From ab985ecb4cb6bcc8a65ff79aa746a1f80fa4b2f4 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: tslil clingman Date: Thu, 29 Sep 2022 22:55:01 +0200 Subject: Refactor code --- srchr/books.txt | 212229 ----------------------------------------------------- 1 file changed, 212229 deletions(-) delete mode 100644 srchr/books.txt (limited to 'srchr/books.txt') diff --git a/srchr/books.txt b/srchr/books.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f53d337..0000000 --- a/srchr/books.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,212229 +0,0 @@ -ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND -Lewis Carroll -THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION . -CHAPTER I -Down the RabbitHole -Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister -on the bank, and of having nothing to do once or twice she had -peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no -pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book,' -thought Alice "without pictures or conversation?' -So she was considering in her own mind as well as she could, -for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid, whether -the pleasure of making a daisychain would be worth the trouble -of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White -Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. -There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that nor did Alice -think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to -itself, "Oh dear Oh dear I shall be late' when she thought -it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have -wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural -but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT -POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to -her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never -before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoatpocket, or a watch to -take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the -field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop -down a large rabbithole under the hedge. -In another moment down went Alice after it, never once -considering how in the world she was to get out again. -The rabbithole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, -and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a -moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself -falling down a very deep well. -Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she -had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to -wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look -down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to -see anything then she looked at the sides of the well, and -noticed that they were filled with cupboards and bookshelves -here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She -took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed it was -labelled "ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it -was empty she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing -somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she -fell past it. -"Well' thought Alice to herself, "after such a fall as this, I -shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs How brave they'll -all think me at home Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, -even if I fell off the top of the house' Which was very likely -true. -Down, down, down. Would the fall NEVER come to an end "I -wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. -"I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let -me see that would be four thousand miles down, I think' for, -you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her -lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good -opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to -listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over "yes, -that's about the right distancebut then I wonder what Latitude -or Longitude I've got to?' Alice had no idea what Latitude was, -or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to -say. -Presently she began again. "I wonder if I shall fall right -THROUGH the earth How funny it'll seem to come out among the -people that walk with their heads downward The Antipathies, I -think' she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this -time, as it didn't sound at all the right word "but I shall -have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. -Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' and she tried -to curtsey as she spokefancy CURTSEYING as you're falling -through the air Do you think you could manage it? "And what -an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking No, it'll -never do to ask perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.' -Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon -began talking again. "Dinah'll miss me very much tonight, I -should think' Dinah was the cat. "I hope they'll remember -her saucer of milk at teatime. Dinah my dear I wish you were -down here with me There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but -you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. -But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get -rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of -way, "Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, "Do -bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either -question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt -that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she -was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very -earnestly, "Now, Dinah, tell me the truth did you ever eat a -bat?' when suddenly, thump thump down she came upon a heap of -sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over. -Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a -moment she looked up, but it was all dark overhead before her -was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in -sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost -away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it -say, as it turned a corner, "Oh my ears and whiskers, how late -it's getting' She was close behind it when she turned the -corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen she found -herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps -hanging from the roof. -There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked -and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the -other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, -wondering how she was ever to get out again. -Suddenly she came upon a little threelegged table, all made of -solid glass there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, -and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the -doors of the hall but, alas either the locks were too large, or -the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of -them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low -curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little -door about fifteen inches high she tried the little golden key -in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted -Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small -passage, not much larger than a rathole she knelt down and -looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. -How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about -among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but -she could not even get her head though the doorway "and even if -my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, "it would be of -very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish -I could shut up like a telescope I think I could, if I only -know how to begin.' For, you see, so many outoftheway things -had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few -things indeed were really impossible. -There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she -went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on -it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like -telescopes this time she found a little bottle on it, "which -certainly was not here before,' said Alice, and round the neck -of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME' -beautifully printed on it in large letters. -It was all very well to say "Drink me,' but the wise little -Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry. "No, I'll look -first,' she said, "and see whether it's marked "poison" or not' -for she had read several nice little histories about children who -had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant -things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules -their friends had taught them such as, that a redhot poker -will burn you if you hold it too long and that if you cut your -finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds and she had -never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked -"poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or -later. -However, this bottle was NOT marked "poison,' so Alice ventured -to taste it, and finding it very nice, it had, in fact, a sort -of mixed flavour of cherrytart, custard, pineapple, roast -turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast, she very soon finished -it off. -"What a curious feeling' said Alice "I must be shutting up -like a telescope.' -And so it was indeed she was now only ten inches high, and -her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right -size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. -First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was -going to shrink any further she felt a little nervous about -this "for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, "in my -going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be -like then?' And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is -like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember -ever having seen such a thing. -After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided -on going into the garden at once but, alas for poor Alice -when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the -little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, -she found she could not possibly reach it she could see it -quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb -up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery -and when she had tired herself out with trying, -the poor little thing sat down and cried. -"Come, there's no use in crying like that' said Alice to -herself, rather sharply "I advise you to leave off this minute' -She generally gave herself very good advice, though she very -seldom followed it, and sometimes she scolded herself so -severely as to bring tears into her eyes and once she remembered -trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game -of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious -child was very fond of pretending to be two people. "But it's no -use now,' thought poor Alice, "to pretend to be two people Why, -there's hardly enough of me left to make ONE respectable -person' -Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under -the table she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on -which the words "EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. -"Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, "and if it makes me grow larger, -I can reach the key and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep -under the door so either way I'll get into the garden, and I -don't care which happens' -She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, "Which -way? Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to -feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to -find that she remained the same size to be sure, this generally -happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the -way of expecting nothing but outoftheway things to happen, -that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the -common way. -So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake. -CHAPTER II -The Pool of Tears -"Curiouser and curiouser' cried Alice she was so much -surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good -English "now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that -ever was Goodbye, feet' for when she looked down at her -feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so -far off. "Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on -your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I'm sure I shan't -be able I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself -about you you must manage the best way you can but I must be -kind to them,' thought Alice, "or perhaps they won't walk the -way I want to go Let me see I'll give them a new pair of -boots every Christmas.' -And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. -"They must go by the carrier,' she thought "and how funny it'll -seem, sending presents to one's own feet And how odd the -directions will look -ALICE'S RIGHT FOOT, ESQ. -HEARTHRUG, -NEAR THE FENDER, -WITH ALICE'S LOVE. -Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking' -Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall in -fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took -up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door. -Poor Alice It was as much as she could do, lying down on one -side, to look through into the garden with one eye but to get -through was more hopeless than ever she sat down and began to -cry again. -"You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, "a great -girl like you,' she might well say this, "to go on crying in -this way Stop this moment, I tell you' But she went on all -the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool -all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the -hall. -After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the -distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. -It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a -pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the -other he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to -himself as he came, "Oh the Duchess, the Duchess Oh won't she -be savage if I've kept her waiting' Alice felt so desperate -that she was ready to ask help of any one so, when the Rabbit -came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, "If you please, -sir' The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid -gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard -as he could go. -Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very -hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking -"Dear, dear How queer everything is today And yesterday -things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in -the night? Let me think was I the same when I got up this -morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little -different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in -the world am I? Ah, THAT'S the great puzzle' And she began -thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age -as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of -them. -"I'm sure I'm not Ada,' she said, "for her hair goes in such -long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all and I'm -sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, -oh she knows such a very little Besides, SHE'S she, and I'm I, -andoh dear, how puzzling it all is I'll try if I know all the -things I used to know. Let me see four times five is twelve, -and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven isoh dear -I shall never get to twenty at that rate However, the -Multiplication Table doesn't signify let's try Geography. -London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, -and Romeno, THAT'S all wrong, I'm certain I must have been -changed for Mabel I'll try and say "How doth the little"' -and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, -and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and -strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do -"How doth the little crocodile -Improve his shining tail, -And pour the waters of the Nile -On every golden scale -"How cheerfully he seems to grin, -How neatly spread his claws, -And welcome little fishes in -With gently smiling jaws' -"I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and -her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, "I must be Mabel -after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little -house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh ever so -many lessons to learn No, I've made up my mind about it if I'm -Mabel, I'll stay down here It'll be no use their putting their -heads down and saying "Come up again, dear" I shall only look -up and say "Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I -like being that person, I'll come up if not, I'll stay down -here till I'm somebody else"but, oh dear' cried Alice, with a -sudden burst of tears, "I do wish they WOULD put their heads -down I am so VERY tired of being all alone here' -As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was -surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little -white kid gloves while she was talking. "How CAN I have done -that?' she thought. "I must be growing small again.' She got up -and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that, -as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, -and was going on shrinking rapidly she soon found out that the -cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it -hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether. -"That WAS a narrow escape' said Alice, a good deal frightened at -the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in -existence "and now for the garden' and she ran with all speed -back to the little door but, alas the little door was shut -again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as -before, "and things are worse than ever,' thought the poor child, -"for I never was so small as this before, never And I declare -it's too bad, that it is' -As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another -moment, splash she was up to her chin in salt water. Her first -idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, "and in that -case I can go back by railway,' she said to herself. Alice had -been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general -conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find -a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in -the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and -behind them a railway station. However, she soon made out that -she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine -feet high. -"I wish I hadn't cried so much' said Alice, as she swam about, -trying to find her way out. "I shall be punished for it now, I -suppose, by being drowned in my own tears That WILL be a queer -thing, to be sure However, everything is queer today.' -Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a -little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was at -first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then -she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that -it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself. -"Would it be of any use, now,' thought Alice, "to speak to this -mouse? Everything is so outoftheway down here, that I should -think very likely it can talk at any rate, there's no harm in -trying.' So she began "O Mouse, do you know the way out of -this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse' -Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse -she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having -seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, "A mouseof a mouseto a -mousea mouseO mouse' The Mouse looked at her rather -inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little -eyes, but it said nothing. -"Perhaps it doesn't understand English,' thought Alice "I -daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the -Conqueror.' For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had -no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened. So she -began again "Ou est ma chatte?' which was the first sentence in -her French lessonbook. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the -water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright. "Oh, I beg -your pardon' cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the -poor animal's feelings. "I quite forgot you didn't like cats.' -"Not like cats' cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate -voice. "Would YOU like cats if you were me?' -"Well, perhaps not,' said Alice in a soothing tone "don't be -angry about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah -I think you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. -She is such a dear quiet thing,' Alice went on, half to herself, -as she swam lazily about in the pool, "and she sits purring so -nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her faceand -she is such a nice soft thing to nurseand she's such a capital -one for catching miceoh, I beg your pardon' cried Alice again, -for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt -certain it must be really offended. "We won't talk about her any -more if you'd rather not.' -"We indeed' cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end -of his tail. "As if I would talk on such a subject Our family -always HATED cats nasty, low, vulgar things Don't let me hear -the name again' -"I won't indeed' said Alice, in a great hurry to change the -subject of conversation. "Are youare you fondofof dogs?' -The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly "There is -such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you -A little brighteyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly -brown hair And it'll fetch things when you throw them, and -it'll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of thingsI -can't remember half of themand it belongs to a farmer, you -know, and he says it's so useful, it's worth a hundred pounds -He says it kills all the rats andoh dear' cried Alice in a -sorrowful tone, "I'm afraid I've offended it again' For the -Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and -making quite a commotion in the pool as it went. -So she called softly after it, "Mouse dear Do come back -again, and we won't talk about cats or dogs either, if you don't -like them' When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam -slowly back to her its face was quite pale with passion, Alice -thought, and it said in a low trembling voice, "Let us get to -the shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and you'll -understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.' -It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded -with the birds and animals that had fallen into it there were a -Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious -creatures. Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the -shore. -CHAPTER III -A CaucusRace and a Long Tale -They were indeed a queerlooking party that assembled on the -bankthe birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their -fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and -uncomfortable. -The first question of course was, how to get dry again they -had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed -quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with -them, as if she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had -quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, -and would only say, "I am older than you, and must know better' -and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was, -and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no -more to be said. -At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among -them, called out, "Sit down, all of you, and listen to me I'LL -soon make you dry enough' They all sat down at once, in a large -ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes -anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad -cold if she did not get dry very soon. -"Ahem' said the Mouse with an important air, "are you all ready? -This is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you please -"William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was -soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been -of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin and -Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria"' -"Ugh' said the Lory, with a shiver. -"I beg your pardon' said the Mouse, frowning, but very -politely "Did you speak?' -"Not I' said the Lory hastily. -"I thought you did,' said the Mouse. "I proceed. "Edwin and -Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him -and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found -it advisable"' -"Found WHAT?' said the Duck. -"Found IT,' the Mouse replied rather crossly "of course you -know what "it" means.' -"I know what "it" means well enough, when I find a thing,' said -the Duck "it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is, -what did the archbishop find?' -The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, -""found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William -and offer him the crown. William's conduct at first was -moderate. But the insolence of his Normans" How are you -getting on now, my dear?' it continued, turning to Alice as it -spoke. -"As wet as ever,' said Alice in a melancholy tone "it doesn't -seem to dry me at all.' -"In that case,' said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, "I -move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more -energetic remedies' -"Speak English' said the Eaglet. "I don't know the meaning of -half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do -either' And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile -some of the other birds tittered audibly. -"What I was going to say,' said the Dodo in an offended tone, -"was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucusrace.' -"What IS a Caucusrace?' said Alice not that she wanted much -to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that SOMEBODY -ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything. -"Why,' said the Dodo, "the best way to explain it is to do it.' -And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter -day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it. -First it marked out a racecourse, in a sort of circle, "the -exact shape doesn't matter,' it said, and then all the party -were placed along the course, here and there. There was no "One, -two, three, and away,' but they began running when they liked, -and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know -when the race was over. However, when they had been running half -an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called -out "The race is over' and they all crowded round it, panting, -and asking, "But who has won?' -This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of -thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon -its forehead the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, -in the pictures of him, while the rest waited in silence. At -last the Dodo said, "EVERYBODY has won, and all must have -prizes.' -"But who is to give the prizes?' quite a chorus of voices -asked. -"Why, SHE, of course,' said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with -one finger and the whole party at once crowded round her, -calling out in a confused way, "Prizes Prizes' -Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand -in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, luckily the salt -water had not got into it, and handed them round as prizes. -There was exactly one apiece all round. -"But she must have a prize herself, you know,' said the Mouse. -"Of course,' the Dodo replied very gravely. "What else have -you got in your pocket?' he went on, turning to Alice. -"Only a thimble,' said Alice sadly. -"Hand it over here,' said the Dodo. -Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo -solemnly presented the thimble, saying "We beg your acceptance of -this elegant thimble' and, when it had finished this short -speech, they all cheered. -Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked -so grave that she did not dare to laugh and, as she could not -think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble, -looking as solemn as she could. -The next thing was to eat the comfits this caused some noise -and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not -taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on -the back. However, it was over at last, and they sat down again -in a ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more. -"You promised to tell me your history, you know,' said Alice, -"and why it is you hateC and D,' she added in a whisper, half -afraid that it would be offended again. -"Mine is a long and a sad tale' said the Mouse, turning to -Alice, and sighing. -"It IS a long tail, certainly,' said Alice, looking down with -wonder at the Mouse's tail "but why do you call it sad?' And -she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so -that her idea of the tale was something like this -"Fury said to a -mouse, That he -met in the -house, -"Let us -both go to -law I will -prosecute -YOU. Come, -I'll take no -denial We -must have a -trial For -really this -morning I've -nothing -to do." -Said the -mouse to the -cur, "Such -a trial, -dear Sir, -With -no jury -or judge, -would be -wasting -our -breath." -"I'll be -judge, I'll -be jury," -Said -cunning -old Fury -"I'll -try the -whole -cause, -and -condemn -you -to -death."' -"You are not attending' said the Mouse to Alice severely. -"What are you thinking of?' -"I beg your pardon,' said Alice very humbly "you had got to -the fifth bend, I think?' -"I had NOT' cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily. -"A knot' said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and -looking anxiously about her. "Oh, do let me help to undo it' -"I shall do nothing of the sort,' said the Mouse, getting up -and walking away. "You insult me by talking such nonsense' -"I didn't mean it' pleaded poor Alice. "But you're so easily -offended, you know' -The Mouse only growled in reply. -"Please come back and finish your story' Alice called after -it and the others all joined in chorus, "Yes, please do' but -the Mouse only shook its head impatiently, and walked a little -quicker. -"What a pity it wouldn't stay' sighed the Lory, as soon as it -was quite out of sight and an old Crab took the opportunity of -saying to her daughter "Ah, my dear Let this be a lesson to you -never to lose YOUR temper' "Hold your tongue, Ma' said the -young Crab, a little snappishly. "You're enough to try the -patience of an oyster' -"I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do' said Alice aloud, -addressing nobody in particular. "She'd soon fetch it back' -"And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?' -said the Lory. -Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about -her pet "Dinah's our cat. And she's such a capital one for -catching mice you can't think And oh, I wish you could see her -after the birds Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look -at it' -This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. -Some of the birds hurried off at once one old Magpie began -wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, "I really must be -getting home the nightair doesn't suit my throat' and a Canary -called out in a trembling voice to its children, "Come away, my -dears It's high time you were all in bed' On various pretexts -they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone. -"I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah' she said to herself in a -melancholy tone. "Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm -sure she's the best cat in the world Oh, my dear Dinah I -wonder if I shall ever see you any more' And here poor Alice -began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and lowspirited. -In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of -footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping -that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was coming back to -finish his story. -CHAPTER IV -The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill -It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and -looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something -and she heard it muttering to itself "The Duchess The Duchess -Oh my dear paws Oh my fur and whiskers She'll get me -executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets Where CAN I have -dropped them, I wonder?' Alice guessed in a moment that it was -looking for the fan and the pair of white kid gloves, and she -very goodnaturedly began hunting about for them, but they were -nowhere to be seeneverything seemed to have changed since her -swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and -the little door, had vanished completely. -Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about, -and called out to her in an angry tone, "Why, Mary Ann, what ARE -you doing out here? Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of -gloves and a fan Quick, now' And Alice was so much frightened -that she ran off at once in the direction it pointed to, without -trying to explain the mistake it had made. -"He took me for his housemaid,' she said to herself as she ran. -"How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am But I'd -better take him his fan and glovesthat is, if I can find them.' -As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door -of which was a bright brass plate with the name "W. RABBIT' -engraved upon it. She went in without knocking, and hurried -upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann, -and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and -gloves. -"How queer it seems,' Alice said to herself, "to be going -messages for a rabbit I suppose Dinah'll be sending me on -messages next' And she began fancying the sort of thing that -would happen ""Miss Alice Come here directly, and get ready -for your walk" "Coming in a minute, nurse But I've got to see -that the mouse doesn't get out." Only I don't think,' Alice went -on, "that they'd let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering -people about like that' -By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with -a table in the window, and on it as she had hoped a fan and two -or three pairs of tiny white kid gloves she took up the fan and -a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when -her eye fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking -glass. There was no label this time with the words "DRINK ME,' -but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips. "I know -SOMETHING interesting is sure to happen,' she said to herself, -"whenever I eat or drink anything so I'll just see what this -bottle does. I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for -really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing' -It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected -before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing -against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being -broken. She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself -"That's quite enoughI hope I shan't grow any moreAs it is, I -can't get out at the doorI do wish I hadn't drunk quite so -much' -Alas it was too late to wish that She went on growing, and -growing, and very soon had to kneel down on the floor in -another minute there was not even room for this, and she tried -the effect of lying down with one elbow against the door, and the -other arm curled round her head. Still she went on growing, and, -as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window, and one -foot up the chimney, and said to herself "Now I can do no more, -whatever happens. What WILL become of me?' -Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full -effect, and she grew no larger still it was very uncomfortable, -and, as there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting -out of the room again, no wonder she felt unhappy. -"It was much pleasanter at home,' thought poor Alice, "when one -wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about -by mice and rabbits. I almost wish I hadn't gone down that -rabbitholeand yetand yetit's rather curious, you know, -this sort of life I do wonder what CAN have happened to me -When I used to read fairytales, I fancied that kind of thing -never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one There -ought to be a book written about me, that there ought And when -I grow up, I'll write onebut I'm grown up now,' she added in a -sorrowful tone "at least there's no room to grow up any more -HERE.' -"But then,' thought Alice, "shall I NEVER get any older than I -am now? That'll be a comfort, one waynever to be an old woman -but thenalways to have lessons to learn Oh, I shouldn't like THAT' -"Oh, you foolish Alice' she answered herself. "How can you -learn lessons in here? Why, there's hardly room for YOU, and no -room at all for any lessonbooks' -And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other, -and making quite a conversation of it altogether but after a few -minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen. -"Mary Ann Mary Ann' said the voice. "Fetch me my gloves -this moment' Then came a little pattering of feet on the -stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and -she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she -was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no -reason to be afraid of it. -Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it -but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice's elbow was pressed -hard against it, that attempt proved a failure. Alice heard it -say to itself "Then I'll go round and get in at the window.' -"THAT you won't' thought Alice, and, after waiting till she -fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly -spread out her hand, and made a snatch in the air. She did not -get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall, -and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was -just possible it had fallen into a cucumberframe, or something -of the sort. -Next came an angry voicethe Rabbit's"Pat Pat Where are -you?' And then a voice she had never heard before, "Sure then -I'm here Digging for apples, yer honour' -"Digging for apples, indeed' said the Rabbit angrily. "Here -Come and help me out of THIS' Sounds of more broken glass. -"Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?' -"Sure, it's an arm, yer honour' He pronounced it "arrum.' -"An arm, you goose Who ever saw one that size? Why, it -fills the whole window' -"Sure, it does, yer honour but it's an arm for all that.' -"Well, it's got no business there, at any rate go and take it -away' -There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear -whispers now and then such as, "Sure, I don't like it, yer -honour, at all, at all' "Do as I tell you, you coward' and at -last she spread out her hand again, and made another snatch in -the air. This time there were TWO little shrieks, and more -sounds of broken glass. "What a number of cucumberframes there -must be' thought Alice. "I wonder what they'll do next As for -pulling me out of the window, I only wish they COULD I'm sure I -don't want to stay in here any longer' -She waited for some time without hearing anything more at -last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a -good many voices all talking together she made out the words -"Where's the other ladder?Why, I hadn't to bring but one -Bill's got the otherBill fetch it here, ladHere, put 'em up -at this cornerNo, tie 'em together firstthey don't reach half -high enough yetOh they'll do well enough don't be particular -Here, Bill catch hold of this ropeWill the roof bear?Mind -that loose slateOh, it's coming down Heads below' a loud -crash"Now, who did that?It was Bill, I fancyWho's to go -down the chimney?Nay, I shan't YOU do itThat I won't, -thenBill's to go downHere, Bill the master says you're to -go down the chimney' -"Oh So Bill's got to come down the chimney, has he?' said -Alice to herself. "Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill -I wouldn't be in Bill's place for a good deal this fireplace is -narrow, to be sure but I THINK I can kick a little' -She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and -waited till she heard a little animal she couldn't guess of what -sort it was scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close -above her then, saying to herself "This is Bill,' she gave one -sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next. -The first thing she heard was a general chorus of "There goes -Bill' then the Rabbit's voice along"Catch him, you by the -hedge' then silence, and then another confusion of voices"Hold -up his headBrandy nowDon't choke himHow was it, old fellow? -What happened to you? Tell us all about it' -Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, "That's Bill,' -thought Alice, "Well, I hardly knowNo more, thank ye I'm -better nowbut I'm a deal too flustered to tell youall I know -is, something comes at me like a Jackinthebox, and up I goes -like a skyrocket' -"So you did, old fellow' said the others. -"We must burn the house down' said the Rabbit's voice and -Alice called out as loud as she could, "If you do. I'll set -Dinah at you' -There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to -herself, "I wonder what they WILL do next If they had any -sense, they'd take the roof off.' After a minute or two, they -began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, "A -barrowful will do, to begin with.' -"A barrowful of WHAT?' thought Alice but she had not long to -doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came -rattling in at the window, and some of them hit her in the face. -"I'll put a stop to this,' she said to herself, and shouted out, -"You'd better not do that again' which produced another dead -silence. -Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all -turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright -idea came into her head. "If I eat one of these cakes,' she -thought, "it's sure to make SOME change in my size and as it -can't possibly make me larger, it must make me smaller, I -suppose.' -So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find -that she began shrinking directly. As soon as she was small -enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and -found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside. -The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by -two guineapigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle. -They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared but she -ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a -thick wood. -"The first thing I've got to do,' said Alice to herself, as she -wandered about in the wood, "is to grow to my right size again -and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden. -I think that will be the best plan.' -It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and -simply arranged the only difficulty was, that she had not the -smallest idea how to set about it and while she was peering -about anxiously among the trees, a little sharp bark just over -her head made her look up in a great hurry. -An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round -eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her. -"Poor little thing' said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried -hard to whistle to it but she was terribly frightened all the -time at the thought that it might be hungry, in which case it -would be very likely to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing. -Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of -stick, and held it out to the puppy whereupon the puppy jumped -into the air off all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight, -and rushed at the stick, and made believe to worry it then Alice -dodged behind a great thistle, to keep herself from being run -over and the moment she appeared on the other side, the puppy -made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in -its hurry to get hold of it then Alice, thinking it was very -like having a game of play with a carthorse, and expecting every -moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle -again then the puppy began a series of short charges at the -stick, running a very little way forwards each time and a long -way back, and barking hoarsely all the while, till at last it sat -down a good way off, panting, with its tongue hanging out of its -mouth, and its great eyes half shut. -This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape -so she set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out -of breath, and till the puppy's bark sounded quite faint in the -distance. -"And yet what a dear little puppy it was' said Alice, as she -leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself -with one of the leaves "I should have liked teaching it tricks -very much, ifif I'd only been the right size to do it Oh -dear I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again Let -me seehow IS it to be managed? I suppose I ought to eat or -drink something or other but the great question is, what?' -The great question certainly was, what? Alice looked all round -her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see -anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under -the circumstances. There was a large mushroom growing near her, -about the same height as herself and when she had looked under -it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to her -that she might as well look and see what was on the top of it. -She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of -the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large -caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, -quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice -of her or of anything else. -CHAPTER V -Advice from a Caterpillar -The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in -silence at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its -mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice. -"Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar. -This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice -replied, rather shyly, "II hardly know, sir, just at present -at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think -I must have been changed several times since then.' -"What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. -"Explain yourself' -"I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, "because -I'm not myself, you see.' -"I don't see,' said the Caterpillar. -"I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very -politely, "for I can't understand it myself to begin with and -being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.' -"It isn't,' said the Caterpillar. -"Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice "but -when you have to turn into a chrysalisyou will some day, you -knowand then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll -feel it a little queer, won't you?' -"Not a bit,' said the Caterpillar. -"Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,' said Alice -"all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.' -"You' said the Caterpillar contemptuously. "Who are YOU?' -Which brought them back again to the beginning of the -conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's -making such VERY short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, -very gravely, "I think, you ought to tell me who YOU are, first.' -"Why?' said the Caterpillar. -Here was another puzzling question and as Alice could not -think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in -a VERY unpleasant state of mind, she turned away. -"Come back' the Caterpillar called after her. "I've something -important to say' -This sounded promising, certainly Alice turned and came back -again. -"Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar. -"Is that all?' said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as -she could. -"No,' said the Caterpillar. -Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else -to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth -hearing. For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but -at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth -again, and said, "So you think you're changed, do you?' -"I'm afraid I am, sir,' said Alice "I can't remember things as -I usedand I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together' -"Can't remember WHAT things?' said the Caterpillar. -"Well, I've tried to say "HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE," but it -all came different' Alice replied in a very melancholy voice. -"Repeat, "YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM,"' said the Caterpillar. -Alice folded her hands, and began -"You are old, Father William,' the young man said, -"And your hair has become very white -And yet you incessantly stand on your head -Do you think, at your age, it is right?' -"In my youth,' Father William replied to his son, -"I feared it might injure the brain -But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, -Why, I do it again and again.' -"You are old,' said the youth, "as I mentioned before, -And have grown most uncommonly fat -Yet you turned a backsomersault in at the door -Pray, what is the reason of that?' -"In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks, -"I kept all my limbs very supple -By the use of this ointmentone shilling the box -Allow me to sell you a couple?' -"You are old,' said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak -For anything tougher than suet -Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak -Pray how did you manage to do it?' -"In my youth,' said his father, "I took to the law, -And argued each case with my wife -And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, -Has lasted the rest of my life.' -"You are old,' said the youth, "one would hardly suppose -That your eye was as steady as ever -Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose -What made you so awfully clever?' -"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,' -Said his father "don't give yourself airs -Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? -Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs' -"That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar. -"Not QUITE right, I'm afraid,' said Alice, timidly "some of the -words have got altered.' -"It is wrong from beginning to end,' said the Caterpillar -decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes. -The Caterpillar was the first to speak. -"What size do you want to be?' it asked. -"Oh, I'm not particular as to size,' Alice hastily replied -"only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.' -"I DON'T know,' said the Caterpillar. -Alice said nothing she had never been so much contradicted in -her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper. -"Are you content now?' said the Caterpillar. -"Well, I should like to be a LITTLE larger, sir, if you -wouldn't mind,' said Alice "three inches is such a wretched -height to be.' -"It is a very good height indeed' said the Caterpillar -angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke it was exactly three -inches high. -"But I'm not used to it' pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. -And she thought of herself, "I wish the creatures wouldn't be so -easily offended' -"You'll get used to it in time,' said the Caterpillar and it -put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again. -This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. -In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its -mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got -down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely -remarking as it went, "One side will make you grow taller, and -the other side will make you grow shorter.' -"One side of WHAT? The other side of WHAT?' thought Alice to -herself. -"Of the mushroom,' said the Caterpillar, just as if she had -asked it aloud and in another moment it was out of sight. -Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a -minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it and as -it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question. -However, at last she stretched her arms round it as far as they -would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand. -"And now which is which?' she said to herself, and nibbled a -little of the righthand bit to try the effect the next moment -she felt a violent blow underneath her chin it had struck her -foot -She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but -she felt that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking -rapidly so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. -Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot, that there was -hardly room to open her mouth but she did it at last, and -managed to swallow a morsel of the lefthand bit. -"Come, my head's free at last' said Alice in a tone of -delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when she -found that her shoulders were nowhere to be found all she could -see, when she looked down, was an immense length of neck, which -seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay -far below her. -"What CAN all that green stuff be?' said Alice. "And where -HAVE my shoulders got to? And oh, my poor hands, how is it I -can't see you?' She was moving them about as she spoke, but no -result seemed to follow, except a little shaking among the -distant green leaves. -As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands up to her -head, she tried to get her head down to them, and was delighted -to find that her neck would bend about easily in any direction, -like a serpent. She had just succeeded in curving it down into a -graceful zigzag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which -she found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which she -had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a -hurry a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was beating -her violently with its wings. -"Serpent' screamed the Pigeon. -"I'm NOT a serpent' said Alice indignantly. "Let me alone' -"Serpent, I say again' repeated the Pigeon, but in a more -subdued tone, and added with a kind of sob, "I've tried every -way, and nothing seems to suit them' -"I haven't the least idea what you're talking about,' said -Alice. -"I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've -tried hedges,' the Pigeon went on, without attending to her "but -those serpents There's no pleasing them' -Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought there was no -use in saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished. -"As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs,' said the -Pigeon "but I must be on the lookout for serpents night and -day Why, I haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks' -"I'm very sorry you've been annoyed,' said Alice, who was -beginning to see its meaning. -"And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood,' continued -the Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, "and just as I was -thinking I should be free of them at last, they must needs come -wriggling down from the sky Ugh, Serpent' -"But I'm NOT a serpent, I tell you' said Alice. "I'm aI'm -a' -"Well WHAT are you?' said the Pigeon. "I can see you're -trying to invent something' -"II'm a little girl,' said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she -remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day. -"A likely story indeed' said the Pigeon in a tone of the -deepest contempt. "I've seen a good many little girls in my -time, but never ONE with such a neck as that No, no You're a -serpent and there's no use denying it. I suppose you'll be -telling me next that you never tasted an egg' -"I HAVE tasted eggs, certainly,' said Alice, who was a very -truthful child "but little girls eat eggs quite as much as -serpents do, you know.' -"I don't believe it,' said the Pigeon "but if they do, why -then they're a kind of serpent, that's all I can say.' -This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite silent -for a minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of -adding, "You're looking for eggs, I know THAT well enough and -what does it matter to me whether you're a little girl or a -serpent?' -"It matters a good deal to ME,' said Alice hastily "but I'm -not looking for eggs, as it happens and if I was, I shouldn't -want YOURS I don't like them raw.' -"Well, be off, then' said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it -settled down again into its nest. Alice crouched down among the -trees as well as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled -among the branches, and every now and then she had to stop and -untwist it. After a while she remembered that she still held the -pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very -carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and -growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until she had -succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height. -It was so long since she had been anything near the right size, -that it felt quite strange at first but she got used to it in a -few minutes, and began talking to herself, as usual. "Come, -there's half my plan done now How puzzling all these changes -are I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to -another However, I've got back to my right size the next -thing is, to get into that beautiful gardenhow IS that to be -done, I wonder?' As she said this, she came suddenly upon an -open place, with a little house in it about four feet high. -"Whoever lives there,' thought Alice, "it'll never do to come -upon them THIS size why, I should frighten them out of their -wits' So she began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did -not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself -down to nine inches high. -CHAPTER VI -Pig and Pepper -For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and -wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came -running out of the woodshe considered him to be a footman -because he was in livery otherwise, judging by his face only, -she would have called him a fishand rapped loudly at the door -with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, -with a round face, and large eyes like a frog and both footmen, -Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their -heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and -crept a little way out of the wood to listen. -The FishFootman began by producing from under his arm a great -letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to -the other, saying, in a solemn tone, "For the Duchess. An -invitation from the Queen to play croquet.' The FrogFootman -repeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of the -words a little, "From the Queen. An invitation for the Duchess -to play croquet.' -Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled -together. -Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into -the wood for fear of their hearing her and when she next peeped -out the FishFootman was gone, and the other was sitting on the -ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky. -Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked. -"There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, "and -that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the -door as you are secondly, because they're making such a noise -inside, no one could possibly hear you.' And certainly there was -a most extraordinary noise going on withina constant howling -and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish -or kettle had been broken to pieces. -"Please, then,' said Alice, "how am I to get in?' -"There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went -on without attending to her, "if we had the door between us. For -instance, if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could let -you out, you know.' He was looking up into the sky all the time -he was speaking, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil. "But -perhaps he can't help it,' she said to herself "his eyes are so -VERY nearly at the top of his head. But at any rate he might -answer questions.How am I to get in?' she repeated, aloud. -"I shall sit here,' the Footman remarked, "till tomorrow' -At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate -came skimming out, straight at the Footman's head it just -grazed his nose, and broke to pieces against one of the trees -behind him. -"or next day, maybe,' the Footman continued in the same tone, -exactly as if nothing had happened. -"How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone. -"ARE you to get in at all?' said the Footman. "That's the -first question, you know.' -It was, no doubt only Alice did not like to be told so. -"It's really dreadful,' she muttered to herself, "the way all the -creatures argue. It's enough to drive one crazy' -The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for -repeating his remark, with variations. "I shall sit here,' he -said, "on and off, for days and days.' -"But what am I to do?' said Alice. -"Anything you like,' said the Footman, and began whistling. -"Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately -"he's perfectly idiotic' And she opened the door and went in. -The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of -smoke from one end to the other the Duchess was sitting on a -threelegged stool in the middle, nursing a baby the cook was -leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to -be full of soup. -"There's certainly too much pepper in that soup' Alice said to -herself, as well as she could for sneezing. -There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the -Duchess sneezed occasionally and as for the baby, it was -sneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause. The -only things in the kitchen that did not sneeze, were the cook, -and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from -ear to ear. -"Please would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, for -she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to -speak first, "why your cat grins like that?' -"It's a Cheshire cat,' said the Duchess, "and that's why. Pig' -She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice -quite jumped but she saw in another moment that it was addressed -to the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on -again -"I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned in fact, I -didn't know that cats COULD grin.' -"They all can,' said the Duchess "and most of 'em do.' -"I don't know of any that do,' Alice said very politely, -feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation. -"You don't know much,' said the Duchess "and that's a fact.' -Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought -it would be as well to introduce some other subject of -conversation. While she was trying to fix on one, the cook took -the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work -throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby -the fireirons came first then followed a shower of saucepans, -plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of them even when -they hit her and the baby was howling so much already, that it -was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not. -"Oh, PLEASE mind what you're doing' cried Alice, jumping up -and down in an agony of terror. "Oh, there goes his PRECIOUS -nose' as an unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very -nearly carried it off. -"If everybody minded their own business,' the Duchess said in a -hoarse growl, "the world would go round a deal faster than it -does.' -"Which would NOT be an advantage,' said Alice, who felt very -glad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of her -knowledge. "Just think of what work it would make with the day -and night You see the earth takes twentyfour hours to turn -round on its axis' -"Talking of axes,' said the Duchess, "chop off her head' -Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant -to take the hint but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and -seemed not to be listening, so she went on again "Twentyfour -hours, I THINK or is it twelve? I' -"Oh, don't bother ME,' said the Duchess "I never could abide -figures' And with that she began nursing her child again, -singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a -violent shake at the end of every line -"Speak roughly to your little boy, -And beat him when he sneezes -He only does it to annoy, -Because he knows it teases.' -CHORUS. -In which the cook and the baby joined -"Wow wow wow' -While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept -tossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing -howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words -"I speak severely to my boy, -I beat him when he sneezes -For he can thoroughly enjoy -The pepper when he pleases' -CHORUS. -"Wow wow wow' -"Here you may nurse it a bit, if you like' the Duchess said -to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke. "I must go and -get ready to play croquet with the Queen,' and she hurried out of -the room. The cook threw a fryingpan after her as she went out, -but it just missed her. -Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer -shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all -directions, "just like a starfish,' thought Alice. The poor -little thing was snorting like a steamengine when she caught it, -and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself out again, -so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as much -as she could do to hold it. -As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it, -which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep -tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its -undoing itself, she carried it out into the open air. "IF I -don't take this child away with me,' thought Alice, "they're sure -to kill it in a day or two wouldn't it be murder to leave it -behind?' She said the last words out loud, and the little thing -grunted in reply it had left off sneezing by this time. "Don't -grunt,' said Alice "that's not at all a proper way of expressing -yourself.' -The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into -its face to see what was the matter with it. There could be no -doubt that it had a VERY turnup nose, much more like a snout -than a real nose also its eyes were getting extremely small for -a baby altogether Alice did not like the look of the thing at -all. "But perhaps it was only sobbing,' she thought, and looked -into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears. -No, there were no tears. "If you're going to turn into a pig, -my dear,' said Alice, seriously, "I'll have nothing more to do -with you. Mind now' The poor little thing sobbed again or -grunted, it was impossible to say which, and they went on for -some while in silence. -Alice was just beginning to think to herself, "Now, what am I -to do with this creature when I get it home?' when it grunted -again, so violently, that she looked down into its face in some -alarm. This time there could be NO mistake about it it was -neither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would be -quite absurd for her to carry it further. -So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to -see it trot away quietly into the wood. "If it had grown up,' -she said to herself, "it would have made a dreadfully ugly child -but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.' And she began -thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as -pigs, and was just saying to herself, "if one only knew the right -way to change them' when she was a little startled by seeing -the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off. -The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good -natured, she thought still it had VERY long claws and a great -many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect. -"Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at -all know whether it would like the name however, it only -grinned a little wider. "Come, it's pleased so far,' thought -Alice, and she went on. "Would you tell me, please, which way I -ought to go from here?' -"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said -the Cat. -"I don't much care where' said Alice. -"Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat. -"so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation. -"Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, "if you only walk -long enough.' -Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another -question. "What sort of people live about here?' -"In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, -"lives a Hatter and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw, -"lives a March Hare. Visit either you like they're both mad.' -"But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked. -"Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat "we're all mad here. -I'm mad. You're mad.' -"How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice. -"You must be,' said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.' -Alice didn't think that proved it at all however, she went on -"And how do you know that you're mad?' -"To begin with,' said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant -that?' -"I suppose so,' said Alice. -"Well, then,' the Cat went on, "you see, a dog growls when it's -angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm -pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.' -"I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice. -"Call it what you like,' said the Cat. "Do you play croquet -with the Queen today?' -"I should like it very much,' said Alice, "but I haven't been -invited yet.' -"You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished. -Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used -to queer things happening. While she was looking at the place -where it had been, it suddenly appeared again. -"Bythebye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat. "I'd -nearly forgotten to ask.' -"It turned into a pig,' Alice quietly said, just as if it had -come back in a natural way. -"I thought it would,' said the Cat, and vanished again. -Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it -did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the -direction in which the March Hare was said to live. "I've seen -hatters before,' she said to herself "the March Hare will be -much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be -raving madat least not so mad as it was in March.' As she said -this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a -branch of a tree. -"Did you say pig, or fig?' said the Cat. -"I said pig,' replied Alice "and I wish you wouldn't keep -appearing and vanishing so suddenly you make one quite giddy.' -"All right,' said the Cat and this time it vanished quite slowly, -beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, -which remained some time after the rest of it had gone. -"Well I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice -"but a grin without a cat It's the most curious thing I ever -saw in my life' -She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the -house of the March Hare she thought it must be the right house, -because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was -thatched with fur. It was so large a house, that she did not -like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the lefthand -bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high even -then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself -"Suppose it should be raving mad after all I almost wish I'd -gone to see the Hatter instead' -CHAPTER VII -A Mad TeaParty -There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, -and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it a -Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two -were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking -over its head. "Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,' thought Alice -"only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.' -The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded -together at one corner of it "No room No room' they cried -out when they saw Alice coming. "There's PLENTY of room' said -Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large armchair at one -end of the table. -"Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone. -Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it -but tea. "I don't see any wine,' she remarked. -"There isn't any,' said the March Hare. -"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice -angrily. -"It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being -invited,' said the March Hare. -"I didn't know it was YOUR table,' said Alice "it's laid for a -great many more than three.' -"Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter. He had been -looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was -his first speech. -"You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said -with some severity "it's very rude.' -The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this but all -he SAID was, "Why is a raven like a writingdesk?' -"Come, we shall have some fun now' thought Alice. "I'm glad -they've begun asking riddles.I believe I can guess that,' she -added aloud. -"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?' -said the March Hare. -"Exactly so,' said Alice. -"Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on. -"I do,' Alice hastily replied "at leastat least I mean what -I saythat's the same thing, you know.' -"Not the same thing a bit' said the Hatter. "You might just -as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat -what I see"' -"You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, "that "I -like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"' -"You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to -be talking in his sleep, "that "I breathe when I sleep" is the -same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"' -"It IS the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the -conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, -while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and -writingdesks, which wasn't much. -The Hatter was the first to break the silence. "What day of -the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice he had taken his -watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking -it every now and then, and holding it to his ear. -Alice considered a little, and then said "The fourth.' -"Two days wrong' sighed the Hatter. "I told you butter -wouldn't suit the works' he added looking angrily at the March -Hare. -"It was the BEST butter,' the March Hare meekly replied. -"Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter -grumbled "you shouldn't have put it in with the breadknife.' -The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily then -he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again but he -could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, "It -was the BEST butter, you know.' -Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. -"What a funny watch' she remarked. "It tells the day of the -month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is' -"Why should it?' muttered the Hatter. "Does YOUR watch tell -you what year it is?' -"Of course not,' Alice replied very readily "but that's -because it stays the same year for such a long time together.' -"Which is just the case with MINE,' said the Hatter. -Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to -have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. -"I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she -could. -"The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured -a little hot tea upon its nose. -The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without -opening its eyes, "Of course, of course just what I was going to -remark myself.' -"Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to -Alice again. -"No, I give it up,' Alice replied "what's the answer?' -"I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter. -"Nor I,' said the March Hare. -Alice sighed wearily. "I think you might do something better -with the time,' she said, "than waste it in asking riddles that -have no answers.' -"If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, "you -wouldn't talk about wasting IT. It's HIM.' -"I don't know what you mean,' said Alice. -"Of course you don't' the Hatter said, tossing his head -contemptuously. "I dare say you never even spoke to Time' -"Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied "but I know I have to -beat time when I learn music.' -"Ah that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. "He won't stand -beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do -almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose -it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons -you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the -clock in a twinkling Halfpast one, time for dinner' -"I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a -whisper. -"That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully -"but thenI shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.' -"Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter "but you could keep -it to halfpast one as long as you liked.' -"Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked. -The Hatter shook his head mournfully. "Not I' he replied. -"We quarrelled last Marchjust before HE went mad, you know' -pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare, "it was at the -great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing -"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat -How I wonder what you're at" -You know the song, perhaps?' -"I've heard something like it,' said Alice. -"It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, "in this way -"Up above the world you fly, -Like a teatray in the sky. -Twinkle, twinkle"' -Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep -"Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle' and went on so long that -they had to pinch it to make it stop. -"Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter, -"when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the -time Off with his head"' -"How dreadfully savage' exclaimed Alice. -"And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, -"he won't do a thing I ask It's always six o'clock now.' -A bright idea came into Alice's head. "Is that the reason so -many teathings are put out here?' she asked. -"Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh "it's always -teatime, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.' -"Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Alice. -"Exactly so,' said the Hatter "as the things get used up.' -"But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Alice -ventured to ask. -"Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted, -yawning. "I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young lady -tells us a story.' -"I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Alice, rather alarmed at -the proposal. -"Then the Dormouse shall' they both cried. "Wake up, -Dormouse' And they pinched it on both sides at once. -The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. "I wasn't asleep,' he -said in a hoarse, feeble voice "I heard every word you fellows -were saying.' -"Tell us a story' said the March Hare. -"Yes, please do' pleaded Alice. -"And be quick about it,' added the Hatter, "or you'll be asleep -again before it's done.' -"Once upon a time there were three little sisters,' the -Dormouse began in a great hurry "and their names were Elsie, -Lacie, and Tillie and they lived at the bottom of a well' -"What did they live on?' said Alice, who always took a great -interest in questions of eating and drinking. -"They lived on treacle,' said the Dormouse, after thinking a -minute or two. -"They couldn't have done that, you know,' Alice gently -remarked "they'd have been ill.' -"So they were,' said the Dormouse "VERY ill.' -Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways -of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went -on "But why did they live at the bottom of a well?' -"Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very -earnestly. -"I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, "so -I can't take more.' -"You mean you can't take LESS,' said the Hatter "it's very -easy to take MORE than nothing.' -"Nobody asked YOUR opinion,' said Alice. -"Who's making personal remarks now?' the Hatter asked -triumphantly. -Alice did not quite know what to say to this so she helped -herself to some tea and breadandbutter, and then turned to the -Dormouse, and repeated her question. "Why did they live at the -bottom of a well?' -The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and -then said, "It was a treaclewell.' -"There's no such thing' Alice was beginning very angrily, but -the Hatter and the March Hare went "Sh sh' and the Dormouse -sulkily remarked, "If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the -story for yourself.' -"No, please go on' Alice said very humbly "I won't interrupt -again. I dare say there may be ONE.' -"One, indeed' said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he -consented to go on. "And so these three little sistersthey -were learning to draw, you know' -"What did they draw?' said Alice, quite forgetting her promise. -"Treacle,' said the Dormouse, without considering at all this -time. -"I want a clean cup,' interrupted the Hatter "let's all move -one place on.' -He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him the -March Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather -unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the -only one who got any advantage from the change and Alice was a -good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset -the milkjug into his plate. -Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began -very cautiously "But I don't understand. Where did they draw -the treacle from?' -"You can draw water out of a waterwell,' said the Hatter "so -I should think you could draw treacle out of a treaclewelleh, -stupid?' -"But they were IN the well,' Alice said to the Dormouse, not -choosing to notice this last remark. -"Of course they were', said the Dormouse "well in.' -This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse -go on for some time without interrupting it. -"They were learning to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and -rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy "and they drew -all manner of thingseverything that begins with an M' -"Why with an M?' said Alice. -"Why not?' said the March Hare. -Alice was silent. -The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going -off into a doze but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up -again with a little shriek, and went on "that begins with an -M, such as mousetraps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness -you know you say things are "much of a muchness"did you ever -see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?' -"Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, "I -don't think' -"Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter. -This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear she got -up in great disgust, and walked off the Dormouse fell asleep -instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her -going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that -they would call after her the last time she saw them, they were -trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot. -"At any rate I'll never go THERE again' said Alice as she -picked her way through the wood. "It's the stupidest teaparty I -ever was at in all my life' -Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a -door leading right into it. "That's very curious' she thought. -"But everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' -And in she went. -Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the -little glass table. "Now, I'll manage better this time,' -she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, -and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went -to work nibbling at the mushroom she had kept a piece of it -in her pocket till she was about a foot high then she walked down -the little passage and THENshe found herself at last in the -beautiful garden, among the bright flowerbeds and the cool fountains. -CHAPTER VIII -The Queen's CroquetGround -A large rosetree stood near the entrance of the garden the -roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at -it, busily painting them red. Alice thought this a very curious -thing, and she went nearer to watch them, and just as she came up -to them she heard one of them say, "Look out now, Five Don't go -splashing paint over me like that' -"I couldn't help it,' said Five, in a sulky tone "Seven jogged -my elbow.' -On which Seven looked up and said, "That's right, Five Always -lay the blame on others' -"YOU'D better not talk' said Five. "I heard the Queen say only -yesterday you deserved to be beheaded' -"What for?' said the one who had spoken first. -"That's none of YOUR business, Two' said Seven. -"Yes, it IS his business' said Five, "and I'll tell himit -was for bringing the cook tuliproots instead of onions.' -Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun "Well, of all -the unjust things' when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as -she stood watching them, and he checked himself suddenly the -others looked round also, and all of them bowed low. -"Would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, "why you are -painting those roses?' -Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a -low voice, "Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to -have been a RED rosetree, and we put a white one in by mistake -and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads -cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore -she comes, to' At this moment Five, who had been anxiously -looking across the garden, called out "The Queen The Queen' -and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon -their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice -looked round, eager to see the Queen. -First came ten soldiers carrying clubs these were all shaped -like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and -feet at the corners next the ten courtiers these were -ornamented all over with diamonds, and walked two and two, as the -soldiers did. After these came the royal children there were -ten of them, and the little dears came jumping merrily along hand -in hand, in couples they were all ornamented with hearts. Next -came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice -recognised the White Rabbit it was talking in a hurried nervous -manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went by without -noticing her. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the -King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion and, last of all this -grand procession, came THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS. -Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to lie down on -her face like the three gardeners, but she could not remember -ever having heard of such a rule at processions "and besides, -what would be the use of a procession,' thought she, "if people -had all to lie down upon their faces, so that they couldn't see it?' -So she stood still where she was, and waited. -When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped -and looked at her, and the Queen said severely "Who is this?' -She said it to the Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in reply. -"Idiot' said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently and, -turning to Alice, she went on, "What's your name, child?' -"My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,' said Alice very -politely but she added, to herself, "Why, they're only a pack of -cards, after all. I needn't be afraid of them' -"And who are THESE?' said the Queen, pointing to the three -gardeners who were lying round the rosetree for, you see, as -they were lying on their faces, and the pattern on their backs -was the same as the rest of the pack, she could not tell whether -they were gardeners, or soldiers, or courtiers, or three of her -own children. -"How should I know?' said Alice, surprised at her own courage. -"It's no business of MINE.' -The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glaring at her -for a moment like a wild beast, screamed "Off with her head -Off' -"Nonsense' said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the -Queen was silent. -The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly said -"Consider, my dear she is only a child' -The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said to the Knave -"Turn them over' -The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot. -"Get up' said the Queen, in a shrill, loud voice, and the -three gardeners instantly jumped up, and began bowing to the -King, the Queen, the royal children, and everybody else. -"Leave off that' screamed the Queen. "You make me giddy.' -And then, turning to the rosetree, she went on, "What HAVE you -been doing here?' -"May it please your Majesty,' said Two, in a very humble tone, -going down on one knee as he spoke, "we were trying' -"I see' said the Queen, who had meanwhile been examining the -roses. "Off with their heads' and the procession moved on, -three of the soldiers remaining behind to execute the unfortunate -gardeners, who ran to Alice for protection. -"You shan't be beheaded' said Alice, and she put them into a -large flowerpot that stood near. The three soldiers wandered -about for a minute or two, looking for them, and then quietly -marched off after the others. -"Are their heads off?' shouted the Queen. -"Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty' the soldiers -shouted in reply. -"That's right' shouted the Queen. "Can you play croquet?' -The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the question -was evidently meant for her. -"Yes' shouted Alice. -"Come on, then' roared the Queen, and Alice joined the -procession, wondering very much what would happen next. -"It'sit's a very fine day' said a timid voice at her side. -She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously -into her face. -"Very,' said Alice "where's the Duchess?' -"Hush Hush' said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone. He -looked anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and then raised -himself upon tiptoe, put his mouth close to her ear, and -whispered "She's under sentence of execution.' -"What for?' said Alice. -"Did you say "What a pity"?' the Rabbit asked. -"No, I didn't,' said Alice "I don't think it's at all a pity. -I said "What for?"' -"She boxed the Queen's ears' the Rabbit began. Alice gave a -little scream of laughter. "Oh, hush' the Rabbit whispered in a -frightened tone. "The Queen will hear you You see, she came -rather late, and the Queen said' -"Get to your places' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, -and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up -against each other however, they got settled down in a minute or -two, and the game began. Alice thought she had never seen such a -curious croquetground in her life it was all ridges and -furrows the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live -flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to -stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches. -The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her -flamingo she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, -comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, -but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened -out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it -WOULD twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a -puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing -and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, -it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled -itself, and was in the act of crawling away besides all this, -there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she -wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubledup soldiers -were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the -ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very -difficult game indeed. -The players all played at once without waiting for turns, -quarrelling all the while, and fighting for the hedgehogs and in -a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went -stamping about, and shouting "Off with his head' or "Off with -her head' about once in a minute. -Alice began to feel very uneasy to be sure, she had not as -yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might -happen any minute, "and then,' thought she, "what would become of -me? They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here the great -wonder is, that there's any one left alive' -She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering -whether she could get away without being seen, when she noticed a -curious appearance in the air it puzzled her very much at -first, but, after watching it a minute or two, she made it out to -be a grin, and she said to herself "It's the Cheshire Cat now I -shall have somebody to talk to.' -"How are you getting on?' said the Cat, as soon as there was -mouth enough for it to speak with. -Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded. "It's no -use speaking to it,' she thought, "till its ears have come, or at -least one of them.' In another minute the whole head appeared, -and then Alice put down her flamingo, and began an account of the -game, feeling very glad she had someone to listen to her. The -Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in sight, and -no more of it appeared. -"I don't think they play at all fairly,' Alice began, in rather -a complaining tone, "and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't -hear oneself speakand they don't seem to have any rules in -particular at least, if there are, nobody attends to themand -you've no idea how confusing it is all the things being alive -for instance, there's the arch I've got to go through next -walking about at the other end of the groundand I should have -croqueted the Queen's hedgehog just now, only it ran away when it -saw mine coming' -"How do you like the Queen?' said the Cat in a low voice. -"Not at all,' said Alice "she's so extremely' Just then -she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, listening so -she went on, "likely to win, that it's hardly worth while -finishing the game.' -The Queen smiled and passed on. -"Who ARE you talking to?' said the King, going up to Alice, and -looking at the Cat's head with great curiosity. -"It's a friend of minea Cheshire Cat,' said Alice "allow me -to introduce it.' -"I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King -"however, it may kiss my hand if it likes.' -"I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked. -"Don't be impertinent,' said the King, "and don't look at me -like that' He got behind Alice as he spoke. -"A cat may look at a king,' said Alice. "I've read that in -some book, but I don't remember where.' -"Well, it must be removed,' said the King very decidedly, and -he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, "My dear I -wish you would have this cat removed' -The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great -or small. "Off with his head' she said, without even looking -round. -"I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly, and -he hurried off. -Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game -was going on, as she heard the Queen's voice in the distance, -screaming with passion. She had already heard her sentence three -of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and -she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in -such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or -not. So she went in search of her hedgehog. -The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, -which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one -of them with the other the only difficulty was, that her -flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where -Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up -into a tree. -By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back, -the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight -"but it doesn't matter much,' thought Alice, "as all the arches -are gone from this side of the ground.' So she tucked it away -under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for -a little more conversation with her friend. -When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to -find quite a large crowd collected round it there was a dispute -going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who -were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent, -and looked very uncomfortable. -The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to -settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her, -though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed -to make out exactly what they said. -The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a -head unless there was a body to cut it off from that he had -never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin -at HIS time of life. -The King's argument was, that anything that had a head could be -beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense. -The Queen's argument was, that if something wasn't done about -it in less than no time she'd have everybody executed, all round. -It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so -grave and anxious. -Alice could think of nothing else to say but "It belongs to the -Duchess you'd better ask HER about it.' -"She's in prison,' the Queen said to the executioner "fetch -her here.' And the executioner went off like an arrow. -The Cat's head began fading away the moment he was gone, and, -by the time he had come back with the Dutchess, it had entirely -disappeared so the King and the executioner ran wildly up and down -looking for it, while the rest of the party went back to the game. -CHAPTER IX -The Mock Turtle's Story -"You can't think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old -thing' said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately -into Alice's, and they walked off together. -Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and -thought to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had -made her so savage when they met in the kitchen. -"When I'M a Duchess,' she said to herself, not in a very -hopeful tone though, "I won't have any pepper in my kitchen AT -ALL. Soup does very well withoutMaybe it's always pepper that -makes people hottempered,' she went on, very much pleased at -having found out a new kind of rule, "and vinegar that makes them -sourand camomile that makes them bitterandand barleysugar -and such things that make children sweettempered. I only wish -people knew that then they wouldn't be so stingy about it, you -know' -She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a -little startled when she heard her voice close to her ear. -"You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you -forget to talk. I can't tell you just now what the moral of that -is, but I shall remember it in a bit.' -"Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark. -"Tut, tut, child' said the Duchess. "Everything's got a -moral, if only you can find it.' And she squeezed herself up -closer to Alice's side as she spoke. -Alice did not much like keeping so close to her first, -because the Duchess was VERY ugly and secondly, because she was -exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice's shoulder, -and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not -like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could. -"The game's going on rather better now,' she said, by way of -keeping up the conversation a little. -"'Tis so,' said the Duchess "and the moral of that is"Oh, -'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round"' -"Somebody said,' Alice whispered, "that it's done by everybody -minding their own business' -"Ah, well It means much the same thing,' said the Duchess, -digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder as she added, -"and the moral of THAT is"Take care of the sense, and the -sounds will take care of themselves."' -"How fond she is of finding morals in things' Alice thought to -herself. -"I dare say you're wondering why I don't put my arm round your -waist,' the Duchess said after a pause "the reason is, that I'm -doubtful about the temper of your flamingo. Shall I try the -experiment?' -"HE might bite,' Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all -anxious to have the experiment tried. -"Very true,' said the Duchess "flamingoes and mustard both -bite. And the moral of that is"Birds of a feather flock -together."' -"Only mustard isn't a bird,' Alice remarked. -"Right, as usual,' said the Duchess "what a clear way you -have of putting things' -"It's a mineral, I THINK,' said Alice. -"Of course it is,' said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree -to everything that Alice said "there's a large mustardmine near -here. And the moral of that is"The more there is of mine, the -less there is of yours."' -"Oh, I know' exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this -last remark, "it's a vegetable. It doesn't look like one, but it -is.' -"I quite agree with you,' said the Duchess "and the moral of -that is"Be what you would seem to be"or if you'd like it put -more simply"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than -what it might appear to others that what you were or might have -been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared -to them to be otherwise."' -"I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very -politely, "if I had it written down but I can't quite follow it -as you say it.' -"That's nothing to what I could say if I chose,' the Duchess -replied, in a pleased tone. -"Pray don't trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,' -said Alice. -"Oh, don't talk about trouble' said the Duchess. "I make you -a present of everything I've said as yet.' -"A cheap sort of present' thought Alice. "I'm glad they don't -give birthday presents like that' But she did not venture to -say it out loud. -"Thinking again?' the Duchess asked, with another dig of her -sharp little chin. -"I've a right to think,' said Alice sharply, for she was -beginning to feel a little worried. -"Just about as much right,' said the Duchess, "as pigs have to fly -and the m' -But here, to Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's voice died -away, even in the middle of her favourite word "moral,' and the -arm that was linked into hers began to tremble. Alice looked up, -and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded, -frowning like a thunderstorm. -"A fine day, your Majesty' the Duchess began in a low, weak -voice. -"Now, I give you fair warning,' shouted the Queen, stamping on -the ground as she spoke "either you or your head must be off, -and that in about half no time Take your choice' -The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment. -"Let's go on with the game,' the Queen said to Alice and Alice -was too much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her -back to the croquetground. -The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen's absence, -and were resting in the shade however, the moment they saw her, -they hurried back to the game, the Queen merely remarking that a -moment's delay would cost them their lives. -All the time they were playing the Queen never left off -quarrelling with the other players, and shouting "Off with his -head' or "Off with her head' Those whom she sentenced were -taken into custody by the soldiers, who of course had to leave -off being arches to do this, so that by the end of half an hour -or so there were no arches left, and all the players, except the -King, the Queen, and Alice, were in custody and under sentence of -execution. -Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to -Alice, "Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?' -"No,' said Alice. "I don't even know what a Mock Turtle is.' -"It's the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,' said the Queen. -"I never saw one, or heard of one,' said Alice. -"Come on, then,' said the Queen, "and he shall tell you his -history,' -As they walked off together, Alice heard the King say in a low -voice, to the company generally, "You are all pardoned.' "Come, -THAT'S a good thing' she said to herself, for she had felt quite -unhappy at the number of executions the Queen had ordered. -They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the -sun. IF you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture. -"Up, lazy thing' said the Queen, "and take this young lady to -see the Mock Turtle, and to hear his history. I must go back and -see after some executions I have ordered' and she walked off, -leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon. Alice did not quite like -the look of the creature, but on the whole she thought it would -be quite as safe to stay with it as to go after that savage -Queen so she waited. -The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes then it watched the -Queen till she was out of sight then it chuckled. "What fun' -said the Gryphon, half to itself, half to Alice. -"What IS the fun?' said Alice. -"Why, SHE,' said the Gryphon. "It's all her fancy, that they -never executes nobody, you know. Come on' -"Everybody says "come on" here,' thought Alice, as she went -slowly after it "I never was so ordered about in all my life, -never' -They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the -distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and, -as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart -would break. She pitied him deeply. "What is his sorrow?' she -asked the Gryphon, and the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the -same words as before, "It's all his fancy, that he hasn't got -no sorrow, you know. Come on' -So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with -large eyes full of tears, but said nothing. -"This here young lady,' said the Gryphon, "she wants for to -know your history, she do.' -"I'll tell it her,' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow -tone "sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've -finished.' -So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice -thought to herself, "I don't see how he can EVEN finish, if he -doesn't begin.' But she waited patiently. -"Once,' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, "I was -a real Turtle.' -These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only -by an occasional exclamation of "Hjckrrh' from the Gryphon, and -the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle. Alice was very -nearly getting up and saying, "Thank you, sir, for your -interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there MUST be -more to come, so she sat still and said nothing. -"When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more -calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, "we went to -school in the sea. The master was an old Turtlewe used to call -him Tortoise' -"Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked. -"We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock -Turtle angrily "really you are very dull' -"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple -question,' added the Gryphon and then they both sat silent and -looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At -last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, "Drive on, old fellow -Don't be all day about it' and he went on in these words -"Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe -it' -"I never said I didn't' interrupted Alice. -"You did,' said the Mock Turtle. -"Hold your tongue' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak -again. The Mock Turtle went on. -"We had the best of educationsin fact, we went to school -every day' -"I'VE been to a dayschool, too,' said Alice "you needn't be -so proud as all that.' -"With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously. -"Yes,' said Alice, "we learned French and music.' -"And washing?' said the Mock Turtle. -"Certainly not' said Alice indignantly. -"Ah then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock -Turtle in a tone of great relief. "Now at OURS they had at the -end of the bill, "French, music, AND WASHINGextra."' -"You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice "living at the -bottom of the sea.' -"I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Mock Turtle with a -sigh. "I only took the regular course.' -"What was that?' inquired Alice. -"Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock -Turtle replied "and then the different branches of Arithmetic -Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.' -"I never heard of "Uglification,"' Alice ventured to say. "What is it?' -The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. "What Never -heard of uglifying' it exclaimed. "You know what to beautify is, -I suppose?' -"Yes,' said Alice doubtfully "it meanstomakeanythingprettier.' -"Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, "if you don't know what to -uglify is, you ARE a simpleton.' -Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about -it, so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said "What else had you -to learn?' -"Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting -off the subjects on his flappers, "Mystery, ancient and modern, -with Seaography then Drawlingthe Drawlingmaster was an old -congereel, that used to come once a week HE taught us -Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.' -"What was THAT like?' said Alice. -"Well, I can't show it you myself,' the Mock Turtle said "I'm -too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.' -"Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon "I went to the Classics -master, though. He was an old crab, HE was.' -"I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh "he -taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.' -"So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn -and both creatures hid their faces in their paws. -"And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a -hurry to change the subject. -"Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle "nine the -next, and so on.' -"What a curious plan' exclaimed Alice. -"That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon -remarked "because they lessen from day to day.' -This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a -little before she made her next remark. "Then the eleventh day -must have been a holiday?' -"Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle. -"And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Alice went on eagerly. -"That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted in a -very decided tone "tell her something about the games now.' -CHAPTER X -The Lobster Quadrille -The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper -across his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for -a minute or two sobs choked his voice. "Same as if he had a bone -in his throat,' said the Gryphon and it set to work shaking him -and punching him in the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered -his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on -again -"You may not have lived much under the sea' "I haven't,' said Alice -"and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster' -Alice began to say "I once tasted' but checked herself hastily, -and said "No, never' "so you can have no idea what a delightful -thing a Lobster Quadrille is' -"No, indeed,' said Alice. "What sort of a dance is it?' -"Why,' said the Gryphon, "you first form into a line along the seashore' -"Two lines' cried the Mock Turtle. "Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on -then, when you've cleared all the jellyfish out of the way' -"THAT generally takes some time,' interrupted the Gryphon. -"you advance twice' -"Each with a lobster as a partner' cried the Gryphon. -"Of course,' the Mock Turtle said "advance twice, set to -partners' -"change lobsters, and retire in same order,' continued the -Gryphon. -"Then, you know,' the Mock Turtle went on, "you throw the' -"The lobsters' shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air. -"as far out to sea as you can' -"Swim after them' screamed the Gryphon. -"Turn a somersault in the sea' cried the Mock Turtle, -capering wildly about. -"Change lobster's again' yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice. -"Back to land again, and that's all the first figure,' said the -Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice and the two creatures, -who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat -down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Alice. -"It must be a very pretty dance,' said Alice timidly. -"Would you like to see a little of it?' said the Mock Turtle. -"Very much indeed,' said Alice. -"Come, let's try the first figure' said the Mock Turtle to the -Gryphon. "We can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall -sing?' -"Oh, YOU sing,' said the Gryphon. "I've forgotten the words.' -So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now -and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and -waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle -sang this, very slowly and sadly -""Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail. -"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my -tail. -See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance -They are waiting on the shinglewill you come and join the -dance? -Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the -dance? -Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the -dance? -"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be -When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to -sea" -But the snail replied "Too far, too far" and gave a look -askance -Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the -dance. -Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join -the dance. -Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join -the dance. -""What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied. -"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. -The further off from England the nearer is to France -Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. -Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the -dance? -Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the -dance?"' -"Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch,' said -Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last "and I do so -like that curious song about the whiting' -"Oh, as to the whiting,' said the Mock Turtle, "theyyou've -seen them, of course?' -"Yes,' said Alice, "I've often seen them at dinn' she -checked herself hastily. -"I don't know where Dinn may be,' said the Mock Turtle, "but -if you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're -like.' -"I believe so,' Alice replied thoughtfully. "They have their -tails in their mouthsand they're all over crumbs.' -"You're wrong about the crumbs,' said the Mock Turtle -"crumbs would all wash off in the sea. But they HAVE their tails -in their mouths and the reason is' here the Mock Turtle -yawned and shut his eyes."Tell her about the reason and all -that,' he said to the Gryphon. -"The reason is,' said the Gryphon, "that they WOULD go with -the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So -they had to fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in -their mouths. So they couldn't get them out again. That's all.' -"Thank you,' said Alice, "it's very interesting. I never knew -so much about a whiting before.' -"I can tell you more than that, if you like,' said the -Gryphon. "Do you know why it's called a whiting?' -"I never thought about it,' said Alice. "Why?' -"IT DOES THE BOOTS AND SHOES.' the Gryphon replied very -solemnly. -Alice was thoroughly puzzled. "Does the boots and shoes' she -repeated in a wondering tone. -"Why, what are YOUR shoes done with?' said the Gryphon. "I -mean, what makes them so shiny?' -Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she -gave her answer. "They're done with blacking, I believe.' -"Boots and shoes under the sea,' the Gryphon went on in a deep -voice, "are done with a whiting. Now you know.' -"And what are they made of?' Alice asked in a tone of great -curiosity. -"Soles and eels, of course,' the Gryphon replied rather -impatiently "any shrimp could have told you that.' -"If I'd been the whiting,' said Alice, whose thoughts were -still running on the song, "I'd have said to the porpoise, "Keep -back, please we don't want YOU with us"' -"They were obliged to have him with them,' the Mock Turtle -said "no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.' -"Wouldn't it really?' said Alice in a tone of great surprise. -"Of course not,' said the Mock Turtle "why, if a fish came -to ME, and told me he was going a journey, I should say "With -what porpoise?"' -"Don't you mean "purpose"?' said Alice. -"I mean what I say,' the Mock Turtle replied in an offended -tone. And the Gryphon added "Come, let's hear some of YOUR -adventures.' -"I could tell you my adventuresbeginning from this morning,' -said Alice a little timidly "but it's no use going back to -yesterday, because I was a different person then.' -"Explain all that,' said the Mock Turtle. -"No, no The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an -impatient tone "explanations take such a dreadful time.' -So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when -she first saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about -it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on -each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so VERY wide, but she -gained courage as she went on. Her listeners were perfectly -quiet till she got to the part about her repeating "YOU ARE OLD, -FATHER WILLIAM,' to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming -different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said -"That's very curious.' -"It's all about as curious as it can be,' said the Gryphon. -"It all came different' the Mock Turtle repeated -thoughtfully. "I should like to hear her try and repeat -something now. Tell her to begin.' He looked at the Gryphon as -if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice. -"Stand up and repeat "'TIS THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD,"' said -the Gryphon. -"How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat -lessons' thought Alice "I might as well be at school at once.' -However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so -full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was -saying, and the words came very queer indeed -"'Tis the voice of the Lobster I heard him declare, -"You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair." -As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose -Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.' -[later editions continued as follows -When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, -And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark, -But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, -His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.] -"That's different from what I used to say when I was a child,' -said the Gryphon. -"Well, I never heard it before,' said the Mock Turtle "but it -sounds uncommon nonsense.' -Alice said nothing she had sat down with her face in her -hands, wondering if anything would EVER happen in a natural way -again. -"I should like to have it explained,' said the Mock Turtle. -"She can't explain it,' said the Gryphon hastily. "Go on with -the next verse.' -"But about his toes?' the Mock Turtle persisted. "How COULD -he turn them out with his nose, you know?' -"It's the first position in dancing.' Alice said but was -dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the -subject. -"Go on with the next verse,' the Gryphon repeated impatiently -"it begins "I passed by his garden."' -Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would -all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice -"I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, -How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie' -[later editions continued as follows -The Panther took piecrust, and gravy, and meat, -While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. -When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, -Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon -While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, -And concluded the banquet] -"What IS the use of repeating all that stuff,' the Mock Turtle -interrupted, "if you don't explain it as you go on? It's by far -the most confusing thing I ever heard' -"Yes, I think you'd better leave off,' said the Gryphon and -Alice was only too glad to do so. -"Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?' the -Gryphon went on. "Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you -a song?' -"Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,' -Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather -offended tone, "Hm No accounting for tastes Sing her -"Turtle Soup," will you, old fellow?' -The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes -choked with sobs, to sing this -"Beautiful Soup, so rich and green, -Waiting in a hot tureen -Who for such dainties would not stoop? -Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup -Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup -Beauootiful Soooop -Beauootiful Soooop -Soooop of the eeevening, -Beautiful, beautiful Soup -"Beautiful Soup Who cares for fish, -Game, or any other dish? -Who would not give all else for two p -ennyworth only of beautiful Soup? -Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup? -Beauootiful Soooop -Beauootiful Soooop -Soooop of the eeevening, -Beautiful, beautiFUL SOUP' -"Chorus again' cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had -just begun to repeat it, when a cry of "The trial's beginning' -was heard in the distance. -"Come on' cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, -it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song. -"What trial is it?' Alice panted as she ran but the Gryphon -only answered "Come on' and ran the faster, while more and more -faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the -melancholy words -"Soooop of the eeevening, -Beautiful, beautiful Soup' -CHAPTER XI -Who Stole the Tarts? -The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when -they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about themall sorts -of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards -the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on -each side to guard him and near the King was the White Rabbit, -with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the -other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large -dish of tarts upon it they looked so good, that it made Alice -quite hungry to look at them"I wish they'd get the trial done,' -she thought, "and hand round the refreshments' But there seemed -to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about -her, to pass away the time. -Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had -read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that -she knew the name of nearly everything there. "That's the -judge,' she said to herself, "because of his great wig.' -The judge, by the way, was the King and as he wore his crown -over the wig, look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he -did it, he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly -not becoming. -"And that's the jurybox,' thought Alice, "and those twelve -creatures,' she was obliged to say "creatures,' you see, because -some of them were animals, and some were birds, "I suppose they -are the jurors.' She said this last word two or three times over -to herself, being rather proud of it for she thought, and -rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the -meaning of it at all. However, "jurymen' would have done just -as well. -The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. -"What are they doing?' Alice whispered to the Gryphon. "They -can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.' -"They're putting down their names,' the Gryphon whispered in -reply, "for fear they should forget them before the end of the -trial.' -"Stupid things' Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but -she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, "Silence in -the court' and the King put on his spectacles and looked -anxiously round, to make out who was talking. -Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their -shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down "stupid things' -on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them -didn't know how to spell "stupid,' and that he had to ask his -neighbour to tell him. "A nice muddle their slates'll be in -before the trial's over' thought Alice. -One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This of course, -Alice could not stand, and she went round the court and got -behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of taking it -away. She did it so quickly that the poor little juror it was -Bill, the Lizard could not make out at all what had become of -it so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write -with one finger for the rest of the day and this was of very -little use, as it left no mark on the slate. -"Herald, read the accusation' said the King. -On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and -then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows -"The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, -All on a summer day -The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, -And took them quite away' -"Consider your verdict,' the King said to the jury. -"Not yet, not yet' the Rabbit hastily interrupted. "There's -a great deal to come before that' -"Call the first witness,' said the King and the White Rabbit -blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, "First -witness' -The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in -one hand and a piece of breadandbutter in the other. "I beg -pardon, your Majesty,' he began, "for bringing these in but I -hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for.' -"You ought to have finished,' said the King. "When did you -begin?' -The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into -the court, arminarm with the Dormouse. "Fourteenth of March, I -think it was,' he said. -"Fifteenth,' said the March Hare. -"Sixteenth,' added the Dormouse. -"Write that down,' the King said to the jury, and the jury -eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then -added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence. -"Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter. -"It isn't mine,' said the Hatter. -"Stolen' the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who -instantly made a memorandum of the fact. -"I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation -"I've none of my own. I'm a hatter.' -Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the -Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted. -"Give your evidence,' said the King "and don't be nervous, or -I'll have you executed on the spot.' -This did not seem to encourage the witness at all he kept -shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the -Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large piece out of his -teacup instead of the breadandbutter. -Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which -puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it was she was -beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at first she -would get up and leave the court but on second thoughts she -decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for -her. -"I wish you wouldn't squeeze so.' said the Dormouse, who was -sitting next to her. "I can hardly breathe.' -"I can't help it,' said Alice very meekly "I'm growing.' -"You've no right to grow here,' said the Dormouse. -"Don't talk nonsense,' said Alice more boldly "you know -you're growing too.' -"Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,' said the Dormouse -"not in that ridiculous fashion.' And he got up very sulkily -and crossed over to the other side of the court. -All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the -Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to -one of the officers of the court, "Bring me the list of the -singers in the last concert' on which the wretched Hatter -trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off. -"Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, "or I'll have -you executed, whether you're nervous or not.' -"I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a -trembling voice, "and I hadn't begun my teanot above a week -or soand what with the breadandbutter getting so thinand -the twinkling of the tea' -"The twinkling of the what?' said the King. -"It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied. -"Of course twinkling begins with a T' said the King sharply. -"Do you take me for a dunce? Go on' -"I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, "and most things -twinkled after thatonly the March Hare said' -"I didn't' the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry. -"You did' said the Hatter. -"I deny it' said the March Hare. -"He denies it,' said the King "leave out that part.' -"Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said' the Hatter went on, -looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too but the -Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep. -"After that,' continued the Hatter, "I cut some more bread -andbutter' -"But what did the Dormouse say?' one of the jury asked. -"That I can't remember,' said the Hatter. -"You MUST remember,' remarked the King, "or I'll have you -executed.' -The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and breadandbutter, -and went down on one knee. "I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' he -began. -"You're a very poor speaker,' said the King. -Here one of the guineapigs cheered, and was immediately -suppressed by the officers of the court. As that is rather a -hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done. They had -a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with strings -into this they slipped the guineapig, head first, and then sat -upon it. -"I'm glad I've seen that done,' thought Alice. "I've so often -read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, "There was some -attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the -officers of the court," and I never understood what it meant -till now.' -"If that's all you know about it, you may stand down,' -continued the King. -"I can't go no lower,' said the Hatter "I'm on the floor, as -it is.' -"Then you may SIT down,' the King replied. -Here the other guineapig cheered, and was suppressed. -"Come, that finished the guineapigs' thought Alice. "Now we -shall get on better.' -"I'd rather finish my tea,' said the Hatter, with an anxious -look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers. -"You may go,' said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the -court, without even waiting to put his shoes on. -"and just take his head off outside,' the Queen added to one -of the officers but the Hatter was out of sight before the -officer could get to the door. -"Call the next witness' said the King. -The next witness was the Duchess's cook. She carried the -pepperbox in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before -she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began -sneezing all at once. -"Give your evidence,' said the King. -"Shan't,' said the cook. -The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a -low voice, "Your Majesty must crossexamine THIS witness.' -"Well, if I must, I must,' the King said, with a melancholy -air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till -his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, "What -are tarts made of?' -"Pepper, mostly,' said the cook. -"Treacle,' said a sleepy voice behind her. -"Collar that Dormouse,' the Queen shrieked out. "Behead that -Dormouse Turn that Dormouse out of court Suppress him Pinch -him Off with his whiskers' -For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the -Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down -again, the cook had disappeared. -"Never mind' said the King, with an air of great relief. -"Call the next witness.' And he added in an undertone to the -Queen, "Really, my dear, YOU must crossexamine the next witness. -It quite makes my forehead ache' -Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, -feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like, -"for they haven't got much evidence YET,' she said to herself. -Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top -of his shrill little voice, the name "Alice' -CHAPTER XII -Alice's Evidence -"Here' cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the -moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she -jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jurybox with -the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads -of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding -her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset -the week before. -"Oh, I BEG your pardon' she exclaimed in a tone of great -dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, -for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and -she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once -and put back into the jurybox, or they would die. -"The trial cannot proceed,' said the King in a very grave -voice, "until all the jurymen are back in their proper places -ALL,' he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as -he said do. -Alice looked at the jurybox, and saw that, in her haste, she -had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing -was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable -to move. She soon got it out again, and put it right "not that -it signifies much,' she said to herself "I should think it -would be QUITE as much use in the trial one way up as the other.' -As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of -being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and -handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write -out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed -too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, -gazing up into the roof of the court. -"What do you know about this business?' the King said to -Alice. -"Nothing,' said Alice. -"Nothing WHATEVER?' persisted the King. -"Nothing whatever,' said Alice. -"That's very important,' the King said, turning to the jury. -They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when -the White Rabbit interrupted "UNimportant, your Majesty means, -of course,' he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and -making faces at him as he spoke. -"UNimportant, of course, I meant,' the King hastily said, and -went on to himself in an undertone, "importantunimportant -unimportantimportant' as if he were trying which word -sounded best. -Some of the jury wrote it down "important,' and some -"unimportant.' Alice could see this, as she was near enough to -look over their slates "but it doesn't matter a bit,' she -thought to herself. -At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily -writing in his notebook, cackled out "Silence' and read out -from his book, "Rule Fortytwo. ALL PERSONS MORE THAN A MILE -HIGH TO LEAVE THE COURT.' -Everybody looked at Alice. -"I'M not a mile high,' said Alice. -"You are,' said the King. -"Nearly two miles high,' added the Queen. -"Well, I shan't go, at any rate,' said Alice "besides, -that's not a regular rule you invented it just now.' -"It's the oldest rule in the book,' said the King. -"Then it ought to be Number One,' said Alice. -The King turned pale, and shut his notebook hastily. -"Consider your verdict,' he said to the jury, in a low, trembling -voice. -"There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,' said -the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry "this paper has -just been picked up.' -"What's in it?' said the Queen. -"I haven't opened it yet,' said the White Rabbit, "but it seems -to be a letter, written by the prisoner toto somebody.' -"It must have been that,' said the King, "unless it was -written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know.' -"Who is it directed to?' said one of the jurymen. -"It isn't directed at all,' said the White Rabbit "in fact, -there's nothing written on the OUTSIDE.' He unfolded the paper -as he spoke, and added "It isn't a letter, after all it's a set -of verses.' -"Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of -they jurymen. -"No, they're not,' said the White Rabbit, "and that's the -queerest thing about it.' The jury all looked puzzled. -"He must have imitated somebody else's hand,' said the King. -The jury all brightened up again. -"Please your Majesty,' said the Knave, "I didn't write it, and -they can't prove I did there's no name signed at the end.' -"If you didn't sign it,' said the King, "that only makes the -matter worse. You MUST have meant some mischief, or else you'd -have signed your name like an honest man.' -There was a general clapping of hands at this it was the -first really clever thing the King had said that day. -"That PROVES his guilt,' said the Queen. -"It proves nothing of the sort' said Alice. "Why, you don't -even know what they're about' -"Read them,' said the King. -The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. "Where shall I begin, -please your Majesty?' he asked. -"Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, "and go on -till you come to the end then stop.' -These were the verses the White Rabbit read -"They told me you had been to her, -And mentioned me to him -She gave me a good character, -But said I could not swim. -He sent them word I had not gone -We know it to be true -If she should push the matter on, -What would become of you? -I gave her one, they gave him two, -You gave us three or more -They all returned from him to you, -Though they were mine before. -If I or she should chance to be -Involved in this affair, -He trusts to you to set them free, -Exactly as we were. -My notion was that you had been -Before she had this fit -An obstacle that came between -Him, and ourselves, and it. -Don't let him know she liked them best, -For this must ever be -A secret, kept from all the rest, -Between yourself and me.' -"That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,' -said the King, rubbing his hands "so now let the jury' -"If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, she had -grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit -afraid of interrupting him, "I'll give him sixpence. I don't -believe there's an atom of meaning in it.' -The jury all wrote down on their slates, "SHE doesn't believe -there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to -explain the paper. -"If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, "that saves a -world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any. And -yet I don't know,' he went on, spreading out the verses on his -knee, and looking at them with one eye "I seem to see some -meaning in them, after all. "SAID I COULD NOT SWIM" you -can't swim, can you?' he added, turning to the Knave. -The Knave shook his head sadly. "Do I look like it?' he said. -Which he certainly did NOT, being made entirely of cardboard. -"All right, so far,' said the King, and he went on muttering -over the verses to himself ""WE KNOW IT TO BE TRUE" that's -the jury, of course "I GAVE HER ONE, THEY GAVE HIM TWO" why, -that must be what he did with the tarts, you know' -"But, it goes on "THEY ALL RETURNED FROM HIM TO YOU,"' said -Alice. -"Why, there they are' said the King triumphantly, pointing to -the tarts on the table. "Nothing can be clearer than THAT. -Then again"BEFORE SHE HAD THIS FIT" you never had fits, my -dear, I think?' he said to the Queen. -"Never' said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the -Lizard as she spoke. The unfortunate little Bill had left off -writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no -mark but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was -trickling down his face, as long as it lasted. -"Then the words don't FIT you,' said the King, looking round -the court with a smile. There was a dead silence. -"It's a pun' the King added in an offended tone, and -everybody laughed, "Let the jury consider their verdict,' the -King said, for about the twentieth time that day. -"No, no' said the Queen. "Sentence firstverdict afterwards.' -"Stuff and nonsense' said Alice loudly. "The idea of having -the sentence first' -"Hold your tongue' said the Queen, turning purple. -"I won't' said Alice. -"Off with her head' the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. -Nobody moved. -"Who cares for you?' said Alice, she had grown to her full -size by this time. "You're nothing but a pack of cards' -At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying -down upon her she gave a little scream, half of fright and half -of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on -the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently -brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the -trees upon her face. -"Wake up, Alice dear' said her sister "Why, what a long -sleep you've had' -"Oh, I've had such a curious dream' said Alice, and she told -her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange -Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about and -when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, "It WAS a -curious dream, dear, certainly but now run in to your tea it's -getting late.' So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she -ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been. -But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her -head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of -little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began -dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream -First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the -tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes -were looking up into hersshe could hear the very tones of her -voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back -the wandering hair that WOULD always get into her eyesand -still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place -around her became alive the strange creatures of her little -sister's dream. -The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried -bythe frightened Mouse splashed his way through the -neighbouring poolshe could hear the rattle of the teacups as -the March Hare and his friends shared their neverending meal, -and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate -guests to executiononce more the pigbaby was sneezing on the -Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around itonce -more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's -slatepencil, and the choking of the suppressed guineapigs, -filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable -Mock Turtle. -So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in -Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and -all would change to dull realitythe grass would be only -rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the -reedsthe rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep -bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd -boyand the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and -all thy other queer noises, would change she knew to the -confused clamour of the busy farmyardwhile the lowing of the -cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's -heavy sobs. -Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of -hers would, in the aftertime, be herself a grown woman and how -she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and -loving heart of her childhood and how she would gather about -her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager -with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of -Wonderland of long ago and how she would feel with all their -simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, -remembering her own childlife, and the happy summer days. -THE END -Project Gutenberg's The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - Etexts From The Original Internet Information Providers -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. 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Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg -Association / Illinois Benedictine College". -WRITE TO US We can be reached at -Project Gutenberg Director of Communications PGDIRCOM -Internet pgdircomvmd.cso.uiuc.edu -Bitnet pgdircomuiucvmd -CompuServe internetpgdircom.vmd.cso.uiuc.edu -Attmail internetvmd.cso.uiuc.edupgdircom -Drafted by CHARLES B. KRAMER, Attorney -CompuServe , -Internet .compuserve.com -Tel -ENDTHE SMALL PRINT FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTSVer...END -The Picture of Dorian Gray -by -Oscar Wilde -THE PREFACE -The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal -the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another -manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. -The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. -Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without -being charming. This is a fault. -Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. -For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things -mean only beauty. -There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. -Books are well written, or badly written. That is all. -The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban -seeing his own face in a glass. -The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of -Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man -forms part of the subjectmatter of the artist, but the morality -of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. -No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true -can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical -sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. -No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. -Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. -Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. -From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art -of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's -craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. -Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. -Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. -It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. -Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work -is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, -the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man -for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. -The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one -admires it intensely. -All art is quite useless. -OSCAR WILDE -CHAPTER -The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when -the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, -there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, -or the more delicate perfume of the pinkflowering thorn. -From the corner of the divan of Persian saddlebags on which -he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, -Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honeysweet and -honeycoloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed -hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs -and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted -across the long tussoresilk curtains that were stretched in front -of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, -and making him think of those pallid, jadefaced painters of Tokyo who, -through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile, -seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur -of the bees shouldering their way through the long unmown grass, -or circling with monotonous insistence round the dusty gilt horns of -the straggling woodbine, seemed to make the stillness more oppressive. -The dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ. -In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the fulllength -portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, -some little distance away, was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, -whose sudden disappearance some years ago caused, at the time, such public -excitement and gave rise to so many strange conjectures. -As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skilfully -mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face, and seemed -about to linger there. But he suddenly started up, and closing his eyes, -placed his fingers upon the lids, as though he sought to imprison within his -brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake. -"It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done," -said Lord Henry languidly. "You must certainly send it next year -to the Grosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. -Whenever I have gone there, there have been either so many people that I -have not been able to see the pictures, which was dreadful, or so many -pictures that I have not been able to see the people, which was worse. -The Grosvenor is really the only place." -"I don't think I shall send it anywhere," he answered, tossing his head -back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at Oxford. -"No, I won't send it anywhere." -Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement through -the thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls -from his heavy, opiumtainted cigarette. "Not send it anywhere? -My dear fellow, why? Have you any reason? What odd chaps you -painters are You do anything in the world to gain a reputation. -As soon as you have one, you seem to want to throw it away. -It is silly of you, for there is only one thing in the world worse -than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. -A portrait like this would set you far above all the young men in England, -and make the old men quite jealous, if old men are ever capable of -any emotion." -"I know you will laugh at me," he replied, "but I really can't exhibit it. -I have put too much of myself into it." -Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed. -"Yes, I knew you would but it is quite true, all the same." -"Too much of yourself in it Upon my word, Basil, -I didn't know you were so vain and I really can't see any resemblance -between you, with your rugged strong face and your coalblack hair, -and this young Adonis, who looks as if he was made out of ivory -and roseleaves. Why, my dear Basil, he is a Narcissus, and you -well, of course you have an intellectual expression and all that. -But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. -Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys -the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, -one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. -Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. -How perfectly hideous they are Except, of course, in the Church. -But then in the Church they don't think. A bishop keeps on saying at -the age of eighty what he was told to say when he was a boy of eighteen, -and as a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful. -Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, -but whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks. I feel quite -sure of that. He is some brainless beautiful creature who should be -always here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always -here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence. -Don't flatter yourself, Basil you are not in the least like -him." -"You don't understand me, Harry," answered the artist. "Of course I am -not like him. I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry -to look like him. You shrug your shoulders? I am telling you the truth. -There is a fatality about all physical and intellectual distinction, -the sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the faltering -steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one's fellows. -The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit -at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, -they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we -all should liveundisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. -They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. -Your rank and wealth, Harry my brains, such as they aremy art, whatever it -may be worth Dorian Gray's good lookswe shall all suffer for what the gods -have given us, suffer terribly." -"Dorian Gray? Is that his name?" asked Lord Henry, walking across -the studio towards Basil Hallward. -"Yes, that is his name. I didn't intend to tell it to you." -"But why not?" -"Oh, I can't explain. When I like people immensely, I never tell -their names to any one. It is like surrendering a part of them. -I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing -that can make modern life mysterious or marvellous to us. -The commonest thing is delightful if one only hides it. -When I leave town now I never tell my people where I am going. -If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It is a silly habit, -I dare say, but somehow it seems to bring a great deal of romance -into one's life. I suppose you think me awfully foolish -about it?" -"Not at all," answered Lord Henry, "not at all, my dear Basil. -You seem to forget that I am married, and the one charm of marriage is -that it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties. -I never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. -When we meetwe do meet occasionally, when we dine out together, or go -down to the Duke'swe tell each other the most absurd stories with the most -serious faces. My wife is very good at itmuch better, in fact, than I am. -She never gets confused over her dates, and I always do. But when she -does find me out, she makes no row at all. I sometimes wish she would -but she merely laughs at me." -"I hate the way you talk about your married life, Harry," -said Basil Hallward, strolling towards the door that led into -the garden. "I believe that you are really a very good husband, -but that you are thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues. -You are an extraordinary fellow. You never say a moral thing, -and you never do a wrong thing. Your cynicism is simply -a pose." -"Being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose I know," -cried Lord Henry, laughing and the two young men went out into the garden -together and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat that stood in the -shade of a tall laurel bush. The sunlight slipped over the polished leaves. -In the grass, white daisies were tremulous. -After a pause, Lord Henry pulled out his watch. "I am afraid I -must be going, Basil," he murmured, "and before I go, I insist -on your answering a question I put to you some time ago." -"What is that?" said the painter, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. -"You know quite well." -"I do not, Harry." -"Well, I will tell you what it is. I want you to explain to me why you -won't exhibit Dorian Gray's picture. I want the real reason." -"I told you the real reason." -"No, you did not. You said it was because there was too much -of yourself in it. Now, that is childish." -"Harry," said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, -"every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, -not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. -It is not he who is revealed by the painter it is rather the painter who, -on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit -this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my -own soul." -Lord Henry laughed. "And what is that?" he asked. -"I will tell you," said Hallward but an expression of perplexity -came over his face. -"I am all expectation, Basil," continued his companion, -glancing at him. -"Oh, there is really very little to tell, Harry," answered the painter -"and I am afraid you will hardly understand it. Perhaps you will hardly -believe it." -Lord Henry smiled, and leaning down, plucked a pinkpetalled daisy from -the grass and examined it. "I am quite sure I shall understand it," -he replied, gazing intently at the little golden, whitefeathered disk, -"and as for believing things, I can believe anything, provided that it is -quite incredible." -The wind shook some blossoms from the trees, and the heavy lilacblooms, -with their clustering stars, moved to and fro in the languid air. -A grasshopper began to chirrup by the wall, and like a blue thread -a long thin dragonfly floated past on its brown gauze wings. -Lord Henry felt as if he could hear Basil Hallward's heart beating, -and wondered what was coming. -"The story is simply this," said the painter after some time. -"Two months ago I went to a crush at Lady Brandon's. You know -we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time -to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages. -With an evening coat and a white tie, as you told me once, anybody, -even a stockbroker, can gain a reputation for being civilized. -Well, after I had been in the room about ten minutes, -talking to huge overdressed dowagers and tedious academicians, -I suddenly became conscious that some one was looking at me. -I turned halfway round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. -When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. -A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I -had come face to face with some one whose mere personality -was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would -absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. -I did not want any external influence in my life. -You know yourself, Harry, how independent I am by nature. -I have always been my own master had at least always been so, -till I met Dorian Gray. Thenbut I don't know how to explain -it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge -of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that -fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. -I grew afraid and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience -that made me do so it was a sort of cowardice. I take no -credit to myself for trying to escape." -"Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. -Conscience is the tradename of the firm. That is all." -"I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. -However, whatever was my motiveand it may have been pride, -for I used to be very proudI certainly struggled to the door. -There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not -going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. -You know her curiously shrill voice?" -"Yes she is a peacock in everything but beauty," said Lord Henry, -pulling the daisy to bits with his long nervous fingers. -"I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to royalties, -and people with stars and garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic -tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. -I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. -I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, -at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is -the nineteenthcentury standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself -face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely -stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. -It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. -Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. -We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. -I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we -were destined to know each other." -"And how did Lady Brandon describe this wonderful young man?" -asked his companion. "I know she goes in for giving -a rapid precis of all her guests. I remember her bringing -me up to a truculent and redfaced old gentleman covered -all over with orders and ribbons, and hissing into my ear, -in a tragic whisper which must have been perfectly audible -to everybody in the room, the most astounding details. -I simply fled. I like to find out people for myself. -But Lady Brandon treats her guests exactly as an auctioneer -treats his goods. She either explains them entirely away, -or tells one everything about them except what one wants -to know." -"Poor Lady Brandon You are hard on her, Harry" said Hallward listlessly. -"My dear fellow, she tried to found a salon, and only succeeded -in opening a restaurant. How could I admire her? But tell me, -what did she say about Mr. Dorian Gray?" -"Oh, something like, 'Charming boypoor dear mother and I -absolutely inseparable. Quite forget what he doesafraid he -doesn't do anythingoh, yes, plays the pianoor is it -the violin, dear Mr. Gray?' Neither of us could help laughing, -and we became friends at once." -"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, -and it is far the best ending for one," said the young lord, -plucking another daisy. -Hallward shook his head. "You don't understand what friendship is, Harry," -he murmured"or what enmity is, for that matter. You like every one -that is to say, you are indifferent to every one." -"How horribly unjust of you" cried Lord Henry, tilting his hat back -and looking up at the little clouds that, like ravelled skeins of glossy -white silk, were drifting across the hollowed turquoise of the summer sky. -"Yes horribly unjust of you. I make a great difference between people. -I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for -their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. -A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. I have not -got one who is a fool. They are all men of some intellectual power, -and consequently they all appreciate me. Is that very vain of me? -I think it is rather vain." -"I should think it was, Harry. But according to your category I -must be merely an acquaintance." -"My dear old Basil, you are much more than an acquaintance." -"And much less than a friend. A sort of brother, I suppose?" -"Oh, brothers I don't care for brothers. My elder brother won't die, -and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else." -"Harry" exclaimed Hallward, frowning. -"My dear fellow, I am not quite serious. But I can't help detesting -my relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us -can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves. -I quite sympathize with the rage of the English democracy against -what they call the vices of the upper orders. The masses feel -that drunkenness, stupidity, and immorality should be their own -special property, and that if any one of us makes an ass of himself, -he is poaching on their preserves. When poor Southwark got -into the divorce court, their indignation was quite magnificent. -And yet I don't suppose that ten per cent of the proletariat -live correctly." -"I don't agree with a single word that you have said, and, what is more, -Harry, I feel sure you don't either." -Lord Henry stroked his pointed brown beard and tapped the toe -of his patentleather boot with a tasselled ebony cane. -"How English you are Basil That is the second time you -have made that observation. If one puts forward an idea -to a true Englishmanalways a rash thing to dohe never -dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong. -The only thing he considers of any importance is whether one -believes it oneself. Now, the value of an idea has nothing -whatsoever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it. -Indeed, the probabilities are that the more insincere -the man is, the more purely intellectual will the idea be, -as in that case it will not be coloured by either his wants, -his desires, or his prejudices. However, I don't propose -to discuss politics, sociology, or metaphysics with you. -I like persons better than principles, and I like persons -with no principles better than anything else in the world. -Tell me more about Mr. Dorian Gray. How often do you -see him?" -"Every day. I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day. -He is absolutely necessary to me." -"How extraordinary I thought you would never care for anything -but your art." -"He is all my art to me now," said the painter gravely. -"I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any -importance in the world's history. The first is the appearance -of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance -of a new personality for art also. What the invention -of oilpainting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinous -was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will -some day be to me. It is not merely that I paint from him, -draw from him, sketch from him. Of course, I have done all that. -But he is much more to me than a model or a sitter. -I won't tell you that I am dissatisfied with what I have done -of him, or that his beauty is such that art cannot express it. -There is nothing that art cannot express, and I know that -the work I have done, since I met Dorian Gray, is good work, -is the best work of my life. But in some curious wayI wonder -will you understand me?his personality has suggested to me -an entirely new manner in art, an entirely new mode of style. -I see things differently, I think of them differently. -I can now recreate life in a way that was hidden from me before. -'A dream of form in days of thought'who is it who says that? -I forget but it is what Dorian Gray has been to me. -The merely visible presence of this ladfor he seems to me -little more than a lad, though he is really over twenty -his merely visible presenceah I wonder can you realize -all that that means? Unconsciously he defines for me -the lines of a fresh school, a school that is to have in it -all the passion of the romantic spirit, all the perfection -of the spirit that is Greek. The harmony of soul and body -how much that is We in our madness have separated the two, -and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that -is void. Harry if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me -You remember that landscape of mine, for which Agnew offered -me such a huge price but which I would not part with? -It is one of the best things I have ever done. And why -is it so? Because, while I was painting it, Dorian Gray sat -beside me. Some subtle influence passed from him to me, -and for the first time in my life I saw in the plain -woodland the wonder I had always looked for and always -missed." -"Basil, this is extraordinary I must see Dorian Gray." -Hallward got up from the seat and walked up and down the garden. -After some time he came back. "Harry," he said, "Dorian Gray -is to me simply a motive in art. You might see nothing in him. -I see everything in him. He is never more present in my work than -when no image of him is there. He is a suggestion, as I have said, -of a new manner. I find him in the curves of certain lines, -in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. -That is all." -"Then why won't you exhibit his portrait?" asked Lord Henry. -"Because, without intending it, I have put into it some expression -of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, -I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. -He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it, -and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. -My heart shall never be put under their microscope. There is too much -of myself in the thing, Harrytoo much of myself" -"Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion -is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions." -"I hate them for it," cried Hallward. "An artist should create -beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. -We live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form -of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. -Some day I will show the world what it is and for that reason the world -shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray." -"I think you are wrong, Basil, but I won't argue with you. -It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue. Tell me, -is Dorian Gray very fond of you?" -The painter considered for a few moments. "He likes me," -he answered after a pause "I know he likes me. Of course I -flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying -things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. -As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk -of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly -thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. -Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some -one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, -a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a -summer's day." -"Days in summer, Basil, are apt to linger," murmured Lord Henry. -"Perhaps you will tire sooner than he will. It is a sad thing to think of, -but there is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty. That accounts -for the fact that we all take such pains to overeducate ourselves. -In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, -and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping -our place. The thoroughly wellinformed manthat is the modern ideal. -And the mind of the thoroughly wellinformed man is a dreadful thing. -It is like a bricabrac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything -priced above its proper value. I think you will tire first, all the same. -Some day you will look at your friend, and he will seem to you to be a little -out of drawing, or you won't like his tone of colour, or something. You will -bitterly reproach him in your own heart, and seriously think that he has -behaved very badly to you. The next time he calls, you will be perfectly -cold and indifferent. It will be a great pity, for it will alter you. -What you have told me is quite a romance, a romance of art one might call it, -and the worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one -so unromantic." -"Harry, don't talk like that. As long as I live, the personality -of Dorian Gray will dominate me. You can't feel what I feel. -You change too often." -"Ah, my dear Basil, that is exactly why I can feel it. -Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love -it is the faithless who know love's tragedies." And Lord -Henry struck a light on a dainty silver case and began -to smoke a cigarette with a selfconscious and satisfied air, -as if he had summed up the world in a phrase. There was -a rustle of chirruping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves -of the ivy, and the blue cloudshadows chased themselves across -the grass like swallows. How pleasant it was in the garden -And how delightful other people's emotions were -much more delightful than their ideas, it seemed to him. -One's own soul, and the passions of one's friendsthose were -the fascinating things in life. He pictured to himself -with silent amusement the tedious luncheon that he had missed -by staying so long with Basil Hallward. Had he gone to his -aunt's, he would have been sure to have met Lord Goodbody there, -and the whole conversation would have been about the feeding -of the poor and the necessity for model lodginghouses. Each -class would have preached the importance of those virtues, -for whose exercise there was no necessity in their own lives. -The rich would have spoken on the value of thrift, -and the idle grown eloquent over the dignity of labour. -It was charming to have escaped all that As he thought of his aunt, -an idea seemed to strike him. He turned to Hallward and said, -"My dear fellow, I have just remembered." -"Remembered what, Harry?" -"Where I heard the name of Dorian Gray." -"Where was it?" asked Hallward, with a slight frown. -"Don't look so angry, Basil. It was at my aunt, Lady Agatha's. -She told me she had discovered a wonderful young man who was going -to help her in the East End, and that his name was Dorian Gray. -I am bound to state that she never told me he was goodlooking. Women -have no appreciation of good looks at least, good women have not. -She said that he was very earnest and had a beautiful nature. -I at once pictured to myself a creature with spectacles and lank hair, -horribly freckled, and tramping about on huge feet. I wish I had known it -was your friend." -"I am very glad you didn't, Harry." -"Why?" -"I don't want you to meet him." -"You don't want me to meet him?" -"No." -"Mr. Dorian Gray is in the studio, sir," said the butler, -coming into the garden. -"You must introduce me now," cried Lord Henry, laughing. -The painter turned to his servant, who stood blinking in the sunlight. -"Ask Mr. Gray to wait, Parker I shall be in in a few moments." -The man bowed and went up the walk. -Then he looked at Lord Henry. "Dorian Gray is my dearest friend," -he said. "He has a simple and a beautiful nature. Your aunt -was quite right in what she said of him. Don't spoil him. -Don't try to influence him. Your influence would be bad. -The world is wide, and has many marvellous people in it. -Don't take away from me the one person who gives to my art -whatever charm it possesses my life as an artist depends -on him. Mind, Harry, I trust you." He spoke very slowly, -and the words seemed wrung out of him almost against -his will. -"What nonsense you talk" said Lord Henry, smiling, and taking Hallward -by the arm, he almost led him into the house. -CHAPTER -As they entered they saw Dorian Gray. He was seated at the piano, -with his back to them, turning over the pages of a volume of Schumann's -"Forest Scenes." "You must lend me these, Basil," he cried. -"I want to learn them. They are perfectly charming." -"That entirely depends on how you sit today, Dorian." -"Oh, I am tired of sitting, and I don't want a lifesized portrait -of myself," answered the lad, swinging round on the musicstool -in a wilful, petulant manner. When he caught sight of Lord Henry, -a faint blush coloured his cheeks for a moment, and he started up. -"I beg your pardon, Basil, but I didn't know you had any one -with you." -"This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian, an old Oxford friend of mine. -I have just been telling him what a capital sitter you were, -and now you have spoiled everything." -"You have not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Gray," -said Lord Henry, stepping forward and extending his hand. -"My aunt has often spoken to me about you. You are one of -her favourites, and, I am afraid, one of her victims also." -"I am in Lady Agatha's black books at present," answered Dorian -with a funny look of penitence. "I promised to go to a club in -Whitechapel with her last Tuesday, and I really forgot all about it. -We were to have played a duet togetherthree duets, I believe. -I don't know what she will say to me. I am far too frightened -to call." -"Oh, I will make your peace with my aunt. She is quite devoted to you. -And I don't think it really matters about your not being there. The audience -probably thought it was a duet. When Aunt Agatha sits down to the piano, -she makes quite enough noise for two people." -"That is very horrid to her, and not very nice to me," -answered Dorian, laughing. -Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome, -with his finely curved scarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp -gold hair. There was something in his face that made one trust him at once. -All the candour of youth was there, as well as all youth's passionate purity. -One felt that he had kept himself unspotted from the world. No wonder Basil -Hallward worshipped him. -"You are too charming to go in for philanthropy, Mr. Grayfar too charming." -And Lord Henry flung himself down on the divan and opened his cigarettecase. -The painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes ready. -He was looking worried, and when he heard Lord Henry's last remark, he glanced -at him, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Harry, I want to finish this -picture today. Would you think it awfully rude of me if I asked you to -go away?" -Lord Henry smiled and looked at Dorian Gray. "Am I to go, Mr. Gray?" -he asked. -"Oh, please don't, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his sulky moods, -and I can't bear him when he sulks. Besides, I want you to tell me why I -should not go in for philanthropy." -"I don't know that I shall tell you that, Mr. Gray. It is so -tedious a subject that one would have to talk seriously about it. -But I certainly shall not run away, now that you have asked me to stop. -You don't really mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you -liked your sitters to have some one to chat to." -Hallward bit his lip. "If Dorian wishes it, of course you must stay. -Dorian's whims are laws to everybody, except himself." -Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves. "You are very pressing, Basil, but I -am afraid I must go. I have promised to meet a man at the Orleans. -Goodbye, Mr. Gray. Come and see me some afternoon in Curzon Street. -I am nearly always at home at five o'clock. Write to me when you are coming. -I should be sorry to miss you." -"Basil," cried Dorian Gray, "if Lord Henry Wotton goes, I shall go, too. -You never open your lips while you are painting, and it is horribly dull -standing on a platform and trying to look pleasant. Ask him to stay. -I insist upon it." -"Stay, Harry, to oblige Dorian, and to oblige me," said Hallward, -gazing intently at his picture. "It is quite true, I never talk -when I am working, and never listen either, and it must be dreadfully -tedious for my unfortunate sitters. I beg you to stay." -"But what about my man at the Orleans?" -The painter laughed. "I don't think there will be any difficulty about that. -Sit down again, Harry. And now, Dorian, get up on the platform, and don't -move about too much, or pay any attention to what Lord Henry says. -He has a very bad influence over all his friends, with the single exception -of myself." -Dorian Gray stepped up on the dais with the air of a young Greek martyr, -and made a little moue of discontent to Lord Henry, to whom he had rather -taken a fancy. He was so unlike Basil. They made a delightful contrast. -And he had such a beautiful voice. After a few moments he said to him, -"Have you really a very bad influence, Lord Henry? As bad as Basil says?" -"There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. -All influence is immoralimmoral from the scientific point -of view." -"Why?" -"Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul. -He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. -His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things -as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else's music, -an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life -is selfdevelopment. To realize one's nature perfectlythat is what -each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. -They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes -to one's self. Of course, they are charitable. They feed the hungry -and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. -Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. -The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, -which is the secret of religionthese are the two things that govern us. -And yet" -"Just turn your head a little more to the right, Dorian, like a good boy," -said the painter, deep in his work and conscious only that a look had come -into the lad's face that he had never seen there before. -"And yet," continued Lord Henry, in his low, musical voice, -and with that graceful wave of the hand that was always so -characteristic of him, and that he had even in his Eton days, -"I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully -and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to -every thought, reality to every dreamI believe that the world -would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all -the maladies of mediaevalism, and return to the Hellenic ideal -to something finer, richer than the Hellenic ideal, it may be. -But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself. -The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the -selfdenial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. -Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind -and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, -for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then -but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. -The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. -Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things -it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous -laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said -that the great events of the world take place in the brain. -It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins -of the world take place also. You, Mr. Gray, you yourself, -with your rosered youth and your rosewhite boyhood, you have had -passions that have made you afraid, thoughts that have filled you -with terror, daydreams and sleeping dreams whose mere memory might -stain your cheek with shame" -"Stop" faltered Dorian Gray, "stop you bewilder me. -I don't know what to say. There is some answer to you, but I -cannot find it. Don't speak. Let me think. Or, rather, let me -try not to think." -For nearly ten minutes he stood there, motionless, with parted -lips and eyes strangely bright. He was dimly conscious -that entirely fresh influences were at work within him. -Yet they seemed to him to have come really from himself. -The few words that Basil's friend had said to himwords spoken -by chance, no doubt, and with wilful paradox in them -had touched some secret chord that had never been touched before, -but that he felt was now vibrating and throbbing to -curious pulses. -Music had stirred him like that. Music had troubled him many times. -But music was not articulate. It was not a new world, but rather -another chaos, that it created in us. Words Mere words -How terrible they were How clear, and vivid, and cruel One could -not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them -They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, -and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. -Mere words Was there anything so real as words? -Yes there had been things in his boyhood that he had not understood. -He understood them now. Life suddenly became fierycoloured to him. -It seemed to him that he had been walking in fire. Why had he not -known it? -With his subtle smile, Lord Henry watched him. He knew the precise -psychological moment when to say nothing. He felt intensely interested. -He was amazed at the sudden impression that his words had produced, -and, remembering a book that he had read when he was sixteen, -a book which had revealed to him much that he had not known before, -he wondered whether Dorian Gray was passing through a similar experience. -He had merely shot an arrow into the air. Had it hit the mark? -How fascinating the lad was -Hallward painted away with that marvellous bold touch of his, -that had the true refinement and perfect delicacy that in art, -at any rate comes only from strength. He was unconscious of -the silence. -"Basil, I am tired of standing," cried Dorian Gray suddenly. -"I must go out and sit in the garden. The air is stifling here." -"My dear fellow, I am so sorry. When I am painting, -I can't think of anything else. But you never sat better. -You were perfectly still. And I have caught the effect I wanted -the halfparted lips and the bright look in the eyes. -I don't know what Harry has been saying to you, but he has -certainly made you have the most wonderful expression. -I suppose he has been paying you compliments. You mustn't believe -a word that he says." -"He has certainly not been paying me compliments. Perhaps that is the reason -that I don't believe anything he has told me." -"You know you believe it all," said Lord Henry, looking at him with -his dreamy languorous eyes. "I will go out to the garden with you. -It is horribly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced -to drink, something with strawberries in it." -"Certainly, Harry. Just touch the bell, and when Parker comes I -will tell him what you want. I have got to work up this background, -so I will join you later on. Don't keep Dorian too long. -I have never been in better form for painting than I am today. This -is going to be my masterpiece. It is my masterpiece as it stands." -Lord Henry went out to the garden and found Dorian Gray burying his face in -the great cool lilacblossoms, feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it -had been wine. He came close to him and put his hand upon his shoulder. -"You are quite right to do that," he murmured. "Nothing can cure the soul -but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." -The lad started and drew back. He was bareheaded, and the leaves -had tossed his rebellious curls and tangled all their gilded threads. -There was a look of fear in his eyes, such as people have when they -are suddenly awakened. His finely chiselled nostrils quivered, -and some hidden nerve shook the scarlet of his lips and left -them trembling. -"Yes," continued Lord Henry, "that is one of the great secrets of life -to cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of the soul. -You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you think you know, just as -you know less than you want to know." -Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head away. He could not help -liking the tall, graceful young man who was standing by him. -His romantic, olivecoloured face and worn expression interested him. -There was something in his low languid voice that was absolutely fascinating. -His cool, white, flowerlike hands, even, had a curious charm. -They moved, as he spoke, like music, and seemed to have a language -of their own. But he felt afraid of him, and ashamed of being afraid. -Why had it been left for a stranger to reveal him to himself? -He had known Basil Hallward for months, but the friendship between them -had never altered him. Suddenly there had come some one across his life -who seemed to have disclosed to him life's mystery. And, yet, what was -there to be afraid of? He was not a schoolboy or a girl. It was absurd to -be frightened. -"Let us go and sit in the shade," said Lord Henry. "Parker has -brought out the drinks, and if you stay any longer in this glare, -you will be quite spoiled, and Basil will never paint you again. -You really must not allow yourself to become sunburnt. It would -be unbecoming." -"What can it matter?" cried Dorian Gray, laughing, as he sat -down on the seat at the end of the garden. -"It should matter everything to you, Mr. Gray." -"Why?" -"Because you have the most marvellous youth, and youth is the one thing -worth having." -"I don't feel that, Lord Henry." -"No, you don't feel it now. Some day, when you are old -and wrinkled and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead -with its lines, and passion branded your lips with its -hideous fires, you will feel it, you will feel it terribly. -Now, wherever you go, you charm the world. Will it always -be so? . . . You have a wonderfully beautiful face, Mr. Gray. -Don't frown. You have. And beauty is a form of genius -is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. -It is of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, -or springtime, or the reflection in dark waters of that silver -shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine -right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it. -You smile? Ah when you have lost it you won't smile. -. . . People say sometimes that beauty is only superficial. -That may be so, but at least it is not so superficial -as thought is. To me, beauty is the wonder of wonders. -It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. -The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. -. . . Yes, Mr. Gray, the gods have been good to you. -But what the gods give they quickly take away. You have only -a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully. -When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you -will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, -or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that -the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats. -Every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something dreadful. -Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. -You will become sallow, and hollowcheeked, and dulleyed. -You will suffer horribly.... Ah realize your youth -while you have it. Don't squander the gold of your days, -listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, -or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, -and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, -of our age. Live Live the wonderful life that is in you -Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for -new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. . . . A new Hedonism -that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol. -With your personality there is nothing you could not do. -The world belongs to you for a season. . . . The moment I met -you I saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are, -of what you really might be. There was so much in you that -charmed me that I felt I must tell you something about yourself. -I thought how tragic it would be if you were wasted. For there is -such a little time that your youth will lastsuch a little time. -The common hillflowers wither, but they blossom again. -The laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now. -In a month there will be purple stars on the clematis, and year -after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars. -But we never get back our youth. The pulse of joy that beats in us -at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. -We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory -of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the -exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. -Youth Youth There is absolutely nothing in the world but -youth" -Dorian Gray listened, openeyed and wondering. The spray -of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel. A furry bee came -and buzzed round it for a moment. Then it began to scramble -all over the oval stellated globe of the tiny blossoms. -He watched it with that strange interest in trivial things -that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid, -or when we are stirred by some new emotion for which we -cannot find expression, or when some thought that terrifies -us lays sudden siege to the brain and calls on us to yield. -After a time the bee flew away. He saw it creeping into the stained -trumpet of a Tyrian convolvulus. The flower seemed to quiver, -and then swayed gently to and fro. -Suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio and made staccato -signs for them to come in. They turned to each other and smiled. -"I am waiting," he cried. "Do come in. The light is quite perfect, -and you can bring your drinks." -They rose up and sauntered down the walk together. Two greenandwhite -butterflies fluttered past them, and in the peartree at the corner -of the garden a thrush began to sing. -"You are glad you have met me, Mr. Gray," said Lord Henry, -looking at him. -"Yes, I am glad now. I wonder shall I always be glad?" -"Always That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. -Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make -it last for ever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only difference -between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the caprice lasts a -little longer." -As they entered the studio, Dorian Gray put his hand upon Lord Henry's arm. -"In that case, let our friendship be a caprice," he murmured, flushing at his -own boldness, then stepped up on the platform and resumed his pose. -Lord Henry flung himself into a large wicker armchair and watched him. -The sweep and dash of the brush on the canvas made the only sound -that broke the stillness, except when, now and then, Hallward stepped -back to look at his work from a distance. In the slanting beams -that streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden. -The heavy scent of the roses seemed to brood over everything. -After about a quarter of an hour Hallward stopped painting, -looked for a long time at Dorian Gray, and then for a long -time at the picture, biting the end of one of his huge brushes -and frowning. "It is quite finished," he cried at last, -and stooping down he wrote his name in long vermilion letters on -the lefthand corner of the canvas. -Lord Henry came over and examined the picture. It was certainly -a wonderful work of art, and a wonderful likeness as well. -"My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly," he said. -"It is the finest portrait of modern times. Mr. Gray, come over -and look at yourself." -The lad started, as if awakened from some dream. -"Is it really finished?" he murmured, stepping down from the platform. -"Quite finished," said the painter. "And you have sat splendidly -today. I am awfully obliged to you." -"That is entirely due to me," broke in Lord Henry. "Isn't it, -Mr. Gray?" -Dorian made no answer, but passed listlessly in front of his -picture and turned towards it. When he saw it he drew back, -and his cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure. A look of joy came -into his eyes, as if he had recognized himself for the first time. -He stood there motionless and in wonder, dimly conscious that Hallward -was speaking to him, but not catching the meaning of his words. -The sense of his own beauty came on him like a revelation. -He had never felt it before. Basil Hallward's compliments had seemed -to him to be merely the charming exaggeration of friendship. -He had listened to them, laughed at them, forgotten them. -They had not influenced his nature. Then had come Lord Henry -Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his terrible warning -of its brevity. That had stirred him at the time, and now, -as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness, the full -reality of the description flashed across him. Yes, there would -be a day when his face would be wrinkled and wizen, his eyes dim -and colourless, the grace of his figure broken and deformed. -The scarlet would pass away from his lips and the gold steal from -his hair. The life that was to make his soul would mar his body. -He would become dreadful, hideous, and uncouth. -As he thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through him -like a knife and made each delicate fibre of his nature quiver. -His eyes deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist -of tears. He felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon -his heart. -"Don't you like it?" cried Hallward at last, stung a little -by the lad's silence, not understanding what it meant. -"Of course he likes it," said Lord Henry. "Who wouldn't like it? -It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you -anything you like to ask for it. I must have it." -"It is not my property, Harry." -"Whose property is it?" -"Dorian's, of course," answered the painter. -"He is a very lucky fellow." -"How sad it is" murmured Dorian Gray with his eyes still fixed upon -his own portrait. "How sad it is I shall grow old, and horrible, -and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. -It will never be older than this particular day of June. -. . . If it were only the other way If it were I who was -to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old -For thatfor thatI would give everything Yes, there is -nothing in the whole world I would not give I would give my soul -for that" -"You would hardly care for such an arrangement, Basil," cried Lord -Henry, laughing. "It would be rather hard lines on your work." -"I should object very strongly, Harry," said Hallward. -Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. -You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you -than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say." -The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. -What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his -cheeks burning. -"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your -silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? -Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one -loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. -Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. -Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I -shall kill myself." -Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian Dorian" he cried, -"don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall -never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, are you? -you who are finer than any of them" -"I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. -I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. -Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes -takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it -were only the other way If the picture could change, -and I could be always what I am now Why did you paint it? -It will mock me some daymock me horribly" The hot tears -welled into his eyes he tore his hand away and, flinging himself -on the divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he -was praying. -"This is your doing, Harry," said the painter bitterly. -Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "It is the real Dorian Gray -that is all." -"It is not." -"If it is not, what have I to do with it?" -"You should have gone away when I asked you," he muttered. -"I stayed when you asked me," was Lord Henry's answer. -"Harry, I can't quarrel with my two best friends at once, -but between you both you have made me hate the finest -piece of work I have ever done, and I will destroy it. -What is it but canvas and colour? I will not let it come across -our three lives and mar them." -Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow, and with pallid face and -tearstained eyes, looked at him as he walked over to the deal paintingtable -that was set beneath the high curtained window. What was he doing there? -His fingers were straying about among the litter of tin tubes and dry brushes, -seeking for something. Yes, it was for the long paletteknife, with its thin -blade of lithe steel. He had found it at last. He was going to rip up -the canvas. -With a stifled sob the lad leaped from the couch, and, rushing over -to Hallward, tore the knife out of his hand, and flung it to the end -of the studio. "Don't, Basil, don't" he cried. "It would be murder" -"I am glad you appreciate my work at last, Dorian," said the painter coldly -when he had recovered from his surprise. "I never thought you would." -"Appreciate it? I am in love with it, Basil. It is part of myself. -I feel that." -"Well, as soon as you are dry, you shall be varnished, and framed, -and sent home. Then you can do what you like with yourself." -And he walked across the room and rang the bell for tea. -"You will have tea, of course, Dorian? And so will you, Harry? -Or do you object to such simple pleasures?" -"I adore simple pleasures," said Lord Henry. "They are -the last refuge of the complex. But I don't like scenes, -except on the stage. What absurd fellows you are, both of you -I wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. -It was the most premature definition ever given. Man is many things, -but he is not rational. I am glad he is not, after all -though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture. -You had much better let me have it, Basil. This silly boy doesn't -really want it, and I really do." -"If you let any one have it but me, Basil, I shall never forgive you" -cried Dorian Gray "and I don't allow people to call me a silly boy." -"You know the picture is yours, Dorian. I gave it to you before it existed." -"And you know you have been a little silly, Mr. Gray, and that you -don't really object to being reminded that you are extremely young." -"I should have objected very strongly this morning, Lord Henry." -"Ah this morning You have lived since then." -There came a knock at the door, and the butler entered with a -laden teatray and set it down upon a small Japanese table. -There was a rattle of cups and saucers and the hissing of a fluted -Georgian urn. Two globeshaped china dishes were brought -in by a page. Dorian Gray went over and poured out the tea. -The two men sauntered languidly to the table and examined what was -under the covers. -"Let us go to the theatre tonight," said Lord Henry. -"There is sure to be something on, somewhere. I have promised -to dine at White's, but it is only with an old friend, -so I can send him a wire to say that I am ill, or that I am -prevented from coming in consequence of a subsequent engagement. -I think that would be a rather nice excuse it would have all -the surprise of candour." -"It is such a bore putting on one's dressclothes," muttered Hallward. -"And, when one has them on, they are so horrid." -"Yes," answered Lord Henry dreamily, "the costume of the nineteenth -century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only -real colourelement left in modern life." -"You really must not say things like that before Dorian, Harry." -"Before which Dorian? The one who is pouring out tea for us, -or the one in the picture?" -"Before either." -"I should like to come to the theatre with you, Lord Henry," -said the lad. -"Then you shall come and you will come, too, Basil, won't you?" -"I can't, really. I would sooner not. I have a lot of work to do." -"Well, then, you and I will go alone, Mr. Gray." -"I should like that awfully." -The painter bit his lip and walked over, cup in hand, to the picture. -"I shall stay with the real Dorian," he said, sadly. -"Is it the real Dorian?" cried the original of the portrait, -strolling across to him. "Am I really like that?" -"Yes you are just like that." -"How wonderful, Basil" -"At least you are like it in appearance. But it will never alter," -sighed Hallward. "That is something." -"What a fuss people make about fidelity" exclaimed Lord Henry. -"Why, even in love it is purely a question for physiology. -It has nothing to do with our own will. Young men want to -be faithful, and are not old men want to be faithless, and cannot -that is all one can say." -"Don't go to the theatre tonight, Dorian," said Hallward. -"Stop and dine with me." -"I can't, Basil." -"Why?" -"Because I have promised Lord Henry Wotton to go with him." -"He won't like you the better for keeping your promises. -He always breaks his own. I beg you not to go." -Dorian Gray laughed and shook his head. -"I entreat you." -The lad hesitated, and looked over at Lord Henry, who was watching -them from the teatable with an amused smile. -"I must go, Basil," he answered. -"Very well," said Hallward, and he went over and laid down his -cup on the tray. "It is rather late, and, as you have to dress, -you had better lose no time. Goodbye, Harry. Goodbye, Dorian. -Come and see me soon. Come tomorrow." -"Certainly." -"You won't forget?" -"No, of course not," cried Dorian. -"And ... Harry" -"Yes, Basil?" -"Remember what I asked you, when we were in the garden this morning." -"I have forgotten it." -"I trust you." -"I wish I could trust myself," said Lord Henry, laughing. "Come, Mr. Gray, -my hansom is outside, and I can drop you at your own place. Goodbye, Basil. -It has been a most interesting afternoon." -As the door closed behind them, the painter flung himself down on a sofa, -and a look of pain came into his face. -CHAPTER -At halfpast twelve next day Lord Henry Wotton strolled from Curzon -Street over to the Albany to call on his uncle, Lord Fermor, -a genial if somewhat roughmannered old bachelor, whom the outside -world called selfish because it derived no particular benefit -from him, but who was considered generous by Society as he fed -the people who amused him. His father had been our ambassador -at Madrid when Isabella was young and Prim unthought of, -but had retired from the diplomatic service in a capricious -moment of annoyance on not being offered the Embassy at Paris, -a post to which he considered that he was fully entitled -by reason of his birth, his indolence, the good English -of his dispatches, and his inordinate passion for pleasure. -The son, who had been his father's secretary, had resigned along -with his chief, somewhat foolishly as was thought at the time, -and on succeeding some months later to the title, had set -himself to the serious study of the great aristocratic art -of doing absolutely nothing. He had two large town houses, -but preferred to live in chambers as it was less trouble, -and took most of his meals at his club. He paid some attention -to the management of his collieries in the Midland counties, -excusing himself for this taint of industry on the ground that -the one advantage of having coal was that it enabled a gentleman -to afford the decency of burning wood on his own hearth. -In politics he was a Tory, except when the Tories were in office, -during which period he roundly abused them for being a pack -of Radicals. He was a hero to his valet, who bullied him, -and a terror to most of his relations, whom he bullied in turn. -Only England could have produced him, and he always said -that the country was going to the dogs. His principles -were out of date, but there was a good deal to be said for -his prejudices. -When Lord Henry entered the room, he found his uncle sitting in a rough -shootingcoat, smoking a cheroot and grumbling over The Times. -"Well, Harry," said the old gentleman, "what brings you out so early? -I thought you dandies never got up till two, and were not visible -till five." -"Pure family affection, I assure you, Uncle George. I want to get -something out of you." -"Money, I suppose," said Lord Fermor, making a wry face. -"Well, sit down and tell me all about it. Young people, -nowadays, imagine that money is everything." -"Yes," murmured Lord Henry, settling his buttonhole in his coat -"and when they grow older they know it. But I don't want money. -It is only people who pay their bills who want that, Uncle George, -and I never pay mine. Credit is the capital of a younger son, -and one lives charmingly upon it. Besides, I always deal with -Dartmoor's tradesmen, and consequently they never bother me. -What I want is information not useful information, of course -useless information." -"Well, I can tell you anything that is in an English Blue Book, -Harry, although those fellows nowadays write a lot of nonsense. -When I was in the Diplomatic, things were much better. -But I hear they let them in now by examination. What can -you expect? Examinations, sir, are pure humbug from beginning -to end. If a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, -and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad -for him." -"Mr. Dorian Gray does not belong to Blue Books, Uncle George," -said Lord Henry languidly. -"Mr. Dorian Gray? Who is he?" asked Lord Fermor, knitting his bushy -white eyebrows. -"That is what I have come to learn, Uncle George. Or rather, -I know who he is. He is the last Lord Kelso's grandson. -His mother was a Devereux, Lady Margaret Devereaux. -I want you to tell me about his mother. What was she like? -Whom did she marry? You have known nearly everybody -in your time, so you might have known her. I am very much -interested in Mr. Gray at present. I have only just -met him." -"Kelso's grandson" echoed the old gentleman. "Kelso's grandson ... Of -course.... I knew his mother intimately. I believe I was at her christening. -She was an extraordinarily beautiful girl, Margaret Devereux, and made -all the men frantic by running away with a penniless young fellow -a mere nobody, sir, a subaltern in a foot regiment, or something -of that kind. Certainly. I remember the whole thing as if it -happened yesterday. The poor chap was killed in a duel at Spa a few -months after the marriage. There was an ugly story about it. -They said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, -to insult his soninlaw in publicpaid him, sir, to do it, paid him -and that the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon. -The thing was hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club -for some time afterwards. He brought his daughter back with him, I was told, -and she never spoke to him again. Oh, yes it was a bad business. -The girl died, too, died within a year. So she left a son, did she? -I had forgotten that. What sort of boy is he? If he is like his mother, -he must be a goodlooking chap." -"He is very goodlooking," assented Lord Henry. -"I hope he will fall into proper hands," continued the old man. -"He should have a pot of money waiting for him if Kelso -did the right thing by him. His mother had money, too. -All the Selby property came to her, through her grandfather. -Her grandfather hated Kelso, thought him a mean dog. -He was, too. Came to Madrid once when I was there. Egad, I was -ashamed of him. The Queen used to ask me about the English noble -who was always quarrelling with the cabmen about their fares. -They made quite a story of it. I didn't dare show my face at Court -for a month. I hope he treated his grandson better than he did -the jarvies." -"I don't know," answered Lord Henry. "I fancy that the boy will be well off. -He is not of age yet. He has Selby, I know. He told me so. And . . . his -mother was very beautiful?" -"Margaret Devereux was one of the loveliest creatures I ever saw, Harry. -What on earth induced her to behave as she did, I never could understand. -She could have married anybody she chose. Carlington was mad after her. -She was romantic, though. All the women of that family were. -The men were a poor lot, but, egad the women were wonderful. -Carlington went on his knees to her. Told me so himself. She laughed at him, -and there wasn't a girl in London at the time who wasn't after him. -And by the way, Harry, talking about silly marriages, what is this humbug your -father tells me about Dartmoor wanting to marry an American? Ain't English -girls good enough for him?" -"It is rather fashionable to marry Americans just now, Uncle George." -"I'll back English women against the world, Harry," said Lord Fermor, -striking the table with his fist. -"The betting is on the Americans." -"They don't last, I am told," muttered his uncle. -"A long engagement exhausts them, but they are capital at a steeplechase. -They take things flying. I don't think Dartmoor has a chance." -"Who are her people?" grumbled the old gentleman. "Has she got any?" -Lord Henry shook his head. "American girls are as clever at concealing -their parents, as English women are at concealing their past," he said, -rising to go. -"They are porkpackers, I suppose?" -"I hope so, Uncle George, for Dartmoor's sake. I am told -that porkpacking is the most lucrative profession in America, -after politics." -"Is she pretty?" -"She behaves as if she was beautiful. Most American women do. -It is the secret of their charm." -"Why can't these American women stay in their own country? -They are always telling us that it is the paradise for women." -"It is. That is the reason why, like Eve, they are so excessively -anxious to get out of it," said Lord Henry. "Goodbye, Uncle George. -I shall be late for lunch, if I stop any longer. Thanks for giving me -the information I wanted. I always like to know everything about my -new friends, and nothing about my old ones." -"Where are you lunching, Harry?" -"At Aunt Agatha's. I have asked myself and Mr. Gray. -He is her latest protege." -"Humph tell your Aunt Agatha, Harry, not to bother me any more with -her charity appeals. I am sick of them. Why, the good woman thinks -that I have nothing to do but to write cheques for her silly fads." -"All right, Uncle George, I'll tell her, but it won't have any effect. -Philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity. It is their -distinguishing characteristic." -The old gentleman growled approvingly and rang the bell for his servant. -Lord Henry passed up the low arcade into Burlington Street and turned his -steps in the direction of Berkeley Square. -So that was the story of Dorian Gray's parentage. -Crudely as it had been told to him, it had yet stirred him -by its suggestion of a strange, almost modern romance. -A beautiful woman risking everything for a mad passion. -A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a hideous, -treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then -a child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, -the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and -loveless man. Yes it was an interesting background. -It posed the lad, made him more perfect, as it were. Behind every -exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. -Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might blow. -. . . And how charming he had been at dinner the night before, -as with startled eyes and lips parted in frightened pleasure -he had sat opposite to him at the club, the red candleshades -staining to a richer rose the wakening wonder of his face. -Talking to him was like playing upon an exquisite violin. -He answered to every touch and thrill of the bow. . . . There -was something terribly enthralling in the exercise of influence. -No other activity was like it. To project one's soul into some -gracious form, and let it tarry there for a moment to hear one's -own intellectual views echoed back to one with all the added -music of passion and youth to convey one's temperament into -another as though it were a subtle fluid or a strange perfume -there was a real joy in thatperhaps the most satisfying -joy left to us in an age so limited and vulgar as our own, -an age grossly carnal in its pleasures, and grossly common -in its aims.... He was a marvellous type, too, this lad, -whom by so curious a chance he had met in Basil's studio, -or could be fashioned into a marvellous type, at any rate. -Grace was his, and the white purity of boyhood, and beauty such -as old Greek marbles kept for us. There was nothing that one -could not do with him. He could be made a Titan or a toy. -What a pity it was that such beauty was destined to fade -. . . And Basil? From a psychological point of view, -how interesting he was The new manner in art, the fresh -mode of looking at life, suggested so strangely by the merely -visible presence of one who was unconscious of it all -the silent spirit that dwelt in dim woodland, and walked unseen -in open field, suddenly showing herself, Dryadlike and not afraid, -because in his soul who sought for her there had been wakened -that wonderful vision to which alone are wonderful things revealed -the mere shapes and patterns of things becoming, as it were, -refined, and gaining a kind of symbolical value, as though -they were themselves patterns of some other and more perfect -form whose shadow they made real how strange it all was -He remembered something like it in history. Was it not Plato, -that artist in thought, who had first analyzed it? -Was it not Buonarotti who had carved it in the coloured marbles -of a sonnetsequence? But in our own century it was strange. -. . . Yes he would try to be to Dorian Gray what, without knowing it, -the lad was to the painter who had fashioned the wonderful portrait. -He would seek to dominate himhad already, indeed, -half done so. He would make that wonderful spirit his own. -There was something fascinating in this son of love and -death. -Suddenly he stopped and glanced up at the houses. He found that he had -passed his aunt's some distance, and, smiling to himself, turned back. -When he entered the somewhat sombre hall, the butler told him that they -had gone in to lunch. He gave one of the footmen his hat and stick -and passed into the diningroom. -"Late as usual, Harry," cried his aunt, shaking her head at him. -He invented a facile excuse, and having taken the vacant seat -next to her, looked round to see who was there. Dorian bowed -to him shyly from the end of the table, a flush of pleasure -stealing into his cheek. Opposite was the Duchess of Harley, -a lady of admirable goodnature and good temper, much liked -by every one who knew her, and of those ample architectural -proportions that in women who are not duchesses are described -by contemporary historians as stoutness. Next to her sat, -on her right, Sir Thomas Burdon, a Radical member of Parliament, -who followed his leader in public life and in private life -followed the best cooks, dining with the Tories and thinking -with the Liberals, in accordance with a wise and wellknown rule. -The post on her left was occupied by Mr. Erskine of Treadley, -an old gentleman of considerable charm and culture, who had fallen, -however, into bad habits of silence, having, as he explained -once to Lady Agatha, said everything that he had to say -before he was thirty. His own neighbour was Mrs. Vandeleur, -one of his aunt's oldest friends, a perfect saint amongst women, -but so dreadfully dowdy that she reminded one of a badly -bound hymnbook. Fortunately for him she had on the other -side Lord Faudel, a most intelligent middleaged mediocrity, -as bald as a ministerial statement in the House of Commons, -with whom she was conversing in that intensely earnest manner -which is the one unpardonable error, as he remarked once himself, -that all really good people fall into, and from which none of them -ever quite escape. -"We are talking about poor Dartmoor, Lord Henry," cried the duchess, -nodding pleasantly to him across the table. "Do you think he will really -marry this fascinating young person?" -"I believe she has made up her mind to propose to him, Duchess." -"How dreadful" exclaimed Lady Agatha. "Really, some one should interfere." -"I am told, on excellent authority, that her father keeps an American -drygoods store," said Sir Thomas Burdon, looking supercilious. -"My uncle has already suggested porkpacking Sir Thomas." -"Drygoods What are American drygoods?" asked the duchess, -raising her large hands in wonder and accentuating the verb. -"American novels," answered Lord Henry, helping himself to some quail. -The duchess looked puzzled. -"Don't mind him, my dear," whispered Lady Agatha. "He never means anything -that he says." -"When America was discovered," said the Radical member -and he began to give some wearisome facts. Like all people -who try to exhaust a subject, he exhausted his listeners. -The duchess sighed and exercised her privilege of interruption. -"I wish to goodness it never had been discovered at all" -she exclaimed. "Really, our girls have no chance nowadays. It is -most unfair." -"Perhaps, after all, America never has been discovered," -said Mr. Erskine "I myself would say that it had merely -been detected." -"Oh but I have seen specimens of the inhabitants," answered the -duchess vaguely. "I must confess that most of them are extremely pretty. -And they dress well, too. They get all their dresses in Paris. -I wish I could afford to do the same." -"They say that when good Americans die they go to Paris," -chuckled Sir Thomas, who had a large wardrobe of Humour's -castoff clothes. -"Really And where do bad Americans go to when they die?" -inquired the duchess. -"They go to America," murmured Lord Henry. -Sir Thomas frowned. "I am afraid that your nephew is prejudiced against -that great country," he said to Lady Agatha. "I have travelled all over it -in cars provided by the directors, who, in such matters, are extremely civil. -I assure you that it is an education to visit it." -"But must we really see Chicago in order to be educated?" -asked Mr. Erskine plaintively. "I don't feel up to the journey." -Sir Thomas waved his hand. "Mr. Erskine of Treadley has the world on -his shelves. We practical men like to see things, not to read about -them. The Americans are an extremely interesting people. They are -absolutely reasonable. I think that is their distinguishing -characteristic. Yes, Mr. Erskine, an absolutely reasonable people. I -assure you there is no nonsense about the Americans." -"How dreadful" cried Lord Henry. "I can stand brute force, but brute -reason is quite unbearable. There is something unfair about its use. -It is hitting below the intellect." -"I do not understand you," said Sir Thomas, growing rather red. -"I do, Lord Henry," murmured Mr. Erskine, with a smile. -"Paradoxes are all very well in their way... ." rejoined the baronet. -"Was that a paradox?" asked Mr. Erskine. "I did not think so. -Perhaps it was. Well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth. -To test reality we must see it on the tight rope. When the verities -become acrobats, we can judge them." -"Dear me" said Lady Agatha, "how you men argue I am sure I never can make -out what you are talking about. Oh Harry, I am quite vexed with you. -Why do you try to persuade our nice Mr. Dorian Gray to give up the East End? -I assure you he would be quite invaluable. They would love his playing." -"I want him to play to me," cried Lord Henry, smiling, and he looked -down the table and caught a bright answering glance. -"But they are so unhappy in Whitechapel," continued Lady Agatha. -"I can sympathize with everything except suffering," -said Lord Henry, shrugging his shoulders. "I cannot sympathize -with that. It is too ugly, too horrible, too distressing. -There is something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy -with pain. One should sympathize with the colour, the beauty, -the joy of life. The less said about life's sores, -the better." -"Still, the East End is a very important problem," remarked Sir Thomas -with a grave shake of the head. -"Quite so," answered the young lord. "It is the problem of slavery, -and we try to solve it by amusing the slaves." -The politician looked at him keenly. "What change do you propose, then?" -he asked. -Lord Henry laughed. "I don't desire to change anything in England -except the weather," he answered. "I am quite content with -philosophic contemplation. But, as the nineteenth century has -gone bankrupt through an overexpenditure of sympathy, I would -suggest that we should appeal to science to put us straight. -The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, -and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional." -"But we have such grave responsibilities," ventured Mrs. Vandeleur timidly. -"Terribly grave," echoed Lady Agatha. -Lord Henry looked over at Mr. Erskine. "Humanity takes itself too seriously. -It is the world's original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, -history would have been different." -"You are really very comforting," warbled the duchess. -"I have always felt rather guilty when I came to see your -dear aunt, for I take no interest at all in the East End. -For the future I shall be able to look her in the face without -a blush." -"A blush is very becoming, Duchess," remarked Lord Henry. -"Only when one is young," she answered. "When an old woman -like myself blushes, it is a very bad sign. Ah Lord Henry, -I wish you would tell me how to become young again." -He thought for a moment. "Can you remember any great error -that you committed in your early days, Duchess?" he asked, -looking at her across the table. -"A great many, I fear," she cried. -"Then commit them over again," he said gravely. "To get back one's youth, -one has merely to repeat one's follies." -"A delightful theory" she exclaimed. "I must put it into practice." -"A dangerous theory" came from Sir Thomas's tight lips. -Lady Agatha shook her head, but could not help being amused. -Mr. Erskine listened. -"Yes," he continued, "that is one of the great secrets of life. -Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, -and discover when it is too late that the only things one never -regrets are one's mistakes." -A laugh ran round the table. -He played with the idea and grew wilful tossed it into -the air and transformed it let it escape and recaptured it -made it iridescent with fancy and winged it with paradox. -The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, -and philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad -music of pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her winestained -robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a Bacchante over the hills -of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. -Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. -Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, -till the seething grapejuice rose round her bare limbs in waves -of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat's black, -dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary improvisation. -He felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him, -and the consciousness that amongst his audience there was -one whose temperament he wished to fascinate seemed to give -his wit keenness and to lend colour to his imagination. -He was brilliant, fantastic, irresponsible. He charmed -his listeners out of themselves, and they followed -his pipe, laughing. Dorian Gray never took his gaze -off him, but sat like one under a spell, smiles chasing -each other over his lips and wonder growing grave in his -darkening eyes. -At last, liveried in the costume of the age, reality entered the room in -the shape of a servant to tell the duchess that her carriage was waiting. -She wrung her hands in mock despair. "How annoying" she cried. "I must go. -I have to call for my husband at the club, to take him to some absurd meeting -at Willis's Rooms, where he is going to be in the chair. If I am late he is -sure to be furious, and I couldn't have a scene in this bonnet. It is far -too fragile. A harsh word would ruin it. No, I must go, dear Agatha. -Goodbye, Lord Henry, you are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing. -I am sure I don't know what to say about your views. You must come and dine -with us some night. Tuesday? Are you disengaged Tuesday?" -"For you I would throw over anybody, Duchess," said Lord Henry with a bow. -"Ah that is very nice, and very wrong of you," she cried "so mind you come" -and she swept out of the room, followed by Lady Agatha and the other ladies. -When Lord Henry had sat down again, Mr. Erskine moved round, -and taking a chair close to him, placed his hand upon his arm. -"You talk books away," he said "why don't you write one?" -"I am too fond of reading books to care to write them, Mr. Erskine. -I should like to write a novel certainly, a novel that would be as lovely -as a Persian carpet and as unreal. But there is no literary public -in England for anything except newspapers, primers, and encyclopaedias. -Of all people in the world the English have the least sense of the beauty -of literature." -"I fear you are right," answered Mr. Erskine. "I myself used -to have literary ambitions, but I gave them up long ago. -And now, my dear young friend, if you will allow me to call -you so, may I ask if you really meant all that you said to us -at lunch?" -"I quite forget what I said," smiled Lord Henry. "Was it all very bad?" -"Very bad indeed. In fact I consider you extremely dangerous, -and if anything happens to our good duchess, we shall all look on you -as being primarily responsible. But I should like to talk to you -about life. The generation into which I was born was tedious. -Some day, when you are tired of London, come down to Treadley and expound -to me your philosophy of pleasure over some admirable Burgundy I am -fortunate enough to possess." -"I shall be charmed. A visit to Treadley would be a great privilege. -It has a perfect host, and a perfect library." -"You will complete it," answered the old gentleman with a courteous bow. -"And now I must bid goodbye to your excellent aunt. I am due at -the Athenaeum. It is the hour when we sleep there." -"All of you, Mr. Erskine?" -"Forty of us, in forty armchairs. We are practising for an English Academy -of Letters." -Lord Henry laughed and rose. "I am going to the park," -he cried. -As he was passing out of the door, Dorian Gray touched him on the arm. -"Let me come with you," he murmured. -"But I thought you had promised Basil Hallward to go and see him," -answered Lord Henry. -"I would sooner come with you yes, I feel I must come with you. -Do let me. And you will promise to talk to me all the time? -No one talks so wonderfully as you do." -"Ah I have talked quite enough for today," said Lord Henry, smiling. -"All I want now is to look at life. You may come and look at it with me, -if you care to." -CHAPTER -One afternoon, a month later, Dorian Gray was reclining in a luxurious -armchair, in the little library of Lord Henry's house in Mayfair. -It was, in its way, a very charming room, with its high panelled -wainscoting of olivestained oak, its creamcoloured frieze and ceiling -of raised plasterwork, and its brickdust felt carpet strewn with silk, -longfringed Persian rugs. On a tiny satinwood table stood a statuette -by Clodion, and beside it lay a copy of Les Cent Nouvelles, bound for -Margaret of Valois by Clovis Eve and powdered with the gilt daisies -that Queen had selected for her device. Some large blue china jars -and parrottulips were ranged on the mantelshelf, and through the small -leaded panes of the window streamed the apricotcoloured light of a summer -day in London. -Lord Henry had not yet come in. He was always late on principle, -his principle being that punctuality is the thief of time. -So the lad was looking rather sulky, as with listless fingers -he turned over the pages of an elaborately illustrated edition -of Manon Lescaut that he had found in one of the bookcases. The -formal monotonous ticking of the Louis Quatorze clock annoyed him. -Once or twice he thought of going away. -At last he heard a step outside, and the door opened. -"How late you are, Harry" he murmured. -"I am afraid it is not Harry, Mr. Gray," answered a shrill voice. -He glanced quickly round and rose to his feet. "I beg your pardon. -I thought" -"You thought it was my husband. It is only his wife. -You must let me introduce myself. I know you quite well -by your photographs. I think my husband has got seventeen -of them." -"Not seventeen, Lady Henry?" -"Well, eighteen, then. And I saw you with him the other -night at the opera." She laughed nervously as she spoke, -and watched him with her vague forgetmenot eyes. -She was a curious woman, whose dresses always looked as if -they had been designed in a rage and put on in a tempest. -She was usually in love with somebody, and, as her passion -was never returned, she had kept all her illusions. -She tried to look picturesque, but only succeeded in being untidy. -Her name was Victoria, and she had a perfect mania for going -to church. -"That was at Lohengrin, Lady Henry, I think?" -"Yes it was at dear Lohengrin. I like Wagner's music better than -anybody's. It is so loud that one can talk the whole time without -other people hearing what one says. That is a great advantage, -don't you think so, Mr. Gray?" -The same nervous staccato laugh broke from her thin lips, -and her fingers began to play with a long tortoiseshell -paperknife. -Dorian smiled and shook his head "I am afraid I don't think so, -Lady Henry. I never talk during musicat least, during good music. -If one hears bad music, it is one's duty to drown it in conversation." -"Ah that is one of Harry's views, isn't it, Mr. Gray? -I always hear Harry's views from his friends. It is the only -way I get to know of them. But you must not think I don't -like good music. I adore it, but I am afraid of it. -It makes me too romantic. I have simply worshipped pianists -two at a time, sometimes, Harry tells me. I don't know what it -is about them. Perhaps it is that they are foreigners. -They all are, ain't they? Even those that are born -in England become foreigners after a time, don't they? -It is so clever of them, and such a compliment to art. -Makes it quite cosmopolitan, doesn't it? You have never been -to any of my parties, have you, Mr. Gray? You must come. -I can't afford orchids, but I share no expense in foreigners. -They make one's rooms look so picturesque. But here is Harry -Harry, I came in to look for you, to ask you something -I forget what it wasand I found Mr. Gray here. -We have had such a pleasant chat about music. We have quite -the same ideas. No I think our ideas are quite different. -But he has been most pleasant. I am so glad I've seen -him." -"I am charmed, my love, quite charmed," said Lord Henry, elevating his dark, -crescentshaped eyebrows and looking at them both with an amused smile. -"So sorry I am late, Dorian. I went to look after a piece of old brocade -in Wardour Street and had to bargain for hours for it. Nowadays people know -the price of everything and the value of nothing." -"I am afraid I must be going," exclaimed Lady Henry, -breaking an awkward silence with her silly sudden laugh. -"I have promised to drive with the duchess. Goodbye, Mr. Gray. -Goodbye, Harry. You are dining out, I suppose? So am I. Perhaps I -shall see you at Lady Thornbury's." -"I dare say, my dear," said Lord Henry, shutting the door behind her as, -looking like a bird of paradise that had been out all night in the rain, -she flitted out of the room, leaving a faint odour of frangipanni. -Then he lit a cigarette and flung himself down on the sofa. -"Never marry a woman with strawcoloured hair, Dorian," he said -after a few puffs. -"Why, Harry?" -"Because they are so sentimental." -"But I like sentimental people." -"Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired -women, because they are curious both are disappointed." -"I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am too much in love. -That is one of your aphorisms. I am putting it into practice, -as I do everything that you say." -"Who are you in love with?" asked Lord Henry after a pause. -"With an actress," said Dorian Gray, blushing. -Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "That is a rather commonplace debut." -"You would not say so if you saw her, Harry." -"Who is she?" -"Her name is Sibyl Vane." -"Never heard of her." -"No one has. People will some day, however. She is a genius." -"My dear boy, no woman is a genius. Women are a decorative sex. -They never have anything to say, but they say it charmingly. -Women represent the triumph of matter over mind, just as men -represent the triumph of mind over morals." -"Harry, how can you?" -"My dear Dorian, it is quite true. I am analysing women at present, -so I ought to know. The subject is not so abstruse as I thought it was. -I find that, ultimately, there are only two kinds of women, -the plain and the coloured. The plain women are very useful. -If you want to gain a reputation for respectability, you have merely -to take them down to supper. The other women are very charming. -They commit one mistake, however. They paint in order to try and look young. -Our grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly. -Rouge and esprit used to go together. That is all over now. -As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, -she is perfectly satisfied. As for conversation, there are only five -women in London worth talking to, and two of these can't be admitted into -decent society. However, tell me about your genius. How long have you -known her?" -"Ah Harry, your views terrify me." -"Never mind that. How long have you known her?" -"About three weeks." -"And where did you come across her?" -"I will tell you, Harry, but you mustn't be unsympathetic about it. -After all, it never would have happened if I had not met you. -You filled me with a wild desire to know everything about life. -For days after I met you, something seemed to throb in my veins. -As I lounged in the park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used -to look at every one who passed me and wonder, with a mad curiosity, -what sort of lives they led. Some of them fascinated me. -Others filled me with terror. There was an exquisite poison in the air. -I had a passion for sensations. . . . Well, one evening about seven -o'clock, I determined to go out in search of some adventure. -I felt that this grey monstrous London of ours, with its myriads of people, -its sordid sinners, and its splendid sins, as you once phrased it, -must have something in store for me. I fancied a thousand things. -The mere danger gave me a sense of delight. I remembered what you -had said to me on that wonderful evening when we first dined together, -about the search for beauty being the real secret of life. -I don't know what I expected, but I went out and wandered eastward, -soon losing my way in a labyrinth of grimy streets and black -grassless squares. About halfpast eight I passed by an absurd -little theatre, with great flaring gasjets and gaudy playbills. -A hideous Jew, in the most amazing waistcoat I ever beheld -in my life, was standing at the entrance, smoking a vile cigar. -He had greasy ringlets, and an enormous diamond blazed in the centre -of a soiled shirt. 'Have a box, my Lord?' he said, when he saw me, -and he took off his hat with an air of gorgeous servility. -There was something about him, Harry, that amused me. -He was such a monster. You will laugh at me, I know, but I -really went in and paid a whole guinea for the stagebox. To -the present day I can't make out why I did so and yet if I hadn't -my dear Harry, if I hadn'tI should have missed the greatest -romance of my life. I see you are laughing. It is horrid of -you" -"I am not laughing, Dorian at least I am not laughing at you. -But you should not say the greatest romance of your life. -You should say the first romance of your life. You will -always be loved, and you will always be in love with love. -A grande passion is the privilege of people who have nothing to do. -That is the one use of the idle classes of a country. -Don't be afraid. There are exquisite things in store for you. -This is merely the beginning." -"Do you think my nature so shallow?" cried Dorian Gray angrily. -"No I think your nature so deep." -"How do you mean?" -"My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really -the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, -I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. -Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life -of the intellectsimply a confession of failure. Faithfulness -I must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. -There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid -that others might pick them up. But I don't want to interrupt you. -Go on with your story." -"Well, I found myself seated in a horrid little private box, -with a vulgar dropscene staring me in the face. -I looked out from behind the curtain and surveyed the house. -It was a tawdry affair, all Cupids and cornucopias, like a -thirdrate weddingcake. The gallery and pit were fairly full, -but the two rows of dingy stalls were quite empty, and there was -hardly a person in what I suppose they called the dresscircle. -Women went about with oranges and gingerbeer, and there was a -terrible consumption of nuts going on." -"It must have been just like the palmy days of the British drama." -"Just like, I should fancy, and very depressing. I began to wonder -what on earth I should do when I caught sight of the playbill. -What do you think the play was, Harry?" -"I should think 'The Idiot Boy', or 'Dumb but Innocent'. -Our fathers used to like that sort of piece, I believe. -The longer I live, Dorian, the more keenly I feel that whatever -was good enough for our fathers is not good enough for us. In art, -as in politics, les grandperes ont toujours tort." -"This play was good enough for us, Harry. It was Romeo and Juliet. -I must admit that I was rather annoyed at the idea of seeing Shakespeare -done in such a wretched hole of a place. Still, I felt interested, -in a sort of way. At any rate, I determined to wait for the first act. -There was a dreadful orchestra, presided over by a young -Hebrew who sat at a cracked piano, that nearly drove me away, -but at last the dropscene was drawn up and the play began. -Romeo was a stout elderly gentleman, with corked eyebrows, a husky -tragedy voice, and a figure like a beerbarrel. Mercutio was almost -as bad. He was played by the lowcomedian, who had introduced -gags of his own and was on most friendly terms with the pit. -They were both as grotesque as the scenery, and that looked as if it -had come out of a countrybooth. But Juliet Harry, imagine a girl, -hardly seventeen years of age, with a little, flowerlike face, -a small Greek head with plaited coils of darkbrown hair, eyes that were -violet wells of passion, lips that were like the petals of a rose. -She was the loveliest thing I had ever seen in my life. -You said to me once that pathos left you unmoved, but that beauty, -mere beauty, could fill your eyes with tears. I tell you, Harry, I could -hardly see this girl for the mist of tears that came across me. -And her voiceI never heard such a voice. It was very low at first, -with deep mellow notes that seemed to fall singly upon one's ear. -Then it became a little louder, and sounded like a flute or a -distant hautboy. In the gardenscene it had all the tremulous ecstasy -that one hears just before dawn when nightingales are singing. -There were moments, later on, when it had the wild passion of violins. -You know how a voice can stir one. Your voice and the voice of -Sibyl Vane are two things that I shall never forget. When I close -my eyes, I hear them, and each of them says something different. -I don't know which to follow. Why should I not love her? -Harry, I do love her. She is everything to me in life. -Night after night I go to see her play. One evening she is Rosalind, -and the next evening she is Imogen. I have seen her die in the gloom -of an Italian tomb, sucking the poison from her lover's lips. -I have watched her wandering through the forest of Arden, -disguised as a pretty boy in hose and doublet and dainty cap. -She has been mad, and has come into the presence of a guilty king, -and given him rue to wear and bitter herbs to taste of. -She has been innocent, and the black hands of jealousy have -crushed her reedlike throat. I have seen her in every age and in -every costume. Ordinary women never appeal to one's imagination. -They are limited to their century. No glamour ever transfigures them. -One knows their minds as easily as one knows their bonnets. -One can always find them. There is no mystery in any of them. They ride -in the park in the morning and chatter at teaparties in the afternoon. -They have their stereotyped smile and their fashionable manner. -They are quite obvious. But an actress How different an actress is -Harry why didn't you tell me that the only thing worth loving is an -actress?" -"Because I have loved so many of them, Dorian." -"Oh, yes, horrid people with dyed hair and painted faces." -"Don't run down dyed hair and painted faces. There is an extraordinary -charm in them, sometimes," said Lord Henry. -"I wish now I had not told you about Sibyl Vane." -"You could not have helped telling me, Dorian. All through your life -you will tell me everything you do." -"Yes, Harry, I believe that is true. I cannot help telling you things. -You have a curious influence over me. If I ever did a crime, I would come -and confess it to you. You would understand me." -"People like youthe wilful sunbeams of lifedon't commit crimes, Dorian. -But I am much obliged for the compliment, all the same. And now tell me -reach me the matches, like a good boythankswhat are your actual relations -with Sibyl Vane?" -Dorian Gray leaped to his feet, with flushed cheeks and burning eyes. -"Harry Sibyl Vane is sacred" -"It is only the sacred things that are worth touching, Dorian," -said Lord Henry, with a strange touch of pathos in his voice. -"But why should you be annoyed? I suppose she will belong -to you some day. When one is in love, one always begins by -deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. -That is what the world calls a romance. You know her, at any rate, -I suppose?" -"Of course I know her. On the first night I was at the theatre, -the horrid old Jew came round to the box after the performance was over -and offered to take me behind the scenes and introduce me to her. -I was furious with him, and told him that Juliet had been dead -for hundreds of years and that her body was lying in a marble -tomb in Verona. I think, from his blank look of amazement, -that he was under the impression that I had taken too much champagne, -or something." -"I am not surprised." -"Then he asked me if I wrote for any of the newspapers. -I told him I never even read them. He seemed terribly disappointed -at that, and confided to me that all the dramatic critics -were in a conspiracy against him, and that they were every -one of them to be bought." -"I should not wonder if he was quite right there. But, on the other hand, -judging from their appearance, most of them cannot be at all expensive." -"Well, he seemed to think they were beyond his means," -laughed Dorian. "By this time, however, the lights were being -put out in the theatre, and I had to go. He wanted me to try -some cigars that he strongly recommended. I declined. -The next night, of course, I arrived at the place again. -When he saw me, he made me a low bow and assured me that I -was a munificent patron of art. He was a most offensive brute, -though he had an extraordinary passion for Shakespeare. -He told me once, with an air of pride, that his five bankruptcies -were entirely due to 'The Bard,' as he insisted on calling him. -He seemed to think it a distinction." -"It was a distinction, my dear Doriana great distinction. -Most people become bankrupt through having invested too -heavily in the prose of life. To have ruined one's self over -poetry is an honour. But when did you first speak to Miss -Sibyl Vane?" -"The third night. She had been playing Rosalind. -I could not help going round. I had thrown her some flowers, -and she had looked at meat least I fancied that she had. -The old Jew was persistent. He seemed determined to take me behind, -so I consented. It was curious my not wanting to know her, -wasn't it?" -"No I don't think so." -"My dear Harry, why?" -"I will tell you some other time. Now I want to know about the girl." -"Sibyl? Oh, she was so shy and so gentle. There is something of a -child about her. Her eyes opened wide in exquisite wonder when I -told her what I thought of her performance, and she seemed quite -unconscious of her power. I think we were both rather nervous. -The old Jew stood grinning at the doorway of the dusty greenroom, -making elaborate speeches about us both, while we stood looking at -each other like children. He would insist on calling me 'My Lord,' -so I had to assure Sibyl that I was not anything of the kind. -She said quite simply to me, 'You look more like a prince. -I must call you Prince Charming.'" -"Upon my word, Dorian, Miss Sibyl knows how to pay compliments." -"You don't understand her, Harry. She regarded me merely as a person -in a play. She knows nothing of life. She lives with her mother, -a faded tired woman who played Lady Capulet in a sort of magenta -dressingwrapper on the first night, and looks as if she had seen -better days." -"I know that look. It depresses me," murmured Lord Henry, -examining his rings. -"The Jew wanted to tell me her history, but I said it did not interest me." -"You were quite right. There is always something infinitely mean -about other people's tragedies." -"Sibyl is the only thing I care about. What is it to me -where she came from? From her little head to her little feet, -she is absolutely and entirely divine. Every night of my life I -go to see her act, and every night she is more marvellous." -"That is the reason, I suppose, that you never dine with me now. -I thought you must have some curious romance on hand. You have -but it is not quite what I expected." -"My dear Harry, we either lunch or sup together every day, -and I have been to the opera with you several times," said Dorian, -opening his blue eyes in wonder. -"You always come dreadfully late." -"Well, I can't help going to see Sibyl play," he cried, "even if it is -only for a single act. I get hungry for her presence and when I think -of the wonderful soul that is hidden away in that little ivory body, -I am filled with awe." -"You can dine with me tonight, Dorian, can't you?" -He shook his head. "Tonight she is Imogen," he answered, -"and tomorrow night she will be Juliet." -"When is she Sibyl Vane?" -"Never." -"I congratulate you." -"How horrid you are She is all the great heroines of the world in one. -She is more than an individual. You laugh, but I tell you she -has genius. I love her, and I must make her love me. You, who know -all the secrets of life, tell me how to charm Sibyl Vane to love me -I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world -to hear our laughter and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion -to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. -My God, Harry, how I worship her" He was walking up and down the room -as he spoke. Hectic spots of red burned on his cheeks. He was -terribly excited. -Lord Henry watched him with a subtle sense of pleasure. How different -he was now from the shy frightened boy he had met in Basil Hallward's studio -His nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of scarlet flame. -Out of its secret hidingplace had crept his soul, and desire had come to meet -it on the way. -"And what do you propose to do?" said Lord Henry at last. -"I want you and Basil to come with me some night and see her act. -I have not the slightest fear of the result. You are certain to -acknowledge her genius. Then we must get her out of the Jew's hands. -She is bound to him for three yearsat least for two years and eight months -from the present time. I shall have to pay him something, of course. -When all that is settled, I shall take a West End theatre and bring -her out properly. She will make the world as mad as she has -made me." -"That would be impossible, my dear boy." -"Yes, she will. She has not merely art, consummate artinstinct, -in her, but she has personality also and you have often told me -that it is personalities, not principles, that move the age." -"Well, what night shall we go?" -"Let me see. Today is Tuesday. Let us fix tomorrow. She plays -Juliet tomorrow." -"All right. The Bristol at eight o'clock and I will get Basil." -"Not eight, Harry, please. Halfpast six. We must be there -before the curtain rises. You must see her in the first act, -where she meets Romeo." -"Halfpast six What an hour It will be like having a meattea, or reading -an English novel. It must be seven. No gentleman dines before seven. -Shall you see Basil between this and then? Or shall I write to him?" -"Dear Basil I have not laid eyes on him for a week. -It is rather horrid of me, as he has sent me my portrait in -the most wonderful frame, specially designed by himself, and, -though I am a little jealous of the picture for being a whole -month younger than I am, I must admit that I delight in it. -Perhaps you had better write to him. I don't want to see him alone. -He says things that annoy me. He gives me good advice." -Lord Henry smiled. "People are very fond of giving away what they -need most themselves. It is what I call the depth of generosity." -"Oh, Basil is the best of fellows, but he seems to me to be just a bit -of a Philistine. Since I have known you, Harry, I have discovered that." -"Basil, my dear boy, puts everything that is charming in him -into his work. The consequence is that he has nothing left for -life but his prejudices, his principles, and his common sense. -The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful -are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in what they make, -and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. -A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of -all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. -The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. -The mere fact of having published a book of secondrate sonnets -makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that -he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare -not realize." -"I wonder is that really so, Harry?" said Dorian Gray, -putting some perfume on his handkerchief out of a large, -goldtopped bottle that stood on the table. "It must be, -if you say it. And now I am off. Imogen is waiting for me. -Don't forget about tomorrow. Goodbye." -As he left the room, Lord Henry's heavy eyelids drooped, and he began -to think. Certainly few people had ever interested him so much -as Dorian Gray, and yet the lad's mad adoration of some one else -caused him not the slightest pang of annoyance or jealousy. -He was pleased by it. It made him a more interesting study. -He had been always enthralled by the methods of natural science, -but the ordinary subjectmatter of that science had seemed to him -trivial and of no import. And so he had begun by vivisecting himself, -as he had ended by vivisecting others. Human lifethat appeared -to him the one thing worth investigating. Compared to it there -was nothing else of any value. It was true that as one watched -life in its curious crucible of pain and pleasure, one could -not wear over one's face a mask of glass, nor keep the sulphurous -fumes from troubling the brain and making the imagination turbid -with monstrous fancies and misshapen dreams. There were poisons -so subtle that to know their properties one had to sicken of them. -There were maladies so strange that one had to pass through them -if one sought to understand their nature. And, yet, what a great -reward one received How wonderful the whole world became to one -To note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional -coloured life of the intellectto observe where they met, -and where they separated, at what point they were in unison, -and at what point they were at discordthere was a delight in that -What matter what the cost was? One could never pay too high a price for -any sensation. -He was consciousand the thought brought a gleam of pleasure into -his brown agate eyesthat it was through certain words of his, -musical words said with musical utterance, that Dorian Gray's soul -had turned to this white girl and bowed in worship before her. -To a large extent the lad was his own creation. He had made -him premature. That was something. Ordinary people waited till -life disclosed to them its secrets, but to the few, to the elect, -the mysteries of life were revealed before the veil was drawn away. -Sometimes this was the effect of art, and chiefly of the art of literature, -which dealt immediately with the passions and the intellect. -But now and then a complex personality took the place and assumed -the office of art, was indeed, in its way, a real work of art, -life having its elaborate masterpieces, just as poetry has, or sculpture, -or painting. -Yes, the lad was premature. He was gathering his harvest while it -was yet spring. The pulse and passion of youth were in him, -but he was becoming selfconscious. It was delightful to watch him. -With his beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to -wonder at. It was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. -He was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, -whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir one's sense -of beauty, and whose wounds are like red roses. -Soul and body, body and soulhow mysterious they were There was -animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality. -The senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade. Who could -say where the fleshly impulse ceased, or the psychical impulse began? -How shallow were the arbitrary definitions of ordinary psychologists -And yet how difficult to decide between the claims of the various schools -Was the soul a shadow seated in the house of sin? Or was the body -really in the soul, as Giordano Bruno thought? The separation of spirit -from matter was a mystery, and the union of spirit with matter was a -mystery also. -He began to wonder whether we could ever make psychology so absolute -a science that each little spring of life would be revealed to us. -As it was, we always misunderstood ourselves and rarely understood others. -Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to -their mistakes. Moralists had, as a rule, regarded it as a mode of warning, -had claimed for it a certain ethical efficacy in the formation of character, -had praised it as something that taught us what to follow and showed -us what to avoid. But there was no motive power in experience. -It was as little of an active cause as conscience itself. All that it -really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, -and that the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, -and with joy. -It was clear to him that the experimental method was the only -method by which one could arrive at any scientific analysis -of the passions and certainly Dorian Gray was a subject made -to his hand, and seemed to promise rich and fruitful results. -His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane was a psychological phenomenon -of no small interest. There was no doubt that curiosity had much -to do with it, curiosity and the desire for new experiences, -yet it was not a simple, but rather a very complex passion. -What there was in it of the purely sensuous instinct of boyhood -had been transformed by the workings of the imagination, -changed into something that seemed to the lad himself to be remote -from sense, and was for that very reason all the more dangerous. -It was the passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves -that tyrannized most strongly over us. Our weakest motives -were those of whose nature we were conscious. It often happened -that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were -really experimenting on ourselves. -While Lord Henry sat dreaming on these things, a knock came to the door, -and his valet entered and reminded him it was time to dress for dinner. -He got up and looked out into the street. The sunset had smitten into -scarlet gold the upper windows of the houses opposite. The panes glowed -like plates of heated metal. The sky above was like a faded rose. -He thought of his friend's young fierycoloured life and wondered how it was -all going to end. -When he arrived home, about halfpast twelve o'clock, he saw a telegram -lying on the hall table. He opened it and found it was from Dorian Gray. -It was to tell him that he was engaged to be married to Sibyl Vane. -CHAPTER -"Mother, Mother, I am so happy" whispered the girl, burying her -face in the lap of the faded, tiredlooking woman who, -with back turned to the shrill intrusive light, was sitting -in the one armchair that their dingy sittingroom contained. -"I am so happy" she repeated, "and you must be happy, too" -Mrs. Vane winced and put her thin, bismuthwhitened hands on her -daughter's head. "Happy" she echoed, "I am only happy, Sibyl, when I -see you act. You must not think of anything but your acting. -Mr. Isaacs has been very good to us, and we owe him money." -The girl looked up and pouted. "Money, Mother?" she cried, -"what does money matter? Love is more than money." -"Mr. Isaacs has advanced us fifty pounds to pay off our debts and to get -a proper outfit for James. You must not forget that, Sibyl. Fifty pounds -is a very large sum. Mr. Isaacs has been most considerate." -"He is not a gentleman, Mother, and I hate the way he talks to me," -said the girl, rising to her feet and going over to the window. -"I don't know how we could manage without him," answered the elder -woman querulously. -Sibyl Vane tossed her head and laughed. "We don't want him -any more, Mother. Prince Charming rules life for us now." -Then she paused. A rose shook in her blood and shadowed -her cheeks. Quick breath parted the petals of her lips. -They trembled. Some southern wind of passion swept over her -and stirred the dainty folds of her dress. "I love him," -she said simply. -"Foolish child foolish child" was the parrotphrase flung in answer. -The waving of crooked, falsejewelled fingers gave grotesqueness to -the words. -The girl laughed again. The joy of a caged bird was in her voice. -Her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed -for a moment, as though to hide their secret. When they opened, -the mist of a dream had passed across them. -Thinlipped wisdom spoke at her from the worn chair, -hinted at prudence, quoted from that book of cowardice whose -author apes the name of common sense. She did not listen. -She was free in her prison of passion. Her prince, Prince Charming, -was with her. She had called on memory to remake him. -She had sent her soul to search for him, and it had brought him back. -His kiss burned again upon her mouth. Her eyelids were warm with -his breath. -Then wisdom altered its method and spoke of espial and discovery. -This young man might be rich. If so, marriage should be thought of. -Against the shell of her ear broke the waves of worldly cunning. -The arrows of craft shot by her. She saw the thin lips moving, -and smiled. -Suddenly she felt the need to speak. The wordy silence troubled her. -"Mother, Mother," she cried, "why does he love me so much? I know why I -love him. I love him because he is like what love himself should be. -But what does he see in me? I am not worthy of him. And yetwhy, I -cannot tellthough I feel so much beneath him, I don't feel humble. -I feel proud, terribly proud. Mother, did you love my father as I love -Prince Charming?" -The elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that daubed -her cheeks, and her dry lips twitched with a spasm of pain. -Sybil rushed to her, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her. -"Forgive me, Mother. I know it pains you to talk about our father. -But it only pains you because you loved him so much. Don't look so sad. -I am as happy today as you were twenty years ago. Ah let me be happy -for ever" -"My child, you are far too young to think of falling in love. -Besides, what do you know of this young man? You don't -even know his name. The whole thing is most inconvenient, -and really, when James is going away to Australia, and I have -so much to think of, I must say that you should have shown -more consideration. However, as I said before, if he is rich -"Ah Mother, Mother, let me be happy" -Mrs. Vane glanced at her, and with one of those false -theatrical gestures that so often become a mode of second -nature to a stageplayer, clasped her in her arms. -At this moment, the door opened and a young lad with rough -brown hair came into the room. He was thickset of figure, -and his hands and feet were large and somewhat clumsy in movement. -He was not so finely bred as his sister. One would hardly -have guessed the close relationship that existed between them. -Mrs. Vane fixed her eyes on him and intensified her smile. -She mentally elevated her son to the dignity of an audience. -She felt sure that the tableau was interesting. -"You might keep some of your kisses for me, Sibyl, I think," -said the lad with a goodnatured grumble. -"Ah but you don't like being kissed, Jim," she cried. -"You are a dreadful old bear." And she ran across the room and -hugged him. -James Vane looked into his sister's face with tenderness. -"I want you to come out with me for a walk, Sibyl. -I don't suppose I shall ever see this horrid London again. -I am sure I don't want to." -"My son, don't say such dreadful things," murmured Mrs. Vane, taking up -a tawdry theatrical dress, with a sigh, and beginning to patch it. -She felt a little disappointed that he had not joined the group. -It would have increased the theatrical picturesqueness of the situation. -"Why not, Mother? I mean it." -"You pain me, my son. I trust you will return from Australia in a position -of affluence. I believe there is no society of any kind in the Colonies -nothing that I would call societyso when you have made your fortune, -you must come back and assert yourself in London." -"Society" muttered the lad. "I don't want to know anything about that. -I should like to make some money to take you and Sibyl off the stage. -I hate it." -"Oh, Jim" said Sibyl, laughing, "how unkind of you -But are you really going for a walk with me? That will be nice -I was afraid you were going to say goodbye to some of your friends -to Tom Hardy, who gave you that hideous pipe, or Ned Langton, -who makes fun of you for smoking it. It is very sweet of you -to let me have your last afternoon. Where shall we go? -Let us go to the park." -"I am too shabby," he answered, frowning. "Only swell people go to the park." -"Nonsense, Jim," she whispered, stroking the sleeve of his coat. -He hesitated for a moment. "Very well," he said at last, -"but don't be too long dressing." She danced out of the door. -One could hear her singing as she ran upstairs. Her little feet -pattered overhead. -He walked up and down the room two or three times. Then he turned -to the still figure in the chair. "Mother, are my things ready?" -he asked. -"Quite ready, James," she answered, keeping her eyes on -her work. For some months past she had felt ill at ease -when she was alone with this rough stern son of hers. -Her shallow secret nature was troubled when their eyes met. -She used to wonder if he suspected anything. The silence, -for he made no other observation, became intolerable to her. -She began to complain. Women defend themselves by attacking, -just as they attack by sudden and strange surrenders. -"I hope you will be contented, James, with your seafaring life," -she said. "You must remember that it is your own choice. -You might have entered a solicitor's office. Solicitors are -a very respectable class, and in the country often dine with -the best families." -"I hate offices, and I hate clerks," he replied. "But you are quite right. -I have chosen my own life. All I say is, watch over Sibyl. Don't let her -come to any harm. Mother, you must watch over her." -"James, you really talk very strangely. Of course I watch over Sibyl." -"I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theatre and goes behind -to talk to her. Is that right? What about that?" -"You are speaking about things you don't understand, James. In the profession -we are accustomed to receive a great deal of most gratifying attention. -I myself used to receive many bouquets at one time. That was when acting -was really understood. As for Sibyl, I do not know at present whether -her attachment is serious or not. But there is no doubt that the young -man in question is a perfect gentleman. He is always most polite to me. -Besides, he has the appearance of being rich, and the flowers he sends -are lovely." -"You don't know his name, though," said the lad harshly. -"No," answered his mother with a placid expression in her face. -"He has not yet revealed his real name. I think it is quite romantic -of him. He is probably a member of the aristocracy." -James Vane bit his lip. "Watch over Sibyl, Mother," he cried, -"watch over her." -"My son, you distress me very much. Sibyl is always under my special care. -Of course, if this gentleman is wealthy, there is no reason why she should -not contract an alliance with him. I trust he is one of the aristocracy. -He has all the appearance of it, I must say. It might be a most brilliant -marriage for Sibyl. They would make a charming couple. His good looks are -really quite remarkable everybody notices them." -The lad muttered something to himself and drummed on the windowpane -with his coarse fingers. He had just turned round to say something -when the door opened and Sibyl ran in. -"How serious you both are" she cried. "What is the matter?" -"Nothing," he answered. "I suppose one must be serious sometimes. -Goodbye, Mother I will have my dinner at five o'clock. Everything -is packed, except my shirts, so you need not trouble." -"Goodbye, my son," she answered with a bow of strained stateliness. -She was extremely annoyed at the tone he had adopted with her, -and there was something in his look that had made her feel afraid. -"Kiss me, Mother," said the girl. Her flowerlike lips touched the withered -cheek and warmed its frost. -"My child my child" cried Mrs. Vane, looking up to the ceiling -in search of an imaginary gallery. -"Come, Sibyl," said her brother impatiently. He hated -his mother's affectations. -They went out into the flickering, windblown sunlight and strolled -down the dreary Euston Road. The passersby glanced in wonder -at the sullen heavy youth who, in coarse, illfitting clothes, -was in the company of such a graceful, refinedlooking girl. -He was like a common gardener walking with a rose. -Jim frowned from time to time when he caught the inquisitive -glance of some stranger. He had that dislike of being stared at, -which comes on geniuses late in life and never leaves the commonplace. -Sibyl, however, was quite unconscious of the effect she was producing. -Her love was trembling in laughter on her lips. She was thinking -of Prince Charming, and, that she might think of him all the more, -she did not talk of him, but prattled on about the ship in which -Jim was going to sail, about the gold he was certain to find, -about the wonderful heiress whose life he was to save from the wicked, -redshirted bushrangers. For he was not to remain a sailor, -or a supercargo, or whatever he was going to be. Oh, no A sailor's -existence was dreadful. Fancy being cooped up in a horrid ship, -with the hoarse, humpbacked waves trying to get in, and a black wind -blowing the masts down and tearing the sails into long screaming ribands -He was to leave the vessel at Melbourne, bid a polite goodbye -to the captain, and go off at once to the goldfields. Before -a week was over he was to come across a large nugget of pure gold, -the largest nugget that had ever been discovered, and bring it -down to the coast in a waggon guarded by six mounted policemen. -The bushrangers were to attack them three times, and be defeated -with immense slaughter. Or, no. He was not to go to the goldfields -at all. They were horrid places, where men got intoxicated, -and shot each other in barrooms, and used bad language. He was -to be a nice sheepfarmer, and one evening, as he was riding home, -he was to see the beautiful heiress being carried off by a robber -on a black horse, and give chase, and rescue her. Of course, -she would fall in love with him, and he with her, and they would -get married, and come home, and live in an immense house in London. -Yes, there were delightful things in store for him. But he must -be very good, and not lose his temper, or spend his money foolishly. -She was only a year older than he was, but she knew so much more -of life. He must be sure, also, to write to her by every mail, -and to say his prayers each night before he went to sleep. -God was very good, and would watch over him. She would pray -for him, too, and in a few years he would come back quite rich and -happy. -The lad listened sulkily to her and made no answer. He was heartsick -at leaving home. -Yet it was not this alone that made him gloomy and morose. -Inexperienced though he was, he had still a strong sense -of the danger of Sibyl's position. This young dandy who was -making love to her could mean her no good. He was a gentleman, -and he hated him for that, hated him through some curious -raceinstinct for which he could not account, and which for that -reason was all the more dominant within him. He was conscious -also of the shallowness and vanity of his mother's nature, -and in that saw infinite peril for Sibyl and Sibyl's happiness. -Children begin by loving their parents as they grow older they -judge them sometimes they forgive them. -His mother He had something on his mind to ask of her, -something that he had brooded on for many months of silence. -A chance phrase that he had heard at the theatre, a whispered -sneer that had reached his ears one night as he waited at -the stagedoor, had set loose a train of horrible thoughts. -He remembered it as if it had been the lash of a huntingcrop -across his face. His brows knit together into a wedgelike furrow, -and with a twitch of pain he bit his underlip. -"You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim," cried Sibyl, -"and I am making the most delightful plans for your future. -Do say something." -"What do you want me to say?" -"Oh that you will be a good boy and not forget us," she answered, -smiling at him. -He shrugged his shoulders. "You are more likely to forget me than I am -to forget you, Sibyl." -She flushed. "What do you mean, Jim?" she asked. -"You have a new friend, I hear. Who is he? Why have you not told me -about him? He means you no good." -"Stop, Jim" she exclaimed. "You must not say anything against him. -I love him." -"Why, you don't even know his name," answered the lad. "Who is he? -I have a right to know." -"He is called Prince Charming. Don't you like the name. -Oh you silly boy you should never forget it. If you only saw him, -you would think him the most wonderful person in the world. -Some day you will meet himwhen you come back from Australia. -You will like him so much. Everybody likes him, and I ... -love him. I wish you could come to the theatre tonight. He -is going to be there, and I am to play Juliet. Oh how I -shall play it Fancy, Jim, to be in love and play Juliet -To have him sitting there To play for his delight -I am afraid I may frighten the company, frighten or enthrall them. -To be in love is to surpass one's self. Poor dreadful -Mr. Isaacs will be shouting 'genius' to his loafers at the bar. -He has preached me as a dogma tonight he will announce me -as a revelation. I feel it. And it is all his, his only, -Prince Charming, my wonderful lover, my god of graces. -But I am poor beside him. Poor? What does that matter? -When poverty creeps in at the door, love flies in through the window. -Our proverbs want rewriting. They were made in winter, and it is -summer now springtime for me, I think, a very dance of blossoms -in blue skies." -"He is a gentleman," said the lad sullenly. -"A prince" she cried musically. "What more do you want?" -"He wants to enslave you." -"I shudder at the thought of being free." -"I want you to beware of him." -"To see him is to worship him to know him is to trust him." -"Sibyl, you are mad about him." -She laughed and took his arm. "You dear old Jim, you talk as -if you were a hundred. Some day you will be in love yourself. -Then you will know what it is. Don't look so sulky. -Surely you should be glad to think that, though you are -going away, you leave me happier than I have ever been before. -Life has been hard for us both, terribly hard and difficult. -But it will be different now. You are going to a new world, -and I have found one. Here are two chairs let us sit down and see -the smart people go by." -They took their seats amidst a crowd of watchers. The tulipbeds -across the road flamed like throbbing rings of fire. A white dust -tremulous cloud of orrisroot it seemedhung in the panting air. -The brightly coloured parasols danced and dipped like monstrous butterflies. -She made her brother talk of himself, his hopes, his prospects. -He spoke slowly and with effort. They passed words to each other -as players at a game pass counters. Sibyl felt oppressed. She could -not communicate her joy. A faint smile curving that sullen mouth -was all the echo she could win. After some time she became silent. -Suddenly she caught a glimpse of golden hair and laughing lips, -and in an open carriage with two ladies Dorian Gray drove past. -She started to her feet. "There he is" she cried. -"Who?" said Jim Vane. -"Prince Charming," she answered, looking after the victoria. -He jumped up and seized her roughly by the arm. "Show him to me. -Which is he? Point him out. I must see him" he exclaimed -but at that moment the Duke of Berwick's fourinhand came between, -and when it had left the space clear, the carriage had swept out of -the park. -"He is gone," murmured Sibyl sadly. "I wish you had seen him." -"I wish I had, for as sure as there is a God in heaven, -if he ever does you any wrong, I shall kill him." -She looked at him in horror. He repeated his words. -They cut the air like a dagger. The people round began to gape. -A lady standing close to her tittered. -"Come away, Jim come away," she whispered. He followed her doggedly -as she passed through the crowd. He felt glad at what he had said. -When they reached the Achilles Statue, she turned round. -There was pity in her eyes that became laughter on her lips. -She shook her head at him. "You are foolish, Jim, utterly foolish -a badtempered boy, that is all. How can you say such -horrible things? You don't know what you are talking about. -You are simply jealous and unkind. Ah I wish you would -fall in love. Love makes people good, and what you said -was wicked." -"I am sixteen," he answered, "and I know what I am about. -Mother is no help to you. She doesn't understand how to look -after you. I wish now that I was not going to Australia at all. -I have a great mind to chuck the whole thing up. I would, if my -articles hadn't been signed." -"Oh, don't be so serious, Jim. You are like one of the heroes -of those silly melodramas Mother used to be so fond of acting in. -I am not going to quarrel with you. I have seen him, and oh to see -him is perfect happiness. We won't quarrel. I know you would never -harm any one I love, would you?" -"Not as long as you love him, I suppose," was the sullen answer. -"I shall love him for ever" she cried. -"And he?" -"For ever, too" -"He had better." -She shrank from him. Then she laughed and put her hand on his arm. -He was merely a boy. -At the Marble Arch they hailed an omnibus, which left them close -to their shabby home in the Euston Road. It was after five o'clock, -and Sibyl had to lie down for a couple of hours before acting. -Jim insisted that she should do so. He said that he would sooner -part with her when their mother was not present. She would be sure -to make a scene, and he detested scenes of every kind. -In Sybil's own room they parted. There was jealousy in the lad's heart, -and a fierce murderous hatred of the stranger who, as it seemed to him, -had come between them. Yet, when her arms were flung round his neck, -and her fingers strayed through his hair, he softened and kissed her with -real affection. There were tears in his eyes as he went downstairs. -His mother was waiting for him below. She grumbled at his unpunctuality, -as he entered. He made no answer, but sat down to his meagre meal. -The flies buzzed round the table and crawled over the stained cloth. -Through the rumble of omnibuses, and the clatter of streetcabs, -he could hear the droning voice devouring each minute that was left -to him. -After some time, he thrust away his plate and put his head in his hands. -He felt that he had a right to know. It should have been told to him before, -if it was as he suspected. Leaden with fear, his mother watched him. -Words dropped mechanically from her lips. A tattered lace handkerchief -twitched in her fingers. When the clock struck six, he got up and went -to the door. Then he turned back and looked at her. Their eyes met. -In hers he saw a wild appeal for mercy. It enraged him. -"Mother, I have something to ask you," he said. Her eyes wandered -vaguely about the room. She made no answer. "Tell me the truth. -I have a right to know. Were you married to my father?" -She heaved a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief. The terrible moment, -the moment that night and day, for weeks and months, she had dreaded, -had come at last, and yet she felt no terror. Indeed, in some measure it -was a disappointment to her. The vulgar directness of the question called -for a direct answer. The situation had not been gradually led up to. -It was crude. It reminded her of a bad rehearsal. -"No," she answered, wondering at the harsh simplicity of life. -"My father was a scoundrel then" cried the lad, clenching his fists. -She shook her head. "I knew he was not free. We loved each other -very much. If he had lived, he would have made provision for us. -Don't speak against him, my son. He was your father, and a gentleman. -Indeed, he was highly connected." -An oath broke from his lips. "I don't care for myself," -he exclaimed, "but don't let Sibyl. . . . It is a gentleman, -isn't it, who is in love with her, or says he is? -Highly connected, too, I suppose." -For a moment a hideous sense of humiliation came over the woman. -Her head drooped. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. -"Sibyl has a mother," she murmured "I had none." -The lad was touched. He went towards her, and stooping down, -he kissed her. "I am sorry if I have pained you by asking about -my father," he said, "but I could not help it. I must go now. -Goodbye. Don't forget that you will have only one child now -to look after, and believe me that if this man wrongs my sister, -I will find out who he is, track him down, and kill him like a dog. -I swear it." -The exaggerated folly of the threat, the passionate gesture -that accompanied it, the mad melodramatic words, made life seem -more vivid to her. She was familiar with the atmosphere. -She breathed more freely, and for the first time for many months -she really admired her son. She would have liked to have continued -the scene on the same emotional scale, but he cut her short. -Trunks had to be carried down and mufflers looked for. -The lodginghouse drudge bustled in and out. There was the bargaining -with the cabman. The moment was lost in vulgar details. -It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that she waved the -tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son drove away. -She was conscious that a great opportunity had been wasted. -She consoled herself by telling Sibyl how desolate she felt her -life would be, now that she had only one child to look after. -She remembered the phrase. It had pleased her. Of the threat -she said nothing. It was vividly and dramatically expressed. -She felt that they would all laugh at it some day. -CHAPTER -"I suppose you have heard the news, Basil?" said Lord Henry -that evening as Hallward was shown into a little private room -at the Bristol where dinner had been laid for three. -"No, Harry," answered the artist, giving his hat and coat to -the bowing waiter. "What is it? Nothing about politics, I hope -They don't interest me. There is hardly a single person in the House -of Commons worth painting, though many of them would be the better -for a little whitewashing." -"Dorian Gray is engaged to be married," said Lord Henry, -watching him as he spoke. -Hallward started and then frowned. "Dorian engaged to be married" -he cried. "Impossible" -"It is perfectly true." -"To whom?" -"To some little actress or other." -"I can't believe it. Dorian is far too sensible." -"Dorian is far too wise not to do foolish things now and then, -my dear Basil." -"Marriage is hardly a thing that one can do now and then, Harry." -"Except in America," rejoined Lord Henry languidly. "But I -didn't say he was married. I said he was engaged to be married. -There is a great difference. I have a distinct remembrance of -being married, but I have no recollection at all of being engaged. -I am inclined to think that I never was engaged." -"But think of Dorian's birth, and position, and wealth. -It would be absurd for him to marry so much beneath him." -"If you want to make him marry this girl, tell him that, Basil. He is -sure to do it, then. Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, -it is always from the noblest motives." -"I hope the girl is good, Harry. I don't want to see Dorian tied to some -vile creature, who might degrade his nature and ruin his intellect." -"Oh, she is better than goodshe is beautiful," murmured Lord Henry, -sipping a glass of vermouth and orangebitters. "Dorian says she -is beautiful, and he is not often wrong about things of that kind. -Your portrait of him has quickened his appreciation of the personal -appearance of other people. It has had that excellent effect, -amongst others. We are to see her tonight, if that boy doesn't forget -his appointment." -"Are you serious?" -"Quite serious, Basil. I should be miserable if I thought I -should ever be more serious than I am at the present moment." -"But do you approve of it, Harry?" asked the painter, -walking up and down the room and biting his lip. "You can't -approve of it, possibly. It is some silly infatuation." -"I never approve, or disapprove, of anything now. It is an absurd -attitude to take towards life. We are not sent into the world -to air our moral prejudices. I never take any notice of what common -people say, and I never interfere with what charming people do. -If a personality fascinates me, whatever mode of expression that -personality selects is absolutely delightful to me. Dorian Gray -falls in love with a beautiful girl who acts Juliet, and proposes -to marry her. Why not? If he wedded Messalina, he would be none -the less interesting. You know I am not a champion of marriage. -The real drawback to marriage is that it makes one unselfish. -And unselfish people are colourless. They lack individuality. -Still, there are certain temperaments that marriage makes more complex. -They retain their egotism, and add to it many other egos. -They are forced to have more than one life. They become more -highly organized, and to be highly organized is, I should fancy, -the object of man's existence. Besides, every experience -is of value, and whatever one may say against marriage, -it is certainly an experience. I hope that Dorian Gray will -make this girl his wife, passionately adore her for six months, -and then suddenly become fascinated by some one else. He would be a -wonderful study." -"You don't mean a single word of all that, Harry you know you don't. If -Dorian Gray's life were spoiled, no one would be sorrier than yourself. -You are much better than you pretend to be." -Lord Henry laughed. "The reason we all like to think -so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. -The basis of optimism is sheer terror. We think that we are -generous because we credit our neighbour with the possession -of those virtues that are likely to be a benefit to us. -We praise the banker that we may overdraw our account, -and find good qualities in the highwayman in the hope that -he may spare our pockets. I mean everything that I have said. -I have the greatest contempt for optimism. As for a spoiled life, -no life is spoiled but one whose growth is arrested. -If you want to mar a nature, you have merely to reform it. -As for marriage, of course that would be silly, but there are other -and more interesting bonds between men and women. I will certainly -encourage them. They have the charm of being fashionable. -But here is Dorian himself. He will tell you more than -I can." -"My dear Harry, my dear Basil, you must both congratulate me" -said the lad, throwing off his evening cape with its satinlined -wings and shaking each of his friends by the hand in turn. -"I have never been so happy. Of course, it is sudden -all really delightful things are. And yet it seems to me -to be the one thing I have been looking for all my life." -He was flushed with excitement and pleasure, and looked -extraordinarily handsome. -"I hope you will always be very happy, Dorian," said Hallward, "but I -don't quite forgive you for not having let me know of your engagement. -You let Harry know." -"And I don't forgive you for being late for dinner," broke in Lord Henry, -putting his hand on the lad's shoulder and smiling as he spoke. -"Come, let us sit down and try what the new chef here is like, and then you -will tell us how it all came about." -"There is really not much to tell," cried Dorian as they took their -seats at the small round table. "What happened was simply this. -After I left you yesterday evening, Harry, I dressed, had some -dinner at that little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street you -introduced me to, and went down at eight o'clock to the theatre. -Sibyl was playing Rosalind. Of course, the scenery was dreadful -and the Orlando absurd. But Sibyl You should have seen her -When she came on in her boy's clothes, she was perfectly wonderful. -She wore a mosscoloured velvet jerkin with cinnamon sleeves, -slim, brown, crossgartered hose, a dainty little green cap with a hawk's -feather caught in a jewel, and a hooded cloak lined with dull red. -She had never seemed to me more exquisite. She had all the delicate -grace of that Tanagra figurine that you have in your studio, Basil. -Her hair clustered round her face like dark leaves round a pale rose. -As for her actingwell, you shall see her tonight. She is simply -a born artist. I sat in the dingy box absolutely enthralled. -I forgot that I was in London and in the nineteenth century. -I was away with my love in a forest that no man had ever seen. -After the performance was over, I went behind and spoke to her. -As we were sitting together, suddenly there came into her eyes a look -that I had never seen there before. My lips moved towards hers. -We kissed each other. I can't describe to you what I felt at that moment. -It seemed to me that all my life had been narrowed to one perfect -point of rosecoloured joy. She trembled all over and shook -like a white narcissus. Then she flung herself on her knees -and kissed my hands. I feel that I should not tell you all this, -but I can't help it. Of course, our engagement is a dead secret. -She has not even told her own mother. I don't know what my guardians -will say. Lord Radley is sure to be furious. I don't care. -I shall be of age in less than a year, and then I can do what I like. -I have been right, Basil, haven't I, to take my love out of poetry -and to find my wife in Shakespeare's plays? Lips that Shakespeare -taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. -I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the -mouth." -"Yes, Dorian, I suppose you were right," said Hallward slowly. -"Have you seen her today?" asked Lord Henry. -Dorian Gray shook his head. "I left her in the forest of Arden -I shall find her in an orchard in Verona." -Lord Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner. -"At what particular point did you mention the word marriage, Dorian? -And what did she say in answer? Perhaps you forgot all about it." -"My dear Harry, I did not treat it as a business transaction, -and I did not make any formal proposal. I told her that I -loved her, and she said she was not worthy to be my wife. -Not worthy Why, the whole world is nothing to me compared -with her." -"Women are wonderfully practical," murmured Lord Henry, -"much more practical than we are. In situations of that kind -we often forget to say anything about marriage, and they always -remind us." -Hallward laid his hand upon his arm. "Don't, Harry. -You have annoyed Dorian. He is not like other men. -He would never bring misery upon any one. His nature is too fine -for that." -Lord Henry looked across the table. "Dorian is never annoyed with me," -he answered. "I asked the question for the best reason possible, -for the only reason, indeed, that excuses one for asking any question -simple curiosity. I have a theory that it is always the women who -propose to us, and not we who propose to the women. Except, of course, -in middleclass life. But then the middle classes are not modern." -Dorian Gray laughed, and tossed his head. "You are quite -incorrigible, Harry but I don't mind. It is impossible to be angry -with you. When you see Sibyl Vane, you will feel that the man -who could wrong her would be a beast, a beast without a heart. -I cannot understand how any one can wish to shame the thing -he loves. I love Sibyl Vane. I want to place her on a pedestal -of gold and to see the world worship the woman who is mine. -What is marriage? An irrevocable vow. You mock at it for that. -Ah don't mock. It is an irrevocable vow that I want to take. -Her trust makes me faithful, her belief makes me good. -When I am with her, I regret all that you have taught me. -I become different from what you have known me to be. -I am changed, and the mere touch of Sibyl Vane's hand makes -me forget you and all your wrong, fascinating, poisonous, -delightful theories." -"And those are ... ?" asked Lord Henry, helping himself to some salad. -"Oh, your theories about life, your theories about love, -your theories about pleasure. All your theories, in fact, Harry." -"Pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about," -he answered in his slow melodious voice. "But I am afraid -I cannot claim my theory as my own. It belongs to Nature, -not to me. Pleasure is Nature's test, her sign of approval. -When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, -we are not always happy." -"Ah but what do you mean by good?" cried Basil Hallward. -"Yes," echoed Dorian, leaning back in his chair and looking at Lord -Henry over the heavy clusters of purplelipped irises that stood -in the centre of the table, "what do you mean by good, Harry?" -"To be good is to be in harmony with one's self," he replied, -touching the thin stem of his glass with his pale, finepointed fingers. -"Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others. -One's own lifethat is the important thing. As for the lives -of one's neighbours, if one wishes to be a prig or a Puritan, -one can flaunt one's moral views about them, but they are not -one's concern. Besides, individualism has really the higher aim. -Modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one's age. -I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is -a form of the grossest immorality." -"But, surely, if one lives merely for one's self, Harry, one pays -a terrible price for doing so?" suggested the painter. -"Yes, we are overcharged for everything nowadays. I should -fancy that the real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford -nothing but selfdenial. Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, -are the privilege of the rich." -"One has to pay in other ways but money." -"What sort of ways, Basil?" -"Oh I should fancy in remorse, in suffering, in . . . well, -in the consciousness of degradation." -Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "My dear fellow, mediaeval art -is charming, but mediaeval emotions are out of date. One can use -them in fiction, of course. But then the only things that one can -use in fiction are the things that one has ceased to use in fact. -Believe me, no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized -man ever knows what a pleasure is." -"I know what pleasure is," cried Dorian Gray. "It is to adore some one." -"That is certainly better than being adored," he answered, -toying with some fruits. "Being adored is a nuisance. -Women treat us just as humanity treats its gods. -They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something -for them." -"I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us," -murmured the lad gravely. "They create love in our natures. They have a -right to demand it back." -"That is quite true, Dorian," cried Hallward. -"Nothing is ever quite true," said Lord Henry. -"This is," interrupted Dorian. "You must admit, Harry, that women -give to men the very gold of their lives." -"Possibly," he sighed, "but they invariably want it back in such -very small change. That is the worry. Women, as some witty -Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces -and always prevent us from carrying them out." -"Harry, you are dreadful I don't know why I like you so much." -"You will always like me, Dorian," he replied. "Will you have some coffee, -you fellows? Waiter, bring coffee, and finechampagne, and some cigarettes. -No, don't mind the cigarettesI have some. Basil, I can't allow you to -smoke cigars. You must have a cigarette. A cigarette is the perfect type -of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. -What more can one want? Yes, Dorian, you will always be fond of me. -I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit." -"What nonsense you talk, Harry" cried the lad, taking a light from -a firebreathing silver dragon that the waiter had placed on the table. -"Let us go down to the theatre. When Sibyl comes on the stage you will -have a new ideal of life. She will represent something to you that you -have never known." -"I have known everything," said Lord Henry, with a tired -look in his eyes, "but I am always ready for a new emotion. -I am afraid, however, that, for me at any rate, there is -no such thing. Still, your wonderful girl may thrill me. -I love acting. It is so much more real than life. Let us go. -Dorian, you will come with me. I am so sorry, Basil, but there -is only room for two in the brougham. You must follow us in -a hansom." -They got up and put on their coats, sipping their coffee standing. -The painter was silent and preoccupied. There was a gloom over him. -He could not bear this marriage, and yet it seemed to him -to be better than many other things that might have happened. -After a few minutes, they all passed downstairs. He drove off by himself, -as had been arranged, and watched the flashing lights of the little -brougham in front of him. A strange sense of loss came over him. -He felt that Dorian Gray would never again be to him all that he had -been in the past. Life had come between them.... His eyes darkened, -and the crowded flaring streets became blurred to his eyes. -When the cab drew up at the theatre, it seemed to him that he had grown -years older. -CHAPTER -For some reason or other, the house was crowded that night, -and the fat Jew manager who met them at the door was -beaming from ear to ear with an oily tremulous smile. -He escorted them to their box with a sort of pompous humility, -waving his fat jewelled hands and talking at the top of his voice. -Dorian Gray loathed him more than ever. He felt as if he had -come to look for Miranda and had been met by Caliban. -Lord Henry, upon the other hand, rather liked him. -At least he declared he did, and insisted on shaking him -by the hand and assuring him that he was proud to meet a man -who had discovered a real genius and gone bankrupt over a poet. -Hallward amused himself with watching the faces in the pit. -The heat was terribly oppressive, and the huge sunlight -flamed like a monstrous dahlia with petals of yellow fire. -The youths in the gallery had taken off their coats -and waistcoats and hung them over the side. They talked -to each other across the theatre and shared their oranges -with the tawdry girls who sat beside them. Some women -were laughing in the pit. Their voices were horribly shrill -and discordant. The sound of the popping of corks came from -the bar. -"What a place to find one's divinity in" said Lord Henry. -"Yes" answered Dorian Gray. "It was here I found her, and she is divine -beyond all living things. When she acts, you will forget everything. -These common rough people, with their coarse faces and brutal gestures, -become quite different when she is on the stage. They sit silently -and watch her. They weep and laugh as she wills them to do. -She makes them as responsive as a violin. She spiritualizes them, -and one feels that they are of the same flesh and blood as one's self." -"The same flesh and blood as one's self Oh, I hope not" -exclaimed Lord Henry, who was scanning the occupants of the gallery -through his operaglass. -"Don't pay any attention to him, Dorian," said the painter. -"I understand what you mean, and I believe in this girl. -Any one you love must be marvellous, and any girl -who has the effect you describe must be fine and noble. -To spiritualize one's agethat is something worth doing. -If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one, -if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives -have been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their -selfishness and lend them tears for sorrows that are not -their own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of -the adoration of the world. This marriage is quite right. -I did not think so at first, but I admit it now. -The gods made Sibyl Vane for you. Without her you would have -been incomplete." -"Thanks, Basil," answered Dorian Gray, pressing his hand. -"I knew that you would understand me. Harry is so cynical, -he terrifies me. But here is the orchestra. It is -quite dreadful, but it only lasts for about five minutes. -Then the curtain rises, and you will see the girl to whom I -am going to give all my life, to whom I have given everything -that is good in me." -A quarter of an hour afterwards, amidst an extraordinary turmoil of applause, -Sibyl Vane stepped on to the stage. Yes, she was certainly lovely to look at -one of the loveliest creatures, Lord Henry thought, that he had ever seen. -There was something of the fawn in her shy grace and startled eyes. -A faint blush, like the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, came to her -cheeks as she glanced at the crowded enthusiastic house. She stepped back -a few paces and her lips seemed to tremble. Basil Hallward leaped to his feet -and began to applaud. Motionless, and as one in a dream, sat Dorian Gray, -gazing at her. Lord Henry peered through his glasses, murmuring, -"Charming charming" -The scene was the hall of Capulet's house, and Romeo in his pilgrim's -dress had entered with Mercutio and his other friends. The band, -such as it was, struck up a few bars of music, and the dance began. -Through the crowd of ungainly, shabbily dressed actors, Sibyl Vane -moved like a creature from a finer world. Her body swayed, -while she danced, as a plant sways in the water. The curves of her -throat were the curves of a white lily. Her hands seemed to be made -of cool ivory. -Yet she was curiously listless. She showed no sign of joy -when her eyes rested on Romeo. The few words she had to speak -Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, -Which mannerly devotion shows in this -For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, -And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss -with the brief dialogue that follows, were spoken in a -thoroughly artificial manner. The voice was exquisite, -but from the point of view of tone it was absolutely false. -It was wrong in colour. It took away all the life from the verse. -It made the passion unreal. -Dorian Gray grew pale as he watched her. He was puzzled and anxious. -Neither of his friends dared to say anything to him. She seemed to them -to be absolutely incompetent. They were horribly disappointed. -Yet they felt that the true test of any Juliet is the balcony scene -of the second act. They waited for that. If she failed there, -there was nothing in her. -She looked charming as she came out in the moonlight. -That could not be denied. But the staginess of her acting -was unbearable, and grew worse as she went on. Her gestures -became absurdly artificial. She overemphasized everything -that she had to say. The beautiful passage -Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, -Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek -For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight -was declaimed with the painful precision of a schoolgirl who has been -taught to recite by some secondrate professor of elocution. When she -leaned over the balcony and came to those wonderful lines -Although I joy in thee, -I have no joy of this contract tonight -It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden -Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be -Ere one can say, "It lightens." Sweet, goodnight -This bud of love by summer's ripening breath -May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet -she spoke the words as though they conveyed no meaning to her. It was -not nervousness. Indeed, so far from being nervous, she was absolutely -selfcontained. It was simply bad art. She was a complete failure. -Even the common uneducated audience of the pit and gallery lost their -interest in the play. They got restless, and began to talk loudly and to -whistle. The Jew manager, who was standing at the back of the -dresscircle, stamped and swore with rage. The only person unmoved was -the girl herself. -When the second act was over, there came a storm of hisses, -and Lord Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat. -"She is quite beautiful, Dorian," he said, "but she can't act. -Let us go." -"I am going to see the play through," answered the lad, -in a hard bitter voice. "I am awfully sorry that I have made -you waste an evening, Harry. I apologize to you both." -"My dear Dorian, I should think Miss Vane was ill," interrupted Hallward. -"We will come some other night." -"I wish she were ill," he rejoined. "But she seems to me -to be simply callous and cold. She has entirely altered. -Last night she was a great artist. This evening she is merely a -commonplace mediocre actress." -"Don't talk like that about any one you love, Dorian. Love is a more -wonderful thing than art." -"They are both simply forms of imitation," remarked Lord Henry. -"But do let us go. Dorian, you must not stay here any longer. -It is not good for one's morals to see bad acting. -Besides, I don't suppose you will want your wife to act, -so what does it matter if she plays Juliet like a wooden doll? -She is very lovely, and if she knows as little about life -as she does about acting, she will be a delightful experience. -There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating -people who know absolutely everything, and people who know -absolutely nothing. Good heavens, my dear boy, don't look so tragic -The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion -that is unbecoming. Come to the club with Basil and myself. -We will smoke cigarettes and drink to the beauty of Sibyl Vane. -She is beautiful. What more can you want?" -"Go away, Harry," cried the lad. "I want to be alone. Basil, you must go. -Ah can't you see that my heart is breaking?" The hot tears came -to his eyes. His lips trembled, and rushing to the back of the box, -he leaned up against the wall, hiding his face in his hands. -"Let us go, Basil," said Lord Henry with a strange tenderness in his voice, -and the two young men passed out together. -A few moments afterwards the footlights flared up and the curtain rose -on the third act. Dorian Gray went back to his seat. He looked pale, -and proud, and indifferent. The play dragged on, and seemed interminable. -Half of the audience went out, tramping in heavy boots and laughing. -The whole thing was a fiasco. The last act was played to almost -empty benches. The curtain went down on a titter and some groans. -As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into -the greenroom. The girl was standing there alone, with a look -of triumph on her face. Her eyes were lit with an exquisite fire. -There was a radiance about her. Her parted lips were smiling over -some secret of their own. -When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy -came over her. "How badly I acted tonight, Dorian" she cried. -"Horribly" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly -It was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what it was. -You have no idea what I suffered." -The girl smiled. "Dorian," she answered, lingering over -his name with longdrawn music in her voice, as though it -were sweeter than honey to the red petals of her mouth. -"Dorian, you should have understood. But you understand now, -don't you?" -"Understand what?" he asked, angrily. -"Why I was so bad tonight. Why I shall always be bad. -Why I shall never act well again." -He shrugged his shoulders. "You are ill, I suppose. -When you are ill you shouldn't act. You make yourself ridiculous. -My friends were bored. I was bored." -She seemed not to listen to him. She was transfigured with joy. -An ecstasy of happiness dominated her. -"Dorian, Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one -reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. I thought -that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night and Portia the other. -The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia were mine also. -I believed in everything. The common people who acted with me seemed -to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. I knew nothing -but shadows, and I thought them real. You cameoh, my beautiful love -and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what reality really is. -Tonight, for the first time in my life, I saw through the hollowness, -the sham, the silliness of the empty pageant in which I had always played. -Tonight, for the first time, I became conscious that the Romeo was hideous, -and old, and painted, that the moonlight in the orchard was false, -that the scenery was vulgar, and that the words I had to speak were unreal, -were not my words, were not what I wanted to say. You had brought me -something higher, something of which all art is but a reflection. -You had made me understand what love really is. My love My love -Prince Charming Prince of life I have grown sick of shadows. -You are more to me than all art can ever be. What have I to do with -the puppets of a play? When I came on tonight, I could not understand -how it was that everything had gone from me. I thought that I was going -to be wonderful. I found that I could do nothing. Suddenly it dawned -on my soul what it all meant. The knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard -them hissing, and I smiled. What could they know of love such as ours? -Take me away, Doriantake me away with you, where we can be quite alone. -I hate the stage. I might mimic a passion that I do not feel, -but I cannot mimic one that burns me like fire. Oh, Dorian, Dorian, -you understand now what it signifies? Even if I could do it, it would -be profanation for me to play at being in love. You have made me see -that." -He flung himself down on the sofa and turned away his face. -"You have killed my love," he muttered. -She looked at him in wonder and laughed. He made no answer. -She came across to him, and with her little fingers stroked -his hair. She knelt down and pressed his hands to her lips. -He drew them away, and a shudder ran through him. -Then he leaped up and went to the door. "Yes," he cried, -"you have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. -Now you don't even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. -I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius -and intellect, because you realized the dreams of great -poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. -You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid. -My God how mad I was to love you What a fool I have been -You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. -I will never think of you. I will never mention your name. -You don't know what you were to me, once. Why, once . . . Oh, -I can't bear to think of it I wish I had never laid -eyes upon you You have spoiled the romance of my life. -How little you can know of love, if you say it mars your art -Without your art, you are nothing. I would have made -you famous, splendid, magnificent. The world would -have worshipped you, and you would have borne my name. -What are you now? A thirdrate actress with a pretty -face." -The girl grew white, and trembled. She clenched her hands together, -and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. "You are not serious, Dorian?" -she murmured. "You are acting." -"Acting I leave that to you. You do it so well," he answered bitterly. -She rose from her knees and, with a piteous expression of pain -in her face, came across the room to him. She put her hand -upon his arm and looked into his eyes. He thrust her back. -"Don't touch me" he cried. -A low moan broke from her, and she flung herself at his feet -and lay there like a trampled flower. "Dorian, Dorian, -don't leave me" she whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't act well. -I was thinking of you all the time. But I will tryindeed, I -will try. It came so suddenly across me, my love for you. -I think I should never have known it if you had not kissed me -if we had not kissed each other. Kiss me again, my love. -Don't go away from me. I couldn't bear it. Oh don't go away -from me. My brother . . . No never mind. He didn't mean it. -He was in jest. . . . But you, oh can't you forgive me for -tonight? I will work so hard and try to improve. Don't be cruel -to me, because I love you better than anything in the world. -After all, it is only once that I have not pleased you. -But you are quite right, Dorian. I should have shown -myself more of an artist. It was foolish of me, and yet I -couldn't help it. Oh, don't leave me, don't leave me." -A fit of passionate sobbing choked her. She crouched on -the floor like a wounded thing, and Dorian Gray, with his -beautiful eyes, looked down at her, and his chiselled lips curled -in exquisite disdain. There is always something ridiculous -about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. -Sibyl Vane seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic. -Her tears and sobs annoyed him. -"I am going," he said at last in his calm clear voice. -"I don't wish to be unkind, but I can't see you again. -You have disappointed me." -She wept silently, and made no answer, but crept nearer. -Her little hands stretched blindly out, and appeared to be -seeking for him. He turned on his heel and left the room. -In a few moments he was out of the theatre. -Where he went to he hardly knew. He remembered wandering through dimly -lit streets, past gaunt, blackshadowed archways and evillooking houses. -Women with hoarse voices and harsh laughter had called after him. -Drunkards had reeled by, cursing and chattering to themselves like -monstrous apes. He had seen grotesque children huddled upon doorsteps, and -heard shrieks and oaths from gloomy courts. -As the dawn was just breaking, he found himself close to Covent Garden. -The darkness lifted, and, flushed with faint fires, the sky hollowed itself -into a perfect pearl. Huge carts filled with nodding lilies rumbled slowly -down the polished empty street. The air was heavy with the perfume of -the flowers, and their beauty seemed to bring him an anodyne for his pain. -He followed into the market and watched the men unloading their waggons. -A whitesmocked carter offered him some cherries. He thanked him, -wondered why he refused to accept any money for them, and began to eat -them listlessly. They had been plucked at midnight, and the coldness -of the moon had entered into them. A long line of boys carrying crates -of striped tulips, and of yellow and red roses, defiled in front of him, -threading their way through the huge, jadegreen piles of vegetables. -Under the portico, with its grey, sunbleached pillars, loitered a troop -of draggled bareheaded girls, waiting for the auction to be over. -Others crowded round the swinging doors of the coffeehouse in the piazza. -The heavy carthorses slipped and stamped upon the rough stones, -shaking their bells and trappings. Some of the drivers were lying asleep -on a pile of sacks. Irisnecked and pinkfooted, the pigeons ran about -picking up seeds. -After a little while, he hailed a hansom and drove home. -For a few moments he loitered upon the doorstep, looking round -at the silent square, with its blank, closeshuttered windows -and its staring blinds. The sky was pure opal now, -and the roofs of the houses glistened like silver against it. -From some chimney opposite a thin wreath of smoke was rising. -It curled, a violet riband, through the nacrecoloured air. -In the huge gilt Venetian lantern, spoil of some Doge's barge, -that hung from the ceiling of the great, oakpanelled hall -of entrance, lights were still burning from three flickering jets -thin blue petals of flame they seemed, rimmed with white fire. -He turned them out and, having thrown his hat and cape on the table, -passed through the library towards the door of his bedroom, -a large octagonal chamber on the ground floor that, in his newborn -feeling for luxury, he had just had decorated for himself and hung -with some curious Renaissance tapestries that had been discovered -stored in a disused attic at Selby Royal. As he was turning -the handle of the door, his eye fell upon the portrait Basil -Hallward had painted of him. He started back as if in surprise. -Then he went on into his own room, looking somewhat puzzled. -After he had taken the buttonhole out of his coat, he seemed -to hesitate. Finally, he came back, went over to the picture, -and examined it. In the dim arrested light that struggled -through the creamcoloured silk blinds, the face appeared to him -to be a little changed. The expression looked different. -One would have said that there was a touch of cruelty in the mouth. -It was certainly strange. -He turned round and, walking to the window, drew up the blind. -The bright dawn flooded the room and swept the fantastic -shadows into dusky corners, where they lay shuddering. -But the strange expression that he had noticed in the face of -the portrait seemed to linger there, to be more intensified even. -The quivering ardent sunlight showed him the lines of cruelty round -the mouth as clearly as if he had been looking into a mirror after -he had done some dreadful thing. -He winced and, taking up from the table an oval glass framed -in ivory Cupids, one of Lord Henry's many presents to him, -glanced hurriedly into its polished depths. No line like that -warped his red lips. What did it mean? -He rubbed his eyes, and came close to the picture, and examined it again. -There were no signs of any change when he looked into the actual painting, -and yet there was no doubt that the whole expression had altered. It was not -a mere fancy of his own. The thing was horribly apparent. -He threw himself into a chair and began to think. Suddenly there flashed -across his mind what he had said in Basil Hallward's studio the day -the picture had been finished. Yes, he remembered it perfectly. -He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain young, -and the portrait grow old that his own beauty might be untarnished, -and the face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins -that the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering -and thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness -of his then just conscious boyhood. Surely his wish had not been fulfilled? -Such things were impossible. It seemed monstrous even to think of them. -And, yet, there was the picture before him, with the touch of cruelty in -the mouth. -Cruelty Had he been cruel? It was the girl's fault, not his. -He had dreamed of her as a great artist, had given his love to her -because he had thought her great. Then she had disappointed him. -She had been shallow and unworthy. And, yet, a feeling -of infinite regret came over him, as he thought of her lying -at his feet sobbing like a little child. He remembered with what -callousness he had watched her. Why had he been made like that? -Why had such a soul been given to him? But he had suffered also. -During the three terrible hours that the play had lasted, -he had lived centuries of pain, aeon upon aeon of torture. -His life was well worth hers. She had marred him for a moment, -if he had wounded her for an age. Besides, women were better -suited to bear sorrow than men. They lived on their emotions. -They only thought of their emotions. When they took lovers, -it was merely to have some one with whom they could have scenes. -Lord Henry had told him that, and Lord Henry knew what women were. -Why should he trouble about Sibyl Vane? She was nothing to him -now. -But the picture? What was he to say of that? It held the secret of his life, -and told his story. It had taught him to love his own beauty. Would it teach -him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look at it again? -No it was merely an illusion wrought on the troubled senses. -The horrible night that he had passed had left phantoms behind it. -Suddenly there had fallen upon his brain that tiny scarlet speck -that makes men mad. The picture had not changed. It was folly to -think so. -Yet it was watching him, with its beautiful marred face and its cruel smile. -Its bright hair gleamed in the early sunlight. Its blue eyes met his own. -A sense of infinite pity, not for himself, but for the painted image -of himself, came over him. It had altered already, and would alter more. -Its gold would wither into grey. Its red and white roses would die. -For every sin that he committed, a stain would fleck and wreck its fairness. -But he would not sin. The picture, changed or unchanged, would be -to him the visible emblem of conscience. He would resist temptation. -He would not see Lord Henry any morewould not, at any rate, -listen to those subtle poisonous theories that in Basil Hallward's -garden had first stirred within him the passion for impossible things. -He would go back to Sibyl Vane, make her amends, marry her, try to love -her again. Yes, it was his duty to do so. She must have suffered -more than he had. Poor child He had been selfish and cruel to her. -The fascination that she had exercised over him would return. -They would be happy together. His life with her would be beautiful and -pure. -He got up from his chair and drew a large screen right in front -of the portrait, shuddering as he glanced at it. "How horrible" -he murmured to himself, and he walked across to the window and opened it. -When he stepped out on to the grass, he drew a deep breath. -The fresh morning air seemed to drive away all his sombre passions. -He thought only of Sibyl. A faint echo of his love came back to him. -He repeated her name over and over again. The birds that were -singing in the dewdrenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers -about her. -CHAPTER -It was long past noon when he awoke. His valet had crept -several times on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring, -and had wondered what made his young master sleep so late. -Finally his bell sounded, and Victor came in softly with a cup -of tea, and a pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres china, -and drew back the olivesatin curtains, with their shimmering -blue lining, that hung in front of the three tall windows. -"Monsieur has well slept this morning," he said, smiling. -"What o'clock is it, Victor?" asked Dorian Gray drowsily. -"One hour and a quarter, Monsieur." -How late it was He sat up, and having sipped some tea, -turned over his letters. One of them was from Lord Henry, and had -been brought by hand that morning. He hesitated for a moment, -and then put it aside. The others he opened listlessly. -They contained the usual collection of cards, invitations to dinner, -tickets for private views, programmes of charity concerts, -and the like that are showered on fashionable young men every -morning during the season. There was a rather heavy bill -for a chased silver LouisQuinze toiletset that he had not -yet had the courage to send on to his guardians, who were -extremely oldfashioned people and did not realize that we live -in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities -and there were several very courteously worded communications -from Jermyn Street moneylenders offering to advance any sum -of money at a moment's notice and at the most reasonable rates -of interest. -After about ten minutes he got up, and throwing on an elaborate dressinggown -of silkembroidered cashmere wool, passed into the onyxpaved bathroom. -The cool water refreshed him after his long sleep. He seemed to have -forgotten all that he had gone through. A dim sense of having taken part -in some strange tragedy came to him once or twice, but there was the unreality -of a dream about it. -As soon as he was dressed, he went into the library and sat -down to a light French breakfast that had been laid out -for him on a small round table close to the open window. -It was an exquisite day. The warm air seemed laden with spices. -A bee flew in and buzzed round the bluedragon bowl that, -filled with sulphuryellow roses, stood before him. He felt -perfectly happy. -Suddenly his eye fell on the screen that he had placed in front -of the portrait, and he started. -"Too cold for Monsieur?" asked his valet, putting an omelette on the table. -"I shut the window?" -Dorian shook his head. "I am not cold," he murmured. -Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? -Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him -see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy? -Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. -It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make -him smile. -And, yet, how vivid was his recollection of the whole thing -First in the dim twilight, and then in the bright dawn, -he had seen the touch of cruelty round the warped lips. -He almost dreaded his valet leaving the room. He knew that -when he was alone he would have to examine the portrait. -He was afraid of certainty. When the coffee and cigarettes -had been brought and the man turned to go, he felt a wild desire -to tell him to remain. As the door was closing behind him, -he called him back. The man stood waiting for his orders. -Dorian looked at him for a moment. "I am not at home -to any one, Victor," he said with a sigh. The man bowed -and retired. -Then he rose from the table, lit a cigarette, and flung -himself down on a luxuriously cushioned couch that stood facing -the screen. The screen was an old one, of gilt Spanish leather, -stamped and wrought with a rather florid LouisQuatorze pattern. -He scanned it curiously, wondering if ever before it had concealed -the secret of a man's life. -Should he move it aside, after all? Why not let it stay there? -What was the use of knowing? If the thing was true, -it was terrible. If it was not true, why trouble about it? -But what if, by some fate or deadlier chance, eyes other than -his spied behind and saw the horrible change? What should he do -if Basil Hallward came and asked to look at his own picture? -Basil would be sure to do that. No the thing had to be examined, -and at once. Anything would be better than this dreadful state -of doubt. -He got up and locked both doors. At least he would be alone when he looked -upon the mask of his shame. Then he drew the screen aside and saw himself -face to face. It was perfectly true. The portrait had altered. -As he often remembered afterwards, and always with no small wonder, -he found himself at first gazing at the portrait with a feeling -of almost scientific interest. That such a change should have -taken place was incredible to him. And yet it was a fact. -Was there some subtle affinity between the chemical atoms that -shaped themselves into form and colour on the canvas and the soul -that was within him? Could it be that what that soul thought, -they realized?that what it dreamed, they made true? -Or was there some other, more terrible reason? He shuddered, -and felt afraid, and, going back to the couch, lay there, -gazing at the picture in sickened horror. -One thing, however, he felt that it had done for him. -It had made him conscious how unjust, how cruel, he had been -to Sibyl Vane. It was not too late to make reparation for that. -She could still be his wife. His unreal and selfish love -would yield to some higher influence, would be transformed -into some nobler passion, and the portrait that Basil Hallward -had painted of him would be a guide to him through life, -would be to him what holiness is to some, and conscience -to others, and the fear of God to us all. There were opiates -for remorse, drugs that could lull the moral sense to sleep. -But here was a visible symbol of the degradation of sin. -Here was an everpresent sign of the ruin men brought upon -their souls. -Three o'clock struck, and four, and the halfhour rang its double chime, -but Dorian Gray did not stir. He was trying to gather up the scarlet -threads of life and to weave them into a pattern to find his way through -the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering. -He did not know what to do, or what to think. Finally, he went over -to the table and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved, -imploring her forgiveness and accusing himself of madness. He covered -page after page with wild words of sorrow and wilder words of pain. -There is a luxury in selfreproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no -one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, -that gives us absolution. When Dorian had finished the letter, he felt that -he had been forgiven. -Suddenly there came a knock to the door, and he heard Lord Henry's -voice outside. "My dear boy, I must see you. Let me in at once. -I can't bear your shutting yourself up like this." -He made no answer at first, but remained quite still. -The knocking still continued and grew louder. Yes, it was -better to let Lord Henry in, and to explain to him the new -life he was going to lead, to quarrel with him if it became -necessary to quarrel, to part if parting was inevitable. -He jumped up, drew the screen hastily across the picture, -and unlocked the door. -"I am so sorry for it all, Dorian," said Lord Henry as he entered. -"But you must not think too much about it." -"Do you mean about Sibyl Vane?" asked the lad. -"Yes, of course," answered Lord Henry, sinking into a chair -and slowly pulling off his yellow gloves. "It is dreadful, -from one point of view, but it was not your fault. Tell me, -did you go behind and see her, after the play was over?" -"Yes." -"I felt sure you had. Did you make a scene with her?" -"I was brutal, Harryperfectly brutal. But it is all right now. -I am not sorry for anything that has happened. It has taught me to know -myself better." -"Ah, Dorian, I am so glad you take it in that way I was afraid I -would find you plunged in remorse and tearing that nice curly hair -of yours." -"I have got through all that," said Dorian, shaking his head and smiling. -"I am perfectly happy now. I know what conscience is, to begin with. -It is not what you told me it was. It is the divinest thing in us. -Don't sneer at it, Harry, any moreat least not before me. I want to -be good. I can't bear the idea of my soul being hideous." -"A very charming artistic basis for ethics, Dorian I congratulate you -on it. But how are you going to begin?" -"By marrying Sibyl Vane." -"Marrying Sibyl Vane" cried Lord Henry, standing up and looking -at him in perplexed amazement. "But, my dear Dorian" -"Yes, Harry, I know what you are going to say. Something dreadful -about marriage. Don't say it. Don't ever say things of that -kind to me again. Two days ago I asked Sibyl to marry me. -I am not going to break my word to her. She is to be my wife." -"Your wife Dorian . . . Didn't you get my letter? -I wrote to you this morning, and sent the note down by my -own man." -"Your letter? Oh, yes, I remember. I have not read it yet, Harry. -I was afraid there might be something in it that I wouldn't like. -You cut life to pieces with your epigrams." -"You know nothing then?" -"What do you mean?" -Lord Henry walked across the room, and sitting down by Dorian Gray, -took both his hands in his own and held them tightly. "Dorian," he said, -"my letterdon't be frightenedwas to tell you that Sibyl Vane -is dead." -A cry of pain broke from the lad's lips, and he leaped to his feet, -tearing his hands away from Lord Henry's grasp. "Dead Sibyl dead -It is not true It is a horrible lie How dare you say it?" -"It is quite true, Dorian," said Lord Henry, gravely. "It is in -all the morning papers. I wrote down to you to ask you not to see -any one till I came. There will have to be an inquest, of course, -and you must not be mixed up in it. Things like that make a man -fashionable in Paris. But in London people are so prejudiced. -Here, one should never make one's debut with a scandal. -One should reserve that to give an interest to one's old age. -I suppose they don't know your name at the theatre? If they don't, -it is all right. Did any one see you going round to her room? -That is an important point." -Dorian did not answer for a few moments. He was dazed with horror. -Finally he stammered, in a stifled voice, "Harry, did you say an inquest? -What did you mean by that? Did Sibyl? Oh, Harry, I can't bear it -But be quick. Tell me everything at once." -"I have no doubt it was not an accident, Dorian, though it -must be put in that way to the public. It seems that as she -was leaving the theatre with her mother, about halfpast -twelve or so, she said she had forgotten something upstairs. -They waited some time for her, but she did not come down again. -They ultimately found her lying dead on the floor of her -dressingroom. She had swallowed something by mistake, -some dreadful thing they use at theatres. I don't know what -it was, but it had either prussic acid or white lead in it. -I should fancy it was prussic acid, as she seems to have -died instantaneously." -"Harry, Harry, it is terrible" cried the lad. -"Yes it is very tragic, of course, but you must not get yourself -mixed up in it. I see by The Standard that she was seventeen. -I should have thought she was almost younger than that. -She looked such a child, and seemed to know so little about acting. -Dorian, you mustn't let this thing get on your nerves. -You must come and dine with me, and afterwards we will look in at -the opera. It is a Patti night, and everybody will be there. -You can come to my sister's box. She has got some smart women -with her." -"So I have murdered Sibyl Vane," said Dorian Gray, half to himself, -"murdered her as surely as if I had cut her little throat -with a knife. Yet the roses are not less lovely for all that. -The birds sing just as happily in my garden. And tonight I am -to dine with you, and then go on to the opera, and sup somewhere, -I suppose, afterwards. How extraordinarily dramatic life is -If I had read all this in a book, Harry, I think I would have -wept over it. Somehow, now that it has happened actually, -and to me, it seems far too wonderful for tears. -Here is the first passionate loveletter I have ever written -in my life. Strange, that my first passionate loveletter should -have been addressed to a dead girl. Can they feel, I wonder, -those white silent people we call the dead? Sibyl Can she feel, -or know, or listen? Oh, Harry, how I loved her once -It seems years ago to me now. She was everything to me. -Then came that dreadful nightwas it really only last night? -when she played so badly, and my heart almost broke. -She explained it all to me. It was terribly pathetic. -But I was not moved a bit. I thought her shallow. -Suddenly something happened that made me afraid. -I can't tell you what it was, but it was terrible. -I said I would go back to her. I felt I had done wrong. -And now she is dead. My God My God Harry, what shall I do? -You don't know the danger I am in, and there is nothing -to keep me straight. She would have done that for me. -She had no right to kill herself. It was selfish of -her." -"My dear Dorian," answered Lord Henry, taking a cigarette -from his case and producing a goldlatten matchbox, -"the only way a woman can ever reform a man is by boring him -so completely that he loses all possible interest in life. -If you had married this girl, you would have been wretched. -Of course, you would have treated her kindly. One can always -be kind to people about whom one cares nothing. But she would -have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent -to her. And when a woman finds that out about her husband, -she either becomes dreadfully dowdy, or wears very smart -bonnets that some other woman's husband has to pay for. -I say nothing about the social mistake, which would have -been abjectwhich, of course, I would not have allowed -but I assure you that in any case the whole thing would have been an -absolute failure." -"I suppose it would," muttered the lad, walking up and down the room -and looking horribly pale. "But I thought it was my duty. -It is not my fault that this terrible tragedy has prevented my doing -what was right. I remember your saying once that there is a fatality -about good resolutionsthat they are always made too late. -Mine certainly were." -"Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere -with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. -Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, -some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain -charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. -They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have -no account." -"Harry," cried Dorian Gray, coming over and sitting down beside him, -"why is it that I cannot feel this tragedy as much as I want to? -I don't think I am heartless. Do you?" -"You have done too many foolish things during the last fortnight -to be entitled to give yourself that name, Dorian," answered Lord -Henry with his sweet melancholy smile. -The lad frowned. "I don't like that explanation, Harry," he rejoined, -"but I am glad you don't think I am heartless. I am nothing of the kind. -I know I am not. And yet I must admit that this thing that has happened -does not affect me as it should. It seems to me to be simply like a -wonderful ending to a wonderful play. It has all the terrible beauty -of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in which I took a great part, but by which I -have not been wounded." -"It is an interesting question," said Lord Henry, who found -an exquisite pleasure in playing on the lad's unconscious egotism, -"an extremely interesting question. I fancy that the true -explanation is this It often happens that the real tragedies -of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt -us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, -their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. -They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us -an impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. -Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements -of beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, -the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. -Suddenly we find that we are no longer the actors, -but the spectators of the play. Or rather we are both. -We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder of the spectacle -enthralls us. In the present case, what is it that has -really happened? Some one has killed herself for love of you. -I wish that I had ever had such an experience. It would -have made me in love with love for the rest of my life. -The people who have adored methere have not been very many, -but there have been somehave always insisted on living on, -long after I had ceased to care for them, or they to care for me. -They have become stout and tedious, and when I meet them, -they go in at once for reminiscences. That awful memory of woman -What a fearful thing it is And what an utter intellectual -stagnation it reveals One should absorb the colour of life, -but one should never remember its details. Details are always -vulgar." -"I must sow poppies in my garden," sighed Dorian. -"There is no necessity," rejoined his companion. "Life has always -poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. -I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, -as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die. -Ultimately, however, it did die. I forget what killed it. -I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me. -That is always a dreadful moment. It fills one with the terror -of eternity. Wellwould you believe it?a week ago, -at Lady Hampshire's, I found myself seated at dinner next -the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole -thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. -I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel. She dragged -it out again and assured me that I had spoiled her life. -I am bound to state that she ate an enormous dinner, so I did -not feel any anxiety. But what a lack of taste she showed -The one charm of the past is that it is the past. -But women never know when the curtain has fallen. -They always want a sixth act, and as soon as the interest -of the play is entirely over, they propose to continue it. -If they were allowed their own way, every comedy would have -a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in a farce. -They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of art. -You are more fortunate than I am. I assure you, Dorian, that not -one of the women I have known would have done for me what Sibyl -Vane did for you. Ordinary women always console themselves. -Some of them do it by going in for sentimental colours. -Never trust a woman who wears mauve, whatever her age may be, -or a woman over thirtyfive who is fond of pink ribbons. -It always means that they have a history. Others find -a great consolation in suddenly discovering the good qualities -of their husbands. They flaunt their conjugal felicity -in one's face, as if it were the most fascinating of sins. -Religion consoles some. Its mysteries have all the charm -of a flirtation, a woman once told me, and I can quite -understand it. Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told -that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all. -Yes there is really no end to the consolations that women find -in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most important -one." -"What is that, Harry?" said the lad listlessly. -"Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking some one else's admirer when one -loses one's own. In good society that always whitewashes a woman. -But really, Dorian, how different Sibyl Vane must have been from all the women -one meets There is something to me quite beautiful about her death. -I am glad I am living in a century when such wonders happen. -They make one believe in the reality of the things we all play with, -such as romance, passion, and love." -"I was terribly cruel to her. You forget that." -"I am afraid that women appreciate cruelty, downright cruelty, -more than anything else. They have wonderfully primitive instincts. -We have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their masters, -all the same. They love being dominated. I am sure you were splendid. -I have never seen you really and absolutely angry, but I can fancy how -delightful you looked. And, after all, you said something to me the day -before yesterday that seemed to me at the time to be merely fanciful, -but that I see now was absolutely true, and it holds the key -to everything." -"What was that, Harry?" -"You said to me that Sibyl Vane represented to you all the heroines -of romancethat she was Desdemona one night, and Ophelia the other -that if she died as Juliet, she came to life as Imogen." -"She will never come to life again now," muttered the lad, -burying his face in his hands. -"No, she will never come to life. She has played her last part. -But you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressingroom -simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, -as a wonderful scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur. -The girl never really lived, and so she has never really died. -To you at least she was always a dream, a phantom that flitted -through Shakespeare's plays and left them lovelier for its presence, -a reed through which Shakespeare's music sounded richer and more -full of joy. The moment she touched actual life, she marred it, -and it marred her, and so she passed away. Mourn for Ophelia, -if you like. Put ashes on your head because Cordelia was strangled. -Cry out against Heaven because the daughter of Brabantio died. -But don't waste your tears over Sibyl Vane. She was less real than they -are." -There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. -Noiselessly, and with silver feet, the shadows crept in from -the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things. -After some time Dorian Gray looked up. "You have explained me -to myself, Harry," he murmured with something of a sigh of relief. -"I felt all that you have said, but somehow I was afraid of it, -and I could not express it to myself. How well you know me -But we will not talk again of what has happened. It has been -a marvellous experience. That is all. I wonder if life has still -in store for me anything as marvellous." -"Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that you, -with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do." -"But suppose, Harry, I became haggard, and old, and wrinkled? -What then?" -"Ah, then," said Lord Henry, rising to go, "then, my dear Dorian, -you would have to fight for your victories. As it is, -they are brought to you. No, you must keep your good looks. -We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that -thinks too much to be beautiful. We cannot spare you. -And now you had better dress and drive down to the club. -We are rather late, as it is." -"I think I shall join you at the opera, Harry. I feel too tired -to eat anything. What is the number of your sister's box?" -"Twentyseven, I believe. It is on the grand tier. -You will see her name on the door. But I am sorry you won't -come and dine." -"I don't feel up to it," said Dorian listlessly. "But I am -awfully obliged to you for all that you have said to me. -You are certainly my best friend. No one has ever understood me -as you have." -"We are only at the beginning of our friendship, Dorian," answered Lord Henry, -shaking him by the hand. "Goodbye. I shall see you before ninethirty, -I hope. Remember, Patti is singing." -As he closed the door behind him, Dorian Gray touched the bell, -and in a few minutes Victor appeared with the lamps and drew -the blinds down. He waited impatiently for him to go. -The man seemed to take an interminable time over everything. -As soon as he had left, he rushed to the screen and drew it back. -No there was no further change in the picture. It had received -the news of Sibyl Vane's death before he had known of it himself. -It was conscious of the events of life as they occurred. -The vicious cruelty that marred the fine lines of the mouth had, -no doubt, appeared at the very moment that the girl had drunk -the poison, whatever it was. Or was it indifferent to results? -Did it merely take cognizance of what passed within the soul? -He wondered, and hoped that some day he would see the change taking place -before his very eyes, shuddering as he hoped it. -Poor Sibyl What a romance it had all been She had often mimicked -death on the stage. Then Death himself had touched her and taken -her with him. How had she played that dreadful last scene? -Had she cursed him, as she died? No she had died for love of him, -and love would always be a sacrament to him now. She had atoned -for everything by the sacrifice she had made of her life. -He would not think any more of what she had made him go through, -on that horrible night at the theatre. When he thought of her, -it would be as a wonderful tragic figure sent on to the world's stage -to show the supreme reality of love. A wonderful tragic figure? -Tears came to his eyes as he remembered her childlike look, and winsome -fanciful ways, and shy tremulous grace. He brushed them away hastily and -looked again at the picture. -He felt that the time had really come for making his choice. -Or had his choice already been made? Yes, life had decided -that for himlife, and his own infinite curiosity about life. -Eternal youth, infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, -wild joys and wilder sinshe was to have all these things. -The portrait was to bear the burden of his shame -that was all. -A feeling of pain crept over him as he thought of the desecration -that was in store for the fair face on the canvas. Once, in boyish -mockery of Narcissus, he had kissed, or feigned to kiss, -those painted lips that now smiled so cruelly at him. -Morning after morning he had sat before the portrait wondering at -its beauty, almost enamoured of it, as it seemed to him at times. -Was it to alter now with every mood to which he yielded? -Was it to become a monstrous and loathsome thing, to be hidden -away in a locked room, to be shut out from the sunlight that had -so often touched to brighter gold the waving wonder of its hair? -The pity of it the pity of it -For a moment, he thought of praying that the horrible sympathy -that existed between him and the picture might cease. -It had changed in answer to a prayer perhaps in answer to a prayer -it might remain unchanged. And yet, who, that knew anything -about life, would surrender the chance of remaining always young, -however fantastic that chance might be, or with what fateful consequences -it might be fraught? Besides, was it really under his control? -Had it indeed been prayer that had produced the substitution? -Might there not be some curious scientific reason for it all? -If thought could exercise its influence upon a living organism, -might not thought exercise an influence upon dead and inorganic things? -Nay, without thought or conscious desire, might not things external -to ourselves vibrate in unison with our moods and passions, -atom calling to atom in secret love or strange affinity? -But the reason was of no importance. He would never again tempt -by a prayer any terrible power. If the picture was to alter, -it was to alter. That was all. Why inquire too closely -into it? -For there would be a real pleasure in watching it. -He would be able to follow his mind into its secret places. -This portrait would be to him the most magical of mirrors. -As it had revealed to him his own body, so it would reveal -to him his own soul. And when winter came upon it, he would -still be standing where spring trembles on the verge of summer. -When the blood crept from its face, and left behind a pallid mask -of chalk with leaden eyes, he would keep the glamour of boyhood. -Not one blossom of his loveliness would ever fade. Not one pulse -of his life would ever weaken. Like the gods of the Greeks, -he would be strong, and fleet, and joyous. What did it matter what -happened to the coloured image on the canvas? He would be safe. -That was everything. -He drew the screen back into its former place in front of the picture, -smiling as he did so, and passed into his bedroom, where his valet was -already waiting for him. An hour later he was at the opera, and Lord -Henry was leaning over his chair. -CHAPTER -As he was sitting at breakfast next morning, Basil Hallward was shown -into the room. -"I am so glad I have found you, Dorian," he said gravely. -"I called last night, and they told me you were at the opera. -Of course, I knew that was impossible. But I wish you had left -word where you had really gone to. I passed a dreadful evening, -half afraid that one tragedy might be followed by another. -I think you might have telegraphed for me when you heard of it first. -I read of it quite by chance in a late edition of The Globe -that I picked up at the club. I came here at once and was -miserable at not finding you. I can't tell you how heartbroken -I am about the whole thing. I know what you must suffer. -But where were you? Did you go down and see the girl's mother? -For a moment I thought of following you there. They gave -the address in the paper. Somewhere in the Euston Road, isn't it? -But I was afraid of intruding upon a sorrow that I could -not lighten. Poor woman What a state she must be in -And her only child, too What did she say about it -all?" -"My dear Basil, how do I know?" murmured Dorian Gray, sipping some -paleyellow wine from a delicate, goldbeaded bubble of Venetian -glass and looking dreadfully bored. "I was at the opera. -You should have come on there. I met Lady Gwendolen, Harry's sister, -for the first time. We were in her box. She is perfectly charming -and Patti sang divinely. Don't talk about horrid subjects. -If one doesn't talk about a thing, it has never happened. -It is simply expression, as Harry says, that gives reality to things. -I may mention that she was not the woman's only child. There is -a son, a charming fellow, I believe. But he is not on the stage. -He is a sailor, or something. And now, tell me about yourself and what you -are painting." -"You went to the opera?" said Hallward, speaking very slowly -and with a strained touch of pain in his voice. "You went to -the opera while Sibyl Vane was lying dead in some sordid lodging? -You can talk to me of other women being charming, and of Patti -singing divinely, before the girl you loved has even the quiet -of a grave to sleep in? Why, man, there are horrors in store -for that little white body of hers" -"Stop, Basil I won't hear it" cried Dorian, leaping to his feet. -"You must not tell me about things. What is done is done. -What is past is past." -"You call yesterday the past?" -"What has the actual lapse of time got to do with it? It is -only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. -A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can -invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. -I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them." -"Dorian, this is horrible Something has changed you completely. -You look exactly the same wonderful boy who, day after day, -used to come down to my studio to sit for his picture. -But you were simple, natural, and affectionate then. -You were the most unspoiled creature in the whole world. -Now, I don't know what has come over you. You talk as if you -had no heart, no pity in you. It is all Harry's influence. -I see that." -The lad flushed up and, going to the window, looked out for -a few moments on the green, flickering, sunlashed garden. -"I owe a great deal to Harry, Basil," he said at last, -"more than I owe to you. You only taught me to be vain." -"Well, I am punished for that, Dorianor shall be some day." -"I don't know what you mean, Basil," he exclaimed, turning round. -"I don't know what you want. What do you want?" -"I want the Dorian Gray I used to paint," said the artist sadly. -"Basil," said the lad, going over to him and putting his hand -on his shoulder, "you have come too late. Yesterday, when I -heard that Sibyl Vane had killed herself" -"Killed herself Good heavens is there no doubt about that?" -cried Hallward, looking up at him with an expression of horror. -"My dear Basil Surely you don't think it was a vulgar accident? -Of course she killed herself." -The elder man buried his face in his hands. "How fearful," -he muttered, and a shudder ran through him. -"No," said Dorian Gray, "there is nothing fearful about it. -It is one of the great romantic tragedies of the age. -As a rule, people who act lead the most commonplace lives. -They are good husbands, or faithful wives, or something tedious. -You know what I meanmiddleclass virtue and all that kind of thing. -How different Sibyl was She lived her finest tragedy. -She was always a heroine. The last night she played -the night you saw hershe acted badly because she had known -the reality of love. When she knew its unreality, she died, -as Juliet might have died. She passed again into the sphere of art. -There is something of the martyr about her. Her death has all -the pathetic uselessness of martyrdom, all its wasted beauty. -But, as I was saying, you must not think I have not suffered. -If you had come in yesterday at a particular moment -about halfpast five, perhaps, or a quarter to six -you would have found me in tears. Even Harry, who was here, -who brought me the news, in fact, had no idea what I was -going through. I suffered immensely. Then it passed away. -I cannot repeat an emotion. No one can, except sentimentalists. -And you are awfully unjust, Basil. You come down here to console me. -That is charming of you. You find me consoled, and you are furious. -How like a sympathetic person You remind me of a story -Harry told me about a certain philanthropist who spent twenty -years of his life in trying to get some grievance redressed, -or some unjust law alteredI forget exactly what it was. -Finally he succeeded, and nothing could exceed his disappointment. -He had absolutely nothing to do, almost died of ennui, and became -a confirmed misanthrope. And besides, my dear old Basil, -if you really want to console me, teach me rather to forget what -has happened, or to see it from a proper artistic point of view. -Was it not Gautier who used to write about la consolation des arts? -I remember picking up a little vellumcovered book in your -studio one day and chancing on that delightful phrase. -Well, I am not like that young man you told me of when we -were down at Marlow together, the young man who used to say -that yellow satin could console one for all the miseries of life. -I love beautiful things that one can touch and handle. -Old brocades, green bronzes, lacquerwork, carved ivories, -exquisite surroundings, luxury, pompthere is much to be got -from all these. But the artistic temperament that they create, -or at any rate reveal, is still more to me. To become -the spectator of one's own life, as Harry says, is to escape -the suffering of life. I know you are surprised at my talking -to you like this. You have not realized how I have developed. -I was a schoolboy when you knew me. I am a man now. -I have new passions, new thoughts, new ideas. I am different, -but you must not like me less. I am changed, but you must -always be my friend. Of course, I am very fond of Harry. -But I know that you are better than he is. You are not stronger -you are too much afraid of lifebut you are better. And how -happy we used to be together Don't leave me, Basil, and don't -quarrel with me. I am what I am. There is nothing more to be -said." -The painter felt strangely moved. The lad was infinitely dear to him, -and his personality had been the great turning point in his art. -He could not bear the idea of reproaching him any more. After all, -his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. -There was so much in him that was good, so much in him that -was noble. -"Well, Dorian," he said at length, with a sad smile, "I -won't speak to you again about this horrible thing, after today. -I only trust your name won't be mentioned in connection with it. -The inquest is to take place this afternoon. Have they summoned you?" -Dorian shook his head, and a look of annoyance passed over his face -at the mention of the word "inquest." There was something so crude -and vulgar about everything of the kind. "They don't know my name," -he answered. -"But surely she did?" -"Only my Christian name, and that I am quite sure she never mentioned -to any one. She told me once that they were all rather curious to learn -who I was, and that she invariably told them my name was Prince Charming. -It was pretty of her. You must do me a drawing of Sibyl, Basil. -I should like to have something more of her than the memory of a few kisses -and some broken pathetic words." -"I will try and do something, Dorian, if it would please you. -But you must come and sit to me yourself again. I can't get on -without you." -"I can never sit to you again, Basil. It is impossible" -he exclaimed, starting back. -The painter stared at him. "My dear boy, what nonsense" -he cried. "Do you mean to say you don't like what I did of you? -Where is it? Why have you pulled the screen in front of it? -Let me look at it. It is the best thing I have ever done. -Do take the screen away, Dorian. It is simply disgraceful -of your servant hiding my work like that. I felt the room looked -different as I came in." -"My servant has nothing to do with it, Basil. You don't imagine I let -him arrange my room for me? He settles my flowers for me sometimes -that is all. No I did it myself. The light was too strong on -the portrait." -"Too strong Surely not, my dear fellow? It is an admirable place for it. -Let me see it." And Hallward walked towards the corner of the room. -A cry of terror broke from Dorian Gray's lips, and he rushed -between the painter and the screen. "Basil," he said, -looking very pale, "you must not look at it. I don't wish -you to." -"Not look at my own work You are not serious. Why shouldn't I look at it?" -exclaimed Hallward, laughing. -"If you try to look at it, Basil, on my word of honour I will -never speak to you again as long as I live. I am quite serious. -I don't offer any explanation, and you are not to ask for any. -But, remember, if you touch this screen, everything is over -between us." -Hallward was thunderstruck. He looked at Dorian Gray in -absolute amazement. He had never seen him like this before. -The lad was actually pallid with rage. His hands were clenched, -and the pupils of his eyes were like disks of blue fire. -He was trembling all over. -"Dorian" -"Don't speak" -"But what is the matter? Of course I won't look at it if you don't want -me to," he said, rather coldly, turning on his heel and going over towards -the window. "But, really, it seems rather absurd that I shouldn't see my -own work, especially as I am going to exhibit it in Paris in the autumn. -I shall probably have to give it another coat of varnish before that, so I -must see it some day, and why not today?" -"To exhibit it You want to exhibit it?" exclaimed Dorian Gray, -a strange sense of terror creeping over him. Was the world going to be -shown his secret? Were people to gape at the mystery of his life? -That was impossible. Somethinghe did not know whathad to be done -at once. -"Yes I don't suppose you will object to that. Georges Petit -is going to collect all my best pictures for a special exhibition -in the Rue de Seze, which will open the first week in October. -The portrait will only be away a month. I should think you could easily -spare it for that time. In fact, you are sure to be out of town. -And if you keep it always behind a screen, you can't care much -about it." -Dorian Gray passed his hand over his forehead. There were beads of -perspiration there. He felt that he was on the brink of a horrible danger. -"You told me a month ago that you would never exhibit it," he cried. -"Why have you changed your mind? You people who go in for being consistent -have just as many moods as others have. The only difference is that -your moods are rather meaningless. You can't have forgotten that you -assured me most solemnly that nothing in the world would induce you -to send it to any exhibition. You told Harry exactly the same thing." -He stopped suddenly, and a gleam of light came into his eyes. He remembered -that Lord Henry had said to him once, half seriously and half in jest, -"If you want to have a strange quarter of an hour, get Basil to tell you -why he won't exhibit your picture. He told me why he wouldn't, and it -was a revelation to me." Yes, perhaps Basil, too, had his secret. -He would ask him and try. -"Basil," he said, coming over quite close and looking him straight -in the face, "we have each of us a secret. Let me know yours, -and I shall tell you mine. What was your reason for refusing -to exhibit my picture?" -The painter shuddered in spite of himself. "Dorian, if I told you, -you might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh -at me. I could not bear your doing either of those two things. -If you wish me never to look at your picture again, I am content. -I have always you to look at. If you wish the best work I have ever done -to be hidden from the world, I am satisfied. Your friendship is dearer -to me than any fame or reputation." -"No, Basil, you must tell me," insisted Dorian Gray. -"I think I have a right to know." His feeling of terror -had passed away, and curiosity had taken its place. -He was determined to find out Basil Hallward's mystery. -"Let us sit down, Dorian," said the painter, looking troubled. -"Let us sit down. And just answer me one question. -Have you noticed in the picture something curious?something that -probably at first did not strike you, but that revealed itself -to you suddenly?" -"Basil" cried the lad, clutching the arms of his chair with trembling -hands and gazing at him with wild startled eyes. -"I see you did. Don't speak. Wait till you hear what I have to say. -Dorian, from the moment I met you, your personality had the most -extraordinary influence over me. I was dominated, soul, brain, and power, -by you. You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen -ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. -I worshipped you. I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. -I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I -was with you. When you were away from me, you were still present -in my art.... Of course, I never let you know anything about this. -It would have been impossible. You would not have understood it. -I hardly understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection -face to face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes -too wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, -the peril of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them.... -Weeks and weeks went on, and I grew more and more absorbed in you. -Then came a new development. I had drawn you as Paris in -dainty armour, and as Adonis with huntsman's cloak and polished -boarspear. Crowned with heavy lotusblossoms you had sat on -the prow of Adrian's barge, gazing across the green turbid Nile. -You had leaned over the still pool of some Greek woodland and seen -in the water's silent silver the marvel of your own face. -And it had all been what art should beunconscious, ideal, and remote. -One day, a fatal day I sometimes think, I determined to paint -a wonderful portrait of you as you actually are, not in the costume -of dead ages, but in your own dress and in your own time. -Whether it was the realism of the method, or the mere wonder -of your own personality, thus directly presented to me without -mist or veil, I cannot tell. But I know that as I worked at it, -every flake and film of colour seemed to me to reveal my secret. -I grew afraid that others would know of my idolatry. I felt, Dorian, -that I had told too much, that I had put too much of myself into it. -Then it was that I resolved never to allow the picture to be exhibited. -You were a little annoyed but then you did not realize all that it -meant to me. Harry, to whom I talked about it, laughed at me. -But I did not mind that. When the picture was finished, and I sat -alone with it, I felt that I was right.... Well, after a few days -the thing left my studio, and as soon as I had got rid of the intolerable -fascination of its presence, it seemed to me that I had been foolish -in imagining that I had seen anything in it, more than that you -were extremely goodlooking and that I could paint. Even now I -cannot help feeling that it is a mistake to think that the passion -one feels in creation is ever really shown in the work one creates. -Art is always more abstract than we fancy. Form and colour tell -us of form and colourthat is all. It often seems to me that art -conceals the artist far more completely than it ever reveals him. -And so when I got this offer from Paris, I determined to make your -portrait the principal thing in my exhibition. It never occurred -to me that you would refuse. I see now that you were right. -The picture cannot be shown. You must not be angry with me, Dorian, -for what I have told you. As I said to Harry, once, you are made to be -worshipped." -Dorian Gray drew a long breath. The colour came back to his cheeks, -and a smile played about his lips. The peril was over. -He was safe for the time. Yet he could not help feeling -infinite pity for the painter who had just made this strange -confession to him, and wondered if he himself would ever -be so dominated by the personality of a friend. Lord Henry -had the charm of being very dangerous. But that was all. -He was too clever and too cynical to be really fond of. -Would there ever be some one who would fill him with a -strange idolatry? Was that one of the things that life had -in store? -"It is extraordinary to me, Dorian," said Hallward, "that you -should have seen this in the portrait. Did you really see it?" -"I saw something in it," he answered, "something that seemed -to me very curious." -"Well, you don't mind my looking at the thing now?" -Dorian shook his head. "You must not ask me that, Basil. -I could not possibly let you stand in front of that picture." -"You will some day, surely?" -"Never." -"Well, perhaps you are right. And now goodbye, Dorian. -You have been the one person in my life who has really influenced -my art. Whatever I have done that is good, I owe to you. -Ah you don't know what it cost me to tell you all that I have -told you." -"My dear Basil," said Dorian, "what have you told me? -Simply that you felt that you admired me too much. -That is not even a compliment." -"It was not intended as a compliment. It was a confession. -Now that I have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. -Perhaps one should never put one's worship into words." -"It was a very disappointing confession." -"Why, what did you expect, Dorian? You didn't see anything else -in the picture, did you? There was nothing else to see?" -"No there was nothing else to see. Why do you ask? -But you mustn't talk about worship. It is foolish. You and I -are friends, Basil, and we must always remain so." -"You have got Harry," said the painter sadly. -"Oh, Harry" cried the lad, with a ripple of laughter. "Harry spends -his days in saying what is incredible and his evenings in doing -what is improbable. Just the sort of life I would like to lead. -But still I don't think I would go to Harry if I were in trouble. -I would sooner go to you, Basil." -"You will sit to me again?" -"Impossible" -"You spoil my life as an artist by refusing, Dorian. No man -comes across two ideal things. Few come across one." -"I can't explain it to you, Basil, but I must never sit to you again. -There is something fatal about a portrait. It has a life of its own. -I will come and have tea with you. That will be just as pleasant." -"Pleasanter for you, I am afraid," murmured Hallward regretfully. -"And now goodbye. I am sorry you won't let me look at the picture -once again. But that can't be helped. I quite understand what you feel -about it." -As he left the room, Dorian Gray smiled to himself. Poor Basil -How little he knew of the true reason And how strange it -was that, instead of having been forced to reveal his own secret, -he had succeeded, almost by chance, in wresting a secret from -his friend How much that strange confession explained to him -The painter's absurd fits of jealousy, his wild devotion, -his extravagant panegyrics, his curious reticences -he understood them all now, and he felt sorry. There seemed -to him to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured -by romance. -He sighed and touched the bell. The portrait must be hidden away -at all costs. He could not run such a risk of discovery again. -It had been mad of him to have allowed the thing to remain, -even for an hour, in a room to which any of his friends -had access. -CHAPTER -When his servant entered, he looked at him steadfastly -and wondered if he had thought of peering behind the screen. -The man was quite impassive and waited for his orders. Dorian lit -a cigarette and walked over to the glass and glanced into it. -He could see the reflection of Victor's face perfectly. -It was like a placid mask of servility. There was nothing -to be afraid of, there. Yet he thought it best to be on -his guard. -Speaking very slowly, he told him to tell the housekeeper that he wanted -to see her, and then to go to the framemaker and ask him to send two of his -men round at once. It seemed to him that as the man left the room his eyes -wandered in the direction of the screen. Or was that merely his own fancy? -After a few moments, in her black silk dress, with oldfashioned thread -mittens on her wrinkled hands, Mrs. Leaf bustled into the library. -He asked her for the key of the schoolroom. -"The old schoolroom, Mr. Dorian?" she exclaimed. "Why, it is full of dust. -I must get it arranged and put straight before you go into it. It is not fit -for you to see, sir. It is not, indeed." -"I don't want it put straight, Leaf. I only want the key." -"Well, sir, you'll be covered with cobwebs if you go into it. Why, it hasn't -been opened for nearly five yearsnot since his lordship died." -He winced at the mention of his grandfather. He had hateful memories of him. -"That does not matter," he answered. "I simply want to see the place -that is all. Give me the key." -"And here is the key, sir," said the old lady, going over -the contents of her bunch with tremulously uncertain hands. -"Here is the key. I'll have it off the bunch in a moment. -But you don't think of living up there, sir, and you so -comfortable here?" -"No, no," he cried petulantly. "Thank you, Leaf. That will do." -She lingered for a few moments, and was garrulous over some detail -of the household. He sighed and told her to manage things as she -thought best. She left the room, wreathed in smiles. -As the door closed, Dorian put the key in his pocket and looked round -the room. His eye fell on a large, purple satin coverlet heavily -embroidered with gold, a splendid piece of late seventeenthcentury -Venetian work that his grandfather had found in a convent near Bologna. -Yes, that would serve to wrap the dreadful thing in. It had perhaps -served often as a pall for the dead. Now it was to hide something that -had a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death itself -something that would breed horrors and yet would never die. What the worm -was to the corpse, his sins would be to the painted image on the canvas. -They would mar its beauty and eat away its grace. They would defile -it and make it shameful. And yet the thing would still live on. -It would be always alive. -He shuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had not told -Basil the true reason why he had wished to hide the picture away. -Basil would have helped him to resist Lord Henry's influence, -and the still more poisonous influences that came from his -own temperament. The love that he bore himfor it was really love -had nothing in it that was not noble and intellectual. -It was not that mere physical admiration of beauty that is born -of the senses and that dies when the senses tire. It was such -love as Michelangelo had known, and Montaigne, and Winckelmann, -and Shakespeare himself. Yes, Basil could have saved him. -But it was too late now. The past could always be annihilated. -Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future -was inevitable. There were passions in him that would find -their terrible outlet, dreams that would make the shadow of their -evil real. -He took up from the couch the great purpleandgold texture that -covered it, and, holding it in his hands, passed behind the screen. -Was the face on the canvas viler than before? It seemed to him -that it was unchanged, and yet his loathing of it was intensified. -Gold hair, blue eyes, and rosered lipsthey all were there. -It was simply the expression that had altered. That was horrible -in its cruelty. Compared to what he saw in it of censure or rebuke, -how shallow Basil's reproaches about Sibyl Vane had been -how shallow, and of what little account His own soul was looking -out at him from the canvas and calling him to judgement. A look -of pain came across him, and he flung the rich pall over the picture. -As he did so, a knock came to the door. He passed out as his -servant entered. -"The persons are here, Monsieur." -He felt that the man must be got rid of at once. He must -not be allowed to know where the picture was being taken to. -There was something sly about him, and he had thoughtful, -treacherous eyes. Sitting down at the writingtable he scribbled -a note to Lord Henry, asking him to send him round something -to read and reminding him that they were to meet at eightfifteen -that evening. -"Wait for an answer," he said, handing it to him, "and show the men in here." -In two or three minutes there was another knock, and Mr. Hubbard himself, -the celebrated framemaker of South Audley Street, came in with a -somewhat roughlooking young assistant. Mr. Hubbard was a florid, -redwhiskered little man, whose admiration for art was considerably tempered -by the inveterate impecuniosity of most of the artists who dealt with him. -As a rule, he never left his shop. He waited for people to come to him. -But he always made an exception in favour of Dorian Gray. There was -something about Dorian that charmed everybody. It was a pleasure even to -see him. -"What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?" he said, rubbing his fat freckled hands. -"I thought I would do myself the honour of coming round in person. I have -just got a beauty of a frame, sir. Picked it up at a sale. Old Florentine. -Came from Fonthill, I believe. Admirably suited for a religious subject, -Mr. Gray." -"I am so sorry you have given yourself the trouble of coming round, -Mr. Hubbard. I shall certainly drop in and look at the frame -though I don't go in much at present for religious artbut today -I only want a picture carried to the top of the house for me. -It is rather heavy, so I thought I would ask you to lend me a couple of -your men." -"No trouble at all, Mr. Gray. I am delighted to be of any service to you. -Which is the work of art, sir?" -"This," replied Dorian, moving the screen back. "Can you move it, -covering and all, just as it is? I don't want it to get scratched -going upstairs." -"There will be no difficulty, sir," said the genial framemaker, beginning, -with the aid of his assistant, to unhook the picture from the long brass -chains by which it was suspended. "And, now, where shall we carry it to, -Mr. Gray?" -"I will show you the way, Mr. Hubbard, if you will kindly follow me. -Or perhaps you had better go in front. I am afraid it is right at -the top of the house. We will go up by the front staircase, as it -is wider." -He held the door open for them, and they passed out into the hall and began -the ascent. The elaborate character of the frame had made the picture -extremely bulky, and now and then, in spite of the obsequious protests -of Mr. Hubbard, who had the true tradesman's spirited dislike of seeing a -gentleman doing anything useful, Dorian put his hand to it so as to help them. -"Something of a load to carry, sir," gasped the little man when they -reached the top landing. And he wiped his shiny forehead. -"I am afraid it is rather heavy," murmured Dorian as he unlocked the door -that opened into the room that was to keep for him the curious secret of his -life and hide his soul from the eyes of men. -He had not entered the place for more than four yearsnot, indeed, -since he had used it first as a playroom when he was a child, -and then as a study when he grew somewhat older. It was a large, -wellproportioned room, which had been specially built by the last -Lord Kelso for the use of the little grandson whom, for his strange -likeness to his mother, and also for other reasons, he had always -hated and desired to keep at a distance. It appeared to Dorian -to have but little changed. There was the huge Italian cassone, -with its fantastically painted panels and its tarnished -gilt mouldings, in which he had so often hidden himself as a boy. -There the satinwood bookcase filled with his dogeared schoolbooks. -On the wall behind it was hanging the same ragged Flemish tapestry -where a faded king and queen were playing chess in a garden, -while a company of hawkers rode by, carrying hooded birds on their -gauntleted wrists. How well he remembered it all Every moment -of his lonely childhood came back to him as he looked round. -He recalled the stainless purity of his boyish life, and it seemed horrible -to him that it was here the fatal portrait was to be hidden away. -How little he had thought, in those dead days, of all that was in store -for him -But there was no other place in the house so secure from prying eyes as this. -He had the key, and no one else could enter it. Beneath its purple pall, -the face painted on the canvas could grow bestial, sodden, and unclean. -What did it matter? No one could see it. He himself would not see it. -Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul? He kept his youth -that was enough. And, besides, might not his nature grow finer, after all? -There was no reason that the future should be so full of shame. -Some love might come across his life, and purify him, and shield him -from those sins that seemed to be already stirring in spirit and in flesh -those curious unpictured sins whose very mystery lent them their subtlety and -their charm. Perhaps, some day, the cruel look would have passed away from -the scarlet sensitive mouth, and he might show to the world Basil Hallward's -masterpiece. -No that was impossible. Hour by hour, and week by week, the thing -upon the canvas was growing old. It might escape the hideousness -of sin, but the hideousness of age was in store for it. -The cheeks would become hollow or flaccid. Yellow crow's feet -would creep round the fading eyes and make them horrible. -The hair would lose its brightness, the mouth would gape or droop, -would be foolish or gross, as the mouths of old men are. -There would be the wrinkled throat, the cold, blueveined hands, -the twisted body, that he remembered in the grandfather who had been -so stern to him in his boyhood. The picture had to be concealed. -There was no help for it. -"Bring it in, Mr. Hubbard, please," he said, wearily, turning round. -"I am sorry I kept you so long. I was thinking of something else." -"Always glad to have a rest, Mr. Gray," answered the framemaker, -who was still gasping for breath. "Where shall we put it, sir?" -"Oh, anywhere. Here this will do. I don't want to have it hung up. -Just lean it against the wall. Thanks." -"Might one look at the work of art, sir?" -Dorian started. "It would not interest you, Mr. Hubbard," -he said, keeping his eye on the man. He felt ready to leap -upon him and fling him to the ground if he dared to lift -the gorgeous hanging that concealed the secret of his life. -"I shan't trouble you any more now. I am much obliged for your -kindness in coming round." -"Not at all, not at all, Mr. Gray. Ever ready to do anything for you, sir." -And Mr. Hubbard tramped downstairs, followed by the assistant, who glanced -back at Dorian with a look of shy wonder in his rough uncomely face. -He had never seen any one so marvellous. -When the sound of their footsteps had died away, Dorian locked -the door and put the key in his pocket. He felt safe now. -No one would ever look upon the horrible thing. No eye but his -would ever see his shame. -On reaching the library, he found that it was just after -five o'clock and that the tea had been already brought up. -On a little table of dark perfumed wood thickly incrusted with nacre, -a present from Lady Radley, his guardian's wife, a pretty -professional invalid who had spent the preceding winter in Cairo, -was lying a note from Lord Henry, and beside it was a book bound -in yellow paper, the cover slightly torn and the edges soiled. -A copy of the third edition of The St. James's Gazette had been -placed on the teatray. It was evident that Victor had returned. -He wondered if he had met the men in the hall as they were leaving -the house and had wormed out of them what they had been doing. -He would be sure to miss the picturehad no doubt missed -it already, while he had been laying the teathings. The screen -had not been set back, and a blank space was visible on the wall. -Perhaps some night he might find him creeping upstairs and trying -to force the door of the room. It was a horrible thing to have -a spy in one's house. He had heard of rich men who had been -blackmailed all their lives by some servant who had read a letter, -or overheard a conversation, or picked up a card with an address, -or found beneath a pillow a withered flower or a shred of -crumpled lace. -He sighed, and having poured himself out some tea, opened Lord Henry's note. -It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book -that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eightfifteen. He -opened The St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencilmark on -the fifth page caught his eye. It drew attention to the following paragraph -INQUEST ON AN ACTRESS.An inquest was held this morning at the Bell Tavern, -Hoxton Road, by Mr. Danby, the District Coroner, on the body of Sibyl Vane, -a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theatre, Holborn. A verdict -of death by misadventure was returned. Considerable sympathy was expressed -for the mother of the deceased, who was greatly affected during the giving -of her own evidence, and that of Dr. Birrell, who had made the postmortem -examination of the deceased. -He frowned, and tearing the paper in two, went across -the room and flung the pieces away. How ugly it all was -And how horribly real ugliness made things He felt a little -annoyed with Lord Henry for having sent him the report. -And it was certainly stupid of him to have marked it with red pencil. -Victor might have read it. The man knew more than enough English -for that. -Perhaps he had read it and had begun to suspect something. -And, yet, what did it matter? What had Dorian Gray to do -with Sibyl Vane's death? There was nothing to fear. -Dorian Gray had not killed her. -His eye fell on the yellow book that Lord Henry had sent him. -What was it, he wondered. He went towards the little, -pearlcoloured octagonal stand that had always looked to him -like the work of some strange Egyptian bees that wrought in silver, -and taking up the volume, flung himself into an armchair and began -to turn over the leaves. After a few minutes he became absorbed. -It was the strangest book that he had ever read. It seemed to him -that in exquisite raiment, and to the delicate sound of flutes, -the sins of the world were passing in dumb show before him. -Things that he had dimly dreamed of were suddenly made -real to him. Things of which he had never dreamed were -gradually revealed. -It was a novel without a plot and with only one character, being, indeed, -simply a psychological study of a certain young Parisian who spent his life -trying to realize in the nineteenth century all the passions and modes -of thought that belonged to every century except his own, and to sum up, -as it were, in himself the various moods through which the worldspirit had -ever passed, loving for their mere artificiality those renunciations that men -have unwisely called virtue, as much as those natural rebellions that wise -men still call sin. The style in which it was written was that curious -jewelled style, vivid and obscure at once, full of argot and of archaisms, -of technical expressions and of elaborate paraphrases, that characterizes -the work of some of the finest artists of the French school of Symbolistes. -There were in it metaphors as monstrous as orchids and as subtle in colour. -The life of the senses was described in the terms of mystical philosophy. -One hardly knew at times whether one was reading the spiritual ecstasies -of some mediaeval saint or the morbid confessions of a modern sinner. -It was a poisonous book. The heavy odour of incense seemed to cling about its -pages and to trouble the brain. The mere cadence of the sentences, the subtle -monotony of their music, so full as it was of complex refrains and movements -elaborately repeated, produced in the mind of the lad, as he passed from -chapter to chapter, a form of reverie, a malady of dreaming, that made him -unconscious of the falling day and creeping shadows. -Cloudless, and pierced by one solitary star, a coppergreen -sky gleamed through the windows. He read on by its wan light -till he could read no more. Then, after his valet had reminded -him several times of the lateness of the hour, he got up, -and going into the next room, placed the book on the little -Florentine table that always stood at his bedside and began -to dress for dinner. -It was almost nine o'clock before he reached the club, where he found -Lord Henry sitting alone, in the morningroom, looking very much bored. -"I am so sorry, Harry," he cried, "but really it is entirely your fault. -That book you sent me so fascinated me that I forgot how the time -was going." -"Yes, I thought you would like it," replied his host, rising from his chair. -"I didn't say I liked it, Harry. I said it fascinated me. -There is a great difference." -"Ah, you have discovered that?" murmured Lord Henry. -And they passed into the diningroom. -CHAPTER -For years, Dorian Gray could not free himself from the influence -of this book. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say -that he never sought to free himself from it. He procured from -Paris no less than nine largepaper copies of the first edition, -and had them bound in different colours, so that they might suit -his various moods and the changing fancies of a nature over -which he seemed, at times, to have almost entirely lost control. -The hero, the wonderful young Parisian in whom the romantic -and the scientific temperaments were so strangely blended, -became to him a kind of prefiguring type of himself. -And, indeed, the whole book seemed to him to contain the story -of his own life, written before he had lived it. -In one point he was more fortunate than the novel's fantastic hero. -He never knewnever, indeed, had any cause to knowthat somewhat -grotesque dread of mirrors, and polished metal surfaces, and still -water which came upon the young Parisian so early in his life, -and was occasioned by the sudden decay of a beau that had once, -apparently, been so remarkable. It was with an almost cruel joy -and perhaps in nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, -cruelty has its placethat he used to read the latter part of the book, -with its really tragic, if somewhat overemphasized, account of the sorrow -and despair of one who had himself lost what in others, and the world, -he had most dearly valued. -For the wonderful beauty that had so fascinated Basil Hallward, -and many others besides him, seemed never to leave him. -Even those who had heard the most evil things against him -and from time to time strange rumours about his mode of life -crept through London and became the chatter of the clubs -could not believe anything to his dishonour when they saw him. -He had always the look of one who had kept himself unspotted -from the world. Men who talked grossly became silent when Dorian -Gray entered the room. There was something in the purity of his -face that rebuked them. His mere presence seemed to recall -to them the memory of the innocence that they had tarnished. -They wondered how one so charming and graceful as he was could -have escaped the stain of an age that was at once sordid -and sensual. -Often, on returning home from one of those mysterious and -prolonged absences that gave rise to such strange conjecture -among those who were his friends, or thought that they were so, -he himself would creep upstairs to the locked room, open the door -with the key that never left him now, and stand, with a mirror, -in front of the portrait that Basil Hallward had painted of him, -looking now at the evil and aging face on the canvas, and now at -the fair young face that laughed back at him from the polished glass. -The very sharpness of the contrast used to quicken his sense -of pleasure. He grew more and more enamoured of his own beauty, -more and more interested in the corruption of his own soul. -He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous -and terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling -forehead or crawled around the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes -which were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age. -He would place his white hands beside the coarse bloated hands -of the picture, and smile. He mocked the misshapen body and the -failing limbs. -There were moments, indeed, at night, when, lying sleepless -in his own delicately scented chamber, or in the sordid -room of the little illfamed tavern near the docks which, -under an assumed name and in disguise, it was his habit -to frequent, he would think of the ruin he had brought upon -his soul with a pity that was all the more poignant because it -was purely selfish. But moments such as these were rare. -That curiosity about life which Lord Henry had first stirred -in him, as they sat together in the garden of their friend, -seemed to increase with gratification. The more he knew, -the more he desired to know. He had mad hungers that grew more -ravenous as he fed them. -Yet he was not really reckless, at any rate in his relations to society. -Once or twice every month during the winter, and on each Wednesday -evening while the season lasted, he would throw open to the world -his beautiful house and have the most celebrated musicians of the day -to charm his guests with the wonders of their art. His little dinners, -in the settling of which Lord Henry always assisted him, were noted -as much for the careful selection and placing of those invited, -as for the exquisite taste shown in the decoration of the table, -with its subtle symphonic arrangements of exotic flowers, -and embroidered cloths, and antique plate of gold and silver. -Indeed, there were many, especially among the very young men, who saw, -or fancied that they saw, in Dorian Gray the true realization -of a type of which they had often dreamed in Eton or Oxford days, -a type that was to combine something of the real culture of the scholar -with all the grace and distinction and perfect manner of a citizen -of the world. To them he seemed to be of the company of those whom -Dante describes as having sought to "make themselves perfect -by the worship of beauty." Like Gautier, he was one for whom "the -visible world existed." -And, certainly, to him life itself was the first, the greatest, -of the arts, and for it all the other arts seemed to be but -a preparation. Fashion, by which what is really fantastic -becomes for a moment universal, and dandyism, which, in its -own way, is an attempt to assert the absolute modernity -of beauty, had, of course, their fascination for him. -His mode of dressing, and the particular styles that from time -to time he affected, had their marked influence on the young -exquisites of the Mayfair balls and Pall Mall club windows, -who copied him in everything that he did, and tried to reproduce -the accidental charm of his graceful, though to him only -halfserious, fopperies. -For, while he was but too ready to accept the position that -was almost immediately offered to him on his coming of age, -and found, indeed, a subtle pleasure in the thought that he might -really become to the London of his own day what to imperial -Neronian Rome the author of the Satyricon once had been, -yet in his inmost heart he desired to be something more than a mere -arbiter elegantiarum, to be consulted on the wearing of a jewel, -or the knotting of a necktie, or the conduct of a cane. -He sought to elaborate some new scheme of life that would have -its reasoned philosophy and its ordered principles, and find -in the spiritualizing of the senses its highest realization. -The worship of the senses has often, and with much justice, -been decried, men feeling a natural instinct of terror about -passions and sensations that seem stronger than themselves, -and that they are conscious of sharing with the less highly -organized forms of existence. But it appeared to Dorian Gray -that the true nature of the senses had never been understood, -and that they had remained savage and animal merely because -the world had sought to starve them into submission or to kill -them by pain, instead of aiming at making them elements -of a new spirituality, of which a fine instinct for beauty was -to be the dominant characteristic. As he looked back upon man -moving through history, he was haunted by a feeling of loss. -So much had been surrendered and to such little purpose -There had been mad wilful rejections, monstrous forms -of selftorture and selfdenial, whose origin was fear -and whose result was a degradation infinitely more terrible -than that fancied degradation from which, in their ignorance, -they had sought to escape Nature, in her wonderful irony, -driving out the anchorite to feed with the wild animals of -the desert and giving to the hermit the beasts of the field as -his companions. -Yes there was to be, as Lord Henry had prophesied, a new Hedonism -that was to recreate life and to save it from that harsh uncomely -puritanism that is having, in our own day, its curious revival. -It was to have its service of the intellect, certainly, yet it was -never to accept any theory or system that would involve the sacrifice -of any mode of passionate experience. Its aim, indeed, was to be -experience itself, and not the fruits of experience, sweet or bitter -as they might be. Of the asceticism that deadens the senses, -as of the vulgar profligacy that dulls them, it was to know nothing. -But it was to teach man to concentrate himself upon the moments of a life -that is itself but a moment. -There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, -either after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost -enamoured of death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, -when through the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible -than reality itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks -in all grotesques, and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, -this art being, one might fancy, especially the art of those whose -minds have been troubled with the malady of reverie. Gradually white -fingers creep through the curtains, and they appear to tremble. -In black fantastic shapes, dumb shadows crawl into the corners -of the room and crouch there. Outside, there is the stirring -of birds among the leaves, or the sound of men going forth -to their work, or the sigh and sob of the wind coming down from -the hills and wandering round the silent house, as though it feared -to wake the sleepers and yet must needs call forth sleep from -her purple cave. Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, -and by degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, -and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. -The wan mirrors get back their mimic life. The flameless tapers -stand where we had left them, and beside them lies the halfcut book -that we had been studying, or the wired flower that we had worn at -the ball, or the letter that we had been afraid to read, or that we -had read too often. Nothing seems to us changed. Out of the unreal -shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. -We have to resume it where we had left off, and there steals over us -a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy -in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, -it may be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world -that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, -a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colours, -and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past -would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, -in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance -even of joy having its bitterness and the memories of pleasure -their pain. -It was the creation of such worlds as these that seemed to Dorian -Gray to be the true object, or amongst the true objects, of life -and in his search for sensations that would be at once new and delightful, -and possess that element of strangeness that is so essential to romance, -he would often adopt certain modes of thought that he knew to be really -alien to his nature, abandon himself to their subtle influences, -and then, having, as it were, caught their colour and satisfied his -intellectual curiosity, leave them with that curious indifference -that is not incompatible with a real ardour of temperament, and that, -indeed, according to certain modern psychologists, is often a condition -of it. -It was rumoured of him once that he was about to join the Roman -Catholic communion, and certainly the Roman ritual had always -a great attraction for him. The daily sacrifice, more awful -really than all the sacrifices of the antique world, stirred him -as much by its superb rejection of the evidence of the senses -as by the primitive simplicity of its elements and the eternal -pathos of the human tragedy that it sought to symbolize. He loved -to kneel down on the cold marble pavement and watch the priest, -in his stiff flowered dalmatic, slowly and with white hands moving -aside the veil of the tabernacle, or raising aloft the jewelled, -lanternshaped monstrance with that pallid wafer that at times, -one would fain think, is indeed the "panis caelestis," the bread -of angels, or, robed in the garments of the Passion of Christ, -breaking the Host into the chalice and smiting his breast for his sins. -The fuming censers that the grave boys, in their lace and scarlet, -tossed into the air like great gilt flowers had their subtle -fascination for him. As he passed out, he used to look with wonder -at the black confessionals and long to sit in the dim shadow of one -of them and listen to men and women whispering through the worn -grating the true story of their lives. -But he never fell into the error of arresting his intellectual development -by any formal acceptance of creed or system, or of mistaking, for a house -in which to live, an inn that is but suitable for the sojourn of a night, -or for a few hours of a night in which there are no stars and the moon is -in travail. Mysticism, with its marvellous power of making common things -strange to us, and the subtle antinomianism that always seems to accompany it, -moved him for a season and for a season he inclined to the materialistic -doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany, and found a curious pleasure -in tracing the thoughts and passions of men to some pearly cell in the brain, -or some white nerve in the body, delighting in the conception of the absolute -dependence of the spirit on certain physical conditions, morbid or healthy, -normal or diseased. Yet, as has been said of him before, no theory of life -seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself. He felt -keenly conscious of how barren all intellectual speculation is when separated -from action and experiment. He knew that the senses, no less than the soul, -have their spiritual mysteries to reveal. -And so he would now study perfumes and the secrets of their manufacture, -distilling heavily scented oils and burning odorous gums from the East. -He saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not its counterpart -in the sensuous life, and set himself to discover their true relations, -wondering what there was in frankincense that made one mystical, -and in ambergris that stirred one's passions, and in violets that woke -the memory of dead romances, and in musk that troubled the brain, -and in champak that stained the imagination and seeking often to elaborate -a real psychology of perfumes, and to estimate the several influences -of sweetsmelling roots and scented, pollenladen flowers of aromatic balms -and of dark and fragrant woods of spikenard, that sickens of hovenia, -that makes men mad and of aloes, that are said to be able to expel melancholy -from the soul. -At another time he devoted himself entirely to music, and in a long -latticed room, with a vermilionandgold ceiling and walls of olivegreen -lacquer, he used to give curious concerts in which mad gipsies tore wild -music from little zithers, or grave, yellowshawled Tunisians plucked -at the strained strings of monstrous lutes, while grinning Negroes -beat monotonously upon copper drums and, crouching upon scarlet mats, -slim turbaned Indians blew through long pipes of reed or brass and charmed -or feigned to charmgreat hooded snakes and horrible horned adders. -The harsh intervals and shrill discords of barbaric music stirred -him at times when Schubert's grace, and Chopin's beautiful sorrows, -and the mighty harmonies of Beethoven himself, fell unheeded on his ear. -He collected together from all parts of the world the strangest instruments -that could be found, either in the tombs of dead nations or among the few -savage tribes that have survived contact with Western civilizations, -and loved to touch and try them. He had the mysterious juruparis of the Rio -Negro Indians, that women are not allowed to look at and that even youths -may not see till they have been subjected to fasting and scourging, -and the earthen jars of the Peruvians that have the shrill cries of birds, -and flutes of human bones such as Alfonso de Ovalle heard in Chile, -and the sonorous green jaspers that are found near Cuzco and give forth -a note of singular sweetness. He had painted gourds filled with pebbles -that rattled when they were shaken the long clarin of the Mexicans, -into which the performer does not blow, but through which he inhales -the air the harsh ture of the Amazon tribes, that is sounded by -the sentinels who sit all day long in high trees, and can be heard, -it is said, at a distance of three leagues the teponaztli, that has -two vibrating tongues of wood and is beaten with sticks that are -smeared with an elastic gum obtained from the milky juice of plants -the yotlbells of the Aztecs, that are hung in clusters like grapes -and a huge cylindrical drum, covered with the skins of great serpents, -like the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican -temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a description. -The fantastic character of these instruments fascinated him, and he felt -a curious delight in the thought that art, like Nature, has her monsters, -things of bestial shape and with hideous voices. Yet, after some time, -he wearied of them, and would sit in his box at the opera, either alone -or with Lord Henry, listening in rapt pleasure to "Tannhauser" and seeing -in the prelude to that great work of art a presentation of the tragedy of -his own soul. -On one occasion he took up the study of jewels, and appeared -at a costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, -in a dress covered with five hundred and sixty pearls. -This taste enthralled him for years, and, indeed, may be said -never to have left him. He would often spend a whole day -settling and resettling in their cases the various stones that he -had collected, such as the olivegreen chrysoberyl that turns red -by lamplight, the cymophane with its wirelike line of silver, -the pistachiocoloured peridot, rosepink and wineyellow topazes, -carbuncles of fiery scarlet with tremulous, fourrayed stars, -flamered cinnamonstones, orange and violet spinels, -and amethysts with their alternate layers of ruby and sapphire. -He loved the red gold of the sunstone, and the moonstone's -pearly whiteness, and the broken rainbow of the milky opal. -He procured from Amsterdam three emeralds of extraordinary size and -richness of colour, and had a turquoise de la vieille roche that was -the envy of all the connoisseurs. -He discovered wonderful stories, also, about jewels. -In Alphonso's Clericalis Disciplina a serpent was mentioned with -eyes of real jacinth, and in the romantic history of Alexander, -the Conqueror of Emathia was said to have found in the vale of Jordan -snakes "with collars of real emeralds growing on their backs." -There was a gem in the brain of the dragon, Philostratus told us, -and "by the exhibition of golden letters and a scarlet robe" -the monster could be thrown into a magical sleep and slain. -According to the great alchemist, Pierre de Boniface, the diamond -rendered a man invisible, and the agate of India made him eloquent. -The cornelian appeased anger, and the hyacinth provoked sleep, -and the amethyst drove away the fumes of wine. The garnet cast -out demons, and the hydropicus deprived the moon of her colour. -The selenite waxed and waned with the moon, and the meloceus, -that discovers thieves, could be affected only by the blood of kids. -Leonardus Camillus had seen a white stone taken from the brain of a newly -killed toad, that was a certain antidote against poison. The bezoar, -that was found in the heart of the Arabian deer, was a charm that could -cure the plague. In the nests of Arabian birds was the aspilates, -that, according to Democritus, kept the wearer from any danger -by fire. -The King of Ceilan rode through his city with a large ruby in his hand, -as the ceremony of his coronation. The gates of the palace of John -the Priest were "made of sardius, with the horn of the horned -snake inwrought, so that no man might bring poison within." -Over the gable were "two golden apples, in which were two carbuncles," -so that the gold might shine by day and the carbuncles by night. -In Lodge's strange romance 'A Margarite of America', it was stated -that in the chamber of the queen one could behold "all the chaste -ladies of the world, inchased out of silver, looking through fair -mirrours of chrysolites, carbuncles, sapphires, and greene emeraults." -Marco Polo had seen the inhabitants of Zipangu place rosecoloured -pearls in the mouths of the dead. A seamonster had been -enamoured of the pearl that the diver brought to King Perozes, -and had slain the thief, and mourned for seven moons over its loss. -When the Huns lured the king into the great pit, he flung it away -Procopius tells the storynor was it ever found again, -though the Emperor Anastasius offered five hundredweight of gold -pieces for it. The King of Malabar had shown to a certain Venetian -a rosary of three hundred and four pearls, one for every god that -he worshipped. -When the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI, visited Louis XII -of France, his horse was loaded with gold leaves, according to Brantome, -and his cap had double rows of rubies that threw out a great light. -Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and -twentyone diamonds. Richard II had a coat, valued at thirty thousand marks, -which was covered with balas rubies. Hall described Henry VIII, -on his way to the Tower previous to his coronation, as wearing "a -jacket of raised gold, the placard embroidered with diamonds and other -rich stones, and a great bauderike about his neck of large balasses." -The favourites of James I wore earrings of emeralds set in gold filigrane. -Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of redgold armour studded -with jacinths, a collar of gold roses set with turquoisestones, and a -skullcap parseme with pearls. Henry II wore jewelled gloves reaching -to the elbow, and had a hawkglove sewn with twelve rubies and fiftytwo -great orients. The ducal hat of Charles the Rash, the last Duke -of Burgundy of his race, was hung with pearshaped pearls and studded -with sapphires. -How exquisite life had once been How gorgeous in its pomp and decoration -Even to read of the luxury of the dead was wonderful. -Then he turned his attention to embroideries and to the tapestries -that performed the office of frescoes in the chill rooms of -the northern nations of Europe. As he investigated the subject -and he always had an extraordinary faculty of becoming absolutely -absorbed for the moment in whatever he took uphe was almost -saddened by the reflection of the ruin that time brought on -beautiful and wonderful things. He, at any rate, had escaped that. -Summer followed summer, and the yellow jonquils bloomed and died -many times, and nights of horror repeated the story of their shame, -but he was unchanged. No winter marred his face or stained his -flowerlike bloom. How different it was with material things -Where had they passed to? Where was the great crocuscoloured robe, -on which the gods fought against the giants, that had been worked -by brown girls for the pleasure of Athena? Where the huge -velarium that Nero had stretched across the Colosseum at Rome, -that Titan sail of purple on which was represented the starry sky, -and Apollo driving a chariot drawn by white, giltreined steeds? -He longed to see the curious tablenapkins wrought for the Priest -of the Sun, on which were displayed all the dainties and viands that -could be wanted for a feast the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic, -with its three hundred golden bees the fantastic robes that excited -the indignation of the Bishop of Pontus and were figured with -"lions, panthers, bears, dogs, forests, rocks, huntersall, in fact, -that a painter can copy from nature" and the coat that Charles -of Orleans once wore, on the sleeves of which were embroidered -the verses of a song beginning "Madame, je suis tout joyeux," -the musical accompaniment of the words being wrought in gold thread, -and each note, of square shape in those days, formed with four pearls. -He read of the room that was prepared at the palace at Rheims for -the use of Queen Joan of Burgundy and was decorated with "thirteen -hundred and twentyone parrots, made in broidery, and blazoned -with the king's arms, and five hundred and sixtyone butterflies, -whose wings were similarly ornamented with the arms of the queen, -the whole worked in gold." Catherine de Medicis had a mourningbed -made for her of black velvet powdered with crescents and suns. -Its curtains were of damask, with leafy wreaths and garlands, -figured upon a gold and silver ground, and fringed along the edges -with broideries of pearls, and it stood in a room hung with rows -of the queen's devices in cut black velvet upon cloth of silver. -Louis XIV had gold embroidered caryatides fifteen feet high -in his apartment. The state bed of Sobieski, King of Poland, -was made of Smyrna gold brocade embroidered in turquoises with verses -from the Koran. Its supports were of silver gilt, beautifully chased, -and profusely set with enamelled and jewelled medallions. -It had been taken from the Turkish camp before Vienna, and the -standard of Mohammed had stood beneath the tremulous gilt of its -canopy. -And so, for a whole year, he sought to accumulate the most exquisite -specimens that he could find of textile and embroidered work, -getting the dainty Delhi muslins, finely wrought with goldthread palmates -and stitched over with iridescent beetles' wings the Dacca gauzes, -that from their transparency are known in the East as "woven air," -and "running water," and "evening dew" strange figured cloths from Java -elaborate yellow Chinese hangings books bound in tawny satins or fair blue -silks and wrought with fleursdelis, birds and images veils of lacis -worked in Hungary point Sicilian brocades and stiff Spanish velvets -Georgian work, with its gilt coins, and Japanese Foukousas, with their -greentoned golds and their marvellously plumaged birds. -He had a special passion, also, for ecclesiastical vestments, -as indeed he had for everything connected with the service -of the Church. In the long cedar chests that lined the west -gallery of his house, he had stored away many rare and beautiful -specimens of what is really the raiment of the Bride of Christ, -who must wear purple and jewels and fine linen that she may -hide the pallid macerated body that is worn by the suffering -that she seeks for and wounded by selfinflicted pain. -He possessed a gorgeous cope of crimson silk and goldthread damask, -figured with a repeating pattern of golden pomegranates set -in sixpetalled formal blossoms, beyond which on either side -was the pineapple device wrought in seedpearls. The orphreys -were divided into panels representing scenes from the life -of the Virgin, and the coronation of the Virgin was figured -in coloured silks upon the hood. This was Italian work -of the fifteenth century. Another cope was of green velvet, -embroidered with heartshaped groups of acanthusleaves, from -which spread longstemmed white blossoms, the details of which -were picked out with silver thread and coloured crystals. -The morse bore a seraph's head in goldthread raised work. -The orphreys were woven in a diaper of red and gold silk, -and were starred with medallions of many saints and martyrs, -among whom was St. Sebastian. He had chasubles, also, -of ambercoloured silk, and blue silk and gold brocade, -and yellow silk damask and cloth of gold, figured with -representations of the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ, -and embroidered with lions and peacocks and other emblems -dalmatics of white satin and pink silk damask, decorated with -tulips and dolphins and fleursdelis altar frontals -of crimson velvet and blue linen and many corporals, -chaliceveils, and sudaria. In the mystic offices to which -such things were put, there was something that quickened -his imagination. -For these treasures, and everything that he collected in his lovely house, -were to be to him means of forgetfulness, modes by which he could escape, -for a season, from the fear that seemed to him at times to be almost too -great to be borne. Upon the walls of the lonely locked room where he had -spent so much of his boyhood, he had hung with his own hands the terrible -portrait whose changing features showed him the real degradation of his life, -and in front of it had draped the purpleandgold pall as a curtain. -For weeks he would not go there, would forget the hideous painted thing, -and get back his light heart, his wonderful joyousness, his passionate -absorption in mere existence. Then, suddenly, some night he would creep -out of the house, go down to dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields, -and stay there, day after day, until he was driven away. On his return -he would sit in front of the her times, with that pride of individualism -that is half the fascination of sin, and smiling with secret pleasure -at the misshapen shadow that had to bear the burden that should have been -his own. -After a few years he could not endure to be long out of England, -and gave up the villa that he had shared at Trouville with Lord Henry, -as well as the little white walledin house at Algiers where they -had more than once spent the winter. He hated to be separated from -the picture that was such a part of his life, and was also afraid -that during his absence some one might gain access to the room, -in spite of the elaborate bars that he had caused to be placed upon -the door. -He was quite conscious that this would tell them nothing. -It was true that the portrait still preserved, under all -the foulness and ugliness of the face, its marked likeness -to himself but what could they learn from that? He would laugh -at any one who tried to taunt him. He had not painted it. -What was it to him how vile and full of shame it looked? -Even if he told them, would they believe it? -Yet he was afraid. Sometimes when he was down at his great house -in Nottinghamshire, entertaining the fashionable young men of his -own rank who were his chief companions, and astounding the county -by the wanton luxury and gorgeous splendour of his mode of life, -he would suddenly leave his guests and rush back to town to see -that the door had not been tampered with and that the picture was -still there. What if it should be stolen? The mere thought made -him cold with horror. Surely the world would know his secret then. -Perhaps the world already suspected it. -For, while he fascinated many, there were not a few who distrusted him. -He was very nearly blackballed at a West End club of which his birth -and social position fully entitled him to become a member, and it -was said that on one occasion, when he was brought by a friend into -the smokingroom of the Churchill, the Duke of Berwick and another -gentleman got up in a marked manner and went out. Curious stories -became current about him after he had passed his twentyfifth year. -It was rumoured that he had been seen brawling with foreign sailors -in a low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel, and that he consorted -with thieves and coiners and knew the mysteries of their trade. -His extraordinary absences became notorious, and, when he used to reappear -again in society, men would whisper to each other in corners, or pass him -with a sneer, or look at him with cold searching eyes, as though they -were determined to discover his secret. -Of such insolences and attempted slights he, of course, -took no notice, and in the opinion of most people his frank -debonair manner, his charming boyish smile, and the infinite -grace of that wonderful youth that seemed never to leave him, -were in themselves a sufficient answer to the calumnies, -for so they termed them, that were circulated about him. -It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been -most intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. -Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved -all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen -to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered -the room. -Yet these whispered scandals only increased in the eyes of many -his strange and dangerous charm. His great wealth was a certain -element of security. Societycivilized society, at least -is never very ready to believe anything to the detriment of those -who are both rich and fascinating. It feels instinctively that -manners are of more importance than morals, and, in its opinion, -the highest respectability is of much less value than the possession -of a good chef. And, after all, it is a very poor consolation -to be told that the man who has given one a bad dinner, -or poor wine, is irreproachable in his private life. -Even the cardinal virtues cannot atone for halfcold entrees, -as Lord Henry remarked once, in a discussion on the subject, -and there is possibly a good deal to be said for his view. -For the canons of good society are, or should be, the same -as the canons of art. Form is absolutely essential to it. -It should have the dignity of a ceremony, as well as -its unreality, and should combine the insincere character -of a romantic play with the wit and beauty that make such plays -delightful to us. Is insincerity such a terrible thing? -I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply -our personalities. -Such, at any rate, was Dorian Gray's opinion. He used to wonder -at the shallow psychology of those who conceive the ego in man -as a thing simple, permanent, reliable, and of one essence. -To him, man was a being with myriad lives and myriad sensations, -a complex multiform creature that bore within itself strange -legacies of thought and passion, and whose very flesh was tainted -with the monstrous maladies of the dead. He loved to stroll -through the gaunt cold picturegallery of his country house and look -at the various portraits of those whose blood flowed in his veins. -Here was Philip Herbert, described by Francis Osborne, -in his Memoires on the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James, -as one who was "caressed by the Court for his handsome face, -which kept him not long company." Was it young Herbert's -life that he sometimes led? Had some strange poisonous -germ crept from body to body till it had reached his own? -Was it some dim sense of that ruined grace that had made -him so suddenly, and almost without cause, give utterance, -in Basil Hallward's studio, to the mad prayer that had so changed -his life? Here, in goldembroidered red doublet, jewelled surcoat, -and giltedged ruff and wristbands, stood Sir Anthony Sherard, -with his silverandblack armour piled at his feet. -What had this man's legacy been? Had the lover of Giovanna -of Naples bequeathed him some inheritance of sin and shame? -Were his own actions merely the dreams that the dead man -had not dared to realize? Here, from the fading canvas, -smiled Lady Elizabeth Devereux, in her gauze hood, pearl stomacher, -and pink slashed sleeves. A flower was in her right hand, -and her left clasped an enamelled collar of white and damask roses. -On a table by her side lay a mandolin and an apple. -There were large green rosettes upon her little pointed shoes. -He knew her life, and the strange stories that were told about -her lovers. Had he something of her temperament in him? These oval, -heavylidded eyes seemed to look curiously at him. What of -George Willoughby, with his powdered hair and fantastic patches? -How evil he looked The face was saturnine and swarthy, -and the sensual lips seemed to be twisted with disdain. -Delicate lace ruffles fell over the lean yellow hands that -were so overladen with rings. He had been a macaroni of the -eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars. -What of the second Lord Beckenham, the companion of the Prince -Regent in his wildest days, and one of the witnesses at -the secret marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert? How proud and -handsome he was, with his chestnut curls and insolent pose -What passions had he bequeathed? The world had looked upon -him as infamous. He had led the orgies at Carlton House. -The star of the Garter glittered upon his breast. Beside him hung -the portrait of his wife, a pallid, thinlipped woman in black. -Her blood, also, stirred within him. How curious it all seemed -And his mother with her Lady Hamilton face and her moist, -winedashed lipshe knew what he had got from her. -He had got from her his beauty, and his passion for the beauty -of others. She laughed at him in her loose Bacchante dress. -There were vine leaves in her hair. The purple spilled -from the cup she was holding. The carnations of the painting -had withered, but the eyes were still wonderful in their depth -and brilliancy of colour. They seemed to follow him wherever he -went. -Yet one had ancestors in literature as well as in one's own race, -nearer perhaps in type and temperament, many of them, and certainly -with an influence of which one was more absolutely conscious. -There were times when it appeared to Dorian Gray that the whole -of history was merely the record of his own life, not as he had lived -it in act and circumstance, but as his imagination had created -it for him, as it had been in his brain and in his passions. -He felt that he had known them all, those strange terrible figures -that had passed across the stage of the world and made sin so marvellous -and evil so full of subtlety. It seemed to him that in some mysterious -way their lives had been his own. -The hero of the wonderful novel that had so influenced his life had -himself known this curious fancy. In the seventh chapter he tells how, -crowned with laurel, lest lightning might strike him, he had sat, -as Tiberius, in a garden at Capri, reading the shameful books -of Elephantis, while dwarfs and peacocks strutted round him and -the fluteplayer mocked the swinger of the censer and, as Caligula, -had caroused with the greenshirted jockeys in their stables and supped -in an ivory manger with a jewelfrontleted horse and, as Domitian, -had wandered through a corridor lined with marble mirrors, -looking round with haggard eyes for the reflection of the dagger -that was to end his days, and sick with that ennui, that terrible -taedium vitae, that comes on those to whom life denies nothing -and had peered through a clear emerald at the red shambles of the circus -and then, in a litter of pearl and purple drawn by silvershod mules, -been carried through the Street of Pomegranates to a House of Gold -and heard men cry on Nero Caesar as he passed by and, as Elagabalus, -had painted his face with colours, and plied the distaff among the women, -and brought the Moon from Carthage and given her in mystic marriage -to the Sun. -Over and over again Dorian used to read this fantastic chapter, -and the two chapters immediately following, in which, as in some -curious tapestries or cunningly wrought enamels, were pictured -the awful and beautiful forms of those whom vice and blood -and weariness had made monstrous or mad Filippo, Duke of Milan, -who slew his wife and painted her lips with a scarlet poison -that her lover might suck death from the dead thing he fondled -Pietro Barbi, the Venetian, known as Paul the Second, -who sought in his vanity to assume the title of Formosus, -and whose tiara, valued at two hundred thousand florins, -was bought at the price of a terrible sin Gian Maria Visconti, -who used hounds to chase living men and whose murdered -body was covered with roses by a harlot who had loved him -the Borgia on his white horse, with Fratricide riding beside -him and his mantle stained with the blood of Perotto -Pietro Riario, the young Cardinal Archbishop of Florence, -child and minion of Sixtus IV, whose beauty was equalled only by -his debauchery, and who received Leonora of Aragon in a pavilion -of white and crimson silk, filled with nymphs and centaurs, -and gilded a boy that he might serve at the feast as Ganymede -or Hylas Ezzelin, whose melancholy could be cured only by -the spectacle of death, and who had a passion for red blood, -as other men have for red winethe son of the Fiend, -as was reported, and one who had cheated his father at dice -when gambling with him for his own soul Giambattista Cibo, -who in mockery took the name of Innocent and into whose torpid -veins the blood of three lads was infused by a Jewish doctor -Sigismondo Malatesta, the lover of Isotta and the lord of Rimini, -whose effigy was burned at Rome as the enemy of God and man, -who strangled Polyssena with a napkin, and gave poison -to Ginevra d'Este in a cup of emerald, and in honour of a -shameful passion built a pagan church for Christian worship -Charles VI, who had so wildly adored his brother's wife that a -leper had warned him of the insanity that was coming on him, -and who, when his brain had sickened and grown strange, -could only be soothed by Saracen cards painted with the images -of love and death and madness and, in his trimmed jerkin -and jewelled cap and acanthuslike curls, Grifonetto Baglioni, -who slew Astorre with his bride, and Simonetto with his page, -and whose comeliness was such that, as he lay dying -in the yellow piazza of Perugia, those who had hated him -could not choose but weep, and Atalanta, who had cursed him, -blessed him. -There was a horrible fascination in them all. He saw them -at night, and they troubled his imagination in the day. -The Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning -poisoning by a helmet and a lighted torch, by an embroidered glove -and a jewelled fan, by a gilded pomander and by an amber chain. -Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book. There were moments when -he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he could realize -his conception of the beautiful. -CHAPTER -It was on the ninth of November, the eve of his own thirtyeighth birthday, -as he often remembered afterwards. -He was walking home about eleven o'clock from Lord Henry's, where he had -been dining, and was wrapped in heavy furs, as the night was cold and foggy. -At the corner of Grosvenor Square and South Audley Street, a man passed him in -the mist, walking very fast and with the collar of his grey ulster turned up. -He had a bag in his hand. Dorian recognized him. It was Basil Hallward. -A strange sense of fear, for which he could not account, came over him. -He made no sign of recognition and went on quickly in the direction of his -own house. -But Hallward had seen him. Dorian heard him first stopping -on the pavement and then hurrying after him. In a few moments, -his hand was on his arm. -"Dorian What an extraordinary piece of luck I have been -waiting for you in your library ever since nine o'clock. Finally -I took pity on your tired servant and told him to go to bed, -as he let me out. I am off to Paris by the midnight train, -and I particularly wanted to see you before I left. -I thought it was you, or rather your fur coat, as you passed me. -But I wasn't quite sure. Didn't you recognize me?" -"In this fog, my dear Basil? Why, I can't even recognize Grosvenor Square. -I believe my house is somewhere about here, but I don't feel at all certain -about it. I am sorry you are going away, as I have not seen you for ages. -But I suppose you will be back soon?" -"No I am going to be out of England for six months. -I intend to take a studio in Paris and shut myself up till I have -finished a great picture I have in my head. However, it wasn't -about myself I wanted to talk. Here we are at your door. -Let me come in for a moment. I have something to say -to you." -"I shall be charmed. But won't you miss your train?" said Dorian Gray -languidly as he passed up the steps and opened the door with his latchkey. -The lamplight struggled out through the fog, and Hallward looked -at his watch. "I have heaps of time," he answered. "The train -doesn't go till twelvefifteen, and it is only just eleven. -In fact, I was on my way to the club to look for you, when I met you. -You see, I shan't have any delay about luggage, as I have sent on my -heavy things. All I have with me is in this bag, and I can easily -get to Victoria in twenty minutes." -Dorian looked at him and smiled. "What a way for a fashionable -painter to travel A Gladstone bag and an ulster Come in, -or the fog will get into the house. And mind you don't -talk about anything serious. Nothing is serious nowadays. -At least nothing should be." -Hallward shook his head, as he entered, and followed Dorian into the library. -There was a bright wood fire blazing in the large open hearth. The lamps -were lit, and an open Dutch silver spiritcase stood, with some siphons of -sodawater and large cutglass tumblers, on a little marqueterie table. -"You see your servant made me quite at home, Dorian. He gave me -everything I wanted, including your best goldtipped cigarettes. -He is a most hospitable creature. I like him much better than -the Frenchman you used to have. What has become of the Frenchman, -by the bye?" -Dorian shrugged his shoulders. "I believe he married Lady Radley's maid, -and has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker. Anglomania is -very fashionable over there now, I hear. It seems silly of the French, -doesn't it? Butdo you know?he was not at all a bad servant. -I never liked him, but I had nothing to complain about. One often -imagines things that are quite absurd. He was really very devoted to me -and seemed quite sorry when he went away. Have another brandyandsoda? Or -would you like hockandseltzer? I always take hockandseltzer myself. -There is sure to be some in the next room." -"Thanks, I won't have anything more," said the painter, -taking his cap and coat off and throwing them on the bag -that he had placed in the corner. "And now, my dear fellow, -I want to speak to you seriously. Don't frown like that. -You make it so much more difficult for me." -"What is it all about?" cried Dorian in his petulant way, -flinging himself down on the sofa. "I hope it is not about myself. -I am tired of myself tonight. I should like to be somebody else." -"It is about yourself," answered Hallward in his grave deep voice, -"and I must say it to you. I shall only keep you half an hour." -Dorian sighed and lit a cigarette. "Half an hour" he murmured. -"It is not much to ask of you, Dorian, and it is entirely for your own sake -that I am speaking. I think it right that you should know that the most -dreadful things are being said against you in London." -"I don't wish to know anything about them. I love scandals -about other people, but scandals about myself don't interest me. -They have not got the charm of novelty." -"They must interest you, Dorian. Every gentleman is interested -in his good name. You don't want people to talk of you as -something vile and degraded. Of course, you have your position, -and your wealth, and all that kind of thing. But position -and wealth are not everything. Mind you, I don't believe these -rumours at all. At least, I can't believe them when I see you. -Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's face. -It cannot be concealed. People talk sometimes of secret vices. -There are no such things. If a wretched man has a vice, it shows -itself in the lines of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids, -the moulding of his hands even. SomebodyI won't mention his name, -but you know himcame to me last year to have his portrait done. -I had never seen him before, and had never heard anything -about him at the time, though I have heard a good deal since. -He offered an extravagant price. I refused him. -There was something in the shape of his fingers that I hated. -I know now that I was quite right in what I fancied about him. -His life is dreadful. But you, Dorian, with your pure, -bright, innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth -I can't believe anything against you. And yet I see you -very seldom, and you never come down to the studio now, -and when I am away from you, and I hear all these hideous things -that people are whispering about you, I don't know what to say. -Why is it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves -the room of a club when you enter it? Why is it that so many -gentlemen in London will neither go to your house or invite -you to theirs? You used to be a friend of Lord Staveley. -I met him at dinner last week. Your name happened to come up -in conversation, in connection with the miniatures you have lent -to the exhibition at the Dudley. Staveley curled his lip and said -that you might have the most artistic tastes, but that you -were a man whom no pureminded girl should be allowed to know, -and whom no chaste woman should sit in the same room with. -I reminded him that I was a friend of yours, and asked him what -he meant. He told me. He told me right out before everybody. -It was horrible Why is your friendship so fatal to young men? -There was that wretched boy in the Guards who committed suicide. -You were his great friend. There was Sir Henry Ashton, -who had to leave England with a tarnished name. You and -he were inseparable. What about Adrian Singleton and his -dreadful end? What about Lord Kent's only son and his career? -I met his father yesterday in St. James's Street. He seemed broken -with shame and sorrow. What about the young Duke of Perth? -What sort of life has he got now? What gentleman would associate with -him?" -"Stop, Basil. You are talking about things of which you know nothing," -said Dorian Gray, biting his lip, and with a note of infinite contempt -in his voice. "You ask me why Berwick leaves a room when I enter it. -It is because I know everything about his life, not because he knows -anything about mine. With such blood as he has in his veins, how could -his record be clean? You ask me about Henry Ashton and young Perth. -Did I teach the one his vices, and the other his debauchery? -If Kent's silly son takes his wife from the streets, what is that to me? -If Adrian Singleton writes his friend's name across a bill, am I his keeper? -I know how people chatter in England. The middle classes air their moral -prejudices over their gross dinnertables, and whisper about what they -call the profligacies of their betters in order to try and pretend -that they are in smart society and on intimate terms with the people -they slander. In this country, it is enough for a man to have -distinction and brains for every common tongue to wag against him. -And what sort of lives do these people, who pose as being moral, -lead themselves? My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land -of the hypocrite." -"Dorian," cried Hallward, "that is not the question. -England is bad enough I know, and English society is all wrong. -That is the reason why I want you to be fine. You have not -been fine. One has a right to judge of a man by the effect -he has over his friends. Yours seem to lose all sense of honour, -of goodness, of purity. You have filled them with a madness -for pleasure. They have gone down into the depths. -You led them there. Yes you led them there, and yet you -can smile, as you are smiling now. And there is worse behind. -I know you and Harry are inseparable. Surely for that reason, -if for none other, you should not have made his sister's name -a byword." -"Take care, Basil. You go too far." -"I must speak, and you must listen. You shall listen. -When you met Lady Gwendolen, not a breath of scandal had ever -touched her. Is there a single decent woman in London now -who would drive with her in the park? Why, even her children -are not allowed to live with her. Then there are other stories -stories that you have been seen creeping at dawn out of dreadful -houses and slinking in disguise into the foulest dens in London. -Are they true? Can they be true? When I first heard them, -I laughed. I hear them now, and they make me shudder. -What about your countryhouse and the life that is -led there? Dorian, you don't know what is said about you. -I won't tell you that I don't want to preach to you. -I remember Harry saying once that every man who turned himself -into an amateur curate for the moment always began by saying that, -and then proceeded to break his word. I do want to preach to you. -I want you to lead such a life as will make the world respect you. -I want you to have a clean name and a fair record. -I want you to get rid of the dreadful people you associate with. -Don't shrug your shoulders like that. Don't be so indifferent. -You have a wonderful influence. Let it be for good, not for evil. -They say that you corrupt every one with whom you become intimate, -and that it is quite sufficient for you to enter a house -for shame of some kind to follow after. I don't know whether -it is so or not. How should I know? But it is said of you. -I am told things that it seems impossible to doubt. -Lord Gloucester was one of my greatest friends at Oxford. -He showed me a letter that his wife had written to him when she -was dying alone in her villa at Mentone. Your name was implicated -in the most terrible confession I ever read. I told him that it -was absurdthat I knew you thoroughly and that you were incapable -of anything of the kind. Know you? I wonder do I know you? -Before I could answer that, I should have to see your -soul." -"To see my soul" muttered Dorian Gray, starting up from the sofa -and turning almost white from fear. -"Yes," answered Hallward gravely, and with deeptoned sorrow in his voice, -"to see your soul. But only God can do that." -A bitter laugh of mockery broke from the lips of the younger man. -"You shall see it yourself, tonight" he cried, seizing a -lamp from the table. "Come it is your own handiwork. -Why shouldn't you look at it? You can tell the world all about -it afterwards, if you choose. Nobody would believe you. -If they did believe you, they would like me all the better for it. -I know the age better than you do, though you will prate -about it so tediously. Come, I tell you. You have chattered -enough about corruption. Now you shall look on it face -to face." -There was the madness of pride in every word he uttered. -He stamped his foot upon the ground in his boyish insolent manner. -He felt a terrible joy at the thought that some one else -was to share his secret, and that the man who had painted -the portrait that was the origin of all his shame was to be -burdened for the rest of his life with the hideous memory of what -he had done. -"Yes," he continued, coming closer to him and looking steadfastly -into his stern eyes, "I shall show you my soul. You shall see -the thing that you fancy only God can see." -Hallward started back. "This is blasphemy, Dorian" he cried. -"You must not say things like that. They are horrible, and they -don't mean anything." -"You think so?" He laughed again. -"I know so. As for what I said to you tonight, I said it for your good. -You know I have been always a stanch friend to you." -"Don't touch me. Finish what you have to say." -A twisted flash of pain shot across the painter's face. -He paused for a moment, and a wild feeling of pity came over him. -After all, what right had he to pry into the life of Dorian Gray? -If he had done a tithe of what was rumoured about him, -how much he must have suffered Then he straightened himself up, -and walked over to the fireplace, and stood there, looking at -the burning logs with their frostlike ashes and their throbbing cores -of flame. -"I am waiting, Basil," said the young man in a hard clear voice. -He turned round. "What I have to say is this," he cried. "You must give -me some answer to these horrible charges that are made against you. -If you tell me that they are absolutely untrue from beginning to end, -I shall believe you. Deny them, Dorian, deny them Can't you see what I -am going through? My God don't tell me that you are bad, and corrupt, -and shameful." -Dorian Gray smiled. There was a curl of contempt in his lips. -"Come upstairs, Basil," he said quietly. "I keep a diary of my life -from day to day, and it never leaves the room in which it is written. -I shall show it to you if you come with me." -"I shall come with you, Dorian, if you wish it. I see I have missed -my train. That makes no matter. I can go tomorrow. But don't ask me -to read anything tonight. All I want is a plain answer to my question." -"That shall be given to you upstairs. I could not give it here. -You will not have to read long." -CHAPTER -He passed out of the room and began the ascent, Basil Hallward following -close behind. They walked softly, as men do instinctively at night. -The lamp cast fantastic shadows on the wall and staircase. A rising wind -made some of the windows rattle. -When they reached the top landing, Dorian set the lamp down -on the floor, and taking out the key, turned it in the lock. -"You insist on knowing, Basil?" he asked in a low voice. -"Yes." -"I am delighted," he answered, smiling. Then he added, -somewhat harshly, "You are the one man in the world who is -entitled to know everything about me. You have had more -to do with my life than you think" and, taking up the lamp, -he opened the door and went in. A cold current of air passed them, -and the light shot up for a moment in a flame of murky orange. -He shuddered. "Shut the door behind you," he whispered, -as he placed the lamp on the table. -Hallward glanced round him with a puzzled expression. -The room looked as if it had not been lived in for years. -A faded Flemish tapestry, a curtained picture, an old -Italian cassone, and an almost empty bookcasethat was all -that it seemed to contain, besides a chair and a table. -As Dorian Gray was lighting a halfburned candle that was -standing on the mantelshelf, he saw that the whole place -was covered with dust and that the carpet was in holes. -A mouse ran scuffling behind the wainscoting. There was a damp odour -of mildew. -"So you think that it is only God who sees the soul, Basil? -Draw that curtain back, and you will see mine." -The voice that spoke was cold and cruel. "You are mad, Dorian, or playing -a part," muttered Hallward, frowning. -"You won't? Then I must do it myself," said the young man, -and he tore the curtain from its rod and flung it on the ground. -An exclamation of horror broke from the painter's lips as he saw -in the dim light the hideous face on the canvas grinning at him. -There was something in its expression that filled him with disgust -and loathing. Good heavens it was Dorian Gray's own face -that he was looking at The horror, whatever it was, had not yet -entirely spoiled that marvellous beauty. There was still some -gold in the thinning hair and some scarlet on the sensual mouth. -The sodden eyes had kept something of the loveliness of their blue, -the noble curves had not yet completely passed away from chiselled -nostrils and from plastic throat. Yes, it was Dorian himself. -But who had done it? He seemed to recognize his own brushwork, -and the frame was his own design. The idea was monstrous, yet he -felt afraid. He seized the lighted candle, and held it to the picture. -In the lefthand corner was his own name, traced in long letters of -bright vermilion. -It was some foul parody, some infamous ignoble satire. -He had never done that. Still, it was his own picture. -He knew it, and he felt as if his blood had changed -in a moment from fire to sluggish ice. His own picture -What did it mean? Why had it altered? He turned and looked -at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His mouth twitched, -and his parched tongue seemed unable to articulate. -He passed his hand across his forehead. It was dank with -clammy sweat. -The young man was leaning against the mantelshelf, watching him -with that strange expression that one sees on the faces of those -who are absorbed in a play when some great artist is acting. -There was neither real sorrow in it nor real joy. There was -simply the passion of the spectator, with perhaps a flicker -of triumph in his eyes. He had taken the flower out of his coat, -and was smelling it, or pretending to do so. -"What does this mean?" cried Hallward, at last. His own voice sounded -shrill and curious in his ears. -"Years ago, when I was a boy," said Dorian Gray, crushing the flower -in his hand, "you met me, flattered me, and taught me to be vain -of my good looks. One day you introduced me to a friend of yours, -who explained to me the wonder of youth, and you finished -a portrait of me that revealed to me the wonder of beauty. -In a mad moment that, even now, I don't know whether I regret -or not, I made a wish, perhaps you would call it a prayer. -"I remember it Oh, how well I remember it No the thing is impossible. -The room is damp. Mildew has got into the canvas. The paints I used had some -wretched mineral poison in them. I tell you the thing is impossible." -"Ah, what is impossible?" murmured the young man, going over to the window -and leaning his forehead against the cold, miststained glass. -"You told me you had destroyed it." -"I was wrong. It has destroyed me." -"I don't believe it is my picture." -"Can't you see your ideal in it?" said Dorian bitterly. -"My ideal, as you call it. . ." -"As you called it." -"There was nothing evil in it, nothing shameful. You were to me such -an ideal as I shall never meet again. This is the face of a satyr." -"It is the face of my soul." -"Christ what a thing I must have worshipped It has the eyes of a devil." -"Each of us has heaven and hell in him, Basil," cried Dorian -with a wild gesture of despair. -Hallward turned again to the portrait and gazed at it. -"My God If it is true," he exclaimed, "and this is -what you have done with your life, why, you must be worse -even than those who talk against you fancy you to be" -He held the light up again to the canvas and examined it. -The surface seemed to be quite undisturbed and as he had left it. -It was from within, apparently, that the foulness and horror -had come. Through some strange quickening of inner life -the leprosies of sin were slowly eating the thing away. -The rotting of a corpse in a watery grave was not -so fearful. -His hand shook, and the candle fell from its socket on the floor -and lay there sputtering. He placed his foot on it and put it out. -Then he flung himself into the rickety chair that was standing by -the table and buried his face in his hands. -"Good God, Dorian, what a lesson What an awful lesson" -There was no answer, but he could hear the young man -sobbing at the window. "Pray, Dorian, pray," he murmured. -"What is it that one was taught to say in one's boyhood? -'Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. -Wash away our iniquities.' Let us say that together. -The prayer of your pride has been answered. The prayer of your -repentance will be answered also. I worshipped you too much. -I am punished for it. You worshipped yourself too much. We are -both punished." -Dorian Gray turned slowly around and looked at him with teardimmed eyes. -"It is too late, Basil," he faltered. -"It is never too late, Dorian. Let us kneel down and try if we -cannot remember a prayer. Isn't there a verse somewhere, -'Though your sins be as scarlet, yet I will make them as white -as snow'?" -"Those words mean nothing to me now." -"Hush Don't say that. You have done enough evil in your life. -My God Don't you see that accursed thing leering at us?" -Dorian Gray glanced at the picture, and suddenly an uncontrollable -feeling of hatred for Basil Hallward came over him, as though -it had been suggested to him by the image on the canvas, -whispered into his ear by those grinning lips. The mad -passions of a hunted animal stirred within him, and he loathed -the man who was seated at the table, more than in his whole -life he had ever loathed anything. He glanced wildly around. -Something glimmered on the top of the painted chest that -faced him. His eye fell on it. He knew what it was. -It was a knife that he had brought up, some days before, -to cut a piece of cord, and had forgotten to take away with him. -He moved slowly towards it, passing Hallward as he did so. -As soon as he got behind him, he seized it and turned round. -Hallward stirred in his chair as if he was going to rise. -He rushed at him and dug the knife into the great vein that is behind -the ear, crushing the man's head down on the table and stabbing again -and again. -There was a stifled groan and the horrible sound of some one choking -with blood. Three times the outstretched arms shot up convulsively, -waving grotesque, stifffingered hands in the air. He stabbed him twice more, -but the man did not move. Something began to trickle on the floor. -He waited for a moment, still pressing the head down. Then he threw -the knife on the table, and listened. -He could hear nothing, but the drip, drip on the threadbare carpet. -He opened the door and went out on the landing. The house was -absolutely quiet. No one was about. For a few seconds he stood -bending over the balustrade and peering down into the black seething -well of darkness. Then he took out the key and returned to the room, -locking himself in as he did so. -The thing was still seated in the chair, straining over the table -with bowed head, and humped back, and long fantastic arms. -Had it not been for the red jagged tear in the neck and the clotted -black pool that was slowly widening on the table, one would have said -that the man was simply asleep. -How quickly it had all been done He felt strangely calm, and walking -over to the window, opened it and stepped out on the balcony. -The wind had blown the fog away, and the sky was like a monstrous -peacock's tail, starred with myriads of golden eyes. He looked -down and saw the policeman going his rounds and flashing the long -beam of his lantern on the doors of the silent houses. The crimson -spot of a prowling hansom gleamed at the corner and then vanished. -A woman in a fluttering shawl was creeping slowly by the railings, -staggering as she went. Now and then she stopped and peered back. -Once, she began to sing in a hoarse voice. The policeman strolled -over and said something to her. She stumbled away, laughing. -A bitter blast swept across the square. The gaslamps flickered -and became blue, and the leafless trees shook their black iron -branches to and fro. He shivered and went back, closing the window -behind him. -Having reached the door, he turned the key and opened it. -He did not even glance at the murdered man. He felt that -the secret of the whole thing was not to realize the situation. -The friend who had painted the fatal portrait to which -all his misery had been due had gone out of his life. -That was enough. -Then he remembered the lamp. It was a rather curious one of -Moorish workmanship, made of dull silver inlaid with arabesques -of burnished steel, and studded with coarse turquoises. -Perhaps it might be missed by his servant, and questions would -be asked. He hesitated for a moment, then he turned back and took -it from the table. He could not help seeing the dead thing. -How still it was How horribly white the long hands looked -It was like a dreadful wax image. -Having locked the door behind him, he crept quietly downstairs. -The woodwork creaked and seemed to cry out as if in pain. -He stopped several times and waited. No everything was still. -It was merely the sound of his own footsteps. -When he reached the library, he saw the bag and coat in the corner. -They must be hidden away somewhere. He unlocked a secret press that was -in the wainscoting, a press in which he kept his own curious disguises, -and put them into it. He could easily burn them afterwards. Then he pulled -out his watch. It was twenty minutes to two. -He sat down and began to think. Every yearevery month, almost -men were strangled in England for what he had done. There had been -a madness of murder in the air. Some red star had come too close -to the earth. . . . And yet, what evidence was there against him? -Basil Hallward had left the house at eleven. No one had seen -him come in again. Most of the servants were at Selby Royal. -His valet had gone to bed.... Paris Yes. It was to Paris that -Basil had gone, and by the midnight train, as he had intended. -With his curious reserved habits, it would be months before any -suspicions would be roused. Months Everything could be destroyed long -before then. -A sudden thought struck him. He put on his fur coat and hat -and went out into the hall. There he paused, hearing the slow -heavy tread of the policeman on the pavement outside and -seeing the flash of the bull'seye reflected in the window. -He waited and held his breath. -After a few moments he drew back the latch and slipped out, -shutting the door very gently behind him. Then he began -ringing the bell. In about five minutes his valet appeared, -halfdressed and looking very drowsy. -"I am sorry to have had to wake you up, Francis," he said, stepping in -"but I had forgotten my latchkey. What time is it?" -"Ten minutes past two, sir," answered the man, looking at the clock -and blinking. -"Ten minutes past two? How horribly late You must wake me -at nine tomorrow. I have some work to do." -"All right, sir." -"Did any one call this evening?" -"Mr. Hallward, sir. He stayed here till eleven, and then he went -away to catch his train." -"Oh I am sorry I didn't see him. Did he leave any message?" -"No, sir, except that he would write to you from Paris, -if he did not find you at the club." -"That will do, Francis. Don't forget to call me at nine tomorrow." -"No, sir." -The man shambled down the passage in his slippers. -Dorian Gray threw his hat and coat upon the table and passed -into the library. For a quarter of an hour he walked up and down -the room, biting his lip and thinking. Then he took down the Blue -Book from one of the shelves and began to turn over the leaves. -"Alan Campbell, , Hertford Street, Mayfair." Yes that was the man -he wanted. -CHAPTER -At nine o'clock the next morning his servant came in with a cup of chocolate -on a tray and opened the shutters. Dorian was sleeping quite peacefully, -lying on his right side, with one hand underneath his cheek. He looked -like a boy who had been tired out with play, or study. -The man had to touch him twice on the shoulder before he woke, -and as he opened his eyes a faint smile passed across his lips, -as though he had been lost in some delightful dream. Yet he had -not dreamed at all. His night had been untroubled by any images -of pleasure or of pain. But youth smiles without any reason. -It is one of its chiefest charms. -He turned round, and leaning upon his elbow, began to sip his chocolate. -The mellow November sun came streaming into the room. The sky was bright, -and there was a genial warmth in the air. It was almost like a morning -in May. -Gradually the events of the preceding night crept with silent, -bloodstained feet into his brain and reconstructed themselves -there with terrible distinctness. He winced at the memory of all -that he had suffered, and for a moment the same curious feeling -of loathing for Basil Hallward that had made him kill him as he sat -in the chair came back to him, and he grew cold with passion. -The dead man was still sitting there, too, and in the sunlight now. -How horrible that was Such hideous things were for the darkness, -not for the day. -He felt that if he brooded on what he had gone through he would sicken -or grow mad. There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory -than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more -than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, -greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the senses. -But this was not one of them. It was a thing to be driven out of the mind, -to be drugged with poppies, to be strangled lest it might strangle -one itself. -When the halfhour struck, he passed his hand across his forehead, -and then got up hastily and dressed himself with even more than his -usual care, giving a good deal of attention to the choice of his necktie -and scarfpin and changing his rings more than once. He spent a long -time also over breakfast, tasting the various dishes, talking to his -valet about some new liveries that he was thinking of getting made -for the servants at Selby, and going through his correspondence. -At some of the letters, he smiled. Three of them bored him. -One he read several times over and then tore up with a slight look -of annoyance in his face. "That awful thing, a woman's memory" -as Lord Henry had once said. -After he had drunk his cup of black coffee, he wiped his -lips slowly with a napkin, motioned to his servant to wait, -and going over to the table, sat down and wrote two letters. -One he put in his pocket, the other he handed to the valet. -"Take this round to , Hertford Street, Francis, and if Mr. Campbell -is out of town, get his address." -As soon as he was alone, he lit a cigarette and began sketching upon -a piece of paper, drawing first flowers and bits of architecture, -and then human faces. Suddenly he remarked that every face that -he drew seemed to have a fantastic likeness to Basil Hallward. -He frowned, and getting up, went over to the bookcase and took -out a volume at hazard. He was determined that he would not think -about what had happened until it became absolutely necessary that -he should do so. -When he had stretched himself on the sofa, he looked at -the titlepage of the book. It was Gautier's Emaux et Camees, -Charpentier's Japanesepaper edition, with the Jacquemart etching. -The binding was of citrongreen leather, with a design of gilt -trelliswork and dotted pomegranates. It had been given -to him by Adrian Singleton. As he turned over the pages, -his eye fell on the poem about the hand of Lacenaire, -the cold yellow hand "du supplice encore mal lavee," -with its downy red hairs and its "doigts de faune." He glanced -at his own white taper fingers, shuddering slightly in spite -of himself, and passed on, till he came to those lovely stanzas -upon Venice -Sur une gamme chromatique, -Le sein de peries ruisselant, -La Venus de l'Adriatique -Sort de l'eau son corps rose et blanc. -Les domes, sur l'azur des ondes -Suivant la phrase au pur contour, -S'enflent comme des gorges rondes -Que souleve un soupir d'amour. -L'esquif aborde et me depose, -Jetant son amarre au pilier, -Devant une facade rose, -Sur le marbre d'un escalier. -How exquisite they were As one read them, one seemed to be -floating down the green waterways of the pink and pearl city, -seated in a black gondola with silver prow and trailing curtains. -The mere lines looked to him like those straight lines of -turquoiseblue that follow one as one pushes out to the Lido. -The sudden flashes of colour reminded him of the gleam of -the opalandiristhroated birds that flutter round the tall -honeycombed Campanile, or stalk, with such stately grace, -through the dim, duststained arcades. Leaning back with -halfclosed eyes, he kept saying over and over to himself -"Devant une facade rose, -Sur le marbre d'un escalier." -The whole of Venice was in those two lines. He remembered the autumn -that he had passed there, and a wonderful love that had stirred -him to mad delightful follies. There was romance in every place. -But Venice, like Oxford, had kept the background for romance, and, -to the true romantic, background was everything, or almost everything. -Basil had been with him part of the time, and had gone wild over Tintoret. -Poor Basil What a horrible way for a man to die -He sighed, and took up the volume again, and tried to forget. -He read of the swallows that fly in and out of the little -cafe at Smyrna where the Hadjis sit counting their amber -beads and the turbaned merchants smoke their long tasselled -pipes and talk gravely to each other he read of the Obelisk -in the Place de la Concorde that weeps tears of granite -in its lonely sunless exile and longs to be back by the hot, -lotuscovered Nile, where there are Sphinxes, and rosered ibises, -and white vultures with gilded claws, and crocodiles with -small beryl eyes that crawl over the green steaming mud -he began to brood over those verses which, drawing music -from kissstained marble, tell of that curious statue that -Gautier compares to a contralto voice, the "monstre charmant" -that couches in the porphyryroom of the Louvre. But after a time -the book fell from his hand. He grew nervous, and a horrible -fit of terror came over him. What if Alan Campbell should be -out of England? Days would elapse before he could come back. -Perhaps he might refuse to come. What could he do then? -Every moment was of vital importance. -They had been great friends once, five years before -almost inseparable, indeed. Then the intimacy had come suddenly -to an end. When they met in society now, it was only Dorian -Gray who smiled Alan Campbell never did. -He was an extremely clever young man, though he had no real -appreciation of the visible arts, and whatever little sense -of the beauty of poetry he possessed he had gained entirely -from Dorian. His dominant intellectual passion was for science. -At Cambridge he had spent a great deal of his time working -in the laboratory, and had taken a good class in the Natural -Science Tripos of his year. Indeed, he was still devoted -to the study of chemistry, and had a laboratory of his -own in which he used to shut himself up all day long, -greatly to the annoyance of his mother, who had set her -heart on his standing for Parliament and had a vague idea -that a chemist was a person who made up prescriptions. -He was an excellent musician, however, as well, and played -both the violin and the piano better than most amateurs. -In fact, it was music that had first brought him and Dorian -Gray togethermusic and that indefinable attraction that -Dorian seemed to be able to exercise whenever he wished -and, indeed, exercised often without being conscious of it. -They had met at Lady Berkshire's the night that Rubinstein -played there, and after that used to be always seen together -at the opera and wherever good music was going on. -For eighteen months their intimacy lasted. Campbell was -always either at Selby Royal or in Grosvenor Square. -To him, as to many others, Dorian Gray was the type -of everything that is wonderful and fascinating in life. -Whether or not a quarrel had taken place between them no one -ever knew. But suddenly people remarked that they scarcely -spoke when they met and that Campbell seemed always to go -away early from any party at which Dorian Gray was present. -He had changed, toowas strangely melancholy at times, appeared -almost to dislike hearing music, and would never himself play, -giving as his excuse, when he was called upon, that he was so -absorbed in science that he had no time left in which to practise. -And this was certainly true. Every day he seemed to become -more interested in biology, and his name appeared once or twice -in some of the scientific reviews in connection with certain -curious experiments. -This was the man Dorian Gray was waiting for. Every second -he kept glancing at the clock. As the minutes went by he became -horribly agitated. At last he got up and began to pace up -and down the room, looking like a beautiful caged thing. -He took long stealthy strides. His hands were curiously cold. -The suspense became unbearable. Time seemed to him to be crawling -with feet of lead, while he by monstrous winds was being swept towards -the jagged edge of some black cleft of precipice. He knew what was -waiting for him there saw it, indeed, and, shuddering, crushed with dank -hands his burning lids as though he would have robbed the very brain -of sight and driven the eyeballs back into their cave. It was useless. -The brain had its own food on which it battened, and the imagination, -made grotesque by terror, twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain, -danced like some foul puppet on a stand and grinned through moving masks. -Then, suddenly, time stopped for him. Yes that blind, slowbreathing thing -crawled no more, and horrible thoughts, time being dead, raced nimbly on -in front, and dragged a hideous future from its grave, and showed it to him. -He stared at it. Its very horror made him stone. -At last the door opened and his servant entered. He turned -glazed eyes upon him. -"Mr. Campbell, sir," said the man. -A sigh of relief broke from his parched lips, and the colour came -back to his cheeks. -"Ask him to come in at once, Francis." He felt that he was himself again. -His mood of cowardice had passed away. -The man bowed and retired. In a few moments, Alan Campbell walked in, -looking very stern and rather pale, his pallor being intensified by his -coalblack hair and dark eyebrows. -"Alan This is kind of you. I thank you for coming." -"I had intended never to enter your house again, Gray. But you said -it was a matter of life and death." His voice was hard and cold. -He spoke with slow deliberation. There was a look of contempt -in the steady searching gaze that he turned on Dorian. -He kept his hands in the pockets of his Astrakhan coat, and seemed -not to have noticed the gesture with which he had been greeted. -"Yes it is a matter of life and death, Alan, and to more than one person. -Sit down." -Campbell took a chair by the table, and Dorian sat opposite to him. -The two men's eyes met. In Dorian's there was infinite pity. -He knew that what he was going to do was dreadful. -After a strained moment of silence, he leaned across and said, -very quietly, but watching the effect of each word upon the face -of him he had sent for, "Alan, in a locked room at the top -of this house, a room to which nobody but myself has access, -a dead man is seated at a table. He has been dead ten hours now. -Don't stir, and don't look at me like that. Who the man is, -why he died, how he died, are matters that do not concern you. -What you have to do is this" -"Stop, Gray. I don't want to know anything further. -Whether what you have told me is true or not true doesn't -concern me. I entirely decline to be mixed up in your life. -Keep your horrible secrets to yourself. They don't interest me -any more." -"Alan, they will have to interest you. This one will have to interest you. -I am awfully sorry for you, Alan. But I can't help myself. -You are the one man who is able to save me. I am forced to bring -you into the matter. I have no option. Alan, you are scientific. -You know about chemistry and things of that kind. You have made experiments. -What you have got to do is to destroy the thing that is upstairs -to destroy it so that not a vestige of it will be left. Nobody saw this -person come into the house. Indeed, at the present moment he is supposed -to be in Paris. He will not be missed for months. When he is missed, -there must be no trace of him found here. You, Alan, you must change him, -and everything that belongs to him, into a handful of ashes that I may -scatter in the air." -"You are mad, Dorian." -"Ah I was waiting for you to call me Dorian." -"You are mad, I tell youmad to imagine that I would raise -a finger to help you, mad to make this monstrous confession. -I will have nothing to do with this matter, whatever it is. -Do you think I am going to peril my reputation for you? What is it -to me what devil's work you are up to?" -"It was suicide, Alan." -"I am glad of that. But who drove him to it? You, I should fancy." -"Do you still refuse to do this for me?" -"Of course I refuse. I will have absolutely nothing to do with it. -I don't care what shame comes on you. You deserve it all. -I should not be sorry to see you disgraced, publicly disgraced. -How dare you ask me, of all men in the world, to mix myself -up in this horror? I should have thought you knew more about -people's characters. Your friend Lord Henry Wotton can't have -taught you much about psychology, whatever else he has taught you. -Nothing will induce me to stir a step to help you. You have -come to the wrong man. Go to some of your friends. Don't come -to me." -"Alan, it was murder. I killed him. You don't know what he had made -me suffer. Whatever my life is, he had more to do with the making or -the marring of it than poor Harry has had. He may not have intended it, -the result was the same." -"Murder Good God, Dorian, is that what you have come to? -I shall not inform upon you. It is not my business. Besides, without -my stirring in the matter, you are certain to be arrested. -Nobody ever commits a crime without doing something stupid. -But I will have nothing to do with it." -"You must have something to do with it. Wait, wait a moment -listen to me. Only listen, Alan. All I ask of you is to perform -a certain scientific experiment. You go to hospitals and -deadhouses, and the horrors that you do there don't affect you. -If in some hideous dissectingroom or fetid laboratory you -found this man lying on a leaden table with red gutters scooped -out in it for the blood to flow through, you would simply look -upon him as an admirable subject. You would not turn a hair. -You would not believe that you were doing anything wrong. -On the contrary, you would probably feel that you were benefiting -the human race, or increasing the sum of knowledge in the world, -or gratifying intellectual curiosity, or something of that kind. -What I want you to do is merely what you have often done before. -Indeed, to destroy a body must be far less horrible than -what you are accustomed to work at. And, remember, it is -the only piece of evidence against me. If it is discovered, -I am lost and it is sure to be discovered unless you -help me." -"I have no desire to help you. You forget that. I am simply -indifferent to the whole thing. It has nothing to do with me." -"Alan, I entreat you. Think of the position I am in. -Just before you came I almost fainted with terror. -You may know terror yourself some day. No don't think of that. -Look at the matter purely from the scientific point of view. -You don't inquire where the dead things on which you -experiment come from. Don't inquire now. I have told you -too much as it is. But I beg of you to do this. We were -friends once, Alan." -"Don't speak about those days, Dorianthey are dead." -"The dead linger sometimes. The man upstairs will not go away. -He is sitting at the table with bowed head and outstretched arms. -Alan Alan If you don't come to my assistance, I am ruined. -Why, they will hang me, Alan Don't you understand? They will hang -me for what I have done." -"There is no good in prolonging this scene. I absolutely refuse -to do anything in the matter. It is insane of you to ask me." -"You refuse?" -"Yes." -"I entreat you, Alan." -"It is useless." -The same look of pity came into Dorian Gray's eyes. Then he stretched -out his hand, took a piece of paper, and wrote something on it. -He read it over twice, folded it carefully, and pushed it across the table. -Having done this, he got up and went over to the window. -Campbell looked at him in surprise, and then took up the paper, -and opened it. As he read it, his face became ghastly pale and he fell -back in his chair. A horrible sense of sickness came over him. -He felt as if his heart was beating itself to death in some -empty hollow. -After two or three minutes of terrible silence, Dorian turned round and came -and stood behind him, putting his hand upon his shoulder. -"I am so sorry for you, Alan," he murmured, "but you leave me -no alternative. I have a letter written already. Here it is. -You see the address. If you don't help me, I must send it. -If you don't help me, I will send it. You know what the result will be. -But you are going to help me. It is impossible for you to refuse now. -I tried to spare you. You will do me the justice to admit that. -You were stern, harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever -dared to treat meno living man, at any rate. I bore it all. -Now it is for me to dictate terms." -Campbell buried his face in his hands, and a shudder passed through him. -"Yes, it is my turn to dictate terms, Alan. You know what they are. -The thing is quite simple. Come, don't work yourself into this fever. -The thing has to be done. Face it, and do it." -A groan broke from Campbell's lips and he shivered all over. -The ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to him to be -dividing time into separate atoms of agony, each of which was -too terrible to be borne. He felt as if an iron ring was -being slowly tightened round his forehead, as if the disgrace -with which he was threatened had already come upon him. -The hand upon his shoulder weighed like a hand of lead. -It was intolerable. It seemed to crush him. -"Come, Alan, you must decide at once." -"I cannot do it," he said, mechanically, as though words could alter things. -"You must. You have no choice. Don't delay." -He hesitated a moment. "Is there a fire in the room upstairs?" -"Yes, there is a gasfire with asbestos." -"I shall have to go home and get some things from the laboratory." -"No, Alan, you must not leave the house. Write out on a sheet -of notepaper what you want and my servant will take a cab -and bring the things back to you." -Campbell scrawled a few lines, blotted them, and addressed an envelope -to his assistant. Dorian took the note up and read it carefully. -Then he rang the bell and gave it to his valet, with orders to return -as soon as possible and to bring the things with him. -As the hall door shut, Campbell started nervously, and having got up -from the chair, went over to the chimneypiece. He was shivering with -a kind of ague. For nearly twenty minutes, neither of the men spoke. -A fly buzzed noisily about the room, and the ticking of the clock was -like the beat of a hammer. -As the chime struck one, Campbell turned round, and looking at Dorian Gray, -saw that his eyes were filled with tears. There was something in the purity -and refinement of that sad face that seemed to enrage him. "You are infamous, -absolutely infamous" he muttered. -"Hush, Alan. You have saved my life," said Dorian. -"Your life? Good heavens what a life that is You have gone from -corruption to corruption, and now you have culminated in crime. -In doing what I am going to dowhat you force me to do -it is not of your life that I am thinking." -"Ah, Alan," murmured Dorian with a sigh, "I wish you had -a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you." -He turned away as he spoke and stood looking out at the garden. -Campbell made no answer. -After about ten minutes a knock came to the door, and the servant entered, -carrying a large mahogany chest of chemicals, with a long coil of steel and -platinum wire and two rather curiously shaped iron clamps. -"Shall I leave the things here, sir?" he asked Campbell. -"Yes," said Dorian. "And I am afraid, Francis, that I have another -errand for you. What is the name of the man at Richmond who supplies -Selby with orchids?" -"Harden, sir." -"YesHarden. You must go down to Richmond at once, see Harden personally, -and tell him to send twice as many orchids as I ordered, and to have -as few white ones as possible. In fact, I don't want any white ones. -It is a lovely day, Francis, and Richmond is a very pretty place -otherwise I wouldn't bother you about it." -"No trouble, sir. At what time shall I be back?" -Dorian looked at Campbell. "How long will your experiment take, Alan?" -he said in a calm indifferent voice. The presence of a third person -in the room seemed to give him extraordinary courage. -Campbell frowned and bit his lip. "It will take about five hours," -he answered. -"It will be time enough, then, if you are back at halfpast seven, Francis. -Or stay just leave my things out for dressing. You can have the evening -to yourself. I am not dining at home, so I shall not want you." -"Thank you, sir," said the man, leaving the room. -"Now, Alan, there is not a moment to be lost. How heavy this chest is -I'll take it for you. You bring the other things." He spoke rapidly -and in an authoritative manner. Campbell felt dominated by him. -They left the room together. -When they reached the top landing, Dorian took out the key and turned it -in the lock. Then he stopped, and a troubled look came into his eyes. -He shuddered. "I don't think I can go in, Alan," he murmured. -"It is nothing to me. I don't require you," said Campbell coldly. -Dorian half opened the door. As he did so, he saw the face -of his portrait leering in the sunlight. On the floor in front -of it the torn curtain was lying. He remembered that the night -before he had forgotten, for the first time in his life, -to hide the fatal canvas, and was about to rush forward, -when he drew back with a shudder. -What was that loathsome red dew that gleamed, wet and glistening, -on one of the hands, as though the canvas had sweated blood? -How horrible it wasmore horrible, it seemed to him for the moment, -than the silent thing that he knew was stretched across the table, -the thing whose grotesque misshapen shadow on the spotted carpet -showed him that it had not stirred, but was still there, as he had -left it. -He heaved a deep breath, opened the door a little wider, -and with halfclosed eyes and averted head, walked quickly in, -determined that he would not look even once upon the dead man. -Then, stooping down and taking up the goldandpurple hanging, -he flung it right over the picture. -There he stopped, feeling afraid to turn round, and his eyes -fixed themselves on the intricacies of the pattern before him. -He heard Campbell bringing in the heavy chest, and the irons, -and the other things that he had required for his dreadful work. -He began to wonder if he and Basil Hallward had ever met, and, if so, -what they had thought of each other. -"Leave me now," said a stern voice behind him. -He turned and hurried out, just conscious that the dead man -had been thrust back into the chair and that Campbell was gazing -into a glistening yellow face. As he was going downstairs, -he heard the key being turned in the lock. -It was long after seven when Campbell came back into the library. -He was pale, but absolutely calm. "I have done what you asked -me to do," he muttered "And now, goodbye. Let us never see each -other again." -"You have saved me from ruin, Alan. I cannot forget that," -said Dorian simply. -As soon as Campbell had left, he went upstairs. There was a horrible -smell of nitric acid in the room. But the thing that had been sitting -at the table was gone. -CHAPTER -That evening, at eightthirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a large -buttonhole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady -Narborough's drawingroom by bowing servants. His forehead was throbbing -with maddened nerves, and he felt wildly excited, but his manner -as he bent over his hostess's hand was as easy and graceful as ever. -Perhaps one never seems so much at one's ease as when one has to play a part. -Certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could have believed -that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any tragedy of our age. -Those finely shaped fingers could never have clutched a knife for sin, -nor those smiling lips have cried out on God and goodness. He himself -could not help wondering at the calm of his demeanour, and for a moment -felt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double life. -It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by Lady Narborough, -who was a very clever woman with what Lord Henry used to describe -as the remains of really remarkable ugliness. She had proved -an excellent wife to one of our most tedious ambassadors, and having -buried her husband properly in a marble mausoleum, which she -had herself designed, and married off her daughters to some rich, -rather elderly men, she devoted herself now to the pleasures -of French fiction, French cookery, and French esprit when she could -get it. -Dorian was one of her especial favourites, and she always told him -that she was extremely glad she had not met him in early life. -"I know, my dear, I should have fallen madly in love with you," -she used to say, "and thrown my bonnet right over the mills for your sake. -It is most fortunate that you were not thought of at the time. -As it was, our bonnets were so unbecoming, and the mills were -so occupied in trying to raise the wind, that I never had even a -flirtation with anybody. However, that was all Narborough's fault. -He was dreadfully shortsighted, and there is no pleasure in taking -in a husband who never sees anything." -Her guests this evening were rather tedious. The fact was, -as she explained to Dorian, behind a very shabby fan, -one of her married daughters had come up quite suddenly to stay -with her, and, to make matters worse, had actually brought her -husband with her. "I think it is most unkind of her, my dear," -she whispered. "Of course I go and stay with them every summer -after I come from Homburg, but then an old woman like me must -have fresh air sometimes, and besides, I really wake them up. -You don't know what an existence they lead down there. -It is pure unadulterated country life. They get up early, -because they have so much to do, and go to bed early, -because they have so little to think about. There has not been -a scandal in the neighbourhood since the time of Queen Elizabeth, -and consequently they all fall asleep after dinner. -You shan't sit next either of them. You shall sit by me and -amuse me." -Dorian murmured a graceful compliment and looked round -the room. Yes it was certainly a tedious party. -Two of the people he had never seen before, and the others -consisted of Ernest Harrowden, one of those middleaged -mediocrities so common in London clubs who have no enemies, -but are thoroughly disliked by their friends Lady Ruxton, -an overdressed woman of fortyseven, with a hooked nose, -who was always trying to get herself compromised, but was -so peculiarly plain that to her great disappointment no -one would ever believe anything against her Mrs. Erlynne, -a pushing nobody, with a delightful lisp and Venetianred hair -Lady Alice Chapman, his hostess's daughter, a dowdy dull girl, -with one of those characteristic British faces that, once seen, -are never remembered and her husband, a redcheeked, -whitewhiskered creature who, like so many of his class, -was under the impression that inordinate joviality can atone for -an entire lack of ideas. -He was rather sorry he had come, till Lady Narborough, -looking at the great ormolu gilt clock that sprawled in gaudy -curves on the mauvedraped mantelshelf, exclaimed "How horrid -of Henry Wotton to be so late I sent round to him this morning -on chance and he promised faithfully not to disappoint me." -It was some consolation that Harry was to be there, and when the door opened -and he heard his slow musical voice lending charm to some insincere apology, -he ceased to feel bored. -But at dinner he could not eat anything. Plate after plate went -away untasted. Lady Narborough kept scolding him for what she -called "an insult to poor Adolphe, who invented the menu -specially for you," and now and then Lord Henry looked across -at him, wondering at his silence and abstracted manner. -From time to time the butler filled his glass with champagne. -He drank eagerly, and his thirst seemed to increase. -"Dorian," said Lord Henry at last, as the chaudfroid was being handed round, -"what is the matter with you tonight? You are quite out of sorts." -"I believe he is in love," cried Lady Narborough, "and that he is -afraid to tell me for fear I should be jealous. He is quite right. -I certainly should." -"Dear Lady Narborough," murmured Dorian, smiling, "I have not been in love -for a whole weeknot, in fact, since Madame de Ferrol left town." -"How you men can fall in love with that woman" exclaimed the old lady. -"I really cannot understand it." -"It is simply because she remembers you when you were a little girl, -Lady Narborough," said Lord Henry. "She is the one link between us -and your short frocks." -"She does not remember my short frocks at all, Lord Henry. -But I remember her very well at Vienna thirty years ago, -and how decolletee she was then." -"She is still decolletee," he answered, taking an olive in his long fingers -"and when she is in a very smart gown she looks like an edition de luxe -of a bad French novel. She is really wonderful, and full of surprises. -Her capacity for family affection is extraordinary. When her third husband -died, her hair turned quite gold from grief." -"How can you, Harry" cried Dorian. -"It is a most romantic explanation," laughed the hostess. -"But her third husband, Lord Henry You don't mean to say Ferrol -is the fourth?" -"Certainly, Lady Narborough." -"I don't believe a word of it." -"Well, ask Mr. Gray. He is one of her most intimate friends." -"Is it true, Mr. Gray?" -"She assures me so, Lady Narborough," said Dorian. "I asked her whether, -like Marguerite de Navarre, she had their hearts embalmed and hung at -her girdle. She told me she didn't, because none of them had had any -hearts at all." -"Four husbands Upon my word that is trop de zele." -"Trop d'audace, I tell her," said Dorian. -"Oh she is audacious enough for anything, my dear. And what is Ferrol like? -I don't know him." -"The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes," -said Lord Henry, sipping his wine. -Lady Narborough hit him with her fan. "Lord Henry, I am not at all surprised -that the world says that you are extremely wicked." -"But what world says that?" asked Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows. -"It can only be the next world. This world and I are on excellent terms." -"Everybody I know says you are very wicked," cried the old lady, -shaking her head. -Lord Henry looked serious for some moments. "It is perfectly monstrous," -he said, at last, "the way people go about nowadays saying things against one -behind one's back that are absolutely and entirely true." -"Isn't he incorrigible?" cried Dorian, leaning forward in his chair. -"I hope so," said his hostess, laughing. "But really, -if you all worship Madame de Ferrol in this ridiculous way, -I shall have to marry again so as to be in the fashion." -"You will never marry again, Lady Narborough," broke in Lord Henry. -"You were far too happy. When a woman marries again, it is -because she detested her first husband. When a man marries again, -it is because he adored his first wife. Women try their luck -men risk theirs." -"Narborough wasn't perfect," cried the old lady. -"If he had been, you would not have loved him, my dear lady," -was the rejoinder. "Women love us for our defects. -If we have enough of them, they will forgive us everything, -even our intellects. You will never ask me to dinner again -after saying this, I am afraid, Lady Narborough, but it is -quite true." -"Of course it is true, Lord Henry. If we women did not love you for -your defects, where would you all be? Not one of you would ever be married. -You would be a set of unfortunate bachelors. Not, however, that that -would alter you much. Nowadays all the married men live like bachelors, -and all the bachelors like married men." -"Fin de siecle," murmured Lord Henry. -"Fin du globe," answered his hostess. -"I wish it were fin du globe," said Dorian with a sigh. -"Life is a great disappointment." -"Ah, my dear," cried Lady Narborough, putting on her gloves, -"don't tell me that you have exhausted life. When a man says that -one knows that life has exhausted him. Lord Henry is very wicked, -and I sometimes wish that I had been but you are made to be good -you look so good. I must find you a nice wife. Lord Henry, don't you -think that Mr. Gray should get married?" -"I am always telling him so, Lady Narborough," said Lord Henry with a bow. -"Well, we must look out for a suitable match for him. -I shall go through Debrett carefully tonight and draw out a list -of all the eligible young ladies." -"With their ages, Lady Narborough?" asked Dorian. -"Of course, with their ages, slightly edited. But nothing must be done -in a hurry. I want it to be what The Morning Post calls a suitable alliance, -and I want you both to be happy." -"What nonsense people talk about happy marriages" exclaimed Lord Henry. -"A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her." -"Ah what a cynic you are" cried the old lady, pushing back her chair -and nodding to Lady Ruxton. "You must come and dine with me soon again. -You are really an admirable tonic, much better than what Sir Andrew prescribes -for me. You must tell me what people you would like to meet, though. I want -it to be a delightful gathering." -"I like men who have a future and women who have a past," he answered. -"Or do you think that would make it a petticoat party?" -"I fear so," she said, laughing, as she stood up. "A thousand pardons, -my dear Lady Ruxton," she added, "I didn't see you hadn't finished -your cigarette." -"Never mind, Lady Narborough. I smoke a great deal too much. -I am going to limit myself, for the future." -"Pray don't, Lady Ruxton," said Lord Henry. "Moderation is a fatal thing. -Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast." -Lady Ruxton glanced at him curiously. "You must come and explain that to me -some afternoon, Lord Henry. It sounds a fascinating theory," she murmured, -as she swept out of the room. -"Now, mind you don't stay too long over your politics and scandal," -cried Lady Narborough from the door. "If you do, we are sure to -squabble upstairs." -The men laughed, and Mr. Chapman got up solemnly -from the foot of the table and came up to the top. -Dorian Gray changed his seat and went and sat by Lord Henry. -Mr. Chapman began to talk in a loud voice about the situation -in the House of Commons. He guffawed at his adversaries. -The word doctrinaireword full of terror to the British mind -reappeared from time to time between his explosions. -An alliterative prefix served as an ornament of oratory. -He hoisted the Union Jack on the pinnacles of thought. -The inherited stupidity of the racesound English common sense -he jovially termed itwas shown to be the proper bulwark -for society. -A smile curved Lord Henry's lips, and he turned round and looked at Dorian. -"Are you better, my dear fellow?" he asked. "You seemed rather -out of sorts at dinner." -"I am quite well, Harry. I am tired. That is all." -"You were charming last night. The little duchess is quite devoted to you. -She tells me she is going down to Selby." -"She has promised to come on the twentieth." -"Is Monmouth to be there, too?" -"Oh, yes, Harry." -"He bores me dreadfully, almost as much as he bores her. She is very clever, -too clever for a woman. She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness. -It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image precious. Her feet -are very pretty, but they are not feet of clay. White porcelain feet, -if you like. They have been through the fire, and what fire does not destroy, -it hardens. She has had experiences." -"How long has she been married?" asked Dorian. -"An eternity, she tells me. I believe, according to the peerage, -it is ten years, but ten years with Monmouth must have been like eternity, -with time thrown in. Who else is coming?" -"Oh, the Willoughbys, Lord Rugby and his wife, our hostess, -Geoffrey Clouston, the usual set. I have asked Lord Grotrian." -"I like him," said Lord Henry. "A great many people don't, but I find -him charming. He atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed -by being always absolutely overeducated. He is a very modern type." -"I don't know if he will be able to come, Harry. He may have to go to Monte -Carlo with his father." -"Ah what a nuisance people's people are Try and make him come. -By the way, Dorian, you ran off very early last night. -You left before eleven. What did you do afterwards? Did you go -straight home?" -Dorian glanced at him hurriedly and frowned. -"No, Harry," he said at last, "I did not get home till nearly three." -"Did you go to the club?" -"Yes," he answered. Then he bit his lip. "No, I don't mean that. -I didn't go to the club. I walked about. I forget what I did. -. . . How inquisitive you are, Harry You always want to know what -one has been doing. I always want to forget what I have been doing. -I came in at halfpast two, if you wish to know the exact time. -I had left my latchkey at home, and my servant had to let me in. -If you want any corroborative evidence on the subject, you can ask -him." -Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "My dear fellow, as if I cared -Let us go up to the drawingroom. No sherry, thank you, Mr. Chapman. -Something has happened to you, Dorian. Tell me what it is. -You are not yourself tonight." -"Don't mind me, Harry. I am irritable, and out of temper. -I shall come round and see you tomorrow, or next day. -Make my excuses to Lady Narborough. I shan't go upstairs. -I shall go home. I must go home." -"All right, Dorian. I dare say I shall see you tomorrow at teatime. -The duchess is coming." -"I will try to be there, Harry," he said, leaving the room. -As he drove back to his own house, he was conscious that the sense -of terror he thought he had strangled had come back to him. -Lord Henry's casual questioning had made him lose his -nerves for the moment, and he wanted his nerve still. -Things that were dangerous had to be destroyed. He winced. -He hated the idea of even touching them. -Yet it had to be done. He realized that, and when he had -locked the door of his library, he opened the secret press -into which he had thrust Basil Hallward's coat and bag. -A huge fire was blazing. He piled another log on it. -The smell of the singeing clothes and burning leather was horrible. -It took him threequarters of an hour to consume everything. -At the end he felt faint and sick, and having lit some Algerian -pastilles in a pierced copper brazier, he bathed his hands and -forehead with a cool muskscented vinegar. -Suddenly he started. His eyes grew strangely bright, and he gnawed -nervously at his underlip. Between two of the windows stood a large -Florentine cabinet, made out of ebony and inlaid with ivory and blue lapis. -He watched it as though it were a thing that could fascinate and make afraid, -as though it held something that he longed for and yet almost loathed. -His breath quickened. A mad craving came over him. He lit a cigarette -and then threw it away. His eyelids drooped till the long fringed -lashes almost touched his cheek. But he still watched the cabinet. -At last he got up from the sofa on which he had been lying, -went over to it, and having unlocked it, touched some hidden spring. -A triangular drawer passed slowly out. His fingers moved instinctively -towards it, dipped in, and closed on something. It was a small -Chinese box of black and golddust lacquer, elaborately wrought, -the sides patterned with curved waves, and the silken cords hung with -round crystals and tasselled in plaited metal threads. He opened it. -Inside was a green paste, waxy in lustre, the odour curiously heavy -and persistent. -He hesitated for some moments, with a strangely immobile smile upon his face. -Then shivering, though the atmosphere of the room was terribly hot, he drew -himself up and glanced at the clock. It was twenty minutes to twelve. -He put the box back, shutting the cabinet doors as he did so, and went into -his bedroom. -As midnight was striking bronze blows upon the dusky air, Dorian Gray, -dressed commonly, and with a muffler wrapped round his throat, -crept quietly out of his house. In Bond Street he found a hansom -with a good horse. He hailed it and in a low voice gave the driver -an address. -The man shook his head. "It is too far for me," he muttered. -"Here is a sovereign for you," said Dorian. "You shall have another if you -drive fast." -"All right, sir," answered the man, "you will be there in an hour," -and after his fare had got in he turned his horse round and drove -rapidly towards the river. -CHAPTER -A cold rain began to fall, and the blurred streetlamps looked ghastly -in the dripping mist. The publichouses were just closing, and dim -men and women were clustering in broken groups round their doors. -From some of the bars came the sound of horrible laughter. In others, -drunkards brawled and screamed. -Lying back in the hansom, with his hat pulled over his forehead, -Dorian Gray watched with listless eyes the sordid shame -of the great city, and now and then he repeated to himself -the words that Lord Henry had said to him on the first day -they had met, "To cure the soul by means of the senses, -and the senses by means of the soul." Yes, that was the secret. -He had often tried it, and would try it again now. -There were opium dens where one could buy oblivion, dens of horror -where the memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness -of sins that were new. -The moon hung low in the sky like a yellow skull. From time to time -a huge misshapen cloud stretched a long arm across and hid it. -The gaslamps grew fewer, and the streets more narrow and gloomy. -Once the man lost his way and had to drive back half a mile. -A steam rose from the horse as it splashed up the puddles. -The sidewindows of the hansom were clogged with a greyflannel mist. -"To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses -by means of the soul" How the words rang in his ears -His soul, certainly, was sick to death. Was it true that -the senses could cure it? Innocent blood had been spilled. -What could atone for that? Ah for that there was no atonement -but though forgiveness was impossible, forgetfulness was -possible still, and he was determined to forget, to stamp -the thing out, to crush it as one would crush the adder that -had stung one. Indeed, what right had Basil to have spoken -to him as he had done? Who had made him a judge over others? -He had said things that were dreadful, horrible, not to -be endured. -On and on plodded the hansom, going slower, it seemed to him, -at each step. He thrust up the trap and called to the man -to drive faster. The hideous hunger for opium began to gnaw -at him. His throat burned and his delicate hands twitched -nervously together. He struck at the horse madly with his stick. -The driver laughed and whipped up. He laughed in answer, -and the man was silent. -The way seemed interminable, and the streets like the black -web of some sprawling spider. The monotony became unbearable, -and as the mist thickened, he felt afraid. -Then they passed by lonely brickfields. The fog was lighter here, -and he could see the strange, bottleshaped kilns with their orange, -fanlike tongues of fire. A dog barked as they went by, -and far away in the darkness some wandering seagull screamed. -The horse stumbled in a rut, then swerved aside and broke into -a gallop. -After some time they left the clay road and rattled again -over roughpaven streets. Most of the windows were dark, -but now and then fantastic shadows were silhouetted against -some lamplit blind. He watched them curiously. They moved -like monstrous marionettes and made gestures like live things. -He hated them. A dull rage was in his heart. As they turned -a corner, a woman yelled something at them from an open door, -and two men ran after the hansom for about a hundred yards. -The driver beat at them with his whip. -It is said that passion makes one think in a circle. -Certainly with hideous iteration the bitten lips of Dorian Gray -shaped and reshaped those subtle words that dealt with soul -and sense, till he had found in them the full expression, -as it were, of his mood, and justified, by intellectual approval, -passions that without such justification would still have -dominated his temper. From cell to cell of his brain crept -the one thought and the wild desire to live, most terrible -of all man's appetites, quickened into force each trembling -nerve and fibre. Ugliness that had once been hateful -to him because it made things real, became dear to him -now for that very reason. Ugliness was the one reality. -The coarse brawl, the loathsome den, the crude violence -of disordered life, the very vileness of thief and outcast, -were more vivid, in their intense actuality of impression, -than all the gracious shapes of art, the dreamy shadows of song. -They were what he needed for forgetfulness. In three days he would -be free. -Suddenly the man drew up with a jerk at the top of a dark lane. -Over the low roofs and jagged chimneystacks of the houses rose -the black masts of ships. Wreaths of white mist clung like ghostly -sails to the yards. -"Somewhere about here, sir, ain't it?" he asked huskily through the trap. -Dorian started and peered round. "This will do," he answered, -and having got out hastily and given the driver the extra fare -he had promised him, he walked quickly in the direction of the quay. -Here and there a lantern gleamed at the stern of some huge merchantman. -The light shook and splintered in the puddles. A red glare came from -an outwardbound steamer that was coaling. The slimy pavement looked -like a wet mackintosh. -He hurried on towards the left, glancing back now and then to see -if he was being followed. In about seven or eight minutes he reached -a small shabby house that was wedged in between two gaunt factories. -In one of the topwindows stood a lamp. He stopped and gave a -peculiar knock. -After a little time he heard steps in the passage and the chain -being unhooked. The door opened quietly, and he went in without -saying a word to the squat misshapen figure that flattened -itself into the shadow as he passed. At the end of the hall -hung a tattered green curtain that swayed and shook in -the gusty wind which had followed him in from the street. -He dragged it aside and entered a long low room which looked -as if it had once been a thirdrate dancingsaloon. Shrill -flaring gasjets, dulled and distorted in the flyblown mirrors -that faced them, were ranged round the walls. Greasy reflectors -of ribbed tin backed them, making quivering disks of light. -The floor was covered with ochrecoloured sawdust, trampled here -and there into mud, and stained with dark rings of spilled liquor. -Some Malays were crouching by a little charcoal stove, playing with -bone counters and showing their white teeth as they chattered. -In one corner, with his head buried in his arms, a sailor sprawled -over a table, and by the tawdrily painted bar that ran across one -complete side stood two haggard women, mocking an old man who was -brushing the sleeves of his coat with an expression of disgust. -"He thinks he's got red ants on him," laughed one of them, -as Dorian passed by. The man looked at her in terror and began -to whimper. -At the end of the room there was a little staircase, -leading to a darkened chamber. As Dorian hurried up its -three rickety steps, the heavy odour of opium met him. -He heaved a deep breath, and his nostrils quivered with pleasure. -When he entered, a young man with smooth yellow hair, who was -bending over a lamp lighting a long thin pipe, looked up at him -and nodded in a hesitating manner. -"You here, Adrian?" muttered Dorian. -"Where else should I be?" he answered, listlessly. "None of the chaps -will speak to me now." -"I thought you had left England." -"Darlington is not going to do anything. My brother paid the bill at last. -George doesn't speak to me either. . . . I don't care," he added -with a sigh. "As long as one has this stuff, one doesn't want friends. -I think I have had too many friends." -Dorian winced and looked round at the grotesque things that -lay in such fantastic postures on the ragged mattresses. -The twisted limbs, the gaping mouths, the staring lustreless eyes, -fascinated him. He knew in what strange heavens they were suffering, -and what dull hells were teaching them the secret of some new joy. -They were better off than he was. He was prisoned in thought. -Memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away. From time -to time he seemed to see the eyes of Basil Hallward looking at him. -Yet he felt he could not stay. The presence of Adrian Singleton -troubled him. He wanted to be where no one would know who he was. -He wanted to escape from himself. -"I am going on to the other place," he said after a pause. -"On the wharf?" -"Yes." -"That madcat is sure to be there. They won't have her in this place now." -Dorian shrugged his shoulders. "I am sick of women who love one. -Women who hate one are much more interesting. Besides, the stuff -is better." -"Much the same." -"I like it better. Come and have something to drink. -I must have something." -"I don't want anything," murmured the young man. -"Never mind." -Adrian Singleton rose up wearily and followed Dorian to the bar. -A halfcaste, in a ragged turban and a shabby ulster, grinned a -hideous greeting as he thrust a bottle of brandy and two tumblers -in front of them. The women sidled up and began to chatter. -Dorian turned his back on them and said something in a low voice to -Adrian Singleton. -A crooked smile, like a Malay crease, writhed across the face of one -of the women. "We are very proud tonight," she sneered. -"For God's sake don't talk to me," cried Dorian, stamping his -foot on the ground. "What do you want? Money? Here it is. -Don't ever talk to me again." -Two red sparks flashed for a moment in the woman's sodden eyes, -then flickered out and left them dull and glazed. She tossed -her head and raked the coins off the counter with greedy fingers. -Her companion watched her enviously. -"It's no use," sighed Adrian Singleton. "I don't care to go back. -What does it matter? I am quite happy here." -"You will write to me if you want anything, won't you?" said Dorian, -after a pause. -"Perhaps." -"Good night, then." -"Good night," answered the young man, passing up the steps and wiping -his parched mouth with a handkerchief. -Dorian walked to the door with a look of pain in his face. -As he drew the curtain aside, a hideous laugh broke from -the painted lips of the woman who had taken his money. -"There goes the devil's bargain" she hiccoughed, in a -hoarse voice. -"Curse you" he answered, "don't call me that." -She snapped her fingers. "Prince Charming is what you like to be called, -ain't it?" she yelled after him. -The drowsy sailor leaped to his feet as she spoke, and looked wildly round. -The sound of the shutting of the hall door fell on his ear. He rushed out as -if in pursuit. -Dorian Gray hurried along the quay through the drizzling rain. -His meeting with Adrian Singleton had strangely moved him, and he wondered -if the ruin of that young life was really to be laid at his door, -as Basil Hallward had said to him with such infamy of insult. -He bit his lip, and for a few seconds his eyes grew sad. -Yet, after all, what did it matter to him? One's days were too -brief to take the burden of another's errors on one's shoulders. -Each man lived his own life and paid his own price for living it. -The only pity was one had to pay so often for a single fault. -One had to pay over and over again, indeed. In her dealings with man, -destiny never closed her accounts. -There are moments, psychologists tell us, when the passion for sin, or for -what the world calls sin, so dominates a nature that every fibre of the body, -as every cell of the brain, seems to be instinct with fearful impulses. -Men and women at such moments lose the freedom of their will. They move -to their terrible end as automatons move. Choice is taken from them, -and conscience is either killed, or, if it lives at all, lives but to give -rebellion its fascination and disobedience its charm. For all sins, -as theologians weary not of reminding us, are sins of disobedience. -When that high spirit, that morning star of evil, fell from heaven, it was -as a rebel that he fell. -Callous, concentrated on evil, with stained mind, and soul -hungry for rebellion, Dorian Gray hastened on, quickening his -step as he went, but as he darted aside into a dim archway, -that had served him often as a short cut to the illfamed place -where he was going, he felt himself suddenly seized from behind, -and before he had time to defend himself, he was thrust back -against the wall, with a brutal hand round his throat. -He struggled madly for life, and by a terrible effort wrenched -the tightening fingers away. In a second he heard the click -of a revolver, and saw the gleam of a polished barrel, -pointing straight at his head, and the dusky form of a short, -thickset man facing him. -"What do you want?" he gasped. -"Keep quiet," said the man. "If you stir, I shoot you." -"You are mad. What have I done to you?" -"You wrecked the life of Sibyl Vane," was the answer, -"and Sibyl Vane was my sister. She killed herself. I know it. -Her death is at your door. I swore I would kill you in return. -For years I have sought you. I had no clue, no trace. -The two people who could have described you were dead. -I knew nothing of you but the pet name she used to call you. -I heard it tonight by chance. Make your peace with God, -for tonight you are going to die." -Dorian Gray grew sick with fear. "I never knew her," he stammered. -"I never heard of her. You are mad." -"You had better confess your sin, for as sure as I am James Vane, -you are going to die." There was a horrible moment. Dorian did -not know what to say or do. "Down on your knees" growled the man. -"I give you one minute to make your peaceno more. I go on board -tonight for India, and I must do my job first. One minute. -That's all." -Dorian's arms fell to his side. Paralysed with terror, he did not -know what to do. Suddenly a wild hope flashed across his brain. -"Stop," he cried. "How long ago is it since your sister died? -Quick, tell me" -"Eighteen years," said the man. "Why do you ask me? -What do years matter?" -"Eighteen years," laughed Dorian Gray, with a touch of triumph in his voice. -"Eighteen years Set me under the lamp and look at my face" -James Vane hesitated for a moment, not understanding what was meant. -Then he seized Dorian Gray and dragged him from the archway. -Dim and wavering as was the windblown light, yet it served to show -him the hideous error, as it seemed, into which he had fallen, -for the face of the man he had sought to kill had all the bloom -of boyhood, all the unstained purity of youth. He seemed little more -than a lad of twenty summers, hardly older, if older indeed at all, -than his sister had been when they had parted so many years ago. -It was obvious that this was not the man who had destroyed -her life. -He loosened his hold and reeled back. "My God my God" -he cried, "and I would have murdered you" -Dorian Gray drew a long breath. "You have been on the brink of -committing a terrible crime, my man," he said, looking at him sternly. -"Let this be a warning to you not to take vengeance into your -own hands." -"Forgive me, sir," muttered James Vane. "I was deceived. -A chance word I heard in that damned den set me on the wrong track." -"You had better go home and put that pistol away, or you may get -into trouble," said Dorian, turning on his heel and going slowly -down the street. -James Vane stood on the pavement in horror. He was trembling -from head to foot. After a little while, a black shadow -that had been creeping along the dripping wall moved out into -the light and came close to him with stealthy footsteps. -He felt a hand laid on his arm and looked round with a start. -It was one of the women who had been drinking at the bar. -"Why didn't you kill him?" she hissed out, putting haggard face -quite close to his. "I knew you were following him when you -rushed out from Daly's. You fool You should have killed him. -He has lots of money, and he's as bad as bad." -"He is not the man I am looking for," he answered, "and I want -no man's money. I want a man's life. The man whose life I want -must be nearly forty now. This one is little more than a boy. -Thank God, I have not got his blood upon my hands." -The woman gave a bitter laugh. "Little more than a boy" she sneered. -"Why, man, it's nigh on eighteen years since Prince Charming made me what -I am." -"You lie" cried James Vane. -She raised her hand up to heaven. "Before God I am telling the truth," -she cried. -"Before God?" -"Strike me dumb if it ain't so. He is the worst one that comes here. -They say he has sold himself to the devil for a pretty face. It's nigh -on eighteen years since I met him. He hasn't changed much since then. -I have, though," she added, with a sickly leer. -"You swear this?" -"I swear it," came in hoarse echo from her flat mouth. -"But don't give me away to him," she whined "I am afraid of him. -Let me have some money for my night's lodging." -He broke from her with an oath and rushed to the corner of the street, -but Dorian Gray had disappeared. When he looked back, the woman had -vanished also. -CHAPTER -A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal, -talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth, who with her husband, -a jadedlooking man of sixty, was amongst his guests. -It was teatime, and the mellow light of the huge, lacecovered lamp -that stood on the table lit up the delicate china and hammered -silver of the service at which the duchess was presiding. -Her white hands were moving daintily among the cups, and her full red -lips were smiling at something that Dorian had whispered to her. -Lord Henry was lying back in a silkdraped wicker chair, looking at them. -On a peachcoloured divan sat Lady Narborough, pretending to listen -to the duke's description of the last Brazilian beetle that he had -added to his collection. Three young men in elaborate smokingsuits -were handing teacakes to some of the women. The houseparty -consisted of twelve people, and there were more expected to arrive on -the next day. -"What are you two talking about?" said Lord Henry, strolling over to -the table and putting his cup down. "I hope Dorian has told you about -my plan for rechristening everything, Gladys. It is a delightful idea." -"But I don't want to be rechristened, Harry," rejoined the duchess, -looking up at him with her wonderful eyes. "I am quite satisfied -with my own name, and I am sure Mr. Gray should be satisfied -with his." -"My dear Gladys, I would not alter either name for the world. -They are both perfect. I was thinking chiefly of flowers. -Yesterday I cut an orchid, for my buttonhole. It was a marvellous -spotted thing, as effective as the seven deadly sins. -In a thoughtless moment I asked one of the gardeners what it -was called. He told me it was a fine specimen of Robinsoniana, -or something dreadful of that kind. It is a sad truth, -but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things. -Names are everything. I never quarrel with actions. -My one quarrel is with words. That is the reason I hate vulgar -realism in literature. The man who could call a spade a spade -should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit -for." -"Then what should we call you, Harry?" she asked. -"His name is Prince Paradox," said Dorian. -"I recognize him in a flash," exclaimed the duchess. -"I won't hear of it," laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair. -"From a label there is no escape I refuse the title." -"Royalties may not abdicate," fell as a warning from pretty lips. -"You wish me to defend my throne, then?" -"Yes." -"I give the truths of tomorrow." -"I prefer the mistakes of today," she answered. -"You disarm me, Gladys," he cried, catching the wilfulness of her mood. -"Of your shield, Harry, not of your spear." -"I never tilt against beauty," he said, with a wave of his hand. -"That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too much." -"How can you say that? I admit that I think that it is better -to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, -no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better -to be good than to be ugly." -"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins, then?" cried the duchess. -"What becomes of your simile about the orchid?" -"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, Gladys. You, as a good Tory, -must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the seven deadly virtues have -made our England what she is." -"You don't like your country, then?" she asked. -"I live in it." -"That you may censure it the better." -"Would you have me take the verdict of Europe on it?" he inquired. -"What do they say of us?" -"That Tartuffe has emigrated to England and opened a shop." -"Is that yours, Harry?" -"I give it to you." -"I could not use it. It is too true." -"You need not be afraid. Our countrymen never recognize a description." -"They are practical." -"They are more cunning than practical. When they make up their ledger, -they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy." -"Still, we have done great things." -"Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys." -"We have carried their burden." -"Only as far as the Stock Exchange." -She shook her head. "I believe in the race," she cried. -"It represents the survival of the pushing." -"It has development." -"Decay fascinates me more." -"What of art?" she asked. -"It is a malady." -"Love?" -"An illusion." -"Religion?" -"The fashionable substitute for belief." -"You are a sceptic." -"Never Scepticism is the beginning of faith." -"What are you?" -"To define is to limit." -"Give me a clue." -"Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth." -"You bewilder me. Let us talk of some one else." -"Our host is a delightful topic. Years ago he was christened -Prince Charming." -"Ah don't remind me of that," cried Dorian Gray. -"Our host is rather horrid this evening," answered the duchess, colouring. -"I believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on purely scientific principles -as the best specimen he could find of a modern butterfly." -"Well, I hope he won't stick pins into you, Duchess," laughed Dorian. -"Oh my maid does that already, Mr. Gray, when she is annoyed with me." -"And what does she get annoyed with you about, Duchess?" -"For the most trivial things, Mr. Gray, I assure you. -Usually because I come in at ten minutes to nine and tell her -that I must be dressed by halfpast eight." -"How unreasonable of her You should give her warning." -"I daren't, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats for me. -You remember the one I wore at Lady Hilstone's gardenparty? -You don't, but it is nice of you to pretend that you do. -Well, she made if out of nothing. All good hats are made out -of nothing." -"Like all good reputations, Gladys," interrupted Lord Henry. -"Every effect that one produces gives one an enemy. -To be popular one must be a mediocrity." -"Not with women," said the duchess, shaking her head "and women -rule the world. I assure you we can't bear mediocrities. -We women, as some one says, love with our ears, just as you men -love with your eyes, if you ever love at all." -"It seems to me that we never do anything else," murmured Dorian. -"Ah then, you never really love, Mr. Gray," answered the duchess -with mock sadness. -"My dear Gladys" cried Lord Henry. "How can you say that? -Romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an -appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves is -the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does -not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. -We can have in life but one great experience at best, -and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often -as possible." -"Even when one has been wounded by it, Harry?" asked the duchess -after a pause. -"Especially when one has been wounded by it," answered Lord Henry. -The duchess turned and looked at Dorian Gray with a curious -expression in her eyes. "What do you say to that, Mr. Gray?" -she inquired. -Dorian hesitated for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. -"I always agree with Harry, Duchess." -"Even when he is wrong?" -"Harry is never wrong, Duchess." -"And does his philosophy make you happy?" -"I have never searched for happiness. Who wants happiness? -I have searched for pleasure." -"And found it, Mr. Gray?" -"Often. Too often." -The duchess sighed. "I am searching for peace," she said, -"and if I don't go and dress, I shall have none this evening." -"Let me get you some orchids, Duchess," cried Dorian, starting to his feet -and walking down the conservatory. -"You are flirting disgracefully with him," said Lord Henry to his cousin. -"You had better take care. He is very fascinating." -"If he were not, there would be no battle." -"Greek meets Greek, then?" -"I am on the side of the Trojans. They fought for a woman." -"They were defeated." -"There are worse things than capture," she answered. -"You gallop with a loose rein." -"Pace gives life," was the riposte. -"I shall write it in my diary tonight." -"What?" -"That a burnt child loves the fire." -"I am not even singed. My wings are untouched." -"You use them for everything, except flight." -"Courage has passed from men to women. It is a new experience for us." -"You have a rival." -"Who?" -He laughed. "Lady Narborough," he whispered. "She perfectly adores him." -"You fill me with apprehension. The appeal to antiquity is fatal -to us who are romanticists." -"Romanticists You have all the methods of science." -"Men have educated us." -"But not explained you." -"Describe us as a sex," was her challenge. -"Sphinxes without secrets." -She looked at him, smiling. "How long Mr. Gray is" she said. -"Let us go and help him. I have not yet told him the colour of -my frock." -"Ah you must suit your frock to his flowers, Gladys." -"That would be a premature surrender." -"Romantic art begins with its climax." -"I must keep an opportunity for retreat." -"In the Parthian manner?" -"They found safety in the desert. I could not do that." -"Women are not always allowed a choice," he answered, but hardly had -he finished the sentence before from the far end of the conservatory -came a stifled groan, followed by the dull sound of a heavy fall. -Everybody started up. The duchess stood motionless in horror. -And with fear in his eyes, Lord Henry rushed through the flapping -palms to find Dorian Gray lying face downwards on the tiled floor in a -deathlike swoon. -He was carried at once into the blue drawingroom and laid -upon one of the sofas. After a short time, he came to himself -and looked round with a dazed expression. -"What has happened?" he asked. "Oh I remember. Am I safe here, Harry?" -He began to tremble. -"My dear Dorian," answered Lord Henry, "you merely fainted. That was all. -You must have overtired yourself. You had better not come down to dinner. -I will take your place." -"No, I will come down," he said, struggling to his feet. -"I would rather come down. I must not be alone." -He went to his room and dressed. There was a wild recklessness -of gaiety in his manner as he sat at table, but now and then -a thrill of terror ran through him when he remembered that, -pressed against the window of the conservatory, like a -white handkerchief, he had seen the face of James Vane watching him. -CHAPTER -The next day he did not leave the house, and, indeed, spent most -of the time in his own room, sick with a wild terror of dying, -and yet indifferent to life itself. The consciousness of -being hunted, snared, tracked down, had begun to dominate him. -If the tapestry did but tremble in the wind, he shook. -The dead leaves that were blown against the leaded panes seemed -to him like his own wasted resolutions and wild regrets. -When he closed his eyes, he saw again the sailor's face peering -through the miststained glass, and horror seemed once more to lay its -hand upon his heart. -But perhaps it had been only his fancy that had called vengeance out -of the night and set the hideous shapes of punishment before him. -Actual life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical -in the imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse -to dog the feet of sin. It was the imagination that made -each crime bear its misshapen brood. In the common world -of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. -Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. -That was all. Besides, had any stranger been prowling round -the house, he would have been seen by the servants or the keepers. -Had any footmarks been found on the flowerbeds, the gardeners -would have reported it. Yes, it had been merely fancy. -Sibyl Vane's brother had not come back to kill him. -He had sailed away in his ship to founder in some winter sea. -From him, at any rate, he was safe. Why, the man did not know -who he was, could not know who he was. The mask of youth had -saved him. -And yet if it had been merely an illusion, how terrible it -was to think that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms, -and give them visible form, and make them move before one -What sort of life would his be if, day and night, -shadows of his crime were to peer at him from silent corners, -to mock him from secret places, to whisper in his ear as he sat -at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as he lay asleep -As the thought crept through his brain, he grew pale with terror, -and the air seemed to him to have become suddenly colder. -Oh in what a wild hour of madness he had killed his friend -How ghastly the mere memory of the scene He saw it all again. -Each hideous detail came back to him with added horror. -Out of the black cave of time, terrible and swathed in scarlet, -rose the image of his sin. When Lord Henry came in at -six o'clock, he found him crying as one whose heart will -break. -It was not till the third day that he ventured to go out. -There was something in the clear, pinescented air of that -winter morning that seemed to bring him back his joyousness -and his ardour for life. But it was not merely the physical -conditions of environment that had caused the change. -His own nature had revolted against the excess of anguish -that had sought to maim and mar the perfection of its calm. -With subtle and finely wrought temperaments it is always so. -Their strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either -slay the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow -loves live on. The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed -by their own plenitude. Besides, he had convinced himself that -he had been the victim of a terrorstricken imagination, and looked -back now on his fears with something of pity and not a little -of contempt. -After breakfast, he walked with the duchess for an hour in the garden -and then drove across the park to join the shootingparty. The crisp frost -lay like salt upon the grass. The sky was an inverted cup of blue metal. -A thin film of ice bordered the flat, reedgrown lake. -At the corner of the pinewood he caught sight of Sir Geoffrey Clouston, -the duchess's brother, jerking two spent cartridges out of his gun. -He jumped from the cart, and having told the groom to take the mare home, -made his way towards his guest through the withered bracken and -rough undergrowth. -"Have you had good sport, Geoffrey?" he asked. -"Not very good, Dorian. I think most of the birds have gone to the open. -I dare say it will be better after lunch, when we get to new ground." -Dorian strolled along by his side. The keen aromatic air, -the brown and red lights that glimmered in the wood, -the hoarse cries of the beaters ringing out from time to time, -and the sharp snaps of the guns that followed, fascinated him -and filled him with a sense of delightful freedom. -He was dominated by the carelessness of happiness, by the high -indifference of joy. -Suddenly from a lumpy tussock of old grass some twenty yards in front -of them, with blacktipped ears erect and long hinder limbs throwing -it forward, started a hare. It bolted for a thicket of alders. -Sir Geoffrey put his gun to his shoulder, but there was something -in the animal's grace of movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray, -and he cried out at once, "Don't shoot it, Geoffrey. Let it live." -"What nonsense, Dorian" laughed his companion, and as the hare -bounded into the thicket, he fired. There were two cries heard, -the cry of a hare in pain, which is dreadful, the cry of a man in agony, -which is worse. -"Good heavens I have hit a beater" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey. -"What an ass the man was to get in front of the guns -Stop shooting there" he called out at the top of his voice. -"A man is hurt." -The headkeeper came running up with a stick in his hand. -"Where, sir? Where is he?" he shouted. At the same time, -the firing ceased along the line. -"Here," answered Sir Geoffrey angrily, hurrying towards the thicket. -"Why on earth don't you keep your men back? Spoiled my shooting for -the day." -Dorian watched them as they plunged into the alderclump, -brushing the lithe swinging branches aside. In a few moments -they emerged, dragging a body after them into the sunlight. -He turned away in horror. It seemed to him that misfortune -followed wherever he went. He heard Sir Geoffrey ask if the man -was really dead, and the affirmative answer of the keeper. -The wood seemed to him to have become suddenly alive with faces. -There was the trampling of myriad feet and the low buzz of voices. -A great copperbreasted pheasant came beating through the -boughs overhead. -After a few momentsthat were to him, in his perturbed state, -like endless hours of painhe felt a hand laid on his shoulder. -He started and looked round. -"Dorian," said Lord Henry, "I had better tell them that the shooting -is stopped for today. It would not look well to go on." -"I wish it were stopped for ever, Harry," he answered bitterly. -"The whole thing is hideous and cruel. Is the man ... ?" -He could not finish the sentence. -"I am afraid so," rejoined Lord Henry. "He got the whole charge of shot -in his chest. He must have died almost instantaneously. Come let us -go home." -They walked side by side in the direction of the avenue for nearly fifty -yards without speaking. Then Dorian looked at Lord Henry and said, -with a heavy sigh, "It is a bad omen, Harry, a very bad omen." -"What is?" asked Lord Henry. "Oh this accident, I suppose. -My dear fellow, it can't be helped. It was the man's own fault. -Why did he get in front of the guns? Besides, it is nothing to us. -It is rather awkward for Geoffrey, of course. It does not do to -pepper beaters. It makes people think that one is a wild shot. -And Geoffrey is not he shoots very straight. But there is no use talking -about the matter." -Dorian shook his head. "It is a bad omen, Harry. I feel -as if something horrible were going to happen to some of us. -To myself, perhaps," he added, passing his hand over his eyes, -with a gesture of pain. -The elder man laughed. "The only horrible thing in the world -is ennui, Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is -no forgiveness. But we are not likely to suffer from it unless -these fellows keep chattering about this thing at dinner. -I must tell them that the subject is to be tabooed. -As for omens, there is no such thing as an omen. -Destiny does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel -for that. Besides, what on earth could happen to you, Dorian? -You have everything in the world that a man can want. -There is no one who would not be delighted to change places -with you." -"There is no one with whom I would not change places, Harry. -Don't laugh like that. I am telling you the truth. The wretched -peasant who has just died is better off than I am. I have no -terror of death. It is the coming of death that terrifies me. -Its monstrous wings seem to wheel in the leaden air around me. -Good heavens don't you see a man moving behind the trees there, -watching me, waiting for me?" -Lord Henry looked in the direction in which the trembling gloved hand -was pointing. "Yes," he said, smiling, "I see the gardener waiting for you. -I suppose he wants to ask you what flowers you wish to have on the table -tonight. How absurdly nervous you are, my dear fellow You must come -and see my doctor, when we get back to town." -Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the gardener approaching. -The man touched his hat, glanced for a moment at Lord Henry in a -hesitating manner, and then produced a letter, which he handed -to his master. "Her Grace told me to wait for an answer," -he murmured. -Dorian put the letter into his pocket. "Tell her Grace that I am coming in," -he said, coldly. The man turned round and went rapidly in the direction of -the house. -"How fond women are of doing dangerous things" laughed Lord Henry. -"It is one of the qualities in them that I admire most. A woman -will flirt with anybody in the world as long as other people are -looking on." -"How fond you are of saying dangerous things, Harry In the present instance, -you are quite astray. I like the duchess very much, but I don't love her." -"And the duchess loves you very much, but she likes you less, -so you are excellently matched." -"You are talking scandal, Harry, and there is never any basis for scandal." -"The basis of every scandal is an immoral certainty," said Lord Henry, -lighting a cigarette. -"You would sacrifice anybody, Harry, for the sake of an epigram." -"The world goes to the altar of its own accord," was the answer. -"I wish I could love," cried Dorian Gray with a deep note -of pathos in his voice. "But I seem to have lost the passion -and forgotten the desire. I am too much concentrated on myself. -My own personality has become a burden to me. I want to escape, -to go away, to forget. It was silly of me to come down here at all. -I think I shall send a wire to Harvey to have the yacht got ready. -On a yacht one is safe." -"Safe from what, Dorian? You are in some trouble. Why not tell -me what it is? You know I would help you." -"I can't tell you, Harry," he answered sadly. "And I dare say it -is only a fancy of mine. This unfortunate accident has upset me. -I have a horrible presentiment that something of the kind may happen -to me." -"What nonsense" -"I hope it is, but I can't help feeling it. Ah here is -the duchess, looking like Artemis in a tailormade gown. -You see we have come back, Duchess." -"I have heard all about it, Mr. Gray," she answered. "Poor Geoffrey is -terribly upset. And it seems that you asked him not to shoot the hare. -How curious" -"Yes, it was very curious. I don't know what made me say it. -Some whim, I suppose. It looked the loveliest of little -live things. But I am sorry they told you about the man. -It is a hideous subject." -"It is an annoying subject," broke in Lord Henry. "It has no psychological -value at all. Now if Geoffrey had done the thing on purpose, how interesting -he would be I should like to know some one who had committed a real murder." -"How horrid of you, Harry" cried the duchess. "Isn't it, -Mr. Gray? Harry, Mr. Gray is ill again. He is going to faint." -Dorian drew himself up with an effort and smiled. "It is nothing, Duchess," -he murmured "my nerves are dreadfully out of order. That is all. -I am afraid I walked too far this morning. I didn't hear what Harry said. -Was it very bad? You must tell me some other time. I think I must go and -lie down. You will excuse me, won't you?" -They had reached the great flight of steps that led from the conservatory -on to the terrace. As the glass door closed behind Dorian, Lord Henry turned -and looked at the duchess with his slumberous eyes. "Are you very much -in love with him?" he asked. -She did not answer for some time, but stood gazing at the landscape. -"I wish I knew," she said at last. -He shook his head. "Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty -that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful." -"One may lose one's way." -"All ways end at the same point, my dear Gladys." -"What is that?" -"Disillusion." -"It was my debut in life," she sighed. -"It came to you crowned." -"I am tired of strawberry leaves." -"They become you." -"Only in public." -"You would miss them," said Lord Henry. -"I will not part with a petal." -"Monmouth has ears." -"Old age is dull of hearing." -"Has he never been jealous?" -"I wish he had been." -He glanced about as if in search of something. "What are you looking for?" -she inquired. -"The button from your foil," he answered. "You have dropped it." -She laughed. "I have still the mask." -"It makes your eyes lovelier," was his reply. -She laughed again. Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet fruit. -Upstairs, in his own room, Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa, -with terror in every tingling fibre of his body. Life had suddenly -become too hideous a burden for him to bear. The dreadful death -of the unlucky beater, shot in the thicket like a wild animal, -had seemed to him to prefigure death for himself also. -He had nearly swooned at what Lord Henry had said in a chance mood -of cynical jesting. -At five o'clock he rang his bell for his servant and gave -him orders to pack his things for the nightexpress to town, -and to have the brougham at the door by eightthirty. He -was determined not to sleep another night at Selby Royal. -It was an illomened place. Death walked there in the sunlight. -The grass of the forest had been spotted with blood. -Then he wrote a note to Lord Henry, telling him that he was going up to town -to consult his doctor and asking him to entertain his guests in his absence. -As he was putting it into the envelope, a knock came to the door, and his -valet informed him that the headkeeper wished to see him. He frowned and bit -his lip. "Send him in," he muttered, after some moments' hesitation. -As soon as the man entered, Dorian pulled his chequebook out of a drawer -and spread it out before him. -"I suppose you have come about the unfortunate accident -of this morning, Thornton?" he said, taking up a pen. -"Yes, sir," answered the gamekeeper. -"Was the poor fellow married? Had he any people dependent on him?" -asked Dorian, looking bored. "If so, I should not like them to be left -in want, and will send them any sum of money you may think necessary." -"We don't know who he is, sir. That is what I took the liberty -of coming to you about." -"Don't know who he is?" said Dorian, listlessly. "What do you mean? -Wasn't he one of your men?" -"No, sir. Never saw him before. Seems like a sailor, sir." -The pen dropped from Dorian Gray's hand, and he felt as if his -heart had suddenly stopped beating. "A sailor?" he cried out. -"Did you say a sailor?" -"Yes, sir. He looks as if he had been a sort of sailor -tattooed on both arms, and that kind of thing." -"Was there anything found on him?" said Dorian, leaning forward and looking -at the man with startled eyes. "Anything that would tell his name?" -"Some money, sirnot much, and a sixshooter. There was no name of any kind. -A decentlooking man, sir, but roughlike. A sort of sailor we think." -Dorian started to his feet. A terrible hope fluttered past him. -He clutched at it madly. "Where is the body?" he exclaimed. -"Quick I must see it at once." -"It is in an empty stable in the Home Farm, sir. The folk -don't like to have that sort of thing in their houses. -They say a corpse brings bad luck." -"The Home Farm Go there at once and meet me. Tell one of the grooms -to bring my horse round. No. Never mind. I'll go to the stables myself. -It will save time." -In less than a quarter of an hour, Dorian Gray was galloping down the long -avenue as hard as he could go. The trees seemed to sweep past him in -spectral procession, and wild shadows to fling themselves across his path. -Once the mare swerved at a white gatepost and nearly threw him. He lashed -her across the neck with his crop. She cleft the dusky air like an arrow. -The stones flew from her hoofs. -At last he reached the Home Farm. Two men were loitering in the yard. -He leaped from the saddle and threw the reins to one of them. -In the farthest stable a light was glimmering. Something seemed -to tell him that the body was there, and he hurried to the door -and put his hand upon the latch. -There he paused for a moment, feeling that he was on the brink -of a discovery that would either make or mar his life. -Then he thrust the door open and entered. -On a heap of sacking in the far corner was lying the dead body -of a man dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers. -A spotted handkerchief had been placed over the face. -A coarse candle, stuck in a bottle, sputtered beside it. -Dorian Gray shuddered. He felt that his could not be the hand to take -the handkerchief away, and called out to one of the farmservants to come -to him. -"Take that thing off the face. I wish to see it," he said, -clutching at the doorpost for support. -When the farmservant had done so, he stepped forward. -A cry of joy broke from his lips. The man who had been shot in -the thicket was James Vane. -He stood there for some minutes looking at the dead body. -As he rode home, his eyes were full of tears, for he knew -he was safe. -CHAPTER -"There is no use your telling me that you are going to be good," -cried Lord Henry, dipping his white fingers into a red copper bowl -filled with rosewater. "You are quite perfect. Pray, don't change." -Dorian Gray shook his head. "No, Harry, I have done too many -dreadful things in my life. I am not going to do any more. -I began my good actions yesterday." -"Where were you yesterday?" -"In the country, Harry. I was staying at a little inn by myself." -"My dear boy," said Lord Henry, smiling, "anybody can be good in the country. -There are no temptations there. That is the reason why people who live out -of town are so absolutely uncivilized. Civilization is not by any means an -easy thing to attain to. There are only two ways by which man can reach it. -One is by being cultured, the other by being corrupt. Country people have no -opportunity of being either, so they stagnate." -"Culture and corruption," echoed Dorian. "I have known something of both. -It seems terrible to me now that they should ever be found together. -For I have a new ideal, Harry. I am going to alter. I think I -have altered." -"You have not yet told me what your good action was. -Or did you say you had done more than one?" asked his companion -as he spilled into his plate a little crimson pyramid of seeded -strawberries and, through a perforated, shellshaped spoon, -snowed white sugar upon them. -"I can tell you, Harry. It is not a story I could tell to any one else. -I spared somebody. It sounds vain, but you understand what I mean. -She was quite beautiful and wonderfully like Sibyl Vane. I think it was -that which first attracted me to her. You remember Sibyl, don't you? -How long ago that seems Well, Hetty was not one of our own class, -of course. She was simply a girl in a village. But I really loved her. -I am quite sure that I loved her. All during this wonderful May that we -have been having, I used to run down and see her two or three times a week. -Yesterday she met me in a little orchard. The appleblossoms kept tumbling -down on her hair, and she was laughing. We were to have gone away together -this morning at dawn. Suddenly I determined to leave her as flowerlike as I -had found her." -"I should think the novelty of the emotion must have given you -a thrill of real pleasure, Dorian," interrupted Lord Henry. -"But I can finish your idyll for you. You gave her good advice -and broke her heart. That was the beginning of your reformation." -"Harry, you are horrible You mustn't say these dreadful things. -Hetty's heart is not broken. Of course, she cried and all that. -But there is no disgrace upon her. She can live, like Perdita, in her -garden of mint and marigold." -"And weep over a faithless Florizel," said Lord Henry, -laughing, as he leaned back in his chair. "My dear Dorian, -you have the most curiously boyish moods. Do you think this girl -will ever be really content now with any one of her own rank? -I suppose she will be married some day to a rough carter -or a grinning ploughman. Well, the fact of having met you, -and loved you, will teach her to despise her husband, -and she will be wretched. From a moral point of view, -I cannot say that I think much of your great renunciation. -Even as a beginning, it is poor. Besides, how do you know -that Hetty isn't floating at the present moment in some -starlit millpond, with lovely waterlilies round her, -like Ophelia?" -"I can't bear this, Harry You mock at everything, and then -suggest the most serious tragedies. I am sorry I told you now. -I don't care what you say to me. I know I was right in acting -as I did. Poor Hetty As I rode past the farm this morning, -I saw her white face at the window, like a spray of jasmine. -Don't let us talk about it any more, and don't try to persuade -me that the first good action I have done for years, -the first little bit of selfsacrifice I have ever known, -is really a sort of sin. I want to be better. -I am going to be better. Tell me something about yourself. -What is going on in town? I have not been to the club -for days." -"The people are still discussing poor Basil's disappearance." -"I should have thought they had got tired of that by this time," -said Dorian, pouring himself out some wine and frowning slightly. -"My dear boy, they have only been talking about it for six weeks, -and the British public are really not equal to the mental -strain of having more than one topic every three months. -They have been very fortunate lately, however. They have -had my own divorcecase and Alan Campbell's suicide. -Now they have got the mysterious disappearance of an artist. -Scotland Yard still insists that the man in the grey ulster -who left for Paris by the midnight train on the ninth of November -was poor Basil, and the French police declare that Basil never -arrived in Paris at all. I suppose in about a fortnight we shall -be told that he has been seen in San Francisco. It is an odd thing, -but every one who disappears is said to be seen at San Francisco. -It must be a delightful city, and possess all the attractions -of the next world." -"What do you think has happened to Basil?" asked Dorian, -holding up his Burgundy against the light and wondering how it -was that he could discuss the matter so calmly. -"I have not the slightest idea. If Basil chooses to hide himself, -it is no business of mine. If he is dead, I don't want to think -about him. Death is the only thing that ever terrifies me. -I hate it." -"Why?" said the younger man wearily. -"Because," said Lord Henry, passing beneath his nostrils the gilt trellis -of an open vinaigrette box, "one can survive everything nowadays except that. -Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in the nineteenth century that one -cannot explain away. Let us have our coffee in the musicroom, Dorian. -You must play Chopin to me. The man with whom my wife ran away played -Chopin exquisitely. Poor Victoria I was very fond of her. The house -is rather lonely without her. Of course, married life is merely a habit, -a bad habit. But then one regrets the loss even of one's worst habits. -Perhaps one regrets them the most. They are such an essential part of -one's personality." -Dorian said nothing, but rose from the table, and passing into the next room, -sat down to the piano and let his fingers stray across the white and black -ivory of the keys. After the coffee had been brought in, he stopped, -and looking over at Lord Henry, said, "Harry, did it ever occur to you that -Basil was murdered?" -Lord Henry yawned. "Basil was very popular, and always -wore a Waterbury watch. Why should he have been murdered? -He was not clever enough to have enemies. Of course, -he had a wonderful genius for painting. But a man can -paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. -Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, -and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild -adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of -his art." -"I was very fond of Basil," said Dorian with a note of sadness in his voice. -"But don't people say that he was murdered?" -"Oh, some of the papers do. It does not seem to me to be at all probable. -I know there are dreadful places in Paris, but Basil was not the sort of man -to have gone to them. He had no curiosity. It was his chief defect." -"What would you say, Harry, if I told you that I had murdered Basil?" -said the younger man. He watched him intently after he had spoken. -"I would say, my dear fellow, that you were posing for a character -that doesn't suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity -is crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. -I am sorry if I hurt your vanity by saying so, but I assure you -it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders. -I don't blame them in the smallest degree. I should fancy that -crime was to them what art is to us, simply a method of procuring -extraordinary sensations." -"A method of procuring sensations? Do you think, then, that a man -who has once committed a murder could possibly do the same crime again? -Don't tell me that." -"Oh anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often," -cried Lord Henry, laughing. "That is one of the most important secrets -of life. I should fancy, however, that murder is always a mistake. -One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner. -But let us pass from poor Basil. I wish I could believe that he had -come to such a really romantic end as you suggest, but I can't. I -dare say he fell into the Seine off an omnibus and that the conductor -hushed up the scandal. Yes I should fancy that was his end. -I see him lying now on his back under those dullgreen waters, -with the heavy barges floating over him and long weeds catching -in his hair. Do you know, I don't think he would have done much -more good work. During the last ten years his painting had gone off -very much." -Dorian heaved a sigh, and Lord Henry strolled across the room -and began to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot, a large, -greyplumaged bird with pink crest and tail, that was balancing -itself upon a bamboo perch. As his pointed fingers touched it, -it dropped the white scurf of crinkled lids over black, -glasslike eyes and began to sway backwards and forwards. -"Yes," he continued, turning round and taking his handkerchief -out of his pocket "his painting had quite gone off. -It seemed to me to have lost something. It had lost an ideal. -When you and he ceased to be great friends, he ceased to be a -great artist. What was it separated you? I suppose he bored you. -If so, he never forgave you. It's a habit bores have. -By the way, what has become of that wonderful portrait -he did of you? I don't think I have ever seen it since -he finished it. Oh I remember your telling me years ago -that you had sent it down to Selby, and that it had got mislaid -or stolen on the way. You never got it back? What a pity -it was really a masterpiece. I remember I wanted to buy it. -I wish I had now. It belonged to Basil's best period. -Since then, his work was that curious mixture of bad painting -and good intentions that always entitles a man to be called -a representative British artist. Did you advertise for it? -You should." -"I forget," said Dorian. "I suppose I did. But I never really liked it. -I am sorry I sat for it. The memory of the thing is hateful to me. -Why do you talk of it? It used to remind me of those curious lines -in some playHamlet, I thinkhow do they run? -"Like the painting of a sorrow, -A face without a heart." -Yes that is what it was like." -Lord Henry laughed. "If a man treats life artistically, -his brain is his heart," he answered, sinking into an armchair. -Dorian Gray shook his head and struck some soft chords on the piano. -"'Like the painting of a sorrow,'" he repeated, "'a face without -a heart.'" -The elder man lay back and looked at him with halfclosed eyes. -"By the way, Dorian," he said after a pause, "'what does it profit -a man if he gain the whole world and losehow does the quotation run? -his own soul'?" -The music jarred, and Dorian Gray started and stared at his friend. -"Why do you ask me that, Harry?" -"My dear fellow," said Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows in surprise, -"I asked you because I thought you might be able to give me an answer. -That is all. I was going through the park last Sunday, and close by the -Marble Arch there stood a little crowd of shabbylooking people listening -to some vulgar streetpreacher. As I passed by, I heard the man yelling -out that question to his audience. It struck me as being rather dramatic. -London is very rich in curious effects of that kind. A wet Sunday, -an uncouth Christian in a mackintosh, a ring of sickly white faces under -a broken roof of dripping umbrellas, and a wonderful phrase flung into -the air by shrill hysterical lipsit was really very good in its way, -quite a suggestion. I thought of telling the prophet that art had -a soul, but that man had not. I am afraid, however, he would not have -understood me." -"Don't, Harry. The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought, -and sold, and bartered away. It can be poisoned, or made perfect. -There is a soul in each one of us. I know it." -"Do you feel quite sure of that, Dorian?" -"Quite sure." -"Ah then it must be an illusion. The things one feels -absolutely certain about are never true. That is the fatality -of faith, and the lesson of romance. How grave you are -Don't be so serious. What have you or I to do with the superstitions -of our age? No we have given up our belief in the soul. -Play me something. Play me a nocturne, Dorian, and, as you play, -tell me, in a low voice, how you have kept your youth. -You must have some secret. I am only ten years older than -you are, and I am wrinkled, and worn, and yellow. You are -really wonderful, Dorian. You have never looked more charming -than you do tonight. You remind me of the day I saw you first. -You were rather cheeky, very shy, and absolutely extraordinary. -You have changed, of course, but not in appearance. -I wish you would tell me your secret. To get back my youth -I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, -get up early, or be respectable. Youth There is nothing -like it. It's absurd to talk of the ignorance of youth. -The only people to whose opinions I listen now with any respect -are people much younger than myself. They seem in front of me. -Life has revealed to them her latest wonder. As for the aged, -I always contradict the aged. I do it on principle. -If you ask them their opinion on something that happened yesterday, -they solemnly give you the opinions current in , -when people wore high stocks, believed in everything, and knew -absolutely nothing. How lovely that thing you are playing is -I wonder, did Chopin write it at Majorca, with the sea weeping -round the villa and the salt spray dashing against the panes? -It is marvellously romantic. What a blessing it is -that there is one art left to us that is not imitative -Don't stop. I want music tonight. It seems to me that you -are the young Apollo and that I am Marsyas listening to you. -I have sorrows, Dorian, of my own, that even you know nothing of. -The tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one -is young. I am amazed sometimes at my own sincerity. -Ah, Dorian, how happy you are What an exquisite life -you have had You have drunk deeply of everything. -You have crushed the grapes against your palate. Nothing has -been hidden from you. And it has all been to you no more than -the sound of music. It has not marred you. You are still the -same." -"I am not the same, Harry." -"Yes, you are the same. I wonder what the rest of your life will be. -Don't spoil it by renunciations. At present you are a perfect type. -Don't make yourself incomplete. You are quite flawless now. -You need not shake your head you know you are. Besides, Dorian, -don't deceive yourself. Life is not governed by will or intention. -Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly builtup -cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. -You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance -tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume -that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, -a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, -a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play -I tell you, Dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend. -Browning writes about that somewhere but our own senses will imagine -them for us. There are moments when the odour of lilas blanc passes -suddenly across me, and I have to live the strangest month of my life -over again. I wish I could change places with you, Dorian. The world -has cried out against us both, but it has always worshipped you. -It always will worship you. You are the type of what the age -is searching for, and what it is afraid it has found. I am -so glad that you have never done anything, never carved a statue, -or painted a picture, or produced anything outside of yourself -Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are -your sonnets." -Dorian rose up from the piano and passed his hand through his hair. -"Yes, life has been exquisite," he murmured, "but I am not going -to have the same life, Harry. And you must not say these -extravagant things to me. You don't know everything about me. -I think that if you did, even you would turn from me. You laugh. -Don't laugh." -"Why have you stopped playing, Dorian? Go back and give me -the nocturne over again. Look at that great, honeycoloured moon -that hangs in the dusky air. She is waiting for you to charm her, -and if you play she will come closer to the earth. You won't? -Let us go to the club, then. It has been a charming evening, -and we must end it charmingly. There is some one at White's who wants -immensely to know youyoung Lord Poole, Bournemouth's eldest son. -He has already copied your neckties, and has begged me to introduce -him to you. He is quite delightful and rather reminds me of you." -"I hope not," said Dorian with a sad look in his eyes. -"But I am tired tonight, Harry. I shan't go to the club. -It is nearly eleven, and I want to go to bed early." -"Do stay. You have never played so well as tonight. There was something -in your touch that was wonderful. It had more expression than I had ever -heard from it before." -"It is because I am going to be good," he answered, smiling. -"I am a little changed already." -"You cannot change to me, Dorian," said Lord Henry. "You and I will always -be friends." -"Yet you poisoned me with a book once. I should not forgive that. -Harry, promise me that you will never lend that book to any one. -It does harm." -"My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralize. You will -soon be going about like the converted, and the revivalist, -warning people against all the sins of which you have grown tired. -You are much too delightful to do that. Besides, it is no use. -You and I are what we are, and will be what we will be. -As for being poisoned by a book, there is no such thing as that. -Art has no influence upon action. It annihilates the desire -to act. It is superbly sterile. The books that the world -calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame. -That is all. But we won't discuss literature. Come round -tomorrow. I am going to ride at eleven. We might go together, -and I will take you to lunch afterwards with Lady Branksome. -She is a charming woman, and wants to consult you about some -tapestries she is thinking of buying. Mind you come. Or shall we -lunch with our little duchess? She says she never sees you now. -Perhaps you are tired of Gladys? I thought you would be. -Her clever tongue gets on one's nerves. Well, in any case, be here at -eleven." -"Must I really come, Harry?" -"Certainly. The park is quite lovely now. I don't think there -have been such lilacs since the year I met you." -"Very well. I shall be here at eleven," said Dorian. -"Good night, Harry." As he reached the door, he hesitated -for a moment, as if he had something more to say. Then he sighed -and went out. -CHAPTER -It was a lovely night, so warm that he threw his coat over his arm and did -not even put his silk scarf round his throat. As he strolled home, -smoking his cigarette, two young men in evening dress passed him. -He heard one of them whisper to the other, "That is Dorian Gray." -He remembered how pleased he used to be when he was pointed out, -or stared at, or talked about. He was tired of hearing his own name now. -Half the charm of the little village where he had been so often lately -was that no one knew who he was. He had often told the girl whom -he had lured to love him that he was poor, and she had believed him. -He had told her once that he was wicked, and she had laughed at him -and answered that wicked people were always very old and very ugly. -What a laugh she hadjust like a thrush singing. And how pretty she had -been in her cotton dresses and her large hats She knew nothing, but she had -everything that he had lost. -When he reached home, he found his servant waiting up for him. -He sent him to bed, and threw himself down on the sofa in the library, -and began to think over some of the things that Lord Henry had said -to him. -Was it really true that one could never change? He felt -a wild longing for the unstained purity of his boyhood -his rosewhite boyhood, as Lord Henry had once called it. -He knew that he had tarnished himself, filled his mind with -corruption and given horror to his fancy that he had been -an evil influence to others, and had experienced a terrible joy -in being so and that of the lives that had crossed his own, -it had been the fairest and the most full of promise that -he had brought to shame. But was it all irretrievable? -Was there no hope for him? -Ah in what a monstrous moment of pride and passion he had -prayed that the portrait should bear the burden of his days, -and he keep the unsullied splendour of eternal youth -All his failure had been due to that. Better for him that each sin -of his life had brought its sure swift penalty along with it. -There was purification in punishment. Not "Forgive us our sins" -but "Smite us for our iniquities" should be the prayer of man to a -most just God. -The curiously carved mirror that Lord Henry had given -to him, so many years ago now, was standing on the table, -and the whitelimbed Cupids laughed round it as of old. -He took it up, as he had done on that night of horror -when he had first noted the change in the fatal picture, -and with wild, teardimmed eyes looked into its polished shield. -Once, some one who had terribly loved him had written -to him a mad letter, ending with these idolatrous words -"The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. -The curves of your lips rewrite history." The phrases came back -to his memory, and he repeated them over and over to himself. -Then he loathed his own beauty, and flinging the mirror on -the floor, crushed it into silver splinters beneath his heel. -It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty and the youth -that he had prayed for. But for those two things, his life -might have been free from stain. His beauty had been to him -but a mask, his youth but a mockery. What was youth at best? -A green, an unripe time, a time of shallow moods, -and sickly thoughts. Why had he worn its livery? Youth had -spoiled him. -It was better not to think of the past. Nothing could alter that. -It was of himself, and of his own future, that he had to think. -James Vane was hidden in a nameless grave in Selby churchyard. -Alan Campbell had shot himself one night in his laboratory, -but had not revealed the secret that he had been forced to know. -The excitement, such as it was, over Basil Hallward's -disappearance would soon pass away. It was already waning. -He was perfectly safe there. Nor, indeed, was it the death -of Basil Hallward that weighed most upon his mind. -It was the living death of his own soul that troubled him. -Basil had painted the portrait that had marred his life. -He could not forgive him that. It was the portrait that had -done everything. Basil had said things to him that were unbearable, -and that he had yet borne with patience. The murder had -been simply the madness of a moment. As for Alan Campbell, -his suicide had been his own act. He had chosen to do it. -It was nothing to him. -A new life That was what he wanted. That was what he was waiting for. -Surely he had begun it already. He had spared one innocent thing, -at any rate. He would never again tempt innocence. He would be good. -As he thought of Hetty Merton, he began to wonder if the portrait in the -locked room had changed. Surely it was not still so horrible as it had been? -Perhaps if his life became pure, he would be able to expel every sign of evil -passion from the face. Perhaps the signs of evil had already gone away. -He would go and look. -He took the lamp from the table and crept upstairs. As he unbarred the door, -a smile of joy flitted across his strangely younglooking face and lingered -for a moment about his lips. Yes, he would be good, and the hideous thing -that he had hidden away would no longer be a terror to him. He felt as if -the load had been lifted from him already. -He went in quietly, locking the door behind him, as was -his custom, and dragged the purple hanging from the portrait. -A cry of pain and indignation broke from him. He could see -no change, save that in the eyes there was a look of cunning -and in the mouth the curved wrinkle of the hypocrite. -The thing was still loathsomemore loathsome, if possible, -than beforeand the scarlet dew that spotted the hand -seemed brighter, and more like blood newly spilled. -Then he trembled. Had it been merely vanity that had made -him do his one good deed? Or the desire for a new sensation, -as Lord Henry had hinted, with his mocking laugh? -Or that passion to act a part that sometimes makes us do -things finer than we are ourselves? Or, perhaps, all these? -And why was the red stain larger than it had been? It seemed -to have crept like a horrible disease over the wrinkled fingers. -There was blood on the painted feet, as though the thing -had drippedblood even on the hand that had not held -the knife. Confess? Did it mean that he was to confess? -To give himself up and be put to death? He laughed. -He felt that the idea was monstrous. Besides, even if -he did confess, who would believe him? There was no trace -of the murdered man anywhere. Everything belonging to him -had been destroyed. He himself had burned what had been -belowstairs. The world would simply say that he was mad. -They would shut him up if he persisted in his story. -. . . Yet it was his duty to confess, to suffer public shame, -and to make public atonement. There was a God who called -upon men to tell their sins to earth as well as to heaven. -Nothing that he could do would cleanse him till he had -told his own sin. His sin? He shrugged his shoulders. -The death of Basil Hallward seemed very little to him. -He was thinking of Hetty Merton. For it was an unjust mirror, -this mirror of his soul that he was looking at. -Vanity? Curiosity? Hypocrisy? Had there been nothing more -in his renunciation than that? There had been something more. -At least he thought so. But who could tell? . . . No. There -had been nothing more. Through vanity he had spared her. -In hypocrisy he had worn the mask of goodness. For curiosity's -sake he had tried the denial of self. He recognized that -now. -But this murderwas it to dog him all his life? Was he always to be -burdened by his past? Was he really to confess? Never. There was -only one bit of evidence left against him. The picture itself -that was evidence. He would destroy it. Why had he kept it so long? -Once it had given him pleasure to watch it changing and growing old. -Of late he had felt no such pleasure. It had kept him awake at night. -When he had been away, he had been filled with terror lest other eyes -should look upon it. It had brought melancholy across his passions. -Its mere memory had marred many moments of joy. It had been -like conscience to him. Yes, it had been conscience. He would -destroy it. -He looked round and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. -He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. -It was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter, -so it would kill the painter's work, and all that that meant. -It would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free. -It would kill this monstrous soullife, and without its hideous warnings, -he would be at peace. He seized the thing, and stabbed the picture -with it. -There was a cry heard, and a crash. The cry was so horrible -in its agony that the frightened servants woke and crept -out of their rooms. Two gentlemen, who were passing in -the square below, stopped and looked up at the great house. -They walked on till they met a policeman and brought him back. -The man rang the bell several times, but there was no answer. -Except for a light in one of the top windows, the house was all dark. -After a time, he went away and stood in an adjoining portico -and watched. -"Whose house is that, Constable?" asked the elder of the two gentlemen. -"Mr. Dorian Gray's, sir," answered the policeman. -They looked at each other, as they walked away, and sneered. -One of them was Sir Henry Ashton's uncle. -Inside, in the servants' part of the house, the halfclad -domestics were talking in low whispers to each other. -Old Mrs. Leaf was crying and wringing her hands. Francis was -as pale as death. -After about a quarter of an hour, he got the coachman and one of the footmen -and crept upstairs. They knocked, but there was no reply. They called out. -Everything was still. Finally, after vainly trying to force the door, -they got on the roof and dropped down on to the balcony. The windows -yielded easilytheir bolts were old. -When they entered, they found hanging upon the wall a splendid -portrait of their master as they had last seen him, in all -the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty. Lying on the floor -was a dead man, in evening dress, with a knife in his heart. -He was withered, wrinkled, and loathsome of visage. -It was not till they had examined the rings that they -recognized who it was. -End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Dorian Gray -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dracula, by Bram Stoker -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. -Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts -eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since -These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers -Title Dracula -Author Bram Stoker -Release Date October, [EBook ] -[Most recently updated August , ] -Edition -Language English -Character set encoding USASCII - START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DRACULA -Etext revised by Voltage Spike -DRACULA -by -Bram Stoker - edition -CHAPTER -Jonathan Harker's Journal - May. Bistritz.Left Munich at P.M., on st May, arriving at -Vienna early next morning should have arrived at , but train was -an hour late. BudaPesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse -which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through -the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had -arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. -The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the -East the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is -here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish -rule. -We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh. -Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner, -or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which -was very good but thirsty. Mem. get recipe for Mina. I asked the -waiter, and he said it was called "paprika hendl," and that, as it was -a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the -Carpathians. -I found my smattering of German very useful here, indeed, I don't know -how I should be able to get on without it. -Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the -British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the -library regarding Transylvania it had struck me that some -foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance -in dealing with a nobleman of that country. -I find that the district he named is in the extreme east of the -country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia, -and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains one of the -wildest and least known portions of Europe. -I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality -of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to -compare with our own Ordance Survey Maps but I found that Bistritz, -the post town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly wellknown place. I -shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when -I talk over my travels with Mina. -In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct -nationalities Saxons in the South, and mixed with them the Wallachs, -who are the descendants of the Dacians Magyars in the West, and -Szekelys in the East and North. I am going among the latter, who -claim to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for -when the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they -found the Huns settled in it. -I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the -horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of -imaginative whirlpool if so my stay may be very interesting. Mem., -I must ask the Count all about them. -I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had -all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my -window, which may have had something to do with it or it may have -been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, -and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the -continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping -soundly then. -I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize -flour which they said was "mamaliga", and eggplant stuffed with -forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata". Mem., -get recipe for this also. -I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little before eight, -or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to the station -at I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour before we -began to move. -It seems to me that the further east you go the more unpunctual are -the trains. What ought they to be in China? -All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of -beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the -top of steep hills such as we see in old missals sometimes we ran by -rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each -side of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, -and running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. -At every station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in -all sorts of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home -or those I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets, -and round hats, and homemade trousers but others were very -picturesque. -The women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were -very clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some -kind or other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of -something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of -course there were petticoats under them. -The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, who were more barbarian -than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great baggy dirtywhite -trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly -a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore high boots, -with their trousers tucked into them, and had long black hair and -heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look -prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at once as some -old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am told, very -harmless and rather wanting in natural selfassertion. -It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is -a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontierfor -the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovinait has had a very stormy -existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a -series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five -separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century -it underwent a siege of three weeks and lost , people, the -casualties of war proper being assisted by famine and disease. -Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I -found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly oldfashioned, for of -course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. -I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a -cheerylooking elderly woman in the usual peasant dresswhite -undergarment with a long double apron, front, and back, of coloured -stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she -bowed and said, "The Herr Englishman?" -"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker." -She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white -shirtsleeves, who had followed her to the door. -He went, but immediately returned with a letter -"My friend.Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting -you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will -start for Bukovina a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo -Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust -that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you -will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.Your friend, Dracula." - MayI found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, -directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me but on -making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and -pretended that he could not understand my German. -This could not be true, because up to then he had understood it -perfectly at least, he answered my questions exactly as if he did. -He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each -other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled out that the money had -been sent in a letter, and that was all he knew. When I asked him if -he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both -he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing -at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of -starting that I had no time to ask anyone else, for it was all very -mysterious and not by any means comforting. -Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in -a hysterical way "Must you go? Oh Young Herr, must you go?" She -was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of -what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language -which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking -many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I -was engaged on important business, she asked again -"Do you know what day it is?" I answered that it was the fourth of -May. She shook her head as she said again -"Oh, yes I know that I know that, but do you know what day it is?" -On my saying that I did not understand, she went on -"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that tonight, -when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will -have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are -going to?" She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort -her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and -implored me not to go at least to wait a day or two before starting. -It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, -there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere -with it. -I tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I -thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. -She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck -offered it to me. -I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been -taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it -seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such -a state of mind. -She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round -my neck and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room. -I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting for the -coach, which is, of course, late and the crucifix is still round my -neck. -Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many ghostly traditions of -this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not know, but I am not -feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. -If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my -goodbye. Here comes the coach - May. The Castle.The gray of the morning has passed, and the sun -is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with -trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and -little are mixed. -I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake, naturally -I write till sleep comes. -There are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may -fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down my -dinner exactly. -I dined on what they called "robber steak"bits of bacon, onion, and -beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks, and roasted over -the fire, in simple style of the London cat's meat -The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the -tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable. -I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else. -When I got on the coach, the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw -him talking to the landlady. -They were evidently talking of me, for every now and then they looked -at me, and some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside -the doorcame and listened, and then looked at me, most of them -pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, -for there were many nationalities in the crowd, so I quietly got my -polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out. -I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them were -"Ordog"Satan, "Pokol"hell, "stregoica"witch, "vrolok" and -"vlkoslak"both mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other -Servian for something that is either werewolf or vampire. Mem., I -must ask the Count about these superstitions. -When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this time -swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and -pointed two fingers towards me. -With some difficulty, I got a fellow passenger to tell me what they -meant. He would not answer at first, but on learning that I was -English, he explained that it was a charm or guard against the evil -eye. -This was not very pleasant for me, just starting for an unknown place -to meet an unknown man. But everyone seemed so kindhearted, and so -sorrowful, and so sympathetic that I could not but be touched. -I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn yard and -its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing themselves, as they -stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of -oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the -yard. -Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered the whole front of -the boxseat,"gotza" they call themcracked his big whip over his -four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on our journey. -I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of -the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or -rather languages, which my fellowpassengers were speaking, I might -not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green -sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep -hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank -gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of -fruit blossomapple, plum, pear, cherry. And as we drove by I could -see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. -In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the -"Mittel Land" ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy -curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which -here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road -was rugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. -I could not understand then what the haste meant, but the driver was -evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told -that this road is in summertime excellent, but that it had not yet -been put in order after the winter snows. In this respect it is -different from the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it is -an old tradition that they are not to be kept in too good order. Of -old the Hospadars would not repair them, lest the Turk should think -that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops, and so hasten the -war which was always really at loading point. -Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes -of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right -and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon -them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful -range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and -brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of -jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the -distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed -mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to -sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of -my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and -opened up the lofty, snowcovered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as -we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us. -"Look Isten szek""God's seat"and he crossed himself reverently. -As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower -behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This -was emphasized by the fact that the snowy mountaintop still held the -sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and -there we passed Cszeks and slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I -noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were -many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed -themselves. Here and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before -a shrine, who did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in -the selfsurrender of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the -outer world. There were many things new to me. For instance, -hayricks in the trees, and here and there very beautiful masses of -weeping birch, their white stems shining like silver through the -delicate green of the leaves. -Now and again we passed a leiterwagonthe ordinary peasants's -cartwith its long, snakelike vertebra, calculated to suit the -inequalities of the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a -group of homecoming peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the -Slovaks with their coloured sheepskins, the latter carrying -lancefashion their long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell -it began to get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge -into one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, -though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, -as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and -there against the background of latelying snow. Sometimes, as the -road was cut through the pine woods that seemed in the darkness to be -closing down upon us, great masses of greyness which here and there -bestrewed the trees, produced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, -which carried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in -the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the -ghostlike clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind -ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the hills were so steep -that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could only go slowly. I -wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home, but the driver -would not hear of it. "No, no," he said. "You must not walk here. -The dogs are too fierce." And then he added, with what he evidently -meant for grim pleasantryfor he looked round to catch the approving -smile of the rest"And you may have enough of such matters before you -go to sleep." The only stop he would make was a moment's pause to -light his lamps. -When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the -passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as -though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully -with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on -to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of -patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the -hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater. The crazy -coach rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat -tossed on a stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, -and we appeared to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come -nearer to us on each side and to frown down upon us. We were entering -on the Borgo Pass. One by one several of the passengers offered me -gifts, which they pressed upon me with an earnestness which would take -no denial. These were certainly of an odd and varied kind, but each -was given in simple good faith, with a kindly word, and a blessing, -and that same strange mixture of fearmeaning movements which I had -seen outside the hotel at Bistritzthe sign of the cross and the -guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned -forward, and on each side the passengers, craning over the edge of the -coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was evident that -something very exciting was either happening or expected, but though I -asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest explanation. -This state of excitement kept on for some little time. And at last we -saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern side. There were -dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive -sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain range had -separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into the thunderous -one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance which was to -take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the glare of -lamps through the blackness, but all was dark. The only light was the -flickering rays of our own lamps, in which the steam from our -harddriven horses rose in a white cloud. We could see now the sandy -road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle. -The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock -my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, -when the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something -which I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a -tone, I thought it was "An hour less than the time." Then turning to -me, he spoke in German worse than my own. -"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all. He -will now come on to Bukovina, and return tomorrow or the next day, -better the next day." Whilst he was speaking the horses began to -neigh and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them -up. Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a -universal crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove -up behind us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see -from the flash of our lamps as the rays fell on them, that the horses -were coalblack and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, -with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide -his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright -eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. -He said to the driver, "You are early tonight, my friend." -The man stammered in reply, "The English Herr was in a hurry." -To which the stranger replied, "That is why, I suppose, you wished him -to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend. I know too -much, and my horses are swift." -As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hardlooking mouth, -with very red lips and sharplooking teeth, as white as ivory. One of -my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's "Lenore". -"Denn die Todten reiten Schnell." "For the dead travel fast." -The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a -gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time -putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's -luggage," said the driver, and with exceeding alacrity my bags were -handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of -the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me -with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel. His strength must -have been prodigious. -Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept -into the darkness of the pass. As I looked back I saw the steam from -the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps, and projected -against it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves. -Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off -they swept on their way to Bukovina. As they sank into the darkness I -felt a strange chill, and a lonely feeling come over me. But a cloak -was thrown over my shoulders, and a rug across my knees, and the -driver said in excellent German"The night is chill, mein Herr, and -my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of -slivovitz the plum brandy of the country underneath the seat, if you -should require it." -I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was there all the -same. I felt a little strangely, and not a little frightened. I -think had there been any alternative I should have taken it, instead -of prosecuting that unknown night journey. The carriage went at a -hard pace straight along, then we made a complete turn and went along -another straight road. It seemed to me that we were simply going over -and over the same ground again, and so I took note of some salient -point, and found that this was so. I would have liked to have asked -the driver what this all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I -thought that, placed as I was, any protest would have had no effect in -case there had been an intention to delay. -Byandby, however, as I was curious to know how time was passing, I -struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch. It was within a -few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose -the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent -experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense. -Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road, a -long, agonized wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by -another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind -which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which -seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination -could grasp it through the gloom of the night. -At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver -spoke to them soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and -sweated as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off -in the distance, from the mountains on each side of us began a louder -and a sharper howling, that of wolves, which affected both the horses -and myself in the same way. For I was minded to jump from the caleche -and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that the -driver had to use all his great strength to keep them from bolting. -In a few minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, -and the horses so far became quiet that the driver was able to descend -and to stand before them. -He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their ears, as -I have heard of horsetamers doing, and with extraordinary effect, for -under his caresses they became quite manageable again, though they -still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking his -reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the far -side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which ran -sharply to the right. -Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over -the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel. And again great -frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in -shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled -through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as -we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery -snow began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered -with a white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the -dogs, though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of -the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing -round on us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses -shared my fear. The driver, however, was not in the least disturbed. -He kept turning his head to left and right, but I could not see -anything through the darkness. -Suddenly, away on our left I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The -driver saw it at the same moment. He at once checked the horses, and, -jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know -what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer. But -while I wondered, the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a -word took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have -fallen asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be -repeated endlessly, and now looking back, it is like a sort of awful -nightmare. Once the flame appeared so near the road, that even in the -darkness around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went -rapidly to where the blue flame arose, it must have been very faint, -for it did not seem to illumine the place around it at all, and -gathering a few stones, formed them into some device. -Once there appeared a strange optical effect. When he stood between -me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly -flicker all the same. This startled me, but as the effect was only -momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through the -darkness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and we sped -onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the wolves around us, -as though they were following in a moving circle. -At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he -had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble -worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see -any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether. -But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared -behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pineclad rock, and by its -light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling -red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a -hundred times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than -even when they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of -fear. It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such -horrors that he can understand their true import. -All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had -some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and -looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to -see. But the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, -and they had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman -to come, for it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break -out through the ring and to aid his approach, I shouted and beat the -side of the caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from the -side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came -there, I know not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious -command, and looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. -As he swept his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable -obstacle, the wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a -heavy cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that we were again -in darkness. -When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and -the wolves disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a -dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The -time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost -complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. -We kept on ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in -the main always ascending. Suddenly, I became conscious of the fact -that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the -courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came -no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line -against the sky. -CHAPTER -Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued - May.I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully -awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. In -the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several -dark ways led from it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed -bigger than it really is. I have not yet been able to see it by -daylight. -When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand -to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigious -strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could have -crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took my traps, and placed them -on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old and -studded with large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway of -massive stone. I could see even in the dim light that the stone was -massively carved, but that the carving had been much worn by time and -weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shook -the reins. The horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared -down one of the dark openings. -I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of -bell or knocker there was no sign. Through these frowning walls and -dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate. -The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding -upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of -people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? -Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor's clerk sent -out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? -Solicitor's clerk Mina would not like that. Solicitor, for just -before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful, -and I am now a fullblown solicitor I began to rub my eyes and pinch -myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible -nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find -myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I -had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my -flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be -deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could -do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of morning. -Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching -behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a -coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the -clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud -grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back. -Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white -moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck -of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver -lamp, in which the flame burned without a chimney or globe of any -kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught -of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with -a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange -intonation. -"Welcome to my house Enter freely and of your own free will" He -made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as -though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, -however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively -forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which -made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it -seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead than a living man. -Again he said, -"Welcome to my house Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something -of the happiness you bring" The strength of the handshake was so -much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had -not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person -to whom I was speaking. So to make sure, I said interrogatively, -"Count Dracula?" -He bowed in a courtly way as he replied, "I am Dracula, and I bid you -welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in, the night air is chill, -and you must need to eat and rest." As he was speaking, he put the lamp -on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage. He had -carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested, but he -insisted. -"Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not -available. Let me see to your comfort myself." He insisted on carrying -my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and -along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang -heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I -rejoiced to see within a welllit room in which a table was spread for -supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly -replenished, flamed and flared. -The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing -the room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room -lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. -Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to -enter. It was a welcome sight. For here was a great bedroom well -lighted and warmed with another log fire, also added to but lately, -for the top logs were fresh, which sent a hollow roar up the wide -chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, -saying, before he closed the door. -"You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your -toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come -into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared." -The light and warmth and the Count's courteous welcome seemed to have -dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal -state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger. So making a -hasty toilet, I went into the other room. -I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of -the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful -wave of his hand to the table, and said, -"I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will I trust, -excuse me that I do not join you, but I have dined already, and I do -not sup." -I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had entrusted to -me. He opened it and read it gravely. Then, with a charming smile, -he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a -thrill of pleasure. -"I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a -constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for -some time to come. But I am happy to say I can send a sufficient -substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a -young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very -faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into -manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you -will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all -matters." -The count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I -fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese -and a salad and a bottle of old tokay, of which I had two glasses, was -my supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked me many -questions as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I had -experienced. -By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host's desire had -drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he -offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. -I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found him of a very -marked physiognomy. -His face was a strong, a very strong, aquiline, with high bridge of -the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils, with lofty domed -forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely -elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the -nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. -The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was -fixed and rather cruellooking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth. -These protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed -astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears -were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed. The chin was broad and -strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one -of extraordinary pallor. -Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees -in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine. But -seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were -rather coarse, broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were -hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and -cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands -touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his -breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, -do what I would, I could not conceal. -The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back. And with a grim sort of -smile, which showed more than he had yet done his protruberant teeth, -sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both -silent for a while, and as I looked towards the window I saw the first -dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over -everything. But as I listened, I heard as if from down below in the -valley the howling of many wolves. The Count's eyes gleamed, and he -said. -"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make" -Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he -added, "Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the -feelings of the hunter." Then he rose and said. -"But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you -shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the -afternoon, so sleep well and dream well" With a courteous bow, he -opened for me himself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my -bedroom. -I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I think strange -things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only -for the sake of those dear to me - May.It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the -last twentyfour hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of my -own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we -had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot -by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, -on which was written"I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait -for me. D." I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I -looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had -finished, but I could not find one. There are certainly odd -deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of -wealth which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so -beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains -and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my bed are -of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must have been of -fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old, though -in excellent order. I saw something like them in Hampton Court, but -they were worn and frayed and motheaten. But still in none of the -rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on my -table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before I -could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant -anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of -wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal, I do not know whether -to call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six -o'clock when I had it, I looked about for something to read, for I did -not like to go about the castle until I had asked the Count's -permission. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, -newspaper, or even writing materials, so I opened another door in the -room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but -found locked. -In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English -books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and -newspapers. A table in the centre was littered with English magazines -and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The -books were of the most varied kind, history, geography, politics, -political economy, botany, geology, law, all relating to England and -English life and customs and manners. There were even such books of -reference as the London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue" books, -Whitaker's Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and it somehow gladdened -my heart to see it, the Law List. -Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count -entered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a -good night's rest. Then he went on. -"I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much -that will interest you. These companions," and he laid his hand on -some of the books, "have been good friends to me, and for some years -past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me -many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your -great England, and to know her is to love her. I long to go through -the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the -whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, -and all that makes it what it is. But alas As yet I only know your -tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to -speak." -"But, Count," I said, "You know and speak English thoroughly" He -bowed gravely. -"I thank you, my friend, for your all tooflattering estimate, but yet -I fear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I -know the grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them." -"Indeed," I said, "You speak excellently." -"Not so," he answered. "Well, I know that, did I move and speak in -your London, none there are who would not know me for a stranger. That -is not enough for me. Here I am noble. I am a Boyar. The common -people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he -is no one. Men know him not, and to know not is to care not for. I -am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he sees me, -or pauses in his speaking if he hears my words, 'Ha, ha A stranger' -I have been so long master that I would be master still, or at least -that none other should be master of me. You come to me not alone as -agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my -new estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me a while, -so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation. And I -would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my -speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long today, but you -will, I know forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand." -Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I might -come into that room when I chose. He answered, "Yes, certainly," and -added. -"You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors -are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason -that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know -with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand." I said I was -sure of this, and then he went on. -"We are in Transylvania, and Transylvania is not England. Our ways -are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, -from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know -something of what strange things there may be." -This led to much conversation, and as it was evident that he wanted to -talk, if only for talking's sake, I asked him many questions regarding -things that had already happened to me or come within my notice. -Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation by -pretending not to understand, but generally he answered all I asked -most frankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I -asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as for -instance, why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the -blue flames. He then explained to me that it was commonly believed -that on a certain night of the year, last night, in fact, when all -evil spirits are supposed to have unchecked sway, a blue flame is seen -over any place where treasure has been concealed. -"That treasure has been hidden," he went on, "in the region through -which you came last night, there can be but little doubt. For it was -the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and -the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that -has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders. In -the old days there were stirring times, when the Austrian and the -Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them, -men and women, the aged and the children too, and waited their coming -on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep destruction on -them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was -triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been -sheltered in the friendly soil." -"But how," said I, "can it have remained so long undiscovered, when -there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look?" -The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long, -sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely. He answered -"Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool Those flames -only appear on one night, and on that night no man of this land will, -if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he -did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell -me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look -in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be -sworn, be able to find these places again?" -"There you are right," I said. "I know no more than the dead where -even to look for them." Then we drifted into other matters. -"Come," he said at last, "tell me of London and of the house which you -have procured for me." With an apology for my remissness, I went into -my own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them -in order I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and -as I passed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the -lamp lit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were -also lit in the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the -sofa, reading, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw's -Guide. When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table, -and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He -was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about -the place and its surroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all -he could get on the subject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at -the end knew very much more than I did. When I remarked this, he -answered. -"Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go -there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan, nay, pardon -me. I fall into my country's habit of putting your patronymic first, -my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid -me. He will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of -the law with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So" -We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at -Purfleet. When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the -necessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post to -Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable a -place. I read to him the notes which I had made at the time, and -which I inscribe here. -"At Purfleet, on a byroad, I came across just such a place as seemed -to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the -place was for sale. It was surrounded by a high wall, of ancient -structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a -large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and -iron, all eaten with rust. -"The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre -Face, as the house is four sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of -the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded -by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, -which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, darklooking pond -or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear -and flows away in a fairsized stream. The house is very large and of -all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of -stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily -barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an -old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of -the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak -views of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in -a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it -covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at -hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed -into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the -grounds." -When I had finished, he said, "I am glad that it is old and big. I -myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. -A house cannot be made habitable in a day, and after all, how few days -go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old -times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may -lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the -bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which -please the young and gay. I am no longer young, and my heart, through -weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, -the walls of my castle are broken. The shadows are many, and the wind -breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love -the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I -may." Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else -it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and -saturnine. -Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to pull my papers -together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some -of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened -naturally to England, as if that map had been much used. On looking -at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining -these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly -where his new estate was situated. The other two were Exeter, and -Whitby on the Yorkshire coast. -It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. "Aha" he -said. "Still at your books? Good But you must not work always. -Come I am informed that your supper is ready." He took my arm, and -we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on -the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on -his being away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and -chatted whilst I ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, -and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking questions on every -conceivable subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting very -late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation -to meet my host's wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the long -sleep yesterday had fortified me, but I could not help experiencing -that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is -like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that people who are -near death die generally at the change to dawn or at the turn of the -tide. Anyone who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, -experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it. All at -once we heard the crow of the cock coming up with preternatural -shrillness through the clear morning air. -Count Dracula, jumping to his feet, said, "Why there is the morning -again How remiss I am to let you stay up so long. You must make -your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less -interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us," and with -a courtly bow, he quickly left me. -I went into my room and drew the curtains, but there was little to -notice. My window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the -warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have -written of this day. - May.I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too -diffuse. But now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, -for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that -I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had -never come. It may be that this strange night existence is telling on -me, but would that that were all If there were any one to talk to I -could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak -with, and heI fear I am myself the only living soul within the -place. Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be. It will help me to -bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am -lost. Let me say at once how I stand, or seem to. -I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could -not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the -window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my -shoulder, and heard the Count's voice saying to me, "Good morning." I -started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the -reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting -I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having -answered the Count's salutation, I turned to the glass again to see -how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the -man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there -was no reflection of him in the mirror The whole room behind me was -displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. -This was startling, and coming on the top of so many strange things, -was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I -always have when the Count is near. But at the instant I saw that the -cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I -laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some -sticking plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a -sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I -drew away and his hand touched the string of beads which held the -crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so -quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there. -"Take care," he said, "take care how you cut yourself. It is more -dangerous that you think in this country." Then seizing the shaving -glass, he went on, "And this is the wretched thing that has done the -mischief. It is a foul bauble of man's vanity. Away with it" And -opening the window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out -the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of -the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very -annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watchcase -or the bottom of the shaving pot, which is fortunately of metal. -When I went into the dining room, breakfast was prepared, but I could -not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange -that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a very -peculiar man After breakfast I did a little exploring in the -castle. I went out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards -the South. -The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every -opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a -terrific precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a -thousand feet without touching anything As far as the eye can reach -is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there -is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind -in deep gorges through the forests. -But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view -I explored further. Doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked -and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is -there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a -prisoner -CHAPTER -Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued -When I found that I was a prisoner a sort of wild feeling came over -me. I rushed up and down the stairs, trying every door and peering -out of every window I could find, but after a little the conviction of -my helplessness overpowered all other feelings. When I look back -after a few hours I think I must have been mad for the time, for I -behaved much as a rat does in a trap. When, however, the conviction -had come to me that I was helpless I sat down quietly, as quietly as I -have ever done anything in my life, and began to think over what was -best to be done. I am thinking still, and as yet have come to no -definite conclusion. Of one thing only am I certain. That it is no -use making my ideas known to the Count. He knows well that I am -imprisoned, and as he has done it himself, and has doubtless his own -motives for it, he would only deceive me if I trusted him fully with -the facts. So far as I can see, my only plan will be to keep my -knowledge and my fears to myself, and my eyes open. I am, I know, -either being deceived, like a baby, by my own fears, or else I am in -desperate straits, and if the latter be so, I need, and shall need, -all my brains to get through. -I had hardly come to this conclusion when I heard the great door below -shut, and knew that the Count had returned. He did not come at once -into the library, so I went cautiously to my own room and found him -making the bed. This was odd, but only confirmed what I had all along -thought, that there are no servants in the house. When later I saw -him through the chink of the hinges of the door laying the table in -the dining room, I was assured of it. For if he does himself all -these menial offices, surely it is proof that there is no one else in -the castle, it must have been the Count himself who was the driver of -the coach that brought me here. This is a terrible thought, for if -so, what does it mean that he could control the wolves, as he did, by -only holding up his hand for silence? How was it that all the people -at Bistritz and on the coach had some terrible fear for me? What -meant the giving of the crucifix, of the garlic, of the wild rose, of -the mountain ash? -Bless that good, good woman who hung the crucifix round my neck For -it is a comfort and a strength to me whenever I touch it. It is odd -that a thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavour and as -idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is -it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself, or that -it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and -comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try -to make up my mind about it. In the meantime I must find out all I -can about Count Dracula, as it may help me to understand. Tonight he -may talk of himself, if I turn the conversation that way. I must be -very careful, however, not to awake his suspicion. -Midnight.I have had a long talk with the Count. I asked him a few -questions on Transylvania history, and he warmed up to the subject -wonderfully. In his speaking of things and people, and especially of -battles, he spoke as if he had been present at them all. This he -afterwards explained by saying that to a Boyar the pride of his house -and name is his own pride, that their glory is his glory, that their -fate is his fate. Whenever he spoke of his house he always said "we", -and spoke almost in the plural, like a king speaking. I wish I could -put down all he said exactly as he said it, for to me it was most -fascinating. It seemed to have in it a whole history of the country. -He grew excited as he spoke, and walked about the room pulling his -great white moustache and grasping anything on which he laid his hands -as though he would crush it by main strength. One thing he said which -I shall put down as nearly as I can, for it tells in its way the story -of his race. -"We Szekelys have a right to be proud, for in our veins flows the -blood of many brave races who fought as the lion fights, for lordship. -Here, in the whirlpool of European races, the Ugric tribe bore down -from Iceland the fighting spirit which Thor and Wodin gave them, which -their Berserkers displayed to such fell intent on the seaboards of -Europe, aye, and of Asia and Africa too, till the peoples thought that -the werewolves themselves had come. Here, too, when they came, they -found the Huns, whose warlike fury had swept the earth like a living -flame, till the dying peoples held that in their veins ran the blood -of those old witches, who, expelled from Scythia had mated with the -devils in the desert. Fools, fools What devil or what witch was -ever so great as Attila, whose blood is in these veins?" He held up -his arms. "Is it a wonder that we were a conquering race, that we -were proud, that when the Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, the Bulgar, -or the Turk poured his thousands on our frontiers, we drove them back? -Is it strange that when Arpad and his legions swept through the -Hungarian fatherland he found us here when he reached the frontier, -that the Honfoglalas was completed there? And when the Hungarian -flood swept eastward, the Szekelys were claimed as kindred by the -victorious Magyars, and to us for centuries was trusted the guarding -of the frontier of Turkeyland. Aye, and more than that, endless duty -of the frontier guard, for as the Turks say, 'water sleeps, and the -enemy is sleepless.' Who more gladly than we throughout the Four -Nations received the 'bloody sword,' or at its warlike call flocked -quicker to the standard of the King? When was redeemed that great -shame of my nation, the shame of Cassova, when the flags of the -Wallach and the Magyar went down beneath the Crescent? Who was it but -one of my own race who as Voivode crossed the Danube and beat the Turk -on his own ground? This was a Dracula indeed Woe was it that his -own unworthy brother, when he had fallen, sold his people to the Turk -and brought the shame of slavery on them Was it not this Dracula, -indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age again -and again brought his forces over the great river into Turkeyland, -who, when he was beaten back, came again, and again, though he had to -come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being -slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph -They said that he thought only of himself. Bah What good are -peasants without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and -heart to conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohacs, we -threw off the Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst -their leaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were not free. -Ah, young sir, the Szekelys, and the Dracula as their heart's blood, -their brains, and their swords, can boast a record that mushroom -growths like the Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs can never reach. The -warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of -dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale -that is told." -It was by this time close on morning, and we went to bed. Mem., this -diary seems horribly like the beginning of the "Arabian Nights," for -everything has to break off at cockcrow, or like the ghost of Hamlet's -father. - May.Let me begin with facts, bare, meager facts, verified by -books and figures, and of which there can be no doubt. I must not -confuse them with experiences which will have to rest on my own -observation, or my memory of them. Last evening when the Count came -from his room he began by asking me questions on legal matters and on -the doing of certain kinds of business. I had spent the day wearily -over books, and, simply to keep my mind occupied, went over some of -the matters I had been examined in at Lincoln's Inn. There was a -certain method in the Count's inquiries, so I shall try to put them -down in sequence. The knowledge may somehow or some time be useful to -me. -First, he asked if a man in England might have two solicitors or more. -I told him he might have a dozen if he wished, but that it would not -be wise to have more than one solicitor engaged in one transaction, as -only one could act at a time, and that to change would be certain to -militate against his interest. He seemed thoroughly to understand, -and went on to ask if there would be any practical difficulty in having -one man to attend, say, to banking, and another to look after -shipping, in case local help were needed in a place far from the home -of the banking solicitor. I asked to explain more fully, so that I -might not by any chance mislead him, so he said, -"I shall illustrate. Your friend and mine, Mr. Peter Hawkins, from -under the shadow of your beautiful cathedral at Exeter, which is far -from London, buys for me through your good self my place at London. -Good Now here let me say frankly, lest you should think it strange -that I have sought the services of one so far off from London instead -of some one resident there, that my motive was that no local interest -might be served save my wish only, and as one of London residence -might, perhaps, have some purpose of himself or friend to serve, I -went thus afield to seek my agent, whose labours should be only to my -interest. Now, suppose I, who have much of affairs, wish to ship -goods, say, to Newcastle, or Durham, or Harwich, or Dover, might it -not be that it could with more ease be done by consigning to one in -these ports?" -I answered that certainly it would be most easy, but that we -solicitors had a system of agency one for the other, so that local -work could be done locally on instruction from any solicitor, so that -the client, simply placing himself in the hands of one man, could have -his wishes carried out by him without further trouble. -"But," said he, "I could be at liberty to direct myself. Is it not -so?" -"Of course," I replied, and "Such is often done by men of business, -who do not like the whole of their affairs to be known by any one -person." -"Good" he said, and then went on to ask about the means of making -consignments and the forms to be gone through, and of all sorts of -difficulties which might arise, but by forethought could be guarded -against. I explained all these things to him to the best of my -ability, and he certainly left me under the impression that he would -have made a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that he did not -think of or foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who -did not evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and -acumen were wonderful. When he had satisfied himself on these points -of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by -the books available, he suddenly stood up and said, "Have you written -since your first letter to our friend Mr. Peter Hawkins, or to any -other?" -It was with some bitterness in my heart that I answered that I had -not, that as yet I had not seen any opportunity of sending letters to -anybody. -"Then write now, my young friend," he said, laying a heavy hand on my -shoulder, "write to our friend and to any other, and say, if it will -please you, that you shall stay with me until a month from now." -"Do you wish me to stay so long?" I asked, for my heart grew cold at -the thought. -"I desire it much, nay I will take no refusal. When your master, -employer, what you will, engaged that someone should come on his -behalf, it was understood that my needs only were to be consulted. I -have not stinted. Is it not so?" -What could I do but bow acceptance? It was Mr. Hawkins' interest, not -mine, and I had to think of him, not myself, and besides, while Count -Dracula was speaking, there was that in his eyes and in his bearing -which made me remember that I was a prisoner, and that if I wished it -I could have no choice. The Count saw his victory in my bow, and his -mastery in the trouble of my face, for he began at once to use them, -but in his own smooth, resistless way. -"I pray you, my good young friend, that you will not discourse of -things other than business in your letters. It will doubtless please -your friends to know that you are well, and that you look forward to -getting home to them. Is it not so?" As he spoke he handed me three -sheets of note paper and three envelopes. They were all of the -thinnest foreign post, and looking at them, then at him, and noticing -his quiet smile, with the sharp, canine teeth lying over the red -underlip, I understood as well as if he had spoken that I should be -more careful what I wrote, for he would be able to read it. So I -determined to write only formal notes now, but to write fully to Mr. -Hawkins in secret, and also to Mina, for to her I could write -shorthand, which would puzzle the Count, if he did see it. When I had -written my two letters I sat quiet, reading a book whilst the Count -wrote several notes, referring as he wrote them to some books on his -table. Then he took up my two and placed them with his own, and put -by his writing materials, after which, the instant the door had closed -behind him, I leaned over and looked at the letters, which were face -down on the table. I felt no compunction in doing so for under the -circumstances I felt that I should protect myself in every way I -could. -One of the letters was directed to Samuel F. Billington, No. , The -Crescent, Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, Varna. The third was to -Coutts Co., London, and the fourth to Herren Klopstock Billreuth, -bankers, Buda Pesth. The second and fourth were unsealed. I was just -about to look at them when I saw the door handle move. I sank back in -my seat, having just had time to resume my book before the Count, -holding still another letter in his hand, entered the room. He took -up the letters on the table and stamped them carefully, and then -turning to me, said, -"I trust you will forgive me, but I have much work to do in private -this evening. You will, I hope, find all things as you wish." At the -door he turned, and after a moment's pause said, "Let me advise you, -my dear young friend. Nay, let me warn you with all seriousness, that -should you leave these rooms you will not by any chance go to sleep in -any other part of the castle. It is old, and has many memories, and -there are bad dreams for those who sleep unwisely. Be warned Should -sleep now or ever overcome you, or be like to do, then haste to your -own chamber or to these rooms, for your rest will then be safe. But -if you be not careful in this respect, then," He finished his speech -in a gruesome way, for he motioned with his hands as if he were washing -them. I quite understood. My only doubt was as to whether any dream -could be more terrible than the unnatural, horrible net of gloom and -mystery which seemed closing around me. -Later.I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no -doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is -not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine -that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain. -When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing -any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to where I could -look out towards the South. There was some sense of freedom in the -vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me, as compared with the -narrow darkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I -was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, -though it were of the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal -existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own -shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows -that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place I -looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight -till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant -hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of -velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me. There was -peace and comfort in every breath I drew. As I leaned from the window -my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, and somewhat -to my left, where I imagined, from the order of the rooms, that the -windows of the Count's own room would look out. The window at which I -stood was tall and deep, stonemullioned, and though weatherworn, was -still complete. But it was evidently many a day since the case had -been there. I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully -out. -What I saw was the Count's head coming out from the window. I did not -see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his -back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had -had some many opportunities of studying. I was at first interested -and somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small a matter will -interest and amuse a man when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings -changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge -from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over the -dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like -great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was -some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept -looking, and it could be no delusion. I saw the fingers and toes -grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the -stress of years, and by thus using every projection and inequality -move downwards with considerable speed, just as a lizard moves along a -wall. -What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature, is it in the -semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place -overpowering me. I am in fear, in awful fear, and there is no escape -for me. I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of. - May.Once more I have seen the count go out in his lizard fashion. -He moved downwards in a sidelong way, some hundred feet down, and a -good deal to the left. He vanished into some hole or window. When -his head had disappeared, I leaned out to try and see more, but -without avail. The distance was too great to allow a proper angle of -sight. I knew he had left the castle now, and thought to use the -opportunity to explore more than I had dared to do as yet. I went -back to the room, and taking a lamp, tried all the doors. They were -all locked, as I had expected, and the locks were comparatively new. -But I went down the stone stairs to the hall where I had entered -originally. I found I could pull back the bolts easily enough and -unhook the great chains. But the door was locked, and the key was -gone That key must be in the Count's room. I must watch should his -door be unlocked, so that I may get it and escape. I went on to make -a thorough examination of the various stairs and passages, and to try -the doors that opened from them. One or two small rooms near the hall -were open, but there was nothing to see in them except old furniture, -dusty with age and motheaten. At last, however, I found one door at -the top of the stairway which, though it seemed locked, gave a little -under pressure. I tried it harder, and found that it was not really -locked, but that the resistance came from the fact that the hinges had -fallen somewhat, and the heavy door rested on the floor. Here was an -opportunity which I might not have again, so I exerted myself, and -with many efforts forced it back so that I could enter. I was now in -a wing of the castle further to the right than the rooms I knew and a -storey lower down. From the windows I could see that the suite of -rooms lay along to the south of the castle, the windows of the end -room looking out both west and south. On the latter side, as well as -to the former, there was a great precipice. The castle was built on -the corner of a great rock, so that on three sides it was quite -impregnable, and great windows were placed here where sling, or bow, -or culverin could not reach, and consequently light and comfort, -impossible to a position which had to be guarded, were secured. To -the west was a great valley, and then, rising far away, great jagged -mountain fastnesses, rising peak on peak, the sheer rock studded with -mountain ash and thorn, whose roots clung in cracks and crevices and -crannies of the stone. This was evidently the portion of the castle -occupied by the ladies in bygone days, for the furniture had more an -air of comfort than any I had seen. -The windows were curtainless, and the yellow moonlight, flooding in -through the diamond panes, enabled one to see even colours, whilst it -softened the wealth of dust which lay over all and disguised in some -measure the ravages of time and moth. My lamp seemed to be of little -effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, -for there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart -and made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than living alone in -the rooms which I had come to hate from the presence of the Count, and -after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a soft quietude -come over me. Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old -times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many -blushes, her illspelt love letter, and writing in my diary in -shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last. It is the -nineteenth century uptodate with a vengeance. And yet, unless my -senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their -own which mere "modernity" cannot kill. -Later The morning of May.God preserve my sanity, for to this I -am reduced. Safety and the assurance of safety are things of the -past. Whilst I live on here there is but one thing to hope for, that -I may not go mad, if, indeed, I be not mad already. If I be sane, -then surely it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that -lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me, that -to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I -can serve his purpose. Great God Merciful God, let me be calm, for -out of that way lies madness indeed. I begin to get new lights on -certain things which have puzzled me. Up to now I never quite knew -what Shakespeare meant when he made Hamlet say, "My tablets Quick, -my tablets 'tis meet that I put it down," etc., For now, feeling as -though my own brain were unhinged or as if the shock had come which -must end in its undoing, I turn to my diary for repose. The habit of -entering accurately must help to soothe me. -The Count's mysterious warning frightened me at the time. It frightens -me more not when I think of it, for in the future he has a fearful -hold upon me. I shall fear to doubt what he may say -When I had written in my diary and had fortunately replaced the book -and pen in my pocket I felt sleepy. The Count's warning came into my -mind, but I took pleasure in disobeying it. The sense of sleep was -upon me, and with it the obstinacy which sleep brings as outrider. The -soft moonlight soothed, and the wide expanse without gave a sense of -freedom which refreshed me. I determined not to return tonight to the -gloomhaunted rooms, but to sleep here, where, of old, ladies had sat -and sung and lived sweet lives whilst their gentle breasts were sad -for their menfolk away in the midst of remorseless wars. I drew a -great couch out of its place near the corner, so that as I lay, I -could look at the lovely view to east and south, and unthinking of and -uncaring for the dust, composed myself for sleep. I suppose I must -have fallen asleep. I hope so, but I fear, for all that followed was -startlingly real, so real that now sitting here in the broad, full -sunlight of the morning, I cannot in the least believe that it was all -sleep. -I was not alone. The room was the same, unchanged in any way since I -came into it. I could see along the floor, in the brilliant -moonlight, my own footsteps marked where I had disturbed the long -accumulation of dust. In the moonlight opposite me were three young -women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I -must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw no shadow on the floor. -They came close to me, and looked at me for some time, and then -whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like -the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red -when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as -fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale -sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in -connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the -moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone -like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was -something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same -time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire -that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note -this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her -pain, but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all -three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though -the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. -It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when -played on by a cunning hand. The fair girl shook her head -coquettishly, and the other two urged her on. -One said, "Go on You are first, and we shall follow. Yours is the -right to begin." -The other added, "He is young and strong. There are kisses for us -all." -I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in an agony of -delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till -I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one -sense, honeysweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as -her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter -offensiveness, as one smells in blood. -I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly -under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, -simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both -thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually -licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the -moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it -lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the -lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on -my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of -her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot -breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as -one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, -nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the -super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp -teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in -languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart. -But at that instant, another sensation swept through me as quick as -lightning. I was conscious of the presence of the Count, and of his -being as if lapped in a storm of fury. As my eyes opened -involuntarily I saw his strong hand grasp the slender neck of the fair -woman and with giant's power draw it back, the blue eyes transformed -with fury, the white teeth champing with rage, and the fair cheeks -blazing red with passion. But the Count Never did I imagine such -wrath and fury, even to the demons of the pit. His eyes were -positively blazing. The red light in them was lurid, as if the flames -of hell fire blazed behind them. His face was deathly pale, and the -lines of it were hard like drawn wires. The thick eyebrows that met -over the nose now seemed like a heaving bar of whitehot metal. With -a fierce sweep of his arm, he hurled the woman from him, and then -motioned to the others, as though he were beating them back. It was -the same imperious gesture that I had seen used to the wolves. In a -voice which, though low and almost in a whisper seemed to cut through -the air and then ring in the room he said, -"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him -when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all This man belongs to -me Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." -The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him. -"You yourself never loved. You never love" On this the other women -joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the -room that it almost made me faint to hear. It seemed like the -pleasure of fiends. -Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said -in a soft whisper, "Yes, I too can love. You yourselves can tell it -from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am -done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go Go I must -awaken him, for there is work to be done." -"Are we to have nothing tonight?" said one of them, with a low laugh, -as she pointed to the bag which he had thrown upon the floor, and -which moved as though there were some living thing within it. For -answer he nodded his head. One of the women jumped forward and opened -it. If my ears did not deceive me there was a gasp and a low wail, as -of a half smothered child. The women closed round, whilst I was -aghast with horror. But as I looked, they disappeared, and with them -the dreadful bag. There was no door near them, and they could not -have passed me without my noticing. They simply seemed to fade into -the rays of the moonlight and pass out through the window, for I could -see outside the dim, shadowy forms for a moment before they entirely -faded away. -Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious. -CHAPTER -Jonathan Harker's Journal Continued -I awoke in my own bed. If it be that I had not dreamt, the Count must -have carried me here. I tried to satisfy myself on the subject, but -could not arrive at any unquestionable result. To be sure, there were -certain small evidences, such as that my clothes were folded and laid -by in a manner which was not my habit. My watch was still unwound, -and I am rigorously accustomed to wind it the last thing before going -to bed, and many such details. But these things are no proof, for -they may have been evidences that my mind was not as usual, and, for -some cause or another, I had certainly been much upset. I must watch -for proof. Of one thing I am glad. If it was that the Count carried -me here and undressed me, he must have been hurried in his task, for -my pockets are intact. I am sure this diary would have been a mystery -to him which he would not have brooked. He would have taken or -destroyed it. As I look round this room, although it has been to me -so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be -more dreadful than those awful women, who were, who are, waiting to -suck my blood. - May.I have been down to look at that room again in daylight, for -I must know the truth. When I got to the doorway at the top of the -stairs I found it closed. It had been so forcibly driven against the -jamb that part of the woodwork was splintered. I could see that the -bolt of the lock had not been shot, but the door is fastened from the -inside. I fear it was no dream, and must act on this surmise. - May.I am surely in the toils. Last night the Count asked me in -the suavest tones to write three letters, one saying that my work here -was nearly done, and that I should start for home within a few days, -another that I was starting on the next morning from the time of the -letter, and the third that I had left the castle and arrived at -Bistritz. I would fain have rebelled, but felt that in the present -state of things it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Count -whilst I am so absolutely in his power. And to refuse would be to -excite his suspicion and to arouse his anger. He knows that I know -too much, and that I must not live, lest I be dangerous to him. My -only chance is to prolong my opportunities. Something may occur which -will give me a chance to escape. I saw in his eyes something of that -gathering wrath which was manifest when he hurled that fair woman from -him. He explained to me that posts were few and uncertain, and that -my writing now would ensure ease of mind to my friends. And he -assured me with so much impressiveness that he would countermand the -later letters, which would be held over at Bistritz until due time in -case chance would admit of my prolonging my stay, that to oppose him -would have been to create new suspicion. I therefore pretended to -fall in with his views, and asked him what dates I should put on the -letters. -He calculated a minute, and then said, "The first should be June , -the second June , and the third June ." -I know now the span of my life. God help me - May.There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to -send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle, and are -encamped in the courtyard. These are gipsies. I have notes of them -in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world, though -allied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are -thousands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost outside -all law. They attach themselves as a rule to some great noble or -boyar, and call themselves by his name. They are fearless and without -religion, save superstition, and they talk only their own varieties of -the Romany tongue. -I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have -them posted. I have already spoken to them through my window to begin -acquaintanceship. They took their hats off and made obeisance and -many signs, which however, I could not understand any more than I -could their spoken language . . . -I have written the letters. Mina's is in shorthand, and I simply ask -Mr. Hawkins to communicate with her. To her I have explained my -situation, but without the horrors which I may only surmise. It would -shock and frighten her to death were I to expose my heart to her. -Should the letters not carry, then the Count shall not yet know my -secret or the extent of my knowledge. . . . -I have given the letters. I threw them through the bars of my window -with a gold piece, and made what signs I could to have them posted. -The man who took them pressed them to his heart and bowed, and then -put them in his cap. I could do no more. I stole back to the study, -and began to read. As the Count did not come in, I have written -here . . . -The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothest -voice as he opened two letters, "The Szgany has given me these, of -which, though I know not whence they come, I shall, of course, take -care. See"He must have looked at it."One is from you, and to my -friend Peter Hawkins. The other,"here he caught sight of the -strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into -his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly,"The other is a vile thing, -an outrage upon friendship and hospitality It is not signed. Well -So it cannot matter to us." And he calmly held letter and envelope in -the flame of the lamp till they were consumed. -Then he went on, "The letter to Hawkins, that I shall, of course send -on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, -my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover -it again?" He held out the letter to me, and with a courteous bow -handed me a clean envelope. -I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence. When he went -out of the room I could hear the key turn softly. A minute later I -went over and tried it, and the door was locked. -When, an hour or two after, the Count came quietly into the room, his -coming awakened me, for I had gone to sleep on the sofa. He was very -courteous and very cheery in his manner, and seeing that I had been -sleeping, he said, "So, my friend, you are tired? Get to bed. There -is the surest rest. I may not have the pleasure of talk tonight, -since there are many labours to me, but you will sleep, I pray." -I passed to my room and went to bed, and, strange to say, slept -without dreaming. Despair has its own calms. - May.This morning when I woke I thought I would provide myself -with some papers and envelopes from my bag and keep them in my pocket, -so that I might write in case I should get an opportunity, but again a -surprise, again a shock -Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memoranda, -relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact all that -might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. I sat and -pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me, and I made -search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had placed my -clothes. -The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat and -rug. I could find no trace of them anywhere. This looked like some -new scheme of villainy . . . - June.This morning, as I was sitting on the edge of my bed -cudgelling my brains, I heard without a crackling of whips and -pounding and scraping of horses' feet up the rocky path beyond the -courtyard. With joy I hurried to the window, and saw drive into the -yard two great leiterwagons, each drawn by eight sturdy horses, and -at the head of each pair a Slovak, with his wide hat, great -nailstudded belt, dirty sheepskin, and high boots. They had also -their long staves in hand. I ran to the door, intending to descend -and try and join them through the main hall, as I thought that way -might be opened for them. Again a shock, my door was fastened on the -outside. -Then I ran to the window and cried to them. They looked up at me -stupidly and pointed, but just then the "hetman" of the Szgany came -out, and seeing them pointing to my window, said something, at which -they laughed. -Henceforth no effort of mine, no piteous cry or agonized entreaty, -would make them even look at me. They resolutely turned away. The -leiterwagons contained great, square boxes, with handles of thick -rope. These were evidently empty by the ease with which the Slovaks -handled them, and by their resonance as they were roughly moved. -When they were all unloaded and packed in a great heap in one corner -of the yard, the Slovaks were given some money by the Szgany, and -spitting on it for luck, lazily went each to his horse's head. -Shortly afterwards, I heard the crackling of their whips die away in -the distance. - June.Last night the Count left me early, and locked himself into -his own room. As soon as I dared I ran up the winding stair, and -looked out of the window, which opened South. I thought I would watch -for the Count, for there is something going on. The Szgany are -quartered somewhere in the castle and are doing work of some kind. I -know it, for now and then, I hear a faraway muffled sound as of -mattock and spade, and, whatever it is, it must be the end of some -ruthless villainy. -I had been at the window somewhat less than half an hour, when I saw -something coming out of the Count's window. I drew back and watched -carefully, and saw the whole man emerge. It was a new shock to me to -find that he had on the suit of clothes which I had worn whilst -travelling here, and slung over his shoulder the terrible bag which I -had seen the women take away. There could be no doubt as to his -quest, and in my garb, too This, then, is his new scheme of evil, -that he will allow others to see me, as they think, so that he may -both leave evidence that I have been seen in the towns or villages -posting my own letters, and that any wickedness which he may do shall -by the local people be attributed to me. -It makes me rage to think that this can go on, and whilst I am shut up -here, a veritable prisoner, but without that protection of the law -which is even a criminal's right and consolation. -I thought I would watch for the Count's return, and for a long time -sat doggedly at the window. Then I began to notice that there were -some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They -were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and -gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. I watched them with a -sense of soothing, and a sort of calm stole over me. I leaned back in -the embrasure in a more comfortable position, so that I could enjoy -more fully the aerial gambolling. -Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere -far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it -seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating moats of dust to take new -shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself -struggling to awake to some call of my instincts. Nay, my very soul -was struggling, and my halfremembered sensibilities were striving to -answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised -Quicker and quicker danced the dust. The moonbeams seemed to quiver -as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and more they -gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And then I -started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ran -screaming from the place. -The phantom shapes, which were becoming gradually materialised from -the moonbeams, were those three ghostly women to whom I was doomed. -I fled, and felt somewhat safer in my own room, where there was no -moonlight, and where the lamp was burning brightly. -When a couple of hours had passed I heard something stirring in the -Count's room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed. And -then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me. With a -beating heart, I tried the door, but I was locked in my prison, and -could do nothing. I sat down and simply cried. -As I sat I heard a sound in the courtyard without, the agonised cry of -a woman. I rushed to the window, and throwing it up, peered between -the bars. -There, indeed, was a woman with dishevelled hair, holding her hands -over her heart as one distressed with running. She was leaning -against the corner of the gateway. When she saw my face at the window -she threw herself forward, and shouted in a voice laden with menace, -"Monster, give me my child" -She threw herself on her knees, and raising up her hands, cried the -same words in tones which wrung my heart. Then she tore her hair and -beat her breast, and abandoned herself to all the violences of -extravagant emotion. Finally, she threw herself forward, and though I -could not see her, I could hear the beating of her naked hands against -the door. -Somewhere high overhead, probably on the tower, I heard the voice of -the Count calling in his harsh, metallic whisper. His call seemed to -be answered from far and wide by the howling of wolves. Before many -minutes had passed a pack of them poured, like a pentup dam when -liberated, through the wide entrance into the courtyard. -There was no cry from the woman, and the howling of the wolves was but -short. Before long they streamed away singly, licking their lips. -I could not pity her, for I knew now what had become of her child, and -she was better dead. -What shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful -thing of night, gloom, and fear? - June.No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet -and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. When the sun grew -so high this morning that it struck the top of the great gateway -opposite my window, the high spot which it touched seemed to me as if -the dove from the ark had lighted there. My fear fell from me as if -it had been a vaporous garment which dissolved in the warmth. -I must take action of some sort whilst the courage of the day is upon -me. Last night one of my postdated letters went to post, the first -of that fatal series which is to blot out the very traces of my -existence from the earth. -Let me not think of it. Action -It has always been at nighttime that I have been molested or -threatened, or in some way in danger or in fear. I have not yet seen -the Count in the daylight. Can it be that he sleeps when others wake, -that he may be awake whilst they sleep? If I could only get into his -room But there is no possible way. The door is always locked, no -way for me. -Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where his body has gone -why may not another body go? I have seen him myself crawl from his -window. Why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window? The -chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shall -risk it. At the worst it can only be death, and a man's death is not -a calf's, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me. God help -me in my task Goodbye, Mina, if I fail. Goodbye, my faithful friend -and second father. Goodbye, all, and last of all Mina -Same day, later.I have made the effort, and God helping me, have -come safely back to this room. I must put down every detail in order. -I went whilst my courage was fresh straight to the window on the south -side, and at once got outside on this side. The stones are big and -roughly cut, and the mortar has by process of time been washed away -between them. I took off my boots, and ventured out on the desperate -way. I looked down once, so as to make sure that a sudden glimpse of -the awful depth would not overcome me, but after that kept my eyes -away from it. I know pretty well the direction and distance of the -Count's window, and made for it as well as I could, having regard to -the opportunities available. I did not feel dizzy, I suppose I was -too excited, and the time seemed ridiculously short till I found -myself standing on the window sill and trying to raise up the sash. I -was filled with agitation, however, when I bent down and slid feet -foremost in through the window. Then I looked around for the Count, -but with surprise and gladness, made a discovery. The room was -empty It was barely furnished with odd things, which seemed to have -never been used. -The furniture was something the same style as that in the south rooms, -and was covered with dust. I looked for the key, but it was not in -the lock, and I could not find it anywhere. The only thing I found -was a great heap of gold in one corner, gold of all kinds, Roman, and -British, and Austrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkish money, -covered with a film of dust, as though it had lain long in the ground. -None of it that I noticed was less than three hundred years old. -There were also chains and ornaments, some jewelled, but all of them -old and stained. -At one corner of the room was a heavy door. I tried it, for, since I -could not find the key of the room or the key of the outer door, which -was the main object of my search, I must make further examination, or -all my efforts would be in vain. It was open, and led through a stone -passage to a circular stairway, which went steeply down. -I descended, minding carefully where I went for the stairs were dark, -being only lit by loopholes in the heavy masonry. At the bottom there -was a dark, tunnellike passage, through which came a deathly, sickly -odour, the odour of old earth newly turned. As I went through the -passage the smell grew closer and heavier. At last I pulled open a -heavy door which stood ajar, and found myself in an old ruined chapel, -which had evidently been used as a graveyard. The roof was broken, -and in two places were steps leading to vaults, but the ground had -recently been dug over, and the earth placed in great wooden boxes, -manifestly those which had been brought by the Slovaks. -There was nobody about, and I made a search over every inch of the -ground, so as not to lose a chance. I went down even into the vaults, -where the dim light struggled, although to do so was a dread to my -very soul. Into two of these I went, but saw nothing except fragments -of old coffins and piles of dust. In the third, however, I made a -discovery. -There, in one of the great boxes, of which there were fifty in all, on -a pile of newly dug earth, lay the Count He was either dead or -asleep. I could not say which, for eyes were open and stony, but -without the glassiness of death, and the cheeks had the warmth of life -through all their pallor. The lips were as red as ever. But there -was no sign of movement, no pulse, no breath, no beating of the heart. -I bent over him, and tried to find any sign of life, but in vain. He -could not have lain there long, for the earthy smell would have passed -away in a few hours. By the side of the box was its cover, pierced -with holes here and there. I thought he might have the keys on him, -but when I went to search I saw the dead eyes, and in them dead though -they were, such a look of hate, though unconscious of me or my -presence, that I fled from the place, and leaving the Count's room by -the window, crawled again up the castle wall. Regaining my room, I -threw myself panting upon the bed and tried to think. - June.Today is the date of my last letter, and the Count has taken -steps to prove that it was genuine, for again I saw him leave the -castle by the same window, and in my clothes. As he went down the -wall, lizard fashion, I wished I had a gun or some lethal weapon, that -I might destroy him. But I fear that no weapon wrought along by man's -hand would have any effect on him. I dared not wait to see him -return, for I feared to see those weird sisters. I came back to the -library, and read there till I fell asleep. -I was awakened by the Count, who looked at me as grimly as a man could -look as he said, "Tomorrow, my friend, we must part. You return to -your beautiful England, I to some work which may have such an end that -we may never meet. Your letter home has been despatched. Tomorrow I -shall not be here, but all shall be ready for your journey. In the -morning come the Szgany, who have some labours of their own here, and -also come some Slovaks. When they have gone, my carriage shall come -for you, and shall bear you to the Borgo Pass to meet the diligence -from Bukovina to Bistritz. But I am in hopes that I shall see more of -you at Castle Dracula." -I suspected him, and determined to test his sincerity. Sincerity It -seems like a profanation of the word to write it in connection with -such a monster, so I asked him pointblank, "Why may I not go -tonight?" -"Because, dear sir, my coachman and horses are away on a mission." -"But I would walk with pleasure. I want to get away at once." -He smiled, such a soft, smooth, diabolical smile that I knew there was -some trick behind his smoothness. He said, "And your baggage?" -"I do not care about it. I can send for it some other time." -The Count stood up, and said, with a sweet courtesy which made me rub -my eyes, it seemed so real, "You English have a saying which is close -to my heart, for its spirit is that which rules our boyars, 'Welcome -the coming, speed the parting guest.' Come with me, my dear young -friend. Not an hour shall you wait in my house against your will, -though sad am I at your going, and that you so suddenly desire it. -Come" With a stately gravity, he, with the lamp, preceded me down -the stairs and along the hall. Suddenly he stopped. "Hark" -Close at hand came the howling of many wolves. It was almost as if -the sound sprang up at the rising of his hand, just as the music of a -great orchestra seems to leap under the baton of the conductor. After -a pause of a moment, he proceeded, in his stately way, to the door, -drew back the ponderous bolts, unhooked the heavy chains, and began to -draw it open. -To my intense astonishment I saw that it was unlocked. Suspiciously, -I looked all round, but could see no key of any kind. -As the door began to open, the howling of the wolves without grew -louder and angrier. Their red jaws, with champing teeth, and their -bluntclawed feet as they leaped, came in through the opening door. I -knew than that to struggle at the moment against the Count was -useless. With such allies as these at his command, I could do -nothing. -But still the door continued slowly to open, and only the Count's body -stood in the gap. Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment -and means of my doom. I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own -instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great -enough for the Count, and as the last chance I cried out, "Shut the -door I shall wait till morning." And I covered my face with my -hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. -With one sweep of his powerful arm, the Count threw the door shut, and -the great bolts clanged and echoed through the hall as they shot back -into their places. -In silence we returned to the library, and after a minute or two I went -to my own room. The last I saw of Count Dracula was his kissing his -hand to me, with a red light of triumph in his eyes, and with a smile -that Judas in hell might be proud of. -When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a -whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. Unless my -ears deceived me, I heard the voice of the Count. -"Back Back to your own place Your time is not yet come. Wait -Have patience Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours" -There was a low, sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open -the door, and saw without the three terrible women licking their lips. -As I appeared, they all joined in a horrible laugh, and ran away. -I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so -near the end? Tomorrow Tomorrow Lord, help me, and those to whom -I am dear - June.These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I -slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my -knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. -At last I felt that subtle change in the air, and knew that the -morning had come. Then came the welcome cockcrow, and I felt that I -was safe. With a glad heart, I opened the door and ran down the hall. -I had seen that the door was unlocked, and now escape was before me. -With hands that trembled with eagerness, I unhooked the chains and -threw back the massive bolts. -But the door would not move. Despair seized me. I pulled and pulled -at the door, and shook it till, massive as it was, it rattled in its -casement. I could see the bolt shot. It had been locked after I left -the Count. -Then a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk, and I -determined then and there to scale the wall again, and gain the -Count's room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier -choice of evils. Without a pause I rushed up to the east window, and -scrambled down the wall, as before, into the Count's room. It was -empty, but that was as I expected. I could not see a key anywhere, -but the heap of gold remained. I went through the door in the corner -and down the winding stair and along the dark passage to the old -chapel. I knew now well enough where to find the monster I sought. -The great box was in the same place, close against the wall, but the -lid was laid on it, not fastened down, but with the nails ready in -their places to be hammered home. -I knew I must reach the body for the key, so I raised the lid, and -laid it back against the wall. And then I saw something which filled -my very soul with horror. There lay the Count, but looking as if his -youth had been half restored. For the white hair and moustache were -changed to dark irongrey. The cheeks were fuller, and the white skin -seemed rubyred underneath. The mouth was redder than ever, for on -the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of -the mouth and ran down over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning -eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches -underneath were bloated. It seemed as if the whole awful creature -were simply gorged with blood. He lay like a filthy leech, exhausted -with his repletion. -I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me -revolted at the contact, but I had to search, or I was lost. The -coming night might see my own body a banquet in a similar war to those -horrid three. I felt all over the body, but no sign could I find of -the key. Then I stopped and looked at the Count. There was a mocking -smile on the bloated face which seemed to drive me mad. This was the -being I was helping to transfer to London, where, perhaps, for -centuries to come he might, amongst its teeming millions, satiate his -lust for blood, and create a new and everwidening circle of -semidemons to batten on the helpless. -The very thought drove me mad. A terrible desire came upon me to rid -the world of such a monster. There was no lethal weapon at hand, but -I seized a shovel which the workmen had been using to fill the cases, -and lifting it high, struck, with the edge downward, at the hateful -face. But as I did so the head turned, and the eyes fell upon me, -with all their blaze of basilisk horror. The sight seemed to paralyze -me, and the shovel turned in my hand and glanced from the face, merely -making a deep gash above the forehead. The shovel fell from my hand -across the box, and as I pulled it away the flange of the blade caught -the edge of the lid which fell over again, and hid the horrid thing -from my sight. The last glimpse I had was of the bloated face, -bloodstained and fixed with a grin of malice which would have held -its own in the nethermost hell. -I thought and thought what should be my next move, but my brain seemed -on fire, and I waited with a despairing feeling growing over me. As I -waited I heard in the distance a gipsy song sung by merry voices -coming closer, and through their song the rolling of heavy wheels and -the cracking of whips. The Szgany and the Slovaks of whom the Count -had spoken were coming. With a last look around and at the box which -contained the vile body, I ran from the place and gained the Count's -room, determined to rush out at the moment the door should be opened. -With strained ears, I listened, and heard downstairs the grinding of -the key in the great lock and the falling back of the heavy door. -There must have been some other means of entry, or some one had a key -for one of the locked doors. -Then there came the sound of many feet tramping and dying away in some -passage which sent up a clanging echo. I turned to run down again -towards the vault, where I might find the new entrance, but at the -moment there seemed to come a violent puff of wind, and the door to -the winding stair blew to with a shock that set the dust from the -lintels flying. When I ran to push it open, I found that it was -hopelessly fast. I was again a prisoner, and the net of doom was -closing round me more closely. -As I write there is in the passage below a sound of many tramping feet -and the crash of weights being set down heavily, doubtless the boxes, -with their freight of earth. There was a sound of hammering. It is -the box being nailed down. Now I can hear the heavy feet tramping -again along the hall, with with many other idle feet coming behind -them. -The door is shut, the chains rattle. There is a grinding of the key -in the lock. I can hear the key withdrawn, then another door opens -and shuts. I hear the creaking of lock and bolt. -Hark In the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy -wheels, the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they pass -into the distance. -I am alone in the castle with those horrible women. Faugh Mina is a -woman, and there is nought in common. They are devils of the Pit -I shall not remain alone with them. I shall try to scale the castle -wall farther than I have yet attempted. I shall take some of the gold -with me, lest I want it later. I may find a way from this dreadful -place. -And then away for home Away to the quickest and nearest train Away -from the cursed spot, from this cursed land, where the devil and his -children still walk with earthly feet -At least God's mercy is better than that of those monsters, and the -precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep, as a man. -Goodbye, all. Mina -CHAPTER -LETTER FROM MISS MINA MURRAY TO MISS LUCY WESTENRA - May. -My dearest Lucy, -Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been simply overwhelmed -with work. The life of an assistant schoolmistress is sometimes -trying. I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can -talk together freely and build our castles in the air. I have been -working very hard lately, because I want to keep up with Jonathan's -studies, and I have been practicing shorthand very assiduously. -When we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jonathan, and if -I can stenograph well enough I can take down what he wants to say in -this way and write it out for him on the typewriter, at which also I -am practicing very hard. -He and I sometimes write letters in shorthand, and he is -keeping a stenographic journal of his travels abroad. When -I am with you I shall keep a diary in the same way. I don't -mean one of those twopagestotheweekwithSundaysqueezed -inacorner diaries, but a sort of journal which I can write -in whenever I feel inclined. -I do not suppose there will be much of interest to other people, but -it is not intended for them. I may show it to Jonathan some day if -there is in it anything worth sharing, but it is really an exercise -book. I shall try to do what I see lady journalists do, -interviewing and writing descriptions and trying to remember -conversations. I am told that, with a little practice, one can -remember all that goes on or that one hears said during a day. -However, we shall see. I will tell you of my little plans when we -meet. I have just had a few hurried lines from Jonathan from -Transylvania. He is well, and will be returning in about a week. I -am longing to hear all his news. It must be nice to see strange -countries. I wonder if we, I mean Jonathan and I, shall ever see -them together. There is the ten o'clock bell ringing. Goodbye. -Your loving -Mina -Tell me all the news when you write. You have not told me -anything for a long time. I hear rumours, and especially -of a tall, handsome, curlyhaired man??? -LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA MURRAY -, Chatham Street -Wednesday -My dearest Mina, -I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent. -I wrote you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only -your second. Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really -nothing to interest you. -Town is very pleasant just now, and we go a great deal to -picturegalleries and for walks and rides in the park. As -to the tall, curlyhaired man, I suppose it was the one who -was with me at the last Pop. Someone has evidently been -telling tales. -That was Mr. Holmwood. He often comes to see us, and he and -Mamma get on very well together, they have so many things -to talk about in common. -We met some time ago a man that would just do for you, if you were -not already engaged to Jonathan. He is an excellent parti, being -handsome, well off, and of good birth. He is a doctor and really -clever. Just fancy He is only nineand twenty, and he has an -immense lunatic asylum all under his own care. Mr. Holmwood -introduced him to me, and he called here to see us, and often comes -now. I think he is one of the most resolute men I ever saw, and yet -the most calm. He seems absolutely imperturbable. I can fancy what -a wonderful power he must have over his patients. He has a curious -habit of looking one straight in the face, as if trying to read -one's thoughts. He tries this on very much with me, but I flatter -myself he has got a tough nut to crack. I know that from my glass. -Do you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can -tell you it is not a bad study, and gives you more trouble -than you can well fancy if you have never tried it. -He says that I afford him a curious psychological study, and -I humbly think I do. I do not, as you know, take sufficient -interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. -Dress is a bore. That is slang again, but never mind. Arthur -says that every day. -There, it is all out, Mina, we have told all our secrets to -each other since we were children. We have slept together -and eaten together, and laughed and cried together, and -now, though I have spoken, I would like to speak more. Oh, -Mina, couldn't you guess? I love him. I am blushing as I -write, for although I think he loves me, he has not told me -so in words. But, oh, Mina, I love him. I love him There, -that does me good. -I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fire undressing, as we -used to sit, and I would try to tell you what I feel. I do not know -how I am writing this even to you. I am afraid to stop, or I should -tear up the letter, and I don't want to stop, for I do so want to -tell you all. Let me hear from you at once, and tell me all that you -think about it. Mina, pray for my happiness. -Lucy -P.S.I need not tell you this is a secret. -Goodnight again. L. -LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA MURRAY - May -My dearest Mina, -Thanks, and thanks, and thanks again for your sweet letter. It -was so nice to be able to tell you and to have your sympathy. -My dear, it never rains but it pours. How true the old proverbs -are. Here am I, who shall be twenty in September, and yet I never -had a proposal till today, not a real proposal, and today I had -three. Just fancy Three proposals in one day Isn't it awful I -feel sorry, really and truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows. -Oh, Mina, I am so happy that I don't know what to do with myself. -And three proposals But, for goodness' sake, don't tell any of the -girls, or they would be getting all sorts of extravagant ideas, and -imagining themselves injured and slighted if in their very first day -at home they did not get six at least. Some girls are so vain You -and I, Mina dear, who are engaged and are going to settle down soon -soberly into old married women, can despise vanity. Well, I must -tell you about the three, but you must keep it a secret, dear, from -every one except, of course, Jonathan. You will tell him, because I -would, if I were in your place, certainly tell Arthur. A woman -ought to tell her husband everything. Don't you think so, dear? And -I must be fair. Men like women, certainly their wives, to be quite -as fair as they are. And women, I am afraid, are not always quite -as fair as they should be. -Well, my dear, number One came just before lunch. I told you of -him, Dr. John Seward, the lunatic asylum man, with the strong jaw -and the good forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous -all the same. He had evidently been schooling himself as to all -sorts of little things, and remembered them, but he almost managed -to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't generally do when they -are cool, and then when he wanted to appear at ease he kept playing -with a lancet in a way that made me nearly scream. He spoke to me, -Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, -though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me -to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would -be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said he was -a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off -and asked if I could love him in time, and when I shook my head his -hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared -already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did -not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because -if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, -I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only -told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong -and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I -would be happy, and that If I ever wanted a friend I must count him -one of my best. -Oh, Mina dear, I can't help crying, and you must excuse this letter -being all blotted. Being proposed to is all very nice and all that -sort of thing, but it isn't at all a happy thing when you have to -see a poor fellow, whom you know loves you honestly, going away and -looking all broken hearted, and to know that, no matter what he may -say at the moment, you are passing out of his life. My dear, I must -stop here at present, I feel so miserable, though I am so happy. -Evening. -Arthur has just gone, and I feel in better spirits than when I -left off, so I can go on telling you about the day. -Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch. He is such a nice -fellow, an American from Texas, and he looks so young and so fresh -that it seems almost impossible that he has been to so many places -and has such adventures. I sympathize with poor Desdemona when she -had such a stream poured in her ear, even by a black man. I suppose -that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from -fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man -and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. -Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and -yet . . . -My dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr. Quincy P. Morris found me -alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he -doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him -all I could, I am not ashamed to say it now. I must tell you -beforehand that Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang, that is to -say, he never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really -well educated and has exquisite manners, but he found out that it -amused me to hear him talk American slang, and whenever I was -present, and there was no one to be shocked, he said such funny -things. I am afraid, my dear, he has to invent it all, for it fits -exactly into whatever else he has to say. But this is a way slang -has. I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang. I do not -know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet. -Well, Mr. Morris sat down beside me and looked as happy and jolly as -he could, but I could see all the same that he was very nervous. He -took my hand in his, and said ever so sweetly . . . -"Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of -your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you find a man that -is you will go join them seven young women with the lamps when you -quit. Won't you just hitch up alongside of me and let us go down -the long road together, driving in double harness?" -Well, he did look so good humoured and so jolly that it didn't seem -half so hard to refuse him as it did poor Dr. Seward. So I said, as -lightly as I could, that I did not know anything of hitching, and -that I wasn't broken to harness at all yet. Then he said that he -had spoken in a light manner, and he hoped that if he had made a -mistake in doing so on so grave, so momentous, and occasion for him, -I would forgive him. He really did look serious when he was saying -it, and I couldn't help feeling a sort of exultation that he was -number Two in one day. And then, my dear, before I could say a word -he began pouring out a perfect torrent of lovemaking, laying his -very heart and soul at my feet. He looked so earnest over it that I -shall never again think that a man must be playful always, and never -earnest, because he is merry at times. I suppose he saw something -in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said with -a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had -been free . . . -"Lucy, you are an honest hearted girl, I know. I should not be here -speaking to you as I am now if I did not believe you clean grit, -right through to the very depths of your soul. Tell me, like one -good fellow to another, is there any one else that you care for? -And if there is I'll never trouble you a hair's breadth again, but -will be, if you will let me, a very faithful friend." -My dear Mina, why are men so noble when we women are so little -worthy of them? Here was I almost making fun of this great hearted, -true gentleman. I burst into tears, I am afraid, my dear, you will -think this a very sloppy letter in more ways than one, and I really -felt very badly. -Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as -want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, -and I must not say it. I am glad to say that, though I was -crying, I was able to look into Mr. Morris' brave eyes, and -I told him out straight . . . -"Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told me -yet that he even loves me." I was right to speak to him so -frankly, for quite a light came into his face, and he put -out both his hands and took mine, I think I put them into -his, and said in a hearty way . . . -"That's my brave girl. It's better worth being late for a chance of -winning you than being in time for any other girl in the world. -Don't cry, my dear. If it's for me, I'm a hard nut to crack, and I -take it standing up. If that other fellow doesn't know his -happiness, well, he'd better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal -with me. Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, -and that's rarer than a lover, it's more selfish anyhow. My dear, -I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom -Come. Won't you give me one kiss? It'll be something to keep off -the darkness now and then. You can, you know, if you like, for that -other good fellow, or you could not love him, hasn't spoken yet." -That quite won me, Mina, for it was brave and sweet of him, -and noble too, to a rival, wasn't it? And he so sad, so I -leant over and kissed him. -He stood up with my two hands in his, and as he looked down into my -face, I am afraid I was blushing very much, he said, "Little girl, I -hold your hand, and you've kissed me, and if these things don't make -us friends nothing ever will. Thank you for your sweet honesty to -me, and goodbye." -He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat, went straight out of the -room without looking back, without a tear or a quiver or a pause, -and I am crying like a baby. -Oh, why must a man like that be made unhappy when there are lots of -girls about who would worship the very ground he trod on? I know I -would if I were free, only I don't want to be free. My dear, this -quite upset me, and I feel I cannot write of happiness just at once, -after telling you of it, and I don't wish to tell of the number -Three until it can be all happy. Ever your loving . . . -Lucy -P.S.Oh, about number Three, I needn't tell you of number -Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused. It seemed -only a moment from his coming into the room till both his -arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very -happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I -must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful -to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a -lover, such a husband, and such a friend. -Goodbye. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY Kept in phonograph - May.Ebb tide in appetite today. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so -diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty -feeling. Nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be -worth the doing. As I knew that the only cure for this sort of thing -was work, I went amongst the patients. I picked out one who has -afforded me a study of much interest. He is so quaint that I am -determined to understand him as well as I can. Today I seemed to get -nearer than ever before to the heart of his mystery. -I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to -making myself master of the facts of his hallucination. In my manner -of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to -wish to keep him to the point of his madness, a thing which I avoid -with the patients as I would the mouth of hell. -Mem., Under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell? -Omnia Romae venalia sunt. Hell has its price If there be anything -behind this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards -accurately, so I had better commence to do so, therefore . . . -R. M, Renfield, age . Sanguine temperament, great physical -strength, morbidly excitable, periods of gloom, ending in some fixed -idea which I cannot make out. I presume that the sanguine temperament -itself and the disturbing influence end in a mentallyaccomplished -finish, a possibly dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In -selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes as for -themselves. What I think of on this point is, when self is the fixed -point the centripetal force is balanced with the centrifugal. When -duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter force is -paramount, and only accident or a series of accidents can balance it. -LETTER, QUINCEY P. MORRIS TO HON. ARTHUR HOLMOOD - May. -My dear Art, -We've told yarns by the campfire in the prairies, and dressed one -another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas, and drunk -healths on the shore of Titicaca. There are more yarns to be told, -and other wounds to be healed, and another health to be drunk. -Won't you let this be at my campfire tomorrow night? I have no -hesitation in asking you, as I know a certain lady is engaged to a -certain dinner party, and that you are free. There will only be one -other, our old pal at the Korea, Jack Seward. He's coming, too, and -we both want to mingle our weeps over the wine cup, and to drink a -health with all our hearts to the happiest man in all the wide -world, who has won the noblest heart that God has made and best -worth winning. We promise you a hearty welcome, and a loving -greeting, and a health as true as your own right hand. We shall -both swear to leave you at home if you drink too deep to a certain -pair of eyes. Come -Yours, as ever and always, -Quincey P. Morris -TELEGRAM FROM ARTHUR HOLMWOOD TO QUINCEY P. MORRIS - May -Count me in every time. I bear messages which will make both -your ears tingle. -Art -CHAPTER -MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL - July. Whitby.Lucy met me at the station, looking sweeter and -lovelier than ever, and we drove up to the house at the Crescent in -which they have rooms. This is a lovely place. The little river, the -Esk, runs through a deep valley, which broadens out as it comes near -the harbour. A great viaduct runs across, with high piers, through -which the view seems somehow further away than it really is. The -valley is beautifully green, and it is so steep that when you are on -the high land on either side you look right across it, unless you are -near enough to see down. The houses of the old townthe side away -from us, are all redroofed, and seem piled up one over the other -anyhow, like the pictures we see of Nuremberg. Right over the town is -the ruin of Whitby Abbey, which was sacked by the Danes, and which is -the scene of part of "Marmion," where the girl was built up in the -wall. It is a most noble ruin, of immense size, and full of beautiful -and romantic bits. There is a legend that a white lady is seen in one -of the windows. Between it and the town there is another church, the -parish one, round which is a big graveyard, all full of tombstones. -This is to my mind the nicest spot in Whitby, for it lies right over -the town, and has a full view of the harbour and all up the bay to -where the headland called Kettleness stretches out into the sea. It -descends so steeply over the harbour that part of the bank has fallen -away, and some of the graves have been destroyed. -In one place part of the stonework of the graves stretches out over -the sandy pathway far below. There are walks, with seats beside them, -through the churchyard, and people go and sit there all day long -looking at the beautiful view and enjoying the breeze. -I shall come and sit here often myself and work. Indeed, I am writing -now, with my book on my knee, and listening to the talk of three old -men who are sitting beside me. They seem to do nothing all day but -sit here and talk. -The harbour lies below me, with, on the far side, one long granite -wall stretching out into the sea, with a curve outwards at the end of -it, in the middle of which is a lighthouse. A heavy seawall runs -along outside of it. On the near side, the seawall makes an elbow -crooked inversely, and its end too has a lighthouse. Between the two -piers there is a narrow opening into the harbour, which then suddenly -widens. -It is nice at high water, but when the tide is out it shoals away to -nothing, and there is merely the stream of the Esk, running between -banks of sand, with rocks here and there. Outside the harbour on this -side there rises for about half a mile a great reef, the sharp of -which runs straight out from behind the south lighthouse. At the end -of it is a buoy with a bell, which swings in bad weather, and sends in -a mournful sound on the wind. -They have a legend here that when a ship is lost bells are heard out at -sea. I must ask the old man about this. He is coming this way . . . -He is a funny old man. He must be awfully old, for his face is -gnarled and twisted like the bark of a tree. He tells me that he is -nearly a hundred, and that he was a sailor in the Greenland fishing -fleet when Waterloo was fought. He is, I am afraid, a very sceptical -person, for when I asked him about the bells at sea and the White Lady -at the abbey he said very brusquely, -"I wouldn't fash masel' about them, miss. Them things be all wore -out. Mind, I don't say that they never was, but I do say that they -wasn't in my time. They be all very well for comers and trippers, an' -the like, but not for a nice young lady like you. Them feetfolks -from York and Leeds that be always eatin' cured herrin's and drinkin' -tea an' lookin' out to buy cheap jet would creed aught. I wonder -masel' who'd be bothered tellin' lies to them, even the newspapers, -which is full of fooltalk." -I thought he would be a good person to learn interesting things from, -so I asked him if he would mind telling me something about the whale -fishing in the old days. He was just settling himself to begin when -the clock struck six, whereupon he laboured to get up, and said, -"I must gang ageeanwards home now, miss. My granddaughter doesn't -like to be kept waitin' when the tea is ready, for it takes me time to -crammle aboon the grees, for there be a many of 'em, and miss, I lack -bellytimber sairly by the clock." -He hobbled away, and I could see him hurrying, as well as he could, -down the steps. The steps are a great feature on the place. They -lead from the town to the church, there are hundreds of them, I do not -know how many, and they wind up in a delicate curve. The slope is so -gentle that a horse could easily walk up and down them. -I think they must originally have had something to do with the abbey. -I shall go home too. Lucy went out, visiting with her mother, and as -they were only duty calls, I did not go. - August.I came up here an hour ago with Lucy, and we had a most -interesting talk with my old friend and the two others who always come -and join him. He is evidently the Sir Oracle of them, and I should -think must have been in his time a most dictatorial person. -He will not admit anything, and down faces everybody. If he can't -outargue them he bullies them, and then takes their silence for -agreement with his views. -Lucy was looking sweetly pretty in her white lawn frock. She has got -a beautiful colour since she has been here. -I noticed that the old men did not lose any time in coming and sitting -near her when we sat down. She is so sweet with old people, I think -they all fell in love with her on the spot. Even my old man succumbed -and did not contradict her, but gave me double share instead. I got -him on the subject of the legends, and he went off at once into a sort -of sermon. I must try to remember it and put it down. -"It be all fooltalk, lock, stock, and barrel, that's what it be and -nowt else. These bans an' wafts an' bohghosts an' barguests an' -bogles an' all anent them is only fit to set bairns an' dizzy women -a'belderin'. They be nowt but airblebs. They, an' all grims an' signs -an' warnin's, be all invented by parsons an' illsome berkbodies an' -railway touters to skeer an' scunner hafflin's, an' to get folks to do -somethin' that they don't other incline to. It makes me ireful to -think o' them. Why, it's them that, not content with printin' lies on -paper an' preachin' them out of pulpits, does want to be cuttin' them -on the tombstones. Look here all around you in what airt ye will. All -them steans, holdin' up their heads as well as they can out of their -pride, is acant, simply tumblin' down with the weight o' the lies -wrote on them, 'Here lies the body' or 'Sacred to the memory' wrote on -all of them, an' yet in nigh half of them there bean't no bodies at -all, an' the memories of them bean't cared a pinch of snuff about, -much less sacred. Lies all of them, nothin' but lies of one kind or -another My gog, but it'll be a quare scowderment at the Day of -Judgment when they come tumblin' up in their deathsarks, all jouped -together an' trying' to drag their tombsteans with them to prove how -good they was, some of them trimmlin' an' dithering, with their hands -that dozzened an' slippery from lyin' in the sea that they can't even -keep their gurp o' them." -I could see from the old fellow's selfsatisfied air and the way in -which he looked round for the approval of his cronies that he was -"showing off," so I put in a word to keep him going. -"Oh, Mr. Swales, you can't be serious. Surely these tombstones are -not all wrong?" -"Yabblins There may be a poorish few not wrong, savin' where they -make out the people too good, for there be folk that do think a -balmbowl be like the sea, if only it be their own. The whole thing -be only lies. Now look you here. You come here a stranger, an' you -see this kirkgarth." -I nodded, for I thought it better to assent, though I did not quite -understand his dialect. I knew it had something to do with the -church. -He went on, "And you consate that all these steans be aboon folk that -be haped here, snod an' snog?" I assented again. "Then that be just -where the lie comes in. Why, there be scores of these laybeds that be -toom as old Dun's 'baccabox on Friday night." -He nudged one of his companions, and they all laughed. "And, my gog -How could they be otherwise? Look at that one, the aftest abaft the -bierbank, read it" -I went over and read, "Edward Spencelagh, master mariner, murdered by -pirates off the coast of Andres, April, , age ." When I came -back Mr. Swales went on, -"Who brought him home, I wonder, to hap him here? Murdered off the -coast of Andres An' you consated his body lay under Why, I could -name ye a dozen whose bones lie in the Greenland seas above," he -pointed northwards, "or where the currants may have drifted them. -There be the steans around ye. Ye can, with your young eyes, read the -small print of the lies from here. This Braithwaite Lowery, I knew -his father, lost in the Lively off Greenland in ', or Andrew -Woodhouse, drowned in the same seas in , or John Paxton, drowned -off Cape Farewell a year later, or old John Rawlings, whose -grandfather sailed with me, drowned in the Gulf of Finland in '. Do -ye think that all these men will have to make a rush to Whitby when -the trumpet sounds? I have me antherums aboot it I tell ye that -when they got here they'd be jommlin' and jostlin' one another that -way that it 'ud be like a fight up on the ice in the old days, when -we'd be at one another from daylight to dark, an' tryin' to tie up our -cuts by the aurora borealis." This was evidently local pleasantry, for -the old man cackled over it, and his cronies joined in with gusto. -"But," I said, "surely you are not quite correct, for you start on the -assumption that all the poor people, or their spirits, will have to -take their tombstones with them on the Day of Judgment. Do you think -that will be really necessary?" -"Well, what else be they tombstones for? Answer me that, miss" -"To please their relatives, I suppose." -"To please their relatives, you suppose" This he said with intense -scorn. "How will it pleasure their relatives to know that lies is -wrote over them, and that everybody in the place knows that they be -lies?" -He pointed to a stone at our feet which had been laid down as a slab, -on which the seat was rested, close to the edge of the cliff. "Read -the lies on that thruffstone," he said. -The letters were upside down to me from where I sat, but Lucy was more -opposite to them, so she leant over and read, "Sacred to the memory of -George Canon, who died, in the hope of a glorious resurrection, on -July ,, falling from the rocks at Kettleness. This tomb was -erected by his sorrowing mother to her dearly beloved son. 'He was the -only son of his mother, and she was a widow.' Really, Mr. Swales, I -don't see anything very funny in that" She spoke her comment very -gravely and somewhat severely. -"Ye don't see aught funny Haha But that's because ye don't gawm -the sorrowin' mother was a hellcat that hated him because he was -acrewk'd, a regular lamiter he was, an' he hated her so that he -committed suicide in order that she mightn't get an insurance she put -on his life. He blew nigh the top of his head off with an old musket -that they had for scarin' crows with. 'Twarn't for crows then, for it -brought the clegs and the dowps to him. That's the way he fell off -the rocks. And, as to hopes of a glorious resurrection, I've often -heard him say masel' that he hoped he'd go to hell, for his mother was -so pious that she'd be sure to go to heaven, an' he didn't want to -addle where she was. Now isn't that stean at any rate," he hammered -it with his stick as he spoke, "a pack of lies? And won't it make -Gabriel keckle when Geordie comes pantin' ut the grees with the -tompstean balanced on his hump, and asks to be took as evidence" -I did not know what to say, but Lucy turned the conversation as she -said, rising up, "Oh, why did you tell us of this? It is my favourite -seat, and I cannot leave it, and now I find I must go on sitting over -the grave of a suicide." -"That won't harm ye, my pretty, an' it may make poor Geordie gladsome -to have so trim a lass sittin' on his lap. That won't hurt ye. Why, -I've sat here off an' on for nigh twenty years past, an' it hasn't -done me no harm. Don't ye fash about them as lies under ye, or that -doesn' lie there either It'll be time for ye to be getting scart -when ye see the tombsteans all run away with, and the place as bare as -a stubblefield. There's the clock, and I must gang. My service to -ye, ladies" And off he hobbled. -Lucy and I sat awhile, and it was all so beautiful before us that we -took hands as we sat, and she told me all over again about Arthur and -their coming marriage. That made me just a little heartsick, for I -haven't heard from Jonathan for a whole month. -The same day. I came up here alone, for I am very sad. There was no -letter for me. I hope there cannot be anything the matter with -Jonathan. The clock has just struck nine. I see the lights scattered -all over the town, sometimes in rows where the streets are, and -sometimes singly. They run right up the Esk and die away in the curve -of the valley. To my left the view is cut off by a black line of roof -of the old house next to the abbey. The sheep and lambs are bleating -in the fields away behind me, and there is a clatter of donkeys' hoofs -up the paved road below. The band on the pier is playing a harsh -waltz in good time, and further along the quay there is a Salvation -Army meeting in a back street. Neither of the bands hears the other, -but up here I hear and see them both. I wonder where Jonathan is and -if he is thinking of me I wish he were here. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - June.The case of Renfield grows more interesting the more I get to -understand the man. He has certain qualities very largely developed, -selfishness, secrecy, and purpose. -I wish I could get at what is the object of the latter. He seems to -have some settled scheme of his own, but what it is I do not know. -His redeeming quality is a love of animals, though, indeed, he has -such curious turns in it that I sometimes imagine he is only -abnormally cruel. His pets are of odd sorts. -Just now his hobby is catching flies. He has at present such a -quantity that I have had myself to expostulate. To my astonishment, -he did not break out into a fury, as I expected, but took the matter -in simple seriousness. He thought for a moment, and then said, "May I -have three days? I shall clear them away." Of course, I said that -would do. I must watch him. - June.He has turned his mind now to spiders, and has got several -very big fellows in a box. He keeps feeding them his flies, and the -number of the latter is becoming sensibly diminished, although he has -used half his food in attracting more flies from outside to his room. - July.His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his -flies, and today I told him that he must get rid of them. -He looked very sad at this, so I said that he must some of them, at -all events. He cheerfully acquiesced in this, and I gave him the same -time as before for reduction. -He disgusted me much while with him, for when a horrid blowfly, -bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, -held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and -before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. -I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and -very wholesome, that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him. -This gave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. I must watch how he -gets rid of his spiders. -He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little -notebook in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of -it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added -up in batches, and then the totals added in batches again, as though -he were focussing some account, as the auditors put it. - July.There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in -my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, -unconscious cerebration, you will have to give the wall to your -conscious brother. -I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice if -there were any change. Things remain as they were except that he has -parted with some of his pets and got a new one. -He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. -His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have -diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still -brings in the flies by tempting them with his food. - JulyWe are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of -sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated. When I -came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour, a -very, very great favour. And as he spoke, he fawned on me like a dog. -I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his -voice and bearing, "A kitten, a nice, little, sleek playful kitten, -that I can play with, and teach, and feed, and feed, and feed" -I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets -went on increasing in size and vivacity, but I did not care that his -pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner -as the flies and spiders. So I said I would see about it, and asked -him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten. -His eagerness betrayed him as he answered, "Oh, yes, I would like a -cat I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. No -one would refuse me a kitten, would they?" -I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be -possible, but that I would see about it. His face fell, and I could -see a warning of danger in it, for there was a sudden fierce, sidelong -look which meant killing. The man is an undeveloped homicidal -maniac. I shall test him with his present craving and see how it will -work out, then I shall know more. - pm.I have visited him again and found him sitting in a corner -brooding. When I came in he threw himself on his knees before me and -implored me to let him have a cat, that his salvation depended upon -it. -I was firm, however, and told him that he could not have it, whereupon -he went without a word, and sat down, gnawing his fingers, in the -corner where I had found him. I shall see him in the morning early. - July.Visited Renfield very early, before attendant went his -rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He was spreading out his -sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning -his fly catching again, and beginning it cheerfully and with a good -grace. -I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where -they were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown -away. There were a few feathers about the room and on his pillow a -drop of blood. I said nothing, but went and told the keeper to report -to me if there were anything odd about him during the day. - am.The attendant has just been to see me to say that Renfield has -been very sick and has disgorged a whole lot of feathers. "My belief -is, doctor," he said, "that he has eaten his birds, and that he just -took and ate them raw" - pm.I gave Renfield a strong opiate tonight, enough to make even -him sleep, and took away his pocketbook to look at it. The thought -that has been buzzing about my brain lately is complete, and the -theory proved. -My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. I shall have to invent a -new classification for him, and call him a zoophagous lifeeating -maniac. What he desires is to absorb as many lives as he can, and he -has laid himself out to achieve it in a cumulative way. He gave many -flies to one spider and many spiders to one bird, and then wanted a -cat to eat the many birds. What would have been his later steps? -It would almost be worth while to complete the experiment. It might -be done if there were only a sufficient cause. Men sneered at -vivisection, and yet look at its results today Why not advance -science in its most difficult and vital aspect, the knowledge of the -brain? -Had I even the secret of one such mind, did I hold the key to the -fancy of even one lunatic, I might advance my own branch of science to -a pitch compared with which BurdonSanderson's physiology or Ferrier's -brain knowledge would be as nothing. If only there were a sufficient -cause I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted. A -good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an -exceptional brain, congenitally? -How well the man reasoned. Lunatics always do within their own scope. -I wonder at how many lives he values a man, or if at only one. He has -closed the account most accurately, and today begun a new record. How -many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives? -To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new -hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it shall be until the -Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance -to profit or loss. -Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my -friend whose happiness is yours, but I must only wait on hopeless and -work. Work Work -If I could have as strong a cause as my poor mad friend there, a good, -unselfish cause to make me work, that would be indeed happiness. -MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL - July.I am anxious, and it soothes me to express myself here. It -is like whispering to one's self and listening at the same time. And -there is also something about the shorthand symbols that makes it -different from writing. I am unhappy about Lucy and about Jonathan. -I had not heard from Jonathan for some time, and was very concerned, -but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always so kind, sent me a -letter from him. I had written asking him if he had heard, and he -said the enclosed had just been received. It is only a line dated -from Castle Dracula, and says that he is just starting for home. That -is not like Jonathan. I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy. -Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old -habit of walking in her sleep. Her mother has spoken to me about it, -and we have decided that I am to lock the door of our room every -night. -Mrs. Westenra has got an idea that sleepwalkers always go out on -roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then get suddenly -wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all over the -place. -Poor dear, she is naturally anxious about Lucy, and she tells me that -her husband, Lucy's father, had the same habit, that he would get up -in the night and dress himself and go out, if he were not stopped. -Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is already planning out -her dresses and how her house is to be arranged. I sympathise with -her, for I do the same, only Jonathan and I will start in life in a -very simple way, and shall have to try to make both ends meet. -Mr. Holmwood, he is the Hon. Arthur Holmwood, only son of Lord -Godalming, is coming up here very shortly, as soon as he can leave -town, for his father is not very well, and I think dear Lucy is -counting the moments till he comes. -She wants to take him up in the seat on the churchyard cliff and show -him the beauty of Whitby. I daresay it is the waiting which disturbs -her. She will be all right when he arrives. - July.No news from Jonathan. I am getting quite uneasy about him, -though why I should I do not know, but I do wish that he would write, -if it were only a single line. -Lucy walks more than ever, and each night I am awakened by her moving -about the room. Fortunately, the weather is so hot that she cannot -get cold. But still, the anxiety and the perpetually being awakened -is beginning to tell on me, and I am getting nervous and wakeful -myself. Thank God, Lucy's health keeps up. Mr. Holmwood has been -suddenly called to Ring to see his father, who has been taken -seriously ill. Lucy frets at the postponement of seeing him, but it -does not touch her looks. She is a trifle stouter, and her cheeks are -a lovely rosepink. She has lost the anemic look which she had. I -pray it will all last. - August.Another week gone by, and no news from Jonathan, not even -to Mr. Hawkins, from whom I have heard. Oh, I do hope he is not ill. -He surely would have written. I look at that last letter of his, but -somehow it does not satisfy me. It does not read like him, and yet it -is his writing. There is no mistake of that. -Lucy has not walked much in her sleep the last week, but there is an -odd concentration about her which I do not understand, even in her -sleep she seems to be watching me. She tries the door, and finding it -locked, goes about the room searching for the key. - August.Another three days, and no news. This suspense is getting -dreadful. If I only knew where to write to or where to go to, I -should feel easier. But no one has heard a word of Jonathan since -that last letter. I must only pray to God for patience. -Lucy is more excitable than ever, but is otherwise well. Last night -was very threatening, and the fishermen say that we are in for a -storm. I must try to watch it and learn the weather signs. -Today is a gray day, and the sun as I write is hidden in thick clouds, -high over Kettleness. Everything is gray except the green grass, -which seems like emerald amongst it, gray earthy rock, gray clouds, -tinged with the sunburst at the far edge, hang over the gray sea, into -which the sandpoints stretch like gray figures. The sea is tumbling -in over the shallows and the sandy flats with a roar, muffled in the -seamists drifting inland. The horizon is lost in a gray mist. All -vastness, the clouds are piled up like giant rocks, and there is a -'brool' over the sea that sounds like some passage of doom. Dark -figures are on the beach here and there, sometimes half shrouded in -the mist, and seem 'men like trees walking'. The fishing boats are -racing for home, and rise and dip in the ground swell as they sweep -into the harbour, bending to the scuppers. Here comes old Mr. Swales. -He is making straight for me, and I can see, by the way he lifts his -hat, that he wants to talk. -I have been quite touched by the change in the poor old man. When he -sat down beside me, he said in a very gentle way, "I want to say -something to you, miss." -I could see he was not at ease, so I took his poor old wrinkled hand in -mine and asked him to speak fully. -So he said, leaving his hand in mine, "I'm afraid, my deary, that I -must have shocked you by all the wicked things I've been sayin' about -the dead, and such like, for weeks past, but I didn't mean them, and I -want ye to remember that when I'm gone. We aud folks that be daffled, -and with one foot abaft the krokhooal, don't altogether like to think -of it, and we don't want to feel scart of it, and that's why I've took -to makin' light of it, so that I'd cheer up my own heart a bit. But, -Lord love ye, miss, I ain't afraid of dyin', not a bit, only I don't -want to die if I can help it. My time must be nigh at hand now, for I -be aud, and a hundred years is too much for any man to expect. And -I'm so nigh it that the Aud Man is already whettin' his scythe. Ye -see, I can't get out o' the habit of caffin' about it all at once. -The chafts will wag as they be used to. Some day soon the Angel of -Death will sound his trumpet for me. But don't ye dooal an' greet, my -deary"for he saw that I was crying"if he should come this very -night I'd not refuse to answer his call. For life be, after all, only -a waitin' for somethin' else than what we're doin', and death be all -that we can rightly depend on. But I'm content, for it's comin' to -me, my deary, and comin' quick. It may be comin' while we be lookin' -and wonderin'. Maybe it's in that wind out over the sea that's -bringin' with it loss and wreck, and sore distress, and sad hearts. -Look Look" he cried suddenly. "There's something in that wind and -in the hoast beyont that sounds, and looks, and tastes, and smells -like death. It's in the air. I feel it comin'. Lord, make me answer -cheerful, when my call comes" He held up his arms devoutly, and -raised his hat. His mouth moved as though he were praying. After a -few minutes' silence, he got up, shook hands with me, and blessed me, -and said goodbye, and hobbled off. It all touched me, and upset me -very much. -I was glad when the coastguard came along, with his spyglass under his -arm. He stopped to talk with me, as he always does, but all the time -kept looking at a strange ship. -"I can't make her out," he said. "She's a Russian, by the look of -her. But she's knocking about in the queerest way. She doesn't know -her mind a bit. She seems to see the storm coming, but can't decide -whether to run up north in the open, or to put in here. Look there -again She is steered mighty strangely, for she doesn't mind the hand -on the wheel, changes about with every puff of wind. We'll hear more -of her before this time tomorrow." -CHAPTER -CUTTING FROM "THE DAILYGRAPH", AUGUST -PASTED IN MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL -From a correspondent. -Whitby. -One of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been -experienced here, with results both strange and unique. The weather -had been somewhat sultry, but not to any degree uncommon in the -month of August. Saturday evening was as fine as was ever known, -and the great body of holidaymakers laid out yesterday for visits -to Mulgrave Woods, Robin Hood's Bay, Rig Mill, Runswick, Staithes, -and the various trips in the neighborhood of Whitby. The steamers -Emma and Scarborough made trips up and down the coast, and there was -an unusual amount of 'tripping' both to and from Whitby. The day -was unusually fine till the afternoon, when some of the gossips who -frequent the East Cliff churchyard, and from the commanding eminence -watch the wide sweep of sea visible to the north and east, called -attention to a sudden show of 'mares tails' high in the sky to the -northwest. The wind was then blowing from the southwest in the -mild degree which in barometrical language is ranked 'No. , light -breeze.' -The coastguard on duty at once made report, and one old fisherman, -who for more than half a century has kept watch on weather signs -from the East Cliff, foretold in an emphatic manner the coming of a -sudden storm. The approach of sunset was so very beautiful, so -grand in its masses of splendidly coloured clouds, that there was -quite an assemblage on the walk along the cliff in the old -churchyard to enjoy the beauty. Before the sun dipped below the -black mass of Kettleness, standing boldly athwart the western sky, -its downward way was marked by myriad clouds of every sunset colour, -flame, purple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints of gold, with -here and there masses not large, but of seemingly absolute -blackness, in all sorts of shapes, as well outlined as colossal -silhouettes. The experience was not lost on the painters, and -doubtless some of the sketches of the 'Prelude to the Great Storm' -will grace the R. A and R. I. walls in May next. -More than one captain made up his mind then and there that his -'cobble' or his 'mule', as they term the different classes of boats, -would remain in the harbour till the storm had passed. The wind -fell away entirely during the evening, and at midnight there was a -dead calm, a sultry heat, and that prevailing intensity which, on -the approach of thunder, affects persons of a sensitive nature. -There were but few lights in sight at sea, for even the coasting -steamers, which usually hug the shore so closely, kept well to -seaward, and but few fishing boats were in sight. The only sail -noticeable was a foreign schooner with all sails set, which was -seemingly going westwards. The foolhardiness or ignorance of her -officers was a prolific theme for comment whilst she remained in -sight, and efforts were made to signal her to reduce sail in the -face of her danger. Before the night shut down she was seen with -sails idly flapping as she gently rolled on the undulating swell of -the sea. -"As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean." -Shortly before ten o'clock the stillness of the air grew quite -oppressive, and the silence was so marked that the bleating of a -sheep inland or the barking of a dog in the town was distinctly -heard, and the band on the pier, with its lively French air, was -like a dischord in the great harmony of nature's silence. A little -after midnight came a strange sound from over the sea, and high -overhead the air began to carry a strange, faint, hollow booming. -Then without warning the tempest broke. With a rapidity which, at -the time, seemed incredible, and even afterwards is impossible to -realize, the whole aspect of nature at once became convulsed. The -waves rose in growing fury, each overtopping its fellow, till in a -very few minutes the lately glassy sea was like a roaring and -devouring monster. Whitecrested waves beat madly on the level -sands and rushed up the shelving cliffs. Others broke over the -piers, and with their spume swept the lanthorns of the lighthouses -which rise from the end of either pier of Whitby Harbour. -The wind roared like thunder, and blew with such force that it was -with difficulty that even strong men kept their feet, or clung with -grim clasp to the iron stanchions. It was found necessary to clear -the entire pier from the mass of onlookers, or else the fatalities -of the night would have increased manifold. To add to the -difficulties and dangers of the time, masses of seafog came -drifting inland. White, wet clouds, which swept by in ghostly -fashion, so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort -of imagination to think that the spirits of those lost at sea were -touching their living brethren with the clammy hands of death, and -many a one shuddered as the wreaths of seamist swept by. -At times the mist cleared, and the sea for some distance could be -seen in the glare of the lightning, which came thick and fast, -followed by such peals of thunder that the whole sky overhead seemed -trembling under the shock of the footsteps of the storm. -Some of the scenes thus revealed were of immeasurable grandeur and -of absorbing interest. The sea, running mountains high, threw -skywards with each wave mighty masses of white foam, which the -tempest seemed to snatch at and whirl away into space. Here and -there a fishing boat, with a rag of sail, running madly for shelter -before the blast, now and again the white wings of a stormtossed -seabird. On the summit of the East Cliff the new searchlight was -ready for experiment, but had not yet been tried. The officers in -charge of it got it into working order, and in the pauses of -onrushing mist swept with it the surface of the sea. Once or twice -its service was most effective, as when a fishing boat, with gunwale -under water, rushed into the harbour, able, by the guidance of the -sheltering light, to avoid the danger of dashing against the piers. -As each boat achieved the safety of the port there was a shout of -joy from the mass of people on the shore, a shout which for a moment -seemed to cleave the gale and was then swept away in its rush. -Before long the searchlight discovered some distance away a schooner -with all sails set, apparently the same vessel which had been -noticed earlier in the evening. The wind had by this time backed to -the east, and there was a shudder amongst the watchers on the cliff -as they realized the terrible danger in which she now was. -Between her and the port lay the great flat reef on which so many -good ships have from time to time suffered, and, with the wind -blowing from its present quarter, it would be quite impossible that -she should fetch the entrance of the harbour. -It was now nearly the hour of high tide, but the waves were so great -that in their troughs the shallows of the shore were almost visible, -and the schooner, with all sails set, was rushing with such speed -that, in the words of one old salt, "she must fetch up somewhere, if -it was only in hell". Then came another rush of seafog, greater -than any hitherto, a mass of dank mist, which seemed to close on all -things like a gray pall, and left available to men only the organ of -hearing, for the roar of the tempest, and the crash of the thunder, -and the booming of the mighty billows came through the damp oblivion -even louder than before. The rays of the searchlight were kept fixed -on the harbour mouth across the East Pier, where the shock was -expected, and men waited breathless. -The wind suddenly shifted to the northeast, and the remnant of the -sea fog melted in the blast. And then, mirabile dictu, between the -piers, leaping from wave to wave as it rushed at headlong speed, -swept the strange schooner before the blast, with all sail set, and -gained the safety of the harbour. The searchlight followed her, and -a shudder ran through all who saw her, for lashed to the helm was a -corpse, with drooping head, which swung horribly to and fro at each -motion of the ship. No other form could be seen on the deck at all. -A great awe came on all as they realised that the ship, as if by a -miracle, had found the harbour, unsteered save by the hand of a dead -man However, all took place more quickly than it takes to write -these words. The schooner paused not, but rushing across the -harbour, pitched herself on that accumulation of sand and gravel -washed by many tides and many storms into the southeast corner of -the pier jutting under the East Cliff, known locally as Tate Hill -Pier. -There was of course a considerable concussion as the vessel drove up -on the sand heap. Every spar, rope, and stay was strained, and some -of the 'tophammer' came crashing down. But, strangest of all, the -very instant the shore was touched, an immense dog sprang up on deck -from below, as if shot up by the concussion, and running forward, -jumped from the bow on the sand. -Making straight for the steep cliff, where the churchyard hangs over -the laneway to the East Pier so steeply that some of the flat -tombstones, thruffsteans or throughstones, as they call them in -Whitby vernacular, actually project over where the sustaining cliff -has fallen away, it disappeared in the darkness, which seemed -intensified just beyond the focus of the searchlight. -It so happened that there was no one at the moment on Tate Hill -Pier, as all those whose houses are in close proximity were either -in bed or were out on the heights above. Thus the coastguard on -duty on the eastern side of the harbour, who at once ran down to the -little pier, was the first to climb aboard. The men working the -searchlight, after scouring the entrance of the harbour without -seeing anything, then turned the light on the derelict and kept it -there. The coastguard ran aft, and when he came beside the wheel, -bent over to examine it, and recoiled at once as though under some -sudden emotion. This seemed to pique general curiosity, and quite a -number of people began to run. -It is a good way round from the West Cliff by the Drawbridge to -Tate Hill Pier, but your correspondent is a fairly good runner, and -came well ahead of the crowd. When I arrived, however, I found -already assembled on the pier a crowd, whom the coastguard and -police refused to allow to come on board. By the courtesy of the -chief boatman, I was, as your correspondent, permitted to climb on -deck, and was one of a small group who saw the dead seaman whilst -actually lashed to the wheel. -It was no wonder that the coastguard was surprised, or even awed, -for not often can such a sight have been seen. The man was simply -fastened by his hands, tied one over the other, to a spoke of the -wheel. Between the inner hand and the wood was a crucifix, the set -of beads on which it was fastened being around both wrists and -wheel, and all kept fast by the binding cords. The poor fellow may -have been seated at one time, but the flapping and buffeting of the -sails had worked through the rudder of the wheel and had dragged him -to and fro, so that the cords with which he was tied had cut the -flesh to the bone. -Accurate note was made of the state of things, and a doctor, Surgeon -J. M. Caffyn, of , East Elliot Place, who came immediately after -me, declared, after making examination, that the man must have been -dead for quite two days. -In his pocket was a bottle, carefully corked, empty save for -a little roll of paper, which proved to be the addendum to -the log. -The coastguard said the man must have tied up his own hands, -fastening the knots with his teeth. The fact that a coastguard was -the first on board may save some complications later on, in the -Admiralty Court, for coastguards cannot claim the salvage which is -the right of the first civilian entering on a derelict. Already, -however, the legal tongues are wagging, and one young law student is -loudly asserting that the rights of the owner are already completely -sacrificed, his property being held in contravention of the statues -of mortmain, since the tiller, as emblemship, if not proof, of -delegated possession, is held in a dead hand. -It is needless to say that the dead steersman has been reverently -removed from the place where he held his honourable watch and ward -till death, a steadfastness as noble as that of the young -Casabianca, and placed in the mortuary to await inquest. -Already the sudden storm is passing, and its fierceness is -abating. Crowds are scattering backward, and the sky is -beginning to redden over the Yorkshire wolds. -I shall send, in time for your next issue, further details -of the derelict ship which found her way so miraculously -into harbour in the storm. - August.The sequel to the strange arrival of the derelict in the -storm last night is almost more startling than the thing itself. It -turns out that the schooner is Russian from Varna, and is called the -Demeter. She is almost entirely in ballast of silver sand, with -only a small amount of cargo, a number of great wooden boxes filled -with mould. -This cargo was consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. S.F. Billington, -of , The Crescent, who this morning went aboard and took formal -possession of the goods consigned to him. -The Russian consul, too, acting for the charterparty, took formal -possession of the ship, and paid all harbour dues, etc. -Nothing is talked about here today except the strange coincidence. -The officials of the Board of Trade have been most exacting in -seeing that every compliance has been made with existing -regulations. As the matter is to be a 'nine days wonder', they are -evidently determined that there shall be no cause of other -complaint. -A good deal of interest was abroad concerning the dog which landed -when the ship struck, and more than a few of the members of the -S.P.C.A., which is very strong in Whitby, have tried to befriend the -animal. To the general disappointment, however, it was not to be -found. It seems to have disappeared entirely from the town. It may -be that it was frightened and made its way on to the moors, where it -is still hiding in terror. -There are some who look with dread on such a possibility, lest later -on it should in itself become a danger, for it is evidently a fierce -brute. Early this morning a large dog, a halfbred mastiff -belonging to a coal merchant close to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead -in the roadway opposite its master's yard. It had been fighting, -and manifestly had had a savage opponent, for its throat was torn -away, and its belly was slit open as if with a savage claw. -Later.By the kindness of the Board of Trade inspector, I have been -permitted to look over the log book of the Demeter, which was in -order up to within three days, but contained nothing of special -interest except as to facts of missing men. The greatest interest, -however, is with regard to the paper found in the bottle, which was -today produced at the inquest. And a more strange narrative than -the two between them unfold it has not been my lot to come across. -As there is no motive for concealment, I am permitted to use them, -and accordingly send you a transcript, simply omitting technical -details of seamanship and supercargo. It almost seems as though the -captain had been seized with some kind of mania before he had got -well into blue water, and that this had developed persistently -throughout the voyage. Of course my statement must be taken cum -grano, since I am writing from the dictation of a clerk of the -Russian consul, who kindly translated for me, time being short. -LOG OF THE "DEMETER" Varna to Whitby -Written July, things so strange happening, that I shall -keep accurate note henceforth till we land. -On July we finished taking in cargo, silver sand and boxes -of earth. At noon set sail. East wind, fresh. Crew, five -hands . . . two mates, cook, and myself, captain. -On July at dawn entered Bosphorus. Boarded by Turkish -Customs officers. Backsheesh. All correct. Under way at - p.m. -On July through Dardanelles. More Customs officers and -flagboat of guarding squadron. Backsheesh again. Work of -officers thorough, but quick. Want us off soon. At dark -passed into Archipelago. -On July passed Cape Matapan. Crew dissatisfied about -something. Seemed scared, but would not speak out. -On July was somewhat anxious about crew. Men all steady -fellows, who sailed with me before. Mate could not make out what -was wrong. They only told him there was SOMETHING, and crossed -themselves. Mate lost temper with one of them that day and struck -him. Expected fierce quarrel, but all was quiet. -On July mate reported in the morning that one of the -crew, Petrofsky, was missing. Could not account for it. -Took larboard watch eight bells last night, was relieved by -Amramoff, but did not go to bunk. Men more downcast than -ever. All said they expected something of the kind, but -would not say more than there was SOMETHING aboard. Mate -getting very impatient with them. Feared some trouble -ahead. -On July, yesterday, one of the men, Olgaren, came to my cabin, -and in an awestruck way confided to me that he thought there was a -strange man aboard the ship. He said that in his watch he had -been sheltering behind the deckhouse, as there was a rain storm, -when he saw a tall, thin man, who was not like any of the crew, -come up the companionway, and go along the deck forward and -disappear. He followed cautiously, but when he got to bows found -no one, and the hatchways were all closed. He was in a panic of -superstitious fear, and I am afraid the panic may spread. To -allay it, I shall today search the entire ship carefully from stem -to stern. -Later in the day I got together the whole crew, and told them, as -they evidently thought there was some one in the ship, we would -search from stem to stern. First mate angry, said it was folly, -and to yield to such foolish ideas would demoralise the men, said -he would engage to keep them out of trouble with the handspike. I -let him take the helm, while the rest began a thorough search, all -keeping abreast, with lanterns. We left no corner unsearched. As -there were only the big wooden boxes, there were no odd corners -where a man could hide. Men much relieved when search over, and -went back to work cheerfully. First mate scowled, but said -nothing. - July.Rough weather last three days, and all hands busy -with sails, no time to be frightened. Men seem to have -forgotten their dread. Mate cheerful again, and all on -good terms. Praised men for work in bad weather. Passed -Gibraltar and out through Straits. All well. - July.There seems some doom over this ship. Already a hand -short, and entering the Bay of Biscay with wild weather ahead, and -yet last night another man lost, disappeared. Like the first, he -came off his watch and was not seen again. Men all in a panic of -fear, sent a round robin, asking to have double watch, as they -fear to be alone. Mate angry. Fear there will be some trouble, -as either he or the men will do some violence. - July.Four days in hell, knocking about in a sort of -maelstrom, and the wind a tempest. No sleep for any one. -Men all worn out. Hardly know how to set a watch, since no -one fit to go on. Second mate volunteered to steer and -watch, and let men snatch a few hours sleep. Wind abating, -seas still terrific, but feel them less, as ship is -steadier. - July.Another tragedy. Had single watch tonight, as crew too -tired to double. When morning watch came on deck could find no -one except steersman. Raised outcry, and all came on deck. -Thorough search, but no one found. Are now without second mate, -and crew in a panic. Mate and I agreed to go armed henceforth and -wait for any sign of cause. - July.Last night. Rejoiced we are nearing England. Weather -fine, all sails set. Retired worn out, slept soundly, awakened by -mate telling me that both man of watch and steersman missing. -Only self and mate and two hands left to work ship. - August.Two days of fog, and not a sail sighted. Had hoped -when in the English Channel to be able to signal for help or get -in somewhere. Not having power to work sails, have to run before -wind. Dare not lower, as could not raise them again. We seem to -be drifting to some terrible doom. Mate now more demoralised than -either of men. His stronger nature seems to have worked inwardly -against himself. Men are beyond fear, working stolidly and -patiently, with minds made up to worst. They are Russian, he -Roumanian. - August, midnight.Woke up from few minutes sleep by hearing a -cry, seemingly outside my port. Could see nothing in fog. Rushed -on deck, and ran against mate. Tells me he heard cry and ran, but -no sign of man on watch. One more gone. Lord, help us Mate -says we must be past Straits of Dover, as in a moment of fog -lifting he saw North Foreland, just as he heard the man cry out. -If so we are now off in the North Sea, and only God can guide us -in the fog, which seems to move with us, and God seems to have -deserted us. - August.At midnight I went to relieve the man at the -wheel and when I got to it found no one there. The wind -was steady, and as we ran before it there was no yawing. I -dared not leave it, so shouted for the mate. After a few -seconds, he rushed up on deck in his flannels. He looked -wildeyed and haggard, and I greatly fear his reason has -given way. He came close to me and whispered hoarsely, -with his mouth to my ear, as though fearing the very air -might hear. "It is here. I know it now. On the watch -last night I saw It, like a man, tall and thin, and ghastly -pale. It was in the bows, and looking out. I crept behind -It, and gave it my knife, but the knife went through It, -empty as the air." And as he spoke he took the knife and -drove it savagely into space. Then he went on, "But It is -here, and I'll find It. It is in the hold, perhaps in one -of those boxes. I'll unscrew them one by one and see. You -work the helm." And with a warning look and his finger on -his lip, he went below. There was springing up a choppy -wind, and I could not leave the helm. I saw him come out -on deck again with a tool chest and lantern, and go down -the forward hatchway. He is mad, stark, raving mad, and -it's no use my trying to stop him. He can't hurt those big -boxes, they are invoiced as clay, and to pull them about is -as harmless a thing as he can do. So here I stay and mind -the helm, and write these notes. I can only trust in God -and wait till the fog clears. Then, if I can't steer to -any harbour with the wind that is, I shall cut down sails, -and lie by, and signal for help . . . -It is nearly all over now. Just as I was beginning to hope -that the mate would come out calmer, for I heard him -knocking away at something in the hold, and work is good -for him, there came up the hatchway a sudden, startled -scream, which made my blood run cold, and up on the deck he -came as if shot from a gun, a raging madman, with his eyes -rolling and his face convulsed with fear. "Save me Save -me" he cried, and then looked round on the blanket of fog. -His horror turned to despair, and in a steady voice he -said, "You had better come too, captain, before it is too -late. He is there I know the secret now. The sea will -save me from Him, and it is all that is left" Before I -could say a word, or move forward to seize him, he sprang -on the bulwark and deliberately threw himself into the sea. -I suppose I know the secret too, now. It was this madman -who had got rid of the men one by one, and now he has -followed them himself. God help me How am I to account -for all these horrors when I get to port? When I get to -port Will that ever be? - August.Still fog, which the sunrise cannot pierce, I -know there is sunrise because I am a sailor, why else I -know not. I dared not go below, I dared not leave the -helm, so here all night I stayed, and in the dimness of the -night I saw it, Him God, forgive me, but the mate was -right to jump overboard. It was better to die like a man. -To die like a sailor in blue water, no man can object. But -I am captain, and I must not leave my ship. But I shall -baffle this fiend or monster, for I shall tie my hands to -the wheel when my strength begins to fail, and along with -them I shall tie that which He, It, dare not touch. And -then, come good wind or foul, I shall save my soul, and my -honour as a captain. I am growing weaker, and the night is -coming on. If He can look me in the face again, I may not -have time to act. . . If we are wrecked, mayhap this bottle -may be found, and those who find it may understand. If -not . . . well, then all men shall know that I have been -true to my trust. God and the Blessed Virgin and the -Saints help a poor ignorant soul trying to do his duty . . . -Of course the verdict was an open one. There is no evidence -to adduce, and whether or not the man himself committed the -murders there is now none to say. The folk here hold almost -universally that the captain is simply a hero, and he is to be -given a public funeral. Already it is arranged that his body -is to be taken with a train of boats up the Esk for a piece -and then brought back to Tate Hill Pier and up the abbey steps, -for he is to be buried in the churchyard on the cliff. The -owners of more than a hundred boats have already given in their -names as wishing to follow him to the grave. -No trace has ever been found of the great dog, at which there is -much mourning, for, with public opinion in its present state, he -would, I believe, be adopted by the town. Tomorrow will see the -funeral, and so will end this one more 'mystery of the sea'. -MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL - August.Lucy was very restless all night, and I too, could not -sleep. The storm was fearful, and as it boomed loudly among the -chimney pots, it made me shudder. When a sharp puff came it seemed to -be like a distant gun. Strangely enough, Lucy did not wake, but she -got up twice and dressed herself. Fortunately, each time I awoke in -time and managed to undress her without waking her, and got her back to -bed. It is a very strange thing, this sleepwalking, for as soon as -her will is thwarted in any physical way, her intention, if there be -any, disappears, and she yields herself almost exactly to the routine -of her life. -Early in the morning we both got up and went down to the harbour to see -if anything had happened in the night. There were very few people -about, and though the sun was bright, and the air clear and fresh, the -big, grimlooking waves, that seemed dark themselves because the foam -that topped them was like snow, forced themselves in through the mouth -of the harbour, like a bullying man going through a crowd. Somehow I -felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night, but on land. -But, oh, is he on land or sea? Where is he, and how? I am getting -fearfully anxious about him. If I only knew what to do, and could do -anything - August.The funeral of the poor sea captain today was most -touching. Every boat in the harbour seemed to be there, and the coffin -was carried by captains all the way from Tate Hill Pier up to the -churchyard. Lucy came with me, and we went early to our old seat, -whilst the cortege of boats went up the river to the Viaduct and came -down again. We had a lovely view, and saw the procession nearly all -the way. The poor fellow was laid to rest near our seat so that we -stood on it, when the time came and saw everything. -Poor Lucy seemed much upset. She was restless and uneasy all the time, -and I cannot but think that her dreaming at night is telling on her. -She is quite odd in one thing. She will not admit to me that there is -any cause for restlessness, or if there be, she does not understand it -herself. -There is an additional cause in that poor Mr. Swales was found dead -this morning on our seat, his neck being broken. He had evidently, as -the doctor said, fallen back in the seat in some sort of fright, for -there was a look of fear and horror on his face that the men said made -them shudder. Poor dear old man -Lucy is so sweet and sensitive that she feels influences more acutely -than other people do. Just now she was quite upset by a little thing -which I did not much heed, though I am myself very fond of animals. -One of the men who came up here often to look for the boats was -followed by his dog. The dog is always with him. They are both quiet -persons, and I never saw the man angry, nor heard the dog bark. During -the service the dog would not come to its master, who was on the seat -with us, but kept a few yards off, barking and howling. Its master -spoke to it gently, and then harshly, and then angrily. But it would -neither come nor cease to make a noise. It was in a fury, with its -eyes savage, and all its hair bristling out like a cat's tail when puss -is on the war path. -Finally the man too got angry, and jumped down and kicked the dog, and -then took it by the scruff of the neck and half dragged and half threw -it on the tombstone on which the seat is fixed. The moment it touched -the stone the poor thing began to tremble. It did not try to get away, -but crouched down, quivering and cowering, and was in such a pitiable -state of terror that I tried, though without effect, to comfort it. -Lucy was full of pity, too, but she did not attempt to touch the dog, -but looked at it in an agonised sort of way. I greatly fear that she -is of too super sensitive a nature to go through the world without -trouble. She will be dreaming of this tonight, I am sure. The whole -agglomeration of things, the ship steered into port by a dead man, his -attitude, tied to the wheel with a crucifix and beads, the touching -funeral, the dog, now furious and now in terror, will all afford -material for her dreams. -I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out physically, so I -shall take her for a long walk by the cliffs to Robin Hood's Bay and -back. She ought not to have much inclination for sleepwalking then. -CHAPTER -MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL -Same day, o'clock P.M.Oh, but I am tired If it were not that I -had made my diary a duty I should not open it tonight. We had a lovely -walk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits, owing, I think, to some -dear cows who came nosing towards us in a field close to the -lighthouse, and frightened the wits out of us. I believe we forgot -everything, except of course, personal fear, and it seemed to wipe the -slate clean and give us a fresh start. We had a capital 'severe tea' -at Robin Hood's Bay in a sweet little oldfashioned inn, with a bow -window right over the seaweedcovered rocks of the strand. I believe -we should have shocked the 'New Woman' with our appetites. Men are -more tolerant, bless them Then we walked home with some, or rather -many, stoppages to rest, and with our hearts full of a constant dread -of wild bulls. -Lucy was really tired, and we intended to creep off to bed as soon as -we could. The young curate came in, however, and Mrs. Westenra asked -him to stay for supper. Lucy and I had both a fight for it with the -dusty miller. I know it was a hard fight on my part, and I am quite -heroic. I think that some day the bishops must get together and see -about breeding up a new class of curates, who don't take supper, no -matter how hard they may be pressed to, and who will know when girls -are tired. -Lucy is asleep and breathing softly. She has more colour in her cheeks -than usual, and looks, oh so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with -her seeing her only in the drawing room, I wonder what he would say if -he saw her now. Some of the 'New Women' writers will some day start an -idea that men and women should be allowed to see each other asleep -before proposing or accepting. But I suppose the 'New Woman' won't -condescend in future to accept. She will do the proposing herself. And -a nice job she will make of it too There's some consolation in that. -I am so happy tonight, because dear Lucy seems better. I really -believe she has turned the corner, and that we are over her troubles -with dreaming. I should be quite happy if I only knew if Jonathan . . . -God bless and keep him. - August.Diary again. No sleep now, so I may as well write. I am -too agitated to sleep. We have had such an adventure, such an -agonizing experience. I fell asleep as soon as I had closed my diary. -. . . Suddenly I became broad awake, and sat up, with a horrible sense -of fear upon me, and of some feeling of emptiness around me. The room -was dark, so I could not see Lucy's bed. I stole across and felt for -her. The bed was empty. I lit a match and found that she was not in -the room. The door was shut, but not locked, as I had left it. I feared -to wake her mother, who has been more than usually ill lately, so threw -on some clothes and got ready to look for her. As I was leaving the -room it struck me that the clothes she wore might give me some clue to -her dreaming intention. Dressinggown would mean house, dress outside. -Dressinggown and dress were both in their places. "Thank God," I said -to myself, "she cannot be far, as she is only in her nightdress." -I ran downstairs and looked in the sitting room. Not there Then I -looked in all the other rooms of the house, with an evergrowing fear -chilling my heart. Finally, I came to the hall door and found it open. -It was not wide open, but the catch of the lock had not caught. The -people of the house are careful to lock the door every night, so I -feared that Lucy must have gone out as she was. There was no time to -think of what might happen. A vague overmastering fear obscured all -details. -I took a big, heavy shawl and ran out. The clock was striking one as I -was in the Crescent, and there was not a soul in sight. I ran along -the North Terrace, but could see no sign of the white figure which I -expected. At the edge of the West Cliff above the pier I looked across -the harbour to the East Cliff, in the hope or fear, I don't know which, -of seeing Lucy in our favourite seat. -There was a bright full moon, with heavy black, driving clouds, which -threw the whole scene into a fleeting diorama of light and shade as -they sailed across. For a moment or two I could see nothing, as the -shadow of a cloud obscured St. Mary's Church and all around it. Then -as the cloud passed I could see the ruins of the abbey coming into -view, and as the edge of a narrow band of light as sharp as a swordcut -moved along, the church and churchyard became gradually visible. -Whatever my expectation was, it was not disappointed, for there, on our -favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a halfreclining -figure, snowy white. The coming of the cloud was too quick for me to -see much, for shadow shut down on light almost immediately, but it -seemed to me as though something dark stood behind the seat where the -white figure shone, and bent over it. What it was, whether man or -beast, I could not tell. -I did not wait to catch another glance, but flew down the steep steps -to the pier and along by the fishmarket to the bridge, which was the -only way to reach the East Cliff. The town seemed as dead, for not a -soul did I see. I rejoiced that it was so, for I wanted no witness of -poor Lucy's condition. The time and distance seemed endless, and my -knees trembled and my breath came laboured as I toiled up the endless -steps to the abbey. I must have gone fast, and yet it seemed to me as -if my feet were weighted with lead, and as though every joint in my -body were rusty. -When I got almost to the top I could see the seat and the white figure, -for I was now close enough to distinguish it even through the spells of -shadow. There was undoubtedly something, long and black, bending over -the halfreclining white figure. I called in fright, "Lucy Lucy" -and something raised a head, and from where I was I could see a white -face and red, gleaming eyes. -Lucy did not answer, and I ran on to the entrance of the churchyard. -As I entered, the church was between me and the seat, and for a minute -or so I lost sight of her. When I came in view again the cloud had -passed, and the moonlight struck so brilliantly that I could see Lucy -half reclining with her head lying over the back of the seat. She was -quite alone, and there was not a sign of any living thing about. -When I bent over her I could see that she was still asleep. Her lips -were parted, and she was breathing, not softly as usual with her, but -in long, heavy gasps, as though striving to get her lungs full at every -breath. As I came close, she put up her hand in her sleep and pulled -the collar of her nightdress close around her, as though she felt the -cold. I flung the warm shawl over her, and drew the edges tight around -her neck, for I dreaded lest she should get some deadly chill from the -night air, unclad as she was. I feared to wake her all at once, so, in -order to have my hands free to help her, I fastened the shawl at her -throat with a big safety pin. But I must have been clumsy in my -anxiety and pinched or pricked her with it, for byandby, when her -breathing became quieter, she put her hand to her throat again and -moaned. When I had her carefully wrapped up I put my shoes on her -feet, and then began very gently to wake her. -At first she did not respond, but gradually she became more and more -uneasy in her sleep, moaning and sighing occasionally. At last, as -time was passing fast, and for many other reasons, I wished to get her -home at once, I shook her forcibly, till finally she opened her eyes -and awoke. She did not seem surprised to see me, as, of course, she -did not realize all at once where she was. -Lucy always wakes prettily, and even at such a time, when her body must -have been chilled with cold, and her mind somewhat appalled at waking -unclad in a churchyard at night, she did not lose her grace. She -trembled a little, and clung to me. When I told her to come at once -with me home, she rose without a word, with the obedience of a child. -As we passed along, the gravel hurt my feet, and Lucy noticed me wince. -She stopped and wanted to insist upon my taking my shoes, but I would -not. However, when we got to the pathway outside the chruchyard, where -there was a puddle of water, remaining from the storm, I daubed my feet -with mud, using each foot in turn on the other, so that as we went -home, no one, in case we should meet any one, should notice my bare -feet. -Fortune favoured us, and we got home without meeting a soul. Once we -saw a man, who seemed not quite sober, passing along a street in front -of us. But we hid in a door till he had disappeared up an opening such -as there are here, steep little closes, or 'wynds', as they call them -in Scotland. My heart beat so loud all the time sometimes I thought I -should faint. I was filled with anxiety about Lucy, not only for her -health, lest she should suffer from the exposure, but for her -reputation in case the story should get wind. When we got in, and had -washed our feet, and had said a prayer of thankfulness together, I -tucked her into bed. Before falling asleep she asked, even implored, -me not to say a word to any one, even her mother, about her -sleepwalking adventure. -I hesitated at first, to promise, but on thinking of the state of her -mother's health, and how the knowledge of such a thing would fret her, -and think too, of how such a story might become distorted, nay, -infallibly would, in case it should leak out, I thought it wiser to do -so. I hope I did right. I have locked the door, and the key is tied -to my wrist, so perhaps I shall not be again disturbed. Lucy is -sleeping soundly. The reflex of the dawn is high and far over the -sea . . . -Same day, noon.All goes well. Lucy slept till I woke her and seemed -not to have even changed her side. The adventure of the night does not -seem to have harmed her, on the contrary, it has benefited her, for she -looks better this morning than she has done for weeks. I was sorry to -notice that my clumsiness with the safetypin hurt her. Indeed, it -might have been serious, for the skin of her throat was pierced. I -must have pinched up a piece of loose skin and have transfixed it, for -there are two little red points like pinpricks, and on the band of her -nightdress was a drop of blood. When I apologised and was concerned -about it, she laughed and petted me, and said she did not even feel it. -Fortunately it cannot leave a scar, as it is so tiny. -Same day, night.We passed a happy day. The air was clear, and the -sun bright, and there was a cool breeze. We took our lunch to Mulgrave -Woods, Mrs. Westenra driving by the road and Lucy and I walking by the -cliffpath and joining her at the gate. I felt a little sad myself, -for I could not but feel how absolutely happy it would have been had -Jonathan been with me. But there I must only be patient. In the -evening we strolled in the Casino Terrace, and heard some good music by -Spohr and Mackenzie, and went to bed early. Lucy seems more restful -than she has been for some time, and fell asleep at once. I shall lock -the door and secure the key the same as before, though I do not expect -any trouble tonight. - August.My expectations were wrong, for twice during the night I -was wakened by Lucy trying to get out. She seemed, even in her sleep, -to be a little impatient at finding the door shut, and went back to bed -under a sort of protest. I woke with the dawn, and heard the birds -chirping outside of the window. Lucy woke, too, and I was glad to see, -was even better than on the previous morning. All her old gaiety of -manner seemed to have come back, and she came and snuggled in beside me -and told me all about Arthur. I told her how anxious I was about -Jonathan, and then she tried to comfort me. Well, she succeeded -somewhat, for, though sympathy can't alter facts, it can make them more -bearable. - August.Another quiet day, and to bed with the key on my wrist as -before. Again I awoke in the night, and found Lucy sitting up in bed, -still asleep, pointing to the window. I got up quietly, and pulling -aside the blind, looked out. It was brilliant moonlight, and the soft -effect of the light over the sea and sky, merged together in one great -silent mystery, was beautiful beyond words. Between me and the -moonlight flitted a great bat, coming and going in great whirling -circles. Once or twice it came quite close, but was, I suppose, -frightened at seeing me, and flitted away across the harbour towards -the abbey. When I came back from the window Lucy had lain down again, -and was sleeping peacefully. She did not stir again all night. - August.On the East Cliff, reading and writing all day. Lucy seems -to have become as much in love with the spot as I am, and it is hard to -get her away from it when it is time to come home for lunch or tea or -dinner. This afternoon she made a funny remark. We were coming home -for dinner, and had come to the top of the steps up from the West Pier -and stopped to look at the view, as we generally do. The setting sun, -low down in the sky, was just dropping behind Kettleness. The red -light was thrown over on the East Cliff and the old abbey, and seemed -to bathe everything in a beautiful rosy glow. We were silent for a -while, and suddenly Lucy murmured as if to herself . . . -"His red eyes again They are just the same." It was such an odd -expression, coming apropos of nothing, that it quite startled me. I -slewed round a little, so as to see Lucy well without seeming to stare -at her, and saw that she was in a half dreamy state, with an odd look -on her face that I could not quite make out, so I said nothing, but -followed her eyes. She appeared to be looking over at our own seat, -whereon was a dark figure seated alone. I was quite a little startled -myself, for it seemed for an instant as if the stranger had great eyes -like burning flames, but a second look dispelled the illusion. The red -sunlight was shining on the windows of St. Mary's Church behind our -seat, and as the sun dipped there was just sufficient change in the -refraction and reflection to make it appear as if the light moved. I -called Lucy's attention to the peculiar effect, and she became herself -with a start, but she looked sad all the same. It may have been that -she was thinking of that terrible night up there. We never refer to -it, so I said nothing, and we went home to dinner. Lucy had a headache -and went early to bed. I saw her asleep, and went out for a little -stroll myself. -I walked along the cliffs to the westward, and was full of sweet -sadness, for I was thinking of Jonathan. When coming home, it was then -bright moonlight, so bright that, though the front of our part of the -Crescent was in shadow, everything could be well seen, I threw a glance -up at our window, and saw Lucy's head leaning out. I opened my -handkerchief and waved it. She did not notice or make any movement -whatever. Just then, the moonlight crept round an angle of the -building, and the light fell on the window. There distinctly was Lucy -with her head lying up against the side of the window sill and her eyes -shut. She was fast asleep, and by her, seated on the window sill, was -something that looked like a goodsized bird. I was afraid she might -get a chill, so I ran upstairs, but as I came into the room she was -moving back to her bed, fast asleep, and breathing heavily. She was -holding her hand to her throat, as though to protect if from the cold. -I did not wake her, but tucked her up warmly. I have taken care that -the door is locked and the window securely fastened. -She looks so sweet as she sleeps, but she is paler than is her wont, -and there is a drawn, haggard look under her eyes which I do not like. -I fear she is fretting about something. I wish I could find out what it -is. - August.Rose later than usual. Lucy was languid and tired, and -slept on after we had been called. We had a happy surprise at -breakfast. Arthur's father is better, and wants the marriage to come -off soon. Lucy is full of quiet joy, and her mother is glad and sorry -at once. Later on in the day she told me the cause. She is grieved to -lose Lucy as her very own, but she is rejoiced that she is soon to have -some one to protect her. Poor dear, sweet lady She confided to me -that she has got her death warrant. She has not told Lucy, and made me -promise secrecy. Her doctor told her that within a few months, at -most, she must die, for her heart is weakening. At any time, even now, -a sudden shock would be almost sure to kill her. Ah, we were wise to -keep from her the affair of the dreadful night of Lucy's sleepwalking. - August.No diary for two whole days. I have not had the heart to -write. Some sort of shadowy pall seems to be coming over our -happiness. No news from Jonathan, and Lucy seems to be growing weaker, -whilst her mother's hours are numbering to a close. I do not -understand Lucy's fading away as she is doing. She eats well and -sleeps well, and enjoys the fresh air, but all the time the roses in -her cheeks are fading, and she gets weaker and more languid day by day. -At night I hear her gasping as if for air. -I keep the key of our door always fastened to my wrist at night, but -she gets up and walks about the room, and sits at the open window. -Last night I found her leaning out when I woke up, and when I tried to -wake her I could not. -She was in a faint. When I managed to restore her, she was weak as -water, and cried silently between long, painful struggles for breath. -When I asked her how she came to be at the window she shook her head -and turned away. -I trust her feeling ill may not be from that unlucky prick of the -safetypin. I looked at her throat just now as she lay asleep, and the -tiny wounds seem not to have healed. They are still open, and, if -anything, larger than before, and the edges of them are faintly white. -They are like little white dots with red centres. Unless they heal -within a day or two, I shall insist on the doctor seeing about them. -LETTER, SAMUEL F. BILLINGTON SON, SOLICITORS WHITBY, -TO MESSRS. CARTER, PATERSON CO., LONDON. - August -"Dear Sirs,Herewith please receive invoice of goods sent by Great -Northern Railway. Same are to be delivered at Carfax, near -Purfleet, immediately on receipt at goods station King's Cross. The -house is at present empty, but enclosed please find keys, all of -which are labelled. -"You will please deposit the boxes, fifty in number, which form the -consignment, in the partially ruined building forming part of the -house and marked 'A' on rough diagrams enclosed. Your agent will -easily recognize the locality, as it is the ancient chapel of the -mansion. The goods leave by the train at tonight, and will be -due at King's Cross at tomorrow afternoon. As our client -wishes the delivery made as soon as possible, we shall be obliged by -your having teams ready at King's Cross at the time named and -forthwith conveying the goods to destination. In order to obviate -any delays possible through any routine requirements as to payment -in your departments, we enclose cheque herewith for ten pounds, -receipt of which please acknowledge. Should the charge be less than -this amount, you can return balance, if greater, we shall at once -send cheque for difference on hearing from you. You are to leave -the keys on coming away in the main hall of the house, where the -proprietor may get them on his entering the house by means of his -duplicate key. -"Pray do not take us as exceeding the bounds of business courtesy -in pressing you in all ways to use the utmost expedition. -"We are, dear Sirs, -Faithfully yours, -SAMUEL F. BILLINGTON SON" -LETTER, MESSRS. CARTER, PATERSON CO., LONDON, -TO MESSRS. BILLINGTON SON, WHITBY. - August. -"Dear Sirs,We beg to acknowledge pounds received and to return -cheque of pound, s, d, amount of overplus, as shown in -receipted account herewith. Goods are delivered in exact accordance -with instructions, and keys left in parcel in main hall, as -directed. -"We are, dear Sirs, -Yours respectfully, -Pro CARTER, PATERSON CO." -MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL. - August.I am happy today, and write sitting on the seat in the -churchyard. Lucy is ever so much better. Last night she slept well -all night, and did not disturb me once. -The roses seem coming back already to her cheeks, though she is still -sadly pale and wanlooking. If she were in any way anemic I could -understand it, but she is not. She is in gay spirits and full of life -and cheerfulness. All the morbid reticence seems to have passed from -her, and she has just reminded me, as if I needed any reminding, of -that night, and that it was here, on this very seat, I found her -asleep. -As she told me she tapped playfully with the heel of her boot on the -stone slab and said, -"My poor little feet didn't make much noise then I daresay poor old -Mr. Swales would have told me that it was because I didn't want to wake -up Geordie." -As she was in such a communicative humour, I asked her if she had -dreamed at all that night. -Before she answered, that sweet, puckered look came into her forehead, -which Arthur, I call him Arthur from her habit, says he loves, and -indeed, I don't wonder that he does. Then she went on in a -halfdreaming kind of way, as if trying to recall it to herself. -"I didn't quite dream, but it all seemed to be real. I only wanted to -be here in this spot. I don't know why, for I was afraid of something, -I don't know what. I remember, though I suppose I was asleep, passing -through the streets and over the bridge. A fish leaped as I went by, -and I leaned over to look at it, and I heard a lot of dogs howling. The -whole town seemed as if it must be full of dogs all howling at once, as -I went up the steps. Then I had a vague memory of something long and -dark with red eyes, just as we saw in the sunset, and something very -sweet and very bitter all around me at once. And then I seemed sinking -into deep green water, and there was a singing in my ears, as I have -heard there is to drowning men, and then everything seemed passing away -from me. My soul seemed to go out from my body and float about the -air. I seem to remember that once the West Lighthouse was right under -me, and then there was a sort of agonizing feeling, as if I were in an -earthquake, and I came back and found you shaking my body. I saw you -do it before I felt you." -Then she began to laugh. It seemed a little uncanny to me, and I -listened to her breathlessly. I did not quite like it, and thought it -better not to keep her mind on the subject, so we drifted on to another -subject, and Lucy was like her old self again. When we got home the -fresh breeze had braced her up, and her pale cheeks were really more -rosy. Her mother rejoiced when she saw her, and we all spent a very -happy evening together. - August.Joy, joy, joy Although not all joy. At last, news of -Jonathan. The dear fellow has been ill, that is why he did not write. -I am not afraid to think it or to say it, now that I know. Mr. Hawkins -sent me on the letter, and wrote himself, oh so kindly. I am to leave -in the morning and go over to Jonathan, and to help to nurse him if -necessary, and to bring him home. Mr. Hawkins says it would not be a -bad thing if we were to be married out there. I have cried over the -good Sister's letter till I can feel it wet against my bosom, where it -lies. It is of Jonathan, and must be near my heart, for he is in my -heart. My journey is all mapped out, and my luggage ready. I am only -taking one change of dress. Lucy will bring my trunk to London and -keep it till I send for it, for it may be that . . . I must write no -more. I must keep it to say to Jonathan, my husband. The letter that -he has seen and touched must comfort me till we meet. -LETTER, SISTER AGATHA, HOSPITAL OF ST. JOSEPH AND -STE. MARY BUDAPESTH, TO MISS WILLHELMINA MURRAY - August, -"Dear Madam. -"I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker, who is himself not strong -enough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. -Joseph and Ste. Mary. He has been under our care for nearly six -weeks, suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey -his love, and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Peter -Hawkins, Exeter, to say, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorry -for his delay, and that all of his work is completed. He will -require some few weeks' rest in our sanatorium in the hills, but -will then return. He wishes me to say that he has not sufficient -money with him, and that he would like to pay for his staying here, -so that others who need shall not be wanting for help. -"Believe me, -"Yours, with sympathy -and all blessings. -Sister Agatha -"P.S.My patient being asleep, I open this to let you know -something more. He has told me all about you, and that you are -shortly to be his wife. All blessings to you both He has had some -fearful shock, so says our doctor, and in his delirium his ravings -have been dreadful, of wolves and poison and blood, of ghosts and -demons, and I fear to say of what. Be careful of him always that -there may be nothing to excite him of this kind for a long time to -come. The traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away. -We should have written long ago, but we knew nothing of his friends, -and there was nothing on him, nothing that anyone could understand. -He came in the train from Klausenburg, and the guard was told by the -station master there that he rushed into the station shouting for a -ticket for home. Seeing from his violent demeanour that he was -English, they gave him a ticket for the furthest station on the way -thither that the train reached. -"Be assured that he is well cared for. He has won all hearts by his -sweetness and gentleness. He is truly getting on well, and I have -no doubt will in a few weeks be all himself. But be careful of him -for safety's sake. There are, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. -Mary, many, many, happy years for you both." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - August.Strange and sudden change in Renfield last night. About -eight o'clock he began to get excited and sniff about as a dog does -when setting. The attendant was struck by his manner, and knowing my -interest in him, encouraged him to talk. He is usually respectful to -the attendant and at times servile, but tonight, the man tells me, he -was quite haughty. Would not condescend to talk with him at all. -All he would say was, "I don't want to talk to you. You don't count -now. The master is at hand." -The attendant thinks it is some sudden form of religious mania which -has seized him. If so, we must look out for squalls, for a strong man -with homicidal and religious mania at once might be dangerous. The -combination is a dreadful one. -At nine o'clock I visited him myself. His attitude to me was the same -as that to the attendant. In his sublime selffeeling the difference -between myself and the attendant seemed to him as nothing. It looks -like religious mania, and he will soon think that he himself is God. -These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for -an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away The real -God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall. But the God created from human -vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh, if men -only knew -For half an hour or more Renfield kept getting excited in greater and -greater degree. I did not pretend to be watching him, but I kept -strict observation all the same. All at once that shifty look came -into his eyes which we always see when a madman has seized an idea, and -with it the shifty movement of the head and back which asylum -attendants come to know so well. He became quite quiet, and went and -sat on the edge of his bed resignedly, and looked into space with -lackluster eyes. -I thought I would find out if his apathy were real or only assumed, and -tried to lead him to talk of his pets, a theme which had never failed -to excite his attention. -At first he made no reply, but at length said testily, "Bother them -all I don't care a pin about them." -"What?" I said. "You don't mean to tell me you don't care about -spiders?" Spiders at present are his hobby and the notebook is filling -up with columns of small figures. -To this he answered enigmatically, "The Bride maidens rejoice the eyes -that wait the coming of the bride. But when the bride draweth nigh, -then the maidens shine not to the eyes that are filled." -He would not explain himself, but remained obstinately seated on his -bed all the time I remained with him. -I am weary tonight and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, and -how different things might have been. If I don't sleep at once, -chloral, the modern Morpheus I must be careful not to let it grow -into a habit. No, I shall take none tonight I have thought of Lucy, -and I shall not dishonour her by mixing the two. If need be, tonight -shall be sleepless. -Later.Glad I made the resolution, gladder that I kept to it. I had -lain tossing about, and had heard the clock strike only twice, when the -night watchman came to me, sent up from the ward, to say that Renfield -had escaped. I threw on my clothes and ran down at once. My patient -is too dangerous a person to be roaming about. Those ideas of his -might work out dangerously with strangers. -The attendant was waiting for me. He said he had seen him not ten -minutes before, seemingly asleep in his bed, when he had looked through -the observation trap in the door. His attention was called by the -sound of the window being wrenched out. He ran back and saw his feet -disappear through the window, and had at once sent up for me. He was -only in his night gear, and cannot be far off. -The attendant thought it would be more useful to watch where he should -go than to follow him, as he might lose sight of him whilst getting out -of the building by the door. He is a bulky man, and couldn't get -through the window. -I am thin, so, with his aid, I got out, but feet foremost, and as we -were only a few feet above ground landed unhurt. -The attendant told me the patient had gone to the left, and had taken a -straight line, so I ran as quickly as I could. As I got through the -belt of trees I saw a white figure scale the high wall which separates -our grounds from those of the deserted house. -I ran back at once, told the watchman to get three or four men -immediately and follow me into the grounds of Carfax, in case our -friend might be dangerous. I got a ladder myself, and crossing the -wall, dropped down on the other side. I could see Renfield's figure -just disappearing behind the angle of the house, so I ran after him. On -the far side of the house I found him pressed close against the old -ironbound oak door of the chapel. -He was talking, apparently to some one, but I was afraid to go near -enough to hear what he was saying, lest I might frighten him, and he -should run off. -Chasing an errant swarm of bees is nothing to following a naked -lunatic, when the fit of escaping is upon him After a few minutes, -however, I could see that he did not take note of anything around him, -and so ventured to draw nearer to him, the more so as my men had now -crossed the wall and were closing him in. I heard him say . . . -"I am here to do your bidding, Master. I am your slave, and you will -reward me, for I shall be faithful. I have worshipped you long and afar -off. Now that you are near, I await your commands, and you will not -pass me by, will you, dear Master, in your distribution of good -things?" -He is a selfish old beggar anyhow. He thinks of the loaves and fishes -even when he believes his is in a real Presence. His manias make a -startling combination. When we closed in on him he fought like a -tiger. He is immensely strong, for he was more like a wild beast than -a man. -I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before, and I hope I -shall not again. It is a mercy that we have found out his strength and -his danger in good time. With strength and determination like his, he -might have done wild work before he was caged. -He is safe now, at any rate. Jack Sheppard himself couldn't get free -from the strait waistcoat that keeps him restrained, and he's chained -to the wall in the padded room. -His cries are at times awful, but the silences that follow are more -deadly still, for he means murder in every turn and movement. -Just now he spoke coherent words for the first time. "I shall be -patient, Master. It is coming, coming, coming" -So I took the hint, and came too. I was too excited to sleep, but this -diary has quieted me, and I feel I shall get some sleep tonight. -CHAPTER -LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA -BudaPesth, August. -"My dearest Lucy, -"I know you will be anxious to hear all that has happened -since we parted at the railway station at Whitby. -"Well, my dear, I got to Hull all right, and caught the boat to -Hamburg, and then the train on here. I feel that I can hardly -recall anything of the journey, except that I knew I was coming to -Jonathan, and that as I should have to do some nursing, I had better -get all the sleep I could. I found my dear one, oh, so thin and -pale and weaklooking. All the resolution has gone out of his dear -eyes, and that quiet dignity which I told you was in his face has -vanished. He is only a wreck of himself, and he does not remember -anything that has happened to him for a long time past. At least, -he wants me to believe so, and I shall never ask. -"He has had some terrible shock, and I fear it might tax his poor -brain if he were to try to recall it. Sister Agatha, who is a good -creature and a born nurse, tells me that he wanted her to tell me -what they were, but she would only cross herself, and say she would -never tell. That the ravings of the sick were the secrets of God, -and that if a nurse through her vocation should hear them, she -should respect her trust. -"She is a sweet, good soul, and the next day, when she saw I was -troubled, she opened up the subject my poor dear raved about, added, -'I can tell you this much, my dear. That it was not about anything -which he has done wrong himself, and you, as his wife to be, have no -cause to be concerned. He has not forgotten you or what he owes to -you. His fear was of great and terrible things, which no mortal can -treat of.' -"I do believe the dear soul thought I might be jealous lest my poor -dear should have fallen in love with any other girl. The idea of my -being jealous about Jonathan And yet, my dear, let me whisper, I -felt a thrill of joy through me when I knew that no other woman was -a cause for trouble. I am now sitting by his bedside, where I can -see his face while he sleeps. He is waking -"When he woke he asked me for his coat, as he wanted to get -something from the pocket. I asked Sister Agatha, and she brought -all his things. I saw amongst them was his notebook, and was -going to ask him to let me look at it, for I knew that I might find -some clue to his trouble, but I suppose he must have seen my wish in -my eyes, for he sent me over to the window, saying he wanted to be -quite alone for a moment. -"Then he called me back, and he said to me very solemnly, -'Wilhelmina', I knew then that he was in deadly earnest, for he has -never called me by that name since he asked me to marry him, 'You -know, dear, my ideas of the trust between husband and wife. There -should be no secret, no concealment. I have had a great shock, and -when I try to think of what it is I feel my head spin round, and I -do not know if it was real of the dreaming of a madman. You know I -had brain fever, and that is to be mad. The secret is here, and I -do not want to know it. I want to take up my life here, with our -marriage.' For, my dear, we had decided to be married as soon as -the formalities are complete. 'Are you willing, Wilhelmina, to -share my ignorance? Here is the book. Take it and keep it, read it -if you will, but never let me know unless, indeed, some solemn duty -should come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, -sane or mad, recorded here.' He fell back exhausted, and I put the -book under his pillow, and kissed him. I have asked Sister Agatha -to beg the Superior to let our wedding be this afternoon, and am -waiting her reply . . ." -"She has come and told me that the Chaplain of the English mission -church has been sent for. We are to be married in an hour, or as -soon after as Jonathan awakes." -"Lucy, the time has come and gone. I feel very solemn, but very, -very happy. Jonathan woke a little after the hour, and all was -ready, and he sat up in bed, propped up with pillows. He answered -his 'I will' firmly and strong. I could hardly speak. My heart was -so full that even those words seemed to choke me. -"The dear sisters were so kind. Please, God, I shall never, never -forget them, nor the grave and sweet responsibilities I have taken -upon me. I must tell you of my wedding present. When the chaplain -and the sisters had left me alone with my husbandoh, Lucy, it is -the first time I have written the words 'my husband'left me alone -with my husband, I took the book from under his pillow, and wrapped -it up in white paper, and tied it with a little bit of pale blue -ribbon which was round my neck, and sealed it over the knot with -sealing wax, and for my seal I used my wedding ring. Then I kissed -it and showed it to my husband, and told him that I would keep it -so, and then it would be an outward and visible sign for us all our -lives that we trusted each other, that I would never open it unless -it were for his own dear sake or for the sake of some stern duty. -Then he took my hand in his, and oh, Lucy, it was the first time he -took his wife's hand, and said that it was the dearest thing in all -the wide world, and that he would go through all the past again to -win it, if need be. The poor dear meant to have said a part of the -past, but he cannot think of time yet, and I shall not wonder if at -first he mixes up not only the month, but the year. -"Well, my dear, what could I say? I could only tell him that I was -the happiest woman in all the wide world, and that I had nothing to -give him except myself, my life, and my trust, and that with these -went my love and duty for all the days of my life. And, my dear, -when he kissed me, and drew me to him with his poor weak hands, it -was like a solemn pledge between us. -"Lucy dear, do you know why I tell you all this? It is not only -because it is all sweet to me, but because you have been, and are, -very dear to me. It was my privilege to be your friend and guide -when you came from the schoolroom to prepare for the world of life. -I want you to see now, and with the eyes of a very happy wife, -whither duty has led me, so that in your own married life you too -may be all happy, as I am. My dear, please Almighty God, your life -may be all it promises, a long day of sunshine, with no harsh wind, -no forgetting duty, no distrust. I must not wish you no pain, for -that can never be, but I do hope you will be always as happy as I am -now. Goodbye, my dear. I shall post this at once, and perhaps, -write you very soon again. I must stop, for Jonathan is waking. I -must attend my husband -"Your everloving -Mina Harker." -LETTER, LUCY WESTENRA TO MINA HARKER. -Whitby, August. -"My dearest Mina, -"Oceans of love and millions of kisses, and may you soon be in your -own home with your husband. I wish you were coming home soon enough -to stay with us here. The strong air would soon restore Jonathan. -It has quite restored me. I have an appetite like a cormorant, am -full of life, and sleep well. You will be glad to know that I have -quite given up walking in my sleep. I think I have not stirred out -of my bed for a week, that is when I once got into it at night. -Arthur says I am getting fat. By the way, I forgot to tell you that -Arthur is here. We have such walks and drives, and rides, and -rowing, and tennis, and fishing together, and I love him more than -ever. He tells me that he loves me more, but I doubt that, for at -first he told me that he couldn't love me more than he did then. -But this is nonsense. There he is, calling to me. So no more just -at present from your loving, -"Lucy. -"P.S.Mother sends her love. She seems better, poor dear. -"P.P.S.We are to be married on September." -DR. SEWARDS DIARY - August.The case of Renfield grows even more interesting. He has -now so far quieted that there are spells of cessation from his -passion. For the first week after his attack he was perpetually -violent. Then one night, just as the moon rose, he grew quiet, and -kept murmuring to himself. "Now I can wait. Now I can wait." -The attendant came to tell me, so I ran down at once to have a look at -him. He was still in the strait waistcoat and in the padded room, but -the suffused look had gone from his face, and his eyes had something -of their old pleading. I might almost say, cringing, softness. I was -satisfied with his present condition, and directed him to be relieved. -The attendants hesitated, but finally carried out my wishes without -protest. -It was a strange thing that the patient had humour enough to see their -distrust, for, coming close to me, he said in a whisper, all the while -looking furtively at them, "They think I could hurt you Fancy me -hurting you The fools" -It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings to find myself disassociated -even in the mind of this poor madman from the others, but all the same -I do not follow his thought. Am I to take it that I have anything in -common with him, so that we are, as it were, to stand together. Or -has he to gain from me some good so stupendous that my well being is -needful to Him? I must find out later on. Tonight he will not speak. -Even the offer of a kitten or even a fullgrown cat will not tempt -him. -He will only say, "I don't take any stock in cats. I have more to -think of now, and I can wait. I can wait." -After a while I left him. The attendant tells me that he was quiet -until just before dawn, and that then he began to get uneasy, and at -length violent, until at last he fell into a paroxysm which exhausted -him so that he swooned into a sort of coma. -. . . Three nights has the same thing happened, violent all day then -quiet from moonrise to sunrise. I wish I could get some clue to the -cause. It would almost seem as if there was some influence which came -and went. Happy thought We shall tonight play sane wits against mad -ones. He escaped before without our help. Tonight he shall escape -with it. We shall give him a chance, and have the men ready to follow -in case they are required. - August."The expected always happens." How well Disraeli knew -life. Our bird when he found the cage open would not fly, so all our -subtle arrangements were for nought. At any rate, we have proved one -thing, that the spells of quietness last a reasonable time. We shall -in future be able to ease his bonds for a few hours each day. I have -given orders to the night attendant merely to shut him in the padded -room, when once he is quiet, until the hour before sunrise. The poor -soul's body will enjoy the relief even if his mind cannot appreciate -it. Hark The unexpected again I am called. The patient has once -more escaped. -Later.Another night adventure. Renfield artfully waited until the -attendant was entering the room to inspect. Then he dashed out past -him and flew down the passage. I sent word for the attendants to -follow. Again he went into the grounds of the deserted house, and we -found him in the same place, pressed against the old chapel door. -When he saw me he became furious, and had not the attendants seized -him in time, he would have tried to kill me. As we were holding him a -strange thing happened. He suddenly redoubled his efforts, and then -as suddenly grew calm. I looked round instinctively, but could see -nothing. Then I caught the patient's eye and followed it, but could -trace nothing as it looked into the moonlight sky, except a big bat, -which was flapping its silent and ghostly way to the west. Bats -usually wheel about, but this one seemed to go straight on, as if it -knew where it was bound for or had some intention of its own. -The patient grew calmer every instant, and presently said, "You -needn't tie me. I shall go quietly" Without trouble, we came back -to the house. I feel there is something ominous in his calm, and -shall not forget this night. -LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY -Hillingham, August.I must imitate Mina, and keep writing things -down. Then we can have long talks when we do meet. I wonder when it -will be. I wish she were with me again, for I feel so unhappy. Last -night I seemed to be dreaming again just as I was at Whitby. Perhaps -it is the change of air, or getting home again. It is all dark and -horrid to me, for I can remember nothing. But I am full of vague -fear, and I feel so weak and worn out. When Arthur came to lunch he -looked quite grieved when he saw me, and I hadn't the spirit to try to -be cheerful. I wonder if I could sleep in mother's room tonight. I -shall make an excuse to try. - August.Another bad night. Mother did not seem to take to my -proposal. She seems not too well herself, and doubtless she fears to -worry me. I tried to keep awake, and succeeded for a while, but when -the clock struck twelve it waked me from a doze, so I must have been -falling asleep. There was a sort of scratching or flapping at the -window, but I did not mind it, and as I remember no more, I suppose I -must have fallen asleep. More bad dreams. I wish I could remember -them. This morning I am horribly weak. My face is ghastly pale, and -my throat pains me. It must be something wrong with my lungs, for I -don't seem to be getting air enough. I shall try to cheer up when -Arthur comes, or else I know he will be miserable to see me so. -LETTER, ARTHUR TO DR. SEWARD -"Albemarle Hotel, August -"My dear Jack, -"I want you to do me a favour. Lucy is ill, that is she has no -special disease, but she looks awful, and is getting worse every -day. I have asked her if there is any cause, I not dare to ask her -mother, for to disturb the poor lady's mind about her daughter in -her present state of health would be fatal. Mrs. Westenra has -confided to me that her doom is spoken, disease of the heart, though -poor Lucy does not know it yet. I am sure that there is something -preying on my dear girl's mind. I am almost distracted when I think -of her. To look at her gives me a pang. I told her I should ask -you to see her, and though she demurred at first, I know why, old -fellow, she finally consented. It will be a painful task for you, I -know, old friend, but it is for her sake, and I must not hesitate to -ask, or you to act. You are to come to lunch at Hillingham -tomorrow, two o'clock, so as not to arouse any suspicion in Mrs. -Westenra, and after lunch Lucy will take an opportunity of being -alone with you. I am filled with anxiety, and want to consult with -you alone as soon as I can after you have seen her. Do not fail -"Arthur." -TELEGRAM, ARTHUR HOLMWOOD TO SEWARD - September -"Am summoned to see my father, who is worse. Am writing. Write -me fully by tonight's post to Ring. Wire me if necessary." -LETTER FROM DR. SEWARD TO ARTHUR HOLMWOOD - September -"My dear old fellow, -"With regard to Miss Westenra's health I hasten to let you know at -once that in my opinion there is not any functional disturbance or -any malady that I know of. At the same time, I am not by any means -satisfied with her appearance. She is woefully different from what -she was when I saw her last. Of course you must bear in mind that I -did not have full opportunity of examination such as I should wish. -Our very friendship makes a little difficulty which not even medical -science or custom can bridge over. I had better tell you exactly -what happened, leaving you to draw, in a measure, your own -conclusions. I shall then say what I have done and propose doing. -"I found Miss Westenra in seemingly gay spirits. Her mother was -present, and in a few seconds I made up my mind that she was trying -all she knew to mislead her mother and prevent her from being -anxious. I have no doubt she guesses, if she does not know, what -need of caution there is. -"We lunched alone, and as we all exerted ourselves to be cheerful, -we got, as some kind of reward for our labours, some real -cheerfulness amongst us. Then Mrs. Westenra went to lie down, and -Lucy was left with me. We went into her boudoir, and till we got -there her gaiety remained, for the servants were coming and going. -"As soon as the door was closed, however, the mask fell from her -face, and she sank down into a chair with a great sigh, and hid her -eyes with her hand. When I saw that her high spirits had failed, I -at once took advantage of her reaction to make a diagnosis. -"She said to me very sweetly, 'I cannot tell you how I loathe -talking about myself.' I reminded her that a doctor's confidence -was sacred, but that you were grievously anxious about her. She -caught on to my meaning at once, and settled that matter in a word. -'Tell Arthur everything you choose. I do not care for myself, but -for him' So I am quite free. -"I could easily see that she was somewhat bloodless, but I could not -see the usual anemic signs, and by the chance, I was able to test -the actual quality of her blood, for in opening a window which was -stiff a cord gave way, and she cut her hand slightly with broken -glass. It was a slight matter in itself, but it gave me an evident -chance, and I secured a few drops of the blood and have analysed -them. -"The qualitative analysis give a quite normal condition, and shows, -I should infer, in itself a vigorous state of health. In other -physical matters I was quite satisfied that there is no need for -anxiety, but as there must be a cause somewhere, I have come to the -conclusion that it must be something mental. -"She complains of difficulty breathing satisfactorily at times, and -of heavy, lethargic sleep, with dreams that frighten her, but -regarding which she can remember nothing. She says that as a child, -she used to walk in her sleep, and that when in Whitby the habit -came back, and that once she walked out in the night and went to -East Cliff, where Miss Murray found her. But she assures me that of -late the habit has not returned. -"I am in doubt, and so have done the best thing I know of. I have -written to my old friend and master, Professor Van Helsing, of -Amsterdam, who knows as much about obscure diseases as any one in -the world. I have asked him to come over, and as you told me that -all things were to be at your charge, I have mentioned to him who -you are and your relations to Miss Westenra. This, my dear fellow, -is in obedience to your wishes, for I am only too proud and happy to -do anything I can for her. -"Van Helsing would, I know, do anything for me for a personal -reason, so no matter on what ground he comes, we must accept his -wishes. He is a seemingly arbitrary man, this is because he knows -what he is talking about better than any one else. He is a -philosopher and a metaphysician, and one of the most advanced -scientists of his day, and he has, I believe, an absolutely open -mind. This, with an iron nerve, a temper of the icebrook, and -indomitable resolution, selfcommand, and toleration exalted from -virtues to blessings, and the kindliest and truest heart that beats, -these form his equipment for the noble work that he is doing for -mankind, work both in theory and practice, for his views are as wide -as his allembracing sympathy. I tell you these facts that you may -know why I have such confidence in him. I have asked him to come at -once. I shall see Miss Westenra tomorrow again. She is to meet me -at the Stores, so that I may not alarm her mother by too early a -repetition of my call. -"Yours always." -John Seward -LETTER, ABRAHAM VAN HELSING, MD, DPh, D. Lit, ETC, ETC, TO DR. SEWARD - September. -"My good Friend, -"When I received your letter I am already coming to you. By good -fortune I can leave just at once, without wrong to any of those who -have trusted me. Were fortune other, then it were bad for those who -have trusted, for I come to my friend when he call me to aid those -he holds dear. Tell your friend that when that time you suck from -my wound so swiftly the poison of the gangrene from that knife that -our other friend, too nervous, let slip, you did more for him when -he wants my aids and you call for them than all his great fortune -could do. But it is pleasure added to do for him, your friend, it -is to you that I come. Have near at hand, and please it so arrange -that we may see the young lady not too late on tomorrow, for it is -likely that I may have to return here that night. But if need be I -shall come again in three days, and stay longer if it must. Till -then goodbye, my friend John. -"Van Helsing." -LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHUR HOLMWOOD - September -"My dear Art, -"Van Helsing has come and gone. He came on with me to Hillingham, -and found that, by Lucy's discretion, her mother was lunching out, -so that we were alone with her. -"Van Helsing made a very careful examination of the patient. He is -to report to me, and I shall advise you, for of course I was not -present all the time. He is, I fear, much concerned, but says he -must think. When I told him of our friendship and how you trust to -me in the matter, he said, 'You must tell him all you think. Tell -him what I think, if you can guess it, if you will. Nay, I am -not jesting. This is no jest, but life and death, perhaps more.' I -asked what he meant by that, for he was very serious. This was when -we had come back to town, and he was having a cup of tea before -starting on his return to Amsterdam. He would not give me any -further clue. You must not be angry with me, Art, because his very -reticence means that all his brains are working for her good. He -will speak plainly enough when the time comes, be sure. So I told -him I would simply write an account of our visit, just as if I were -doing a descriptive special article for THE DAILY TELEGRAPH. He -seemed not to notice, but remarked that the smuts of London were not -quite so bad as they used to be when he was a student here. I am to -get his report tomorrow if he can possibly make it. In any case I -am to have a letter. -"Well, as to the visit, Lucy was more cheerful than on the day I -first saw her, and certainly looked better. She had lost something -of the ghastly look that so upset you, and her breathing was normal. -She was very sweet to the Professor as she always is, and tried to -make him feel at ease, though I could see the poor girl was making a -hard struggle for it. -"I believe Van Helsing saw it, too, for I saw the quick look -under his bushy brows that I knew of old. Then he began to -chat of all things except ourselves and diseases and with -such an infinite geniality that I could see poor Lucy's -pretense of animation merge into reality. Then, without -any seeming change, he brought the conversation gently round -to his visit, and suavely said, -"'My dear young miss, I have the so great pleasure because you are -so much beloved. That is much, my dear, even were there that which -I do not see. They told me you were down in the spirit, and that -you were of a ghastly pale. To them I say "Pouf"' And he snapped -his fingers at me and went on. 'But you and I shall show them how -wrong they are. How can he,' and he pointed at me with the same -look and gesture as that with which he pointed me out in his class, -on, or rather after, a particular occasion which he never fails to -remind me of, 'know anything of a young ladies? He has his madmen -to play with, and to bring them back to happiness, and to those that -love them. It is much to do, and, oh, but there are rewards in that -we can bestow such happiness. But the young ladies He has no wife -nor daughter, and the young do not tell themselves to the young, but -to the old, like me, who have known so many sorrows and the causes -of them. So, my dear, we will send him away to smoke the cigarette -in the garden, whiles you and I have little talk all to ourselves.' -I took the hint, and strolled about, and presently the professor -came to the window and called me in. He looked grave, but said, 'I -have made careful examination, but there is no functional cause. -With you I agree that there has been much blood lost, it has been -but is not. But the conditions of her are in no way anemic. I have -asked her to send me her maid, that I may ask just one or two -questions, that so I may not chance to miss nothing. I know well -what she will say. And yet there is cause. There is always cause -for everything. I must go back home and think. You must send me -the telegram every day, and if there be cause I shall come again. -The disease, for not to be well is a disease, interest me, and the -sweet, young dear, she interest me too. She charm me, and for her, -if not for you or disease, I come.' -"As I tell you, he would not say a word more, even when we were -alone. And so now, Art, you know all I know. I shall keep stern -watch. I trust your poor father is rallying. It must be a terrible -thing to you, my dear old fellow, to be placed in such a position -between two people who are both so dear to you. I know your idea of -duty to your father, and you are right to stick to it. But if need -be, I shall send you word to come at once to Lucy, so do not be -overanxious unless you hear from me." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Zoophagous patient still keeps up our interest in him. -He had only one outburst and that was yesterday at an unusual time. -Just before the stroke of noon he began to grow restless. The -attendant knew the symptoms, and at once summoned aid. Fortunately -the men came at a run, and were just in time, for at the stroke of -noon he became so violent that it took all their strength to hold him. -In about five minutes, however, he began to get more quiet, and -finally sank into a sort of melancholy, in which state he has remained -up to now. The attendant tells me that his screams whilst in the -paroxysm were really appalling. I found my hands full when I got in, -attending to some of the other patients who were frightened by him. -Indeed, I can quite understand the effect, for the sounds disturbed -even me, though I was some distance away. It is now after the dinner -hour of the asylum, and as yet my patient sits in a corner brooding, -with a dull, sullen, woebegone look in his face, which seems rather -to indicate than to show something directly. I cannot quite -understand it. -Later.Another change in my patient. At five o'clock I looked in on -him, and found him seemingly as happy and contented as he used to be. -He was catching flies and eating them, and was keeping note of his -capture by making nailmarks on the edge of the door between the ridges -of padding. When he saw me, he came over and apologized for his bad -conduct, and asked me in a very humble, cringing way to be led back to -his own room, and to have his notebook again. I thought it well to -humour him, so he is back in his room with the window open. He has -the sugar of his tea spread out on the window sill, and is reaping -quite a harvest of flies. He is not now eating them, but putting them -into a box, as of old, and is already examining the corners of his -room to find a spider. I tried to get him to talk about the past few -days, for any clue to his thoughts would be of immense help to me, but -he would not rise. For a moment or two he looked very sad, and said -in a sort of far away voice, as though saying it rather to himself -than to me. -"All over All over He has deserted me. No hope for me now unless -I do it myself" Then suddenly turning to me in a resolute way, he -said, "Doctor, won't you be very good to me and let me have a little -more sugar? I think it would be very good for me." -"And the flies?" I said. -"Yes The flies like it, too, and I like the flies, therefore I like -it." And there are people who know so little as to think that madmen do -not argue. I procured him a double supply, and left him as happy a -man as, I suppose, any in the world. I wish I could fathom his mind. -Midnight.Another change in him. I had been to see Miss Westenra, -whom I found much better, and had just returned, and was standing at -our own gate looking at the sunset, when once more I heard him -yelling. As his room is on this side of the house, I could hear it -better than in the morning. It was a shock to me to turn from the -wonderful smoky beauty of a sunset over London, with its lurid lights -and inky shadows and all the marvellous tints that come on foul clouds -even as on foul water, and to realize all the grim sternness of my own -cold stone building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own -desolate heart to endure it all. I reached him just as the sun was -going down, and from his window saw the red disc sink. As it sank he -became less and less frenzied, and just as it dipped he slid from the -hands that held him, an inert mass, on the floor. It is wonderful, -however, what intellectual recuperative power lunatics have, for -within a few minutes he stood up quite calmly and looked around him. I -signalled to the attendants not to hold him, for I was anxious to see -what he would do. He went straight over to the window and brushed out -the crumbs of sugar. Then he took his fly box, and emptied it -outside, and threw away the box. Then he shut the window, and -crossing over, sat down on his bed. All this surprised me, so I asked -him, "Are you going to keep flies any more?" -"No," said he. "I am sick of all that rubbish" He certainly is a -wonderfully interesting study. I wish I could get some glimpse of his -mind or of the cause of his sudden passion. Stop. There may be a -clue after all, if we can find why today his paroxysms came on at high -noon and at sunset. Can it be that there is a malign influence of the -sun at periods which affects certain natures, as at times the moon -does others? We shall see. -TELEGRAM. SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM -" September.Patient still better today." -TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM -" September.Patient greatly improved. Good appetite, sleeps -naturally, good spirits, colour coming back." -TELEGRAM, SEWARD, LONDON, TO VAN HELSING, AMSTERDAM -" September.Terrible change for the worse. Come at once. -Do not lose an hour. I hold over telegram to Holmwood till -have seen you." -CHAPTER -LETTER, DR. SEWARD TO HON. ARTHUR HOLMWOOD - September -"My dear Art, -"My news today is not so good. Lucy this morning had gone back a -bit. There is, however, one good thing which has arisen from it. -Mrs. Westenra was naturally anxious concerning Lucy, and has -consulted me professionally about her. I took advantage of the -opportunity, and told her that my old master, Van Helsing, the great -specialist, was coming to stay with me, and that I would put her in -his charge conjointly with myself. So now we can come and go -without alarming her unduly, for a shock to her would mean sudden -death, and this, in Lucy's weak condition, might be disastrous to -her. We are hedged in with difficulties, all of us, my poor fellow, -but, please God, we shall come through them all right. If any need -I shall write, so that, if you do not hear from me, take it for -granted that I am simply waiting for news, In haste, -"Yours ever," -John Seward -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.The first thing Van Helsing said to me when we met at -Liverpool Street was, "Have you said anything to our young friend, to -lover of her?" -"No," I said. "I waited till I had seen you, as I said in my -telegram. I wrote him a letter simply telling him that you were -coming, as Miss Westenra was not so well, and that I should let him -know if need be." -"Right, my friend," he said. "Quite right Better he not know as -yet. Perhaps he will never know. I pray so, but if it be needed, -then he shall know all. And, my good friend John, let me caution you. -You deal with the madmen. All men are mad in some way or the other, -and inasmuch as you deal discreetly with your madmen, so deal with -God's madmen too, the rest of the world. You tell not your madmen -what you do nor why you do it. You tell them not what you think. So -you shall keep knowledge in its place, where it may rest, where it may -gather its kind around it and breed. You and I shall keep as yet what -we know here, and here." He touched me on the heart and on the -forehead, and then touched himself the same way. "I have for myself -thoughts at the present. Later I shall unfold to you." -"Why not now?" I asked. "It may do some good. We may arrive at some -decision." He looked at me and said, "My friend John, when the corn is -grown, even before it has ripened, while the milk of its mother earth -is in him, and the sunshine has not yet begun to paint him with his -gold, the husbandman he pull the ear and rub him between his rough -hands, and blow away the green chaff, and say to you, 'Look He's -good corn, he will make a good crop when the time comes.'" -I did not see the application and told him so. For reply he reached -over and took my ear in his hand and pulled it playfully, as he used -long ago to do at lectures, and said, "The good husbandman tell you so -then because he knows, but not till then. But you do not find the -good husbandman dig up his planted corn to see if he grow. That is -for the children who play at husbandry, and not for those who take it -as of the work of their life. See you now, friend John? I have sown -my corn, and Nature has her work to do in making it sprout, if he -sprout at all, there's some promise, and I wait till the ear begins to -swell." He broke off, for he evidently saw that I understood. Then he -went on gravely, "You were always a careful student, and your case -book was ever more full than the rest. And I trust that good habit -have not fail. Remember, my friend, that knowledge is stronger than -memory, and we should not trust the weaker. Even if you have not kept -the good practice, let me tell you that this case of our dear miss is -one that may be, mind, I say may be, of such interest to us and others -that all the rest may not make him kick the beam, as your people say. -Take then good note of it. Nothing is too small. I counsel you, put -down in record even your doubts and surmises. Hereafter it may be of -interest to you to see how true you guess. We learn from failure, not -from success" -When I described Lucy's symptoms, the same as before, but infinitely -more marked, he looked very grave, but said nothing. He took with him -a bag in which were many instruments and drugs, "the ghastly -paraphernalia of our beneficial trade," as he once called, in one of -his lectures, the equipment of a professor of the healing craft. -When we were shown in, Mrs. Westenra met us. She was alarmed, but not -nearly so much as I expected to find her. Nature in one of her -beneficient moods has ordained that even death has some antidote to -its own terrors. Here, in a case where any shock may prove fatal, -matters are so ordered that, from some cause or other, the things not -personal, even the terrible change in her daughter to whom she is so -attached, do not seem to reach her. It is something like the way dame -Nature gathers round a foreign body an envelope of some insensitive -tissue which can protect from evil that which it would otherwise harm -by contact. If this be an ordered selfishness, then we should pause -before we condemn any one for the vice of egoism, for there may be -deeper root for its causes than we have knowledge of. -I used my knowledge of this phase of spiritual pathology, and set down -a rule that she should not be present with Lucy, or think of her -illness more than was absolutely required. She assented readily, so -readily that I saw again the hand of Nature fighting for life. Van -Helsing and I were shown up to Lucy's room. If I was shocked when I -saw her yesterday, I was horrified when I saw her today. -She was ghastly, chalkily pale. The red seemed to have gone even from -her lips and gums, and the bones of her face stood out prominently. -Her breathing was painful to see or hear. Van Helsing's face grew set -as marble, and his eyebrows converged till they almost touched over his -nose. Lucy lay motionless, and did not seem to have strength to -speak, so for a while we were all silent. Then Van Helsing beckoned -to me, and we went gently out of the room. The instant we had closed -the door he stepped quickly along the passage to the next door, which -was open. Then he pulled me quickly in with him and closed the door. -"My god" he said. "This is dreadful. There is not time to be lost. -She will die for sheer want of blood to keep the heart's action as it -should be. There must be a transfusion of blood at once. Is it you -or me?" -"I am younger and stronger, Professor. It must be me." -"Then get ready at once. I will bring up my bag. I am prepared." -I went downstairs with him, and as we were going there was a knock at -the hall door. When we reached the hall, the maid had just opened the -door, and Arthur was stepping quickly in. He rushed up to me, saying -in an eager whisper, -"Jack, I was so anxious. I read between the lines of your letter, and -have been in an agony. The dad was better, so I ran down here to see -for myself. Is not that gentleman Dr. Van Helsing? I am so thankful -to you, sir, for coming." -When first the Professor's eye had lit upon him, he had been angry at -his interruption at such a time, but now, as he took in his stalwart -proportions and recognized the strong young manhood which seemed to -emanate from him, his eyes gleamed. Without a pause he said to him as -he held out his hand, -"Sir, you have come in time. You are the lover of our dear miss. She -is bad, very, very bad. Nay, my child, do not go like that." For he -suddenly grew pale and sat down in a chair almost fainting. "You are -to help her. You can do more than any that live, and your courage is -your best help." -"What can I do?" asked Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me, and I shall do it. -My life is hers, and I would give the last drop of blood in my body for -her." -The Professor has a strongly humorous side, and I could from old -knowledge detect a trace of its origin in his answer. -"My young sir, I do not ask so much as that, not the last" -"What shall I do?" There was fire in his eyes, and his open nostrils -quivered with intent. Van Helsing slapped him on the shoulder. -"Come" he said. "You are a man, and it is a man we want. You are -better than me, better than my friend John." Arthur looked bewildered, -and the Professor went on by explaining in a kindly way. -"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must -have or die. My friend John and I have consulted, and we are about to -perform what we call transfusion of blood, to transfer from full veins -of one to the empty veins which pine for him. John was to give his -blood, as he is the more young and strong than me."Here Arthur took -my hand and wrung it hard in silence."But now you are here, you are -more good than us, old or young, who toil much in the world of -thought. Our nerves are not so calm and our blood so bright than -yours" -Arthur turned to him and said, "If you only knew how gladly I would -die for her you would understand . . ." He stopped with a sort of -choke in his voice. -"Good boy" said Van Helsing. "In the notsofaroff you will be -happy that you have done all for her you love. Come now and be -silent. You shall kiss her once before it is done, but then you must -go, and you must leave at my sign. Say no word to Madame. You know -how it is with her. There must be no shock, any knowledge of this -would be one. Come" -We all went up to Lucy's room. Arthur by direction remained outside. -Lucy turned her head and looked at us, but said nothing. She was not -asleep, but she was simply too weak to make the effort. Her eyes -spoke to us, that was all. -Van Helsing took some things from his bag and laid them on a little -table out of sight. Then he mixed a narcotic, and coming over to the -bed, said cheerily, "Now, little miss, here is your medicine. Drink -it off, like a good child. See, I lift you so that to swallow is -easy. Yes." She had made the effort with success. -It astonished me how long the drug took to act. This, in fact, marked -the extent of her weakness. The time seemed endless until sleep began -to flicker in her eyelids. At last, however, the narcotic began to -manifest its potency, and she fell into a deep sleep. When the -Professor was satisfied, he called Arthur into the room, and bade him -strip off his coat. Then he added, "You may take that one little kiss -whiles I bring over the table. Friend John, help to me" So neither -of us looked whilst he bent over her. -Van Helsing, turning to me, said, "He is so young and strong, and of -blood so pure that we need not defibrinate it." -Then with swiftness, but with absolute method, Van Helsing performed -the operation. As the transfusion went on, something like life seemed -to come back to poor Lucy's cheeks, and through Arthur's growing -pallor the joy of his face seemed absolutely to shine. After a bit I -began to grow anxious, for the loss of blood was telling on Arthur, -strong man as he was. It gave me an idea of what a terrible strain -Lucy's system must have undergone that what weakened Arthur only -partially restored her. -But the Professor's face was set, and he stood watch in hand, and with -his eyes fixed now on the patient and now on Arthur. I could hear my -own heart beat. Presently, he said in a soft voice, "Do not stir an -instant. It is enough. You attend him. I will look to her." -When all was over, I could see how much Arthur was weakened. I -dressed the wound and took his arm to bring him away, when Van Helsing -spoke without turning round, the man seems to have eyes in the back of -his head, "The brave lover, I think, deserve another kiss, which he -shall have presently." And as he had now finished his operation, he -adjusted the pillow to the patient's head. As he did so the narrow -black velvet band which she seems always to wear round her throat, -buckled with an old diamond buckle which her lover had given her, was -dragged a little up, and showed a red mark on her throat. -Arthur did not notice it, but I could hear the deep hiss of indrawn -breath which is one of Van Helsing's ways of betraying emotion. He -said nothing at the moment, but turned to me, saying, "Now take down -our brave young lover, give him of the port wine, and let him lie down -a while. He must then go home and rest, sleep much and eat much, that -he may be recruited of what he has so given to his love. He must not -stay here. Hold a moment I may take it, sir, that you are anxious -of result. Then bring it with you, that in all ways the operation is -successful. You have saved her life this time, and you can go home -and rest easy in mind that all that can be is. I shall tell her all -when she is well. She shall love you none the less for what you have -done. Goodbye." -When Arthur had gone I went back to the room. Lucy was sleeping -gently, but her breathing was stronger. I could see the counterpane -move as her breast heaved. By the bedside sat Van Helsing, looking at -her intently. The velvet band again covered the red mark. I asked -the Professor in a whisper, "What do you make of that mark on her -throat?" -"What do you make of it?" -"I have not examined it yet," I answered, and then and there proceeded -to loose the band. Just over the external jugular vein there were two -punctures, not large, but not wholesome looking. There was no sign of -disease, but the edges were white and worn looking, as if by some -trituration. It at once occurred to me that that this wound, or -whatever it was, might be the means of that manifest loss of blood. -But I abandoned the idea as soon as it formed, for such a thing could -not be. The whole bed would have been drenched to a scarlet with the -blood which the girl must have lost to leave such a pallor as she had -before the transfusion. -"Well?" said Van Helsing. -"Well," said I. "I can make nothing of it." -The Professor stood up. "I must go back to Amsterdam tonight," he -said "There are books and things there which I want. You must remain -here all night, and you must not let your sight pass from her." -"Shall I have a nurse?" I asked. -"We are the best nurses, you and I. You keep watch all night. See -that she is well fed, and that nothing disturbs her. You must not -sleep all the night. Later on we can sleep, you and I. I shall be -back as soon as possible. And then we may begin." -"May begin?" I said. "What on earth do you mean?" -"We shall see" he answered, as he hurried out. He came back a moment -later and put his head inside the door and said with a warning finger -held up, "Remember, she is your charge. If you leave her, and harm -befall, you shall not sleep easy hereafter" -DR. SEWARD'S DIARYCONTINUED - September.I sat up all night with Lucy. The opiate worked itself -off towards dusk, and she waked naturally. She looked a different -being from what she had been before the operation. Her spirits even -were good, and she was full of a happy vivacity, but I could see -evidences of the absolute prostration which she had undergone. When I -told Mrs. Westenra that Dr. Van Helsing had directed that I should sit -up with her, she almost poohpoohed the idea, pointing out her -daughter's renewed strength and excellent spirits. I was firm, -however, and made preparations for my long vigil. When her maid had -prepared her for the night I came in, having in the meantime had -supper, and took a seat by the bedside. -She did not in any way make objection, but looked at me gratefully -whenever I caught her eye. After a long spell she seemed sinking off -to sleep, but with an effort seemed to pull herself together and shook -it off. It was apparent that she did not want to sleep, so I tackled -the subject at once. -"You do not want to sleep?" -"No. I am afraid." -"Afraid to go to sleep Why so? It is the boon we all crave for." -"Ah, not if you were like me, if sleep was to you a presage of -horror" -"A presage of horror What on earth do you mean?" -"I don't know. Oh, I don't know. And that is what is so terrible. -All this weakness comes to me in sleep, until I dread the very -thought." -"But, my dear girl, you may sleep tonight. I am here watching you, -and I can promise that nothing will happen." -"Ah, I can trust you" she said. -I seized the opportunity, and said, "I promise that if I see any -evidence of bad dreams I will wake you at once." -"You will? Oh, will you really? How good you are to me. Then I will -sleep" And almost at the word she gave a deep sigh of relief, and -sank back, asleep. -All night long I watched by her. She never stirred, but slept on and -on in a deep, tranquil, lifegiving, healthgiving sleep. Her lips -were slightly parted, and her breast rose and fell with the regularity -of a pendulum. There was a smile on her face, and it was evident that -no bad dreams had come to disturb her peace of mind. -In the early morning her maid came, and I left her in her care and took -myself back home, for I was anxious about many things. I sent a short -wire to Van Helsing and to Arthur, telling them of the excellent -result of the operation. My own work, with its manifold arrears, took -me all day to clear off. It was dark when I was able to inquire about -my zoophagous patient. The report was good. He had been quite quiet -for the past day and night. A telegram came from Van Helsing at -Amsterdam whilst I was at dinner, suggesting that I should be at -Hillingham tonight, as it might be well to be at hand, and stating -that he was leaving by the night mail and would join me early in the -morning. - September.I was pretty tired and worn out when I got to -Hillingham. For two nights I had hardly had a wink of sleep, and my -brain was beginning to feel that numbness which marks cerebral -exhaustion. Lucy was up and in cheerful spirits. When she shook -hands with me she looked sharply in my face and said, -"No sitting up tonight for you. You are worn out. I am quite well -again. Indeed, I am, and if there is to be any sitting up, it is I -who will sit up with you." -I would not argue the point, but went and had my supper. Lucy came -with me, and, enlivened by her charming presence, I made an excellent -meal, and had a couple of glasses of the more than excellent port. -Then Lucy took me upstairs, and showed me a room next her own, where a -cozy fire was burning. -"Now," she said. "You must stay here. I shall leave this door open -and my door too. You can lie on the sofa for I know that nothing -would induce any of you doctors to go to bed whilst there is a patient -above the horizon. If I want anything I shall call out, and you can -come to me at once." -I could not but acquiesce, for I was dog tired, and could not have sat -up had I tried. So, on her renewing her promise to call me if she -should want anything, I lay on the sofa, and forgot all about -everything. -LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY - September.I feel so happy tonight. I have been so miserably weak, -that to be able to think and move about is like feeling sunshine after -a long spell of east wind out of a steel sky. Somehow Arthur feels -very, very close to me. I seem to feel his presence warm about me. I -suppose it is that sickness and weakness are selfish things and turn -our inner eyes and sympathy on ourselves, whilst health and strength -give love rein, and in thought and feeling he can wander where he -wills. I know where my thoughts are. If only Arthur knew My dear, -my dear, your ears must tingle as you sleep, as mine do waking. Oh, -the blissful rest of last night How I slept, with that dear, good -Dr. Seward watching me. And tonight I shall not fear to sleep, since -he is close at hand and within call. Thank everybody for being so -good to me. Thank God Goodnight Arthur. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.I was conscious of the Professor's hand on my head, and -started awake all in a second. That is one of the things that we -learn in an asylum, at any rate. -"And how is our patient?" -"Well, when I left her, or rather when she left me," I answered. -"Come, let us see," he said. And together we went into the room. -The blind was down, and I went over to raise it gently, whilst Van -Helsing stepped, with his soft, catlike tread, over to the bed. -As I raised the blind, and the morning sunlight flooded the room, I -heard the Professor's low hiss of inspiration, and knowing its rarity, -a deadly fear shot through my heart. As I passed over he moved back, -and his exclamation of horror, "Gott in Himmel" needed no enforcement -from his agonized face. He raised his hand and pointed to the bed, -and his iron face was drawn and ashen white. I felt my knees begin to -tremble. -There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more horribly -white and wanlooking than ever. Even the lips were white, and the -gums seemed to have shrunken back from the teeth, as we sometimes see -in a corpse after a prolonged illness. -Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger, but the instinct of his -life and all the long years of habit stood to him, and he put it down -again softly. -"Quick" he said. "Bring the brandy." -I flew to the dining room, and returned with the decanter. He wetted -the poor white lips with it, and together we rubbed palm and wrist and -heart. He felt her heart, and after a few moments of agonizing -suspense said, -"It is not too late. It beats, though but feebly. All our work is -undone. We must begin again. There is no young Arthur here now. I -have to call on you yourself this time, friend John." As he spoke, he -was dipping into his bag, and producing the instruments of -transfusion. I had taken off my coat and rolled up my shirt sleeve. -There was no possibility of an opiate just at present, and no need of -one and so, without a moment's delay, we began the operation. -After a time, it did not seem a short time either, for the draining -away of one's blood, no matter how willingly it be given, is a -terrible feeling, Van Helsing held up a warning finger. "Do not -stir," he said. "But I fear that with growing strength she may wake, -and that would make danger, oh, so much danger. But I shall -precaution take. I shall give hypodermic injection of morphia." He -proceeded then, swiftly and deftly, to carry out his intent. -The effect on Lucy was not bad, for the faint seemed to merge subtly -into the narcotic sleep. It was with a feeling of personal pride that -I could see a faint tinge of colour steal back into the pallid cheeks -and lips. No man knows, till he experiences it, what it is to feel -his own lifeblood drawn away into the veins of the woman he loves. -The Professor watched me critically. "That will do," he said. -"Already?" I remonstrated. "You took a great deal more from Art." To -which he smiled a sad sort of smile as he replied, -"He is her lover, her fiance. You have work, much work to do for her -and for others, and the present will suffice." -When we stopped the operation, he attended to Lucy, whilst I applied -digital pressure to my own incision. I laid down, while I waited his -leisure to attend to me, for I felt faint and a little sick. By and -by he bound up my wound, and sent me downstairs to get a glass of wine -for myself. As I was leaving the room, he came after me, and half -whispered. -"Mind, nothing must be said of this. If our young lover should turn -up unexpected, as before, no word to him. It would at once frighten -him and enjealous him, too. There must be none. So" -When I came back he looked at me carefully, and then said, "You are -not much the worse. Go into the room, and lie on your sofa, and rest -awhile, then have much breakfast and come here to me." -I followed out his orders, for I knew how right and wise they were. I -had done my part, and now my next duty was to keep up my strength. I -felt very weak, and in the weakness lost something of the amazement at -what had occurred. I fell asleep on the sofa, however, wondering over -and over again how Lucy had made such a retrograde movement, and how -she could have been drained of so much blood with no sign any where to -show for it. I think I must have continued my wonder in my dreams, -for, sleeping and waking my thoughts always came back to the little -punctures in her throat and the ragged, exhausted appearance of their -edges, tiny though they were. -Lucy slept well into the day, and when she woke she was fairly well -and strong, though not nearly so much so as the day before. When Van -Helsing had seen her, he went out for a walk, leaving me in charge, -with strict injunctions that I was not to leave her for a moment. I -could hear his voice in the hall, asking the way to the nearest -telegraph office. -Lucy chatted with me freely, and seemed quite unconscious that -anything had happened. I tried to keep her amused and interested. -When her mother came up to see her, she did not seem to notice any -change whatever, but said to me gratefully, -"We owe you so much, Dr. Seward, for all you have done, but you really -must now take care not to overwork yourself. You are looking pale -yourself. You want a wife to nurse and look after you a bit, that you -do" As she spoke, Lucy turned crimson, though it was only -momentarily, for her poor wasted veins could not stand for long an -unwonted drain to the head. The reaction came in excessive pallor as -she turned imploring eyes on me. I smiled and nodded, and laid my -finger on my lips. With a sigh, she sank back amid her pillows. -Van Helsing returned in a couple of hours, and presently said to me -"Now you go home, and eat much and drink enough. Make yourself -strong. I stay here tonight, and I shall sit up with little miss -myself. You and I must watch the case, and we must have none other to -know. I have grave reasons. No, do not ask me. Think what you will. -Do not fear to think even the most notimprobable. Goodnight." -In the hall two of the maids came to me, and asked if they or either -of them might not sit up with Miss Lucy. They implored me to let -them, and when I said it was Dr. Van Helsing's wish that either he or -I should sit up, they asked me quite piteously to intercede with -the 'foreign gentleman'. I was much touched by their kindness. Perhaps -it is because I am weak at present, and perhaps because it was on -Lucy's account, that their devotion was manifested. For over and over -again have I seen similar instances of woman's kindness. I got back -here in time for a late dinner, went my rounds, all well, and set this -down whilst waiting for sleep. It is coming. - September.This afternoon I went over to Hillingham. Found Van -Helsing in excellent spirits, and Lucy much better. Shortly after I -had arrived, a big parcel from abroad came for the Professor. He -opened it with much impressment, assumed, of course, and showed a -great bundle of white flowers. -"These are for you, Miss Lucy," he said. -"For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing" -"Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with. These are medicines." -Here Lucy made a wry face. "Nay, but they are not to take in a -decoction or in nauseous form, so you need not snub that so charming -nose, or I shall point out to my friend Arthur what woes he may have -to endure in seeing so much beauty that he so loves so much distort. -Aha, my pretty miss, that bring the so nice nose all straight again. -This is medicinal, but you do not know how. I put him in your window, -I make pretty wreath, and hang him round your neck, so you sleep well. -Oh, yes They, like the lotus flower, make your trouble forgotten. -It smell so like the waters of Lethe, and of that fountain of youth -that the Conquistadores sought for in the Floridas, and find him all -too late." -Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had been examining the flowers and -smelling them. Now she threw them down saying, with half laughter, -and half disgust, -"Oh, Professor, I believe you are only putting up a joke on me. Why, -these flowers are only common garlic." -To my surprise, Van Helsing rose up and said with all his sternness, -his iron jaw set and his bushy eyebrows meeting, -"No trifling with me I never jest There is grim purpose in what I -do, and I warn you that you do not thwart me. Take care, for the sake -of others if not for your own." Then seeing poor Lucy scared, as she -might well be, he went on more gently, "Oh, little miss, my dear, do -not fear me. I only do for your good, but there is much virtue to you -in those so common flowers. See, I place them myself in your room. I -make myself the wreath that you are to wear. But hush No telling to -others that make so inquisitive questions. We must obey, and silence -is a part of obedience, and obedience is to bring you strong and well -into loving arms that wait for you. Now sit still a while. Come with -me, friend John, and you shall help me deck the room with my garlic, -which is all the way from Haarlem, where my friend Vanderpool raise -herb in his glass houses all the year. I had to telegraph yesterday, -or they would not have been here." -We went into the room, taking the flowers with us. The Professor's -actions were certainly odd and not to be found in any pharmacopeia -that I ever heard of. First he fastened up the windows and latched -them securely. Next, taking a handful of the flowers, he rubbed them -all over the sashes, as though to ensure that every whiff of air that -might get in would be laden with the garlic smell. Then with the wisp -he rubbed all over the jamb of the door, above, below, and at each -side, and round the fireplace in the same way. It all seemed -grotesque to me, and presently I said, "Well, Professor, I know you -always have a reason for what you do, but this certainly puzzles me. -It is well we have no sceptic here, or he would say that you were -working some spell to keep out an evil spirit." -"Perhaps I am" he answered quietly as he began to make the wreath -which Lucy was to wear round her neck. -We then waited whilst Lucy made her toilet for the night, and when she -was in bed he came and himself fixed the wreath of garlic round her -neck. The last words he said to her were, -"Take care you do not disturb it, and even if the room feel close, do -not tonight open the window or the door." -"I promise," said Lucy. "And thank you both a thousand times for all -your kindness to me Oh, what have I done to be blessed with such -friends?" -As we left the house in my fly, which was waiting, Van Helsing said, -"Tonight I can sleep in peace, and sleep I want, two nights of travel, -much reading in the day between, and much anxiety on the day to -follow, and a night to sit up, without to wink. Tomorrow in the -morning early you call for me, and we come together to see our pretty -miss, so much more strong for my 'spell' which I have work. Ho, ho" -He seemed so confident that I, remembering my own confidence two -nights before and with the baneful result, felt awe and vague terror. -It must have been my weakness that made me hesitate to tell it to my -friend, but I felt it all the more, like unshed tears. -CHAPTER -LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY - September.How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear -Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. -He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have -been right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not -dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear. I -shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible -struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late, the pain of -sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown -horrors as it has for me How blessed are some people, whose lives -have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes -nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. Well, here I am -tonight, hoping for sleep, and lying like Ophelia in the play, with -'virgin crants and maiden strewments.' I never liked garlic before, -but tonight it is delightful There is peace in its smell. I feel -sleep coming already. Goodnight, everybody. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Called at the Berkeley and found Van Helsing, as usual, -up to time. The carriage ordered from the hotel was waiting. The -Professor took his bag, which he always brings with him now. -Let all be put down exactly. Van Helsing and I arrived at Hillingham -at eight o'clock. It was a lovely morning. The bright sunshine and -all the fresh feeling of early autumn seemed like the completion of -nature's annual work. The leaves were turning to all kinds of -beautiful colours, but had not yet begun to drop from the trees. When -we entered we met Mrs. Westenra coming out of the morning room. She -is always an early riser. She greeted us warmly and said, -"You will be glad to know that Lucy is better. The dear child is -still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in, -lest I should disturb her." The Professor smiled, and looked quite -jubilant. He rubbed his hands together, and said, "Aha I thought I -had diagnosed the case. My treatment is working." -To which she replied, "You must not take all the credit to yourself, -doctor. Lucy's state this morning is due in part to me." -"How do you mean, ma'am?" asked the Professor. -"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into -her room. She was sleeping soundly, so soundly that even my coming -did not wake her. But the room was awfully stuffy. There were a lot -of those horrible, strongsmelling flowers about everywhere, and she -had actually a bunch of them round her neck. I feared that the heavy -odour would be too much for the dear child in her weak state, so I took -them all away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh -air. You will be pleased with her, I am sure." -She moved off into her boudoir, where she usually breakfasted early. -As she had spoken, I watched the Professor's face, and saw it turn -ashen gray. He had been able to retain his selfcommand whilst the -poor lady was present, for he knew her state and how mischievous a -shock would be. He actually smiled on her as he held open the door -for her to pass into her room. But the instant she had disappeared he -pulled me, suddenly and forcibly, into the dining room and closed the -door. -Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down. He -raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair, and then -beat his palms together in a helpless way. Finally he sat down on a -chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, -dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart. -Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to the whole -universe. "God God God" he said. "What have we done, what has -this poor thing done, that we are so sore beset? Is there fate -amongst us still, send down from the pagan world of old, that such -things must be, and in such way? This poor mother, all unknowing, and -all for the best as she think, does such thing as lose her daughter -body and soul, and we must not tell her, we must not even warn her, or -she die, then both die. Oh, how we are beset How are all the powers -of the devils against us" -Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Come," he said, "come, we must see and -act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not. -We must fight him all the same." He went to the hall door for his -bag, and together we went up to Lucy's room. -Once again I drew up the blind, whilst Van Helsing went towards the -bed. This time he did not start as he looked on the poor face with -the same awful, waxen pallor as before. He wore a look of stern -sadness and infinite pity. -"As I expected," he murmured, with that hissing inspiration of his -which meant so much. Without a word he went and locked the door, and -then began to set out on the little table the instruments for yet -another operation of transfusion of blood. I had long ago recognized -the necessity, and begun to take off my coat, but he stopped me with a -warning hand. "No" he said. "Today you must operate. I shall -provide. You are weakened already." As he spoke he took off his coat -and rolled up his shirtsleeve. -Again the operation. Again the narcotic. Again some return of colour -to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep. This -time I watched whilst Van Helsing recruited himself and rested. -Presently he took an opportunity of telling Mrs. Westenra that she -must not remove anything from Lucy's room without consulting him. -That the flowers were of medicinal value, and that the breathing of -their odour was a part of the system of cure. Then he took over the -care of the case himself, saying that he would watch this night and -the next, and would send me word when to come. -After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and -seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal. -What does it all mean? I am beginning to wonder if my long habit of -life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own brain. -LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY - September.Four days and nights of peace. I am getting so strong -again that I hardly know myself. It is as if I had passed through -some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful -sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me. I have a -dim half remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing, -darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present -distress more poignant. And then long spells of oblivion, and the -rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of -water. Since, however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this bad -dreaming seems to have passed away. The noises that used to frighten -me out of my wits, the flapping against the windows, the distant -voices which seemed so close to me, the harsh sounds that came from I -know not where and commanded me to do I know not what, have all -ceased. I go to bed now without any fear of sleep. I do not even try -to keep awake. I have grown quite fond of the garlic, and a boxful -arrives for me every day from Haarlem. Tonight Dr. Van Helsing is -going away, as he has to be for a day in Amsterdam. But I need not be -watched. I am well enough to be left alone. -Thank God for Mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our -friends who have been so kind I shall not even feel the change, for -last night Dr. Van Helsing slept in his chair a lot of the time. I -found him asleep twice when I awoke. But I did not fear to go to -sleep again, although the boughs or bats or something flapped almost -angrily against the window panes. -THE PALL MALL GAZETTE September. -THE ESCAPED WOLF PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF OUR INTERVIEWER -INTERVIEW WITH THE KEEPER IN THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS -After many inquiries and almost as many refusals, and perpetually -using the words 'PALL MALL GAZETTE' as a sort of talisman, I managed -to find the keeper of the section of the Zoological Gardens in which -the wolf department is included. Thomas Bilder lives in one of the -cottages in the enclosure behind the elephant house, and was just -sitting down to his tea when I found him. Thomas and his wife are -hospitable folk, elderly, and without children, and if the specimen -I enjoyed of their hospitality be of the average kind, their lives -must be pretty comfortable. The keeper would not enter on what he -called business until the supper was over, and we were all -satisfied. Then when the table was cleared, and he had lit his -pipe, he said, -"Now, Sir, you can go on and arsk me what you want. You'll excoose -me refoosin' to talk of perfeshunal subjucts afore meals. I gives -the wolves and the jackals and the hyenas in all our section their -tea afore I begins to arsk them questions." -"How do you mean, ask them questions?" I queried, wishful to get him -into a talkative humor. -"'Ittin' of them over the 'ead with a pole is one way. Scratchin' of -their ears in another, when gents as is flush wants a bit of a show -orf to their gals. I don't so much mind the fust, the 'ittin of the -pole part afore I chucks in their dinner, but I waits till they've -'ad their sherry and kawffee, so to speak, afore I tries on with the -ear scratchin'. Mind you," he added philosophically, "there's a -deal of the same nature in us as in them theer animiles. Here's you -acomin' and arskin' of me questions about my business, and I that -grumplike that only for your bloomin' 'arfquid I'd 'a' seen you -blowed fust 'fore I'd answer. Not even when you arsked me sarcastic -like if I'd like you to arsk the Superintendent if you might arsk me -questions. Without offence did I tell yer to go to 'ell?" -"You did." -"An' when you said you'd report me for usin' obscene language that -was 'ittin' me over the 'ead. But the 'arfquid made that all -right. I weren't agoin' to fight, so I waited for the food, and -did with my 'owl as the wolves and lions and tigers does. But, lor' -love yer 'art, now that the old 'ooman has stuck a chunk of her tea -cake in me, an' rinsed me out with her bloomin' old teapot, and I've -lit hup, you may scratch my ears for all you're worth, and won't -even get a growl out of me. Drive along with your questions. I -know what yer acomin' at, that 'ere escaped wolf." -"Exactly. I want you to give me your view of it. Just tell me how -it happened, and when I know the facts I'll get you to say what you -consider was the cause of it, and how you think the whole affair -will end." -"All right, guv'nor. This 'ere is about the 'ole story. -That 'ere wolf what we called Bersicker was one of three gray -ones that came from Norway to Jamrach's, which we bought -off him four years ago. He was a nice wellbehaved wolf, -that never gave no trouble to talk of. I'm more surprised -at 'im for wantin' to get out nor any other animile in the -place. But, there, you can't trust wolves no more nor women." -"Don't you mind him, Sir" broke in Mrs. Tom, with a cheery -laugh. "'E's got mindin' the animiles so long that blest -if he ain't like a old wolf 'isself But there ain't no -'arm in 'im." -"Well, Sir, it was about two hours after feedin' yesterday when I -first hear my disturbance. I was makin' up a litter in the monkey -house for a young puma which is ill. But when I heard the yelpin' -and 'owlin' I kem away straight. There was Bersicker atearin' like -a mad thing at the bars as if he wanted to get out. There wasn't -much people about that day, and close at hand was only one man, a -tall, thin chap, with a 'ook nose and a pointed beard, with a few -white hairs runnin' through it. He had a 'ard, cold look and red -eyes, and I took a sort of mislike to him, for it seemed as if it -was 'im as they was hirritated at. He 'ad white kid gloves on 'is -'ands, and he pointed out the animiles to me and says, 'Keeper, -these wolves seem upset at something.' -"'Maybe it's you,' says I, for I did not like the airs as he -give 'isself. He didn't get angry, as I 'oped he would, but -he smiled a kind of insolent smile, with a mouth full of white, -sharp teeth. 'Oh no, they wouldn't like me,' 'e says. -"'Ow yes, they would,' says I, aimitatin' of him. 'They -always like a bone or two to clean their teeth on about tea -time, which you 'as a bagful.' -"Well, it was a odd thing, but when the animiles see us -atalkin' they lay down, and when I went over to Bersicker -he let me stroke his ears same as ever. That there man kem -over, and blessed but if he didn't put in his hand and stroke -the old wolf's ears too -"'Tyke care,' says I. 'Bersicker is quick.' -"'Never mind,' he says. I'm used to 'em' -"'Are you in the business yourself?' I says, tyking off my -'at, for a man what trades in wolves, anceterer, is a good -friend to keepers. -"'Nom,' says he, 'not exactly in the business, but I 'ave made pets -of several.' And with that he lifts his 'at as perlite as a lord, -and walks away. Old Bersicker kep' alookin' arter 'im till 'e was -out of sight, and then went and lay down in a corner and wouldn't -come hout the 'ole hevening. Well, larst night, so soon as the moon -was hup, the wolves here all began a'owling. There warn't nothing -for them to 'owl at. There warn't no one near, except some one that -was evidently acallin' a dog somewheres out back of the gardings in -the Park road. Once or twice I went out to see that all was right, -and it was, and then the 'owling stopped. Just before twelve -o'clock I just took a look round afore turnin' in, an', bust me, but -when I kem opposite to old Bersicker's cage I see the rails broken -and twisted about and the cage empty. And that's all I know for -certing." -"Did any one else see anything?" -"One of our gard'ners was acomin' 'ome about that time from a -'armony, when he sees a big gray dog comin' out through the garding -'edges. At least, so he says, but I don't give much for it myself, -for if he did 'e never said a word about it to his missis when 'e -got 'ome, and it was only after the escape of the wolf was made -known, and we had been up all night ahuntin' of the Park for -Bersicker, that he remembered seein' anything. My own belief was -that the 'armony 'ad got into his 'ead." -"Now, Mr. Bilder, can you account in any way for the escape -of the wolf?" -"Well, Sir," he said, with a suspicious sort of modesty, "I think I -can, but I don't know as 'ow you'd be satisfied with the theory." -"Certainly I shall. If a man like you, who knows the animals from -experience, can't hazard a good guess at any rate, who is even to -try?" -"Well then, Sir, I accounts for it this way. It seems to me that -'ere wolf escapedsimply because he wanted to get out." -From the hearty way that both Thomas and his wife laughed at the -joke I could see that it had done service before, and that the whole -explanation was simply an elaborate sell. I couldn't cope in -badinage with the worthy Thomas, but I thought I knew a surer way to -his heart, so I said, "Now, Mr. Bilder, we'll consider that first -halfsovereign worked off, and this brother of his is waiting to be -claimed when you've told me what you think will happen." -"Right y'are, Sir," he said briskly. "Ye'll excoose me, I -know, for achaffin' of ye, but the old woman here winked at -me, which was as much as telling me to go on." -"Well, I never" said the old lady. -"My opinion is this that 'ere wolf is a'idin' of, somewheres. The -gard'ner wot didn't remember said he was agallopin' northward -faster than a horse could go, but I don't believe him, for, yer see, -Sir, wolves don't gallop no more nor dogs does, they not bein' built -that way. Wolves is fine things in a storybook, and I dessay when -they gets in packs and does be chivyin' somethin' that's more -afeared than they is they can make a devil of a noise and chop it -up, whatever it is. But, Lor' bless you, in real life a wolf is -only a low creature, not half so clever or bold as a good dog, and -not half a quarter so much fight in 'im. This one ain't been used -to fightin' or even to providin' for hisself, and more like he's -somewhere round the Park a'hidin' an' a'shiverin' of, and if he -thinks at all, wonderin' where he is to get his breakfast from. Or -maybe he's got down some area and is in a coal cellar. My eye, -won't some cook get a rum start when she sees his green eyes -ashinin' at her out of the dark If he can't get food he's bound to -look for it, and mayhap he may chance to light on a butcher's shop -in time. If he doesn't, and some nursemaid goes out walkin' or orf -with a soldier, leavin' of the hinfant in the perambulatorwell, -then I shouldn't be surprised if the census is one babby the less. -That's all." -I was handing him the halfsovereign, when something came bobbing up -against the window, and Mr. Bilder's face doubled its natural length -with surprise. -"God bless me" he said. "If there ain't old Bersicker come back by -'isself" -He went to the door and opened it, a most unnecessary proceeding it -seemed to me. I have always thought that a wild animal never looks -so well as when some obstacle of pronounced durability is between -us. A personal experience has intensified rather than diminished -that idea. -After all, however, there is nothing like custom, for neither Bilder -nor his wife thought any more of the wolf than I should of a dog. -The animal itself was a peaceful and wellbehaved as that father of -all picturewolves, Red Riding Hood's quondam friend, whilst moving -her confidence in masquerade. -The whole scene was a unutterable mixture of comedy and -pathos. The wicked wolf that for a half a day had -paralyzed London and set all the children in town shivering -in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and -was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal -son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender -solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent -said, -"There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of -trouble. Didn't I say it all along? Here's his head all -cut and full of broken glass. 'E's been agettin' over -some bloomin' wall or other. It's a shyme that people are -allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This 'ere's -what comes of it. Come along, Bersicker." -He took the wolf and locked him up in a cage, with a piece -of meat that satisfied, in quantity at any rate, the elementary -conditions of the fatted calf, and went off to report. -I came off too, to report the only exclusive information -that is given today regarding the strange escapade at the -Zoo. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.I was engaged after dinner in my study posting up my -books, which, through press of other work and the many visits to Lucy, -had fallen sadly into arrear. Suddenly the door was burst open, and -in rushed my patient, with his face distorted with passion. I was -thunderstruck, for such a thing as a patient getting of his own accord -into the Superintendent's study is almost unknown. -Without an instant's notice he made straight at me. He had a dinner -knife in his hand, and as I saw he was dangerous, I tried to keep the -table between us. He was too quick and too strong for me, however, -for before I could get my balance he had struck at me and cut my left -wrist rather severely. -Before he could strike again, however, I got in my right hand and he -was sprawling on his back on the floor. My wrist bled freely, and -quite a little pool trickled on to the carpet. I saw that my friend -was not intent on further effort, and occupied myself binding up my -wrist, keeping a wary eye on the prostrate figure all the time. When -the attendants rushed in, and we turned our attention to him, his -employment positively sickened me. He was lying on his belly on the -floor licking up, like a dog, the blood which had fallen from my -wounded wrist. He was easily secured, and to my surprise, went with -the attendants quite placidly, simply repeating over and over again, -"The blood is the life The blood is the life" -I cannot afford to lose blood just at present. I have lost too much -of late for my physical good, and then the prolonged strain of Lucy's -illness and its horrible phases is telling on me. I am over excited -and weary, and I need rest, rest, rest. Happily Van Helsing has not -summoned me, so I need not forego my sleep. Tonight I could not well -do without it. -TELEGRAM, VAN HELSING, ANTWERP, TO SEWARD, CARFAX -Sent to Carfax, Sussex, as no county given, delivered late -by twentytwo hours. - September.Do not fail to be at Hilllingham tonight. -If not watching all the time, frequently visit and see that -flowers are as placed, very important, do not fail. Shall -be with you as soon as possible after arrival. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Just off train to London. The arrival of Van -Helsing's telegram filled me with dismay. A whole night lost, -and I know by bitter experience what may happen in a night. -Of course it is possible that all may be well, but what may -have happened? Surely there is some horrible doom hanging over us -that every possible accident should thwart us in all we try to do. -I shall take this cylinder with me, and then I can complete -my entry on Lucy's phonograph. -MEMORANDUM LEFT BY LUCY WESTENRA - September, Night.I write this and leave it to be seen, -so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through -me. This is an exact record of what took place tonight. I -feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to -write, but it must be done if I die in the doing. -I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers were -placed as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep. -I was waked by the flapping at the window, which had begun after -that sleepwalking on the cliff at Whitby when Mina saved me, and -which now I know so well. I was not afraid, but I did wish that -Dr. Seward was in the next room, as Dr. Van Helsing said he would -be, so that I might have called him. I tried to sleep, but I -could not. Then there came to me the old fear of sleep, and I -determined to keep awake. Perversely sleep would try to come then -when I did not want it. So, as I feared to be alone, I opened my -door and called out, "Is there anybody there?" There was no -answer. I was afraid to wake mother, and so closed my door -again. Then outside in the shrubbery I heard a sort of howl like -a dog's, but more fierce and deeper. I went to the window and -looked out, but could see nothing, except a big bat, which had -evidently been buffeting its wings against the window. So I went -back to bed again, but determined not to go to sleep. Presently -the door opened, and mother looked in. Seeing by my moving that -I was not asleep, she came in and sat by me. She said to me even -more sweetly and softly than her wont, -"I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to see that -you were all right." -I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and asked her -to come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed, and lay -down beside me. She did not take off her dressing gown, -for she said she would only stay a while and then go back -to her own bed. As she lay there in my arms, and I in hers -the flapping and buffeting came to the window again. She -was startled and a little frightened, and cried out, "What -is that?" -I tried to pacify her, and at last succeeded, and she lay -quiet. But I could hear her poor dear heart still beating -terribly. After a while there was the howl again out in -the shrubbery, and shortly after there was a crash at the -window, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor. -The window blind blew back with the wind that rushed in, -and in the aperture of the broken panes there was the head -of a great, gaunt gray wolf. -Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a -sitting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would -help her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of -flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round -my neck, and tore it away from me. For a second or two she -sat up, pointing at the wolf, and there was a strange and -horrible gurgling in her throat. Then she fell over, as if -struck with lightning, and her head hit my forehead and -made me dizzy for a moment or two. -The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes -fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole -myriad of little specks seems to come blowing in through the -broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of -dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the -desert. I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and -dear Mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already, for -her dear heart had ceased to beat, weighed me down, and I -remembered no more for a while. -The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I -recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing -bell was tolling. The dogs all round the neighbourhood were -howling, and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a -nightingale was singing. I was dazed and stupid with pain -and terror and weakness, but the sound of the nightingale -seemed like the voice of my dead mother come back to comfort me. -The sounds seemed to have awakened the maids, too, for I could -hear their bare feet pattering outside my door. I called to -them, and they came in, and when they saw what had happened, and -what it was that lay over me on the bed, they screamed out. The -wind rushed in through the broken window, and the door slammed -to. They lifted off the body of my dear mother, and laid her, -covered up with a sheet, on the bed after I had got up. They -were all so frightened and nervous that I directed them to go to -the dining room and each have a glass of wine. The door flew -open for an instant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and -then went in a body to the dining room, and I laid what flowers I -had on my dear mother's breast. When they were there I -remembered what Dr. Van Helsing had told me, but I didn't like to -remove them, and besides, I would have some of the servants to -sit up with me now. I was surprised that the maids did not come -back. I called them, but got no answer, so I went to the dining -room to look for them. -My heart sank when I saw what had happened. They all four -lay helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. The decanter -of sherry was on the table half full, but there was a queer, -acrid smell about. I was suspicious, and examined the decanter. -It smelt of laudanum, and looking on the sideboard, I found that -the bottle which Mother's doctor uses for heroh did usewas -empty. What am I to do? What am I to do? I am back in the room -with Mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the -sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the -dead I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf -through the broken window. -The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the -draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. -What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night I -shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find -it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone It -is time that I go too. Goodbye, dear Arthur, if I should -not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help -me -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.I drove at once to Hillingham and arrived early. -Keeping my cab at the gate, I went up the avenue alone. I knocked -gently and rang as quietly as possible, for I feared to disturb Lucy -or her mother, and hoped to only bring a servant to the door. After a -while, finding no response, I knocked and rang again, still no -answer. I cursed the laziness of the servants that they should lie -abed at such an hour, for it was now ten o'clock, and so rang and -knocked again, but more impatiently, but still without response. -Hitherto I had blamed only the servants, but now a terrible fear began -to assail me. Was this desolation but another link in the chain of -doom which seemed drawing tight round us? Was it indeed a house of -death to which I had come, too late? I know that minutes, even -seconds of delay, might mean hours of danger to Lucy, if she had had -again one of those frightful relapses, and I went round the house to -try if I could find by chance an entry anywhere. -I could find no means of ingress. Every window and door was fastened -and locked, and I returned baffled to the porch. As I did so, I heard -the rapid pitpat of a swiftly driven horse's feet. They stopped at -the gate, and a few seconds later I met Van Helsing running up the -avenue. When he saw me, he gasped out, "Then it was you, and just -arrived. How is she? Are we too late? Did you not get my telegram?" -I answered as quickly and coherently as I could that I had only got -his telegram early in the morning, and had not a minute in coming -here, and that I could not make any one in the house hear me. He -paused and raised his hat as he said solemnly, "Then I fear we are too -late. God's will be done" -With his usual recuperative energy, he went on, "Come. If there be no -way open to get in, we must make one. Time is all in all to us now." -We went round to the back of the house, where there was a kitchen -window. The Professor took a small surgical saw from his case, and -handing it to me, pointed to the iron bars which guarded the window. -I attacked them at once and had very soon cut through three of them. -Then with a long, thin knife we pushed back the fastening of the -sashes and opened the window. I helped the Professor in, and followed -him. There was no one in the kitchen or in the servants' rooms, which -were close at hand. We tried all the rooms as we went along, and in -the dining room, dimly lit by rays of light through the shutters, -found four servant women lying on the floor. There was no need to -think them dead, for their stertorous breathing and the acrid smell of -laudanum in the room left no doubt as to their condition. -Van Helsing and I looked at each other, and as we moved away he said, -"We can attend to them later." Then we ascended to Lucy's room. For an -instant or two we paused at the door to listen, but there was no sound -that we could hear. With white faces and trembling hands, we opened -the door gently, and entered the room. -How shall I describe what we saw? On the bed lay two women, Lucy and -her mother. The latter lay farthest in, and she was covered with a -white sheet, the edge of which had been blown back by the drought -through the broken window, showing the drawn, white, face, with a look -of terror fixed upon it. By her side lay Lucy, with face white and -still more drawn. The flowers which had been round her neck we found -upon her mother's bosom, and her throat was bare, showing the two -little wounds which we had noticed before, but looking horribly white -and mangled. Without a word the Professor bent over the bed, his head -almost touching poor Lucy's breast. Then he gave a quick turn of his -head, as of one who listens, and leaping to his feet, he cried out to -me, "It is not yet too late Quick Quick Bring the brandy" -I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and taste -it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I -found on the table. The maids were still breathing, but more -restlessly, and I fancied that the narcotic was wearing off. I did -not stay to make sure, but returned to Van Helsing. He rubbed the -brandy, as on another occasion, on her lips and gums and on her wrists -and the palms of her hands. He said to me, "I can do this, all that -can be at the present. You go wake those maids. Flick them in the -face with a wet towel, and flick them hard. Make them get heat and -fire and a warm bath. This poor soul is nearly as cold as that beside -her. She will need be heated before we can do anything more." -I went at once, and found little difficulty in waking three of the -women. The fourth was only a young girl, and the drug had evidently -affected her more strongly so I lifted her on the sofa and let her -sleep. -The others were dazed at first, but as remembrance came back to them -they cried and sobbed in a hysterical manner. I was stern with them, -however, and would not let them talk. I told them that one life was -bad enough to lose, and if they delayed they would sacrifice Miss -Lucy. So, sobbing and crying they went about their way, half clad as -they were, and prepared fire and water. Fortunately, the kitchen and -boiler fires were still alive, and there was no lack of hot water. We -got a bath and carried Lucy out as she was and placed her in it. -Whilst we were busy chafing her limbs there was a knock at the hall -door. One of the maids ran off, hurried on some more clothes, and -opened it. Then she returned and whispered to us that there was a -gentleman who had come with a message from Mr. Holmwood. I bade her -simply tell him that he must wait, for we could see no one now. She -went away with the message, and, engrossed with our work, I clean -forgot all about him. -I never saw in all my experience the Professor work in such deadly -earnest. I knew, as he knew, that it was a standup fight with death, -and in a pause told him so. He answered me in a way that I did not -understand, but with the sternest look that his face could wear. -"If that were all, I would stop here where we are now, and let her -fade away into peace, for I see no light in life over her horizon." He -went on with his work with, if possible, renewed and more frenzied -vigour. -Presently we both began to be conscious that the heat was beginning to -be of some effect. Lucy's heart beat a trifle more audibly to the -stethoscope, and her lungs had a perceptible movement. Van Helsing's -face almost beamed, and as we lifted her from the bath and rolled her -in a hot sheet to dry her he said to me, "The first gain is ours -Check to the King" -We took Lucy into another room, which had by now been prepared, and -laid her in bed and forced a few drops of brandy down her throat. I -noticed that Van Helsing tied a soft silk handkerchief round her -throat. She was still unconscious, and was quite as bad as, if not -worse than, we had ever seen her. -Van Helsing called in one of the women, and told her to stay with her -and not to take her eyes off her till we returned, and then beckoned -me out of the room. -"We must consult as to what is to be done," he said as we descended -the stairs. In the hall he opened the dining room door, and we passed -in, he closing the door carefully behind him. The shutters had been -opened, but the blinds were already down, with that obedience to the -etiquette of death which the British woman of the lower classes always -rigidly observes. The room was, therefore, dimly dark. It was, -however, light enough for our purposes. Van Helsing's sternness was -somewhat relieved by a look of perplexity. He was evidently torturing -his mind about something, so I waited for an instant, and he spoke. -"What are we to do now? Where are we to turn for help? We must have -another transfusion of blood, and that soon, or that poor girl's life -won't be worth an hour's purchase. You are exhausted already. I am -exhausted too. I fear to trust those women, even if they would have -courage to submit. What are we to do for some one who will open his -veins for her?" -"What's the matter with me, anyhow?" -The voice came from the sofa across the room, and its tones brought -relief and joy to my heart, for they were those of Quincey Morris. -Van Helsing started angrily at the first sound, but his face softened -and a glad look came into his eyes as I cried out, "Quincey Morris" -and rushed towards him with outstretched hands. -"What brought you here?" I cried as our hands met. -"I guess Art is the cause." -He handed me a telegram.'Have not heard from Seward for three days, -and am terribly anxious. Cannot leave. Father still in same -condition. Send me word how Lucy is. Do not delay.Holmwood.' -"I think I came just in the nick of time. You know you have only to -tell me what to do." -Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in -the eyes as he said, "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this -earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake. Well, -the devil may work against us for all he's worth, but God sends us men -when we want them." -Once again we went through that ghastly operation. I have not the -heart to go through with the details. Lucy had got a terrible shock -and it told on her more than before, for though plenty of blood went -into her veins, her body did not respond to the treatment as well as -on the other occasions. Her struggle back into life was something -frightful to see and hear. However, the action of both heart and -lungs improved, and Van Helsing made a subcutaneous injection of -morphia, as before, and with good effect. Her faint became a profound -slumber. The Professor watched whilst I went downstairs with Quincey -Morris, and sent one of the maids to pay off one of the cabmen who -were waiting. -I left Quincey lying down after having a glass of wine, and told the -cook to get ready a good breakfast. Then a thought struck me, and I -went back to the room where Lucy now was. When I came softly in, I -found Van Helsing with a sheet or two of note paper in his hand. He -had evidently read it, and was thinking it over as he sat with his -hand to his brow. There was a look of grim satisfaction in his face, -as of one who has had a doubt solved. He handed me the paper saying -only, "It dropped from Lucy's breast when we carried her to the bath." -When I had read it, I stood looking at the Professor, and after a -pause asked him, "In God's name, what does it all mean? Was she, or -is she, mad, or what sort of horrible danger is it?" I was so -bewildered that I did not know what to say more. Van Helsing put out -his hand and took the paper, saying, -"Do not trouble about it now. Forget it for the present. You shall -know and understand it all in good time, but it will be later. And -now what is it that you came to me to say?" This brought me back to -fact, and I was all myself again. -"I came to speak about the certificate of death. If we do not act -properly and wisely, there may be an inquest, and that paper would -have to be produced. I am in hopes that we need have no inquest, for -if we had it would surely kill poor Lucy, if nothing else did. I -know, and you know, and the other doctor who attended her knows, that -Mrs. Westenra had disease of the heart, and we can certify that she -died of it. Let us fill up the certificate at once, and I shall take -it myself to the registrar and go on to the undertaker." -"Good, oh my friend John Well thought of Truly Miss Lucy, if she -be sad in the foes that beset her, is at least happy in the friends -that love her. One, two, three, all open their veins for her, besides -one old man. Ah, yes, I know, friend John. I am not blind I love -you all the more for it Now go." -In the hall I met Quincey Morris, with a telegram for Arthur telling -him that Mrs. Westenra was dead, that Lucy also had been ill, but was -now going on better, and that Van Helsing and I were with her. I told -him where I was going, and he hurried me out, but as I was going said, -"When you come back, Jack, may I have two words with you all to -ourselves?" I nodded in reply and went out. I found no difficulty -about the registration, and arranged with the local undertaker to come -up in the evening to measure for the coffin and to make arrangements. -When I got back Quincey was waiting for me. I told him I would see -him as soon as I knew about Lucy, and went up to her room. She was -still sleeping, and the Professor seemingly had not moved from his -seat at her side. From his putting his finger to his lips, I gathered -that he expected her to wake before long and was afraid of -forestalling nature. So I went down to Quincey and took him into the -breakfast room, where the blinds were not drawn down, and which was a -little more cheerful, or rather less cheerless, than the other rooms. -When we were alone, he said to me, "Jack Seward, I don't want to shove -myself in anywhere where I've no right to be, but this is no ordinary -case. You know I loved that girl and wanted to marry her, but -although that's all past and gone, I can't help feeling anxious about -her all the same. What is it that's wrong with her? The Dutchman, -and a fine old fellow he is, I can see that, said that time you two -came into the room, that you must have another transfusion of blood, -and that both you and he were exhausted. Now I know well that you -medical men speak in camera, and that a man must not expect to know -what they consult about in private. But this is no common matter, and -whatever it is, I have done my part. Is not that so?" -"That's so," I said, and he went on. -"I take it that both you and Van Helsing had done already what I did -today. Is not that so?" -"That's so." -"And I guess Art was in it too. When I saw him four days ago down at -his own place he looked queer. I have not seen anything pulled down -so quick since I was on the Pampas and had a mare that I was fond of -go to grass all in a night. One of those big bats that they call -vampires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorge and the -vein left open, there wasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up, -and I had to put a bullet through her as she lay. Jack, if you may -tell me without betraying confidence, Arthur was the first, is not -that so?" -As he spoke the poor fellow looked terribly anxious. He was in a -torture of suspense regarding the woman he loved, and his utter -ignorance of the terrible mystery which seemed to surround her -intensified his pain. His very heart was bleeding, and it took all -the manhood of him, and there was a royal lot of it, too, to keep him -from breaking down. I paused before answering, for I felt that I must -not betray anything which the Professor wished kept secret, but -already he knew so much, and guessed so much, that there could be no -reason for not answering, so I answered in the same phrase. -"That's so." -"And how long has this been going on?" -"About ten days." -"Ten days Then I guess, Jack Seward, that that poor pretty creature -that we all love has had put into her veins within that time the blood -of four strong men. Man alive, her whole body wouldn't hold it." Then -coming close to me, he spoke in a fierce halfwhisper. "What took it -out?" -I shook my head. "That," I said, "is the crux. Van Helsing is simply -frantic about it, and I am at my wits' end. I can't even hazard a -guess. There has been a series of little circumstances which have -thrown out all our calculations as to Lucy being properly watched. -But these shall not occur again. Here we stay until all be well, or -ill." -Quincey held out his hand. "Count me in," he said. "You and the -Dutchman will tell me what to do, and I'll do it." -When she woke late in the afternoon, Lucy's first movement was to feel -in her breast, and to my surprise, produced the paper which Van -Helsing had given me to read. The careful Professor had replaced it -where it had come from, lest on waking she should be alarmed. Her -eyes then lit on Van Helsing and on me too, and gladdened. Then she -looked round the room, and seeing where she was, shuddered. She gave -a loud cry, and put her poor thin hands before her pale face. -We both understood what was meant, that she had realized to the full -her mother's death. So we tried what we could to comfort her. -Doubtless sympathy eased her somewhat, but she was very low in thought -and spirit, and wept silently and weakly for a long time. We told her -that either or both of us would now remain with her all the time, and -that seemed to comfort her. Towards dusk she fell into a doze. Here -a very odd thing occurred. Whilst still asleep she took the paper -from her breast and tore it in two. Van Helsing stepped over and took -the pieces from her. All the same, however, she went on with the -action of tearing, as though the material were still in her hands. -Finally she lifted her hands and opened them as though scattering the -fragments. Van Helsing seemed surprised, and his brows gathered as if -in thought, but he said nothing. - September.All last night she slept fitfully, being always afraid -to sleep, and something weaker when she woke from it. The Professor -and I took in turns to watch, and we never left her for a moment -unattended. Quincey Morris said nothing about his intention, but I -knew that all night long he patrolled round and round the house. -When the day came, its searching light showed the ravages in poor -Lucy's strength. She was hardly able to turn her head, and the little -nourishment which she could take seemed to do her no good. At times -she slept, and both Van Helsing and I noticed the difference in her, -between sleeping and waking. Whilst asleep she looked stronger, -although more haggard, and her breathing was softer. Her open mouth -showed the pale gums drawn back from the teeth, which looked -positively longer and sharper than usual. When she woke the softness -of her eyes evidently changed the expression, for she looked her own -self, although a dying one. In the afternoon she asked for Arthur, -and we telegraphed for him. Quincey went off to meet him at the -station. -When he arrived it was nearly six o'clock, and the sun was setting -full and warm, and the red light streamed in through the window and -gave more colour to the pale cheeks. When he saw her, Arthur was -simply choking with emotion, and none of us could speak. In the hours -that had passed, the fits of sleep, or the comatose condition that -passed for it, had grown more frequent, so that the pauses when -conversation was possible were shortened. Arthur's presence, however, -seemed to act as a stimulant. She rallied a little, and spoke to him -more brightly than she had done since we arrived. He too pulled -himself together, and spoke as cheerily as he could, so that the best -was made of everything. -It is now nearly one o'clock, and he and Van Helsing are sitting with -her. I am to relieve them in a quarter of an hour, and I am entering -this on Lucy's phonograph. Until six o'clock they are to try to rest. -I fear that tomorrow will end our watching, for the shock has been too -great. The poor child cannot rally. God help us all. -LETTER MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA -Unopened by her - September -My dearest Lucy, -"It seems an age since I heard from you, or indeed since I -wrote. You will pardon me, I know, for all my faults when -you have read all my budget of news. Well, I got my husband back -all right. When we arrived at Exeter there was a carriage -waiting for us, and in it, though he had an attack of gout, Mr. -Hawkins. He took us to his house, where there were rooms for us -all nice and comfortable, and we dined together. After dinner -Mr. Hawkins said, -"'My dears, I want to drink your health and prosperity, and -may every blessing attend you both. I know you both from -children, and have, with love and pride, seen you grow up. -Now I want you to make your home here with me. I have left -to me neither chick nor child. All are gone, and in my -will I have left you everything.' I cried, Lucy dear, as -Jonathan and the old man clasped hands. Our evening was a -very, very happy one. -"So here we are, installed in this beautiful old house, and -from both my bedroom and the drawing room I can see the -great elms of the cathedral close, with their great black -stems standing out against the old yellow stone of the cathedral, -and I can hear the rooks overhead cawing and cawing and -chattering and chattering and gossiping all day, after the manner -of rooksand humans. I am busy, I need not tell you, arranging -things and housekeeping. Jonathan and Mr. Hawkins are busy all -day, for now that Jonathan is a partner, Mr. Hawkins wants to -tell him all about the clients. -"How is your dear mother getting on? I wish I could run up -to town for a day or two to see you, dear, but I dare not -go yet, with so much on my shoulders, and Jonathan wants -looking after still. He is beginning to put some flesh on -his bones again, but he was terribly weakened by the long -illness. Even now he sometimes starts out of his sleep in -a sudden way and awakes all trembling until I can coax him -back to his usual placidity. However, thank God, these -occasions grow less frequent as the days go on, and they -will in time pass away altogether, I trust. And now I have -told you my news, let me ask yours. When are you to be -married, and where, and who is to perform the ceremony, and -what are you to wear, and is it to be a public or private -wedding? Tell me all about it, dear, tell me all about -everything, for there is nothing which interests you which -will not be dear to me. Jonathan asks me to send his 'respectful -duty', but I do not think that is good enough from the junior -partner of the important firm Hawkins Harker. And so, as you -love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and -tenses of the verb, I send you simply his 'love' instead. -Goodbye, my dearest Lucy, and blessings on you. -"Yours, -"Mina Harker" -REPORT FROM PATRICK HENNESSEY, MD, MRCSLK, QCPI, ETC, ETC, -TO JOHN SEWARD, MD - September -My dear Sir -"In accordance with your wishes, I enclose report of the -conditions of everything left in my charge. With regard to -patient, Renfield, there is more to say. He has had another -outbreak, which might have had a dreadful ending, but which, as -it fortunately happened, was unattended with any unhappy results. -This afternoon a carrier's cart with two men made a call at the -empty house whose grounds abut on ours, the house to which, you -will remember, the patient twice ran away. The men stopped at -our gate to ask the porter their way, as they were strangers. -"I was myself looking out of the study window, having a -smoke after dinner, and saw one of them come up to the -house. As he passed the window of Renfield's room, the -patient began to rate him from within, and called him all -the foul names he could lay his tongue to. The man, who -seemed a decent fellow enough, contented himself by telling -him to 'shut up for a foulmouthed beggar', whereon our man -accused him of robbing him and wanting to murder him and -said that he would hinder him if he were to swing for it. -I opened the window and signed to the man not to notice, so -he contented himself after looking the place over and making up -his mind as to what kind of place he had got to by saying, 'Lor' -bless yer, sir, I wouldn't mind what was said to me in a bloomin' -madhouse. I pity ye and the guv'nor for havin' to live in the -house with a wild beast like that.' -"Then he asked his way civilly enough, and I told him where -the gate of the empty house was. He went away followed by -threats and curses and revilings from our man. I went down -to see if I could make out any cause for his anger, since -he is usually such a wellbehaved man, and except his violent -fits nothing of the kind had ever occurred. I found him, to my -astonishment, quite composed and most genial in his manner. I -tried to get him to talk of the incident, but he blandly asked me -questions as to what I meant, and led me to believe that he was -completely oblivious of the affair. It was, I am sorry to say, -however, only another instance of his cunning, for within half an -hour I heard of him again. This time he had broken out through -the window of his room, and was running down the avenue. I -called to the attendants to follow me, and ran after him, for I -feared he was intent on some mischief. My fear was justified -when I saw the same cart which had passed before coming down the -road, having on it some great wooden boxes. The men were wiping -their foreheads, and were flushed in the face, as if with violent -exercise. Before I could get up to him, the patient rushed at -them, and pulling one of them off the cart, began to knock his -head against the ground. If I had not seized him just at the -moment, I believe he would have killed the man there and then. -The other fellow jumped down and struck him over the head with -the butt end of his heavy whip. It was a horrible blow, but he -did not seem to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled with -the three of us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens. -You know I am no lightweight, and the others were both burly men. -At first he was silent in his fighting, but as we began to master -him, and the attendants were putting a strait waistcoat on him, -he began to shout, 'I'll frustrate them They shan't rob me -They shan't murder me by inches I'll fight for my Lord and -Master' and all sorts of similar incoherent ravings. It was -with very considerable difficulty that they got him back to the -house and put him in the padded room. One of the attendants, -Hardy, had a finger broken. However, I set it all right, and he -is going on well. -"The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of -actions for damages, and promised to rain all the penalties -of the law on us. Their threats were, however, mingled -with some sort of indirect apology for the defeat of the -two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if it had -not been for the way their strength had been spent in carrying -and raising the heavy boxes to the cart they would have made -short work of him. They gave as another reason for their defeat -the extraordinary state of drouth to which they had been reduced -by the dusty nature of their occupation and the reprehensible -distance from the scene of their labors of any place of public -entertainment. I quite understood their drift, and after a stiff -glass of strong grog, or rather more of the same, and with each a -sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and swore that -they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure of -meeting so 'bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took -their names and addresses, in case they might be needed. They -are as follows Jack Smollet, of Dudding's Rents, King George's -Road, Great Walworth, and Thomas Snelling, Peter Farley's Row, -Guide Court, Bethnal Green. They are both in the employment of -Harris Sons, Moving and Shipment Company, Orange Master's Yard, -Soho. -"I shall report to you any matter of interest occurring here, and -shall wire you at once if there is anything of importance. -"Believe me, dear Sir, -"Yours faithfully, -"Patrick Hennessey." -LETTER, MINA HARKER TO LUCY WESTENRA Unopened by her - September -"My dearest Lucy, -"Such a sad blow has befallen us. Mr. Hawkins has died very -suddenly. Some may not think it so sad for us, but we had -both come to so love him that it really seems as though we -had lost a father. I never knew either father or mother, -so that the dear old man's death is a real blow to me. Jonathan -is greatly distressed. It is not only that he feels sorrow, deep -sorrow, for the dear, good man who has befriended him all his -life, and now at the end has treated him like his own son and -left him a fortune which to people of our modest bringing up is -wealth beyond the dream of avarice, but Jonathan feels it on -another account. He says the amount of responsibility which it -puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins to doubt himself. I -try to cheer him up, and my belief in him helps him to have a -belief in himself. But it is here that the grave shock that he -experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too hard that a -sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his, a nature which -enabled him by our dear, good friend's aid to rise from clerk to -master in a few years, should be so injured that the very essence -of its strength is gone. Forgive me, dear, if I worry you with my -troubles in the midst of your own happiness, but Lucy dear, I -must tell someone, for the strain of keeping up a brave and -cheerful appearance to Jonathan tries me, and I have no one here -that I can confide in. I dread coming up to London, as we must -do that day after tomorrow, for poor Mr. Hawkins left in his will -that he was to be buried in the grave with his father. As there -are no relations at all, Jonathan will have to be chief mourner. -I shall try to run over to see you, dearest, if only for a few -minutes. Forgive me for troubling you. With all blessings, -"Your loving -"Mina Harker" -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry -tonight. I am too miserable, too low spirited, too sick of the world -and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heard -this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death. And he -has been flapping those grim wings to some purpose of late, Lucy's -mother and Arthur's father, and now . . . Let me get on with my work. -I duly relieved Van Helsing in his watch over Lucy. We wanted Arthur -to go to rest also, but he refused at first. It was only when I told -him that we should want him to help us during the day, and that we -must not all break down for want of rest, lest Lucy should suffer, -that he agreed to go. -Van Helsing was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said. "Come -with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and much -mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of. -You must not be alone, for to be alone is to be full of fears and -alarms. Come to the drawing room, where there is a big fire, and -there are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and -our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not -speak, and even if we sleep." -Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing look on Lucy's face, -which lay in her pillow, almost whiter than the lawn. She lay quite -still, and I looked around the room to see that all was as it should -be. I could see that the Professor had carried out in this room, as -in the other, his purpose of using the garlic. The whole of the -window sashes reeked with it, and round Lucy's neck, over the silk -handkerchief which Van Helsing made her keep on, was a rough chaplet -of the same odorous flowers. -Lucy was breathing somewhat stertorously, and her face was at its -worst, for the open mouth showed the pale gums. Her teeth, in the -dim, uncertain light, seemed longer and sharper than they had been in -the morning. In particular, by some trick of the light, the canine -teeth looked longer and sharper than the rest. -I sat down beside her, and presently she moved uneasily. At the same -moment there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the window. -I went over to it softly, and peeped out by the corner of the blind. -There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by -a great bat, which wheeled around, doubtless attracted by the light, -although so dim, and every now and again struck the window with its -wings. When I came back to my seat, I found that Lucy had moved -slightly, and had torn away the garlic flowers from her throat. I -replaced them as well as I could, and sat watching her. -Presently she woke, and I gave her food, as Van Helsing had -prescribed. She took but a little, and that languidly. There did not -seem to be with her now the unconscious struggle for life and strength -that had hitherto so marked her illness. It struck me as curious that -the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close -to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that -lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers -from her, but that when she waked she clutched them close, There was -no possibility of making any mistake about this, for in the long hours -that followed, she had many spells of sleeping and waking and repeated -both actions many times. -At six o'clock Van Helsing came to relieve me. Arthur had then fallen -into a doze, and he mercifully let him sleep on. When he saw Lucy's -face I could hear the hissing indraw of breath, and he said to me in a -sharp whisper. "Draw up the blind. I want light" Then he bent down, -and, with his face almost touching Lucy's, examined her carefully. He -removed the flowers and lifted the silk handkerchief from her throat. -As he did so he started back and I could hear his ejaculation, "Mein -Gott" as it was smothered in his throat. I bent over and looked, -too, and as I noticed some queer chill came over me. The wounds on -the throat had absolutely disappeared. -For fully five minutes Van Helsing stood looking at her, with his face -at its sternest. Then he turned to me and said calmly, "She is -dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference, mark me, -whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor boy, and -let him come and see the last. He trusts us, and we have promised -him." -I went to the dining room and waked him. He was dazed for a moment, -but when he saw the sunlight streaming in through the edges of the -shutters he thought he was late, and expressed his fear. I assured -him that Lucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as I could that -both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was near. He covered his -face with his hands, and slid down on his knees by the sofa, where he -remained, perhaps a minute, with his head buried, praying, whilst his -shoulders shook with grief. I took him by the hand and raised him up. -"Come," I said, "my dear old fellow, summon all your fortitude. It -will be best and easiest for her." -When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with -his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making -everything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed Lucy's -hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When -we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whispered -softly, "Arthur Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come" -He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back. -"No," he whispered, "not yet Hold her hand, it will comfort her -more." -So Arthur took her hand and knelt beside her, and she looked her best, -with all the soft lines matching the angelic beauty of her eyes. Then -gradually her eyes closed, and she sank to sleep. For a little bit -her breast heaved softly, and her breath came and went like a tired -child's. -And then insensibly there came the strange change which I had noticed -in the night. Her breathing grew stertorous, the mouth opened, and -the pale gums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than -ever. In a sort of sleepwaking, vague, unconscious way she opened -her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once, and said in a soft, -voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her lips, "Arthur -Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come Kiss me" -Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her, but at that instant Van Helsing, -who, like me, had been startled by her voice, swooped upon him, and -catching him by the neck with both hands, dragged him back with a fury -of strength which I never thought he could have possessed, and -actually hurled him almost across the room. -"Not on your life" he said, "not for your living soul and hers" And -he stood between them like a lion at bay. -Arthur was so taken aback that he did not for a moment know what to do -or say, and before any impulse of violence could seize him he realized -the place and the occasion, and stood silent, waiting. -I kept my eyes fixed on Lucy, as did Van Helsing, and we saw a spasm -as of rage flit like a shadow over her face. The sharp teeth clamped -together. Then her eyes closed, and she breathed heavily. -Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness, and -putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great brown -one, drawing it close to her, she kissed it. "My true friend," she -said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos, "My true friend, -and his Oh, guard him, and give me peace" -"I swear it" he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and holding up his -hand, as one who registers an oath. Then he turned to Arthur, and -said to him, "Come, my child, take her hand in yours, and kiss her on -the forehead, and only once." -Their eyes met instead of their lips, and so they parted. Lucy's eyes -closed, and Van Helsing, who had been watching closely, took Arthur's -arm, and drew him away. -And then Lucy's breathing became stertorous again, and all at once it -ceased. -"It is all over," said Van Helsing. "She is dead" -I took Arthur by the arm, and led him away to the drawing room, where -he sat down, and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in a way -that nearly broke me down to see. -I went back to the room, and found Van Helsing looking at poor Lucy, -and his face was sterner than ever. Some change had come over her -body. Death had given back part of her beauty, for her brow and -cheeks had recovered some of their flowing lines. Even the lips had -lost their deadly pallor. It was as if the blood, no longer needed -for the working of the heart, had gone to make the harshness of death -as little rude as might be. -"We thought her dying whilst she slept, And sleeping when she died." -I stood beside Van Helsing, and said, "Ah well, poor girl, there is -peace for her at last. It is the end" -He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity, "Not so, alas Not -so. It is only the beginning" -When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered, -"We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see." -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARYcont. -The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day, so that Lucy and -her mother might be buried together. I attended to all the ghastly -formalities, and the urbane undertaker proved that his staff was -afflicted, or blessed, with something of his own obsequious suavity. -Even the woman who performed the last offices for the dead remarked to -me, in a confidential, brotherprofessional way, when she had come out -from the death chamber, -"She makes a very beautiful corpse, sir. It's quite a privilege to -attend on her. It's not too much to say that she will do credit to -our establishment" -I noticed that Van Helsing never kept far away. This was possible -from the disordered state of things in the household. There were no -relatives at hand, and as Arthur had to be back the next day to attend -at his father's funeral, we were unable to notify any one who should -have been bidden. Under the circumstances, Van Helsing and I took it -upon ourselves to examine papers, etc. He insisted upon looking over -Lucy's papers himself. I asked him why, for I feared that he, being a -foreigner, might not be quite aware of English legal requirements, and -so might in ignorance make some unnecessary trouble. -He answered me, "I know, I know. You forget that I am a lawyer as -well as a doctor. But this is not altogether for the law. You knew -that, when you avoided the coroner. I have more than him to avoid. -There may be papers more, such as this." -As he spoke he took from his pocket book the memorandum which had been -in Lucy's breast, and which she had torn in her sleep. -"When you find anything of the solicitor who is for the late Mrs. -Westenra, seal all her papers, and write him tonight. For me, I watch -here in the room and in Miss Lucy's old room all night, and I myself -search for what may be. It is not well that her very thoughts go into -the hands of strangers." -I went on with my part of the work, and in another half hour had found -the name and address of Mrs. Westenra's solicitor and had written to -him. All the poor lady's papers were in order. Explicit directions -regarding the place of burial were given. I had hardly sealed the -letter, when, to my surprise, Van Helsing walked into the room, -saying, -"Can I help you friend John? I am free, and if I may, my service is -to you." -"Have you got what you looked for?" I asked. -To which he replied, "I did not look for any specific thing. I only -hoped to find, and find I have, all that there was, only some letters -and a few memoranda, and a diary new begun. But I have them here, and -we shall for the present say nothing of them. I shall see that poor -lad tomorrow evening, and, with his sanction, I shall use some." -When we had finished the work in hand, he said to me, "And now, friend -John, I think we may to bed. We want sleep, both you and I, and rest -to recuperate. Tomorrow we shall have much to do, but for the tonight -there is no need of us. Alas" -Before turning in we went to look at poor Lucy. The undertaker had -certainly done his work well, for the room was turned into a small -chapelle ardente. There was a wilderness of beautiful white flowers, -and death was made as little repulsive as might be. The end of the -winding sheet was laid over the face. When the Professor bent over -and turned it gently back, we both started at the beauty before us. -The tall wax candles showing a sufficient light to note it well. All -Lucy's loveliness had come back to her in death, and the hours that -had passed, instead of leaving traces of 'decay's effacing fingers', -had but restored the beauty of life, till positively I could not -believe my eyes that I was looking at a corpse. -The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not loved her as I had, -and there was no need for tears in his eyes. He said to me, "Remain -till I return," and left the room. He came back with a handful of -wild garlic from the box waiting in the hall, but which had not been -opened, and placed the flowers amongst the others on and around the -bed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a little gold -crucifix, and placed it over the mouth. He restored the sheet to its -place, and we came away. -I was undressing in my own room, when, with a premonitory tap at the -door, he entered, and at once began to speak. -"Tomorrow I want you to bring me, before night, a set of postmortem -knives." -"Must we make an autopsy?" I asked. -"Yes and no. I want to operate, but not what you think. Let me tell -you now, but not a word to another. I want to cut off her head and -take out her heart. Ah You a surgeon, and so shocked You, whom I -have seen with no tremble of hand or heart, do operations of life and -death that make the rest shudder. Oh, but I must not forget, my dear -friend John, that you loved her, and I have not forgotten it for is I -that shall operate, and you must not help. I would like to do it -tonight, but for Arthur I must not. He will be free after his -father's funeral tomorrow, and he will want to see her, to see it. -Then, when she is coffined ready for the next day, you and I shall -come when all sleep. We shall unscrew the coffin lid, and shall do -our operation, and then replace all, so that none know, save we -alone." -"But why do it at all? The girl is dead. Why mutilate her poor body -without need? And if there is no necessity for a postmortem and -nothing to gain by it, no good to her, to us, to science, to human -knowledge, why do it? Without such it is monstrous." -For answer he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, with infinite -tenderness, "Friend John, I pity your poor bleeding heart, and I love -you the more because it does so bleed. If I could, I would take on -myself the burden that you do bear. But there are things that you -know not, but that you shall know, and bless me for knowing, though -they are not pleasant things. John, my child, you have been my friend -now many years, and yet did you ever know me to do any without good -cause? I may err, I am but man, but I believe in all I do. Was it -not for these causes that you send for me when the great trouble -came? Yes Were you not amazed, nay horrified, when I would not let -Arthur kiss his love, though she was dying, and snatched him away by -all my strength? Yes And yet you saw how she thanked me, with her -so beautiful dying eyes, her voice, too, so weak, and she kiss my -rough old hand and bless me? Yes And did you not hear me swear -promise to her, that so she closed her eyes grateful? Yes -"Well, I have good reason now for all I want to do. You have for many -years trust me. You have believe me weeks past, when there be things -so strange that you might have well doubt. Believe me yet a little, -friend John. If you trust me not, then I must tell what I think, and -that is not perhaps well. And if I work, as work I shall, no matter -trust or no trust, without my friend trust in me, I work with heavy -heart and feel oh so lonely when I want all help and courage that may -be" He paused a moment and went on solemnly, "Friend John, there are -strange and terrible days before us. Let us not be two, but one, that -so we work to a good end. Will you not have faith in me?" -I took his hand, and promised him. I held my door open as he went -away, and watched him go to his room and close the door. As I stood -without moving, I saw one of the maids pass silently along the -passage, she had her back to me, so did not see me, and go into the -room where Lucy lay. The sight touched me. Devotion is so rare, and -we are so grateful to those who show it unasked to those we love. Here -was a poor girl putting aside the terrors which she naturally had of -death to go watch alone by the bier of the mistress whom she loved, so -that the poor clay might not be lonely till laid to eternal rest. -I must have slept long and soundly, for it was broad daylight when Van -Helsing waked me by coming into my room. He came over to my bedside -and said, "You need not trouble about the knives. We shall not do -it." -"Why not?" I asked. For his solemnity of the night before had -greatly impressed me. -"Because," he said sternly, "it is too late, or too early. See" -Here he held up the little golden crucifix. -"This was stolen in the night." -"How stolen," I asked in wonder, "since you have it now?" -"Because I get it back from the worthless wretch who stole it, from -the woman who robbed the dead and the living. Her punishment will -surely come, but not through me. She knew not altogether what she -did, and thus unknowing, she only stole. Now we must wait." He went -away on the word, leaving me with a new mystery to think of, a new -puzzle to grapple with. -The forenoon was a dreary time, but at noon the solicitor came, Mr. -Marquand, of Wholeman, Sons, Marquand Lidderdale. He was very -genial and very appreciative of what we had done, and took off our -hands all cares as to details. During lunch he told us that Mrs. -Westenra had for some time expected sudden death from her heart, and -had put her affairs in absolute order. He informed us that, with the -exception of a certain entailed property of Lucy's father which now, -in default of direct issue, went back to a distant branch of the -family, the whole estate, real and personal, was left absolutely to -Arthur Holmwood. When he had told us so much he went on, -"Frankly we did our best to prevent such a testamentary disposition, -and pointed out certain contingencies that might leave her daughter -either penniless or not so free as she should be to act regarding a -matrimonial alliance. Indeed, we pressed the matter so far that we -almost came into collision, for she asked us if we were or were not -prepared to carry out her wishes. Of course, we had then no -alternative but to accept. We were right in principle, and -ninetynine times out of a hundred we should have proved, by the logic -of events, the accuracy of our judgment. -"Frankly, however, I must admit that in this case any other form of -disposition would have rendered impossible the carrying out of her -wishes. For by her predeceasing her daughter the latter would have -come into possession of the property, and, even had she only survived -her mother by five minutes, her property would, in case there were no -will, and a will was a practical impossibility in such a case, have -been treated at her decease as under intestacy. In which case Lord -Godalming, though so dear a friend, would have had no claim in the -world. And the inheritors, being remote, would not be likely to -abandon their just rights, for sentimental reasons regarding an entire -stranger. I assure you, my dear sirs, I am rejoiced at the result, -perfectly rejoiced." -He was a good fellow, but his rejoicing at the one little part, in -which he was officially interested, of so great a tragedy, was an -objectlesson in the limitations of sympathetic understanding. -He did not remain long, but said he would look in later in the day and -see Lord Godalming. His coming, however, had been a certain comfort -to us, since it assured us that we should not have to dread hostile -criticism as to any of our acts. Arthur was expected at five o'clock, -so a little before that time we visited the death chamber. It was so -in very truth, for now both mother and daughter lay in it. The -undertaker, true to his craft, had made the best display he could of -his goods, and there was a mortuary air about the place that lowered -our spirits at once. -Van Helsing ordered the former arrangement to be adhered to, -explaining that, as Lord Godalming was coming very soon, it would be -less harrowing to his feelings to see all that was left of his fiancee -quite alone. -The undertaker seemed shocked at his own stupidity and exerted himself -to restore things to the condition in which we left them the night -before, so that when Arthur came such shocks to his feelings as we -could avoid were saved. -Poor fellow He looked desperately sad and broken. Even his stalwart -manhood seemed to have shrunk somewhat under the strain of his -muchtried emotions. He had, I knew, been very genuinely and -devotedly attached to his father, and to lose him, and at such a time, -was a bitter blow to him. With me he was warm as ever, and to Van -Helsing he was sweetly courteous. But I could not help seeing that -there was some constraint with him. The professor noticed it too, and -motioned me to bring him upstairs. I did so, and left him at the door -of the room, as I felt he would like to be quite alone with her, but -he took my arm and led me in, saying huskily, -"You loved her too, old fellow. She told me all about it, and there -was no friend had a closer place in her heart than you. I don't know -how to thank you for all you have done for her. I can't think -yet . . ." -Here he suddenly broke down, and threw his arms round my shoulders and -laid his head on my breast, crying, "Oh, Jack Jack What shall I -do? The whole of life seems gone from me all at once, and there is -nothing in the wide world for me to live for." -I comforted him as well as I could. In such cases men do not need -much expression. A grip of the hand, the tightening of an arm over -the shoulder, a sob in unison, are expressions of sympathy dear to a -man's heart. I stood still and silent till his sobs died away, and -then I said softly to him, "Come and look at her." -Together we moved over to the bed, and I lifted the lawn from her -face. God How beautiful she was. Every hour seemed to be enhancing -her loveliness. It frightened and amazed me somewhat. And as for -Arthur, he fell to trembling, and finally was shaken with doubt as -with an ague. At last, after a long pause, he said to me in a faint -whisper, "Jack, is she really dead?" -I assured him sadly that it was so, and went on to suggest, for I felt -that such a horrible doubt should not have life for a moment longer -than I could help, that it often happened that after death faces -become softened and even resolved into their youthful beauty, that -this was especially so when death had been preceded by any acute or -prolonged suffering. I seemed to quite do away with any doubt, and -after kneeling beside the couch for a while and looking at her -lovingly and long, he turned aside. I told him that that must be -goodbye, as the coffin had to be prepared, so he went back and took -her dead hand in his and kissed it, and bent over and kissed her -forehead. He came away, fondly looking back over his shoulder at her -as he came. -I left him in the drawing room, and told Van Helsing that he had said -goodbye, so the latter went to the kitchen to tell the undertaker's -men to proceed with the preparations and to screw up the coffin. When -he came out of the room again I told him of Arthur's question, and he -replied, "I am not surprised. Just now I doubted for a moment -myself" -We all dined together, and I could see that poor Art was trying to -make the best of things. Van Helsing had been silent all dinner time, -but when we had lit our cigars he said, "Lord . . ." but Arthur -interrupted him. -"No, no, not that, for God's sake Not yet at any rate. Forgive me, -sir. I did not mean to speak offensively. It is only because my loss -is so recent." -The Professor answered very sweetly, "I only used that name because I -was in doubt. I must not call you 'Mr.' and I have grown to love you, -yes, my dear boy, to love you, as Arthur." -Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man's warmly. "Call me -what you will," he said. "I hope I may always have the title of a -friend. And let me say that I am at a loss for words to thank you for -your goodness to my poor dear." He paused a moment, and went on, "I -know that she understood your goodness even better than I do. And if -I was rude or in any way wanting at that time you acted so, you -remember"the Professor nodded"you must forgive me." -He answered with a grave kindness, "I know it was hard for you to -quite trust me then, for to trust such violence needs to understand, -and I take it that you do not, that you cannot, trust me now, for you -do not yet understand. And there may be more times when I shall want -you to trust when you cannot, and may not, and must not yet -understand. But the time will come when your trust shall be whole and -complete in me, and when you shall understand as though the sunlight -himself shone through. Then you shall bless me from first to last for -your own sake, and for the sake of others, and for her dear sake to -whom I swore to protect." -"And indeed, indeed, sir," said Arthur warmly. "I shall in all ways -trust you. I know and believe you have a very noble heart, and you -are Jack's friend, and you were hers. You shall do what you like." -The Professor cleared his throat a couple of times, as though about to -speak, and finally said, "May I ask you something now?" -"Certainly." -"You know that Mrs. Westenra left you all her property?" -"No, poor dear. I never thought of it." -"And as it is all yours, you have a right to deal with it as you will. -I want you to give me permission to read all Miss Lucy's papers and -letters. Believe me, it is no idle curiosity. I have a motive of -which, be sure, she would have approved. I have them all here. I -took them before we knew that all was yours, so that no strange hand -might touch them, no strange eye look through words into her soul. I -shall keep them, if I may. Even you may not see them yet, but I shall -keep them safe. No word shall be lost, and in the good time I shall -give them back to you. It is a hard thing that I ask, but you will do -it, will you not, for Lucy's sake?" -Arthur spoke out heartily, like his old self, "Dr. Van Helsing, you -may do what you will. I feel that in saying this I am doing what my -dear one would have approved. I shall not trouble you with questions -till the time comes." -The old Professor stood up as he said solemnly, "And you are right. -There will be pain for us all, but it will not be all pain, nor will -this pain be the last. We and you too, you most of all, dear boy, -will have to pass through the bitter water before we reach the sweet. -But we must be brave of heart and unselfish, and do our duty, and all -will be well" -I slept on a sofa in Arthur's room that night. Van Helsing did not go -to bed at all. He went to and fro, as if patroling the house, and was -never out of sight of the room where Lucy lay in her coffin, strewn -with the wild garlic flowers, which sent through the odour of lily and -rose, a heavy, overpowering smell into the night. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.In the train to Exeter. Jonathan sleeping. It seems -only yesterday that the last entry was made, and yet how much between -then, in Whitby and all the world before me, Jonathan away and no news -of him, and now, married to Jonathan, Jonathan a solicitor, a partner, -rich, master of his business, Mr. Hawkins dead and buried, and -Jonathan with another attack that may harm him. Some day he may ask -me about it. Down it all goes. I am rusty in my shorthand, see what -unexpected prosperity does for us, so it may be as well to freshen it -up again with an exercise anyhow. -The service was very simple and very solemn. There were only -ourselves and the servants there, one or two old friends of his from -Exeter, his London agent, and a gentleman representing Sir John -Paxton, the President of the Incorporated Law Society. Jonathan and I -stood hand in hand, and we felt that our best and dearest friend was -gone from us. -We came back to town quietly, taking a bus to Hyde Park Corner. -Jonathan thought it would interest me to go into the Row for a while, -so we sat down. But there were very few people there, and it was -sadlooking and desolate to see so many empty chairs. It made us -think of the empty chair at home. So we got up and walked down -Piccadilly. Jonathan was holding me by the arm, the way he used to in -the old days before I went to school. I felt it very improper, for -you can't go on for some years teaching etiquette and decorum to other -girls without the pedantry of it biting into yourself a bit. But it -was Jonathan, and he was my husband, and we didn't know anybody who -saw us, and we didn't care if they did, so on we walked. I was -looking at a very beautiful girl, in a big cartwheel hat, sitting in -a victoria outside Guiliano's, when I felt Jonathan clutch my arm so -tight that he hurt me, and he said under his breath, "My God" -I am always anxious about Jonathan, for I fear that some nervous fit -may upset him again. So I turned to him quickly, and asked him what -it was that disturbed him. -He was very pale, and his eyes seemed bulging out as, half in terror -and half in amazement, he gazed at a tall, thin man, with a beaky nose -and black moustache and pointed beard, who was also observing the -pretty girl. He was looking at her so hard that he did not see either -of us, and so I had a good view of him. His face was not a good -face. It was hard, and cruel, and sensual, and big white teeth, that -looked all the whiter because his lips were so red, were pointed like -an animal's. Jonathan kept staring at him, till I was afraid he would -notice. I feared he might take it ill, he looked so fierce and nasty. -I asked Jonathan why he was disturbed, and he answered, evidently -thinking that I knew as much about it as he did, "Do you see who it -is?" -"No, dear," I said. "I don't know him, who is it?" His answer seemed -to shock and thrill me, for it was said as if he did not know that it -was me, Mina, to whom he was speaking. "It is the man himself" -The poor dear was evidently terrified at something, very greatly -terrified. I do believe that if he had not had me to lean on and to -support him he would have sunk down. He kept staring. A man came out -of the shop with a small parcel, and gave it to the lady, who then -drove off. The dark man kept his eyes fixed on her, and when the -carriage moved up Piccadilly he followed in the same direction, and -hailed a hansom. Jonathan kept looking after him, and said, as if to -himself, -"I believe it is the Count, but he has grown young. My God, if this -be so Oh, my God My God If only I knew If only I knew" He was -distressing himself so much that I feared to keep his mind on the -subject by asking him any questions, so I remained silent. I drew -away quietly, and he, holding my arm, came easily. We walked a little -further, and then went in and sat for a while in the Green Park. It -was a hot day for autumn, and there was a comfortable seat in a shady -place. After a few minutes' staring at nothing, Jonathan's eyes -closed, and he went quickly into a sleep, with his head on my -shoulder. I thought it was the best thing for him, so did not disturb -him. In about twenty minutes he woke up, and said to me quite -cheerfully, -"Why, Mina, have I been asleep Oh, do forgive me for being so rude. -Come, and we'll have a cup of tea somewhere." -He had evidently forgotten all about the dark stranger, as in his -illness he had forgotten all that this episode had reminded him of. I -don't like this lapsing into forgetfulness. It may make or continue -some injury to the brain. I must not ask him, for fear I shall do -more harm than good, but I must somehow learn the facts of his journey -abroad. The time is come, I fear, when I must open the parcel, and -know what is written. Oh, Jonathan, you will, I know, forgive me if I -do wrong, but it is for your own dear sake. -Later.A sad homecoming in every way, the house empty of the dear -soul who was so good to us. Jonathan still pale and dizzy under a -slight relapse of his malady, and now a telegram from Van Helsing, -whoever he may be. "You will be grieved to hear that Mrs. Westenra -died five days ago, and that Lucy died the day before yesterday. They -were both buried today." -Oh, what a wealth of sorrow in a few words Poor Mrs. Westenra Poor -Lucy Gone, gone, never to return to us And poor, poor Arthur, to -have lost such a sweetness out of his life God help us all to bear -our troubles. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARYCONT. - September.It is all over. Arthur has gone back to Ring, and has -taken Quincey Morris with him. What a fine fellow is Quincey I -believe in my heart of hearts that he suffered as much about Lucy's -death as any of us, but he bore himself through it like a moral -Viking. If America can go on breeding men like that, she will be a -power in the world indeed. Van Helsing is lying down, having a rest -preparatory to his journey. He goes to Amsterdam tonight, but says he -returns tomorrow night, that he only wants to make some arrangements -which can only be made personally. He is to stop with me then, if he -can. He says he has work to do in London which may take him some -time. Poor old fellow I fear that the strain of the past week has -broken down even his iron strength. All the time of the burial he -was, I could see, putting some terrible restraint on himself. When it -was all over, we were standing beside Arthur, who, poor fellow, was -speaking of his part in the operation where his blood had been -transfused to his Lucy's veins. I could see Van Helsing's face grow -white and purple by turns. Arthur was saying that he felt since then -as if they two had been really married, and that she was his wife in -the sight of God. None of us said a word of the other operations, and -none of us ever shall. Arthur and Quincey went away together to the -station, and Van Helsing and I came on here. The moment we were alone -in the carriage he gave way to a regular fit of hysterics. He has -denied to me since that it was hysterics, and insisted that it was -only his sense of humor asserting itself under very terrible -conditions. He laughed till he cried, and I had to draw down the -blinds lest any one should see us and misjudge. And then he cried, -till he laughed again, and laughed and cried together, just as a woman -does. I tried to be stern with him, as one is to a woman under the -circumstances, but it had no effect. Men and women are so different -in manifestations of nervous strength or weakness Then when his face -grew grave and stern again I asked him why his mirth, and why at such -a time. His reply was in a way characteristic of him, for it was -logical and forceful and mysterious. He said, -"Ah, you don't comprehend, friend John. Do not think that I am not -sad, though I laugh. See, I have cried even when the laugh did choke -me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh -he come just the same. Keep it always with you that laughter who -knock at your door and say, 'May I come in?' is not true laughter. -No He is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no -person, he choose no time of suitability. He say, 'I am here.' -Behold, in example I grieve my heart out for that so sweet young -girl. I give my blood for her, though I am old and worn. I give my -time, my skill, my sleep. I let my other sufferers want that she may -have all. And yet I can laugh at her very grave, laugh when the clay -from the spade of the sexton drop upon her coffin and say 'Thud, -thud' to my heart, till it send back the blood from my cheek. My -heart bleed for that poor boy, that dear boy, so of the age of mine -own boy had I been so blessed that he live, and with his hair and eyes -the same. -"There, you know now why I love him so. And yet when he say things -that touch my husbandheart to the quick, and make my fatherheart -yearn to him as to no other man, not even you, friend John, for we are -more level in experiences than father and son, yet even at such a -moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and bellow in my ear, 'Here I -am Here I am' till the blood come dance back and bring some of the -sunshine that he carry with him to my cheek. Oh, friend John, it is a -strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and -troubles. And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the -tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and dry bones of the churchyard, and -tears that burn as they fall, all dance together to the music that he -make with that smileless mouth of him. And believe me, friend John, -that he is good to come, and kind. Ah, we men and women are like -ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us different ways. Then tears -come, and like the rain on the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps -the strain become too great, and we break. But King Laugh he come -like the sunshine, and he ease off the strain again, and we bear to go -on with our labor, what it may be." -I did not like to wound him by pretending not to see his idea, but as -I did not yet understand the cause of his laughter, I asked him. As -he answered me his face grew stern, and he said in quite a different -tone, -"Oh, it was the grim irony of it all, this so lovely lady garlanded -with flowers, that looked so fair as life, till one by one we wondered -if she were truly dead, she laid in that so fine marble house in that -lonely churchyard, where rest so many of her kin, laid there with the -mother who loved her, and whom she loved, and that sacred bell going -'Toll Toll Toll' so sad and slow, and those holy men, with the -white garments of the angel, pretending to read books, and yet all the -time their eyes never on the page, and all of us with the bowed head. -And all for what? She is dead, so Is it not?" -"Well, for the life of me, Professor," I said, "I can't see anything -to laugh at in all that. Why, your expression makes it a harder -puzzle than before. But even if the burial service was comic, what -about poor Art and his trouble? Why his heart was simply breaking." -"Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to her veins -had made her truly his bride?" -"Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him." -"Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so that, then -what about the others? Ho, ho Then this so sweet maid is a -polyandrist, and me, with my poor wife dead to me, but alive by -Church's law, though no wits, all gone, even I, who am faithful -husband to this nownowife, am bigamist." -"I don't see where the joke comes in there either" I said, and I did -not feel particularly pleased with him for saying such things. He -laid his hand on my arm, and said, -"Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not my feeling to others -when it would wound, but only to you, my old friend, whom I can trust. -If you could have looked into my heart then when I want to laugh, if -you could have done so when the laugh arrived, if you could do so now, -when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and all that is to him, for he -go far, far away from me, and for a long, long time, maybe you would -perhaps pity me the most of all." -I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and asked why. -"Because I know" -And now we are all scattered, and for many a long day loneliness will -sit over our roofs with brooding wings. Lucy lies in the tomb of her -kin, a lordly death house in a lonely churchyard, away from teeming -London, where the air is fresh, and the sun rises over Hampstead Hill, -and where wild flowers grow of their own accord. -So I can finish this diary, and God only knows if I shall ever begin -another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it will be to deal -with different people and different themes, for here at the end, where -the romance of my life is told, ere I go back to take up the thread of -my lifework, I say sadly and without hope, "FINIS". -THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, SEPTEMBER A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY -The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised -with a series of events which seem to run on lines parallel -to those of what was known to the writers of headlines as -"The Kensington Horror," or "The Stabbing Woman," or "The -Woman in Black." During the past two or three days several -cases have occurred of young children straying from home or -neglecting to return from their playing on the Heath. In -all these cases the children were too young to give any -properly intelligible account of themselves, but the -consensus of their excuses is that they had been with a -"bloofer lady." It has always been late in the evening when -they have been missed, and on two occasions the children -have not been found until early in the following morning. -It is generally supposed in the neighborhood that, as the -first child missed gave as his reason for being away that a -"bloofer lady" had asked him to come for a walk, the others -had picked up the phrase and used it as occasion served. This -is the more natural as the favourite game of the little ones -at present is luring each other away by wiles. A correspondent -writes us that to see some of the tiny tots pretending to be the -"bloofer lady" is supremely funny. Some of our caricaturists -might, he says, take a lesson in the irony of grotesque by -comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in accordance -with general principles of human nature that the "bloofer lady" -should be the popular role at these al fresco performances. Our -correspondent naively says that even Ellen Terry could not be so -winningly attractive as some of these grubbyfaced little -children pretend, and even imagine themselves, to be. -There is, however, possibly a serious side to the question, -for some of the children, indeed all who have been missed -at night, have been slightly torn or wounded in the throat. -The wounds seem such as might be made by a rat or a small -dog, and although of not much importance individually, would tend -to show that whatever animal inflicts them has a system or method -of its own. The police of the division have been instructed to -keep a sharp lookout for straying children, especially when very -young, in and around Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog which -may be about. -THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, SEPTEMBER EXTRA SPECIAL -THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR -ANOTHER CHILD INJURED -THE "BLOOFER LADY" -We have just received intelligence that another child, -missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning -under a furze bush at the Shooter's Hill side of Hampstead -Heath, which is perhaps, less frequented than the other -parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat as has -been noticed in other cases. It was terribly weak, and -looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially restored, -had the common story to tell of being lured away by the -"bloofer lady". -CHAPTER -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.Jonathan is better after a bad night. I am so glad -that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps his mind off the -terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that he is not now weighed down -with the responsibility of his new position. I knew he would be true -to himself, and now how proud I am to see my Jonathan rising to the -height of his advancement and keeping pace in all ways with the duties -that come upon him. He will be away all day till late, for he said he -could not lunch at home. My household work is done, so I shall take -his foreign journal, and lock myself up in my room and read it. - September.I hadn't the heart to write last night, that terrible -record of Jonathan's upset me so. Poor dear How he must have -suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if there -is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and then write -all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it all? I suppose -I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject to him. And yet -that man we saw yesterday He seemed quite certain of him, poor -fellow I suppose it was the funeral upset him and sent his mind back -on some train of thought. -He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding day he said -"Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, -asleep or awake, mad or sane . . ." There seems to be through it all -some thread of continuity. That fearful Count was coming to London. -If it should be, and he came to London, with its teeming millions . . . -There may be a solemn duty, and if it come we must not shrink from -it. I shall be prepared. I shall get my typewriter this very hour -and begin transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if -required. And if it be wanted, then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor -Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him and never let him -be troubled or worried with it at all. If ever Jonathan quite gets -over the nervousness he may want to tell me of it all, and I can ask -him questions and find out things, and see how I may comfort him. -LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER - September -Confidence -"Dear Madam, -"I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far -friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy -Westenra's death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming, I am -empowered to read her letters and papers, for I am deeply -concerned about certain matters vitally important. In them -I find some letters from you, which show how great friends -you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam Mina, by that -love, I implore you, help me. It is for others' good that -I ask, to redress great wrong, and to lift much and terrible -troubles, that may be more great than you can know. May it be -that I see you? You can trust me. I am friend of Dr. John -Seward and of Lord Godalming that was Arthur of Miss Lucy. I -must keep it private for the present from all. I should come to -Exeter to see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, -and where and when. I implore your pardon, Madam. I have read -your letters to poor Lucy, and know how good you are and how your -husband suffer. So I pray you, if it may be, enlighten him not, -least it may harm. Again your pardon, and forgive me. -"VAN HELSING" -TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING - September.Come today by quarter past ten train if you -can catch it. Can see you any time you call. -"WILHELMINA HARKER" -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.I cannot help feeling terribly excited as the time -draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing, for somehow I expect that -it will throw some light upon Jonathan's sad experience, and as he -attended poor dear Lucy in her last illness, he can tell me all about -her. That is the reason of his coming. It is concerning Lucy and her -sleepwalking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall never know the -real truth now How silly I am. That awful journal gets hold of my -imagination and tinges everything with something of its own colour. Of -course it is about Lucy. That habit came back to the poor dear, and -that awful night on the cliff must have made her ill. I had almost -forgotten in my own affairs how ill she was afterwards. She must have -told him of her sleepwalking adventure on the cliff, and that I knew -all about it, and now he wants me to tell him what I know, so that he -may understand. I hope I did right in not saying anything of it to -Mrs. Westenra. I should never forgive myself if any act of mine, were -it even a negative one, brought harm on poor dear Lucy. I hope too, -Dr. Van Helsing will not blame me. I have had so much trouble and -anxiety of late that I feel I cannot bear more just at present. -I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the air as other -rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal yesterday that upset -me, and then Jonathan went away this morning to stay away from me a -whole day and night, the first time we have been parted since our -marriage. I do hope the dear fellow will take care of himself, and -that nothing will occur to upset him. It is two o'clock, and the -doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing of Jonathan's -journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have typewritten out my own -journal, so that, in case he asks about Lucy, I can hand it to him. -It will save much questioning. -Later.He has come and gone. Oh, what a strange meeting, and how it -all makes my head whirl round. I feel like one in a dream. Can it be -all possible, or even a part of it? If I had not read Jonathan's -journal first, I should never have accepted even a possibility. Poor, -poor, dear Jonathan How he must have suffered. Please the good God, -all this may not upset him again. I shall try to save him from it. -But it may be even a consolation and a help to him, terrible though it -be and awful in its consequences, to know for certain that his eyes -and ears and brain did not deceive him, and that it is all true. It -may be that it is the doubt which haunts him, that when the doubt is -removed, no matter which, waking or dreaming, may prove the truth, he -will be more satisfied and better able to bear the shock. Dr. Van -Helsing must be a good man as well as a clever one if he is Arthur's -friend and Dr. Seward's, and if they brought him all the way from -Holland to look after Lucy. I feel from having seen him that he is -good and kind and of a noble nature. When he comes tomorrow I shall -ask him about Jonathan. And then, please God, all this sorrow and -anxiety may lead to a good end. I used to think I would like to -practice interviewing. Jonathan's friend on "The Exeter News" told -him that memory is everything in such work, that you must be able to -put down exactly almost every word spoken, even if you had to refine -some of it afterwards. Here was a rare interview. I shall try to -record it verbatim. -It was halfpast two o'clock when the knock came. I took my courage a -deux mains and waited. In a few minutes Mary opened the door, and -announced "Dr. Van Helsing". -I rose and bowed, and he came towards me, a man of medium weight, -strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest -and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on the neck. The -poise of the head strikes me at once as indicative of thought and -power. The head is noble, wellsized, broad, and large behind the -ears. The face, cleanshaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large -resolute, mobile mouth, a goodsized nose, rather straight, but with -quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows -come down and the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad and fine, -rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps -or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot -possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the sides. -Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart, and are quick and tender or -stern with the man's moods. He said to me, -"Mrs. Harker, is it not?" I bowed assent. -"That was Miss Mina Murray?" Again I assented. -"It is Mina Murray that I came to see that was friend of that poor dear -child Lucy Westenra. Madam Mina, it is on account of the dead that I -come." -"Sir," I said, "you could have no better claim on me than that you -were a friend and helper of Lucy Westenra." And I held out my hand. -He took it and said tenderly, -"Oh, Madam Mina, I know that the friend of that poor little girl must -be good, but I had yet to learn . . ." He finished his speech with a -courtly bow. I asked him what it was that he wanted to see me about, -so he at once began. -"I have read your letters to Miss Lucy. Forgive me, but I had to -begin to inquire somewhere, and there was none to ask. I know that -you were with her at Whitby. She sometimes kept a diary, you need not -look surprised, Madam Mina. It was begun after you had left, and was -an imitation of you, and in that diary she traces by inference certain -things to a sleepwalking in which she puts down that you saved her. -In great perplexity then I come to you, and ask you out of your so -much kindness to tell me all of it that you can remember." -"I can tell you, I think, Dr. Van Helsing, all about it." -"Ah, then you have good memory for facts, for details? It is not -always so with young ladies." -"No, doctor, but I wrote it all down at the time. I can show it to -you if you like." -"Oh, Madam Mina, I well be grateful. You will do me much favour." -I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose -it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our -mouths, so I handed him the shorthand diary. He took it with a -grateful bow, and said, "May I read it?" -"If you wish," I answered as demurely as I could. He opened it, and -for an instant his face fell. Then he stood up and bowed. -"Oh, you so clever woman" he said. "I knew long that Mr. Jonathan -was a man of much thankfulness, but see, his wife have all the good -things. And will you not so much honour me and so help me as to read -it for me? Alas I know not the shorthand." -By this time my little joke was over, and I was almost ashamed. So I -took the typewritten copy from my work basket and handed it to him. -"Forgive me," I said. "I could not help it, but I had been thinking -that it was of dear Lucy that you wished to ask, and so that you might -not have time to wait, not on my account, but because I know your time -must be precious, I have written it out on the typewriter for you." -He took it and his eyes glistened. "You are so good," he said. "And -may I read it now? I may want to ask you some things when I have -read." -"By all means," I said, "read it over whilst I order lunch, and then -you can ask me questions whilst we eat." -He bowed and settled himself in a chair with his back to the light, -and became so absorbed in the papers, whilst I went to see after lunch -chiefly in order that he might not be disturbed. When I came back, I -found him walking hurriedly up and down the room, his face all ablaze -with excitement. He rushed up to me and took me by both hands. -"Oh, Madam Mina," he said, "how can I say what I owe to you? This -paper is as sunshine. It opens the gate to me. I am dazed, I am -dazzled, with so much light, and yet clouds roll in behind the light -every time. But that you do not, cannot comprehend. Oh, but I am -grateful to you, you so clever woman. Madame," he said this very -solemnly, "if ever Abraham Van Helsing can do anything for you or -yours, I trust you will let me know. It will be pleasure and delight -if I may serve you as a friend, as a friend, but all I have ever -learned, all I can ever do, shall be for you and those you love. There -are darknesses in life, and there are lights. You are one of the -lights. You will have a happy life and a good life, and your husband -will be blessed in you." -"But, doctor, you praise me too much, and you do not know me." -"Not know you, I, who am old, and who have studied all my life men and -women, I who have made my specialty the brain and all that belongs to -him and all that follow from him And I have read your diary that you -have so goodly written for me, and which breathes out truth in every -line. I, who have read your so sweet letter to poor Lucy of your -marriage and your trust, not know you Oh, Madam Mina, good women -tell all their lives, and by day and by hour and by minute, such -things that angels can read. And we men who wish to know have in us -something of angels' eyes. Your husband is noble nature, and you are -noble too, for you trust, and trust cannot be where there is mean -nature. And your husband, tell me of him. Is he quite well? Is all -that fever gone, and is he strong and hearty?" -I saw here an opening to ask him about Jonathan, so I said, "He was -almost recovered, but he has been greatly upset by Mr. Hawkins death." -He interrupted, "Oh, yes. I know. I know. I have read your last two -letters." -I went on, "I suppose this upset him, for when we were in town on -Thursday last he had a sort of shock." -"A shock, and after brain fever so soon That is not good. What kind -of shock was it?" -"He thought he saw some one who recalled something terrible, something -which led to his brain fever." And here the whole thing seemed to -overwhelm me in a rush. The pity for Jonathan, the horror which he -experienced, the whole fearful mystery of his diary, and the fear that -has been brooding over me ever since, all came in a tumult. I suppose -I was hysterical, for I threw myself on my knees and held up my hands -to him, and implored him to make my husband well again. He took my -hands and raised me up, and made me sit on the sofa, and sat by me. He -held my hand in his, and said to me with, oh, such infinite sweetness, -"My life is a barren and lonely one, and so full of work that I have -not had much time for friendships, but since I have been summoned to -here by my friend John Seward I have known so many good people and -seen such nobility that I feel more than ever, and it has grown with -my advancing years, the loneliness of my life. Believe me, then, that -I come here full of respect for you, and you have given me hope, hope, -not in what I am seeking of, but that there are good women still left -to make life happy, good women, whose lives and whose truths may make -good lesson for the children that are to be. I am glad, glad, that I -may here be of some use to you. For if your husband suffer, he suffer -within the range of my study and experience. I promise you that I -will gladly do all for him that I can, all to make his life strong and -manly, and your life a happy one. Now you must eat. You are -overwrought and perhaps overanxious. Husband Jonathan would not like -to see you so pale, and what he like not where he love, is not to his -good. Therefore for his sake you must eat and smile. You have told -me about Lucy, and so now we shall not speak of it, lest it distress. -I shall stay in Exeter tonight, for I want to think much over what you -have told me, and when I have thought I will ask you questions, if I -may. And then too, you will tell me of husband Jonathan's trouble so -far as you can, but not yet. You must eat now, afterwards you shall -tell me all." -After lunch, when we went back to the drawing room, he said to me, -"And now tell me all about him." -When it came to speaking to this great learned man, I began to fear -that he would think me a weak fool, and Jonathan a madman, that -journal is all so strange, and I hesitated to go on. But he was so -sweet and kind, and he had promised to help, and I trusted him, so I -said, -"Dr. Van Helsing, what I have to tell you is so queer that you must -not laugh at me or at my husband. I have been since yesterday in a -sort of fever of doubt. You must be kind to me, and not think me -foolish that I have even half believed some very strange things." -He reassured me by his manner as well as his words when he said, "Oh, -my dear, if you only know how strange is the matter regarding which I -am here, it is you who would laugh. I have learned not to think -little of any one's belief, no matter how strange it may be. I have -tried to keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary things of life -that could close it, but the strange things, the extraordinary things, -the things that make one doubt if they be mad or sane." -"Thank you, thank you a thousand times You have taken a weight off my -mind. If you will let me, I shall give you a paper to read. It is -long, but I have typewritten it out. It will tell you my trouble and -Jonathan's. It is the copy of his journal when abroad, and all that -happened. I dare not say anything of it. You will read for yourself -and judge. And then when I see you, perhaps, you will be very kind -and tell me what you think." -"I promise," he said as I gave him the papers. "I shall in the -morning, as soon as I can, come to see you and your husband, if I -may." -"Jonathan will be here at halfpast eleven, and you must come to lunch -with us and see him then. You could catch the quick train, which -will leave you at Paddington before eight." He was surprised at my -knowledge of the trains offhand, but he does not know that I have made -up all the trains to and from Exeter, so that I may help Jonathan in -case he is in a hurry. -So he took the papers with him and went away, and I sit here thinking, -thinking I don't know what. -LETTER by hand, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER - September, o'clock -"Dear Madam Mina, -"I have read your husband's so wonderful diary. You may -sleep without doubt. Strange and terrible as it is, it is -true I will pledge my life on it. It may be worse for -others, but for him and you there is no dread. He is a -noble fellow, and let me tell you from experience of men, -that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and -to that room, aye, and going a second time, is not one to -be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his -heart are all right, this I swear, before I have even seen -him, so be at rest. I shall have much to ask him of other -things. I am blessed that today I come to see you, for I -have learn all at once so much that again I am dazzled, -dazzled more than ever, and I must think. -"Yours the most faithful, -"Abraham Van Helsing." -LETTER, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING - September, P.M. -"My dear Dr. Van Helsing, -"A thousand thanks for your kind letter, which has taken a -great weight off my mind. And yet, if it be true, what -terrible things there are in the world, and what an awful -thing if that man, that monster, be really in London I -fear to think. I have this moment, whilst writing, had a -wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by the tonight -from Launceston and will be here at , so that I shall have -no fear tonight. Will you, therefore, instead of lunching with -us, please come to breakfast at eight o'clock, if this be not too -early for you? You can get away, if you are in a hurry, by the - train, which will bring you to Paddington by . Do not -answer this, as I shall take it that, if I do not hear, you will -come to breakfast. -"Believe me, -"Your faithful and grateful friend, -"Mina Harker." -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.I thought never to write in this diary again, but the -time has come. When I got home last night Mina had supper ready, and -when we had supped she told me of Van Helsing's visit, and of her -having given him the two diaries copied out, and of how anxious she -has been about me. She showed me in the doctor's letter that all I -wrote down was true. It seems to have made a new man of me. It was -the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that knocked me over. -I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I -know, I am not afraid, even of the Count. He has succeeded after all, -then, in his design in getting to London, and it was he I saw. He has -got younger, and how? Van Helsing is the man to unmask him and hunt -him out, if he is anything like what Mina says. We sat late, and -talked it over. Mina is dressing, and I shall call at the hotel in a -few minutes and bring him over. -He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I came into the room where -he was, and introduced myself, he took me by the shoulder, and turned -my face round to the light, and said, after a sharp scrutiny, -"But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you had had a shock." -It was so funny to hear my wife called 'Madam Mina' by this kindly, -strongfaced old man. I smiled, and said, "I was ill, I have had a -shock, but you have cured me already." -"And how?" -"By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and then -everything took a hue of unreality, and I did not know what to trust, -even the evidence of my own senses. Not knowing what to trust, I did -not know what to do, and so had only to keep on working in what had -hitherto been the groove of my life. The groove ceased to avail me, -and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt -everything, even yourself. No, you don't, you couldn't with eyebrows -like yours." -He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said, "So You are a -physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour. I am with so much -pleasure coming to you to breakfast, and, oh, sir, you will pardon -praise from an old man, but you are blessed in your wife." -I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, so I simply -nodded and stood silent. -"She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men -and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that -its light can be here on earth. So true, so sweet, so noble, so -little an egoist, and that, let me tell you, is much in this age, so -sceptical and selfish. And you, sir . . . I have read all the letters -to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know you since -some days from the knowing of others, but I have seen your true self -since last night. You will give me your hand, will you not? And let -us be friends for all our lives." -We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made me -quite choky. -"And now," he said, "may I ask you for some more help? I have a great -task to do, and at the beginning it is to know. You can help me -here. Can you tell me what went before your going to Transylvania? -Later on I may ask more help, and of a different kind, but at first -this will do." -"Look here, Sir," I said, "does what you have to do concern the -Count?" -"It does," he said solemnly. -"Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go by the train, you -will not have time to read them, but I shall get the bundle of papers. -You can take them with you and read them in the train." -After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we were parting he -said, "Perhaps you will come to town if I send for you, and take Madam -Mina too." -"We shall both come when you will," I said. -I had got him the morning papers and the London papers of the previous -night, and while we were talking at the carriage window, waiting for -the train to start, he was turning them over. His eyes suddenly -seemed to catch something in one of them, "The Westminster Gazette", I -knew it by the colour, and he grew quite white. He read something -intently, groaning to himself, "Mein Gott Mein Gott So soon So -soon" I do not think he remembered me at the moment. Just then the -whistle blew, and the train moved off. This recalled him to himself, -and he leaned out of the window and waved his hand, calling out, "Love -to Madam Mina. I shall write so soon as ever I can." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Truly there is no such thing as finality. Not a week -since I said "Finis," and yet here I am starting fresh again, or -rather going on with the record. Until this afternoon I had no cause -to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to all intents, as -sane as he ever was. He was already well ahead with his fly business, -and he had just started in the spider line also, so he had not been of -any trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur, written on Sunday, and -from it I gather that he is bearing up wonderfully well. Quincey -Morris is with him, and that is much of a help, for he himself is a -bubbling well of good spirits. Quincey wrote me a line too, and from -him I hear that Arthur is beginning to recover something of his old -buoyancy, so as to them all my mind is at rest. As for myself, I was -settling down to my work with the enthusiasm which I used to have for -it, so that I might fairly have said that the wound which poor Lucy -left on me was becoming cicatrised. -Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is to be the end God -only knows. I have an idea that Van Helsing thinks he knows, too, but -he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity. He went to -Exeter yesterday, and stayed there all night. Today he came back, and -almost bounded into the room at about halfpast five o'clock, and -thrust last night's "Westminster Gazette" into my hand. -"What do you think of that?" he asked as he stood back and folded his -arms. -I looked over the paper, for I really did not know what he meant, but -he took it from me and pointed out a paragraph about children being -decoyed away at Hampstead. It did not convey much to me, until I -reached a passage where it described small puncture wounds on their -throats. An idea struck me, and I looked up. -"Well?" he said. -"It is like poor Lucy's." -"And what do you make of it?" -"Simply that there is some cause in common. Whatever it was that -injured her has injured them." I did not quite understand his answer. -"That is true indirectly, but not directly." -"How do you mean, Professor?" I asked. I was a little inclined to -take his seriousness lightly, for, after all, four days of rest and -freedom from burning, harrowing, anxiety does help to restore one's -spirits, but when I saw his face, it sobered me. Never, even in the -midst of our despair about poor Lucy, had he looked more stern. -"Tell me" I said. "I can hazard no opinion. I do not know what to -think, and I have no data on which to found a conjecture." -"Do you mean to tell me, friend John, that you have no suspicion as to -what poor Lucy died of, not after all the hints given, not only by -events, but by me?" -"Of nervous prostration following a great loss or waste of blood." -"And how was the blood lost or wasted?" I shook my head. -He stepped over and sat down beside me, and went on, "You are a clever -man, friend John. You reason well, and your wit is bold, but you are -too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and -that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do -you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and -yet which are, that some people see things that others cannot? But -there are things old and new which must not be contemplated by men's -eyes, because they know, or think they know, some things which other -men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants -to explain all, and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing -to explain. But yet we see around us every day the growth of new -beliefs, which think themselves new, and which are yet but the old, -which pretend to be young, like the fine ladies at the opera. I -suppose now you do not believe in corporeal transference. No? Nor in -materialization. No? Nor in astral bodies. No? Nor in the reading -of thought. No? Nor in hypnotism . . ." -"Yes," I said. "Charcot has proved that pretty well." -He smiled as he went on, "Then you are satisfied as to it. Yes? And -of course then you understand how it act, and can follow the mind of -the great Charcot, alas that he is no more, into the very soul of the -patient that he influence. No? Then, friend John, am I to take it -that you simply accept fact, and are satisfied to let from premise to -conclusion be a blank? No? Then tell me, for I am a student of the -brain, how you accept hypnotism and reject the thought reading. Let -me tell you, my friend, that there are things done today in electrical -science which would have been deemed unholy by the very man who -discovered electricity, who would themselves not so long before been -burned as wizards. There are always mysteries in life. Why was it -that Methuselah lived nine hundred years, and 'Old Parr' one hundred -and sixtynine, and yet that poor Lucy, with four men's blood in her -poor veins, could not live even one day? For, had she live one more -day, we could save her. Do you know all the mystery of life and -death? Do you know the altogether of comparative anatomy and can say -wherefore the qualities of brutes are in some men, and not in others? -Can you tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon, that one -great spider lived for centuries in the tower of the old Spanish -church and grew and grew, till, on descending, he could drink the oil -of all the church lamps? Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and -elsewhere, there are bats that come out at night and open the veins of -cattle and horses and suck dry their veins, how in some islands of the -Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day, and those -who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and that when the -sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot, flit down on them -and then, and then in the morning are found dead men, white as even -Miss Lucy was?" -"Good God, Professor" I said, starting up. "Do you mean to tell me -that Lucy was bitten by such a bat, and that such a thing is here in -London in the nineteenth century?" -He waved his hand for silence, and went on, "Can you tell me why the -tortoise lives more long than generations of men, why the elephant -goes on and on till he have sees dynasties, and why the parrot never -die only of bite of cat of dog or other complaint? Can you tell me -why men believe in all ages and places that there are men and women -who cannot die? We all know, because science has vouched for the -fact, that there have been toads shut up in rocks for thousands of -years, shut in one so small hole that only hold him since the youth of -the world. Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himself to -die and have been buried, and his grave sealed and corn sowed on it, -and the corn reaped and be cut and sown and reaped and cut again, and -then men come and take away the unbroken seal and that there lie the -Indian fakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst them as -before?" -Here I interrupted him. I was getting bewildered. He so crowded on -my mind his list of nature's eccentricities and possible -impossibilities that my imagination was getting fired. I had a dim -idea that he was teaching me some lesson, as long ago he used to do in -his study at Amsterdam. But he used them to tell me the thing, so -that I could have the object of thought in mind all the time. But now -I was without his help, yet I wanted to follow him, so I said, -"Professor, let me be your pet student again. Tell me the thesis, so -that I may apply your knowledge as you go on. At present I am going -in my mind from point to point as a madman, and not a sane one, -follows an idea. I feel like a novice lumbering through a bog in a -midst, jumping from one tussock to another in the mere blind effort to -move on without knowing where I am going." -"That is a good image," he said. "Well, I shall tell you. My thesis -is this, I want you to believe." -"To believe what?" -"To believe in things that you cannot. Let me illustrate. I heard -once of an American who so defined faith, 'that faculty which enables -us to believe things which we know to be untrue.' For one, I follow -that man. He meant that we shall have an open mind, and not let a -little bit of truth check the rush of the big truth, like a small rock -does a railway truck. We get the small truth first. Good We keep -him, and we value him, but all the same we must not let him think -himself all the truth in the universe." -"Then you want me not to let some previous conviction inure the -receptivity of my mind with regard to some strange matter. Do I read -your lesson aright?" -"Ah, you are my favourite pupil still. It is worth to teach you. Now -that you are willing to understand, you have taken the first step to -understand. You think then that those so small holes in the -children's throats were made by the same that made the holes in Miss -Lucy?" -"I suppose so." -He stood up and said solemnly, "Then you are wrong. Oh, would it were -so But alas No. It is worse, far, far worse." -"In God's name, Professor Van Helsing, what do you mean?" I cried. -He threw himself with a despairing gesture into a chair, and placed -his elbows on the table, covering his face with his hands as he spoke. -"They were made by Miss Lucy" -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARYcont. -For a while sheer anger mastered me. It was as if he had during her -life struck Lucy on the face. I smote the table hard and rose up as I -said to him, "Dr. Van Helsing, are you mad?" -He raised his head and looked at me, and somehow the tenderness of his -face calmed me at once. "Would I were" he said. "Madness were easy -to bear compared with truth like this. Oh, my friend, why, think -you, did I go so far round, why take so long to tell so simple a -thing? Was it because I hate you and have hated you all my life? Was -it because I wished to give you pain? Was it that I wanted, now so -late, revenge for that time when you saved my life, and from a fearful -death? Ah no" -"Forgive me," said I. -He went on, "My friend, it was because I wished to be gentle in the -breaking to you, for I know you have loved that so sweet lady. But -even yet I do not expect you to believe. It is so hard to accept at -once any abstract truth, that we may doubt such to be possible when we -have always believed the 'no' of it. It is more hard still to accept -so sad a concrete truth, and of such a one as Miss Lucy. Tonight I go -to prove it. Dare you come with me?" -This staggered me. A man does not like to prove such a truth, Byron -excepted from the category, jealousy. -"And prove the very truth he most abhorred." -He saw my hesitation, and spoke, "The logic is simple, no madman's -logic this time, jumping from tussock to tussock in a misty bog. If -it not be true, then proof will be relief. At worst it will not harm. -If it be true Ah, there is the dread. Yet every dread should help my -cause, for in it is some need of belief. Come, I tell you what I -propose. First, that we go off now and see that child in the -hospital. Dr. Vincent, of the North Hospital, where the papers say -the child is, is a friend of mine, and I think of yours since you were -in class at Amsterdam. He will let two scientists see his case, if he -will not let two friends. We shall tell him nothing, but only that we -wish to learn. And then . . ." -"And then?" -He took a key from his pocket and held it up. "And then we spend the -night, you and I, in the churchyard where Lucy lies. This is the key -that lock the tomb. I had it from the coffin man to give to Arthur." -My heart sank within me, for I felt that there was some fearful ordeal -before us. I could do nothing, however, so I plucked up what heart I -could and said that we had better hasten, as the afternoon was -passing. -We found the child awake. It had had a sleep and taken some food, and -altogether was going on well. Dr. Vincent took the bandage from its -throat, and showed us the punctures. There was no mistaking the -similarity to those which had been on Lucy's throat. They were -smaller, and the edges looked fresher, that was all. We asked Vincent -to what he attributed them, and he replied that it must have been a -bite of some animal, perhaps a rat, but for his own part, he was -inclined to think it was one of the bats which are so numerous on the -northern heights of London. "Out of so many harmless ones," he said, -"there may be some wild specimen from the South of a more malignant -species. Some sailor may have brought one home, and it managed to -escape, or even from the Zoological Gardens a young one may have got -loose, or one be bred there from a vampire. These things do occur, -you, know. Only ten days ago a wolf got out, and was, I believe, -traced up in this direction. For a week after, the children were -playing nothing but Red Riding Hood on the Heath and in every alley in -the place until this 'bloofer lady' scare came along, since then it -has been quite a gala time with them. Even this poor little mite, -when he woke up today, asked the nurse if he might go away. When she -asked him why he wanted to go, he said he wanted to play with the -'bloofer lady'." -"I hope," said Van Helsing, "that when you are sending the child home -you will caution its parents to keep strict watch over it. These -fancies to stray are most dangerous, and if the child were to remain -out another night, it would probably be fatal. But in any case I -suppose you will not let it away for some days?" -"Certainly not, not for a week at least, longer if the wound is not -healed." -Our visit to the hospital took more time than we had reckoned on, and -the sun had dipped before we came out. When Van Helsing saw how dark -it was, he said, -"There is not hurry. It is more late than I thought. Come, let us -seek somewhere that we may eat, and then we shall go on our way." -We dined at 'Jack Straw's Castle' along with a little crowd of -bicyclists and others who were genially noisy. About ten o'clock we -started from the inn. It was then very dark, and the scattered lamps -made the darkness greater when we were once outside their individual -radius. The Professor had evidently noted the road we were to go, for -he went on unhesitatingly, but, as for me, I was in quite a mixup as -to locality. As we went further, we met fewer and fewer people, till -at last we were somewhat surprised when we met even the patrol of -horse police going their usual suburban round. At last we reached the -wall of the churchyard, which we climbed over. With some little -difficulty, for it was very dark, and the whole place seemed so -strange to us, we found the Westenra tomb. The Professor took the -key, opened the creaky door, and standing back, politely, but quite -unconsciously, motioned me to precede him. There was a delicious -irony in the offer, in the courtliness of giving preference on such a -ghastly occasion. My companion followed me quickly, and cautiously -drew the door to, after carefully ascertaining that the lock was a -falling, and not a spring one. In the latter case we should have been -in a bad plight. Then he fumbled in his bag, and taking out a -matchbox and a piece of candle, proceeded to make a light. The tomb -in the daytime, and when wreathed with fresh flowers, had looked grim -and gruesome enough, but now, some days afterwards, when the flowers -hung lank and dead, their whites turning to rust and their greens to -browns, when the spider and the beetle had resumed their accustomed -dominance, when the timediscoloured stone, and dustencrusted mortar, -and rusty, dank iron, and tarnished brass, and clouded silverplating -gave back the feeble glimmer of a candle, the effect was more -miserable and sordid than could have been imagined. It conveyed -irresistibly the idea that life, animal life, was not the only thing -which could pass away. -Van Helsing went about his work systematically. Holding his candle so -that he could read the coffin plates, and so holding it that the sperm -dropped in white patches which congealed as they touched the metal, he -made assurance of Lucy's coffin. Another search in his bag, and he -took out a turnscrew. -"What are you going to do?" I asked. -"To open the coffin. You shall yet be convinced." -Straightway he began taking out the screws, and finally lifted off the -lid, showing the casing of lead beneath. The sight was almost too -much for me. It seemed to be as much an affront to the dead as it -would have been to have stripped off her clothing in her sleep whilst -living. I actually took hold of his hand to stop him. -He only said, "You shall see," and again fumbling in his bag took out -a tiny fret saw. Striking the turnscrew through the lead with a swift -downward stab, which made me wince, he made a small hole, which was, -however, big enough to admit the point of the saw. I had expected a -rush of gas from the weekold corpse. We doctors, who have had to -study our dangers, have to become accustomed to such things, and I -drew back towards the door. But the Professor never stopped for a -moment. He sawed down a couple of feet along one side of the lead -coffin, and then across, and down the other side. Taking the edge of -the loose flange, he bent it back towards the foot of the coffin, and -holding up the candle into the aperture, motioned to me to look. -I drew near and looked. The coffin was empty. It was certainly a -surprise to me, and gave me a considerable shock, but Van Helsing was -unmoved. He was now more sure than ever of his ground, and so -emboldened to proceed in his task. "Are you satisfied now, friend -John?" he asked. -I felt all the dogged argumentativeness of my nature awake within me as -I answered him, "I am satisfied that Lucy's body is not in that -coffin, but that only proves one thing." -"And what is that, friend John?" -"That it is not there." -"That is good logic," he said, "so far as it goes. But how do you, -how can you, account for it not being there?" -"Perhaps a bodysnatcher," I suggested. "Some of the undertaker's -people may have stolen it." I felt that I was speaking folly, and yet -it was the only real cause which I could suggest. -The Professor sighed. "Ah well" he said, "we must have more proof. -Come with me." -He put on the coffin lid again, gathered up all his things and placed -them in the bag, blew out the light, and placed the candle also in the -bag. We opened the door, and went out. Behind us he closed the door -and locked it. He handed me the key, saying, "Will you keep it? You -had better be assured." -I laughed, it was not a very cheerful laugh, I am bound to say, as I -motioned him to keep it. "A key is nothing," I said, "there are many -duplicates, and anyhow it is not difficult to pick a lock of this -kind." -He said nothing, but put the key in his pocket. Then he told me to -watch at one side of the churchyard whilst he would watch at the -other. -I took up my place behind a yew tree, and I saw his dark figure move -until the intervening headstones and trees hid it from my sight. -It was a lonely vigil. Just after I had taken my place I heard a -distant clock strike twelve, and in time came one and two. I was -chilled and unnerved, and angry with the Professor for taking me on -such an errand and with myself for coming. I was too cold and too -sleepy to be keenly observant, and not sleepy enough to betray my -trust, so altogether I had a dreary, miserable time. -Suddenly, as I turned round, I thought I saw something like a white -streak, moving between two dark yew trees at the side of the -churchyard farthest from the tomb. At the same time a dark mass moved -from the Professor's side of the ground, and hurriedly went towards -it. Then I too moved, but I had to go round headstones and railedoff -tombs, and I stumbled over graves. The sky was overcast, and -somewhere far off an early cock crew. A little ways off, beyond a -line of scattered juniper trees, which marked the pathway to the -church, a white dim figure flitted in the direction of the tomb. The -tomb itself was hidden by trees, and I could not see where the figure -had disappeared. I heard the rustle of actual movement where I had -first seen the white figure, and coming over, found the Professor -holding in his arms a tiny child. When he saw me he held it out to -me, and said, "Are you satisfied now?" -"No," I said, in a way that I felt was aggressive. -"Do you not see the child?" -"Yes, it is a child, but who brought it here? And is it wounded?" -"We shall see," said the Professor, and with one impulse we took our -way out of the churchyard, he carrying the sleeping child. -When we had got some little distance away, we went into a clump of -trees, and struck a match, and looked at the child's throat. It was -without a scratch or scar of any kind. -"Was I right?" I asked triumphantly. -"We were just in time," said the Professor thankfully. -We had now to decide what we were to do with the child, and so -consulted about it. If we were to take it to a police station we -should have to give some account of our movements during the night. -At least, we should have had to make some statement as to how we had -come to find the child. So finally we decided that we would take it -to the Heath, and when we heard a policeman coming, would leave it -where he could not fail to find it. We would then seek our way home -as quickly as we could. All fell out well. At the edge of Hampstead -Heath we heard a policeman's heavy tramp, and laying the child on the -pathway, we waited and watched until he saw it as he flashed his -lantern to and fro. We heard his exclamation of astonishment, and -then we went away silently. By good chance we got a cab near the -'Spainiards,' and drove to town. -I cannot sleep, so I make this entry. But I must try to get a few -hours' sleep, as Van Helsing is to call for me at noon. He insists -that I go with him on another expedition. - September.It was two o'clock before we found a suitable -opportunity for our attempt. The funeral held at noon was all -completed, and the last stragglers of the mourners had taken -themselves lazily away, when, looking carefully from behind a clump of -alder trees, we saw the sexton lock the gate after him. We knew that -we were safe till morning did we desire it, but the Professor told me -that we should not want more than an hour at most. Again I felt that -horrid sense of the reality of things, in which any effort of -imagination seemed out of place, and I realized distinctly the perils -of the law which we were incurring in our unhallowed work. Besides, I -felt it was all so useless. Outrageous as it was to open a leaden -coffin, to see if a woman dead nearly a week were really dead, it now -seemed the height of folly to open the tomb again, when we knew, from -the evidence of our own eyesight, that the coffin was empty. I -shrugged my shoulders, however, and rested silent, for Van Helsing had -a way of going on his own road, no matter who remonstrated. He took -the key, opened the vault, and again courteously motioned me to -precede. The place was not so gruesome as last night, but oh, how -unutterably mean looking when the sunshine streamed in. Van Helsing -walked over to Lucy's coffin, and I followed. He bent over and again -forced back the leaden flange, and a shock of surprise and dismay shot -through me. -There lay Lucy, seemingly just as we had seen her the night before her -funeral. She was, if possible, more radiantly beautiful than ever, -and I could not believe that she was dead. The lips were red, nay -redder than before, and on the cheeks was a delicate bloom. -"Is this a juggle?" I said to him. -"Are you convinced now?" said the Professor, in response, and as he -spoke he put over his hand, and in a way that made me shudder, pulled -back the dead lips and showed the white teeth. "See," he went on, -"they are even sharper than before. With this and this," and he -touched one of the canine teeth and that below it, "the little -children can be bitten. Are you of belief now, friend John?" -Once more argumentative hostility woke within me. I could not accept -such an overwhelming idea as he suggested. So, with an attempt to -argue of which I was even at the moment ashamed, I said, "She may have -been placed here since last night." -"Indeed? That is so, and by whom?" -"I do not know. Someone has done it." -"And yet she has been dead one week. Most peoples in that time would -not look so." -I had no answer for this, so was silent. Van Helsing did not seem to -notice my silence. At any rate, he showed neither chagrin nor -triumph. He was looking intently at the face of the dead woman, -raising the eyelids and looking at the eyes, and once more opening the -lips and examining the teeth. Then he turned to me and said, -"Here, there is one thing which is different from all recorded. Here -is some dual life that is not as the common. She was bitten by the -vampire when she was in a trance, sleepwalking, oh, you start. You -do not know that, friend John, but you shall know it later, and in -trance could he best come to take more blood. In trance she dies, and -in trance she is UnDead, too. So it is that she differ from all -other. Usually when the UnDead sleep at home," as he spoke he made a -comprehensive sweep of his arm to designate what to a vampire was -'home', "their face show what they are, but this so sweet that was -when she not UnDead she go back to the nothings of the common dead. -There is no malign there, see, and so it make hard that I must kill -her in her sleep." -This turned my blood cold, and it began to dawn upon me that I was -accepting Van Helsing's theories. But if she were really dead, what -was there of terror in the idea of killing her? -He looked up at me, and evidently saw the change in my face, for he -said almost joyously, "Ah, you believe now?" -I answered, "Do not press me too hard all at once. I am willing to -accept. How will you do this bloody work?" -"I shall cut off her head and fill her mouth with garlic, and I shall -drive a stake through her body." -It made me shudder to think of so mutilating the body of the woman -whom I had loved. And yet the feeling was not so strong as I had -expected. I was, in fact, beginning to shudder at the presence of -this being, this UnDead, as Van Helsing called it, and to loathe it. -Is it possible that love is all subjective, or all objective? -I waited a considerable time for Van Helsing to begin, but he stood as -if wrapped in thought. Presently he closed the catch of his bag with -a snap, and said, -"I have been thinking, and have made up my mind as to what is best. -If I did simply follow my inclining I would do now, at this moment, -what is to be done. But there are other things to follow, and things -that are thousand times more difficult in that them we do not know. -This is simple. She have yet no life taken, though that is of time, -and to act now would be to take danger from her forever. But then we -may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this? If you, -who saw the wounds on Lucy's throat, and saw the wounds so similar on -the child's at the hospital, if you, who saw the coffin empty last -night and full today with a woman who have not change only to be more -rose and more beautiful in a whole week, after she die, if you know of -this and know of the white figure last night that brought the child to -the churchyard, and yet of your own senses you did not believe, how -then, can I expect Arthur, who know none of those things, to believe? -"He doubted me when I took him from her kiss when she was dying. I -know he has forgiven me because in some mistaken idea I have done -things that prevent him say goodbye as he ought, and he may think that -in some more mistaken idea this woman was buried alive, and that in -most mistake of all we have killed her. He will then argue back that -it is we, mistaken ones, that have killed her by our ideas, and so he -will be much unhappy always. Yet he never can be sure, and that is -the worst of all. And he will sometimes think that she he loved was -buried alive, and that will paint his dreams with horrors of what she -must have suffered, and again, he will think that we may be right, and -that his so beloved was, after all, an UnDead. No I told him once, -and since then I learn much. Now, since I know it is all true, a -hundred thousand times more do I know that he must pass through the -bitter waters to reach the sweet. He, poor fellow, must have one hour -that will make the very face of heaven grow black to him, then we can -act for good all round and send him peace. My mind is made up. Let -us go. You return home for tonight to your asylum, and see that all -be well. As for me, I shall spend the night here in this churchyard -in my own way. Tomorrow night you will come to me to the Berkeley -Hotel at ten of the clock. I shall send for Arthur to come too, and -also that so fine young man of America that gave his blood. Later we -shall all have work to do. I come with you so far as Piccadilly and -there dine, for I must be back here before the sun set." -So we locked the tomb and came away, and got over the wall of the -churchyard, which was not much of a task, and drove back to -Piccadilly. -NOTE LEFT BY VAN HELSING IN HIS PORTMANTEAU, BERKELEY HOTEL DIRECTED TO -JOHN SEWARD, M. D. Not Delivered - September -"Friend John, -"I write this in case anything should happen. I go alone to -watch in that churchyard. It pleases me that the UnDead, -Miss Lucy, shall not leave tonight, that so on the morrow -night she may be more eager. Therefore I shall fix some -things she like not, garlic and a crucifix, and so seal up -the door of the tomb. She is young as UnDead, and will -heed. Moreover, these are only to prevent her coming out. -They may not prevail on her wanting to get in, for then the -UnDead is desperate, and must find the line of least resistance, -whatsoever it may be. I shall be at hand all the night from -sunset till after sunrise, and if there be aught that may be -learned I shall learn it. For Miss Lucy or from her, I have no -fear, but that other to whom is there that she is UnDead, he have -not the power to seek her tomb and find shelter. He is cunning, -as I know from Mr. Jonathan and from the way that all along he -have fooled us when he played with us for Miss Lucy's life, and -we lost, and in many ways the UnDead are strong. He have always -the strength in his hand of twenty men, even we four who gave our -strength to Miss Lucy it also is all to him. Besides, he can -summon his wolf and I know not what. So if it be that he came -thither on this night he shall find me. But none other shall, -until it be too late. But it may be that he will not attempt the -place. There is no reason why he should. His hunting ground is -more full of game than the churchyard where the UnDead woman -sleeps, and the one old man watch. -"Therefore I write this in case . . . Take the papers that -are with this, the diaries of Harker and the rest, and read -them, and then find this great UnDead, and cut off his head -and burn his heart or drive a stake through it, so that the -world may rest from him. -"If it be so, farewell. -"VAN HELSING." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.It is wonderful what a good night's sleep will do for -one. Yesterday I was almost willing to accept Van Helsing's monstrous -ideas, but now they seem to start out lurid before me as outrages on -common sense. I have no doubt that he believes it all. I wonder if -his mind can have become in any way unhinged. Surely there must be -some rational explanation of all these mysterious things. Is it -possible that the Professor can have done it himself? He is so -abnormally clever that if he went off his head he would carry out his -intent with regard to some fixed idea in a wonderful way. I am loathe -to think it, and indeed it would be almost as great a marvel as the -other to find that Van Helsing was mad, but anyhow I shall watch him -carefully. I may get some light on the mystery. - September.Last night, at a little before ten o'clock, Arthur and -Quincey came into Van Helsing's room. He told us all what he wanted -us to do, but especially addressing himself to Arthur, as if all our -wills were centred in his. He began by saying that he hoped we would -all come with him too, "for," he said, "there is a grave duty to be -done there. You were doubtless surprised at my letter?" This query -was directly addressed to Lord Godalming. -"I was. It rather upset me for a bit. There has been so much trouble -around my house of late that I could do without any more. I have been -curious, too, as to what you mean. -"Quincey and I talked it over, but the more we talked, the more -puzzled we got, till now I can say for myself that I'm about up a tree -as to any meaning about anything." -"Me too," said Quincey Morris laconically. -"Oh," said the Professor, "then you are nearer the beginning, both of -you, than friend John here, who has to go a long way back before he -can even get so far as to begin." -It was evident that he recognized my return to my old doubting frame -of mind without my saying a word. Then, turning to the other two, he -said with intense gravity, -"I want your permission to do what I think good this night. It is, I -know, much to ask, and when you know what it is I propose to do you -will know, and only then how much. Therefore may I ask that you -promise me in the dark, so that afterwards, though you may be angry -with me for a time, I must not disguise from myself the possibility -that such may be, you shall not blame yourselves for anything." -"That's frank anyhow," broke in Quincey. "I'll answer for the -Professor. I don't quite see his drift, but I swear he's honest, and -that's good enough for me." -"I thank you, Sir," said Van Helsing proudly. "I have done myself the -honour of counting you one trusting friend, and such endorsement is -dear to me." He held out a hand, which Quincey took. -Then Arthur spoke out, "Dr. Van Helsing, I don't quite like to 'buy a -pig in a poke', as they say in Scotland, and if it be anything in -which my honour as a gentleman or my faith as a Christian is -concerned, I cannot make such a promise. If you can assure me that -what you intend does not violate either of these two, then I give my -consent at once, though for the life of me, I cannot understand what -you are driving at." -"I accept your limitation," said Van Helsing, "and all I ask of you is -that if you feel it necessary to condemn any act of mine, you will -first consider it well and be satisfied that it does not violate your -reservations." -"Agreed" said Arthur. "That is only fair. And now that the -pourparlers are over, may I ask what it is we are to do?" -"I want you to come with me, and to come in secret, to the churchyard -at Kingstead." -Arthur's face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way, -"Where poor Lucy is buried?" -The Professor bowed. -Arthur went on, "And when there?" -"To enter the tomb" -Arthur stood up. "Professor, are you in earnest, or is it some -monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest." He sat -down again, but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one who -is on his dignity. There was silence until he asked again, "And when -in the tomb?" -"To open the coffin." -"This is too much" he said, angrily rising again. "I am willing to -be patient in all things that are reasonable, but in this, this -desecration of the grave, of one who . . ." He fairly choked with -indignation. -The Professor looked pityingly at him. "If I could spare you one pang, -my poor friend," he said, "God knows I would. But this night our feet -must tread in thorny paths, or later, and for ever, the feet you love -must walk in paths of flame" -Arthur looked up with set white face and said, "Take care, sir, take -care" -"Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?" said Van Helsing. -"And then you will at least know the limit of my purpose. Shall I go -on?" -"That's fair enough," broke in Morris. -After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an effort, "Miss -Lucy is dead, is it not so? Yes Then there can be no wrong to her. -But if she be not dead . . ." -Arthur jumped to his feet, "Good God" he cried. "What do you mean? -Has there been any mistake, has she been buried alive?" He groaned in -anguish that not even hope could soften. -"I did not say she was alive, my child. I did not think it. I go no -further than to say that she might be UnDead." -"UnDead Not alive What do you mean? Is this all a nightmare, or -what is it?" -"There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age -they may solve only in part. Believe me, we are now on the verge of -one. But I have not done. May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?" -"Heavens and earth, no" cried Arthur in a storm of passion. "Not for -the wide world will I consent to any mutilation of her dead body. Dr. -Van Helsing, you try me too far. What have I done to you that you -should torture me so? What did that poor, sweet girl do that you -should want to cast such dishonour on her grave? Are you mad, that you -speak of such things, or am I mad to listen to them? Don't dare think -more of such a desecration. I shall not give my consent to anything -you do. I have a duty to do in protecting her grave from outrage, and -by God, I shall do it" -Van Helsing rose up from where he had all the time been seated, and -said, gravely and sternly, "My Lord Godalming, I too, have a duty to -do, a duty to others, a duty to you, a duty to the dead, and by God, I -shall do it All I ask you now is that you come with me, that you -look and listen, and if when later I make the same request you do not -be more eager for its fulfillment even than I am, then, I shall do my -duty, whatever it may seem to me. And then, to follow your Lordship's -wishes I shall hold myself at your disposal to render an account to -you, when and where you will." His voice broke a little, and he went -on with a voice full of pity. -"But I beseech you, do not go forth in anger with me. In a long life -of acts which were often not pleasant to do, and which sometimes did -wring my heart, I have never had so heavy a task as now. Believe me -that if the time comes for you to change your mind towards me, one -look from you will wipe away all this so sad hour, for I would do what -a man can to save you from sorrow. Just think. For why should I give -myself so much labor and so much of sorrow? I have come here from my -own land to do what I can of good, at the first to please my friend -John, and then to help a sweet young lady, whom too, I come to love. -For her, I am ashamed to say so much, but I say it in kindness, I gave -what you gave, the blood of my veins. I gave it, I who was not, like -you, her lover, but only her physician and her friend. I gave her my -nights and days, before death, after death, and if my death can do her -good even now, when she is the dead UnDead, she shall have it freely." -He said this with a very grave, sweet pride, and Arthur was much -affected by it. -He took the old man's hand and said in a broken voice, "Oh, it is hard -to think of it, and I cannot understand, but at least I shall go with -you and wait." -CHAPTER -DR SEWARD'S DIARYcont. -It was just a quarter before twelve o'clock when we got into the -churchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional -gleams of moonlight between the dents of the heavy clouds that scudded -across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with Van Helsing -slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come close to the -tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared the proximity to a place -laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset him, but he bore himself -well. I took it that the very mystery of the proceeding was in some -way a counteractant to his grief. The Professor unlocked the door, -and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for various reasons, solved -the difficulty by entering first himself. The rest of us followed, -and he closed the door. He then lit a dark lantern and pointed to a -coffin. Arthur stepped forward hesitatingly. Van Helsing said to me, -"You were with me here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that -coffin?" -"It was." -The Professor turned to the rest saying, "You hear, and yet there is -no one who does not believe with me." -He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the coffin. -Arthur looked on, very pale but silent. When the lid was removed he -stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there was a leaden -coffin, or at any rate, had not thought of it. When he saw the rent -in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an instant, but as -quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastly whiteness. -He was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the leaden flange, and -we all looked in and recoiled. -The coffin was empty -For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken by -Quincey Morris, "Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all I -want. I wouldn't ask such a thing ordinarily, I wouldn't so dishonour -you as to imply a doubt, but this is a mystery that goes beyond any -honour or dishonour. Is this your doing?" -"I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not removed or -touched her. What happened was this. Two nights ago my friend Seward -and I came here, with good purpose, believe me. I opened that coffin, -which was then sealed up, and we found it as now, empty. We then -waited, and saw something white come through the trees. The next day -we came here in daytime and she lay there. Did she not, friend John? -"Yes." -"That night we were just in time. One more so small child was -missing, and we find it, thank God, unharmed amongst the graves. -Yesterday I came here before sundown, for at sundown the UnDead can -move. I waited here all night till the sun rose, but I saw nothing. -It was most probable that it was because I had laid over the clamps of -those doors garlic, which the UnDead cannot bear, and other things -which they shun. Last night there was no exodus, so tonight before -the sundown I took away my garlic and other things. And so it is we -find this coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is much that -is strange. Wait you with me outside, unseen and unheard, and things -much stranger are yet to be. So," here he shut the dark slide of his -lantern, "now to the outside." He opened the door, and we filed out, -he coming last and locking the door behind him. -Oh But it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the terror of -that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by, and the -passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds crossing -and passing, like the gladness and sorrow of a man's life. How sweet -it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of death and decay. -How humanizing to see the red lighting of the sky beyond the hill, and -to hear far away the muffled roar that marks the life of a great -city. Each in his own way was solemn and overcome. Arthur was -silent, and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose and the -inner meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerably patient, and -half inclined again to throw aside doubt and to accept Van Helsing's -conclusions. Quincey Morris was phlegmatic in the way of a man who -accepts all things, and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, -with hazard of all he has at stake. Not being able to smoke, he cut -himself a goodsized plug of tobacco and began to chew. As to Van -Helsing, he was employed in a definite way. First he took from his -bag a mass of what looked like thin, waferlike biscuit, which was -carefully rolled up in a white napkin. Next he took out a double -handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the -wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. This he -then took, and rolling it into thin strips, began to lay them into the -crevices between the door and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat -puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was -doing. Arthur and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious. -He answered, "I am closing the tomb so that the UnDead may not enter." -"And is that stuff you have there going to do it?" -"It is." -"What is that which you are using?" This time the question was by -Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answered. -"The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an Indulgence." -It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we felt -individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as the -Professor's, a purpose which could thus use the to him most sacred of -things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful silence we took -the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but hidden from the -sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others, especially Arthur. -I had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to this watching -horror, and yet I, who had up to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, -felt my heart sink within me. Never did tombs look so ghastly white. -Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of -funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. -Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the faraway -howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night. -There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then from -the Professor a keen "Ssss" He pointed, and far down the avenue of -yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held -something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a -ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed in -startling prominence a darkhaired woman, dressed in the cerements of -the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what -we saw to be a fairhaired child. There was a pause and a sharp -little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before -the fire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the Professor's -warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. -And then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again. It was -now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. -My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as -we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet -how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless -cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness. -Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all advanced -too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb. Van -Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide. By the concentrated -light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the lips were crimson -with fresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chin and -stained the purity of her lawn deathrobe. -We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light that -even Van Helsing's iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to me, and -if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen. -When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore -her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat -gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's eyes -in form and colour, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell fire, -instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant -of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to be killed, -I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked, her eyes -blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a -voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it With a -careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the -child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, -growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp -cry, and lay there moaning. There was a coldbloodedness in the act -which wrung a groan from Arthur. When she advanced to him with -outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in -his hands. -She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, -said, "Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My -arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my -husband, come" -There was something diabolically sweet in her tones, something of the -tinkling of glass when struck, which rang through the brains even of -us who heard the words addressed to another. -As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell, moving his hands from his -face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when Van -Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden -crucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted face, -full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb. -When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if -arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face -was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had -now no quiver from Van Helsing's nerves. Never did I see such baffled -malice on a face, and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by -mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to -throw out sparks of hell fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the -folds of flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely, -bloodstained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of -the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death, if looks could -kill, we saw it at that moment. -And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained -between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of -entry. -Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur, "Answer me, oh my -friend Am I to proceed in my work?" -"Do as you will, friend. Do as you will. There can be no horror like -this ever any more." And he groaned in spirit. -Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his arms. We -could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing held it -down. Coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the chinks -some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there. We all looked on -with horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back, the woman, -with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own, pass through -the interstice where scarce a knife blade could have gone. We all -felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor calmly restoring -the strings of putty to the edges of the door. -When this was done, he lifted the child and said, "Come now, my -friends. We can do no more till tomorrow. There is a funeral at -noon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends -of the dead will all be gone by two, and when the sexton locks the -gate we shall remain. Then there is more to do, but not like this of -tonight. As for this little one, he is not much harmed, and by -tomorrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the police -will find him, as on the other night, and then to home." -Coming close to Arthur, he said, "My friend Arthur, you have had a sore -trial, but after, when you look back, you will see how it was -necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this time -tomorrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have drunk of the -sweet waters. So do not mourn overmuch. Till then I shall not ask -you to forgive me." -Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other -on the way. We had left behind the child in safety, and were tired. -So we all slept with more or less reality of sleep. - September, night.A little before twelve o'clock we three, Arthur, -Quincey Morris, and myself, called for the Professor. It was odd to -notice that by common consent we had all put on black clothes. Of -course, Arthur wore black, for he was in deep mourning, but the rest -of us wore it by instinct. We got to the graveyard by halfpast one, -and strolled about, keeping out of official observation, so that when -the gravediggers had completed their task and the sexton, under the -belief that every one had gone, had locked the gate, we had the place -all to ourselves. Van Helsing, instead of his little black bag, had -with him a long leather one, something like a cricketing bag. It was -manifestly of fair weight. -When we were alone and had heard the last of the footsteps die out up -the road, we silently, and as if by ordered intention, followed the -Professor to the tomb. He unlocked the door, and we entered, closing -it behind us. Then he took from his bag the lantern, which he lit, -and also two wax candles, which, when lighted, he stuck by melting -their own ends, on other coffins, so that they might give light -sufficient to work by. When he again lifted the lid off Lucy's coffin -we all looked, Arthur trembling like an aspen, and saw that the corpse -lay there in all its death beauty. But there was no love in my own -heart, nothing but loathing for the foul Thing which had taken Lucy's -shape without her soul. I could see even Arthur's face grow hard as -he looked. Presently he said to Van Helsing, "Is this really Lucy's -body, or only a demon in her shape?" -"It is her body, and yet not it. But wait a while, and you shall see -her as she was, and is." -She seemed like a nightmare of Lucy as she lay there, the pointed -teeth, the blood stained, voluptuous mouth, which made one shudder to -see, the whole carnal and unspirited appearance, seeming like a -devilish mockery of Lucy's sweet purity. Van Helsing, with his usual -methodicalness, began taking the various contents from his bag and -placing them ready for use. First he took out a soldering iron and -some plumbing solder, and then small oil lamp, which gave out, when -lit in a corner of the tomb, gas which burned at a fierce heat with a -blue flame, then his operating knives, which he placed to hand, and -last a round wooden stake, some two and a half or three inches thick -and about three feet long. One end of it was hardened by charring in -the fire, and was sharpened to a fine point. With this stake came a -heavy hammer, such as in households is used in the coal cellar for -breaking the lumps. To me, a doctor's preparations for work of any -kind are stimulating and bracing, but the effect of these things on -both Arthur and Quincey was to cause them a sort of consternation. -They both, however, kept their courage, and remained silent and quiet. -When all was ready, Van Helsing said, "Before we do anything, let me -tell you this. It is out of the lore and experience of the ancients -and of all those who have studied the powers of the UnDead. When they -become such, there comes with the change the curse of immortality. -They cannot die, but must go on age after age adding new victims and -multiplying the evils of the world. For all that die from the preying -of the Undead become themselves Undead, and prey on their kind. And -so the circle goes on ever widening, like as the ripples from a stone -thrown in the water. Friend Arthur, if you had met that kiss which -you know of before poor Lucy die, or again, last night when you open -your arms to her, you would in time, when you had died, have become -nosferatu, as they call it in Eastern Europe, and would for all time -make more of those UnDeads that so have filled us with horror. The -career of this so unhappy dear lady is but just begun. Those children -whose blood she sucked are not as yet so much the worse, but if she -lives on, UnDead, more and more they lose their blood and by her power -over them they come to her, and so she draw their blood with that so -wicked mouth. But if she die in truth, then all cease. The tiny -wounds of the throats disappear, and they go back to their play -unknowing ever of what has been. But of the most blessed of all, when -this now UnDead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the -poor lady whom we love shall again be free. Instead of working -wickedness by night and growing more debased in the assimilating of it -by day, she shall take her place with the other Angels. So that, my -friend, it will be a blessed hand for her that shall strike the blow -that sets her free. To this I am willing, but is there none amongst -us who has a better right? Will it be no joy to think of hereafter in -the silence of the night when sleep is not, 'It was my hand that sent -her to the stars. It was the hand of him that loved her best, the -hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been to her to -choose?' Tell me if there be such a one amongst us?" -We all looked at Arthur. He saw too, what we all did, the infinite -kindness which suggested that his should be the hand which would -restore Lucy to us as a holy, and not an unholy, memory. He stepped -forward and said bravely, though his hand trembled, and his face was -as pale as snow, "My true friend, from the bottom of my broken heart I -thank you. Tell me what I am to do, and I shall not falter" -Van Helsing laid a hand on his shoulder, and said, "Brave lad A -moment's courage, and it is done. This stake must be driven through -her. It well be a fearful ordeal, be not deceived in that, but it -will be only a short time, and you will then rejoice more than your -pain was great. From this grim tomb you will emerge as though you -tread on air. But you must not falter when once you have begun. Only -think that we, your true friends, are round you, and that we pray for -you all the time." -"Go on," said Arthur hoarsely. "Tell me what I am to do." -"Take this stake in your left hand, ready to place to the point over -the heart, and the hammer in your right. Then when we begin our -prayer for the dead, I shall read him, I have here the book, and the -others shall follow, strike in God's name, that so all may be well -with the dead that we love and that the UnDead pass away." -Arthur took the stake and the hammer, and when once his mind was set -on action his hands never trembled nor even quivered. Van Helsing -opened his missal and began to read, and Quincey and I followed as -well as we could. -Arthur placed the point over the heart, and as I looked I could see its -dint in the white flesh. Then he struck with all his might. -The thing in the coffin writhed, and a hideous, bloodcurdling screech -came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and -twisted in wild contortions. The sharp white teeth champed together till -the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam. But -Arthur never faltered. He looked like a figure of Thor as his -untrembling arm rose and fell, driving deeper and deeper the -mercybearing stake, whilst the blood from the pierced heart welled -and spurted up around it. His face was set, and high duty seemed to -shine through it. The sight of it gave us courage so that our voices -seemed to ring through the little vault. -And then the writhing and quivering of the body became less, and the -teeth seemed to champ, and the face to quiver. Finally it lay still. -The terrible task was over. -The hammer fell from Arthur's hand. He reeled and would have fallen -had we not caught him. The great drops of sweat sprang from his -forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed been an -awful strain on him, and had he not been forced to his task by more -than human considerations he could never have gone through with it. -For a few minutes we were so taken up with him that we did not look -towards the coffin. When we did, however, a murmur of startled -surprise ran from one to the other of us. We gazed so eagerly that -Arthur rose, for he had been seated on the ground, and came and looked -too, and then a glad strange light broke over his face and dispelled -altogether the gloom of horror that lay upon it. -There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we had so -dreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was yielded -as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as we had seen -her in life, with her face of unequalled sweetness and purity. True -that there were there, as we had seen them in life, the traces of care -and pain and waste. But these were all dear to us, for they marked -her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt that the holy calm -that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and form was only an -earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to reign for ever. -Van Helsing came and laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and said to -him, "And now, Arthur my friend, dear lad, am I not forgiven?" -The reaction of the terrible strain came as he took the old man's hand -in his, and raising it to his lips, pressed it, and said, "Forgiven -God bless you that you have given my dear one her soul again, and me -peace." He put his hands on the Professor's shoulder, and laying his -head on his breast, cried for a while silently, whilst we stood -unmoving. -When he raised his head Van Helsing said to him, "And now, my child, -you may kiss her. Kiss her dead lips if you will, as she would have -you to, if for her to choose. For she is not a grinning devil now, -not any more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer she is the -devil's UnDead. She is God's true dead, whose soul is with Him" -Arthur bent and kissed her, and then we sent him and Quincey out of the -tomb. The Professor and I sawed the top off the stake, leaving the -point of it in the body. Then we cut off the head and filled the -mouth with garlic. We soldered up the leaden coffin, screwed on the -coffin lid, and gathering up our belongings, came away. When the -Professor locked the door he gave the key to Arthur. -Outside the air was sweet, the sun shone, and the birds sang, and it -seemed as if all nature were tuned to a different pitch. There was -gladness and mirth and peace everywhere, for we were at rest ourselves -on one account, and we were glad, though it was with a tempered joy. -Before we moved away Van Helsing said, "Now, my friends, one step of -our work is done, one the most harrowing to ourselves. But there -remains a greater task to find out the author of all this our sorrow -and to stamp him out. I have clues which we can follow, but it is a -long task, and a difficult one, and there is danger in it, and pain. -Shall you not all help me? We have learned to believe, all of us, is -it not so? And since so, do we not see our duty? Yes And do we not -promise to go on to the bitter end?" -Each in turn, we took his hand, and the promise was made. Then said -the Professor as we moved off, "Two nights hence you shall meet with -me and dine together at seven of the clock with friend John. I shall -entreat two others, two that you know not as yet, and I shall be ready -to all our work show and our plans unfold. Friend John, you come with -me home, for I have much to consult you about, and you can help me. -Tonight I leave for Amsterdam, but shall return tomorrow night. And -then begins our great quest. But first I shall have much to say, so -that you may know what to do and to dread. Then our promise shall be -made to each other anew. For there is a terrible task before us, and -once our feet are on the ploughshare we must not draw back." -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARYcont. -When we arrived at the Berkely Hotel, Van Helsing found a telegram -waiting for him. -"Am coming up by train. Jonathan at Whitby. Important news. Mina -Harker." -The Professor was delighted. "Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina," he -said, "pearl among women She arrive, but I cannot stay. She must go -to your house, friend John. You must meet her at the station. -Telegraph her en route so that she may be prepared." -When the wire was dispatched he had a cup of tea. Over it he told me -of a diary kept by Jonathan Harker when abroad, and gave me a -typewritten copy of it, as also of Mrs. Harker's diary at Whitby. -"Take these," he said, "and study them well. When I have returned you -will be master of all the facts, and we can then better enter on our -inquisition. Keep them safe, for there is in them much of treasure. -You will need all your faith, even you who have had such an experience -as that of today. What is here told," he laid his hand heavily and -gravely on the packet of papers as he spoke, "may be the beginning of -the end to you and me and many another, or it may sound the knell of -the UnDead who walk the earth. Read all, I pray you, with the open -mind, and if you can add in any way to the story here told do so, for -it is all important. You have kept a diary of all these so strange -things, is it not so? Yes Then we shall go through all these -together when we meet." He then made ready for his departure and -shortly drove off to Liverpool Street. I took my way to Paddington, -where I arrived about fifteen minutes before the train came in. -The crowd melted away, after the bustling fashion common to arrival -platforms, and I was beginning to feel uneasy, lest I might miss my -guest, when a sweetfaced, dainty looking girl stepped up to me, and -after a quick glance said, "Dr. Seward, is it not?" -"And you are Mrs. Harker" I answered at once, whereupon she held out -her hand. -"I knew you from the description of poor dear Lucy, but . . ." She -stopped suddenly, and a quick blush overspread her face. -The blush that rose to my own cheeks somehow set us both at ease, for -it was a tacit answer to her own. I got her luggage, which included a -typewriter, and we took the Underground to Fenchurch Street, after I -had sent a wire to my housekeeper to have a sitting room and a bedroom -prepared at once for Mrs. Harker. -In due time we arrived. She knew, of course, that the place was a -lunatic asylum, but I could see that she was unable to repress a -shudder when we entered. -She told me that, if she might, she would come presently to my study, -as she had much to say. So here I am finishing my entry in my -phonograph diary whilst I await her. As yet I have not had the chance -of looking at the papers which Van Helsing left with me, though they -lie open before me. I must get her interested in something, so that I -may have an opportunity of reading them. She does not know how -precious time is, or what a task we have in hand. I must be careful -not to frighten her. Here she is -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.After I had tidied myself, I went down to Dr. Seward's -study. At the door I paused a moment, for I thought I heard him -talking with some one. As, however, he had pressed me to be quick, I -knocked at the door, and on his calling out, "Come in," I entered. -To my intense surprise, there was no one with him. He was quite -alone, and on the table opposite him was what I knew at once from the -description to be a phonograph. I had never seen one, and was much -interested. -"I hope I did not keep you waiting," I said, "but I stayed at the door -as I heard you talking, and thought there was someone with you." -"Oh," he replied with a smile, "I was only entering my diary." -"Your diary?" I asked him in surprise. -"Yes," he answered. "I keep it in this." As he spoke he laid his -hand on the phonograph. I felt quite excited over it, and blurted -out, "Why, this beats even shorthand May I hear it say something?" -"Certainly," he replied with alacrity, and stood up to put it in train -for speaking. Then he paused, and a troubled look overspread his -face. -"The fact is," he began awkwardly, "I only keep my diary in it, and as -it is entirely, almost entirely, about my cases it may be awkward, -that is, I mean . . ." He stopped, and I tried to help him out of his -embarrassment. -"You helped to attend dear Lucy at the end. Let me hear how she died, -for all that I know of her, I shall be very grateful. She was very, -very dear to me." -To my surprise, he answered, with a horrorstruck look in his face, -"Tell you of her death? Not for the wide world" -"Why not?" I asked, for some grave, terrible feeling was coming over me. -Again he paused, and I could see that he was trying to invent an -excuse. At length, he stammered out, "You see, I do not know how to -pick out any particular part of the diary." -Even while he was speaking an idea dawned upon him, and he said with -unconscious simplicity, in a different voice, and with the naivete of -a child, "that's quite true, upon my honour. Honest Indian" -I could not but smile, at which he grimaced. "I gave myself away that -time" he said. "But do you know that, although I have kept the diary -for months past, it never once struck me how I was going to find any -particular part of it in case I wanted to look it up?" -By this time my mind was made up that the diary of a doctor who -attended Lucy might have something to add to the sum of our knowledge -of that terrible Being, and I said boldly, "Then, Dr. Seward, you had -better let me copy it out for you on my typewriter." -He grew to a positively deathly pallor as he said, "No No No For -all the world. I wouldn't let you know that terrible story" -Then it was terrible. My intuition was right For a moment, I -thought, and as my eyes ranged the room, unconsciously looking for -something or some opportunity to aid me, they lit on a great batch of -typewriting on the table. His eyes caught the look in mine, and -without his thinking, followed their direction. As they saw the -parcel he realized my meaning. -"You do not know me," I said. "When you have read those papers, my -own diary and my husband's also, which I have typed, you will know me -better. I have not faltered in giving every thought of my own heart -in this cause. But, of course, you do not know me, yet, and I must -not expect you to trust me so far." -He is certainly a man of noble nature. Poor dear Lucy was right about -him. He stood up and opened a large drawer, in which were arranged in -order a number of hollow cylinders of metal covered with dark wax, and -said, -"You are quite right. I did not trust you because I did not know -you. But I know you now, and let me say that I should have known you -long ago. I know that Lucy told you of me. She told me of you too. -May I make the only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders and -hear them. The first halfdozen of them are personal to me, and they -will not horrify you. Then you will know me better. Dinner will by -then be ready. In the meantime I shall read over some of these -documents, and shall be better able to understand certain things." -He carried the phonograph himself up to my sitting room and adjusted -it for me. Now I shall learn something pleasant, I am sure. For it -will tell me the other side of a true love episode of which I know one -side already. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.I was so absorbed in that wonderful diary of Jonathan -Harker and that other of his wife that I let the time run on without -thinking. Mrs. Harker was not down when the maid came to announce -dinner, so I said, "She is possibly tired. Let dinner wait an hour," -and I went on with my work. I had just finished Mrs. Harker's diary, -when she came in. She looked sweetly pretty, but very sad, and her -eyes were flushed with crying. This somehow moved me much. Of late I -have had cause for tears, God knows But the relief of them was -denied me, and now the sight of those sweet eyes, brightened by recent -tears, went straight to my heart. So I said as gently as I could, "I -greatly fear I have distressed you." -"Oh, no, not distressed me," she replied. "But I have been more -touched than I can say by your grief. That is a wonderful machine, -but it is cruelly true. It told me, in its very tones, the anguish of -your heart. It was like a soul crying out to Almighty God. No one -must hear them spoken ever again See, I have tried to be useful. I -have copied out the words on my typewriter, and none other need now -hear your heart beat, as I did." -"No one need ever know, shall ever know," I said in a low voice. She -laid her hand on mine and said very gravely, "Ah, but they must" -"Must But why?" I asked. -"Because it is a part of the terrible story, a part of poor Lucy's -death and all that led to it. Because in the struggle which we have -before us to rid the earth of this terrible monster we must have all -the knowledge and all the help which we can get. I think that the -cylinders which you gave me contained more than you intended me to -know. But I can see that there are in your record many lights to this -dark mystery. You will let me help, will you not? I know all up to a -certain point, and I see already, though your diary only took me to -September, how poor Lucy was beset, and how her terrible doom was -being wrought out. Jonathan and I have been working day and night -since Professor Van Helsing saw us. He is gone to Whitby to get more -information, and he will be here tomorrow to help us. We need have no -secrets amongst us. Working together and with absolute trust, we can -surely be stronger than if some of us were in the dark." -She looked at me so appealingly, and at the same time manifested such -courage and resolution in her bearing, that I gave in at once to her -wishes. "You shall," I said, "do as you like in the matter. God -forgive me if I do wrong There are terrible things yet to learn of, -but if you have so far traveled on the road to poor Lucy's death, you -will not be content, I know, to remain in the dark. Nay, the end, the -very end, may give you a gleam of peace. Come, there is dinner. We -must keep one another strong for what is before us. We have a cruel -and dreadful task. When you have eaten you shall learn the rest, and -I shall answer any questions you ask, if there be anything which you -do not understand, though it was apparent to us who were present." -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.After dinner I came with Dr. Seward to his study. He -brought back the phonograph from my room, and I took a chair, and -arranged the phonograph so that I could touch it without getting up, -and showed me how to stop it in case I should want to pause. Then he -very thoughtfully took a chair, with his back to me, so that I might -be as free as possible, and began to read. I put the forked metal to -my ears and listened. -When the terrible story of Lucy's death, and all that followed, was -done, I lay back in my chair powerless. Fortunately I am not of a -fainting disposition. When Dr. Seward saw me he jumped up with a -horrified exclamation, and hurriedly taking a case bottle from the -cupboard, gave me some brandy, which in a few minutes somewhat -restored me. My brain was all in a whirl, and only that there came -through all the multitude of horrors, the holy ray of light that my -dear Lucy was at last at peace, I do not think I could have borne it -without making a scene. It is all so wild and mysterious, and strange -that if I had not known Jonathan's experience in Transylvania I could -not have believed. As it was, I didn't know what to believe, and so -got out of my difficulty by attending to something else. I took the -cover off my typewriter, and said to Dr. Seward, -"Let me write this all out now. We must be ready for Dr. Van Helsing -when he comes. I have sent a telegram to Jonathan to come on here -when he arrives in London from Whitby. In this matter dates are -everything, and I think that if we get all of our material ready, and -have every item put in chronological order, we shall have done much. -"You tell me that Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris are coming too. Let -us be able to tell them when they come." -He accordingly set the phonograph at a slow pace, and I began to -typewrite from the beginning of the seventeenth cylinder. I used -manifold, and so took three copies of the diary, just as I had done -with the rest. It was late when I got through, but Dr. Seward went -about his work of going his round of the patients. When he had -finished he came back and sat near me, reading, so that I did not feel -too lonely whilst I worked. How good and thoughtful he is. The world -seems full of good men, even if there are monsters in it. -Before I left him I remembered what Jonathan put in his diary of the -Professor's perturbation at reading something in an evening paper at -the station at Exeter, so, seeing that Dr. Seward keeps his -newspapers, I borrowed the files of 'The Westminster Gazette' and 'The -Pall Mall Gazette' and took them to my room. I remember how much the -'Dailygraph' and 'The Whitby Gazette', of which I had made cuttings, -had helped us to understand the terrible events at Whitby when Count -Dracula landed, so I shall look through the evening papers since then, -and perhaps I shall get some new light. I am not sleepy, and the work -will help to keep me quiet. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.Mr. Harker arrived at nine o'clock. He got his wife's -wire just before starting. He is uncommonly clever, if one can judge -from his face, and full of energy. If this journal be true, and -judging by one's own wonderful experiences, it must be, he is also a -man of great nerve. That going down to the vault a second time was a -remarkable piece of daring. After reading his account of it I was -prepared to meet a good specimen of manhood, but hardly the quiet, -businesslike gentleman who came here today. -LATER.After lunch Harker and his wife went back to their own room, -and as I passed a while ago I heard the click of the typewriter. They -are hard at it. Mrs. Harker says that they are knitting together in -chronological order every scrap of evidence they have. Harker has got -the letters between the consignee of the boxes at Whitby and the -carriers in London who took charge of them. He is now reading his -wife's transcript of my diary. I wonder what they make out of it. -Here it is . . . -Strange that it never struck me that the very next house might be the -Count's hiding place Goodness knows that we had enough clues from -the conduct of the patient Renfield The bundle of letters relating -to the purchase of the house were with the transcript. Oh, if we had -only had them earlier we might have saved poor Lucy Stop That way -madness lies Harker has gone back, and is again collecting material. -He says that by dinner time they will be able to show a whole -connected narrative. He thinks that in the meantime I should see -Renfield, as hitherto he has been a sort of index to the coming and -going of the Count. I hardly see this yet, but when I get at the -dates I suppose I shall. What a good thing that Mrs. Harker put my -cylinders into type We never could have found the dates otherwise. -I found Renfield sitting placidly in his room with his hands folded, -smiling benignly. At the moment he seemed as sane as any one I ever -saw. I sat down and talked with him on a lot of subjects, all of -which he treated naturally. He then, of his own accord, spoke of -going home, a subject he has never mentioned to my knowledge during -his sojourn here. In fact, he spoke quite confidently of getting his -discharge at once. I believe that, had I not had the chat with Harker -and read the letters and the dates of his outbursts, I should have -been prepared to sign for him after a brief time of observation. As -it is, I am darkly suspicious. All those outbreaks were in some way -linked with the proximity of the Count. What then does this absolute -content mean? Can it be that his instinct is satisfied as to the -vampire's ultimate triumph? Stay. He is himself zoophagous, and in -his wild ravings outside the chapel door of the deserted house he -always spoke of 'master'. This all seems confirmation of our idea. -However, after a while I came away. My friend is just a little too -sane at present to make it safe to probe him too deep with questions. -He might begin to think, and then . . . So I came away. I mistrust -these quiet moods of of his, so I have given the attendant a hint to -look closely after him, and to have a strait waistcoat ready in case -of need. -JOHNATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - September, in train to London.When I received Mr. Billington's -courteous message that he would give me any information in his power I -thought it best to go down to Whitby and make, on the spot, such -inquiries as I wanted. It was now my object to trace that horrid -cargo of the Count's to its place in London. Later, we may be able to -deal with it. Billington junior, a nice lad, met me at the station, -and brought me to his father's house, where they had decided that I -must spend the night. They are hospitable, with true Yorkshire -hospitality, give a guest everything and leave him to do as he likes. -They all knew that I was busy, and that my stay was short, and Mr. -Billington had ready in his office all the papers concerning the -consignment of boxes. It gave me almost a turn to see again one of -the letters which I had seen on the Count's table before I knew of his -diabolical plans. Everything had been carefully thought out, and done -systematically and with precision. He seemed to have been prepared -for every obstacle which might be placed by accident in the way of his -intentions being carried out. To use an Americanism, he had 'taken no -chances', and the absolute accuracy with which his instructions were -fulfilled was simply the logical result of his care. I saw the -invoice, and took note of it. 'Fifty cases of common earth, to be used -for experimental purposes'. Also the copy of the letter to Carter -Paterson, and their reply. Of both these I got copies. This was all -the information Mr. Billington could give me, so I went down to the -port and saw the coastguards, the Customs Officers and the harbour -master, who kindly put me in communication with the men who had -actually received the boxes. Their tally was exact with the list, and -they had nothing to add to the simple description 'fifty cases of -common earth', except that the boxes were 'main and mortal heavy', and -that shifting them was dry work. One of them added that it was hard -lines that there wasn't any gentleman 'such like as like yourself, -squire', to show some sort of appreciation of their efforts in a -liquid form. Another put in a rider that the thirst then generated -was such that even the time which had elapsed had not completely -allayed it. Needless to add, I took care before leaving to lift, -forever and adequately, this source of reproach. - September.The station master was good enough to give me a line to -his old companion the station master at King's Cross, so that when I -arrived there in the morning I was able to ask him about the arrival -of the boxes. He, too put me at once in communication with the proper -officials, and I saw that their tally was correct with the original -invoice. The opportunities of acquiring an abnormal thirst had been -here limited. A noble use of them had, however, been made, and again -I was compelled to deal with the result in ex post facto manner. -From thence I went to Carter Paterson's central office, where I met -with the utmost courtesy. They looked up the transaction in their day -book and letter book, and at once telephoned to their King's Cross -office for more details. By good fortune, the men who did the teaming -were waiting for work, and the official at once sent them over, -sending also by one of them the waybill and all the papers connected -with the delivery of the boxes at Carfax. Here again I found the -tally agreeing exactly. The carriers' men were able to supplement the -paucity of the written words with a few more details. These were, I -shortly found, connected almost solely with the dusty nature of the -job, and the consequent thirst engendered in the operators. On my -affording an opportunity, through the medium of the currency of the -realm, of the allaying, at a later period, this beneficial evil, one -of the men remarked, -"That 'ere 'ouse, guv'nor, is the rummiest I ever was in. Blyme But -it ain't been touched sence a hundred years. There was dust that -thick in the place that you might have slep' on it without 'urtin' of -yer bones. An' the place was that neglected that yer might 'ave -smelled ole Jerusalem in it. But the old chapel, that took the cike, -that did Me and my mate, we thort we wouldn't never git out quick -enough. Lor', I wouldn't take less nor a quid a moment to stay there -arter dark." -Having been in the house, I could well believe him, but if he knew -what I know, he would, I think have raised his terms. -Of one thing I am now satisfied. That all those boxes which arrived at -Whitby from Varna in the Demeter were safely deposited in the old -chapel at Carfax. There should be fifty of them there, unless any -have since been removed, as from Dr. Seward's diary I fear. -Later.Mina and I have worked all day, and we have put all the papers -into order. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.I am so glad that I hardly know how to contain myself. -It is, I suppose, the reaction from the haunting fear which I have -had, that this terrible affair and the reopening of his old wound -might act detrimentally on Jonathan. I saw him leave for Whitby with -as brave a face as could, but I was sick with apprehension. The -effort has, however, done him good. He was never so resolute, never -so strong, never so full of volcanic energy, as at present. It is -just as that dear, good Professor Van Helsing said, he is true grit, -and he improves under strain that would kill a weaker nature. He came -back full of life and hope and determination. We have got everything -in order for tonight. I feel myself quite wild with excitement. I -suppose one ought to pity anything so hunted as the Count. That is -just it. This thing is not human, not even a beast. To read Dr. -Seward's account of poor Lucy's death, and what followed, is enough to -dry up the springs of pity in one's heart. -Later.Lord Godalming and Mr. Morris arrived earlier than we -expected. Dr. Seward was out on business, and had taken Jonathan with -him, so I had to see them. It was to me a painful meeting, for it -brought back all poor dear Lucy's hopes of only a few months ago. Of -course they had heard Lucy speak of me, and it seemed that Dr. Van -Helsing, too, had been quite 'blowing my trumpet', as Mr. Morris -expressed it. Poor fellows, neither of them is aware that I know all -about the proposals they made to Lucy. They did not quite know what -to say or do, as they were ignorant of the amount of my knowledge. So -they had to keep on neutral subjects. However, I thought the matter -over, and came to the conclusion that the best thing I could do would -be to post them on affairs right up to date. I knew from Dr. Seward's -diary that they had been at Lucy's death, her real death, and that I -need not fear to betray any secret before the time. So I told them, -as well as I could, that I had read all the papers and diaries, and -that my husband and I, having typewritten them, had just finished -putting them in order. I gave them each a copy to read in the -library. When Lord Godalming got his and turned it over, it does make -a pretty good pile, he said, "Did you write all this, Mrs. Harker?" -I nodded, and he went on. -"I don't quite see the drift of it, but you people are all so good and -kind, and have been working so earnestly and so energetically, that -all I can do is to accept your ideas blindfold and try to help you. I -have had one lesson already in accepting facts that should make a man -humble to the last hour of his life. Besides, I know you loved my -Lucy . . ." -Here he turned away and covered his face with his hands. I could hear -the tears in his voice. Mr. Morris, with instinctive delicacy, just -laid a hand for a moment on his shoulder, and then walked quietly out -of the room. I suppose there is something in a woman's nature that -makes a man free to break down before her and express his feelings on -the tender or emotional side without feeling it derogatory to his -manhood. For when Lord Godalming found himself alone with me he sat -down on the sofa and gave way utterly and openly. I sat down beside -him and took his hand. I hope he didn't think it forward of me, and -that if he ever thinks of it afterwards he never will have such a -thought. There I wrong him. I know he never will. He is too true a -gentleman. I said to him, for I could see that his heart was -breaking, "I loved dear Lucy, and I know what she was to you, and what -you were to her. She and I were like sisters, and now she is gone, -will you not let me be like a sister to you in your trouble? I know -what sorrows you have had, though I cannot measure the depth of them. -If sympathy and pity can help in your affliction, won't you let me be -of some little service, for Lucy's sake?" -In an instant the poor dear fellow was overwhelmed with grief. It -seemed to me that all that he had of late been suffering in silence -found a vent at once. He grew quite hysterical, and raising his open -hands, beat his palms together in a perfect agony of grief. He stood -up and then sat down again, and the tears rained down his cheeks. I -felt an infinite pity for him, and opened my arms unthinkingly. With -a sob he laid his head on my shoulder and cried like a wearied child, -whilst he shook with emotion. -We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise above -smaller matters when the mother spirit is invoked. I felt this big -sorrowing man's head resting on me, as though it were that of a baby -that some day may lie on my bosom, and I stroked his hair as though he -were my own child. I never thought at the time how strange it all -was. -After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himself with an -apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me that -for days and nights past, weary days and sleepless nights, he had been -unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his time of -sorrow. There was no woman whose sympathy could be given to him, or -with whom, owing to the terrible circumstance with which his sorrow -was surrounded, he could speak freely. -"I know now how I suffered," he said, as he dried his eyes, "but I do -not know even yet, and none other can ever know, how much your sweet -sympathy has been to me today. I shall know better in time, and -believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will -grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother, will -you not, for all our lives, for dear Lucy's sake?" -"For dear Lucy's sake," I said as we clasped hands. "Ay, and for your -own sake," he added, "for if a man's esteem and gratitude are ever -worth the winning, you have won mine today. If ever the future should -bring to you a time when you need a man's help, believe me, you will -not call in vain. God grant that no such time may ever come to you to -break the sunshine of your life, but if it should ever come, promise -me that you will let me know." -He was so earnest, and his sorrow was so fresh, that I felt it would -comfort him, so I said, "I promise." -As I came along the corridor I saw Mr. Morris looking out of a window. -He turned as he heard my footsteps. "How is Art?" he said. Then -noticing my red eyes, he went on, "Ah, I see you have been comforting -him. Poor old fellow He needs it. No one but a woman can help a -man when he is in trouble of the heart, and he had no one to comfort -him." -He bore his own trouble so bravely that my heart bled for him. I saw -the manuscript in his hand, and I knew that when he read it he would -realize how much I knew, so I said to him, "I wish I could comfort all -who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and will -you come to me for comfort if you need it? You will know later why I -speak." -He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took my hand, and raising -it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and -unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The -tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his -throat. He said quite calmly, "Little girl, you will never forget -that true hearted kindness, so long as ever you live" Then he went -into the study to his friend. -"Little girl" The very words he had used to Lucy, and, oh, but he -proved himself a friend. -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - September.I got home at five o'clock, and found that Godalming -and Morris had not only arrived, but had already studied the -transcript of the various diaries and letters which Harker had not yet -returned from his visit to the carriers' men, of whom Dr. Hennessey -had written to me. Mrs. Harker gave us a cup of tea, and I can -honestly say that, for the first time since I have lived in it, this -old house seemed like home. When we had finished, Mrs. Harker said, -"Dr. Seward, may I ask a favour? I want to see your patient, Mr. -Renfield. Do let me see him. What you have said of him in your diary -interests me so much" -She looked so appealing and so pretty that I could not refuse her, and -there was no possible reason why I should, so I took her with me. -When I went into the room, I told the man that a lady would like to see -him, to which he simply answered, "Why?" -"She is going through the house, and wants to see every one in it," I -answered. -"Oh, very well," he said, "let her come in, by all means, but just -wait a minute till I tidy up the place." -His method of tidying was peculiar, he simply swallowed all the flies -and spiders in the boxes before I could stop him. It was quite -evident that he feared, or was jealous of, some interference. When he -had got through his disgusting task, he said cheerfully, "Let the lady -come in," and sat down on the edge of his bed with his head down, but -with his eyelids raised so that he could see her as she entered. For -a moment I thought that he might have some homicidal intent. I -remembered how quiet he had been just before he attacked me in my own -study, and I took care to stand where I could seize him at once if he -attempted to make a spring at her. -She came into the room with an easy gracefulness which would at once -command the respect of any lunatic, for easiness is one of the -qualities mad people most respect. She walked over to him, smiling -pleasantly, and held out her hand. -"Good evening, Mr. Renfield," said she. "You see, I know you, for Dr. -Seward has told me of you." He made no immediate reply, but eyed her -all over intently with a set frown on his face. This look gave way to -one of wonder, which merged in doubt, then to my intense astonishment -he said, "You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You -can't be, you know, for she's dead." -Mrs. Harker smiled sweetly as she replied, "Oh no I have a husband -of my own, to whom I was married before I ever saw Dr. Seward, or he -me. I am Mrs. Harker." -"Then what are you doing here?" -"My husband and I are staying on a visit with Dr. Seward." -"Then don't stay." -"But why not?" -I thought that this style of conversation might not be pleasant to -Mrs. Harker, any more than it was to me, so I joined in, "How did you -know I wanted to marry anyone?" -His reply was simply contemptuous, given in a pause in which he turned -his eyes from Mrs. Harker to me, instantly turning them back again, -"What an asinine question" -"I don't see that at all, Mr. Renfield," said Mrs. Harker, at once -championing me. -He replied to her with as much courtesy and respect as he had shown -contempt to me, "You will, of course, understand, Mrs. Harker, that -when a man is so loved and honoured as our host is, everything -regarding him is of interest in our little community. Dr. Seward is -loved not only by his household and his friends, but even by his -patients, who, being some of them hardly in mental equilibrium, are -apt to distort causes and effects. Since I myself have been an inmate -of a lunatic asylum, I cannot but notice that the sophistic tendencies -of some of its inmates lean towards the errors of non causa and -ignoratio elenche." -I positively opened my eyes at this new development. Here was my own -pet lunatic, the most pronounced of his type that I had ever met with, -talking elemental philosophy, and with the manner of a polished -gentleman. I wonder if it was Mrs. Harker's presence which had -touched some chord in his memory. If this new phase was spontaneous, -or in any way due to her unconscious influence, she must have some -rare gift or power. -We continued to talk for some time, and seeing that he was seemingly -quite reasonable, she ventured, looking at me questioningly as she -began, to lead him to his favourite topic. I was again astonished, -for he addressed himself to the question with the impartiality of -the completest sanity. He even took himself as an example when he -mentioned certain things. -"Why, I myself am an instance of a man who had a strange belief. -Indeed, it was no wonder that my friends were alarmed, and insisted on -my being put under control. I used to fancy that life was a positive -and perpetual entity, and that by consuming a multitude of live -things, no matter how low in the scale of creation, one might -indefinitely prolong life. At times I held the belief so strongly -that I actually tried to take human life. The doctor here will bear -me out that on one occasion I tried to kill him for the purpose of -strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body of -his life through the medium of his blood, relying of course, upon the -Scriptural phrase, 'For the blood is the life.' Though, indeed, the -vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarized the truism to the very -point of contempt. Isn't that true, doctor?" -I nodded assent, for I was so amazed that I hardly knew what to either -think or say, it was hard to imagine that I had seen him eat up his -spiders and flies not five minutes before. Looking at my watch, I saw -that I should go to the station to meet Van Helsing, so I told Mrs. -Harker that it was time to leave. -She came at once, after saying pleasantly to Mr. Renfield, "Goodbye, -and I hope I may see you often, under auspices pleasanter to -yourself." -To which, to my astonishment, he replied, "Goodbye, my dear. I pray -God I may never see your sweet face again. May He bless and keep -you" -When I went to the station to meet Van Helsing I left the boys behind -me. Poor Art seemed more cheerful than he has been since Lucy first -took ill, and Quincey is more like his own bright self than he has -been for many a long day. -Van Helsing stepped from the carriage with the eager nimbleness of a -boy. He saw me at once, and rushed up to me, saying, "Ah, friend -John, how goes all? Well? So I have been busy, for I come here to -stay if need be. All affairs are settled with me, and I have much to -tell. Madam Mina is with you? Yes. And her so fine husband? And -Arthur and my friend Quincey, they are with you, too? Good" -As I drove to the house I told him of what had passed, and of how my -own diary had come to be of some use through Mrs. Harker's suggestion, -at which the Professor interrupted me. -"Ah, that wonderful Madam Mina She has man's brain, a brain that a -man should have were he much gifted, and a woman's heart. The good -God fashioned her for a purpose, believe me, when He made that so good -combination. Friend John, up to now fortune has made that woman of -help to us, after tonight she must not have to do with this so -terrible affair. It is not good that she run a risk so great. We men -are determined, nay, are we not pledged, to destroy this monster? But -it is no part for a woman. Even if she be not harmed, her heart may -fail her in so much and so many horrors and hereafter she may suffer, -both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams. And, -besides, she is young woman and not so long married, there may be -other things to think of some time, if not now. You tell me she has -wrote all, then she must consult with us, but tomorrow she say goodbye -to this work, and we go alone." -I agreed heartily with him, and then I told him what we had found in -his absence, that the house which Dracula had bought was the very next -one to my own. He was amazed, and a great concern seemed to come on -him. -"Oh that we had known it before" he said, "for then we might have -reached him in time to save poor Lucy. However, 'the milk that is -spilt cries not out afterwards,' as you say. We shall not think of -that, but go on our way to the end." Then he fell into a silence that -lasted till we entered my own gateway. Before we went to prepare for -dinner he said to Mrs. Harker, "I am told, Madam Mina, by my friend -John that you and your husband have put up in exact order all things -that have been, up to this moment." -"Not up to this moment, Professor," she said impulsively, "but up to -this morning." -"But why not up to now? We have seen hitherto how good light all the -little things have made. We have told our secrets, and yet no one who -has told is the worse for it." -Mrs. Harker began to blush, and taking a paper from her pockets, she -said, "Dr. Van Helsing, will you read this, and tell me if it must go -in. It is my record of today. I too have seen the need of putting -down at present everything, however trivial, but there is little in -this except what is personal. Must it go in?" -The Professor read it over gravely, and handed it back, saying, "It -need not go in if you do not wish it, but I pray that it may. It can -but make your husband love you the more, and all us, your friends, -more honour you, as well as more esteem and love." She took it back -with another blush and a bright smile. -And so now, up to this very hour, all the records we have are complete -and in order. The Professor took away one copy to study after dinner, -and before our meeting, which is fixed for nine o'clock. The rest of -us have already read everything, so when we meet in the study we shall -all be informed as to facts, and can arrange our plan of battle with -this terrible and mysterious enemy. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - September.When we met in Dr. Seward's study two hours after -dinner, which had been at six o'clock, we unconsciously formed a sort -of board or committee. Professor Van Helsing took the head of the -table, to which Dr. Seward motioned him as he came into the room. He -made me sit next to him on his right, and asked me to act as -secretary. Jonathan sat next to me. Opposite us were Lord Godalming, -Dr. Seward, and Mr. Morris, Lord Godalming being next the Professor, -and Dr. Seward in the centre. -The Professor said, "I may, I suppose, take it that we are all -acquainted with the facts that are in these papers." We all expressed -assent, and he went on, "Then it were, I think, good that I tell you -something of the kind of enemy with which we have to deal. I shall -then make known to you something of the history of this man, which has -been ascertained for me. So we then can discuss how we shall act, and -can take our measure according. -"There are such beings as vampires, some of us have evidence that they -exist. Even had we not the proof of our own unhappy experience, the -teachings and the records of the past give proof enough for sane -peoples. I admit that at the first I was sceptic. Were it not that -through long years I have trained myself to keep an open mind, I could -not have believed until such time as that fact thunder on my ear. 'See -See I prove, I prove.' Alas Had I known at first what now I know, -nay, had I even guess at him, one so precious life had been spared to -many of us who did love her. But that is gone, and we must so work, -that other poor souls perish not, whilst we can save. The nosferatu -do not die like the bee when he sting once. He is only stronger, and -being stronger, have yet more power to work evil. This vampire which -is amongst us is of himself so strong in person as twenty men, he is -of cunning more than mortal, for his cunning be the growth of ages, he -have still the aids of necromancy, which is, as his etymology imply, -the divination by the dead, and all the dead that he can come nigh to -are for him at command he is brute, and more than brute he is devil -in callous, and the heart of him is not he can, within his range, -direct the elements, the storm, the fog, the thunder he can command -all the meaner things, the rat, and the owl, and the bat, the moth, -and the fox, and the wolf, he can grow and become small and he can at -times vanish and come unknown. How then are we to begin our strike to -destroy him? How shall we find his where, and having found it, how -can we destroy? My friends, this is much, it is a terrible task that -we undertake, and there may be consequence to make the brave shudder. -For if we fail in this our fight he must surely win, and then where -end we? Life is nothings, I heed him not. But to fail here, is not -mere life or death. It is that we become as him, that we henceforward -become foul things of the night like him, without heart or conscience, -preying on the bodies and the souls of those we love best. To us -forever are the gates of heaven shut, for who shall open them to us -again? We go on for all time abhorred by all, a blot on the face of -God's sunshine, an arrow in the side of Him who died for man. But we -are face to face with duty, and in such case must we shrink? For me, -I say no, but then I am old, and life, with his sunshine, his fair -places, his song of birds, his music and his love, lie far behind. You -others are young. Some have seen sorrow, but there are fair days yet -in store. What say you?" -Whilst he was speaking, Jonathan had taken my hand. I feared, oh so -much, that the appalling nature of our danger was overcoming him when -I saw his hand stretch out, but it was life to me to feel its touch, -so strong, so self reliant, so resolute. A brave man's hand can speak -for itself, it does not even need a woman's love to hear its music. -When the Professor had done speaking my husband looked in my eyes, and -I in his, there was no need for speaking between us. -"I answer for Mina and myself," he said. -"Count me in, Professor," said Mr. Quincey Morris, laconically as -usual. -"I am with you," said Lord Godalming, "for Lucy's sake, if for no -other reason." -Dr. Seward simply nodded. -The Professor stood up and, after laying his golden crucifix on the -table, held out his hand on either side. I took his right hand, and -Lord Godalming his left, Jonathan held my right with his left and -stretched across to Mr. Morris. So as we all took hands our solemn -compact was made. I felt my heart icy cold, but it did not even occur -to me to draw back. We resumed our places, and Dr. Van Helsing went -on with a sort of cheerfulness which showed that the serious work had -begun. It was to be taken as gravely, and in as businesslike a way, -as any other transaction of life. -"Well, you know what we have to contend against, but we too, are not -without strength. We have on our side power of combination, a power -denied to the vampire kind, we have sources of science, we are free to -act and think, and the hours of the day and the night are ours -equally. In fact, so far as our powers extend, they are unfettered, -and we are free to use them. We have self devotion in a cause and an -end to achieve which is not a selfish one. These things are much. -"Now let us see how far the general powers arrayed against us are -restrict, and how the individual cannot. In fine, let us consider the -limitations of the vampire in general, and of this one in particular. -"All we have to go upon are traditions and superstitions. These do -not at the first appear much, when the matter is one of life and -death, nay of more than either life or death. Yet must we be -satisfied, in the first place because we have to be, no other means is -at our control, and secondly, because, after all these things, -tradition and superstition, are everything. Does not the belief in -vampires rest for others, though not, alas for us, on them? A year -ago which of us would have received such a possibility, in the midst -of our scientific, sceptical, matteroffact nineteenth century? We -even scouted a belief that we saw justified under our very eyes. Take -it, then, that the vampire, and the belief in his limitations and his -cure, rest for the moment on the same base. For, let me tell you, he -is known everywhere that men have been. In old Greece, in old Rome, -he flourish in Germany all over, in France, in India, even in the -Chermosese, and in China, so far from us in all ways, there even is -he, and the peoples for him at this day. He have follow the wake of -the berserker Icelander, the devilbegotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, -the Magyar. -"So far, then, we have all we may act upon, and let me tell you that -very much of the beliefs are justified by what we have seen in our own -so unhappy experience. The vampire live on, and cannot die by mere -passing of the time, he can flourish when that he can fatten on the -blood of the living. Even more, we have seen amongst us that he can -even grow younger, that his vital faculties grow strenuous, and seem -as though they refresh themselves when his special pabulum is plenty. -"But he cannot flourish without this diet, he eat not as others. Even -friend Jonathan, who lived with him for weeks, did never see him eat, -never He throws no shadow, he make in the mirror no reflect, as -again Jonathan observe. He has the strength of many of his hand, -witness again Jonathan when he shut the door against the wolves, and -when he help him from the diligence too. He can transform himself to -wolf, as we gather from the ship arrival in Whitby, when he tear open -the dog, he can be as bat, as Madam Mina saw him on the window at -Whitby, and as friend John saw him fly from this so near house, and as -my friend Quincey saw him at the window of Miss Lucy. -"He can come in mist which he create, that noble ship's captain proved -him of this, but, from what we know, the distance he can make this -mist is limited, and it can only be round himself. -"He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust, as again Jonathan saw -those sisters in the castle of Dracula. He become so small, we -ourselves saw Miss Lucy, ere she was at peace, slip through a -hairbreadth space at the tomb door. He can, when once he find his -way, come out from anything or into anything, no matter how close it -be bound or even fused up with fire, solder you call it. He can see -in the dark, no small power this, in a world which is one half shut -from the light. Ah, but hear me through. -"He can do all these things, yet he is not free. Nay, he is even more -prisoner than the slave of the galley, than the madman in his cell. -He cannot go where he lists, he who is not of nature has yet to obey -some of nature's laws, why we know not. He may not enter anywhere at -the first, unless there be some one of the household who bid him to -come, though afterwards he can come as he please. His power ceases, -as does that of all evil things, at the coming of the day. -"Only at certain times can he have limited freedom. If he be not at -the place whither he is bound, he can only change himself at noon or -at exact sunrise or sunset. These things we are told, and in this -record of ours we have proof by inference. Thus, whereas he can do as -he will within his limit, when he have his earthhome, his -coffinhome, his hellhome, the place unhallowed, as we saw when he -went to the grave of the suicide at Whitby, still at other time he can -only change when the time come. It is said, too, that he can only -pass running water at the slack or the flood of the tide. Then there -are things which so afflict him that he has no power, as the garlic -that we know of, and as for things sacred, as this symbol, my -crucifix, that was amongst us even now when we resolve, to them he is -nothing, but in their presence he take his place far off and silent -with respect. There are others, too, which I shall tell you of, lest -in our seeking we may need them. -"The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not from -it, a sacred bullet fired into the coffin kill him so that he be true -dead, and as for the stake through him, we know already of its peace, -or the cut off head that giveth rest. We have seen it with our eyes. -"Thus when we find the habitation of this manthatwas, we can confine -him to his coffin and destroy him, if we obey what we know. But he is -clever. I have asked my friend Arminius, of BudaPesth University, to -make his record, and from all the means that are, he tell me of what -he has been. He must, indeed, have been that Voivode Dracula who won -his name against the Turk, over the great river on the very frontier -of Turkeyland. If it be so, then was he no common man, for in that -time, and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and -the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the 'land -beyond the forest.' That mighty brain and that iron resolution went -with him to his grave, and are even now arrayed against us. The -Draculas were, says Arminius, a great and noble race, though now and -again were scions who were held by their coevals to have had dealings -with the Evil One. They learned his secrets in the Scholomance, -amongst the mountains over Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims -the tenth scholar as his due. In the records are such words as -'stregoica' witch, 'ordog' and 'pokol' Satan and hell, and in one -manuscript this very Dracula is spoken of as 'wampyr,' which we all -understand too well. There have been from the loins of this very one -great men and good women, and their graves make sacred the earth where -alone this foulness can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors -that this evil thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of -holy memories it cannot rest." -Whilst they were talking Mr. Morris was looking steadily at the -window, and he now got up quietly, and went out of the room. There -was a little pause, and then the Professor went on. -"And now we must settle what we do. We have here much data, and we -must proceed to lay out our campaign. We know from the inquiry of -Jonathan that from the castle to Whitby came fifty boxes of earth, all -of which were delivered at Carfax, we also know that at least some of -these boxes have been removed. It seems to me, that our first step -should be to ascertain whether all the rest remain in the house beyond -that wall where we look today, or whether any more have been removed. -If the latter, we must trace . . ." -Here we were interrupted in a very startling way. Outside the house -came the sound of a pistol shot, the glass of the window was shattered -with a bullet, which ricochetting from the top of the embrasure, -struck the far wall of the room. I am afraid I am at heart a coward, -for I shrieked out. The men all jumped to their feet, Lord Godalming -flew over to the window and threw up the sash. As he did so we heard -Mr. Morris' voice without, "Sorry I fear I have alarmed you. I -shall come in and tell you about it." -A minute later he came in and said, "It was an idiotic thing of me to -do, and I ask your pardon, Mrs. Harker, most sincerely, I fear I must -have frightened you terribly. But the fact is that whilst the -Professor was talking there came a big bat and sat on the window sill. -I have got such a horror of the damned brutes from recent events that -I cannot stand them, and I went out to have a shot, as I have been -doing of late of evenings, whenever I have seen one. You used to -laugh at me for it then, Art." -"Did you hit it?" asked Dr. Van Helsing. -"I don't know, I fancy not, for it flew away into the wood." Without -saying any more he took his seat, and the Professor began to resume -his statement. -"We must trace each of these boxes, and when we are ready, we must -either capture or kill this monster in his lair, or we must, so to -speak, sterilize the earth, so that no more he can seek safety in it. -Thus in the end we may find him in his form of man between the hours -of noon and sunset, and so engage with him when he is at his most -weak. -"And now for you, Madam Mina, this night is the end until all be well. -You are too precious to us to have such risk. When we part tonight, -you no more must question. We shall tell you all in good time. We -are men and are able to bear, but you must be our star and our hope, -and we shall act all the more free that you are not in the danger, -such as we are." -All the men, even Jonathan, seemed relieved, but it did not seem to me -good that they should brave danger and, perhaps lessen their safety, -strength being the best safety, through care of me, but their minds -were made up, and though it was a bitter pill for me to swallow, I -could say nothing, save to accept their chivalrous care of me. -Mr. Morris resumed the discussion, "As there is no time to lose, I -vote we have a look at his house right now. Time is everything with -him, and swift action on our part may save another victim." -I own that my heart began to fail me when the time for action came so -close, but I did not say anything, for I had a greater fear that if I -appeared as a drag or a hindrance to their work, they might even leave -me out of their counsels altogether. They have now gone off to -Carfax, with means to get into the house. -Manlike, they had told me to go to bed and sleep, as if a woman can -sleep when those she loves are in danger I shall lie down, and -pretend to sleep, lest Jonathan have added anxiety about me when he -returns. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October, A.M.Just as we were about to leave the house, an urgent -message was brought to me from Renfield to know if I would see him at -once, as he had something of the utmost importance to say to me. I -told the messenger to say that I would attend to his wishes in the -morning, I was busy just at the moment. -The attendant added, "He seems very importunate, sir. I have never -seen him so eager. I don't know but what, if you don't see him soon, -he will have one of his violent fits." I knew the man would not have -said this without some cause, so I said, "All right, I'll go now," and -I asked the others to wait a few minutes for me, as I had to go and -see my patient. -"Take me with you, friend John," said the Professor. "His case in your -diary interest me much, and it had bearing, too, now and again on our -case. I should much like to see him, and especial when his mind is -disturbed." -"May I come also?" asked Lord Godalming. -"Me too?" said Quincey Morris. "May I come?" said Harker. I nodded, -and we all went down the passage together. -We found him in a state of considerable excitement, but far more -rational in his speech and manner than I had ever seen him. There was -an unusual understanding of himself, which was unlike anything I had -ever met with in a lunatic, and he took it for granted that his -reasons would prevail with others entirely sane. We all five went -into the room, but none of the others at first said anything. His -request was that I would at once release him from the asylum and send -him home. This he backed up with arguments regarding his complete -recovery, and adduced his own existing sanity. -"I appeal to your friends," he said, "they will, perhaps, not mind -sitting in judgement on my case. By the way, you have not introduced -me." -I was so much astonished, that the oddness of introducing a madman in -an asylum did not strike me at the moment, and besides, there was a -certain dignity in the man's manner, so much of the habit of equality, -that I at once made the introduction, "Lord Godalming, Professor Van -Helsing, Mr. Quincey Morris, of Texas, Mr. Jonathan Harker, Mr. -Renfield." -He shook hands with each of them, saying in turn, "Lord Godalming, I -had the honour of seconding your father at the Windham I grieve to -know, by your holding the title, that he is no more. He was a man -loved and honoured by all who knew him, and in his youth was, I have -heard, the inventor of a burnt rum punch, much patronized on Derby -night. Mr. Morris, you should be proud of your great state. Its -reception into the Union was a precedent which may have farreaching -effects hereafter, when the Pole and the Tropics may hold alliance to -the Stars and Stripes. The power of Treaty may yet prove a vast -engine of enlargement, when the Monroe doctrine takes its true place -as a political fable. What shall any man say of his pleasure at -meeting Van Helsing? Sir, I make no apology for dropping all forms of -conventional prefix. When an individual has revolutionized -therapeutics by his discovery of the continuous evolution of brain -matter, conventional forms are unfitting, since they would seem to -limit him to one of a class. You, gentlemen, who by nationality, by -heredity, or by the possession of natural gifts, are fitted to hold -your respective places in the moving world, I take to witness that I -am as sane as at least the majority of men who are in full possession -of their liberties. And I am sure that you, Dr. Seward, humanitarian -and medicojurist as well as scientist, will deem it a moral duty to -deal with me as one to be considered as under exceptional -circumstances." He made this last appeal with a courtly air of -conviction which was not without its own charm. -I think we were all staggered. For my own part, I was under the -conviction, despite my knowledge of the man's character and history, -that his reason had been restored, and I felt under a strong impulse -to tell him that I was satisfied as to his sanity, and would see about -the necessary formalities for his release in the morning. I thought -it better to wait, however, before making so grave a statement, for of -old I knew the sudden changes to which this particular patient was -liable. So I contented myself with making a general statement that he -appeared to be improving very rapidly, that I would have a longer chat -with him in the morning, and would then see what I could do in the -direction of meeting his wishes. -This did not at all satisfy him, for he said quickly, "But I fear, Dr. -Seward, that you hardly apprehend my wish. I desire to go at once, -here, now, this very hour, this very moment, if I may. Time presses, -and in our implied agreement with the old scytheman it is of the -essence of the contract. I am sure it is only necessary to put before -so admirable a practitioner as Dr. Seward so simple, yet so momentous -a wish, to ensure its fulfilment." -He looked at me keenly, and seeing the negative in my face, turned to -the others, and scrutinized them closely. Not meeting any sufficient -response, he went on, "Is it possible that I have erred in my -supposition?" -"You have," I said frankly, but at the same time, as I felt, brutally. -There was a considerable pause, and then he said slowly, "Then I -suppose I must only shift my ground of request. Let me ask for this -concession, boon, privilege, what you will. I am content to implore -in such a case, not on personal grounds, but for the sake of others. I -am not at liberty to give you the whole of my reasons, but you may, I -assure you, take it from me that they are good ones, sound and -unselfish, and spring from the highest sense of duty. -"Could you look, sir, into my heart, you would approve to the full the -sentiments which animate me. Nay, more, you would count me amongst -the best and truest of your friends." -Again he looked at us all keenly. I had a growing conviction that -this sudden change of his entire intellectual method was but yet -another phase of his madness, and so determined to let him go on a -little longer, knowing from experience that he would, like all -lunatics, give himself away in the end. Van Helsing was gazing at him -with a look of utmost intensity, his bushy eyebrows almost meeting -with the fixed concentration of his look. He said to Renfield in a -tone which did not surprise me at the time, but only when I thought of -it afterwards, for it was as of one addressing an equal, "Can you not -tell frankly your real reason for wishing to be free tonight? I will -undertake that if you will satisfy even me, a stranger, without -prejudice, and with the habit of keeping an open mind, Dr. Seward will -give you, at his own risk and on his own responsibility, the privilege -you seek." -He shook his head sadly, and with a look of poignant regret on his -face. The Professor went on, "Come, sir, bethink yourself. You claim -the privilege of reason in the highest degree, since you seek to -impress us with your complete reasonableness. You do this, whose -sanity we have reason to doubt, since you are not yet released from -medical treatment for this very defect. If you will not help us in -our effort to choose the wisest course, how can we perform the duty -which you yourself put upon us? Be wise, and help us, and if we can -we shall aid you to achieve your wish." -He still shook his head as he said, "Dr. Van Helsing, I have nothing to -say. Your argument is complete, and if I were free to speak I should -not hesitate a moment, but I am not my own master in the matter. I -can only ask you to trust me. If I am refused, the responsibility -does not rest with me." -I thought it was now time to end the scene, which was becoming too -comically grave, so I went towards the door, simply saying, "Come, my -friends, we have work to do. Goodnight." -As, however, I got near the door, a new change came over the patient. -He moved towards me so quickly that for the moment I feared that he -was about to make another homicidal attack. My fears, however, were -groundless, for he held up his two hands imploringly, and made his -petition in a moving manner. As he saw that the very excess of his -emotion was militating against him, by restoring us more to our old -relations, he became still more demonstrative. I glanced at Van -Helsing, and saw my conviction reflected in his eyes, so I became a -little more fixed in my manner, if not more stern, and motioned to him -that his efforts were unavailing. I had previously seen something of -the same constantly growing excitement in him when he had to make some -request of which at the time he had thought much, such for instance, -as when he wanted a cat, and I was prepared to see the collapse into -the same sullen acquiescence on this occasion. -My expectation was not realized, for when he found that his appeal -would not be successful, he got into quite a frantic condition. He -threw himself on his knees, and held up his hands, wringing them in -plaintive supplication, and poured forth a torrent of entreaty, with -the tears rolling down his cheeks, and his whole face and form -expressive of the deepest emotion. -"Let me entreat you, Dr. Seward, oh, let me implore you, to let me out -of this house at once. Send me away how you will and where you will, -send keepers with me with whips and chains, let them take me in a -strait waistcoat, manacled and legironed, even to gaol, but let me go -out of this. You don't know what you do by keeping me here. I am -speaking from the depths of my heart, of my very soul. You don't know -whom you wrong, or how, and I may not tell. Woe is me I may not -tell. By all you hold sacred, by all you hold dear, by your love that -is lost, by your hope that lives, for the sake of the Almighty, take -me out of this and save my soul from guilt Can't you hear me, man? -Can't you understand? Will you never learn? Don't you know that I am -sane and earnest now, that I am no lunatic in a mad fit, but a sane -man fighting for his soul? Oh, hear me Hear me Let me go, let me -go, let me go" -I thought that the longer this went on the wilder he would get, and so -would bring on a fit, so I took him by the hand and raised him up. -"Come," I said sternly, "no more of this, we have had quite enough -already. Get to your bed and try to behave more discreetly." -He suddenly stopped and looked at me intently for several moments. -Then, without a word, he rose and moving over, sat down on the side of -the bed. The collapse had come, as on former occasions, just as I had -expected. -When I was leaving the room, last of our party, he said to me in a -quiet, wellbred voice, "You will, I trust, Dr. Seward, do me the -justice to bear in mind, later on, that I did what I could to convince -you tonight." -CHAPTER -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, A.M.I went with the party to the search with an easy -mind, for I think I never saw Mina so absolutely strong and well. I -am so glad that she consented to hold back and let us men do the work. -Somehow, it was a dread to me that she was in this fearful business at -all, but now that her work is done, and that it is due to her energy -and brains and foresight that the whole story is put together in such -a way that every point tells, she may well feel that her part is -finished, and that she can henceforth leave the rest to us. We were, -I think, all a little upset by the scene with Mr. Renfield. When we -came away from his room we were silent till we got back to the study. -Then Mr. Morris said to Dr. Seward, "Say, Jack, if that man wasn't -attempting a bluff, he is about the sanest lunatic I ever saw. I'm -not sure, but I believe that he had some serious purpose, and if he -had, it was pretty rough on him not to get a chance." -Lord Godalming and I were silent, but Dr. Van Helsing added, "Friend -John, you know more lunatics than I do, and I'm glad of it, for I fear -that if it had been to me to decide I would before that last -hysterical outburst have given him free. But we live and learn, and -in our present task we must take no chance, as my friend Quincey would -say. All is best as they are." -Dr. Seward seemed to answer them both in a dreamy kind of way, "I -don't know but that I agree with you. If that man had been an -ordinary lunatic I would have taken my chance of trusting him, but he -seems so mixed up with the Count in an indexy kind of way that I am -afraid of doing anything wrong by helping his fads. I can't forget -how he prayed with almost equal fervor for a cat, and then tried to -tear my throat out with his teeth. Besides, he called the Count 'lord -and master', and he may want to get out to help him in some diabolical -way. That horrid thing has the wolves and the rats and his own kind -to help him, so I suppose he isn't above trying to use a respectable -lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I only hope we have -done what is best. These things, in conjunction with the wild work we -have in hand, help to unnerve a man." -The Professor stepped over, and laying his hand on his shoulder, said -in his grave, kindly way, "Friend John, have no fear. We are trying -to do our duty in a very sad and terrible case, we can only do as we -deem best. What else have we to hope for, except the pity of the good -God?" -Lord Godalming had slipped away for a few minutes, but now he -returned. He held up a little silver whistle as he remarked, "That -old place may be full of rats, and if so, I've got an antidote on -call." -Having passed the wall, we took our way to the house, taking care to -keep in the shadows of the trees on the lawn when the moonlight shone -out. When we got to the porch the Professor opened his bag and took -out a lot of things, which he laid on the step, sorting them into four -little groups, evidently one for each. Then he spoke. -"My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, and we need arms of -many kinds. Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember that he has -the strength of twenty men, and that, though our necks or our -windpipes are of the common kind, and therefore breakable or -crushable, his are not amenable to mere strength. A stronger man, or -a body of men more strong in all than him, can at certain times hold -him, but they cannot hurt him as we can be hurt by him. We must, -therefore, guard ourselves from his touch. Keep this near your -heart." As he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and held it -out to me, I being nearest to him, "put these flowers round your -neck," here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic blossoms, "for -other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this knife, and for aid -in all, these so small electric lamps, which you can fasten to your -breast, and for all, and above all at the last, this, which we must -not desecrate needless." -This was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelope and -handed to me. Each of the others was similarly equipped. -"Now," he said, "friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so that -we can open the door, we need not break house by the window, as before -at Miss Lucy's." -Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical dexterity as -a surgeon standing him in good stead. Presently he got one to suit, -after a little play back and forward the bolt yielded, and with a -rusty clang, shot back. We pressed on the door, the rusty hinges -creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like the image -conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of Miss Westenra's -tomb, I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike the others, for with -one accord they shrank back. The Professor was the first to move -forward, and stepped into the open door. -"In manus tuas, Domine" he said, crossing himself as he passed over -the threshold. We closed the door behind us, lest when we should have -lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from the road. The -Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to open -it from within should we be in a hurry making our exit. Then we all -lit our lamps and proceeded on our search. -The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as the -rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw great -shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling that there -was someone else amongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so -powerfully brought home to me by the grim surroundings, of that -terrible experience in Transylvania. I think the feeling was common -to us all, for I noticed that the others kept looking over their -shoulders at every sound and every new shadow, just as I felt myself -doing. -The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches -deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on holding -down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust was cracked. -The walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the corners were -masses of spider's webs, whereon the dust had gathered till they -looked like old tattered rags as the weight had torn them partly down. -On a table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with a timeyellowed -label on each. They had been used several times, for on the table -were several similar rents in the blanket of dust, similar to that -exposed when the Professor lifted them. -He turned to me and said, "You know this place, Jonathan. You have -copied maps of it, and you know it at least more than we do. Which is -the way to the chapel?" -I had an idea of its direction, though on my former visit I had not -been able to get admission to it, so I led the way, and after a few -wrong turnings found myself opposite a low, arched oaken door, ribbed -with iron bands. -"This is the spot," said the Professor as he turned his lamp on a -small map of the house, copied from the file of my original -correspondence regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we found -the key on the bunch and opened the door. We were prepared for some -unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door a faint, malodorous -air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us ever expected -such an odour as we encountered. None of the others had met the Count -at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the -fasting stage of his existence in his rooms or, when he was bloated -with fresh blood, in a ruined building open to the air, but here the -place was small and close, and the long disuse had made the air -stagnant and foul. There was an earthy smell, as of some dry miasma, -which came through the fouler air. But as to the odour itself, how -shall I describe it? It was not alone that it was composed of all the -ills of mortality and with the pungent, acrid smell of blood, but it -seemed as though corruption had become itself corrupt. Faugh It -sickens me to think of it. Every breath exhaled by that monster -seemed to have clung to the place and intensified its loathsomeness. -Under ordinary circumstances such a stench would have brought our -enterprise to an end, but this was no ordinary case, and the high and -terrible purpose in which we were involved gave us a strength which -rose above merely physical considerations. After the involuntary -shrinking consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we one and all set -about our work as though that loathsome place were a garden of roses. -We made an accurate examination of the place, the Professor saying as -we began, "The first thing is to see how many of the boxes are left, -we must then examine every hole and corner and cranny and see if we -cannot get some clue as to what has become of the rest." -A glance was sufficient to show how many remained, for the great earth -chests were bulky, and there was no mistaking them. -There were only twentynine left out of the fifty Once I got a -fright, for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of the -vaulted door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and for an -instant my heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, -I seemed to see the high lights of the Count's evil face, the ridge of -the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. It was only -for a moment, for, as Lord Godalming said, "I thought I saw a face, -but it was only the shadows," and resumed his inquiry, I turned my -lamp in the direction, and stepped into the passage. There was no -sign of anyone, and as there were no corners, no doors, no aperture of -any kind, but only the solid walls of the passage, there could be no -hiding place even for him. I took it that fear had helped -imagination, and said nothing. -A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly back from a corner, -which he was examining. We all followed his movements with our eyes, -for undoubtedly some nervousness was growing on us, and we saw a whole -mass of phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars. We all -instinctively drew back. The whole place was becoming alive with -rats. -For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save Lord Godalming, who -was seemingly prepared for such an emergency. Rushing over to the -great ironbound oaken door, which Dr. Seward had described from the -outside, and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in the lock, -drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open. Then, taking his little -silver whistle from his pocket, he blew a low, shrill call. It was -answered from behind Dr. Seward's house by the yelping of dogs, and -after about a minute three terriers came dashing round the corner of -the house. Unconsciously we had all moved towards the door, and as we -moved I noticed that the dust had been much disturbed. The boxes -which had been taken out had been brought this way. But even in the -minute that had elapsed the number of the rats had vastly increased. -They seemed to swarm over the place all at once, till the lamplight, -shining on their moving dark bodies and glittering, baleful eyes, made -the place look like a bank of earth set with fireflies. The dogs -dashed on, but at the threshold suddenly stopped and snarled, and -then, simultaneously lifting their noses, began to howl in most -lugubrious fashion. The rats were multiplying in thousands, and we -moved out. -Lord Godalming lifted one of the dogs, and carrying him in, placed him -on the floor. The instant his feet touched the ground he seemed to -recover his courage, and rushed at his natural enemies. They fled -before him so fast that before he had shaken the life out of a score, -the other dogs, who had by now been lifted in the same manner, had but -small prey ere the whole mass had vanished. -With their going it seemed as if some evil presence had departed, for -the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they made sudden darts at -their prostrate foes, and turned them over and over and tossed them in -the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise. -Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening -of the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding -ourselves in the open I know not, but most certainly the shadow of -dread seemed to slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our -coming lost something of its grim significance, though we did not -slacken a whit in our resolution. We closed the outer door and barred -and locked it, and bringing the dogs with us, began our search of the -house. We found nothing throughout except dust in extraordinary -proportions, and all untouched save for my own footsteps when I had -made my first visit. Never once did the dogs exhibit any symptom of -uneasiness, and even when we returned to the chapel they frisked about -as though they had been rabbit hunting in a summer wood. -The morning was quickening in the east when we emerged from the front. -Dr. Van Helsing had taken the key of the hall door from the bunch, and -locked the door in orthodox fashion, putting the key into his pocket -when he had done. -"So far," he said, "our night has been eminently successful. No harm -has come to us such as I feared might be and yet we have ascertained -how many boxes are missing. More than all do I rejoice that this, our -first, and perhaps our most difficult and dangerous, step has been -accomplished without the bringing thereinto our most sweet Madam Mina -or troubling her waking or sleeping thoughts with sights and sounds -and smells of horror which she might never forget. One lesson, too, -we have learned, if it be allowable to argue a particulari, that the -brute beasts which are to the Count's command are yet themselves not -amenable to his spiritual power, for look, these rats that would come -to his call, just as from his castle top he summon the wolves to your -going and to that poor mother's cry, though they come to him, they run -pellmell from the so little dogs of my friend Arthur. We have other -matters before us, other dangers, other fears, and that monster . . . -He has not used his power over the brute world for the only or the -last time tonight. So be it that he has gone elsewhere. Good It -has given us opportunity to cry 'check' in some ways in this chess -game, which we play for the stake of human souls. And now let us go -home. The dawn is close at hand, and we have reason to be content -with our first night's work. It may be ordained that we have many -nights and days to follow, if full of peril, but we must go on, and -from no danger shall we shrink." -The house was silent when we got back, save for some poor creature who -was screaming away in one of the distant wards, and a low, moaning -sound from Renfield's room. The poor wretch was doubtless torturing -himself, after the manner of the insane, with needless thoughts of -pain. -I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Mina asleep, breathing so -softly that I had to put my ear down to hear it. She looks paler than -usual. I hope the meeting tonight has not upset her. I am truly -thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of -our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I -did not think so at first, but I know better now. Therefore I am glad -that it is settled. There may be things which would frighten her to -hear, and yet to conceal them from her might be worse than to tell her -if once she suspected that there was any concealment. Henceforth our -work is to be a sealed book to her, till at least such time as we can -tell her that all is finished, and the earth free from a monster of -the nether world. I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep -silence after such confidence as ours, but I must be resolute, and -tomorrow I shall keep dark over tonight's doings, and shall refuse to -speak of anything that has happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to -disturb her. - October, later.I suppose it was natural that we should have all -overslept ourselves, for the day was a busy one, and the night had no -rest at all. Even Mina must have felt its exhaustion, for though I -slept till the sun was high, I was awake before her, and had to call -two or three times before she awoke. Indeed, she was so sound asleep -that for a few seconds she did not recognize me, but looked at me with -a sort of blank terror, as one looks who has been waked out of a bad -dream. She complained a little of being tired, and I let her rest -till later in the day. We now know of twentyone boxes having been -removed, and if it be that several were taken in any of these removals -we may be able to trace them all. Such will, of course, immensely -simplify our labor, and the sooner the matter is attended to the -better. I shall look up Thomas Snelling today. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.It was towards noon when I was awakened by the Professor -walking into my room. He was more jolly and cheerful than usual, and -it is quite evident that last night's work has helped to take some of -the brooding weight off his mind. -After going over the adventure of the night he suddenly said, "Your -patient interests me much. May it be that with you I visit him this -morning? Or if that you are too occupy, I can go alone if it may be. -It is a new experience to me to find a lunatic who talk philosophy, -and reason so sound." -I had some work to do which pressed, so I told him that if he would go -alone I would be glad, as then I should not have to keep him waiting, -so I called an attendant and gave him the necessary instructions. -Before the Professor left the room I cautioned him against getting any -false impression from my patient. -"But," he answered, "I want him to talk of himself and of his delusion -as to consuming live things. He said to Madam Mina, as I see in your -diary of yesterday, that he had once had such a belief. Why do you -smile, friend John?" -"Excuse me," I said, "but the answer is here." I laid my hand on the -typewritten matter. "When our sane and learned lunatic made that very -statement of how he used to consume life, his mouth was actually -nauseous with the flies and spiders which he had eaten just before -Mrs. Harker entered the room." -Van Helsing smiled in turn. "Good" he said. "Your memory is true, -friend John. I should have remembered. And yet it is this very -obliquity of thought and memory which makes mental disease such a -fascinating study. Perhaps I may gain more knowledge out of the folly -of this madman than I shall from the teaching of the most wise. Who -knows?" -I went on with my work, and before long was through that in hand. It -seemed that the time had been very short indeed, but there was Van -Helsing back in the study. -"Do I interrupt?" he asked politely as he stood at the door. -"Not at all," I answered. "Come in. My work is finished, and I am -free. I can go with you now, if you like." -"It is needless, I have seen him" -"Well?" -"I fear that he does not appraise me at much. Our interview was -short. When I entered his room he was sitting on a stool in the -centre, with his elbows on his knees, and his face was the picture of -sullen discontent. I spoke to him as cheerfully as I could, and with -such a measure of respect as I could assume. He made no reply -whatever. 'Don't you know me?' I asked. His answer was not -reassuring 'I know you well enough you are the old fool Van -Helsing. I wish you would take yourself and your idiotic brain -theories somewhere else. Damn all thickheaded Dutchmen' Not a word -more would he say, but sat in his implacable sullenness as indifferent -to me as though I had not been in the room at all. Thus departed for -this time my chance of much learning from this so clever lunatic, so I -shall go, if I may, and cheer myself with a few happy words with that -sweet soul Madam Mina. Friend John, it does rejoice me unspeakable -that she is no more to be pained, no more to be worried with our -terrible things. Though we shall much miss her help, it is better -so." -"I agree with you with all my heart," I answered earnestly, for I did -not want him to weaken in this matter. "Mrs. Harker is better out of -it. Things are quite bad enough for us, all men of the world, and who -have been in many tight places in our time, but it is no place for a -woman, and if she had remained in touch with the affair, it would in -time infallibly have wrecked her." -So Van Helsing has gone to confer with Mrs. Harker and Harker, Quincey -and Art are all out following up the clues as to the earth boxes. I -shall finish my round of work and we shall meet tonight. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am today, -after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years, to see him -manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of all. -This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and though -Jonathan was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he -went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never mentioned a -word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's house. And yet -he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow I -suppose it must have distressed him even more than it did me. They -all agreed that it was best that I should not be drawn further into -this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think that he keeps -anything from me And now I am crying like a silly fool, when I know -it comes from my husband's great love and from the good, good wishes -of those other strong men. -That has done me good. Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all. And -lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept -anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has -feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my -heart put down for his dear eyes to read. I feel strangely sad and -lowspirited today. I suppose it is the reaction from the terrible -excitement. -Last night I went to bed when the men had gone, simply because they -told me to. I didn't feel sleepy, and I did feel full of devouring -anxiety. I kept thinking over everything that has been ever since -Jonathan came to see me in London, and it all seems like a horrible -tragedy, with fate pressing on relentlessly to some destined end. -Everything that one does seems, no matter how right it may be, to bring -on the very thing which is most to be deplored. If I hadn't gone to -Whitby, perhaps poor dear Lucy would be with us now. She hadn't taken -to visiting the churchyard till I came, and if she hadn't come there -in the day time with me she wouldn't have walked in her sleep. And if -she hadn't gone there at night and asleep, that monster couldn't have -destroyed her as he did. Oh, why did I ever go to Whitby? There now, -crying again I wonder what has come over me today. I must hide it -from Jonathan, for if he knew that I had been crying twice in one -morning . . . I, who never cried on my own account, and whom he has -never caused to shed a tear, the dear fellow would fret his heart out. -I shall put a bold face on, and if I do feel weepy, he shall never see -it. I suppose it is just one of the lessons that we poor women have -to learn . . . -I can't quite remember how I fell asleep last night. I remember -hearing the sudden barking of the dogs and a lot of queer sounds, like -praying on a very tumultuous scale, from Mr. Renfield's room, which is -somewhere under this. And then there was silence over everything, -silence so profound that it startled me, and I got up and looked out -of the window. All was dark and silent, the black shadows thrown by -the moonlight seeming full of a silent mystery of their own. Not a -thing seemed to be stirring, but all to be grim and fixed as death or -fate, so that a thin streak of white mist, that crept with almost -imperceptible slowness across the grass towards the house, seemed to -have a sentience and a vitality of its own. I think that the -digression of my thoughts must have done me good, for when I got back -to bed I found a lethargy creeping over me. I lay a while, but could -not quite sleep, so I got out and looked out of the window again. The -mist was spreading, and was now close up to the house, so that I could -see it lying thick against the wall, as though it were stealing up to -the windows. The poor man was more loud than ever, and though I could -not distinguish a word he said, I could in some way recognize in his -tones some passionate entreaty on his part. Then there was the sound -of a struggle, and I knew that the attendants were dealing with him. -I was so frightened that I crept into bed, and pulled the clothes over -my head, putting my fingers in my ears. I was not then a bit sleepy, -at least so I thought, but I must have fallen asleep, for except -dreams, I do not remember anything until the morning, when Jonathan -woke me. I think that it took me an effort and a little time to -realize where I was, and that it was Jonathan who was bending over me. -My dream was very peculiar, and was almost typical of the way that -waking thoughts become merged in, or continued in, dreams. -I thought that I was asleep, and waiting for Jonathan to come back. I -was very anxious about him, and I was powerless to act, my feet, and -my hands, and my brain were weighted, so that nothing could proceed at -the usual pace. And so I slept uneasily and thought. Then it began -to dawn upon me that the air was heavy, and dank, and cold. I put -back the clothes from my face, and found, to my surprise, that all was -dim around. The gaslight which I had left lit for Jonathan, but -turned down, came only like a tiny red spark through the fog, which -had evidently grown thicker and poured into the room. Then it -occurred to me that I had shut the window before I had come to bed. I -would have got out to make certain on the point, but some leaden -lethargy seemed to chain my limbs and even my will. I lay still and -endured, that was all. I closed my eyes, but could still see through -my eyelids. It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how -conveniently we can imagine. The mist grew thicker and thicker and I -could see now how it came in, for I could see it like smoke, or with -the white energy of boiling water, pouring in, not through the window, -but through the joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker, -till it seemed as if it became concentrated into a sort of pillar of -cloud in the room, through the top of which I could see the light of -the gas shining like a red eye. Things began to whirl through my -brain just as the cloudy column was now whirling in the room, and -through it all came the scriptural words "a pillar of cloud by day and -of fire by night." Was it indeed such spiritual guidance that was -coming to me in my sleep? But the pillar was composed of both the day -and the night guiding, for the fire was in the red eye, which at the -thought got a new fascination for me, till, as I looked, the fire -divided, and seemed to shine on me through the fog like two red eyes, -such as Lucy told me of in her momentary mental wandering when, on the -cliff, the dying sunlight struck the windows of St. Mary's Church. -Suddenly the horror burst upon me that it was thus that Jonathan had -seen those awful women growing into reality through the whirling mist -in the moonlight, and in my dream I must have fainted, for all became -black darkness. The last conscious effort which imagination made was -to show me a livid white face bending over me out of the mist. -I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's reason if -there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing or Dr. -Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me sleep, only -that I fear to alarm them. Such a dream at the present time would -become woven into their fears for me. Tonight I shall strive hard to -sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall tomorrow night get them to give -me a dose of chloral, that cannot hurt me for once, and it will give -me a good night's sleep. Last night tired me more than if I had not -slept at all. - October P.M.Last night I slept, but did not dream. I must have -slept soundly, for I was not waked by Jonathan coming to bed, but the -sleep has not refreshed me, for today I feel terribly weak and -spiritless. I spent all yesterday trying to read, or lying down -dozing. In the afternoon, Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor -man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and -bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much. I am crying when I -think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful. -Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. He and the -others were out till dinner time, and they all came in tired. I did -what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose that the effort did me -good, for I forgot how tired I was. After dinner they sent me to bed, -and all went off to smoke together, as they said, but I knew that they -wanted to tell each other of what had occurred to each during the day. -I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had something important to -communicate. I was not so sleepy as I should have been, so before -they went I asked Dr. Seward to give me a little opiate of some kind, -as I had not slept well the night before. He very kindly made me up a -sleeping draught, which he gave to me, telling me that it would do me -no harm, as it was very mild . . . I have taken it, and am waiting for -sleep, which still keeps aloof. I hope I have not done wrong, for as -sleep begins to flirt with me, a new fear comes that I may have been -foolish in thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I might want -it. Here comes sleep. Goodnight. -CHAPTER -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, evening.I found Thomas Snelling in his house at Bethnal -Green, but unhappily he was not in a condition to remember anything. -The very prospect of beer which my expected coming had opened to him -had proved too much, and he had begun too early on his expected -debauch. I learned, however, from his wife, who seemed a decent, poor -soul, that he was only the assistant of Smollet, who of the two mates -was the responsible person. So off I drove to Walworth, and found Mr. -Joseph Smollet at home and in his shirtsleeves, taking a late tea out -of a saucer. He is a decent, intelligent fellow, distinctly a good, -reliable type of workman, and with a headpiece of his own. He -remembered all about the incident of the boxes, and from a wonderful -dogeared notebook, which he produced from some mysterious receptacle -about the seat of his trousers, and which had hieroglyphical entries -in thick, halfobliterated pencil, he gave me the destinations of the -boxes. There were, he said, six in the cartload which he took from -Carfax and left at Chicksand Street, Mile End New Town, and -another six which he deposited at Jamaica Lane, Bermondsey. If then -the Count meant to scatter these ghastly refuges of his over London, -these places were chosen as the first of delivery, so that later he -might distribute more fully. The systematic manner in which this was -done made me think that he could not mean to confine himself to two -sides of London. He was now fixed on the far east on the northern -shore, on the east of the southern shore, and on the south. The north -and west were surely never meant to be left out of his diabolical -scheme, let alone the City itself and the very heart of fashionable -London in the southwest and west. I went back to Smollet, and asked -him if he could tell us if any other boxes had been taken from Carfax. -He replied, "Well guv'nor, you've treated me very 'an'some", I had -given him half a sovereign, "an I'll tell yer all I know. I heard a -man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are an' 'Ounds, -in Pincher's Alley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a rare dusty job in -a old 'ouse at Purfleet. There ain't a many such jobs as this 'ere, -an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam Bloxam could tell ye summut." -I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that if he -could get me the address it would be worth another half sovereign to -him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood up, saying that -he was going to begin the search then and there. -At the door he stopped, and said, "Look 'ere, guv'nor, there ain't no -sense in me a keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon, or I mayn't, but -anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much tonight. Sam is a -rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can give me a envelope -with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it, I'll find out where Sam -is to be found and post it ye tonight. But ye'd better be up arter -'im soon in the mornin', never mind the booze the night afore." -This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a penny -to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the change. When -she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped it, and when -Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the address when found, -I took my way to home. We're on the track anyhow. I am tired -tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast asleep, and looks a little -too pale. Her eyes look as though she had been crying. Poor dear, -I've no doubt it frets her to be kept in the dark, and it may make her -doubly anxious about me and the others. But it is best as it is. It -is better to be disappointed and worried in such a way now than to -have her nerve broken. The doctors were quite right to insist on her -being kept out of this dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me -this particular burden of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter -on the subject with her under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not -be a hard task, after all, for she herself has become reticent on the -subject, and has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we -told her of our decision. - October, eveningA long and trying and exciting day. By the first -post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper enclosed, -on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a sprawling hand, -"Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk -for the depite." -I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She looked -heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined not to -wake her, but that when I should return from this new search, I would -arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she would be happier in -our own home, with her daily tasks to interest her, than in being here -amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr. Seward for a moment, and -told him where I was off to, promising to come back and tell the rest -so soon as I should have found out anything. I drove to Walworth and -found, with some difficulty, Potter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling -misled me, as I asked for Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court. -However, when I had found the court, I had no difficulty in -discovering Corcoran's lodging house. -When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he shook -his head, and said, "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a person 'ere. -I never 'eard of 'im in all my bloomin' days. Don't believe there -ain't nobody of that kind livin' 'ere or anywheres." -I took out Smollet's letter, and as I read it it seemed to me that the -lesson of the spelling of the name of the court might guide me. "What -are you?" I asked. -"I'm the depity," he answered. -I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling had -again misled me. A half crown tip put the deputy's knowledge at my -disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the remains -of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left for his work -at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not tell me where -the place of work was situated, but he had a vague idea that it was -some kind of a "newfangled ware'us," and with this slender clue I had -to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock before I got any -satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I got at a coffee shop, -where some workmen were having their dinner. One of them suggested -that there was being erected at Cross Angel Street a new "cold -storage" building, and as this suited the condition of a "newfangled -ware'us," I at once drove to it. An interview with a surly gatekeeper -and a surlier foreman, both of whom were appeased with the coin of the -realm, put me on the track of Bloxam. He was sent for on my -suggestion that I was willing to pay his days wages to his foreman for -the privilege of asking him a few questions on a private matter. He -was a smart enough fellow, though rough of speech and bearing. When I -had promised to pay for his information and given him an earnest, he -told me that he had made two journeys between Carfax and a house in -Piccadilly, and had taken from this house to the latter nine great -boxes, "main heavy ones," with a horse and cart hired by him for this -purpose. -I asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in Piccadilly, -to which he replied, "Well, guv'nor, I forgits the number, but it was -only a few door from a big white church, or somethink of the kind, not -long built. It was a dusty old 'ouse, too, though nothin' to the -dustiness of the 'ouse we tooked the bloomin' boxes from." -"How did you get in if both houses were empty?" -"There was the old party what engaged me a waitin' in the 'ouse at -Purfleet. He 'elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the dray. -Curse me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an' him a old -feller, with a white moustache, one that thin you would think he -couldn't throw a shadder." -How this phrase thrilled through me -"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of tea, and -me a puffin' an' a blowin' afore I could upend mine anyhow, an' I'm no -chicken, neither." -"How did you get into the house in Piccadilly?" I asked. -"He was there too. He must 'a started off and got there afore me, for -when I rung of the bell he kem an' opened the door 'isself an' 'elped -me carry the boxes into the 'all." -"The whole nine?" I asked. -"Yus, there was five in the first load an' four in the second. It was -main dry work, an' I don't so well remember 'ow I got 'ome." -I interrupted him, "Were the boxes left in the hall?" -"Yus, it was a big 'all, an' there was nothin' else in it." -I made one more attempt to further matters. "You didn't have any -key?" -"Never used no key nor nothink. The old gent, he opened the door -'isself an' shut it again when I druv off. I don't remember the last -time, but that was the beer." -"And you can't remember the number of the house?" -"No, sir. But ye needn't have no difficulty about that. It's a 'igh -'un with a stone front with a bow on it, an' 'igh steps up to the -door. I know them steps, 'avin' 'ad to carry the boxes up with three -loafers what come round to earn a copper. The old gent give them -shillin's, an' they seein' they got so much, they wanted more. But 'e -took one of them by the shoulder and was like to throw 'im down the -steps, till the lot of them went away cussin'." -I thought that with this description I could find the house, so having -paid my friend for his information, I started off for Piccadilly. I -had gained a new painful experience. The Count could, it was evident, -handle the earth boxes himself. If so, time was precious, for now -that he had achieved a certain amount of distribution, he could, by -choosing his own time, complete the task unobserved. At Piccadilly -Circus I discharged my cab, and walked westward. Beyond the Junior -Constitutional I came across the house described and was satisfied -that this was the next of the lairs arranged by Dracula. The house -looked as though it had been long untenanted. The windows were -encrusted with dust, and the shutters were up. All the framework was -black with time, and from the iron the paint had mostly scaled away. -It was evident that up to lately there had been a large notice board -in front of the balcony. It had, however, been roughly torn away, the -uprights which had supported it still remaining. Behind the rails of -the balcony I saw there were some loose boards, whose raw edges looked -white. I would have given a good deal to have been able to see the -notice board intact, as it would, perhaps, have given some clue to the -ownership of the house. I remembered my experience of the investigation -and purchase of Carfax, and I could not but feel that if I could find -the former owner there might be some means discovered of gaining access -to the house. -There was at present nothing to be learned from the Piccadilly side, -and nothing could be done, so I went around to the back to see if -anything could be gathered from this quarter. The mews were active, -the Piccadilly houses being mostly in occupation. I asked one or two -of the grooms and helpers whom I saw around if they could tell me -anything about the empty house. One of them said that he heard it had -lately been taken, but he couldn't say from whom. He told me, -however, that up to very lately there had been a notice board of "For -Sale" up, and that perhaps Mitchell, Sons, Candy the house agents -could tell me something, as he thought he remembered seeing the name -of that firm on the board. I did not wish to seem too eager, or to -let my informant know or guess too much, so thanking him in the usual -manner, I strolled away. It was now growing dusk, and the autumn -night was closing in, so I did not lose any time. Having learned the -address of Mitchell, Sons, Candy from a directory at the Berkeley, I -was soon at their office in Sackville Street. -The gentleman who saw me was particularly suave in manner, but -uncommunicative in equal proportion. Having once told me that the -Piccadilly house, which throughout our interview he called a -"mansion," was sold, he considered my business as concluded. When I -asked who had purchased it, he opened his eyes a thought wider, and -paused a few seconds before replying, "It is sold, sir." -"Pardon me," I said, with equal politeness, "but I have a special -reason for wishing to know who purchased it." -Again he paused longer, and raised his eyebrows still more. "It is -sold, sir," was again his laconic reply. -"Surely," I said, "you do not mind letting me know so much." -"But I do mind," he answered. "The affairs of their clients are -absolutely safe in the hands of Mitchell, Sons, Candy." -This was manifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no use -arguing with him. I thought I had best meet him on his own ground, so -I said, "Your clients, sir, are happy in having so resolute a guardian -of their confidence. I am myself a professional man." -Here I handed him my card. "In this instance I am not prompted by -curiosity, I act on the part of Lord Godalming, who wishes to know -something of the property which was, he understood, lately for sale." -These words put a different complexion on affairs. He said, "I would -like to oblige you if I could, Mr. Harker, and especially would I like -to oblige his lordship. We once carried out a small matter of renting -some chambers for him when he was the honourable Arthur Holmwood. If -you will let me have his lordship's address I will consult the House -on the subject, and will, in any case, communicate with his lordship -by tonight's post. It will be a pleasure if we can so far deviate -from our rules as to give the required information to his lordship." -I wanted to secure a friend, and not to make an enemy, so I thanked -him, gave the address at Dr. Seward's and came away. It was now dark, -and I was tired and hungry. I got a cup of tea at the Aerated Bread -Company and came down to Purfleet by the next train. -I found all the others at home. Mina was looking tired and pale, but -she made a gallant effort to be bright and cheerful. It wrung my -heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her and so caused -her inquietude. Thank God, this will be the last night of her looking -on at our conferences, and feeling the sting of our not showing our -confidence. It took all my courage to hold to the wise resolution of -keeping her out of our grim task. She seems somehow more reconciled, -or else the very subject seems to have become repugnant to her, for -when any accidental allusion is made she actually shudders. I am glad -we made our resolution in time, as with such a feeling as this, our -growing knowledge would be torture to her. -I could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were alone, -so after dinner, followed by a little music to save appearances even -amongst ourselves, I took Mina to her room and left her to go to bed. -The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me -as though she would detain me, but there was much to be talked of and -I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of telling things has made no -difference between us. -When I came down again I found the others all gathered round the fire -in the study. In the train I had written my diary so far, and simply -read it off to them as the best means of letting them get abreast of -my own information. -When I had finished Van Helsing said, "This has been a great day's -work, friend Jonathan. Doubtless we are on the track of the missing -boxes. If we find them all in that house, then our work is near the -end. But if there be some missing, we must search until we find them. -Then shall we make our final coup, and hunt the wretch to his real -death." -We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke, "Say How -are we going to get into that house?" -"We got into the other," answered Lord Godalming quickly. -"But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we had -night and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty different -thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or night. I -confess I don't see how we are going to get in unless that agency duck -can find us a key of some sort." -Lord Godalming's brows contracted, and he stood up and walked about the -room. Byandby he stopped and said, turning from one to another of -us, "Quincey's head is level. This burglary business is getting -serious. We got off once all right, but we have now a rare job on -hand. Unless we can find the Count's key basket." -As nothing could well be done before morning, and as it would be at -least advisable to wait till Lord Godalming should hear from -Mitchell's, we decided not to take any active step before breakfast -time. For a good while we sat and smoked, discussing the matter in -its various lights and bearings. I took the opportunity of bringing -this diary right up to the moment. I am very sleepy and shall go to -bed . . . -Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular. Her -forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she thinks -even in her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look so -haggard as she did this morning. Tomorrow will, I hope, mend all -this. She will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am sleepy -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change so -rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as they -always mean something more than his own wellbeing, they form a more -than interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him after -his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man commanding -destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny, subjectively. He did -not really care for any of the things of mere earth, he was in the -clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor -mortals. -I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I asked -him, "What about the flies these times?" -He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way, such a smile as would -have become the face of Malvolio, as he answered me, "The fly, my dear -sir, has one striking feature. It's wings are typical of the aerial -powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did well when they -typified the soul as a butterfly" -I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I said -quickly, "Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?" -His madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled look spread over his face -as, shaking his head with a decision which I had but seldom seen in -him. -He said, "Oh, no, oh no I want no souls. Life is all I want." Here -he brightened up. "I am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life -is all right. I have all I want. You must get a new patient, doctor, -if you wish to study zoophagy" -This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on. "Then you command life. -You are a god, I suppose?" -He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority. "Oh no Far be it -from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am not -even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may state my -intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things purely -terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied -spiritually" -This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch's -appositeness, so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that by -so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic. "And why -with Enoch?" -"Because he walked with God." -I could not see the analogy, but did not like to admit it, so I harked -back to what he had denied. "So you don't care about life and you -don't want souls. Why not?" I put my question quickly and somewhat -sternly, on purpose to disconcert him. -The effort succeeded, for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into -his old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually fawned upon -me as he replied. "I don't want any souls, indeed, indeed I don't. -I couldn't use them if I had them. They would be no manner of use to -me. I couldn't eat them or . . ." -He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over his face, -like a wind sweep on the surface of the water. -"And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you've got all -you require, and you know that you will never want, that is all. I -have friends, good friends, like you, Dr. Seward." This was said with -a leer of inexpressible cunning. "I know that I shall never lack the -means of life" -I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some -antagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of such -as he, a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the -present it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came -away. -Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have come -without special reason, but just at present I am so interested in him -that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to have -anything to help pass the time. Harker is out, following up clues, -and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in my study -poring over the record prepared by the Harkers. He seems to think -that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light up on some -clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without cause. I -would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I thought that -after his last repulse he might not care to go again. There was also -another reason. Renfield might not speak so freely before a third -person as when he and I were alone. -I found him sitting in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose -which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When -I came in, he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on -his lips. "What about souls?" -It was evident then that my surmise had been correct. Unconscious -cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic. I determined -to have the matter out. -"What about them yourself?" I asked. -He did not reply for a moment but looked all around him, and up and -down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an answer. -"I don't want any souls" he said in a feeble, apologetic way. The -matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use it, to -"be cruel only to be kind." So I said, "You like life, and you want -life?" -"Oh yes But that is all right. You needn't worry about that" -"But," I asked, "how are we to get the life without getting the soul -also?" -This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up, "A nice time you'll -have some time when you're flying out here, with the souls of -thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and -twittering and moaning all around you. You've got their lives, you -know, and you must put up with their souls" -Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he put his fingers to -his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly just as a small -boy does when his face is being soaped. There was something pathetic -in it that touched me. It also gave me a lesson, for it seemed that -before me was a child, only a child, though the features were worn, -and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was evident that he was -undergoing some process of mental disturbance, and knowing how his -past moods had interpreted things seemingly foreign to himself, I -thought I would enter into his mind as well as I could and go with him. -The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him, speaking -pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed ears, "Would -you like some sugar to get your flies around again?" -He seemed to wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a laugh he -replied, "Not much Flies are poor things, after all" After a pause -he added, "But I don't want their souls buzzing round me, all the -same." -"Or spiders?" I went on. -"Blow spiders What's the use of spiders? There isn't anything in -them to eat or . . ." He stopped suddenly as though reminded of a -forbidden topic. -"So, so" I thought to myself, "this is the second time he has -suddenly stopped at the word 'drink'. What does it mean?" -Renfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he hurried -on, as though to distract my attention from it, "I don't take any -stock at all in such matters. 'Rats and mice and such small deer,' as -Shakespeare has it, 'chicken feed of the larder' they might be called. -I'm past all that sort of nonsense. You might as well ask a man to -eat molecules with a pair of chopsticks, as to try to interest me -about the less carnivora, when I know of what is before me." -"I see," I said. "You want big things that you can make your teeth -meet in? How would you like to breakfast on an elephant?" -"What ridiculous nonsense you are talking?" He was getting too wide -awake, so I thought I would press him hard. -"I wonder," I said reflectively, "what an elephant's soul is like" -The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his -highhorse and became a child again. -"I don't want an elephant's soul, or any soul at all" he said. For a -few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, with -his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement. -"To hell with you and your souls" he shouted. "Why do you plague me -about souls? Haven't I got enough to worry, and pain, to distract me -already, without thinking of souls?" -He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another homicidal -fit, so I blew my whistle. -The instant, however, that I did so he became calm, and said -apologetically, "Forgive me, Doctor. I forgot myself. You do not -need any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be -irritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I am -working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray do not -put me in a strait waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot think -freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will understand" -He had evidently selfcontrol, so when the attendants came I told them -not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go. When the -door was closed he said with considerable dignity and sweetness, "Dr. -Seward, you have been very considerate towards me. Believe me that I -am very, very grateful to you" -I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so I came away. -There is certainly something to ponder over in this man's state. -Several points seem to make what the American interviewer calls "a -story," if one could only get them in proper order. Here they are -Will not mention "drinking." -Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of anything. -Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future. -Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads -being haunted by their souls. -Logically all these things point one way He has assurance of -some kind that he will acquire some higher life. -He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soul. Then it is a -human life he looks to -And the assurance . . .? -Merciful God The Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme -of terror afoot -Later.I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my -suspicion. He grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over for -a while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came to -the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do -in the time which now seems so long ago. -When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar -as of old. The flies, lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to -buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the subject of our -previous conversation, but he would not attend. He went on with his -singing, just as though we had not been present. He had got a scrap -of paper and was folding it into a notebook. We had to come away as -ignorant as we went in. -His is a curious case indeed. We must watch him tonight. -LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS CANDY TO LORD GODALMING. -" October. -"My Lord, -"We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg, -with regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. -Harker on your behalf, to supply the following information -concerning the sale and purchase of No. , Piccadilly. The -original vendors are the executors of the late Mr. Archibald -WinterSuffield. The purchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de -Ville, who effected the purchase himself paying the purchase -money in notes 'over the counter,' if your Lordship will pardon -us using so vulgar an expression. Beyond this we know nothing -whatever of him. -"We are, my Lord, -"Your Lordship's humble servants, -"MITCHELL, SONS CANDY." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told him to -make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from Renfield's room, -and gave him instructions that if there should be anything strange he -was to call me. After dinner, when we had all gathered round the fire -in the study, Mrs. Harker having gone to bed, we discussed the -attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker was the only one who had -any result, and we are in great hopes that his clue may be an -important one. -Before going to bed I went round to the patient's room and looked in -through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly, his heart rose -and fell with regular respiration. -This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after -midnight he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. -I asked him if that was all. He replied that it was all he heard. -There was something about his manner, so suspicious that I asked him -point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted to -having "dozed" for a while. It is too bad that men cannot be trusted -unless they are watched. -Today Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are -looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to have -horses always in readiness, for when we get the information which we -seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilize all the -imported earth between sunrise and sunset. We shall thus catch the -Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is -off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient -medicine. The old physicians took account of things which their -followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for witch and -demon cures which may be useful to us later. -I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity -in strait waistcoats. -Later.We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track, and -our work of tomorrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder if -Renfield's quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so -followed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of the -monster may be carried to him some subtle way. If we could only get -some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my -argument with him today and his resumption of flycatching, it might -afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell . . . -Is he? That wild yell seemed to come from his room . . . -The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had -somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell, and when he -went to him found him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with -blood. I must go at once . . . -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.Let me put down with exactness all that happened, as well -as I can remember, since last I made an entry. Not a detail that I -can recall must be forgotten. In all calmness I must proceed. -When I came to Renfield's room I found him lying on the floor on his -left side in a glittering pool of blood. When I went to move him, it -became at once apparent that he had received some terrible injuries. -There seemed none of the unity of purpose between the parts of the -body which marks even lethargic sanity. As the face was exposed I -could see that it was horribly bruised, as though it had been beaten -against the floor. Indeed it was from the face wounds that the pool -of blood originated. -The attendant who was kneeling beside the body said to me as we turned -him over, "I think, sir, his back is broken. See, both his right arm -and leg and the whole side of his face are paralysed." How such a -thing could have happened puzzled the attendant beyond measure. He -seemed quite bewildered, and his brows were gathered in as he said, "I -can't understand the two things. He could mark his face like that by -beating his own head on the floor. I saw a young woman do it once at -the Eversfield Asylum before anyone could lay hands on her. And I -suppose he might have broken his neck by falling out of bed, if he got -in an awkward kink. But for the life of me I can't imagine how the -two things occurred. If his back was broke, he couldn't beat his -head, and if his face was like that before the fall out of bed, there -would be marks of it." -I said to him, "Go to Dr. Van Helsing, and ask him to kindly come here -at once. I want him without an instant's delay." -The man ran off, and within a few minutes the Professor, in his -dressing gown and slippers, appeared. When he saw Renfield on the -ground, he looked keenly at him a moment, and then turned to me. I -think he recognized my thought in my eyes, for he said very quietly, -manifestly for the ears of the attendant, "Ah, a sad accident He -will need very careful watching, and much attention. I shall stay -with you myself, but I shall first dress myself. If you will remain I -shall in a few minutes join you." -The patient was now breathing stertorously and it was easy to see that -he had suffered some terrible injury. -Van Helsing returned with extraordinary celerity, bearing with him a -surgical case. He had evidently been thinking and had his mind made -up, for almost before he looked at the patient, he whispered to me, -"Send the attendant away. We must be alone with him when he becomes -conscious, after the operation." -I said, "I think that will do now, Simmons. We have done all that we -can at present. You had better go your round, and Dr. Van Helsing -will operate. Let me know instantly if there be anything unusual -anywhere." -The man withdrew, and we went into a strict examination of the -patient. The wounds of the face were superficial. The real injury -was a depressed fracture of the skull, extending right up through the -motor area. -The Professor thought a moment and said, "We must reduce the pressure -and get back to normal conditions, as far as can be. The rapidity of -the suffusion shows the terrible nature of his injury. The whole -motor area seems affected. The suffusion of the brain will increase -quickly, so we must trephine at once or it may be too late." -As he was speaking there was a soft tapping at the door. I went over -and opened it and found in the corridor without, Arthur and Quincey in -pajamas and slippers the former spoke, "I heard your man call up Dr. -Van Helsing and tell him of an accident. So I woke Quincey or rather -called for him as he was not asleep. Things are moving too quickly -and too strangely for sound sleep for any of us these times. I've -been thinking that tomorrow night will not see things as they have -been. We'll have to look back, and forward a little more than we have -done. May we come in?" -I nodded, and held the door open till they had entered, then I closed -it again. When Quincey saw the attitude and state of the patient, and -noted the horrible pool on the floor, he said softly, "My God What -has happened to him? Poor, poor devil" -I told him briefly, and added that we expected he would recover -consciousness after the operation, for a short time, at all events. -He went at once and sat down on the edge of the bed, with Godalming -beside him. We all watched in patience. -"We shall wait," said Van Helsing, "just long enough to fix the best -spot for trephining, so that we may most quickly and perfectly remove -the blood clot, for it is evident that the haemorrhage is increasing." -The minutes during which we waited passed with fearful slowness. I -had a horrible sinking in my heart, and from Van Helsing's face I -gathered that he felt some fear or apprehension as to what was to -come. I dreaded the words Renfield might speak. I was positively -afraid to think. But the conviction of what was coming was on me, as -I have read of men who have heard the death watch. The poor man's -breathing came in uncertain gasps. Each instant he seemed as though -he would open his eyes and speak, but then would follow a prolonged -stertorous breath, and he would relapse into a more fixed -insensibility. Inured as I was to sick beds and death, this suspense -grew and grew upon me. I could almost hear the beating of my own -heart, and the blood surging through my temples sounded like blows -from a hammer. The silence finally became agonizing. I looked at my -companions, one after another, and saw from their flushed faces and -damp brows that they were enduring equal torture. There was a nervous -suspense over us all, as though overhead some dread bell would peal -out powerfully when we should least expect it. -At last there came a time when it was evident that the patient was -sinking fast. He might die at any moment. I looked up at the -Professor and caught his eyes fixed on mine. His face was sternly set -as he spoke, "There is no time to lose. His words may be worth many -lives. I have been thinking so, as I stood here. It may be there is -a soul at stake We shall operate just above the ear." -Without another word he made the operation. For a few moments the -breathing continued to be stertorous. Then there came a breath so -prolonged that it seemed as though it would tear open his chest. -Suddenly his eyes opened, and became fixed in a wild, helpless stare. -This was continued for a few moments, then it was softened into a glad -surprise, and from his lips came a sigh of relief. He moved -convulsively, and as he did so, said, "I'll be quiet, Doctor. Tell -them to take off the strait waistcoat. I have had a terrible dream, -and it has left me so weak that I cannot move. What's wrong with my -face? It feels all swollen, and it smarts dreadfully." -He tried to turn his head, but even with the effort his eyes seemed to -grow glassy again so I gently put it back. Then Van Helsing said in a -quiet grave tone, "Tell us your dream, Mr. Renfield." -As he heard the voice his face brightened, through its mutilation, and -he said, "That is Dr. Van Helsing. How good it is of you to be here. -Give me some water, my lips are dry, and I shall try to tell you. I -dreamed . . ." -He stopped and seemed fainting. I called quietly to Quincey, "The -brandy, it is in my study, quick" He flew and returned with a glass, -the decanter of brandy and a carafe of water. We moistened the -parched lips, and the patient quickly revived. -It seemed, however, that his poor injured brain had been working in -the interval, for when he was quite conscious, he looked at me -piercingly with an agonized confusion which I shall never forget, and -said, "I must not deceive myself. It was no dream, but all a grim -reality." Then his eyes roved round the room. As they caught sight -of the two figures sitting patiently on the edge of the bed he went -on, "If I were not sure already, I would know from them." -For an instant his eyes closed, not with pain or sleep but -voluntarily, as though he were bringing all his faculties to bear. -When he opened them he said, hurriedly, and with more energy than he -had yet displayed, "Quick, Doctor, quick, I am dying I feel that I -have but a few minutes, and then I must go back to death, or worse -Wet my lips with brandy again. I have something that I must say -before I die. Or before my poor crushed brain dies anyhow. Thank -you It was that night after you left me, when I implored you to let -me go away. I couldn't speak then, for I felt my tongue was tied. -But I was as sane then, except in that way, as I am now. I was in an -agony of despair for a long time after you left me, it seemed hours. -Then there came a sudden peace to me. My brain seemed to become cool -again, and I realized where I was. I heard the dogs bark behind our -house, but not where He was" -As he spoke, Van Helsing's eyes never blinked, but his hand came out -and met mine and gripped it hard. He did not, however, betray -himself. He nodded slightly and said, "Go on," in a low voice. -Renfield proceeded. "He came up to the window in the mist, as I had -seen him often before, but he was solid then, not a ghost, and his -eyes were fierce like a man's when angry. He was laughing with his -red mouth, the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he -turned to look back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs were -barking. I wouldn't ask him to come in at first, though I knew he -wanted to, just as he had wanted all along. Then he began promising -me things, not in words but by doing them." -He was interrupted by a word from the Professor, "How?" -"By making them happen. Just as he used to send in the flies when the -sun was shining. Great big fat ones with steel and sapphire on their -wings. And big moths, in the night, with skull and crossbones on -their backs." -Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously, "The -Acherontia Atropos of the Sphinges, what you call the 'Death'shead -Moth'?" -The patient went on without stopping, "Then he began to whisper. 'Rats, -rats, rats Hundreds, thousands, millions of them, and every one a -life. And dogs to eat them, and cats too. All lives All red blood, -with years of life in it, and not merely buzzing flies' I laughed at -him, for I wanted to see what he could do. Then the dogs howled, away -beyond the dark trees in His house. He beckoned me to the window. I -got up and looked out, and He raised his hands, and seemed to call out -without using any words. A dark mass spread over the grass, coming on -like the shape of a flame of fire. And then He moved the mist to the -right and left, and I could see that there were thousands of rats with -their eyes blazing red, like His only smaller. He held up his hand, -and they all stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, 'All these -lives will I give you, ay, and many more and greater, through -countless ages, if you will fall down and worship me' And then a red -cloud, like the colour of blood, seemed to close over my eyes, and -before I knew what I was doing, I found myself opening the sash and -saying to Him, 'Come in, Lord and Master' The rats were all gone, but -He slid into the room through the sash, though it was only open an -inch wide, just as the Moon herself has often come in through the -tiniest crack and has stood before me in all her size and splendour." -His voice was weaker, so I moistened his lips with the brandy again, -and he continued, but it seemed as though his memory had gone on -working in the interval for his story was further advanced. I was -about to call him back to the point, but Van Helsing whispered to me, -"Let him go on. Do not interrupt him. He cannot go back, and maybe -could not proceed at all if once he lost the thread of his thought." -He proceeded, "All day I waited to hear from him, but he did not send -me anything, not even a blowfly, and when the moon got up I was pretty -angry with him. When he did slide in through the window, though it -was shut, and did not even knock, I got mad with him. He sneered at -me, and his white face looked out of the mist with his red eyes -gleaming, and he went on as though he owned the whole place, and I was -no one. He didn't even smell the same as he went by me. I couldn't -hold him. I thought that, somehow, Mrs. Harker had come into the -room." -The two men sitting on the bed stood up and came over, standing behind -him so that he could not see them, but where they could hear better. -They were both silent, but the Professor started and quivered. His -face, however, grew grimmer and sterner still. Renfield went on -without noticing, "When Mrs. Harker came in to see me this afternoon -she wasn't the same. It was like tea after the teapot has been -watered." Here we all moved, but no one said a word. -He went on, "I didn't know that she was here till she spoke, and she -didn't look the same. I don't care for the pale people. I like them -with lots of blood in them, and hers all seemed to have run out. I -didn't think of it at the time, but when she went away I began to -think, and it made me mad to know that He had been taking the life out -of her." I could feel that the rest quivered, as I did but we -remained otherwise still. "So when He came tonight I was ready for -Him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I grabbed it tight. I had heard -that madmen have unnatural strength. And as I knew I was a madman, at -times anyhow, I resolved to use my power. Ay, and He felt it too, for -He had to come out of the mist to struggle with me. I held tight, and -I thought I was going to win, for I didn't mean Him to take any more -of her life, till I saw His eyes. They burned into me, and my -strength became like water. He slipped through it, and when I tried -to cling to Him, He raised me up and flung me down. There was a red -cloud before me, and a noise like thunder, and the mist seemed to -steal away under the door." -His voice was becoming fainter and his breath more stertorous. Van -Helsing stood up instinctively. -"We know the worst now," he said. "He is here, and we know his -purpose. It may not be too late. Let us be armed, the same as we -were the other night, but lose no time, there is not an instant to -spare." -There was no need to put our fear, nay our conviction, into words, we -shared them in common. We all hurried and took from our rooms the -same things that we had when we entered the Count's house. The -Professor had his ready, and as we met in the corridor he pointed to -them significantly as he said, "They never leave me, and they shall -not till this unhappy business is over. Be wise also, my friends. It -is no common enemy that we deal with Alas Alas That dear Madam -Mina should suffer" He stopped, his voice was breaking, and I do not -know if rage or terror predominated in my own heart. -Outside the Harkers' door we paused. Art and Quincey held back, and -the latter said, "Should we disturb her?" -"We must," said Van Helsing grimly. "If the door be locked, I shall -break it in." -"May it not frighten her terribly? It is unusual to break into a -lady's room" -Van Helsing said solemnly, "You are always right. But this is life -and death. All chambers are alike to the doctor. And even were they -not they are all as one to me tonight. Friend John, when I turn the -handle, if the door does not open, do you put your shoulder down and -shove and you too, my friends. Now" -He turned the handle as he spoke, but the door did not yield. We -threw ourselves against it. With a crash it burst open, and we almost -fell headlong into the room. The Professor did actually fall, and I -saw across him as he gathered himself up from hands and knees. What I -saw appalled me. I felt my hair rise like bristles on the back of my -neck, and my heart seemed to stand still. -The moonlight was so bright that through the thick yellow blind the -room was light enough to see. On the bed beside the window lay -Jonathan Harker, his face flushed and breathing heavily as though in a -stupor. Kneeling on the near edge of the bed facing outwards was the -whiteclad figure of his wife. By her side stood a tall, thin man, -clad in black. His face was turned from us, but the instant we saw we -all recognized the Count, in every way, even to the scar on his -forehead. With his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, -keeping them away with her arms at full tension. His right hand -gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his -bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream -trickled down the man's bare chest which was shown by his tornopen -dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child -forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink. -As we burst into the room, the Count turned his face, and the hellish -look that I had heard described seemed to leap into it. His eyes -flamed red with devilish passion. The great nostrils of the white -aquiline nose opened wide and quivered at the edge, and the white -sharp teeth, behind the full lips of the blood dripping mouth, clamped -together like those of a wild beast. With a wrench, which threw his -victim back upon the bed as though hurled from a height, he turned and -sprang at us. But by this time the Professor had gained his feet, and -was holding towards him the envelope which contained the Sacred Wafer. -The Count suddenly stopped, just as poor Lucy had done outside the -tomb, and cowered back. Further and further back he cowered, as we, -lifting our crucifixes, advanced. The moonlight suddenly failed, as a -great black cloud sailed across the sky. And when the gaslight sprang -up under Quincey's match, we saw nothing but a faint vapour. This, as -we looked, trailed under the door, which with the recoil from its -bursting open, had swung back to its old position. Van Helsing, Art, -and I moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her -breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so earpiercing, so -despairing that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till -my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude and -disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated -by the blood which smeared her lips and cheeks and chin. From her -throat trickled a thin stream of blood. Her eyes were mad with -terror. Then she put before her face her poor crushed hands, which -bore on their whiteness the red mark of the Count's terrible grip, and -from behind them came a low desolate wail which made the terrible -scream seem only the quick expression of an endless grief. Van -Helsing stepped forward and drew the coverlet gently over her body, -whilst Art, after looking at her face for an instant despairingly, ran -out of the room. -Van Helsing whispered to me, "Jonathan is in a stupor such as we know -the Vampire can produce. We can do nothing with poor Madam Mina for a -few moments till she recovers herself. I must wake him" -He dipped the end of a towel in cold water and with it began to flick -him on the face, his wife all the while holding her face between her -hands and sobbing in a way that was heart breaking to hear. I raised -the blind, and looked out of the window. There was much moonshine, -and as I looked I could see Quincey Morris run across the lawn and -hide himself in the shadow of a great yew tree. It puzzled me to -think why he was doing this. But at the instant I heard Harker's -quick exclamation as he woke to partial consciousness, and turned to -the bed. On his face, as there might well be, was a look of wild -amazement. He seemed dazed for a few seconds, and then full -consciousness seemed to burst upon him all at once, and he started up. -His wife was aroused by the quick movement, and turned to him with her -arms stretched out, as though to embrace him. Instantly, however, she -drew them in again, and putting her elbows together, held her hands -before her face, and shuddered till the bed beneath her shook. -"In God's name what does this mean?" Harker cried out. "Dr. Seward, -Dr. Van Helsing, what is it? What has happened? What is wrong? Mina, -dear what is it? What does that blood mean? My God, my God Has it -come to this" And, raising himself to his knees, he beat his hands -wildly together. "Good God help us Help her Oh, help her" -With a quick movement he jumped from bed, and began to pull on his -clothes, all the man in him awake at the need for instant exertion. -"What has happened? Tell me all about it" he cried without pausing. -"Dr. Van Helsing, you love Mina, I know. Oh, do something to save her. -It cannot have gone too far yet. Guard her while I look for him" -His wife, through her terror and horror and distress, saw some sure -danger to him. Instantly forgetting her own grief, she seized hold of -him and cried out. -"No No Jonathan, you must not leave me. I have suffered enough -tonight, God knows, without the dread of his harming you. You must -stay with me. Stay with these friends who will watch over you" Her -expression became frantic as she spoke. And, he yielding to her, she -pulled him down sitting on the bedside, and clung to him fiercely. -Van Helsing and I tried to calm them both. The Professor held up his -golden crucifix, and said with wonderful calmness, "Do not fear, my -dear. We are here, and whilst this is close to you no foul thing can -approach. You are safe for tonight, and we must be calm and take -counsel together." -She shuddered and was silent, holding down her head on her husband's -breast. When she raised it, his white nightrobe was stained with -blood where her lips had touched, and where the thin open wound in the -neck had sent forth drops. The instant she saw it she drew back, with -a low wail, and whispered, amidst choking sobs. -"Unclean, unclean I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh, that it -should be that it is I who am now his worst enemy, and whom he may -have most cause to fear." -To this he spoke out resolutely, "Nonsense, Mina. It is a shame to me -to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you. And I shall not -hear it from you. May God judge me by my deserts, and punish me with -more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of -mine anything ever come between us" -He put out his arms and folded her to his breast. And for a while she -lay there sobbing. He looked at us over her bowed head, with eyes -that blinked damply above his quivering nostrils. His mouth was set -as steel. -After a while her sobs became less frequent and more faint, and then -he said to me, speaking with a studied calmness which I felt tried his -nervous power to the utmost. -"And now, Dr. Seward, tell me all about it. Too well I know the broad -fact. Tell me all that has been." -I told him exactly what had happened and he listened with seeming -impassiveness, but his nostrils twitched and his eyes blazed as I told -how the ruthless hands of the Count had held his wife in that terrible -and horrid position, with her mouth to the open wound in his breast. -It interested me, even at that moment, to see that whilst the face of -white set passion worked convulsively over the bowed head, the hands -tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair. Just as I had -finished, Quincey and Godalming knocked at the door. They entered in -obedience to our summons. Van Helsing looked at me questioningly. I -understood him to mean if we were to take advantage of their coming to -divert if possible the thoughts of the unhappy husband and wife from -each other and from themselves. So on nodding acquiescence to him he -asked them what they had seen or done. To which Lord Godalming -answered. -"I could not see him anywhere in the passage, or in any of our rooms. -I looked in the study but, though he had been there, he had gone. He -had, however . . ." He stopped suddenly, looking at the poor drooping -figure on the bed. -Van Helsing said gravely, "Go on, friend Arthur. We want here no more -concealments. Our hope now is in knowing all. Tell freely" -So Art went on, "He had been there, and though it could only have been -for a few seconds, he made rare hay of the place. All the manuscript -had been burned, and the blue flames were flickering amongst the white -ashes. The cylinders of your phonograph too were thrown on the fire, -and the wax had helped the flames." -Here I interrupted. "Thank God there is the other copy in the safe" -His face lit for a moment, but fell again as he went on. "I ran -downstairs then, but could see no sign of him. I looked into -Renfield's room, but there was no trace there except . . ." Again he -paused. -"Go on," said Harker hoarsely. So he bowed his head and moistening his -lips with his tongue, added, "except that the poor fellow is dead." -Mrs. Harker raised her head, looking from one to the other of us she -said solemnly, "God's will be done" -I could not but feel that Art was keeping back something. But, as I -took it that it was with a purpose, I said nothing. -Van Helsing turned to Morris and asked, "And you, friend Quincey, have -you any to tell?" -"A little," he answered. "It may be much eventually, but at present I -can't say. I thought it well to know if possible where the Count -would go when he left the house. I did not see him, but I saw a bat -rise from Renfield's window, and flap westward. I expected to see him -in some shape go back to Carfax, but he evidently sought some other -lair. He will not be back tonight, for the sky is reddening in the -east, and the dawn is close. We must work tomorrow" -He said the latter words through his shut teeth. For a space of -perhaps a couple of minutes there was silence, and I could fancy that -I could hear the sound of our hearts beating. -Then Van Helsing said, placing his hand tenderly on Mrs. Harker's -head, "And now, Madam Mina, poor dear, dear, Madam Mina, tell us -exactly what happened. God knows that I do not want that you be -pained, but it is need that we know all. For now more than ever has -all work to be done quick and sharp, and in deadly earnest. The day -is close to us that must end all, if it may be so, and now is the -chance that we may live and learn." -The poor dear lady shivered, and I could see the tension of her nerves -as she clasped her husband closer to her and bent her head lower and -lower still on his breast. Then she raised her head proudly, and held -out one hand to Van Helsing who took it in his, and after stooping and -kissing it reverently, held it fast. The other hand was locked in -that of her husband, who held his other arm thrown round her -protectingly. After a pause in which she was evidently ordering her -thoughts, she began. -"I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindly given me, but for -a long time it did not act. I seemed to become more wakeful, and -myriads of horrible fancies began to crowd in upon my mind. All of -them connected with death, and vampires, with blood, and pain, and -trouble." Her husband involuntarily groaned as she turned to him and -said lovingly, "Do not fret, dear. You must be brave and strong, and -help me through the horrible task. If you only knew what an effort it -is to me to tell of this fearful thing at all, you would understand -how much I need your help. Well, I saw I must try to help the -medicine to its work with my will, if it was to do me any good, so I -resolutely set myself to sleep. Sure enough sleep must soon have come -to me, for I remember no more. Jonathan coming in had not waked me, -for he lay by my side when next I remember. There was in the room the -same thin white mist that I had before noticed. But I forget now if -you know of this. You will find it in my diary which I shall show you -later. I felt the same vague terror which had come to me before and -the same sense of some presence. I turned to wake Jonathan, but found -that he slept so soundly that it seemed as if it was he who had taken -the sleeping draught, and not I. I tried, but I could not wake him. -This caused me a great fear, and I looked around terrified. Then -indeed, my heart sank within me. Beside the bed, as if he had stepped -out of the mist, or rather as if the mist had turned into his figure, -for it had entirely disappeared, stood a tall, thin man, all in -black. I knew him at once from the description of the others. The -waxen face, the high aquiline nose, on which the light fell in a thin -white line, the parted red lips, with the sharp white teeth showing -between, and the red eyes that I had seemed to see in the sunset on -the windows of St. Mary's Church at Whitby. I knew, too, the red scar -on his forehead where Jonathan had struck him. For an instant my -heart stood still, and I would have screamed out, only that I was -paralyzed. In the pause he spoke in a sort of keen, cutting whisper, -pointing as he spoke to Jonathan. -"'Silence If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains -out before your very eyes.' I was appalled and was too bewildered to -do or say anything. With a mocking smile, he placed one hand upon my -shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying -as he did so, 'First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. -You may as well be quiet. It is not the first time, or the second, -that your veins have appeased my thirst' I was bewildered, and -strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him. I suppose it is a -part of the horrible curse that such is, when his touch is on his -victim. And oh, my God, my God, pity me He placed his reeking lips -upon my throat" Her husband groaned again. She clasped his hand -harder, and looked at him pityingly, as if he were the injured one, -and went on. -"I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half swoon. How long -this horrible thing lasted I know not, but it seemed that a long time -must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. -I saw it drip with the fresh blood" The remembrance seemed for a while -to overpower her, and she drooped and would have sunk down but for her -husband's sustaining arm. With a great effort she recovered herself -and went on. -"Then he spoke to me mockingly, 'And so you, like the others, would -play your brains against mine. You would help these men to hunt me -and frustrate me in my design You know now, and they know in part -already, and will know in full before long, what it is to cross my -path. They should have kept their energies for use closer to home. -Whilst they played wits against me, against me who commanded nations, -and intrigued for them, and fought for them, hundreds of years before -they were born, I was countermining them. And you, their best beloved -one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my -kin, my bountiful winepress for a while, and shall be later on my -companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn, for not one of -them but shall minister to your needs. But as yet you are to be -punished for what you have done. You have aided in thwarting me. Now -you shall come to my call. When my brain says "Come" to you, you -shall cross land or sea to do my bidding. And to that end this' -"With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp nails -opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt out, he -took my hands in one of his, holding them tight, and with the other -seized my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, so that I must -either suffocate or swallow some to the . . . Oh, my God My God -What have I done? What have I done to deserve such a fate, I who have -tried to walk in meekness and righteousness all my days. God pity -me Look down on a poor soul in worse than mortal peril. And in -mercy pity those to whom she is dear" Then she began to rub her lips -as though to cleanse them from pollution. -As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky began to -quicken, and everything became more and more clear. Harker was still -and quiet but over his face, as the awful narrative went on, came a -grey look which deepened and deepened in the morning light, till when -the first red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the flesh stood -darkly out against the whitening hair. -We have arranged that one of us is to stay within call of the unhappy -pair till we can meet together and arrange about taking action. -Of this I am sure. The sun rises today on no more miserable house in -all the great round of its daily course. -CHAPTER -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary. It -is now six o'clock, and we are to meet in the study in half an hour -and take something to eat, for Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward are -agreed that if we do not eat we cannot work our best. Our best will -be, God knows, required today. I must keep writing at every chance, -for I dare not stop to think. All, big and little, must go down. -Perhaps at the end the little things may teach us most. The teaching, -big or little, could not have landed Mina or me anywhere worse than we -are today. However, we must trust and hope. Poor Mina told me just -now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks, that it is in -trouble and trial that our faith is tested. That we must keep on -trusting, and that God will aid us up to the end. The end Oh my -God What end? . . . To work To work -When Dr. Van Helsing and Dr. Seward had come back from seeing poor -Renfield, we went gravely into what was to be done. First, Dr. Seward -told us that when he and Dr. Van Helsing had gone down to the room -below they had found Renfield lying on the floor, all in a heap. His -face was all bruised and crushed in, and the bones of the neck were -broken. -Dr. Seward asked the attendant who was on duty in the passage if he -had heard anything. He said that he had been sitting down, he -confessed to half dozing, when he heard loud voices in the room, and -then Renfield had called out loudly several times, "God God God" -After that there was a sound of falling, and when he entered the room -he found him lying on the floor, face down, just as the doctors had -seen him. Van Helsing asked if he had heard "voices" or "a voice," -and he said he could not say. That at first it had seemed to him as -if there were two, but as there was no one in the room it could have -been only one. He could swear to it, if required, that the word "God" -was spoken by the patient. -Dr. Seward said to us, when we were alone, that he did not wish to go -into the matter. The question of an inquest had to be considered, and -it would never do to put forward the truth, as no one would believe -it. As it was, he thought that on the attendant's evidence he could -give a certificate of death by misadventure in falling from bed. In -case the coroner should demand it, there would be a formal inquest, -necessarily to the same result. -When the question began to be discussed as to what should be our next -step, the very first thing we decided was that Mina should be in full -confidence. That nothing of any sort, no matter how painful, should -be kept from her. She herself agreed as to its wisdom, and it was -pitiful to see her so brave and yet so sorrowful, and in such a depth -of despair. -"There must be no concealment," she said. "Alas We have had too -much already. And besides there is nothing in all the world that can -give me more pain than I have already endured, than I suffer now -Whatever may happen, it must be of new hope or of new courage to me" -Van Helsing was looking at her fixedly as she spoke, and said, -suddenly but quietly, "But dear Madam Mina, are you not afraid. Not -for yourself, but for others from yourself, after what has happened?" -Her face grew set in its lines, but her eyes shone with the devotion -of a martyr as she answered, "Ah no For my mind is made up" -"To what?" he asked gently, whilst we were all very still, for each in -our own way we had a sort of vague idea of what she meant. -Her answer came with direct simplicity, as though she was simply -stating a fact, "Because if I find in myself, and I shall watch keenly -for it, a sign of harm to any that I love, I shall die" -"You would not kill yourself?" he asked, hoarsely. -"I would. If there were no friend who loved me, who would save me -such a pain, and so desperate an effort" She looked at him meaningly -as she spoke. -He was sitting down, but now he rose and came close to her and put his -hand on her head as he said solemnly. "My child, there is such an one -if it were for your good. For myself I could hold it in my account -with God to find such an euthanasia for you, even at this moment if it -were best. Nay, were it safe But my child . . ." -For a moment he seemed choked, and a great sob rose in his throat. He -gulped it down and went on, "There are here some who would stand -between you and death. You must not die. You must not die by any -hand, but least of all your own. Until the other, who has fouled your -sweet life, is true dead you must not die. For if he is still with -the quick Undead, your death would make you even as he is. No, you -must live You must struggle and strive to live, though death would -seem a boon unspeakable. You must fight Death himself, though he come -to you in pain or in joy. By the day, or the night, in safety or in -peril On your living soul I charge you that you do not die. Nay, -nor think of death, till this great evil be past." -The poor dear grew white as death, and shook and shivered, as I have -seen a quicksand shake and shiver at the incoming of the tide. We -were all silent. We could do nothing. At length she grew more calm -and turning to him said sweetly, but oh so sorrowfully, as she held -out her hand, "I promise you, my dear friend, that if God will let me -live, I shall strive to do so. Till, if it may be in His good time, -this horror may have passed away from me." -She was so good and brave that we all felt that our hearts were -strengthened to work and endure for her, and we began to discuss what -we were to do. I told her that she was to have all the papers in the -safe, and all the papers or diaries and phonographs we might hereafter -use, and was to keep the record as she had done before. She was -pleased with the prospect of anything to do, if "pleased" could be -used in connection with so grim an interest. -As usual Van Helsing had thought ahead of everyone else, and was -prepared with an exact ordering of our work. -"It is perhaps well," he said, "that at our meeting after our visit to -Carfax we decided not to do anything with the earth boxes that lay -there. Had we done so, the Count must have guessed our purpose, and -would doubtless have taken measures in advance to frustrate such an -effort with regard to the others. But now he does not know our -intentions. Nay, more, in all probability, he does not know that such -a power exists to us as can sterilize his lairs, so that he cannot use -them as of old. -"We are now so much further advanced in our knowledge as to their -disposition that, when we have examined the house in Piccadilly, we may -track the very last of them. Today then, is ours, and in it rests our -hope. The sun that rose on our sorrow this morning guards us in its -course. Until it sets tonight, that monster must retain whatever form -he now has. He is confined within the limitations of his earthly -envelope. He cannot melt into thin air nor disappear through cracks -or chinks or crannies. If he go through a doorway, he must open the -door like a mortal. And so we have this day to hunt out all his lairs -and sterilize them. So we shall, if we have not yet catch him and -destroy him, drive him to bay in some place where the catching and the -destroying shall be, in time, sure." -Here I started up for I could not contain myself at the thought that -the minutes and seconds so preciously laden with Mina's life and -happiness were flying from us, since whilst we talked action was -impossible. But Van Helsing held up his hand warningly. -"Nay, friend Jonathan," he said, "in this, the quickest way home is -the longest way, so your proverb say. We shall all act and act with -desperate quick, when the time has come. But think, in all probable -the key of the situation is in that house in Piccadilly. The Count -may have many houses which he has bought. Of them he will have deeds -of purchase, keys and other things. He will have paper that he write -on. He will have his book of cheques. There are many belongings that -he must have somewhere. Why not in this place so central, so quiet, -where he come and go by the front or the back at all hours, when in -the very vast of the traffic there is none to notice. We shall go -there and search that house. And when we learn what it holds, then we -do what our friend Arthur call, in his phrases of hunt 'stop the -earths' and so we run down our old fox, so? Is it not?" -"Then let us come at once," I cried, "we are wasting the precious, -precious time" -The Professor did not move, but simply said, "And how are we to get -into that house in Piccadilly?" -"Any way" I cried. "We shall break in if need be." -"And your police? Where will they be, and what will they say?" -I was staggered, but I knew that if he wished to delay he had a good -reason for it. So I said, as quietly as I could, "Don't wait more -than need be. You know, I am sure, what torture I am in." -"Ah, my child, that I do. And indeed there is no wish of me to add to -your anguish. But just think, what can we do, until all the world be -at movement. Then will come our time. I have thought and thought, -and it seems to me that the simplest way is the best of all. Now we -wish to get into the house, but we have no key. Is it not so?" I -nodded. -"Now suppose that you were, in truth, the owner of that house, and -could not still get in. And think there was to you no conscience of -the housebreaker, what would you do?" -"I should get a respectable locksmith, and set him to work to pick the -lock for me." -"And your police, they would interfere, would they not?" -"Oh no Not if they knew the man was properly employed." -"Then," he looked at me as keenly as he spoke, "all that is in doubt -is the conscience of the employer, and the belief of your policemen as -to whether or not that employer has a good conscience or a bad one. -Your police must indeed be zealous men and clever, oh so clever, in -reading the heart, that they trouble themselves in such matter. No, -no, my friend Jonathan, you go take the lock off a hundred empty -houses in this your London, or of any city in the world, and if you do -it as such things are rightly done, and at the time such things are -rightly done, no one will interfere. I have read of a gentleman who -owned a so fine house in London, and when he went for months of summer -to Switzerland and lock up his house, some burglar come and broke -window at back and got in. Then he went and made open the shutters in -front and walk out and in through the door, before the very eyes of -the police. Then he have an auction in that house, and advertise it, -and put up big notice. And when the day come he sell off by a great -auctioneer all the goods of that other man who own them. Then he go -to a builder, and he sell him that house, making an agreement that he -pull it down and take all away within a certain time. And your police -and other authority help him all they can. And when that owner come -back from his holiday in Switzerland he find only an empty hole where -his house had been. This was all done en regle, and in our work we -shall be en regle too. We shall not go so early that the policemen -who have then little to think of, shall deem it strange. But we shall -go after ten o'clock, when there are many about, and such things would -be done were we indeed owners of the house." -I could not but see how right he was and the terrible despair of -Mina's face became relaxed in thought. There was hope in such good -counsel. -Van Helsing went on, "When once within that house we may find more -clues. At any rate some of us can remain there whilst the rest find -the other places where there be more earth boxes, at Bermondsey and -Mile End." -Lord Godalming stood up. "I can be of some use here," he said. "I -shall wire to my people to have horses and carriages where they will -be most convenient." -"Look here, old fellow," said Morris, "it is a capital idea to have -all ready in case we want to go horse backing, but don't you think -that one of your snappy carriages with its heraldic adornments in a -byway of Walworth or Mile End would attract too much attention for our -purpose? It seems to me that we ought to take cabs when we go south -or east. And even leave them somewhere near the neighbourhood we are -going to." -"Friend Quincey is right" said the Professor. "His head is what you -call in plane with the horizon. It is a difficult thing that we go to -do, and we do not want no peoples to watch us if so it may." -Mina took a growing interest in everything and I was rejoiced to see -that the exigency of affairs was helping her to forget for a time the -terrible experience of the night. She was very, very pale, almost -ghastly, and so thin that her lips were drawn away, showing her teeth -in somewhat of prominence. I did not mention this last, lest it -should give her needless pain, but it made my blood run cold in my -veins to think of what had occurred with poor Lucy when the Count had -sucked her blood. As yet there was no sign of the teeth growing -sharper, but the time as yet was short, and there was time for fear. -When we came to the discussion of the sequence of our efforts and of -the disposition of our forces, there were new sources of doubt. It -was finally agreed that before starting for Piccadilly we should -destroy the Count's lair close at hand. In case he should find it out -too soon, we should thus be still ahead of him in our work of -destruction. And his presence in his purely material shape, and at -his weakest, might give us some new clue. -As to the disposal of forces, it was suggested by the Professor that, -after our visit to Carfax, we should all enter the house in -Piccadilly. That the two doctors and I should remain there, whilst -Lord Godalming and Quincey found the lairs at Walworth and Mile End -and destroyed them. It was possible, if not likely, the Professor -urged, that the Count might appear in Piccadilly during the day, and -that if so we might be able to cope with him then and there. At any -rate, we might be able to follow him in force. To this plan I -strenuously objected, and so far as my going was concerned, for I said -that I intended to stay and protect Mina. I thought that my mind was -made up on the subject, but Mina would not listen to my objection. She -said that there might be some law matter in which I could be useful. -That amongst the Count's papers might be some clue which I could -understand out of my experience in Transylvania. And that, as it was, -all the strength we could muster was required to cope with the Count's -extraordinary power. I had to give in, for Mina's resolution was -fixed. She said that it was the last hope for her that we should all -work together. -"As for me," she said, "I have no fear. Things have been as bad as -they can be. And whatever may happen must have in it some element of -hope or comfort. Go, my husband God can, if He wishes it, guard me -as well alone as with any one present." -So I started up crying out, "Then in God's name let us come at once, -for we are losing time. The Count may come to Piccadilly earlier than -we think." -"Not so" said Van Helsing, holding up his hand. -"But why?" I asked. -"Do you forget," he said, with actually a smile, "that last night he -banqueted heavily, and will sleep late?" -Did I forget Shall I ever . . . can I ever Can any of us ever -forget that terrible scene Mina struggled hard to keep her brave -countenance, but the pain overmastered her and she put her hands -before her face, and shuddered whilst she moaned. Van Helsing had not -intended to recall her frightful experience. He had simply lost sight -of her and her part in the affair in his intellectual effort. -When it struck him what he said, he was horrified at his -thoughtlessness and tried to comfort her. -"Oh, Madam Mina," he said, "dear, dear, Madam Mina, alas That I of -all who so reverence you should have said anything so forgetful. These -stupid old lips of mine and this stupid old head do not deserve so, -but you will forget it, will you not?" He bent low beside her as he -spoke. -She took his hand, and looking at him through her tears, said -hoarsely, "No, I shall not forget, for it is well that I remember. -And with it I have so much in memory of you that is sweet, that I take -it all together. Now, you must all be going soon. Breakfast is -ready, and we must all eat that we may be strong." -Breakfast was a strange meal to us all. We tried to be cheerful and -encourage each other, and Mina was the brightest and most cheerful of -us. When it was over, Van Helsing stood up and said, "Now, my dear -friends, we go forth to our terrible enterprise. Are we all armed, as -we were on that night when first we visited our enemy's lair. Armed -against ghostly as well as carnal attack?" -We all assured him. -"Then it is well. Now, Madam Mina, you are in any case quite safe -here until the sunset. And before then we shall return . . . if . . . -We shall return But before we go let me see you armed against personal -attack. I have myself, since you came down, prepared your chamber by -the placing of things of which we know, so that He may not enter. Now -let me guard yourself. On your forehead I touch this piece of Sacred -Wafer in the name of the Father, the Son, and . . ." -There was a fearful scream which almost froze our hearts to hear. As -he had placed the Wafer on Mina's forehead, it had seared it . . . had -burned into the flesh as though it had been a piece of whitehot metal. -My poor darling's brain had told her the significance of the fact as -quickly as her nerves received the pain of it, and the two so -overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature had its voice in that -dreadful scream. -But the words to her thought came quickly. The echo of the scream had -not ceased to ring on the air when there came the reaction, and she -sank on her knees on the floor in an agony of abasement. Pulling her -beautiful hair over her face, as the leper of old his mantle, she -wailed out. -"Unclean Unclean Even the Almighty shuns my polluted flesh I -must bear this mark of shame upon my forehead until the Judgement -Day." -They all paused. I had thrown myself beside her in an agony of -helpless grief, and putting my arms around held her tight. For a few -minutes our sorrowful hearts beat together, whilst the friends around -us turned away their eyes that ran tears silently. Then Van Helsing -turned and said gravely. So gravely that I could not help feeling -that he was in some way inspired, and was stating things outside -himself. -"It may be that you may have to bear that mark till God himself see -fit, as He most surely shall, on the Judgement Day, to redress all -wrongs of the earth and of His children that He has placed thereon. -And oh, Madam Mina, my dear, my dear, may we who love you be there to -see, when that red scar, the sign of God's knowledge of what has been, -shall pass away, and leave your forehead as pure as the heart we know. -For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass away when God sees -right to lift the burden that is hard upon us. Till then we bear our -Cross, as His Son did in obedience to His Will. It may be that we are -chosen instruments of His good pleasure, and that we ascend to His -bidding as that other through stripes and shame. Through tears and -blood. Through doubts and fear, and all that makes the difference -between God and man." -There was hope in his words, and comfort. And they made for -resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simultaneously we each took -one of the old man's hands and bent over and kissed it. Then without -a word we all knelt down together, and all holding hands, swore to be -true to each other. We men pledged ourselves to raise the veil of -sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way, we loved. And -we prayed for help and guidance in the terrible task which lay before -us. It was then time to start. So I said farewell to Mina, a parting -which neither of us shall forget to our dying day, and we set out. -To one thing I have made up my mind. If we find out that Mina must be -a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and -terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one -vampire meant many. Just as their hideous bodies could only rest in -sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for -their ghastly ranks. -We entered Carfax without trouble and found all things the same as on -the first occasion. It was hard to believe that amongst so prosaic -surroundings of neglect and dust and decay there was any ground for -such fear as already we knew. Had not our minds been made up, and had -there not been terrible memories to spur us on, we could hardly have -proceeded with our task. We found no papers, or any sign of use in -the house. And in the old chapel the great boxes looked just as we -had seen them last. -Dr. Van Helsing said to us solemnly as we stood before him, "And now, -my friends, we have a duty here to do. We must sterilize this earth, -so sacred of holy memories, that he has brought from a far distant -land for such fell use. He has chosen this earth because it has been -holy. Thus we defeat him with his own weapon, for we make it more -holy still. It was sanctified to such use of man, now we sanctify it -to God." -As he spoke he took from his bag a screwdriver and a wrench, and very -soon the top of one of the cases was thrown open. The earth smelled -musty and close, but we did not somehow seem to mind, for our -attention was concentrated on the Professor. Taking from his box a -piece of the Sacred Wafer he laid it reverently on the earth, and then -shutting down the lid began to screw it home, we aiding him as he -worked. -One by one we treated in the same way each of the great boxes, and -left them as we had found them to all appearance. But in each was a -portion of the Host. When we closed the door behind us, the Professor -said solemnly, "So much is already done. It may be that with all the -others we can be so successful, then the sunset of this evening may -shine of Madam Mina's forehead all white as ivory and with no stain" -As we passed across the lawn on our way to the station to catch our -train we could see the front of the asylum. I looked eagerly, and in -the window of my own room saw Mina. I waved my hand to her, and -nodded to tell that our work there was successfully accomplished. She -nodded in reply to show that she understood. The last I saw, she was -waving her hand in farewell. It was with a heavy heart that we sought -the station and just caught the train, which was steaming in as we -reached the platform. I have written this in the train. -Piccadilly, o'clock.Just before we reached Fenchurch Street -Lord Godalming said to me, "Quincey and I will find a locksmith. You -had better not come with us in case there should be any difficulty. -For under the circumstances it wouldn't seem so bad for us to break -into an empty house. But you are a solicitor and the Incorporated Law -Society might tell you that you should have known better." -I demurred as to my not sharing any danger even of odium, but he went -on, "Besides, it will attract less attention if there are not too many -of us. My title will make it all right with the locksmith, and with -any policeman that may come along. You had better go with Jack and -the Professor and stay in the Green Park. Somewhere in sight of the -house, and when you see the door opened and the smith has gone away, -do you all come across. We shall be on the lookout for you, and shall -let you in." -"The advice is good" said Van Helsing, so we said no more. Godalming -and Morris hurried off in a cab, we following in another. At the -corner of Arlington Street our contingent got out and strolled into -the Green Park. My heart beat as I saw the house on which so much of -our hope was centred, looming up grim and silent in its deserted -condition amongst its more lively and sprucelooking neighbours. We -sat down on a bench within good view, and began to smoke cigars so as -to attract as little attention as possible. The minutes seemed to -pass with leaden feet as we waited for the coming of the others. -At length we saw a fourwheeler drive up. Out of it, in leisurely -fashion, got Lord Godalming and Morris. And down from the box -descended a thickset working man with his rushwoven basket of tools. -Morris paid the cabman, who touched his hat and drove away. Together -the two ascended the steps, and Lord Godalming pointed out what he -wanted done. The workman took off his coat leisurely and hung it on -one of the spikes of the rail, saying something to a policeman who -just then sauntered along. The policeman nodded acquiescence, and the -man kneeling down placed his bag beside him. After searching through -it, he took out a selection of tools which he proceeded to lay beside -him in orderly fashion. Then he stood up, looked in the keyhole, blew -into it, and turning to his employers, made some remark. Lord -Godalming smiled, and the man lifted a good sized bunch of keys. -Selecting one of them, he began to probe the lock, as if feeling his -way with it. After fumbling about for a bit he tried a second, and -then a third. All at once the door opened under a slight push from -him, and he and the two others entered the hall. We sat still. My -own cigar burnt furiously, but Van Helsing's went cold altogether. We -waited patiently as we saw the workman come out and bring his bag. -Then he held the door partly open, steadying it with his knees, whilst -he fitted a key to the lock. This he finally handed to Lord -Godalming, who took out his purse and gave him something. The man -touched his hat, took his bag, put on his coat and departed. Not a -soul took the slightest notice of the whole transaction. -When the man had fairly gone, we three crossed the street and knocked -at the door. It was immediately opened by Quincey Morris, beside whom -stood Lord Godalming lighting a cigar. -"The place smells so vilely," said the latter as we came in. It did -indeed smell vilely. Like the old chapel at Carfax. And with our -previous experience it was plain to us that the Count had been using -the place pretty freely. We moved to explore the house, all keeping -together in case of attack, for we knew we had a strong and wily enemy -to deal with, and as yet we did not know whether the Count might not -be in the house. -In the dining room, which lay at the back of the hall, we found eight -boxes of earth. Eight boxes only out of the nine which we sought -Our work was not over, and would never be until we should have found -the missing box. -First we opened the shutters of the window which looked out across a -narrow stone flagged yard at the blank face of a stable, pointed to -look like the front of a miniature house. There were no windows in -it, so we were not afraid of being overlooked. We did not lose any -time in examining the chests. With the tools which we had brought -with us we opened them, one by one, and treated them as we had treated -those others in the old chapel. It was evident to us that the Count -was not at present in the house, and we proceeded to search for any of -his effects. -After a cursory glance at the rest of the rooms, from basement to -attic, we came to the conclusion that the dining room contained any -effects which might belong to the Count. And so we proceeded to -minutely examine them. They lay in a sort of orderly disorder on the -great dining room table. -There were title deeds of the Piccadilly house in a great bundle, -deeds of the purchase of the houses at Mile End and Bermondsey, -notepaper, envelopes, and pens and ink. All were covered up in thin -wrapping paper to keep them from the dust. There were also a clothes -brush, a brush and comb, and a jug and basin. The latter containing -dirty water which was reddened as if with blood. Last of all was a -little heap of keys of all sorts and sizes, probably those belonging -to the other houses. -When we had examined this last find, Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris -taking accurate notes of the various addresses of the houses in the -East and the South, took with them the keys in a great bunch, and set -out to destroy the boxes in these places. The rest of us are, with -what patience we can, waiting their return, or the coming of the -Count. -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.The time seemed terribly long whilst we were waiting for -the coming of Godalming and Quincey Morris. The Professor tried to -keep our minds active by using them all the time. I could see his -beneficent purpose, by the side glances which he threw from time to -time at Harker. The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery that is -appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happylooking man, with -strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. -Today he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well -with the hollow burning eyes and griefwritten lines of his face. His -energy is still intact. In fact, he is like a living flame. This may -yet be his salvation, for if all go well, it will tide him over the -despairing period. He will then, in a kind of way, wake again to the -realities of life. Poor fellow, I thought my own trouble was bad -enough, but his . . . -The Professor knows this well enough, and is doing his best to keep -his mind active. What he has been saying was, under the -circumstances, of absorbing interest. So well as I can remember, here -it is -"I have studied, over and over again since they came into my hands, -all the papers relating to this monster, and the more I have studied, -the greater seems the necessity to utterly stamp him out. All through -there are signs of his advance. Not only of his power, but of his -knowledge of it. As I learned from the researches of my friend -Arminius of BudaPesth, he was in life a most wonderful man. Soldier, -statesman, and alchemistwhich latter was the highest development of -the science knowledge of his time. He had a mighty brain, a learning -beyond compare, and a heart that knew no fear and no remorse. He -dared even to attend the Scholomance, and there was no branch of -knowledge of his time that he did not essay. -"Well, in him the brain powers survived the physical death. Though it -would seem that memory was not all complete. In some faculties of -mind he has been, and is, only a child. But he is growing, and some -things that were childish at the first are now of man's stature. He -is experimenting, and doing it well. And if it had not been that we -have crossed his path he would be yet, he may be yet if we fail, the -father or furtherer of a new order of beings, whose road must lead -through Death, not Life." -Harker groaned and said, "And this is all arrayed against my darling -But how is he experimenting? The knowledge may help us to defeat -him" -"He has all along, since his coming, been trying his power, slowly but -surely. That big childbrain of his is working. Well for us, it is -as yet a childbrain. For had he dared, at the first, to attempt -certain things he would long ago have been beyond our power. However, -he means to succeed, and a man who has centuries before him can afford -to wait and to go slow. Festina lente may well be his motto." -"I fail to understand," said Harker wearily. "Oh, do be more plain to -me Perhaps grief and trouble are dulling my brain." -The Professor laid his hand tenderly on his shoulder as he spoke, "Ah, -my child, I will be plain. Do you not see how, of late, this monster -has been creeping into knowledge experimentally. How he has been -making use of the zoophagous patient to effect his entry into friend -John's home. For your Vampire, though in all afterwards he can come -when and how he will, must at the first make entry only when asked -thereto by an inmate. But these are not his most important -experiments. Do we not see how at the first all these so great boxes -were moved by others. He knew not then but that must be so. But all -the time that so great childbrain of his was growing, and he began to -consider whether he might not himself move the box. So he began to -help. And then, when he found that this be all right, he try to move -them all alone. And so he progress, and he scatter these graves of -him. And none but he know where they are hidden. -"He may have intend to bury them deep in the ground. So that only he -use them in the night, or at such time as he can change his form, they -do him equal well, and none may know these are his hiding place But, -my child, do not despair, this knowledge came to him just too late -Already all of his lairs but one be sterilize as for him. And before -the sunset this shall be so. Then he have no place where he can move -and hide. I delayed this morning that so we might be sure. Is there -not more at stake for us than for him? Then why not be more careful -than him? By my clock it is one hour and already, if all be well, -friend Arthur and Quincey are on their way to us. Today is our day, -and we must go sure, if slow, and lose no chance. See There are -five of us when those absent ones return." -Whilst we were speaking we were startled by a knock at the hall door, -the double postman's knock of the telegraph boy. We all moved out to -the hall with one impulse, and Van Helsing, holding up his hand to us -to keep silence, stepped to the door and opened it. The boy handed in -a dispatch. The Professor closed the door again, and after looking at -the direction, opened it and read aloud. -"Look out for D. He has just now, , come from Carfax -hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seems to be -going the round and may want to see you Mina." -There was a pause, broken by Jonathan Harker's voice, "Now, God be -thanked, we shall soon meet" -Van Helsing turned to him quickly and said, "God will act in His own -way and time. Do not fear, and do not rejoice as yet. For what we -wish for at the moment may be our own undoings." -"I care for nothing now," he answered hotly, "except to wipe out this -brute from the face of creation. I would sell my soul to do it" -"Oh, hush, hush, my child" said Van Helsing. "God does not purchase -souls in this wise, and the Devil, though he may purchase, does not -keep faith. But God is merciful and just, and knows your pain and -your devotion to that dear Madam Mina. Think you, how her pain would -be doubled, did she but hear your wild words. Do not fear any of us, -we are all devoted to this cause, and today shall see the end. The -time is coming for action. Today this Vampire is limit to the powers -of man, and till sunset he may not change. It will take him time to -arrive here, see it is twenty minutes past one, and there are yet some -times before he can hither come, be he never so quick. What we must -hope for is that my Lord Arthur and Quincey arrive first." -About half an hour after we had received Mrs. Harker's telegram, there -came a quiet, resolute knock at the hall door. It was just an -ordinary knock, such as is given hourly by thousands of gentlemen, but -it made the Professor's heart and mine beat loudly. We looked at each -other, and together moved out into the hall. We each held ready to -use our various armaments, the spiritual in the left hand, the mortal -in the right. Van Helsing pulled back the latch, and holding the door -half open, stood back, having both hands ready for action. The -gladness of our hearts must have shown upon our faces when on the -step, close to the door, we saw Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris. -They came quickly in and closed the door behind them, the former -saying, as they moved along the hall -"It is all right. We found both places. Six boxes in each and we -destroyed them all." -"Destroyed?" asked the Professor. -"For him" We were silent for a minute, and then Quincey said, -"There's nothing to do but to wait here. If, however, he doesn't turn -up by five o'clock, we must start off. For it won't do to leave Mrs. -Harker alone after sunset." -"He will be here before long now," said Van Helsing, who had been -consulting his pocketbook. "Nota bene, in Madam's telegram he went -south from Carfax. That means he went to cross the river, and he -could only do so at slack of tide, which should be something before -one o'clock. That he went south has a meaning for us. He is as yet -only suspicious, and he went from Carfax first to the place where he -would suspect interference least. You must have been at Bermondsey -only a short time before him. That he is not here already shows that -he went to Mile End next. This took him some time, for he would then -have to be carried over the river in some way. Believe me, my -friends, we shall not have long to wait now. We should have ready -some plan of attack, so that we may throw away no chance. Hush, there -is no time now. Have all your arms Be ready" He held up a warning -hand as he spoke, for we all could hear a key softly inserted in the -lock of the hall door. -I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the way in which a -dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunting parties and -adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had always -been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I had been -accustomed to obey him implicitly. Now, the old habit seemed to be -renewed instinctively. With a swift glance around the room, he at -once laid out our plan of attack, and without speaking a word, with a -gesture, placed us each in position. Van Helsing, Harker, and I were -just behind the door, so that when it was opened the Professor could -guard it whilst we two stepped between the incomer and the door. -Godalming behind and Quincey in front stood just out of sight ready to -move in front of the window. We waited in a suspense that made the -seconds pass with nightmare slowness. The slow, careful steps came -along the hall. The Count was evidently prepared for some surprise, -at least he feared it. -Suddenly with a single bound he leaped into the room. Winning a way -past us before any of us could raise a hand to stay him. There was -something so pantherlike in the movement, something so unhuman, that -it seemed to sober us all from the shock of his coming. The first to -act was Harker, who with a quick movement, threw himself before the -door leading into the room in the front of the house. As the Count -saw us, a horrible sort of snarl passed over his face, showing the -eyeteeth long and pointed. But the evil smile as quickly passed into -a cold stare of lionlike disdain. His expression again changed as, -with a single impulse, we all advanced upon him. It was a pity that -we had not some better organized plan of attack, for even at the -moment I wondered what we were to do. I did not myself know whether -our lethal weapons would avail us anything. -Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his great -Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The blow was a -powerful one only the diabolical quickness of the Count's leap back -saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had shorn through -his heart. As it was, the point just cut the cloth of his coat, -making a wide gap whence a bundle of bank notes and a stream -of gold fell out. The expression of the Count's face was so hellish, -that for a moment I feared for Harker, though I saw him throw the -terrible knife aloft again for another stroke. Instinctively I moved -forward with a protective impulse, holding the Crucifix and Wafer in -my left hand. I felt a mighty power fly along my arm, and it was -without surprise that I saw the monster cower back before a similar -movement made spontaneously by each one of us. It would be impossible -to describe the expression of hate and baffled malignity, of anger and -hellish rage, which came over the Count's face. His waxen hue became -greenishyellow by the contrast of his burning eyes, and the red scar -on the forehead showed on the pallid skin like a palpitating wound. -The next instant, with a sinuous dive he swept under Harker's arm, ere -his blow could fall, and grasping a handful of the money from the -floor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the window. Amid the -crash and glitter of the falling glass, he tumbled into the flagged -area below. Through the sound of the shivering glass I could hear the -"ting" of the gold, as some of the sovereigns fell on the flagging. -We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground. He, rushing up -the steps, crossed the flagged yard, and pushed open the stable door. -There he turned and spoke to us. -"You think to baffle me, you with your pale faces all in a row, like -sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you You -think you have left me without a place to rest, but I have more. My -revenge is just begun I spread it over centuries, and time is on my -side. Your girls that you all love are mine already. And through -them you and others shall yet be mine, my creatures, to do my bidding -and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah" -With a contemptuous sneer, he passed quickly through the door, and we -heard the rusty bolt creak as he fastened it behind him. A door -beyond opened and shut. The first of us to speak was the Professor. -Realizing the difficulty of following him through the stable, we moved -toward the hall. -"We have learnt something . . . much Notwithstanding his brave words, -he fears us. He fears time, he fears want For if not, why he hurry -so? His very tone betray him, or my ears deceive. Why take that -money? You follow quick. You are hunters of the wild beast, and -understand it so. For me, I make sure that nothing here may be of use -to him, if so that he returns." -As he spoke he put the money remaining in his pocket, took the title -deeds in the bundle as Harker had left them, and swept the remaining -things into the open fireplace, where he set fire to them with a -match. -Godalming and Morris had rushed out into the yard, and Harker had -lowered himself from the window to follow the Count. He had, however, -bolted the stable door, and by the time they had forced it open there -was no sign of him. Van Helsing and I tried to make inquiry at the -back of the house. But the mews was deserted and no one had seen him -depart. -It was now late in the afternoon, and sunset was not far off. We had -to recognize that our game was up. With heavy hearts we agreed with -the Professor when he said, "Let us go back to Madam Mina. Poor, poor -dear Madam Mina. All we can do just now is done, and we can there, at -least, protect her. But we need not despair. There is but one more -earth box, and we must try to find it. When that is done all may yet -be well." -I could see that he spoke as bravely as he could to comfort Harker. -The poor fellow was quite broken down, now and again he gave a low -groan which he could not suppress. He was thinking of his wife. -With sad hearts we came back to my house, where we found Mrs. Harker -waiting us, with an appearance of cheerfulness which did honour to her -bravery and unselfishness. When she saw our faces, her own became as -pale as death. For a second or two her eyes were closed as if she -were in secret prayer. -And then she said cheerfully, "I can never thank you all enough. Oh, -my poor darling" -As she spoke, she took her husband's grey head in her hands and kissed -it. -"Lay your poor head here and rest it. All will yet be well, dear God -will protect us if He so will it in His good intent." The poor fellow -groaned. There was no place for words in his sublime misery. -We had a sort of perfunctory supper together, and I think it cheered -us all up somewhat. It was, perhaps, the mere animal heat of food to -hungry people, for none of us had eaten anything since breakfast, or -the sense of companionship may have helped us, but anyhow we were all -less miserable, and saw the morrow as not altogether without hope. -True to our promise, we told Mrs. Harker everything which had passed. -And although she grew snowy white at times when danger had seemed to -threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion to her was -manifested, she listened bravely and with calmness. When we came to -the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so recklessly, she clung -to her husband's arm, and held it tight as though her clinging could -protect him from any harm that might come. She said nothing, however, -till the narration was all done, and matters had been brought up to -the present time. -Then without letting go her husband's hand she stood up amongst us and -spoke. Oh, that I could give any idea of the scene. Of that sweet, -sweet, good, good woman in all the radiant beauty of her youth and -animation, with the red scar on her forehead, of which she was -conscious, and which we saw with grinding of our teeth, remembering -whence and how it came. Her loving kindness against our grim hate. -Her tender faith against all our fears and doubting. And we, knowing -that so far as symbols went, she with all her goodness and purity and -faith, was outcast from God. -"Jonathan," she said, and the word sounded like music on her lips it -was so full of love and tenderness, "Jonathan dear, and you all my -true, true friends, I want you to bear something in mind through all -this dreadful time. I know that you must fight. That you must -destroy even as you destroyed the false Lucy so that the true Lucy -might live hereafter. But it is not a work of hate. That poor soul -who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all. Just -think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyed in his worser -part that his better part may have spiritual immortality. You must be -pitiful to him, too, though it may not hold your hands from his -destruction." -As she spoke I could see her husband's face darken and draw together, -as though the passion in him were shriveling his being to its core. -Instinctively the clasp on his wife's hand grew closer, till his -knuckles looked white. She did not flinch from the pain which I knew -she must have suffered, but looked at him with eyes that were more -appealing than ever. -As she stopped speaking he leaped to his feet, almost tearing his hand -from hers as he spoke. -"May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that -earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond it I could send -his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do it" -"Oh, hush Oh, hush in the name of the good God. Don't say such -things, Jonathan, my husband, or you will crush me with fear and -horror. Just think, my dear . . . I have been thinking all this long, -long day of it . . . that . . . perhaps . . . some day . . . I, too, may -need such pity, and that some other like you, and with equal cause for -anger, may deny it to me Oh, my husband My husband, indeed I would -have spared you such a thought had there been another way. But I pray -that God may not have treasured your wild words, except as the -heartbroken wail of a very loving and sorely stricken man. Oh, God, -let these poor white hairs go in evidence of what he has suffered, who -all his life has done no wrong, and on whom so many sorrows have -come." -We men were all in tears now. There was no resisting them, and we -wept openly. She wept, too, to see that her sweeter counsels had -prevailed. Her husband flung himself on his knees beside her, and -putting his arms round her, hid his face in the folds of her dress. -Van Helsing beckoned to us and we stole out of the room, leaving the -two loving hearts alone with their God. -Before they retired the Professor fixed up the room against any coming -of the Vampire, and assured Mrs. Harker that she might rest in peace. -She tried to school herself to the belief, and manifestly for her -husband's sake, tried to seem content. It was a brave struggle, and -was, I think and believe, not without its reward. Van Helsing had -placed at hand a bell which either of them was to sound in case of any -emergency. When they had retired, Quincey, Godalming, and I arranged -that we should sit up, dividing the night between us, and watch over -the safety of the poor stricken lady. The first watch falls to -Quincey, so the rest of us shall be off to bed as soon as we can. -Godalming has already turned in, for his is the second watch. Now -that my work is done I, too, shall go to bed. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, close to midnight.I thought yesterday would never end. -There was over me a yearning for sleep, in some sort of blind belief -that to wake would be to find things changed, and that any change must -now be for the better. Before we parted, we discussed what our next -step was to be, but we could arrive at no result. All we knew was -that one earth box remained, and that the Count alone knew where it -was. If he chooses to lie hidden, he may baffle us for years. And in -the meantime, the thought is too horrible, I dare not think of it even -now. This I know, that if ever there was a woman who was all -perfection, that one is my poor wronged darling. I loved her a -thousand times more for her sweet pity of last night, a pity that made -my own hate of the monster seem despicable. Surely God will not -permit the world to be the poorer by the loss of such a creature. This -is hope to me. We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our -only anchor. Thank God Mina is sleeping, and sleeping without -dreams. I fear what her dreams might be like, with such terrible -memories to ground them in. She has not been so calm, within my -seeing, since the sunset. Then, for a while, there came over her face -a repose which was like spring after the blasts of March. I thought -at the time that it was the softness of the red sunset on her face, -but somehow now I think it has a deeper meaning. I am not sleepy -myself, though I am weary . . . weary to death. However, I must try -to sleep. For there is tomorrow to think of, and there is no rest for -me until . . . -LaterI must have fallen asleep, for I was awakened by Mina, who was -sitting up in bed, with a startled look on her face. I could see -easily, for we did not leave the room in darkness. She had placed a -warning hand over my mouth, and now she whispered in my ear, "Hush -There is someone in the corridor" I got up softly, and crossing the -room, gently opened the door. -Just outside, stretched on a mattress, lay Mr. Morris, wide awake. He -raised a warning hand for silence as he whispered to me, "Hush Go -back to bed. It is all right. One of us will be here all night. We -don't mean to take any chances" -His look and gesture forbade discussion, so I came back and told Mina. -She sighed and positively a shadow of a smile stole over her poor, -pale face as she put her arms round me and said softly, "Oh, thank God -for good brave men" With a sigh she sank back again to sleep. I -write this now as I am not sleepy, though I must try again. - October, morning.Once again during the night I was wakened by -Mina. This time we had all had a good sleep, for the grey of the -coming dawn was making the windows into sharp oblongs, and the gas -flame was like a speck rather than a disc of light. -She said to me hurriedly, "Go, call the Professor. I want to see him -at once." -"Why?" I asked. -"I have an idea. I suppose it must have come in the night, and -matured without my knowing it. He must hypnotize me before the dawn, -and then I shall be able to speak. Go quick, dearest, the time is -getting close." -I went to the door. Dr. Seward was resting on the mattress, and -seeing me, he sprang to his feet. -"Is anything wrong?" he asked, in alarm. -"No," I replied. "But Mina wants to see Dr. Van Helsing at once." -"I will go," he said, and hurried into the Professor's room. -Two or three minutes later Van Helsing was in the room in his dressing -gown, and Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming were with Dr. Seward at the -door asking questions. When the Professor saw Mina a smile, a -positive smile ousted the anxiety of his face. -He rubbed his hands as he said, "Oh, my dear Madam Mina, this is -indeed a change. See Friend Jonathan, we have got our dear Madam -Mina, as of old, back to us today" Then turning to her, he said -cheerfully, "And what am I to do for you? For at this hour you do not -want me for nothing." -"I want you to hypnotize me" she said. "Do it before the dawn, for I -feel that then I can speak, and speak freely. Be quick, for the time -is short" Without a word he motioned her to sit up in bed. -Looking fixedly at her, he commenced to make passes in front of her, -from over the top of her head downward, with each hand in turn. Mina -gazed at him fixedly for a few minutes, during which my own heart beat -like a trip hammer, for I felt that some crisis was at hand. -Gradually her eyes closed, and she sat, stock still. Only by the -gentle heaving of her bosom could one know that she was alive. The -Professor made a few more passes and then stopped, and I could see -that his forehead was covered with great beads of perspiration. Mina -opened her eyes, but she did not seem the same woman. There was a -faraway look in her eyes, and her voice had a sad dreaminess which -was new to me. Raising his hand to impose silence, the Professor -motioned to me to bring the others in. They came on tiptoe, closing -the door behind them, and stood at the foot of the bed, looking on. -Mina appeared not to see them. The stillness was broken by Van -Helsing's voice speaking in a low level tone which would not break the -current of her thoughts. -"Where are you?" The answer came in a neutral way. -"I do not know. Sleep has no place it can call its own." For several -minutes there was silence. Mina sat rigid, and the Professor stood -staring at her fixedly. -The rest of us hardly dared to breathe. The room was growing lighter. -Without taking his eyes from Mina's face, Dr. Van Helsing motioned me -to pull up the blind. I did so, and the day seemed just upon us. A -red streak shot up, and a rosy light seemed to diffuse itself through -the room. On the instant the Professor spoke again. -"Where are you now?" -The answer came dreamily, but with intention. It were as though she -were interpreting something. I have heard her use the same tone when -reading her shorthand notes. -"I do not know. It is all strange to me" -"What do you see?" -"I can see nothing. It is all dark." -"What do you hear?" I could detect the strain in the Professor's -patient voice. -"The lapping of water. It is gurgling by, and little waves leap. I -can hear them on the outside." -"Then you are on a ship?'" -We all looked at each other, trying to glean something each from the -other. We were afraid to think. -The answer came quick, "Oh, yes" -"What else do you hear?" -"The sound of men stamping overhead as they run about. There is the -creaking of a chain, and the loud tinkle as the check of the capstan -falls into the ratchet." -"What are you doing?" -"I am still, oh so still. It is like death" The voice faded away -into a deep breath as of one sleeping, and the open eyes closed again. -By this time the sun had risen, and we were all in the full light of -day. Dr. Van Helsing placed his hands on Mina's shoulders, and laid -her head down softly on her pillow. She lay like a sleeping child for -a few moments, and then, with a long sigh, awoke and stared in wonder -to see us all around her. -"Have I been talking in my sleep?" was all she said. She seemed, -however, to know the situation without telling, though she was eager -to know what she had told. The Professor repeated the conversation, -and she said, "Then there is not a moment to lose. It may not be yet -too late" -Mr. Morris and Lord Godalming started for the door but the Professor's -calm voice called them back. -"Stay, my friends. That ship, wherever it was, was weighing anchor at -the moment in your so great Port of London. Which of them is it that -you seek? God be thanked that we have once again a clue, though -whither it may lead us we know not. We have been blind somewhat. -Blind after the manner of men, since we can look back we see what we -might have seen looking forward if we had been able to see what we -might have seen Alas, but that sentence is a puddle, is it not? We -can know now what was in the Count's mind, when he seize that money, -though Jonathan's so fierce knife put him in the danger that even he -dread. He meant escape. Hear me, ESCAPE He saw that with but one -earth box left, and a pack of men following like dogs after a fox, -this London was no place for him. He have take his last earth box on -board a ship, and he leave the land. He think to escape, but no We -follow him. Tally Ho As friend Arthur would say when he put on his -red frock Our old fox is wily. Oh So wily, and we must follow -with wile. I, too, am wily and I think his mind in a little while. -In meantime we may rest and in peace, for there are between us which -he do not want to pass, and which he could not if he would. Unless -the ship were to touch the land, and then only at full or slack tide. -See, and the sun is just rose, and all day to sunset is us. Let us -take bath, and dress, and have breakfast which we all need, and which -we can eat comfortably since he be not in the same land with us." -Mina looked at him appealingly as she asked, "But why need we seek him -further, when he is gone away from us?" -He took her hand and patted it as he replied, "Ask me nothing as yet. -When we have breakfast, then I answer all questions." He would say no -more, and we separated to dress. -After breakfast Mina repeated her question. He looked at her gravely -for a minute and then said sorrowfully, "Because my dear, dear Madam -Mina, now more than ever must we find him even if we have to follow -him to the jaws of Hell" -She grew paler as she asked faintly, "Why?" -"Because," he answered solemnly, "he can live for centuries, and you -are but mortal woman. Time is now to be dreaded, since once he put -that mark upon your throat." -I was just in time to catch her as she fell forward in a faint. -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S PHONOGRAPH DIARY -SPOKEN BY VAN HELSING -This to Jonathan Harker. -You are to stay with your dear Madam Mina. We shall go to make our -search, if I can call it so, for it is not search but knowing, and we -seek confirmation only. But do you stay and take care of her today. -This is your best and most holiest office. This day nothing can find -him here. -Let me tell you that so you will know what we four know already, for I -have tell them. He, our enemy, have gone away. He have gone back to -his Castle in Transylvania. I know it so well, as if a great hand of -fire wrote it on the wall. He have prepare for this in some way, and -that last earth box was ready to ship somewheres. For this he took -the money. For this he hurry at the last, lest we catch him before -the sun go down. It was his last hope, save that he might hide in the -tomb that he think poor Miss Lucy, being as he thought like him, keep -open to him. But there was not of time. When that fail he make -straight for his last resource, his last earthwork I might say did I -wish double entente. He is clever, oh so clever He know that his -game here was finish. And so he decide he go back home. He find ship -going by the route he came, and he go in it. -We go off now to find what ship, and whither bound. When we have -discover that, we come back and tell you all. Then we will comfort -you and poor Madam Mina with new hope. For it will be hope when you -think it over, that all is not lost. This very creature that we -pursue, he take hundreds of years to get so far as London. And yet in -one day, when we know of the disposal of him we drive him out. He is -finite, though he is powerful to do much harm and suffers not as we -do. But we are strong, each in our purpose, and we are all more -strong together. Take heart afresh, dear husband of Madam Mina. This -battle is but begun and in the end we shall win. So sure as that God -sits on high to watch over His children. Therefore be of much comfort -till we return. -VAN HELSING. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.When I read to Mina, Van Helsing's message in the -phonograph, the poor girl brightened up considerably. Already the -certainty that the Count is out of the country has given her comfort. -And comfort is strength to her. For my own part, now that his -horrible danger is not face to face with us, it seems almost -impossible to believe in it. Even my own terrible experiences in -Castle Dracula seem like a long forgotten dream. Here in the crisp -autumn air in the bright sunlight. -Alas How can I disbelieve In the midst of my thought my eye fell -on the red scar on my poor darling's white forehead. Whilst that -lasts, there can be no disbelief. Mina and I fear to be idle, so we -have been over all the diaries again and again. Somehow, although the -reality seem greater each time, the pain and the fear seem less. There -is something of a guiding purpose manifest throughout, which is -comforting. Mina says that perhaps we are the instruments of ultimate -good. It may be I shall try to think as she does. We have never -spoken to each other yet of the future. It is better to wait till we -see the Professor and the others after their investigations. -The day is running by more quickly than I ever thought a day could run -for me again. It is now three o'clock. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, P.M.Our meeting for report. Present Professor Van -Helsing, Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, Mr. Quincey Morris, Jonathan -Harker, Mina Harker. -Dr. Van Helsing described what steps were taken during the day to -discover on what boat and whither bound Count Dracula made his escape. -"As I knew that he wanted to get back to Transylvania, I felt sure -that he must go by the Danube mouth, or by somewhere in the Black Sea, -since by that way he come. It was a dreary blank that was before us. -Omme ignotum pro magnifico, and so with heavy hearts we start to find -what ships leave for the Black Sea last night. He was in sailing -ship, since Madam Mina tell of sails being set. These not so -important as to go in your list of the shipping in the Times, and so -we go, by suggestion of Lord Godalming, to your Lloyd's, where are -note of all ships that sail, however so small. There we find that -only one Black Sea bound ship go out with the tide. She is the -Czarina Catherine, and she sail from Doolittle's Wharf for Varna, and -thence to other ports and up the Danube. 'So' said I, 'this is the -ship whereon is the Count.' So off we go to Doolittle's Wharf, and -there we find a man in an office. From him we inquire of the goings -of the Czarina Catherine. He swear much, and he red face and loud of -voice, but he good fellow all the same. And when Quincey give him -something from his pocket which crackle as he roll it up, and put it -in a so small bag which he have hid deep in his clothing, he still -better fellow and humble servant to us. He come with us, and ask many -men who are rough and hot. These be better fellows too when they have -been no more thirsty. They say much of blood and bloom, and of others -which I comprehend not, though I guess what they mean. But -nevertheless they tell us all things which we want to know. -"They make known to us among them, how last afternoon at about five -o'clock comes a man so hurry. A tall man, thin and pale, with high -nose and teeth so white, and eyes that seem to be burning. That he be -all in black, except that he have a hat of straw which suit not him or -the time. That he scatter his money in making quick inquiry as to -what ship sails for the Black Sea and for where. Some took him to the -office and then to the ship, where he will not go aboard but halt at -shore end of gangplank, and ask that the captain come to him. The -captain come, when told that he will be pay well, and though he swear -much at the first he agree to term. Then the thin man go and some one -tell him where horse and cart can be hired. He go there and soon he -come again, himself driving cart on which a great box. This he -himself lift down, though it take several to put it on truck for the -ship. He give much talk to captain as to how and where his box is to -be place. But the captain like it not and swear at him in many -tongues, and tell him that if he like he can come and see where it -shall be. But he say 'no,' that he come not yet, for that he have -much to do. Whereupon the captain tell him that he had better be -quick, with blood, for that his ship will leave the place, of blood, -before the turn of the tide, with blood. Then the thin man smile and -say that of course he must go when he think fit, but he will be -surprise if he go quite so soon. The captain swear again, polyglot, -and the thin man make him bow, and thank him, and say that he will so -far intrude on his kindness as to come aboard before the sailing. -Final the captain, more red than ever, and in more tongues, tell him -that he doesn't want no Frenchmen, with bloom upon them and also with -blood, in his ship, with blood on her also. And so, after asking -where he might purchase ship forms, he departed. -"No one knew where he went 'or bloomin' well cared' as they said, for -they had something else to think of, well with blood again. For it -soon became apparent to all that the Czarina Catherine would not sail -as was expected. A thin mist began to creep up from the river, and it -grew, and grew. Till soon a dense fog enveloped the ship and all -around her. The captain swore polyglot, very polyglot, polyglot with -bloom and blood, but he could do nothing. The water rose and rose, -and he began to fear that he would lose the tide altogether. He was -in no friendly mood, when just at full tide, the thin man came up the -gangplank again and asked to see where his box had been stowed. Then -the captain replied that he wished that he and his box, old and with -much bloom and blood, were in hell. But the thin man did not be -offend, and went down with the mate and saw where it was place, and -came up and stood awhile on deck in fog. He must have come off by -himself, for none notice him. Indeed they thought not of him, for -soon the fog begin to melt away, and all was clear again. My friends -of the thirst and the language that was of bloom and blood laughed, as -they told how the captain's swears exceeded even his usual polyglot, -and was more than ever full of picturesque, when on questioning other -mariners who were on movement up and down the river that hour, he -found that few of them had seen any of fog at all, except where it lay -round the wharf. However, the ship went out on the ebb tide, and was -doubtless by morning far down the river mouth. She was then, when -they told us, well out to sea. -"And so, my dear Madam Mina, it is that we have to rest for a time, -for our enemy is on the sea, with the fog at his command, on his way -to the Danube mouth. To sail a ship takes time, go she never so -quick. And when we start to go on land more quick, and we meet him -there. Our best hope is to come on him when in the box between -sunrise and sunset. For then he can make no struggle, and we may deal -with him as we should. There are days for us, in which we can make -ready our plan. We know all about where he go. For we have seen the -owner of the ship, who have shown us invoices and all papers that can -be. The box we seek is to be landed in Varna, and to be given to an -agent, one Ristics who will there present his credentials. And so our -merchant friend will have done his part. When he ask if there be any -wrong, for that so, he can telegraph and have inquiry made at Varna, -we say 'no,' for what is to be done is not for police or of the -customs. It must be done by us alone and in our own way." -When Dr. Van Helsing had done speaking, I asked him if he were certain -that the Count had remained on board the ship. He replied, "We have -the best proof of that, your own evidence, when in the hypnotic trance -this morning." -I asked him again if it were really necessary that they should pursue -the Count, for oh I dread Jonathan leaving me, and I know that he -would surely go if the others went. He answered in growing passion, -at first quietly. As he went on, however, he grew more angry and more -forceful, till in the end we could not but see wherein was at least -some of that personal dominance which made him so long a master -amongst men. -"Yes, it is necessary, necessary, necessary For your sake in the -first, and then for the sake of humanity. This monster has done much -harm already, in the narrow scope where he find himself, and in the -short time when as yet he was only as a body groping his so small -measure in darkness and not knowing. All this have I told these -others. You, my dear Madam Mina, will learn it in the phonograph of -my friend John, or in that of your husband. I have told them how the -measure of leaving his own barren land, barren of peoples, and coming -to a new land where life of man teems till they are like the multitude -of standing corn, was the work of centuries. Were another of the -Undead, like him, to try to do what he has done, perhaps not all the -centuries of the world that have been, or that will be, could aid him. -With this one, all the forces of nature that are occult and deep and -strong must have worked together in some wonderous way. The very -place, where he have been alive, Undead for all these centuries, is -full of strangeness of the geologic and chemical world. There are -deep caverns and fissures that reach none know whither. There have -been volcanoes, some of whose openings still send out waters of -strange properties, and gases that kill or make to vivify. Doubtless, -there is something magnetic or electric in some of these combinations -of occult forces which work for physical life in strange way, and in -himself were from the first some great qualities. In a hard and -warlike time he was celebrate that he have more iron nerve, more -subtle brain, more braver heart, than any man. In him some vital -principle have in strange way found their utmost. And as his body -keep strong and grow and thrive, so his brain grow too. All this -without that diabolic aid which is surely to him. For it have to -yield to the powers that come from, and are, symbolic of good. And -now this is what he is to us. He have infect you, oh forgive me, my -dear, that I must say such, but it is for good of you that I speak. He -infect you in such wise, that even if he do no more, you have only to -live, to live in your own old, sweet way, and so in time, death, which -is of man's common lot and with God's sanction, shall make you like to -him. This must not be We have sworn together that it must not. -Thus are we ministers of God's own wish. That the world, and men for -whom His Son die, will not be given over to monsters, whose very -existence would defame Him. He have allowed us to redeem one soul -already, and we go out as the old knights of the Cross to redeem -more. Like them we shall travel towards the sunrise. And like them, -if we fall, we fall in good cause." -He paused and I said, "But will not the Count take his rebuff wisely? -Since he has been driven from England, will he not avoid it, as a -tiger does the village from which he has been hunted?" -"Aha" he said, "your simile of the tiger good, for me, and I shall -adopt him. Your maneater, as they of India call the tiger who has -once tasted blood of the human, care no more for the other prey, but -prowl unceasing till he get him. This that we hunt from our village -is a tiger, too, a maneater, and he never cease to prowl. Nay, in -himself he is not one to retire and stay afar. In his life, his -living life, he go over the Turkey frontier and attack his enemy on -his own ground. He be beaten back, but did he stay? No He come -again, and again, and again. Look at his persistence and endurance. -With the childbrain that was to him he have long since conceive the -idea of coming to a great city. What does he do? He find out the -place of all the world most of promise for him. Then he deliberately -set himself down to prepare for the task. He find in patience just -how is his strength, and what are his powers. He study new tongues. -He learn new social life, new environment of old ways, the politics, -the law, the finance, the science, the habit of a new land and a new -people who have come to be since he was. His glimpse that he have -had, whet his appetite only and enkeen his desire. Nay, it help him -to grow as to his brain. For it all prove to him how right he was at -the first in his surmises. He have done this alone, all alone From -a ruin tomb in a forgotten land. What more may he not do when the -greater world of thought is open to him. He that can smile at death, -as we know him. Who can flourish in the midst of diseases that kill -off whole peoples. Oh If such an one was to come from God, and not -the Devil, what a force for good might he not be in this old world of -ours. But we are pledged to set the world free. Our toil must be in -silence, and our efforts all in secret. For in this enlightened age, -when men believe not even what they see, the doubting of wise men -would be his greatest strength. It would be at once his sheath and -his armor, and his weapons to destroy us, his enemies, who are willing -to peril even our own souls for the safety of one we love. For the -good of mankind, and for the honour and glory of God." -After a general discussion it was determined that for tonight nothing -be definitely settled. That we should all sleep on the facts, and try -to think out the proper conclusions. Tomorrow, at breakfast, we are -to meet again, and after making our conclusions known to one another, -we shall decide on some definite cause of action . . . -I feel a wonderful peace and rest tonight. It is as if some haunting -presence were removed from me. Perhaps . . . -My surmise was not finished, could not be, for I caught sight in the -mirror of the red mark upon my forehead, and I knew that I was still -unclean. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.We all arose early, and I think that sleep did much for -each and all of us. When we met at early breakfast there was more -general cheerfulness than any of us had ever expected to experience -again. -It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. -Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way, even -by death, and we fly back to first principles of hope and enjoyment. -More than once as we sat around the table, my eyes opened in wonder -whether the whole of the past days had not been a dream. It was only -when I caught sight of the red blotch on Mrs. Harker's forehead that I -was brought back to reality. Even now, when I am gravely revolving -the matter, it is almost impossible to realize that the cause of all -our trouble is still existent. Even Mrs. Harker seems to lose sight -of her trouble for whole spells. It is only now and again, when -something recalls it to her mind, that she thinks of her terrible -scar. We are to meet here in my study in half an hour and decide on -our course of action. I see only one immediate difficulty, I know it -by instinct rather than reason. We shall all have to speak frankly. -And yet I fear that in some mysterious way poor Mrs. Harker's tongue -is tied. I know that she forms conclusions of her own, and from all -that has been I can guess how brilliant and how true they must be. -But she will not, or cannot, give them utterance. I have mentioned -this to Van Helsing, and he and I are to talk it over when we are -alone. I suppose it is some of that horrid poison which has got into -her veins beginning to work. The Count had his own purposes when he -gave her what Van Helsing called "the Vampire's baptism of blood." -Well, there may be a poison that distills itself out of good things. -In an age when the existence of ptomaines is a mystery we should not -wonder at anything One thing I know, that if my instinct be true -regarding poor Mrs. Harker's silences, then there is a terrible -difficulty, an unknown danger, in the work before us. The same power -that compels her silence may compel her speech. I dare not think -further, for so I should in my thoughts dishonour a noble woman -Later.When the Professor came in, we talked over the state of -things. I could see that he had something on his mind, which he -wanted to say, but felt some hesitancy about broaching the subject. -After beating about the bush a little, he said, "Friend John, there is -something that you and I must talk of alone, just at the first at any -rate. Later, we may have to take the others into our confidence." -Then he stopped, so I waited. He went on, "Madam Mina, our poor, dear -Madam Mina is changing." -A cold shiver ran through me to find my worst fears thus endorsed. -Van Helsing continued. -"With the sad experience of Miss Lucy, we must this time be warned -before things go too far. Our task is now in reality more difficult -than ever, and this new trouble makes every hour of the direst -importance. I can see the characteristics of the vampire coming in -her face. It is now but very, very slight. But it is to be seen if -we have eyes to notice without prejudge. Her teeth are sharper, and -at times her eyes are more hard. But these are not all, there is to -her the silence now often, as so it was with Miss Lucy. She did not -speak, even when she wrote that which she wished to be known later. -Now my fear is this. If it be that she can, by our hypnotic trance, -tell what the Count see and hear, is it not more true that he who have -hypnotize her first, and who have drink of her very blood and make her -drink of his, should if he will, compel her mind to disclose to him -that which she know?" -I nodded acquiescence. He went on, "Then, what we must do is to -prevent this. We must keep her ignorant of our intent, and so she -cannot tell what she know not. This is a painful task Oh, so -painful that it heartbreak me to think of it, but it must be. When -today we meet, I must tell her that for reason which we will not to -speak she must not more be of our council, but be simply guarded by -us." -He wiped his forehead, which had broken out in profuse perspiration at -the thought of the pain which he might have to inflict upon the poor -soul already so tortured. I knew that it would be some sort of -comfort to him if I told him that I also had come to the same -conclusion. For at any rate it would take away the pain of doubt. I -told him, and the effect was as I expected. -It is now close to the time of our general gathering. Van Helsing has -gone away to prepare for the meeting, and his painful part of it. I -really believe his purpose is to be able to pray alone. -Later.At the very outset of our meeting a great personal relief was -experienced by both Van Helsing and myself. Mrs. Harker had sent a -message by her husband to say that she would not join us at present, -as she thought it better that we should be free to discuss our -movements without her presence to embarrass us. The Professor and I -looked at each other for an instant, and somehow we both seemed -relieved. For my own part, I thought that if Mrs. Harker realized the -danger herself, it was much pain as well as much danger averted. -Under the circumstances we agreed, by a questioning look and answer, -with finger on lip, to preserve silence in our suspicions, until we -should have been able to confer alone again. We went at once into our -Plan of Campaign. -Van Helsing roughly put the facts before us first, "The Czarina -Catherine left the Thames yesterday morning. It will take her at the -quickest speed she has ever made at least three weeks to reach Varna. -But we can travel overland to the same place in three days. Now, if -we allow for two days less for the ship's voyage, owing to such -weather influences as we know that the Count can bring to bear, and if -we allow a whole day and night for any delays which may occur to us, -then we have a margin of nearly two weeks. -"Thus, in order to be quite safe, we must leave here on th at -latest. Then we shall at any rate be in Varna a day before the ship -arrives, and able to make such preparations as may be necessary. Of -course we shall all go armed, armed against evil things, spiritual as -well as physical." -Here Quincey Morris added, "I understand that the Count comes from a -wolf country, and it may be that he shall get there before us. I -propose that we add Winchesters to our armament. I have a kind of -belief in a Winchester when there is any trouble of that sort around. -Do you remember, Art, when we had the pack after us at Tobolsk? What -wouldn't we have given then for a repeater apiece" -"Good" said Van Helsing, "Winchesters it shall be. Quincey's head is -level at times, but most so when there is to hunt, metaphor be more -dishonour to science than wolves be of danger to man. In the meantime -we can do nothing here. And as I think that Varna is not familiar to -any of us, why not go there more soon? It is as long to wait here as -there. Tonight and tomorrow we can get ready, and then if all be -well, we four can set out on our journey." -"We four?" said Harker interrogatively, looking from one to another of -us. -"Of course" answered the Professor quickly. "You must remain to take -care of your so sweet wife" -Harker was silent for awhile and then said in a hollow voice, "Let us -talk of that part of it in the morning. I want to consult with Mina." -I thought that now was the time for Van Helsing to warn him not to -disclose our plan to her, but he took no notice. I looked at him -significantly and coughed. For answer he put his finger to his lips -and turned away. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, afternoon.For some time after our meeting this morning I -could not think. The new phases of things leave my mind in a state of -wonder which allows no room for active thought. Mina's determination -not to take any part in the discussion set me thinking. And as I -could not argue the matter with her, I could only guess. I am as far -as ever from a solution now. The way the others received it, too -puzzled me. The last time we talked of the subject we agreed that -there was to be no more concealment of anything amongst us. Mina is -sleeping now, calmly and sweetly like a little child. Her lips are -curved and her face beams with happiness. Thank God, there are such -moments still for her. -Later.How strange it all is. I sat watching Mina's happy sleep, and -I came as near to being happy myself as I suppose I shall ever be. As -the evening drew on, and the earth took its shadows from the sun -sinking lower, the silence of the room grew more and more solemn to -me. -All at once Mina opened her eyes, and looking at me tenderly said, -"Jonathan, I want you to promise me something on your word of honour. -A promise made to me, but made holily in God's hearing, and not to be -broken though I should go down on my knees and implore you with bitter -tears. Quick, you must make it to me at once." -"Mina," I said, "a promise like that, I cannot make at once. I may -have no right to make it." -"But, dear one," she said, with such spiritual intensity that her eyes -were like pole stars, "it is I who wish it. And it is not for myself. -You can ask Dr. Van Helsing if I am not right. If he disagrees you -may do as you will. Nay, more if you all agree, later you are -absolved from the promise." -"I promise" I said, and for a moment she looked supremely happy. -Though to me all happiness for her was denied by the red scar on her -forehead. -She said, "Promise me that you will not tell me anything of the plans -formed for the campaign against the Count. Not by word, or inference, -or implication, not at any time whilst this remains to me" And she -solemnly pointed to the scar. I saw that she was in earnest, and said -solemnly, "I promise" and as I said it I felt that from that instant -a door had been shut between us. -Later, midnight.Mina has been bright and cheerful all the evening. -So much so that all the rest seemed to take courage, as if infected -somewhat with her gaiety. As a result even I myself felt as if the -pall of gloom which weighs us down were somewhat lifted. We all -retired early. Mina is now sleeping like a little child. It is -wonderful thing that her faculty of sleep remains to her in the midst -of her terrible trouble. Thank God for it, for then at least she can -forget her care. Perhaps her example may affect me as her gaiety did -tonight. I shall try it. Oh For a dreamless sleep. - October, morning.Another surprise. Mina woke me early, about the -same time as yesterday, and asked me to bring Dr. Van Helsing. I -thought that it was another occasion for hypnotism, and without -question went for the Professor. He had evidently expected some such -call, for I found him dressed in his room. His door was ajar, so that -he could hear the opening of the door of our room. He came at once. -As he passed into the room, he asked Mina if the others might come, -too. -"No," she said quite simply, "it will not be necessary. You can tell -them just as well. I must go with you on your journey." -Dr. Van Helsing was as startled as I was. After a moment's pause he -asked, "But why?" -"You must take me with you. I am safer with you, and you shall be -safer, too." -"But why, dear Madam Mina? You know that your safety is our solemnest -duty. We go into danger, to which you are, or may be, more liable -than any of us from . . . from circumstances . . . things that have -been." He paused embarrassed. -As she replied, she raised her finger and pointed to her forehead. "I -know. That is why I must go. I can tell you now, whilst the sun is -coming up. I may not be able again. I know that when the Count wills -me I must go. I know that if he tells me to come in secret, I must by -wile. By any device to hoodwink, even Jonathan." God saw the look -that she turned on me as she spoke, and if there be indeed a Recording -Angel that look is noted to her everlasting honour. I could only -clasp her hand. I could not speak. My emotion was too great for even -the relief of tears. -She went on. "You men are brave and strong. You are strong in your -numbers, for you can defy that which would break down the human -endurance of one who had to guard alone. Besides, I may be of -service, since you can hypnotize me and so learn that which even I -myself do not know." -Dr. Van Helsing said gravely, "Madam Mina, you are, as always, most -wise. You shall with us come. And together we shall do that which we -go forth to achieve." -When he had spoken, Mina's long spell of silence made me look at her. -She had fallen back on her pillow asleep. She did not even wake when -I had pulled up the blind and let in the sunlight which flooded the -room. Van Helsing motioned to me to come with him quietly. We went -to his room, and within a minute Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, and Mr. -Morris were with us also. -He told them what Mina had said, and went on. "In the morning we -shall leave for Varna. We have now to deal with a new factor, Madam -Mina. Oh, but her soul is true. It is to her an agony to tell us so -much as she has done. But it is most right, and we are warned in -time. There must be no chance lost, and in Varna we must be ready to -act the instant when that ship arrives." -"What shall we do exactly?" asked Mr. Morris laconically. -The Professor paused before replying, "We shall at the first board -that ship. Then, when we have identified the box, we shall place a -branch of the wild rose on it. This we shall fasten, for when it is -there none can emerge, so that at least says the superstition. And to -superstition must we trust at the first. It was man's faith in the -early, and it have its root in faith still. Then, when we get the -opportunity that we seek, when none are near to see, we shall open the -box, and . . . and all will be well." -"I shall not wait for any opportunity," said Morris. "When I see the -box I shall open it and destroy the monster, though there were a -thousand men looking on, and if I am to be wiped out for it the next -moment" I grasped his hand instinctively and found it as firm as a -piece of steel. I think he understood my look. I hope he did. -"Good boy," said Dr. Van Helsing. "Brave boy. Quincey is all man. -God bless him for it. My child, believe me none of us shall lag -behind or pause from any fear. I do but say what we may do . . . what -we must do. But, indeed, indeed we cannot say what we may do. There -are so many things which may happen, and their ways and their ends are -so various that until the moment we may not say. We shall all be -armed, in all ways. And when the time for the end has come, our -effort shall not be lack. Now let us today put all our affairs in -order. Let all things which touch on others dear to us, and who on us -depend, be complete. For none of us can tell what, or when, or how, -the end may be. As for me, my own affairs are regulate, and as I have -nothing else to do, I shall go make arrangements for the travel. I -shall have all tickets and so forth for our journey." -There was nothing further to be said, and we parted. I shall now -settle up all my affairs of earth, and be ready for whatever may come. -Later.It is done. My will is made, and all complete. Mina if she -survive is my sole heir. If it should not be so, then the others who -have been so good to us shall have remainder. -It is now drawing towards the sunset. Mina's uneasiness calls my -attention to it. I am sure that there is something on her mind which -the time of exact sunset will reveal. These occasions are becoming -harrowing times for us all. For each sunrise and sunset opens up some -new danger, some new pain, which however, may in God's will be means -to a good end. I write all these things in the diary since my darling -must not hear them now. But if it may be that she can see them again, -they shall be ready. She is calling to me. -CHAPTER -DR SEWARD'S DIARY - October, Evening.Jonathan Harker has asked me to note this, as he -says he is hardly equal to the task, and he wants an exact record -kept. -I think that none of us were surprised when we were asked to see Mrs. -Harker a little before the time of sunset. We have of late come to -understand that sunrise and sunset are to her times of peculiar -freedom. When her old self can be manifest without any controlling -force subduing or restraining her, or inciting her to action. This -mood or condition begins some half hour or more before actual sunrise -or sunset, and lasts till either the sun is high, or whilst the clouds -are still aglow with the rays streaming above the horizon. At first -there is a sort of negative condition, as if some tie were loosened, -and then the absolute freedom quickly follows. When, however, the -freedom ceases the change back or relapse comes quickly, preceded -only by a spell of warning silence. -Tonight, when we met, she was somewhat constrained, and bore all the -signs of an internal struggle. I put it down myself to her making a -violent effort at the earliest instant she could do so. -A very few minutes, however, gave her complete control of herself. -Then, motioning her husband to sit beside her on the sofa where she -was half reclining, she made the rest of us bring chairs up close. -Taking her husband's hand in hers, she began, "We are all here -together in freedom, for perhaps the last time I know that you will -always be with me to the end." This was to her husband whose hand had, -as we could see, tightened upon her. "In the morning we go out upon -our task, and God alone knows what may be in store for any of us. You -are going to be so good to me to take me with you. I know that all -that brave earnest men can do for a poor weak woman, whose soul -perhaps is lost, no, no, not yet, but is at any rate at stake, you -will do. But you must remember that I am not as you are. There is a -poison in my blood, in my soul, which may destroy me, which must -destroy me, unless some relief comes to us. Oh, my friends, you know -as well as I do, that my soul is at stake. And though I know there is -one way out for me, you must not and I must not take it" She looked -appealingly to us all in turn, beginning and ending with her husband. -"What is that way?" asked Van Helsing in a hoarse voice. "What is -that way, which we must not, may not, take?" -"That I may die now, either by my own hand or that of another, before -the greater evil is entirely wrought. I know, and you know, that were -I once dead you could and would set free my immortal spirit, even as -you did my poor Lucy's. Were death, or the fear of death, the only -thing that stood in the way I would not shrink to die here now, amidst -the friends who love me. But death is not all. I cannot believe that -to die in such a case, when there is hope before us and a bitter task -to be done, is God's will. Therefore, I on my part, give up here the -certainty of eternal rest, and go out into the dark where may be the -blackest things that the world or the nether world holds" -We were all silent, for we knew instinctively that this was only a -prelude. The faces of the others were set, and Harker's grew ashen -grey. Perhaps, he guessed better than any of us what was coming. -She continued, "This is what I can give into the hotchpot." I could -not but note the quaint legal phrase which she used in such a place, -and with all seriousness. "What will each of you give? Your lives I -know," she went on quickly, "that is easy for brave men. Your lives -are God's, and you can give them back to Him, but what will you give -to me?" She looked again questioningly, but this time avoided her -husband's face. Quincey seemed to understand, he nodded, and her face -lit up. "Then I shall tell you plainly what I want, for there must be -no doubtful matter in this connection between us now. You must -promise me, one and all, even you, my beloved husband, that should the -time come, you will kill me." -"What is that time?" The voice was Quincey's, but it was low and -strained. -"When you shall be convinced that I am so changed that it is better -that I die that I may live. When I am thus dead in the flesh, then -you will, without a moment's delay, drive a stake through me and cut -off my head, or do whatever else may be wanting to give me rest" -Quincey was the first to rise after the pause. He knelt down before -her and taking her hand in his said solemnly, "I'm only a rough -fellow, who hasn't, perhaps, lived as a man should to win such a -distinction, but I swear to you by all that I hold sacred and dear -that, should the time ever come, I shall not flinch from the duty that -you have set us. And I promise you, too, that I shall make all -certain, for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that the time has -come" -"My true friend" was all she could say amid her fastfalling tears, -as bending over, she kissed his hand. -"I swear the same, my dear Madam Mina" said Van Helsing. "And I" -said Lord Godalming, each of them in turn kneeling to her to take the -oath. I followed, myself. -Then her husband turned to her waneyed and with a greenish pallor -which subdued the snowy whiteness of his hair, and asked, "And must I, -too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?" -"You too, my dearest," she said, with infinite yearning of pity in her -voice and eyes. "You must not shrink. You are nearest and dearest -and all the world to me. Our souls are knit into one, for all life -and all time. Think, dear, that there have been times when brave men -have killed their wives and their womenkind, to keep them from falling -into the hands of the enemy. Their hands did not falter any the more -because those that they loved implored them to slay them. It is men's -duty towards those whom they love, in such times of sore trial And -oh, my dear, if it is to be that I must meet death at any hand, let it -be at the hand of him that loves me best. Dr. Van Helsing, I have not -forgotten your mercy in poor Lucy's case to him who loved." She -stopped with a flying blush, and changed her phrase, "to him who had -best right to give her peace. If that time shall come again, I look -to you to make it a happy memory of my husband's life that it was his -loving hand which set me free from the awful thrall upon me." -"Again I swear" came the Professor's resonant voice. -Mrs. Harker smiled, positively smiled, as with a sigh of relief she -leaned back and said, "And now one word of warning, a warning which -you must never forget. This time, if it ever come, may come quickly -and unexpectedly, and in such case you must lose no time in using your -opportunity. At such a time I myself might be . . . nay If the time -ever come, shall be, leagued with your enemy against you. -"One more request," she became very solemn as she said this, "it is -not vital and necessary like the other, but I want you to do one thing -for me, if you will." -We all acquiesced, but no one spoke. There was no need to speak. -"I want you to read the Burial Service." She was interrupted by a -deep groan from her husband. Taking his hand in hers, she held it -over her heart, and continued. "You must read it over me some day. -Whatever may be the issue of all this fearful state of things, it will -be a sweet thought to all or some of us. You, my dearest, will I hope -read it, for then it will be in your voice in my memory forever, come -what may" -"But oh, my dear one," he pleaded, "death is afar off from you." -"Nay," she said, holding up a warning hand. "I am deeper in death at -this moment than if the weight of an earthly grave lay heavy upon me" -"Oh, my wife, must I read it?" he said, before he began. -"It would comfort me, my husband" was all she said, and he began to -read when she had got the book ready. -How can I, how could anyone, tell of that strange scene, its -solemnity, its gloom, its sadness, its horror, and withal, its -sweetness. Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but a travesty of -bitter truth in anything holy or emotional, would have been melted to -the heart had he seen that little group of loving and devoted friends -kneeling round that stricken and sorrowing lady or heard the tender -passion of her husband's voice, as in tones so broken and emotional -that often he had to pause, he read the simple and beautiful service -from the Burial of the Dead. I cannot go on . . . words . . . and -vvoices . . . ffail mme -She was right in her instinct. Strange as it was, bizarre as it may -hereafter seem even to us who felt its potent influence at the time, -it comforted us much. And the silence, which showed Mrs. Harker's -coming relapse from her freedom of soul, did not seem so full of -despair to any of us as we had dreaded. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, Varna.We left Charing Cross on the morning of the th, -got to Paris the same night, and took the places secured for us in the -Orient Express. We traveled night and day, arriving here at about -five o'clock. Lord Godalming went to the Consulate to see if any -telegram had arrived for him, whilst the rest of us came on to this -hotel, "the Odessus." The journey may have had incidents. I was, -however, too eager to get on, to care for them. Until the Czarina -Catherine comes into port there will be no interest for me in anything -in the wide world. Thank God Mina is well, and looks to be getting -stronger. Her colour is coming back. She sleeps a great deal. -Throughout the journey she slept nearly all the time. Before sunrise -and sunset, however, she is very wakeful and alert. And it has become -a habit for Van Helsing to hypnotize her at such times. At first, -some effort was needed, and he had to make many passes. But now, she -seems to yield at once, as if by habit, and scarcely any action is -needed. He seems to have power at these particular moments to simply -will, and her thoughts obey him. He always asks her what she can see -and hear. -She answers to the first, "Nothing, all is dark." -And to the second, "I can hear the waves lapping against the ship, and -the water rushing by. Canvas and cordage strain and masts and yards -creak. The wind is high . . . I can hear it in the shrouds, and the -bow throws back the foam." -It is evident that the Czarina Catherine is still at sea, hastening on -her way to Varna. Lord Godalming has just returned. He had four -telegrams, one each day since we started, and all to the same effect. -That the Czarina Catherine had not been reported to Lloyd's from -anywhere. He had arranged before leaving London that his agent should -send him every day a telegram saying if the ship had been reported. -He was to have a message even if she were not reported, so that he -might be sure that there was a watch being kept at the other end of -the wire. -We had dinner and went to bed early. Tomorrow we are to see the Vice -Consul, and to arrange, if we can, about getting on board the ship as -soon as she arrives. Van Helsing says that our chance will be to get -on the boat between sunrise and sunset. The Count, even if he takes -the form of a bat, cannot cross the running water of his own volition, -and so cannot leave the ship. As he dare not change to man's form -without suspicion, which he evidently wishes to avoid, he must remain -in the box. If, then, we can come on board after sunrise, he is at -our mercy, for we can open the box and make sure of him, as we did of -poor Lucy, before he wakes. What mercy he shall get from us all will -not count for much. We think that we shall not have much trouble with -officials or the seamen. Thank God This is the country where -bribery can do anything, and we are well supplied with money. We have -only to make sure that the ship cannot come into port between sunset -and sunrise without our being warned, and we shall be safe. Judge -Moneybag will settle this case, I think - October.Mina's report still the same. Lapping waves and rushing -water, darkness and favouring winds. We are evidently in good time, -and when we hear of the Czarina Catherine we shall be ready. As she -must pass the Dardanelles we are sure to have some report. - October.Everything is pretty well fixed now, I think, to welcome -the Count on his return from his tour. Godalming told the shippers -that he fancied that the box sent aboard might contain something -stolen from a friend of his, and got a half consent that he might open -it at his own risk. The owner gave him a paper telling the Captain to -give him every facility in doing whatever he chose on board the ship, -and also a similar authorization to his agent at Varna. We have seen -the agent, who was much impressed with Godalming's kindly manner to -him, and we are all satisfied that whatever he can do to aid our -wishes will be done. -We have already arranged what to do in case we get the box open. If -the Count is there, Van Helsing and Seward will cut off his head at -once and drive a stake through his heart. Morris and Godalming and I -shall prevent interference, even if we have to use the arms which we -shall have ready. The Professor says that if we can so treat the -Count's body, it will soon after fall into dust. In such case there -would be no evidence against us, in case any suspicion of murder were -aroused. But even if it were not, we should stand or fall by our act, -and perhaps some day this very script may be evidence to come between -some of us and a rope. For myself, I should take the chance only too -thankfully if it were to come. We mean to leave no stone unturned to -carry out our intent. We have arranged with certain officials that -the instant the Czarina Catherine is seen, we are to be informed by a -special messenger. - October.A whole week of waiting. Daily telegrams to Godalming, -but only the same story. "Not yet reported." Mina's morning and -evening hypnotic answer is unvaried. Lapping waves, rushing water, -and creaking masts. -TELEGRAM, OCTOBER TH RUFUS SMITH, LLOYD'S, LONDON, -TO LORD GODALMING, CARE OF H. B. M. VICE CONSUL, VARNA -"Czarina Catherine reported this morning from Dardanelles." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.How I miss my phonograph To write a diary with a pen is -irksome to me But Van Helsing says I must. We were all wild with -excitement yesterday when Godalming got his telegram from Lloyd's. I -know now what men feel in battle when the call to action is heard. -Mrs. Harker, alone of our party, did not show any signs of emotion. -After all, it is not strange that she did not, for we took special -care not to let her know anything about it, and we all tried not to -show any excitement when we were in her presence. In old days she -would, I am sure, have noticed, no matter how we might have tried to -conceal it. But in this way she is greatly changed during the past -three weeks. The lethargy grows upon her, and though she seems strong -and well, and is getting back some of her colour, Van Helsing and I are -not satisfied. We talk of her often. We have not, however, said a -word to the others. It would break poor Harker's heart, certainly his -nerve, if he knew that we had even a suspicion on the subject. Van -Helsing examines, he tells me, her teeth very carefully, whilst she is -in the hypnotic condition, for he says that so long as they do not -begin to sharpen there is no active danger of a change in her. If -this change should come, it would be necessary to take steps We both -know what those steps would have to be, though we do not mention our -thoughts to each other. We should neither of us shrink from the task, -awful though it be to contemplate. "Euthanasia" is an excellent and a -comforting word I am grateful to whoever invented it. -It is only about hours' sail from the Dardanelles to here, at the -rate the Czarina Catherine has come from London. She should therefore -arrive some time in the morning, but as she cannot possibly get in -before noon, we are all about to retire early. We shall get up at one -o'clock, so as to be ready. - October, Noon.No news yet of the ship's arrival. Mrs. Harker's -hypnotic report this morning was the same as usual, so it is possible -that we may get news at any moment. We men are all in a fever of -excitement, except Harker, who is calm. His hands are cold as ice, -and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great Ghoorka -knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a bad lookout -for the Count if the edge of that "Kukri" ever touches his throat, -driven by that stern, icecold hand -Van Helsing and I were a little alarmed about Mrs. Harker today. -About noon she got into a sort of lethargy which we did not like. -Although we kept silence to the others, we were neither of us happy -about it. She had been restless all the morning, so that we were at -first glad to know that she was sleeping. When, however, her husband -mentioned casually that she was sleeping so soundly that he could not -wake her, we went to her room to see for ourselves. She was breathing -naturally and looked so well and peaceful that we agreed that the -sleep was better for her than anything else. Poor girl, she has so -much to forget that it is no wonder that sleep, if it brings oblivion -to her, does her good. -Later.Our opinion was justified, for when after a refreshing sleep -of some hours she woke up, she seemed brighter and better than she had -been for days. At sunset she made the usual hypnotic report. -Wherever he may be in the Black Sea, the Count is hurrying to his -destination. To his doom, I trust - October.Another day and no tidings of the Czarina Catherine. She -ought to be here by now. That she is still journeying somewhere is -apparent, for Mrs. Harker's hypnotic report at sunrise was still the -same. It is possible that the vessel may be lying by, at times, for -fog. Some of the steamers which came in last evening reported patches -of fog both to north and south of the port. We must continue our -watching, as the ship may now be signalled any moment. - October, Noon.Most strange. No news yet of the ship we wait for. -Mrs. Harker reported last night and this morning as usual. "Lapping -waves and rushing water," though she added that "the waves were very -faint." The telegrams from London have been the same, "no further -report." Van Helsing is terribly anxious, and told me just now that he -fears the Count is escaping us. -He added significantly, "I did not like that lethargy of Madam Mina's. -Souls and memories can do strange things during trance." I was about -to ask him more, but Harker just then came in, and he held up a -warning hand. We must try tonight at sunset to make her speak more -fully when in her hypnotic state. - October.Telegram. Rufus Smith, London, to Lord Godalming, care -H. B. M. Vice Consul, Varna -"Czarina Catherine reported entering Galatz at one o'clock today." -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.When the telegram came announcing the arrival in Galatz I -do not think it was such a shock to any of us as might have been -expected. True, we did not know whence, or how, or when, the bolt -would come. But I think we all expected that something strange would -happen. The day of arrival at Varna made us individually satisfied -that things would not be just as we had expected. We only waited to -learn where the change would occur. None the less, however, it was a -surprise. I suppose that nature works on such a hopeful basis that we -believe against ourselves that things will be as they ought to be, not -as we should know that they will be. Transcendentalism is a beacon to -the angels, even if it be a willo'thewisp to man. Van Helsing -raised his hand over his head for a moment, as though in remonstrance -with the Almighty. But he said not a word, and in a few seconds stood -up with his face sternly set. -Lord Godalming grew very pale, and sat breathing heavily. I was -myself half stunned and looked in wonder at one after another. -Quincey Morris tightened his belt with that quick movement which I -knew so well. In our old wandering days it meant "action." Mrs. -Harker grew ghastly white, so that the scar on her forehead seemed to -burn, but she folded her hands meekly and looked up in prayer. Harker -smiled, actually smiled, the dark, bitter smile of one who is without -hope, but at the same time his action belied his words, for his hands -instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri knife and rested -there. -"When does the next train start for Galatz?" said Van Helsing to us -generally. -"At tomorrow morning" We all started, for the answer came from -Mrs. Harker. -"How on earth do you know?" said Art. -"You forget, or perhaps you do not know, though Jonathan does and so -does Dr. Van Helsing, that I am the train fiend. At home in Exeter I -always used to make up the time tables, so as to be helpful to my -husband. I found it so useful sometimes, that I always make a study -of the time tables now. I knew that if anything were to take us to -Castle Dracula we should go by Galatz, or at any rate through -Bucharest, so I learned the times very carefully. Unhappily there are -not many to learn, as the only train tomorrow leaves as I say." -"Wonderful woman" murmured the Professor. -"Can't we get a special?" asked Lord Godalming. -Van Helsing shook his head, "I fear not. This land is very different -from yours or mine. Even if we did have a special, it would probably -not arrive as soon as our regular train. Moreover, we have something -to prepare. We must think. Now let us organize. You, friend Arthur, -go to the train and get the tickets and arrange that all be ready for -us to go in the morning. Do you, friend Jonathan, go to the agent of -the ship and get from him letters to the agent in Galatz, with -authority to make a search of the ship just as it was here. Quincey -Morris, you see the Vice Consul, and get his aid with his fellow in -Galatz and all he can do to make our way smooth, so that no times be -lost when over the Danube. John will stay with Madam Mina and me, and -we shall consult. For so if time be long you may be delayed. And it -will not matter when the sun set, since I am here with Madam to make -report." -"And I," said Mrs. Harker brightly, and more like her old self than -she had been for many a long day, "shall try to be of use in all ways, -and shall think and write for you as I used to do. Something is -shifting from me in some strange way, and I feel freer than I have -been of late" -The three younger men looked happier at the moment as they seemed to -realize the significance of her words. But Van Helsing and I, turning -to each other, met each a grave and troubled glance. We said nothing -at the time, however. -When the three men had gone out to their tasks Van Helsing asked Mrs. -Harker to look up the copy of the diaries and find him the part of -Harker's journal at the Castle. She went away to get it. -When the door was shut upon her he said to me, "We mean the same -Speak out" -"Here is some change. It is a hope that makes me sick, for it may -deceive us." -"Quite so. Do you know why I asked her to get the manuscript?" -"No" said I, "unless it was to get an opportunity of seeing me -alone." -"You are in part right, friend John, but only in part. I want to tell -you something. And oh, my friend, I am taking a great, a terrible, -risk. But I believe it is right. In the moment when Madam Mina said -those words that arrest both our understanding, an inspiration came to -me. In the trance of three days ago the Count sent her his spirit to -read her mind. Or more like he took her to see him in his earth box -in the ship with water rushing, just as it go free at rise and set of -sun. He learn then that we are here, for she have more to tell in her -open life with eyes to see ears to hear than he, shut as he is, in his -coffin box. Now he make his most effort to escape us. At present he -want her not. -"He is sure with his so great knowledge that she will come at his -call. But he cut her off, take her, as he can do, out of his own -power, that so she come not to him. Ah There I have hope that our -man brains that have been of man so long and that have not lost the -grace of God, will come higher than his childbrain that lie in his -tomb for centuries, that grow not yet to our stature, and that do only -work selfish and therefore small. Here comes Madam Mina. Not a word -to her of her trance She knows it not, and it would overwhelm her -and make despair just when we want all her hope, all her courage, when -most we want all her great brain which is trained like man's brain, -but is of sweet woman and have a special power which the Count give -her, and which he may not take away altogether, though he think not -so. Hush Let me speak, and you shall learn. Oh, John, my friend, -we are in awful straits. I fear, as I never feared before. We can -only trust the good God. Silence Here she comes" -I thought that the Professor was going to break down and have -hysterics, just as he had when Lucy died, but with a great effort he -controlled himself and was at perfect nervous poise when Mrs. Harker -tripped into the room, bright and happy looking and, in the doing of -work, seemingly forgetful of her misery. As she came in, she handed a -number of sheets of typewriting to Van Helsing. He looked over them -gravely, his face brightening up as he read. -Then holding the pages between his finger and thumb he said, "Friend -John, to you with so much experience already, and you too, dear Madam -Mina, that are young, here is a lesson. Do not fear ever to think. A -half thought has been buzzing often in my brain, but I fear to let him -loose his wings. Here now, with more knowledge, I go back to where -that half thought come from and I find that he be no half thought at -all. That be a whole thought, though so young that he is not yet -strong to use his little wings. Nay, like the 'Ugly Duck' of my -friend Hans Andersen, he be no duck thought at all, but a big swan -thought that sail nobly on big wings, when the time come for him to -try them. See I read here what Jonathan have written. -"That other of his race who, in a later age, again and again, brought -his forces over The Great River into Turkey Land, who when he was -beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had to come -alone from the bloody field where his troops were being slaughtered, -since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph. -"What does this tell us? Not much? No The Count's child thought -see nothing, therefore he speak so free. Your man thought see -nothing. My man thought see nothing, till just now. No But there -comes another word from some one who speak without thought because -she, too, know not what it mean, what it might mean. Just as there -are elements which rest, yet when in nature's course they move on -their way and they touch, the pouf And there comes a flash of light, -heaven wide, that blind and kill and destroy some. But that show up -all earth below for leagues and leagues. Is it not so? Well, I shall -explain. To begin, have you ever study the philosophy of crime? -'Yes' and 'No.' You, John, yes, for it is a study of insanity. You, -no, Madam Mina, for crime touch you not, not but once. Still, your -mind works true, and argues not a particulari ad universale. There is -this peculiarity in criminals. It is so constant, in all countries -and at all times, that even police, who know not much from philosophy, -come to know it empirically, that it is. That is to be empiric. The -criminal always work at one crime, that is the true criminal who seems -predestinate to crime, and who will of none other. This criminal has -not full man brain. He is clever and cunning and resourceful, but he -be not of man stature as to brain. He be of child brain in much. Now -this criminal of ours is predestinate to crime also. He, too, have -child brain, and it is of the child to do what he have done. The -little bird, the little fish, the little animal learn not by -principle, but empirically. And when he learn to do, then there is to -him the ground to start from to do more. 'Dos pou sto,' said -Archimedes. 'Give me a fulcrum, and I shall move the world' To do -once, is the fulcrum whereby child brain become man brain. And until -he have the purpose to do more, he continue to do the same again every -time, just as he have done before Oh, my dear, I see that your eyes -are opened, and that to you the lightning flash show all the leagues," -for Mrs. Harker began to clap her hands and her eyes sparkled. -He went on, "Now you shall speak. Tell us two dry men of science what -you see with those so bright eyes." He took her hand and held it -whilst he spoke. His finger and thumb closed on her pulse, as I -thought instinctively and unconsciously, as she spoke. -"The Count is a criminal and of criminal type. Nordau and Lombroso -would so classify him, and qua criminal he is of an imperfectly formed -mind. Thus, in a difficulty he has to seek resource in habit. His -past is a clue, and the one page of it that we know, and that from his -own lips, tells that once before, when in what Mr. Morris would call -a 'tight place,' he went back to his own country from the land he had -tried to invade, and thence, without losing purpose, prepared himself -for a new effort. He came again better equipped for his work, and -won. So he came to London to invade a new land. He was beaten, and -when all hope of success was lost, and his existence in danger, he -fled back over the sea to his home. Just as formerly he had fled back -over the Danube from Turkey Land." -"Good, good Oh, you so clever lady" said Van Helsing, -enthusiastically, as he stooped and kissed her hand. A moment later -he said to me, as calmly as though we had been having a sick room -consultation, "Seventytwo only, and in all this excitement. I have -hope." -Turning to her again, he said with keen expectation, "But go on. Go -on There is more to tell if you will. Be not afraid. John and I -know. I do in any case, and shall tell you if you are right. Speak, -without fear" -"I will try to. But you will forgive me if I seem too egotistical." -"Nay Fear not, you must be egotist, for it is of you that we think." -"Then, as he is criminal he is selfish. And as his intellect is small -and his action is based on selfishness, he confines himself to one -purpose. That purpose is remorseless. As he fled back over the -Danube, leaving his forces to be cut to pieces, so now he is intent on -being safe, careless of all. So his own selfishness frees my soul -somewhat from the terrible power which he acquired over me on that -dreadful night. I felt it Oh, I felt it Thank God, for His great -mercy My soul is freer than it has been since that awful hour. And -all that haunts me is a fear lest in some trance or dream he may have -used my knowledge for his ends." -The Professor stood up, "He has so used your mind, and by it he has -left us here in Varna, whilst the ship that carried him rushed through -enveloping fog up to Galatz, where, doubtless, he had made preparation -for escaping from us. But his child mind only saw so far. And it may -be that as ever is in God's Providence, the very thing that the evil -doer most reckoned on for his selfish good, turns out to be his -chiefest harm. The hunter is taken in his own snare, as the great -Psalmist says. For now that he think he is free from every trace of -us all, and that he has escaped us with so many hours to him, then his -selfish child brain will whisper him to sleep. He think, too, that as -he cut himself off from knowing your mind, there can be no knowledge -of him to you. There is where he fail That terrible baptism of -blood which he give you makes you free to go to him in spirit, as you -have as yet done in your times of freedom, when the sun rise and set. -At such times you go by my volition and not by his. And this power to -good of you and others, you have won from your suffering at his hands. -This is now all more precious that he know it not, and to guard -himself have even cut himself off from his knowledge of our where. -We, however, are not selfish, and we believe that God is with us -through all this blackness, and these many dark hours. We shall -follow him, and we shall not flinch, even if we peril ourselves that -we become like him. Friend John, this has been a great hour, and it -have done much to advance us on our way. You must be scribe and write -him all down, so that when the others return from their work you can -give it to them, then they shall know as we do." -And so I have written it whilst we wait their return, and Mrs. Harker -has written with the typewriter all since she brought the MS to us. -CHAPTER -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - October.This is written in the train from Varna to Galatz. Last -night we all assembled a little before the time of sunset. Each of us -had done his work as well as he could, so far as thought, and -endeavour, and opportunity go, we are prepared for the whole of our -journey, and for our work when we get to Galatz. When the usual time -came round Mrs. Harker prepared herself for her hypnotic effort, and -after a longer and more serious effort on the part of Van Helsing than -has been usually necessary, she sank into the trance. Usually she -speaks on a hint, but this time the Professor had to ask her -questions, and to ask them pretty resolutely, before we could learn -anything. At last her answer came. -"I can see nothing. We are still. There are no waves lapping, but -only a steady swirl of water softly running against the hawser. I can -hear men's voices calling, near and far, and the roll and creak of -oars in the rowlocks. A gun is fired somewhere, the echo of it seems -far away. There is tramping of feet overhead, and ropes and chains -are dragged along. What is this? There is a gleam of light. I can -feel the air blowing upon me." -Here she stopped. She had risen, as if impulsively, from where she -lay on the sofa, and raised both her hands, palms upwards, as if -lifting a weight. Van Helsing and I looked at each other with -understanding. Quincey raised his eyebrows slightly and looked at her -intently, whilst Harker's hand instinctively closed round the hilt of -his Kukri. There was a long pause. We all knew that the time when -she could speak was passing, but we felt that it was useless to say -anything. -Suddenly she sat up, and as she opened her eyes said sweetly, "Would -none of you like a cup of tea? You must all be so tired" -We could only make her happy, and so acqueisced. She bustled off to -get tea. When she had gone Van Helsing said, "You see, my friends. He -is close to land. He has left his earth chest. But he has yet to get -on shore. In the night he may lie hidden somewhere, but if he be not -carried on shore, or if the ship do not touch it, he cannot achieve -the land. In such case he can, if it be in the night, change his form -and jump or fly on shore, then, unless he be carried he cannot escape. -And if he be carried, then the customs men may discover what the box -contain. Thus, in fine, if he escape not on shore tonight, or before -dawn, there will be the whole day lost to him. We may then arrive in -time. For if he escape not at night we shall come on him in daytime, -boxed up and at our mercy. For he dare not be his true self, awake -and visible, lest he be discovered." -There was no more to be said, so we waited in patience until the dawn, -at which time we might learn more from Mrs. Harker. -Early this morning we listened, with breathless anxiety, for her -response in her trance. The hypnotic stage was even longer in coming -than before, and when it came the time remaining until full sunrise -was so short that we began to despair. Van Helsing seemed to throw -his whole soul into the effort. At last, in obedience to his will she -made reply. -"All is dark. I hear lapping water, level with me, and some creaking -as of wood on wood." She paused, and the red sun shot up. We must -wait till tonight. -And so it is that we are travelling towards Galatz in an agony of -expectation. We are due to arrive between two and three in the -morning. But already, at Bucharest, we are three hours late, so we -cannot possibly get in till well after sunup. Thus we shall have two -more hypnotic messages from Mrs. Harker Either or both may possibly -throw more light on what is happening. -Later.Sunset has come and gone. Fortunately it came at a time when -there was no distraction. For had it occurred whilst we were at a -station, we might not have secured the necessary calm and isolation. -Mrs. Harker yielded to the hypnotic influence even less readily than -this morning. I am in fear that her power of reading the Count's -sensations may die away, just when we want it most. It seems to me -that her imagination is beginning to work. Whilst she has been in the -trance hitherto she has confined herself to the simplest of facts. If -this goes on it may ultimately mislead us. If I thought that the -Count's power over her would die away equally with her power of -knowledge it would be a happy thought. But I am afraid that it may -not be so. -When she did speak, her words were enigmatical, "Something is going -out. I can feel it pass me like a cold wind. I can hear, far off, -confused sounds, as of men talking in strange tongues, fierce falling -water, and the howling of wolves." She stopped and a shudder ran -through her, increasing in intensity for a few seconds, till at the -end, she shook as though in a palsy. She said no more, even in answer -to the Professor's imperative questioning. When she woke from the -trance, she was cold, and exhausted, and languid, but her mind was all -alert. She could not remember anything, but asked what she had said. -When she was told, she pondered over it deeply for a long time and in -silence. - October, A.M.We are near Galatz now, and I may not have time to -write later. Sunrise this morning was anxiously looked for by us all. -Knowing of the increasing difficulty of procuring the hypnotic trance, -Van Helsing began his passes earlier than usual. They produced no -effect, however, until the regular time, when she yielded with a still -greater difficulty, only a minute before the sun rose. The Professor -lost no time in his questioning. -Her answer came with equal quickness, "All is dark. I hear water -swirling by, level with my ears, and the creaking of wood on wood. -Cattle low far off. There is another sound, a queer one like . . ." -She stopped and grew white, and whiter still. -"Go on, go on Speak, I command you" said Van Helsing in an agonized -voice. At the same time there was despair in his eyes, for the risen -sun was reddening even Mrs. Harker's pale face. She opened her eyes, -and we all started as she said, sweetly and seemingly with the utmost -unconcern. -"Oh, Professor, why ask me to do what you know I can't? I don't -remember anything." Then, seeing the look of amazement on our faces, -she said, turning from one to the other with a troubled look, "What -have I said? What have I done? I know nothing, only that I was lying -here, half asleep, and heard you say 'go on speak, I command you' It -seemed so funny to hear you order me about, as if I were a bad child" -"Oh, Madam Mina," he said, sadly, "it is proof, if proof be needed, of -how I love and honour you, when a word for your good, spoken more -earnest than ever, can seem so strange because it is to order her whom -I am proud to obey" -The whistles are sounding. We are nearing Galatz. We are on fire -with anxiety and eagerness. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.Mr. Morris took me to the hotel where our rooms had been -ordered by telegraph, he being the one who could best be spared, since -he does not speak any foreign language. The forces were distributed -much as they had been at Varna, except that Lord Godalming went to the -Vice Consul, as his rank might serve as an immediate guarantee of some -sort to the official, we being in extreme hurry. Jonathan and the two -doctors went to the shipping agent to learn particulars of the arrival -of the Czarina Catherine. -Later.Lord Godalming has returned. The Consul is away, and the Vice -Consul sick. So the routine work has been attended to by a clerk. He -was very obliging, and offered to do anything in his power. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.At nine o'clock Dr. Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, and I called -on Messrs. Mackenzie Steinkoff, the agents of the London firm of -Hapgood. They had received a wire from London, in answer to Lord -Godalming's telegraphed request, asking them to show us any civility -in their power. They were more than kind and courteous, and took us -at once on board the Czarina Catherine, which lay at anchor out in the -river harbor. There we saw the Captain, Donelson by name, who told us -of his voyage. He said that in all his life he had never had so -favourable a run. -"Man" he said, "but it made us afeard, for we expect it that we -should have to pay for it wi' some rare piece o' ill luck, so as to -keep up the average. It's no canny to run frae London to the Black -Sea wi' a wind ahint ye, as though the Deil himself were blawin' on -yer sail for his ain purpose. An' a' the time we could no speer a -thing. Gin we were nigh a ship, or a port, or a headland, a fog fell -on us and travelled wi' us, till when after it had lifted and we -looked out, the deil a thing could we see. We ran by Gibraltar wi' -oot bein' able to signal. An' til we came to the Dardanelles and had -to wait to get our permit to pass, we never were within hail o' -aught. At first I inclined to slack off sail and beat about till the -fog was lifted. But whiles, I thocht that if the Deil was minded to -get us into the Black Sea quick, he was like to do it whether we would -or no. If we had a quick voyage it would be no to our miscredit -wi' the owners, or no hurt to our traffic, an' the Old Mon who had -served his ain purpose wad be decently grateful to us for no hinderin' -him." -This mixture of simplicity and cunning, of superstition and commercial -reasoning, aroused Van Helsing, who said, "Mine friend, that Devil is -more clever than he is thought by some, and he know when he meet his -match" -The skipper was not displeased with the compliment, and went on, "When -we got past the Bosphorus the men began to grumble. Some o' them, the -Roumanians, came and asked me to heave overboard a big box which had -been put on board by a queer lookin' old man just before we had -started frae London. I had seen them speer at the fellow, and put out -their twa fingers when they saw him, to guard them against the evil -eye. Man but the supersteetion of foreigners is pairfectly -rideeculous I sent them aboot their business pretty quick, but as -just after a fog closed in on us I felt a wee bit as they did anent -something, though I wouldn't say it was again the big box. Well, on -we went, and as the fog didn't let up for five days I joost let the -wind carry us, for if the Deil wanted to get somewheres, well, he -would fetch it up a'reet. An' if he didn't, well, we'd keep a sharp -lookout anyhow. Sure eneuch, we had a fair way and deep water all the -time. And two days ago, when the mornin' sun came through the fog, we -found ourselves just in the river opposite Galatz. The Roumanians -were wild, and wanted me right or wrong to take out the box and fling -it in the river. I had to argy wi' them aboot it wi' a handspike. An' -when the last o' them rose off the deck wi' his head in his hand, I -had convinced them that, evil eye or no evil eye, the property and the -trust of my owners were better in my hands than in the river Danube. -They had, mind ye, taken the box on the deck ready to fling in, and as -it was marked Galatz via Varna, I thocht I'd let it lie till we -discharged in the port an' get rid o't althegither. We didn't do much -clearin' that day, an' had to remain the nicht at anchor. But in the -mornin', braw an' airly, an hour before sunup, a man came aboard wi' -an order, written to him from England, to receive a box marked for one -Count Dracula. Sure eneuch the matter was one ready to his hand. He -had his papers a' reet, an' glad I was to be rid o' the dam' thing, -for I was beginnin' masel' to feel uneasy at it. If the Deil did have -any luggage aboord the ship, I'm thinkin' it was nane ither than that -same" -"What was the name of the man who took it?" asked Dr. Van Helsing with -restrained eagerness. -"I'll be tellin' ye quick" he answered, and stepping down to his -cabin, produced a receipt signed "Immanuel Hildesheim." Burgenstrasse - was the address. We found out that this was all the Captain knew, -so with thanks we came away. -We found Hildesheim in his office, a Hebrew of rather the Adelphi -Theatre type, with a nose like a sheep, and a fez. His arguments were -pointed with specie, we doing the punctuation, and with a little -bargaining he told us what he knew. This turned out to be simple but -important. He had received a letter from Mr. de Ville of London, -telling him to receive, if possible before sunrise so as to avoid -customs, a box which would arrive at Galatz in the Czarina Catherine. -This he was to give in charge to a certain Petrof Skinsky, who dealt -with the Slovaks who traded down the river to the port. He had been -paid for his work by an English bank note, which had been duly cashed -for gold at the Danube International Bank. When Skinsky had come to -him, he had taken him to the ship and handed over the box, so as to -save porterage. That was all he knew. -We then sought for Skinsky, but were unable to find him. One of his -neighbors, who did not seem to bear him any affection, said that he -had gone away two days before, no one knew whither. This was -corroborated by his landlord, who had received by messenger the key of -the house together with the rent due, in English money. This had been -between ten and eleven o'clock last night. We were at a standstill -again. -Whilst we were talking one came running and breathlessly gasped out -that the body of Skinsky had been found inside the wall of the -churchyard of St. Peter, and that the throat had been torn open as if -by some wild animal. Those we had been speaking with ran off to see -the horror, the women crying out. "This is the work of a Slovak" We -hurried away lest we should have been in some way drawn into the -affair, and so detained. -As we came home we could arrive at no definite conclusion. We were -all convinced that the box was on its way, by water, to somewhere, but -where that might be we would have to discover. With heavy hearts we -came home to the hotel to Mina. -When we met together, the first thing was to consult as to taking Mina -again into our confidence. Things are getting desperate, and it is at -least a chance, though a hazardous one. As a preliminary step, I was -released from my promise to her. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, evening.They were so tired and worn out and dispirited -that there was nothing to be done till they had some rest, so I asked -them all to lie down for half an hour whilst I should enter everything -up to the moment. I feel so grateful to the man who invented the -"Traveller's" typewriter, and to Mr. Morris for getting this one for -me. I should have felt quite astray doing the work if I had to write -with a pen . . . -It is all done. Poor dear, dear Jonathan, what he must have suffered, -what he must be suffering now. He lies on the sofa hardly seeming to -breathe, and his whole body appears in collapse. His brows are knit. -His face is drawn with pain. Poor fellow, maybe he is thinking, and I -can see his face all wrinkled up with the concentration of his -thoughts. Oh if I could only help at all. I shall do what I can. -I have asked Dr. Van Helsing, and he has got me all the papers that I -have not yet seen. Whilst they are resting, I shall go over all -carefully, and perhaps I may arrive at some conclusion. I shall try -to follow the Professor's example, and think without prejudice on the -facts before me . . . -I do believe that under God's providence I have made a discovery. I -shall get the maps and look over them. -I am more than ever sure that I am right. My new conclusion is ready, -so I shall get our party together and read it. They can judge it. It -is well to be accurate, and every minute is precious. -MINA HARKER'S MEMORANDUM -ENTERED IN HER JOURNAL -Ground of inquiry.Count Dracula's problem is to get back -to his own place. -a He must be brought back by some one. This is evident -for had he power to move himself as he wished he could go -either as man, or wolf, or bat, or in some other way. He -evidently fears discovery or interference, in the state of -helplessness in which he must be, confined as he is between -dawn and sunset in his wooden box. -b How is he to be taken?Here a process of exclusions may -help us. By road, by rail, by water? -. By Road.There are endless difficulties, especially in -leaving the city. -x There are people. And people are curious, and -investigate. A hint, a surmise, a doubt as to what might -be in the box, would destroy him. -y There are, or there may be, customs and octroi officers -to pass. -z His pursuers might follow. This is his highest fear. -And in order to prevent his being betrayed he has repelled, -so far as he can, even his victim, me -. By Rail.There is no one in charge of the box. It -would have to take its chance of being delayed, and delay -would be fatal, with enemies on the track. True, he might -escape at night. But what would he be, if left in a strange -place with no refuge that he could fly to? This is not what he -intends, and he does not mean to risk it. -. By Water.Here is the safest way, in one respect, but -with most danger in another. On the water he is powerless -except at night. Even then he can only summon fog and storm and -snow and his wolves. But were he wrecked, the living water would -engulf him, helpless, and he would indeed be lost. He could have -the vessel drive to land, but if it were unfriendly land, wherein -he was not free to move, his position would still be desperate. -We know from the record that he was on the water, so what -we have to do is to ascertain what water. -The first thing is to realize exactly what he has done as -yet. We may, then, get a light on what his task is to be. -Firstly.We must differentiate between what he did in -London as part of his general plan of action, when he was -pressed for moments and had to arrange as best he could. -Secondly.We must see, as well as we can surmise it from the -facts we know of, what he has done here. -As to the first, he evidently intended to arrive at Galatz, -and sent invoice to Varna to deceive us lest we should ascertain -his means of exit from England. His immediate and sole purpose -then was to escape. The proof of this, is the letter of -instructions sent to Immanuel Hildesheim to clear and take away -the box before sunrise. There is also the instruction to Petrof -Skinsky. These we must only guess at, but there must have been -some letter or message, since Skinsky came to Hildesheim. -That, so far, his plans were successful we know. The Czarina -Catherine made a phenomenally quick journey. So much so that -Captain Donelson's suspicions were aroused. But his superstition -united with his canniness played the Count's game for him, and he -ran with his favouring wind through fogs and all till he brought -up blindfold at Galatz. That the Count's arrangements were well -made, has been proved. Hildesheim cleared the box, took it off, -and gave it to Skinsky. Skinsky took it, and here we lose the -trail. We only know that the box is somewhere on the water, -moving along. The customs and the octroi, if there be any, have -been avoided. -Now we come to what the Count must have done after his -arrival, on land, at Galatz. -The box was given to Skinsky before sunrise. At sunrise -the Count could appear in his own form. Here, we ask why -Skinsky was chosen at all to aid in the work? In my husband's -diary, Skinsky is mentioned as dealing with the Slovaks who trade -down the river to the port. And the man's remark, that the -murder was the work of a Slovak, showed the general feeling -against his class. The Count wanted isolation. -My surmise is this, that in London the Count decided to get -back to his castle by water, as the most safe and secret -way. He was brought from the castle by Szgany, and probably they -delivered their cargo to Slovaks who took the boxes to Varna, for -there they were shipped to London. Thus the Count had knowledge -of the persons who could arrange this service. When the box was -on land, before sunrise or after sunset, he came out from his -box, met Skinsky and instructed him what to do as to arranging -the carriage of the box up some river. When this was done, and -he knew that all was in train, he blotted out his traces, as he -thought, by murdering his agent. -I have examined the map and find that the river most -suitable for the Slovaks to have ascended is either the -Pruth or the Sereth. I read in the typescript that in my -trance I heard cows low and water swirling level with my -ears and the creaking of wood. The Count in his box, then, -was on a river in an open boat, propelled probably either -by oars or poles, for the banks are near and it is working -against stream. There would be no such if floating down -stream. -Of course it may not be either the Sereth or the Pruth, but -we may possibly investigate further. Now of these two, the -Pruth is the more easily navigated, but the Sereth is, at -Fundu, joined by the Bistritza which runs up round the Borgo -Pass. The loop it makes is manifestly as close to Dracula's -castle as can be got by water. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNALCONTINUED -When I had done reading, Jonathan took me in his arms and kissed me. -The others kept shaking me by both hands, and Dr. Van Helsing said, -"Our dear Madam Mina is once more our teacher. Her eyes have been -where we were blinded. Now we are on the track once again, and this -time we may succeed. Our enemy is at his most helpless. And if we -can come on him by day, on the water, our task will be over. He has a -start, but he is powerless to hasten, as he may not leave this box -lest those who carry him may suspect. For them to suspect would be to -prompt them to throw him in the stream where he perish. This he -knows, and will not. Now men, to our Council of War, for here and -now, we must plan what each and all shall do." -"I shall get a steam launch and follow him," said Lord Godalming. -"And I, horses to follow on the bank lest by chance he land," said Mr. -Morris. -"Good" said the Professor, "both good. But neither must go alone. -There must be force to overcome force if need be. The Slovak is -strong and rough, and he carries rude arms." All the men smiled, for -amongst them they carried a small arsenal. -Said Mr. Morris, "I have brought some Winchesters. They are pretty -handy in a crowd, and there may be wolves. The Count, if you -remember, took some other precautions. He made some requisitions on -others that Mrs. Harker could not quite hear or understand. We must -be ready at all points." -Dr. Seward said, "I think I had better go with Quincey. We have been -accustomed to hunt together, and we two, well armed, will be a match -for whatever may come along. You must not be alone, Art. It may be -necessary to fight the Slovaks, and a chance thrust, for I don't -suppose these fellows carry guns, would undo all our plans. There -must be no chances, this time. We shall not rest until the Count's -head and body have been separated, and we are sure that he cannot -reincarnate." -He looked at Jonathan as he spoke, and Jonathan looked at me. I could -see that the poor dear was torn about in his mind. Of course he -wanted to be with me. But then the boat service would, most likely, -be the one which would destroy the . . . the . . . Vampire. Why did -I hesitate to write the word? -He was silent awhile, and during his silence Dr. Van Helsing spoke, -"Friend Jonathan, this is to you for twice reasons. First, because -you are young and brave and can fight, and all energies may be needed -at the last. And again that it is your right to destroy him. That, -which has wrought such woe to you and yours. Be not afraid for Madam -Mina. She will be my care, if I may. I am old. My legs are not so -quick to run as once. And I am not used to ride so long or to pursue -as need be, or to fight with lethal weapons. But I can be of other -service. I can fight in other way. And I can die, if need be, as -well as younger men. Now let me say that what I would is this. While -you, my Lord Godalming and friend Jonathan go in your so swift little -steamboat up the river, and whilst John and Quincey guard the bank -where perchance he might be landed, I will take Madam Mina right into -the heart of the enemy's country. Whilst the old fox is tied in his -box, floating on the running stream whence he cannot escape to land, -where he dares not raise the lid of his coffin box lest his Slovak -carriers should in fear leave him to perish, we shall go in the track -where Jonathan went, from Bistritz over the Borgo, and find our way to -the Castle of Dracula. Here, Madam Mina's hypnotic power will surely -help, and we shall find our way, all dark and unknown otherwise, after -the first sunrise when we are near that fateful place. There is much -to be done, and other places to be made sanctify, so that that nest of -vipers be obliterated." -Here Jonathan interrupted him hotly, "Do you mean to say, Professor -Van Helsing, that you would bring Mina, in her sad case and tainted as -she is with that devil's illness, right into the jaws of his -deathtrap? Not for the world Not for Heaven or Hell" -He became almost speechless for a minute, and then went on, "Do you -know what the place is? Have you seen that awful den of hellish -infamy, with the very moonlight alive with grisly shapes, and every -speck of dust that whirls in the wind a devouring monster in embryo? -Have you felt the Vampire's lips upon your throat?" -Here he turned to me, and as his eyes lit on my forehead he threw up -his arms with a cry, "Oh, my God, what have we done to have this -terror upon us?" and he sank down on the sofa in a collapse of misery. -The Professor's voice, as he spoke in clear, sweet tones, which seemed -to vibrate in the air, calmed us all. -"Oh, my friend, it is because I would save Madam Mina from that awful -place that I would go. God forbid that I should take her into that -place. There is work, wild work, to be done before that place can be -purify. Remember that we are in terrible straits. If the Count -escape us this time, and he is strong and subtle and cunning, he may -choose to sleep him for a century, and then in time our dear one," he -took my hand, "would come to him to keep him company, and would be as -those others that you, Jonathan, saw. You have told us of their -gloating lips. You heard their ribald laugh as they clutched the -moving bag that the Count threw to them. You shudder, and well may it -be. Forgive me that I make you so much pain, but it is necessary. My -friend, is it not a dire need for that which I am giving, possibly my -life? If it were that any one went into that place to stay, it is I -who would have to go to keep them company." -"Do as you will," said Jonathan, with a sob that shook him all over, -"we are in the hands of God" -Later.Oh, it did me good to see the way that these brave men worked. -How can women help loving men when they are so earnest, and so true, -and so brave And, too, it made me think of the wonderful power of -money What can it not do when basely used. I felt so thankful that -Lord Godalming is rich, and both he and Mr. Morris, who also has -plenty of money, are willing to spend it so freely. For if they did -not, our little expedition could not start, either so promptly or so -well equipped, as it will within another hour. It is not three hours -since it was arranged what part each of us was to do. And now Lord -Godalming and Jonathan have a lovely steam launch, with steam up ready -to start at a moment's notice. Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris have half a -dozen good horses, well appointed. We have all the maps and -appliances of various kinds that can be had. Professor Van Helsing -and I are to leave by the train tonight for Veresti, where we -are to get a carriage to drive to the Borgo Pass. We are bringing a -good deal of ready money, as we are to buy a carriage and horses. We -shall drive ourselves, for we have no one whom we can trust in the -matter. The Professor knows something of a great many languages, so -we shall get on all right. We have all got arms, even for me a large -bore revolver. Jonathan would not be happy unless I was armed like -the rest. Alas I cannot carry one arm that the rest do, the scar on -my forehead forbids that. Dear Dr. Van Helsing comforts me by telling -me that I am fully armed as there may be wolves. The weather is -getting colder every hour, and there are snow flurries which come and -go as warnings. -Later.It took all my courage to say goodbye to my darling. We may -never meet again. Courage, Mina The Professor is looking at you -keenly. His look is a warning. There must be no tears now, unless it -may be that God will let them fall in gladness. -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - October, night.I am writing this in the light from the furnace -door of the steam launch. Lord Godalming is firing up. He is an -experienced hand at the work, as he has had for years a launch of his -own on the Thames, and another on the Norfolk Broads. Regarding our -plans, we finally decided that Mina's guess was correct, and that if -any waterway was chosen for the Count's escape back to his Castle, the -Sereth and then the Bistritza at its junction, would be the one. We -took it, that somewhere about the th degree, north latitude, would -be the place chosen for crossing the country between the river and the -Carpathians. We have no fear in running at good speed up the river at -night. There is plenty of water, and the banks are wide enough apart -to make steaming, even in the dark, easy enough. Lord Godalming tells -me to sleep for a while, as it is enough for the present for one to be -on watch. But I cannot sleep, how can I with the terrible danger -hanging over my darling, and her going out into that awful place . . . -My only comfort is that we are in the hands of God. Only for that -faith it would be easier to die than to live, and so be quit of all -the trouble. Mr. Morris and Dr. Seward were off on their long ride -before we started. They are to keep up the right bank, far enough off -to get on higher lands where they can see a good stretch of river and -avoid the following of its curves. They have, for the first stages, -two men to ride and lead their spare horses, four in all, so as not to -excite curiosity. When they dismiss the men, which shall be shortly, -they shall themselves look after the horses. It may be necessary for -us to join forces. If so they can mount our whole party. One of the -saddles has a moveable horn, and can be easily adapted for Mina, if -required. -It is a wild adventure we are on. Here, as we are rushing along -through the darkness, with the cold from the river seeming to rise up -and strike us, with all the mysterious voices of the night around us, -it all comes home. We seem to be drifting into unknown places and -unknown ways. Into a whole world of dark and dreadful things. -Godalming is shutting the furnace door . . . - October.Still hurrying along. The day has come, and Godalming is -sleeping. I am on watch. The morning is bitterly cold, the furnace -heat is grateful, though we have heavy fur coats. As yet we have -passed only a few open boats, but none of them had on board any box or -package of anything like the size of the one we seek. The men were -scared every time we turned our electric lamp on them, and fell on -their knees and prayed. - November, evening.No news all day. We have found nothing of the -kind we seek. We have now passed into the Bistritza, and if we are -wrong in our surmise our chance is gone. We have overhauled every -boat, big and little. Early this morning, one crew took us for a -Government boat, and treated us accordingly. We saw in this a way of -smoothing matters, so at Fundu, where the Bistritza runs into the -Sereth, we got a Roumanian flag which we now fly conspicuously. With -every boat which we have overhauled since then this trick has -succeeded. We have had every deference shown to us, and not once any -objection to whatever we chose to ask or do. Some of the Slovaks tell -us that a big boat passed them, going at more than usual speed as she -had a double crew on board. This was before they came to Fundu, so -they could not tell us whether the boat turned into the Bistritza or -continued on up the Sereth. At Fundu we could not hear of any such -boat, so she must have passed there in the night. I am feeling very -sleepy. The cold is perhaps beginning to tell upon me, and nature -must have rest some time. Godalming insists that he shall keep the -first watch. God bless him for all his goodness to poor dear Mina and -me. - November, morning.It is broad daylight. That good fellow would -not wake me. He says it would have been a sin to, for I slept -peacefully and was forgetting my trouble. It seems brutally selfish -to me to have slept so long, and let him watch all night, but he was -quite right. I am a new man this morning. And, as I sit here and -watch him sleeping, I can do all that is necessary both as to minding -the engine, steering, and keeping watch. I can feel that my strength -and energy are coming back to me. I wonder where Mina is now, and Van -Helsing. They should have got to Veresti about noon on Wednesday. It -would take them some time to get the carriage and horses. So if they -had started and travelled hard, they would be about now at the Borgo -Pass. God guide and help them I am afraid to think what may -happen. If we could only go faster. But we cannot. The engines are -throbbing and doing their utmost. I wonder how Dr. Seward and Mr. -Morris are getting on. There seem to be endless streams running down -the mountains into this river, but as none of them are very large, at -present, at all events, though they are doubtless terrible in winter -and when the snow melts, the horsemen may not have met much -obstruction. I hope that before we get to Strasba we may see them. -For if by that time we have not overtaken the Count, it may be -necessary to take counsel together what to do next. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - November.Three days on the road. No news, and no time to write it -if there had been, for every moment is precious. We have had only the -rest needful for the horses. But we are both bearing it wonderfully. -Those adventurous days of ours are turning up useful. We must push -on. We shall never feel happy till we get the launch in sight again. - November.We heard at Fundu that the launch had gone up the -Bistritza. I wish it wasn't so cold. There are signs of snow coming. -And if it falls heavy it will stop us. In such case we must get a -sledge and go on, Russian fashion. - November.Today we heard of the launch having been detained by an -accident when trying to force a way up the rapids. The Slovak boats -get up all right, by aid of a rope and steering with knowledge. Some -went up only a few hours before. Godalming is an amateur fitter -himself, and evidently it was he who put the launch in trim again. -Finally, they got up the rapids all right, with local help, and are off -on the chase afresh. I fear that the boat is not any better for the -accident, the peasantry tell us that after she got upon smooth water -again, she kept stopping every now and again so long as she was in -sight. We must push on harder than ever. Our help may be wanted -soon. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - October.Arrived at Veresti at noon. The Professor tells me that -this morning at dawn he could hardly hypnotize me at all, and that all -I could say was, "dark and quiet." He is off now buying a carriage -and horses. He says that he will later on try to buy additional -horses, so that we may be able to change them on the way. We have -something more than miles before us. The country is lovely, and -most interesting. If only we were under different conditions, how -delightful it would be to see it all. If Jonathan and I were driving -through it alone what a pleasure it would be. To stop and see people, -and learn something of their life, and to fill our minds and memories -with all the colour and picturesqueness of the whole wild, beautiful -country and the quaint people But, alas -Later.Dr. Van Helsing has returned. He has got the carriage and -horses. We are to have some dinner, and to start in an hour. The -landlady is putting us up a huge basket of provisions. It seems -enough for a company of soldiers. The Professor encourages her, and -whispers to me that it may be a week before we can get any food again. -He has been shopping too, and has sent home such a wonderful lot of -fur coats and wraps, and all sorts of warm things. There will not be -any chance of our being cold. -We shall soon be off. I am afraid to think what may happen to us. We -are truly in the hands of God. He alone knows what may be, and I pray -Him, with all the strength of my sad and humble soul, that He will -watch over my beloved husband. That whatever may happen, Jonathan may -know that I loved him and honoured him more than I can say, and that my -latest and truest thought will be always for him. -CHAPTER -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - November.All day long we have travelled, and at a good speed. The -horses seem to know that they are being kindly treated, for they go -willingly their full stage at best speed. We have now had so many -changes and find the same thing so constantly that we are encouraged -to think that the journey will be an easy one. Dr. Van Helsing is -laconic, he tells the farmers that he is hurrying to Bistritz, and -pays them well to make the exchange of horses. We get hot soup, or -coffee, or tea, and off we go. It is a lovely country. Full of -beauties of all imaginable kinds, and the people are brave, and -strong, and simple, and seem full of nice qualities. They are very, -very superstitious. In the first house where we stopped, when the -woman who served us saw the scar on my forehead, she crossed herself -and put out two fingers towards me, to keep off the evil eye. I -believe they went to the trouble of putting an extra amount of garlic -into our food, and I can't abide garlic. Ever since then I have taken -care not to take off my hat or veil, and so have escaped their -suspicions. We are travelling fast, and as we have no driver with us -to carry tales, we go ahead of scandal. But I daresay that fear of -the evil eye will follow hard behind us all the way. The Professor -seems tireless. All day he would not take any rest, though he made me -sleep for a long spell. At sunset time he hypnotized me, and he says -I answered as usual, "darkness, lapping water and creaking wood." So -our enemy is still on the river. I am afraid to think of Jonathan, -but somehow I have now no fear for him, or for myself. I write this -whilst we wait in a farmhouse for the horses to be ready. Dr. Van -Helsing is sleeping. Poor dear, he looks very tired and old and grey, -but his mouth is set as firmly as a conqueror's. Even in his sleep he -is intense with resolution. When we have well started I must make him -rest whilst I drive. I shall tell him that we have days before us, -and he must not break down when most of all his strength will be -needed . . . All is ready. We are off shortly. - November, morning.I was successful, and we took turns driving all -night. Now the day is on us, bright though cold. There is a strange -heaviness in the air. I say heaviness for want of a better word. I -mean that it oppresses us both. It is very cold, and only our warm -furs keep us comfortable. At dawn Van Helsing hypnotized me. He says -I answered "darkness, creaking wood and roaring water," so the river -is changing as they ascend. I do hope that my darling will not run -any chance of danger, more than need be, but we are in God's hands. - November, night.All day long driving. The country gets wilder as -we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti seemed -so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather round us -and tower in front. We both seem in good spirits. I think we make an -effort each to cheer the other, in the doing so we cheer ourselves. -Dr. Van Helsing says that by morning we shall reach the Borgo Pass. -The houses are very few here now, and the Professor says that the last -horse we got will have to go on with us, as we may not be able to -change. He got two in addition to the two we changed, so that now we -have a rude fourinhand. The dear horses are patient and good, and -they give us no trouble. We are not worried with other travellers, -and so even I can drive. We shall get to the Pass in daylight. We do -not want to arrive before. So we take it easy, and have each a long -rest in turn. Oh, what will tomorrow bring to us? We go to seek the -place where my poor darling suffered so much. God grant that we may -be guided aright, and that He will deign to watch over my husband and -those dear to us both, and who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I -am not worthy in His sight. Alas I am unclean to His eyes, and -shall be until He may deign to let me stand forth in His sight as one -of those who have not incurred His wrath. -MEMORANDUM BY ABRAHAM VAN HELSING - November.This to my old and true friend John Seward, M.D., -of Purfleet, London, in case I may not see him. It may -explain. It is morning, and I write by a fire which all -the night I have kept alive, Madam Mina aiding me. It is -cold, cold. So cold that the grey heavy sky is full of -snow, which when it falls will settle for all winter as the -ground is hardening to receive it. It seems to have affected -Madam Mina. She has been so heavy of head all day that she was -not like herself. She sleeps, and sleeps, and sleeps She who -is usual so alert, have done literally nothing all the day. She -even have lost her appetite. She make no entry into her little -diary, she who write so faithful at every pause. Something -whisper to me that all is not well. However, tonight she is more -/vif/. Her long sleep all day have refresh and restore her, for -now she is all sweet and bright as ever. At sunset I try to -hypnotize her, but alas with no effect. The power has grown -less and less with each day, and tonight it fail me altogether. -Well, God's will be done, whatever it may be, and whithersoever -it may lead -Now to the historical, for as Madam Mina write not in her -stenography, I must, in my cumbrous old fashion, that so -each day of us may not go unrecorded. -We got to the Borgo Pass just after sunrise yesterday -morning. When I saw the signs of the dawn I got ready for -the hypnotism. We stopped our carriage, and got down so -that there might be no disturbance. I made a couch with -furs, and Madam Mina, lying down, yield herself as usual, -but more slow and more short time than ever, to the hypnotic -sleep. As before, came the answer, "darkness and the swirling of -water." Then she woke, bright and radiant and we go on our way -and soon reach the Pass. At this time and place, she become all -on fire with zeal. Some new guiding power be in her manifested, -for she point to a road and say, "This is the way." -"How know you it?" I ask. -"Of course I know it," she answer, and with a pause, add, -"Have not my Jonathan travelled it and wrote of his travel?" -At first I think somewhat strange, but soon I see that there be -only one such byroad. It is used but little, and very different -from the coach road from the Bukovina to Bistritz, which is more -wide and hard, and more of use. -So we came down this road. When we meet other ways, not -always were we sure that they were roads at all, for they -be neglect and light snow have fallen, the horses know and -they only. I give rein to them, and they go on so patient. By -and by we find all the things which Jonathan have note in that -wonderful diary of him. Then we go on for long, long hours and -hours. At the first, I tell Madam Mina to sleep. She try, and -she succeed. She sleep all the time, till at the last, I feel -myself to suspicious grow, and attempt to wake her. But she -sleep on, and I may not wake her though I try. I do not wish to -try too hard lest I harm her. For I know that she have suffer -much, and sleep at times be allinall to her. I think I drowse -myself, for all of sudden I feel guilt, as though I have done -something. I find myself bolt up, with the reins in my hand, and -the good horses go along jog, jog, just as ever. I look down and -find Madam Mina still asleep. It is now not far off sunset time, -and over the snow the light of the sun flow in big yellow flood, -so that we throw great long shadow on where the mountain rise so -steep. For we are going up, and up, and all is oh so wild and -rocky, as though it were the end of the world. -Then I arouse Madam Mina. This time she wake with not much -trouble, and then I try to put her to hypnotic sleep. But -she sleep not, being as though I were not. Still I try and -try, till all at once I find her and myself in dark, so I -look round, and find that the sun have gone down. Madam -Mina laugh, and I turn and look at her. She is now quite -awake, and look so well as I never saw her since that night -at Carfax when we first enter the Count's house. I am amaze, and -not at ease then. But she is so bright and tender and thoughtful -for me that I forget all fear. I light a fire, for we have -brought supply of wood with us, and she prepare food while I undo -the horses and set them, tethered in shelter, to feed. Then when -I return to the fire she have my supper ready. I go to help her, -but she smile, and tell me that she have eat already. That she -was so hungry that she would not wait. I like it not, and I have -grave doubts. But I fear to affright her, and so I am silent of -it. She help me and I eat alone, and then we wrap in fur and lie -beside the fire, and I tell her to sleep while I watch. But -presently I forget all of watching. And when I sudden remember -that I watch, I find her lying quiet, but awake, and looking at -me with so bright eyes. Once, twice more the same occur, and I -get much sleep till before morning. When I wake I try to -hypnotize her, but alas though she shut her eyes obedient, she -may not sleep. The sun rise up, and up, and up, and then sleep -come to her too late, but so heavy that she will not wake. I -have to lift her up, and place her sleeping in the carriage when -I have harnessed the horses and made all ready. Madam still -sleep, and she look in her sleep more healthy and more redder -than before. And I like it not. And I am afraid, afraid, -afraid I am afraid of all things, even to think but I must go -on my way. The stake we play for is life and death, or more than -these, and we must not flinch. - November, morning.Let me be accurate in everything, for -though you and I have seen some strange things together, -you may at the first think that I, Van Helsing, am mad. -That the many horrors and the so long strain on nerves has -at the last turn my brain. -All yesterday we travel, always getting closer to the -mountains, and moving into a more and more wild and desert -land. There are great, frowning precipices and much falling -water, and Nature seem to have held sometime her carnival. Madam -Mina still sleep and sleep. And though I did have hunger and -appeased it, I could not waken her, even for food. I began to -fear that the fatal spell of the place was upon her, tainted as -she is with that Vampire baptism. "Well," said I to myself, "if -it be that she sleep all the day, it shall also be that I do not -sleep at night." As we travel on the rough road, for a road of -an ancient and imperfect kind there was, I held down my head and -slept. -Again I waked with a sense of guilt and of time passed, and -found Madam Mina still sleeping, and the sun low down. But -all was indeed changed. The frowning mountains seemed further -away, and we were near the top of a steep rising hill, on summit -of which was such a castle as Jonathan tell of in his diary. At -once I exulted and feared. For now, for good or ill, the end was -near. -I woke Madam Mina, and again tried to hypnotize her, but -alas unavailing till too late. Then, ere the great dark -came upon us, for even after down sun the heavens reflected -the gone sun on the snow, and all was for a time in a great -twilight. I took out the horses and fed them in what shelter I -could. Then I make a fire, and near it I make Madam Mina, now -awake and more charming than ever, sit comfortable amid her rugs. -I got ready food, but she would not eat, simply saying that she -had not hunger. I did not press her, knowing her unavailingness. -But I myself eat, for I must needs now be strong for all. Then, -with the fear on me of what might be, I drew a ring so big for -her comfort, round where Madam Mina sat. And over the ring I -passed some of the wafer, and I broke it fine so that all was -well guarded. She sat still all the time, so still as one dead. -And she grew whiter and even whiter till the snow was not more -pale, and no word she said. But when I drew near, she clung to -me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from head to -feet with a tremor that was pain to feel. -I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet, -"Will you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make -a test of what she could. She rose obedient, but when she -have made a step she stopped, and stood as one stricken. -"Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and coming -back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open -eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply, "I cannot" -and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could -not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be -danger to her body, yet her soul was safe -Presently the horses began to scream, and tore at their -tethers till I came to them and quieted them. When they -did feel my hands on them, they whinnied low as in joy, and -licked at my hands and were quiet for a time. Many times -through the night did I come to them, till it arrive to the -cold hour when all nature is at lowest, and every time my -coming was with quiet of them. In the cold hour the fire -began to die, and I was about stepping forth to replenish -it, for now the snow came in flying sweeps and with it a -chill mist. Even in the dark there was a light of some -kind, as there ever is over snow, and it seemed as though -the snow flurries and the wreaths of mist took shape as of -women with trailing garments. All was in dead, grim silence only -that the horses whinnied and cowered, as if in terror of the -worst. I began to fear, horrible fears. But then came to me the -sense of safety in that ring wherein I stood. I began too, to -think that my imaginings were of the night, and the gloom, and -the unrest that I have gone through, and all the terrible -anxiety. It was as though my memories of all Jonathan's horrid -experience were befooling me. For the snow flakes and the mist -began to wheel and circle round, till I could get as though a -shadowy glimpse of those women that would have kissed him. And -then the horses cowered lower and lower, and moaned in terror as -men do in pain. Even the madness of fright was not to them, so -that they could break away. I feared for my dear Madam Mina when -these weird figures drew near and circled round. I looked at her, -but she sat calm, and smiled at me. When I would have stepped to -the fire to replenish it, she caught me and held me back, and -whispered, like a voice that one hears in a dream, so low it was. -"No No Do not go without. Here you are safe" -I turned to her, and looking in her eyes said, "But you? -It is for you that I fear" -Whereat she laughed, a laugh low and unreal, and said, "Fear -for me Why fear for me? None safer in all the world from -them than I am," and as I wondered at the meaning of her -words, a puff of wind made the flame leap up, and I see the -red scar on her forehead. Then, alas I knew. Did I not, -I would soon have learned, for the wheeling figures of mist -and snow came closer, but keeping ever without the Holy -circle. Then they began to materialize till, if God have -not taken away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes. -There were before me in actual flesh the same three women -that Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed -his throat. I knew the swaying round forms, the bright -hard eyes, the white teeth, the ruddy colour, the voluptuous -lips. They smiled ever at poor dear Madam Mina. And as -their laugh came through the silence of the night, they -twined their arms and pointed to her, and said in those so -sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the intolerable -sweetness of the water glasses, "Come, sister. Come to us. -Come" -In fear I turned to my poor Madam Mina, and my heart with -gladness leapt like flame. For oh the terror in her sweet -eyes, the repulsion, the horror, told a story to my heart -that was all of hope. God be thanked she was not, yet, of -them. I seized some of the firewood which was by me, and -holding out some of the Wafer, advanced on them towards the -fire. They drew back before me, and laughed their low horrid -laugh. I fed the fire, and feared them not. For I knew that we -were safe within the ring, which she could not leave no more than -they could enter. The horses had ceased to moan, and lay still -on the ground. The snow fell on them softly, and they grew -whiter. I knew that there was for the poor beasts no more of -terror. -And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall -through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and -full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began -to climb the horizon life was to me again. At the first -coming of the dawn the horrid figures melted in the whirling -mist and snow. The wreaths of transparent gloom moved away -towards the castle, and were lost. -Instinctively, with the dawn coming, I turned to Madam Mina, -intending to hypnotize her. But she lay in a deep and sudden -sleep, from which I could not wake her. I tried to hypnotize -through her sleep, but she made no response, none at all, and the -day broke. I fear yet to stir. I have made my fire and have -seen the horses, they are all dead. Today I have much to do here, -and I keep waiting till the sun is up high. For there may be -places where I must go, where that sunlight, though snow and mist -obscure it, will be to me a safety. -I will strengthen me with breakfast, and then I will do my -terrible work. Madam Mina still sleeps, and God be thanked She -is calm in her sleep . . . -JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL - November, evening.The accident to the launch has been a terrible -thing for us. Only for it we should have overtaken the boat long ago, -and by now my dear Mina would have been free. I fear to think of her, -off on the wolds near that horrid place. We have got horses, and we -follow on the track. I note this whilst Godalming is getting ready. -We have our arms. The Szgany must look out if they mean to fight. Oh, -if only Morris and Seward were with us. We must only hope If I -write no more Goodby Mina God bless and keep you. -DR. SEWARD'S DIARY - November.With the dawn we saw the body of Szgany before us dashing -away from the river with their leiter wagon. They surrounded it in a -cluster, and hurried along as though beset. The snow is falling -lightly and there is a strange excitement in the air. It may be our -own feelings, but the depression is strange. Far off I hear the -howling of wolves. The snow brings them down from the mountains, and -there are dangers to all of us, and from all sides. The horses are -nearly ready, and we are soon off. We ride to death of some one. God -alone knows who, or where, or what, or when, or how it may be . . . -DR. VAN HELSING'S MEMORANDUM - November, afternoon.I am at least sane. Thank God for -that mercy at all events, though the proving it has been -dreadful. When I left Madam Mina sleeping within the Holy -circle, I took my way to the castle. The blacksmith hammer -which I took in the carriage from Veresti was useful, though the -doors were all open I broke them off the rusty hinges, lest some -ill intent or ill chance should close them, so that being entered -I might not get out. Jonathan's bitter experience served me -here. By memory of his diary I found my way to the old chapel, -for I knew that here my work lay. The air was oppressive. It -seemed as if there was some sulphurous fume, which at times made -me dizzy. Either there was a roaring in my ears or I heard afar -off the howl of wolves. Then I bethought me of my dear Madam -Mina, and I was in terrible plight. The dilemma had me between -his horns. -Her, I had not dare to take into this place, but left safe -from the Vampire in that Holy circle. And yet even there -would be the wolf I resolve me that my work lay here, and -that as to the wolves we must submit, if it were God's will. At -any rate it was only death and freedom beyond. So did I choose -for her. Had it but been for myself the choice had been easy, -the maw of the wolf were better to rest in than the grave of the -Vampire So I make my choice to go on with my work. -I knew that there were at least three graves to find, graves -that are inhabit. So I search, and search, and I find one -of them. She lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and -voluptuous beauty that I shudder as though I have come to -do murder. Ah, I doubt not that in the old time, when such -things were, many a man who set forth to do such a task as -mine, found at the last his heart fail him, and then his -nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till the mere -beauty and the fascination of the wanton Undead have hypnotize -him. And he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the Vampire -sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman open -and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss, and -the man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the -Vampire fold. One more to swell the grim and grisly ranks -of the Undead . . . -There is some fascination, surely, when I am moved by the -mere presence of such an one, even lying as she lay in a -tomb fretted with age and heavy with the dust of centuries, -though there be that horrid odour such as the lairs of the -Count have had. Yes, I was moved. I, Van Helsing, with -all my purpose and with my motive for hate. I was moved to -a yearning for delay which seemed to paralyze my faculties -and to clog my very soul. It may have been that the need -of natural sleep, and the strange oppression of the air -were beginning to overcome me. Certain it was that I was -lapsing into sleep, the open eyed sleep of one who yields -to a sweet fascination, when there came through the snowstilled -air a long, low wail, so full of woe and pity that it woke me -like the sound of a clarion. For it was the voice of my dear -Madam Mina that I heard. -Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by -wrenching away tomb tops one other of the sisters, the other dark -one. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, -lest once more I should begin to be enthrall. But I go on -searching until, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if -made to one much beloved that other fair sister which, like -Jonathan I had seen to gather herself out of the atoms of the -mist. She was so fair to look on, so radiantly beautiful, so -exquisitely voluptuous, that the very instinct of man in me, -which calls some of my sex to love and to protect one of hers, -made my head whirl with new emotion. But God be thanked, that -soul wail of my dear Madam Mina had not died out of my ears. -And, before the spell could be wrought further upon me, I had -nerved myself to my wild work. By this time I had searched all -the tombs in the chapel, so far as I could tell. And as there -had been only three of these Undead phantoms around us in the -night, I took it that there were no more of active Undead -existent. There was one great tomb more lordly than all the -rest. Huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one -word. -DRACULA -This then was the Undead home of the King Vampire, to whom -so many more were due. Its emptiness spoke eloquent to -make certain what I knew. Before I began to restore these -women to their dead selves through my awful work, I laid in -Dracula's tomb some of the Wafer, and so banished him from -it, Undead, for ever. -Then began my terrible task, and I dreaded it. Had it been -but one, it had been easy, comparative. But three To -begin twice more after I had been through a deed of horror. -For it was terrible with the sweet Miss Lucy, what would it -not be with these strange ones who had survived through -centuries, and who had been strengthened by the passing of -the years. Who would, if they could, have fought for their -foul lives . . . -Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher work. Had I not -been nerved by thoughts of other dead, and of the living -over whom hung such a pall of fear, I could not have gone -on. I tremble and tremble even yet, though till all was -over, God be thanked, my nerve did stand. Had I not seen -the repose in the first place, and the gladness that stole -over it just ere the final dissolution came, as realization -that the soul had been won, I could not have gone further -with my butchery. I could not have endured the horrid screeching -as the stake drove home, the plunging of writhing form, and lips -of bloody foam. I should have fled in terror and left my work -undone. But it is over And the poor souls, I can pity them now -and weep, as I think of them placid each in her full sleep of -death for a short moment ere fading. For, friend John, hardly -had my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body -began to melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though -the death that should have come centuries ago had at last assert -himself and say at once and loud, "I am here" -Before I left the castle I so fixed its entrances that never -more can the Count enter there Undead. -When I stepped into the circle where Madam Mina slept, she -woke from her sleep and, seeing me, cried out in pain that -I had endured too much. -"Come" she said, "come away from this awful place Let us -go to meet my husband who is, I know, coming towards us." -She was looking thin and pale and weak. But her eyes were -pure and glowed with fervour. I was glad to see her paleness and -her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that -ruddy vampire sleep. -And so with trust and hope, and yet full of fear, we go -eastward to meet our friends, and him, whom Madam Mina tell -me that she know are coming to meet us. -MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL - November.It was late in the afternoon when the Professor and I -took our way towards the east whence I knew Jonathan was coming. We -did not go fast, though the way was steeply downhill, for we had to -take heavy rugs and wraps with us. We dared not face the possibility -of being left without warmth in the cold and the snow. We had to take -some of our provisions too, for we were in a perfect desolation, and -so far as we could see through the snowfall, there was not even the -sign of habitation. When we had gone about a mile, I was tired with -the heavy walking and sat down to rest. Then we looked back and saw -where the clear line of Dracula's castle cut the sky. For we were so -deep under the hill whereon it was set that the angle of perspective -of the Carpathian mountains was far below it. We saw it in all its -grandeur, perched a thousand feet on the summit of a sheer precipice, -and with seemingly a great gap between it and the steep of the -adjacent mountain on any side. There was something wild and uncanny -about the place. We could hear the distant howling of wolves. They -were far off, but the sound, even though coming muffled through the -deadening snowfall, was full of terror. I knew from the way Dr. Van -Helsing was searching about that he was trying to seek some strategic -point, where we would be less exposed in case of attack. The rough -roadway still led downwards. We could trace it through the drifted -snow. -In a little while the Professor signalled to me, so I got up and -joined him. He had found a wonderful spot, a sort of natural hollow -in a rock, with an entrance like a doorway between two boulders. He -took me by the hand and drew me in. -"See" he said, "here you will be in shelter. And if the wolves do -come I can meet them one by one." -He brought in our furs, and made a snug nest for me, and got out some -provisions and forced them upon me. But I could not eat, to even try -to do so was repulsive to me, and much as I would have liked to please -him, I could not bring myself to the attempt. He looked very sad, but -did not reproach me. Taking his field glasses from the case, he stood -on the top of the rock, and began to search the horizon. -Suddenly he called out, "Look Madam Mina, look Look" -I sprang up and stood beside him on the rock. He handed me his -glasses and pointed. The snow was now falling more heavily, and -swirled about fiercely, for a high wind was beginning to blow. -However, there were times when there were pauses between the snow -flurries and I could see a long way round. From the height where we -were it was possible to see a great distance. And far off, beyond the -white waste of snow, I could see the river lying like a black ribbon -in kinks and curls as it wound its way. Straight in front of us and -not far off, in fact so near that I wondered we had not noticed -before, came a group of mounted men hurrying along. In the midst of -them was a cart, a long leiter wagon which swept from side to side, -like a dog's tail wagging, with each stern inequality of the road. -Outlined against the snow as they were, I could see from the men's -clothes that they were peasants or gypsies of some kind. -On the cart was a great square chest. My heart leaped as I saw it, for -I felt that the end was coming. The evening was now drawing close, -and well I knew that at sunset the Thing, which was till then -imprisoned there, would take new freedom and could in any of many -forms elude pursuit. In fear I turned to the Professor. To my -consternation, however, he was not there. An instant later, I saw him -below me. Round the rock he had drawn a circle, such as we had found -shelter in last night. -When he had completed it he stood beside me again saying, "At least -you shall be safe here from him" He took the glasses from me, and at -the next lull of the snow swept the whole space below us. "See," he -said, "they come quickly. They are flogging the horses, and galloping -as hard as they can." -He paused and went on in a hollow voice, "They are racing for the -sunset. We may be too late. God's will be done" Down came another -blinding rush of driving snow, and the whole landscape was blotted -out. It soon passed, however, and once more his glasses were fixed on -the plain. -Then came a sudden cry, "Look Look Look See, two horsemen follow -fast, coming up from the south. It must be Quincey and John. Take -the glass. Look before the snow blots it all out" I took it and -looked. The two men might be Dr. Seward and Mr. Morris. I knew at -all events that neither of them was Jonathan. At the same time I knew -that Jonathan was not far off. Looking around I saw on the north side -of the coming party two other men, riding at breakneck speed. One of -them I knew was Jonathan, and the other I took, of course, to be Lord -Godalming. They too, were pursuing the party with the cart. When I -told the Professor he shouted in glee like a schoolboy, and after -looking intently till a snow fall made sight impossible, he laid his -Winchester rifle ready for use against the boulder at the opening of -our shelter. -"They are all converging," he said. "When the time comes we shall have -gypsies on all sides." I got out my revolver ready to hand, for -whilst we were speaking the howling of wolves came louder and closer. -When the snow storm abated a moment we looked again. It was strange -to see the snow falling in such heavy flakes close to us, and beyond, -the sun shining more and more brightly as it sank down towards the far -mountain tops. Sweeping the glass all around us I could see here and -there dots moving singly and in twos and threes and larger numbers. -The wolves were gathering for their prey. -Every instant seemed an age whilst we waited. The wind came now in -fierce bursts, and the snow was driven with fury as it swept upon us -in circling eddies. At times we could not see an arm's length before -us. But at others, as the hollow sounding wind swept by us, it seemed -to clear the air space around us so that we could see afar off. We -had of late been so accustomed to watch for sunrise and sunset, that -we knew with fair accuracy when it would be. And we knew that before -long the sun would set. It was hard to believe that by our watches it -was less than an hour that we waited in that rocky shelter before the -various bodies began to converge close upon us. The wind came now -with fiercer and more bitter sweeps, and more steadily from the -north. It seemingly had driven the snow clouds from us, for with only -occasional bursts, the snow fell. We could distinguish clearly the -individuals of each party, the pursued and the pursuers. Strangely -enough those pursued did not seem to realize, or at least to care, -that they were pursued. They seemed, however, to hasten with -redoubled speed as the sun dropped lower and lower on the mountain -tops. -Closer and closer they drew. The Professor and I crouched down behind -our rock, and held our weapons ready. I could see that he was -determined that they should not pass. One and all were quite unaware -of our presence. -All at once two voices shouted out to "Halt" One was my Jonathan's, -raised in a high key of passion. The other Mr. Morris' strong -resolute tone of quiet command. The gypsies may not have known the -language, but there was no mistaking the tone, in whatever tongue the -words were spoken. Instinctively they reined in, and at the instant -Lord Godalming and Jonathan dashed up at one side and Dr. Seward and -Mr. Morris on the other. The leader of the gypsies, a splendid -looking fellow who sat his horse like a centaur, waved them back, and -in a fierce voice gave to his companions some word to proceed. They -lashed the horses which sprang forward. But the four men raised their -Winchester rifles, and in an unmistakable way commanded them to stop. -At the same moment Dr. Van Helsing and I rose behind the rock and -pointed our weapons at them. Seeing that they were surrounded the men -tightened their reins and drew up. The leader turned to them and gave -a word at which every man of the gypsy party drew what weapon he -carried, knife or pistol, and held himself in readiness to attack. -Issue was joined in an instant. -The leader, with a quick movement of his rein, threw his horse out in -front, and pointed first to the sun, now close down on the hill tops, -and then to the castle, said something which I did not understand. -For answer, all four men of our party threw themselves from their -horses and dashed towards the cart. I should have felt terrible fear -at seeing Jonathan in such danger, but that the ardor of battle must -have been upon me as well as the rest of them. I felt no fear, but -only a wild, surging desire to do something. Seeing the quick -movement of our parties, the leader of the gypsies gave a command. His -men instantly formed round the cart in a sort of undisciplined -endeavour, each one shouldering and pushing the other in his eagerness -to carry out the order. -In the midst of this I could see that Jonathan on one side of the ring -of men, and Quincey on the other, were forcing a way to the cart. It -was evident that they were bent on finishing their task before the sun -should set. Nothing seemed to stop or even to hinder them. Neither -the levelled weapons nor the flashing knives of the gypsies in front, -nor the howling of the wolves behind, appeared to even attract their -attention. Jonathan's impetuosity, and the manifest singleness of his -purpose, seemed to overawe those in front of him. Instinctively they -cowered aside and let him pass. In an instant he had jumped upon the -cart, and with a strength which seemed incredible, raised the great -box, and flung it over the wheel to the ground. In the meantime, Mr. -Morris had had to use force to pass through his side of the ring of -Szgany. All the time I had been breathlessly watching Jonathan I had, -with the tail of my eye, seen him pressing desperately forward, and -had seen the knives of the gypsies flash as he won a way through them, -and they cut at him. He had parried with his great bowie knife, and -at first I thought that he too had come through in safety. But as he -sprang beside Jonathan, who had by now jumped from the cart, I could -see that with his left hand he was clutching at his side, and that the -blood was spurting through his fingers. He did not delay -notwithstanding this, for as Jonathan, with desperate energy, attacked -one end of the chest, attempting to prize off the lid with his great -Kukri knife, he attacked the other frantically with his bowie. Under -the efforts of both men the lid began to yield. The nails drew with a -screeching sound, and the top of the box was thrown back. -By this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the -Winchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had -given in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on -the mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the -snow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of -which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was -deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with -the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well. -As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in -them turned to triumph. -But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan's great -knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat. Whilst at -the same moment Mr. Morris's bowie knife plunged into the heart. -It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the -drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from -our sight. -I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final -dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never -could have imagined might have rested there. -The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and every -stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the light of -the setting sun. -The gypsies, taking us as in some way the cause of the extraordinary -disappearance of the dead man, turned, without a word, and rode away -as if for their lives. Those who were unmounted jumped upon the -leiter wagon and shouted to the horsemen not to desert them. The -wolves, which had withdrawn to a safe distance, followed in their -wake, leaving us alone. -Mr. Morris, who had sunk to the ground, leaned on his elbow, holding -his hand pressed to his side. The blood still gushed through his -fingers. I flew to him, for the Holy circle did not now keep me back -so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and the wounded man -laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he took, with a -feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was unstained. -He must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he smiled at -me and said, "I am only too happy to have been of service Oh, God" -he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting posture and pointing to me. -"It was worth for this to die Look Look" -The sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red gleams -fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With one -impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest "Amen" -broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his finger. -The dying man spoke, "Now God be thanked that all has not been in -vain See The snow is not more stainless than her forehead The -curse has passed away" -And, to our bitter grief, with a smile and in silence, he died, a -gallant gentleman. -NOTE -Seven years ago we all went through the flames. And the happiness of -some of us since then is, we think, well worth the pain we endured. -It is an added joy to Mina and to me that our boy's birthday is the -same day as that on which Quincey Morris died. His mother holds, I -know, the secret belief that some of our brave friend's spirit has -passed into him. His bundle of names links all our little band of men -together. But we call him Quincey. -In the summer of this year we made a journey to Transylvania, and went -over the old ground which was, and is, to us so full of vivid and -terrible memories. It was almost impossible to believe that the -things which we had seen with our own eyes and heard with our own ears -were living truths. Every trace of all that had been was blotted -out. The castle stood as before, reared high above a waste of -desolation. -When we got home we were talking of the old time, which we could all -look back on without despair, for Godalming and Seward are both -happily married. I took the papers from the safe where they had been -ever since our return so long ago. We were struck with the fact, that -in all the mass of material of which the record is composed, there is -hardly one authentic document. Nothing but a mass of typewriting, -except the later notebooks of Mina and Seward and myself, and Van -Helsing's memorandum. We could hardly ask any one, even did we wish -to, to accept these as proofs of so wild a story. Van Helsing summed -it all up as he said, with our boy on his knee. -"We want no proofs. We ask none to believe us This boy will some -day know what a brave and gallant woman his mother is. Already he -knows her sweetness and loving care. Later on he will understand how -some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake." -JONATHAN HARKER - END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, DRACULA -This file should be named dracu.txt or dracu.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, dracu.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, dracua.txt -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called -Pip. -I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his -tombstone and my sister Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the -blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw -any likeness of either of them for their days were long before the -days of photographs, my first fancies regarding what they were -like, were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of -the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a -square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character -and turn of the inscription, "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I -drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. -To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, -which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were -sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine who gave up -trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal -struggle I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained -that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in -their trouserspockets, and had never taken them out in this state -of existence. -Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river -wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad -impression of the identity of things, seems to me to have been -gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time -I found out for certain, that this bleak place overgrown with -nettles was the churchyard and that Philip Pirrip, late of this -parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried -and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant -children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried and that the -dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dykes -and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the -marshes and that the low leaden line beyond, was the river and -that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing, was -the sea and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it -all and beginning to cry, was Pip. -"Hold your noise" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from -among the graves at the side of the church porch. "Keep still, you -little devil, or I'll cut your throat" -A fearful man, all in coarse grey, with a great iron on his leg. A -man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied -round his head. A man who had been soaked in water, and smothered -in mud, and lamed by stones, and cut by flints, and stung by -nettles, and torn by briars who limped, and shivered, and glared -and growled and whose teeth chattered in his head as he seized me -by the chin. -"O Don't cut my throat, sir," I pleaded in terror. "Pray don't do -it, sir." -"Tell us your name" said the man. "Quick" -"Pip, sir." -"Once more," said the man, staring at me. "Give it mouth" -"Pip. Pip, sir." -"Show us where you live," said the man. "Pint out the place" -I pointed to where our village lay, on the flat inshore among the -aldertrees and pollards, a mile or more from the church. -The man, after looking at me for a moment, turned me upside down, -and emptied my pockets. There was nothing in them but a piece of -bread. When the church came to itself for he was so sudden and -strong that he made it go head over heels before me, and I saw the -steeple under my feet when the church came to itself, I say, I -was seated on a high tombstone, trembling, while he ate the bread -ravenously. -"You young dog," said the man, licking his lips, "what fat cheeks -you ha' got." -I believe they were fat, though I was at that time undersized for -my years, and not strong. -"Darn me if I couldn't eat em," said the man, with a threatening -shake of his head, "and if I han't half a mind to't" -I earnestly expressed my hope that he wouldn't, and held tighter to -the tombstone on which he had put me partly, to keep myself upon -it partly, to keep myself from crying. -"Now lookee here" said the man. "Where's your mother?" -"There, sir" said I. -He started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his -shoulder. -"There, sir" I timidly explained. "Also Georgiana. That's my -mother." -"Oh" said he, coming back. "And is that your father alonger your -mother?" -"Yes, sir," said I "him too late of this parish." -"Ha" he muttered then, considering. "Who d'ye live with -supposin' you're kindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind -about?" -"My sister, sir Mrs. Joe Gargery wife of Joe Gargery, the -blacksmith, sir." -"Blacksmith, eh?" said he. And looked down at his leg. -After darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came -closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as -far as he could hold me so that his eyes looked most powerfully -down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his. -"Now lookee here," he said, "the question being whether you're to -be let to live. You know what a file is?" -"Yes, sir." -"And you know what wittles is?" -"Yes, sir." -After each question he tilted me over a little more, so as to give -me a greater sense of helplessness and danger. -"You get me a file." He tilted me again. "And you get me wittles." -He tilted me again. "You bring 'em both to me." He tilted me again. -"Or I'll have your heart and liver out." He tilted me again. -I was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that I clung to him with -both hands, and said, "If you would kindly please to let me keep -upright, sir, perhaps I shouldn't be sick, and perhaps I could -attend more." -He gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church -jumped over its own weathercock. Then, he held me by the arms, in -an upright position on the top of the stone, and went on in these -fearful terms -"You bring me, tomorrow morning early, that file and them wittles. -You bring the lot to me, at that old Battery over yonder. You do -it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a sign -concerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person -sumever, and you shall be let to live. You fail, or you go from my -words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart -and your liver shall be tore out, roasted and ate. Now, I ain't -alone, as you may think I am. There's a young man hid with me, in -comparison with which young man I am a Angel. That young man hears -the words I speak. That young man has a secret way pecooliar to -himself, of getting at a boy, and at his heart, and at his liver. -It is in wain for a boy to attempt to hide himself from that young -man. A boy may lock his door, may be warm in bed, may tuck himself -up, may draw the clothes over his head, may think himself -comfortable and safe, but that young man will softly creep and -creep his way to him and tear him open. I am akeeping that young -man from harming of you at the present moment, with great -difficulty. I find it wery hard to hold that young man off of your -inside. Now, what do you say?" -I said that I would get him the file, and I would get him what -broken bits of food I could, and I would come to him at the -Battery, early in the morning. -"Say Lord strike you dead if you don't" said the man. -I said so, and he took me down. -"Now," he pursued, "you remember what you've undertook, and you -remember that young man, and you get home" -"Googood night, sir," I faltered. -"Much of that" said he, glancing about him over the cold wet flat. -"I wish I was a frog. Or a eel" -At the same time, he hugged his shuddering body in both his arms -clasping himself, as if to hold himself together and limped -towards the low church wall. As I saw him go, picking his way among -the nettles, and among the brambles that bound the green mounds, he -looked in my young eyes as if he were eluding the hands of the dead -people, stretching up cautiously out of their graves, to get a -twist upon his ankle and pull him in. -When he came to the low church wall, he got over it, like a man -whose legs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for -me. When I saw him turning, I set my face towards home, and made -the best use of my legs. But presently I looked over my shoulder, -and saw him going on again towards the river, still hugging himself -in both arms, and picking his way with his sore feet among the -great stones dropped into the marshes here and there, for -steppingplaces when the rains were heavy, or the tide was in. -The marshes were just a long black horizontal line then, as I -stopped to look after him and the river was just another -horizontal line, not nearly so broad nor yet so black and the sky -was just a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines -intermixed. On the edge of the river I could faintly make out the -only two black things in all the prospect that seemed to be -standing upright one of these was the beacon by which the sailors -steered like an unhooped cask upon a pole an ugly thing when -you were near it the other a gibbet, with some chains hanging to -it which had once held a pirate. The man was limping on towards -this latter, as if he were the pirate come to life, and come down, -and going back to hook himself up again. It gave me a terrible turn -when I thought so and as I saw the cattle lifting their heads to -gaze after him, I wondered whether they thought so too. I looked -all round for the horrible young man, and could see no signs of -him. But, now I was frightened again, and ran home without -stopping. -Chapter -My sister, Mrs. Joe Gargery, was more than twenty years older than -I, and had established a great reputation with herself and the -neighbours because she had brought me up "by hand." Having at that -time to find out for myself what the expression meant, and knowing -her to have a hard and heavy hand, and to be much in the habit of -laying it upon her husband as well as upon me, I supposed that Joe -Gargery and I were both brought up by hand. -She was not a goodlooking woman, my sister and I had a general -impression that she must have made Joe Gargery marry her by hand. -Joe was a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his -smooth face, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue that they -seemed to have somehow got mixed with their own whites. He was a -mild, goodnatured, sweettempered, easygoing, foolish, dear -fellow a sort of Hercules in strength, and also in weakness. -My sister, Mrs. Joe, with black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing -redness of skin that I sometimes used to wonder whether it was -possible she washed herself with a nutmeggrater instead of soap. -She was tall and bony, and almost always wore a coarse apron, -fastened over her figure behind with two loops, and having a square -impregnable bib in front, that was stuck full of pins and needles. -She made it a powerful merit in herself, and a strong reproach -against Joe, that she wore this apron so much. Though I really see -no reason why she should have worn it at all or why, if she did -wear it at all, she should not have taken it off, every day of her -life. -Joe's forge adjoined our house, which was a wooden house, as many -of the dwellings in our country were most of them, at that time. -When I ran home from the churchyard, the forge was shut up, and Joe -was sitting alone in the kitchen. Joe and I being fellowsufferers, -and having confidences as such, Joe imparted a confidence to me, -the moment I raised the latch of the door and peeped in at him -opposite to it, sitting in the chimney corner. -"Mrs. Joe has been out a dozen times, looking for you, Pip. And -she's out now, making it a baker's dozen." -"Is she?" -"Yes, Pip," said Joe "and what's worse, she's got Tickler with -her." -At this dismal intelligence, I twisted the only button on my -waistcoat round and round, and looked in great depression at the -fire. Tickler was a waxended piece of cane, worn smooth by -collision with my tickled frame. -"She sot down," said Joe, "and she got up, and she made a grab at -Tickler, and she Rampaged out. That's what she did," said Joe, -slowly clearing the fire between the lower bars with the poker, and -looking at it "she Rampaged out, Pip." -"Has she been gone long, Joe?" I always treated him as a larger -species of child, and as no more than my equal. -"Well," said Joe, glancing up at the Dutch clock, "she's been on -the Rampage, this last spell, about five minutes, Pip. She's a -coming Get behind the door, old chap, and have the jacktowel -betwixt you." -I took the advice. My sister, Mrs. Joe, throwing the door wide open, -and finding an obstruction behind it, immediately divined the -cause, and applied Tickler to its further investigation. She -concluded by throwing me I often served as a connubial missile -at Joe, who, glad to get hold of me on any terms, passed me on into -the chimney and quietly fenced me up there with his great leg. -"Where have you been, you young monkey?" said Mrs. Joe, stamping her -foot. "Tell me directly what you've been doing to wear me away with -fret and fright and worrit, or I'd have you out of that corner if -you was fifty Pips, and he was five hundred Gargerys." -"I have only been to the churchyard," said I, from my stool, crying -and rubbing myself. -"Churchyard" repeated my sister. "If it warn't for me you'd have -been to the churchyard long ago, and stayed there. Who brought you -up by hand?" -"You did," said I. -"And why did I do it, I should like to know?" exclaimed my sister. -I whimpered, "I don't know." -"I don't" said my sister. "I'd never do it again I know that. I -may truly say I've never had this apron of mine off, since born you -were. It's bad enough to be a blacksmith's wife and him a Gargery -without being your mother." -My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately -at the fire. For, the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed -leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful -pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering -premises, rose before me in the avenging coals. -"Hah" said Mrs. Joe, restoring Tickler to his station. "Churchyard, -indeed You may well say churchyard, you two." One of us, -bythebye, had not said it at all. "You'll drive me to the -churchyard betwixt you, one of these days, and oh, a prrrecious -pair you'd be without me" -As she applied herself to set the teathings, Joe peeped down at me -over his leg, as if he were mentally casting me and himself up, and -calculating what kind of pair we practically should make, under the -grievous circumstances foreshadowed. After that, he sat feeling his -rightside flaxen curls and whisker, and following Mrs. Joe about -with his blue eyes, as his manner always was at squally times. -My sister had a trenchant way of cutting our breadandbutter for -us, that never varied. First, with her left hand she jammed the -loaf hard and fast against her bib where it sometimes got a pin -into it, and sometimes a needle, which we afterwards got into our -mouths. Then she took some butter not too much on a knife and -spread it on the loaf, in an apothecary kind of way, as if she were -making a plaister using both sides of the knife with a slapping -dexterity, and trimming and moulding the butter off round the -crust. Then, she gave the knife a final smart wipe on the edge of -the plaister, and then sawed a very thick round off the loaf which -she finally, before separating from the loaf, hewed into two -halves, of which Joe got one, and I the other. -On the present occasion, though I was hungry, I dared not eat my -slice. I felt that I must have something in reserve for my dreadful -acquaintance, and his ally the still more dreadful young man. I -knew Mrs. Joe's housekeeping to be of the strictest kind, and that -my larcenous researches might find nothing available in the safe. -Therefore I resolved to put my hunk of breadandbutter down the -leg of my trousers. -The effort of resolution necessary to the achievement of this -purpose, I found to be quite awful. It was as if I had to make up -my mind to leap from the top of a high house, or plunge into a -great depth of water. And it was made the more difficult by the -unconscious Joe. In our alreadymentioned freemasonry as -fellowsufferers, and in his goodnatured companionship with me, it -was our evening habit to compare the way we bit through our slices, -by silently holding them up to each other's admiration now and then -which stimulated us to new exertions. Tonight, Joe several times -invited me, by the display of his fastdiminishing slice, to enter -upon our usual friendly competition but he found me, each time, -with my yellow mug of tea on one knee, and my untouched -breadandbutter on the other. At last, I desperately considered -that the thing I contemplated must be done, and that it had best be -done in the least improbable manner consistent with the -circumstances. I took advantage of a moment when Joe had just -looked at me, and got my breadandbutter down my leg. -Joe was evidently made uncomfortable by what he supposed to be my -loss of appetite, and took a thoughtful bite out of his slice, -which he didn't seem to enjoy. He turned it about in his mouth much -longer than usual, pondering over it a good deal, and after all -gulped it down like a pill. He was about to take another bite, and -had just got his head on one side for a good purchase on it, when -his eye fell on me, and he saw that my breadandbutter was gone. -The wonder and consternation with which Joe stopped on the -threshold of his bite and stared at me, were too evident to escape -my sister's observation. -"What's the matter now?" said she, smartly, as she put down her -cup. -"I say, you know" muttered Joe, shaking his head at me in very -serious remonstrance. "Pip, old chap You'll do yourself a -mischief. It'll stick somewhere. You can't have chawed it, Pip." -"What's the matter now?" repeated my sister, more sharply than -before. -"If you can cough any trifle on it up, Pip, I'd recommend you to do -it," said Joe, all aghast. "Manners is manners, but still your -elth's your elth." -By this time, my sister was quite desperate, so she pounced on Joe, -and, taking him by the two whiskers, knocked his head for a little -while against the wall behind him while I sat in the corner, -looking guiltily on. -"Now, perhaps you'll mention what's the matter," said my sister, -out of breath, "you staring great stuck pig." -Joe looked at her in a helpless way then took a helpless bite, and -looked at me again. -"You know, Pip," said Joe, solemnly, with his last bite in his -cheek and speaking in a confidential voice, as if we two were quite -alone, "you and me is always friends, and I'd be the last to tell -upon you, any time. But such a" he moved his chair and looked -about the floor between us, and then again at me "such a most -oncommon Bolt as that" -"Been bolting his food, has he?" cried my sister. -"You know, old chap," said Joe, looking at me, and not at Mrs. Joe, -with his bite still in his cheek, "I Bolted, myself, when I was -your age frequent and as a boy I've been among a many Bolters -but I never see your Bolting equal yet, Pip, and it's a mercy you -ain't Bolted dead." -My sister made a dive at me, and fished me up by the hair saying -nothing more than the awful words, "You come along and be dosed." -Some medical beast had revived Tarwater in those days as a fine -medicine, and Mrs. Joe always kept a supply of it in the cupboard -having a belief in its virtues correspondent to its nastiness. At -the best of times, so much of this elixir was administered to me as -a choice restorative, that I was conscious of going about, smelling -like a new fence. On this particular evening the urgency of my case -demanded a pint of this mixture, which was poured down my throat, -for my greater comfort, while Mrs. Joe held my head under her arm, -as a boot would be held in a bootjack. Joe got off with half a -pint but was made to swallow that much to his disturbance, as he -sat slowly munching and meditating before the fire, "because he had -had a turn." Judging from myself, I should say he certainly had a -turn afterwards, if he had had none before. -Conscience is a dreadful thing when it accuses man or boy but -when, in the case of a boy, that secret burden cooperates with -another secret burden down the leg of his trousers, it is as I can -testify a great punishment. The guilty knowledge that I was going -to rob Mrs. Joe I never thought I was going to rob Joe, for I -never thought of any of the housekeeping property as his united -to the necessity of always keeping one hand on my breadandbutter -as I sat, or when I was ordered about the kitchen on any small -errand, almost drove me out of my mind. Then, as the marsh winds -made the fire glow and flare, I thought I heard the voice outside, -of the man with the iron on his leg who had sworn me to secrecy, -declaring that he couldn't and wouldn't starve until tomorrow, but -must be fed now. At other times, I thought, What if the young man -who was with so much difficulty restrained from imbruing his hands -in me, should yield to a constitutional impatience, or should -mistake the time, and should think himself accredited to my heart -and liver tonight, instead of tomorrow If ever anybody's hair -stood on end with terror, mine must have done so then. But, -perhaps, nobody's ever did? -It was Christmas Eve, and I had to stir the pudding for next day, -with a copperstick, from seven to eight by the Dutch clock. I -tried it with the load upon my leg and that made me think afresh -of the man with the load on his leg, and found the tendency of -exercise to bring the breadandbutter out at my ankle, quite -unmanageable. Happily, I slipped away, and deposited that part of -my conscience in my garret bedroom. -"Hark" said I, when I had done my stirring, and was taking a final -warm in the chimney corner before being sent up to bed "was that -great guns, Joe?" -"Ah" said Joe. "There's another conwict off." -"What does that mean, Joe?" said I. -Mrs. Joe, who always took explanations upon herself, said, -snappishly, "Escaped. Escaped." Administering the definition like -Tarwater. -While Mrs. Joe sat with her head bending over her needlework, I put -my mouth into the forms of saying to Joe, "What's a convict?" Joe -put his mouth into the forms of returning such a highly elaborate -answer, that I could make out nothing of it but the single word -"Pip." -"There was a conwict off last night," said Joe, aloud, "after -sunsetgun. And they fired warning of him. And now, it appears -they're firing warning of another." -"Who's firing?" said I. -"Drat that boy," interposed my sister, frowning at me over her -work, "what a questioner he is. Ask no questions, and you'll be -told no lies." -It was not very polite to herself, I thought, to imply that I should -be told lies by her, even if I did ask questions. But she never was -polite, unless there was company. -At this point, Joe greatly augmented my curiosity by taking the -utmost pains to open his mouth very wide, and to put it into the -form of a word that looked to me like "sulks." Therefore, I -naturally pointed to Mrs. Joe, and put my mouth into the form of -saying "her?" But Joe wouldn't hear of that, at all, and again -opened his mouth very wide, and shook the form of a most emphatic -word out of it. But I could make nothing of the word. -"Mrs. Joe," said I, as a last resort, "I should like to know if -you wouldn't much mind where the firing comes from?" -"Lord bless the boy" exclaimed my sister, as if she didn't quite -mean that, but rather the contrary. "From the Hulks" -"Ohh" said I, looking at Joe. "Hulks" -Joe gave a reproachful cough, as much as to say, "Well, I told you -so." -"And please what's Hulks?" said I. -"That's the way with this boy" exclaimed my sister, pointing me -out with her needle and thread, and shaking her head at me. "Answer -him one question, and he'll ask you a dozen directly. Hulks are -prisonships, right 'cross th' meshes." We always used that name -for marshes, in our country. -"I wonder who's put into prisonships, and why they're put there?" -said I, in a general way, and with quiet desperation. -It was too much for Mrs. Joe, who immediately rose. "I tell you -what, young fellow," said she, "I didn't bring you up by hand to -badger people's lives out. It would be blame to me, and not praise, -if I had. People are put in the Hulks because they murder, and -because they rob, and forge, and do all sorts of bad and they -always begin by asking questions. Now, you get along to bed" -I was never allowed a candle to light me to bed, and, as I went -upstairs in the dark, with my head tingling from Mrs. Joe's -thimble having played the tambourine upon it, to accompany her last -words I felt fearfully sensible of the great convenience that the -Hulks were handy for me. I was clearly on my way there. I had begun -by asking questions, and I was going to rob Mrs. Joe. -Since that time, which is far enough away now, I have often thought -that few people know what secrecy there is in the young, under -terror. No matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be -terror. I was in mortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart -and liver I was in mortal terror of my interlocutor with the -ironed leg I was in mortal terror of myself, from whom an awful -promise had been extracted I had no hope of deliverance through my -allpowerful sister, who repulsed me at every turn I am afraid to -think of what I might have done, on requirement, in the secrecy of -my terror. -If I slept at all that night, it was only to imagine myself -drifting down the river on a strong springtide, to the Hulks a -ghostly pirate calling out to me through a speakingtrumpet, as I -passed the gibbetstation, that I had better come ashore and be -hanged there at once, and not put it off. I was afraid to sleep, -even if I had been inclined, for I knew that at the first faint -dawn of morning I must rob the pantry. There was no doing it in the -night, for there was no getting a light by easy friction then to -have got one, I must have struck it out of flint and steel, and -have made a noise like the very pirate himself rattling his chains. -As soon as the great black velvet pall outside my little window was -shot with grey, I got up and went down stairs every board upon the -way, and every crack in every board, calling after me, "Stop -thief" and "Get up, Mrs. Joe" In the pantry, which was far more -abundantly supplied than usual, owing to the season, I was very -much alarmed, by a hare hanging up by the heels, whom I rather -thought I caught, when my back was half turned, winking. I had no -time for verification, no time for selection, no time for anything, -for I had no time to spare. I stole some bread, some rind of -cheese, about half a jar of mincemeat which I tied up in my -pockethandkerchief with my last night's slice, some brandy from a -stone bottle which I decanted into a glass bottle I had secretly -used for making that intoxicating fluid, Spanishliquoricewater, -up in my room diluting the stone bottle from a jug in the kitchen -cupboard, a meat bone with very little on it, and a beautiful -round compact pork pie. I was nearly going away without the pie, -but I was tempted to mount upon a shelf, to look what it was that -was put away so carefully in a covered earthen ware dish in a -corner, and I found it was the pie, and I took it, in the hope that -it was not intended for early use, and would not be missed for some -time. -There was a door in the kitchen, communicating with the forge I -unlocked and unbolted that door, and got a file from among Joe's -tools. Then, I put the fastenings as I had found them, opened the -door at which I had entered when I ran home last night, shut it, -and ran for the misty marshes. -Chapter -It was a rimy morning, and very damp. I had seen the damp lying on -the outside of my little window, as if some goblin had been crying -there all night, and using the window for a pockethandkerchief. -Now, I saw the damp lying on the bare hedges and spare grass, like -a coarser sort of spiders' webs hanging itself from twig to twig -and blade to blade. On every rail and gate, wet lay clammy and the -marshmist was so thick, that the wooden finger on the post -directing people to our village a direction which they never -accepted, for they never came there was invisible to me until I -was quite close under it. Then, as I looked up at it, while it -dripped, it seemed to my oppressed conscience like a phantom -devoting me to the Hulks. -The mist was heavier yet when I got out upon the marshes, so that -instead of my running at everything, everything seemed to run at -me. This was very disagreeable to a guilty mind. The gates and -dykes and banks came bursting at me through the mist, as if they -cried as plainly as could be, "A boy with Somebodyelse's pork pie -Stop him" The cattle came upon me with like suddenness, staring -out of their eyes, and steaming out of their nostrils, "Holloa, -young thief" One black ox, with a white cravat on who even had -to my awakened conscience something of a clerical air fixed me so -obstinately with his eyes, and moved his blunt head round in such -an accusatory manner as I moved round, that I blubbered out to him, -"I couldn't help it, sir It wasn't for myself I took it" Upon -which he put down his head, blew a cloud of smoke out of his nose, -and vanished with a kickup of his hindlegs and a flourish of his -tail. -All this time, I was getting on towards the river but however fast -I went, I couldn't warm my feet, to which the damp cold seemed -riveted, as the iron was riveted to the leg of the man I was -running to meet. I knew my way to the Battery, pretty straight, for -I had been down there on a Sunday with Joe, and Joe, sitting on an -old gun, had told me that when I was 'prentice to him regularly -bound, we would have such Larks there However, in the confusion of -the mist, I found myself at last too far to the right, and -consequently had to try back along the riverside, on the bank of -loose stones above the mud and the stakes that staked the tide out. -Making my way along here with all despatch, I had just crossed a -ditch which I knew to be very near the Battery, and had just -scrambled up the mound beyond the ditch, when I saw the man sitting -before me. His back was towards me, and he had his arms folded, and -was nodding forward, heavy with sleep. -I thought he would be more glad if I came upon him with his -breakfast, in that unexpected manner, so I went forward softly and -touched him on the shoulder. He instantly jumped up, and it was not -the same man, but another man -And yet this man was dressed in coarse grey, too, and had a great -iron on his leg, and was lame, and hoarse, and cold, and was -everything that the other man was except that he had not the same -face, and had a flat broadbrimmed lowcrowned felt that on. All -this, I saw in a moment, for I had only a moment to see it in he -swore an oath at me, made a hit at me it was a round weak blow -that missed me and almost knocked himself down, for it made him -stumble and then he ran into the mist, stumbling twice as he went, -and I lost him. -"It's the young man" I thought, feeling my heart shoot as I -identified him. I dare say I should have felt a pain in my liver, -too, if I had known where it was. -I was soon at the Battery, after that, and there was the right -manhugging himself and limping to and fro, as if he had never all -night left off hugging and limping waiting for me. He was awfully -cold, to be sure. I half expected to see him drop down before my -face and die of deadly cold. His eyes looked so awfully hungry, -too, that when I handed him the file and he laid it down on the -grass, it occurred to me he would have tried to eat it, if he had -not seen my bundle. He did not turn me upside down, this time, to -get at what I had, but left me right side upwards while I opened -the bundle and emptied my pockets. -"What's in the bottle, boy?" said he. -"Brandy," said I. -He was already handing mincemeat down his throat in the most -curious manner more like a man who was putting it away somewhere -in a violent hurry, than a man who was eating it but he left off -to take some of the liquor. He shivered all the while, so -violently, that it was quite as much as he could do to keep the -neck of the bottle between his teeth, without biting it off. -"I think you have got the ague," said I. -"I'm much of your opinion, boy," said he. -"It's bad about here," I told him. "You've been lying out on the -meshes, and they're dreadful aguish. Rheumatic too." -"I'll eat my breakfast afore they're the death of me," said he. -"I'd do that, if I was going to be strung up to that there gallows -as there is over there, directly afterwards. I'll beat the shivers -so far, I'll bet you." -He was gobbling mincemeat, meatbone, bread, cheese, and pork pie, -all at once staring distrustfully while he did so at the mist all -round us, and often stopping even stopping his jaws to listen. -Some real or fancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing -of beast upon the marsh, now gave him a start, and he said, -suddenly -"You're not a deceiving imp? You brought no one with you?" -"No, sir No" -"Nor giv' no one the office to follow you?" -"No" -"Well," said he, "I believe you. You'd be but a fierce young hound -indeed, if at your time of life you could help to hunt a wretched -warmint, hunted as near death and dunghill as this poor wretched -warmint is" -Something clicked in his throat, as if he had works in him like a -clock, and was going to strike. And he smeared his ragged rough -sleeve over his eyes. -Pitying his desolation, and watching him as he gradually settled -down upon the pie, I made bold to say, "I am glad you enjoy it." -"Did you speak?" -"I said I was glad you enjoyed it." -"Thankee, my boy. I do." -I had often watched a large dog of ours eating his food and I now -noticed a decided similarity between the dog's way of eating, and -the man's. The man took strong sharp sudden bites, just like the -dog. He swallowed, or rather snapped up, every mouthful, too soon -and too fast and he looked sideways here and there while he ate, -as if he thought there was danger in every direction, of somebody's -coming to take the pie away. He was altogether too unsettled in his -mind over it, to appreciate it comfortably, I thought, or to have -anybody to dine with him, without making a chop with his jaws at -the visitor. In all of which particulars he was very like the dog. -"I am afraid you won't leave any of it for him," said I, timidly -after a silence during which I had hesitated as to the politeness -of making the remark. "There's no more to be got where that came -from." It was the certainty of this fact that impelled me to offer -the hint. -"Leave any for him? Who's him?" said my friend, stopping in his -crunching of piecrust. -"The young man. That you spoke of. That was hid with you." -"Oh ah" he returned, with something like a gruff laugh. "Him? Yes, -yes He don't want no wittles." -"I thought he looked as if he did," said I. -The man stopped eating, and regarded me with the keenest scrutiny -and the greatest surprise. -"Looked? When?" -"Just now." -"Where?" -"Yonder," said I, pointing "over there, where I found him nodding -asleep, and thought it was you." -He held me by the collar and stared at me so, that I began to think -his first idea about cutting my throat had revived. -"Dressed like you, you know, only with a hat," I explained, -trembling "and and" I was very anxious to put this delicately -"and with the same reason for wanting to borrow a file. Didn't -you hear the cannon last night?" -"Then, there was firing" he said to himself. -"I wonder you shouldn't have been sure of that," I returned, "for -we heard it up at home, and that's further away, and we were shut -in besides." -"Why, see now" said he. "When a man's alone on these flats, with a -light head and a light stomach, perishing of cold and want, he -hears nothin' all night, but guns firing, and voices calling. -Hears? He sees the soldiers, with their red coats lighted up by the -torches carried afore, closing in round him. Hears his number -called, hears himself challenged, hears the rattle of the muskets, -hears the orders 'Make ready Present Cover him steady, men' and -is laid hands on and there's nothin' Why, if I see one pursuing -party last night coming up in order, Damn 'em, with their tramp, -tramp I see a hundred. And as to firing Why, I see the mist -shake with the cannon, arter it was broad day But this man" he -had said all the rest, as if he had forgotten my being there "did -you notice anything in him?" -"He had a badly bruised face," said I, recalling what I hardly knew -I knew. -"Not here?" exclaimed the man, striking his left cheek mercilessly, -with the flat of his hand. -"Yes, there" -"Where is he?" He crammed what little food was left, into the -breast of his grey jacket. "Show me the way he went. I'll pull him -down, like a bloodhound. Curse this iron on my sore leg Give us -hold of the file, boy." -I indicated in what direction the mist had shrouded the other man, -and he looked up at it for an instant. But he was down on the rank -wet grass, filing at his iron like a madman, and not minding me or -minding his own leg, which had an old chafe upon it and was bloody, -but which he handled as roughly as if it had no more feeling in it -than the file. I was very much afraid of him again, now that he had -worked himself into this fierce hurry, and I was likewise very much -afraid of keeping away from home any longer. I told him I must go, -but he took no notice, so I thought the best thing I could do was -to slip off. The last I saw of him, his head was bent over his knee -and he was working hard at his fetter, muttering impatient -imprecations at it and at his leg. The last I heard of him, I -stopped in the mist to listen, and the file was still going. -Chapter -I fully expected to find a Constable in the kitchen, waiting to -take me up. But not only was there no Constable there, but no -discovery had yet been made of the robbery. Mrs. Joe was -prodigiously busy in getting the house ready for the festivities of -the day, and Joe had been put upon the kitchen doorstep to keep -him out of the dustpan an article into which his destiny always -led him sooner or later, when my sister was vigorously reaping the -floors of her establishment. -"And where the deuce ha' you been?" was Mrs. Joe's Christmas -salutation, when I and my conscience showed ourselves. -I said I had been down to hear the Carols. "Ah well" observed Mrs. -Joe. "You might ha' done worse." Not a doubt of that, I thought. -"Perhaps if I warn't a blacksmith's wife, and what's the same -thing a slave with her apron never off, I should have been to hear -the Carols," said Mrs. Joe. "I'm rather partial to Carols, myself, -and that's the best of reasons for my never hearing any." -Joe, who had ventured into the kitchen after me as the dustpan had -retired before us, drew the back of his hand across his nose with a -conciliatory air when Mrs. Joe darted a look at him, and, when her -eyes were withdrawn, secretly crossed his two forefingers, and -exhibited them to me, as our token that Mrs. Joe was in a cross -temper. This was so much her normal state, that Joe and I would -often, for weeks together, be, as to our fingers, like monumental -Crusaders as to their legs. -We were to have a superb dinner, consisting of a leg of pickled -pork and greens, and a pair of roast stuffed fowls. A handsome -mincepie had been made yesterday morning which accounted for the -mincemeat not being missed, and the pudding was already on the -boil. These extensive arrangements occasioned us to be cut off -unceremoniously in respect of breakfast "for I an't," said Mrs. -Joe, "I an't agoing to have no formal cramming and busting and -washing up now, with what I've got before me, I promise you" -So, we had our slices served out, as if we were two thousand troops -on a forced march instead of a man and boy at home and we took -gulps of milk and water, with apologetic countenances, from a jug -on the dresser. In the meantime, Mrs. Joe put clean white curtains -up, and tacked a new floweredflounce across the wide chimney to -replace the old one, and uncovered the little state parlour across -the passage, which was never uncovered at any other time, but -passed the rest of the year in a cool haze of silver paper, which -even extended to the four little white crockery poodles on the -mantelshelf, each with a black nose and a basket of flowers in his -mouth, and each the counterpart of the other. Mrs. Joe was a very -clean housekeeper, but had an exquisite art of making her -cleanliness more uncomfortable and unacceptable than dirt itself. -Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and some people do the same by -their religion. -My sister having so much to do, was going to church vicariously -that is to say, Joe and I were going. In his working clothes, Joe -was a wellknit characteristiclooking blacksmith in his holiday -clothes, he was more like a scarecrow in good circumstances, than -anything else. Nothing that he wore then, fitted him or seemed to -belong to him and everything that he wore then, grazed him. On the -present festive occasion he emerged from his room, when the blithe -bells were going, the picture of misery, in a full suit of Sunday -penitentials. As to me, I think my sister must have had some -general idea that I was a young offender whom an Accoucheur -Policemen had taken up on my birthday and delivered over to her, -to be dealt with according to the outraged majesty of the law. I -was always treated as if I had insisted on being born, in -opposition to the dictates of reason, religion, and morality, and -against the dissuading arguments of my best friends. Even when I -was taken to have a new suit of clothes, the tailor had orders to -make them like a kind of Reformatory, and on no account to let me -have the free use of my limbs. -Joe and I going to church, therefore, must have been a moving -spectacle for compassionate minds. Yet, what I suffered outside, -was nothing to what I underwent within. The terrors that had -assailed me whenever Mrs. Joe had gone near the pantry, or out of -the room, were only to be equalled by the remorse with which my -mind dwelt on what my hands had done. Under the weight of my wicked -secret, I pondered whether the Church would be powerful enough to -shield me from the vengeance of the terrible young man, if I -divulged to that establishment. I conceived the idea that the time -when the banns were read and when the clergyman said, "Ye are now -to declare it" would be the time for me to rise and propose a -private conference in the vestry. I am far from being sure that I -might not have astonished our small congregation by resorting to -this extreme measure, but for its being Christmas Day and no -Sunday. -Mr. Wopsle, the clerk at church, was to dine with us and Mr. Hubble -the wheelwright and Mrs. Hubble and Uncle Pumblechook Joe's uncle, -but Mrs. Joe appropriated him, who was a welltodo cornchandler -in the nearest town, and drove his own chaisecart. The dinner hour -was halfpast one. When Joe and I got home, we found the table -laid, and Mrs. Joe dressed, and the dinner dressing, and the front -door unlocked it never was at any other time for the company to -enter by, and everything most splendid. And still, not a word of -the robbery. -The time came, without bringing with it any relief to my feelings, -and the company came. Mr. Wopsle, united to a Roman nose and a -large shining bald forehead, had a deep voice which he was -uncommonly proud of indeed it was understood among his -acquaintance that if you could only give him his head, he would -read the clergyman into fits he himself confessed that if the -Church was "thrown open," meaning to competition, he would not -despair of making his mark in it. The Church not being "thrown -open," he was, as I have said, our clerk. But he punished the -Amens tremendously and when he gave out the psalm always giving -the whole verse he looked all round the congregation first, as -much as to say, "You have heard my friend overhead oblige me with -your opinion of this style" -I opened the door to the company making believe that it was a -habit of ours to open that door and I opened it first to Mr. -Wopsle, next to Mr. and Mrs. Hubble, and last of all to Uncle -Pumblechook. N.B., I was not allowed to call him uncle, under the -severest penalties. -"Mrs. Joe," said Uncle Pumblechook a large hardbreathing -middleaged slow man, with a mouth like a fish, dull staring eyes, -and sandy hair standing upright on his head, so that he looked as -if he had just been all but choked, and had that moment come to -"I have brought you, as the compliments of the season I have -brought you, Mum, a bottle of sherry wine and I have brought you, -Mum, a bottle of port wine." -Every Christmas Day he presented himself, as a profound novelty, -with exactly the same words, and carrying the two bottles like -dumbbells. Every Christmas Day, Mrs. Joe replied, as she now -replied, "Oh, Un cle Pum ble chook This IS kind" Every -Christmas Day, he retorted, as he now retorted, "It's no more than -your merits. And now are you all bobbish, and how's Sixpennorth of -halfpence?" meaning me. -We dined on these occasions in the kitchen, and adjourned, for the -nuts and oranges and apples, to the parlour which was a change -very like Joe's change from his working clothes to his Sunday -dress. My sister was uncommonly lively on the present occasion, and -indeed was generally more gracious in the society of Mrs. Hubble -than in other company. I remember Mrs. Hubble as a little curly -sharpedged person in skyblue, who held a conventionally juvenile -position, because she had married Mr. Hubble I don't know at what -remote period when she was much younger than he. I remember Mr -Hubble as a tough highshouldered stooping old man, of a sawdusty -fragrance, with his legs extraordinarily wide apart so that in my -short days I always saw some miles of open country between them -when I met him coming up the lane. -Among this good company I should have felt myself, even if I hadn't -robbed the pantry, in a false position. Not because I was squeezed -in at an acute angle of the tablecloth, with the table in my -chest, and the Pumblechookian elbow in my eye, nor because I was -not allowed to speak I didn't want to speak, nor because I was -regaled with the scaly tips of the drumsticks of the fowls, and -with those obscure corners of pork of which the pig, when living, -had had the least reason to be vain. No I should not have minded -that, if they would only have left me alone. But they wouldn't -leave me alone. They seemed to think the opportunity lost, if they -failed to point the conversation at me, every now and then, and -stick the point into me. I might have been an unfortunate little -bull in a Spanish arena, I got so smartingly touched up by these -moral goads. -It began the moment we sat down to dinner. Mr. Wopsle said grace -with theatrical declamation as it now appears to me, something -like a religious cross of the Ghost in Hamlet with Richard the -Third and ended with the very proper aspiration that we might be -truly grateful. Upon which my sister fixed me with her eye, and -said, in a low reproachful voice, "Do you hear that? Be grateful." -"Especially," said Mr. Pumblechook, "be grateful, boy, to them which -brought you up by hand." -Mrs. Hubble shook her head, and contemplating me with a mournful -presentiment that I should come to no good, asked, "Why is it that -the young are never grateful?" This moral mystery seemed too much -for the company until Mr. Hubble tersely solved it by saying, -"Naterally wicious." Everybody then murmured "True" and looked at -me in a particularly unpleasant and personal manner. -Joe's station and influence were something feebler if possible -when there was company, than when there was none. But he always -aided and comforted me when he could, in some way of his own, and -he always did so at dinnertime by giving me gravy, if there were -any. There being plenty of gravy today, Joe spooned into my plate, -at this point, about half a pint. -A little later on in the dinner, Mr. Wopsle reviewed the sermon with -some severity, and intimated in the usual hypothetical case of -the Church being "thrown open" what kind of sermon he would have -given them. After favouring them with some heads of that discourse, -he remarked that he considered the subject of the day's homily, -illchosen which was the less excusable, he added, when there were -so many subjects "going about." -"True again," said Uncle Pumblechook. "You've hit it, sir Plenty of -subjects going about, for them that know how to put salt upon their -tails. That's what's wanted. A man needn't go far to find a -subject, if he's ready with his saltbox." Mr. Pumblechook added, -after a short interval of reflection, "Look at Pork alone. There's -a subject If you want a subject, look at Pork" -"True, sir. Many a moral for the young," returned Mr. Wopsle and I -knew he was going to lug me in, before he said it "might be -deduced from that text." -"You listen to this," said my sister to me, in a severe -parenthesis. -Joe gave me some more gravy. -"Swine," pursued Mr. Wopsle, in his deepest voice, and pointing his -fork at my blushes, as if he were mentioning my Christian name -"Swine were the companions of the prodigal. The gluttony of Swine -is put before us, as an example to the young." I thought this -pretty well in him who had been praising up the pork for being so -plump and juicy. "What is detestable in a pig, is more detestable -in a boy." -"Or girl," suggested Mr. Hubble. -"Of course, or girl, Mr. Hubble," assented Mr. Wopsle, rather -irritably, "but there is no girl present." -"Besides," said Mr. Pumblechook, turning sharp on me, "think what -you've got to be grateful for. If you'd been born a Squeaker" -"He was, if ever a child was," said my sister, most emphatically. -Joe gave me some more gravy. -"Well, but I mean a fourfooted Squeaker," said Mr. Pumblechook. "If -you had been born such, would you have been here now? Not you" -"Unless in that form," said Mr. Wopsle, nodding towards the dish. -"But I don't mean in that form, sir," returned Mr. Pumblechook, who -had an objection to being interrupted "I mean, enjoying himself -with his elders and betters, and improving himself with their -conversation, and rolling in the lap of luxury. Would he have been -doing that? No, he wouldn't. And what would have been your -destination?" turning on me again. "You would have been disposed of -for so many shillings according to the market price of the article, -and Dunstable the butcher would have come up to you as you lay in -your straw, and he would have whipped you under his left arm, and -with his right he would have tucked up his frock to get a penknife -from out of his waistcoatpocket, and he would have shed your -blood and had your life. No bringing up by hand then. Not a bit of -it" -Joe offered me more gravy, which I was afraid to take. -"He was a world of trouble to you, ma'am," said Mrs. Hubble, -commiserating my sister. -"Trouble?" echoed my sister "trouble?" and then entered on a -fearful catalogue of all the illnesses I had been guilty of, and -all the acts of sleeplessness I had committed, and all the high -places I had tumbled from, and all the low places I had tumbled -into, and all the injuries I had done myself, and all the times she -had wished me in my grave, and I had contumaciously refused to go -there. -I think the Romans must have aggravated one another very much, with -their noses. Perhaps, they became the restless people they were, in -consequence. Anyhow, Mr. Wopsle's Roman nose so aggravated me, -during the recital of my misdemeanours, that I should have liked to -pull it until he howled. But, all I had endured up to this time, -was nothing in comparison with the awful feelings that took -possession of me when the pause was broken which ensued upon my -sister's recital, and in which pause everybody had looked at me as -I felt painfully conscious with indignation and abhorrence. -"Yet," said Mr. Pumblechook, leading the company gently back to the -theme from which they had strayed, "Pork regarded as biled is -rich, too ain't it?" -"Have a little brandy, uncle," said my sister. -O Heavens, it had come at last He would find it was weak, he would -say it was weak, and I was lost I held tight to the leg of the -table under the cloth, with both hands, and awaited my fate. -My sister went for the stone bottle, came back with the stone -bottle, and poured his brandy out no one else taking any. The -wretched man trifled with his glass took it up, looked at it -through the light, put it down prolonged my misery. All this -time, Mrs. Joe and Joe were briskly clearing the table for the pie -and pudding. -I couldn't keep my eyes off him. Always holding tight by the leg of -the table with my hands and feet, I saw the miserable creature -finger his glass playfully, take it up, smile, throw his head back, -and drink the brandy off. Instantly afterwards, the company were -seized with unspeakable consternation, owing to his springing to -his feet, turning round several times in an appalling spasmodic -whoopingcough dance, and rushing out at the door he then became -visible through the window, violently plunging and expectorating, -making the most hideous faces, and apparently out of his mind. -I held on tight, while Mrs. Joe and Joe ran to him. I didn't know -how I had done it, but I had no doubt I had murdered him somehow. -In my dreadful situation, it was a relief when he was brought back, -and, surveying the company all round as if they had disagreed with -him, sank down into his chair with the one significant gasp, "Tar" -I had filled up the bottle from the tarwater jug. I knew he would -be worse byandby. I moved the table, like a Medium of the present -day, by the vigour of my unseen hold upon it. -"Tar" cried my sister, in amazement. "Why, how ever could Tar come -there?" -But, Uncle Pumblechook, who was omnipotent in that kitchen, -wouldn't hear the word, wouldn't hear of the subject, imperiously -waved it all away with his hand, and asked for hot ginandwater. -My sister, who had begun to be alarmingly meditative, had to employ -herself actively in getting the gin, the hot water, the sugar, and -the lemonpeel, and mixing them. For the time being at least, I was -saved. I still held on to the leg of the table, but clutched it now -with the fervour of gratitude. -By degrees, I became calm enough to release my grasp and partake of -pudding. Mr. Pumblechook partook of pudding. All partook of pudding. -The course terminated, and Mr. Pumblechook had begun to beam under -the genial influence of ginandwater. I began to think I should -get over the day, when my sister said to Joe, "Clean plates -cold." -I clutched the leg of the table again immediately, and pressed it -to my bosom as if it had been the companion of my youth and friend -of my soul. I foresaw what was coming, and I felt that this time I -really was gone. -"You must taste," said my sister, addressing the guests with her -best grace, "You must taste, to finish with, such a delightful and -delicious present of Uncle Pumblechook's" -Must they Let them not hope to taste it -"You must know," said my sister, rising, "it's a pie a savoury -pork pie." -The company murmured their compliments. Uncle Pumblechook, sensible -of having deserved well of his fellowcreatures, said quite -vivaciously, all things considered "Well, Mrs. Joe, we'll do our -best endeavours let us have a cut at this same pie." -My sister went out to get it. I heard her steps proceed to the -pantry. I saw Mr. Pumblechook balance his knife. I saw reawakening -appetite in the Roman nostrils of Mr. Wopsle. I heard Mr. Hubble -remark that "a bit of savoury pork pie would lay atop of anything -you could mention, and do no harm," and I heard Joe say, "You shall -have some, Pip." I have never been absolutely certain whether I -uttered a shrill yell of terror, merely in spirit, or in the bodily -hearing of the company. I felt that I could bear no more, and that -I must run away. I released the leg of the table, and ran for my -life. -But, I ran no further than the house door, for there I ran head -foremost into a party of soldiers with their muskets one of whom -held out a pair of handcuffs to me, saying, "Here you are, look -sharp, come on" -Chapter -The apparition of a file of soldiers ringing down the buttends of -their loaded muskets on our doorstep, caused the dinnerparty to -rise from table in confusion, and caused Mrs. Joe reentering the -kitchen emptyhanded, to stop short and stare, in her wondering -lament of "Gracious goodness gracious me, what's gone with the -pie" -The sergeant and I were in the kitchen when Mrs. Joe stood staring -at which crisis I partially recovered the use of my senses. It was -the sergeant who had spoken to me, and he was now looking round at -the company, with his handcuffs invitingly extended towards them in -his right hand, and his left on my shoulder. -"Excuse me, ladies and gentleman," said the sergeant, "but as I -have mentioned at the door to this smart young shaver" which he -hadn't, "I am on a chase in the name of the king, and I want the -blacksmith." -"And pray what might you want with him?" retorted my sister, quick -to resent his being wanted at all. -"Missis," returned the gallant sergeant, "speaking for myself, I -should reply, the honour and pleasure of his fine wife's -acquaintance speaking for the king, I answer, a little job done." -This was received as rather neat in the sergeant insomuch that Mr -Pumblechook cried audibly, "Good again" -"You see, blacksmith," said the sergeant, who had by this time -picked out Joe with his eye, "we have had an accident with these, -and I find the lock of one of 'em goes wrong, and the coupling -don't act pretty. As they are wanted for immediate service, will -you throw your eye over them?" -Joe threw his eye over them, and pronounced that the job would -necessitate the lighting of his forge fire, and would take nearer -two hours than one, "Will it? Then will you set about it at once, -blacksmith?" said the offhand sergeant, "as it's on his Majesty's -service. And if my men can beat a hand anywhere, they'll make -themselves useful." With that, he called to his men, who came -trooping into the kitchen one after another, and piled their arms -in a corner. And then they stood about, as soldiers do now, with -their hands loosely clasped before them now, resting a knee or a -shoulder now, easing a belt or a pouch now, opening the door to -spit stiffly over their high stocks, out into the yard. -All these things I saw without then knowing that I saw them, for I -was in an agony of apprehension. But, beginning to perceive that -the handcuffs were not for me, and that the military had so far got -the better of the pie as to put it in the background, I collected a -little more of my scattered wits. -"Would you give me the Time?" said the sergeant, addressing himself -to Mr. Pumblechook, as to a man whose appreciative powers justified -the inference that he was equal to the time. -"It's just gone halfpast two." -"That's not so bad," said the sergeant, reflecting "even if I was -forced to halt here nigh two hours, that'll do. How far might you -call yourselves from the marshes, hereabouts? Not above a mile, I -reckon?" -"Just a mile," said Mrs. Joe. -"That'll do. We begin to close in upon 'em about dusk. A little -before dusk, my orders are. That'll do." -"Convicts, sergeant?" asked Mr. Wopsle, in a matterofcourse way. -"Ay" returned the sergeant, "two. They're pretty well known to be -out on the marshes still, and they won't try to get clear of 'em -before dusk. Anybody here seen anything of any such game?" -Everybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence. Nobody -thought of me. -"Well" said the sergeant, "they'll find themselves trapped in a -circle, I expect, sooner than they count on. Now, blacksmith If -you're ready, his Majesty the King is." -Joe had got his coat and waistcoat and cravat off, and his leather -apron on, and passed into the forge. One of the soldiers opened its -wooden windows, another lighted the fire, another turned to at -the bellows, the rest stood round the blaze, which was soon -roaring. Then Joe began to hammer and clink, hammer and clink, and -we all looked on. -The interest of the impending pursuit not only absorbed the general -attention, but even made my sister liberal. She drew a pitcher of -beer from the cask, for the soldiers, and invited the sergeant to -take a glass of brandy. But Mr. Pumblechook said, sharply, "Give him -wine, Mum. I'll engage there's no Tar in that" so, the sergeant -thanked him and said that as he preferred his drink without tar, he -would take wine, if it was equally convenient. When it was given -him, he drank his Majesty's health and Compliments of the Season, -and took it all at a mouthful and smacked his lips. -"Good stuff, eh, sergeant?" said Mr. Pumblechook. -"I'll tell you something," returned the sergeant "I suspect that -stuff's of your providing." -Mr. Pumblechook, with a fat sort of laugh, said, "Ay, ay? Why?" -"Because," returned the sergeant, clapping him on the shoulder, -"you're a man that knows what's what." -"D'ye think so?" said Mr. Pumblechook, with his former laugh. "Have -another glass" -"With you. Hob and nob," returned the sergeant. "The top of mine to -the foot of yours the foot of yours to the top of mine Ring -once, ring twice the best tune on the Musical Glasses Your -health. May you live a thousand years, and never be a worse judge -of the right sort than you are at the present moment of your life" -The sergeant tossed off his glass again and seemed quite ready for -another glass. I noticed that Mr. Pumblechook in his hospitality -appeared to forget that he had made a present of the wine, but took -the bottle from Mrs. Joe and had all the credit of handing it about -in a gush of joviality. Even I got some. And he was so very free of -the wine that he even called for the other bottle, and handed that -about with the same liberality, when the first was gone. -As I watched them while they all stood clustering about the forge, -enjoying themselves so much, I thought what terrible good sauce for -a dinner my fugitive friend on the marshes was. They had not -enjoyed themselves a quarter so much, before the entertainment was -brightened with the excitement he furnished. And now, when they -were all in lively anticipation of "the two villains" being taken, -and when the bellows seemed to roar for the fugitives, the fire to -flare for them, the smoke to hurry away in pursuit of them, Joe to -hammer and clink for them, and all the murky shadows on the wall to -shake at them in menace as the blaze rose and sank and the redhot -sparks dropped and died, the pale afternoon outside, almost seemed -in my pitying young fancy to have turned pale on their account, -poor wretches. -At last, Joe's job was done, and the ringing and roaring stopped. -As Joe got on his coat, he mustered courage to propose that some of -us should go down with the soldiers and see what came of the hunt. -Mr. Pumblechook and Mr. Hubble declined, on the plea of a pipe and -ladies' society but Mr. Wopsle said he would go, if Joe would. Joe -said he was agreeable, and would take me, if Mrs. Joe approved. We -never should have got leave to go, I am sure, but for Mrs. Joe's -curiosity to know all about it and how it ended. As it was, she -merely stipulated, "If you bring the boy back with his head blown -to bits by a musket, don't look to me to put it together again." -The sergeant took a polite leave of the ladies, and parted from Mr. -Pumblechook as from a comrade though I doubt if he were quite as -fully sensible of that gentleman's merits under arid conditions, as -when something moist was going. His men resumed their muskets and -fell in. Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge to keep in -the rear, and to speak no word after we reached the marshes. When -we were all out in the raw air and were steadily moving towards our -business, I treasonably whispered to Joe, "I hope, Joe, we shan't -find them." and Joe whispered to me, "I'd give a shilling if they -had cut and run, Pip." -We were joined by no stragglers from the village, for the weather -was cold and threatening, the way dreary, the footing bad, darkness -coming on, and the people had good fires indoors and were keeping -the day. A few faces hurried to glowing windows and looked after -us, but none came out. We passed the fingerpost, and held straight -on to the churchyard. There, we were stopped a few minutes by a -signal from the sergeant's hand, while two or three of his men -dispersed themselves among the graves, and also examined the porch. -They came in again without finding anything, and then we struck out -on the open marshes, through the gate at the side of the -churchyard. A bitter sleet came rattling against us here on the -east wind, and Joe took me on his back. -Now that we were out upon the dismal wilderness where they little -thought I had been within eight or nine hours and had seen both men -hiding, I considered for the first time, with great dread, if we -should come upon them, would my particular convict suppose that it -was I who had brought the soldiers there? He had asked me if I was -a deceiving imp, and he had said I should be a fierce young hound -if I joined the hunt against him. Would he believe that I was both -imp and hound in treacherous earnest, and had betrayed him? -It was of no use asking myself this question now. There I was, on -Joe's back, and there was Joe beneath me, charging at the ditches -like a hunter, and stimulating Mr. Wopsle not to tumble on his Roman -nose, and to keep up with us. The soldiers were in front of us, -extending into a pretty wide line with an interval between man and -man. We were taking the course I had begun with, and from which I -had diverged in the mist. Either the mist was not out again yet, or -the wind had dispelled it. Under the low red glare of sunset, the -beacon, and the gibbet, and the mound of the Battery, and the -opposite shore of the river, were plain, though all of a watery -lead colour. -With my heart thumping like a blacksmith at Joe's broad shoulder, I -looked all about for any sign of the convicts. I could see none, I -could hear none. Mr. Wopsle had greatly alarmed me more than once, -by his blowing and hard breathing but I knew the sounds by this -time, and could dissociate them from the object of pursuit. I got a -dreadful start, when I thought I heard the file still going but it -was only a sheep bell. The sheep stopped in their eating and looked -timidly at us and the cattle, their heads turned from the wind and -sleet, stared angrily as if they held us responsible for both -annoyances but, except these things, and the shudder of the dying -day in every blade of grass, there was no break in the bleak -stillness of the marshes. -The soldiers were moving on in the direction of the old Battery, -and we were moving on a little way behind them, when, all of a -sudden, we all stopped. For, there had reached us on the wings of -the wind and rain, a long shout. It was repeated. It was at a -distance towards the east, but it was long and loud. Nay, there -seemed to be two or more shouts raised together if one might -judge from a confusion in the sound. -To this effect the sergeant and the nearest men were speaking under -their breath, when Joe and I came up. After another moment's -listening, Joe who was a good judge agreed, and Mr. Wopsle who -was a bad judge agreed. The sergeant, a decisive man, ordered that -the sound should not be answered, but that the course should be -changed, and that his men should make towards it "at the double." -So we slanted to the right where the East was, and Joe pounded -away so wonderfully, that I had to hold on tight to keep my seat. -It was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in the only two words -he spoke all the time, "a Winder." Down banks and up banks, and -over gates, and splashing into dykes, and breaking among coarse -rushes no man cared where he went. As we came nearer to the -shouting, it became more and more apparent that it was made by more -than one voice. Sometimes, it seemed to stop altogether, and then -the soldiers stopped. When it broke out again, the soldiers made -for it at a greater rate than ever, and we after them. After a -while, we had so run it down, that we could hear one voice calling -"Murder" and another voice, "Convicts Runaways Guard This way -for the runaway convicts" Then both voices would seem to be -stifled in a struggle, and then would break out again. And when it -had come to this, the soldiers ran like deer, and Joe too. -The sergeant ran in first, when we had run the noise quite down, -and two of his men ran in close upon him. Their pieces were cocked -and levelled when we all ran in. -"Here are both men" panted the sergeant, struggling at the bottom -of a ditch. "Surrender, you two and confound you for two wild -beasts Come asunder" -Water was splashing, and mud was flying, and oaths were being -sworn, and blows were being struck, when some more men went down -into the ditch to help the sergeant, and dragged out, separately, -my convict and the other one. Both were bleeding and panting and -execrating and struggling but of course I knew them both directly. -"Mind" said my convict, wiping blood from his face with his ragged -sleeves, and shaking torn hair from his fingers "I took him I give -him up to you Mind that" -"It's not much to be particular about," said the sergeant "it'll do -you small good, my man, being in the same plight yourself. -Handcuffs there" -"I don't expect it to do me any good. I don't want it to do me more -good than it does now," said my convict, with a greedy laugh. "I -took him. He knows it. That's enough for me." -The other convict was livid to look at, and, in addition to the old -bruised left side of his face, seemed to be bruised and torn all -over. He could not so much as get his breath to speak, until they -were both separately handcuffed, but leaned upon a soldier to keep -himself from falling. -"Take notice, guard he tried to murder me," were his first words. -"Tried to murder him?" said my convict, disdainfully. "Try, and not -do it? I took him, and giv' him up that's what I done. I not only -prevented him getting off the marshes, but I dragged him here -dragged him this far on his way back. He's a gentleman, if you -please, this villain. Now, the Hulks has got its gentleman again, -through me. Murder him? Worth my while, too, to murder him, when I -could do worse and drag him back" -The other one still gasped, "He tried he tried to murder me. -Bear bear witness." -"Lookee here" said my convict to the sergeant. "Singlehanded I -got clear of the prisonship I made a dash and I done it. I could -ha' got clear of these deathcold flats likewise look at my leg -you won't find much iron on it if I hadn't made the discovery that -he was here. Let him go free? Let him profit by the means as I found -out? Let him make a tool of me afresh and again? Once more? No, no, -no. If I had died at the bottom there" and he made an emphatic -swing at the ditch with his manacled hands "I'd have held to him -with that grip, that you should have been safe to find him in my -hold." -The other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of his -companion, repeated, "He tried to murder me. I should have been a -dead man if you had not come up." -"He lies" said my convict, with fierce energy. "He's a liar born, -and he'll die a liar. Look at his face ain't it written there? Let -him turn those eyes of his on me. I defy him to do it." -The other, with an effort at a scornful smile which could not, -however, collect the nervous working of his mouth into any set -expression looked at the soldiers, and looked about at the -marshes and at the sky, but certainly did not look at the speaker. -"Do you see him?" pursued my convict. "Do you see what a villain he -is? Do you see those grovelling and wandering eyes? That's how he -looked when we were tried together. He never looked at me." -The other, always working and working his dry lips and turning his -eyes restlessly about him far and near, did at last turn them for a -moment on the speaker, with the words, "You are not much to look -at," and with a halftaunting glance at the bound hands. At that -point, my convict became so frantically exasperated, that he would -have rushed upon him but for the interposition of the soldiers. -"Didn't I tell you," said the other convict then, "that he would -murder me, if he could?" And any one could see that he shook with -fear, and that there broke out upon his lips, curious white flakes, -like thin snow. -"Enough of this parley," said the sergeant. "Light those torches." -As one of the soldiers, who carried a basket in lieu of a gun, went -down on his knee to open it, my convict looked round him for the -first time, and saw me. I had alighted from Joe's back on the brink -of the ditch when we came up, and had not moved since. I looked at -him eagerly when he looked at me, and slightly moved my hands and -shook my head. I had been waiting for him to see me, that I might -try to assure him of my innocence. It was not at all expressed to -me that he even comprehended my intention, for he gave me a look -that I did not understand, and it all passed in a moment. But if he -had looked at me for an hour or for a day, I could not have -remembered his face ever afterwards, as having been more attentive. -The soldier with the basket soon got a light, and lighted three or -four torches, and took one himself and distributed the others. It -had been almost dark before, but now it seemed quite dark, and soon -afterwards very dark. Before we departed from that spot, four -soldiers standing in a ring, fired twice into the air. Presently we -saw other torches kindled at some distance behind us, and others on -the marshes on the opposite bank of the river. "All right," said -the sergeant. "March." -We had not gone far when three cannon were fired ahead of us with a -sound that seemed to burst something inside my ear. "You are -expected on board," said the sergeant to my convict "they know you -are coming. Don't straggle, my man. Close up here." -The two were kept apart, and each walked surrounded by a separate -guard. I had hold of Joe's hand now, and Joe carried one of the -torches. Mr. Wopsle had been for going back, but Joe was resolved to -see it out, so we went on with the party. There was a reasonably -good path now, mostly on the edge of the river, with a divergence -here and there where a dyke came, with a miniature windmill on it -and a muddy sluicegate. When I looked round, I could see the other -lights coming in after us. The torches we carried, dropped great -blotches of fire upon the track, and I could see those, too, lying -smoking and flaring. I could see nothing else but black darkness. -Our lights warmed the air about us with their pitchy blaze, and the -two prisoners seemed rather to like that, as they limped along in -the midst of the muskets. We could not go fast, because of their -lameness and they were so spent, that two or three times we had to -halt while they rested. -After an hour or so of this travelling, we came to a rough wooden -hut and a landingplace. There was a guard in the hut, and they -challenged, and the sergeant answered. Then, we went into the hut -where there was a smell of tobacco and whitewash, and a bright -fire, and a lamp, and a stand of muskets, and a drum, and a low -wooden bedstead, like an overgrown mangle without the machinery, -capable of holding about a dozen soldiers all at once. Three or -four soldiers who lay upon it in their greatcoats, were not much -interested in us, but just lifted their heads and took a sleepy -stare, and then lay down again. The sergeant made some kind of -report, and some entry in a book, and then the convict whom I call -the other convict was drafted off with his guard, to go on board -first. -My convict never looked at me, except that once. While we stood in -the hut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or -putting up his feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully -at them as if he pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly, -he turned to the sergeant, and remarked -"I wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent -some persons laying under suspicion alonger me." -"You can say what you like," returned the sergeant, standing coolly -looking at him with his arms folded, "but you have no call to say -it here. You'll have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear -about it, before it's done with, you know." -"I know, but this is another pint, a separate matter. A man can't -starve at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the willage -over yonder where the church stands a'most out on the marshes." -"You mean stole," said the sergeant. -"And I'll tell you where from. From the blacksmith's." -"Halloa" said the sergeant, staring at Joe. -"Halloa, Pip" said Joe, staring at me. -"It was some broken wittles that's what it was and a dram of -liquor, and a pie." -"Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?" -asked the sergeant, confidentially. -"My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, -Pip?" -"So," said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, -and without the least glance at me "so you're the blacksmith, are -you? Than I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie." -"God knows you're welcome to it so far as it was ever mine," -returned Joe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs. Joe. "We don't know -what you have done, but we wouldn't have you starved to death for -it, poor miserable fellowcreatur. Would us, Pip?" -The something that I had noticed before, clicked in the man's -throat again, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and -his guard were ready, so we followed him to the landingplace made -of rough stakes and stones, and saw him put into the boat, which -was rowed by a crew of convicts like himself. No one seemed -surprised to see him, or interested in seeing him, or glad to see -him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word, except that somebody in -the boat growled as if to dogs, "Give way, you" which was the -signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the torches, we saw -the black Hulk lying out a little way from the mud of the shore, like -a wicked Noah's ark. Cribbed and barred and moored by massive rusty -chains, the prisonship seemed in my young eyes to be ironed like -the prisoners. We saw the boat go alongside, and we saw him taken -up the side and disappear. Then, the ends of the torches were flung -hissing into the water, and went out, as if it were all over with -him. -Chapter -My state of mind regarding the pilfering from which I had been so -unexpectedly exonerated, did not impel me to frank disclosure but -I hope it had some dregs of good at the bottom of it. -I do not recall that I felt any tenderness of conscience in -reference to Mrs. Joe, when the fear of being found out was lifted -off me. But I loved Joe perhaps for no better reason in those -early days than because the dear fellow let me love him and, as -to him, my inner self was not so easily composed. It was much upon -my mind particularly when I first saw him looking about for his -file that I ought to tell Joe the whole truth. Yet I did not, and -for the reason that I mistrusted that if I did, he would think me -worse than I was. The fear of losing Joe's confidence, and of -thenceforth sitting in the chimneycorner at night staring drearily -at my for ever lost companion and friend, tied up my tongue. I -morbidly represented to myself that if Joe knew it, I never -afterwards could see him at the fireside feeling his fair whisker, -without thinking that he was meditating on it. That, if Joe knew -it, I never afterwards could see him glance, however casually, at -yesterday's meat or pudding when it came on today's table, without -thinking that he was debating whether I had been in the pantry. -That, if Joe knew it, and at any subsequent period of our joint -domestic life remarked that his beer was flat or thick, the -conviction that he suspected Tar in it, would bring a rush of blood -to my face. In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be -right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be -wrong. I had had no intercourse with the world at that time, and I -imitated none of its many inhabitants who act in this manner. Quite -an untaught genius, I made the discovery of the line of action for -myself. -As I was sleepy before we were far away from the prisonship, Joe -took me on his back again and carried me home. He must have had a -tiresome journey of it, for Mr. Wopsle, being knocked up, was in -such a very bad temper that if the Church had been thrown open, he -would probably have excommunicated the whole expedition, beginning -with Joe and myself. In his lay capacity, he persisted in sitting -down in the damp to such an insane extent, that when his coat was -taken off to be dried at the kitchen fire, the circumstantial -evidence on his trousers would have hanged him if it had been a -capital offence. -By that time, I was staggering on the kitchen floor like a little -drunkard, through having been newly set upon my feet, and through -having been fast asleep, and through waking in the heat and lights -and noise of tongues. As I came to myself with the aid of a heavy -thump between the shoulders, and the restorative exclamation "Yah -Was there ever such a boy as this" from my sister, I found Joe -telling them about the convict's confession, and all the visitors -suggesting different ways by which he had got into the pantry. Mr. -Pumblechook made out, after carefully surveying the premises, that -he had first got upon the roof of the forge, and had then got upon -the roof of the house, and had then let himself down the kitchen -chimney by a rope made of his bedding cut into strips and as Mr. -Pumblechook was very positive and drove his own chaisecart over -everybody it was agreed that it must be so. Mr. Wopsle, indeed, -wildly cried out "No" with the feeble malice of a tired man but, -as he had no theory, and no coat on, he was unanimously set at -nought not to mention his smoking hard behind, as he stood with -his back to the kitchen fire to draw the damp out which was not -calculated to inspire confidence. -This was all I heard that night before my sister clutched me, as a -slumberous offence to the company's eyesight, and assisted me up to -bed with such a strong hand that I seemed to have fifty boots on, -and to be dangling them all against the edges of the stairs. My -state of mind, as I have described it, began before I was up in the -morning, and lasted long after the subject had died out, and had -ceased to be mentioned saving on exceptional occasions. -Chapter -At the time when I stood in the churchyard, reading the family -tombstones, I had just enough learning to be able to spell them -out. My construction even of their simple meaning was not very -correct, for I read "wife of the Above" as a complimentary -reference to my father's exaltation to a better world and if any -one of my deceased relations had been referred to as "Below," I -have no doubt I should have formed the worst opinions of that -member of the family. Neither, were my notions of the theological -positions to which my Catechism bound me, at all accurate for, I -have a lively remembrance that I supposed my declaration that I was -to "walk in the same all the days of my life," laid me under an -obligation always to go through the village from our house in one -particular direction, and never to vary it by turning down by the -wheelwright's or up by the mill. -When I was old enough, I was to be apprenticed to Joe, and until I -could assume that dignity I was not to be what Mrs. Joe called -"Pompeyed," or as I render it pampered. Therefore, I was not only -oddboy about the forge, but if any neighbour happened to want an -extra boy to frighten birds, or pick up stones, or do any such job, -I was favoured with the employment. In order, however, that our -superior position might not be compromised thereby, a moneybox was -kept on the kitchen mantelshelf, in to which it was publicly made -known that all my earnings were dropped. I have an impression that -they were to be contributed eventually towards the liquidation of -the National Debt, but I know I had no hope of any personal -participation in the treasure. -Mr. Wopsle's greataunt kept an evening school in the village that -is to say, she was a ridiculous old woman of limited means and -unlimited infirmity, who used to go to sleep from six to seven -every evening, in the society of youth who paid twopence per week -each, for the improving opportunity of seeing her do it. She rented -a small cottage, and Mr. Wopsle had the room upstairs, where we -students used to overhear him reading aloud in a most dignified and -terrific manner, and occasionally bumping on the ceiling. There was -a fiction that Mr. Wopsle "examined" the scholars, once a quarter. -What he did on those occasions was to turn up his cuffs, stick up -his hair, and give us Mark Antony's oration over the body of -Caesar. This was always followed by Collins's Ode on the Passions, -wherein I particularly venerated Mr. Wopsle as Revenge, throwing his -bloodstained sword in thunder down, and taking the Wardenouncing -trumpet with a withering look. It was not with me then, as it was -in later life, when I fell into the society of the Passions, and -compared them with Collins and Wopsle, rather to the disadvantage -of both gentlemen. -Mr. Wopsle's greataunt, besides keeping this Educational -Institution, kept in the same room a little general shop. She -had no idea what stock she had, or what the price of anything in it -was but there was a little greasy memorandumbook kept in a -drawer, which served as a Catalogue of Prices, and by this oracle -Biddy arranged all the shop transaction. Biddy was Mr. Wopsle's -greataunt's granddaughter I confess myself quiet unequal to the -working out of the problem, what relation she was to Mr. Wopsle. She -was an orphan like myself like me, too, had been brought up by -hand. She was most noticeable, I thought, in respect of her -extremities for, her hair always wanted brushing, her hands always -wanted washing, and her shoes always wanted mending and pulling up -at heel. This description must be received with a weekday -limitation. On Sundays, she went to church elaborated. -Much of my unassisted self, and more by the help of Biddy than of -Mr. Wopsle's greataunt, I struggled through the alphabet as if it -had been a bramblebush getting considerably worried and scratched -by every letter. After that, I fell among those thieves, the nine -figures, who seemed every evening to do something new to disguise -themselves and baffle recognition. But, at last I began, in a -purblind groping way, to read, write, and cipher, on the very -smallest scale. -One night, I was sitting in the chimneycorner with my slate, -expending great efforts on the production of a letter to Joe. I -think it must have been a fully year after our hunt upon the -marshes, for it was a long time after, and it was winter and a hard -frost. With an alphabet on the hearth at my feet for reference, I -contrived in an hour or two to print and smear this epistle -"MI DEER JO i OPE U R KR WITE WELL i OPE i SHAL SON B HABELL -TEEDGE U JO AN THEN WE SHORL B SO GLODD AN WEN i M PRENGTD U JO -WOT LARX AN BLEVE ME INF XN PIP." -There was no indispensable necessity for my communicating with Joe -by letter, inasmuch as he sat beside me and we were alone. But, I -delivered this written communication slate and all with my own -hand, and Joe received it as a miracle of erudition. -"I say, Pip, old chap" cried Joe, opening his blue eyes wide, -"what a scholar you are An't you?" -"I should like to be," said I, glancing at the slate as he held it -with a misgiving that the writing was rather hilly. -"Why, here's a J," said Joe, "and a O equal to anythink Here's a J -and a O, Pip, and a JO, Joe." -I had never heard Joe read aloud to any greater extent than this -monosyllable, and I had observed at church last Sunday when I -accidentally held our PrayerBook upside down, that it seemed to -suit his convenience quite as well as if it had been all right. -Wishing to embrace the present occasion of finding out whether in -teaching Joe, I should have to begin quite at the beginning, I -said, "Ah But read the rest, Jo." -"The rest, eh, Pip?" said Joe, looking at it with a slowly -searching eye, "One, two, three. Why, here's three Js, and three -Os, and three JO, Joes in it, Pip" -I leaned over Joe, and, with the aid of my forefinger, read him the -whole letter. -"Astonishing" said Joe, when I had finished. "You ARE a scholar." -"How do you spell Gargery, Joe?" I asked him, with a modest -patronage. -"I don't spell it at all," said Joe. -"But supposing you did?" -"It can't be supposed," said Joe. "Tho' I'm oncommon fond of -reading, too." -"Are you, Joe?" -"Oncommon. Give me," said Joe, "a good book, or a good newspaper, -and sit me down afore a good fire, and I ask no better. Lord" he -continued, after rubbing his knees a little, "when you do come to a -J and a O, and says you, "Here, at last, is a JO, Joe," how -interesting reading is" -I derived from this last, that Joe's education, like Steam, was yet -in its infancy, Pursuing the subject, I inquired -"Didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as me?" -"No, Pip." -"Why didn't you ever go to school, Joe, when you were as little as -me?" -"Well, Pip," said Joe, taking up the poker, and settling himself to -his usual occupation when he was thoughtful, of slowly raking the -fire between the lower bars "I'll tell you. My father, Pip, he -were given to drink, and when he were overtook with drink, he -hammered away at my mother, most onmerciful. It were a'most the -only hammering he did, indeed, 'xcepting at myself. And he hammered -at me with a wigour only to be equalled by the wigour with which he -didn't hammer at his anwil. You're alistening and understanding, -Pip?" -"Yes, Joe." -"'Consequence, my mother and me we ran away from my father, -several times and then my mother she'd go out to work, and she'd -say, "Joe," she'd say, "now, please God, you shall have some -schooling, child," and she'd put me to school. But my father were -that good in his hart that he couldn't abear to be without us. So, -he'd come with a most tremenjous crowd and make such a row at the -doors of the houses where we was, that they used to be obligated to -have no more to do with us and to give us up to him. And then he -took us home and hammered us. Which, you see, Pip," said Joe, -pausing in his meditative raking of the fire, and looking at me, -"were a drawback on my learning." -"Certainly, poor Joe" -"Though mind you, Pip," said Joe, with a judicial touch or two of -the poker on the top bar, "rendering unto all their doo, and -maintaining equal justice betwixt man and man, my father were that -good in his hart, don't you see?" -I didn't see but I didn't say so. -"Well" Joe pursued, "somebody must keep the pot a biling, Pip, or -the pot won't bile, don't you know?" -I saw that, and said so. -"'Consequence, my father didn't make objections to my going to -work so I went to work to work at my present calling, which were -his too, if he would have followed it, and I worked tolerable hard, -I assure you, Pip. In time I were able to keep him, and I kept him -till he went off in a purple leptic fit. And it were my intentions -to have had put upon his tombstone that Whatsume'er the failings on -his part, Remember reader he were that good in his hart." -Joe recited this couplet with such manifest pride and careful -perspicuity, that I asked him if he had made it himself. -"I made it," said Joe, "my own self. I made it in a moment. It was -like striking out a horseshoe complete, in a single blow. I never -was so much surprised in all my life couldn't credit my own ed -to tell you the truth, hardly believed it were my own ed. As I was -saying, Pip, it were my intentions to have had it cut over him but -poetry costs money, cut it how you will, small or large, and it -were not done. Not to mention bearers, all the money that could be -spared were wanted for my mother. She were in poor elth, and quite -broke. She weren't long of following, poor soul, and her share of -peace come round at last." -Joe's blue eyes turned a little watery he rubbed, first one of -them, and then the other, in a most uncongenial and uncomfortable -manner, with the round knob on the top of the poker. -"It were but lonesome then," said Joe, "living here alone, and I -got acquainted with your sister. Now, Pip" Joe looked firmly at -me, as if he knew I was not going to agree with him "your sister -is a fine figure of a woman." -I could not help looking at the fire, in an obvious state of doubt. -"Whatever family opinions, or whatever the world's opinions, on -that subject may be, Pip, your sister is," Joe tapped the top bar -with the poker after every word following, "a fine figure of -a woman" -I could think of nothing better to say than "I am glad you think -so, Joe." -"So am I," returned Joe, catching me up. "I am glad I think so, -Pip. A little redness or a little matter of Bone, here or there, -what does it signify to Me?" -I sagaciously observed, if it didn't signify to him, to whom did it -signify? -"Certainly" assented Joe. "That's it. You're right, old chap When -I got acquainted with your sister, it were the talk how she was -bringing you up by hand. Very kind of her too, all the folks said, -and I said, along with all the folks. As to you," Joe pursued with -a countenance expressive of seeing something very nasty indeed "if -you could have been aware how small and flabby and mean you was, -dear me, you'd have formed the most contemptible opinion of -yourself" -Not exactly relishing this, I said, "Never mind me, Joe." -"But I did mind you, Pip," he returned with tender simplicity. -"When I offered to your sister to keep company, and to be asked in -church at such times as she was willing and ready to come to the -forge, I said to her, 'And bring the poor little child. God bless -the poor little child,' I said to your sister, 'there's room for -him at the forge'" -I broke out crying and begging pardon, and hugged Joe round the -neck who dropped the poker to hug me, and to say, "Ever the best -of friends an't us, Pip? Don't cry, old chap" -When this little interruption was over, Joe resumed -"Well, you see, Pip, and here we are That's about where it lights -here we are Now, when you take me in hand in my learning, Pip and -I tell you beforehand I am awful dull, most awful dull, Mrs. Joe -mustn't see too much of what we're up to. It must be done, as I may -say, on the sly. And why on the sly? I'll tell you why, Pip." -He had taken up the poker again without which, I doubt if he could -have proceeded in his demonstration. -"Your sister is given to government." -"Given to government, Joe?" I was startled, for I had some shadowy -idea and I am afraid I must add, hope that Joe had divorced her -in a favour of the Lords of the Admiralty, or Treasury. -"Given to government," said Joe. "Which I meantersay the government -of you and myself." -"Oh" -"And she an't over partial to having scholars on the premises," Joe -continued, "and in partickler would not be over partial to my being -a scholar, for fear as I might rise. Like a sort or rebel, don't -you see?" -I was going to retort with an inquiry, and had got as far as -"Why" when Joe stopped me. -"Stay a bit. I know what you're agoing to say, Pip stay a bit I -don't deny that your sister comes the Mogul over us, now and -again. I don't deny that she do throw us backfalls, and that she -do drop down upon us heavy. At such times as when your sister is on -the Rampage, Pip," Joe sank his voice to a whisper and glanced at -the door, "candour compels fur to admit that she is a Buster." -Joe pronounced this word, as if it began with at least twelve -capital Bs. -"Why don't I rise? That were your observation when I broke it off, -Pip?" -"Yes, Joe." -"Well," said Joe, passing the poker into his left hand, that he -might feel his whisker and I had no hope of him whenever he took -to that placid occupation "your sister's a mastermind. A -mastermind." -"What's that?" I asked, in some hope of bringing him to a stand. -But, Joe was readier with his definition than I had expected, and -completely stopped me by arguing circularly, and answering with a -fixed look, "Her." -"And I an't a mastermind," Joe resumed, when he had unfixed his -look, and got back to his whisker. "And last of all, Pip and this -I want to say very serious to you, old chap I see so much in my -poor mother, of a woman drudging and slaving and breaking her -honest hart and never getting no peace in her mortal days, that I'm -dead afeerd of going wrong in the way of not doing what's right by -a woman, and I'd fur rather of the two go wrong the t'other way, -and be a little illconwenienced myself. I wish it was only me that -got put out, Pip I wish there warn't no Tickler for you, old chap -I wish I could take it all on myself but this is the -upanddownandstraight on it, Pip, and I hope you'll overlook -shortcomings." -Young as I was, I believe that I dated a new admiration of Joe from -that night. We were equals afterwards, as we had been before but, -afterwards at quiet times when I sat looking at Joe and thinking -about him, I had a new sensation of feeling conscious that I was -looking up to Joe in my heart. -"However," said Joe, rising to replenish the fire "here's the -Dutchclock a working himself up to being equal to strike Eight of -'em, and she's not come home yet I hope Uncle Pumblechook's mare -mayn't have set a forefoot on a piece o' ice, and gone down." -Mrs. Joe made occasional trips with Uncle Pumblechook on -marketdays, to assist him in buying such household stuffs and -goods as required a woman's judgment Uncle Pumblechook being a -bachelor and reposing no confidences in his domestic servant. This -was marketday, and Mrs. Joe was out on one of these expeditions. -Joe made the fire and swept the hearth, and then we went to the -door to listen for the chaisecart. It was a dry cold night, and -the wind blew keenly, and the frost was white and hard. A man would -die tonight of lying out on the marshes, I thought. And then I -looked at the stars, and considered how awful if would be for a man -to turn his face up to them as he froze to death, and see no help -or pity in all the glittering multitude. -"Here comes the mare," said Joe, "ringing like a peal of bells" -The sound of her iron shoes upon the hard road was quite musical, -as she came along at a much brisker trot than usual. We got a chair -out, ready for Mrs. Joe's alighting, and stirred up the fire that -they might see a bright window, and took a final survey of the -kitchen that nothing might be out of its place. When we had -completed these preparations, they drove up, wrapped to the eyes. -Mrs. Joe was soon landed, and Uncle Pumblechook was soon down too, -covering the mare with a cloth, and we were soon all in the -kitchen, carrying so much cold air in with us that it seemed to -drive all the heat out of the fire. -"Now," said Mrs. Joe, unwrapping herself with haste and excitement, -and throwing her bonnet back on her shoulders where it hung by the -strings "if this boy an't grateful this night, he never will be" -I looked as grateful as any boy possibly could, who was wholly -uninformed why he ought to assume that expression. -"It's only to be hoped," said my sister, "that he won't be -Pompeyed. But I have my fears." -"She an't in that line, Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook. "She knows -better." -She? I looked at Joe, making the motion with my lips and eyebrows, -"She?" Joe looked at me, making the motion with his lips and -eyebrows, "She?" My sister catching him in the act, he drew the -back of his hand across his nose with his usual conciliatory air on -such occasions, and looked at her. -"Well?" said my sister, in her snappish way. "What are you staring -at? Is the house afire?" -" Which some individual," Joe politely hinted, "mentioned she." -"And she is a she, I suppose?" said my sister. "Unless you call -Miss Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that." -"Miss Havisham, up town?" said Joe. -"Is there any Miss Havisham down town?" returned my sister. -"She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. -And he had better play there," said my sister, shaking her head at -me as an encouragement to be extremely light and sportive, "or I'll -work him." -I had heard of Miss Havisham up town everybody for miles round, -had heard of Miss Havisham up town as an immensely rich and grim -lady who lived in a large and dismal house barricaded against -robbers, and who led a life of seclusion. -"Well to be sure" said Joe, astounded. "I wonder how she come to -know Pip" -"Noodle" cried my sister. "Who said she knew him?" -" Which some individual," Joe again politely hinted, "mentioned -that she wanted him to go and play there." -"And couldn't she ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go -and play there? Isn't it just barely possible that Uncle -Pumblechook may be a tenant of hers, and that he may sometimes we -won't say quarterly or halfyearly, for that would be requiring too -much of you but sometimes go there to pay his rent? And -couldn't she then ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go -and play there? And couldn't Uncle Pumblechook, being always -considerate and thoughtful for us though you may not think it, -Joseph," in a tone of the deepest reproach, as if he were the most -callous of nephews, "then mention this boy, standing Prancing here" -which I solemnly declare I was not doing "that I have for ever -been a willing slave to?" -"Good again" cried Uncle Pumblechook. "Well put Prettily pointed -Good indeed Now Joseph, you know the case." -"No, Joseph," said my sister, still in a reproachful manner, while -Joe apologetically drew the back of his hand across and across his -nose, "you do not yet though you may not think it know the -case. You may consider that you do, but you do not, Joseph. For you -do not know that Uncle Pumblechook, being sensible that for -anything we can tell, this boy's fortune may be made by his going -to Miss Havisham's, has offered to take him into town tonight in -his own chaisecart, and to keep him tonight, and to take him with -his own hands to Miss Havisham's tomorrow morning. And Loramussy -me" cried my sister, casting off her bonnet in sudden desperation, -"here I stand talking to mere Mooncalfs, with Uncle Pumblechook -waiting, and the mare catching cold at the door, and the boy grimed -with crock and dirt from the hair of his head to the sole of his -foot" -With that, she pounced upon me, like an eagle on a lamb, and my -face was squeezed into wooden bowls in sinks, and my head was put -under taps of waterbutts, and I was soaped, and kneaded, and -towelled, and thumped, and harrowed, and rasped, until I really was -quite beside myself. I may here remark that I suppose myself to be -better acquainted than any living authority, with the ridgy effect -of a weddingring, passing unsympathetically over the human -countenance. -When my ablutions were completed, I was put into clean linen of the -stiffest character, like a young penitent into sackcloth, and was -trussed up in my tightest and fearfullest suit. I was then -delivered over to Mr. Pumblechook, who formally received me as if he -were the Sheriff, and who let off upon me the speech that I knew he -had been dying to make all along "Boy, be for ever grateful to all -friends, but especially unto them which brought you up by hand" -"Goodbye, Joe" -"God bless you, Pip, old chap" -I had never parted from him before, and what with my feelings and -what with soapsuds, I could at first see no stars from the -chaisecart. But they twinkled out one by one, without throwing any -light on the questions why on earth I was going to play at Miss -Havisham's, and what on earth I was expected to play at. -Chapter -Mr. Pumblechook's premises in the Highstreet of the market town, -were of a peppercorny and farinaceous character, as the premises of -a cornchandler and seedsman should be. It appeared to me that he -must be a very happy man indeed, to have so many little drawers in -his shop and I wondered when I peeped into one or two on the lower -tiers, and saw the tiedup brown paper packets inside, whether the -flowerseeds and bulbs ever wanted of a fine day to break out of -those jails, and bloom. -It was in the early morning after my arrival that I entertained -this speculation. On the previous night, I had been sent straight -to bed in an attic with a sloping roof, which was so low in the -corner where the bedstead was, that I calculated the tiles as being -within a foot of my eyebrows. In the same early morning, I -discovered a singular affinity between seeds and corduroys. Mr. -Pumblechook wore corduroys, and so did his shopman and somehow, -there was a general air and flavour about the corduroys, so much in -the nature of seeds, and a general air and flavour about the seeds, -so much in the nature of corduroys, that I hardly knew which was -which. The same opportunity served me for noticing that Mr. -Pumblechook appeared to conduct his business by looking across the -street at the saddler, who appeared to transact his business by -keeping his eye on the coachmaker, who appeared to get on in life -by putting his hands in his pockets and contemplating the baker, -who in his turn folded his arms and stared at the grocer, who stood -at his door and yawned at the chemist. The watchmaker, always -poring over a little desk with a magnifying glass at his eye, and -always inspected by a group of smockfrocks poring over him through -the glass of his shopwindow, seemed to be about the only person in -the Highstreet whose trade engaged his attention. -Mr. Pumblechook and I breakfasted at eight o'clock in the parlour -behind the shop, while the shopman took his mug of tea and hunch of -breadandbutter on a sack of peas in the front premises. I -considered Mr. Pumblechook wretched company. Besides being possessed -by my sister's idea that a mortifying and penitential character -ought to be imparted to my diet besides giving me as much crumb -as possible in combination with as little butter, and putting such -a quantity of warm water into my milk that it would have been more -candid to have left the milk out altogether his conversation -consisted of nothing but arithmetic. On my politely bidding him -Good morning, he said, pompously, "Seven times nine, boy?" And how -should I be able to answer, dodged in that way, in a strange place, -on an empty stomach I was hungry, but before I had swallowed a -morsel, he began a running sum that lasted all through the -breakfast. "Seven?" "And four?" "And eight?" "And six?" "And two?" -"And ten?" And so on. And after each figure was disposed of, it was -as much as I could do to get a bite or a sup, before the next came -while he sat at his ease guessing nothing, and eating bacon and hot -roll, in if I may be allowed the expression a gorging and -gormandising manner. -For such reasons I was very glad when ten o'clock came and we -started for Miss Havisham's though I was not at all at my ease -regarding the manner in which I should acquit myself under that -lady's roof. Within a quarter of an hour we came to Miss Havisham's -house, which was of old brick, and dismal, and had a great many -iron bars to it. Some of the windows had been walled up of those -that remained, all the lower were rustily barred. There was a -courtyard in front, and that was barred so, we had to wait, after -ringing the bell, until some one should come to open it. While we -waited at the gate, I peeped in even then Mr. Pumblechook said, -"And fourteen?" but I pretended not to hear him, and saw that at -the side of the house there was a large brewery. No brewing was going -on in it, and none seemed to have gone on for a long long time. -A window was raised, and a clear voice demanded "What name?" To -which my conductor replied, "Pumblechook." The voice returned, -"Quite right," and the window was shut again, and a young lady came -across the courtyard, with keys in her hand. -"This," said Mr. Pumblechook, "is Pip." -"This is Pip, is it?" returned the young lady, who was very pretty -and seemed very proud "come in, Pip." -Mr. Pumblechook was coming in also, when she stopped him with the -gate. -"Oh" she said. "Did you wish to see Miss Havisham?" -"If Miss Havisham wished to see me," returned Mr. Pumblechook, -discomfited. -"Ah" said the girl "but you see she don't." -She said it so finally, and in such an undiscussible way, that Mr. -Pumblechook, though in a condition of ruffled dignity, could not -protest. But he eyed me severely as if I had done anything to -him and departed with the words reproachfully delivered "Boy -Let your behaviour here be a credit unto them which brought you up -by hand" I was not free from apprehension that he would come back -to propound through the gate, "And sixteen?" But he didn't. -My young conductress locked the gate, and we went across the -courtyard. It was paved and clean, but grass was growing in every -crevice. The brewery buildings had a little lane of communication -with it, and the wooden gates of that lane stood open, and all the -brewery beyond, stood open, away to the high enclosing wall and -all was empty and disused. The cold wind seemed to blow colder -there, than outside the gate and it made a shrill noise in howling -in and out at the open sides of the brewery, like the noise of wind -in the rigging of a ship at sea. -She saw me looking at it, and she said, "You could drink without -hurt all the strong beer that's brewed there now, boy." -"I should think I could, miss," said I, in a shy way. -"Better not try to brew beer there now, or it would turn out sour, -boy don't you think so?" -"It looks like it, miss." -"Not that anybody means to try," she added, "for that's all done -with, and the place will stand as idle as it is, till it falls. As -to strong beer, there's enough of it in the cellars already, to -drown the Manor House." -"Is that the name of this house, miss?" -"One of its names, boy." -"It has more than one, then, miss?" -"One more. Its other name was Satis which is Greek, or Latin, or -Hebrew, or all three or all one to me for enough." -"Enough House," said I "that's a curious name, miss." -"Yes," she replied "but it meant more than it said. It meant, when -it was given, that whoever had this house, could want nothing else. -They must have been easily satisfied in those days, I should think. -But don't loiter, boy." -Though she called me "boy" so often, and with a carelessness that -was far from complimentary, she was of about my own age. She seemed -much older than I, of course, being a girl, and beautiful and -selfpossessed and she was as scornful of me as if she had been -oneandtwenty, and a queen. -We went into the house by a side door the great front entrance -had two chains across it outside and the first thing I noticed -was, that the passages were all dark, and that she had left a -candle burning there. She took it up, and we went through more -passages and up a staircase, and still it was all dark, and only -the candle lighted us. -At last we came to the door of a room, and she said, "Go in." -I answered, more in shyness than politeness, "After you, miss." -To this, she returned "Don't be ridiculous, boy I am not going -in." And scornfully walked away, and what was worse took the -candle with her. -This was very uncomfortable, and I was half afraid. However, the -only thing to be done being to knock at the door, I knocked, and -was told from within to enter. I entered, therefore, and found -myself in a pretty large room, well lighted with wax candles. No -glimpse of daylight was to be seen in it. It was a dressingroom, -as I supposed from the furniture, though much of it was of forms -and uses then quite unknown to me. But prominent in it was a draped -table with a gilded lookingglass, and that I made out at first -sight to be a fine lady's dressingtable. -Whether I should have made out this object so soon, if there had -been no fine lady sitting at it, I cannot say. In an armchair, -with an elbow resting on the table and her head leaning on that -hand, sat the strangest lady I have ever seen, or shall ever see. -She was dressed in rich materials satins, and lace, and silks -all of white. Her shoes were white. And she had a long white veil -dependent from her hair, and she had bridal flowers in her hair, -but her hair was white. Some bright jewels sparkled on her neck and -on her hands, and some other jewels lay sparkling on the table. -Dresses, less splendid than the dress she wore, and halfpacked -trunks, were scattered about. She had not quite finished dressing, -for she had but one shoe on the other was on the table near her -hand her veil was but half arranged, her watch and chain were not -put on, and some lace for her bosom lay with those trinkets, and -with her handkerchief, and gloves, and some flowers, and a -prayerbook, all confusedly heaped about the lookingglass. -It was not in the first few moments that I saw all these things, -though I saw more of them in the first moments than might be -supposed. But, I saw that everything within my view which ought to -be white, had been white long ago, and had lost its lustre, and was -faded and yellow. I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had -withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no -brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that -the dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, -and that the figure upon which it now hung loose, had shrunk to -skin and bone. Once, I had been taken to see some ghastly waxwork -at the Fair, representing I know not what impossible personage -lying in state. Once, I had been taken to one of our old marsh -churches to see a skeleton in the ashes of a rich dress, that had -been dug out of a vault under the church pavement. Now, waxwork and -skeleton seemed to have dark eyes that moved and looked at me. I -should have cried out, if I could. -"Who is it?" said the lady at the table. -"Pip, ma'am." -"Pip?" -"Mr. Pumblechook's boy, ma'am. Come to play." -"Come nearer let me look at you. Come close." -It was when I stood before her, avoiding her eyes, that I took note -of the surrounding objects in detail, and saw that her watch had -stopped at twenty minutes to nine, and that a clock in the room had -stopped at twenty minutes to nine. -"Look at me," said Miss Havisham. "You are not afraid of a woman -who has never seen the sun since you were born?" -I regret to state that I was not afraid of telling the enormous lie -comprehended in the answer "No." -"Do you know what I touch here?" she said, laying her hands, one -upon the other, on her left side. -"Yes, ma'am." It made me think of the young man. -"What do I touch?" -"Your heart." -"Broken" -She uttered the word with an eager look, and with strong emphasis, -and with a weird smile that had a kind of boast in it. Afterwards, -she kept her hands there for a little while, and slowly took them -away as if they were heavy. -"I am tired," said Miss Havisham. "I want diversion, and I have -done with men and women. Play." -I think it will be conceded by my most disputatious reader, that -she could hardly have directed an unfortunate boy to do anything in -the wide world more difficult to be done under the circumstances. -"I sometimes have sick fancies," she went on, "and I have a sick -fancy that I want to see some play. There there" with an impatient -movement of the fingers of her right hand "play, play, play" -For a moment, with the fear of my sister's working me before my -eyes, I had a desperate idea of starting round the room in the -assumed character of Mr. Pumblechook's chaisecart. But, I felt -myself so unequal to the performance that I gave it up, and stood -looking at Miss Havisham in what I suppose she took for a dogged -manner, inasmuch as she said, when we had taken a good look at each -other -"Are you sullen and obstinate?" -"No, ma'am, I am very sorry for you, and very sorry I can't play -just now. If you complain of me I shall get into trouble with my -sister, so I would do it if I could but it's so new here, and so -strange, and so fine and melancholy." I stopped, fearing I might -say too much, or had already said it, and we took another look at -each other. -Before she spoke again, she turned her eyes from me, and looked at -the dress she wore, and at the dressingtable, and finally at -herself in the lookingglass. -"So new to him," she muttered, "so old to me so strange to him, so -familiar to me so melancholy to both of us Call Estella." -As she was still looking at the reflection of herself, I thought -she was still talking to herself, and kept quiet. -"Call Estella," she repeated, flashing a look at me. "You can do -that. Call Estella. At the door." -To stand in the dark in a mysterious passage of an unknown house, -bawling Estella to a scornful young lady neither visible nor -responsive, and feeling it a dreadful liberty so to roar out her -name, was almost as bad as playing to order. But, she answered at -last, and her light came along the dark passage like a star. -Miss Havisham beckoned her to come close, and took up a jewel from -the table, and tried its effect upon her fair young bosom and -against her pretty brown hair. "Your own, one day, my dear, and you -will use it well. Let me see you play cards with this boy." -"With this boy? Why, he is a common labouringboy" -I thought I overheard Miss Havisham answer only it seemed so -unlikely "Well? You can break his heart." -"What do you play, boy?" asked Estella of myself, with the greatest -disdain. -"Nothing but beggar my neighbour, miss." -"Beggar him," said Miss Havisham to Estella. So we sat down to -cards. -It was then I began to understand that everything in the room had -stopped, like the watch and the clock, a long time ago. I noticed -that Miss Havisham put down the jewel exactly on the spot from -which she had taken it up. As Estella dealt the cards, I glanced at -the dressingtable again, and saw that the shoe upon it, once -white, now yellow, had never been worn. I glanced down at the foot -from which the shoe was absent, and saw that the silk stocking on -it, once white, now yellow, had been trodden ragged. Without this -arrest of everything, this standing still of all the pale decayed -objects, not even the withered bridal dress on the collapsed from -could have looked so like graveclothes, or the long veil so like a -shroud. -So she sat, corpselike, as we played at cards the frillings and -trimmings on her bridal dress, looking like earthy paper. I knew -nothing then, of the discoveries that are occasionally made of -bodies buried in ancient times, which fall to powder in the moment -of being distinctly seen but, I have often thought since, that she -must have looked as if the admission of the natural light of day -would have struck her to dust. -"He calls the knaves, Jacks, this boy" said Estella with disdain, -before our first game was out. "And what coarse hands he has And -what thick boots" -I had never thought of being ashamed of my hands before but I -began to consider them a very indifferent pair. Her contempt for me -was so strong, that it became infectious, and I caught it. -She won the game, and I dealt. I misdealt, as was only natural, -when I knew she was lying in wait for me to do wrong and she -denounced me for a stupid, clumsy labouringboy. -"You say nothing of her," remarked Miss Havisham to me, as she -looked on. "She says many hard things of you, but you say nothing -of her. What do you think of her?" -"I don't like to say," I stammered. -"Tell me in my ear," said Miss Havisham, bending down. -"I think she is very proud," I replied, in a whisper. -"Anything else?" -"I think she is very pretty." -"Anything else?" -"I think she is very insulting." She was looking at me then with a -look of supreme aversion. -"Anything else?" -"I think I should like to go home." -"And never see her again, though she is so pretty?" -"I am not sure that I shouldn't like to see her again, but I should -like to go home now." -"You shall go soon," said Miss Havisham, aloud. "Play the game -out." -Saving for the one weird smile at first, I should have felt almost -sure that Miss Havisham's face could not smile. It had dropped into -a watchful and brooding expression most likely when all the -things about her had become transfixed and it looked as if -nothing could ever lift it up again. Her chest had dropped, so that -she stooped and her voice had dropped, so that she spoke low, and -with a dead lull upon her altogether, she had the appearance of -having dropped, body and soul, within and without, under the weight -of a crushing blow. -I played the game to an end with Estella, and she beggared me. She -threw the cards down on the table when she had won them all, as if -she despised them for having been won of me. -"When shall I have you here again?" said miss Havisham. "Let me -think." -I was beginning to remind her that today was Wednesday, when she -checked me with her former impatient movement of the fingers of her -right hand. -"There, there I know nothing of days of the week I know nothing -of weeks of the year. Come again after six days. You hear?" -"Yes, ma'am." -"Estella, take him down. Let him have something to eat, and let him -roam and look about him while he eats. Go, Pip." -I followed the candle down, as I had followed the candle up, and -she stood it in the place where we had found it. Until she opened -the side entrance, I had fancied, without thinking about it, that -it must necessarily be nighttime. The rush of the daylight quite -confounded me, and made me feel as if I had been in the candlelight -of the strange room many hours. -"You are to wait here, you boy," said Estella and disappeared and -closed the door. -I took the opportunity of being alone in the courtyard, to look at -my coarse hands and my common boots. My opinion of those -accessories was not favourable. They had never troubled me before, -but they troubled me now, as vulgar appendages. I determined to ask -Joe why he had ever taught me to call those picturecards, Jacks, -which ought to be called knaves. I wished Joe had been rather more -genteelly brought up, and then I should have been so too. -She came back, with some bread and meat and a little mug of beer. -She put the mug down on the stones of the yard, and gave me the -bread and meat without looking at me, as insolently as if I were a -dog in disgrace. I was so humiliated, hurt, spurned, offended, -angry, sorry I cannot hit upon the right name for the smart God -knows what its name was that tears started to my eyes. The moment -they sprang there, the girl looked at me with a quick delight in -having been the cause of them. This gave me power to keep them back -and to look at her so, she gave a contemptuous toss but with a -sense, I thought, of having made too sure that I was so wounded -and left me. -But, when she was gone, I looked about me for a place to hide my -face in, and got behind one of the gates in the brewerylane, and -leaned my sleeve against the wall there, and leaned my forehead on -it and cried. As I cried, I kicked the wall, and took a hard twist -at my hair so bitter were my feelings, and so sharp was the smart -without a name, that needed counteraction. -My sister's bringing up had made me sensitive. In the little world -in which children have their existence whosoever brings them up, -there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as -injustice. It may be only small injustice that the child can be -exposed to but the child is small, and its world is small, and its -rockinghorse stands as many hands high, according to scale, as a -bigboned Irish hunter. Within myself, I had sustained, from my -babyhood, a perpetual conflict with injustice. I had known, from -the time when I could speak, that my sister, in her capricious and -violent coercion, was unjust to me. I had cherished a profound -conviction that her bringing me up by hand, gave her no right to -bring me up by jerks. Through all my punishments, disgraces, fasts -and vigils, and other penitential performances, I had nursed this -assurance and to my communing so much with it, in a solitary and -unprotected way, I in great part refer the fact that I was morally -timid and very sensitive. -I got rid of my injured feelings for the time, by kicking them into -the brewery wall, and twisting them out of my hair, and then I -smoothed my face with my sleeve, and came from behind the gate. The -bread and meat were acceptable, and the beer was warming and -tingling, and I was soon in spirits to look about me. -To be sure, it was a deserted place, down to the pigeonhouse in -the breweryyard, which had been blown crooked on its pole by some -high wind, and would have made the pigeons think themselves at sea, -if there had been any pigeons there to be rocked by it. But, there -were no pigeons in the dovecot, no horses in the stable, no pigs -in the sty, no malt in the storehouse, no smells of grains and -beer in the copper or the vat. All the uses and scents of the -brewery might have evaporated with its last reek of smoke. In a -byyard, there was a wilderness of empty casks, which had a certain -sour remembrance of better days lingering about them but it was -too sour to be accepted as a sample of the beer that was gone and -in this respect I remember those recluses as being like most -others. -Behind the furthest end of the brewery, was a rank garden with an -old wall not so high but that I could struggle up and hold on long -enough to look over it, and see that the rank garden was the garden -of the house, and that it was overgrown with tangled weeds, but -that there was a track upon the green and yellow paths, as if some -one sometimes walked there, and that Estella was walking away from -me even then. But she seemed to be everywhere. For, when I yielded -to the temptation presented by the casks, and began to walk on -them. I saw her walking on them at the end of the yard of casks. -She had her back towards me, and held her pretty brown hair spread -out in her two hands, and never looked round, and passed out of my -view directly. So, in the brewery itself by which I mean the -large paved lofty place in which they used to make the beer, and -where the brewing utensils still were. When I first went into it, -and, rather oppressed by its gloom, stood near the door looking -about me, I saw her pass among the extinguished fires, and ascend -some light iron stairs, and go out by a gallery high overhead, as -if she were going out into the sky. -It was in this place, and at this moment, that a strange thing -happened to my fancy. I thought it a strange thing then, and I -thought it a stranger thing long afterwards. I turned my eyes a -little dimmed by looking up at the frosty light towards a great -wooden beam in a low nook of the building near me on my right hand, -and I saw a figure hanging there by the neck. A figure all in -yellow white, with but one shoe to the feet and it hung so, that I -could see that the faded trimmings of the dress were like earthy -paper, and that the face was Miss Havisham's, with a movement going -over the whole countenance as if she were trying to call to me. In -the terror of seeing the figure, and in the terror of being certain -that it had not been there a moment before, I at first ran from it, -and then ran towards it. And my terror was greatest of all, when I -found no figure there. -Nothing less than the frosty light of the cheerful sky, the sight -of people passing beyond the bars of the courtyard gate, and the -reviving influence of the rest of the bread and meat and beer, -would have brought me round. Even with those aids, I might not have -come to myself as soon as I did, but that I saw Estella approaching -with the keys, to let me out. She would have some fair reason for -looking down upon me, I thought, if she saw me frightened and she -would have no fair reason. -She gave me a triumphant glance in passing me, as if she rejoiced -that my hands were so coarse and my boots were so thick, and she -opened the gate, and stood holding it. I was passing out without -looking at her, when she touched me with a taunting hand. -"Why don't you cry?" -"Because I don't want to." -"You do," said she. "You have been crying till you are half blind, -and you are near crying again now." -She laughed contemptuously, pushed me out, and locked the gate upon -me. I went straight to Mr. Pumblechook's, and was immensely relieved -to find him not at home. So, leaving word with the shopman on what -day I was wanted at Miss Havisham's again, I set off on the -fourmile walk to our forge pondering, as I went along, on all I -had seen, and deeply revolving that I was a common labouringboy -that my hands were coarse that my boots were thick that I had -fallen into a despicable habit of calling knaves Jacks that I was -much more ignorant than I had considered myself last night, and -generally that I was in a lowlived bad way. -Chapter -When I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about -Miss Havisham's, and asked a number of questions. And I soon found -myself getting heavily bumped from behind in the nape of the neck -and the small of the back, and having my face ignominiously shoved -against the kitchen wall, because I did not answer those questions -at sufficient length. -If a dread of not being understood be hidden in the breasts of -other young people to anything like the extent to which it used to -be hidden in mine which I consider probable, as I have no -particular reason to suspect myself of having been a monstrosity -it is the key to many reservations. I felt convinced that if I -described Miss Havisham's as my eyes had seen it, I should not be -understood. Not only that, but I felt convinced that Miss Havisham -too would not be understood and although she was perfectly -incomprehensible to me, I entertained an impression that there -would be something coarse and treacherous in my dragging her as she -really was to say nothing of Miss Estella before the -contemplation of Mrs. Joe. Consequently, I said as little as I -could, and had my face shoved against the kitchen wall. -The worst of it was that that bullying old Pumblechook, preyed upon -by a devouring curiosity to be informed of all I had seen and -heard, came gaping over in his chaisecart at teatime, to have the -details divulged to him. And the mere sight of the torment, with -his fishy eyes and mouth open, his sandy hair inquisitively on end, -and his waistcoat heaving with windy arithmetic, made me vicious in -my reticence. -"Well, boy," Uncle Pumblechook began, as soon as he was seated in -the chair of honour by the fire. "How did you get on up town?" -I answered, "Pretty well, sir," and my sister shook her fist at me. -"Pretty well?" Mr. Pumblechook repeated. "Pretty well is no answer. -Tell us what you mean by pretty well, boy?" -Whitewash on the forehead hardens the brain into a state of -obstinacy perhaps. Anyhow, with whitewash from the wall on my -forehead, my obstinacy was adamantine. I reflected for some time, -and then answered as if I had discovered a new idea, "I mean pretty -well." -My sister with an exclamation of impatience was going to fly at me -I had no shadow of defence, for Joe was busy in the forge when Mr. -Pumblechook interposed with "No Don't lose your temper. Leave this -lad to me, ma'am leave this lad to me." Mr. Pumblechook then turned -me towards him, as if he were going to cut my hair, and said -"First to get our thoughts in order Fortythree pence?" -I calculated the consequences of replying "Four Hundred Pound," and -finding them against me, went as near the answer as I could which -was somewhere about eightpence off. Mr. Pumblechook then put me -through my pencetable from "twelve pence make one shilling," up to -"forty pence make three and fourpence," and then triumphantly -demanded, as if he had done for me, "Now How much is fortythree -pence?" To which I replied, after a long interval of reflection, "I -don't know." And I was so aggravated that I almost doubt if I did -know. -Mr. Pumblechook worked his head like a screw to screw it out of me, -and said, "Is fortythree pence seven and sixpence three fardens, -for instance?" -"Yes" said I. And although my sister instantly boxed my ears, it -was highly gratifying to me to see that the answer spoilt his joke, -and brought him to a dead stop. -"Boy What like is Miss Havisham?" Mr. Pumblechook began again when -he had recovered folding his arms tight on his chest and applying -the screw. -"Very tall and dark," I told him. -"Is she, uncle?" asked my sister. -Mr. Pumblechook winked assent from which I at once inferred that he -had never seen Miss Havisham, for she was nothing of the kind. -"Good" said Mr. Pumblechook conceitedly. "This is the way to have -him We are beginning to hold our own, I think, Mum?" -"I am sure, uncle," returned Mrs. Joe, "I wish you had him always -you know so well how to deal with him." -"Now, boy What was she adoing of, when you went in today?" asked -Mr. Pumblechook. -"She was sitting," I answered, "in a black velvet coach." -Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another as they well -might and both repeated, "In a black velvet coach?" -"Yes," said I. "And Miss Estella that's her niece, I think -handed her in cake and wine at the coachwindow, on a gold plate. -And we all had cake and wine on gold plates. And I got up behind -the coach to eat mine, because she told me to." -"Was anybody else there?" asked Mr. Pumblechook. -"Four dogs," said I. -"Large or small?" -"Immense," said I. "And they fought for veal cutlets out of a -silver basket." -Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another again, in utter -amazement. I was perfectly frantic a reckless witness under the -torture and would have told them anything. -"Where was this coach, in the name of gracious?" asked my sister. -"In Miss Havisham's room." They stared again. "But there weren't -any horses to it." I added this saving clause, in the moment of -rejecting four richly caparisoned coursers which I had had wild -thoughts of harnessing. -"Can this be possible, uncle?" asked Mrs. Joe. "What can the boy -mean?" -"I'll tell you, Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook. "My opinion is, it's a -sedanchair. She's flighty, you know very flighty quite flighty -enough to pass her days in a sedanchair." -"Did you ever see her in it, uncle?" asked Mrs. Joe. -"How could I," he returned, forced to the admission, "when I never -see her in my life? Never clapped eyes upon her" -"Goodness, uncle And yet you have spoken to her?" -"Why, don't you know," said Mr. Pumblechook, testily, "that when I -have been there, I have been took up to the outside of her door, -and the door has stood ajar, and she has spoke to me that way. -Don't say you don't know that, Mum. Howsever, the boy went there to -play. What did you play at, boy?" -"We played with flags," I said. I beg to observe that I think of -myself with amazement, when I recall the lies I told on this -occasion. -"Flags" echoed my sister. -"Yes," said I. "Estella waved a blue flag, and I waved a red one, -and Miss Havisham waved one sprinkled all over with little gold -stars, out at the coachwindow. And then we all waved our swords -and hurrahed." -"Swords" repeated my sister. "Where did you get swords from?" -"Out of a cupboard," said I. "And I saw pistols in it and jam -and pills. And there was no daylight in the room, but it was all -lighted up with candles." -"That's true, Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook, with a grave nod. "That's -the state of the case, for that much I've seen myself." And then -they both stared at me, and I, with an obtrusive show of -artlessness on my countenance, stared at them, and plaited the -right leg of my trousers with my right hand. -If they had asked me any more questions I should undoubtedly have -betrayed myself, for I was even then on the point of mentioning -that there was a balloon in the yard, and should have hazarded the -statement but for my invention being divided between that -phenomenon and a bear in the brewery. They were so much occupied, -however, in discussing the marvels I had already presented for -their consideration, that I escaped. The subject still held them -when Joe came in from his work to have a cup of tea. To whom my -sister, more for the relief of her own mind than for the -gratification of his, related my pretended experiences. -Now, when I saw Joe open his blue eyes and roll them all round the -kitchen in helpless amazement, I was overtaken by penitence but -only as regarded him not in the least as regarded the other two. -Towards Joe, and Joe only, I considered myself a young monster, -while they sat debating what results would come to me from Miss -Havisham's acquaintance and favour. They had no doubt that Miss -Havisham would "do something" for me their doubts related to the -form that something would take. My sister stood out for "property." -Mr. Pumblechook was in favour of a handsome premium for binding me -apprentice to some genteel trade say, the corn and seed trade, -for instance. Joe fell into the deepest disgrace with both, for -offering the bright suggestion that I might only be presented with -one of the dogs who had fought for the vealcutlets. "If a fool's -head can't express better opinions than that," said my sister, "and -you have got any work to do, you had better go and do it." So he -went. -After Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing -up, I stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had -done for the night. Then I said, "Before the fire goes out, Joe, I -should like to tell you something." -"Should you, Pip?" said Joe, drawing his shoeingstool near the -forge. "Then tell us. What is it, Pip?" -"Joe," said I, taking hold of his rolledup shirt sleeve, and -twisting it between my finger and thumb, "you remember all that -about Miss Havisham's?" -"Remember?" said Joe. "I believe you Wonderful" -"It's a terrible thing, Joe it ain't true." -"What are you telling of, Pip?" cried Joe, falling back in the -greatest amazement. "You don't mean to say it's" -"Yes I do it's lies, Joe." -"But not all of it? Why sure you don't mean to say, Pip, that there -was no black welwet coach?" For, I stood shaking my head. "But at -least there was dogs, Pip? Come, Pip," said Joe, persuasively, "if -there warn't no wealcutlets, at least there was dogs?" -"No, Joe." -"A dog?" said Joe. "A puppy? Come?" -"No, Joe, there was nothing at all of the kind." -As I fixed my eyes hopelessly on Joe, Joe contemplated me in -dismay. "Pip, old chap This won't do, old fellow I say Where do -you expect to go to?" -"It's terrible, Joe an't it?" -"Terrible?" cried Joe. "Awful What possessed you?" -"I don't know what possessed me, Joe," I replied, letting his shirt -sleeve go, and sitting down in the ashes at his feet, hanging my -head "but I wish you hadn't taught me to call Knaves at cards, -Jacks and I wish my boots weren't so thick nor my hands so -coarse." -And then I told Joe that I felt very miserable, and that I hadn't -been able to explain myself to Mrs. Joe and Pumblechook who were so -rude to me, and that there had been a beautiful young lady at Miss -Havisham's who was dreadfully proud, and that she had said I was -common, and that I knew I was common, and that I wished I was not -common, and that the lies had come of it somehow, though I didn't -know how. -This was a case of metaphysics, at least as difficult for Joe to -deal with, as for me. But Joe took the case altogether out of the -region of metaphysics, and by that means vanquished it. -"There's one thing you may be sure of, Pip," said Joe, after some -rumination, "namely, that lies is lies. Howsever they come, they -didn't ought to come, and they come from the father of lies, and -work round to the same. Don't you tell no more of 'em, Pip. That -ain't the way to get out of being common, old chap. And as to being -common, I don't make it out at all clear. You are oncommon in some -things. You're oncommon small. Likewise you're a oncommon scholar." -"No, I am ignorant and backward, Joe." -"Why, see what a letter you wrote last night Wrote in print even -I've seen letters Ah and from gentlefolks that I'll swear -weren't wrote in print," said Joe. -"I have learnt next to nothing, Joe. You think much of me. It's -only that." -"Well, Pip," said Joe, "be it so or be it son't, you must be a -common scholar afore you can be a oncommon one, I should hope The -king upon his throne, with his crown upon his 'ed, can't sit and -write his acts of Parliament in print, without having begun, when -he were a unpromoted Prince, with the alphabet Ah" added Joe, -with a shake of the head that was full of meaning, "and begun at A -too, and worked his way to Z. And I know what that is to do, though -I can't say I've exactly done it." -There was some hope in this piece of wisdom, and it rather -encouraged me. -"Whether common ones as to callings and earnings," pursued Joe, -reflectively, "mightn't be the better of continuing for a keep -company with common ones, instead of going out to play with -oncommon ones which reminds me to hope that there were a flag, -perhaps?" -"No, Joe." -"I'm sorry there weren't a flag, Pip. Whether that might be, or -mightn't be, is a thing as can't be looked into now, without -putting your sister on the Rampage and that's a thing not to be -thought of, as being done intentional. Lookee here, Pip, at what is -said to you by a true friend. Which this to you the true friend -say. If you can't get to be oncommon through going straight, you'll -never get to do it through going crooked. So don't tell no more on -'em, Pip, and live well and die happy." -"You are not angry with me, Joe?" -"No, old chap. But bearing in mind that them were which I -meantersay of a stunning and outdacious sort alluding to them -which bordered on wealcutlets and dogfighting a sincere -wellwisher would adwise, Pip, their being dropped into your -meditations, when you go upstairs to bed. That's all, old chap, -and don't never do it no more." -When I got up to my little room and said my prayers, I did not -forget Joe's recommendation, and yet my young mind was in that -disturbed and unthankful state, that I thought long after I laid me -down, how common Estella would consider Joe, a mere blacksmith how -thick his boots, and how coarse his hands. I thought how Joe and my -sister were then sitting in the kitchen, and how I had come up to -bed from the kitchen, and how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat -in a kitchen, but were far above the level of such common doings. I -fell asleep recalling what I "used to do" when I was at Miss -Havisham's as though I had been there weeks or months, instead of -hours and as though it were quite an old subject of remembrance, -instead of one that had arisen only that day. -That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. -But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck -out of it, and think how different its course would have been. -Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain -of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound -you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day. -Chapter -The felicitous idea occurred to me a morning or two later when I -woke, that the best step I could take towards making myself -uncommon was to get out of Biddy everything she knew. In pursuance -of this luminous conception I mentioned to Biddy when I went to Mr. -Wopsle's greataunt's at night, that I had a particular reason for -wishing to get on in life, and that I should feel very much obliged -to her if she would impart all her learning to me. Biddy, who was -the most obliging of girls, immediately said she would, and indeed -began to carry out her promise within five minutes. -The Educational scheme or Course established by Mr. Wopsle's -greataunt may be resolved into the following synopsis. The pupils -ate apples and put straws down one another's backs, until Mr -Wopsle's greataunt collected her energies, and made an -indiscriminate totter at them with a birchrod. After receiving the -charge with every mark of derision, the pupils formed in line and -buzzingly passed a ragged book from hand to hand. The book had an -alphabet in it, some figures and tables, and a little spelling -that is to say, it had had once. As soon as this volume began to -circulate, Mr. Wopsle's greataunt fell into a state of coma -arising either from sleep or a rheumatic paroxysm. The pupils then -entered among themselves upon a competitive examination on the -subject of Boots, with the view of ascertaining who could tread the -hardest upon whose toes. This mental exercise lasted until Biddy -made a rush at them and distributed three defaced Bibles shaped as -if they had been unskilfully cut off the chumpend of something, -more illegibly printed at the best than any curiosities of -literature I have since met with, speckled all over with ironmould, -and having various specimens of the insect world smashed between -their leaves. This part of the Course was usually lightened by -several single combats between Biddy and refractory students. When -the fights were over, Biddy gave out the number of a page, and then -we all read aloud what we could or what we couldn't in a -frightful chorus Biddy leading with a high shrill monotonous -voice, and none of us having the least notion of, or reverence for, -what we were reading about. When this horrible din had lasted a -certain time, it mechanically awoke Mr. Wopsle's greataunt, who -staggered at a boy fortuitously, and pulled his ears. This was -understood to terminate the Course for the evening, and we emerged -into the air with shrieks of intellectual victory. It is fair to -remark that there was no prohibition against any pupil's -entertaining himself with a slate or even with the ink when there -was any, but that it was not easy to pursue that branch of study -in the winter season, on account of the little general shop in -which the classes were holden and which was also Mr. Wopsle's -greataunt's sittingroom and bedchamber being but faintly -illuminated through the agency of one lowspirited dipcandle and -no snuffers. -It appeared to me that it would take time, to become uncommon under -these circumstances nevertheless, I resolved to try it, and that -very evening Biddy entered on our special agreement, by imparting -some information from her little catalogue of Prices, under the -head of moist sugar, and lending me, to copy at home, a large old -English D which she had imitated from the heading of some -newspaper, and which I supposed, until she told me what it was, to -be a design for a buckle. -Of course there was a publichouse in the village, and of course -Joe liked sometimes to smoke his pipe there. I had received strict -orders from my sister to call for him at the Three Jolly Bargemen, -that evening, on my way from school, and bring him home at my -peril. To the Three Jolly Bargemen, therefore, I directed my steps. -There was a bar at the Jolly Bargemen, with some alarmingly long -chalk scores in it on the wall at the side of the door, which -seemed to me to be never paid off. They had been there ever since I -could remember, and had grown more than I had. But there was a -quantity of chalk about our country, and perhaps the people -neglected no opportunity of turning it to account. -It being Saturday night, I found the landlord looking rather grimly -at these records, but as my business was with Joe and not with him, -I merely wished him good evening, and passed into the common room -at the end of the passage, where there was a bright large kitchen -fire, and where Joe was smoking his pipe in company with Mr. Wopsle -and a stranger. Joe greeted me as usual with "Halloa, Pip, old -chap" and the moment he said that, the stranger turned his head -and looked at me. -He was a secretlooking man whom I had never seen before. His head -was all on one side, and one of his eyes was half shut up, as if he -were taking aim at something with an invisible gun. He had a pipe -in his mouth, and he took it out, and, after slowly blowing all his -smoke away and looking hard at me all the time, nodded. So, I -nodded, and then he nodded again, and made room on the settle -beside him that I might sit down there. -But, as I was used to sit beside Joe whenever I entered that place -of resort, I said "No, thank you, sir," and fell into the space Joe -made for me on the opposite settle. The strange man, after glancing -at Joe, and seeing that his attention was otherwise engaged, nodded -to me again when I had taken my seat, and then rubbed his leg in -a very odd way, as it struck me. -"You was saying," said the strange man, turning to Joe, "that you -was a blacksmith." -"Yes. I said it, you know," said Joe. -"What'll you drink, Mr. ? You didn't mention your name, -bythebye." -Joe mentioned it now, and the strange man called him by it. -"What'll you drink, Mr. Gargery? At my expense? To top up with?" -"Well," said Joe, "to tell you the truth, I ain't much in the habit -of drinking at anybody's expense but my own." -"Habit? No," returned the stranger, "but once and away, and on a -Saturday night too. Come Put a name to it, Mr. Gargery." -"I wouldn't wish to be stiff company," said Joe. "Rum." -"Rum," repeated the stranger. "And will the other gentleman -originate a sentiment." -"Rum," said Mr. Wopsle. -"Three Rums" cried the stranger, calling to the landlord. "Glasses -round" -"This other gentleman," observed Joe, by way of introducing Mr. -Wopsle, "is a gentleman that you would like to hear give it out. -Our clerk at church." -"Aha" said the stranger, quickly, and cocking his eye at me. "The -lonely church, right out on the marshes, with graves round it" -"That's it," said Joe. -The stranger, with a comfortable kind of grunt over his pipe, put -his legs up on the settle that he had to himself. He wore a -flapping broadbrimmed traveller's hat, and under it a handkerchief -tied over his head in the manner of a cap so that he showed no -hair. As he looked at the fire, I thought I saw a cunning -expression, followed by a halflaugh, come into his face. -"I am not acquainted with this country, gentlemen, but it seems a -solitary country towards the river." -"Most marshes is solitary," said Joe. -"No doubt, no doubt. Do you find any gipsies, now, or tramps, or -vagrants of any sort, out there?" -"No," said Joe "none but a runaway convict now and then. And we -don't find them, easy. Eh, Mr. Wopsle?" -Mr. Wopsle, with a majestic remembrance of old discomfiture, -assented but not warmly. -"Seems you have been out after such?" asked the stranger. -"Once," returned Joe. "Not that we wanted to take them, you -understand we went out as lookers on me, and Mr. Wopsle, and Pip. -Didn't us, Pip?" -"Yes, Joe." -The stranger looked at me again still cocking his eye, as if he -were expressly taking aim at me with his invisible gun and said, -"He's a likely young parcel of bones that. What is it you call -him?" -"Pip," said Joe. -"Christened Pip?" -"No, not christened Pip." -"Surname Pip?" -"No," said Joe, "it's a kind of family name what he gave himself -when a infant, and is called by." -"Son of yours?" -"Well," said Joe, meditatively not, of course, that it could be -in anywise necessary to consider about it, but because it was the -way at the Jolly Bargemen to seem to consider deeply about -everything that was discussed over pipes "well no. No, he -ain't." -"Nevvy?" said the strange man. -"Well," said Joe, with the same appearance of profound cogitation, -"he is not no, not to deceive you, he is not my nevvy." -"What the Blue Blazes is he?" asked the stranger. Which appeared to -me to be an inquiry of unnecessary strength. -Mr. Wopsle struck in upon that as one who knew all about -relationships, having professional occasion to bear in mind what -female relations a man might not marry and expounded the ties -between me and Joe. Having his hand in, Mr. Wopsle finished off with -a most terrifically snarling passage from Richard the Third, and -seemed to think he had done quite enough to account for it when he -added, "as the poet says." -And here I may remark that when Mr. Wopsle referred to me, he -considered it a necessary part of such reference to rumple my hair -and poke it into my eyes. I cannot conceive why everybody of his -standing who visited at our house should always have put me through -the same inflammatory process under similar circumstances. Yet I do -not call to mind that I was ever in my earlier youth the subject of -remark in our social family circle, but some largehanded person -took some such ophthalmic steps to patronize me. -All this while, the strange man looked at nobody but me, and looked -at me as if he were determined to have a shot at me at last, and -bring me down. But he said nothing after offering his Blue Blazes -observation, until the glasses of rumandwater were brought and -then he made his shot, and a most extraordinary shot it was. -It was not a verbal remark, but a proceeding in dump show, and was -pointedly addressed to me. He stirred his rumandwater pointedly -at me, and he tasted his rumandwater pointedly at me. And he -stirred it and he tasted it not with a spoon that was brought to -him, but with a file. -He did this so that nobody but I saw the file and when he had done -it he wiped the file and put it in a breastpocket. I knew it to be -Joe's file, and I knew that he knew my convict, the moment I saw -the instrument. I sat gazing at him, spellbound. But he now -reclined on his settle, taking very little notice of me, and -talking principally about turnips. -There was a delicious sense of cleaningup and making a quiet pause -before going on in life afresh, in our village on Saturday nights, -which stimulated Joe to dare to stay out half an hour longer on -Saturdays than at other times. The half hour and the rumandwater -running out together, Joe got up to go, and took me by the hand. -"Stop half a moment, Mr. Gargery," said the strange man. "I think -I've got a bright new shilling somewhere in my pocket, and if I -have, the boy shall have it." -He looked it out from a handful of small change, folded it in some -crumpled paper, and gave it to me. "Yours" said he. "Mind Your -own." -I thanked him, staring at him far beyond the bounds of good -manners, and holding tight to Joe. He gave Joe goodnight, and he -gave Mr. Wopsle goodnight who went out with us, and he gave me -only a look with his aiming eye no, not a look, for he shut it -up, but wonders may be done with an eye by hiding it. -On the way home, if I had been in a humour for talking, the talk -must have been all on my side, for Mr. Wopsle parted from us at the -door of the Jolly Bargemen, and Joe went all the way home with his -mouth wide open, to rinse the rum out with as much air as possible. -But I was in a manner stupefied by this turning up of my old -misdeed and old acquaintance, and could think of nothing else. -My sister was not in a very bad temper when we presented ourselves -in the kitchen, and Joe was encouraged by that unusual circumstance -to tell her about the bright shilling. "A bad un, I'll be bound," -said Mrs. Joe triumphantly, "or he wouldn't have given it to the -boy Let's look at it." -I took it out of the paper, and it proved to be a good one. "But -what's this?" said Mrs. Joe, throwing down the shilling and catching -up the paper. "Two OnePound notes?" -Nothing less than two fat sweltering onepound notes that seemed to -have been on terms of the warmest intimacy with all the cattle -markets in the county. Joe caught up his hat again, and ran with -them to the Jolly Bargemen to restore them to their owner. While he -was gone, I sat down on my usual stool and looked vacantly at my -sister, feeling pretty sure that the man would not be there. -Presently, Joe came back, saying that the man was gone, but that -he, Joe, had left word at the Three Jolly Bargemen concerning the -notes. Then my sister sealed them up in a piece of paper, and put -them under some dried roseleaves in an ornamental teapot on the -top of a press in the state parlour. There they remained, a -nightmare to me, many and many a night and day. -I had sadly broken sleep when I got to bed, through thinking of the -strange man taking aim at me with his invisible gun, and of the -guiltily coarse and common thing it was, to be on secret terms of -conspiracy with convicts a feature in my low career that I had -previously forgotten. I was haunted by the file too. A dread -possessed me that when I least expected it, the file would -reappear. I coaxed myself to sleep by thinking of Miss Havisham's, -next Wednesday and in my sleep I saw the file coming at me out of -a door, without seeing who held it, and I screamed myself awake. -Chapter -At the appointed time I returned to Miss Havisham's, and my -hesitating ring at the gate brought out Estella. She locked it -after admitting me, as she had done before, and again preceded me -into the dark passage where her candle stood. She took no notice of -me until she had the candle in her hand, when she looked over her -shoulder, superciliously saying, "You are to come this way today," -and took me to quite another part of the house. -The passage was a long one, and seemed to pervade the whole square -basement of the Manor House. We traversed but one side of the -square, however, and at the end of it she stopped, and put her -candle down and opened a door. Here, the daylight reappeared, and I -found myself in a small paved courtyard, the opposite side of -which was formed by a detached dwellinghouse, that looked as if it -had once belonged to the manager or head clerk of the extinct -brewery. There was a clock in the outer wall of this house. Like -the clock in Miss Havisham's room, and like Miss Havisham's watch, -it had stopped at twenty minutes to nine. -We went in at the door, which stood open, and into a gloomy room -with a low ceiling, on the ground floor at the back. There was some -company in the room, and Estella said to me as she joined it, "You -are to go and stand there, boy, till you are wanted." "There", -being the window, I crossed to it, and stood "there," in a very -uncomfortable state of mind, looking out. -It opened to the ground, and looked into a most miserable corner of -the neglected garden, upon a rank ruin of cabbagestalks, and one -box tree that had been clipped round long ago, like a pudding, and -had a new growth at the top of it, out of shape and of a different -colour, as if that part of the pudding had stuck to the saucepan -and got burnt. This was my homely thought, as I contemplated the -boxtree. There had been some light snow, overnight, and it lay -nowhere else to my knowledge but, it had not quite melted from the -cold shadow of this bit of garden, and the wind caught it up in -little eddies and threw it at the window, as if it pelted me for -coming there. -I divined that my coming had stopped conversation in the room, and -that its other occupants were looking at me. I could see nothing of -the room except the shining of the fire in the window glass, but I -stiffened in all my joints with the consciousness that I was under -close inspection. -There were three ladies in the room and one gentleman. Before I had -been standing at the window five minutes, they somehow conveyed to -me that they were all toadies and humbugs, but that each of them -pretended not to know that the others were toadies and humbugs -because the admission that he or she did know it, would have made -him or her out to be a toady and humbug. -They all had a listless and dreary air of waiting somebody's -pleasure, and the most talkative of the ladies had to speak quite -rigidly to repress a yawn. This lady, whose name was Camilla, very -much reminded me of my sister, with the difference that she was -older, and as I found when I caught sight of her of a blunter -cast of features. Indeed, when I knew her better I began to think -it was a Mercy she had any features at all, so very blank and high -was the dead wall of her face. -"Poor dear soul" said this lady, with an abruptness of manner -quite my sister's. "Nobody's enemy but his own" -"It would be much more commendable to be somebody else's enemy," -said the gentleman "far more natural." -"Cousin Raymond," observed another lady, "we are to love our -neighbour." -"Sarah Pocket," returned Cousin Raymond, "if a man is not his own -neighbour, who is?" -Miss Pocket laughed, and Camilla laughed and said checking a -yawn, "The idea" But I thought they seemed to think it rather a -good idea too. The other lady, who had not spoken yet, said gravely -and emphatically, "Very true" -"Poor soul" Camilla presently went on I knew they had all been -looking at me in the mean time, "he is so very strange Would -anyone believe that when Tom's wife died, he actually could not be -induced to see the importance of the children's having the deepest -of trimmings to their mourning? 'Good Lord' says he, 'Camilla, -what can it signify so long as the poor bereaved little things are -in black?' So like Matthew The idea" -"Good points in him, good points in him," said Cousin Raymond -"Heaven forbid I should deny good points in him but he never had, -and he never will have, any sense of the proprieties." -"You know I was obliged," said Camilla, "I was obliged to be firm. -I said, 'It WILL NOT DO, for the credit of the family.' I told him -that, without deep trimmings, the family was disgraced. I cried -about it from breakfast till dinner. I injured my digestion. And at -last he flung out in his violent way, and said, with a D, 'Then do -as you like.' Thank Goodness it will always be a consolation to me -to know that I instantly went out in a pouring rain and bought the -things." -"He paid for them, did he not?" asked Estella. -"It's not the question, my dear child, who paid for them," returned -Camilla. "I bought them. And I shall often think of that with -peace, when I wake up in the night." -The ringing of a distant bell, combined with the echoing of some -cry or call along the passage by which I had come, interrupted the -conversation and caused Estella to say to me, "Now, boy" On my -turning round, they all looked at me with the utmost contempt, and, -as I went out, I heard Sarah Pocket say, "Well I am sure What -next" and Camilla add, with indignation, "Was there ever such a -fancy The idea" -As we were going with our candle along the dark passage, Estella -stopped all of a sudden, and, facing round, said in her taunting -manner with her face quite close to mine -"Well?" -"Well, miss?" I answered, almost falling over her and checking -myself. -She stood looking at me, and, of course, I stood looking at her. -"Am I pretty?" -"Yes I think you are very pretty." -"Am I insulting?" -"Not so much so as you were last time," said I. -"Not so much so?" -"No." -She fired when she asked the last question, and she slapped my face -with such force as she had, when I answered it. -"Now?" said she. "You little coarse monster, what do you think of -me now?" -"I shall not tell you." -"Because you are going to tell, upstairs. Is that it?" -"No," said I, "that's not it." -"Why don't you cry again, you little wretch?" -"Because I'll never cry for you again," said I. Which was, I -suppose, as false a declaration as ever was made for I was -inwardly crying for her then, and I know what I know of the pain -she cost me afterwards. -We went on our way upstairs after this episode and, as we were -going up, we met a gentleman groping his way down. -"Whom have we here?" asked the gentleman, stopping and looking at -me. -"A boy," said Estella. -He was a burly man of an exceedingly dark complexion, with an -exceedingly large head and a corresponding large hand. He took my -chin in his large hand and turned up my face to have a look at me -by the light of the candle. He was prematurely bald on the top of -his head, and had bushy black eyebrows that wouldn't lie down but -stood up bristling. His eyes were set very deep in his head, and -were disagreeably sharp and suspicious. He had a large watchchain, -and strong black dots where his beard and whiskers would have been -if he had let them. He was nothing to me, and I could have had no -foresight then, that he ever would be anything to me, but it -happened that I had this opportunity of observing him well. -"Boy of the neighbourhood? Hey?" said he. -"Yes, sir," said I. -"How do you come here?" -"Miss Havisham sent for me, sir," I explained. -"Well Behave yourself. I have a pretty large experience of boys, -and you're a bad set of fellows. Now mind" said he, biting the -side of his great forefinger as he frowned at me, "you behave -yourself" -With those words, he released me which I was glad of, for his -hand smelt of scented soap and went his way downstairs. I -wondered whether he could be a doctor but no, I thought he -couldn't be a doctor, or he would have a quieter and more -persuasive manner. There was not much time to consider the subject, -for we were soon in Miss Havisham's room, where she and everything -else were just as I had left them. Estella left me standing near -the door, and I stood there until Miss Havisham cast her eyes upon -me from the dressingtable. -"So" she said, without being startled or surprised "the days have -worn away, have they?" -"Yes, ma'am. Today is" -"There, there, there" with the impatient movement of her fingers. -"I don't want to know. Are you ready to play?" -I was obliged to answer in some confusion, "I don't think I am, -ma'am." -"Not at cards again?" she demanded, with a searching look. -"Yes, ma'am I could do that, if I was wanted." -"Since this house strikes you old and grave, boy," said Miss -Havisham, impatiently, "and you are unwilling to play, are you -willing to work?" -I could answer this inquiry with a better heart than I had been -able to find for the other question, and I said I was quite -willing. -"Then go into that opposite room," said she, pointing at the door -behind me with her withered hand, "and wait there till I come." -I crossed the staircase landing, and entered the room she -indicated. From that room, too, the daylight was completely -excluded, and it had an airless smell that was oppressive. A fire -had been lately kindled in the damp oldfashioned grate, and it was -more disposed to go out than to burn up, and the reluctant smoke -which hung in the room seemed colder than the clearer air like -our own marsh mist. Certain wintry branches of candles on the high -chimneypiece faintly lighted the chamber or, it would be more -expressive to say, faintly troubled its darkness. It was spacious, -and I dare say had once been handsome, but every discernible thing -in it was covered with dust and mould, and dropping to pieces. The -most prominent object was a long table with a tablecloth spread on -it, as if a feast had been in preparation when the house and the -clocks all stopped together. An epergne or centrepiece of some kind -was in the middle of this cloth it was so heavily overhung with -cobwebs that its form was quite undistinguishable and, as I looked -along the yellow expanse out of which I remember its seeming to -grow, like a black fungus, I saw speckledlegged spiders with -blotchy bodies running home to it, and running out from it, as if -some circumstances of the greatest public importance had just -transpired in the spider community. -I heard the mice too, rattling behind the panels, as if the same -occurrence were important to their interests. But, the blackbeetles -took no notice of the agitation, and groped about the hearth in a -ponderous elderly way, as if they were shortsighted and hard of -hearing, and not on terms with one another. -These crawling things had fascinated my attention and I was -watching them from a distance, when Miss Havisham laid a hand upon -my shoulder. In her other hand she had a crutchheaded stick on -which she leaned, and she looked like the Witch of the place. -"This," said she, pointing to the long table with her stick, "is -where I will be laid when I am dead. They shall come and look at me -here." -With some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then -and there and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly -waxwork at the Fair, I shrank under her touch. -"What do you think that is?" she asked me, again pointing with her -stick "that, where those cobwebs are?" -"I can't guess what it is, ma'am." -"It's a great cake. A bridecake. Mine" -She looked all round the room in a glaring manner, and then said, -leaning on me while her hand twitched my shoulder, "Come, come, -come Walk me, walk me" -I made out from this, that the work I had to do, was to walk Miss -Havisham round and round the room. Accordingly, I started at once, -and she leaned upon my shoulder, and we went away at a pace that -might have been an imitation founded on my first impulse under -that roof of Mr. Pumblechook's chaisecart. -She was not physically strong, and after a little time said, -"Slower" Still, we went at an impatient fitful speed, and as we -went, she twitched the hand upon my shoulder, and worked her mouth, -and led me to believe that we were going fast because her thoughts -went fast. After a while she said, "Call Estella" so I went out on -the landing and roared that name as I had done on the previous -occasion. When her light appeared, I returned to Miss Havisham, and -we started away again round and round the room. -If only Estella had come to be a spectator of our proceedings, I -should have felt sufficiently discontented but, as she brought -with her the three ladies and the gentleman whom I had seen below, -I didn't know what to do. In my politeness, I would have stopped -but, Miss Havisham twitched my shoulder, and we posted on with a -shamefaced consciousness on my part that they would think it was -all my doing. -"Dear Miss Havisham," said Miss Sarah Pocket. "How well you look" -"I do not," returned Miss Havisham. "I am yellow skin and bone." -Camilla brightened when Miss Pocket met with this rebuff and she -murmured, as she plaintively contemplated Miss Havisham, "Poor dear -soul Certainly not to be expected to look well, poor thing. The -idea" -"And how are you?" said Miss Havisham to Camilla. As we were close -to Camilla then, I would have stopped as a matter of course, only -Miss Havisham wouldn't stop. We swept on, and I felt that I was -highly obnoxious to Camilla. -"Thank you, Miss Havisham," she returned, "I am as well as can be -expected." -"Why, what's the matter with you?" asked Miss Havisham, with -exceeding sharpness. -"Nothing worth mentioning," replied Camilla. "I don't wish to make -a display of my feelings, but I have habitually thought of you more -in the night than I am quite equal to." -"Then don't think of me," retorted Miss Havisham. -"Very easily said" remarked Camilla, amiably repressing a sob, -while a hitch came into her upper lip, and her tears overflowed. -"Raymond is a witness what ginger and sal volatile I am obliged to -take in the night. Raymond is a witness what nervous jerkings I -have in my legs. Chokings and nervous jerkings, however, are -nothing new to me when I think with anxiety of those I love. If I -could be less affectionate and sensitive, I should have a better -digestion and an iron set of nerves. I am sure I wish it could be -so. But as to not thinking of you in the night The idea" Here, a -burst of tears. -The Raymond referred to, I understood to be the gentleman present, -and him I understood to be Mr. Camilla. He came to the rescue at -this point, and said in a consolatory and complimentary voice, -"Camilla, my dear, it is well known that your family feelings are -gradually undermining you to the extent of making one of your legs -shorter than the other." -"I am not aware," observed the grave lady whose voice I had heard -but once, "that to think of any person is to make a great claim -upon that person, my dear." -Miss Sarah Pocket, whom I now saw to be a little dry brown -corrugated old woman, with a small face that might have been made -of walnut shells, and a large mouth like a cat's without the -whiskers, supported this position by saying, "No, indeed, my dear. -Hem" -"Thinking is easy enough," said the grave lady. -"What is easier, you know?" assented Miss Sarah Pocket. -"Oh, yes, yes" cried Camilla, whose fermenting feelings appeared -to rise from her legs to her bosom. "It's all very true It's a -weakness to be so affectionate, but I can't help it. No doubt my -health would be much better if it was otherwise, still I wouldn't -change my disposition if I could. It's the cause of much suffering, -but it's a consolation to know I posses it, when I wake up in the -night." Here another burst of feeling. -Miss Havisham and I had never stopped all this time, but kept going -round and round the room now, brushing against the skirts of the -visitors now, giving them the whole length of the dismal chamber. -"There's Matthew" said Camilla. "Never mixing with any natural -ties, never coming here to see how Miss Havisham is I have taken -to the sofa with my staylace cut, and have lain there hours, -insensible, with my head over the side, and my hair all down, and -my feet I don't know where" -"Much higher than your head, my love," said Mr. Camilla. -"I have gone off into that state, hours and hours, on account of -Matthew's strange and inexplicable conduct, and nobody has thanked -me." -"Really I must say I should think not" interposed the grave lady. -"You see, my dear," added Miss Sarah Pocket a blandly vicious -personage, "the question to put to yourself is, who did you expect -to thank you, my love?" -"Without expecting any thanks, or anything of the sort," resumed -Camilla, "I have remained in that state, hours and hours, and -Raymond is a witness of the extent to which I have choked, and what -the total inefficacy of ginger has been, and I have been heard at -the pianofortetuner's across the street, where the poor mistaken -children have even supposed it to be pigeons cooing at a -distanceand now to be told." Here Camilla put her hand to her -throat, and began to be quite chemical as to the formation of new -combinations there. -When this same Matthew was mentioned, Miss Havisham stopped me and -herself, and stood looking at the speaker. This change had a great -influence in bringing Camilla's chemistry to a sudden end. -"Matthew will come and see me at last," said Miss Havisham, -sternly, "when I am laid on that table. That will be his place -there," striking the table with her stick, "at my head And yours -will be there And your husband's there And Sarah Pocket's there -And Georgiana's there Now you all know where to take your stations -when you come to feast upon me. And now go" -At the mention of each name, she had struck the table with her -stick in a new place. She now said, "Walk me, walk me" and we went -on again. -"I suppose there's nothing to be done," exclaimed Camilla, "but -comply and depart. It's something to have seen the object of one's -love and duty, for even so short a time. I shall think of it with a -melancholy satisfaction when I wake up in the night. I wish Matthew -could have that comfort, but he sets it at defiance. I am -determined not to make a display of my feelings, but it's very hard -to be told one wants to feast on one's relations as if one was a -Giant and to be told to go. The bare idea" -Mr. Camilla interposing, as Mrs. Camilla laid her hand upon her -heaving bosom, that lady assumed an unnatural fortitude of manner -which I supposed to be expressive of an intention to drop and choke -when out of view, and kissing her hand to Miss Havisham, was -escorted forth. Sarah Pocket and Georgiana contended who should -remain last but, Sarah was too knowing to be outdone, and ambled -round Georgiana with that artful slipperiness, that the latter was -obliged to take precedence. Sarah Pocket then made her separate -effect of departing with "Bless you, Miss Havisham dear" and with -a smile of forgiving pity on her walnutshell countenance for the -weaknesses of the rest. -While Estella was away lighting them down, Miss Havisham still -walked with her hand on my shoulder, but more and more slowly. At -last she stopped before the fire, and said, after muttering and -looking at it some seconds -"This is my birthday, Pip." -I was going to wish her many happy returns, when she lifted her -stick. -"I don't suffer it to be spoken of. I don't suffer those who were -here just now, or any one, to speak of it. They come here on the -day, but they dare not refer to it." -Of course I made no further effort to refer to it. -"On this day of the year, long before you were born, this heap of -decay," stabbing with her crutched stick at the pile of cobwebs on -the table but not touching it, "was brought here. It and I have -worn away together. The mice have gnawed at it, and sharper teeth -than teeth of mice have gnawed at me." -She held the head of her stick against her heart as she stood -looking at the table she in her once white dress, all yellow and -withered the once white cloth all yellow and withered everything -around, in a state to crumble under a touch. -"When the ruin is complete," said she, with a ghastly look, "and -when they lay me dead, in my bride's dress on the bride's table -which shall be done, and which will be the finished curse upon him -so much the better if it is done on this day" -She stood looking at the table as if she stood looking at her own -figure lying there. I remained quiet. Estella returned, and she too -remained quiet. It seemed to me that we continued thus for a long -time. In the heavy air of the room, and the heavy darkness that -brooded in its remoter corners, I even had an alarming fancy that -Estella and I might presently begin to decay. -At length, not coming out of her distraught state by degrees, but -in an instant, Miss Havisham said, "Let me see you two play cards -why have you not begun?" With that, we returned to her room, and -sat down as before I was beggared, as before and again, as -before, Miss Havisham watched us all the time, directed my -attention to Estella's beauty, and made me notice it the more by -trying her jewels on Estella's breast and hair. -Estella, for her part, likewise treated me as before except that -she did not condescend to speak. When we had played some halfdozen -games, a day was appointed for my return, and I was taken down into -the yard to be fed in the former doglike manner. There, too, I was -again left to wander about as I liked. -It is not much to the purpose whether a gate in that garden wall -which I had scrambled up to peep over on the last occasion was, on -that last occasion, open or shut. Enough that I saw no gate then, -and that I saw one now. As it stood open, and as I knew that -Estella had let the visitors out for, she had returned with the -keys in her hand I strolled into the garden and strolled all over -it. It was quite a wilderness, and there were old melonframes and -cucumberframes in it, which seemed in their decline to have -produced a spontaneous growth of weak attempts at pieces of old -hats and boots, with now and then a weedy offshoot into the -likeness of a battered saucepan. -When I had exhausted the garden, and a greenhouse with nothing in -it but a fallendown grapevine and some bottles, I found myself in -the dismal corner upon which I had looked out of the window. Never -questioning for a moment that the house was now empty, I looked in -at another window, and found myself, to my great surprise, -exchanging a broad stare with a pale young gentleman with red -eyelids and light hair. -This pale young gentleman quickly disappeared, and reappeared -beside me. He had been at his books when I had found myself staring -at him, and I now saw that he was inky. -"Halloa" said he, "young fellow" -Halloa being a general observation which I had usually observed to -be best answered by itself, I said, "Halloa" politely omitting -young fellow. -"Who let you in?" said he. -"Miss Estella." -"Who gave you leave to prowl about?" -"Miss Estella." -"Come and fight," said the pale young gentleman. -What could I do but follow him? I have often asked myself the -question since but, what else could I do? His manner was so final -and I was so astonished, that I followed where he led, as if I had -been under a spell. -"Stop a minute, though," he said, wheeling round before we had gone -many paces. "I ought to give you a reason for fighting, too. There -it is" In a most irritating manner he instantly slapped his hands -against one another, daintily flung one of his legs up behind him, -pulled my hair, slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and -butted it into my stomach. -The bulllike proceeding last mentioned, besides that it was -unquestionably to be regarded in the light of a liberty, was -particularly disagreeable just after bread and meat. I therefore -hit out at him and was going to hit out again, when he said, -"Aha Would you?" and began dancing backwards and forwards in a -manner quite unparalleled within my limited experience. -"Laws of the game" said he. Here, he skipped from his left leg on -to his right. "Regular rules" Here, he skipped from his right leg -on to his left. "Come to the ground, and go through the -preliminaries" Here, he dodged backwards and forwards, and did all -sorts of things while I looked helplessly at him. -I was secretly afraid of him when I saw him so dexterous but, I -felt morally and physically convinced that his light head of hair -could have had no business in the pit of my stomach, and that I had -a right to consider it irrelevant when so obtruded on my attention. -Therefore, I followed him without a word, to a retired nook of the -garden, formed by the junction of two walls and screened by some -rubbish. On his asking me if I was satisfied with the ground, and -on my replying Yes, he begged my leave to absent himself for a -moment, and quickly returned with a bottle of water and a sponge -dipped in vinegar. "Available for both," he said, placing these -against the wall. And then fell to pulling off, not only his jacket -and waistcoat, but his shirt too, in a manner at once -lighthearted, businesslike, and bloodthirsty. -Although he did not look very healthy having pimples on his face, -and a breaking out at his mouth these dreadful preparations quite -appalled me. I judged him to be about my own age, but he was much -taller, and he had a way of spinning himself about that was full of -appearance. For the rest, he was a young gentleman in a grey suit -when not denuded for battle, with his elbows, knees, wrists, and -heels, considerably in advance of the rest of him as to -development. -My heart failed me when I saw him squaring at me with every -demonstration of mechanical nicety, and eyeing my anatomy as if he -were minutely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in -my life, as I was when I let out the first blow, and saw him lying -on his back, looking up at me with a bloody nose and his face -exceedingly foreshortened. -But, he was on his feet directly, and after sponging himself with a -great show of dexterity began squaring again. The second greatest -surprise I have ever had in my life was seeing him on his back -again, looking up at me out of a black eye. -His spirit inspired me with great respect. He seemed to have no -strength, and he never once hit me hard, and he was always knocked -down but, he would be up again in a moment, sponging himself or -drinking out of the waterbottle, with the greatest satisfaction in -seconding himself according to form, and then came at me with an -air and a show that made me believe he really was going to do for -me at last. He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry to record that -the more I hit him, the harder I hit him but, he came up again and -again and again, until at last he got a bad fall with the back of -his head against the wall. Even after that crisis in our affairs, -he got up and turned round and round confusedly a few times, not -knowing where I was but finally went on his knees to his sponge -and threw it up at the same time panting out, "That means you have -won." -He seemed so brave and innocent, that although I had not proposed -the contest I felt but a gloomy satisfaction in my victory. Indeed, -I go so far as to hope that I regarded myself while dressing, as a -species of savage young wolf, or other wild beast. However, I got -dressed, darkly wiping my sanguinary face at intervals, and I said, -"Can I help you?" and he said "No thankee," and I said "Good -afternoon," and he said "Same to you." -When I got into the courtyard, I found Estella waiting with the -keys. But, she neither asked me where I had been, nor why I had -kept her waiting and there was a bright flush upon her face, as -though something had happened to delight her. Instead of going -straight to the gate, too, she stepped back into the passage, and -beckoned me. -"Come here You may kiss me, if you like." -I kissed her cheek as she turned it to me. I think I would have -gone through a great deal to kiss her cheek. But, I felt that the -kiss was given to the coarse common boy as a piece of money might -have been, and that it was worth nothing. -What with the birthday visitors, and what with the cards, and what -with the fight, my stay had lasted so long, that when I neared home -the light on the spit of sand off the point on the marshes was -gleaming against a black nightsky, and Joe's furnace was flinging -a path of fire across the road. -Chapter -My mind grew very uneasy on the subject of the pale young -gentleman. The more I thought of the fight, and recalled the pale -young gentleman on his back in various stages of puffy and -incrimsoned countenance, the more certain it appeared that -something would be done to me. I felt that the pale young -gentleman's blood was on my head, and that the Law would avenge it. -Without having any definite idea of the penalties I had incurred, -it was clear to me that village boys could not go stalking about -the country, ravaging the houses of gentlefolks and pitching into -the studious youth of England, without laying themselves open to -severe punishment. For some days, I even kept close at home, and -looked out at the kitchen door with the greatest caution and -trepidation before going on an errand, lest the officers of the -County Jail should pounce upon me. The pale young gentleman's nose -had stained my trousers, and I tried to wash out that evidence of -my guilt in the dead of night. I had cut my knuckles against the -pale young gentleman's teeth, and I twisted my imagination into a -thousand tangles, as I devised incredible ways of accounting for -that damnatory circumstance when I should be haled before the -Judges. -When the day came round for my return to the scene of the deed of -violence, my terrors reached their height. Whether myrmidons of -Justice, specially sent down from London, would be lying in ambush -behind the gate? Whether Miss Havisham, preferring to take personal -vengeance for an outrage done to her house, might rise in those -graveclothes of hers, draw a pistol, and shoot me dead? Whether -suborned boys a numerous band of mercenaries might be engaged -to fall upon me in the brewery, and cuff me until I was no more? It -was high testimony to my confidence in the spirit of the pale young -gentleman, that I never imagined him accessory to these -retaliations they always came into my mind as the acts of -injudicious relatives of his, goaded on by the state of his visage -and an indignant sympathy with the family features. -However, go to Miss Havisham's I must, and go I did. And behold -nothing came of the late struggle. It was not alluded to in any -way, and no pale young gentleman was to be discovered on the -premises. I found the same gate open, and I explored the garden, -and even looked in at the windows of the detached house but, my -view was suddenly stopped by the closed shutters within, and all -was lifeless. Only in the corner where the combat had taken place, -could I detect any evidence of the young gentleman's existence. -There were traces of his gore in that spot, and I covered them with -gardenmould from the eye of man. -On the broad landing between Miss Havisham's own room and that -other room in which the long table was laid out, I saw a -gardenchair a light chair on wheels, that you pushed from -behind. It had been placed there since my last visit, and I -entered, that same day, on a regular occupation of pushing Miss -Havisham in this chair when she was tired of walking with her hand -upon my shoulder round her own room, and across the landing, and -round the other room. Over and over and over again, we would make -these journeys, and sometimes they would last as long as three -hours at a stretch. I insensibly fall into a general mention of -these journeys as numerous, because it was at once settled that I -should return every alternate day at noon for these purposes, and -because I am now going to sum up a period of at least eight or ten -months. -As we began to be more used to one another, Miss Havisham talked -more to me, and asked me such questions as what had I learnt and -what was I going to be? I told her I was going to be apprenticed to -Joe, I believed and I enlarged upon my knowing nothing and wanting -to know everything, in the hope that she might offer some help -towards that desirable end. But, she did not on the contrary, she -seemed to prefer my being ignorant. Neither did she ever give me -any money or anything but my daily dinner nor ever stipulate -that I should be paid for my services. -Estella was always about, and always let me in and out, but never -told me I might kiss her again. Sometimes, she would coldly -tolerate me sometimes, she would condescend to me sometimes, she -would be quite familiar with me sometimes, she would tell me -energetically that she hated me. Miss Havisham would often ask me -in a whisper, or when we were alone, "Does she grow prettier and -prettier, Pip?" And when I said yes for indeed she did, would -seem to enjoy it greedily. Also, when we played at cards Miss -Havisham would look on, with a miserly relish of Estella's moods, -whatever they were. And sometimes, when her moods were so many and -so contradictory of one another that I was puzzled what to say or -do, Miss Havisham would embrace her with lavish fondness, murmuring -something in her ear that sounded like "Break their hearts my pride -and hope, break their hearts and have no mercy" -There was a song Joe used to hum fragments of at the forge, of -which the burden was Old Clem. This was not a very ceremonious way -of rendering homage to a patron saint but, I believe Old Clem -stood in that relation towards smiths. It was a song that imitated -the measure of beating upon iron, and was a mere lyrical excuse for -the introduction of Old Clem's respected name. Thus, you were to -hammer boys round Old Clem With a thump and a sound Old Clem -Beat it out, beat it out Old Clem With a clink for the stout -Old Clem Blow the fire, blow the fire Old Clem Roaring dryer, -soaring higher Old Clem One day soon after the appearance of the -chair, Miss Havisham suddenly saying to me, with the impatient -movement of her fingers, "There, there, there Sing" I was -surprised into crooning this ditty as I pushed her over the floor. -It happened so to catch her fancy, that she took it up in a low -brooding voice as if she were singing in her sleep. After that, it -became customary with us to have it as we moved about, and Estella -would often join in though the whole strain was so subdued, even -when there were three of us, that it made less noise in the grim -old house than the lightest breath of wind. -What could I become with these surroundings? How could my character -fail to be influenced by them? Is it to be wondered at if my -thoughts were dazed, as my eyes were, when I came out into the -natural light from the misty yellow rooms? -Perhaps, I might have told Joe about the pale young gentleman, if I -had not previously been betrayed into those enormous inventions to -which I had confessed. Under the circumstances, I felt that Joe -could hardly fail to discern in the pale young gentleman, an -appropriate passenger to be put into the black velvet coach -therefore, I said nothing of him. Besides that shrinking from -having Miss Havisham and Estella discussed, which had come upon me -in the beginning, grew much more potent as time went on. I reposed -complete confidence in no one but Biddy but, I told poor Biddy -everything. Why it came natural to me to do so, and why Biddy had a -deep concern in everything I told her, I did not know then, though -I think I know now. -Meanwhile, councils went on in the kitchen at home, fraught with -almost insupportable aggravation to my exasperated spirit. That -ass, Pumblechook, used often to come over of a night for the purpose -of discussing my prospects with my sister and I really do believe -to this hour with less penitence than I ought to feel, that if -these hands could have taken a linchpin out of his chaisecart, -they would have done it. The miserable man was a man of that -confined stolidity of mind, that he could not discuss my prospects -without having me before him as it were, to operate upon and he -would drag me up from my stool usually by the collar where I was -quiet in a corner, and, putting me before the fire as if I were -going to be cooked, would begin by saying, "Now, Mum, here is this -boy Here is this boy which you brought up by hand. Hold up your -head, boy, and be for ever grateful unto them which so did do. Now, -Mum, with respections to this boy" And then he would rumple my -hair the wrong way which from my earliest remembrance, as already -hinted, I have in my soul denied the right of any fellowcreature -to do and would hold me before him by the sleeve a spectacle of -imbecility only to be equalled by himself. -Then, he and my sister would pair off in such nonsensical -speculations about Miss Havisham, and about what she would do with -me and for me, that I used to want quite painfully to burst -into spiteful tears, fly at Pumblechook, and pummel him all over. -In these dialogues, my sister spoke to me as if she were morally -wrenching one of my teeth out at every reference while Pumblechook -himself, selfconstituted my patron, would sit supervising me with -a depreciatory eye, like the architect of my fortunes who thought -himself engaged on a very unremunerative job. -In these discussions, Joe bore no part. But he was often talked at, -while they were in progress, by reason of Mrs. Joe's perceiving that -he was not favourable to my being taken from the forge. I was fully -old enough now, to be apprenticed to Joe and when Joe sat with the -poker on his knees thoughtfully raking out the ashes between the -lower bars, my sister would so distinctly construe that innocent -action into opposition on his part, that she would dive at him, -take the poker out of his hands, shake him, and put it away. There -was a most irritating end to every one of these debates. All in a -moment, with nothing to lead up to it, my sister would stop herself -in a yawn, and catching sight of me as it were incidentally, would -swoop upon me with, "Come there's enough of you You get along to -bed you've given trouble enough for one night, I hope" As if I -had besought them as a favour to bother my life out. -We went on in this way for a long time, and it seemed likely that -we should continue to go on in this way for a long time, when, one -day, Miss Havisham stopped short as she and I were walking, she -leaning on my shoulder and said with some displeasure -"You are growing tall, Pip" -I thought it best to hint, through the medium of a meditative look, -that this might be occasioned by circumstances over which I had no -control. -She said no more at the time but, she presently stopped and looked -at me again and presently again and after that, looked frowning -and moody. On the next day of my attendance when our usual exercise -was over, and I had landed her at her dressingtable, she stayed me -with a movement of her impatient fingers -"Tell me the name again of that blacksmith of yours." -"Joe Gargery, ma'am." -"Meaning the master you were to be apprenticed to?" -"Yes, Miss Havisham." -"You had better be apprenticed at once. Would Gargery come here -with you, and bring your indentures, do you think?" -I signified that I had no doubt he would take it as an honour to be -asked. -"Then let him come." -"At any particular time, Miss Havisham?" -"There, there I know nothing about times. Let him come soon, and -come along with you." -When I got home at night, and delivered this message for Joe, my -sister "went on the Rampage," in a more alarming degree than at any -previous period. She asked me and Joe whether we supposed she was -doormats under our feet, and how we dared to use her so, and what -company we graciously thought she was fit for? When she had -exhausted a torrent of such inquiries, she threw a candlestick at -Joe, burst into a loud sobbing, got out the dustpan which was -always a very bad sign put on her coarse apron, and began -cleaning up to a terrible extent. Not satisfied with a dry -cleaning, she took to a pail and scrubbingbrush, and cleaned us -out of house and home, so that we stood shivering in the backyard. -It was ten o'clock at night before we ventured to creep in again, -and then she asked Joe why he hadn't married a Negress Slave at -once? Joe offered no answer, poor fellow, but stood feeling his -whisker and looking dejectedly at me, as if he thought it really -might have been a better speculation. -Chapter -It was a trial to my feelings, on the next day but one, to see Joe -arraying himself in his Sunday clothes to accompany me to Miss -Havisham's. However, as he thought his courtsuit necessary to the -occasion, it was not for me tell him that he looked far better in -his working dress the rather, because I knew he made himself so -dreadfully uncomfortable, entirely on my account, and that it was -for me he pulled up his shirtcollar so very high behind, that it -made the hair on the crown of his head stand up like a tuft of -feathers. -At breakfast time my sister declared her intention of going to town -with us, and being left at Uncle Pumblechook's and called for "when -we had done with our fine ladies" a way of putting the case, from -which Joe appeared inclined to augur the worst. The forge was shut -up for the day, and Joe inscribed in chalk upon the door as it was -his custom to do on the very rare occasions when he was not at -work the monosyllable HOUT, accompanied by a sketch of an arrow -supposed to be flying in the direction he had taken. -We walked to town, my sister leading the way in a very large beaver -bonnet, and carrying a basket like the Great Seal of England in -plaited straw, a pair of pattens, a spare shawl, and an umbrella, -though it was a fine bright day. I am not quite clear whether these -articles were carried penitentially or ostentatiously but, I -rather think they were displayed as articles of property much as -Cleopatra or any other sovereign lady on the Rampage might exhibit -her wealth in a pageant or procession. -When we came to Pumblechook's, my sister bounced in and left us. As -it was almost noon, Joe and I held straight on to Miss Havisham's -house. Estella opened the gate as usual, and, the moment she -appeared, Joe took his hat off and stood weighing it by the brim in -both his hands as if he had some urgent reason in his mind for -being particular to half a quarter of an ounce. -Estella took no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I -knew so well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I -looked back at Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his -hat with the greatest care, and was coming after us in long strides -on the tips of his toes. -Estella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the -coatcuff and conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was -seated at her dressingtable, and looked round at us immediately. -"Oh" said she to Joe. "You are the husband of the sister of this -boy?" -I could hardly have imagined dear old Joe looking so unlike himself -or so like some extraordinary bird standing, as he did, -speechless, with his tuft of feathers ruffled, and his mouth open, -as if he wanted a worm. -"You are the husband," repeated Miss Havisham, "of the sister of -this boy?" -It was very aggravating but, throughout the interview Joe -persisted in addressing Me instead of Miss Havisham. -"Which I meantersay, Pip," Joe now observed in a manner that was at -once expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and -great politeness, "as I hup and married your sister, and I were at -the time what you might call if you was anyways inclined a single -man." -"Well" said Miss Havisham. "And you have reared the boy, with the -intention of taking him for your apprentice is that so, Mr. -Gargery?" -"You know, Pip," replied Joe, "as you and me were ever friends, and -it were looked for'ard to betwixt us, as being calc'lated to lead -to larks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the -business such as its being open to black and sut, or suchlike -not but what they would have been attended to, don't you see?" -"Has the boy," said Miss Havisham, "ever made any objection? Does -he like the trade?" -"Which it is well beknown to yourself, Pip," returned Joe, -strengthening his former mixture of argumentation, confidence, and -politeness, "that it were the wish of your own hart." I saw the -idea suddenly break upon him that he would adapt his epitaph to the -occasion, before he went on to say "And there weren't no objection -on your part, and Pip it were the great wish of your heart" -It was quite in vain for me to endeavour to make him sensible that -he ought to speak to Miss Havisham. The more I made faces and -gestures to him to do it, the more confidential, argumentative, and -polite, he persisted in being to Me. -"Have you brought his indentures with you?" asked Miss Havisham. -"Well, Pip, you know," replied Joe, as if that were a little -unreasonable, "you yourself see me put 'em in my 'at, and therefore -you know as they are here." With which he took them out, and gave -them, not to Miss Havisham, but to me. I am afraid I was ashamed of -the dear good fellow I know I was ashamed of him when I saw -that Estella stood at the back of Miss Havisham's chair, and that -her eyes laughed mischievously. I took the indentures out of his -hand and gave them to Miss Havisham. -"You expected," said Miss Havisham, as she looked them over, "no -premium with the boy?" -"Joe" I remonstrated for he made no reply at all. "Why don't you -answer" -"Pip," returned Joe, cutting me short as if he were hurt, "which I -meantersay that were not a question requiring a answer betwixt -yourself and me, and which you know the answer to be full well No. -You know it to be No, Pip, and wherefore should I say it?" -Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she understood what he really -was, better than I had thought possible, seeing what he was there -and took up a little bag from the table beside her. -"Pip has earned a premium here," she said, "and here it is. There -are fiveandtwenty guineas in this bag. Give it to your master, -Pip." -As if he were absolutely out of his mind with the wonder awakened -in him by her strange figure and the strange room, Joe, even at -this pass, persisted in addressing me. -"This is wery liberal on your part, Pip," said Joe, "and it is as -such received and grateful welcome, though never looked for, far -nor near nor nowheres. And now, old chap," said Joe, conveying to -me a sensation, first of burning and then of freezing, for I felt -as if that familiar expression were applied to Miss Havisham "and -now, old chap, may we do our duty May you and me do our duty, both -on us by one and another, and by them which your liberal present -have conweyed to be for the satisfaction of mind of them -as never" here Joe showed that he felt he had fallen into -frightful difficulties, until he triumphantly rescued himself with -the words, "and from myself far be it" These words had such a -round and convincing sound for him that he said them twice. -"Goodbye, Pip" said Miss Havisham. "Let them out, Estella." -"Am I to come again, Miss Havisham?" I asked. -"No. Gargery is your master now. Gargery One word" -Thus calling him back as I went out of the door, I heard her say to -Joe, in a distinct emphatic voice, "The boy has been a good boy -here, and that is his reward. Of course, as an honest man, you will -expect no other and no more." -How Joe got out of the room, I have never been able to determine -but, I know that when he did get out he was steadily proceeding -upstairs instead of coming down, and was deaf to all remonstrances -until I went after him and laid hold of him. In another minute we -were outside the gate, and it was locked, and Estella was gone. -When we stood in the daylight alone again, Joe backed up against a -wall, and said to me, "Astonishing" And there he remained so long, -saying "Astonishing" at intervals, so often, that I began to think -his senses were never coming back. At length he prolonged his -remark into "Pip, I do assure you this is asTONishing" and so, by -degrees, became conversational and able to walk away. -I have reason to think that Joe's intellects were brightened by the -encounter they had passed through, and that on our way to -Pumblechook's he invented a subtle and deep design. My reason is to -be found in what took place in Mr. Pumblechook's parlour where, on -our presenting ourselves, my sister sat in conference with that -detested seedsman. -"Well?" cried my sister, addressing us both at once. "And what's -happened to you? I wonder you condescend to come back to such poor -society as this, I am sure I do" -"Miss Havisham," said Joe, with a fixed look at me, like an effort -of remembrance, "made it wery partick'ler that we should give her -were it compliments or respects, Pip?" -"Compliments," I said. -"Which that were my own belief," answered Joe "her compliments to -Mrs. J. Gargery" -"Much good they'll do me" observed my sister but rather gratified -too. -"And wishing," pursued Joe, with another fixed look at me, like -another effort of remembrance, "that the state of Miss Havisham's -elth were sitch as would have allowed, were it, Pip?" -"Of her having the pleasure," I added. -"Of ladies' company," said Joe. And drew a long breath. -"Well" cried my sister, with a mollified glance at Mr. Pumblechook. -"She might have had the politeness to send that message at first, -but it's better late than never. And what did she give young -Rantipole here?" -"She giv' him," said Joe, "nothing." -Mrs. Joe was going to break out, but Joe went on. -"What she giv'," said Joe, "she giv' to his friends. 'And by his -friends,' were her explanation, 'I mean into the hands of his -sister Mrs. J. Gargery.' Them were her words 'Mrs. J. Gargery.' She -mayn't have know'd," added Joe, with an appearance of reflection, -"whether it were Joe, or Jorge." -My sister looked at Pumblechook who smoothed the elbows of his -wooden armchair, and nodded at her and at the fire, as if he had -known all about it beforehand. -"And how much have you got?" asked my sister, laughing. Positively, -laughing -"What would present company say to ten pound?" demanded Joe. -"They'd say," returned my sister, curtly, "pretty well. Not too -much, but pretty well." -"It's more than that, then," said Joe. -That fearful Impostor, Pumblechook, immediately nodded, and said, -as he rubbed the arms of his chair "It's more than that, Mum." -"Why, you don't mean to say" began my sister. -"Yes I do, Mum," said Pumblechook "but wait a bit. Go on, Joseph. -Good in you Go on" -"What would present company say," proceeded Joe, "to twenty pound?" -"Handsome would be the word," returned my sister. -"Well, then," said Joe, "It's more than twenty pound." -That abject hypocrite, Pumblechook, nodded again, and said, with a -patronizing laugh, "It's more than that, Mum. Good again Follow her -up, Joseph" -"Then to make an end of it," said Joe, delightedly handing the bag -to my sister "it's fiveandtwenty pound." -"It's fiveandtwenty pound, Mum," echoed that basest of swindlers, -Pumblechook, rising to shake hands with her "and it's no more than -your merits as I said when my opinion was asked, and I wish you -joy of the money" -If the villain had stopped here, his case would have been -sufficiently awful, but he blackened his guilt by proceeding to -take me into custody, with a right of patronage that left all his -former criminality far behind. -"Now you see, Joseph and wife," said Pumblechook, as he took me by -the arm above the elbow, "I am one of them that always go right -through with what they've begun. This boy must be bound, out of -hand. That's my way. Bound out of hand." -"Goodness knows, Uncle Pumblechook," said my sister grasping the -money, "we're deeply beholden to you." -"Never mind me, Mum," returned that diabolical cornchandler. "A -pleasure's a pleasure, all the world over. But this boy, you know -we must have him bound. I said I'd see to it to tell you the -truth." -The Justices were sitting in the Town Hall near at hand, and we at -once went over to have me bound apprentice to Joe in the -Magisterial presence. I say, we went over, but I was pushed over by -Pumblechook, exactly as if I had that moment picked a pocket or -fired a rick indeed, it was the general impression in Court that I -had been taken redhanded, for, as Pumblechook shoved me before him -through the crowd, I heard some people say, "What's he done?" and -others, "He's a young 'un, too, but looks bad, don't he?" One person -of mild and benevolent aspect even gave me a tract ornamented with -a woodcut of a malevolent young man fitted up with a perfect -sausageshop of fetters, and entitled, TO BE READ IN MY CELL. -The Hall was a queer place, I thought, with higher pews in it than -a church and with people hanging over the pews looking on and -with mighty Justices one with a powdered head leaning back in -chairs, with folded arms, or taking snuff, or going to sleep, or -writing, or reading the newspapers and with some shining black -portraits on the walls, which my unartistic eye regarded as a -composition of hardbake and stickingplaister. Here, in a corner, -my indentures were duly signed and attested, and I was "bound" Mr. -Pumblechook holding me all the while as if we had looked in on our -way to the scaffold, to have those little preliminaries disposed -of. -When we had come out again, and had got rid of the boys who had -been put into great spirits by the expectation of seeing me -publicly tortured, and who were much disappointed to find that my -friends were merely rallying round me, we went back to -Pumblechook's. And there my sister became so excited by the -twentyfive guineas, that nothing would serve her but we must have -a dinner out of that windfall, at the Blue Boar, and that -Pumblechook must go over in his chaisecart, and bring the Hubbles -and Mr. Wopsle. -It was agreed to be done and a most melancholy day I passed. For, -it inscrutably appeared to stand to reason, in the minds of the -whole company, that I was an excrescence on the entertainment. And -to make it worse, they all asked me from time to time in short, -whenever they had nothing else to do why I didn't enjoy myself. -And what could I possibly do then, but say I was enjoying myself -when I wasn't? -However, they were grown up and had their own way, and they made -the most of it. That swindling Pumblechook, exalted into the -beneficent contriver of the whole occasion, actually took the top -of the table and, when he addressed them on the subject of my -being bound, and had fiendishly congratulated them on my being -liable to imprisonment if I played at cards, drank strong liquors, -kept late hours or bad company, or indulged in other vagaries which -the form of my indentures appeared to contemplate as next to -inevitable, he placed me standing on a chair beside him, to -illustrate his remarks. -My only other remembrances of the great festival are, That they -wouldn't let me go to sleep, but whenever they saw me dropping off, -woke me up and told me to enjoy myself. That, rather late in the -evening Mr. Wopsle gave us Collins's ode, and threw his bloodstain'd -sword in thunder down, with such effect, that a waiter came in and -said, "The Commercials underneath sent up their compliments, and it -wasn't the Tumblers' Arms." That, they were all in excellent -spirits on the road home, and sang O Lady Fair Mr. Wopsle taking -the bass, and asserting with a tremendously strong voice in reply -to the inquisitive bore who leads that piece of music in a most -impertinent manner, by wanting to know all about everybody's -private affairs that he was the man with his white locks flowing, -and that he was upon the whole the weakest pilgrim going. -Finally, I remember that when I got into my little bedroom I was -truly wretched, and had a strong conviction on me that I should -never like Joe's trade. I had liked it once, but once was not now. -Chapter -It is a most miserable thing to feel ashamed of home. There may be -black ingratitude in the thing, and the punishment may be -retributive and well deserved but, that it is a miserable thing, I -can testify. -Home had never been a very pleasant place to me, because of my -sister's temper. But, Joe had sanctified it, and I had believed in -it. I had believed in the best parlour as a most elegant saloon I -had believed in the front door, as a mysterious portal of the -Temple of State whose solemn opening was attended with a sacrifice -of roast fowls I had believed in the kitchen as a chaste though -not magnificent apartment I had believed in the forge as the -glowing road to manhood and independence. Within a single year, all -this was changed. Now, it was all coarse and common, and I would -not have had Miss Havisham and Estella see it on any account. -How much of my ungracious condition of mind may have been my own -fault, how much Miss Havisham's, how much my sister's, is now of no -moment to me or to any one. The change was made in me the thing -was done. Well or ill done, excusably or inexcusably, it was done. -Once, it had seemed to me that when I should at last roll up my -shirtsleeves and go into the forge, Joe's 'prentice, I should be -distinguished and happy. Now the reality was in my hold, I only -felt that I was dusty with the dust of small coal, and that I had a -weight upon my daily remembrance to which the anvil was a feather. -There have been occasions in my later life I suppose as in most -lives when I have felt for a time as if a thick curtain had fallen -on all its interest and romance, to shut me out from anything save -dull endurance any more. Never has that curtain dropped so heavy -and blank, as when my way in life lay stretched out straight before -me through the newlyentered road of apprenticeship to Joe. -I remember that at a later period of my "time," I used to stand -about the churchyard on Sunday evenings when night was falling, -comparing my own perspective with the windy marsh view, and making -out some likeness between them by thinking how flat and low both -were, and how on both there came an unknown way and a dark mist and -then the sea. I was quite as dejected on the first workingday of -my apprenticeship as in that aftertime but I am glad to know that -I never breathed a murmur to Joe while my indentures lasted. It is -about the only thing I am glad to know of myself in that -connection. -For, though it includes what I proceed to add, all the merit of -what I proceed to add was Joe's. It was not because I was faithful, -but because Joe was faithful, that I never ran away and went for a -soldier or a sailor. It was not because I had a strong sense of the -virtue of industry, but because Joe had a strong sense of the -virtue of industry, that I worked with tolerable zeal against the -grain. It is not possible to know how far the influence of any -amiable honesthearted dutydoing man flies out into the world but -it is very possible to know how it has touched one's self in going -by, and I know right well, that any good that intermixed itself -with my apprenticeship came of plain contented Joe, and not of -restlessly aspiring discontented me. -What I wanted, who can say? How can I say, when I never knew? What -I dreaded was, that in some unlucky hour I, being at my grimiest -and commonest, should lift up my eyes and see Estella looking in at -one of the wooden windows of the forge. I was haunted by the fear -that she would, sooner or later, find me out, with a black face and -hands, doing the coarsest part of my work, and would exult over me -and despise me. Often after dark, when I was pulling the bellows -for Joe, and we were singing Old Clem, and when the thought how we -used to sing it at Miss Havisham's would seem to show me Estella's -face in the fire, with her pretty hair fluttering in the wind and -her eyes scorning me, often at such a time I would look towards -those panels of black night in the wall which the wooden windows -then were, and would fancy that I saw her just drawing her face -away, and would believe that she had come at last. -After that, when we went in to supper, the place and the meal would -have a more homely look than ever, and I would feel more ashamed of -home than ever, in my own ungracious breast. -Chapter -As I was getting too big for Mr. Wopsle's greataunt's room, my -education under that preposterous female terminated. Not, however, -until Biddy had imparted to me everything she knew, from the little -catalogue of prices, to a comic song she had once bought for a -halfpenny. Although the only coherent part of the latter piece of -literature were the opening lines, -When I went to Lunnon town sirs, Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul -Wasn't I done very brown sirs? Too rul loo rul Too rul loo rul -still, in my desire to be wiser, I got this composition by heart -with the utmost gravity nor do I recollect that I questioned its -merit, except that I thought as I still do the amount of Too rul -somewhat in excess of the poetry. In my hunger for information, I -made proposals to Mr. Wopsle to bestow some intellectual crumbs upon -me with which he kindly complied. As it turned out, however, that -he only wanted me for a dramatic layfigure, to be contradicted and -embraced and wept over and bullied and clutched and stabbed and -knocked about in a variety of ways, I soon declined that course of -instruction though not until Mr. Wopsle in his poetic fury had -severely mauled me. -Whatever I acquired, I tried to impart to Joe. This statement -sounds so well, that I cannot in my conscience let it pass -unexplained. I wanted to make Joe less ignorant and common, that he -might be worthier of my society and less open to Estella's -reproach. -The old Battery out on the marshes was our place of study, and a -broken slate and a short piece of slate pencil were our educational -implements to which Joe always added a pipe of tobacco. I never -knew Joe to remember anything from one Sunday to another, or to -acquire, under my tuition, any piece of information whatever. Yet -he would smoke his pipe at the Battery with a far more sagacious -air than anywhere else even with a learned air as if he -considered himself to be advancing immensely. Dear fellow, I hope -he did. -It was pleasant and quiet, out there with the sails on the river -passing beyond the earthwork, and sometimes, when the tide was low, -looking as if they belonged to sunken ships that were still sailing -on at the bottom of the water. Whenever I watched the vessels -standing out to sea with their white sails spread, I somehow -thought of Miss Havisham and Estella and whenever the light struck -aslant, afar off, upon a cloud or sail or green hillside or -waterline, it was just the same. Miss Havisham and Estella and -the strange house and the strange life appeared to have something -to do with everything that was picturesque. -One Sunday when Joe, greatly enjoying his pipe, had so plumed -himself on being "most awful dull," that I had given him up for the -day, I lay on the earthwork for some time with my chin on my hand, -descrying traces of Miss Havisham and Estella all over the -prospect, in the sky and in the water, until at last I resolved to -mention a thought concerning them that had been much in my head. -"Joe," said I "don't you think I ought to make Miss Havisham a -visit?" -"Well, Pip," returned Joe, slowly considering. "What for?" -"What for, Joe? What is any visit made for?" -"There is some wisits, p'r'aps," said Joe, "as for ever remains -open to the question, Pip. But in regard to wisiting Miss Havisham. -She might think you wanted something expected something of her." -"Don't you think I might say that I did not, Joe?" -"You might, old chap," said Joe. "And she might credit it. -Similarly she mightn't." -Joe felt, as I did, that he had made a point there, and he pulled -hard at his pipe to keep himself from weakening it by repetition. -"You see, Pip," Joe pursued, as soon as he was past that danger, -"Miss Havisham done the handsome thing by you. When Miss Havisham -done the handsome thing by you, she called me back to say to me as -that were all." -"Yes, Joe. I heard her." -"ALL," Joe repeated, very emphatically. -"Yes, Joe. I tell you, I heard her." -"Which I meantersay, Pip, it might be that her meaning were Make -a end on it As you was Me to the North, and you to the South -Keep in sunders" -I had thought of that too, and it was very far from comforting to -me to find that he had thought of it for it seemed to render it -more probable. -"But, Joe." -"Yes, old chap." -"Here am I, getting on in the first year of my time, and, since the -day of my being bound, I have never thanked Miss Havisham, or asked -after her, or shown that I remember her." -"That's true, Pip and unless you was to turn her out a set of -shoes all four round and which I meantersay as even a set of -shoes all four round might not be acceptable as a present, in a -total wacancy of hoofs" -"I don't mean that sort of remembrance, Joe I don't mean a -present." -But Joe had got the idea of a present in his head and must harp -upon it. "Or even," said he, "if you was helped to knocking her up -a new chain for the front door or say a gross or two of -sharkheaded screws for general use or some light fancy article, -such as a toastingfork when she took her muffins or a gridiron -when she took a sprat or such like" -"I don't mean any present at all, Joe," I interposed. -"Well," said Joe, still harping on it as though I had particularly -pressed it, "if I was yourself, Pip, I wouldn't. No, I would not. -For what's a doorchain when she's got one always up? And -sharkheaders is open to misrepresentations. And if it was a -toastingfork, you'd go into brass and do yourself no credit. And -the oncommonest workman can't show himself oncommon in a gridiron -for a gridiron IS a gridiron," said Joe, steadfastly impressing it -upon me, as if he were endeavouring to rouse me from a fixed -delusion, "and you may haim at what you like, but a gridiron it -will come out, either by your leave or again your leave, and you -can't help yourself" -"My dear Joe," I cried, in desperation, taking hold of his coat, -"don't go on in that way. I never thought of making Miss Havisham -any present." -"No, Pip," Joe assented, as if he had been contending for that, all -along "and what I say to you is, you are right, Pip." -"Yes, Joe but what I wanted to say, was, that as we are rather -slack just now, if you would give me a halfholiday tomorrow, I -think I would go uptown and make a call on Miss Est Havisham." -"Which her name," said Joe, gravely, "ain't Estavisham, Pip, unless -she have been rechris'ened." -"I know, Joe, I know. It was a slip of mine. What do you think of -it, Joe?" -In brief, Joe thought that if I thought well of it, he thought well -of it. But, he was particular in stipulating that if I were not -received with cordiality, or if I were not encouraged to repeat my -visit as a visit which had no ulterior object but was simply one of -gratitude for a favour received, then this experimental trip should -have no successor. By these conditions I promised to abide. -Now, Joe kept a journeyman at weekly wages whose name was Orlick. -He pretended that his Christian name was Dolge a clear -impossibility but he was a fellow of that obstinate disposition -that I believe him to have been the prey of no delusion in this -particular, but wilfully to have imposed that name upon the village -as an affront to its understanding. He was a broadshouldered -looselimbed swarthy fellow of great strength, never in a hurry, -and always slouching. He never even seemed to come to his work on -purpose, but would slouch in as if by mere accident and when he -went to the Jolly Bargemen to eat his dinner, or went away at -night, he would slouch out, like Cain or the Wandering Jew, as if -he had no idea where he was going and no intention of ever coming -back. He lodged at a sluicekeeper's out on the marshes, and on -working days would come slouching from his hermitage, with his -hands in his pockets and his dinner loosely tied in a bundle round -his neck and dangling on his back. On Sundays he mostly lay all day -on the sluicegates, or stood against ricks and barns. He always -slouched, locomotively, with his eyes on the ground and, when -accosted or otherwise required to raise them, he looked up in a -half resentful, half puzzled way, as though the only thought he -ever had, was, that it was rather an odd and injurious fact that he -should never be thinking. -This morose journeyman had no liking for me. When I was very small -and timid, he gave me to understand that the Devil lived in a black -corner of the forge, and that he knew the fiend very well also -that it was necessary to make up the fire, once in seven years, -with a live boy, and that I might consider myself fuel. When I -became Joe's 'prentice, Orlick was perhaps confirmed in some -suspicion that I should displace him howbeit, he liked me still -less. Not that he ever said anything, or did anything, openly -importing hostility I only noticed that he always beat his sparks -in my direction, and that whenever I sang Old Clem, he came in out -of time. -Dolge Orlick was at work and present, next day, when I reminded Joe -of my halfholiday. He said nothing at the moment, for he and Joe -had just got a piece of hot iron between them, and I was at the -bellows but byandby he said, leaning on his hammer -"Now, master Sure you're not agoing to favour only one of us. If -Young Pip has a halfholiday, do as much for Old Orlick." I suppose -he was about fiveandtwenty, but he usually spoke of himself as an -ancient person. -"Why, what'll you do with a halfholiday, if you get it?" said Joe. -"What'll I do with it What'll he do with it? I'll do as much with -it as him," said Orlick. -"As to Pip, he's going uptown," said Joe. -"Well then, as to Old Orlick, he's agoing uptown," retorted that -worthy. "Two can go uptown. Tan't only one wot can go uptown. -"Don't lose your temper," said Joe. -"Shall if I like," growled Orlick. "Some and their uptowning Now, -master Come. No favouring in this shop. Be a man" -The master refusing to entertain the subject until the journeyman -was in a better temper, Orlick plunged at the furnace, drew out a -redhot bar, made at me with it as if he were going to run it -through my body, whisked it round my head, laid it on the anvil, -hammered it out as if it were I, I thought, and the sparks were -my spirting blood and finally said, when he had hammered himself -hot and the iron cold, and he again leaned on his hammer -"Now, master" -"Are you all right now?" demanded Joe. -"Ah I am all right," said gruff Old Orlick. -"Then, as in general you stick to your work as well as most men," -said Joe, "let it be a halfholiday for all." -My sister had been standing silent in the yard, within hearing -she was a most unscrupulous spy and listener and she instantly -looked in at one of the windows. -"Like you, you fool" said she to Joe, "giving holidays to great -idle hulkers like that. You are a rich man, upon my life, to waste -wages in that way. I wish I was his master" -"You'd be everybody's master, if you durst," retorted Orlick, with -an illfavoured grin. -"Let her alone," said Joe. -"I'd be a match for all noodles and all rogues," returned my -sister, beginning to work herself into a mighty rage. "And I -couldn't be a match for the noodles, without being a match for your -master, who's the dunderheaded king of the noodles. And I couldn't -be a match for the rogues, without being a match for you, who are -the blackestlooking and the worst rogue between this and France. -Now" -"You're a foul shrew, Mother Gargery," growled the journeyman. -"If that makes a judge of rogues, you ought to be a good'un." -"Let her alone, will you?" said Joe. -"What did you say?" cried my sister, beginning to scream. "What did -you say? What did that fellow Orlick say to me, Pip? What did he -call me, with my husband standing by? O O O" Each of these -exclamations was a shriek and I must remark of my sister, what is -equally true of all the violent women I have ever seen, that -passion was no excuse for her, because it is undeniable that -instead of lapsing into passion, she consciously and deliberately -took extraordinary pains to force herself into it, and became -blindly furious by regular stages "what was the name he gave me -before the base man who swore to defend me? O Hold me O" -"Ahhh" growled the journeyman, between his teeth, "I'd hold you, -if you was my wife. I'd hold you under the pump, and choke it out -of you." -"I tell you, let her alone," said Joe. -"Oh To hear him" cried my sister, with a clap of her hands and a -scream together which was her next stage. "To hear the names he's -giving me That Orlick In my own house Me, a married woman With -my husband standing by O O" Here my sister, after a fit of -clappings and screamings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon -her knees, and threw her cap off, and pulled her hair down which -were the last stages on her road to frenzy. Being by this time a -perfect Fury and a complete success, she made a dash at the door, -which I had fortunately locked. -What could the wretched Joe do now, after his disregarded -parenthetical interruptions, but stand up to his journeyman, and -ask him what he meant by interfering betwixt himself and Mrs. Joe -and further whether he was man enough to come on? Old Orlick felt -that the situation admitted of nothing less than coming on, and was -on his defence straightway so, without so much as pulling off -their singed and burnt aprons, they went at one another, like two -giants. But, if any man in that neighbourhood could stand up long -against Joe, I never saw the man. Orlick, as if he had been of no -more account than the pale young gentleman, was very soon among the -coaldust, and in no hurry to come out of it. Then, Joe unlocked -the door and picked up my sister, who had dropped insensible at the -window but who had seen the fight first, I think, and who was -carried into the house and laid down, and who was recommended to -revive, and would do nothing but struggle and clench her hands in -Joe's hair. Then, came that singular calm and silence which succeed -all uproars and then, with the vague sensation which I have always -connected with such a lull namely, that it was Sunday, and -somebody was dead I went upstairs to dress myself. -When I came down again, I found Joe and Orlick sweeping up, without -any other traces of discomposure than a slit in one of Orlick's -nostrils, which was neither expressive nor ornamental. A pot of -beer had appeared from the Jolly Bargemen, and they were sharing it -by turns in a peaceable manner. The lull had a sedative and -philosophical influence on Joe, who followed me out into the road -to say, as a parting observation that might do me good, "On the -Rampage, Pip, and off the Rampage, Pip such is Life" -With what absurd emotions for, we think the feelings that are very -serious in a man quite comical in a boy I found myself again going -to Miss Havisham's, matters little here. Nor, how I passed and -repassed the gate many times before I could make up my mind to -ring. Nor, how I debated whether I should go away without ringing -nor, how I should undoubtedly have gone, if my time had been my -own, to come back. -Miss Sarah Pocket came to the gate. No Estella. -"How, then? You here again?" said Miss Pocket. "What do you want?" -When I said that I only came to see how Miss Havisham was, Sarah -evidently deliberated whether or no she should send me about my -business. But, unwilling to hazard the responsibility, she let me -in, and presently brought the sharp message that I was to "come -up." -Everything was unchanged, and Miss Havisham was alone. -"Well?" said she, fixing her eyes upon me. "I hope you want -nothing? You'll get nothing." -"No, indeed, Miss Havisham. I only wanted you to know that I am -doing very well in my apprenticeship, and am always much obliged to -you." -"There, there" with the old restless fingers. "Come now and then -come on your birthday. Ay" she cried suddenly, turning herself -and her chair towards me, "You are looking round for Estella? Hey?" -I had been looking round in fact, for Estella and I stammered -that I hoped she was well. -"Abroad," said Miss Havisham "educating for a lady far out of -reach prettier than ever admired by all who see her. Do you feel -that you have lost her?" -There was such a malignant enjoyment in her utterance of the last -words, and she broke into such a disagreeable laugh, that I was at -a loss what to say. She spared me the trouble of considering, by -dismissing me. When the gate was closed upon me by Sarah of the -walnutshell countenance, I felt more than ever dissatisfied with -my home and with my trade and with everything and that was all I -took by that motion. -As I was loitering along the Highstreet, looking in disconsolately -at the shop windows, and thinking what I would buy if I were a -gentleman, who should come out of the bookshop but Mr. Wopsle. Mr -Wopsle had in his hand the affecting tragedy of George Barnwell, in -which he had that moment invested sixpence, with the view of -heaping every word of it on the head of Pumblechook, with whom he -was going to drink tea. No sooner did he see me, than he appeared -to consider that a special Providence had put a 'prentice in his -way to be read at and he laid hold of me, and insisted on my -accompanying him to the Pumblechookian parlour. As I knew it would -be miserable at home, and as the nights were dark and the way was -dreary, and almost any companionship on the road was better than -none, I made no great resistance consequently, we turned into -Pumblechook's just as the street and the shops were lighting up. -As I never assisted at any other representation of George Barnwell, -I don't know how long it may usually take but I know very well -that it took until halfpast nine o' clock that night, and that -when Mr. Wopsle got into Newgate, I thought he never would go to the -scaffold, he became so much slower than at any former period of his -disgraceful career. I thought it a little too much that he should -complain of being cut short in his flower after all, as if he had -not been running to seed, leaf after leaf, ever since his course -began. This, however, was a mere question of length and -wearisomeness. What stung me, was the identification of the whole -affair with my unoffending self. When Barnwell began to go wrong, I -declare that I felt positively apologetic, Pumblechook's indignant -stare so taxed me with it. Wopsle, too, took pains to present me in -the worst light. At once ferocious and maudlin, I was made to -murder my uncle with no extenuating circumstances whatever -Millwood put me down in argument, on every occasion it became -sheer monomania in my master's daughter to care a button for me -and all I can say for my gasping and procrastinating conduct on the -fatal morning, is, that it was worthy of the general feebleness of -my character. Even after I was happily hanged and Wopsle had closed -the book, Pumblechook sat staring at me, and shaking his head, and -saying, "Take warning, boy, take warning" as if it were a -wellknown fact that I contemplated murdering a near relation, -provided I could only induce one to have the weakness to become my -benefactor. -It was a very dark night when it was all over, and when I set out -with Mr. Wopsle on the walk home. Beyond town, we found a heavy -mist out, and it fell wet and thick. The turnpike lamp was a blur, -quite out of the lamp's usual place apparently, and its rays looked -solid substance on the fog. We were noticing this, and saying how -that the mist rose with a change of wind from a certain quarter of -our marshes, when we came upon a man, slouching under the lee of -the turnpike house. -"Halloa" we said, stopping. "Orlick, there?" -"Ah" he answered, slouching out. "I was standing by, a minute, on -the chance of company." -"You are late," I remarked. -Orlick not unnaturally answered, "Well? And you're late." -"We have been," said Mr. Wopsle, exalted with his late performance, -"we have been indulging, Mr. Orlick, in an intellectual evening." -Old Orlick growled, as if he had nothing to say about that, and we -all went on together. I asked him presently whether he had been -spending his halfholiday up and down town? -"Yes," said he, "all of it. I come in behind yourself. I didn't see -you, but I must have been pretty close behind you. Bythebye, the -guns is going again." -"At the Hulks?" said I. -"Ay There's some of the birds flown from the cages. The guns have -been going since dark, about. You'll hear one presently." -In effect, we had not walked many yards further, when the -wellremembered boom came towards us, deadened by the mist, and -heavily rolled away along the low grounds by the river, as if it -were pursuing and threatening the fugitives. -"A good night for cutting off in," said Orlick. "We'd be puzzled -how to bring down a jailbird on the wing, tonight." -The subject was a suggestive one to me, and I thought about it in -silence. Mr. Wopsle, as the illrequited uncle of the evening's -tragedy, fell to meditating aloud in his garden at Camberwell. -Orlick, with his hands in his pockets, slouched heavily at my side. -It was very dark, very wet, very muddy, and so we splashed along. -Now and then, the sound of the signal cannon broke upon us again, -and again rolled sulkily along the course of the river. I kept -myself to myself and my thoughts. Mr. Wopsle died amiably at -Camberwell, and exceedingly game on Bosworth Field, and in the -greatest agonies at Glastonbury. Orlick sometimes growled, "Beat it -out, beat it out Old Clem With a clink for the stout Old -Clem" I thought he had been drinking, but he was not drunk. -Thus, we came to the village. The way by which we approached it, -took us past the Three Jolly Bargemen, which we were surprised to -find it being eleven o'clock in a state of commotion, with the -door wide open, and unwonted lights that had been hastily caught up -and put down, scattered about. Mr. Wopsle dropped in to ask what was -the matter surmising that a convict had been taken, but came -running out in a great hurry. -"There's something wrong," said he, without stopping, "up at your -place, Pip. Run all" -"What is it?" I asked, keeping up with him. So did Orlick, at my -side. -"I can't quite understand. The house seems to have been violently -entered when Joe Gargery was out. Supposed by convicts. Somebody -has been attacked and hurt." -We were running too fast to admit of more being said, and we made -no stop until we got into our kitchen. It was full of people the -whole village was there, or in the yard and there was a surgeon, -and there was Joe, and there was a group of women, all on the floor -in the midst of the kitchen. The unemployed bystanders drew back -when they saw me, and so I became aware of my sister lying -without sense or movement on the bare boards where she had been -knocked down by a tremendous blow on the back of the head, dealt by -some unknown hand when her face was turned towards the fire -destined never to be on the Rampage again, while she was the wife -of Joe. -Chapter -With my head full of George Barnwell, I was at first disposed to -believe that I must have had some hand in the attack upon my -sister, or at all events that as her near relation, popularly known -to be under obligations to her, I was a more legitimate object of -suspicion than any one else. But when, in the clearer light of next -morning, I began to reconsider the matter and to hear it discussed -around me on all sides, I took another view of the case, which was -more reasonable. -Joe had been at the Three Jolly Bargemen, smoking his pipe, from a -quarter after eight o'clock to a quarter before ten. While he was -there, my sister had been seen standing at the kitchen door, and -had exchanged Good Night with a farmlabourer going home. The man -could not be more particular as to the time at which he saw her he -got into dense confusion when he tried to be, than that it must -have been before nine. When Joe went home at five minutes before -ten, he found her struck down on the floor, and promptly called in -assistance. The fire had not then burnt unusually low, nor was the -snuff of the candle very long the candle, however, had been blown -out. -Nothing had been taken away from any part of the house. Neither, -beyond the blowing out of the candle which stood on a table -between the door and my sister, and was behind her when she stood -facing the fire and was struck was there any disarrangement of -the kitchen, excepting such as she herself had made, in falling and -bleeding. But, there was one remarkable piece of evidence on the -spot. She had been struck with something blunt and heavy, on the -head and spine after the blows were dealt, something heavy had -been thrown down at her with considerable violence, as she lay on -her face. And on the ground beside her, when Joe picked her up, was -a convict's legiron which had been filed asunder. -Now, Joe, examining this iron with a smith's eye, declared it to -have been filed asunder some time ago. The hue and cry going off to -the Hulks, and people coming thence to examine the iron, Joe's -opinion was corroborated. They did not undertake to say when it had -left the prisonships to which it undoubtedly had once belonged -but they claimed to know for certain that that particular manacle -had not been worn by either of the two convicts who had escaped last -night. Further, one of those two was already retaken, and had not -freed himself of his iron. -Knowing what I knew, I set up an inference of my own here. I -believed the iron to be my convict's iron the iron I had seen and -heard him filing at, on the marshes but my mind did not accuse -him of having put it to its latest use. For, I believed one of two -other persons to have become possessed of it, and to have turned it -to this cruel account. Either Orlick, or the strange man who had -shown me the file. -Now, as to Orlick he had gone to town exactly as he told us when -we picked him up at the turnpike, he had been seen about town all -the evening, he had been in divers companies in several -publichouses, and he had come back with myself and Mr. Wopsle. -There was nothing against him, save the quarrel and my sister had -quarrelled with him, and with everybody else about her, ten -thousand times. As to the strange man if he had come back for his -two banknotes there could have been no dispute about them, because -my sister was fully prepared to restore them. Besides, there had -been no altercation the assailant had come in so silently and -suddenly, that she had been felled before she could look round. -It was horrible to think that I had provided the weapon, however -undesignedly, but I could hardly think otherwise. I suffered -unspeakable trouble while I considered and reconsidered whether I -should at last dissolve that spell of my childhood, and tell Joe -all the story. For months afterwards, I every day settled the -question finally in the negative, and reopened and reargued it next -morning. The contention came, after all, to this the secret was -such an old one now, had so grown into me and become a part of -myself, that I could not tear it away. In addition to the dread -that, having led up to so much mischief, it would be now more -likely than ever to alienate Joe from me if he believed it, I had a -further restraining dread that he would not believe it, but would -assort it with the fabulous dogs and vealcutlets as a monstrous -invention. However, I temporized with myself, of course for, was -I not wavering between right and wrong, when the thing is always -done? and resolved to make a full disclosure if I should see any -such new occasion as a new chance of helping in the discovery of -the assailant. -The Constables, and the Bow Street men from London for, this -happened in the days of the extinct redwaistcoated police were -about the house for a week or two, and did pretty much what I have -heard and read of like authorities doing in other such cases. They -took up several obviously wrong people, and they ran their heads -very hard against wrong ideas, and persisted in trying to fit the -circumstances to the ideas, instead of trying to extract ideas from -the circumstances. Also, they stood about the door of the Jolly -Bargemen, with knowing and reserved looks that filled the whole -neighbourhood with admiration and they had a mysterious manner of -taking their drink, that was almost as good as taking the culprit. -But not quite, for they never did it. -Long after these constitutional powers had dispersed, my sister lay -very ill in bed. Her sight was disturbed, so that she saw objects -multiplied, and grasped at visionary teacups and wineglasses -instead of the realities her hearing was greatly impaired her -memory also and her speech was unintelligible. When, at last, she -came round so far as to be helped downstairs, it was still -necessary to keep my slate always by her, that she might indicate -in writing what she could not indicate in speech. As she was very -bad handwriting apart a more than indifferent speller, and as Joe -was a more than indifferent reader, extraordinary complications -arose between them, which I was always called in to solve. The -administration of mutton instead of medicine, the substitution of -Tea for Joe, and the baker for bacon, were among the mildest of my -own mistakes. -However, her temper was greatly improved, and she was patient. A -tremulous uncertainty of the action of all her limbs soon became a -part of her regular state, and afterwards, at intervals of two or -three months, she would often put her hands to her head, and would -then remain for about a week at a time in some gloomy aberration of -mind. We were at a loss to find a suitable attendant for her, until -a circumstance happened conveniently to relieve us. Mr. Wopsle's -greataunt conquered a confirmed habit of living into which she had -fallen, and Biddy became a part of our establishment. -It may have been about a month after my sister's reappearance in -the kitchen, when Biddy came to us with a small speckled box -containing the whole of her worldly effects, and became a blessing -to the household. Above all, she was a blessing to Joe, for the -dear old fellow was sadly cut up by the constant contemplation of -the wreck of his wife, and had been accustomed, while attending on -her of an evening, to turn to me every now and then and say, with -his blue eyes moistened, "Such a fine figure of a woman as she once -were, Pip" Biddy instantly taking the cleverest charge of her as -though she had studied her from infancy, Joe became able in some -sort to appreciate the greater quiet of his life, and to get down -to the Jolly Bargemen now and then for a change that did him good. -It was characteristic of the police people that they had all more -or less suspected poor Joe though he never knew it, and that they -had to a man concurred in regarding him as one of the deepest -spirits they had ever encountered. -Biddy's first triumph in her new office, was to solve a difficulty -that had completely vanquished me. I had tried hard at it, but had -made nothing of it. Thus it was -Again and again and again, my sister had traced upon the slate, a -character that looked like a curious T, and then with the utmost -eagerness had called our attention to it as something she -particularly wanted. I had in vain tried everything producible that -began with a T, from tar to toast and tub. At length it had come -into my head that the sign looked like a hammer, and on my lustily -calling that word in my sister's ear, she had begun to hammer on -the table and had expressed a qualified assent. Thereupon, I had -brought in all our hammers, one after another, but without avail. -Then I bethought me of a crutch, the shape being much the same, and -I borrowed one in the village, and displayed it to my sister with -considerable confidence. But she shook her head to that extent when -she was shown it, that we were terrified lest in her weak and -shattered state she should dislocate her neck. -When my sister found that Biddy was very quick to understand her, -this mysterious sign reappeared on the slate. Biddy looked -thoughtfully at it, heard my explanation, looked thoughtfully at my -sister, looked thoughtfully at Joe who was always represented on -the slate by his initial letter, and ran into the forge, followed -by Joe and me. -"Why, of course" cried Biddy, with an exultant face. "Don't you -see? It's him" -Orlick, without a doubt She had lost his name, and could only -signify him by his hammer. We told him why we wanted him to come -into the kitchen, and he slowly laid down his hammer, wiped his -brow with his arm, took another wipe at it with his apron, and came -slouching out, with a curious loose vagabond bend in the knees that -strongly distinguished him. -I confess that I expected to see my sister denounce him, and that I -was disappointed by the different result. She manifested the -greatest anxiety to be on good terms with him, was evidently much -pleased by his being at length produced, and motioned that she -would have him given something to drink. She watched his -countenance as if she were particularly wishful to be assured that -he took kindly to his reception, she showed every possible desire -to conciliate him, and there was an air of humble propitiation in -all she did, such as I have seen pervade the bearing of a child -towards a hard master. After that day, a day rarely passed without -her drawing the hammer on her slate, and without Orlick's slouching -in and standing doggedly before her, as if he knew no more than I -did what to make of it. -Chapter -I now fell into a regular routine of apprenticeship life, which was -varied, beyond the limits of the village and the marshes, by no -more remarkable circumstance than the arrival of my birthday and my -paying another visit to Miss Havisham. I found Miss Sarah Pocket -still on duty at the gate, I found Miss Havisham just as I had left -her, and she spoke of Estella in the very same way, if not in the -very same words. The interview lasted but a few minutes, and she -gave me a guinea when I was going, and told me to come again on my -next birthday. I may mention at once that this became an annual -custom. I tried to decline taking the guinea on the first occasion, -but with no better effect than causing her to ask me very angrily, -if I expected more? Then, and after that, I took it. -So unchanging was the dull old house, the yellow light in the -darkened room, the faded spectre in the chair by the dressingtable -glass, that I felt as if the stopping of the clocks had stopped -Time in that mysterious place, and, while I and everything else -outside it grew older, it stood still. Daylight never entered the -house as to my thoughts and remembrances of it, any more than as to -the actual fact. It bewildered me, and under its influence I -continued at heart to hate my trade and to be ashamed of home. -Imperceptibly I became conscious of a change in Biddy, however. Her -shoes came up at the heel, her hair grew bright and neat, her hands -were always clean. She was not beautiful she was common, and -could not be like Estella but she was pleasant and wholesome and -sweettempered. She had not been with us more than a year I -remember her being newly out of mourning at the time it struck me, -when I observed to myself one evening that she had curiously -thoughtful and attentive eyes eyes that were very pretty and very -good. -It came of my lifting up my own eyes from a task I was poring at -writing some passages from a book, to improve myself in two ways at -once by a sort of stratagem and seeing Biddy observant of what I -was about. I laid down my pen, and Biddy stopped in her needlework -without laying it down. -"Biddy," said I, "how do you manage it? Either I am very stupid, or -you are very clever." -"What is it that I manage? I don't know," returned Biddy, smiling. -She managed our whole domestic life, and wonderfully too but I did -not mean that, though that made what I did mean, more surprising. -"How do you manage, Biddy," said I, "to learn everything that I -learn, and always to keep up with me?" I was beginning to be rather -vain of my knowledge, for I spent my birthday guineas on it, and -set aside the greater part of my pocketmoney for similar -investment though I have no doubt, now, that the little I knew was -extremely dear at the price. -"I might as well ask you," said Biddy, "how you manage?" -"No because when I come in from the forge of a night, any one can -see me turning to at it. But you never turn to at it, Biddy." -"I suppose I must catch it like a cough," said Biddy, quietly -and went on with her sewing. -Pursuing my idea as I leaned back in my wooden chair and looked at -Biddy sewing away with her head on one side, I began to think her -rather an extraordinary girl. For, I called to mind now, that she -was equally accomplished in the terms of our trade, and the names -of our different sorts of work, and our various tools. In short, -whatever I knew, Biddy knew. Theoretically, she was already as good -a blacksmith as I, or better. -"You are one of those, Biddy," said I, "who make the most of every -chance. You never had a chance before you came here, and see how -improved you are" -Biddy looked at me for an instant, and went on with her sewing. "I -was your first teacher though wasn't I?" said she, as she sewed. -"Biddy" I exclaimed, in amazement. "Why, you are crying" -"No I am not," said Biddy, looking up and laughing. "What put that -in your head?" -What could have put it in my head, but the glistening of a tear as -it dropped on her work? I sat silent, recalling what a drudge she -had been until Mr. Wopsle's greataunt successfully overcame that -bad habit of living, so highly desirable to be got rid of by some -people. I recalled the hopeless circumstances by which she had been -surrounded in the miserable little shop and the miserable little -noisy evening school, with that miserable old bundle of -incompetence always to be dragged and shouldered. I reflected that -even in those untoward times there must have been latent in Biddy -what was now developing, for, in my first uneasiness and discontent -I had turned to her for help, as a matter of course. Biddy sat -quietly sewing, shedding no more tears, and while I looked at her -and thought about it all, it occurred to me that perhaps I had not -been sufficiently grateful to Biddy. I might have been too -reserved, and should have patronized her more though I did not use -that precise word in my meditations, with my confidence. -"Yes, Biddy," I observed, when I had done turning it over, "you -were my first teacher, and that at a time when we little thought of -ever being together like this, in this kitchen." -"Ah, poor thing" replied Biddy. It was like her -selfforgetfulness, to transfer the remark to my sister, and to get -up and be busy about her, making her more comfortable "that's -sadly true" -"Well" said I, "we must talk together a little more, as we used to -do. And I must consult you a little more, as I used to do. Let us -have a quiet walk on the marshes next Sunday, Biddy, and a long -chat." -My sister was never left alone now but Joe more than readily -undertook the care of her on that Sunday afternoon, and Biddy and I -went out together. It was summertime, and lovely weather. When we -had passed the village and the church and the churchyard, and were -out on the marshes and began to see the sails of the ships as they -sailed on, I began to combine Miss Havisham and Estella with the -prospect, in my usual way. When we came to the riverside and sat -down on the bank, with the water rippling at our feet, making it -all more quiet than it would have been without that sound, I -resolved that it was a good time and place for the admission of -Biddy into my inner confidence. -"Biddy," said I, after binding her to secrecy, "I want to be a -gentleman." -"Oh, I wouldn't, if I was you" she returned. "I don't think it -would answer." -"Biddy," said I, with some severity, "I have particular reasons for -wanting to be a gentleman." -"You know best, Pip but don't you think you are happier as you -are?" -"Biddy," I exclaimed, impatiently, "I am not at all happy as I am. -I am disgusted with my calling and with my life. I have never taken -to either, since I was bound. Don't be absurd." -"Was I absurd?" said Biddy, quietly raising her eyebrows "I am -sorry for that I didn't mean to be. I only want you to do well, -and to be comfortable." -"Well then, understand once for all that I never shall or can be -comfortable or anything but miserable there, Biddy unless I -can lead a very different sort of life from the life I lead now." -"That's a pity" said Biddy, shaking her head with a sorrowful air. -Now, I too had so often thought it a pity, that, in the singular -kind of quarrel with myself which I was always carrying on, I was -half inclined to shed tears of vexation and distress when Biddy -gave utterance to her sentiment and my own. I told her she was -right, and I knew it was much to be regretted, but still it was not -to be helped. -"If I could have settled down," I said to Biddy, plucking up the -short grass within reach, much as I had once upon a time pulled my -feelings out of my hair and kicked them into the brewery wall "if -I could have settled down and been but half as fond of the forge as -I was when I was little, I know it would have been much better for -me. You and I and Joe would have wanted nothing then, and Joe and I -would perhaps have gone partners when I was out of my time, and I -might even have grown up to keep company with you, and we might -have sat on this very bank on a fine Sunday, quite different -people. I should have been good enough for you shouldn't I, -Biddy?" -Biddy sighed as she looked at the ships sailing on, and returned -for answer, "Yes I am not overparticular." It scarcely sounded -flattering, but I knew she meant well. -"Instead of that," said I, plucking up more grass and chewing a -blade or two, "see how I am going on. Dissatisfied, and -uncomfortable, and what would it signify to me, being coarse and -common, if nobody had told me so" -Biddy turned her face suddenly towards mine, and looked far more -attentively at me than she had looked at the sailing ships. -"It was neither a very true nor a very polite thing to say," she -remarked, directing her eyes to the ships again. "Who said it?" -I was disconcerted, for I had broken away without quite seeing -where I was going to. It was not to be shuffled off now, however, -and I answered, "The beautiful young lady at Miss Havisham's, and -she's more beautiful than anybody ever was, and I admire her -dreadfully, and I want to be a gentleman on her account." Having -made this lunatic confession, I began to throw my tornup grass -into the river, as if I had some thoughts of following it. -"Do you want to be a gentleman, to spite her or to gain her over?" -Biddy quietly asked me, after a pause. -"I don't know," I moodily answered. -"Because, if it is to spite her," Biddy pursued, "I should think -but you know best that might be better and more independently -done by caring nothing for her words. And if it is to gain her -over, I should think but you know best she was not worth -gaining over." -Exactly what I myself had thought, many times. Exactly what was -perfectly manifest to me at the moment. But how could I, a poor -dazed village lad, avoid that wonderful inconsistency into which -the best and wisest of men fall every day? -"It may be all quite true," said I to Biddy, "but I admire her -dreadfully." -In short, I turned over on my face when I came to that, and got a -good grasp on the hair on each side of my head, and wrenched it -well. All the while knowing the madness of my heart to be so very -mad and misplaced, that I was quite conscious it would have served -my face right, if I had lifted it up by my hair, and knocked it -against the pebbles as a punishment for belonging to such an idiot. -Biddy was the wisest of girls, and she tried to reason no more with -me. She put her hand, which was a comfortable hand though roughened -by work, upon my hands, one after another, and gently took them out -of my hair. Then she softly patted my shoulder in a soothing way, -while with my face upon my sleeve I cried a little exactly as I -had done in the brewery yard and felt vaguely convinced that I -was very much illused by somebody, or by everybody I can't say -which. -"I am glad of one thing," said Biddy, "and that is, that you have -felt you could give me your confidence, Pip. And I am glad of -another thing, and that is, that of course you know you may depend -upon my keeping it and always so far deserving it. If your first -teacher dear such a poor one, and so much in need of being taught -herself had been your teacher at the present time, she thinks she -knows what lesson she would set. But It would be a hard one to -learn, and you have got beyond her, and it's of no use now." So, -with a quiet sigh for me, Biddy rose from the bank, and said, with -a fresh and pleasant change of voice, "Shall we walk a little -further, or go home?" -"Biddy," I cried, getting up, putting my arm round her neck, and -giving her a kiss, "I shall always tell you everything." -"Till you're a gentleman," said Biddy. -"You know I never shall be, so that's always. Not that I have any -occasion to tell you anything, for you know everything I know as -I told you at home the other night." -"Ah" said Biddy, quite in a whisper, as she looked away at the -ships. And then repeated, with her former pleasant change "shall -we walk a little further, or go home?" -I said to Biddy we would walk a little further, and we did so, and -the summer afternoon toned down into the summer evening, and it was -very beautiful. I began to consider whether I was not more -naturally and wholesomely situated, after all, in these -circumstances, than playing beggar my neighbour by candlelight in -the room with the stopped clocks, and being despised by Estella. I -thought it would be very good for me if I could get her out of my -head, with all the rest of those remembrances and fancies, and -could go to work determined to relish what I had to do, and stick -to it, and make the best of it. I asked myself the question whether -I did not surely know that if Estella were beside me at that moment -instead of Biddy, she would make me miserable? I was obliged to -admit that I did know it for a certainty, and I said to myself, -"Pip, what a fool you are" -We talked a good deal as we walked, and all that Biddy said seemed -right. Biddy was never insulting, or capricious, or Biddy today -and somebody else tomorrow she would have derived only pain, and -no pleasure, from giving me pain she would far rather have wounded -her own breast than mine. How could it be, then, that I did not -like her much the better of the two? -"Biddy," said I, when we were walking homeward, "I wish you could -put me right." -"I wish I could" said Biddy. -"If I could only get myself to fall in love with you you don't -mind my speaking so openly to such an old acquaintance?" -"Oh dear, not at all" said Biddy. "Don't mind me." -"If I could only get myself to do it, that would be the thing for -me." -"But you never will, you see," said Biddy. -It did not appear quite so unlikely to me that evening, as it would -have done if we had discussed it a few hours before. I therefore -observed I was not quite sure of that. But Biddy said she was, and -she said it decisively. In my heart I believed her to be right and -yet I took it rather ill, too, that she should be so positive on -the point. -When we came near the churchyard, we had to cross an embankment, -and get over a stile near a sluice gate. There started up, from the -gate, or from the rushes, or from the ooze which was quite in his -stagnant way, Old Orlick. -"Halloa" he growled, "where are you two going?" -"Where should we be going, but home?" -"Well then," said he, "I'm jiggered if I don't see you home" -This penalty of being jiggered was a favourite supposititious case -of his. He attached no definite meaning to the word that I am aware -of, but used it, like his own pretended Christian name, to affront -mankind, and convey an idea of something savagely damaging. When I -was younger, I had had a general belief that if he had jiggered me -personally, he would have done it with a sharp and twisted hook. -Biddy was much against his going with us, and said to me in a -whisper, "Don't let him come I don't like him." As I did not like -him either, I took the liberty of saying that we thanked him, but -we didn't want seeing home. He received that piece of information -with a yell of laughter, and dropped back, but came slouching after -us at a little distance. -Curious to know whether Biddy suspected him of having had a hand in -that murderous attack of which my sister had never been able to -give any account, I asked her why she did not like him. -"Oh" she replied, glancing over her shoulder as he slouched after -us, "because I I am afraid he likes me." -"Did he ever tell you he liked you?" I asked, indignantly. -"No," said Biddy, glancing over her shoulder again, "he never told -me so but he dances at me, whenever he can catch my eye." -However novel and peculiar this testimony of attachment, I did not -doubt the accuracy of the interpretation. I was very hot indeed -upon Old Orlick's daring to admire her as hot as if it were an -outrage on myself. -"But it makes no difference to you, you know," said Biddy, calmly. -"No, Biddy, it makes no difference to me only I don't like it I -don't approve of it." -"Nor I neither," said Biddy. "Though that makes no difference to -you." -"Exactly," said I "but I must tell you I should have no opinion of -you, Biddy, if he danced at you with your own consent." -I kept an eye on Orlick after that night, and, whenever -circumstances were favourable to his dancing at Biddy, got before -him, to obscure that demonstration. He had struck root in Joe's -establishment, by reason of my sister's sudden fancy for him, or I -should have tried to get him dismissed. He quite understood and -reciprocated my good intentions, as I had reason to know -thereafter. -And now, because my mind was not confused enough before, I -complicated its confusion fifty thousandfold, by having states and -seasons when I was clear that Biddy was immeasurably better than -Estella, and that the plain honest working life to which I was -born, had nothing in it to be ashamed of, but offered me sufficient -means of selfrespect and happiness. At those times, I would decide -conclusively that my disaffection to dear old Joe and the forge, -was gone, and that I was growing up in a fair way to be partners -with Joe and to keep company with Biddy when all in a moment some -confounding remembrance of the Havisham days would fall upon me, -like a destructive missile, and scatter my wits again. Scattered -wits take a long time picking up and often, before I had got them -well together, they would be dispersed in all directions by one -stray thought, that perhaps after all Miss Havisham was going to -make my fortune when my time was out. -If my time had run out, it would have left me still at the height -of my perplexities, I dare say. It never did run out, however, but -was brought to a premature end, as I proceed to relate. -Chapter -It was in the fourth year of my apprenticeship to Joe, and it was a -Saturday night. There was a group assembled round the fire at the -Three Jolly Bargemen, attentive to Mr. Wopsle as he read the -newspaper aloud. Of that group I was one. -A highly popular murder had been committed, and Mr. Wopsle was -imbrued in blood to the eyebrows. He gloated over every abhorrent -adjective in the description, and identified himself with every -witness at the Inquest. He faintly moaned, "I am done for," as the -victim, and he barbarously bellowed, "I'll serve you out," as the -murderer. He gave the medical testimony, in pointed imitation of -our local practitioner and he piped and shook, as the aged -turnpikekeeper who had heard blows, to an extent so very paralytic -as to suggest a doubt regarding the mental competency of that -witness. The coroner, in Mr. Wopsle's hands, became Timon of Athens -the beadle, Coriolanus. He enjoyed himself thoroughly, and we all -enjoyed ourselves, and were delightfully comfortable. In this cozy -state of mind we came to the verdict Wilful Murder. -Then, and not sooner, I became aware of a strange gentleman leaning -over the back of the settle opposite me, looking on. There was an -expression of contempt on his face, and he bit the side of a great -forefinger as he watched the group of faces. -"Well" said the stranger to Mr. Wopsle, when the reading was done, -"you have settled it all to your own satisfaction, I have no -doubt?" -Everybody started and looked up, as if it were the murderer. He -looked at everybody coldly and sarcastically. -"Guilty, of course?" said he. "Out with it. Come" -"Sir," returned Mr. Wopsle, "without having the honour of your -acquaintance, I do say Guilty." Upon this, we all took courage to -unite in a confirmatory murmur. -"I know you do," said the stranger "I knew you would. I told you -so. But now I'll ask you a question. Do you know, or do you not -know, that the law of England supposes every man to be innocent, -until he is proved proved to be guilty?" -"Sir," Mr. Wopsle began to reply, "as an Englishman myself, I" -"Come" said the stranger, biting his forefinger at him. "Don't -evade the question. Either you know it, or you don't know it. Which -is it to be?" -He stood with his head on one side and himself on one side, in a -bullying interrogative manner, and he threw his forefinger at Mr. -Wopsle as it were to mark him out before biting it again. -"Now" said he. "Do you know it, or don't you know it?" -"Certainly I know it," replied Mr. Wopsle. -"Certainly you know it. Then why didn't you say so at first? Now, -I'll ask you another question" taking possession of Mr. Wopsle, as -if he had a right to him. "Do you know that none of these witnesses -have yet been crossexamined?" -Mr. Wopsle was beginning, "I can only say" when the stranger -stopped him. -"What? You won't answer the question, yes or no? Now, I'll try you -again." Throwing his finger at him again. "Attend to me. Are you -aware, or are you not aware, that none of these witnesses have yet -been crossexamined? Come, I only want one word from you. Yes, or -no?" -Mr. Wopsle hesitated, and we all began to conceive rather a poor -opinion of him. -"Come" said the stranger, "I'll help you. You don't deserve help, -but I'll help you. Look at that paper you hold in your hand. What -is it?" -"What is it?" repeated Mr. Wopsle, eyeing it, much at a loss. -"Is it," pursued the stranger in his most sarcastic and suspicious -manner, "the printed paper you have just been reading from?" -"Undoubtedly." -"Undoubtedly. Now, turn to that paper, and tell me whether it -distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that his legal -advisers instructed him altogether to reserve his defence?" -"I read that just now," Mr. Wopsle pleaded. -"Never mind what you read just now, sir I don't ask you what you -read just now. You may read the Lord's Prayer backwards, if you -like and, perhaps, have done it before today. Turn to the paper. -No, no, no my friend not to the top of the column you know better -than that to the bottom, to the bottom." We all began to think Mr. -Wopsle full of subterfuge. "Well? Have you found it?" -"Here it is," said Mr. Wopsle. -"Now, follow that passage with your eye, and tell me whether it -distinctly states that the prisoner expressly said that he was -instructed by his legal advisers wholly to reserve his defence? -Come Do you make that of it?" -Mr. Wopsle answered, "Those are not the exact words." -"Not the exact words" repeated the gentleman, bitterly. "Is that -the exact substance?" -"Yes," said Mr. Wopsle. -"Yes," repeated the stranger, looking round at the rest of the -company with his right hand extended towards the witness, Wopsle. -"And now I ask you what you say to the conscience of that man who, -with that passage before his eyes, can lay his head upon his pillow -after having pronounced a fellowcreature guilty, unheard?" -We all began to suspect that Mr. Wopsle was not the man we had -thought him, and that he was beginning to be found out. -"And that same man, remember," pursued the gentleman, throwing his -finger at Mr. Wopsle heavily "that same man might be summoned as a -juryman upon this very trial, and, having thus deeply committed -himself, might return to the bosom of his family and lay his head -upon his pillow, after deliberately swearing that he would well and -truly try the issue joined between Our Sovereign Lord the King and -the prisoner at the bar, and would a true verdict give according to -the evidence, so help him God" -We were all deeply persuaded that the unfortunate Wopsle had gone -too far, and had better stop in his reckless career while there was -yet time. -The strange gentleman, with an air of authority not to be disputed, -and with a manner expressive of knowing something secret about -every one of us that would effectually do for each individual if he -chose to disclose it, left the back of the settle, and came into -the space between the two settles, in front of the fire, where he -remained standing his left hand in his pocket, and he biting the -forefinger of his right. -"From information I have received," said he, looking round at us as -we all quailed before him, "I have reason to believe there is a -blacksmith among you, by name Joseph or Joe Gargery. Which is -the man?" -"Here is the man," said Joe. -The strange gentleman beckoned him out of his place, and Joe went. -"You have an apprentice," pursued the stranger, "commonly known as -Pip? Is he here?" -"I am here" I cried. -The stranger did not recognize me, but I recognized him as the -gentleman I had met on the stairs, on the occasion of my second -visit to Miss Havisham. I had known him the moment I saw him -looking over the settle, and now that I stood confronting him with -his hand upon my shoulder, I checked off again in detail, his large -head, his dark complexion, his deepset eyes, his bushy black -eyebrows, his large watchchain, his strong black dots of beard and -whisker, and even the smell of scented soap on his great hand. -"I wish to have a private conference with you two," said he, when -he had surveyed me at his leisure. "It will take a little time. -Perhaps we had better go to your place of residence. I prefer not -to anticipate my communication here you will impart as much or as -little of it as you please to your friends afterwards I have -nothing to do with that." -Amidst a wondering silence, we three walked out of the Jolly -Bargemen, and in a wondering silence walked home. While going -along, the strange gentleman occasionally looked at me, and -occasionally bit the side of his finger. As we neared home, Joe -vaguely acknowledging the occasion as an impressive and ceremonious -one, went on ahead to open the front door. Our conference was held -in the state parlour, which was feebly lighted by one candle. -It began with the strange gentleman's sitting down at the table, -drawing the candle to him, and looking over some entries in his -pocketbook. He then put up the pocketbook and set the candle a -little aside after peering round it into the darkness at Joe and -me, to ascertain which was which. -"My name," he said, "is Jaggers, and I am a lawyer in London. I am -pretty well known. I have unusual business to transact with you, -and I commence by explaining that it is not of my originating. If -my advice had been asked, I should not have been here. It was not -asked, and you see me here. What I have to do as the confidential -agent of another, I do. No less, no more." -Finding that he could not see us very well from where he sat, he -got up, and threw one leg over the back of a chair and leaned upon -it thus having one foot on the seat of the chair, and one foot on -the ground. -"Now, Joseph Gargery, I am the bearer of an offer to relieve you of -this young fellow your apprentice. You would not object to cancel -his indentures, at his request and for his good? You would want -nothing for so doing?" -"Lord forbid that I should want anything for not standing in Pip's -way," said Joe, staring. -"Lord forbidding is pious, but not to the purpose," returned Mr -Jaggers. "The question is, Would you want anything? Do you want -anything?" -"The answer is," returned Joe, sternly, "No." -I thought Mr. Jaggers glanced at Joe, as if he considered him a fool -for his disinterestedness. But I was too much bewildered between -breathless curiosity and surprise, to be sure of it. -"Very well," said Mr. Jaggers. "Recollect the admission you have -made, and don't try to go from it presently." -"Who's agoing to try?" retorted Joe. -"I don't say anybody is. Do you keep a dog?" -"Yes, I do keep a dog." -"Bear in mind then, that Brag is a good dog, but Holdfast is a -better. Bear that in mind, will you?" repeated Mr. Jaggers, shutting -his eyes and nodding his head at Joe, as if he were forgiving him -something. "Now, I return to this young fellow. And the -communication I have got to make is, that he has great -expectations." -Joe and I gasped, and looked at one another. -"I am instructed to communicate to him," said Mr. Jaggers, throwing -his finger at me sideways, "that he will come into a handsome -property. Further, that it is the desire of the present possessor -of that property, that he be immediately removed from his present -sphere of life and from this place, and be brought up as a -gentleman in a word, as a young fellow of great expectations." -My dream was out my wild fancy was surpassed by sober reality -Miss Havisham was going to make my fortune on a grand scale. -"Now, Mr. Pip," pursued the lawyer, "I address the rest of what I -have to say, to you. You are to understand, first, that it is the -request of the person from whom I take my instructions, that you -always bear the name of Pip. You will have no objection, I dare -say, to your great expectations being encumbered with that easy -condition. But if you have any objection, this is the time to -mention it." -My heart was beating so fast, and there was such a singing in my -ears, that I could scarcely stammer I had no objection. -"I should think not Now you are to understand, secondly, Mr. Pip, -that the name of the person who is your liberal benefactor remains -a profound secret, until the person chooses to reveal it. I am -empowered to mention that it is the intention of the person to -reveal it at first hand by word of mouth to yourself. When or where -that intention may be carried out, I cannot say no one can say. It -may be years hence. Now, you are distinctly to understand that you -are most positively prohibited from making any inquiry on this -head, or any allusion or reference, however distant, to any -individual whomsoever as the individual, in all the communications -you may have with me. If you have a suspicion in your own breast, -keep that suspicion in your own breast. It is not the least to the -purpose what the reasons of this prohibition are they may be the -strongest and gravest reasons, or they may be mere whim. This is -not for you to inquire into. The condition is laid down. Your -acceptance of it, and your observance of it as binding, is the only -remaining condition that I am charged with, by the person from whom -I take my instructions, and for whom I am not otherwise -responsible. That person is the person from whom you derive your -expectations, and the secret is solely held by that person and by -me. Again, not a very difficult condition with which to encumber -such a rise in fortune but if you have any objection to it, this -is the time to mention it. Speak out." -Once more, I stammered with difficulty that I had no objection. -"I should think not Now, Mr. Pip, I have done with stipulations." -Though he called me Mr. Pip, and began rather to make up to me, he -still could not get rid of a certain air of bullying suspicion and -even now he occasionally shut his eyes and threw his finger at me -while he spoke, as much as to express that he knew all kinds of -things to my disparagement, if he only chose to mention them. "We -come next, to mere details of arrangement. You must know that, -although I have used the term "expectations" more than once, you -are not endowed with expectations only. There is already lodged in -my hands, a sum of money amply sufficient for your suitable -education and maintenance. You will please consider me your -guardian. Oh" for I was going to thank him, "I tell you at once, I -am paid for my services, or I shouldn't render them. It is -considered that you must be better educated, in accordance with -your altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance -and necessity of at once entering on that advantage." -I said I had always longed for it. -"Never mind what you have always longed for, Mr. Pip," he retorted -"keep to the record. If you long for it now, that's enough. Am I -answered that you are ready to be placed at once, under some proper -tutor? Is that it?" -I stammered yes, that was it. -"Good. Now, your inclinations are to be consulted. I don't think -that wise, mind, but it's my trust. Have you ever heard of any -tutor whom you would prefer to another?" -I had never heard of any tutor but Biddy and Mr. Wopsle's greataunt -so, I replied in the negative. -"There is a certain tutor, of whom I have some knowledge, who I -think might suit the purpose," said Mr. Jaggers. "I don't recommend -him, observe because I never recommend anybody. The gentleman I -speak of, is one Mr. Matthew Pocket." -Ah I caught at the name directly. Miss Havisham's relation. The -Matthew whom Mr. and Mrs. Camilla had spoken of. The Matthew whose -place was to be at Miss Havisham's head, when she lay dead, in her -bride's dress on the bride's table. -"You know the name?" said Mr. Jaggers, looking shrewdly at me, and -then shutting up his eyes while he waited for my answer. -My answer was, that I had heard of the name. -"Oh" said he. "You have heard of the name. But the question is, -what do you say of it?" -I said, or tried to say, that I was much obliged to him for his -recommendation -"No, my young friend" he interrupted, shaking his great head very -slowly. "Recollect yourself" -Not recollecting myself, I began again that I was much obliged to -him for his recommendation -"No, my young friend," he interrupted, shaking his head and -frowning and smiling both at once "no, no, no it's very well -done, but it won't do you are too young to fix me with it. -Recommendation is not the word, Mr. Pip. Try another." -Correcting myself, I said that I was much obliged to him for his -mention of Mr. Matthew Pocket -"That's more like it" cried Mr. Jaggers. -And I added, I would gladly try that gentleman. -"Good. You had better try him in his own house. The way shall be -prepared for you, and you can see his son first, who is in London. -When will you come to London?" -I said glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless, that I -supposed I could come directly. -"First," said Mr. Jaggers, "you should have some new clothes to come -in, and they should not be working clothes. Say this day week. -You'll want some money. Shall I leave you twenty guineas?" -He produced a long purse, with the greatest coolness, and counted -them out on the table and pushed them over to me. This was the -first time he had taken his leg from the chair. He sat astride of -the chair when he had pushed the money over, and sat swinging his -purse and eyeing Joe. -"Well, Joseph Gargery? You look dumbfoundered?" -"I am" said Joe, in a very decided manner. -"It was understood that you wanted nothing for yourself, remember?" -"It were understood," said Joe. "And it are understood. And it ever -will be similar according." -"But what," said Mr. Jaggers, swinging his purse, "what if it was in -my instructions to make you a present, as compensation?" -"As compensation what for?" Joe demanded. -"For the loss of his services." -Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman. I -have often thought him since, like the steamhammer, that can crush -a man or pat an eggshell, in his combination of strength with -gentleness. "Pip is that hearty welcome," said Joe, "to go free -with his services, to honour and fortun', as no words can tell him. -But if you think as Money can make compensation to me for the loss -of the little child what come to the forge and ever the best of -friends" -O dear good Joe, whom I was so ready to leave and so unthankful to, -I see you again, with your muscular blacksmith's arm before your -eyes, and your broad chest heaving, and your voice dying away. O -dear good faithful tender Joe, I feel the loving tremble of your -hand upon my arm, as solemnly this day as if it had been the rustle -of an angel's wing -But I encouraged Joe at the time. I was lost in the mazes of my -future fortunes, and could not retrace the bypaths we had trodden -together. I begged Joe to be comforted, for as he said we had -ever been the best of friends, and as I said we ever would be so. -Joe scooped his eyes with his disengaged wrist, as if he were bent -on gouging himself, but said not another word. -Mr. Jaggers had looked on at this, as one who recognized in Joe the -village idiot, and in me his keeper. When it was over, he said, -weighing in his hand the purse he had ceased to swing -"Now, Joseph Gargery, I warn you this is your last chance. No half -measures with me. If you mean to take a present that I have it in -charge to make you, speak out, and you shall have it. If on the -contrary you mean to say" Here, to his great amazement, he was -stopped by Joe's suddenly working round him with every -demonstration of a fell pugilistic purpose. -"Which I meantersay," cried Joe, "that if you come into my place -bullbaiting and badgering me, come out Which I meantersay as sech -if you're a man, come on Which I meantersay that what I say, I -meantersay and stand or fall by" -I drew Joe away, and he immediately became placable merely stating -to me, in an obliging manner and as a polite expostulatory notice -to any one whom it might happen to concern, that he were not a -going to be bullbaited and badgered in his own place. Mr. Jaggers -had risen when Joe demonstrated, and had backed near the door. -Without evincing any inclination to come in again, he there -delivered his valedictory remarks. They were these -"Well, Mr. Pip, I think the sooner you leave here as you are to be -a gentleman the better. Let it stand for this day week, and you -shall receive my printed address in the meantime. You can take a -hackneycoach at the stagecoach office in London, and come -straight to me. Understand, that I express no opinion, one way or -other, on the trust I undertake. I am paid for undertaking it, and -I do so. Now, understand that, finally. Understand that" -He was throwing his finger at both of us, and I think would have -gone on, but for his seeming to think Joe dangerous, and going off. -Something came into my head which induced me to run after him, as -he was going down to the Jolly Bargemen where he had left a hired -carriage. -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Jaggers." -"Halloa" said he, facing round, "what's the matter?" -"I wish to be quite right, Mr. Jaggers, and to keep to your -directions so I thought I had better ask. Would there be any -objection to my taking leave of any one I know, about here, before -I go away?" -"No," said he, looking as if he hardly understood me. -"I don't mean in the village only, but uptown?" -"No," said he. "No objection." -I thanked him and ran home again, and there I found that Joe had -already locked the front door and vacated the state parlour, and -was seated by the kitchen fire with a hand on each knee, gazing -intently at the burning coals. I too sat down before the fire and -gazed at the coals, and nothing was said for a long time. -My sister was in her cushioned chair in her corner, and Biddy sat -at her needlework before the fire, and Joe sat next Biddy, and I -sat next Joe in the corner opposite my sister. The more I looked -into the glowing coals, the more incapable I became of looking at -Joe the longer the silence lasted, the more unable I felt to -speak. -At length I got out, "Joe, have you told Biddy?" -"No, Pip," returned Joe, still looking at the fire, and holding his -knees tight, as if he had private information that they intended to -make off somewhere, "which I left it to yourself, Pip." -"I would rather you told, Joe." -"Pip's a gentleman of fortun' then," said Joe, "and God bless him -in it" -Biddy dropped her work, and looked at me. Joe held his knees and -looked at me. I looked at both of them. After a pause, they both -heartily congratulated me but there was a certain touch of sadness -in their congratulations, that I rather resented. -I took it upon myself to impress Biddy and through Biddy, Joe -with the grave obligation I considered my friends under, to know -nothing and say nothing about the maker of my fortune. It would all -come out in good time, I observed, and in the meanwhile nothing was -to be said, save that I had come into great expectations from a -mysterious patron. Biddy nodded her head thoughtfully at the fire -as she took up her work again, and said she would be very -particular and Joe, still detaining his knees, said, "Ay, ay, I'll -be ekervally partickler, Pip" and then they congratulated me -again, and went on to express so much wonder at the notion of my -being a gentleman, that I didn't half like it. -Infinite pains were then taken by Biddy to convey to my sister some -idea of what had happened. To the best of my belief, those efforts -entirely failed. She laughed and nodded her head a great many -times, and even repeated after Biddy, the words "Pip" and -"Property." But I doubt if they had more meaning in them than an -election cry, and I cannot suggest a darker picture of her state of -mind. -I never could have believed it without experience, but as Joe and -Biddy became more at their cheerful ease again, I became quite -gloomy. Dissatisfied with my fortune, of course I could not be but -it is possible that I may have been, without quite knowing it, -dissatisfied with myself. -Anyhow, I sat with my elbow on my knee and my face upon my hand, -looking into the fire, as those two talked about my going away, and -about what they should do without me, and all that. And whenever I -caught one of them looking at me, though never so pleasantly and -they often looked at me particularly Biddy, I felt offended as -if they were expressing some mistrust of me. Though Heaven knows -they never did by word or sign. -At those times I would get up and look out at the door for, our -kitchen door opened at once upon the night, and stood open on -summer evenings to air the room. The very stars to which I then -raised my eyes, I am afraid I took to be but poor and humble stars -for glittering on the rustic objects among which I had passed my -life. -"Saturday night," said I, when we sat at our supper of -breadandcheese and beer. "Five more days, and then the day before -the day They'll soon go." -"Yes, Pip," observed Joe, whose voice sounded hollow in his beer -mug. "They'll soon go." -"Soon, soon go," said Biddy. -"I have been thinking, Joe, that when I go down town on Monday, and -order my new clothes, I shall tell the tailor that I'll come and -put them on there, or that I'll have them sent to Mr. Pumblechook's. -It would be very disagreeable to be stared at by all the people -here." -"Mr. and Mrs. Hubble might like to see you in your new genteel figure -too, Pip," said Joe, industriously cutting his bread, with his -cheese on it, in the palm of his left hand, and glancing at my -untasted supper as if he thought of the time when we used to -compare slices. "So might Wopsle. And the Jolly Bargemen might take -it as a compliment." -"That's just what I don't want, Joe. They would make such a -business of it such a coarse and common business that I -couldn't bear myself." -"Ah, that indeed, Pip" said Joe. "If you couldn't abear -yourself" -Biddy asked me here, as she sat holding my sister's plate, "Have -you thought about when you'll show yourself to Mr. Gargery, and your -sister, and me? You will show yourself to us won't you?" -"Biddy," I returned with some resentment, "you are so exceedingly -quick that it's difficult to keep up with you." -"She always were quick," observed Joe. -"If you had waited another moment, Biddy, you would have heard me -say that I shall bring my clothes here in a bundle one evening -most likely on the evening before I go away." -Biddy said no more. Handsomely forgiving her, I soon exchanged an -affectionate goodnight with her and Joe, and went up to bed. When -I got into my little room, I sat down and took a long look at it, -as a mean little room that I should soon be parted from and raised -above, for ever, It was furnished with fresh young remembrances -too, and even at the same moment I fell into much the same confused -division of mind between it and the better rooms to which I was -going, as I had been in so often between the forge and Miss -Havisham's, and Biddy and Estella. -The sun had been shining brightly all day on the roof of my attic, -and the room was warm. As I put the window open and stood looking -out, I saw Joe come slowly forth at the dark door below, and take a -turn or two in the air and then I saw Biddy come, and bring him a -pipe and light it for him. He never smoked so late, and it seemed -to hint to me that he wanted comforting, for some reason or other. -He presently stood at the door immediately beneath me, smoking his -pipe, and Biddy stood there too, quietly talking to him, and I knew -that they talked of me, for I heard my name mentioned in an -endearing tone by both of them more than once. I would not have -listened for more, if I could have heard more so, I drew away from -the window, and sat down in my one chair by the bedside, feeling it -very sorrowful and strange that this first night of my bright -fortunes should be the loneliest I had ever known. -Looking towards the open window, I saw light wreaths from Joe's -pipe floating there, and I fancied it was like a blessing from Joe -not obtruded on me or paraded before me, but pervading the air we -shared together. I put my light out, and crept into bed and it was -an uneasy bed now, and I never slept the old sound sleep in it any -more. -Chapter -Morning made a considerable difference in my general prospect of -Life, and brightened it so much that it scarcely seemed the same. -What lay heaviest on my mind, was, the consideration that six days -intervened between me and the day of departure for, I could not -divest myself of a misgiving that something might happen to London -in the meanwhile, and that, when I got there, it would be either -greatly deteriorated or clean gone. -Joe and Biddy were very sympathetic and pleasant when I spoke of -our approaching separation but they only referred to it when I -did. After breakfast, Joe brought out my indentures from the press -in the best parlour, and we put them in the fire, and I felt that I -was free. With all the novelty of my emancipation on me, I went to -church with Joe, and thought, perhaps the clergyman wouldn't have -read that about the rich man and the kingdom of Heaven, if he had -known all. -After our early dinner I strolled out alone, purposing to finish -off the marshes at once, and get them done with. As I passed the -church, I felt as I had felt during service in the morning a -sublime compassion for the poor creatures who were destined to go -there, Sunday after Sunday, all their lives through, and to lie -obscurely at last among the low green mounds. I promised myself -that I would do something for them one of these days, and formed a -plan in outline for bestowing a dinner of roastbeef and -plumpudding, a pint of ale, and a gallon of condescension, upon -everybody in the village. -If I had often thought before, with something allied to shame, of -my companionship with the fugitive whom I had once seen limping -among those graves, what were my thoughts on this Sunday, when the -place recalled the wretch, ragged and shivering, with his felon -iron and badge My comfort was, that it happened a long time ago, -and that he had doubtless been transported a long way off, and that -he was dead to me, and might be veritably dead into the bargain. -No more low wet grounds, no more dykes and sluices, no more of -these grazing cattle though they seemed, in their dull manner, to -wear a more respectful air now, and to face round, in order that -they might stare as long as possible at the possessor of such great -expectations farewell, monotonous acquaintances of my childhood, -henceforth I was for London and greatness not for smith's work in -general and for you I made my exultant way to the old Battery, -and, lying down there to consider the question whether Miss -Havisham intended me for Estella, fell asleep. -When I awoke, I was much surprised to find Joe sitting beside me, -smoking his pipe. He greeted me with a cheerful smile on my opening -my eyes, and said -"As being the last time, Pip, I thought I'd foller." -"And Joe, I am very glad you did so." -"Thankee, Pip." -"You may be sure, dear Joe," I went on, after we had shaken hands, -"that I shall never forget you." -"No, no, Pip" said Joe, in a comfortable tone, "I'm sure of that. -Ay, ay, old chap Bless you, it were only necessary to get it well -round in a man's mind, to be certain on it. But it took a bit of -time to get it well round, the change come so oncommon plump -didn't it?" -Somehow, I was not best pleased with Joe's being so mightily secure -of me. I should have liked him to have betrayed emotion, or to have -said, "It does you credit, Pip," or something of that sort. -Therefore, I made no remark on Joe's first head merely saying as -to his second, that the tidings had indeed come suddenly, but that -I had always wanted to be a gentleman, and had often and often -speculated on what I would do, if I were one. -"Have you though?" said Joe. "Astonishing" -"It's a pity now, Joe," said I, "that you did not get on a little -more, when we had our lessons here isn't it?" -"Well, I don't know," returned Joe. "I'm so awful dull. I'm only -master of my own trade. It were always a pity as I was so awful -dull but it's no more of a pity now, than it was this day -twelvemonth don't you see?" -What I had meant was, that when I came into my property and was -able to do something for Joe, it would have been much more -agreeable if he had been better qualified for a rise in station. He -was so perfectly innocent of my meaning, however, that I thought I -would mention it to Biddy in preference. -So, when we had walked home and had had tea, I took Biddy into our -little garden by the side of the lane, and, after throwing out in a -general way for the elevation of her spirits, that I should never -forget her, said I had a favour to ask of her. -"And it is, Biddy," said I, "that you will not omit any opportunity -of helping Joe on, a little." -"How helping him on?" asked Biddy, with a steady sort of glance. -"Well Joe is a dear good fellow in fact, I think he is the -dearest fellow that ever lived but he is rather backward in some -things. For instance, Biddy, in his learning and his manners." -Although I was looking at Biddy as I spoke, and although she opened -her eyes very wide when I had spoken, she did not look at me. -"Oh, his manners won't his manners do, then?" asked Biddy, -plucking a blackcurrant leaf. -"My dear Biddy, they do very well here" -"Oh they do very well here?" interrupted Biddy, looking closely at -the leaf in her hand. -"Hear me out but if I were to remove Joe into a higher sphere, as -I shall hope to remove him when I fully come into my property, they -would hardly do him justice." -"And don't you think he knows that?" asked Biddy. -It was such a very provoking question for it had never in the most -distant manner occurred to me, that I said, snappishly, "Biddy, -what do you mean?" -Biddy having rubbed the leaf to pieces between her hands and the -smell of a blackcurrant bush has ever since recalled to me that -evening in the little garden by the side of the lane said, "Have -you never considered that he may be proud?" -"Proud?" I repeated, with disdainful emphasis. -"Oh there are many kinds of pride," said Biddy, looking full at me -and shaking her head "pride is not all of one kind" -"Well? What are you stopping for?" said I. -"Not all of one kind," resumed Biddy. "He may be too proud to let -any one take him out of a place that he is competent to fill, and -fills well and with respect. To tell you the truth, I think he is -though it sounds bold in me to say so, for you must know him far -better than I do." -"Now, Biddy," said I, "I am very sorry to see this in you. I did -not expect to see this in you. You are envious, Biddy, and -grudging. You are dissatisfied on account of my rise in fortune, -and you can't help showing it." -"If you have the heart to think so," returned Biddy, "say so. Say -so over and over again, if you have the heart to think so." -"If you have the heart to be so, you mean, Biddy," said I, in a -virtuous and superior tone "don't put it off upon me. I am very -sorry to see it, and it's a it's a bad side of human nature. I -did intend to ask you to use any little opportunities you might -have after I was gone, of improving dear Joe. But after this, I ask -you nothing. I am extremely sorry to see this in you, Biddy," I -repeated. "It's a it's a bad side of human nature." -"Whether you scold me or approve of me," returned poor Biddy, "you -may equally depend upon my trying to do all that lies in my power, -here, at all times. And whatever opinion you take away of me, shall -make no difference in my remembrance of you. Yet a gentleman should -not be unjust neither," said Biddy, turning away her head. -I again warmly repeated that it was a bad side of human nature in -which sentiment, waiving its application, I have since seen reason -to think I was right, and I walked down the little path away from -Biddy, and Biddy went into the house, and I went out at the garden -gate and took a dejected stroll until suppertime again feeling it -very sorrowful and strange that this, the second night of my bright -fortunes, should be as lonely and unsatisfactory as the first. -But, morning once more brightened my view, and I extended my -clemency to Biddy, and we dropped the subject. Putting on the best -clothes I had, I went into town as early as I could hope to find -the shops open, and presented myself before Mr. Trabb, the tailor -who was having his breakfast in the parlour behind his shop, and -who did not think it worth his while to come out to me, but called -me in to him. -"Well" said Mr. Trabb, in a hailfellowwellmet kind of way. "How -are you, and what can I do for you?" -Mr. Trabb had sliced his hot roll into three feather beds, and was -slipping butter in between the blankets, and covering it up. He was -a prosperous old bachelor, and his open window looked into a -prosperous little garden and orchard, and there was a prosperous -iron safe let into the wall at the side of his fireplace, and I did -not doubt that heaps of his prosperity were put away in it in bags. -"Mr. Trabb," said I, "it's an unpleasant thing to have to mention, -because it looks like boasting but I have come into a handsome -property." -A change passed over Mr. Trabb. He forgot the butter in bed, got up -from the bedside, and wiped his fingers on the tablecloth, -exclaiming, "Lord bless my soul" -"I am going up to my guardian in London," said I, casually drawing -some guineas out of my pocket and looking at them "and I want a -fashionable suit of clothes to go in. I wish to pay for them," I -added otherwise I thought he might only pretend to make them -"with ready money." -"My dear sir," said Mr. Trabb, as he respectfully bent his body, -opened his arms, and took the liberty of touching me on the outside -of each elbow, "don't hurt me by mentioning that. May I venture to -congratulate you? Would you do me the favour of stepping into the -shop?" -Mr. Trabb's boy was the most audacious boy in all that countryside. -When I had entered he was sweeping the shop, and he had sweetened -his labours by sweeping over me. He was still sweeping when I came -out into the shop with Mr. Trabb, and he knocked the broom against -all possible corners and obstacles, to express as I understood it -equality with any blacksmith, alive or dead. -"Hold that noise," said Mr. Trabb, with the greatest sternness, "or -I'll knock your head off Do me the favour to be seated, sir. Now, -this," said Mr. Trabb, taking down a roll of cloth, and tiding it -out in a flowing manner over the counter, preparatory to getting -his hand under it to show the gloss, "is a very sweet article. I -can recommend it for your purpose, sir, because it really is extra -super. But you shall see some others. Give me Number Four, you" -To the boy, and with a dreadfully severe stare foreseeing the -danger of that miscreant's brushing me with it, or making some -other sign of familiarity. -Mr. Trabb never removed his stern eye from the boy until he had -deposited number four on the counter and was at a safe distance -again. Then, he commanded him to bring number five, and number -eight. "And let me have none of your tricks here," said Mr. Trabb, -"or you shall repent it, you young scoundrel, the longest day you -have to live." -Mr. Trabb then bent over number four, and in a sort of deferential -confidence recommended it to me as a light article for summer wear, -an article much in vogue among the nobility and gentry, an article -that it would ever be an honour to him to reflect upon a -distinguished fellowtownsman's if he might claim me for a -fellowtownsman having worn. "Are you bringing numbers five and -eight, you vagabond," said Mr. Trabb to the boy after that, "or -shall I kick you out of the shop and bring them myself?" -I selected the materials for a suit, with the assistance of Mr. -Trabb's judgment, and reentered the parlour to be measured. For, -although Mr. Trabb had my measure already, and had previously been -quite contented with it, he said apologetically that it "wouldn't -do under existing circumstances, sir wouldn't do at all." So, Mr. -Trabb measured and calculated me, in the parlour, as if I were an -estate and he the finest species of surveyor, and gave himself such -a world of trouble that I felt that no suit of clothes could -possibly remunerate him for his pains. When he had at last done and -had appointed to send the articles to Mr. Pumblechook's on the -Thursday evening, he said, with his hand upon the parlour lock, "I -know, sir, that London gentlemen cannot be expected to patronize -local work, as a rule but if you would give me a turn now and then -in the quality of a townsman, I should greatly esteem it. Good -morning, sir, much obliged. Door" -The last word was flung at the boy, who had not the least notion -what it meant. But I saw him collapse as his master rubbed me out -with his hands, and my first decided experience of the stupendous -power of money, was, that it had morally laid upon his back, -Trabb's boy. -After this memorable event, I went to the hatter's, and the -bootmaker's, and the hosier's, and felt rather like Mother -Hubbard's dog whose outfit required the services of so many trades. -I also went to the coachoffice and took my place for seven o'clock -on Saturday morning. It was not necessary to explain everywhere -that I had come into a handsome property but whenever I said -anything to that effect, it followed that the officiating tradesman -ceased to have his attention diverted through the window by the -Highstreet, and concentrated his mind upon me. When I had ordered -everything I wanted, I directed my steps towards Pumblechook's, -and, as I approached that gentleman's place of business, I saw him -standing at his door. -He was waiting for me with great impatience. He had been out early -in the chaisecart, and had called at the forge and heard the -news. He had prepared a collation for me in the Barnwell parlour, -and he too ordered his shopman to "come out of the gangway" as my -sacred person passed. -"My dear friend," said Mr. Pumblechook, taking me by both hands, -when he and I and the collation were alone, "I give you joy of your -good fortune. Well deserved, well deserved" -This was coming to the point, and I thought it a sensible way of -expressing himself. -"To think," said Mr. Pumblechook, after snorting admiration at me -for some moments, "that I should have been the humble instrument of -leading up to this, is a proud reward." -I begged Mr. Pumblechook to remember that nothing was to be ever -said or hinted, on that point. -"My dear young friend," said Mr. Pumblechook, "if you will allow me -to call you so" -I murmured "Certainly," and Mr. Pumblechook took me by both hands -again, and communicated a movement to his waistcoat, which had an -emotional appearance, though it was rather low down, "My dear young -friend, rely upon my doing my little all in your absence, by -keeping the fact before the mind of Joseph. Joseph" said Mr. -Pumblechook, in the way of a compassionate adjuration. "Joseph -Joseph" Thereupon he shook his head and tapped it, expressing -his sense of deficiency in Joseph. -"But my dear young friend," said Mr. Pumblechook, "you must be -hungry, you must be exhausted. Be seated. Here is a chicken had -round from the Boar, here is a tongue had round from the Boar, -here's one or two little things had round from the Boar, that I -hope you may not despise. But do I," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting -up again the moment after he had sat down, "see afore me, him as I -ever sported with in his times of happy infancy? And may I may -I ?" -This May I, meant might he shake hands? I consented, and he was -fervent, and then sat down again. -"Here is wine," said Mr. Pumblechook. "Let us drink, Thanks to -Fortune, and may she ever pick out her favourites with equal -judgment And yet I cannot," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again, -"see afore me One and likewise drink to One without again -expressing May I may I ?" -I said he might, and he shook hands with me again, and emptied his -glass and turned it upside down. I did the same and if I had -turned myself upside down before drinking, the wine could not have -gone more direct to my head. -Mr. Pumblechook helped me to the liver wing, and to the best slice -of tongue none of those outoftheway No Thoroughfares of Pork -now, and took, comparatively speaking, no care of himself at all. -"Ah poultry, poultry You little thought," said Mr. Pumblechook, -apostrophizing the fowl in the dish, "when you was a young -fledgling, what was in store for you. You little thought you was to -be refreshment beneath this humble roof for one as Call it a -weakness, if you will," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again, "but -may I? may I ?" -It began to be unnecessary to repeat the form of saying he might, -so he did it at once. How he ever did it so often without wounding -himself with my knife, I don't know. -"And your sister," he resumed, after a little steady eating, "which -had the honour of bringing you up by hand It's a sad picter, to -reflect that she's no longer equal to fully understanding the -honour. May" -I saw he was about to come at me again, and I stopped him. -"We'll drink her health," said I. -"Ah" cried Mr. Pumblechook, leaning back in his chair, quite -flaccid with admiration, "that's the way you know 'em, sir" I -don't know who Sir was, but he certainly was not I, and there was -no third person present "that's the way you know the nobleminded, -sir Ever forgiving and ever affable. It might," said the servile -Pumblechook, putting down his untasted glass in a hurry and getting -up again, "to a common person, have the appearance of repeating -but may I ?" -When he had done it, he resumed his seat and drank to my sister. -"Let us never be blind," said Mr. Pumblechook, "to her faults of -temper, but it is to be hoped she meant well." -At about this time, I began to observe that he was getting flushed -in the face as to myself, I felt all face, steeped in wine and -smarting. -I mentioned to Mr. Pumblechook that I wished to have my new clothes -sent to his house, and he was ecstatic on my so distinguishing him. -I mentioned my reason for desiring to avoid observation in the -village, and he lauded it to the skies. There was nobody but -himself, he intimated, worthy of my confidence, and in short, -might he? Then he asked me tenderly if I remembered our boyish -games at sums, and how we had gone together to have me bound -apprentice, and, in effect, how he had ever been my favourite fancy -and my chosen friend? If I had taken ten times as many glasses of -wine as I had, I should have known that he never had stood in that -relation towards me, and should in my heart of hearts have -repudiated the idea. Yet for all that, I remember feeling convinced -that I had been much mistaken in him, and that he was a sensible -practical goodhearted prime fellow. -By degrees he fell to reposing such great confidence in me, as to -ask my advice in reference to his own affairs. He mentioned that -there was an opportunity for a great amalgamation and monopoly of -the corn and seed trade on those premises, if enlarged, such as had -never occurred before in that, or any other neighbourhood. What -alone was wanting to the realization of a vast fortune, he -considered to be More Capital. Those were the two little words, -more capital. Now it appeared to him Pumblechook that if that -capital were got into the business, through a sleeping partner, sir -which sleeping partner would have nothing to do but walk in, by -self or deputy, whenever he pleased, and examine the books and -walk in twice a year and take his profits away in his pocket, to -the tune of fifty per cent. it appeared to him that that might be -an opening for a young gentleman of spirit combined with property, -which would be worthy of his attention. But what did I think? He -had great confidence in my opinion, and what did I think? I gave it -as my opinion. "Wait a bit" The united vastness and distinctness -of this view so struck him, that he no longer asked if he might -shake hands with me, but said he really must and did. -We drank all the wine, and Mr. Pumblechook pledged himself over and -over again to keep Joseph up to the mark I don't know what mark, -and to render me efficient and constant service I don't know what -service. He also made known to me for the first time in my life, -and certainly after having kept his secret wonderfully well, that -he had always said of me, "That boy is no common boy, and mark me, -his fortun' will be no common fortun'." He said with a tearful -smile that it was a singular thing to think of now, and I said so -too. Finally, I went out into the air, with a dim perception that -there was something unwonted in the conduct of the sunshine, and -found that I had slumberously got to the turnpike without having -taken any account of the road. -There, I was roused by Mr. Pumblechook's hailing me. He was a long -way down the sunny street, and was making expressive gestures for -me to stop. I stopped, and he came up breathless. -"No, my dear friend," said he, when he had recovered wind for -speech. "Not if I can help it. This occasion shall not entirely -pass without that affability on your part. May I, as an old -friend and wellwisher? May I?" -We shook hands for the hundredth time at least, and he ordered a -young carter out of my way with the greatest indignation. Then, he -blessed me and stood waving his hand to me until I had passed the -crook in the road and then I turned into a field and had a long -nap under a hedge before I pursued my way home. -I had scant luggage to take with me to London, for little of the -little I possessed was adapted to my new station. But, I began -packing that same afternoon, and wildly packed up things that I -knew I should want next morning, in a fiction that there was not a -moment to be lost. -So, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, passed and on Friday morning -I went to Mr. Pumblechook's, to put on my new clothes and pay my -visit to Miss Havisham. Mr. Pumblechook's own room was given up to -me to dress in, and was decorated with clean towels expressly for -the event. My clothes were rather a disappointment, of course. -Probably every new and eagerly expected garment ever put on since -clothes came in, fell a trifle short of the wearer's expectation. -But after I had had my new suit on, some half an hour, and had gone -through an immensity of posturing with Mr. Pumblechook's very -limited dressingglass, in the futile endeavour to see my legs, it -seemed to fit me better. It being market morning at a neighbouring -town some ten miles off, Mr. Pumblechook was not at home. I had not -told him exactly when I meant to leave, and was not likely to shake -hands with him again before departing. This was all as it should -be, and I went out in my new array fearfully ashamed of having to -pass the shopman, and suspicious after all that I was at a personal -disadvantage, something like Joe's in his Sunday suit. -I went circuitously to Miss Havisham's by all the back ways, and -rang at the bell constrainedly, on account of the stiff long -fingers of my gloves. Sarah Pocket came to the gate, and positively -reeled back when she saw me so changed her walnutshell -countenance likewise, turned from brown to green and yellow. -"You?" said she. "You, good gracious What do you want?" -"I am going to London, Miss Pocket," said I, "and want to say -goodbye to Miss Havisham." -I was not expected, for she left me locked in the yard, while she -went to ask if I were to be admitted. After a very short delay, she -returned and took me up, staring at me all the way. -Miss Havisham was taking exercise in the room with the long spread -table, leaning on her crutch stick. The room was lighted as of -yore, and at the sound of our entrance, she stopped and turned. She -was then just abreast of the rotted bridecake. -"Don't go, Sarah," she said. "Well, Pip?" -"I start for London, Miss Havisham, tomorrow," I was exceedingly -careful what I said, "and I thought you would kindly not mind my -taking leave of you." -"This is a gay figure, Pip," said she, making her crutch stick play -round me, as if she, the fairy godmother who had changed me, were -bestowing the finishing gift. -"I have come into such good fortune since I saw you last, Miss -Havisham," I murmured. "And I am so grateful for it, Miss -Havisham" -"Ay, ay" said she, looking at the discomfited and envious Sarah, -with delight. "I have seen Mr. Jaggers. I have heard about it, Pip. -So you go tomorrow?" -"Yes, Miss Havisham." -"And you are adopted by a rich person?" -"Yes, Miss Havisham." -"Not named?" -"No, Miss Havisham." -"And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?" -"Yes, Miss Havisham." -She quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her -enjoyment of Sarah Pocket's jealous dismay. "Well" she went on -"you have a promising career before you. Be good deserve it and -abide by Mr. Jaggers's instructions." She looked at me, and looked -at Sarah, and Sarah's countenance wrung out of her watchful face a -cruel smile. "Goodbye, Pip you will always keep the name of -Pip, you know." -"Yes, Miss Havisham." -"Goodbye, Pip" -She stretched out her hand, and I went down on my knee and put it -to my lips. I had not considered how I should take leave of her it -came naturally to me at the moment, to do this. She looked at Sarah -Pocket with triumph in her weird eyes, and so I left my fairy -godmother, with both her hands on her crutch stick, standing in the -midst of the dimly lighted room beside the rotten bridecake that -was hidden in cobwebs. -Sarah Pocket conducted me down, as if I were a ghost who must be -seen out. She could not get over my appearance, and was in the last -degree confounded. I said "Goodbye, Miss Pocket" but she merely -stared, and did not seem collected enough to know that I had -spoken. Clear of the house, I made the best of my way back to -Pumblechook's, took off my new clothes, made them into a bundle, -and went back home in my older dress, carrying it to speak the -truth much more at my ease too, though I had the bundle to carry. -And now, those six days which were to have run out so slowly, had -run out fast and were gone, and tomorrow looked me in the face -more steadily than I could look at it. As the six evenings had -dwindled away, to five, to four, to three, to two, I had become -more and more appreciative of the society of Joe and Biddy. On this -last evening, I dressed my self out in my new clothes, for their -delight, and sat in my splendour until bedtime. We had a hot supper -on the occasion, graced by the inevitable roast fowl, and we had -some flip to finish with. We were all very low, and none the higher -for pretending to be in spirits. -I was to leave our village at five in the morning, carrying my -little handportmanteau, and I had told Joe that I wished to walk -away all alone. I am afraid sore afraid that this purpose -originated in my sense of the contrast there would be between me -and Joe, if we went to the coach together. I had pretended with -myself that there was nothing of this taint in the arrangement but -when I went up to my little room on this last night, I felt -compelled to admit that it might be so, and had an impulse upon me -to go down again and entreat Joe to walk with me in the morning. I -did not. -All night there were coaches in my broken sleep, going to wrong -places instead of to London, and having in the traces, now dogs, -now cats, now pigs, now men never horses. Fantastic failures of -journeys occupied me until the day dawned and the birds were -singing. Then, I got up and partly dressed, and sat at the window -to take a last look out, and in taking it fell asleep. -Biddy was astir so early to get my breakfast, that, although I did -not sleep at the window an hour, I smelt the smoke of the kitchen -fire when I started up with a terrible idea that it must be late in -the afternoon. But long after that, and long after I had heard the -clinking of the teacups and was quite ready, I wanted the -resolution to go down stairs. After all, I remained up there, -repeatedly unlocking and unstrapping my small portmanteau and -locking and strapping it up again, until Biddy called to me that I -was late. -It was a hurried breakfast with no taste in it. I got up from the -meal, saying with a sort of briskness, as if it had only just -occurred to me, "Well I suppose I must be off" and then I kissed -my sister who was laughing and nodding and shaking in her usual -chair, and kissed Biddy, and threw my arms around Joe's neck. Then -I took up my little portmanteau and walked out. The last I saw of -them was, when I presently heard a scuffle behind me, and looking -back, saw Joe throwing an old shoe after me and Biddy throwing -another old shoe. I stopped then, to wave my hat, and dear old Joe -waved his strong right arm above his head, crying huskily -"Hooroar" and Biddy put her apron to her face. -I walked away at a good pace, thinking it was easier to go than I -had supposed it would be, and reflecting that it would never have -done to have had an old shoe thrown after the coach, in sight of -all the Highstreet. I whistled and made nothing of going. But the -village was very peaceful and quiet, and the light mists were -solemnly rising, as if to show me the world, and I had been so -innocent and little there, and all beyond was so unknown and great, -that in a moment with a strong heave and sob I broke into tears. It -was by the fingerpost at the end of the village, and I laid my -hand upon it, and said, "Goodbye O my dear, dear friend" -Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are -rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I -was better after I had cried, than before more sorry, more aware -of my own ingratitude, more gentle. If I had cried before, I should -have had Joe with me then. -So subdued I was by those tears, and by their breaking out again in -the course of the quiet walk, that when I was on the coach, and it -was clear of the town, I deliberated with an aching heart whether I -would not get down when we changed horses and walk back, and have -another evening at home, and a better parting. We changed, and I -had not made up my mind, and still reflected for my comfort that it -would be quite practicable to get down and walk back, when we -changed again. And while I was occupied with these deliberations, I -would fancy an exact resemblance to Joe in some man coming along -the road towards us, and my heart would beat high. As if he could -possibly be there -We changed again, and yet again, and it was now too late and too -far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen -now, and the world lay spread before me. -THIS IS THE END OF THE FIRST STAGE OF PIP'S EXPECTATIONS. -Chapter -The journey from our town to the metropolis, was a journey of about -five hours. It was a little past midday when the fourhorse -stagecoach by which I was a passenger, got into the ravel of -traffic frayed out about the Cross Keys, Woodstreet, Cheapside, -London. -We Britons had at that time particularly settled that it was -treasonable to doubt our having and our being the best of -everything otherwise, while I was scared by the immensity of -London, I think I might have had some faint doubts whether it was -not rather ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty. -Mr. Jaggers had duly sent me his address it was, Little Britain, -and he had written after it on his card, "just out of Smithfield, -and close by the coachoffice." Nevertheless, a hackneycoachman, -who seemed to have as many capes to his greasy greatcoat as he was -years old, packed me up in his coach and hemmed me in with a -folding and jingling barrier of steps, as if he were going to take -me fifty miles. His getting on his box, which I remember to have -been decorated with an old weatherstained peagreen hammercloth -motheaten into rags, was quite a work of time. It was a wonderful -equipage, with six great coronets outside, and ragged things behind -for I don't know how many footmen to hold on by, and a harrow below -them, to prevent amateur footmen from yielding to the temptation. -I had scarcely had time to enjoy the coach and to think how like a -strawyard it was, and yet how like a ragshop, and to wonder why -the horses' nosebags were kept inside, when I observed the -coachman beginning to get down, as if we were going to stop -presently. And stop we presently did, in a gloomy street, at -certain offices with an open door, whereon was painted MR. JAGGERS. -"How much?" I asked the coachman. -The coachman answered, "A shilling unless you wish to make it -more." -I naturally said I had no wish to make it more. -"Then it must be a shilling," observed the coachman. "I don't want -to get into trouble. I know him" He darkly closed an eye at Mr -Jaggers's name, and shook his head. -When he had got his shilling, and had in course of time completed -the ascent to his box, and had got away which appeared to relieve -his mind, I went into the front office with my little portmanteau -in my hand and asked, Was Mr. Jaggers at home? -"He is not," returned the clerk. "He is in Court at present. Am I -addressing Mr. Pip?" -I signified that he was addressing Mr. Pip. -"Mr. Jaggers left word would you wait in his room. He couldn't say -how long he might be, having a case on. But it stands to reason, -his time being valuable, that he won't be longer than he can help." -With those words, the clerk opened a door, and ushered me into an -inner chamber at the back. Here, we found a gentleman with one eye, -in a velveteen suit and kneebreeches, who wiped his nose with his -sleeve on being interrupted in the perusal of the newspaper. -"Go and wait outside, Mike," said the clerk. -I began to say that I hoped I was not interrupting when the clerk -shoved this gentleman out with as little ceremony as I ever saw -used, and tossing his fur cap out after him, left me alone. -Mr. Jaggers's room was lighted by a skylight only, and was a most -dismal place the skylight, eccentrically pitched like a broken -head, and the distorted adjoining houses looking as if they had -twisted themselves to peep down at me through it. There were not so -many papers about, as I should have expected to see and there were -some odd objects about, that I should not have expected to see -such as an old rusty pistol, a sword in a scabbard, several -strangelooking boxes and packages, and two dreadful casts on a -shelf, of faces peculiarly swollen, and twitchy about the nose. Mr. -Jaggers's own highbacked chair was of deadly black horsehair, -with rows of brass nails round it, like a coffin and I fancied I -could see how he leaned back in it, and bit his forefinger at the -clients. The room was but small, and the clients seemed to have had -a habit of backing up against the wall the wall, especially -opposite to Mr. Jaggers's chair, being greasy with shoulders. I -recalled, too, that the oneeyed gentleman had shuffled forth -against the wall when I was the innocent cause of his being turned -out. -I sat down in the cliental chair placed over against Mr. Jaggers's -chair, and became fascinated by the dismal atmosphere of the place. -I called to mind that the clerk had the same air of knowing -something to everybody else's disadvantage, as his master had. I -wondered how many other clerks there were upstairs, and whether -they all claimed to have the same detrimental mastery of their -fellowcreatures. I wondered what was the history of all the odd -litter about the room, and how it came there. I wondered whether -the two swollen faces were of Mr. Jaggers's family, and, if he were -so unfortunate as to have had a pair of such illlooking relations, -why he stuck them on that dusty perch for the blacks and flies to -settle on, instead of giving them a place at home. Of course I had -no experience of a London summer day, and my spirits may have been -oppressed by the hot exhausted air, and by the dust and grit that -lay thick on everything. But I sat wondering and waiting in Mr. -Jaggers's close room, until I really could not bear the two casts -on the shelf above Mr. Jaggers's chair, and got up and went out. -When I told the clerk that I would take a turn in the air while I -waited, he advised me to go round the corner and I should come into -Smithfield. So, I came into Smithfield and the shameful place, -being all asmear with filth and fat and blood and foam, seemed to -stick to me. So, I rubbed it off with all possible speed by turning -into a street where I saw the great black dome of Saint Paul's -bulging at me from behind a grim stone building which a bystander -said was Newgate Prison. Following the wall of the jail, I found -the roadway covered with straw to deaden the noise of passing -vehicles and from this, and from the quantity of people standing -about, smelling strongly of spirits and beer, I inferred that the -trials were on. -While I looked about me here, an exceedingly dirty and partially -drunk minister of justice asked me if I would like to step in and -hear a trial or so informing me that he could give me a front -place for halfacrown, whence I should command a full view of the -Lord Chief Justice in his wig and robes mentioning that awful -personage like waxwork, and presently offering him at the reduced -price of eighteenpence. As I declined the proposal on the plea of -an appointment, he was so good as to take me into a yard and show -me where the gallows was kept, and also where people were publicly -whipped, and then he showed me the Debtors' Door, out of which -culprits came to be hanged heightening the interest of that -dreadful portal by giving me to understand that "four on 'em" would -come out at that door the day after tomorrow at eight in the -morning, to be killed in a row. This was horrible, and gave me a -sickening idea of London the more so as the Lord Chief Justice's -proprietor wore from his hat down to his boots and up again to his -pockethandkerchief inclusive mildewed clothes, which had -evidently not belonged to him originally, and which, I took it into -my head, he had bought cheap of the executioner. Under these -circumstances I thought myself well rid of him for a shilling. -I dropped into the office to ask if Mr. Jaggers had come in yet, and -I found he had not, and I strolled out again. This time, I made the -tour of Little Britain, and turned into Bartholomew Close and now -I became aware that other people were waiting about for Mr. Jaggers, -as well as I. There were two men of secret appearance lounging in -Bartholomew Close, and thoughtfully fitting their feet into the -cracks of the pavement as they talked together, one of whom said to -the other when they first passed me, that "Jaggers would do it if -it was to be done." There was a knot of three men and two women -standing at a corner, and one of the women was crying on her dirty -shawl, and the other comforted her by saying, as she pulled her own -shawl over her shoulders, "Jaggers is for him, 'Melia, and what -more could you have?" There was a redeyed little Jew who came into -the Close while I was loitering there, in company with a second -little Jew whom he sent upon an errand and while the messenger was -gone, I remarked this Jew, who was of a highly excitable -temperament, performing a jig of anxiety under a lamppost and -accompanying himself, in a kind of frenzy, with the words, "Oh -Jaggerth, Jaggerth, Jaggerth all otherth ith CagMaggerth, give me -Jaggerth" These testimonies to the popularity of my guardian made -a deep impression on me, and I admired and wondered more than ever. -At length, as I was looking out at the iron gate of Bartholomew -Close into Little Britain, I saw Mr. Jaggers coming across the road -towards me. All the others who were waiting, saw him at the same -time, and there was quite a rush at him. Mr. Jaggers, putting a hand -on my shoulder and walking me on at his side without saying -anything to me, addressed himself to his followers. -First, he took the two secret men. -"Now, I have nothing to say to you," said Mr. Jaggers, throwing his -finger at them. "I want to know no more than I know. As to the -result, it's a tossup. I told you from the first it was a tossup. -Have you paid Wemmick?" -"We made the money up this morning, sir," said one of the men, -submissively, while the other perused Mr. Jaggers's face. -"I don't ask you when you made it up, or where, or whether you made -it up at all. Has Wemmick got it?" -"Yes, sir," said both the men together. -"Very well then you may go. Now, I won't have it" said Mr -Jaggers, waving his hand at them to put them behind him. "If you -say a word to me, I'll throw up the case." -"We thought, Mr. Jaggers" one of the men began, pulling off his -hat. -"That's what I told you not to do," said Mr. Jaggers. "You thought -I think for you that's enough for you. If I want you, I know where -to find you I don't want you to find me. Now I won't have it. I -won't hear a word." -The two men looked at one another as Mr. Jaggers waved them behind -again, and humbly fell back and were heard no more. -"And now you" said Mr. Jaggers, suddenly stopping, and turning on -the two women with the shawls, from whom the three men had meekly -separated. "Oh Amelia, is it?" -"Yes, Mr. Jaggers." -"And do you remember," retorted Mr. Jaggers, "that but for me you -wouldn't be here and couldn't be here?" -"Oh yes, sir" exclaimed both women together. "Lord bless you, sir, -well we knows that" -"Then why," said Mr. Jaggers, "do you come here?" -"My Bill, sir" the crying woman pleaded. -"Now, I tell you what" said Mr. Jaggers. "Once for all. If you -don't know that your Bill's in good hands, I know it. And if you -come here, bothering about your Bill, I'll make an example of both -your Bill and you, and let him slip through my fingers. Have you -paid Wemmick?" -"Oh yes, sir Every farden." -"Very well. Then you have done all you have got to do. Say another -word one single word and Wemmick shall give you your money -back." -This terrible threat caused the two women to fall off immediately. -No one remained now but the excitable Jew, who had already raised -the skirts of Mr. Jaggers's coat to his lips several times. -"I don't know this man" said Mr. Jaggers, in the same devastating -strain "What does this fellow want?" -"Ma thear Mithter Jaggerth. Hown brother to Habraham Latharuth?" -"Who's he?" said Mr. Jaggers. "Let go of my coat." -The suitor, kissing the hem of the garment again before -relinquishing it, replied, "Habraham Latharuth, on thuthpithion of -plate." -"You're too late," said Mr. Jaggers. "I am over the way." -"Holy father, Mithter Jaggerth" cried my excitable acquaintance, -turning white, "don't thay you're again Habraham Latharuth" -"I am," said Mr. Jaggers, "and there's an end of it. Get out of the -way." -"Mithter Jaggerth Half a moment My hown cuthen'th gone to Mithter -Wemmick at thith prethent minute, to hoffer him hany termth. -Mithter Jaggerth Half a quarter of a moment If you'd have the -condethenthun to be bought off from the t'other thide at hany -thuperior prithe money no object Mithter Jaggerth Mithter " -My guardian threw his supplicant off with supreme indifference, and -left him dancing on the pavement as if it were redhot. Without -further interruption, we reached the front office, where we found -the clerk and the man in velveteen with the fur cap. -"Here's Mike," said the clerk, getting down from his stool, and -approaching Mr. Jaggers confidentially. -"Oh" said Mr. Jaggers, turning to the man, who was pulling a lock -of hair in the middle of his forehead, like the Bull in Cock Robin -pulling at the bellrope "your man comes on this afternoon. Well?" -"Well, Mas'r Jaggers," returned Mike, in the voice of a sufferer -from a constitutional cold "arter a deal o' trouble, I've found -one, sir, as might do." -"What is he prepared to swear?" -"Well, Mas'r Jaggers," said Mike, wiping his nose on his fur cap -this time "in a general way, anythink." -Mr. Jaggers suddenly became most irate. "Now, I warned you before," -said he, throwing his forefinger at the terrified client, "that if -you ever presumed to talk in that way here, I'd make an example of -you. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell ME that?" -The client looked scared, but bewildered too, as if he were -unconscious what he had done. -"Spooney" said the clerk, in a low voice, giving him a stir with -his elbow. "Soft Head Need you say it face to face?" -"Now, I ask you, you blundering booby," said my guardian, very -sternly, "once more and for the last time, what the man you have -brought here is prepared to swear?" -Mike looked hard at my guardian, as if he were trying to learn a -lesson from his face, and slowly replied, "Ayther to character, or -to having been in his company and never left him all the night in -question." -"Now, be careful. In what station of life is this man?" -Mike looked at his cap, and looked at the floor, and looked at the -ceiling, and looked at the clerk, and even looked at me, before -beginning to reply in a nervous manner, "We've dressed him up -like" when my guardian blustered out -"What? You WILL, will you?" -"Spooney" added the clerk again, with another stir. -After some helpless casting about, Mike brightened and began again -"He is dressed like a 'spectable pieman. A sort of a pastrycook." -"Is he here?" asked my guardian. -"I left him," said Mike, "a settin on some doorsteps round the -corner." -"Take him past that window, and let me see him." -The window indicated, was the office window. We all three went to -it, behind the wire blind, and presently saw the client go by in an -accidental manner, with a murderouslooking tall individual, in a -short suit of white linen and a paper cap. This guileless -confectioner was not by any means sober, and had a black eye in the -green stage of recovery, which was painted over. -"Tell him to take his witness away directly," said my guardian to -the clerk, in extreme disgust, "and ask him what he means by -bringing such a fellow as that." -My guardian then took me into his own room, and while he lunched, -standing, from a sandwichbox and a pocket flask of sherry he -seemed to bully his very sandwich as he ate it, informed me what -arrangements he had made for me. I was to go to "Barnard's Inn," to -young Mr. Pocket's rooms, where a bed had been sent in for my -accommodation I was to remain with young Mr. Pocket until Monday -on Monday I was to go with him to his father's house on a visit, -that I might try how I liked it. Also, I was told what my allowance -was to be it was a very liberal one and had handed to me from -one of my guardian's drawers, the cards of certain tradesmen with -whom I was to deal for all kinds of clothes, and such other things -as I could in reason want. "You will find your credit good, Mr. -Pip," said my guardian, whose flask of sherry smelt like a whole -caskfull, as he hastily refreshed himself, "but I shall by this -means be able to check your bills, and to pull you up if I find you -outrunning the constable. Of course you'll go wrong somehow, but -that's no fault of mine." -After I had pondered a little over this encouraging sentiment, I -asked Mr. Jaggers if I could send for a coach? He said it was not -worth while, I was so near my destination Wemmick should walk -round with me, if I pleased. -I then found that Wemmick was the clerk in the next room. Another -clerk was rung down from upstairs to take his place while he was -out, and I accompanied him into the street, after shaking hands -with my guardian. We found a new set of people lingering outside, -but Wemmick made a way among them by saying coolly yet decisively, -"I tell you it's no use he won't have a word to say to one of -you" and we soon got clear of them, and went on side by side. -Chapter -Casting my eyes on Mr. Wemmick as we went along, to see what he was -like in the light of day, I found him to be a dry man, rather short -in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to -have been imperfectly chipped out with a dulledged chisel. There -were some marks in it that might have been dimples, if the material -had been softer and the instrument finer, but which, as it was, -were only dints. The chisel had made three or four of these -attempts at embellishment over his nose, but had given them up -without an effort to smooth them off. I judged him to be a bachelor -from the frayed condition of his linen, and he appeared to have -sustained a good many bereavements for, he wore at least four -mourning rings, besides a brooch representing a lady and a weeping -willow at a tomb with an urn on it. I noticed, too, that several -rings and seals hung at his watch chain, as if he were quite laden -with remembrances of departed friends. He had glittering eyes -small, keen, and black and thin wide mottled lips. He had had -them, to the best of my belief, from forty to fifty years. -"So you were never in London before?" said Mr. Wemmick to me. -"No," said I. -"I was new here once," said Mr. Wemmick. "Rum to think of now" -"You are well acquainted with it now?" -"Why, yes," said Mr. Wemmick. "I know the moves of it." -"Is it a very wicked place?" I asked, more for the sake of saying -something than for information. -"You may get cheated, robbed, and murdered, in London. But there -are plenty of people anywhere, who'll do that for you." -"If there is bad blood between you and them," said I, to soften it -off a little. -"Oh I don't know about bad blood," returned Mr. Wemmick "there's -not much bad blood about. They'll do it, if there's anything to be -got by it." -"That makes it worse." -"You think so?" returned Mr. Wemmick. "Much about the same, I should -say." -He wore his hat on the back of his head, and looked straight before -him walking in a selfcontained way as if there were nothing in -the streets to claim his attention. His mouth was such a postoffice -of a mouth that he had a mechanical appearance of smiling. We had -got to the top of Holborn Hill before I knew that it was merely a -mechanical appearance, and that he was not smiling at all. -"Do you know where Mr. Matthew Pocket lives?" I asked Mr. Wemmick. -"Yes," said he, nodding in the direction. "At Hammersmith, west of -London." -"Is that far?" -"Well Say five miles." -"Do you know him?" -"Why, you're a regular crossexaminer" said Mr. Wemmick, looking at -me with an approving air. "Yes, I know him. I know him" -There was an air of toleration or depreciation about his utterance -of these words, that rather depressed me and I was still looking -sideways at his block of a face in search of any encouraging note -to the text, when he said here we were at Barnard's Inn. My -depression was not alleviated by the announcement, for, I had -supposed that establishment to be an hotel kept by Mr. Barnard, to -which the Blue Boar in our town was a mere publichouse. Whereas I -now found Barnard to be a disembodied spirit, or a fiction, and his -inn the dingiest collection of shabby buildings ever squeezed -together in a rank corner as a club for Tomcats. -We entered this haven through a wicketgate, and were disgorged by -an introductory passage into a melancholy little square that looked -to me like a flat buryingground. I thought it had the most dismal -trees in it, and the most dismal sparrows, and the most dismal -cats, and the most dismal houses in number half a dozen or so, -that I had ever seen. I thought the windows of the sets of chambers -into which those houses were divided, were in every stage of -dilapidated blind and curtain, crippled flowerpot, cracked glass, -dusty decay, and miserable makeshift while To Let To Let To Let, -glared at me from empty rooms, as if no new wretches ever came -there, and the vengeance of the soul of Barnard were being slowly -appeased by the gradual suicide of the present occupants and their -unholy interment under the gravel. A frouzy mourning of soot and -smoke attired this forlorn creation of Barnard, and it had strewn -ashes on its head, and was undergoing penance and humiliation as a -mere dusthole. Thus far my sense of sight while dry rot and wet -rot and all the silent rots that rot in neglected roof and cellar -rot of rat and mouse and bug and coachingstables near at hand -besides addressed themselves faintly to my sense of smell, and -moaned, "Try Barnard's Mixture." -So imperfect was this realization of the first of my great -expectations, that I looked in dismay at Mr. Wemmick. "Ah" said he, -mistaking me "the retirement reminds you of the country. So it -does me." -He led me into a corner and conducted me up a flight of stairs -which appeared to me to be slowly collapsing into sawdust, so that -one of those days the upper lodgers would look out at their doors -and find themselves without the means of coming down to a set of -chambers on the top floor. MR. POCKET, JUN., was painted on the -door, and there was a label on the letterbox, "Return shortly." -"He hardly thought you'd come so soon," Mr. Wemmick explained. "You -don't want me any more?" -"No, thank you," said I. -"As I keep the cash," Mr. Wemmick observed, "we shall most likely -meet pretty often. Good day." -"Good day." -I put out my hand, and Mr. Wemmick at first looked at it as if he -thought I wanted something. Then he looked at me, and said, -correcting himself, -"To be sure Yes. You're in the habit of shaking hands?" -I was rather confused, thinking it must be out of the London -fashion, but said yes. -"I have got so out of it" said Mr. Wemmick "except at last. Very -glad, I'm sure, to make your acquaintance. Good day" -When we had shaken hands and he was gone, I opened the staircase -window and had nearly beheaded myself, for, the lines had rotted -away, and it came down like the guillotine. Happily it was so quick -that I had not put my head out. After this escape, I was content to -take a foggy view of the Inn through the window's encrusting dirt, -and to stand dolefully looking out, saying to myself that London -was decidedly overrated. -Mr. Pocket, Junior's, idea of Shortly was not mine, for I had nearly -maddened myself with looking out for half an hour, and had written -my name with my finger several times in the dirt of every pane in -the window, before I heard footsteps on the stairs. Gradually there -arose before me the hat, head, neckcloth, waistcoat, trousers, -boots, of a member of society of about my own standing. He had a -paperbag under each arm and a pottle of strawberries in one hand, -and was out of breath. -"Mr. Pip?" said he. -"Mr. Pocket?" said I. -"Dear me" he exclaimed. "I am extremely sorry but I knew there -was a coach from your part of the country at midday, and I thought -you would come by that one. The fact is, I have been out on your -account not that that is any excuse for I thought, coming from -the country, you might like a little fruit after dinner, and I went -to Covent Garden Market to get it good." -For a reason that I had, I felt as if my eyes would start out of my -head. I acknowledged his attention incoherently, and began to think -this was a dream. -"Dear me" said Mr. Pocket, Junior. "This door sticks so" -As he was fast making jam of his fruit by wrestling with the door -while the paperbags were under his arms, I begged him to allow me -to hold them. He relinquished them with an agreeable smile, and -combated with the door as if it were a wild beast. It yielded so -suddenly at last, that he staggered back upon me, and I staggered -back upon the opposite door, and we both laughed. But still I felt -as if my eyes must start out of my head, and as if this must be a -dream. -"Pray come in," said Mr. Pocket, Junior. "Allow me to lead the way. -I am rather bare here, but I hope you'll be able to make out -tolerably well till Monday. My father thought you would get on more -agreeably through tomorrow with me than with him, and might like -to take a walk about London. I am sure I shall be very happy to -show London to you. As to our table, you won't find that bad, I -hope, for it will be supplied from our coffeehouse here, and it -is only right I should add at your expense, such being Mr. -Jaggers's directions. As to our lodging, it's not by any means -splendid, because I have my own bread to earn, and my father hasn't -anything to give me, and I shouldn't be willing to take it, if he -had. This is our sittingroom just such chairs and tables and -carpet and so forth, you see, as they could spare from home. You -mustn't give me credit for the tablecloth and spoons and castors, -because they come for you from the coffeehouse. This is my little -bedroom rather musty, but Barnard's is musty. This is your -bedroom the furniture's hired for the occasion, but I trust it -will answer the purpose if you should want anything, I'll go and -fetch it. The chambers are retired, and we shall be alone together, -but we shan't fight, I dare say. But, dear me, I beg your pardon, -you're holding the fruit all this time. Pray let me take these bags -from you. I am quite ashamed." -As I stood opposite to Mr. Pocket, Junior, delivering him the bags, -One, Two, I saw the starting appearance come into his own eyes that -I knew to be in mine, and he said, falling back -"Lord bless me, you're the prowling boy" -"And you," said I, "are the pale young gentleman" -Chapter -The pale young gentleman and I stood contemplating one another in -Barnard's Inn, until we both burst out laughing. "The idea of its -being you" said he. "The idea of its being you" said I. And then -we contemplated one another afresh, and laughed again. "Well" said -the pale young gentleman, reaching out his hand goodhumouredly, -"it's all over now, I hope, and it will be magnanimous in you if -you'll forgive me for having knocked you about so." -I derived from this speech that Mr. Herbert Pocket for Herbert was -the pale young gentleman's name still rather confounded his -intention with his execution. But I made a modest reply, and we -shook hands warmly. -"You hadn't come into your good fortune at that time?" said Herbert -Pocket. -"No," said I. -"No," he acquiesced "I heard it had happened very lately. I was -rather on the lookout for goodfortune then." -"Indeed?" -"Yes. Miss Havisham had sent for me, to see if she could take a -fancy to me. But she couldn't at all events, she didn't." -I thought it polite to remark that I was surprised to hear that. -"Bad taste," said Herbert, laughing, "but a fact. Yes, she had sent -for me on a trial visit, and if I had come out of it successfully, -I suppose I should have been provided for perhaps I should have -been whatyoumaycalled it to Estella." -"What's that?" I asked, with sudden gravity. -He was arranging his fruit in plates while we talked, which divided -his attention, and was the cause of his having made this lapse of a -word. "Affianced," he explained, still busy with the fruit. -"Betrothed. Engaged. What'shisnamed. Any word of that sort." -"How did you bear your disappointment?" I asked. -"Pooh" said he, "I didn't care much for it. She's a Tartar." -"Miss Havisham?" -"I don't say no to that, but I meant Estella. That girl's hard and -haughty and capricious to the last degree, and has been brought up -by Miss Havisham to wreak revenge on all the male sex." -"What relation is she to Miss Havisham?" -"None," said he. "Only adopted." -"Why should she wreak revenge on all the male sex? What revenge?" -"Lord, Mr. Pip" said he. "Don't you know?" -"No," said I. -"Dear me It's quite a story, and shall be saved till dinnertime. -And now let me take the liberty of asking you a question. How did -you come there, that day?" -I told him, and he was attentive until I had finished, and then -burst out laughing again, and asked me if I was sore afterwards? I -didn't ask him if he was, for my conviction on that point was -perfectly established. -"Mr. Jaggers is your guardian, I understand?" he went on. -"Yes." -"You know he is Miss Havisham's man of business and solicitor, and -has her confidence when nobody else has?" -This was bringing me I felt towards dangerous ground. I answered -with a constraint I made no attempt to disguise, that I had seen Mr. -Jaggers in Miss Havisham's house on the very day of our combat, but -never at any other time, and that I believed he had no recollection -of having ever seen me there. -"He was so obliging as to suggest my father for your tutor, and he -called on my father to propose it. Of course he knew about my -father from his connexion with Miss Havisham. My father is Miss -Havisham's cousin not that that implies familiar intercourse -between them, for he is a bad courtier and will not propitiate -her." -Herbert Pocket had a frank and easy way with him that was very -taking. I had never seen any one then, and I have never seen any -one since, who more strongly expressed to me, in every look and -tone, a natural incapacity to do anything secret and mean. There -was something wonderfully hopeful about his general air, and -something that at the same time whispered to me he would never be -very successful or rich. I don't know how this was. I became imbued -with the notion on that first occasion before we sat down to -dinner, but I cannot define by what means. -He was still a pale young gentleman, and had a certain conquered -languor about him in the midst of his spirits and briskness, that -did not seem indicative of natural strength. He had not a handsome -face, but it was better than handsome being extremely amiable and -cheerful. His figure was a little ungainly, as in the days when my -knuckles had taken such liberties with it, but it looked as if it -would always be light and young. Whether Mr. Trabb's local work -would have sat more gracefully on him than on me, may be a -question but I am conscious that he carried off his rather old -clothes, much better than I carried off my new suit. -As he was so communicative, I felt that reserve on my part would be -a bad return unsuited to our years. I therefore told him my small -story, and laid stress on my being forbidden to inquire who my -benefactor was. I further mentioned that as I had been brought up a -blacksmith in a country place, and knew very little of the ways of -politeness, I would take it as a great kindness in him if he would -give me a hint whenever he saw me at a loss or going wrong. -"With pleasure," said he, "though I venture to prophesy that you'll -want very few hints. I dare say we shall be often together, and I -should like to banish any needless restraint between us. Will you -do me the favour to begin at once to call me by my Christian name, -Herbert?" -I thanked him, and said I would. I informed him in exchange that my -Christian name was Philip. -"I don't take to Philip," said he, smiling, "for it sounds like a -moral boy out of the spellingbook, who was so lazy that he fell -into a pond, or so fat that he couldn't see out of his eyes, or so -avaricious that he locked up his cake till the mice ate it, or so -determined to go a bird'snesting that he got himself eaten by -bears who lived handy in the neighbourhood. I tell you what I -should like. We are so harmonious, and you have been a blacksmith -would you mind it?" -"I shouldn't mind anything that you propose," I answered, "but I -don't understand you." -"Would you mind Handel for a familiar name? There's a charming -piece of music by Handel, called the Harmonious Blacksmith." -"I should like it very much." -"Then, my dear Handel," said he, turning round as the door opened, -"here is the dinner, and I must beg of you to take the top of the -table, because the dinner is of your providing." -This I would not hear of, so he took the top, and I faced him. It -was a nice little dinner seemed to me then, a very Lord Mayor's -Feast and it acquired additional relish from being eaten under -those independent circumstances, with no old people by, and with -London all around us. This again was heightened by a certain gipsy -character that set the banquet off for, while the table was, as Mr. -Pumblechook might have said, the lap of luxury being entirely -furnished forth from the coffeehouse the circumjacent region of -sittingroom was of a comparatively pastureless and shifty -character imposing on the waiter the wandering habits of putting -the covers on the floor where he fell over them, the melted -butter in the armchair, the bread on the bookshelves, the cheese in -the coalscuttle, and the boiled fowl into my bed in the next room -where I found much of its parsley and butter in a state of -congelation when I retired for the night. All this made the feast -delightful, and when the waiter was not there to watch me, my -pleasure was without alloy. -We had made some progress in the dinner, when I reminded Herbert of -his promise to tell me about Miss Havisham. -"True," he replied. "I'll redeem it at once. Let me introduce the -topic, Handel, by mentioning that in London it is not the custom to -put the knife in the mouth for fear of accidents and that while -the fork is reserved for that use, it is not put further in than -necessary. It is scarcely worth mentioning, only it's as well to do -as other people do. Also, the spoon is not generally used -overhand, but under. This has two advantages. You get at your -mouth better which after all is the object, and you save a good -deal of the attitude of opening oysters, on the part of the right -elbow." -He offered these friendly suggestions in such a lively way, that we -both laughed and I scarcely blushed. -"Now," he pursued, "concerning Miss Havisham. Miss Havisham, you -must know, was a spoilt child. Her mother died when she was a baby, -and her father denied her nothing. Her father was a country -gentleman down in your part of the world, and was a brewer. I don't -know why it should be a crack thing to be a brewer but it is -indisputable that while you cannot possibly be genteel and bake, -you may be as genteel as never was and brew. You see it every day." -"Yet a gentleman may not keep a publichouse may he?" said I. -"Not on any account," returned Herbert "but a publichouse may -keep a gentleman. Well Mr. Havisham was very rich and very proud. -So was his daughter." -"Miss Havisham was an only child?" I hazarded. -"Stop a moment, I am coming to that. No, she was not an only child -she had a halfbrother. Her father privately married again his -cook, I rather think." -"I thought he was proud," said I. -"My good Handel, so he was. He married his second wife privately, -because he was proud, and in course of time she died. When she was -dead, I apprehend he first told his daughter what he had done, and -then the son became a part of the family, residing in the house you -are acquainted with. As the son grew a young man, he turned out -riotous, extravagant, undutiful altogether bad. At last his -father disinherited him but he softened when he was dying, and -left him well off, though not nearly so well off as Miss Havisham. -Take another glass of wine, and excuse my mentioning that society -as a body does not expect one to be so strictly conscientious in -emptying one's glass, as to turn it bottom upwards with the rim on -one's nose." -I had been doing this, in an excess of attention to his recital. I -thanked him, and apologized. He said, "Not at all," and resumed. -"Miss Havisham was now an heiress, and you may suppose was looked -after as a great match. Her halfbrother had now ample means again, -but what with debts and what with new madness wasted them most -fearfully again. There were stronger differences between him and -her, than there had been between him and his father, and it is -suspected that he cherished a deep and mortal grudge against her, -as having influenced the father's anger. Now, I come to the cruel -part of the story merely breaking off, my dear Handel, to remark -that a dinnernapkin will not go into a tumbler." -Why I was trying to pack mine into my tumbler, I am wholly unable -to say. I only know that I found myself, with a perseverance worthy -of a much better cause, making the most strenuous exertions to -compress it within those limits. Again I thanked him and -apologized, and again he said in the cheerfullest manner, "Not at -all, I am sure" and resumed. -"There appeared upon the scene say at the races, or the public -balls, or anywhere else you like a certain man, who made love to -Miss Havisham. I never saw him, for this happened fiveandtwenty -years ago before you and I were, Handel, but I have heard my -father mention that he was a showyman, and the kind of man for the -purpose. But that he was not to be, without ignorance or prejudice, -mistaken for a gentleman, my father most strongly asseverates -because it is a principle of his that no man who was not a true -gentleman at heart, ever was, since the world began, a true -gentleman in manner. He says, no varnish can hide the grain of the -wood and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will -express itself. Well This man pursued Miss Havisham closely, and -professed to be devoted to her. I believe she had not shown much -susceptibility up to that time but all the susceptibility she -possessed, certainly came out then, and she passionately loved him. -There is no doubt that she perfectly idolized him. He practised on -her affection in that systematic way, that he got great sums of -money from her, and he induced her to buy her brother out of a -share in the brewery which had been weakly left him by his father -at an immense price, on the plea that when he was her husband he -must hold and manage it all. Your guardian was not at that time in -Miss Havisham's councils, and she was too haughty and too much in -love, to be advised by any one. Her relations were poor and -scheming, with the exception of my father he was poor enough, but -not timeserving or jealous. The only independent one among them, -he warned her that she was doing too much for this man, and was -placing herself too unreservedly in his power. She took the first -opportunity of angrily ordering my father out of the house, in his -presence, and my father has never seen her since." -I thought of her having said, "Matthew will come and see me at last -when I am laid dead upon that table" and I asked Herbert whether -his father was so inveterate against her? -"It's not that," said he, "but she charged him, in the presence of -her intended husband, with being disappointed in the hope of -fawning upon her for his own advancement, and, if he were to go to -her now, it would look true even to him and even to her. To -return to the man and make an end of him. The marriage day was -fixed, the wedding dresses were bought, the wedding tour was -planned out, the wedding guests were invited. The day came, but not -the bridegroom. He wrote her a letter" -"Which she received," I struck in, "when she was dressing for her -marriage? At twenty minutes to nine?" -"At the hour and minute," said Herbert, nodding, "at which she -afterwards stopped all the clocks. What was in it, further than -that it most heartlessly broke the marriage off, I can't tell you, -because I don't know. When she recovered from a bad illness that -she had, she laid the whole place waste, as you have seen it, and -she has never since looked upon the light of day." -"Is that all the story?" I asked, after considering it. -"All I know of it and indeed I only know so much, through piecing -it out for myself for my father always avoids it, and, even when -Miss Havisham invited me to go there, told me no more of it than it -was absolutely requisite I should understand. But I have forgotten -one thing. It has been supposed that the man to whom she gave her -misplaced confidence, acted throughout in concert with her -halfbrother that it was a conspiracy between them and that they -shared the profits." -"I wonder he didn't marry her and get all the property," said I. -"He may have been married already, and her cruel mortification may -have been a part of her halfbrother's scheme," said Herbert. -"Mind I don't know that." -"What became of the two men?" I asked, after again considering the -subject. -"They fell into deeper shame and degradation if there can be -deeper and ruin." -"Are they alive now?" -"I don't know." -"You said just now, that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham, -but adopted. When adopted?" -Herbert shrugged his shoulders. "There has always been an Estella, -since I have heard of a Miss Havisham. I know no more. And now, -Handel," said he, finally throwing off the story as it were, "there -is a perfectly open understanding between us. All that I know about -Miss Havisham, you know." -"And all that I know," I retorted, "you know." -"I fully believe it. So there can be no competition or perplexity -between you and me. And as to the condition on which you hold your -advancement in life namely, that you are not to inquire or -discuss to whom you owe it you may be very sure that it will -never be encroached upon, or even approached, by me, or by any one -belonging to me." -In truth, he said this with so much delicacy, that I felt the -subject done with, even though I should be under his father's roof -for years and years to come. Yet he said it with so much meaning, -too, that I felt he as perfectly understood Miss Havisham to be my -benefactress, as I understood the fact myself. -It had not occurred to me before, that he had led up to the theme -for the purpose of clearing it out of our way but we were so much -the lighter and easier for having broached it, that I now perceived -this to be the case. We were very gay and sociable, and I asked -him, in the course of conversation, what he was? He replied, "A -capitalist an Insurer of Ships." I suppose he saw me glancing -about the room in search of some tokens of Shipping, or capital, -for he added, "In the City." -I had grand ideas of the wealth and importance of Insurers of Ships -in the City, and I began to think with awe, of having laid a young -Insurer on his back, blackened his enterprising eye, and cut his -responsible head open. But, again, there came upon me, for my -relief, that odd impression that Herbert Pocket would never be very -successful or rich. -"I shall not rest satisfied with merely employing my capital in -insuring ships. I shall buy up some good Life Assurance shares, and -cut into the Direction. I shall also do a little in the mining way. -None of these things will interfere with my chartering a few -thousand tons on my own account. I think I shall trade," said he, -leaning back in his chair, "to the East Indies, for silks, shawls, -spices, dyes, drugs, and precious woods. It's an interesting -trade." -"And the profits are large?" said I. -"Tremendous" said he. -I wavered again, and began to think here were greater expectations -than my own. -"I think I shall trade, also," said he, putting his thumbs in his -waistcoat pockets, "to the West Indies, for sugar, tobacco, and -rum. Also to Ceylon, specially for elephants' tusks." -"You will want a good many ships," said I. -"A perfect fleet," said he. -Quite overpowered by the magnificence of these transactions, I -asked him where the ships he insured mostly traded to at present? -"I haven't begun insuring yet," he replied. "I am looking about -me." -Somehow, that pursuit seemed more in keeping with Barnard's Inn. I -said in a tone of conviction, "Ahh" -"Yes. I am in a countinghouse, and looking about me." -"Is a countinghouse profitable?" I asked. -"To do you mean to the young fellow who's in it?" he asked, in -reply. -"Yes to you." -"Why, nno not to me." He said this with the air of one carefully -reckoning up and striking a balance. "Not directly profitable. That -is, it doesn't pay me anything, and I have to keep myself." -This certainly had not a profitable appearance, and I shook my head -as if I would imply that it would be difficult to lay by much -accumulative capital from such a source of income. -"But the thing is," said Herbert Pocket, "that you look about you. -That's the grand thing. You are in a countinghouse, you know, and -you look about you." -It struck me as a singular implication that you couldn't be out of -a countinghouse, you know, and look about you but I silently -deferred to his experience. -"Then the time comes," said Herbert, "when you see your opening. -And you go in, and you swoop upon it and you make your capital, and -then there you are When you have once made your capital, you have -nothing to do but employ it." -This was very like his way of conducting that encounter in the -garden very like. His manner of bearing his poverty, too, exactly -corresponded to his manner of bearing that defeat. It seemed to me -that he took all blows and buffets now, with just the same air as -he had taken mine then. It was evident that he had nothing around -him but the simplest necessaries, for everything that I remarked -upon turned out to have been sent in on my account from the -coffeehouse or somewhere else. -Yet, having already made his fortune in his own mind, he was so -unassuming with it that I felt quite grateful to him for not being -puffed up. It was a pleasant addition to his naturally pleasant -ways, and we got on famously. In the evening we went out for a walk -in the streets, and went halfprice to the Theatre and next day we -went to church at Westminster Abbey, and in the afternoon we walked -in the Parks and I wondered who shod all the horses there, and -wished Joe did. -On a moderate computation, it was many months, that Sunday, since I -had left Joe and Biddy. The space interposed between myself and -them, partook of that expansion, and our marshes were any distance -off. That I could have been at our old church in my old -churchgoing clothes, on the very last Sunday that ever was, seemed -a combination of impossibilities, geographical and social, solar -and lunar. Yet in the London streets, so crowded with people and so -brilliantly lighted in the dusk of evening, there were depressing -hints of reproaches for that I had put the poor old kitchen at home -so far away and in the dead of night, the footsteps of some -incapable impostor of a porter mooning about Barnard's Inn, under -pretence of watching it, fell hollow on my heart. -On the Monday morning at a quarter before nine, Herbert went to the -countinghouse to report himself to look about him, too, I -suppose and I bore him company. He was to come away in an hour or -two to attend me to Hammersmith, and I was to wait about for him. -It appeared to me that the eggs from which young Insurers were -hatched, were incubated in dust and heat, like the eggs of -ostriches, judging from the places to which those incipient giants -repaired on a Monday morning. Nor did the countinghouse where -Herbert assisted, show in my eyes as at all a good Observatory -being a back second floor up a yard, of a grimy presence in all -particulars, and with a look into another back second floor, rather -than a look out. -I waited about until it was noon, and I went upon 'Change, and I -saw fluey men sitting there under the bills about shipping, whom I -took to be great merchants, though I couldn't understand why they -should all be out of spirits. When Herbert came, we went and had -lunch at a celebrated house which I then quite venerated, but now -believe to have been the most abject superstition in Europe, and -where I could not help noticing, even then, that there was much -more gravy on the tablecloths and knives and waiters' clothes, than -in the steaks. This collation disposed of at a moderate price -considering the grease which was not charged for, we went back -to Barnard's Inn and got my little portmanteau, and then took coach -for Hammersmith. We arrived there at two or three o'clock in the -afternoon, and had very little way to walk to Mr. Pocket's house. -Lifting the latch of a gate, we passed direct into a little garden -overlooking the river, where Mr. Pocket's children were playing -about. And unless I deceive myself on a point where my interests or -prepossessions are certainly not concerned, I saw that Mr. and Mrs. -Pocket's children were not growing up or being brought up, but were -tumbling up. -Mrs. Pocket was sitting on a garden chair under a tree, reading, -with her legs upon another garden chair and Mrs. Pocket's two -nursemaids were looking about them while the children played. -"Mamma," said Herbert, "this is young Mr. Pip." Upon which Mrs. -Pocket received me with an appearance of amiable dignity. -"Master Alick and Miss Jane," cried one of the nurses to two of the -children, "if you go abouncing up against them bushes you'll fall -over into the river and be drownded, and what'll your pa say then?" -At the same time this nurse picked up Mrs. Pocket's handkerchief, -and said, "If that don't make six times you've dropped it, Mum" -Upon which Mrs. Pocket laughed and said, "Thank you, Flopson," and -settling herself in one chair only, resumed her book. Her -countenance immediately assumed a knitted and intent expression as -if she had been reading for a week, but before she could have read -half a dozen lines, she fixed her eyes upon me, and said, "I hope -your mamma is quite well?" This unexpected inquiry put me into such -a difficulty that I began saying in the absurdest way that if there -had been any such person I had no doubt she would have been quite -well and would have been very much obliged and would have sent her -compliments, when the nurse came to my rescue. -"Well" she cried, picking up the pocket handkerchief, "if that -don't make seven times What ARE you adoing of this afternoon, -Mum" Mrs. Pocket received her property, at first with a look of -unutterable surprise as if she had never seen it before, and then -with a laugh of recognition, and said, "Thank you, Flopson," and -forgot me, and went on reading. -I found, now I had leisure to count them, that there were no fewer -than six little Pockets present, in various stages of tumbling up. -I had scarcely arrived at the total when a seventh was heard, as in -the region of air, wailing dolefully. -"If there ain't Baby" said Flopson, appearing to think it most -surprising. "Make haste up, Millers." -Millers, who was the other nurse, retired into the house, and by -degrees the child's wailing was hushed and stopped, as if it were a -young ventriloquist with something in its mouth. Mrs. Pocket read -all the time, and I was curious to know what the book could be. -We were waiting, I supposed, for Mr. Pocket to come out to us at -any rate we waited there, and so I had an opportunity of observing -the remarkable family phenomenon that whenever any of the children -strayed near Mrs. Pocket in their play, they always tripped -themselves up and tumbled over her always very much to her -momentary astonishment, and their own more enduring lamentation. I -was at a loss to account for this surprising circumstance, and -could not help giving my mind to speculations about it, until -byandby Millers came down with the baby, which baby was handed to -Flopson, which Flopson was handing it to Mrs. Pocket, when she too -went fairly head foremost over Mrs. Pocket, baby and all, and was -caught by Herbert and myself. -"Gracious me, Flopson" said Mrs. Pocket, looking off her book for a -moment, "everybody's tumbling" -"Gracious you, indeed, Mum" returned Flopson, very red in the -face "what have you got there?" -"I got here, Flopson?" asked Mrs. Pocket. -"Why, if it ain't your footstool" cried Flopson. "And if you keep -it under your skirts like that, who's to help tumbling? Here Take -the baby, Mum, and give me your book." -Mrs. Pocket acted on the advice, and inexpertly danced the infant a -little in her lap, while the other children played about it. This -had lasted but a very short time, when Mrs. Pocket issued summary -orders that they were all to be taken into the house for a nap. -Thus I made the second discovery on that first occasion, that the -nurture of the little Pockets consisted of alternately tumbling up -and lying down. -Under these circumstances, when Flopson and Millers had got the -children into the house, like a little flock of sheep, and Mr. -Pocket came out of it to make my acquaintance, I was not much -surprised to find that Mr. Pocket was a gentleman with a rather -perplexed expression of face, and with his very grey hair -disordered on his head, as if he didn't quite see his way to -putting anything straight. -Chapter -Mr. Pocket said he was glad to see me, and he hoped I was not sorry -to see him. "For, I really am not," he added, with his son's smile, -"an alarming personage." He was a younglooking man, in spite of -his perplexities and his very grey hair, and his manner seemed -quite natural. I use the word natural, in the sense of its being -unaffected there was something comic in his distraught way, as -though it would have been downright ludicrous but for his own -perception that it was very near being so. When he had talked with -me a little, he said to Mrs. Pocket, with a rather anxious -contraction of his eyebrows, which were black and handsome, -"Belinda, I hope you have welcomed Mr. Pip?" And she looked up from -her book, and said, "Yes." She then smiled upon me in an absent -state of mind, and asked me if I liked the taste of orangeflower -water? As the question had no bearing, near or remote, on any -foregone or subsequent transaction, I consider it to have been -thrown out, like her previous approaches, in general conversational -condescension. -I found out within a few hours, and may mention at once, that Mrs. -Pocket was the only daughter of a certain quite accidental deceased -Knight, who had invented for himself a conviction that his deceased -father would have been made a Baronet but for somebody's determined -opposition arising out of entirely personal motives I forget -whose, if I ever knew the Sovereign's, the Prime Minister's, the -Lord Chancellor's, the Archbishop of Canterbury's, anybody's and -had tacked himself on to the nobles of the earth in right of this -quite supposititious fact. I believe he had been knighted himself -for storming the English grammar at the point of the pen, in a -desperate address engrossed on vellum, on the occasion of the -laying of the first stone of some building or other, and for -handing some Royal Personage either the trowel or the mortar. Be -that as it may, he had directed Mrs. Pocket to be brought up from -her cradle as one who in the nature of things must marry a title, -and who was to be guarded from the acquisition of plebeian domestic -knowledge. -So successful a watch and ward had been established over the young -lady by this judicious parent, that she had grown up highly -ornamental, but perfectly helpless and useless. With her character -thus happily formed, in the first bloom of her youth she had -encountered Mr. Pocket who was also in the first bloom of youth, -and not quite decided whether to mount to the Woolsack, or to roof -himself in with a mitre. As his doing the one or the other was a -mere question of time, he and Mrs. Pocket had taken Time by the -forelock when, to judge from its length, it would seem to have -wanted cutting, and had married without the knowledge of the -judicious parent. The judicious parent, having nothing to bestow or -withhold but his blessing, had handsomely settled that dower upon -them after a short struggle, and had informed Mr. Pocket that his -wife was "a treasure for a Prince." Mr. Pocket had invested the -Prince's treasure in the ways of the world ever since, and it was -supposed to have brought him in but indifferent interest. Still, -Mrs. Pocket was in general the object of a queer sort of respectful -pity, because she had not married a title while Mr. Pocket was the -object of a queer sort of forgiving reproach, because he had never -got one. -Mr. Pocket took me into the house and showed me my room which was a -pleasant one, and so furnished as that I could use it with comfort -for my own private sittingroom. He then knocked at the doors of -two other similar rooms, and introduced me to their occupants, by -name Drummle and Startop. Drummle, an oldlooking young man of a -heavy order of architecture, was whistling. Startop, younger in -years and appearance, was reading and holding his head, as if he -thought himself in danger of exploding it with too strong a charge -of knowledge. -Both Mr. and Mrs. Pocket had such a noticeable air of being in -somebody else's hands, that I wondered who really was in possession -of the house and let them live there, until I found this unknown -power to be the servants. It was a smooth way of going on, perhaps, -in respect of saving trouble but it had the appearance of being -expensive, for the servants felt it a duty they owed to themselves -to be nice in their eating and drinking, and to keep a deal of -company down stairs. They allowed a very liberal table to Mr. and -Mrs. Pocket, yet it always appeared to me that by far the best part -of the house to have boarded in, would have been the kitchen -always supposing the boarder capable of selfdefence, for, before I -had been there a week, a neighbouring lady with whom the family -were personally unacquainted, wrote in to say that she had seen -Millers slapping the baby. This greatly distressed Mrs. Pocket, who -burst into tears on receiving the note, and said that it was an -extraordinary thing that the neighbours couldn't mind their own -business. -By degrees I learnt, and chiefly from Herbert, that Mr. Pocket had -been educated at Harrow and at Cambridge, where he had -distinguished himself but that when he had had the happiness of -marrying Mrs. Pocket very early in life, he had impaired his -prospects and taken up the calling of a Grinder. After grinding a -number of dull blades of whom it was remarkable that their -fathers, when influential, were always going to help him to -preferment, but always forgot to do it when the blades had left the -Grindstone he had wearied of that poor work and had come to -London. Here, after gradually failing in loftier hopes, he had -"read" with divers who had lacked opportunities or neglected them, -and had refurbished divers others for special occasions, and had -turned his acquirements to the account of literary compilation and -correction, and on such means, added to some very moderate private -resources, still maintained the house I saw. -Mr. and Mrs. Pocket had a toady neighbour a widow lady of that -highly sympathetic nature that she agreed with everybody, blessed -everybody, and shed smiles and tears on everybody, according to -circumstances. This lady's name was Mrs. Coiler, and I had the -honour of taking her down to dinner on the day of my installation. -She gave me to understand on the stairs, that it was a blow to dear -Mrs. Pocket that dear Mr. Pocket should be under the necessity of -receiving gentlemen to read with him. That did not extend to me, -she told me in a gush of love and confidence at that time, I had -known her something less than five minutes if they were all like -Me, it would be quite another thing. -"But dear Mrs. Pocket," said Mrs. Coiler, "after her early -disappointment not that dear Mr. Pocket was to blame in that, -requires so much luxury and elegance" -"Yes, ma'am," I said, to stop her, for I was afraid she was going -to cry. -"And she is of so aristocratic a disposition" -"Yes, ma'am," I said again, with the same object as before. -" that it is hard," said Mrs. Coiler, "to have dear Mr. Pocket's -time and attention diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket." -I could not help thinking that it might be harder if the butcher's -time and attention were diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket but I said -nothing, and indeed had enough to do in keeping a bashful watch -upon my companymanners. -It came to my knowledge, through what passed between Mrs. Pocket and -Drummle while I was attentive to my knife and fork, spoon, glasses, -and other instruments of selfdestruction, that Drummle, whose -Christian name was Bentley, was actually the next heir but one to a -baronetcy. It further appeared that the book I had seen Mrs. Pocket -reading in the garden, was all about titles, and that she knew the -exact date at which her grandpapa would have come into the book, if -he ever had come at all. Drummle didn't say much, but in his -limited way he struck me as a sulky kind of fellow he spoke as -one of the elect, and recognized Mrs. Pocket as a woman and a -sister. No one but themselves and Mrs. Coiler the toady neighbour -showed any interest in this part of the conversation, and it -appeared to me that it was painful to Herbert but it promised to -last a long time, when the page came in with the announcement of a -domestic affliction. It was, in effect, that the cook had mislaid -the beef. To my unutterable amazement, I now, for the first time, -saw Mr. Pocket relieve his mind by going through a performance that -struck me as very extraordinary, but which made no impression on -anybody else, and with which I soon became as familiar as the rest. -He laid down the carvingknife and fork being engaged in carving, -at the moment put his two hands into his disturbed hair, and -appeared to make an extraordinary effort to lift himself up by it. -When he had done this, and had not lifted himself up at all, he -quietly went on with what he was about. -Mrs. Coiler then changed the subject, and began to flatter me. I -liked it for a few moments, but she flattered me so very grossly -that the pleasure was soon over. She had a serpentine way of coming -close at me when she pretended to be vitally interested in the -friends and localities I had left, which was altogether snaky and -forktongued and when she made an occasional bounce upon Startop -who said very little to her, or upon Drummle who said less, I -rather envied them for being on the opposite side of the table. -After dinner the children were introduced, and Mrs. Coiler made -admiring comments on their eyes, noses, and legs a sagacious way -of improving their minds. There were four little girls, and two -little boys, besides the baby who might have been either, and the -baby's next successor who was as yet neither. They were brought in -by Flopson and Millers, much as though those two noncommissioned -officers had been recruiting somewhere for children and had -enlisted these while Mrs. Pocket looked at the young Nobles that -ought to have been, as if she rather thought she had had the -pleasure of inspecting them before, but didn't quite know what to -make of them. -"Here Give me your fork, Mum, and take the baby," said Flopson. -"Don't take it that way, or you'll get its head under the table." -Thus advised, Mrs. Pocket took it the other way, and got its head -upon the table which was announced to all present by a prodigious -concussion. -"Dear, dear Give it me back, Mum," said Flopson "and Miss Jane, -come and dance to baby, do" -One of the little girls, a mere mite who seemed to have prematurely -taken upon herself some charge of the others, stepped out of her -place by me, and danced to and from the baby until it left off -crying, and laughed. Then, all the children laughed, and Mr. Pocket -who in the meantime had twice endeavoured to lift himself up by -the hair laughed, and we all laughed and were glad. -Flopson, by dint of doubling the baby at the joints like a Dutch -doll, then got it safely into Mrs. Pocket's lap, and gave it the -nutcrackers to play with at the same time recommending Mrs. Pocket -to take notice that the handles of that instrument were not likely -to agree with its eyes, and sharply charging Miss Jane to look -after the same. Then, the two nurses left the room, and had a -lively scuffle on the staircase with a dissipated page who had -waited at dinner, and who had clearly lost half his buttons at the -gamingtable. -I was made very uneasy in my mind by Mrs. Pocket's falling into a -discussion with Drummle respecting two baronetcies, while she ate a -sliced orange steeped in sugar and wine, and forgetting all about -the baby on her lap who did most appalling things with the -nutcrackers. At length, little Jane perceiving its young brains to -be imperilled, softly left her place, and with many small artifices -coaxed the dangerous weapon away. Mrs. Pocket finishing her orange -at about the same time, and not approving of this, said to Jane -"You naughty child, how dare you? Go and sit down this instant" -"Mamma dear," lisped the little girl, "baby ood have put hith eyeth -out." -"How dare you tell me so?" retorted Mrs. Pocket. "Go and sit down in -your chair this moment" -Mrs. Pocket's dignity was so crushing, that I felt quite abashed as -if I myself had done something to rouse it. -"Belinda," remonstrated Mr. Pocket, from the other end of the table, -"how can you be so unreasonable? Jane only interfered for the -protection of baby." -"I will not allow anybody to interfere," said Mrs. Pocket. "I am -surprised, Matthew, that you should expose me to the affront of -interference." -"Good God" cried Mr. Pocket, in an outbreak of desolate -desperation. "Are infants to be nutcrackered into their tombs, and -is nobody to save them?" -"I will not be interfered with by Jane," said Mrs. Pocket, with a -majestic glance at that innocent little offender. "I hope I know my -poor grandpapa's position. Jane, indeed" -Mr. Pocket got his hands in his hair again, and this time really did -lift himself some inches out of his chair. "Hear this" he -helplessly exclaimed to the elements. "Babies are to be -nutcrackered dead, for people's poor grandpapa's positions" Then -he let himself down again, and became silent. -We all looked awkwardly at the tablecloth while this was going on. -A pause succeeded, during which the honest and irrepressible baby -made a series of leaps and crows at little Jane, who appeared to me -to be the only member of the family irrespective of servants with -whom it had any decided acquaintance. -"Mr. Drummle," said Mrs. Pocket, "will you ring for Flopson? Jane, -you undutiful little thing, go and lie down. Now, baby darling, -come with ma" -The baby was the soul of honour, and protested with all its might. -It doubled itself up the wrong way over Mrs. Pocket's arm, exhibited -a pair of knitted shoes and dimpled ankles to the company in lieu -of its soft face, and was carried out in the highest state of -mutiny. And it gained its point after all, for I saw it through the -window within a few minutes, being nursed by little Jane. -It happened that the other five children were left behind at the -dinnertable, through Flopson's having some private engagement, and -their not being anybody else's business. I thus became aware of the -mutual relations between them and Mr. Pocket, which were exemplified -in the following manner. Mr. Pocket, with the normal perplexity of -his face heightened and his hair rumpled, looked at them for some -minutes, as if he couldn't make out how they came to be boarding -and lodging in that establishment, and why they hadn't been -billeted by Nature on somebody else. Then, in a distant, Missionary -way he asked them certain questions as why little Joe had that -hole in his frill who said, Pa, Flopson was going to mend it when -she had time and how little Fanny came by that whitlow who said, -Pa, Millers was going to poultice it when she didn't forget. Then, -he melted into parental tenderness, and gave them a shilling apiece -and told them to go and play and then as they went out, with one -very strong effort to lift himself up by the hair he dismissed the -hopeless subject. -In the evening there was rowing on the river. As Drummle and -Startop had each a boat, I resolved to set up mine, and to cut them -both out. I was pretty good at most exercises in which countryboys -are adepts, but, as I was conscious of wanting elegance of style -for the Thames not to say for other waters I at once engaged to -place myself under the tuition of the winner of a prizewherry who -plied at our stairs, and to whom I was introduced by my new allies. -This practical authority confused me very much, by saying I had the -arm of a blacksmith. If he could have known how nearly the -compliment lost him his pupil, I doubt if he would have paid it. -There was a suppertray after we got home at night, and I think we -should all have enjoyed ourselves, but for a rather disagreeable -domestic occurrence. Mr. Pocket was in good spirits, when a -housemaid came in, and said, "If you please, sir, I should wish to -speak to you." -"Speak to your master?" said Mrs. Pocket, whose dignity was roused -again. "How can you think of such a thing? Go and speak to Flopson. -Or speak to me at some other time." -"Begging your pardon, ma'am," returned the housemaid, "I should -wish to speak at once, and to speak to master." -Hereupon, Mr. Pocket went out of the room, and we made the best of -ourselves until he came back. -"This is a pretty thing, Belinda" said Mr. Pocket, returning with a -countenance expressive of grief and despair. "Here's the cook lying -insensibly drunk on the kitchen floor, with a large bundle of fresh -butter made up in the cupboard ready to sell for grease" -Mrs. Pocket instantly showed much amiable emotion, and said, "This -is that odious Sophia's doing" -"What do you mean, Belinda?" demanded Mr. Pocket. -"Sophia has told you," said Mrs. Pocket. "Did I not see her with my -own eyes and hear her with my own ears, come into the room just now -and ask to speak to you?" -"But has she not taken me down stairs, Belinda," returned Mr. -Pocket, "and shown me the woman, and the bundle too?" -"And do you defend her, Matthew," said Mrs. Pocket, "for making -mischief?" -Mr. Pocket uttered a dismal groan. -"Am I, grandpapa's granddaughter, to be nothing in the house?" said -Mrs. Pocket. "Besides, the cook has always been a very nice -respectful woman, and said in the most natural manner when she came -to look after the situation, that she felt I was born to be a -Duchess." -There was a sofa where Mr. Pocket stood, and he dropped upon it in -the attitude of the Dying Gladiator. Still in that attitude he -said, with a hollow voice, "Good night, Mr. Pip," when I deemed it -advisable to go to bed and leave him. -Chapter -After two or three days, when I had established myself in my room -and had gone backwards and forwards to London several times, and -had ordered all I wanted of my tradesmen, Mr. Pocket and I had a -long talk together. He knew more of my intended career than I knew -myself, for he referred to his having been told by Mr. Jaggers that -I was not designed for any profession, and that I should be well -enough educated for my destiny if I could "hold my own" with the -average of young men in prosperous circumstances. I acquiesced, of -course, knowing nothing to the contrary. -He advised my attending certain places in London, for the -acquisition of such mere rudiments as I wanted, and my investing -him with the functions of explainer and director of all my studies. -He hoped that with intelligent assistance I should meet with little -to discourage me, and should soon be able to dispense with any aid -but his. Through his way of saying this, and much more to similar -purpose, he placed himself on confidential terms with me in an -admirable manner and I may state at once that he was always so -zealous and honourable in fulfilling his compact with me, that he -made me zealous and honourable in fulfilling mine with him. If he -had shown indifference as a master, I have no doubt I should have -returned the compliment as a pupil he gave me no such excuse, and -each of us did the other justice. Nor, did I ever regard him as -having anything ludicrous about him or anything but what was -serious, honest, and good in his tutor communication with me. -When these points were settled, and so far carried out as that I -had begun to work in earnest, it occurred to me that if I could -retain my bedroom in Barnard's Inn, my life would be agreeably -varied, while my manners would be none the worse for Herbert's -society. Mr. Pocket did not object to this arrangement, but urged -that before any step could possibly be taken in it, it must be -submitted to my guardian. I felt that this delicacy arose out of -the consideration that the plan would save Herbert some expense, so -I went off to Little Britain and imparted my wish to Mr. Jaggers. -"If I could buy the furniture now hired for me," said I, "and one -or two other little things, I should be quite at home there." -"Go it" said Mr. Jaggers, with a short laugh. "I told you you'd get -on. Well How much do you want?" -I said I didn't know how much. -"Come" retorted Mr. Jaggers. "How much? Fifty pounds?" -"Oh, not nearly so much." -"Five pounds?" said Mr. Jaggers. -This was such a great fall, that I said in discomfiture, "Oh more -than that." -"More than that, eh" retorted Mr. Jaggers, lying in wait for me, -with his hands in his pockets, his head on one side, and his eyes -on the wall behind me "how much more?" -"It is so difficult to fix a sum," said I, hesitating. -"Come" said Mr. Jaggers. "Let's get at it. Twice five will that -do? Three times five will that do? Four times five will that do?" -I said I thought that would do handsomely. -"Four times five will do handsomely, will it?" said Mr. Jaggers, -knitting his brows. "Now, what do you make of four times five?" -"What do I make of it?" -"Ah" said Mr. Jaggers "how much?" -"I suppose you make it twenty pounds," said I, smiling. -"Never mind what I make it, my friend," observed Mr. Jaggers, with a -knowing and contradictory toss of his head. "I want to know what -you make it." -"Twenty pounds, of course." -"Wemmick" said Mr. Jaggers, opening his office door. "Take Mr. Pip's -written order, and pay him twenty pounds." -This strongly marked way of doing business made a strongly marked -impression on me, and that not of an agreeable kind. Mr. Jaggers -never laughed but he wore great bright creaking boots, and, in -poising himself on these boots, with his large head bent down and -his eyebrows joined together, awaiting an answer, he sometimes -caused the boots to creak, as if they laughed in a dry and -suspicious way. As he happened to go out now, and as Wemmick was -brisk and talkative, I said to Wemmick that I hardly knew what to -make of Mr. Jaggers's manner. -"Tell him that, and he'll take it as a compliment," answered -Wemmick "he don't mean that you should know what to make of it. -Oh" for I looked surprised, "it's not personal it's professional -only professional." -Wemmick was at his desk, lunching and crunching on a dry hard -biscuit pieces of which he threw from time to time into his slit -of a mouth, as if he were posting them. -"Always seems to me," said Wemmick, "as if he had set a mantrap and -was watching it. Suddenly click you're caught" -Without remarking that mantraps were not among the amenities of -life, I said I supposed he was very skilful? -"Deep," said Wemmick, "as Australia." Pointing with his pen at the -office floor, to express that Australia was understood, for the -purposes of the figure, to be symmetrically on the opposite spot of -the globe. "If there was anything deeper," added Wemmick, bringing -his pen to paper, "he'd be it." -Then, I said I supposed he had a fine business, and Wemmick said, -"Capital" Then I asked if there were many clerks? to which he -replied -"We don't run much into clerks, because there's only one Jaggers, -and people won't have him at secondhand. There are only four of -us. Would you like to see 'em? You are one of us, as I may say." -I accepted the offer. When Mr. Wemmick had put all the biscuit into -the post, and had paid me my money from a cashbox in a safe, the -key of which safe he kept somewhere down his back and produced from -his coatcollar like an iron pigtail, we went upstairs. The house -was dark and shabby, and the greasy shoulders that had left their -mark in Mr. Jaggers's room, seemed to have been shuffling up and -down the staircase for years. In the front first floor, a clerk who -looked something between a publican and a ratcatcher a large -pale puffed swollen man was attentively engaged with three or -four people of shabby appearance, whom he treated as -unceremoniously as everybody seemed to be treated who contributed -to Mr. Jaggers's coffers. "Getting evidence together," said Mr. -Wemmick, as we came out, "for the Bailey." -In the room over that, a little flabby terrier of a clerk with -dangling hair his cropping seemed to have been forgotten when he -was a puppy was similarly engaged with a man with weak eyes, whom -Mr. Wemmick presented to me as a smelter who kept his pot always -boiling, and who would melt me anything I pleased and who was in -an excessive whiteperspiration, as if he had been trying his art on -himself. In a back room, a highshouldered man with a faceache tied -up in dirty flannel, who was dressed in old black clothes that bore -the appearance of having been waxed, was stooping over his work of -making fair copies of the notes of the other two gentlemen, for Mr. -Jaggers's own use. -This was all the establishment. When we went downstairs again, -Wemmick led me into my guardian's room, and said, "This you've seen -already." -"Pray," said I, as the two odious casts with the twitchy leer upon -them caught my sight again, "whose likenesses are those?" -"These?" said Wemmick, getting upon a chair, and blowing the dust -off the horrible heads before bringing them down. "These are two -celebrated ones. Famous clients of ours that got us a world of -credit. This chap why you must have come down in the night and -been peeping into the inkstand, to get this blot upon your eyebrow, -you old rascal murdered his master, and, considering that he -wasn't brought up to evidence, didn't plan it badly." -"Is it like him?" I asked, recoiling from the brute, as Wemmick -spat upon his eyebrow and gave it a rub with his sleeve. -"Like him? It's himself, you know. The cast was made in Newgate, -directly after he was taken down. You had a particular fancy for -me, hadn't you, Old Artful?" said Wemmick. He then explained this -affectionate apostrophe, by touching his brooch representing the -lady and the weeping willow at the tomb with the urn upon it, and -saying, "Had it made for me, express" -"Is the lady anybody?" said I. -"No," returned Wemmick. "Only his game. You liked your bit of -game, didn't you? No deuce a bit of a lady in the case, Mr. Pip, -except one and she wasn't of this slender ladylike sort, and you -wouldn't have caught her looking after this urn unless there was -something to drink in it." Wemmick's attention being thus directed -to his brooch, he put down the cast, and polished the brooch with -his pockethandkerchief. -"Did that other creature come to the same end?" I asked. "He has -the same look." -"You're right," said Wemmick "it's the genuine look. Much as if -one nostril was caught up with a horsehair and a little fishhook. -Yes, he came to the same end quite the natural end here, I assure -you. He forged wills, this blade did, if he didn't also put the -supposed testators to sleep too. You were a gentlemanly Cove, -though" Mr. Wemmick was again apostrophizing, "and you said you -could write Greek. Yah, Bounceable What a liar you were I never -met such a liar as you" Before putting his late friend on his -shelf again, Wemmick touched the largest of his mourning rings and -said, "Sent out to buy it for me, only the day before." -While he was putting up the other cast and coming down from the -chair, the thought crossed my mind that all his personal jewellery -was derived from like sources. As he had shown no diffidence on the -subject, I ventured on the liberty of asking him the question, when -he stood before me, dusting his hands. -"Oh yes," he returned, "these are all gifts of that kind. One -brings another, you see that's the way of it. I always take 'em. -They're curiosities. And they're property. They may not be worth -much, but, after all, they're property and portable. It don't -signify to you with your brilliant lookout, but as to myself, my -guidingstar always is, "Get hold of portable property"." -When I had rendered homage to this light, he went on to say, in a -friendly manner -"If at any odd time when you have nothing better to do, you -wouldn't mind coming over to see me at Walworth, I could offer you -a bed, and I should consider it an honour. I have not much to show -you but such two or three curiosities as I have got, you might -like to look over and I am fond of a bit of garden and a -summerhouse." -I said I should be delighted to accept his hospitality. -"Thankee," said he "then we'll consider that it's to come off, -when convenient to you. Have you dined with Mr. Jaggers yet?" -"Not yet." -"Well," said Wemmick, "he'll give you wine, and good wine. I'll -give you punch, and not bad punch. And now I'll tell you something. -When you go to dine with Mr. Jaggers, look at his housekeeper." -"Shall I see something very uncommon?" -"Well," said Wemmick, "you'll see a wild beast tamed. Not so very -uncommon, you'll tell me. I reply, that depends on the original -wildness of the beast, and the amount of taming. It won't lower -your opinion of Mr. Jaggers's powers. Keep your eye on it." -I told him I would do so, with all the interest and curiosity that -his preparation awakened. As I was taking my departure, he asked me -if I would like to devote five minutes to seeing Mr. Jaggers "at -it?" -For several reasons, and not least because I didn't clearly know -what Mr. Jaggers would be found to be "at," I replied in the -affirmative. We dived into the City, and came up in a crowded -policecourt, where a bloodrelation in the murderous sense of the -deceased with the fanciful taste in brooches, was standing at the -bar, uncomfortably chewing something while my guardian had a woman -under examination or crossexamination I don't know which and -was striking her, and the bench, and everybody present, with awe. -If anybody, of whatsoever degree, said a word that he didn't -approve of, he instantly required to have it "taken down." If -anybody wouldn't make an admission, he said, "I'll have it out of -you" and if anybody made an admission, he said, "Now I have got -you" the magistrates shivered under a single bite of his finger. -Thieves and thieftakers hung in dread rapture on his words, and -shrank when a hair of his eyebrows turned in their direction. Which -side he was on, I couldn't make out, for he seemed to me to be -grinding the whole place in a mill I only know that when I stole -out on tiptoe, he was not on the side of the bench for, he was -making the legs of the old gentleman who presided, quite convulsive -under the table, by his denunciations of his conduct as the -representative of British law and justice in that chair that day. -Chapter -Bentley Drummle, who was so sulky a fellow that he even took up a -book as if its writer had done him an injury, did not take up an -acquaintance in a more agreeable spirit. Heavy in figure, movement, -and comprehension in the sluggish complexion of his face, and in -the large awkward tongue that seemed to loll about in his mouth as -he himself lolled about in a room he was idle, proud, niggardly, -reserved, and suspicious. He came of rich people down in -Somersetshire, who had nursed this combination of qualities until -they made the discovery that it was just of age and a blockhead. -Thus, Bentley Drummle had come to Mr. Pocket when he was a head -taller than that gentleman, and half a dozen heads thicker than -most gentlemen. -Startop had been spoilt by a weak mother and kept at home when he -ought to have been at school, but he was devotedly attached to her, -and admired her beyond measure. He had a woman's delicacy of -feature, and was "as you may see, though you never saw her," said -Herbert to me exactly like his mother. It was but natural that I -should take to him much more kindly than to Drummle, and that, even -in the earliest evenings of our boating, he and I should pull -homeward abreast of one another, conversing from boat to boat, -while Bentley Drummle came up in our wake alone, under the -overhanging banks and among the rushes. He would always creep -inshore like some uncomfortable amphibious creature, even when the -tide would have sent him fast upon his way and I always think of -him as coming after us in the dark or by the backwater, when our -own two boats were breaking the sunset or the moonlight in -midstream. -Herbert was my intimate companion and friend. I presented him with -a halfshare in my boat, which was the occasion of his often coming -down to Hammersmith and my possession of a halfshare in his -chambers often took me up to London. We used to walk between the -two places at all hours. I have an affection for the road yet -though it is not so pleasant a road as it was then, formed in the -impressibility of untried youth and hope. -When I had been in Mr. Pocket's family a month or two, Mr. and Mrs. -Camilla turned up. Camilla was Mr. Pocket's sister. Georgiana, whom -I had seen at Miss Havisham's on the same occasion, also turned up. -she was a cousin an indigestive single woman, who called her -rigidity religion, and her liver love. These people hated me with -the hatred of cupidity and disappointment. As a matter of course, -they fawned upon me in my prosperity with the basest meanness. -Towards Mr. Pocket, as a grownup infant with no notion of his own -interests, they showed the complacent forbearance I had heard them -express. Mrs. Pocket they held in contempt but they allowed the -poor soul to have been heavily disappointed in life, because that -shed a feeble reflected light upon themselves. -These were the surroundings among which I settled down, and applied -myself to my education. I soon contracted expensive habits, and -began to spend an amount of money that within a few short months I -should have thought almost fabulous but through good and evil I -stuck to my books. There was no other merit in this, than my having -sense enough to feel my deficiencies. Between Mr. Pocket and Herbert -I got on fast and, with one or the other always at my elbow to -give me the start I wanted, and clear obstructions out of my road, -I must have been as great a dolt as Drummle if I had done less. -I had not seen Mr. Wemmick for some weeks, when I thought I would -write him a note and propose to go home with him on a certain -evening. He replied that it would give him much pleasure, and that -he would expect me at the office at six o'clock. Thither I went, -and there I found him, putting the key of his safe down his back as -the clock struck. -"Did you think of walking down to Walworth?" said he. -"Certainly," said I, "if you approve." -"Very much," was Wemmick's reply, "for I have had my legs under the -desk all day, and shall be glad to stretch them. Now, I'll tell you -what I have got for supper, Mr. Pip. I have got a stewed steak -which is of home preparation and a cold roast fowl which is -from the cook'sshop. I think it's tender, because the master of -the shop was a Juryman in some cases of ours the other day, and we -let him down easy. I reminded him of it when I bought the fowl, and -I said, "Pick us out a good one, old Briton, because if we had -chosen to keep you in the box another day or two, we could easily -have done it." He said to that, "Let me make you a present of the -best fowl in the shop." I let him, of course. As far as it goes, -it's property and portable. You don't object to an aged parent, I -hope?" -I really thought he was still speaking of the fowl, until he added, -"Because I have got an aged parent at my place." I then said what -politeness required. -"So, you haven't dined with Mr. Jaggers yet?" he pursued, as we -walked along. -"Not yet." -"He told me so this afternoon when he heard you were coming. I -expect you'll have an invitation tomorrow. He's going to ask your -pals, too. Three of 'em ain't there?" -Although I was not in the habit of counting Drummle as one of my -intimate associates, I answered, "Yes." -"Well, he's going to ask the whole gang" I hardly felt -complimented by the word "and whatever he gives you, he'll give -you good. Don't look forward to variety, but you'll have -excellence. And there'sa nother rum thing in his house," proceeded -Wemmick, after a moment's pause, as if the remark followed on the -housekeeper understood "he never lets a door or window be fastened -at night." -"Is he never robbed?" -"That's it" returned Wemmick. "He says, and gives it out publicly, -"I want to see the man who'll rob me." Lord bless you, I have heard -him, a hundred times if I have heard him once, say to regular -cracksmen in our front office, "You know where I live now, no bolt -is ever drawn there why don't you do a stroke of business with me? -Come can't I tempt you?" Not a man of them, sir, would be bold -enough to try it on, for love or money." -"They dread him so much?" said I. -"Dread him," said Wemmick. "I believe you they dread him. Not but -what he's artful, even in his defiance of them. No silver, sir. -Britannia metal, every spoon." -"So they wouldn't have much," I observed, "even if they" -"Ah But he would have much," said Wemmick, cutting me short, "and -they know it. He'd have their lives, and the lives of scores of -'em. He'd have all he could get. And it's impossible to say what he -couldn't get, if he gave his mind to it." -I was falling into meditation on my guardian's greatness, when -Wemmick remarked -"As to the absence of plate, that's only his natural depth, you -know. A river's its natural depth, and he's his natural depth. Look -at his watchchain. That's real enough." -"It's very massive," said I. -"Massive?" repeated Wemmick. "I think so. And his watch is a gold -repeater, and worth a hundred pound if it's worth a penny. Mr. Pip, -there are about seven hundred thieves in this town who know all -about that watch there's not a man, a woman, or a child, among -them, who wouldn't identify the smallest link in that chain, and -drop it as if it was redhot, if inveigled into touching it." -At first with such discourse, and afterwards with conversation of a -more general nature, did Mr. Wemmick and I beguile the time and the -road, until he gave me to understand that we had arrived in the -district of Walworth. -It appeared to be a collection of back lanes, ditches, and little -gardens, and to present the aspect of a rather dull retirement. -Wemmick's house was a little wooden cottage in the midst of plots -of garden, and the top of it was cut out and painted like a battery -mounted with guns. -"My own doing," said Wemmick. "Looks pretty don't it?" -I highly commended it, I think it was the smallest house I ever -saw with the queerest gothic windows by far the greater part of -them sham, and a gothic door, almost too small to get in at. -"That's a real flagstaff, you see," said Wemmick, "and on Sundays I -run up a real flag. Then look here. After I have crossed this -bridge, I hoist it up so and cut off the communication." -The bridge was a plank, and it crossed a chasm about four feet wide -and two deep. But it was very pleasant to see the pride with which -he hoisted it up and made it fast smiling as he did so, with a -relish and not merely mechanically. -"At nine o'clock every night, Greenwich time," said Wemmick, "the -gun fires. There he is, you see And when you hear him go, I think -you'll say he's a Stinger." -The piece of ordnance referred to, was mounted in a separate -fortress, constructed of latticework. It was protected from the -weather by an ingenious little tarpaulin contrivance in the nature -of an umbrella. -"Then, at the back," said Wemmick, "out of sight, so as not to -impede the idea of fortifications for it's a principle with me, -if you have an idea, carry it out and keep it up I don't know -whether that's your opinion" -I said, decidedly. -" At the back, there's a pig, and there are fowls and rabbits -then, I knock together my own little frame, you see, and grow -cucumbers and you'll judge at supper what sort of a salad I can -raise. So, sir," said Wemmick, smiling again, but seriously too, as -he shook his head, "if you can suppose the little place besieged, -it would hold out a devil of a time in point of provisions." -Then, he conducted me to a bower about a dozen yards off, but which -was approached by such ingenious twists of path that it took quite -a long time to get at and in this retreat our glasses were already -set forth. Our punch was cooling in an ornamental lake, on whose -margin the bower was raised. This piece of water with an island in -the middle which might have been the salad for supper was of a -circular form, and he had constructed a fountain in it, which, when -you set a little mill going and took a cork out of a pipe, played -to that powerful extent that it made the back of your hand quite -wet. -"I am my own engineer, and my own carpenter, and my own plumber, -and my own gardener, and my own Jack of all Trades," said Wemmick, -in acknowledging my compliments. "Well it's a good thing, you -know. It brushes the Newgate cobwebs away, and pleases the Aged. -You wouldn't mind being at once introduced to the Aged, would you? -It wouldn't put you out?" -I expressed the readiness I felt, and we went into the castle. -There, we found, sitting by a fire, a very old man in a flannel -coat clean, cheerful, comfortable, and well cared for, but -intensely deaf. -"Well aged parent," said Wemmick, shaking hands with him in a -cordial and jocose way, "how am you?" -"All right, John all right" replied the old man. -"Here's Mr. Pip, aged parent," said Wemmick, "and I wish you could -hear his name. Nod away at him, Mr. Pip that's what he likes. Nod -away at him, if you please, like winking" -"This is a fine place of my son's, sir," cried the old man, while I -nodded as hard as I possibly could. "This is a pretty -pleasureground, sir. This spot and these beautiful works upon it -ought to be kept together by the Nation, after my son's time, for -the people's enjoyment." -"You're as proud of it as Punch ain't you, Aged?" said Wemmick, -contemplating the old man, with his hard face really softened -"there's a nod for you" giving him a tremendous one "there's -another for you" giving him a still more tremendous one "you like -that, don't you? If you're not tired, Mr. Pip though I know it's -tiring to strangers will you tip him one more? You can't think -how it pleases him." -I tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him -bestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch -in the arbour where Wemmick told me as he smoked a pipe that it -had taken him a good many years to bring the property up to its -present pitch of perfection. -"Is it your own, Mr. Wemmick?" -"O yes," said Wemmick, "I have got hold of it, a bit at a time. -It's a freehold, by George" -"Is it, indeed? I hope Mr. Jaggers admires it?" -"Never seen it," said Wemmick. "Never heard of it. Never seen the -Aged. Never heard of him. No the office is one thing, and private -life is another. When I go into the office, I leave the Castle -behind me, and when I come into the Castle, I leave the office -behind me. If it's not in any way disagreeable to you, you'll -oblige me by doing the same. I don't wish it professionally spoken -about." -Of course I felt my good faith involved in the observance of his -request. The punch being very nice, we sat there drinking it and -talking, until it was almost nine o'clock. "Getting near gunfire," -said Wemmick then, as he laid down his pipe "it's the Aged's -treat." -Proceeding into the Castle again, we found the Aged heating the -poker, with expectant eyes, as a preliminary to the performance of -this great nightly ceremony. Wemmick stood with his watch in his -hand, until the moment was come for him to take the redhot poker -from the Aged, and repair to the battery. He took it, and went out, -and presently the Stinger went off with a Bang that shook the crazy -little box of a cottage as if it must fall to pieces, and made -every glass and teacup in it ring. Upon this, the Aged who I -believe would have been blown out of his armchair but for holding -on by the elbows cried out exultingly, "He's fired I heerd him" -and I nodded at the old gentleman until it is no figure of speech -to declare that I absolutely could not see him. -The interval between that time and supper, Wemmick devoted to -showing me his collection of curiosities. They were mostly of a -felonious character comprising the pen with which a celebrated -forgery had been committed, a distinguished razor or two, some -locks of hair, and several manuscript confessions written under -condemnation upon which Mr. Wemmick set particular value as being, -to use his own words, "every one of 'em Lies, sir." These were -agreeably dispersed among small specimens of china and glass, -various neat trifles made by the proprietor of the museum, and some -tobaccostoppers carved by the Aged. They were all displayed in -that chamber of the Castle into which I had been first inducted, -and which served, not only as the general sittingroom but as the -kitchen too, if I might judge from a saucepan on the hob, and a -brazen bijou over the fireplace designed for the suspension of a -roastingjack. -There was a neat little girl in attendance, who looked after the -Aged in the day. When she had laid the suppercloth, the bridge was -lowered to give her means of egress, and she withdrew for the -night. The supper was excellent and though the Castle was rather -subject to dryrot insomuch that it tasted like a bad nut, and -though the pig might have been farther off, I was heartily pleased -with my whole entertainment. Nor was there any drawback on my -little turret bedroom, beyond there being such a very thin ceiling -between me and the flagstaff, that when I lay down on my back in -bed, it seemed as if I had to balance that pole on my forehead all -night. -Wemmick was up early in the morning, and I am afraid I heard him -cleaning my boots. After that, he fell to gardening, and I saw him -from my gothic window pretending to employ the Aged, and nodding at -him in a most devoted manner. Our breakfast was as good as the -supper, and at halfpast eight precisely we started for Little -Britain. By degrees, Wemmick got dryer and harder as we went along, -and his mouth tightened into a postoffice again. At last, when we -got to his place of business and he pulled out his key from his -coatcollar, he looked as unconscious of his Walworth property as -if the Castle and the drawbridge and the arbour and the lake and -the fountain and the Aged, had all been blown into space together -by the last discharge of the Stinger. -Chapter -It fell out as Wemmick had told me it would, that I had an early -opportunity of comparing my guardian's establishment with that of -his cashier and clerk. My guardian was in his room, washing his -hands with his scented soap, when I went into the office from -Walworth and he called me to him, and gave me the invitation for -myself and friends which Wemmick had prepared me to receive. "No -ceremony," he stipulated, "and no dinner dress, and say tomorrow." -I asked him where we should come to for I had no idea where he -lived, and I believe it was in his general objection to make -anything like an admission, that he replied, "Come here, and I'll -take you home with me." I embrace this opportunity of remarking -that he washed his clients off, as if he were a surgeon or a -dentist. He had a closet in his room, fitted up for the purpose, -which smelt of the scented soap like a perfumer's shop. It had an -unusually large jacktowel on a roller inside the door, and he -would wash his hands, and wipe them and dry them all over this -towel, whenever he came in from a policecourt or dismissed a -client from his room. When I and my friends repaired to him at six -o'clock next day, he seemed to have been engaged on a case of a -darker complexion than usual, for, we found him with his head -butted into this closet, not only washing his hands, but laving his -face and gargling his throat. And even when he had done all that, -and had gone all round the jacktowel, he took out his penknife and -scraped the case out of his nails before he put his coat on. -There were some people slinking about as usual when we passed out -into the street, who were evidently anxious to speak with him but -there was something so conclusive in the halo of scented soap which -encircled his presence, that they gave it up for that day. As we -walked along westward, he was recognized ever and again by some -face in the crowd of the streets, and whenever that happened he -talked louder to me but he never otherwise recognized anybody, or -took notice that anybody recognized him. -He conducted us to Gerrardstreet, Soho, to a house on the south -side of that street. Rather a stately house of its kind, but -dolefully in want of painting, and with dirty windows. He took out -his key and opened the door, and we all went into a stone hall, -bare, gloomy, and little used. So, up a dark brown staircase into a -series of three dark brown rooms on the first floor. There were -carved garlands on the panelled walls, and as he stood among them -giving us welcome, I know what kind of loops I thought they looked -like. -Dinner was laid in the best of these rooms the second was his -dressingroom the third, his bedroom. He told us that he held the -whole house, but rarely used more of it than we saw. The table was -comfortably laid no silver in the service, of course and at the -side of his chair was a capacious dumbwaiter, with a variety of -bottles and decanters on it, and four dishes of fruit for dessert. -I noticed throughout, that he kept everything under his own hand, -and distributed everything himself. -There was a bookcase in the room I saw, from the backs of the -books, that they were about evidence, criminal law, criminal -biography, trials, acts of parliament, and such things. The -furniture was all very solid and good, like his watchchain. It had -an official look, however, and there was nothing merely ornamental -to be seen. In a corner, was a little table of papers with a shaded -lamp so that he seemed to bring the office home with him in that -respect too, and to wheel it out of an evening and fall to work. -As he had scarcely seen my three companions until now for, he and -I had walked together he stood on the hearthrug, after ringing -the bell, and took a searching look at them. To my surprise, he -seemed at once to be principally if not solely interested in -Drummle. -"Pip," said he, putting his large hand on my shoulder and moving me -to the window, "I don't know one from the other. Who's the Spider?" -"The spider?" said I. -"The blotchy, sprawly, sulky fellow." -"That's Bentley Drummle," I replied "the one with the delicate -face is Startop." -Not making the least account of "the one with the delicate face," -he returned, "Bentley Drummle is his name, is it? I like the look -of that fellow." -He immediately began to talk to Drummle not at all deterred by his -replying in his heavy reticent way, but apparently led on by it to -screw discourse out of him. I was looking at the two, when there -came between me and them, the housekeeper, with the first dish for -the table. -She was a woman of about forty, I supposed but I may have thought -her younger than she was. Rather tall, of a lithe nimble figure, -extremely pale, with large faded eyes, and a quantity of streaming -hair. I cannot say whether any diseased affection of the heart -caused her lips to be parted as if she were panting, and her face -to bear a curious expression of suddenness and flutter but I know -that I had been to see Macbeth at the theatre, a night or two -before, and that her face looked to me as if it were all disturbed -by fiery air, like the faces I had seen rise out of the Witches' -caldron. -She set the dish on, touched my guardian quietly on the arm with a -finger to notify that dinner was ready, and vanished. We took our -seats at the round table, and my guardian kept Drummle on one side -of him, while Startop sat on the other. It was a noble dish of fish -that the housekeeper had put on table, and we had a joint of -equally choice mutton afterwards, and then an equally choice bird. -Sauces, wines, all the accessories we wanted, and all of the best, -were given out by our host from his dumbwaiter and when they had -made the circuit of the table, he always put them back again. -Similarly, he dealt us clean plates and knives and forks, for each -course, and dropped those just disused into two baskets on the -ground by his chair. No other attendant than the housekeeper -appeared. She set on every dish and I always saw in her face, a -face rising out of the caldron. Years afterwards, I made a dreadful -likeness of that woman, by causing a face that had no other natural -resemblance to it than it derived from flowing hair, to pass behind -a bowl of flaming spirits in a dark room. -Induced to take particular notice of the housekeeper, both by her -own striking appearance and by Wemmick's preparation, I observed -that whenever she was in the room, she kept her eyes attentively on -my guardian, and that she would remove her hands from any dish she -put before him, hesitatingly, as if she dreaded his calling her -back, and wanted him to speak when she was nigh, if he had anything -to say. I fancied that I could detect in his manner a consciousness -of this, and a purpose of always holding her in suspense. -Dinner went off gaily, and, although my guardian seemed to follow -rather than originate subjects, I knew that he wrenched the weakest -part of our dispositions out of us. For myself, I found that I was -expressing my tendency to lavish expenditure, and to patronize -Herbert, and to boast of my great prospects, before I quite knew -that I had opened my lips. It was so with all of us, but with no -one more than Drummle the development of whose inclination to gird -in a grudging and suspicious way at the rest, was screwed out of -him before the fish was taken off. -It was not then, but when we had got to the cheese, that our -conversation turned upon our rowing feats, and that Drummle was -rallied for coming up behind of a night in that slow amphibious way -of his. Drummle upon this, informed our host that he much preferred -our room to our company, and that as to skill he was more than our -master, and that as to strength he could scatter us like chaff. By -some invisible agency, my guardian wound him up to a pitch little -short of ferocity about this trifle and he fell to baring and -spanning his arm to show how muscular it was, and we all fell to -baring and spanning our arms in a ridiculous manner. -Now, the housekeeper was at that time clearing the table my -guardian, taking no heed of her, but with the side of his face -turned from her, was leaning back in his chair biting the side of -his forefinger and showing an interest in Drummle, that, to me, was -quite inexplicable. Suddenly, he clapped his large hand on the -housekeeper's, like a trap, as she stretched it across the table. -So suddenly and smartly did he do this, that we all stopped in our -foolish contention. -"If you talk of strength," said Mr. Jaggers, "I'll show you a wrist. -Molly, let them see your wrist." -Her entrapped hand was on the table, but she had already put her -other hand behind her waist. "Master," she said, in a low voice, -with her eyes attentively and entreatingly fixed upon him. "Don't." -"I'll show you a wrist," repeated Mr. Jaggers, with an immovable -determination to show it. "Molly, let them see your wrist." -"Master," she again murmured. "Please" -"Molly," said Mr. Jaggers, not looking at her, but obstinately -looking at the opposite side of the room, "let them see both your -wrists. Show them. Come" -He took his hand from hers, and turned that wrist up on the table. -She brought her other hand from behind her, and held the two out -side by side. The last wrist was much disfigured deeply scarred -and scarred across and across. When she held her hands out, she -took her eyes from Mr. Jaggers, and turned them watchfully on every -one of the rest of us in succession. -"There's power here," said Mr. Jaggers, coolly tracing out the -sinews with his forefinger. "Very few men have the power of wrist -that this woman has. It's remarkable what mere force of grip there -is in these hands. I have had occasion to notice many hands but I -never saw stronger in that respect, man's or woman's, than these." -While he said these words in a leisurely critical style, she -continued to look at every one of us in regular succession as we -sat. The moment he ceased, she looked at him again. "That'll do, -Molly," said Mr. Jaggers, giving her a slight nod "you have been -admired, and can go." She withdrew her hands and went out of the -room, and Mr. Jaggers, putting the decanters on from his dumbwaiter, -filled his glass and passed round the wine. -"At halfpast nine, gentlemen," said he, "we must break up. Pray -make the best use of your time. I am glad to see you all. Mr. -Drummle, I drink to you." -If his object in singling out Drummle were to bring him out still -more, it perfectly succeeded. In a sulky triumph, Drummle showed -his morose depreciation of the rest of us, in a more and more -offensive degree until he became downright intolerable. Through all -his stages, Mr. Jaggers followed him with the same strange interest. -He actually seemed to serve as a zest to Mr. Jaggers's wine. -In our boyish want of discretion I dare say we took too much to -drink, and I know we talked too much. We became particularly hot -upon some boorish sneer of Drummle's, to the effect that we were -too free with our money. It led to my remarking, with more zeal -than discretion, that it came with a bad grace from him, to whom -Startop had lent money in my presence but a week or so before. -"Well," retorted Drummle "he'll be paid." -"I don't mean to imply that he won't," said I, "but it might make -you hold your tongue about us and our money, I should think." -"You should think" retorted Drummle. "Oh Lord" -"I dare say," I went on, meaning to be very severe, "that you -wouldn't lend money to any of us, if we wanted it." -"You are right," said Drummle. "I wouldn't lend one of you a -sixpence. I wouldn't lend anybody a sixpence." -"Rather mean to borrow under those circumstances, I should say." -"You should say," repeated Drummle. "Oh Lord" -This was so very aggravating the more especially as I found -myself making no way against his surly obtuseness that I said, -disregarding Herbert's efforts to check me -"Come, Mr. Drummle, since we are on the subject, I'll tell you what -passed between Herbert here and me, when you borrowed that money." -"I don't want to know what passed between Herbert there and you," -growled Drummle. And I think he added in a lower growl, that we -might both go to the devil and shake ourselves. -"I'll tell you, however," said I, "whether you want to know or not. -We said that as you put it in your pocket very glad to get it, you -seemed to be immensely amused at his being so weak as to lend it." -Drummle laughed outright, and sat laughing in our faces, with his -hands in his pockets and his round shoulders raised plainly -signifying that it was quite true, and that he despised us, as -asses all. -Hereupon Startop took him in hand, though with a much better grace -than I had shown, and exhorted him to be a little more agreeable. -Startop, being a lively bright young fellow, and Drummle being the -exact opposite, the latter was always disposed to resent him as a -direct personal affront. He now retorted in a coarse lumpish way, -and Startop tried to turn the discussion aside with some small -pleasantry that made us all laugh. Resenting this little success -more than anything, Drummle, without any threat or warning, pulled -his hands out of his pockets, dropped his round shoulders, swore, -took up a large glass, and would have flung it at his adversary's -head, but for our entertainer's dexterously seizing it at the -instant when it was raised for that purpose. -"Gentlemen," said Mr. Jaggers, deliberately putting down the glass, -and hauling out his gold repeater by its massive chain, "I am -exceedingly sorry to announce that it's halfpast nine." -On this hint we all rose to depart. Before we got to the street -door, Startop was cheerily calling Drummle "old boy," as if nothing -had happened. But the old boy was so far from responding, that he -would not even walk to Hammersmith on the same side of the way so, -Herbert and I, who remained in town, saw them going down the street -on opposite sides Startop leading, and Drummle lagging behind in -the shadow of the houses, much as he was wont to follow in his -boat. -As the door was not yet shut, I thought I would leave Herbert there -for a moment, and run upstairs again to say a word to my guardian. -I found him in his dressingroom surrounded by his stock of boots, -already hard at it, washing his hands of us. -I told him I had come up again to say how sorry I was that anything -disagreeable should have occurred, and that I hoped he would not -blame me much. -"Pooh" said he, sluicing his face, and speaking through the -waterdrops "it's nothing, Pip. I like that Spider though." -He had turned towards me now, and was shaking his head, and -blowing, and towelling himself. -"I am glad you like him, sir," said I "but I don't." -"No, no," my guardian assented "don't have too much to do with -him. Keep as clear of him as you can. But I like the fellow, Pip -he is one of the true sort. Why, if I was a fortuneteller" -Looking out of the towel, he caught my eye. -"But I am not a fortuneteller," he said, letting his head drop -into a festoon of towel, and towelling away at his two ears. "You -know what I am, don't you? Goodnight, Pip." -"Goodnight, sir." -In about a month after that, the Spider's time with Mr. Pocket was -up for good, and, to the great relief of all the house but Mrs. -Pocket, he went home to the family hole. -Chapter -"MY DEAR MR PIP, -"I write this by request of Mr. Gargery, for to let you know that he -is going to London in company with Mr. Wopsle and would be glad if -agreeable to be allowed to see you. He would call at Barnard's -Hotel Tuesday morning o'clock, when if not agreeable please -leave word. Your poor sister is much the same as when you left. We -talk of you in the kitchen every night, and wonder what you are -saying and doing. If now considered in the light of a liberty, -excuse it for the love of poor old days. No more, dear Mr. Pip, from -"Your ever obliged, and affectionate servant, -"BIDDY." -"P.S. He wishes me most particular to write what larks. He says you -will understand. I hope and do not doubt it will be agreeable to -see him even though a gentleman, for you had ever a good heart, and -he is a worthy worthy man. I have read him all excepting only the -last little sentence, and he wishes me most particular to write -again what larks." -I received this letter by the post on Monday morning, and therefore -its appointment was for next day. Let me confess exactly, with what -feelings I looked forward to Joe's coming. -Not with pleasure, though I was bound to him by so many ties no -with considerable disturbance, some mortification, and a keen sense -of incongruity. If I could have kept him away by paying money, I -certainly would have paid money. My greatest reassurance was, that -he was coming to Barnard's Inn, not to Hammersmith, and -consequently would not fall in Bentley Drummle's way. I had little -objection to his being seen by Herbert or his father, for both of -whom I had a respect but I had the sharpest sensitiveness as to -his being seen by Drummle, whom I held in contempt. So, throughout -life, our worst weaknesses and meannesses are usually committed for -the sake of the people whom we most despise. -I had begun to be always decorating the chambers in some quite -unnecessary and inappropriate way or other, and very expensive -those wrestles with Barnard proved to be. By this time, the rooms -were vastly different from what I had found them, and I enjoyed the -honour of occupying a few prominent pages in the books of a -neighbouring upholsterer. I had got on so fast of late, that I had -even started a boy in boots top boots in bondage and slavery to -whom I might have been said to pass my days. For, after I had made -the monster out of the refuse of my washerwoman's family and had -clothed him with a blue coat, canary waistcoat, white cravat, -creamy breeches, and the boots already mentioned, I had to find him -a little to do and a great deal to eat and with both of those -horrible requirements he haunted my existence. -This avenging phantom was ordered to be on duty at eight on Tuesday -morning in the hall it was two feet square, as charged for -floorcloth, and Herbert suggested certain things for breakfast -that he thought Joe would like. While I felt sincerely obliged to -him for being so interested and considerate, I had an odd -halfprovoked sense of suspicion upon me, that if Joe had been -coming to see him, he wouldn't have been quite so brisk about it. -However, I came into town on the Monday night to be ready for Joe, -and I got up early in the morning, and caused the sittingroom and -breakfasttable to assume their most splendid appearance. -Unfortunately the morning was drizzly, and an angel could not have -concealed the fact that Barnard was shedding sooty tears outside the -window, like some weak giant of a Sweep. -As the time approached I should have liked to run away, but the -Avenger pursuant to orders was in the hall, and presently I heard -Joe on the staircase. I knew it was Joe, by his clumsy manner of -coming upstairs his state boots being always too big for him -and by the time it took him to read the names on the other floors -in the course of his ascent. When at last he stopped outside our -door, I could hear his finger tracing over the painted letters of -my name, and I afterwards distinctly heard him breathing in at the -keyhole. Finally he gave a faint single rap, and Pepper such was -the compromising name of the avenging boy announced "Mr. Gargery" -I thought he never would have done wiping his feet, and that I must -have gone out to lift him off the mat, but at last he came in. -"Joe, how are you, Joe?" -"Pip, how AIR you, Pip?" -With his good honest face all glowing and shining, and his hat put -down on the floor between us, he caught both my hands and worked -them straight up and down, as if I had been the lastpatented Pump. -"I am glad to see you, Joe. Give me your hat." -But Joe, taking it up carefully with both hands, like a bird'snest -with eggs in it, wouldn't hear of parting with that piece of -property, and persisted in standing talking over it in a most -uncomfortable way. -"Which you have that growed," said Joe, "and that swelled, and that -gentlefolked" Joe considered a little before he discovered this -word "as to be sure you are a honour to your king and country." -"And you, Joe, look wonderfully well." -"Thank God," said Joe, "I'm ekerval to most. And your sister, she's -no worse than she were. And Biddy, she's ever right and ready. And -all friends is no backerder, if not no forarder. 'Ceptin Wopsle -he's had a drop." -All this time still with both hands taking great care of the -bird'snest, Joe was rolling his eyes round and round the room, -and round and round the flowered pattern of my dressinggown. -"Had a drop, Joe?" -"Why yes," said Joe, lowering his voice, "he's left the Church, and -went into the playacting. Which the playacting have likeways -brought him to London along with me. And his wish were," said Joe, -getting the bird'snest under his left arm for the moment and -groping in it for an egg with his right "if no offence, as I would -'and you that." -I took what Joe gave me, and found it to be the crumpled playbill -of a small metropolitan theatre, announcing the first appearance, -in that very week, of "the celebrated Provincial Amateur of Roscian -renown, whose unique performance in the highest tragic walk of our -National Bard has lately occasioned so great a sensation in local -dramatic circles." -"Were you at his performance, Joe?" I inquired. -"I were," said Joe, with emphasis and solemnity. -"Was there a great sensation?" -"Why," said Joe, "yes, there certainly were a peck of orangepeel. -Partickler, when he see the ghost. Though I put it to yourself, -sir, whether it were calc'lated to keep a man up to his work with a -good hart, to be continiwally cutting in betwixt him and the Ghost -with "Amen" A man may have had a misfortun' and been in the -Church," said Joe, lowering his voice to an argumentative and -feeling tone, "but that is no reason why you should put him out at -such a time. Which I meantersay, if the ghost of a man's own father -cannot be allowed to claim his attention, what can, Sir? Still -more, when his mourning 'at is unfortunately made so small as that -the weight of the black feathers brings it off, try to keep it on -how you may." -A ghostseeing effect in Joe's own countenance informed me that -Herbert had entered the room. So, I presented Joe to Herbert, who -held out his hand but Joe backed from it, and held on by the -bird'snest. -"Your servant, Sir," said Joe, "which I hope as you and Pip" here -his eye fell on the Avenger, who was putting some toast on table, -and so plainly denoted an intention to make that young gentleman -one of the family, that I frowned it down and confused him more -"I meantersay, you two gentlemen which I hope as you get your -elths in this close spot? For the present may be a werry good inn, -according to London opinions," said Joe, confidentially, "and I -believe its character do stand i but I wouldn't keep a pig in it -myself not in the case that I wished him to fatten wholesome and -to eat with a meller flavour on him." -Having borne this flattering testimony to the merits of our -dwellingplace, and having incidentally shown this tendency to call -me "sir," Joe, being invited to sit down to table, looked all round -the room for a suitable spot on which to deposit his hat as if it -were only on some very few rare substances in nature that it could -find a resting place and ultimately stood it on an extreme corner -of the chimneypiece, from which it ever afterwards fell off at -intervals. -"Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?" asked Herbert, who always -presided of a morning. -"Thankee, Sir," said Joe, stiff from head to foot, "I'll take -whichever is most agreeable to yourself." -"What do you say to coffee?" -"Thankee, Sir," returned Joe, evidently dispirited by the proposal, -"since you are so kind as make chice of coffee, I will not run -contrairy to your own opinions. But don't you never find it a -little 'eating?" -"Say tea then," said Herbert, pouring it out. -Here Joe's hat tumbled off the mantelpiece, and he started out of -his chair and picked it up, and fitted it to the same exact spot. -As if it were an absolute point of good breeding that it should -tumble off again soon. -"When did you come to town, Mr. Gargery?" -"Were it yesterday afternoon?" said Joe, after coughing behind his -hand, as if he had had time to catch the whoopingcough since he -came. "No it were not. Yes it were. Yes. It were yesterday -afternoon" with an appearance of mingled wisdom, relief, and -strict impartiality. -"Have you seen anything of London, yet?" -"Why, yes, Sir," said Joe, "me and Wopsle went off straight to look -at the Blacking Ware'us. But we didn't find that it come up to its -likeness in the red bills at the shop doors which I meantersay," -added Joe, in an explanatory manner, "as it is there drawd too -architectooralooral." -I really believe Joe would have prolonged this word mightily -expressive to my mind of some architecture that I know into a -perfect Chorus, but for his attention being providentially -attracted by his hat, which was toppling. Indeed, it demanded from -him a constant attention, and a quickness of eye and hand, very -like that exacted by wicketkeeping. He made extraordinary play -with it, and showed the greatest skill now, rushing at it and -catching it neatly as it dropped now, merely stopping it midway, -beating it up, and humouring it in various parts of the room and -against a good deal of the pattern of the paper on the wall, before -he felt it safe to close with it finally, splashing it into the -slopbasin, where I took the liberty of laying hands upon it. -As to his shirtcollar, and his coatcollar, they were perplexing -to reflect upon insoluble mysteries both. Why should a man scrape -himself to that extent, before he could consider himself full -dressed? Why should he suppose it necessary to be purified by -suffering for his holiday clothes? Then he fell into such -unaccountable fits of meditation, with his fork midway between his -plate and his mouth had his eyes attracted in such strange -directions was afflicted with such remarkable coughs sat so far -from the table, and dropped so much more than he ate, and pretended -that he hadn't dropped it that I was heartily glad when Herbert -left us for the city. -I had neither the good sense nor the good feeling to know that this -was all my fault, and that if I had been easier with Joe, Joe would -have been easier with me. I felt impatient of him and out of temper -with him in which condition he heaped coals of fire on my head. -"Us two being now alone, Sir," began Joe. -"Joe," I interrupted, pettishly, "how can you call me, Sir?" -Joe looked at me for a single instant with something faintly like -reproach. Utterly preposterous as his cravat was, and as his -collars were, I was conscious of a sort of dignity in the look. -"Us two being now alone," resumed Joe, "and me having the -intentions and abilities to stay not many minutes more, I will now -conclude leastways begin to mention what have led to my having -had the present honour. For was it not," said Joe, with his old air -of lucid exposition, "that my only wish were to be useful to you, I -should not have had the honour of breaking wittles in the company -and abode of gentlemen." -I was so unwilling to see the look again, that I made no -remonstrance against this tone. -"Well, Sir," pursued Joe, "this is how it were. I were at the -Bargemen t'other night, Pip" whenever he subsided into affection, -he called me Pip, and whenever he relapsed into politeness he -called me Sir "when there come up in his shaycart, Pumblechook. -Which that same identical," said Joe, going down a new track, "do -comb my 'air the wrong way sometimes, awful, by giving out up and -down town as it were him which ever had your infant companionation -and were looked upon as a playfellow by yourself." -"Nonsense. It was you, Joe." -"Which I fully believed it were, Pip," said Joe, slightly tossing -his head, "though it signify little now, Sir. Well, Pip this same -identical, which his manners is given to blusterous, come to me at -the Bargemen wot a pipe and a pint of beer do give refreshment to -the workingman, Sir, and do not over stimilate, and his word -were, 'Joseph, Miss Havisham she wish to speak to you.'" -"Miss Havisham, Joe?" -"'She wish,' were Pumblechook's word, 'to speak to you.'" Joe sat -and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. -"Yes, Joe? Go on, please." -"Next day, Sir," said Joe, looking at me as if I were a long way -off, "having cleaned myself, I go and I see Miss A." -"Miss A., Joe? Miss Havisham?" -"Which I say, Sir," replied Joe, with an air of legal formality, as -if he were making his will, "Miss A., or otherways Havisham. Her -expression air then as follering 'Mr. Gargery. You air in -correspondence with Mr. Pip?' Having had a letter from you, I were -able to say 'I am.' When I married your sister, Sir, I said 'I -will' and when I answered your friend, Pip, I said 'I am.' 'Would -you tell him, then,' said she, 'that which Estella has come home -and would be glad to see him.'" -I felt my face fire up as I looked at Joe. I hope one remote cause -of its firing, may have been my consciousness that if I had known -his errand, I should have given him more encouragement. -"Biddy," pursued Joe, "when I got home and asked her fur to write -the message to you, a little hung back. Biddy says, 'I know he will -be very glad to have it by word of mouth, it is holidaytime, you -want to see him, go' I have now concluded, Sir," said Joe, rising -from his chair, "and, Pip, I wish you ever well and ever prospering -to a greater and a greater heighth." -"But you are not going now, Joe?" -"Yes I am," said Joe. -"But you are coming back to dinner, Joe?" -"No I am not," said Joe. -Our eyes met, and all the "Sir" melted out of that manly heart as -he gave me his hand. -"Pip, dear old chap, life is made of ever so many partings welded -together, as I may say, and one man's a blacksmith, and one's a -whitesmith, and one's a goldsmith, and one's a coppersmith. -Diwisions among such must come, and must be met as they come. If -there's been any fault at all today, it's mine. You and me is not -two figures to be together in London nor yet anywheres else but -what is private, and beknown, and understood among friends. It -ain't that I am proud, but that I want to be right, as you shall -never see me no more in these clothes. I'm wrong in these clothes. -I'm wrong out of the forge, the kitchen, or off th' meshes. You -won't find half so much fault in me if you think of me in my forge -dress, with my hammer in my hand, or even my pipe. You won't find -half so much fault in me if, supposing as you should ever wish to -see me, you come and put your head in at the forge window and see -Joe the blacksmith, there, at the old anvil, in the old burnt -apron, sticking to the old work. I'm awful dull, but I hope I've -beat out something nigh the rights of this at last. And so GOD -bless you, dear old Pip, old chap, GOD bless you" -I had not been mistaken in my fancy that there was a simple dignity -in him. The fashion of his dress could no more come in its way when -he spoke these words, than it could come in its way in Heaven. He -touched me gently on the forehead, and went out. As soon as I could -recover myself sufficiently, I hurried out after him and looked for -him in the neighbouring streets but he was gone. -Chapter -It was clear that I must repair to our town next day, and in the -first flow of my repentance it was equally clear that I must stay -at Joe's. But, when I had secured my boxplace by tomorrow's coach -and had been down to Mr. Pocket's and back, I was not by any means -convinced on the last point, and began to invent reasons and make -excuses for putting up at the Blue Boar. I should be an -inconvenience at Joe's I was not expected, and my bed would not be -ready I should be too far from Miss Havisham's, and she was -exacting and mightn't like it. All other swindlers upon earth are -nothing to the selfswindlers, and with such pretences did I cheat -myself. Surely a curious thing. That I should innocently take a bad -halfcrown of somebody else's manufacture, is reasonable enough -but that I should knowingly reckon the spurious coin of my own -make, as good money An obliging stranger, under pretence of -compactly folding up my banknotes for security's sake, abstracts -the notes and gives me nutshells but what is his sleight of hand -to mine, when I fold up my own nutshells and pass them on myself as -notes -Having settled that I must go to the Blue Boar, my mind was much -disturbed by indecision whether or not to take the Avenger. It was -tempting to think of that expensive Mercenary publicly airing his -boots in the archway of the Blue Boar's postingyard it was almost -solemn to imagine him casually produced in the tailor's shop and -confounding the disrespectful senses of Trabb's boy. On the other -hand, Trabb's boy might worm himself into his intimacy and tell him -things or, reckless and desperate wretch as I knew he could be, -might hoot him in the Highstreet, My patroness, too, might hear of -him, and not approve. On the whole, I resolved to leave the Avenger -behind. -It was the afternoon coach by which I had taken my place, and, as -winter had now come round, I should not arrive at my destination -until two or three hours after dark. Our time of starting from the -Cross Keys was two o'clock. I arrived on the ground with a quarter -of an hour to spare, attended by the Avenger if I may connect -that expression with one who never attended on me if he could -possibly help it. -At that time it was customary to carry Convicts down to the -dockyards by stagecoach. As I had often heard of them in the -capacity of outside passengers, and had more than once seen them on -the high road dangling their ironed legs over the coach roof, I had -no cause to be surprised when Herbert, meeting me in the yard, came -up and told me there were two convicts going down with me. But I -had a reason that was an old reason now, for constitutionally -faltering whenever I heard the word convict. -"You don't mind them, Handel?" said Herbert. -"Oh no" -"I thought you seemed as if you didn't like them?" -"I can't pretend that I do like them, and I suppose you don't -particularly. But I don't mind them." -"See There they are," said Herbert, "coming out of the Tap. What a -degraded and vile sight it is" -They had been treating their guard, I suppose, for they had a -gaoler with them, and all three came out wiping their mouths on -their hands. The two convicts were handcuffed together, and had -irons on their legs irons of a pattern that I knew well. They -wore the dress that I likewise knew well. Their keeper had a brace -of pistols, and carried a thickknobbed bludgeon under his arm but -he was on terms of good understanding with them, and stood, with -them beside him, looking on at the puttingto of the horses, rather -with an air as if the convicts were an interesting Exhibition not -formally open at the moment, and he the Curator. One was a taller -and stouter man than the other, and appeared as a matter of course, -according to the mysterious ways of the world both convict and -free, to have had allotted to him the smaller suit of clothes. His -arms and legs were like great pincushions of those shapes, and his -attire disguised him absurdly but I knew his halfclosed eye at -one glance. There stood the man whom I had seen on the settle at -the Three Jolly Bargemen on a Saturday night, and who had brought -me down with his invisible gun -It was easy to make sure that as yet he knew me no more than if he -had never seen me in his life. He looked across at me, and his eye -appraised my watchchain, and then he incidentally spat and said -something to the other convict, and they laughed and slued -themselves round with a clink of their coupling manacle, and looked -at something else. The great numbers on their backs, as if they -were street doors their coarse mangy ungainly outer surface, as if -they were lower animals their ironed legs, apologetically -garlanded with pockethandkerchiefs and the way in which all -present looked at them and kept from them made them as Herbert -had said a most disagreeable and degraded spectacle. -But this was not the worst of it. It came out that the whole of the -back of the coach had been taken by a family removing from London, -and that there were no places for the two prisoners but on the seat -in front, behind the coachman. Hereupon, a choleric gentleman, who -had taken the fourth place on that seat, flew into a most violent -passion, and said that it was a breach of contract to mix him up -with such villainous company, and that it was poisonous and -pernicious and infamous and shameful, and I don't know what else. -At this time the coach was ready and the coachman impatient, and we -were all preparing to get up, and the prisoners had come over with -their keeper bringing with them that curious flavour of -breadpoultice, baize, ropeyarn, and hearthstone, which attends -the convict presence. -"Don't take it so much amiss, sir," pleaded the keeper to the angry -passenger "I'll sit next you myself. I'll put 'em on the outside -of the row. They won't interfere with you, sir. You needn't know -they're there." -"And don't blame me," growled the convict I had recognized. "I -don't want to go. I am quite ready to stay behind. As fur as I am -concerned any one's welcome to my place." -"Or mine," said the other, gruffly. "I wouldn't have incommoded -none of you, if I'd had my way." Then, they both laughed, and began -cracking nuts, and spitting the shells about. As I really think I -should have liked to do myself, if I had been in their place and so -despised. -At length, it was voted that there was no help for the angry -gentleman, and that he must either go in his chance company or -remain behind. So, he got into his place, still making complaints, -and the keeper got into the place next him, and the convicts hauled -themselves up as well as they could, and the convict I had -recognized sat behind me with his breath on the hair of my head. -"Goodbye, Handel" Herbert called out as we started. I thought -what a blessed fortune it was, that he had found another name for -me than Pip. -It is impossible to express with what acuteness I felt the -convict's breathing, not only on the back of my head, but all along -my spine. The sensation was like being touched in the marrow with -some pungent and searching acid, it set my very teeth on edge. He -seemed to have more breathing business to do than another man, and -to make more noise in doing it and I was conscious of growing -highshoulderd on one side, in my shrinking endeavours to fend him -off. -The weather was miserably raw, and the two cursed the cold. It made -us all lethargic before we had gone far, and when we had left the -Halfway House behind, we habitually dozed and shivered and were -silent. I dozed off, myself, in considering the question whether I -ought to restore a couple of pounds sterling to this creature -before losing sight of him, and how it could best be done. In the -act of dipping forward as if I were going to bathe among the -horses, I woke in a fright and took the question up again. -But I must have lost it longer than I had thought, since, although -I could recognize nothing in the darkness and the fitful lights and -shadows of our lamps, I traced marsh country in the cold damp wind -that blew at us. Cowering forward for warmth and to make me a -screen against the wind, the convicts were closer to me than -before. They very first words I heard them interchange as I became -conscious were the words of my own thought, "Two One Pound notes." -"How did he get 'em?" said the convict I had never seen. -"How should I know?" returned the other. "He had 'em stowed away -somehows. Giv him by friends, I expect." -"I wish," said the other, with a bitter curse upon the cold, "that -I had 'em here." -"Two one pound notes, or friends?" -"Two one pound notes. I'd sell all the friends I ever had, for one, -and think it a blessed good bargain. Well? So he says ?" -"So he says," resumed the convict I had recognized "it was all -said and done in half a minute, behind a pile of timber in the -Dockyard 'You're agoing to be discharged?' Yes, I was. Would I -find out that boy that had fed him and kep his secret, and give him -them two one pound notes? Yes, I would. And I did." -"More fool you," growled the other. "I'd have spent 'em on a Man, -in wittles and drink. He must have been a green one. Mean to say he -knowed nothing of you?" -"Not a ha'porth. Different gangs and different ships. He was tried -again for prison breaking, and got made a Lifer." -"And was that Honour the only time you worked out, in this -part of the country?" -"The only time." -"What might have been your opinion of the place?" -"A most beastly place. Mudbank, mist, swamp, and work work, swamp, -mist, and mudbank." -They both execrated the place in very strong language, and -gradually growled themselves out, and had nothing left to say. -After overhearing this dialogue, I should assuredly have got down -and been left in the solitude and darkness of the highway, but for -feeling certain that the man had no suspicion of my identity. -Indeed, I was not only so changed in the course of nature, but so -differently dressed and so differently circumstanced, that it was -not at all likely he could have known me without accidental help. -Still, the coincidence of our being together on the coach, was -sufficiently strange to fill me with a dread that some other -coincidence might at any moment connect me, in his hearing, with my -name. For this reason, I resolved to alight as soon as we touched -the town, and put myself out of his hearing. This device I executed -successfully. My little portmanteau was in the boot under my feet -I had but to turn a hinge to get it out I threw it down before me, -got down after it, and was left at the first lamp on the first -stones of the town pavement. As to the convicts, they went their -way with the coach, and I knew at what point they would be spirited -off to the river. In my fancy, I saw the boat with its convict crew -waiting for them at the slimewashed stairs, again heard the -gruff "Give way, you" like and order to dogs again saw the -wicked Noah's Ark lying out on the black water. -I could not have said what I was afraid of, for my fear was -altogether undefined and vague, but there was great fear upon me. -As I walked on to the hotel, I felt that a dread, much exceeding -the mere apprehension of a painful or disagreeable recognition, -made me tremble. I am confident that it took no distinctness of -shape, and that it was the revival for a few minutes of the terror -of childhood. -The coffeeroom at the Blue Boar was empty, and I had not only -ordered my dinner there, but had sat down to it, before the waiter -knew me. As soon as he had apologized for the remissness of his -memory, he asked me if he should send Boots for Mr. Pumblechook? -"No," said I, "certainly not." -The waiter it was he who had brought up the Great Remonstrance -from the Commercials, on the day when I was bound appeared -surprised, and took the earliest opportunity of putting a dirty old -copy of a local newspaper so directly in my way, that I took it up -and read this paragraph -Our readers will learn, not altogether without interest, in -reference to the recent romantic rise in fortune of a young -artificer in iron of this neighbourhood what a theme, by the way, -for the magic pen of our as yet not universally acknowledged -townsman TOOBY, the poet of our columns that the youth's earliest -patron, companion, and friend, was a highlyrespected individual -not entirely unconnected with the corn and seed trade, and whose -eminently convenient and commodious business premises are situate -within a hundred miles of the Highstreet. It is not wholly -irrespective of our personal feelings that we record HIM as the -Mentor of our young Telemachus, for it is good to know that our -town produced the founder of the latter's fortunes. Does the -thoughtcontracted brow of the local Sage or the lustrous eye of -local Beauty inquire whose fortunes? We believe that Quintin Matsys -was the BLACKSMITH of Antwerp. VERB. SAP. -I entertain a conviction, based upon large experience, that if in -the days of my prosperity I had gone to the North Pole, I should -have met somebody there, wandering Esquimaux or civilized man, who -would have told me that Pumblechook was my earliest patron and the -founder of my fortunes. -Chapter -Betimes in the morning I was up and out. It was too early yet to go -to Miss Havisham's, so I loitered into the country on Miss -Havisham's side of town which was not Joe's side I could go -there tomorrow thinking about my patroness, and painting -brilliant pictures of her plans for me. -She had adopted Estella, she had as good as adopted me, and it -could not fail to be her intention to bring us together. She -reserved it for me to restore the desolate house, admit the -sunshine into the dark rooms, set the clocks agoing and the cold -hearths ablazing, tear down the cobwebs, destroy the vermin in -short, do all the shining deeds of the young Knight of romance, and -marry the Princess. I had stopped to look at the house as I passed -and its seared red brick walls, blocked windows, and strong green -ivy clasping even the stacks of chimneys with its twigs and -tendons, as if with sinewy old arms, had made up a rich attractive -mystery, of which I was the hero. Estella was the inspiration of -it, and the heart of it, of course. But, though she had taken such -strong possession of me, though my fancy and my hope were so set -upon her, though her influence on my boyish life and character had -been allpowerful, I did not, even that romantic morning, invest -her with any attributes save those she possessed. I mention this in -this place, of a fixed purpose, because it is the clue by which I -am to be followed into my poor labyrinth. According to my -experience, the conventional notion of a lover cannot be always -true. The unqualified truth is, that when I loved Estella with the -love of a man, I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. -Once for all I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, -that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, -against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that -could be. Once for all I loved her none the less because I knew -it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had -devoutly believed her to be human perfection. -I so shaped out my walk as to arrive at the gate at my old time. -When I had rung at the bell with an unsteady hand, I turned my back -upon the gate, while I tried to get my breath and keep the beating -of my heart moderately quiet. I heard the side door open, and steps -come across the courtyard but I pretended not to hear, even when -the gate swung on its rusty hinges. -Being at last touched on the shoulder, I started and turned. I -started much more naturally then, to find myself confronted by a -man in a sober grey dress. The last man I should have expected to -see in that place of porter at Miss Havisham's door. -"Orlick" -"Ah, young master, there's more changes than yours. But come in, -come in. It's opposed to my orders to hold the gate open." -I entered and he swung it, and locked it, and took the key out. -"Yes" said he, facing round, after doggedly preceding me a few -steps towards the house. "Here I am" -"How did you come here?" -"I come her," he retorted, "on my legs. I had my box brought -alongside me in a barrow." -"Are you here for good?" -"I ain't her for harm, young master, I suppose?" -I was not so sure of that. I had leisure to entertain the retort in -my mind, while he slowly lifted his heavy glance from the pavement, -up my legs and arms, to my face. -"Then you have left the forge?" I said. -"Do this look like a forge?" replied Orlick, sending his glance all -round him with an air of injury. "Now, do it look like it?" -I asked him how long he had left Gargery's forge? -"One day is so like another here," he replied, "that I don't know -without casting it up. However, I come her some time since you -left." -"I could have told you that, Orlick." -"Ah" said he, drily. "But then you've got to be a scholar." -By this time we had come to the house, where I found his room to be -one just within the side door, with a little window in it looking -on the courtyard. In its small proportions, it was not unlike the -kind of place usually assigned to a gateporter in Paris. Certain -keys were hanging on the wall, to which he now added the gatekey -and his patchworkcovered bed was in a little inner division or -recess. The whole had a slovenly confined and sleepy look, like a -cage for a human dormouse while he, looming dark and heavy in the -shadow of a corner by the window, looked like the human dormouse -for whom it was fitted up as indeed he was. -"I never saw this room before," I remarked "but there used to be -no Porter here." -"No," said he "not till it got about that there was no protection -on the premises, and it come to be considered dangerous, with -convicts and Tag and Rag and Bobtail going up and down. And then I -was recommended to the place as a man who could give another man as -good as he brought, and I took it. It's easier than bellowsing and -hammering. That's loaded, that is." -My eye had been caught by a gun with a brass bound stock over the -chimneypiece, and his eye had followed mine. -"Well," said I, not desirous of more conversation, "shall I go up -to Miss Havisham?" -"Burn me, if I know" he retorted, first stretching himself and -then shaking himself "my orders ends here, young master. I give -this here bell a rap with this here hammer, and you go on along the -passage till you meet somebody." -"I am expected, I believe?" -"Burn me twice over, if I can say" said he. -Upon that, I turned down the long passage which I had first trodden -in my thick boots, and he made his bell sound. At the end of the -passage, while the bell was still reverberating, I found Sarah -Pocket who appeared to have now become constitutionally green and -yellow by reason of me. -"Oh" said she. "You, is it, Mr. Pip?" -"It is, Miss Pocket. I am glad to tell you that Mr. Pocket and -family are all well." -"Are they any wiser?" said Sarah, with a dismal shake of the head -"they had better be wiser, than well. Ah, Matthew, Matthew You know -your way, sir?" -Tolerably, for I had gone up the staircase in the dark, many a -time. I ascended it now, in lighter boots than of yore, and tapped -in my old way at the door of Miss Havisham's room. "Pip's rap," I -heard her say, immediately "come in, Pip." -She was in her chair near the old table, in the old dress, with her -two hands crossed on her stick, her chin resting on them, and her -eyes on the fire. Sitting near her, with the white shoe that had -never been worn, in her hand, and her head bent as she looked at -it, was an elegant lady whom I had never seen. -"Come in, Pip," Miss Havisham continued to mutter, without looking -round or up "come in, Pip, how do you do, Pip? so you kiss my hand -as if I were a queen, eh? Well?" -She looked up at me suddenly, only moving her eyes, and repeated in -a grimly playful manner, -"Well?" -"I heard, Miss Havisham," said I, rather at a loss, "that you were -so kind as to wish me to come and see you, and I came directly." -"Well?" -The lady whom I had never seen before, lifted up her eyes and -looked archly at me, and then I saw that the eyes were Estella's -eyes. But she was so much changed, was so much more beautiful, so -much more womanly, in all things winning admiration had made such -wonderful advance, that I seemed to have made none. I fancied, as I -looked at her, that I slipped hopelessly back into the coarse and -common boy again. O the sense of distance and disparity that came -upon me, and the inaccessibility that came about her -She gave me her hand. I stammered something about the pleasure I -felt in seeing her again, and about my having looked forward to it -for a long, long time. -"Do you find her much changed, Pip?" asked Miss Havisham, with her -greedy look, and striking her stick upon a chair that stood between -them, as a sign to me to sit down there. -"When I came in, Miss Havisham, I thought there was nothing of -Estella in the face or figure but now it all settles down so -curiously into the old" -"What? You are not going to say into the old Estella?" Miss -Havisham interrupted. "She was proud and insulting, and you wanted -to go away from her. Don't you remember?" -I said confusedly that that was long ago, and that I knew no better -then, and the like. Estella smiled with perfect composure, and said -she had no doubt of my having been quite right, and of her having -been very disagreeable. -"Is he changed?" Miss Havisham asked her. -"Very much," said Estella, looking at me. -"Less coarse and common?" said Miss Havisham, playing with -Estella's hair. -Estella laughed, and looked at the shoe in her hand, and laughed -again, and looked at me, and put the shoe down. She treated me as a -boy still, but she lured me on. -We sat in the dreamy room among the old strange influences which -had so wrought upon me, and I learnt that she had but just come -home from France, and that she was going to London. Proud and -wilful as of old, she had brought those qualities into such -subjection to her beauty that it was impossible and out of nature -or I thought so to separate them from her beauty. Truly it was -impossible to dissociate her presence from all those wretched -hankerings after money and gentility that had disturbed my boyhood -from all those illregulated aspirations that had first made me -ashamed of home and Joe from all those visions that had raised -her face in the glowing fire, struck it out of the iron on the -anvil, extracted it from the darkness of night to look in at the -wooden window of the forge and flit away. In a word, it was -impossible for me to separate her, in the past or in the present, -from the innermost life of my life. -It was settled that I should stay there all the rest of the day, -and return to the hotel at night, and to London tomorrow. When we -had conversed for a while, Miss Havisham sent us two out to walk in -the neglected garden on our coming in byandby, she said, I -should wheel her about a little as in times of yore. -So, Estella and I went out into the garden by the gate through -which I had strayed to my encounter with the pale young gentleman, -now Herbert I, trembling in spirit and worshipping the very hem of -her dress she, quite composed and most decidedly not worshipping -the hem of mine. As we drew near to the place of encounter, she -stopped and said -"I must have been a singular little creature to hide and see that -fight that day but I did, and I enjoyed it very much." -"You rewarded me very much." -"Did I?" she replied, in an incidental and forgetful way. "I -remember I entertained a great objection to your adversary, because -I took it ill that he should be brought here to pester me with his -company." -"He and I are great friends now." -"Are you? I think I recollect though, that you read with his -father?" -"Yes." -I made the admission with reluctance, for it seemed to have a -boyish look, and she already treated me more than enough like a -boy. -"Since your change of fortune and prospects, you have changed your -companions," said Estella. -"Naturally," said I. -"And necessarily," she added, in a haughty tone "what was fit -company for you once, would be quite unfit company for you now." -In my conscience, I doubt very much whether I had any lingering -intention left, of going to see Joe but if I had, this observation -put it to flight. -"You had no idea of your impending good fortune, in those times?" -said Estella, with a slight wave of her hand, signifying in the -fighting times. -"Not the least." -The air of completeness and superiority with which she walked at my -side, and the air of youthfulness and submission with which I -walked at hers, made a contrast that I strongly felt. It would have -rankled in me more than it did, if I had not regarded myself as -eliciting it by being so set apart for her and assigned to her. -The garden was too overgrown and rank for walking in with ease, and -after we had made the round of it twice or thrice, we came out -again into the brewery yard. I showed her to a nicety where I had -seen her walking on the casks, that first old day, and she said, -with a cold and careless look in that direction, "Did I?" I -reminded her where she had come out of the house and given me my -meat and drink, and she said, "I don't remember." "Not remember -that you made me cry?" said I. "No," said she, and shook her head -and looked about her. I verily believe that her not remembering and -not minding in the least, made me cry again, inwardly and that is -the sharpest crying of all. -"You must know," said Estella, condescending to me as a brilliant -and beautiful woman might, "that I have no heart if that has -anything to do with my memory." -I got through some jargon to the effect that I took the liberty of -doubting that. That I knew better. That there could be no such -beauty without it. -"Oh I have a heart to be stabbed in or shot in, I have no doubt," -said Estella, "and, of course, if it ceased to beat I should cease -to be. But you know what I mean. I have no softness there, no -sympathy sentiment nonsense." -What was it that was borne in upon my mind when she stood still and -looked attentively at me? Anything that I had seen in Miss -Havisham? No. In some of her looks and gestures there was that -tinge of resemblance to Miss Havisham which may often be noticed to -have been acquired by children, from grown person with whom they -have been much associated and secluded, and which, when childhood -is passed, will produce a remarkable occasional likeness of -expression between faces that are otherwise quite different. And -yet I could not trace this to Miss Havisham. I looked again, and -though she was still looking at me, the suggestion was gone. -What was it? -"I am serious," said Estella, not so much with a frown for her -brow was smooth as with a darkening of her face "if we are to be -thrown much together, you had better believe it at once. No" -imperiously stopping me as I opened my lips. "I have not bestowed -my tenderness anywhere. I have never had any such thing." -In another moment we were in the brewery so long disused, and she -pointed to the high gallery where I had seen her going out on that -same first day, and told me she remembered to have been up there, -and to have seen me standing scared below. As my eyes followed her -white hand, again the same dim suggestion that I could not possibly -grasp, crossed me. My involuntary start occasioned her to lay her -hand upon my arm. Instantly the ghost passed once more, and was -gone. -What was it? -"What is the matter?" asked Estella. "Are you scared again?" -"I should be, if I believed what you said just now," I replied, to -turn it off. -"Then you don't? Very well. It is said, at any rate. Miss Havisham -will soon be expecting you at your old post, though I think that -might be laid aside now, with other old belongings. Let us make one -more round of the garden, and then go in. Come You shall not shed -tears for my cruelty today you shall be my Page, and give me your -shoulder." -Her handsome dress had trailed upon the ground. She held it in one -hand now, and with the other lightly touched my shoulder as we -walked. We walked round the ruined garden twice or thrice more, and -it was all in bloom for me. If the green and yellow growth of weed -in the chinks of the old wall had been the most precious flowers -that ever blew, it could not have been more cherished in my -remembrance. -There was no discrepancy of years between us, to remove her far -from me we were of nearly the same age, though of course the age -told for more in her case than in mine but the air of -inaccessibility which her beauty and her manner gave her, tormented -me in the midst of my delight, and at the height of the assurance I -felt that our patroness had chosen us for one another. Wretched -boy -At last we went back into the house, and there I heard, with -surprise, that my guardian had come down to see Miss Havisham on -business, and would come back to dinner. The old wintry branches of -chandeliers in the room where the mouldering table was spread, had -been lighted while we were out, and Miss Havisham was in her chair -and waiting for me. -It was like pushing the chair itself back into the past, when we -began the old slow circuit round about the ashes of the bridal -feast. But, in the funereal room, with that figure of the grave -fallen back in the chair fixing its eyes upon her, Estella looked -more bright and beautiful than before, and I was under stronger -enchantment. -The time so melted away, that our early dinnerhour drew close at -hand, and Estella left us to prepare herself. We had stopped near -the centre of the long table, and Miss Havisham, with one of her -withered arms stretched out of the chair, rested that clenched hand -upon the yellow cloth. As Estella looked back over her shoulder -before going out at the door, Miss Havisham kissed that hand to -her, with a ravenous intensity that was of its kind quite dreadful. -Then, Estella being gone and we two left alone, she turned to me, -and said in a whisper -"Is she beautiful, graceful, wellgrown? Do you admire her?" -"Everybody must who sees her, Miss Havisham." -She drew an arm round my neck, and drew my head close down to hers -as she sat in the chair. "Love her, love her, love her How does -she use you?" -Before I could answer if I could have answered so difficult a -question at all, she repeated, "Love her, love her, love her If -she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she -tears your heart to pieces and as it gets older and stronger, it -will tear deeper love her, love her, love her" -Never had I seen such passionate eagerness as was joined to her -utterance of these words. I could feel the muscles of the thin arm -round my neck, swell with the vehemence that possessed her. -"Hear me, Pip I adopted her to be loved. I bred her and educated -her, to be loved. I developed her into what she is, that she might -be loved. Love her" -She said the word often enough, and there could be no doubt that -she meant to say it but if the often repeated word had been hate -instead of love despair revenge dire death it could not -have sounded from her lips more like a curse. -"I'll tell you," said she, in the same hurried passionate whisper, -"what real love is. It is blind devotion, unquestioning -selfhumiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against -yourself and against the whole world, giving up your whole heart -and soul to the smiter as I did" -When she came to that, and to a wild cry that followed that, I -caught her round the waist. For she rose up in the chair, in her -shroud of a dress, and struck at the air as if she would as soon -have struck herself against the wall and fallen dead. -All this passed in a few seconds. As I drew her down into her -chair, I was conscious of a scent that I knew, and turning, saw my -guardian in the room. -He always carried I have not yet mentioned it, I think a -pockethandkerchief of rich silk and of imposing proportions, which -was of great value to him in his profession. I have seen him so -terrify a client or a witness by ceremoniously unfolding this -pockethandkerchief as if he were immediately going to blow his -nose, and then pausing, as if he knew he should not have time to do -it before such client or witness committed himself, that the -selfcommittal has followed directly, quite as a matter of course. -When I saw him in the room, he had this expressive -pockethandkerchief in both hands, and was looking at us. On meeting -my eye, he said plainly, by a momentary and silent pause in that -attitude, "Indeed? Singular" and then put the handkerchief to its -right use with wonderful effect. -Miss Havisham had seen him as soon as I, and was like everybody -else afraid of him. She made a strong attempt to compose herself, -and stammered that he was as punctual as ever. -"As punctual as ever," he repeated, coming up to us. "How do you -do, Pip? Shall I give you a ride, Miss Havisham? Once round? -And so you are here, Pip?" -I told him when I had arrived, and how Miss Havisham had wished me -to come and see Estella. To which he replied, "Ah Very fine young -lady" Then he pushed Miss Havisham in her chair before him, with -one of his large hands, and put the other in his trouserspocket as -if the pocket were full of secrets. -"Well, Pip How often have you seen Miss Estella before?" said he, -when he came to a stop. -"How often?" -"Ah How many times? Ten thousand times?" -"Oh Certainly not so many." -"Twice?" -"Jaggers," interposed Miss Havisham, much to my relief "leave my -Pip alone, and go with him to your dinner." -He complied, and we groped our way down the dark stairs together. -While we were still on our way to those detached apartments across -the paved yard at the back, he asked me how often I had seen Miss -Havisham eat and drink offering me a breadth of choice, as usual, -between a hundred times and once. -I considered, and said, "Never." -"And never will, Pip," he retorted, with a frowning smile. "She has -never allowed herself to be seen doing either, since she lived this -present life of hers. She wanders about in the night, and then lays -hands on such food as she takes." -"Pray, sir," said I, "may I ask you a question?" -"You may," said he, "and I may decline to answer it. Put your -question." -"Estella's name. Is it Havisham or ?" I had nothing to add. -"Or what?" said he. -"Is it Havisham?" -"It is Havisham." -This brought us to the dinnertable, where she and Sarah Pocket -awaited us. Mr. Jaggers presided, Estella sat opposite to him, I -faced my green and yellow friend. We dined very well, and were -waited on by a maidservant whom I had never seen in all my comings -and goings, but who, for anything I know, had been in that -mysterious house the whole time. After dinner, a bottle of choice -old port was placed before my guardian he was evidently well -acquainted with the vintage, and the two ladies left us. -Anything to equal the determined reticence of Mr. Jaggers under that -roof, I never saw elsewhere, even in him. He kept his very looks to -himself, and scarcely directed his eyes to Estella's face once -during dinner. When she spoke to him, he listened, and in due -course answered, but never looked at her, that I could see. On the -other hand, she often looked at him, with interest and curiosity, -if not distrust, but his face never, showed the least -consciousness. Throughout dinner he took a dry delight in making -Sarah Pocket greener and yellower, by often referring in -conversation with me to my expectations but here, again, he showed -no consciousness, and even made it appear that he extorted and -even did extort, though I don't know how those references out of -my innocent self. -And when he and I were left alone together, he sat with an air upon -him of general lying by in consequence of information he possessed, -that really was too much for me. He crossexamined his very wine -when he had nothing else in hand. He held it between himself and -the candle, tasted the port, rolled it in his mouth, swallowed it, -looked at his glass again, smelt the port, tried it, drank it, -filled again, and crossexamined the glass again, until I was as -nervous as if I had known the wine to be telling him something to -my disadvantage. Three or four times I feebly thought I would start -conversation but whenever he saw me going to ask him anything, he -looked at me with his glass in his hand, and rolling his wine about -in his mouth, as if requesting me to take notice that it was of no -use, for he couldn't answer. -I think Miss Pocket was conscious that the sight of me involved her -in the danger of being goaded to madness, and perhaps tearing off -her cap which was a very hideous one, in the nature of a muslin -mop and strewing the ground with her hair which assuredly had -never grown on her head. She did not appear when we afterwards went -up to Miss Havisham's room, and we four played at whist. In the -interval, Miss Havisham, in a fantastic way, had put some of the -most beautiful jewels from her dressingtable into Estella's hair, -and about her bosom and arms and I saw even my guardian look at -her from under his thick eyebrows, and raise them a little, when -her loveliness was before him, with those rich flushes of glitter -and colour in it. -Of the manner and extent to which he took our trumps into custody, -and came out with mean little cards at the ends of hands, before -which the glory of our Kings and Queens was utterly abased, I say -nothing nor, of the feeling that I had, respecting his looking -upon us personally in the light of three very obvious and poor -riddles that he had found out long ago. What I suffered from, was -the incompatibility between his cold presence and my feelings -towards Estella. It was not that I knew I could never bear to speak -to him about her, that I knew I could never bear to hear him creak -his boots at her, that I knew I could never bear to see him wash -his hands of her it was, that my admiration should be within a -foot or two of him it was, that my feelings should be in the same -place with him that, was the agonizing circumstance. -We played until nine o'clock, and then it was arranged that when -Estella came to London I should be forewarned of her coming and -should meet her at the coach and then I took leave of her, and -touched her and left her. -My guardian lay at the Boar in the next room to mine. Far into the -night, Miss Havisham's words, "Love her, love her, love her" -sounded in my ears. I adapted them for my own repetition, and said -to my pillow, "I love her, I love her, I love her" hundreds of -times. Then, a burst of gratitude came upon me, that she should be -destined for me, once the blacksmith's boy. Then, I thought if she -were, as I feared, by no means rapturously grateful for that -destiny yet, when would she begin to be interested in me? When -should I awaken the heart within her, that was mute and sleeping -now? -Ah me I thought those were high and great emotions. But I never -thought there was anything low and small in my keeping away from -Joe, because I knew she would be contemptuous of him. It was but a -day gone, and Joe had brought the tears into my eyes they had soon -dried, God forgive me soon dried. -Chapter -After well considering the matter while I was dressing at the Blue -Boar in the morning, I resolved to tell my guardian that I doubted -Orlick's being the right sort of man to fill a post of trust at -Miss Havisham's. "Why, of course he is not the right sort of man, -Pip," said my guardian, comfortably satisfied beforehand on the -general head, "because the man who fills the post of trust never is -the right sort of man." It seemed quite to put him into spirits, to -find that this particular post was not exceptionally held by the -right sort of man, and he listened in a satisfied manner while I -told him what knowledge I had of Orlick. "Very good, Pip," he -observed, when I had concluded, "I'll go round presently, and pay -our friend off." Rather alarmed by this summary action, I was for a -little delay, and even hinted that our friend himself might be -difficult to deal with. "Oh no he won't," said my guardian, making -his pockethandkerchiefpoint, with perfect confidence "I should -like to see him argue the question with me." -As we were going back together to London by the midday coach, and -as I breakfasted under such terrors of Pumblechook that I could -scarcely hold my cup, this gave me an opportunity of saying that I -wanted a walk, and that I would go on along the Londonroad while -Mr. Jaggers was occupied, if he would let the coachman know that I -would get into my place when overtaken. I was thus enabled to fly -from the Blue Boar immediately after breakfast. By then making a -loop of about a couple of miles into the open country at the back -of Pumblechook's premises, I got round into the Highstreet again, -a little beyond that pitfall, and felt myself in comparative -security. -It was interesting to be in the quiet old town once more, and it -was not disagreeable to be here and there suddenly recognized and -stared after. One or two of the tradespeople even darted out of -their shops and went a little way down the street before me, that -they might turn, as if they had forgotten something, and pass me -face to face on which occasions I don't know whether they or I -made the worse pretence they of not doing it, or I of not seeing -it. Still my position was a distinguished one, and I was not at all -dissatisfied with it, until Fate threw me in the way of that -unlimited miscreant, Trabb's boy. -Casting my eyes along the street at a certain point of my progress, -I beheld Trabb's boy approaching, lashing himself with an empty -blue bag. Deeming that a serene and unconscious contemplation of -him would best beseem me, and would be most likely to quell his -evil mind, I advanced with that expression of countenance, and was -rather congratulating myself on my success, when suddenly the knees -of Trabb's boy smote together, his hair uprose, his cap fell off, -he trembled violently in every limb, staggered out into the road, -and crying to the populace, "Hold me I'm so frightened" feigned to -be in a paroxysm of terror and contrition, occasioned by the -dignity of my appearance. As I passed him, his teeth loudly -chattered in his head, and with every mark of extreme humiliation, -he prostrated himself in the dust. -This was a hard thing to bear, but this was nothing. I had not -advanced another two hundred yards, when, to my inexpressible -terror, amazement, and indignation, I again beheld Trabb's boy -approaching. He was coming round a narrow corner. His blue bag was -slung over his shoulder, honest industry beamed in his eyes, a -determination to proceed to Trabb's with cheerful briskness was -indicated in his gait. With a shock he became aware of me, and was -severely visited as before but this time his motion was rotatory, -and he staggered round and round me with knees more afflicted, and -with uplifted hands as if beseeching for mercy. His sufferings were -hailed with the greatest joy by a knot of spectators, and I felt -utterly confounded. -I had not got as much further down the street as the postoffice, -when I again beheld Trabb's boy shooting round by a back way. This -time, he was entirely changed. He wore the blue bag in the manner -of my greatcoat, and was strutting along the pavement towards me -on the opposite side of the street, attended by a company of -delighted young friends to whom he from time to time exclaimed, -with a wave of his hand, "Don't know yah" Words cannot state the -amount of aggravation and injury wreaked upon me by Trabb's boy, -when, passing abreast of me, he pulled up his shirtcollar, twined -his sidehair, stuck an arm akimbo, and smirked extravagantly by, -wriggling his elbows and body, and drawling to his attendants, -"Don't know yah, don't know yah, pon my soul don't know yah" The -disgrace attendant on his immediately afterwards taking to crowing -and pursuing me across the bridge with crows, as from an -exceedingly dejected fowl who had known me when I was a blacksmith, -culminated the disgrace with which I left the town, and was, so to -speak, ejected by it into the open country. -But unless I had taken the life of Trabb's boy on that occasion, I -really do not even now see what I could have done save endure. To -have struggled with him in the street, or to have exacted any lower -recompense from him than his heart's best blood, would have been -futile and degrading. Moreover, he was a boy whom no man could -hurt an invulnerable and dodging serpent who, when chased into a -corner, flew out again between his captor's legs, scornfully -yelping. I wrote, however, to Mr. Trabb by next day's post, to say -that Mr. Pip must decline to deal further with one who could so far -forget what he owed to the best interests of society, as to employ -a boy who excited Loathing in every respectable mind. -The coach, with Mr. Jaggers inside, came up in due time, and I took -my boxseat again, and arrived in London safe but not sound, for -my heart was gone. As soon as I arrived, I sent a penitential -codfish and barrel of oysters to Joe as reparation for not having -gone myself, and then went on to Barnard's Inn. -I found Herbert dining on cold meat, and delighted to welcome me -back. Having despatched The Avenger to the coffeehouse for an -addition to the dinner, I felt that I must open my breast that very -evening to my friend and chum. As confidence was out of the -question with The Avenger in the hall, which could merely be -regarded in the light of an antechamber to the keyhole, I sent him -to the Play. A better proof of the severity of my bondage to that -taskmaster could scarcely be afforded, than the degrading shifts to -which I was constantly driven to find him employment. So mean is -extremity, that I sometimes sent him to Hyde Park Corner to see -what o'clock it was. -Dinner done and we sitting with our feet upon the fender, I said to -Herbert, "My dear Herbert, I have something very particular to tell -you." -"My dear Handel," he returned, "I shall esteem and respect your -confidence." -"It concerns myself, Herbert," said I, "and one other person." -Herbert crossed his feet, looked at the fire with his head on one -side, and having looked at it in vain for some time, looked at me -because I didn't go on. -"Herbert," said I, laying my hand upon his knee, "I love I adore -Estella." -Instead of being transfixed, Herbert replied in an easy -matterofcourse way, "Exactly. Well?" -"Well, Herbert? Is that all you say? Well?" -"What next, I mean?" said Herbert. "Of course I know that." -"How do you know it?" said I. -"How do I know it, Handel? Why, from you." -"I never told you." -"Told me You have never told me when you have got your hair cut, -but I have had senses to perceive it. You have always adored her, -ever since I have known you. You brought your adoration and your -portmanteau here, together. Told me Why, you have always told me -all day long. When you told me your own story, you told me plainly -that you began adoring her the first time you saw her, when you -were very young indeed." -"Very well, then," said I, to whom this was a new and not unwelcome -light, "I have never left off adoring her. And she has come back, a -most beautiful and most elegant creature. And I saw her yesterday. -And if I adored her before, I now doubly adore her." -"Lucky for you then, Handel," said Herbert, "that you are picked -out for her and allotted to her. Without encroaching on forbidden -ground, we may venture to say that there can be no doubt between -ourselves of that fact. Have you any idea yet, of Estella's views -on the adoration question?" -I shook my head gloomily. "Oh She is thousands of miles away, from -me," said I. -"Patience, my dear Handel time enough, time enough. But you have -something more to say?" -"I am ashamed to say it," I returned, "and yet it's no worse to say -it than to think it. You call me a lucky fellow. Of course, I am. I -was a blacksmith's boy but yesterday I am what shall I say I am -today?" -"Say, a good fellow, if you want a phrase," returned Herbert, -smiling, and clapping his hand on the back of mine, "a good fellow, -with impetuosity and hesitation, boldness and diffidence, action -and dreaming, curiously mixed in him." -I stopped for a moment to consider whether there really was this -mixture in my character. On the whole, I by no means recognized the -analysis, but thought it not worth disputing. -"When I ask what I am to call myself today, Herbert," I went on, -"I suggest what I have in my thoughts. You say I am lucky. I know I -have done nothing to raise myself in life, and that Fortune alone -has raised me that is being very lucky. And yet, when I think of -Estella" -"And when don't you, you know?" Herbert threw in, with his eyes on -the fire which I thought kind and sympathetic of him. -" Then, my dear Herbert, I cannot tell you how dependent and -uncertain I feel, and how exposed to hundreds of chances. Avoiding -forbidden ground, as you did just now, I may still say that on the -constancy of one person naming no person all my expectations -depend. And at the best, how indefinite and unsatisfactory, only to -know so vaguely what they are" In saying this, I relieved my mind -of what had always been there, more or less, though no doubt most -since yesterday. -"Now, Handel," Herbert replied, in his gay hopeful way, "it seems -to me that in the despondency of the tender passion, we are looking -into our gifthorse's mouth with a magnifyingglass. Likewise, it -seems to me that, concentrating our attention on the examination, -we altogether overlook one of the best points of the animal. Didn't -you tell me that your guardian, Mr. Jaggers, told you in the -beginning, that you were not endowed with expectations only? And -even if he had not told you so though that is a very large If, I -grant could you believe that of all men in London, Mr. Jaggers is -the man to hold his present relations towards you unless he were -sure of his ground?" -I said I could not deny that this was a strong point. I said it -people often do so, in such cases like a rather reluctant -concession to truth and justice as if I wanted to deny it -"I should think it was a strong point," said Herbert, "and I should -think you would be puzzled to imagine a stronger as to the rest, -you must bide your guardian's time, and he must bide his client's -time. You'll be oneandtwenty before you know where you are, and -then perhaps you'll get some further enlightenment. At all events, -you'll be nearer getting it, for it must come at last." -"What a hopeful disposition you have" said I, gratefully admiring -his cheery ways. -"I ought to have," said Herbert, "for I have not much else. I must -acknowledge, bythebye, that the good sense of what I have just -said is not my own, but my father's. The only remark I ever heard -him make on your story, was the final one "The thing is settled -and done, or Mr. Jaggers would not be in it." And now before I say -anything more about my father, or my father's son, and repay -confidence with confidence, I want to make myself seriously -disagreeable to you for a moment positively repulsive." -"You won't succeed," said I. -"Oh yes I shall" said he. "One, two, three, and now I am in for -it. Handel, my good fellow" though he spoke in this light tone, he -was very much in earnest "I have been thinking since we have been -talking with our feet on this fender, that Estella surely cannot be -a condition of your inheritance, if she was never referred to by -your guardian. Am I right in so understanding what you have told -me, as that he never referred to her, directly or indirectly, in -any way? Never even hinted, for instance, that your patron might -have views as to your marriage ultimately?" -"Never." -"Now, Handel, I am quite free from the flavour of sour grapes, upon -my soul and honour Not being bound to her, can you not detach -yourself from her? I told you I should be disagreeable." -I turned my head aside, for, with a rush and a sweep, like the old -marsh winds coming up from the sea, a feeling like that which had -subdued me on the morning when I left the forge, when the mists -were solemnly rising, and when I laid my hand upon the village -fingerpost, smote upon my heart again. There was silence between -us for a little while. -"Yes but my dear Handel," Herbert went on, as if we had been -talking instead of silent, "its having been so strongly rooted in -the breast of a boy whom nature and circumstances made so romantic, -renders it very serious. Think of her bringingup, and think of -Miss Havisham. Think of what she is herself now I am repulsive and -you abominate me. This may lead to miserable things." -"I know it, Herbert," said I, with my head still turned away, "but -I can't help it." -"You can't detach yourself?" -"No. Impossible" -"You can't try, Handel?" -"No. Impossible" -"Well" said Herbert, getting up with a lively shake as if he had -been asleep, and stirring the fire "now I'll endeavour to make -myself agreeable again" -So he went round the room and shook the curtains out, put the -chairs in their places, tidied the books and so forth that were -lying about, looked into the hall, peeped into the letterbox, shut -the door, and came back to his chair by the fire where he sat -down, nursing his left leg in both arms. -"I was going to say a word or two, Handel, concerning my father and -my father's son. I am afraid it is scarcely necessary for my -father's son to remark that my father's establishment is not -particularly brilliant in its housekeeping." -"There is always plenty, Herbert," said I to say something -encouraging. -"Oh yes and so the dustman says, I believe, with the strongest -approval, and so does the marinestore shop in the back street. -Gravely, Handel, for the subject is grave enough, you know how it -is, as well as I do. I suppose there was a time once when my father -had not given matters up but if ever there was, the time is gone. -May I ask you if you have ever had an opportunity of remarking, -down in your part of the country, that the children of not exactly -suitable marriages, are always most particularly anxious to be -married?" -This was such a singular question, that I asked him in return, "Is -it so?" -"I don't know," said Herbert, "that's what I want to know. Because -it is decidedly the case with us. My poor sister Charlotte who was -next me and died before she was fourteen, was a striking example. -Little Jane is the same. In her desire to be matrimonially -established, you might suppose her to have passed her short -existence in the perpetual contemplation of domestic bliss. Little -Alick in a frock has already made arrangements for his union with a -suitable young person at Kew. And indeed, I think we are all -engaged, except the baby." -"Then you are?" said I. -"I am," said Herbert "but it's a secret." -I assured him of my keeping the secret, and begged to be favoured -with further particulars. He had spoken so sensibly and feelingly -of my weakness that I wanted to know something about his strength. -"May I ask the name?" I said. -"Name of Clara," said Herbert. -"Live in London?" -"Yes. Perhaps I ought to mention," said Herbert, who had become -curiously crestfallen and meek, since we entered on the interesting -theme, "that she is rather below my mother's nonsensical family -notions. Her father had to do with the victualling of -passengerships. I think he was a species of purser." -"What is he now?" said I. -"He's an invalid now," replied Herbert. -"Living on ?" -"On the first floor," said Herbert. Which was not at all what I -meant, for I had intended my question to apply to his means. "I -have never seen him, for he has always kept his room overhead, -since I have known Clara. But I have heard him constantly. He makes -tremendous rows roars, and pegs at the floor with some frightful -instrument." In looking at me and then laughing heartily, Herbert -for the time recovered his usual lively manner. -"Don't you expect to see him?" said I. -"Oh yes, I constantly expect to see him," returned Herbert, -"because I never hear him, without expecting him to come tumbling -through the ceiling. But I don't know how long the rafters may -hold." -When he had once more laughed heartily, he became meek again, and -told me that the moment he began to realize Capital, it was his -intention to marry this young lady. He added as a selfevident -proposition, engendering low spirits, "But you can't marry, you -know, while you're looking about you." -As we contemplated the fire, and as I thought what a difficult -vision to realize this same Capital sometimes was, I put my hands -in my pockets. A folded piece of paper in one of them attracting my -attention, I opened it and found it to be the playbill I had -received from Joe, relative to the celebrated provincial amateur of -Roscian renown. "And bless my heart," I involuntarily added aloud, -"it's tonight" -This changed the subject in an instant, and made us hurriedly -resolve to go to the play. So, when I had pledged myself to comfort -and abet Herbert in the affair of his heart by all practicable and -impracticable means, and when Herbert had told me that his -affianced already knew me by reputation and that I should be -presented to her, and when we had warmly shaken hands upon our -mutual confidence, we blew out our candles, made up our fire, -locked our door, and issued forth in quest of Mr. Wopsle and -Denmark. -Chapter -On our arrival in Denmark, we found the king and queen of that -country elevated in two armchairs on a kitchentable, holding a -Court. The whole of the Danish nobility were in attendance -consisting of a noble boy in the washleather boots of a gigantic -ancestor, a venerable Peer with a dirty face who seemed to have -risen from the people late in life, and the Danish chivalry with a -comb in its hair and a pair of white silk legs, and presenting on -the whole a feminine appearance. My gifted townsman stood gloomily -apart, with folded arms, and I could have wished that his curls and -forehead had been more probable. -Several curious little circumstances transpired as the action -proceeded. The late king of the country not only appeared to have -been troubled with a cough at the time of his decease, but to have -taken it with him to the tomb, and to have brought it back. The -royal phantom also carried a ghostly manuscript round its -truncheon, to which it had the appearance of occasionally -referring, and that, too, with an air of anxiety and a tendency to -lose the place of reference which were suggestive of a state of -mortality. It was this, I conceive, which led to the Shade's being -advised by the gallery to "turn over" a recommendation which it -took extremely ill. It was likewise to be noted of this majestic -spirit that whereas it always appeared with an air of having been -out a long time and walked an immense distance, it perceptibly came -from a closely contiguous wall. This occasioned its terrors to be -received derisively. The Queen of Denmark, a very buxom lady, -though no doubt historically brazen, was considered by the public -to have too much brass about her her chin being attached to her -diadem by a broad band of that metal as if she had a gorgeous -toothache, her waist being encircled by another, and each of her -arms by another, so that she was openly mentioned as "the -kettledrum." The noble boy in the ancestral boots, was -inconsistent representing himself, as it were in one breath, as an -able seaman, a strolling actor, a gravedigger, a clergyman, and a -person of the utmost importance at a Court fencingmatch, on the -authority of whose practised eye and nice discrimination the finest -strokes were judged. This gradually led to a want of toleration for -him, and even on his being detected in holy orders, and declining -to perform the funeral service to the general indignation taking -the form of nuts. Lastly, Ophelia was a prey to such slow musical -madness, that when, in course of time, she had taken off her white -muslin scarf, folded it up, and buried it, a sulky man who had been -long cooling his impatient nose against an iron bar in the front -row of the gallery, growled, "Now the baby's put to bed let's have -supper" Which, to say the least of it, was out of keeping. -Upon my unfortunate townsman all these incidents accumulated with -playful effect. Whenever that undecided Prince had to ask a -question or state a doubt, the public helped him out with it. As -for example on the question whether 'twas nobler in the mind to -suffer, some roared yes, and some no, and some inclining to both -opinions said "toss up for it" and quite a Debating Society arose. -When he asked what should such fellows as he do crawling between -earth and heaven, he was encouraged with loud cries of "Hear, -hear" When he appeared with his stocking disordered its disorder -expressed, according to usage, by one very neat fold in the top, -which I suppose to be always got up with a flat iron, a -conversation took place in the gallery respecting the paleness of -his leg, and whether it was occasioned by the turn the ghost had -given him. On his taking the recorders very like a little black -flute that had just been played in the orchestra and handed out at -the door he was called upon unanimously for Rule Britannia. When -he recommended the player not to saw the air thus, the sulky man -said, "And don't you do it, neither you're a deal worse than him" -And I grieve to add that peals of laughter greeted Mr. Wopsle on -every one of these occasions. -But his greatest trials were in the churchyard which had the -appearance of a primeval forest, with a kind of small -ecclesiastical washhouse on one side, and a turnpike gate on the -other. Mr. Wopsle in a comprehensive black cloak, being descried -entering at the turnpike, the gravedigger was admonished in a -friendly way, "Look out Here's the undertaker acoming, to see how -you're agetting on with your work" I believe it is well known in -a constitutional country that Mr. Wopsle could not possibly have -returned the skull, after moralizing over it, without dusting his -fingers on a white napkin taken from his breast but even that -innocent and indispensable action did not pass without the comment -"Waiter" The arrival of the body for interment in an empty black -box with the lid tumbling open, was the signal for a general joy -which was much enhanced by the discovery, among the bearers, of an -individual obnoxious to identification. The joy attended Mr. Wopsle -through his struggle with Laertes on the brink of the orchestra and -the grave, and slackened no more until he had tumbled the king off -the kitchentable, and had died by inches from the ankles upward. -We had made some pale efforts in the beginning to applaud Mr. -Wopsle but they were too hopeless to be persisted in. Therefore we -had sat, feeling keenly for him, but laughing, nevertheless, from -ear to ear. I laughed in spite of myself all the time, the whole -thing was so droll and yet I had a latent impression that there -was something decidedly fine in Mr. Wopsle's elocution not for old -associations' sake, I am afraid, but because it was very slow, very -dreary, very uphill and downhill, and very unlike any way in -which any man in any natural circumstances of life or death ever -expressed himself about anything. When the tragedy was over, and he -had been called for and hooted, I said to Herbert, "Let us go at -once, or perhaps we shall meet him." -We made all the haste we could downstairs, but we were not quick -enough either. Standing at the door was a Jewish man with an -unnatural heavy smear of eyebrow, who caught my eyes as we -advanced, and said, when we came up with him -"Mr. Pip and friend?" -Identity of Mr. Pip and friend confessed. -"Mr. Waldengarver," said the man, "would be glad to have the -honour." -"Waldengarver?" I repeated when Herbert murmured in my ear, -"Probably Wopsle." -"Oh" said I. "Yes. Shall we follow you?" -"A few steps, please." When we were in a side alley, he turned and -asked, "How did you think he looked? I dressed him." -I don't know what he had looked like, except a funeral with the -addition of a large Danish sun or star hanging round his neck by a -blue ribbon, that had given him the appearance of being insured in -some extraordinary Fire Office. But I said he had looked very nice. -"When he come to the grave," said our conductor, "he showed his -cloak beautiful. But, judging from the wing, it looked to me that -when he see the ghost in the queen's apartment, he might have made -more of his stockings." -I modestly assented, and we all fell through a little dirty swing -door, into a sort of hot packingcase immediately behind it. Here -Mr. Wopsle was divesting himself of his Danish garments, and here -there was just room for us to look at him over one another's -shoulders, by keeping the packingcase door, or lid, wide open. -"Gentlemen," said Mr. Wopsle, "I am proud to see you. I hope, Mr. -Pip, you will excuse my sending round. I had the happiness to know -you in former times, and the Drama has ever had a claim which has -ever been acknowledged, on the noble and the affluent." -Meanwhile, Mr. Waldengarver, in a frightful perspiration, was trying -to get himself out of his princely sables. -"Skin the stockings off, Mr. Waldengarver," said the owner of that -property, "or you'll bust 'em. Bust 'em, and you'll bust -fiveandthirty shillings. Shakspeare never was complimented with a -finer pair. Keep quiet in your chair now, and leave 'em to me." -With that, he went upon his knees, and began to flay his victim -who, on the first stocking coming off, would certainly have fallen -over backward with his chair, but for there being no room to fall -anyhow. -I had been afraid until then to say a word about the play. But -then, Mr. Waldengarver looked up at us complacently, and said -"Gentlemen, how did it seem to you, to go, in front?" -Herbert said from behind at the same time poking me, "capitally." -So I said "capitally." -"How did you like my reading of the character, gentlemen?" said Mr. -Waldengarver, almost, if not quite, with patronage. -Herbert said from behind again poking me, "massive and concrete." -So I said boldly, as if I had originated it, and must beg to insist -upon it, "massive and concrete." -"I am glad to have your approbation, gentlemen," said Mr. -Waldengarver, with an air of dignity, in spite of his being ground -against the wall at the time, and holding on by the seat of the -chair. -"But I'll tell you one thing, Mr. Waldengarver," said the man who -was on his knees, "in which you're out in your reading. Now mind I -don't care who says contrairy I tell you so. You're out in your -reading of Hamlet when you get your legs in profile. The last -Hamlet as I dressed, made the same mistakes in his reading at -rehearsal, till I got him to put a large red wafer on each of his -shins, and then at that rehearsal which was the last I went in -front, sir, to the back of the pit, and whenever his reading -brought him into profile, I called out "I don't see no wafers" And -at night his reading was lovely." -Mr. Waldengarver smiled at me, as much as to say "a faithful -dependent I overlook his folly" and then said aloud, "My view is -a little classic and thoughtful for them here but they will -improve, they will improve." -Herbert and I said together, Oh, no doubt they would improve. -"Did you observe, gentlemen," said Mr. Waldengarver, "that there was -a man in the gallery who endeavoured to cast derision on the -service I mean, the representation?" -We basely replied that we rather thought we had noticed such a man. -I added, "He was drunk, no doubt." -"Oh dear no, sir," said Mr. Wopsle, "not drunk. His employer would -see to that, sir. His employer would not allow him to be drunk." -"You know his employer?" said I. -Mr. Wopsle shut his eyes, and opened them again performing both -ceremonies very slowly. "You must have observed, gentlemen," said -he, "an ignorant and a blatant ass, with a rasping throat and a -countenance expressive of low malignity, who went through I will -not say sustained the role if I may use a French expression of -Claudius King of Denmark. That is his employer, gentlemen. Such is -the profession" -Without distinctly knowing whether I should have been more sorry -for Mr. Wopsle if he had been in despair, I was so sorry for him as -it was, that I took the opportunity of his turning round to have -his braces put on which jostled us out at the doorway to ask -Herbert what he thought of having him home to supper? Herbert said -he thought it would be kind to do so therefore I invited him, and -he went to Barnard's with us, wrapped up to the eyes, and we did -our best for him, and he sat until two o'clock in the morning, -reviewing his success and developing his plans. I forget in detail -what they were, but I have a general recollection that he was to -begin with reviving the Drama, and to end with crushing it -inasmuch as his decease would leave it utterly bereft and without a -chance or hope. -Miserably I went to bed after all, and miserably thought of -Estella, and miserably dreamed that my expectations were all -cancelled, and that I had to give my hand in marriage to Herbert's -Clara, or play Hamlet to Miss Havisham's Ghost, before twenty -thousand people, without knowing twenty words of it. -Chapter -One day when I was busy with my books and Mr. Pocket, I received a -note by the post, the mere outside of which threw me into a great -flutter for, though I had never seen the handwriting in which it -was addressed, I divined whose hand it was. It had no set -beginning, as Dear Mr. Pip, or Dear Pip, or Dear Sir, or Dear -Anything, but ran thus -"I am to come to London the day after tomorrow by the midday -coach. I believe it was settled you should meet me? At all events -Miss Havisham has that impression, and I write in obedience to it. -She sends you her regard. -Yours, ESTELLA." -If there had been time, I should probably have ordered several -suits of clothes for this occasion but as there was not, I was -fain to be content with those I had. My appetite vanished -instantly, and I knew no peace or rest until the day arrived. Not -that its arrival brought me either for, then I was worse than ever, -and began haunting the coachoffice in woodstreet, Cheapside, -before the coach had left the Blue Boar in our town. For all that I -knew this perfectly well, I still felt as if it were not safe to -let the coachoffice be out of my sight longer than five minutes at -a time and in this condition of unreason I had performed the first -halfhour of a watch of four or five hours, when Wemmick ran -against me. -"Halloa, Mr. Pip," said he "how do you do? I should hardly have -thought this was your beat." -I explained that I was waiting to meet somebody who was coming up -by coach, and I inquired after the Castle and the Aged. -"Both flourishing thankye," said Wemmick, "and particularly the -Aged. He's in wonderful feather. He'll be eightytwo next birthday. -I have a notion of firing eightytwo times, if the neighbourhood -shouldn't complain, and that cannon of mine should prove equal to -the pressure. However, this is not London talk. Where do you think -I am going to?" -"To the office?" said I, for he was tending in that direction. -"Next thing to it," returned Wemmick, "I am going to Newgate. We -are in a banker'sparcel case just at present, and I have been down -the road taking as squint at the scene of action, and thereupon -must have a word or two with our client." -"Did your client commit the robbery?" I asked. -"Bless your soul and body, no," answered Wemmick, very drily. "But -he is accused of it. So might you or I be. Either of us might be -accused of it, you know." -"Only neither of us is," I remarked. -"Yah" said Wemmick, touching me on the breast with his forefinger -"you're a deep one, Mr. Pip Would you like to have a look at -Newgate? Have you time to spare?" -I had so much time to spare, that the proposal came as a relief, -notwithstanding its irreconcilability with my latent desire to keep -my eye on the coachoffice. Muttering that I would make the inquiry -whether I had time to walk with him, I went into the office, and -ascertained from the clerk with the nicest precision and much to -the trying of his temper, the earliest moment at which the coach -could be expected which I knew beforehand, quite as well as he. I -then rejoined Mr. Wemmick, and affecting to consult my watch and to -be surprised by the information I had received, accepted his offer. -We were at Newgate in a few minutes, and we passed through the -lodge where some fetters were hanging up on the bare walls among -the prison rules, into the interior of the jail. At that time, -jails were much neglected, and the period of exaggerated reaction -consequent on all public wrongdoing and which is always its -heaviest and longest punishment was still far off. So, felons -were not lodged and fed better than soldiers to say nothing of -paupers, and seldom set fire to their prisons with the excusable -object of improving the flavour of their soup. It was visiting time -when Wemmick took me in and a potman was going his rounds with -beer and the prisoners, behind bars in yards, were buying beer, -and talking to friends and a frouzy, ugly, disorderly, depressing -scene it was. -It struck me that Wemmick walked among the prisoners, much as a -gardener might walk among his plants. This was first put into my -head by his seeing a shoot that had come up in the night, and -saying, "What, Captain Tom? Are you there? Ah, indeed" and also, -"Is that Black Bill behind the cistern? Why I didn't look for you -these two months how do you find yourself?" Equally in his -stopping at the bars and attending to anxious whisperers always -singly Wemmick with his postoffice in an immovable state, looked -at them while in conference, as if he were taking particular notice -of the advance they had made, since last observed, towards coming -out in full blow at their trial. -He was highly popular, and I found that he took the familiar -department of Mr. Jaggers's business though something of the state -of Mr. Jaggers hung about him too, forbidding approach beyond -certain limits. His personal recognition of each successive client -was comprised in a nod, and in his settling his hat a little easier -on his head with both hands, and then tightening the postoffice, -and putting his hands in his pockets. In one or two instances, -there was a difficulty respecting the raising of fees, and then Mr. -Wemmick, backing as far as possible from the insufficient money -produced, said, "it's no use, my boy. I'm only a subordinate. I -can't take it. Don't go on in that way with a subordinate. If you -are unable to make up your quantum, my boy, you had better address -yourself to a principal there are plenty of principals in the -profession, you know, and what is not worth the while of one, may -be worth the while of another that's my recommendation to you, -speaking as a subordinate. Don't try on useless measures. Why -should you? Now, who's next?" -Thus, we walked through Wemmick's greenhouse, until he turned to me -and said, "Notice the man I shall shake hands with." I should have -done so, without the preparation, as he had shaken hands with no -one yet. -Almost as soon as he had spoken, a portly upright man whom I can -see now, as I write in a wellworn olivecoloured frockcoat, with -a peculiar pallor overspreading the red in his complexion, and -eyes that went wandering about when he tried to fix them, came up -to a corner of the bars, and put his hand to his hat which had a -greasy and fatty surface like cold broth with a halfserious and -halfjocose military salute. -"Colonel, to you" said Wemmick "how are you, Colonel?" -"All right, Mr. Wemmick." -"Everything was done that could be done, but the evidence was too -strong for us, Colonel." -"Yes, it was too strong, sir but I don't care." -"No, no," said Wemmick, coolly, "you don't care." Then, turning to -me, "Served His Majesty this man. Was a soldier in the line and -bought his discharge." -I said, "Indeed?" and the man's eyes looked at me, and then looked -over my head, and then looked all round me, and then he drew his -hand across his lips and laughed. -"I think I shall be out of this on Monday, sir," he said to -Wemmick. -"Perhaps," returned my friend, "but there's no knowing." -"I am glad to have the chance of bidding you goodbye, Mr. Wemmick," -said the man, stretching out his hand between two bars. -"Thankye," said Wemmick, shaking hands with him. "Same to you, -Colonel." -"If what I had upon me when taken, had been real, Mr. Wemmick," said -the man, unwilling to let his hand go, "I should have asked the -favour of your wearing another ring in acknowledgment of your -attentions." -"I'll accept the will for the deed," said Wemmick. "Bythebye you -were quite a pigeonfancier." The man looked up at the sky. "I am -told you had a remarkable breed of tumblers. could you commission -any friend of yours to bring me a pair, of you've no further use -for 'em?" -"It shall be done, sir?" -"All right," said Wemmick, "they shall be taken care of. Good -afternoon, Colonel. Goodbye" They shook hands again, and as we -walked away Wemmick said to me, "A Coiner, a very good workman. The -Recorder's report is made today, and he is sure to be executed on -Monday. Still you see, as far as it goes, a pair of pigeons are -portable property, all the same." With that, he looked back, and -nodded at this dead plant, and then cast his eyes about him in -walking out of the yard, as if he were considering what other pot -would go best in its place. -As we came out of the prison through the lodge, I found that the -great importance of my guardian was appreciated by the turnkeys, no -less than by those whom they held in charge. "Well, Mr. Wemmick," -said the turnkey, who kept us between the two studded and spiked -lodge gates, and who carefully locked one before he unlocked the -other, "what's Mr. Jaggers going to do with that waterside murder? -Is he going to make it manslaughter, or what's he going to make of -it?" -"Why don't you ask him?" returned Wemmick. -"Oh yes, I dare say" said the turnkey. -"Now, that's the way with them here. Mr. Pip," remarked Wemmick, -turning to me with his postoffice elongated. "They don't mind what -they ask of me, the subordinate but you'll never catch 'em asking -any questions of my principal." -"Is this young gentleman one of the 'prentices or articled ones of -your office?" asked the turnkey, with a grin at Mr. Wemmick's -humour. -"There he goes again, you see" cried Wemmick, "I told you so Asks -another question of the subordinate before his first is dry Well, -supposing Mr. Pip is one of them?" -"Why then," said the turnkey, grinning again, "he knows what Mr. -Jaggers is." -"Yah" cried Wemmick, suddenly hitting out at the turnkey in a -facetious way, "you're dumb as one of your own keys when you have -to do with my principal, you know you are. Let us out, you old fox, -or I'll get him to bring an action against you for false -imprisonment." -The turnkey laughed, and gave us good day, and stood laughing at us -over the spikes of the wicket when we descended the steps into the -street. -"Mind you, Mr. Pip," said Wemmick, gravely in my ear, as he took my -arm to be more confidential "I don't know that Mr. Jaggers does a -better thing than the way in which he keeps himself so high. He's -always so high. His constant height is of a piece with his immense -abilities. That Colonel durst no more take leave of him, than that -turnkey durst ask him his intentions respecting a case. Then, -between his height and them, he slips in his subordinate don't -you see? and so he has 'em, soul and body." -I was very much impressed, and not for the first time, by my -guardian's subtlety. To confess the truth, I very heartily wished, -and not for the first time, that I had had some other guardian of -minor abilities. -Mr. Wemmick and I parted at the office in Little Britain, where -suppliants for Mr. Jaggers's notice were lingering about as usual, -and I returned to my watch in the street of the coachoffice, with -some three hours on hand. I consumed the whole time in thinking how -strange it was that I should be encompassed by all this taint of -prison and crime that, in my childhood out on our lonely marshes -on a winter evening I should have first encountered it that, it -should have reappeared on two occasions, starting out like a stain -that was faded but not gone that, it should in this new way -pervade my fortune and advancement. While my mind was thus engaged, -I thought of the beautiful young Estella, proud and refined, coming -towards me, and I thought with absolute abhorrence of the contrast -between the jail and her. I wished that Wemmick had not met me, or -that I had not yielded to him and gone with him, so that, of all -days in the year on this day, I might not have had Newgate in my -breath and on my clothes. I beat the prison dust off my feet as I -sauntered to and fro, and I shook it out of my dress, and I exhaled -its air from my lungs. So contaminated did I feel, remembering who -was coming, that the coach came quickly after all, and I was not -yet free from the soiling consciousness of Mr. Wemmick's -conservatory, when I saw her face at the coach window and her hand -waving to me. -What was the nameless shadow which again in that one instant had -passed? -Chapter -In her furred travellingdress, Estella seemed more delicately -beautiful than she had ever seemed yet, even in my eyes. Her manner -was more winning than she had cared to let it be to me before, and -I thought I saw Miss Havisham's influence in the change. -We stood in the Inn Yard while she pointed out her luggage to me, -and when it was all collected I remembered having forgotten -everything but herself in the meanwhile that I knew nothing of -her destination. -"I am going to Richmond," she told me. "Our lesson is, that there -are two Richmonds, one in Surrey and one in Yorkshire, and that mine -is the Surrey Richmond. The distance is ten miles. I am to have a -carriage, and you are to take me. This is my purse, and you are to -pay my charges out of it. Oh, you must take the purse We have no -choice, you and I, but to obey our instructions. We are not free to -follow our own devices, you and I." -As she looked at me in giving me the purse, I hoped there was an -inner meaning in her words. She said them slightingly, but not with -displeasure. -"A carriage will have to be sent for, Estella. Will you rest here a -little?" -"Yes, I am to rest here a little, and I am to drink some tea, and -you are to take care of me the while." -She drew her arm through mine, as if it must be done, and I -requested a waiter who had been staring at the coach like a man who -had never seen such a thing in his life, to show us a private -sittingroom. Upon that, he pulled out a napkin, as if it were a -magic clue without which he couldn't find the way upstairs, and -led us to the black hole of the establishment fitted up with a -diminishing mirror quite a superfluous article considering the -hole's proportions, an anchovy saucecruet, and somebody's -pattens. On my objecting to this retreat, he took us into another -room with a dinnertable for thirty, and in the grate a scorched -leaf of a copybook under a bushel of coaldust. Having looked at -this extinct conflagration and shaken his head, he took my order -which, proving to be merely "Some tea for the lady," sent him out -of the room in a very low state of mind. -I was, and I am, sensible that the air of this chamber, in its -strong combination of stable with soupstock, might have led one to -infer that the coaching department was not doing well, and that the -enterprising proprietor was boiling down the horses for the -refreshment department. Yet the room was all in all to me, Estella -being in it. I thought that with her I could have been happy there -for life. I was not at all happy there at the time, observe, and I -knew it well. -"Where are you going to, at Richmond?" I asked Estella. -"I am going to live," said she, "at a great expense, with a lady -there, who has the power or says she has of taking me about, -and introducing me, and showing people to me and showing me to -people." -"I suppose you will be glad of variety and admiration?" -"Yes, I suppose so." -She answered so carelessly, that I said, "You speak of yourself as -if you were some one else." -"Where did you learn how I speak of others? Come, come," said -Estella, smiling delightfully, "you must not expect me to go to -school to you I must talk in my own way. How do you thrive with -Mr. Pocket?" -"I live quite pleasantly there at least" It appeared to me that -I was losing a chance. -"At least?" repeated Estella. -"As pleasantly as I could anywhere, away from you." -"You silly boy," said Estella, quite composedly, "how can you talk -such nonsense? Your friend Mr. Matthew, I believe, is superior to -the rest of his family?" -"Very superior indeed. He is nobody's enemy" -"Don't add but his own," interposed Estella, "for I hate that class -of man. But he really is disinterested, and above small jealousy -and spite, I have heard?" -"I am sure I have every reason to say so." -"You have not every reason to say so of the rest of his people," -said Estella, nodding at me with an expression of face that was at -once grave and rallying, "for they beset Miss Havisham with reports -and insinuations to your disadvantage. They watch you, misrepresent -you, write letters about you anonymous sometimes, and you are the -torment and the occupation of their lives. You can scarcely realize -to yourself the hatred those people feel for you." -"They do me no harm, I hope?" -Instead of answering, Estella burst out laughing. This was very -singular to me, and I looked at her in considerable perplexity. -When she left off and she had not laughed languidly, but with -real enjoyment I said, in my diffident way with her -"I hope I may suppose that you would not be amused if they did me -any harm." -"No, no you may be sure of that," said Estella. "You may be certain -that I laugh because they fail. Oh, those people with Miss -Havisham, and the tortures they undergo" She laughed again, and -even now when she had told me why, her laughter was very singular -to me, for I could not doubt its being genuine, and yet it seemed -too much for the occasion. I thought there must really be something -more here than I knew she saw the thought in my mind, and answered -it. -"It is not easy for even you." said Estella, "to know what -satisfaction it gives me to see those people thwarted, or what an -enjoyable sense of the ridiculous I have when they are made -ridiculous. For you were not brought up in that strange house from -a mere baby. I was. You had not your little wits sharpened by -their intriguing against you, suppressed and defenceless, under the -mask of sympathy and pity and what not that is soft and soothing. -I had. You did not gradually open your round childish eyes wider -and wider to the discovery of that impostor of a woman who -calculates her stores of peace of mind for when she wakes up in the -night. I did." -It was no laughing matter with Estella now, nor was she summoning -these remembrances from any shallow place. I would not have been -the cause of that look of hers, for all my expectations in a heap. -"Two things I can tell you," said Estella. "First, notwithstanding -the proverb that constant dropping will wear away a stone, you may -set your mind at rest that these people never will never would, -in hundred years impair your ground with Miss Havisham, in any -particular, great or small. Second, I am beholden to you as the -cause of their being so busy and so mean in vain, and there is my -hand upon it." -As she gave it me playfully for her darker mood had been but -momentary I held it and put it to my lips. "You ridiculous boy," -said Estella, "will you never take warning? Or do you kiss my hand -in the same spirit in which I once let you kiss my cheek?" -"What spirit was that?" said I. -"I must think a moment A spirit of contempt for the fawners and -plotters." -"If I say yes, may I kiss the cheek again?" -"You should have asked before you touched the hand. But, yes, if -you like." -I leaned down, and her calm face was like a statue's. "Now," said -Estella, gliding away the instant I touched her cheek, "you are to -take care that I have some tea, and you are to take me to -Richmond." -Her reverting to this tone as if our association were forced upon -us and we were mere puppets, gave me pain but everything in our -intercourse did give me pain. Whatever her tone with me happened to -be, I could put no trust in it, and build no hope on it and yet I -went on against trust and against hope. Why repeat it a thousand -times? So it always was. -I rang for the tea, and the waiter, reappearing with his magic -clue, brought in by degrees some fifty adjuncts to that refreshment -but of tea not a glimpse. A teaboard, cups and saucers, plates, -knives and forks including carvers, spoons various, -saltcellars, a meek little muffin confined with the utmost -precaution under a strong iron cover, Moses in the bullrushes -typified by a soft bit of butter in a quantity of parsley, a pale -loaf with a powdered head, two proof impressions of the bars of the -kitchen fireplace on triangular bits of bread, and ultimately a -fat family urn which the waiter staggered in with, expressing in -his countenance burden and suffering. After a prolonged absence at -this stage of the entertainment, he at length came back with a -casket of precious appearance containing twigs. These I steeped in -hot water, and so from the whole of these appliances extracted one -cup of I don't know what, for Estella. -The bill paid, and the waiter remembered, and the ostler not -forgotten, and the chambermaid taken into consideration in a -word, the whole house bribed into a state of contempt and -animosity, and Estella's purse much lightened we got into our -postcoach and drove away. Turning into Cheapside and rattling up -Newgatestreet, we were soon under the walls of which I was so -ashamed. -"What place is that?" Estella asked me. -I made a foolish pretence of not at first recognizing it, and then -told her. As she looked at it, and drew in her head again, -murmuring "Wretches" I would not have confessed to my visit for -any consideration. -"Mr. Jaggers," said I, by way of putting it neatly on somebody else, -"has the reputation of being more in the secrets of that dismal -place than any man in London." -"He is more in the secrets of every place, I think," said Estella, -in a low voice. -"You have been accustomed to see him often, I suppose?" -"I have been accustomed to see him at uncertain intervals, ever -since I can remember. But I know him no better now, than I did -before I could speak plainly. What is your own experience of him? -Do you advance with him?" -"Once habituated to his distrustful manner," said I, "I have done -very well." -"Are you intimate?" -"I have dined with him at his private house." -"I fancy," said Estella, shrinking "that must be a curious place." -"It is a curious place." -I should have been chary of discussing my guardian too freely even -with her but I should have gone on with the subject so far as to -describe the dinner in Gerrardstreet, if we had not then come into -a sudden glare of gas. It seemed, while it lasted, to be all alight -and alive with that inexplicable feeling I had had before and when -we were out of it, I was as much dazed for a few moments as if I -had been in Lightning. -So, we fell into other talk, and it was principally about the way -by which we were travelling, and about what parts of London lay on -this side of it, and what on that. The great city was almost new to -her, she told me, for she had never left Miss Havisham's -neighbourhood until she had gone to France, and she had merely -passed through London then in going and returning. I asked her if -my guardian had any charge of her while she remained here? To that -she emphatically said "God forbid" and no more. -It was impossible for me to avoid seeing that she cared to attract -me that she made herself winning and would have won me even if -the task had needed pains. Yet this made me none the happier, for, -even if she had not taken that tone of our being disposed of by -others, I should have felt that she held my heart in her hand -because she wilfully chose to do it, and not because it would have -wrung any tenderness in her, to crush it and throw it away. -When we passed through Hammersmith, I showed her where Mr. Matthew -Pocket lived, and said it was no great way from Richmond, and that -I hoped I should see her sometimes. -"Oh yes, you are to see me you are to come when you think proper -you are to be mentioned to the family indeed you are already -mentioned." -I inquired was it a large household she was going to be a member -of? -"No there are only two mother and daughter. The mother is a lady -of some station, though not averse to increasing her income." -"I wonder Miss Havisham could part with you again so soon." -"It is a part of Miss Havisham's plans for me, Pip," said Estella, -with a sigh, as if she were tired "I am to write to her constantly -and see her regularly and report how I go on I and the jewels -for they are nearly all mine now." -It was the first time she had ever called me by my name. Of course -she did so, purposely, and knew that I should treasure it up. -We came to Richmond all too soon, and our destination there, was a -house by the Green a staid old house, where hoops and powder and -patches, embroidered coats rolled stockings ruffles and swords, had -had their court days many a time. Some ancient trees before the -house were still cut into fashions as formal and unnatural as the -hoops and wigs and stiff skirts but their own allotted places in -the great procession of the dead were not far off, and they would -soon drop into them and go the silent way of the rest. -A bell with an old voice which I dare say in its time had often -said to the house, Here is the green farthingale, Here is the -diamondhilted sword, Here are the shoes with red heels and the blue -solitaire, sounded gravely in the moonlight, and two -cherrycoloured maids came fluttering out to receive Estella. The -doorway soon absorbed her boxes, and she gave me her hand and a -smile, and said good night, and was absorbed likewise. And still I -stood looking at the house, thinking how happy I should be if I -lived there with her, and knowing that I never was happy with her, -but always miserable. -I got into the carriage to be taken back to Hammersmith, and I got -in with a bad heartache, and I got out with a worse heartache. At -our own door, I found little Jane Pocket coming home from a little -party escorted by her little lover and I envied her little lover, -in spite of his being subject to Flopson. -Mr. Pocket was out lecturing for, he was a most delightful lecturer -on domestic economy, and his treatises on the management of -children and servants were considered the very best textbooks on -those themes. But, Mrs. Pocket was at home, and was in a little -difficulty, on account of the baby's having been accommodated with -a needlecase to keep him quiet during the unaccountable absence -with a relative in the Foot Guards of Millers. And more needles -were missing, than it could be regarded as quite wholesome for a -patient of such tender years either to apply externally or to take -as a tonic. -Mr. Pocket being justly celebrated for giving most excellent -practical advice, and for having a clear and sound perception of -things and a highly judicious mind, I had some notion in my -heartache of begging him to accept my confidence. But, happening to -look up at Mrs. Pocket as she sat reading her book of dignities -after prescribing Bed as a sovereign remedy for baby, I thought -Well No, I wouldn't. -Chapter -As I had grown accustomed to my expectations, I had insensibly -begun to notice their effect upon myself and those around me. Their -influence on my own character, I disguised from my recognition as -much as possible, but I knew very well that it was not all good. I -lived in a state of chronic uneasiness respecting my behaviour to -Joe. My conscience was not by any means comfortable about Biddy. -When I woke up in the night like Camilla I used to think, with -a weariness on my spirits, that I should have been happier and -better if I had never seen Miss Havisham's face, and had risen to -manhood content to be partners with Joe in the honest old forge. -Many a time of an evening, when I sat alone looking at the fire, I -thought, after all, there was no fire like the forge fire and the -kitchen fire at home. -Yet Estella was so inseparable from all my restlessness and -disquiet of mind, that I really fell into confusion as to the -limits of my own part in its production. That is to say, supposing -I had had no expectations, and yet had had Estella to think of, I -could not make out to my satisfaction that I should have done much -better. Now, concerning the influence of my position on others, I -was in no such difficulty, and so I perceived though dimly enough -perhaps that it was not beneficial to anybody, and, above all, -that it was not beneficial to Herbert. My lavish habits led his -easy nature into expenses that he could not afford, corrupted the -simplicity of his life, and disturbed his peace with anxieties and -regrets. I was not at all remorseful for having unwittingly set -those other branches of the Pocket family to the poor arts they -practised because such littlenesses were their natural bent, and -would have been evoked by anybody else, if I had left them -slumbering. But Herbert's was a very different case, and it often -caused me a twinge to think that I had done him evil service in -crowding his sparelyfurnished chambers with incongruous upholstery -work, and placing the canarybreasted Avenger at his disposal. -So now, as an infallible way of making little ease great ease, I -began to contract a quantity of debt. I could hardly begin but -Herbert must begin too, so he soon followed. At Startop's -suggestion, we put ourselves down for election into a club called -The Finches of the Grove the object of which institution I have -never divined, if it were not that the members should dine -expensively once a fortnight, to quarrel among themselves as much -as possible after dinner, and to cause six waiters to get drunk on -the stairs. I Know that these gratifying social ends were so -invariably accomplished, that Herbert and I understood nothing else -to be referred to in the first standing toast of the society which -ran "Gentlemen, may the present promotion of good feeling ever -reign predominant among the Finches of the Grove." -The Finches spent their money foolishly the Hotel we dined at was -in Coventgarden, and the first Finch I saw, when I had the honour -of joining the Grove, was Bentley Drummle at that time floundering -about town in a cab of his own, and doing a great deal of damage to -the posts at the street corners. Occasionally, he shot himself out -of his equipage headforemost over the apron and I saw him on one -occasion deliver himself at the door of the Grove in this -unintentional way like coals. But here I anticipate a little for -I was not a Finch, and could not be, according to the sacred laws -of the society, until I came of age. -In my confidence in my own resources, I would willingly have taken -Herbert's expenses on myself but Herbert was proud, and I could -make no such proposal to him. So, he got into difficulties in every -direction, and continued to look about him. When we gradually fell -into keeping late hours and late company, I noticed that he looked -about him with a desponding eye at breakfasttime that he began to -look about him more hopefully about midday that he drooped when -he came into dinner that he seemed to descry Capital in the -distance rather clearly, after dinner that he all but realized -Capital towards midnight and that at about two o'clock in the -morning, he became so deeply despondent again as to talk of buying -a rifle and going to America, with a general purpose of compelling -buffaloes to make his fortune. -I was usually at Hammersmith about half the week, and when I was at -Hammersmith I haunted Richmond whereof separately byandby. -Herbert would often come to Hammersmith when I was there, and I -think at those seasons his father would occasionally have some -passing perception that the opening he was looking for, had not -appeared yet. But in the general tumbling up of the family, his -tumbling out in life somewhere, was a thing to transact itself -somehow. In the meantime Mr. Pocket grew greyer, and tried oftener -to lift himself out of his perplexities by the hair. While Mrs. -Pocket tripped up the family with her footstool, read her book of -dignities, lost her pockethandkerchief, told us about her -grandpapa, and taught the young idea how to shoot, by shooting it -into bed whenever it attracted her notice. -As I am now generalizing a period of my life with the object of -clearing my way before me, I can scarcely do so better than by at -once completing the description of our usual manners and customs at -Barnard's Inn. -We spent as much money as we could, and got as little for it as -people could make up their minds to give us. We were always more or -less miserable, and most of our acquaintance were in the same -condition. There was a gay fiction among us that we were constantly -enjoying ourselves, and a skeleton truth that we never did. To the -best of my belief, our case was in the last aspect a rather common -one. -Every morning, with an air ever new, Herbert went into the City to -look about him. I often paid him a visit in the dark backroom in -which he consorted with an inkjar, a hatpeg, a coalbox, a -stringbox, an almanack, a desk and stool, and a ruler and I do -not remember that I ever saw him do anything else but look about -him. If we all did what we undertake to do, as faithfully as -Herbert did, we might live in a Republic of the Virtues. He had -nothing else to do, poor fellow, except at a certain hour of every -afternoon to "go to Lloyd's" in observance of a ceremony of -seeing his principal, I think. He never did anything else in -connexion with Lloyd's that I could find out, except come back -again. When he felt his case unusually serious, and that he -positively must find an opening, he would go on 'Change at a busy -time, and walk in and out, in a kind of gloomy country dance -figure, among the assembled magnates. "For," says Herbert to me, -coming home to dinner on one of those special occasions, "I find -the truth to be, Handel, that an opening won't come to one, but one -must go to it so I have been." -If we had been less attached to one another, I think we must have -hated one another regularly every morning. I detested the chambers -beyond expression at that period of repentance, and could not -endure the sight of the Avenger's livery which had a more -expensive and a less remunerative appearance then, than at any -other time in the fourandtwenty hours. As we got more and more -into debt breakfast became a hollower and hollower form, and, being -on one occasion at breakfasttime threatened by letter with legal -proceedings, "not unwholly unconnected," as my local paper might -put it, "with jewellery," I went so far as to seize the Avenger by -his blue collar and shake him off his feet so that he was -actually in the air, like a booted Cupid for presuming to suppose -that we wanted a roll. -At certain times meaning at uncertain times, for they depended on -our humour I would say to Herbert, as if it were a remarkable -discovery -"My dear Herbert, we are getting on badly." -"My dear Handel," Herbert would say to me, in all sincerity, if you -will believe me, those very words were on my lips, by a strange -coincidence." -"Then, Herbert," I would respond, "let us look into out affairs." -We always derived profound satisfaction from making an appointment -for this purpose. I always thought this was business, this was the -way to confront the thing, this was the way to take the foe by the -throat. And I know Herbert thought so too. -We ordered something rather special for dinner, with a bottle of -something similarly out of the common way, in order that our minds -might be fortified for the occasion, and we might come well up to -the mark. Dinner over, we produced a bundle of pens, a copious -supply of ink, and a goodly show of writing and blotting paper. -For, there was something very comfortable in having plenty of -stationery. -I would then take a sheet of paper, and write across the top of it, -in a neat hand, the heading, "Memorandum of Pip's debts" with -Barnard's Inn and the date very carefully added. Herbert would also -take a sheet of paper, and write across it with similar -formalities, "Memorandum of Herbert's debts." -Each of us would then refer to a confused heap of papers at his -side, which had been thrown into drawers, worn into holes in -Pockets, halfburnt in lighting candles, stuck for weeks into the -lookingglass, and otherwise damaged. The sound of our pens going, -refreshed us exceedingly, insomuch that I sometimes found it -difficult to distinguish between this edifying business proceeding -and actually paying the money. In point of meritorious character, -the two things seemed about equal. -When we had written a little while, I would ask Herbert how he got -on? Herbert probably would have been scratching his head in a most -rueful manner at the sight of his accumulating figures. -"They are mounting up, Handel," Herbert would say "upon my life, -they are mounting up." -"Be firm, Herbert," I would retort, plying my own pen with great -assiduity. "Look the thing in the face. Look into your affairs. -Stare them out of countenance." -"So I would, Handel, only they are staring me out of countenance." -However, my determined manner would have its effect, and Herbert -would fall to work again. After a time he would give up once more, -on the plea that he had not got Cobbs's bill, or Lobbs's, or -Nobbs's, as the case might be. -"Then, Herbert, estimate estimate it in round numbers, and put it -down." -"What a fellow of resource you are" my friend would reply, with -admiration. "Really your business powers are very remarkable." -I thought so too. I established with myself on these occasions, the -reputation of a firstrate man of business prompt, decisive, -energetic, clear, coolheaded. When I had got all my -responsibilities down upon my list, I compared each with the bill, -and ticked it off. My selfapproval when I ticked an entry was -quite a luxurious sensation. When I had no more ticks to make, I -folded all my bills up uniformly, docketed each on the back, and -tied the whole into a symmetrical bundle. Then I did the same for -Herbert who modestly said he had not my administrative genius, -and felt that I had brought his affairs into a focus for him. -My business habits had one other bright feature, which i called -"leaving a Margin." For example supposing Herbert's debts to be -one hundred and sixtyfour pounds fourandtwopence, I would say, -"Leave a margin, and put them down at two hundred." Or, supposing -my own to be four times as much, I would leave a margin, and put -them down at seven hundred. I had the highest opinion of the wisdom -of this same Margin, but I am bound to acknowledge that on looking -back, I deem it to have been an expensive device. For, we always -ran into new debt immediately, to the full extent of the margin, -and sometimes, in the sense of freedom and solvency it imparted, -got pretty far on into another margin. -But there was a calm, a rest, a virtuous hush, consequent on these -examinations of our affairs that gave me, for the time, an -admirable opinion of myself. Soothed by my exertions, my method, -and Herbert's compliments, I would sit with his symmetrical bundle -and my own on the table before me among the stationary, and feel -like a Bank of some sort, rather than a private individual. -We shut our outer door on these solemn occasions, in order that we -might not be interrupted. I had fallen into my serene state one -evening, when we heard a letter dropped through the slit in the -said door, and fall on the ground. "It's for you, Handel," said -Herbert, going out and coming back with it, "and I hope there is -nothing the matter." This was in allusion to its heavy black seal -and border. -The letter was signed TRABB CO., and its contents were simply, -that I was an honoured sir, and that they begged to inform me that -Mrs. J. Gargery had departed this life on Monday last, at twenty -minutes past six in the evening, and that my attendance was -requested at the interment on Monday next at three o'clock in the -afternoon. -Chapter -It was the first time that a grave had opened in my road of life, -and the gap it made in the smooth ground was wonderful. The figure -of my sister in her chair by the kitchen fire, haunted me night and -day. That the place could possibly be, without her, was something -my mind seemed unable to compass and whereas she had seldom or -never been in my thoughts of late, I had now the strangest ideas -that she was coming towards me in the street, or that she would -presently knock at the door. In my rooms too, with which she had -never been at all associated, there was at once the blankness of -death and a perpetual suggestion of the sound of her voice or the -turn of her face or figure, as if she were still alive and had been -often there. -Whatever my fortunes might have been, I could scarcely have -recalled my sister with much tenderness. But I suppose there is a -shock of regret which may exist without much tenderness. Under its -influence and perhaps to make up for the want of the softer -feeling I was seized with a violent indignation against the -assailant from whom she had suffered so much and I felt that on -sufficient proof I could have revengefully pursued Orlick, or any -one else, to the last extremity. -Having written to Joe, to offer consolation, and to assure him that -I should come to the funeral, I passed the intermediate days in the -curious state of mind I have glanced at. I went down early in the -morning, and alighted at the Blue Boar in good time to walk over to -the forge. -It was fine summer weather again, and, as I walked along, the times -when I was a little helpless creature, and my sister did not spare -me, vividly returned. But they returned with a gentle tone upon -them that softened even the edge of Tickler. For now, the very -breath of the beans and clover whispered to my heart that the day -must come when it would be well for my memory that others walking -in the sunshine should be softened as they thought of me. -At last I came within sight of the house, and saw that Trabb and -Co. had put in a funereal execution and taken possession. Two -dismally absurd persons, each ostentatiously exhibiting a crutch -done up in a black bandage as if that instrument could possibly -communicate any comfort to anybody were posted at the front door -and in one of them I recognized a postboy discharged from the Boar -for turning a young couple into a sawpit on their bridal morning, -in consequence of intoxication rendering it necessary for him to -ride his horse clasped round the neck with both arms. All the -children of the village, and most of the women, were admiring these -sable warders and the closed windows of the house and forge and as -I came up, one of the two warders the postboy knocked at the door -implying that I was far too much exhausted by grief, to have -strength remaining to knock for myself. -Another sable warder a carpenter, who had once eaten two geese for -a wager opened the door, and showed me into the best parlour. -Here, Mr. Trabb had taken unto himself the best table, and had got -all the leaves up, and was holding a kind of black Bazaar, with the -aid of a quantity of black pins. At the moment of my arrival, he -had just finished putting somebody's hat into black longclothes, -like an African baby so he held out his hand for mine. But I, -misled by the action, and confused by the occasion, shook hands -with him with every testimony of warm affection. -Poor dear Joe, entangled in a little black cloak tied in a large -bow under his chin, was seated apart at the upper end of the room -where, as chief mourner, he had evidently been stationed by Trabb. -When I bent down and said to him, "Dear Joe, how are you?" he said, -"Pip, old chap, you knowed her when she were a fine figure of a" -and clasped my hand and said no more. -Biddy, looking very neat and modest in her black dress, went -quietly here and there, and was very helpful. When I had spoken to -Biddy, as I thought it not a time for talking I went and sat down -near Joe, and there began to wonder in what part of the house it -she my sister was. The air of the parlour being faint with the -smell of sweet cake, I looked about for the table of refreshments -it was scarcely visible until one had got accustomed to the gloom, -but there was a cutup plumcake upon it, and there were cutup -oranges, and sandwiches, and biscuits, and two decanters that I -knew very well as ornaments, but had never seen used in all my -life one full of port, and one of sherry. Standing at this table, -I became conscious of the servile Pumblechook in a black cloak and -several yards of hatband, who was alternately stuffing himself, and -making obsequious movements to catch my attention. The moment he -succeeded, he came over to me breathing sherry and crumbs, and -said in a subdued voice, "May I, dear sir?" and did. I then -descried Mr. and Mrs. Hubble the lastnamed in a decent speechless -paroxysm in a corner. We were all going to "follow," and were all -in course of being tied up separately by Trabb into ridiculous -bundles. -"Which I meantersay, Pip," Joe whispered me, as we were being what -Mr. Trabb called "formed" in the parlour, two and two and it was -dreadfully like a preparation for some grim kind of dance "which I -meantersay, sir, as I would in preference have carried her to the -church myself, along with three or four friendly ones wot come to -it with willing harts and arms, but it were considered wot the -neighbours would look down on such and would be of opinions as it -were wanting in respect." -"Pockethandkerchiefs out, all" cried Mr. Trabb at this point, in a -depressed businesslike voice. "Pockethandkerchiefs out We are -ready" -So, we all put our pockethandkerchiefs to our faces, as if our -noses were bleeding, and filed out two and two Joe and I Biddy -and Pumblechook Mr. and Mrs. Hubble. The remains of my poor sister -had been brought round by the kitchen door, and, it being a point -of Undertaking ceremony that the six bearers must be stifled and -blinded under a horrible black velvet housing with a white border, -the whole looked like a blind monster with twelve human legs, -shuffling and blundering along, under the guidance of two keepers -the postboy and his comrade. -The neighbourhood, however, highly approved of these arrangements, -and we were much admired as we went through the village the more -youthful and vigorous part of the community making dashes now and -then to cut us off, and lying in wait to intercept us at points of -vantage. At such times the more exuberant among them called out in -an excited manner on our emergence round some corner of expectancy, -"Here they come" "Here they are" and we were all but cheered. In -this progress I was much annoyed by the abject Pumblechook, who, -being behind me, persisted all the way as a delicate attention in -arranging my streaming hatband, and smoothing my cloak. My thoughts -were further distracted by the excessive pride of Mr. and Mrs. -Hubble, who were surpassingly conceited and vainglorious in being -members of so distinguished a procession. -And now, the range of marshes lay clear before us, with the sails -of the ships on the river growing out of it and we went into the -churchyard, close to the graves of my unknown parents, Philip -Pirrip, late of this parish, and Also Georgiana, Wife of the Above. -And there, my sister was laid quietly in the earth while the larks -sang high above it, and the light wind strewed it with beautiful -shadows of clouds and trees. -Of the conduct of the worldlyminded Pumblechook while this was -doing, I desire to say no more than it was all addressed to me and -that even when those noble passages were read which remind humanity -how it brought nothing into the world and can take nothing out, and -how it fleeth like a shadow and never continueth long in one stay, -I heard him cough a reservation of the case of a young gentleman -who came unexpectedly into large property. When we got back, he had -the hardihood to tell me that he wished my sister could have known -I had done her so much honour, and to hint that she would have -considered it reasonably purchased at the price of her death. After -that, he drank all the rest of the sherry, and Mr. Hubble drank the -port, and the two talked which I have since observed to be -customary in such cases as if they were of quite another race from -the deceased, and were notoriously immortal. Finally, he went away -with Mr. and Mrs. Hubble to make an evening of it, I felt sure, and -to tell the Jolly Bargemen that he was the founder of my fortunes -and my earliest benefactor. -When they were all gone, and when Trabb and his men but not his -boy I looked for him had crammed their mummery into bags, and -were gone too, the house felt wholesomer. Soon afterwards, Biddy, -Joe, and I, had a cold dinner together but we dined in the best -parlour, not in the old kitchen, and Joe was so exceedingly -particular what he did with his knife and fork and the saltcellar -and what not, that there was great restraint upon us. But after -dinner, when I made him take his pipe, and when I had loitered with -him about the forge, and when we sat down together on the great -block of stone outside it, we got on better. I noticed that after -the funeral Joe changed his clothes so far, as to make a compromise -between his Sunday dress and working dress in which the dear -fellow looked natural, and like the Man he was. -He was very much pleased by my asking if I might sleep in my own -little room, and I was pleased too for, I felt that I had done -rather a great thing in making the request. When the shadows of -evening were closing in, I took an opportunity of getting into the -garden with Biddy for a little talk. -"Biddy," said I, "I think you might have written to me about these -sad matters." -"Do you, Mr. Pip?" said Biddy. "I should have written if I had -thought that." -"Don't suppose that I mean to be unkind, Biddy, when I say I -consider that you ought to have thought that." -"Do you, Mr. Pip?" -She was so quiet, and had such an orderly, good, and pretty way -with her, that I did not like the thought of making her cry again. -After looking a little at her downcast eyes as she walked beside -me, I gave up that point. -"I suppose it will be difficult for you to remain here now, Biddy -dear?" -"Oh I can't do so, Mr. Pip," said Biddy, in a tone of regret, but -still of quiet conviction. "I have been speaking to Mrs. Hubble, and -I am going to her tomorrow. I hope we shall be able to take some -care of Mr. Gargery, together, until he settles down." -"How are you going to live, Biddy? If you want any mo" -"How am I going to live?" repeated Biddy, striking in, with a -momentary flush upon her face. "I'll tell you, Mr. Pip. I am going -to try to get the place of mistress in the new school nearly -finished here. I can be well recommended by all the neighbours, and -I hope I can be industrious and patient, and teach myself while I -teach others. You know, Mr. Pip," pursued Biddy, with a smile, as -she raised her eyes to my face, "the new schools are not like the -old, but I learnt a good deal from you after that time, and have -had time since then to improve." -"I think you would always improve, Biddy, under any circumstances." -"Ah Except in my bad side of human nature," murmured Biddy. -It was not so much a reproach, as an irresistible thinking aloud. -Well I thought I would give up that point too. So, I walked a -little further with Biddy, looking silently at her downcast eyes. -"I have not heard the particulars of my sister's death, Biddy." -"They are very slight, poor thing. She had been in one of her bad -states though they had got better of late, rather than worse -for four days, when she came out of it in the evening, just at -teatime, and said quite plainly, 'Joe.' As she had never said any -word for a long while, I ran and fetched in Mr. Gargery from the -forge. She made signs to me that she wanted him to sit down close -to her, and wanted me to put her arms round his neck. So I put them -round his neck, and she laid her head down on his shoulder quite -content and satisfied. And so she presently said 'Joe' again, and -once 'Pardon,' and once 'Pip.' And so she never lifted her head up -any more, and it was just an hour later when we laid it down on her -own bed, because we found she was gone." -Biddy cried the darkening garden, and the lane, and the stars that -were coming out, were blurred in my own sight. -"Nothing was ever discovered, Biddy?" -"Nothing." -"Do you know what is become of Orlick?" -"I should think from the colour of his clothes that he is working -in the quarries." -"Of course you have seen him then? Why are you looking at that -dark tree in the lane?" -"I saw him there, on the night she died." -"That was not the last time either, Biddy?" -"No I have seen him there, since we have been walking here. It -is of no use," said Biddy, laying her hand upon my arm, as I was -for running out, "you know I would not deceive you he was not -there a minute, and he is gone." -It revived my utmost indignation to find that she was still pursued -by this fellow, and I felt inveterate against him. I told her so, -and told her that I would spend any money or take any pains to -drive him out of that country. By degrees she led me into more -temperate talk, and she told me how Joe loved me, and how Joe never -complained of anything she didn't say, of me she had no need I -knew what she meant but ever did his duty in his way of life, -with a strong hand, a quiet tongue, and a gentle heart. -"Indeed, it would be hard to say too much for him," said I "and -Biddy, we must often speak of these things, for of course I shall -be often down here now. I am not going to leave poor Joe alone." -Biddy said never a single word. -"Biddy, don't you hear me?" -"Yes, Mr. Pip." -"Not to mention your calling me Mr. Pip which appears to me to be -in bad taste, Biddy what do you mean?" -"What do I mean?" asked Biddy, timidly. -"Biddy," said I, in a virtuously selfasserting manner, "I must -request to know what you mean by this?" -"By this?" said Biddy. -"Now, don't echo," I retorted. "You used not to echo, Biddy." -"Used not" said Biddy. "O Mr. Pip Used" -Well I rather thought I would give up that point too. After -another silent turn in the garden, I fell back on the main -position. -"Biddy," said I, "I made a remark respecting my coming down here -often, to see Joe, which you received with a marked silence. Have -the goodness, Biddy, to tell me why." -"Are you quite sure, then, that you WILL come to see him often?" -asked Biddy, stopping in the narrow garden walk, and looking at me -under the stars with a clear and honest eye. -"Oh dear me" said I, as if I found myself compelled to give up -Biddy in despair. "This really is a very bad side of human -nature Don't say any more, if you please, Biddy. This shocks me -very much." -For which cogent reason I kept Biddy at a distance during supper, -and, when I went up to my own old little room, took as stately a -leave of her as I could, in my murmuring soul, deem reconcilable -with the churchyard and the event of the day. As often as I was -restless in the night, and that was every quarter of an hour, I -reflected what an unkindness, what an injury, what an injustice, -Biddy had done me. -Early in the morning, I was to go. Early in the morning, I was out, -and looking in, unseen, at one of the wooden windows of the forge. -There I stood, for minutes, looking at Joe, already at work with a -glow of health and strength upon his face that made it show as if -the bright sun of the life in store for him were shining on it. -"Goodbye, dear Joe No, don't wipe it off for God's sake, give -me your blackened hand I shall be down soon, and often." -"Never too soon, sir," said Joe, "and never too often, Pip" -Biddy was waiting for me at the kitchen door, with a mug of new -milk and a crust of bread. "Biddy," said I, when I gave her my hand -at parting, "I am not angry, but I am hurt." -"No, don't be hurt," she pleaded quite pathetically "let only me -be hurt, if I have been ungenerous." -Once more, the mists were rising as I walked away. If they -disclosed to me, as I suspect they did, that I should not come -back, and that Biddy was quite right, all I can say is they were -quite right too. -Chapter -Herbert and I went on from bad to worse, in the way of increasing -our debts, looking into our affairs, leaving Margins, and the like -exemplary transactions and Time went on, whether or no, as he has -a way of doing and I came of age in fulfilment of Herbert's -prediction, that I should do so before I knew where I was. -Herbert himself had come of age, eight months before me. As he had -nothing else than his majority to come into, the event did not make -a profound sensation in Barnard's Inn. But we had looked forward to -my oneandtwentieth birthday, with a crowd of speculations and -anticipations, for we had both considered that my guardian could -hardly help saying something definite on that occasion. -I had taken care to have it well understood in Little Britain, when -my birthday was. On the day before it, I received an official note -from Wemmick, informing me that Mr. Jaggers would be glad if I would -call upon him at five in the afternoon of the auspicious day. This -convinced us that something great was to happen, and threw me into -an unusual flutter when I repaired to my guardian's office, a model -of punctuality. -In the outer office Wemmick offered me his congratulations, and -incidentally rubbed the side of his nose with a folded piece of -tissuepaper that I liked the look of. But he said nothing -respecting it, and motioned me with a nod into my guardian's room. -It was November, and my guardian was standing before his fire -leaning his back against the chimneypiece, with his hands under -his coattails. -"Well, Pip," said he, "I must call you Mr. Pip today. -Congratulations, Mr. Pip." -We shook hands he was always a remarkably short shaker and I -thanked him. -"Take a chair, Mr. Pip," said my guardian. -As I sat down, and he preserved his attitude and bent his brows at -his boots, I felt at a disadvantage, which reminded me of that old -time when I had been put upon a tombstone. The two ghastly casts on -the shelf were not far from him, and their expression was as if -they were making a stupid apoplectic attempt to attend to the -conversation. -"Now my young friend," my guardian began, as if I were a witness in -the box, "I am going to have a word or two with you." -"If you please, sir." -"What do you suppose," said Mr. Jaggers, bending forward to look at -the ground, and then throwing his head back to look at the ceiling, -"what do you suppose you are living at the rate of?" -"At the rate of, sir?" -"At," repeated Mr. Jaggers, still looking at the ceiling, "the -rate of?" And then looked all round the room, and paused with his -pockethandkerchief in his hand, half way to his nose. -I had looked into my affairs so often, that I had thoroughly -destroyed any slight notion I might ever have had of their -bearings. Reluctantly, I confessed myself quite unable to answer -the question. This reply seemed agreeable to Mr. Jaggers, who said, -"I thought so" and blew his nose with an air of satisfaction. -"Now, I have asked you a question, my friend," said Mr. Jaggers. -"Have you anything to ask me?" -"Of course it would be a great relief to me to ask you several -questions, sir but I remember your prohibition." -"Ask one," said Mr. Jaggers. -"Is my benefactor to be made known to me today?" -"No. Ask another." -"Is that confidence to be imparted to me soon?" -"Waive that, a moment," said Mr. Jaggers, "and ask another." -I looked about me, but there appeared to be now no possible escape -from the inquiry, "Have I anything to receive, sir?" On that, -Mr. Jaggers said, triumphantly, "I thought we should come to it" -and called to Wemmick to give him that piece of paper. Wemmick -appeared, handed it in, and disappeared. -"Now, Mr. Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, "attend, if you please. You have -been drawing pretty freely here your name occurs pretty often in -Wemmick's cashbook but you are in debt, of course?" -"I am afraid I must say yes, sir." -"You know you must say yes don't you?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Yes, sir." -"I don't ask you what you owe, because you don't know and if you -did know, you wouldn't tell me you would say less. Yes, yes, my -friend," cried Mr. Jaggers, waving his forefinger to stop me, as I -made a show of protesting "it's likely enough that you think you -wouldn't, but you would. You'll excuse me, but I know better than -you. Now, take this piece of paper in your hand. You have got it? -Very good. Now, unfold it and tell me what it is." -"This is a banknote," said I, "for five hundred pounds." -"That is a banknote," repeated Mr. Jaggers, "for five hundred -pounds. And a very handsome sum of money too, I think. You consider -it so?" -"How could I do otherwise" -"Ah But answer the question," said Mr. Jaggers. -"Undoubtedly." -"You consider it, undoubtedly, a handsome sum of money. Now, that -handsome sum of money, Pip, is your own. It is a present to you on -this day, in earnest of your expectations. And at the rate of that -handsome sum of money per annum, and at no higher rate, you are to -live until the donor of the whole appears. That is to say, you will -now take your money affairs entirely into your own hands, and you -will draw from Wemmick one hundred and twentyfive pounds per -quarter, until you are in communication with the fountainhead, and -no longer with the mere agent. As I have told you before, I am the -mere agent. I execute my instructions, and I am paid for doing so. -I think them injudicious, but I am not paid for giving any opinion -on their merits." -I was beginning to express my gratitude to my benefactor for the -great liberality with which I was treated, when Mr. Jaggers stopped -me. "I am not paid, Pip," said he, coolly, "to carry your words to -any one" and then gathered up his coattails, as he had gathered -up the subject, and stood frowning at his boots as if he suspected -them of designs against him. -After a pause, I hinted -"There was a question just now, Mr. Jaggers, which you desired me to -waive for a moment. I hope I am doing nothing wrong in asking it -again?" -"What is it?" said he. -I might have known that he would never help me out but it took me -aback to have to shape the question afresh, as if it were quite -new. "Is it likely," I said, after hesitating, "that my patron, the -fountainhead you have spoken of, Mr. Jaggers, will soon" there I -delicately stopped. -"Will soon what?" asked Mr. Jaggers. "That's no question as it -stands, you know." -"Will soon come to London," said I, after casting about for a -precise form of words, "or summon me anywhere else?" -"Now here," replied Mr. Jaggers, fixing me for the first time with -his dark deepset eyes, "we must revert to the evening when we -first encountered one another in your village. What did I tell you -then, Pip?" -"You told me, Mr. Jaggers, that it might be years hence when that -person appeared." -"Just so," said Mr. Jaggers "that's my answer." -As we looked full at one another, I felt my breath come quicker in -my strong desire to get something out of him. And as I felt that it -came quicker, and as I felt that he saw that it came quicker, I -felt that I had less chance than ever of getting anything out of -him. -"Do you suppose it will still be years hence, Mr. Jaggers?" -Mr. Jaggers shook his head not in negativing the question, but in -altogether negativing the notion that he could anyhow be got to -answer it and the two horrible casts of the twitched faces -looked, when my eyes strayed up to them, as if they had come to a -crisis in their suspended attention, and were going to sneeze. -"Come" said Mr. Jaggers, warming the backs of his legs with the -backs of his warmed hands, "I'll be plain with you, my friend Pip. -That's a question I must not be asked. You'll understand that, -better, when I tell you it's a question that might compromise me. -Come I'll go a little further with you I'll say something more." -He bent down so low to frown at his boots, that he was able to rub -the calves of his legs in the pause he made. -"When that person discloses," said Mr. Jaggers, straightening -himself, "you and that person will settle your own affairs. When -that person discloses, my part in this business will cease and -determine. When that person discloses, it will not be necessary for -me to know anything about it. And that's all I have got to say." -We looked at one another until I withdrew my eyes, and looked -thoughtfully at the floor. From this last speech I derived the -notion that Miss Havisham, for some reason or no reason, had not -taken him into her confidence as to her designing me for Estella -that he resented this, and felt a jealousy about it or that he -really did object to that scheme, and would have nothing to do with -it. When I raised my eyes again, I found that he had been shrewdly -looking at me all the time, and was doing so still. -"If that is all you have to say, sir," I remarked, "there can be -nothing left for me to say." -He nodded assent, and pulled out his thiefdreaded watch, and asked -me where I was going to dine? I replied at my own chambers, with -Herbert. As a necessary sequence, I asked him if he would favour us -with his company, and he promptly accepted the invitation. But he -insisted on walking home with me, in order that I might make no -extra preparation for him, and first he had a letter or two to -write, and of course had his hands to wash. So, I said I would go -into the outer office and talk to Wemmick. -The fact was, that when the five hundred pounds had come into my -pocket, a thought had come into my head which had been often there -before and it appeared to me that Wemmick was a good person to -advise with, concerning such thought. -He had already locked up his safe, and made preparations for going -home. He had left his desk, brought out his two greasy office -candlesticks and stood them in line with the snuffers on a slab -near the door, ready to be extinguished he had raked his fire low, -put his hat and greatcoat ready, and was beating himself all over -the chest with his safekey, as an athletic exercise after -business. -"Mr. Wemmick," said I, "I want to ask your opinion. I am very -desirous to serve a friend." -Wemmick tightened his postoffice and shook his head, as if his -opinion were dead against any fatal weakness of that sort. -"This friend," I pursued, "is trying to get on in commercial life, -but has no money, and finds it difficult and disheartening to make -a beginning. Now, I want somehow to help him to a beginning." -"With money down?" said Wemmick, in a tone drier than any sawdust. -"With some money down," I replied, for an uneasy remembrance shot -across me of that symmetrical bundle of papers at home "with some -money down, and perhaps some anticipation of my expectations." -"Mr. Pip," said Wemmick, "I should like just to run over with you on -my fingers, if you please, the names of the various bridges up as -high as Chelsea Reach. Let's see there's London, one Southwark, -two Blackfriars, three Waterloo, four Westminster, five -Vauxhall, six." He had checked off each bridge in its turn, with -the handle of his safekey on the palm of his hand. "There's as -many as six, you see, to choose from." -"I don't understand you," said I. -"Choose your bridge, Mr. Pip," returned Wemmick, "and take a walk -upon your bridge, and pitch your money into the Thames over the -centre arch of your bridge, and you know the end of it. Serve a -friend with it, and you may know the end of it too but it's a -less pleasant and profitable end." -I could have posted a newspaper in his mouth, he made it so wide -after saying this. -"This is very discouraging," said I. -"Meant to be so," said Wemmick. -"Then is it your opinion," I inquired, with some little -indignation, "that a man should never" -" Invest portable property in a friend?" said Wemmick. "Certainly -he should not. Unless he wants to get rid of the friend and then -it becomes a question how much portable property it may be worth to -get rid of him." -"And that," said I, "is your deliberate opinion, Mr. Wemmick?" -"That," he returned, "is my deliberate opinion in this office." -"Ah" said I, pressing him, for I thought I saw him near a loophole -here "but would that be your opinion at Walworth?" -"Mr. Pip," he replied, with gravity, "Walworth is one place, and -this office is another. Much as the Aged is one person, and Mr. -Jaggers is another. They must not be confounded together. My -Walworth sentiments must be taken at Walworth none but my official -sentiments can be taken in this office." -"Very well," said I, much relieved, "then I shall look you up at -Walworth, you may depend upon it." -"Mr. Pip," he returned, "you will be welcome there, in a private and -personal capacity." -We had held this conversation in a low voice, well knowing my -guardian's ears to be the sharpest of the sharp. As he now appeared -in his doorway, towelling his hands, Wemmick got on his greatcoat -and stood by to snuff out the candles. We all three went into the -street together, and from the doorstep Wemmick turned his way, and -Mr. Jaggers and I turned ours. -I could not help wishing more than once that evening, that Mr. -Jaggers had had an Aged in Gerrardstreet, or a Stinger, or a -Something, or a Somebody, to unbend his brows a little. It was an -uncomfortable consideration on a twentyfirst birthday, that coming -of age at all seemed hardly worth while in such a guarded and -suspicious world as he made of it. He was a thousand times better -informed and cleverer than Wemmick, and yet I would a thousand -times rather have had Wemmick to dinner. And Mr. Jaggers made not me -alone intensely melancholy, because, after he was gone, Herbert -said of himself, with his eyes fixed on the fire, that he thought -he must have committed a felony and forgotten the details of it, he -felt so dejected and guilty. -Chapter -Deeming Sunday the best day for taking Mr. Wemmick's Walworth -sentiments, I devoted the next ensuing Sunday afternoon to a -pilgrimage to the Castle. On arriving before the battlements, I -found the Union Jack flying and the drawbridge up but undeterred -by this show of defiance and resistance, I rang at the gate, and -was admitted in a most pacific manner by the Aged. -"My son, sir," said the old man, after securing the drawbridge, -"rather had it in his mind that you might happen to drop in, and he -left word that he would soon be home from his afternoon's walk. He -is very regular in his walks, is my son. Very regular in -everything, is my son." -I nodded at the old gentleman as Wemmick himself might have nodded, -and we went in and sat down by the fireside. -"You made acquaintance with my son, sir," said the old man, in his -chirping way, while he warmed his hands at the blaze, "at his -office, I expect?" I nodded. "Hah I have heerd that my son is a -wonderful hand at his business, sir?" I nodded hard. "Yes so they -tell me. His business is the Law?" I nodded harder. "Which makes it -more surprising in my son," said the old man, "for he was not -brought up to the Law, but to the WineCoopering." -Curious to know how the old gentleman stood informed concerning the -reputation of Mr. Jaggers, I roared that name at him. He threw me -into the greatest confusion by laughing heartily and replying in a -very sprightly manner, "No, to be sure you're right." And to this -hour I have not the faintest notion what he meant, or what joke he -thought I had made. -As I could not sit there nodding at him perpetually, without making -some other attempt to interest him, I shouted at inquiry whether -his own calling in life had been "the WineCoopering." By dint of -straining that term out of myself several times and tapping the old -gentleman on the chest to associate it with him, I at last -succeeded in making my meaning understood. -"No," said the old gentleman "the warehousing, the warehousing. -First, over yonder" he appeared to mean up the chimney, but I -believe he intended to refer me to Liverpool "and then in the City -of London here. However, having an infirmity for I am hard of -hearing, sir" -I expressed in pantomime the greatest astonishment. -" Yes, hard of hearing having that infirmity coming upon me, my -son he went into the Law, and he took charge of me, and he by -little and little made out this elegant and beautiful property. But -returning to what you said, you know," pursued the old man, again -laughing heartily, "what I say is, No to be sure you're right." -I was modestly wondering whether my utmost ingenuity would have -enabled me to say anything that would have amused him half as much -as this imaginary pleasantry, when I was startled by a sudden click -in the wall on one side of the chimney, and the ghostly tumbling -open of a little wooden flap with "JOHN" upon it. The old man, -following my eyes, cried with great triumph, "My son's come home" -and we both went out to the drawbridge. -It was worth any money to see Wemmick waving a salute to me from -the other side of the moat, when we might have shaken hands across -it with the greatest ease. The Aged was so delighted to work the -drawbridge, that I made no offer to assist him, but stood quiet -until Wemmick had come across, and had presented me to Miss -Skiffins a lady by whom he was accompanied. -Miss Skiffins was of a wooden appearance, and was, like her escort, -in the postoffice branch of the service. She might have been some -two or three years younger than Wemmick, and I judged her to stand -possessed of portable property. The cut of her dress from the waist -upward, both before and behind, made her figure very like a boy's -kite and I might have pronounced her gown a little too decidedly -orange, and her gloves a little too intensely green. But she seemed -to be a good sort of fellow, and showed a high regard for the Aged. -I was not long in discovering that she was a frequent visitor at -the Castle for, on our going in, and my complimenting Wemmick on -his ingenious contrivance for announcing himself to the Aged, he -begged me to give my attention for a moment to the other side of -the chimney, and disappeared. Presently another click came, and -another little door tumbled open with "Miss Skiffins" on it then -Miss Skiffins shut up and John tumbled open then Miss Skiffins and -John both tumbled open together, and finally shut up together. On -Wemmick's return from working these mechanical appliances, I -expressed the great admiration with which I regarded them, and he -said, "Well, you know, they're both pleasant and useful to the -Aged. And by George, sir, it's a thing worth mentioning, that of -all the people who come to this gate, the secret of those pulls is -only known to the Aged, Miss Skiffins, and me" -"And Mr. Wemmick made them," added Miss Skiffins, "with his own -hands out of his own head." -While Miss Skiffins was taking off her bonnet she retained her -green gloves during the evening as an outward and visible sign that -there was company, Wemmick invited me to take a walk with him -round the property, and see how the island looked in wintertime. -Thinking that he did this to give me an opportunity of taking his -Walworth sentiments, I seized the opportunity as soon as we were -out of the Castle. -Having thought of the matter with care, I approached my subject as -if I had never hinted at it before. I informed Wemmick that I was -anxious in behalf of Herbert Pocket, and I told him how we had -first met, and how we had fought. I glanced at Herbert's home, and -at his character, and at his having no means but such as he was -dependent on his father for those, uncertain and unpunctual. -I alluded to the advantages I had derived in my first rawness and -ignorance from his society, and I confessed that I feared I had but -ill repaid them, and that he might have done better without me and -my expectations. Keeping Miss Havisham in the background at a great -distance, I still hinted at the possibility of my having competed -with him in his prospects, and at the certainty of his possessing a -generous soul, and being far above any mean distrusts, -retaliations, or designs. For all these reasons I told Wemmick, -and because he was my young companion and friend, and I had a great -affection for him, I wished my own good fortune to reflect some -rays upon him, and therefore I sought advice from Wemmick's -experience and knowledge of men and affairs, how I could best try -with my resources to help Herbert to some present income say of a -hundred a year, to keep him in good hope and heart and gradually -to buy him on to some small partnership. I begged Wemmick, in -conclusion, to understand that my help must always be rendered -without Herbert's knowledge or suspicion, and that there was no one -else in the world with whom I could advise. I wound up by laying my -hand upon his shoulder, and saying, "I can't help confiding in you, -though I know it must be troublesome to you but that is your -fault, in having ever brought me here." -Wemmick was silent for a little while, and then said with a kind of -start, "Well you know, Mr. Pip, I must tell you one thing. This is -devilish good of you." -"Say you'll help me to be good then," said I. -"Ecod," replied Wemmick, shaking his head, "that's not my trade." -"Nor is this your tradingplace," said I. -"You are right," he returned. "You hit the nail on the head. Mr. -Pip, I'll put on my consideringcap, and I think all you want to -do, may be done by degrees. Skiffins that's her brother is an -accountant and agent. I'll look him up and go to work for you." -"I thank you ten thousand times." -"On the contrary," said he, "I thank you, for though we are -strictly in our private and personal capacity, still it may be -mentioned that there are Newgate cobwebs about, and it brushes them -away." -After a little further conversation to the same effect, we returned -into the Castle where we found Miss Skiffins preparing tea. The -responsible duty of making the toast was delegated to the Aged, and -that excellent old gentleman was so intent upon it that he seemed -to me in some danger of melting his eyes. It was no nominal meal -that we were going to make, but a vigorous reality. The Aged -prepared such a haystack of buttered toast, that I could scarcely -see him over it as it simmered on an iron stand hooked on to the -topbar while Miss Skiffins brewed such a jorum of tea, that the -pig in the back premises became strongly excited, and repeatedly -expressed his desire to participate in the entertainment. -The flag had been struck, and the gun had been fired, at the right -moment of time, and I felt as snugly cut off from the rest of -Walworth as if the moat were thirty feet wide by as many deep. -Nothing disturbed the tranquillity of the Castle, but the -occasional tumbling open of John and Miss Skiffins which little -doors were a prey to some spasmodic infirmity that made me -sympathetically uncomfortable until I got used to it. I inferred -from the methodical nature of Miss Skiffins's arrangements that she -made tea there every Sunday night and I rather suspected that a -classic brooch she wore, representing the profile of an undesirable -female with a very straight nose and a very new moon, was a piece -of portable property that had been given her by Wemmick. -We ate the whole of the toast, and drank tea in proportion, and it -was delightful to see how warm and greasy we all got after it. The -Aged especially, might have passed for some clean old chief of a -savage tribe, just oiled. After a short pause for repose, Miss -Skiffins in the absence of the little servant who, it seemed, -retired to the bosom of her family on Sunday afternoons washed up -the teathings, in a trifling ladylike amateur manner that -compromised none of us. Then, she put on her gloves again, and we -drew round the fire, and Wemmick said, "Now Aged Parent, tip us the -paper." -Wemmick explained to me while the Aged got his spectacles out, that -this was according to custom, and that it gave the old gentleman -infinite satisfaction to read the news aloud. "I won't offer an -apology," said Wemmick, "for he isn't capable of many pleasures -are you, Aged P.?" -"All right, John, all right," returned the old man, seeing himself -spoken to. -"Only tip him a nod every now and then when he looks off his -paper," said Wemmick, "and he'll be as happy as a king. We are all -attention, Aged One." -"All right, John, all right" returned the cheerful old man so -busy and so pleased, that it really was quite charming. -The Aged's reading reminded me of the classes at Mr. Wopsle's -greataunt's, with the pleasanter peculiarity that it seemed to -come through a keyhole. As he wanted the candles close to him, and -as he was always on the verge of putting either his head or the -newspaper into them, he required as much watching as a powdermill. -But Wemmick was equally untiring and gentle in his vigilance, and -the Aged read on, quite unconscious of his many rescues. Whenever -he looked at us, we all expressed the greatest interest and -amazement, and nodded until he resumed again. -As Wemmick and Miss Skiffins sat side by side, and as I sat in a -shadowy corner, I observed a slow and gradual elongation of Mr. -Wemmick's mouth, powerfully suggestive of his slowly and gradually -stealing his arm round Miss Skiffins's waist. In course of time I -saw his hand appear on the other side of Miss Skiffins but at that -moment Miss Skiffins neatly stopped him with the green glove, -unwound his arm again as if it were an article of dress, and with -the greatest deliberation laid it on the table before her. Miss -Skiffins's composure while she did this was one of the most -remarkable sights I have ever seen, and if I could have thought the -act consistent with abstraction of mind, I should have deemed that -Miss Skiffins performed it mechanically. -Byandby, I noticed Wemmick's arm beginning to disappear again, -and gradually fading out of view. Shortly afterwards, his mouth -began to widen again. After an interval of suspense on my part that -was quite enthralling and almost painful, I saw his hand appear on -the other side of Miss Skiffins. Instantly, Miss Skiffins stopped -it with the neatness of a placid boxer, took off that girdle or -cestus as before, and laid it on the table. Taking the table to -represent the path of virtue, I am justified in stating that during -the whole time of the Aged's reading, Wemmick's arm was straying -from the path of virtue and being recalled to it by Miss Skiffins. -At last, the Aged read himself into a light slumber. This was the -time for Wemmick to produce a little kettle, a tray of glasses, and -a black bottle with a porcelaintopped cork, representing some -clerical dignitary of a rubicund and social aspect. With the aid of -these appliances we all had something warm to drink including the -Aged, who was soon awake again. Miss Skiffins mixed, and I observed -that she and Wemmick drank out of one glass. Of course I knew -better than to offer to see Miss Skiffins home, and under the -circumstances I thought I had best go first which I did, taking a -cordial leave of the Aged, and having passed a pleasant evening. -Before a week was out, I received a note from Wemmick, dated -Walworth, stating that he hoped he had made some advance in that -matter appertaining to our private and personal capacities, and -that he would be glad if I could come and see him again upon it. -So, I went out to Walworth again, and yet again, and yet again, and -I saw him by appointment in the City several times, but never held -any communication with him on the subject in or near Little -Britain. The upshot was, that we found a worthy young merchant or -shippingbroker, not long established in business, who wanted -intelligent help, and who wanted capital, and who in due course of -time and receipt would want a partner. Between him and me, secret -articles were signed of which Herbert was the subject, and I paid -him half of my five hundred pounds down, and engaged for sundry -other payments some, to fall due at certain dates out of my -income some, contingent on my coming into my property. Miss -Skiffins's brother conducted the negotiation. Wemmick pervaded it -throughout, but never appeared in it. -The whole business was so cleverly managed, that Herbert had not -the least suspicion of my hand being in it. I never shall forget -the radiant face with which he came home one afternoon, and told -me, as a mighty piece of news, of his having fallen in with one -Clarriker the young merchant's name, and of Clarriker's having -shown an extraordinary inclination towards him, and of his belief -that the opening had come at last. Day by day as his hopes grew -stronger and his face brighter, he must have thought me a more and -more affectionate friend, for I had the greatest difficulty in -restraining my tears of triumph when I saw him so happy. At length, -the thing being done, and he having that day entered Clarriker's -House, and he having talked to me for a whole evening in a flush of -pleasure and success, I did really cry in good earnest when I went -to bed, to think that my expectations had done some good to -somebody. -A great event in my life, the turning point of my life, now opens -on my view. But, before I proceed to narrate it, and before I pass -on to all the changes it involved, I must give one chapter to -Estella. It is not much to give to the theme that so long filled -my heart. -Chapter -If that staid old house near the Green at Richmond should ever come -to be haunted when I am dead, it will be haunted, surely, by my -ghost. O the many, many nights and days through which the unquiet -spirit within me haunted that house when Estella lived there Let -my body be where it would, my spirit was always wandering, -wandering, wandering, about that house. -The lady with whom Estella was placed, Mrs. Brandley by name, was a -widow, with one daughter several years older than Estella. The -mother looked young, and the daughter looked old the mother's -complexion was pink, and the daughter's was yellow the mother set -up for frivolity, and the daughter for theology. They were in what -is called a good position, and visited, and were visited by, -numbers of people. Little, if any, community of feeling subsisted -between them and Estella, but the understanding was established -that they were necessary to her, and that she was necessary to -them. Mrs. Brandley had been a friend of Miss Havisham's before the -time of her seclusion. -In Mrs. Brandley's house and out of Mrs. Brandley's house, I suffered -every kind and degree of torture that Estella could cause me. The -nature of my relations with her, which placed me on terms of -familiarity without placing me on terms of favour, conduced to my -distraction. She made use of me to tease other admirers, and she -turned the very familiarity between herself and me, to the account -of putting a constant slight on my devotion to her. If I had been -her secretary, steward, halfbrother, poor relation if I had been -a younger brother of her appointed husband I could not have -seemed to myself, further from my hopes when I was nearest to her. -The privilege of calling her by her name and hearing her call me by -mine, became under the circumstances an aggravation of my trials -and while I think it likely that it almost maddened her other -lovers, I know too certainly that it almost maddened me. -She had admirers without end. No doubt my jealousy made an admirer -of every one who went near her but there were more than enough of -them without that. -I saw her often at Richmond, I heard of her often in town, and I -used often to take her and the Brandleys on the water there were -picnics, fete days, plays, operas, concerts, parties, all sorts of -pleasures, through which I pursued her and they were all miseries -to me. I never had one hour's happiness in her society, and yet my -mind all round the fourandtwenty hours was harping on the -happiness of having her with me unto death. -Throughout this part of our intercourse and it lasted, as will -presently be seen, for what I then thought a long time she -habitually reverted to that tone which expressed that our -association was forced upon us. There were other times when she -would come to a sudden check in this tone and in all her many -tones, and would seem to pity me. -"Pip, Pip," she said one evening, coming to such a check, when we -sat apart at a darkening window of the house in Richmond "will you -never take warning?" -"Of what?" -"Of me." -"Warning not to be attracted by you, do you mean, Estella?" -"Do I mean If you don't know what I mean, you are blind." -I should have replied that Love was commonly reputed blind, but for -the reason that I always was restrained and this was not the -least of my miseries by a feeling that it was ungenerous to press -myself upon her, when she knew that she could not choose but obey -Miss Havisham. My dread always was, that this knowledge on her part -laid me under a heavy disadvantage with her pride, and made me the -subject of a rebellious struggle in her bosom. -"At any rate," said I, "I have no warning given me just now, for -you wrote to me to come to you, this time." -"That's true," said Estella, with a cold careless smile that always -chilled me. -After looking at the twilight without, for a little while, she went -on to say -"The time has come round when Miss Havisham wishes to have me for a -day at Satis. You are to take me there, and bring me back, if you -will. She would rather I did not travel alone, and objects to -receiving my maid, for she has a sensitive horror of being talked -of by such people. Can you take me?" -"Can I take you, Estella" -"You can then? The day after tomorrow, if you please. You are to -pay all charges out of my purse, You hear the condition of your -going?" -"And must obey," said I. -This was all the preparation I received for that visit, or for -others like it Miss Havisham never wrote to me, nor had I ever so -much as seen her handwriting. We went down on the next day but one, -and we found her in the room where I had first beheld her, and it -is needless to add that there was no change in Satis House. -She was even more dreadfully fond of Estella than she had been when -I last saw them together I repeat the word advisedly, for there -was something positively dreadful in the energy of her looks and -embraces. She hung upon Estella's beauty, hung upon her words, hung -upon her gestures, and sat mumbling her own trembling fingers while -she looked at her, as though she were devouring the beautiful -creature she had reared. -From Estella she looked at me, with a searching glance that seemed -to pry into my heart and probe its wounds. "How does she use you, -Pip how does she use you?" she asked me again, with her witchlike -eagerness, even in Estella's hearing. But, when we sat by her -flickering fire at night, she was most weird for then, keeping -Estella's hand drawn through her arm and clutched in her own hand, -she extorted from her, by dint of referring back to what Estella -had told her in her regular letters, the names and conditions of -the men whom she had fascinated and as Miss Havisham dwelt upon -this roll, with the intensity of a mind mortally hurt and diseased, -she sat with her other hand on her crutch stick, and her chin on -that, and her wan bright eyes glaring at me, a very spectre. -I saw in this, wretched though it made me, and bitter the sense of -dependence and even of degradation that it awakened I saw in -this, that Estella was set to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, -and that she was not to be given to me until she had gratified it -for a term. I saw in this, a reason for her being beforehand -assigned to me. Sending her out to attract and torment and do -mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with the malicious assurance that -she was beyond the reach of all admirers, and that all who staked -upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw in this, that I, too, -was tormented by a perversion of ingenuity, even while the prize -was reserved for me. I saw in this, the reason for my being staved -off so long, and the reason for my late guardian's declining to -commit himself to the formal knowledge of such a scheme. In a word, -I saw in this, Miss Havisham as I had her then and there before my -eyes, and always had had her before my eyes and I saw in this, the -distinct shadow of the darkened and unhealthy house in which her -life was hidden from the sun. -The candles that lighted that room of hers were placed in sconces -on the wall. They were high from the ground, and they burnt with -the steady dulness of artificial light in air that is seldom -renewed. As I looked round at them, and at the pale gloom they -made, and at the stopped clock, and at the withered articles of -bridal dress upon the table and the ground, and at her own awful -figure with its ghostly reflection thrown large by the fire upon -the ceiling and the wall, I saw in everything the construction that -my mind had come to, repeated and thrown back to me. My thoughts -passed into the great room across the landing where the table was -spread, and I saw it written, as it were, in the falls of the -cobwebs from the centrepiece, in the crawlings of the spiders on -the cloth, in the tracks of the mice as they betook their little -quickened hearts behind the panels, and in the gropings and -pausings of the beetles on the floor. -It happened on the occasion of this visit that some sharp words -arose between Estella and Miss Havisham. It was the first time I -had ever seen them opposed. -We were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss -Havisham still had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still -clutched Estella's hand in hers, when Estella gradually began to -detach herself. She had shown a proud impatience more than once -before, and had rather endured that fierce affection than accepted -or returned it. -"What" said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, "are you -tired of me?" -"Only a little tired of myself," replied Estella, disengaging her -arm, and moving to the great chimneypiece, where she stood looking -down at the fire. -"Speak the truth, you ingrate" cried Miss Havisham, passionately -striking her stick upon the floor "you are tired of me." -Estella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down -at the fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a -selfpossessed indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was -almost cruel. -"You stock and stone" exclaimed Miss Havisham. "You cold, cold -heart" -"What?" said Estella, preserving her attitude of indifference as -she leaned against the great chimneypiece and only moving her -eyes "do you reproach me for being cold? You?" -"Are you not?" was the fierce retort. -"You should know," said Estella. "I am what you have made me. Take -all the praise, take all the blame take all the success, take all -the failure in short, take me." -"O, look at her, look at her" cried Miss Havisham, bitterly "Look -at her, so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared -Where I took her into this wretched breast when it was first -bleeding from its stabs, and where I have lavished years of -tenderness upon her" -"At least I was no party to the compact," said Estella, "for if I -could walk and speak, when it was made, it was as much as I could -do. But what would you have? You have been very good to me, and I -owe everything to you. What would you have?" -"Love," replied the other. -"You have it." -"I have not," said Miss Havisham. -"Mother by adoption," retorted Estella, never departing from the -easy grace of her attitude, never raising her voice as the other -did, never yielding either to anger or tenderness, "Mother by -adoption, I have said that I owe everything to you. All I possess -is freely yours. All that you have given me, is at your command to -have again. Beyond that, I have nothing. And if you ask me to give -you what you never gave me, my gratitude and duty cannot do -impossibilities." -"Did I never give her love" cried Miss Havisham, turning wildly to -me. "Did I never give her a burning love, inseparable from jealousy -at all times, and from sharp pain, while she speaks thus to me Let -her call me mad, let her call me mad" -"Why should I call you mad," returned Estella, "I, of all people? -Does any one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as -well as I do? Does any one live, who knows what a steady memory you -have, half as well as I do? I who have sat on this same hearth on -the little stool that is even now beside you there, learning your -lessons and looking up into your face, when your face was strange -and frightened me" -"Soon forgotten" moaned Miss Havisham. "Times soon forgotten" -"No, not forgotten," retorted Estella. "Not forgotten, but -treasured up in my memory. When have you found me false to your -teaching? When have you found me unmindful of your lessons? When -have you found me giving admission here," she touched her bosom -with her hand, "to anything that you excluded? Be just to me." -"So proud, so proud" moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her grey -hair with both her hands. -"Who taught me to be proud?" returned Estella. "Who praised me when -I learnt my lesson?" -"So hard, so hard" moaned Miss Havisham, with her former action. -"Who taught me to be hard?" returned Estella. "Who praised me when -I learnt my lesson?" -"But to be proud and hard to me" Miss Havisham quite shrieked, as -she stretched out her arms. "Estella, Estella, Estella, to be proud -and hard to me" -Estella looked at her for a moment with a kind of calm wonder, but -was not otherwise disturbed when the moment was past, she looked -down at the fire again. -"I cannot think," said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence -"why you should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a -separation. I have never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I -have never been unfaithful to you or your schooling. I have never -shown any weakness that I can charge myself with." -"Would it be weakness to return my love?" exclaimed Miss Havisham. -"But yes, yes, she would call it so" -"I begin to think," said Estella, in a musing way, after another -moment of calm wonder, "that I almost understand how this comes -about. If you had brought up your adopted daughter wholly in the -dark confinement of these rooms, and had never let her know that -there was such a thing as the daylight by which she had never once -seen your face if you had done that, and then, for a purpose had -wanted her to understand the daylight and know all about it, you -would have been disappointed and angry?" -Miss Havisham, with her head in her hands, sat making a low -moaning, and swaying herself on her chair, but gave no answer. -"Or," said Estella, " which is a nearer case if you had taught -her, from the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and -might, that there was such a thing as daylight, but that it was -made to be her enemy and destroyer, and she must always turn -against it, for it had blighted you and would else blight her if -you had done this, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to take -naturally to the daylight and she could not do it, you would have -been disappointed and angry?" -Miss Havisham sat listening or it seemed so, for I could not see -her face, but still made no answer. -"So," said Estella, "I must be taken as I have been made. The -success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together -make me." -Miss Havisham had settled down, I hardly knew how, upon the floor, -among the faded bridal relics with which it was strewn. I took -advantage of the moment I had sought one from the first to -leave the room, after beseeching Estella's attention to her, with a -movement of my hand. When I left, Estella was yet standing by the -great chimneypiece, just as she had stood throughout. Miss -Havisham's grey hair was all adrift upon the ground, among the -other bridal wrecks, and was a miserable sight to see. -It was with a depressed heart that I walked in the starlight for an -hour and more, about the courtyard, and about the brewery, and -about the ruined garden. When I at last took courage to return to -the room, I found Estella sitting at Miss Havisham's knee, taking -up some stitches in one of those old articles of dress that were -dropping to pieces, and of which I have often been reminded since -by the faded tatters of old banners that I have seen hanging up in -cathedrals. Afterwards, Estella and I played at cards, as of yore -only we were skilful now, and played French games and so the -evening wore away, and I went to bed. -I lay in that separate building across the courtyard. It was the -first time I had ever lain down to rest in Satis House, and sleep -refused to come near me. A thousand Miss Havishams haunted me. She -was on this side of my pillow, on that, at the head of the bed, at -the foot, behind the halfopened door of the dressingroom, in the -dressingroom, in the room overhead, in the room beneath -everywhere. At last, when the night was slow to creep on towards -two o'clock, I felt that I absolutely could no longer bear the -place as a place to lie down in, and that I must get up. I -therefore got up and put on my clothes, and went out across the -yard into the long stone passage, designing to gain the outer -courtyard and walk there for the relief of my mind. But, I was no -sooner in the passage than I extinguished my candle for, I saw -Miss Havisham going along it in a ghostly manner, making a low cry. -I followed her at a distance, and saw her go up the staircase. She -carried a bare candle in her hand, which she had probably taken -from one of the sconces in her own room, and was a most unearthly -object by its light. Standing at the bottom of the staircase, I -felt the mildewed air of the feastchamber, without seeing her open -the door, and I heard her walking there, and so across into her own -room, and so across again into that, never ceasing the low cry. -After a time, I tried in the dark both to get out, and to go back, -but I could do neither until some streaks of day strayed in and -showed me where to lay my hands. During the whole interval, -whenever I went to the bottom of the staircase, I heard her -footstep, saw her light pass above, and heard her ceaseless low -cry. -Before we left next day, there was no revival of the difference -between her and Estella, nor was it ever revived on any similar -occasion and there were four similar occasions, to the best of my -remembrance. Nor, did Miss Havisham's manner towards Estella in -anywise change, except that I believed it to have something like -fear infused among its former characteristics. -It is impossible to turn this leaf of my life, without putting -Bentley Drummle's name upon it or I would, very gladly. -On a certain occasion when the Finches were assembled in force, and -when good feeling was being promoted in the usual manner by -nobody's agreeing with anybody else, the presiding Finch called the -Grove to order, forasmuch as Mr. Drummle had not yet toasted a lady -which, according to the solemn constitution of the society, it was -the brute's turn to do that day. I thought I saw him leer in an -ugly way at me while the decanters were going round, but as there -was no love lost between us, that might easily be. What was my -indignant surprise when he called upon the company to pledge him to -"Estella" -"Estella who?" said I. -"Never you mind," retorted Drummle. -"Estella of where?" said I. "You are bound to say of where." Which -he was, as a Finch. -"Of Richmond, gentlemen," said Drummle, putting me out of the -question, "and a peerless beauty." -Much he knew about peerless beauties, a mean miserable idiot I -whispered Herbert. -"I know that lady," said Herbert, across the table, when the toast -had been honoured. -"Do you?" said Drummle. -"And so do I," I added, with a scarlet face. -"Do you?" said Drummle. "Oh, Lord" -This was the only retort except glass or crockery that the -heavy creature was capable of making but, I became as highly -incensed by it as if it had been barbed with wit, and I immediately -rose in my place and said that I could not but regard it as being -like the honourable Finch's impudence to come down to that Grove -we always talked about coming down to that Grove, as a neat -Parliamentary turn of expression down to that Grove, proposing a -lady of whom he knew nothing. Mr. Drummle upon this, starting up, -demanded what I meant by that? Whereupon, I made him the extreme -reply that I believed he knew where I was to be found. -Whether it was possible in a Christian country to get on without -blood, after this, was a question on which the Finches were -divided. The debate upon it grew so lively, indeed, that at least -six more honourable members told six more, during the discussion, -that they believed they knew where they were to be found. However, -it was decided at last the Grove being a Court of Honour that if -Mr. Drummle would bring never so slight a certificate from the lady, -importing that he had the honour of her acquaintance, Mr. Pip must -express his regret, as a gentleman and a Finch, for "having been -betrayed into a warmth which." Next day was appointed for the -production lest our honour should take cold from delay, and next -day Drummle appeared with a polite little avowal in Estella's hand, -that she had had the honour of dancing with him several times. This -left me no course but to regret that I had been "betrayed into a -warmth which," and on the whole to repudiate, as untenable, the -idea that I was to be found anywhere. Drummle and I then sat -snorting at one another for an hour, while the Grove engaged in -indiscriminate contradiction, and finally the promotion of good -feeling was declared to have gone ahead at an amazing rate. -I tell this lightly, but it was no light thing to me. For, I cannot -adequately express what pain it gave me to think that Estella -should show any favour to a contemptible, clumsy, sulky booby, so -very far below the average. To the present moment, I believe it to -have been referable to some pure fire of generosity and -disinterestedness in my love for her, that I could not endure the -thought of her stooping to that hound. No doubt I should have been -miserable whomsoever she had favoured but a worthier object would -have caused me a different kind and degree of distress. -It was easy for me to find out, and I did soon find out, that -Drummle had begun to follow her closely, and that she allowed him -to do it. A little while, and he was always in pursuit of her, and -he and I crossed one another every day. He held on, in a dull -persistent way, and Estella held him on now with encouragement, -now with discouragement, now almost flattering him, now openly -despising him, now knowing him very well, now scarcely remembering -who he was. -The Spider, as Mr. Jaggers had called him, was used to lying in -wait, however, and had the patience of his tribe. Added to that, he -had a blockhead confidence in his money and in his family -greatness, which sometimes did him good service almost taking the -place of concentration and determined purpose. So, the Spider, -doggedly watching Estella, outwatched many brighter insects, and -would often uncoil himself and drop at the right nick of time. -At a certain Assembly Ball at Richmond there used to be Assembly -Balls at most places then, where Estella had outshone all other -beauties, this blundering Drummle so hung about her, and with so -much toleration on her part, that I resolved to speak to her -concerning him. I took the next opportunity which was when she was -waiting for Mrs. Brandley to take her home, and was sitting apart -among some flowers, ready to go. I was with her, for I almost -always accompanied them to and from such places. -"Are you tired, Estella?" -"Rather, Pip." -"You should be." -"Say rather, I should not be for I have my letter to Satis House -to write, before I go to sleep." -"Recounting tonight's triumph?" said I. "Surely a very poor one, -Estella." -"What do you mean? I didn't know there had been any." -"Estella," said I, "do look at that fellow in the corner yonder, -who is looking over here at us." -"Why should I look at him?" returned Estella, with her eyes on me -instead. "What is there in that fellow in the corner yonder to -use your words that I need look at?" -"Indeed, that is the very question I want to ask you," said I. "For -he has been hovering about you all night." -"Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures," replied Estella, with a -glance towards him, "hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle -help it?" -"No," I returned "but cannot the Estella help it?" -"Well" said she, laughing, after a moment, "perhaps. Yes. Anything -you like." -"But, Estella, do hear me speak. It makes me wretched that you -should encourage a man so generally despised as Drummle. You know -he is despised." -"Well?" said she. -"You know he is as ungainly within, as without. A deficient, -illtempered, lowering, stupid fellow." -"Well?" said she. -"You know he has nothing to recommend him but money, and a -ridiculous roll of addleheaded predecessors now, don't you?" -"Well?" said she again and each time she said it, she opened her -lovely eyes the wider. -To overcome the difficulty of getting past that monosyllable, I -took it from her, and said, repeating it with emphasis, "Well Then, -that is why it makes me wretched." -Now, if I could have believed that she favoured Drummle with any -idea of making me me wretched, I should have been in better -heart about it but in that habitual way of hers, she put me so -entirely out of the question, that I could believe nothing of the -kind. -"Pip," said Estella, casting her glance over the room, "don't be -foolish about its effect on you. It may have its effect on others, -and may be meant to have. It's not worth discussing." -"Yes it is," said I, "because I cannot bear that people should say, -'she throws away her graces and attractions on a mere boor, the -lowest in the crowd.'" -"I can bear it," said Estella. -"Oh don't be so proud, Estella, and so inflexible." -"Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath" said Estella, -opening her hands. "And in his last breath reproached me for -stooping to a boor" -"There is no doubt you do," said I, something hurriedly, "for I -have seen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as -you never give to me." -"Do you want me then," said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed -and serious, if not angry, look, "to deceive and entrap you?" -"Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?" -"Yes, and many others all of them but you. Here is Mrs. Brandley. -I'll say no more." -And now that I have given the one chapter to the theme that so -filled my heart, and so often made it ache and ache again, I pass -on, unhindered, to the event that had impended over me longer yet -the event that had begun to be prepared for, before I knew that the -world held Estella, and in the days when her baby intelligence was -receiving its first distortions from Miss Havisham's wasting hands. -In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that was to fall on the bed of -state in the flush of conquest was slowly wrought out of the -quarry, the tunnel for the rope to hold it in its place was slowly -carried through the leagues of rock, the slab was slowly raised and -fitted in the roof, the rope was rove to it and slowly taken -through the miles of hollow to the great iron ring. All being made -ready with much labour, and the hour come, the sultan was aroused -in the dead of the night, and the sharpened axe that was to sever -the rope from the great iron ring was put into his hand, and he -struck with it, and the rope parted and rushed away, and the -ceiling fell. So, in my case all the work, near and afar, that -tended to the end, had been accomplished and in an instant the -blow was struck, and the roof of my stronghold dropped upon me. -Chapter -I was threeandtwenty years of age. Not another word had I heard -to enlighten me on the subject of my expectations, and my -twentythird birthday was a week gone. We had left Barnard's Inn -more than a year, and lived in the Temple. Our chambers were in -Gardencourt, down by the river. -Mr. Pocket and I had for some time parted company as to our original -relations, though we continued on the best terms. Notwithstanding my -inability to settle to anything which I hope arose out of the -restless and incomplete tenure on which I held my means I had a -taste for reading, and read regularly so many hours a day. That -matter of Herbert's was still progressing, and everything with me -was as I have brought it down to the close of the last preceding -chapter. -Business had taken Herbert on a journey to Marseilles. I was alone, -and had a dull sense of being alone. Dispirited and anxious, long -hoping that tomorrow or next week would clear my way, and long -disappointed, I sadly missed the cheerful face and ready response -of my friend. -It was wretched weather stormy and wet, stormy and wet and mud, -mud, mud, deep in all the streets. Day after day, a vast heavy veil -had been driving over London from the East, and it drove still, as -if in the East there were an Eternity of cloud and wind. So furious -had been the gusts, that high buildings in town had had the lead -stripped off their roofs and in the country, trees had been torn -up, and sails of windmills carried away and gloomy accounts had -come in from the coast, of shipwreck and death. Violent blasts of -rain had accompanied these rages of wind, and the day just closed -as I sat down to read had been the worst of all. -Alterations have been made in that part of the Temple since that -time, and it has not now so lonely a character as it had then, nor -is it so exposed to the river. We lived at the top of the last -house, and the wind rushing up the river shook the house that -night, like discharges of cannon, or breakings of a sea. When the -rain came with it and dashed against the windows, I thought, -raising my eyes to them as they rocked, that I might have fancied -myself in a stormbeaten lighthouse. Occasionally, the smoke came -rolling down the chimney as though it could not bear to go out into -such a night and when I set the doors open and looked down the -staircase, the staircase lamps were blown out and when I shaded my -face with my hands and looked through the black windows opening -them ever so little, was out of the question in the teeth of such -wind and rain I saw that the lamps in the court were blown out, -and that the lamps on the bridges and the shore were shuddering, -and that the coal fires in barges on the river were being carried -away before the wind like redhot splashes in the rain. -I read with my watch upon the table, purposing to close my book at -eleven o'clock. As I shut it, Saint Paul's, and all the many -churchclocks in the City some leading, some accompanying, some -following struck that hour. The sound was curiously flawed by the -wind and I was listening, and thinking how the wind assailed and -tore it, when I heard a footstep on the stair. -What nervous folly made me start, and awfully connect it with the -footstep of my dead sister, matters not. It was past in a moment, -and I listened again, and heard the footstep stumble in coming on. -Remembering then, that the staircaselights were blown out, I took -up my readinglamp and went out to the stairhead. Whoever was -below had stopped on seeing my lamp, for all was quiet. -"There is some one down there, is there not?" I called out, looking -down. -"Yes," said a voice from the darkness beneath. -"What floor do you want?" -"The top. Mr. Pip." -"That is my name. There is nothing the matter?" -"Nothing the matter," returned the voice. And the man came on. -I stood with my lamp held out over the stairrail, and he came -slowly within its light. It was a shaded lamp, to shine upon a -book, and its circle of light was very contracted so that he was -in it for a mere instant, and then out of it. In the instant, I had -seen a face that was strange to me, looking up with an -incomprehensible air of being touched and pleased by the sight of -me. -Moving the lamp as the man moved, I made out that he was -substantially dressed, but roughly like a voyager by sea. That he -had long irongrey hair. That his age was about sixty. That he was -a muscular man, strong on his legs, and that he was browned and -hardened by exposure to weather. As he ascended the last stair or -two, and the light of my lamp included us both, I saw, with a -stupid kind of amazement, that he was holding out both his hands to -me. -"Pray what is your business?" I asked him. -"My business?" he repeated, pausing. "Ah Yes. I will explain my -business, by your leave." -"Do you wish to come in?" -"Yes," he replied "I wish to come in, Master." -I had asked him the question inhospitably enough, for I resented -the sort of bright and gratified recognition that still shone in -his face. I resented it, because it seemed to imply that he -expected me to respond to it. But, I took him into the room I had -just left, and, having set the lamp on the table, asked him as -civilly as I could, to explain himself. -He looked about him with the strangest air an air of wondering -pleasure, as if he had some part in the things he admired and he -pulled off a rough outer coat, and his hat. Then, I saw that his -head was furrowed and bald, and that the long irongrey hair grew -only on its sides. But, I saw nothing that in the least explained -him. On the contrary, I saw him next moment, once more holding out -both his hands to me. -"What do you mean?" said I, half suspecting him to be mad. -He stopped in his looking at me, and slowly rubbed his right hand -over his head. "It's disapinting to a man," he said, in a coarse -broken voice, "arter having looked for'ard so distant, and come so -fur but you're not to blame for that neither on us is to blame -for that. I'll speak in half a minute. Give me half a minute, -please." -He sat down on a chair that stood before the fire, and covered his -forehead with his large brown veinous hands. I looked at him -attentively then, and recoiled a little from him but I did not -know him. -"There's no one nigh," said he, looking over his shoulder "is -there?" -"Why do you, a stranger coming into my rooms at this time of the -night, ask that question?" said I. -"You're a game one," he returned, shaking his head at me with a -deliberate affection, at once most unintelligible and most -exasperating "I'm glad you've grow'd up, a game one But don't -catch hold of me. You'd be sorry arterwards to have done it." -I relinquished the intention he had detected, for I knew him Even -yet, I could not recall a single feature, but I knew him If the -wind and the rain had driven away the intervening years, had -scattered all the intervening objects, had swept us to the -churchyard where we first stood face to face on such different -levels, I could not have known my convict more distinctly than I -knew him now as he sat in the chair before the fire. No need to -take a file from his pocket and show it to me no need to take the -handkerchief from his neck and twist it round his head no need to -hug himself with both his arms, and take a shivering turn across -the room, looking back at me for recognition. I knew him before he -gave me one of those aids, though, a moment before, I had not been -conscious of remotely suspecting his identity. -He came back to where I stood, and again held out both his hands. -Not knowing what to do for, in my astonishment I had lost my -selfpossession I reluctantly gave him my hands. He grasped them -heartily, raised them to his lips, kissed them, and still held -them. -"You acted noble, my boy," said he. "Noble, Pip And I have never -forgot it" -At a change in his manner as if he were even going to embrace me, I -laid a hand upon his breast and put him away. -"Stay" said I. "Keep off If you are grateful to me for what I did -when I was a little child, I hope you have shown your gratitude by -mending your way of life. If you have come here to thank me, it was -not necessary. Still, however you have found me out, there must be -something good in the feeling that has brought you here, and I will -not repulse you but surely you must understand that I" -My attention was so attracted by the singularity of his fixed look -at me, that the words died away on my tongue. -"You was a saying," he observed, when we had confronted one another -in silence, "that surely I must understand. What, surely must I -understand?" -"That I cannot wish to renew that chance intercourse with you of -long ago, under these different circumstances. I am glad to believe -you have repented and recovered yourself. I am glad to tell you so. -I am glad that, thinking I deserve to be thanked, you have come to -thank me. But our ways are different ways, none the less. You are -wet, and you look weary. Will you drink something before you go?" -He had replaced his neckerchief loosely, and had stood, keenly -observant of me, biting a long end of it. "I think," he answered, -still with the end at his mouth and still observant of me, "that I -will drink I thank you afore I go." -There was a tray ready on a sidetable. I brought it to the table -near the fire, and asked him what he would have? He touched one of -the bottles without looking at it or speaking, and I made him some -hot rumandwater. I tried to keep my hand steady while I did so, -but his look at me as he leaned back in his chair with the long -draggled end of his neckerchief between his teeth evidently -forgotten made my hand very difficult to master. When at last I -put the glass to him, I saw with amazement that his eyes were full -of tears. -Up to this time I had remained standing, not to disguise that I -wished him gone. But I was softened by the softened aspect of the -man, and felt a touch of reproach. "I hope," said I, hurriedly -putting something into a glass for myself, and drawing a chair to -the table, "that you will not think I spoke harshly to you just -now. I had no intention of doing it, and I am sorry for it if I -did. I wish you well, and happy" -As I put my glass to my lips, he glanced with surprise at the end -of his neckerchief, dropping from his mouth when he opened it, and -stretched out his hand. I gave him mine, and then he drank, and -drew his sleeve across his eyes and forehead. -"How are you living?" I asked him. -"I've been a sheepfarmer, stockbreeder, other trades besides, -away in the new world," said he "many a thousand mile of stormy -water off from this." -"I hope you have done well?" -"I've done wonderfully well. There's others went out alonger me as -has done well too, but no man has done nigh as well as me. I'm -famous for it." -"I am glad to hear it." -"I hope to hear you say so, my dear boy." -Without stopping to try to understand those words or the tone in -which they were spoken, I turned off to a point that had just come -into my mind. -"Have you ever seen a messenger you once sent to me," I inquired, -"since he undertook that trust?" -"Never set eyes upon him. I warn't likely to it." -"He came faithfully, and he brought me the two onepound notes. I -was a poor boy then, as you know, and to a poor boy they were a -little fortune. But, like you, I have done well since, and you must -let me pay them back. You can put them to some other poor boy's -use." I took out my purse. -He watched me as I laid my purse upon the table and opened it, and -he watched me as I separated two onepound notes from its contents. -They were clean and new, and I spread them out and handed them over -to him. Still watching me, he laid them one upon the other, folded -them longwise, gave them a twist, set fire to them at the lamp, -and dropped the ashes into the tray. -"May I make so bold," he said then, with a smile that was like a -frown, and with a frown that was like a smile, "as ask you how you -have done well, since you and me was out on them lone shivering -marshes?" -"How?" -"Ah" -He emptied his glass, got up, and stood at the side of the fire, -with his heavy brown hand on the mantelshelf. He put a foot up to -the bars, to dry and warm it, and the wet boot began to steam but, -he neither looked at it, nor at the fire, but steadily looked at -me. It was only now that I began to tremble. -When my lips had parted, and had shaped some words that were -without sound, I forced myself to tell him though I could not do -it distinctly, that I had been chosen to succeed to some property. -"Might a mere warmint ask what property?" said he. -I faltered, "I don't know." -"Might a mere warmint ask whose property?" said he. -I faltered again, "I don't know." -"Could I make a guess, I wonder," said the Convict, "at your income -since you come of age As to the first figure now. Five?" -With my heart beating like a heavy hammer of disordered action, I -rose out of my chair, and stood with my hand upon the back of it, -looking wildly at him. -"Concerning a guardian," he went on. "There ought to have been some -guardian, or suchlike, whiles you was a minor. Some lawyer, maybe. -As to the first letter of that lawyer's name now. Would it be J?" -All the truth of my position came flashing on me and its -disappointments, dangers, disgraces, consequences of all kinds, -rushed in in such a multitude that I was borne down by them and had -to struggle for every breath I drew. -"Put it," he resumed, "as the employer of that lawyer whose name -begun with a J, and might be Jaggers put it as he had come over -sea to Portsmouth, and had landed there, and had wanted to come on -to you. 'However, you have found me out,' you says just now. Well -However, did I find you out? Why, I wrote from Portsmouth to a -person in London, for particulars of your address. That person's -name? Why, Wemmick." -I could not have spoken one word, though it had been to save my -life. I stood, with a hand on the chairback and a hand on my -breast, where I seemed to be suffocating I stood so, looking -wildly at him, until I grasped at the chair, when the room began to -surge and turn. He caught me, drew me to the sofa, put me up -against the cushions, and bent on one knee before me bringing the -face that I now well remembered, and that I shuddered at, very near -to mine. -"Yes, Pip, dear boy, I've made a gentleman on you It's me wot has -done it I swore that time, sure as ever I earned a guinea, that -guinea should go to you. I swore arterwards, sure as ever I -spec'lated and got rich, you should get rich. I lived rough, that -you should live smooth I worked hard, that you should be above -work. What odds, dear boy? Do I tell it, fur you to feel a -obligation? Not a bit. I tell it, fur you to know as that there -hunted dunghill dog wot you kep life in, got his head so high that -he could make a gentleman and, Pip, you're him" -The abhorrence in which I held the man, the dread I had of him, the -repugnance with which I shrank from him, could not have been -exceeded if he had been some terrible beast. -"Look'ee here, Pip. I'm your second father. You're my son more to -me nor any son. I've put away money, only for you to spend. When I -was a hiredout shepherd in a solitary hut, not seeing no faces but -faces of sheep till I half forgot wot men's and women's faces wos -like, I see yourn. I drops my knife many a time in that hut when I -was aeating my dinner or my supper, and I says, 'Here's the boy -again, alooking at me whiles I eats and drinks' I see you there a -many times, as plain as ever I see you on them misty marshes. 'Lord -strike me dead' I says each time and I goes out in the air to -say it under the open heavens 'but wot, if I gets liberty and -money, I'll make that boy a gentleman' And I done it. Why, look at -you, dear boy Look at these here lodgings o'yourn, fit for a lord -A lord? Ah You shall show money with lords for wagers, and beat -'em" -In his heat and triumph, and in his knowledge that I had been -nearly fainting, he did not remark on my reception of all this. It -was the one grain of relief I had. -"Look'ee here" he went on, taking my watch out of my pocket, and -turning towards him a ring on my finger, while I recoiled from his -touch as if he had been a snake, "a gold 'un and a beauty that's a -gentleman's, I hope A diamond all set round with rubies that's a -gentleman's, I hope Look at your linen fine and beautiful Look -at your clothes better ain't to be got And your books too," -turning his eyes round the room, "mounting up, on their shelves, by -hundreds And you read 'em don't you? I see you'd been a reading -of 'em when I come in. Ha, ha, ha You shall read 'em to me, dear -boy And if they're in foreign languages wot I don't understand, I -shall be just as proud as if I did." -Again he took both my hands and put them to his lips, while my -blood ran cold within me. -"Don't you mind talking, Pip," said he, after again drawing his -sleeve over his eyes and forehead, as the click came in his throat -which I well remembered and he was all the more horrible to me -that he was so much in earnest "you can't do better nor keep -quiet, dear boy. You ain't looked slowly forward to this as I have -you wosn't prepared for this, as I wos. But didn't you never think -it might be me?" -"O no, no, no," I returned, "Never, never" -"Well, you see it wos me, and singlehanded. Never a soul in it but -my own self and Mr. Jaggers." -"Was there no one else?" I asked. -"No," said he, with a glance of surprise "who else should there -be? And, dear boy, how good looking you have growed There's bright -eyes somewheres eh? Isn't there bright eyes somewheres, wot you -love the thoughts on?" -O Estella, Estella -"They shall be yourn, dear boy, if money can buy 'em. Not that a -gentleman like you, so well set up as you, can't win 'em off of his -own game but money shall back you Let me finish wot I was a -telling you, dear boy. From that there hut and that there -hiringout, I got money left me by my master which died, and had -been the same as me, and got my liberty and went for myself. In -every single thing I went for, I went for you. 'Lord strike a -blight upon it,' I says, wotever it was I went for, 'if it ain't -for him' It all prospered wonderful. As I giv' you to understand -just now, I'm famous for it. It was the money left me, and the -gains of the first few year wot I sent home to Mr. Jaggers all for -you when he first come arter you, agreeable to my letter." -O, that he had never come That he had left me at the forge far -from contented, yet, by comparison happy -"And then, dear boy, it was a recompense to me, look'ee here, to -know in secret that I was making a gentleman. The blood horses of -them colonists might fling up the dust over me as I was walking -what do I say? I says to myself, 'I'm making a better gentleman nor -ever you'll be' When one of 'em says to another, 'He was a -convict, a few year ago, and is a ignorant common fellow now, for -all he's lucky,' what do I say? I says to myself, 'If I ain't a -gentleman, nor yet ain't got no learning, I'm the owner of such. -All on you owns stock and land which on you owns a broughtup -London gentleman?' This way I kep myself agoing. And this way I -held steady afore my mind that I would for certain come one day and -see my boy, and make myself known to him, on his own ground." -He laid his hand on my shoulder. I shuddered at the thought that -for anything I knew, his hand might be stained with blood. -"It warn't easy, Pip, for me to leave them parts, nor yet it warn't -safe. But I held to it, and the harder it was, the stronger I held, -for I was determined, and my mind firm made up. At last I done it. -Dear boy, I done it" -I tried to collect my thoughts, but I was stunned. Throughout, I -had seemed to myself to attend more to the wind and the rain than -to him even now, I could not separate his voice from those voices, -though those were loud and his was silent. -"Where will you put me?" he asked, presently. "I must be put -somewheres, dear boy." -"To sleep?" said I. -"Yes. And to sleep long and sound," he answered "for I've been -seatossed and seawashed, months and months." -"My friend and companion," said I, rising from the sofa, "is -absent you must have his room." -"He won't come back tomorrow will he?" -"No," said I, answering almost mechanically, in spite of my utmost -efforts "not tomorrow." -"Because, look'ee here, dear boy," he said, dropping his voice, and -laying a long finger on my breast in an impressive manner, "caution -is necessary." -"How do you mean? Caution?" -"By G , it's Death" -"What's death?" -"I was sent for life. It's death to come back. There's been -overmuch coming back of late years, and I should of a certainty be -hanged if took." -Nothing was needed but this the wretched man, after loading -wretched me with his gold and silver chains for years, had risked -his life to come to me, and I held it there in my keeping If I had -loved him instead of abhorring him if I had been attracted to him -by the strongest admiration and affection, instead of shrinking -from him with the strongest repugnance it could have been no -worse. On the contrary, it would have been better, for his -preservation would then have naturally and tenderly addressed my -heart. -My first care was to close the shutters, so that no light might be -seen from without, and then to close and make fast the doors. While -I did so, he stood at the table drinking rum and eating biscuit -and when I saw him thus engaged, I saw my convict on the marshes at -his meal again. It almost seemed to me as if he must stoop down -presently, to file at his leg. -When I had gone into Herbert's room, and had shut off any other -communication between it and the staircase than through the room in -which our conversation had been held, I asked him if he would go to -bed? He said yes, but asked me for some of my "gentleman's linen" -to put on in the morning. I brought it out, and laid it ready for -him, and my blood again ran cold when he again took me by both -hands to give me good night. -I got away from him, without knowing how I did it, and mended the -fire in the room where we had been together, and sat down by it, -afraid to go to bed. For an hour or more, I remained too stunned to -think and it was not until I began to think, that I began fully to -know how wrecked I was, and how the ship in which I had sailed was -gone to pieces. -Miss Havisham's intentions towards me, all a mere dream Estella -not designed for me I only suffered in Satis House as a -convenience, a sting for the greedy relations, a model with a -mechanical heart to practise on when no other practice was at hand -those were the first smarts I had. But, sharpest and deepest pain -of all it was for the convict, guilty of I knew not what crimes, -and liable to be taken out of those rooms where I sat thinking, and -hanged at the Old Bailey door, that I had deserted Joe. -I would not have gone back to Joe now, I would not have gone back -to Biddy now, for any consideration simply, I suppose, because my -sense of my own worthless conduct to them was greater than every -consideration. No wisdom on earth could have given me the comfort -that I should have derived from their simplicity and fidelity but -I could never, never, undo what I had done. -In every rage of wind and rush of rain, I heard pursuers. Twice, I -could have sworn there was a knocking and whispering at the outer -door. With these fears upon me, I began either to imagine or recall -that I had had mysterious warnings of this man's approach. That, -for weeks gone by, I had passed faces in the streets which I had -thought like his. That, these likenesses had grown more numerous, -as he, coming over the sea, had drawn nearer. That, his wicked -spirit had somehow sent these messengers to mine, and that now on -this stormy night he was as good as his word, and with me. -Crowding up with these reflections came the reflection that I had -seen him with my childish eyes to be a desperately violent man -that I had heard that other convict reiterate that he had tried to -murder him that I had seen him down in the ditch tearing and -fighting like a wild beast. Out of such remembrances I brought into -the light of the fire, a halfformed terror that it might not be -safe to be shut up there with him in the dead of the wild solitary -night. This dilated until it filled the room, and impelled me to -take a candle and go in and look at my dreadful burden. -He had rolled a handkerchief round his head, and his face was set -and lowering in his sleep. But he was asleep, and quietly too, -though he had a pistol lying on the pillow. Assured of this, I -softly removed the key to the outside of his door, and turned it on -him before I again sat down by the fire. Gradually I slipped from -the chair and lay on the floor. When I awoke, without having parted -in my sleep with the perception of my wretchedness, the clocks of -the Eastward churches were striking five, the candles were wasted -out, the fire was dead, and the wind and rain intensified the thick -black darkness. -THIS IS THE END OF THE SECOND STAGE OF PIP'S EXPECTATIONS. -Chapter -It was fortunate for me that I had to take precautions to ensure -so far as I could the safety of my dreaded visitor for, this -thought pressing on me when I awoke, held other thoughts in a -confused concourse at a distance. -The impossibility of keeping him concealed in the chambers was -selfevident. It could not be done, and the attempt to do it would -inevitably engender suspicion. True, I had no Avenger in my service -now, but I was looked after by an inflammatory old female, assisted -by an animated ragbag whom she called her niece, and to keep a -room secret from them would be to invite curiosity and -exaggeration. They both had weak eyes, which I had long attributed -to their chronically looking in at keyholes, and they were always -at hand when not wanted indeed that was their only reliable -quality besides larceny. Not to get up a mystery with these people, -I resolved to announce in the morning that my uncle had -unexpectedly come from the country. -This course I decided on while I was yet groping about in the -darkness for the means of getting a light. Not stumbling on the -means after all, I was fain to go out to the adjacent Lodge and get -the watchman there to come with his lantern. Now, in groping my way -down the black staircase I fell over something, and that something -was a man crouching in a corner. -As the man made no answer when I asked him what he did there, but -eluded my touch in silence, I ran to the Lodge and urged the -watchman to come quickly telling him of the incident on the way -back. The wind being as fierce as ever, we did not care to endanger -the light in the lantern by rekindling the extinguished lamps on -the staircase, but we examined the staircase from the bottom to the -top and found no one there. It then occurred to me as possible that -the man might have slipped into my rooms so, lighting my candle at -the watchman's, and leaving him standing at the door, I examined -them carefully, including the room in which my dreaded guest lay -asleep. All was quiet, and assuredly no other man was in those -chambers. -It troubled me that there should have been a lurker on the stairs, -on that night of all nights in the year, and I asked the watchman, -on the chance of eliciting some hopeful explanation as I handed him -a dram at the door, whether he had admitted at his gate any -gentleman who had perceptibly been dining out? Yes, he said at -different times of the night, three. One lived in Fountain Court, -and the other two lived in the Lane, and he had seen them all go -home. Again, the only other man who dwelt in the house of which my -chambers formed a part, had been in the country for some weeks and -he certainly had not returned in the night, because we had seen his -door with his seal on it as we came upstairs. -"The night being so bad, sir," said the watchman, as he gave me -back my glass, "uncommon few have come in at my gate. Besides them -three gentlemen that I have named, I don't call to mind another -since about eleven o'clock, when a stranger asked for you." -"My uncle," I muttered. "Yes." -"You saw him, sir?" -"Yes. Oh yes." -"Likewise the person with him?" -"Person with him" I repeated. -"I judged the person to be with him," returned the watchman. "The -person stopped, when he stopped to make inquiry of me, and the -person took this way when he took this way." -"What sort of person?" -The watchman had not particularly noticed he should say a working -person to the best of his belief, he had a dustcoloured kind of -clothes on, under a dark coat. The watchman made more light of the -matter than I did, and naturally not having my reason for -attaching weight to it. -When I had got rid of him, which I thought it well to do without -prolonging explanations, my mind was much troubled by these two -circumstances taken together. Whereas they were easy of innocent -solution apart as, for instance, some dinerout or dinerathome, -who had not gone near this watchman's gate, might have strayed to -my staircase and dropped asleep there and my nameless visitor -might have brought some one with him to show him the way still, -joined, they had an ugly look to one as prone to distrust and fear -as the changes of a few hours had made me. -I lighted my fire, which burnt with a raw pale flare at that time -of the morning, and fell into a doze before it. I seemed to have -been dozing a whole night when the clocks struck six. As there was -full an hour and a half between me and daylight, I dozed again -now, waking up uneasily, with prolix conversations about nothing, -in my ears now, making thunder of the wind in the chimney at -length, falling off into a profound sleep from which the daylight -woke me with a start. -All this time I had never been able to consider my own situation, -nor could I do so yet. I had not the power to attend to it. I was -greatly dejected and distressed, but in an incoherent wholesale -sort of way. As to forming any plan for the future, I could as soon -have formed an elephant. When I opened the shutters and looked out -at the wet wild morning, all of a leaden hue when I walked from -room to room when I sat down again shivering, before the fire, -waiting for my laundress to appear I thought how miserable I was, -but hardly knew why, or how long I had been so, or on what day of -the week I made the reflection, or even who I was that made it. -At last, the old woman and the niece came in the latter with a -head not easily distinguishable from her dusty broom and -testified surprise at sight of me and the fire. To whom I imparted -how my uncle had come in the night and was then asleep, and how the -breakfast preparations were to be modified accordingly. Then, I -washed and dressed while they knocked the furniture about and made -a dust and so, in a sort of dream or sleepwaking, I found myself -sitting by the fire again, waiting for Him to come to -breakfast. -Byandby, his door opened and he came out. I could not bring -myself to bear the sight of him, and I thought he had a worse look -by daylight. -"I do not even know," said I, speaking low as he took his seat at -the table, "by what name to call you. I have given out that you are -my uncle." -"That's it, dear boy Call me uncle." -"You assumed some name, I suppose, on board ship?" -"Yes, dear boy. I took the name of Provis." -"Do you mean to keep that name?" -"Why, yes, dear boy, it's as good as another unless you'd like -another." -"What is your real name?" I asked him in a whisper. -"Magwitch," he answered, in the same tone "chrisen'd Abel." -"What were you brought up to be?" -"A warmint, dear boy." -He answered quite seriously, and used the word as if it denoted -some profession. -"When you came into the Temple last night" said I, pausing to -wonder whether that could really have been last night, which seemed -so long ago. -"Yes, dear boy?" -"When you came in at the gate and asked the watchman the way here, -had you any one with you?" -"With me? No, dear boy." -"But there was some one there?" -"I didn't take particular notice," he said, dubiously, "not knowing -the ways of the place. But I think there was a person, too, come in -alonger me." -"Are you known in London?" -"I hope not" said he, giving his neck a jerk with his forefinger -that made me turn hot and sick. -"Were you known in London, once?" -"Not over and above, dear boy. I was in the provinces mostly." -"Were you tried in London?" -"Which time?" said he, with a sharp look. -"The last time." -He nodded. "First knowed Mr. Jaggers that way. Jaggers was for me." -It was on my lips to ask him what he was tried for, but he took up -a knife, gave it a flourish, and with the words, "And what I done -is worked out and paid for" fell to at his breakfast. -He ate in a ravenous way that was very disagreeable, and all his -actions were uncouth, noisy, and greedy. Some of his teeth had -failed him since I saw him eat on the marshes, and as he turned his -food in his mouth, and turned his head sideways to bring his -strongest fangs to bear upon it, he looked terribly like a hungry old -dog. If I had begun with any appetite, he would have taken it away, -and I should have sat much as I did repelled from him by an -insurmountable aversion, and gloomily looking at the cloth. -"I'm a heavy grubber, dear boy," he said, as a polite kind of -apology when he made an end of his meal, "but I always was. If it -had been in my constitution to be a lighter grubber, I might ha' -got into lighter trouble. Similarly, I must have my smoke. When I -was first hired out as shepherd t'other side the world, it's my -belief I should ha' turned into a molloncollymad sheep myself, if -I hadn't a had my smoke." -As he said so, he got up from the table, and putting his hand into the -breast of the peacoat he wore, brought out a short black pipe, and -a handful of loose tobacco of the kind that is called Negrohead. -Having filled his pipe, he put the surplus tobacco back again, as -if his pocket were a drawer. Then, he took a live coal from the -fire with the tongs, and lighted his pipe at it, and then turned -round on the hearthrug with his back to the fire, and went through -his favourite action of holding out both his hands for mine. -"And this," said he, dandling my hands up and down in his, as he -puffed at his pipe "and this is the gentleman what I made The -real genuine One It does me good fur to look at you, Pip. All I -stip'late, is, to stand by and look at you, dear boy" -I released my hands as soon as I could, and found that I was -beginning slowly to settle down to the contemplation of my -condition. What I was chained to, and how heavily, became -intelligible to me, as I heard his hoarse voice, and sat looking up -at his furrowed bald head with its iron grey hair at the sides. -"I mustn't see my gentleman a footing it in the mire of the -streets there mustn't be no mud on his boots. My gentleman must -have horses, Pip Horses to ride, and horses to drive, and horses -for his servant to ride and drive as well. Shall colonists have -their horses and blood 'uns, if you please, good Lord and not my -London gentleman? No, no. We'll show 'em another pair of shoes than -that, Pip won't us?" -He took out of his pocket a great thick pocketbook, bursting with -papers, and tossed it on the table. -"There's something worth spending in that there book, dear boy. -It's yourn. All I've got ain't mine it's yourn. Don't you be -afeerd on it. There's more where that come from. I've come to the -old country fur to see my gentleman spend his money like a -gentleman. That'll be my pleasure. My pleasure 'ull be fur to see -him do it. And blast you all" he wound up, looking round the room -and snapping his fingers once with a loud snap, "blast you every -one, from the judge in his wig, to the colonist a stirring up the -dust, I'll show a better gentleman than the whole kit on you put -together" -"Stop" said I, almost in a frenzy of fear and dislike, "I want to -speak to you. I want to know what is to be done. I want to know how -you are to be kept out of danger, how long you are going to stay, -what projects you have." -"Look'ee here, Pip," said he, laying his hand on my arm in a -suddenly altered and subdued manner "first of all, look'ee here. I -forgot myself half a minute ago. What I said was low that's what -it was low. Look'ee here, Pip. Look over it. I ain't agoing to be -low." -"First," I resumed, halfgroaning, "what precautions can be taken -against your being recognized and seized?" -"No, dear boy," he said, in the same tone as before, "that don't go -first. Lowness goes first. I ain't took so many years to make a -gentleman, not without knowing what's due to him. Look'ee here, -Pip. I was low that's what I was low. Look over it, dear boy." -Some sense of the grimlyludicrous moved me to a fretful laugh, as -I replied, "I have looked over it. In Heaven's name, don't harp -upon it" -"Yes, but look'ee here," he persisted. "Dear boy, I ain't come so -fur, not fur to be low. Now, go on, dear boy. You was asaying" -"How are you to be guarded from the danger you have incurred?" -"Well, dear boy, the danger ain't so great. Without I was informed -agen, the danger ain't so much to signify. There's Jaggers, and -there's Wemmick, and there's you. Who else is there to inform?" -"Is there no chance person who might identify you in the street?" -said I. -"Well," he returned, "there ain't many. Nor yet I don't intend to -advertise myself in the newspapers by the name of A. M. come back -from Botany Bay and years have rolled away, and who's to gain by -it? Still, look'ee here, Pip. If the danger had been fifty times as -great, I should ha' come to see you, mind you, just the same." -"And how long do you remain?" -"How long?" said he, taking his black pipe from his mouth, and -dropping his jaw as he stared at me. "I'm not agoing back. I've -come for good." -"Where are you to live?" said I. "What is to be done with you? -Where will you be safe?" -"Dear boy," he returned, "there's disguising wigs can be bought for -money, and there's hair powder, and spectacles, and black clothes -shorts and what not. Others has done it safe afore, and what others -has done afore, others can do agen. As to the where and how of -living, dear boy, give me your own opinions on it." -"You take it smoothly now," said I, "but you were very serious last -night, when you swore it was Death." -"And so I swear it is Death," said he, putting his pipe back in his -mouth, "and Death by the rope, in the open street not fur from -this, and it's serious that you should fully understand it to be -so. What then, when that's once done? Here I am. To go back now, -'ud be as bad as to stand ground worse. Besides, Pip, I'm here, -because I've meant it by you, years and years. As to what I dare, -I'm a old bird now, as has dared all manner of traps since first he -was fledged, and I'm not afeerd to perch upon a scarecrow. If -there's Death hid inside of it, there is, and let him come out, and -I'll face him, and then I'll believe in him and not afore. And now -let me have a look at my gentleman agen." -Once more, he took me by both hands and surveyed me with an air of -admiring proprietorship smoking with great complacency all the -while. -It appeared to me that I could do no better than secure him some -quiet lodging hard by, of which he might take possession when -Herbert returned whom I expected in two or three days. That the -secret must be confided to Herbert as a matter of unavoidable -necessity, even if I could have put the immense relief I should -derive from sharing it with him out of the question, was plain to -me. But it was by no means so plain to Mr. Provis I resolved to -call him by that name, who reserved his consent to Herbert's -participation until he should have seen him and formed a favourable -judgment of his physiognomy. "And even then, dear boy," said he, -pulling a greasy little clasped black Testament out of his pocket, -"we'll have him on his oath." -To state that my terrible patron carried this little black book -about the world solely to swear people on in cases of emergency, -would be to state what I never quite established but this I can -say, that I never knew him put it to any other use. The book itself -had the appearance of having been stolen from some court of -justice, and perhaps his knowledge of its antecedents, combined -with his own experience in that wise, gave him a reliance on its -powers as a sort of legal spell or charm. On this first occasion of -his producing it, I recalled how he had made me swear fidelity in -the churchyard long ago, and how he had described himself last -night as always swearing to his resolutions in his solitude. -As he was at present dressed in a seafaring slop suit, in which he -looked as if he had some parrots and cigars to dispose of, I next -discussed with him what dress he should wear. He cherished an -extraordinary belief in the virtues of "shorts" as a disguise, and -had in his own mind sketched a dress for himself that would have -made him something between a dean and a dentist. It was with -considerable difficulty that I won him over to the assumption of a -dress more like a prosperous farmer's and we arranged that he -should cut his hair close, and wear a little powder. Lastly, as he -had not yet been seen by the laundress or her niece, he was to keep -himself out of their view until his change of dress was made. -It would seem a simple matter to decide on these precautions but -in my dazed, not to say distracted, state, it took so long, that I -did not get out to further them, until two or three in the -afternoon. He was to remain shut up in the chambers while I was -gone, and was on no account to open the door. -There being to my knowledge a respectable lodginghouse in -Essexstreet, the back of which looked into the Temple, and was -almost within hail of my windows, I first of all repaired to that -house, and was so fortunate as to secure the second floor for my -uncle, Mr. Provis. I then went from shop to shop, making such -purchases as were necessary to the change in his appearance. This -business transacted, I turned my face, on my own account, to Little -Britain. Mr. Jaggers was at his desk, but, seeing me enter, got up -immediately and stood before his fire. -"Now, Pip," said he, "be careful." -"I will, sir," I returned. For, coming along I had thought well of -what I was going to say. -"Don't commit yourself," said Mr. Jaggers, "and don't commit any -one. You understand any one. Don't tell me anything I don't want -to know anything I am not curious." -Of course I saw that he knew the man was come. -"I merely want, Mr. Jaggers," said I, "to assure myself that what I -have been told, is true. I have no hope of its being untrue, but at -least I may verify it." -Mr. Jaggers nodded. "But did you say 'told' or 'informed'?" he asked -me, with his head on one side, and not looking at me, but looking -in a listening way at the floor. "Told would seem to imply verbal -communication. You can't have verbal communication with a man in -New South Wales, you know." -"I will say, informed, Mr. Jaggers." -"Good." -"I have been informed by a person named Abel Magwitch, that he is -the benefactor so long unknown to me." -"That is the man," said Mr. Jaggers, " in New South Wales." -"And only he?" said I. -"And only he," said Mr. Jaggers. -"I am not so unreasonable, sir, as to think you at all responsible -for my mistakes and wrong conclusions but I always supposed it was -Miss Havisham." -"As you say, Pip," returned Mr. Jaggers, turning his eyes upon me -coolly, and taking a bite at his forefinger, "I am not at all -responsible for that." -"And yet it looked so like it, sir," I pleaded with a downcast -heart. -"Not a particle of evidence, Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, shaking his -head and gathering up his skirts. "Take nothing on its looks take -everything on evidence. There's no better rule." -"I have no more to say," said I, with a sigh, after standing silent -for a little while. "I have verified my information, and there's an -end." -"And Magwitch in New South Wales having at last disclosed -himself," said Mr. Jaggers, "you will comprehend, Pip, how rigidly -throughout my communication with you, I have always adhered to the -strict line of fact. There has never been the least departure from -the strict line of fact. You are quite aware of that?" -"Quite, sir." -"I communicated to Magwitch in New South Wales when he first -wrote to me from New South Wales the caution that he must not -expect me ever to deviate from the strict line of fact. I also -communicated to him another caution. He appeared to me to have -obscurely hinted in his letter at some distant idea he had of -seeing you in England here. I cautioned him that I must hear no -more of that that he was not at all likely to obtain a pardon -that he was expatriated for the term of his natural life and that -his presenting himself in this country would be an act of felony, -rendering him liable to the extreme penalty of the law. I gave -Magwitch that caution," said Mr. Jaggers, looking hard at me "I -wrote it to New South Wales. He guided himself by it, no doubt." -"No doubt," said I. -"I have been informed by Wemmick," pursued Mr. Jaggers, still -looking hard at me, "that he has received a letter, under date -Portsmouth, from a colonist of the name of Purvis, or" -"Or Provis," I suggested. -"Or Provis thank you, Pip. Perhaps it is Provis? Perhaps you know -it's Provis?" -"Yes," said I. -"You know it's Provis. A letter, under date Portsmouth, from a -colonist of the name of Provis, asking for the particulars of your -address, on behalf of Magwitch. Wemmick sent him the particulars, I -understand, by return of post. Probably it is through Provis that -you have received the explanation of Magwitch in New South -Wales?" -"It came through Provis," I replied. -"Good day, Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, offering his hand "glad to have -seen you. In writing by post to Magwitch in New South Wales or -in communicating with him through Provis, have the goodness to -mention that the particulars and vouchers of our long account shall -be sent to you, together with the balance for there is still a -balance remaining. Good day, Pip" -We shook hands, and he looked hard at me as long as he could see -me. I turned at the door, and he was still looking hard at me, -while the two vile casts on the shelf seemed to be trying to get -their eyelids open, and to force out of their swollen throats, "O, -what a man he is" -Wemmick was out, and though he had been at his desk he could have -done nothing for me. I went straight back to the Temple, where I -found the terrible Provis drinking rumandwater and smoking -negrohead, in safety. -Next day the clothes I had ordered, all came home, and he put them -on. Whatever he put on, became him less it dismally seemed to me -than what he had worn before. To my thinking, there was something -in him that made it hopeless to attempt to disguise him. The more I -dressed him and the better I dressed him, the more he looked like -the slouching fugitive on the marshes. This effect on my anxious -fancy was partly referable, no doubt, to his old face and manner -growing more familiar to me but I believe too that he dragged one -of his legs as if there were still a weight of iron on it, and that -from head to foot there was Convict in the very grain of the man. -The influences of his solitary hutlife were upon him besides, and -gave him a savage air that no dress could tame added to these, -were the influences of his subsequent branded life among men, and, -crowning all, his consciousness that he was dodging and hiding now. -In all his ways of sitting and standing, and eating and drinking -of brooding about, in a highshouldered reluctant style of taking -out his great hornhandled jackknife and wiping it on his legs and -cutting his food of lifting light glasses and cups to his lips, -as if they were clumsy pannikins of chopping a wedge off his -bread, and soaking up with it the last fragments of gravy round and -round his plate, as if to make the most of an allowance, and then -drying his fingerends on it, and then swallowing it in these -ways and a thousand other small nameless instances arising every -minute in the day, there was Prisoner, Felon, Bondsman, plain as -plain could be. -It had been his own idea to wear that touch of powder, and I had -conceded the powder after overcoming the shorts. But I can compare -the effect of it, when on, to nothing but the probable effect of -rouge upon the dead so awful was the manner in which everything in -him that it was most desirable to repress, started through that -thin layer of pretence, and seemed to come blazing out at the crown -of his head. It was abandoned as soon as tried, and he wore his -grizzled hair cut short. -Words cannot tell what a sense I had, at the same time, of the -dreadful mystery that he was to me. When he fell asleep of an -evening, with his knotted hands clenching the sides of the -easychair, and his bald head tattooed with deep wrinkles falling -forward on his breast, I would sit and look at him, wondering what -he had done, and loading him with all the crimes in the Calendar, -until the impulse was powerful on me to start up and fly from him. -Every hour so increased my abhorrence of him, that I even think I -might have yielded to this impulse in the first agonies of being so -haunted, notwithstanding all he had done for me, and the risk he -ran, but for the knowledge that Herbert must soon come back. Once, -I actually did start out of bed in the night, and begin to dress -myself in my worst clothes, hurriedly intending to leave him there -with everything else I possessed, and enlist for India as a private -soldier. -I doubt if a ghost could have been more terrible to me, up in those -lonely rooms in the long evenings and long nights, with the wind -and the rain always rushing by. A ghost could not have been taken -and hanged on my account, and the consideration that he could be, -and the dread that he would be, were no small addition to my -horrors. When he was not asleep, or playing a complicated kind of -patience with a ragged pack of cards of his own a game that I -never saw before or since, and in which he recorded his winnings by -sticking his jackknife into the table when he was not engaged in -either of these pursuits, he would ask me to read to him "Foreign -language, dear boy" While I complied, he, not comprehending a -single word, would stand before the fire surveying me with the air -of an Exhibitor, and I would see him, between the fingers of the -hand with which I shaded my face, appealing in dumb show to the -furniture to take notice of my proficiency. The imaginary student -pursued by the misshapen creature he had impiously made, was not -more wretched than I, pursued by the creature who had made me, and -recoiling from him with a stronger repulsion, the more he admired -me and the fonder he was of me. -This is written of, I am sensible, as if it had lasted a year. It -lasted about five days. Expecting Herbert all the time, I dared not -go out, except when I took Provis for an airing after dark. At -length, one evening when dinner was over and I had dropped into a -slumber quite worn out for my nights had been agitated and my -rest broken by fearful dreams I was roused by the welcome -footstep on the staircase. Provis, who had been asleep too, -staggered up at the noise I made, and in an instant I saw his -jackknife shining in his hand. -"Quiet It's Herbert" I said and Herbert came bursting in, with -the airy freshness of six hundred miles of France upon him. -"Handel, my dear fellow, how are you, and again how are you, and -again how are you? I seem to have been gone a twelvemonth Why, so I -must have been, for you have grown quite thin and pale Handel, my -Halloa I beg your pardon." -He was stopped in his running on and in his shaking hands with me, -by seeing Provis. Provis, regarding him with a fixed attention, was -slowly putting up his jackknife, and groping in another pocket for -something else. -"Herbert, my dear friend," said I, shutting the double doors, while -Herbert stood staring and wondering, "something very strange has -happened. This is a visitor of mine." -"It's all right, dear boy" said Provis coming forward, with his -little clasped black book, and then addressing himself to Herbert. -"Take it in your right hand. Lord strike you dead on the spot, if -ever you split in any way sumever Kiss it" -"Do so, as he wishes it," I said to Herbert. So, Herbert, looking -at me with a friendly uneasiness and amazement, complied, and -Provis immediately shaking hands with him, said, "Now you're on -your oath, you know. And never believe me on mine, if Pip shan't -make a gentleman on you" -Chapter -In vain should I attempt to describe the astonishment and disquiet -of Herbert, when he and I and Provis sat down before the fire, and -I recounted the whole of the secret. Enough, that I saw my own -feelings reflected in Herbert's face, and, not least among them, my -repugnance towards the man who had done so much for me. -What would alone have set a division between that man and us, if -there had been no other dividing circumstance, was his triumph in -my story. Saving his troublesome sense of having been "low' on one -occasion since his return on which point he began to hold forth -to Herbert, the moment my revelation was finished he had no -perception of the possibility of my finding any fault with my good -fortune. His boast that he had made me a gentleman, and that he had -come to see me support the character on his ample resources, was -made for me quite as much as for himself and that it was a highly -agreeable boast to both of us, and that we must both be very proud -of it, was a conclusion quite established in his own mind. -"Though, look'ee here, Pip's comrade," he said to Herbert, after -having discoursed for some time, "I know very well that once since -I come back for half a minute I've been low. I said to Pip, I -knowed as I had been low. But don't you fret yourself on that -score. I ain't made Pip a gentleman, and Pip ain't agoing to make -you a gentleman, not fur me not to know what's due to ye both. Dear -boy, and Pip's comrade, you two may count upon me always having a -genteel muzzle on. Muzzled I have been since that half a minute -when I was betrayed into lowness, muzzled I am at the present time, -muzzled I ever will be." -Herbert said, "Certainly," but looked as if there were no specific -consolation in this, and remained perplexed and dismayed. We were -anxious for the time when he would go to his lodging, and leave us -together, but he was evidently jealous of leaving us together, and -sat late. It was midnight before I took him round to Essexstreet, -and saw him safely in at his own dark door. When it closed upon -him, I experienced the first moment of relief I had known since the -night of his arrival. -Never quite free from an uneasy remembrance of the man on the -stairs, I had always looked about me in taking my guest out after -dark, and in bringing him back and I looked about me now. -Difficult as it is in a large city to avoid the suspicion of being -watched, when the mind is conscious of danger in that regard, I -could not persuade myself that any of the people within sight cared -about my movements. The few who were passing, passed on their -several ways, and the street was empty when I turned back into the -Temple. Nobody had come out at the gate with us, nobody went in at -the gate with me. As I crossed by the fountain, I saw his lighted -back windows looking bright and quiet, and, when I stood for a few -moments in the doorway of the building where I lived, before going -up the stairs, Gardencourt was as still and lifeless as the -staircase was when I ascended it. -Herbert received me with open arms, and I had never felt before, so -blessedly, what it is to have a friend. When he had spoken some -sound words of sympathy and encouragement, we sat down to consider -the question, What was to be done? -The chair that Provis had occupied still remaining where it had -stood for he had a barrack way with him of hanging about one -spot, in one unsettled manner, and going through one round of -observances with his pipe and his negrohead and his jackknife and -his pack of cards, and what not, as if it were all put down for him -on a slate I say, his chair remaining where it had stood, Herbert -unconsciously took it, but next moment started out of it, pushed it -away, and took another. He had no occasion to say, after that, that -he had conceived an aversion for my patron, neither had I occasion -to confess my own. We interchanged that confidence without shaping -a syllable. -"What," said I to Herbert, when he was safe in another chair, "what -is to be done?" -"My poor dear Handel," he replied, holding his head, "I am too -stunned to think." -"So was I, Herbert, when the blow first fell. Still, something must -be done. He is intent upon various new expenses horses, and -carriages, and lavish appearances of all kinds. He must be stopped -somehow." -"You mean that you can't accept" -"How can I?" I interposed, as Herbert paused. "Think of him Look at -him" -An involuntary shudder passed over both of us. -"Yet I am afraid the dreadful truth is, Herbert, that he is -attached to me, strongly attached to me. Was there ever such a -fate" -"My poor dear Handel," Herbert repeated. -"Then," said I, "after all, stopping short here, never taking -another penny from him, think what I owe him already Then again I -am heavily in debt very heavily for me, who have now no -expectations and I have been bred to no calling, and I am fit for -nothing." -"Well, well, well" Herbert remonstrated. "Don't say fit for -nothing." -"What am I fit for? I know only one thing that I am fit for, and -that is, to go for a soldier. And I might have gone, my dear -Herbert, but for the prospect of taking counsel with your -friendship and affection." -Of course I broke down there and of course Herbert, beyond seizing -a warm grip of my hand, pretended not to know it. -"Anyhow, my dear Handel," said he presently, "soldiering won't do. -If you were to renounce this patronage and these favours, I suppose -you would do so with some faint hope of one day repaying what you -have already had. Not very strong, that hope, if you went -soldiering Besides, it's absurd. You would be infinitely better in -Clarriker's house, small as it is. I am working up towards a -partnership, you know." -Poor fellow He little suspected with whose money. -"But there is another question," said Herbert. "This is an ignorant -determined man, who has long had one fixed idea. More than that, he -seems to me I may misjudge him to be a man of a desperate and -fierce character." -"I know he is," I returned. "Let me tell you what evidence I have -seen of it." And I told him what I had not mentioned in my -narrative of that encounter with the other convict. -"See, then," said Herbert "think of this He comes here at the -peril of his life, for the realization of his fixed idea. In the -moment of realization, after all his toil and waiting, you cut the -ground from under his feet, destroy his idea, and make his gains -worthless to him. Do you see nothing that he might do, under the -disappointment?" -"I have seen it, Herbert, and dreamed of it, ever since the fatal -night of his arrival. Nothing has been in my thoughts so -distinctly, as his putting himself in the way of being taken." -"Then you may rely upon it," said Herbert, "that there would be -great danger of his doing it. That is his power over you as long as -he remains in England, and that would be his reckless course if you -forsook him." -I was so struck by the horror of this idea, which had weighed upon -me from the first, and the working out of which would make me -regard myself, in some sort, as his murderer, that I could not rest -in my chair but began pacing to and fro. I said to Herbert, -meanwhile, that even if Provis were recognized and taken, in spite -of himself, I should be wretched as the cause, however innocently. -Yes even though I was so wretched in having him at large and near -me, and even though I would far far rather have worked at the forge -all the days of my life than I would ever have come to this -But there was no staving off the question, What was to be done? -"The first and the main thing to be done," said Herbert, "is to get -him out of England. You will have to go with him, and then he may -be induced to go." -"But get him where I will, could I prevent his coming back?" -"My good Handel, is it not obvious that with Newgate in the next -street, there must be far greater hazard in your breaking your mind -to him and making him reckless, here, than elsewhere. If a pretext -to get him away could be made out of that other convict, or out of -anything else in his life, now." -"There, again" said I, stopping before Herbert, with my open hands -held out, as if they contained the desperation of the case. "I know -nothing of his life. It has almost made me mad to sit here of a -night and see him before me, so bound up with my fortunes and -misfortunes, and yet so unknown to me, except as the miserable -wretch who terrified me two days in my childhood" -Herbert got up, and linked his arm in mine, and we slowly walked to -and fro together, studying the carpet. -"Handel," said Herbert, stopping, "you feel convinced that you can -take no further benefits from him do you?" -"Fully. Surely you would, too, if you were in my place?" -"And you feel convinced that you must break with him?" -"Herbert, can you ask me?" -"And you have, and are bound to have, that tenderness for the life -he has risked on your account, that you must save him, if possible, -from throwing it away. Then you must get him out of England before -you stir a finger to extricate yourself. That done, extricate -yourself, in Heaven's name, and we'll see it out together, dear old -boy." -It was a comfort to shake hands upon it, and walk up and down -again, with only that done. -"Now, Herbert," said I, "with reference to gaining some knowledge -of his history. There is but one way that I know of. I must ask him -pointblank." -"Yes. Ask him," said Herbert, "when we sit at breakfast in the -morning." For, he had said, on taking leave of Herbert, that he -would come to breakfast with us. -With this project formed, we went to bed. I had the wildest dreams -concerning him, and woke unrefreshed I woke, too, to recover the -fear which I had lost in the night, of his being found out as a -returned transport. Waking, I never lost that fear. -He came round at the appointed time, took out his jackknife, and -sat down to his meal. He was full of plans "for his gentleman's -coming out strong, and like a gentleman," and urged me to begin -speedily upon the pocketbook, which he had left in my possession. -He considered the chambers and his own lodging as temporary -residences, and advised me to look out at once for a "fashionable -crib" near Hyde Park, in which he could have "a shakedown". When -he had made an end of his breakfast, and was wiping his knife on -his leg, I said to him, without a word of preface -"After you were gone last night, I told my friend of the struggle -that the soldiers found you engaged in on the marshes, when we came -up. You remember?" -"Remember" said he. "I think so" -"We want to know something about that man and about you. It is -strange to know no more about either, and particularly you, than I -was able to tell last night. Is not this as good a time as another -for our knowing more?" -"Well" he said, after consideration. "You're on your oath, you -know, Pip's comrade?" -"Assuredly," replied Herbert. -"As to anything I say, you know," he insisted. "The oath applies to -all." -"I understand it to do so." -"And look'ee here Wotever I done, is worked out and paid for," he -insisted again. -"So be it." -He took out his black pipe and was going to fill it with negrohead, -when, looking at the tangle of tobacco in his hand, he seemed to -think it might perplex the thread of his narrative. He put it back -again, stuck his pipe in a buttonhole of his coat, spread a hand -on each knee, and, after turning an angry eye on the fire for a few -silent moments, looked round at us and said what follows. -Chapter -"Dear boy and Pip's comrade. I am not agoing fur to tell you my -life, like a song or a storybook. But to give it you short and -handy, I'll put it at once into a mouthful of English. In jail and -out of jail, in jail and out of jail, in jail and out of jail. -There, you got it. That's my life pretty much, down to such times -as I got shipped off, arter Pip stood my friend. -"I've been done everything to, pretty well except hanged. I've -been locked up, as much as a silver teakettle. I've been carted -here and carted there, and put out of this town and put out of that -town, and stuck in the stocks, and whipped and worried and drove. -I've no more notion where I was born, than you have if so much. I -first become aware of myself, down in Essex, a thieving turnips for -my living. Summun had run away from me a man a tinker and -he'd took the fire with him, and left me wery cold. -"I know'd my name to be Magwitch, chrisen'd Abel. How did I know -it? Much as I know'd the birds' names in the hedges to be -chaffinch, sparrer, thrush. I might have thought it was all lies -together, only as the birds' names come out true, I supposed mine -did. -"So fur as I could find, there warn't a soul that see young Abel -Magwitch, with us little on him as in him, but wot caught fright at -him, and either drove him off, or took him up. I was took up, took -up, took up, to that extent that I reg'larly grow'd up took up. -"This is the way it was, that when I was a ragged little creetur as -much to be pitied as ever I see not that I looked in the glass, -for there warn't many insides of furnished houses known to me, I -got the name of being hardened. "This is a terrible hardened one," -they says to prison wisitors, picking out me. "May be said to live -in jails, this boy. "Then they looked at me, and I looked at them, -and they measured my head, some on 'em they had better ameasured -my stomach and others on 'em giv me tracts what I couldn't read, -and made me speeches what I couldn't understand. They always went -on agen me about the Devil. But what the Devil was I to do? I must -put something into my stomach, mustn't I? Howsomever, I'm a -getting low, and I know what's due. Dear boy and Pip's comrade, -don't you be afeerd of me being low. -"Tramping, begging, thieving, working sometimes when I could -though that warn't as often as you may think, till you put the -question whether you would ha' been overready to give me work -yourselves a bit of a poacher, a bit of a labourer, a bit of a -waggoner, a bit of a haymaker, a bit of a hawker, a bit of most -things that don't pay and lead to trouble, I got to be a man. A -deserting soldier in a Traveller's Rest, what lay hid up to the -chin under a lot of taturs, learnt me to read and a travelling -Giant what signed his name at a penny a time learnt me to write. I -warn't locked up as often now as formerly, but I wore out my good -share of keymetal still. -"At Epsom races, a matter of over twenty years ago, I got -acquainted wi' a man whose skull I'd crack wi' this poker, like the -claw of a lobster, if I'd got it on this hob. His right name was -Compeyson and that's the man, dear boy, what you see me apounding -in the ditch, according to what you truly told your comrade arter I -was gone last night. -"He set up fur a gentleman, this Compeyson, and he'd been to a -public boardingschool and had learning. He was a smooth one to -talk, and was a dab at the ways of gentlefolks. He was -goodlooking too. It was the night afore the great race, when I -found him on the heath, in a booth that I know'd on. Him and some -more was a sitting among the tables when I went in, and the -landlord which had a knowledge of me, and was a sporting one -called him out, and said, 'I think this is a man that might suit -you' meaning I was. -"Compeyson, he looks at me very noticing, and I look at him. He has -a watch and a chain and a ring and a breastpin and a handsome suit -of clothes. -"'To judge from appearances, you're out of luck,' says Compeyson to -me. -"'Yes, master, and I've never been in it much.' I had come out of -Kingston Jail last on a vagrancy committal. Not but what it might -have been for something else but it warn't. -"'Luck changes,' says Compeyson 'perhaps yours is going to change.' -"I says, 'I hope it may be so. There's room.' -"'What can you do?' says Compeyson. -"'Eat and drink,' I says 'if you'll find the materials.' -"Compeyson laughed, looked at me again very noticing, giv me five -shillings, and appointed me for next night. Same place. -"I went to Compeyson next night, same place, and Compeyson took me -on to be his man and pardner. And what was Compeyson's business in -which we was to go pardners? Compeyson's business was the -swindling, handwriting forging, stolen banknote passing, and -suchlike. All sorts of traps as Compeyson could set with his head, -and keep his own legs out of and get the profits from and let -another man in for, was Compeyson's business. He'd no more heart -than a iron file, he was as cold as death, and he had the head of -the Devil afore mentioned. -"There was another in with Compeyson, as was called Arthur not as -being so chrisen'd, but as a surname. He was in a Decline, and was -a shadow to look at. Him and Compeyson had been in a bad thing with -a rich lady some years afore, and they'd made a pot of money by it -but Compeyson betted and gamed, and he'd have run through the -king's taxes. So, Arthur was adying, and adying poor and with the -horrors on him, and Compeyson's wife which Compeyson kicked -mostly was ahaving pity on him when she could, and Compeyson was -ahaving pity on nothing and nobody. -"I might atook warning by Arthur, but I didn't and I won't -pretend I was partick'ler for where 'ud be the good on it, dear -boy and comrade? So I begun wi' Compeyson, and a poor tool I was in -his hands. Arthur lived at the top of Compeyson's house over nigh -Brentford it was, and Compeyson kept a careful account agen him -for board and lodging, in case he should ever get better to work it -out. But Arthur soon settled the account. The second or third time -as ever I see him, he come atearing down into Compeyson's parlour -late at night, in only a flannel gown, with his hair all in a -sweat, and he says to Compeyson's wife, 'Sally, she really is -upstairs alonger me, now, and I can't get rid of her. She's all in -white,' he says, 'wi' white flowers in her hair, and she's awful -mad, and she's got a shroud hanging over her arm, and she says -she'll put it on me at five in the morning.' -"Says Compeyson 'Why, you fool, don't you know she's got a living -body? And how should she be up there, without coming through the -door, or in at the window, and up the stairs?' -"'I don't know how she's there,' says Arthur, shivering dreadful -with the horrors, 'but she's standing in the corner at the foot of -the bed, awful mad. And over where her heart's brook you broke -it there's drops of blood.' -"Compeyson spoke hardy, but he was always a coward. 'Go up alonger -this drivelling sick man,' he says to his wife, 'and Magwitch, lend -her a hand, will you?' But he never come nigh himself. -"Compeyson's wife and me took him up to bed agen, and he raved most -dreadful. 'Why look at her' he cries out. 'She's ashaking the -shroud at me Don't you see her? Look at her eyes Ain't it awful to -see her so mad?' Next, he cries, 'She'll put it on me, and then I'm -done for Take it away from her, take it away' And then he catched -hold of us, and kep on atalking to her, and answering of her, till -I half believed I see her myself. -"Compeyson's wife, being used to him, giv him some liquor to get -the horrors off, and byandby he quieted. 'Oh, she's gone Has her -keeper been for her?' he says. 'Yes,' says Compeyson's wife. 'Did -you tell him to lock her and bar her in?' 'Yes.' 'And to take that -ugly thing away from her?' 'Yes, yes, all right.' 'You're a good -creetur,' he says, 'don't leave me, whatever you do, and thank -you' -"He rested pretty quiet till it might want a few minutes of five, -and then he starts up with a scream, and screams out, 'Here she -is She's got the shroud again. She's unfolding it. She's coming out -of the corner. She's coming to the bed. Hold me, both on you one -of each side don't let her touch me with it. Hah she missed me -that time. Don't let her throw it over my shoulders. Don't let her -lift me up to get it round me. She's lifting me up. Keep me down' -Then he lifted himself up hard, and was dead. -"Compeyson took it easy as a good riddance for both sides. Him and -me was soon busy, and first he swore me being ever artful on my -own book this here little black book, dear boy, what I swore your -comrade on. -"Not to go into the things that Compeyson planned, and I done -which 'ud take a week I'll simply say to you, dear boy, and Pip's -comrade, that that man got me into such nets as made me his black -slave. I was always in debt to him, always under his thumb, always -aworking, always agetting into danger. He was younger than me, -but he'd got craft, and he'd got learning, and he overmatched me -five hundred times told and no mercy. My Missis as I had the hard -time wi' Stop though I ain't brought her in" -He looked about him in a confused way, as if he had lost his place -in the book of his remembrance and he turned his face to the fire, -and spread his hands broader on his knees, and lifted them off and -put them on again. -"There ain't no need to go into it," he said, looking round once -more. "The time wi' Compeyson was a'most as hard a time as ever I -had that said, all's said. Did I tell you as I was tried, alone, -for misdemeanour, while with Compeyson?" -I answered, No. -"Well" he said, "I was, and got convicted. As to took up on -suspicion, that was twice or three times in the four or five year -that it lasted but evidence was wanting. At last, me and Compeyson -was both committed for felony on a charge of putting stolen notes -in circulation and there was other charges behind. Compeyson says -to me, 'Separate defences, no communication,' and that was all. And -I was so miserable poor, that I sold all the clothes I had, except -what hung on my back, afore I could get Jaggers. -"When we was put in the dock, I noticed first of all what a -gentleman Compeyson looked, wi' his curly hair and his black -clothes and his white pockethandkercher, and what a common sort of -a wretch I looked. When the prosecution opened and the evidence was -put short, aforehand, I noticed how heavy it all bore on me, and -how light on him. When the evidence was giv in the box, I noticed -how it was always me that had come for'ard, and could be swore to, -how it was always me that the money had been paid to, how it was -always me that had seemed to work the thing and get the profit. -But, when the defence come on, then I see the plan plainer for, -says the counsellor for Compeyson, 'My lord and gentlemen, here you -has afore you, side by side, two persons as your eyes can separate -wide one, the younger, well brought up, who will be spoke to as -such one, the elder, ill brought up, who will be spoke to as such -one, the younger, seldom if ever seen in these here transactions, -and only suspected t'other, the elder, always seen in 'em and -always wi'his guilt brought home. Can you doubt, if there is but -one in it, which is the one, and, if there is two in it, which is -much the worst one?' And suchlike. And when it come to character, -warn't it Compeyson as had been to the school, and warn't it his -schoolfellows as was in this position and in that, and warn't it -him as had been know'd by witnesses in such clubs and societies, -and nowt to his disadvantage? And warn't it me as had been tried -afore, and as had been know'd up hill and down dale in Bridewells -and LockUps? And when it come to speechmaking, warn't it -Compeyson as could speak to 'em wi' his face dropping every now and -then into his white pockethandkercher ah and wi' verses in his -speech, too and warn't it me as could only say, 'Gentlemen, this -man at my side is a most precious rascal'? And when the verdict -come, warn't it Compeyson as was recommended to mercy on account of -good character and bad company, and giving up all the information -he could agen me, and warn't it me as got never a word but Guilty? -And when I says to Compeyson, 'Once out of this court, I'll smash -that face of yourn' ain't it Compeyson as prays the Judge to be -protected, and gets two turnkeys stood betwixt us? And when we're -sentenced, ain't it him as gets seven year, and me fourteen, and -ain't it him as the Judge is sorry for, because he might a done so -well, and ain't it me as the Judge perceives to be a old offender -of wiolent passion, likely to come to worse?" -He had worked himself into a state of great excitement, but he -checked it, took two or three short breaths, swallowed as often, -and stretching out his hand towards me said, in a reassuring -manner, "I ain't agoing to be low, dear boy" -He had so heated himself that he took out his handkerchief and -wiped his face and head and neck and hands, before he could go on. -"I had said to Compeyson that I'd smash that face of his, and I -swore Lord smash mine to do it. We was in the same prisonship, -but I couldn't get at him for long, though I tried. At last I come -behind him and hit him on the cheek to turn him round and get a -smashing one at him, when I was seen and seized. The blackhole of -that ship warn't a strong one, to a judge of blackholes that could -swim and dive. I escaped to the shore, and I was a hiding among the -graves there, envying them as was in 'em and all over, when I first -see my boy" -He regarded me with a look of affection that made him almost -abhorrent to me again, though I had felt great pity for him. -"By my boy, I was giv to understand as Compeyson was out on them -marshes too. Upon my soul, I half believe he escaped in his terror, -to get quit of me, not knowing it was me as had got ashore. I -hunted him down. I smashed his face. 'And now,' says I 'as the -worst thing I can do, caring nothing for myself, I'll drag you -back.' And I'd have swum off, towing him by the hair, if it had -come to that, and I'd a got him aboard without the soldiers. -"Of course he'd much the best of it to the last his character was -so good. He had escaped when he was made halfwild by me and my -murderous intentions and his punishment was light. I was put in -irons, brought to trial again, and sent for life. I didn't stop for -life, dear boy and Pip's comrade, being here." -"He wiped himself again, as he had done before, and then slowly -took his tangle of tobacco from his pocket, and plucked his pipe -from his buttonhole, and slowly filled it, and began to smoke. -"Is he dead?" I asked, after a silence. -"Is who dead, dear boy?" -"Compeyson." -"He hopes I am, if he's alive, you may be sure," with a fierce -look. "I never heerd no more of him." -Herbert had been writing with his pencil in the cover of a book. He -softly pushed the book over to me, as Provis stood smoking with his -eyes on the fire, and I read in it -"Young Havisham's name was Arthur. Compeyson is the man who -professed to be Miss Havisham's lover." -I shut the book and nodded slightly to Herbert, and put the book -by but we neither of us said anything, and both looked at Provis -as he stood smoking by the fire. -Chapter -Why should I pause to ask how much of my shrinking from Provis -might be traced to Estella? Why should I loiter on my road, to -compare the state of mind in which I had tried to rid myself of the -stain of the prison before meeting her at the coachoffice, with -the state of mind in which I now reflected on the abyss between -Estella in her pride and beauty, and the returned transport whom I -harboured? The road would be none the smoother for it, the end -would be none the better for it, he would not be helped, nor I -extenuated. -A new fear had been engendered in my mind by his narrative or -rather, his narrative had given form and purpose to the fear that -was already there. If Compeyson were alive and should discover his -return, I could hardly doubt the consequence. That, Compeyson stood -in mortal fear of him, neither of the two could know much better -than I and that, any such man as that man had been described to -be, would hesitate to release himself for good from a dreaded enemy -by the safe means of becoming an informer, was scarcely to be -imagined. -Never had I breathed, and never would I breathe or so I resolved -a word of Estella to Provis. But, I said to Herbert that before I -could go abroad, I must see both Estella and Miss Havisham. This -was when we were left alone on the night of the day when Provis -told us his story. I resolved to go out to Richmond next day, and I -went. -On my presenting myself at Mrs. Brandley's, Estella's maid was -called to tell that Estella had gone into the country. Where? To -Satis House, as usual. Not as usual, I said, for she had never yet -gone there without me when was she coming back? There was an air -of reservation in the answer which increased my perplexity, and the -answer was, that her maid believed she was only coming back at all -for a little while. I could make nothing of this, except that it -was meant that I should make nothing of it, and I went home again -in complete discomfiture. -Another nightconsultation with Herbert after Provis was gone home -I always took him home, and always looked well about me, led us -to the conclusion that nothing should be said about going abroad -until I came back from Miss Havisham's. In the meantime, Herbert -and I were to consider separately what it would be best to say -whether we should devise any pretence of being afraid that he was -under suspicious observation or whether I, who had never yet been -abroad, should propose an expedition. We both knew that I had but -to propose anything, and he would consent. We agreed that his -remaining many days in his present hazard was not to be thought of. -Next day, I had the meanness to feign that I was under a binding -promise to go down to Joe but I was capable of almost any meanness -towards Joe or his name. Provis was to be strictly careful while I -was gone, and Herbert was to take the charge of him that I had -taken. I was to be absent only one night, and, on my return, the -gratification of his impatience for my starting as a gentleman on a -greater scale, was to be begun. It occurred to me then, and as I -afterwards found to Herbert also, that he might be best got away -across the water, on that pretence as, to make purchases, or the -like. -Having thus cleared the way for my expedition to Miss Havisham's, I -set off by the early morning coach before it was yet light, and was -out on the open countryroad when the day came creeping on, halting -and whimpering and shivering, and wrapped in patches of cloud and -rags of mist, like a beggar. When we drove up to the Blue Boar -after a drizzly ride, whom should I see come out under the gateway, -toothpick in hand, to look at the coach, but Bentley Drummle -As he pretended not to see me, I pretended not to see him. It was a -very lame pretence on both sides the lamer, because we both went -into the coffeeroom, where he had just finished his breakfast, and -where I ordered mine. It was poisonous to me to see him in the -town, for I very well knew why he had come there. -Pretending to read a smeary newspaper long out of date, which had -nothing half so legible in its local news, as the foreign matter of -coffee, pickles, fishsauces, gravy, melted butter, and wine, with -which it was sprinkled all over, as if it had taken the measles in -a highly irregular form, I sat at my table while he stood before -the fire. By degrees it became an enormous injury to me that he -stood before the fire, and I got up, determined to have my share of -it. I had to put my hand behind his legs for the poker when I went -up to the fireplace to stir the fire, but still pretended not to -know him. -"Is this a cut?" said Mr. Drummle. -"Oh" said I, poker in hand "it's you, is it? How do you do? I was -wondering who it was, who kept the fire off." -With that, I poked tremendously, and having done so, planted myself -side by side with Mr. Drummle, my shoulders squared and my back to -the fire. -"You have just come down?" said Mr. Drummle, edging me a little away -with his shoulder. -"Yes," said I, edging him a little away with my shoulder. -"Beastly place," said Drummle. "Your part of the country, I -think?" -"Yes," I assented. "I am told it's very like your Shropshire." -"Not in the least like it," said Drummle. -Here Mr. Drummle looked at his boots, and I looked at mine, and then -Mr. Drummle looked at my boots, and I looked at his. -"Have you been here long?" I asked, determined not to yield an inch -of the fire. -"Long enough to be tired of it," returned Drummle, pretending to -yawn, but equally determined. -"Do you stay here long?" -"Can't say," answered Mr. Drummle. "Do you?" -"Can't say," said I. -I felt here, through a tingling in my blood, that if Mr. Drummle's -shoulder had claimed another hair's breadth of room, I should have -jerked him into the window equally, that if my own shoulder had -urged a similar claim, Mr. Drummle would have jerked me into the -nearest box. He whistled a little. So did I. -"Large tract of marshes about here, I believe?" said Drummle. -"Yes. What of that?" said I. -Mr. Drummle looked at me, and then at my boots, and then said, "Oh" -and laughed. -"Are you amused, Mr. Drummle?" -"No," said he, "not particularly. I am going out for a ride in the -saddle. I mean to explore those marshes for amusement. -Outoftheway villages there, they tell me. Curious little -publichouses and smithies and that. Waiter" -"Yes, sir." -"Is that horse of mine ready?" -"Brought round to the door, sir." -"I say. Look here, you sir. The lady won't ride today the weather -won't do." -"Very good, sir." -"And I don't dine, because I'm going to dine at the lady's." -"Very good, sir." -Then, Drummle glanced at me, with an insolent triumph on his -greatjowled face that cut me to the heart, dull as he was, and so -exasperated me, that I felt inclined to take him in my arms as the -robber in the storybook is said to have taken the old lady, and -seat him on the fire. -One thing was manifest to both of us, and that was, that until -relief came, neither of us could relinquish the fire. There we -stood, well squared up before it, shoulder to shoulder and foot to -foot, with our hands behind us, not budging an inch. The horse was -visible outside in the drizzle at the door, my breakfast was put on -the table, Drummle's was cleared away, the waiter invited me to -begin, I nodded, we both stood our ground. -"Have you been to the Grove since?" said Drummle. -"No," said I, "I had quite enough of the Finches the last time I -was there." -"Was that when we had a difference of opinion?" -"Yes," I replied, very shortly. -"Come, come They let you off easily enough," sneered Drummle. "You -shouldn't have lost your temper." -"Mr. Drummle," said I, "you are not competent to give advice on that -subject. When I lose my temper not that I admit having done so on -that occasion, I don't throw glasses." -"I do," said Drummle. -After glancing at him once or twice, in an increased state of -smouldering ferocity, I said -"Mr. Drummle, I did not seek this conversation, and I don't think it -an agreeable one." -"I am sure it's not," said he, superciliously over his shoulder "I -don't think anything about it." -"And therefore," I went on, "with your leave, I will suggest that -we hold no kind of communication in future." -"Quite my opinion," said Drummle, "and what I should have suggested -myself, or done more likely without suggesting. But don't lose -your temper. Haven't you lost enough without that?" -"What do you mean, sir?" -"Waiter" said Drummle, by way of answering me. -The waiter reappeared. -"Look here, you sir. You quite understand that the young lady don't -ride today, and that I dine at the young lady's?" -"Quite so, sir" -When the waiter had felt my fast cooling teapot with the palm of -his hand, and had looked imploringly at me, and had gone out, -Drummle, careful not to move the shoulder next me, took a cigar -from his pocket and bit the end off, but showed no sign of -stirring. Choking and boiling as I was, I felt that we could not go -a word further, without introducing Estella's name, which I could -not endure to hear him utter and therefore I looked stonily at the -opposite wall, as if there were no one present, and forced myself -to silence. How long we might have remained in this ridiculous -position it is impossible to say, but for the incursion of three -thriving farmers led on by the waiter, I think who came into -the coffeeroom unbuttoning their greatcoats and rubbing their -hands, and before whom, as they charged at the fire, we were -obliged to give way. -I saw him through the window, seizing his horse's mane, and -mounting in his blundering brutal manner, and sidling and backing -away. I thought he was gone, when he came back, calling for a light -for the cigar in his mouth, which he had forgotten. A man in a -dustcoloured dress appeared with what was wanted I could not have -said from where whether from the inn yard, or the street, or where -not and as Drummle leaned down from the saddle and lighted his -cigar and laughed, with a jerk of his head towards the coffeeroom -windows, the slouching shoulders and ragged hair of this man, whose -back was towards me, reminded me of Orlick. -Too heavily out of sorts to care much at the time whether it were -he or no, or after all to touch the breakfast, I washed the weather -and the journey from my face and hands, and went out to the -memorable old house that it would have been so much the better for -me never to have entered, never to have seen. -Chapter -In the room where the dressingtable stood, and where the wax -candles burnt on the wall, I found Miss Havisham and Estella Miss -Havisham seated on a settee near the fire, and Estella on a cushion -at her feet. Estella was knitting, and Miss Havisham was looking -on. They both raised their eyes as I went in, and both saw an -alteration in me. I derived that, from the look they interchanged. -"And what wind," said Miss Havisham, "blows you here, Pip?" -Though she looked steadily at me, I saw that she was rather -confused. Estella, pausing a moment in her knitting with her eyes -upon me, and then going on, I fancied that I read in the action of -her fingers, as plainly as if she had told me in the dumb alphabet, -that she perceived I had discovered my real benefactor. -"Miss Havisham," said I, "I went to Richmond yesterday, to speak to -Estella and finding that some wind had blown her here, I -followed." -Miss Havisham motioning to me for the third or fourth time to sit -down, I took the chair by the dressingtable, which I had often -seen her occupy. With all that ruin at my feet and about me, it -seemed a natural place for me, that day. -"What I had to say to Estella, Miss Havisham, I will say before -you, presently in a few moments. It will not surprise you, it -will not displease you. I am as unhappy as you can ever have meant -me to be." -Miss Havisham continued to look steadily at me. I could see in the -action of Estella's fingers as they worked, that she attended to -what I said but she did not look up. -"I have found out who my patron is. It is not a fortunate -discovery, and is not likely ever to enrich me in reputation, -station, fortune, anything. There are reasons why I must say no -more of that. It is not my secret, but another's." -As I was silent for a while, looking at Estella and considering how -to go on, Miss Havisham repeated, "It is not your secret, but -another's. Well?" -"When you first caused me to be brought here, Miss Havisham when I -belonged to the village over yonder, that I wish I had never left -I suppose I did really come here, as any other chance boy might -have come as a kind of servant, to gratify a want or a whim, and -to be paid for it?" -"Ay, Pip," replied Miss Havisham, steadily nodding her head "you -did." -"And that Mr. Jaggers" -"Mr. Jaggers," said Miss Havisham, taking me up in a firm tone, "had -nothing to do with it, and knew nothing of it. His being my lawyer, -and his being the lawyer of your patron, is a coincidence. He holds -the same relation towards numbers of people, and it might easily -arise. Be that as it may, it did arise, and was not brought about -by any one." -Any one might have seen in her haggard face that there was no -suppression or evasion so far. -"But when I fell into the mistake I have so long remained in, at -least you led me on?" said I. -"Yes," she returned, again nodding, steadily, "I let you go on." -"Was that kind?" -"Who am I," cried Miss Havisham, striking her stick upon the floor -and flashing into wrath so suddenly that Estella glanced up at her -in surprise, "who am I, for God's sake, that I should be kind?" -It was a weak complaint to have made, and I had not meant to make -it. I told her so, as she sat brooding after this outburst. -"Well, well, well" she said. "What else?" -"I was liberally paid for my old attendance here," I said, to -soothe her, "in being apprenticed, and I have asked these questions -only for my own information. What follows has another and I hope -more disinterested purpose. In humouring my mistake, Miss -Havisham, you punished practised on perhaps you will supply -whatever term expresses your intention, without offence your -selfseeking relations?" -"I did. Why, they would have it so So would you. What has been my -history, that I should be at the pains of entreating either them, -or you, not to have it so You made your own snares. I never made -them." -Waiting until she was quiet again for this, too, flashed out of -her in a wild and sudden way I went on. -"I have been thrown among one family of your relations, Miss -Havisham, and have been constantly among them since I went to -London. I know them to have been as honestly under my delusion as I -myself. And I should be false and base if I did not tell you, -whether it is acceptable to you or no, and whether you are inclined -to give credence to it or no, that you deeply wrong both Mr. Matthew -Pocket and his son Herbert, if you suppose them to be otherwise -than generous, upright, open, and incapable of anything designing -or mean." -"They are your friends," said Miss Havisham. -"They made themselves my friends," said I, "when they supposed me -to have superseded them and when Sarah Pocket, Miss Georgiana, and -Mistress Camilla, were not my friends, I think." -This contrasting of them with the rest seemed, I was glad to see, -to do them good with her. She looked at me keenly for a little -while, and then said quietly -"What do you want for them?" -"Only," said I, "that you would not confound them with the others. -They may be of the same blood, but, believe me, they are not of the -same nature." -Still looking at me keenly, Miss Havisham repeated -"What do you want for them?" -"I am not so cunning, you see," I said, in answer, conscious that I -reddened a little, "as that I could hide from you, even if I -desired, that I do want something. Miss Havisham, if you would -spare the money to do my friend Herbert a lasting service in life, -but which from the nature of the case must be done without his -knowledge, I could show you how." -"Why must it be done without his knowledge?" she asked, settling -her hands upon her stick, that she might regard me the more -attentively. -"Because," said I, "I began the service myself, more than two years -ago, without his knowledge, and I don't want to be betrayed. Why I -fail in my ability to finish it, I cannot explain. It is a part of -the secret which is another person's and not mine." -She gradually withdrew her eyes from me, and turned them on the -fire. After watching it for what appeared in the silence and by the -light of the slowly wasting candles to be a long time, she was -roused by the collapse of some of the red coals, and looked towards -me again at first, vacantly then, with a gradually -concentrating attention. All this time, Estella knitted on. When -Miss Havisham had fixed her attention on me, she said, speaking as -if there had been no lapse in our dialogue -"What else?" -"Estella," said I, turning to her now, and trying to command my -trembling voice, "you know I love you. You know that I have loved -you long and dearly." -She raised her eyes to my face, on being thus addressed, and her -fingers plied their work, and she looked at me with an unmoved -countenance. I saw that Miss Havisham glanced from me to her, and -from her to me. -"I should have said this sooner, but for my long mistake. It -induced me to hope that Miss Havisham meant us for one another. -While I thought you could not help yourself, as it were, I -refrained from saying it. But I must say it now." -Preserving her unmoved countenance, and with her fingers still -going, Estella shook her head. -"I know," said I, in answer to that action "I know. I have no hope -that I shall ever call you mine, Estella. I am ignorant what may -become of me very soon, how poor I may be, or where I may go. -Still, I love you. I have loved you ever since I first saw you in -this house." -Looking at me perfectly unmoved and with her fingers busy, she -shook her head again. -"It would have been cruel in Miss Havisham, horribly cruel, to -practise on the susceptibility of a poor boy, and to torture me -through all these years with a vain hope and an idle pursuit, if -she had reflected on the gravity of what she did. But I think she -did not. I think that in the endurance of her own trial, she forgot -mine, Estella." -I saw Miss Havisham put her hand to her heart and hold it there, as -she sat looking by turns at Estella and at me. -"It seems," said Estella, very calmly, "that there are sentiments, -fancies I don't know how to call them which I am not able to -comprehend. When you say you love me, I know what you mean, as a -form of words but nothing more. You address nothing in my breast, -you touch nothing there. I don't care for what you say at all. I -have tried to warn you of this now, have I not?" -I said in a miserable manner, "Yes." -"Yes. But you would not be warned, for you thought I did not mean -it. Now, did you not think so?" -"I thought and hoped you could not mean it. You, so young, untried, -and beautiful, Estella Surely it is not in Nature." -"It is in my nature," she returned. And then she added, with a -stress upon the words, "It is in the nature formed within me. I -make a great difference between you and all other people when I say -so much. I can do no more." -"Is it not true," said I, "that Bentley Drummle is in town here, -and pursuing you?" -"It is quite true," she replied, referring to him with the -indifference of utter contempt. -"That you encourage him, and ride out with him, and that he dines -with you this very day?" -She seemed a little surprised that I should know it, but again -replied, "Quite true." -"You cannot love him, Estella" -Her fingers stopped for the first time, as she retorted rather -angrily, "What have I told you? Do you still think, in spite of it, -that I do not mean what I say?" -"You would never marry him, Estella?" -She looked towards Miss Havisham, and considered for a moment with -her work in her hands. Then she said, "Why not tell you the truth? -I am going to be married to him." -I dropped my face into my hands, but was able to control myself -better than I could have expected, considering what agony it gave -me to hear her say those words. When I raised my face again, there -was such a ghastly look upon Miss Havisham's, that it impressed me, -even in my passionate hurry and grief. -"Estella, dearest dearest Estella, do not let Miss Havisham lead -you into this fatal step. Put me aside for ever you have done so, -I well know but bestow yourself on some worthier person than -Drummle. Miss Havisham gives you to him, as the greatest slight and -injury that could be done to the many far better men who admire -you, and to the few who truly love you. Among those few, there may -be one who loves you even as dearly, though he has not loved you as -long, as I. Take him, and I can bear it better, for your sake" -My earnestness awoke a wonder in her that seemed as if it would -have been touched with compassion, if she could have rendered me at -all intelligible to her own mind. -"I am going," she said again, in a gentler voice, "to be married to -him. The preparations for my marriage are making, and I shall be -married soon. Why do you injuriously introduce the name of my -mother by adoption? It is my own act." -"Your own act, Estella, to fling yourself away upon a brute?" -"On whom should I fling myself away?" she retorted, with a smile. -"Should I fling myself away upon the man who would the soonest feel -if people do feel such things that I took nothing to him? There -It is done. I shall do well enough, and so will my husband. As to -leading me into what you call this fatal step, Miss Havisham would -have had me wait, and not marry yet but I am tired of the life I -have led, which has very few charms for me, and I am willing enough -to change it. Say no more. We shall never understand each other." -"Such a mean brute, such a stupid brute" I urged in despair. -"Don't be afraid of my being a blessing to him," said Estella "I -shall not be that. Come Here is my hand. Do we part on this, you -visionary boy or man?" -"O Estella" I answered, as my bitter tears fell fast on her hand, -do what I would to restrain them "even if I remained in England -and could hold my head up with the rest, how could I see you -Drummle's wife?" -"Nonsense," she returned, "nonsense. This will pass in no time." -"Never, Estella" -"You will get me out of your thoughts in a week." -"Out of my thoughts You are part of my existence, part of myself. -You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came -here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. -You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since on the -river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in -the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, -in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful -fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of -which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, -or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than your -presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and -will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose -but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, -part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with -the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you -must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what -sharp distress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you" -In what ecstasy of unhappiness I got these broken words out of -myself, I don't know. The rhapsody welled up within me, like blood -from an inward wound, and gushed out. I held her hand to my lips -some lingering moments, and so I left her. But ever afterwards, I -remembered and soon afterwards with stronger reason that while -Estella looked at me merely with incredulous wonder, the spectral -figure of Miss Havisham, her hand still covering her heart, seemed -all resolved into a ghastly stare of pity and remorse. -All done, all gone So much was done and gone, that when I went out -at the gate, the light of the day seemed of a darker colour than -when I went in. For a while, I hid myself among some lanes and -bypaths, and then struck off to walk all the way to London. For, I -had by that time come to myself so far, as to consider that I could -not go back to the inn and see Drummle there that I could not bear -to sit upon the coach and be spoken to that I could do nothing -half so good for myself as tire myself out. -It was past midnight when I crossed London Bridge. Pursuing the -narrow intricacies of the streets which at that time tended -westward near the Middlesex shore of the river, my readiest access -to the Temple was close by the riverside, through Whitefriars. I -was not expected till tomorrow, but I had my keys, and, if Herbert -were gone to bed, could get to bed myself without disturbing him. -As it seldom happened that I came in at that Whitefriars gate after -the Temple was closed, and as I was very muddy and weary, I did not -take it ill that the nightporter examined me with much attention -as he held the gate a little way open for me to pass in. To help -his memory I mentioned my name. -"I was not quite sure, sir, but I thought so. Here's a note, sir. -The messenger that brought it, said would you be so good as read it -by my lantern?" -Much surprised by the request, I took the note. It was directed to -Philip Pip, Esquire, and on the top of the superscription were the -words, "PLEASE READ THIS, HERE." I opened it, the watchman holding -up his light, and read inside, in Wemmick's writing -"DON'T GO HOME." -Chapter -Turning from the Temple gate as soon as I had read the warning, I -made the best of my way to Fleetstreet, and there got a late -hackney chariot and drove to the Hummums in Covent Garden. In those -times a bed was always to be got there at any hour of the night, -and the chamberlain, letting me in at his ready wicket, lighted the -candle next in order on his shelf, and showed me straight into the -bedroom next in order on his list. It was a sort of vault on the -ground floor at the back, with a despotic monster of a fourpost -bedstead in it, straddling over the whole place, putting one of his -arbitrary legs into the fireplace and another into the doorway, -and squeezing the wretched little washingstand in quite a Divinely -Righteous manner. -As I had asked for a nightlight, the chamberlain had brought me -in, before he left me, the good old constitutional rushlight of -those virtuous days an object like the ghost of a walkingcane, -which instantly broke its back if it were touched, which nothing -could ever be lighted at, and which was placed in solitary -confinement at the bottom of a high tin tower, perforated with -round holes that made a staringly wideawake pattern on the walls. -When I had got into bed, and lay there footsore, weary, and -wretched, I found that I could no more close my own eyes than I -could close the eyes of this foolish Argus. And thus, in the gloom -and death of the night, we stared at one another. -What a doleful night How anxious, how dismal, how long There was -an inhospitable smell in the room, of cold soot and hot dust and, -as I looked up into the corners of the tester over my head, I -thought what a number of bluebottle flies from the butchers', and -earwigs from the market, and grubs from the country, must be -holding on up there, lying by for next summer. This led me to -speculate whether any of them ever tumbled down, and then I fancied -that I felt light falls on my face a disagreeable turn of thought, -suggesting other and more objectionable approaches up my back. When -I had lain awake a little while, those extraordinary voices with -which silence teems, began to make themselves audible. The closet -whispered, the fireplace sighed, the little washingstand ticked, -and one guitarstring played occasionally in the chest of drawers. -At about the same time, the eyes on the wall acquired a new -expression, and in every one of those staring rounds I saw -written, DON'T GO HOME. -Whatever nightfancies and nightnoises crowded on me, they never -warded off this DON'T GO HOME. It plaited itself into whatever I -thought of, as a bodily pain would have done. Not long before, I -had read in the newspapers, how a gentleman unknown had come to the -Hummums in the night, and had gone to bed, and had destroyed -himself, and had been found in the morning weltering in blood. It -came into my head that he must have occupied this very vault of -mine, and I got out of bed to assure myself that there were no red -marks about then opened the door to look out into the passages, -and cheer myself with the companionship of a distant light, near -which I knew the chamberlain to be dozing. But all this time, why I -was not to go home, and what had happened at home, and when I -should go home, and whether Provis was safe at home, were questions -occupying my mind so busily, that one might have supposed there -could be no more room in it for any other theme. Even when I -thought of Estella, and how we had parted that day for ever, and -when I recalled all the circumstances of our parting, and all her -looks and tones, and the action of her fingers while she knitted -even then I was pursuing, here and there and everywhere, the -caution Don't go home. When at last I dozed, in sheer exhaustion of -mind and body, it became a vast shadowy verb which I had to -conjugate. Imperative mood, present tense Do not thou go home, let -him not go home, let us not go home, do not ye or you go home, let -not them go home. Then, potentially I may not and I cannot go -home and I might not, could not, would not, and should not go -home until I felt that I was going distracted, and rolled over on -the pillow, and looked at the staring rounds upon the wall again. -I had left directions that I was to be called at seven for it was -plain that I must see Wemmick before seeing any one else, and -equally plain that this was a case in which his Walworth -sentiments, only, could be taken. It was a relief to get out of the -room where the night had been so miserable, and I needed no second -knocking at the door to startle me from my uneasy bed. -The Castle battlements arose upon my view at eight o'clock. The -little servant happening to be entering the fortress with two hot -rolls, I passed through the postern and crossed the drawbridge, in -her company, and so came without announcement into the presence of -Wemmick as he was making tea for himself and the Aged. An open door -afforded a perspective view of the Aged in bed. -"Halloa, Mr. Pip" said Wemmick. "You did come home, then?" -"Yes," I returned "but I didn't go home." -"That's all right," said he, rubbing his hands. "I left a note for -you at each of the Temple gates, on the chance. Which gate did you -come to?" -I told him. -"I'll go round to the others in the course of the day and destroy -the notes," said Wemmick "it's a good rule never to leave -documentary evidence if you can help it, because you don't know -when it may be put in. I'm going to take a liberty with you. -Would you mind toasting this sausage for the Aged P.?" -I said I should be delighted to do it. -"Then you can go about your work, Mary Anne," said Wemmick to the -little servant "which leaves us to ourselves, don't you see, Mr. -Pip?" he added, winking, as she disappeared. -I thanked him for his friendship and caution, and our discourse -proceeded in a low tone, while I toasted the Aged's sausage and he -buttered the crumb of the Aged's roll. -"Now, Mr. Pip, you know," said Wemmick, "you and I understand one -another. We are in our private and personal capacities, and we have -been engaged in a confidential transaction before today. Official -sentiments are one thing. We are extra official." -I cordially assented. I was so very nervous, that I had already -lighted the Aged's sausage like a torch, and been obliged to blow -it out. -"I accidentally heard, yesterday morning," said Wemmick, "being in -a certain place where I once took you even between you and me, -it's as well not to mention names when avoidable" -"Much better not," said I. "I understand you." -"I heard there by chance, yesterday morning," said Wemmick, "that a -certain person not altogether of uncolonial pursuits, and not -unpossessed of portable property I don't know who it may really -be we won't name this person" -"Not necessary," said I. -" had made some little stir in a certain part of the world where -a good many people go, not always in gratification of their own -inclinations, and not quite irrespective of the government -expense" -In watching his face, I made quite a firework of the Aged's -sausage, and greatly discomposed both my own attention and -Wemmick's for which I apologized. -" by disappearing from such place, and being no more heard of -thereabouts. From which," said Wemmick, "conjectures had been -raised and theories formed. I also heard that you at your chambers -in Garden Court, Temple, had been watched, and might be watched -again." -"By whom?" said I. -"I wouldn't go into that," said Wemmick, evasively, "it might clash -with official responsibilities. I heard it, as I have in my time -heard other curious things in the same place. I don't tell it you -on information received. I heard it." -He took the toastingfork and sausage from me as he spoke, and set -forth the Aged's breakfast neatly on a little tray. Previous to -placing it before him, he went into the Aged's room with a clean -white cloth, and tied the same under the old gentleman's chin, and -propped him up, and put his nightcap on one side, and gave him -quite a rakish air. Then, he placed his breakfast before him with -great care, and said, "All right, ain't you, Aged P.?" To which the -cheerful Aged replied, "All right, John, my boy, all right" As -there seemed to be a tacit understanding that the Aged was not in a -presentable state, and was therefore to be considered invisible, I -made a pretence of being in complete ignorance of these -proceedings. -"This watching of me at my chambers which I have once had reason -to suspect," I said to Wemmick when he came back, "is inseparable -from the person to whom you have adverted is it?" -Wemmick looked very serious. "I couldn't undertake to say that, of -my own knowledge. I mean, I couldn't undertake to say it was at -first. But it either is, or it will be, or it's in great danger of -being." -As I saw that he was restrained by fealty to Little Britain from -saying as much as he could, and as I knew with thankfulness to him -how far out of his way he went to say what he did, I could not -press him. But I told him, after a little meditation over the fire, -that I would like to ask him a question, subject to his answering -or not answering, as he deemed right, and sure that his course -would be right. He paused in his breakfast, and crossing his arms, -and pinching his shirtsleeves his notion of indoor comfort was to -sit without any coat, he nodded to me once, to put my question. -"You have heard of a man of bad character, whose true name is -Compeyson?" -He answered with one other nod. -"Is he living?" -One other nod. -"Is he in London?" -He gave me one other nod, compressed the postoffice exceedingly, -gave me one last nod, and went on with his breakfast. -"Now," said Wemmick, "questioning being over" which he emphasized -and repeated for my guidance "I come to what I did, after hearing -what I heard. I went to Garden Court to find you not finding you, -I went to Clarriker's to find Mr. Herbert." -"And him you found?" said I, with great anxiety. -"And him I found. Without mentioning any names or going into any -details, I gave him to understand that if he was aware of anybody -Tom, Jack, or Richard being about the chambers, or about the -immediate neighbourhood, he had better get Tom, Jack, or Richard, -out of the way while you were out of the way." -"He would be greatly puzzled what to do?" -"He was puzzled what to do not the less, because I gave him my -opinion that it was not safe to try to get Tom, Jack, or Richard, -too far out of the way at present. Mr. Pip, I'll tell you something. -Under existing circumstances there is no place like a great city -when you are once in it. Don't break cover too soon. Lie close. -Wait till things slacken, before you try the open, even for foreign -air." -I thanked him for his valuable advice, and asked him what Herbert -had done? -"Mr. Herbert," said Wemmick, "after being all of a heap for half an -hour, struck out a plan. He mentioned to me as a secret, that he is -courting a young lady who has, as no doubt you are aware, a -bedridden Pa. Which Pa, having been in the Purser line of life, -lies abed in a bowwindow where he can see the ships sail up and -down the river. You are acquainted with the young lady, most -probably?" -"Not personally," said I. -The truth was, that she had objected to me as an expensive -companion who did Herbert no good, and that, when Herbert had first -proposed to present me to her, she had received the proposal with -such very moderate warmth, that Herbert had felt himself obliged to -confide the state of the case to me, with a view to the lapse of a -little time before I made her acquaintance. When I had begun to -advance Herbert's prospects by Stealth, I had been able to bear -this with cheerful philosophy he and his affianced, for their -part, had naturally not been very anxious to introduce a third -person into their interviews and thus, although I was assured that -I had risen in Clara's esteem, and although the young lady and I -had long regularly interchanged messages and remembrances by -Herbert, I had never seen her. However, I did not trouble Wemmick -with these particulars. -"The house with the bowwindow," said Wemmick, "being by the -riverside, down the Pool there between Limehouse and Greenwich, -and being kept, it seems, by a very respectable widow who has a -furnished upper floor to let, Mr. Herbert put it to me, what did I -think of that as a temporary tenement for Tom, Jack, or Richard? -Now, I thought very well of it, for three reasons I'll give you. -That is to say. Firstly. It's altogether out of all your beats, and -is well away from the usual heap of streets great and small. -Secondly. Without going near it yourself, you could always hear of -the safety of Tom, Jack, or Richard, through Mr. Herbert. Thirdly. -After a while and when it might be prudent, if you should want to -slip Tom, Jack, or Richard, on board a foreign packetboat, there -he is ready." -Much comforted by these considerations, I thanked Wemmick again and -again, and begged him to proceed. -"Well, sir Mr. Herbert threw himself into the business with a will, -and by nine o'clock last night he housed Tom, Jack, or Richard -whichever it may be you and I don't want to know quite -successfully. At the old lodgings it was understood that he was -summoned to Dover, and in fact he was taken down the Dover road and -cornered out of it. Now, another great advantage of all this, is, -that it was done without you, and when, if any one was concerning -himself about your movements, you must be known to be ever so many -miles off and quite otherwise engaged. This diverts suspicion and -confuses it and for the same reason I recommended that even if you -came back last night, you should not go home. It brings in more -confusion, and you want confusion." -Wemmick, having finished his breakfast, here looked at his watch, -and began to get his coat on. -"And now, Mr. Pip," said he, with his hands still in the sleeves, "I -have probably done the most I can do but if I can ever do more -from a Walworth point of view, and in a strictly private and -personal capacity I shall be glad to do it. Here's the address. -There can be no harm in your going here tonight and seeing for -yourself that all is well with Tom, Jack, or Richard, before you go -home which is another reason for your not going home last night. -But after you have gone home, don't go back here. You are very -welcome, I am sure, Mr. Pip" his hands were now out of his sleeves, -and I was shaking them "and let me finally impress one important -point upon you." He laid his hands upon my shoulders, and added in -a solemn whisper "Avail yourself of this evening to lay hold of -his portable property. You don't know what may happen to him. Don't -let anything happen to the portable property." -Quite despairing of making my mind clear to Wemmick on this point, -I forbore to try. -"Time's up," said Wemmick, "and I must be off. If you had nothing -more pressing to do than to keep here till dark, that's what I -should advise. You look very much worried, and it would do you good -to have a perfectly quiet day with the Aged he'll be up presently -and a little bit of you remember the pig?" -"Of course," said I. -"Well and a little bit of him. That sausage you toasted was his, -and he was in all respects a firstrater. Do try him, if it is only -for old acquaintance sake. Goodbye, Aged Parent" in a cheery -shout. -"All right, John all right, my boy" piped the old man from -within. -I soon fell asleep before Wemmick's fire, and the Aged and I -enjoyed one another's society by falling asleep before it more or -less all day. We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown on -the estate, and I nodded at the Aged with a good intention whenever -I failed to do it drowsily. When it was quite dark, I left the Aged -preparing the fire for toast and I inferred from the number of -teacups, as well as from his glances at the two little doors in the -wall, that Miss Skiffins was expected. -Chapter -Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that was -scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the -longshore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All that -waterside region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was -unknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I found -that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and -was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank, -Chinks's Basin and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than the -Old Green Copper RopeWalk. -It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lost -myself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked to -pieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards of -shipbuilders and shipbreakers, what rusty anchors blindly biting -into the ground though for years off duty, what mountainous country -of accumulated casks and timber, how many ropewalks that were not -the Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of my -destination and as often overshooting it, I came unexpectedly -round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place, -all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river had -room to turn itself round and there were two or three trees in it, -and there was the stump of a ruined windmill, and there was the Old -Green Copper RopeWalk whose long and narrow vista I could trace -in the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in the -ground, that looked like superannuated haymakingrakes which had -grown old and lost most of their teeth. -Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank, a house -with a wooden front and three stories of bowwindow not -baywindow, which is another thing, I looked at the plate upon the -door, and read there, Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, I -knocked, and an elderly woman of a pleasant and thriving appearance -responded. She was immediately deposed, however, by Herbert, who -silently led me into the parlour and shut the door. It was an odd -sensation to see his very familiar face established quite at home -in that very unfamiliar room and region and I found myself looking -at him, much as I looked at the cornercupboard with the glass and -china, the shells upon the chimneypiece, and the coloured -engravings on the wall, representing the death of Captain Cook, a -shiplaunch, and his Majesty King George the Third in a -statecoachman's wig, leatherbreeches, and topboots, on the -terrace at Windsor. -"All is well, Handel," said Herbert, "and he is quite satisfied, -though eager to see you. My dear girl is with her father and if -you'll wait till she comes down, I'll make you known to her, and -then we'll go upstairs. That's her father." -I had become aware of an alarming growling overhead, and had -probably expressed the fact in my countenance. -"I am afraid he is a sad old rascal," said Herbert, smiling, "but I -have never seen him. Don't you smell rum? He is always at it." -"At rum?" said I. -"Yes," returned Herbert, "and you may suppose how mild it makes his -gout. He persists, too, in keeping all the provisions upstairs in -his room, and serving them out. He keeps them on shelves over his -head, and will weigh them all. His room must be like a chandler's -shop." -While he thus spoke, the growling noise became a prolonged roar, -and then died away. -"What else can be the consequence," said Herbert, in explanation, -"if he will cut the cheese? A man with the gout in his right hand -and everywhere else can't expect to get through a Double -Gloucester without hurting himself." -He seemed to have hurt himself very much, for he gave another -furious roar. -"To have Provis for an upper lodger is quite a godsend to Mrs. -Whimple," said Herbert, "for of course people in general won't -stand that noise. A curious place, Handel isn't it?" -It was a curious place, indeed but remarkably well kept and clean. -"Mrs. Whimple," said Herbert, when I told him so, "is the best of -housewives, and I really do not know what my Clara would do without -her motherly help. For, Clara has no mother of her own, Handel, and -no relation in the world but old Gruffandgrim." -"Surely that's not his name, Herbert?" -"No, no," said Herbert, "that's my name for him. His name is Mr. -Barley. But what a blessing it is for the son of my father and -mother, to love a girl who has no relations, and who can never -bother herself, or anybody else, about her family" -Herbert had told me on former occasions, and now reminded me, that -he first knew Miss Clara Barley when she was completing her -education at an establishment at Hammersmith, and that on her being -recalled home to nurse her father, he and she had confided their -affection to the motherly Mrs. Whimple, by whom it had been fostered -and regulated with equal kindness and discretion, ever since. It -was understood that nothing of a tender nature could possibly be -confided to old Barley, by reason of his being totally unequal to -the consideration of any subject more psychological than Gout, Rum, -and Purser's stores. -As we were thus conversing in a low tone while Old Barley's -sustained growl vibrated in the beam that crossed the ceiling, the -room door opened, and a very pretty slight darkeyed girl of twenty -or so, came in with a basket in her hand whom Herbert tenderly -relieved of the basket, and presented blushing, as "Clara." She -really was a most charming girl, and might have passed for a -captive fairy, whom that truculent Ogre, Old Barley, had pressed -into his service. -"Look here," said Herbert, showing me the basket, with a -compassionate and tender smile after we had talked a little -"here's poor Clara's supper, served out every night. Here's her -allowance of bread, and here's her slice of cheese, and here's her -rum which I drink. This is Mr. Barley's breakfast for tomorrow, -served out to be cooked. Two mutton chops, three potatoes, some -split peas, a little flour, two ounces of butter, a pinch of salt, -and all this black pepper. It's stewed up together, and taken hot, -and it's a nice thing for the gout, I should think" -There was something so natural and winning in Clara's resigned way -of looking at these stores in detail, as Herbert pointed them out, -and something so confiding, loving, and innocent, in her modest -manner of yielding herself to Herbert's embracing arm and -something so gentle in her, so much needing protection on Mill Pond -Bank, by Chinks's Basin, and the Old Green Copper RopeWalk, with -Old Barley growling in the beam that I would not have undone the -engagement between her and Herbert, for all the money in the -pocketbook I had never opened. -I was looking at her with pleasure and admiration, when suddenly -the growl swelled into a roar again, and a frightful bumping noise -was heard above, as if a giant with a wooden leg were trying to -bore it through the ceiling to come to us. Upon this Clara said to -Herbert, "Papa wants me, darling" and ran away. -"There is an unconscionable old shark for you" said Herbert. "What -do you suppose he wants now, Handel?" -"I don't know," said I. "Something to drink?" -"That's it" cried Herbert, as if I had made a guess of -extraordinary merit. "He keeps his grog readymixed in a little tub -on the table. Wait a moment, and you'll hear Clara lift him up to -take some. There he goes" Another roar, with a prolonged shake -at the end. "Now," said Herbert, as it was succeeded by silence, -"he's drinking. Now," said Herbert, as the growl resounded in the -beam once more, "he's down again on his back" -Clara returned soon afterwards, and Herbert accompanied me -upstairs to see our charge. As we passed Mr. Barley's door, he was -heard hoarsely muttering within, in a strain that rose and fell -like wind, the following Refrain in which I substitute good wishes -for something quite the reverse. -"Ahoy Bless your eyes, here's old Bill Barley. Here's old Bill -Barley, bless your eyes. Here's old Bill Barley on the flat of his -back, by the Lord. Lying on the flat of his back, like a drifting -old dead flounder, here's your old Bill Barley, bless your eyes. -Ahoy Bless you." -In this strain of consolation, Herbert informed me the invisible -Barley would commune with himself by the day and night together -often while it was light, having, at the same time, one eye at a -telescope which was fitted on his bed for the convenience of -sweeping the river. -In his two cabin rooms at the top of the house, which were fresh -and airy, and in which Mr. Barley was less audible than below, I -found Provis comfortably settled. He expressed no alarm, and seemed -to feel none that was worth mentioning but it struck me that he -was softened indefinably, for I could not have said how, and could -never afterwards recall how when I tried but certainly. -The opportunity that the day's rest had given me for reflection, -had resulted in my fully determining to say nothing to him -respecting Compeyson. For anything I knew, his animosity towards -the man might otherwise lead to his seeking him out and rushing on -his own destruction. Therefore, when Herbert and I sat down with -him by his fire, I asked him first of all whether he relied on -Wemmick's judgment and sources of information? -"Ay, ay, dear boy" he answered, with a grave nod, "Jaggers knows." -"Then, I have talked with Wemmick," said I, "and have come to tell -you what caution he gave me and what advice." -This I did accurately, with the reservation just mentioned and I -told him how Wemmick had heard, in Newgate prison whether from -officers or prisoners I could not say, that he was under some -suspicion, and that my chambers had been watched how Wemmick had -recommended his keeping close for a time, and my keeping away from -him and what Wemmick had said about getting him abroad. I added, -that of course, when the time came, I should go with him, or should -follow close upon him, as might be safest in Wemmick's judgment. -What was to follow that, I did not touch upon neither indeed was I -at all clear or comfortable about it in my own mind, now that I saw -him in that softer condition, and in declared peril for my sake. As -to altering my way of living, by enlarging my expenses, I put it to -him whether in our present unsettled and difficult circumstances, -it would not be simply ridiculous, if it were no worse? -He could not deny this, and indeed was very reasonable throughout. -His coming back was a venture, he said, and he had always known it -to be a venture. He would do nothing to make it a desperate -venture, and he had very little fear of his safety with such good -help. -Herbert, who had been looking at the fire and pondering, here said -that something had come into his thoughts arising out of Wemmick's -suggestion, which it might be worth while to pursue. "We are both -good watermen, Handel, and could take him down the river ourselves -when the right time comes. No boat would then be hired for the -purpose, and no boatmen that would save at least a chance of -suspicion, and any chance is worth saving. Never mind the season -don't you think it might be a good thing if you began at once to -keep a boat at the Temple stairs, and were in the habit of rowing -up and down the river? You fall into that habit, and then who -notices or minds? Do it twenty or fifty times, and there is nothing -special in your doing it the twentyfirst or fiftyfirst." -I liked this scheme, and Provis was quite elated by it. We agreed -that it should be carried into execution, and that Provis should -never recognize us if we came below Bridge and rowed past Mill Pond -Bank. But, we further agreed that he should pull down the blind in -that part of his window which gave upon the east, whenever he saw -us and all was right. -Our conference being now ended, and everything arranged, I rose to -go remarking to Herbert that he and I had better not go home -together, and that I would take half an hour's start of him. "I -don't like to leave you here," I said to Provis, "though I cannot -doubt your being safer here than near me. Goodbye" -"Dear boy," he answered, clasping my hands, "I don't know when we -may meet again, and I don't like Goodbye. Say Good Night" -"Good night Herbert will go regularly between us, and when the -time comes you may be certain I shall be ready. Good night, Good -night" -We thought it best that he should stay in his own rooms, and we -left him on the landing outside his door, holding a light over the -stairrail to light us down stairs. Looking back at him, I thought -of the first night of his return when our positions were reversed, -and when I little supposed my heart could ever be as heavy and -anxious at parting from him as it was now. -Old Barley was growling and swearing when we repassed his door, -with no appearance of having ceased or of meaning to cease. When we -got to the foot of the stairs, I asked Herbert whether he had -preserved the name of Provis. He replied, certainly not, and that -the lodger was Mr. Campbell. He also explained that the utmost known -of Mr. Campbell there, was, that he Herbert had Mr. Campbell -consigned to him, and felt a strong personal interest in his being -well cared for, and living a secluded life. So, when we went into -the parlour where Mrs. Whimple and Clara were seated at work, I said -nothing of my own interest in Mr. Campbell, but kept it to myself. -When I had taken leave of the pretty gentle darkeyed girl, and of -the motherly woman who had not outlived her honest sympathy with a -little affair of true love, I felt as if the Old Green Copper -RopeWalk had grown quite a different place. Old Barley might be as -old as the hills, and might swear like a whole field of troopers, -but there were redeeming youth and trust and hope enough in -Chinks's Basin to fill it to overflowing. And then I thought of -Estella, and of our parting, and went home very sadly. -All things were as quiet in the Temple as ever I had seen them. The -windows of the rooms on that side, lately occupied by Provis, were -dark and still, and there was no lounger in Garden Court. I walked -past the fountain twice or thrice before I descended the steps that -were between me and my rooms, but I was quite alone. Herbert coming -to my bedside when he came in for I went straight to bed, -dispirited and fatigued made the same report. Opening one of the -windows after that, he looked out into the moonlight, and told me -that the pavement was a solemnly empty as the pavement of any -Cathedral at that same hour. -Next day, I set myself to get the boat. It was soon done, and the -boat was brought round to the Temple stairs, and lay where I could -reach her within a minute or two. Then, I began to go out as for -training and practice sometimes alone, sometimes with Herbert. I -was often out in cold, rain, and sleet, but nobody took much note -of me after I had been out a few times. At first, I kept above -Blackfriars Bridge but as the hours of the tide changed, I took -towards London Bridge. It was Old London Bridge in those days, and -at certain states of the tide there was a race and fall of water -there which gave it a bad reputation. But I knew well enough how to -"shoot" the bridge after seeing it done, and so began to row about -among the shipping in the Pool, and down to Erith. The first time I -passed Mill Pond Bank, Herbert and I were pulling a pair of oars -and, both in going and returning, we saw the blind towards the east -come down. Herbert was rarely there less frequently than three -times in a week, and he never brought me a single word of -intelligence that was at all alarming. Still, I knew that there was -cause for alarm, and I could not get rid of the notion of being -watched. Once received, it is a haunting idea how many undesigning -persons I suspected of watching me, it would be hard to calculate. -In short, I was always full of fears for the rash man who was in -hiding. Herbert had sometimes said to me that he found it pleasant -to stand at one of our windows after dark, when the tide was -running down, and to think that it was flowing, with everything it -bore, towards Clara. But I thought with dread that it was flowing -towards Magwitch, and that any black mark on its surface might be -his pursuers, going swiftly, silently, and surely, to take him. -Chapter -Some weeks passed without bringing any change. We waited for -Wemmick, and he made no sign. If I had never known him out of -Little Britain, and had never enjoyed the privilege of being on a -familiar footing at the Castle, I might have doubted him not so -for a moment, knowing him as I did. -My worldly affairs began to wear a gloomy appearance, and I was -pressed for money by more than one creditor. Even I myself began to -know the want of money I mean of ready money in my own pocket, -and to relieve it by converting some easily spared articles of -jewellery into cash. But I had quite determined that it would be a -heartless fraud to take more money from my patron in the existing -state of my uncertain thoughts and plans. Therefore, I had sent him -the unopened pocketbook by Herbert, to hold in his own keeping, -and I felt a kind of satisfaction whether it was a false kind or -a true, I hardly know in not having profited by his generosity -since his revelation of himself. -As the time wore on, an impression settled heavily upon me that -Estella was married. Fearful of having it confirmed, though it was -all but a conviction, I avoided the newspapers, and begged Herbert -to whom I had confided the circumstances of our last interview -never to speak of her to me. Why I hoarded up this last wretched -little rag of the robe of hope that was rent and given to the -winds, how do I know Why did you who read this, commit that not -dissimilar inconsistency of your own, last year, last month, last -week? -It was an unhappy life that I lived, and its one dominant anxiety, -towering over all its other anxieties like a high mountain above a -range of mountains, never disappeared from my view. Still, no new -cause for fear arose. Let me start from my bed as I would, with the -terror fresh upon me that he was discovered let me sit listening -as I would, with dread, for Herbert's returning step at night, lest -it should be fleeter than ordinary, and winged with evil news for -all that, and much more to like purpose, the round of things went -on. Condemned to inaction and a state of constant restlessness and -suspense, I rowed about in my boat, and waited, waited, waited, as -I best could. -There were states of the tide when, having been down the river, I -could not get back through the eddychafed arches and starlings of -old London Bridge then, I left my boat at a wharf near the Custom -House, to be brought up afterwards to the Temple stairs. I was not -averse to doing this, as it served to make me and my boat a -commoner incident among the waterside people there. From this -slight occasion, sprang two meetings that I have now to tell of. -One afternoon, late in the month of February, I came ashore at the -wharf at dusk. I had pulled down as far as Greenwich with the ebb -tide, and had turned with the tide. It had been a fine bright day, -but had become foggy as the sun dropped, and I had had to feel my -way back among the shipping, pretty carefully. Both in going and -returning, I had seen the signal in his window, All well. -As it was a raw evening and I was cold, I thought I would comfort -myself with dinner at once and as I had hours of dejection and -solitude before me if I went home to the Temple, I thought I would -afterwards go to the play. The theatre where Mr. Wopsle had achieved -his questionable triumph, was in that waterside neighbourhood it -is nowhere now, and to that theatre I resolved to go. I was aware -that Mr. Wopsle had not succeeded in reviving the Drama, but, on the -contrary, had rather partaken of its decline. He had been ominously -heard of, through the playbills, as a faithful Black, in connexion -with a little girl of noble birth, and a monkey. And Herbert had -seen him as a predatory Tartar of comic propensities, with a face -like a red brick, and an outrageous hat all over bells. -I dined at what Herbert and I used to call a Geographical -chophouse where there were maps of the world in porterpot rims -on every halfyard of the tablecloths, and charts of gravy on -every one of the knives to this day there is scarcely a single -chophouse within the Lord Mayor's dominions which is not -Geographical and wore out the time in dozing over crumbs, staring -at gas, and baking in a hot blast of dinners. Byandby, I roused -myself and went to the play. -There, I found a virtuous boatswain in his Majesty's service a -most excellent man, though I could have wished his trousers not -quite so tight in some places and not quite so loose in others -who knocked all the little men's hats over their eyes, though he -was very generous and brave, and who wouldn't hear of anybody's -paying taxes, though he was very patriotic. He had a bag of money -in his pocket, like a pudding in the cloth, and on that property -married a young person in bedfurniture, with great rejoicings the -whole population of Portsmouth nine in number at the last Census -turning out on the beach, to rub their own hands and shake -everybody else's, and sing "Fill, fill" A certain -darkcomplexioned Swab, however, who wouldn't fill, or do anything -else that was proposed to him, and whose heart was openly stated -by the boatswain to be as black as his figurehead, proposed to -two other Swabs to get all mankind into difficulties which was so -effectually done the Swab family having considerable political -influence that it took half the evening to set things right, and -then it was only brought about through an honest little grocer with -a white hat, black gaiters, and red nose, getting into a clock, -with a gridiron, and listening, and coming out, and knocking -everybody down from behind with the gridiron whom he couldn't -confute with what he had overheard. This led to Mr. Wopsle's who -had never been heard of before coming in with a star and garter -on, as a plenipotentiary of great power direct from the Admiralty, -to say that the Swabs were all to go to prison on the spot, and -that he had brought the boatswain down the Union Jack, as a slight -acknowledgment of his public services. The boatswain, unmanned for -the first time, respectfully dried his eyes on the Jack, and then -cheering up and addressing Mr. Wopsle as Your Honour, solicited -permission to take him by the fin. Mr. Wopsle conceding his fin with -a gracious dignity, was immediately shoved into a dusty corner -while everybody danced a hornpipe and from that corner, surveying -the public with a discontented eye, became aware of me. -The second piece was the last new grand comic Christmas pantomime, -in the first scene of which, it pained me to suspect that I -detected Mr. Wopsle with red worsted legs under a highly magnified -phosphoric countenance and a shock of red curtainfringe for his -hair, engaged in the manufacture of thunderbolts in a mine, and -displaying great cowardice when his gigantic master came home very -hoarse to dinner. But he presently presented himself under -worthier circumstances for, the Genius of Youthful Love being in -want of assistance on account of the parental brutality of an -ignorant farmer who opposed the choice of his daughter's heart, by -purposely falling upon the object, in a flour sack, out of the -firstfloor window summoned a sententious Enchanter and he, -coming up from the antipodes rather unsteadily, after an apparently -violent journey, proved to be Mr. Wopsle in a highcrowned hat, with -a necromantic work in one volume under his arm. The business of -this enchanter on earth, being principally to be talked at, sung -at, butted at, danced at, and flashed at with fires of various -colours, he had a good deal of time on his hands. And I observed -with great surprise, that he devoted it to staring in my direction -as if he were lost in amazement. -There was something so remarkable in the increasing glare of Mr. -Wopsle's eye, and he seemed to be turning so many things over in -his mind and to grow so confused, that I could not make it out. I -sat thinking of it, long after he had ascended to the clouds in a -large watchcase, and still I could not make it out. I was still -thinking of it when I came out of the theatre an hour afterwards, -and found him waiting for me near the door. -"How do you do?" said I, shaking hands with him as we turned down -the street together. "I saw that you saw me." -"Saw you, Mr. Pip" he returned. "Yes, of course I saw you. But who -else was there?" -"Who else?" -"It is the strangest thing," said Mr. Wopsle, drifting into his lost -look again "and yet I could swear to him." -Becoming alarmed, I entreated Mr. Wopsle to explain his meaning. -"Whether I should have noticed him at first but for your being -there," said Mr. Wopsle, going on in the same lost way, "I can't be -positive yet I think I should." -Involuntarily I looked round me, as I was accustomed to look round -me when I went home for, these mysterious words gave me a chill. -"Oh He can't be in sight," said Mr. Wopsle. "He went out, before I -went off, I saw him go." -Having the reason that I had, for being suspicious, I even -suspected this poor actor. I mistrusted a design to entrap me into -some admission. Therefore, I glanced at him as we walked on -together, but said nothing. -"I had a ridiculous fancy that he must be with you, Mr. Pip, till I -saw that you were quite unconscious of him, sitting behind you -there, like a ghost." -My former chill crept over me again, but I was resolved not to -speak yet, for it was quite consistent with his words that he might -be set on to induce me to connect these references with Provis. Of -course, I was perfectly sure and safe that Provis had not been -there. -"I dare say you wonder at me, Mr. Pip indeed I see you do. But it -is so very strange You'll hardly believe what I am going to tell -you. I could hardly believe it myself, if you told me." -"Indeed?" said I. -"No, indeed. Mr. Pip, you remember in old times a certain Christmas -Day, when you were quite a child, and I dined at Gargery's, and -some soldiers came to the door to get a pair of handcuffs mended?" -"I remember it very well." -"And you remember that there was a chase after two convicts, and -that we joined in it, and that Gargery took you on his back, and -that I took the lead and you kept up with me as well as you could?" -"I remember it all very well." Better than he thought except the -last clause. -"And you remember that we came up with the two in a ditch, and that -there was a scuffle between them, and that one of them had been -severely handled and much mauled about the face, by the other?" -"I see it all before me." -"And that the soldiers lighted torches, and put the two in the -centre, and that we went on to see the last of them, over the black -marshes, with the torchlight shining on their faces I am -particular about that with the torchlight shining on their faces, -when there was an outer ring of dark night all about us?" -"Yes," said I. "I remember all that." -"Then, Mr. Pip, one of those two prisoners sat behind you tonight. I -saw him over your shoulder." -"Steady" I thought. I asked him then, "Which of the two do you -suppose you saw?" -"The one who had been mauled," he answered readily, "and I'll swear -I saw him The more I think of him, the more certain I am of him." -"This is very curious" said I, with the best assumption I could -put on, of its being nothing more to me. "Very curious indeed" -I cannot exaggerate the enhanced disquiet into which this -conversation threw me, or the special and peculiar terror I felt at -Compeyson's having been behind me "like a ghost." For, if he had -ever been out of my thoughts for a few moments together since the -hiding had begun, it was in those very moments when he was closest -to me and to think that I should be so unconscious and off my -guard after all my care, was as if I had shut an avenue of a -hundred doors to keep him out, and then had found him at my elbow. -I could not doubt either that he was there, because I was there, -and that however slight an appearance of danger there might be -about us, danger was always near and active. -I put such questions to Mr. Wopsle as, When did the man come in? He -could not tell me that he saw me, and over my shoulder he saw the -man. It was not until he had seen him for some time that he began -to identify him but he had from the first vaguely associated him -with me, and known him as somehow belonging to me in the old -village time. How was he dressed? Prosperously, but not noticeably -otherwise he thought, in black. Was his face at all disfigured? -No, he believed not. I believed not, too, for, although in my -brooding state I had taken no especial notice of the people behind -me, I thought it likely that a face at all disfigured would have -attracted my attention. -When Mr. Wopsle had imparted to me all that he could recall or I -extract, and when I had treated him to a little appropriate -refreshment after the fatigues of the evening, we parted. It was -between twelve and one o'clock when I reached the Temple, and the -gates were shut. No one was near me when I went in and went home. -Herbert had come in, and we held a very serious council by the -fire. But there was nothing to be done, saving to communicate to -Wemmick what I had that night found out, and to remind him that we -waited for his hint. As I thought that I might compromise him if I -went too often to the Castle, I made this communication by letter. -I wrote it before I went to bed, and went out and posted it and -again no one was near me. Herbert and I agreed that we could do -nothing else but be very cautious. And we were very cautious indeed -more cautious than before, if that were possible and I for my -part never went near Chinks's Basin, except when I rowed by, and -then I only looked at Mill Pond Bank as I looked at anything else. -Chapter -The second of the two meetings referred to in the last chapter, -occurred about a week after the first. I had again left my boat at -the wharf below Bridge the time was an hour earlier in the -afternoon and, undecided where to dine, I had strolled up into -Cheapside, and was strolling along it, surely the most unsettled -person in all the busy concourse, when a large hand was laid upon -my shoulder, by some one overtaking me. It was Mr. Jaggers's hand, -and he passed it through my arm. -"As we are going in the same direction, Pip, we may walk together. -Where are you bound for?" -"For the Temple, I think," said I. -"Don't you know?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Well," I returned, glad for once to get the better of him in -crossexamination, "I do not know, for I have not made up my mind." -"You are going to dine?" said Mr. Jaggers. "You don't mind admitting -that, I suppose?" -"No," I returned, "I don't mind admitting that." -"And are not engaged?" -"I don't mind admitting also, that I am not engaged." -"Then," said Mr. Jaggers, "come and dine with me." -I was going to excuse myself, when he added, "Wemmick's coming." -So, I changed my excuse into an acceptance the few words I had -uttered, serving for the beginning of either and we went along -Cheapside and slanted off to Little Britain, while the lights were -springing up brilliantly in the shop windows, and the street -lamplighters, scarcely finding ground enough to plant their -ladders on in the midst of the afternoon's bustle, were skipping up -and down and running in and out, opening more red eyes in the -gathering fog than my rushlight tower at the Hummums had opened -white eyes in the ghostly wall. -At the office in Little Britain there was the usual letterwriting, -handwashing, candlesnuffing, and safelocking, that closed the -business of the day. As I stood idle by Mr. Jaggers's fire, its -rising and falling flame made the two casts on the shelf look as if -they were playing a diabolical game at bopeep with me while the -pair of coarse fat office candles that dimly lighted Mr. Jaggers as -he wrote in a corner, were decorated with dirty windingsheets, as -if in remembrance of a host of hanged clients. -We went to Gerrardstreet, all three together, in a hackney coach -and as soon as we got there, dinner was served. Although I should -not have thought of making, in that place, the most distant -reference by so much as a look to Wemmick's Walworth sentiments, -yet I should have had no objection to catching his eye now and then -in a friendly way. But it was not to be done. He turned his eyes on -Mr. Jaggers whenever he raised them from the table, and was as dry -and distant to me as if there were twin Wemmicks and this was the -wrong one. -"Did you send that note of Miss Havisham's to Mr. Pip, Wemmick?" Mr. -Jaggers asked, soon after we began dinner. -"No, sir," returned Wemmick "it was going by post, when you -brought Mr. Pip into the office. Here it is." He handed it to his -principal, instead of to me. -"It's a note of two lines, Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, handing it on, -"sent up to me by Miss Havisham, on account of her not being sure -of your address. She tells me that she wants to see you on a little -matter of business you mentioned to her. You'll go down?" -"Yes," said I, casting my eyes over the note, which was exactly in -those terms. -"When do you think of going down?" -"I have an impending engagement," said I, glancing at Wemmick, who -was putting fish into the postoffice, "that renders me rather -uncertain of my time. At once, I think." -"If Mr. Pip has the intention of going at once," said Wemmick to Mr. -Jaggers, "he needn't write an answer, you know." -Receiving this as an intimation that it was best not to delay, I -settled that I would go tomorrow, and said so. Wemmick drank a -glass of wine and looked with a grimly satisfied air at Mr. Jaggers, -but not at me. -"So, Pip Our friend the Spider," said Mr. Jaggers, "has played his -cards. He has won the pool." -It was as much as I could do to assent. -"Hah He is a promising fellow in his way but he may not have -it all his own way. The stronger will win in the end, but the -stronger has to be found out first. If he should turn to, and beat -her" -"Surely," I interrupted, with a burning face and heart, "you do not -seriously think that he is scoundrel enough for that, Mr. Jaggers?" -"I didn't say so, Pip. I am putting a case. If he should turn to -and beat her, he may possibly get the strength on his side if it -should be a question of intellect, he certainly will not. It would -be chance work to give an opinion how a fellow of that sort will -turn out in such circumstances, because it's a tossup between two -results." -"May I ask what they are?" -"A fellow like our friend the Spider," answered Mr. Jaggers, "either -beats, or cringes. He may cringe and growl, or cringe and not -growl but he either beats or cringes. Ask Wemmick his opinion." -"Either beats or cringes," said Wemmick, not at all addressing -himself to me. -"So, here's to Mrs. Bentley Drummle," said Mr. Jaggers, taking a -decanter of choicer wine from his dumbwaiter, and filling for each -of us and for himself, "and may the question of supremacy be -settled to the lady's satisfaction To the satisfaction of the lady -and the gentleman, it never will be. Now, Molly, Molly, Molly, -Molly, how slow you are today" -She was at his elbow when he addressed her, putting a dish upon the -table. As she withdrew her hands from it, she fell back a step or -two, nervously muttering some excuse. And a certain action of her -fingers as she spoke arrested my attention. -"What's the matter?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Nothing. Only the subject we were speaking of," said I, "was -rather painful to me." -The action of her fingers was like the action of knitting. She -stood looking at her master, not understanding whether she was free -to go, or whether he had more to say to her and would call her back -if she did go. Her look was very intent. Surely, I had seen exactly -such eyes and such hands, on a memorable occasion very lately -He dismissed her, and she glided out of the room. But she remained -before me, as plainly as if she were still there. I looked at those -hands, I looked at those eyes, I looked at that flowing hair and I -compared them with other hands, other eyes, other hair, that I knew -of, and with what those might be after twenty years of a brutal -husband and a stormy life. I looked again at those hands and eyes -of the housekeeper, and thought of the inexplicable feeling that -had come over me when I last walked not alone in the ruined -garden, and through the deserted brewery. I thought how the same -feeling had come back when I saw a face looking at me, and a hand -waving to me, from a stagecoach window and how it had come back -again and had flashed about me like Lightning, when I had passed in -a carriage not alone through a sudden glare of light in a dark -street. I thought how one link of association had helped that -identification in the theatre, and how such a link, wanting before, -had been riveted for me now, when I had passed by a chance swift -from Estella's name to the fingers with their knitting action, and -the attentive eyes. And I felt absolutely certain that this woman -was Estella's mother. -Mr. Jaggers had seen me with Estella, and was not likely to have -missed the sentiments I had been at no pains to conceal. He nodded -when I said the subject was painful to me, clapped me on the back, -put round the wine again, and went on with his dinner. -Only twice more, did the housekeeper reappear, and then her stay in -the room was very short, and Mr. Jaggers was sharp with her. But her -hands were Estella's hands, and her eyes were Estella's eyes, and -if she had reappeared a hundred times I could have been neither -more sure nor less sure that my conviction was the truth. -It was a dull evening, for Wemmick drew his wine when it came -round, quite as a matter of business just as he might have drawn -his salary when that came round and with his eyes on his chief, -sat in a state of perpetual readiness for crossexamination. As to -the quantity of wine, his postoffice was as indifferent and ready -as any other postoffice for its quantity of letters. From my point -of view, he was the wrong twin all the time, and only externally -like the Wemmick of Walworth. -We took our leave early, and left together. Even when we were -groping among Mr. Jaggers's stock of boots for our hats, I felt that -the right twin was on his way back and we had not gone half a -dozen yards down Gerrardstreet in the Walworth direction before I -found that I was walking arminarm with the right twin, and that -the wrong twin had evaporated into the evening air. -"Well" said Wemmick, "that's over He's a wonderful man, without -his living likeness but I feel that I have to screw myself up when -I dine with him and I dine more comfortably unscrewed." -I felt that this was a good statement of the case, and told him so. -"Wouldn't say it to anybody but yourself," he answered. "I know -that what is said between you and me, goes no further." -I asked him if he had ever seen Miss Havisham's adopted daughter, -Mrs. Bentley Drummle? He said no. To avoid being too abrupt, I then -spoke of the Aged, and of Miss Skiffins. He looked rather sly when -I mentioned Miss Skiffins, and stopped in the street to blow his -nose, with a roll of the head and a flourish not quite free from -latent boastfulness. -"Wemmick," said I, "do you remember telling me before I first went -to Mr. Jaggers's private house, to notice that housekeeper?" -"Did I?" he replied. "Ah, I dare say I did. Deuce take me," he -added, suddenly, "I know I did. I find I am not quite unscrewed -yet." -"A wild beast tamed, you called her." -"And what do you call her?" -"The same. How did Mr. Jaggers tame her, Wemmick?" -"That's his secret. She has been with him many a long year." -"I wish you would tell me her story. I feel a particular interest -in being acquainted with it. You know that what is said between you -and me goes no further." -"Well" Wemmick replied, "I don't know her story that is, I don't -know all of it. But what I do know, I'll tell you. We are in our -private and personal capacities, of course." -"Of course." -"A score or so of years ago, that woman was tried at the Old Bailey -for murder, and was acquitted. She was a very handsome young woman, -and I believe had some gipsy blood in her. Anyhow, it was hot enough -when it was up, as you may suppose." -"But she was acquitted." -"Mr. Jaggers was for her," pursued Wemmick, with a look full of -meaning, "and worked the case in a way quite astonishing. It was a -desperate case, and it was comparatively early days with him then, -and he worked it to general admiration in fact, it may almost be -said to have made him. He worked it himself at the policeoffice, -day after day for many days, contending against even a committal -and at the trial where he couldn't work it himself, sat under -Counsel, and every one knew put in all the salt and pepper. The -murdered person was a woman a woman, a good ten years older, very -much larger, and very much stronger. It was a case of jealousy. -They both led tramping lives, and this woman in Gerrardstreet here -had been married very young, over the broomstick as we say, to a -tramping man, and was a perfect fury in point of jealousy. The -murdered woman more a match for the man, certainly, in point of -years was found dead in a barn near Hounslow Heath. There had -been a violent struggle, perhaps a fight. She was bruised and -scratched and torn, and had been held by the throat at last and -choked. Now, there was no reasonable evidence to implicate any -person but this woman, and, on the improbabilities of her having -been able to do it, Mr. Jaggers principally rested his case. You may -be sure," said Wemmick, touching me on the sleeve, "that he never -dwelt upon the strength of her hands then, though he sometimes does -now." -I had told Wemmick of his showing us her wrists, that day of the -dinner party. -"Well, sir" Wemmick went on "it happened happened, don't you -see? that this woman was so very artfully dressed from the time -of her apprehension, that she looked much slighter than she really -was in particular, her sleeves are always remembered to have been -so skilfully contrived that her arms had quite a delicate look. She -had only a bruise or two about her nothing for a tramp but the -backs of her hands were lacerated, and the question was, was it -with fingernails? Now, Mr. Jaggers showed that she had struggled -through a great lot of brambles which were not as high as her face -but which she could not have got through and kept her hands out of -and bits of those brambles were actually found in her skin and put -in evidence, as well as the fact that the brambles in question were -found on examination to have been broken through, and to have -little shreds of her dress and little spots of blood upon them here -and there. But the boldest point he made, was this. It was -attempted to be set up in proof of her jealousy, that she was under -strong suspicion of having, at about the time of the murder, -frantically destroyed her child by this man some three years old -to revenge herself upon him. Mr. Jaggers worked that, in this way. -"We say these are not marks of fingernails, but marks of brambles, -and we show you the brambles. You say they are marks of -fingernails, and you set up the hypothesis that she destroyed her -child. You must accept all consequences of that hypothesis. For -anything we know, she may have destroyed her child, and the child -in clinging to her may have scratched her hands. What then? You are -not trying her for the murder of her child why don't you? As to -this case, if you will have scratches, we say that, for anything we -know, you may have accounted for them, assuming for the sake of -argument that you have not invented them" To sum up, sir," said -Wemmick, "Mr. Jaggers was altogether too many for the Jury, and they -gave in." -"Has she been in his service ever since?" -"Yes but not only that," said Wemmick. "She went into his service -immediately after her acquittal, tamed as she is now. She has since -been taught one thing and another in the way of her duties, but she -was tamed from the beginning." -"Do you remember the sex of the child?" -"Said to have been a girl." -"You have nothing more to say to me tonight?" -"Nothing. I got your letter and destroyed it. Nothing." -We exchanged a cordial Good Night, and I went home, with new matter -for my thoughts, though with no relief from the old. -Chapter -Putting Miss Havisham's note in my pocket, that it might serve as -my credentials for so soon reappearing at Satis House, in case her -waywardness should lead her to express any surprise at seeing me, I -went down again by the coach next day. But I alighted at the -Halfway House, and breakfasted there, and walked the rest of the -distance for, I sought to get into the town quietly by the -unfrequented ways, and to leave it in the same manner. -The best light of the day was gone when I passed along the quiet -echoing courts behind the Highstreet. The nooks of ruin where the -old monks had once had their refectories and gardens, and where the -strong walls were now pressed into the service of humble sheds and -stables, were almost as silent as the old monks in their graves. -The cathedral chimes had at once a sadder and a more remote sound -to me, as I hurried on avoiding observation, than they had ever had -before so, the swell of the old organ was borne to my ears like -funeral music and the rooks, as they hovered about the grey tower -and swung in the bare high trees of the priorygarden, seemed to -call to me that the place was changed, and that Estella was gone -out of it for ever. -An elderly woman whom I had seen before as one of the servants who -lived in the supplementary house across the back courtyard, opened -the gate. The lighted candle stood in the dark passage within, as -of old, and I took it up and ascended the staircase alone. Miss -Havisham was not in her own room, but was in the larger room across -the landing. Looking in at the door, after knocking in vain, I saw -her sitting on the hearth in a ragged chair, close before, and lost -in the contemplation of, the ashy fire. -Doing as I had often done, I went in, and stood, touching the old -chimneypiece, where she could see me when she raised her eyes. -There was an air or utter loneliness upon her, that would have -moved me to pity though she had wilfully done me a deeper injury -than I could charge her with. As I stood compassionating her, and -thinking how in the progress of time I too had come to be a part of -the wrecked fortunes of that house, her eyes rested on me. She -stared, and said in a low voice, "Is it real?" -"It is I, Pip. Mr. Jaggers gave me your note yesterday, and I have -lost no time." -"Thank you. Thank you." -As I brought another of the ragged chairs to the hearth and sat -down, I remarked a new expression on her face, as if she were -afraid of me. -"I want," she said, "to pursue that subject you mentioned to me -when you were last here, and to show you that I am not all stone. -But perhaps you can never believe, now, that there is anything -human in my heart?" -When I said some reassuring words, she stretched out her tremulous -right hand, as though she was going to touch me but she recalled -it again before I understood the action, or knew how to receive it. -"You said, speaking for your friend, that you could tell me how to -do something useful and good. Something that you would like done, -is it not?" -"Something that I would like done very much." -"What is it?" -I began explaining to her that secret history of the partnership. I -had not got far into it, when I judged from her looks that she was -thinking in a discursive way of me, rather than of what I said. It -seemed to be so, for, when I stopped speaking, many moments passed -before she showed that she was conscious of the fact. -"Do you break off," she asked then, with her former air of being -afraid of me, "because you hate me too much to bear to speak to -me?" -"No, no," I answered, "how can you think so, Miss Havisham I -stopped because I thought you were not following what I said." -"Perhaps I was not," she answered, putting a hand to her head. -"Begin again, and let me look at something else. Stay Now tell -me." -She set her hand upon her stick, in the resolute way that sometimes -was habitual to her, and looked at the fire with a strong -expression of forcing herself to attend. I went on with my -explanation, and told her how I had hoped to complete the -transaction out of my means, but how in this I was disappointed. -That part of the subject I reminded her involved matters which -could form no part of my explanation, for they were the weighty -secrets of another. -"So" said she, assenting with her head, but not looking at me. -"And how much money is wanting to complete the purchase?" -I was rather afraid of stating it, for it sounded a large sum. -"Nine hundred pounds." -"If I give you the money for this purpose, will you keep my secret -as you have kept your own?" -"Quite as faithfully." -"And your mind will be more at rest?" -"Much more at rest." -"Are you very unhappy now?" -She asked this question, still without looking at me, but in an -unwonted tone of sympathy. I could not reply at the moment, for my -voice failed me. She put her left arm across the head of her stick, -and softly laid her forehead on it. -"I am far from happy, Miss Havisham but I have other causes of -disquiet than any you know of. They are the secrets I have -mentioned." -After a little while, she raised her head and looked at the fire -again. -"It is noble in you to tell me that you have other causes of -unhappiness, Is it true?" -"Too true." -"Can I only serve you, Pip, by serving your friend? Regarding that -as done, is there nothing I can do for you yourself?" -"Nothing. I thank you for the question. I thank you even more for -the tone of the question. But, there is nothing." -She presently rose from her seat, and looked about the blighted -room for the means of writing. There were non there, and she took -from her pocket a yellow set of ivory tablets, mounted in tarnished -gold, and wrote upon them with a pencil in a case of tarnished gold -that hung from her neck. -"You are still on friendly terms with Mr. Jaggers?" -"Quite. I dined with him yesterday." -"This is an authority to him to pay you that money, to lay out at -your irresponsible discretion for your friend. I keep no money -here but if you would rather Mr. Jaggers knew nothing of the -matter, I will send it to you." -"Thank you, Miss Havisham I have not the least objection to -receiving it from him." -She read me what she had written, and it was direct and clear, and -evidently intended to absolve me from any suspicion of profiting by -the receipt of the money. I took the tablets from her hand, and it -trembled again, and it trembled more as she took off the chain to -which the pencil was attached, and put it in mine. All this she -did, without looking at me. -"My name is on the first leaf. If you can ever write under my name, -"I forgive her," though ever so long after my broken heart is dust -pray do it" -"O Miss Havisham," said I, "I can do it now. There have been sore -mistakes and my life has been a blind and thankless one and I -want forgiveness and direction far too much, to be bitter with -you." -She turned her face to me for the first time since she had averted -it, and, to my amazement, I may even add to my terror, dropped on -her knees at my feet with her folded hands raised to me in the -manner in which, when her poor heart was young and fresh and whole, -they must often have been raised to heaven from her mother's side. -To see her with her white hair and her worn face kneeling at my -feet, gave me a shock through all my frame. I entreated her to -rise, and got my arms about her to help her up but she only -pressed that hand of mine which was nearest to her grasp, and hung -her head over it and wept. I had never seen her shed a tear before, -and, in the hope that the relief might do her good, I bent over her -without speaking. She was not kneeling now, but was down upon the -ground. -"O" she cried, despairingly. "What have I done What have I done" -"If you mean, Miss Havisham, what have you done to injure me, let -me answer. Very little. I should have loved her under any -circumstances. Is she married?" -"Yes." -It was a needless question, for a new desolation in the desolate -house had told me so. -"What have I done What have I done" She wrung her hands, and -crushed her white hair, and returned to this cry over and over -again. "What have I done" -I knew not how to answer, or how to comfort her. That she had done -a grievous thing in taking an impressionable child to mould into -the form that her wild resentment, spurned affection, and wounded -pride, found vengeance in, I knew full well. But that, in shutting -out the light of day, she had shut out infinitely more that, in -seclusion, she had secluded herself from a thousand natural and -healing influences that, her mind, brooding solitary, had grown -diseased, as all minds do and must and will that reverse the -appointed order of their Maker I knew equally well. And could I -look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin -she was, in her profound unfitness for this earth on which she was -placed, in the vanity of sorrow which had become a master mania, -like the vanity of penitence, the vanity of remorse, the vanity of -unworthiness, and other monstrous vanities that have been curses in -this world? -"Until you spoke to her the other day, and until I saw in you a -lookingglass that showed me what I once felt myself, I did not -know what I had done. What have I done What have I done" And so -again, twenty, fifty times over, What had she done -"Miss Havisham," I said, when her cry had died away, "you may -dismiss me from your mind and conscience. But Estella is a -different case, and if you can ever undo any scrap of what you have -done amiss in keeping a part of her right nature away from her, it -will be better to do that, than to bemoan the past through a -hundred years." -"Yes, yes, I know it. But, Pip my Dear" There was an earnest -womanly compassion for me in her new affection. "My Dear Believe -this when she first came to me, I meant to save her from misery -like my own. At first I meant no more." -"Well, well" said I. "I hope so." -"But as she grew, and promised to be very beautiful, I gradually -did worse, and with my praises, and with my jewels, and with my -teachings, and with this figure of myself always before her a -warning to back and point my lessons, I stole her heart away and -put ice in its place." -"Better," I could not help saying, "to have left her a natural -heart, even to be bruised or broken." -With that, Miss Havisham looked distractedly at me for a while, and -then burst out again, What had she done -"If you knew all my story," she pleaded, "you would have some -compassion for me and a better understanding of me." -"Miss Havisham," I answered, as delicately as I could, "I believe I -may say that I do know your story, and have known it ever since I -first left this neighbourhood. It has inspired me with great -commiseration, and I hope I understand it and its influences. Does -what has passed between us give me any excuse for asking you a -question relative to Estella? Not as she is, but as she was when -she first came here?" -She was seated on the ground, with her arms on the ragged chair, -and her head leaning on them. She looked full at me when I said -this, and replied, "Go on." -"Whose child was Estella?" -She shook her head. -"You don't know?" -She shook her head again. -"But Mr. Jaggers brought her here, or sent her here?" -"Brought her here." -"Will you tell me how that came about?" -She answered in a low whisper and with caution "I had been shut up -in these rooms a long time I don't know how long you know what -time the clocks keep here, when I told him that I wanted a little -girl to rear and love, and save from my fate. I had first seen him -when I sent for him to lay this place waste for me having read of -him in the newspapers, before I and the world parted. He told me -that he would look about him for such an orphan child. One night he -brought her here asleep, and I called her Estella." -"Might I ask her age then?" -"Two or three. She herself knows nothing, but that she was left an -orphan and I adopted her." -So convinced I was of that woman's being her mother, that I wanted -no evidence to establish the fact in my own mind. But, to any mind, -I thought, the connection here was clear and straight. -What more could I hope to do by prolonging the interview? I had -succeeded on behalf of Herbert, Miss Havisham had told me all she -knew of Estella, I had said and done what I could to ease her mind. -No matter with what other words we parted we parted. -Twilight was closing in when I went down stairs into the natural -air. I called to the woman who had opened the gate when I entered, -that I would not trouble her just yet, but would walk round the -place before leaving. For, I had a presentiment that I should never -be there again, and I felt that the dying light was suited to my -last view of it. -By the wilderness of casks that I had walked on long ago, and on -which the rain of years had fallen since, rotting them in many -places, and leaving miniature swamps and pools of water upon those -that stood on end, I made my way to the ruined garden. I went all -round it round by the corner where Herbert and I had fought our -battle round by the paths where Estella and I had walked. So cold, -so lonely, so dreary all -Taking the brewery on my way back, I raised the rusty latch of a -little door at the garden end of it, and walked through. I was -going out at the opposite door not easy to open now, for the damp -wood had started and swelled, and the hinges were yielding, and the -threshold was encumbered with a growth of fungus when I turned my -head to look back. A childish association revived with wonderful -force in the moment of the slight action, and I fancied that I saw -Miss Havisham hanging to the beam. So strong was the impression, -that I stood under the beam shuddering from head to foot before I -knew it was a fancy though to be sure I was there in an instant. -The mournfulness of the place and time, and the great terror of -this illusion, though it was but momentary, caused me to feel an -indescribable awe as I came out between the open wooden gates where -I had once wrung my hair after Estella had wrung my heart. Passing -on into the front courtyard, I hesitated whether to call the woman -to let me out at the locked gate of which she had the key, or first -to go upstairs and assure myself that Miss Havisham was as safe -and well as I had left her. I took the latter course and went up. -I looked into the room where I had left her, and I saw her seated -in the ragged chair upon the hearth close to the fire, with her -back towards me. In the moment when I was withdrawing my head to go -quietly away, I saw a great flaming light spring up. In the same -moment, I saw her running at me, shrieking, with a whirl of fire -blazing all about her, and soaring at least as many feet above her -head as she was high. -I had a doublecaped greatcoat on, and over my arm another thick -coat. That I got them off, closed with her, threw her down, and got -them over her that I dragged the great cloth from the table for -the same purpose, and with it dragged down the heap of rottenness -in the midst, and all the ugly things that sheltered there that we -were on the ground struggling like desperate enemies, and that the -closer I covered her, the more wildly she shrieked and tried to -free herself that this occurred I knew through the result, but not -through anything I felt, or thought, or knew I did. I knew nothing -until I knew that we were on the floor by the great table, and that -patches of tinder yet alight were floating in the smoky air, which, -a moment ago, had been her faded bridal dress. -Then, I looked round and saw the disturbed beetles and spiders -running away over the floor, and the servants coming in with -breathless cries at the door. I still held her forcibly down with -all my strength, like a prisoner who might escape and I doubt if I -even knew who she was, or why we had struggled, or that she had -been in flames, or that the flames were out, until I saw the -patches of tinder that had been her garments, no longer alight but -falling in a black shower around us. -She was insensible, and I was afraid to have her moved, or even -touched. Assistance was sent for and I held her until it came, as -if I unreasonably fancied I think I did that if I let her go, the -fire would break out again and consume her. When I got up, on the -surgeon's coming to her with other aid, I was astonished to see -that both my hands were burnt for, I had no knowledge of it -through the sense of feeling. -On examination it was pronounced that she had received serious -hurts, but that they of themselves were far from hopeless the -danger lay mainly in the nervous shock. By the surgeon's -directions, her bed was carried into that room and laid upon the -great table which happened to be well suited to the dressing of -her injuries. When I saw her again, an hour afterwards, she lay -indeed where I had seen her strike her stick, and had heard her say -that she would lie one day. -Though every vestige of her dress was burnt, as they told me, she -still had something of her old ghastly bridal appearance for, they -had covered her to the throat with white cottonwool, and as she -lay with a white sheet loosely overlying that, the phantom air of -something that had been and was changed, was still upon her. -I found, on questioning the servants, that Estella was in Paris, -and I got a promise from the surgeon that he would write to her by -the next post. Miss Havisham's family I took upon myself intending -to communicate with Mr. Matthew Pocket only, and leave him to do as -he liked about informing the rest. This I did next day, through -Herbert, as soon as I returned to town. -There was a stage, that evening, when she spoke collectedly of what -had happened, though with a certain terrible vivacity. Towards -midnight she began to wander in her speech, and after that it -gradually set in that she said innumerable times in a low solemn -voice, "What have I done" And then, "When she first came, I meant -to save her from misery like mine." And then, "Take the pencil and -write under my name, 'I forgive her'" She never changed the order -of these three sentences, but she sometimes left out a word in one -or other of them never putting in another word, but always leaving -a blank and going on to the next word. -As I could do no service there, and as I had, nearer home, that -pressing reason for anxiety and fear which even her wanderings -could not drive out of my mind, I decided in the course of the -night that I would return by the early morning coach walking on a -mile or so, and being taken up clear of the town. At about six -o'clock of the morning, therefore, I leaned over her and touched -her lips with mine, just as they said, not stopping for being -touched, "Take the pencil and write under my name, 'I forgive -her.'" -Chapter -My hands had been dressed twice or thrice in the night, and again -in the morning. My left arm was a good deal burned to the elbow, -and, less severely, as high as the shoulder it was very painful, -but the flames had set in that direction, and I felt thankful it -was no worse. My right hand was not so badly burnt but that I could -move the fingers. It was bandaged, of course, but much less -inconveniently than my left hand and arm those I carried in a -sling and I could only wear my coat like a cloak, loose over my -shoulders and fastened at the neck. My hair had been caught by the -fire, but not my head or face. -When Herbert had been down to Hammersmith and seen his father, he -came back to me at our chambers, and devoted the day to attending on -me. He was the kindest of nurses, and at stated times took off the -bandages, and steeped them in the cooling liquid that was kept -ready, and put them on again, with a patient tenderness that I was -deeply grateful for. -At first, as I lay quiet on the sofa, I found it painfully -difficult, I might say impossible, to get rid of the impression of -the glare of the flames, their hurry and noise, and the fierce -burning smell. If I dozed for a minute, I was awakened by Miss -Havisham's cries, and by her running at me with all that height of -fire above her head. This pain of the mind was much harder to -strive against than any bodily pain I suffered and Herbert, seeing -that, did his utmost to hold my attention engaged. -Neither of us spoke of the boat, but we both thought of it. That -was made apparent by our avoidance of the subject, and by our -agreeing without agreement to make my recovery of the use of my -hands, a question of so many hours, not of so many weeks. -My first question when I saw Herbert had been of course, whether -all was well down the river? As he replied in the affirmative, with -perfect confidence and cheerfulness, we did not resume the subject -until the day was wearing away. But then, as Herbert changed the -bandages, more by the light of the fire than by the outer light, he -went back to it spontaneously. -"I sat with Provis last night, Handel, two good hours." -"Where was Clara?" -"Dear little thing" said Herbert. "She was up and down with -Gruffandgrim all the evening. He was perpetually pegging at the -floor, the moment she left his sight. I doubt if he can hold out -long though. What with rum and pepper and pepper and rum I -should think his pegging must be nearly over." -"And then you will be married, Herbert?" -"How can I take care of the dear child otherwise? Lay your arm -out upon the back of the sofa, my dear boy, and I'll sit down here, -and get the bandage off so gradually that you shall not know when -it comes. I was speaking of Provis. Do you know, Handel, he -improves?" -"I said to you I thought he was softened when I last saw him." -"So you did. And so he is. He was very communicative last night, -and told me more of his life. You remember his breaking off here -about some woman that he had had great trouble with. Did I hurt -you?" -I had started, but not under his touch. His words had given me a -start. -"I had forgotten that, Herbert, but I remember it now you speak of -it." -"Well He went into that part of his life, and a dark wild part it -is. Shall I tell you? Or would it worry you just now?" -"Tell me by all means. Every word." -Herbert bent forward to look at me more nearly, as if my reply had -been rather more hurried or more eager than he could quite account -for. "Your head is cool?" he said, touching it. -"Quite," said I. "Tell me what Provis said, my dear Herbert." -"It seems," said Herbert, " there's a bandage off most -charmingly, and now comes the cool one makes you shrink at first, -my poor dear fellow, don't it? but it will be comfortable presently -it seems that the woman was a young woman, and a jealous woman, -and a revengeful woman revengeful, Handel, to the last degree." -"To what last degree?" -"Murder. Does it strike too cold on that sensitive place?" -"I don't feel it. How did she murder? Whom did she murder?" "Why, -the deed may not have merited quite so terrible a name," said -Herbert, "but, she was tried for it, and Mr. Jaggers defended her, -and the reputation of that defence first made his name known to -Provis. It was another and a stronger woman who was the victim, and -there had been a struggle in a barn. Who began it, or how fair it -was, or how unfair, may be doubtful but how it ended, is certainly -not doubtful, for the victim was found throttled." -"Was the woman brought in guilty?" -"No she was acquitted. My poor Handel, I hurt you" -"It is impossible to be gentler, Herbert. Yes? What else?" -"This acquitted young woman and Provis had a little child a little -child of whom Provis was exceedingly fond. On the evening of the -very night when the object of her jealousy was strangled as I tell -you, the young woman presented herself before Provis for one -moment, and swore that she would destroy the child which was in -her possession, and he should never see it again then, she -vanished. There's the worst arm comfortably in the sling once -more, and now there remains but the right hand, which is a far -easier job. I can do it better by this light than by a stronger, -for my hand is steadiest when I don't see the poor blistered -patches too distinctly. You don't think your breathing is -affected, my dear boy? You seem to breathe quickly." -"Perhaps I do, Herbert. Did the woman keep her oath?" -"There comes the darkest part of Provis's life. She did." -"That is, he says she did." -"Why, of course, my dear boy," returned Herbert, in a tone of -surprise, and again bending forward to get a nearer look at me. "He -says it all. I have no other information." -"No, to be sure." -"Now, whether," pursued Herbert, "he had used the child's mother -ill, or whether he had used the child's mother well, Provis doesn't -say but, she had shared some four or five years of the wretched -life he described to us at this fireside, and he seems to have felt -pity for her, and forbearance towards her. Therefore, fearing he -should be called upon to depose about this destroyed child, and so -be the cause of her death, he hid himself much as he grieved for -the child, kept himself dark, as he says, out of the way and out -of the trial, and was only vaguely talked of as a certain man -called Abel, out of whom the jealousy arose. After the acquittal -she disappeared, and thus he lost the child and the child's -mother." -"I want to ask" -"A moment, my dear boy, and I have done. That evil genius, -Compeyson, the worst of scoundrels among many scoundrels, knowing -of his keeping out of the way at that time, and of his reasons for -doing so, of course afterwards held the knowledge over his head as -a means of keeping him poorer, and working him harder. It was clear -last night that this barbed the point of Provis's animosity." -"I want to know," said I, "and particularly, Herbert, whether he -told you when this happened?" -"Particularly? Let me remember, then, what he said as to that. His -expression was, 'a round score o' year ago, and a'most directly -after I took up wi' Compeyson.' How old were you when you came upon -him in the little churchyard?" -"I think in my seventh year." -"Ay. It had happened some three or four years then, he said, and -you brought into his mind the little girl so tragically lost, who -would have been about your age." -"Herbert," said I, after a short silence, in a hurried way, "can -you see me best by the light of the window, or the light of the -fire?" -"By the firelight," answered Herbert, coming close again. -"Look at me." -"I do look at you, my dear boy." -"Touch me." -"I do touch you, my dear boy." -"You are not afraid that I am in any fever, or that my head is much -disordered by the accident of last night?" -"Nno, my dear boy," said Herbert, after taking time to examine me. -"You are rather excited, but you are quite yourself." -"I know I am quite myself. And the man we have in hiding down the -river, is Estella's Father." -Chapter -What purpose I had in view when I was hot on tracing out and -proving Estella's parentage, I cannot say. It will presently be -seen that the question was not before me in a distinct shape, until -it was put before me by a wiser head than my own. -But, when Herbert and I had held our momentous conversation, I was -seized with a feverish conviction that I ought to hunt the matter -down that I ought not to let it rest, but that I ought to see Mr. -Jaggers, and come at the bare truth. I really do not know whether I -felt that I did this for Estella's sake, or whether I was glad to -transfer to the man in whose preservation I was so much concerned, -some rays of the romantic interest that had so long surrounded her. -Perhaps the latter possibility may be the nearer to the truth. -Any way, I could scarcely be withheld from going out to -Gerrardstreet that night. Herbert's representations that if I did, -I should probably be laid up and stricken useless, when our -fugitive's safety would depend upon me, alone restrained my -impatience. On the understanding, again and again reiterated, that -come what would, I was to go to Mr. Jaggers tomorrow, I at length -submitted to keep quiet, and to have my hurts looked after, and to -stay at home. Early next morning we went out together, and at the -corner of Giltspurstreet by Smithfield, I left Herbert to go his -way into the City, and took my way to Little Britain. -There were periodical occasions when Mr. Jaggers and Wemmick went -over the office accounts, and checked off the vouchers, and put all -things straight. On these occasions Wemmick took his books and -papers into Mr. Jaggers's room, and one of the upstairs clerks came -down into the outer office. Finding such clerk on Wemmick's post -that morning, I knew what was going on but, I was not sorry to -have Mr. Jaggers and Wemmick together, as Wemmick would then hear -for himself that I said nothing to compromise him. -My appearance with my arm bandaged and my coat loose over my -shoulders, favoured my object. Although I had sent Mr. Jaggers a -brief account of the accident as soon as I had arrived in town, yet -I had to give him all the details now and the speciality of the -occasion caused our talk to be less dry and hard, and less strictly -regulated by the rules of evidence, than it had been before. While -I described the disaster, Mr. Jaggers stood, according to his wont, -before the fire. Wemmick leaned back in his chair, staring at me, -with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and his pen put -horizontally into the post. The two brutal casts, always -inseparable in my mind from the official proceedings, seemed to be -congestively considering whether they didn't smell fire at the -present moment. -My narrative finished, and their questions exhausted, I then -produced Miss Havisham's authority to receive the nine hundred -pounds for Herbert. Mr. Jaggers's eyes retired a little deeper into -his head when I handed him the tablets, but he presently handed -them over to Wemmick, with instructions to draw the cheque for his -signature. While that was in course of being done, I looked on at -Wemmick as he wrote, and Mr. Jaggers, poising and swaying himself on -his wellpolished boots, looked on at me. "I am sorry, Pip," said -he, as I put the cheque in my pocket, when he had signed it, "that -we do nothing for you." -"Miss Havisham was good enough to ask me," I returned, "whether she -could do nothing for me, and I told her No." -"Everybody should know his own business," said Mr. Jaggers. And I -saw Wemmick's lips form the words "portable property." -"I should not have told her No, if I had been you," said Mr -Jaggers "but every man ought to know his own business best." -"Every man's business," said Wemmick, rather reproachfully towards -me, "is portable property." -As I thought the time was now come for pursuing the theme I had at -heart, I said, turning on Mr. Jaggers -"I did ask something of Miss Havisham, however, sir. I asked her to -give me some information relative to her adopted daughter, and she -gave me all she possessed." -"Did she?" said Mr. Jaggers, bending forward to look at his boots -and then straightening himself. "Hah I don't think I should have -done so, if I had been Miss Havisham. But she ought to know her own -business best." -"I know more of the history of Miss Havisham's adopted child, than -Miss Havisham herself does, sir. I know her mother." -Mr. Jaggers looked at me inquiringly, and repeated "Mother?" -"I have seen her mother within these three days." -"Yes?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"And so have you, sir. And you have seen her still more recently." -"Yes?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Perhaps I know more of Estella's history than even you do," said -I. "I know her father too." -A certain stop that Mr. Jaggers came to in his manner he was too -selfpossessed to change his manner, but he could not help its -being brought to an indefinably attentive stop assured me that he -did not know who her father was. This I had strongly suspected from -Provis's account as Herbert had repeated it of his having kept -himself dark which I pieced on to the fact that he himself was not -Mr. Jaggers's client until some four years later, and when he could -have no reason for claiming his identity. But, I could not be sure -of this unconsciousness on Mr. Jaggers's part before, though I was -quite sure of it now. -"So You know the young lady's father, Pip?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Yes," I replied, "and his name is Provis from New South Wales." -Even Mr. Jaggers started when I said those words. It was the -slightest start that could escape a man, the most carefully -repressed and the soonest checked, but he did start, though he made -it a part of the action of taking out his pockethandkerchief. How -Wemmick received the announcement I am unable to say, for I was -afraid to look at him just then, lest Mr. Jaggers's sharpness should -detect that there had been some communication unknown to him -between us. -"And on what evidence, Pip," asked Mr. Jaggers, very coolly, as he -paused with his handkerchief half way to his nose, "does Provis -make this claim?" -"He does not make it," said I, "and has never made it, and has no -knowledge or belief that his daughter is in existence." -For once, the powerful pockethandkerchief failed. My reply was so -unexpected that Mr. Jaggers put the handkerchief back into his -pocket without completing the usual performance, folded his arms, -and looked with stern attention at me, though with an immovable -face. -Then I told him all I knew, and how I knew it with the one -reservation that I left him to infer that I knew from Miss Havisham -what I in fact knew from Wemmick. I was very careful indeed as to -that. Nor, did I look towards Wemmick until I had finished all I -had to tell, and had been for some time silently meeting Mr. -Jaggers's look. When I did at last turn my eyes in Wemmick's -direction, I found that he had unposted his pen, and was intent -upon the table before him. -"Hah" said Mr. Jaggers at last, as he moved towards the papers on -the table, " What item was it you were at, Wemmick, when Mr. Pip -came in?" -But I could not submit to be thrown off in that way, and I made a -passionate, almost an indignant, appeal to him to be more frank and -manly with me. I reminded him of the false hopes into which I had -lapsed, the length of time they had lasted, and the discovery I had -made and I hinted at the danger that weighed upon my spirits. I -represented myself as being surely worthy of some little confidence -from him, in return for the confidence I had just now imparted. I -said that I did not blame him, or suspect him, or mistrust him, but -I wanted assurance of the truth from him. And if he asked me why I -wanted it and why I thought I had any right to it, I would tell -him, little as he cared for such poor dreams, that I had loved -Estella dearly and long, and that, although I had lost her and must -live a bereaved life, whatever concerned her was still nearer and -dearer to me than anything else in the world. And seeing that Mr. -Jaggers stood quite still and silent, and apparently quite -obdurate, under this appeal, I turned to Wemmick, and said, -"Wemmick, I know you to be a man with a gentle heart. I have seen -your pleasant home, and your old father, and all the innocent -cheerful playful ways with which you refresh your business life. -And I entreat you to say a word for me to Mr. Jaggers, and to -represent to him that, all circumstances considered, he ought to be -more open with me" -I have never seen two men look more oddly at one another than Mr. -Jaggers and Wemmick did after this apostrophe. At first, a -misgiving crossed me that Wemmick would be instantly dismissed from -his employment but, it melted as I saw Mr. Jaggers relax into -something like a smile, and Wemmick become bolder. -"What's all this?" said Mr. Jaggers. "You with an old father, and -you with pleasant and playful ways?" -"Well" returned Wemmick. "If I don't bring 'em here, what does it -matter?" -"Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, laying his hand upon my arm, and smiling -openly, "this man must be the most cunning impostor in all London." -"Not a bit of it," returned Wemmick, growing bolder and bolder. "I -think you're another." -Again they exchanged their former odd looks, each apparently still -distrustful that the other was taking him in. -"You with a pleasant home?" said Mr. Jaggers. -"Since it don't interfere with business," returned Wemmick, "let it -be so. Now, I look at you, sir, I shouldn't wonder if you might be -planning and contriving to have a pleasant home of your own, one of -these days, when you're tired of all this work." -Mr. Jaggers nodded his head retrospectively two or three times, and -actually drew a sigh. "Pip," said he, "we won't talk about 'poor -dreams' you know more about such things than I, having much -fresher experience of that kind. But now, about this other matter. -I'll put a case to you. Mind I admit nothing." -He waited for me to declare that I quite understood that he -expressly said that he admitted nothing. -"Now, Pip," said Mr. Jaggers, "put this case. Put the case that a -woman, under such circumstances as you have mentioned, held her -child concealed, and was obliged to communicate the fact to her -legal adviser, on his representing to her that he must know, with -an eye to the latitude of his defence, how the fact stood about -that child. Put the case that at the same time he held a trust to -find a child for an eccentric rich lady to adopt and bring up." -"I follow you, sir." -"Put the case that he lived in an atmosphere of evil, and that all -he saw of children, was, their being generated in great numbers for -certain destruction. Put the case that he often saw children -solemnly tried at a criminal bar, where they were held up to be -seen put the case that he habitually knew of their being -imprisoned, whipped, transported, neglected, cast out, qualified in -all ways for the hangman, and growing up to be hanged. Put the case -that pretty nigh all the children he saw in his daily business -life, he had reason to look upon as so much spawn, to develop into -the fish that were to come to his net to be prosecuted, defended, -forsworn, made orphans, bedevilled somehow." -"I follow you, sir." -"Put the case, Pip, that here was one pretty little child out of -the heap, who could be saved whom the father believed dead, and -dared make no stir about as to whom, over the mother, the legal -adviser had this power "I know what you did, and how you did it. -You came so and so, this was your manner of attack and this the -manner of resistance, you went so and so, you did such and such -things to divert suspicion. I have tracked you through it all, and -I tell it you all. Part with the child, unless it should be -necessary to produce it to clear you, and then it shall be -produced. Give the child into my hands, and I will do my best to -bring you off. If you are saved, your child is saved too if you -are lost, your child is still saved." Put the case that this was -done, and that the woman was cleared." -"I understand you perfectly." -"But that I make no admissions?" -"That you make no admissions." And Wemmick repeated, "No -admissions." -"Put the case, Pip, that passion and the terror of death had a -little shaken the woman's intellect, and that when she was set at -liberty, she was scared out of the ways of the world and went to -him to be sheltered. Put the case that he took her in, and that he -kept down the old wild violent nature whenever he saw an inkling of -its breaking out, by asserting his power over her in the old way. -Do you comprehend the imaginary case?" -"Quite." -"Put the case that the child grew up, and was married for money. -That the mother was still living. That the father was still living. -That the mother and father unknown to one another, were dwelling -within so many miles, furlongs, yards if you like, of one another. -That the secret was still a secret, except that you had got wind of -it. Put that last case to yourself very carefully." -"I do." -"I ask Wemmick to put it to himself very carefully." -And Wemmick said, "I do." -"For whose sake would you reveal the secret? For the father's? I -think he would not be much the better for the mother. For the -mother's? I think if she had done such a deed she would be safer -where she was. For the daughter's? I think it would hardly serve -her, to establish her parentage for the information of her husband, -and to drag her back to disgrace, after an escape of twenty years, -pretty secure to last for life. But, add the case that you had -loved her, Pip, and had made her the subject of those 'poor dreams' -which have, at one time or another, been in the heads of more men -than you think likely, then I tell you that you had better and -would much sooner when you had thought well of it chop off that -bandaged left hand of yours with your bandaged right hand, and then -pass the chopper on to Wemmick there, to cut that off, too." -I looked at Wemmick, whose face was very grave. He gravely touched -his lips with his forefinger. I did the same. Mr. Jaggers did the -same. "Now, Wemmick," said the latter then, resuming his usual -manner, "what item was it you were at, when Mr. Pip came in?" -Standing by for a little, while they were at work, I observed that -the odd looks they had cast at one another were repeated several -times with this difference now, that each of them seemed -suspicious, not to say conscious, of having shown himself in a weak -and unprofessional light to the other. For this reason, I suppose, -they were now inflexible with one another Mr. Jaggers being highly -dictatorial, and Wemmick obstinately justifying himself whenever -there was the smallest point in abeyance for a moment. I had never -seen them on such ill terms for generally they got on very well -indeed together. -But, they were both happily relieved by the opportune appearance of -Mike, the client with the fur cap and the habit of wiping his nose -on his sleeve, whom I had seen on the very first day of my -appearance within those walls. This individual, who, either in his -own person or in that of some member of his family, seemed to be -always in trouble which in that place meant Newgate, called to -announce that his eldest daughter was taken up on suspicion of -shoplifting. As he imparted this melancholy circumstance to -Wemmick, Mr. Jaggers standing magisterially before the fire and -taking no share in the proceedings, Mike's eye happened to twinkle -with a tear. -"What are you about?" demanded Wemmick, with the utmost -indignation. "What do you come snivelling here for?" -"I didn't go to do it, Mr. Wemmick." -"You did," said Wemmick. "How dare you? You're not in a fit state -to come here, if you can't come here without spluttering like a bad -pen. What do you mean by it?" -"A man can't help his feelings, Mr. Wemmick," pleaded Mike. -"His what?" demanded Wemmick, quite savagely. "Say that again" -"Now, look here my man," said Mr. Jaggers, advancing a step, and -pointing to the door. "Get out of this office. I'll have no -feelings here. Get out." -"It serves you right," said Wemmick, "Get out." -So the unfortunate Mike very humbly withdrew, and Mr. Jaggers and -Wemmick appeared to have reestablished their good understanding, -and went to work again with an air of refreshment upon them as if -they had just had lunch. -Chapter -From Little Britain, I went, with my cheque in my pocket, to Miss -Skiffins's brother, the accountant and Miss Skiffins's brother, -the accountant, going straight to Clarriker's and bringing -Clarriker to me, I had the great satisfaction of concluding that -arrangement. It was the only good thing I had done, and the only -completed thing I had done, since I was first apprised of my great -expectations. -Clarriker informing me on that occasion that the affairs of the -House were steadily progressing, that he would now be able to -establish a small branchhouse in the East which was much wanted -for the extension of the business, and that Herbert in his new -partnership capacity would go out and take charge of it, I found -that I must have prepared for a separation from my friend, even -though my own affairs had been more settled. And now indeed I felt -as if my last anchor were loosening its hold, and I should soon be -driving with the winds and waves. -But, there was recompense in the joy with which Herbert would come -home of a night and tell me of these changes, little imagining that -he told me no news, and would sketch airy pictures of himself -conducting Clara Barley to the land of the Arabian Nights, and of -me going out to join them with a caravan of camels, I believe, -and of our all going up the Nile and seeing wonders. Without being -sanguine as to my own part in these bright plans, I felt that -Herbert's way was clearing fast, and that old Bill Barley had but -to stick to his pepper and rum, and his daughter would soon be -happily provided for. -We had now got into the month of March. My left arm, though it -presented no bad symptoms, took in the natural course so long to -heal that I was still unable to get a coat on. My right arm was -tolerably restored disfigured, but fairly serviceable. -On a Monday morning, when Herbert and I were at breakfast, I -received the following letter from Wemmick by the post. -"Walworth. Burn this as soon as read. Early in the week, or say -Wednesday, you might do what you know of, if you felt disposed to -try it. Now burn." -When I had shown this to Herbert and had put it in the fire but -not before we had both got it by heart we considered what to do. -For, of course my being disabled could now be no longer kept out of -view. -"I have thought it over, again and again," said Herbert, "and I -think I know a better course than taking a Thames waterman. Take -Startop. A good fellow, a skilled hand, fond of us, and -enthusiastic and honourable." -I had thought of him, more than once. -"But how much would you tell him, Herbert?" -"It is necessary to tell him very little. Let him suppose it a mere -freak, but a secret one, until the morning comes then let him know -that there is urgent reason for your getting Provis aboard and -away. You go with him?" -"No doubt." -"Where?" -It had seemed to me, in the many anxious considerations I had given -the point, almost indifferent what port we made for Hamburg, -Rotterdam, Antwerp the place signified little, so that he was got -out of England. Any foreign steamer that fell in our way and would -take us up, would do. I had always proposed to myself to get him -well down the river in the boat certainly well beyond Gravesend, -which was a critical place for search or inquiry if suspicion were -afoot. As foreign steamers would leave London at about the time of -highwater, our plan would be to get down the river by a previous -ebbtide, and lie by in some quiet spot until we could pull off to -one. The time when one would be due where we lay, wherever that -might be, could be calculated pretty nearly, if we made inquiries -beforehand. -Herbert assented to all this, and we went out immediately after -breakfast to pursue our investigations. We found that a steamer for -Hamburg was likely to suit our purpose best, and we directed our -thoughts chiefly to that vessel. But we noted down what other -foreign steamers would leave London with the same tide, and we -satisfied ourselves that we knew the build and colour of each. We -then separated for a few hours I, to get at once such passports as -were necessary Herbert, to see Startop at his lodgings. We both -did what we had to do without any hindrance, and when we met again -at one o'clock reported it done. I, for my part, was prepared with -passports Herbert had seen Startop, and he was more than ready to -join. -Those two should pull a pair of oars, we settled, and I would -steer our charge would be sitter, and keep quiet as speed was not -our object, we should make way enough. We arranged that Herbert -should not come home to dinner before going to Mill Pond Bank that -evening that he should not go there at all, tomorrow evening, -Tuesday that he should prepare Provis to come down to some Stairs -hard by the house, on Wednesday, when he saw us approach, and not -sooner that all the arrangements with him should be concluded that -Monday night and that he should be communicated with no more in -any way, until we took him on board. -These precautions well understood by both of us, I went home. -On opening the outer door of our chambers with my key, I found a -letter in the box, directed to me a very dirty letter, though not -illwritten. It had been delivered by hand of course since I left -home, and its contents were these -"If you are not afraid to come to the old marshes tonight or -tomorrow night at Nine, and to come to the little sluicehouse by -the limekiln, you had better come. If you want information -regarding your uncle Provis, you had much better come and tell no -one and lose no time. You must come alone. Bring this with you." -I had had load enough upon my mind before the receipt of this -strange letter. What to do now, I could not tell. And the worst -was, that I must decide quickly, or I should miss the afternoon -coach, which would take me down in time for tonight. Tomorrow -night I could not think of going, for it would be too close upon -the time of the flight. And again, for anything I knew, the -proffered information might have some important bearing on the -flight itself. -If I had had ample time for consideration, I believe I should still -have gone. Having hardly any time for consideration my watch -showing me that the coach started within half an hour I resolved -to go. I should certainly not have gone, but for the reference to -my Uncle Provis that, coming on Wemmick's letter and the morning's -busy preparation, turned the scale. -It is so difficult to become clearly possessed of the contents of -almost any letter, in a violent hurry, that I had to read this -mysterious epistle again, twice, before its injunction to me to be -secret got mechanically into my mind. Yielding to it in the same -mechanical kind of way, I left a note in pencil for Herbert, -telling him that as I should be so soon going away, I knew not for -how long, I had decided to hurry down and back, to ascertain for -myself how Miss Havisham was faring. I had then barely time to get -my greatcoat, lock up the chambers, and make for the coachoffice -by the short byways. If I had taken a hackneychariot and gone by -the streets, I should have missed my aim going as I did, I caught -the coach just as it came out of the yard. I was the only inside -passenger, jolting away kneedeep in straw, when I came to myself. -For, I really had not been myself since the receipt of the letter -it had so bewildered me ensuing on the hurry of the morning. The -morning hurry and flutter had been great, for, long and anxiously -as I had waited for Wemmick, his hint had come like a surprise at -last. And now, I began to wonder at myself for being in the coach, -and to doubt whether I had sufficient reason for being there, and -to consider whether I should get out presently and go back, and to -argue against ever heeding an anonymous communication, and, in -short, to pass through all those phases of contradiction and -indecision to which I suppose very few hurried people are -strangers. Still, the reference to Provis by name, mastered -everything. I reasoned as I had reasoned already without knowing it -if that be reasoning in case any harm should befall him through -my not going, how could I ever forgive myself -It was dark before we got down, and the journey seemed long and -dreary to me who could see little of it inside, and who could not -go outside in my disabled state. Avoiding the Blue Boar, I put up -at an inn of minor reputation down the town, and ordered some -dinner. While it was preparing, I went to Satis House and inquired -for Miss Havisham she was still very ill, though considered -something better. -My inn had once been a part of an ancient ecclesiastical house, and -I dined in a little octagonal commonroom, like a font. As I was -not able to cut my dinner, the old landlord with a shining bald -head did it for me. This bringing us into conversation, he was so -good as to entertain me with my own story of course with the -popular feature that Pumblechook was my earliest benefactor and the -founder of my fortunes. -"Do you know the young man?" said I. -"Know him" repeated the landlord. "Ever since he was no height -at all." -"Does he ever come back to this neighbourhood?" -"Ay, he comes back," said the landlord, "to his great friends, now -and again, and gives the cold shoulder to the man that made him." -"What man is that?" -"Him that I speak of," said the landlord. "Mr. Pumblechook." -"Is he ungrateful to no one else?" -"No doubt he would be, if he could," returned the landlord, "but he -can't. And why? Because Pumblechook done everything for him." -"Does Pumblechook say so?" -"Say so" replied the landlord. "He han't no call to say so." -"But does he say so?" -"It would turn a man's blood to white wine winegar to hear him tell -of it, sir," said the landlord. -I thought, "Yet Joe, dear Joe, you never tell of it. Longsuffering -and loving Joe, you never complain. Nor you, sweettempered Biddy" -"Your appetite's been touched like, by your accident," said the -landlord, glancing at the bandaged arm under my coat. "Try a -tenderer bit." -"No thank you," I replied, turning from the table to brood over the -fire. "I can eat no more. Please take it away." -I had never been struck at so keenly, for my thanklessness to Joe, -as through the brazen impostor Pumblechook. The falser he, the -truer Joe the meaner he, the nobler Joe. -My heart was deeply and most deservedly humbled as I mused over the -fire for an hour or more. The striking of the clock aroused me, but -not from my dejection or remorse, and I got up and had my coat -fastened round my neck, and went out. I had previously sought in my -pockets for the letter, that I might refer to it again, but I could -not find it, and was uneasy to think that it must have been dropped -in the straw of the coach. I knew very well, however, that the -appointed place was the little sluicehouse by the limekiln on the -marshes, and the hour nine. Towards the marshes I now went -straight, having no time to spare. -Chapter -It was a dark night, though the full moon rose as I left the -enclosed lands, and passed out upon the marshes. Beyond their dark -line there was a ribbon of clear sky, hardly broad enough to hold -the red large moon. In a few minutes she had ascended out of that -clear field, in among the piled mountains of cloud. -There was a melancholy wind, and the marshes were very dismal. A -stranger would have found them insupportable, and even to me they -were so oppressive that I hesitated, half inclined to go back. But, -I knew them well, and could have found my way on a far darker -night, and had no excuse for returning, being there. So, having -come there against my inclination, I went on against it. -The direction that I took, was not that in which my old home lay, -nor that in which we had pursued the convicts. My back was turned -towards the distant Hulks as I walked on, and, though I could see -the old lights away on the spits of sand, I saw them over my -shoulder. I knew the limekiln as well as I knew the old Battery, -but they were miles apart so that if a light had been burning at -each point that night, there would have been a long strip of the -blank horizon between the two bright specks. -At first, I had to shut some gates after me, and now and then to -stand still while the cattle that were lying in the bankedup -pathway, arose and blundered down among the grass and reeds. But -after a little while, I seemed to have the whole flats to myself. -It was another halfhour before I drew near to the kiln. The lime -was burning with a sluggish stifling smell, but the fires were made -up and left, and no workmen were visible. Hard by, was a small -stonequarry. It lay directly in my way, and had been worked that -day, as I saw by the tools and barrows that were lying about. -Coming up again to the marsh level out of this excavation for the -rude path lay through it I saw a light in the old sluicehouse. I -quickened my pace, and knocked at the door with my hand. Waiting -for some reply, I looked about me, noticing how the sluice was -abandoned and broken, and how the house of wood with a tiled roof -would not be proof against the weather much longer, if it were so -even now, and how the mud and ooze were coated with lime, and how -the choking vapour of the kiln crept in a ghostly way towards me. -Still there was no answer, and I knocked again. No answer still, -and I tried the latch. -It rose under my hand, and the door yielded. Looking in, I saw a -lighted candle on a table, a bench, and a mattress on a truckle -bedstead. As there was a loft above, I called, "Is there any one -here?" but no voice answered. Then, I looked at my watch, and, -finding that it was past nine, called again, "Is there any one -here?" There being still no answer, I went out at the door, -irresolute what to do. -It was beginning to rain fast. Seeing nothing save what I had seen -already, I turned back into the house, and stood just within the -shelter of the doorway, looking out into the night. While I was -considering that some one must have been there lately and must soon -be coming back, or the candle would not be burning, it came into my -head to look if the wick were long. I turned round to do so, and -had taken up the candle in my hand, when it was extinguished by -some violent shock, and the next thing I comprehended, was, that I -had been caught in a strong running noose, thrown over my head from -behind. -"Now," said a suppressed voice with an oath, "I've got you" -"What is this?" I cried, struggling. "Who is it? Help, help, help" -Not only were my arms pulled close to my sides, but the pressure on -my bad arm caused me exquisite pain. Sometimes, a strong man's -hand, sometimes a strong man's breast, was set against my mouth to -deaden my cries, and with a hot breath always close to me, I -struggled ineffectually in the dark, while I was fastened tight to -the wall. "And now," said the suppressed voice with another oath, -"call out again, and I'll make short work of you" -Faint and sick with the pain of my injured arm, bewildered by the -surprise, and yet conscious how easily this threat could be put in -execution, I desisted, and tried to ease my arm were it ever so -little. But, it was bound too tight for that. I felt as if, having -been burnt before, it were now being boiled. -The sudden exclusion of the night and the substitution of black -darkness in its place, warned me that the man had closed a shutter. -After groping about for a little, he found the flint and steel he -wanted, and began to strike a light. I strained my sight upon the -sparks that fell among the tinder, and upon which he breathed and -breathed, match in hand, but I could only see his lips, and the -blue point of the match even those, but fitfully. The tinder was -damp no wonder there and one after another the sparks died out. -The man was in no hurry, and struck again with the flint and steel. -As the sparks fell thick and bright about him, I could see his -hands, and touches of his face, and could make out that he was -seated and bending over the table but nothing more. Presently I -saw his blue lips again, breathing on the tinder, and then a flare -of light flashed up, and showed me Orlick. -Whom I had looked for, I don't know. I had not looked for him. -Seeing him, I felt that I was in a dangerous strait indeed, and I -kept my eyes upon him. -He lighted the candle from the flaring match with great -deliberation, and dropped the match, and trod it out. Then, he put -the candle away from him on the table, so that he could see me, and -sat with his arms folded on the table and looked at me. I made out -that I was fastened to a stout perpendicular ladder a few inches -from the wall a fixture there the means of ascent to the loft -above. -"Now," said he, when we had surveyed one another for some time, -"I've got you." -"Unbind me. Let me go" -"Ah" he returned, "I'll let you go. I'll let you go to the moon, -I'll let you go to the stars. All in good time." -"Why have you lured me here?" -"Don't you know?" said he, with a deadly look -"Why have you set upon me in the dark?" -"Because I mean to do it all myself. One keeps a secret better than -two. Oh you enemy, you enemy" -His enjoyment of the spectacle I furnished, as he sat with his arms -folded on the table, shaking his head at me and hugging himself, -had a malignity in it that made me tremble. As I watched him in -silence, he put his hand into the corner at his side, and took up a -gun with a brassbound stock. -"Do you know this?" said he, making as if he would take aim at me. -"Do you know where you saw it afore? Speak, wolf" -"Yes," I answered. -"You cost me that place. You did. Speak" -"What else could I do?" -"You did that, and that would be enough, without more. How dared -you to come betwixt me and a young woman I liked?" -"When did I?" -"When didn't you? It was you as always give Old Orlick a bad name -to her." -"You gave it to yourself you gained it for yourself. I could have -done you no harm, if you had done yourself none." -"You're a liar. And you'll take any pains, and spend any money, to -drive me out of this country, will you?" said he, repeating my -words to Biddy in the last interview I had with her. "Now, I'll -tell you a piece of information. It was never so well worth your -while to get me out of this country as it is tonight. Ah If it -was all your money twenty times told, to the last brass farden" As -he shook his heavy hand at me, with his mouth snarling like a -tiger's, I felt that it was true. -"What are you going to do to me?" -"I'm agoing," said he, bringing his fist down upon the table with a -heavy blow, and rising as the blow fell, to give it greater force, -"I'm agoing to have your life" -He leaned forward staring at me, slowly unclenched his hand and -drew it across his mouth as if his mouth watered for me, and sat -down again. -"You was always in Old Orlick's way since ever you was a child. You -goes out of his way, this present night. He'll have no more on you. -You're dead." -I felt that I had come to the brink of my grave. For a moment I -looked wildly round my trap for any chance of escape but there was -none. -"More than that," said he, folding his arms on the table again, "I -won't have a rag of you, I won't have a bone of you, left on earth. -I'll put your body in the kiln I'd carry two such to it, on my -shoulders and, let people suppose what they may of you, they -shall never know nothing." -My mind, with inconceivable rapidity, followed out all the -consequences of such a death. Estella's father would believe I had -deserted him, would be taken, would die accusing me even Herbert -would doubt me, when he compared the letter I had left for him, -with the fact that I had called at Miss Havisham's gate for only a -moment Joe and Biddy would never know how sorry I had been that -night none would ever know what I had suffered, how true I had -meant to be, what an agony I had passed through. The death close -before me was terrible, but far more terrible than death was the -dread of being misremembered after death. And so quick were my -thoughts, that I saw myself despised by unborn generations -Estella's children, and their children while the wretch's words -were yet on his lips. -"Now, wolf," said he, "afore I kill you like any other beast -which is wot I mean to do and wot I have tied you up for I'll -have a good look at you and a good goad at you. Oh, you enemy" -It had passed through my thoughts to cry out for help again though -few could know better than I, the solitary nature of the spot, and -the hopelessness of aid. But as he sat gloating over me, I was -supported by a scornful detestation of him that sealed my lips. -Above all things, I resolved that I would not entreat him, and that -I would die making some last poor resistance to him. Softened as my -thoughts of all the rest of men were in that dire extremity humbly -beseeching pardon, as I did, of Heaven melted at heart, as I was, -by the thought that I had taken no farewell, and never never now -could take farewell, of those who were dear to me, or could explain -myself to them, or ask for their compassion on my miserable errors -still, if I could have killed him, even in dying, I would have done -it. -He had been drinking, and his eyes were red and bloodshot. Around -his neck was slung a tin bottle, as I had often seen his meat and -drink slung about him in other days. He brought the bottle to his -lips, and took a fiery drink from it and I smelt the strong -spirits that I saw flash into his face. -"Wolf" said he, folding his arms again, "Old Orlick's agoing to -tell you somethink. It was you as did for your shrew sister." -Again my mind, with its former inconceivable rapidity, had -exhausted the whole subject of the attack upon my sister, her -illness, and her death, before his slow and hesitating speech had -formed these words. -"It was you, villain," said I. -"I tell you it was your doing I tell you it was done through -you," he retorted, catching up the gun, and making a blow with the -stock at the vacant air between us. "I come upon her from behind, -as I come upon you tonight. I giv' it her I left her for dead, -and if there had been a limekiln as nigh her as there is now nigh -you, she shouldn't have come to life again. But it warn't Old -Orlick as did it it was you. You was favoured, and he was bullied -and beat. Old Orlick bullied and beat, eh? Now you pays for it. You -done it now you pays for it." -He drank again, and became more ferocious. I saw by his tilting of -the bottle that there was no great quantity left in it. I -distinctly understood that he was working himself up with its -contents, to make an end of me. I knew that every drop it held, was -a drop of my life. I knew that when I was changed into a part of -the vapour that had crept towards me but a little while before, -like my own warning ghost, he would do as he had done in my -sister's case make all haste to the town, and be seen slouching -about there, drinking at the alehouses. My rapid mind pursued him -to the town, made a picture of the street with him in it, and -contrasted its lights and life with the lonely marsh and the white -vapour creeping over it, into which I should have dissolved. -It was not only that I could have summed up years and years and -years while he said a dozen words, but that what he did say -presented pictures to me, and not mere words. In the excited and -exalted state of my brain, I could not think of a place without -seeing it, or of persons without seeing them. It is impossible to -overstate the vividness of these images, and yet I was so intent, -all the time, upon him himself who would not be intent on the -tiger crouching to spring that I knew of the slightest action of -his fingers. -When he had drunk this second time, he rose from the bench on which -he sat, and pushed the table aside. Then, he took up the candle, -and shading it with his murderous hand so as to throw its light on -me, stood before me, looking at me and enjoying the sight. -"Wolf, I'll tell you something more. It was Old Orlick as you -tumbled over on your stairs that night." -I saw the staircase with its extinguished lamps. I saw the shadows -of the heavy stairrails, thrown by the watchman's lantern on the -wall. I saw the rooms that I was never to see again here, a door -half open there, a door closed all the articles of furniture -around. -"And why was Old Orlick there? I'll tell you something more, wolf. -You and her have pretty well hunted me out of this country, so far -as getting a easy living in it goes, and I've took up with new -companions, and new masters. Some of 'em writes my letters when I -wants 'em wrote do you mind? writes my letters, wolf They -writes fifty hands they're not like sneaking you, as writes but -one. I've had a firm mind and a firm will to have your life, since -you was down here at your sister's burying. I han't seen a way to -get you safe, and I've looked arter you to know your ins and outs. -For, says Old Orlick to himself, 'Somehow or another I'll have -him' What When I looks for you, I finds your uncle Provis, eh?" -Mill Pond Bank, and Chinks's Basin, and the Old Green Copper -RopeWalk, all so clear and plain Provis in his rooms, the signal -whose use was over, pretty Clara, the good motherly woman, old Bill -Barley on his back, all drifting by, as on the swift stream of my -life fast running out to sea -"You with a uncle too Why, I know'd you at Gargery's when you was -so small a wolf that I could have took your weazen betwixt this -finger and thumb and chucked you away dead as I'd thoughts o' -doing, odd times, when I see you loitering amongst the pollards on -a Sunday, and you hadn't found no uncles then. No, not you But -when Old Orlick come for to hear that your uncle Provis had -mostlike wore the legiron wot Old Orlick had picked up, filed -asunder, on these meshes ever so many year ago, and wot he kep by -him till he dropped your sister with it, like a bullock, as he -means to drop you hey? when he come for to hear that hey?" -In his savage taunting, he flared the candle so close at me, that I -turned my face aside, to save it from the flame. -"Ah" he cried, laughing, after doing it again, "the burnt child -dreads the fire Old Orlick knowed you was burnt, Old Orlick knowed -you was smuggling your uncle Provis away, Old Orlick's a match for -you and know'd you'd come tonight Now I'll tell you something -more, wolf, and this ends it. There's them that's as good a match -for your uncle Provis as Old Orlick has been for you. Let him 'ware -them, when he's lost his nevvy Let him 'ware them, when no man -can't find a rag of his dear relation's clothes, nor yet a bone of -his body. There's them that can't and that won't have Magwitch -yes, I know the name alive in the same land with them, and -that's had such sure information of him when he was alive in -another land, as that he couldn't and shouldn't leave it unbeknown -and put them in danger. P'raps it's them that writes fifty hands, -and that's not like sneaking you as writes but one. 'Ware -Compeyson, Magwitch, and the gallows" -He flared the candle at me again, smoking my face and hair, and for -an instant blinding me, and turned his powerful back as he replaced -the light on the table. I had thought a prayer, and had been with -Joe and Biddy and Herbert, before he turned towards me again. -There was a clear space of a few feet between the table and the -opposite wall. Within this space, he now slouched backwards and -forwards. His great strength seemed to sit stronger upon him than -ever before, as he did this with his hands hanging loose and heavy -at his sides, and with his eyes scowling at me. I had no grain of -hope left. Wild as my inward hurry was, and wonderful the force of -the pictures that rushed by me instead of thoughts, I could yet -clearly understand that unless he had resolved that I was within a -few moments of surely perishing out of all human knowledge, he -would never have told me what he had told. -Of a sudden, he stopped, took the cork out of his bottle, and -tossed it away. Light as it was, I heard it fall like a plummet. He -swallowed slowly, tilting up the bottle by little and little, and -now he looked at me no more. The last few drops of liquor he poured -into the palm of his hand, and licked up. Then, with a sudden hurry -of violence and swearing horribly, he threw the bottle from him, -and stooped and I saw in his hand a stonehammer with a long heavy -handle. -The resolution I had made did not desert me, for, without uttering -one vain word of appeal to him, I shouted out with all my might, -and struggled with all my might. It was only my head and my legs -that I could move, but to that extent I struggled with all the -force, until then unknown, that was within me. In the same instant -I heard responsive shouts, saw figures and a gleam of light dash in -at the door, heard voices and tumult, and saw Orlick emerge from a -struggle of men, as if it were tumbling water, clear the table at a -leap, and fly out into the night. -After a blank, I found that I was lying unbound, on the floor, in -the same place, with my head on some one's knee. My eyes were fixed -on the ladder against the wall, when I came to myself had opened -on it before my mind saw it and thus as I recovered -consciousness, I knew that I was in the place where I had lost it. -Too indifferent at first, even to look round and ascertain who -supported me, I was lying looking at the ladder, when there came -between me and it, a face. The face of Trabb's boy -"I think he's all right" said Trabb's boy, in a sober voice "but -ain't he just pale though" -At these words, the face of him who supported me looked over into -mine, and I saw my supporter to be -"Herbert Great Heaven" -"Softly," said Herbert. "Gently, Handel. Don't be too eager." -"And our old comrade, Startop" I cried, as he too bent over me. -"Remember what he is going to assist us in," said Herbert, "and be -calm." -The allusion made me spring up though I dropped again from the -pain in my arm. "The time has not gone by, Herbert, has it? What -night is tonight? How long have I been here?" For, I had a strange -and strong misgiving that I had been lying there a long time a -day and a night two days and nights more. -"The time has not gone by. It is still Monday night." -"Thank God" -"And you have all tomorrow, Tuesday, to rest in," said Herbert. -"But you can't help groaning, my dear Handel. What hurt have you -got? Can you stand?" -"Yes, yes," said I, "I can walk. I have no hurt but in this -throbbing arm." -They laid it bare, and did what they could. It was violently -swollen and inflamed, and I could scarcely endure to have it -touched. But, they tore up their handkerchiefs to make fresh -bandages, and carefully replaced it in the sling, until we could -get to the town and obtain some cooling lotion to put upon it. In a -little while we had shut the door of the dark and empty -sluicehouse, and were passing through the quarry on our way back. -Trabb's boy Trabb's overgrown young man now went before us with -a lantern, which was the light I had seen come in at the door. But, -the moon was a good two hours higher than when I had last seen the -sky, and the night though rainy was much lighter. The white vapour -of the kiln was passing from us as we went by, and, as I had -thought a prayer before, I thought a thanksgiving now. -Entreating Herbert to tell me how he had come to my rescue which -at first he had flatly refused to do, but had insisted on my -remaining quiet I learnt that I had in my hurry dropped the -letter, open, in our chambers, where he, coming home to bring with -him Startop whom he had met in the street on his way to me, found -it, very soon after I was gone. Its tone made him uneasy, and the -more so because of the inconsistency between it and the hasty -letter I had left for him. His uneasiness increasing instead of -subsiding after a quarter of an hour's consideration, he set off -for the coachoffice, with Startop, who volunteered his company, to -make inquiry when the next coach went down. Finding that the -afternoon coach was gone, and finding that his uneasiness grew into -positive alarm, as obstacles came in his way, he resolved to follow -in a postchaise. So, he and Startop arrived at the Blue Boar, -fully expecting there to find me, or tidings of me but, finding -neither, went on to Miss Havisham's, where they lost me. Hereupon -they went back to the hotel doubtless at about the time when I was -hearing the popular local version of my own story, to refresh -themselves and to get some one to guide them out upon the marshes. -Among the loungers under the Boar's archway, happened to be Trabb's -boy true to his ancient habit of happening to be everywhere where -he had no business and Trabb's boy had seen me passing from Miss -Havisham's in the direction of my diningplace. Thus, Trabb's boy -became their guide, and with him they went out to the sluicehouse -though by the town way to the marshes, which I had avoided. Now, as -they went along, Herbert reflected, that I might, after all, have -been brought there on some genuine and serviceable errand tending -to Provis's safety, and, bethinking himself that in that case -interruption must be mischievous, left his guide and Startop on the -edge of the quarry, and went on by himself, and stole round the -house two or three times, endeavouring to ascertain whether all was -right within. As he could hear nothing but indistinct sounds of one -deep rough voice this was while my mind was so busy, he even at -last began to doubt whether I was there, when suddenly I cried out -loudly, and he answered the cries, and rushed in, closely followed -by the other two. -When I told Herbert what had passed within the house, he was for -our immediately going before a magistrate in the town, late at -night as it was, and getting out a warrant. But, I had already -considered that such a course, by detaining us there, or binding us -to come back, might be fatal to Provis. There was no gainsaying -this difficulty, and we relinquished all thoughts of pursuing -Orlick at that time. For the present, under the circumstances, we -deemed it prudent to make rather light of the matter to Trabb's -boy who I am convinced would have been much affected by -disappointment, if he had known that his intervention saved me from -the limekiln. Not that Trabb's boy was of a malignant nature, but -that he had too much spare vivacity, and that it was in his -constitution to want variety and excitement at anybody's expense. -When we parted, I presented him with two guineas which seemed to -meet his views, and told him that I was sorry ever to have had an -ill opinion of him which made no impression on him at all. -Wednesday being so close upon us, we determined to go back to -London that night, three in the postchaise the rather, as we -should then be clear away, before the night's adventure began to be -talked of. Herbert got a large bottle of stuff for my arm, and by -dint of having this stuff dropped over it all the night through, I -was just able to bear its pain on the journey. It was daylight when -we reached the Temple, and I went at once to bed, and lay in bed -all day. -My terror, as I lay there, of falling ill and being unfitted for -tomorrow, was so besetting, that I wonder it did not disable me of -itself. It would have done so, pretty surely, in conjunction with -the mental wear and tear I had suffered, but for the unnatural -strain upon me that tomorrow was. So anxiously looked forward to, -charged with such consequences, its results so impenetrably hidden -though so near. -No precaution could have been more obvious than our refraining from -communication with him that day yet this again increased my -restlessness. I started at every footstep and every sound, -believing that he was discovered and taken, and this was the -messenger to tell me so. I persuaded myself that I knew he was -taken that there was something more upon my mind than a fear or a -presentiment that the fact had occurred, and I had a mysterious -knowledge of it. As the day wore on and no ill news came, as the -day closed in and darkness fell, my overshadowing dread of being -disabled by illness before tomorrow morning, altogether mastered -me. My burning arm throbbed, and my burning head throbbed, and I -fancied I was beginning to wander. I counted up to high numbers, to -make sure of myself, and repeated passages that I knew in prose and -verse. It happened sometimes that in the mere escape of a fatigued -mind, I dozed for some moments or forgot then I would say to -myself with a start, "Now it has come, and I am turning delirious" -They kept me very quiet all day, and kept my arm constantly -dressed, and gave me cooling drinks. Whenever I fell asleep, I -awoke with the notion I had had in the sluicehouse, that a long -time had elapsed and the opportunity to save him was gone. About -midnight I got out of bed and went to Herbert, with the conviction -that I had been asleep for fourandtwenty hours, and that -Wednesday was past. It was the last selfexhausting effort of my -fretfulness, for, after that, I slept soundly. -Wednesday morning was dawning when I looked out of window. The -winking lights upon the bridges were already pale, the coming sun -was like a marsh of fire on the horizon. The river, still dark and -mysterious, was spanned by bridges that were turning coldly grey, -with here and there at top a warm touch from the burning in the -sky. As I looked along the clustered roofs, with Church towers and -spires shooting into the unusually clear air, the sun rose up, and -a veil seemed to be drawn from the river, and millions of sparkles -burst out upon its waters. From me too, a veil seemed to be drawn, -and I felt strong and well. -Herbert lay asleep in his bed, and our old fellowstudent lay -asleep on the sofa. I could not dress myself without help, but I -made up the fire, which was still burning, and got some coffee -ready for them. In good time they too started up strong and well, -and we admitted the sharp morning air at the windows, and looked at -the tide that was still flowing towards us. -"When it turns at nine o'clock," said Herbert, cheerfully, "look -out for us, and stand ready, you over there at Mill Pond Bank" -Chapter -It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind -blows cold when it is summer in the light, and winter in the -shade. We had out peacoats with us, and I took a bag. Of all my -worldly possessions I took no more than the few necessaries that -filled the bag. Where I might go, what I might do, or when I might -return, were questions utterly unknown to me nor did I vex my mind -with them, for it was wholly set on Provis's safety. I only -wondered for the passing moment, as I stopped at the door and -looked back, under what altered circumstances I should next see -those rooms, if ever. -We loitered down to the Temple stairs, and stood loitering there, -as if we were not quite decided to go upon the water at all. Of -course I had taken care that the boat should be ready and -everything in order. After a little show of indecision, which there -were none to see but the two or three amphibious creatures -belonging to our Temple stairs, we went on board and cast off -Herbert in the bow, I steering. It was then about highwater -halfpast eight. -Our plan was this. The tide, beginning to run down at nine, and -being with us until three, we intended still to creep on after it -had turned, and row against it until dark. We should then be well -in those long reaches below Gravesend, between Kent and Essex, -where the river is broad and solitary, where the waterside -inhabitants are very few, and where lone publichouses are -scattered here and there, of which we could choose one for a -restingplace. There, we meant to lie by, all night. The steamer -for Hamburg, and the steamer for Rotterdam, would start from London -at about nine on Thursday morning. We should know at what time to -expect them, according to where we were, and would hail the first -so that if by any accident we were not taken abroad, we should have -another chance. We knew the distinguishing marks of each vessel. -The relief of being at last engaged in the execution of the -purpose, was so great to me that I felt it difficult to realize the -condition in which I had been a few hours before. The crisp air, -the sunlight, the movement on the river, and the moving river -itself the road that ran with us, seeming to sympathize with us, -animate us, and encourage us on freshened me with new hope. I -felt mortified to be of so little use in the boat but, there were -few better oarsmen than my two friends, and they rowed with a -steady stroke that was to last all day. -At that time, the steamtraffic on the Thames was far below its -present extent, and watermen's boats were far more numerous. Of -barges, sailing colliers, and coasting traders, there were perhaps -as many as now but, of steamships, great and small, not a tithe -or a twentieth part so many. Early as it was, there were plenty of -scullers going here and there that morning, and plenty of barges -dropping down with the tide the navigation of the river between -bridges, in an open boat, was a much easier and commoner matter in -those days than it is in these and we went ahead among many skiffs -and wherries, briskly. -Old London Bridge was soon passed, and old Billingsgate market with -its oysterboats and Dutchmen, and the White Tower and Traitor's -Gate, and we were in among the tiers of shipping. Here, were the -Leith, Aberdeen, and Glasgow steamers, loading and unloading goods, -and looking immensely high out of the water as we passed alongside -here, were colliers by the score and score, with the coalwhippers -plunging off stages on deck, as counterweights to measures of coal -swinging up, which were then rattled over the side into barges -here, at her moorings was tomorrow's steamer for Rotterdam, of -which we took good notice and here tomorrow's for Hamburg, under -whose bowsprit we crossed. And now I, sitting in the stern, could -see with a faster beating heart, Mill Pond Bank and Mill Pond -stairs. -"Is he there?" said Herbert. -"Not yet." -"Right He was not to come down till he saw us. Can you see his -signal?" -"Not well from here but I think I see it. Now, I see him Pull -both. Easy, Herbert. Oars" -We touched the stairs lightly for a single moment, and he was on -board and we were off again. He had a boatcloak with him, and a -black canvas bag, and he looked as like a riverpilot as my heart -could have wished. "Dear boy" he said, putting his arm on my -shoulder as he took his seat. "Faithful dear boy, well done. -Thankye, thankye" -Again among the tiers of shipping, in and out, avoiding rusty -chaincables frayed hempen hawsers and bobbing buoys, sinking for -the moment floating broken baskets, scattering floating chips of -wood and shaving, cleaving floating scum of coal, in and out, under -the figurehead of the John of Sunderland making a speech to the -winds as is done by many Johns, and the Betsy of Yarmouth with a -firm formality of bosom and her nobby eyes starting two inches out -of her head, in and out, hammers going in shipbuilders'yards, saws -going at timber, clashing engines going at things unknown, pumps -going in leaky ships, capstans going, ships going out to sea, and -unintelligible seacreatures roaring curses over the bulwarks at -respondent lightermen, in and out out at last upon the clearer -river, where the ships' boys might take their fenders in, no longer -fishing in troubled waters with them over the side, and where the -festooned sails might fly out to the wind. -At the Stairs where we had taken him abroad, and ever since, I had -looked warily for any token of our being suspected. I had seen -none. We certainly had not been, and at that time as certainly we -were not, either attended or followed by any boat. If we had been -waited on by any boat, I should have run in to shore, and have -obliged her to go on, or to make her purpose evident. But, we held -our own, without any appearance of molestation. -He had his boatcloak on him, and looked, as I have said, a natural -part of the scene. It was remarkable but perhaps the wretched life -he had led, accounted for it, that he was the least anxious of any -of us. He was not indifferent, for he told me that he hoped to live -to see his gentleman one of the best of gentlemen in a foreign -country he was not disposed to be passive or resigned, as I -understood it but he had no notion of meeting danger half way. -When it came upon him, he confronted it, but it must come before he -troubled himself. -"If you knowed, dear boy," he said to me, "what it is to sit here -alonger my dear boy and have my smoke, arter having been day by day -betwixt four walls, you'd envy me. But you don't know what it is." -"I think I know the delights of freedom," I answered. -"Ah," said he, shaking his head gravely. "But you don't know it -equal to me. You must have been under lock and key, dear boy, to -know it equal to me but I ain't agoing to be low." -It occurred to me as inconsistent, that for any mastering idea, he -should have endangered his freedom and even his life. But I -reflected that perhaps freedom without danger was too much apart -from all the habit of his existence to be to him what it would be -to another man. I was not far out, since he said, after smoking a -little -"You see, dear boy, when I was over yonder, t'other side the world, -I was always alooking to this side and it come flat to be there, -for all I was agrowing rich. Everybody knowed Magwitch, and -Magwitch could come, and Magwitch could go, and nobody's head would -be troubled about him. They ain't so easy concerning me here, dear -boy wouldn't be, leastwise, if they knowed where I was." -"If all goes well," said I, "you will be perfectly free and safe -again, within a few hours." -"Well," he returned, drawing a long breath, "I hope so." -"And think so?" -He dipped his hand in the water over the boat's gunwale, and said, -smiling with that softened air upon him which was not new to me -"Ay, I s'pose I think so, dear boy. We'd be puzzled to be more -quiet and easygoing than we are at present. But it's aflowing -so soft and pleasant through the water, p'raps, as makes me think -it I was athinking through my smoke just then, that we can no -more see to the bottom of the next few hours, than we can see to -the bottom of this river what I catches hold of. Nor yet we can't -no more hold their tide than I can hold this. And it's run through -my fingers and gone, you see" holding up his dripping hand. -"But for your face, I should think you were a little despondent," -said I. -"Not a bit on it, dear boy It comes of flowing on so quiet, and of -that there rippling at the boat's head making a sort of a Sunday -tune. Maybe I'm agrowing a trifle old besides." -He put his pipe back in his mouth with an undisturbed expression of -face, and sat as composed and contented as if we were already out -of England. Yet he was as submissive to a word of advice as if he -had been in constant terror, for, when we ran ashore to get some -bottles of beer into the boat, and he was stepping out, I hinted -that I thought he would be safest where he was, and he said. "Do -you, dear boy?" and quietly sat down again. -The air felt cold upon the river, but it was a bright day, and the -sunshine was very cheering. The tide ran strong, I took care to -lose none of it, and our steady stroke carried us on thoroughly -well. By imperceptible degrees, as the tide ran out, we lost more -and more of the nearer woods and hills, and dropped lower and lower -between the muddy banks, but the tide was yet with us when we were -off Gravesend. As our charge was wrapped in his cloak, I purposely -passed within a boat or two's length of the floating Custom House, -and so out to catch the stream, alongside of two emigrant ships, -and under the bows of a large transport with troops on the -forecastle looking down at us. And soon the tide began to slacken, -and the craft lying at anchor to swing, and presently they had all -swung round, and the ships that were taking advantage of the new -tide to get up to the Pool, began to crowd upon us in a fleet, and -we kept under the shore, as much out of the strength of the tide -now as we could, standing carefully off from low shallows and -mudbanks. -Our oarsmen were so fresh, by dint of having occasionally let her -drive with the tide for a minute or two, that a quarter of an -hour's rest proved full as much as they wanted. We got ashore among -some slippery stones while we ate and drank what we had with us, -and looked about. It was like my own marsh country, flat and -monotonous, and with a dim horizon while the winding river turned -and turned, and the great floating buoys upon it turned and turned, -and everything else seemed stranded and still. For, now, the last -of the fleet of ships was round the last low point we had headed -and the last green barge, strawladen, with a brown sail, had -followed and some ballastlighters, shaped like a child's first -rude imitation of a boat, lay low in the mud and a little squat -shoallighthouse on open piles, stood crippled in the mud on stilts -and crutches and slimy stakes stuck out of the mud, and slimy -stones stuck out of the mud, and red landmarks and tidemarks stuck -out of the mud, and an old landingstage and an old roofless building -slipped into the mud, and all about us was stagnation and mud. -We pushed off again, and made what way we could. It was much harder -work now, but Herbert and Startop persevered, and rowed, and rowed, -and rowed, until the sun went down. By that time the river had -lifted us a little, so that we could see above the bank. There was -the red sun, on the low level of the shore, in a purple haze, fast -deepening into black and there was the solitary flat marsh and -far away there were the rising grounds, between which and us there -seemed to be no life, save here and there in the foreground a -melancholy gull. -As the night was fast falling, and as the moon, being past the -full, would not rise early, we held a little council a short one, -for clearly our course was to lie by at the first lonely tavern we -could find. So, they plied their oars once more, and I looked out -for anything like a house. Thus we held on, speaking little, for -four or five dull miles. It was very cold, and, a collier coming by -us, with her galleyfire smoking and flaring, looked like a -comfortable home. The night was as dark by this time as it would be -until morning and what light we had, seemed to come more from the -river than the sky, as the oars in their dipping struck at a few -reflected stars. -At this dismal time we were evidently all possessed by the idea that -we were followed. As the tide made, it flapped heavily at irregular -intervals against the shore and whenever such a sound came, one or -other of us was sure to start and look in that direction. Here and -there, the set of the current had worn down the bank into a little -creek, and we were all suspicious of such places, and eyed them -nervously. Sometimes, "What was that ripple?" one of us would say -in a low voice. Or another, "Is that a boat yonder?" And -afterwards, we would fall into a dead silence, and I would sit -impatiently thinking with what an unusual amount of noise the oars -worked in the thowels. -At length we descried a light and a roof, and presently afterwards -ran alongside a little causeway made of stones that had been picked -up hard by. Leaving the rest in the boat, I stepped ashore, and -found the light to be in a window of a publichouse. It was a dirty -place enough, and I dare say not unknown to smuggling adventurers -but there was a good fire in the kitchen, and there were eggs and -bacon to eat, and various liquors to drink. Also, there were two -doublebedded rooms "such as they were," the landlord said. No -other company was in the house than the landlord, his wife, and a -grizzled male creature, the "Jack" of the little causeway, who was -as slimy and smeary as if he had been lowwater mark too. -With this assistant, I went down to the boat again, and we all came -ashore, and brought out the oars, and rudder, and boathook, and -all else, and hauled her up for the night. We made a very good meal -by the kitchen fire, and then apportioned the bedrooms Herbert and -Startop were to occupy one I and our charge the other. We found -the air as carefully excluded from both, as if air were fatal to -life and there were more dirty clothes and bandboxes under the -beds than I should have thought the family possessed. But, we -considered ourselves well off, notwithstanding, for a more solitary -place we could not have found. -While we were comforting ourselves by the fire after our meal, the -Jack who was sitting in a corner, and who had a bloated pair of -shoes on, which he had exhibited while we were eating our eggs and -bacon, as interesting relics that he had taken a few days ago from -the feet of a drowned seaman washed ashore asked me if we had -seen a fouroared galley going up with the tide? When I told him -No, he said she must have gone down then, and yet she "took up -too," when she left there. -"They must ha' thought better on't for some reason or another," -said the Jack, "and gone down." -"A fouroared galley, did you say?" said I. -"A four," said the Jack, "and two sitters." -"Did they come ashore here?" -"They put in with a stone twogallon jar, for some beer. I'd -ha'been glad to pison the beer myself," said the Jack, "or put some -rattling physic in it." -"Why?" -"I know why," said the Jack. He spoke in a slushy voice, as if much -mud had washed into his throat. -"He thinks," said the landlord a weakly meditative man with a pale -eye, who seemed to rely greatly on his Jack "he thinks they was, -what they wasn't." -"I knows what I thinks," observed the Jack. -"You thinks Custum 'Us, Jack?" said the landlord. -"I do," said the Jack. -"Then you're wrong, Jack." -"Am I" -In the infinite meaning of his reply and his boundless confidence -in his views, the Jack took one of his bloated shoes off, looked -into it, knocked a few stones out of it on the kitchen floor, and -put it on again. He did this with the air of a Jack who was so -right that he could afford to do anything. -"Why, what do you make out that they done with their buttons then, -Jack?" asked the landlord, vacillating weakly. -"Done with their buttons?" returned the Jack. "Chucked 'em -overboard. Swallered 'em. Sowed 'em, to come up small salad. Done -with their buttons" -"Don't be cheeky, Jack," remonstrated the landlord, in a melancholy -and pathetic way. -"A Custum 'Us officer knows what to do with his Buttons," said the -Jack, repeating the obnoxious word with the greatest contempt, -"when they comes betwixt him and his own light. A Four and two -sitters don't go hanging and hovering, up with one tide and down -with another, and both with and against another, without there -being Custum 'Us at the bottom of it." Saying which he went out in -disdain and the landlord, having no one to reply upon, found it -impracticable to pursue the subject. -This dialogue made us all uneasy, and me very uneasy. The dismal -wind was muttering round the house, the tide was flapping at the -shore, and I had a feeling that we were caged and threatened. A -fouroared galley hovering about in so unusual a way as to attract -this notice, was an ugly circumstance that I could not get rid of. -When I had induced Provis to go up to bed, I went outside with my -two companions Startop by this time knew the state of the case, -and held another council. Whether we should remain at the house -until near the steamer's time, which would be about one in the -afternoon or whether we should put off early in the morning was -the question we discussed. On the whole we deemed it the better -course to lie where we were, until within an hour or so of the -steamer's time, and then to get out in her track, and drift easily -with the tide. Having settled to do this, we returned into the -house and went to bed. -I lay down with the greater part of my clothes on, and slept well -for a few hours. When I awoke, the wind had risen, and the sign of -the house the Ship was creaking and banging about, with noises -that startled me. Rising softly, for my charge lay fast asleep, I -looked out of the window. It commanded the causeway where we had -hauled up our boat, and, as my eyes adapted themselves to the light -of the clouded moon, I saw two men looking into her. They passed by -under the window, looking at nothing else, and they did not go down -to the landingplace which I could discern to be empty, but struck -across the marsh in the direction of the Nore. -My first impulse was to call up Herbert, and show him the two men -going away. But, reflecting before I got into his room, which was -at the back of the house and adjoined mine, that he and Startop had -had a harder day than I, and were fatigued, I forbore. Going back -to my window, I could see the two men moving over the marsh. In -that light, however, I soon lost them, and feeling very cold, lay -down to think of the matter, and fell asleep again. -We were up early. As we walked to and fro, all four together, -before breakfast, I deemed it right to recount what I had seen. -Again our charge was the least anxious of the party. It was very -likely that the men belonged to the Custom House, he said quietly, -and that they had no thought of us. I tried to persuade myself that -it was so as, indeed, it might easily be. However, I proposed -that he and I should walk away together to a distant point we could -see, and that the boat should take us aboard there, or as near -there as might prove feasible, at about noon. This being considered -a good precaution, soon after breakfast he and I set forth, without -saying anything at the tavern. -He smoked his pipe as we went along, and sometimes stopped to clap -me on the shoulder. One would have supposed that it was I who was -in danger, not he, and that he was reassuring me. We spoke very -little. As we approached the point, I begged him to remain in a -sheltered place, while I went on to reconnoitre for, it was -towards it that the men had passed in the night. He complied, and I -went on alone. There was no boat off the point, nor any boat drawn -up anywhere near it, nor were there any signs of the men having -embarked there. But, to be sure the tide was high, and there might -have been some footprints under water. -When he looked out from his shelter in the distance, and saw that I -waved my hat to him to come up, he rejoined me, and there we -waited sometimes lying on the bank wrapped in our coats, and -sometimes moving about to warm ourselves until we saw our boat -coming round. We got aboard easily, and rowed out into the track of -the steamer. By that time it wanted but ten minutes of one o'clock, -and we began to look out for her smoke. -But, it was halfpast one before we saw her smoke, and soon -afterwards we saw behind it the smoke of another steamer. As they -were coming on at full speed, we got the two bags ready, and took -that opportunity of saying goodbye to Herbert and Startop. We had -all shaken hands cordially, and neither Herbert's eyes nor mine -were quite dry, when I saw a fouroared galley shoot out from under -the bank but a little way ahead of us, and row out into the same -track. -A stretch of shore had been as yet between us and the steamer's -smoke, by reason of the bend and wind of the river but now she was -visible, coming head on. I called to Herbert and Startop to keep -before the tide, that she might see us lying by for her, and I -adjured Provis to sit quite still, wrapped in his cloak. He -answered cheerily, "Trust to me, dear boy," and sat like a statue. -Meantime the galley, which was very skilfully handled, had crossed -us, let us come up with her, and fallen alongside. Leaving just -room enough for the play of the oars, she kept alongside, drifting -when we drifted, and pulling a stroke or two when we pulled. Of the -two sitters one held the rudder lines, and looked at us attentively -as did all the rowers the other sitter was wrapped up, much as -Provis was, and seemed to shrink, and whisper some instruction to -the steerer as he looked at us. Not a word was spoken in either -boat. -Startop could make out, after a few minutes, which steamer was -first, and gave me the word "Hamburg," in a low voice as we sat -face to face. She was nearing us very fast, and the beating of her -peddles grew louder and louder. I felt as if her shadow were -absolutely upon us, when the galley hailed us. I answered. -"You have a returned Transport there," said the man who held the -lines. "That's the man, wrapped in the cloak. His name is Abel -Magwitch, otherwise Provis. I apprehend that man, and call upon him -to surrender, and you to assist." -At the same moment, without giving any audible direction to his -crew, he ran the galley abroad of us. They had pulled one sudden -stroke ahead, had got their oars in, had run athwart us, and were -holding on to our gunwale, before we knew what they were doing. -This caused great confusion on board the steamer, and I heard them -calling to us, and heard the order given to stop the paddles, and -heard them stop, but felt her driving down upon us irresistibly. In -the same moment, I saw the steersman of the galley lay his hand on -his prisoner's shoulder, and saw that both boats were swinging -round with the force of the tide, and saw that all hands on board -the steamer were running forward quite frantically. Still in the -same moment, I saw the prisoner start up, lean across his captor, -and pull the cloak from the neck of the shrinking sitter in the -galley. Still in the same moment, I saw that the face disclosed, -was the face of the other convict of long ago. Still in the same -moment, I saw the face tilt backward with a white terror on it that -I shall never forget, and heard a great cry on board the steamer -and a loud splash in the water, and felt the boat sink from under -me. -It was but for an instant that I seemed to struggle with a thousand -millweirs and a thousand flashes of light that instant past, I -was taken on board the galley. Herbert was there, and Startop was -there but our boat was gone, and the two convicts were gone. -What with the cries aboard the steamer, and the furious blowing off -of her steam, and her driving on, and our driving on, I could not -at first distinguish sky from water or shore from shore but, the -crew of the galley righted her with great speed, and, pulling -certain swift strong strokes ahead, lay upon their oars, every man -looking silently and eagerly at the water astern. Presently a dark -object was seen in it, bearing towards us on the tide. No man -spoke, but the steersman held up his hand, and all softly backed -water, and kept the boat straight and true before it. As it came -nearer, I saw it to be Magwitch, swimming, but not swimming freely. -He was taken on board, and instantly manacled at the wrists and -ankles. -The galley was kept steady, and the silent eager lookout at the -water was resumed. But, the Rotterdam steamer now came up, and -apparently not understanding what had happened, came on at speed. -By the time she had been hailed and stopped, both steamers were -drifting away from us, and we were rising and falling in a troubled -wake of water. The lookout was kept, long after all was still -again and the two steamers were gone but, everybody knew that it -was hopeless now. -At length we gave it up, and pulled under the shore towards the -tavern we had lately left, where we were received with no little -surprise. Here, I was able to get some comforts for Magwitch -Provis no longer who had received some very severe injury in the -chest and a deep cut in the head. -He told me that he believed himself to have gone under the keel of -the steamer, and to have been struck on the head in rising. The -injury to his chest which rendered his breathing extremely -painful he thought he had received against the side of the galley. -He added that he did not pretend to say what he might or might not -have done to Compeyson, but, that in the moment of his laying his -hand on his cloak to identify him, that villain had staggered up -and staggered back, and they had both gone overboard together when -the sudden wrenching of him Magwitch out of our boat, and the -endeavour of his captor to keep him in it, had capsized us. He told -me in a whisper that they had gone down, fiercely locked in each -other's arms, and that there had been a struggle under water, and -that he had disengaged himself, struck out, and swum away. -I never had any reason to doubt the exact truth of what he thus -told me. The officer who steered the galley gave the same account -of their going overboard. -When I asked this officer's permission to change the prisoner's wet -clothes by purchasing any spare garments I could get at the -publichouse, he gave it readily merely observing that he must -take charge of everything his prisoner had about him. So the -pocketbook which had once been in my hands, passed into the -officer's. He further gave me leave to accompany the prisoner to -London but, declined to accord that grace to my two friends. -The Jack at the Ship was instructed where the drowned man had gone -down, and undertook to search for the body in the places where it -was likeliest to come ashore. His interest in its recovery seemed -to me to be much heightened when he heard that it had stockings on. -Probably, it took about a dozen drowned men to fit him out -completely and that may have been the reason why the different -articles of his dress were in various stages of decay. -We remained at the publichouse until the tide turned, and then -Magwitch was carried down to the galley and put on board. Herbert -and Startop were to get to London by land, as soon as they could. -We had a doleful parting, and when I took my place by Magwitch's -side, I felt that that was my place henceforth while he lived. -For now, my repugnance to him had all melted away, and in the -hunted wounded shackled creature who held my hand in his, I only -saw a man who had meant to be my benefactor, and who had felt -affectionately, gratefully, and generously, towards me with great -constancy through a series of years. I only saw in him a much -better man than I had been to Joe. -His breathing became more difficult and painful as the night drew -on, and often he could not repress a groan. I tried to rest him on -the arm I could use, in any easy position but, it was dreadful to -think that I could not be sorry at heart for his being badly hurt, -since it was unquestionably best that he should die. That there -were, still living, people enough who were able and willing to -identify him, I could not doubt. That he would be leniently -treated, I could not hope. He who had been presented in the worst -light at his trial, who had since broken prison and had been tried -again, who had returned from transportation under a life sentence, -and who had occasioned the death of the man who was the cause of -his arrest. -As we returned towards the setting sun we had yesterday left behind -us, and as the stream of our hopes seemed all running back, I told -him how grieved I was to think that he had come home for my sake. -"Dear boy," he answered, "I'm quite content to take my chance. I've -seen my boy, and he can be a gentleman without me." -No. I had thought about that, while we had been there side by side. -No. Apart from any inclinations of my own, I understood Wemmick's -hint now. I foresaw that, being convicted, his possessions would be -forfeited to the Crown. -"Lookee here, dear boy," said he "It's best as a gentleman should -not be knowed to belong to me now. Only come to see me as if you -come by chance alonger Wemmick. Sit where I can see you when I am -swore to, for the last o' many times, and I don't ask no more." -"I will never stir from your side," said I, "when I am suffered to -be near you. Please God, I will be as true to you, as you have been -to me" -I felt his hand tremble as it held mine, and he turned his face -away as he lay in the bottom of the boat, and I heard that old -sound in his throat softened now, like all the rest of him. It -was a good thing that he had touched this point, for it put into my -mind what I might not otherwise have thought of until too late -That he need never know how his hopes of enriching me had perished. -Chapter -He was taken to the Police Court next day, and would have been -immediately committed for trial, but that it was necessary to send -down for an old officer of the prisonship from which he had once -escaped, to speak to his identity. Nobody doubted it but, -Compeyson, who had meant to depose to it, was tumbling on the -tides, dead, and it happened that there was not at that time any -prison officer in London who could give the required evidence. I -had gone direct to Mr. Jaggers at his private house, on my arrival -over night, to retain his assistance, and Mr. Jaggers on the -prisoner's behalf would admit nothing. It was the sole resource, -for he told me that the case must be over in five minutes when the -witness was there, and that no power on earth could prevent its -going against us. -I imparted to Mr. Jaggers my design of keeping him in ignorance of -the fate of his wealth. Mr. Jaggers was querulous and angry with me -for having "let it slip through my fingers," and said we must -memorialize byandby, and try at all events for some of it. But, -he did not conceal from me that although there might be many cases -in which the forfeiture would not be exacted, there were no -circumstances in this case to make it one of them. I understood -that, very well. I was not related to the outlaw, or connected with -him by any recognizable tie he had put his hand to no writing or -settlement in my favour before his apprehension, and to do so now -would be idle. I had no claim, and I finally resolved, and ever -afterwards abided by the resolution, that my heart should never be -sickened with the hopeless task of attempting to establish one. -There appeared to be reason for supposing that the drowned informer -had hoped for a reward out of this forfeiture, and had obtained -some accurate knowledge of Magwitch's affairs. When his body was -found, many miles from the scene of his death, and so horribly -disfigured that he was only recognizable by the contents of his -pockets, notes were still legible, folded in a case he carried. -Among these, were the name of a bankinghouse in New South Wales -where a sum of money was, and the designation of certain lands of -considerable value. Both these heads of information were in a list -that Magwitch, while in prison, gave to Mr. Jaggers, of the -possessions he supposed I should inherit. His ignorance, poor -fellow, at last served him he never mistrusted but that my -inheritance was quite safe, with Mr. Jaggers's aid. -After three days' delay, during which the crown prosecution stood -over for the production of the witness from the prisonship, the -witness came, and completed the easy case. He was committed to take -his trial at the next Sessions, which would come on in a month. -It was at this dark time of my life that Herbert returned home one -evening, a good deal cast down, and said -"My dear Handel, I fear I shall soon have to leave you." -His partner having prepared me for that, I was less surprised than -he thought. -"We shall lose a fine opportunity if I put off going to Cairo, and -I am very much afraid I must go, Handel, when you most need me." -"Herbert, I shall always need you, because I shall always love you -but my need is no greater now, than at another time." -"You will be so lonely." -"I have not leisure to think of that," said I. "You know that I am -always with him to the full extent of the time allowed, and that I -should be with him all day long, if I could. And when I come away -from him, you know that my thoughts are with him." -The dreadful condition to which he was brought, was so appalling to -both of us, that we could not refer to it in plainer words. -"My dear fellow," said Herbert, "let the near prospect of our -separation for, it is very near be my justification for -troubling you about yourself. Have you thought of your future?" -"No, for I have been afraid to think of any future." -"But yours cannot be dismissed indeed, my dear dear Handel, it -must not be dismissed. I wish you would enter on it now, as far as -a few friendly words go, with me." -"I will," said I. -"In this branch house of ours, Handel, we must have a" -I saw that his delicacy was avoiding the right word, so I said, "A -clerk." -"A clerk. And I hope it is not at all unlikely that he may expand -as a clerk of your acquaintance has expanded into a partner. Now, -Handel in short, my dear boy, will you come to me?" -There was something charmingly cordial and engaging in the manner -in which after saying "Now, Handel," as if it were the grave -beginning of a portentous business exordium, he had suddenly given -up that tone, stretched out his honest hand, and spoken like a -schoolboy. -"Clara and I have talked about it again and again," Herbert -pursued, "and the dear little thing begged me only this evening, -with tears in her eyes, to say to you that if you will live with us -when we come together, she will do her best to make you happy, and -to convince her husband's friend that he is her friend too. We -should get on so well, Handel" -I thanked her heartily, and I thanked him heartily, but said I -could not yet make sure of joining him as he so kindly offered. -Firstly, my mind was too preoccupied to be able to take in the -subject clearly. Secondly Yes Secondly, there was a vague -something lingering in my thoughts that will come out very near the -end of this slight narrative. -"But if you thought, Herbert, that you could, without doing any -injury to your business, leave the question open for a little -while" -"For any while," cried Herbert. "Six months, a year" -"Not so long as that," said I. "Two or three months at most." -Herbert was highly delighted when we shook hands on this -arrangement, and said he could now take courage to tell me that he -believed he must go away at the end of the week. -"And Clara?" said I. -"The dear little thing," returned Herbert, "holds dutifully to her -father as long as he lasts but he won't last long. Mrs. Whimple -confides to me that he is certainly going." -"Not to say an unfeeling thing," said I, "he cannot do better than -go." -"I am afraid that must be admitted," said Herbert "and then I -shall come back for the dear little thing, and the dear little -thing and I will walk quietly into the nearest church. Remember -The blessed darling comes of no family, my dear Handel, and never -looked into the red book, and hasn't a notion about her grandpapa. -What a fortune for the son of my mother" -On the Saturday in that same week, I took my leave of Herbert -full of bright hope, but sad and sorry to leave me as he sat on -one of the seaport mail coaches. I went into a coffeehouse to -write a little note to Clara, telling her he had gone off, sending -his love to her over and over again, and then went to my lonely -home if it deserved the name, for it was now no home to me, and I -had no home anywhere. -On the stairs I encountered Wemmick, who was coming down, after an -unsuccessful application of his knuckles to my door. I had not seen -him alone, since the disastrous issue of the attempted flight and -he had come, in his private and personal capacity, to say a few -words of explanation in reference to that failure. -"The late Compeyson," said Wemmick, "had by little and little got -at the bottom of half of the regular business now transacted, and -it was from the talk of some of his people in trouble some of his -people being always in trouble that I heard what I did. I kept my -ears open, seeming to have them shut, until I heard that he was -absent, and I thought that would be the best time for making the -attempt. I can only suppose now, that it was a part of his policy, -as a very clever man, habitually to deceive his own instruments. -You don't blame me, I hope, Mr. Pip? I am sure I tried to serve you, -with all my heart." -"I am as sure of that, Wemmick, as you can be, and I thank you most -earnestly for all your interest and friendship." -"Thank you, thank you very much. It's a bad job," said Wemmick, -scratching his head, "and I assure you I haven't been so cut up for -a long time. What I look at, is the sacrifice of so much portable -property. Dear me" -"What I think of, Wemmick, is the poor owner of the property." -"Yes, to be sure," said Wemmick. "Of course there can be no -objection to your being sorry for him, and I'd put down a -fivepound note myself to get him out of it. But what I look at, is -this. The late Compeyson having been beforehand with him in -intelligence of his return, and being so determined to bring him to -book, I do not think he could have been saved. Whereas, the -portable property certainly could have been saved. That's the -difference between the property and the owner, don't you see?" -I invited Wemmick to come upstairs, and refresh himself with a -glass of grog before walking to Walworth. He accepted the -invitation. While he was drinking his moderate allowance, he said, -with nothing to lead up to it, and after having appeared rather -fidgety -"What do you think of my meaning to take a holiday on Monday, Mr. -Pip?" -"Why, I suppose you have not done such a thing these twelve -months." -"These twelve years, more likely," said Wemmick. "Yes. I'm going to -take a holiday. More than that I'm going to take a walk. More than -that I'm going to ask you to take a walk with me." -I was about to excuse myself, as being but a bad companion just -then, when Wemmick anticipated me. -"I know your engagements," said he, "and I know you are out of -sorts, Mr. Pip. But if you could oblige me, I should take it as a -kindness. It ain't a long walk, and it's an early one. Say it might -occupy you including breakfast on the walk from eight to twelve. -Couldn't you stretch a point and manage it?" -He had done so much for me at various times, that this was very -little to do for him. I said I could manage it would manage it -and he was so very much pleased by my acquiescence, that I was -pleased too. At his particular request, I appointed to call for him -at the Castle at halfpast eight on Monday morning, and so we -parted for the time. -Punctual to my appointment, I rang at the Castle gate on the Monday -morning, and was received by Wemmick himself who struck me as -looking tighter than usual, and having a sleeker hat on. Within, -there were two glasses of rumandmilk prepared, and two biscuits. -The Aged must have been stirring with the lark, for, glancing into -the perspective of his bedroom, I observed that his bed was empty. -When we had fortified ourselves with the rumandmilk and biscuits, -and were going out for the walk with that training preparation on -us, I was considerably surprised to see Wemmick take up a -fishingrod, and put it over his shoulder. "Why, we are not going -fishing" said I. "No," returned Wemmick, "but I like to walk with -one." -I thought this odd however, I said nothing, and we set off. We -went towards Camberwell Green, and when we were thereabouts, -Wemmick said suddenly -"Halloa Here's a church" -There was nothing very surprising in that but a gain, I was rather -surprised, when he said, as if he were animated by a brilliant -idea -"Let's go in" -We went in, Wemmick leaving his fishingrod in the porch, and -looked all round. In the mean time, Wemmick was diving into his -coatpockets, and getting something out of paper there. -"Halloa" said he. "Here's a couple of pair of gloves Let's put -'em on" -As the gloves were white kid gloves, and as the postoffice was -widened to its utmost extent, I now began to have my strong -suspicions. They were strengthened into certainty when I beheld the -Aged enter at a side door, escorting a lady. -"Halloa" said Wemmick. "Here's Miss Skiffins Let's have a -wedding." -That discreet damsel was attired as usual, except that she was now -engaged in substituting for her green kid gloves, a pair of white. -The Aged was likewise occupied in preparing a similar sacrifice for -the altar of Hymen. The old gentleman, however, experienced so much -difficulty in getting his gloves on, that Wemmick found it -necessary to put him with his back against a pillar, and then to -get behind the pillar himself and pull away at them, while I for my -part held the old gentleman round the waist, that he might present -and equal and safe resistance. By dint of this ingenious Scheme, -his gloves were got on to perfection. -The clerk and clergyman then appearing, we were ranged in order at -those fatal rails. True to his notion of seeming to do it all -without preparation, I heard Wemmick say to himself as he took -something out of his waistcoatpocket before the service began, -"Halloa Here's a ring" -I acted in the capacity of backer, or bestman, to the bridegroom -while a little limp pew opener in a soft bonnet like a baby's, made -a feint of being the bosom friend of Miss Skiffins. The -responsibility of giving the lady away, devolved upon the Aged, -which led to the clergyman's being unintentionally scandalized, and -it happened thus. When he said, "Who giveth this woman to be -married to this man?" the old gentlemen, not in the least knowing -what point of the ceremony we had arrived at, stood most amiably -beaming at the ten commandments. Upon which, the clergyman said -again, "WHO giveth this woman to be married to this man?" The old -gentleman being still in a state of most estimable unconsciousness, -the bridegroom cried out in his accustomed voice, "Now Aged P. you -know who giveth?" To which the Aged replied with great briskness, -before saying that he gave, "All right, John, all right, my boy" -And the clergyman came to so gloomy a pause upon it, that I had -doubts for the moment whether we should get completely married that -day. -It was completely done, however, and when we were going out of -church, Wemmick took the cover off the font, and put his white -gloves in it, and put the cover on again. Mrs. Wemmick, more heedful -of the future, put her white gloves in her pocket and assumed her -green. "Now, Mr. Pip," said Wemmick, triumphantly shouldering the -fishingrod as we came out, "let me ask you whether anybody would -suppose this to be a weddingparty" -Breakfast had been ordered at a pleasant little tavern, a mile or -so away upon the rising ground beyond the Green, and there was a -bagatelle board in the room, in case we should desire to unbend our -minds after the solemnity. It was pleasant to observe that Mrs. -Wemmick no longer unwound Wemmick's arm when it adapted itself to -her figure, but sat in a highbacked chair against the wall, like a -violoncello in its case, and submitted to be embraced as that -melodious instrument might have done. -We had an excellent breakfast, and when any one declined anything -on table, Wemmick said, "Provided by contract, you know don't be -afraid of it" I drank to the new couple, drank to the Aged, drank -to the Castle, saluted the bride at parting, and made myself as -agreeable as I could. -Wemmick came down to the door with me, and I again shook hands with -him, and wished him joy. -"Thankee" said Wemmick, rubbing his hands. "She's such a manager -of fowls, you have no idea. You shall have some eggs, and judge for -yourself. I say, Mr. Pip" calling me back, and speaking low. "This -is altogether a Walworth sentiment, please." -"I understand. Not to be mentioned in Little Britain," said I. -Wemmick nodded. "After what you let out the other day, Mr. Jaggers -may as well not know of it. He might think my brain was softening, -or something of the kind." -Chapter -He lay in prison very ill, during the whole interval between his -committal for trial, and the coming round of the Sessions. He had -broken two ribs, they had wounded one of his lungs, and he breathed -with great pain and difficulty, which increased daily. It was a -consequence of his hurt, that he spoke so low as to be scarcely -audible therefore, he spoke very little. But, he was ever ready to -listen to me, and it became the first duty of my life to say to -him, and read to him, what I knew he ought to hear. -Being far too ill to remain in the common prison, he was removed, -after the first day or so, into the infirmary. This gave me -opportunities of being with him that I could not otherwise have -had. And but for his illness he would have been put in irons, for -he was regarded as a determined prisonbreaker, and I know not what -else. -Although I saw him every day, it was for only a short time hence, -the regularly recurring spaces of our separation were long enough -to record on his face any slight changes that occurred in his -physical state. I do not recollect that I once saw any change in it -for the better he wasted, and became slowly weaker and worse, day -by day, from the day when the prison door closed upon him. -The kind of submission or resignation that he showed, was that of a -man who was tired out. I sometimes derived an impression, from his -manner or from a whispered word or two which escaped him, that he -pondered over the question whether he might have been a better man -under better circumstances. But, he never justified himself by a -hint tending that way, or tried to bend the past out of its eternal -shape. -It happened on two or three occasions in my presence, that his -desperate reputation was alluded to by one or other of the people -in attendance on him. A smile crossed his face then, and he turned -his eyes on me with a trustful look, as if he were confident that I -had seen some small redeeming touch in him, even so long ago as when -I was a little child. As to all the rest, he was humble and -contrite, and I never knew him complain. -When the Sessions came round, Mr. Jaggers caused an application to -be made for the postponement of his trial until the following -Sessions. It was obviously made with the assurance that he could -not live so long, and was refused. The trial came on at once, and, -when he was put to the bar, he was seated in a chair. No objection -was made to my getting close to the dock, on the outside of it, and -holding the hand that he stretched forth to me. -The trial was very short and very clear. Such things as could be -said for him, were said how he had taken to industrious habits, -and had thriven lawfully and reputably. But, nothing could unsay -the fact that he had returned, and was there in presence of the -Judge and Jury. It was impossible to try him for that, and do -otherwise than find him guilty. -At that time, it was the custom as I learnt from my terrible -experience of that Sessions to devote a concluding day to the -passing of Sentences, and to make a finishing effect with the -Sentence of Death. But for the indelible picture that my -remembrance now holds before me, I could scarcely believe, even as -I write these words, that I saw twoandthirty men and women put -before the Judge to receive that sentence together. Foremost among -the twoandthirty, was he seated, that he might get breath enough -to keep life in him. -The whole scene starts out again in the vivid colours of the -moment, down to the drops of April rain on the windows of the -court, glittering in the rays of April sun. Penned in the dock, as -I again stood outside it at the corner with his hand in mine, were -the twoandthirty men and women some defiant, some stricken with -terror, some sobbing and weeping, some covering their faces, some -staring gloomily about. There had been shrieks from among the women -convicts, but they had been stilled, a hush had succeeded. The -sheriffs with their great chains and nosegays, other civic gewgaws -and monsters, criers, ushers, a great gallery full of people a -large theatrical audience looked on, as the twoandthirty and -the Judge were solemnly confronted. Then, the Judge addressed them. -Among the wretched creatures before him whom he must single out for -special address, was one who almost from his infancy had been an -offender against the laws who, after repeated imprisonments and -punishments, had been at length sentenced to exile for a term of -years and who, under circumstances of great violence and daring -had made his escape and been resentenced to exile for life. That -miserable man would seem for a time to have become convinced of his -errors, when far removed from the scenes of his old offences, and -to have lived a peaceable and honest life. But in a fatal moment, -yielding to those propensities and passions, the indulgence of -which had so long rendered him a scourge to society, he had quitted -his haven of rest and repentance, and had come back to the country -where he was proscribed. Being here presently denounced, he had for -a time succeeded in evading the officers of Justice, but being at -length seized while in the act of flight, he had resisted them, and -had he best knew whether by express design, or in the blindness -of his hardihood caused the death of his denouncer, to whom his -whole career was known. The appointed punishment for his return to -the land that had cast him out, being Death, and his case being -this aggravated case, he must prepare himself to Die. -The sun was striking in at the great windows of the court, through -the glittering drops of rain upon the glass, and it made a broad -shaft of light between the twoandthirty and the Judge, linking -both together, and perhaps reminding some among the audience, how -both were passing on, with absolute equality, to the greater -Judgment that knoweth all things and cannot err. Rising for a -moment, a distinct speck of face in this way of light, the prisoner -said, "My Lord, I have received my sentence of Death from the -Almighty, but I bow to yours," and sat down again. There was some -hushing, and the Judge went on with what he had to say to the rest. -Then, they were all formally doomed, and some of them were -supported out, and some of them sauntered out with a haggard look -of bravery, and a few nodded to the gallery, and two or three shook -hands, and others went out chewing the fragments of herb they had -taken from the sweet herbs lying about. He went last of all, -because of having to be helped from his chair and to go very -slowly and he held my hand while all the others were removed, and -while the audience got up putting their dresses right, as they -might at church or elsewhere and pointed down at this criminal or -at that, and most of all at him and me. -I earnestly hoped and prayed that he might die before the -Recorder's Report was made, but, in the dread of his lingering on, -I began that night to write out a petition to the Home Secretary of -State, setting forth my knowledge of him, and how it was that he -had come back for my sake. I wrote it as fervently and pathetically -as I could, and when I had finished it and sent it in, I wrote out -other petitions to such men in authority as I hoped were the most -merciful, and drew up one to the Crown itself. For several days and -nights after he was sentenced I took no rest except when I fell -asleep in my chair, but was wholly absorbed in these appeals. And -after I had sent them in, I could not keep away from the places -where they were, but felt as if they were more hopeful and less -desperate when I was near them. In this unreasonable restlessness -and pain of mind, I would roam the streets of an evening, wandering -by those offices and houses where I had left the petitions. To the -present hour, the weary western streets of London on a cold dusty -spring night, with their ranges of stern shutup mansions and their -long rows of lamps, are melancholy to me from this association. -The daily visits I could make him were shortened now, and he was -more strictly kept. Seeing, or fancying, that I was suspected of an -intention of carrying poison to him, I asked to be searched before -I sat down at his bedside, and told the officer who was always -there, that I was willing to do anything that would assure him of -the singleness of my designs. Nobody was hard with him, or with me. -There was duty to be done, and it was done, but not harshly. The -officer always gave me the assurance that he was worse, and some -other sick prisoners in the room, and some other prisoners who -attended on them as sick nurses malefactors, but not incapable of -kindness, God be thanked, always joined in the same report. -As the days went on, I noticed more and more that he would lie -placidly looking at the white ceiling, with an absence of light in -his face, until some word of mine brightened it for an instant, and -then it would subside again. Sometimes he was almost, or quite, -unable to speak then, he would answer me with slight pressures on -my hand, and I grew to understand his meaning very well. -The number of the days had risen to ten, when I saw a greater -change in him than I had seen yet. His eyes were turned towards the -door, and lighted up as I entered. -"Dear boy," he said, as I sat down by his bed "I thought you was -late. But I knowed you couldn't be that." -"It is just the time," said I. "I waited for it at the gate." -"You always waits at the gate don't you, dear boy?" -"Yes. Not to lose a moment of the time." -"Thank'ee dear boy, thank'ee. God bless you You've never deserted -me, dear boy." -I pressed his hand in silence, for I could not forget that I had -once meant to desert him. -"And what's the best of all," he said, "you've been more -comfortable alonger me, since I was under a dark cloud, than when -the sun shone. That's best of all." -He lay on his back, breathing with great difficulty. Do what he -would, and love me though he did, the light left his face ever and -again, and a film came over the placid look at the white ceiling. -"Are you in much pain today?" -"I don't complain of none, dear boy." -"You never do complain." -He had spoken his last words. He smiled, and I understood his touch -to mean that he wished to lift my hand, and lay it on his breast. I -laid it there, and he smiled again, and put both his hands upon it. -The allotted time ran out, while we were thus but, looking round, -I found the governor of the prison standing near me, and he -whispered, "You needn't go yet." I thanked him gratefully, and -asked, "Might I speak to him, if he can hear me?" -The governor stepped aside, and beckoned the officer away. The -change, though it was made without noise, drew back the film from -the placid look at the white ceiling, and he looked most -affectionately at me. -"Dear Magwitch, I must tell you, now at last. You understand what I -say?" -A gentle pressure on my hand. -"You had a child once, whom you loved and lost." -A stronger pressure on my hand. -"She lived and found powerful friends. She is living now. She is a -lady and very beautiful. And I love her" -With a last faint effort, which would have been powerless but for -my yielding to it and assisting it, he raised my hand to his lips. -Then, he gently let it sink upon his breast again, with his own -hands lying on it. The placid look at the white ceiling came back, -and passed away, and his head dropped quietly on his breast. -Mindful, then, of what we had read together, I thought of the two -men who went up into the Temple to pray, and I knew there were no -better words that I could say beside his bed, than "O Lord, be -merciful to him, a sinner" -Chapter -Now that I was left wholly to myself, I gave notice of my intention -to quit the chambers in the Temple as soon as my tenancy could -legally determine, and in the meanwhile to underlet them. At once I -put bills up in the windows for, I was in debt, and had scarcely -any money, and began to be seriously alarmed by the state of my -affairs. I ought rather to write that I should have been alarmed if -I had had energy and concentration enough to help me to the clear -perception of any truth beyond the fact that I was falling very -ill. The late stress upon me had enabled me to put off illness, but -not to put it away I knew that it was coming on me now, and I knew -very little else, and was even careless as to that. -For a day or two, I lay on the sofa, or on the floor anywhere, -according as I happened to sink down with a heavy head and aching -limbs, and no purpose, and no power. Then there came one night -which appeared of great duration, and which teemed with anxiety and -horror and when in the morning I tried to sit up in my bed and -think of it, I found I could not do so. -Whether I really had been down in Garden Court in the dead of the -night, groping about for the boat that I supposed to be there -whether I had two or three times come to myself on the staircase -with great terror, not knowing how I had got out of bed whether I -had found myself lighting the lamp, possessed by the idea that he -was coming up the stairs, and that the lights were blown out -whether I had been inexpressibly harassed by the distracted -talking, laughing, and groaning, of some one, and had half -suspected those sounds to be of my own making whether there had -been a closed iron furnace in a dark corner of the room, and a -voice had called out over and over again that Miss Havisham was -consuming within it these were things that I tried to settle with -myself and get into some order, as I lay that morning on my bed. -But, the vapour of a limekiln would come between me and them, -disordering them all, and it was through the vapour at last that I -saw two men looking at me. -"What do you want?" I asked, starting "I don't know you." -"Well, sir," returned one of them, bending down and touching me on -the shoulder, "this is a matter that you'll soon arrange, I dare -say, but you're arrested." -"What is the debt?" -"Hundred and twentythree pound, fifteen, six. Jeweller's account, -I think." -"What is to be done?" -"You had better come to my house," said the man. "I keep a very -nice house." -I made some attempt to get up and dress myself. When I next -attended to them, they were standing a little off from the bed, -looking at me. I still lay there. -"You see my state," said I. "I would come with you if I could but -indeed I am quite unable. If you take me from here, I think I shall -die by the way." -Perhaps they replied, or argued the point, or tried to encourage me -to believe that I was better than I thought. Forasmuch as they hang -in my memory by only this one slender thread, I don't know what -they did, except that they forbore to remove me. -That I had a fever and was avoided, that I suffered greatly, that I -often lost my reason, that the time seemed interminable, that I -confounded impossible existences with my own identity that I was a -brick in the house wall, and yet entreating to be released from the -giddy place where the builders had set me that I was a steel beam -of a vast engine, clashing and whirling over a gulf, and yet that I -implored in my own person to have the engine stopped, and my part -in it hammered off that I passed through these phases of disease, -I know of my own remembrance, and did in some sort know at the -time. That I sometimes struggled with real people, in the belief -that they were murderers, and that I would all at once comprehend -that they meant to do me good, and would then sink exhausted in -their arms, and suffer them to lay me down, I also knew at the -time. But, above all, I knew that there was a constant tendency in -all these people who, when I was very ill, would present all -kinds of extraordinary transformations of the human face, and would -be much dilated in size above all, I say, I knew that there was -an extraordinary tendency in all these people, sooner or later to -settle down into the likeness of Joe. -After I had turned the worst point of my illness, I began to notice -that while all its other features changed, this one consistent -feature did not change. Whoever came about me, still settled down -into Joe. I opened my eyes in the night, and I saw in the great -chair at the bedside, Joe. I opened my eyes in the day, and, -sitting on the windowseat, smoking his pipe in the shaded open -window, still I saw Joe. I asked for cooling drink, and the dear -hand that gave it me was Joe's. I sank back on my pillow after -drinking, and the face that looked so hopefully and tenderly upon -me was the face of Joe. -At last, one day, I took courage, and said, "Is it Joe?" -And the dear old homevoice answered, "Which it air, old chap." -"O Joe, you break my heart Look angry at me, Joe. Strike me, Joe. -Tell me of my ingratitude. Don't be so good to me" -For, Joe had actually laid his head down on the pillow at my side -and put his arm round my neck, in his joy that I knew him. -"Which dear old Pip, old chap," said Joe, "you and me was ever -friends. And when you're well enough to go out for a ride what -larks" -After which, Joe withdrew to the window, and stood with his back -towards me, wiping his eyes. And as my extreme weakness prevented -me from getting up and going to him, I lay there, penitently -whispering, "O God bless him O God bless this gentle Christian -man" -Joe's eyes were red when I next found him beside me but, I was -holding his hand, and we both felt happy. -"How long, dear Joe?" -"Which you meantersay, Pip, how long have your illness lasted, dear -old chap?" -"Yes, Joe." -"It's the end of May, Pip. Tomorrow is the first of June." -"And have you been here all that time, dear Joe?" -"Pretty nigh, old chap. For, as I says to Biddy when the news of -your being ill were brought by letter, which it were brought by the -post and being formerly single he is now married though underpaid -for a deal of walking and shoeleather, but wealth were not a -object on his part, and marriage were the great wish of his hart" -"It is so delightful to hear you, Joe But I interrupt you in what -you said to Biddy." -"Which it were," said Joe, "that how you might be amongst -strangers, and that how you and me having been ever friends, a -wisit at such a moment might not prove unacceptabobble. And Biddy, -her word were, 'Go to him, without loss of time.' That," said Joe, -summing up with his judicial air, "were the word of Biddy. 'Go to -him,' Biddy say, 'without loss of time.' In short, I shouldn't -greatly deceive you," Joe added, after a little grave reflection, -"if I represented to you that the word of that young woman were, -'without a minute's loss of time.'" -There Joe cut himself short, and informed me that I was to be -talked to in great moderation, and that I was to take a little -nourishment at stated frequent times, whether I felt inclined for -it or not, and that I was to submit myself to all his orders. So, I -kissed his hand, and lay quiet, while he proceeded to indite a note -to Biddy, with my love in it. -Evidently, Biddy had taught Joe to write. As I lay in bed looking -at him, it made me, in my weak state, cry again with pleasure to -see the pride with which he set about his letter. My bedstead, -divested of its curtains, had been removed, with me upon it, into -the sittingroom, as the airiest and largest, and the carpet had -been taken away, and the room kept always fresh and wholesome night -and day. At my own writingtable, pushed into a corner and cumbered -with little bottles, Joe now sat down to his great work, first -choosing a pen from the pentray as if it were a chest of large -tools, and tucking up his sleeves as if he were going to wield a -crowbar or sledgehammer. It was necessary for Joe to hold on -heavily to the table with his left elbow, and to get his right leg -well out behind him, before he could begin, and when he did begin, -he made every downstroke so slowly that it might have been six -feet long, while at every upstroke I could hear his pen -spluttering extensively. He had a curious idea that the inkstand -was on the side of him where it was not, and constantly dipped his -pen into space, and seemed quite satisfied with the result. -Occasionally, he was tripped up by some orthographical -stumblingblock, but on the whole he got on very well indeed, and -when he had signed his name, and had removed a finishing blot from -the paper to the crown of his head with his two forefingers, he got -up and hovered about the table, trying the effect of his -performance from various points of view as it lay there, with -unbounded satisfaction. -Not to make Joe uneasy by talking too much, even if I had been able -to talk much, I deferred asking him about Miss Havisham until next -day. He shook his head when I then asked him if she had recovered. -"Is she dead, Joe?" -"Why you see, old chap," said Joe, in a tone of remonstrance, and -by way of getting at it by degrees, "I wouldn't go so far as to say -that, for that's a deal to say but she ain't" -"Living, Joe?" -"That's nigher where it is," said Joe "she ain't living." -"Did she linger long, Joe?" -"Arter you was took ill, pretty much about what you might call if -you was put to it a week," said Joe still determined, on my -account, to come at everything by degrees. -"Dear Joe, have you heard what becomes of her property?" -"Well, old chap," said Joe, "it do appear that she had settled the -most of it, which I meantersay tied it up, on Miss Estella. But she -had wrote out a little coddleshell in her own hand a day or two -afore the accident, leaving a cool four thousand to Mr. Matthew -Pocket. And why, do you suppose, above all things, Pip, she left -that cool four thousand unto him? 'Because of Pip's account of him -the said Matthew.' I am told by Biddy, that air the writing," said -Joe, repeating the legal turn as if it did him infinite good, -"'account of him the said Matthew.' And a cool four thousand, Pip" -I never discovered from whom Joe derived the conventional -temperature of the four thousand pounds, but it appeared to make -the sum of money more to him, and he had a manifest relish in -insisting on its being cool. -This account gave me great joy, as it perfected the only good thing -I had done. I asked Joe whether he had heard if any of the other -relations had any legacies? -"Miss Sarah," said Joe, "she have twentyfive pound perannium fur -to buy pills, on account of being bilious. Miss Georgiana, she have -twenty pound down. Mrs. what's the name of them wild beasts with -humps, old chap?" -"Camels?" said I, wondering why he could possibly want to know. -Joe nodded. "Mrs. Camels," by which I presently understood he meant -Camilla, "she have five pound fur to buy rushlights to put her in -spirits when she wake up in the night." -The accuracy of these recitals was sufficiently obvious to me, to -give me great confidence in Joe's information. "And now," said Joe, -"you ain't that strong yet, old chap, that you can take in more nor -one additional shovelfull today. Old Orlick he's been a -bustin' open a dwellingouse." -"Whose?" said I. -"Not, I grant, you, but what his manners is given to blusterous," -said Joe, apologetically "still, a Englishman's ouse is his -Castle, and castles must not be busted 'cept when done in war time. -And wotsume'er the failings on his part, he were a corn and -seedsman in his hart." -"Is it Pumblechook's house that has been broken into, then?" -"That's it, Pip," said Joe "and they took his till, and they took -his cashbox, and they drinked his wine, and they partook of his -wittles, and they slapped his face, and they pulled his nose, and -they tied him up to his bedpust, and they giv' him a dozen, and -they stuffed his mouth full of flowering annuals to prewent his -crying out. But he knowed Orlick, and Orlick's in the county -jail." -By these approaches we arrived at unrestricted conversation. I was -slow to gain strength, but I did slowly and surely become less -weak, and Joe stayed with me, and I fancied I was little Pip again. -For, the tenderness of Joe was so beautifully proportioned to my -need, that I was like a child in his hands. He would sit and talk -to me in the old confidence, and with the old simplicity, and in -the old unassertive protecting way, so that I would half believe -that all my life since the days of the old kitchen was one of the -mental troubles of the fever that was gone. He did everything for -me except the household work, for which he had engaged a very -decent woman, after paying off the laundress on his first arrival. -"Which I do assure you, Pip," he would often say, in explanation of -that liberty "I found her a tapping the spare bed, like a cask of -beer, and drawing off the feathers in a bucket, for sale. Which she -would have tapped yourn next, and draw'd it off with you a laying -on it, and was then a carrying away the coals gradiwally in the -souptureen and wegetabledishes, and the wine and spirits in your -Wellington boots." -We looked forward to the day when I should go out for a ride, as we -had once looked forward to the day of my apprenticeship. And when -the day came, and an open carriage was got into the Lane, Joe -wrapped me up, took me in his arms, carried me down to it, and put -me in, as if I were still the small helpless creature to whom he -had so abundantly given of the wealth of his great nature. -And Joe got in beside me, and we drove away together into the -country, where the rich summer growth was already on the trees and -on the grass, and sweet summer scents filled all the air. The day -happened to be Sunday, and when I looked on the loveliness around -me, and thought how it had grown and changed, and how the little -wild flowers had been forming, and the voices of the birds had been -strengthening, by day and by night, under the sun and under the -stars, while poor I lay burning and tossing on my bed, the mere -remembrance of having burned and tossed there, came like a check -upon my peace. But, when I heard the Sunday bells, and looked -around a little more upon the outspread beauty, I felt that I was -not nearly thankful enough that I was too weak yet, to be even -that and I laid my head on Joe's shoulder, as I had laid it long -ago when he had taken me to the Fair or where not, and it was too -much for my young senses. -More composure came to me after a while, and we talked as we used -to talk, lying on the grass at the old Battery. There was no change -whatever in Joe. Exactly what he had been in my eyes then, he was -in my eyes still just as simply faithful, and as simply right. -When we got back again and he lifted me out, and carried me so -easily across the court and up the stairs, I thought of that -eventful Christmas Day when he had carried me over the marshes. We -had not yet made any allusion to my change of fortune, nor did I -know how much of my late history he was acquainted with. I was so -doubtful of myself now, and put so much trust in him, that I could -not satisfy myself whether I ought to refer to it when he did not. -"Have you heard, Joe," I asked him that evening, upon further -consideration, as he smoked his pipe at the window, "who my patron -was?" -"I heerd," returned Joe, "as it were not Miss Havisham, old chap." -"Did you hear who it was, Joe?" -"Well I heerd as it were a person what sent the person what -giv' you the banknotes at the Jolly Bargemen, Pip." -"So it was." -"Astonishing" said Joe, in the placidest way. -"Did you hear that he was dead, Joe?" I presently asked, with -increasing diffidence. -"Which? Him as sent the banknotes, Pip?" -"Yes." -"I think," said Joe, after meditating a long time, and looking -rather evasively at the windowseat, "as I did hear tell that how -he were something or another in a general way in that direction." -"Did you hear anything of his circumstances, Joe?" -"Not partickler, Pip." -"If you would like to hear, Joe" I was beginning, when Joe got up -and came to my sofa. -"Lookee here, old chap," said Joe, bending over me. "Ever the best -of friends ain't us, Pip?" -I was ashamed to answer him. -"Wery good, then," said Joe, as if I had answered "that's all -right, that's agreed upon. Then why go into subjects, old chap, -which as betwixt two sech must be for ever onnecessary? There's -subjects enough as betwixt two sech, without onnecessary ones. -Lord To think of your poor sister and her Rampages And don't you -remember Tickler?" -"I do indeed, Joe." -"Lookee here, old chap," said Joe. "I done what I could to keep you -and Tickler in sunders, but my power were not always fully equal to -my inclinations. For when your poor sister had a mind to drop into -you, it were not so much," said Joe, in his favourite argumentative -way, "that she dropped into me too, if I put myself in opposition -to her but that she dropped into you always heavier for it. I -noticed that. It ain't a grab at a man's whisker, not yet a shake -or two of a man to which your sister was quite welcome, that 'ud -put a man off from getting a little child out of punishment. But -when that little child is dropped into, heavier, for that grab of -whisker or shaking, then that man naterally up and says to himself, -'Where is the good as you are adoing? I grant you I see the 'arm,' -says the man, 'but I don't see the good. I call upon you, sir, -therefore, to pint out the good.'" -"The man says?" I observed, as Joe waited for me to speak. -"The man says," Joe assented. "Is he right, that man?" -"Dear Joe, he is always right." -"Well, old chap," said Joe, "then abide by your words. If he's -always right which in general he's more likely wrong, he's right -when he says this Supposing ever you kep any little matter to -yourself, when you was a little child, you kep it mostly because -you know'd as J. Gargery's power to part you and Tickler in -sunders, were not fully equal to his inclinations. Therefore, think -no more of it as betwixt two sech, and do not let us pass remarks -upon onnecessary subjects. Biddy giv' herself a deal o' trouble -with me afore I left for I am almost awful dull, as I should view -it in this light, and, viewing it in this light, as I should so put -it. Both of which," said Joe, quite charmed with his logical -arrangement, "being done, now this to you a true friend, say. -Namely. You mustn't go aoverdoing on it, but you must have your -supper and your wineandwater, and you must be put betwixt the -sheets." -The delicacy with which Joe dismissed this theme, and the sweet -tact and kindness with which Biddy who with her woman's wit had -found me out so soon had prepared him for it, made a deep -impression on my mind. But whether Joe knew how poor I was, and how -my great expectations had all dissolved, like our own marsh mists -before the sun, I could not understand. -Another thing in Joe that I could not understand when it first -began to develop itself, but which I soon arrived at a sorrowful -comprehension of, was this As I became stronger and better, Joe -became a little less easy with me. In my weakness and entire -dependence on him, the dear fellow had fallen into the old tone, -and called me by the old names, the dear "old Pip, old chap," that -now were music in my ears. I too had fallen into the old ways, only -happy and thankful that he let me. But, imperceptibly, though I -held by them fast, Joe's hold upon them began to slacken and -whereas I wondered at this, at first, I soon began to understand -that the cause of it was in me, and that the fault of it was all -mine. -Ah Had I given Joe no reason to doubt my constancy, and to think -that in prosperity I should grow cold to him and cast him off? Had -I given Joe's innocent heart no cause to feel instinctively that as -I got stronger, his hold upon me would be weaker, and that he had -better loosen it in time and let me go, before I plucked myself -away? -It was on the third or fourth occasion of my going out walking in -the Temple Gardens leaning on Joe's arm, that I saw this change in -him very plainly. We had been sitting in the bright warm sunlight, -looking at the river, and I chanced to say as we got up -"See, Joe I can walk quite strongly. Now, you shall see me walk -back by myself." -"Which do not overdo it, Pip," said Joe "but I shall be happy fur -to see you able, sir." -The last word grated on me but how could I remonstrate I walked -no further than the gate of the gardens, and then pretended to be -weaker than I was, and asked Joe for his arm. Joe gave it me, but -was thoughtful. -I, for my part, was thoughtful too for, how best to check this -growing change in Joe, was a great perplexity to my remorseful -thoughts. That I was ashamed to tell him exactly how I was placed, -and what I had come down to, I do not seek to conceal but, I hope -my reluctance was not quite an unworthy one. He would want to help -me out of his little savings, I knew, and I knew that he ought not -to help me, and that I must not suffer him to do it. -It was a thoughtful evening with both of us. But, before we went to -bed, I had resolved that I would wait over tomorrow, tomorrow -being Sunday, and would begin my new course with the new week. On -Monday morning I would speak to Joe about this change, I would lay -aside this last vestige of reserve, I would tell him what I had in -my thoughts that Secondly, not yet arrived at, and why I had not -decided to go out to Herbert, and then the change would be -conquered for ever. As I cleared, Joe cleared, and it seemed as -though he had sympathetically arrived at a resolution too. -We had a quiet day on the Sunday, and we rode out into the country, -and then walked in the fields. -"I feel thankful that I have been ill, Joe," I said. -"Dear old Pip, old chap, you're a'most come round, sir." -"It has been a memorable time for me, Joe." -"Likeways for myself, sir," Joe returned. -"We have had a time together, Joe, that I can never forget. There -were days once, I know, that I did for a while forget but I never -shall forget these." -"Pip," said Joe, appearing a little hurried and troubled, "there -has been larks, And, dear sir, what have been betwixt us have -been." -At night, when I had gone to bed, Joe came into my room, as he had -done all through my recovery. He asked me if I felt sure that I was -as well as in the morning? -"Yes, dear Joe, quite." -"And are always agetting stronger, old chap?" -"Yes, dear Joe, steadily." -Joe patted the coverlet on my shoulder with his great good hand, -and said, in what I thought a husky voice, "Good night" -When I got up in the morning, refreshed and stronger yet, I was -full of my resolution to tell Joe all, without delay. I would tell -him before breakfast. I would dress at once and go to his room and -surprise him for, it was the first day I had been up early. I went -to his room, and he was not there. Not only was he not there, but -his box was gone. -I hurried then to the breakfasttable, and on it found a letter. -These were its brief contents. -"Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again -dear Pip and will do better without JO. -"P.S. Ever the best of friends." -Enclosed in the letter, was a receipt for the debt and costs on -which I had been arrested. Down to that moment I had vainly -supposed that my creditor had withdrawn or suspended proceedings -until I should be quite recovered. I had never dreamed of Joe's -having paid the money but, Joe had paid it, and the receipt was in -his name. -What remained for me now, but to follow him to the dear old forge, -and there to have out my disclosure to him, and my penitent -remonstrance with him, and there to relieve my mind and heart of -that reserved Secondly, which had begun as a vague something -lingering in my thoughts, and had formed into a settled purpose? -The purpose was, that I would go to Biddy, that I would show her -how humbled and repentant I came back, that I would tell her how I -had lost all I once hoped for, that I would remind her of our old -confidences in my first unhappy time. Then, I would say to her, -"Biddy, I think you once liked me very well, when my errant heart, -even while it strayed away from you, was quieter and better with -you than it ever has been since. If you can like me only half as -well once more, if you can take me with all my faults and -disappointments on my head, if you can receive me like a forgiven -child and indeed I am as sorry, Biddy, and have as much need of a -hushing voice and a soothing hand, I hope I am a little worthier -of you that I was not much, but a little. And, Biddy, it shall -rest with you to say whether I shall work at the forge with Joe, or -whether I shall try for any different occupation down in this -country, or whether we shall go away to a distant place where an -opportunity awaits me, which I set aside when it was offered, until -I knew your answer. And now, dear Biddy, if you can tell me that -you will go through the world with me, you will surely make it a -better world for me, and me a better man for it, and I will try -hard to make it a better world for you." -Such was my purpose. After three days more of recovery, I went down -to the old place, to put it in execution and how I sped in it, is -all I have left to tell. -Chapter -The tidings of my high fortunes having had a heavy fall, had got -down to my native place and its neighbourhood, before I got there. -I found the Blue Boar in possession of the intelligence, and I -found that it made a great change in the Boar's demeanour. Whereas -the Boar had cultivated my good opinion with warm assiduity when I -was coming into property, the Boar was exceedingly cool on the -subject now that I was going out of property. -It was evening when I arrived, much fatigued by the journey I had -so often made so easily. The Boar could not put me into my usual -bedroom, which was engaged probably by some one who had -expectations, and could only assign me a very indifferent chamber -among the pigeons and postchaises up the yard. But, I had as sound -a sleep in that lodging as in the most superior accommodation the -Boar could have given me, and the quality of my dreams was about -the same as in the best bedroom. -Early in the morning while my breakfast was getting ready, I -strolled round by Satis House. There were printed bills on the -gate, and on bits of carpet hanging out of the windows, announcing -a sale by auction of the Household Furniture and Effects, next -week. The House itself was to be sold as old building materials and -pulled down. LOT was marked in whitewashed knockknee letters on -the brew house LOT on that part of the main building which had -been so long shut up. Other lots were marked off on other parts of -the structure, and the ivy had been torn down to make room for the -inscriptions, and much of it trailed low in the dust and was -withered already. Stepping in for a moment at the open gate and -looking around me with the uncomfortable air of a stranger who had -no business there, I saw the auctioneer's clerk walking on the -casks and telling them off for the information of a catalogue -compiler, pen in hand, who made a temporary desk of the wheeled -chair I had so often pushed along to the tune of Old Clem. -When I got back to my breakfast in the Boar's coffeeroom, I found -Mr. Pumblechook conversing with the landlord. Mr. Pumblechook not -improved in appearance by his late nocturnal adventure was waiting -for me, and addressed me in the following terms. -"Young man, I am sorry to see you brought low. But what else could -be expected What else could be expected" -As he extended his hand with a magnificently forgiving air, and as -I was broken by illness and unfit to quarrel, I took it. -"William," said Mr. Pumblechook to the waiter, "put a muffin on -table. And has it come to this Has it come to this" -I frowningly sat down to my breakfast. Mr. Pumblechook stood over me -and poured out my tea before I could touch the teapot with the -air of a benefactor who was resolved to be true to the last. -"William," said Mr. Pumblechook, mournfully, "put the salt on. In -happier times," addressing me, "I think you took sugar. And did you -take milk? You did. Sugar and milk. William, bring a watercress." -"Thank you," said I, shortly, "but I don't eat watercresses." -"You don't eat 'em," returned Mr. Pumblechook, sighing and nodding -his head several times, as if he might have expected that, and as -if abstinence from watercresses were consistent with my downfall. -"True. The simple fruits of the earth. No. You needn't bring any, -William." -I went on with my breakfast, and Mr. Pumblechook continued to stand -over me, staring fishily and breathing noisily, as he always did. -"Little more than skin and bone" mused Mr. Pumblechook, aloud. "And -yet when he went from here I may say with my blessing, and I -spread afore him my humble store, like the Bee, he was as plump as -a Peach" -This reminded me of the wonderful difference between the servile -manner in which he had offered his hand in my new prosperity, -saying, "May I?" and the ostentatious clemency with which he had -just now exhibited the same fat five fingers. -"Hah" he went on, handing me the breadandbutter. "And air you -agoing to Joseph?" -"In heaven's name," said I, firing in spite of myself, "what does -it matter to you where I am going? Leave that teapot alone." -It was the worst course I could have taken, because it gave -Pumblechook the opportunity he wanted. -"Yes, young man," said he, releasing the handle of the article in -question, retiring a step or two from my table, and speaking for -the behoof of the landlord and waiter at the door, "I will leave -that teapot alone. You are right, young man. For once, you are -right. I forgit myself when I take such an interest in your -breakfast, as to wish your frame, exhausted by the debilitating -effects of prodigygality, to be stimilated by the 'olesome -nourishment of your forefathers. And yet," said Pumblechook, -turning to the landlord and waiter, and pointing me out at arm's -length, "this is him as I ever sported with in his days of happy -infancy Tell me not it cannot be I tell you this is him" -A low murmur from the two replied. The waiter appeared to be -particularly affected. -"This is him," said Pumblechook, "as I have rode in my shaycart. -This is him as I have seen brought up by hand. This is him untoe -the sister of which I was uncle by marriage, as her name was -Georgiana M'ria from her own mother, let him deny it if he can" -The waiter seemed convinced that I could not deny it, and that it -gave the case a black look. -"Young man," said Pumblechook, screwing his head at me in the old -fashion, "you air agoing to Joseph. What does it matter to me, you -ask me, where you air agoing? I say to you, Sir, you air agoing -to Joseph." -The waiter coughed, as if he modestly invited me to get over that. -"Now," said Pumblechook, and all this with a most exasperating air -of saying in the cause of virtue what was perfectly convincing and -conclusive, "I will tell you what to say to Joseph. Here is Squires -of the Boar present, known and respected in this town, and here is -William, which his father's name was Potkins if I do not deceive -myself." -"You do not, sir," said William. -"In their presence," pursued Pumblechook, "I will tell you, young -man, what to say to Joseph. Says you, "Joseph, I have this day seen -my earliest benefactor and the founder of my fortun's. I will name -no names, Joseph, but so they are pleased to call him uptown, and -I have seen that man." -"I swear I don't see him here," said I. -"Say that likewise," retorted Pumblechook. "Say you said that, and -even Joseph will probably betray surprise." -"There you quite mistake him," said I. "I know better." -"Says you," Pumblechook went on, "'Joseph, I have seen that man, and -that man bears you no malice and bears me no malice. He knows your -character, Joseph, and is well acquainted with your pigheadedness -and ignorance and he knows my character, Joseph, and he knows my -want of gratitoode. Yes, Joseph,' says you," here Pumblechook shook -his head and hand at me, "'he knows my total deficiency of common -human gratitoode. He knows it, Joseph, as none can. You do not know -it, Joseph, having no call to know it, but that man do.'" -Windy donkey as he was, it really amazed me that he could have the -face to talk thus to mine. -"Says you, 'Joseph, he gave me a little message, which I will now -repeat. It was, that in my being brought low, he saw the finger of -Providence. He knowed that finger when he saw it, Joseph, and he -saw it plain. It pinted out this writing, Joseph. Reward of -ingratitoode to his earliest benefactor, and founder of fortun's. -But that man said he did not repent of what he had done, Joseph. -Not at all. It was right to do it, it was kind to do it, it was -benevolent to do it, and he would do it again.'" -"It's pity," said I, scornfully, as I finished my interrupted -breakfast, "that the man did not say what he had done and would do -again." -"Squires of the Boar" Pumblechook was now addressing the landlord, -"and William I have no objections to your mentioning, either -uptown or downtown, if such should be your wishes, that it was -right to do it, kind to do it, benevolent to do it, and that I -would do it again." -With those words the Impostor shook them both by the hand, with an -air, and left the house leaving me much more astonished than -delighted by the virtues of that same indefinite "it." I was not -long after him in leaving the house too, and when I went down the -Highstreet I saw him holding forth no doubt to the same effect -at his shop door to a select group, who honoured me with very -unfavourable glances as I passed on the opposite side of the way. -But, it was only the pleasanter to turn to Biddy and to Joe, whose -great forbearance shone more brightly than before, if that could -be, contrasted with this brazen pretender. I went towards them -slowly, for my limbs were weak, but with a sense of increasing -relief as I drew nearer to them, and a sense of leaving arrogance -and untruthfulness further and further behind. -The June weather was delicious. The sky was blue, the larks were -soaring high over the green corn, I thought all that countryside -more beautiful and peaceful by far than I had ever known it to be -yet. Many pleasant pictures of the life that I would lead there, -and of the change for the better that would come over my character -when I had a guiding spirit at my side whose simple faith and clear -homewisdom I had proved, beguiled my way. They awakened a tender -emotion in me for, my heart was softened by my return, and such a -change had come to pass, that I felt like one who was toiling home -barefoot from distant travel, and whose wanderings had lasted many -years. -The schoolhouse where Biddy was mistress, I had never seen but, -the little roundabout lane by which I entered the village for -quietness' sake, took me past it. I was disappointed to find that -the day was a holiday no children were there, and Biddy's house -was closed. Some hopeful notion of seeing her busily engaged in her -daily duties, before she saw me, had been in my mind and was -defeated. -But, the forge was a very short distance off, and I went towards it -under the sweet green limes, listening for the clink of Joe's -hammer. Long after I ought to have heard it, and long after I had -fancied I heard it and found it but a fancy, all was still. The -limes were there, and the white thorns were there, and the -chestnuttrees were there, and their leaves rustled harmoniously -when I stopped to listen but, the clink of Joe's hammer was not in -the midsummer wind. -Almost fearing, without knowing why, to come in view of the forge, -I saw it at last, and saw that it was closed. No gleam of fire, no -glittering shower of sparks, no roar of bellows all shut up, and -still. -But, the house was not deserted, and the best parlour seemed to be -in use, for there were white curtains fluttering in its window, and -the window was open and gay with flowers. I went softly towards it, -meaning to peep over the flowers, when Joe and Biddy stood before -me, arm in arm. -At first Biddy gave a cry, as if she thought it was my apparition, -but in another moment she was in my embrace. I wept to see her, and -she wept to see me I, because she looked so fresh and pleasant -she, because I looked so worn and white. -"But dear Biddy, how smart you are" -"Yes, dear Pip." -"And Joe, how smart you are" -"Yes, dear old Pip, old chap." -I looked at both of them, from one to the other, and then -"It's my weddingday," cried Biddy, in a burst of happiness, "and I -am married to Joe" -They had taken me into the kitchen, and I had laid my head down on -the old deal table. Biddy held one of my hands to her lips, and -Joe's restoring touch was on my shoulder. "Which he warn't strong -enough, my dear, fur to be surprised," said Joe. And Biddy said, "I -ought to have thought of it, dear Joe, but I was too happy." They -were both so overjoyed to see me, so proud to see me, so touched by -my coming to them, so delighted that I should have come by accident -to make their day complete -My first thought was one of great thankfulness that I had never -breathed this last baffled hope to Joe. How often, while he was -with me in my illness, had it risen to my lips. How irrevocable -would have been his knowledge of it, if he had remained with me but -another hour -"Dear Biddy," said I, "you have the best husband in the whole -world, and if you could have seen him by my bed you would have -But no, you couldn't love him better than you do." -"No, I couldn't indeed," said Biddy. -"And, dear Joe, you have the best wife in the whole world, and she -will make you as happy as even you deserve to be, you dear, good, -noble Joe" -Joe looked at me with a quivering lip, and fairly put his sleeve -before his eyes. -"And Joe and Biddy both, as you have been to church today, and are -in charity and love with all mankind, receive my humble thanks for -all you have done for me and all I have so ill repaid And when I -say that I am going away within the hour, for I am soon going -abroad, and that I shall never rest until I have worked for the -money with which you have kept me out of prison, and have sent it -to you, don't think, dear Joe and Biddy, that if I could repay it a -thousand times over, I suppose I could cancel a farthing of the -debt I owe you, or that I would do so if I could" -They were both melted by these words, and both entreated me to say -no more. -"But I must say more. Dear Joe, I hope you will have children to -love, and that some little fellow will sit in this chimney corner -of a winter night, who may remind you of another little fellow gone -out of it for ever. Don't tell him, Joe, that I was thankless -don't tell him, Biddy, that I was ungenerous and unjust only tell -him that I honoured you both, because you were both so good and -true, and that, as your child, I said it would be natural to him to -grow up a much better man than I did." -"I ain't agoing," said Joe, from behind his sleeve, "to tell him -nothink o' that natur, Pip. Nor Biddy ain't. Nor yet no one ain't." -"And now, though I know you have already done it in your own kind -hearts, pray tell me, both, that you forgive me Pray let me hear -you say the words, that I may carry the sound of them away with me, -and then I shall be able to believe that you can trust me, and -think better of me, in the time to come" -"O dear old Pip, old chap," said Joe. "God knows as I forgive you, -if I have anythink to forgive" -"Amen And God knows I do" echoed Biddy. -"Now let me go up and look at my old little room, and rest there a -few minutes by myself, and then when I have eaten and drunk with you, -go with me as far as the fingerpost, dear Joe and Biddy, before we -say goodbye" -I sold all I had, and put aside as much as I could, for a -composition with my creditors who gave me ample time to pay them -in full and I went out and joined Herbert. Within a month, I had -quitted England, and within two months I was clerk to Clarriker and -Co., and within four months I assumed my first undivided -responsibility. For, the beam across the parlour ceiling at Mill -Pond Bank, had then ceased to tremble under old Bill Barley's -growls and was at peace, and Herbert had gone away to marry Clara, -and I was left in sole charge of the Eastern Branch until he -brought her back. -Many a year went round, before I was a partner in the House but, -I lived happily with Herbert and his wife, and lived frugally, and -paid my debts, and maintained a constant correspondence with Biddy -and Joe. It was not until I became third in the Firm, that -Clarriker betrayed me to Herbert but, he then declared that the -secret of Herbert's partnership had been long enough upon his -conscience, and he must tell it. So, he told it, and Herbert was as -much moved as amazed, and the dear fellow and I were not the worse -friends for the long concealment. I must not leave it to be -supposed that we were ever a great house, or that we made mints of -money. We were not in a grand way of business, but we had a good -name, and worked for our profits, and did very well. We owed so -much to Herbert's ever cheerful industry and readiness, that I -often wondered how I had conceived that old idea of his inaptitude, -until I was one day enlightened by the reflection, that perhaps the -inaptitude had never been in him at all, but had been in me. -Chapter -For eleven years, I had not seen Joe nor Biddy with my bodily -eyesthough they had both been often before my fancy in the -Eastwhen, upon an evening in December, an hour or two after dark, -I laid my hand softly on the latch of the old kitchen door. I -touched it so softly that I was not heard, and looked in unseen. -There, smoking his pipe in the old place by the kitchen firelight, -as hale and as strong as ever though a little grey, sat Joe and -there, fenced into the corner with Joe's leg, and sitting on my own -little stool looking at the fire, was I again -"We giv' him the name of Pip for your sake, dear old chap," said -Joe, delighted when I took another stool by the child's side but I -did not rumple his hair, "and we hoped he might grow a little bit -like you, and we think he do." -I thought so too, and I took him out for a walk next morning, and -we talked immensely, understanding one another to perfection. And I -took him down to the churchyard, and set him on a certain tombstone -there, and he showed me from that elevation which stone was sacred -to the memory of Philip Pirrip, late of this Parish, and Also -Georgiana, Wife of the Above. -"Biddy," said I, when I talked with her after dinner, as her little -girl lay sleeping in her lap, "you must give Pip to me, one of -these days or lend him, at all events." -"No, no," said Biddy, gently. "You must marry." -"So Herbert and Clara say, but I don't think I shall, Biddy. I have -so settled down in their home, that it's not at all likely. I am -already quite an old bachelor." -Biddy looked down at her child, and put its little hand to her -lips, and then put the good matronly hand with which she had -touched it, into mine. There was something in the action and in the -light pressure of Biddy's weddingring, that had a very pretty -eloquence in it. -"Dear Pip," said Biddy, "you are sure you don't fret for her?" -"O no I think not, Biddy." -"Tell me as an old, old friend. Have you quite forgotten her? -"My dear Biddy, I have forgotten nothing in my life that ever had a -foremost place there, and little that ever had any place there. But -that poor dream, as I once used to call it, has all gone by, Biddy, -all gone by" -Nevertheless, I knew while I said those words, that I secretly -intended to revisit the site of the old house that evening, alone, -for her sake. Yes even so. For Estella's sake. -I had heard of her as leading a most unhappy life, and as being -separated from her husband, who had used her with great cruelty, -and who had become quite renowned as a compound of pride, avarice, -brutality, and meanness. And I had heard of the death of her -husband, from an accident consequent on his illtreatment of a -horse. This release had befallen her some two years before for -anything I knew, she was married again. -The early dinnerhour at Joe's, left me abundance of time, without -hurrying my talk with Biddy, to walk over to the old spot before -dark. But, what with loitering on the way, to look at old objects -and to think of old times, the day had quite declined when I came -to the place. -There was no house now, no brewery, no building whatever left, but -the wall of the old garden. The cleared space had been enclosed -with a rough fence, and, looking over it, I saw that some of the -old ivy had struck root anew, and was growing green on low quiet -mounds of ruin. A gate in the fence standing ajar, I pushed it -open, and went in. -A cold silvery mist had veiled the afternoon, and the moon was not -yet up to scatter it. But, the stars were shining beyond the mist, -and the moon was coming, and the evening was not dark. I could -trace out where every part of the old house had been, and where the -brewery had been, and where the gate, and where the casks. I had -done so, and was looking along the desolate gardenwalk, when I -beheld a solitary figure in it. -The figure showed itself aware of me, as I advanced. It had been -moving towards me, but it stood still. As I drew nearer, I saw it -to be the figure of a woman. As I drew nearer yet, it was about to -turn away, when it stopped, and let me come up with it. Then, it -faltered as if much surprised, and uttered my name, and I cried -out -"Estella" -"I am greatly changed. I wonder you know me." -The freshness of her beauty was indeed gone, but its indescribable -majesty and its indescribable charm remained. Those attractions in -it, I had seen before what I had never seen before, was the -saddened softened light of the once proud eyes what I had never -felt before, was the friendly touch of the once insensible hand. -We sat down on a bench that was near, and I said, "After so many -years, it is strange that we should thus meet again, Estella, here -where our first meeting was Do you often come back?" -"I have never been here since." -"Nor I." -The moon began to rise, and I thought of the placid look at the -white ceiling, which had passed away. The moon began to rise, and I -thought of the pressure on my hand when I had spoken the last words -he had heard on earth. -Estella was the next to break the silence that ensued between us. -"I have very often hoped and intended to come back, but have been -prevented by many circumstances. Poor, poor old place" -The silvery mist was touched with the first rays of the moonlight, -and the same rays touched the tears that dropped from her eyes. Not -knowing that I saw them, and setting herself to get the better of -them, she said quietly -"Were you wondering, as you walked along, how it came to be left in -this condition?" -"Yes, Estella." -"The ground belongs to me. It is the only possession I have not -relinquished. Everything else has gone from me, little by little, -but I have kept this. It was the subject of the only determined -resistance I made in all the wretched years." -"Is it to be built on?" -"At last it is. I came here to take leave of it before its change. -And you," she said, in a voice of touching interest to a wanderer, -"you live abroad still?" -"Still." -"And do well, I am sure?" -"I work pretty hard for a sufficient living, and therefore Yes, I -do well." -"I have often thought of you," said Estella. -"Have you?" -"Of late, very often. There was a long hard time when I kept far -from me, the remembrance, of what I had thrown away when I was -quite ignorant of its worth. But, since my duty has not been -incompatible with the admission of that remembrance, I have given -it a place in my heart." -"You have always held your place in my heart," I answered. -And we were silent again, until she spoke. -"I little thought," said Estella, "that I should take leave of you -in taking leave of this spot. I am very glad to do so." -"Glad to part again, Estella? To me, parting is a painful thing. To -me, the remembrance of our last parting has been ever mournful and -painful." -"But you said to me," returned Estella, very earnestly, "'God bless -you, God forgive you' And if you could say that to me then, you -will not hesitate to say that to me now now, when suffering has -been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to -understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, -but I hope into a better shape. Be as considerate and good to -me as you were, and tell me we are friends." -"We are friends," said I, rising and bending over her, as she rose -from the bench. -"And will continue friends apart," said Estella. -I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place and, -as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the -forge, so, the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad -expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of -another parting from her. -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Great Expectations, by Dickens -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Complete -by Mark Twain Samuel Clemens -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -reuse it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net -Title The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Complete -Author Mark Twain Samuel Clemens -Release Date August , [EBook ] -Language English -Character set encoding ASCII - START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUCKLEBERRY FINN -Produced by David Widger. Previous editions produced by Ron Burkey -and Internet Wiretap -HUCKLEBERRY FINN -By Mark Twain -NOTICE -PERSONS attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted -persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished persons -attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. -BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR, Per G.G., Chief of Ordnance. -EXPLANATORY -IN this book a number of dialects are used, to wit the Missouri negro -dialect the extremest form of the backwoods Southwestern dialect the -ordinary "Pike County" dialect and four modified varieties of this last. -The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by guesswork -but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and support of -personal familiarity with these several forms of speech. -I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers would -suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and not -succeeding. -THE AUTHOR. -HUCKLEBERRY FINN -Scene The Mississippi Valley Time Forty to fifty years ago -CHAPTER I. -YOU don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The -Adventures of Tom Sawyer but that ain't no matter. That book was made -by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which -he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never -seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or -the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt PollyTom's Aunt Polly, she isand -Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is -mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before. -Now the way that the book winds up is this Tom and me found the money -that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six -thousand dollars apieceall gold. It was an awful sight of money when -it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at -interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round -more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she took -me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me but it was rough -living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and -decent the widow was in all her ways and so when I couldn't stand it no -longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugarhogshead again, -and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he -was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would go back -to the widow and be respectable. So I went back. -The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she -called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it. -She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing but sweat -and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced -again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time. -When you got to the table you couldn't go right to eating, but you had to -wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the -victuals, though there warn't really anything the matter with them,that -is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a barrel of odds -and ends it is different things get mixed up, and the juice kind of -swaps around, and the things go better. -After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the -Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him but by and by -she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time so then -I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in dead -people. -Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she -wouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must -try to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They -get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here she was -abothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, -being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a -thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too of course that -was all right, because she done it herself. -Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, -had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a -spellingbook. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then -the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then for -an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, -"Don't put your feet up there, Huckleberry" and "Don't scrunch up like -that, Huckleberryset up straight" and pretty soon she would say, -"Don't gap and stretch like that, Huckleberrywhy don't you try to -behave?" Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I -was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted was -to go somewheres all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular. She -said it was wicked to say what I said said she wouldn't say it for the -whole world she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, -I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my -mind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it would only -make trouble, and wouldn't do no good. -Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good -place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all -day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't think much -of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would -go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about -that, because I wanted him and me to be together. -Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. By -and by they fetched the niggers in and had prayers, and then everybody -was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it -on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to -think of something cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt so lonesome I -most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled -in the woods ever so mournful and I heard an owl, away off, whowhooing -about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about -somebody that was going to die and the wind was trying to whisper -something to me, and I couldn't make out what it was, and so it made the -cold shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of -a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that's -on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so can't rest easy in -its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. I got so -downhearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a -spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in -the candle and before I could budge it was all shriveled up. I didn't -need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch -me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. -I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast -every time and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to -keep witches away. But I hadn't no confidence. You do that when you've -lost a horseshoe that you've found, instead of nailing it up over the -door, but I hadn't ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad -luck when you'd killed a spider. -I set down again, ashaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke -for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn't -know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go -boomboomboomtwelve licks and all still againstiller than ever. -Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees -something was a stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I could -just barely hear a "meyow meyow" down there. That was good Says I, -"meyow meyow" as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and -scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the -ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom -Sawyer waiting for me. -CHAPTER II. -WE went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end of -the widow's garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn't scrape our -heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root and made a -noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson's big nigger, -named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door we could see him pretty -clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and stretched his -neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says -"Who dah?" -He listened some more then he come tiptoeing down and stood right -between us we could a touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was minutes -and minutes that there warn't a sound, and we all there so close -together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I -dasn't scratch it and then my ear begun to itch and next my back, right -between my shoulders. Seemed like I'd die if I couldn't scratch. Well, -I've noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with the quality, -or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain't sleepyif you -are anywheres where it won't do for you to scratch, why you will itch all -over in upwards of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim says -"Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn' hear sumf'n. -Well, I know what I's gwyne to do I's gwyne to set down here and listen -tell I hears it agin." -So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back up -against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most touched -one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears come into -my eyes. But I dasn't scratch. Then it begun to itch on the inside. -Next I got to itching underneath. I didn't know how I was going to set -still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes but it -seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different -places now. I reckoned I couldn't stand it more'n a minute longer, but I -set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun to breathe -heavy next he begun to snoreand then I was pretty soon comfortable -again. -Tom he made a sign to mekind of a little noise with his mouthand we -went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot off Tom -whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But I said -no he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they'd find out I -warn't in. Then Tom said he hadn't got candles enough, and he would slip -in the kitchen and get some more. I didn't want him to try. I said Jim -might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it so we slid in there -and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table for pay. -Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away but nothing would do -Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and knees, and play -something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good while, everything was -so still and lonesome. -As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, -and by and by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of -the house. Tom said he slipped Jim's hat off of his head and hung it on -a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn't wake. -Afterwards Jim said the witches be witched him and put him in a trance, -and rode him all over the State, and then set him under the trees again, -and hung his hat on a limb to show who done it. And next time Jim told -it he said they rode him down to New Orleans and, after that, every time -he told it he spread it more and more, till by and by he said they rode -him all over the world, and tired him most to death, and his back was all -over saddleboils. Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he got so he -wouldn't hardly notice the other niggers. Niggers would come miles to -hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any nigger in -that country. Strange niggers would stand with their mouths open and -look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Niggers is always talking -about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire but whenever one was -talking and letting on to know all about such things, Jim would happen in -and say, "Hm What you know 'bout witches?" and that nigger was corked -up and had to take a back seat. Jim always kept that fivecenter piece -round his neck with a string, and said it was a charm the devil give to -him with his own hands, and told him he could cure anybody with it and -fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by saying something to it but -he never told what it was he said to it. Niggers would come from all -around there and give Jim anything they had, just for a sight of that -fivecenter piece but they wouldn't touch it, because the devil had had -his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for a servant, because he got stuck -up on account of having seen the devil and been rode by witches. -Well, when Tom and me got to the edge of the hilltop we looked away down -into the village and could see three or four lights twinkling, where -there was sick folks, maybe and the stars over us was sparkling ever so -fine and down by the village was the river, a whole mile broad, and -awful still and grand. We went down the hill and found Jo Harper and Ben -Rogers, and two or three more of the boys, hid in the old tanyard. So we -unhitched a skiff and pulled down the river two mile and a half, to the -big scar on the hillside, and went ashore. -We went to a clump of bushes, and Tom made everybody swear to keep the -secret, and then showed them a hole in the hill, right in the thickest -part of the bushes. Then we lit the candles, and crawled in on our hands -and knees. We went about two hundred yards, and then the cave opened up. -Tom poked about amongst the passages, and pretty soon ducked under a wall -where you wouldn't a noticed that there was a hole. We went along a -narrow place and got into a kind of room, all damp and sweaty and cold, -and there we stopped. Tom says -"Now, we'll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer's Gang. -Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name -in blood." -Everybody was willing. So Tom got out a sheet of paper that he had wrote -the oath on, and read it. It swore every boy to stick to the band, and -never tell any of the secrets and if anybody done anything to any boy in -the band, whichever boy was ordered to kill that person and his family -must do it, and he mustn't eat and he mustn't sleep till he had killed -them and hacked a cross in their breasts, which was the sign of the band. -And nobody that didn't belong to the band could use that mark, and if he -did he must be sued and if he done it again he must be killed. And if -anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he must have his -throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the ashes scattered -all around, and his name blotted off of the list with blood and never -mentioned again by the gang, but have a curse put on it and be forgot -forever. -Everybody said it was a real beautiful oath, and asked Tom if he got it -out of his own head. He said, some of it, but the rest was out of -piratebooks and robberbooks, and every gang that was hightoned had it. -Some thought it would be good to kill the FAMILIES of boys that told the -secrets. Tom said it was a good idea, so he took a pencil and wrote it -in. Then Ben Rogers says -"Here's Huck Finn, he hain't got no family what you going to do 'bout -him?" -"Well, hain't he got a father?" says Tom Sawyer. -"Yes, he's got a father, but you can't never find him these days. He -used to lay drunk with the hogs in the tanyard, but he hain't been seen -in these parts for a year or more." -They talked it over, and they was going to rule me out, because they said -every boy must have a family or somebody to kill, or else it wouldn't be -fair and square for the others. Well, nobody could think of anything to -doeverybody was stumped, and set still. I was most ready to cry but -all at once I thought of a way, and so I offered them Miss Watsonthey -could kill her. Everybody said -"Oh, she'll do. That's all right. Huck can come in." -Then they all stuck a pin in their fingers to get blood to sign with, and -I made my mark on the paper. -"Now," says Ben Rogers, "what's the line of business of this Gang?" -"Nothing only robbery and murder," Tom said. -"But who are we going to rob?houses, or cattle, or" -"Stuff stealing cattle and such things ain't robbery it's burglary," -says Tom Sawyer. "We ain't burglars. That ain't no sort of style. We -are highwaymen. We stop stages and carriages on the road, with masks on, -and kill the people and take their watches and money." -"Must we always kill the people?" -"Oh, certainly. It's best. Some authorities think different, but mostly -it's considered best to kill themexcept some that you bring to the cave -here, and keep them till they're ransomed." -"Ransomed? What's that?" -"I don't know. But that's what they do. I've seen it in books and so -of course that's what we've got to do." -"But how can we do it if we don't know what it is?" -"Why, blame it all, we've GOT to do it. Don't I tell you it's in the -books? Do you want to go to doing different from what's in the books, -and get things all muddled up?" -"Oh, that's all very fine to SAY, Tom Sawyer, but how in the nation are -these fellows going to be ransomed if we don't know how to do it to them? -that's the thing I want to get at. Now, what do you reckon it is?" -"Well, I don't know. But per'aps if we keep them till they're ransomed, -it means that we keep them till they're dead." -"Now, that's something LIKE. That'll answer. Why couldn't you said that -before? We'll keep them till they're ransomed to death and a bothersome -lot they'll be, tooeating up everything, and always trying to get -loose." -"How you talk, Ben Rogers. How can they get loose when there's a guard -over them, ready to shoot them down if they move a peg?" -"A guard Well, that IS good. So somebody's got to set up all night and -never get any sleep, just so as to watch them. I think that's -foolishness. Why can't a body take a club and ransom them as soon as they -get here?" -"Because it ain't in the books sothat's why. Now, Ben Rogers, do you -want to do things regular, or don't you?that's the idea. Don't you -reckon that the people that made the books knows what's the correct thing -to do? Do you reckon YOU can learn 'em anything? Not by a good deal. -No, sir, we'll just go on and ransom them in the regular way." -"All right. I don't mind but I say it's a fool way, anyhow. Say, do we -kill the women, too?" -"Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn't let on. Kill -the women? No nobody ever saw anything in the books like that. You -fetch them to the cave, and you're always as polite as pie to them and -by and by they fall in love with you, and never want to go home any -more." -"Well, if that's the way I'm agreed, but I don't take no stock in it. -Mighty soon we'll have the cave so cluttered up with women, and fellows -waiting to be ransomed, that there won't be no place for the robbers. -But go ahead, I ain't got nothing to say." -Little Tommy Barnes was asleep now, and when they waked him up he was -scared, and cried, and said he wanted to go home to his ma, and didn't -want to be a robber any more. -So they all made fun of him, and called him crybaby, and that made him -mad, and he said he would go straight and tell all the secrets. But Tom -give him five cents to keep quiet, and said we would all go home and meet -next week, and rob somebody and kill some people. -Ben Rogers said he couldn't get out much, only Sundays, and so he wanted -to begin next Sunday but all the boys said it would be wicked to do it -on Sunday, and that settled the thing. They agreed to get together and -fix a day as soon as they could, and then we elected Tom Sawyer first -captain and Jo Harper second captain of the Gang, and so started home. -I clumb up the shed and crept into my window just before day was -breaking. My new clothes was all greased up and clayey, and I was -dogtired. -CHAPTER III. -WELL, I got a good goingover in the morning from old Miss Watson on -account of my clothes but the widow she didn't scold, but only cleaned -off the grease and clay, and looked so sorry that I thought I would -behave awhile if I could. Then Miss Watson she took me in the closet and -prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and -whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. -Once I got a fishline, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without -hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't -make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but -she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn't make it out -no way. -I set down one time back in the woods, and had a long think about it. I -says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for, why don't -Deacon Winn get back the money he lost on pork? Why can't the widow get -back her silver snuffbox that was stole? Why can't Miss Watson fat up? -No, says I to my self, there ain't nothing in it. I went and told the -widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by praying for it -was "spiritual gifts." This was too many for me, but she told me what -she meantI must help other people, and do everything I could for other -people, and look out for them all the time, and never think about myself. -This was including Miss Watson, as I took it. I went out in the woods -and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn't see no -advantage about itexcept for the other people so at last I reckoned I -wouldn't worry about it any more, but just let it go. Sometimes the -widow would take me one side and talk about Providence in a way to make a -body's mouth water but maybe next day Miss Watson would take hold and -knock it all down again. I judged I could see that there was two -Providences, and a poor chap would stand considerable show with the -widow's Providence, but if Miss Watson's got him there warn't no help for -him any more. I thought it all out, and reckoned I would belong to the -widow's if he wanted me, though I couldn't make out how he was agoing to -be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was so ignorant, -and so kind of lowdown and ornery. -Pap he hadn't been seen for more than a year, and that was comfortable -for me I didn't want to see him no more. He used to always whale me -when he was sober and could get his hands on me though I used to take to -the woods most of the time when he was around. Well, about this time he -was found in the river drownded, about twelve mile above town, so people -said. They judged it was him, anyway said this drownded man was just -his size, and was ragged, and had uncommon long hair, which was all like -pap but they couldn't make nothing out of the face, because it had been -in the water so long it warn't much like a face at all. They said he was -floating on his back in the water. They took him and buried him on the -bank. But I warn't comfortable long, because I happened to think of -something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don't float on his -back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn't pap, but a -woman dressed up in a man's clothes. So I was uncomfortable again. I -judged the old man would turn up again by and by, though I wished he -wouldn't. -We played robber now and then about a month, and then I resigned. All -the boys did. We hadn't robbed nobody, hadn't killed any people, but -only just pretended. We used to hop out of the woods and go charging -down on hogdrivers and women in carts taking garden stuff to market, but -we never hived any of them. Tom Sawyer called the hogs "ingots," and he -called the turnips and stuff "julery," and we would go to the cave and -powwow over what we had done, and how many people we had killed and -marked. But I couldn't see no profit in it. One time Tom sent a boy to -run about town with a blazing stick, which he called a slogan which was -the sign for the Gang to get together, and then he said he had got -secret news by his spies that next day a whole parcel of Spanish -merchants and rich Arabs was going to camp in Cave Hollow with two -hundred elephants, and six hundred camels, and over a thousand "sumter" -mules, all loaded down with di'monds, and they didn't have only a guard -of four hundred soldiers, and so we would lay in ambuscade, as he called -it, and kill the lot and scoop the things. He said we must slick up our -swords and guns, and get ready. He never could go after even a -turnipcart but he must have the swords and guns all scoured up for it, -though they was only lath and broomsticks, and you might scour at them -till you rotted, and then they warn't worth a mouthful of ashes more than -what they was before. I didn't believe we could lick such a crowd of -Spaniards and Arabs, but I wanted to see the camels and elephants, so I -was on hand next day, Saturday, in the ambuscade and when we got the -word we rushed out of the woods and down the hill. But there warn't no -Spaniards and Arabs, and there warn't no camels nor no elephants. It -warn't anything but a Sundayschool picnic, and only a primerclass at -that. We busted it up, and chased the children up the hollow but we -never got anything but some doughnuts and jam, though Ben Rogers got a -rag doll, and Jo Harper got a hymnbook and a tract and then the teacher -charged in, and made us drop everything and cut. I didn't see no -di'monds, and I told Tom Sawyer so. He said there was loads of them -there, anyway and he said there was Arabs there, too, and elephants and -things. I said, why couldn't we see them, then? He said if I warn't so -ignorant, but had read a book called Don Quixote, I would know without -asking. He said it was all done by enchantment. He said there was -hundreds of soldiers there, and elephants and treasure, and so on, but we -had enemies which he called magicians and they had turned the whole -thing into an infant Sundayschool, just out of spite. I said, all -right then the thing for us to do was to go for the magicians. Tom -Sawyer said I was a numskull. -"Why," said he, "a magician could call up a lot of genies, and they would -hash you up like nothing before you could say Jack Robinson. They are as -tall as a tree and as big around as a church." -"Well," I says, "s'pose we got some genies to help UScan't we lick the -other crowd then?" -"How you going to get them?" -"I don't know. How do THEY get them?" -"Why, they rub an old tin lamp or an iron ring, and then the genies come -tearing in, with the thunder and lightning aripping around and the smoke -arolling, and everything they're told to do they up and do it. They -don't think nothing of pulling a shottower up by the roots, and belting -a Sundayschool superintendent over the head with itor any other man." -"Who makes them tear around so?" -"Why, whoever rubs the lamp or the ring. They belong to whoever rubs the -lamp or the ring, and they've got to do whatever he says. If he tells -them to build a palace forty miles long out of di'monds, and fill it full -of chewinggum, or whatever you want, and fetch an emperor's daughter -from China for you to marry, they've got to do itand they've got to do -it before sunup next morning, too. And more they've got to waltz that -palace around over the country wherever you want it, you understand." -"Well," says I, "I think they are a pack of flatheads for not keeping -the palace themselves 'stead of fooling them away like that. And what's -moreif I was one of them I would see a man in Jericho before I would -drop my business and come to him for the rubbing of an old tin lamp." -"How you talk, Huck Finn. Why, you'd HAVE to come when he rubbed it, -whether you wanted to or not." -"What and I as high as a tree and as big as a church? All right, then -I WOULD come but I lay I'd make that man climb the highest tree there -was in the country." -"Shucks, it ain't no use to talk to you, Huck Finn. You don't seem to -know anything, somehowperfect saphead." -I thought all this over for two or three days, and then I reckoned I -would see if there was anything in it. I got an old tin lamp and an iron -ring, and went out in the woods and rubbed and rubbed till I sweat like -an Injun, calculating to build a palace and sell it but it warn't no -use, none of the genies come. So then I judged that all that stuff was -only just one of Tom Sawyer's lies. I reckoned he believed in the Arabs -and the elephants, but as for me I think different. It had all the marks -of a Sundayschool. -CHAPTER IV. -WELL, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter -now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and -write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six -times seven is thirtyfive, and I don't reckon I could ever get any -further than that if I was to live forever. I don't take no stock in -mathematics, anyway. -At first I hated the school, but by and by I got so I could stand it. -Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next -day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the -easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow's ways, -too, and they warn't so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in a -bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used -to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to -me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new -ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, -and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn't ashamed of me. -One morning I happened to turn over the saltcellar at breakfast. I -reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder -and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and -crossed me off. She says, "Take your hands away, Huckleberry what a mess -you are always making" The widow put in a good word for me, but that -warn't going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. I -started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and wondering -where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. There is -ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn't one of them -kind so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along lowspirited -and on the watchout. -I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go -through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the -ground, and I seen somebody's tracks. They had come up from the quarry -and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden -fence. It was funny they hadn't come in, after standing around so. I -couldn't make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to -follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn't -notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left -bootheel made with big nails, to keep off the devil. -I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my -shoulder every now and then, but I didn't see nobody. I was at Judge -Thatcher's as quick as I could get there. He said -"Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your -interest?" -"No, sir," I says "is there some for me?" -"Oh, yes, a halfyearly is in last nightover a hundred and fifty -dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it along -with your six thousand, because if you take it you'll spend it." -"No, sir," I says, "I don't want to spend it. I don't want it at all -nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it I want to give it -to youthe six thousand and all." -He looked surprised. He couldn't seem to make it out. He says -"Why, what can you mean, my boy?" -I says, "Don't you ask me no questions about it, please. You'll take it -won't you?" -He says -"Well, I'm puzzled. Is something the matter?" -"Please take it," says I, "and don't ask me nothingthen I won't have to -tell no lies." -He studied a while, and then he says -"Ohoo I think I see. You want to SELL all your property to menot -give it. That's the correct idea." -Then he wrote something on a paper and read it over, and says -"There you see it says 'for a consideration.' That means I have bought -it of you and paid you for it. Here's a dollar for you. Now you sign -it." -So I signed it, and left. -Miss Watson's nigger, Jim, had a hairball as big as your fist, which had -been took out of the fourth stomach of an ox, and he used to do magic -with it. He said there was a spirit inside of it, and it knowed -everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here again, -for I found his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was, what he -was going to do, and was he going to stay? Jim got out his hairball and -said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped it on the -floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about an inch. Jim tried -it again, and then another time, and it acted just the same. Jim got -down on his knees, and put his ear against it and listened. But it -warn't no use he said it wouldn't talk. He said sometimes it wouldn't -talk without money. I told him I had an old slick counterfeit quarter -that warn't no good because the brass showed through the silver a little, -and it wouldn't pass nohow, even if the brass didn't show, because it was -so slick it felt greasy, and so that would tell on it every time. I -reckoned I wouldn't say nothing about the dollar I got from the judge. I -said it was pretty bad money, but maybe the hairball would take it, -because maybe it wouldn't know the difference. Jim smelt it and bit it -and rubbed it, and said he would manage so the hairball would think it -was good. He said he would split open a raw Irish potato and stick the -quarter in between and keep it there all night, and next morning you -couldn't see no brass, and it wouldn't feel greasy no more, and so -anybody in town would take it in a minute, let alone a hairball. Well, -I knowed a potato would do that before, but I had forgot it. -Jim put the quarter under the hairball, and got down and listened again. -This time he said the hairball was all right. He said it would tell my -whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the hairball talked -to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says -"Yo' ole father doan' know yit what he's agwyne to do. Sometimes he -spec he'll go 'way, en den agin he spec he'll stay. De bes' way is to -res' easy en let de ole man take his own way. Dey's two angels hoverin' -roun' 'bout him. One uv 'em is white en shiny, en t'other one is black. -De white one gits him to go right a little while, den de black one sail -in en bust it all up. A body can't tell yit which one gwyne to fetch him -at de las'. But you is all right. You gwyne to have considable trouble -in yo' life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git hurt, en -sometimes you gwyne to git sick but every time you's gwyne to git well -agin. Dey's two gals flyin' 'bout you in yo' life. One uv 'em's light -en t'other one is dark. One is rich en t'other is po'. You's gwyne to -marry de po' one fust en de rich one by en by. You wants to keep 'way -fum de water as much as you kin, en don't run no resk, 'kase it's down in -de bills dat you's gwyne to git hung." -When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat paphis -own self -CHAPTER V. -I HAD shut the door to. Then I turned around and there he was. I used -to be scared of him all the time, he tanned me so much. I reckoned I was -scared now, too but in a minute I see I was mistakenthat is, after the -first jolt, as you may say, when my breath sort of hitched, he being so -unexpected but right away after I see I warn't scared of him worth -bothring about. -He was most fifty, and he looked it. His hair was long and tangled and -greasy, and hung down, and you could see his eyes shining through like he -was behind vines. It was all black, no gray so was his long, mixedup -whiskers. There warn't no color in his face, where his face showed it -was white not like another man's white, but a white to make a body sick, -a white to make a body's flesh crawla treetoad white, a fishbelly -white. As for his clothesjust rags, that was all. He had one ankle -resting on t'other knee the boot on that foot was busted, and two of his -toes stuck through, and he worked them now and then. His hat was laying -on the flooran old black slouch with the top caved in, like a lid. -I stood alooking at him he set there alooking at me, with his chair -tilted back a little. I set the candle down. I noticed the window was -up so he had clumb in by the shed. He kept alooking me all over. By -and by he says -"Starchy clothesvery. You think you're a good deal of a bigbug, DON'T -you?" -"Maybe I am, maybe I ain't," I says. -"Don't you give me none o' your lip," says he. "You've put on -considerable many frills since I been away. I'll take you down a peg -before I get done with you. You're educated, too, they saycan read and -write. You think you're better'n your father, now, don't you, because he -can't? I'LL take it out of you. Who told you you might meddle with such -hifalut'n foolishness, hey?who told you you could?" -"The widow. She told me." -"The widow, hey?and who told the widow she could put in her shovel -about a thing that ain't none of her business?" -"Nobody never told her." -"Well, I'll learn her how to meddle. And looky hereyou drop that -school, you hear? I'll learn people to bring up a boy to put on airs -over his own father and let on to be better'n what HE is. You lemme -catch you fooling around that school again, you hear? Your mother -couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died. None of -the family couldn't before THEY died. I can't and here you're -aswelling yourself up like this. I ain't the man to stand ityou hear? -Say, lemme hear you read." -I took up a book and begun something about General Washington and the -wars. When I'd read about a half a minute, he fetched the book a whack -with his hand and knocked it across the house. He says -"It's so. You can do it. I had my doubts when you told me. Now looky -here you stop that putting on frills. I won't have it. I'll lay for -you, my smarty and if I catch you about that school I'll tan you good. -First you know you'll get religion, too. I never see such a son." -He took up a little blue and yaller picture of some cows and a boy, and -says -"What's this?" -"It's something they give me for learning my lessons good." -He tore it up, and says -"I'll give you something betterI'll give you a cowhide." -He set there amumbling and agrowling a minute, and then he says -"AIN'T you a sweetscented dandy, though? A bed and bedclothes and a -look'n'glass and a piece of carpet on the floorand your own father -got to sleep with the hogs in the tanyard. I never see such a son. I -bet I'll take some o' these frills out o' you before I'm done with you. -Why, there ain't no end to your airsthey say you're rich. Hey?how's -that?" -"They liethat's how." -"Looky heremind how you talk to me I'm astanding about all I can -stand nowso don't gimme no sass. I've been in town two days, and I -hain't heard nothing but about you bein' rich. I heard about it away -down the river, too. That's why I come. You git me that money -tomorrowI want it." -"I hain't got no money." -"It's a lie. Judge Thatcher's got it. You git it. I want it." -"I hain't got no money, I tell you. You ask Judge Thatcher he'll tell -you the same." -"All right. I'll ask him and I'll make him pungle, too, or I'll know -the reason why. Say, how much you got in your pocket? I want it." -"I hain't got only a dollar, and I want that to" -"It don't make no difference what you want it foryou just shell it -out." -He took it and bit it to see if it was good, and then he said he was -going down town to get some whisky said he hadn't had a drink all day. -When he had got out on the shed he put his head in again, and cussed me -for putting on frills and trying to be better than him and when I -reckoned he was gone he come back and put his head in again, and told me -to mind about that school, because he was going to lay for me and lick me -if I didn't drop that. -Next day he was drunk, and he went to Judge Thatcher's and bullyragged -him, and tried to make him give up the money but he couldn't, and then -he swore he'd make the law force him. -The judge and the widow went to law to get the court to take me away from -him and let one of them be my guardian but it was a new judge that had -just come, and he didn't know the old man so he said courts mustn't -interfere and separate families if they could help it said he'd druther -not take a child away from its father. So Judge Thatcher and the widow -had to quit on the business. -That pleased the old man till he couldn't rest. He said he'd cowhide me -till I was black and blue if I didn't raise some money for him. I -borrowed three dollars from Judge Thatcher, and pap took it and got -drunk, and went ablowing around and cussing and whooping and carrying -on and he kept it up all over town, with a tin pan, till most midnight -then they jailed him, and next day they had him before court, and jailed -him again for a week. But he said HE was satisfied said he was boss of -his son, and he'd make it warm for HIM. -When he got out the new judge said he was agoing to make a man of him. -So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and -had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just -old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about -temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said he'd been a -fool, and fooled away his life but now he was agoing to turn over a new -leaf and be a man nobody wouldn't be ashamed of, and he hoped the judge -would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could hug him -for them words so he cried, and his wife she cried again pap said he'd -been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the judge said -he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted that was down -was sympathy, and the judge said it was so so they cried again. And -when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his hand, and says -"Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all take ahold of it shake it. -There's a hand that was the hand of a hog but it ain't so no more it's -the hand of a man that's started in on a new life, and'll die before -he'll go back. You mark them wordsdon't forget I said them. It's a -clean hand now shake itdon't be afeard." -So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The -judge's wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledgemade -his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something -like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was -the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and -clumb out on to the porchroof and slid down a stanchion and traded his -new coat for a jug of fortyrod, and clumb back again and had a good old -time and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and -rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most -froze to death when somebody found him after sunup. And when they come -to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could -navigate it. -The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform -the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didn't know no other way. -CHAPTER VI. -WELL, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went -for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he -went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of -times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged him -or outrun him most of the time. I didn't want to go to school much -before, but I reckoned I'd go now to spite pap. That law trial was a -slow businessappeared like they warn't ever going to get started on -it so every now and then I'd borrow two or three dollars off of the -judge for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every time he got money -he got drunk and every time he got drunk he raised Cain around town and -every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suitedthis kind -of thing was right in his line. -He got to hanging around the widow's too much and so she told him at last -that if he didn't quit using around there she would make trouble for him. -Well, WASN'T he mad? He said he would show who was Huck Finn's boss. So -he watched out for me one day in the spring, and catched me, and took me -up the river about three mile in a skiff, and crossed over to the -Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn't no houses but an old -log hut in a place where the timber was so thick you couldn't find it if -you didn't know where it was. -He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. -We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the key -under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, and we -fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little while he -locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the ferry, and -traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got drunk and -had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where I was by -and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me but pap drove -him off with the gun, and it warn't long after that till I was used to -being where I was, and liked itall but the cowhide part. -It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking -and fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and -my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn't see how I'd ever got -to like it so well at the widow's, where you had to wash, and eat on a -plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be forever -bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all the -time. I didn't want to go back no more. I had stopped cussing, because -the widow didn't like it but now I took to it again because pap hadn't -no objections. It was pretty good times up in the woods there, take it -all around. -But by and by pap got too handy with his hick'ry, and I couldn't stand -it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too, and locking -me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days. It was dreadful -lonesome. I judged he had got drowned, and I wasn't ever going to get -out any more. I was scared. I made up my mind I would fix up some way -to leave there. I had tried to get out of that cabin many a time, but I -couldn't find no way. There warn't a window to it big enough for a dog -to get through. I couldn't get up the chimbly it was too narrow. The -door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty careful not to leave a -knife or anything in the cabin when he was away I reckon I had hunted -the place over as much as a hundred times well, I was most all the time -at it, because it was about the only way to put in the time. But this -time I found something at last I found an old rusty woodsaw without any -handle it was laid in between a rafter and the clapboards of the roof. -I greased it up and went to work. There was an old horseblanket nailed -against the logs at the far end of the cabin behind the table, to keep -the wind from blowing through the chinks and putting the candle out. I -got under the table and raised the blanket, and went to work to saw a -section of the big bottom log outbig enough to let me through. Well, -it was a good long job, but I was getting towards the end of it when I -heard pap's gun in the woods. I got rid of the signs of my work, and -dropped the blanket and hid my saw, and pretty soon pap come in. -Pap warn't in a good humorso he was his natural self. He said he was -down town, and everything was going wrong. His lawyer said he reckoned -he would win his lawsuit and get the money if they ever got started on -the trial but then there was ways to put it off a long time, and Judge -Thatcher knowed how to do it. And he said people allowed there'd be -another trial to get me away from him and give me to the widow for my -guardian, and they guessed it would win this time. This shook me up -considerable, because I didn't want to go back to the widow's any more -and be so cramped up and sivilized, as they called it. Then the old man -got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, -and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn't skipped any, -and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, -including a considerable parcel of people which he didn't know the names -of, and so called them what'shisname when he got to them, and went -right along with his cussing. -He said he would like to see the widow get me. He said he would watch -out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a place -six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they -dropped and they couldn't find me. That made me pretty uneasy again, but -only for a minute I reckoned I wouldn't stay on hand till he got that -chance. -The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had got. -There was a fiftypound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, -ammunition, and a fourgallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two -newspapers for wadding, besides some tow. I toted up a load, and went -back and set down on the bow of the skiff to rest. I thought it all -over, and I reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and -take to the woods when I run away. I guessed I wouldn't stay in one -place, but just tramp right across the country, mostly night times, and -hunt and fish to keep alive, and so get so far away that the old man nor -the widow couldn't ever find me any more. I judged I would saw out and -leave that night if pap got drunk enough, and I reckoned he would. I got -so full of it I didn't notice how long I was staying till the old man -hollered and asked me whether I was asleep or drownded. -I got the things all up to the cabin, and then it was about dark. While -I was cooking supper the old man took a swig or two and got sort of -warmed up, and went to ripping again. He had been drunk over in town, -and laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body -would a thought he was Adamhe was just all mud. Whenever his liquor -begun to work he most always went for the govment, this time he says -"Call this a govment why, just look at it and see what it's like. -Here's the law astanding ready to take a man's son away from hima -man's own son, which he has had all the trouble and all the anxiety and -all the expense of raising. Yes, just as that man has got that son -raised at last, and ready to go to work and begin to do suthin' for HIM -and give him a rest, the law up and goes for him. And they call THAT -govment That ain't all, nuther. The law backs that old Judge Thatcher -up and helps him to keep me out o' my property. Here's what the law -does The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and up'ards, and -jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets him go round in -clothes that ain't fitten for a hog. They call that govment A man can't -get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I've a mighty notion to -just leave the country for good and all. Yes, and I TOLD 'em so I told -old Thatcher so to his face. Lots of 'em heard me, and can tell what I -said. Says I, for two cents I'd leave the blamed country and never come -anear it agin. Them's the very words. I says look at my hatif you -call it a hatbut the lid raises up and the rest of it goes down till -it's below my chin, and then it ain't rightly a hat at all, but more like -my head was shoved up through a jint o' stovepipe. Look at it, says I -such a hat for me to wearone of the wealthiest men in this town if I -could git my rights. -"Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky here. -There was a free nigger there from Ohioa mulatter, most as white as a -white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the -shiniest hat and there ain't a man in that town that's got as fine -clothes as what he had and he had a gold watch and chain, and a -silverheaded canethe awfulest old grayheaded nabob in the State. And -what do you think? They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could -talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the -wust. They said he could VOTE when he was at home. Well, that let me -out. Thinks I, what is the country acoming to? It was 'lection day, and -I was just about to go and vote myself if I warn't too drunk to get -there but when they told me there was a State in this country where -they'd let that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I'll never vote agin. -Them's the very words I said they all heard me and the country may rot -for all meI'll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see the cool -way of that niggerwhy, he wouldn't a give me the road if I hadn't -shoved him out o' the way. I says to the people, why ain't this nigger -put up at auction and sold?that's what I want to know. And what do you -reckon they said? Why, they said he couldn't be sold till he'd been in -the State six months, and he hadn't been there that long yet. There, -nowthat's a specimen. They call that a govment that can't sell a free -nigger till he's been in the State six months. Here's a govment that -calls itself a govment, and lets on to be a govment, and thinks it is a -govment, and yet's got to set stockstill for six whole months before it -can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal, whiteshirted free -nigger, and" -Pap was agoing on so he never noticed where his old limber legs was -taking him to, so he went head over heels over the tub of salt pork and -barked both shins, and the rest of his speech was all the hottest kind of -languagemostly hove at the nigger and the govment, though he give the -tub some, too, all along, here and there. He hopped around the cabin -considerable, first on one leg and then on the other, holding first one -shin and then the other one, and at last he let out with his left foot -all of a sudden and fetched the tub a rattling kick. But it warn't good -judgment, because that was the boot that had a couple of his toes leaking -out of the front end of it so now he raised a howl that fairly made a -body's hair raise, and down he went in the dirt, and rolled there, and -held his toes and the cussing he done then laid over anything he had -ever done previous. He said so his own self afterwards. He had heard -old Sowberry Hagan in his best days, and he said it laid over him, too -but I reckon that was sort of piling it on, maybe. -After supper pap took the jug, and said he had enough whisky there for -two drunks and one delirium tremens. That was always his word. I judged -he would be blind drunk in about an hour, and then I would steal the key, -or saw myself out, one or t'other. He drank and drank, and tumbled down -on his blankets by and by but luck didn't run my way. He didn't go -sound asleep, but was uneasy. He groaned and moaned and thrashed around -this way and that for a long time. At last I got so sleepy I couldn't -keep my eyes open all I could do, and so before I knowed what I was about -I was sound asleep, and the candle burning. -I don't know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an -awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping -around every which way and yelling about snakes. He said they was -crawling up his legs and then he would give a jump and scream, and say -one had bit him on the cheekbut I couldn't see no snakes. He started -and run round and round the cabin, hollering "Take him off take him off -he's biting me on the neck" I never see a man look so wild in the eyes. -Pretty soon he was all fagged out, and fell down panting then he rolled -over and over wonderful fast, kicking things every which way, and -striking and grabbing at the air with his hands, and screaming and saying -there was devils ahold of him. He wore out by and by, and laid still a -while, moaning. Then he laid stiller, and didn't make a sound. I could -hear the owls and the wolves away off in the woods, and it seemed -terrible still. He was laying over by the corner. By and by he raised up -part way and listened, with his head to one side. He says, very low -"Tramptramptramp that's the dead tramptramptramp they're -coming after me but I won't go. Oh, they're here don't touch me -don't hands offthey're cold let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone" -Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him -alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the -old pine table, still abegging and then he went to crying. I could -hear him through the blanket. -By and by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he -see me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a -claspknife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me, -and then I couldn't come for him no more. I begged, and told him I was -only Huck but he laughed SUCH a screechy laugh, and roared and cussed, -and kept on chasing me up. Once when I turned short and dodged under his -arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket between my shoulders, and I -thought I was gone but I slid out of the jacket quick as lightning, and -saved myself. Pretty soon he was all tired out, and dropped down with his -back against the door, and said he would rest a minute and then kill me. -He put his knife under him, and said he would sleep and get strong, and -then he would see who was who. -So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old splitbottom chair -and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down the -gun. I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded, then I -laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set down -behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the time did -drag along. -CHAPTER VII. -"GIT up What you 'bout?" -I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was. It -was after sunup, and I had been sound asleep. Pap was standing over me -looking sour and sick, too. He says -"What you doin' with this gun?" -I judged he didn't know nothing about what he had been doing, so I says -"Somebody tried to get in, so I was laying for him." -"Why didn't you roust me out?" -"Well, I tried to, but I couldn't I couldn't budge you." -"Well, all right. Don't stand there palavering all day, but out with you -and see if there's a fish on the lines for breakfast. I'll be along in a -minute." -He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the riverbank. I noticed -some pieces of limbs and such things floating down, and a sprinkling of -bark so I knowed the river had begun to rise. I reckoned I would have -great times now if I was over at the town. The June rise used to be -always luck for me because as soon as that rise begins here comes -cordwood floating down, and pieces of log raftssometimes a dozen logs -together so all you have to do is to catch them and sell them to the -woodyards and the sawmill. -I went along up the bank with one eye out for pap and t'other one out for -what the rise might fetch along. Well, all at once here comes a canoe -just a beauty, too, about thirteen or fourteen foot long, riding high -like a duck. I shot headfirst off of the bank like a frog, clothes and -all on, and struck out for the canoe. I just expected there'd be -somebody laying down in it, because people often done that to fool folks, -and when a chap had pulled a skiff out most to it they'd raise up and -laugh at him. But it warn't so this time. It was a driftcanoe sure -enough, and I clumb in and paddled her ashore. Thinks I, the old man -will be glad when he sees thisshe's worth ten dollars. But when I -got to shore pap wasn't in sight yet, and as I was running her into a -little creek like a gully, all hung over with vines and willows, I struck -another idea I judged I'd hide her good, and then, 'stead of taking to -the woods when I run off, I'd go down the river about fifty mile and camp -in one place for good, and not have such a rough time tramping on foot. -It was pretty close to the shanty, and I thought I heard the old man -coming all the time but I got her hid and then I out and looked around -a bunch of willows, and there was the old man down the path a piece just -drawing a bead on a bird with his gun. So he hadn't seen anything. -When he got along I was hard at it taking up a "trot" line. He abused me -a little for being so slow but I told him I fell in the river, and that -was what made me so long. I knowed he would see I was wet, and then he -would be asking questions. We got five catfish off the lines and went -home. -While we laid off after breakfast to sleep up, both of us being about -wore out, I got to thinking that if I could fix up some way to keep pap -and the widow from trying to follow me, it would be a certainer thing -than trusting to luck to get far enough off before they missed me you -see, all kinds of things might happen. Well, I didn't see no way for a -while, but by and by pap raised up a minute to drink another barrel of -water, and he says -"Another time a man comes aprowling round here you roust me out, you -hear? That man warn't here for no good. I'd a shot him. Next time you -roust me out, you hear?" -Then he dropped down and went to sleep again but what he had been saying -give me the very idea I wanted. I says to myself, I can fix it now so -nobody won't think of following me. -About twelve o'clock we turned out and went along up the bank. The river -was coming up pretty fast, and lots of driftwood going by on the rise. -By and by along comes part of a log raftnine logs fast together. We -went out with the skiff and towed it ashore. Then we had dinner. -Anybody but pap would a waited and seen the day through, so as to catch -more stuff but that warn't pap's style. Nine logs was enough for one -time he must shove right over to town and sell. So he locked me in and -took the skiff, and started off towing the raft about halfpast three. I -judged he wouldn't come back that night. I waited till I reckoned he had -got a good start then I out with my saw, and went to work on that log -again. Before he was t'other side of the river I was out of the hole -him and his raft was just a speck on the water away off yonder. -I took the sack of corn meal and took it to where the canoe was hid, and -shoved the vines and branches apart and put it in then I done the same -with the side of bacon then the whiskyjug. I took all the coffee and -sugar there was, and all the ammunition I took the wadding I took the -bucket and gourd I took a dipper and a tin cup, and my old saw and two -blankets, and the skillet and the coffeepot. I took fishlines and -matches and other thingseverything that was worth a cent. I cleaned -out the place. I wanted an axe, but there wasn't any, only the one out -at the woodpile, and I knowed why I was going to leave that. I fetched -out the gun, and now I was done. -I had wore the ground a good deal crawling out of the hole and dragging -out so many things. So I fixed that as good as I could from the outside -by scattering dust on the place, which covered up the smoothness and the -sawdust. Then I fixed the piece of log back into its place, and put two -rocks under it and one against it to hold it there, for it was bent up at -that place and didn't quite touch ground. If you stood four or five foot -away and didn't know it was sawed, you wouldn't never notice it and -besides, this was the back of the cabin, and it warn't likely anybody -would go fooling around there. -It was all grass clear to the canoe, so I hadn't left a track. I -followed around to see. I stood on the bank and looked out over the -river. All safe. So I took the gun and went up a piece into the woods, -and was hunting around for some birds when I see a wild pig hogs soon -went wild in them bottoms after they had got away from the prairie farms. -I shot this fellow and took him into camp. -I took the axe and smashed in the door. I beat it and hacked it -considerable adoing it. I fetched the pig in, and took him back nearly -to the table and hacked into his throat with the axe, and laid him down -on the ground to bleed I say ground because it was groundhard packed, -and no boards. Well, next I took an old sack and put a lot of big rocks -in itall I could dragand I started it from the pig, and dragged it -to the door and through the woods down to the river and dumped it in, and -down it sunk, out of sight. You could easy see that something had been -dragged over the ground. I did wish Tom Sawyer was there I knowed he -would take an interest in this kind of business, and throw in the fancy -touches. Nobody could spread himself like Tom Sawyer in such a thing as -that. -Well, last I pulled out some of my hair, and blooded the axe good, and -stuck it on the back side, and slung the axe in the corner. Then I took -up the pig and held him to my breast with my jacket so he couldn't drip -till I got a good piece below the house and then dumped him into the -river. Now I thought of something else. So I went and got the bag of -meal and my old saw out of the canoe, and fetched them to the house. I -took the bag to where it used to stand, and ripped a hole in the bottom -of it with the saw, for there warn't no knives and forks on the place -pap done everything with his claspknife about the cooking. Then I -carried the sack about a hundred yards across the grass and through the -willows east of the house, to a shallow lake that was five mile wide and -full of rushesand ducks too, you might say, in the season. There was a -slough or a creek leading out of it on the other side that went miles -away, I don't know where, but it didn't go to the river. The meal sifted -out and made a little track all the way to the lake. I dropped pap's -whetstone there too, so as to look like it had been done by accident. -Then I tied up the rip in the meal sack with a string, so it wouldn't -leak no more, and took it and my saw to the canoe again. -It was about dark now so I dropped the canoe down the river under some -willows that hung over the bank, and waited for the moon to rise. I made -fast to a willow then I took a bite to eat, and by and by laid down in -the canoe to smoke a pipe and lay out a plan. I says to myself, they'll -follow the track of that sackful of rocks to the shore and then drag the -river for me. And they'll follow that meal track to the lake and go -browsing down the creek that leads out of it to find the robbers that -killed me and took the things. They won't ever hunt the river for -anything but my dead carcass. They'll soon get tired of that, and won't -bother no more about me. All right I can stop anywhere I want to. -Jackson's Island is good enough for me I know that island pretty well, -and nobody ever comes there. And then I can paddle over to town nights, -and slink around and pick up things I want. Jackson's Island's the place. -I was pretty tired, and the first thing I knowed I was asleep. When I -woke up I didn't know where I was for a minute. I set up and looked -around, a little scared. Then I remembered. The river looked miles and -miles across. The moon was so bright I could a counted the drift logs -that went aslipping along, black and still, hundreds of yards out from -shore. Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and SMELT late. -You know what I meanI don't know the words to put it in. -I took a good gap and a stretch, and was just going to unhitch and start -when I heard a sound away over the water. I listened. Pretty soon I -made it out. It was that dull kind of a regular sound that comes from -oars working in rowlocks when it's a still night. I peeped out through -the willow branches, and there it wasa skiff, away across the water. I -couldn't tell how many was in it. It kept acoming, and when it was -abreast of me I see there warn't but one man in it. Think's I, maybe -it's pap, though I warn't expecting him. He dropped below me with the -current, and by and by he came aswinging up shore in the easy water, and -he went by so close I could a reached out the gun and touched him. Well, -it WAS pap, sure enoughand sober, too, by the way he laid his oars. -I didn't lose no time. The next minute I was aspinning down stream soft -but quick in the shade of the bank. I made two mile and a half, and then -struck out a quarter of a mile or more towards the middle of the river, -because pretty soon I would be passing the ferry landing, and people -might see me and hail me. I got out amongst the driftwood, and then laid -down in the bottom of the canoe and let her float. I laid there, and had -a good rest and a smoke out of my pipe, looking away into the sky not a -cloud in it. The sky looks ever so deep when you lay down on your back -in the moonshine I never knowed it before. And how far a body can hear -on the water such nights I heard people talking at the ferry landing. -I heard what they said, tooevery word of it. One man said it was -getting towards the long days and the short nights now. T'other one said -THIS warn't one of the short ones, he reckonedand then they laughed, -and he said it over again, and they laughed again then they waked up -another fellow and told him, and laughed, but he didn't laugh he ripped -out something brisk, and said let him alone. The first fellow said he -'lowed to tell it to his old womanshe would think it was pretty good -but he said that warn't nothing to some things he had said in his time. -I heard one man say it was nearly three o'clock, and he hoped daylight -wouldn't wait more than about a week longer. After that the talk got -further and further away, and I couldn't make out the words any more but -I could hear the mumble, and now and then a laugh, too, but it seemed a -long ways off. -I was away below the ferry now. I rose up, and there was Jackson's -Island, about two mile and a half down stream, heavy timbered and -standing up out of the middle of the river, big and dark and solid, like -a steamboat without any lights. There warn't any signs of the bar at the -headit was all under water now. -It didn't take me long to get there. I shot past the head at a ripping -rate, the current was so swift, and then I got into the dead water and -landed on the side towards the Illinois shore. I run the canoe into a -deep dent in the bank that I knowed about I had to part the willow -branches to get in and when I made fast nobody could a seen the canoe -from the outside. -I went up and set down on a log at the head of the island, and looked out -on the big river and the black driftwood and away over to the town, three -mile away, where there was three or four lights twinkling. A monstrous -big lumberraft was about a mile up stream, coming along down, with a -lantern in the middle of it. I watched it come creeping down, and when -it was most abreast of where I stood I heard a man say, "Stern oars, -there heave her head to stabboard" I heard that just as plain as if -the man was by my side. -There was a little gray in the sky now so I stepped into the woods, and -laid down for a nap before breakfast. -CHAPTER VIII. -THE sun was up so high when I waked that I judged it was after eight -o'clock. I laid there in the grass and the cool shade thinking about -things, and feeling rested and ruther comfortable and satisfied. I could -see the sun out at one or two holes, but mostly it was big trees all -about, and gloomy in there amongst them. There was freckled places on -the ground where the light sifted down through the leaves, and the -freckled places swapped about a little, showing there was a little breeze -up there. A couple of squirrels set on a limb and jabbered at me very -friendly. -I was powerful lazy and comfortabledidn't want to get up and cook -breakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deep -sound of "boom" away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbow -and listens pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went and -looked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke laying on -the water a long ways upabout abreast the ferry. And there was the -ferryboat full of people floating along down. I knowed what was the -matter now. "Boom" I see the white smoke squirt out of the ferryboat's -side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water, trying to make my -carcass come to the top. -I was pretty hungry, but it warn't going to do for me to start a fire, -because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched the -cannonsmoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile wide there, -and it always looks pretty on a summer morningso I was having a good -enough time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had a bite to -eat. Well, then I happened to think how they always put quicksilver in -loaves of bread and float them off, because they always go right to the -drownded carcass and stop there. So, says I, I'll keep a lookout, and if -any of them's floating around after me I'll give them a show. I changed -to the Illinois edge of the island to see what luck I could have, and I -warn't disappointed. A big double loaf come along, and I most got it -with a long stick, but my foot slipped and she floated out further. Of -course I was where the current set in the closest to the shoreI knowed -enough for that. But by and by along comes another one, and this time I -won. I took out the plug and shook out the little dab of quicksilver, -and set my teeth in. It was "baker's bread"what the quality eat none -of your lowdown cornpone. -I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log, munching -the bread and watching the ferryboat, and very well satisfied. And then -something struck me. I says, now I reckon the widow or the parson or -somebody prayed that this bread would find me, and here it has gone and -done it. So there ain't no doubt but there is something in that thing -that is, there's something in it when a body like the widow or the parson -prays, but it don't work for me, and I reckon it don't work for only just -the right kind. -I lit a pipe and had a good long smoke, and went on watching. The -ferryboat was floating with the current, and I allowed I'd have a chance -to see who was aboard when she come along, because she would come in -close, where the bread did. When she'd got pretty well along down -towards me, I put out my pipe and went to where I fished out the bread, -and laid down behind a log on the bank in a little open place. Where the -log forked I could peep through. -By and by she come along, and she drifted in so close that they could a -run out a plank and walked ashore. Most everybody was on the boat. Pap, -and Judge Thatcher, and Bessie Thatcher, and Jo Harper, and Tom Sawyer, -and his old Aunt Polly, and Sid and Mary, and plenty more. Everybody was -talking about the murder, but the captain broke in and says -"Look sharp, now the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he's -washed ashore and got tangled amongst the brush at the water's edge. I -hope so, anyway." -"I didn't hope so. They all crowded up and leaned over the rails, nearly -in my face, and kept still, watching with all their might. I could see -them firstrate, but they couldn't see me. Then the captain sung out -"Stand away" and the cannon let off such a blast right before me that it -made me deef with the noise and pretty near blind with the smoke, and I -judged I was gone. If they'd a had some bullets in, I reckon they'd a -got the corpse they was after. Well, I see I warn't hurt, thanks to -goodness. The boat floated on and went out of sight around the shoulder -of the island. I could hear the booming now and then, further and -further off, and by and by, after an hour, I didn't hear it no more. The -island was three mile long. I judged they had got to the foot, and was -giving it up. But they didn't yet a while. They turned around the foot -of the island and started up the channel on the Missouri side, under -steam, and booming once in a while as they went. I crossed over to that -side and watched them. When they got abreast the head of the island they -quit shooting and dropped over to the Missouri shore and went home to the -town. -I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come ahunting after me. -I got my traps out of the canoe and made me a nice camp in the thick -woods. I made a kind of a tent out of my blankets to put my things under -so the rain couldn't get at them. I catched a catfish and haggled him -open with my saw, and towards sundown I started my camp fire and had -supper. Then I set out a line to catch some fish for breakfast. -When it was dark I set by my camp fire smoking, and feeling pretty well -satisfied but by and by it got sort of lonesome, and so I went and set -on the bank and listened to the current swashing along, and counted the -stars and drift logs and rafts that come down, and then went to bed -there ain't no better way to put in time when you are lonesome you can't -stay so, you soon get over it. -And so for three days and nights. No differencejust the same thing. -But the next day I went exploring around down through the island. I was -boss of it it all belonged to me, so to say, and I wanted to know all -about it but mainly I wanted to put in the time. I found plenty -strawberries, ripe and prime and green summer grapes, and green -razberries and the green blackberries was just beginning to show. They -would all come handy by and by, I judged. -Well, I went fooling along in the deep woods till I judged I warn't far -from the foot of the island. I had my gun along, but I hadn't shot -nothing it was for protection thought I would kill some game nigh home. -About this time I mighty near stepped on a goodsized snake, and it went -sliding off through the grass and flowers, and I after it, trying to get -a shot at it. I clipped along, and all of a sudden I bounded right on to -the ashes of a camp fire that was still smoking. -My heart jumped up amongst my lungs. I never waited for to look further, -but uncocked my gun and went sneaking back on my tiptoes as fast as ever -I could. Every now and then I stopped a second amongst the thick leaves -and listened, but my breath come so hard I couldn't hear nothing else. I -slunk along another piece further, then listened again and so on, and so -on. If I see a stump, I took it for a man if I trod on a stick and -broke it, it made me feel like a person had cut one of my breaths in two -and I only got half, and the short half, too. -When I got to camp I warn't feeling very brash, there warn't much sand in -my craw but I says, this ain't no time to be fooling around. So I got -all my traps into my canoe again so as to have them out of sight, and I -put out the fire and scattered the ashes around to look like an old last -year's camp, and then clumb a tree. -I reckon I was up in the tree two hours but I didn't see nothing, I -didn't hear nothingI only THOUGHT I heard and seen as much as a -thousand things. Well, I couldn't stay up there forever so at last I -got down, but I kept in the thick woods and on the lookout all the time. -All I could get to eat was berries and what was left over from breakfast. -By the time it was night I was pretty hungry. So when it was good and -dark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to the -Illinois bankabout a quarter of a mile. I went out in the woods and -cooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay there all -night when I hear a PLUNKETYPLUNK, PLUNKETYPLUNK, and says to myself, -horses coming and next I hear people's voices. I got everything into -the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creeping through the woods -to see what I could find out. I hadn't got far when I hear a man say -"We better camp here if we can find a good place the horses is about -beat out. Let's look around." -I didn't wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy. I tied up in the -old place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe. -I didn't sleep much. I couldn't, somehow, for thinking. And every time -I waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck. So the sleep didn't do -me no good. By and by I says to myself, I can't live this way I'm -agoing to find out who it is that's here on the island with me I'll -find it out or bust. Well, I felt better right off. -So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, and then -let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows. The moon was shining, -and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day. I poked -along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and sound asleep. -Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island. A little -ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good as saying the -night was about done. I give her a turn with the paddle and brung her -nose to shore then I got my gun and slipped out and into the edge of the -woods. I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the leaves. I -see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket the river. -But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, and knowed -the day was coming. So I took my gun and slipped off towards where I had -run across that camp fire, stopping every minute or two to listen. But I -hadn't no luck somehow I couldn't seem to find the place. But by and -by, sure enough, I catched a glimpse of fire away through the trees. I -went for it, cautious and slow. By and by I was close enough to have a -look, and there laid a man on the ground. It most give me the fantods. -He had a blanket around his head, and his head was nearly in the fire. I -set there behind a clump of bushes in about six foot of him, and kept my -eyes on him steady. It was getting gray daylight now. Pretty soon he -gapped and stretched himself and hove off the blanket, and it was Miss -Watson's Jim I bet I was glad to see him. I says -"Hello, Jim" and skipped out. -He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, -and puts his hands together and says -"Doan' hurt medon't I hain't ever done no harm to a ghos'. I alwuz -liked dead people, en done all I could for 'em. You go en git in de -river agin, whah you b'longs, en doan' do nuffn to Ole Jim, 'at 'uz awluz -yo' fren'." -Well, I warn't long making him understand I warn't dead. I was ever so -glad to see Jim. I warn't lonesome now. I told him I warn't afraid of -HIM telling the people where I was. I talked along, but he only set -there and looked at me never said nothing. Then I says -"It's good daylight. Le's get breakfast. Make up your camp fire good." -"What's de use er makin' up de camp fire to cook strawbries en sich -truck? But you got a gun, hain't you? Den we kin git sumfn better den -strawbries." -"Strawberries and such truck," I says. "Is that what you live on?" -"I couldn' git nuffn else," he says. -"Why, how long you been on the island, Jim?" -"I come heah de night arter you's killed." -"What, all that time?" -"Yesindeedy." -"And ain't you had nothing but that kind of rubbage to eat?" -"No, sahnuffn else." -"Well, you must be most starved, ain't you?" -"I reck'n I could eat a hoss. I think I could. How long you ben on de -islan'?" -"Since the night I got killed." -"No W'y, what has you lived on? But you got a gun. Oh, yes, you got a -gun. Dat's good. Now you kill sumfn en I'll make up de fire." -So we went over to where the canoe was, and while he built a fire in a -grassy open place amongst the trees, I fetched meal and bacon and coffee, -and coffeepot and fryingpan, and sugar and tin cups, and the nigger was -set back considerable, because he reckoned it was all done with -witchcraft. I catched a good big catfish, too, and Jim cleaned him with -his knife, and fried him. -When breakfast was ready we lolled on the grass and eat it smoking hot. -Jim laid it in with all his might, for he was most about starved. Then -when we had got pretty well stuffed, we laid off and lazied. By and by -Jim says -"But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat 'uz killed in dat shanty ef it -warn't you?" -Then I told him the whole thing, and he said it was smart. He said Tom -Sawyer couldn't get up no better plan than what I had. Then I says -"How do you come to be here, Jim, and how'd you get here?" -He looked pretty uneasy, and didn't say nothing for a minute. Then he -says -"Maybe I better not tell." -"Why, Jim?" -"Well, dey's reasons. But you wouldn' tell on me ef I uz to tell you, -would you, Huck?" -"Blamed if I would, Jim." -"Well, I b'lieve you, Huck. II RUN OFF." -"Jim" -"But mind, you said you wouldn' tellyou know you said you wouldn' tell, -Huck." -"Well, I did. I said I wouldn't, and I'll stick to it. Honest INJUN, I -will. People would call me a lowdown Abolitionist and despise me for -keeping mumbut that don't make no difference. I ain't agoing to tell, -and I ain't agoing back there, anyways. So, now, le's know all about -it." -"Well, you see, it 'uz dis way. Ole missusdat's Miss Watsonshe pecks -on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she -wouldn' sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a nigger trader -roun' de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy. Well, one -night I creeps to de do' pooty late, en de do' warn't quite shet, en I -hear old missus tell de widder she gwyne to sell me down to Orleans, but -she didn' want to, but she could git eight hund'd dollars for me, en it -'uz sich a big stack o' money she couldn' resis'. De widder she try to -git her to say she wouldn' do it, but I never waited to hear de res'. I -lit out mighty quick, I tell you. -"I tuck out en shin down de hill, en 'spec to steal a skift 'long de sho' -som'ers 'bove de town, but dey wuz people astirring yit, so I hid in de -ole tumbledown coopershop on de bank to wait for everybody to go 'way. -Well, I wuz dah all night. Dey wuz somebody roun' all de time. 'Long -'bout six in de mawnin' skifts begin to go by, en 'bout eight er nine -every skift dat went 'long wuz talkin' 'bout how yo' pap come over to de -town en say you's killed. Dese las' skifts wuz full o' ladies en genlmen -agoin' over for to see de place. Sometimes dey'd pull up at de sho' en -take a res' b'fo' dey started acrost, so by de talk I got to know all -'bout de killin'. I 'uz powerful sorry you's killed, Huck, but I ain't -no mo' now. -"I laid dah under de shavin's all day. I 'uz hungry, but I warn't -afeard bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin' to start to de -campmeet'n' right arter breakfas' en be gone all day, en dey knows I -goes off wid de cattle 'bout daylight, so dey wouldn' 'spec to see me -roun' de place, en so dey wouldn' miss me tell arter dark in de evenin'. -De yuther servants wouldn' miss me, kase dey'd shin out en take holiday -soon as de ole folks 'uz out'n de way. -"Well, when it come dark I tuck out up de river road, en went 'bout two -mile er more to whah dey warn't no houses. I'd made up my mine 'bout -what I's agwyne to do. You see, ef I kep' on tryin' to git away afoot, -de dogs 'ud track me ef I stole a skift to cross over, dey'd miss dat -skift, you see, en dey'd know 'bout whah I'd lan' on de yuther side, en -whah to pick up my track. So I says, a raff is what I's arter it doan' -MAKE no track. -"I see a light acomin' roun' de p'int bymeby, so I wade' in en shove' a -log ahead o' me en swum more'n half way acrost de river, en got in -'mongst de driftwood, en kep' my head down low, en kinder swum agin de -current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it en tuck -aholt. It clouded up en 'uz pooty dark for a little while. So I clumb -up en laid down on de planks. De men 'uz all 'way yonder in de middle, -whah de lantern wuz. De river wuz arisin', en dey wuz a good current -so I reck'n'd 'at by fo' in de mawnin' I'd be twentyfive mile down de -river, en den I'd slip in jis b'fo' daylight en swim asho', en take to -de woods on de Illinois side. -"But I didn' have no luck. When we 'uz mos' down to de head er de islan' -a man begin to come aft wid de lantern, I see it warn't no use fer to -wait, so I slid overboard en struck out fer de islan'. Well, I had a -notion I could lan' mos' anywhers, but I couldn'tbank too bluff. I 'uz -mos' to de foot er de islan' b'fo' I found' a good place. I went into de -woods en jedged I wouldn' fool wid raffs no mo', long as dey move de -lantern roun' so. I had my pipe en a plug er dogleg, en some matches in -my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all right." -"And so you ain't had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Why didn't -you get mudturkles?" -"How you gwyne to git 'm? You can't slip up on um en grab um en how's a -body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in de night? En -I warn't gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime." -"Well, that's so. You've had to keep in the woods all the time, of -course. Did you hear 'em shooting the cannon?" -"Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heahwatched um -thoo de bushes." -Some young birds come along, flying a yard or two at a time and lighting. -Jim said it was a sign it was going to rain. He said it was a sign when -young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it was the same way when -young birds done it. I was going to catch some of them, but Jim wouldn't -let me. He said it was death. He said his father laid mighty sick once, -and some of them catched a bird, and his old granny said his father would -die, and he did. -And Jim said you mustn't count the things you are going to cook for -dinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook the -tablecloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive and that -man died, the bees must be told about it before sunup next morning, or -else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die. Jim said bees -wouldn't sting idiots but I didn't believe that, because I had tried -them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me. -I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them. Jim -knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. I said it -looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so I asked him if -there warn't any goodluck signs. He says -"Mighty fewan' DEY ain't no use to a body. What you want to know when -good luck's acomin' for? Want to keep it off?" And he said "Ef you's -got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's agwyne to be -rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so fur ahead. -You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so you might git -discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign dat you gwyne to -be rich bymeby." -"Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?" -"What's de use to ax dat question? Don't you see I has?" -"Well, are you rich?" -"No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had foteen -dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en got busted out." -"What did you speculate in, Jim?" -"Well, fust I tackled stock." -"What kind of stock?" -"Why, live stockcattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But I -ain' gwyne to resk no mo' money in stock. De cow up 'n' died on my -han's." -"So you lost the ten dollars." -"No, I didn't lose it all. I on'y los' 'bout nine of it. I sole de hide -en taller for a dollar en ten cents." -"You had five dollars and ten cents left. Did you speculate any more?" -"Yes. You know that onelaigged nigger dat b'longs to old Misto Bradish? -Well, he sot up a bank, en say anybody dat put in a dollar would git fo' -dollars mo' at de en' er de year. Well, all de niggers went in, but dey -didn't have much. I wuz de on'y one dat had much. So I stuck out for -mo' dan fo' dollars, en I said 'f I didn' git it I'd start a bank mysef. -Well, o' course dat nigger want' to keep me out er de business, bekase he -says dey warn't business 'nough for two banks, so he say I could put in -my five dollars en he pay me thirtyfive at de en' er de year. -"So I done it. Den I reck'n'd I'd inves' de thirtyfive dollars right -off en keep things amovin'. Dey wuz a nigger name' Bob, dat had ketched -a woodflat, en his marster didn' know it en I bought it off'n him en -told him to take de thirtyfive dollars when de en' er de year come but -somebody stole de woodflat dat night, en nex day de onelaigged nigger -say de bank's busted. So dey didn' none uv us git no money." -"What did you do with the ten cents, Jim?" -"Well, I 'uz gwyne to spen' it, but I had a dream, en de dream tole me to -give it to a nigger name' BalumBalum's Ass dey call him for short he's -one er dem chuckleheads, you know. But he's lucky, dey say, en I see I -warn't lucky. De dream say let Balum inves' de ten cents en he'd make a -raise for me. Well, Balum he tuck de money, en when he wuz in church he -hear de preacher say dat whoever give to de po' len' to de Lord, en boun' -to git his money back a hund'd times. So Balum he tuck en give de ten -cents to de po', en laid low to see what wuz gwyne to come of it." -"Well, what did come of it, Jim?" -"Nuffn never come of it. I couldn' manage to k'leck dat money no way en -Balum he couldn'. I ain' gwyne to len' no mo' money 'dout I see de -security. Boun' to git yo' money back a hund'd times, de preacher says -Ef I could git de ten CENTS back, I'd call it squah, en be glad er de -chanst." -"Well, it's all right anyway, Jim, long as you're going to be rich again -some time or other." -"Yes en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I's wuth -eight hund'd dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn' want no mo'." -CHAPTER IX. -I WANTED to go and look at a place right about the middle of the island -that I'd found when I was exploring so we started and soon got to it, -because the island was only three miles long and a quarter of a mile -wide. -This place was a tolerable long, steep hill or ridge about forty foot -high. We had a rough time getting to the top, the sides was so steep and -the bushes so thick. We tramped and clumb around all over it, and by and -by found a good big cavern in the rock, most up to the top on the side -towards Illinois. The cavern was as big as two or three rooms bunched -together, and Jim could stand up straight in it. It was cool in there. -Jim was for putting our traps in there right away, but I said we didn't -want to be climbing up and down there all the time. -Jim said if we had the canoe hid in a good place, and had all the traps -in the cavern, we could rush there if anybody was to come to the island, -and they would never find us without dogs. And, besides, he said them -little birds had said it was going to rain, and did I want the things to -get wet? -So we went back and got the canoe, and paddled up abreast the cavern, and -lugged all the traps up there. Then we hunted up a place close by to -hide the canoe in, amongst the thick willows. We took some fish off of -the lines and set them again, and begun to get ready for dinner. -The door of the cavern was big enough to roll a hogshead in, and on one -side of the door the floor stuck out a little bit, and was flat and a -good place to build a fire on. So we built it there and cooked dinner. -We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in there. -We put all the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty soon -it darkened up, and begun to thunder and lighten so the birds was right -about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, too, -and I never see the wind blow so. It was one of these regular summer -storms. It would get so dark that it looked all blueblack outside, and -lovely and the rain would thrash along by so thick that the trees off a -little ways looked dim and spiderwebby and here would come a blast of -wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the pale underside of the -leaves and then a perfect ripper of a gust would follow along and set -the branches to tossing their arms as if they was just wild and next, -when it was just about the bluest and blackestFST it was as bright as -glory, and you'd have a little glimpse of treetops aplunging about away -off yonder in the storm, hundreds of yards further than you could see -before dark as sin again in a second, and now you'd hear the thunder let -go with an awful crash, and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling, down -the sky towards the under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels -down stairswhere it's long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you -know. -"Jim, this is nice," I says. "I wouldn't want to be nowhere else but -here. Pass me along another hunk of fish and some hot cornbread." -"Well, you wouldn't a ben here 'f it hadn't a ben for Jim. You'd a ben -down dah in de woods widout any dinner, en gittn' mos' drownded, too dat -you would, honey. Chickens knows when it's gwyne to rain, en so do de -birds, chile." -The river went on raising and raising for ten or twelve days, till at -last it was over the banks. The water was three or four foot deep on the -island in the low places and on the Illinois bottom. On that side it was -a good many miles wide, but on the Missouri side it was the same old -distance acrossa half a milebecause the Missouri shore was just a -wall of high bluffs. -Daytimes we paddled all over the island in the canoe, It was mighty cool -and shady in the deep woods, even if the sun was blazing outside. We -went winding in and out amongst the trees, and sometimes the vines hung -so thick we had to back away and go some other way. Well, on every old -brokendown tree you could see rabbits and snakes and such things and -when the island had been overflowed a day or two they got so tame, on -account of being hungry, that you could paddle right up and put your hand -on them if you wanted to but not the snakes and turtlesthey would -slide off in the water. The ridge our cavern was in was full of them. -We could a had pets enough if we'd wanted them. -One night we catched a little section of a lumber raftnice pine planks. -It was twelve foot wide and about fifteen or sixteen foot long, and the -top stood above water six or seven inchesa solid, level floor. We -could see sawlogs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go -we didn't show ourselves in daylight. -Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before -daylight, here comes a framehouse down, on the west side. She was a -twostory, and tilted over considerable. We paddled out and got aboard -clumb in at an upstairs window. But it was too dark to see yet, so we -made the canoe fast and set in her to wait for daylight. -The light begun to come before we got to the foot of the island. Then we -looked in at the window. We could make out a bed, and a table, and two -old chairs, and lots of things around about on the floor, and there was -clothes hanging against the wall. There was something laying on the -floor in the far corner that looked like a man. So Jim says -"Hello, you" -But it didn't budge. So I hollered again, and then Jim says -"De man ain't asleephe's dead. You hold stillI'll go en see." -He went, and bent down and looked, and says -"It's a dead man. Yes, indeedy naked, too. He's ben shot in de back. -I reck'n he's ben dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan' look -at his faceit's too gashly." -I didn't look at him at all. Jim throwed some old rags over him, but he -needn't done it I didn't want to see him. There was heaps of old greasy -cards scattered around over the floor, and old whisky bottles, and a -couple of masks made out of black cloth and all over the walls was the -ignorantest kind of words and pictures made with charcoal. There was two -old dirty calico dresses, and a sunbonnet, and some women's underclothes -hanging against the wall, and some men's clothing, too. We put the lot -into the canoeit might come good. There was a boy's old speckled straw -hat on the floor I took that, too. And there was a bottle that had had -milk in it, and it had a rag stopper for a baby to suck. We would a took -the bottle, but it was broke. There was a seedy old chest, and an old -hair trunk with the hinges broke. They stood open, but there warn't -nothing left in them that was any account. The way things was scattered -about we reckoned the people left in a hurry, and warn't fixed so as to -carry off most of their stuff. -We got an old tin lantern, and a butcherknife without any handle, and a -brannew Barlow knife worth two bits in any store, and a lot of tallow -candles, and a tin candlestick, and a gourd, and a tin cup, and a ratty -old bedquilt off the bed, and a reticule with needles and pins and -beeswax and buttons and thread and all such truck in it, and a hatchet -and some nails, and a fishline as thick as my little finger with some -monstrous hooks on it, and a roll of buckskin, and a leather dogcollar, -and a horseshoe, and some vials of medicine that didn't have no label on -them and just as we was leaving I found a tolerable good currycomb, and -Jim he found a ratty old fiddlebow, and a wooden leg. The straps was -broke off of it, but, barring that, it was a good enough leg, though it -was too long for me and not long enough for Jim, and we couldn't find the -other one, though we hunted all around. -And so, take it all around, we made a good haul. When we was ready to -shove off we was a quarter of a mile below the island, and it was pretty -broad day so I made Jim lay down in the canoe and cover up with the -quilt, because if he set up people could tell he was a nigger a good ways -off. I paddled over to the Illinois shore, and drifted down most a half -a mile doing it. I crept up the dead water under the bank, and hadn't no -accidents and didn't see nobody. We got home all safe. -CHAPTER X. -AFTER breakfast I wanted to talk about the dead man and guess out how he -come to be killed, but Jim didn't want to. He said it would fetch bad -luck and besides, he said, he might come and ha'nt us he said a man -that warn't buried was more likely to go aha'nting around than one that -was planted and comfortable. That sounded pretty reasonable, so I didn't -say no more but I couldn't keep from studying over it and wishing I -knowed who shot the man, and what they done it for. -We rummaged the clothes we'd got, and found eight dollars in silver sewed -up in the lining of an old blanket overcoat. Jim said he reckoned the -people in that house stole the coat, because if they'd a knowed the money -was there they wouldn't a left it. I said I reckoned they killed him, -too but Jim didn't want to talk about that. I says -"Now you think it's bad luck but what did you say when I fetched in the -snakeskin that I found on the top of the ridge day before yesterday? -You said it was the worst bad luck in the world to touch a snakeskin -with my hands. Well, here's your bad luck We've raked in all this -truck and eight dollars besides. I wish we could have some bad luck like -this every day, Jim." -"Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don't you git too peart. It's -acomin'. Mind I tell you, it's acomin'." -It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after -dinner Friday we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the -ridge, and got out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to get some, and -found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the -foot of Jim's blanket, ever so natural, thinking there'd be some fun when -Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, and -when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light the -snake's mate was there, and bit him. -He jumped up yelling, and the first thing the light showed was the -varmint curled up and ready for another spring. I laid him out in a -second with a stick, and Jim grabbed pap's whiskyjug and begun to pour -it down. -He was barefooted, and the snake bit him right on the heel. That all -comes of my being such a fool as to not remember that wherever you leave -a dead snake its mate always comes there and curls around it. Jim told -me to chop off the snake's head and throw it away, and then skin the body -and roast a piece of it. I done it, and he eat it and said it would help -cure him. He made me take off the rattles and tie them around his wrist, -too. He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet and throwed -the snakes clear away amongst the bushes for I warn't going to let Jim -find out it was all my fault, not if I could help it. -Jim sucked and sucked at the jug, and now and then he got out of his head -and pitched around and yelled but every time he come to himself he went -to sucking at the jug again. His foot swelled up pretty big, and so did -his leg but by and by the drunk begun to come, and so I judged he was -all right but I'd druther been bit with a snake than pap's whisky. -Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all gone -and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn't ever take aholt -of a snakeskin again with my hands, now that I see what had come of it. -Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. And he said that -handling a snakeskin was such awful bad luck that maybe we hadn't got to -the end of it yet. He said he druther see the new moon over his left -shoulder as much as a thousand times than take up a snakeskin in his -hand. Well, I was getting to feel that way myself, though I've always -reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of -the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker -done it once, and bragged about it and in less than two years he got -drunk and fell off of the shottower, and spread himself out so that he -was just a kind of a layer, as you may say and they slid him edgeways -between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but -I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway it all come of looking at the -moon that way, like a fool. -Well, the days went along, and the river went down between its banks -again and about the first thing we done was to bait one of the big hooks -with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a catfish that was as big as a -man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two hundred pounds. -We couldn't handle him, of course he would a flung us into Illinois. We -just set there and watched him rip and tear around till he drownded. We -found a brass button in his stomach and a round ball, and lots of -rubbage. We split the ball open with the hatchet, and there was a spool -in it. Jim said he'd had it there a long time, to coat it over so and -make a ball of it. It was as big a fish as was ever catched in the -Mississippi, I reckon. Jim said he hadn't ever seen a bigger one. He -would a been worth a good deal over at the village. They peddle out such -a fish as that by the pound in the markethouse there everybody buys -some of him his meat's as white as snow and makes a good fry. -Next morning I said it was getting slow and dull, and I wanted to get a -stirring up some way. I said I reckoned I would slip over the river and -find out what was going on. Jim liked that notion but he said I must go -in the dark and look sharp. Then he studied it over and said, couldn't I -put on some of them old things and dress up like a girl? That was a good -notion, too. So we shortened up one of the calico gowns, and I turned up -my trouserlegs to my knees and got into it. Jim hitched it behind with -the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on the sunbonnet and tied it -under my chin, and then for a body to look in and see my face was like -looking down a joint of stovepipe. Jim said nobody would know me, even -in the daytime, hardly. I practiced around all day to get the hang of -the things, and by and by I could do pretty well in them, only Jim said I -didn't walk like a girl and he said I must quit pulling up my gown to -get at my britchespocket. I took notice, and done better. -I started up the Illinois shore in the canoe just after dark. -I started across to the town from a little below the ferrylanding, and -the drift of the current fetched me in at the bottom of the town. I tied -up and started along the bank. There was a light burning in a little -shanty that hadn't been lived in for a long time, and I wondered who had -took up quarters there. I slipped up and peeped in at the window. There -was a woman about forty year old in there knitting by a candle that was -on a pine table. I didn't know her face she was a stranger, for you -couldn't start a face in that town that I didn't know. Now this was -lucky, because I was weakening I was getting afraid I had come people -might know my voice and find me out. But if this woman had been in such -a little town two days she could tell me all I wanted to know so I -knocked at the door, and made up my mind I wouldn't forget I was a girl. -CHAPTER XI. -"COME in," says the woman, and I did. She says "Take a cheer." -I done it. She looked me all over with her little shiny eyes, and says -"What might your name be?" -"Sarah Williams." -"Where 'bouts do you live? In this neighborhood?' -"No'm. In Hookerville, seven mile below. I've walked all the way and -I'm all tired out." -"Hungry, too, I reckon. I'll find you something." -"No'm, I ain't hungry. I was so hungry I had to stop two miles below -here at a farm so I ain't hungry no more. It's what makes me so late. -My mother's down sick, and out of money and everything, and I come to -tell my uncle Abner Moore. He lives at the upper end of the town, she -says. I hain't ever been here before. Do you know him?" -"No but I don't know everybody yet. I haven't lived here quite two -weeks. It's a considerable ways to the upper end of the town. You better -stay here all night. Take off your bonnet." -"No," I says "I'll rest a while, I reckon, and go on. I ain't afeared -of the dark." -She said she wouldn't let me go by myself, but her husband would be in by -and by, maybe in a hour and a half, and she'd send him along with me. -Then she got to talking about her husband, and about her relations up the -river, and her relations down the river, and about how much better off -they used to was, and how they didn't know but they'd made a mistake -coming to our town, instead of letting well aloneand so on and so on, -till I was afeard I had made a mistake coming to her to find out what was -going on in the town but by and by she dropped on to pap and the murder, -and then I was pretty willing to let her clatter right along. She told -about me and Tom Sawyer finding the six thousand dollars only she got it -ten and all about pap and what a hard lot he was, and what a hard lot I -was, and at last she got down to where I was murdered. I says -"Who done it? We've heard considerable about these goings on down in -Hookerville, but we don't know who 'twas that killed Huck Finn." -"Well, I reckon there's a right smart chance of people HERE that'd like -to know who killed him. Some think old Finn done it himself." -"Nois that so?" -"Most everybody thought it at first. He'll never know how nigh he come -to getting lynched. But before night they changed around and judged it -was done by a runaway nigger named Jim." -"Why HE" -I stopped. I reckoned I better keep still. She run on, and never -noticed I had put in at all -"The nigger run off the very night Huck Finn was killed. So there's a -reward out for himthree hundred dollars. And there's a reward out for -old Finn, tootwo hundred dollars. You see, he come to town the morning -after the murder, and told about it, and was out with 'em on the -ferryboat hunt, and right away after he up and left. Before night they -wanted to lynch him, but he was gone, you see. Well, next day they found -out the nigger was gone they found out he hadn't ben seen sence ten -o'clock the night the murder was done. So then they put it on him, you -see and while they was full of it, next day, back comes old Finn, and -went boohooing to Judge Thatcher to get money to hunt for the nigger all -over Illinois with. The judge gave him some, and that evening he got -drunk, and was around till after midnight with a couple of mighty -hardlooking strangers, and then went off with them. Well, he hain't -come back sence, and they ain't looking for him back till this thing -blows over a little, for people thinks now that he killed his boy and -fixed things so folks would think robbers done it, and then he'd get -Huck's money without having to bother a long time with a lawsuit. People -do say he warn't any too good to do it. Oh, he's sly, I reckon. If he -don't come back for a year he'll be all right. You can't prove anything -on him, you know everything will be quieted down then, and he'll walk in -Huck's money as easy as nothing." -"Yes, I reckon so, 'm. I don't see nothing in the way of it. Has -everybody quit thinking the nigger done it?" -"Oh, no, not everybody. A good many thinks he done it. But they'll get -the nigger pretty soon now, and maybe they can scare it out of him." -"Why, are they after him yet?" -"Well, you're innocent, ain't you Does three hundred dollars lay around -every day for people to pick up? Some folks think the nigger ain't far -from here. I'm one of thembut I hain't talked it around. A few days -ago I was talking with an old couple that lives next door in the log -shanty, and they happened to say hardly anybody ever goes to that island -over yonder that they call Jackson's Island. Don't anybody live there? -says I. No, nobody, says they. I didn't say any more, but I done some -thinking. I was pretty near certain I'd seen smoke over there, about the -head of the island, a day or two before that, so I says to myself, like -as not that nigger's hiding over there anyway, says I, it's worth the -trouble to give the place a hunt. I hain't seen any smoke sence, so I -reckon maybe he's gone, if it was him but husband's going over to see -him and another man. He was gone up the river but he got back today, -and I told him as soon as he got here two hours ago." -I had got so uneasy I couldn't set still. I had to do something with my -hands so I took up a needle off of the table and went to threading it. -My hands shook, and I was making a bad job of it. When the woman stopped -talking I looked up, and she was looking at me pretty curious and smiling -a little. I put down the needle and thread, and let on to be interested -and I was, tooand says -"Three hundred dollars is a power of money. I wish my mother could get -it. Is your husband going over there tonight?" -"Oh, yes. He went uptown with the man I was telling you of, to get a -boat and see if they could borrow another gun. They'll go over after -midnight." -"Couldn't they see better if they was to wait till daytime?" -"Yes. And couldn't the nigger see better, too? After midnight he'll -likely be asleep, and they can slip around through the woods and hunt up -his camp fire all the better for the dark, if he's got one." -"I didn't think of that." -The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn't feel a bit -comfortable. Pretty soon she says, -"What did you say your name was, honey?" -"MMary Williams." -Somehow it didn't seem to me that I said it was Mary before, so I didn't -look upseemed to me I said it was Sarah so I felt sort of cornered, -and was afeared maybe I was looking it, too. I wished the woman would -say something more the longer she set still the uneasier I was. But now -she says -"Honey, I thought you said it was Sarah when you first come in?" -"Oh, yes'm, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah's my first name. Some -calls me Sarah, some calls me Mary." -"Oh, that's the way of it?" -"Yes'm." -I was feeling better then, but I wished I was out of there, anyway. I -couldn't look up yet. -Well, the woman fell to talking about how hard times was, and how poor -they had to live, and how the rats was as free as if they owned the -place, and so forth and so on, and then I got easy again. She was right -about the rats. You'd see one stick his nose out of a hole in the corner -every little while. She said she had to have things handy to throw at -them when she was alone, or they wouldn't give her no peace. She showed -me a bar of lead twisted up into a knot, and said she was a good shot -with it generly, but she'd wrenched her arm a day or two ago, and didn't -know whether she could throw true now. But she watched for a chance, and -directly banged away at a rat but she missed him wide, and said "Ouch" -it hurt her arm so. Then she told me to try for the next one. I wanted -to be getting away before the old man got back, but of course I didn't -let on. I got the thing, and the first rat that showed his nose I let -drive, and if he'd a stayed where he was he'd a been a tolerable sick -rat. She said that was firstrate, and she reckoned I would hive the -next one. She went and got the lump of lead and fetched it back, and -brought along a hank of yarn which she wanted me to help her with. I -held up my two hands and she put the hank over them, and went on talking -about her and her husband's matters. But she broke off to say -"Keep your eye on the rats. You better have the lead in your lap, -handy." -So she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment, and I clapped my -legs together on it and she went on talking. But only about a minute. -Then she took off the hank and looked me straight in the face, and very -pleasant, and says -"Come, now, what's your real name?" -"Whwhat, mum?" -"What's your real name? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob?or what is it?" -I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn't know hardly what to do. But I -says -"Please to don't poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I'm in the way -here, I'll" -"No, you won't. Set down and stay where you are. I ain't going to hurt -you, and I ain't going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your -secret, and trust me. I'll keep it and, what's more, I'll help you. -So'll my old man if you want him to. You see, you're a runaway -'prentice, that's all. It ain't anything. There ain't no harm in it. -You've been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut. Bless you, -child, I wouldn't tell on you. Tell me all about it now, that's a good -boy." -So I said it wouldn't be no use to try to play it any longer, and I would -just make a clean breast and tell her everything, but she musn't go back -on her promise. Then I told her my father and mother was dead, and the -law had bound me out to a mean old farmer in the country thirty mile back -from the river, and he treated me so bad I couldn't stand it no longer -he went away to be gone a couple of days, and so I took my chance and -stole some of his daughter's old clothes and cleared out, and I had been -three nights coming the thirty miles. I traveled nights, and hid -daytimes and slept, and the bag of bread and meat I carried from home -lasted me all the way, and I had aplenty. I said I believed my uncle -Abner Moore would take care of me, and so that was why I struck out for -this town of Goshen. -"Goshen, child? This ain't Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen's -ten mile further up the river. Who told you this was Goshen?" -"Why, a man I met at daybreak this morning, just as I was going to turn -into the woods for my regular sleep. He told me when the roads forked I -must take the right hand, and five mile would fetch me to Goshen." -"He was drunk, I reckon. He told you just exactly wrong." -"Well, he did act like he was drunk, but it ain't no matter now. I got -to be moving along. I'll fetch Goshen before daylight." -"Hold on a minute. I'll put you up a snack to eat. You might want it." -So she put me up a snack, and says -"Say, when a cow's laying down, which end of her gets up first? Answer -up prompt nowdon't stop to study over it. Which end gets up first?" -"The hind end, mum." -"Well, then, a horse?" -"The for'rard end, mum." -"Which side of a tree does the moss grow on?" -"North side." -"If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with -their heads pointed the same direction?" -"The whole fifteen, mum." -"Well, I reckon you HAVE lived in the country. I thought maybe you was -trying to hocus me again. What's your real name, now?" -"George Peters, mum." -"Well, try to remember it, George. Don't forget and tell me it's -Elexander before you go, and then get out by saying it's George Elexander -when I catch you. And don't go about women in that old calico. You do a -girl tolerable poor, but you might fool men, maybe. Bless you, child, -when you set out to thread a needle don't hold the thread still and fetch -the needle up to it hold the needle still and poke the thread at it -that's the way a woman most always does, but a man always does t'other -way. And when you throw at a rat or anything, hitch yourself up a tiptoe -and fetch your hand up over your head as awkward as you can, and miss -your rat about six or seven foot. Throw stiffarmed from the shoulder, -like there was a pivot there for it to turn on, like a girl not from the -wrist and elbow, with your arm out to one side, like a boy. And, mind -you, when a girl tries to catch anything in her lap she throws her knees -apart she don't clap them together, the way you did when you catched the -lump of lead. Why, I spotted you for a boy when you was threading the -needle and I contrived the other things just to make certain. Now trot -along to your uncle, Sarah Mary Williams George Elexander Peters, and if -you get into trouble you send word to Mrs. Judith Loftus, which is me, -and I'll do what I can to get you out of it. Keep the river road all the -way, and next time you tramp take shoes and socks with you. The river -road's a rocky one, and your feet'll be in a condition when you get to -Goshen, I reckon." -I went up the bank about fifty yards, and then I doubled on my tracks and -slipped back to where my canoe was, a good piece below the house. I -jumped in, and was off in a hurry. I went upstream far enough to make -the head of the island, and then started across. I took off the -sunbonnet, for I didn't want no blinders on then. When I was about the -middle I heard the clock begin to strike, so I stops and listens the -sound come faint over the water but cleareleven. When I struck the -head of the island I never waited to blow, though I was most winded, but -I shoved right into the timber where my old camp used to be, and started -a good fire there on a high and dry spot. -Then I jumped in the canoe and dug out for our place, a mile and a half -below, as hard as I could go. I landed, and slopped through the timber -and up the ridge and into the cavern. There Jim laid, sound asleep on -the ground. I roused him out and says -"Git up and hump yourself, Jim There ain't a minute to lose. They're -after us" -Jim never asked no questions, he never said a word but the way he worked -for the next half an hour showed about how he was scared. By that time -everything we had in the world was on our raft, and she was ready to be -shoved out from the willow cove where she was hid. We put out the camp -fire at the cavern the first thing, and didn't show a candle outside -after that. -I took the canoe out from the shore a little piece, and took a look but -if there was a boat around I couldn't see it, for stars and shadows ain't -good to see by. Then we got out the raft and slipped along down in the -shade, past the foot of the island dead stillnever saying a word. -CHAPTER XII. -IT must a been close on to one o'clock when we got below the island at -last, and the raft did seem to go mighty slow. If a boat was to come -along we was going to take to the canoe and break for the Illinois shore -and it was well a boat didn't come, for we hadn't ever thought to put the -gun in the canoe, or a fishingline, or anything to eat. We was in -ruther too much of a sweat to think of so many things. It warn't good -judgment to put EVERYTHING on the raft. -If the men went to the island I just expect they found the camp fire I -built, and watched it all night for Jim to come. Anyways, they stayed -away from us, and if my building the fire never fooled them it warn't no -fault of mine. I played it as low down on them as I could. -When the first streak of day began to show we tied up to a towhead in a -big bend on the Illinois side, and hacked off cottonwood branches with -the hatchet, and covered up the raft with them so she looked like there -had been a cavein in the bank there. A towhead is a sandbar that has -cottonwoods on it as thick as harrowteeth. -We had mountains on the Missouri shore and heavy timber on the Illinois -side, and the channel was down the Missouri shore at that place, so we -warn't afraid of anybody running across us. We laid there all day, and -watched the rafts and steamboats spin down the Missouri shore, and -upbound steamboats fight the big river in the middle. I told Jim all -about the time I had jabbering with that woman and Jim said she was a -smart one, and if she was to start after us herself she wouldn't set down -and watch a camp fireno, sir, she'd fetch a dog. Well, then, I said, -why couldn't she tell her husband to fetch a dog? Jim said he bet she -did think of it by the time the men was ready to start, and he believed -they must a gone uptown to get a dog and so they lost all that time, or -else we wouldn't be here on a towhead sixteen or seventeen mile below the -villageno, indeedy, we would be in that same old town again. So I said -I didn't care what was the reason they didn't get us as long as they -didn't. -When it was beginning to come on dark we poked our heads out of the -cottonwood thicket, and looked up and down and across nothing in sight -so Jim took up some of the top planks of the raft and built a snug wigwam -to get under in blazing weather and rainy, and to keep the things dry. -Jim made a floor for the wigwam, and raised it a foot or more above the -level of the raft, so now the blankets and all the traps was out of reach -of steamboat waves. Right in the middle of the wigwam we made a layer of -dirt about five or six inches deep with a frame around it for to hold it -to its place this was to build a fire on in sloppy weather or chilly -the wigwam would keep it from being seen. We made an extra steeringoar, -too, because one of the others might get broke on a snag or something. -We fixed up a short forked stick to hang the old lantern on, because we -must always light the lantern whenever we see a steamboat coming -downstream, to keep from getting run over but we wouldn't have to light -it for upstream boats unless we see we was in what they call a -"crossing" for the river was pretty high yet, very low banks being still -a little under water so upbound boats didn't always run the channel, -but hunted easy water. -This second night we run between seven and eight hours, with a current -that was making over four mile an hour. We catched fish and talked, and -we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of -solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on our backs looking -up at the stars, and we didn't ever feel like talking loud, and it warn't -often that we laughedonly a little kind of a low chuckle. We had -mighty good weather as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to us -at allthat night, nor the next, nor the next. -Every night we passed towns, some of them away up on black hillsides, -nothing but just a shiny bed of lights not a house could you see. The -fifth night we passed St. Louis, and it was like the whole world lit up. -In St. Petersburg they used to say there was twenty or thirty thousand -people in St. Louis, but I never believed it till I see that wonderful -spread of lights at two o'clock that still night. There warn't a sound -there everybody was asleep. -Every night now I used to slip ashore towards ten o'clock at some little -village, and buy ten or fifteen cents' worth of meal or bacon or other -stuff to eat and sometimes I lifted a chicken that warn't roosting -comfortable, and took him along. Pap always said, take a chicken when -you get a chance, because if you don't want him yourself you can easy -find somebody that does, and a good deed ain't ever forgot. I never see -pap when he didn't want the chicken himself, but that is what he used to -say, anyway. -Mornings before daylight I slipped into cornfields and borrowed a -watermelon, or a mushmelon, or a punkin, or some new corn, or things of -that kind. Pap always said it warn't no harm to borrow things if you was -meaning to pay them back some time but the widow said it warn't anything -but a soft name for stealing, and no decent body would do it. Jim said -he reckoned the widow was partly right and pap was partly right so the -best way would be for us to pick out two or three things from the list -and say we wouldn't borrow them any morethen he reckoned it wouldn't be -no harm to borrow the others. So we talked it over all one night, -drifting along down the river, trying to make up our minds whether to -drop the watermelons, or the cantelopes, or the mushmelons, or what. But -towards daylight we got it all settled satisfactory, and concluded to -drop crabapples and p'simmons. We warn't feeling just right before that, -but it was all comfortable now. I was glad the way it come out, too, -because crabapples ain't ever good, and the p'simmons wouldn't be ripe -for two or three months yet. -We shot a waterfowl now and then that got up too early in the morning or -didn't go to bed early enough in the evening. Take it all round, we -lived pretty high. -The fifth night below St. Louis we had a big storm after midnight, with a -power of thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in a solid -sheet. We stayed in the wigwam and let the raft take care of itself. -When the lightning glared out we could see a big straight river ahead, -and high, rocky bluffs on both sides. By and by says I, "HelLO, Jim, -looky yonder" It was a steamboat that had killed herself on a rock. We -was drifting straight down for her. The lightning showed her very -distinct. She was leaning over, with part of her upper deck above water, -and you could see every little chimblyguy clean and clear, and a chair -by the big bell, with an old slouch hat hanging on the back of it, when -the flashes come. -Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysteriouslike, -I felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck -laying there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river. I -wanted to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what there -was there. So I says -"Le's land on her, Jim." -But Jim was dead against it at first. He says -"I doan' want to go fool'n 'long er no wrack. We's doin' blame' well, en -we better let blame' well alone, as de good book says. Like as not dey's -a watchman on dat wrack." -"Watchman your grandmother," I says "there ain't nothing to watch but -the texas and the pilothouse and do you reckon anybody's going to resk -his life for a texas and a pilothouse such a night as this, when it's -likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?" Jim couldn't -say nothing to that, so he didn't try. "And besides," I says, "we might -borrow something worth having out of the captain's stateroom. Seegars, I -bet youand cost five cents apiece, solid cash. Steamboat captains is -always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and THEY don't care a cent -what a thing costs, you know, long as they want it. Stick a candle in -your pocket I can't rest, Jim, till we give her a rummaging. Do you -reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this thing? Not for pie, he wouldn't. -He'd call it an adventurethat's what he'd call it and he'd land on -that wreck if it was his last act. And wouldn't he throw style into it? -wouldn't he spread himself, nor nothing? Why, you'd think it was -Christopher C'lumbus discovering KingdomCome. I wish Tom Sawyer WAS -here." -Jim he grumbled a little, but give in. He said we mustn't talk any more -than we could help, and then talk mighty low. The lightning showed us -the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard derrick, and -made fast there. -The deck was high out here. We went sneaking down the slope of it to -labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our -feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so -dark we couldn't see no sign of them. Pretty soon we struck the forward -end of the skylight, and clumb on to it and the next step fetched us in -front of the captain's door, which was open, and by Jimminy, away down -through the texashall we see a light and all in the same second we seem -to hear low voices in yonder -Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come -along. I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft but just -then I heard a voice wail out and say -"Oh, please don't, boys I swear I won't ever tell" -Another voice said, pretty loud -"It's a lie, Jim Turner. You've acted this way before. You always want -more'n your share of the truck, and you've always got it, too, because -you've swore 't if you didn't you'd tell. But this time you've said it -jest one time too many. You're the meanest, treacherousest hound in this -country." -By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just abiling with -curiosity and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer wouldn't back out now, and so -I won't either I'm agoing to see what's going on here. So I dropped on -my hands and knees in the little passage, and crept aft in the dark till -there warn't but one stateroom betwixt me and the crosshall of the -texas. Then in there I see a man stretched on the floor and tied hand -and foot, and two men standing over him, and one of them had a dim -lantern in his hand, and the other one had a pistol. This one kept -pointing the pistol at the man's head on the floor, and saying -"I'd LIKE to And I orter, tooa mean skunk" -The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, "Oh, please don't, Bill I -hain't ever goin' to tell." -And every time he said that the man with the lantern would laugh and say -"'Deed you AIN'T You never said no truer thing 'n that, you bet you." -And once he said "Hear him beg and yit if we hadn't got the best of -him and tied him he'd a killed us both. And what FOR? Jist for noth'n. -Jist because we stood on our RIGHTSthat's what for. But I lay you -ain't agoin' to threaten nobody any more, Jim Turner. Put UP that -pistol, Bill." -Bill says -"I don't want to, Jake Packard. I'm for killin' himand didn't he kill -old Hatfield jist the same wayand don't he deserve it?" -"But I don't WANT him killed, and I've got my reasons for it." -"Bless yo' heart for them words, Jake Packard I'll never forgit you -long's I live" says the man on the floor, sort of blubbering. -Packard didn't take no notice of that, but hung up his lantern on a nail -and started towards where I was there in the dark, and motioned Bill to -come. I crawfished as fast as I could about two yards, but the boat -slanted so that I couldn't make very good time so to keep from getting -run over and catched I crawled into a stateroom on the upper side. The -man came apawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my -stateroom, he says -"Herecome in here." -And in he come, and Bill after him. But before they got in I was up in -the upper berth, cornered, and sorry I come. Then they stood there, with -their hands on the ledge of the berth, and talked. I couldn't see them, -but I could tell where they was by the whisky they'd been having. I was -glad I didn't drink whisky but it wouldn't made much difference anyway, -because most of the time they couldn't a treed me because I didn't -breathe. I was too scared. And, besides, a body COULDN'T breathe and -hear such talk. They talked low and earnest. Bill wanted to kill -Turner. He says -"He's said he'll tell, and he will. If we was to give both our shares to -him NOW it wouldn't make no difference after the row and the way we've -served him. Shore's you're born, he'll turn State's evidence now you -hear ME. I'm for putting him out of his troubles." -"So'm I," says Packard, very quiet. -"Blame it, I'd sorter begun to think you wasn't. Well, then, that's all -right. Le's go and do it." -"Hold on a minute I hain't had my say yit. You listen to me. -Shooting's good, but there's quieter ways if the thing's GOT to be done. -But what I say is this it ain't good sense to go court'n around after a -halter if you can git at what you're up to in some way that's jist as -good and at the same time don't bring you into no resks. Ain't that so?" -"You bet it is. But how you goin' to manage it this time?" -"Well, my idea is this we'll rustle around and gather up whatever -pickins we've overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and hide -the truck. Then we'll wait. Now I say it ain't agoin' to be more'n two -hours befo' this wrack breaks up and washes off down the river. See? -He'll be drownded, and won't have nobody to blame for it but his own -self. I reckon that's a considerble sight better 'n killin' of him. I'm -unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can git aroun' it it ain't -good sense, it ain't good morals. Ain't I right?" -"Yes, I reck'n you are. But s'pose she DON'T break up and wash off?" -"Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?" -"All right, then come along." -So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled -forward. It was dark as pitch there but I said, in a kind of a coarse -whisper, "Jim" and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a -moan, and I says -"Quick, Jim, it ain't no time for fooling around and moaning there's a -gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don't hunt up their boat and set -her drifting down the river so these fellows can't get away from the -wreck there's one of 'em going to be in a bad fix. But if we find their -boat we can put ALL of 'em in a bad fixfor the sheriff 'll get 'em. -Quickhurry I'll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. -You start at the raft, and" -"Oh, my lordy, lordy RAF'? Dey ain' no raf' no mo' she done broke -loose en gone Ien here we is" -CHAPTER XIII. -WELL, I catched my breath and most fainted. Shut up on a wreck with such -a gang as that But it warn't no time to be sentimentering. We'd GOT to -find that boat nowhad to have it for ourselves. So we went aquaking -and shaking down the stabboard side, and slow work it was, tooseemed a -week before we got to the stern. No sign of a boat. Jim said he didn't -believe he could go any furtherso scared he hadn't hardly any strength -left, he said. But I said, come on, if we get left on this wreck we are -in a fix, sure. So on we prowled again. We struck for the stern of the -texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along forwards on the skylight, -hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the edge of the skylight was in -the water. When we got pretty close to the crosshall door there was the -skiff, sure enough I could just barely see her. I felt ever so -thankful. In another second I would a been aboard of her, but just then -the door opened. One of the men stuck his head out only about a couple -of foot from me, and I thought I was gone but he jerked it in again, and -says -"Heave that blame lantern out o' sight, Bill" -He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and -set down. It was Packard. Then Bill HE come out and got in. Packard -says, in a low voice -"All readyshove off" -I couldn't hardly hang on to the shutters, I was so weak. But Bill says -"Hold on'd you go through him?" -"No. Didn't you?" -"No. So he's got his share o' the cash yet." -"Well, then, come along no use to take truck and leave money." -"Say, won't he suspicion what we're up to?" -"Maybe he won't. But we got to have it anyway. Come along." -So they got out and went in. -The door slammed to because it was on the careened side and in a half -second I was in the boat, and Jim come tumbling after me. I out with my -knife and cut the rope, and away we went -We didn't touch an oar, and we didn't speak nor whisper, nor hardly even -breathe. We went gliding swift along, dead silent, past the tip of the -paddlebox, and past the stern then in a second or two more we was a -hundred yards below the wreck, and the darkness soaked her up, every last -sign of her, and we was safe, and knowed it. -When we was three or four hundred yards downstream we see the lantern -show like a little spark at the texas door for a second, and we knowed by -that that the rascals had missed their boat, and was beginning to -understand that they was in just as much trouble now as Jim Turner was. -Then Jim manned the oars, and we took out after our raft. Now was the -first time that I begun to worry about the menI reckon I hadn't had -time to before. I begun to think how dreadful it was, even for -murderers, to be in such a fix. I says to myself, there ain't no telling -but I might come to be a murderer myself yet, and then how would I like -it? So says I to Jim -"The first light we see we'll land a hundred yards below it or above it, -in a place where it's a good hidingplace for you and the skiff, and then -I'll go and fix up some kind of a yarn, and get somebody to go for that -gang and get them out of their scrape, so they can be hung when their -time comes." -But that idea was a failure for pretty soon it begun to storm again, and -this time worse than ever. The rain poured down, and never a light -showed everybody in bed, I reckon. We boomed along down the river, -watching for lights and watching for our raft. After a long time the -rain let up, but the clouds stayed, and the lightning kept whimpering, -and by and by a flash showed us a black thing ahead, floating, and we -made for it. -It was the raft, and mighty glad was we to get aboard of it again. We -seen a light now away down to the right, on shore. So I said I would go -for it. The skiff was half full of plunder which that gang had stole -there on the wreck. We hustled it on to the raft in a pile, and I told -Jim to float along down, and show a light when he judged he had gone -about two mile, and keep it burning till I come then I manned my oars -and shoved for the light. As I got down towards it three or four more -showedup on a hillside. It was a village. I closed in above the shore -light, and laid on my oars and floated. As I went by I see it was a -lantern hanging on the jackstaff of a doublehull ferryboat. I skimmed -around for the watchman, awondering whereabouts he slept and by and by -I found him roosting on the bitts forward, with his head down between his -knees. I gave his shoulder two or three little shoves, and begun to cry. -He stirred up in a kind of a startlish way but when he see it was only -me he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says -"Hello, what's up? Don't cry, bub. What's the trouble?" -I says -"Pap, and mam, and sis, and" -Then I broke down. He says -"Oh, dang it now, DON'T take on so we all has to have our troubles, and -this 'n 'll come out all right. What's the matter with 'em?" -"They'rethey'reare you the watchman of the boat?" -"Yes," he says, kind of prettywellsatisfied like. "I'm the captain and -the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head deckhand and -sometimes I'm the freight and passengers. I ain't as rich as old Jim -Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good to Tom, Dick, and -Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does but I've told -him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with him for, says I, a -sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if I'D live two mile out -o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' on, not for all his -spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I" -I broke in and says -"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and" -"WHO is?" -"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker and if you'd take your -ferryboat and go up there" -"Up where? Where are they?" -"On the wreck." -"What wreck?" -"Why, there ain't but one." -"What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?" -"Yes." -"Good land what are they doin' THERE, for gracious sakes?" -"Well, they didn't go there apurpose." -"I bet they didn't Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em -if they don't git off mighty quick Why, how in the nation did they ever -git into such a scrape?" -"Easy enough. Miss Hooker was avisiting up there to the town" -"Yes, Booth's Landinggo on." -"She was avisiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of the -evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horseferry to stay -all night at her friend's house, Miss Whatyoumaycallher I disremember -her nameand they lost their steeringoar, and swung around and went -afloating down, stern first, about two mile, and saddlebaggsed on the -wreck, and the ferryman and the nigger woman and the horses was all lost, -but Miss Hooker she made a grab and got aboard the wreck. Well, about an -hour after dark we come along down in our tradingscow, and it was so -dark we didn't notice the wreck till we was right on it and so WE -saddlebaggsed but all of us was saved but Bill Whippleand oh, he WAS -the best creturI most wish 't it had been me, I do." -"My George It's the beatenest thing I ever struck. And THEN what did -you all do?" -"Well, we hollered and took on, but it's so wide there we couldn't make -nobody hear. So pap said somebody got to get ashore and get help -somehow. I was the only one that could swim, so I made a dash for it, and -Miss Hooker she said if I didn't strike help sooner, come here and hunt -up her uncle, and he'd fix the thing. I made the land about a mile -below, and been fooling along ever since, trying to get people to do -something, but they said, 'What, in such a night and such a current? -There ain't no sense in it go for the steam ferry.' Now if you'll go -and" -"By Jackson, I'd LIKE to, and, blame it, I don't know but I will but who -in the dingnation's agoing' to PAY for it? Do you reckon your pap" -"Why THAT'S all right. Miss Hooker she tole me, PARTICULAR, that her -uncle Hornback" -"Great guns is HE her uncle? Looky here, you break for that light over -yonderway, and turn out west when you git there, and about a quarter of -a mile out you'll come to the tavern tell 'em to dart you out to Jim -Hornback's, and he'll foot the bill. And don't you fool around any, -because he'll want to know the news. Tell him I'll have his niece all -safe before he can get to town. Hump yourself, now I'm agoing up -around the corner here to roust out my engineer." -I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back -and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in the -easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among some -woodboats for I couldn't rest easy till I could see the ferryboat start. -But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on accounts of -taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would a done it. I -wished the widow knowed about it. I judged she would be proud of me for -helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and dead beats is the -kind the widow and good people takes the most interest in. -Well, before long here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along -down A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for -her. She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn't much chance -for anybody being alive in her. I pulled all around her and hollered a -little, but there wasn't any answer all dead still. I felt a little bit -heavyhearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they could -stand it I could. -Then here comes the ferryboat so I shoved for the middle of the river on -a long downstream slant and when I judged I was out of eyereach I laid -on my oars, and looked back and see her go and smell around the wreck for -Miss Hooker's remainders, because the captain would know her uncle -Hornback would want them and then pretty soon the ferryboat give it up -and went for the shore, and I laid into my work and went abooming down -the river. -It did seem a powerful long time before Jim's light showed up and when -it did show it looked like it was a thousand mile off. By the time I got -there the sky was beginning to get a little gray in the east so we -struck for an island, and hid the raft, and sunk the skiff, and turned in -and slept like dead people. -CHAPTER XIV. -BY and by, when we got up, we turned over the truck the gang had stole -off of the wreck, and found boots, and blankets, and clothes, and all -sorts of other things, and a lot of books, and a spyglass, and three -boxes of seegars. We hadn't ever been this rich before in neither of our -lives. The seegars was prime. We laid off all the afternoon in the -woods talking, and me reading the books, and having a general good time. -I told Jim all about what happened inside the wreck and at the ferryboat, -and I said these kinds of things was adventures but he said he didn't -want no more adventures. He said that when I went in the texas and he -crawled back to get on the raft and found her gone he nearly died, -because he judged it was all up with HIM anyway it could be fixed for if -he didn't get saved he would get drownded and if he did get saved, -whoever saved him would send him back home so as to get the reward, and -then Miss Watson would sell him South, sure. Well, he was right he was -most always right he had an uncommon level head for a nigger. -I read considerable to Jim about kings and dukes and earls and such, and -how gaudy they dressed, and how much style they put on, and called each -other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, 'stead -of mister and Jim's eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He says -"I didn' know dey was so many un um. I hain't hearn 'bout none un um, -skasely, but ole King Sollermun, onless you counts dem kings dat's in a -pack er k'yards. How much do a king git?" -"Get?" I says "why, they get a thousand dollars a month if they want -it they can have just as much as they want everything belongs to them." -"AIN' dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck?" -"THEY don't do nothing Why, how you talk They just set around." -"No is dat so?" -"Of course it is. They just set aroundexcept, maybe, when there's a -war then they go to the war. But other times they just lazy around or -go hawkingjust hawking and spShd' you hear a noise?" -We skipped out and looked but it warn't nothing but the flutter of a -steamboat's wheel away down, coming around the point so we come back. -"Yes," says I, "and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the -parlyment and if everybody don't go just so he whacks their heads off. -But mostly they hang round the harem." -"Roun' de which?" -"Harem." -"What's de harem?" -"The place where he keeps his wives. Don't you know about the harem? -Solomon had one he had about a million wives." -"Why, yes, dat's so II'd done forgot it. A harem's a bo'd'nhouse, I -reck'n. Mos' likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reck'n de -wives quarrels considable en dat 'crease de racket. Yit dey say -Sollermun de wises' man dat ever live'. I doan' take no stock in dat. -Bekase why would a wise man want to live in de mids' er sich a -blimblammin' all de time? No'deed he wouldn't. A wise man 'ud take -en buil' a bilerfactry en den he could shet DOWN de bilerfactry when -he want to res'." -"Well, but he WAS the wisest man, anyway because the widow she told me -so, her own self." -"I doan k'yer what de widder say, he WARN'T no wise man nuther. He had -some er de dadfetchedes' ways I ever see. Does you know 'bout dat chile -dat he 'uz gwyne to chop in two?" -"Yes, the widow told me all about it." -"WELL, den Warn' dat de beatenes' notion in de worl'? You jes' take en -look at it a minute. Dah's de stump, dahdat's one er de women heah's -youdat's de yuther one I's Sollermun en dish yer dollar bill's de -chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun' -mongs' de neighbors en fine out which un you de bill DO b'long to, en -han' it over to de right one, all safe en soun', de way dat anybody dat -had any gumption would? No I take en whack de bill in TWO, en give half -un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat's de way -Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you what's -de use er dat half a bill?can't buy noth'n wid it. En what use is a -half a chile? I wouldn' give a dern for a million un um." -"But hang it, Jim, you've clean missed the pointblame it, you've missed -it a thousand mile." -"Who? Me? Go 'long. Doan' talk to me 'bout yo' pints. I reck'n I -knows sense when I sees it en dey ain' no sense in sich doin's as dat. -De 'spute warn't 'bout a half a chile, de 'spute was 'bout a whole chile -en de man dat think he kin settle a 'spute 'bout a whole chile wid a half -a chile doan' know enough to come in out'n de rain. Doan' talk to me -'bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back." -"But I tell you you don't get the point." -"Blame de point I reck'n I knows what I knows. En mine you, de REAL -pint is down furderit's down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was -raised. You take a man dat's got on'y one or two chillen is dat man -gwyne to be waseful o' chillen? No, he ain't he can't 'ford it. HE -know how to value 'em. But you take a man dat's got 'bout five million -chillen runnin' roun' de house, en it's diffunt. HE as soon chop a chile -in two as a cat. Dey's plenty mo'. A chile er two, mo' er less, warn't -no consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him" -I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there -warn't no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of any -nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kings, and let -Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off in -France long time ago and about his little boy the dolphin, that would a -been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say he died -there. -"Po' little chap." -"But some says he got out and got away, and come to America." -"Dat's good But he'll be pooty lonesomedey ain' no kings here, is -dey, Huck?" -"No." -"Den he cain't git no situation. What he gwyne to do?" -"Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them -learns people how to talk French." -"Why, Huck, doan' de French people talk de same way we does?" -"NO, Jim you couldn't understand a word they saidnot a single word." -"Well, now, I be dingbusted How do dat come?" -"I don't know but it's so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. -S'pose a man was to come to you and say Pollyvoofranzywhat would you -think?" -"I wouldn' think nuff'n I'd take en bust him over de headdat is, if he -warn't white. I wouldn't 'low no nigger to call me dat." -"Shucks, it ain't calling you anything. It's only saying, do you know -how to talk French?" -"Well, den, why couldn't he SAY it?" -"Why, he IS asaying it. That's a Frenchman's WAY of saying it." -"Well, it's a blame ridicklous way, en I doan' want to hear no mo' 'bout -it. Dey ain' no sense in it." -"Looky here, Jim does a cat talk like we do?" -"No, a cat don't." -"Well, does a cow?" -"No, a cow don't, nuther." -"Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?" -"No, dey don't." -"It's natural and right for 'em to talk different from each other, ain't -it?" -"Course." -"And ain't it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different -from US?" -"Why, mos' sholy it is." -"Well, then, why ain't it natural and right for a FRENCHMAN to talk -different from us? You answer me that." -"Is a cat a man, Huck?" -"No." -"Well, den, dey ain't no sense in a cat talkin' like a man. Is a cow a -man?er is a cow a cat?" -"No, she ain't either of them." -"Well, den, she ain't got no business to talk like either one er the -yuther of 'em. Is a Frenchman a man?" -"Yes." -"WELL, den Dad blame it, why doan' he TALK like a man? You answer me -DAT" -I see it warn't no use wasting wordsyou can't learn a nigger to argue. -So I quit. -CHAPTER XV. -WE judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom -of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was -after. We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the -Ohio amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble. -Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a towhead -to tie to, for it wouldn't do to try to run in a fog but when I paddled -ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn't anything but -little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around one of them right on -the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current, and the raft -come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and away she -went. I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick and scared I -couldn't budge for most a half a minute it seemed to meand then there -warn't no raft in sight you couldn't see twenty yards. I jumped into -the canoe and run back to the stern, and grabbed the paddle and set her -back a stroke. But she didn't come. I was in such a hurry I hadn't -untied her. I got up and tried to untie her, but I was so excited my -hands shook so I couldn't hardly do anything with them. -As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy, right -down the towhead. That was all right as far as it went, but the towhead -warn't sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot of it I shot -out into the solid white fog, and hadn't no more idea which way I was -going than a dead man. -Thinks I, it won't do to paddle first I know I'll run into the bank or a -towhead or something I got to set still and float, and yet it's mighty -fidgety business to have to hold your hands still at such a time. I -whooped and listened. Away down there somewheres I hears a small whoop, -and up comes my spirits. I went tearing after it, listening sharp to -hear it again. The next time it come I see I warn't heading for it, but -heading away to the right of it. And the next time I was heading away to -the left of itand not gaining on it much either, for I was flying -around, this way and that and t'other, but it was going straight ahead -all the time. -I did wish the fool would think to beat a tin pan, and beat it all the -time, but he never did, and it was the still places between the whoops -that was making the trouble for me. Well, I fought along, and directly I -hears the whoop BEHIND me. I was tangled good now. That was somebody -else's whoop, or else I was turned around. -I throwed the paddle down. I heard the whoop again it was behind me -yet, but in a different place it kept coming, and kept changing its -place, and I kept answering, till by and by it was in front of me again, -and I knowed the current had swung the canoe's head downstream, and I -was all right if that was Jim and not some other raftsman hollering. I -couldn't tell nothing about voices in a fog, for nothing don't look -natural nor sound natural in a fog. -The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come abooming down on a -cut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwed me -off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairly roared, -the currrent was tearing by them so swift. -In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I set -perfectly still then, listening to my heart thump, and I reckon I didn't -draw a breath while it thumped a hundred. -I just give up then. I knowed what the matter was. That cut bank was an -island, and Jim had gone down t'other side of it. It warn't no towhead -that you could float by in ten minutes. It had the big timber of a -regular island it might be five or six miles long and more than half a -mile wide. -I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon. I -was floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour but you don't -ever think of that. No, you FEEL like you are laying dead still on the -water and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by you don't think to -yourself how fast YOU'RE going, but you catch your breath and think, my -how that snag's tearing along. If you think it ain't dismal and lonesome -out in a fog that way by yourself in the night, you try it onceyou'll -see. -Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then at last I hears -the answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn't do it, -and directly I judged I'd got into a nest of towheads, for I had little -dim glimpses of them on both sides of mesometimes just a narrow channel -between, and some that I couldn't see I knowed was there because I'd hear -the wash of the current against the old dead brush and trash that hung -over the banks. Well, I warn't long loosing the whoops down amongst the -towheads and I only tried to chase them a little while, anyway, because -it was worse than chasing a Jacko'lantern. You never knowed a sound -dodge around so, and swap places so quick and so much. -I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, to -keep from knocking the islands out of the river and so I judged the raft -must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else it would get -further ahead and clear out of hearingit was floating a little faster -than what I was. -Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by and by, but I couldn't -hear no sign of a whoop nowheres. I reckoned Jim had fetched up on a -snag, maybe, and it was all up with him. I was good and tired, so I laid -down in the canoe and said I wouldn't bother no more. I didn't want to -go to sleep, of course but I was so sleepy I couldn't help it so I -thought I would take jest one little catnap. -But I reckon it was more than a catnap, for when I waked up the stars -was shining bright, the fog was all gone, and I was spinning down a big -bend stern first. First I didn't know where I was I thought I was -dreaming and when things began to come back to me they seemed to come up -dim out of last week. -It was a monstrous big river here, with the tallest and the thickest kind -of timber on both banks just a solid wall, as well as I could see by the -stars. I looked away downstream, and seen a black speck on the water. -I took after it but when I got to it it warn't nothing but a couple of -sawlogs made fast together. Then I see another speck, and chased that -then another, and this time I was right. It was the raft. -When I got to it Jim was setting there with his head down between his -knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steeringoar. The -other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and -branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time. -I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and began to gap, -and stretch my fists out against Jim, and says -"Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?" -"Goodness gracious, is dat you, Huck? En you ain' deadyou ain' -drowndedyou's back agin? It's too good for true, honey, it's too -good for true. Lemme look at you chile, lemme feel o' you. No, you ain' -dead you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huckde same ole -Huck, thanks to goodness" -"What's the matter with you, Jim? You been adrinking?" -"Drinkin'? Has I ben adrinkin'? Has I had a chance to be adrinkin'?" -"Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?" -"How does I talk wild?" -"HOW? Why, hain't you been talking about my coming back, and all that -stuff, as if I'd been gone away?" -"HuckHuck Finn, you look me in de eye look me in de eye. HAIN'T you -ben gone away?" -"Gone away? Why, what in the nation do you mean? I hain't been gone -anywheres. Where would I go to?" -"Well, looky here, boss, dey's sumf'n wrong, dey is. Is I ME, or who IS -I? Is I heah, or whah IS I? Now dat's what I wants to know." -"Well, I think you're here, plain enough, but I think you're a -tangleheaded old fool, Jim." -"I is, is I? Well, you answer me dis Didn't you tote out de line in de -canoe fer to make fas' to de towhead?" -"No, I didn't. What towhead? I hain't see no towhead." -"You hain't seen no towhead? Looky here, didn't de line pull loose en de -raf' go ahummin' down de river, en leave you en de canoe behine in de -fog?" -"What fog?" -"Why, de fogde fog dat's been aroun' all night. En didn't you whoop, -en didn't I whoop, tell we got mix' up in de islands en one un us got -los' en t'other one was jis' as good as los', 'kase he didn' know whah he -wuz? En didn't I bust up agin a lot er dem islands en have a turrible -time en mos' git drownded? Now ain' dat so, bossain't it so? You -answer me dat." -"Well, this is too many for me, Jim. I hain't seen no fog, nor no -islands, nor no troubles, nor nothing. I been setting here talking with -you all night till you went to sleep about ten minutes ago, and I reckon -I done the same. You couldn't a got drunk in that time, so of course -you've been dreaming." -"Dad fetch it, how is I gwyne to dream all dat in ten minutes?" -"Well, hang it all, you did dream it, because there didn't any of it -happen." -"But, Huck, it's all jis' as plain to me as" -"It don't make no difference how plain it is there ain't nothing in it. -I know, because I've been here all the time." -Jim didn't say nothing for about five minutes, but set there studying -over it. Then he says -"Well, den, I reck'n I did dream it, Huck but dog my cats ef it ain't de -powerfullest dream I ever see. En I hain't ever had no dream b'fo' dat's -tired me like dis one." -"Oh, well, that's all right, because a dream does tire a body like -everything sometimes. But this one was a staving dream tell me all -about it, Jim." -So Jim went to work and told me the whole thing right through, just as it -happened, only he painted it up considerable. Then he said he must start -in and "'terpret" it, because it was sent for a warning. He said the -first towhead stood for a man that would try to do us some good, but the -current was another man that would get us away from him. The whoops was -warnings that would come to us every now and then, and if we didn't try -hard to make out to understand them they'd just take us into bad luck, -'stead of keeping us out of it. The lot of towheads was troubles we was -going to get into with quarrelsome people and all kinds of mean folks, -but if we minded our business and didn't talk back and aggravate them, we -would pull through and get out of the fog and into the big clear river, -which was the free States, and wouldn't have no more trouble. -It had clouded up pretty dark just after I got on to the raft, but it was -clearing up again now. -"Oh, well, that's all interpreted well enough as far as it goes, Jim," I -says "but what does THESE things stand for?" -It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. You could -see them firstrate now. -Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trash -again. He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that he couldn't -seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its place again right -away. But when he did get the thing straightened around he looked at me -steady without ever smiling, and says -"What do dey stan' for? I'se gwyne to tell you. When I got all wore out -wid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz mos' -broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what become er me en -de raf'. En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe en soun', de -tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo' foot, I's so -thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how you could make a fool uv -ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is TRASH en trash is what people is -dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's en makes 'em ashamed." -Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without -saying anything but that. But that was enough. It made me feel so mean -I could almost kissed HIS foot to get him to take it back. -It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble -myself to a nigger but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it -afterwards, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't -done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way. -CHAPTER XVI. -WE slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a -monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession. She had -four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty -men, likely. She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open -camp fire in the middle, and a tall flagpole at each end. There was a -power of style about her. It AMOUNTED to something being a raftsman on -such a craft as that. -We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up and got -hot. The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber on both -sides you couldn't see a break in it hardly ever, or a light. We talked -about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we got to it. I -said likely we wouldn't, because I had heard say there warn't but about a -dozen houses there, and if they didn't happen to have them lit up, how -was we going to know we was passing a town? Jim said if the two big -rivers joined together there, that would show. But I said maybe we might -think we was passing the foot of an island and coming into the same old -river again. That disturbed Jimand me too. So the question was, what -to do? I said, paddle ashore the first time a light showed, and tell -them pap was behind, coming along with a tradingscow, and was a green -hand at the business, and wanted to know how far it was to Cairo. Jim -thought it was a good idea, so we took a smoke on it and waited. -There warn't nothing to do now but to look out sharp for the town, and -not pass it without seeing it. He said he'd be mighty sure to see it, -because he'd be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed it -he'd be in a slave country again and no more show for freedom. Every -little while he jumps up and says -"Dah she is?" -But it warn't. It was Jacko'lanterns, or lightning bugs so he set -down again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made him -all over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I can -tell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him, -because I begun to get it through my head that he WAS most freeand who -was to blame for it? Why, ME. I couldn't get that out of my conscience, -no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldn't rest I couldn't -stay still in one place. It hadn't ever come home to me before, what -this thing was that I was doing. But now it did and it stayed with me, -and scorched me more and more. I tried to make out to myself that I -warn't to blame, because I didn't run Jim off from his rightful owner -but it warn't no use, conscience up and says, every time, "But you knowed -he was running for his freedom, and you could a paddled ashore and told -somebody." That was soI couldn't get around that noway. That was -where it pinched. Conscience says to me, "What had poor Miss Watson done -to you that you could see her nigger go off right under your eyes and -never say one single word? What did that poor old woman do to you that -you could treat her so mean? Why, she tried to learn you your book, she -tried to learn you your manners, she tried to be good to you every way -she knowed how. THAT'S what she done." -I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dead. I -fidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself, and Jim was -fidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still. Every -time he danced around and says, "Dah's Cairo" it went through me like a -shot, and I thought if it WAS Cairo I reckoned I would die of -miserableness. -Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He was -saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free State he -would go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when he -got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to -where Miss Watson lived and then they would both work to buy the two -children, and if their master wouldn't sell them, they'd get an -Ab'litionist to go and steal them. -It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldn't ever dared to talk such -talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made in him the -minute he judged he was about free. It was according to the old saying, -"Give a nigger an inch and he'll take an ell." Thinks I, this is what -comes of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which I had as good as -helped to run away, coming right out flatfooted and saying he would -steal his childrenchildren that belonged to a man I didn't even know a -man that hadn't ever done me no harm. -I was sorry to hear Jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. My -conscience got to stirring me up hotter than ever, until at last I says -to it, "Let up on meit ain't too late yetI'll paddle ashore at the -first light and tell." I felt easy and happy and light as a feather -right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking out sharp for a -light, and sort of singing to myself. By and by one showed. Jim sings -out -"We's safe, Huck, we's safe Jump up and crack yo' heels Dat's de good -ole Cairo at las', I jis knows it" -I says -"I'll take the canoe and go and see, Jim. It mightn't be, you know." -He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottom for -me to set on, and give me the paddle and as I shoved off, he says -"Pooty soon I'll be ashout'n' for joy, en I'll say, it's all on accounts -o' Huck I's a free man, en I couldn't ever ben free ef it hadn' ben for -Huck Huck done it. Jim won't ever forgit you, Huck you's de bes' fren' -Jim's ever had en you's de ONLY fren' ole Jim's got now." -I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him but when he says this, -it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went along slow -then, and I warn't right down certain whether I was glad I started or -whether I warn't. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says -"Dah you goes, de ole true Huck de on'y white genlman dat ever kep' his -promise to ole Jim." -Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I GOT to do itI can't get OUT of -it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it with guns, and -they stopped and I stopped. One of them says -"What's that yonder?" -"A piece of a raft," I says. -"Do you belong on it?" -"Yes, sir." -"Any men on it?" -"Only one, sir." -"Well, there's five niggers run off tonight up yonder, above the head of -the bend. Is your man white or black?" -I didn't answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn't come. I -tried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn't man -enoughhadn't the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening so I just -give up trying, and up and says -"He's white." -"I reckon we'll go and see for ourselves." -"I wish you would," says I, "because it's pap that's there, and maybe -you'd help me tow the raft ashore where the light is. He's sickand so -is mam and Mary Ann." -"Oh, the devil we're in a hurry, boy. But I s'pose we've got to. Come, -buckle to your paddle, and let's get along." -I buckled to my paddle and they laid to their oars. When we had made a -stroke or two, I says -"Pap'll be mighty much obleeged to you, I can tell you. Everybody goes -away when I want them to help me tow the raft ashore, and I can't do it -by myself." -"Well, that's infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what's the matter with -your father?" -"It's theathewell, it ain't anything much." -They stopped pulling. It warn't but a mighty little ways to the raft -now. One says -"Boy, that's a lie. What IS the matter with your pap? Answer up square -now, and it'll be the better for you." -"I will, sir, I will, honestbut don't leave us, please. It's thethe -Gentlemen, if you'll only pull ahead, and let me heave you the -headline, you won't have to come anear the raftplease do." -"Set her back, John, set her back" says one. They backed water. "Keep -away, boykeep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind has -blowed it to us. Your pap's got the smallpox, and you know it precious -well. Why didn't you come out and say so? Do you want to spread it all -over?" -"Well," says I, ablubbering, "I've told everybody before, and they just -went away and left us." -"Poor devil, there's something in that. We are right down sorry for you, -but wewell, hang it, we don't want the smallpox, you see. Look here, -I'll tell you what to do. Don't you try to land by yourself, or you'll -smash everything to pieces. You float along down about twenty miles, and -you'll come to a town on the lefthand side of the river. It will be -long after sunup then, and when you ask for help you tell them your -folks are all down with chills and fever. Don't be a fool again, and let -people guess what is the matter. Now we're trying to do you a kindness -so you just put twenty miles between us, that's a good boy. It wouldn't -do any good to land yonder where the light isit's only a woodyard. -Say, I reckon your father's poor, and I'm bound to say he's in pretty -hard luck. Here, I'll put a twentydollar gold piece on this board, and -you get it when it floats by. I feel mighty mean to leave you but my -kingdom it won't do to fool with smallpox, don't you see?" -"Hold on, Parker," says the other man, "here's a twenty to put on the -board for me. Goodbye, boy you do as Mr. Parker told you, and you'll -be all right." -"That's so, my boygoodbye, goodbye. If you see any runaway niggers -you get help and nab them, and you can make some money by it." -"Goodbye, sir," says I "I won't let no runaway niggers get by me if I -can help it." -They went off and I got aboard the raft, feeling bad and low, because I -knowed very well I had done wrong, and I see it warn't no use for me to -try to learn to do right a body that don't get STARTED right when he's -little ain't got no showwhen the pinch comes there ain't nothing to -back him up and keep him to his work, and so he gets beat. Then I -thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on s'pose you'd a done right -and give Jim up, would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, -I'd feel badI'd feel just the same way I do now. Well, then, says I, -what's the use you learning to do right when it's troublesome to do right -and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? I was -stuck. I couldn't answer that. So I reckoned I wouldn't bother no more -about it, but after this always do whichever come handiest at the time. -I went into the wigwam Jim warn't there. I looked all around he warn't -anywhere. I says -"Jim" -"Here I is, Huck. Is dey out o' sight yit? Don't talk loud." -He was in the river under the stern oar, with just his nose out. I told -him they were out of sight, so he come aboard. He says -"I was alistenin' to all de talk, en I slips into de river en was gwyne -to shove for sho' if dey come aboard. Den I was gwyne to swim to de raf' -agin when dey was gone. But lawsy, how you did fool 'em, Huck Dat WUZ -de smartes' dodge I tell you, chile, I'spec it save' ole Jimole Jim -ain't going to forgit you for dat, honey." -Then we talked about the money. It was a pretty good raisetwenty -dollars apiece. Jim said we could take deck passage on a steamboat now, -and the money would last us as far as we wanted to go in the free States. -He said twenty mile more warn't far for the raft to go, but he wished we -was already there. -Towards daybreak we tied up, and Jim was mighty particular about hiding -the raft good. Then he worked all day fixing things in bundles, and -getting all ready to quit rafting. -That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down -in a lefthand bend. -I went off in the canoe to ask about it. Pretty soon I found a man out -in the river with a skiff, setting a trotline. I ranged up and says -"Mister, is that town Cairo?" -"Cairo? no. You must be a blame' fool." -"What town is it, mister?" -"If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin' around -me for about a half a minute longer you'll get something you won't want." -I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never -mind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned. -We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again but it -was high ground, so I didn't go. No high ground about Cairo, Jim said. -I had forgot it. We laid up for the day on a towhead tolerable close to -the lefthand bank. I begun to suspicion something. So did Jim. I -says -"Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night." -He says -"Doan' le's talk about it, Huck. Po' niggers can't have no luck. I -awluz 'spected dat rattlesnakeskin warn't done wid its work." -"I wish I'd never seen that snakeskin, JimI do wish I'd never laid -eyes on it." -"It ain't yo' fault, Huck you didn' know. Don't you blame yo'self 'bout -it." -When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure enough, -and outside was the old regular Muddy So it was all up with Cairo. -We talked it all over. It wouldn't do to take to the shore we couldn't -take the raft up the stream, of course. There warn't no way but to wait -for dark, and start back in the canoe and take the chances. So we slept -all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as to be fresh for the work, -and when we went back to the raft about dark the canoe was gone -We didn't say a word for a good while. There warn't anything to say. We -both knowed well enough it was some more work of the rattlesnakeskin so -what was the use to talk about it? It would only look like we was -finding fault, and that would be bound to fetch more bad luckand keep -on fetching it, too, till we knowed enough to keep still. -By and by we talked about what we better do, and found there warn't no -way but just to go along down with the raft till we got a chance to buy a -canoe to go back in. We warn't going to borrow it when there warn't -anybody around, the way pap would do, for that might set people after us. -So we shoved out after dark on the raft. -Anybody that don't believe yet that it's foolishness to handle a -snakeskin, after all that that snakeskin done for us, will believe -it now if they read on and see what more it done for us. -The place to buy canoes is off of rafts laying up at shore. But we -didn't see no rafts laying up so we went along during three hours and -more. Well, the night got gray and ruther thick, which is the next -meanest thing to fog. You can't tell the shape of the river, and you -can't see no distance. It got to be very late and still, and then along -comes a steamboat up the river. We lit the lantern, and judged she would -see it. Upstream boats didn't generly come close to us they go out and -follow the bars and hunt for easy water under the reefs but nights like -this they bull right up the channel against the whole river. -We could hear her pounding along, but we didn't see her good till she was -close. She aimed right for us. Often they do that and try to see how -close they can come without touching sometimes the wheel bites off a -sweep, and then the pilot sticks his head out and laughs, and thinks he's -mighty smart. Well, here she comes, and we said she was going to try and -shave us but she didn't seem to be sheering off a bit. She was a big -one, and she was coming in a hurry, too, looking like a black cloud with -rows of glowworms around it but all of a sudden she bulged out, big and -scary, with a long row of wideopen furnace doors shining like redhot -teeth, and her monstrous bows and guards hanging right over us. There -was a yell at us, and a jingling of bells to stop the engines, a powwow -of cussing, and whistling of steamand as Jim went overboard on one side -and I on the other, she come smashing straight through the raft. -I divedand I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirtyfoot wheel had -got to go over me, and I wanted it to have plenty of room. I could -always stay under water a minute this time I reckon I stayed under a -minute and a half. Then I bounced for the top in a hurry, for I was -nearly busting. I popped out to my armpits and blowed the water out of -my nose, and puffed a bit. Of course there was a booming current and of -course that boat started her engines again ten seconds after she stopped -them, for they never cared much for raftsmen so now she was churning -along up the river, out of sight in the thick weather, though I could -hear her. -I sung out for Jim about a dozen times, but I didn't get any answer so I -grabbed a plank that touched me while I was "treading water," and struck -out for shore, shoving it ahead of me. But I made out to see that the -drift of the current was towards the lefthand shore, which meant that I -was in a crossing so I changed off and went that way. -It was one of these long, slanting, twomile crossings so I was a good -long time in getting over. I made a safe landing, and clumb up the bank. -I couldn't see but a little ways, but I went poking along over rough -ground for a quarter of a mile or more, and then I run across a big -oldfashioned double loghouse before I noticed it. I was going to rush -by and get away, but a lot of dogs jumped out and went to howling and -barking at me, and I knowed better than to move another peg. -CHAPTER XVII. -IN about a minute somebody spoke out of a window without putting his head -out, and says -"Be done, boys Who's there?" -I says -"It's me." -"Who's me?" -"George Jackson, sir." -"What do you want?" -"I don't want nothing, sir. I only want to go along by, but the dogs -won't let me." -"What are you prowling around here this time of night forhey?" -"I warn't prowling around, sir, I fell overboard off of the steamboat." -"Oh, you did, did you? Strike a light there, somebody. What did you say -your name was?" -"George Jackson, sir. I'm only a boy." -"Look here, if you're telling the truth you needn't be afraidnobody'll -hurt you. But don't try to budge stand right where you are. Rouse out -Bob and Tom, some of you, and fetch the guns. George Jackson, is there -anybody with you?" -"No, sir, nobody." -I heard the people stirring around in the house now, and see a light. -The man sung out -"Snatch that light away, Betsy, you old foolain't you got any sense? -Put it on the floor behind the front door. Bob, if you and Tom are -ready, take your places." -"All ready." -"Now, George Jackson, do you know the Shepherdsons?" -"No, sir I never heard of them." -"Well, that may be so, and it mayn't. Now, all ready. Step forward, -George Jackson. And mind, don't you hurrycome mighty slow. If there's -anybody with you, let him keep backif he shows himself he'll be shot. -Come along now. Come slow push the door open yourselfjust enough to -squeeze in, d' you hear?" -I didn't hurry I couldn't if I'd a wanted to. I took one slow step at a -time and there warn't a sound, only I thought I could hear my heart. The -dogs were as still as the humans, but they followed a little behind me. -When I got to the three log doorsteps I heard them unlocking and -unbarring and unbolting. I put my hand on the door and pushed it a -little and a little more till somebody said, "There, that's enoughput -your head in." I done it, but I judged they would take it off. -The candle was on the floor, and there they all was, looking at me, and -me at them, for about a quarter of a minute Three big men with guns -pointed at me, which made me wince, I tell you the oldest, gray and -about sixty, the other two thirty or moreall of them fine and handsome -and the sweetest old grayheaded lady, and back of her two young women -which I couldn't see right well. The old gentleman says -"There I reckon it's all right. Come in." -As soon as I was in the old gentleman he locked the door and barred it -and bolted it, and told the young men to come in with their guns, and -they all went in a big parlor that had a new rag carpet on the floor, and -got together in a corner that was out of the range of the front windows -there warn't none on the side. They held the candle, and took a good -look at me, and all said, "Why, HE ain't a Shepherdsonno, there ain't -any Shepherdson about him." Then the old man said he hoped I wouldn't -mind being searched for arms, because he didn't mean no harm by itit -was only to make sure. So he didn't pry into my pockets, but only felt -outside with his hands, and said it was all right. He told me to make -myself easy and at home, and tell all about myself but the old lady -says -"Why, bless you, Saul, the poor thing's as wet as he can be and don't -you reckon it may be he's hungry?" -"True for you, RachelI forgot." -So the old lady says -"Betsy" this was a nigger woman, "you fly around and get him something -to eat as quick as you can, poor thing and one of you girls go and wake -up Buck and tell himoh, here he is himself. Buck, take this little -stranger and get the wet clothes off from him and dress him up in some of -yours that's dry." -Buck looked about as old as methirteen or fourteen or along there, -though he was a little bigger than me. He hadn't on anything but a -shirt, and he was very frowzyheaded. He came in gaping and digging one -fist into his eyes, and he was dragging a gun along with the other one. -He says -"Ain't they no Shepherdsons around?" -They said, no, 'twas a false alarm. -"Well," he says, "if they'd a ben some, I reckon I'd a got one." -They all laughed, and Bob says -"Why, Buck, they might have scalped us all, you've been so slow in -coming." -"Well, nobody come after me, and it ain't right I'm always kept down I -don't get no show." -"Never mind, Buck, my boy," says the old man, "you'll have show enough, -all in good time, don't you fret about that. Go 'long with you now, and -do as your mother told you." -When we got upstairs to his room he got me a coarse shirt and a -roundabout and pants of his, and I put them on. While I was at it he -asked me what my name was, but before I could tell him he started to tell -me about a bluejay and a young rabbit he had catched in the woods day -before yesterday, and he asked me where Moses was when the candle went -out. I said I didn't know I hadn't heard about it before, no way. -"Well, guess," he says. -"How'm I going to guess," says I, "when I never heard tell of it before?" -"But you can guess, can't you? It's just as easy." -"WHICH candle?" I says. -"Why, any candle," he says. -"I don't know where he was," says I "where was he?" -"Why, he was in the DARK That's where he was" -"Well, if you knowed where he was, what did you ask me for?" -"Why, blame it, it's a riddle, don't you see? Say, how long are you -going to stay here? You got to stay always. We can just have booming -timesthey don't have no school now. Do you own a dog? I've got a -dogand he'll go in the river and bring out chips that you throw in. Do -you like to comb up Sundays, and all that kind of foolishness? You bet I -don't, but ma she makes me. Confound these ole britches I reckon I'd -better put 'em on, but I'd ruther not, it's so warm. Are you all ready? -All right. Come along, old hoss." -Cold cornpone, cold cornbeef, butter and buttermilkthat is what they -had for me down there, and there ain't nothing better that ever I've come -across yet. Buck and his ma and all of them smoked cob pipes, except the -nigger woman, which was gone, and the two young women. They all smoked -and talked, and I eat and talked. The young women had quilts around -them, and their hair down their backs. They all asked me questions, and -I told them how pap and me and all the family was living on a little farm -down at the bottom of Arkansaw, and my sister Mary Ann run off and got -married and never was heard of no more, and Bill went to hunt them and he -warn't heard of no more, and Tom and Mort died, and then there warn't -nobody but just me and pap left, and he was just trimmed down to nothing, -on account of his troubles so when he died I took what there was left, -because the farm didn't belong to us, and started up the river, deck -passage, and fell overboard and that was how I come to be here. So they -said I could have a home there as long as I wanted it. Then it was most -daylight and everybody went to bed, and I went to bed with Buck, and when -I waked up in the morning, drat it all, I had forgot what my name was. -So I laid there about an hour trying to think, and when Buck waked up I -says -"Can you spell, Buck?" -"Yes," he says. -"I bet you can't spell my name," says I. -"I bet you what you dare I can," says he. -"All right," says I, "go ahead." -"George Jaxonthere now," he says. -"Well," says I, "you done it, but I didn't think you could. It ain't no -slouch of a name to spellright off without studying." -I set it down, private, because somebody might want ME to spell it next, -and so I wanted to be handy with it and rattle it off like I was used to -it. -It was a mighty nice family, and a mighty nice house, too. I hadn't seen -no house out in the country before that was so nice and had so much -style. It didn't have an iron latch on the front door, nor a wooden one -with a buckskin string, but a brass knob to turn, the same as houses in -town. There warn't no bed in the parlor, nor a sign of a bed but heaps -of parlors in towns has beds in them. There was a big fireplace that was -bricked on the bottom, and the bricks was kept clean and red by pouring -water on them and scrubbing them with another brick sometimes they wash -them over with red waterpaint that they call Spanishbrown, same as they -do in town. They had big brass dogirons that could hold up a sawlog. -There was a clock on the middle of the mantelpiece, with a picture of a -town painted on the bottom half of the glass front, and a round place in -the middle of it for the sun, and you could see the pendulum swinging -behind it. It was beautiful to hear that clock tick and sometimes when -one of these peddlers had been along and scoured her up and got her in -good shape, she would start in and strike a hundred and fifty before she -got tuckered out. They wouldn't took any money for her. -Well, there was a big outlandish parrot on each side of the clock, made -out of something like chalk, and painted up gaudy. By one of the parrots -was a cat made of crockery, and a crockery dog by the other and when you -pressed down on them they squeaked, but didn't open their mouths nor look -different nor interested. They squeaked through underneath. There was a -couple of big wildturkeywing fans spread out behind those things. On -the table in the middle of the room was a kind of a lovely crockery -basket that had apples and oranges and peaches and grapes piled up in it, -which was much redder and yellower and prettier than real ones is, but -they warn't real because you could see where pieces had got chipped off -and showed the white chalk, or whatever it was, underneath. -This table had a cover made out of beautiful oilcloth, with a red and -blue spreadeagle painted on it, and a painted border all around. It -come all the way from Philadelphia, they said. There was some books, -too, piled up perfectly exact, on each corner of the table. One was a -big family Bible full of pictures. One was Pilgrim's Progress, about a -man that left his family, it didn't say why. I read considerable in it -now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough. Another was -Friendship's Offering, full of beautiful stuff and poetry but I didn't -read the poetry. Another was Henry Clay's Speeches, and another was Dr. -Gunn's Family Medicine, which told you all about what to do if a body was -sick or dead. There was a hymn book, and a lot of other books. And -there was nice splitbottom chairs, and perfectly sound, toonot bagged -down in the middle and busted, like an old basket. -They had pictures hung on the wallsmainly Washingtons and Lafayettes, -and battles, and Highland Marys, and one called "Signing the -Declaration." There was some that they called crayons, which one of the -daughters which was dead made her own self when she was only fifteen -years old. They was different from any pictures I ever see before -blacker, mostly, than is common. One was a woman in a slim black dress, -belted small under the armpits, with bulges like a cabbage in the middle -of the sleeves, and a large black scoopshovel bonnet with a black veil, -and white slim ankles crossed about with black tape, and very wee black -slippers, like a chisel, and she was leaning pensive on a tombstone on -her right elbow, under a weeping willow, and her other hand hanging down -her side holding a white handkerchief and a reticule, and underneath the -picture it said "Shall I Never See Thee More Alas." Another one was a -young lady with her hair all combed up straight to the top of her head, -and knotted there in front of a comb like a chairback, and she was -crying into a handkerchief and had a dead bird laying on its back in her -other hand with its heels up, and underneath the picture it said "I Shall -Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas." There was one where a young -lady was at a window looking up at the moon, and tears running down her -cheeks and she had an open letter in one hand with black sealing wax -showing on one edge of it, and she was mashing a locket with a chain to -it against her mouth, and underneath the picture it said "And Art Thou -Gone Yes Thou Art Gone Alas." These was all nice pictures, I reckon, but -I didn't somehow seem to take to them, because if ever I was down a -little they always give me the fantods. Everybody was sorry she died, -because she had laid out a lot more of these pictures to do, and a body -could see by what she had done what they had lost. But I reckoned that -with her disposition she was having a better time in the graveyard. She -was at work on what they said was her greatest picture when she took -sick, and every day and every night it was her prayer to be allowed to -live till she got it done, but she never got the chance. It was a -picture of a young woman in a long white gown, standing on the rail of a -bridge all ready to jump off, with her hair all down her back, and -looking up to the moon, with the tears running down her face, and she had -two arms folded across her breast, and two arms stretched out in front, -and two more reaching up towards the moonand the idea was to see which -pair would look best, and then scratch out all the other arms but, as I -was saying, she died before she got her mind made up, and now they kept -this picture over the head of the bed in her room, and every time her -birthday come they hung flowers on it. Other times it was hid with a -little curtain. The young woman in the picture had a kind of a nice -sweet face, but there was so many arms it made her look too spidery, -seemed to me. -This young girl kept a scrapbook when she was alive, and used to paste -obituaries and accidents and cases of patient suffering in it out of the -Presbyterian Observer, and write poetry after them out of her own head. -It was very good poetry. This is what she wrote about a boy by the name -of Stephen Dowling Bots that fell down a well and was drownded -ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS, DEC'D -And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die? And did the sad -hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry? -No such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots Though sad -hearts round him thickened, 'Twas not from sickness' shots. -No whoopingcough did rack his frame, Nor measles drear with spots Not -these impaired the sacred name Of Stephen Dowling Bots. -Despised love struck not with woe That head of curly knots, Nor stomach -troubles laid him low, Young Stephen Dowling Bots. -O no. Then list with tearful eye, Whilst I his fate do tell. His soul -did from this cold world fly By falling down a well. -They got him out and emptied him Alas it was too late His spirit was -gone for to sport aloft In the realms of the good and great. -If Emmeline Grangerford could make poetry like that before she was -fourteen, there ain't no telling what she could a done by and by. Buck -said she could rattle off poetry like nothing. She didn't ever have to -stop to think. He said she would slap down a line, and if she couldn't -find anything to rhyme with it would just scratch it out and slap down -another one, and go ahead. She warn't particular she could write about -anything you choose to give her to write about just so it was sadful. -Every time a man died, or a woman died, or a child died, she would be on -hand with her "tribute" before he was cold. She called them tributes. -The neighbors said it was the doctor first, then Emmeline, then the -undertakerthe undertaker never got in ahead of Emmeline but once, and -then she hung fire on a rhyme for the dead person's name, which was -Whistler. She warn't ever the same after that she never complained, but -she kinder pined away and did not live long. Poor thing, many's the time -I made myself go up to the little room that used to be hers and get out -her poor old scrapbook and read in it when her pictures had been -aggravating me and I had soured on her a little. I liked all that -family, dead ones and all, and warn't going to let anything come between -us. Poor Emmeline made poetry about all the dead people when she was -alive, and it didn't seem right that there warn't nobody to make some -about her now she was gone so I tried to sweat out a verse or two -myself, but I couldn't seem to make it go somehow. They kept Emmeline's -room trim and nice, and all the things fixed in it just the way she liked -to have them when she was alive, and nobody ever slept there. The old -lady took care of the room herself, though there was plenty of niggers, -and she sewed there a good deal and read her Bible there mostly. -Well, as I was saying about the parlor, there was beautiful curtains on -the windows white, with pictures painted on them of castles with vines -all down the walls, and cattle coming down to drink. There was a little -old piano, too, that had tin pans in it, I reckon, and nothing was ever -so lovely as to hear the young ladies sing "The Last Link is Broken" and -play "The Battle of Prague" on it. The walls of all the rooms was -plastered, and most had carpets on the floors, and the whole house was -whitewashed on the outside. -It was a double house, and the big open place betwixt them was roofed and -floored, and sometimes the table was set there in the middle of the day, -and it was a cool, comfortable place. Nothing couldn't be better. And -warn't the cooking good, and just bushels of it too -CHAPTER XVIII. -COL. GRANGERFORD was a gentleman, you see. He was a gentleman all over -and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and that's -worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, -and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town -and pap he always said it, too, though he warn't no more quality than a -mudcat himself. Col. Grangerford was very tall and very slim, and had a -darkishpaly complexion, not a sign of red in it anywheres he was clean -shaved every morning all over his thin face, and he had the thinnest kind -of lips, and the thinnest kind of nostrils, and a high nose, and heavy -eyebrows, and the blackest kind of eyes, sunk so deep back that they -seemed like they was looking out of caverns at you, as you may say. His -forehead was high, and his hair was black and straight and hung to his -shoulders. His hands was long and thin, and every day of his life he put -on a clean shirt and a full suit from head to foot made out of linen so -white it hurt your eyes to look at it and on Sundays he wore a blue -tailcoat with brass buttons on it. He carried a mahogany cane with a -silver head to it. There warn't no frivolishness about him, not a bit, -and he warn't ever loud. He was as kind as he could beyou could feel -that, you know, and so you had confidence. Sometimes he smiled, and it -was good to see but when he straightened himself up like a libertypole, -and the lightning begun to flicker out from under his eyebrows, you -wanted to climb a tree first, and find out what the matter was -afterwards. He didn't ever have to tell anybody to mind their manners -everybody was always goodmannered where he was. Everybody loved to have -him around, too he was sunshine most alwaysI mean he made it seem -like good weather. When he turned into a cloudbank it was awful dark for -half a minute, and that was enough there wouldn't nothing go wrong again -for a week. -When him and the old lady come down in the morning all the family got up -out of their chairs and give them goodday, and didn't set down again -till they had set down. Then Tom and Bob went to the sideboard where the -decanter was, and mixed a glass of bitters and handed it to him, and he -held it in his hand and waited till Tom's and Bob's was mixed, and then -they bowed and said, "Our duty to you, sir, and madam" and THEY bowed -the least bit in the world and said thank you, and so they drank, all -three, and Bob and Tom poured a spoonful of water on the sugar and the -mite of whisky or apple brandy in the bottom of their tumblers, and give -it to me and Buck, and we drank to the old people too. -Bob was the oldest and Tom nexttall, beautiful men with very broad -shoulders and brown faces, and long black hair and black eyes. They -dressed in white linen from head to foot, like the old gentleman, and -wore broad Panama hats. -Then there was Miss Charlotte she was twentyfive, and tall and proud -and grand, but as good as she could be when she warn't stirred up but -when she was she had a look that would make you wilt in your tracks, like -her father. She was beautiful. -So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind. She was -gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was only twenty. -Each person had their own nigger to wait on themBuck too. My nigger -had a monstrous easy time, because I warn't used to having anybody do -anything for me, but Buck's was on the jump most of the time. -This was all there was of the family now, but there used to be more -three sons they got killed and Emmeline that died. -The old gentleman owned a lot of farms and over a hundred niggers. -Sometimes a stack of people would come there, horseback, from ten or -fifteen mile around, and stay five or six days, and have such junketings -round about and on the river, and dances and picnics in the woods -daytimes, and balls at the house nights. These people was mostly -kinfolks of the family. The men brought their guns with them. It was a -handsome lot of quality, I tell you. -There was another clan of aristocracy around therefive or six families -mostly of the name of Shepherdson. They was as hightoned and well -born and rich and grand as the tribe of Grangerfords. The Shepherdsons -and Grangerfords used the same steamboat landing, which was about two -mile above our house so sometimes when I went up there with a lot of our -folks I used to see a lot of the Shepherdsons there on their fine horses. -One day Buck and me was away out in the woods hunting, and heard a horse -coming. We was crossing the road. Buck says -"Quick Jump for the woods" -We done it, and then peeped down the woods through the leaves. Pretty -soon a splendid young man come galloping down the road, setting his horse -easy and looking like a soldier. He had his gun across his pommel. I -had seen him before. It was young Harney Shepherdson. I heard Buck's -gun go off at my ear, and Harney's hat tumbled off from his head. He -grabbed his gun and rode straight to the place where we was hid. But we -didn't wait. We started through the woods on a run. The woods warn't -thick, so I looked over my shoulder to dodge the bullet, and twice I seen -Harney cover Buck with his gun and then he rode away the way he cometo -get his hat, I reckon, but I couldn't see. We never stopped running till -we got home. The old gentleman's eyes blazed a minute'twas pleasure, -mainly, I judgedthen his face sort of smoothed down, and he says, -kind of gentle -"I don't like that shooting from behind a bush. Why didn't you step into -the road, my boy?" -"The Shepherdsons don't, father. They always take advantage." -Miss Charlotte she held her head up like a queen while Buck was telling -his tale, and her nostrils spread and her eyes snapped. The two young -men looked dark, but never said nothing. Miss Sophia she turned pale, -but the color come back when she found the man warn't hurt. -Soon as I could get Buck down by the corncribs under the trees by -ourselves, I says -"Did you want to kill him, Buck?" -"Well, I bet I did." -"What did he do to you?" -"Him? He never done nothing to me." -"Well, then, what did you want to kill him for?" -"Why, nothingonly it's on account of the feud." -"What's a feud?" -"Why, where was you raised? Don't you know what a feud is?" -"Never heard of it beforetell me about it." -"Well," says Buck, "a feud is this way A man has a quarrel with another -man, and kills him then that other man's brother kills HIM then the -other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another then the COUSINS -chip inand by and by everybody's killed off, and there ain't no more -feud. But it's kind of slow, and takes a long time." -"Has this one been going on long, Buck?" -"Well, I should RECKON It started thirty year ago, or som'ers along -there. There was trouble 'bout something, and then a lawsuit to settle -it and the suit went agin one of the men, and so he up and shot the man -that won the suitwhich he would naturally do, of course. Anybody -would." -"What was the trouble about, Buck?land?" -"I reckon maybeI don't know." -"Well, who done the shooting? Was it a Grangerford or a Shepherdson?" -"Laws, how do I know? It was so long ago." -"Don't anybody know?" -"Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people but they -don't know now what the row was about in the first place." -"Has there been many killed, Buck?" -"Yes right smart chance of funerals. But they don't always kill. Pa's -got a few buckshot in him but he don't mind it 'cuz he don't weigh much, -anyway. Bob's been carved up some with a bowie, and Tom's been hurt once -or twice." -"Has anybody been killed this year, Buck?" -"Yes we got one and they got one. 'Bout three months ago my cousin Bud, -fourteen year old, was riding through the woods on t'other side of the -river, and didn't have no weapon with him, which was blame' foolishness, -and in a lonesome place he hears a horse acoming behind him, and sees -old Baldy Shepherdson alinkin' after him with his gun in his hand and -his white hair aflying in the wind and 'stead of jumping off and taking -to the brush, Bud 'lowed he could outrun him so they had it, nip and -tuck, for five mile or more, the old man againing all the time so at -last Bud seen it warn't any use, so he stopped and faced around so as to -have the bullet holes in front, you know, and the old man he rode up and -shot him down. But he didn't git much chance to enjoy his luck, for -inside of a week our folks laid HIM out." -"I reckon that old man was a coward, Buck." -"I reckon he WARN'T a coward. Not by a blame' sight. There ain't a -coward amongst them Shepherdsonsnot a one. And there ain't no cowards -amongst the Grangerfords either. Why, that old man kep' up his end in a -fight one day for half an hour against three Grangerfords, and come out -winner. They was all ahorseback he lit off of his horse and got behind -a little woodpile, and kep' his horse before him to stop the bullets but -the Grangerfords stayed on their horses and capered around the old man, -and peppered away at him, and he peppered away at them. Him and his -horse both went home pretty leaky and crippled, but the Grangerfords had -to be FETCHED homeand one of 'em was dead, and another died the next -day. No, sir if a body's out hunting for cowards he don't want to fool -away any time amongst them Shepherdsons, becuz they don't breed any of -that KIND." -Next Sunday we all went to church, about three mile, everybody -ahorseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them -between their knees or stood them handy against the wall. The -Shepherdsons done the same. It was pretty ornery preachingall about -brotherly love, and suchlike tiresomeness but everybody said it was a -good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a -powerful lot to say about faith and good works and free grace and -preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me -to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet. -About an hour after dinner everybody was dozing around, some in their -chairs and some in their rooms, and it got to be pretty dull. Buck and a -dog was stretched out on the grass in the sun sound asleep. I went up to -our room, and judged I would take a nap myself. I found that sweet Miss -Sophia standing in her door, which was next to ours, and she took me in -her room and shut the door very soft, and asked me if I liked her, and I -said I did and she asked me if I would do something for her and not tell -anybody, and I said I would. Then she said she'd forgot her Testament, -and left it in the seat at church between two other books, and would I -slip out quiet and go there and fetch it to her, and not say nothing to -nobody. I said I would. So I slid out and slipped off up the road, and -there warn't anybody at the church, except maybe a hog or two, for there -warn't any lock on the door, and hogs likes a puncheon floor in -summertime because it's cool. If you notice, most folks don't go -to church only when they've got to but a hog is different. -Says I to myself, something's up it ain't natural for a girl to be in -such a sweat about a Testament. So I give it a shake, and out drops a -little piece of paper with "HALFPAST TWO" wrote on it with a pencil. I -ransacked it, but couldn't find anything else. I couldn't make anything -out of that, so I put the paper in the book again, and when I got home -and upstairs there was Miss Sophia in her door waiting for me. She -pulled me in and shut the door then she looked in the Testament till she -found the paper, and as soon as she read it she looked glad and before a -body could think she grabbed me and give me a squeeze, and said I was the -best boy in the world, and not to tell anybody. She was mighty red in -the face for a minute, and her eyes lighted up, and it made her powerful -pretty. I was a good deal astonished, but when I got my breath I asked -her what the paper was about, and she asked me if I had read it, and I -said no, and she asked me if I could read writing, and I told her "no, -only coarsehand," and then she said the paper warn't anything but a -bookmark to keep her place, and I might go and play now. -I went off down to the river, studying over this thing, and pretty soon I -noticed that my nigger was following along behind. When we was out of -sight of the house he looked back and around a second, and then comes -arunning, and says -"Mars Jawge, if you'll come down into de swamp I'll show you a whole -stack o' watermoccasins." -Thinks I, that's mighty curious he said that yesterday. He oughter know -a body don't love watermoccasins enough to go around hunting for them. -What is he up to, anyway? So I says -"All right trot ahead." -I followed a half a mile then he struck out over the swamp, and waded -ankle deep as much as another halfmile. We come to a little flat piece -of land which was dry and very thick with trees and bushes and vines, and -he says -"You shove right in dah jist a few steps, Mars Jawge dah's whah dey is. -I's seed 'm befo' I don't k'yer to see 'em no mo'." -Then he slopped right along and went away, and pretty soon the trees hid -him. I poked into the place aways and come to a little open patch as -big as a bedroom all hung around with vines, and found a man laying there -asleepand, by jings, it was my old Jim -I waked him up, and I reckoned it was going to be a grand surprise to him -to see me again, but it warn't. He nearly cried he was so glad, but he -warn't surprised. Said he swum along behind me that night, and heard me -yell every time, but dasn't answer, because he didn't want nobody to pick -HIM up and take him into slavery again. Says he -"I got hurt a little, en couldn't swim fas', so I wuz a considable ways -behine you towards de las' when you landed I reck'ned I could ketch up -wid you on de lan' 'dout havin' to shout at you, but when I see dat house -I begin to go slow. I 'uz off too fur to hear what dey say to youI wuz -'fraid o' de dogs but when it 'uz all quiet agin I knowed you's in de -house, so I struck out for de woods to wait for day. Early in de mawnin' -some er de niggers come along, gwyne to de fields, en dey tuk me en -showed me dis place, whah de dogs can't track me on accounts o' de water, -en dey brings me truck to eat every night, en tells me how you's agitt'n -along." -"Why didn't you tell my Jack to fetch me here sooner, Jim?" -"Well, 'twarn't no use to 'sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfnbut -we's all right now. I ben abuyin' pots en pans en vittles, as I got a -chanst, en apatchin' up de raf' nights when" -"WHAT raft, Jim?" -"Our ole raf'." -"You mean to say our old raft warn't smashed all to flinders?" -"No, she warn't. She was tore up a good dealone en' of her was but -dey warn't no great harm done, on'y our traps was mos' all los'. Ef we -hadn' dive' so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn' ben so -dark, en we warn't so sk'yerd, en ben sich punkinheads, as de sayin' is, -we'd a seed de raf'. But it's jis' as well we didn't, 'kase now she's -all fixed up agin mos' as good as new, en we's got a new lot o' stuff, in -de place o' what 'uz los'." -"Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jimdid you catch her?" -"How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods? No some er de niggers -foun' her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben', en dey hid her in a -crick 'mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin' 'bout which un 'um -she b'long to de mos' dat I come to heah 'bout it pooty soon, so I ups en -settles de trouble by tellin' 'um she don't b'long to none uv um, but to -you en me en I ast 'm if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman's -propaty, en git a hid'n for it? Den I gin 'm ten cents apiece, en dey -'uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo' raf's 'ud come along en make -'m rich agin. Dey's mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I -wants 'm to do fur me I doan' have to ast 'm twice, honey. Dat Jack's a -good nigger, en pooty smart." -"Yes, he is. He ain't ever told me you was here told me to come, and -he'd show me a lot of watermoccasins. If anything happens HE ain't -mixed up in it. He can say he never seen us together, and it 'll be the -truth." -I don't want to talk much about the next day. I reckon I'll cut it -pretty short. I waked up about dawn, and was agoing to turn over and go -to sleep again when I noticed how still it wasdidn't seem to be anybody -stirring. That warn't usual. Next I noticed that Buck was up and gone. -Well, I gets up, awondering, and goes down stairsnobody around -everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks I, what -does it mean? Down by the woodpile I comes across my Jack, and says -"What's it all about?" -Says he -"Don't you know, Mars Jawge?" -"No," says I, "I don't." -"Well, den, Miss Sophia's run off 'deed she has. She run off in de -night some timenobody don't know jis' when run off to get married to -dat young Harney Shepherdson, you knowleastways, so dey 'spec. De -fambly foun' it out 'bout half an hour agomaybe a little mo'en' I -TELL you dey warn't no time los'. Sich another hurryin' up guns en -hosses YOU never see De women folks has gone for to stir up de -relations, en ole Mars Saul en de boys tuck dey guns en rode up de river -road for to try to ketch dat young man en kill him 'fo' he kin git acrost -de river wid Miss Sophia. I reck'n dey's gwyne to be mighty rough -times." -"Buck went off 'thout waking me up." -"Well, I reck'n he DID Dey warn't gwyne to mix you up in it. Mars Buck -he loaded up his gun en 'lowed he's gwyne to fetch home a Shepherdson or -bust. Well, dey'll be plenty un 'm dah, I reck'n, en you bet you he'll -fetch one ef he gits a chanst." -I took up the river road as hard as I could put. By and by I begin to -hear guns a good ways off. When I came in sight of the log store and the -woodpile where the steamboats lands I worked along under the trees and -brush till I got to a good place, and then I clumb up into the forks of a -cottonwood that was out of reach, and watched. There was a woodrank -four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I was going -to hide behind that but maybe it was luckier I didn't. -There was four or five men cavorting around on their horses in the open -place before the log store, cussing and yelling, and trying to get at a -couple of young chaps that was behind the woodrank alongside of the -steamboat landing but they couldn't come it. Every time one of them -showed himself on the river side of the woodpile he got shot at. The two -boys was squatting back to back behind the pile, so they could watch both -ways. -By and by the men stopped cavorting around and yelling. They started -riding towards the store then up gets one of the boys, draws a steady -bead over the woodrank, and drops one of them out of his saddle. All -the men jumped off of their horses and grabbed the hurt one and started -to carry him to the store and that minute the two boys started on the -run. They got half way to the tree I was in before the men noticed. -Then the men see them, and jumped on their horses and took out after -them. They gained on the boys, but it didn't do no good, the boys had -too good a start they got to the woodpile that was in front of my tree, -and slipped in behind it, and so they had the bulge on the men again. -One of the boys was Buck, and the other was a slim young chap about -nineteen years old. -The men ripped around awhile, and then rode away. As soon as they was -out of sight I sung out to Buck and told him. He didn't know what to -make of my voice coming out of the tree at first. He was awful -surprised. He told me to watch out sharp and let him know when the men -come in sight again said they was up to some devilment or other -wouldn't be gone long. I wished I was out of that tree, but I dasn't -come down. Buck begun to cry and rip, and 'lowed that him and his cousin -Joe that was the other young chap would make up for this day yet. He -said his father and his two brothers was killed, and two or three of the -enemy. Said the Shepherdsons laid for them in ambush. Buck said his -father and brothers ought to waited for their relationsthe Shepherdsons -was too strong for them. I asked him what was become of young Harney and -Miss Sophia. He said they'd got across the river and was safe. I was -glad of that but the way Buck did take on because he didn't manage to -kill Harney that day he shot at himI hain't ever heard anything like -it. -All of a sudden, bang bang bang goes three or four gunsthe men had -slipped around through the woods and come in from behind without their -horses The boys jumped for the riverboth of them hurtand as they -swum down the current the men run along the bank shooting at them and -singing out, "Kill them, kill them" It made me so sick I most fell out -of the tree. I ain't agoing to tell ALL that happenedit would make me -sick again if I was to do that. I wished I hadn't ever come ashore that -night to see such things. I ain't ever going to get shut of themlots -of times I dream about them. -I stayed in the tree till it begun to get dark, afraid to come down. -Sometimes I heard guns away off in the woods and twice I seen little -gangs of men gallop past the log store with guns so I reckoned the -trouble was still agoing on. I was mighty downhearted so I made up my -mind I wouldn't ever go anear that house again, because I reckoned I was -to blame, somehow. I judged that that piece of paper meant that Miss -Sophia was to meet Harney somewheres at halfpast two and run off and I -judged I ought to told her father about that paper and the curious way -she acted, and then maybe he would a locked her up, and this awful mess -wouldn't ever happened. -When I got down out of the tree I crept along down the river bank a -piece, and found the two bodies laying in the edge of the water, and -tugged at them till I got them ashore then I covered up their faces, and -got away as quick as I could. I cried a little when I was covering up -Buck's face, for he was mighty good to me. -It was just dark now. I never went near the house, but struck through -the woods and made for the swamp. Jim warn't on his island, so I tramped -off in a hurry for the crick, and crowded through the willows, redhot to -jump aboard and get out of that awful country. The raft was gone My -souls, but I was scared I couldn't get my breath for most a minute. -Then I raised a yell. A voice not twentyfive foot from me says -"Good lan' is dat you, honey? Doan' make no noise." -It was Jim's voicenothing ever sounded so good before. I run along the -bank a piece and got aboard, and Jim he grabbed me and hugged me, he was -so glad to see me. He says -"Laws bless you, chile, I 'uz right down sho' you's dead agin. Jack's -been heah he say he reck'n you's ben shot, kase you didn' come home no -mo' so I's jes' dis minute a startin' de raf' down towards de mouf er de -crick, so's to be all ready for to shove out en leave soon as Jack comes -agin en tells me for certain you IS dead. Lawsy, I's mighty glad to git -you back again, honey." -I says -"All rightthat's mighty good they won't find me, and they'll think -I've been killed, and floated down the riverthere's something up there -that 'll help them think soso don't you lose no time, Jim, but just -shove off for the big water as fast as ever you can." -I never felt easy till the raft was two mile below there and out in the -middle of the Mississippi. Then we hung up our signal lantern, and -judged that we was free and safe once more. I hadn't had a bite to eat -since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corndodgers and buttermilk, and -pork and cabbage and greensthere ain't nothing in the world so good -when it's cooked rightand whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a -good time. I was powerful glad to get away from the feuds, and so was -Jim to get away from the swamp. We said there warn't no home like a -raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a -raft don't. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft. -CHAPTER XIX. -TWO or three days and nights went by I reckon I might say they swum by, -they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put -in the time. It was a monstrous big river down theresometimes a mile -and a half wide we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes soon as -night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied upnearly always in -the dead water under a towhead and then cut young cottonwoods and -willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next we -slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool off -then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee deep, -and watched the daylight come. Not a sound anywheresperfectly still -just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs -acluttering, maybe. The first thing to see, looking away over the water, -was a kind of dull linethat was the woods on t'other side you couldn't -make nothing else out then a pale place in the sky then more paleness -spreading around then the river softened up away off, and warn't black -any more, but gray you could see little dark spots drifting along ever -so far awaytrading scows, and such things and long black streaks -rafts sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking or jumbled up voices, -it was so still, and sounds come so far and by and by you could see a -streak on the water which you know by the look of the streak that there's -a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it and makes that streak -look that way and you see the mist curl up off of the water, and the -east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a logcabin in the edge -of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side of the river, being a -woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can throw a dog through -it anywheres then the nice breeze springs up, and comes fanning you from -over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell on account of the woods -and the flowers but sometimes not that way, because they've left dead -fish laying around, gars and such, and they do get pretty rank and next -you've got the full day, and everything smiling in the sun, and the -songbirds just going it -A little smoke couldn't be noticed now, so we would take some fish off of -the lines and cook up a hot breakfast. And afterwards we would watch the -lonesomeness of the river, and kind of lazy along, and by and by lazy off -to sleep. Wake up by and by, and look to see what done it, and maybe see -a steamboat coughing along upstream, so far off towards the other side -you couldn't tell nothing about her only whether she was a sternwheel or -sidewheel then for about an hour there wouldn't be nothing to hear nor -nothing to seejust solid lonesomeness. Next you'd see a raft sliding -by, away off yonder, and maybe a galoot on it chopping, because they're -most always doing it on a raft you'd see the axe flash and come down -you don't hear nothing you see that axe go up again, and by the time -it's above the man's head then you hear the K'CHUNKit had took all -that time to come over the water. So we would put in the day, lazying -around, listening to the stillness. Once there was a thick fog, and the -rafts and things that went by was beating tin pans so the steamboats -wouldn't run over them. A scow or a raft went by so close we could hear -them talking and cussing and laughingheard them plain but we couldn't -see no sign of them it made you feel crawly it was like spirits -carrying on that way in the air. Jim said he believed it was spirits -but I says -"No spirits wouldn't say, 'Dern the dern fog.'" -Soon as it was night out we shoved when we got her out to about the -middle we let her alone, and let her float wherever the current wanted -her to then we lit the pipes, and dangled our legs in the water, and -talked about all kinds of thingswe was always naked, day and night, -whenever the mosquitoes would let usthe new clothes Buck's folks made -for me was too good to be comfortable, and besides I didn't go much on -clothes, nohow. -Sometimes we'd have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest -time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water and maybe a -sparkwhich was a candle in a cabin window and sometimes on the water -you could see a spark or twoon a raft or a scow, you know and maybe -you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. -It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled -with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and -discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he -allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened I judged it would -have took too long to MAKE so many. Jim said the moon could a LAID them -well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it, -because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. -We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim -allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the nest. -Once or twice of a night we would see a steamboat slipping along in the -dark, and now and then she would belch a whole world of sparks up out of -her chimbleys, and they would rain down in the river and look awful -pretty then she would turn a corner and her lights would wink out and -her powwow shut off and leave the river still again and by and by her -waves would get to us, a long time after she was gone, and joggle the -raft a bit, and after that you wouldn't hear nothing for you couldn't -tell how long, except maybe frogs or something. -After midnight the people on shore went to bed, and then for two or three -hours the shores was blackno more sparks in the cabin windows. These -sparks was our clockthe first one that showed again meant morning was -coming, so we hunted a place to hide and tie up right away. -One morning about daybreak I found a canoe and crossed over a chute to -the main shoreit was only two hundred yardsand paddled about a mile -up a crick amongst the cypress woods, to see if I couldn't get some -berries. Just as I was passing a place where a kind of a cowpath crossed -the crick, here comes a couple of men tearing up the path as tight as -they could foot it. I thought I was a goner, for whenever anybody was -after anybody I judged it was MEor maybe Jim. I was about to dig out -from there in a hurry, but they was pretty close to me then, and sung out -and begged me to save their livessaid they hadn't been doing nothing, -and was being chased for itsaid there was men and dogs acoming. They -wanted to jump right in, but I says -"Don't you do it. I don't hear the dogs and horses yet you've got time -to crowd through the brush and get up the crick a little ways then you -take to the water and wade down to me and get inthat'll throw the dogs -off the scent." -They done it, and soon as they was aboard I lit out for our towhead, and -in about five or ten minutes we heard the dogs and the men away off, -shouting. We heard them come along towards the crick, but couldn't see -them they seemed to stop and fool around a while then, as we got -further and further away all the time, we couldn't hardly hear them at -all by the time we had left a mile of woods behind us and struck the -river, everything was quiet, and we paddled over to the towhead and hid -in the cottonwoods and was safe. -One of these fellows was about seventy or upwards, and had a bald head -and very gray whiskers. He had an old batteredup slouch hat on, and a -greasy blue woollen shirt, and ragged old blue jeans britches stuffed -into his boottops, and homeknit gallusesno, he only had one. He had -an old longtailed blue jeans coat with slick brass buttons flung over -his arm, and both of them had big, fat, rattylooking carpetbags. -The other fellow was about thirty, and dressed about as ornery. After -breakfast we all laid off and talked, and the first thing that come out -was that these chaps didn't know one another. -"What got you into trouble?" says the baldhead to t'other chap. -"Well, I'd been selling an article to take the tartar off the teethand -it does take it off, too, and generly the enamel along with itbut I -stayed about one night longer than I ought to, and was just in the act of -sliding out when I ran across you on the trail this side of town, and you -told me they were coming, and begged me to help you to get off. So I -told you I was expecting trouble myself, and would scatter out WITH you. -That's the whole yarnwhat's yourn? -"Well, I'd ben arunning' a little temperance revival thar 'bout a week, -and was the pet of the women folks, big and little, for I was makin' it -mighty warm for the rummies, I TELL you, and takin' as much as five or -six dollars a nightten cents a head, children and niggers freeand -business agrowin' all the time, when somehow or another a little report -got around last night that I had a way of puttin' in my time with a -private jug on the sly. A nigger rousted me out this mornin', and told -me the people was getherin' on the quiet with their dogs and horses, and -they'd be along pretty soon and give me 'bout half an hour's start, and -then run me down if they could and if they got me they'd tar and feather -me and ride me on a rail, sure. I didn't wait for no breakfastI warn't -hungry." -"Old man," said the young one, "I reckon we might doubleteam it -together what do you think?" -"I ain't undisposed. What's your linemainly?" -"Jour printer by trade do a little in patent medicines theateractor -tragedy, you know take a turn to mesmerism and phrenology when there's a -chance teach singinggeography school for a change sling a lecture -sometimesoh, I do lots of thingsmost anything that comes handy, so it -ain't work. What's your lay?" -"I've done considerble in the doctoring way in my time. Layin' on o' -hands is my best holtfor cancer and paralysis, and sich things and I -k'n tell a fortune pretty good when I've got somebody along to find out -the facts for me. Preachin's my line, too, and workin' campmeetin's, -and missionaryin' around." -Nobody never said anything for a while then the young man hove a sigh -and says -"Alas" -"What 're you alassin' about?" says the baldhead. -"To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be degraded -down into such company." And he begun to wipe the corner of his eye with -a rag. -"Dern your skin, ain't the company good enough for you?" says the -baldhead, pretty pert and uppish. -"Yes, it IS good enough for me it's as good as I deserve for who -fetched me so low when I was so high? I did myself. I don't blame YOU, -gentlemenfar from it I don't blame anybody. I deserve it all. Let -the cold world do its worst one thing I knowthere's a grave somewhere -for me. The world may go on just as it's always done, and take everything -from meloved ones, property, everything but it can't take that. -Some day I'll lie down in it and forget it all, and my poor broken heart -will be at rest." He went on awiping. -"Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead "what are you heaving -your pore broken heart at US f'r? WE hain't done nothing." -"No, I know you haven't. I ain't blaming you, gentlemen. I brought -myself downyes, I did it myself. It's right I should sufferperfectly -rightI don't make any moan." -"Brought you down from whar? Whar was you brought down from?" -"Ah, you would not believe me the world never believeslet it pass -'tis no matter. The secret of my birth" -"The secret of your birth Do you mean to say" -"Gentlemen," says the young man, very solemn, "I will reveal it to you, -for I feel I may have confidence in you. By rights I am a duke" -Jim's eyes bugged out when he heard that and I reckon mine did, too. -Then the baldhead says "No you can't mean it?" -"Yes. My greatgrandfather, eldest son of the Duke of Bridgewater, fled -to this country about the end of the last century, to breathe the pure -air of freedom married here, and died, leaving a son, his own father -dying about the same time. The second son of the late duke seized the -titles and estatesthe infant real duke was ignored. I am the lineal -descendant of that infantI am the rightful Duke of Bridgewater and -here am I, forlorn, torn from my high estate, hunted of men, despised by -the cold world, ragged, worn, heartbroken, and degraded to the -companionship of felons on a raft" -Jim pitied him ever so much, and so did I. We tried to comfort him, but -he said it warn't much use, he couldn't be much comforted said if we was -a mind to acknowledge him, that would do him more good than most anything -else so we said we would, if he would tell us how. He said we ought to -bow when we spoke to him, and say "Your Grace," or "My Lord," or "Your -Lordship"and he wouldn't mind it if we called him plain -"Bridgewater," which, he said, was a title anyway, and not a name and -one of us ought to wait on him at dinner, and do any little thing for him -he wanted done. -Well, that was all easy, so we done it. All through dinner Jim stood -around and waited on him, and says, "Will yo' Grace have some o' dis or -some o' dat?" and so on, and a body could see it was mighty pleasing to -him. -But the old man got pretty silent by and bydidn't have much to say, and -didn't look pretty comfortable over all that petting that was going on -around that duke. He seemed to have something on his mind. So, along in -the afternoon, he says -"Looky here, Bilgewater," he says, "I'm nation sorry for you, but you -ain't the only person that's had troubles like that." -"No?" -"No you ain't. You ain't the only person that's ben snaked down -wrongfully out'n a high place." -"Alas" -"No, you ain't the only person that's had a secret of his birth." And, -by jings, HE begins to cry. -"Hold What do you mean?" -"Bilgewater, kin I trust you?" says the old man, still sort of sobbing. -"To the bitter death" He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, -and says, "That secret of your being speak" -"Bilgewater, I am the late Dauphin" -You bet you, Jim and me stared this time. Then the duke says -"You are what?" -"Yes, my friend, it is too trueyour eyes is lookin' at this very moment -on the pore disappeared Dauphin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the -Sixteen and Marry Antonette." -"You At your age No You mean you're the late Charlemagne you must -be six or seven hundred years old, at the very least." -"Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it trouble has brung -these gray hairs and this premature balditude. Yes, gentlemen, you see -before you, in blue jeans and misery, the wanderin', exiled, trampledon, -and sufferin' rightful King of France." -Well, he cried and took on so that me and Jim didn't know hardly what to -do, we was so sorryand so glad and proud we'd got him with us, too. So -we set in, like we done before with the duke, and tried to comfort HIM. -But he said it warn't no use, nothing but to be dead and done with it all -could do him any good though he said it often made him feel easier and -better for a while if people treated him according to his rights, and got -down on one knee to speak to him, and always called him "Your Majesty," -and waited on him first at meals, and didn't set down in his presence -till he asked them. So Jim and me set to majestying him, and doing this -and that and t'other for him, and standing up till he told us we might -set down. This done him heaps of good, and so he got cheerful and -comfortable. But the duke kind of soured on him, and didn't look a bit -satisfied with the way things was going still, the king acted real -friendly towards him, and said the duke's greatgrandfather and all the -other Dukes of Bilgewater was a good deal thought of by HIS father, and -was allowed to come to the palace considerable but the duke stayed huffy -a good while, till by and by the king says -"Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time on this hyer raft, -Bilgewater, and so what's the use o' your bein' sour? It 'll only make -things oncomfortable. It ain't my fault I warn't born a duke, it ain't -your fault you warn't born a kingso what's the use to worry? Make the -best o' things the way you find 'em, says Ithat's my motto. This ain't -no bad thing that we've struck hereplenty grub and an easy lifecome, -give us your hand, duke, and le's all be friends." -The duke done it, and Jim and me was pretty glad to see it. It took away -all the uncomfortableness and we felt mighty good over it, because it -would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the raft -for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody to be -satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others. -It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no -kings nor dukes at all, but just lowdown humbugs and frauds. But I -never said nothing, never let on kept it to myself it's the best way -then you don't have no quarrels, and don't get into no trouble. If they -wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn't no objections, 'long as -it would keep peace in the family and it warn't no use to tell Jim, so I -didn't tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt -that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them -have their own way. -CHAPTER XX. -THEY asked us considerable many questions wanted to know what we covered -up the raft that way for, and laid by in the daytime instead of running -was Jim a runaway nigger? Says I -"Goodness sakes would a runaway nigger run SOUTH?" -No, they allowed he wouldn't. I had to account for things some way, so I -says -"My folks was living in Pike County, in Missouri, where I was born, and -they all died off but me and pa and my brother Ike. Pa, he 'lowed he'd -break up and go down and live with Uncle Ben, who's got a little -onehorse place on the river, fortyfour mile below Orleans. Pa was -pretty poor, and had some debts so when he'd squared up there warn't -nothing left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim. That warn't enough -to take us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other way. Well, -when the river rose pa had a streak of luck one day he ketched this -piece of a raft so we reckoned we'd go down to Orleans on it. Pa's luck -didn't hold out a steamboat run over the forrard corner of the raft one -night, and we all went overboard and dove under the wheel Jim and me -come up all right, but pa was drunk, and Ike was only four years old, so -they never come up no more. Well, for the next day or two we had -considerable trouble, because people was always coming out in skiffs and -trying to take Jim away from me, saying they believed he was a runaway -nigger. We don't run daytimes no more now nights they don't bother us." -The duke says -"Leave me alone to cipher out a way so we can run in the daytime if we -want to. I'll think the thing overI'll invent a plan that'll fix it. -We'll let it alone for today, because of course we don't want to go by -that town yonder in daylightit mightn't be healthy." -Towards night it begun to darken up and look like rain the heat -lightning was squirting around low down in the sky, and the leaves was -beginning to shiverit was going to be pretty ugly, it was easy to see -that. So the duke and the king went to overhauling our wigwam, to see -what the beds was like. My bed was a straw tick better than Jim's, which -was a cornshuck tick there's always cobs around about in a shuck tick, -and they poke into you and hurt and when you roll over the dry shucks -sound like you was rolling over in a pile of dead leaves it makes such a -rustling that you wake up. Well, the duke allowed he would take my bed -but the king allowed he wouldn't. He says -"I should a reckoned the difference in rank would a sejested to you that -a cornshuck bed warn't just fitten for me to sleep on. Your Grace 'll -take the shuck bed yourself." -Jim and me was in a sweat again for a minute, being afraid there was -going to be some more trouble amongst them so we was pretty glad when -the duke says -"'Tis my fate to be always ground into the mire under the iron heel of -oppression. Misfortune has broken my once haughty spirit I yield, I -submit 'tis my fate. I am alone in the worldlet me suffer can bear -it." -We got away as soon as it was good and dark. The king told us to stand -well out towards the middle of the river, and not show a light till we -got a long ways below the town. We come in sight of the little bunch of -lights by and bythat was the town, you knowand slid by, about a half -a mile out, all right. When we was threequarters of a mile below we -hoisted up our signal lantern and about ten o'clock it come on to rain -and blow and thunder and lighten like everything so the king told us to -both stay on watch till the weather got better then him and the duke -crawled into the wigwam and turned in for the night. It was my watch -below till twelve, but I wouldn't a turned in anyway if I'd had a bed, -because a body don't see such a storm as that every day in the week, not -by a long sight. My souls, how the wind did scream along And every -second or two there'd come a glare that lit up the whitecaps for a half -a mile around, and you'd see the islands looking dusty through the rain, -and the trees thrashing around in the wind then comes a HWHACKbum -bum bumbleumbleumbumbumbumbumand the thunder would go rumbling -and grumbling away, and quitand then RIP comes another flash and -another sockdolager. The waves most washed me off the raft sometimes, -but I hadn't any clothes on, and didn't mind. We didn't have no trouble -about snags the lightning was glaring and flittering around so constant -that we could see them plenty soon enough to throw her head this way or -that and miss them. -I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, -so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me he was always -mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king -and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn't no show for -me so I laid outsideI didn't mind the rain, because it was warm, and -the waves warn't running so high now. About two they come up again, -though, and Jim was going to call me but he changed his mind, because he -reckoned they warn't high enough yet to do any harm but he was mistaken -about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a regular ripper -and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim alaughing. He was the -easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway. -I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away and by and by the -storm let up for good and all and the first cabinlight that showed I -rousted him out, and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the day. -The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him and -the duke played sevenup a while, five cents a game. Then they got tired -of it, and allowed they would "lay out a campaign," as they called it. -The duke went down into his carpetbag, and fetched up a lot of little -printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, "The celebrated Dr. -Armand de Montalban, of Paris," would "lecture on the Science of -Phrenology" at such and such a place, on the blank day of blank, at ten -cents admission, and "furnish charts of character at twentyfive cents -apiece." The duke said that was HIM. In another bill he was the -"worldrenowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the Younger, of Drury -Lane, London." In other bills he had a lot of other names and done other -wonderful things, like finding water and gold with a "diviningrod," -"dissipating witch spells," and so on. By and by he says -"But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, -Royalty?" -"No," says the king. -"You shall, then, before you're three days older, Fallen Grandeur," says -the duke. "The first good town we come to we'll hire a hall and do the -sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. -How does that strike you?" -"I'm in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater but, you -see, I don't know nothing about playactin', and hain't ever seen much of -it. I was too small when pap used to have 'em at the palace. Do you -reckon you can learn me?" -"Easy" -"All right. I'm jist afreezn' for something fresh, anyway. Le's -commence right away." -So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and -said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet. -"But if Juliet's such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white -whiskers is goin' to look oncommon odd on her, maybe." -"No, don't you worry these country jakes won't ever think of that. -Besides, you know, you'll be in costume, and that makes all the -difference in the world Juliet's in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight -before she goes to bed, and she's got on her nightgown and her ruffled -nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts." -He got out two or three curtaincalico suits, which he said was meedyevil -armor for Richard III. and t'other chap, and a long white cotton -nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was satisfied so -the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the most splendid -spreadeagle way, prancing around and acting at the same time, to show -how it had got to be done then he give the book to the king and told him -to get his part by heart. -There was a little onehorse town about three mile down the bend, and -after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run -in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim so he allowed he would -go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, -too, and see if he couldn't strike something. We was out of coffee, so -Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some. -When we got there there warn't nobody stirring streets empty, and -perfectly dead and still, like Sunday. We found a sick nigger sunning -himself in a back yard, and he said everybody that warn't too young or -too sick or too old was gone to campmeeting, about two mile back in the -woods. The king got the directions, and allowed he'd go and work that -campmeeting for all it was worth, and I might go, too. -The duke said what he was after was a printingoffice. We found it a -little bit of a concern, up over a carpenter shopcarpenters and -printers all gone to the meeting, and no doors locked. It was a dirty, -litteredup place, and had ink marks, and handbills with pictures of -horses and runaway niggers on them, all over the walls. The duke shed -his coat and said he was all right now. So me and the king lit out for -the campmeeting. -We got there in about a half an hour fairly dripping, for it was a most -awful hot day. There was as much as a thousand people there from twenty -mile around. The woods was full of teams and wagons, hitched -everywheres, feeding out of the wagontroughs and stomping to keep off -the flies. There was sheds made out of poles and roofed over with -branches, where they had lemonade and gingerbread to sell, and piles of -watermelons and green corn and suchlike truck. -The preaching was going on under the same kinds of sheds, only they was -bigger and held crowds of people. The benches was made out of outside -slabs of logs, with holes bored in the round side to drive sticks into -for legs. They didn't have no backs. The preachers had high platforms to -stand on at one end of the sheds. The women had on sunbonnets and some -had linseywoolsey frocks, some gingham ones, and a few of the young ones -had on calico. Some of the young men was barefooted, and some of the -children didn't have on any clothes but just a towlinen shirt. Some of -the old women was knitting, and some of the young folks was courting on -the sly. -The first shed we come to the preacher was lining out a hymn. He lined -out two lines, everybody sung it, and it was kind of grand to hear it, -there was so many of them and they done it in such a rousing way then he -lined out two more for them to singand so on. The people woke up more -and more, and sung louder and louder and towards the end some begun to -groan, and some begun to shout. Then the preacher begun to preach, and -begun in earnest, too and went weaving first to one side of the platform -and then the other, and then aleaning down over the front of it, with -his arms and his body going all the time, and shouting his words out with -all his might and every now and then he would hold up his Bible and -spread it open, and kind of pass it around this way and that, shouting, -"It's the brazen serpent in the wilderness Look upon it and live" And -people would shout out, "GloryAaMEN" And so he went on, and the -people groaning and crying and saying amen -"Oh, come to the mourners' bench come, black with sin AMEN come, -sick and sore AMEN come, lame and halt and blind AMEN come, pore -and needy, sunk in shame AAMEN come, all that's worn and soiled and -sufferingcome with a broken spirit come with a contrite heart come -in your rags and sin and dirt the waters that cleanse is free, the door -of heaven stands openoh, enter in and be at rest" AAMEN GLORY, -GLORY HALLELUJAH -And so on. You couldn't make out what the preacher said any more, on -account of the shouting and crying. Folks got up everywheres in the -crowd, and worked their way just by main strength to the mourners' bench, -with the tears running down their faces and when all the mourners had -got up there to the front benches in a crowd, they sung and shouted and -flung themselves down on the straw, just crazy and wild. -Well, the first I knowed the king got agoing, and you could hear him -over everybody and next he went acharging up on to the platform, and -the preacher he begged him to speak to the people, and he done it. He -told them he was a piratebeen a pirate for thirty years out in the -Indian Oceanand his crew was thinned out considerable last spring in -a fight, and he was home now to take out some fresh men, and thanks to -goodness he'd been robbed last night and put ashore off of a steamboat -without a cent, and he was glad of it it was the blessedest thing that -ever happened to him, because he was a changed man now, and happy for the -first time in his life and, poor as he was, he was going to start right -off and work his way back to the Indian Ocean, and put in the rest of his -life trying to turn the pirates into the true path for he could do it -better than anybody else, being acquainted with all pirate crews in that -ocean and though it would take him a long time to get there without -money, he would get there anyway, and every time he convinced a pirate he -would say to him, "Don't you thank me, don't you give me no credit it -all belongs to them dear people in Pokeville campmeeting, natural -brothers and benefactors of the race, and that dear preacher there, the -truest friend a pirate ever had" -And then he busted into tears, and so did everybody. Then somebody sings -out, "Take up a collection for him, take up a collection" Well, a half -a dozen made a jump to do it, but somebody sings out, "Let HIM pass the -hat around" Then everybody said it, the preacher too. -So the king went all through the crowd with his hat swabbing his eyes, -and blessing the people and praising them and thanking them for being so -good to the poor pirates away off there and every little while the -prettiest kind of girls, with the tears running down their cheeks, would -up and ask him would he let them kiss him for to remember him by and he -always done it and some of them he hugged and kissed as many as five or -six timesand he was invited to stay a week and everybody wanted him to -live in their houses, and said they'd think it was an honor but he said -as this was the last day of the campmeeting he couldn't do no good, and -besides he was in a sweat to get to the Indian Ocean right off and go to -work on the pirates. -When we got back to the raft and he come to count up he found he had -collected eightyseven dollars and seventyfive cents. And then he had -fetched away a threegallon jug of whisky, too, that he found under a -wagon when he was starting home through the woods. The king said, take -it all around, it laid over any day he'd ever put in in the missionarying -line. He said it warn't no use talking, heathens don't amount to shucks -alongside of pirates to work a campmeeting with. -The duke was thinking HE'D been doing pretty well till the king come to -show up, but after that he didn't think so so much. He had set up and -printed off two little jobs for farmers in that printingofficehorse -billsand took the money, four dollars. And he had got in ten -dollars' worth of advertisements for the paper, which he said he would -put in for four dollars if they would pay in advanceso they done it. -The price of the paper was two dollars a year, but he took in three -subscriptions for half a dollar apiece on condition of them paying him in -advance they were going to pay in cordwood and onions as usual, but he -said he had just bought the concern and knocked down the price as low as -he could afford it, and was going to run it for cash. He set up a little -piece of poetry, which he made, himself, out of his own headthree -verseskind of sweet and saddishthe name of it was, "Yes, crush, cold -world, this breaking heart"and he left that all set up and ready to -print in the paper, and didn't charge nothing for it. Well, he took in -nine dollars and a half, and said he'd done a pretty square day's work -for it. -Then he showed us another little job he'd printed and hadn't charged for, -because it was for us. It had a picture of a runaway nigger with a -bundle on a stick over his shoulder, and " reward" under it. The -reading was all about Jim, and just described him to a dot. It said he -run away from St. Jacques' plantation, forty mile below New Orleans, last -winter, and likely went north, and whoever would catch him and send him -back he could have the reward and expenses. -"Now," says the duke, "after tonight we can run in the daytime if we -want to. Whenever we see anybody coming we can tie Jim hand and foot -with a rope, and lay him in the wigwam and show this handbill and say we -captured him up the river, and were too poor to travel on a steamboat, so -we got this little raft on credit from our friends and are going down to -get the reward. Handcuffs and chains would look still better on Jim, but -it wouldn't go well with the story of us being so poor. Too much like -jewelry. Ropes are the correct thingwe must preserve the unities, as -we say on the boards." -We all said the duke was pretty smart, and there couldn't be no trouble -about running daytimes. We judged we could make miles enough that night -to get out of the reach of the powwow we reckoned the duke's work in the -printing office was going to make in that little town then we could boom -right along if we wanted to. -We laid low and kept still, and never shoved out till nearly ten o'clock -then we slid by, pretty wide away from the town, and didn't hoist our -lantern till we was clear out of sight of it. -When Jim called me to take the watch at four in the morning, he says -"Huck, does you reck'n we gwyne to run acrost any mo' kings on dis trip?" -"No," I says, "I reckon not." -"Well," says he, "dat's all right, den. I doan' mine one er two kings, -but dat's enough. Dis one's powerful drunk, en de duke ain' much -better." -I found Jim had been trying to get him to talk French, so he could hear -what it was like but he said he had been in this country so long, and -had so much trouble, he'd forgot it. -CHAPTER XXI. -IT was after sunup now, but we went right on and didn't tie up. The -king and the duke turned out by and by looking pretty rusty but after -they'd jumped overboard and took a swim it chippered them up a good deal. -After breakfast the king he took a seat on the corner of the raft, and -pulled off his boots and rolled up his britches, and let his legs dangle -in the water, so as to be comfortable, and lit his pipe, and went to -getting his Romeo and Juliet by heart. When he had got it pretty good -him and the duke begun to practice it together. The duke had to learn -him over and over again how to say every speech and he made him sigh, -and put his hand on his heart, and after a while he said he done it -pretty well "only," he says, "you mustn't bellow out ROMEO that way, -like a bullyou must say it soft and sick and languishy, soRoomeo -that is the idea for Juliet's a dear sweet mere child of a girl, you -know, and she doesn't bray like a jackass." -Well, next they got out a couple of long swords that the duke made out of -oak laths, and begun to practice the sword fightthe duke called himself -Richard III. and the way they laid on and pranced around the raft was -grand to see. But by and by the king tripped and fell overboard, and -after that they took a rest, and had a talk about all kinds of adventures -they'd had in other times along the river. -After dinner the duke says -"Well, Capet, we'll want to make this a firstclass show, you know, so I -guess we'll add a little more to it. We want a little something to -answer encores with, anyway." -"What's onkores, Bilgewater?" -The duke told him, and then says -"I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor's hornpipe and -youwell, let me seeoh, I've got ityou can do Hamlet's soliloquy." -"Hamlet's which?" -"Hamlet's soliloquy, you know the most celebrated thing in Shakespeare. -Ah, it's sublime, sublime Always fetches the house. I haven't got it -in the bookI've only got one volumebut I reckon I can piece it out -from memory. I'll just walk up and down a minute, and see if I can call -it back from recollection's vaults." -So he went to marching up and down, thinking, and frowning horrible every -now and then then he would hoist up his eyebrows next he would squeeze -his hand on his forehead and stagger back and kind of moan next he would -sigh, and next he'd let on to drop a tear. It was beautiful to see him. -By and by he got it. He told us to give attention. Then he strikes a -most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his arms stretched -away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky and then he -begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth and after that, all through -his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his chest, and -just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before. This is the -speechI learned it, easy enough, while he was learning it to the king -To be, or not to be that is the bare bodkin That makes calamity of so -long life For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come to -Dunsinane, But that the fear of something after death Murders the -innocent sleep, Great nature's second course, And makes us rather sling -the arrows of outrageous fortune Than fly to others that we know not of. -There's the respect must give us pause Wake Duncan with thy knocking I -would thou couldst For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The -oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The law's delay, and the -quietus which his pangs might take, In the dead waste and middle of the -night, when churchyards yawn In customary suits of solemn black, But that -the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns, Breathes -forth contagion on the world, And thus the native hue of resolution, like -the poor cat i' the adage, Is sicklied o'er with care, And all the clouds -that lowered o'er our housetops, With this regard their currents turn -awry, And lose the name of action. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be -wished. But soft you, the fair Ophelia Ope not thy ponderous and marble -jaws, But get thee to a nunnerygo -Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he -could do it firstrate. It seemed like he was just born for it and when -he had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way he -would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off. -The first chance we got the duke he had some showbills printed and after -that, for two or three days as we floated along, the raft was a most -uncommon lively place, for there warn't nothing but sword fighting and -rehearsingas the duke called itgoing on all the time. One morning, -when we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight of a -little onehorse town in a big bend so we tied up about threequarters -of a mile above it, in the mouth of a crick which was shut in like a -tunnel by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took the canoe and -went down there to see if there was any chance in that place for our -show. -We struck it mighty lucky there was going to be a circus there that -afternoon, and the country people was already beginning to come in, in -all kinds of old shackly wagons, and on horses. The circus would leave -before night, so our show would have a pretty good chance. The duke he -hired the courthouse, and we went around and stuck up our bills. They -read like this -Shaksperean Revival -Wonderful Attraction -For One Night Only -The world renowned tragedians, David Garrick the Younger, of Drury Lane -Theatre London, and Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket -Theatre, Whitechapel, Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London, and the Royal -Continental Theatres, in their sublime Shaksperean Spectacle entitled -The Balcony Scene in Romeo and Juliet -Romeo...................Mr. Garrick -Juliet..................Mr. Kean -Assisted by the whole strength of the company -New costumes, new scenes, new appointments -Also The thrilling, masterly, and bloodcurdling -Broadsword conflict In Richard III. -Richard III.............Mr. Garrick -Richmond................Mr. Kean -Also by special request Hamlet's Immortal Soliloquy -By The Illustrious Kean Done by him consecutive nights in Paris -For One Night Only, On account of imperative European engagements -Admission cents children and servants, cents. -Then we went loafing around town. The stores and houses was most all -old, shackly, dried up frame concerns that hadn't ever been painted they -was set up three or four foot above ground on stilts, so as to be out of -reach of the water when the river was overflowed. The houses had little -gardens around them, but they didn't seem to raise hardly anything in -them but jimpsonweeds, and sunflowers, and ash piles, and old curledup -boots and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and playedout tinware. -The fences was made of different kinds of boards, nailed on at different -times and they leaned every which way, and had gates that didn't generly -have but one hingea leather one. Some of the fences had been -whitewashed some time or another, but the duke said it was in Clumbus' -time, like enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and people -driving them out. -All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in -front, and the country people hitched their horses to the awningposts. -There was empty drygoods boxes under the awnings, and loafers roosting on -them all day long, whittling them with their Barlow knives and chawing -tobacco, and gaping and yawning and stretchinga mighty ornery lot. -They generly had on yellow straw hats most as wide as an umbrella, but -didn't wear no coats nor waistcoats, they called one another Bill, and -Buck, and Hank, and Joe, and Andy, and talked lazy and drawly, and used -considerable many cuss words. There was as many as one loafer leaning up -against every awningpost, and he most always had his hands in his -britchespockets, except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw of -tobacco or scratch. What a body was hearing amongst them all the time -was -"Gimme a chaw 'v tobacker, Hank." -"Cain't I hain't got but one chaw left. Ask Bill." -Maybe Bill he gives him a chaw maybe he lies and says he ain't got none. -Some of them kinds of loafers never has a cent in the world, nor a chaw -of tobacco of their own. They get all their chawing by borrowing they -say to a fellow, "I wisht you'd len' me a chaw, Jack, I jist this minute -give Ben Thompson the last chaw I had"which is a lie pretty much -everytime it don't fool nobody but a stranger but Jack ain't no -stranger, so he says -"YOU give him a chaw, did you? So did your sister's cat's grandmother. -You pay me back the chaws you've awready borry'd off'n me, Lafe Buckner, -then I'll loan you one or two ton of it, and won't charge you no back -intrust, nuther." -"Well, I DID pay you back some of it wunst." -"Yes, you did'bout six chaws. You borry'd store tobacker and paid back -niggerhead." -Store tobacco is flat black plug, but these fellows mostly chaws the -natural leaf twisted. When they borrow a chaw they don't generly cut it -off with a knife, but set the plug in between their teeth, and gnaw with -their teeth and tug at the plug with their hands till they get it in two -then sometimes the one that owns the tobacco looks mournful at it when -it's handed back, and says, sarcastic -"Here, gimme the CHAW, and you take the PLUG." -All the streets and lanes was just mud they warn't nothing else BUT mud -mud as black as tar and nigh about a foot deep in some places, and two -or three inches deep in ALL the places. The hogs loafed and grunted -around everywheres. You'd see a muddy sow and a litter of pigs come -lazying along the street and whollop herself right down in the way, where -folks had to walk around her, and she'd stretch out and shut her eyes and -wave her ears whilst the pigs was milking her, and look as happy as if -she was on salary. And pretty soon you'd hear a loafer sing out, "Hi SO -boy sick him, Tige" and away the sow would go, squealing most horrible, -with a dog or two swinging to each ear, and three or four dozen more -acoming and then you would see all the loafers get up and watch the thing -out of sight, and laugh at the fun and look grateful for the noise. Then -they'd settle back again till there was a dog fight. There couldn't -anything wake them up all over, and make them happy all over, like a dog -fightunless it might be putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting -fire to him, or tying a tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to -death. -On the river front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank, and -they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in, The people had -moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of some -others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them yet, but -it was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide as a house -caves in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a mile deep -will start in and cave along and cave along till it all caves into the -river in one summer. Such a town as that has to be always moving back, -and back, and back, because the river's always gnawing at it. -The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the wagons -and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time. Families -fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat them in the -wagons. There was considerable whisky drinking going on, and I seen -three fights. By and by somebody sings out -"Here comes old Boggsin from the country for his little old monthly -drunk here he comes, boys" -All the loafers looked glad I reckoned they was used to having fun out -of Boggs. One of them says -"Wonder who he's agwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd achawed up all -the men he's ben agwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he'd have -considerable ruputation now." -Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd know I -warn't gwyne to die for a thousan' year." -Boggs comes atearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an -Injun, and singing out -"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the wawpath, and the price uv coffins is -agwyne to raise." -He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle he was over fifty year -old, and had a very red face. Everybody yelled at him and laughed at him -and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he'd attend to them and lay -them out in their regular turns, but he couldn't wait now because he'd -come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, "Meat -first, and spoon vittles to top off on." -He see me, and rode up and says -"Whar'd you come f'm, boy? You prepared to die?" -Then he rode on. I was scared, but a man says -"He don't mean nothing he's always acarryin' on like that when he's -drunk. He's the best naturedest old fool in Arkansawnever hurt nobody, -drunk nor sober." -Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down so -he could see under the curtain of the awning and yells -"Come out here, Sherburn Come out and meet the man you've swindled. -You're the houn' I'm after, and I'm agwyne to have you, too" -And so he went on, calling Sherburn everything he could lay his tongue -to, and the whole street packed with people listening and laughing and -going on. By and by a proudlooking man about fiftyfiveand he was a -heap the best dressed man in that town, toosteps out of the store, and -the crowd drops back on each side to let him come. He says to Boggs, -mighty ca'm and slowhe says -"I'm tired of this, but I'll endure it till one o'clock. Till one -o'clock, mindno longer. If you open your mouth against me only once -after that time you can't travel so far but I will find you." -Then he turns and goes in. The crowd looked mighty sober nobody -stirred, and there warn't no more laughing. Boggs rode off blackguarding -Sherburn as loud as he could yell, all down the street and pretty soon -back he comes and stops before the store, still keeping it up. Some men -crowded around him and tried to get him to shut up, but he wouldn't they -told him it would be one o'clock in about fifteen minutes, and so he MUST -go homehe must go right away. But it didn't do no good. He cussed -away with all his might, and throwed his hat down in the mud and rode -over it, and pretty soon away he went araging down the street again, -with his gray hair aflying. Everybody that could get a chance at him -tried their best to coax him off of his horse so they could lock him up -and get him sober but it warn't no useup the street he would tear -again, and give Sherburn another cussing. By and by somebody says -"Go for his daughterquick, go for his daughter sometimes he'll listen -to her. If anybody can persuade him, she can." -So somebody started on a run. I walked down street a ways and stopped. -In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, but not on his -horse. He was areeling across the street towards me, bareheaded, with -a friend on both sides of him aholt of his arms and hurrying him along. -He was quiet, and looked uneasy and he warn't hanging back any, but was -doing some of the hurrying himself. Somebody sings out -"Boggs" -I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel Sherburn. -He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had a pistol raised in -his right handnot aiming it, but holding it out with the barrel tilted -up towards the sky. The same second I see a young girl coming on the -run, and two men with her. Boggs and the men turned round to see who -called him, and when they see the pistol the men jumped to one side, and -the pistolbarrel come down slow and steady to a levelboth barrels -cocked. Boggs throws up both of his hands and says, "O Lord, don't -shoot" Bang goes the first shot, and he staggers back, clawing at the -airbang goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards on to the -ground, heavy and solid, with his arms spread out. That young girl -screamed out and comes rushing, and down she throws herself on her -father, crying, and saying, "Oh, he's killed him, he's killed him" The -crowd closed up around them, and shouldered and jammed one another, with -their necks stretched, trying to see, and people on the inside trying to -shove them back and shouting, "Back, back give him air, give him air" -Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol on to the ground, and turned around -on his heels and walked off. -They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing around just -the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got a good place -at the window, where I was close to him and could see in. They laid him -on the floor and put one large Bible under his head, and opened another -one and spread it on his breast but they tore open his shirt first, and -I seen where one of the bullets went in. He made about a dozen long -gasps, his breast lifting the Bible up when he drawed in his breath, and -letting it down again when he breathed it outand after that he laid -still he was dead. Then they pulled his daughter away from him, -screaming and crying, and took her off. She was about sixteen, and very -sweet and gentle looking, but awful pale and scared. -Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scrouging and -pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look, but people that -had the places wouldn't give them up, and folks behind them was saying -all the time, "Say, now, you've looked enough, you fellows 'tain't right -and 'tain't fair for you to stay thar all the time, and never give nobody -a chance other folks has their rights as well as you." -There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybe there -was going to be trouble. The streets was full, and everybody was -excited. Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it happened, -and there was a big crowd packed around each one of these fellows, -stretching their necks and listening. One long, lanky man, with long -hair and a big white fur stovepipe hat on the back of his head, and a -crookedhandled cane, marked out the places on the ground where Boggs -stood and where Sherburn stood, and the people following him around from -one place to t'other and watching everything he done, and bobbing their -heads to show they understood, and stooping a little and resting their -hands on their thighs to watch him mark the places on the ground with his -cane and then he stood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had stood, -frowning and having his hatbrim down over his eyes, and sung out, -"Boggs" and then fetched his cane down slow to a level, and says "Bang" -staggered backwards, says "Bang" again, and fell down flat on his back. -The people that had seen the thing said he done it perfect said it was -just exactly the way it all happened. Then as much as a dozen people got -out their bottles and treated him. -Well, by and by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched. In about a -minute everybody was saying it so away they went, mad and yelling, and -snatching down every clothesline they come to to do the hanging with. -CHAPTER XXII. -THEY swarmed up towards Sherburn's house, awhooping and raging like -Injuns, and everything had to clear the way or get run over and tromped -to mush, and it was awful to see. Children was heeling it ahead of the -mob, screaming and trying to get out of the way and every window along -the road was full of women's heads, and there was nigger boys in every -tree, and bucks and wenches looking over every fence and as soon as the -mob would get nearly to them they would break and skaddle back out of -reach. Lots of the women and girls was crying and taking on, scared most -to death. -They swarmed up in front of Sherburn's palings as thick as they could jam -together, and you couldn't hear yourself think for the noise. It was a -little twentyfoot yard. Some sung out "Tear down the fence tear down -the fence" Then there was a racket of ripping and tearing and smashing, -and down she goes, and the front wall of the crowd begins to roll in like -a wave. -Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch, -with a doublebarrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectly ca'm -and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and the wave -sucked back. -Sherburn never said a wordjust stood there, looking down. The -stillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable. Sherburn run his eye slow -along the crowd and wherever it struck the people tried a little to -outgaze him, but they couldn't they dropped their eyes and looked sneaky. -Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed not the pleasant kind, but the -kind that makes you feel like when you are eating bread that's got sand -in it. -Then he says, slow and scornful -"The idea of YOU lynching anybody It's amusing. The idea of you -thinking you had pluck enough to lynch a MAN Because you're brave -enough to tar and feather poor friendless castout women that come along -here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay your hands on a -MAN? Why, a MAN'S safe in the hands of ten thousand of your kindas -long as it's daytime and you're not behind him. -"Do I know you? I know you clear through was born and raised in the -South, and I've lived in the North so I know the average all around. -The average man's a coward. In the North he lets anybody walk over him -that wants to, and goes home and prays for a humble spirit to bear it. -In the South one man all by himself, has stopped a stage full of men in -the daytime, and robbed the lot. Your newspapers call you a brave people -so much that you think you are braver than any other peoplewhereas -you're just AS brave, and no braver. Why don't your juries hang -murderers? Because they're afraid the man's friends will shoot them in -the back, in the darkand it's just what they WOULD do. -"So they always acquit and then a MAN goes in the night, with a hundred -masked cowards at his back and lynches the rascal. Your mistake is, that -you didn't bring a man with you that's one mistake, and the other is -that you didn't come in the dark and fetch your masks. You brought PART -of a manBuck Harkness, thereand if you hadn't had him to start you, -you'd a taken it out in blowing. -"You didn't want to come. The average man don't like trouble and danger. -YOU don't like trouble and danger. But if only HALF a manlike Buck -Harkness, thereshouts 'Lynch him lynch him' you're afraid to back -downafraid you'll be found out to be what you areCOWARDSand so -you raise a yell, and hang yourselves on to that halfaman's coattail, -and come raging up here, swearing what big things you're going to do. -The pitifulest thing out is a mob that's what an army isa mob they -don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's -borrowed from their mass, and from their officers. But a mob without any -MAN at the head of it is BENEATH pitifulness. Now the thing for YOU to -do is to droop your tails and go home and crawl in a hole. If any real -lynching's going to be done it will be done in the dark, Southern -fashion and when they come they'll bring their masks, and fetch a MAN -along. Now LEAVEand take your halfaman with you"tossing his gun up -across his left arm and cocking it when he says this. -The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and went tearing -off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it after them, looking -tolerable cheap. I could a stayed if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. -I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchman -went by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twentydollar gold -piece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, because -there ain't no telling how soon you are going to need it, away from home -and amongst strangers that way. You can't be too careful. I ain't -opposed to spending money on circuses when there ain't no other way, but -there ain't no use in WASTING it on them. -It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was -when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side by -side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes nor -stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and comfortable -there must a been twenty of themand every lady with a lovely -complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like a gang of real -sureenough queens, and dressed in clothes that cost millions of dollars, -and just littered with diamonds. It was a powerful fine sight I never -see anything so lovely. And then one by one they got up and stood, and -went aweaving around the ring so gentle and wavy and graceful, the men -looking ever so tall and airy and straight, with their heads bobbing and -skimming along, away up there under the tentroof, and every lady's -roseleafy dress flapping soft and silky around her hips, and she looking -like the most loveliest parasol. -And then faster and faster they went, all of them dancing, first one foot -out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more and more, and -the ringmaster going round and round the centerpole, cracking his whip -and shouting "Hihi" and the clown cracking jokes behind him and by -and by all hands dropped the reins, and every lady put her knuckles on -her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, and then how the horses did -lean over and hump themselves And so one after the other they all -skipped off into the ring, and made the sweetest bow I ever see, and then -scampered out, and everybody clapped their hands and went just about -wild. -Well, all through the circus they done the most astonishing things and -all the time that clown carried on so it most killed the people. The -ringmaster couldn't ever say a word to him but he was back at him quick -as a wink with the funniest things a body ever said and how he ever -COULD think of so many of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I -couldn't noway understand. Why, I couldn't a thought of them in a year. -And by and by a drunk man tried to get into the ringsaid he wanted to -ride said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued -and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show -come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make -fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear so that -stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the -benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, "Knock him down throw him -out" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmaster he -made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be no disturbance, -and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no more trouble he would -let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. So everybody -laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute he was on, the -horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, with two circus -men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the drunk man -hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every jump, and -the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing till tears -rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men could do, the -horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, round and round -the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging to his neck, with -first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, and then t'other -one on t'other side, and the people just crazy. It warn't funny to me, -though I was all of a tremble to see his danger. But pretty soon he -struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, areeling this way and -that and the next minute he sprung up and dropped the bridle and stood -and the horse agoing like a house afire too. He just stood up there, -asailing around as easy and comfortable as if he warn't ever drunk in his -lifeand then he begun to pull off his clothes and sling them. He shed -them so thick they kind of clogged up the air, and altogether he shed -seventeen suits. And, then, there he was, slim and handsome, and dressed -the gaudiest and prettiest you ever saw, and he lit into that horse with -his whip and made him fairly humand finally skipped off, and made his -bow and danced off to the dressingroom, and everybody just ahowling -with pleasure and astonishment. -Then the ringmaster he see how he had been fooled, and he WAS the sickest -ringmaster you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his own men He -had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let on to nobody. -Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but I wouldn't a been in -that ringmaster's place, not for a thousand dollars. I don't know there -may be bullier circuses than what that one was, but I never struck them -yet. Anyways, it was plenty good enough for ME and wherever I run across -it, it can have all of MY custom every time. -Well, that night we had OUR show but there warn't only about twelve -people therejust enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the -time, and that made the duke mad and everybody left, anyway, before the -show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said these -Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakespeare what they wanted was -low comedyand maybe something ruther worse than low comedy, he -reckoned. He said he could size their style. So next morning he got -some big sheets of wrapping paper and some black paint, and drawed off -some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village. The bills said -AT THE COURT HOUSE FOR NIGHTS ONLY -The WorldRenowned Tragedians -DAVID GARRICK THE YOUNGER -AND EDMUND KEAN THE ELDER -Of the London and -Continental Theatres, -In their Thrilling Tragedy of -THE KING'S CAMELEOPARD, -OR THE ROYAL NONESUCH -Admission cents. -Then at the bottom was the biggest line of all, which said -LADIES AND CHILDREN NOT ADMITTED. -"There," says he, "if that line don't fetch them, I don't know Arkansaw" -CHAPTER XXIII. -WELL, all day him and the king was hard at it, rigging up a stage and a -curtain and a row of candles for footlights and that night the house was -jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn't hold no more, the -duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on to the -stage and stood up before the curtain and made a little speech, and -praised up this tragedy, and said it was the most thrillingest one that -ever was and so he went on abragging about the tragedy, and about -Edmund Kean the Elder, which was to play the main principal part in it -and at last when he'd got everybody's expectations up high enough, he -rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come aprancing out -on all fours, naked and he was painted all over, ringstreakedand -striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a rainbow. Andbut never -mind the rest of his outfit it was just wild, but it was awful funny. -The people most killed themselves laughing and when the king got done -capering and capered off behind the scenes, they roared and clapped and -stormed and hawhawed till he come back and done it over again, and after -that they made him do it another time. Well, it would make a cow laugh to -see the shines that old idiot cut. -Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says -the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of -pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it -in Drury Lane and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has -succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply -obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come -and see it. -Twenty people sings out -"What, is it over? Is that ALL?" -The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings out, -"Sold" and rose up mad, and was agoing for that stage and them -tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts -"Hold on Just a word, gentlemen." They stopped to listen. "We are -soldmighty badly sold. But we don't want to be the laughing stock of -this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long -as we live. NO. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk this -show up, and sell the REST of the town Then we'll all be in the same -boat. Ain't that sensible?" "You bet it isthe jedge is right" -everybody sings out. "All right, thennot a word about any sell. Go -along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy." -Next day you couldn't hear nothing around that town but how splendid that -show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this crowd the -same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the raft we all -had a supper and by and by, about midnight, they made Jim and me back -her out and float her down the middle of the river, and fetch her in and -hide her about two mile below town. -The third night the house was crammed againand they warn't newcomers -this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I stood -by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had his -pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coatand I see it -warn't no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs -by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things and if I know the -signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixtyfour of -them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for -me I couldn't stand it. Well, when the place couldn't hold no more -people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door for -him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after him -but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says -"Walk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the -raft like the dickens was after you" -I done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, -and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and -still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a word. -I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience, -but nothing of the sort pretty soon he crawls out from under the wigwam, -and says -"Well, how'd the old thing pan out this time, duke?" He hadn't been -uptown at all. -We never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. -Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly laughed -their bones loose over the way they'd served them people. The duke says -"Greenhorns, flatheads I knew the first house would keep mum and let -the rest of the town get roped in and I knew they'd lay for us the third -night, and consider it was THEIR turn now. Well, it IS their turn, and -I'd give something to know how much they'd take for it. I WOULD just -like to know how they're putting in their opportunity. They can turn it -into a picnic if they want tothey brought plenty provisions." -Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixtyfive dollars in that -three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagonload like that -before. By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says -"Don't it s'prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?" -"No," I says, "it don't." -"Why don't it, Huck?" -"Well, it don't, because it's in the breed. I reckon they're all alike," -"But, Huck, dese kings o' ourn is reglar rapscallions dat's jist what -dey is dey's reglar rapscallions." -"Well, that's what I'm asaying all kings is mostly rapscallions, as fur -as I can make out." -"Is dat so?" -"You read about them onceyou'll see. Look at Henry the Eight this 'n -'s a Sundayschool Superintendent to HIM. And look at Charles Second, -and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward -Second, and Richard Third, and forty more besides all them Saxon -heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, -you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He WAS a -blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head -next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was -ordering up eggs. 'Fetch up Nell Gwynn,' he says. They fetch her up. -Next morning, 'Chop off her head' And they chop it off. 'Fetch up Jane -Shore,' he says and up she comes, Next morning, 'Chop off her head'and -they chop it off. 'Ring up Fair Rosamun.' Fair Rosamun answers the -bell. Next morning, 'Chop off her head.' And he made every one of them -tell him a tale every night and he kept that up till he had hogged a -thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and -called it Domesday Bookwhich was a good name and stated the case. You -don't know kings, Jim, but I know them and this old rip of ourn is one -of the cleanest I've struck in history. Well, Henry he takes a notion he -wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it -give notice?give the country a show? No. All of a sudden he heaves -all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of -independence, and dares them to come on. That was HIS stylehe never -give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of -Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show up? Nodrownded -him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S'pose people left money laying -around where he waswhat did he do? He collared it. S'pose he -contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set down there and -see that he done itwhat did he do? He always done the other thing. -S'pose he opened his mouthwhat then? If he didn't shut it up powerful -quick he'd lose a lie every time. That's the kind of a bug Henry was -and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled that town a -heap worse than ourn done. I don't say that ourn is lambs, because they -ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts but they ain't nothing -to THAT old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to -make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. -It's the way they're raised." -"But dis one do SMELL so like de nation, Huck." -"Well, they all do, Jim. We can't help the way a king smells history -don't tell no way." -"Now de duke, he's a tolerble likely man in some ways." -"Yes, a duke's different. But not very different. This one's a middling -hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk there ain't no nearsighted man -could tell him from a king." -"Well, anyways, I doan' hanker for no mo' un um, Huck. Dese is all I kin -stan'." -"It's the way I feel, too, Jim. But we've got them on our hands, and we -got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we -could hear of a country that's out of kings." -What was the use to tell Jim these warn't real kings and dukes? It -wouldn't a done no good and, besides, it was just as I said you -couldn't tell them from the real kind. -I went to sleep, and Jim didn't call me when it was my turn. He often -done that. When I waked up just at daybreak he was sitting there with -his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I -didn't take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was -thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low -and homesick because he hadn't ever been away from home before in his -life and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white -folks does for their'n. It don't seem natural, but I reckon it's so. He -was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I was -asleep, and saying, "Po' little 'Lizabeth po' little Johnny it's mighty -hard I spec' I ain't ever gwyne to see you no mo', no mo'" He was a -mighty good nigger, Jim was. -But this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young -ones and by and by he says -"What makes me feel so bad dis time 'uz bekase I hear sumpn over yonder -on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time I -treat my little 'Lizabeth so ornery. She warn't on'y 'bout fo' year ole, -en she tuck de sk'yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell but she got -well, en one day she was astannin' aroun', en I says to her, I says -"'Shet de do'.' -"She never done it jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me -mad en I says agin, mighty loud, I says -"'Doan' you hear me? Shet de do'' -"She jis stood de same way, kiner smilin' up. I was abilin' I says -"'I lay I MAKE you mine' -"En wid dat I fetch' her a slap side de head dat sont her asprawlin'. -Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz gone 'bout ten minutes en when I -come back dah was dat do' astannin' open YIT, en dat chile stannin' mos' -right in it, alookin' down and mournin', en de tears runnin' down. My, -but I WUZ mad I was agwyne for de chile, but jis' denit was a do' -dat open innerdsjis' den, 'long come de wind en slam it to, behine de -chile, kerBLAMen my lan', de chile never move' My breff mos' hop -outer me en I feel sosoI doan' know HOW I feel. I crope out, all -atremblin', en crope aroun' en open de do' easy en slow, en poke my head -in behine de chile, sof' en still, en all uv a sudden I says POW jis' as -loud as I could yell. SHE NEVER BUDGE Oh, Huck, I bust out acryin' en -grab her up in my arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing De Lord God -Amighty fogive po' ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive hisself as -long's he live' Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en -dumben I'd ben atreat'n her so" -CHAPTER XXIV. -NEXT day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead out in -the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river, and the -duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working them towns. Jim he -spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn't take but a few hours, -because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him when he had to lay all -day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, when we left him all -alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happened on to him all by -himself and not tied it wouldn't look much like he was a runaway nigger, -you know. So the duke said it WAS kind of hard to have to lay roped all -day, and he'd cipher out some way to get around it. -He was uncommon bright, the duke was, and he soon struck it. He dressed -Jim up in King Lear's outfitit was a long curtaincalico gown, and a -white horsehair wig and whiskers and then he took his theater paint and -painted Jim's face and hands and ears and neck all over a dead, dull, -solid blue, like a man that's been drownded nine days. Blamed if he -warn't the horriblest looking outrage I ever see. Then the duke took and -wrote out a sign on a shingle so -Sick Arabbut harmless when not out of his head. -And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four or five -foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was a sight -better than lying tied a couple of years every day, and trembling all -over every time there was a sound. The duke told him to make himself -free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around, he must hop out -of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howl or two like a wild -beast, and he reckoned they would light out and leave him alone. Which -was sound enough judgment but you take the average man, and he wouldn't -wait for him to howl. Why, he didn't only look like he was dead, he -looked considerable more than that. -These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there was so -much money in it, but they judged it wouldn't be safe, because maybe the -news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn't hit no -project that suited exactly so at last the duke said he reckoned he'd -lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn't put up -something on the Arkansaw village and the king he allowed he would drop -over to t'other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence to -lead him the profitable waymeaning the devil, I reckon. We had all -bought store clothes where we stopped last and now the king put his'n -on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king's -duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never -knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked -like the orneriest old rip that ever was but now, when he'd take off his -new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand and -good and pious that you'd say he had walked right out of the ark, and -maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I got my -paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away up -under the point, about three mile above the townbeen there a couple -of hours, taking on freight. Says the king -"Seein' how I'm dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. -Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, -Huckleberry we'll come down to the village on her." -I didn't have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. I -fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went scooting -along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to a nice -innocentlooking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the sweat -off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather and he had a couple of -big carpetbags by him. -"Run her nose in shore," says the king. I done it. "Wher' you bound -for, young man?" -"For the steamboat going to Orleans." -"Git aboard," says the king. "Hold on a minute, my servant 'll he'p you -with them bags. Jump out and he'p the gentleman, Adolphus"meaning me, -I see. -I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was -mighty thankful said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. -He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he'd come -down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he -was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The -young fellow says -"When I first see you I says to myself, 'It's Mr. Wilks, sure, and he -come mighty near getting here in time.' But then I says again, 'No, I -reckon it ain't him, or else he wouldn't be paddling up the river.' You -AIN'T him, are you?" -"No, my name's BlodgettElexander BlodgettREVEREND Elexander Blodgett, -I s'pose I must say, as I'm one o' the Lord's poor servants. But still -I'm jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving in time, all -the same, if he's missed anything by itwhich I hope he hasn't." -"Well, he don't miss any property by it, because he'll get that all -right but he's missed seeing his brother Peter diewhich he mayn't -mind, nobody can tell as to thatbut his brother would a give anything -in this world to see HIM before he died never talked about nothing else -all these three weeks hadn't seen him since they was boys togetherand -hadn't ever seen his brother William at allthat's the deef and dumb -oneWilliam ain't more than thirty or thirtyfive. Peter and George -were the only ones that come out here George was the married brother -him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William's the only ones -that's left now and, as I was saying, they haven't got here in time." -"Did anybody send 'em word?" -"Oh, yes a month or two ago, when Peter was first took because Peter -said then that he sorter felt like he warn't going to get well this time. -You see, he was pretty old, and George's g'yirls was too young to be much -company for him, except Mary Jane, the redheaded one and so he was -kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn't seem to care -much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harveyand William, -too, for that matterbecause he was one of them kind that can't bear to -make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he'd told in -it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the property -divided up so George's g'yirls would be all rightfor George didn't -leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put a pen -to." -"Why do you reckon Harvey don't come? Wher' does he live?" -"Oh, he lives in EnglandSheffieldpreaches therehasn't ever been in -this country. He hasn't had any too much timeand besides he mightn't a -got the letter at all, you know." -"Too bad, too bad he couldn't a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. -You going to Orleans, you say?" -"Yes, but that ain't only a part of it. I'm going in a ship, next -Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives." -"It's a pretty long journey. But it'll be lovely wisht I was agoing. -Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?" -"Mary Jane's nineteen, Susan's fifteen, and Joanna's about fourteen -that's the one that gives herself to good works and has a harelip." -"Poor things to be left alone in the cold world so." -"Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they ain't -going to let them come to no harm. There's Hobson, the Babtis' preacher -and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi -Bell, the lawyer and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow -Bartley, andwell, there's a lot of them but these are the ones that -Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when he wrote -home so Harvey 'll know where to look for friends when he gets here." -Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied -that young fellow. Blamed if he didn't inquire about everybody and -everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses and about -Peter's businesswhich was a tanner and about George'swhich was a -carpenter and about Harvey'swhich was a dissentering minister and so -on, and so on. Then he says -"What did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?" -"Because she's a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stop -there. When they're deep they won't stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat -will, but this is a St. Louis one." -"Was Peter Wilks well off?" -"Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it's reckoned he -left three or four thousand in cash hid up som'ers." -"When did you say he died?" -"I didn't say, but it was last night." -"Funeral tomorrow, likely?" -"Yes, 'bout the middle of the day." -"Well, it's all terrible sad but we've all got to go, one time or -another. So what we want to do is to be prepared then we're all right." -"Yes, sir, it's the best way. Ma used to always say that." -When we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she -got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost my -ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up -another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says -"Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new -carpetbags. And if he's gone over to t'other side, go over there and -git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now." -I see what HE was up to but I never said nothing, of course. When I got -back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a log, and -the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had said it -every last word of it. And all the time he was adoing it he tried to -talk like an Englishman and he done it pretty well, too, for a slouch. -I can't imitate him, and so I ain't agoing to try to but he really done -it pretty good. Then he says -"How are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?" -The duke said, leave him alone for that said he had played a deef and -dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a -steamboat. -About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, -but they didn't come from high enough up the river but at last there was -a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went -aboard, and she was from Cincinnati and when they found we only wanted -to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and -said they wouldn't land us. But the king was ca'm. He says -"If gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and -put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry 'em, can't it?" -So they softened down and said it was all right and when we got to the -village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when -they see the yawl acoming, and when the king says -"Kin any of you gentlemen tell me wher' Mr. Peter Wilks lives?" they give -a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, "What -d' I tell you?" Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle -"I'm sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he DID live -yesterday evening." -Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up -against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his -back, and says -"Alas, alas, our poor brothergone, and we never got to see him oh, -it's too, too hard" -Then he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to the -duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn't drop a carpetbag and bust out -acrying. If they warn't the beatenest lot, them two frauds, that ever I -struck. -Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all -sorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpetbags up the hill -for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about -his brother's last moments, and the king he told it all over again on his -hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead tanner like -they'd lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I struck anything like -it, I'm a nigger. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race. -CHAPTER XXV. -THE news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see the people -tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on -their coats as they come. Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, -and the noise of the tramping was like a soldier march. The windows and -dooryards was full and every minute somebody would say, over a fence -"Is it THEM?" -And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say -"You bet it is." -When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the -three girls was standing in the door. Mary Jane WAS redheaded, but that -don't make no difference, she was most awful beautiful, and her face and -her eyes was all lit up like glory, she was so glad her uncles was come. -The king he spread his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for them, and the -harelip jumped for the duke, and there they HAD it Everybody most, -leastways women, cried for joy to see them meet again at last and have -such good times. -Then the king he hunched the duke privateI see him do itand then he -looked around and see the coffin, over in the corner on two chairs so -then him and the duke, with a hand across each other's shoulder, and -t'other hand to their eyes, walked slow and solemn over there, everybody -dropping back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, -people saying "Sh" and all the men taking their hats off and drooping -their heads, so you could a heard a pin fall. And when they got there -they bent over and looked in the coffin, and took one sight, and then -they bust out acrying so you could a heard them to Orleans, most and -then they put their arms around each other's necks, and hung their chins -over each other's shoulders and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I -never see two men leak the way they done. And, mind you, everybody was -doing the same and the place was that damp I never see anything like it. -Then one of them got on one side of the coffin, and t'other on t'other -side, and they kneeled down and rested their foreheads on the coffin, and -let on to pray all to themselves. Well, when it come to that it worked -the crowd like you never see anything like it, and everybody broke down -and went to sobbing right out loudthe poor girls, too and every woman, -nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a word, and kissed them, -solemn, on the forehead, and then put their hand on their head, and -looked up towards the sky, with the tears running down, and then busted -out and went off sobbing and swabbing, and give the next woman a show. I -never see anything so disgusting. -Well, by and by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and works -himself up and slobbers out a speech, all full of tears and flapdoodle -about its being a sore trial for him and his poor brother to lose the -diseased, and to miss seeing diseased alive after the long journey of -four thousand mile, but it's a trial that's sweetened and sanctified to -us by this dear sympathy and these holy tears, and so he thanks them out -of his heart and out of his brother's heart, because out of their mouths -they can't, words being too weak and cold, and all that kind of rot and -slush, till it was just sickening and then he blubbers out a pious -goodygoody Amen, and turns himself loose and goes to crying fit to bust. -And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the crowd -struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their might, -and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church letting -out. Music is a good thing and after all that soulbutter and hogwash I -never see it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and bully. -Then the king begins to work his jaw again, and says how him and his -nieces would be glad if a few of the main principal friends of the family -would take supper here with them this evening, and help set up with the -ashes of the diseased and says if his poor brother laying yonder could -speak he knows who he would name, for they was names that was very dear -to him, and mentioned often in his letters and so he will name the same, -to wit, as follows, vizz.Rev. Mr. Hobson, and Deacon Lot Hovey, and -Mr. Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and Dr. Robinson, -and their wives, and the widow Bartley. -Rev. Hobson and Dr. Robinson was down to the end of the town ahunting -togetherthat is, I mean the doctor was shipping a sick man to t'other -world, and the preacher was pinting him right. Lawyer Bell was away up -to Louisville on business. But the rest was on hand, and so they all -come and shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him and -then they shook hands with the duke and didn't say nothing, but just kept -asmiling and bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst he -made all sorts of signs with his hands and said "Googoogoogoogoo" -all the time, like a baby that can't talk. -So the king he blattered along, and managed to inquire about pretty much -everybody and dog in town, by his name, and mentioned all sorts of little -things that happened one time or another in the town, or to George's -family, or to Peter. And he always let on that Peter wrote him the -things but that was a lie he got every blessed one of them out of that -young flathead that we canoed up to the steamboat. -Then Mary Jane she fetched the letter her father left behind, and the -king he read it out loud and cried over it. It give the dwellinghouse -and three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls and it give the tanyard -which was doing a good business, along with some other houses and land -worth about seven thousand, and three thousand dollars in gold to -Harvey and William, and told where the six thousand cash was hid down -cellar. So these two frauds said they'd go and fetch it up, and have -everything square and aboveboard and told me to come with a candle. We -shut the cellar door behind us, and when they found the bag they spilt it -out on the floor, and it was a lovely sight, all them yallerboys. My, -the way the king's eyes did shine He slaps the duke on the shoulder and -says -"Oh, THIS ain't bully nor noth'n Oh, no, I reckon not Why, Billy, it -beats the Nonesuch, DON'T it?" -The duke allowed it did. They pawed the yallerboys, and sifted them -through their fingers and let them jingle down on the floor and the king -says -"It ain't no use talkin' bein' brothers to a rich dead man and -representatives of furrin heirs that's got left is the line for you and -me, Bilge. Thish yer comes of trust'n to Providence. It's the best way, -in the long run. I've tried 'em all, and ther' ain't no better way." -Most everybody would a been satisfied with the pile, and took it on -trust but no, they must count it. So they counts it, and it comes out -four hundred and fifteen dollars short. Says the king -"Dern him, I wonder what he done with that four hundred and fifteen -dollars?" -They worried over that awhile, and ransacked all around for it. Then the -duke says -"Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he made a mistakeI reckon -that's the way of it. The best way's to let it go, and keep still about -it. We can spare it." -"Oh, shucks, yes, we can SPARE it. I don't k'yer noth'n 'bout thatit's -the COUNT I'm thinkin' about. We want to be awful square and open and -aboveboard here, you know. We want to lug this hyer money up stairs -and count it before everybodythen ther' ain't noth'n suspicious. But -when the dead man says ther's six thous'n dollars, you know, we don't -want to" -"Hold on," says the duke. "Le's make up the deffisit," and he begun to -haul out yallerboys out of his pocket. -"It's a most amaz'n' good idea, dukeyou HAVE got a rattlin' clever head -on you," says the king. "Blest if the old Nonesuch ain't a heppin' us -out agin," and HE begun to haul out yallerjackets and stack them up. -It most busted them, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear. -"Say," says the duke, "I got another idea. Le's go up stairs and count -this money, and then take and GIVE IT TO THE GIRLS." -"Good land, duke, lemme hug you It's the most dazzling idea 'at ever a -man struck. You have cert'nly got the most astonishin' head I ever see. -Oh, this is the boss dodge, ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it. Let 'em -fetch along their suspicions now if they want tothis 'll lay 'em out." -When we got upstairs everybody gethered around the table, and the king -he counted it and stacked it up, three hundred dollars in a piletwenty -elegant little piles. Everybody looked hungry at it, and licked their -chops. Then they raked it into the bag again, and I see the king begin -to swell himself up for another speech. He says -"Friends all, my poor brother that lays yonder has done generous by them -that's left behind in the vale of sorrers. He has done generous by these -yer poor little lambs that he loved and sheltered, and that's left -fatherless and motherless. Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he -would a done MORE generous by 'em if he hadn't ben afeard o' woundin' his -dear William and me. Now, WOULDN'T he? Ther' ain't no question 'bout it -in MY mind. Well, then, what kind o' brothers would it be that 'd stand -in his way at sech a time? And what kind o' uncles would it be that 'd -robyes, ROBsech poor sweet lambs as these 'at he loved so at sech a -time? If I know Williamand I THINK I dohewell, I'll jest ask him." -He turns around and begins to make a lot of signs to the duke with his -hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid and leatherheaded a while -then all of a sudden he seems to catch his meaning, and jumps for the -king, googooing with all his might for joy, and hugs him about fifteen -times before he lets up. Then the king says, "I knowed it I reckon THAT -'ll convince anybody the way HE feels about it. Here, Mary Jane, Susan, -Joanner, take the moneytake it ALL. It's the gift of him that lays -yonder, cold but joyful." -Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the harelip went for the duke, and -then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet. And everybody -crowded up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the hands off of -them frauds, saying all the time -"You DEAR good soulshow LOVELYhow COULD you" -Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased -again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that and -before long a big ironjawed man worked himself in there from outside, -and stood alistening and looking, and not saying anything and nobody -saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was -all busy listening. The king was sayingin the middle of something he'd -started in on -"they bein' partickler friends o' the diseased. That's why they're -invited here this evenin' but tomorrow we want ALL to comeeverybody -for he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it's fitten that -his funeral orgies sh'd be public." -And so he went amooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and -every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke -he couldn't stand it no more so he writes on a little scrap of paper, -"OBSEQUIES, you old fool," and folds it up, and goes to googooing and -reaching it over people's heads to him. The king he reads it and puts it -in his pocket, and says -"Poor William, afflicted as he is, his HEART'S aluz right. Asks me to -invite everybody to come to the funeralwants me to make 'em all -welcome. But he needn't a worriedit was jest what I was at." -Then he weaves along again, perfectly ca'm, and goes to dropping in his -funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before. And -when he done it the third time he says -"I say orgies, not because it's the common term, because it ain't -obsequies bein' the common termbut because orgies is the right term. -Obsequies ain't used in England no more nowit's gone out. We say -orgies now in England. Orgies is better, because it means the thing -you're after more exact. It's a word that's made up out'n the Greek -ORGO, outside, open, abroad and the Hebrew JEESUM, to plant, cover up -hence inTER. So, you see, funeral orgies is an open er public funeral." -He was the WORST I ever struck. Well, the ironjawed man he laughed -right in his face. Everybody was shocked. Everybody says, "Why, -DOCTOR" and Abner Shackleford says -"Why, Robinson, hain't you heard the news? This is Harvey Wilks." -The king he smiled eager, and shoved out his flapper, and says -"Is it my poor brother's dear good friend and physician? I" -"Keep your hands off of me" says the doctor. "YOU talk like an -Englishman, DON'T you? It's the worst imitation I ever heard. YOU Peter -Wilks's brother You're a fraud, that's what you are" -Well, how they all took on They crowded around the doctor and tried to -quiet him down, and tried to explain to him and tell him how Harvey 'd -showed in forty ways that he WAS Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, -and the names of the very dogs, and begged and BEGGED him not to hurt -Harvey's feelings and the poor girl's feelings, and all that. But it -warn't no use he stormed right along, and said any man that pretended to -be an Englishman and couldn't imitate the lingo no better than what he -did was a fraud and a liar. The poor girls was hanging to the king and -crying and all of a sudden the doctor ups and turns on THEM. He says -"I was your father's friend, and I'm your friend and I warn you as a -friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you out of -harm and trouble, to turn your backs on that scoundrel and have nothing -to do with him, the ignorant tramp, with his idiotic Greek and Hebrew, as -he calls it. He is the thinnest kind of an impostorhas come here with -a lot of empty names and facts which he picked up somewheres, and you -take them for PROOFS, and are helped to fool yourselves by these foolish -friends here, who ought to know better. Mary Jane Wilks, you know me for -your friend, and for your unselfish friend, too. Now listen to me turn -this pitiful rascal outI BEG you to do it. Will you?" -Mary Jane straightened herself up, and my, but she was handsome She -says -"HERE is my answer." She hove up the bag of money and put it in the -king's hands, and says, "Take this six thousand dollars, and invest for -me and my sisters any way you want to, and don't give us no receipt for -it." -Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the -harelip done the same on the other. Everybody clapped their hands and -stomped on the floor like a perfect storm, whilst the king held up his -head and smiled proud. The doctor says -"All right I wash MY hands of the matter. But I warn you all that a -time 's coming when you're going to feel sick whenever you think of this -day." And away he went. -"All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him "we'll try and -get 'em to send for you" which made them all laugh, and they said it was -a prime good hit. -CHAPTER XXVI. -WELL, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off -for spare rooms, and she said she had one spare room, which would do for -Uncle William, and she'd give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was a -little bigger, and she would turn into the room with her sisters and -sleep on a cot and up garret was a little cubby, with a pallet in it. -The king said the cubby would do for his valleymeaning me. -So Mary Jane took us up, and she showed them their rooms, which was plain -but nice. She said she'd have her frocks and a lot of other traps took -out of her room if they was in Uncle Harvey's way, but he said they -warn't. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them was a -curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was an old -hair trunk in one corner, and a guitarbox in another, and all sorts of -little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room -with. The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for -these fixings, and so don't disturb them. The duke's room was pretty -small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby. -That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, -and I stood behind the king and the duke's chairs and waited on them, and -the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of the -table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits was, -and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried -chickens wasand all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to -force out compliments and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, -and said sosaid "How DO you get biscuits to brown so nice?" and "Where, -for the land's sake, DID you get these amaz'n pickles?" and all that kind -of humbug talkytalk, just the way people always does at a supper, you -know. -And when it was all done me and the harelip had supper in the kitchen -off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up -the things. The harelip she got to pumping me about England, and blest -if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes. She says -"Did you ever see the king?" -"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I havehe goes to our church." I -knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he goes -to our church, she says -"Whatregular?" -"Yesregular. His pew's right over opposite ournon t'other side the -pulpit." -"I thought he lived in London?" -"Well, he does. Where WOULD he live?" -"But I thought YOU lived in Sheffield?" -I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken -bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I says -"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's -only in the summer time, when he comes there to take the sea baths." -"Why, how you talkSheffield ain't on the sea." -"Well, who said it was?" -"Why, you did." -"I DIDN'T nuther." -"You did" -"I didn't." -"You did." -"I never said nothing of the kind." -"Well, what DID you say, then?" -"Said he come to take the sea BATHSthat's what I said." -"Well, then, how's he going to take the sea baths if it ain't on the -sea?" -"Looky here," I says "did you ever see any Congresswater?" -"Yes." -"Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?" -"Why, no." -"Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea -bath." -"How does he get it, then?" -"Gets it the way people down here gets Congresswaterin barrels. There -in the palace at Sheffield they've got furnaces, and he wants his water -hot. They can't bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. -They haven't got no conveniences for it." -"Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved -time." -When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was -comfortable and glad. Next, she says -"Do you go to church, too?" -"Yesregular." -"Where do you set?" -"Why, in our pew." -"WHOSE pew?" -"Why, OURNyour Uncle Harvey's." -"His'n? What does HE want with a pew?" -"Wants it to set in. What did you RECKON he wanted with it?" -"Why, I thought he'd be in the pulpit." -Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I -played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says -"Blame it, do you suppose there ain't but one preacher to a church?" -"Why, what do they want with more?" -"Whatto preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. -They don't have no less than seventeen." -"Seventeen My land Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that, not -if I NEVER got to glory. It must take 'em a week." -"Shucks, they don't ALL of 'em preach the same dayonly ONE of 'em." -"Well, then, what does the rest of 'em do?" -"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plateand one thing or -another. But mainly they don't do nothing." -"Well, then, what are they FOR?" -"Why, they're for STYLE. Don't you know nothing?" -"Well, I don't WANT to know no such foolishness as that. How is servants -treated in England? Do they treat 'em better 'n we treat our niggers?" -"NO A servant ain't nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs." -"Don't they give 'em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year's -week, and Fourth of July?" -"Oh, just listen A body could tell YOU hain't ever been to England by -that. Why, Harelwhy, Joanna, they never see a holiday from year's end -to year's end never go to the circus, nor theater, nor nigger shows, nor -nowheres." -"Nor church?" -"Nor church." -"But YOU always went to church." -Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man's servant. But -next minute I whirled in on a kind of an explanation how a valley was -different from a common servant and HAD to go to church whether he wanted -to or not, and set with the family, on account of its being the law. But -I didn't do it pretty good, and when I got done I see she warn't -satisfied. She says -"Honest injun, now, hain't you been telling me a lot of lies?" -"Honest injun," says I. -"None of it at all?" -"None of it at all. Not a lie in it," says I. -"Lay your hand on this book and say it." -I see it warn't nothing but a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and -said it. So then she looked a little better satisfied, and says -"Well, then, I'll believe some of it but I hope to gracious if I'll -believe the rest." -"What is it you won't believe, Joe?" says Mary Jane, stepping in with -Susan behind her. "It ain't right nor kind for you to talk so to him, -and him a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be -treated so?" -"That's always your way, Maimalways sailing in to help somebody before -they're hurt. I hain't done nothing to him. He's told some stretchers, -I reckon, and I said I wouldn't swallow it all and that's every bit and -grain I DID say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like that, can't -he?" -"I don't care whether 'twas little or whether 'twas big he's here in our -house and a stranger, and it wasn't good of you to say it. If you was in -his place it would make you feel ashamed and so you oughtn't to say a -thing to another person that will make THEM feel ashamed." -"Why, Maim, he said" -"It don't make no difference what he SAIDthat ain't the thing. The -thing is for you to treat him KIND, and not be saying things to make him -remember he ain't in his own country and amongst his own folks." -I says to myself, THIS is a girl that I'm letting that old reptle rob her -of her money -Then Susan SHE waltzed in and if you'll believe me, she did give -Harelip hark from the tomb -Says I to myself, and this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of -her money -Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely -againwhich was her way but when she got done there warn't hardly -anything left o' poor Harelip. So she hollered. -"All right, then," says the other girls "you just ask his pardon." -She done it, too and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful it -was good to hear and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so she -could do it again. -I says to myself, this is ANOTHER one that I'm letting him rob her of her -money. And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves out to -make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends. I felt so ornery -and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind's made up I'll hive -that money for them or bust. -So then I lit outfor bed, I said, meaning some time or another. When I -got by myself I went to thinking the thing over. I says to myself, shall -I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds? Nothat won't -do. He might tell who told him then the king and the duke would make it -warm for me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? NoI dasn't do -it. Her face would give them a hint, sure they've got the money, and -they'd slide right out and get away with it. If she was to fetch in help -I'd get mixed up in the business before it was done with, I judge. No -there ain't no good way but one. I got to steal that money, somehow and -I got to steal it some way that they won't suspicion that I done it. -They've got a good thing here, and they ain't agoing to leave till -they've played this family and this town for all they're worth, so I'll -find a chance time enough. I'll steal it and hide it and by and by, when -I'm away down the river, I'll write a letter and tell Mary Jane where -it's hid. But I better hive it tonight if I can, because the doctor -maybe hasn't let up as much as he lets on he has he might scare them out -of here yet. -So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was dark, -but I found the duke's room, and started to paw around it with my hands -but I recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let anybody else -take care of that money but his own self so then I went to his room and -begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn't do nothing without a -candle, and I dasn't light one, of course. So I judged I'd got to do the -other thinglay for them and eavesdrop. About that time I hears their -footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed I reached for it, -but it wasn't where I thought it would be but I touched the curtain that -hid Mary Jane's frocks, so I jumped in behind that and snuggled in -amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still. -They come in and shut the door and the first thing the duke done was to -get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn't found the bed -when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it's kind of natural to hide under -the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and -the king says -"Well, what is it? And cut it middlin' short, because it's better for us -to be down there awhoopin' up the mournin' than up here givin' 'em a -chance to talk us over." -"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy I ain't comfortable. That -doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I've got a notion, -and I think it's a sound one." -"What is it, duke?" -"That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip -it down the river with what we've got. Specially, seeing we got it so -easyGIVEN back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of -course we allowed to have to steal it back. I'm for knocking off and -lighting out." -That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been a -little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed, The king -rips out and says -"What And not sell out the rest o' the property? March off like a -passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous'n' dollars' worth o' -property layin' around jest sufferin' to be scooped in?and all good, -salable stuff, too." -The duke he grumbled said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't want -to go no deeperdidn't want to rob a lot of orphans of EVERYTHING they -had. -"Why, how you talk" says the king. "We sha'n't rob 'em of nothing at -all but jest this money. The people that BUYS the property is the -suff'rers because as soon 's it's found out 'at we didn't own itwhich -won't be long after we've slidthe sale won't be valid, and it 'll all -go back to the estate. These yer orphans 'll git their house back agin, -and that's enough for THEM they're young and spry, and k'n easy earn a -livin'. THEY ain't agoin to suffer. Why, jest thinkthere's thous'n's -and thous'n's that ain't nigh so well off. Bless you, THEY ain't got -noth'n' to complain of." -Well, the king he talked him blind so at last he give in, and said all -right, but said he believed it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that -doctor hanging over them. But the king says -"Cuss the doctor What do we k'yer for HIM? Hain't we got all the fools -in town on our side? And ain't that a big enough majority in any town?" -So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says -"I don't think we put that money in a good place." -That cheered me up. I'd begun to think I warn't going to get a hint of -no kind to help me. The king says -"Why?" -"Because Mary Jane 'll be in mourning from this out and first you know -the nigger that does up the rooms will get an order to box these duds up -and put 'em away and do you reckon a nigger can run across money and not -borrow some of it?" -"Your head's level agin, duke," says the king and he comes afumbling -under the curtain two or three foot from where I was. I stuck tight to -the wall and kept mighty still, though quivery and I wondered what them -fellows would say to me if they catched me and I tried to think what I'd -better do if they did catch me. But the king he got the bag before I -could think more than about a half a thought, and he never suspicioned I -was around. They took and shoved the bag through a rip in the straw tick -that was under the featherbed, and crammed it in a foot or two amongst -the straw and said it was all right now, because a nigger only makes up -the featherbed, and don't turn over the straw tick only about twice a -year, and so it warn't in no danger of getting stole now. -But I knowed better. I had it out of there before they was halfway down -stairs. I groped along up to my cubby, and hid it there till I could get -a chance to do better. I judged I better hide it outside of the house -somewheres, because if they missed it they would give the house a good -ransacking I knowed that very well. Then I turned in, with my clothes -all on but I couldn't a gone to sleep if I'd a wanted to, I was in such -a sweat to get through with the business. By and by I heard the king and -the duke come up so I rolled off my pallet and laid with my chin at the -top of my ladder, and waited to see if anything was going to happen. But -nothing did. -So I held on till all the late sounds had quit and the early ones hadn't -begun yet and then I slipped down the ladder. -CHAPTER XXVII. -I CREPT to their doors and listened they was snoring. So I tiptoed -along, and got down stairs all right. There warn't a sound anywheres. I -peeped through a crack of the diningroom door, and see the men that was -watching the corpse all sound asleep on their chairs. The door was open -into the parlor, where the corpse was laying, and there was a candle in -both rooms. I passed along, and the parlor door was open but I see there -warn't nobody in there but the remainders of Peter so I shoved on by -but the front door was locked, and the key wasn't there. Just then I -heard somebody coming down the stairs, back behind me. I run in the -parlor and took a swift look around, and the only place I see to hide the -bag was in the coffin. The lid was shoved along about a foot, showing -the dead man's face down in there, with a wet cloth over it, and his -shroud on. I tucked the moneybag in under the lid, just down beyond -where his hands was crossed, which made me creep, they was so cold, and -then I run back across the room and in behind the door. -The person coming was Mary Jane. She went to the coffin, very soft, and -kneeled down and looked in then she put up her handkerchief, and I see -she begun to cry, though I couldn't hear her, and her back was to me. I -slid out, and as I passed the diningroom I thought I'd make sure them -watchers hadn't seen me so I looked through the crack, and everything -was all right. They hadn't stirred. -I slipped up to bed, feeling ruther blue, on accounts of the thing -playing out that way after I had took so much trouble and run so much -resk about it. Says I, if it could stay where it is, all right because -when we get down the river a hundred mile or two I could write back to -Mary Jane, and she could dig him up again and get it but that ain't the -thing that's going to happen the thing that's going to happen is, the -money 'll be found when they come to screw on the lid. Then the king 'll -get it again, and it 'll be a long day before he gives anybody another -chance to smouch it from him. Of course I WANTED to slide down and get it -out of there, but I dasn't try it. Every minute it was getting earlier -now, and pretty soon some of them watchers would begin to stir, and I -might get catchedcatched with six thousand dollars in my hands that -nobody hadn't hired me to take care of. I don't wish to be mixed up in -no such business as that, I says to myself. -When I got down stairs in the morning the parlor was shut up, and the -watchers was gone. There warn't nobody around but the family and the -widow Bartley and our tribe. I watched their faces to see if anything -had been happening, but I couldn't tell. -Towards the middle of the day the undertaker come with his man, and they -set the coffin in the middle of the room on a couple of chairs, and then -set all our chairs in rows, and borrowed more from the neighbors till the -hall and the parlor and the diningroom was full. I see the coffin lid -was the way it was before, but I dasn't go to look in under it, with -folks around. -Then the people begun to flock in, and the beats and the girls took seats -in the front row at the head of the coffin, and for a half an hour the -people filed around slow, in single rank, and looked down at the dead -man's face a minute, and some dropped in a tear, and it was all very -still and solemn, only the girls and the beats holding handkerchiefs to -their eyes and keeping their heads bent, and sobbing a little. There -warn't no other sound but the scraping of the feet on the floor and -blowing nosesbecause people always blows them more at a funeral than -they do at other places except church. -When the place was packed full the undertaker he slid around in his black -gloves with his softy soothering ways, putting on the last touches, and -getting people and things all shipshape and comfortable, and making no -more sound than a cat. He never spoke he moved people around, he -squeezed in late ones, he opened up passageways, and done it with nods, -and signs with his hands. Then he took his place over against the wall. -He was the softest, glidingest, stealthiest man I ever see and there -warn't no more smile to him than there is to a ham. -They had borrowed a melodeuma sick one and when everything was ready a -young woman set down and worked it, and it was pretty skreeky and -colicky, and everybody joined in and sung, and Peter was the only one -that had a good thing, according to my notion. Then the Reverend Hobson -opened up, slow and solemn, and begun to talk and straight off the most -outrageous row busted out in the cellar a body ever heard it was only -one dog, but he made a most powerful racket, and he kept it up right -along the parson he had to stand there, over the coffin, and waityou -couldn't hear yourself think. It was right down awkward, and nobody -didn't seem to know what to do. But pretty soon they see that -longlegged undertaker make a sign to the preacher as much as to say, -"Don't you worryjust depend on me." Then he stooped down and begun to -glide along the wall, just his shoulders showing over the people's heads. -So he glided along, and the powwow and racket getting more and more -outrageous all the time and at last, when he had gone around two sides -of the room, he disappears down cellar. Then in about two seconds we -heard a whack, and the dog he finished up with a most amazing howl or -two, and then everything was dead still, and the parson begun his solemn -talk where he left off. In a minute or two here comes this undertaker's -back and shoulders gliding along the wall again and so he glided and -glided around three sides of the room, and then rose up, and shaded his -mouth with his hands, and stretched his neck out towards the preacher, -over the people's heads, and says, in a kind of a coarse whisper, "HE HAD -A RAT" Then he drooped down and glided along the wall again to his -place. You could see it was a great satisfaction to the people, because -naturally they wanted to know. A little thing like that don't cost -nothing, and it's just the little things that makes a man to be looked up -to and liked. There warn't no more popular man in town than what that -undertaker was. -Well, the funeral sermon was very good, but pison long and tiresome and -then the king he shoved in and got off some of his usual rubbage, and at -last the job was through, and the undertaker begun to sneak up on the -coffin with his screwdriver. I was in a sweat then, and watched him -pretty keen. But he never meddled at all just slid the lid along as soft -as mush, and screwed it down tight and fast. So there I was I didn't -know whether the money was in there or not. So, says I, s'pose somebody -has hogged that bag on the sly?now how do I know whether to write to -Mary Jane or not? S'pose she dug him up and didn't find nothing, what -would she think of me? Blame it, I says, I might get hunted up and -jailed I'd better lay low and keep dark, and not write at all the -thing's awful mixed now trying to better it, I've worsened it a hundred -times, and I wish to goodness I'd just let it alone, dad fetch the whole -business -They buried him, and we come back home, and I went to watching faces -againI couldn't help it, and I couldn't rest easy. But nothing come -of it the faces didn't tell me nothing. -The king he visited around in the evening, and sweetened everybody up, -and made himself ever so friendly and he give out the idea that his -congregation over in England would be in a sweat about him, so he must -hurry and settle up the estate right away and leave for home. He was -very sorry he was so pushed, and so was everybody they wished he could -stay longer, but they said they could see it couldn't be done. And he -said of course him and William would take the girls home with them and -that pleased everybody too, because then the girls would be well fixed -and amongst their own relations and it pleased the girls, tootickled -them so they clean forgot they ever had a trouble in the world and told -him to sell out as quick as he wanted to, they would be ready. Them poor -things was that glad and happy it made my heart ache to see them getting -fooled and lied to so, but I didn't see no safe way for me to chip in and -change the general tune. -Well, blamed if the king didn't bill the house and the niggers and all -the property for auction straight offsale two days after the funeral -but anybody could buy private beforehand if they wanted to. -So the next day after the funeral, along about noontime, the girls' joy -got the first jolt. A couple of nigger traders come along, and the king -sold them the niggers reasonable, for threeday drafts as they called it, -and away they went, the two sons up the river to Memphis, and their -mother down the river to Orleans. I thought them poor girls and them -niggers would break their hearts for grief they cried around each other, -and took on so it most made me down sick to see it. The girls said they -hadn't ever dreamed of seeing the family separated or sold away from the -town. I can't ever get it out of my memory, the sight of them poor -miserable girls and niggers hanging around each other's necks and crying -and I reckon I couldn't a stood it all, but would a had to bust out and -tell on our gang if I hadn't knowed the sale warn't no account and the -niggers would be back home in a week or two. -The thing made a big stir in the town, too, and a good many come out -flatfooted and said it was scandalous to separate the mother and the -children that way. It injured the frauds some but the old fool he -bulled right along, spite of all the duke could say or do, and I tell you -the duke was powerful uneasy. -Next day was auction day. About broad day in the morning the king and -the duke come up in the garret and woke me up, and I see by their look -that there was trouble. The king says -"Was you in my room night before last?" -"No, your majesty"which was the way I always called him when nobody but -our gang warn't around. -"Was you in there yisterday er last night?" -"No, your majesty." -"Honor bright, nowno lies." -"Honor bright, your majesty, I'm telling you the truth. I hain't been -anear your room since Miss Mary Jane took you and the duke and showed it -to you." -The duke says -"Have you seen anybody else go in there?" -"No, your grace, not as I remember, I believe." -"Stop and think." -I studied awhile and see my chance then I says -"Well, I see the niggers go in there several times." -Both of them gave a little jump, and looked like they hadn't ever -expected it, and then like they HAD. Then the duke says -"What, all of them?" -"Noleastways, not all at oncethat is, I don't think I ever see them -all come OUT at once but just one time." -"Hello When was that?" -"It was the day we had the funeral. In the morning. It warn't early, -because I overslept. I was just starting down the ladder, and I see -them." -"Well, go on, GO on What did they do? How'd they act?" -"They didn't do nothing. And they didn't act anyway much, as fur as I -see. They tiptoed away so I seen, easy enough, that they'd shoved in -there to do up your majesty's room, or something, s'posing you was up -and found you WARN'T up, and so they was hoping to slide out of the way -of trouble without waking you up, if they hadn't already waked you up." -"Great guns, THIS is a go" says the king and both of them looked pretty -sick and tolerable silly. They stood there athinking and scratching -their heads a minute, and the duke he bust into a kind of a little raspy -chuckle, and says -"It does beat all how neat the niggers played their hand. They let on to -be SORRY they was going out of this region And I believed they WAS -sorry, and so did you, and so did everybody. Don't ever tell ME any more -that a nigger ain't got any histrionic talent. Why, the way they played -that thing it would fool ANYBODY. In my opinion, there's a fortune in -'em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn't want a better layout -than thatand here we've gone and sold 'em for a song. Yes, and ain't -privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where IS that songthat draft?" -"In the bank for to be collected. Where WOULD it be?" -"Well, THAT'S all right then, thank goodness." -Says I, kind of timidlike -"Is something gone wrong?" -The king whirls on me and rips out -"None o' your business You keep your head shet, and mind y'r own -affairsif you got any. Long as you're in this town don't you forgit -THATyou hear?" Then he says to the duke, "We got to jest swaller it -and say noth'n' mum's the word for US." -As they was starting down the ladder the duke he chuckles again, and -says -"Quick sales AND small profits It's a good businessyes." -The king snarls around on him and says -"I was trying to do for the best in sellin' 'em out so quick. If the -profits has turned out to be none, lackin' considable, and none to carry, -is it my fault any more'n it's yourn?" -"Well, THEY'D be in this house yet and we WOULDN'T if I could a got my -advice listened to." -The king sassed back as much as was safe for him, and then swapped around -and lit into ME again. He give me down the banks for not coming and -TELLING him I see the niggers come out of his room acting that waysaid -any fool would a KNOWED something was up. And then waltzed in and cussed -HIMSELF awhile, and said it all come of him not laying late and taking -his natural rest that morning, and he'd be blamed if he'd ever do it -again. So they went off ajawing and I felt dreadful glad I'd worked it -all off on to the niggers, and yet hadn't done the niggers no harm by it. -CHAPTER XXVIII. -BY and by it was gettingup time. So I come down the ladder and started -for downstairs but as I come to the girls' room the door was open, and -I see Mary Jane setting by her old hair trunk, which was open and she'd -been packing things in itgetting ready to go to England. But she had -stopped now with a folded gown in her lap, and had her face in her hands, -crying. I felt awful bad to see it of course anybody would. I went in -there and says -"Miss Mary Jane, you can't abear to see people in trouble, and I can't -most always. Tell me about it." -So she done it. And it was the niggersI just expected it. She said -the beautiful trip to England was most about spoiled for her she didn't -know HOW she was ever going to be happy there, knowing the mother and the -children warn't ever going to see each other no moreand then busted out -bitterer than ever, and flung up her hands, and says -"Oh, dear, dear, to think they ain't EVER going to see each other any -more" -"But they WILLand inside of two weeksand I KNOW it" says I. -Laws, it was out before I could think And before I could budge she -throws her arms around my neck and told me to say it AGAIN, say it AGAIN, -say it AGAIN -I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close place. -I asked her to let me think a minute and she set there, very impatient -and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and easedup, like a -person that's had a tooth pulled out. So I went to studying it out. I -says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is -in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, though I ain't had no -experience, and can't say for certain but it looks so to me, anyway and -yet here's a case where I'm blest if it don't look to me like the truth -is better and actuly SAFER than a lie. I must lay it by in my mind, and -think it over some time or other, it's so kind of strange and unregular. -I never see nothing like it. Well, I says to myself at last, I'm agoing -to chance it I'll up and tell the truth this time, though it does seem -most like setting down on a kag of powder and touching it off just to see -where you'll go to. Then I says -"Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you -could go and stay three or four days?" -"Yes Mr. Lothrop's. Why?" -"Never mind why yet. If I'll tell you how I know the niggers will see -each other again inside of two weekshere in this houseand PROVE how I -know itwill you go to Mr. Lothrop's and stay four days?" -"Four days" she says "I'll stay a year" -"All right," I says, "I don't want nothing more out of YOU than just your -wordI druther have it than another man's kisstheBible." She smiled -and reddened up very sweet, and I says, "If you don't mind it, I'll shut -the doorand bolt it." -Then I come back and set down again, and says -"Don't you holler. Just set still and take it like a man. I got to tell -the truth, and you want to brace up, Miss Mary, because it's a bad kind, -and going to be hard to take, but there ain't no help for it. These -uncles of yourn ain't no uncles at all they're a couple of frauds -regular deadbeats. There, now we're over the worst of it, you can stand -the rest middling easy." -It jolted her up like everything, of course but I was over the shoal -water now, so I went right along, her eyes ablazing higher and higher -all the time, and told her every blame thing, from where we first struck -that young fool going up to the steamboat, clear through to where she -flung herself on to the king's breast at the front door and he kissed her -sixteen or seventeen timesand then up she jumps, with her face afire -like sunset, and says -"The brute Come, don't waste a minutenot a SECONDwe'll have them -tarred and feathered, and flung in the river" -Says I -"Cert'nly. But do you mean BEFORE you go to Mr. Lothrop's, or" -"Oh," she says, "what am I THINKING about" she says, and set right down -again. "Don't mind what I saidplease don'tyou WON'T, now, WILL you?" -Laying her silky hand on mine in that kind of a way that I said I would -die first. "I never thought, I was so stirred up," she says "now go on, -and I won't do so any more. You tell me what to do, and whatever you say -I'll do it." -"Well," I says, "it's a rough gang, them two frauds, and I'm fixed so I -got to travel with them a while longer, whether I want to or notI -druther not tell you why and if you was to blow on them this town would -get me out of their claws, and I'd be all right but there'd be another -person that you don't know about who'd be in big trouble. Well, we got -to save HIM, hain't we? Of course. Well, then, we won't blow on them." -Saying them words put a good idea in my head. I see how maybe I could -get me and Jim rid of the frauds get them jailed here, and then leave. -But I didn't want to run the raft in the daytime without anybody aboard -to answer questions but me so I didn't want the plan to begin working -till pretty late tonight. I says -"Miss Mary Jane, I'll tell you what we'll do, and you won't have to stay -at Mr. Lothrop's so long, nuther. How fur is it?" -"A little short of four milesright out in the country, back here." -"Well, that 'll answer. Now you go along out there, and lay low till -nine or halfpast tonight, and then get them to fetch you home again -tell them you've thought of something. If you get here before eleven put -a candle in this window, and if I don't turn up wait TILL eleven, and -THEN if I don't turn up it means I'm gone, and out of the way, and safe. -Then you come out and spread the news around, and get these beats -jailed." -"Good," she says, "I'll do it." -"And if it just happens so that I don't get away, but get took up along -with them, you must up and say I told you the whole thing beforehand, and -you must stand by me all you can." -"Stand by you indeed I will. They sha'n't touch a hair of your head" -she says, and I see her nostrils spread and her eyes snap when she said -it, too. -"If I get away I sha'n't be here," I says, "to prove these rapscallions -ain't your uncles, and I couldn't do it if I WAS here. I could swear -they was beats and bummers, that's all, though that's worth something. -Well, there's others can do that better than what I can, and they're -people that ain't going to be doubted as quick as I'd be. I'll tell you -how to find them. Gimme a pencil and a piece of paper. There'Royal -Nonesuch, Bricksville.' Put it away, and don't lose it. When the court -wants to find out something about these two, let them send up to -Bricksville and say they've got the men that played the Royal Nonesuch, -and ask for some witnesseswhy, you'll have that entire town down here -before you can hardly wink, Miss Mary. And they'll come abiling, too." -I judged we had got everything fixed about right now. So I says -"Just let the auction go right along, and don't worry. Nobody don't have -to pay for the things they buy till a whole day after the auction on -accounts of the short notice, and they ain't going out of this till they -get that money and the way we've fixed it the sale ain't going to count, -and they ain't going to get no money. It's just like the way it was with -the niggersit warn't no sale, and the niggers will be back before -long. Why, they can't collect the money for the NIGGERS yetthey're in -the worst kind of a fix, Miss Mary." -"Well," she says, "I'll run down to breakfast now, and then I'll start -straight for Mr. Lothrop's." -"'Deed, THAT ain't the ticket, Miss Mary Jane," I says, "by no manner of -means go BEFORE breakfast." -"Why?" -"What did you reckon I wanted you to go at all for, Miss Mary?" -"Well, I never thoughtand come to think, I don't know. What was it?" -"Why, it's because you ain't one of these leatherface people. I don't -want no better book than what your face is. A body can set down and read -it off like coarse print. Do you reckon you can go and face your uncles -when they come to kiss you goodmorning, and never" -"There, there, don't Yes, I'll go before breakfastI'll be glad to. -And leave my sisters with them?" -"Yes never mind about them. They've got to stand it yet a while. They -might suspicion something if all of you was to go. I don't want you to -see them, nor your sisters, nor nobody in this town if a neighbor was to -ask how is your uncles this morning your face would tell something. No, -you go right along, Miss Mary Jane, and I'll fix it with all of them. -I'll tell Miss Susan to give your love to your uncles and say you've went -away for a few hours for to get a little rest and change, or to see a -friend, and you'll be back tonight or early in the morning." -"Gone to see a friend is all right, but I won't have my love given to -them." -"Well, then, it sha'n't be." It was well enough to tell HER sono harm -in it. It was only a little thing to do, and no trouble and it's the -little things that smooths people's roads the most, down here below it -would make Mary Jane comfortable, and it wouldn't cost nothing. Then I -says "There's one more thingthat bag of money." -"Well, they've got that and it makes me feel pretty silly to think HOW -they got it." -"No, you're out, there. They hain't got it." -"Why, who's got it?" -"I wish I knowed, but I don't. I HAD it, because I stole it from them -and I stole it to give to you and I know where I hid it, but I'm afraid -it ain't there no more. I'm awful sorry, Miss Mary Jane, I'm just as -sorry as I can be but I done the best I could I did honest. I come -nigh getting caught, and I had to shove it into the first place I come -to, and runand it warn't a good place." -"Oh, stop blaming yourselfit's too bad to do it, and I won't allow it -you couldn't help it it wasn't your fault. Where did you hide it?" -I didn't want to set her to thinking about her troubles again and I -couldn't seem to get my mouth to tell her what would make her see that -corpse laying in the coffin with that bag of money on his stomach. So -for a minute I didn't say nothing then I says -"I'd ruther not TELL you where I put it, Miss Mary Jane, if you don't -mind letting me off but I'll write it for you on a piece of paper, and -you can read it along the road to Mr. Lothrop's, if you want to. Do you -reckon that 'll do?" -"Oh, yes." -So I wrote "I put it in the coffin. It was in there when you was -crying there, away in the night. I was behind the door, and I was mighty -sorry for you, Miss Mary Jane." -It made my eyes water a little to remember her crying there all by -herself in the night, and them devils laying there right under her own -roof, shaming her and robbing her and when I folded it up and give it to -her I see the water come into her eyes, too and she shook me by the -hand, hard, and says -"GOODbye. I'm going to do everything just as you've told me and if I -don't ever see you again, I sha'n't ever forget you and I'll think of -you a many and a many a time, and I'll PRAY for you, too"and she was -gone. -Pray for me I reckoned if she knowed me she'd take a job that was more -nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the sameshe was just that -kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notionthere -warn't no backdown to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but -in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see in my -opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain't -no flattery. And when it comes to beautyand goodness, tooshe lays -over them all. I hain't ever seen her since that time that I see her go -out of that door no, I hain't ever seen her since, but I reckon I've -thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she -would pray for me and if ever I'd a thought it would do any good for me -to pray for HER, blamed if I wouldn't a done it or bust. -Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon because nobody see -her go. When I struck Susan and the harelip, I says -"What's the name of them people over on t'other side of the river that -you all goes to see sometimes?" -They says -"There's several but it's the Proctors, mainly." -"That's the name," I says "I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she -told me to tell you she's gone over there in a dreadful hurryone of -them's sick." -"Which one?" -"I don't know leastways, I kinder forget but I thinks it's" -"Sakes alive, I hope it ain't HANNER?" -"I'm sorry to say it," I says, "but Hanner's the very one." -"My goodness, and she so well only last week Is she took bad?" -"It ain't no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary Jane -said, and they don't think she'll last many hours." -"Only think of that, now What's the matter with her?" -I couldn't think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says -"Mumps." -"Mumps your granny They don't set up with people that's got the mumps." -"They don't, don't they? You better bet they do with THESE mumps. These -mumps is different. It's a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said." -"How's it a new kind?" -"Because it's mixed up with other things." -"What other things?" -"Well, measles, and whoopingcough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and -yaller janders, and brainfever, and I don't know what all." -"My land And they call it the MUMPS?" -"That's what Miss Mary Jane said." -"Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?" -"Why, because it IS the mumps. That's what it starts with." -"Well, ther' ain't no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take -pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains -out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull -up and say, 'Why, he stumped his TOE.' Would ther' be any sense in that? -NO. And ther' ain't no sense in THIS, nuther. Is it ketching?" -"Is it KETCHING? Why, how you talk. Is a HARROW catchingin the dark? -If you don't hitch on to one tooth, you're bound to on another, ain't -you? And you can't get away with that tooth without fetching the whole -harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a harrow, -as you may sayand it ain't no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you come to -get it hitched on good." -"Well, it's awful, I think," says the harelip. "I'll go to Uncle Harvey -and" -"Oh, yes," I says, "I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn't lose no -time." -"Well, why wouldn't you?" -"Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain't your uncles -obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you -reckon they'd be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that -journey by yourselves? YOU know they'll wait for you. So fur, so good. -Your uncle Harvey's a preacher, ain't he? Very well, then is a PREACHER -going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive a SHIP CLERK? -so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now YOU know he -ain't. What WILL he do, then? Why, he'll say, 'It's a great pity, but -my church matters has got to get along the best way they can for my -niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribusunum mumps, and so it's -my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months it takes to -show on her if she's got it.' But never mind, if you think it's best to -tell your uncle Harvey" -"Shucks, and stay fooling around here when we could all be having good -times in England whilst we was waiting to find out whether Mary Jane's -got it or not? Why, you talk like a muggins." -"Well, anyway, maybe you'd better tell some of the neighbors." -"Listen at that, now. You do beat all for natural stupidness. Can't you -SEE that THEY'D go and tell? Ther' ain't no way but just to not tell -anybody at ALL." -"Well, maybe you're rightyes, I judge you ARE right." -"But I reckon we ought to tell Uncle Harvey she's gone out a while, -anyway, so he won't be uneasy about her?" -"Yes, Miss Mary Jane she wanted you to do that. She says, 'Tell them to -give Uncle Harvey and William my love and a kiss, and say I've run over -the river to see Mr.'Mr.what IS the name of that rich family your -uncle Peter used to think so much of?I mean the one that" -"Why, you must mean the Apthorps, ain't it?" -"Of course bother them kind of names, a body can't ever seem to remember -them, half the time, somehow. Yes, she said, say she has run over for to -ask the Apthorps to be sure and come to the auction and buy this house, -because she allowed her uncle Peter would ruther they had it than anybody -else and she's going to stick to them till they say they'll come, and -then, if she ain't too tired, she's coming home and if she is, she'll be -home in the morning anyway. She said, don't say nothing about the -Proctors, but only about the Apthorpswhich 'll be perfectly true, -because she is going there to speak about their buying the house I know -it, because she told me so herself." -"All right," they said, and cleared out to lay for their uncles, and give -them the love and the kisses, and tell them the message. -Everything was all right now. The girls wouldn't say nothing because -they wanted to go to England and the king and the duke would ruther Mary -Jane was off working for the auction than around in reach of Doctor -Robinson. I felt very good I judged I had done it pretty neatI -reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn't a done it no neater himself. Of course he -would a throwed more style into it, but I can't do that very handy, not -being brung up to it. -Well, they held the auction in the public square, along towards the end -of the afternoon, and it strung along, and strung along, and the old man -he was on hand and looking his level pisonest, up there longside of the -auctioneer, and chipping in a little Scripture now and then, or a little -goodygoody saying of some kind, and the duke he was around googooing -for sympathy all he knowed how, and just spreading himself generly. -But by and by the thing dragged through, and everything was sold -everything but a little old trifling lot in the graveyard. So they'd got -to work that offI never see such a girafft as the king was for wanting -to swallow EVERYTHING. Well, whilst they was at it a steamboat landed, -and in about two minutes up comes a crowd awhooping and yelling and -laughing and carrying on, and singing out -"HERE'S your opposition line here's your two sets o' heirs to old Peter -Wilksand you pays your money and you takes your choice" -CHAPTER XXIX. -THEY was fetching a very nicelooking old gentleman along, and a -nicelooking younger one, with his right arm in a sling. And, my souls, -how the people yelled and laughed, and kept it up. But I didn't see no -joke about it, and I judged it would strain the duke and the king some to -see any. I reckoned they'd turn pale. But no, nary a pale did THEY -turn. The duke he never let on he suspicioned what was up, but just went -a googooing around, happy and satisfied, like a jug that's googling out -buttermilk and as for the king, he just gazed and gazed down sorrowful -on them newcomers like it give him the stomachache in his very heart to -think there could be such frauds and rascals in the world. Oh, he done -it admirable. Lots of the principal people gethered around the king, to -let him see they was on his side. That old gentleman that had just come -looked all puzzled to death. Pretty soon he begun to speak, and I see -straight off he pronounced LIKE an Englishmannot the king's way, though -the king's WAS pretty good for an imitation. I can't give the old gent's -words, nor I can't imitate him but he turned around to the crowd, and -says, about like this -"This is a surprise to me which I wasn't looking for and I'll -acknowledge, candid and frank, I ain't very well fixed to meet it and -answer it for my brother and me has had misfortunes he's broke his arm, -and our baggage got put off at a town above here last night in the night -by a mistake. I am Peter Wilks' brother Harvey, and this is his brother -William, which can't hear nor speakand can't even make signs to amount -to much, now't he's only got one hand to work them with. We are who we -say we are and in a day or two, when I get the baggage, I can prove it. -But up till then I won't say nothing more, but go to the hotel and wait." -So him and the new dummy started off and the king he laughs, and -blethers out -"Broke his armVERY likely, AIN'T it?and very convenient, too, for a -fraud that's got to make signs, and ain't learnt how. Lost their -baggage That's MIGHTY goodand mighty ingeniousunder the -CIRCUMSTANCES" -So he laughed again and so did everybody else, except three or four, or -maybe half a dozen. One of these was that doctor another one was a -sharplooking gentleman, with a carpetbag of the oldfashioned kind made -out of carpetstuff, that had just come off of the steamboat and was -talking to him in a low voice, and glancing towards the king now and then -and nodding their headsit was Levi Bell, the lawyer that was gone up to -Louisville and another one was a big rough husky that come along and -listened to all the old gentleman said, and was listening to the king -now. And when the king got done this husky up and says -"Say, looky here if you are Harvey Wilks, when'd you come to this town?" -"The day before the funeral, friend," says the king. -"But what time o' day?" -"In the evenin''bout an hour er two before sundown." -"HOW'D you come?" -"I come down on the Susan Powell from Cincinnati." -"Well, then, how'd you come to be up at the Pint in the MORNIN'in a -canoe?" -"I warn't up at the Pint in the mornin'." -"It's a lie." -Several of them jumped for him and begged him not to talk that way to an -old man and a preacher. -"Preacher be hanged, he's a fraud and a liar. He was up at the Pint that -mornin'. I live up there, don't I? Well, I was up there, and he was up -there. I see him there. He come in a canoe, along with Tim Collins and -a boy." -The doctor he up and says -"Would you know the boy again if you was to see him, Hines?" -"I reckon I would, but I don't know. Why, yonder he is, now. I know him -perfectly easy." -It was me he pointed at. The doctor says -"Neighbors, I don't know whether the new couple is frauds or not but if -THESE two ain't frauds, I am an idiot, that's all. I think it's our duty -to see that they don't get away from here till we've looked into this -thing. Come along, Hines come along, the rest of you. We'll take these -fellows to the tavern and affront them with t'other couple, and I reckon -we'll find out SOMETHING before we get through." -It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not for the king's friends so we -all started. It was about sundown. The doctor he led me along by the -hand, and was plenty kind enough, but he never let go my hand. -We all got in a big room in the hotel, and lit up some candles, and -fetched in the new couple. First, the doctor says -"I don't wish to be too hard on these two men, but I think they're -frauds, and they may have complices that we don't know nothing about. If -they have, won't the complices get away with that bag of gold Peter Wilks -left? It ain't unlikely. If these men ain't frauds, they won't object -to sending for that money and letting us keep it till they prove they're -all rightain't that so?" -Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty -tight place right at the outstart. But the king he only looked -sorrowful, and says -"Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain't got no disposition to -throw anything in the way of a fair, open, outandout investigation o' -this misable business but, alas, the money ain't there you k'n send and -see, if you want to." -"Where is it, then?" -"Well, when my niece give it to me to keep for her I took and hid it -inside o' the straw tick o' my bed, not wishin' to bank it for the few -days we'd be here, and considerin' the bed a safe place, we not bein' -used to niggers, and suppos'n' 'em honest, like servants in England. The -niggers stole it the very next mornin' after I had went down stairs and -when I sold 'em I hadn't missed the money yit, so they got clean away -with it. My servant here k'n tell you 'bout it, gentlemen." -The doctor and several said "Shucks" and I see nobody didn't altogether -believe him. One man asked me if I see the niggers steal it. I said no, -but I see them sneaking out of the room and hustling away, and I never -thought nothing, only I reckoned they was afraid they had waked up my -master and was trying to get away before he made trouble with them. That -was all they asked me. Then the doctor whirls on me and says -"Are YOU English, too?" -I says yes and him and some others laughed, and said, "Stuff" -Well, then they sailed in on the general investigation, and there we had -it, up and down, hour in, hour out, and nobody never said a word about -supper, nor ever seemed to think about itand so they kept it up, and -kept it up and it WAS the worst mixedup thing you ever see. They made -the king tell his yarn, and they made the old gentleman tell his'n and -anybody but a lot of prejudiced chuckleheads would a SEEN that the old -gentleman was spinning truth and t'other one lies. And by and by they -had me up to tell what I knowed. The king he give me a lefthanded look -out of the corner of his eye, and so I knowed enough to talk on the right -side. I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, and all -about the English Wilkses, and so on but I didn't get pretty fur till -the doctor begun to laugh and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says -"Set down, my boy I wouldn't strain myself if I was you. I reckon you -ain't used to lying, it don't seem to come handy what you want is -practice. You do it pretty awkward." -I didn't care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off, -anyway. -The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says -"If you'd been in town at first, Levi Bell" The king broke in and -reached out his hand, and says -"Why, is this my poor dead brother's old friend that he's wrote so often -about?" -The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked pleased, -and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side and talked -low and at last the lawyer speaks up and says -"That 'll fix it. I'll take the order and send it, along with your -brother's, and then they'll know it's all right." -So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted -his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something -and then they give the pen to the dukeand then for the first time the -duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote. So then the lawyer -turns to the new old gentleman and says -"You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names." -The old gentleman wrote, but nobody couldn't read it. The lawyer looked -powerful astonished, and says -"Well, it beats ME"and snaked a lot of old letters out of his pocket, -and examined them, and then examined the old man's writing, and then THEM -again and then says "These old letters is from Harvey Wilks and -here's THESE two handwritings, and anybody can see they didn't write -them" the king and the duke looked sold and foolish, I tell you, to see -how the lawyer had took them in, "and here's THIS old gentleman's hand -writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, HE didn't write themfact -is, the scratches he makes ain't properly WRITING at all. Now, here's -some letters from" -The new old gentleman says -"If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother -thereso he copies for me. It's HIS hand you've got there, not mine." -"WELL" says the lawyer, "this IS a state of things. I've got some of -William's letters, too so if you'll get him to write a line or so we can -com" -"He CAN'T write with his left hand," says the old gentleman. "If he -could use his right hand, you would see that he wrote his own letters and -mine too. Look at both, pleasethey're by the same hand." -The lawyer done it, and says -"I believe it's soand if it ain't so, there's a heap stronger -resemblance than I'd noticed before, anyway. Well, well, well I -thought we was right on the track of a solution, but it's gone to grass, -partly. But anyway, one thing is provedTHESE two ain't either of 'em -Wilkses"and he wagged his head towards the king and the duke. -Well, what do you think? That muleheaded old fool wouldn't give in THEN -Indeed he wouldn't. Said it warn't no fair test. Said his brother -William was the cussedest joker in the world, and hadn't tried to write -HE see William was going to play one of his jokes the minute he put the -pen to paper. And so he warmed up and went warbling right along till he -was actuly beginning to believe what he was saying HIMSELF but pretty -soon the new gentleman broke in, and says -"I've thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay out -my brhelped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?" -"Yes," says somebody, "me and Ab Turner done it. We're both here." -Then the old man turns towards the king, and says -"Perhaps this gentleman can tell me what was tattooed on his breast?" -Blamed if the king didn't have to brace up mighty quick, or he'd a -squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took him -so sudden and, mind you, it was a thing that was calculated to make most -ANYBODY sqush to get fetched such a solid one as that without any notice, -because how was HE going to know what was tattooed on the man? He -whitened a little he couldn't help it and it was mighty still in there, -and everybody bending a little forwards and gazing at him. Says I to -myself, NOW he'll throw up the spongethere ain't no more use. Well, -did he? A body can't hardly believe it, but he didn't. I reckon he -thought he'd keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so they'd -thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. Anyway, -he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says -"Mf It's a VERY tough question, AIN'T it YES, sir, I k'n tell you -what's tattooed on his breast. It's jest a small, thin, blue arrow -that's what it is and if you don't look clost, you can't see it. NOW -what do you sayhey?" -Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean outandout -cheek. -The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and his -eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king THIS time, and says -"Thereyou've heard what he said Was there any such mark on Peter -Wilks' breast?" -Both of them spoke up and says -"We didn't see no such mark." -"Good" says the old gentleman. "Now, what you DID see on his breast was -a small dim P, and a B which is an initial he dropped when he was -young, and a W, with dashes between them, so PBW"and he marked -them that way on a piece of paper. "Come, ain't that what you saw?" -Both of them spoke up again, and says -"No, we DIDN'T. We never seen any marks at all." -Well, everybody WAS in a state of mind now, and they sings out -"The whole BILIN' of 'm 's frauds Le's duck 'em le's drown 'em le's -ride 'em on a rail" and everybody was whooping at once, and there was a -rattling powwow. But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, and -says -"GentlemengentleMEN Hear me just a wordjust a SINGLE wordif you -PLEASE There's one way yetlet's go and dig up the corpse and look." -That took them. -"Hooray" they all shouted, and was starting right off but the lawyer -and the doctor sung out -"Hold on, hold on Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch THEM -along, too" -"We'll do it" they all shouted "and if we don't find them marks we'll -lynch the whole gang" -I WAS scared, now, I tell you. But there warn't no getting away, you -know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the -graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole town -at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the -evening. -As we went by our house I wished I hadn't sent Mary Jane out of town -because now if I could tip her the wink she'd light out and save me, and -blow on our deadbeats. -Well, we swarmed along down the river road, just carrying on like -wildcats and to make it more scary the sky was darking up, and the -lightning beginning to wink and flitter, and the wind to shiver amongst -the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and most dangersome I ever -was in and I was kinder stunned everything was going so different from -what I had allowed for stead of being fixed so I could take my own time -if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to -save me and set me free when the closefit come, here was nothing in the -world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoomarks. If they -didn't find them -I couldn't bear to think about it and yet, somehow, I couldn't think -about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful -time to give the crowd the slip but that big husky had me by the wrist -Hinesand a body might as well try to give Goliar the slip. He dragged -me right along, he was so excited, and I had to run to keep up. -When they got there they swarmed into the graveyard and washed over it -like an overflow. And when they got to the grave they found they had -about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn't -thought to fetch a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the -flicker of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a -mile off, to borrow one. -So they dug and dug like everything and it got awful dark, and the rain -started, and the wind swished and swushed along, and the lightning come -brisker and brisker, and the thunder boomed but them people never took -no notice of it, they was so full of this business and one minute you -could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the shovelfuls -of dirt sailing up out of the grave, and the next second the dark wiped -it all out, and you couldn't see nothing at all. -At last they got out the coffin and begun to unscrew the lid, and then -such another crowding and shouldering and shoving as there was, to -scrouge in and get a sight, you never see and in the dark, that way, it -was awful. Hines he hurt my wrist dreadful pulling and tugging so, and I -reckon he clean forgot I was in the world, he was so excited and panting. -All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, and -somebody sings out -"By the living jingo, here's the bag of gold on his breast" -Hines let out a whoop, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and give -a big surge to bust his way in and get a look, and the way I lit out and -shinned for the road in the dark there ain't nobody can tell. -I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flewleastways, I had it all -to myself except the solid dark, and the nowandthen glares, and the -buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of -the thunder and sure as you are born I did clip it along -When I struck the town I see there warn't nobody out in the storm, so I -never hunted for no back streets, but humped it straight through the main -one and when I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and set it. -No light there the house all darkwhich made me feel sorry and -disappointed, I didn't know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, -FLASH comes the light in Mary Jane's window and my heart swelled up -sudden, like to bust and the same second the house and all was behind me -in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this world. -She WAS the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand. -The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the -towhead, I begun to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first time -the lightning showed me one that wasn't chained I snatched it and shoved. -It was a canoe, and warn't fastened with nothing but a rope. The towhead -was a rattling big distance off, away out there in the middle of the -river, but I didn't lose no time and when I struck the raft at last I -was so fagged I would a just laid down to blow and gasp if I could -afforded it. But I didn't. As I sprung aboard I sung out -"Out with you, Jim, and set her loose Glory be to goodness, we're shut -of them" -Jim lit out, and was acoming for me with both arms spread, he was so -full of joy but when I glimpsed him in the lightning my heart shot up in -my mouth and I went overboard backwards for I forgot he was old King -Lear and a drownded Arab all in one, and it most scared the livers and -lights out of me. But Jim fished me out, and was going to hug me and -bless me, and so on, he was so glad I was back and we was shut of the -king and the duke, but I says -"Not now have it for breakfast, have it for breakfast Cut loose and -let her slide" -So in two seconds away we went asliding down the river, and it DID seem -so good to be free again and all by ourselves on the big river, and -nobody to bother us. I had to skip around a bit, and jump up and crack -my heels a few timesI couldn't help it but about the third crack I -noticed a sound that I knowed mighty well, and held my breath and -listened and waited and sure enough, when the next flash busted out over -the water, here they comeand just alaying to their oars and making -their skiff hum It was the king and the duke. -So I wilted right down on to the planks then, and give up and it was all -I could do to keep from crying. -CHAPTER XXX. -WHEN they got aboard the king went for me, and shook me by the collar, -and says -"Tryin' to give us the slip, was ye, you pup Tired of our company, -hey?" -I says -"No, your majesty, we warn'tPLEASE don't, your majesty" -"Quick, then, and tell us what WAS your idea, or I'll shake the insides -out o' you" -"Honest, I'll tell you everything just as it happened, your majesty. The -man that had aholt of me was very good to me, and kept saying he had a -boy about as big as me that died last year, and he was sorry to see a boy -in such a dangerous fix and when they was all took by surprise by -finding the gold, and made a rush for the coffin, he lets go of me and -whispers, 'Heel it now, or they'll hang ye, sure' and I lit out. It -didn't seem no good for ME to stayI couldn't do nothing, and I didn't -want to be hung if I could get away. So I never stopped running till I -found the canoe and when I got here I told Jim to hurry, or they'd catch -me and hang me yet, and said I was afeard you and the duke wasn't alive -now, and I was awful sorry, and so was Jim, and was awful glad when we -see you coming you may ask Jim if I didn't." -Jim said it was so and the king told him to shut up, and said, "Oh, yes, -it's MIGHTY likely" and shook me up again, and said he reckoned he'd -drownd me. But the duke says -"Leggo the boy, you old idiot Would YOU a done any different? Did you -inquire around for HIM when you got loose? I don't remember it." -So the king let go of me, and begun to cuss that town and everybody in -it. But the duke says -"You better a blame' sight give YOURSELF a good cussing, for you're the -one that's entitled to it most. You hain't done a thing from the start -that had any sense in it, except coming out so cool and cheeky with that -imaginary bluearrow mark. That WAS brightit was right down bully and -it was the thing that saved us. For if it hadn't been for that they'd a -jailed us till them Englishmen's baggage comeand thenthe -penitentiary, you bet But that trick took 'em to the graveyard, and the -gold done us a still bigger kindness for if the excited fools hadn't let -go all holts and made that rush to get a look we'd a slept in our cravats -tonightcravats warranted to WEAR, toolonger than WE'D need 'em." -They was still a minutethinking then the king says, kind of -absentminded like -"Mf And we reckoned the NIGGERS stole it" -That made me squirm -"Yes," says the duke, kinder slow and deliberate and sarcastic, "WE did." -After about a half a minute the king drawls out -"Leastways, I did." -The duke says, the same way -"On the contrary, I did." -The king kind of ruffles up, and says -"Looky here, Bilgewater, what'r you referrin' to?" -The duke says, pretty brisk -"When it comes to that, maybe you'll let me ask, what was YOU referring -to?" -"Shucks" says the king, very sarcastic "but I don't knowmaybe you was -asleep, and didn't know what you was about." -The duke bristles up now, and says -"Oh, let UP on this cussed nonsense do you take me for a blame' fool? -Don't you reckon I know who hid that money in that coffin?" -"YES, sir I know you DO know, because you done it yourself" -"It's a lie"and the duke went for him. The king sings out -"Take y'r hands offleggo my throatI take it all back" -The duke says -"Well, you just own up, first, that you DID hide that money there, -intending to give me the slip one of these days, and come back and dig it -up, and have it all to yourself." -"Wait jest a minute, dukeanswer me this one question, honest and fair -if you didn't put the money there, say it, and I'll b'lieve you, and take -back everything I said." -"You old scoundrel, I didn't, and you know I didn't. There, now" -"Well, then, I b'lieve you. But answer me only jest this one morenow -DON'T git mad didn't you have it in your mind to hook the money and hide -it?" -The duke never said nothing for a little bit then he says -"Well, I don't care if I DID, I didn't DO it, anyway. But you not only -had it in mind to do it, but you DONE it." -"I wisht I never die if I done it, duke, and that's honest. I won't say -I warn't goin' to do it, because I WAS but youI mean somebodygot in -ahead o' me." -"It's a lie You done it, and you got to SAY you done it, or" -The king began to gurgle, and then he gasps out -"'NoughI OWN UP" -I was very glad to hear him say that it made me feel much more easier -than what I was feeling before. So the duke took his hands off and says -"If you ever deny it again I'll drown you. It's WELL for you to set -there and blubber like a babyit's fitten for you, after the way you've -acted. I never see such an old ostrich for wanting to gobble everything -and I atrusting you all the time, like you was my own father. You ought -to been ashamed of yourself to stand by and hear it saddled on to a lot -of poor niggers, and you never say a word for 'em. It makes me feel -ridiculous to think I was soft enough to BELIEVE that rubbage. Cuss you, -I can see now why you was so anxious to make up the deffisityou wanted -to get what money I'd got out of the Nonesuch and one thing or another, -and scoop it ALL" -The king says, timid, and still asnuffling -"Why, duke, it was you that said make up the deffisit it warn't me." -"Dry up I don't want to hear no more out of you" says the duke. "And -NOW you see what you GOT by it. They've got all their own money back, -and all of OURN but a shekel or two BESIDES. G'long to bed, and don't -you deffersit ME no more deffersits, long 's YOU live" -So the king sneaked into the wigwam and took to his bottle for comfort, -and before long the duke tackled HIS bottle and so in about a half an -hour they was as thick as thieves again, and the tighter they got the -lovinger they got, and went off asnoring in each other's arms. They -both got powerful mellow, but I noticed the king didn't get mellow enough -to forget to remember to not deny about hiding the moneybag again. That -made me feel easy and satisfied. Of course when they got to snoring we -had a long gabble, and I told Jim everything. -CHAPTER XXXI. -WE dasn't stop again at any town for days and days kept right along down -the river. We was down south in the warm weather now, and a mighty long -ways from home. We begun to come to trees with Spanish moss on them, -hanging down from the limbs like long, gray beards. It was the first I -ever see it growing, and it made the woods look solemn and dismal. So -now the frauds reckoned they was out of danger, and they begun to work -the villages again. -First they done a lecture on temperance but they didn't make enough for -them both to get drunk on. Then in another village they started a -dancingschool but they didn't know no more how to dance than a kangaroo -does so the first prance they made the general public jumped in and -pranced them out of town. Another time they tried to go at yellocution -but they didn't yellocute long till the audience got up and give them a -solid good cussing, and made them skip out. They tackled missionarying, -and mesmerizing, and doctoring, and telling fortunes, and a little of -everything but they couldn't seem to have no luck. So at last they got -just about dead broke, and laid around the raft as she floated along, -thinking and thinking, and never saying nothing, by the half a day at a -time, and dreadful blue and desperate. -And at last they took a change and begun to lay their heads together in -the wigwam and talk low and confidential two or three hours at a time. -Jim and me got uneasy. We didn't like the look of it. We judged they -was studying up some kind of worse deviltry than ever. We turned it over -and over, and at last we made up our minds they was going to break into -somebody's house or store, or was going into the counterfeitmoney -business, or something. So then we was pretty scared, and made up an -agreement that we wouldn't have nothing in the world to do with such -actions, and if we ever got the least show we would give them the cold -shake and clear out and leave them behind. Well, early one morning we hid -the raft in a good, safe place about two mile below a little bit of a -shabby village named Pikesville, and the king he went ashore and told us -all to stay hid whilst he went up to town and smelt around to see if -anybody had got any wind of the Royal Nonesuch there yet. "House to rob, -you MEAN," says I to myself "and when you get through robbing it you'll -come back here and wonder what has become of me and Jim and the raftand -you'll have to take it out in wondering." And he said if he warn't back -by midday the duke and me would know it was all right, and we was to come -along. -So we stayed where we was. The duke he fretted and sweated around, and -was in a mighty sour way. He scolded us for everything, and we couldn't -seem to do nothing right he found fault with every little thing. -Something was abrewing, sure. I was good and glad when midday come and -no king we could have a change, anywayand maybe a chance for THE -chance on top of it. So me and the duke went up to the village, and -hunted around there for the king, and by and by we found him in the back -room of a little low doggery, very tight, and a lot of loafers -bullyragging him for sport, and he acussing and athreatening with all -his might, and so tight he couldn't walk, and couldn't do nothing to -them. The duke he begun to abuse him for an old fool, and the king begun -to sass back, and the minute they was fairly at it I lit out and shook -the reefs out of my hind legs, and spun down the river road like a deer, -for I see our chance and I made up my mind that it would be a long day -before they ever see me and Jim again. I got down there all out of -breath but loaded up with joy, and sung out -"Set her loose, Jim we're all right now" -But there warn't no answer, and nobody come out of the wigwam. Jim was -gone I set up a shoutand then anotherand then another one and run -this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching but it warn't no -useold Jim was gone. Then I set down and cried I couldn't help it. -But I couldn't set still long. Pretty soon I went out on the road, -trying to think what I better do, and I run across a boy walking, and -asked him if he'd seen a strange nigger dressed so and so, and he says -"Yes." -"Whereabouts?" says I. -"Down to Silas Phelps' place, two mile below here. He's a runaway -nigger, and they've got him. Was you looking for him?" -"You bet I ain't I run across him in the woods about an hour or two -ago, and he said if I hollered he'd cut my livers outand told me to lay -down and stay where I was and I done it. Been there ever since afeard -to come out." -"Well," he says, "you needn't be afeard no more, becuz they've got him. -He run off f'm down South, som'ers." -"It's a good job they got him." -"Well, I RECKON There's two hunderd dollars reward on him. It's like -picking up money out'n the road." -"Yes, it isand I could a had it if I'd been big enough I see him -FIRST. Who nailed him?" -"It was an old fellowa strangerand he sold out his chance in him for -forty dollars, becuz he's got to go up the river and can't wait. Think -o' that, now You bet I'D wait, if it was seven year." -"That's me, every time," says I. "But maybe his chance ain't worth no -more than that, if he'll sell it so cheap. Maybe there's something ain't -straight about it." -"But it IS, thoughstraight as a string. I see the handbill myself. It -tells all about him, to a dotpaints him like a picture, and tells the -plantation he's frum, below NewrLEANS. NosirreeBOB, they ain't no -trouble 'bout THAT speculation, you bet you. Say, gimme a chaw tobacker, -won't ye?" -I didn't have none, so he left. I went to the raft, and set down in the -wigwam to think. But I couldn't come to nothing. I thought till I wore -my head sore, but I couldn't see no way out of the trouble. After all -this long journey, and after all we'd done for them scoundrels, here it -was all come to nothing, everything all busted up and ruined, because -they could have the heart to serve Jim such a trick as that, and make him -a slave again all his life, and amongst strangers, too, for forty dirty -dollars. -Once I said to myself it would be a thousand times better for Jim to be a -slave at home where his family was, as long as he'd GOT to be a slave, -and so I'd better write a letter to Tom Sawyer and tell him to tell Miss -Watson where he was. But I soon give up that notion for two things -she'd be mad and disgusted at his rascality and ungratefulness for -leaving her, and so she'd sell him straight down the river again and if -she didn't, everybody naturally despises an ungrateful nigger, and they'd -make Jim feel it all the time, and so he'd feel ornery and disgraced. -And then think of ME It would get all around that Huck Finn helped a -nigger to get his freedom and if I was ever to see anybody from that -town again I'd be ready to get down and lick his boots for shame. That's -just the way a person does a lowdown thing, and then he don't want to -take no consequences of it. Thinks as long as he can hide, it ain't no -disgrace. That was my fix exactly. The more I studied about this the -more my conscience went to grinding me, and the more wicked and lowdown -and ornery I got to feeling. And at last, when it hit me all of a sudden -that here was the plain hand of Providence slapping me in the face and -letting me know my wickedness was being watched all the time from up -there in heaven, whilst I was stealing a poor old woman's nigger that -hadn't ever done me no harm, and now was showing me there's One that's -always on the lookout, and ain't agoing to allow no such miserable -doings to go only just so fur and no further, I most dropped in my tracks -I was so scared. Well, I tried the best I could to kinder soften it up -somehow for myself by saying I was brung up wicked, and so I warn't so -much to blame but something inside of me kept saying, "There was the -Sundayschool, you could a gone to it and if you'd a done it they'd a -learnt you there that people that acts as I'd been acting about that -nigger goes to everlasting fire." -It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I -couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I -kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It -warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I -knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't -right it was because I warn't square it was because I was playing -double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was -holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY -I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that -nigger's owner and tell where he was but deep down in me I knowed it was -a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lieI found that out. -So I was full of trouble, full as I could be and didn't know what to do. -At last I had an idea and I says, I'll go and write the letterand then -see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a -feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece -of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote -Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below -Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the -reward if you send. -HUCK FINN. -I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever -felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it -straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinkingthinking -how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost -and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our -trip down the river and I see Jim before me all the time in the day -and in the nighttime, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we -afloating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I -couldn't seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the -other kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, 'stead of -calling me, so I could go on sleeping and see him how glad he was when I -come back out of the fog and when I come to him again in the swamp, up -there where the feud was and suchlike times and would always call me -honey, and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how -good he always was and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling -the men we had smallpox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was -the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the ONLY one he's got -now and then I happened to look around and see that paper. -It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was -atrembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and -I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then -says to myself -"All right, then, I'll GO to hell"and tore it up. -It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let them -stay said and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the whole -thing out of my head, and said I would take up wickedness again, which -was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And for a -starter I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again and if I -could think up anything worse, I would do that, too because as long as I -was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog. -Then I set to thinking over how to get at it, and turned over some -considerable many ways in my mind and at last fixed up a plan that -suited me. So then I took the bearings of a woody island that was down -the river a piece, and as soon as it was fairly dark I crept out with my -raft and went for it, and hid it there, and then turned in. I slept the -night through, and got up before it was light, and had my breakfast, and -put on my store clothes, and tied up some others and one thing or another -in a bundle, and took the canoe and cleared for shore. I landed below -where I judged was Phelps's place, and hid my bundle in the woods, and -then filled up the canoe with water, and loaded rocks into her and sunk -her where I could find her again when I wanted her, about a quarter of a -mile below a little steam sawmill that was on the bank. -Then I struck up the road, and when I passed the mill I see a sign on it, -"Phelps's Sawmill," and when I come to the farmhouses, two or three -hundred yards further along, I kept my eyes peeled, but didn't see nobody -around, though it was good daylight now. But I didn't mind, because I -didn't want to see nobody just yetI only wanted to get the lay of the -land. According to my plan, I was going to turn up there from the -village, not from below. So I just took a look, and shoved along, -straight for town. Well, the very first man I see when I got there was -the duke. He was sticking up a bill for the Royal Nonesuchthreenight -performancelike that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds I -was right on him before I could shirk. He looked astonished, and says -"HelLO Where'd YOU come from?" Then he says, kind of glad and eager, -"Where's the raft?got her in a good place?" -I says -"Why, that's just what I was going to ask your grace." -Then he didn't look so joyful, and says -"What was your idea for asking ME?" he says. -"Well," I says, "when I see the king in that doggery yesterday I says to -myself, we can't get him home for hours, till he's soberer so I went -aloafing around town to put in the time and wait. A man up and offered -me ten cents to help him pull a skiff over the river and back to fetch a -sheep, and so I went along but when we was dragging him to the boat, and -the man left me aholt of the rope and went behind him to shove him -along, he was too strong for me and jerked loose and run, and we after -him. We didn't have no dog, and so we had to chase him all over the -country till we tired him out. We never got him till dark then we -fetched him over, and I started down for the raft. When I got there and -see it was gone, I says to myself, 'They've got into trouble and had to -leave and they've took my nigger, which is the only nigger I've got in -the world, and now I'm in a strange country, and ain't got no property no -more, nor nothing, and no way to make my living' so I set down and -cried. I slept in the woods all night. But what DID become of the raft, -then?and Jimpoor Jim" -"Blamed if I knowthat is, what's become of the raft. That old fool had -made a trade and got forty dollars, and when we found him in the doggery -the loafers had matched halfdollars with him and got every cent but what -he'd spent for whisky and when I got him home late last night and found -the raft gone, we said, 'That little rascal has stole our raft and shook -us, and run off down the river.'" -"I wouldn't shake my NIGGER, would I?the only nigger I had in the -world, and the only property." -"We never thought of that. Fact is, I reckon we'd come to consider him -OUR nigger yes, we did consider him sogoodness knows we had trouble -enough for him. So when we see the raft was gone and we flat broke, -there warn't anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch another shake. -And I've pegged along ever since, dry as a powderhorn. Where's that ten -cents? Give it here." -I had considerable money, so I give him ten cents, but begged him to -spend it for something to eat, and give me some, because it was all the -money I had, and I hadn't had nothing to eat since yesterday. He never -said nothing. The next minute he whirls on me and says -"Do you reckon that nigger would blow on us? We'd skin him if he done -that" -"How can he blow? Hain't he run off?" -"No That old fool sold him, and never divided with me, and the money's -gone." -"SOLD him?" I says, and begun to cry "why, he was MY nigger, and that -was my money. Where is he?I want my nigger." -"Well, you can't GET your nigger, that's allso dry up your blubbering. -Looky heredo you think YOU'D venture to blow on us? Blamed if I think -I'd trust you. Why, if you WAS to blow on us" -He stopped, but I never see the duke look so ugly out of his eyes before. -I went on awhimpering, and says -"I don't want to blow on nobody and I ain't got no time to blow, nohow. -I got to turn out and find my nigger." -He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on -his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead. At last he says -"I'll tell you something. We got to be here three days. If you'll -promise you won't blow, and won't let the nigger blow, I'll tell you -where to find him." -So I promised, and he says -"A farmer by the name of Silas Ph" and then he stopped. You see, he -started to tell me the truth but when he stopped that way, and begun to -study and think again, I reckoned he was changing his mind. And so he -was. He wouldn't trust me he wanted to make sure of having me out of the -way the whole three days. So pretty soon he says -"The man that bought him is named Abram FosterAbram G. Fosterand he -lives forty mile back here in the country, on the road to Lafayette." -"All right," I says, "I can walk it in three days. And I'll start this -very afternoon." -"No you wont, you'll start NOW and don't you lose any time about it, -neither, nor do any gabbling by the way. Just keep a tight tongue in -your head and move right along, and then you won't get into trouble with -US, d'ye hear?" -That was the order I wanted, and that was the one I played for. I wanted -to be left free to work my plans. -"So clear out," he says "and you can tell Mr. Foster whatever you want -to. Maybe you can get him to believe that Jim IS your niggersome idiots -don't require documentsleastways I've heard there's such down South -here. And when you tell him the handbill and the reward's bogus, maybe -he'll believe you when you explain to him what the idea was for getting -'em out. Go 'long now, and tell him anything you want to but mind you -don't work your jaw any BETWEEN here and there." -So I left, and struck for the back country. I didn't look around, but I -kinder felt like he was watching me. But I knowed I could tire him out -at that. I went straight out in the country as much as a mile before I -stopped then I doubled back through the woods towards Phelps'. I -reckoned I better start in on my plan straight off without fooling -around, because I wanted to stop Jim's mouth till these fellows could get -away. I didn't want no trouble with their kind. I'd seen all I wanted -to of them, and wanted to get entirely shut of them. -CHAPTER XXXII. -WHEN I got there it was all still and Sundaylike, and hot and sunshiny -the hands was gone to the fields and there was them kind of faint -dronings of bugs and flies in the air that makes it seem so lonesome and -like everybody's dead and gone and if a breeze fans along and quivers -the leaves it makes you feel mournful, because you feel like it's spirits -whisperingspirits that's been dead ever so many yearsand you always -think they're talking about YOU. As a general thing it makes a body wish -HE was dead, too, and done with it all. -Phelps' was one of these little onehorse cotton plantations, and they -all look alike. A rail fence round a twoacre yard a stile made out of -logs sawed off and upended in steps, like barrels of a different length, -to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on when they are -going to jump on to a horse some sickly grasspatches in the big yard, -but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the nap rubbed -off big double loghouse for the white folkshewed logs, with the -chinks stopped up with mud or mortar, and these mudstripes been -whitewashed some time or another roundlog kitchen, with a big broad, -open but roofed passage joining it to the house log smokehouse back of -the kitchen three little log niggercabins in a row t'other side the -smokehouse one little hut all by itself away down against the back -fence, and some outbuildings down a piece the other side ashhopper and -big kettle to bile soap in by the little hut bench by the kitchen door, -with bucket of water and a gourd hound asleep there in the sun more -hounds asleep round about about three shade trees away off in a corner -some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place by the fence -outside of the fence a garden and a watermelon patch then the cotton -fields begins, and after the fields the woods. -I went around and clumb over the back stile by the ashhopper, and -started for the kitchen. When I got a little ways I heard the dim hum of -a spinningwheel wailing along up and sinking along down again and then -I knowed for certain I wished I was deadfor that IS the lonesomest -sound in the whole world. -I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting -to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come for -I'd noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth if -I left it alone. -When I got halfway, first one hound and then another got up and went for -me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still. And such -another powwow as they made In a quarter of a minute I was a kind of a -hub of a wheel, as you may sayspokes made out of dogscircle of -fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses -stretched up towards me, abarking and howling and more acoming you -could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres. -A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rollingpin in her -hand, singing out, "Begone YOU Tige you Spot begone sah" and she -fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, -and then the rest followed and the next second half of them come back, -wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me. There ain't -no harm in a hound, nohow. -And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger -boys without anything on but towlinen shirts, and they hung on to their -mother's gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way -they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, -about fortyfive or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinningstick in -her hand and behind her comes her little white children, acting the same -way the little niggers was going. She was smiling all over so she could -hardly standand says -"It's YOU, at lastAIN'T it?" -I out with a "Yes'm" before I thought. -She grabbed me and hugged me tight and then gripped me by both hands and -shook and shook and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over and -she couldn't seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, "You don't -look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would but law sakes, I -don't care for that, I'm so glad to see you Dear, dear, it does seem -like I could eat you up Children, it's your cousin Tomtell him -howdy." -But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and -hid behind her. So she run on -"Lize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right awayor did you get -your breakfast on the boat?" -I said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, -leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got -there she set me down in a splitbottomed chair, and set herself down on -a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says -"Now I can have a GOOD look at you and, lawsame, I've been hungry for -it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it's come at last -We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep' you?boat -get aground?" -"Yes'mshe" -"Don't say yes'msay Aunt Sally. Where'd she get aground?" -I didn't rightly know what to say, because I didn't know whether the boat -would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on instinct -and my instinct said she would be coming upfrom down towards Orleans. -That didn't help me much, though for I didn't know the names of bars -down that way. I see I'd got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the -one we got aground onorNow I struck an idea, and fetched it out -"It warn't the groundingthat didn't keep us back but a little. We -blowed out a cylinderhead." -"Good gracious anybody hurt?" -"No'm. Killed a nigger." -"Well, it's lucky because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago -last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old -Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinderhead and crippled a man. And I -think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a -family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember -now, he DID die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. -But it didn't save him. Yes, it was mortificationthat was it. He -turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious resurrection. -They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle's been up to the town -every day to fetch you. And he's gone again, not more'n an hour ago -he'll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, didn't -you?oldish man, with a" -"No, I didn't see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, -and I left my baggage on the wharfboat and went looking around the town -and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too -soon and so I come down the back way." -"Who'd you give the baggage to?" -"Nobody." -"Why, child, it 'll be stole" -"Not where I hid it I reckon it won't," I says. -"How'd you get your breakfast so early on the boat?" -It was kinder thin ice, but I says -"The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something -to eat before I went ashore so he took me in the texas to the officers' -lunch, and give me all I wanted." -I was getting so uneasy I couldn't listen good. I had my mind on the -children all the time I wanted to get them out to one side and pump them -a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn't get no show, Mrs. -Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills -streak all down my back, because she says -"But here we're arunning on this way, and you hain't told me a word -about Sis, nor any of them. Now I'll rest my works a little, and you -start up yourn just tell me EVERYTHINGtell me all about 'm all every -one of 'm and how they are, and what they're doing, and what they told -you to tell me and every last thing you can think of." -Well, I see I was up a stumpand up it good. Providence had stood by me -this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it -warn't a bit of use to try to go aheadI'd got to throw up my hand. So -I says to myself, here's another place where I got to resk the truth. I -opened my mouth to begin but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind the -bed, and says -"Here he comes Stick your head down lowerthere, that'll do you can't -be seen now. Don't you let on you're here. I'll play a joke on him. -Children, don't you say a word." -I see I was in a fix now. But it warn't no use to worry there warn't -nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from -under when the lightning struck. -I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in then -the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says -"Has he come?" -"No," says her husband. -"GoodNESS gracious" she says, "what in the warld can have become of -him?" -"I can't imagine," says the old gentleman "and I must say it makes me -dreadful uneasy." -"Uneasy" she says "I'm ready to go distracted He MUST a come and -you've missed him along the road. I KNOW it's sosomething tells me -so." -"Why, Sally, I COULDN'T miss him along the roadYOU know that." -"But oh, dear, dear, what WILL Sis say He must a come You must a -missed him. He" -"Oh, don't distress me any more'n I'm already distressed. I don't know -what in the world to make of it. I'm at my wit's end, and I don't mind -acknowledging 't I'm right down scared. But there's no hope that he's -come for he COULDN'T come and me miss him. Sally, it's terriblejust -terriblesomething's happened to the boat, sure" -"Why, Silas Look yonderup the roadain't that somebody coming?" -He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. Phelps -the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the bed and -give me a pull, and out I come and when he turned back from the window -there she stood, abeaming and asmiling like a house afire, and I -standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, and -says -"Why, who's that?" -"Who do you reckon 't is?" -"I hain't no idea. Who IS it?" -"It's TOM SAWYER" -By jings, I most slumped through the floor But there warn't no time to -swap knives the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on -shaking and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and -cry and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, -and the rest of the tribe. -But if they was joyful, it warn't nothing to what I was for it was like -being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze -to me for two hours and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn't -hardly go any more, I had told them more about my familyI mean the -Sawyer familythan ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I -explained all about how we blowed out a cylinderhead at the mouth of -White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, -and worked firstrate because THEY didn't know but what it would take -three days to fix it. If I'd a called it a bolthead it would a done just -as well. -Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty -uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and -comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by and by I hear a -steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s'pose -Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s'pose he steps in here any -minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep -quiet? -Well, I couldn't HAVE it that way it wouldn't do at all. I must go up -the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go up to -the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for going -along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and I -druther he wouldn't take no trouble about me. -CHAPTER XXXIII. -SO I started for town in the wagon, and when I was halfway I see a wagon -coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and waited till -he come along. I says "Hold on" and it stopped alongside, and his mouth -opened up like a trunk, and stayed so and he swallowed two or three -times like a person that's got a dry throat, and then says -"I hain't ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you want -to come back and ha'nt ME for?" -I says -"I hain't come backI hain't been GONE." -When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn't quite -satisfied yet. He says -"Don't you play nothing on me, because I wouldn't on you. Honest injun, -you ain't a ghost?" -"Honest injun, I ain't," I says. -"WellIIwell, that ought to settle it, of course but I can't -somehow seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn't you ever -murdered AT ALL?" -"No. I warn't ever murdered at allI played it on them. You come in -here and feel of me if you don't believe me." -So he done it and it satisfied him and he was that glad to see me again -he didn't know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it right off, -because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it hit him where -he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by and by and told his driver -to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told him the kind of a -fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He said, let him -alone a minute, and don't disturb him. So he thought and thought, and -pretty soon he says -"It's all right I've got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on -it's your'n and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the -house about the time you ought to and I'll go towards town a piece, and -take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you -and you needn't let on to know me at first." -I says -"All right but wait a minute. There's one more thinga thing that -NOBODY don't know but me. And that is, there's a nigger here that I'm -atrying to steal out of slavery, and his name is JIMold Miss Watson's -Jim." -He says -"What Why, Jim is" -He stopped and went to studying. I says -"I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, lowdown business but -what if it is? I'm low down and I'm agoing to steal him, and I want -you keep mum and not let on. Will you?" -His eye lit up, and he says -"I'll HELP you steal him" -Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most -astonishing speech I ever heardand I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fell -considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer a -NIGGERSTEALER -"Oh, shucks" I says "you're joking." -"I ain't joking, either." -"Well, then," I says, "joking or no joking, if you hear anything said -about a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that YOU don't know -nothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him." -Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his way -and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on -accounts of being glad and full of thinking so I got home a heap too -quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and -he says -"Why, this is wonderful Whoever would a thought it was in that mare to -do it? I wish we'd a timed her. And she hain't sweated a hairnot a -hair. It's wonderful. Why, I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for that -horse nowI wouldn't, honest and yet I'd a sold her for fifteen -before, and thought 'twas all she was worth." -That's all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. -But it warn't surprising because he warn't only just a farmer, he was a -preacher, too, and had a little onehorse log church down back of the -plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church -and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was -worth it, too. There was plenty other farmerpreachers like that, and -done the same way, down South. -In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt -Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty -yards, and says -"Why, there's somebody come I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it's -a stranger. Jimmy" that's one of the children "run and tell Lize to -put on another plate for dinner." -Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger -don't come EVERY year, and so he lays over the yallerfever, for -interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for the -house the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we was all -bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an -audienceand that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances -it warn't no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was -suitable. He warn't a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep no, -he come ca'm and important, like the ram. When he got afront of us he -lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box -that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn't want to disturb them, and -says -"Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?" -"No, my boy," says the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to say 't your driver -has deceived you Nichols's place is down a matter of three mile more. -Come in, come in." -Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, "Too latehe's out -of sight." -"Yes, he's gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with -us and then we'll hitch up and take you down to Nichols's." -"Oh, I CAN'T make you so much trouble I couldn't think of it. I'll walk -I don't mind the distance." -"But we won't LET you walkit wouldn't be Southern hospitality to do it. -Come right in." -"Oh, DO," says Aunt Sally "it ain't a bit of trouble to us, not a bit in -the world. You must stay. It's a long, dusty three mile, and we can't -let you walk. And, besides, I've already told 'em to put on another -plate when I see you coming so you mustn't disappoint us. Come right in -and make yourself at home." -So Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be -persuaded, and come in and when he was in he said he was a stranger from -Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompsonand he made another -bow. -Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and -everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and -wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape and at last, -still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the -mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was -going on talking but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of her -hand, and says -"You owdacious puppy" -He looked kind of hurt, and says -"I'm surprised at you, m'am." -"You're s'rpWhy, what do you reckon I am? I've a good notion to take -andSay, what do you mean by kissing me?" -He looked kind of humble, and says -"I didn't mean nothing, m'am. I didn't mean no harm. IIthought -you'd like it." -"Why, you born fool" She took up the spinning stick, and it looked like -it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. "What -made you think I'd like it?" -"Well, I don't know. Only, theytheytold me you would." -"THEY told you I would. Whoever told you's ANOTHER lunatic. I never -heard the beat of it. Who's THEY?" -"Why, everybody. They all said so, m'am." -It was all she could do to hold in and her eyes snapped, and her fingers -worked like she wanted to scratch him and she says -"Who's 'everybody'? Out with their names, or ther'll be an idiot short." -He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says -"I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it. They told me to. They all told -me to. They all said, kiss her and said she'd like it. They all said -itevery one of them. But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more -I won't, honest." -"You won't, won't you? Well, I sh'd RECKON you won't" -"No'm, I'm honest about it I won't ever do it againtill you ask me." -"Till I ASK you Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days I -lay you'll be the Methusalemnumskull of creation before ever I ask you -or the likes of you." -"Well," he says, "it does surprise me so. I can't make it out, somehow. -They said you would, and I thought you would. But" He stopped and -looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye -somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, "Didn't YOU -think she'd like me to kiss her, sir?" -"Why, no IIwell, no, I b'lieve I didn't." -Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says -"Tom, didn't YOU think Aunt Sally 'd open out her arms and say, 'Sid -Sawyer'" -"My land" she says, breaking in and jumping for him, "you impudent young -rascal, to fool a body so" and was going to hug him, but he fended her -off, and says -"No, not till you've asked me first." -So she didn't lose no time, but asked him and hugged him and kissed him -over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he took -what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says -"Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn't looking for YOU at -all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but him." -"It's because it warn't INTENDED for any of us to come but Tom," he says -"but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me come, too -so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a firstrate -surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me to by and by -tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it was a -mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain't no healthy place for a stranger to -come." -"Nonot impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed I -hain't been so put out since I don't know when. But I don't care, I -don't mind the termsI'd be willing to stand a thousand such jokes to -have you here. Well, to think of that performance I don't deny it, I -was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack." -We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and the -kitchen and there was things enough on that table for seven families -and all hot, too none of your flabby, tough meat that's laid in a -cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of old cold -cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long blessing -over it, but it was worth it and it didn't cool it a bit, neither, the -way I've seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. There was a -considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me and Tom was on -the lookout all the time but it warn't no use, they didn't happen to say -nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid to try to work up to -it. But at supper, at night, one of the little boys says -"Pa, mayn't Tom and Sid and me go to the show?" -"No," says the old man, "I reckon there ain't going to be any and you -couldn't go if there was because the runaway nigger told Burton and me -all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the people -so I reckon they've drove the owdacious loafers out of town before this -time." -So there it wasbut I couldn't help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the -same room and bed so, being tired, we bid goodnight and went up to bed -right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the -lightningrod, and shoved for the town for I didn't believe anybody was -going to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn't hurry up -and give them one they'd get into trouble sure. -On the road Tom he told me all about how it was reckoned I was murdered, -and how pap disappeared pretty soon, and didn't come back no more, and -what a stir there was when Jim run away and I told Tom all about our -Royal Nonesuch rapscallions, and as much of the raft voyage as I had time -to and as we struck into the town and up through thehere comes a -raging rush of people with torches, and an awful whooping and yelling, -and banging tin pans and blowing horns and we jumped to one side to let -them go by and as they went by I see they had the king and the duke -astraddle of a railthat is, I knowed it WAS the king and the duke, -though they was all over tar and feathers, and didn't look like nothing -in the world that was humanjust looked like a couple of monstrous big -soldierplumes. Well, it made me sick to see it and I was sorry for -them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel any -hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to -see. Human beings CAN be awful cruel to one another. -We see we was too latecouldn't do no good. We asked some stragglers -about it, and they said everybody went to the show looking very innocent -and laid low and kept dark till the poor old king was in the middle of -his cavortings on the stage then somebody give a signal, and the house -rose up and went for them. -So we poked along back home, and I warn't feeling so brash as I was -before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehowthough I -hadn't done nothing. But that's always the way it don't make no -difference whether you do right or wrong, a person's conscience ain't got -no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that -didn't know no more than a person's conscience does I would pison him. -It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yet -ain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same. -CHAPTER XXXIV. -WE stopped talking, and got to thinking. By and by Tom says -"Looky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before I bet I -know where Jim is." -"No Where?" -"In that hut down by the ashhopper. Why, looky here. When we was at -dinner, didn't you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?" -"Yes." -"What did you think the vittles was for?" -"For a dog." -"So 'd I. Well, it wasn't for a dog." -"Why?" -"Because part of it was watermelon." -"So it wasI noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought -about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and don't -see at the same time." -"Well, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it -again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up -from tablesame key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner -and it ain't likely there's two prisoners on such a little plantation, -and where the people's all so kind and good. Jim's the prisoner. All -rightI'm glad we found it out detective fashion I wouldn't give -shucks for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan -to steal Jim, and I will study out one, too and we'll take the one we -like the best." -What a head for just a boy to have If I had Tom Sawyer's head I -wouldn't trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown in -a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, but -only just to be doing something I knowed very well where the right plan -was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says -"Ready?" -"Yes," I says. -"All rightbring it out." -"My plan is this," I says. "We can easy find out if it's Jim in there. -Then get up my canoe tomorrow night, and fetch my raft over from the -island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the -old man's britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river on -the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and Jim -used to do before. Wouldn't that plan work?" -"WORK? Why, cert'nly it would work, like rats afighting. But it's too -blame' simple there ain't nothing TO it. What's the good of a plan that -ain't no more trouble than that? It's as mild as goosemilk. Why, Huck, -it wouldn't make no more talk than breaking into a soap factory." -I never said nothing, because I warn't expecting nothing different but I -knowed mighty well that whenever he got HIS plan ready it wouldn't have -none of them objections to it. -And it didn't. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was -worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man as -mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, and -said we would waltz in on it. I needn't tell what it was here, because I -knowed it wouldn't stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be changing -it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new -bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done. -Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in -earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. -That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was -respectable and well brung up and had a character to lose and folks at -home that had characters and he was bright and not leatherheaded and -knowing and not ignorant and not mean, but kind and yet here he was, -without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to this -business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, before -everybody. I COULDN'T understand it no way at all. It was outrageous, -and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so and so be his true -friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save himself. -And I DID start to tell him but he shut me up, and says -"Don't you reckon I know what I'm about? Don't I generly know what I'm -about?" -"Yes." -"Didn't I SAY I was going to help steal the nigger?" -"Yes." -"WELL, then." -That's all he said, and that's all I said. It warn't no use to say any -more because when he said he'd do a thing, he always done it. But I -couldn't make out how he was willing to go into this thing so I just let -it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have it -so, I couldn't help it. -When we got home the house was all dark and still so we went on down to -the hut by the ashhopper for to examine it. We went through the yard so -as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn't make no -more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by in -the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and the -two sides and on the side I warn't acquainted withwhich was the north -sidewe found a square windowhole, up tolerable high, with just one -stout board nailed across it. I says -"Here's the ticket. This hole's big enough for Jim to get through if we -wrench off the board." -Tom says -"It's as simple as tittattoe, threeinarow, and as easy as playing -hooky. I should HOPE we can find a way that's a little more complicated -than THAT, Huck Finn." -"Well, then," I says, "how 'll it do to saw him out, the way I done -before I was murdered that time?" -"That's more LIKE," he says. "It's real mysterious, and troublesome, and -good," he says "but I bet we can find a way that's twice as long. There -ain't no hurry le's keep on looking around." -Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a leanto that -joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long -as the hut, but narrowonly about six foot wide. The door to it was at -the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soapkettle and -searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with -so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, -and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, and -see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn't no connection with -it and there warn't no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but some old -rusty playedout hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. The -match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and the -door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says -"Now we're all right. We'll DIG him out. It 'll take about a week" -Then we started for the house, and I went in the back dooryou only have -to pull a buckskin latchstring, they don't fasten the doorsbut that -warn't romantical enough for Tom Sawyer no way would do him but he must -climb up the lightningrod. But after he got up half way about three -times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most busted -his brains out, he thought he'd got to give it up but after he was -rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this time -he made the trip. -In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins -to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jimif it WAS -Jim that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through breakfast -and starting for the fields and Jim's nigger was piling up a tin pan -with bread and meat and things and whilst the others was leaving, the -key come from the house. -This nigger had a goodnatured, chuckleheaded face, and his wool was all -tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches off. He -said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and making him see -all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of strange words and -noises, and he didn't believe he was ever witched so long before in his -life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so about his troubles, -he forgot all about what he'd been agoing to do. So Tom says -"What's the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?" -The nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you -heave a brickbat in a mudpuddle, and he says -"Yes, Mars Sid, A dog. Cur'us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at -'im?" -"Yes." -I hunched Tom, and whispers -"You going, right here in the daybreak? THAT warn't the plan." -"No, it warn't but it's the plan NOW." -So, drat him, we went along, but I didn't like it much. When we got in -we couldn't hardly see anything, it was so dark but Jim was there, sure -enough, and could see us and he sings out -"Why, HUCK En good LAN' ain' dat Misto Tom?" -I just knowed how it would be I just expected it. I didn't know nothing -to do and if I had I couldn't a done it, because that nigger busted in -and says -"Why, de gracious sakes do he know you genlmen?" -We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and -kind of wondering, and says -"Does WHO know us?" -"Why, disyer runaway nigger." -"I don't reckon he does but what put that into your head?" -"What PUT it dar? Didn' he jis' dis minute sing out like he knowed you?" -Tom says, in a puzzledup kind of way -"Well, that's mighty curious. WHO sung out? WHEN did he sing out? WHAT -did he sing out?" And turns to me, perfectly ca'm, and says, "Did YOU -hear anybody sing out?" -Of course there warn't nothing to be said but the one thing so I says -"No I ain't heard nobody say nothing." -Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, -and says -"Did you sing out?" -"No, sah," says Jim "I hain't said nothing, sah." -"Not a word?" -"No, sah, I hain't said a word." -"Did you ever see us before?" -"No, sah not as I knows on." -So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and -says, kind of severe -"What do you reckon's the matter with you, anyway? What made you think -somebody sung out?" -"Oh, it's de dadblame' witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. Dey's -awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos' kill me, dey sk'yers me so. Please to -don't tell nobody 'bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he'll scole me 'kase -he say dey AIN'T no witches. I jis' wish to goodness he was heah now -DEN what would he say I jis' bet he couldn' fine no way to git aroun' -it DIS time. But it's awluz jis' so people dat's SOT, stays sot dey -won't look into noth'n'en fine it out f'r deyselves, en when YOU fine it -out en tell um 'bout it, dey doan' b'lieve you." -Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn't tell nobody and told him to -buy some more thread to tie up his wool with and then looks at Jim, and -says -"I wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to catch -a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn't give him up, -I'd hang him." And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to look at the -dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim and says -"Don't ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on -nights, it's us we're going to set you free." -Jim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it then the nigger -come back, and we said we'd come again some time if the nigger wanted us -to and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the -witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks -around then. -CHAPTER XXXV. -IT would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down -into the woods because Tom said we got to have SOME light to see how to -dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble what -we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that's called foxfire, and -just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a dark place. We -fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down to rest, and Tom -says, kind of dissatisfied -"Blame it, this whole thing is just as easy and awkward as it can be. -And so it makes it so rotten difficult to get up a difficult plan. There -ain't no watchman to be druggednow there OUGHT to be a watchman. There -ain't even a dog to give a sleepingmixture to. And there's Jim chained -by one leg, with a tenfoot chain, to the leg of his bed why, all you -got to do is to lift up the bedstead and slip off the chain. And Uncle -Silas he trusts everybody sends the key to the punkinheaded nigger, and -don't send nobody to watch the nigger. Jim could a got out of that -windowhole before this, only there wouldn't be no use trying to travel -with a tenfoot chain on his leg. Why, drat it, Huck, it's the stupidest -arrangement I ever see. You got to invent ALL the difficulties. Well, we -can't help it we got to do the best we can with the materials we've got. -Anyhow, there's one thingthere's more honor in getting him out -through a lot of difficulties and dangers, where there warn't one of them -furnished to you by the people who it was their duty to furnish them, and -you had to contrive them all out of your own head. Now look at just that -one thing of the lantern. When you come down to the cold facts, we -simply got to LET ON that a lantern's resky. Why, we could work with a -torchlight procession if we wanted to, I believe. Now, whilst I think of -it, we got to hunt up something to make a saw out of the first chance we -get." -"What do we want of a saw?" -"What do we WANT of a saw? Hain't we got to saw the leg of Jim's bed -off, so as to get the chain loose?" -"Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain -off." -"Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn. You CAN get up the -infantschooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain't you ever read -any books at all?Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, -nor Henri IV., nor none of them heroes? Who ever heard of getting a -prisoner loose in such an oldmaidy way as that? No the way all the -best authorities does is to saw the bedleg in two, and leave it just so, -and swallow the sawdust, so it can't be found, and put some dirt and -grease around the sawed place so the very keenest seneskal can't see no -sign of it's being sawed, and thinks the bedleg is perfectly sound. -Then, the night you're ready, fetch the leg a kick, down she goes slip -off your chain, and there you are. Nothing to do but hitch your rope -ladder to the battlements, shin down it, break your leg in the moat -because a rope ladder is nineteen foot too short, you knowand there's -your horses and your trusty vassles, and they scoop you up and fling you -across a saddle, and away you go to your native Langudoc, or Navarre, or -wherever it is. It's gaudy, Huck. I wish there was a moat to this cabin. -If we get time, the night of the escape, we'll dig one." -I says -"What do we want of a moat when we're going to snake him out from under -the cabin?" -But he never heard me. He had forgot me and everything else. He had his -chin in his hand, thinking. Pretty soon he sighs and shakes his head -then sighs again, and says -"No, it wouldn't dothere ain't necessity enough for it." -"For what?" I says. -"Why, to saw Jim's leg off," he says. -"Good land" I says "why, there ain't NO necessity for it. And what -would you want to saw his leg off for, anyway?" -"Well, some of the best authorities has done it. They couldn't get the -chain off, so they just cut their hand off and shoved. And a leg would -be better still. But we got to let that go. There ain't necessity -enough in this case and, besides, Jim's a nigger, and wouldn't -understand the reasons for it, and how it's the custom in Europe so -we'll let it go. But there's one thinghe can have a rope ladder we -can tear up our sheets and make him a rope ladder easy enough. And we -can send it to him in a pie it's mostly done that way. And I've et -worse pies." -"Why, Tom Sawyer, how you talk," I says "Jim ain't got no use for a rope -ladder." -"He HAS got use for it. How YOU talk, you better say you don't know -nothing about it. He's GOT to have a rope ladder they all do." -"What in the nation can he DO with it?" -"DO with it? He can hide it in his bed, can't he? That's what they all -do and HE'S got to, too. Huck, you don't ever seem to want to do -anything that's regular you want to be starting something fresh all the -time. S'pose he DON'T do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, for -a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want clews? Of -course they will. And you wouldn't leave them any? That would be a -PRETTY howdydo, WOULDN'T it I never heard of such a thing." -"Well," I says, "if it's in the regulations, and he's got to have it, all -right, let him have it because I don't wish to go back on no -regulations but there's one thing, Tom Sawyerif we go to tearing up -our sheets to make Jim a rope ladder, we're going to get into trouble -with Aunt Sally, just as sure as you're born. Now, the way I look at it, -a hickrybark ladder don't cost nothing, and don't waste nothing, and is -just as good to load up a pie with, and hide in a straw tick, as any rag -ladder you can start and as for Jim, he ain't had no experience, and so -he don't care what kind of a" -"Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, if I was as ignorant as you I'd keep still -that's what I'D do. Who ever heard of a state prisoner escaping by a -hickrybark ladder? Why, it's perfectly ridiculous." -"Well, all right, Tom, fix it your own way but if you'll take my advice, -you'll let me borrow a sheet off of the clothesline." -He said that would do. And that gave him another idea, and he says -"Borrow a shirt, too." -"What do we want of a shirt, Tom?" -"Want it for Jim to keep a journal on." -"Journal your grannyJIM can't write." -"S'pose he CAN'T writehe can make marks on the shirt, can't he, if we -make him a pen out of an old pewter spoon or a piece of an old iron -barrelhoop?" -"Why, Tom, we can pull a feather out of a goose and make him a better -one and quicker, too." -"PRISONERS don't have geese running around the donjonkeep to pull pens -out of, you muggins. They ALWAYS make their pens out of the hardest, -toughest, troublesomest piece of old brass candlestick or something like -that they can get their hands on and it takes them weeks and weeks and -months and months to file it out, too, because they've got to do it by -rubbing it on the wall. THEY wouldn't use a goosequill if they had it. -It ain't regular." -"Well, then, what'll we make him the ink out of?" -"Many makes it out of ironrust and tears but that's the common sort and -women the best authorities uses their own blood. Jim can do that and -when he wants to send any little common ordinary mysterious message to -let the world know where he's captivated, he can write it on the bottom -of a tin plate with a fork and throw it out of the window. The Iron Mask -always done that, and it's a blame' good way, too." -"Jim ain't got no tin plates. They feed him in a pan." -"That ain't nothing we can get him some." -"Can't nobody READ his plates." -"That ain't got anything to DO with it, Huck Finn. All HE'S got to do is -to write on the plate and throw it out. You don't HAVE to be able to -read it. Why, half the time you can't read anything a prisoner writes on -a tin plate, or anywhere else." -"Well, then, what's the sense in wasting the plates?" -"Why, blame it all, it ain't the PRISONER'S plates." -"But it's SOMEBODY'S plates, ain't it?" -"Well, spos'n it is? What does the PRISONER care whose" -He broke off there, because we heard the breakfasthorn blowing. So we -cleared out for the house. -Along during the morning I borrowed a sheet and a white shirt off of the -clothesline and I found an old sack and put them in it, and we went -down and got the foxfire, and put that in too. I called it borrowing, -because that was what pap always called it but Tom said it warn't -borrowing, it was stealing. He said we was representing prisoners and -prisoners don't care how they get a thing so they get it, and nobody -don't blame them for it, either. It ain't no crime in a prisoner to -steal the thing he needs to get away with, Tom said it's his right and -so, as long as we was representing a prisoner, we had a perfect right to -steal anything on this place we had the least use for to get ourselves -out of prison with. He said if we warn't prisoners it would be a very -different thing, and nobody but a mean, ornery person would steal when he -warn't a prisoner. So we allowed we would steal everything there was -that come handy. And yet he made a mighty fuss, one day, after that, -when I stole a watermelon out of the niggerpatch and eat it and he made -me go and give the niggers a dime without telling them what it was for. -Tom said that what he meant was, we could steal anything we NEEDED. Well, -I says, I needed the watermelon. But he said I didn't need it to get out -of prison with there's where the difference was. He said if I'd a -wanted it to hide a knife in, and smuggle it to Jim to kill the seneskal -with, it would a been all right. So I let it go at that, though I -couldn't see no advantage in my representing a prisoner if I got to set -down and chaw over a lot of goldleaf distinctions like that every time I -see a chance to hog a watermelon. -Well, as I was saying, we waited that morning till everybody was settled -down to business, and nobody in sight around the yard then Tom he -carried the sack into the leanto whilst I stood off a piece to keep -watch. By and by he come out, and we went and set down on the woodpile -to talk. He says -"Everything's all right now except tools and that's easy fixed." -"Tools?" I says. -"Yes." -"Tools for what?" -"Why, to dig with. We ain't agoing to GNAW him out, are we?" -"Ain't them old crippled picks and things in there good enough to dig a -nigger out with?" I says. -He turns on me, looking pitying enough to make a body cry, and says -"Huck Finn, did you EVER hear of a prisoner having picks and shovels, and -all the modern conveniences in his wardrobe to dig himself out with? Now -I want to ask youif you got any reasonableness in you at allwhat kind -of a show would THAT give him to be a hero? Why, they might as well lend -him the key and done with it. Picks and shovelswhy, they wouldn't -furnish 'em to a king." -"Well, then," I says, "if we don't want the picks and shovels, what do we -want?" -"A couple of caseknives." -"To dig the foundations out from under that cabin with?" -"Yes." -"Confound it, it's foolish, Tom." -"It don't make no difference how foolish it is, it's the RIGHT wayand -it's the regular way. And there ain't no OTHER way, that ever I heard -of, and I've read all the books that gives any information about these -things. They always dig out with a caseknifeand not through dirt, mind -you generly it's through solid rock. And it takes them weeks and weeks -and weeks, and for ever and ever. Why, look at one of them prisoners in -the bottom dungeon of the Castle Deef, in the harbor of Marseilles, that -dug himself out that way how long was HE at it, you reckon?" -"I don't know." -"Well, guess." -"I don't know. A month and a half." -"THIRTYSEVEN YEARand he come out in China. THAT'S the kind. I wish -the bottom of THIS fortress was solid rock." -"JIM don't know nobody in China." -"What's THAT got to do with it? Neither did that other fellow. But -you're always awandering off on a side issue. Why can't you stick to -the main point?" -"All rightI don't care where he comes out, so he COMES out and Jim -don't, either, I reckon. But there's one thing, anywayJim's too old to -be dug out with a caseknife. He won't last." -"Yes he will LAST, too. You don't reckon it's going to take thirtyseven -years to dig out through a DIRT foundation, do you?" -"How long will it take, Tom?" -"Well, we can't resk being as long as we ought to, because it mayn't take -very long for Uncle Silas to hear from down there by New Orleans. He'll -hear Jim ain't from there. Then his next move will be to advertise Jim, -or something like that. So we can't resk being as long digging him out -as we ought to. By rights I reckon we ought to be a couple of years but -we can't. Things being so uncertain, what I recommend is this that we -really dig right in, as quick as we can and after that, we can LET ON, -to ourselves, that we was at it thirtyseven years. Then we can snatch -him out and rush him away the first time there's an alarm. Yes, I reckon -that 'll be the best way." -"Now, there's SENSE in that," I says. "Letting on don't cost nothing -letting on ain't no trouble and if it's any object, I don't mind letting -on we was at it a hundred and fifty year. It wouldn't strain me none, -after I got my hand in. So I'll mosey along now, and smouch a couple of -caseknives." -"Smouch three," he says "we want one to make a saw out of." -"Tom, if it ain't unregular and irreligious to sejest it," I says, -"there's an old rusty sawblade around yonder sticking under the -weatherboarding behind the smokehouse." -He looked kind of weary and discouragedlike, and says -"It ain't no use to try to learn you nothing, Huck. Run along and smouch -the knivesthree of them." So I done it. -CHAPTER XXXVI. -AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down the -lightningrod, and shut ourselves up in the leanto, and got out our pile -of foxfire, and went to work. We cleared everything out of the way, -about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. Tom said we -was right behind Jim's bed now, and we'd dig in under it, and when we got -through there couldn't nobody in the cabin ever know there was any hole -there, because Jim's counterpin hung down most to the ground, and you'd -have to raise it up and look under to see the hole. So we dug and dug -with the caseknives till most midnight and then we was dogtired, and -our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't see we'd done anything -hardly. At last I says -"This ain't no thirtyseven year job this is a thirtyeight year job, -Tom Sawyer." -He never said nothing. But he sighed, and pretty soon he stopped -digging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking. -Then he says -"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't agoing to work. If we was prisoners it -would, because then we'd have as many years as we wanted, and no hurry -and we wouldn't get but a few minutes to dig, every day, while they was -changing watches, and so our hands wouldn't get blistered, and we could -keep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right, and the -way it ought to be done. But WE can't fool along we got to rush we -ain't got no time to spare. If we was to put in another night this way -we'd have to knock off for a week to let our hands get wellcouldn't -touch a caseknife with them sooner." -"Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?" -"I'll tell you. It ain't right, and it ain't moral, and I wouldn't like -it to get out but there ain't only just the one way we got to dig him -out with the picks, and LET ON it's caseknives." -"NOW you're TALKING" I says "your head gets leveler and leveler all -the time, Tom Sawyer," I says. "Picks is the thing, moral or no moral -and as for me, I don't care shucks for the morality of it, nohow. When I -start in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sundayschool book, I -ain't no ways particular how it's done so it's done. What I want is my -nigger or what I want is my watermelon or what I want is my -Sundayschool book and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thing -I'm agoing to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sundayschool -book out with and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinks -about it nuther." -"Well," he says, "there's excuse for picks and lettingon in a case like -this if it warn't so, I wouldn't approve of it, nor I wouldn't stand by -and see the rules brokebecause right is right, and wrong is wrong, and -a body ain't got no business doing wrong when he ain't ignorant and knows -better. It might answer for YOU to dig Jim out with a pick, WITHOUT any -letting on, because you don't know no better but it wouldn't for me, -because I do know better. Gimme a caseknife." -He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. He flung it down, and -says -"Gimme a CASEKNIFE." -I didn't know just what to dobut then I thought. I scratched around -amongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he took -it and went to work, and never said a word. -He was always just that particular. Full of principle. -So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about, and -made the fur fly. We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was as long -as we could stand up but we had a good deal of a hole to show for it. -When I got up stairs I looked out at the window and see Tom doing his -level best with the lightningrod, but he couldn't come it, his hands was -so sore. At last he says -"It ain't no use, it can't be done. What you reckon I better do? Can't -you think of no way?" -"Yes," I says, "but I reckon it ain't regular. Come up the stairs, and -let on it's a lightningrod." -So he done it. -Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house, -for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles and I hung -around the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tin -plates. Tom says it wasn't enough but I said nobody wouldn't ever see -the plates that Jim throwed out, because they'd fall in the dogfennel -and jimpson weeds under the windowholethen we could tote them back and -he could use them over again. So Tom was satisfied. Then he says -"Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim." -"Take them in through the hole," I says, "when we get it done." -He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heard -of such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. By and by he said -he had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn't no need to decide -on any of them yet. Said we'd got to post Jim first. -That night we went down the lightningrod a little after ten, and took -one of the candles along, and listened under the windowhole, and heard -Jim snoring so we pitched it in, and it didn't wake him. Then we -whirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a half -the job was done. We crept in under Jim's bed and into the cabin, and -pawed around and found the candle and lit it, and stood over Jim awhile, -and found him looking hearty and healthy, and then we woke him up gentle -and gradual. He was so glad to see us he most cried and called us -honey, and all the pet names he could think of and was for having us -hunt up a coldchisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away, -and clearing out without losing any time. But Tom he showed him how -unregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans, and -how we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm and not -to be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, SURE. So Jim -he said it was all right, and we set there and talked over old times -awhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim told him -Uncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and Aunt Sally -come in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, and both of -them was kind as they could be, Tom says -"NOW I know how to fix it. We'll send you some things by them." -I said, "Don't do nothing of the kind it's one of the most jackass ideas -I ever struck" but he never paid no attention to me went right on. It -was his way when he'd got his plans set. -So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the ropeladder pie and other -large things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on the -lookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them and we -would put small things in uncle's coatpockets and he must steal them -out and we would tie things to aunt's apronstrings or put them in her -apronpocket, if we got a chance and told him what they would be and -what they was for. And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt with -his blood, and all that. He told him everything. Jim he couldn't see no -sense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowed -better than him so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all just as -Tom said. -Jim had plenty corncob pipes and tobacco so we had a right down good -sociable time then we crawled out through the hole, and so home to bed, -with hands that looked like they'd been chawed. Tom was in high spirits. -He said it was the best fun he ever had in his life, and the most -intellectural and said if he only could see his way to it we would keep -it up all the rest of our lives and leave Jim to our children to get out -for he believed Jim would come to like it better and better the more he -got used to it. He said that in that way it could be strung out to as -much as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. And he said -it would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it. -In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brass -candlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon in -his pocket. Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat's -notice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of a -cornpone that was in Jim's pan, and we went along with Nat to see how it -would work, and it just worked noble when Jim bit into it it most mashed -all his teeth out and there warn't ever anything could a worked better. -Tom said so himself. Jim he never let on but what it was only just a -piece of rock or something like that that's always getting into bread, -you know but after that he never bit into nothing but what he jabbed his -fork into it in three or four places first. -And whilst we was astanding there in the dimmish light, here comes a -couple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim's bed and they kept on -piling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn't hardly room in -there to get your breath. By jings, we forgot to fasten that leanto -door The nigger Nat he only just hollered "Witches" once, and keeled -over on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he was -dying. Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim's meat, and -the dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and back -again and shut the door, and I knowed he'd fixed the other door too. -Then he went to work on the nigger, coaxing him and petting him, and -asking him if he'd been imagining he saw something again. He raised up, -and blinked his eyes around, and says -"Mars Sid, you'll say I's a fool, but if I didn't b'lieve I see most a -million dogs, er devils, er some'n, I wisht I may die right heah in dese -tracks. I did, mos' sholy. Mars Sid, I FELT umI FELT um, sah dey was -all over me. Dad fetch it, I jis' wisht I could git my han's on one er -dem witches jis' wunston'y jis' wunstit's all I'd ast. But mos'ly I -wisht dey'd lemme 'lone, I does." -Tom says -"Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at this -runaway nigger's breakfasttime? It's because they're hungry that's the -reason. You make them a witch pie that's the thing for YOU to do." -"But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? I doan' -know how to make it. I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'." -"Well, then, I'll have to make it myself." -"Will you do it, honey?will you? I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot, -I will" -"All right, I'll do it, seeing it's you, and you've been good to us and -showed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful. When we -come around, you turn your back and then whatever we've put in the pan, -don't you let on you see it at all. And don't you look when Jim unloads -the pansomething might happen, I don't know what. And above all, don't -you HANDLE the witchthings." -"HANNEL 'm, Mars Sid? What IS you atalkin' 'bout? I wouldn' lay de -weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billion dollars, I -wouldn't." -CHAPTER XXXVII. -THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbagepile in -the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces of -bottles, and woreout tin things, and all such truck, and scratched -around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well as -we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it full -of flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shinglenails -that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name and -sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in Aunt -Sally's apronpocket which was hanging on a chair, and t'other we stuck -in the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which was on the bureau, because we -heard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger's -house this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped the -pewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coatpocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't come -yet, so we had to wait a little while. -And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly wait -for the blessing and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one hand -and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the other, -and says -"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what HAS -become of your other shirt." -My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard -piece of corncrust started down my throat after it and got met on the -road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the -children in the eye and curled him up like a fishingworm, and let a cry -out of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue around -the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things for -about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold out -for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all right -againit was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. -Uncle Silas he says -"It's most uncommon curious, I can't understand it. I know perfectly -well I took it OFF, because" -"Because you hain't got but one ON. Just LISTEN at the man I know you -took it off, and know it by a better way than your woolgethering memory, -too, because it was on the clo'sline yesterdayI see it there myself. -But it's gone, that's the long and the short of it, and you'll just have -to change to a red flann'l one till I can get time to make a new one. -And it 'll be the third I've made in two years. It just keeps a body on -the jump to keep you in shirts and whatever you do manage to DO with 'm -all is more'n I can make out. A body 'd think you WOULD learn to take -some sort of care of 'em at your time of life." -"I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn't to be -altogether my fault, because, you know, I don't see them nor have nothing -to do with them except when they're on me and I don't believe I've ever -lost one of them OFF of me." -"Well, it ain't YOUR fault if you haven't, Silas you'd a done it if you -could, I reckon. And the shirt ain't all that's gone, nuther. Ther's a -spoon gone and THAT ain't all. There was ten, and now ther's only nine. -The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never took the spoon, -THAT'S certain." -"Why, what else is gone, Sally?" -"Ther's six CANDLES gonethat's what. The rats could a got the candles, -and I reckon they did I wonder they don't walk off with the whole place, -the way you're always going to stop their holes and don't do it and if -they warn't fools they'd sleep in your hair, SilasYOU'D never find it -out but you can't lay the SPOON on the rats, and that I know." -"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it I've been remiss but I -won't let tomorrow go by without stopping up them holes." -"Oh, I wouldn't hurry next year 'll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta -PHELPS" -Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the -sugarbowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps -on to the passage, and says -"Missus, dey's a sheet gone." -"A SHEET gone Well, for the land's sake" -"I'll stop up them holes today," says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful. -"Oh, DO shet ups'pose the rats took the SHEET? WHERE'S it gone, -Lize?" -"Clah to goodness I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally. She wuz on de -clo'sline yistiddy, but she done gone she ain' dah no mo' now." -"I reckon the world IS coming to an end. I NEVER see the beat of it in -all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can" -"Missus," comes a young yaller wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick miss'n." -"Cler out from here, you hussy, er I'll take a skillet to ye" -Well, she was just abiling. I begun to lay for a chance I reckoned I -would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She -kept araging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and -everybody else mighty meek and quiet and at last Uncle Silas, looking -kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, -with her mouth open and her hands up and as for me, I wished I was in -Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says -"It's JUST as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time and -like as not you've got the other things there, too. How'd it get there?" -"I reely don't know, Sally," he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know I -would tell. I was astudying over my text in Acts Seventeen before -breakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to put -my Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain't in but -I'll go and see and if the Testament is where I had it, I'll know I -didn't put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down and -took up the spoon, and" -"Oh, for the land's sake Give a body a rest Go 'long now, the whole -kit and biling of ye and don't come nigh me again till I've got back my -peace of mind." -I'd a heard her if she'd a said it to herself, let alone speaking it out -and I'd a got up and obeyed her if I'd a been dead. As we was passing -through the settingroom the old man he took up his hat, and the -shinglenail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and -laid it on the mantelshelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tom -see him do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says -"Well, it ain't no use to send things by HIM no more, he ain't reliable." -Then he says "But he done us a good turn with the spoon, anyway, -without knowing it, and so we'll go and do him one without HIM knowing -itstop up his ratholes." -There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a whole -hour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heard -steps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid and here comes the -old man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t'other, -looking as absentminded as year before last. He went a mooning around, -first to one rathole and then another, till he'd been to them all. Then -he stood about five minutes, picking tallowdrip off of his candle and -thinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, saying -"Well, for the life of me I can't remember when I done it. I could show -her now that I warn't to blame on account of the rats. But never mind -let it go. I reckon it wouldn't do no good." -And so he went on amumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was a -mighty nice old man. And always is. -Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he said -we'd got to have it so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out he -told me how we was to do then we went and waited around the spoonbasket -till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to counting the spoons -and laying them out to one side, and I slid one of them up my sleeve, and -Tom says -"Why, Aunt Sally, there ain't but nine spoons YET." -She says -"Go 'long to your play, and don't bother me. I know better, I counted 'm -myself." -"Well, I've counted them twice, Aunty, and I can't make but nine." -She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to countanybody -would. -"I declare to gracious ther' AIN'T but nine" she says. "Why, what in -the worldplague TAKE the things, I'll count 'm again." -So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, she -says -"Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther's TEN now" and she looked huffy and -bothered both. But Tom says -"Why, Aunty, I don't think there's ten." -"You numskull, didn't you see me COUNT 'm?" -"I know, but" -"Well, I'll count 'm AGAIN." -So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. Well, -she WAS in a tearing wayjust atrembling all over, she was so mad. But -she counted and counted till she got that addled she'd start to count in -the basket for a spoon sometimes and so, three times they come out -right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed up the -basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat galleywest -and she said cle'r out and let her have some peace, and if we come -bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she'd skin us. So we -had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apronpocket whilst she was -agiving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along with her -shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with this -business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, because -he said NOW she couldn't ever count them spoons twice alike again to save -her life and wouldn't believe she'd counted them right if she DID and -said that after she'd about counted her head off for the next three days -he judged she'd give it up and offer to kill anybody that wanted her to -ever count them any more. -So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of her -closet and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a couple of -days till she didn't know how many sheets she had any more, and she -didn't CARE, and warn't agoing to bullyrag the rest of her soul out -about it, and wouldn't count them again not to save her life she druther -die first. -So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon and -the candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixedup -counting and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it would -blow over by and by. -But that pie was a job we had no end of trouble with that pie. We fixed -it up away down in the woods, and cooked it there and we got it done at -last, and very satisfactory, too but not all in one day and we had to -use up three washpans full of flour before we got through, and we got -burnt pretty much all over, in places, and eyes put out with the smoke -because, you see, we didn't want nothing but a crust, and we couldn't -prop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course we thought -of the right way at lastwhich was to cook the ladder, too, in the -pie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore up the sheet -all in little strings and twisted them together, and long before daylight -we had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person with. We let on it -took nine months to make it. -And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn't go into -the pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope enough -for forty pies if we'd a wanted them, and plenty left over for soup, or -sausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole dinner. -But we didn't need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, -and so we throwed the rest away. We didn't cook none of the pies in the -washpanafraid the solder would melt but Uncle Silas he had a noble -brass warmingpan which he thought considerable of, because it belonged -to one of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over from -England with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them early -ships and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and things -that was valuable, not on account of being any account, because they -warn't, but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked her -out, private, and took her down there, but she failed on the first pies, -because we didn't know how, but she come up smiling on the last one. We -took and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and loaded her -up with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the lid, and put -hot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long handle, cool -and comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a pie that was a -satisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would want to fetch a -couple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope ladder wouldn't -cramp him down to business I don't know nothing what I'm talking about, -and lay him in enough stomachache to last him till next time, too. -Nat didn't look when we put the witch pie in Jim's pan and we put the -three tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles and so Jim -got everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted into -the pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, and scratched -some marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the windowhole. -CHAPTER XXXVIII. -MAKING them pens was a distressid tough job, and so was the saw and Jim -allowed the inscription was going to be the toughest of all. That's the -one which the prisoner has to scrabble on the wall. But he had to have -it Tom said he'd GOT to there warn't no case of a state prisoner not -scrabbling his inscription to leave behind, and his coat of arms. -"Look at Lady Jane Grey," he says "look at Gilford Dudley look at old -Northumberland Why, Huck, s'pose it IS considerble trouble?what you -going to do?how you going to get around it? Jim's GOT to do his -inscription and coat of arms. They all do." -Jim says -"Why, Mars Tom, I hain't got no coat o' arm I hain't got nuffn but dish -yer ole shirt, en you knows I got to keep de journal on dat." -"Oh, you don't understand, Jim a coat of arms is very different." -"Well," I says, "Jim's right, anyway, when he says he ain't got no coat -of arms, because he hain't." -"I reckon I knowed that," Tom says, "but you bet he'll have one before he -goes out of thisbecause he's going out RIGHT, and there ain't going to -be no flaws in his record." -So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jim -amaking his'n out of the brass and I making mine out of the spoon, Tom -set to work to think out the coat of arms. By and by he said he'd struck -so many good ones he didn't hardly know which to take, but there was one -which he reckoned he'd decide on. He says -"On the scutcheon we'll have a bend OR in the dexter base, a saltire -MURREY in the fess, with a dog, couchant, for common charge, and under -his foot a chain embattled, for slavery, with a chevron VERT in a chief -engrailed, and three invected lines on a field AZURE, with the nombril -points rampant on a dancette indented crest, a runaway nigger, SABLE, -with his bundle over his shoulder on a bar sinister and a couple of -gules for supporters, which is you and me motto, MAGGIORE FRETTA, MINORE -OTTO. Got it out of a bookmeans the more haste the less speed." -"Geewhillikins," I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?" -"We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says "we got to dig in -like all gitout." -"Well, anyway," I says, "what's SOME of it? What's a fess?" -"A fessa fess isYOU don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show him -how to make it when he gets to it." -"Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar -sinister?" -"Oh, I don't know. But he's got to have it. All the nobility does." -That was just his way. If it didn't suit him to explain a thing to you, -he wouldn't do it. You might pump at him a week, it wouldn't make no -difference. -He'd got all that coat of arms business fixed, so now he started in to -finish up the rest of that part of the work, which was to plan out a -mournful inscriptionsaid Jim got to have one, like they all done. He -made up a lot, and wrote them out on a paper, and read them off, so -. Here a captive heart busted. . Here a poor prisoner, forsook by the -world and friends, fretted his sorrowful life. . Here a lonely heart -broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirtyseven years of -solitary captivity. . Here, homeless and friendless, after thirtyseven -years of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, natural son of -Louis XIV. -Tom's voice trembled whilst he was reading them, and he most broke down. -When he got done he couldn't no way make up his mind which one for Jim to -scrabble on to the wall, they was all so good but at last he allowed he -would let him scrabble them all on. Jim said it would take him a year to -scrabble such a lot of truck on to the logs with a nail, and he didn't -know how to make letters, besides but Tom said he would block them out -for him, and then he wouldn't have nothing to do but just follow the -lines. Then pretty soon he says -"Come to think, the logs ain't agoing to do they don't have log walls -in a dungeon we got to dig the inscriptions into a rock. We'll fetch a -rock." -Jim said the rock was worse than the logs he said it would take him such -a pison long time to dig them into a rock he wouldn't ever get out. But -Tom said he would let me help him do it. Then he took a look to see how -me and Jim was getting along with the pens. It was most pesky tedious -hard work and slow, and didn't give my hands no show to get well of the -sores, and we didn't seem to make no headway, hardly so Tom says -"I know how to fix it. We got to have a rock for the coat of arms and -mournful inscriptions, and we can kill two birds with that same rock. -There's a gaudy big grindstone down at the mill, and we'll smouch it, and -carve the things on it, and file out the pens and the saw on it, too." -It warn't no slouch of an idea and it warn't no slouch of a grindstone -nuther but we allowed we'd tackle it. It warn't quite midnight yet, so -we cleared out for the mill, leaving Jim at work. We smouched the -grindstone, and set out to roll her home, but it was a most nation tough -job. Sometimes, do what we could, we couldn't keep her from falling over, -and she come mighty near mashing us every time. Tom said she was going -to get one of us, sure, before we got through. We got her half way and -then we was plumb played out, and most drownded with sweat. We see it -warn't no use we got to go and fetch Jim So he raised up his bed and -slid the chain off of the bedleg, and wrapt it round and round his neck, -and we crawled out through our hole and down there, and Jim and me laid -into that grindstone and walked her along like nothing and Tom -superintended. He could outsuperintend any boy I ever see. He knowed -how to do everything. -Our hole was pretty big, but it warn't big enough to get the grindstone -through but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tom -marked out them things on it with the nail, and set Jim to work on them, -with the nail for a chisel and an iron bolt from the rubbage in the -leanto for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candle -quit on him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone under -his straw tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back on -the bedleg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought of -something, and says -"You got any spiders in here, Jim?" -"No, sah, thanks to goodness I hain't, Mars Tom." -"All right, we'll get you some." -"But bless you, honey, I doan' WANT none. I's afeard un um. I jis' 's -soon have rattlesnakes aroun'." -Tom thought a minute or two, and says -"It's a good idea. And I reckon it's been done. It MUST a been done it -stands to reason. Yes, it's a prime good idea. Where could you keep -it?" -"Keep what, Mars Tom?" -"Why, a rattlesnake." -"De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to -come in heah I'd take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, wid -my head." -Why, Jim, you wouldn't be afraid of it after a little. You could tame -it." -"TAME it" -"Yeseasy enough. Every animal is grateful for kindness and petting, -and they wouldn't THINK of hurting a person that pets them. Any book -will tell you that. You trythat's all I ask just try for two or three -days. Why, you can get him so in a little while that he'll love you and -sleep with you and won't stay away from you a minute and will let you -wrap him round your neck and put his head in your mouth." -"PLEASE, Mars TomDOAN' talk so I can't STAN' it He'd LET me shove -his head in my mouffer a favor, hain't it? I lay he'd wait a pow'ful -long time 'fo' I AST him. En mo' en dat, I doan' WANT him to sleep wid -me." -"Jim, don't act so foolish. A prisoner's GOT to have some kind of a dumb -pet, and if a rattlesnake hain't ever been tried, why, there's more glory -to be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other way -you could ever think of to save your life." -"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no sich glory. Snake take 'n bite Jim's -chin off, den WHAH is de glory? No, sah, I doan' want no sich doin's." -"Blame it, can't you TRY? I only WANT you to tryyou needn't keep it up -if it don't work." -"But de trouble all DONE ef de snake bite me while I's a tryin' him. -Mars Tom, I's willin' to tackle mos' anything 'at ain't onreasonable, but -ef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I's gwyne to -LEAVE, dat's SHORE." -"Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you're so bullheaded about it. We -can get you some gartersnakes, and you can tie some buttons on their -tails, and let on they're rattlesnakes, and I reckon that 'll have to -do." -"I k'n stan' DEM, Mars Tom, but blame' 'f I couldn' get along widout um, -I tell you dat. I never knowed b'fo' 't was so much bother and trouble -to be a prisoner." -"Well, it ALWAYS is when it's done right. You got any rats around here?" -"No, sah, I hain't seed none." -"Well, we'll get you some rats." -"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' WANT no rats. Dey's de dadblamedest creturs to -'sturb a body, en rustle roun' over 'im, en bite his feet, when he's -tryin' to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g'yartersnakes, 'f I's got -to have 'm, but doan' gimme no rats I hain' got no use f'r um, skasely." -"But, Jim, you GOT to have 'emthey all do. So don't make no more fuss -about it. Prisoners ain't ever without rats. There ain't no instance of -it. And they train them, and pet them, and learn them tricks, and they -get to be as sociable as flies. But you got to play music to them. You -got anything to play music on?" -"I ain' got nuffn but a coase comb en a piece o' paper, en a juiceharp -but I reck'n dey wouldn' take no stock in a juiceharp." -"Yes they would. THEY don't care what kind of music 'tis. A jewsharp's -plenty good enough for a rat. All animals like musicin a prison they -dote on it. Specially, painful music and you can't get no other kind -out of a jewsharp. It always interests them they come out to see -what's the matter with you. Yes, you're all right you're fixed very -well. You want to set on your bed nights before you go to sleep, and -early in the mornings, and play your jewsharp play 'The Last Link is -Broken'that's the thing that 'll scoop a rat quicker 'n anything else -and when you've played about two minutes you'll see all the rats, and the -snakes, and spiders, and things begin to feel worried about you, and -come. And they'll just fairly swarm over you, and have a noble good -time." -"Yes, DEY will, I reck'n, Mars Tom, but what kine er time is JIM havin'? -Blest if I kin see de pint. But I'll do it ef I got to. I reck'n I -better keep de animals satisfied, en not have no trouble in de house." -Tom waited to think it over, and see if there wasn't nothing else and -pretty soon he says -"Oh, there's one thing I forgot. Could you raise a flower here, do you -reckon?" -"I doan know but maybe I could, Mars Tom but it's tolable dark in heah, -en I ain' got no use f'r no flower, nohow, en she'd be a pow'ful sight o' -trouble." -"Well, you try it, anyway. Some other prisoners has done it." -"One er dem big cattaillookin' mullenstalks would grow in heah, Mars -Tom, I reck'n, but she wouldn't be wuth half de trouble she'd coss." -"Don't you believe it. We'll fetch you a little one and you plant it in -the corner over there, and raise it. And don't call it mullen, call it -Pitchiolathat's its right name when it's in a prison. And you want to -water it with your tears." -"Why, I got plenty spring water, Mars Tom." -"You don't WANT spring water you want to water it with your tears. It's -the way they always do." -"Why, Mars Tom, I lay I kin raise one er dem mullenstalks twyste wid -spring water whiles another man's a START'N one wid tears." -"That ain't the idea. You GOT to do it with tears." -"She'll die on my han's, Mars Tom, she sholy will kase I doan' skasely -ever cry." -So Tom was stumped. But he studied it over, and then said Jim would have -to worry along the best he could with an onion. He promised he would go -to the nigger cabins and drop one, private, in Jim's coffeepot, in the -morning. Jim said he would "jis' 's soon have tobacker in his coffee" -and found so much fault with it, and with the work and bother of raising -the mullen, and jewsharping the rats, and petting and flattering up the -snakes and spiders and things, on top of all the other work he had to do -on pens, and inscriptions, and journals, and things, which made it more -trouble and worry and responsibility to be a prisoner than anything he -ever undertook, that Tom most lost all patience with him and said he was -just loadened down with more gaudier chances than a prisoner ever had in -the world to make a name for himself, and yet he didn't know enough to -appreciate them, and they was just about wasted on him. So Jim he was -sorry, and said he wouldn't behave so no more, and then me and Tom shoved -for bed. -CHAPTER XXXIX. -IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rattrap and -fetched it down, and unstopped the best rathole, and in about an hour we -had fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones and then we took it and put it -in a safe place under Aunt Sally's bed. But while we was gone for -spiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps found -it there, and opened the door of it to see if the rats would come out, -and they did and Aunt Sally she come in, and when we got back she was -astanding on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing what -they could to keep off the dull times for her. So she took and dusted us -both with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catching another -fifteen or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn't the -likeliest, nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock. -I never see a likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was. -We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, and -caterpillars, and one thing or another and we like to got a hornet's -nest, but we didn't. The family was at home. We didn't give it right -up, but stayed with them as long as we could because we allowed we'd -tire them out or they'd got to tire us out, and they done it. Then we -got allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all right -again, but couldn't set down convenient. And so we went for the snakes, -and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and housesnakes, and put them in a -bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was suppertime, and a -rattling good honest day's work and hungry?oh, no, I reckon not And -there warn't a blessed snake up there when we went backwe didn't half -tie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. But it didn't -matter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. So we -judged we could get some of them again. No, there warn't no real -scarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. You'd see -them dripping from the rafters and places every now and then and they -generly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and most of -the time where you didn't want them. Well, they was handsome and -striped, and there warn't no harm in a million of them but that never -made no difference to Aunt Sally she despised snakes, be the breed what -they might, and she couldn't stand them no way you could fix it and -every time one of them flopped down on her, it didn't make no difference -what she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. I -never see such a woman. And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. You -couldn't get her to take aholt of one of them with the tongs. And if -she turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift a -howl that you would think the house was afire. She disturbed the old man -so that he said he could most wish there hadn't ever been no snakes -created. Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of the -house for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn't over it yet she warn't -near over it when she was setting thinking about something you could -touch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jump right -out of her stockings. It was very curious. But Tom said all women was -just so. He said they was made that way for some reason or other. -We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and she -allowed these lickings warn't nothing to what she would do if we ever -loaded up the place again with them. I didn't mind the lickings, because -they didn't amount to nothing but I minded the trouble we had to lay in -another lot. But we got them laid in, and all the other things and you -never see a cabin as blithesome as Jim's was when they'd all swarm out -for music and go for him. Jim didn't like the spiders, and the spiders -didn't like Jim and so they'd lay for him, and make it mighty warm for -him. And he said that between the rats and the snakes and the grindstone -there warn't no room in bed for him, skasely and when there was, a body -couldn't sleep, it was so lively, and it was always lively, he said, -because THEY never all slept at one time, but took turn about, so when -the snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, and when the rats turned in -the snakes come on watch, so he always had one gang under him, in his -way, and t'other gang having a circus over him, and if he got up to hunt -a new place the spiders would take a chance at him as he crossed over. -He said if he ever got out this time he wouldn't ever be a prisoner -again, not for a salary. -Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape. The -shirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim he would -get up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh the -pens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on the -grindstone the bedleg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust, -and it give us a most amazing stomachache. We reckoned we was all going -to die, but didn't. It was the most undigestible sawdust I ever see and -Tom said the same. But as I was saying, we'd got all the work done now, -at last and we was all pretty much fagged out, too, but mainly Jim. The -old man had wrote a couple of times to the plantation below Orleans to -come and get their runaway nigger, but hadn't got no answer, because -there warn't no such plantation so he allowed he would advertise Jim in -the St. Louis and New Orleans papers and when he mentioned the St. Louis -ones it give me the cold shivers, and I see we hadn't no time to lose. -So Tom said, now for the nonnamous letters. -"What's them?" I says. -"Warnings to the people that something is up. Sometimes it's done one -way, sometimes another. But there's always somebody spying around that -gives notice to the governor of the castle. When Louis XVI. was going to -light out of the Tooleries a servantgirl done it. It's a very good way, -and so is the nonnamous letters. We'll use them both. And it's usual -for the prisoner's mother to change clothes with him, and she stays in, -and he slides out in her clothes. We'll do that, too." -"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to WARN anybody for that -something's up? Let them find it out for themselvesit's their -lookout." -"Yes, I know but you can't depend on them. It's the way they've acted -from the very startleft us to do EVERYTHING. They're so confiding and -mulletheaded they don't take notice of nothing at all. So if we don't -GIVE them notice there won't be nobody nor nothing to interfere with us, -and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape 'll go off -perfectly flat won't amount to nothingwon't be nothing TO it." -"Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like." -"Shucks" he says, and looked disgusted. So I says -"But I ain't going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suits -me. What you going to do about the servantgirl?" -"You'll be her. You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook that -yaller girl's frock." -"Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning because, of course, she -prob'bly hain't got any but that one." -"I know but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry the -nonnamous letter and shove it under the front door." -"All right, then, I'll do it but I could carry it just as handy in my -own togs." -"You wouldn't look like a servantgirl THEN, would you?" -"No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, ANYWAY." -"That ain't got nothing to do with it. The thing for us to do is just to -do our DUTY, and not worry about whether anybody SEES us do it or not. -Hain't you got no principle at all?" -"All right, I ain't saying nothing I'm the servantgirl. Who's Jim's -mother?" -"I'm his mother. I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally." -"Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves." -"Not much. I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bed -to represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman's -gown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together. When a -prisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion. It's always called so -when a king escapes, f'rinstance. And the same with a king's son it -don't make no difference whether he's a natural one or an unnatural one." -So Tom he wrote the nonnamous letter, and I smouched the yaller wench's -frock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, the -way Tom told me to. It said -Beware. Trouble is brewing. Keep a sharp lookout. UNKNOWN FRIEND. -Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in blood, of a skull and -crossbones on the front door and next night another one of a coffin on -the back door. I never see a family in such a sweat. They couldn't a -been worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for them -behind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. If a -door banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said "ouch" if anything fell, she -jumped and said "ouch" if you happened to touch her, when she warn't -noticing, she done the same she couldn't face noway and be satisfied, -because she allowed there was something behind her every timeso she was -always awhirling around sudden, and saying "ouch," and before she'd got -twothirds around she'd whirl back again, and say it again and she was -afraid to go to bed, but she dasn't set up. So the thing was working -very well, Tom said he said he never see a thing work more satisfactory. -He said it showed it was done right. -So he said, now for the grand bulge So the very next morning at the -streak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what we -better do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was going to -have a nigger on watch at both doors all night. Tom he went down the -lightningrod to spy around and the nigger at the back door was asleep, -and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. This letter said -Don't betray me, I wish to be your friend. There is a desprate gang of -cutthroats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runaway -nigger tonight, and they have been trying to scare you so as you will -stay in the house and not bother them. I am one of the gang, but have -got religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, and will -betray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards, along the -fence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in the nigger's cabin -to get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin horn if I see any -danger but stead of that I will BA like a sheep soon as they get in and -not blow at all then whilst they are getting his chains loose, you slip -there and lock them in, and can kill them at your leasure. Don't do -anything but just the way I am telling you if you do they will suspicion -something and raise whoopjamboreehoo. I do not wish any reward but to -know I have done the right thing. UNKNOWN FRIEND. -CHAPTER XL. -WE was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and went -over the river afishing, with a lunch, and had a good time, and took a -look at the raft and found her all right, and got home late to supper, -and found them in such a sweat and worry they didn't know which end they -was standing on, and made us go right off to bed the minute we was done -supper, and wouldn't tell us what the trouble was, and never let on a -word about the new letter, but didn't need to, because we knowed as much -about it as anybody did, and as soon as we was half up stairs and her -back was turned we slid for the cellar cupboard and loaded up a good -lunch and took it up to our room and went to bed, and got up about -halfpast eleven, and Tom put on Aunt Sally's dress that he stole and -was going to start with the lunch, but says -"Where's the butter?" -"I laid out a hunk of it," I says, "on a piece of a cornpone." -"Well, you LEFT it laid out, thenit ain't here." -"We can get along without it," I says. -"We can get along WITH it, too," he says "just you slide down cellar and -fetch it. And then mosey right down the lightningrod and come along. -I'll go and stuff the straw into Jim's clothes to represent his mother in -disguise, and be ready to BA like a sheep and shove soon as you get -there." -So out he went, and down cellar went I. The hunk of butter, big as a -person's fist, was where I had left it, so I took up the slab of -cornpone with it on, and blowed out my light, and started up stairs very -stealthy, and got up to the main floor all right, but here comes Aunt -Sally with a candle, and I clapped the truck in my hat, and clapped my -hat on my head, and the next second she see me and she says -"You been down cellar?" -"Yes'm." -"What you been doing down there?" -"Noth'n." -"NOTH'N" -"No'm." -"Well, then, what possessed you to go down there this time of night?" -"I don't know 'm." -"You don't KNOW? Don't answer me that way. Tom, I want to know what you -been DOING down there." -"I hain't been doing a single thing, Aunt Sally, I hope to gracious if I -have." -I reckoned she'd let me go now, and as a generl thing she would but I -s'pose there was so many strange things going on she was just in a sweat -about every little thing that warn't yardstick straight so she says, -very decided -"You just march into that settingroom and stay there till I come. You -been up to something you no business to, and I lay I'll find out what it -is before I'M done with you." -So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the settingroom. -My, but there was a crowd there Fifteen farmers, and every one of them -had a gun. I was most powerful sick, and slunk to a chair and set down. -They was setting around, some of them talking a little, in a low voice, -and all of them fidgety and uneasy, but trying to look like they warn't -but I knowed they was, because they was always taking off their hats, and -putting them on, and scratching their heads, and changing their seats, -and fumbling with their buttons. I warn't easy myself, but I didn't take -my hat off, all the same. -I did wish Aunt Sally would come, and get done with me, and lick me, if -she wanted to, and let me get away and tell Tom how we'd overdone this -thing, and what a thundering hornet'snest we'd got ourselves into, so we -could stop fooling around straight off, and clear out with Jim before -these rips got out of patience and come for us. -At last she come and begun to ask me questions, but I COULDN'T answer -them straight, I didn't know which end of me was up because these men -was in such a fidget now that some was wanting to start right NOW and lay -for them desperadoes, and saying it warn't but a few minutes to midnight -and others was trying to get them to hold on and wait for the -sheepsignal and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and me -ashaking all over and ready to sink down in my tracks I was that scared -and the place getting hotter and hotter, and the butter beginning to melt -and run down my neck and behind my ears and pretty soon, when one of -them says, "I'M for going and getting in the cabin FIRST and right NOW, -and catching them when they come," I most dropped and a streak of butter -come atrickling down my forehead, and Aunt Sally she see it, and turns -white as a sheet, and says -"For the land's sake, what IS the matter with the child? He's got the -brainfever as shore as you're born, and they're oozing out" -And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes the -bread and what was left of the butter, and she grabbed me, and hugged me, -and says -"Oh, what a turn you did give me and how glad and grateful I am it ain't -no worse for luck's against us, and it never rains but it pours, and -when I see that truck I thought we'd lost you, for I knowed by the color -and all it was just like your brains would be ifDear, dear, whyd'nt you -TELL me that was what you'd been down there for, I wouldn't a cared. Now -cler out to bed, and don't lemme see no more of you till morning" -I was up stairs in a second, and down the lightningrod in another one, -and shinning through the dark for the leanto. I couldn't hardly get my -words out, I was so anxious but I told Tom as quick as I could we must -jump for it now, and not a minute to losethe house full of men, yonder, -with guns -His eyes just blazed and he says -"Nois that so? AIN'T it bully Why, Huck, if it was to do over -again, I bet I could fetch two hundred If we could put it off till" -"Hurry HURRY" I says. "Where's Jim?" -"Right at your elbow if you reach out your arm you can touch him. He's -dressed, and everything's ready. Now we'll slide out and give the -sheepsignal." -But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard them -begin to fumble with the padlock, and heard a man say -"I TOLD you we'd be too soon they haven't comethe door is locked. -Here, I'll lock some of you into the cabin, and you lay for 'em in the -dark and kill 'em when they come and the rest scatter around a piece, -and listen if you can hear 'em coming." -So in they come, but couldn't see us in the dark, and most trod on us -whilst we was hustling to get under the bed. But we got under all right, -and out through the hole, swift but softJim first, me next, and Tom -last, which was according to Tom's orders. Now we was in the leanto, -and heard trampings close by outside. So we crept to the door, and Tom -stopped us there and put his eye to the crack, but couldn't make out -nothing, it was so dark and whispered and said he would listen for the -steps to get further, and when he nudged us Jim must glide out first, and -him last. So he set his ear to the crack and listened, and listened, and -listened, and the steps ascraping around out there all the time and at -last he nudged us, and we slid out, and stooped down, not breathing, and -not making the least noise, and slipped stealthy towards the fence in -Injun file, and got to it all right, and me and Jim over it but Tom's -britches catched fast on a splinter on the top rail, and then he hear the -steps coming, so he had to pull loose, which snapped the splinter and -made a noise and as he dropped in our tracks and started somebody sings -out -"Who's that? Answer, or I'll shoot" -But we didn't answer we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then there -was a rush, and a BANG, BANG, BANG and the bullets fairly whizzed around -us We heard them sing out -"Here they are They've broke for the river After 'em, boys, and turn -loose the dogs" -So here they come, full tilt. We could hear them because they wore boots -and yelled, but we didn't wear no boots and didn't yell. We was in the -path to the mill and when they got pretty close on to us we dodged into -the bush and let them go by, and then dropped in behind them. They'd had -all the dogs shut up, so they wouldn't scare off the robbers but by this -time somebody had let them loose, and here they come, making powwow -enough for a million but they was our dogs so we stopped in our tracks -till they catched up and when they see it warn't nobody but us, and no -excitement to offer them, they only just said howdy, and tore right ahead -towards the shouting and clattering and then we upsteam again, and -whizzed along after them till we was nearly to the mill, and then struck -up through the bush to where my canoe was tied, and hopped in and pulled -for dear life towards the middle of the river, but didn't make no more -noise than we was obleeged to. Then we struck out, easy and comfortable, -for the island where my raft was and we could hear them yelling and -barking at each other all up and down the bank, till we was so far away -the sounds got dim and died out. And when we stepped on to the raft I -says -"NOW, old Jim, you're a free man again, and I bet you won't ever be a -slave no more." -"En a mighty good job it wuz, too, Huck. It 'uz planned beautiful, en it -'uz done beautiful en dey ain't NOBODY kin git up a plan dat's mo' -mixedup en splendid den what dat one wuz." -We was all glad as we could be, but Tom was the gladdest of all because -he had a bullet in the calf of his leg. -When me and Jim heard that we didn't feel so brash as what we did before. -It was hurting him considerable, and bleeding so we laid him in the -wigwam and tore up one of the duke's shirts for to bandage him, but he -says -"Gimme the rags I can do it myself. Don't stop now don't fool around -here, and the evasion booming along so handsome man the sweeps, and set -her loose Boys, we done it elegant'deed we did. I wish WE'D a had -the handling of Louis XVI., there wouldn't a been no 'Son of Saint Louis, -ascend to heaven' wrote down in HIS biography no, sir, we'd a whooped -him over the BORDERthat's what we'd a done with HIMand done it just -as slick as nothing at all, too. Man the sweepsman the sweeps" -But me and Jim was consultingand thinking. And after we'd thought a -minute, I says -"Say it, Jim." -So he says -"Well, den, dis is de way it look to me, Huck. Ef it wuz HIM dat 'uz -bein' sot free, en one er de boys wuz to git shot, would he say, 'Go on -en save me, nemmine 'bout a doctor f'r to save dis one?' Is dat like -Mars Tom Sawyer? Would he say dat? You BET he wouldn't WELL, den, is -JIM gywne to say it? No, sahI doan' budge a step out'n dis place 'dout -a DOCTOR, not if it's forty year" -I knowed he was white inside, and I reckoned he'd say what he did sayso -it was all right now, and I told Tom I was agoing for a doctor. He -raised considerable row about it, but me and Jim stuck to it and wouldn't -budge so he was for crawling out and setting the raft loose himself but -we wouldn't let him. Then he give us a piece of his mind, but it didn't -do no good. -So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says -"Well, then, if you re bound to go, I'll tell you the way to do when you -get to the village. Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight and -fast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse full -of gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the back -alleys and everywheres in the dark, and then fetch him here in the canoe, -in a roundabout way amongst the islands, and search him and take his -chalk away from him, and don't give it back to him till you get him back -to the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it again. -It's the way they all do." -So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he see -the doctor coming till he was gone again. -CHAPTER XLI. -THE doctor was an old man a very nice, kindlooking old man when I got -him up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island hunting -yesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and about -midnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and shot -him in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and not say -nothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to come home -this evening and surprise the folks. -"Who is your folks?" he says. -"The Phelpses, down yonder." -"Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says -"How'd you say he got shot?" -"He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." -"Singular dream," he says. -So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddlebags, and we started. But -when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of hersaid she was big -enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two. I says -"Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easy -enough." -"What three?" -"Why, me and Sid, andandand THE GUNS that's what I mean." -"Oh," he says. -But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, and -said he reckoned he'd look around for a bigger one. But they was all -locked and chained so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait till he -come back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better go down home -and get them ready for the surprise if I wanted to. But I said I didn't -so I told him just how to find the raft, and then he started. -I struck an idea pretty soon. I says to myself, spos'n he can't fix that -leg just in three shakes of a sheep's tail, as the saying is? spos'n it -takes him three or four days? What are we going to do?lay around there -till he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir I know what I'LL do. I'll -wait, and when he comes back if he says he's got to go any more I'll get -down there, too, if I swim and we'll take and tie him, and keep him, and -shove out down the river and when Tom's done with him we'll give him -what it's worth, or all we got, and then let him get ashore. -So then I crept into a lumberpile to get some sleep and next time I -waked up the sun was away up over my head I shot out and went for the -doctor's house, but they told me he'd gone away in the night some time or -other, and warn't back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad for -Tom, and I'll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, and -turned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas's stomach -He says -"Why, TOM Where you been all this time, you rascal?" -"I hain't been nowheres," I says, "only just hunting for the runaway -niggerme and Sid." -"Why, where ever did you go?" he says. "Your aunt's been mighty uneasy." -"She needn't," I says, "because we was all right. We followed the men -and the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them but we thought we -heard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them and -crossed over, but couldn't find nothing of them so we cruised along -upshore till we got kind of tired and beat out and tied up the canoe -and went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago then we -paddled over here to hear the news, and Sid's at the postoffice to see -what he can hear, and I'm abranching out to get something to eat for us, -and then we're going home." -So then we went to the postoffice to get "Sid" but just as I -suspicioned, he warn't there so the old man he got a letter out of the -office, and we waited awhile longer, but Sid didn't come so the old man -said, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got done -fooling aroundbut we would ride. I couldn't get him to let me stay and -wait for Sid and he said there warn't no use in it, and I must come -along, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right. -When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and cried -both, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that don't -amount to shucks, and said she'd serve Sid the same when he come. -And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers' wives, to dinner and -such another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the worst -her tongue was agoing all the time. She says -"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked thatair cabin over, an' I b'lieve -the nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrelldidn't I, Sister -Damrell?s'I, he's crazy, s'Ithem's the very words I said. You all -hearn me he's crazy, s'I everything shows it, s'I. Look at thatair -grindstone, s'I want to tell ME't any cretur 't's in his right mind 's a -goin' to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s'I? Here -sich 'n' sich a person busted his heart 'n' here so 'n' so pegged along -for thirtyseven year, 'n' all thatnatcherl son o' Louis somebody, 'n' -sich everlast'n rubbage. He's plumb crazy, s'I it's what I says in the -fust place, it's what I says in the middle, 'n' it's what I says last 'n' -all the timethe nigger's crazycrazy 's Nebokoodneezer, s'I." -"An' look at thatair ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says old -Mrs. Damrell "what in the name o' goodness COULD he ever want of" -"The very words I was asayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to Sister -Utterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Shshe, look at thatair rag -ladder, shshe 'n' s'I, yes, LOOK at it, s'Iwhat COULD he awanted of -it, s'I. Shshe, Sister Hotchkiss, shshe" -"But how in the nation'd they ever GIT that grindstone IN there, ANYWAY? -'n' who dug thatair HOLE? 'n' who" -"My very WORDS, Brer Penrod I was asayin'pass thatair sasser o' -m'lasses, won't ye?I was asayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, -how DID they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without HELP, mind you -'thout HELP THAT'S wher 'tis. Don't tell ME, s'I there WUZ help, -s'I 'n' ther' wuz a PLENTY help, too, s'I ther's ben a DOZEN ahelpin' -that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place but I'D -find out who done it, s'I 'n' moreover, s'I" -"A DOZEN says youFORTY couldn't a done every thing that's been done. -Look at them caseknife saws and things, how tedious they've been made -look at that bedleg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for six men look -at that nigger made out'n straw on the bed and look at" -"You may WELL say it, Brer Hightower It's jist as I was asayin' to -Brer Phelps, his own self. S'e, what do YOU think of it, Sister -Hotchkiss, s'e? Think o' what, Brer Phelps, s'I? Think o' that bedleg -sawed off that a way, s'e? THINK of it, s'I? I lay it never sawed -ITSELF off, s'Isomebody SAWED it, s'I that's my opinion, take it or -leave it, it mayn't be no 'count, s'I, but sich as 't is, it's my -opinion, s'I, 'n' if any body k'n start a better one, s'I, let him DO it, -s'I, that's all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s'I" -"Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a housefull o' niggers in there every -night for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look at -that shirtevery last inch of it kivered over with secret African writ'n -done with blood Must a ben a raft uv 'm at it right along, all the -time, amost. Why, I'd give two dollars to have it read to me 'n' as for -the niggers that wrote it, I 'low I'd take 'n' lash 'm t'll" -"People to HELP him, Brother Marples Well, I reckon you'd THINK so if -you'd a been in this house for a while back. Why, they've stole -everything they could lay their hands onand we awatching all the time, -mind you. They stole that shirt right off o' the line and as for that -sheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther' ain't no telling how many -times they DIDN'T steal that and flour, and candles, and candlesticks, -and spoons, and the old warmingpan, and most a thousand things that I -disremember now, and my new calico dress and me and Silas and my Sid and -Tom on the constant watch day AND night, as I was atelling you, and not -a one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight nor sound of them and -here at the last minute, lo and behold you, they slides right in under -our noses and fools us, and not only fools US but the Injun Territory -robbers too, and actuly gets AWAY with that nigger safe and sound, and -that with sixteen men and twentytwo dogs right on their very heels at -that very time I tell you, it just bangs anything I ever HEARD of. -Why, SPERITS couldn't a done better and been no smarter. And I reckon -they must a BEEN speritsbecause, YOU know our dogs, and ther' ain't no -better well, them dogs never even got on the TRACK of 'm once You -explain THAT to me if you canANY of you" -"Well, it does beat" -"Laws alive, I never" -"So help me, I wouldn't a be" -"HOUSEthieves as well as" -"Goodnessgracioussakes, I'd a ben afeard to live in sich a" -"'Fraid to LIVEwhy, I was that scared I dasn't hardly go to bed, or -get up, or lay down, or SET down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they'd steal the -verywhy, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I was -in by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn't -afraid they'd steal some o' the family I was just to that pass I didn't -have no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough NOW, in the -daytime but I says to myself, there's my two poor boys asleep, 'way up -stairs in that lonesome room, and I declare to goodness I was that uneasy -'t I crep' up there and locked 'em in I DID. And anybody would. -Because, you know, when you get scared that way, and it keeps running on, -and getting worse and worse all the time, and your wits gets to addling, -and you get to doing all sorts o' wild things, and by and by you think to -yourself, spos'n I was a boy, and was away up there, and the door ain't -locked, and you" She stopped, looking kind of wondering, and then she -turned her head around slow, and when her eye lit on meI got up and -took a walk. -Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that room -this morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. So I -done it. But I dasn't go fur, or she'd a sent for me. And when it was -late in the day the people all went, and then I come in and told her the -noise and shooting waked up me and "Sid," and the door was locked, and we -wanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightningrod, and both of us -got hurt a little, and we didn't never want to try THAT no more. And -then I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas before and then -she said she'd forgive us, and maybe it was all right enough anyway, and -about what a body might expect of boys, for all boys was a pretty -harumscarum lot as fur as she could see and so, as long as no harm -hadn't come of it, she judged she better put in her time being grateful -we was alive and well and she had us still, stead of fretting over what -was past and done. So then she kissed me, and patted me on the head, and -dropped into a kind of a brown study and pretty soon jumps up, and says -"Why, lawsamercy, it's most night, and Sid not come yet What HAS become -of that boy?" -I see my chance so I skips up and says -"I'll run right up to town and get him," I says. -"No you won't," she says. "You'll stay right wher' you are ONE'S enough -to be lost at a time. If he ain't here to supper, your uncle 'll go." -Well, he warn't there to supper so right after supper uncle went. -He come back about ten a little bit uneasy hadn't run across Tom's -track. Aunt Sally was a good DEAL uneasy but Uncle Silas he said there -warn't no occasion to beboys will be boys, he said, and you'll see this -one turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had to be -satisfied. But she said she'd set up for him a while anyway, and keep a -light burning so he could see it. -And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched her -candle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like I -couldn't look her in the face and she set down on the bed and talked -with me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn't -seem to want to ever stop talking about him and kept asking me every now -and then if I reckoned he could a got lost, or hurt, or maybe drownded, -and might be laying at this minute somewheres suffering or dead, and she -not by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down silent, and I -would tell her that Sid was all right, and would be home in the morning, -sure and she would squeeze my hand, or maybe kiss me, and tell me to say -it again, and keep on saying it, because it done her good, and she was in -so much trouble. And when she was going away she looked down in my eyes -so steady and gentle, and says -"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and the -rod but you'll be good, WON'T you? And you won't go? For MY sake." -Laws knows I WANTED to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all -intending to go but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms. -But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. -And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped around -front, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with her -eyes towards the road and the tears in them and I wished I could do -something for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never do -nothing to grieve her any more. And the third time I waked up at dawn, -and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, and -her old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep. -CHAPTER XLII. -THE old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn't get no track -of Tom and both of them set at the table thinking, and not saying -nothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and not -eating anything. And by and by the old man says -"Did I give you the letter?" -"What letter?" -"The one I got yesterday out of the postoffice." -"No, you didn't give me no letter." -"Well, I must a forgot it." -So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had -laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her. She says -"Why, it's from St. Petersburgit's from Sis." -I allowed another walk would do me good but I couldn't stir. But before -she could break it open she dropped it and runfor she see something. -And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress and that old doctor and -Jim, in HER calico dress, with his hands tied behind him and a lot of -people. I hid the letter behind the first thing that come handy, and -rushed. She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says -"Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead" -And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, -which showed he warn't in his right mind then she flung up her hands, -and says -"He's alive, thank God And that's enough" and she snatched a kiss of -him, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering orders -right and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tongue -could go, every jump of the way. -I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim and the old -doctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house. The men was -very huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to all the -other niggers around there, so they wouldn't be trying to run away like -Jim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a whole family -scared most to death for days and nights. But the others said, don't do -it, it wouldn't answer at all he ain't our nigger, and his owner would -turn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that cooled them down a -little, because the people that's always the most anxious for to hang a -nigger that hain't done just right is always the very ones that ain't the -most anxious to pay for him when they've got their satisfaction out of -him. -They cussed Jim considerble, though, and give him a cuff or two side the -head once in a while, but Jim never said nothing, and he never let on to -know me, and they took him to the same cabin, and put his own clothes on -him, and chained him again, and not to no bedleg this time, but to a big -staple drove into the bottom log, and chained his hands, too, and both -legs, and said he warn't to have nothing but bread and water to eat after -this till his owner come, or he was sold at auction because he didn't -come in a certain length of time, and filled up our hole, and said a -couple of farmers with guns must stand watch around about the cabin every -night, and a bulldog tied to the door in the daytime and about this time -they was through with the job and was tapering off with a kind of generl -goodbye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and takes a look, and -says -"Don't be no rougher on him than you're obleeged to, because he ain't a -bad nigger. When I got to where I found the boy I see I couldn't cut the -bullet out without some help, and he warn't in no condition for me to -leave to go and get help and he got a little worse and a little worse, -and after a long time he went out of his head, and wouldn't let me come -anigh him any more, and said if I chalked his raft he'd kill me, and no -end of wild foolishness like that, and I see I couldn't do anything at -all with him so I says, I got to have HELP somehow and the minute I -says it out crawls this nigger from somewheres and says he'll help, and -he done it, too, and done it very well. Of course I judged he must be a -runaway nigger, and there I WAS and there I had to stick right straight -along all the rest of the day and all night. It was a fix, I tell you -I had a couple of patients with the chills, and of course I'd of liked to -run up to town and see them, but I dasn't, because the nigger might get -away, and then I'd be to blame and yet never a skiff come close enough -for me to hail. So there I had to stick plumb until daylight this -morning and I never see a nigger that was a better nuss or faithfuller, -and yet he was risking his freedom to do it, and was all tired out, too, -and I see plain enough he'd been worked main hard lately. I liked the -nigger for that I tell you, gentlemen, a nigger like that is worth a -thousand dollarsand kind treatment, too. I had everything I needed, -and the boy was doing as well there as he would a done at homebetter, -maybe, because it was so quiet but there I WAS, with both of 'm on my -hands, and there I had to stick till about dawn this morning then some -men in a skiff come by, and as good luck would have it the nigger was -setting by the pallet with his head propped on his knees sound asleep so -I motioned them in quiet, and they slipped up on him and grabbed him and -tied him before he knowed what he was about, and we never had no trouble. -And the boy being in a kind of a flighty sleep, too, we muffled the oars -and hitched the raft on, and towed her over very nice and quiet, and the -nigger never made the least row nor said a word from the start. He ain't -no bad nigger, gentlemen that's what I think about him." -Somebody says -"Well, it sounds very good, doctor, I'm obleeged to say." -Then the others softened up a little, too, and I was mighty thankful to -that old doctor for doing Jim that good turn and I was glad it was -according to my judgment of him, too because I thought he had a good -heart in him and was a good man the first time I see him. Then they all -agreed that Jim had acted very well, and was deserving to have some -notice took of it, and reward. So every one of them promised, right out -and hearty, that they wouldn't cuss him no more. -Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say he -could have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rotten -heavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water but they -didn't think of it, and I reckoned it warn't best for me to mix in, but I -judged I'd get the doctor's yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or other as soon -as I'd got through the breakers that was laying just ahead of me -explanations, I mean, of how I forgot to mention about Sid being shot -when I was telling how him and me put in that dratted night paddling -around hunting the runaway nigger. -But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sickroom all day and -all night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I dodged him. -Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt Sally -was gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sickroom, and if I found him -awake I reckoned we could put up a yarn for the family that would wash. -But he was sleeping, and sleeping very peaceful, too and pale, not -firefaced the way he was when he come. So I set down and laid for him -to wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding in, and there I -was, up a stump again She motioned me to be still, and set down by me, -and begun to whisper, and said we could all be joyful now, because all -the symptoms was firstrate, and he'd been sleeping like that for ever so -long, and looking better and peacefuller all the time, and ten to one -he'd wake up in his right mind. -So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened his -eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says -"Hellowhy, I'm at HOME How's that? Where's the raft?" -"It's all right," I says. -"And JIM?" -"The same," I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he never -noticed, but says -"Good Splendid NOW we're all right and safe Did you tell Aunty?" -I was going to say yes but she chipped in and says "About what, Sid?" -"Why, about the way the whole thing was done." -"What whole thing?" -"Why, THE whole thing. There ain't but one how we set the runaway -nigger freeme and Tom." -"Good land Set the runWhat IS the child talking about Dear, dear, -out of his head again" -"NO, I ain't out of my HEAD I know all what I'm talking about. We DID -set him freeme and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we DONE it. And we -done it elegant, too." He'd got a start, and she never checked him up, -just set and stared and stared, and let him clip along, and I see it -warn't no use for ME to put in. "Why, Aunty, it cost us a power of work -weeks of ithours and hours, every night, whilst you was all asleep. -And we had to steal candles, and the sheet, and the shirt, and your -dress, and spoons, and tin plates, and caseknives, and the warmingpan, -and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, and you can't -think what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and inscriptions, and -one thing or another, and you can't think HALF the fun it was. And we -had to make up the pictures of coffins and things, and nonnamous letters -from the robbers, and get up and down the lightningrod, and dig the hole -into the cabin, and made the rope ladder and send it in cooked up in a -pie, and send in spoons and things to work with in your apron pocket" -"Mercy sakes" -"and load up the cabin with rats and snakes and so on, for company for -Jim and then you kept Tom here so long with the butter in his hat that -you come near spiling the whole business, because the men come before we -was out of the cabin, and we had to rush, and they heard us and let drive -at us, and I got my share, and we dodged out of the path and let them go -by, and when the dogs come they warn't interested in us, but went for the -most noise, and we got our canoe, and made for the raft, and was all -safe, and Jim was a free man, and we done it all by ourselves, and WASN'T -it bully, Aunty" -"Well, I never heard the likes of it in all my born days So it was YOU, -you little rapscallions, that's been making all this trouble, and turned -everybody's wits clean inside out and scared us all most to death. I've -as good a notion as ever I had in my life to take it out o' you this very -minute. To think, here I've been, night after night, aYOU just get -well once, you young scamp, and I lay I'll tan the Old Harry out o' both -o' ye" -But Tom, he WAS so proud and joyful, he just COULDN'T hold in, and his -tongue just WENT itshe achipping in, and spitting fire all along, and -both of them going it at once, like a cat convention and she says -"WELL, you get all the enjoyment you can out of it NOW, for mind I tell -you if I catch you meddling with him again" -"Meddling with WHO?" Tom says, dropping his smile and looking surprised. -"With WHO? Why, the runaway nigger, of course. Who'd you reckon?" -Tom looks at me very grave, and says -"Tom, didn't you just tell me he was all right? Hasn't he got away?" -"HIM?" says Aunt Sally "the runaway nigger? 'Deed he hasn't. They've -got him back, safe and sound, and he's in that cabin again, on bread and -water, and loaded down with chains, till he's claimed or sold" -Tom rose square up in bed, with his eye hot, and his nostrils opening and -shutting like gills, and sings out to me -"They hain't no RIGHT to shut him up SHOVEand don't you lose a -minute. Turn him loose he ain't no slave he's as free as any cretur -that walks this earth" -"What DOES the child mean?" -"I mean every word I SAY, Aunt Sally, and if somebody don't go, I'LL go. -I've knowed him all his life, and so has Tom, there. Old Miss Watson -died two months ago, and she was ashamed she ever was going to sell him -down the river, and SAID so and she set him free in her will." -"Then what on earth did YOU want to set him free for, seeing he was -already free?" -"Well, that IS a question, I must say and just like women Why, I -wanted the ADVENTURE of it and I'd a waded neckdeep in blood to -goodness alive, AUNT POLLY" -If she warn't standing right there, just inside the door, looking as -sweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never -Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and cried -over her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, for it -was getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped out, and in -a little while Tom's Aunt Polly shook herself loose and stood there -looking across at Tom over her spectacleskind of grinding him into the -earth, you know. And then she says -"Yes, you BETTER turn y'r head awayI would if I was you, Tom." -"Oh, deary me" says Aunt Sally "IS he changed so? Why, that ain't TOM, -it's Sid Tom'sTom'swhy, where is Tom? He was here a minute ago." -"You mean where's Huck FINNthat's what you mean I reckon I hain't -raised such a scamp as my Tom all these years not to know him when I SEE -him. That WOULD be a pretty howdydo. Come out from under that bed, -Huck Finn." -So I done it. But not feeling brash. -Aunt Sally she was one of the mixedupestlooking persons I ever see -except one, and that was Uncle Silas, when he come in and they told it -all to him. It kind of made him drunk, as you may say, and he didn't -know nothing at all the rest of the day, and preached a prayermeeting -sermon that night that gave him a rattling ruputation, because the oldest -man in the world couldn't a understood it. So Tom's Aunt Polly, she told -all about who I was, and what and I had to up and tell how I was in such -a tight place that when Mrs. Phelps took me for Tom Sawyershe chipped -in and says, "Oh, go on and call me Aunt Sally, I'm used to it now, and -'tain't no need to change"that when Aunt Sally took me for Tom Sawyer I -had to stand itthere warn't no other way, and I knowed he wouldn't -mind, because it would be nuts for him, being a mystery, and he'd make an -adventure out of it, and be perfectly satisfied. And so it turned out, -and he let on to be Sid, and made things as soft as he could for me. -And his Aunt Polly she said Tom was right about old Miss Watson setting -Jim free in her will and so, sure enough, Tom Sawyer had gone and took -all that trouble and bother to set a free nigger free and I couldn't -ever understand before, until that minute and that talk, how he COULD -help a body set a nigger free with his bringingup. -Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom and -SID had come all right and safe, she says to herself -"Look at that, now I might have expected it, letting him go off that -way without anybody to watch him. So now I got to go and trapse all the -way down the river, eleven hundred mile, and find out what that creetur's -up to THIS time, as long as I couldn't seem to get any answer out of you -about it." -"Why, I never heard nothing from you," says Aunt Sally. -"Well, I wonder Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean -by Sid being here." -"Well, I never got 'em, Sis." -Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says -"You, Tom" -"WellWHAT?" he says, kind of pettish. -"Don t you what ME, you impudent thinghand out them letters." -"What letters?" -"THEM letters. I be bound, if I have to take aholt of you I'll" -"They're in the trunk. There, now. And they're just the same as they -was when I got them out of the office. I hain't looked into them, I -hain't touched them. But I knowed they'd make trouble, and I thought if -you warn't in no hurry, I'd" -"Well, you DO need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it. And I -wrote another one to tell you I was coming and I s'pose he" -"No, it come yesterday I hain't read it yet, but IT'S all right, I've -got that one." -I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn't, but I reckoned maybe it -was just as safe to not to. So I never said nothing. -CHAPTER THE LAST -THE first time I catched Tom private I asked him what was his idea, time -of the evasion?what it was he'd planned to do if the evasion worked all -right and he managed to set a nigger free that was already free before? -And he said, what he had planned in his head from the start, if we got -Jim out all safe, was for us to run him down the river on the raft, and -have adventures plumb to the mouth of the river, and then tell him about -his being free, and take him back up home on a steamboat, in style, and -pay him for his lost time, and write word ahead and get out all the -niggers around, and have them waltz him into town with a torchlight -procession and a brassband, and then he would be a hero, and so would -we. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it was. -We had Jim out of the chains in no time, and when Aunt Polly and Uncle -Silas and Aunt Sally found out how good he helped the doctor nurse Tom, -they made a heap of fuss over him, and fixed him up prime, and give him -all he wanted to eat, and a good time, and nothing to do. And we had him -up to the sickroom, and had a high talk and Tom give Jim forty dollars -for being prisoner for us so patient, and doing it up so good, and Jim -was pleased most to death, and busted out, and says -"DAH, now, Huck, what I tell you?what I tell you up dah on Jackson -islan'? I TOLE you I got a hairy breas', en what's de sign un it en I -TOLE you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich AGIN en it's come -true en heah she is DAH, now doan' talk to MEsigns is SIGNS, mine I -tell you en I knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwineter be rich agin as I's -astannin' heah dis minute" -And then Tom he talked along and talked along, and says, le's all three -slide out of here one of these nights and get an outfit, and go for -howling adventures amongst the Injuns, over in the Territory, for a -couple of weeks or two and I says, all right, that suits me, but I ain't -got no money for to buy the outfit, and I reckon I couldn't get none from -home, because it's likely pap's been back before now, and got it all away -from Judge Thatcher and drunk it up. -"No, he hain't," Tom says "it's all there yetsix thousand dollars and -more and your pap hain't ever been back since. Hadn't when I come away, -anyhow." -Jim says, kind of solemn -"He ain't acomin' back no mo', Huck." -I says -"Why, Jim?" -"Nemmine why, Huckbut he ain't comin' back no mo." -But I kept at him so at last he says -"Doan' you 'member de house dat was float'n down de river, en dey wuz a -man in dah, kivered up, en I went in en unkivered him and didn' let you -come in? Well, den, you kin git yo' money when you wants it, kase dat -wuz him." -Tom's most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watchguard -for a watch, and is always seeing what time it is, and so there ain't -nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd a -knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it, and -ain't agoing to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for the -Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me -and sivilize me, and I can't stand it. I been there before. -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, -Complete, by Mark Twain Samuel Clemens - END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUCKLEBERRY FINN - This file should be named .txt or .zip -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in -http//www.gutenberg.net/// -Produced by David Widger. Previous editions produced by Ron Burkey -and Internet Wiretap -Updated editions will replace the previous onethe old editions -will be renamed. -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -and you can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenbergtm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERGtm concept and trademark. 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You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. -Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts -eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since -These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers -Title Jane Eyre -Author Charlotte Bronte -Edition -Language English -Character set encoding ASCII -Release Date March, [eBook ] -[Most recently updated on August , ] - START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OF JANE EYRE, BY BRONTE -This eBook was produced by David Price, email ccxcoventry.ac.uk -Jane Eyre -by Charlotte Bronte -PREFACE -A preface to the first edition of "Jane Eyre" being unnecessary, -I gave none this second edition demands a few words both of -acknowledgment and miscellaneous remark. -My thanks are due in three quarters. -To the Public, for the indulgent ear it has inclined to a plain -tale with few pretensions. -To the Press, for the fair field its honest suffrage has opened to -an obscure aspirant. -To my Publishers, for the aid their tact, their energy, their -practical sense and frank liberality have afforded an unknown and -unrecommended Author. -The Press and the Public are but vague personifications for me, and -I must thank them in vague terms but my Publishers are definite -so are certain generous critics who have encouraged me as only -largehearted and highminded men know how to encourage a struggling -stranger to them, i.e., to my Publishers and the select Reviewers, -I say cordially, Gentlemen, I thank you from my heart. -Having thus acknowledged what I owe those who have aided and approved -me, I turn to another class a small one, so far as I know, but -not, therefore, to be overlooked. I mean the timorous or carping -few who doubt the tendency of such books as "Jane Eyre" in whose -eyes whatever is unusual is wrong whose ears detect in each protest -against bigotry that parent of crime an insult to piety, that -regent of God on earth. I would suggest to such doubters certain -obvious distinctions I would remind them of certain simple truths. -Conventionality is not morality. Selfrighteousness is not religion. -To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask -from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to -the Crown of Thorns. -These things and deeds are diametrically opposed they are -as distinct as is vice from virtue. Men too often confound them -they should not be confounded appearance should not be mistaken -for truth narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and -magnify a few, should not be substituted for the worldredeeming -creed of Christ. There is I repeat it a difference and it -is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the -line of separation between them. -The world may not like to see these ideas dissevered, for it has been -accustomed to blend them finding it convenient to make external -show pass for sterling worth to let whitewashed walls vouch for -clean shrines. It may hate him who dares to scrutinise and expose -to rase the gilding, and show base metal under it to penetrate -the sepulchre, and reveal charnel relics but hate as it will, it -is indebted to him. -Ahab did not like Micaiah, because he never prophesied good concerning -him, but evil probably he liked the sycophant son of Chenaannah -better yet might Ahab have escaped a bloody death, had he but -stopped his ears to flattery, and opened them to faithful counsel. -There is a man in our own days whose words are not framed to tickle -delicate ears who, to my thinking, comes before the great ones -of society, much as the son of Imlah came before the throned Kings -of Judah and Israel and who speaks truth as deep, with a power -as prophetlike and as vital a mien as dauntless and as daring. -Is the satirist of "Vanity Fair" admired in high places? I cannot -tell but I think if some of those amongst whom he hurls the Greek -fire of his sarcasm, and over whom he flashes the levinbrand -of his denunciation, were to take his warnings in time they or -their seed might yet escape a fatal RimothGilead. -Why have I alluded to this man? I have alluded to him, Reader, -because I think I see in him an intellect profounder and more unique -than his contemporaries have yet recognised because I regard him -as the first social regenerator of the day as the very master -of that working corps who would restore to rectitude the warped -system of things because I think no commentator on his writings -has yet found the comparison that suits him, the terms which rightly -characterise his talent. They say he is like Fielding they talk -of his wit, humour, comic powers. He resembles Fielding as an eagle -does a vulture Fielding could stoop on carrion, but Thackeray -never does. His wit is bright, his humour attractive, but both -bear the same relation to his serious genius that the mere lambent -sheetlightning playing under the edge of the summercloud does to -the electric deathspark hid in its womb. Finally, I have alluded -to Mr. Thackeray, because to him if he will accept the tribute -of a total stranger I have dedicated this second edition of -"JANE EYRE." -CURRER BELL. -December st, . -NOTE TO THE THIRD EDITION -I avail myself of the opportunity which a third edition of "Jane -Eyre" affords me, of again addressing a word to the Public, to -explain that my claim to the title of novelist rests on this one -work alone. If, therefore, the authorship of other works of fiction -has been attributed to me, an honour is awarded where it is not -merited and consequently, denied where it is justly due. -This explanation will serve to rectify mistakes which may already -have been made, and to prevent future errors. -CURRER BELL. -April th, . -CHAPTER I -There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had -been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the -morning but since dinner Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, -dined early the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so -sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise -was now out of the question. -I was glad of it I never liked long walks, especially on chilly -afternoons dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, -with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings -of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical -inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed. -The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round -their mama in the drawingroom she lay reclined on a sofa by the -fireside, and with her darlings about her for the time neither -quarrelling nor crying looked perfectly happy. Me, she had -dispensed from joining the group saying, "She regretted to be -under the necessity of keeping me at a distance but that until -she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, -that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable -and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner -something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were she -really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, -happy, little children." -"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked. -"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners besides, there is -something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that -manner. Be seated somewhere and until you can speak pleasantly, -remain silent." -A breakfastroom adjoined the drawingroom, I slipped in there. It -contained a bookcase I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking -care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into -the windowseat gathering up my feet, I sat crosslegged, like -a Turk and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I -was shrined in double retirement. -Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand to the -left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating -me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over -the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. -Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud near a scene of -wet lawn and stormbeat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away -wildly before a long and lamentable blast. -I returned to my book Bewick's History of British Birds the -letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking and -yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I -could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of -the haunts of seafowl of "the solitary rocks and promontories" -by them only inhabited of the coast of Norway, studded with isles -from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape -"Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, -Boils round the naked, melancholy isles -Of farthest Thule and the Atlantic surge -Pours in among the stormy Hebrides." -Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of -Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, -with "the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions -of dreary space, that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm -fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed -in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre -the multiplied rigours of extreme cold." Of these deathwhite realms -I formed an idea of my own shadowy, like all the halfcomprehended -notions that float dim through children's brains, but strangely -impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected -themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance -to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray to the -broken boat stranded on a desolate coast to the cold and ghastly -moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking. -I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, -with its inscribed headstone its gate, its two trees, its low -horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newlyrisen crescent, -attesting the hour of eventide. -The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine -phantoms. -The fiend pinning down the thief's pack behind him, I passed over -quickly it was an object of terror. -So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a -distant crowd surrounding a gallows. -Each picture told a story mysterious often to my undeveloped -understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting -as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter -evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour and when, having -brought her ironingtable to the nursery hearth, she allowed us -to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed's lace frills, and -crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages -of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads -or as at a later period I discovered from the pages of Pamela, -and Henry, Earl of Moreland. -With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy happy at least in my -way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. -The breakfastroom door opened. -"Boh Madam Mope" cried the voice of John Reed then he paused -he found the room apparently empty. -"Where the dickens is she" he continued. "Lizzy Georgy -calling to his sisters Joan is not here tell mama she is run -out into the rain bad animal" -"It is well I drew the curtain," thought I and I wished fervently -he might not discover my hidingplace nor would John Reed have -found it out himself he was not quick either of vision or conception -but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once -"She is in the windowseat, to be sure, Jack." -And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being -dragged forth by the said Jack. -"What do you want?" I asked, with awkward diffidence. -"Say, 'What do you want, Master Reed?'" was the answer. "I want -you to come here" and seating himself in an armchair, he intimated -by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him. -John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old four years older -than I, for I was but ten large and stout for his age, with a -dingy and unwholesome skin thick lineaments in a spacious visage, -heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually -at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared -eye and flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school but -his mama had taken him home for a month or two, "on account of his -delicate health." Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would -do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from -home but the mother's heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and -inclined rather to the more refined idea that John's sallowness -was owing to overapplication and, perhaps, to pining after home. -John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and -an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me not two or three -times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually -every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones -shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered -by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against -either his menaces or his inflictions the servants did not like to -offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. -Reed was blind and deaf on the subject she never saw him strike -or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very -presence, more frequently, however, behind her back. -Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair he spent -some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he -could without damaging the roots I knew he would soon strike, -and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly -appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he -read that notion in my face for, all at once, without speaking, -he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my -equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair. -"That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since," said -he, "and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for -the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat" -Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying -to it my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly -follow the insult. -"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked. -"I was reading." -"Show the book." -I returned to the window and fetched it thence. -"You have no business to take our books you are a dependent, mama -says you have no money your father left you none you ought to -beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and -eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama's expense. -Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves for they ARE mine -all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and -stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows." -I did so, not at first aware what was his intention but when -I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I -instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm not soon enough, -however the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my -head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was -sharp my terror had passed its climax other feelings succeeded. -"Wicked and cruel boy" I said. "You are like a murderer you -are like a slavedriver you are like the Roman emperors" -I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome, and had formed my opinion -of Nero, Caligula, c. Also I had drawn parallels in silence, -which I never thought thus to have declared aloud. -"What what" he cried. "Did she say that to me? Did you hear -her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won't I tell mama? but first " -He ran headlong at me I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder -he had closed with a desperate thing. I really saw in him a tyrant, -a murderer. I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle -down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering these -sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him -in frantic sort. I don't very well know what I did with my hands, -but he called me "Rat Rat" and bellowed out aloud. Aid was -near him Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who was gone -upstairs she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie -and her maid Abbot. We were parted I heard the words -"Dear dear What a fury to fly at Master John" -"Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion" -Then Mrs. Reed subjoined -"Take her away to the redroom, and lock her in there." Four hands -were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs. -CHAPTER II -I resisted all the way a new thing for me, and a circumstance -which greatly strengthened the bad opinion Bessie and Miss Abbot -were disposed to entertain of me. The fact is, I was a trifle -beside myself or rather OUT of myself, as the French would say -I was conscious that a moment's mutiny had already rendered me -liable to strange penalties, and, like any other rebel slave, I -felt resolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths. -"Hold her arms, Miss Abbot she's like a mad cat." -"For shame for shame" cried the lady'smaid. "What shocking -conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress's -son Your young master." -"Master How is he my master? Am I a servant?" -"No you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. -There, sit down, and think over your wickedness." -They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated by Mrs. -Reed, and had thrust me upon a stool my impulse was to rise from -it like a spring their two pair of hands arrested me instantly. -"If you don't sit still, you must be tied down," said Bessie. "Miss -Abbot, lend me your garters she would break mine directly." -Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature. -This preparation for bonds, and the additional ignominy it inferred, -took a little of the excitement out of me. -"Don't take them off," I cried "I will not stir." -In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by my hands. -"Mind you don't," said Bessie and when she had ascertained that -I was really subsiding, she loosened her hold of me then she and -Miss Abbot stood with folded arms, looking darkly and doubtfully -on my face, as incredulous of my sanity. -"She never did so before," at last said Bessie, turning to the -Abigail. -"But it was always in her," was the reply. "I've told Missis often -my opinion about the child, and Missis agreed with me. She's an -underhand little thing I never saw a girl of her age with so much -cover." -Bessie answered not but ere long, addressing me, she said "You -ought to be aware, Miss, that you are under obligations to Mrs. -Reed she keeps you if she were to turn you off, you would have -to go to the poorhouse." -I had nothing to say to these words they were not new to me my -very first recollections of existence included hints of the same -kind. This reproach of my dependence had become a vague singsong -in my ear very painful and crushing, but only half intelligible. -Miss Abbot joined in -"And you ought not to think yourself on an equality with the Misses -Reed and Master Reed, because Missis kindly allows you to be brought -up with them. They will have a great deal of money, and you will -have none it is your place to be humble, and to try to make -yourself agreeable to them." -"What we tell you is for your good," added Bessie, in no harsh -voice, "you should try to be useful and pleasant, then, perhaps, -you would have a home here but if you become passionate and rude, -Missis will send you away, I am sure." -"Besides," said Miss Abbot, "God will punish her He might strike -her dead in the midst of her tantrums, and then where would she go? -Come, Bessie, we will leave her I wouldn't have her heart for -anything. Say your prayers, Miss Eyre, when you are by yourself -for if you don't repent, something bad might be permitted to come -down the chimney and fetch you away." -They went, shutting the door, and locking it behind them. -The redroom was a square chamber, very seldom slept in, I might -say never, indeed, unless when a chance influx of visitors at -Gateshead Hall rendered it necessary to turn to account all the -accommodation it contained yet it was one of the largest and -stateliest chambers in the mansion. A bed supported on massive -pillars of mahogany, hung with curtains of deep red damask, stood -out like a tabernacle in the centre the two large windows, with -their blinds always drawn down, were half shrouded in festoons -and falls of similar drapery the carpet was red the table at the -foot of the bed was covered with a crimson cloth the walls were -a soft fawn colour with a blush of pink in it the wardrobe, the -toilettable, the chairs were of darkly polished old mahogany. Out -of these deep surrounding shades rose high, and glared white, the -piledup mattresses and pillows of the bed, spread with a snowy -Marseilles counterpane. Scarcely less prominent was an ample -cushioned easychair near the head of the bed, also white, with a -footstool before it and looking, as I thought, like a pale throne. -This room was chill, because it seldom had a fire it was silent, -because remote from the nursery and kitchen solemn, because it -was known to be so seldom entered. The housemaid alone came here -on Saturdays, to wipe from the mirrors and the furniture a week's -quiet dust and Mrs. Reed herself, at far intervals, visited it -to review the contents of a certain secret drawer in the wardrobe, -where were stored divers parchments, her jewelcasket, and a miniature -of her deceased husband and in those last words lies the secret -of the redroom the spell which kept it so lonely in spite of -its grandeur. -Mr. Reed had been dead nine years it was in this chamber he breathed -his last here he lay in state hence his coffin was borne by the -undertaker's men and, since that day, a sense of dreary consecration -had guarded it from frequent intrusion. -My seat, to which Bessie and the bitter Miss Abbot had left me -riveted, was a low ottoman near the marble chimneypiece the bed -rose before me to my right hand there was the high, dark wardrobe, -with subdued, broken reflections varying the gloss of its panels -to my left were the muffled windows a great lookingglass between -them repeated the vacant majesty of the bed and room. I was not -quite sure whether they had locked the door and when I dared move, -I got up and went to see. Alas yes no jail was ever more secure. -Returning, I had to cross before the lookingglass my fascinated -glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. All looked -colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality and -the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and -arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where -all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit I thought -it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, Bessie's -evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells -in moors, and appearing before the eyes of belated travellers. I -returned to my stool. -Superstition was with me at that moment but it was not yet her -hour for complete victory my blood was still warm the mood of -the revolted slave was still bracing me with its bitter vigour I -had to stem a rapid rush of retrospective thought before I quailed -to the dismal present. -All John Reed's violent tyrannies, all his sisters' proud indifference, -all his mother's aversion, all the servants' partiality, turned -up in my disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid well. Why -was I always suffering, always browbeaten, always accused, for -ever condemned? Why could I never please? Why was it useless to -try to win any one's favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, -was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid -spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. -Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls, seemed to give delight -to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. -John no one thwarted, much less punished though he twisted the -necks of the pigeons, killed the little peachicks, set the dogs -at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke -the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory he called -his mother "old girl," too sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, -similar to his own bluntly disregarded her wishes not unfrequently -tore and spoiled her silk attire and he was still "her own darling." -I dared commit no fault I strove to fulfil every duty and I was -termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, from morning to -noon, and from noon to night. -My head still ached and bled with the blow and fall I had received -no one had reproved John for wantonly striking me and because I -had turned against him to avert farther irrational violence, I was -loaded with general opprobrium. -"Unjust unjust" said my reason, forced by the agonising -stimulus into precocious though transitory power and Resolve, -equally wrought up, instigated some strange expedient to achieve -escape from insupportable oppression as running away, or, if that -could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting -myself die. -What a consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon How -all my brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection -Yet in what darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle -fought I could not answer the ceaseless inward question WHY I -thus suffered now, at the distance of I will not say how many -years, I see it clearly. -I was a discord in Gateshead Hall I was like nobody there I had -nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen -vassalage. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love -them. They were not bound to regard with affection a thing that -could not sympathise with one amongst them a heterogeneous thing, -opposed to them in temperament, in capacity, in propensities a -useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to -their pleasure a noxious thing, cherishing the germs of indignation -at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment. I know that -had I been a sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, -romping child though equally dependent and friendless Mrs. Reed -would have endured my presence more complacently her children would -have entertained for me more of the cordiality of fellowfeeling -the servants would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat -of the nursery. -Daylight began to forsake the redroom it was past four o'clock, -and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard -the rain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and -the wind howling in the grove behind the hall I grew by degrees -cold as a stone, and then my courage sank. My habitual mood of -humiliation, selfdoubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on the embers -of my decaying ire. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be -so what thought had I been but just conceiving of starving myself -to death? That certainly was a crime and was I fit to die? Or -was the vault under the chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting -bourne? In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried -and led by this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with -gathering dread. I could not remember him but I knew that he was -my own uncle my mother's brother that he had taken me when -a parentless infant to his house and that in his last moments he -had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain -me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed probably considered she -had kept this promise and so she had, I dare say, as well as her -nature would permit her but how could she really like an interloper -not of her race, and unconnected with her, after her husband's -death, by any tie? It must have been most irksome to find herself -bound by a hardwrung pledge to stand in the stead of a parent to -a strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial alien -permanently intruded on her own family group. -A singular notion dawned upon me. I doubted not never doubted -that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly -and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls -occasionally also turning a fascinated eye towards the dimly -gleaning mirror I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, -troubled in their graves by the violation of their last wishes, -revisiting the earth to punish the perjured and avenge the oppressed -and I thought Mr. Reed's spirit, harassed by the wrongs of his -sister's child, might quit its abode whether in the church vault -or in the unknown world of the departed and rise before me in -this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest -any sign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to -comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed face, bending over -me with strange pity. This idea, consolatory in theory, I felt -would be terrible if realised with all my might I endeavoured -to stifle it I endeavoured to be firm. Shaking my hair from -my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly round the dark -room at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked -myself, a ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind? -No moonlight was still, and this stirred while I gazed, it glided -up to the ceiling and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture -readily that this streak of light was, in all likelihood, a gleam -from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn but then, -prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my nerves were by -agitation, I thought the swift darting beam was a herald of some -coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew -hot a sound filled my ears, which I deemed the rushing of wings -something seemed near me I was oppressed, suffocated endurance -broke down I rushed to the door and shook the lock in desperate -effort. Steps came running along the outer passage the key turned, -Bessie and Abbot entered. -"Miss Eyre, are you ill?" said Bessie. -"What a dreadful noise it went quite through me" exclaimed -Abbot. -"Take me out Let me go into the nursery" was my cry. -"What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?" again demanded -Bessie. -"Oh I saw a light, and I thought a ghost would come." I had now -got hold of Bessie's hand, and she did not snatch it from me. -"She has screamed out on purpose," declared Abbot, in some disgust. -"And what a scream If she had been in great pain one would have -excused it, but she only wanted to bring us all here I know her -naughty tricks." -"What is all this?" demanded another voice peremptorily and Mrs. -Reed came along the corridor, her cap flying wide, her gown rustling -stormily. "Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane -Eyre should be left in the redroom till I came to her myself." -"Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma'am," pleaded Bessie. -"Let her go," was the only answer. "Loose Bessie's hand, child -you cannot succeed in getting out by these means, be assured. I -abhor artifice, particularly in children it is my duty to show -you that tricks will not answer you will now stay here an hour -longer, and it is only on condition of perfect submission and -stillness that I shall liberate you then." -"O aunt have pity Forgive me I cannot endure it -let me be punished some other way I shall be killed if " -"Silence This violence is all most repulsive" and so, no doubt, -she felt it. I was a precocious actress in her eyes she sincerely -looked on me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and -dangerous duplicity. -Bessie and Abbot having retreated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my now -frantic anguish and wild sobs, abruptly thrust me back and locked -me in, without farther parley. I heard her sweeping away and soon -after she was gone, I suppose I had a species of fit unconsciousness -closed the scene. -CHAPTER III -The next thing I remember is, waking up with a feeling as if I -had had a frightful nightmare, and seeing before me a terrible red -glare, crossed with thick black bars. I heard voices, too, speaking -with a hollow sound, and as if muffled by a rush of wind or water -agitation, uncertainty, and an allpredominating sense of terror -confused my faculties. Ere long, I became aware that some one was -handling me lifting me up and supporting me in a sitting posture, -and that more tenderly than I had ever been raised or upheld before. -I rested my head against a pillow or an arm, and felt easy. -In five minutes more the cloud of bewilderment dissolved I knew -quite well that I was in my own bed, and that the red glare was the -nursery fire. It was night a candle burnt on the table Bessie -stood at the bedfoot with a basin in her hand, and a gentleman -sat in a chair near my pillow, leaning over me. -I felt an inexpressible relief, a soothing conviction of protection -and security, when I knew that there was a stranger in the room, -an individual not belonging to Gateshead., and not related to -Mrs. Reed. Turning from Bessie though her presence was far less -obnoxious to me than that of Abbot, for instance, would have been, -I scrutinised the face of the gentleman I knew him it was Mr. -Lloyd, an apothecary, sometimes called in by Mrs. Reed when the -servants were ailing for herself and the children she employed -a physician. -"Well, who am I?" he asked. -I pronounced his name, offering him at the same time my hand he -took it, smiling and saying, "We shall do very well byandby." -Then he laid me down, and addressing Bessie, charged her to be very -careful that I was not disturbed during the night. Having given -some further directions, and intimates that he should call again -the next day, he departed to my grief I felt so sheltered and -befriended while he sat in the chair near my pillow and as he -closed the door after him, all the room darkened and my heart again -sank inexpressible sadness weighed it down. -"Do you feel as if you should sleep, Miss?" asked Bessie, rather -softly. -Scarcely dared I answer her for I feared the next sentence might -be rough. "I will try." -"Would you like to drink, or could you eat anything?" -"No, thank you, Bessie." -"Then I think I shall go to bed, for it is past twelve o'clock -but you may call me if you want anything in the night." -Wonderful civility this It emboldened me to ask a question. -"Bessie, what is the matter with me? Am I ill?" -"You fell sick, I suppose, in the redroom with crying you'll be -better soon, no doubt." -Bessie went into the housemaid's apartment, which was near. I -heard her say -"Sarah, come and sleep with me in the nursery I daren't for my -life be alone with that poor child tonight she might die it's -such a strange thing she should have that fit I wonder if she -saw anything. Missis was rather too hard." -Sarah came back with her they both went to bed they were whispering -together for halfanhour before they fell asleep. I caught scraps -of their conversation, from which I was able only too distinctly -to infer the main subject discussed. -"Something passed her, all dressed in white, and vanished" -"A great black dog behind him" "Three loud raps on the chamber -door" "A light in the churchyard just over his grave," c. c. -At last both slept the fire and the candle went out. For me, the -watches of that long night passed in ghastly wakefulness strained -by dread such dread as children only can feel. -No severe or prolonged bodily illness followed this incident -of the redroom it only gave my nerves a shock of which I feel -the reverberation to this day. Yes, Mrs. Reed, to you I owe some -fearful pangs of mental suffering, but I ought to forgive you, for -you knew not what you did while rending my heartstrings, you -thought you were only uprooting my bad propensities. -Next day, by noon, I was up and dressed, and sat wrapped in a shawl -by the nursery hearth. I felt physically weak and broken down -but my worse ailment was an unutterable wretchedness of mind a -wretchedness which kept drawing from me silent tears no sooner had -I wiped one salt drop from my cheek than another followed. Yet, -I thought, I ought to have been happy, for none of the Reeds were -there, they were all gone out in the carriage with their mama. -Abbot, too, was sewing in another room, and Bessie, as she moved -hither and thither, putting away toys and arranging drawers, addressed -to me every now and then a word of unwonted kindness. This state -of things should have been to me a paradise of peace, accustomed -as I was to a life of ceaseless reprimand and thankless fagging -but, in fact, my racked nerves were now in such a state that no -calm could soothe, and no pleasure excite them agreeably. -Bessie had been down into the kitchen, and she brought up with -her a tart on a certain brightly painted china plate, whose bird -of paradise, nestling in a wreath of convolvuli and rosebuds, had -been wont to stir in me a most enthusiastic sense of admiration -and which plate I had often petitioned to be allowed to take in my -hand in order to examine it more closely, but had always hitherto -been deemed unworthy of such a privilege. This precious vessel -was now placed on my knee, and I was cordially invited to eat the -circlet of delicate pastry upon it. Vain favour coming, like -most other favours long deferred and often wished for, too late -I could not eat the tart and the plumage of the bird, the tints -of the flowers, seemed strangely faded I put both plate and tart -away. Bessie asked if I would have a book the word BOOK acted as -a transient stimulus, and I begged her to fetch Gulliver's Travels -from the library. This book I had again and again perused with -delight. I considered it a narrative of facts, and discovered in -it a vein of interest deeper than what I found in fairy tales for -as to the elves, having sought them in vain among foxglove leaves -and bells, under mushrooms and beneath the groundivy mantling old -wallnooks, I had at length made up my mind to the sad truth, that -they were all gone out of England to some savage country where -the woods were wilder and thicker, and the population more scant -whereas, Lilliput and Brobdignag being, in my creed, solid parts of -the earth's surface, I doubted not that I might one day, by taking -a long voyage, see with my own eyes the little fields, houses, and -trees, the diminutive people, the tiny cows, sheep, and birds of -the one realm and the cornfields foresthigh, the mighty mastiffs, -the monster cats, the towerlike men and women, of the other. -Yet, when this cherished volume was now placed in my hand when -I turned over its leaves, and sought in its marvellous pictures -the charm I had, till now, never failed to find all was eerie -and dreary the giants were gaunt goblins, the pigmies malevolent -and fearful imps, Gulliver a most desolate wanderer in most dread -and dangerous regions. I closed the book, which I dared no longer -peruse, and put it on the table, beside the untasted tart. -Bessie had now finished dusting and tidying the room, and having -washed her hands, she opened a certain little drawer, full -of splendid shreds of silk and satin, and began making a new -bonnet for Georgiana's doll. Meantime she sang her song was -"In the days when we went gipsying, A long time ago." -I had often heard the song before, and always with lively delight -for Bessie had a sweet voice, at least, I thought so. But -now, though her voice was still sweet, I found in its melody an -indescribable sadness. Sometimes, preoccupied with her work, she -sang the refrain very low, very lingeringly "A long time ago" came -out like the saddest cadence of a funeral hymn. She passed into -another ballad, this time a really doleful one. -"My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary Long is the way, -and the mountains are wild Soon will the twilight close moonless -and dreary Over the path of the poor orphan child. -"Why did they send me so far and so lonely, Up where the moors -spread and grey rocks are piled? Men are hardhearted, and kind -angels only Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child. -"Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing, Clouds there are -none, and clear stars beam mild, God, in His mercy, protection is -showing, Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child. -"Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing, Or stray in -the marshes, by false lights beguiled, Still will my Father, with -promise and blessing, Take to His bosom the poor orphan child. -"There is a thought that for strength should avail me, Though both -of shelter and kindred despoiled Heaven is a home, and a rest will -not fail me God is a friend to the poor orphan child." -"Come, Miss Jane, don't cry," said Bessie as she finished. She -might as well have said to the fire, "don't burn" but how could -she divine the morbid suffering to which I was a prey? In the -course of the morning Mr. Lloyd came again. -"What, already up" said he, as he entered the nursery. "Well, -nurse, how is she?" -Bessie answered that I was doing very well. -"Then she ought to look more cheerful. Come here, Miss Jane your -name is Jane, is it not?" -"Yes, sir, Jane Eyre." -"Well, you have been crying, Miss Jane Eyre can you tell me what -about? Have you any pain?" -"No, sir." -"Oh I daresay she is crying because she could not go out with -Missis in the carriage," interposed Bessie. -"Surely not why, she is too old for such pettishness." -I thought so too and my selfesteem being wounded by the false -charge, I answered promptly, "I never cried for such a thing in -my life I hate going out in the carriage. I cry because I am -miserable." -"Oh fie, Miss" said Bessie. -The good apothecary appeared a little puzzled. I was standing -before him he fixed his eyes on me very steadily his eyes were -small and grey not very bright, but I dare say I should think them -shrewd now he had a hardfeatured yet goodnatured looking -face. Having considered me at leisure, he said -"What made you ill yesterday?" -"She had a fall," said Bessie, again putting in her word. -"Fall why, that is like a baby again Can't she manage to walk -at her age? She must be eight or nine years old." -"I was knocked down," was the blunt explanation, jerked out of me -by another pang of mortified pride "but that did not make me ill," -I added while Mr. Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff. -As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket, a loud bell rang -for the servants' dinner he knew what it was. "That's for you, -nurse," said he "you can go down I'll give Miss Jane a lecture -till you come back." -Bessie would rather have stayed, but she was obliged to go, because -punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gateshead Hall. -"The fall did not make you ill what did, then?" pursued Mr. Lloyd -when Bessie was gone. -"I was shut up in a room where there is a ghost till after dark." -I saw Mr. Lloyd smile and frown at the same time. -"Ghost What, you are a baby after all You are afraid of ghosts?" -"Of Mr. Reed's ghost I am he died in that room, and was laid out -there. Neither Bessie nor any one else will go into it at night, -if they can help it and it was cruel to shut me up alone without -a candle, so cruel that I think I shall never forget it." -"Nonsense And is it that makes you so miserable? Are you afraid -now in daylight?" -"No but night will come again before long and besides, I am -unhappy, very unhappy, for other things." -"What other things? Can you tell me some of them?" -How much I wished to reply fully to this question How difficult -it was to frame any answer Children can feel, but they cannot -analyse their feelings and if the analysis is partially effected -in thought, they know not how to express the result of the process -in words. Fearful, however, of losing this first and only opportunity -of relieving my grief by imparting it, I, after a disturbed pause, -contrived to frame a meagre, though, as far as it went, true -response. -"For one thing, I have no father or mother, brothers or sisters." -"You have a kind aunt and cousins." -Again I paused then bunglingly enounced -"But John Reed knocked me down, and my aunt shut me up in the red -room." -Mr. Lloyd a second time produced his snuffbox. -"Don't you think Gateshead Hall a very beautiful house?" asked -he. "Are you not very thankful to have such a fine place to live -at?" -"It is not my house, sir and Abbot says I have less right to be -here than a servant." -"Pooh you can't be silly enough to wish to leave such a splendid -place?" -"If I had anywhere else to go, I should be glad to leave it but -I can never get away from Gateshead till I am a woman." -"Perhaps you may who knows? Have you any relations besides Mrs. -Reed?" -"I think not, sir." -"None belonging to your father?" -"I don't know. I asked Aunt Reed once, and she said possibly -I might have some poor, low relations called Eyre, but she knew -nothing about them." -"If you had such, would you like to go to them?" -I reflected. Poverty looks grim to grown people still more -so to children they have not much idea of industrious, working, -respectable poverty they think of the word only as connected with -ragged clothes, scanty food, fireless grates, rude manners, and -debasing vices poverty for me was synonymous with degradation. -"No I should not like to belong to poor people," was my reply. -"Not even if they were kind to you?" -I shook my head I could not see how poor people had the means of -being kind and then to learn to speak like them, to adopt their -manners, to be uneducated, to grow up like one of the poor women I -saw sometimes nursing their children or washing their clothes at -the cottage doors of the village of Gateshead no, I was not heroic -enough to purchase liberty at the price of caste. -"But are your relatives so very poor? Are they working people?" -"I cannot tell Aunt. Reed says if I have any, they must be a -beggarly set I should not like to go a begging." -"Would you like to go to school?" -Again I reflected I scarcely knew what school was Bessie -sometimes spoke of it as a place where young ladies sat in the stocks, -wore backboards, and were expected to be exceedingly genteel and -precise John Reed hated his school, and abused his master but -John Reed's tastes were no rule for mine, and if Bessie's accounts -of schooldiscipline gathered from the young ladies of a family -where she had lived before coming to Gateshead were somewhat -appalling, her details of certain accomplishments attained by -these same young ladies were, I thought, equally attractive. She -boasted of beautiful paintings of landscapes and flowers by them -executed of songs they could sing and pieces they could play, of -purses they could net, of French books they could translate till -my spirit was moved to emulation as I listened. Besides, school -would be a complete change it implied a long journey, an entire -separation from Gateshead, an entrance into a new life. -"I should indeed like to go to school," was the audible conclusion -of my musings. -"Well, well who knows what may happen?" said Mr. Lloyd, as he got -up. "The child ought to have change of air and scene," he added, -speaking to himself "nerves not in a good state." -Bessie now returned at the same moment the carriage was heard -rolling up the gravelwalk. -"Is that your mistress, nurse?" asked Mr. Lloyd. "I should like -to speak to her before I go." -Bessie invited him to walk into the breakfastroom, and led the way -out. In the interview which followed between him and Mrs. Reed, -I presume, from afteroccurrences, that the apothecary ventured to -recommend my being sent to school and the recommendation was no -doubt readily enough adopted for as Abbot said, in discussing the -subject with Bessie when both sat sewing in the nursery one night, -after I was in bed, and, as they thought, asleep, "Missis was, she -dared say, glad enough to get rid of such a tiresome, ill conditioned -child, who always looked as if she were watching everybody, and -scheming plots underhand." Abbot, I think, gave me credit for -being a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes. -On that same occasion I learned, for the first time, from Miss -Abbot's communications to Bessie, that my father had been a poor -clergyman that my mother had married him against the wishes of her -friends, who considered the match beneath her that my grandfather -Reed was so irritated at her disobedience, he cut her off without -a shilling that after my mother and father had been married a -year, the latter caught the typhus fever while visiting among the -poor of a large manufacturing town where his curacy was situated, -and where that disease was then prevalent that my mother took -the infection from him, and both died within a month of each other. -Bessie, when she heard this narrative, sighed and said, "Poor Miss -Jane is to be pitied, too, Abbot." -"Yes," responded Abbot "if she were a nice, pretty child, one might -compassionate her forlornness but one really cannot care for such -a little toad as that." -"Not a great deal, to be sure," agreed Bessie "at any rate, a beauty -like Miss Georgiana would be more moving in the same condition." -"Yes, I doat on Miss Georgiana" cried the fervent Abbot. "Little -darling with her long curls and her blue eyes, and such a sweet -colour as she has just as if she were painted Bessie, I could -fancy a Welsh rabbit for supper." -"So could I with a roast onion. Come, we'll go down." They -went. -CHAPTER IV -From my discourse with Mr. Lloyd, and from the above reported -conference between Bessie and Abbot, I gathered enough of hope to -suffice as a motive for wishing to get well a change seemed near, -I desired and waited it in silence. It tarried, however days -and weeks passed I had regained my normal state of health, but -no new allusion was made to the subject over which I brooded. Mrs. -Reed surveyed me at times with a severe eye, but seldom addressed -me since my illness, she had drawn a more marked line of separation -than ever between me and her own children appointing me a small -closet to sleep in by myself, condemning me to take my meals -alone, and pass all my time in the nursery, while my cousins were -constantly in the drawingroom. Not a hint, however, did she drop -about sending me to school still I felt an instinctive certainty -that she would not long endure me under the same roof with her -for her glance, now more than ever, when turned on me, expressed -an insuperable and rooted aversion. -Eliza and Georgiana, evidently acting according to orders, spoke -to me as little as possible John thrust his tongue in his cheek -whenever he saw me, and once attempted chastisement but as I -instantly turned against him, roused by the same sentiment of deep -ire and desperate revolt which had stirred my corruption before, he -thought it better to desist, and ran from me tittering execrations, -and vowing I had burst his nose. I had indeed levelled at that -prominent feature as hard a blow as my knuckles could inflict -and when I saw that either that or my look daunted him, I had the -greatest inclination to follow up my advantage to purpose but he was -already with his mama. I heard him in a blubbering tone commence -the tale of how "that nasty Jane Eyre" had flown at him -like a mad cat he was stopped rather harshly -"Don't talk to me about her, John I told you not to go near her -she is not worthy of notice I do not choose that either you or -your sisters should associate with her." -Here, leaning over the banister, I cried out suddenly, -and without at all deliberating on my words -"They are not fit to associate with me." -Mrs. Reed was rather a stout woman but, on hearing this strange -and audacious declaration, she ran nimbly up the stair, swept me -like a whirlwind into the nursery, and crushing me down on the edge -of my crib, dared me in an emphatic voice to rise from that place, -or utter one syllable during the remainder of the day. -"What would Uncle Reed say to you, if he were alive?" was my -scarcely voluntary demand. I say scarcely voluntary, for it seemed -as if my tongue pronounced words without my will consenting to their -utterance something spoke out of me over which I had no control. -"What?" said Mrs. Reed under her breath her usually cold composed -grey eye became troubled with a look like fear she took her hand -from my arm, and gazed at me as if she really did not know whether -I were child or fiend. I was now in for it. -"My Uncle Reed is in heaven, and can see all you do and think and -so can papa and mama they know how you shut me up all day long, -and how you wish me dead." -Mrs. Reed soon rallied her spirits she shook me most soundly, -she boxed both my ears, and then left me without a word. Bessie -supplied the hiatus by a homily of an hour's length, in which she -proved beyond a doubt that I was the most wicked and abandoned child -ever reared under a roof. I half believed her for I felt indeed -only bad feelings surging in my breast. -November, December, and half of January passed away. Christmas -and the New Year had been celebrated at Gateshead with the usual -festive cheer presents had been interchanged, dinners and evening -parties given. From every enjoyment I was, of course, excluded my -share of the gaiety consisted in witnessing the daily apparelling -of Eliza and Georgiana, and seeing them descend to the drawingroom, -dressed out in thin muslin frocks and scarlet sashes, with hair -elaborately ringletted and afterwards, in listening to the sound -of the piano or the harp played below, to the passing to and fro -of the butler and footman, to the jingling of glass and china as -refreshments were handed, to the broken hum of conversation as the -drawingroom door opened and closed. When tired of this occupation, -I would retire from the stairhead to the solitary and silent nursery -there, though somewhat sad, I was not miserable. To speak truth, -I had not the least wish to go into company, for in company I was -very rarely noticed and if Bessie had but been kind and companionable, -I should have deemed it a treat to spend the evenings quietly with -her, instead of passing them under the formidable eye of Mrs. Reed, -in a room full of ladies and gentlemen. But Bessie, as soon as -she had dressed her young ladies, used to take herself off to the -lively regions of the kitchen and housekeeper's room, generally -bearing the candle along with her. I then sat with my doll on my -knee till the fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make -sure that nothing worse than myself haunted the shadowy room and -when the embers sank to a dull red, I undressed hastily, tugging -at knots and strings as I best might, and sought shelter from cold -and darkness in my crib. To this crib I always took my doll human -beings must love something, and, in the dearth of worthier objects -of affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cherishing -a faded graven image, shabby as a miniature scarecrow. It puzzles -me now to remember with what absurd sincerity I doated on this -little toy, half fancying it alive and capable of sensation. I -could not sleep unless it was folded in my nightgown and when it -lay there safe and warm, I was comparatively happy, believing it -to be happy likewise. -Long did the hours seem while I waited the departure of the company, and -listened for the sound of Bessie's step on the stairs sometimes -she would come up in the interval to seek her thimble or her -scissors, or perhaps to bring me something by way of supper a -bun or a cheesecake then she would sit on the bed while I ate -it, and when I had finished, she would tuck the clothes round me, -and twice she kissed me, and said, "Good night, Miss Jane." When -thus gentle, Bessie seemed to me the best, prettiest, kindest being -in the world and I wished most intensely that she would always -be so pleasant and amiable, and never push me about, or scold, or -task me unreasonably, as she was too often wont to do. Bessie Lee -must, I think, have been a girl of good natural capacity, for she -was smart in all she did, and had a remarkable knack of narrative -so, at least, I judge from the impression made on me by her nursery -tales. She was pretty too, if my recollections of her face and -person are correct. I remember her as a slim young woman, with black -hair, dark eyes, very nice features, and good, clear complexion -but she had a capricious and hasty temper, and indifferent ideas -of principle or justice still, such as she was, I preferred her -to any one else at Gateshead Hall. -It was the fifteenth of January, about nine o'clock in the morning -Bessie was gone down to breakfast my cousins had not yet been -summoned to their mama Eliza was putting on her bonnet and warm -gardencoat to go and feed her poultry, an occupation of which she -was fond and not less so of selling the eggs to the housekeeper -and hoarding up the money she thus obtained. She had a turn for -traffic, and a marked propensity for saving shown not only in the -vending of eggs and chickens, but also in driving hard bargains -with the gardener about flowerroots, seeds, and slips of plants -that functionary having orders from Mrs. Reed to buy of his young -lady all the products of her parterre she wished to sell and -Eliza would have sold the hair off her head if she could have made -a handsome profit thereby. As to her money, she first secreted -it in odd corners, wrapped in a rag or an old curlpaper but some -of these hoards having been discovered by the housemaid, Eliza, -fearful of one day losing her valued treasure, consented to intrust -it to her mother, at a usurious rate of interest fifty or sixty -per cent. which interest she exacted every quarter, keeping her -accounts in a little book with anxious accuracy. -Georgiana sat on a high stool, dressing her hair at the glass, and -interweaving her curls with artificial flowers and faded feathers, -of which she had found a store in a drawer in the attic. I was -making my bed, having received strict orders from Bessie to get it -arranged before she returned for Bessie now frequently employed me -as a sort of undernurserymaid, to tidy the room, dust the chairs, -c.. Having spread the quilt and folded my nightdress, I went -to the windowseat to put in order some picturebooks and doll's -house furniture scattered there an abrupt command from Georgiana -to let her playthings alone for the tiny chairs and mirrors, the -fairy plates and cups, were her property stopped my proceedings -and then, for lack of other occupation, I fell to breathing on the -frostflowers with which the window was fretted, and thus clearing -a space in the glass through which I might look out on the grounds, -where all was still and petrified under the influence of a hard -frost. -From this window were visible the porter's lodge and the carriage -road, and just as I had dissolved so much of the silverwhite foliage -veiling the panes as left room to look out, I saw the gates thrown -open and a carriage roll through. I watched it ascending the drive -with indifference carriages often came to Gateshead, but none ever -brought visitors in whom I was interested it stopped in front of -the house, the doorbell rang loudly, the newcomer was admitted. -All this being nothing to me, my vacant attention soon found livelier -attraction in the spectacle of a little hungry robin, which came and -chirruped on the twigs of the leafless cherrytree nailed against -the wall near the casement. The remains of my breakfast of bread -and milk stood on the table, and having crumbled a morsel of roll, -I was tugging at the sash to put out the crumbs on the window -sill, when Bessie came running upstairs into the nursery. -"Miss Jane, take off your pinafore what are you doing there? Have -you washed your hands and face this morning?" I gave another tug -before I answered, for I wanted the bird to be secure of its bread -the sash yielded I scattered the crumbs, some on the stone sill, -some on the cherrytree bough, then, closing the window, I replied -"No, Bessie I have only just finished dusting." -"Troublesome, careless child and what are you doing now? You -look quite red, as if you had been about some mischief what were -you opening the window for?" -I was spared the trouble of answering, for Bessie seemed in too great -a hurry to listen to explanations she hauled me to the washstand, -inflicted a merciless, but happily brief scrub on my face and hands -with soap, water, and a coarse towel disciplined my head with a -bristly brush, denuded me of my pinafore, and then hurrying me to -the top of the stairs, bid me go down directly, as I was wanted in -the breakfastroom. -I would have asked who wanted me I would have demanded if -Mrs. Reed was there but Bessie was already gone, and had closed -the nurserydoor upon me. I slowly descended. For nearly three -months, I had never been called to Mrs. Reed's presence restricted -so long to the nursery, the breakfast, dining, and drawingrooms -were become for me awful regions, on which it dismayed me to intrude. -I now stood in the empty hall before me was the breakfastroom -door, and I stopped, intimidated and trembling. What a miserable -little poltroon had fear, engendered of unjust punishment, made of -me in those days I feared to return to the nursery, and feared -to go forward to the parlour ten minutes I stood in agitated -hesitation the vehement ringing of the breakfastroom bell decided -me I MUST enter. -"Who could want me?" I asked inwardly, as with both hands I turned -the stiff doorhandle, which, for a second or two, resisted my -efforts. "What should I see besides Aunt Reed in the apartment? -a man or a woman?" The handle turned, the door unclosed, -and passing through and curtseying low, I looked up at a black -pillar such, at least, appeared to me, at first sight, the -straight, narrow, sableclad shape standing erect on the rug the -grim face at the top was like a carved mask, placed above the shaft -by way of capital. -Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside she made a -signal to me to approach I did so, and she introduced me to the -stony stranger with the words "This is the little girl respecting -whom I applied to you." -HE, for it was a man, turned his head slowly towards where I stood, -and having examined me with the two inquisitivelooking grey eyes -which twinkled under a pair of bushy brows, said solemnly, and in -a bass voice, "Her size is small what is her age?" -"Ten years." -"So much?" was the doubtful answer and he prolonged his scrutiny -for some minutes. Presently he addressed me "Your name, little -girl?" -"Jane Eyre, sir." -In uttering these words I looked up he seemed to me a tall gentleman -but then I was very little his features were large, and they and -all the lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim. -"Well, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?" -Impossible to reply to this in the affirmative my little world -held a contrary opinion I was silent. Mrs. Reed answered for me -by an expressive shake of the head, adding soon, "Perhaps the less -said on that subject the better, Mr. Brocklehurst." -"Sorry indeed to hear it she and I must have some talk" and -bending from the perpendicular, he installed his person in the arm -chair opposite Mrs. Reed's. "Come here," he said. -I stepped across the rug he placed me square and straight before -him. What a face he had, now that it was almost on a level -with mine what a great nose and what a mouth and what large -prominent teeth -"No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a -naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?" -"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. -"And what is hell? Can you tell me that?" -"A pit full of fire." -"And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there -for ever?" -"No, sir." -"What must you do to avoid it?" -I deliberated a moment my answer, when it did come, was objectionable -"I must keep in good health, and not die." -"How can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die -daily. I buried a little child of five years old only a day or -two since, a good little child, whose soul is now in heaven. -It is to be feared the same could not be said of you were you to -be called hence." -Not being in a condition to remove his doubt, I only cast my eyes -down on the two large feet planted on the rug, and sighed, wishing -myself far enough away. -"I hope that sigh is from the heart, and that you repent of ever -having been the occasion of discomfort to your excellent benefactress." -"Benefactress benefactress" said I inwardly "they all call -Mrs. Reed my benefactress if so, a benefactress is a disagreeable -thing." -"Do you say your prayers night and morning?" continued my -interrogator. -"Yes, sir." -"Do you read your Bible?" -"Sometimes." -"With pleasure? Are you fond of it?" -"I like Revelations, and the book of Daniel, and Genesis and Samuel, -and a little bit of Exodus, and some parts of Kings and Chronicles, -and Job and Jonah." -"And the Psalms? I hope you like them?" -"No, sir." -"No? oh, shocking I have a little boy, younger than you, who -knows six Psalms by heart and when you ask him which he would -rather have, a gingerbreadnut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to -learn, he says 'Oh the verse of a Psalm angels sing Psalms' -says he, 'I wish to be a little angel here below' he then gets -two nuts in recompense for his infant piety." -"Psalms are not interesting," I remarked. -"That proves you have a wicked heart and you must pray to God to -change it to give you a new and clean one to take away your -heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." -I was about to propound a question, touching the manner in which -that operation of changing my heart was to be performed, when Mrs. -Reed interposed, telling me to sit down she then proceeded to -carry on the conversation herself. -"Mr. Brocklehurst, I believe I intimated in the letter which I -wrote to you three weeks ago, that this little girl has not quite -the character and disposition I could wish should you admit her -into Lowood school, I should be glad if the superintendent and -teachers were requested to keep a strict eye on her, and, above -all, to guard against her worst fault, a tendency to deceit. I -mention this in your hearing, Jane, that you may not attempt to -impose on Mr. Brocklehurst." -Well might I dread, well might I dislike Mrs. Reed for it was -her nature to wound me cruelly never was I happy in her presence -however carefully I obeyed, however strenuously I strove to please -her, my efforts were still repulsed and repaid by such sentences -as the above. Now, uttered before a stranger, the accusation cut -me to the heart I dimly perceived that she was already obliterating -hope from the new phase of existence which she destined me to -enter I felt, though I could not have expressed the feeling, that -she was sowing aversion and unkindness along my future path I saw -myself transformed under Mr. Brocklehurst's eye into an artful, -noxious child, and what could I do to remedy the injury? -"Nothing, indeed," thought I, as I struggled to repress a sob, and -hastily wiped away some tears, the impotent evidences of my anguish. -"Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child," said Mr. Brocklehurst -"it is akin to falsehood, and all liars will have their portion in -the lake burning with fire and brimstone she shall, however, be -watched, Mrs. Reed. I will speak to Miss Temple and the teachers." -"I should wish her to be brought up in a manner suiting her prospects," -continued my benefactress "to be made useful, to be kept humble -as for the vacations, she will, with your permission, spend them -always at Lowood." -"Your decisions are perfectly judicious, madam," returned Mr. -Brocklehurst. "Humility is a Christian grace, and one peculiarly -appropriate to the pupils of Lowood I, therefore, direct that -especial care shall be bestowed on its cultivation amongst them. -I have studied how best to mortify in them the worldly sentiment -of pride and, only the other day, I had a pleasing proof of my -success. My second daughter, Augusta, went with her mama to visit -the school, and on her return she exclaimed 'Oh, dear papa, -how quiet and plain all the girls at Lowood look, with their hair -combed behind their ears, and their long pinafores, and those little -holland pockets outside their frocks they are almost like poor -people's children and,' said she, 'they looked at my dress and -mama's, as if they had never seen a silk gown before.'" -"This is the state of things I quite approve," returned Mrs. -Reed "had I sought all England over, I could scarcely have found -a system more exactly fitting a child like Jane Eyre. Consistency, -my dear Mr. Brocklehurst I advocate consistency in all things." -"Consistency, madam, is the first of Christian duties and it has -been observed in every arrangement connected with the establishment -of Lowood plain fare, simple attire, unsophisticated accommodations, -hardy and active habits such is the order of the day in the house -and its inhabitants." -"Quite right, sir. I may then depend upon this child being received -as a pupil at Lowood, and there being trained in conformity to her -position and prospects?" -"Madam, you may she shall be placed in that nursery of chosen -plants, and I trust she will show herself grateful for the inestimable -privilege of her election." -"I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst for, -I assure you, I feel anxious to be relieved of a responsibility -that was becoming too irksome." -"No doubt, no doubt, madam and now I wish you good morning. I -shall return to Brocklehurst Hall in the course of a week or two -my good friend, the Archdeacon, will not permit me to leave him -sooner. I shall send Miss Temple notice that she is to expect a -new girl, so that there will he no difficulty about receiving her. -Goodbye." -"Goodbye, Mr. Brocklehurst remember me to Mrs. and Miss Brocklehurst, -and to Augusta and Theodore, and Master Broughton Brocklehurst." -"I will, madam. Little girl, here is a book entitled the 'Child's -Guide,' read it with prayer, especially that part containing 'An -account of the awfully sudden death of Martha G , a naughty child -addicted to falsehood and deceit.'" -With these words Mr. Brocklehurst put into my hand a thin pamphlet -sewn in a cover, and having rung for his carriage, he departed. -Mrs. Reed and I were left alone some minutes passed in silence -she was sewing, I was watching her. Mrs. Reed might be at that -time some six or seven and thirty she was a woman of robust frame, -squareshouldered and stronglimbed, not tall, and, though stout, -not obese she had a somewhat large face, the under jaw being -much developed and very solid her brow was low, her chin large and -prominent, mouth and nose sufficiently regular under her light -eyebrows glimmered an eye devoid of ruth her skin was dark and -opaque, her hair nearly flaxen her constitution was sound as a bell -illness never came near her she was an exact, clever manager -her household and tenantry were thoroughly under her control -her children only at times defied her authority and laughed it to -scorn she dressed well, and had a presence and port calculated to -set off handsome attire. -Sitting on a low stool, a few yards from her armchair, I examined -her figure I perused her features. In my hand I held the -tract containing the sudden death of the Liar, to which narrative -my attention had been pointed as to an appropriate warning. What -had just passed what Mrs. Reed had said concerning me to Mr. -Brocklehurst the whole tenor of their conversation, was recent, -raw, and stinging in my mind I had felt every word as acutely as -I had heard it plainly, and a passion of resentment fomented now -within me. -Mrs. Reed looked up from her work her eye settled on mine, her -fingers at the same time suspended their nimble movements. -"Go out of the room return to the nursery," was her mandate. My -look or something else must have struck her as offensive, for she -spoke with extreme though suppressed irritation. I got up, I went -to the door I came back again I walked to the window, across the -room, then close up to her. -SPEAK I must I had been trodden on severely, and MUST turn but -how? What strength had I to dart retaliation at my antagonist? -I gathered my energies and launched them in this blunt sentence -"I am not deceitful if I were, I should say I loved you but I -declare I do not love you I dislike you the worst of anybody in -the world except John Reed and this book about the liar, you may -give to your girl, Georgiana, for it is she who tells lies, and -not I." -Mrs. Reed's hands still lay on her work inactive her eye of ice -continued to dwell freezingly on mine. -"What more have you to say?" she asked, rather in the tone in -which a person might address an opponent of adult age than such as -is ordinarily used to a child. -That eye of hers, that voice stirred every antipathy I had. -Shaking from head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, -I continued -"I am glad you are no relation of mine I will never call you -aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to see you when -I am grown up and if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you -treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and -that you treated me with miserable cruelty." -"How dare you affirm that, Jane Eyre?" -"How dare I, Mrs. Reed? How dare I? Because it is the TRUTH. You -think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love -or kindness but I cannot live so and you have no pity. I shall -remember how you thrust me back roughly and violently thrust -me back into the redroom, and locked me up there, to my dying -day though I was in agony though I cried out, while suffocating -with distress, 'Have mercy Have mercy, Aunt Reed' And that -punishment you made me suffer because your wicked boy struck me -knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody who asks me -questions, this exact tale. People think you a good woman, but -you are bad, hard hearted. YOU are deceitful" -Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, -with the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt. It -seemed as if an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled -out into unhopedfor liberty. Not without cause was this sentiment -Mrs. Reed looked frightened her work had slipped from her knee -she was lifting up her hands, rocking herself to and fro, and even -twisting her face as if she would cry. -"Jane, you are under a mistake what is the matter with you? Why -do you tremble so violently? Would you like to drink some water?" -"No, Mrs. Reed." -"Is there anything else you wish for, Jane? I assure you, I desire -to be your friend." -"Not you. You told Mr. Brocklehurst I had a bad character, a -deceitful disposition and I'll let everybody at Lowood know what -you are, and what you have done." -"Jane, you don't understand these things children must be corrected -for their faults." -"Deceit is not my fault" I cried out in a savage, high voice. -"But you are passionate, Jane, that you must allow and now return -to the nursery there's a dear and lie down a little." -"I am not your dear I cannot lie down send me to school soon, -Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here." -"I will indeed send her to school soon," murmured Mrs. Reed sotto -voce and gathering up her work, she abruptly quitted the apartment. -I was left there alone winner of the field. It was the hardest -battle I had fought, and the first victory I had gained I stood -awhile on the rug, where Mr. Brocklehurst had stood, and I enjoyed -my conqueror's solitude. First, I smiled to myself and felt -elate but this fierce pleasure subsided in me as fast as did the -accelerated throb of my pulses. A child cannot quarrel with its -elders, as I had done cannot give its furious feelings uncontrolled -play, as I had given mine, without experiencing afterwards the pang -of remorse and the chill of reaction. A ridge of lighted heath, -alive, glancing, devouring, would have been a meet emblem of my -mind when I accused and menaced Mrs. Reed the same ridge, black -and blasted after the flames are dead, would have represented as -meetly my subsequent condition, when halfanhour's silence and -reflection had shown me the madness of my conduct, and the dreariness -of my hated and hating position. -Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time as aromatic -wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy its afterflavour, -metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned. -Willingly would I now have gone and asked Mrs. Reed's pardon but -I knew, partly from experience and partly from instinct, that was -the way to make her repulse me with double scorn, thereby reexciting -every turbulent impulse of my nature. -I would fain exercise some better faculty than that of fierce -speaking fain find nourishment for some less fiendish feeling than -that of sombre indignation. I took a book some Arabian tales -I sat down and endeavoured to read. I could make no sense of -the subject my own thoughts swam always between me and the page -I had usually found fascinating. I opened the glassdoor in the -breakfastroom the shrubbery was quite still the black frost -reigned, unbroken by sun or breeze, through the grounds. I covered -my head and arms with the skirt of my frock, and went out to walk -in a part of the plantation which was quite sequestrated but I -found no pleasure in the silent trees, the falling fircones, the -congealed relics of autumn, russet leaves, swept by past winds in -heaps, and now stiffened together. I leaned against a gate, and -looked into an empty field where no sheep were feeding, where the -short grass was nipped and blanched. It was a very grey day a -most opaque sky, "onding on snaw," canopied all thence flakes felt -it intervals, which settled on the hard path and on the hoary lea -without melting. I stood, a wretched child enough, whispering to -myself over and over again, "What shall I do? what shall I do?" -All at once I heard a clear voice call, "Miss Jane where are you? -Come to lunch" -It was Bessie, I knew well enough but I did not stir her light -step came tripping down the path. -"You naughty little thing" she said. "Why don't you come when -you are called?" -Bessie's presence, compared with the thoughts over which I had been -brooding, seemed cheerful even though, as usual, she was somewhat -cross. The fact is, after my conflict with and victory over Mrs. -Reed, I was not disposed to care much for the nursemaid's transitory -anger and I WAS disposed to bask in her youthful lightness of -heart. I just put my two arms round her and said, "Come, Bessie -don't scold." -The action was more frank and fearless than any I was habituated -to indulge in somehow it pleased her. -"You are a strange child, Miss Jane," she said, as she looked down -at me "a little roving, solitary thing and you are going to -school, I suppose?" -I nodded. -"And won't you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?" -"What does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me." -"Because you're such a queer, frightened, shy little thing. You -should be bolder." -"What to get more knocks?" -"Nonsense But you are rather put upon, that's certain. My mother -said, when she came to see me last week, that she would not like -a little one of her own to be in your place. Now, come in, and -I've some good news for you." -"I don't think you have, Bessie." -"Child what do you mean? What sorrowful eyes you fix on me -Well, but Missis and the young ladies and Master John are going -out to tea this afternoon, and you shall have tea with me. I'll -ask cook to bake you a little cake, and then you shall help me to -look over your drawers for I am soon to pack your trunk. Missis -intends you to leave Gateshead in a day or two, and you shall choose -what toys you like to take with you." -"Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go." -"Well, I will but mind you are a very good girl, and don't be -afraid of me. Don't start when I chance to speak rather sharply -it's so provoking." -"I don't think I shall ever be afraid of you again, Bessie, because -I have got used to you, and I shall soon have another set of people -to dread." -"If you dread them they'll dislike you." -"As you do, Bessie?" -"I don't dislike you, Miss I believe I am fonder of you than of -all the others." -"You don't show it." -"You little sharp thing you've got quite a new way of talking. -What makes you so venturesome and hardy?" -"Why, I shall soon be away from you, and besides" I was going -to say something about what had passed between me and Mrs. Reed, -but on second thoughts I considered it better to remain silent on -that head. -"And so you're glad to leave me?" -"Not at all, Bessie indeed, just now I'm rather sorry." -"Just now and rather How coolly my little lady says it I -dare say now if I were to ask you for a kiss you wouldn't give it -me you'd say you'd RATHER not." -"I'll kiss you and welcome bend your head down." Bessie stooped -we mutually embraced, and I followed her into the house quite -comforted. That afternoon lapsed in peace and harmony and in the -evening Bessie told me some of her most enchanting stories, and sang -me some of her sweetest songs. Even for me life had its gleams of -sunshine. -CHAPTER V -Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the th of -January, when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me -already up and nearly dressed. I had risen halfanhour before -her entrance, and had washed my face, and put on my clothes by the -light of a halfmoon just setting, whose rays streamed through the -narrow window near my crib. I was to leave Gateshead that day by -a coach which passed the lodge gates at six a.m. Bessie was the -only person yet risen she had lit a fire in the nursery, where -she now proceeded to make my breakfast. Few children can eat when -excited with the thoughts of a journey nor could I. Bessie, having -pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and -bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper -and put them into my bag then she helped me on with my pelisse -and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the -nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed's bedroom, she said, "Will you go -in and bid Missis goodbye?" -"No, Bessie she came to my crib last night when you were gone -down to supper, and said I need not disturb her in the morning, or -my cousins either and she told me to remember that she had always -been my best friend, and to speak of her and be grateful to her -accordingly." -"What did you say, Miss?" -"Nothing I covered my face with the bedclothes, and turned from -her to the wall." -"That was wrong, Miss Jane." -"It was quite right, Bessie. Your Missis has not been my friend -she has been my foe." -"O Miss Jane don't say so" -"Goodbye to Gateshead" cried I, as we passed through the hall -and went out at the front door. -The moon was set, and it was very dark Bessie carried a lantern, -whose light glanced on wet steps and gravel road sodden by a recent -thaw. Raw and chill was the winter morning my teeth chattered -as I hastened down the drive. There was a light in the porter's -lodge when we reached it, we found the porter's wife just kindling -her fire my trunk, which had been carried down the evening -before, stood corded at the door. It wanted but a few minutes of -six, and shortly after that hour had struck, the distant roll of -wheels announced the coming coach I went to the door and watched -its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom. -"Is she going by herself?" asked the porter's wife. -"Yes." -"And how far is it?" -"Fifty miles." -"What a long way I wonder Mrs. Reed is not afraid to trust her -so far alone." -The coach drew up there it was at the gates with its four horses -and its top laden with passengers the guard and coachman loudly -urged haste my trunk was hoisted up I was taken from Bessie's -neck, to which I clung with kisses. -"Be sure and take good care of her," cried she to the guard, as he -lifted me into the inside. -"Ay, ay" was the answer the door was slapped to, a voice exclaimed -"All right," and on we drove. Thus was I severed from Bessie and -Gateshead thus whirled away to unknown, and, as I then deemed, -remote and mysterious regions. -I remember but little of the journey I only know that the day -seemed to me of a preternatural length, and that we appeared to -travel over hundreds of miles of road. We passed through several -towns, and in one, a very large one, the coach stopped the horses -were taken out, and the passengers alighted to dine. I was carried -into an inn, where the guard wanted me to have some dinner but, as -I had no appetite, he left me in an immense room with a fireplace -at each end, a chandelier pendent from the ceiling, and a little red -gallery high up against the wall filled with musical instruments. -Here I walked about for a long time, feeling very strange, and -mortally apprehensive of some one coming in and kidnapping me for -I believed in kidnappers, their exploits having frequently figured -in Bessie's fireside chronicles. At last the guard returned once -more I was stowed away in the coach, my protector mounted his own -seat, sounded his hollow horn, and away we rattled over the "stony -street" of L. -The afternoon came on wet and somewhat misty as it waned into -dusk, I began to feel that we were getting very far indeed from -Gateshead we ceased to pass through towns the country changed -great grey hills heaved up round the horizon as twilight deepened, -we descended a valley, dark with wood, and long after night had -overclouded the prospect, I heard a wild wind rushing amongst trees. -Lulled by the sound, I at last dropped asleep I had not long slumbered -when the sudden cessation of motion awoke me the coachdoor was -open, and a person like a servant was standing at it I saw her -face and dress by the light of the lamps. -"Is there a little girl called Jane Eyre here?" she asked. I -answered "Yes," and was then lifted out my trunk was handed down, -and the coach instantly drove away. -I was stiff with long sitting, and bewildered with the noise and -motion of the coach Gathering my faculties, I looked about me. -Rain, wind, and darkness filled the air nevertheless, I dimly -discerned a wall before me and a door open in it through this door -I passed with my new guide she shut and locked it behind her. -There was now visible a house or houses for the building spread -far with many windows, and lights burning in some we went up -a broad pebbly path, splashing wet, and were admitted at a door -then the servant led me through a passage into a room with a fire, -where she left me alone. -I stood and warmed my numbed fingers over the blaze, then I looked -round there was no candle, but the uncertain light from the hearth -showed, by intervals, papered walls, carpet, curtains, shining -mahogany furniture it was a parlour, not so spacious or splendid -as the drawingroom at Gateshead, but comfortable enough. I was -puzzling to make out the subject of a picture on the wall, when the -door opened, and an individual carrying a light entered another -followed close behind. -The first was a tall lady with dark hair, dark eyes, and a pale -and large forehead her figure was partly enveloped in a shawl, -her countenance was grave, her bearing erect. -"The child is very young to be sent alone," said she, putting -her candle down on the table. She considered me attentively -for a minute or two, then further added -"She had better be put to bed soon she looks tired are you -tired?" she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. -"A little, ma'am." -"And hungry too, no doubt let her have some supper before she -goes to bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you have left -your parents to come to school, my little girl?" -I explained to her that I had no parents. She inquired how long -they had been dead then how old I was, what was my name, whether -I could read, write, and sew a little then she touched my cheek -gently with her forefinger, and saying, "She hoped I should be a -good child," dismissed me along with Miss Miller. -The lady I had left might be about twentynine the one who went -with me appeared some years younger the first impressed me by -her voice, look, and air. Miss Miller was more ordinary ruddy in -complexion, though of a careworn countenance hurried in gait and -action, like one who had always a multiplicity of tasks on hand -she looked, indeed, what I afterwards found she really was, an -underteacher. Led by her, I passed from compartment to compartment, -from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building till, -emerging from the total and somewhat dreary silence pervading that -portion of the house we had traversed, we came upon the hum of many -voices, and presently entered a wide, long room, with great deal -tables, two at each end, on each of which burnt a pair of candles, -and seated all round on benches, a congregation of girls of every -age, from nine or ten to twenty. Seen by the dim light of the -dips, their number to me appeared countless, though not in reality -exceeding eighty they were uniformly dressed in brown stuff frocks -of quaint fashion, and long holland pinafores. It was the hour of -study they were engaged in conning over their to morrow's task, -and the hum I had heard was the combined result of their whispered -repetitions. -Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a bench near the door, -then walking up to the top of the long room she cried out -"Monitors, collect the lessonbooks and put them away Four tall -girls arose from different tables, and going round, gathered the -books and removed them. Miss Miller again gave the word of command -"Monitors, fetch the suppertrays" -The tall girls went out and returned presently, each bearing a tray, -with portions of something, I knew not what, arranged thereon, and -a pitcher of water and mug in the middle of each tray. The portions -were handed round those who liked took a draught of the water, -the mug being common to all. When it came to my turn, I drank, for -I was thirsty, but did not touch the food, excitement and fatigue -rendering me incapable of eating I now saw, however, that it was -a thin oaten cake shaved into fragments. -The meal over, prayers were read by Miss Miller, and the classes -filed off, two and two, upstairs. Overpowered by this time with -weariness, I scarcely noticed what sort of a place the bedroom was, -except that, like the schoolroom, I saw it was very long. Tonight -I was to be Miss Miller's bedfellow she helped me to undress -when laid down I glanced at the long rows of beds, each of which -was quickly filled with two occupants in ten minutes the single -light was extinguished, and amidst silence and complete darkness -I fell asleep. -The night passed rapidly. I was too tired even to dream I only -once awoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain -fall in torrents, and to be sensible that Miss Miller had taken -her place by my side. When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell -was ringing the girls were up and dressing day had not yet begun -to dawn, and a rushlight or two burned in the room. I too rose -reluctantly it was bitter cold, and I dressed as well as I could -for shivering, and washed when there was a basin at liberty, which -did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to six girls, on -the stands down the middle of the room. Again the bell rang all -formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the stairs -and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom here prayers -were read by Miss Miller afterwards she called out -"Form classes" -A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which Miss Miller -repeatedly exclaimed, "Silence" and "Order" When it subsided, -I saw them all drawn up in four semicircles, before four chairs, -placed at the four tables all held books in their hands, and a great -book, like a Bible, lay on each table, before the vacant seat. A -pause of some seconds succeeded, filled up by the low, vague hum -of numbers Miss Miller walked from class to class, hushing this -indefinite sound. -A distant bell tinkled immediately three ladies entered the room, -each walked to a table and took her seat. Miss Miller assumed the -fourth vacant chair, which was that nearest the door, and around -which the smallest of the children were assembled to this inferior -class I was called, and placed at the bottom of it. -Business now began, the day's Collect was repeated, then certain -texts of Scripture were said, and to these succeeded a protracted -reading of chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour. By -the time that exercise was terminated, day had fully dawned. The -indefatigable bell now sounded for the fourth time the classes -were marshalled and marched into another room to breakfast how -glad I was to behold a prospect of getting something to eat I -was now nearly sick from inanition, having taken so little the day -before. -The refectory was a great, lowceiled, gloomy room on two long tables -smoked basins of something hot, which, however, to my dismay, sent -forth an odour far from inviting. I saw a universal manifestation -of discontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils -of those destined to swallow it from the van of the procession, -the tall girls of the first class, rose the whispered words -"Disgusting The porridge is burnt again" -"Silence" ejaculated a voice not that of Miss Miller, but one of -the upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartly dressed, -but of somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top -of one table, while a more buxom lady presided at the other. I -looked in vain for her I had first seen the night before she was -not visible Miss Miller occupied the foot of the table where I sat, -and a strange, foreignlooking, elderly lady, the French teacher, -as I afterwards found, took the corresponding seat at the other -board. A long grace was said and a hymn sung then a servant -brought in some tea for the teachers, and the meal began. -Ravenous, and now very faint, I devoured a spoonful or two of my -portion without thinking of its taste but the first edge of hunger -blunted, I perceived I had got in hand a nauseous mess burnt -porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes famine itself soon -sickens over it. The spoons were moved slowly I saw each girl -taste her food and try to swallow it but in most cases the effort -was soon relinquished. Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted. -Thanks being returned for what we had not got, and a second hymn -chanted, the refectory was evacuated for the schoolroom. I was one -of the last to go out, and in passing the tables, I saw one teacher -take a basin of the porridge and taste it she looked at the others -all their countenances expressed displeasure, and one of -them, the stout one, whispered -"Abominable stuff How shameful" -A quarter of an hour passed before lessons again began, during which -the schoolroom was in a glorious tumult for that space of time it -seemed to be permitted to talk loud and more freely, and they used -their privilege. The whole conversation ran on the breakfast, -which one and all abused roundly. Poor things it was the sole -consolation they had. Miss Miller was now the only teacher in the -room a group of great girls standing about her spoke with serious -and sullen gestures. I heard the name of Mr. Brocklehurst pronounced -by some lips at which Miss Miller shook her head disapprovingly -but she made no great effort to cheek the general wrath doubtless -she shared in it. -A clock in the schoolroom struck nine Miss Miller left -her circle, and standing in the middle of the room, cried -"Silence To your seats" -Discipline prevailed in five minutes the confused throng was -resolved into order, and comparative silence quelled the Babel -clamour of tongues. The upper teachers now punctually resumed their -posts but still, all seemed to wait. Ranged on benches down the -sides of the room, the eighty girls sat motionless and erect a -quaint assemblage they appeared, all with plain locks combed from -their faces, not a curl visible in brown dresses, made high and -surrounded by a narrow tucker about the throat, with little pockets -of holland shaped something like a Highlander's purse tied in front -of their frocks, and destined to serve the purpose of a workbag -all, too, wearing woollen stockings and countrymade shoes, fastened -with brass buckles. Above twenty of those clad in this costume -were fullgrown girls, or rather young women it suited them ill, -and gave an air of oddity even to the prettiest. -I was still looking at them, and also at intervals examining the -teachers none of whom precisely pleased me for the stout one -was a little coarse, the dark one not a little fierce, the foreigner -harsh and grotesque, and Miss Miller, poor thing looked purple, -weather beaten, and overworked when, as my eye wandered from -face to face, the whole school rose simultaneously, as if moved by -a common spring. -What was the matter? I had heard no order given I was puzzled. -Ere I had gathered my wits, the classes were again seated but as -all eyes were now turned to one point, mine followed the general -direction, and encountered the personage who had received me last -night. She stood at the bottom of the long room, on the hearth -for there was a fire at each end she surveyed the two rows of girls -silently and gravely. Miss Miller approaching, seemed to ask her -a question, and having received her answer, went back to -her place, and said aloud -"Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes" -While the direction was being executed, the lady consulted moved -slowly up the room. I suppose I have a considerable organ of -veneration, for I retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which -my eyes traced her steps. Seen now, in broad daylight, she looked -tall, fair, and shapely brown eyes with a benignant light in their -iris, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved the -whiteness of her large front on each of her temples her hair, of -a very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to the -fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets -were in vogue her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple -cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet -a gold watch watches were not so common then as now shone at -her girdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined -features a complexion, if pale, clear and a stately air and -carriage, and he will have, at least, as clearly as words can give -it, a correct idea of the exterior of Miss Temple Maria Temple, -as I afterwards saw the name written in a prayerbook intrusted to -me to carry to church. -The superintendent of Lowood for such was this lady having taken -her seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables, -summoned the first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson -on geography the lower classes were called by the teachers -repetitions in history, grammar, c., went on for an hour writing -and arithmetic succeeded, and music lessons were given by Miss -Temple to some of the elder girls. The duration of each lesson -was measured by the clock, which at last struck twelve. The -superintendent rose -"I have a word to address to the pupils," said she. -The tumult of cessation from lessons was already breaking -forth, but it sank at her voice. She went on -"You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat you -must be hungry I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese -shall be served to all." -The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise. -"It is to be done on my responsibility," she added, in an explanatory -tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room. -The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, to -the high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order -was now given "To the garden" Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, -with strings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. I was -similarly equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way into -the open air. -The garden was a wide inclosure, surrounded with walls so high as -to exclude every glimpse of prospect a covered verandah ran down -one side, and broad walks bordered a middle space divided into -scores of little beds these beds were assigned as gardens for -the pupils to cultivate, and each bed had an owner. When full of -flowers they would doubtless look pretty but now, at the latter -end of January, all was wintry blight and brown decay. I shuddered -as I stood and looked round me it was an inclement day for outdoor -exercise not positively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yellow -fog all under foot was still soaking wet with the floods of -yesterday. The stronger among the girls ran about and engaged in -active games, but sundry pale and thin ones herded together for -shelter and warmth in the verandah and amongst these, as the dense -mist penetrated to their shivering frames, I heard frequently the -sound of a hollow cough. -As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice -of me I stood lonely enough but to that feeling of isolation -I was accustomed it did not oppress me much. I leant against a -pillar of the verandah, drew my grey mantle close about me, and, -trying to forget the cold which nipped me without, and the unsatisfied -hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up to the employment -of watching and thinking. My reflections were too undefined -and fragmentary to merit record I hardly yet knew where I was -Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to an immeasurable -distance the present was vague and strange, and of the future I -could form no conjecture. I looked round the conventlike garden, -and then up at the house a large building, half of which seemed -grey and old, the other half quite new. The new part, containing -the schoolroom and dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed -windows, which gave it a churchlike aspect a stone tablet over -the door bore this inscription -"Lowood Institution. This portion was rebuilt A.D. , by Naomi -Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county." -"Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good -works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." St. Matt. -v. . -I read these words over and over again I felt that an explanation -belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetrate their import. -I was still pondering the signification of "Institution," and -endeavouring to make out a connection between the first words and -the verse of Scripture, when the sound of a cough close behind me -made me turn my head. I saw a girl sitting on a stone bench near -she was bent over a book, on the perusal of which she seemed intent -from where I stood I could see the title it was "Rasselas" a -name that struck me as strange, and consequently attractive. In -turning a leaf she happened to look up, and I said to her directly -"Is your book interesting?" I had already formed the intention of -asking her to lend it to me some day. -"I like it," she answered, after a pause of a second or two, during -which she examined me. -"What is it about?" I continued. I hardly know where I found the -hardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger the step -was contrary to my nature and habits but I think her occupation -touched a chord of sympathy somewhere for I too liked reading, -though of a frivolous and childish kind I could not digest or -comprehend the serious or substantial. -"You may look at it," replied the girl, offering me the book. -I did so a brief examination convinced me that the contents were -less taking than the title "Rasselas" looked dull to my trifling -taste I saw nothing about fairies, nothing about genii no bright -variety seemed spread over the closelyprinted pages. I returned -it to her she received it quietly, and without saying anything -she was about to relapse into her former studious mood again -I ventured to disturb her -"Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the door means? -What is Lowood Institution?" -"This house where you are come to live." -"And why do they call it Institution? Is it in any way different -from other schools?" -"It is partly a charityschool you and I, and all the rest of -us, are charitychildren. I suppose you are an orphan are not -either your father or your mother dead?" -"Both died before I can remember." -"Well, all the girls here have lost either one or both parents, -and this is called an institution for educating orphans." -"Do we pay no money? Do they keep us for nothing?" -"We pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each." -"Then why do they call us charitychildren?" -"Because fifteen pounds is not enough for board and teaching, and -the deficiency is supplied by subscription." -"Who subscribes?" -"Different benevolentminded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood -and in London." -"Who was Naomi Brocklehurst?" -"The lady who built the new part of this house as that tablet -records, and whose son overlooks and directs everything here." -"Why?" -"Because he is treasurer and manager of the establishment." -"Then this house does not belong to that tall lady who wears a -watch, and who said we were to have some bread and cheese?" -"To Miss Temple? Oh, no I wish it did she has to answer to -Mr. Brocklehurst for all she does. Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our -food and all our clothes." -"Does he live here?" -"No two miles off, at a large hall." -"Is he a good man?" -"He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good." -"Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?" -"Yes." -"And what are the other teachers called?" -"The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith she attends to the -work, and cuts out for we make our own clothes, our frocks, and -pelisses, and everything the little one with black hair is Miss -Scatcherd she teaches history and grammar, and hears the second -class repetitions and the one who wears a shawl, and has a -pockethandkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, is Madame -Pierrot she comes from Lisle, in France, and teaches French." -"Do you like the teachers?" -"Well enough." -"Do you like the little black one, and the Madame ? I cannot -pronounce her name as you do." -"Miss Scatcherd is hasty you must take care not to offend her -Madame Pierrot is not a bad sort of person." -"But Miss Temple is the best isn't she?" -"Miss Temple is very good and very clever she is above the rest, -because she knows far more than they do." -"Have you been long here?" -"Two years." -"Are you an orphan?" -"My mother is dead." -"Are you happy here?" -"You ask rather too many questions. I have given you answers enough -for the present now I want to read." -But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner all reentered -the house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely -more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast -the dinner was served in two huge tinplated vessels, whence rose -a strong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist -of indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and -cooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful -was apportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered -within myself whether every day's fare would be like this. -After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom lessons -recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock. -The only marked event of the afternoon was, that I saw the girl -with whom I had conversed in the verandah dismissed in disgrace -by Miss Scatcherd from a history class, and sent to stand in the -middle of the large schoolroom. The punishment seemed to me in -a high degree ignominious, especially for so great a girl she -looked thirteen or upwards. I expected she would show signs of -great distress and shame but to my surprise she neither wept nor -blushed composed, though grave, she stood, the central mark of -all eyes. "How can she bear it so quietly so firmly?" I asked -of myself. "Were I in her place, it seems to me I should wish the -earth to open and swallow me up. She looks as if she were thinking -of something beyond her punishment beyond her situation of -something not round her nor before her. I have heard of daydreams -is she in a daydream now? Her eyes are fixed on the floor, -but I am sure they do not see it her sight seems turned in, gone -down into her heart she is looking at what she can remember, I -believe not at what is really present. I wonder what sort of a -girl she is whether good or naughty." -Soon after five p.m. we had another meal, consisting of a small -mug of coffee, and halfaslice of brown bread. I devoured my -bread and drank my coffee with relish but I should have been glad -of as much more I was still hungry. Halfanhour's recreation -succeeded, then study then the glass of water and the piece of -oatcake, prayers, and bed. Such was my first day at Lowood. -CHAPTER VI -The next day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by -rushlight but this morning we were obliged to dispense with the -ceremony of washing the water in the pitchers was frozen. A change -had taken place in the weather the preceding evening, and a keen -northeast wind, whistling through the crevices of our bedroom -windows all night long, had made us shiver in our beds, and turned -the contents of the ewers to ice. -Before the long hour and a half of prayers and Biblereading -was over, I felt ready to perish with cold. Breakfasttime came -at last, and this morning the porridge was not burnt the quality -was eatable, the quantity small. How small my portion seemed I -wished it had been doubled. -In the course of the day I was enrolled a member of the fourth class, -and regular tasks and occupations were assigned me hitherto, I -had only been a spectator of the proceedings at Lowood I was now -to become an actor therein. At first, being little accustomed to -learn by heart, the lessons appeared to me both long and difficult -the frequent change from task to task, too, bewildered me and -I was glad when, about three o'clock in the afternoon, Miss Smith -put into my hands a border of muslin two yards long, together with -needle, thimble, c., and sent me to sit in a quiet corner of the -schoolroom, with directions to hem the same. At that hour most of -the others were sewing likewise but one class still stood round -Miss Scatcherd's chair reading, and as all was quiet, the subject -of their lessons could be heard, together with the manner in which -each girl acquitted herself, and the animadversions or commendations -of Miss Scatcherd on the performance. It was English history -among the readers I observed my acquaintance of the verandah at -the commencement of the lesson, her place had been at the top of -the class, but for some error of pronunciation, or some inattention -to stops, she was suddenly sent to the very bottom. Even in that -obscure position, Miss Scatcherd continued to make her an object -of constant notice she was continually addressing to her such -phrases as the following -"Burns" such it seems was her name the girls here were all -called by their surnames, as boys are elsewhere, "Burns, you are -standing on the side of your shoe turn your toes out immediately." -"Burns, you poke your chin most unpleasantly draw it in." "Burns, -I insist on your holding your head up I will not have you before -me in that attitude," c. c. -A chapter having been read through twice, the books were closed -and the girls examined. The lesson had comprised part of the reign -of Charles I., and there were sundry questions about tonnage and -poundage and shipmoney, which most of them appeared unable to -answer still, every little difficulty was solved instantly when -it reached Burns her memory seemed to have retained the substance -of the whole lesson, and she was ready with answers on every point. -I kept expecting that Miss Scatcherd would praise her attention -but, instead of that, she suddenly cried out -"You dirty, disagreeable girl you have never cleaned your nails -this morning" -Burns made no answer I wondered at her silence. "Why," thought -I, "does she not explain that she could neither clean her nails -nor wash her face, as the water was frozen?" -My attention was now called off by Miss Smith desiring me to hold a -skein of thread while she was winding it, she talked to me from -time to time, asking whether I had ever been at school before, -whether I could mark, stitch, knit, c. till she dismissed me, -I could not pursue my observations on Miss Scatcherd's movements. -When I returned to my seat, that lady was just delivering an order -of which I did not catch the import but Burns immediately left -the class, and going into the small inner room where the books were -kept, returned in half a minute, carrying in her hand a bundle of -twigs tied together at one end. This ominous tool she presented -to Miss Scatcherd with a respectful curtesy then she quietly, and -without being told, unloosed her pinafore, and the teacher instantly -and sharply inflicted on her neck a dozen strokes with the bunch -of twigs. Not a tear rose to Burns' eye and, while I paused from -my sewing, because my fingers quivered at this spectacle with a -sentiment of unavailing and impotent anger, not a feature of her -pensive face altered its ordinary expression. -"Hardened girl" exclaimed Miss Scatcherd "nothing can correct -you of your slatternly habits carry the rod away." -Burns obeyed I looked at her narrowly as she emerged from the -bookcloset she was just putting back her handkerchief into her -pocket, and the trace of a tear glistened on her thin cheek. -The playhour in the evening I thought the pleasantest fraction -of the day at Lowood the bit of bread, the draught of coffee -swallowed at five o'clock had revived vitality, if it had not -satisfied hunger the long restraint of the day was slackened -the schoolroom felt warmer than in the morning its fires being -allowed to burn a little more brightly, to supply, in some measure, -the place of candles, not yet introduced the ruddy gloaming, the -licensed uproar, the confusion of many voices gave one a welcome -sense of liberty. -On the evening of the day on which I had seen Miss Scatcherd flog -her pupil, Burns, I wandered as usual among the forms and tables -and laughing groups without a companion, yet not feeling lonely -when I passed the windows, I now and then lifted a blind, and looked -out it snowed fast, a drift was already forming against the lower -panes putting my ear close to the window, I could distinguish from -the gleeful tumult within, the disconsolate moan of the wind outside. -Probably, if I had lately left a good home and kind parents, this -would have been the hour when I should most keenly have regretted -the separation that wind would then have saddened my heart this -obscure chaos would have disturbed my peace as it was, I derived -from both a strange excitement, and reckless and feverish, I wished -the wind to howl more wildly, the gloom to deepen to darkness, and -the confusion to rise to clamour. -Jumping over forms, and creeping under tables, I made my way to -one of the fireplaces there, kneeling by the high wire fender, -I found Burns, absorbed, silent, abstracted from all round her by -the companionship of a book, which she read by the dim glare of -the embers. -"Is it still 'Rasselas'?" I asked, coming behind her. -"Yes," she said, "and I have just finished it." -And in five minutes more she shut it up. I was glad of this. -"Now," thought I, "I can perhaps get her to talk." I sat down by -her on the floor. -"What is your name besides Burns?" -"Helen." -"Do you come a long way from here?" -"I come from a place farther north, quite on the borders of Scotland." -"Will you ever go back?" -"I hope so but nobody can be sure of the future." -"You must wish to leave Lowood?" -"No why should I? I was sent to Lowood to get an education and -it would be of no use going away until I have attained that object." -"But that teacher, Miss Scatcherd, is so cruel to you?" -"Cruel? Not at all She is severe she dislikes my faults." -"And if I were in your place I should dislike her I should resist -her. If she struck me with that rod, I should get it from her -hand I should break it under her nose." -"Probably you would do nothing of the sort but if you did, Mr. -Brocklehurst would expel you from the school that would be a great -grief to your relations. It is far better to endure patiently a -smart which nobody feels but yourself, than to commit a hasty action -whose evil consequences will extend to all connected with you and -besides, the Bible bids us return good for evil." -"But then it seems disgraceful to be flogged, and to be sent to -stand in the middle of a room full of people and you are such a -great girl I am far younger than you, and I could not bear it." -"Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it -it is weak and silly to say you CANNOT BEAR what it is your fate -to be required to bear." -I heard her with wonder I could not comprehend this doctrine of -endurance and still less could I understand or sympathise with -the forbearance she expressed for her chastiser. Still I felt that -Helen Burns considered things by a light invisible to my eyes. I -suspected she might be right and I wrong but I would not ponder -the matter deeply like Felix, I put it off to a more convenient -season. -"You say you have faults, Helen what are they? To me you seem -very good." -"Then learn from me, not to judge by appearances I am, as Miss -Scatcherd said, slatternly I seldom put, and never keep, things, -in order I am careless I forget rules I read when I should -learn my lessons I have no method and sometimes I say, like you, -I cannot BEAR to be subjected to systematic arrangements. This -is all very provoking to Miss Scatcherd, who is naturally neat, -punctual, and particular." -"And cross and cruel," I added but Helen Burns would not admit my -addition she kept silence. -"Is Miss Temple as severe to you as Miss Scatcherd?" -At the utterance of Miss Temple's name, a soft smile flitted over -her grave face. -"Miss Temple is full of goodness it pains her to be severe to any -one, even the worst in the school she sees my errors, and tells -me of them gently and, if I do anything worthy of praise, she gives -me my meed liberally. One strong proof of my wretchedly defective -nature is, that even her expostulations, so mild, so rational, have -not influence to cure me of my faults and even her praise, though -I value it most highly, cannot stimulate me to continued care and -foresight." -"That is curious," said I, "it is so easy to be careful." -"For YOU I have no doubt it is. I observed you in your class this -morning, and saw you were closely attentive your thoughts never -seemed to wander while Miss Miller explained the lesson and questioned -you. Now, mine continually rove away when I should be listening -to Miss Scatcherd, and collecting all she says with assiduity, often -I lose the very sound of her voice I fall into a sort of dream. -Sometimes I think I am in Northumberland, and that the noises I -hear round me are the bubbling of a little brook which runs through -Deepden, near our house then, when it comes to my turn to reply, -I have to be awakened and having heard nothing of what was read -for listening to the visionary brook, I have no answer ready." -"Yet how well you replied this afternoon." -"It was mere chance the subject on which we had been reading had -interested me. This afternoon, instead of dreaming of Deepden, I -was wondering how a man who wished to do right could act so unjustly -and unwisely as Charles the First sometimes did and I thought what -a pity it was that, with his integrity and conscientiousness, he -could see no farther than the prerogatives of the crown. If he had -but been able to look to a distance, and see how what they call the -spirit of the age was tending Still, I like Charles I respect -him I pity him, poor murdered king Yes, his enemies were the -worst they shed blood they had no right to shed. How dared they -kill him" -Helen was talking to herself now she had forgotten I could not -very well understand her that I was ignorant, or nearly so, of -the subject she discussed. I recalled her to my level. -"And when Miss Temple teaches you, do your thoughts wander then?" -"No, certainly, not often because Miss Temple has generally something -to say which is newer than my own reflections her language is -singularly agreeable to me, and the information she communicates -is often just what I wished to gain." -"Well, then, with Miss Temple you are good?" -"Yes, in a passive way I make no effort I follow as inclination -guides me. There is no merit in such goodness." -"A great deal you are good to those who are good to you. It is -all I ever desire to be. If people were always kind and obedient -to those who are cruel and unjust, the wicked people would have -it all their own way they would never feel afraid, and so they -would never alter, but would grow worse and worse. When we are -struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard -I am sure we should so hard as to teach the person who struck -us never to do it again." -"You will change your mind, I hope, when you grow older as yet -you are but a little untaught girl." -"But I feel this, Helen I must dislike those who, whatever I do -to please them, persist in disliking me I must resist those who -punish me unjustly. It is as natural as that I should love those -who show me affection, or submit to punishment when I feel it is -deserved." -"Heathens and savage tribes hold that doctrine, but Christians and -civilised nations disown it." -"How? I don't understand." -"It is not violence that best overcomes hate nor vengeance that -most certainly heals injury." -"What then?" -"Read the New Testament, and observe what Christ says, and how He -acts make His word your rule, and His conduct your example." -"What does He say?" -"Love your enemies bless them that curse you do good to them that -hate you and despitefully use you." -"Then I should love Mrs. Reed, which I cannot do I should bless -her son John, which is impossible." -In her turn, Helen Burns asked me to explain, and I proceeded -forthwith to pour out, in my own way, the tale of my sufferings -and resentments. Bitter and truculent when excited, I spoke as I -felt, without reserve or softening. -Helen heard me patiently to the end I expected she would then -make a remark, but she said nothing. -"Well," I asked impatiently, "is not Mrs. Reed a hardhearted, bad -woman?" -"She has been unkind to you, no doubt because you see, she -dislikes your cast of character, as Miss Scatcherd does mine but -how minutely you remember all she has done and said to you What -a singularly deep impression her injustice seems to have made -on your heart No illusage so brands its record on my feelings. -Would you not be happier if you tried to forget her severity, -together with the passionate emotions it excited? Life appears -to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering -wrongs. We are, and must be, one and all, burdened with faults in -this world but the time will soon come when, I trust, we shall -put them off in putting off our corruptible bodies when debasement -and sin will fall from us with this cumbrous frame of flesh, and -only the spark of the spirit will remain, the impalpable principle -of light and thought, pure as when it left the Creator to inspire -the creature whence it came it will return perhaps again to -be communicated to some being higher than man perhaps to pass -through gradations of glory, from the pale human soul to brighten -to the seraph Surely it will never, on the contrary, be suffered -to degenerate from man to fiend? No I cannot believe that I -hold another creed which no one ever taught me, and which I seldom -mention but in which I delight, and to which I cling for it -extends hope to all it makes Eternity a rest a mighty home, not -a terror and an abyss. Besides, with this creed, I can so clearly -distinguish between the criminal and his crime I can so sincerely -forgive the first while I abhor the last with this creed revenge -never worries my heart, degradation never too deeply disgusts me, -injustice never crushes me too low I live in calm, looking to -the end." -Helen's head, always drooping, sank a little lower as she finished -this sentence. I saw by her look she wished no longer to talk -to me, but rather to converse with her own thoughts. She was not -allowed much time for meditation a monitor, a great rough girl, -presently came up, exclaiming in a strong Cumberland accent -"Helen Burns, if you don't go and put your drawer in order, and -fold up your work this minute, I'll tell Miss Scatcherd to come -and look at it" -Helen sighed as her reverie fled, and getting up, obeyed the monitor -without reply as without delay. -CHAPTER VII -My first quarter at Lowood seemed an age and not the golden -age either it comprised an irksome struggle with difficulties in -habituating myself to new rules and unwonted tasks. The fear of -failure in these points harassed me worse than the physical hardships -of my lot though these were no trifles. -During January, February, and part of March, the deep snows, -and, after their melting, the almost impassable roads, prevented -our stirring beyond the garden walls, except to go to church but -within these limits we had to pass an hour every day in the open -air. Our clothing was insufficient to protect us from the severe -cold we had no boots, the snow got into our shoes and melted -there our ungloved hands became numbed and covered with chilblains, -as were our feet I remember well the distracting irritation I -endured from this cause every evening, when my feet inflamed and -the torture of thrusting the swelled, raw, and stiff toes into my shoes -in the morning. Then the scanty supply of food was distressing -with the keen appetites of growing children, we had scarcely -sufficient to keep alive a delicate invalid. From this deficiency -of nourishment resulted an abuse, which pressed hardly on the younger -pupils whenever the famished great girls had an opportunity, they -would coax or menace the little ones out of their portion. Many -a time I have shared between two claimants the precious morsel of -brown bread distributed at teatime and after relinquishing to a -third half the contents of my mug of coffee, I have swallowed the -remainder with an accompaniment of secret tears, forced from me by -the exigency of hunger. -Sundays were dreary days in that wintry season. We had to walk -two miles to Brocklebridge Church, where our patron officiated. -We set out cold, we arrived at church colder during the morning -service we became almost paralysed. It was too far to return -to dinner, and an allowance of cold meat and bread, in the same -penurious proportion observed in our ordinary meals, was served -round between the services. -At the close of the afternoon service we returned by an exposed and -hilly road, where the bitter winter wind, blowing over a range of -snowy summits to the north, almost flayed the skin from our faces. -I can remember Miss Temple walking lightly and rapidly along our -drooping line, her plaid cloak, which the frosty wind fluttered, -gathered close about her, and encouraging us, by precept and -example, to keep up our spirits, and march forward, as she said, -"like stalwart soldiers." The other teachers, poor things, were -generally themselves too much dejected to attempt the task of -cheering others. -How we longed for the light and heat of a blazing fire when we got -back But, to the little ones at least, this was denied each -hearth in the schoolroom was immediately surrounded by a double -row of great girls, and behind them the younger children crouched -in groups, wrapping their starved arms in their pinafores. -A little solace came at teatime, in the shape of a double ration -of bread a whole, instead of a half, slice with the delicious -addition of a thin scrape of butter it was the hebdomadal treat -to which we all looked forward from Sabbath to Sabbath. I generally -contrived to reserve a moiety of this bounteous repast for myself -but the remainder I was invariably obliged to part with. -The Sunday evening was spent in repeating, by heart, the Church -Catechism, and the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of St. -Matthew and in listening to a long sermon, read by Miss Miller, -whose irrepressible yawns attested her weariness. A frequent -interlude of these performances was the enactment of the part of -Eutychus by some halfdozen of little girls, who, overpowered with -sleep, would fall down, if not out of the third loft, yet off the -fourth form, and be taken up half dead. The remedy was, to thrust -them forward into the centre of the schoolroom, and oblige them -to stand there till the sermon was finished. Sometimes their -feet failed them, and they sank together in a heap they were then -propped up with the monitors' high stools. -I have not yet alluded to the visits of Mr. Brocklehurst and indeed -that gentleman was from home during the greater part of the first -month after my arrival perhaps prolonging his stay with his friend -the archdeacon his absence was a relief to me. I need not say -that I had my own reasons for dreading his coming but come he -did at last. -One afternoon I had then been three weeks at Lowood, as I was sitting -with a slate in my hand, puzzling over a sum in long division, my -eyes, raised in abstraction to the window, caught sight of a figure -just passing I recognised almost instinctively that gaunt outline -and when, two minutes after, all the school, teachers included, -rose en masse, it was not necessary for me to look up in order to -ascertain whose entrance they thus greeted. A long stride measured -the schoolroom, and presently beside Miss Temple, who herself -had risen, stood the same black column which had frowned on me so -ominously from the hearthrug of Gateshead. I now glanced sideways -at this piece of architecture. Yes, I was right it was Mr. -Brocklehurst, buttoned up in a surtout, and looking longer, narrower, -and more rigid than ever. -I had my own reasons for being dismayed at this apparition too -well I remembered the perfidious hints given by Mrs. Reed about my -disposition, c. the promise pledged by Mr. Brocklehurst to apprise -Miss Temple and the teachers of my vicious nature. All along -I had been dreading the fulfilment of this promise, I had been -looking out daily for the "Coming Man," whose information respecting -my past life and conversation was to brand me as a bad child for -ever now there he was. -He stood at Miss Temple's side he was speaking low in her ear I did -not doubt he was making disclosures of my villainy and I watched -her eye with painful anxiety, expecting every moment to see its -dark orb turn on me a glance of repugnance and contempt. I listened -too and as I happened to be seated quite at the top of the room, -I caught most of what he said its import relieved me from immediate -apprehension. -"I suppose, Miss Temple, the thread I bought at Lowton will do -it struck me that it would be just of the quality for the calico -chemises, and I sorted the needles to match. You may tell Miss -Smith that I forgot to make a memorandum of the darning needles, -but she shall have some papers sent in next week and she is not, -on any account, to give out more than one at a time to each pupil -if they have more, they are apt to be careless and lose them. And, -O ma'am I wish the woollen stockings were better looked to -when I was here last, I went into the kitchengarden and examined -the clothes drying on the line there was a quantity of black hose -in a very bad state of repair from the size of the holes in them -I was sure they had not been well mended from time to time." -He paused. -"Your directions shall be attended to, sir," said Miss Temple. -"And, ma'am," he continued, "the laundress tells me some of the -girls have two clean tuckers in the week it is too much the -rules limit them to one." -"I think I can explain that circumstance, sir. Agnes and Catherine -Johnstone were invited to take tea with some friends at Lowton -last Thursday, and I gave them leave to put on clean tuckers for -the occasion." -Mr. Brocklehurst nodded. -"Well, for once it may pass but please not to let the circumstance -occur too often. And there is another thing which surprised me -I find, in settling accounts with the housekeeper, that a lunch, -consisting of bread and cheese, has twice been served out to -the girls during the past fortnight. How is this? I looked over -the regulations, and I find no such meal as lunch mentioned. Who -introduced this innovation? and by what authority?" -"I must be responsible for the circumstance, sir," replied Miss -Temple "the breakfast was so ill prepared that the pupils could -not possibly eat it and I dared not allow them to remain fasting -till dinnertime." -"Madam, allow me an instant. You are aware that my plan in bringing -up these girls is, not to accustom them to habits of luxury and -indulgence, but to render them hardy, patient, selfdenying. Should -any little accidental disappointment of the appetite occur, such -as the spoiling of a meal, the under or the over dressing of a -dish, the incident ought not to be neutralised by replacing with -something more delicate the comfort lost, thus pampering the body -and obviating the aim of this institution it ought to be improved -to the spiritual edification of the pupils, by encouraging them -to evince fortitude under temporary privation. A brief address on -those occasions would not be mistimed, wherein a judicious instructor -would take the opportunity of referring to the sufferings of the -primitive Christians to the torments of martyrs to the exhortations -of our blessed Lord Himself, calling upon His disciples to take -up their cross and follow Him to His warnings that man shall not -live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the -mouth of God to His divine consolations, "If ye suffer hunger or -thirst for My sake, happy are ye." Oh, madam, when you put bread -and cheese, instead of burnt porridge, into these children's mouths, -you may indeed feed their vile bodies, but you little think how -you starve their immortal souls" -Mr. Brocklehurst again paused perhaps overcome by his feelings. -Miss Temple had looked down when he first began to speak to her -but she now gazed straight before her, and her face, naturally pale -as marble, appeared to be assuming also the coldness and fixity of -that material especially her mouth, closed as if it would have -required a sculptor's chisel to open it, and her brow settled -gradually into petrified severity. -Meantime, Mr. Brocklehurst, standing on the hearth with his hands -behind his back, majestically surveyed the whole school. Suddenly -his eye gave a blink, as if it had met something that either dazzled -or shocked its pupil turning, he said in more rapid accents -than he had hitherto used -"Miss Temple, Miss Temple, what WHAT is that girl with curled -hair? Red hair, ma'am, curled curled all over?" And extending -his cane he pointed to the awful object, his hand shaking as he -did so. -"It is Julia Severn," replied Miss Temple, very quietly. -"Julia Severn, ma'am And why has she, or any other, curled hair? -Why, in defiance of every precept and principle of this house, -does she conform to the world so openly here in an evangelical, -charitable establishment as to wear her hair one mass of curls?" -"Julia's hair curls naturally," returned Miss Temple, still more -quietly. -"Naturally Yes, but we are not to conform to nature I wish -these girls to be the children of Grace and why that abundance? -I have again and again intimated that I desire the hair to be -arranged closely, modestly, plainly. Miss Temple, that girl's hair -must be cut off entirely I will send a barber tomorrow and I -see others who have far too much of the excrescence that tall -girl, tell her to turn round. Tell all the first form to rise up -and direct their faces to the wall." -Miss Temple passed her handkerchief over her lips, as if to smooth -away the involuntary smile that curled them she gave the order, -however, and when the first class could take in what was required -of them, they obeyed. Leaning a little back on my bench, I could -see the looks and grimaces with which they commented on this -manoeuvre it was a pity Mr. Brocklehurst could not see them too -he would perhaps have felt that, whatever he might do with the -outside of the cup and platter, the inside was further beyond his -interference than he imagined. -He scrutinised the reverse of these living medals some five minutes, -then pronounced sentence. These words fell like the knell of doom -"All those topknots must be cut off." -Miss Temple seemed to remonstrate. -"Madam," he pursued, "I have a Master to serve whose kingdom is not -of this world my mission is to mortify in these girls the lusts -of the flesh to teach them to clothe themselves with shamefacedness -and sobriety, not with braided hair and costly apparel and each -of the young persons before us has a string of hair twisted in -plaits which vanity itself might have woven these, I repeat, -must be cut off think of the time wasted, of " -Mr. Brocklehurst was here interrupted three other visitors, ladies, -now entered the room. They ought to have come a little sooner to -have heard his lecture on dress, for they were splendidly attired -in velvet, silk, and furs. The two younger of the trio fine girls -of sixteen and seventeen had grey beaver hats, then in fashion, -shaded with ostrich plumes, and from under the brim of this graceful -headdress fell a profusion of light tresses, elaborately curled -the elder lady was enveloped in a costly velvet shawl, trimmed with -ermine, and she wore a false front of French curls. -These ladies were deferentially received by Miss Temple, as Mrs. -and the Misses Brocklehurst, and conducted to seats of honour at the -top of the room. It seems they had come in the carriage with their -reverend relative, and had been conducting a rummaging scrutiny of -the room upstairs, while he transacted business with the housekeeper, -questioned the laundress, and lectured the superintendent. They -now proceeded to address divers remarks and reproofs to Miss Smith, -who was charged with the care of the linen and the inspection of -the dormitories but I had no time to listen to what they said -other matters called off and enchanted my attention. -Hitherto, while gathering up the discourse of Mr. Brocklehurst and -Miss Temple, I had not, at the same time, neglected precautions to -secure my personal safety which I thought would be effected, if -I could only elude observation. To this end, I had sat well back -on the form, and while seeming to be busy with my sum, had held my -slate in such a manner as to conceal my face I might have escaped -notice, had not my treacherous slate somehow happened to slip from -my hand, and falling with an obtrusive crash, directly drawn every -eye upon me I knew it was all over now, and, as I stooped to pick -up the two fragments of slate, I rallied my forces for the worst. -It came. -"A careless girl" said Mr. Brocklehurst, and immediately after -"It is the new pupil, I perceive." And before I could draw -breath, "I must not forget I have a word to say respecting her." -Then aloud how loud it seemed to me "Let the child who broke -her slate come forward" -Of my own accord I could not have stirred I was paralysed but -the two great girls who sit on each side of me, set me on my legs -and pushed me towards the dread judge, and then Miss Temple gently -assisted me to his very feet, and I caught her whispered counsel -"Don't be afraid, Jane, I saw it was an accident you shall not be -punished." -The kind whisper went to my heart like a dagger. -"Another minute, and she will despise me for a hypocrite," thought -I and an impulse of fury against Reed, Brocklehurst, and Co. -bounded in my pulses at the conviction. I was no Helen Burns. -"Fetch that stool," said Mr. Brocklehurst, pointing to a very high -one from which a monitor had just risen it was brought. -"Place the child upon it." -And I was placed there, by whom I don't know I was in no condition -to note particulars I was only aware that they had hoisted me up -to the height of Mr. Brocklehurst's nose, that he was within a yard -of me, and that a spread of shot orange and purple silk pelisses -and a cloud of silvery plumage extended and waved below me. -Mr. Brocklehurst hemmed. -"Ladies," said he, turning to his family, "Miss Temple, teachers, -and children, you all see this girl?" -Of course they did for I felt their eyes directed like burningglasses -against my scorched skin. -"You see she is yet young you observe she possesses the ordinary -form of childhood God has graciously given her the shape that He -has given to all of us no signal deformity points her out as a -marked character. Who would think that the Evil One had already -found a servant and agent in her? Yet such, I grieve to say, is -the case." -A pause in which I began to steady the palsy of my nerves, and -to feel that the Rubicon was passed and that the trial, no longer -to be shirked, must be firmly sustained. -"My dear children," pursued the black marble clergyman, with pathos, -"this is a sad, a melancholy occasion for it becomes my duty to -warn you, that this girl, who might be one of God's own lambs, is -a little castaway not a member of the true flock, but evidently -an interloper and an alien. You must be on your guard against -her you must shun her example if necessary, avoid her company, -exclude her from your sports, and shut her out from your converse. -Teachers, you must watch her keep your eyes on her movements, -weigh well her words, scrutinise her actions, punish her body to -save her soul if, indeed, such salvation be possible, for my -tongue falters while I tell it this girl, this child, the native -of a Christian land, worse than many a little heathen who says its -prayers to Brahma and kneels before Juggernaut this girl is -a liar" -Now came a pause of ten minutes, during which I, by this time in -perfect possession of my wits, observed all the female Brocklehursts -produce their pockethandkerchiefs and apply them to their optics, -while the elderly lady swayed herself to and fro, and the two -younger ones whispered, "How shocking" Mr. Brocklehurst resumed. -"This I learned from her benefactress from the pious and charitable -lady who adopted her in her orphan state, reared her as her own -daughter, and whose kindness, whose generosity the unhappy girl -repaid by an ingratitude so bad, so dreadful, that at last her -excellent patroness was obliged to separate her from her own young -ones, fearful lest her vicious example should contaminate their -purity she has sent her here to be healed, even as the Jews -of old sent their diseased to the troubled pool of Bethesda and, -teachers, superintendent, I beg of you not to allow the waters to -stagnate round her." -With this sublime conclusion, Mr. Brocklehurst adjusted the top button -of his surtout, muttered something to his family, who rose, bowed -to Miss Temple, and then all the great people sailed in -state from the room. Turning at the door, my judge said -"Let her stand halfanhour longer on that stool, and let no one -speak to her during the remainder of the day." -There was I, then, mounted aloft I, who had said I could not bear -the shame of standing on my natural feet in the middle of the room, -was now exposed to general view on a pedestal of infamy. What -my sensations were no language can describe but just as they all -rose, stifling my breath and constricting my throat, a girl came -up and passed me in passing, she lifted her eyes. What a strange -light inspired them What an extraordinary sensation that ray -sent through me How the new feeling bore me up It was as if a -martyr, a hero, had passed a slave or victim, and imparted strength -in the transit. I mastered the rising hysteria, lifted up my head, -and took a firm stand on the stool. Helen Burns asked some slight -question about her work of Miss Smith, was chidden for the triviality -of the inquiry, returned to her place, and smiled at me as she -again went by. What a smile I remember it now, and I know that -it was the effluence of fine intellect, of true courage it lit up -her marked lineaments, her thin face, her sunken grey eye, like a -reflection from the aspect of an angel. Yet at that moment Helen -Burns wore on her arm "the untidy badge" scarcely an hour ago I -had heard her condemned by Miss Scatcherd to a dinner of bread and -water on the morrow because she had blotted an exercise in copying -it out. Such is the imperfect nature of man such spots are there -on the disc of the clearest planet and eyes like Miss Scatcherd's -can only see those minute defects, and are blind to the full -brightness of the orb. -CHAPTER VIII -Ere the halfhour ended, five o'clock struck school was dismissed, -and all were gone into the refectory to tea. I now ventured to -descend it was deep dusk I retired into a corner and sat down on -the floor. The spell by which I had been so far supported began -to dissolve reaction took place, and soon, so overwhelming was the -grief that seized me, I sank prostrate with my face to the ground. -Now I wept Helen Burns was not here nothing sustained me left -to myself I abandoned myself, and my tears watered the boards. I -had meant to be so good, and to do so much at Lowood to make so -many friends, to earn respect and win affection. Already I had -made visible progress that very morning I had reached the head -of my class Miss Miller had praised me warmly Miss Temple had -smiled approbation she had promised to teach me drawing, and to -let me learn French, if I continued to make similar improvement two -months longer and then I was well received by my fellowpupils -treated as an equal by those of my own age, and not molested by -any now, here I lay again crushed and trodden on and could I ever -rise more? -"Never," I thought and ardently I wished to die. While sobbing -out this wish in broken accents, some one approached I started -up again Helen Burns was near me the fading fires just showed -her coming up the long, vacant room she brought my coffee and -bread. -"Come, eat something," she said but I put both away from me, -feeling as if a drop or a crumb would have choked me in my present -condition. Helen regarded me, probably with surprise I could not -now abate my agitation, though I tried hard I continued to weep -aloud. She sat down on the ground near me, embraced her knees -with her arms, and rested her head upon them in that attitude -she remained silent as an Indian. I was the first who spoke -"Helen, why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be -a liar?" -"Everybody, Jane? Why, there are only eighty people who have heard -you called so, and the world contains hundreds of millions." -"But what have I to do with millions? The eighty, I know, despise -me." -"Jane, you are mistaken probably not one in the school either -despises or dislikes you many, I am sure, pity you much." -"How can they pity me after what Mr. Brocklehurst has said?" -"Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god nor is he even a great and admired -man he is little liked here he never took steps to make himself -liked. Had he treated you as an especial favourite, you would -have found enemies, declared or covert, all around you as it is, -the greater number would offer you sympathy if they dared. Teachers -and pupils may look coldly on you for a day or two, but friendly -feelings are concealed in their hearts and if you persevere in -doing well, these feelings will ere long appear so much the more -evidently for their temporary suppression. Besides, Jane" she -paused. -"Well, Helen?" said I, putting my hand into hers she -chafed my fingers gently to warm them, and went on -"If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your -own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would -not be without friends." -"No I know I should think well of myself but that is not enough -if others don't love me I would rather die than live I cannot -bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here to gain some -real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly -love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or -to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, -and let it dash its hoof at my chest " -"Hush, Jane you think too much of the love of human beings you -are too impulsive, too vehement the sovereign hand that created -your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other -resources than your feeble self, or than creatures feeble as you. -Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible -world and a kingdom of spirits that world is round us, for it is -everywhere and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned -to guard us and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote -us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, -recognise our innocence if innocent we be as I know you are of -this charge which Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously repeated -at secondhand from Mrs. Reed for I read a sincere nature in -your ardent eyes and on your clear front, and God waits only the -separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward. -Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life -is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness -to glory?" -I was silent Helen had calmed me but in the tranquillity she -imparted there was an alloy of inexpressible sadness. I felt the -impression of woe as she spoke, but I could not tell whence it -came and when, having done speaking, she breathed a little fast -and coughed a short cough, I momentarily forgot my own sorrows to -yield to a vague concern for her. -Resting my head on Helen's shoulder, I put my arms round her waist -she drew me to her, and we reposed in silence. We had not sat long -thus, when another person came in. Some heavy clouds, swept from -the sky by a rising wind, had left the moon bare and her light, -streaming in through a window near, shone full both on us and on -the approaching figure, which we at once recognised as Miss Temple. -"I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre," said she "I want you -in my room and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too." -We went following the superintendent's guidance, we had to thread -some intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached -her apartment it contained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss -Temple told Helen Burns to be seated in a low armchair on one -side of the hearth, and herself taking another, she called me to -her side. -"Is it all over?" she asked, looking down at my face. "Have you -cried your grief away?" -"I am afraid I never shall do that." -"Why?" -"Because I have been wrongly accused and you, ma'am, and everybody -else, will now think me wicked." -"We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. -Continue to act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us." -"Shall I, Miss Temple?" -"You will," said she, passing her arm round me. "And now tell me -who is the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your benefactress?" -"Mrs. Reed, my uncle's wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to -her care." -"Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?" -"No, ma'am she was sorry to have to do it but my uncle, as -I have often heard the servants say, got her to promise before he -died that she would always keep me." -"Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when -a criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own -defence. You have been charged with falsehood defend yourself to -me as well as you can. Say whatever your memory suggests is true -but add nothing and exaggerate nothing." -I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate -most correct and, having reflected a few minutes in order -to arrange coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story -of my sad childhood. Exhausted by emotion, my language was more -subdued than it generally was when it developed that sad theme and -mindful of Helen's warnings against the indulgence of resentment, -I infused into the narrative far less of gall and wormwood than -ordinary. Thus restrained and simplified, it sounded more credible -I felt as I went on that Miss Temple fully believed me. -In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having come -to see me after the fit for I never forgot the, to me, frightful -episode of the redroom in detailing which, my excitement was -sure, in some degree, to break bounds for nothing could soften -in my recollection the spasm of agony which clutched my heart when -Mrs. Reed spurned my wild supplication for pardon, and locked me -a second time in the dark and haunted chamber. -I had finished Miss Temple regarded me a few minutes -in silence she then said -"I know something of Mr. Lloyd I shall write to him if his reply -agrees with your statement, you shall be publicly cleared from -every imputation to me, Jane, you are clear now." -She kissed me, and still keeping me at her side where I was well -contented to stand, for I derived a child's pleasure from the -contemplation of her face, her dress, her one or two ornaments, her -white forehead, her clustered and shining curls, and beaming dark -eyes, she proceeded to address Helen Burns. -"How are you tonight, Helen? Have you coughed much today?" -"Not quite so much, I think, ma'am." -"And the pain in your chest?" -"It is a little better." -Miss Temple got up, took her hand and examined her pulse then -she returned to her own seat as she resumed it, I heard her sigh -low. She was pensive a few minutes, then rousing herself, -she said cheerfully -"But you two are my visitors tonight I must treat you as such." -She rang her bell. -"Barbara," she said to the servant who answered it, "I have not yet -had tea bring the tray and place cups for these two young ladies." -And a tray was soon brought. How pretty, to my eyes, did the china -cups and bright teapot look, placed on the little round table near -the fire How fragrant was the steam of the beverage, and the -scent of the toast of which, however, I, to my dismay for I was -beginning to be hungry discerned only a very small portion Miss -Temple discerned it too. -"Barbara," said she, "can you not bring a little more bread and -butter? There is not enough for three." -Barbara went out she returned soon -"Madam, Mrs. Harden says she has sent up the usual quantity." -Mrs. Harden, be it observed, was the housekeeper a woman after -Mr. Brocklehurst's own heart, made up of equal parts of whalebone -and iron. -"Oh, very well" returned Miss Temple "we must make it do, -Barbara, I suppose." And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, -"Fortunately, I have it in my power to supply deficiencies for this -once." -Having invited Helen and me to approach the table, and placed -before each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel -of toast, she got up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel -wrapped in paper, disclosed presently to our eyes a goodsized -seedcake. -"I meant to give each of you some of this to take with you," said -she, "but as there is so little toast, you must have it now," and -she proceeded to cut slices with a generous hand. -We feasted that evening as on nectar and ambrosia and not the -least delight of the entertainment was the smile of gratification -with which our hostess regarded us, as we satisfied our famished -appetites on the delicate fare she liberally supplied. -Tea over and the tray removed, she again summoned us to the fire -we sat one on each side of her, and now a conversation followed -between her and Helen, which it was indeed a privilege to be admitted -to hear. -Miss Temple had always something of serenity in her air, of state -in her mien, of refined propriety in her language, which precluded -deviation into the ardent, the excited, the eager something which -chastened the pleasure of those who looked on her and listened to -her, by a controlling sense of awe and such was my feeling now -but as to Helen Burns, I was struck with wonder. -The refreshing meal, the brilliant fire, the presence and kindness -of her beloved instructress, or, perhaps, more than all these, -something in her own unique mind, had roused her powers within -her. They woke, they kindled first, they glowed in the bright -tint of her cheek, which till this hour I had never seen but pale -and bloodless then they shone in the liquid lustre of her eyes, -which had suddenly acquired a beauty more singular than that of -Miss Temple's a beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, -nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance. Then -her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what source I -cannot tell. Has a girl of fourteen a heart large enough, vigorous -enough, to hold the swelling spring of pure, full, fervid eloquence? -Such was the characteristic of Helen's discourse on that, to me, -memorable evening her spirit seemed hastening to live within a -very brief span as much as many live during a protracted existence. -They conversed of things I had never heard of of nations and times -past of countries far away of secrets of nature discovered or -guessed at they spoke of books how many they had read What -stores of knowledge they possessed Then they seemed so familiar -with French names and French authors but my amazement reached -its climax when Miss Temple asked Helen if she sometimes snatched -a moment to recall the Latin her father had taught her, and taking -a book from a shelf, bade her read and construe a page of Virgil -and Helen obeyed, my organ of veneration expanding at every sounding -line. She had scarcely finished ere the bell announced bedtime -no delay could be admitted Miss Temple embraced us both, -saying, as she drew us to her heart -"God bless you, my children" -Helen she held a little longer than me she let her go more -reluctantly it was Helen her eye followed to the door it was for -her she a second time breathed a sad sigh for her she wiped a tear -from her cheek. -On reaching the bedroom, we heard the voice of Miss Scatcherd she -was examining drawers she had just pulled out Helen Burns's, and -when we entered Helen was greeted with a sharp reprimand, and told -that tomorrow she should have halfadozen of untidily folded -articles pinned to her shoulder. -"My things were indeed in shameful disorder," murmured Helen to me, -in a low voice "I intended to have arranged them, but I forgot." -Next morning, Miss Scatcherd wrote in conspicuous characters on a piece -of pasteboard the word "Slattern," and bound it like a phylactery -round Helen's large, mild, intelligent, and benign looking forehead. -She wore it till evening, patient, unresentful, regarding it as -a deserved punishment. The moment Miss Scatcherd withdrew after -afternoon school, I ran to Helen, tore it off, and thrust it into -the fire the fury of which she was incapable had been burning -in my soul all day, and tears, hot and large, had continually been -scalding my cheek for the spectacle of her sad resignation gave -me an intolerable pain at the heart. -About a week subsequently to the incidents above narrated, Miss -Temple, who had written to Mr. Lloyd, received his answer it -appeared that what he said went to corroborate my account. Miss -Temple, having assembled the whole school, announced that inquiry -had been made into the charges alleged against Jane Eyre, and that -she was most happy to be able to pronounce her completely cleared -from every imputation. The teachers then shook hands with me and -kissed me, and a murmur of pleasure ran through the ranks of my -companions. -Thus relieved of a grievous load, I from that hour set to work -afresh, resolved to pioneer my way through every difficulty I -toiled hard, and my success was proportionate to my efforts my -memory, not naturally tenacious, improved with practice exercise -sharpened my wits in a few weeks I was promoted to a higher class -in less than two months I was allowed to commence French and drawing. -I learned the first two tenses of the verb ETRE, and sketched my -first cottage whose walls, bythebye, outrivalled in slope those of -the leaning tower of Pisa, on the same day. That night, on going -to bed, I forgot to prepare in imagination the Barmecide supper of -hot roast potatoes, or white bread and new milk, with which I was -wont to amuse my inward cravings I feasted instead on the spectacle -of ideal drawings, which I saw in the dark all the work of my own -hands freely pencilled houses and trees, picturesque rocks and -ruins, Cuyplike groups of cattle, sweet paintings of butterflies -hovering over unblown roses, of birds picking at ripe cherries, of -wren's nests enclosing pearllike eggs, wreathed about with young -ivy sprays. I examined, too, in thought, the possibility of -my ever being able to translate currently a certain little French -story which Madame Pierrot had that day shown me nor was that -problem solved to my satisfaction ere I fell sweetly asleep. -Well has Solomon said "Better is a dinner of herbs where love -is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." -I would not now have exchanged Lowood with all its privations for -Gateshead and its daily luxuries. -CHAPTER IX -But the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened. -Spring drew on she was indeed already come the frosts of winter -had ceased its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. -My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air -of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings -of April the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian -temperature froze the very blood in our veins we could now endure -the playhour passed in the garden sometimes on a sunny day it -began even to be pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over -those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought -that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter -traces of her steps. Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves snow -drops, crocuses, purple auriculas, and goldeneyed pansies. On -Thursday afternoons halfholidays we now took walks, and found -still sweeter flowers opening by the wayside, under the hedges. -I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the -horizon only bounded, lay all outside the high and spikeguarded -walls of our garden this pleasure consisted in prospect of noble -summits girdling a great hillhollow, rich in verdure and shadow -in a bright beck, full of dark stones and sparkling eddies. How -different had this scene looked when I viewed it laid out beneath -the iron sky of winter, stiffened in frost, shrouded with snow -when mists as chill as death wandered to the impulse of east winds -along those purple peaks, and rolled down "ing" and holm till they -blended with the frozen fog of the beck That beck itself was then -a torrent, turbid and curbless it tore asunder the wood, and sent -a raving sound through the air, often thickened with wild rain or -whirling sleet and for the forest on its banks, THAT showed only -ranks of skeletons. -April advanced to May a bright serene May it was days of blue -sky, placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled -up its duration. And now vegetation matured with vigour Lowood -shook loose its tresses it became all green, all flowery its -great elm, ash, and oak skeletons were restored to majestic life -woodland plants sprang up profusely in its recesses unnumbered -varieties of moss filled its hollows, and it made a strange -groundsunshine out of the wealth of its wild primrose plants I -have seen their pale gold gleam in overshadowed spots like scatterings -of the sweetest lustre. All this I enjoyed often and fully, free, -unwatched, and almost alone for this unwonted liberty and pleasure -there was a cause, to which it now becomes my task to advert. -Have I not described a pleasant site for a dwelling, when I speak -of it as bosomed in hill and wood, and rising from the verge of a -stream? Assuredly, pleasant enough but whether healthy or not -is another question. -That forestdell, where Lowood lay, was the cradle of fog and -fogbred pestilence which, quickening with the quickening spring, -crept into the Orphan Asylum, breathed typhus through its crowded -schoolroom and dormitory, and, ere May arrived, transformed the -seminary into an hospital. -Semistarvation and neglected colds had predisposed most of the -pupils to receive infection fortyfive out of the eighty girls -lay ill at one time. Classes were broken up, rules relaxed. The -few who continued well were allowed almost unlimited license -because the medical attendant insisted on the necessity of frequent -exercise to keep them in health and had it been otherwise, no -one had leisure to watch or restrain them. Miss Temple's whole -attention was absorbed by the patients she lived in the sickroom, -never quitting it except to snatch a few hours' rest at night. -The teachers were fully occupied with packing up and making other -necessary preparations for the departure of those girls who were -fortunate enough to have friends and relations able and willing -to remove them from the seat of contagion. Many, already smitten, -went home only to die some died at the school, and were buried -quietly and quickly, the nature of the malady forbidding delay. -While disease had thus become an inhabitant of Lowood, and death -its frequent visitor while there was gloom and fear within its -walls while its rooms and passages steamed with hospital smells, -the drug and the pastille striving vainly to overcome the effluvia -of mortality, that bright May shone unclouded over the bold hills -and beautiful woodland out of doors. Its garden, too, glowed -with flowers hollyhocks had sprung up tall as trees, lilies had -opened, tulips and roses were in bloom the borders of the little -beds were gay with pink thrift and crimson double daisies the -sweetbriars gave out, morning and evening, their scent of spice and -apples and these fragrant treasures were all useless for most of -the inmates of Lowood, except to furnish now and then a handful of -herbs and blossoms to put in a coffin. -But I, and the rest who continued well, enjoyed fully the beauties -of the scene and season they let us ramble in the wood, like -gipsies, from morning till night we did what we liked, went where -we liked we lived better too. Mr. Brocklehurst and his family -never came near Lowood now household matters were not scrutinised -into the cross housekeeper was gone, driven away by the fear -of infection her successor, who had been matron at the Lowton -Dispensary, unused to the ways of her new abode, provided with -comparative liberality. Besides, there were fewer to feed the -sick could eat little our breakfastbasins were better filled -when there was no time to prepare a regular dinner, which often -happened, she would give us a large piece of cold pie, or a thick -slice of bread and cheese, and this we carried away with us to -the wood, where we each chose the spot we liked best, and dined -sumptuously. -My favourite seat was a smooth and broad stone, rising white and dry -from the very middle of the beck, and only to be got at by wading -through the water a feat I accomplished barefoot. The stone was -just broad enough to accommodate, comfortably, another girl and me, -at that time my chosen comrade one Mary Ann Wilson a shrewd, -observant personage, whose society I took pleasure in, partly -because she was witty and original, and partly because she had a -manner which set me at my ease. Some years older than I, she knew -more of the world, and could tell me many things I liked to hear -with her my curiosity found gratification to my faults also she -gave ample indulgence, never imposing curb or rein on anything I -said. She had a turn for narrative, I for analysis she liked to -inform, I to question so we got on swimmingly together, deriving -much entertainment, if not much improvement, from our mutual -intercourse. -And where, meantime, was Helen Burns? Why did I not spend these -sweet days of liberty with her? Had I forgotten her? or was I so -worthless as to have grown tired of her pure society? Surely the -Mary Ann Wilson I have mentioned was inferior to my first acquaintance -she could only tell me amusing stories, and reciprocate any racy -and pungent gossip I chose to indulge in while, if I have spoken -truth of Helen, she was qualified to give those who enjoyed the -privilege of her converse a taste of far higher things. -True, reader and I knew and felt this and though I am a defective -being, with many faults and few redeeming points, yet I never tired -of Helen Burns nor ever ceased to cherish for her a sentiment -of attachment, as strong, tender, and respectful as any that ever -animated my heart. How could it be otherwise, when Helen, at -all times and under all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and -faithful friendship, which illhumour never soured, nor irritation -never troubled? But Helen was ill at present for some weeks she -had been removed from my sight to I knew not what room upstairs. -She was not, I was told, in the hospital portion of the house with -the fever patients for her complaint was consumption, not typhus -and by consumption I, in my ignorance, understood something mild, -which time and care would be sure to alleviate. -I was confirmed in this idea by the fact of her once or twice coming -downstairs on very warm sunny afternoons, and being taken by Miss -Temple into the garden but, on these occasions, I was not allowed -to go and speak to her I only saw her from the schoolroom window, -and then not distinctly for she was much wrapped up, and sat at -a distance under the verandah. -One evening, in the beginning of June, I had stayed out very late -with Mary Ann in the wood we had, as usual, separated ourselves -from the others, and had wandered far so far that we lost our -way, and had to ask it at a lonely cottage, where a man and woman -lived, who looked after a herd of halfwild swine that fed on the -mast in the wood. When we got back, it was after moonrise a -pony, which we knew to be the surgeon's, was standing at the garden -door. Mary Ann remarked that she supposed some one must be very -ill, as Mr. Bates had been sent for at that time of the evening. -She went into the house I stayed behind a few minutes to plant in -my garden a handful of roots I had dug up in the forest, and which -I feared would wither if I left them till the morning. This done, -I lingered yet a little longer the flowers smelt so sweet as -the dew fell it was such a pleasant evening, so serene, so warm -the still glowing west promised so fairly another fine day on the -morrow the moon rose with such majesty in the grave east. I was -noting these things and enjoying them as a child might, when it -entered my mind as it had never done before -"How sad to be lying now on a sick bed, and to be in danger of -dying This world is pleasant it would be dreary to be called -from it, and to have to go who knows where?" -And then my mind made its first earnest effort to comprehend what -had been infused into it concerning heaven and hell and for the -first time it recoiled, baffled and for the first time glancing -behind, on each side, and before it, it saw all round an unfathomed -gulf it felt the one point where it stood the present all the -rest was formless cloud and vacant depth and it shuddered at the -thought of tottering, and plunging amid that chaos. While pondering -this new idea, I heard the front door open Mr. Bates came out, -and with him was a nurse. After she had seen him mount his horse -and depart, she was about to close the door, but I ran up to her. -"How is Helen Burns?" -"Very poorly," was the answer. -"Is it her Mr. Bates has been to see?" -"Yes." -"And what does he say about her?" -"He says she'll not be here long." -This phrase, uttered in my hearing yesterday, would have only conveyed -the notion that she was about to be removed to Northumberland, to -her own home. I should not have suspected that it meant she was -dying but I knew instantly now It opened clear on my comprehension -that Helen Burns was numbering her last days in this world, and -that she was going to be taken to the region of spirits, if such -region there were. I experienced a shock of horror, then a strong -thrill of grief, then a desire a necessity to see her and I -asked in what room she lay. -"She is in Miss Temple's room," said the nurse. -"May I go up and speak to her?" -"Oh no, child It is not likely and now it is time for you to come -in you'll catch the fever if you stop out when the dew is falling." -The nurse closed the front door I went in by the side entrance which -led to the schoolroom I was just in time it was nine o'clock, -and Miss Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed. -It might be two hours later, probably near eleven, when I not -having been able to fall asleep, and deeming, from the perfect -silence of the dormitory, that my companions were all wrapt in -profound repose rose softly, put on my frock over my nightdress, -and, without shoes, crept from the apartment, and set off in quest -of Miss Temple's room. It was quite at the other end of the house -but I knew my way and the light of the unclouded summer moon, -entering here and there at passage windows, enabled me to find it -without difficulty. An odour of camphor and burnt vinegar warned -me when I came near the fever room and I passed its door quickly, -fearful lest the nurse who sat up all night should hear me. I -dreaded being discovered and sent back for I MUST see Helen, -I must embrace her before she died, I must give her one last -kiss, exchange with her one last word. -Having descended a staircase, traversed a portion of the house -below, and succeeded in opening and shutting, without noise, two -doors, I reached another flight of steps these I mounted, and then -just opposite to me was Miss Temple's room. A light shone through -the keyhole and from under the door a profound stillness pervaded -the vicinity. Coming near, I found the door slightly ajar -probably to admit some fresh air into the close abode of sickness. -Indisposed to hesitate, and full of impatient impulses soul and -senses quivering with keen throes I put it back and looked in. -My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death. -Close by Miss Temple's bed, and half covered with its white curtains, -there stood a little crib. I saw the outline of a form under the -clothes, but the face was hid by the hangings the nurse I had -spoken to in the garden sat in an easychair asleep an unsnuffed -candle burnt dimly on the table. Miss Temple was not to be seen -I knew afterwards that she had been called to a delirious patient -in the feverroom. I advanced then paused by the crib side my -hand was on the curtain, but I preferred speaking before I withdrew -it. I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse. -"Helen" I whispered softly, "are you awake?" -She stirred herself, put back the curtain, and I saw her face, pale, -wasted, but quite composed she looked so little changed that my -fear was instantly dissipated. -"Can it be you, Jane?" she asked, in her own gentle voice. -"Oh" I thought, "she is not going to die they are mistaken she -could not speak and look so calmly if she were." -I got on to her crib and kissed her her forehead was cold, and -her cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist but -she smiled as of old. -"Why are you come here, Jane? It is past eleven o'clock I heard -it strike some minutes since." -"I came to see you, Helen I heard you were very ill, and I could -not sleep till I had spoken to you." -"You came to bid me goodbye, then you are just in time probably." -"Are you going somewhere, Helen? Are you going home?" -"Yes to my long home my last home." -"No, no, Helen" I stopped, distressed. While I tried to devour -my tears, a fit of coughing seized Helen it did not, however, wake -the nurse when it was over, she lay some minutes exhausted -then she whispered -"Jane, your little feet are bare lie down and cover yourself with -my quilt." -I did so she put her arm over me, and I nestled close -to her. After a long silence, she resumed, still whispering -"I am very happy, Jane and when you hear that I am dead, you must -be sure and not grieve there is nothing to grieve about. We -all must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not -painful it is gentle and gradual my mind is at rest. I leave -no one to regret me much I have only a father and he is lately -married, and will not miss me. By dying young, I shall escape -great sufferings. I had not qualities or talents to make my way -very well in the world I should have been continually at fault." -"But where are you going to, Helen? Can you see? Do you know?" -"I believe I have faith I am going to God." -"Where is God? What is God?" -"My Maker and yours, who will never destroy what He created. I -rely implicitly on His power, and confide wholly in His goodness -I count the hours till that eventful one arrives which shall restore -me to Him, reveal Him to me." -"You are sure, then, Helen, that there is such a place as heaven, -and that our souls can get to it when we die?" -"I am sure there is a future state I believe God is good I can -resign my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. God is my -father God is my friend I love Him I believe He loves me." -"And shall I see you again, Helen, when I die?" -"You will come to the same region of happiness be received by -the same mighty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear Jane." -Again I questioned, but this time only in thought. "Where is -that region? Does it exist?" And I clasped my arms closer round -Helen she seemed dearer to me than ever I felt as if I could -not let her go I lay with my face hidden on her neck. Presently -she said, in the sweetest tone -"How comfortable I am That last fit of coughing has tired me a -little I feel as if I could sleep but don't leave me, Jane I -like to have you near me." -"I'll stay with you, DEAR Helen no one shall take me away." -"Are you warm, darling?" -"Yes." -"Goodnight, Jane." -"Goodnight, Helen." -She kissed me, and I her, and we both soon slumbered. -When I awoke it was day an unusual movement roused me I looked -up I was in somebody's arms the nurse held me she was carrying -me through the passage back to the dormitory. I was not reprimanded -for leaving my bed people had something else to think about no -explanation was afforded then to my many questions but a day or -two afterwards I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own -room at dawn, had found me laid in the little crib my face against -Helen Burns's shoulder, my arms round her neck. I was asleep, and -Helen was dead. -Her grave is in Brocklebridge churchyard for fifteen years after -her death it was only covered by a grassy mound but now a grey -marble tablet marks the spot, inscribed with her name, and the word -"Resurgam." -CHAPTER X -Hitherto I have recorded in detail the events of my insignificant -existence to the first ten years of my life I have given almost -as many chapters. But this is not to be a regular autobiography. -I am only bound to invoke Memory where I know her responses will -possess some degree of interest therefore I now pass a space of -eight years almost in silence a few lines only are necessary to -keep up the links of connection. -When the typhus fever had fulfilled its mission of devastation -at Lowood, it gradually disappeared from thence but not till its -virulence and the number of its victims had drawn public attention -on the school. Inquiry was made into the origin of the scourge, and -by degrees various facts came out which excited public indignation -in a high degree. The unhealthy nature of the site the quantity -and quality of the children's food the brackish, fetid water used -in its preparation the pupils' wretched clothing and accommodations -all these things were discovered, and the discovery produced -a result mortifying to Mr. Brocklehurst, but beneficial to the -institution. -Several wealthy and benevolent individuals in the county subscribed -largely for the erection of a more convenient building in a better -situation new regulations were made improvements in diet and -clothing introduced the funds of the school were intrusted to the -management of a committee. Mr. Brocklehurst, who, from his wealth -and family connections, could not be overlooked, still retained the -post of treasurer but he was aided in the discharge of his duties -by gentlemen of rather more enlarged and sympathising minds his -office of inspector, too, was shared by those who knew how to -combine reason with strictness, comfort with economy, compassion -with uprightness. The school, thus improved, became in time a truly -useful and noble institution. I remained an inmate of its walls, -after its regeneration, for eight years six as pupil, and two as -teacher and in both capacities I bear my testimony to its value -and importance. -During these eight years my life was uniform but not unhappy, -because it was not inactive. I had the means of an excellent -education placed within my reach a fondness for some of my studies, -and a desire to excel in all, together with a great delight in -pleasing my teachers, especially such as I loved, urged me on I -availed myself fully of the advantages offered me. In time I rose -to be the first girl of the first class then I was invested with -the office of teacher which I discharged with zeal for two years -but at the end of that time I altered. -Miss Temple, through all changes, had thus far continued superintendent -of the seminary to her instruction I owed the best part of -my acquirements her friendship and society had been my continual -solace she had stood me in the stead of mother, governess, and, -latterly, companion. At this period she married, removed with -her husband a clergyman, an excellent man, almost worthy of such -a wife to a distant county, and consequently was lost to me. -From the day she left I was no longer the same with her was gone -every settled feeling, every association that had made Lowood in -some degree a home to me. I had imbibed from her something of her -nature and much of her habits more harmonious thoughts what -seemed better regulated feelings had become the inmates of my -mind. I had given in allegiance to duty and order I was quiet -I believed I was content to the eyes of others, usually even to -my own, I appeared a disciplined and subdued character. -But destiny, in the shape of the Rev. Mr. Nasmyth, came between -me and Miss Temple I saw her in her travelling dress step into -a postchaise, shortly after the marriage ceremony I watched -the chaise mount the hill and disappear beyond its brow and then -retired to my own room, and there spent in solitude the greatest -part of the halfholiday granted in honour of the occasion. -I walked about the chamber most of the time. I imagined myself -only to be regretting my loss, and thinking how to repair it but -when my reflections were concluded, and I looked up and found that -the afternoon was gone, and evening far advanced, another discovery -dawned on me, namely, that in the interval I had undergone a -transforming process that my mind had put off all it had borrowed -of Miss Temple or rather that she had taken with her the serene -atmosphere I had been breathing in her vicinity and that now I -was left in my natural element, and beginning to feel the stirring -of old emotions. It did not seem as if a prop were withdrawn, -but rather as if a motive were gone it was not the power to be -tranquil which had failed me, but the reason for tranquillity was -no more. My world had for some years been in Lowood my experience -had been of its rules and systems now I remembered that the real -world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of -sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go -forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its -perils. -I went to my window, opened it, and looked out. There were the two -wings of the building there was the garden there were the skirts -of Lowood there was the hilly horizon. My eye passed all other -objects to rest on those most remote, the blue peaks it was those -I longed to surmount all within their boundary of rock and heath -seemed prisonground, exile limits. I traced the white road winding -round the base of one mountain, and vanishing in a gorge between -two how I longed to follow it farther I recalled the time when -I had travelled that very road in a coach I remembered descending -that hill at twilight an age seemed to have elapsed since the day -which brought me first to Lowood, and I had never quitted it since. -My vacations had all been spent at school Mrs. Reed had never -sent for me to Gateshead neither she nor any of her family had ever -been to visit me. I had had no communication by letter or message -with the outer world schoolrules, schoolduties, schoolhabits -and notions, and voices, and faces, and phrases, and costumes, and -preferences, and antipathies such was what I knew of existence. -And now I felt that it was not enough I tired of the routine of -eight years in one afternoon. I desired liberty for liberty I -gasped for liberty I uttered a prayer it seemed scattered on the -wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler -supplication for change, stimulus that petition, too, seemed swept -off into vague space "Then," I cried, half desperate, "grant me -at least a new servitude" -Here a bell, ringing the hour of supper, called me downstairs. -I was not free to resume the interrupted chain of my reflections -till bedtime even then a teacher who occupied the same room -with me kept me from the subject to which I longed to recur, by a -prolonged effusion of small talk. How I wished sleep would silence -her. It seemed as if, could I but go back to the idea which -had last entered my mind as I stood at the window, some inventive -suggestion would rise for my relief. -Miss Gryce snored at last she was a heavy Welshwoman, and till -now her habitual nasal strains had never been regarded by me in any -other light than as a nuisance tonight I hailed the first deep -notes with satisfaction I was debarrassed of interruption my -halfeffaced thought instantly revived. -"A new servitude There is something in that," I soliloquised -mentally, be it understood I did not talk aloud, "I know there -is, because it does not sound too sweet it is not like such words -as Liberty, Excitement, Enjoyment delightful sounds truly but -no more than sounds for me and so hollow and fleeting that it is -mere waste of time to listen to them. But Servitude That must -be matter of fact. Any one may serve I have served here eight -years now all I want is to serve elsewhere. Can I not get so much -of my own will? Is not the thing feasible? Yes yes the end -is not so difficult if I had only a brain active enough to ferret -out the means of attaining it." -I sat up in bed by way of arousing this said brain it was a chilly -night I covered my shoulders with a shawl, and then I proceeded -TO THINK again with all my might. -"What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, -under new circumstances I want this because it is of no use wanting -anything better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply -to friends, I suppose I have no friends. There are many others -who have no friends, who must look about for themselves and be -their own helpers and what is their resource?" -I could not tell nothing answered me I then ordered my brain to -find a response, and quickly. It worked and worked faster I felt -the pulses throb in my head and temples but for nearly an hour -it worked in chaos and no result came of its efforts. Feverish -with vain labour, I got up and took a turn in the room undrew the -curtain, noted a star or two, shivered with cold, and again crept -to bed. -A kind fairy, in my absence, had surely dropped the required suggestion -on my pillow for as I lay down, it came quietly and naturally to -my mind. "Those who want situations advertise you must advertise -in the shire Herald." -"How? I know nothing about advertising." -Replies rose smooth and prompt now -"You must enclose the advertisement and the money to pay for it -under a cover directed to the editor of the Herald you must put -it, the first opportunity you have, into the post at Lowton answers -must be addressed to J.E., at the postoffice there you can go -and inquire in about a week after you send your letter, if any are -come, and act accordingly." -This scheme I went over twice, thrice it was then digested in my -mind I had it in a clear practical form I felt satisfied, and -fell asleep. -With earliest day, I was up I had my advertisement written, -enclosed, and directed before the bell rang to rouse the school -it ran thus -"A young lady accustomed to tuition" had I not been a teacher -two years? "is desirous of meeting with a situation in a private -family where the children are under fourteen I thought that as I -was barely eighteen, it would not do to undertake the guidance of -pupils nearer my own age. She is qualified to teach the usual -branches of a good English education, together with French, Drawing, -and Music" in those days, reader, this now narrow catalogue of -accomplishments, would have been held tolerably comprehensive. -"Address, J.E., Postoffice, Lowton, shire." -This document remained locked in my drawer all day after tea, -I asked leave of the new superintendent to go to Lowton, in order -to perform some small commissions for myself and one or two of my -fellowteachers permission was readily granted I went. It was a -walk of two miles, and the evening was wet, but the days were still -long I visited a shop or two, slipped the letter into the postoffice, -and came back through heavy rain, with streaming garments, but with -a relieved heart. -The succeeding week seemed long it came to an end at last, however, -like all sublunary things, and once more, towards the close of a -pleasant autumn day, I found myself afoot on the road to Lowton. A -picturesque track it was, by the way lying along the side of the -beck and through the sweetest curves of the dale but that day I -thought more of the letters, that might or might not be awaiting -me at the little burgh whither I was bound, than of the charms of -lea and water. -My ostensible errand on this occasion was to get measured for -a pair of shoes so I discharged that business first, and when it -was done, I stepped across the clean and quiet little street from -the shoemaker's to the postoffice it was kept by an old dame, who -wore horn spectacles on her nose, and black mittens on her hands. -"Are there any letters for J.E.?" I asked. -She peered at me over her spectacles, and then she opened a drawer and -fumbled among its contents for a long time, so long that my hopes -began to falter. At last, having held a document before her glasses -for nearly five minutes, she presented it across the counter, -accompanying the act by another inquisitive and mistrustful glance -it was for J.E. -"Is there only one?" I demanded. -"There are no more," said she and I put it in my pocket and turned -my face homeward I could not open it then rules obliged me to -be back by eight, and it was already halfpast seven. -Various duties awaited me on my arrival. I had to sit with the girls -during their hour of study then it was my turn to read prayers -to see them to bed afterwards I supped with the other teachers. -Even when we finally retired for the night, the inevitable Miss -Gryce was still my companion we had only a short end of candle -in our candlestick, and I dreaded lest she should talk till it -was all burnt out fortunately, however, the heavy supper she had -eaten produced a soporific effect she was already snoring before -I had finished undressing. There still remained an inch of candle -I now took out my letter the seal was an initial F. I broke it -the contents were brief. -"If J.E., who advertised in the shire Herald of last Thursday, -possesses the acquirements mentioned, and if she is in a position -to give satisfactory references as to character and competency, a -situation can be offered her where there is but one pupil, a little -girl, under ten years of age and where the salary is thirty pounds -per annum. J.E. is requested to send references, name, address, -and all particulars to the direction -"Mrs. Fairfax, Thornfield, near Millcote, shire." -I examined the document long the writing was oldfashioned and -rather uncertain, like that of an elderly lady. This circumstance -was satisfactory a private fear had haunted me, that in thus -acting for myself, and by my own guidance, I ran the risk of getting -into some scrape and, above all things, I wished the result of my -endeavours to be respectable, proper, en regle. I now felt that an -elderly lady was no bad ingredient in the business I had on hand. -Mrs. Fairfax I saw her in a black gown and widow's cap frigid, -perhaps, but not uncivil a model of elderly English respectability. -Thornfield that, doubtless, was the name of her house a neat -orderly spot, I was sure though I failed in my efforts to conceive -a correct plan of the premises. Millcote, shire I brushed up -my recollections of the map of England, yes, I saw it both the -shire and the town. shire was seventy miles nearer London than -the remote county where I now resided that was a recommendation -to me. I longed to go where there was life and movement Millcote -was a large manufacturing town on the banks of the A a busy place -enough, doubtless so much the better it would be a complete -change at least. Not that my fancy was much captivated by the idea -of long chimneys and clouds of smoke "but," I argued, "Thornfield -will, probably, be a good way from the town." -Here the socket of the candle dropped, and the wick went out. -Next day new steps were to be taken my plans could no longer be -confined to my own breast I must impart them in order to achieve -their success. Having sought and obtained an audience of the -superintendent during the noontide recreation, I told her I had a -prospect of getting a new situation where the salary would be double -what I now received for at Lowood I only got pounds per annum -and requested she would break the matter for me to Mr. Brocklehurst, -or some of the committee, and ascertain whether they would permit -me to mention them as references. She obligingly consented to -act as mediatrix in the matter. The next day she laid the affair -before Mr. Brocklehurst, who said that Mrs. Reed must be written to, -as she was my natural guardian. A note was accordingly addressed to -that lady, who returned for answer, that "I might do as I pleased -she had long relinquished all interference in my affairs." This note -went the round of the committee, and at last, after what appeared -to me most tedious delay, formal leave was given me to better my -condition if I could and an assurance added, that as I had always -conducted myself well, both as teacher and pupil, at Lowood, a -testimonial of character and capacity, signed by the inspectors of -that institution, should forthwith be furnished me. -This testimonial I accordingly received in about a month, forwarded -a copy of it to Mrs. Fairfax, and got that lady's reply, stating -that she was satisfied, and fixing that day fortnight as the period -for my assuming the post of governess in her house. -I now busied myself in preparations the fortnight passed rapidly. -I had not a very large wardrobe, though it was adequate to my -wants and the last day sufficed to pack my trunk, the same I -had brought with me eight years ago from Gateshead. -The box was corded, the card nailed on. In halfanhour the -carrier was to call for it to take it to Lowton, whither I myself -was to repair at an early hour the next morning to meet the coach. -I had brushed my black stuff travellingdress, prepared my bonnet, -gloves, and muff sought in all my drawers to see that no article -was left behind and now having nothing more to do, I sat down and -tried to rest. I could not though I had been on foot all day, I -could not now repose an instant I was too much excited. A phase -of my life was closing tonight, a new one opening tomorrow -impossible to slumber in the interval I must watch feverishly -while the change was being accomplished. -"Miss," said a servant who met me in the lobby, where I was wandering -like a troubled spirit, "a person below wishes to see you." -"The carrier, no doubt," I thought, and ran downstairs without -inquiry. I was passing the backparlour or teachers' sittingroom, -the door of which was half open, to go to the kitchen, -when some one ran out -"It's her, I am sure I could have told her anywhere" cried -the individual who stopped my progress and took my hand. -I looked I saw a woman attired like a welldressed servant, -matronly, yet still young very goodlooking, with black hair and -eyes, and lively complexion. -"Well, who is it?" she asked, in a voice and with a smile I half -recognised "you've not quite forgotten me, I think, Miss Jane?" -In another second I was embracing and kissing her rapturously -"Bessie Bessie Bessie" that was all I said whereat she half -laughed, half cried, and we both went into the parlour. By the -fire stood a little fellow of three years old, in plaid frock and -trousers. -"That is my little boy," said Bessie directly. -"Then you are married, Bessie?" -"Yes nearly five years since to Robert Leaven, the coachman and -I've a little girl besides Bobby there, that I've christened Jane." -"And you don't live at Gateshead?" -"I live at the lodge the old porter has left." -"Well, and how do they all get on? Tell me everything about them, -Bessie but sit down first and, Bobby, come and sit on my knee, -will you?" but Bobby preferred sidling over to his mother. -"You're not grown so very tall, Miss Jane, nor so very stout," -continued Mrs. Leaven. "I dare say they've not kept you too well -at school Miss Reed is the head and shoulders taller than you -are and Miss Georgiana would make two of you in breadth." -"Georgiana is handsome, I suppose, Bessie?" -"Very. She went up to London last winter with her mama, and there -everybody admired her, and a young lord fell in love with her but -his relations were against the match and what do you think? -he and Miss Georgiana made it up to run away but they were found -out and stopped. It was Miss Reed that found them out I believe -she was envious and now she and her sister lead a cat -and dog life together they are always quarrelling " -"Well, and what of John Reed?" -"Oh, he is not doing so well as his mama could wish. He went to -college, and he got plucked, I think they call it and then -his uncles wanted him to be a barrister, and study the law but he -is such a dissipated young man, they will never make much of him, -I think." -"What does he look like?" -"He is very tall some people call him a finelooking young man -but he has such thick lips." -"And Mrs. Reed?" -"Missis looks stout and well enough in the face, but I think she's -not quite easy in her mind Mr. John's conduct does not please -her he spends a deal of money." -"Did she send you here, Bessie?" -"No, indeed but I have long wanted to see you, and when I heard -that there had been a letter from you, and that you were going to -another part of the country, I thought I'd just set off, and get -a look at you before you were quite out of my reach." -"I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie." I said this -laughing I perceived that Bessie's glance, though it expressed -regard, did in no shape denote admiration. -"No, Miss Jane, not exactly you are genteel enough you look like -a lady, and it is as much as ever I expected of you you were no -beauty as a child." -I smiled at Bessie's frank answer I felt that it was correct, but -I confess I was not quite indifferent to its import at eighteen -most people wish to please, and the conviction that they have not an -exterior likely to second that desire brings anything but gratification. -"I dare say you are clever, though," continued Bessie, by way of -solace. "What can you do? Can you play on the piano?" -"A little." -There was one in the room Bessie went and opened it, and then asked -me to sit down and give her a tune I played a waltz or two, and -she was charmed. -"The Miss Reeds could not play as well" said she exultingly. "I -always said you would surpass them in learning and can you draw?" -"That is one of my paintings over the chimneypiece." It was a -landscape in water colours, of which I had made a present to the -superintendent, in acknowledgment of her obliging mediation with -the committee on my behalf, and which she had framed and glazed. -"Well, that is beautiful, Miss Jane It is as fine a picture as -any Miss Reed's drawingmaster could paint, let alone the young -ladies themselves, who could not come near it and have you learnt -French?" -"Yes, Bessie, I can both read it and speak it." -"And you can work on muslin and canvas?" -"I can." -"Oh, you are quite a lady, Miss Jane I knew you would be you -will get on whether your relations notice you or not. There was -something I wanted to ask you. Have you ever heard anything from -your father's kinsfolk, the Eyres?" -"Never in my life." -"Well, you know Missis always said they were poor and quite -despicable and they may be poor but I believe they are as much -gentry as the Reeds are for one day, nearly seven years ago, a -Mr. Eyre came to Gateshead and wanted to see you Missis said you -were it school fifty miles off he seemed so much disappointed, for -he could not stay he was going on a voyage to a foreign country, -and the ship was to sail from London in a day or two. He looked -quite a gentleman, and I believe he was your father's brother." -"What foreign country was he going to, Bessie?" -"An island thousands of miles off, where they make wine -the butler did tell me " -"Madeira?" I suggested. -"Yes, that is it that is the very word." -"So he went?" -"Yes he did not stay many minutes in the house Missis was very -high with him she called him afterwards a 'sneaking tradesman.' -My Robert believes he was a winemerchant." -"Very likely," I returned "or perhaps clerk or agent to a -winemerchant." -Bessie and I conversed about old times an hour longer, and then -she was obliged to leave me I saw her again for a few minutes -the next morning at Lowton, while I was waiting for the coach. We -parted finally at the door of the Brocklehurst Arms there each -went her separate way she set off for the brow of Lowood Fell -to meet the conveyance which was to take her back to Gateshead, I -mounted the vehicle which was to bear me to new duties and a new -life in the unknown environs of Millcote. -CHAPTER XI -A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play -and when I draw up the curtain this time, reader, you must fancy you -see a room in the George Inn at Millcote, with such large figured -papering on the walls as inn rooms have such a carpet, such -furniture, such ornaments on the mantelpiece, such prints, including -a portrait of George the Third, and another of the Prince of Wales, -and a representation of the death of Wolfe. All this is visible -to you by the light of an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, and -by that of an excellent fire, near which I sit in my cloak and -bonnet my muff and umbrella lie on the table, and I am warming -away the numbness and chill contracted by sixteen hours' exposure -to the rawness of an October day I left Lowton at four o'clock -a.m., and the Millcote town clock is now just striking eight. -Reader, though I look comfortably accommodated, I am not very tranquil -in my mind. I thought when the coach stopped here there would be -some one to meet me I looked anxiously round as I descended the -wooden steps the "boots" placed for my convenience, expecting to -hear my name pronounced, and to see some description of carriage -waiting to convey me to Thornfield. Nothing of the sort was -visible and when I asked a waiter if any one had been to inquire -after a Miss Eyre, I was answered in the negative so I had no -resource but to request to be shown into a private room and here -I am waiting, while all sorts of doubts and fears are troubling my -thoughts. -It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feel -itself quite alone in the world, cut adrift from every connection, -uncertain whether the port to which it is bound can be reached, -and prevented by many impediments from returning to that it has -quitted. The charm of adventure sweetens that sensation, the glow -of pride warms it but then the throb of fear disturbs it and fear -with me became predominant when halfanhour elapsed and still I -was alone. I bethought myself to ring the bell. -"Is there a place in this neighbourhood called Thornfield?" I -asked of the waiter who answered the summons. -"Thornfield? I don't know, ma'am I'll inquire at the -bar." He vanished, but reappeared instantly -"Is your name Eyre, Miss?" -"Yes." -"Person here waiting for you." -I jumped up, took my muff and umbrella, and hastened into the inn -passage a man was standing by the open door, and in the lamplit -street I dimly saw a onehorse conveyance. -"This will be your luggage, I suppose?" said the man rather abruptly -when he saw me, pointing to my trunk in the passage. -"Yes." He hoisted it on to the vehicle, which was a sort of car, -and then I got in before he shut me up, I asked him how far it -was to Thornfield. -"A matter of six miles." -"How long shall we be before we get there?" -"Happen an hour and a half." -He fastened the car door, climbed to his own seat outside, and -we set off. Our progress was leisurely, and gave me ample time -to reflect I was content to be at length so near the end of my -journey and as I leaned back in the comfortable though not elegant -conveyance, I meditated much at my ease. -"I suppose," thought I, "judging from the plainness of the servant -and carriage, Mrs. Fairfax is not a very dashing person so much -the better I never lived amongst fine people but once, and I was -very miserable with them. I wonder if she lives alone except this -little girl if so, and if she is in any degree amiable, I shall -surely be able to get on with her I will do my best it is a pity -that doing one's best does not always answer. At Lowood, indeed, -I took that resolution, kept it, and succeeded in pleasing but -with Mrs. Reed, I remember my best was always spurned with scorn. -I pray God Mrs. Fairfax may not turn out a second Mrs. Reed but -if she does, I am not bound to stay with her let the worst come -to the worst, I can advertise again. How far are we on our road -now, I wonder?" -I let down the window and looked out Millcote was behind us judging -by the number of its lights, it seemed a place of considerable -magnitude, much larger than Lowton. We were now, as far as I could -see, on a sort of common but there were houses scattered all over -the district I felt we were in a different region to Lowood, more -populous, less picturesque more stirring, less romantic. -The roads were heavy, the night misty my conductor let his horse -walk all the way, and the hour and a half extended, I verily -believe, to two hours at last he turned in his seat and said -"You're noan so far fro' Thornfield now." -Again I looked out we were passing a church I saw its low broad -tower against the sky, and its bell was tolling a quarter I saw -a narrow galaxy of lights too, on a hillside, marking a village or -hamlet. About ten minutes after, the driver got down and opened a -pair of gates we passed through, and they clashed to behind us. -We now slowly ascended a drive, and came upon the long front of a -house candlelight gleamed from one curtained bowwindow all the -rest were dark. The car stopped at the front door it was opened -by a maidservant I alighted and went in. -"Will you walk this way, ma'am?" said the girl and I followed -her across a square hall with high doors all round she ushered me -into a room whose double illumination of fire and candle at first -dazzled me, contrasting as it did with the darkness to which my -eyes had been for two hours inured when I could see, however, a -cosy and agreeable picture presented itself to my view. -A snug small room a round table by a cheerful fire an armchair -highbacked and oldfashioned, wherein sat the neatest imaginable -little elderly lady, in widow's cap, black silk gown, and snowy -muslin apron exactly like what I had fancied Mrs. Fairfax, only -less stately and milder looking. She was occupied in knitting a -large cat sat demurely at her feet nothing in short was wanting -to complete the beauideal of domestic comfort. A more reassuring -introduction for a new governess could scarcely be conceived -there was no grandeur to overwhelm, no stateliness to embarrass -and then, as I entered, the old lady got up and promptly and kindly -came forward to meet me. -"How do you do, my dear? I am afraid you have had a tedious ride -John drives so slowly you must be cold, come to the fire." -"Mrs. Fairfax, I suppose?" said I. -"Yes, you are right do sit down." -She conducted me to her own chair, and then began to remove my shawl -and untie my bonnetstrings I begged she would not give herself -so much trouble. -"Oh, it is no trouble I dare say your own hands are almost numbed -with cold. Leah, make a little hot negus and cut a sandwich or -two here are the keys of the storeroom." -And she produced from her pocket a most housewifely bunch of keys, -and delivered them to the servant. -"Now, then, draw nearer to the fire," she continued. "You've -brought your luggage with you, haven't you, my dear?" -"Yes, ma'am." -"I'll see it carried into your room," she said, and bustled out. -"She treats me like a visitor," thought I. "I little expected such -a reception I anticipated only coldness and stiffness this is -not like what I have heard of the treatment of governesses but I -must not exult too soon." -She returned with her own hands cleared her knitting apparatus -and a book or two from the table, to make room for the tray which -Leah now brought, and then herself handed me the refreshments. I -felt rather confused at being the object of more attention than -I had ever before received, and, that too, shown by my employer -and superior but as she did not herself seem to consider she was -doing anything out of her place, I thought it better to take her -civilities quietly. -"Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax tonight?" I -asked, when I had partaken of what she offered me. -"What did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf," returned the good -lady, approaching her ear to my mouth. -I repeated the question more distinctly. -"Miss Fairfax? Oh, you mean Miss Varens Varens is the name of -your future pupil." -"Indeed Then she is not your daughter?" -"No, I have no family." -I should have followed up my first inquiry, by asking in what way -Miss Varens was connected with her but I recollected it was not -polite to ask too many questions besides, I was sure to hear in -time. -"I am so glad," she continued, as she sat down opposite to me, and -took the cat on her knee "I am so glad you are come it will be -quite pleasant living here now with a companion. To be sure it -is pleasant at any time for Thornfield is a fine old hall, rather -neglected of late years perhaps, but still it is a respectable -place yet you know in wintertime one feels dreary quite alone in -the best quarters. I say alone Leah is a nice girl to be sure, -and John and his wife are very decent people but then you see -they are only servants, and one can't converse with them on terms -of equality one must keep them at due distance, for fear of losing -one's authority. I'm sure last winter it was a very severe one, -if you recollect, and when it did not snow, it rained and blew, -not a creature but the butcher and postman came to the house, from -November till February and I really got quite melancholy with sitting -night after night alone I had Leah in to read to me sometimes -but I don't think the poor girl liked the task much she felt it -confining. In spring and summer one got on better sunshine and -long days make such a difference and then, just at the commencement -of this autumn, little Adela Varens came and her nurse a child -makes a house alive all at once and now you are here I shall be -quite gay." -My heart really warmed to the worthy lady as I heard her talk and -I drew my chair a little nearer to her, and expressed my sincere -wish that she might find my company as agreeable as she anticipated. -"But I'll not keep you sitting up late tonight," said she "it is -on the stroke of twelve now, and you have been travelling all day -you must feel tired. If you have got your feet well warmed, I'll -show you your bedroom. I've had the room next to mine prepared for -you it is only a small apartment, but I thought you would like it -better than one of the large front chambers to be sure they have -finer furniture, but they are so dreary and solitary, I never sleep -in them myself." -I thanked her for her considerate choice, and as I really felt -fatigued with my long journey, expressed my readiness to retire. -She took her candle, and I followed her from the room. First she -went to see if the halldoor was fastened having taken the key -from the lock, she led the way upstairs. The steps and banisters -were of oak the staircase window was high and latticed both it -and the long gallery into which the bedroom doors opened looked -as if they belonged to a church rather than a house. A very chill -and vaultlike air pervaded the stairs and gallery, suggesting cheerless -ideas of space and solitude and I was glad, when finally ushered -into my chamber, to find it of small dimensions, and furnished in -ordinary, modern style. -When Mrs. Fairfax had bidden me a kind goodnight, and I had fastened -my door, gazed leisurely round, and in some measure effaced the -eerie impression made by that wide hall, that dark and spacious -staircase, and that long, cold gallery, by the livelier aspect of -my little room, I remembered that, after a day of bodily fatigue -and mental anxiety, I was now at last in safe haven. The impulse -of gratitude swelled my heart, and I knelt down at the bedside, -and offered up thanks where thanks were due not forgetting, ere I -rose, to implore aid on my further path, and the power of meriting -the kindness which seemed so frankly offered me before it was -earned. My couch had no thorns in it that night my solitary room -no fears. At once weary and content, I slept soon and soundly -when I awoke it was broad day. -The chamber looked such a bright little place to me as the sun shone -in between the gay blue chintz window curtains, showing papered -walls and a carpeted floor, so unlike the bare planks and stained -plaster of Lowood, that my spirits rose at the view. Externals -have a great effect on the young I thought that a fairer era of -life was beginning for me, one that was to have its flowers and -pleasures, as well as its thorns and toils. My faculties, roused -by the change of scene, the new field offered to hope, seemed all -astir. I cannot precisely define what they expected, but it was -something pleasant not perhaps that day or that month, but at an -indefinite future period. -I rose I dressed myself with care obliged to be plain for I -had no article of attire that was not made with extreme simplicity -I was still by nature solicitous to be neat. It was not my habit -to be disregardful of appearance or careless of the impression I -made on the contrary, I ever wished to look as well as I could, -and to please as much as my want of beauty would permit. I sometimes -regretted that I was not handsomer I sometimes wished to have rosy -cheeks, a straight nose, and small cherry mouth I desired to be -tall, stately, and finely developed in figure I felt it a misfortune -that I was so little, so pale, and had features so irregular and -so marked. And why had I these aspirations and these regrets? -It would be difficult to say I could not then distinctly say it -to myself yet I had a reason, and a logical, natural reason too. -However, when I had brushed my hair very smooth, and put on my black -frock which, Quakerlike as it was, at least had the merit of -fitting to a nicety and adjusted my clean white tucker, I thought -I should do respectably enough to appear before Mrs. Fairfax, and -that my new pupil would not at least recoil from me with antipathy. -Having opened my chamber window, and seen that I left all things -straight and neat on the toilet table, I ventured forth. -Traversing the long and matted gallery, I descended the slippery -steps of oak then I gained the hall I halted there a minute I -looked at some pictures on the walls one, I remember, represented -a grim man in a cuirass, and one a lady with powdered hair and a -pearl necklace, at a bronze lamp pendent from the ceiling, at a great -clock whose case was of oak curiously carved, and ebon black with -time and rubbing. Everything appeared very stately and imposing to -me but then I was so little accustomed to grandeur. The halldoor, -which was half of glass, stood open I stepped over the threshold. -It was a fine autumn morning the early sun shone serenely on -embrowned groves and still green fields advancing on to the lawn, -I looked up and surveyed the front of the mansion. It was three -storeys high, of proportions not vast, though considerable a -gentleman's manorhouse, not a nobleman's seat battlements round -the top gave it a picturesque look. Its grey front stood out well -from the background of a rookery, whose cawing tenants were now on -the wing they flew over the lawn and grounds to alight in a great -meadow, from which these were separated by a sunk fence, and where -an array of mighty old thorn trees, strong, knotty, and broad as -oaks, at once explained the etymology of the mansion's designation. -Farther off were hills not so lofty as those round Lowood, nor so -craggy, nor so like barriers of separation from the living world -but yet quiet and lonely hills enough, and seeming to embrace -Thornfield with a seclusion I had not expected to find existent -so near the stirring locality of Millcote. A little hamlet, whose -roofs were blent with trees, straggled up the side of one of these -hills the church of the district stood nearer Thornfield its -old towertop looked over a knoll between the house and gates. -I was yet enjoying the calm prospect and pleasant fresh air, yet -listening with delight to the cawing of the rooks, yet surveying -the wide, hoary front of the hall, and thinking what a great place -it was for one lonely little dame like Mrs. Fairfax to inhabit, -when that lady appeared at the door. -"What out already?" said she. "I see you are an early riser." -I went up to her, and was received with an affable kiss and shake -of the hand. -"How do you like Thornfield?" she asked. I told her I liked it -very much. -"Yes," she said, "it is a pretty place but I fear it will be -getting out of order, unless Mr. Rochester should take it into his -head to come and reside here permanently or, at least, visit it -rather oftener great houses and fine grounds require the presence -of the proprietor." -"Mr. Rochester" I exclaimed. "Who is he?" -"The owner of Thornfield," she responded quietly. "Did you not -know he was called Rochester?" -Of course I did not I had never heard of him before but the -old lady seemed to regard his existence as a universally understood -fact, with which everybody must be acquainted by instinct. -"I thought," I continued, "Thornfield belonged to you." -"To me? Bless you, child what an idea To me I am only the -housekeeper the manager. To be sure I am distantly related to -the Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was -he was a clergyman, incumbent of Hay that little village yonder -on the hill and that church near the gates was his. The present -Mr. Rochester's mother was a Fairfax, and second cousin to my -husband but I never presume on the connection in fact, it is -nothing to me I consider myself quite in the light of an ordinary -housekeeper my employer is always civil, and I expect nothing -more." -"And the little girl my pupil" -"She is Mr. Rochester's ward he commissioned me to find a governess -for her. He intended to have her brought up in shire, I believe. -Here she comes, with her 'bonne,' as she calls her nurse." The -enigma then was explained this affable and kind little widow was -no great dame but a dependant like myself. I did not like her the -worse for that on the contrary, I felt better pleased than ever. -The equality between her and me was real not the mere result of -condescension on her part so much the better my position was -all the freer. -As I was meditating on this discovery, a little girl, followed by -her attendant, came running up the lawn. I looked at my pupil, -who did not at first appear to notice me she was quite a child, -perhaps seven or eight years old, slightly built, with a pale, -smallfeatured face, and a redundancy of hair falling in curls to -her waist. -"Good morning, Miss Adela," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Come and speak to -the lady who is to teach you, and to make you a clever woman some -day." She approached. -"C'est le ma gouverante" said she, pointing to me, and -addressing her nurse who answered -"Mais oui, certainement." -"Are they foreigners?" I inquired, amazed at hearing the French -language. -"The nurse is a foreigner, and Adela was born on the Continent -and, I believe, never left it till within six months ago. When -she first came here she could speak no English now she can make -shift to talk it a little I don't understand her, she mixes it -so with French but you will make out her meaning very well, I dare -say." -Fortunately I had had the advantage of being taught French by a -French lady and as I had always made a point of conversing with -Madame Pierrot as often as I could, and had besides, during the last -seven years, learnt a portion of French by heart daily applying -myself to take pains with my accent, and imitating as closely as -possible the pronunciation of my teacher, I had acquired a certain -degree of readiness and correctness in the language, and was not -likely to be much at a loss with Mademoiselle Adela. She came and -shook hand with me when she heard that I was her governess and as -I led her in to breakfast, I addressed some phrases to her in her -own tongue she replied briefly at first, but after we were seated -at the table, and she had examined me some ten minutes with her -large hazel eyes, she suddenly commenced chattering fluently. -"Ah" cried she, in French, "you speak my language as well as -Mr. Rochester does I can talk to you as I can to him, and so can -Sophie. She will be glad nobody here understands her Madame -Fairfax is all English. Sophie is my nurse she came with me over -the sea in a great ship with a chimney that smoked how it did -smoke and I was sick, and so was Sophie, and so was Mr. Rochester. -Mr. Rochester lay down on a sofa in a pretty room called the salon, -and Sophie and I had little beds in another place. I nearly fell -out of mine it was like a shelf. And Mademoiselle what is your -name?" -"Eyre Jane Eyre." -"Aire? Bah I cannot say it. Well, our ship stopped in the -morning, before it was quite daylight, at a great city a huge -city, with very dark houses and all smoky not at all like the -pretty clean town I came from and Mr. Rochester carried me in his -arms over a plank to the land, and Sophie came after, and we all -got into a coach, which took us to a beautiful large house, larger -than this and finer, called an hotel. We stayed there nearly a -week I and Sophie used to walk every day in a great green place -full of trees, called the Park and there were many children there -besides me, and a pond with beautiful birds in it, that I fed with -crumbs." -"Can you understand her when she runs on so fast?" asked Mrs. -Fairfax. -I understood her very well, for I had been accustomed to the fluent -tongue of Madame Pierrot. -"I wish," continued the good lady, "you would ask her a question -or two about her parents I wonder if she remembers them?" -"Adele," I inquired, "with whom did you live when you were in that -pretty clean town you spoke of?" -"I lived long ago with mama but she is gone to the Holy Virgin. -Mama used to teach me to dance and sing, and to say verses. A -great many gentlemen and ladies came to see mama, and I used to -dance before them, or to sit on their knees and sing to them I -liked it. Shall I let you hear me sing now?" -She had finished her breakfast, so I permitted her to give a specimen -of her accomplishments. Descending from her chair, she came and -placed herself on my knee then, folding her little hands demurely -before her, shaking back her curls and lifting her eyes to the -ceiling, she commenced singing a song from some opera. It was the -strain of a forsaken lady, who, after bewailing the perfidy of her -lover, calls pride to her aid desires her attendant to deck her -in her brightest jewels and richest robes, and resolves to meet the -false one that night at a ball, and prove to him, by the gaiety of -her demeanour, how little his desertion has affected her. -The subject seemed strangely chosen for an infant singer but -I suppose the point of the exhibition lay in hearing the notes of -love and jealousy warbled with the lisp of childhood and in very -bad taste that point was at least I thought so. -Adele sang the canzonette tunefully enough, and with the naivete -of her age. This achieved, she jumped from my knee and said, "Now, -Mademoiselle, I will repeat you some poetry." -Assuming an attitude, she began, "La Ligue des Rats fable de La -Fontaine." She then declaimed the little piece with an attention -to punctuation and emphasis, a flexibility of voice and an -appropriateness of gesture, very unusual indeed at her age, and -which proved she had been carefully trained. -"Was it your mama who taught you that piece?" I asked. -"Yes, and she just used to say it in this way 'Qu' avez vous -donc? lui dit un de ces rats parlez' She made me lift my hand -so to remind me to raise my voice at the question. Now shall -I dance for you?" -"No, that will do but after your mama went to the Holy Virgin, -as you say, with whom did you live then?" -"With Madame Frederic and her husband she took care of me, but -she is nothing related to me. I think she is poor, for she had -not so fine a house as mama. I was not long there. Mr. Rochester -asked me if I would like to go and live with him in England, and I -said yes for I knew Mr. Rochester before I knew Madame Frederic, -and he was always kind to me and gave me pretty dresses and toys -but you see he has not kept his word, for he has brought me to -England, and now he is gone back again himself, and I never see -him." -After breakfast, Adele and I withdrew to the library, which room, -it appears, Mr. Rochester had directed should be used as the -schoolroom. Most of the books were locked up behind glass doors -but there was one bookcase left open containing everything that -could be needed in the way of elementary works, and several volumes -of light literature, poetry, biography, travels, a few romances, -c. I suppose he had considered that these were all the governess -would require for her private perusal and, indeed, they contented -me amply for the present compared with the scanty pickings I had -now and then been able to glean at Lowood, they seemed to offer an -abundant harvest of entertainment and information. In this room, -too, there was a cabinet piano, quite new and of superior tone -also an easel for painting and a pair of globes. -I found my pupil sufficiently docile, though disinclined to apply -she had not been used to regular occupation of any kind. I felt -it would be injudicious to confine her too much at first so, when -I had talked to her a great deal, and got her to learn a little, -and when the morning had advanced to noon, I allowed her to return -to her nurse. I then proposed to occupy myself till dinnertime -in drawing some little sketches for her use. -As I was going upstairs to fetch my portfolio and pencils, Mrs. -Fairfax called to me "Your morning schoolhours are over now, I -suppose," said she. She was in a room the foldingdoors of which -stood open I went in when she addressed me. It was a large, -stately apartment, with purple chairs and curtains, a Turkey carpet, -walnutpanelled walls, one vast window rich in slanted glass, and -a lofty ceiling, nobly moulded. Mrs. Fairfax was dusting some -vases of fine purple spar, which stood on a sideboard. -"What a beautiful room" I exclaimed, as I looked round for I -had never before seen any half so imposing. -"Yes this is the diningroom. I have just opened the window, to -let in a little air and sunshine for everything gets so damp in -apartments that are seldom inhabited the drawingroom yonder feels -like a vault." -She pointed to a wide arch corresponding to the window, and hung like -it with a Tyriandyed curtain, now looped up. Mounting to it by -two broad steps, and looking through, I thought I caught a glimpse -of a fairy place, so bright to my noviceeyes appeared the view -beyond. Yet it was merely a very pretty drawingroom, and within -it a boudoir, both spread with white carpets, on which seemed laid -brilliant garlands of flowers both ceiled with snowy mouldings of -white grapes and vineleaves, beneath which glowed in rich contrast -crimson couches and ottomans while the ornaments on the pale -Parisian mantelpiece were of sparkling Bohemian glass, ruby red -and between the windows large mirrors repeated the general blending -of snow and fire. -"In what order you keep these rooms, Mrs. Fairfax" said I. "No -dust, no canvas coverings except that the air feels chilly, one -would think they were inhabited daily." -"Why, Miss Eyre, though Mr. Rochester's visits here are rare, they -are always sudden and unexpected and as I observed that it put -him out to find everything swathed up, and to have a bustle of -arrangement on his arrival, I thought it best to keep the rooms in -readiness." -"Is Mr. Rochester an exacting, fastidious sort of man?" -"Not particularly so but he has a gentleman's tastes and habits, -and he expects to have things managed in conformity to them." -"Do you like him? Is he generally liked?" -"Oh, yes the family have always been respected here. Almost all -the land in this neighbourhood, as far as you can see, has belonged -to the Rochesters time out of mind." -"Well, but, leaving his land out of the question, do you like him? -Is he liked for himself?" -"I have no cause to do otherwise than like him and I believe he -is considered a just and liberal landlord by his tenants but he -has never lived much amongst them." -"But has he no peculiarities? What, in short, is his character?" -"Oh his character is unimpeachable, I suppose. He is rather -peculiar, perhaps he has travelled a great deal, and seen a great -deal of the world, I should think. I dare say he is clever, but -I never had much conversation with him." -"In what way is he peculiar?" -"I don't know it is not easy to describe nothing striking, -but you feel it when he speaks to you you cannot be always sure -whether he is in jest or earnest, whether he is pleased or the -contrary you don't thoroughly understand him, in short at least, -I don't but it is of no consequence, he is a very good master." -This was all the account I got from Mrs. Fairfax of her employer -and mine. There are people who seem to have no notion of sketching -a character, or observing and describing salient points, either in -persons or things the good lady evidently belonged to this class -my queries puzzled, but did not draw her out. Mr. Rochester was -Mr. Rochester in her eyes a gentleman, a landed proprietor -nothing more she inquired and searched no further, and evidently -wondered at my wish to gain a more definite notion of his identity. -When we left the diningroom, she proposed to show me over the rest -of the house and I followed her upstairs and downstairs, admiring -as I went for all was well arranged and handsome. The large front -chambers I thought especially grand and some of the thirdstorey -rooms, though dark and low, were interesting from their air of -antiquity. The furniture once appropriated to the lower apartments -had from time to time been removed here, as fashions changed -and the imperfect light entering by their narrow casement showed -bedsteads of a hundred years old chests in oak or walnut, looking, -with their strange carvings of palm branches and cherubs' heads, -like types of the Hebrew ark rows of venerable chairs, highbacked -and narrow stools still more antiquated, on whose cushioned tops -were yet apparent traces of halfeffaced embroideries, wrought by -fingers that for two generations had been coffindust. All these -relics gave to the third storey of Thornfield Hall the aspect of a -home of the past a shrine of memory. I liked the hush, the gloom, -the quaintness of these retreats in the day but I by no means -coveted a night's repose on one of those wide and heavy beds shut -in, some of them, with doors of oak shaded, others, with wrought -old English hangings crusted with thick work, portraying effigies -of strange flowers, and stranger birds, and strangest human beings, -all which would have looked strange, indeed, by the pallid gleam -of moonlight. -"Do the servants sleep in these rooms?" I asked. -"No they occupy a range of smaller apartments to the back no -one ever sleeps here one would almost say that, if there were a -ghost at Thornfield Hall, this would be its haunt." -"So I think you have no ghost, then?" -"None that I ever heard of," returned Mrs. Fairfax, smiling. -"Nor any traditions of one? no legends or ghost stories?" -"I believe not. And yet it is said the Rochesters have been rather -a violent than a quiet race in their time perhaps, though, that -is the reason they rest tranquilly in their graves now." -"Yes 'after life's fitful fever they sleep well,'" I muttered. -"Where are you going now, Mrs. Fairfax?" for she was moving away. -"On to the leads will you come and see the view from thence?" I -followed still, up a very narrow staircase to the attics, and thence -by a ladder and through a trapdoor to the roof of the hall. I -was now on a level with the crow colony, and could see into their -nests. Leaning over the battlements and looking far down, I -surveyed the grounds laid out like a map the bright and velvet -lawn closely girdling the grey base of the mansion the field, -wide as a park, dotted with its ancient timber the wood, dun and -sere, divided by a path visibly overgrown, greener with moss than -the trees were with foliage the church at the gates, the road, the -tranquil hills, all reposing in the autumn day's sun the horizon -bounded by a propitious sky, azure, marbled with pearly white. No -feature in the scene was extraordinary, but all was pleasing. When -I turned from it and repassed the trapdoor, I could scarcely see -my way down the ladder the attic seemed black as a vault compared -with that arch of blue air to which I had been looking up, and to -that sunlit scene of grove, pasture, and green hill, of which the -hall was the centre, and over which I had been gazing with delight. -Mrs. Fairfax stayed behind a moment to fasten the trapdoor I, by -drift of groping, found the outlet from the attic, and proceeded -to descend the narrow garret staircase. I lingered in the long -passage to which this led, separating the front and back rooms of -the third storey narrow, low, and dim, with only one little window -at the far end, and looking, with its two rows of small black doors -all shut, like a corridor in some Bluebeard's castle. -While I paced softly on, the last sound I expected to hear in so -still a region, a laugh, struck my ear. It was a curious laugh -distinct, formal, mirthless. I stopped the sound ceased, only -for an instant it began again, louder for at first, though -distinct, it was very low. It passed off in a clamorous peal that -seemed to wake an echo in every lonely chamber though it originated -but in one, and I could have pointed out the door whence the accents -issued. -"Mrs. Fairfax" I called out for I now heard her descending the -great stairs. "Did you hear that loud laugh? Who is it?" -"Some of the servants, very likely," she answered "perhaps Grace -Poole." -"Did you hear it?" I again inquired. -"Yes, plainly I often hear her she sews in one of these rooms. -Sometimes Leah is with her they are frequently noisy together." -The laugh was repeated in its low, syllabic tone, and terminated -in an odd murmur. -"Grace" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax. -I really did not expect any Grace to answer for the laugh was -as tragic, as preternatural a laugh as any I ever heard and, but -that it was high noon, and that no circumstance of ghostliness -accompanied the curious cachinnation but that neither scene nor -season favoured fear, I should have been superstitiously afraid. -However, the event showed me I was a fool for entertaining a sense -even of surprise. -The door nearest me opened, and a servant came out, a woman of -between thirty and forty a set, squaremade figure, redhaired, -and with a hard, plain face any apparition less romantic or less -ghostly could scarcely be conceived. -"Too much noise, Grace," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Remember directions" -Grace curtseyed silently and went in. -"She is a person we have to sew and assist Leah in her housemaid's -work," continued the widow "not altogether unobjectionable in some -points, but she does well enough. Bythebye, how have you got on -with your new pupil this morning?" -The conversation, thus turned on Adele, continued till we reached -the light and cheerful region below. Adele came running -to meet us in the hall, exclaiming -"Mesdames, vous etes servies" adding, "J'ai bien faim, moi" -We found dinner ready, and waiting for us in Mrs. Fairfax's room. -CHAPTER XII -The promise of a smooth career, which my first calm introduction -to Thornfield Hall seemed to pledge, was not belied on a longer -acquaintance with the place and its inmates. Mrs. Fairfax turned -out to be what she appeared, a placidtempered, kindnatured woman, -of competent education and average intelligence. My pupil was a -lively child, who had been spoilt and indulged, and therefore was -sometimes wayward but as she was committed entirely to my care, -and no injudicious interference from any quarter ever thwarted my -plans for her improvement, she soon forgot her little freaks, and -became obedient and teachable. She had no great talents, no marked -traits of character, no peculiar development of feeling or taste -which raised her one inch above the ordinary level of childhood -but neither had she any deficiency or vice which sunk her below -it. She made reasonable progress, entertained for me a vivacious, -though perhaps not very profound, affection and by her simplicity, -gay prattle, and efforts to please, inspired me, in return, with -a degree of attachment sufficient to make us both content in each -other's society. -This, par parenthese, will be thought cool language by persons who -entertain solemn doctrines about the angelic nature of children, -and the duty of those charged with their education to conceive -for them an idolatrous devotion but I am not writing to flatter -parental egotism, to echo cant, or prop up humbug I am merely -telling the truth. I felt a conscientious solicitude for Adele's -welfare and progress, and a quiet liking for her little self just -as I cherished towards Mrs. Fairfax a thankfulness for her kindness, -and a pleasure in her society proportionate to the tranquil regard -she had for me, and the moderation of her mind and character. -Anybody may blame me who likes, when I add further, that, now and -then, when I took a walk by myself in the grounds when I went -down to the gates and looked through them along the road or when, -while Adele played with her nurse, and Mrs. Fairfax made jellies in -the storeroom, I climbed the three staircases, raised the trapdoor -of the attic, and having reached the leads, looked out afar over -sequestered field and hill, and along dim skyline that then -I longed for a power of vision which might overpass that limit -which might reach the busy world, towns, regions full of life I had -heard of but never seen that then I desired more of practical -experience than I possessed more of intercourse with my kind, of -acquaintance with variety of character, than was here within my -reach. I valued what was good in Mrs. Fairfax, and what was good -in Adele but I believed in the existence of other and more vivid -kinds of goodness, and what I believed in I wished to behold. -Who blames me? Many, no doubt and I shall be called discontented. -I could not help it the restlessness was in my nature it agitated -me to pain sometimes. Then my sole relief was to walk along the -corridor of the third storey, backwards and forwards, safe in the -silence and solitude of the spot, and allow my mind's eye to dwell -on whatever bright visions rose before it and, certainly, they -were many and glowing to let my heart be heaved by the exultant -movement, which, while it swelled it in trouble, expanded it -with life and, best of all, to open my inward ear to a tale that -was never ended a tale my imagination created, and narrated -continuously quickened with all of incident, life, fire, feeling, -that I desired and had not in my actual existence. -It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with -tranquillity they must have action and they will make it if -they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than -mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody -knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in -the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be -very calm generally but women feel just as men feel they need -exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as -much as their brothers do they suffer from too rigid a restraint, -too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer and it -is narrowminded in their more privileged fellowcreatures to say -that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting -stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is -thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do -more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their -sex. -When thus alone, I not unfrequently heard Grace Poole's laugh the -same peal, the same low, slow ha ha which, when first heard, -had thrilled me I heard, too, her eccentric murmurs stranger -than her laugh. There were days when she was quite silent but -there were others when I could not account for the sounds she made. -Sometimes I saw her she would come out of her room with a basin, -or a plate, or a tray in her hand, go down to the kitchen and -shortly return, generally oh, romantic reader, forgive me for -telling the plain truth bearing a pot of porter. Her appearance -always acted as a damper to the curiosity raised by her oral oddities -hardfeatured and staid, she had no point to which interest could -attach. I made some attempts to draw her into conversation, but -she seemed a person of few words a monosyllabic reply usually -cut short every effort of that sort. -The other members of the household, viz., John and his wife, Leah -the housemaid, and Sophie the French nurse, were decent people -but in no respect remarkable with Sophie I used to talk French, -and sometimes I asked her questions about her native country but -she was not of a descriptive or narrative turn, and generally gave -such vapid and confused answers as were calculated rather to check -than encourage inquiry. -October, November, December passed away. One afternoon in January, -Mrs. Fairfax had begged a holiday for Adele, because she had a cold -and, as Adele seconded the request with an ardour that reminded me -how precious occasional holidays had been to me in my own childhood, -I accorded it, deeming that I did well in showing pliability on the -point. It was a fine, calm day, though very cold I was tired of -sitting still in the library through a whole long morning Mrs. -Fairfax had just written a letter which was waiting to be posted, -so I put on my bonnet and cloak and volunteered to carry it to -Hay the distance, two miles, would be a pleasant winter afternoon -walk. Having seen Adele comfortably seated in her little chair by -Mrs. Fairfax's parlour fireside, and given her her best wax doll -which I usually kept enveloped in silver paper in a drawer to -play with, and a storybook for change of amusement and having -replied to her "Revenez bientot, ma bonne amie, ma chere Mdlle. -Jeannette," with a kiss I set out. -The ground was hard, the air was still, my road was lonely I -walked fast till I got warm, and then I walked slowly to enjoy and -analyse the species of pleasure brooding for me in the hour and -situation. It was three o'clock the church bell tolled as I passed -under the belfry the charm of the hour lay in its approaching -dimness, in the lowgliding and palebeaming sun. I was a mile -from Thornfield, in a lane noted for wild roses in summer, for nuts -and blackberries in autumn, and even now possessing a few coral -treasures in hips and haws, but whose best winter delight lay in -its utter solitude and leafless repose. If a breath of air stirred, -it made no sound here for there was not a holly, not an evergreen -to rustle, and the stripped hawthorn and hazel bushes were as still -as the white, worn stones which causewayed the middle of the path. -Far and wide, on each side, there were only fields, where no cattle -now browsed and the little brown birds, which stirred occasionally -in the hedge, looked like single russet leaves that had forgotten -to drop. -This lane inclined uphill all the way to Hay having reached -the middle, I sat down on a stile which led thence into a field. -Gathering my mantle about me, and sheltering my hands in my muff, -I did not feel the cold, though it froze keenly as was attested -by a sheet of ice covering the causeway, where a little brooklet, -now congealed, had overflowed after a rapid thaw some days since. -From my seat I could look down on Thornfield the grey and -battlemented hall was the principal object in the vale below me -its woods and dark rookery rose against the west. I lingered till -the sun went down amongst the trees, and sank crimson and clear -behind them. I then turned eastward. -On the hilltop above me sat the rising moon pale yet as a cloud, -but brightening momentarily, she looked over Hay, which, half lost -in trees, sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys it was yet -a mile distant, but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly its -thin murmurs of life. My ear, too, felt the flow of currents in -what dales and depths I could not tell but there were many hills -beyond Hay, and doubtless many becks threading their passes. That -evening calm betrayed alike the tinkle of the nearest streams, the -sough of the most remote. -A rude noise broke on these fine ripplings and whisperings, at -once so far away and so clear a positive tramp, tramp, a metallic -clatter, which effaced the soft wavewanderings as, in a picture, -the solid mass of a crag, or the rough boles of a great oak, drawn -in dark and strong on the foreground, efface the aerial distance -of azure hill, sunny horizon, and blended clouds where tint melts -into tint. -The din was on the causeway a horse was coming the windings of -the lane yet hid it, but it approached. I was just leaving the -stile yet, as the path was narrow, I sat still to let it go by. -In those days I was young, and all sorts of fancies bright and -dark tenanted my mind the memories of nursery stories were there -amongst other rubbish and when they recurred, maturing youth added -to them a vigour and vividness beyond what childhood could give. -As this horse approached, and as I watched for it to appear through -the dusk, I remembered certain of Bessie's tales, wherein figured -a NorthofEngland spirit called a "Gytrash," which, in the form -of horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and sometimes -came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon -me. -It was very near, but not yet in sight when, in addition to the -tramp, tramp, I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the -hazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made -him a distinct object against the trees. It was exactly one form -of Bessie's Gytrash a lionlike creature with long hair and -a huge head it passed me, however, quietly enough not staying -to look up, with strange pretercanine eyes, in my face, as I half -expected it would. The horse followed, a tall steed, and on its -back a rider. The man, the human being, broke the spell at once. -Nothing ever rode the Gytrash it was always alone and goblins, -to my notions, though they might tenant the dumb carcasses of -beasts, could scarce covet shelter in the commonplace human form. -No Gytrash was this, only a traveller taking the short cut to -Millcote. He passed, and I went on a few steps, and I turned a -sliding sound and an exclamation of "What the deuce is to do now?" -and a clattering tumble, arrested my attention. Man and horse -were down they had slipped on the sheet of ice which glazed the -causeway. The dog came bounding back, and seeing his master in a -predicament, and hearing the horse groan, barked till the evening -hills echoed the sound, which was deep in proportion to his -magnitude. He snuffed round the prostrate group, and then he ran -up to me it was all he could do, there was no other help at -hand to summon. I obeyed him, and walked down to the traveller, by -this time struggling himself free of his steed. His efforts were -so vigorous, I thought he could not be much hurt but I -asked him the question -"Are you injured, sir?" -I think he was swearing, but am not certain however, he was -pronouncing some formula which prevented him from replying to me -directly. -"Can I do anything?" I asked again. -"You must just stand on one side," he answered as he rose, first to -his knees, and then to his feet. I did whereupon began a heaving, -stamping, clattering process, accompanied by a barking and baying -which removed me effectually some yards' distance but I would -not be driven quite away till I saw the event. This was finally -fortunate the horse was reestablished, and the dog was silenced -with a "Down, Pilot" The traveller now, stooping, felt his foot -and leg, as if trying whether they were sound apparently something -ailed them, for he halted to the stile whence I had just risen, -and sat down. -I was in the mood for being useful, or at least officious, I think, -for I now drew near him again. -"If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch some one either -from Thornfield Hall or from Hay." -"Thank you I shall do I have no broken bones, only a sprain" -and again he stood up and tried his foot, but the result extorted -an involuntary "Ugh" -Something of daylight still lingered, and the moon was waxing -bright I could see him plainly. His figure was enveloped in a -riding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped its details were not -apparent, but I traced the general points of middle height and -considerable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with stern -features and a heavy brow his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked -ireful and thwarted just now he was past youth, but had not reached -middleage perhaps he might be thirtyfive. I felt no fear of -him, and but little shyness. Had he been a handsome, heroiclooking -young gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus questioning -him against his will, and offering my services unasked. I had -hardly ever seen a handsome youth never in my life spoken to one. -I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, -gallantry, fascination but had I met those qualities incarnate -in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they -neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should -have shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else -that is bright but antipathetic. -If even this stranger had smiled and been goodhumoured to me when -I addressed him if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily and -with thanks, I should have gone on my way and not felt any vocation -to renew inquiries but the frown, the roughness of the traveller, -set me at my ease I retained my station when he waved -to me to go, and announced -"I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, in this -solitary lane, till I see you are fit to mount your horse." -He looked at me when I said this he had hardly turned his eyes in -my direction before. -"I should think you ought to be at home yourself," said he, "if -you have a home in this neighbourhood where do you come from?" -"From just below and I am not at all afraid of being out late when -it is moonlight I will run over to Hay for you with pleasure, if -you wish it indeed, I am going there to post a letter." -"You live just below do you mean at that house with the -battlements?" pointing to Thornfield Hall, on which the moon cast -a hoary gleam, bringing it out distinct and pale from the woods that, -by contrast with the western sky, now seemed one mass of shadow. -"Yes, sir." -"Whose house is it?" -"Mr. Rochester's." -"Do you know Mr. Rochester?" -"No, I have never seen him." -"He is not resident, then?" -"No." -"Can you tell me where he is?" -"I cannot." -"You are not a servant at the hall, of course. You are " -He stopped, ran his eye over my dress, which, as usual, was quite -simple a black merino cloak, a black beaver bonnet neither -of them half fine enough for a lady'smaid. He seemed puzzled to -decide what I was I helped him. -"I am the governess." -"Ah, the governess" he repeated "deuce take me, if I had not -forgotten The governess" and again my raiment underwent scrutiny. -In two minutes he rose from the stile his face expressed pain -when he tried to move. -"I cannot commission you to fetch help," he said "but you may help -me a little yourself, if you will be so kind." -"Yes, sir." -"You have not an umbrella that I can use as a stick?" -"No." -"Try to get hold of my horse's bridle and lead him to me you are -not afraid?" -I should have been afraid to touch a horse when alone, but when -told to do it, I was disposed to obey. I put down my muff on the -stile, and went up to the tall steed I endeavoured to catch the -bridle, but it was a spirited thing, and would not let me come -near its head I made effort on effort, though in vain meantime, -I was mortally afraid of its trampling forefeet. The traveller -waited and watched for some time, and at last he laughed. -"I see," he said, "the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet, -so all you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain I must -beg of you to come here." -I came. "Excuse me," he continued "necessity compels me to make -you useful." He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and leaning on -me with some stress, limped to his horse. Having once caught the -bridle, he mastered it directly and sprang to his saddle grimacing -grimly as he made the effort, for it wrenched his sprain. -"Now," said he, releasing his under lip from a hard bite, "just -hand me my whip it lies there under the hedge." -I sought it and found it. -"Thank you now make haste with the letter to Hay, and return as -fast as you can." -A touch of a spurred heel made his horse first start and rear, and -then bound away the dog rushed in his traces all three vanished, -"Like heath that, in the wilderness, The wild wind whirls away." -I took up my muff and walked on. The incident had occurred and -was gone for me it WAS an incident of no moment, no romance, -no interest in a sense yet it marked with change one single hour -of a monotonous life. My help had been needed and claimed I had -given it I was pleased to have done something trivial, transitory -though the deed was, it was yet an active thing, and I was weary -of an existence all passive. The new face, too, was like a new -picture introduced to the gallery of memory and it was dissimilar -to all the others hanging there firstly, because it was masculine -and, secondly, because it was dark, strong, and stern. I had it -still before me when I entered Hay, and slipped the letter into -the post office I saw it as I walked fast downhill all the way -home. When I came to the stile, I stopped a minute, looked round -and listened, with an idea that a horse's hoofs might ring on the -causeway again, and that a rider in a cloak, and a Gytrashlike -Newfoundland dog, might be again apparent I saw only the hedge -and a pollard willow before me, rising up still and straight to -meet the moonbeams I heard only the faintest waft of wind roaming -fitful among the trees round Thornfield, a mile distant and when -I glanced down in the direction of the murmur, my eye, traversing -the hallfront, caught a light kindling in a window it reminded -me that I was late, and I hurried on. -I did not like reentering Thornfield. To pass its threshold was -to return to stagnation to cross the silent hall, to ascend the -darksome staircase, to seek my own lonely little room, and then to -meet tranquil Mrs. Fairfax, and spend the long winter evening with -her, and her only, was to quell wholly the faint excitement wakened -by my walk, to slip again over my faculties the viewless fetters -of an uniform and too still existence of an existence whose -very privileges of security and ease I was becoming incapable of -appreciating. What good it would have done me at that time to have -been tossed in the storms of an uncertain struggling life, and to -have been taught by rough and bitter experience to long for the -calm amidst which I now repined Yes, just as much good as it -would do a man tired of sitting still in a "too easy chair" to take -a long walk and just as natural was the wish to stir, under my -circumstances, as it would be under his. -I lingered at the gates I lingered on the lawn I paced backwards -and forwards on the pavement the shutters of the glass door were -closed I could not see into the interior and both my eyes and -spirit seemed drawn from the gloomy house from the greyhollow -filled with rayless cells, as it appeared to me to that sky -expanded before me, a blue sea absolved from taint of cloud -the moon ascending it in solemn march her orb seeming to look up -as she left the hilltops, from behind which she had come, far and -farther below her, and aspired to the zenith, midnight dark in its -fathomless depth and measureless distance and for those trembling -stars that followed her course they made my heart tremble, my -veins glow when I viewed them. Little things recall us to earth -the clock struck in the hall that sufficed I turned from moon -and stars, opened a sidedoor, and went in. -The hall was not dark, nor yet was it lit, only by the highhung -bronze lamp a warm glow suffused both it and the lower steps of the -oak staircase. This ruddy shine issued from the great diningroom, -whose twoleaved door stood open, and showed a genial fire in the -grate, glancing on marble hearth and brass fireirons, and revealing -purple draperies and polished furniture, in the most pleasant -radiance. It revealed, too, a group near the mantelpiece I had -scarcely caught it, and scarcely become aware of a cheerful mingling -of voices, amongst which I seemed to distinguish the tones of Adele, -when the door closed. -I hastened to Mrs. Fairfax's room there was a fire there too, -but no candle, and no Mrs. Fairfax. Instead, all alone, sitting -upright on the rug, and gazing with gravity at the blaze, I beheld -a great black and white longhaired dog, just like the Gytrash of -the lane. It was so like it that I went forward and said "Pilot" -and the thing got up and came to me and snuffed me. I caressed -him, and he wagged his great tail but he looked an eerie creature -to be alone with, and I could not tell whence he had come. I -rang the bell, for I wanted a candle and I wanted, too, to get an -account of this visitant. Leah entered. -"What dog is this?" -"He came with master." -"With whom?" -"With master Mr. Rochester he is just arrived." -"Indeed and is Mrs. Fairfax with him?" -"Yes, and Miss Adele they are in the diningroom, and John is gone -for a surgeon for master has had an accident his horse fell and -his ankle is sprained." -"Did the horse fall in Hay Lane?" -"Yes, coming downhill it slipped on some ice." -"Ah Bring me a candle will you Leah?" -Leah brought it she entered, followed by Mrs. Fairfax, who repeated -the news adding that Mr. Carter the surgeon was come, and was now -with Mr. Rochester then she hurried out to give orders about tea, -and I went upstairs to take off my things. -CHAPTER XIII -Mr. Rochester, it seems, by the surgeon's orders, went to bed early -that night nor did he rise soon next morning. When he did come -down, it was to attend to business his agent and some of his -tenants were arrived, and waiting to speak with him. -Adele and I had now to vacate the library it would be in daily -requisition as a receptionroom for callers. A fire was lit in -an apartment upstairs, and there I carried our books, and arranged -it for the future schoolroom. I discerned in the course of the -morning that Thornfield Hall was a changed place no longer silent -as a church, it echoed every hour or two to a knock at the door, -or a clang of the bell steps, too, often traversed the hall, and -new voices spoke in different keys below a rill from the outer world -was flowing through it it had a master for my part, I liked it -better. -Adele was not easy to teach that day she could not apply she -kept running to the door and looking over the banisters to see if -she could get a glimpse of Mr. Rochester then she coined pretexts -to go downstairs, in order, as I shrewdly suspected, to visit the -library, where I knew she was not wanted then, when I got a little -angry, and made her sit still, she continued to talk incessantly -of her "ami, Monsieur Edouard Fairfax DE Rochester," as she dubbed -him I had not before heard his prenomens, and to conjecture -what presents he had brought her for it appears he had intimated -the night before, that when his luggage came from Millcote, there -would be found amongst it a little box in whose contents she had -an interest. -"Et cela doit signifier," said she, "qu'il y aura le dedans un cadeau -pour moi, et peutetre pour vous aussi, mademoiselle. Monsieur -a parle de vous il m'a demande le nom de ma gouvernante, et si -elle n'etait pas une petite personne, assez mince et un peu pale. -J'ai dit qu'oui car c'est vrai, n'estce pas, mademoiselle?" -I and my pupil dined as usual in Mrs. Fairfax's parlour the -afternoon was wild and snowy, and we passed it in the schoolroom. -At dark I allowed Adele to put away books and work, and to -run downstairs for, from the comparative silence below, and from -the cessation of appeals to the doorbell, I conjectured that Mr. -Rochester was now at liberty. Left alone, I walked to the window -but nothing was to be seen thence twilight and snowflakes together -thickened the air, and hid the very shrubs on the lawn. I let down -the curtain and went back to the fireside. -In the clear embers I was tracing a view, not unlike a picture I -remembered to have seen of the castle of Heidelberg, on the Rhine, -when Mrs. Fairfax came in, breaking up by her entrance the fiery -mosaic I had been piercing together, and scattering too some heavy -unwelcome thoughts that were beginning to throng on my solitude. -"Mr. Rochester would be glad if you and your pupil would take tea -with him in the drawingroom this evening," said she "he has been -so much engaged all day that he could not ask to see you before." -"When is his teatime?" I inquired. -"Oh, at six o'clock he keeps early hours in the country. You -had better change your frock now I will go with you and fasten -it. Here is a candle." -"Is it necessary to change my frock?" -"Yes, you had better I always dress for the evening when Mr. -Rochester is here." -This additional ceremony seemed somewhat stately however, I repaired -to my room, and, with Mrs. Fairfax's aid, replaced my black stuff -dress by one of black silk the best and the only additional one -I had, except one of light grey, which, in my Lowood notions of -the toilette, I thought too fine to be worn, except on firstrate -occasions. -"You want a brooch," said Mrs. Fairfax. I had a single little pearl -ornament which Miss Temple gave me as a parting keepsake I put -it on, and then we went downstairs. Unused as I was to strangers, -it was rather a trial to appear thus formally summoned in -Mr. Rochester's presence. I let Mrs. Fairfax precede me into the -diningroom, and kept in her shade as we crossed that apartment -and, passing the arch, whose curtain was now dropped, entered the -elegant recess beyond. -Two wax candles stood lighted on the table, and two on the mantelpiece -basking in the light and heat of a superb fire, lay Pilot Adele -knelt near him. Half reclined on a couch appeared Mr. Rochester, -his foot supported by the cushion he was looking at Adele and the -dog the fire shone full on his face. I knew my traveller with -his broad and jetty eyebrows his square forehead, made squarer by -the horizontal sweep of his black hair. I recognised his decisive -nose, more remarkable for character than beauty his full nostrils, -denoting, I thought, choler his grim mouth, chin, and jaw yes, -all three were very grim, and no mistake. His shape, now divested -of cloak, I perceived harmonised in squareness with his physiognomy -I suppose it was a good figure in the athletic sense of the term -broad chested and thin flanked, though neither tall nor graceful. -Mr. Rochester must have been aware of the entrance of Mrs. Fairfax -and myself but it appeared he was not in the mood to notice us, -for he never lifted his head as we approached. -"Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way. -He bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog and -child. -"Let Miss Eyre be seated," said he and there was something in the -forced stiff bow, in the impatient yet formal tone, which seemed -further to express, "What the deuce is it to me whether Miss Eyre -be there or not? At this moment I am not disposed to accost her." -I sat down quite disembarrassed. A reception of finished politeness -would probably have confused me I could not have returned or -repaid it by answering grace and elegance on my part but harsh -caprice laid me under no obligation on the contrary, a decent -quiescence, under the freak of manner, gave me the advantage. -Besides, the eccentricity of the proceeding was piquant I felt -interested to see how he would go on. -He went on as a statue would, that is, he neither spoke nor moved. -Mrs. Fairfax seemed to think it necessary that some one should be -amiable, and she began to talk. Kindly, as usual and, as usual, -rather trite she condoled with him on the pressure of business -he had had all day on the annoyance it must have been to him with -that painful sprain then she commended his patience and perseverance -in going through with it. -"Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinder she got. -She hastened to ring the bell and when the tray came, she proceeded -to arrange the cups, spoons, c., with assiduous celerity. I and -Adele went to the table but the master did not leave his couch. -"Will you hand Mr. Rochester's cup?" said Mrs. Fairfax to me -"Adele might perhaps spill it." -I did as requested. As he took the cup from my hand, Adele, thinking -the moment propitious for making a request in my favour, cried out -"N'estce pas, monsieur, qu'il y a un cadeau pour Mademoiselle Eyre -dans votre petit coffre?" -"Who talks of cadeaux?" said he gruffly. "Did you expect a -present, Miss Eyre? Are you fond of presents?" and he searched -my face with eyes that I saw were dark, irate, and piercing. -"I hardly know, sir I have little experience of them they are -generally thought pleasant things." -"Generally thought? But what do YOU think?" -"I should be obliged to take time, sir, before I could give you -an answer worthy of your acceptance a present has many faces to -it, has it not? and one should consider all, before pronouncing -an opinion as to its nature." -"Miss Eyre, you are not so unsophisticated as Adele she demands -a 'cadeau,' clamorously, the moment she sees me you beat about -the bush." -"Because I have less confidence in my deserts than Adele has she -can prefer the claim of old acquaintance, and the right too of -custom for she says you have always been in the habit of giving -her playthings but if I had to make out a case I should be puzzled, -since I am a stranger, and have done nothing to entitle me to an -acknowledgment." -"Oh, don't fall back on overmodesty I have examined Adele, and -find you have taken great pains with her she is not bright, she -has no talents yet in a short time she has made much improvement." -"Sir, you have now given me my 'cadeau' I am obliged to you it -is the meed teachers most covet praise of their pupils' progress." -"Humph" said Mr. Rochester, and he took his tea in silence. -"Come to the fire," said the master, when the tray was taken away, -and Mrs. Fairfax had settled into a corner with her knitting -while Adele was leading me by the hand round the room, showing me -the beautiful books and ornaments on the consoles and chiffonnieres. -We obeyed, as in duty bound Adele wanted to take a seat on my -knee, but she was ordered to amuse herself with Pilot. -"You have been resident in my house three months?" -"Yes, sir." -"And you came from ?" -"From Lowood school, in shire." -"Ah a charitable concern. How long were you there?" -"Eight years." -"Eight years you must be tenacious of life. I thought half the -time in such a place would have done up any constitution No wonder -you have rather the look of another world. I marvelled where you -had got that sort of face. When you came on me in Hay Lane last -night, I thought unaccountably of fairy tales, and had half a mind -to demand whether you had bewitched my horse I am not sure yet. -Who are your parents?" -"I have none." -"Nor ever had, I suppose do you remember them?" -"No." -"I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you -sat on that stile?" -"For whom, sir?" -"For the men in green it was a proper moonlight evening for them. -Did I break through one of your rings, that you spread that damned -ice on the causeway?" -I shook my head. "The men in green all forsook England a hundred -years ago," said I, speaking as seriously as he had done. "And not -even in Hay Lane, or the fields about it, could you find a trace -of them. I don't think either summer or harvest, or winter moon, -will ever shine on their revels more." -Mrs. Fairfax had dropped her knitting, and, with raised eyebrows, -seemed wondering what sort of talk this was. -"Well," resumed Mr. Rochester, "if you disown parents, you must -have some sort of kinsfolk uncles and aunts?" -"No none that I ever saw." -"And your home?" -"I have none." -"Where do your brothers and sisters live?" -"I have no brothers or sisters." -"Who recommended you to come here?" -"I advertised, and Mrs. Fairfax answered my advertisement." -"Yes," said the good lady, who now knew what ground we were upon, -"and I am daily thankful for the choice Providence led me to make. -Miss Eyre has been an invaluable companion to me, and a kind and -careful teacher to Adele." -"Don't trouble yourself to give her a character," returned Mr. -Rochester "eulogiums will not bias me I shall judge for myself. -She began by felling my horse." -"Sir?" said Mrs. Fairfax. -"I have to thank her for this sprain." -The widow looked bewildered. -"Miss Eyre, have you ever lived in a town?" -"No, sir." -"Have you seen much society?" -"None but the pupils and teachers of Lowood, and now the inmates -of Thornfield." -"Have you read much?" -"Only such books as came in my way and they have not been numerous -or very learned." -"You have lived the life of a nun no doubt you are well drilled -in religious forms Brocklehurst, who I understand directs -Lowood, is a parson, is he not?" -"Yes, sir." -"And you girls probably worshipped him, as a convent full of -religieuses would worship their director." -"Oh, no." -"You are very cool No What a novice not worship her priest -That sounds blasphemous." -"I disliked Mr. Brocklehurst and I was not alone in the feeling. -He is a harsh man at once pompous and meddling he cut off our -hair and for economy's sake bought us bad needles and thread, with -which we could hardly sew." -"That was very false economy," remarked Mrs. Fairfax, who now again -caught the drift of the dialogue. -"And was that the head and front of his offending?" demanded Mr. -Rochester. -"He starved us when he had the sole superintendence of the provision -department, before the committee was appointed and he bored us with -long lectures once a week, and with evening readings from books of -his own inditing, about sudden deaths and judgments, which made us -afraid to go to bed." -"What age were you when you went to Lowood?" -"About ten." -"And you stayed there eight years you are now, then, eighteen?" -I assented. -"Arithmetic, you see, is useful without its aid, I should hardly -have been able to guess your age. It is a point difficult to fix -where the features and countenance are so much at variance as in -your case. And now what did you learn at Lowood? Can you play?" -"A little." -"Of course that is the established answer. Go into the library -I mean, if you please. Excuse my tone of command I am used -to say, 'Do this,' and it is done I cannot alter my customary -habits for one new inmate. Go, then, into the library take a -candle with you leave the door open sit down to the piano, and -play a tune." -I departed, obeying his directions. -"Enough" he called out in a few minutes. "You play A LITTLE, I -see like any other English schoolgirl perhaps rather better than -some, but not well." -I closed the piano and returned. Mr. Rochester continued "Adele -showed me some sketches this morning, which she said were yours. -I don't know whether they were entirely of your doing probably a -master aided you?" -"No, indeed" I interjected. -"Ah that pricks pride. Well, fetch me your portfolio, if you -can vouch for its contents being original but don't pass your word -unless you are certain I can recognise patchwork." -"Then I will say nothing, and you shall judge for yourself, sir." -I brought the portfolio from the library. -"Approach the table," said he and I wheeled it to his couch. Adele -and Mrs. Fairfax drew near to see the pictures. -"No crowding," said Mr. Rochester "take the drawings from my hand -as I finish with them but don't push your faces up to mine." -He deliberately scrutinised each sketch and painting. Three he -laid aside the others, when he had examined them, he swept from -him. -"Take them off to the other table, Mrs. Fairfax," said he, "and -look at them with Adele you" glancing at me "resume your seat, -and answer my questions. I perceive those pictures were done by -one hand was that hand yours?" -"Yes." -"And when did you find time to do them? They have taken much time, -and some thought." -"I did them in the last two vacations I spent at Lowood, when I -had no other occupation." -"Where did you get your copies?" -"Out of my head." -"That head I see now on your shoulders?" -"Yes, sir." -"Has it other furniture of the same kind within?" -"I should think it may have I should hope better." -He spread the pictures before him, and again surveyed them alternately. -While he is so occupied, I will tell you, reader, what they are -and first, I must premise that they are nothing wonderful. The -subjects had, indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with -the spiritual eye, before I attempted to embody them, they were -striking but my hand would not second my fancy, and in each case -it had wrought out but a pale portrait of the thing I had conceived. -These pictures were in watercolours. The first represented clouds -low and livid, rolling over a swollen sea all the distance was -in eclipse so, too, was the foreground or rather, the nearest -billows, for there was no land. One gleam of light lifted into -relief a halfsubmerged mast, on which sat a cormorant, dark and -large, with wings flecked with foam its beak held a gold bracelet -set with gems, that I had touched with as brilliant tints as my -palette could yield, and as glittering distinctness as my pencil -could impart. Sinking below the bird and mast, a drowned corpse -glanced through the green water a fair arm was the only limb -clearly visible, whence the bracelet had been washed or torn. -The second picture contained for foreground only the dim peak -of a hill, with grass and some leaves slanting as if by a breeze. -Beyond and above spread an expanse of sky, dark blue as at twilight -rising into the sky was a woman's shape to the bust, portrayed in -tints as dusk and soft as I could combine. The dim forehead was -crowned with a star the lineaments below were seen as through the -suffusion of vapour the eyes shone dark and wild the hair streamed -shadowy, like a beamless cloud torn by storm or by electric travail. -On the neck lay a pale reflection like moonlight the same faint -lustre touched the train of thin clouds from which rose and bowed -this vision of the Evening Star. -The third showed the pinnacle of an iceberg piercing a polar winter -sky a muster of northern lights reared their dim lances, close -serried, along the horizon. Throwing these into distance, rose, -in the foreground, a head, a colossal head, inclined towards -the iceberg, and resting against it. Two thin hands, joined under -the forehead, and supporting it, drew up before the lower features a -sable veil, a brow quite bloodless, white as bone, and an eye hollow -and fixed, blank of meaning but for the glassiness of despair, alone -were visible. Above the temples, amidst wreathed turban folds of -black drapery, vague in its character and consistency as cloud, -gleamed a ring of white flame, gemmed with sparkles of a more lurid -tinge. This pale crescent was "the likeness of a kingly crown" -what it diademed was "the shape which shape had none." -"Were you happy when you painted these pictures?" asked Mr. -Rochester presently. -"I was absorbed, sir yes, and I was happy. To paint them, in -short, was to enjoy one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known." -"That is not saying much. Your pleasures, by your own account, -have been few but I daresay you did exist in a kind of artist's -dreamland while you blent and arranged these strange tints. Did -you sit at them long each day?" -"I had nothing else to do, because it was the vacation, and I sat -at them from morning till noon, and from noon till night the -length of the midsummer days favoured my inclination to apply." -"And you felt selfsatisfied with the result of your ardent labours?" -"Far from it. I was tormented by the contrast between my idea and -my handiwork in each case I had imagined something which I was -quite powerless to realise." -"Not quite you have secured the shadow of your thought but no -more, probably. You had not enough of the artist's skill and science -to give it full being yet the drawings are, for a schoolgirl, -peculiar. As to the thoughts, they are elfish. These eyes in the -Evening Star you must have seen in a dream. How could you make -them look so clear, and yet not at all brilliant? for the planet -above quells their rays. And what meaning is that in their solemn -depth? And who taught you to paint wind? There is a high gale -in that sky, and on this hilltop. Where did you see Latmos? For -that is Latmos. There put the drawings away" -I had scarce tied the strings of the portfolio, when, looking -at his watch, he said abruptly -"It is nine o'clock what are you about, Miss Eyre, to let Adele -sit up so long? Take her to bed." -Adele went to kiss him before quitting the room he endured the -caress, but scarcely seemed to relish it more than Pilot would have -done, nor so much. -"I wish you all goodnight, now," said he, making a movement of the -hand towards the door, in token that he was tired of our company, -and wished to dismiss us. Mrs. Fairfax folded up her knitting I -took my portfolio we curtseyed to him, received a frigid bow in -return, and so withdrew. -"You said Mr. Rochester was not strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," -I observed, when I rejoined her in her room, after putting Adele -to bed. -"Well, is he?" -"I think so he is very changeful and abrupt." -"True no doubt he may appear so to a stranger, but I am so -accustomed to his manner, I never think of it and then, if he has -peculiarities of temper, allowance should be made." -"Why?" -"Partly because it is his nature and we can none of us help our -nature and partly because he has painful thoughts, no doubt, to -harass him, and make his spirits unequal." -"What about?" -"Family troubles, for one thing." -"But he has no family." -"Not now, but he has had or, at least, relatives. He lost his -elder brother a few years since." -"His ELDER brother?" -"Yes. The present Mr. Rochester has not been very long in possession -of the property only about nine years." -"Nine years is a tolerable time. Was he so very fond of his brother -as to be still inconsolable for his loss?" -"Why, no perhaps not. I believe there were some misunderstandings -between them. Mr. Rowland Rochester was not quite just to Mr. -Edward and perhaps he prejudiced his father against him. The old -gentleman was fond of money, and anxious to keep the family estate -together. He did not like to diminish the property by division, -and yet he was anxious that Mr. Edward should have wealth, too, -to keep up the consequence of the name and, soon after he was of -age, some steps were taken that were not quite fair, and made a -great deal of mischief. Old Mr. Rochester and Mr. Rowland combined -to bring Mr. Edward into what he considered a painful position, for -the sake of making his fortune what the precise nature of that -position was I never clearly knew, but his spirit could not brook -what he had to suffer in it. He is not very forgiving he broke -with his family, and now for many years he has led an unsettled -kind of life. I don't think he has ever been resident at Thornfield -for a fortnight together, since the death of his brother without -a will left him master of the estate and, indeed, no wonder he -shuns the old place." -"Why should he shun it?" -"Perhaps he thinks it gloomy." -The answer was evasive. I should have liked something clearer but -Mrs. Fairfax either could not, or would not, give me more explicit -information of the origin and nature of Mr. Rochester's trials. -She averred they were a mystery to herself, and that what she knew -was chiefly from conjecture. It was evident, indeed, that she -wished me to drop the subject, which I did accordingly. -CHAPTER XIV -For several subsequent days I saw little of Mr. Rochester. In the -mornings he seemed much engaged with business, and, in the afternoon, -gentlemen from Millcote or the neighbourhood called, and sometimes -stayed to dine with him. When his sprain was well enough to admit -of horse exercise, he rode out a good deal probably to return -these visits, as he generally did not come back till late at night. -During this interval, even Adele was seldom sent for to his presence, -and all my acquaintance with him was confined to an occasional -rencontre in the hall, on the stairs, or in the gallery, when he -would sometimes pass me haughtily and coldly, just acknowledging -my presence by a distant nod or a cool glance, and sometimes bow -and smile with gentlemanlike affability. His changes of mood did -not offend me, because I saw that I had nothing to do with their -alternation the ebb and flow depended on causes quite disconnected -with me. -One day he had had company to dinner, and had sent for my portfolio -in order, doubtless, to exhibit its contents the gentlemen went -away early, to attend a public meeting at Millcote, as Mrs. Fairfax -informed me but the night being wet and inclement, Mr. Rochester -did not accompany them. Soon after they were gone he rang the bell -a message came that I and Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed -Adele's hair and made her neat, and having ascertained that I was -myself in my usual Quaker trim, where there was nothing to retouch -all being too close and plain, braided locks included, to admit -of disarrangement we descended, Adele wondering whether the -petit coffre was at length come for, owing to some mistake, its -arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified there it -stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the diningroom. -She appeared to know it by instinct. -"Ma boite ma boite" exclaimed she, running towards it. -"Yes, there is your 'boite' at last take it into a corner, you -genuine daughter of Paris, and amuse yourself with disembowelling -it," said the deep and rather sarcastic voice of Mr. Rochester, -proceeding from the depths of an immense easychair at the fireside. -"And mind," he continued, "don't bother me with any details of the -anatomical process, or any notice of the condition of the entrails -let your operation be conducted in silence tienstoi tranquille, -enfant comprendstu?" -Adele seemed scarcely to need the warning she had already retired -to a sofa with her treasure, and was busy untying the cord which -secured the lid. Having removed this impediment, and lifted -certain silvery envelopes of tissue paper, she merely exclaimed -"Oh ciel Que c'est beau" and then remained absorbed in ecstatic -contemplation. -"Is Miss Eyre there?" now demanded the master, half rising from -his seat to look round to the door, near which I still stood. -"Ah well, come forward be seated here." He drew a chair near -his own. "I am not fond of the prattle of children," he continued -"for, old bachelor as I am, I have no pleasant associations -connected with their lisp. It would be intolerable to me to pass -a whole evening teteetete with a brat. Don't draw that chair -farther off, Miss Eyre sit down exactly where I placed it if -you please, that is. Confound these civilities I continually -forget them. Nor do I particularly affect simpleminded old ladies. -Bythebye, I must have mine in mind it won't do to neglect her -she is a Fairfax, or wed to one and blood is said to be thicker -than water." -He rang, and despatched an invitation to Mrs. Fairfax, who soon -arrived, knittingbasket in hand. -"Good evening, madam I sent to you for a charitable purpose. I -have forbidden Adele to talk to me about her presents, and she is -bursting with repletion have the goodness to serve her as auditress -and interlocutrice it will be one of the most benevolent acts you -ever performed." -Adele, indeed, no sooner saw Mrs. Fairfax, than she summoned her -to her sofa, and there quickly filled her lap with the porcelain, -the ivory, the waxen contents of her "boite" pouring out, meantime, -explanations and raptures in such broken English as she was mistress -of. -"Now I have performed the part of a good host," pursued Mr. Rochester, -"put my guests into the way of amusing each other, I ought to be at -liberty to attend to my own pleasure. Miss Eyre, draw your chair -still a little farther forward you are yet too far back I cannot -see you without disturbing my position in this comfortable chair, -which I have no mind to do." -I did as I was bid, though I would much rather have remained -somewhat in the shade but Mr. Rochester had such a direct way of -giving orders, it seemed a matter of course to obey him promptly. -We were, as I have said, in the diningroom the lustre, which -had been lit for dinner, filled the room with a festal breadth of -light the large fire was all red and clear the purple curtains -hung rich and ample before the lofty window and loftier arch -everything was still, save the subdued chat of Adele she dared -not speak loud, and, filling up each pause, the beating of winter -rain against the panes. -Mr. Rochester, as he sat in his damaskcovered chair, looked -different to what I had seen him look before not quite so stern -much less gloomy. There was a smile on his lips, and his eyes -sparkled, whether with wine or not, I am not sure but I think it -very probable. He was, in short, in his afterdinner mood more -expanded and genial, and also more selfindulgent than the frigid -and rigid temper of the morning still he looked preciously grim, -cushioning his massive head against the swelling back of his chair, -and receiving the light of the fire on his granitehewn features, -and in his great, dark eyes for he had great, dark eyes, and very -fine eyes, too not without a certain change in their depths -sometimes, which, if it was not softness, reminded you, at least, -of that feeling. -He had been looking two minutes at the fire, and I had been looking -the same length of time at him, when, turning suddenly, he caught -my gaze fastened on his physiognomy. -"You examine me, Miss Eyre," said he "do you think me handsome?" -I should, if I had deliberated, have replied to this question by -something conventionally vague and polite but the answer somehow -slipped from my tongue before I was aware "No, sir." -"Ah By my word there is something singular about you," said -he "you have the air of a little nonnette quaint, quiet, grave, -and simple, as you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes -generally bent on the carpet except, bythebye, when they are -directed piercingly to my face as just now, for instance and -when one asks you a question, or makes a remark to which you are -obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, which, if not -blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?" -"Sir, I was too plain I beg your pardon. I ought to have replied -that it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question -about appearances that tastes mostly differ and that beauty is -of little consequence, or something of that sort." -"You ought to have replied no such thing. Beauty of little consequence, -indeed And so, under pretence of softening the previous outrage, -of stroking and soothing me into placidity, you stick a sly penknife -under my ear Go on what fault do you find with me, pray? I -suppose I have all my limbs and all my features like any other -man?" -"Mr. Rochester, allow me to disown my first answer I intended no -pointed repartee it was only a blunder." -"Just so I think so and you shall be answerable for it. Criticise -me does my forehead not please you?" -He lifted up the sable waves of hair which lay horizontally over -his brow, and showed a solid enough mass of intellectual organs, -but an abrupt deficiency where the suave sign of benevolence should -have risen. -"Now, ma'am, am I a fool?" -"Far from it, sir. You would, perhaps, think me rude if I inquired -in return whether you are a philanthropist?" -"There again Another stick of the penknife, when she pretended -to pat my head and that is because I said I did not like the -society of children and old women low be it spoken. No, young -lady, I am not a general philanthropist but I bear a conscience" -and he pointed to the prominences which are said to indicate -that faculty, and which, fortunately for him, were sufficiently -conspicuous giving, indeed, a marked breadth to the upper part of -his head "and, besides, I once had a kind of rude tenderness of -heart. When I was as old as you, I was a feeling fellow enough, -partial to the unfledged, unfostered, and unlucky but Fortune has -knocked me about since she has even kneaded me with her knuckles, -and now I flatter myself I am hard and tough as an Indiarubber -ball pervious, though, through a chink or two still, and with one -sentient point in the middle of the lump. Yes does that leave -hope for me?" -"Hope of what, sir?" -"Of my final retransformation from Indiarubber back to flesh?" -"Decidedly he has had too much wine," I thought and I did not -know what answer to make to his queer question how could I tell -whether he was capable of being retransformed? -"You looked very much puzzled, Miss Eyre and though you are not -pretty any more than I am handsome, yet a puzzled air becomes you -besides, it is convenient, for it keeps those searching eyes of -yours away from my physiognomy, and busies them with the worsted -flowers of the rug so puzzle on. Young lady, I am disposed to be -gregarious and communicative tonight." -With this announcement he rose from his chair, and stood, leaning -his arm on the marble mantelpiece in that attitude his shape was -seen plainly as well as his face his unusual breadth of chest, -disproportionate almost to his length of limb. I am sure most -people would have thought him an ugly man yet there was so much -unconscious pride in his port so much ease in his demeanour such -a look of complete indifference to his own external appearance so -haughty a reliance on the power of other qualities, intrinsic or -adventitious, to atone for the lack of mere personal attractiveness, -that, in looking at him, one inevitably shared the indifference, -and, even in a blind, imperfect sense, put faith in the confidence. -"I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative tonight," -he repeated, "and that is why I sent for you the fire and the -chandelier were not sufficient company for me nor would Pilot have -been, for none of these can talk. Adele is a degree better, but -still far below the mark Mrs. Fairfax ditto you, I am persuaded, -can suit me if you will you puzzled me the first evening I -invited you down here. I have almost forgotten you since other -ideas have driven yours from my head but tonight I am resolved -to be at ease to dismiss what importunes, and recall what pleases. -It would please me now to draw you out to learn more of you -therefore speak." -Instead of speaking, I smiled and not a very complacent or submissive -smile either. -"Speak," he urged. -"What about, sir?" -"Whatever you like. I leave both the choice of subject and the -manner of treating it entirely to yourself." -Accordingly I sat and said nothing "If he expects me to talk -for the mere sake of talking and showing off, he will find he has -addressed himself to the wrong person," I thought. -"You are dumb, Miss Eyre." -I was dumb still. He bent his head a little towards me, and with -a single hasty glance seemed to dive into my eyes. -"Stubborn?" he said, "and annoyed. Ah it is consistent. I put -my request in an absurd, almost insolent form. Miss Eyre, I beg -your pardon. The fact is, once for all, I don't wish to treat you -like an inferior that is" correcting himself, "I claim only -such superiority as must result from twenty years' difference in -age and a century's advance in experience. This is legitimate, -et j'y tiens, as Adele would say and it is by virtue of this -superiority, and this alone, that I desire you to have the goodness -to talk to me a little now, and divert my thoughts, which are galled -with dwelling on one point cankering as a rusty nail." -He had deigned an explanation, almost an apology, and I did not -feel insensible to his condescension, and would not seem so. -"I am willing to amuse you, if I can, sir quite willing but I -cannot introduce a topic, because how do I know what will interest -you? Ask me questions, and I will do my best to answer them." -"Then, in the first place, do you agree with me that I have a right -to be a little masterful, abrupt, perhaps exacting, sometimes, -on the grounds I stated, namely, that I am old enough to be your -father, and that I have battled through a varied experience with -many men of many nations, and roamed over half the globe, while -you have lived quietly with one set of people in one house?" -"Do as you please, sir." -"That is no answer or rather it is a very irritating, because a -very evasive one. Reply clearly." -"I don't think, sir, you have a right to command me, merely because -you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world -than I have your claim to superiority depends on the use you have -made of your time and experience." -"Humph Promptly spoken. But I won't allow that, seeing that it -would never suit my case, as I have made an indifferent, not to -say a bad, use of both advantages. Leaving superiority out of the -question, then, you must still agree to receive my orders now and -then, without being piqued or hurt by the tone of command. Will -you?" -I smiled I thought to myself Mr. Rochester IS peculiar he -seems to forget that he pays me pounds per annum for receiving -his orders. -"The smile is very well," said he, catching instantly the passing -expression "but speak too." -"I was thinking, sir, that very few masters would trouble themselves -to inquire whether or not their paid subordinates were piqued and -hurt by their orders." -"Paid subordinates What you are my paid subordinate, are you? -Oh yes, I had forgotten the salary Well then, on that mercenary -ground, will you agree to let me hector a little?" -"No, sir, not on that ground but, on the ground that you did forget -it, and that you care whether or not a dependent is comfortable in -his dependency, I agree heartily." -"And will you consent to dispense with a great many conventional -forms and phrases, without thinking that the omission arises from -insolence?" -"I am sure, sir, I should never mistake informality for insolence -one I rather like, the other nothing freeborn would submit to, -even for a salary." -"Humbug Most things freeborn will submit to anything for a salary -therefore, keep to yourself, and don't venture on generalities of -which you are intensely ignorant. However, I mentally shake hands -with you for your answer, despite its inaccuracy and as much for -the manner in which it was said, as for the substance of the speech -the manner was frank and sincere one does not often see such a -manner no, on the contrary, affectation, or coldness, or stupid, -coarseminded misapprehension of one's meaning are the usual rewards -of candour. Not three in three thousand raw schoolgirlgovernesses -would have answered me as you have just done. But I don't mean to -flatter you if you are cast in a different mould to the majority, -it is no merit of yours Nature did it. And then, after all, -I go too fast in my conclusions for what I yet know, you may -be no better than the rest you may have intolerable defects to -counterbalance your few good points." -"And so may you," I thought. My eye met his as the idea crossed -my mind he seemed to read the glance, answering as if -its import had been spoken as well as imagined -"Yes, yes, you are right," said he "I have plenty of faults of -my own I know it, and I don't wish to palliate them, I assure -you. God wot I need not be too severe about others I have a past -existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within -my own breast, which might well call my sneers and censures from -my neighbours to myself. I started, or rather for like other -defaulters, I like to lay half the blame on ill fortune and adverse -circumstances was thrust on to a wrong tack at the age of oneand -twenty, and have never recovered the right course since but I -might have been very different I might have been as good as you -wiser almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, -your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a -memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure -an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment is it not?" -"How was your memory when you were eighteen, sir?" -"All right then limpid, salubrious no gush of bilge water had -turned it to fetid puddle. I was your equal at eighteen quite -your equal. Nature meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, Miss -Eyre one of the better kind, and you see I am not so. You would -say you don't see it at least I flatter myself I read as much in -your eye beware, bythebye, what you express with that organ -I am quick at interpreting its language. Then take my word for -it, I am not a villain you are not to suppose that not -to attribute to me any such bad eminence but, owing, I verily -believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a -trite commonplace sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations -with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder -that I avow this to you? Know, that in the course of your future -life you will often find yourself elected the involuntary confidant -of your acquaintances' secrets people will instinctively find -out, as I have done, that it is not your forte to tell of yourself, -but to listen while others talk of themselves they will feel, too, -that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their indiscretion, -but with a kind of innate sympathy not the less comforting and -encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations." -"How do you know? how can you guess all this, sir?" -"I know it well therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were -writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been -superior to circumstances so I should so I should but you see -I was not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain -cool I turned desperate then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious -simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot -flatter myself that I am better than he I am forced to confess -that he and I are on a level. I wish I had stood firm God -knows I do Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre -remorse is the poison of life." -"Repentance is said to be its cure, sir." -"It is not its cure. Reformation may be its cure and I could -reform I have strength yet for that if but where is the -use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, -since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get -pleasure out of life and I WILL get it, cost what it may." -"Then you will degenerate still more, sir." -"Possibly yet why should I, if I can get sweet, fresh pleasure? -And I may get it as sweet and fresh as the wild honey the bee -gathers on the moor." -"It will sting it will taste bitter, sir." -"How do you know? you never tried it. How very serious how -very solemn you look and you are as ignorant of the matter as -this cameo head" taking one from the mantelpiece. "You have no -right to preach to me, you neophyte, that have not passed the porch -of life, and are absolutely unacquainted with its mysteries." -"I only remind you of your own words, sir you said error brought -remorse, and you pronounced remorse the poison of existence." -"And who talks of error now? I scarcely think the notion -that flittered across my brain was an error. I believe it was an -inspiration rather than a temptation it was very genial, very -soothing I know that. Here it comes again It is no devil, -I assure you or if it be, it has put on the robes of an angel of -light. I think I must admit so fair a guest when it asks entrance -to my heart." -"Distrust it, sir it is not a true angel." -"Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to -distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger -from the eternal throne between a guide and a seducer?" -"I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you -said the suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will -work you more misery if you listen to it." -"Not at all it bears the most gracious message in the world for -the rest, you are not my consciencekeeper, so don't make yourself -uneasy. Here, come in, bonny wanderer" -He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but -his own then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his -chest, he seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being. -"Now," he continued, again addressing me, "I have received the -pilgrim a disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it -has done me good my heart was a sort of charnel it will now be -a shrine." -"To speak truth, sir, I don't understand you at all I cannot keep -up the conversation, because it has got out of my depth. Only one -thing, I know you said you were not as good as you should like -to be, and that you regretted your own imperfection one thing -I can comprehend you intimated that to have a sullied memory -was a perpetual bane. It seems to me, that if you tried hard, you -would in time find it possible to become what you yourself would -approve and that if from this day you began with resolution to -correct your thoughts and actions, you would in a few years have -laid up a new and stainless store of recollections, to which you -might revert with pleasure." -"Justly thought rightly said, Miss Eyre and, at this moment, I -am paving hell with energy." -"Sir?" -"I am laying down good intentions, which I believe durable as -flint. Certainly, my associates and pursuits shall be other than -they have been." -"And better?" -"And better so much better as pure ore is than foul dross. You -seem to doubt me I don't doubt myself I know what my aim is, -what my motives are and at this moment I pass a law, unalterable -as that of the Medes and Persians, that both are right." -"They cannot be, sir, if they require a new statute to legalise -them." -"They are, Miss Eyre, though they absolutely require a new statute -unheardof combinations of circumstances demand unheardof rules." -"That sounds a dangerous maxim, sir because one can see at once -that it is liable to abuse." -"Sententious sage so it is but I swear by my household gods -not to abuse it." -"You are human and fallible." -"I am so are you what then?" -"The human and fallible should not arrogate a power with which the -divine and perfect alone can be safely intrusted." -"What power?" -"That of saying of any strange, unsanctioned line of action, -'Let it be right.'" -"'Let it be right' the very words you have pronounced them." -"MAY it be right then," I said, as I rose, deeming it useless to -continue a discourse which was all darkness to me and, besides, -sensible that the character of my interlocutor was beyond my -penetration at least, beyond its present reach and feeling the -uncertainty, the vague sense of insecurity, which accompanies a -conviction of ignorance. -"Where are you going?" -"To put Adele to bed it is past her bedtime." -"You are afraid of me, because I talk like a Sphynx." -"Your language is enigmatical, sir but though I am bewildered, -I am certainly not afraid." -"You ARE afraid your selflove dreads a blunder." -"In that sense I do feel apprehensive I have no wish to talk -nonsense." -"If you did, it would be in such a grave, quiet manner, I should -mistake it for sense. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre? Don't -trouble yourself to answer I see you laugh rarely but you can -laugh very merrily believe me, you are not naturally austere, -any more than I am naturally vicious. The Lowood constraint still -clings to you somewhat controlling your features, muffling your -voice, and restricting your limbs and you fear in the presence of -a man and a brother or father, or master, or what you will -to smile too gaily, speak too freely, or move too quickly but, -in time, I think you will learn to be natural with me, as I find -it impossible to be conventional with you and then your looks and -movements will have more vivacity and variety than they dare offer -now. I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird -through the closeset bars of a cage a vivid, restless, resolute -captive is there were it but free, it would soar cloudhigh. You -are still bent on going?" -"It has struck nine, sir." -"Never mind, wait a minute Adele is not ready to go to bed -yet. My position, Miss Eyre, with my back to the fire, and my face -to the room, favours observation. While talking to you, I have -also occasionally watched Adele I have my own reasons for thinking -her a curious study, reasons that I may, nay, that I shall, -impart to you some day. She pulled out of her box, about ten -minutes ago, a little pink silk frock rapture lit her face as she -unfolded it coquetry runs in her blood, blends with her brains, -and seasons the marrow of her bones. 'Il faut que je l'essaie' -cried she, 'et e l'instant meme' and she rushed out of the room. -She is now with Sophie, undergoing a robing process in a few minutes -she will reenter and I know what I shall see, a miniature of -Celine Varens, as she used to appear on the boards at the rising of -But never mind that. However, my tenderest feelings are about -to receive a shock such is my presentiment stay now, to see -whether it will be realised." -Ere long, Adele's little foot was heard tripping across the hall. -She entered, transformed as her guardian had predicted. A dress -of rosecoloured satin, very short, and as full in the skirt as -it could be gathered, replaced the brown frock she had previously -worn a wreath of rosebuds circled her forehead her feet were -dressed in silk stockings and small white satin sandals. -"Estce que ma robe va bien?" cried she, bounding forwards "et -mes souliers? et mes bas? Tenez, je crois que je vais danser" -And spreading out her dress, she chasseed across the room till, -having reached Mr. Rochester, she wheeled lightly round before -him on tiptoe, then dropped on one knee at his feet, exclaiming -"Monsieur, je vous remercie mille fois de votre bonte" then -rising, she added, "C'est comme cela que maman faisait, n'estce -pas, monsieur?" -"Precisely" was the answer "and, 'comme cela,' she charmed -my English gold out of my British breeches' pocket. I have been -green, too, Miss Eyre, ay, grass green not a more vernal -tint freshens you now than once freshened me. My Spring is gone, -however, but it has left me that French floweret on my hands, which, -in some moods, I would fain be rid of. Not valuing now the root -whence it sprang having found that it was of a sort which nothing -but gold dust could manure, I have but half a liking to the blossom, -especially when it looks so artificial as just now. I keep it and -rear it rather on the Roman Catholic principle of expiating numerous -sins, great or small, by one good work. I'll explain all this some -day. Goodnight." -CHAPTER XV -Mr. Rochester did, on a future occasion, explain it. It was one -afternoon, when he chanced to meet me and Adele in the grounds -and while she played with Pilot and her shuttlecock, he asked me -to walk up and down a long beech avenue within sight of her. -He then said that she was the daughter of a French operadancer, -Celine Varens, towards whom he had once cherished what he called -a "grande passion." This passion Celine had professed to return -with even superior ardour. He thought himself her idol, ugly as -he was he believed, as he said, that she preferred his "taille -d'athlete" to the elegance of the Apollo Belvidere. -"And, Miss Eyre, so much was I flattered by this preference of -the Gallic sylph for her British gnome, that I installed her in an -hotel gave her a complete establishment of servants, a carriage, -cashmeres, diamonds, dentelles, c. In short, I began the process -of ruining myself in the received style, like any other spoony. I -had not, it seems, the originality to chalk out a new road to shame -and destruction, but trode the old track with stupid exactness not -to deviate an inch from the beaten centre. I had as I deserved -to have the fate of all other spoonies. Happening to call one -evening when Celine did not expect me, I found her out but it was -a warm night, and I was tired with strolling through Paris, so I -sat down in her boudoir happy to breathe the air consecrated so -lately by her presence. No, I exaggerate I never thought there -was any consecrating virtue about her it was rather a sort of -pastille perfume she had left a scent of musk and amber, than an -odour of sanctity. I was just beginning to stifle with the fumes -of conservatory flowers and sprinkled essences, when I bethought -myself to open the window and step out on to the balcony. It was -moonlight and gaslight besides, and very still and serene. The -balcony was furnished with a chair or two I sat down, and took -out a cigar, I will take one now, if you will excuse me." -Here ensued a pause, filled up by the producing and lighting -of a cigar having placed it to his lips and breathed a trail -of Havannah incense on the freezing and sunless air, he went on -"I liked bonbons too in those days, Miss Eyre, and I was croquant -overlook the barbarism croquant chocolate comfits, and -smoking alternately, watching meantime the equipages that rolled -along the fashionable streets towards the neighbouring operahouse, -when in an elegant close carriage drawn by a beautiful pair of -English horses, and distinctly seen in the brilliant citynight, -I recognised the 'voiture' I had given Celine. She was returning -of course my heart thumped with impatience against the iron rails -I leant upon. The carriage stopped, as I had expected, at the -hotel door my flame that is the very word for an opera inamorata -alighted though muffed in a cloak an unnecessary encumbrance, -bythebye, on so warm a June evening I knew her instantly by -her little foot, seen peeping from the skirt of her dress, as she -skipped from the carriagestep. Bending over the balcony, I was -about to murmur 'Mon ange' in a tone, of course, which should -be audible to the ear of love alone when a figure jumped from -the carriage after her cloaked also but that was a spurred heel -which had rung on the pavement, and that was a hatted head which -now passed under the arched porte cochere of the hotel. -"You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not I -need not ask you because you never felt love. You have both -sentiments yet to experience your soul sleeps the shock is yet -to be given which shall waken it. You think all existence lapses -in as quiet a flow as that in which your youth has hitherto slid -away. Floating on with closed eyes and muffled ears, you neither -see the rocks bristling not far off in the bed of the flood, nor -hear the breakers boil at their base. But I tell you and you -may mark my words you will come some day to a craggy pass in the -channel, where the whole of life's stream will be broken up into -whirl and tumult, foam and noise either you will be dashed to -atoms on crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some masterwave -into a calmer current as I am now. -"I like this day I like that sky of steel I like the sternness -and stillness of the world under this frost. I like Thornfield, -its antiquity, its retirement, its old crowtrees and thorntrees, -its grey facade, and lines of dark windows reflecting that metal -welkin and yet how long have I abhorred the very thought of it, -shunned it like a great plaguehouse? How I do still abhor " -He ground his teeth and was silent he arrested his step and struck -his boot against the hard ground. Some hated thought seemed to -have him in its grip, and to hold him so tightly that he could not -advance. -We were ascending the avenue when he thus paused the hall was before -us. Lifting his eye to its battlements, he cast over them a glare -such as I never saw before or since. Pain, shame, ire, impatience, -disgust, detestation, seemed momentarily to hold a quivering conflict -in the large pupil dilating under his ebon eyebrow. Wild was the -wrestle which should be paramount but another feeling rose and -triumphed something hard and cynical selfwilled and resolute -it settled his passion and petrified his countenance he went on -"During the moment I was silent, Miss Eyre, I was arranging a point -with my destiny. She stood there, by that beechtrunk a hag -like one of those who appeared to Macbeth on the heath of Forres. -'You like Thornfield?' she said, lifting her finger and then she -wrote in the air a memento, which ran in lurid hieroglyphics all -along the housefront, between the upper and lower row of windows, -'Like it if you can Like it if you dare' -"'I will like it,' said I 'I dare like it' and" he subjoined -moodily "I will keep my word I will break obstacles to happiness, -to goodness yes, goodness. I wish to be a better man than I -have been, than I am as Job's leviathan broke the spear, the dart, -and the habergeon, hindrances which others count as iron and brass, -I will esteem but straw and rotten wood." -Adele here ran before him with her shuttlecock. "Away" he cried -harshly "keep at a distance, child or go in to Sophie" Continuing -then to pursue his walk in silence, I ventured to recall -him to the point whence he had abruptly diverged -"Did you leave the balcony, sir," I asked, "when Mdlle. Varens -entered?" -I almost expected a rebuff for this hardly welltimed question, -but, on the contrary, waking out of his scowling abstraction, he -turned his eyes towards me, and the shade seemed to clear off his -brow. "Oh, I had forgotten Celine Well, to resume. When I saw -my charmer thus come in accompanied by a cavalier, I seemed to -hear a hiss, and the green snake of jealousy, rising on undulating -coils from the moonlit balcony, glided within my waistcoat, and ate -its way in two minutes to my heart's core. Strange" he exclaimed, -suddenly starting again from the point. "Strange that I should -choose you for the confidant of all this, young lady passing -strange that you should listen to me quietly, as if it were the most -usual thing in the world for a man like me to tell stories of his -operamistresses to a quaint, inexperienced girl like you But the -last singularity explains the first, as I intimated once before -you, with your gravity, considerateness, and caution were made to -be the recipient of secrets. Besides, I know what sort of a mind -I have placed in communication with my own I know it is one not -liable to take infection it is a peculiar mind it is a unique -one. Happily I do not mean to harm it but, if I did, it would -not take harm from me. The more you and I converse, the better -for while I cannot blight you, you may refresh me." After -this digression he proceeded -"I remained in the balcony. 'They will come to her boudoir, no -doubt,' thought I 'let me prepare an ambush.' So putting my hand -in through the open window, I drew the curtain over it, leaving only -an opening through which I could take observations then I closed -the casement, all but a chink just wide enough to furnish an outlet -to lovers' whispered vows then I stole back to my chair and as -I resumed it the pair came in. My eye was quickly at the aperture. -Celine's chambermaid entered, lit a lamp, left it on the table, -and withdrew. The couple were thus revealed to me clearly both -removed their cloaks, and there was 'the Varens,' shining in satin -and jewels, my gifts of course, and there was her companion -in an officer's uniform and I knew him for a young roue of a -vicomte a brainless and vicious youth whom I had sometimes met -in society, and had never thought of hating because I despised him -so absolutely. On recognising him, the fang of the snake Jealousy -was instantly broken because at the same moment my love for Celine -sank under an extinguisher. A woman who could betray me for such -a rival was not worth contending for she deserved only scorn -less, however, than I, who had been her dupe. -"They began to talk their conversation eased me completely frivolous, -mercenary, heartless, and senseless, it was rather calculated to -weary than enrage a listener. A card of mine lay on the table -this being perceived, brought my name under discussion. Neither -of them possessed energy or wit to belabour me soundly, but they -insulted me as coarsely as they could in their little way especially -Celine, who even waxed rather brilliant on my personal defects -deformities she termed them. Now it had been her custom to launch -out into fervent admiration of what she called my 'beaute male' -wherein she differed diametrically from you, who told me pointblank, -at the second interview, that you did not think me handsome. The -contrast struck me at the time and " -Adele here came running up again. -"Monsieur, John has just been to say that your agent has called -and wishes to see you." -"Ah in that case I must abridge. Opening the window, I walked -in upon them liberated Celine from my protection gave her notice -to vacate her hotel offered her a purse for immediate exigencies -disregarded screams, hysterics, prayers, protestations, convulsions -made an appointment with the vicomte for a meeting at the Bois de -Boulogne. Next morning I had the pleasure of encountering him left -a bullet in one of his poor etiolated arms, feeble as the wing of -a chicken in the pip, and then thought I had done with the whole -crew. But unluckily the Varens, six months before, had given me -this filette Adele, who, she affirmed, was my daughter and perhaps -she may be, though I see no proofs of such grim paternity written -in her countenance Pilot is more like me than she. Some years -after I had broken with the mother, she abandoned her child, and -ran away to Italy with a musician or singer. I acknowledged no -natural claim on Adele's part to be supported by me, nor do I now -acknowledge any, for I am not her father but hearing that she was -quite destitute, I e'en took the poor thing out of the slime and -mud of Paris, and transplanted it here, to grow up clean in the -wholesome soil of an English country garden. Mrs. Fairfax found -you to train it but now you know that it is the illegitimate -offspring of a French opera girl, you will perhaps think differently -of your post and protegee you will be coming to me some day with -notice that you have found another place that you beg me to look -out for a new governess, c. Eh?" -"No Adele is not answerable for either her mother's faults or -yours I have a regard for her and now that I know she is, in a -sense, parentless forsaken by her mother and disowned by you, sir -I shall cling closer to her than before. How could I possibly -prefer the spoilt pet of a wealthy family, who would hate her governess -as a nuisance, to a lonely little orphan, who leans towards her as -a friend?" -"Oh, that is the light in which you view it Well, I must go in -now and you too it darkens." -But I stayed out a few minutes longer with Adele and Pilot ran -a race with her, and played a game of battledore and shuttlecock. -When we went in, and I had removed her bonnet and coat, I took her -on my knee kept her there an hour, allowing her to prattle as she -liked not rebuking even some little freedoms and trivialities into -which she was apt to stray when much noticed, and which betrayed -in her a superficiality of character, inherited probably from her -mother, hardly congenial to an English mind. Still she had her -merits and I was disposed to appreciate all that was good in her -to the utmost. I sought in her countenance and features a likeness -to Mr. Rochester, but found none no trait, no turn of expression -announced relationship. It was a pity if she could but have been -proved to resemble him, he would have thought more of her. -It was not till after I had withdrawn to my own chamber for the -night, that I steadily reviewed the tale Mr. Rochester had told me. -As he had said, there was probably nothing at all extraordinary -in the substance of the narrative itself a wealthy Englishman's -passion for a French dancer, and her treachery to him, were everyday -matters enough, no doubt, in society but there was something decidedly -strange in the paroxysm of emotion which had suddenly seized him -when he was in the act of expressing the present contentment of -his mood, and his newly revived pleasure in the old hall and its -environs. I meditated wonderingly on this incident but gradually -quitting it, as I found it for the present inexplicable, I turned to -the consideration of my master's manner to myself. The confidence -he had thought fit to repose in me seemed a tribute to my discretion I -regarded and accepted it as such. His deportment had now for some -weeks been more uniform towards me than at the first. I never seemed -in his way he did not take fits of chilling hauteur when he met -me unexpectedly, the encounter seemed welcome he had always a word -and sometimes a smile for me when summoned by formal invitation -to his presence, I was honoured by a cordiality of reception that -made me feel I really possessed the power to amuse him, and that -these evening conferences were sought as much for his pleasure as -for my benefit. -I, indeed, talked comparatively little, but I heard him talk with -relish. It was his nature to be communicative he liked to open -to a mind unacquainted with the world glimpses of its scenes and -ways I do not mean its corrupt scenes and wicked ways, but such -as derived their interest from the great scale on which they were -acted, the strange novelty by which they were characterised -and I had a keen delight in receiving the new ideas he offered, -in imagining the new pictures he portrayed, and following him in -thought through the new regions he disclosed, never startled or -troubled by one noxious allusion. -The ease of his manner freed me from painful restraint the friendly -frankness, as correct as cordial, with which he treated me, drew -me to him. I felt at times as if he were my relation rather than -my master yet he was imperious sometimes still but I did not mind -that I saw it was his way. So happy, so gratified did I become -with this new interest added to life, that I ceased to pine after -kindred my thin crescentdestiny seemed to enlarge the blanks -of existence were filled up my bodily health improved I gathered -flesh and strength. -And was Mr. Rochester now ugly in my eyes? No, reader gratitude, -and many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made his face -the object I best liked to see his presence in a room was more -cheering than the brightest fire. Yet I had not forgotten his faults -indeed, I could not, for he brought them frequently before me. He -was proud, sardonic, harsh to inferiority of every description -in my secret soul I knew that his great kindness to me was balanced -by unjust severity to many others. He was moody, too unaccountably -so I more than once, when sent for to read to him, found him sitting -in his library alone, with his head bent on his folded arms and, -when he looked up, a morose, almost a malignant, scowl blackened -his features. But I believed that his moodiness, his harshness, -and his former faults of morality I say FORMER, for now he seemed -corrected of them had their source in some cruel cross of fate. -I believed he was naturally a man of better tendencies, higher -principles, and purer tastes than such as circumstances had developed, -education instilled, or destiny encouraged. I thought there were -excellent materials in him though for the present they hung together -somewhat spoiled and tangled. I cannot deny that I grieved for his -grief, whatever that was, and would have given much to assuage it. -Though I had now extinguished my candle and was laid down in bed, -I could not sleep for thinking of his look when he paused in the -avenue, and told how his destiny had risen up before him, and dared -him to be happy at Thornfield. -"Why not?" I asked myself. "What alienates him from the house? -Will he leave it again soon? Mrs. Fairfax said he seldom stayed -here longer than a fortnight at a time and he has now been resident -eight weeks. If he does go, the change will be doleful. Suppose -he should be absent spring, summer, and autumn how joyless sunshine -and fine days will seem" -I hardly know whether I had slept or not after this musing at any -rate, I started wide awake on hearing a vague murmur, peculiar and -lugubrious, which sounded, I thought, just above me. I wished I -had kept my candle burning the night was drearily dark my spirits -were depressed. I rose and sat up in bed, listening. The sound -was hushed. -I tried again to sleep but my heart beat anxiously my inward -tranquillity was broken. The clock, far down in the hall, struck two. -Just then it seemed my chamberdoor was touched as if fingers had -swept the panels in groping a way along the dark gallery outside. -I said, "Who is there?" Nothing answered. I was chilled with -fear. -All at once I remembered that it might be Pilot, who, when the -kitchendoor chanced to be left open, not unfrequently found his -way up to the threshold of Mr. Rochester's chamber I had seen him -lying there myself in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat -I lay down. Silence composes the nerves and as an unbroken hush -now reigned again through the whole house, I began to feel the return -of slumber. But it was not fated that I should sleep that night. -A dream had scarcely approached my ear, when it fled affrighted, -scared by a marrowfreezing incident enough. -This was a demoniac laugh low, suppressed, and deep uttered, -as it seemed, at the very keyhole of my chamber door. The head of -my bed was near the door, and I thought at first the goblinlaugher -stood at my bedside or rather, crouched by my pillow but I -rose, looked round, and could see nothing while, as I still gazed, -the unnatural sound was reiterated and I knew it came from behind -the panels. My first impulse was to rise and fasten the bolt my -next, again to cry out, "Who is there?" -Something gurgled and moaned. Ere long, steps retreated up the -gallery towards the thirdstorey staircase a door had lately been -made to shut in that staircase I heard it open and close, and all -was still. -"Was that Grace Poole? and is she possessed with a devil?" thought -I. Impossible now to remain longer by myself I must go to Mrs. -Fairfax. I hurried on my frock and a shawl I withdrew the bolt -and opened the door with a trembling hand. There was a candle -burning just outside, and on the matting in the gallery. I was -surprised at this circumstance but still more was I amazed to -perceive the air quite dim, as if filled with smoke and, while -looking to the right hand and left, to find whence these blue -wreaths issued, I became further aware of a strong smell of burning. -Something creaked it was a door ajar and that door was Mr. -Rochester's, and the smoke rushed in a cloud from thence. I thought -no more of Mrs. Fairfax I thought no more of Grace Poole, or the -laugh in an instant, I was within the chamber. Tongues of flame -darted round the bed the curtains were on fire. In the midst of -blaze and vapour, Mr. Rochester lay stretched motionless, in deep -sleep. -"Wake wake" I cried. I shook him, but he only murmured and -turned the smoke had stupefied him. Not a moment could be lost -the very sheets were kindling, I rushed to his basin and ewer -fortunately, one was wide and the other deep, and both were filled -with water. I heaved them up, deluged the bed and its occupant, -flew back to my own room, brought my own waterjug, baptized the -couch afresh, and, by God's aid, succeeded in extinguishing the -flames which were devouring it. -The hiss of the quenched element, the breakage of a pitcher which -I flung from my hand when I had emptied it, and, above all, the -splash of the showerbath I had liberally bestowed, roused Mr. -Rochester at last. Though it was now dark, I knew he was awake -because I heard him fulminating strange anathemas at finding himself -lying in a pool of water. -"Is there a flood?" he cried. -"No, sir," I answered "but there has been a fire get up, do -you are quenched now I will fetch you a candle." -"In the name of all the elves in Christendom, is that Jane Eyre?" -he demanded. "What have you done with me, witch, sorceress? Who -is in the room besides you? Have you plotted to drown me?" -"I will fetch you a candle, sir and, in Heaven's name, get up. -Somebody has plotted something you cannot too soon find out who -and what it is." -"There I am up now but at your peril you fetch a candle yet -wait two minutes till I get into some dry garments, if any dry -there be yes, here is my dressinggown. Now run" -I did run I brought the candle which still remained in the -gallery. He took it from my hand, held it up, and surveyed the -bed, all blackened and scorched, the sheets drenched, the carpet -round swimming in water. -"What is it? and who did it?" he asked. I briefly related to him -what had transpired the strange laugh I had heard in the gallery -the step ascending to the third storey the smoke, the smell of -fire which had conducted me to his room in what state I had found -matters there, and how I had deluged him with all the water I could -lay hands on. -He listened very gravely his face, as I went on, expressed more -concern than astonishment he did not immediately speak when I had -concluded. -"Shall I call Mrs. Fairfax?" I asked. -"Mrs. Fairfax? No what the deuce would you call her for? What -can she do? Let her sleep unmolested." -"Then I will fetch Leah, and wake John and his wife." -"Not at all just be still. You have a shawl on. If you are not -warm enough, you may take my cloak yonder wrap it about you, and -sit down in the armchair there, I will put it on. Now place -your feet on the stool, to keep them out of the wet. I am going -to leave you a few minutes. I shall take the candle. Remain where -you are till I return be as still as a mouse. I must pay a visit -to the second storey. Don't move, remember, or call any one." -He went I watched the light withdraw. He passed up the gallery -very softly, unclosed the staircase door with as little noise as -possible, shut it after him, and the last ray vanished. I was left -in total darkness. I listened for some noise, but heard nothing. -A very long time elapsed. I grew weary it was cold, in spite of -the cloak and then I did not see the use of staying, as I was not -to rouse the house. I was on the point of risking Mr. Rochester's -displeasure by disobeying his orders, when the light once more -gleamed dimly on the gallery wall, and I heard his unshod feet -tread the matting. "I hope it is he," thought I, "and not something -worse." -He reentered, pale and very gloomy. "I have found it all out," -said he, setting his candle down on the washstand "it is as I -thought." -"How, sir?" -He made no reply, but stood with his arms folded, looking on the -ground. At the end of a few minutes he inquired in rather -a peculiar tone -"I forget whether you said you saw anything when you opened your -chamber door." -"No, sir, only the candlestick on the ground." -"But you heard an odd laugh? You have heard that laugh before, I -should think, or something like it?" -"Yes, sir there is a woman who sews here, called Grace Poole, -she laughs in that way. She is a singular person." -"Just so. Grace Poole you have guessed it. She is, as you say, -singular very. Well, I shall reflect on the subject. Meantime, -I am glad that you are the only person, besides myself, acquainted -with the precise details of tonight's incident. You are no talking -fool say nothing about it. I will account for this state of -affairs" pointing to the bed "and now return to your own room. -I shall do very well on the sofa in the library for the rest of the -night. It is near four in two hours the servants will be up." -"Goodnight, then, sir," said I, departing. -He seemed surprised very inconsistently so, as he had just told -me to go. -"What" he exclaimed, "are you quitting me already, and in that -way?" -"You said I might go, sir." -"But not without taking leave not without a word or two of -acknowledgment and goodwill not, in short, in that brief, dry -fashion. Why, you have saved my life snatched me from a horrible -and excruciating death and you walk past me as if we were mutual -strangers At least shake hands." -He held out his hand I gave him mine he took it first in one, -them in both his own. -"You have saved my life I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a -debt. I cannot say more. Nothing else that has being would have -been tolerable to me in the character of creditor for such an -obligation but you it is different I feel your benefits no -burden, Jane." -He paused gazed at me words almost visible trembled on his lips, -but his voice was checked. -"Goodnight again, sir. There is no debt, benefit, burden, -obligation, in the case." -"I knew," he continued, "you would do me good in some way, at some -time I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you their -expression and smile did not" again he stopped "did not" -he proceeded hastily "strike delight to my very inmost heart so -for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies I have heard of -good genii there are grains of truth in the wildest fable. My -cherished preserver, goodnight" -Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look. -"I am glad I happened to be awake," I said and then I was going. -"What you WILL go?" -"I am cold, sir." -"Cold? Yes, and standing in a pool Go, then, Jane go" But -he still retained my hand, and I could not free it. I bethought -myself of an expedient. -"I think I hear Mrs. Fairfax move, sir," said I. -"Well, leave me" he relaxed his fingers, and I was gone. -I regained my couch, but never thought of sleep. Till morning -dawned I was tossed on a buoyant but unquiet sea, where billows -of trouble rolled under surges of joy. I thought sometimes I saw -beyond its wild waters a shore, sweet as the hills of Beulah and -now and then a freshening gale, wakened by hope, bore my spirit -triumphantly towards the bourne but I could not reach it, even -in fancy a counteracting breeze blew off land, and continually -drove me back. Sense would resist delirium judgment would warn -passion. Too feverish to rest, I rose as soon as day dawned. -CHAPTER XVI -I both wished and feared to see Mr. Rochester on the day which -followed this sleepless night I wanted to hear his voice again, -yet feared to meet his eye. During the early part of the morning, -I momentarily expected his coming he was not in the frequent habit -of entering the schoolroom, but he did step in for a few minutes -sometimes, and I had the impression that he was sure to visit it -that day. -But the morning passed just as usual nothing happened to interrupt -the quiet course of Adele's studies only soon after breakfast, I -heard some bustle in the neighbourhood of Mr. Rochester's chamber, -Mrs. Fairfax's voice, and Leah's, and the cook's that is, John's -wife and even John's own gruff tones. There were exclamations -of "What a mercy master was not burnt in his bed" "It is always -dangerous to keep a candle lit at night." "How providential that -he had presence of mind to think of the waterjug" "I wonder -he waked nobody" "It is to be hoped he will not take cold with -sleeping on the library sofa," c. -To much confabulation succeeded a sound of scrubbing and setting to -rights and when I passed the room, in going downstairs to dinner, -I saw through the open door that all was again restored to complete -order only the bed was stripped of its hangings. Leah stood up -in the windowseat, rubbing the panes of glass dimmed with smoke. -I was about to address her, for I wished to know what account had -been given of the affair but, on advancing, I saw a second person -in the chamber a woman sitting on a chair by the bedside, and -sewing rings to new curtains. That woman was no other than Grace -Poole. -There she sat, staid and taciturnlooking, as usual, in her brown -stuff gown, her check apron, white handkerchief, and cap. She was -intent on her work, in which her whole thoughts seemed absorbed -on her hard forehead, and in her commonplace features, was nothing -either of the paleness or desperation one would have expected to -see marking the countenance of a woman who had attempted murder, and -whose intended victim had followed her last night to her lair, and -as I believed, charged her with the crime she wished to perpetrate. -I was amazed confounded. She looked up, while I still gazed at -her no start, no increase or failure of colour betrayed emotion, -consciousness of guilt, or fear of detection. She said "Good -morning, Miss," in her usual phlegmatic and brief manner and taking -up another ring and more tape, went on with her sewing. -"I will put her to some test," thought I "such absolute impenetrability -is past comprehension." -"Good morning, Grace," I said. "Has anything happened here? I -thought I heard the servants all talking together a while ago." -"Only master had been reading in his bed last night he fell asleep -with his candle lit, and the curtains got on fire but, fortunately, -he awoke before the bedclothes or the woodwork caught, and -contrived to quench the flames with the water in the ewer." -"A strange affair" I said, in a low voice then, looking at her -fixedly "Did Mr. Rochester wake nobody? Did no one hear him -move?" -She again raised her eyes to me, and this time there was something -of consciousness in their expression. She seemed to examine -me warily then she answered -"The servants sleep so far off, you know, Miss, they would not be -likely to hear. Mrs. Fairfax's room and yours are the nearest to -master's but Mrs. Fairfax said she heard nothing when people -get elderly, they often sleep heavy." She paused, and then added, -with a sort of assumed indifference, but still in a marked and -significant tone "But you are young, Miss and I should say a -light sleeper perhaps you may have heard a noise?" -"I did," said I, dropping my voice, so that Leah, who was still -polishing the panes, could not hear me, "and at first I thought -it was Pilot but Pilot cannot laugh and I am certain I heard a -laugh, and a strange one." -She took a new needleful of thread, waxed it carefully, threaded her -needle with a steady hand, and then observed, with perfect composure -"It is hardly likely master would laugh, I should think, Miss, when -he was in such danger You must have been dreaming." -"I was not dreaming," I said, with some warmth, for her brazen -coolness provoked me. Again she looked at me and with the same -scrutinising and conscious eye. -"Have you told master that you heard a laugh?" she inquired. -"I have not had the opportunity of speaking to him this morning." -"You did not think of opening your door and looking out into the -gallery?" she further asked. -She appeared to be crossquestioning me, attempting to draw from -me information unawares. The idea struck me that if she discovered -I knew or suspected her guilt, she would be playing of some of her -malignant pranks on me I thought it advisable to be on my guard. -"On the contrary," said I, "I bolted my door." -"Then you are not in the habit of bolting your door every night -before you get into bed?" -"Fiend she wants to know my habits, that she may lay her plans -accordingly" Indignation again prevailed over prudence I replied -sharply, "Hitherto I have often omitted to fasten the bolt I did -not think it necessary. I was not aware any danger or annoyance -was to be dreaded at Thornfield Hall but in future" and I laid -marked stress on the words "I shall take good care to make all -secure before I venture to lie down." -"It will be wise so to do," was her answer "this neighbourhood -is as quiet as any I know, and I never heard of the hall being -attempted by robbers since it was a house though there are hundreds -of pounds' worth of plate in the platecloset, as is well known. -And you see, for such a large house, there are very few servants, -because master has never lived here much and when he does come, -being a bachelor, he needs little waiting on but I always think -it best to err on the safe side a door is soon fastened, and it -is as well to have a drawn bolt between one and any mischief that -may be about. A deal of people, Miss, are for trusting all to -Providence but I say Providence will not dispense with the means, -though He often blesses them when they are used discreetly." And -here she closed her harangue a long one for her, and uttered with -the demureness of a Quakeress. -I still stood absolutely dumfoundered at what appeared to me her -miraculous selfpossession and most inscrutable hypocrisy, when -the cook entered. -"Mrs. Poole," said she, addressing Grace, "the servants' dinner -will soon be ready will you come down?" -"No just put my pint of porter and bit of pudding on a tray, and -I'll carry it upstairs." -"You'll have some meat?" -"Just a morsel, and a taste of cheese, that's all." -"And the sago?" -"Never mind it at present I shall be coming down before teatime -I'll make it myself." -The cook here turned to me, saying that Mrs. Fairfax was waiting -for me so I departed. -I hardly heard Mrs. Fairfax's account of the curtain conflagration -during dinner, so much was I occupied in puzzling my brains over the -enigmatical character of Grace Poole, and still more in pondering -the problem of her position at Thornfield and questioning why -she had not been given into custody that morning, or, at the very -least, dismissed from her master's service. He had almost as much -as declared his conviction of her criminality last night what -mysterious cause withheld him from accusing her? Why had he -enjoined me, too, to secrecy? It was strange a bold, vindictive, -and haughty gentleman seemed somehow in the power of one of the -meanest of his dependants so much in her power, that even when -she lifted her hand against his life, he dared not openly charge -her with the attempt, much less punish her for it. -Had Grace been young and handsome, I should have been tempted to -think that tenderer feelings than prudence or fear influenced Mr. -Rochester in her behalf but, hardfavoured and matronly as she -was, the idea could not be admitted. "Yet," I reflected, "she has -been young once her youth would be contemporary with her master's -Mrs. Fairfax told me once, she had lived here many years. I don't -think she can ever have been pretty but, for aught I know, she -may possess originality and strength of character to compensate -for the want of personal advantages. Mr. Rochester is an amateur -of the decided and eccentric Grace is eccentric at least. What -if a former caprice a freak very possible to a nature so sudden and -headstrong as his has delivered him into her power, and she now -exercises over his actions a secret influence, the result of his own -indiscretion, which he cannot shake off, and dare not disregard?" -But, having reached this point of conjecture, Mrs. Poole's square, -flat figure, and uncomely, dry, even coarse face, recurred so -distinctly to my mind's eye, that I thought, "No impossible my -supposition cannot be correct. Yet," suggested the secret voice -which talks to us in our own hearts, "you are not beautiful either, -and perhaps Mr. Rochester approves you at any rate, you have often -felt as if he did and last night remember his words remember -his look remember his voice" -I well remembered all language, glance, and tone seemed at the -moment vividly renewed. I was now in the schoolroom Adele was -drawing I bent over her and directed her pencil. She looked up -with a sort of start. -"Qu' avezvous, mademoiselle?" said she. "Vos doigts tremblent -comme la feuille, et vos joues sont rouges mais, rouges comme -des cerises" -"I am hot, Adele, with stooping" She went on sketching I went -on thinking. -I hastened to drive from my mind the hateful notion I had been -conceiving respecting Grace Poole it disgusted me. I compared -myself with her, and found we were different. Bessie Leaven had -said I was quite a lady and she spoke truth I was a lady. And -now I looked much better than I did when Bessie saw me I had more -colour and more flesh, more life, more vivacity, because I had -brighter hopes and keener enjoyments. -"Evening approaches," said I, as I looked towards the window. "I -have never heard Mr. Rochester's voice or step in the house today -but surely I shall see him before night I feared the meeting in -the morning now I desire it, because expectation has been so long -baffled that it is grown impatient." -When dusk actually closed, and when Adele left me to go and play in -the nursery with Sophie, I did most keenly desire it. I listened -for the bell to ring below I listened for Leah coming up with -a message I fancied sometimes I heard Mr. Rochester's own tread, -and I turned to the door, expecting it to open and admit him. -The door remained shut darkness only came in through the window. -Still it was not late he often sent for me at seven and eight -o'clock, and it was yet but six. Surely I should not be wholly -disappointed to night, when I had so many things to say to him I -wanted again to introduce the subject of Grace Poole, and to hear -what he would answer I wanted to ask him plainly if he really -believed it was she who had made last night's hideous attempt and -if so, why he kept her wickedness a secret. It little mattered -whether my curiosity irritated him I knew the pleasure of vexing -and soothing him by turns it was one I chiefly delighted in, and -a sure instinct always prevented me from going too far beyond -the verge of provocation I never ventured on the extreme brink I -liked well to try my skill. Retaining every minute form of respect, -every propriety of my station, I could still meet him in argument -without fear or uneasy restraint this suited both him and me. -A tread creaked on the stairs at last. Leah made her appearance -but it was only to intimate that tea was ready in Mrs. Fairfax's -room. Thither I repaired, glad at least to go downstairs for that -brought me, I imagined, nearer to Mr. Rochester's presence. -"You must want your tea," said the good lady, as I joined her -"you ate so little at dinner. I am afraid," she continued, "you -are not well today you look flushed and feverish." -"Oh, quite well I never felt better." -"Then you must prove it by evincing a good appetite will you fill -the teapot while I knit off this needle?" Having completed her -task, she rose to draw down the blind, which she had hitherto kept -up, by way, I suppose, of making the most of daylight, though dusk -was now fast deepening into total obscurity. -"It is fair tonight," said she, as she looked through the panes, -"though not starlight Mr. Rochester has, on the whole, had a -favourable day for his journey." -"Journey Is Mr. Rochester gone anywhere? I did not know he -was out." -"Oh, he set off the moment he had breakfasted He is gone to the -Leas, Mr. Eshton's place, ten miles on the other side Millcote. I -believe there is quite a party assembled there Lord Ingram, Sir -George Lynn, Colonel Dent, and others." -"Do you expect him back tonight?" -"No nor tomorrow either I should think he is very likely to stay -a week or more when these fine, fashionable people get together, -they are so surrounded by elegance and gaiety, so well provided with -all that can please and entertain, they are in no hurry to separate. -Gentlemen especially are often in request on such occasions and Mr. -Rochester is so talented and so lively in society, that I believe he -is a general favourite the ladies are very fond of him though -you would not think his appearance calculated to recommend him -particularly in their eyes but I suppose his acquirements and -abilities, perhaps his wealth and good blood, make amends for any -little fault of look." -"Are there ladies at the Leas?" -"There are Mrs. Eshton and her three daughters very elegant young -ladies indeed and there are the Honourable Blanche and Mary Ingram, -most beautiful women, I suppose indeed I have seen Blanche, six -or seven years since, when she was a girl of eighteen. She came -here to a Christmas ball and party Mr. Rochester gave. You should -have seen the diningroom that day how richly it was decorated, -how brilliantly lit up I should think there were fifty ladies -and gentlemen present all of the first county families and Miss -Ingram was considered the belle of the evening." -"You saw her, you say, Mrs. Fairfax what was she like?" -"Yes, I saw her. The diningroom doors were thrown open and, as -it was Christmastime, the servants were allowed to assemble in -the hall, to hear some of the ladies sing and play. Mr. Rochester -would have me to come in, and I sat down in a quiet corner and -watched them. I never saw a more splendid scene the ladies were -magnificently dressed most of them at least most of the younger -ones looked handsome but Miss Ingram was certainly the queen." -"And what was she like?" -"Tall, fine bust, sloping shoulders long, graceful neck olive -complexion, dark and clear noble features eyes rather like Mr. -Rochester's large and black, and as brilliant as her jewels. And -then she had such a fine head of hair ravenblack and so becomingly -arranged a crown of thick plaits behind, and in front the longest, -the glossiest curls I ever saw. She was dressed in pure white an -ambercoloured scarf was passed over her shoulder and across her -breast, tied at the side, and descending in long, fringed ends -below her knee. She wore an ambercoloured flower, too, in her -hair it contrasted well with the jetty mass of her curls." -"She was greatly admired, of course?" -"Yes, indeed and not only for her beauty, but for her accomplishments. -She was one of the ladies who sang a gentleman accompanied her -on the piano. She and Mr. Rochester sang a duet." -"Mr. Rochester? I was not aware he could sing." -"Oh he has a fine bass voice, and an excellent taste for music." -"And Miss Ingram what sort of a voice had she?" -"A very rich and powerful one she sang delightfully it was a treat -to listen to her and she played afterwards. I am no judge of -music, but Mr. Rochester is and I heard him say her execution was -remarkably good." -"And this beautiful and accomplished lady, she is not yet married?" -"It appears not I fancy neither she nor her sister have very -large fortunes. Old Lord Ingram's estates were chiefly entailed, -and the eldest son came in for everything almost." -"But I wonder no wealthy nobleman or gentleman has taken a fancy -to her Mr. Rochester, for instance. He is rich, is he not?" -"Oh yes. But you see there is a considerable difference in age -Mr. Rochester is nearly forty she is but twentyfive." -"What of that? More unequal matches are made every day." -"True yet I should scarcely fancy Mr. Rochester would entertain -an idea of the sort. But you eat nothing you have scarcely tasted -since you began tea." -"No I am too thirsty to eat. Will you let me have another cup?" -I was about again to revert to the probability of a union between -Mr. Rochester and the beautiful Blanche but Adele came in, and -the conversation was turned into another channel. -When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got looked -into my heart, examined its thoughts and feelings, and endeavoured -to bring back with a strict hand such as had been straying through -imagination's boundless and trackless waste, into the safe fold of -common sense. -Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the -hopes, wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night -of the general state of mind in which I had indulged for nearly -a fortnight past Reason having come forward and told, in her own -quiet way a plain, unvarnished tale, showing how I had rejected the -real, and rabidly devoured the ideal I pronounced judgment to -this effect -That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath -of life that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself -on sweet lies, and swallowed poison as if it were nectar. -"YOU," I said, "a favourite with Mr. Rochester? YOU gifted with the -power of pleasing him? YOU of importance to him in any way? Go -your folly sickens me. And you have derived pleasure from occasional -tokens of preference equivocal tokens shown by a gentleman of -family and a man of the world to a dependent and a novice. How -dared you? Poor stupid dupe Could not even selfinterest make -you wiser? You repeated to yourself this morning the brief scene -of last night? Cover your face and be ashamed He said something -in praise of your eyes, did he? Blind puppy Open their bleared -lids and look on your own accursed senselessness It does good -to no woman to be flattered by her superior, who cannot possibly -intend to marry her and it is madness in all women to let a secret -love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and unknown, must -devour the life that feeds it and, if discovered and responded -to, must lead, ignisfatuslike, into miry wilds whence there is -no extrication. -"Listen, then, Jane Eyre, to your sentence tomorrow, place the -glass before you, and draw in chalk your own picture, faithfully, -without softening one defect omit no harsh line, smooth away no -displeasing irregularity write under it, 'Portrait of a Governess, -disconnected, poor, and plain.' -"Afterwards, take a piece of smooth ivory you have one prepared -in your drawingbox take your palette, mix your freshest, finest, -clearest tints choose your most delicate camelhair pencils -delineate carefully the loveliest face you can imagine paint -it in your softest shades and sweetest lines, according to the -description given by Mrs. Fairfax of Blanche Ingram remember the -raven ringlets, the oriental eye What you revert to Mr. Rochester -as a model Order No snivel no sentiment no regret I -will endure only sense and resolution. Recall the august yet -harmonious lineaments, the Grecian neck and bust let the round -and dazzling arm be visible, and the delicate hand omit neither -diamond ring nor gold bracelet portray faithfully the attire, -aerial lace and glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose -call it 'Blanche, an accomplished lady of rank.' -"Whenever, in future, you should chance to fancy Mr. Rochester -thinks well of you, take out these two pictures and compare them -say, 'Mr. Rochester might probably win that noble lady's love, if -he chose to strive for it is it likely he would waste a serious -thought on this indigent and insignificant plebeian?'" -"I'll do it," I resolved and having framed this determination, -I grew calm, and fell asleep. -I kept my word. An hour or two sufficed to sketch my own portrait -in crayons and in less than a fortnight I had completed an ivory -miniature of an imaginary Blanche Ingram. It looked a lovely face -enough, and when compared with the real head in chalk, the contrast -was as great as selfcontrol could desire. I derived benefit from -the task it had kept my head and hands employed, and had given -force and fixedness to the new impressions I wished to stamp -indelibly on my heart. -Ere long, I had reason to congratulate myself on the course -of wholesome discipline to which I had thus forced my feelings to -submit. Thanks to it, I was able to meet subsequent occurrences -with a decent calm, which, had they found me unprepared, I should -probably have been unequal to maintain, even externally. -CHAPTER XVII -A week passed, and no news arrived of Mr. Rochester ten days, -and still he did not come. Mrs. Fairfax said she should not be -surprised if he were to go straight from the Leas to London, and -thence to the Continent, and not show his face again at Thornfield -for a year to come he had not unfrequently quitted it in a manner -quite as abrupt and unexpected. When I heard this, I was beginning -to feel a strange chill and failing at the heart. I was actually -permitting myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment -but rallying my wits, and recollecting my principles, I at once -called my sensations to order and it was wonderful how I got over -the temporary blunder how I cleared up the mistake of supposing -Mr. Rochester's movements a matter in which I had any cause to take -a vital interest. Not that I humbled myself by a slavish -notion of inferiority on the contrary, I just said -"You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than -to receive the salary he gives you for teaching his protegee, and -to be grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as, if you do -your duty, you have a right to expect at his hands. Be sure that -is the only tie he seriously acknowledges between you and him so -don't make him the object of your fine feelings, your raptures, -agonies, and so forth. He is not of your order keep to your -caste, and be too selfrespecting to lavish the love of the whole -heart, soul, and strength, where such a gift is not wanted and -would be despised." -I went on with my day's business tranquilly but ever and anon -vague suggestions kept wandering across my brain of reasons why I -should quit Thornfield and I kept involuntarily framing advertisements -and pondering conjectures about new situations these thoughts I -did not think to check they might germinate and bear fruit if they -could. -Mr. Rochester had been absent upwards of a fortnight, when the post -brought Mrs. Fairfax a letter. -"It is from the master," said she, as she looked at the direction. -"Now I suppose we shall know whether we are to expect his return -or not." -And while she broke the seal and perused the document, I went on -taking my coffee we were at breakfast it was hot, and I attributed -to that circumstance a fiery glow which suddenly rose to my face. -Why my hand shook, and why I involuntarily spilt half the contents -of my cup into my saucer, I did not choose to consider. -"Well, I sometimes think we are too quiet but we run a chance of -being busy enough now for a little while at least," said Mrs. -Fairfax, still holding the note before her spectacles. -Ere I permitted myself to request an explanation, I tied the string -of Adele's pinafore, which happened to be loose having helped her -also to another bun and refilled her mug with milk, I said, nonchalantly -"Mr. Rochester is not likely to return soon, I suppose?" -"Indeed he is in three days, he says that will be next Thursday -and not alone either. I don't know how many of the fine people -at the Leas are coming with him he sends directions for all the -best bedrooms to be prepared and the library and drawingrooms are -to be cleaned out I am to get more kitchen hands from the George -Inn, at Millcote, and from wherever else I can and the ladies will -bring their maids and the gentlemen their valets so we shall have -a full house of it." And Mrs. Fairfax swallowed her breakfast and -hastened away to commence operations. -The three days were, as she had foretold, busy enough. I had thought -all the rooms at Thornfield beautifully clean and well arranged -but it appears I was mistaken. Three women were got to help and -such scrubbing, such brushing, such washing of paint and beating of -carpets, such taking down and putting up of pictures, such polishing -of mirrors and lustres, such lighting of fires in bedrooms, such -airing of sheets and featherbeds on hearths, I never beheld, -either before or since. Adele ran quite wild in the midst of it -the preparations for company and the prospect of their arrival, -seemed to throw her into ecstasies. She would have Sophie to look -over all her "toilettes," as she called frocks to furbish up any -that were "passees," and to air and arrange the new. For herself, -she did nothing but caper about in the front chambers, jump on and -off the bedsteads, and lie on the mattresses and piledup bolsters -and pillows before the enormous fires roaring in the chimneys. -From school duties she was exonerated Mrs. Fairfax had pressed -me into her service, and I was all day in the storeroom, helping -or hindering her and the cook learning to make custards and -cheesecakes and French pastry, to truss game and garnish desertdishes. -The party were expected to arrive on Thursday afternoon, in time -for dinner at six. During the intervening period I had no time to -nurse chimeras and I believe I was as active and gay as anybody -Adele excepted. Still, now and then, I received a damping check -to my cheerfulness and was, in spite of myself, thrown back on -the region of doubts and portents, and dark conjectures. This was -when I chanced to see the thirdstorey staircase door which of -late had always been kept locked open slowly, and give passage to -the form of Grace Poole, in prim cap, white apron, and handkerchief when -I watched her glide along the gallery, her quiet tread muffled in -a list slipper when I saw her look into the bustling, topsyturvy -bedrooms, just say a word, perhaps, to the charwoman about the -proper way to polish a grate, or clean a marble mantelpiece, or -take stains from papered walls, and then pass on. She would thus -descend to the kitchen once a day, eat her dinner, smoke a moderate -pipe on the hearth, and go back, carrying her pot of porter with -her, for her private solace, in her own gloomy, upper haunt. Only -one hour in the twentyfour did she pass with her fellowservants -below all the rest of her time was spent in some lowceiled, -oaken chamber of the second storey there she sat and sewed -and probably laughed drearily to herself, as companionless as -a prisoner in his dungeon. -The strangest thing of all was, that not a soul in the house, -except me, noticed her habits, or seemed to marvel at them no one -discussed her position or employment no one pitied her solitude -or isolation. I once, indeed, overheard part of a dialogue between -Leah and one of the charwomen, of which Grace formed the subject. -Leah had been saying something I had not caught, and the -charwoman remarked -"She gets good wages, I guess?" -"Yes," said Leah "I wish I had as good not that mine are to -complain of, there's no stinginess at Thornfield but they're -not one fifth of the sum Mrs. Poole receives. And she is laying -by she goes every quarter to the bank at Millcote. I should -not wonder but she has saved enough to keep her independent if she -liked to leave but I suppose she's got used to the place and then -she's not forty yet, and strong and able for anything. It is too -soon for her to give up business." -"She is a good hand, I daresay," said the charwoman. -"Ah she understands what she has to do, nobody better," -rejoined Leah significantly "and it is not every one could fill -her shoes not for all the money she gets." -"That it is not" was the reply. "I wonder whether the master " -The charwoman was going on but here Leah turned and perceived me, -and she instantly gave her companion a nudge. -"Doesn't she know?" I heard the woman whisper. -Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped. -All I had gathered from it amounted to this, that there was a -mystery at Thornfield and that from participation in that mystery -I was purposely excluded. -Thursday came all work had been completed the previous evening -carpets were laid down, bedhangings festooned, radiant white -counterpanes spread, toilet tables arranged, furniture rubbed, -flowers piled in vases both chambers and saloons looked as fresh -and bright as hands could make them. The hall, too, was scoured -and the great carved clock, as well as the steps and banisters of -the staircase, were polished to the brightness of glass in the -diningroom, the sideboard flashed resplendent with plate in the -drawingroom and boudoir, vases of exotics bloomed on all sides. -Afternoon arrived Mrs. Fairfax assumed her best black satin gown, -her gloves, and her gold watch for it was her part to receive the -company, to conduct the ladies to their rooms, c. Adele, too, -would be dressed though I thought she had little chance of being -introduced to the party that day at least. However, to please her, -I allowed Sophie to apparel her in one of her short, full muslin -frocks. For myself, I had no need to make any change I should not -be called upon to quit my sanctum of the schoolroom for a sanctum -it was now become to me, "a very pleasant refuge in time of -trouble." -It had been a mild, serene spring day one of those days which, -towards the end of March or the beginning of April, rise shining -over the earth as heralds of summer. It was drawing to an end now -but the evening was even warm, and I sat at work in the schoolroom -with the window open. -"It gets late," said Mrs. Fairfax, entering in rustling state. -"I am glad I ordered dinner an hour after the time Mr. Rochester -mentioned for it is past six now. I have sent John down to the -gates to see if there is anything on the road one can see a long -way from thence in the direction of Millcote." She went to the -window. "Here he is" said she. "Well, John" leaning out, "any -news?" -"They're coming, ma'am," was the answer. "They'll be here in ten -minutes." -Adele flew to the window. I followed, taking care to stand on one -side, so that, screened by the curtain, I could see without being -seen. -The ten minutes John had given seemed very long, but at last wheels -were heard four equestrians galloped up the drive, and after them -came two open carriages. Fluttering veils and waving plumes filled -the vehicles two of the cavaliers were young, dashinglooking -gentlemen the third was Mr. Rochester, on his black horse, Mesrour, -Pilot bounding before him at his side rode a lady, and he and she -were the first of the party. Her purple ridinghabit almost swept -the ground, her veil streamed long on the breeze mingling with -its transparent folds, and gleaming through them, shone rich raven -ringlets. -"Miss Ingram" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax, and away she hurried to -her post below. -The cavalcade, following the sweep of the drive, quickly turned the -angle of the house, and I lost sight of it. Adele now petitioned -to go down but I took her on my knee, and gave her to understand -that she must not on any account think of venturing in sight of -the ladies, either now or at any other time, unless expressly sent -for that Mr. Rochester would be very angry, c. "Some natural -tears she shed" on being told this but as I began to look very -grave, she consented at last to wipe them. -A joyous stir was now audible in the hall gentlemen's deep -tones and ladies' silvery accents blent harmoniously together, and -distinguishable above all, though not loud, was the sonorous voice -of the master of Thornfield Hall, welcoming his fair and gallant -guests under its roof. Then light steps ascended the stairs and -there was a tripping through the gallery, and soft cheerful laughs, -and opening and closing doors, and, for a time, a hush. -"Elles changent de toilettes," said Adele who, listening attentively, -had followed every movement and she sighed. -"Chez maman," said she, "quand il y avait du monde, je le suivais -partout, au salon et e leurs chambres souvent je regardais les -femmes de chambre coiffer et habiller les dames, et c'etait si -amusant comme cela on apprend." -"Don't you feel hungry, Adele?" -"Mais oui, mademoiselle voile cinq ou six heures que nous n'avons -pas mange." -"Well now, while the ladies are in their rooms, I will venture down -and get you something to eat." -And issuing from my asylum with precaution, I sought a backstairs -which conducted directly to the kitchen. All in that region was -fire and commotion the soup and fish were in the last stage of -projection, and the cook hung over her crucibles in a frame of mind -and body threatening spontaneous combustion. In the servants' hall -two coachmen and three gentlemen's gentlemen stood or sat round the -fire the abigails, I suppose, were upstairs with their mistresses -the new servants, that had been hired from Millcote, were bustling -about everywhere. Threading this chaos, I at last reached the -larder there I took possession of a cold chicken, a roll of bread, -some tarts, a plate or two and a knife and fork with this booty -I made a hasty retreat. I had regained the gallery, and was just -shutting the backdoor behind me, when an accelerated hum warned me -that the ladies were about to issue from their chambers. I could -not proceed to the schoolroom without passing some of their doors, -and running the risk of being surprised with my cargo of victualage -so I stood still at this end, which, being windowless, was dark -quite dark now, for the sun was set and twilight gathering. -Presently the chambers gave up their fair tenants one after another -each came out gaily and airily, with dress that gleamed lustrous -through the dusk. For a moment they stood grouped together at -the other extremity of the gallery, conversing in a key of sweet -subdued vivacity they then descended the staircase almost as -noiselessly as a bright mist rolls down a hill. Their collective -appearance had left on me an impression of highborn elegance, such -as I had never before received. -I found Adele peeping through the schoolroom door, which she held -ajar. "What beautiful ladies" cried she in English. "Oh, I wish -I might go to them Do you think Mr. Rochester will send for us -byandbye, after dinner?" -"No, indeed, I don't Mr. Rochester has something else to think -about. Never mind the ladies tonight perhaps you will see them -tomorrow here is your dinner." -She was really hungry, so the chicken and tarts served to divert -her attention for a time. It was well I secured this forage, or -both she, I, and Sophie, to whom I conveyed a share of our repast, -would have run a chance of getting no dinner at all every one -downstairs was too much engaged to think of us. The dessert was not -carried out till after nine and at ten footmen were still running -to and fro with trays and coffeecups. I allowed Adele to sit up -much later than usual for she declared she could not possibly go -to sleep while the doors kept opening and shutting below, and people -bustling about. Besides, she added, a message might possibly come -from Mr. Rochester when she was undressed "et alors quel dommage" -I told her stories as long as she would listen to them and then -for a change I took her out into the gallery. The hall lamp was -now lit, and it amused her to look over the balustrade and watch -the servants passing backwards and forwards. When the evening -was far advanced, a sound of music issued from the drawingroom, -whither the piano had been removed Adele and I sat down on the -top step of the stairs to listen. Presently a voice blent with -the rich tones of the instrument it was a lady who sang, and very -sweet her notes were. The solo over, a duet followed, and then a -glee a joyous conversational murmur filled up the intervals. I -listened long suddenly I discovered that my ear was wholly intent -on analysing the mingled sounds, and trying to discriminate amidst -the confusion of accents those of Mr. Rochester and when it caught -them, which it soon did, it found a further task in framing the -tones, rendered by distance inarticulate, into words. -The clock struck eleven. I looked at Adele, whose head leant -against my shoulder her eyes were waxing heavy, so I took her up -in my arms and carried her off to bed. It was near one before the -gentlemen and ladies sought their chambers. -The next day was as fine as its predecessor it was devoted by -the party to an excursion to some site in the neighbourhood. They -set out early in the forenoon, some on horseback, the rest in -carriages I witnessed both the departure and the return. Miss -Ingram, as before, was the only lady equestrian and, as before, -Mr. Rochester galloped at her side the two rode a little apart from -the rest. I pointed out this circumstance to Mrs. Fairfax, -who was standing at the window with me -"You said it was not likely they should think of being married," -said I, "but you see Mr. Rochester evidently prefers her to any of -the other ladies." -"Yes, I daresay no doubt he admires her." -"And she him," I added "look how she leans her head towards him -as if she were conversing confidentially I wish I could see her -face I have never had a glimpse of it yet." -"You will see her this evening," answered Mrs. Fairfax. "I happened -to remark to Mr. Rochester how much Adele wished to be introduced -to the ladies, and he said 'Oh let her come into the drawingroom -after dinner and request Miss Eyre to accompany her.'" -"Yes he said that from mere politeness I need not go, I am sure," -I answered. -"Well, I observed to him that as you were unused to company, I did -not think you would like appearing before so gay a party all -strangers and he replied, in his quick way 'Nonsense If she -objects, tell her it is my particular wish and if she resists, -say I shall come and fetch her in case of contumacy.'" -"I will not give him that trouble," I answered. "I will go, if -no better may be but I don't like it. Shall you be there, Mrs. -Fairfax?" -"No I pleaded off, and he admitted my plea. I'll tell you how to -manage so as to avoid the embarrassment of making a formal entrance, -which is the most disagreeable part of the business. You must go -into the drawingroom while it is empty, before the ladies leave -the dinnertable choose your seat in any quiet nook you like you -need not stay long after the gentlemen come in, unless you please -just let Mr. Rochester see you are there and then slip away -nobody will notice you." -"Will these people remain long, do you think?" -"Perhaps two or three weeks, certainly not more. After the -Easter recess, Sir George Lynn, who was lately elected member for -Millcote, will have to go up to town and take his seat I daresay -Mr. Rochester will accompany him it surprises me that he has -already made so protracted a stay at Thornfield." -It was with some trepidation that I perceived the hour approach -when I was to repair with my charge to the drawingroom. Adele -had been in a state of ecstasy all day, after hearing she was to be -presented to the ladies in the evening and it was not till Sophie -commenced the operation of dressing her that she sobered down. Then -the importance of the process quickly steadied her, and by the time -she had her curls arranged in wellsmoothed, drooping clusters, her -pink satin frock put on, her long sash tied, and her lace mittens -adjusted, she looked as grave as any judge. No need to warn her not -to disarrange her attire when she was dressed, she sat demurely -down in her little chair, taking care previously to lift up the -satin skirt for fear she should crease it, and assured me she would -not stir thence till I was ready. This I quickly was my best -dress the silvergrey one, purchased for Miss Temple's wedding, -and never worn since was soon put on my hair was soon smoothed -my sole ornament, the pearl brooch, soon assumed. We descended. -Fortunately there was another entrance to the drawingroom than -that through the saloon where they were all seated at dinner. We -found the apartment vacant a large fire burning silently on the -marble hearth, and wax candles shining in bright solitude, amid the -exquisite flowers with which the tables were adorned. The crimson -curtain hung before the arch slight as was the separation -this drapery formed from the party in the adjoining saloon, they -spoke in so low a key that nothing of their conversation could be -distinguished beyond a soothing murmur. -Adele, who appeared to be still under the influence of a most -solemnising impression, sat down, without a word, on the footstool I -pointed out to her. I retired to a windowseat, and taking a book -from a table near, endeavoured to read. Adele brought her stool -to my feet ere long she touched my knee. -"What is it, Adele?" -"Estce que je ne puis pas prendrie une seule de ces fleurs -magnifiques, mademoiselle? Seulement pour completer ma toilette." -"You think too much of your 'toilette,' Adele but you may have -a flower." And I took a rose from a vase and fastened it in her -sash. She sighed a sigh of ineffable satisfaction, as if her cup -of happiness were now full. I turned my face away to conceal a -smile I could not suppress there was something ludicrous as well -as painful in the little Parisienne's earnest and innate devotion -to matters of dress. -A soft sound of rising now became audible the curtain was swept -back from the arch through it appeared the diningroom, with its -lit lustre pouring down light on the silver and glass of a magnificent -dessertservice covering a long table a band of ladies stood in -the opening they entered, and the curtain fell behind them. -There were but eight yet, somehow, as they flocked in, they gave -the impression of a much larger number. Some of them were very -tall many were dressed in white and all had a sweeping amplitude -of array that seemed to magnify their persons as a mist magnifies -the moon. I rose and curtseyed to them one or two bent their -heads in return, the others only stared at me. -They dispersed about the room, reminding me, by the lightness and -buoyancy of their movements, of a flock of white plumy birds. Some -of them threw themselves in halfreclining positions on the sofas -and ottomans some bent over the tables and examined the flowers -and books the rest gathered in a group round the fire all -talked in a low but clear tone which seemed habitual to them. I -knew their names afterwards, and may as well mention them now. -First, there was Mrs. Eshton and two of her daughters. She had -evidently been a handsome woman, and was well preserved still. -Of her daughters, the eldest, Amy, was rather little naive, -and childlike in face and manner, and piquant in form her white -muslin dress and blue sash became her well. The second, Louisa, -was taller and more elegant in figure with a very pretty face, -of that order the French term minois chiffone both sisters were -fair as lilies. -Lady Lynn was a large and stout personage of about forty, very erect, -very haughtylooking, richly dressed in a satin robe of changeful -sheen her dark hair shone glossily under the shade of an azure -plume, and within the circlet of a band of gems. -Mrs. Colonel Dent was less showy but, I thought, more ladylike. -She had a slight figure, a pale, gentle face, and fair hair. Her -black satin dress, her scarf of rich foreign lace, and her pearl -ornaments, pleased me better than the rainbow radiance of the titled -dame. -But the three most distinguished partly, perhaps, because the -tallest figures of the band were the Dowager Lady Ingram and her -daughters, Blanche and Mary. They were all three of the loftiest -stature of women. The Dowager might be between forty and fifty -her shape was still fine her hair by candlelight at least still -black her teeth, too, were still apparently perfect. Most people -would have termed her a splendid woman of her age and so she was, -no doubt, physically speaking but then there was an expression of -almost insupportable haughtiness in her bearing and countenance. -She had Roman features and a double chin, disappearing into a throat -like a pillar these features appeared to me not only inflated and -darkened, but even furrowed with pride and the chin was sustained -by the same principle, in a position of almost preternatural -erectness. She had, likewise, a fierce and a hard eye it reminded -me of Mrs. Reed's she mouthed her words in speaking her voice -was deep, its inflections very pompous, very dogmatical, very -intolerable, in short. A crimson velvet robe, and a shawl turban -of some goldwrought Indian fabric, invested her I suppose she -thought with a truly imperial dignity. -Blanche and Mary were of equal stature, straight and tall as -poplars. Mary was too slim for her height, but Blanche was moulded -like a Dian. I regarded her, of course, with special interest. -First, I wished to see whether her appearance accorded with -Mrs. Fairfax's description secondly, whether it at all resembled -the fancy miniature I had painted of her and thirdly it will -out whether it were such as I should fancy likely to suit Mr. -Rochester's taste. -As far as person went, she answered point for point, both to my -picture and Mrs. Fairfax's description. The noble bust, the sloping -shoulders, the graceful neck, the dark eyes and black ringlets -were all there but her face? Her face was like her mother's -a youthful unfurrowed likeness the same low brow, the same high -features, the same pride. It was not, however, so saturnine a -pride she laughed continually her laugh was satirical, and so -was the habitual expression of her arched and haughty lip. -Genius is said to be selfconscious. I cannot tell whether Miss -Ingram was a genius, but she was selfconscious remarkably self -conscious indeed. She entered into a discourse on botany with the -gentle Mrs. Dent. It seemed Mrs. Dent had not studied that science -though, as she said, she liked flowers, "especially wild ones" -Miss Ingram had, and she ran over its vocabulary with an air. I -presently perceived she was what is vernacularly termed TRAILING -Mrs. Dent that is, playing on her ignorance her TRAIL might be -clever, but it was decidedly not goodnatured. She played her -execution was brilliant she sang her voice was fine she talked -French apart to her mamma and she talked it well, with fluency -and with a good accent. -Mary had a milder and more open countenance than Blanche softer -features too, and a skin some shades fairer Miss Ingram was dark -as a Spaniard but Mary was deficient in life her face lacked -expression, her eye lustre she had nothing to say, and having once -taken her seat, remained fixed like a statue in its niche. The -sisters were both attired in spotless white. -And did I now think Miss Ingram such a choice as Mr. Rochester -would be likely to make? I could not tell I did not know his -taste in female beauty. If he liked the majestic, she was the -very type of majesty then she was accomplished, sprightly. Most -gentlemen would admire her, I thought and that he DID admire her, -I already seemed to have obtained proof to remove the last shade -of doubt, it remained but to see them together. -You are not to suppose, reader, that Adele has all this time been -sitting motionless on the stool at my feet no when the ladies -entered, she rose, advanced to meet them, made a stately -reverence, and said with gravity -"Bon jour, mesdames." -And Miss Ingram had looked down at her with a mocking air, and -exclaimed, "Oh, what a little puppet" -Lady Lynn had remarked, "It is Mr. Rochester's ward, I suppose -the little French girl he was speaking of." -Mrs. Dent had kindly taken her hand, and given her a kiss. -Amy and Louisa Eshton had cried out simultaneously "What a love -of a child" -And then they had called her to a sofa, where she now sat, ensconced -between them, chattering alternately in French and broken English -absorbing not only the young ladies' attention, but that of Mrs. -Eshton and Lady Lynn, and getting spoilt to her heart's content. -At last coffee is brought in, and the gentlemen are summoned. I -sit in the shade if any shade there be in this brilliantlylit -apartment the windowcurtain half hides me. Again the arch yawns -they come. The collective appearance of the gentlemen, like that -of the ladies, is very imposing they are all costumed in black -most of them are tall, some young. Henry and Frederick Lynn are -very dashing sparks indeed and Colonel Dent is a fine soldierly -man. Mr. Eshton, the magistrate of the district, is gentlemanlike -his hair is quite white, his eyebrows and whiskers still dark, -which gives him something of the appearance of a "pere noble de -theatre." Lord Ingram, like his sisters, is very tall like them, -also, he is handsome but he shares Mary's apathetic and listless -look he seems to have more length of limb than vivacity of blood -or vigour of brain. -And where is Mr. Rochester? -He comes in last I am not looking at the arch, yet I see him -enter. I try to concentrate my attention on those nettingneedles, -on the meshes of the purse I am forming I wish to think only -of the work I have in my hands, to see only the silver beads and -silk threads that lie in my lap whereas, I distinctly behold his -figure, and I inevitably recall the moment when I last saw it just -after I had rendered him, what he deemed, an essential service, and -he, holding my hand, and looking down on my face, surveyed me with -eyes that revealed a heart full and eager to overflow in whose -emotions I had a part. How near had I approached him at that moment -What had occurred since, calculated to change his and my relative -positions? Yet now, how distant, how far estranged we were So -far estranged, that I did not expect him to come and speak to me. -I did not wonder, when, without looking at me, he took a seat at -the other side of the room, and began conversing with some of the -ladies. -No sooner did I see that his attention was riveted on them, and -that I might gaze without being observed, than my eyes were drawn -involuntarily to his face I could not keep their lids under control -they would rise, and the irids would fix on him. I looked, and had -an acute pleasure in looking, a precious yet poignant pleasure -pure gold, with a steely point of agony a pleasure like what the -thirstperishing man might feel who knows the well to which he has -crept is poisoned, yet stoops and drinks divine draughts nevertheless. -Most true is it that "beauty is in the eye of the gazer." My -master's colourless, olive face, square, massive brow, broad and -jetty eyebrows, deep eyes, strong features, firm, grim mouth, all -energy, decision, will, were not beautiful, according to rule -but they were more than beautiful to me they were full of an interest, -an influence that quite mastered me, that took my feelings from -my own power and fettered them in his. I had not intended to love -him the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul -the germs of love there detected and now, at the first renewed view -of him, they spontaneously arrived, green and strong He made me -love him without looking at me. -I compared him with his guests. What was the gallant grace of the -Lynns, the languid elegance of Lord Ingram, even the military -distinction of Colonel Dent, contrasted with his look of native -pith and genuine power? I had no sympathy in their appearance, -their expression yet I could imagine that most observers would -call them attractive, handsome, imposing while they would pronounce -Mr. Rochester at once harshfeatured and melancholylooking. I -saw them smile, laugh it was nothing the light of the candles -had as much soul in it as their smile the tinkle of the bell as -much significance as their laugh. I saw Mr. Rochester smile his -stern features softened his eye grew both brilliant and gentle, -its ray both searching and sweet. He was talking, at the moment, -to Louisa and Amy Eshton. I wondered to see them receive with -calm that look which seemed to me so penetrating I expected their -eyes to fall, their colour to rise under it yet I was glad when I -found they were in no sense moved. "He is not to them what he is -to me," I thought "he is not of their kind. I believe he is of -mine I am sure he is I feel akin to him I understand the -language of his countenance and movements though rank and wealth -sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my -blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him. Did I say, -a few days since, that I had nothing to do with him but to receive -my salary at his hands? Did I forbid myself to think of him in any -other light than as a paymaster? Blasphemy against nature Every -good, true, vigorous feeling I have gathers impulsively round him. -I know I must conceal my sentiments I must smother hope I must -remember that he cannot care much for me. For when I say that I -am of his kind, I do not mean that I have his force to influence, -and his spell to attract I mean only that I have certain tastes -and feelings in common with him. I must, then, repeat continually -that we are for ever sundered and yet, while I breathe and think, -I must love him." -Coffee is handed. The ladies, since the gentlemen entered, have -become lively as larks conversation waxes brisk and merry. Colonel -Dent and Mr. Eshton argue on politics their wives listen. The two -proud dowagers, Lady Lynn and Lady Ingram, confabulate together. -Sir George whom, bythebye, I have forgotten to describe, a -very big, and very freshlooking country gentleman, stands before -their sofa, coffeecup in hand, and occasionally puts in a word. -Mr. Frederick Lynn has taken a seat beside Mary Ingram, and is -showing her the engravings of a splendid volume she looks, smiles -now and then, but apparently says little. The tall and phlegmatic -Lord Ingram leans with folded arms on the chairback of the little -and lively Amy Eshton she glances up at him, and chatters like -a wren she likes him better than she does Mr. Rochester. Henry -Lynn has taken possession of an ottoman at the feet of Louisa -Adele shares it with him he is trying to talk French with her, -and Louisa laughs at his blunders. With whom will Blanche Ingram -pair? She is standing alone at the table, bending gracefully over -an album. She seems waiting to be sought but she will not wait -too long she herself selects a mate. -Mr. Rochester, having quitted the Eshtons, stands on the hearth -as solitary as she stands by the table she confronts him, taking -her station on the opposite side of the mantelpiece. -"Mr. Rochester, I thought you were not fond of children?" -"Nor am I." -"Then, what induced you to take charge of such a little doll as -that?" pointing to Adele. "Where did you pick her up?" -"I did not pick her up she was left on my hands." -"You should have sent her to school." -"I could not afford it schools are so dear." -"Why, I suppose you have a governess for her I saw a person with -her just now is she gone? Oh, no there she is still, behind -the windowcurtain. You pay her, of course I should think it -quite as expensive, more so for you have them both to keep in -addition." -I feared or should I say, hoped? the allusion to me would -make Mr. Rochester glance my way and I involuntarily shrank farther -into the shade but he never turned his eyes. -"I have not considered the subject," said he indifferently, looking -straight before him. -"No, you men never do consider economy and common sense. You should -hear mama on the chapter of governesses Mary and I have had, I -should think, a dozen at least in our day half of them detestable -and the rest ridiculous, and all incubi were they not, mama?" -"Did you speak, my own?" -The young lady thus claimed as the dowager's special property, -reiterated her question with an explanation. -"My dearest, don't mention governesses the word makes me nervous. -I have suffered a martyrdom from their incompetency and caprice. -I thank Heaven I have now done with them" -Mrs. Dent here bent over to the pious lady and whispered something -in her ear I suppose, from the answer elicited, it was a reminder -that one of the anathematised race was present. -"Tant pis" said her Ladyship, "I hope it may do her good" Then, -in a lower tone, but still loud enough for me to hear, "I noticed -her I am a judge of physiognomy, and in hers I see all the faults -of her class." -"What are they, madam?" inquired Mr. Rochester aloud. -"I will tell you in your private ear," replied she, wagging her -turban three times with portentous significancy. -"But my curiosity will be past its appetite it craves food now." -"Ask Blanche she is nearer you than I." -"Oh, don't refer him to me, mama I have just one word to say of -the whole tribe they are a nuisance. Not that I ever suffered much -from them I took care to turn the tables. What tricks Theodore -and I used to play on our Miss Wilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame -Jouberts Mary was always too sleepy to join in a plot with -spirit. The best fun was with Madame Joubert Miss Wilson was -a poor sickly thing, lachrymose and lowspirited, not worth the -trouble of vanquishing, in short and Mrs. Grey was coarse and -insensible no blow took effect on her. But poor Madame Joubert -I see her yet in her raging passions, when we had driven her to -extremities spilt our tea, crumbled our bread and butter, tossed -our books up to the ceiling, and played a charivari with the ruler -and desk, the fender and fireirons. Theodore, do you remember -those merry days?" -"Yaas, to be sure I do," drawled Lord Ingram "and the poor old -stick used to cry out 'Oh you villains childs' and then we -sermonised her on the presumption of attempting to teach such clever -blades as we were, when she was herself so ignorant." -"We did and, Tedo, you know, I helped you in prosecuting or -persecuting your tutor, wheyfaced Mr. Vining the parson in the -pip, as we used to call him. He and Miss Wilson took the liberty -of falling in love with each other at least Tedo and I thought -so we surprised sundry tender glances and sighs which we interpreted -as tokens of 'la belle passion,' and I promise you the public soon -had the benefit of our discovery we employed it as a sort of lever -to hoist our deadweights from the house. Dear mama, there, as -soon as she got an inkling of the business, found out that it was -of an immoral tendency. Did you not, my ladymother?" -"Certainly, my best. And I was quite right depend on that -there are a thousand reasons why liaisons between governesses and -tutors should never be tolerated a moment in any wellregulated -house firstly " -"Oh, gracious, mama Spare us the enumeration Au reste, we -all know them danger of bad example to innocence of childhood -distractions and consequent neglect of duty on the part of the attached -mutual alliance and reliance confidence thence resulting -insolence accompanying mutiny and general blowup. Am I right, -Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?" -"My lilyflower, you are right now, as always." -"Then no more need be said change the subject." -Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in with -her soft, infantine tone "Louisa and I used to quiz our governess -too but she was such a good creature, she would bear anything -nothing put her out. She was never cross with us was she, Louisa?" -"No, never we might do what we pleased ransack her desk and -her workbox, and turn her drawers inside out and she was so good -natured, she would give us anything we asked for." -"I suppose, now," said Miss Ingram, curling her lip sarcastically, -"we shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the governesses -extant in order to avert such a visitation, I again move -the introduction of a new topic. Mr. Rochester, do you second my -motion?" -"Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other." -"Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior Eduardo, -are you in voice tonight?" -"Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be." -"Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your -lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal -service." -"Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?" -"A fig for Rizzio" cried she, tossing her head with all its -curls, as she moved to the piano. "It is my opinion the fiddler -David must have been an insipid sort of fellow I like black Bothwell -better to my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil -in him and history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I -have a notion, he was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero -whom I could have consented to gift with my hand." -"Gentlemen, you hear Now which of you most resembles Bothwell?" -cried Mr. Rochester. -"I should say the preference lies with you," responded Colonel -Dent. -"On my honour, I am much obliged to you," was the reply. -Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at the -piano, spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude, commenced -a brilliant prelude talking meantime. She appeared to be on her -high horse tonight both her words and her air seemed intended to -excite not only the admiration, but the amazement of her auditors -she was evidently bent on striking them as something very dashing -and daring indeed. -"Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day" exclaimed -she, rattling away at the instrument. "Poor, puny things, not fit -to stir a step beyond papa's park gates nor to go even so far -without mama's permission and guardianship Creatures so absorbed -in care about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and -their small feet as if a man had anything to do with beauty As -if loveliness were not the special prerogative of woman her -legitimate appanage and heritage I grant an ugly WOMAN is a blot -on the fair face of creation but as to the GENTLEMEN, let them be -solicitous to possess only strength and valour let their motto -be Hunt, shoot, and fight the rest is not worth a fillip. Such -should be my device, were I a man." -"Whenever I marry," she continued after a pause which none interrupted, -"I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me. -I will suffer no competitor near the throne I shall exact an -undivided homage his devotions shall not be shared between me -and the shape he sees in his mirror. Mr. Rochester, now sing, and -I will play for you." -"I am all obedience," was the response. -"Here then is a Corsairsong. Know that I doat on Corsairs and -for that reason, sing it con spirito." -"Commands from Miss Ingram's lips would put spirit into a mug of -milk and water." -"Take care, then if you don't please me, I will shame you by -showing how such things SHOULD be done." -"That is offering a premium on incapacity I shall now endeavour -to fail." -"Gardezvous en bien If you err wilfully, I shall devise a -proportionate punishment." -"Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to -inflict a chastisement beyond mortal endurance." -"Ha explain" commanded the lady. -"Pardon me, madam no need of explanation your own fine sense must -inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute -for capital punishment." -"Sing" said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an -accompaniment in spirited style. -"Now is my time to slip away," thought I but the tones that then -severed the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester -possessed a fine voice he did a mellow, powerful bass, into -which he threw his own feeling, his own force finding a way through -the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I -waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired till -the tide of talk, checked an instant, had resumed its flow I then -quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by the sidedoor, -which was fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led into the -hall in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose I stopped -to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of -the staircase. I heard the diningroom door unclose a gentleman -came out rising hastily, I stood face to face with him it was -Mr. Rochester. -"How do you do?" he asked. -"I am very well, sir." -"Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?" -I thought I might have retorted the question on him who -put it but I would not take that freedom. I answered -"I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir." -"What have you been doing during my absence?" -"Nothing particular teaching Adele as usual." -"And getting a good deal paler than you were as I saw at first -sight. What is the matter?" -"Nothing at all, sir." -"Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?" -"Not the least." -"Return to the drawingroom you are deserting too early." -"I am tired, sir." -He looked at me for a minute. -"And a little depressed," he said. "What about? Tell me." -"Nothing nothing, sir. I am not depressed." -"But I affirm that you are so much depressed that a few more -words would bring tears to your eyes indeed, they are there -now, shining and swimming and a bead has slipped from the lash -and fallen on to the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal -dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what -all this means. Well, tonight I excuse you but understand that -so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawingroom -every evening it is my wish don't neglect it. Now go, and send -Sophie for Adele. Goodnight, my " He stopped, bit his lip, -and abruptly left me. -CHAPTER XVIII -Merry days were these at Thornfield Hall and busy days too how -different from the first three months of stillness, monotony, and -solitude I had passed beneath its roof All sad feelings seemed -now driven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten there -was life everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now -traverse the gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, -once so tenantless, without encountering a smart lady'smaid or a -dandy valet. -The kitchen, the butler's pantry, the servants' hall, the entrance -hall, were equally alive and the saloons were only left void and -still when the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial spring -weather called their occupants out into the grounds. Even when -that weather was broken, and continuous rain set in for some days, -no damp seemed cast over enjoyment indoor amusements only became -more lively and varied, in consequence of the stop put to outdoor -gaiety. -I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change -of entertainment was proposed they spoke of "playing charades," -but in my ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants -were called in, the diningroom tables wheeled away, the lights -otherwise disposed, the chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the -arch. While Mr. Rochester and the other gentlemen directed these -alterations, the ladies were running up and down stairs ringing -for their maids. Mrs. Fairfax was summoned to give information -respecting the resources of the house in shawls, dresses, draperies of -any kind and certain wardrobes of the third storey were ransacked, -and their contents, in the shape of brocaded and hooped petticoats, -satin sacques, black modes, lace lappets, c., were brought down in -armfuls by the abigails then a selection was made, and such things -as were chosen were carried to the boudoir within the drawingroom. -Meantime, Mr. Rochester had again summoned the ladies round him, -and was selecting certain of their number to be of his party. "Miss -Ingram is mine, of course," said he afterwards he named the two -Misses Eshton, and Mrs. Dent. He looked at me I happened to be -near him, as I had been fastening the clasp of Mrs. Dent's bracelet, -which had got loose. -"Will you play?" he asked. I shook my head. He did not insist, -which I rather feared he would have done he allowed me to return -quietly to my usual seat. -He and his aids now withdrew behind the curtain the other party, -which was headed by Colonel Dent, sat down on the crescent of chairs. -One of the gentlemen, Mr. Eshton, observing me, seemed to propose -that I should be asked to join them but Lady Ingram instantly -negatived the notion. -"No," I heard her say "she looks too stupid for any game of the -sort." -Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the arch, -the bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had likewise -chosen, was seen enveloped in a white sheet before him, on -a table, lay open a large book and at his side stood Amy Eshton, -draped in Mr. Rochester's cloak, and holding a book in her hand. -Somebody, unseen, rang the bell merrily then Adele who had insisted -on being one of her guardian's party, bounded forward, scattering -round her the contents of a basket of flowers she carried on her -arm. Then appeared the magnificent figure of Miss Ingram, clad -in white, a long veil on her head, and a wreath of roses round her -brow by her side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they drew near -the table. They knelt while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton, dressed -also in white, took up their stations behind them. A ceremony -followed, in dumb show, in which it was easy to recognise the -pantomime of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent and his -party consulted in whispers for two minutes, then the Colonel called out -"Bride" Mr. Rochester bowed, and the curtain fell. -A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second -rising displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last. -The drawingroom, as I have before observed, was raised two steps -above the diningroom, and on the top of the upper step, placed a -yard or two back within the room, appeared a large marble basin -which I recognised as an ornament of the conservatory where it -usually stood, surrounded by exotics, and tenanted by gold fish -and whence it must have been transported with some trouble, on -account of its size and weight. -Seated on the carpet, by the side of this basin, was seen Mr. -Rochester, costumed in shawls, with a turban on his head. His -dark eyes and swarthy skin and Paynim features suited the costume -exactly he looked the very model of an Eastern emir, an agent -or a victim of the bowstring. Presently advanced into view Miss -Ingram. She, too, was attired in oriental fashion a crimson -scarf tied sashlike round the waist an embroidered handkerchief -knotted about her temples her beautifullymoulded arms bare, one -of them upraised in the act of supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully -on her head. Both her cast of form and feature, her complexion and -her general air, suggested the idea of some Israelitish princess -of the patriarchal days and such was doubtless the character she -intended to represent. -She approached the basin, and bent over it as if to fill her pitcher -she again lifted it to her head. The personage on the wellbrink -now seemed to accost her to make some request "She hasted, let -down her pitcher on her hand, and gave him to drink." From the -bosom of his robe he then produced a casket, opened it and showed -magnificent bracelets and earrings she acted astonishment and -admiration kneeling, he laid the treasure at her feet incredulity -and delight were expressed by her looks and gestures the stranger -fastened the bracelets on her arms and the rings in her ears. It -was Eliezer and Rebecca the camels only were wanting. -The divining party again laid their heads together apparently they -could not agree about the word or syllable the scene illustrated. -Colonel Dent, their spokesman, demanded "the tableau of the whole" -whereupon the curtain again descended. -On its third rising only a portion of the drawingroom was disclosed -the rest being concealed by a screen, hung with some sort of dark -and coarse drapery. The marble basin was removed in its place, -stood a deal table and a kitchen chair these objects were visible -by a very dim light proceeding from a horn lantern, the wax candles -being all extinguished. -Amidst this sordid scene, sat a man with his clenched hands resting -on his knees, and his eyes bent on the ground. I knew Mr. Rochester -though the begrimed face, the disordered dress his coat hanging -loose from one arm, as if it had been almost torn from his back -in a scuffle, the desperate and scowling countenance, the rough, -bristling hair might well have disguised him. As he moved, a chain -clanked to his wrists were attached fetters. -"Bridewell" exclaimed Colonel Dent, and the charade was solved. -A sufficient interval having elapsed for the performers to resume -their ordinary costume, they reentered the diningroom. Mr. Rochester -led in Miss Ingram she was complimenting him on his acting. -"Do you know," said she, "that, of the three characters, I liked -you in the last best? Oh, had you but lived a few years earlier, -what a gallant gentlemanhighwayman you would have made" -"Is all the soot washed from my face?" he asked, turning it towards -her. -"Alas yes the more's the pity Nothing could be more becoming -to your complexion than that ruffian's rouge." -"You would like a hero of the road then?" -"An English hero of the road would be the next best thing to an -Italian bandit and that could only be surpassed by a Levantine -pirate." -"Well, whatever I am, remember you are my wife we were married an -hour since, in the presence of all these witnesses." She giggled, -and her colour rose. -"Now, Dent," continued Mr. Rochester, "it is your turn." And as -the other party withdrew, he and his band took the vacated seats. -Miss Ingram placed herself at her leader's right hand the other -diviners filled the chairs on each side of him and her. I did -not now watch the actors I no longer waited with interest for the -curtain to rise my attention was absorbed by the spectators my -eyes, erewhile fixed on the arch, were now irresistibly attracted -to the semicircle of chairs. What charade Colonel Dent and his party -played, what word they chose, how they acquitted themselves, I no -longer remember but I still see the consultation which followed -each scene I see Mr. Rochester turn to Miss Ingram, and Miss -Ingram to him I see her incline her head towards him, till the -jetty curls almost touch his shoulder and wave against his cheek -I hear their mutual whisperings I recall their interchanged glances -and something even of the feeling roused by the spectacle returns -in memory at this moment. -I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Mr. Rochester -I could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had -ceased to notice me because I might pass hours in his presence, -and he would never once turn his eyes in my direction because -I saw all his attentions appropriated by a great lady, who scorned -to touch me with the hem of her robes as she passed who, if ever -her dark and imperious eye fell on me by chance, would withdraw -it instantly as from an object too mean to merit observation. I -could not unlove him, because I felt sure he would soon marry this -very lady because I read daily in her a proud security in his -intentions respecting her because I witnessed hourly in him -a style of courtship which, if careless and choosing rather to be -sought than to seek, was yet, in its very carelessness, captivating, -and in its very pride, irresistible. -There was nothing to cool or banish love in these circumstances, -though much to create despair. Much too, you will think, reader, -to engender jealousy if a woman, in my position, could presume -to be jealous of a woman in Miss Ingram's. But I was not jealous -or very rarely the nature of the pain I suffered could not be -explained by that word. Miss Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy -she was too inferior to excite the feeling. Pardon the seeming -paradox I mean what I say. She was very showy, but she was not -genuine she had a fine person, many brilliant attainments but -her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature nothing bloomed -spontaneously on that soil no unforced natural fruit delighted by -its freshness. She was not good she was not original she used -to repeat sounding phrases from books she never offered, nor had, -an opinion of her own. She advocated a high tone of sentiment but -she did not know the sensations of sympathy and pity tenderness and -truth were not in her. Too often she betrayed this, by the undue -vent she gave to a spiteful antipathy she had conceived against -little Adele pushing her away with some contumelious epithet if -she happened to approach her sometimes ordering her from the room, -and always treating her with coldness and acrimony. Other eyes -besides mine watched these manifestations of character watched -them closely, keenly, shrewdly. Yes the future bridegroom, -Mr. Rochester himself, exercised over his intended a ceaseless -surveillance and it was from this sagacity this guardedness of -his this perfect, clear consciousness of his fair one's defects -this obvious absence of passion in his sentiments towards her, -that my evertorturing pain arose. -I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps political -reasons, because her rank and connections suited him I felt he -had not given her his love, and that her qualifications were ill -adapted to win from him that treasure. This was the point this -was where the nerve was touched and teased this was where the -fever was sustained and fed SHE COULD NOT CHARM HIM. -If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and -sincerely laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face, -turned to the wall, and figuratively have died to them. If Miss -Ingram had been a good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour, -kindness, sense, I should have had one vital struggle with two tigers -jealousy and despair then, my heart torn out and devoured, I -should have admired her acknowledged her excellence, and been -quiet for the rest of my days and the more absolute her superiority, -the deeper would have been my admiration the more truly tranquil -my quiescence. But as matters really stood, to watch Miss Ingram's -efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to witness their repeated -failure herself unconscious that they did fail vainly fancying -that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedly pluming -herself on success, when her pride and selfcomplacency repelled -further and further what she wished to allure to witness THIS, -was to be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthless restraint. -Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded. Arrows -that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and fell -harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand, -have quivered keen in his proud heart have called love into his -stern eye, and softness into his sardonic face or, better still, -without weapons a silent conquest might have been won. -"Why can she not influence him more, when she is privileged to draw -so near to him?" I asked myself. "Surely she cannot truly like -him, or not like him with true affection If she did, she need not -coin her smiles so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly, -manufacture airs so elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems -to me that she might, by merely sitting quietly at his side, saying -little and looking less, get nigher his heart. I have seen in his -face a far different expression from that which hardens it now while -she is so vivaciously accosting him but then it came of itself -it was not elicited by meretricious arts and calculated manoeuvres -and one had but to accept it to answer what he asked without -pretension, to address him when needful without grimace and -it increased and grew kinder and more genial, and warmed one like -a fostering sunbeam. How will she manage to please him when they -are married? I do not think she will manage it and yet it might -be managed and his wife might, I verily believe, be the very -happiest woman the sun shines on." -I have not yet said anything condemnatory of Mr. Rochester's project -of marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me when I -first discovered that such was his intention I had thought him a -man unlikely to be influenced by motives so commonplace in his choice -of a wife but the longer I considered the position, education, c., -of the parties, the less I felt justified in judging and blaming -either him or Miss Ingram for acting in conformity to ideas and -principles instilled into them, doubtless, from their childhood. -All their class held these principles I supposed, then, they had -reasons for holding them such as I could not fathom. It seemed -to me that, were I a gentleman like him, I would take to my bosom -only such a wife as I could love but the very obviousness of the -advantages to the husband's own happiness offered by this plan -convinced me that there must be arguments against its general -adoption of which I was quite ignorant otherwise I felt sure all -the world would act as I wished to act. -But in other points, as well as this, I was growing very lenient to -my master I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had once -kept a sharp lookout. It had formerly been my endeavour to study -all sides of his character to take the bad with the good and -from the just weighing of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now -I saw no bad. The sarcasm that had repelled, the harshness that -had startled me once, were only like keen condiments in a choice -dish their presence was pungent, but their absence would be felt -as comparatively insipid. And as for the vague something was it -a sinister or a sorrowful, a designing or a desponding expression? -that opened upon a careful observer, now and then, in his eye, -and closed again before one could fathom the strange depth partially -disclosed that something which used to make me fear and shrink, -as if I had been wandering amongst volcaniclooking hills, and had -suddenly felt the ground quiver and seen it gape that something, -I, at intervals, beheld still and with throbbing heart, but not -with palsied nerves. Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only -to dare to divine it and I thought Miss Ingram happy, because -one day she might look into the abyss at her leisure, explore its -secrets and analyse their nature. -Meantime, while I thought only of my master and his future bride -saw only them, heard only their discourse, and considered only -their movements of importance the rest of the party were occupied -with their own separate interests and pleasures. The Ladies Lynn -and Ingram continued to consort in solemn conferences, where they -nodded their two turbans at each other, and held up their four -hands in confronting gestures of surprise, or mystery, or horror, -according to the theme on which their gossip ran, like a pair of -magnified puppets. Mild Mrs. Dent talked with goodnatured Mrs. -Eshton and the two sometimes bestowed a courteous word or smile -on me. Sir George Lynn, Colonel Dent, and Mr. Eshton discussed -politics, or county affairs, or justice business. Lord Ingram -flirted with Amy Eshton Louisa played and sang to and with one -of the Messrs. Lynn and Mary Ingram listened languidly to the -gallant speeches of the other. Sometimes all, as with one consent, -suspended their byplay to observe and listen to the principal actors -for, after all, Mr. Rochester and because closely connected -with him Miss Ingram were the life and soul of the party. If -he was absent from the room an hour, a perceptible dulness seemed -to steal over the spirits of his guests and his reentrance was -sure to give a fresh impulse to the vivacity of conversation. -The want of his animating influence appeared to be peculiarly felt -one day that he had been summoned to Millcote on business, and was -not likely to return till late. The afternoon was wet a walk -the party had proposed to take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitched -on a common beyond Hay, was consequently deferred. Some of the -gentlemen were gone to the stables the younger ones, together with -the younger ladies, were playing billiards in the billiardroom. -The dowagers Ingram and Lynn sought solace in a quiet game at cards. -Blanche Ingram, after having repelled, by supercilious taciturnity, -some efforts of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Eshton to draw her into -conversation, had first murmured over some sentimental tunes and -airs on the piano, and then, having fetched a novel from the library, -had flung herself in haughty listlessness on a sofa, and prepared -to beguile, by the spell of fiction, the tedious hours of absence. -The room and the house were silent only now and then the merriment -of the billiardplayers was heard from above. -It was verging on dusk, and the clock had already given warning of -the hour to dress for dinner, when little Adele, who knelt -by me in the drawingroom windowseat, suddenly exclaimed -"Voile, Monsieur Rochester, qui revient" -I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa the -others, too, looked up from their several occupations for at the -same time a crunching of wheels and a splashing tramp of horsehoofs -became audible on the wet gravel. A postchaise was approaching. -"What can possess him to come home in that style?" said Miss Ingram. -"He rode Mesrour the black horse, did he not, when he went out? -and Pilot was with him what has he done with the animals?" -As she said this, she approached her tall person and ample garments -so near the window, that I was obliged to bend back almost to the -breaking of my spine in her eagerness she did not observe me at -first, but when she did, she curled her lip and moved to another -casement. The postchaise stopped the driver rang the doorbell, -and a gentleman alighted attired in travelling garb but it was not -Mr. Rochester it was a tall, fashionablelooking man, a stranger. -"How provoking" exclaimed Miss Ingram "you tiresome monkey" -apostrophising Adele, "who perched you up in the window to give -false intelligence?" and she cast on me an angry glance, as if I -were in fault. -Some parleying was audible in the hall, and soon the newcomer -entered. He bowed to Lady Ingram, as deeming her the eldest lady -present. -"It appears I come at an inopportune time, madam," said he, "when -my friend, Mr. Rochester, is from home but I arrive from a very -long journey, and I think I may presume so far on old and intimate -acquaintance as to instal myself here till he returns." -His manner was polite his accent, in speaking, struck me as being -somewhat unusual, not precisely foreign, but still not altogether -English his age might be about Mr. Rochester's, between thirty -and forty his complexion was singularly sallow otherwise he was -a finelooking man, at first sight especially. On closer examination, -you detected something in his face that displeased, or rather that -failed to please. His features were regular, but too relaxed his -eye was large and well cut, but the life looking out of it was a -tame, vacant life at least so I thought. -The sound of the dressingbell dispersed the party. It was not -till after dinner that I saw him again he then seemed quite at -his ease. But I liked his physiognomy even less than before it -struck me as being at the same time unsettled and inanimate. His -eye wandered, and had no meaning in its wandering this gave him -an odd look, such as I never remembered to have seen. For a handsome -and not an unamiablelooking man, he repelled me exceedingly there -was no power in that smoothskinned face of a full oval shape no -firmness in that aquiline nose and small cherry mouth there was -no thought on the low, even forehead no command in that blank, -brown eye. -As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at him with the light of -the girandoles on the mantelpiece beaming full over him for he -occupied an armchair drawn close to the fire, and kept shrinking -still nearer, as if he were cold, I compared him with Mr. Rochester. -I think with deference be it spoken the contrast could not be -much greater between a sleek gander and a fierce falcon between -a meek sheep and the roughcoated keeneyed dog, its guardian. -He had spoken of Mr. Rochester as an old friend. A curious friendship -theirs must have been a pointed illustration, indeed, of the old -adage that "extremes meet." -Two or three of the gentlemen sat near him, and I caught at times -scraps of their conversation across the room. At first I could -not make much sense of what I heard for the discourse of Louisa -Eshton and Mary Ingram, who sat nearer to me, confused the fragmentary -sentences that reached me at intervals. These last were discussing -the stranger they both called him "a beautiful man." Louisa -said he was "a love of a creature," and she "adored him" and Mary -instanced his "pretty little mouth, and nice nose," as her ideal -of the charming. -"And what a sweettempered forehead he has" cried Louisa, "so -smooth none of those frowning irregularities I dislike so much -and such a placid eye and smile" -And then, to my great relief, Mr. Henry Lynn summoned them to the -other side of the room, to settle some point about the deferred -excursion to Hay Common. -I was now able to concentrate my attention on the group by the fire, -and I presently gathered that the newcomer was called Mr. Mason -then I learned that he was but just arrived in England, and that -he came from some hot country which was the reason, doubtless, -his face was so sallow, and that he sat so near the hearth, and -wore a surtout in the house. Presently the words Jamaica, Kingston, -Spanish Town, indicated the West Indies as his residence and it -was with no little surprise I gathered, ere long, that he had there -first seen and become acquainted with Mr. Rochester. He spoke -of his friend's dislike of the burning heats, the hurricanes, and -rainy seasons of that region. I knew Mr. Rochester had been a -traveller Mrs. Fairfax had said so but I thought the continent -of Europe had bounded his wanderings till now I had never heard -a hint given of visits to more distant shores. -I was pondering these things, when an incident, and a somewhat -unexpected one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr. Mason, shivering -as some one chanced to open the door, asked for more coal to be -put on the fire, which had burnt out its flame, though its mass of -cinder still shone hot and red. The footman who brought the coal, -in going out, stopped near Mr. Eshton's chair, and said something -to him in a low voice, of which I heard only the words, "old woman," -"quite troublesome." -"Tell her she shall be put in the stocks if she does not take -herself off," replied the magistrate. -"No stop" interrupted Colonel Dent. "Don't send her away, -Eshton we might turn the thing to account better consult the -ladies." And speaking aloud, he continued "Ladies, you talked -of going to Hay Common to visit the gipsy camp Sam here says that -one of the old Mother Bunches is in the servants' hall at this -moment, and insists upon being brought in before 'the quality,' to -tell them their fortunes. Would you like to see her?" -"Surely, colonel," cried Lady Ingram, "you would not encourage such -a low impostor? Dismiss her, by all means, at once" -"But I cannot persuade her to go away, my lady," said the footman -"nor can any of the servants Mrs. Fairfax is with her just now, -entreating her to be gone but she has taken a chair in the chimney -comer, and says nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leave -to come in here." -"What does she want?" asked Mrs. Eshton. -"'To tell the gentry their fortunes,' she says, ma'am and she -swears she must and will do it." -"What is she like?" inquired the Misses Eshton, in a breath. -"A shockingly ugly old creature, miss almost as black as a crock." -"Why, she's a real sorceress" cried Frederick Lynn. "Let us have -her in, of course." -"To be sure," rejoined his brother "it would be a thousand pities -to throw away such a chance of fun." -"My dear boys, what are you thinking about?" exclaimed Mrs. Lynn. -"I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding," -chimed in the Dowager Ingram. -"Indeed, mama, but you can and will," pronounced the haughty -voice of Blanche, as she turned round on the pianostool where -till now she had sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of -music. "I have a curiosity to hear my fortune told therefore, -Sam, order the beldame forward." -"My darling Blanche recollect " -"I do I recollect all you can suggest and I must have my will -quick, Sam" -"Yes yes yes" cried all the juveniles, both ladies and -gentlemen. "Let her come it will be excellent sport" -The footman still lingered. "She looks such a rough one," said -he. -"Go" ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went. -Excitement instantly seized the whole party a running fire of -raillery and jests was proceeding when Sam returned. -"She won't come now," said he. "She says it's not her mission to -appear before the 'vulgar herd' them's her words. I must show -her into a room by herself, and then those who wish to consult her -must go to her one by one." -"You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "she -encroaches. Be advised, my angel girl and " -"Show her into the library, of course," cut in the "angel girl." "It -is not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either -I mean to have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library?" -"Yes, ma'am but she looks such a tinkler." -"Cease that chatter, blockhead and do my bidding." -Again Sam vanished and mystery, animation, expectation rose to -full flow once more. -"She's ready now," said the footman, as he reappeared. "She wishes -to know who will be her first visitor." -"I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the ladies -go," said Colonel Dent. -"Tell her, Sam, a gentleman is coming." -Sam went and returned. -"She says, sir, that she'll have no gentlemen they need not -trouble themselves to come near her nor," he added, with difficulty -suppressing a titter, "any ladies either, except the young, and -single." -"By Jove, she has taste" exclaimed Henry Lynn. -Miss Ingram rose solemnly "I go first," she said, in a tone which -might have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a breach -in the van of his men. -"Oh, my best oh, my dearest pause reflect" was her mama's -cry but she swept past her in stately silence, passed through -the door which Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the -library. -A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram thought it "le cas" to -wring her hands which she did accordingly. Miss Mary declared -she felt, for her part, she never dared venture. Amy and Louisa -Eshton tittered under their breath, and looked a little frightened. -The minutes passed very slowly fifteen were counted before the -librarydoor again opened. Miss Ingram returned to us through the -arch. -Would she laugh? Would she take it as a joke? All eyes met her -with a glance of eager curiosity, and she met all eyes with one of -rebuff and coldness she looked neither flurried nor merry she -walked stiffly to her seat, and took it in silence. -"Well, Blanche?" said Lord Ingram. -"What did she say, sister?" asked Mary. -"What did you think? How do you feel? Is she a real fortuneteller?" -demanded the Misses Eshton. -"Now, now, good people," returned Miss Ingram, "don't press upon -me. Really your organs of wonder and credulity are easily excited -you seem, by the importance of you all my good mama included -ascribe to this matter, absolutely to believe we have a genuine -witch in the house, who is in close alliance with the old gentleman. -I have seen a gipsy vagabond she has practised in hackneyed fashion -the science of palmistry and told me what such people usually tell. -My whim is gratified and now I think Mr. Eshton will do well to -put the hag in the stocks tomorrow morning, as he threatened." -Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in her chair, and so declined -further conversation. I watched her for nearly halfanhour during -all that time she never turned a page, and her face grew momently -darker, more dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive of disappointment. -She had obviously not heard anything to her advantage and it -seemed to me, from her prolonged fit of gloom and taciturnity, that -she herself, notwithstanding her professed indifference, attached -undue importance to whatever revelations had been made her. -Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Eshton, declared they dared -not go alone and yet they all wished to go. A negotiation was opened -through the medium of the ambassador, Sam and after much pacing -to and fro, till, I think, the said Sam's calves must have ached -with the exercise, permission was at last, with great difficulty, -extorted from the rigorous Sibyl, for the three to wait upon her -in a body. -Their visit was not so still as Miss Ingram's had been we heard -hysterical giggling and little shrieks proceeding from the library -and at the end of about twenty minutes they burst the door open, -and came running across the hall, as if they were halfscared out -of their wits. -"I am sure she is something not right" they cried, one and all. -"She told us such things She knows all about us" and they sank -breathless into the various seats the gentlemen hastened to bring -them. -Pressed for further explanation, they declared she had told them -of things they had said and done when they were mere children -described books and ornaments they had in their boudoirs at home -keepsakes that different relations had presented to them. They -affirmed that she had even divined their thoughts, and had whispered -in the ear of each the name of the person she liked best in the -world, and informed them of what they most wished for. -Here the gentlemen interposed with earnest petitions to be further -enlightened on these two lastnamed points but they got only -blushes, ejaculations, tremors, and titters, in return for their -importunity. The matrons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes and -wielded fans and again and again reiterated the expression of -their concern that their warning had not been taken in time and -the elder gentlemen laughed, and the younger urged their services -on the agitated fair ones. -In the midst of the tumult, and while my eyes and ears were fully -engaged in the scene before me, I heard a hem close at my elbow -I turned, and saw Sam. -"If you please, miss, the gipsy declares that there is another -young single lady in the room who has not been to her yet, and she -swears she will not go till she has seen all. I thought it must -be you there is no one else for it. What shall I tell her?" -"Oh, I will go by all means," I answered and I was glad of the -unexpected opportunity to gratify my muchexcited curiosity. I -slipped out of the room, unobserved by any eye for the company -were gathered in one mass about the trembling trio just returned -and I closed the door quietly behind me. -"If you like, miss," said Sam, "I'll wait in the hall for you and -if she frightens you, just call and I'll come in." -"No, Sam, return to the kitchen I am not in the least afraid." -Nor was I but I was a good deal interested and excited. -CHAPTER XIX -The library looked tranquil enough as I entered it, and the Sibyl -if Sibyl she were was seated snugly enough in an easychair -at the chimneycorner. She had on a red cloak and a black bonnet -or rather, a broadbrimmed gipsy hat, tied down with a striped -handkerchief under her chin. An extinguished candle stood on -the table she was bending over the fire, and seemed reading in a -little black book, like a prayerbook, by the light of the blaze -she muttered the words to herself, as most old women do, while she -read she did not desist immediately on my entrance it appeared -she wished to finish a paragraph. -I stood on the rug and warmed my hands, which were rather cold with -sitting at a distance from the drawingroom fire. I felt now as -composed as ever I did in my life there was nothing indeed in -the gipsy's appearance to trouble one's calm. She shut her book -and slowly looked up her hatbrim partially shaded her face, yet -I could see, as she raised it, that it was a strange one. It looked -all brown and black elflocks bristled out from beneath a white -band which passed under her chin, and came half over her cheeks, -or rather jaws her eye confronted me at once, with a bold and -direct gaze. -"Well, and you want your fortune told?" she said, in a voice as -decided as her glance, as harsh as her features. -"I don't care about it, mother you may please yourself but I -ought to warn you, I have no faith." -"It's like your impudence to say so I expected it of you I heard -it in your step as you crossed the threshold." -"Did you? You've a quick ear." -"I have and a quick eye and a quick brain." -"You need them all in your trade." -"I do especially when I've customers like you to deal with. Why -don't you tremble?" -"I'm not cold." -"Why don't you turn pale?" -"I am not sick." -"Why don't you consult my art?" -"I'm not silly." -The old crone "nichered" a laugh under her bonnet and bandage she -then drew out a short black pipe, and lighting it began to smoke. -Having indulged a while in this sedative, she raised her bent body, -took the pipe from her lips, and while gazing steadily at the fire, -said very deliberately "You are cold you are sick and you are -silly." -"Prove it," I rejoined. -"I will, in few words. You are cold, because you are alone no -contact strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick -because the best of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given -to man, keeps far away from you. You are silly, because, suffer -as you may, you will not beckon it to approach, nor will you stir -one step to meet it where it waits you." -She again put her short black pipe to her lips, and renewed her -smoking with vigour. -"You might say all that to almost any one who you knew lived as a -solitary dependent in a great house." -"I might say it to almost any one but would it be true of almost -any one?" -"In my circumstances." -"Yes just so, in YOUR circumstances but find me another precisely -placed as you are." -"It would be easy to find you thousands." -"You could scarcely find me one. If you knew it, you are peculiarly -situated very near happiness yes, within reach of it. The -materials are all prepared there only wants a movement to combine -them. Chance laid them somewhat apart let them be once approached -and bliss results." -"I don't understand enigmas. I never could guess a riddle in my -life." -"If you wish me to speak more plainly, show me your palm." -"And I must cross it with silver, I suppose?" -"To be sure." -I gave her a shilling she put it into an old stockingfoot which -she took out of her pocket, and having tied it round and returned -it, she told me to hold out my hand. I did. She arched her face -to the palm, and pored over it without touching it. -"It is too fine," said she. "I can make nothing of such a hand as -that almost without lines besides, what is in a palm? Destiny -is not written there." -"I believe you," said I. -"No," she continued, "it is in the face on the forehead, about -the eyes, in the lines of the mouth. Kneel, and lift up your head." -"Ah now you are coming to reality," I said, as I obeyed her. "I -shall begin to put some faith in you presently." -I knelt within half a yard of her. She stirred the fire, so -that a ripple of light broke from the disturbed coal the glare, -however, as she sat, only threw her face into deeper shadow mine, -it illumined. -"I wonder with what feelings you came to me tonight," she said, -when she had examined me a while. "I wonder what thoughts are busy -in your heart during all the hours you sit in yonder room with the -fine people flitting before you like shapes in a magiclantern -just as little sympathetic communion passing between you and them -as if they were really mere shadows of human forms, and not the -actual substance." -"I feel tired often, sleepy sometimes, but seldom sad." -"Then you have some secret hope to buoy you up and please you with -whispers of the future?" -"Not I. The utmost I hope is, to save money enough out of my earnings -to set up a school some day in a little house rented by myself." -"A mean nutriment for the spirit to exist on and sitting -in that windowseat you see I know your habits " -"You have learned them from the servants." -"Ah you think yourself sharp. Well, perhaps I have to speak -truth, I have an acquaintance with one of them, Mrs. Poole " -I started to my feet when I heard the name. -"You have have you?" thought I "there is diablerie in the -business after all, then" -"Don't be alarmed," continued the strange being "she's a safe -hand is Mrs. Poole close and quiet any one may repose confidence -in her. But, as I was saying sitting in that windowseat, do -you think of nothing but your future school? Have you no present -interest in any of the company who occupy the sofas and chairs -before you? Is there not one face you study? one figure whose -movements you follow with at least curiosity?" -"I like to observe all the faces and all the figures." -"But do you never single one from the rest or it may be, two?" -"I do frequently when the gestures or looks of a pair seem telling -a tale it amuses me to watch them." -"What tale do you like best to hear?" -"Oh, I have not much choice They generally run on the same theme -courtship and promise to end in the same catastrophe marriage." -"And do you like that monotonous theme?" -"Positively, I don't care about it it is nothing to me." -"Nothing to you? When a lady, young and full of life and -health, charming with beauty and endowed with the gifts of rank -and fortune, sits and smiles in the eyes of a gentleman you " -"I what?" -"You know and perhaps think well of." -"I don't know the gentlemen here. I have scarcely interchanged -a syllable with one of them and as to thinking well of them, I -consider some respectable, and stately, and middleaged, and others -young, dashing, handsome, and lively but certainly they are all -at liberty to be the recipients of whose smiles they please, without -my feeling disposed to consider the transaction of any moment to -me." -"You don't know the gentlemen here? You have not exchanged a -syllable with one of them? Will you say that of the master of the -house" -"He is not at home." -"A profound remark A most ingenious quibble He went to Millcote -this morning, and will be back here tonight or tomorrow does -that circumstance exclude him from the list of your acquaintance -blot him, as it were, out of existence?" -"No but I can scarcely see what Mr. Rochester has to do with the -theme you had introduced." -"I was talking of ladies smiling in the eyes of gentlemen and of -late so many smiles have been shed into Mr. Rochester's eyes that -they overflow like two cups filled above the brim have you never -remarked that?" -"Mr. Rochester has a right to enjoy the society of his guests." -"No question about his right but have you never observed that, -of all the tales told here about matrimony, Mr. Rochester has been -favoured with the most lively and the most continuous?" -"The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator." I -said this rather to myself than to the gipsy, whose strange talk, -voice, manner, had by this time wrapped me in a kind of dream. One -unexpected sentence came from her lips after another, till I got -involved in a web of mystification and wondered what unseen spirit -had been sitting for weeks by my heart watching its workings and -taking record of every pulse. -"Eagerness of a listener" repeated she "yes Mr. Rochester has -sat by the hour, his ear inclined to the fascinating lips that took -such delight in their task of communicating and Mr. Rochester was -so willing to receive and looked so grateful for the pastime given -him you have noticed this?" -"Grateful I cannot remember detecting gratitude in his face." -"Detecting You have analysed, then. And what did you detect, if -not gratitude?" -I said nothing. -"You have seen love have you not? and, looking forward, you -have seen him married, and beheld his bride happy?" -"Humph Not exactly. Your witch's skill is rather at fault -sometimes." -"What the devil have you seen, then?" -"Never mind I came here to inquire, not to confess. Is it known -that Mr. Rochester is to be married?" -"Yes and to the beautiful Miss Ingram." -"Shortly?" -"Appearances would warrant that conclusion and, no doubt though, -with an audacity that wants chastising out of you, you seem to -question it, they will be a superlatively happy pair. He must -love such a handsome, noble, witty, accomplished lady and probably -she loves him, or, if not his person, at least his purse. I know -she considers the Rochester estate eligible to the last degree -though God pardon me I told her something on that point about -an hour ago which made her look wondrous grave the corners of her -mouth fell half an inch. I would advise her blackaviced suitor to -look out if another comes, with a longer or clearer rentroll, -he's dished " -"But, mother, I did not come to hear Mr. Rochester's fortune I -came to hear my own and you have told me nothing of it." -"Your fortune is yet doubtful when I examined your face, one trait -contradicted another. Chance has meted you a measure of happiness -that I know. I knew it before I came here this evening. She has -laid it carefully on one side for you. I saw her do it. It depends -on yourself to stretch out your hand, and take it up but whether -you will do so, is the problem I study. Kneel again on the rug." -"Don't keep me long the fire scorches me." -I knelt. She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, -leaning back in her chair. She began muttering, -"The flame flickers in the eye the eye shines like dew it looks -soft and full of feeling it smiles at my jargon it is susceptible -impression follows impression through its clear sphere where it -ceases to smile, it is sad an unconscious lassitude weighs on the -lid that signifies melancholy resulting from loneliness. It turns -from me it will not suffer further scrutiny it seems to deny, -by a mocking glance, the truth of the discoveries I have already -made, to disown the charge both of sensibility and chagrin -its pride and reserve only confirm me in my opinion. The eye is -favourable. -"As to the mouth, it delights at times in laughter it is disposed -to impart all that the brain conceives though I daresay it would -be silent on much the heart experiences. Mobile and flexible, -it was never intended to be compressed in the eternal silence of -solitude it is a mouth which should speak much and smile often, -and have human affection for its interlocutor. That feature too -is propitious. -"I see no enemy to a fortunate issue but in the brow and that -brow professes to say, 'I can live alone, if selfrespect, and -circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy -bliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me -alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered -only at a price I cannot afford to give.' The forehead declares, -'Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let the -feelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions may -rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are and the desires -may imagine all sorts of vain things but judgment shall still -have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in -every decision. Strong wind, earthquakeshock, and fire may pass -by but I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice which -interprets the dictates of conscience.' -"Well said, forehead your declaration shall be respected. I have -formed my plans right plans I deem them and in them I have -attended to the claims of conscience, the counsels of reason. I -know how soon youth would fade and bloom perish, if, in the cup -of bliss offered, but one dreg of shame, or one flavour of remorse -were detected and I do not want sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution -such is not my taste. I wish to foster, not to blight to earn -gratitude, not to wring tears of blood no, nor of brine my -harvest must be in smiles, in endearments, in sweet That will -do. I think I rave in a kind of exquisite delirium. I should wish -now to protract this moment ad infinitum but I dare not. So far -I have governed myself thoroughly. I have acted as I inwardly swore -I would act but further might try me beyond my strength. Rise, -Miss Eyre leave me the play is played out'." -Where was I? Did I wake or sleep? Had I been dreaming? Did I -dream still? The old woman's voice had changed her accent, her -gesture, and all were familiar to me as my own face in a glass -as the speech of my own tongue. I got up, but did not go. I -looked I stirred the fire, and I looked again but she drew her -bonnet and her bandage closer about her face, and again beckoned me -to depart. The flame illuminated her hand stretched out roused -now, and on the alert for discoveries, I at once noticed that -hand. It was no more the withered limb of eld than my own it was -a rounded supple member, with smooth fingers, symmetrically turned -a broad ring flashed on the little finger, and stooping forward, -I looked at it, and saw a gem I had seen a hundred times before. -Again I looked at the face which was no longer turned from me -on the contrary, the bonnet was doffed, the bandage displaced, the -head advanced. -"Well, Jane, do you know me?" asked the familiar voice. -"Only take off the red cloak, sir, and then " -"But the string is in a knot help me." -"Break it, sir." -"There, then 'Off, ye lendings'" And Mr. Rochester stepped -out of his disguise. -"Now, sir, what a strange idea" -"But well carried out, eh? Don't you think so?" -"With the ladies you must have managed well." -"But not with you?" -"You did not act the character of a gipsy with me." -"What character did I act? My own?" -"No some unaccountable one. In short, I believe you have been -trying to draw me out or in you have been talking nonsense to -make me talk nonsense. It is scarcely fair, sir." -"Do you forgive me, Jane?" -"I cannot tell till I have thought it all over. If, on reflection, -I find I have fallen into no great absurdity, I shall try to forgive -you but it was not right." -"Oh, you have been very correct very careful, very sensible." -I reflected, and thought, on the whole, I had. It was a comfort -but, indeed, I had been on my guard almost from the beginning of -the interview. Something of masquerade I suspected. I knew gipsies -and fortunetellers did not express themselves as this seeming old -woman had expressed herself besides I had noted her feigned voice, -her anxiety to conceal her features. But my mind had been running -on Grace Poole that living enigma, that mystery of mysteries, -as I considered her. I had never thought of Mr. Rochester. -"Well," said he, "what are you musing about? What does that grave -smile signify?" -"Wonder and selfcongratulation, sir. I have your permission to -retire now, I suppose?" -"No stay a moment and tell me what the people in the drawingroom -yonder are doing." -"Discussing the gipsy, I daresay." -"Sit down Let me hear what they said about me." -"I had better not stay long, sir it must be near eleven o'clock. -Oh, are you aware, Mr. Rochester, that a stranger has arrived here -since you left this morning?" -"A stranger no who can it be? I expected no one is he gone?" -"No he said he had known you long, and that he could take the -liberty of installing himself here till you returned." -"The devil he did Did he give his name?" -"His name is Mason, sir and he comes from the West Indies from -Spanish Town, in Jamaica, I think." -Mr. Rochester was standing near me he had taken my hand, as if -to lead me to a chair. As I spoke he gave my wrist a convulsive -grip the smile on his lips froze apparently a spasm caught his -breath. -"Mason the West Indies" he said, in the tone one might fancy -a speaking automaton to enounce its single words "Mason the -West Indies" he reiterated and he went over the syllables three -times, growing, in the intervals of speaking, whiter than ashes -he hardly seemed to know what he was doing. -"Do you feel ill, sir?" I inquired. -"Jane, I've got a blow I've got a blow, Jane" He staggered. -"Oh, lean on me, sir." -"Jane, you offered me your shoulder once before let me have it -now." -"Yes, sir, yes and my arm." -He sat down, and made me sit beside him. Holding my hand in both -his own, he chafed it gazing on me, at the same time, with the -most troubled and dreary look. -"My little friend" said he, "I wish I were in a quiet island -with only you and trouble, and danger, and hideous recollections -removed from me." -"Can I help you, sir? I'd give my life to serve you." -"Jane, if aid is wanted, I'll seek it at your hands I promise you -that." -"Thank you, sir. Tell me what to do, I'll try, at least, to do -it." -"Fetch me now, Jane, a glass of wine from the diningroom they -will be at supper there and tell me if Mason is with them, and -what he is doing." -I went. I found all the party in the diningroom at supper, as Mr. -Rochester had said they were not seated at table, the supper was -arranged on the sideboard each had taken what he chose, and they -stood about here and there in groups, their plates and glasses in -their hands. Every one seemed in high glee laughter and conversation -were general and animated. Mr. Mason stood near the fire, talking -to Colonel and Mrs. Dent, and appeared as merry as any of them. I -filled a wineglass I saw Miss Ingram watch me frowningly as I did -so she thought I was taking a liberty, I daresay, and I returned -to the library. -Mr. Rochester's extreme pallor had disappeared, and he looked once -more firm and stern. He took the glass from my hand. -"Here is to your health, ministrant spirit" he said. He swallowed -the contents and returned it to me. "What are they doing, Jane?" -"Laughing and talking, sir." -"They don't look grave and mysterious, as if they had heard something -strange?" -"Not at all they are full of jests and gaiety." -"And Mason?" -"He was laughing too." -"If all these people came in a body and spat at me, what would you -do, Jane?" -"Turn them out of the room, sir, if I could." -He half smiled. "But if I were to go to them, and they only looked -at me coldly, and whispered sneeringly amongst each other, and then -dropped off and left me one by one, what then? Would you go with -them?" -"I rather think not, sir I should have more pleasure in staying -with you." -"To comfort me?" -"Yes, sir, to comfort you, as well as I could." -"And if they laid you under a ban for adhering to me?" -"I, probably, should know nothing about their ban and if I did, -I should care nothing about it." -"Then, you could dare censure for my sake?" -"I could dare it for the sake of any friend who deserved my adherence -as you, I am sure, do." -"Go back now into the room step quietly up to Mason, and whisper -in his ear that Mr. Rochester is come and wishes to see him show -him in here and then leave me." -"Yes, sir." -I did his behest. The company all stared at me as I passed straight -among them. I sought Mr. Mason, delivered the message, and preceded -him from the room I ushered him into the library, and then I went -upstairs. -At a late hour, after I had been in bed some time, I heard the -visitors repair to their chambers I distinguished Mr. Rochester's -voice, and heard him say, "This way, Mason this is your room." -He spoke cheerfully the gay tones set my heart at ease. I was -soon asleep. -CHAPTER XX -I had forgotten to draw my curtain, which I usually did, and also -to let down my windowblind. The consequence was, that when the -moon, which was full and bright for the night was fine, came in -her course to that space in the sky opposite my casement, and looked -in at me through the unveiled panes, her glorious gaze roused me. -Awaking in the dead of night, I opened my eyes on her disk -silverwhite and crystal clear. It was beautiful, but too solemn -I half rose, and stretched my arm to draw the curtain. -Good God What a cry -The night its silence its rest, was rent in twain by a savage, -a sharp, a shrilly sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield -Hall. -My pulse stopped my heart stood still my stretched arm was -paralysed. The cry died, and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever -being uttered that fearful shriek could not soon repeat it not -the widestwinged condor on the Andes could, twice in succession, -send out such a yell from the cloud shrouding his eyrie. The thing -delivering such utterance must rest ere it could repeat the effort. -It came out of the third storey for it passed overhead. And -overhead yes, in the room just above my chamberceiling I now -heard a struggle a deadly one it seemed from the noise -and a halfsmothered voice shouted -"Help help help" three times rapidly. -"Will no one come?" it cried and then, while the staggering and -stamping went on wildly, I distinguished through plank and plaster -"Rochester Rochester for God's sake, come" -A chamberdoor opened some one ran, or rushed, along the gallery. -Another step stamped on the flooring above and something fell and -there was silence. -I had put on some clothes, though horror shook all my limbs I issued -from my apartment. The sleepers were all aroused ejaculations, -terrified murmurs sounded in every room door after door unclosed -one looked out and another looked out the gallery filled. Gentlemen -and ladies alike had quitted their beds and "Oh what is it?" -"Who is hurt?" "What has happened?" "Fetch a light" "Is -it fire?" "Are there robbers?" "Where shall we run?" was -demanded confusedly on all hands. But for the moonlight they would -have been in complete darkness. They ran to and fro they crowded -together some sobbed, some stumbled the confusion was inextricable. -"Where the devil is Rochester?" cried Colonel Dent. "I cannot -find him in his bed." -"Here here" was shouted in return. "Be composed, all of you -I'm coming." -And the door at the end of the gallery opened, and Mr. Rochester -advanced with a candle he had just descended from the upper storey. -One of the ladies ran to him directly she seized his arm it was -Miss Ingram. -"What awful event has taken place?" said she. "Speak let us -know the worst at once" -"But don't pull me down or strangle me," he replied for the Misses -Eshton were clinging about him now and the two dowagers, in vast -white wrappers, were bearing down on him like ships in full sail. -"All's right all's right" he cried. "It's a mere rehearsal of -Much Ado about Nothing. Ladies, keep off, or I shall wax dangerous." -And dangerous he looked his black eyes darted sparks. Calming -himself by an effort, he added -"A servant has had the nightmare that is all. She's an excitable, -nervous person she construed her dream into an apparition, or -something of that sort, no doubt and has taken a fit with fright. -Now, then, I must see you all back into your rooms for, till the -house is settled, she cannot be looked after. Gentlemen, have the -goodness to set the ladies the example. Miss Ingram, I am sure -you will not fail in evincing superiority to idle terrors. Amy and -Louisa, return to your nests like a pair of doves, as you are. -Mesdames" to the dowagers, "you will take cold to a dead certainty, -if you stay in this chill gallery any longer." -And so, by dint of alternate coaxing and commanding, he contrived -to get them all once more enclosed in their separate dormitories. -I did not wait to be ordered back to mine, but retreated unnoticed, -as unnoticed I had left it. -Not, however, to go to bed on the contrary, I began and dressed -myself carefully. The sounds I had heard after the scream, and the -words that had been uttered, had probably been heard only by me -for they had proceeded from the room above mine but they assured -me that it was not a servant's dream which had thus struck horror -through the house and that the explanation Mr. Rochester had given -was merely an invention framed to pacify his guests. I dressed, -then, to be ready for emergencies. When dressed, I sat a long -time by the window looking out over the silent grounds and silvered -fields and waiting for I knew not what. It seemed to me that some -event must follow the strange cry, struggle, and call. -No stillness returned each murmur and movement ceased gradually, -and in about an hour Thornfield Hall was again as hushed as a -desert. It seemed that sleep and night had resumed their empire. -Meantime the moon declined she was about to set. Not liking to -sit in the cold and darkness, I thought I would lie down on my bed, -dressed as I was. I left the window, and moved with little noise -across the carpet as I stooped to take off my shoes, a cautious -hand tapped low at the door. -"Am I wanted?" I asked. -"Are you up?" asked the voice I expected to hear, viz., my master's. -"Yes, sir." -"And dressed?" -"Yes." -"Come out, then, quietly." -I obeyed. Mr. Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light. -"I want you," he said "come this way take your time, and make -no noise." -My slippers were thin I could walk the matted floor as softly as -a cat. He glided up the gallery and up the stairs, and stopped in -the dark, low corridor of the fateful third storey I had followed -and stood at his side. -"Have you a sponge in your room?" he asked in a whisper. -"Yes, sir." -"Have you any salts volatile salts?" -"Yes." -"Go back and fetch both." -I returned, sought the sponge on the washstand, the salts in my -drawer, and once more retraced my steps. He still waited he held -a key in his hand approaching one of the small, black doors, he -put it in the lock he paused, and addressed me again. -"You don't turn sick at the sight of blood?" -"I think I shall not I have never been tried yet." -I felt a thrill while I answered him but no coldness, and no -faintness. -"Just give me your hand," he said "it will not do to risk a -fainting fit." -I put my fingers into his. "Warm and steady," was his remark he -turned the key and opened the door. -I saw a room I remembered to have seen before, the day Mrs. -Fairfax showed me over the house it was hung with tapestry but -the tapestry was now looped up in one part, and there was a door -apparent, which had then been concealed. This door was open -a light shone out of the room within I heard thence a snarling, -snatching sound, almost like a dog quarrelling. Mr. Rochester, -putting down his candle, said to me, "Wait a minute," and he went -forward to the inner apartment. A shout of laughter greeted his -entrance noisy at first, and terminating in Grace Poole's own goblin -ha ha SHE then was there. He made some sort of arrangement -without speaking, though I heard a low voice address him he came -out and closed the door behind him. -"Here, Jane" he said and I walked round to the other side of a -large bed, which with its drawn curtains concealed a considerable -portion of the chamber. An easychair was near the bedhead a -man sat in it, dressed with the exception of his coat he was still -his head leant back his eyes were closed. Mr. Rochester held the -candle over him I recognised in his pale and seemingly lifeless -face the stranger, Mason I saw too that his linen on one side, -and one arm, was almost soaked in blood. -"Hold the candle," said Mr. Rochester, and I took it he fetched -a basin of water from the washstand "Hold that," said he. I -obeyed. He took the sponge, dipped it in, and moistened the -corpselike face he asked for my smellingbottle, and applied it -to the nostrils. Mr. Mason shortly unclosed his eyes he groaned. -Mr. Rochester opened the shirt of the wounded man, whose arm and -shoulder were bandaged he sponged away blood, trickling fast -down. -"Is there immediate danger?" murmured Mr. Mason. -"Pooh No a mere scratch. Don't be so overcome, man bear -up I'll fetch a surgeon for you now, myself you'll be able to -be removed by morning, I hope. Jane," he continued. -"Sir?" -"I shall have to leave you in this room with this gentleman, for -an hour, or perhaps two hours you will sponge the blood as I -do when it returns if he feels faint, you will put the glass of -water on that stand to his lips, and your salts to his nose. You -will not speak to him on any pretext and Richard, it will be -at the peril of your life if you speak to her open your lips -agitate yourself and I'll not answer for the consequences." -Again the poor man groaned he looked as if he dared not move fear, -either of death or of something else, appeared almost to paralyse -him. Mr. Rochester put the now bloody sponge into my hand, and -I proceeded to use it as he had done. He watched me a second, -then saying, "Remember No conversation," he left the room. I -experienced a strange feeling as the key grated in the lock, and -the sound of his retreating step ceased to be heard. -Here then I was in the third storey, fastened into one of its mystic -cells night around me a pale and bloody spectacle under my eyes -and hands a murderess hardly separated from me by a single door -yes that was appalling the rest I could bear but I shuddered -at the thought of Grace Poole bursting out upon me. -I must keep to my post, however. I must watch this ghastly -countenance these blue, still lips forbidden to unclose -these eyes now shut, now opening, now wandering through the room, -now fixing on me, and ever glazed with the dulness of horror. I must -dip my hand again and again in the basin of blood and water, and -wipe away the trickling gore. I must see the light of the unsnuffed -candle wane on my employment the shadows darken on the wrought, -antique tapestry round me, and grow black under the hangings of -the vast old bed, and quiver strangely over the doors of a great -cabinet opposite whose front, divided into twelve panels, bore, -in grim design, the heads of the twelve apostles, each enclosed in -its separate panel as in a frame while above them at the top rose -an ebon crucifix and a dying Christ. -According as the shifting obscurity and flickering gleam hovered -here or glanced there, it was now the bearded physician, Luke, -that bent his brow now St. John's long hair that waved and anon -the devilish face of Judas, that grew out of the panel, and seemed -gathering life and threatening a revelation of the archtraitor -of Satan himself in his subordinate's form. -Amidst all this, I had to listen as well as watch to listen for -the movements of the wild beast or the fiend in yonder side den. -But since Mr. Rochester's visit it seemed spellbound all the -night I heard but three sounds at three long intervals, a step -creak, a momentary renewal of the snarling, canine noise, and a -deep human groan. -Then my own thoughts worried me. What crime was this that lived -incarnate in this sequestered mansion, and could neither be expelled -nor subdued by the owner? what mystery, that broke out now in -fire and now in blood, at the deadest hours of night? What creature -was it, that, masked in an ordinary woman's face and shape, uttered -the voice, now of a mocking demon, and anon of a carrionseeking -bird of prey? -And this man I bent over this commonplace, quiet stranger -how had he become involved in the web of horror? and why had the -Fury flown at him? What made him seek this quarter of the house -at an untimely season, when he should have been asleep in bed? I -had heard Mr. Rochester assign him an apartment below what -brought him here And why, now, was he so tame under the violence -or treachery done him? Why did he so quietly submit to the -concealment Mr. Rochester enforced? Why DID Mr. Rochester enforce -this concealment? His guest had been outraged, his own life -on a former occasion had been hideously plotted against and both -attempts he smothered in secrecy and sank in oblivion Lastly, I -saw Mr. Mason was submissive to Mr. Rochester that the impetuous -will of the latter held complete sway over the inertness of the -former the few words which had passed between them assured me of -this. It was evident that in their former intercourse, the passive -disposition of the one had been habitually influenced by the active -energy of the other whence then had arisen Mr. Rochester's dismay -when he heard of Mr. Mason's arrival? Why had the mere name of -this unresisting individual whom his word now sufficed to control -like a child fallen on him, a few hours since, as a thunderbolt -might fall on an oak? -Oh I could not forget his look and his paleness when he whispered -"Jane, I have got a blow I have got a blow, Jane." I could not -forget how the arm had trembled which he rested on my shoulder -and it was no light matter which could thus bow the resolute spirit -and thrill the vigorous frame of Fairfax Rochester. -"When will he come? When will he come?" I cried inwardly, as -the night lingered and lingered as my bleeding patient drooped, -moaned, sickened and neither day nor aid arrived. I had, again -and again, held the water to Mason's white lips again and again -offered him the stimulating salts my efforts seemed ineffectual -either bodily or mental suffering, or loss of blood, or all three -combined, were fast prostrating his strength. He moaned so, and -looked so weak, wild, and lost, I feared he was dying and I might -not even speak to him. -The candle, wasted at last, went out as it expired, I perceived -streaks of grey light edging the window curtains dawn was -then approaching. Presently I heard Pilot bark far below, out of -his distant kennel in the courtyard hope revived. Nor was it -unwarranted in five minutes more the grating key, the yielding -lock, warned me my watch was relieved. It could not have lasted -more than two hours many a week has seemed shorter. -Mr. Rochester entered, and with him the surgeon he had been to -fetch. -"Now, Carter, be on the alert," he said to this last "I give you -but halfanhour for dressing the wound, fastening the bandages, -getting the patient downstairs and all." -"But is he fit to move, sir?" -"No doubt of it it is nothing serious he is nervous, his spirits -must be kept up. Come, set to work." -Mr. Rochester drew back the thick curtain, drew up the holland -blind, let in all the daylight he could and I was surprised and -cheered to see how far dawn was advanced what rosy streaks were -beginning to brighten the east. Then he approached Mason, whom -the surgeon was already handling. -"Now, my good fellow, how are you?" he asked. -"She's done for me, I fear," was the faint reply. -"Not a whit courage This day fortnight you'll hardly be a pin -the worse of it you've lost a little blood that's all. Carter, -assure him there's no danger." -"I can do that conscientiously," said Carter, who had now undone -the bandages "only I wish I could have got here sooner he would -not have bled so much but how is this? The flesh on the shoulder -is torn as well as cut. This wound was not done with a knife -there have been teeth here" -"She bit me," he murmured. "She worried me like a tigress, when -Rochester got the knife from her." -"You should not have yielded you should have grappled with her -at once," said Mr. Rochester. -"But under such circumstances, what could one do?" returned Mason. -"Oh, it was frightful" he added, shuddering. "And I did not -expect it she looked so quiet at first." -"I warned you," was his friend's answer "I said be on your -guard when you go near her. Besides, you might have waited till -to morrow, and had me with you it was mere folly to attempt the -interview tonight, and alone." -"I thought I could have done some good." -"You thought you thought Yes, it makes me impatient to hear -you but, however, you have suffered, and are likely to suffer -enough for not taking my advice so I'll say no more. Carter -hurry hurry The sun will soon rise, and I must have him off." -"Directly, sir the shoulder is just bandaged. I must look to this -other wound in the arm she has had her teeth here too, I think." -"She sucked the blood she said she'd drain my heart," said Mason. -I saw Mr. Rochester shudder a singularly marked expression of disgust, -horror, hatred, warped his countenance almost to distortion -but he only said -"Come, be silent, Richard, and never mind her gibberish don't -repeat it." -"I wish I could forget it," was the answer. -"You will when you are out of the country when you get back to -Spanish Town, you may think of her as dead and buried or rather, -you need not think of her at all." -"Impossible to forget this night" -"It is not impossible have some energy, man. You thought you -were as dead as a herring two hours since, and you are all alive -and talking now. There Carter has done with you or nearly so -I'll make you decent in a trice. Jane" he turned to me for the -first time since his reentrance, "take this key go down into -my bedroom, and walk straight forward into my dressingroom open -the top drawer of the wardrobe and take out a clean shirt and -neckhandkerchief bring them here and be nimble." -I went sought the repository he had mentioned, found the articles -named, and returned with them. -"Now," said he, "go to the other side of the bed while I order his -toilet but don't leave the room you may be wanted again." -I retired as directed. -"Was anybody stirring below when you went down, Jane?" inquired -Mr. Rochester presently. -"No, sir all was very still." -"We shall get you off cannily, Dick and it will be better, both -for your sake, and for that of the poor creature in yonder. I have -striven long to avoid exposure, and I should not like it to come -at last. Here, Carter, help him on with his waistcoat. Where -did you leave your furred cloak? You can't travel a mile without -that, I know, in this damned cold climate. In your room? Jane, -run down to Mr. Mason's room, the one next mine, and fetch -a cloak you will see there." -Again I ran, and again returned, bearing an immense mantle lined -and edged with fur. -"Now, I've another errand for you," said my untiring master "you -must away to my room again. What a mercy you are shod with velvet, -Jane a clodhopping messenger would never do at this juncture. -You must open the middle drawer of my toilettable and take out a -little phial and a little glass you will find there, quick" -I flew thither and back, bringing the desired vessels. -"That's well Now, doctor, I shall take the liberty of administering -a dose myself, on my own responsibility. I got this cordial at -Rome, of an Italian charlatan a fellow you would have kicked, -Carter. It is not a thing to be used indiscriminately, but it is -good upon occasion as now, for instance. Jane, a little water." -He held out the tiny glass, and I half filled it from the waterbottle -on the washstand. -"That will do now wet the lip of the phial." -I did so he measured twelve drops of a crimson liquid, and presented -it to Mason. -"Drink, Richard it will give you the heart you lack, for an hour -or so." -"But will it hurt me? is it inflammatory?" -"Drink drink drink" -Mr. Mason obeyed, because it was evidently useless to resist. He -was dressed now he still looked pale, but he was no longer gory -and sullied. Mr. Rochester let him sit three minutes after -he had swallowed the liquid he then took his arm -"Now I am sure you can get on your feet," he said "try." -The patient rose. -"Carter, take him under the other shoulder. Be of good cheer, -Richard step out that's it" -"I do feel better," remarked Mr. Mason. -"I am sure you do. Now, Jane, trip on before us away to the -backstairs unbolt the sidepassage door, and tell the driver of -the postchaise you will see in the yard or just outside, for I -told him not to drive his rattling wheels over the pavement to -be ready we are coming and, Jane, if any one is about, come to -the foot of the stairs and hem." -It was by this time halfpast five, and the sun was on the point of -rising but I found the kitchen still dark and silent. The side -passage door was fastened I opened it with as little noise as -possible all the yard was quiet but the gates stood wide open, -and there was a postchaise, with horses ready harnessed, and driver -seated on the box, stationed outside. I approached him, and said -the gentlemen were coming he nodded then I looked carefully round -and listened. The stillness of early morning slumbered everywhere -the curtains were yet drawn over the servants' chamber windows -little birds were just twittering in the blossomblanched orchard -trees, whose boughs drooped like white garlands over the wall -enclosing one side of the yard the carriage horses stamped from -time to time in their closed stables all else was still. -The gentlemen now appeared. Mason, supported by Mr. Rochester and -the surgeon, seemed to walk with tolerable ease they assisted -him into the chaise Carter followed. -"Take care of him," said Mr. Rochester to the latter, "and keep -him at your house till he is quite well I shall ride over in a -day or two to see how he gets on. Richard, how is it with you?" -"The fresh air revives me, Fairfax." -"Leave the window open on his side, Carter there is no wind -good bye, Dick." -"Fairfax " -"Well what is it?" -"Let her be taken care of let her be treated as tenderly as may -be let her " he stopped and burst into tears. -"I do my best and have done it, and will do it," was the answer -he shut up the chaise door, and the vehicle drove away. -"Yet would to God there was an end of all this" added Mr. Rochester, -as he closed and barred the heavy yardgates. -This done, he moved with slow step and abstracted air towards a -door in the wall bordering the orchard. I, supposing he had done -with me, prepared to return to the house again, however, I heard -him call "Jane" He had opened feel portal and stood at it, waiting -for me. -"Come where there is some freshness, for a few moments," he said -"that house is a mere dungeon don't you feel it so?" -"It seems to me a splendid mansion, sir." -"The glamour of inexperience is over your eyes," he answered "and -you see it through a charmed medium you cannot discern that the -gilding is slime and the silk draperies cobwebs that the marble -is sordid slate, and the polished woods mere refuse chips and scaly -bark. Now HERE" he pointed to the leafy enclosure we had entered -"all is real, sweet, and pure." -He strayed down a walk edged with box, with apple trees, pear trees, -and cherry trees on one side, and a border on the other full of all -sorts of oldfashioned flowers, stocks, sweetwilliams, primroses, -pansies, mingled with southernwood, sweetbriar, and various fragrant -herbs. They were fresh now as a succession of April showers and -gleams, followed by a lovely spring morning, could make them the -sun was just entering the dappled east, and his light illumined -the wreathed and dewy orchard trees and shone down the quiet walks -under them. -"Jane, will you have a flower?" -He gathered a halfblown rose, the first on the bush, and offered -it to me. -"Thank you, sir." -"Do you like this sunrise, Jane? That sky with its high and light -clouds which are sure to melt away as the day waxes warm this -placid and balmly atmosphere?" -"I do, very much." -"You have passed a strange night, Jane." -"Yes, sir." -"And it has made you look pale were you afraid when I left you -alone with Mason?" -"I was afraid of some one coming out of the inner room." -"But I had fastened the door I had the key in my pocket I should -have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb my pet lamb -so near a wolf's den, unguarded you were safe." -"Will Grace Poole live here still, sir?" -"Oh yes don't trouble your head about her put the thing out -of your thoughts." -"Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays." -"Never fear I will take care of myself." -"Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now, sir?" -"I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England nor even -then. To live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a cratercrust which -may crack and spue fire any day." -"But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is -evidently potent with him he will never set you at defiance or -wilfully injure you." -"Oh, no Mason will not defy me nor, knowing it, will he hurt -me but, unintentionally, he might in a moment, by one careless -word, deprive me, if not of life, yet for ever of happiness." -"Tell him to be cautious, sir let him know what you fear, and -show him how to avert the danger." -He laughed sardonically, hastily took my hand, and as hastily threw -it from him. -"If I could do that, simpleton, where would the danger be? Annihilated -in a moment. Ever since I have known Mason, I have only had to say -to him 'Do that,' and the thing has been done. But I cannot give -him orders in this case I cannot say 'Beware of harming me, -Richard' for it is imperative that I should keep him ignorant that -harm to me is possible. Now you look puzzled and I will puzzle -you further. You are my little friend, are you not?" -"I like to serve you, sir, and to obey you in all that is right." -"Precisely I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait -and mien, your eye and face, when you are helping me and pleasing -me working for me, and with me, in, as you characteristically -say, 'ALL THAT IS RIGHT' for if I bid you do what you thought wrong, -there would be no lightfooted running, no neathanded alacrity, no -lively glance and animated complexion. My friend would then turn -to me, quiet and pale, and would say, 'No, sir that is impossible -I cannot do it, because it is wrong' and would become immutable -as a fixed star. Well, you too have power over me, and may injure -me yet I dare not show you where I am vulnerable, lest, faithful -and friendly as you are, you should transfix me at once." -"If you have no more to fear from Mr. Mason than you have from me, -sir, you are very safe." -"God grant it may be so Here, Jane, is an arbour sit down." -The arbour was an arch in the wall, lined with ivy it contained -a rustic seat. Mr. Rochester took it, leaving room, however, for -me but I stood before him. -"Sit," he said "the bench is long enough for two. You don't -hesitate to take a place at my side, do you? Is that wrong, Jane?" -I answered him by assuming it to refuse would, I felt, have been -unwise. -"Now, my little friend, while the sun drinks the dew while all -the flowers in this old garden awake and expand, and the birds -fetch their young ones' breakfast out of the Thornfield, and the -early bees do their first spell of work I'll put a case to you, -which you must endeavour to suppose your own but first, look -at me, and tell me you are at ease, and not fearing that I err in -detaining you, or that you err in staying." -"No, sir I am content." -"Well then, Jane, call to aid your fancy suppose you were no -longer a girl well reared and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged -from childhood upwards imagine yourself in a remote foreign land -conceive that you there commit a capital error, no matter of what -nature or from what motives, but one whose consequences must follow -you through life and taint all your existence. Mind, I don't say -a CRIME I am not speaking of shedding of blood or any other guilty -act, which might make the perpetrator amenable to the law my word -is ERROR. The results of what you have done become in time to you -utterly insupportable you take measures to obtain relief unusual -measures, but neither unlawful nor culpable. Still you are -miserable for hope has quitted you on the very confines of life -your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse, which you feel will not -leave it till the time of setting. Bitter and base associations -have become the sole food of your memory you wander here and -there, seeking rest in exile happiness in pleasure I mean in -heartless, sensual pleasure such as dulls intellect and blights -feeling. Heartweary and soulwithered, you come home after years -of voluntary banishment you make a new acquaintance how or -where no matter you find in this stranger much of the good and -bright qualities which you have sought for twenty years, and never -before encountered and they are all fresh, healthy, without soil -and without taint. Such society revives, regenerates you feel -better days come back higher wishes, purer feelings you desire -to recommence your life, and to spend what remains to you of days -in a way more worthy of an immortal being. To attain this end, -are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom a mere -conventional impediment which neither your conscience sanctifies -nor your judgment approves?" -He paused for an answer and what was I to say? Oh, for some -good spirit to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response Vain -aspiration The west wind whispered in the ivy round me but no -gentle Ariel borrowed its breath as a medium of speech the birds -sang in the treetops but their song, however sweet, was inarticulate. -Again Mr. Rochester propounded his query -"Is the wandering and sinful, but now restseeking and repentant, -man justified in daring the world's opinion, in order to attach -to him for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby -securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?" -"Sir," I answered, "a wanderer's repose or a sinner's reformation -should never depend on a fellowcreature. Men and women die -philosophers falter in wisdom, and Christians in goodness if any -one you know has suffered and erred, let him look higher than his -equals for strength to amend and solace to heal." -"But the instrument the instrument God, who does the work, -ordains the instrument. I have myself I tell it you without -parable been a worldly, dissipated, restless man and -I believe I have found the instrument for my cure in " -He paused the birds went on carolling, the leaves lightly rustling. -I almost wondered they did not check their songs and whispers to -catch the suspended revelation but they would have had to wait many -minutes so long was the silence protracted. At last I looked -up at the tardy speaker he was looking eagerly at me. -"Little friend," said he, in quite a changed tone while his -face changed too, losing all its softness and gravity, and becoming -harsh and sarcastic "you have noticed my tender penchant for Miss -Ingram don't you think if I married her she would regenerate me -with a vengeance?" -He got up instantly, went quite to the other end of the walk, and -when he came back he was humming a tune. -"Jane, Jane," said he, stopping before me, "you are quite pale with -your vigils don't you curse me for disturbing your rest?" -"Curse you? No, sir." -"Shake hands in confirmation of the word. What cold fingers -They were warmer last night when I touched them at the door of the -mysterious chamber. Jane, when will you watch with me again?" -"Whenever I can be useful, sir." -"For instance, the night before I am married I am sure I shall -not be able to sleep. Will you promise to sit up with me to bear -me company? To you I can talk of my lovely one for now you have -seen her and know her." -"Yes, sir." -"She's a rare one, is she not, Jane?" -"Yes, sir." -"A strapper a real strapper, Jane big, brown, and buxom with -hair just such as the ladies of Carthage must have had. Bless me -there's Dent and Lynn in the stables Go in by the shrubbery, -through that wicket." -As I went one way, he went another, and I heard him in -the yard, saying cheerfully -"Mason got the start of you all this morning he was gone before -sunrise I rose at four to see him off." -CHAPTER XXI -Presentiments are strange things and so are sympathies and so -are signs and the three combined make one mystery to which humanity -has not yet found the key. I never laughed at presentiments in -my life, because I have had strange ones of my own. Sympathies, -I believe, exist for instance, between fardistant, longabsent, -wholly estranged relatives asserting, notwithstanding their -alienation, the unity of the source to which each traces his origin -whose workings baffle mortal comprehension. And signs, for aught -we know, may be but the sympathies of Nature with man. -When I was a little girl, only six years old, I one night heard -Bessie Leaven say to Martha Abbot that she had been dreaming about -a little child and that to dream of children was a sure sign of -trouble, either to one's self or one's kin. The saying might have -worn out of my memory, had not a circumstance immediately followed -which served indelibly to fix it there. The next day Bessie was -sent for home to the deathbed of her little sister. -Of late I had often recalled this saying and this incident for -during the past week scarcely a night had gone over my couch that -had not brought with it a dream of an infant, which I sometimes -hushed in my arms, sometimes dandled on my knee, sometimes watched -playing with daisies on a lawn, or again, dabbling its hands in -running water. It was a wailing child this night, and a laughing -one the next now it nestled close to me, and now it ran from me -but whatever mood the apparition evinced, whatever aspect it wore, -it failed not for seven successive nights to meet me the moment I -entered the land of slumber. -I did not like this iteration of one idea this strange recurrence -of one image, and I grew nervous as bedtime approached and the -hour of the vision drew near. It was from companionship with this -babyphantom I had been roused on that moonlight night when I heard -the cry and it was on the afternoon of the day following I was -summoned downstairs by a message that some one wanted me in Mrs. -Fairfax's room. On repairing thither, I found a man waiting for -me, having the appearance of a gentleman's servant he was dressed -in deep mourning, and the hat he held in his hand was surrounded -with a crape band. -"I daresay you hardly remember me, Miss," he said, rising as I -entered "but my name is Leaven I lived coachman with Mrs. Reed -when you were at Gateshead, eight or nine years since, and I live -there still." -"Oh, Robert how do you do? I remember you very well you used -to give me a ride sometimes on Miss Georgiana's bay pony. And how -is Bessie? You are married to Bessie?" -"Yes, Miss my wife is very hearty, thank you she brought me -another little one about two months since we have three now -and both mother and child are thriving." -"And are the family well at the house, Robert?" -"I am sorry I can't give you better news of them, Miss they are -very badly at present in great trouble." -"I hope no one is dead," I said, glancing at his black dress. He -too looked down at the crape round his hat and replied -"Mr. John died yesterday was a week, at his chambers in London." -"Mr. John?" -"Yes." -"And how does his mother bear it?" -"Why, you see, Miss Eyre, it is not a common mishap his life -has been very wild these last three years he gave himself up to -strange ways, and his death was shocking." -"I heard from Bessie he was not doing well." -"Doing well He could not do worse he ruined his health and -his estate amongst the worst men and the worst women. He got into -debt and into jail his mother helped him out twice, but as soon -as he was free he returned to his old companions and habits. His -head was not strong the knaves he lived amongst fooled him beyond -anything I ever heard. He came down to Gateshead about three weeks -ago and wanted missis to give up all to him. Missis refused her -means have long been much reduced by his extravagance so he went -back again, and the next news was that he was dead. How he died, -God knows they say he killed himself." -I was silent the things were frightful. Robert Leaven resumed -"Missis had been out of health herself for some time she had got -very stout, but was not strong with it and the loss of money and -fear of poverty were quite breaking her down. The information -about Mr. John's death and the manner of it came too suddenly -it brought on a stroke. She was three days without speaking but -last Tuesday she seemed rather better she appeared as if she wanted -to say something, and kept making signs to my wife and mumbling. -It was only yesterday morning, however, that Bessie understood -she was pronouncing your name and at last she made out the words, -'Bring Jane fetch Jane Eyre I want to speak to her.' Bessie -is not sure whether she is in her right mind, or means anything by -the words but she told Miss Reed and Miss Georgiana, and advised -them to send for you. The young ladies put it off at first but -their mother grew so restless, and said, 'Jane, Jane,' so many -times, that at last they consented. I left Gateshead yesterday -and if you can get ready, Miss, I should like to take you back with -me early tomorrow morning." -"Yes, Robert, I shall be ready it seems to me that I ought to -go." -"I think so too, Miss. Bessie said she was sure you would not -refuse but I suppose you will have to ask leave before you can -get off?" -"Yes and I will do it now" and having directed him to the -servants' hall, and recommended him to the care of John's wife, -and the attentions of John himself, I went in search of Mr. Rochester. -He was not in any of the lower rooms he was not in the yard, the -stables, or the grounds. I asked Mrs. Fairfax if she had seen him -yes she believed he was playing billiards with Miss Ingram. -To the billiardroom I hastened the click of balls and the hum -of voices resounded thence Mr. Rochester, Miss Ingram, the two -Misses Eshton, and their admirers, were all busied in the game. It -required some courage to disturb so interesting a party my errand, -however, was one I could not defer, so I approached the master -where he stood at Miss Ingram's side. She turned as I drew near, -and looked at me haughtily her eyes seemed to demand, "What can -the creeping creature want now?" and when I said, in a low voice, -"Mr. Rochester," she made a movement as if tempted to order me away. -I remember her appearance at the moment it was very graceful and -very striking she wore a morning robe of skyblue crape a gauzy -azure scarf was twisted in her hair. She had been all animation -with the game, and irritated pride did not lower the expression of -her haughty lineaments. -"Does that person want you?" she inquired of Mr. Rochester and -Mr. Rochester turned to see who the "person" was. He made a curious -grimace one of his strange and equivocal demonstrations threw -down his cue and followed me from the room. -"Well, Jane?" he said, as he rested his back against the schoolroom -door, which he had shut. -"If you please, sir, I want leave of absence for a week or two." -"What to do? where to go?" -"To see a sick lady who has sent for me." -"What sick lady? where does she live?" -"At Gateshead in shire." -"shire? That is a hundred miles off Who may she be that sends -for people to see her that distance?" -"Her name is Reed, sir Mrs. Reed." -"Reed of Gateshead? There was a Reed of Gateshead, a magistrate." -"It is his widow, sir." -"And what have you to do with her? How do you know her?" -"Mr. Reed was my uncle my mother's brother." -"The deuce he was You never told me that before you always said -you had no relations." -"None that would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and his wife cast -me off." -"Why?" -"Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me." -"But Reed left children? you must have cousins? Sir George -Lynn was talking of a Reed of Gateshead yesterday, who, he said, -was one of the veriest rascals on town and Ingram was mentioning -a Georgiana Reed of the same place, who was much admired for her -beauty a season or two ago in London." -"John Reed is dead, too, sir he ruined himself and halfruined -his family, and is supposed to have committed suicide. The news -so shocked his mother that it brought on an apoplectic attack." -"And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane I would never think -of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, -be dead before you reach her besides, you say she cast you off." -"Yes, sir, but that is long ago and when her circumstances were -very different I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now." -"How long will you stay?" -"As short a time as possible, sir." -"Promise me only to stay a week " -"I had better not pass my word I might be obliged to break it." -"At all events you WILL come back you will not be induced under -any pretext to take up a permanent residence with her?" -"Oh, no I shall certainly return if all be well." -"And who goes with you? You don't travel a hundred miles alone." -"No, sir, she has sent her coachman." -"A person to be trusted?" -"Yes, sir, he has lived ten years in the family." -Mr. Rochester meditated. "When do you wish to go?" -"Early tomorrow morning, sir." -"Well, you must have some money you can't travel without money, -and I daresay you have not much I have given you no salary yet. -How much have you in the world, Jane?" he asked, smiling. -I drew out my purse a meagre thing it was. "Five shillings, sir." -He took the purse, poured the hoard into his palm, and chuckled over -it as if its scantiness amused him. Soon he produced his pocket -book "Here," said he, offering me a note it was fifty pounds, -and he owed me but fifteen. I told him I had no change. -"I don't want change you know that. Take your wages." -I declined accepting more than was my due. He scowled -at first then, as if recollecting something, he said -"Right, right Better not give you all now you would, perhaps, -stay away three months if you had fifty pounds. There are ten is -it not plenty?" -"Yes, sir, but now you owe me five." -"Come back for it, then I am your banker for forty pounds." -"Mr. Rochester, I may as well mention another matter of business -to you while I have the opportunity." -"Matter of business? I am curious to hear it." -"You have as good as informed me, sir, that you are going shortly -to be married?" -"Yes what then?" -"In that case, sir, Adele ought to go to school I am sure you -will perceive the necessity of it." -"To get her out of my bride's way, who might otherwise walk over -her rather too emphatically? There's sense in the suggestion not -a doubt of it. Adele, as you say, must go to school and you, of -course, must march straight to the devil?" -"I hope not, sir but I must seek another situation somewhere." -"In course" he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion -of features equally fantastic and ludicrous. He looked at me some -minutes. -"And old Madam Reed, or the Misses, her daughters, will be solicited -by you to seek a place, I suppose?" -"No, sir I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify -me in asking favours of them but I shall advertise." -"You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt" he growled. "At your -peril you advertise I wish I had only offered you a sovereign -instead of ten pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane I've a use -for it." -"And so have I, sir," I returned, putting my hands and my purse -behind me. "I could not spare the money on any account." -"Little niggard" said he, "refusing me a pecuniary request Give -me five pounds, Jane." -"Not five shillings, sir nor five pence." -"Just let me look at the cash." -"No, sir you are not to be trusted." -"Jane" -"Sir?" -"Promise me one thing." -"I'll promise you anything, sir, that I think I am likely to -perform." -"Not to advertise and to trust this quest of a situation to me. -I'll find you one in time." -"I shall be glad so to do, sir, if you, in your turn, will promise -that I and Adele shall be both safe out of the house before your -bride enters it." -"Very well very well I'll pledge my word on it. You go tomorrow, -then?" -"Yes, sir early." -"Shall you come down to the drawingroom after dinner?" -"No, sir, I must prepare for the journey." -"Then you and I must bid goodbye for a little while?" -"I suppose so, sir." -"And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane? Teach -me I'm not quite up to it." -"They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer." -"Then say it." -"Farewell, Mr. Rochester, for the present." -"What must I say?" -"The same, if you like, sir." -"Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present is that all?" -"Yes?" -"It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I should -like something else a little addition to the rite. If one shook -hands, for instance but no that would not content me either. -So you'll do no more than say Farewell, Jane?" -"It is enough, sir as much goodwill may be conveyed in one hearty -word as in many." -"Very likely but it is blank and cool 'Farewell.'" -"How long is he going to stand with his back against that door?" -I asked myself "I want to commence my packing." The dinnerbell -rang, and suddenly away he bolted, without another syllable I -saw him no more during the day, and was off before he had risen in -the morning. -I reached the lodge at Gateshead about five o'clock in the afternoon -of the first of May I stepped in there before going up to the -hall. It was very clean and neat the ornamental windows were -hung with little white curtains the floor was spotless the grate -and fireirons were burnished bright, and the fire burnt clear. -Bessie sat on the hearth, nursing her lastborn, and Robert and -his sister played quietly in a corner. -"Bless you I knew you would come" exclaimed Mrs. Leaven, as -I entered. -"Yes, Bessie," said I, after I had kissed her "and I trust I am -not too late. How is Mrs. Reed? Alive still, I hope." -"Yes, she is alive and more sensible and collected than she was. -The doctor says she may linger a week or two yet but he hardly -thinks she will finally recover." -"Has she mentioned me lately?" -"She was talking of you only this morning, and wishing you would -come, but she is sleeping now, or was ten minutes ago, when I was -up at the house. She generally lies in a kind of lethargy all the -afternoon, and wakes up about six or seven. Will you rest yourself -here an hour, Miss, and then I will go up with you?" -Robert here entered, and Bessie laid her sleeping child in the -cradle and went to welcome him afterwards she insisted on my taking -off my bonnet and having some tea for she said I looked pale and -tired. I was glad to accept her hospitality and I submitted to -be relieved of my travelling garb just as passively as I used to -let her undress me when a child. -Old times crowded fast back on me as I watched her bustling about -setting out the teatray with her best china, cutting bread and -butter, toasting a teacake, and, between whiles, giving little -Robert or Jane an occasional tap or push, just as she used to give -me in former days. Bessie had retained her quick temper as well -as her light foot and good looks. -Tea ready, I was going to approach the table but she desired me -to sit still, quite in her old peremptory tones. I must be served -at the fireside, she said and she placed before me a little round -stand with my cup and a plate of toast, absolutely as she used to -accommodate me with some privately purloined dainty on a nursery -chair and I smiled and obeyed her as in bygone days. -She wanted to know if I was happy at Thornfield Hall, and what sort -of a person the mistress was and when I told her there was only -a master, whether he was a nice gentleman, and if I liked him. I -told her he was rather an ugly man, but quite a gentleman and -that he treated me kindly, and I was content. Then I went on to -describe to her the gay company that had lately been staying at the -house and to these details Bessie listened with interest they -were precisely of the kind she relished. -In such conversation an hour was soon gone Bessie restored to me -my bonnet, c., and, accompanied by her, I quitted the lodge for -the hall. It was also accompanied by her that I had, nearly nine -years ago, walked down the path I was now ascending. On a dark, -misty, raw morning in January, I had left a hostile roof with a -desperate and embittered heart a sense of outlawry and almost -of reprobation to seek the chilly harbourage of Lowood that -bourne so far away and unexplored. The same hostile roof now again -rose before me my prospects were doubtful yet and I had yet an -aching heart. I still felt as a wanderer on the face of the earth -but I experienced firmer trust in myself and my own powers, and -less withering dread of oppression. The gaping wound of my wrongs, -too, was now quite healed and the flame of resentment extinguished. -"You shall go into the breakfastroom first," said Bessie, as she -preceded me through the hall "the young ladies will be there." -In another moment I was within that apartment. There was every -article of furniture looking just as it did on the morning I was -first introduced to Mr. Brocklehurst the very rug he had stood upon -still covered the hearth. Glancing at the bookcases, I thought I -could distinguish the two volumes of Bewick's British Birds occupying -their old place on the third shelf, and Gulliver's Travels and the -Arabian Nights ranged just above. The inanimate objects were not -changed but the living things had altered past recognition. -Two young ladies appeared before me one very tall, almost as tall -as Miss Ingram very thin too, with a sallow face and severe -mien. There was something ascetic in her look, which was augmented -by the extreme plainness of a straightskirted, black, stuff dress, -a starched linen collar, hair combed away from the temples, and -the nunlike ornament of a string of ebony beads and a crucifix. -This I felt sure was Eliza, though I could trace little resemblance -to her former self in that elongated and colourless visage. -The other was as certainly Georgiana but not the Georgiana -I remembered the slim and fairylike girl of eleven. This was -a fullblown, very plump damsel, fair as waxwork, with handsome -and regular features, languishing blue eyes, and ringleted yellow -hair. The hue of her dress was black too but its fashion was so -different from her sister's so much more flowing and becoming -it looked as stylish as the other's looked puritanical. -In each of the sisters there was one trait of the mother and only -one the thin and pallid elder daughter had her parent's Cairngorm -eye the blooming and luxuriant younger girl had her contour of -jaw and chin perhaps a little softened, but still imparting an -indescribable hardness to the countenance otherwise so voluptuous -and buxom. -Both ladies, as I advanced, rose to welcome me, and both addressed -me by the name of "Miss Eyre." Eliza's greeting was delivered in -a short, abrupt voice, without a smile and then she sat down again, -fixed her eyes on the fire, and seemed to forget me. Georgiana -added to her "How d'ye do?" several commonplaces about my journey, -the weather, and so on, uttered in rather a drawling tone and -accompanied by sundry sideglances that measured me from head to -foot now traversing the folds of my drab merino pelisse, and -now lingering on the plain trimming of my cottage bonnet. Young -ladies have a remarkable way of letting you know that they -think you a "quiz" without actually saying the words. A certain -superciliousness of look, coolness of manner, nonchalance of tone, -express fully their sentiments on the point, without committing -them by any positive rudeness in word or deed. -A sneer, however, whether covert or open, had now no longer that -power over me it once possessed as I sat between my cousins, I -was surprised to find how easy I felt under the total neglect of -the one and the semisarcastic attentions of the other Eliza did -not mortify, nor Georgiana ruffle me. The fact was, I had other -things to think about within the last few months feelings had -been stirred in me so much more potent than any they could raise -pains and pleasures so much more acute and exquisite had been -excited than any it was in their power to inflict or bestow that -their airs gave me no concern either for good or bad. -"How is Mrs. Reed?" I asked soon, looking calmly at Georgiana, -who thought fit to bridle at the direct address, as if it were an -unexpected liberty. -"Mrs. Reed? Ah mama, you mean she is extremely poorly I doubt -if you can see her tonight." -"If," said I, "you would just step upstairs and tell her I am come, -I should be much obliged to you." -Georgiana almost started, and she opened her blue eyes wild and -wide. "I know she had a particular wish to see me," I added, "and -I would not defer attending to her desire longer than is absolutely -necessary." -"Mama dislikes being disturbed in an evening," remarked Eliza. I -soon rose, quietly took off my bonnet and gloves, uninvited, and -said I would just step out to Bessie who was, I dared say, in the -kitchen and ask her to ascertain whether Mrs. Reed was disposed -to receive me or not tonight. I went, and having found Bessie and -despatched her on my errand, I proceeded to take further measures. -It had heretofore been my habit always to shrink from arrogance -received as I had been today, I should, a year ago, have resolved -to quit Gateshead the very next morning now, it was disclosed -to me all at once that that would be a foolish plan. I had taken -a journey of a hundred miles to see my aunt, and I must stay with -her till she was better or dead as to her daughters' pride or -folly, I must put it on one side, make myself independent of it. -So I addressed the housekeeper asked her to show me a room, told -her I should probably be a visitor here for a week or two, had my -trunk conveyed to my chamber, and followed it thither myself I -met Bessie on the landing. -"Missis is awake," said she "I have told her you are here come -and let us see if she will know you." -I did not need to be guided to the wellknown room, to which I -had so often been summoned for chastisement or reprimand in former -days. I hastened before Bessie I softly opened the door a shaded -light stood on the table, for it was now getting dark. There was -the great fourpost bed with amber hangings as of old there the -toilettable, the armchair, and the footstool, at which I had a -hundred times been sentenced to kneel, to ask pardon for offences -by me uncommitted. I looked into a certain corner near, halfexpecting -to see the slim outline of a once dreaded switch which used to lurk -there, waiting to leap out implike and lace my quivering palm or -shrinking neck. I approached the bed I opened the curtains and -leant over the highpiled pillows. -Well did I remember Mrs. Reed's face, and I eagerly sought the -familiar image. It is a happy thing that time quells the longings -of vengeance and hushes the promptings of rage and aversion. I had -left this woman in bitterness and hate, and I came back to her now -with no other emotion than a sort of ruth for her great sufferings, -and a strong yearning to forget and forgive all injuries to be -reconciled and clasp hands in amity. -The wellknown face was there stern, relentless as ever there -was that peculiar eye which nothing could melt, and the somewhat -raised, imperious, despotic eyebrow. How often had it lowered on me -menace and hate and how the recollection of childhood's terrors -and sorrows revived as I traced its harsh line now And yet I -stooped down and kissed her she looked at me. -"Is this Jane Eyre?" she said. -"Yes, Aunt Reed. How are you, dear aunt?" -I had once vowed that I would never call her aunt again I thought -it no sin to forget and break that vow now. My fingers had fastened -on her hand which lay outside the sheet had she pressed mine -kindly, I should at that moment have experienced true pleasure. But -unimpressionable natures are not so soon softened, nor are natural -antipathies so readily eradicated. Mrs. Reed took her hand away, -and, turning her face rather from me, she remarked that the night -was warm. Again she regarded me so icily, I felt at once that -her opinion of me her feeling towards me was unchanged and -unchangeable. I knew by her stony eye opaque to tenderness, -indissoluble to tears that she was resolved to consider me bad -to the last because to believe me good would give her no generous -pleasure only a sense of mortification. -I felt pain, and then I felt ire and then I felt a determination -to subdue her to be her mistress in spite both of her nature -and her will. My tears had risen, just as in childhood I ordered -them back to their source. I brought a chair to the bedhead I -sat down and leaned over the pillow. -"You sent for me," I said, "and I am here and it is my intention -to stay till I see how you get on." -"Oh, of course You have seen my daughters?" -"Yes." -"Well, you may tell them I wish you to stay till I can talk some -things over with you I have on my mind tonight it is too late, and -I have a difficulty in recalling them. But there was something -I wished to say let me see " -The wandering look and changed utterance told what wreck had taken -place in her once vigorous frame. Turning restlessly, she drew the -bedclothes round her my elbow, resting on a corner of the quilt, -fixed it down she was at once irritated. -"Sit up" said she "don't annoy me with holding the clothes fast. -Are you Jane Eyre?" -"I am Jane Eyre." -"I have had more trouble with that child than any one would believe. -Such a burden to be left on my hands and so much annoyance as she -caused me, daily and hourly, with her incomprehensible disposition, -and her sudden starts of temper, and her continual, unnatural -watchings of one's movements I declare she talked to me once like -something mad, or like a fiend no child ever spoke or looked as -she did I was glad to get her away from the house. What did they -do with her at Lowood? The fever broke out there, and many of the -pupils died. She, however, did not die but I said she did I -wish she had died" -"A strange wish, Mrs. Reed why do you hate her so?" -"I had a dislike to her mother always for she was my husband's only -sister, and a great favourite with him he opposed the family's -disowning her when she made her low marriage and when news came of -her death, he wept like a simpleton. He would send for the baby -though I entreated him rather to put it out to nurse and pay for -its maintenance. I hated it the first time I set my eyes on it -a sickly, whining, pining thing It would wail in its cradle all -night long not screaming heartily like any other child, but -whimpering and moaning. Reed pitied it and he used to nurse it -and notice it as if it had been his own more, indeed, than he -ever noticed his own at that age. He would try to make my children -friendly to the little beggar the darlings could not bear it, -and he was angry with them when they showed their dislike. In his -last illness, he had it brought continually to his bedside and but -an hour before he died, he bound me by vow to keep the creature. -I would as soon have been charged with a pauper brat out of a -workhouse but he was weak, naturally weak. John does not at all -resemble his father, and I am glad of it John is like me and like -my brothers he is quite a Gibson. Oh, I wish he would cease -tormenting me with letters for money? I have no more money to give -him we are getting poor. I must send away half the servants and -shut up part of the house or let it off. I can never submit to -do that yet how are we to get on? Twothirds of my income goes -in paying the interest of mortgages. John gambles dreadfully, and -always loses poor boy He is beset by sharpers John is sunk -and degraded his look is frightful I feel ashamed for him -when I see him." -She was getting much excited. "I think I had better leave her -now," said I to Bessie, who stood on the other side of the bed. -"Perhaps you had, Miss but she often talks in this way towards -night in the morning she is calmer." -I rose. "Stop" exclaimed Mrs. Reed, "there is another thing -I wished to say. He threatens me he continually threatens me -with his own death, or mine and I dream sometimes that I see him -laid out with a great wound in his throat, or with a swollen and -blackened face. I am come to a strange pass I have heavy troubles. -What is to be done? How is the money to be had?" -Bessie now endeavoured to persuade her to take a sedative draught -she succeeded with difficulty. Soon after, Mrs. Reed grew more -composed, and sank into a dozing state. I then left her. -More than ten days elapsed before I had again any conversation with -her. She continued either delirious or lethargic and the doctor -forbade everything which could painfully excite her. Meantime, -I got on as well as I could with Georgiana and Eliza. They were -very cold, indeed, at first. Eliza would sit half the day sewing, -reading, or writing, and scarcely utter a word either to me or her -sister. Georgiana would chatter nonsense to her canary bird by the -hour, and take no notice of me. But I was determined not to seem -at a loss for occupation or amusement I had brought my drawing -materials with me, and they served me for both. -Provided with a case of pencils, and some sheets of paper, I used -to take a seat apart from them, near the window, and busy myself -in sketching fancy vignettes, representing any scene that happened -momentarily to shape itself in the evershifting kaleidoscope of -imagination a glimpse of sea between two rocks the rising moon, -and a ship crossing its disk a group of reeds and waterflags, and -a naiad's head, crowned with lotusflowers, rising out of them an -elf sitting in a hedgesparrow's nest, under a wreath of hawthornbloom. -One morning I fell to sketching a face what sort of a face it was -to be, I did not care or know. I took a soft black pencil, gave -it a broad point, and worked away. Soon I had traced on the paper -a broad and prominent forehead and a square lower outline of visage -that contour gave me pleasure my fingers proceeded actively to -fill it with features. Stronglymarked horizontal eyebrows must -be traced under that brow then followed, naturally, a welldefined -nose, with a straight ridge and full nostrils then a flexible -looking mouth, by no means narrow then a firm chin, with a decided -cleft down the middle of it of course, some black whiskers were -wanted, and some jetty hair, tufted on the temples, and waved above -the forehead. Now for the eyes I had left them to the last, -because they required the most careful working. I drew them -large I shaped them well the eyelashes I traced long and sombre -the irids lustrous and large. "Good but not quite the thing," -I thought, as I surveyed the effect "they want more force and -spirit" and I wrought the shades blacker, that the lights might -flash more brilliantly a happy touch or two secured success. -There, I had a friend's face under my gaze and what did it signify -that those young ladies turned their backs on me? I looked at it -I smiled at the speaking likeness I was absorbed and content. -"Is that a portrait of some one you know?" asked Eliza, who had -approached me unnoticed. I responded that it was merely a fancy -head, and hurried it beneath the other sheets. Of course, I lied -it was, in fact, a very faithful representation of Mr. Rochester. -But what was that to her, or to any one but myself? Georgiana -also advanced to look. The other drawings pleased her much, but -she called that "an ugly man." They both seemed surprised at my -skill. I offered to sketch their portraits and each, in turn, -sat for a pencil outline. Then Georgiana produced her album. I -promised to contribute a watercolour drawing this put her at once -into good humour. She proposed a walk in the grounds. Before we -had been out two hours, we were deep in a confidential conversation -she had favoured me with a description of the brilliant winter she -had spent in London two seasons ago of the admiration she had -there excited the attention she had received and I even got -hints of the titled conquest she had made. In the course of the -afternoon and evening these hints were enlarged on various soft -conversations were reported, and sentimental scenes represented -and, in short, a volume of a novel of fashionable life was that day -improvised by her for my benefit. The communications were renewed -from day to day they always ran on the same theme herself, her -loves, and woes. It was strange she never once adverted either to -her mother's illness, or her brother's death, or the present gloomy -state of the family prospects. Her mind seemed wholly taken up with -reminiscences of past gaiety, and aspirations after dissipations -to come. She passed about five minutes each day in her mother's -sickroom, and no more. -Eliza still spoke little she had evidently no time to talk. I -never saw a busier person than she seemed to be yet it was -difficult to say what she did or rather, to discover any result -of her diligence. She had an alarm to call her up early. I know -not how she occupied herself before breakfast, but after that meal -she divided her time into regular portions, and each hour had its -allotted task. Three times a day she studied a little book, which -I found, on inspection, was a Common Prayer Book. I asked her once -what was the great attraction of that volume, and she said, "the -Rubric." Three hours she gave to stitching, with gold thread, -the border of a square crimson cloth, almost large enough for a -carpet. In answer to my inquiries after the use of this article, -she informed me it was a covering for the altar of a new church -lately erected near Gateshead. Two hours she devoted to her diary -two to working by herself in the kitchengarden and one to the -regulation of her accounts. She seemed to want no company no -conversation. I believe she was happy in her way this routine -sufficed for her and nothing annoyed her so much as the occurrence -of any incident which forced her to vary its clockwork regularity. -She told me one evening, when more disposed to be communicative -than usual, that John's conduct, and the threatened ruin of the -family, had been a source of profound affliction to her but she -had now, she said, settled her mind, and formed her resolution. -Her own fortune she had taken care to secure and when her mother -died and it was wholly improbable, she tranquilly remarked, -that she should either recover or linger long she would execute -a longcherished project seek a retirement where punctual habits -would be permanently secured from disturbance, and place safe barriers -between herself and a frivolous world. I asked if Georgiana would -accompany her. -"Of course not. Georgiana and she had nothing in common they -never had had. She would not be burdened with her society for -any consideration. Georgiana should take her own course and she, -Eliza, would take hers." -Georgiana, when not unburdening her heart to me, spent most of her -time in lying on the sofa, fretting about the dulness of the house, -and wishing over and over again that her aunt Gibson would send -her an invitation up to town. "It would be so much better," she -said, "if she could only get out of the way for a month or two, till -all was over." I did not ask what she meant by "all being over," -but I suppose she referred to the expected decease of her mother -and the gloomy sequel of funeral rites. Eliza generally took no -more notice of her sister's indolence and complaints than if no such -murmuring, lounging object had been before her. One day, however, -as she put away her accountbook and unfolded her embroidery, -she suddenly took her up thus -"Georgiana, a more vain and absurd animal than you was certainly -never allowed to cumber the earth. You had no right to be born, -for you make no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with -yourself, as a reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten -your feebleness on some other person's strength if no one can be -found willing to burden her or himself with such a fat, weak, puffy, -useless thing, you cry out that you are illtreated, neglected, -miserable. Then, too, existence for you must be a scene of continual -change and excitement, or else the world is a dungeon you must -be admired, you must be courted, you must be flattered you must -have music, dancing, and society or you languish, you die away. -Have you no sense to devise a system which will make you independent -of all efforts, and all wills, but your own? Take one day share -it into sections to each section apportion its task leave no -stray unemployed quarters of an hour, ten minutes, five minutes -include all do each piece of business in its turn with method, -with rigid regularity. The day will close almost before you are -aware it has begun and you are indebted to no one for helping you -to get rid of one vacant moment you have had to seek no one's -company, conversation, sympathy, forbearance you have lived, -in short, as an independent being ought to do. Take this advice -the first and last I shall offer you then you will not want me or -any one else, happen what may. Neglect it go on as heretofore, -craving, whining, and idling and suffer the results of your -idiocy, however bad and insuperable they may be. I tell you this -plainly and listen for though I shall no more repeat what I am -now about to say, I shall steadily act on it. After my mother's -death, I wash my hands of you from the day her coffin is carried -to the vault in Gateshead Church, you and I will be as separate as -if we had never known each other. You need not think that because -we chanced to be born of the same parents, I shall suffer you to -fasten me down by even the feeblest claim I can tell you this -if the whole human race, ourselves excepted, were swept away, and -we two stood alone on the earth, I would leave you in the old world, -and betake myself to the new." -She closed her lips. -"You might have spared yourself the trouble of delivering that -tirade," answered Georgiana. "Everybody knows you are the most -selfish, heartless creature in existence and I know your spiteful -hatred towards me I have had a specimen of it before in the -trick you played me about Lord Edwin Vere you could not bear me -to be raised above you, to have a title, to be received into circles -where you dare not show your face, and so you acted the spy and -informer, and ruined my prospects for ever." Georgiana took out -her handkerchief and blew her nose for an hour afterwards Eliza -sat cold, impassable, and assiduously industrious. -True, generous feeling is made small account of by some, but here -were two natures rendered, the one intolerably acrid, the other -despicably savourless for the want of it. Feeling without judgment -is a washy draught indeed but judgment untempered by feeling is -too bitter and husky a morsel for human deglutition. -It was a wet and windy afternoon Georgiana had fallen asleep on -the sofa over the perusal of a novel Eliza was gone to attend a -saint'sday service at the new church for in matters of religion -she was a rigid formalist no weather ever prevented the punctual -discharge of what she considered her devotional duties fair or foul, -she went to church thrice every Sunday, and as often on weekdays -as there were prayers. -I bethought myself to go upstairs and see how the dying woman sped, -who lay there almost unheeded the very servants paid her but a -remittent attention the hired nurse, being little looked after, -would slip out of the room whenever she could. Bessie was faithful -but she had her own family to mind, and could only come occasionally -to the hall. I found the sickroom unwatched, as I had expected -no nurse was there the patient lay still, and seemingly lethargic -her livid face sunk in the pillows the fire was dying in the -grate. I renewed the fuel, rearranged the bedclothes, gazed awhile -on her who could not now gaze on me, and then I moved away to the -window. -The rain beat strongly against the panes, the wind blew tempestuously -"One lies there," I thought, "who will soon be beyond the war of -earthly elements. Whither will that spirit now struggling to -quit its material tenement flit when at length released?" -In pondering the great mystery, I thought of Helen Burns, recalled -her dying words her faith her doctrine of the equality -of disembodied souls. I was still listening in thought to her -wellremembered tones still picturing her pale and spiritual -aspect, her wasted face and sublime gaze, as she lay on her placid -deathbed, and whispered her longing to be restored to her divine -Father's bosom when a feeble voice murmured from the couch -behind "Who is that?" -I knew Mrs. Reed had not spoken for days was she reviving? I -went up to her. -"It is I, Aunt Reed." -"Who I?" was her answer. "Who are you?" looking at me with -surprise and a sort of alarm, but still not wildly. "You are quite -a stranger to me where is Bessie?" -"She is at the lodge, aunt." -"Aunt," she repeated. "Who calls me aunt? You are not one of the -Gibsons and yet I know you that face, and the eyes and forehead, -are quiet familiar to me you are like why, you are like Jane -Eyre" -I said nothing I was afraid of occasioning some shock by declaring -my identity. -"Yet," said she, "I am afraid it is a mistake my thoughts deceive -me. I wished to see Jane Eyre, and I fancy a likeness where none -exists besides, in eight years she must be so changed." I now -gently assured her that I was the person she supposed and desired -me to be and seeing that I was understood, and that her senses -were quite collected, I explained how Bessie had sent her husband -to fetch me from Thornfield. -"I am very ill, I know," she said ere long. "I was trying to turn -myself a few minutes since, and find I cannot move a limb. It is -as well I should ease my mind before I die what we think little -of in health, burdens us at such an hour as the present is to me. -Is the nurse here? or is there no one in the room but you?" -I assured her we were alone. -"Well, I have twice done you a wrong which I regret now. One was -in breaking the promise which I gave my husband to bring you up as -my own child the other " she stopped. "After all, it is of no -great importance, perhaps," she murmured to herself "and then I -may get better and to humble myself so to her is painful." -She made an effort to alter her position, but failed her face -changed she seemed to experience some inward sensation the -precursor, perhaps, of the last pang. -"Well, I must get it over. Eternity is before me I had better -tell her. Go to my dressingcase, open it, and take out a letter -you will see there." -I obeyed her directions. "Read the letter," she said. -It was short, and thus conceived -"Madam, Will you have the goodness to send me the address of my -niece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is? It is my intention to -write shortly and desire her to come to me at Madeira. Providence -has blessed my endeavours to secure a competency and as I am -unmarried and childless, I wish to adopt her during my life, and -bequeath her at my death whatever I may have to leave. I am, -Madam, c., c., -"JOHN EYRE, Madeira." -It was dated three years back. -"Why did I never hear of this?" I asked. -"Because I disliked you too fixedly and thoroughly ever to lend a -hand in lifting you to prosperity. I could not forget your conduct -to me, Jane the fury with which you once turned on me the tone -in which you declared you abhorred me the worst of anybody in the -world the unchildlike look and voice with which you affirmed that -the very thought of me made you sick, and asserted that I had treated -you with miserable cruelty. I could not forget my own sensations -when you thus started up and poured out the venom of your mind I -felt fear as if an animal that I had struck or pushed had looked -up at me with human eyes and cursed me in a man's voice. Bring -me some water Oh, make haste" -"Dear Mrs. Reed," said I, as I offered her the draught she -required, "think no more of all this, let it pass away from your -mind. Forgive me for my passionate language I was a child then -eight, nine years have passed since that day." -She heeded nothing of what I said but when she had tasted -the water and drawn breath, she went on thus -"I tell you I could not forget it and I took my revenge for -you to be adopted by your uncle, and placed in a state of ease -and comfort, was what I could not endure. I wrote to him I said -I was sorry for his disappointment, but Jane Eyre was dead she -had died of typhus fever at Lowood. Now act as you please write -and contradict my assertion expose my falsehood as soon as you -like. You were born, I think, to be my torment my last hour is -racked by the recollection of a deed which, but for you, I should -never have been tempted to commit." -"If you could but be persuaded to think no more of it, aunt, and -to regard me with kindness and forgiveness" -"You have a very bad disposition," said she, "and one to this day -I feel it impossible to understand how for nine years you could -be patient and quiescent under any treatment, and in the tenth -break out all fire and violence, I can never comprehend." -"My disposition is not so bad as you think I am passionate, but -not vindictive. Many a time, as a little child, I should have been -glad to love you if you would have let me and I long earnestly to -be reconciled to you now kiss me, aunt." -I approached my cheek to her lips she would not touch it. She -said I oppressed her by leaning over the bed, and again demanded -water. As I laid her down for I raised her and supported her -on my arm while she drank I covered her icecold and clammy hand -with mine the feeble fingers shrank from my touch the glazing -eyes shunned my gaze. -"Love me, then, or hate me, as you will," I said at last, "you have -my full and free forgiveness ask now for God's, and be at peace." -Poor, suffering woman it was too late for her to make now the -effort to change her habitual frame of mind living, she had ever -hated me dying, she must hate me still. -The nurse now entered, and Bessie followed. I yet lingered -halfanhour longer, hoping to see some sign of amity but she -gave none. She was fast relapsing into stupor nor did her mind -again rally at twelve o'clock that night she died. I was not -present to close her eyes, nor were either of her daughters. They -came to tell us the next morning that all was over. She was by -that time laid out. Eliza and I went to look at her Georgiana, -who had burst out into loud weeping, said she dared not go. There -was stretched Sarah Reed's once robust and active frame, rigid and -still her eye of flint was covered with its cold lid her brow -and strong traits wore yet the impress of her inexorable soul. -A strange and solemn object was that corpse to me. I gazed on it -with gloom and pain nothing soft, nothing sweet, nothing pitying, -or hopeful, or subduing did it inspire only a grating anguish -for HER woes not MY loss and a sombre tearless dismay at the -fearfulness of death in such a form. -Eliza surveyed her parent calmly. After a silence of some -minutes she observed -"With her constitution she should have lived to a good old age -her life was shortened by trouble." And then a spasm constricted -her mouth for an instant as it passed away she turned and left -the room, and so did I. Neither of us had dropt a tear. -CHAPTER XXII -Mr. Rochester had given me but one week's leave of absence yet -a month elapsed before I quitted Gateshead. I wished to leave -immediately after the funeral, but Georgiana entreated me to stay -till she could get off to London, whither she was now at last -invited by her uncle, Mr. Gibson, who had come down to direct his -sister's interment and settle the family affairs. Georgiana said -she dreaded being left alone with Eliza from her she got neither -sympathy in her dejection, support in her fears, nor aid in her -preparations so I bore with her feebleminded wailings and selfish -lamentations as well as I could, and did my best in sewing for -her and packing her dresses. It is true, that while I worked, she -would idle and I thought to myself, "If you and I were destined -to live always together, cousin, we would commence matters on a -different footing. I should not settle tamely down into being the -forbearing party I should assign you your share of labour, and -compel you to accomplish it, or else it should be left undone I -should insist, also, on your keeping some of those drawling, -halfinsincere complaints hushed in your own breast. It is only -because our connection happens to be very transitory, and comes at -a peculiarly mournful season, that I consent thus to render it so -patient and compliant on my part." -At last I saw Georgiana off but now it was Eliza's turn to -request me to stay another week. Her plans required all her time -and attention, she said she was about to depart for some unknown -bourne and all day long she stayed in her own room, her door -bolted within, filling trunks, emptying drawers, burning papers, -and holding no communication with any one. She wished me to look -after the house, to see callers, and answer notes of condolence. -One morning she told me I was at liberty. "And," she added, "I -am obliged to you for your valuable services and discreet conduct -There is some difference between living with such an one as you -and with Georgiana you perform your own part in life and burden -no one. Tomorrow," she continued, "I set out for the Continent. -I shall take up my abode in a religious house near Lisle a -nunnery you would call it there I shall be quiet and unmolested. -I shall devote myself for a time to the examination of the Roman -Catholic dogmas, and to a careful study of the workings of their -system if I find it to be, as I half suspect it is, the one best -calculated to ensure the doing of all things decently and in order, -I shall embrace the tenets of Rome and probably take the veil." -I neither expressed surprise at this resolution nor attempted to -dissuade her from it. "The vocation will fit you to a hair," I -thought "much good may it do you" -When we parted, she said "Goodbye, cousin Jane Eyre I wish you -well you have some sense." -I then returned "You are not without sense, cousin Eliza but -what you have, I suppose, in another year will be walled up alive -in a French convent. However, it is not my business, and so it -suits you, I don't much care." -"You are in the right," said she and with these words we each went -our separate way. As I shall not have occasion to refer either to -her or her sister again, I may as well mention here, that Georgiana -made an advantageous match with a wealthy wornout man of fashion, -and that Eliza actually took the veil, and is at this day superior -of the convent where she passed the period of her novitiate, and -which she endowed with her fortune. -How people feel when they are returning home from an absence, long -or short, I did not know I had never experienced the sensation. -I had known what it was to come back to Gateshead when a child after -a long walk, to be scolded for looking cold or gloomy and later, -what it was to come back from church to Lowood, to long for -a plenteous meal and a good fire, and to be unable to get either. -Neither of these returnings was very pleasant or desirable no -magnet drew me to a given point, increasing in its strength of -attraction the nearer I came. The return to Thornfield was yet to -be tried. -My journey seemed tedious very tedious fifty miles one day, a -night spent at an inn fifty miles the next day. During the first -twelve hours I thought of Mrs. Reed in her last moments I saw her -disfigured and discoloured face, and heard her strangely altered -voice. I mused on the funeral day, the coffin, the hearse, the black -train of tenants and servants few was the number of relatives -the gaping vault, the silent church, the solemn service. Then -I thought of Eliza and Georgiana I beheld one the cynosure of a -ballroom, the other the inmate of a convent cell and I dwelt on -and analysed their separate peculiarities of person and character. -The evening arrival at the great town of scattered these thoughts -night gave them quite another turn laid down on my traveller's -bed, I left reminiscence for anticipation. -I was going back to Thornfield but how long was I to stay there? -Not long of that I was sure. I had heard from Mrs. Fairfax in -the interim of my absence the party at the hall was dispersed -Mr. Rochester had left for London three weeks ago, but he was then -expected to return in a fortnight. Mrs. Fairfax surmised that he -was gone to make arrangements for his wedding, as he had talked of -purchasing a new carriage she said the idea of his marrying Miss -Ingram still seemed strange to her but from what everybody said, -and from what she had herself seen, she could no longer doubt -that the event would shortly take place. "You would be strangely -incredulous if you did doubt it," was my mental comment. "I don't -doubt it." -The question followed, "Where was I to go?" I dreamt of Miss -Ingram all the night in a vivid morning dream I saw her closing -the gates of Thornfield against me and pointing me out another -road and Mr. Rochester looked on with his arms folded smiling -sardonically, as it seemed, at both her and me. -I had not notified to Mrs. Fairfax the exact day of my return for -I did not wish either car or carriage to meet me at Millcote. I -proposed to walk the distance quietly by myself and very quietly, -after leaving my box in the ostler's care, did I slip away from -the George Inn, about six o'clock of a June evening, and take the -old road to Thornfield a road which lay chiefly through fields, -and was now little frequented. -It was not a bright or splendid summer evening, though fair and soft -the haymakers were at work all along the road and the sky, though -far from cloudless, was such as promised well for the future its -blue where blue was visible was mild and settled, and its -cloud strata high and thin. The west, too, was warm no watery -gleam chilled it it seemed as if there was a fire lit, an altar -burning behind its screen of marbled vapour, and out of apertures -shone a golden redness. -I felt glad as the road shortened before me so glad that I stopped -once to ask myself what that joy meant and to remind reason that -it was not to my home I was going, or to a permanent restingplace, -or to a place where fond friends looked out for me and waited my -arrival. "Mrs. Fairfax will smile you a calm welcome, to be sure," -said I "and little Adele will clap her hands and jump to see you -but you know very well you are thinking of another than they, and -that he is not thinking of you." -But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience? -These affirmed that it was pleasure enough to have the privilege -of again looking on Mr. Rochester, whether he looked on me or not -and they added "Hasten hasten be with him while you may -but a few more days or weeks, at most, and you are parted from him -for ever" And then I strangled a newborn agony a deformed -thing which I could not persuade myself to own and rear and ran -on. -They are making hay, too, in Thornfield meadows or rather, the -labourers are just quitting their work, and returning home with -their rakes on their shoulders, now, at the hour I arrive. I have -but a field or two to traverse, and then I shall cross the road and -reach the gates. How full the hedges are of roses But I have no -time to gather any I want to be at the house. I passed a tall -briar, shooting leafy and flowery branches across the path I -see the narrow stile with stone steps and I see Mr. Rochester -sitting there, a book and a pencil in his hand he is writing. -Well, he is not a ghost yet every nerve I have is unstrung for -a moment I am beyond my own mastery. What does it mean? I did -not think I should tremble in this way when I saw him, or lose my -voice or the power of motion in his presence. I will go back as -soon as I can stir I need not make an absolute fool of myself. -I know another way to the house. It does not signify if I knew -twenty ways for he has seen me. -"Hillo" he cries and he puts up his book and his pencil. "There -you are Come on, if you please." -I suppose I do come on though in what fashion I know not being -scarcely cognisant of my movements, and solicitous only to appear -calm and, above all, to control the working muscles of my face -which I feel rebel insolently against my will, and struggle to -express what I had resolved to conceal. But I have a veil it -is down I may make shift yet to behave with decent composure. -"And this is Jane Eyre? Are you coming from Millcote, and on foot? -Yes just one of your tricks not to send for a carriage, and -come clattering over street and road like a common mortal, but to -steal into the vicinage of your home along with twilight, just as -if you were a dream or a shade. What the deuce have you done with -yourself this last month?" -"I have been with my aunt, sir, who is dead." -"A true Janian reply Good angels be my guard She comes from the -other world from the abode of people who are dead and tells me -so when she meets me alone here in the gloaming If I dared, I'd -touch you, to see if you are substance or shadow, you elf but -I'd as soon offer to take hold of a blue ignis fatuus light in a -marsh. Truant truant" he added, when he had paused an instant. -"Absent from me a whole month, and forgetting me quite, I'll be -sworn" -I knew there would be pleasure in meeting my master again, even -though broken by the fear that he was so soon to cease to be my -master, and by the knowledge that I was nothing to him but there -was ever in Mr. Rochester so at least I thought such a wealth -of the power of communicating happiness, that to taste but of the -crumbs he scattered to stray and stranger birds like me, was to -feast genially. His last words were balm they seemed to imply -that it imported something to him whether I forgot him or not. -And he had spoken of Thornfield as my home would that it were -my home -He did not leave the stile, and I hardly liked to ask to go by. I -inquired soon if he had not been to London. -"Yes I suppose you found that out by secondsight." -"Mrs. Fairfax told me in a letter." -"And did she inform you what I went to do?" -"Oh, yes, sir Everybody knew your errand." -"You must see the carriage, Jane, and tell me if you don't think it -will suit Mrs. Rochester exactly and whether she won't look like -Queen Boadicea, leaning back against those purple cushions. I wish, -Jane, I were a trifle better adapted to match with her externally. -Tell me now, fairy as you are can't you give me a charm, or a -philter, or something of that sort, to make me a handsome man?" -"It would be past the power of magic, sir" and, in thought, I added, -"A loving eye is all the charm needed to such you are handsome -enough or rather your sternness has a power beyond beauty." -Mr. Rochester had sometimes read my unspoken thoughts with an acumen -to me incomprehensible in the present instance he took no notice -of my abrupt vocal response but he smiled at me with a certain -smile he had of his own, and which he used but on rare occasions. -He seemed to think it too good for common purposes it was the -real sunshine of feeling he shed it over me now. -"Pass, Janet," said he, making room for me to cross the stile "go -up home, and stay your weary little wandering feet at a friend's -threshold." -All I had now to do was to obey him in silence no need for me -to colloquise further. I got over the stile without a word, and -meant to leave him calmly. An impulse held me fast a force turned -me round. I said or something in me said for me, and in spite of me -"Thank you, Mr. Rochester, for your great kindness. I am strangely -glad to get back again to you and wherever you are is my home -my only home." -I walked on so fast that even he could hardly have overtaken me -had he tried. Little Adele was half wild with delight when she saw -me. Mrs. Fairfax received me with her usual plain friendliness. -Leah smiled, and even Sophie bid me "bon soir" with glee. This -was very pleasant there is no happiness like that of being loved -by your fellowcreatures, and feeling that your presence is an -addition to their comfort. -I that evening shut my eyes resolutely against the future I stopped -my cars against the voice that kept warning me of near separation -and coming grief. When tea was over and Mrs. Fairfax had taken -her knitting, and I had assumed a low seat near her, and Adele, -kneeling on the carpet, had nestled close up to me, and a sense of -mutual affection seemed to surround us with a ring of golden peace, -I uttered a silent prayer that we might not be parted far or soon -but when, as we thus sat, Mr. Rochester entered, unannounced, and -looking at us, seemed to take pleasure in the spectacle of a group -so amicable when he said he supposed the old lady was all right -now that she had got her adopted daughter back again, and added -that he saw Adele was "prete e croquer sa petite maman Anglaise" -I half ventured to hope that he would, even after his marriage, -keep us together somewhere under the shelter of his protection, -and not quite exiled from the sunshine of his presence. -A fortnight of dubious calm succeeded my return to Thornfield Hall. -Nothing was said of the master's marriage, and I saw no preparation -going on for such an event. Almost every day I asked Mrs. Fairfax -if she had yet heard anything decided her answer was always in -the negative. Once she said she had actually put the question to -Mr. Rochester as to when he was going to bring his bride home but -he had answered her only by a joke and one of his queer looks, and -she could not tell what to make of him. -One thing specially surprised me, and that was, there were no -journeyings backward and forward, no visits to Ingram Park to -be sure it was twenty miles off, on the borders of another county -but what was that distance to an ardent lover? To so practised -and indefatigable a horseman as Mr. Rochester, it would be but a -morning's ride. I began to cherish hopes I had no right to conceive -that the match was broken off that rumour had been mistaken that -one or both parties had changed their minds. I used to look at -my master's face to see if it were sad or fierce but I could not -remember the time when it had been so uniformly clear of clouds or -evil feelings. If, in the moments I and my pupil spent with him, I -lacked spirits and sank into inevitable dejection, he became even -gay. Never had he called me more frequently to his presence never -been kinder to me when there and, alas never had I loved him -so well. -CHAPTER XXIII -A splendid Midsummer shone over England skies so pure, suns so -radiant as were then seen in long succession, seldom favour even -singly, our wavegirt land. It was as if a band of Italian days -had come from the South, like a flock of glorious passenger birds, -and lighted to rest them on the cliffs of Albion. The hay was -all got in the fields round Thornfield were green and shorn the -roads white and baked the trees were in their dark prime hedge -and wood, fullleaved and deeply tinted, contrasted well with the -sunny hue of the cleared meadows between. -On Midsummereve, Adele, weary with gathering wild strawberries -in Hay Lane half the day, had gone to bed with the sun. I watched -her drop asleep, and when I left her, I sought the garden. -It was now the sweetest hour of the twentyfour "Day its fervid -fires had wasted," and dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched -summit. Where the sun had gone down in simple state pure of the -pomp of clouds spread a solemn purple, burning with the light -of red jewel and furnace flame at one point, on one hillpeak, and -extending high and wide, soft and still softer, over half heaven. -The east had its own charm or fine deep blue, and its own modest -gem, a casino and solitary star soon it would boast the moon -but she was yet beneath the horizon. -I walked a while on the pavement but a subtle, wellknown scent -that of a cigar stole from some window I saw the library -casement open a handbreadth I knew I might be watched thence so -I went apart into the orchard. No nook in the grounds more sheltered -and more Edenlike it was full of trees, it bloomed with flowers -a very high wall shut it out from the court, on one side on the -other, a beech avenue screened it from the lawn. At the bottom was -a sunk fence its sole separation from lonely fields a winding -walk, bordered with laurels and terminating in a giant horsechestnut, -circled at the base by a seat, led down to the fence. Here one could -wander unseen. While such honeydew fell, such silence reigned, -such gloaming gathered, I felt as if I could haunt such shade for -ever but in threading the flower and fruit parterres at the upper -part of the enclosure, enticed there by the light the now rising -moon cast on this more open quarter, my step is stayed not by -sound, not by sight, but once more by a warning fragrance. -Sweetbriar and southernwood, jasmine, pink, and rose have long -been yielding their evening sacrifice of incense this new scent -is neither of shrub nor flower it is I know it well it is -Mr. Rochester's cigar. I look round and I listen. I see trees -laden with ripening fruit. I hear a nightingale warbling in a wood -half a mile off no moving form is visible, no coming step audible -but that perfume increases I must flee. I make for the wicket -leading to the shrubbery, and I see Mr. Rochester entering. I step -aside into the ivy recess he will not stay long he will soon -return whence he came, and if I sit still he will never see me. -But no eventide is as pleasant to him as to me, and this antique -garden as attractive and he strolls on, now lifting the gooseberry -tree branches to look at the fruit, large as plums, with which they -are laden now taking a ripe cherry from the wall now stooping -towards a knot of flowers, either to inhale their fragrance or to -admire the dewbeads on their petals. A great moth goes humming -by me it alights on a plant at Mr. Rochester's foot he sees it, -and bends to examine it. -"Now, he has his back towards me," thought I, "and he is occupied -too perhaps, if I walk softly, I can slip away unnoticed." -I trode on an edging of turf that the crackle of the pebbly gravel -might not betray me he was standing among the beds at a yard or -two distant from where I had to pass the moth apparently engaged -him. "I shall get by very well," I meditated. As I crossed his -shadow, thrown long over the garden by the moon, not yet -risen high, he said quietly, without turning -"Jane, come and look at this fellow." -I had made no noise he had not eyes behind could his shadow -feel? I started at first, and then I approached him. -"Look at his wings," said he, "he reminds me rather of a West Indian -insect one does not often see so large and gay a nightrover in -England there he is flown." -The moth roamed away. I was sheepishly retreating also but Mr. -Rochester followed me, and when we reached the wicket, he said -"Turn back on so lovely a night it is a shame to sit in the house -and surely no one can wish to go to bed while sunset is thus at -meeting with moonrise." -It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt -enough at an answer, there are times when it sadly fails me in -framing an excuse and always the lapse occurs at some crisis, when -a facile word or plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me -out of painful embarrassment. I did not like to walk at this hour -alone with Mr. Rochester in the shadowy orchard but I could not -find a reason to allege for leaving him. I followed with lagging -step, and thoughts busily bent on discovering a means of extrication -but he himself looked so composed and so grave also, I became -ashamed of feeling any confusion the evil if evil existent or -prospective there was seemed to lie with me only his mind was -unconscious and quiet. -"Jane," he recommenced, as we entered the laurel walk, and slowly -strayed down in the direction of the sunk fence and the horsechestnut, -"Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, is it not?" -"Yes, sir." -"You must have become in some degree attached to the house, -you, who have an eye for natural beauties, and a good deal of the -organ of Adhesiveness?" -"I am attached to it, indeed." -"And though I don't comprehend how it is, I perceive you have -acquired a degree of regard for that foolish little child Adele, -too and even for simple dame Fairfax?" -"Yes, sir in different ways, I have an affection for both." -"And would be sorry to part with them?" -"Yes." -"Pity" he said, and sighed and paused. "It is always the way -of events in this life," he continued presently "no sooner have -you got settled in a pleasant restingplace, than a voice calls -out to you to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is expired." -"Must I move on, sir?" I asked. "Must I leave Thornfield?" -"I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Janet, but I believe indeed -you must." -This was a blow but I did not let it prostrate me. -"Well, sir, I shall be ready when the order to march comes." -"It is come now I must give it tonight." -"Then you ARE going to be married, sir?" -"Exactly precisely with your usual acuteness, you have -hit the nail straight on the head." -"Soon, sir?" -"Very soon, my that is, Miss Eyre and you'll remember, Jane, -the first time I, or Rumour, plainly intimated to you that it was -my intention to put my old bachelor's neck into the sacred noose, -to enter into the holy estate of matrimony to take Miss Ingram -to my bosom, in short she's an extensive armful but that's not -to the point one can't have too much of such a very excellent -thing as my beautiful Blanche well, as I was saying listen to -me, Jane You're not turning your head to look after more moths, -are you? That was only a ladyclock, child, 'flying away home.' -I wish to remind you that it was you who first said to me, with -that discretion I respect in you with that foresight, prudence, -and humility which befit your responsible and dependent position -that in case I married Miss Ingram, both you and little Adele -had better trot forthwith. I pass over the sort of slur conveyed -in this suggestion on the character of my beloved indeed, when -you are far away, Janet, I'll try to forget it I shall notice -only its wisdom which is such that I have made it my law of -action. Adele must go to school and you, Miss Eyre, must get a -new situation." -"Yes, sir, I will advertise immediately and meantime, I suppose -" I was going to say, "I suppose I may stay here, till I find -another shelter to betake myself to" but I stopped, feeling it -would not do to risk a long sentence, for my voice was not quite -under command. -"In about a month I hope to be a bridegroom," continued Mr. Rochester -"and in the interim, I shall myself look out for employment and an -asylum for you." -"Thank you, sir I am sorry to give " -"Oh, no need to apologise I consider that when a dependent does -her duty as well as you have done yours, she has a sort of claim -upon her employer for any little assistance he can conveniently -render her indeed I have already, through my future motherinlaw, -heard of a place that I think will suit it is to undertake the -education of the five daughters of Mrs. Dionysius O'Gall of Bitternutt -Lodge, Connaught, Ireland. You'll like Ireland, I think they're -such warmhearted people there, they say." -"It is a long way off, sir." -"No matter a girl of your sense will not object to the voyage -or the distance." -"Not the voyage, but the distance and then the sea is a barrier " -"From what, Jane?" -"From England and from Thornfield and " -"Well?" -"From YOU, sir." -I said this almost involuntarily, and, with as little sanction of -free will, my tears gushed out. I did not cry so as to be heard, -however I avoided sobbing. The thought of Mrs. O'Gall and Bitternutt -Lodge struck cold to my heart and colder the thought of all the -brine and foam, destined, as it seemed, to rush between me and the -master at whose side I now walked, and coldest the remembrance of -the wider ocean wealth, caste, custom intervened between me and -what I naturally and inevitably loved. -"It is a long way," I again said. -"It is, to be sure and when you get to Bitternutt Lodge, Connaught, -Ireland, I shall never see you again, Jane that's morally certain. -I never go over to Ireland, not having myself much of a fancy for -the country. We have been good friends, Jane have we not?" -"Yes, sir." -"And when friends are on the eve of separation, they like to spend -the little time that remains to them close to each other. Come -we'll talk over the voyage and the parting quietly halfanhour -or so, while the stars enter into their shining life up in heaven -yonder here is the chestnut tree here is the bench at its old -roots. Come, we will sit there in peace tonight, though we should -never more be destined to sit there together." He seated me and -himself. -"It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my -little friend on such weary travels but if I can't do better, -how is it to be helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, -Jane?" -I could risk no sort of answer by this time my heart was still. -"Because," he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard -to you especially when you are near me, as now it is as if I -had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably -knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter -of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two -hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that -cord of communion will be snapt and then I've a nervous notion I -should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me." -"That I NEVER should, sir You know " Impossible to proceed. -"Jane, do you hear that nightingale singing in the wood? Listen" -In listening, I sobbed convulsively for I could repress what I -endured no longer I was obliged to yield, and I was shaken from -head to foot with acute distress. When I did speak, it was only -to express an impetuous wish that I had never been born, or never -come to Thornfield. -"Because you are sorry to leave it?" -The vehemence of emotion, stirred by grief and love within me, -was claiming mastery, and struggling for full sway, and asserting -a right to predominate, to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at -last yes, and to speak. -"I grieve to leave Thornfield I love Thornfield I love it, because -I have lived in it a full and delightful life, momentarily at -least. I have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I -have not been buried with inferior minds, and excluded from every -glimpse of communion with what is bright and energetic and high. -I have talked, face to face, with what I reverence, with what I -delight in, with an original, a vigorous, an expanded mind. I -have known you, Mr. Rochester and it strikes me with terror and -anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see -the necessity of departure and it is like looking on the necessity -of death." -"Where do you see the necessity?" he asked suddenly. -"Where? You, sir, have placed it before me." -"In what shape?" -"In the shape of Miss Ingram a noble and beautiful woman, your -bride." -"My bride What bride? I have no bride" -"But you will have." -"Yes I will I will" He set his teeth. -"Then I must go you have said it yourself." -"No you must stay I swear it and the oath shall be kept." -"I tell you I must go" I retorted, roused to something like -passion. "Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do -you think I am an automaton? a machine without feelings? and -can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my -drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I -am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? -You think wrong I have as much soul as you, and full as much -heart And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, -I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for -me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium -of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh it is -my spirit that addresses your spirit just as if both had passed -through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal, as we -are" -"As we are" repeated Mr. Rochester "so," he added, enclosing -me in his arms. Gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on -my lips "so, Jane" -"Yes, so, sir," I rejoined "and yet not so for you are a married -man or as good as a married man, and wed to one inferior to you -to one with whom you have no sympathy whom I do not believe -you truly love for I have seen and heard you sneer at her. I would -scorn such a union therefore I am better than you let me go" -"Where, Jane? To Ireland?" -"Yes to Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere -now." -"Jane, be still don't struggle so, like a wild frantic bird that -is rending its own plumage in its desperation." -"I am no bird and no net ensnares me I am a free human being with -an independent will, which I now exert to leave you." -Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him. -"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said "I offer you -my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions." -"You play a farce, which I merely laugh at." -"I ask you to pass through life at my side to be my second self, -and best earthly companion." -"For that fate you have already made your choice, and must abide -by it." -"Jane, be still a few moments you are overexcited I will be -still too." -A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurelwalk, and trembled -through the boughs of the chestnut it wandered away away -to an indefinite distance it died. The nightingale's song was -then the only voice of the hour in listening to it, I again wept. -Mr. Rochester sat quiet, looking at me gently and seriously. -Some time passed before he spoke he at last said -"Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one -another." -"I will never again come to your side I am torn away now, and -cannot return." -"But, Jane, I summon you as my wife it is you only I intend to -marry." -I was silent I thought he mocked me. -"Come, Jane come hither." -"Your bride stands between us." -He rose, and with a stride reached me. -"My bride is here," he said, again drawing me to him, "because my -equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?" -Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his grasp -for I was still incredulous. -"Do you doubt me, Jane?" -"Entirely." -"You have no faith in me?" -"Not a whit." -"Am I a liar in your eyes?" he asked passionately. "Little sceptic, -you SHALL be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None -and that you know. What love has she for me? None as I have -taken pains to prove I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune -was not a third of what was supposed, and after that I presented -myself to see the result it was coldness both from her and her -mother. I would not I could not marry Miss Ingram. You -you strange, you almost unearthly thing I love as my own flesh. -You poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are I entreat -to accept me as a husband." -"What, me" I ejaculated, beginning in his earnestness and -especially in his incivility to credit his sincerity "me who -have not a friend in the world but you if you are my friend -not a shilling but what you have given me?" -"You, Jane, I must have you for my own entirely my own. Will -you be mine? Say yes, quickly." -"Mr. Rochester, let me look at your face turn to the moonlight." -"Why?" -"Because I want to read your countenance turn" -"There you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled, -scratched page. Read on only make haste, for I suffer." -His face was very much agitated and very much flushed, and there -were strong workings in the features, and strange gleams in the -eyes -"Oh, Jane, you torture me" he exclaimed. "With that searching -and yet faithful and generous look, you torture me" -"How can I do that? If you are true, and your offer real, my -only feelings to you must be gratitude and devotion they cannot -torture." -"Gratitude" he ejaculated and added wildly "Jane accept me -quickly. Say, Edward give me my name Edward I will marry -you." -"Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish -me to be your wife?" -"I do and if an oath is necessary to satisfy you, I swear it." -"Then, sir, I will marry you." -"Edward my little wife" -"Dear Edward" -"Come to me come to me entirely now," said he and added, in -his deepest tone, speaking in my ear as his cheek was laid on mine, -"Make my happiness I will make yours." -"God pardon me" he subjoined ere long "and man meddle not with -me I have her, and will hold her." -"There is no one to meddle, sir. I have no kindred to interfere." -"No that is the best of it," he said. And if I had loved -him less I should have thought his accent and look of exultation -savage but, sitting by him, roused from the nightmare of parting -called to the paradise of union I thought only of the bliss -given me to drink in so abundant a flow. Again and again he said, -"Are you happy, Jane?" And again and again I answered, "Yes." -After which he murmured, "It will atone it will atone. Have I -not found her friendless, and cold, and comfortless? Will I not -guard, and cherish, and solace her? Is there not love in my heart, -and constancy in my resolves? It will expiate at God's tribunal. -I know my Maker sanctions what I do. For the world's judgment -I wash my hands thereof. For man's opinion I defy it." -But what had befallen the night? The moon was not yet set, and we -were all in shadow I could scarcely see my master's face, near as -I was. And what ailed the chestnut tree? it writhed and groaned -while wind roared in the laurel walk, and came sweeping over us. -"We must go in," said Mr. Rochester "the weather changes. I -could have sat with thee till morning, Jane." -"And so," thought I, "could I with you." I should have said so, -perhaps, but a livid, vivid spark leapt out of a cloud at which I -was looking, and there was a crack, a crash, and a close rattling -peal and I thought only of hiding my dazzled eyes against Mr. -Rochester's shoulder. -The rain rushed down. He hurried me up the walk, through the grounds, -and into the house but we were quite wet before we could pass the -threshold. He was taking off my shawl in the hall, and shaking -the water out of my loosened hair, when Mrs. Fairfax emerged from -her room. I did not observe her at first, nor did Mr. Rochester. -The lamp was lit. The clock was on the stroke of twelve. -"Hasten to take off your wet things," said he "and before you go, -goodnight goodnight, my darling" -He kissed me repeatedly. When I looked up, on leaving his arms, -there stood the widow, pale, grave, and amazed. I only smiled at -her, and ran upstairs. "Explanation will do for another time," -thought I. Still, when I reached my chamber, I felt a pang at the -idea she should even temporarily misconstrue what she had seen. But -joy soon effaced every other feeling and loud as the wind blew, -near and deep as the thunder crashed, fierce and frequent as the -lightning gleamed, cataractlike as the rain fell during a storm -of two hours' duration, I experienced no fear and little awe. Mr. -Rochester came thrice to my door in the course of it, to ask if -I was safe and tranquil and that was comfort, that was strength -for anything. -Before I left my bed in the morning, little Adele came running -in to tell me that the great horsechestnut at the bottom of the -orchard had been struck by lightning in the night, and half of it -split away. -CHAPTER XXIV -As I rose and dressed, I thought over what had happened, and wondered -if it were a dream. I could not be certain of the reality till I -had seen Mr. Rochester again, and heard him renew his words of love -and promise. -While arranging my hair, I looked at my face in the glass, and felt -it was no longer plain there was hope in its aspect and life in -its colour and my eyes seemed as if they had beheld the fount of -fruition, and borrowed beams from the lustrous ripple. I had often -been unwilling to look at my master, because I feared he could not -be pleased at my look but I was sure I might lift my face to his -now, and not cool his affection by its expression. I took a plain -but clean and light summer dress from my drawer and put it on it -seemed no attire had ever so well become me, because none had I -ever worn in so blissful a mood. -I was not surprised, when I ran down into the hall, to see that a -brilliant June morning had succeeded to the tempest of the night -and to feel, through the open glass door, the breathing of a fresh -and fragrant breeze. Nature must be gladsome when I was so happy. -A beggarwoman and her little boy pale, ragged objects both -were coming up the walk, and I ran down and gave them all the money -I happened to have in my purse some three or four shillings -good or bad, they must partake of my jubilee. The rooks cawed, -and blither birds sang but nothing was so merry or so musical as -my own rejoicing heart. -Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of the window with a -sad countenance, and saying gravely "Miss Eyre, will you come -to breakfast?" During the meal she was quiet and cool but I -could not undeceive her then. I must wait for my master to give -explanations and so must she. I ate what I could, and then I -hastened upstairs. I met Adele leaving the schoolroom. -"Where are you going? It is time for lessons." -"Mr. Rochester has sent me away to the nursery." -"Where is he?" -"In there," pointing to the apartment she had left and I went in, -and there he stood. -"Come and bid me goodmorning," said he. I gladly advanced and it -was not merely a cold word now, or even a shake of the hand that I -received, but an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural it seemed -genial to be so well loved, so caressed by him. -"Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty," said he -"truly pretty this morning. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this -my mustardseed? This little sunnyfaced girl with the dimpled -cheek and rosy lips the satinsmooth hazel hair, and the radiant -hazel eyes?" I had green eyes, reader but you must excuse the -mistake for him they were newdyed, I suppose. -"It is Jane Eyre, sir." -"Soon to be Jane Rochester," he added "in four weeks, Janet not -a day more. Do you hear that?" -I did, and I could not quite comprehend it it made me giddy. The -feeling, the announcement sent through me, was something stronger -than was consistent with joy something that smote and stunned. -It was, I think almost fear. -"You blushed, and now you are white, Jane what is that for?" -"Because you gave me a new name Jane Rochester and it seems so -strange." -"Yes, Mrs. Rochester," said he "young Mrs. Rochester Fairfax -Rochester's girlbride." -"It can never be, sir it does not sound likely. Human beings -never enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for -a different destiny to the rest of my species to imagine such a -lot befalling me is a fairy tale a daydream." -"Which I can and will realise. I shall begin today. This morning -I wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in -his keeping, heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day -or two I hope to pour them into your lap for every privilege, every -attention shall be yours that I would accord a peer's daughter, if -about to marry her." -"Oh, sir never rain jewels I don't like to hear them spoken -of. Jewels for Jane Eyre sounds unnatural and strange I would -rather not have them." -"I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck, and the circlet -on your forehead, which it will become for nature, at least, -has stamped her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane and I will -clasp the bracelets on these fine wrists, and load these fairylike -fingers with rings." -"No, no, sir think of other subjects, and speak of other things, -and in another strain. Don't address me as if I were a beauty I -am your plain, Quakerish governess." -"You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire -of my heart, delicate and aerial." -"Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir, or -you are sneering. For God's sake don't be ironical" -"I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty, too," he went on, -while I really became uneasy at the strain he had adopted, because -I felt he was either deluding himself or trying to delude me. "I -will attire my Jane in satin and lace, and she shall have roses in -her hair and I will cover the head I love best with a priceless -veil." -"And then you won't know me, sir and I shall not be your Jane -Eyre any longer, but an ape in a harlequin's jacket a jay in -borrowed plumes. I would as soon see you, Mr. Rochester, tricked -out in stagetrappings, as myself clad in a courtlady's robe and -I don't call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly far -too dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me." -He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation. -"This very day I shall take you in the carriage to Millcote, and -you must choose some dresses for yourself. I told you we shall be -married in four weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly, in -the church down below yonder and then I shall waft you away at -once to town. After a brief stay there, I shall bear my treasure -to regions nearer the sun to French vineyards and Italian plains -and she shall see whatever is famous in old story and in modern -record she shall taste, too, of the life of cities and she shall -learn to value herself by just comparison with others." -"Shall I travel? and with you, sir?" -"You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome, and Naples at Florence, -Venice, and Vienna all the ground I have wandered over shall be -retrodden by you wherever I stamped my hoof, your sylph's foot -shall step also. Ten years since, I flew through Europe half mad -with disgust, hate, and rage as my companions now I shall revisit -it healed and cleansed, with a very angel as my comforter." -I laughed at him as he said this. "I am not an angel," I asserted -"and I will not be one till I die I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, -you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me for -you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you which -I do not at all anticipate." -"What do you anticipate of me?" -"For a little while you will perhaps be as you are now, a very -little while and then you will turn cool and then you will be -capricious and then you will be stern, and I shall have much ado -to please you but when you get well used to me, you will perhaps -like me again, LIKE me, I say, not LOVE me. I suppose your love -will effervesce in six months, or less. I have observed in books -written by men, that period assigned as the farthest to which a -husband's ardour extends. Yet, after all, as a friend and companion, -I hope never to become quite distasteful to my dear master." -"Distasteful and like you again I think I shall like you again, -and yet again and I will make you confess I do not only LIKE, -but LOVE you with truth, fervour, constancy." -"Yet are you not capricious, sir?" -"To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil -when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts when they -open to me a perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps -imbecility, coarseness, and illtemper but to the clear eye and -eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that -bends but does not break at once supple and stable, tractable -and consistent I am ever tender and true." -"Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever -love such an one?" -"I love it now." -"But before me if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your -difficult standard?" -"I never met your likeness. Jane, you please me, and you master me -you seem to submit, and I like the sense of pliancy you impart -and while I am twining the soft, silken skein round my finger, it -sends a thrill up my arm to my heart. I am influenced conquered -and the influence is sweeter than I can express and the conquest -I undergo has a witchery beyond any triumph I can win. Why do you -smile, Jane? What does that inexplicable, that uncanny turn of -countenance mean?" -"I was thinking, sir you will excuse the idea it was involuntary, -I was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their charmers " -"You were, you little elfish " -"Hush, sir You don't talk very wisely just now any more than -those gentlemen acted very wisely. However, had they been married, -they would no doubt by their severity as husbands have made up for -their softness as suitors and so will you, I fear. I wonder how -you will answer me a year hence, should I ask a favour it does not -suit your convenience or pleasure to grant." -"Ask me something now, Jane, the least thing I desire -to be entreated " -"Indeed I will, sir I have my petition all ready." -"Speak But if you look up and smile with that countenance, I shall -swear concession before I know to what, and that will make a fool -of me." -"Not at all, sir I ask only this don't send for the jewels, and -don't crown me with roses you might as well put a border of gold -lace round that plain pocket handkerchief you have there." -"I might as well 'gild refined gold.' I know it your request is -granted then for the time. I will remand the order I despatched -to my banker. But you have not yet asked for anything you have -prayed a gift to be withdrawn try again." -"Well then, sir, have the goodness to gratify my curiosity, which -is much piqued on one point." -He looked disturbed. "What? what?" he said hastily. "Curiosity -is a dangerous petition it is well I have not taken a -vow to accord every request " -"But there can be no danger in complying with this, sir." -"Utter it, Jane but I wish that instead of a mere inquiry into, -perhaps, a secret, it was a wish for half my estate." -"Now, King Ahasuerus What do I want with half your estate? Do -you think I am a Jewusurer, seeking good investment in land? I -would much rather have all your confidence. You will not exclude -me from your confidence if you admit me to your heart?" -"You are welcome to all my confidence that is worth having, Jane -but for God's sake, don't desire a useless burden Don't long for -poison don't turn out a downright Eve on my hands" -"Why not, sir? You have just been telling me how much you liked -to be conquered, and how pleasant overpersuasion is to you. Don't -you think I had better take advantage of the confession, and begin -and coax and entreat even cry and be sulky if necessary for -the sake of a mere essay of my power?" -"I dare you to any such experiment. Encroach, presume, and the -game is up." -"Is it, sir? You soon give in. How stern you look now Your -eyebrows have become as thick as my finger, and your forehead -resembles what, in some very astonishing poetry, I once saw styled, -'a bluepiled thunderloft.' That will be your married look, sir, -I suppose?" -"If that will be YOUR married look, I, as a Christian, will soon -give up the notion of consorting with a mere sprite or salamander. -But what had you to ask, thing, out with it?" -"There, you are less than civil now and I like rudeness a great -deal better than flattery. I had rather be a THING than an angel. -This is what I have to ask, Why did you take such pains to make -me believe you wished to marry Miss Ingram?" -"Is that all? Thank God it is no worse" And now he unknit his -black brows looked down, smiling at me, and stroked my hair, as if -well pleased at seeing a danger averted. "I think I may confess," -he continued, "even although I should make you a little indignant, -Jane and I have seen what a firespirit you can be when you are -indignant. You glowed in the cool moonlight last night, when you -mutinied against fate, and claimed your rank as my equal. Janet, -bythebye, it was you who made me the offer." -"Of course I did. But to the point if you please, sir Miss -Ingram?" -"Well, I feigned courtship of Miss Ingram, because I wished to -render you as madly in love with me as I was with you and I knew -jealousy would be the best ally I could call in for the furtherance -of that end." -"Excellent Now you are small not one whit bigger than the -end of my little finger. It was a burning shame and a scandalous -disgrace to act in that way. Did you think nothing of Miss Ingram's -feelings, sir?" -"Her feelings are concentrated in one pride and that needs -humbling. Were you jealous, Jane?" -"Never mind, Mr. Rochester it is in no way interesting to you -to know that. Answer me truly once more. Do you think Miss Ingram -will not suffer from your dishonest coquetry? Won't she feel -forsaken and deserted?" -"Impossible when I told you how she, on the contrary, deserted -me the idea of my insolvency cooled, or rather extinguished, her -flame in a moment." -"You have a curious, designing mind, Mr. Rochester. I am afraid -your principles on some points are eccentric." -"My principles were never trained, Jane they may have grown a -little awry for want of attention." -"Once again, seriously may I enjoy the great good that has been -vouchsafed to me, without fearing that any one else is suffering -the bitter pain I myself felt a while ago?" -"That you may, my good little girl there is not another being in -the world has the same pure love for me as yourself for I lay -that pleasant unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection." -I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder. I loved him -very much more than I could trust myself to say more than -words had power to express. -"Ask something more," he said presently "it is my delight to be -entreated, and to yield." -I was again ready with my request. "Communicate your intentions -to Mrs. Fairfax, sir she saw me with you last night in the hall, -and she was shocked. Give her some explanation before I see her -again. It pains me to be misjudged by so good a woman." -"Go to your room, and put on your bonnet," he replied. "I mean -you to accompany me to Millcote this morning and while you prepare -for the drive, I will enlighten the old lady's understanding. Did -she think, Janet, you had given the world for love, and considered -it well lost?" -"I believe she thought I had forgotten my station, and yours, sir." -"Station station your station is in my heart, and on the -necks of those who would insult you, now or hereafter. Go." -I was soon dressed and when I heard Mr. Rochester quit Mrs. -Fairfax's parlour, I hurried down to it. The old lady, had been -reading her morning portion of Scripture the Lesson for the -day her Bible lay open before her, and her spectacles were upon -it. Her occupation, suspended by Mr. Rochester's announcement, -seemed now forgotten her eyes, fixed on the blank wall opposite, -expressed the surprise of a quiet mind stirred by unwonted tidings. -Seeing me, she roused herself she made a sort of effort to smile, -and framed a few words of congratulation but the smile expired, and -the sentence was abandoned unfinished. She put up her spectacles, -shut the Bible, and pushed her chair back from the table. -"I feel so astonished," she began, "I hardly know what to say to -you, Miss Eyre. I have surely not been dreaming, have I? Sometimes -I half fall asleep when I am sitting alone and fancy things that -have never happened. It has seemed to me more than once when I -have been in a doze, that my dear husband, who died fifteen years -since, has come in and sat down beside me and that I have even -heard him call me by my name, Alice, as he used to do. Now, can -you tell me whether it is actually true that Mr. Rochester has -asked you to marry him? Don't laugh at me. But I really thought -he came in here five minutes ago, and said that in a month you -would be his wife." -"He has said the same thing to me," I replied. -"He has Do you believe him? Have you accepted him?" -"Yes." -She looked at me bewildered. "I could never have thought it. He -is a proud man all the Rochesters were proud and his father, -at least, liked money. He, too, has always been called careful. -He means to marry you?" -"He tells me so." -She surveyed my whole person in her eyes I read that they had -there found no charm powerful enough to solve the enigma. -"It passes me" she continued "but no doubt, it is true since you -say so. How it will answer, I cannot tell I really don't know. -Equality of position and fortune is often advisable in such cases -and there are twenty years of difference in your ages. He might -almost be your father." -"No, indeed, Mrs. Fairfax" exclaimed I, nettled "he is nothing -like my father No one, who saw us together, would suppose it for -an instant. Mr. Rochester looks as young, and is as young, as some -men at fiveandtwenty." -"Is it really for love he is going to marry you?" she asked. -I was so hurt by her coldness and scepticism, that the tears rose -to my eyes. -"I am sorry to grieve you," pursued the widow "but you are -so young, and so little acquainted with men, I wished to put you -on your guard. It is an old saying that 'all is not gold that -glitters' and in this case I do fear there will be something found -to be different to what either you or I expect." -"Why? am I a monster?" I said "is it impossible that Mr. -Rochester should have a sincere affection for me?" -"No you are very well and much improved of late and Mr. Rochester, -I daresay, is fond of you. I have always noticed that you were a -sort of pet of his. There are times when, for your sake, I have -been a little uneasy at his marked preference, and have wished -to put you on your guard but I did not like to suggest even the -possibility of wrong. I knew such an idea would shock, perhaps -offend you and you were so discreet, and so thoroughly modest and -sensible, I hoped you might be trusted to protect yourself. Last -night I cannot tell you what I suffered when I sought all over -the house, and could find you nowhere, nor the master either and -then, at twelve o'clock, saw you come in with him." -"Well, never mind that now," I interrupted impatiently "it is -enough that all was right." -"I hope all will be right in the end," she said "but believe me, -you cannot be too careful. Try and keep Mr. Rochester at a distance -distrust yourself as well as him. Gentlemen in his station are -not accustomed to marry their governesses." -I was growing truly irritated happily, Adele ran in. -"Let me go, let me go to Millcote too" she cried. "Mr. Rochester -won't though there is so much room in the new carriage. Beg him -to let me go mademoiselle." -"That I will, Adele" and I hastened away with her, glad to quit -my gloomy monitress. The carriage was ready they were bringing -it round to the front, and my master was on the pavement, Pilot -following him backwards and forwards. -"Adele may accompany us, may she not, sir?" -"I told her no. I'll have no brats I'll have only you." -"Do let her go, Mr. Rochester, if you please it would be better." -"Not it she will be a restraint." -He was quite peremptory, both in look and voice. The chill of -Mrs. Fairfax's warnings, and the damp of her doubts were upon me -something of unsubstantiality and uncertainty had beset my hopes. -I half lost the sense of power over him. I was about mechanically -to obey him, without further remonstrance but as he helped me into -the carriage, he looked at my face. -"What is the matter?" he asked "all the sunshine is gone. Do -you really wish the bairn to go? Will it annoy you if she is left -behind?" -"I would far rather she went, sir." -"Then off for your bonnet, and back like a flash of lightning" -cried he to Adele. -She obeyed him with what speed she might. -"After all, a single morning's interruption will not matter much," -said he, "when I mean shortly to claim you your thoughts, -conversation, and company for life." -Adele, when lifted in, commenced kissing me, by way of expressing -her gratitude for my intercession she was instantly stowed away -into a corner on the other side of him. She then peeped round to -where I sat so stern a neighbour was too restrictive to him, in -his present fractious mood, she dared whisper no observations, nor -ask of him any information. -"Let her come to me," I entreated "she will, perhaps, trouble -you, sir there is plenty of room on this side." -He handed her over as if she had been a lapdog. "I'll send her to -school yet," he said, but now he was smiling. -Adele heard him, and asked if she was to go to school "sans -mademoiselle?" -"Yes," he replied, "absolutely sans mademoiselle for I am to take -mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of -the white valleys among the volcanotops, and mademoiselle shall -live with me there, and only me." -"She will have nothing to eat you will starve her," observed -Adele. -"I shall gather manna for her morning and night the plains and -hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adele." -"She will want to warm herself what will she do for a fire?" -"Fire rises out of the lunar mountains when she is cold, I'll -carry her up to a peak, and lay her down on the edge of a crater." -"Oh, qu' elle y sera mal peu comfortable And her clothes, they -will wear out how can she get new ones?" -Mr. Rochester professed to be puzzled. "Hem" said he. "What -would you do, Adele? Cudgel your brains for an expedient. How -would a white or a pink cloud answer for a gown, do you think? And -one could cut a pretty enough scarf out of a rainbow." -"She is far better as she is," concluded Adele, after musing some -time "besides, she would get tired of living with only you in -the moon. If I were mademoiselle, I would never consent to go with -you." -"She has consented she has pledged her word." -"But you can't get her there there is no road to the moon it is -all air and neither you nor she can fly." -"Adele, look at that field." We were now outside Thornfield gates, -and bowling lightly along the smooth road to Millcote, where the -dust was well laid by the thunderstorm, and, where the low hedges -and lofty timber trees on each side glistened green and rainrefreshed. -"In that field, Adele, I was walking late one evening about -a fortnight since the evening of the day you helped me to make -hay in the orchard meadows and, as I was tired with raking swaths, -I sat down to rest me on a stile and there I took out a little book -and a pencil, and began to write about a misfortune that befell me -long ago, and a wish I had for happy days to come I was writing -away very fast, though daylight was fading from the leaf, when -something came up the path and stopped two yards off me. I looked -at it. It was a little thing with a veil of gossamer on its head. -I beckoned it to come near me it stood soon at my knee. I never -spoke to it, and it never spoke to me, in words but I read its eyes, -and it read mine and our speechless colloquy was to this effect -"It was a fairy, and come from Elfland, it said and its errand -was to make me happy I must go with it out of the common world to -a lonely place such as the moon, for instance and it nodded -its head towards her horn, rising over Hayhill it told me of -the alabaster cave and silver vale where we might live. I said I -should like to go but reminded it, as you did me, that I had no -wings to fly. -"'Oh,' returned the fairy, 'that does not signify Here is a -talisman will remove all difficulties' and she held out a pretty -gold ring. 'Put it,' she said, 'on the fourth finger of my left -hand, and I am yours, and you are mine and we shall leave earth, -and make our own heaven yonder.' She nodded again at the moon. -The ring, Adele, is in my breechespocket, under the disguise of -a sovereign but I mean soon to change it to a ring again." -"But what has mademoiselle to do with it? I don't care for the -fairy you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon?" -"Mademoiselle is a fairy," he said, whispering mysteriously. Whereupon -I told her not to mind his badinage and she, on her part, evinced -a fund of genuine French scepticism denominating Mr. Rochester "un -vrai menteur," and assuring him that she made no account whatever -of his "contes de fee," and that "du reste, il n'y avait pas de -fees, et quand meme il y en avait" she was sure they would never -appear to him, nor ever give him rings, or offer to live with him -in the moon. -The hour spent at Millcote was a somewhat harassing one to me. Mr. -Rochester obliged me to go to a certain silk warehouse there I -was ordered to choose halfadozen dresses. I hated the business, -I begged leave to defer it no it should be gone through with -now. By dint of entreaties expressed in energetic whispers, I -reduced the halfdozen to two these however, he vowed he would -select himself. With anxiety I watched his eye rove over the gay -stores he fixed on a rich silk of the most brilliant amethyst dye, -and a superb pink satin. I told him in a new series of whispers, -that he might as well buy me a gold gown and a silver bonnet at -once I should certainly never venture to wear his choice. With -infinite difficulty, for he was stubborn as a stone, I persuaded him -to make an exchange in favour of a sober black satin and pearlgrey -silk. "It might pass for the present," he said "but he would yet -see me glittering like a parterre." -Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of -a jewellers shop the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned -with a sense of annoyance and degradation. As we reentered the -carriage, and I sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, -in the hurry of events, dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten -the letter of my uncle, John Eyre, to Mrs. Reed his intention to -adopt me and make me his legatee. "It would, indeed, be a relief," -I thought, "if I had ever so small an independency I never can -bear being dressed like a doll by Mr. Rochester, or sitting like -a second Danae with the golden shower falling daily round me. I -will write to Madeira the moment I get home, and tell my uncle John -I am going to be married, and to whom if I had but a prospect -of one day bringing Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I could -better endure to be kept by him now." And somewhat relieved by -this idea which I failed not to execute that day, I ventured once -more to meet my master's and lover's eye, which most pertinaciously -sought mine, though I averted both face and gaze. He smiled and -I thought his smile was such as a sultan might, in a blissful and -fond moment, bestow on a slave his gold and gems had enriched I -crushed his hand, which was ever hunting mine, vigorously, and -thrust it back to him red with the passionate pressure. -"You need not look in that way," I said "if you do, I'll wear -nothing but my old Lowood frocks to the end of the chapter. I'll -be married in this lilac gingham you may make a dressinggown -for yourself out of the pearlgrey silk, and an infinite series of -waistcoats out of the black satin." -He chuckled he rubbed his hands. "Oh, it is rich to see and hear -her?" he exclaimed. "Is she original? Is she piquant? I would -not exchange this one little English girl for the Grand Turk's -whole seraglio, gazelleeyes, houri forms, and all" -The Eastern allusion bit me again. "I'll not stand you an inch in -the stead of a seraglio," I said "so don't consider me an equivalent -for one. If you have a fancy for anything in that line, away with -you, sir, to the bazaars of Stamboul without delay, and lay out -in extensive slavepurchases some of that spare cash you seem at -a loss to spend satisfactorily here." -"And what will you do, Janet, while I am bargaining for so many -tons of flesh and such an assortment of black eyes?" -"I'll be preparing myself to go out as a missionary to preach -liberty to them that are enslaved your harem inmates amongst the -rest. I'll get admitted there, and I'll stir up mutiny and you, -threetailed bashaw as you are, sir, shall in a trice find yourself -fettered amongst our hands nor will I, for one, consent to cut -your bonds till you have signed a charter, the most liberal that -despot ever yet conferred." -"I would consent to be at your mercy, Jane." -"I would have no mercy, Mr. Rochester, if you supplicated for it -with an eye like that. While you looked so, I should be certain -that whatever charter you might grant under coercion, your first -act, when released, would be to violate its conditions." -"Why, Jane, what would you have? I fear you will compel me to go -through a private marriage ceremony, besides that performed at the -altar. You will stipulate, I see, for peculiar terms what will -they be?" -"I only want an easy mind, sir not crushed by crowded obligations. -Do you remember what you said of Celine Varens? of the diamonds, -the cashmeres you gave her? I will not be your English Celine -Varens. I shall continue to act as Adele's governess by that I -shall earn my board and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides. -I'll furnish my own wardrobe out of that money, and you -shall give me nothing but " -"Well, but what?" -"Your regard and if I give you mine in return, that debt will be -quit." -"Well, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you haven't -your equal," said he. We were now approaching Thornfield. "Will -it please you to dine with me today?" he asked, as we reentered -the gates. -"No, thank you, sir." -"And what for, 'no, thank you?' if one may inquire." -"I never have dined with you, sir and I see no reason -why I should now till " -"Till what? You delight in halfphrases." -"Till I can't help it." -"Do you suppose I eat like an ogre or a ghoul, that you dread being -the companion of my repast?" -"I have formed no supposition on the subject, sir but I want to -go on as usual for another month." -"You will give up your governessing slavery at once." -"Indeed, begging your pardon, sir, I shall not. I shall just go -on with it as usual. I shall keep out of your way all day, as I -have been accustomed to do you may send for me in the evening, -when you feel disposed to see me, and I'll come then but at no -other time." -"I want a smoke, Jane, or a pinch of snuff, to comfort me under -all this, 'pour me donner une contenance,' as Adele would say and -unfortunately I have neither my cigarcase, nor my snuffbox. But -listen whisper. It is your time now, little tyrant, but it will -be mine presently and when once I have fairly seized you, to have -and to hold, I'll just figuratively speaking attach you to -a chain like this" touching his watchguard. "Yes, bonny wee -thing, I'll wear you in my bosom, lest my jewel I should tyne." -He said this as he helped me to alight from the carriage, and while -he afterwards lifted out Adele, I entered the house, and made good -my retreat upstairs. -He duly summoned me to his presence in the evening. I had prepared -an occupation for him for I was determined not to spend the whole -time in a teteetete conversation. I remembered his fine voice -I knew he liked to sing good singers generally do. I was -no vocalist myself, and, in his fastidious judgment, no musician, -either but I delighted in listening when the performance was good. -No sooner had twilight, that hour of romance, began to lower her -blue and starry banner over the lattice, than I rose, opened the -piano, and entreated him, for the love of heaven, to give me a -song. He said I was a capricious witch, and that he would rather -sing another time but I averred that no time was like the present. -"Did I like his voice?" he asked. -"Very much." I was not fond of pampering that susceptible vanity -of his but for once, and from motives of expediency, I would e'en -soothe and stimulate it. -"Then, Jane, you must play the accompaniment." -"Very well, sir, I will try." -I did try, but was presently swept off the stool and denominated "a -little bungler." Being pushed unceremoniously to one side which -was precisely what I wished he usurped my place, and proceeded -to accompany himself for he could play as well as sing. I hied -me to the windowrecess. And while I sat there and looked out on -the still trees and dim lawn, to a sweet air was sung in mellow -tones the following strain -"The truest love that ever heart -Felt at its kindled core, -Did through each vein, in quickened start, -The tide of being pour. -"Her coming was my hope each day, -Her parting was my pain -The chance that did her steps delay -Was ice in every vein. -"I dreamed it would be nameless bliss, -As I loved, loved to be -And to this object did I press -As blind as eagerly. -"But wide as pathless was the space -That lay our lives between, -And dangerous as the foamy race -Of oceansurges green. -"And haunted as a robberpath -Through wilderness or wood -For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath, -Between our spirits stood. -"I dangers dared I hindrance scorned -I omens did defy -Whatever menaced, harassed, warned, -I passed impetuous by. -"On sped my rainbow, fast as light -I flew as in a dream -For glorious rose upon my sight -That child of Shower and Gleam. -"Still bright on clouds of suffering dim -Shines that soft, solemn joy -Nor care I now, how dense and grim -Disasters gather nigh. -"I care not in this moment sweet, -Though all I have rushed o'er -Should come on pinion, strong and fleet, -Proclaiming vengeance sore -"Though haughty Hate should strike me down, -Right, bar approach to me, -And grinding Might, with furious frown, -Swear endless enmity. -"My love has placed her little hand -With noble faith in mine, -And vowed that wedlock's sacred band -Our nature shall entwine. -"My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, -With me to live to die -I have at last my nameless bliss. -As I love loved am I" -He rose and came towards me, and I saw his face all kindled, and -his full falconeye flashing, and tenderness and passion in every -lineament. I quailed momentarily then I rallied. Soft scene, -daring demonstration, I would not have and I stood in peril of -both a weapon of defence must be prepared I whetted my tongue -as he reached me, I asked with asperity, "whom he was going to -marry now?" -"That was a strange question to be put by his darling Jane." -"Indeed I considered it a very natural and necessary one he -had talked of his future wife dying with him. What did he mean -by such a pagan idea? I had no intention of dying with him he -might depend on that." -"Oh, all he longed, all he prayed for, was that I might live with -him Death was not for such as I." -"Indeed it was I had as good a right to die when my time came as -he had but I should bide that time, and not be hurried away in -a suttee." -"Would I forgive him for the selfish idea, and prove my pardon by -a reconciling kiss?" -"No I would rather be excused." -Here I heard myself apostrophised as a "hard little thing" and -it was added, "any other woman would have been melted to marrow at -hearing such stanzas crooned in her praise." -I assured him I was naturally hard very flinty, and that he would -often find me so and that, moreover, I was determined to show him -divers rugged points in my character before the ensuing four weeks -elapsed he should know fully what sort of a bargain he had made, -while there was yet time to rescind it. -"Would I be quiet and talk rationally?" -"I would be quiet if he liked, and as to talking rationally, I -flattered myself I was doing that now." -He fretted, pished, and pshawed. "Very good," I thought "you may -fume and fidget as you please but this is the best plan to pursue -with you, I am certain. I like you more than I can say but I'll -not sink into a bathos of sentiment and with this needle of -repartee I'll keep you from the edge of the gulf too and, moreover, -maintain by its pungent aid that distance between you and myself -most conducive to our real mutual advantage." -From less to more, I worked him up to considerable irritation then, -after he had retired, in dudgeon, quite to the other end of the -room, I got up, and saying, "I wish you goodnight, sir," in my -natural and wonted respectful manner, I slipped out by the sidedoor -and got away. -The system thus entered on, I pursued during the whole season of -probation and with the best success. He was kept, to be sure, rather -cross and crusty but on the whole I could see he was excellently -entertained, and that a lamblike submission and turtledove -sensibility, while fostering his despotism more, would have pleased -his judgment, satisfied his commonsense, and even suited his taste -less. -In other people's presence I was, as formerly, deferential and -quiet any other line of conduct being uncalled for it was only -in the evening conferences I thus thwarted and afflicted him. He -continued to send for me punctually the moment the clock struck -seven though when I appeared before him now, he had no such -honeyed terms as "love" and "darling" on his lips the best words -at my service were "provoking puppet," "malicious elf," "sprite," -"changeling," c. For caresses, too, I now got grimaces for a -pressure of the hand, a pinch on the arm for a kiss on the cheek, a -severe tweak of the ear. It was all right at present I decidedly -preferred these fierce favours to anything more tender. Mrs. -Fairfax, I saw, approved me her anxiety on my account vanished -therefore I was certain I did well. Meantime, Mr. Rochester -affirmed I was wearing him to skin and bone, and threatened awful -vengeance for my present conduct at some period fast coming. I -laughed in my sleeve at his menaces. "I can keep you in reasonable -check now," I reflected "and I don't doubt to be able to do -it hereafter if one expedient loses its virtue, another must be -devised." -Yet after all my task was not an easy one often I would rather have -pleased than teased him. My future husband was becoming to me my -whole world and more than the world almost my hope of heaven. -He stood between me and every thought of religion, as an eclipse -intervenes between man and the broad sun. I could not, in those -days, see God for His creature of whom I had made an idol. -CHAPTER XXV -The month of courtship had wasted its very last hours were being -numbered. There was no putting off the day that advanced the -bridal day and all preparations for its arrival were complete. I, -at least, had nothing more to do there were my trunks, packed, -locked, corded, ranged in a row along the wall of my little chamber -tomorrow, at this time, they would be far on their road to London -and so should I D.V., or rather, not I, but one Jane Rochester, -a person whom as yet I knew not. The cards of address alone remained -to nail on they lay, four little squares, in the drawer. Mr. -Rochester had himself written the direction, "Mrs. Rochester, -Hotel, London," on each I could not persuade myself to affix -them, or to have them affixed. Mrs. Rochester She did not exist -she would not be born till tomorrow, some time after eight o'clock -a.m. and I would wait to be assured she had come into the world -alive before I assigned to her all that property. It was enough -that in yonder closet, opposite my dressingtable, garments said to -be hers had already displaced my black stuff Lowood frock and straw -bonnet for not to me appertained that suit of wedding raiment -the pearlcoloured robe, the vapoury veil pendent from the usurped -portmanteau. I shut the closet to conceal the strange, wraithlike -apparel it contained which, at this evening hour nine o'clock -gave out certainly a most ghostly shimmer through the shadow -of my apartment. "I will leave you by yourself, white dream," I -said. "I am feverish I hear the wind blowing I will go out of -doors and feel it." -It was not only the hurry of preparation that made me feverish -not only the anticipation of the great change the new life which -was to commence tomorrow both these circumstances had their -share, doubtless, in producing that restless, excited mood which -hurried me forth at this late hour into the darkening grounds but -a third cause influenced my mind more than they. -I had at heart a strange and anxious thought. Something had -happened which I could not comprehend no one knew of or had seen -the event but myself it had taken place the preceding night. Mr. -Rochester that night was absent from home nor was he yet returned -business had called him to a small estate of two or three farms he -possessed thirty miles off business it was requisite he should -settle in person, previous to his meditated departure from England. -I waited now his return eager to disburthen my mind, and to seek -of him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me. Stay till -he comes, reader and, when I disclose my secret to him, you shall -share the confidence. -I sought the orchard, driven to its shelter by the wind, which all -day had blown strong and full from the south, without, however, -bringing a speck of rain. Instead of subsiding as night drew on, -it seemed to augment its rush and deepen its roar the trees blew -steadfastly one way, never writhing round, and scarcely tossing -back their boughs once in an hour so continuous was the strain -bending their branchy heads northward the clouds drifted from -pole to pole, fast following, mass on mass no glimpse of blue -sky had been visible that July day. -It was not without a certain wild pleasure I ran before the wind, -delivering my trouble of mind to the measureless airtorrent thundering -through space. Descending the laurel walk, I faced the wreck of -the chestnuttree it stood up black and riven the trunk, split -down the centre, gasped ghastly. The cloven halves were not broken -from each other, for the firm base and strong roots kept them -unsundered below though community of vitality was destroyed -the sap could flow no more their great boughs on each side were -dead, and next winter's tempests would be sure to fell one or both -to earth as yet, however, they might be said to form one tree -a ruin, but an entire ruin. -"You did right to hold fast to each other," I said as if -the monstersplinters were living things, and could hear me. "I -think, scathed as you look, and charred and scorched, there must -be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesion -at the faithful, honest roots you will never have green leaves -more never more see birds making nests and singing idyls in -your boughs the time of pleasure and love is over with you but -you are not desolate each of you has a comrade to sympathise -with him in his decay." As I looked up at them, the moon appeared -momentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure -her disk was blood red and half overcast she seemed to throw on -me one bewildered, dreary glance, and buried herself again instantly -in the deep drift of cloud. The wind fell, for a second, round -Thornfield but far away over wood and water, poured a wild, -melancholy wail it was sad to listen to, and I ran off again. -Here and there I strayed through the orchard, gathered up the apples -with which the grass round the tree roots was thickly strewn then -I employed myself in dividing the ripe from the unripe I carried -them into the house and put them away in the storeroom. Then -I repaired to the library to ascertain whether the fire was lit, -for, though summer, I knew on such a gloomy evening Mr. Rochester -would like to see a cheerful hearth when he came in yes, the fire -had been kindled some time, and burnt well. I placed his armchair -by the chimneycorner I wheeled the table near it I let down -the curtain, and had the candles brought in ready for lighting. -More restless than ever, when I had completed these arrangements -I could not sit still, nor even remain in the house a little -timepiece in the room and the old clock in the hall simultaneously -struck ten. -"How late it grows" I said. "I will run down to the gates it -is moonlight at intervals I can see a good way on the road. He may -be coming now, and to meet him will save some minutes of suspense." -The wind roared high in the great trees which embowered the gates -but the road as far as I could see, to the right hand and the -left, was all still and solitary save for the shadows of clouds -crossing it at intervals as the moon looked out, it was but a long -pale line, unvaried by one moving speck. -A puerile tear dimmed my eye while I looked a tear of disappointment -and impatience ashamed of it, I wiped it away. I lingered the -moon shut herself wholly within her chamber, and drew close her -curtain of dense cloud the night grew dark rain came driving -fast on the gale. -"I wish he would come I wish he would come" I exclaimed, seized -with hypochondriac foreboding. I had expected his arrival before -tea now it was dark what could keep him? Had an accident happened? -The event of last night again recurred to me. I interpreted it -as a warning of disaster. I feared my hopes were too bright to be -realised and I had enjoyed so much bliss lately that I imagined -my fortune had passed its meridian, and must now decline. -"Well, I cannot return to the house," I thought "I cannot sit by -the fireside, while he is abroad in inclement weather better tire -my limbs than strain my heart I will go forward and meet him." -I set out I walked fast, but not far ere I had measured a quarter -of a mile, I heard the tramp of hoofs a horseman came on, full -gallop a dog ran by his side. Away with evil presentiment It -was he here he was, mounted on Mesrour, followed by Pilot. He -saw me for the moon had opened a blue field in the sky, and rode -in it watery bright he took his hat off, and waved it round his -head. I now ran to meet him. -"There" he exclaimed, as he stretched out his hand and bent from -the saddle "You can't do without me, that is evident. Step on -my boottoe give me both hands mount" -I obeyed joy made me agile I sprang up before him. A hearty -kissing I got for a welcome, and some boastful triumph, which I -swallowed as well as I could. He checked himself in his exultation -to demand, "But is there anything the matter, Janet, that you come -to meet me at such an hour? Is there anything wrong?" -"No, but I thought you would never come. I could not bear to wait -in the house for you, especially with this rain and wind." -"Rain and wind, indeed Yes, you are dripping like a mermaid pull -my cloak round you but I think you are feverish, Jane both your -cheek and hand are burning hot. I ask again, is there anything -the matter? -"Nothing now I am neither afraid nor unhappy." -"Then you have been both?" -"Rather but I'll tell you all about it byandbye, sir and I -daresay you will only laugh at me for my pains." -"I'll laugh at you heartily when tomorrow is past till then I -dare not my prize is not certain. This is you, who have been as -slippery as an eel this last month, and as thorny as a briarrose? -I could not lay a finger anywhere but I was pricked and now I seem -to have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms. You wandered out of -the fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?" -"I wanted you but don't boast. Here we are at Thornfield now -let me get down." -He landed me on the pavement. As John took his horse, and he followed -me into the hall, he told me to make haste and put something dry -on, and then return to him in the library and he stopped me, as -I made for the staircase, to extort a promise that I would not be -long nor was I long in five minutes I rejoined him. I found -him at supper. -"Take a seat and bear me company, Jane please God, it is the last -meal but one you will eat at Thornfield Hall for a long time." -I sat down near him, but told him I could not eat. "Is it because -you have the prospect of a journey before you, Jane? Is it the -thoughts of going to London that takes away your appetite?" -"I cannot see my prospects clearly tonight, sir and I hardly know -what thoughts I have in my head. Everything in life seems unreal." -"Except me I am substantial enough touch me." -"You, sir, are the most phantomlike of all you are a mere dream." -He held out his hand, laughing. "Is that a dream?" said he, placing -it close to my eyes. He had a rounded, muscular, and vigorous -hand, as well as a long, strong arm. -"Yes though I touch it, it is a dream," said I, as I put it down -from before my face. "Sir, have you finished supper?" -"Yes, Jane." -I rang the bell and ordered away the tray. When we were again -alone, I stirred the fire, and then took a low seat at my master's -knee. -"It is near midnight," I said. -"Yes but remember, Jane, you promised to wake with me the night -before my wedding." -"I did and I will keep my promise, for an hour or two at least -I have no wish to go to bed." -"Are all your arrangements complete?" -"All, sir." -"And on my part likewise," he returned, "I have settled everything -and we shall leave Thornfield tomorrow, within halfanhour after -our return from church." -"Very well, sir." -"With what an extraordinary smile you uttered that word 'very -well,' Jane What a bright spot of colour you have on each cheek -and how strangely your eyes glitter Are you well?" -"I believe I am." -"Believe What is the matter? Tell me what you feel." -"I could not, sir no words could tell you what I feel. I wish -this present hour would never end who knows with what fate the -next may come charged?" -"This is hypochondria, Jane. You have been overexcited, or -overfatigued." -"Do you, sir, feel calm and happy?" -"Calm? no but happy to the heart's core." -I looked up at him to read the signs of bliss in his face it was -ardent and flushed. -"Give me your confidence, Jane," he said "relieve your mind of -any weight that oppresses it, by imparting it to me. What do you -fear? that I shall not prove a good husband?" -"It is the idea farthest from my thoughts." -"Are you apprehensive of the new sphere you are about to enter? -of the new life into which you are passing?" -"No." -"You puzzle me, Jane your look and tone of sorrowful audacity -perplex and pain me. I want an explanation." -"Then, sir, listen. You were from home last night?" -"I was I know that and you hinted a while ago at something which -had happened in my absence nothing, probably, of consequence -but, in short, it has disturbed you. Let me hear it. Mrs. Fairfax -has said something, perhaps? or you have overheard the servants -talk? your sensitive selfrespect has been wounded?" -"No, sir." It struck twelve I waited till the timepiece had -concluded its silver chime, and the clock its hoarse, vibrating -stroke, and then I proceeded. -"All day yesterday I was very busy, and very happy in my ceaseless -bustle for I am not, as you seem to think, troubled by any haunting -fears about the new sphere, et cetera I think it a glorious -thing to have the hope of living with you, because I love you. No, -sir, don't caress me now let me talk undisturbed. Yesterday I -trusted well in Providence, and believed that events were working -together for your good and mine it was a fine day, if you recollect -the calmness of the air and sky forbade apprehensions respecting -your safety or comfort on your journey. I walked a little while -on the pavement after tea, thinking of you and I beheld you in -imagination so near me, I scarcely missed your actual presence. -I thought of the life that lay before me YOUR life, sir an -existence more expansive and stirring than my own as much more -so as the depths of the sea to which the brook runs are than the -shallows of its own strait channel. I wondered why moralists call -this world a dreary wilderness for me it blossomed like a rose. -Just at sunset, the air turned cold and the sky cloudy I went in, -Sophie called me upstairs to look at my weddingdress, which they -had just brought and under it in the box I found your present -the veil which, in your princely extravagance, you sent for from -London resolved, I suppose, since I would not have jewels, to -cheat me into accepting something as costly. I smiled as I unfolded -it, and devised how I would tease you about your aristocratic tastes, -and your efforts to masque your plebeian bride in the attributes -of a peeress. I though how I would carry down to you the square -of unembroidered blond I had myself prepared as a covering for my -lowborn head, and ask if that was not good enough for a woman who -could bring her husband neither fortune, beauty, nor connections. -I saw plainly how you would look and heard your impetuous republican -answers, and your haughty disavowal of any necessity on your part -to augment your wealth, or elevate your standing, by marrying either -a purse or a coronet." -"How well you read me, you witch" interposed Mr. Rochester "but -what did you find in the veil besides its embroidery? Did you find -poison, or a dagger, that you look so mournful now?" -"No, no, sir besides the delicacy and richness of the fabric, -I found nothing save Fairfax Rochester's pride and that did not -scare me, because I am used to the sight of the demon. But, sir, -as it grew dark, the wind rose it blew yesterday evening, not as -it blows now wild and high but 'with a sullen, moaning sound' -far more eerie. I wished you were at home. I came into this room, -and the sight of the empty chair and fireless hearth chilled me. -For some time after I went to bed, I could not sleep a sense of -anxious excitement distressed me. The gale still rising, seemed -to my ear to muffle a mournful undersound whether in the house -or abroad I could not at first tell, but it recurred, doubtful -yet doleful at every lull at last I made out it must be some dog -howling at a distance. I was glad when it ceased. On sleeping, I -continued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I continued -also the wish to be with you, and experienced a strange, regretful -consciousness of some barrier dividing us. During all my first -sleep, I was following the windings of an unknown road total -obscurity environed me rain pelted me I was burdened with the -charge of a little child a very small creature, too young and -feeble to walk, and which shivered in my cold arms, and wailed -piteously in my ear. I thought, sir, that you were on the road -a long way before me and I strained every nerve to overtake you, -and made effort on effort to utter your name and entreat you to -stop but my movements were fettered, and my voice still died -away inarticulate while you, I felt, withdrew farther and farther -every moment." -"And these dreams weigh on your spirits now, Jane, when I am close -to you? Little nervous subject Forget visionary woe, and think -only of real happiness You say you love me, Janet yes I will -not forget that and you cannot deny it. THOSE words did not die -inarticulate on your lips. I heard them clear and soft a thought -too solemn perhaps, but sweet as music 'I think it is a glorious -thing to have the hope of living with you, Edward, because I love -you.' Do you love me, Jane? repeat it." -"I do, sir I do, with my whole heart." -"Well," he said, after some minutes' silence, "it is strange but -that sentence has penetrated my breast painfully. Why? I think -because you said it with such an earnest, religious energy, and -because your upward gaze at me now is the very sublime of faith, -truth, and devotion it is too much as if some spirit were near -me. Look wicked, Jane as you know well how to look coin one -of your wild, shy, provoking smiles tell me you hate me tease -me, vex me do anything but move me I would rather be incensed -than saddened." -"I will tease you and vex you to your heart's content, when I have -finished my tale but hear me to the end." -"I thought, Jane, you had told me all. I thought I had found the -source of your melancholy in a dream." -I shook my head. "What is there more? But I will not believe -it to be anything important. I warn you of incredulity beforehand. -Go on." -The disquietude of his air, the somewhat apprehensive impatience -of his manner, surprised me but I proceeded. -"I dreamt another dream, sir that Thornfield Hall was a dreary -ruin, the retreat of bats and owls. I thought that of all the -stately front nothing remained but a shelllike wall, very high and -very fragilelooking. I wandered, on a moonlight night, through -the grassgrown enclosure within here I stumbled over a marble -hearth, and there over a fallen fragment of cornice. Wrapped up -in a shawl, I still carried the unknown little child I might not -lay it down anywhere, however tired were my arms however much its -weight impeded my progress, I must retain it. I heard the gallop -of a horse at a distance on the road I was sure it was you and -you were departing for many years and for a distant country. I -climbed the thin wall with frantic perilous haste, eager to catch -one glimpse of you from the top the stones rolled from under my -feet, the ivy branches I grasped gave way, the child clung round -my neck in terror, and almost strangled me at last I gained the -summit. I saw you like a speck on a white track, lessening every -moment. The blast blew so strong I could not stand. I sat down -on the narrow ledge I hushed the scared infant in my lap you -turned an angle of the road I bent forward to take a last look -the wall crumbled I was shaken the child rolled from my knee, I -lost my balance, fell, and woke." -"Now, Jane, that is all." -"All the preface, sir the tale is yet to come. On waking, a -gleam dazzled my eyes I thought Oh, it is daylight But I was -mistaken it was only candlelight. Sophie, I supposed, had come -in. There was a light in the dressingtable, and the door of the -closet, where, before going to bed, I had hung my weddingdress -and veil, stood open I heard a rustling there. I asked, 'Sophie, -what are you doing?' No one answered but a form emerged from the -closet it took the light, held it aloft, and surveyed the garments -pendent from the portmanteau. 'Sophie Sophie' I again cried -and still it was silent. I had risen up in bed, I bent forward -first surprise, then bewilderment, came over me and then my blood -crept cold through my veins. Mr. Rochester, this was not Sophie, -it was not Leah, it was not Mrs. Fairfax it was not no, I was -sure of it, and am still it was not even that strange woman, -Grace Poole." -"It must have been one of them," interrupted my master. -"No, sir, I solemnly assure you to the contrary. The shape -standing before me had never crossed my eyes within the precincts -of Thornfield Hall before the height, the contour were new to me." -"Describe it, Jane." -"It seemed, sir, a woman, tall and large, with thick and dark hair -hanging long down her back. I know not what dress she had on -it was white and straight but whether gown, sheet, or shroud, I -cannot tell." -"Did you see her face?" -"Not at first. But presently she took my veil from its place she -held it up, gazed at it long, and then she threw it over her own -head, and turned to the mirror. At that moment I saw the reflection -of the visage and features quite distinctly in the dark oblong -glass." -"And how were they?" -"Fearful and ghastly to me oh, sir, I never saw a face like it -It was a discoloured face it was a savage face. I wish I could -forget the roll of the red eyes and the fearful blackened inflation -of the lineaments" -"Ghosts are usually pale, Jane." -"This, sir, was purple the lips were swelled and dark the brow -furrowed the black eyebrows widely raised over the bloodshot -eyes. Shall I tell you of what it reminded me?" -"You may." -"Of the foul German spectre the Vampyre." -"Ah what did it do?" -"Sir, it removed my veil from its gaunt head, rent it in two parts, -and flinging both on the floor, trampled on them." -"Afterwards?" -"It drew aside the windowcurtain and looked out perhaps it saw -dawn approaching, for, taking the candle, it retreated to the door. -Just at my bedside, the figure stopped the fiery eyes glared upon -me she thrust up her candle close to my face, and extinguished -it under my eyes. I was aware her lurid visage flamed over mine, -and I lost consciousness for the second time in my life only -the second time I became insensible from terror." -"Who was with you when you revived?" -"No one, sir, but the broad day. I rose, bathed my head and face -in water, drank a long draught felt that though enfeebled I was -not ill, and determined that to none but you would I impart this -vision. Now, sir, tell me who and what that woman was?" -"The creature of an overstimulated brain that is certain. I must -be careful of you, my treasure nerves like yours were not made -for rough handling." -"Sir, depend on it, my nerves were not in fault the thing was -real the transaction actually took place." -"And your previous dreams, were they real too? Is Thornfield -Hall a ruin? Am I severed from you by insuperable obstacles? Am -I leaving you without a tear without a kiss without a word?" -"Not yet." -"Am I about to do it? Why, the day is already commenced which is -to bind us indissolubly and when we are once united, there shall -be no recurrence of these mental terrors I guarantee that." -"Mental terrors, sir I wish I could believe them to be only such -I wish it more now than ever since even you cannot explain to me -the mystery of that awful visitant." -"And since I cannot do it, Jane, it must have been unreal." -"But, sir, when I said so to myself on rising this morning, and -when I looked round the room to gather courage and comfort from the -cheerful aspect of each familiar object in full daylight, there -on the carpet I saw what gave the distinct lie to my hypothesis, -the veil, torn from top to bottom in two halves" -I felt Mr. Rochester start and shudder he hastily flung his arms -round me. "Thank God" he exclaimed, "that if anything malignant -did come near you last night, it was only the veil that was harmed. -Oh, to think what might have happened" -He drew his breath short, and strained me so close to him, I could -scarcely pant. After some minutes' silence, he continued, cheerily -"Now, Janet, I'll explain to you all about it. It was half dream, -half reality. A woman did, I doubt not, enter your room and that -woman was must have been Grace Poole. You call her a strange -being yourself from all you know, you have reason so to call -her what did she do to me? what to Mason? In a state between -sleeping and waking, you noticed her entrance and her actions -but feverish, almost delirious as you were, you ascribed to her -a goblin appearance different from her own the long dishevelled -hair, the swelled black face, the exaggerated stature, were figments -of imagination results of nightmare the spiteful tearing of the -veil was real and it is like her. I see you would ask why I keep -such a woman in my house when we have been married a year and a -day, I will tell you but not now. Are you satisfied, Jane? Do -you accept my solution of the mystery?" -I reflected, and in truth it appeared to me the only possible one -satisfied I was not, but to please him I endeavoured to appear so -relieved, I certainly did feel so I answered him with a contented -smile. And now, as it was long past one, I prepared to leave him. -"Does not Sophie sleep with Adele in the nursery?" he asked, as -I lit my candle. -"Yes, sir." -"And there is room enough in Adele's little bed for you. You must -share it with her tonight, Jane it is no wonder that the incident -you have related should make you nervous, and I would rather you -did not sleep alone promise me to go to the nursery." -"I shall be very glad to do so, sir." -"And fasten the door securely on the inside. Wake Sophie when you -go upstairs, under pretence of requesting her to rouse you in good -time tomorrow for you must be dressed and have finished breakfast -before eight. And now, no more sombre thoughts chase dull care -away, Janet. Don't you hear to what soft whispers the wind has -fallen? and there is no more beating of rain against the windowpanes -look here" he lifted up the curtain "it is a lovely night" -It was. Half heaven was pure and stainless the clouds, now -trooping before the wind, which had shifted to the west, were filing -off eastward in long, silvered columns. The moon shone peacefully. -"Well," said Mr. Rochester, gazing inquiringly into my eyes, "how -is my Janet now?" -"The night is serene, sir and so am I." -"And you will not dream of separation and sorrow tonight but of -happy love and blissful union." -This prediction was but half fulfilled I did not indeed dream of -sorrow, but as little did I dream of joy for I never slept at all. -With little Adele in my arms, I watched the slumber of childhood -so tranquil, so passionless, so innocent and waited for the -coming day all my life was awake and astir in my frame and as -soon as the sun rose I rose too. I remember Adele clung to me as I -left her I remember I kissed her as I loosened her little hands -from my neck and I cried over her with strange emotion, and quitted -her because I feared my sobs would break her still sound repose. -She seemed the emblem of my past life and he I was now to array -myself to meet, the dread, but adored, type of my unknown future -day. -CHAPTER XXVI -Sophie came at seven to dress me she was very long indeed in -accomplishing her task so long that Mr. Rochester, grown, I suppose, -impatient of my delay, sent up to ask why I did not come. She was -just fastening my veil the plain square of blond after all to -my hair with a brooch I hurried from under her hands as soon as -I could. -"Stop" she cried in French. "Look at yourself in the mirror -you have not taken one peep." -So I turned at the door I saw a robed and veiled figure, so -unlike my usual self that it seemed almost the image of a stranger. -"Jane" called a voice, and I hastened down. I was received at -the foot of the stairs by Mr. Rochester. -"Lingerer" he said, "my brain is on fire with impatience, and -you tarry so long" -He took me into the diningroom, surveyed me keenly all over, -pronounced me "fair as a lily, and not only the pride of his life, -but the desire of his eyes," and then telling me he would give me -but ten minutes to eat some breakfast, he rang the bell. One of -his lately hired servants, a footman, answered it. -"Is John getting the carriage ready?" -"Yes, sir." -"Is the luggage brought down?" -"They are bringing it down, sir." -"Go you to the church see if Mr. Wood the clergyman and the -clerk are there return and tell me." -The church, as the reader knows, was but just beyond the gates -the footman soon returned. -"Mr. Wood is in the vestry, sir, putting on his surplice." -"And the carriage?" -"The horses are harnessing." -"We shall not want it to go to church but it must be ready the -moment we return all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped -on, and the coachman in his seat." -"Yes, sir." -"Jane, are you ready?" -I rose. There were no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no relatives to -wait for or marshal none but Mr. Rochester and I. Mrs. Fairfax -stood in the hall as we passed. I would fain have spoken to her, -but my hand was held by a grasp of iron I was hurried along by a -stride I could hardly follow and to look at Mr. Rochester's face -was to feel that not a second of delay would be tolerated for any -purpose. I wonder what other bridegroom ever looked as he did -so bent up to a purpose, so grimly resolute or who, under such -steadfast brows, ever revealed such flaming and flashing eyes. -I know not whether the day was fair or foul in descending the drive, -I gazed neither on sky nor earth my heart was with my eyes and -both seemed migrated into Mr. Rochester's frame. I wanted to see -the invisible thing on which, as we went along, he appeared to -fasten a glance fierce and fell. I wanted to feel the thoughts -whose force he seemed breasting and resisting. -At the churchyard wicket he stopped he discovered I was quite out -of breath. "Am I cruel in my love?" he said. "Delay an instant -lean on me, Jane." -And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God -rising calm before me, of a rook wheeling round the steeple, of a -ruddy morning sky beyond. I remember something, too, of the green -gravemounds and I have not forgotten, either, two figures of -strangers straying amongst the low hillocks and reading the mementoes -graven on the few mossy headstones. I noticed them, because, -as they saw us, they passed round to the back of the church and -I doubted not they were going to enter by the sideaisle door and -witness the ceremony. By Mr. Rochester they were not observed he -was earnestly looking at my face from which the blood had, I daresay, -momentarily fled for I felt my forehead dewy, and my cheeks and -lips cold. When I rallied, which I soon did, he walked gently with -me up the path to the porch. -We entered the quiet and humble temple the priest waited in his -white surplice at the lowly altar, the clerk beside him. All was -still two shadows only moved in a remote corner. My conjecture -had been correct the strangers had slipped in before us, and they -now stood by the vault of the Rochesters, their backs towards us, -viewing through the rails the old timestained marble tomb, where -a kneeling angel guarded the remains of Damer de Rochester, slain -at Marston Moor in the time of the civil wars, and of Elizabeth, -his wife. -Our place was taken at the communion rails. Hearing a cautious -step behind me, I glanced over my shoulder one of the strangers -a gentleman, evidently was advancing up the chancel. The -service began. The explanation of the intent of matrimony was gone -through and then the clergyman came a step further forward, and, -bending slightly towards Mr. Rochester, went on. -"I require and charge you both as ye will answer at the dreadful -day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, -that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully -be joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it for be ye -well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than -God's Word doth allow, are not joined together by God, neither is -their matrimony lawful." -He paused, as the custom is. When is the pause after that sentence -ever broken by reply? Not, perhaps, once in a hundred years. And -the clergyman, who had not lifted his eyes from his book, and had -held his breath but for a moment, was proceeding his hand was -already stretched towards Mr. Rochester, as his lips unclosed to -ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?" -when a distinct and near voice said -"The marriage cannot go on I declare the existence of an impediment." -The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute the clerk -did the same Mr. Rochester moved slightly, as if an earthquake had -rolled under his feet taking a firmer footing, and not turning -his head or eyes, he said, "Proceed." -Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word, with -deep but low intonation. Presently Mr. Wood said -"I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been -asserted, and evidence of its truth or falsehood." -"The ceremony is quite broken off," subjoined the voice behind -us. "I am in a condition to prove my allegation an insuperable -impediment to this marriage exists." -Mr. Rochester heard, but heeded not he stood stubborn and rigid, -making no movement but to possess himself of my hand. What a hot -and strong grasp he had and how like quarried marble was his -pale, firm, massive front at this moment How his eye shone, still -watchful, and yet wild beneath -Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" -he asked. "Perhaps it may be got over explained away?" -"Hardly," was the answer. "I have called it insuperable, and I -speak advisedly." -The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails. He continued, -uttering each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly -"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr. -Rochester has a wife now living." -My nerves vibrated to those lowspoken words as they had never -vibrated to thunder my blood felt their subtle violence as it -had never felt frost or fire but I was collected, and in no danger -of swooning. I looked at Mr. Rochester I made him look at me. -His whole face was colourless rock his eye was both spark and -flint. He disavowed nothing he seemed as if he would defy all -things. Without speaking, without smiling, without seeming to -recognise in me a human being, he only twined my waist with his -arm and riveted me to his side. -"Who are you?" he asked of the intruder. -"My name is Briggs, a solicitor of Street, London." -"And you would thrust on me a wife?" -"I would remind you of your lady's existence, sir, which the law -recognises, if you do not." -"Favour me with an account of her with her name, her parentage, -her place of abode." -"Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and -read out in a sort of official, nasal voice -"'I affirm and can prove that on the th of October A.D. a -date of fifteen years back, Edward Fairfax Rochester, of Thornfield -Hall, in the county of , and of Ferndean Manor, in shire, England, -was married to my sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of -Jonas Mason, merchant, and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole, at -church, Spanish Town, Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be -found in the register of that church a copy of it is now in my -possession. Signed, Richard Mason.'" -"That if a genuine document may prove I have been married, -but it does not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife -is still living." -"She was living three months ago," returned the lawyer. -"How do you know?" -"I have a witness to the fact, whose testimony even you, sir, will -scarcely controvert." -"Produce him or go to hell." -"I will produce him first he is on the spot. Mr. Mason, have -the goodness to step forward." -Mr. Rochester, on hearing the name, set his teeth he experienced, -too, a sort of strong convulsive quiver near to him as I was, I -felt the spasmodic movement of fury or despair run through his frame. -The second stranger, who had hitherto lingered in the background, -now drew near a pale face looked over the solicitor's shoulder -yes, it was Mason himself. Mr. Rochester turned and glared at -him. His eye, as I have often said, was a black eye it had now -a tawny, nay, a bloody light in its gloom and his face flushed -olive cheek and hueless forehead received a glow as from spreading, -ascending heartfire and he stirred, lifted his strong arm he -could have struck Mason, dashed him on the churchfloor, shocked -by ruthless blow the breath from his body but Mason shrank away, -and cried faintly, "Good God" Contempt fell cool on Mr. Rochester -his passion died as if a blight had shrivelled it up he only -asked "What have YOU to say?" -An inaudible reply escaped Mason's white lips. -"The devil is in it if you cannot answer distinctly. I again -demand, what have you to say?" -"Sir sir," interrupted the clergyman, "do not forget you are in -a sacred place." Then addressing Mason, he inquired gently, "Are -you aware, sir, whether or not this gentleman's wife is still -living?" -"Courage," urged the lawyer, "speak out." -"She is now living at Thornfield Hall," said Mason, in more articulate -tones "I saw her there last April. I am her brother." -"At Thornfield Hall" ejaculated the clergyman. "Impossible I -am an old resident in this neighbourhood, sir, and I never heard -of a Mrs. Rochester at Thornfield Hall." -I saw a grim smile contort Mr. Rochester's lips, and he muttered -"No, by God I took care that none should hear of it -or of her under that name." He mused for ten minutes he held -counsel with himself he formed his resolve, and announced it -"Enough all shall bolt out at once, like the bullet from the -barrel. Wood, close your book and take off your surplice John -Green to the clerk, leave the church there will be no wedding -today." The man obeyed. -Mr. Rochester continued, hardily and recklessly "Bigamy is an -ugly word I meant, however, to be a bigamist but fate has out -manoeuvred me, or Providence has checked me, perhaps the last. -I am little better than a devil at this moment and, as my pastor -there would tell me, deserve no doubt the sternest judgments of -God, even to the quenchless fire and deathless worm. Gentlemen, -my plan is broken up what this lawyer and his client say is true -I have been married, and the woman to whom I was married lives -You say you never heard of a Mrs. Rochester at the house up yonder, -Wood but I daresay you have many a time inclined your ear to gossip -about the mysterious lunatic kept there under watch and ward. Some -have whispered to you that she is my bastard halfsister some, -my castoff mistress. I now inform you that she is my wife, whom -I married fifteen years ago, Bertha Mason by name sister of -this resolute personage, who is now, with his quivering limbs and -white cheeks, showing you what a stout heart men may bear. Cheer -up, Dick never fear me I'd almost as soon strike a woman -as you. Bertha Mason is mad and she came of a mad family idiots -and maniacs through three generations Her mother, the Creole, -was both a madwoman and a drunkard as I found out after I had -wed the daughter for they were silent on family secrets before. -Bertha, like a dutiful child, copied her parent in both points. -I had a charming partner pure, wise, modest you can fancy I -was a happy man. I went through rich scenes Oh my experience -has been heavenly, if you only knew it But I owe you no further -explanation. Briggs, Wood, Mason, I invite you all to come up to -the house and visit Mrs. Poole's patient, and MY WIFE You shall -see what sort of a being I was cheated into espousing, and judge -whether or not I had a right to break the compact, and seek sympathy -with something at least human. This girl," he continued, looking -at me, "knew no more than you, Wood, of the disgusting secret -she thought all was fair and legal and never dreamt she was going -to be entrapped into a feigned union with a defrauded wretch, -already bound to a bad, mad, and embruted partner Come all of -you follow" -Still holding me fast, he left the church the three gentlemen -came after. At the front door of the hall we found the carriage. -"Take it back to the coachhouse, John," said Mr. Rochester coolly -"it will not be wanted today." -At our entrance, Mrs. Fairfax, Adele, Sophie, Leah, advanced to -meet and greet us. -"To the rightabout every soul" cried the master "away with -your congratulations Who wants them? Not I they are fifteen -years too late" -He passed on and ascended the stairs, still holding my hand, and -still beckoning the gentlemen to follow him, which they did. We -mounted the first staircase, passed up the gallery, proceeded to -the third storey the low, black door, opened by Mr. Rochester's -masterkey, admitted us to the tapestried room, with its great bed -and its pictorial cabinet. -"You know this place, Mason," said our guide "she bit and stabbed -you here." -He lifted the hangings from the wall, uncovering the second door -this, too, he opened. In a room without a window, there burnt a -fire guarded by a high and strong fender, and a lamp suspended from -the ceiling by a chain. Grace Poole bent over the fire, apparently -cooking something in a saucepan. In the deep shade, at the farther -end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it -was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight, -tell it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours it snatched and growled -like some strange wild animal but it was covered with clothing, -and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head -and face. -"Goodmorrow, Mrs. Poole" said Mr. Rochester. "How are you? and -how is your charge today?" -"We're tolerable, sir, I thank you," replied Grace, lifting the -boiling mess carefully on to the hob "rather snappish, but not -'rageous." -A fierce cry seemed to give the lie to her favourable report the -clothed hyena rose up, and stood tall on its hindfeet. -"Ah sir, she sees you" exclaimed Grace "you'd better not -stay." -"Only a few moments, Grace you must allow me a few moments." -"Take care then, sir for God's sake, take care" -The maniac bellowed she parted her shaggy locks from her visage, -and gazed wildly at her visitors. I recognised well that purple -face, those bloated features. Mrs. Poole advanced. -"Keep out of the way," said Mr. Rochester, thrusting her aside -"she has no knife now, I suppose, and I'm on my guard." -"One never knows what she has, sir she is so cunning it is not -in mortal discretion to fathom her craft." -"We had better leave her," whispered Mason. -"Go to the devil" was his brotherinlaw's recommendation. -"'Ware" cried Grace. The three gentlemen retreated simultaneously. -Mr. Rochester flung me behind him the lunatic sprang and grappled -his throat viciously, and laid her teeth to his cheek they -struggled. She was a big woman, in stature almost equalling her -husband, and corpulent besides she showed virile force in the -contest more than once she almost throttled him, athletic as -he was. He could have settled her with a wellplanted blow but -he would not strike he would only wrestle. At last he mastered -her arms Grace Poole gave him a cord, and he pinioned them behind -her with more rope, which was at hand, he bound her to a chair. -The operation was performed amidst the fiercest yells and the most -convulsive plunges. Mr. Rochester then turned to the spectators -he looked at them with a smile both acrid and desolate. -"That is MY WIFE," said he. "Such is the sole conjugal embrace -I am ever to know such are the endearments which are to solace -my leisure hours And THIS is what I wished to have" laying his -hand on my shoulder "this young girl, who stands so grave and -quiet at the mouth of hell, looking collectedly at the gambols of -a demon, I wanted her just as a change after that fierce ragout. -Wood and Briggs, look at the difference Compare these clear eyes -with the red balls yonder this face with that mask this form -with that bulk then judge me, priest of the gospel and man of the -law, and remember with what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged -Off with you now. I must shut up my prize." -We all withdrew. Mr. Rochester stayed a moment behind us, to give -some further order to Grace Poole. The solicitor addressed me as -he descended the stair. -"You, madam," said he, "are cleared from all blame your uncle -will be glad to hear it if, indeed, he should be still living -when Mr. Mason returns to Madeira." -"My uncle What of him? Do you know him?" -"Mr. Mason does. Mr. Eyre has been the Funchal correspondent of -his house for some years. When your uncle received your letter -intimating the contemplated union between yourself and Mr. Rochester, -Mr. Mason, who was staying at Madeira to recruit his health, on his -way back to Jamaica, happened to be with him. Mr. Eyre mentioned -the intelligence for he knew that my client here was acquainted -with a gentleman of the name of Rochester. Mr. Mason, astonished -and distressed as you may suppose, revealed the real state of -matters. Your uncle, I am sorry to say, is now on a sick bed from -which, considering the nature of his disease decline and the -stage it has reached, it is unlikely he will ever rise. He could -not then hasten to England himself, to extricate you from the snare -into which you had fallen, but he implored Mr. Mason to lose no -time in taking steps to prevent the false marriage. He referred -him to me for assistance. I used all despatch, and am thankful -I was not too late as you, doubtless, must be also. Were I not -morally certain that your uncle will be dead ere you reach Madeira, -I would advise you to accompany Mr. Mason back but as it is, I -think you had better remain in England till you can hear further, -either from or of Mr. Eyre. Have we anything else to stay for?" -he inquired of Mr. Mason. -"No, no let us be gone," was the anxious reply and without -waiting to take leave of Mr. Rochester, they made their exit at -the hall door. The clergyman stayed to exchange a few sentences, -either of admonition or reproof, with his haughty parishioner this -duty done, he too departed. -I heard him go as I stood at the halfopen door of my own room, to -which I had now withdrawn. The house cleared, I shut myself in, -fastened the bolt that none might intrude, and proceeded not to -weep, not to mourn, I was yet too calm for that, but mechanically -to take off the wedding dress, and replace it by the stuff gown I -had worn yesterday, as I thought, for the last time. I then sat -down I felt weak and tired. I leaned my arms on a table, and -my head dropped on them. And now I thought till now I had only -heard, seen, moved followed up and down where I was led or dragged -watched event rush on event, disclosure open beyond disclosure -but NOW, I THOUGHT. -The morning had been a quiet morning enough all except the brief -scene with the lunatic the transaction in the church had not been -noisy there was no explosion of passion, no loud altercation, no -dispute, no defiance or challenge, no tears, no sobs a few words -had been spoken, a calmly pronounced objection to the marriage -made some stern, short questions put by Mr. Rochester answers, -explanations given, evidence adduced an open admission of the -truth had been uttered by my master then the living proof had been -seen the intruders were gone, and all was over. -I was in my own room as usual just myself, without obvious -change nothing had smitten me, or scathed me, or maimed me. And -yet where was the Jane Eyre of yesterday? where was her life? -where were her prospects? -Jane Eyre, who had been an ardent, expectant woman almost -a bride, was a cold, solitary girl again her life was pale her -prospects were desolate. A Christmas frost had come at midsummer -a white December storm had whirled over June ice glazed the ripe -apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses on hayfield and cornfield lay -a frozen shroud lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, -today were pathless with untrodden snow and the woods, which -twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the -tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pineforests in wintry -Norway. My hopes were all dead struck with a subtle doom, such -as, in one night, fell on all the firstborn in the land of Egypt. -I looked on my cherished wishes, yesterday so blooming and glowing -they lay stark, chill, livid corpses that could never revive. I -looked at my love that feeling which was my master's which he -had created it shivered in my heart, like a suffering child in a -cold cradle sickness and anguish had seized it it could not seek -Mr. Rochester's arms it could not derive warmth from his breast. -Oh, never more could it turn to him for faith was blighted -confidence destroyed Mr. Rochester was not to me what he had -been for he was not what I had thought him. I would not ascribe -vice to him I would not say he had betrayed me but the attribute -of stainless truth was gone from his idea, and from his presence I -must go THAT I perceived well. When how whither, I could -not yet discern but he himself, I doubted not, would hurry me from -Thornfield. Real affection, it seemed, he could not have for me -it had been only fitful passion that was balked he would want me -no more. I should fear even to cross his path now my view must -be hateful to him. Oh, how blind had been my eyes How weak my -conduct -My eyes were covered and closed eddying darkness seemed to swim -round me, and reflection came in as black and confused a flow. -Selfabandoned, relaxed, and effortless, I seemed to have laid me -down in the driedup bed of a great river I heard a flood loosened -in remote mountains, and felt the torrent come to rise I had no -will, to flee I had no strength. I lay faint, longing to be dead. -One idea only still throbbed lifelike within me a remembrance -of God it begot an unuttered prayer these words went wandering -up and down in my rayless mind, as something that should -be whispered, but no energy was found to express them -"Be not far from me, for trouble is near there is none to help." -It was near and as I had lifted no petition to Heaven to avert it -as I had neither joined my hands, nor bent my knees, nor moved -my lips it came in full heavy swing the torrent poured over -me. The whole consciousness of my life lorn, my love lost, my -hope quenched, my faith deathstruck, swayed full and mighty above -me in one sullen mass. That bitter hour cannot be described in -truth, "the waters came into my soul I sank in deep mire I felt -no standing I came into deep waters the floods overflowed me." -CHAPTER XXVII -Some time in the afternoon I raised my head, and looking round -and seeing the western sun gilding the sign of its decline on the -wall, I asked, "What am I to do?" -But the answer my mind gave "Leave Thornfield at once" was -so prompt, so dread, that I stopped my ears. I said I could not -bear such words now. "That I am not Edward Rochester's bride is -the least part of my woe," I alleged "that I have wakened out of -most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror -I could bear and master but that I must leave him decidedly, -instantly, entirely, is intolerable. I cannot do it." -But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it and foretold -that I should do it. I wrestled with my own resolution I wanted -to be weak that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering -I saw laid out for me and Conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion -by the throat, told her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her -dainty foot in the slough, and swore that with that arm of iron he -would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony. -"Let me be torn away," then I cried. "Let another help me" -"No you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you you shall -yourself pluck out your right eye yourself cut off your right hand -your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it." -I rose up suddenly, terrorstruck at the solitude which so ruthless -a judge haunted, at the silence which so awful a voice filled. -My head swam as I stood erect. I perceived that I was sickening -from excitement and inanition neither meat nor drink had passed my -lips that day, for I had taken no breakfast. And, with a strange -pang, I now reflected that, long as I had been shut up here, no -message had been sent to ask how I was, or to invite me to come -down not even little Adele had tapped at the door not even Mrs. -Fairfax had sought me. "Friends always forget those whom fortune -forsakes," I murmured, as I undrew the bolt and passed out. I -stumbled over an obstacle my head was still dizzy, my sight was -dim, and my limbs were feeble. I could not soon recover myself. -I fell, but not on to the ground an outstretched arm caught me. -I looked up I was supported by Mr. Rochester, who sat in a chair -across my chamber threshold. -"You come out at last," he said. "Well, I have been waiting for -you long, and listening yet not one movement have I heard, nor -one sob five minutes more of that deathlike hush, and I should -have forced the lock like a burglar. So you shun me? you shut -yourself up and grieve alone I would rather you had come and -upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate. I expected a -scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears only -I wanted them to be shed on my breast now a senseless floor has -received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err you have -not wept at all I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace -of tears. I suppose, then, your heart has been weeping blood?" -"Well, Jane not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter nothing -poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion? You sit -quietly where I have placed you, and regard me with a weary, passive -look." -"Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. If the man who had but -one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of -his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some -mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his -bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive -me?" -Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot. There was -such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such -manly energy in his manner and besides, there was such unchanged -love in his whole look and mien I forgave him all yet not in -words, not outwardly only at my heart's core. -"You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?" ere long he inquired wistfully -wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, the -result rather of weakness than of will. -"Yes, sir." -"Then tell me so roundly and sharply don't spare me." -"I cannot I am tired and sick. I want some water." He heaved -a sort of shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me -downstairs. At first I did not know to what room he had borne me -all was cloudy to my glazed sight presently I felt the reviving -warmth of a fire for, summer as it was, I had become icy cold in -my chamber. He put wine to my lips I tasted it and revived then -I ate something he offered me, and was soon myself. I was in the -library sitting in his chair he was quite near. "If I could -go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be well -for me," I thought "then I should not have to make the effort of -cracking my heartstrings in rending them from among Mr. Rochester's. -I must leave him, it appears. I do not want to leave him I -cannot leave him." -"How are you now, Jane?" -"Much better, sir I shall be well soon." -"Taste the wine again, Jane." -I obeyed him then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, -and looked at me attentively. Suddenly he turned away, with an -inarticulate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind -he walked fast through the room and came back he stooped towards -me as if to kiss me but I remembered caresses were now forbidden. -I turned my face away and put his aside. -"What How is this?" he exclaimed hastily. "Oh, I know you -won't kiss the husband of Bertha Mason? You consider my arms filled -and my embraces appropriated?" -"At any rate, there is neither room nor claim for me, sir." -"Why, Jane? I will spare you the trouble of much talking I will -answer for you Because I have a wife already, you would reply. -I guess rightly?" -"Yes." -"If you think so, you must have a strange opinion of me you must -regard me as a plotting profligate a base and low rake who -has been simulating disinterested love in order to draw you into -a snare deliberately laid, and strip you of honour and rob you of -self respect. What do you say to that? I see you can say nothing -in the first place, you are faint still, and have enough to do -to draw your breath in the second place, you cannot yet accustom -yourself to accuse and revile me, and besides, the floodgates of -tears are opened, and they would rush out if you spoke much and -you have no desire to expostulate, to upbraid, to make a scene -you are thinking how TO ACT TALKING you consider is of no use. -I know you I am on my guard." -"Sir, I do not wish to act against you," I said and my unsteady -voice warned me to curtail my sentence. -"Not in your sense of the word, but in mine you are scheming to -destroy me. You have as good as said that I am a married man -as a married man you will shun me, keep out of my way just now -you have refused to kiss me. You intend to make yourself a complete -stranger to me to live under this roof only as Adele's governess -if ever I say a friendly word to you, if ever a friendly feeling -inclines you again to me, you will say, 'That man had nearly -made me his mistress I must be ice and rock to him' and ice and -rock you will accordingly become." -I cleared and steadied my voice to reply "All is changed about me, -sir I must change too there is no doubt of that and to avoid -fluctuations of feeling, and continual combats with recollections -and associations, there is only one way Adele must have a new -governess, sir." -"Oh, Adele will go to school I have settled that already nor do -I mean to torment you with the hideous associations and recollections -of Thornfield Hall this accursed place this tent of Achan -this insolent vault, offering the ghastliness of living death to -the light of the open sky this narrow stone hell, with its one -real fiend, worse than a legion of such as we imagine. Jane, you -shall not stay here, nor will I. I was wrong ever to bring you to -Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was haunted. I charged -them to conceal from you, before I ever saw you, all knowledge of -the curse of the place merely because I feared Adele never would -have a governess to stay if she knew with what inmate she was housed, -and my plans would not permit me to remove the maniac elsewhere -though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired -and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, -had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the -heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. -Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge -but to each villain his own vice and mine is not a tendency to -indirect assassination, even of what I most hate. -"Concealing the madwoman's neighbourhood from you, however, was -something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down -near a upastree that demon's vicinage is poisoned, and always -was. But I'll shut up Thornfield Hall I'll nail up the front -door and board the lower windows I'll give Mrs. Poole two hundred -a year to live here with MY WIFE, as you term that fearful hag -Grace will do much for money, and she shall have her son, the keeper -at Grimsby Retreat, to bear her company and be at hand to give her -aid in the paroxysms, when MY WIFE is prompted by her familiar to -burn people in their beds at night, to stab them, to bite -their flesh from their bones, and so on " -"Sir," I interrupted him, "you are inexorable for that unfortunate -lady you speak of her with hate with vindictive antipathy. -It is cruel she cannot help being mad." -"Jane, my little darling so I will call you, for so you are, you -don't know what you are talking about you misjudge me again it -is not because she is mad I hate her. If you were mad, do you -think I should hate you?" -"I do indeed, sir." -"Then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing -about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your -flesh is as dear to me as my own in pain and sickness it would -still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it -would be my treasure still if you raved, my arms should confine -you, and not a strait waistcoat your grasp, even in fury, would -have a charm for me if you flew at me as wildly as that woman -did this morning, I should receive you in an embrace, at least as -fond as it would be restrictive. I should not shrink from you with -disgust as I did from her in your quiet moments you should have -no watcher and no nurse but me and I could hang over you with -untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return and -never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer -a ray of recognition for me. But why do I follow that train of -ideas? I was talking of removing you from Thornfield. All, you -know, is prepared for prompt departure tomorrow you shall go. I -only ask you to endure one more night under this roof, Jane and -then, farewell to its miseries and terrors for ever I have a -place to repair to, which will be a secure sanctuary from hateful -reminiscences, from unwelcome intrusion even from falsehood and -slander." -"And take Adele with you, sir," I interrupted "she will be a -companion for you." -"What do you mean, Jane? I told you I would send Adele to school -and what do I want with a child for a companion, and not my own -child, a French dancer's bastard? Why do you importune me about -her I say, why do you assign Adele to me for a companion?" -"You spoke of a retirement, sir and retirement and solitude are -dull too dull for you." -"Solitude solitude" he reiterated with irritation. "I see I must -come to an explanation. I don't know what sphynxlike expression -is forming in your countenance. You are to share my solitude. Do -you understand?" -I shook my head it required a degree of courage, excited as he -was becoming, even to risk that mute sign of dissent. He had been -walking fast about the room, and he stopped, as if suddenly rooted -to one spot. He looked at me long and hard I turned my eyes -from him, fixed them on the fire, and tried to assume and maintain -a quiet, collected aspect. -"Now for the hitch in Jane's character," he said at last, speaking -more calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. "The -reel of silk has run smoothly enough so far but I always knew there -would come a knot and a puzzle here it is. Now for vexation, -and exasperation, and endless trouble By God I long to exert -a fraction of Samson's strength, and break the entanglement like -tow" -He recommenced his walk, but soon again stopped, and this time just -before me. -"Jane will you hear reason?" he stooped and approached his -lips to my ear "because, if you won't, I'll try violence." His -voice was hoarse his look that of a man who is just about to -burst an insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license. -I saw that in another moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, -I should be able to do nothing with him. The present the passing -second of time was all I had in which to control and restrain -him a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my -doom, and his. But I was not afraid not in the least. I felt -an inward power a sense of influence, which supported me. The -crisis was perilous but not without its charm such as the Indian, -perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. I took -hold of his clenched hand, loosened the contorted fingers, -and said to him, soothingly -"Sit down I'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you -have to say, whether reasonable or unreasonable." -He sat down but he did not get leave to speak directly. I had -been struggling with tears for some time I had taken great pains -to repress them, because I knew he would not like to see me weep. -Now, however, I considered it well to let them flow as freely -and as long as they liked. If the flood annoyed him, so much the -better. So I gave way and cried heartily. -Soon I heard him earnestly entreating me to be composed. I said -I could not while he was in such a passion. -"But I am not angry, Jane I only love you too well and you had -steeled your little pale face with such a resolute, frozen look, -I could not endure it. Hush, now, and wipe your eyes." -His softened voice announced that he was subdued so I, in my -turn, became calm. Now he made an effort to rest his head on my -shoulder, but I would not permit it. Then he would draw me to him -no. -"Jane Jane" he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it -thrilled along every nerve I had "you don't love me, then? It -was only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Now -that you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil -from my touch as if I were some toad or ape." -These words cut me yet what could I do or I say? I ought probably -to have done or said nothing but I was so tortured by a sense of -remorse at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish -to drop balm where I had wounded. -"I DO love you," I said, "more than ever but I must not show or -indulge the feeling and this is the last time I must express it." -"The last time, Jane What do you think you can live with me, -and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold -and distant?" -"No, sir that I am certain I could not and therefore I see there -is but one way but you will be furious if I mention it." -"Oh, mention it If I storm, you have the art of weeping." -"Mr. Rochester, I must leave you." -"For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your -hair which is somewhat dishevelled and bathe your face which -looks feverish?" -"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my -whole life I must begin a new existence among strange faces and -strange scenes." -"Of course I told you you should. I pass over the madness about -parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to -the new existence, it is all right you shall yet be my wife I -am not married. You shall be Mrs. Rochester both virtually and -nominally. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. You -shall go to a place I have in the south of France a whitewashed -villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live -a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I -wish to lure you into error to make you my mistress. Why did -you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I -shall again become frantic." -His voice and hand quivered his large nostrils dilated his eye -blazed still I dared to speak. -"Sir, your wife is living that is a fact acknowledged this morning -by yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, I should then be -your mistress to say otherwise is sophistical is false." -"Jane, I am not a gentletempered man you forget that I am -not longenduring I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to -me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, -and beware" -He bared his wrist, and offered it to me the blood was forsaking -his cheek and lips, they were growing livid I was distressed on all -hands. To agitate him thus deeply, by a resistance he so abhorred, -was cruel to yield was out of the question. I did what human -beings do instinctively when they are driven to utter extremity -looked for aid to one higher than man the words "God help me" -burst involuntarily from my lips. -"I am a fool" cried Mr. Rochester suddenly. "I keep telling -her I am not married, and do not explain to her why. I forget she -knows nothing of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances -attending my infernal union with her. Oh, I am certain Jane will -agree with me in opinion, when she knows all that I know Just put -your hand in mine, Janet that I may have the evidence of touch -as well as sight, to prove you are near me and I will in a few -words show you the real state of the case. Can you listen to me?" -"Yes, sir for hours if you will." -"I ask only minutes. Jane, did you ever hear or know that I was -not the eldest son of my house that I had once a brother older -than I?" -"I remember Mrs. Fairfax told me so once." -"And did you ever hear that my father was an avaricious, grasping -man?" -"I have understood something to that effect." -"Well, Jane, being so, it was his resolution to keep the property -together he could not bear the idea of dividing his estate -and leaving me a fair portion all, he resolved, should go to my -brother, Rowland. Yet as little could he endure that a son of his -should be a poor man. I must be provided for by a wealthy marriage. -He sought me a partner betimes. Mr. Mason, a West India planter and -merchant, was his old acquaintance. He was certain his possessions -were real and vast he made inquiries. Mr. Mason, he found, had a -son and daughter and he learned from him that he could and would -give the latter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds that sufficed. -When I left college, I was sent out to Jamaica, to espouse a bride -already courted for me. My father said nothing about her money -but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her -beauty and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the -style of Blanche Ingram tall, dark, and majestic. Her family -wished to secure me because I was of a good race and so did she. -They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom -saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. -She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms -and accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her -and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated my senses were excited -and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved -her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of -society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will -not hurry a man to its commission. Her relatives encouraged me -competitors piqued me she allured me a marriage was achieved -almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself -when I think of that act an agony of inward contempt masters -me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her. I -was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her nature I had -marked neither modesty, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement -in her mind or manners and, I married her gross, grovelling, -moleeyed blockhead that I was With less sin I might have But -let me remember to whom I am speaking." -"My bride's mother I had never seen I understood she was dead. -The honeymoon over, I learned my mistake she was only mad, and -shut up in a lunatic asylum. There was a younger brother, too -a complete dumb idiot. The elder one, whom you have seen and whom -I cannot hate, whilst I abhor all his kindred, because he has some -grains of affection in his feeble mind, shown in the continued -interest he takes in his wretched sister, and also in a doglike -attachment he once bore me, will probably be in the same state -one day. My father and my brother Rowland knew all this but they -thought only of the thirty thousand pounds, and joined in the plot -against me." -"These were vile discoveries but except for the treachery -of concealment, I should have made them no subject of reproach to -my wife, even when I found her nature wholly alien to mine, her -tastes obnoxious to me, her cast of mind common, low, narrow, and -singularly incapable of being led to anything higher, expanded -to anything larger when I found that I could not pass a single -evening, nor even a single hour of the day with her in comfort -that kindly conversation could not be sustained between us, because -whatever topic I started, immediately received from her a turn at -once coarse and trite, perverse and imbecile when I perceived -that I should never have a quiet or settled household, because -no servant would bear the continued outbreaks of her violent and -unreasonable temper, or the vexations of her absurd, contradictory, -exacting orders even then I restrained myself I eschewed -upbraiding, I curtailed remonstrance I tried to devour my repentance -and disgust in secret I repressed the deep antipathy I felt. -"Jane, I will not trouble you with abominable details some strong -words shall express what I have to say. I lived with that woman -upstairs four years, and before that time she had tried me indeed -her character ripened and developed with frightful rapidity her -vices sprang up fast and rank they were so strong, only cruelty -could check them, and I would not use cruelty. What a pigmy -intellect she had, and what giant propensities How fearful were -the curses those propensities entailed on me Bertha Mason, the -true daughter of an infamous mother, dragged me through all the -hideous and degrading agonies which must attend a man bound to a -wife at once intemperate and unchaste. -"My brother in the interval was dead, and at the end of the four -years my father died too. I was rich enough now yet poor to -hideous indigence a nature the most gross, impure, depraved I ever -saw, was associated with mine, and called by the law and by society -a part of me. And I could not rid myself of it by any legal -proceedings for the doctors now discovered that MY WIFE was mad -her excesses had prematurely developed the germs of insanity. -Jane, you don't like my narrative you look almost sick shall -I defer the rest to another day?" -"No, sir, finish it now I pity you I do earnestly pity you." -"Pity, Jane, from some people is a noxious and insulting sort of -tribute, which one is justified in hurling back in the teeth of -those who offer it but that is the sort of pity native to callous, -selfish hearts it is a hybrid, egotistical pain at hearing of -woes, crossed with ignorant contempt for those who have endured -them. But that is not your pity, Jane it is not the feeling of -which your whole face is full at this moment with which your eyes -are now almost overflowing with which your heart is heaving -with which your hand is trembling in mine. Your pity, my darling, -is the suffering mother of love its anguish is the very natal -pang of the divine passion. I accept it, Jane let the daughter -have free advent my arms wait to receive her." -"Now, sir, proceed what did you do when you found she was mad?" -"Jane, I approached the verge of despair a remnant of selfrespect -was all that intervened between me and the gulf. In the eyes -of the world, I was doubtless covered with grimy dishonour but I -resolved to be clean in my own sight and to the last I repudiated -the contamination of her crimes, and wrenched myself from connection -with her mental defects. Still, society associated my name and -person with hers I yet saw her and heard her daily something -of her breath faugh mixed with the air I breathed and besides, -I remembered I had once been her husband that recollection was -then, and is now, inexpressibly odious to me moreover, I knew that -while she lived I could never be the husband of another and better -wife and, though five years my senior her family and her father -had lied to me even in the particular of her age, she was likely -to live as long as I, being as robust in frame as she was infirm -in mind. Thus, at the age of twentysix, I was hopeless. -"One night I had been awakened by her yells since the medical -men had pronounced her mad, she had, of course, been shut up -it was a fiery West Indian night one of the description that -frequently precede the hurricanes of those climates. Being unable -to sleep in bed, I got up and opened the window. The air was like -sulphursteams I could find no refreshment anywhere. Mosquitoes -came buzzing in and hummed sullenly round the room the sea, which -I could hear from thence, rumbled dull like an earthquake black -clouds were casting up over it the moon was setting in the waves, -broad and red, like a hot cannonball she threw her last bloody -glance over a world quivering with the ferment of tempest. I was -physically influenced by the atmosphere and scene, and my ears were -filled with the curses the maniac still shrieked out wherein she -momentarily mingled my name with such a tone of demonhate, with -such language no professed harlot ever had a fouler vocabulary -than she though two rooms off, I heard every word the thin -partitions of the West India house opposing but slight obstruction -to her wolfish cries. -"'This life,' said I at last, 'is hell this is the air those -are the sounds of the bottomless pit I have a right to deliver -myself from it if I can. The sufferings of this mortal state will -leave me with the heavy flesh that now cumbers my soul. Of the -fanatic's burning eternity I have no fear there is not a future -state worse than this present one let me break away, and go home -to God' -"I said this whilst I knelt down at, and unlocked a trunk which -contained a brace of loaded pistols I mean to shoot myself. I -only entertained the intention for a moment for, not being insane, -the crisis of exquisite and unalloyed despair, which had originated -the wish and design of selfdestruction, was past in a second. -"A wind fresh from Europe blew over the ocean and rushed through -the open casement the storm broke, streamed, thundered, blazed, -and the air grew pure. I then framed and fixed a resolution. -While I walked under the dripping orangetrees of my wet garden, -and amongst its drenched pomegranates and pineapples, and while -the refulgent dawn of the tropics kindled round me I reasoned -thus, Jane and now listen for it was true Wisdom that consoled -me in that hour, and showed me the right path to follow. -"The sweet wind from Europe was still whispering in the refreshed -leaves, and the Atlantic was thundering in glorious liberty my -heart, dried up and scorched for a long time, swelled to the tone, -and filled with living blood my being longed for renewal my -soul thirsted for a pure draught. I saw hope revive and felt -regeneration possible. From a flowery arch at the bottom of my -garden I gazed over the sea bluer than the sky the old world -was beyond clear prospects opened thus -"'Go,' said Hope, 'and live again in Europe there it is not known -what a sullied name you bear, nor what a filthy burden is bound -to you. You may take the maniac with you to England confine her -with due attendance and precautions at Thornfield then travel -yourself to what clime you will, and form what new tie you like. -That woman, who has so abused your longsuffering, so sullied your -name, so outraged your honour, so blighted your youth, is not your -wife, nor are you her husband. See that she is cared for as her -condition demands, and you have done all that God and humanity -require of you. Let her identity, her connection with yourself, -be buried in oblivion you are bound to impart them to no living -being. Place her in safety and comfort shelter her degradation -with secrecy, and leave her.' -"I acted precisely on this suggestion. My father and brother had -not made my marriage known to their acquaintance because, in the -very first letter I wrote to apprise them of the union having -already begun to experience extreme disgust of its consequences, -and, from the family character and constitution, seeing a hideous -future opening to me I added an urgent charge to keep it -secret and very soon the infamous conduct of the wife my father -had selected for me was such as to make him blush to own her as his -daughterinlaw. Far from desiring to publish the connection, he -became as anxious to conceal it as myself. -"To England, then, I conveyed her a fearful voyage I had with -such a monster in the vessel. Glad was I when I at last got her -to Thornfield, and saw her safely lodged in that thirdstorey room, -of whose secret inner cabinet she has now for ten years made a wild -beast's den a goblin's cell. I had some trouble in finding an -attendant for her, as it was necessary to select one on whose fidelity -dependence could be placed for her ravings would inevitably betray -my secret besides, she had lucid intervals of days sometimes -weeks which she filled up with abuse of me. At last I hired -Grace Poole from the Grimbsy Retreat. She and the surgeon, Carter -who dressed Mason's wounds that night he was stabbed and worried, -are the only two I have ever admitted to my confidence. Mrs. Fairfax -may indeed have suspected something, but she could have gained no -precise knowledge as to facts. Grace has, on the whole, proved a -good keeper though, owing partly to a fault of her own, of which -it appears nothing can cure her, and which is incident to her -harassing profession, her vigilance has been more than once lulled -and baffled. The lunatic is both cunning and malignant she has -never failed to take advantage of her guardian's temporary lapses -once to secrete the knife with which she stabbed her brother, and -twice to possess herself of the key of her cell, and issue therefrom -in the nighttime. On the first of these occasions, she perpetrated -the attempt to burn me in my bed on the second, she paid that -ghastly visit to you. I thank Providence, who watched over you, -that she then spent her fury on your wedding apparel, which perhaps -brought back vague reminiscences of her own bridal days but on what -might have happened, I cannot endure to reflect. When I think of -the thing which flew at my throat this morning, hanging its black -and scarlet visage over the nest of my dove, my blood curdles." -"And what, sir," I asked, while he paused, "did you do when you -had settled her here? Where did you go?" -"What did I do, Jane? I transformed myself into a willo'thewisp. -Where did I go? I pursued wanderings as wild as those of the -Marchspirit. I sought the Continent, and went devious through -all its lands. My fixed desire was to seek and find a good and -intelligent woman, whom I could love a contrast to the -fury I left at Thornfield " -"But you could not marry, sir." -"I had determined and was convinced that I could and ought. It -was not my original intention to deceive, as I have deceived you. -I meant to tell my tale plainly, and make my proposals openly and -it appeared to me so absolutely rational that I should be considered -free to love and be loved, I never doubted some woman might be found -willing and able to understand my case and accept me, in spite of -the curse with which I was burdened." -"Well, sir?" -"When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You -open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a -restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough -for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart. But -before I go on, tell me what you mean by your 'Well, sir?' It is -a small phrase very frequent with you and which many a time has -drawn me on and on through interminable talk I don't very well -know why." -"I mean, What next? How did you proceed? What came of such an -event?" -"Precisely and what do you wish to know now?" -"Whether you found any one you liked whether you asked her to -marry you and what she said." -"I can tell you whether I found any one I liked, and whether I -asked her to marry me but what she said is yet to be recorded in -the book of Fate. For ten long years I roved about, living first -in one capital, then another sometimes in St. Petersburg oftener -in Paris occasionally in Rome, Naples, and Florence. Provided -with plenty of money and the passport of an old name, I could choose -my own society no circles were closed against me. I sought my -ideal of a woman amongst English ladies, French countesses, Italian -signoras, and German grafinnen. I could not find her. Sometimes, -for a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a glance, heard a tone, -beheld a form, which announced the realisation of my dream but -I was presently undeserved. You are not to suppose that I desired -perfection, either of mind or person. I longed only for what -suited me for the antipodes of the Creole and I longed vainly. -Amongst them all I found not one whom, had I been ever so free, -I warned as I was of the risks, the horrors, the loathings of -incongruous unions would have asked to marry me. Disappointment -made me reckless. I tried dissipation never debauchery that -I hated, and hate. That was my Indian Messalina's attribute -rooted disgust at it and her restrained me much, even in pleasure. -Any enjoyment that bordered on riot seemed to approach me to her -and her vices, and I eschewed it. -"Yet I could not live alone so I tried the companionship -of mistresses. The first I chose was Celine Varens another of -those steps which make a man spurn himself when he recalls them. You -already know what she was, and how my liaison with her terminated. -She had two successors an Italian, Giacinta, and a German, Clara -both considered singularly handsome. What was their beauty to me -in a few weeks? Giacinta was unprincipled and violent I tired -of her in three months. Clara was honest and quiet but heavy, -mindless, and unimpressible not one whit to my taste. I was -glad to give her a sufficient sum to set her up in a good line of -business, and so get decently rid of her. But, Jane, I see by your -face you are not forming a very favourable opinion of me just now. -You think me an unfeeling, looseprincipled rake don't you?" -"I don't like you so well as I have done sometimes, indeed, sir. -Did it not seem to you in the least wrong to live in that way, -first with one mistress and then another? You talk of it as a mere -matter of course." -"It was with me and I did not like it. It was a grovelling -fashion of existence I should never like to return to it. Hiring -a mistress is the next worse thing to buying a slave both are -often by nature, and always by position, inferior and to live -familiarly with inferiors is degrading. I now hate the recollection -of the time I passed with Celine, Giacinta, and Clara." -I felt the truth of these words and I drew from them the certain -inference, that if I were so far to forget myself and all the teaching -that had ever been instilled into me, as under any pretext -with any justification through any temptation to become the -successor of these poor girls, he would one day regard me with the -same feeling which now in his mind desecrated their memory. I did -not give utterance to this conviction it was enough to feel it. -I impressed it on my heart, that it might remain there to serve me -as aid in the time of trial. -"Now, Jane, why don't you say 'Well, sir?' I have not done. You -are looking grave. You disapprove of me still, I see. But let -me come to the point. Last January, rid of all mistresses in a -harsh, bitter frame of mind, the result of a useless, roving, lonely -life corroded with disappointment, sourly disposed against all -men, and especially against all womankind for I began to regard -the notion of an intellectual, faithful, loving woman as a mere -dream, recalled by business, I came back to England. -"On a frosty winter afternoon, I rode in sight of Thornfield Hall. -Abhorred spot I expected no peace no pleasure there. On a -stile in Hay Lane I saw a quiet little figure sitting by itself. -I passed it as negligently as I did the pollard willow opposite -to it I had no presentiment of what it would be to me no inward -warning that the arbitress of my life my genius for good or evil -waited there in humble guise. I did not know it, even when, on -the occasion of Mesrour's accident, it came up and gravely offered -me help. Childish and slender creature It seemed as if a linnet -had hopped to my foot and proposed to bear me on its tiny wing. I -was surly but the thing would not go it stood by me with strange -perseverance, and looked and spoke with a sort of authority. I -must be aided, and by that hand and aided I was. -"When once I had pressed the frail shoulder, something new a -fresh sap and sense stole into my frame. It was well I had learnt -that this elf must return to me that it belonged to my house -down below or I could not have felt it pass away from under my -hand, and seen it vanish behind the dim hedge, without singular -regret. I heard you come home that night, Jane, though probably -you were not aware that I thought of you or watched for you. The -next day I observed you myself unseen for halfanhour, -while you played with Adele in the gallery. It was a snowy day, -I recollect, and you could not go out of doors. I was in my room -the door was ajar I could both listen and watch. Adele claimed -your outward attention for a while yet I fancied your thoughts -were elsewhere but you were very patient with her, my little -Jane you talked to her and amused her a long time. When at last -she left you, you lapsed at once into deep reverie you betook -yourself slowly to pace the gallery. Now and then, in passing a -casement, you glanced out at the thickfalling snow you listened -to the sobbing wind, and again you paced gently on and dreamed. -I think those day visions were not dark there was a pleasurable -illumination in your eye occasionally, a soft excitement in your -aspect, which told of no bitter, bilious, hypochondriac brooding -your look revealed rather the sweet musings of youth when its spirit -follows on willing wings the flight of Hope up and on to an ideal -heaven. The voice of Mrs. Fairfax, speaking to a servant in the -hall, wakened you and how curiously you smiled to and at yourself, -Janet There was much sense in your smile it was very shrewd, -and seemed to make light of your own abstraction. It seemed to say -'My fine visions are all very well, but I must not forget they -are absolutely unreal. I have a rosy sky and a green flowery Eden -in my brain but without, I am perfectly aware, lies at my feet -a rough tract to travel, and around me gather black tempests to -encounter.' You ran downstairs and demanded of Mrs. Fairfax some -occupation the weekly house accounts to make up, or something of -that sort, I think it was. I was vexed with you for getting out -of my sight. -"Impatiently I waited for evening, when I might summon you -to my presence. An unusual to me a perfectly new character -I suspected was yours I desired to search it deeper and know it -better. You entered the room with a look and air at once shy and -independent you were quaintly dressed much as you are now. -I made you talk ere long I found you full of strange contrasts. -Your garb and manner were restricted by rule your air was often -diffident, and altogether that of one refined by nature, but -absolutely unused to society, and a good deal afraid of making -herself disadvantageously conspicuous by some solecism or blunder -yet when addressed, you lifted a keen, a daring, and a glowing -eye to your interlocutor's face there was penetration and power -in each glance you gave when plied by close questions, you found -ready and round answers. Very soon you seemed to get used to me -I believe you felt the existence of sympathy between you and your -grim and cross master, Jane for it was astonishing to see how -quickly a certain pleasant ease tranquillised your manner snarl -as I would, you showed no surprise, fear, annoyance, or displeasure -at my moroseness you watched me, and now and then smiled at me -with a simple yet sagacious grace I cannot describe. I was at once -content and stimulated with what I saw I liked what I had seen, -and wished to see more. Yet, for a long time, I treated you -distantly, and sought your company rarely. I was an intellectual -epicure, and wished to prolong the gratification of making this -novel and piquant acquaintance besides, I was for a while troubled -with a haunting fear that if I handled the flower freely its bloom -would fade the sweet charm of freshness would leave it. I did -not then know that it was no transitory blossom, but rather the -radiant resemblance of one, cut in an indestructible gem. Moreover, -I wished to see whether you would seek me if I shunned you but -you did not you kept in the schoolroom as still as your own desk -and easel if by chance I met you, you passed me as soon, and with -as little token of recognition, as was consistent with respect. -Your habitual expression in those days, Jane, was a thoughtful -look not despondent, for you were not sickly but not buoyant, -for you had little hope, and no actual pleasure. I wondered what -you thought of me, or if you ever thought of me, and resolved to -find this out. -"I resumed my notice of you. There was something glad in your -glance, and genial in your manner, when you conversed I saw you -had a social heart it was the silent schoolroom it was the -tedium of your life that made you mournful. I permitted myself -the delight of being kind to you kindness stirred emotion soon -your face became soft in expression, your tones gentle I liked my -name pronounced by your lips in a grateful happy accent. I used to -enjoy a chance meeting with you, Jane, at this time there was a -curious hesitation in your manner you glanced at me with a slight -trouble a hovering doubt you did not know what my caprice might -be whether I was going to play the master and be stern, or the -friend and be benignant. I was now too fond of you often to simulate -the first whim and, when I stretched my hand out cordially, such -bloom and light and bliss rose to your young, wistful features, -I had much ado often to avoid straining you then and there to my -heart." -"Don't talk any more of those days, sir," I interrupted, furtively -dashing away some tears from my eyes his language was torture -to me for I knew what I must do and do soon and all these -reminiscences, and these revelations of his feelings only made my -work more difficult. -"No, Jane," he returned "what necessity is there to dwell on -the Past, when the Present is so much surer the Future so much -brighter?" -I shuddered to hear the infatuated assertion. -"You see now how the case stands do you not?" he continued. -"After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and -half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can -truly love I have found you. You are my sympathy my better -self my good angel. I am bound to you with a strong attachment. -I think you good, gifted, lovely a fervent, a solemn passion -is conceived in my heart it leans to you, draws you to my centre -and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in -pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one. -"It was because I felt and knew this, that I resolved to marry -you. To tell me that I had already a wife is empty mockery you -know now that I had but a hideous demon. I was wrong to attempt -to deceive you but I feared a stubbornness that exists in your -character. I feared early instilled prejudice I wanted to have -you safe before hazarding confidences. This was cowardly I should -have appealed to your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as I do -now opened to you plainly my life of agony described to you -my hunger and thirst after a higher and worthier existence shown -to you, not my RESOLUTION that word is weak, but my resistless -BENT to love faithfully and well, where I am faithfully and well -loved in return. Then I should have asked you to accept my pledge -of fidelity and to give me yours. Jane give it me now." -A pause. -"Why are you silent, Jane?" -I was experiencing an ordeal a hand of fiery iron grasped my -vitals. Terrible moment full of struggle, blackness, burning -Not a human being that ever lived could wish to be loved better -than I was loved and him who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped -and I must renounce love and idol. One drear word comprised my -intolerable duty "Depart" -"Jane, you understand what I want of you? Just this promise 'I -will be yours, Mr. Rochester.'" -"Mr. Rochester, I will NOT be yours." -Another long silence. -"Jane" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with -grief, and turned me stonecold with ominous terror for this -still voice was the pant of a lion rising "Jane, do you mean to -go one way in the world, and to let me go another?" -"I do." -"Jane" bending towards and embracing me, "do you mean it now?" -"I do." -"And now?" softly kissing my forehead and cheek. -"I do," extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely. -"Oh, Jane, this is bitter This this is wicked. It would not -be wicked to love me." -"It would to obey you." -A wild look raised his brows crossed his features he rose -but he forebore yet. I laid my hand on the back of a chair for -support I shook, I feared but I resolved. -"One instant, Jane. Give one glance to my horrible life when you -are gone. All happiness will be torn away with you. What then is -left? For a wife I have but the maniac upstairs as well might -you refer me to some corpse in yonder churchyard. What shall I -do, Jane? Where turn for a companion and for some hope?" -"Do as I do trust in God and yourself. Believe in heaven. Hope -to meet again there." -"Then you will not yield?" -"No." -"Then you condemn me to live wretched and to die accursed?" His -voice rose. -"I advise you to live sinless, and I wish you to die tranquil." -"Then you snatch love and innocence from me? You fling me back on -lust for a passion vice for an occupation?" -"Mr. Rochester, I no more assign this fate to you than I grasp at -it for myself. We were born to strive and endure you as well -as I do so. You will forget me before I forget you." -"You make me a liar by such language you sully my honour. I -declared I could not change you tell me to my face I shall change -soon. And what a distortion in your judgment, what a perversity -in your ideas, is proved by your conduct Is it better to drive -a fellowcreature to despair than to transgress a mere human law, -no man being injured by the breach? for you have neither relatives -nor acquaintances whom you need fear to offend by living with me?" -This was true and while he spoke my very conscience and reason -turned traitors against me, and charged me with crime in resisting -him. They spoke almost as loud as Feeling and that clamoured -wildly. "Oh, comply" it said. "Think of his misery think of his -danger look at his state when left alone remember his headlong -nature consider the recklessness following on despair soothe -him save him love him tell him you love him and will be his. -Who in the world cares for YOU? or who will be injured by what you -do?" -Still indomitable was the reply "I care for myself. The more -solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more -I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God sanctioned -by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was -sane, and not mad as I am now. Laws and principles are not for -the times when there is no temptation they are for such moments -as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour -stringent are they inviolate they shall be. If at my individual -convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? They -have a worth so I have always believed and if I cannot believe -it now, it is because I am insane quite insane with my veins -running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its -throbs. Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all -I have at this hour to stand by there I plant my foot." -I did. Mr. Rochester, reading my countenance, saw I had done so. -His fury was wrought to the highest he must yield to it for a -moment, whatever followed he crossed the floor and seized my arm -and grasped my waist. He seemed to devour me with his flaming -glance physically, I felt, at the moment, powerless as stubble -exposed to the draught and glow of a furnace mentally, I still -possessed my soul, and with it the certainty of ultimate safety. -The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter often an unconscious, -but still a truthful interpreter in the eye. My eye rose to -his and while I looked in his fierce face I gave an involuntary -sigh his gripe was painful, and my overtaxed strength almost -exhausted. -"Never," said he, as he ground his teeth, "never was anything at once -so frail and so indomitable. A mere reed she feels in my hand" -And he shook me with the force of his hold. "I could bend her -with my finger and thumb and what good would it do if I bent, -if I uptore, if I crushed her? Consider that eye consider the -resolute, wild, free thing looking out of it, defying me, with -more than courage with a stern triumph. Whatever I do with its -cage, I cannot get at it the savage, beautiful creature If -I tear, if I rend the slight prison, my outrage will only let the -captive loose. Conqueror I might be of the house but the inmate -would escape to heaven before I could call myself possessor of its -clay dwellingplace. And it is you, spirit with will and energy, -and virtue and purity that I want not alone your brittle frame. -Of yourself you could come with soft flight and nestle against my -heart, if you would seized against your will, you will elude the -grasp like an essence you will vanish ere I inhale your fragrance. -Oh come, Jane, come" -As he said this, he released me from his clutch, and only looked -at me. The look was far worse to resist than the frantic strain -only an idiot, however, would have succumbed now. I had dared and -baffled his fury I must elude his sorrow I retired to the door. -"You are going, Jane?" -"I am going, sir." -"You are leaving me?" -"Yes." -"You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My -deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?" -What unutterable pathos was in his voice How hard it was to -reiterate firmly, "I am going." -"Jane" -"Mr. Rochester" -"Withdraw, then, I consent but remember, you leave me here in -anguish. Go up to your own room think over all I have said, and, -Jane, cast a glance on my sufferings think of me." -He turned away he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "Oh, -Jane my hope my love my life" broke in anguish from his -lips. Then came a deep, strong sob. -I had already gained the door but, reader, I walked back walked -back as determinedly as I had retreated. I knelt down by him -I turned his face from the cushion to me I kissed his cheek I -smoothed his hair with my hand. -"God bless you, my dear master" I said. "God keep you from harm -and wrong direct you, solace you reward you well for your -past kindness to me." -"Little Jane's love would have been my best reward," he answered -"without it, my heart is broken. But Jane will give me her love -yes nobly, generously." -Up the blood rushed to his face forth flashed the fire from -his eyes erect he sprang he held his arms out but I evaded the -embrace, and at once quitted the room. -"Farewell" was the cry of my heart as I left him. Despair added, -"Farewell for ever" -That night I never thought to sleep but a slumber fell on me as -soon as I lay down in bed. I was transported in thought to the -scenes of childhood I dreamt I lay in the redroom at Gateshead -that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. -The light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in -this vision, seemed glidingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to -pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. I lifted up my head -to look the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim the gleam -was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever. I -watched her come watched with the strangest anticipation as -though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. She broke -forth as never moon yet burst from cloud a hand first penetrated -the sable folds and waved them away then, not a moon, but a white -human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. -It gazed and gazed on me. It spoke to my spirit immeasurably -distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart -"My daughter, flee temptation." -"Mother, I will." -So I answered after I had waked from the trancelike dream. It was -yet night, but July nights are short soon after midnight, dawn -comes. "It cannot be too early to commence the task I have to -fulfil," thought I. I rose I was dressed for I had taken off -nothing but my shoes. I knew where to find in my drawers some linen, -a locket, a ring. In seeking these articles, I encountered the -beads of a pearl necklace Mr. Rochester had forced me to accept a -few days ago. I left that it was not mine it was the visionary -bride's who had melted in air. The other articles I made up in a -parcel my purse, containing twenty shillings it was all I had, -I put in my pocket I tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, -took the parcel and my slippers, which I would not put on yet, and -stole from my room. -"Farewell, kind Mrs. Fairfax" I whispered, as I glided past her -door. "Farewell, my darling Adele" I said, as I glanced towards -the nursery. No thought could be admitted of entering to embrace -her. I had to deceive a fine ear for aught I knew it might now -be listening. -I would have got past Mr. Rochester's chamber without a pause but -my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot -was forced to stop also. No sleep was there the inmate was -walking restlessly from wall to wall and again and again he sighed -while I listened. There was a heaven a temporary heaven -in this room for me, if I chose I had but to go in and to say -"Mr. Rochester, I will love you and live with you through life till -death," and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. I thought -of this. -That kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with -impatience for day. He would send for me in the morning I should -be gone. He would have me sought for vainly. He would feel -himself forsaken his love rejected he would suffer perhaps -grow desperate. I thought of this too. My hand moved towards the -lock I caught it back, and glided on. -Drearily I wound my way downstairs I knew what I had to do, and -I did it mechanically. I sought the key of the sidedoor in the -kitchen I sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather I oiled the -key and the lock. I got some water, I got some bread for perhaps -I should have to walk far and my strength, sorely shaken of late, -must not break down. All this I did without one sound. I opened -the door, passed out, shut it softly. Dim dawn glimmered in the -yard. The great gates were closed and locked but a wicket in -one of them was only latched. Through that I departed it, too, -I shut and now I was out of Thornfield. -A mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the -contrary direction to Millcote a road I had never travelled, but -often noticed, and wondered where it led thither I bent my steps. -No reflection was to be allowed now not one glance was to be -cast back not even one forward. Not one thought was to be given -either to the past or the future. The first was a page so heavenly -sweet so deadly sad that to read one line of it would dissolve -my courage and break down my energy. The last was an awful blank -something like the world when the deluge was gone by. -I skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. I -believe it was a lovely summer morning I know my shoes, which I -had put on when I left the house, were soon wet with dew. But I -looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. -He who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, -thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block -and axeedge of the disseverment of bone and vein of the grave -gaping at the end and I thought of drear flight and homeless -wandering and oh with agony I thought of what I left. I could -not help it. I thought of him now in his room watching the -sunrise hoping I should soon come to say I would stay with him -and be his. I longed to be his I panted to return it was not -too late I could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. As -yet my flight, I was sure, was undiscovered. I could go back and -be his comforter his pride his redeemer from misery, perhaps -from ruin. Oh, that fear of his selfabandonment far worse than -my abandonment how it goaded me It was a barbed arrowhead -in my breast it tore me when I tried to extract it it sickened -me when remembrance thrust it farther in. Birds began singing in -brake and copse birds were faithful to their mates birds were -emblems of love. What was I? In the midst of my pain of heart and -frantic effort of principle, I abhorred myself. I had no solace -from self approbation none even from selfrespect. I had injured -wounded left my master. I was hateful in my own eyes. Still -I could not turn, nor retrace one step. God must have led me on. -As to my own will or conscience, impassioned grief had trampled one -and stifled the other. I was weeping wildly as I walked along my -solitary way fast, fast I went like one delirious. A weakness, -beginning inwardly, extending to the limbs, seized me, and I fell -I lay on the ground some minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. -I had some fear or hope that here I should die but I was -soon up crawling forwards on my hands and knees, and then again -raised to my feet as eager and as determined as ever to reach -the road. -When I got there, I was forced to sit to rest me under the hedge -and while I sat, I heard wheels, and saw a coach come on. I stood -up and lifted my hand it stopped. I asked where it was going -the driver named a place a long way off, and where I was sure Mr. -Rochester had no connections. I asked for what sum he would take -me there he said thirty shillings I answered I had but twenty -well, he would try to make it do. He further gave me leave to get -into the inside, as the vehicle was empty I entered, was shut -in, and it rolled on its way. -Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt May your eyes -never shed such stormy, scalding, heartwrung tears as poured from -mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and -so agonised as in that hour left my lips for never may you, like -me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love. -CHAPTER XXVIII -Two days are passed. It is a summer evening the coachman has set -me down at a place called Whitcross he could take me no farther -for the sum I had given, and I was not possessed of another shilling -in the world. The coach is a mile off by this time I am alone. -At this moment I discover that I forgot to take my parcel out of -the pocket of the coach, where I had placed it for safety there -it remains, there it must remain and now, I am absolutely destitute. -Whitcross is no town, nor even a hamlet it is but a stone pillar -set up where four roads meet whitewashed, I suppose, to be more -obvious at a distance and in darkness. Four arms spring from its -summit the nearest town to which these point is, according to the -inscription, distant ten miles the farthest, above twenty. From -the wellknown names of these towns I learn in what county I have -lighted a northmidland shire, dusk with moorland, ridged with -mountain this I see. There are great moors behind and on each -hand of me there are waves of mountains far beyond that deep -valley at my feet. The population here must be thin, and I see -no passengers on these roads they stretch out east, west, north, -and south white, broad, lonely they are all cut in the moor, -and the heather grows deep and wild to their very verge. Yet a -chance traveller might pass by and I wish no eye to see me now -strangers would wonder what I am doing, lingering here at the -signpost, evidently objectless and lost. I might be questioned -I could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite -suspicion. Not a tie holds me to human society at this moment -not a charm or hope calls me where my fellowcreatures are none -that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me. I -have no relative but the universal mother, Nature I will seek -her breast and ask repose. -I struck straight into the heath I held on to a hollow I saw -deeply furrowing the brown moorside I waded kneedeep in its dark -growth I turned with its turnings, and finding a mossblackened -granite crag in a hidden angle, I sat down under it. High banks of -moor were about me the crag protected my head the sky was over -that. -Some time passed before I felt tranquil even here I had a vague -dread that wild cattle might be near, or that some sportsman or -poacher might discover me. If a gust of wind swept the waste, I -looked up, fearing it was the rush of a bull if a plover whistled, -I imagined it a man. Finding my apprehensions unfounded, however, -and calmed by the deep silence that reigned as evening declined -at nightfall, I took confidence. As yet I had not thought I had -only listened, watched, dreaded now I regained the faculty of -reflection. -What was I to do? Where to go? Oh, intolerable questions, when -I could do nothing and go nowhere when a long way must yet be -measured by my weary, trembling limbs before I could reach human -habitation when cold charity must be entreated before I could get -a lodging reluctant sympathy importuned, almost certain repulse -incurred, before my tale could be listened to, or one of my wants -relieved -I touched the heath, it was dry, and yet warm with the beat of the -summer day. I looked at the sky it was pure a kindly star twinkled -just above the chasm ridge. The dew fell, but with propitious -softness no breeze whispered. Nature seemed to me benign and -good I thought she loved me, outcast as I was and I, who from -man could anticipate only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to her -with filial fondness. Tonight, at least, I would be her guest, -as I was her child my mother would lodge me without money and -without price. I had one morsel of bread yet the remnant of a -roll I had bought in a town we passed through at noon with a stray -penny my last coin. I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and -there, like jet beads in the heath I gathered a handful and ate -them with the bread. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, -appeased by this hermit's meal. I said my evening prayers at its -conclusion, and then chose my couch. -Beside the crag the heath was very deep when I lay down my feet -were buried in it rising high on each side, it left only a narrow -space for the nightair to invade. I folded my shawl double, and -spread it over me for a coverlet a low, mossy swell was my pillow. -Thus lodged, I was not, at least at the commencement of the -night, cold. -My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it. -It plained of its gaping wounds, its inward bleeding, its riven -chords. It trembled for Mr. Rochester and his doom it bemoaned -him with bitter pity it demanded him with ceaseless longing and, -impotent as a bird with both wings broken, it still quivered its -shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him. -Worn out with this torture of thought, I rose to my knees. Night -was come, and her planets were risen a safe, still night too -serene for the companionship of fear. We know that God is everywhere -but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the -grandest scale spread before us and it is in the unclouded nightsky, -where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest -His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence. I had risen to -my knees to pray for Mr. Rochester. Looking up, I, with teardimmed -eyes, saw the mighty Milkyway. Remembering what it was what -countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light -I felt the might and strength of God. Sure was I of His efficiency -to save what He had made convinced I grew that neither earth should -perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. I turned my prayer to -thanksgiving the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits. -Mr. Rochester was safe he was God's, and by God would he be -guarded. I again nestled to the breast of the hill and ere long -in sleep forgot sorrow. -But next day, Want came to me pale and bare. Long after the little -birds had left their nests long after bees had come in the sweet -prime of day to gather the heath honey before the dew was dried -when the long morning shadows were curtailed, and the sun filled -earth and sky I got up, and I looked round me. -What a still, hot, perfect day What a golden desert this spreading -moor Everywhere sunshine. I wished I could live in it and on -it. I saw a lizard run over the crag I saw a bee busy among the -sweet bilberries. I would fain at the moment have become bee or -lizard, that I might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter -here. But I was a human being, and had a human being's wants I -must not linger where there was nothing to supply them. I rose I -looked back at the bed I had left. Hopeless of the future, I wished -but this that my Maker had that night thought good to require -my soul of me while I slept and that this weary frame, absolved -by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to decay -quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness. Life, -however, was yet in my possession, with all its requirements, and -pains, and responsibilities. The burden must be carried the want -provided for the suffering endured the responsibility fulfilled. -I set out. -Whitcross regained, I followed a road which led from the sun, now -fervent and high. By no other circumstance had I will to decide -my choice. I walked a long time, and when I thought I had nearly -done enough, and might conscientiously yield to the fatigue that -almost overpowered me might relax this forced action, and, sitting -down on a stone I saw near, submit resistlessly to the apathy that -clogged heart and limb I heard a bell chime a church bell. -I turned in the direction of the sound, and there, amongst the -romantic hills, whose changes and aspect I had ceased to note an -hour ago, I saw a hamlet and a spire. All the valley at my right -hand was full of pasturefields, and cornfields, and wood and a -glittering stream ran zigzag through the varied shades of green, -the mellowing grain, the sombre woodland, the clear and sunny lea. -Recalled by the rumbling of wheels to the road before me, I saw -a heavilyladen waggon labouring up the hill, and not far beyond -were two cows and their drover. Human life and human labour were -near. I must struggle on strive to live and bend to toil like -the rest. -About two o'clock p.m. I entered the village. At the bottom of -its one street there was a little shop with some cakes of bread -in the window. I coveted a cake of bread. With that refreshment -I could perhaps regain a degree of energy without it, it would -be difficult to proceed. The wish to have some strength and some -vigour returned to me as soon as I was amongst my fellowbeings. -I felt it would be degrading to faint with hunger on the causeway -of a hamlet. Had I nothing about me I could offer in exchange for -one of these rolls? I considered. I had a small silk handkerchief -tied round my throat I had my gloves. I could hardly tell how -men and women in extremities of destitution proceeded. I did not -know whether either of these articles would be accepted probably -they would not but I must try. -I entered the shop a woman was there. Seeing a respectablydressed -person, a lady as she supposed, she came forward with civility. -How could she serve me? I was seized with shame my tongue would -not utter the request I had prepared. I dared not offer her the -halfworn gloves, the creased handkerchief besides, I felt it -would be absurd. I only begged permission to sit down a moment, -as I was tired. Disappointed in the expectation of a customer, she -coolly acceded to my request. She pointed to a seat I sank into -it. I felt sorely urged to weep but conscious how unseasonable -such a manifestation would be, I restrained it. Soon I asked her -"if there were any dressmaker or plainworkwoman in the village?" -"Yes two or three. Quite as many as there was employment for." -I reflected. I was driven to the point now. I was brought face -to face with Necessity. I stood in the position of one without a -resource, without a friend, without a coin. I must do something. -What? I must apply somewhere. Where? -"Did she know of any place in the neighbourhood where a servant -was wanted?" -"Nay she couldn't say." -"What was the chief trade in this place? What did most of the -people do?" -"Some were farm labourers a good deal worked at Mr. Oliver's -needlefactory, and at the foundry." -"Did Mr. Oliver employ women?" -"Nay it was men's work." -"And what do the women do?" -"I knawn't," was the answer. "Some does one thing, and some another. -Poor folk mun get on as they can." -She seemed to be tired of my questions and, indeed, what claim -had I to importune her? A neighbour or two came in my chair was -evidently wanted. I took leave. -I passed up the street, looking as I went at all the houses to the -right hand and to the left but I could discover no pretext, nor -see an inducement to enter any. I rambled round the hamlet, going -sometimes to a little distance and returning again, for an hour or -more. Much exhausted, and suffering greatly now for want of food, -I turned aside into a lane and sat down under the hedge. Ere many -minutes had elapsed, I was again on my feet, however, and again -searching something a resource, or at least an informant. A -pretty little house stood at the top of the lane, with a garden -before it, exquisitely neat and brilliantly blooming. I stopped -at it. What business had I to approach the white door or touch the -glittering knocker? In what way could it possibly be the interest -of the inhabitants of that dwelling to serve me? Yet I drew near -and knocked. A mildlooking, cleanlyattired young woman opened -the door. In such a voice as might be expected from a hopeless -heart and fainting frame a voice wretchedly low and faltering -I asked if a servant was wanted here? -"No," said she "we do not keep a servant." -"Can you tell me where I could get employment of any kind?" I -continued. "I am a stranger, without acquaintance in this place. -I want some work no matter what." -But it was not her business to think for me, or to seek a place -for me besides, in her eyes, how doubtful must have appeared my -character, position, tale. She shook her head, she "was sorry she -could give me no information," and the white door closed, quite -gently and civilly but it shut me out. If she had held it open -a little longer, I believe I should have begged a piece of bread -for I was now brought low. -I could not bear to return to the sordid village, where, besides, -no prospect of aid was visible. I should have longed rather to -deviate to a wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick -shade to offer inviting shelter but I was so sick, so weak, so -gnawed with nature's cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes -where there was a chance of food. Solitude would be no solitude -rest no rest while the vulture, hunger, thus sank beak and -talons in my side. -I drew near houses I left them, and came back again, and again I -wandered away always repelled by the consciousness of having no -claim to ask no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. -Meantime, the afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like -a lost and starving dog. In crossing a field, I saw the church -spire before me I hastened towards it. Near the churchyard, and -in the middle of a garden, stood a wellbuilt though small house, -which I had no doubt was the parsonage. I remembered that strangers -who arrive at a place where they have no friends, and who want -employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for introduction -and aid. It is the clergyman's function to help at least with -advice those who wished to help themselves. I seemed to have -something like a right to seek counsel here. Renewing then my -courage, and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. -I reached the house, and knocked at the kitchendoor. An old woman -opened I asked was this the parsonage? -"Yes." -"Was the clergyman in?" -"No." -"Would he be in soon?" -"No, he was gone from home." -"To a distance?" -"Not so far happen three mile. He had been called away by the -sudden death of his father he was at Marsh End now, and would -very likely stay there a fortnight longer." -"Was there any lady of the house?" -"Nay, there was naught but her, and she was housekeeper" and of -her, reader, I could not bear to ask the relief for want of which -I was sinking I could not yet beg and again I crawled away. -Once more I took off my handkerchief once more I thought of the -cakes of bread in the little shop. Oh, for but a crust for but -one mouthful to allay the pang of famine Instinctively I turned -my face again to the village I found the shop again, and I went -in and though others were there besides the woman I ventured the -request "Would she give me a roll for this handkerchief?" -She looked at me with evident suspicion "Nay, she never sold -stuff i' that way." -Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake she again refused. "How -could she tell where I had got the handkerchief?" she said. -"Would she take my gloves?" -"No what could she do with them?" -Reader, it is not pleasant to dwell on these details. Some say -there is enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past -but at this day I can scarcely bear to review the times to which I -allude the moral degradation, blent with the physical suffering, -form too distressing a recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on. -I blamed none of those who repulsed me. I felt it was what was to -be expected, and what could not be helped an ordinary beggar is -frequently an object of suspicion a welldressed beggar inevitably -so. To be sure, what I begged was employment but whose business -was it to provide me with employment? Not, certainly, that of -persons who saw me then for the first time, and who knew nothing -about my character. And as to the woman who would not take my -handkerchief in exchange for her bread, why, she was right, if the -offer appeared to her sinister or the exchange unprofitable. Let -me condense now. I am sick of the subject. -A little before dark I passed a farmhouse, at the open door -of which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread -and cheese. I stopped and said -"Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry." He cast -on me a glance of surprise but without answering, he cut a thick -slice from his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think -I was a beggar, but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken -a fancy to his brown loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his -house, I sat down and ate it. -I could not hope to get a lodging under a roof, and sought it in -the wood I have before alluded to. But my night was wretched, my -rest broken the ground was damp, the air cold besides, intruders -passed near me more than once, and I had again and again to change -my quarters no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. -Towards morning it rained the whole of the following day was -wet. Do not ask me, reader, to give a minute account of that day -as before, I sought work as before, I was repulsed as before, I -starved but once did food pass my lips. At the door of a cottage -I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a -pig trough. "Will you give me that?" I asked. -She stared at me. "Mother" she exclaimed, "there is a woman -wants me to give her these porridge." -"Well lass," replied a voice within, "give it her if she's a beggar. -T' pig doesn't want it." -The girl emptied the stiffened mould into my hand, and I devoured -it ravenously. -As the wet twilight deepened, I stopped in a solitary bridlepath, -which I had been pursuing an hour or more. -"My strength is quite failing me," I said in a soliloquy. "I feel -I cannot go much farther. Shall I be an outcast again this night? -While the rain descends so, must I lay my head on the cold, drenched -ground? I fear I cannot do otherwise for who will receive me? But -it will be very dreadful, with this feeling of hunger, faintness, -chill, and this sense of desolation this total prostration of -hope. In all likelihood, though, I should die before morning. And -why cannot I reconcile myself to the prospect of death? Why do I -struggle to retain a valueless life? Because I know, or believe, -Mr. Rochester is living and then, to die of want and cold is -a fate to which nature cannot submit passively. Oh, Providence -sustain me a little longer Aid direct me" -My glazed eye wandered over the dim and misty landscape. I saw -I had strayed far from the village it was quite out of sight. -The very cultivation surrounding it had disappeared. I had, by -crossways and bypaths, once more drawn near the tract of moorland -and now, only a few fields, almost as wild and unproductive as the -heath from which they were scarcely reclaimed, lay between me and -the dusky hill. -"Well, I would rather die yonder than in a street or on a frequented -road," I reflected. "And far better that crows and ravens if -any ravens there be in these regions should pick my flesh from -my bones, than that they should be prisoned in a workhouse coffin -and moulder in a pauper's grave." -To the hill, then, I turned. I reached it. It remained now only -to find a hollow where I could lie down, and feel at least hidden, -if not secure. But all the surface of the waste looked level. -It showed no variation but of tint green, where rush and moss -overgrew the marshes black, where the dry soil bore only heath. -Dark as it was getting, I could still see these changes, though -but as mere alternations of light and shade for colour had faded -with the daylight. -My eye still roved over the sullen swell and along the mooredge, -vanishing amidst the wildest scenery, when at one dim point, far -in among the marshes and the ridges, a light sprang up. "That is -an ignis fatuus," was my first thought and I expected it would -soon vanish. It burnt on, however, quite steadily, neither receding -nor advancing. "Is it, then, a bonfire just kindled?" I questioned. -I watched to see whether it would spread but no as it did not -diminish, so it did not enlarge. "It may be a candle in a house," -I then conjectured "but if so, I can never reach it. It is much -too far away and were it within a yard of me, what would it avail? -I should but knock at the door to have it shut in my face." -And I sank down where I stood, and hid my face against the ground. -I lay still a while the nightwind swept over the hill and over -me, and died moaning in the distance the rain fell fast, wetting -me afresh to the skin. Could I but have stiffened to the still -frost the friendly numbness of death it might have pelted -on I should not have felt it but my yet living flesh shuddered -at its chilling influence. I rose ere long. -The light was yet there, shining dim but constant through the rain. -I tried to walk again I dragged my exhausted limbs slowly towards -it. It led me aslant over the hill, through a wide bog, which -would have been impassable in winter, and was splashy and shaking -even now, in the height of summer. Here I fell twice but as often -I rose and rallied my faculties. This light was my forlorn hope -I must gain it. -Having crossed the marsh, I saw a trace of white over the moor. -I approached it it was a road or a track it led straight up to -the light, which now beamed from a sort of knoll, amidst a clump -of trees firs, apparently, from what I could distinguish of the -character of their forms and foliage through the gloom. My star -vanished as I drew near some obstacle had intervened between -me and it. I put out my hand to feel the dark mass before me I -discriminated the rough stones of a low wall above it, something -like palisades, and within, a high and prickly hedge. I groped -on. Again a whitish object gleamed before me it was a gate -a wicket it moved on its hinges as I touched it. On each side -stood a sable bushholly or yew. -Entering the gate and passing the shrubs, the silhouette of a house -rose to view, black, low, and rather long but the guiding light -shone nowhere. All was obscurity. Were the inmates retired to -rest? I feared it must be so. In seeking the door, I turned an -angle there shot out the friendly gleam again, from the lozenged -panes of a very small latticed window, within a foot of the ground, -made still smaller by the growth of ivy or some other creeping -plant, whose leaves clustered thick over the portion of the house -wall in which it was set. The aperture was so screened and narrow, -that curtain or shutter had been deemed unnecessary and when I -stooped down and put aside the spray of foliage shooting over it, -I could see all within. I could see clearly a room with a sanded -floor, clean scoured a dresser of walnut, with pewter plates -ranged in rows, reflecting the redness and radiance of a glowing -peatfire. I could see a clock, a white deal table, some chairs. -The candle, whose ray had been my beacon, burnt on the table and -by its light an elderly woman, somewhat roughlooking, but scrupulously -clean, like all about her, was knitting a stocking. -I noticed these objects cursorily only in them there was nothing -extraordinary. A group of more interest appeared near the hearth, -sitting still amidst the rosy peace and warmth suffusing it. Two -young, graceful women ladies in every point sat, one in a low -rockingchair, the other on a lower stool both wore deep mourning -of crape and bombazeen, which sombre garb singularly set off very -fair necks and faces a large old pointer dog rested its massive -head on the knee of one girl in the lap of the other was cushioned -a black cat. -A strange place was this humble kitchen for such occupants Who -were they? They could not be the daughters of the elderly person -at the table for she looked like a rustic, and they were all -delicacy and cultivation. I had nowhere seen such faces as theirs -and yet, as I gazed on them, I seemed intimate with every lineament. -I cannot call them handsome they were too pale and grave for -the word as they each bent over a book, they looked thoughtful -almost to severity. A stand between them supported a second candle -and two great volumes, to which they frequently referred, comparing -them, seemingly, with the smaller books they held in their hands, -like people consulting a dictionary to aid them in the task of -translation. This scene was as silent as if all the figures had -been shadows and the firelit apartment a picture so hushed was -it, I could hear the cinders fall from the grate, the clock tick -in its obscure corner and I even fancied I could distinguish the -clickclick of the woman's knittingneedles. When, therefore, a -voice broke the strange stillness at last, it was audible enough -to me. -"Listen, Diana," said one of the absorbed students "Franz and -old Daniel are together in the nighttime, and Franz is telling a -dream from which he has awakened in terror listen" And in a -low voice she read something, of which not one word was intelligible -to me for it was in an unknown tongue neither French nor Latin. -Whether it were Greek or German I could not tell. -"That is strong," she said, when she had finished "I relish it." -The other girl, who had lifted her head to listen to her sister, -repeated, while she gazed at the fire, a line of what had been -read. At a later day, I knew the language and the book therefore, -I will here quote the line though, when I first heard it, it was -only like a stroke on sounding brass to me conveying no meaning -"'Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht.' Good -good" she exclaimed, while her dark and deep eye sparkled. "There -you have a dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you The -line is worth a hundred pages of fustian. 'Ich wage die Gedanken -in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines -Grimms.' I like it" -Both were again silent. -"Is there ony country where they talk i' that way?" asked the old -woman, looking up from her knitting. -"Yes, Hannah a far larger country than England, where they talk -in no other way." -"Well, for sure case, I knawn't how they can understand t' one -t'other and if either o' ye went there, ye could tell what they -said, I guess?" -"We could probably tell something of what they said, but not all -for we are not as clever as you think us, Hannah. We don't speak -German, and we cannot read it without a dictionary to help us." -"And what good does it do you?" -"We mean to teach it some time or at least the elements, as they -say and then we shall get more money than we do now." -"Varry like but give ower studying ye've done enough for tonight." -"I think we have at least I'm tired. Mary, are you?" -"Mortally after all, it's tough work fagging away at a language -with no master but a lexicon." -"It is, especially such a language as this crabbed but glorious -Deutsch. I wonder when St. John will come home." -"Surely he will not be long now it is just ten looking at a -little gold watch she drew from her girdle. It rains fast, Hannah -will you have the goodness to look at the fire in the parlour?" -The woman rose she opened a door, through which I dimly saw -a passage soon I heard her stir a fire in an inner room she -presently came back. -"Ah, childer" said she, "it fair troubles me to go into yond' -room now it looks so lonesome wi' the chair empty and set back -in a corner." -She wiped her eyes with her apron the two girls, grave before, -looked sad now. -"But he is in a better place," continued Hannah "we shouldn't -wish him here again. And then, nobody need to have a quieter death -nor he had." -"You say he never mentioned us?" inquired one of the ladies. -"He hadn't time, bairn he was gone in a minute, was your father. -He had been a bit ailing like the day before, but naught to signify -and when Mr. St. John asked if he would like either o' ye to be -sent for, he fair laughed at him. He began again with a bit of a -heaviness in his head the next day that is, a fortnight sin' -and he went to sleep and niver wakened he wor a'most stark when -your brother went into t' chamber and fand him. Ah, childer -that's t' last o' t' old stock for ye and Mr. St. John is like -of different soart to them 'at's gone for all your mother wor mich -i' your way, and a'most as booklearned. She wor the pictur' o' -ye, Mary Diana is more like your father." -I thought them so similar I could not tell where the old servant -for such I now concluded her to be saw the difference. Both were -fair complexioned and slenderly made both possessed faces full of -distinction and intelligence. One, to be sure, had hair a shade -darker than the other, and there was a difference in their style -of wearing it Mary's pale brown locks were parted and braided -smooth Diana's duskier tresses covered her neck with thick curls. -The clock struck ten. -"Ye'll want your supper, I am sure," observed Hannah "and so will -Mr. St. John when he comes in." -And she proceeded to prepare the meal. The ladies rose they -seemed about to withdraw to the parlour. Till this moment, I had -been so intent on watching them, their appearance and conversation -had excited in me so keen an interest, I had halfforgotten my own -wretched position now it recurred to me. More desolate, more -desperate than ever, it seemed from contrast. And how impossible -did it appear to touch the inmates of this house with concern on -my behalf to make them believe in the truth of my wants and woes -to induce them to vouchsafe a rest for my wanderings As I -groped out the door, and knocked at it hesitatingly, I felt that -last idea to be a mere chimera. Hannah opened. -"What do you want?" she inquired, in a voice of surprise, as she -surveyed me by the light of the candle she held. -"May I speak to your mistresses?" I said. -"You had better tell me what you have to say to them. Where do -you come from?" -"I am a stranger." -"What is your business here at this hour?" -"I want a night's shelter in an outhouse or anywhere, and a morsel -of bread to eat." -Distrust, the very feeling I dreaded, appeared in Hannah's face. -"I'll give you a piece of bread," she said, after a pause "but we -can't take in a vagrant to lodge. It isn't likely." -"Do let me speak to your mistresses." -"No, not I. What can they do for you? You should not be roving -about now it looks very ill." -"But where shall I go if you drive me away? What shall I do?" -"Oh, I'll warrant you know where to go and what to do. Mind -you don't do wrong, that's all. Here is a penny now go " -"A penny cannot feed me, and I have no strength to go farther. -Don't shut the door oh, don't, for God's sake" -"I must the rain is driving in " -"Tell the young ladies. Let me see them " -"Indeed, I will not. You are not what you ought to be, or you -wouldn't make such a noise. Move off." -"But I must die if I am turned away." -"Not you. I'm fear'd you have some ill plans agate, that bring you -about folk's houses at this time o' night. If you've any followers -housebreakers or such like anywhere near, you may tell them -we are not by ourselves in the house we have a gentleman, and -dogs, and guns." Here the honest but inflexible servant clapped -the door to and bolted it within. -This was the climax. A pang of exquisite suffering a throe -of true despair rent and heaved my heart. Worn out, indeed, I -was not another step could I stir. I sank on the wet doorstep I -groaned I wrung my hands I wept in utter anguish. Oh, this -spectre of death Oh, this last hour, approaching in such horror -Alas, this isolation this banishment from my kind Not only the -anchor of hope, but the footing of fortitude was gone at least -for a moment but the last I soon endeavoured to regain. -"I can but die," I said, "and I believe in God. Let me try to wait -His will in silence." -These words I not only thought, but uttered and thrusting back all -my misery into my heart, I made an effort to compel it to remain -there dumb and still. -"All men must die," said a voice quite close at hand "but all -are not condemned to meet a lingering and premature doom, such as -yours would be if you perished here of want." -"Who or what speaks?" I asked, terrified at the unexpected sound, -and incapable now of deriving from any occurrence a hope of aid. A -form was near what form, the pitchdark night and my enfeebled -vision prevented me from distinguishing. With a loud long knock, -the newcomer appealed to the door. -"Is it you, Mr. St. John?" cried Hannah. -"Yes yes open quickly." -"Well, how wet and cold you must be, such a wild night as it is -Come in your sisters are quite uneasy about you, and I believe -there are bad folks about. There has been a beggarwoman -I declare she is not gone yet laid down there. Get up for -shame Move off, I say" -"Hush, Hannah I have a word to say to the woman. You have done -your duty in excluding, now let me do mine in admitting her. I was -near, and listened to both you and her. I think this is a peculiar -case I must at least examine into it. Young woman, rise, and -pass before me into the house." -With difficulty I obeyed him. Presently I stood within that -clean, bright kitchen on the very hearth trembling, sickening -conscious of an aspect in the last degree ghastly, wild, and -weatherbeaten. The two ladies, their brother, Mr. St. John, the -old servant, were all gazing at me. -"St. John, who is it?" I heard one ask. -"I cannot tell I found her at the door," was the reply. -"She does look white," said Hannah. -"As white as clay or death," was responded. "She will fall let -her sit." -And indeed my head swam I dropped, but a chair received me. I -still possessed my senses, though just now I could not speak. -"Perhaps a little water would restore her. Hannah, fetch some. -But she is worn to nothing. How very thin, and how very bloodless" -"A mere spectre" -"Is she ill, or only famished?" -"Famished, I think. Hannah, is that milk? Give it me, and a piece -of bread." -Diana I knew her by the long curls which I saw drooping between -me and the fire as she bent over me broke some bread, dipped it -in milk, and put it to my lips. Her face was near mine I saw -there was pity in it, and I felt sympathy in her hurried breathing. -In her simple words, too, the same balmlike emotion spoke "Try -to eat." -"Yes try," repeated Mary gently and Mary's hand removed my -sodden bonnet and lifted my head. I tasted what they offered me -feebly at first, eagerly soon. -"Not too much at first restrain her," said the brother "she -has had enough." And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate of -bread. -"A little more, St. John look at the avidity in her eyes." -"No more at present, sister. Try if she can speak now ask her -her name." -I felt I could speak, and I answered "My name is Jane Elliott." -Anxious as ever to avoid discovery, I had before resolved to assume -an ALIAS. -"And where do you live? Where are your friends?" -I was silent. -"Can we send for any one you know?" -I shook my head. -"What account can you give of yourself?" -Somehow, now that I had once crossed the threshold of this house, -and once was brought face to face with its owners, I felt no longer -outcast, vagrant, and disowned by the wide world. I dared to put -off the mendicant to resume my natural manner and character. -I began once more to know myself and when Mr. St. John demanded -an account which at present I was far too weak to render -I said after a brief pause -"Sir, I can give you no details tonight." -"But what, then," said he, "do you expect me to do for you?" -"Nothing," I replied. My strength sufficed for but short -answers. Diana took the word -"Do you mean," she asked, "that we have now given you what aid you -require? and that we may dismiss you to the moor and the rainy -night?" -I looked at her. She had, I thought, a remarkable countenance, -instinct both with power and goodness. I took sudden courage. -Answering her compassionate gaze with a smile, I said "I will -trust you. If I were a masterless and stray dog, I know that you -would not turn me from your hearth tonight as it is, I really -have no fear. Do with me and for me as you like but excuse me -from much discourse my breath is short I feel a spasm when -I speak." All three surveyed me, and all three were silent. -"Hannah," said Mr. St. John, at last, "let her sit there at -present, and ask her no questions in ten minutes more, give her -the remainder of that milk and bread. Mary and Diana, let us go -into the parlour and talk the matter over." -They withdrew. Very soon one of the ladies returned I could -not tell which. A kind of pleasant stupor was stealing over me as -I sat by the genial fire. In an undertone she gave some directions -to Hannah. Ere long, with the servant's aid, I contrived to mount -a staircase my dripping clothes were removed soon a warm, dry -bed received me. I thanked God experienced amidst unutterable -exhaustion a glow of grateful joy and slept. -CHAPTER XXIX -The recollection of about three days and nights succeeding this is -very dim in my mind. I can recall some sensations felt in that -interval but few thoughts framed, and no actions performed. I knew -I was in a small room and in a narrow bed. To that bed I seemed -to have grown I lay on it motionless as a stone and to have torn -me from it would have been almost to kill me. I took no note of -the lapse of time of the change from morning to noon, from noon -to evening. I observed when any one entered or left the apartment -I could even tell who they were I could understand what was said -when the speaker stood near to me but I could not answer to -open my lips or move my limbs was equally impossible. Hannah, the -servant, was my most frequent visitor. Her coming disturbed me. I -had a feeling that she wished me away that she did not understand -me or my circumstances that she was prejudiced against me. Diana -and Mary appeared in the chamber once or twice a day. They -would whisper sentences of this sort at my bedside -"It is very well we took her in." -"Yes she would certainly have been found dead at the door in the -morning had she been left out all night. I wonder what she has -gone through?" -"Strange hardships, I imagine poor, emaciated, pallid wanderer?" -"She is not an uneducated person, I should think, by her manner of -speaking her accent was quite pure and the clothes she took off, -though splashed and wet, were little worn and fine." -"She has a peculiar face fleshless and haggard as it is, I rather -like it and when in good health and animated, I can fancy her -physiognomy would be agreeable." -Never once in their dialogues did I hear a syllable of regret at -the hospitality they had extended to me, or of suspicion of, or -aversion to, myself. I was comforted. -Mr. St. John came but once he looked at me, and said my state of -lethargy was the result of reaction from excessive and protracted -fatigue. He pronounced it needless to send for a doctor nature, -he was sure, would manage best, left to herself. He said every nerve -had been overstrained in some way, and the whole system must sleep -torpid a while. There was no disease. He imagined my recovery would -be rapid enough when once commenced. These opinions he delivered -in a few words, in a quiet, low voice and added, after a pause, in -the tone of a man little accustomed to expansive comment, "Rather -an unusual physiognomy certainly, not indicative of vulgarity or -degradation." -"Far otherwise," responded Diana. "To speak truth, St. John, my -heart rather warms to the poor little soul. I wish we may be able -to benefit her permanently." -"That is hardly likely," was the reply. "You will find she is -some young lady who has had a misunderstanding with her friends, -and has probably injudiciously left them. We may, perhaps, succeed -in restoring her to them, if she is not obstinate but I trace lines -of force in her face which make me sceptical of her tractability." -He stood considering me some minutes then added, "She looks -sensible, but not at all handsome." -"She is so ill, St. John." -"Ill or well, she would always be plain. The grace and harmony of -beauty are quite wanting in those features." -On the third day I was better on the fourth, I could speak, move, -rise in bed, and turn. Hannah had brought me some gruel and dry -toast, about, as I supposed, the dinnerhour. I had eaten with -relish the food was good void of the feverish flavour which -had hitherto poisoned what I had swallowed. When she left me, I -felt comparatively strong and revived ere long satiety of repose -and desire for action stirred me. I wished to rise but what could -I put on? Only my damp and bemired apparel in which I had slept -on the ground and fallen in the marsh. I felt ashamed to appear -before my benefactors so clad. I was spared the humiliation. -On a chair by the bedside were all my own things, clean and dry. -My black silk frock hung against the wall. The traces of the bog -were removed from it the creases left by the wet smoothed out it -was quite decent. My very shoes and stockings were purified and -rendered presentable. There were the means of washing in the room, -and a comb and brush to smooth my hair. After a weary process, -and resting every five minutes, I succeeded in dressing myself. -My clothes hung loose on me for I was much wasted, but I covered -deficiencies with a shawl, and once more, clean and respectable looking -no speck of the dirt, no trace of the disorder I so hated, and -which seemed so to degrade me, left I crept down a stone staircase -with the aid of the banisters, to a narrow low passage, and found -my way presently to the kitchen. -It was full of the fragrance of new bread and the warmth of a -generous fire. Hannah was baking. Prejudices, it is well known, -are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never -been loosened or fertilised by education they grow there, firm -as weeds among stones. Hannah had been cold and stiff, indeed, -at the first latterly she had begun to relent a little and when -she saw me come in tidy and welldressed, she even smiled. -"What, you have got up" she said. "You are better, then. You -may sit you down in my chair on the hearthstone, if you will." -She pointed to the rockingchair I took it. She bustled about, -examining me every now and then with the corner of her eye. Turning -to me, as she took some loaves from the oven, she asked bluntly -"Did you ever go abegging afore you came here?" -I was indignant for a moment but remembering that anger was out -of the question, and that I had indeed appeared as a beggar to her, -I answered quietly, but still not without a certain marked firmness -"You are mistaken in supposing me a beggar. I am no beggar any -more than yourself or your young ladies." -After a pause she said, "I dunnut understand that you've like no -house, nor no brass, I guess?" -"The want of house or brass by which I suppose you mean money -does not make a beggar in your sense of the word." -"Are you booklearned?" she inquired presently. -"Yes, very." -"But you've never been to a boardingschool?" -"I was at a boardingschool eight years." -She opened her eyes wide. "Whatever cannot ye keep yourself for, -then?" -"I have kept myself and, I trust, shall keep myself again. What -are you going to do with these gooseberries?" I inquired, as she -brought out a basket of the fruit. -"Mak' 'em into pies." -"Give them to me and I'll pick them." -"Nay I dunnut want ye to do nought." -"But I must do something. Let me have them." -She consented and she even brought me a clean towel to spread over -my dress, "lest," as she said, "I should mucky it." -"Ye've not been used to sarvant's wark, I see by your hands," she -remarked. "Happen ye've been a dressmaker?" -"No, you are wrong. And now, never mind what I have been don't -trouble your head further about me but tell me the name of the -house where we are." -"Some calls it Marsh End, and some calls it Moor House." -"And the gentleman who lives here is called Mr. St. John?" -"Nay he doesn't live here he is only staying a while. When he -is at home, he is in his own parish at Morton." -"That village a few miles off? -"Aye." -"And what is he?" -"He is a parson." -I remembered the answer of the old housekeeper at the parsonage, -when I had asked to see the clergyman. "This, then, was his father's -residence?" -"Aye old Mr. Rivers lived here, and his father, and grandfather, -and gurt great grandfather afore him." -"The name, then, of that gentleman, is Mr. St. John Rivers?" -"Aye St. John is like his kirstened name." -"And his sisters are called Diana and Mary Rivers?" -"Yes." -"Their father is dead?" -"Dead three weeks sin' of a stroke." -"They have no mother?" -"The mistress has been dead this mony a year." -"Have you lived with the family long?" -"I've lived here thirty year. I nursed them all three." -"That proves you must have been an honest and faithful servant. -I will say so much for you, though you have had the incivility to -call me a beggar." -She again regarded me with a surprised stare. "I believe," she -said, "I was quite mista'en in my thoughts of you but there is -so mony cheats goes about, you mun forgie me." -"And though," I continued, rather severely, "you wished to turn me -from the door, on a night when you should not have shut out a dog." -"Well, it was hard but what can a body do? I thought more o' th' -childer nor of mysel poor things They've like nobody to tak' -care on 'em but me. I'm like to look sharpish." -I maintained a grave silence for some minutes. -"You munnut think too hardly of me," she again remarked. -"But I do think hardly of you," I said "and I'll tell you why -not so much because you refused to give me shelter, or regarded me -as an impostor, as because you just now made it a species of reproach -that I had no 'brass' and no house. Some of the best people that -ever lived have been as destitute as I am and if you are a Christian, -you ought not to consider poverty a crime." -"No more I ought," said she "Mr. St. John tells me so too and -I see I wor wrang but I've clear a different notion on you now -to what I had. You look a raight down dacent little crater." -"That will do I forgive you now. Shake hands." -She put her floury and horny hand into mine another and heartier -smile illumined her rough face, and from that moment we were friends. -Hannah was evidently fond of talking. While I picked the fruit, -and she made the paste for the pies, she proceeded to give me sundry -details about her deceased master and mistress, and "the childer," -as she called the young people. -Old Mr. Rivers, she said, was a plain man enough, but a gentleman, and -of as ancient a family as could be found. Marsh End had belonged -to the Rivers ever since it was a house and it was, she affirmed, -"aboon two hundred year old for all it looked but a small, -humble place, naught to compare wi' Mr. Oliver's grand hall down -i' Morton Vale. But she could remember Bill Oliver's father a -journeyman needlemaker and th' Rivers wor gentry i' th' owd days -o' th' Henrys, as onybody might see by looking into th' registers -i' Morton Church vestry." Still, she allowed, "the owd maister was -like other folk naught mich out o' t' common way stark mad o' -shooting, and farming, and sich like." The mistress was different. -She was a great reader, and studied a deal and the "bairns" had -taken after her. There was nothing like them in these parts, nor -ever had been they had liked learning, all three, almost from -the time they could speak and they had always been "of a mak' of -their own." Mr. St. John, when he grew up, would go to college -and be a parson and the girls, as soon as they left school, would -seek places as governesses for they had told her their father had -some years ago lost a great deal of money by a man he had trusted -turning bankrupt and as he was now not rich enough to give them -fortunes, they must provide for themselves. They had lived very -little at home for a long while, and were only come now to stay a -few weeks on account of their father's death but they did so like -Marsh End and Morton, and all these moors and hills about. They -had been in London, and many other grand towns but they always -said there was no place like home and then they were so agreeable -with each other never fell out nor "threaped." She did not know -where there was such a family for being united. -Having finished my task of gooseberry picking, I asked where the -two ladies and their brother were now. -"Gone over to Morton for a walk but they would be back in halfanhour -to tea." -They returned within the time Hannah had allotted them they -entered by the kitchen door. Mr. St. John, when he saw me, merely -bowed and passed through the two ladies stopped Mary, in a few -words, kindly and calmly expressed the pleasure she felt in seeing -me well enough to be able to come down Diana took my hand she -shook her head at me. -"You should have waited for my leave to descend," she said. "You -still look very pale and so thin Poor child poor girl" -Diana had a voice toned, to my ear, like the cooing of a dove. -She possessed eyes whose gaze I delighted to encounter. Her whole -face seemed to me full of charm. Mary's countenance was equally -intelligent her features equally pretty but her expression -was more reserved, and her manners, though gentle, more distant. -Diana looked and spoke with a certain authority she had a will, -evidently. It was my nature to feel pleasure in yielding to an -authority supported like hers, and to bend, where my conscience -and selfrespect permitted, to an active will. -"And what business have you here?" she continued. "It is not your -place. Mary and I sit in the kitchen sometimes, because at home -we like to be free, even to license but you are a visitor, and -must go into the parlour." -"I am very well here." -"Not at all, with Hannah bustling about and covering you with -flour." -"Besides, the fire is too hot for you," interposed Mary. -"To be sure," added her sister. "Come, you must be obedient." And -still holding my hand she made me rise, and led me into the inner -room. -"Sit there," she said, placing me on the sofa, "while we take -our things off and get the tea ready it is another privilege we -exercise in our little moorland home to prepare our own meals -when we are so inclined, or when Hannah is baking, brewing, washing, -or ironing." -She closed the door, leaving me solus with Mr. St. John, who sat -opposite, a book or newspaper in his hand. I examined first, the -parlour, and then its occupant. -The parlour was rather a small room, very plainly furnished, yet -comfortable, because clean and neat. The oldfashioned chairs were -very bright, and the walnutwood table was like a lookingglass. A -few strange, antique portraits of the men and women of other days -decorated the stained walls a cupboard with glass doors contained -some books and an ancient set of china. There was no superfluous -ornament in the room not one modern piece of furniture, save a -brace of workboxes and a lady's desk in rosewood, which stood on -a sidetable everything including the carpet and curtains -looked at once well worn and well saved. -Mr. St. John sitting as still as one of the dusty pictures on -the walls, keeping his eyes fixed on the page he perused, and his -lips mutely sealed was easy enough to examine. Had he been -a statue instead of a man, he could not have been easier. He was -young perhaps from twentyeight to thirty tall, slender -his face riveted the eye it was like a Greek face, very pure in -outline quite a straight, classic nose quite an Athenian mouth -and chin. It is seldom, indeed, an English face comes so near the -antique models as did his. He might well be a little shocked at -the irregularity of my lineaments, his own being so harmonious. -His eyes were large and blue, with brown lashes his high forehead, -colourless as ivory, was partially streaked over by careless locks -of fair hair. -This is a gentle delineation, is it not, reader? Yet he whom -it describes scarcely impressed one with the idea of a gentle, a -yielding, an impressible, or even of a placid nature. Quiescent -as he now sat, there was something about his nostril, his mouth, -his brow, which, to my perceptions, indicated elements within either -restless, or hard, or eager. He did not speak to me one word, nor -even direct to me one glance, till his sisters returned. Diana, -as she passed in and out, in the course of preparing tea, brought -me a little cake, baked on the top of the oven. -"Eat that now," she said "you must be hungry. Hannah says you -have had nothing but some gruel since breakfast." -I did not refuse it, for my appetite was awakened and keen. Mr. -Rivers now closed his book, approached the table, and, as he took -a seat, fixed his blue pictoriallooking eyes full on me. There -was an unceremonious directness, a searching, decided steadfastness -in his gaze now, which told that intention, and not diffidence, -had hitherto kept it averted from the stranger. -"You are very hungry," he said. -"I am, sir." It is my way it always was my way, by instinct -ever to meet the brief with brevity, the direct with plainness. -"It is well for you that a low fever has forced you to abstain for -the last three days there would have been danger in yielding to -the cravings of your appetite at first. Now you may eat, though -still not immoderately." -"I trust I shall not eat long at your expense, sir," was my very -clumsilycontrived, unpolished answer. -"No," he said coolly "when you have indicated to us the residence -of your friends, we can write to them, and you may be restored to -home." -"That, I must plainly tell you, is out of my power to do being -absolutely without home and friends." -The three looked at me, but not distrustfully I felt there was no -suspicion in their glances there was more of curiosity. I speak -particularly of the young ladies. St. John's eyes, though clear -enough in a literal sense, in a figurative one were difficult -to fathom. He seemed to use them rather as instruments to search -other people's thoughts, than as agents to reveal his own the -which combination of keenness and reserve was considerably more -calculated to embarrass than to encourage. -"Do you mean to say," he asked, "that you are completely isolated -from every connection?" -"I do. Not a tie links me to any living thing not a claim do I -possess to admittance under any roof in England." -"A most singular position at your age" -Here I saw his glance directed to my hands, which were folded on -the table before me. I wondered what he sought there his words -soon explained the quest. -"You have never been married? You are a spinster?" -Diana laughed. "Why, she can't he above seventeen or eighteen -years old, St. John," said she. -"I am near nineteen but I am not married. No." -I felt a burning glow mount to my face for bitter and agitating -recollections were awakened by the allusion to marriage. They all -saw the embarrassment and the emotion. Diana and Mary relieved me -by turning their eyes elsewhere than to my crimsoned visage but -the colder and sterner brother continued to gaze, till the trouble -he had excited forced out tears as well as colour. -"Where did you last reside?" he now asked. -"You are too inquisitive, St. John," murmured Mary in a low voice -but he leaned over the table and required an answer by a second -firm and piercing look. -"The name of the place where, and of the person with whom I lived, -is my secret," I replied concisely. -"Which, if you like, you have, in my opinion, a right to keep, both -from St. John and every other questioner," remarked Diana. -"Yet if I know nothing about you or your history, I cannot help -you," he said. "And you need help, do you not?" -"I need it, and I seek it so far, sir, that some true philanthropist -will put me in the way of getting work which I can do, and the -remuneration for which will keep me, if but in the barest necessaries -of life." -"I know not whether I am a true philanthropist yet I am willing to -aid you to the utmost of my power in a purpose so honest. First, -then, tell me what you have been accustomed to do, and what you -CAN do." -I had now swallowed my tea. I was mightily refreshed by the beverage -as much so as a giant with wine it gave new tone to my unstrung -nerves, and enabled me to address this penetrating young judge -steadily. -"Mr. Rivers," I said, turning to him, and looking at him, as he -looked at me, openly and without diffidence, "you and your sisters -have done me a great service the greatest man can do his fellow -being you have rescued me, by your noble hospitality, from death. -This benefit conferred gives you an unlimited claim on my gratitude, -and a claim, to a certain extent, on my confidence. I will tell -you as much of the history of the wanderer you have harboured, -as I can tell without compromising my own peace of mind my own -security, moral and physical, and that of others. -"I am an orphan, the daughter of a clergyman. My parents died -before I could know them. I was brought up a dependant educated -in a charitable institution. I will even tell you the name of the -establishment, where I passed six years as a pupil, and two as a -teacher Lowood Orphan Asylum, shire you will have heard of -it, Mr. Rivers? the Rev. Robert Brocklehurst is the treasurer." -"I have heard of Mr. Brocklehurst, and I have seen the school." -"I left Lowood nearly a year since to become a private governess. -I obtained a good situation, and was happy. This place I was -obliged to leave four days before I came here. The reason of my -departure I cannot and ought not to explain it would be useless, -dangerous, and would sound incredible. No blame attached to me -I am as free from culpability as any one of you three. Miserable -I am, and must be for a time for the catastrophe which drove me -from a house I had found a paradise was of a strange and direful -nature. I observed but two points in planning my departure speed, -secrecy to secure these, I had to leave behind me everything I -possessed except a small parcel which, in my hurry and trouble of -mind, I forgot to take out of the coach that brought me to Whitcross. -To this neighbourhood, then, I came, quite destitute. I slept two -nights in the open air, and wandered about two days without crossing -a threshold but twice in that space of time did I taste food -and it was when brought by hunger, exhaustion, and despair almost -to the last gasp, that you, Mr. Rivers, forbade me to perish of -want at your door, and took me under the shelter of your roof. I -know all your sisters have done for me since for I have not -been insensible during my seeming torpor and I owe to their -spontaneous, genuine, genial compassion as large a debt as to your -evangelical charity." -"Don't make her talk any more now, St. John," said Diana, as I -paused "she is evidently not yet fit for excitement. Come to the -sofa and sit down now, Miss Elliott." -I gave an involuntary half start at hearing the alias I had -forgotten my new name. Mr. Rivers, whom nothing seemed to escape, -noticed it at once. -"You said your name was Jane Elliott?" he observed. -"I did say so and it is the name by which I think it expedient to -be called at present, but it is not my real name, and when I hear -it, it sounds strange to me." -"Your real name you will not give?" -"No I fear discovery above all things and whatever disclosure -would lead to it, I avoid." -"You are quite right, I am sure," said Diana. "Now do, brother, -let her be at peace a while." -But when St. John had mused a few moments he recommenced as -imperturbably and with as much acumen as ever. -"You would not like to be long dependent on our hospitality you -would wish, I see, to dispense as soon as may be with my sisters' -compassion, and, above all, with my CHARITY I am quite sensible -of the distinction drawn, nor do I resent it it is just you -desire to be independent of us?" -"I do I have already said so. Show me how to work, or how to seek -work that is all I now ask then let me go, if it be but to the -meanest cottage but till then, allow me to stay here I dread -another essay of the horrors of homeless destitution." -"Indeed you SHALL stay here," said Diana, putting her white hand on -my head. "You SHALL," repeated Mary, in the tone of undemonstrative -sincerity which seemed natural to her. -"My sisters, you see, have a pleasure in keeping you," said Mr. -St. John, "as they would have a pleasure in keeping and cherishing -a halffrozen bird, some wintry wind might have driven through -their casement. I feel more inclination to put you in the way of -keeping yourself, and shall endeavour to do so but observe, my -sphere is narrow. I am but the incumbent of a poor country parish -my aid must be of the humblest sort. And if you are inclined to -despise the day of small things, seek some more efficient succour -than such as I can offer." -"She has already said that she is willing to do anything honest -she can do," answered Diana for me "and you know, St. John, she -has no choice of helpers she is forced to put up with such crusty -people as you." -"I will be a dressmaker I will be a plainworkwoman I will be a -servant, a nursegirl, if I can be no better," I answered. -"Right," said Mr. St. John, quite coolly. "If such is your spirit, -I promise to aid you, in my own time and way." -He now resumed the book with which he had been occupied before tea. -I soon withdrew, for I had talked as much, and sat up as long, as -my present strength would permit. -CHAPTER XXX -The more I knew of the inmates of Moor House, the better I liked -them. In a few days I had so far recovered my health that I could -sit up all day, and walk out sometimes. I could join with Diana -and Mary in all their occupations converse with them as much as -they wished, and aid them when and where they would allow me. There -was a reviving pleasure in this intercourse, of a kind now tasted -by me for the first time the pleasure arising from perfect -congeniality of tastes, sentiments, and principles. -I liked to read what they liked to read what they enjoyed, -delighted me what they approved, I reverenced. They loved their -sequestered home. I, too, in the grey, small, antique structure, -with its low roof, its latticed casements, its mouldering walls, -its avenue of aged firs all grown aslant under the stress of -mountain winds its garden, dark with yew and holly and where -no flowers but of the hardiest species would bloom found a charm -both potent and permanent. They clung to the purple moors behind -and around their dwelling to the hollow vale into which the -pebbly bridlepath leading from their gate descended, and which -wound between fernbanks first, and then amongst a few of the -wildest little pasturefields that ever bordered a wilderness of -heath, or gave sustenance to a flock of grey moorland sheep, with -their little mossyfaced lambs they clung to this scene, I say, -with a perfect enthusiasm of attachment. I could comprehend the -feeling, and share both its strength and truth. I saw the fascination -of the locality. I felt the consecration of its loneliness my eye -feasted on the outline of swell and sweep on the wild colouring -communicated to ridge and dell by moss, by heathbell, by -flowersprinkled turf, by brilliant bracken, and mellow granite -crag. These details were just to me what they were to them so -many pure and sweet sources of pleasure. The strong blast and the -soft breeze the rough and the halcyon day the hours of sunrise -and sunset the moonlight and the clouded night, developed for me, -in these regions, the same attraction as for them wound round -my faculties the same spell that entranced theirs. -Indoors we agreed equally well. They were both more accomplished -and better read than I was but with eagerness I followed in the -path of knowledge they had trodden before me. I devoured the books -they lent me then it was full satisfaction to discuss with them -in the evening what I had perused during the day. Thought fitted -thought opinion met opinion we coincided, in short, perfectly. -If in our trio there was a superior and a leader, it was Diana. -Physically, she far excelled me she was handsome she was vigorous. -In her animal spirits there was an affluence of life and certainty -of flow, such as excited my wonder, while it baffled my comprehension. -I could talk a while when the evening commenced, but the first -gush of vivacity and fluency gone, I was fain to sit on a stool at -Diana's feet, to rest my head on her knee, and listen alternately -to her and Mary, while they sounded thoroughly the topic on which -I had but touched. Diana offered to teach me German. I liked to -learn of her I saw the part of instructress pleased and suited -her that of scholar pleased and suited me no less. Our natures -dovetailed mutual affection of the strongest kind was the -result. They discovered I could draw their pencils and colourboxes -were immediately at my service. My skill, greater in this one -point than theirs, surprised and charmed them. Mary would sit and -watch me by the hour together then she would take lessons and -a docile, intelligent, assiduous pupil she made. Thus occupied, -and mutually entertained, days passed like hours, and weeks like -days. -As to Mr. St John, the intimacy which had arisen so naturally and -rapidly between me and his sisters did not extend to him. One -reason of the distance yet observed between us was, that he -was comparatively seldom at home a large proportion of his time -appeared devoted to visiting the sick and poor among the scattered -population of his parish. -No weather seemed to hinder him in these pastoral excursions rain -or fair, he would, when his hours of morning study were over, take -his hat, and, followed by his father's old pointer, Carlo, go out -on his mission of love or duty I scarcely know in which light -he regarded it. Sometimes, when the day was very unfavourable, -his sisters would expostulate. He would then say, with a peculiar -smile, more solemn than cheerful -"And if I let a gust of wind or a sprinkling of rain turn me aside -from these easy tasks, what preparation would such sloth be for -the future I propose to myself?" -Diana and Mary's general answer to this question was a sigh, and -some minutes of apparently mournful meditation. -But besides his frequent absences, there was another barrier to -friendship with him he seemed of a reserved, an abstracted, and -even of a brooding nature. Zealous in his ministerial labours, -blameless in his life and habits, he yet did not appear to enjoy -that mental serenity, that inward content, which should be the -reward of every sincere Christian and practical philanthropist. -Often, of an evening, when he sat at the window, his desk and papers -before him, he would cease reading or writing, rest his chin on his -hand, and deliver himself up to I know not what course of thought -but that it was perturbed and exciting might be seen in the frequent -flash and changeful dilation of his eye. -I think, moreover, that Nature was not to him that treasury of -delight it was to his sisters. He expressed once, and but once in -my hearing, a strong sense of the rugged charm of the hills, and -an inborn affection for the dark roof and hoary walls he called -his home but there was more of gloom than pleasure in the tone -and words in which the sentiment was manifested and never did he -seem to roam the moors for the sake of their soothing silence -never seek out or dwell upon the thousand peaceful delights they -could yield. -Incommunicative as he was, some time elapsed before I had -an opportunity of gauging his mind. I first got an idea of its -calibre when I heard him preach in his own church at Morton. I wish -I could describe that sermon but it is past my power. I cannot -even render faithfully the effect it produced on me. -It began calm and indeed, as far as delivery and pitch of voice -went, it was calm to the end an earnestly felt, yet strictly -restrained zeal breathed soon in the distinct accents, and prompted -the nervous language. This grew to force compressed, condensed, -controlled. The heart was thrilled, the mind astonished, by the -power of the preacher neither were softened. Throughout there -was a strange bitterness an absence of consolatory gentleness -stern allusions to Calvinistic doctrines election, predestination, -reprobation were frequent and each reference to these points -sounded like a sentence pronounced for doom. When he had done, -instead of feeling better, calmer, more enlightened by his discourse, -I experienced an inexpressible sadness for it seemed to me I -know not whether equally so to others that the eloquence to which -I had been listening had sprung from a depth where lay turbid dregs -of disappointment where moved troubling impulses of insatiate -yearnings and disquieting aspirations. I was sure St. John Rivers -purelived, conscientious, zealous as he was had not yet -found that peace of God which passeth all understanding he had no -more found it, I thought, than had I with my concealed and racking -regrets for my broken idol and lost elysium regrets to which I -have latterly avoided referring, but which possessed me and tyrannised -over me ruthlessly. -Meantime a month was gone. Diana and Mary were soon to leave Moor -House, and return to the far different life and scene which awaited -them, as governesses in a large, fashionable, southofEngland -city, where each held a situation in families by whose wealthy -and haughty members they were regarded only as humble dependants, -and who neither knew nor sought out their innate excellences, and -appreciated only their acquired accomplishments as they appreciated -the skill of their cook or the taste of their waitingwoman. Mr. -St. John had said nothing to me yet about the employment he had -promised to obtain for me yet it became urgent that I should have -a vocation of some kind. One morning, being left alone with him a -few minutes in the parlour, I ventured to approach the windowrecess -which his table, chair, and desk consecrated as a kind of study -and I was going to speak, though not very well knowing in what -words to frame my inquiry for it is at all times difficult to -break the ice of reserve glassing over such natures as his when -he saved me the trouble by being the first to commence a dialogue. -Looking up as I drew near "You have a question to ask of me?" -he said. -"Yes I wish to know whether you have heard of any service I can -offer myself to undertake?" -"I found or devised something for you three weeks ago but as you -seemed both useful and happy here as my sisters had evidently -become attached to you, and your society gave them unusual pleasure -I deemed it inexpedient to break in on your mutual comfort till -their approaching departure from Marsh End should render yours -necessary." -"And they will go in three days now?" I said. -"Yes and when they go, I shall return to the parsonage at Morton -Hannah will accompany me and this old house will be shut up." -I waited a few moments, expecting he would go on with the subject -first broached but he seemed to have entered another train of -reflection his look denoted abstraction from me and my business. -I was obliged to recall him to a theme which was of necessity one -of close and anxious interest to me. -"What is the employment you had in view, Mr. Rivers? I hope this -delay will not have increased the difficulty of securing it." -"Oh, no since it is an employment which depends only on me to -give, and you to accept." -He again paused there seemed a reluctance to continue. I grew -impatient a restless movement or two, and an eager and exacting -glance fastened on his face, conveyed the feeling to him as -effectually as words could have done, and with less trouble. -"You need be in no hurry to hear," he said "let me frankly tell -you, I have nothing eligible or profitable to suggest. Before I -explain, recall, if you please, my notice, clearly given, that if -I helped you, it must be as the blind man would help the lame. I -am poor for I find that, when I have paid my father's debts, all -the patrimony remaining to me will be this crumbling grange, the -row of scathed firs behind, and the patch of moorish soil, with the -yewtrees and hollybushes in front. I am obscure Rivers is an -old name but of the three sole descendants of the race, two earn -the dependant's crust among strangers, and the third considers -himself an alien from his native country not only for life, but -in death. Yes, and deems, and is bound to deem, himself honoured by -the lot, and aspires but after the day when the cross of separation -from fleshly ties shall be laid on his shoulders, and when the -Head of that churchmilitant of whose humblest members he is one, -shall give the word, 'Rise, follow Me'" -St. John said these words as he pronounced his sermons, with -a quiet, deep voice with an unflushed cheek, and a coruscating -radiance of glance. He resumed -"And since I am myself poor and obscure, I can offer you but a -service of poverty and obscurity. YOU may even think it degrading -for I see now your habits have been what the world calls refined -your tastes lean to the ideal, and your society has at least been -amongst the educated but I consider that no service degrades which -can better our race. I hold that the more arid and unreclaimed -the soil where the Christian labourer's task of tillage is appointed -him the scantier the meed his toil brings the higher the honour. -His, under such circumstances, is the destiny of the pioneer and -the first pioneers of the Gospel were the Apostles their captain -was Jesus, the Redeemer, Himself." -"Well?" I said, as he again paused "proceed." -He looked at me before he proceeded indeed, he seemed leisurely -to read my face, as if its features and lines were characters -on a page. The conclusions drawn from this scrutiny he partially -expressed in his succeeding observations. -"I believe you will accept the post I offer you," said he, "and -hold it for a while not permanently, though any more than I -could permanently keep the narrow and narrowing the tranquil, -hidden office of English country incumbent for in your nature -is an alloy as detrimental to repose as that in mine, though of a -different kind." -"Do explain," I urged, when he halted once more. -"I will and you shall hear how poor the proposal is, how trivial -how cramping. I shall not stay long at Morton, now that my -father is dead, and that I am my own master. I shall leave the -place probably in the course of a twelvemonth but while I do stay, -I will exert myself to the utmost for its improvement. Morton, -when I came to it two years ago, had no school the children of -the poor were excluded from every hope of progress. I established -one for boys I mean now to open a second school for girls. I -have hired a building for the purpose, with a cottage of two rooms -attached to it for the mistress's house. Her salary will be thirty -pounds a year her house is already furnished, very simply, but -sufficiently, by the kindness of a lady, Miss Oliver the only -daughter of the sole rich man in my parish Mr. Oliver, the -proprietor of a needlefactory and ironfoundry in the valley. The -same lady pays for the education and clothing of an orphan from -the workhouse, on condition that she shall aid the mistress in such -menial offices connected with her own house and the school as her -occupation of teaching will prevent her having time to discharge -in person. Will you be this mistress?" -He put the question rather hurriedly he seemed half to expect an -indignant, or at least a disdainful rejection of the offer not -knowing all my thoughts and feelings, though guessing some, he -could not tell in what light the lot would appear to me. In truth -it was humble but then it was sheltered, and I wanted a safe asylum -it was plodding but then, compared with that of a governess in -a rich house, it was independent and the fear of servitude with -strangers entered my soul like iron it was not ignoble not -unworthy not mentally degrading, I made my decision. -"I thank you for the proposal, Mr. Rivers, and I accept it with -all my heart." -"But you comprehend me?" he said. "It is a village school your -scholars will be only poor girls cottagers' children at the -best, farmers' daughters. Knitting, sewing, reading, writing, -ciphering, will be all you will have to teach. What will you do -with your accomplishments? What, with the largest portion of your -mind sentiments tastes?" -"Save them till they are wanted. They will keep." -"You know what you undertake, then?" -"I do." -He now smiled and not a bitter or a sad smile, but one well -pleased and deeply gratified. -"And when will you commence the exercise of your function?" -"I will go to my house tomorrow, and open the school, if you like, -next week." -"Very well so be it." -He rose and walked through the room. Standing still, he again -looked at me. He shook his head. -"What do you disapprove of, Mr. Rivers?" I asked. -"You will not stay at Morton long no, no" -"Why? What is your reason for saying so?" -"I read it in your eye it is not of that description which promises -the maintenance of an even tenor in life." -"I am not ambitious." -He started at the word "ambitious." He repeated, "No. What made -you think of ambition? Who is ambitious? I know I am but how -did you find it out?" -"I was speaking of myself." -"Well, if you are not ambitious, you are " He paused. -"What?" -"I was going to say, impassioned but perhaps you would have -misunderstood the word, and been displeased. I mean, that human -affections and sympathies have a most powerful hold on you. I am -sure you cannot long be content to pass your leisure in solitude, -and to devote your working hours to a monotonous labour wholly -void of stimulus any more than I can be content," he added, with -emphasis, "to live here buried in morass, pent in with mountains -my nature, that God gave me, contravened my faculties, -heavenbestowed, paralysed made useless. You hear now how I -contradict myself. I, who preached contentment with a humble lot, -and justified the vocation even of hewers of wood and drawers of -water in God's service I, His ordained minister, almost rave -in my restlessness. Well, propensities and principles must be -reconciled by some means." -He left the room. In this brief hour I had learnt more of him than -in the whole previous month yet still he puzzled me. -Diana and Mary Rivers became more sad and silent as the day -approached for leaving their brother and their home. They both -tried to appear as usual but the sorrow they had to struggle against -was one that could not be entirely conquered or concealed. Diana -intimated that this would be a different parting from any they had -ever yet known. It would probably, as far as St. John was concerned, -be a parting for years it might be a parting for life. -"He will sacrifice all to his longframed resolves," she said -"natural affection and feelings more potent still. St. John looks -quiet, Jane but he hides a fever in his vitals. You would think -him gentle, yet in some things he is inexorable as death and the -worst of it is, my conscience will hardly permit me to dissuade him -from his severe decision certainly, I cannot for a moment blame -him for it. It is right, noble, Christian yet it breaks my -heart" And the tears gushed to her fine eyes. Mary bent her head -low over her work. -"We are now without father we shall soon be without home and -brother," she murmured, -At that moment a little accident supervened, which seemed decreed -by fate purposely to prove the truth of the adage, that "misfortunes -never come singly," and to add to their distresses the vexing one -of the slip between the cup and the lip. St. John passed the window -reading a letter. He entered. -"Our uncle John is dead," said he. -Both the sisters seemed struck not shocked or appalled the -tidings appeared in their eyes rather momentous than afflicting. -"Dead?" repeated Diana. -"Yes." -She riveted a searching gaze on her brother's face. "And what -then?" she demanded, in a low voice. -"What then, Die?" he replied, maintaining a marble immobility of -feature. "What then? Why nothing. Read." -He threw the letter into her lap. She glanced over it, and handed -it to Mary. Mary perused it in silence, and returned it to her -brother. All three looked at each other, and all three smiled -a dreary, pensive smile enough. -"Amen We can yet live," said Diana at last. -"At any rate, it makes us no worse off than we were before," remarked -Mary. -"Only it forces rather strongly on the mind the picture of what -MIGHT HAVE BEEN," said Mr. Rivers, "and contrasts it somewhat too -vividly with what IS." -He folded the letter, locked it in his desk, and again went out. -For some minutes no one spoke. Diana then turned to me. -"Jane, you will wonder at us and our mysteries," she said, "and -think us hardhearted beings not to be more moved at the death of -so near a relation as an uncle but we have never seen him or known -him. He was my mother's brother. My father and he quarrelled -long ago. It was by his advice that my father risked most of his -property in the speculation that ruined him. Mutual recrimination -passed between them they parted in anger, and were never reconciled. -My uncle engaged afterwards in more prosperous undertakings it -appears he realised a fortune of twenty thousand pounds. He -was never married, and had no near kindred but ourselves and one -other person, not more closely related than we. My father always -cherished the idea that he would atone for his error by leaving his -possessions to us that letter informs us that he has bequeathed -every penny to the other relation, with the exception of thirty -guineas, to be divided between St. John, Diana, and Mary Rivers, for -the purchase of three mourning rings. He had a right, of course, -to do as he pleased and yet a momentary damp is cast on the -spirits by the receipt of such news. Mary and I would have esteemed -ourselves rich with a thousand pounds each and to St. John such -a sum would have been valuable, for the good it would have enabled -him to do." -This explanation given, the subject was dropped, and no further -reference made to it by either Mr. Rivers or his sisters. The next -day I left Marsh End for Morton. The day after, Diana and Mary -quitted it for distant B. In a week, Mr. Rivers and Hannah repaired -to the parsonage and so the old grange was abandoned. -CHAPTER XXXI -My home, then, when I at last find a home, is a cottage a -little room with whitewashed walls and a sanded floor, containing -four painted chairs and a table, a clock, a cupboard, with two or -three plates and dishes, and a set of teathings in delf. Above, a -chamber of the same dimensions as the kitchen, with a deal bedstead -and chest of drawers small, yet too large to be filled with my -scanty wardrobe though the kindness of my gentle and generous -friends has increased that, by a modest stock of such things as -are necessary. -It is evening. I have dismissed, with the fee of an orange, the -little orphan who serves me as a handmaid. I am sitting alone on -the hearth. This morning, the village school opened. I had twenty -scholars. But three of the number can read none write or cipher. -Several knit, and a few sew a little. They speak with the broadest -accent of the district. At present, they and I have a difficulty -in understanding each other's language. Some of them are unmannered, -rough, intractable, as well as ignorant but others are docile, -have a wish to learn, and evince a disposition that pleases me. -I must not forget that these coarselyclad little peasants are of -flesh and blood as good as the scions of gentlest genealogy and -that the germs of native excellence, refinement, intelligence, kind -feeling, are as likely to exist in their hearts as in those of the -bestborn. My duty will be to develop these germs surely I shall -find some happiness in discharging that office. Much enjoyment I -do not expect in the life opening before me yet it will, doubtless, -if I regulate my mind, and exert my powers as I ought, yield me -enough to live on from day to day. -Was I very gleeful, settled, content, during the hours I passed in -yonder bare, humble schoolroom this morning and afternoon? Not to -deceive myself, I must reply No I felt desolate to a degree. I -felt yes, idiot that I am I felt degraded. I doubted I had -taken a step which sank instead of raising me in the scale of social -existence. I was weakly dismayed at the ignorance, the poverty, -the coarseness of all I heard and saw round me. But let me not hate -and despise myself too much for these feelings I know them to be -wrong that is a great step gained I shall strive to overcome -them. Tomorrow, I trust, I shall get the better of them partially -and in a few weeks, perhaps, they will be quite subdued. In a -few months, it is possible, the happiness of seeing progress, and -a change for the better in my scholars may substitute gratification -for disgust. -Meantime, let me ask myself one question Which is better? To -have surrendered to temptation listened to passion made no painful -effort no struggle but to have sunk down in the silken snare -fallen asleep on the flowers covering it wakened in a southern -clime, amongst the luxuries of a pleasure villa to have been -now living in France, Mr. Rochester's mistress delirious with his -love half my time for he would oh, yes, he would have loved -me well for a while. He DID love me no one will ever love me so -again. I shall never more know the sweet homage given to beauty, -youth, and grace for never to any one else shall I seem to -possess these charms. He was fond and proud of me it is what -no man besides will ever be. But where am I wandering, and what -am I saying, and above all, feeling? Whether is it better, I ask, -to be a slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles fevered with -delusive bliss one hour suffocating with the bitterest tears of -remorse and shame the next or to be a villageschoolmistress, -free and honest, in a breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of -England? -Yes I feel now that I was right when I adhered to principle and -law, and scorned and crushed the insane promptings of a frenzied -moment. God directed me to a correct choice I thank His providence -for the guidance -Having brought my eventide musings to this point, I rose, went -to my door, and looked at the sunset of the harvestday, and at -the quiet fields before my cottage, which, with the school, was -distant half a mile from the village. The birds were singing -their last strains -"The air was mild, the dew was balm." -While I looked, I thought myself happy, and was surprised to find -myself ere long weeping and why? For the doom which had reft -me from adhesion to my master for him I was no more to see for -the desperate grief and fatal fury consequences of my departure -which might now, perhaps, be dragging him from the path of right, -too far to leave hope of ultimate restoration thither. At this -thought, I turned my face aside from the lovely sky of eve and lonely -vale of Morton I say LONELY, for in that bend of it visible to -me there was no building apparent save the church and the parsonage, -halfhid in trees, and, quite at the extremity, the roof of Vale -Hall, where the rich Mr. Oliver and his daughter lived. I hid my -eyes, and leant my head against the stone frame of my door but -soon a slight noise near the wicket which shut in my tiny garden -from the meadow beyond it made me look up. A dog old Carlo, -Mr. Rivers' pointer, as I saw in a moment was pushing the gate -with his nose, and St. John himself leant upon it with folded arms -his brow knit, his gaze, grave almost to displeasure, fixed on me. -I asked him to come in. -"No, I cannot stay I have only brought you a little parcel my -sisters left for you. I think it contains a colourbox, pencils, -and paper." -I approached to take it a welcome gift it was. He examined my -face, I thought, with austerity, as I came near the traces of -tears were doubtless very visible upon it. -"Have you found your first day's work harder than you expected?" -he asked. -"Oh, no On the contrary, I think in time I shall get on with my -scholars very well." -"But perhaps your accommodations your cottage your furniture -have disappointed your expectations? They are, in truth, -scanty enough but " I interrupted -"My cottage is clean and weatherproof my furniture sufficient -and commodious. All I see has made me thankful, not despondent. -I am not absolutely such a fool and sensualist as to regret the -absence of a carpet, a sofa, and silver plate besides, five weeks -ago I had nothing I was an outcast, a beggar, a vagrant now I -have acquaintance, a home, a business. I wonder at the goodness -of God the generosity of my friends the bounty of my lot. I do -not repine." -"But you feel solitude an oppression? The little house there behind -you is dark and empty." -"I have hardly had time yet to enjoy a sense of tranquillity, much -less to grow impatient under one of loneliness." -"Very well I hope you feel the content you express at any rate, -your good sense will tell you that it is too soon yet to yield to -the vacillating fears of Lot's wife. What you had left before I -saw you, of course I do not know but I counsel you to resist firmly -every temptation which would incline you to look back pursue your -present career steadily, for some months at least." -"It is what I mean to do," I answered. St. John continued -"It is hard work to control the workings of inclination and turn -the bent of nature but that it may be done, I know from experience. -God has given us, in a measure, the power to make our own fate -and when our energies seem to demand a sustenance they cannot get -when our will strains after a path we may not follow we need -neither starve from inanition, nor stand still in despair we -have but to seek another nourishment for the mind, as strong as the -forbidden food it longed to taste and perhaps purer and to hew -out for the adventurous foot a road as direct and broad as the one -Fortune has blocked up against us, if rougher than it. -"A year ago I was myself intensely miserable, because I thought I -had made a mistake in entering the ministry its uniform duties -wearied me to death. I burnt for the more active life of the -world for the more exciting toils of a literary career for -the destiny of an artist, author, orator anything rather than -that of a priest yes, the heart of a politician, of a soldier, -of a votary of glory, a lover of renown, a luster after power, beat -under my curate's surplice. I considered my life was so wretched, -it must be changed, or I must die. After a season of darkness and -struggling, light broke and relief fell my cramped existence all -at once spread out to a plain without bounds my powers heard a -call from heaven to rise, gather their full strength, spread their -wings, and mount beyond ken. God had an errand for me to bear which -afar, to deliver it well, skill and strength, courage and eloquence, -the best qualifications of soldier, statesman, and orator, were -all needed for these all centre in the good missionary. -"A missionary I resolved to be. From that moment my state of mind -changed the fetters dissolved and dropped from every faculty, -leaving nothing of bondage but its galling soreness which time -only can heal. My father, indeed, imposed the determination, -but since his death, I have not a legitimate obstacle to contend -with some affairs settled, a successor for Morton provided, an -entanglement or two of the feelings broken through or cut asunder -a last conflict with human weakness, in which I know I shall -overcome, because I have vowed that I WILL overcome and I leave -Europe for the East." -He said this, in his peculiar, subdued, yet emphatic voice looking, -when he had ceased speaking, not at me, but at the setting sun, at -which I looked too. Both he and I had our backs towards the path -leading up the field to the wicket. We had heard no step on that -grassgrown track the water running in the vale was the one lulling -sound of the hour and scene we might well then start when -a gay voice, sweet as a silver bell, exclaimed -"Good evening, Mr. Rivers. And good evening, old Carlo. Your dog -is quicker to recognise his friends than you are, sir he pricked -his ears and wagged his tail when I was at the bottom of the field, -and you have your back towards me now." -It was true. Though Mr. Rivers had started at the first of those -musical accents, as if a thunderbolt had split a cloud over his head, -he stood yet, at the close of the sentence, in the same attitude -in which the speaker had surprised him his arm resting on the -gate, his face directed towards the west. He turned at last, with -measured deliberation. A vision, as it seemed to me, had risen at -his side. There appeared, within three feet of him, a form clad -in pure white a youthful, graceful form full, yet fine in -contour and when, after bending to caress Carlo, it lifted up its -head, and threw back a long veil, there bloomed under his glance -a face of perfect beauty. Perfect beauty is a strong expression -but I do not retrace or qualify it as sweet features as ever the -temperate clime of Albion moulded as pure hues of rose and lily -as ever her humid gales and vapoury skies generated and screened, -justified, in this instance, the term. No charm was wanting, no -defect was perceptible the young girl had regular and delicate -lineaments eyes shaped and coloured as we see them in lovely -pictures, large, and dark, and full the long and shadowy eyelash -which encircles a fine eye with so soft a fascination the pencilled -brow which gives such clearness the white smooth forehead, which -adds such repose to the livelier beauties of tint and ray the -cheek oval, fresh, and smooth the lips, fresh too, ruddy, healthy, -sweetly formed the even and gleaming teeth without flaw the -small dimpled chin the ornament of rich, plenteous tresses all -advantages, in short, which, combined, realise the ideal of beauty, -were fully hers. I wondered, as I looked at this fair creature -I admired her with my whole heart. Nature had surely formed her -in a partial mood and, forgetting her usual stinted stepmother -dole of gifts, had endowed this, her darling, with a granddame's -bounty. -What did St. John Rivers think of this earthly angel? I naturally -asked myself that question as I saw him turn to her and look at -her and, as naturally, I sought the answer to the inquiry in his -countenance. He had already withdrawn his eye from the Peri, and -was looking at a humble tuft of daisies which grew by the wicket. -"A lovely evening, but late for you to be out alone," he said, as -he crushed the snowy heads of the closed flowers with his foot. -"Oh, I only came home from S" she mentioned the name of a large -town some twenty miles distant "this afternoon. Papa told me you -had opened your school, and that the new mistress was come and -so I put on my bonnet after tea, and ran up the valley to see her -this is she?" pointing to me. -"It is," said St. John. -"Do you think you shall like Morton?" she asked of me, with a direct -and naive simplicity of tone and manner, pleasing, if childlike. -"I hope I shall. I have many inducements to do so." -"Did you find your scholars as attentive as you expected?" -"Quite." -"Do you like your house?" -"Very much." -"Have I furnished it nicely?" -"Very nicely, indeed." -"And made a good choice of an attendant for you in Alice Wood?" -"You have indeed. She is teachable and handy." This then, I thought, -is Miss Oliver, the heiress favoured, it seems, in the gifts of -fortune, as well as in those of nature What happy combination of -the planets presided over her birth, I wonder? -"I shall come up and help you to teach sometimes," she added. "It -will be a change for me to visit you now and then and I like a -change. Mr. Rivers, I have been SO gay during my stay at S. Last -night, or rather this morning, I was dancing till two o'clock. The -th regiment are stationed there since the riots and the officers -are the most agreeable men in the world they put all our young -knifegrinders and scissor merchants to shame." -It seemed to me that Mr. St. John's under lip protruded, and his -upper lip curled a moment. His mouth certainly looked a good deal -compressed, and the lower part of his face unusually stern and -square, as the laughing girl gave him this information. He lifted -his gaze, too, from the daisies, and turned it on her. An unsmiling, -a searching, a meaning gaze it was. She answered it with a second -laugh, and laughter well became her youth, her roses, her dimples, -her bright eyes. -As he stood, mute and grave, she again fell to caressing Carlo. -"Poor Carlo loves me," said she. "HE is not stern and distant to -his friends and if he could speak, he would not be silent." -As she patted the dog's head, bending with native grace before his -young and austere master, I saw a glow rise to that master's face. -I saw his solemn eye melt with sudden fire, and flicker with -resistless emotion. Flushed and kindled thus, he looked nearly as -beautiful for a man as she for a woman. His chest heaved once, as -if his large heart, weary of despotic constriction, had expanded, -despite the will, and made a vigorous bound for the attainment of -liberty. But he curbed it, I think, as a resolute rider would curb -a rearing steed. He responded neither by word nor movement to the -gentle advances made him. -"Papa says you never come to see us now," continued Miss Oliver, -looking up. "You are quite a stranger at Vale Hall. He is alone -this evening, and not very well will you return with me and visit -him?" -"It is not a seasonable hour to intrude on Mr. Oliver," answered -St. John. -"Not a seasonable hour But I declare it is. It is just the hour -when papa most wants company when the works are closed and he -has no business to occupy him. Now, Mr. Rivers, DO come. Why are -you so very shy, and so very sombre?" She filled up the hiatus -his silence left by a reply of her own. -"I forgot" she exclaimed, shaking her beautiful curled head, as -if shocked at herself. "I am so giddy and thoughtless DO excuse -me. It had slipped my memory that you have good reasons to be -indisposed for joining in my chatter. Diana and Mary have left -you, and Moor House is shut up, and you are so lonely. I am sure -I pity you. Do come and see papa." -"Not tonight, Miss Rosamond, not tonight." -Mr. St. John spoke almost like an automaton himself only knew -the effort it cost him thus to refuse. -"Well, if you are so obstinate, I will leave you for I dare not -stay any longer the dew begins to fall. Good evening" -She held out her hand. He just touched it. "Good evening" he -repeated, in a voice low and hollow as an echo. She turned, but -in a moment returned. -"Are you well?" she asked. Well might she put the question his -face was blanched as her gown. -"Quite well," he enunciated and, with a bow, he left the gate. -She went one way he another. She turned twice to gaze after him -as she tripped fairylike down the field he, as he strode firmly -across, never turned at all. -This spectacle of another's suffering and sacrifice rapt my thoughts -from exclusive meditation on my own. Diana Rivers had designated -her brother "inexorable as death." She had not exaggerated. -CHAPTER XXXII -I continued the labours of the villageschool as actively and -faithfully as I could. It was truly hard work at first. Some time -elapsed before, with all my efforts, I could comprehend my scholars -and their nature. Wholly untaught, with faculties quite torpid, -they seemed to me hopelessly dull and, at first sight, all dull -alike but I soon found I was mistaken. There was a difference -amongst them as amongst the educated and when I got to know them, -and they me, this difference rapidly developed itself. Their -amazement at me, my language, my rules, and ways, once subsided, -I found some of these heavylooking, gaping rustics wake up into -sharpwitted girls enough. Many showed themselves obliging, and -amiable too and I discovered amongst them not a few examples of -natural politeness, and innate selfrespect, as well as of excellent -capacity, that won both my goodwill and my admiration. These soon -took a pleasure in doing their work well, in keeping their persons -neat, in learning their tasks regularly, in acquiring quiet and -orderly manners. The rapidity of their progress, in some instances, -was even surprising and an honest and happy pride I took in it -besides, I began personally to like some of the best girls and they -liked me. I had amongst my scholars several farmers' daughters -young women grown, almost. These could already read, write, and sew -and to them I taught the elements of grammar, geography, history, -and the finer kinds of needlework. I found estimable characters -amongst them characters desirous of information and disposed -for improvement with whom I passed many a pleasant evening hour -in their own homes. Their parents then the farmer and his wife -loaded me with attentions. There was an enjoyment in accepting -their simple kindness, and in repaying it by a consideration -a scrupulous regard to their feelings to which they were -not, perhaps, at all times accustomed, and which both charmed and -benefited them because, while it elevated them in their own eyes, it -made them emulous to merit the deferential treatment they received. -I felt I became a favourite in the neighbourhood. Whenever I went -out, I heard on all sides cordial salutations, and was welcomed with -friendly smiles. To live amidst general regard, though it be but -the regard of working people, is like "sitting in sunshine, calm -and sweet" serene inward feelings bud and bloom under the ray. -At this period of my life, my heart far oftener swelled with -thankfulness than sank with dejection and yet, reader, to tell -you all, in the midst of this calm, this useful existence after -a day passed in honourable exertion amongst my scholars, an evening -spent in drawing or reading contentedly alone I used to rush into -strange dreams at night dreams manycoloured, agitated, full of -the ideal, the stirring, the stormy dreams where, amidst unusual -scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic -chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some -exciting crisis and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing -his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving -him, being loved by him the hope of passing a lifetime at his -side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire. Then -I awoke. Then I recalled where I was, and how situated. Then I -rose up on my curtainless bed, trembling and quivering and then -the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and -heard the burst of passion. By nine o'clock the next morning I -was punctually opening the school tranquil, settled, prepared for -the steady duties of the day. -Rosamond Oliver kept her word in coming to visit me. Her call at -the school was generally made in the course of her morning ride. -She would canter up to the door on her pony, followed by a mounted -livery servant. Anything more exquisite than her appearance, -in her purple habit, with her Amazon's cap of black velvet placed -gracefully above the long curls that kissed her cheek and floated -to her shoulders, can scarcely be imagined and it was thus she -would enter the rustic building, and glide through the dazzled ranks -of the village children. She generally came at the hour when Mr. -Rivers was engaged in giving his daily catechising lesson. Keenly, -I fear, did the eye of the visitress pierce the young pastor's -heart. A sort of instinct seemed to warn him of her entrance, even -when he did not see it and when he was looking quite away from the -door, if she appeared at it, his cheek would glow, and his marble -seeming features, though they refused to relax, changed indescribably, -and in their very quiescence became expressive of a repressed fervour, -stronger than working muscle or darting glance could indicate. -Of course, she knew her power indeed, he did not, because he could -not, conceal it from her. In spite of his Christian stoicism, when -she went up and addressed him, and smiled gaily, encouragingly, -even fondly in his face, his hand would tremble and his eye burn. -He seemed to say, with his sad and resolute look, if he did not -say it with his lips, "I love you, and I know you prefer me. It is -not despair of success that keeps me dumb. If I offered my heart, -I believe you would accept it. But that heart is already laid on -a sacred altar the fire is arranged round it. It will soon be -no more than a sacrifice consumed." -And then she would pout like a disappointed child a pensive cloud -would soften her radiant vivacity she would withdraw her hand -hastily from his, and turn in transient petulance from his aspect, -at once so heroic and so martyrlike. St. John, no doubt, would -have given the world to follow, recall, retain her, when she thus -left him but he would not give one chance of heaven, nor relinquish, -for the elysium of her love, one hope of the true, eternal Paradise. -Besides, he could not bind all that he had in his nature the -rover, the aspirant, the poet, the priest in the limits of a -single passion. He could not he would not renounce his wild -field of mission warfare for the parlours and the peace of Vale -Hall. I learnt so much from himself in an inroad I once, despite -his reserve, had the daring to make on his confidence. -Miss Oliver already honoured me with frequent visits to my cottage. -I had learnt her whole character, which was without mystery or -disguise she was coquettish but not heartless exacting, but not -worthlessly selfish. She had been indulged from her birth, but was -not absolutely spoilt. She was hasty, but goodhumoured vain she -could not help it, when every glance in the glass showed her such -a flush of loveliness, but not affected liberalhanded innocent -of the pride of wealth ingenuous sufficiently intelligent gay, -lively, and unthinking she was very charming, in short, even to -a cool observer of her own sex like me but she was not profoundly -interesting or thoroughly impressive. A very different sort of -mind was hers from that, for instance, of the sisters of St. John. -Still, I liked her almost as I liked my pupil Adele except that, -for a child whom we have watched over and taught, a closer affection is -engendered than we can give an equally attractive adult acquaintance. -She had taken an amiable caprice to me. She said I was like Mr. -Rivers, only, certainly, she allowed, "not onetenth so handsome, -though I was a nice neat little soul enough, but he was an angel." -I was, however, good, clever, composed, and firm, like him. I was -a lusus naturae, she affirmed, as a village schoolmistress she -was sure my previous history, if known, would make a delightful -romance. -One evening, while, with her usual childlike activity, and thoughtless -yet not offensive inquisitiveness, she was rummaging the cupboard -and the tabledrawer of my little kitchen, she discovered first two -French books, a volume of Schiller, a German grammar and dictionary, -and then my drawingmaterials and some sketches, including a -pencilhead of a pretty little cherublike girl, one of my scholars, -and sundry views from nature, taken in the Vale of Morton and on -the surrounding moors. She was first transfixed with surprise, -and then electrified with delight. -"Had I done these pictures? Did I know French and German? What -a love what a miracle I was I drew better than her master in -the first school in S. Would I sketch a portrait of her, to show -to papa?" -"With pleasure," I replied and I felt a thrill of artistdelight -at the idea of copying from so perfect and radiant a model. She -had then on a darkblue silk dress her arms and her neck were -bare her only ornament was her chestnut tresses, which waved over -her shoulders with all the wild grace of natural curls. I took a -sheet of fine cardboard, and drew a careful outline. I promised -myself the pleasure of colouring it and, as it was getting late -then, I told her she must come and sit another day. -She made such a report of me to her father, that Mr. Oliver -himself accompanied her next evening a tall, massivefeatured, -middleaged, and greyheaded man, at whose side his lovely daughter -looked like a bright flower near a hoary turret. He appeared -a taciturn, and perhaps a proud personage but he was very kind -to me. The sketch of Rosamond's portrait pleased him highly he -said I must make a finished picture of it. He insisted, too, on -my coming the next day to spend the evening at Vale Hall. -I went. I found it a large, handsome residence, showing abundant -evidences of wealth in the proprietor. Rosamond was full of glee -and pleasure all the time I stayed. Her father was affable and -when he entered into conversation with me after tea, he expressed -in strong terms his approbation of what I had done in Morton school, -and said he only feared, from what he saw and heard, I was too good -for the place, and would soon quit it for one more suitable. -"Indeed," cried Rosamond, "she is clever enough to be a governess -in a high family, papa." -I thought I would far rather be where I am than in any high family -in the land. Mr. Oliver spoke of Mr. Rivers of the Rivers family -with great respect. He said it was a very old name in that -neighbourhood that the ancestors of the house were wealthy that -all Morton had once belonged to them that even now he considered -the representative of that house might, if he liked, make an alliance -with the best. He accounted it a pity that so fine and talented a -young man should have formed the design of going out as a missionary -it was quite throwing a valuable life away. It appeared, then, -that her father would throw no obstacle in the way of Rosamond's -union with St. John. Mr. Oliver evidently regarded the young -clergyman's good birth, old name, and sacred profession as sufficient -compensation for the want of fortune. -It was the th of November, and a holiday. My little servant, -after helping me to clean my house, was gone, well satisfied with -the fee of a penny for her aid. All about me was spotless and -bright scoured floor, polished grate, and wellrubbed chairs. -I had also made myself neat, and had now the afternoon before me -to spend as I would. -The translation of a few pages of German occupied an hour then I -got my palette and pencils, and fell to the more soothing, because -easier occupation, of completing Rosamond Oliver's miniature. The -head was finished already there was but the background to tint -and the drapery to shade off a touch of carmine, too, to add to -the ripe lips a soft curl here and there to the tresses a -deeper tinge to the shadow of the lash under the azured eyelid. I -was absorbed in the execution of these nice details, when, after -one rapid tap, my door unclosed, admitting St. John Rivers. -"I am come to see how you are spending your holiday," he said. "Not, -I hope, in thought? No, that is well while you draw you will -not feel lonely. You see, I mistrust you still, though you have -borne up wonderfully so far. I have brought you a book for evening -solace," and he laid on the table a new publication a poem one -of those genuine productions so often vouchsafed to the fortunate -public of those days the golden age of modern literature. Alas -the readers of our era are less favoured. But courage I will -not pause either to accuse or repine. I know poetry is not dead, -nor genius lost nor has Mammon gained power over either, to bind -or slay they will both assert their existence, their presence, -their liberty and strength again one day. Powerful angels, safe -in heaven they smile when sordid souls triumph, and feeble ones -weep over their destruction. Poetry destroyed? Genius banished? -No Mediocrity, no do not let envy prompt you to the thought. -No they not only live, but reign and redeem and without their -divine influence spread everywhere, you would be in hell the -hell of your own meanness. -While I was eagerly glancing at the bright pages of "Marmion" for -"Marmion" it was, St. John stooped to examine my drawing. His -tall figure sprang erect again with a start he said nothing. I -looked up at him he shunned my eye. I knew his thoughts well, -and could read his heart plainly at the moment I felt calmer and -cooler than he I had then temporarily the advantage of him, and -I conceived an inclination to do him some good, if I could. -"With all his firmness and selfcontrol," thought I, "he tasks -himself too far locks every feeling and pang within expresses, -confesses, imparts nothing. I am sure it would benefit him to talk -a little about this sweet Rosamond, whom he thinks he ought not to -marry I will make him talk." -I said first, "Take a chair, Mr. Rivers." But he answered, as -he always did, that he could not stay. "Very well," I responded, -mentally, "stand if you like but you shall not go just yet, I am -determined solitude is at least as bad for you as it is for me. -I'll try if I cannot discover the secret spring of your confidence, -and find an aperture in that marble breast through which I can shed -one drop of the balm of sympathy." -"Is this portrait like?" I asked bluntly. -"Like Like whom? I did not observe it closely." -"You did, Mr. Rivers." -He almost started at my sudden and strange abruptness he looked -at me astonished. "Oh, that is nothing yet," I muttered within. -"I don't mean to be baffled by a little stiffness on your part -I'm prepared to go to considerable lengths." I continued, "You -observed it closely and distinctly but I have no objection to your -looking at it again," and I rose and placed it in his hand. -"A wellexecuted picture," he said "very soft, clear colouring -very graceful and correct drawing." -"Yes, yes I know all that. But what of the resemblance? Who is -it like?" -Mastering some hesitation, he answered, "Miss Oliver, I presume." -"Of course. And now, sir, to reward you for the accurate guess, I -will promise to paint you a careful and faithful duplicate of this -very picture, provided you admit that the gift would be acceptable -to you. I don't wish to throw away my time and trouble on an -offering you would deem worthless." -He continued to gaze at the picture the longer he looked, the -firmer he held it, the more he seemed to covet it. "It is like" -he murmured "the eye is well managed the colour, light, expression, -are perfect. It smiles" -"Would it comfort, or would it wound you to have a similar painting? -Tell me that. When you are at Madagascar, or at the Cape, or -in India, would it be a consolation to have that memento in your -possession? or would the sight of it bring recollections calculated -to enervate and distress?" -He now furtively raised his eyes he glanced at me, irresolute, -disturbed he again surveyed the picture. -"That I should like to have it is certain whether it would be -judicious or wise is another question." -Since I had ascertained that Rosamond really preferred him, and that -her father was not likely to oppose the match, I less exalted -in my views than St. John had been strongly disposed in my -own heart to advocate their union. It seemed to me that, should -he become the possessor of Mr. Oliver's large fortune, he might -do as much good with it as if he went and laid his genius out to -wither, and his strength to waste, under a tropical sun. With -this persuasion I now answered -"As far as I can see, it would be wiser and more judicious if you -were to take to yourself the original at once." -By this time he had sat down he had laid the picture on the table -before him, and with his brow supported on both hands, hung fondly -over it. I discerned he was now neither angry nor shocked at my -audacity. I saw even that to be thus frankly addressed on a subject -he had deemed unapproachable to hear it thus freely handled -was beginning to be felt by him as a new pleasure an unhopedfor -relief. Reserved people often really need the frank discussion -of their sentiments and griefs more than the expansive. The -sternestseeming stoic is human after all and to "burst" with -boldness and goodwill into "the silent sea" of their souls is -often to confer on them the first of obligations. -"She likes you, I am sure," said I, as I stood behind his chair, -"and her father respects you. Moreover, she is a sweet girl -rather thoughtless but you would have sufficient thought for both -yourself and her. You ought to marry her." -"DOES she like me?" he asked. -"Certainly better than she likes any one else. She talks of you -continually there is no subject she enjoys so much or touches -upon so often." -"It is very pleasant to hear this," he said "very go on for -another quarter of an hour." And he actually took out his watch -and laid it upon the table to measure the time. -"But where is the use of going on," I asked, "when you are probably -preparing some iron blow of contradiction, or forging a fresh chain -to fetter your heart?" -"Don't imagine such hard things. Fancy me yielding and melting, -as I am doing human love rising like a freshly opened fountain -in my mind and overflowing with sweet inundation all the field I -have so carefully and with such labour prepared so assiduously -sown with the seeds of good intentions, of selfdenying plans. And -now it is deluged with a nectarous flood the young germs swamped -delicious poison cankering them now I see myself stretched on -an ottoman in the drawingroom at Vale Hall at my bride Rosamond -Oliver's feet she is talking to me with her sweet voice gazing -down on me with those eyes your skilful hand has copied so well -smiling at me with these coral lips. She is mine I am hers -this present life and passing world suffice to me. Hush say -nothing my heart is full of delight my senses are entranced -let the time I marked pass in peace." -I humoured him the watch ticked on he breathed fast and low I -stood silent. Amidst this hush the quartet sped he replaced the -watch, laid the picture down, rose, and stood on the hearth. -"Now," said he, "that little space was given to delirium and delusion. -I rested my temples on the breast of temptation, and put my neck -voluntarily under her yoke of flowers. I tasted her cup. The -pillow was burning there is an asp in the garland the wine has -a bitter taste her promises are hollow her offers false I -see and know all this." -I gazed at him in wonder. -"It is strange," pursued he, "that while I love Rosamond Oliver so -wildly with all the intensity, indeed, of a first passion, the -object of which is exquisitely beautiful, graceful, fascinating -I experience at the same time a calm, unwarped consciousness that -she would not make me a good wife that she is not the partner suited -to me that I should discover this within a year after marriage -and that to twelve months' rapture would succeed a lifetime of -regret. This I know." -"Strange indeed" I could not help ejaculating. -"While something in me," he went on, "is acutely sensible to her -charms, something else is as deeply impressed with her defects they -are such that she could sympathise in nothing I aspired to co -operate in nothing I undertook. Rosamond a sufferer, a labourer, -a female apostle? Rosamond a missionary's wife? No" -"But you need not be a missionary. You might relinquish that -scheme." -"Relinquish What my vocation? My great work? My foundation -laid on earth for a mansion in heaven? My hopes of being numbered -in the band who have merged all ambitions in the glorious one of -bettering their race of carrying knowledge into the realms of -ignorance of substituting peace for war freedom for bondage -religion for superstition the hope of heaven for the fear of -hell? Must I relinquish that? It is dearer than the blood in my -veins. It is what I have to look forward to, and to live for." -After a considerable pause, I said "And Miss Oliver? Are her -disappointment and sorrow of no interest to you?" -"Miss Oliver is ever surrounded by suitors and flatterers in less -than a month, my image will be effaced from her heart. She will -forget me and will marry, probably, some one who will make her -far happier than I should do." -"You speak coolly enough but you suffer in the conflict. You are -wasting away." -"No. If I get a little thin, it is with anxiety about my prospects, -yet unsettled my departure, continually procrastinated. Only -this morning, I received intelligence that the successor, whose -arrival I have been so long expecting, cannot be ready to replace -me for three months to come yet and perhaps the three months may -extend to six." -"You tremble and become flushed whenever Miss Oliver enters the -schoolroom." -Again the surprised expression crossed his face. He had not imagined -that a woman would dare to speak so to a man. For me, I felt at -home in this sort of discourse. I could never rest in communication -with strong, discreet, and refined minds, whether male or female, -till I had passed the outworks of conventional reserve, and crossed -the threshold of confidence, and won a place by their heart's very -hearthstone. -"You are original," said he, "and not timid. There is something -brave in your spirit, as well as penetrating in your eye but allow -me to assure you that you partially misinterpret my emotions. You -think them more profound and potent than they are. You give me a -larger allowance of sympathy than I have a just claim to. When I -colour, and when I shade before Miss Oliver, I do not pity myself. -I scorn the weakness. I know it is ignoble a mere fever of the -flesh not, I declare, the convulsion of the soul. THAT is just -as fixed as a rock, firm set in the depths of a restless sea. Know -me to be what I am a cold hard man." -I smiled incredulously. -"You have taken my confidence by storm," he continued, "and now -it is much at your service. I am simply, in my original state -stripped of that bloodbleached robe with which Christianity covers -human deformity a cold, hard, ambitious man. Natural affection -only, of all the sentiments, has permanent power over me. Reason, -and not feeling, is my guide my ambition is unlimited my desire -to rise higher, to do more than others, insatiable. I honour -endurance, perseverance, industry, talent because these are the -means by which men achieve great ends and mount to lofty eminence. -I watch your career with interest, because I consider you a specimen -of a diligent, orderly, energetic woman not because I deeply -compassionate what you have gone through, or what you still suffer." -"You would describe yourself as a mere pagan philosopher," I said. -"No. There is this difference between me and deistic philosophers -I believe and I believe the Gospel. You missed your epithet. I -am not a pagan, but a Christian philosopher a follower of the -sect of Jesus. As His disciple I adopt His pure, His merciful, -His benignant doctrines. I advocate them I am sworn to spread -them. Won in youth to religion, she has cultivated my original -qualities thus From the minute germ, natural affection, she has -developed the overshadowing tree, philanthropy. From the wild -stringy root of human uprightness, she has reared a due sense of -the Divine justice. Of the ambition to win power and renown for -my wretched self, she has formed the ambition to spread my Master's -kingdom to achieve victories for the standard of the cross. So -much has religion done for me turning the original materials to -the best account pruning and training nature. But she could not -eradicate nature nor will it be eradicated 'till this mortal -shall put on immortality.'" -Having said this, he took his hat, which lay on the table beside -my palette. Once more he looked at the portrait. -"She IS lovely," he murmured. "She is well named the Rose of the -World, indeed" -"And may I not paint one like it for you?" -"CUI BONO? No." -He drew over the picture the sheet of thin paper on which I was -accustomed to rest my hand in painting, to prevent the cardboard -from being sullied. What he suddenly saw on this blank paper, it -was impossible for me to tell but something had caught his eye. -He took it up with a snatch he looked at the edge then shot a -glance at me, inexpressibly peculiar, and quite incomprehensible -a glance that seemed to take and make note of every point in -my shape, face, and dress for it traversed all, quick, keen as -lightning. His lips parted, as if to speak but he checked the -coming sentence, whatever it was. -"What is the matter?" I asked. -"Nothing in the world," was the reply and, replacing the paper, -I saw him dexterously tear a narrow slip from the margin. It -disappeared in his glove and, with one hasty nod and "goodafternoon," -he vanished. -"Well" I exclaimed, using an expression of the district, "that -caps the globe, however" -I, in my turn, scrutinised the paper but saw nothing on it save a -few dingy stains of paint where I had tried the tint in my pencil. -I pondered the mystery a minute or two but finding it insolvable, -and being certain it could not be of much moment, I dismissed, and -soon forgot it. -CHAPTER XXXIII -When Mr. St. John went, it was beginning to snow the whirling -storm continued all night. The next day a keen wind brought fresh -and blinding falls by twilight the valley was drifted up and almost -impassable. I had closed my shutter, laid a mat to the door to -prevent the snow from blowing in under it, trimmed my fire, and -after sitting nearly an hour on the hearth listening to the muffled -fury of the tempest, I lit a candle, took down "Marmion," and beginning -"Day set on Norham's castled steep, -And Tweed's fair river broad and deep, -And Cheviot's mountains lone -The massive towers, the donjon keep, -The flanking walls that round them sweep, -In yellow lustre shone" -I soon forgot storm in music. -I heard a noise the wind, I thought, shook the door. No it was -St. John Rivers, who, lifting the latch, came in out of the frozen -hurricane the howling darkness and stood before me the -cloak that covered his tall figure all white as a glacier. I was -almost in consternation, so little had I expected any guest from -the blockedup vale that night. -"Any ill news?" I demanded. "Has anything happened?" -"No. How very easily alarmed you are" he answered, removing his -cloak and hanging it up against the door, towards which he again -coolly pushed the mat which his entrance had deranged. He stamped -the snow from his boots. -"I shall sully the purity of your floor," said he, "but you must -excuse me for once." Then he approached the fire. "I have had -hard work to get here, I assure you," he observed, as he warmed his -hands over the flame. "One drift took me up to the waist happily -the snow is quite soft yet." -"But why are you come?" I could not forbear saying. -"Rather an inhospitable question to put to a visitor but since -you ask it, I answer simply to have a little talk with you I got -tired of my mute books and empty rooms. Besides, since yesterday -I have experienced the excitement of a person to whom a tale has -been half told, and who is impatient to hear the sequel." -He sat down. I recalled his singular conduct of yesterday, and -really I began to fear his wits were touched. If he were insane, -however, his was a very cool and collected insanity I had never -seen that handsomefeatured face of his look more like chiselled -marble than it did just now, as he put aside his snowwet hair from -his forehead and let the firelight shine free on his pale brow and -cheek as pale, where it grieved me to discover the hollow trace of -care or sorrow now so plainly graved. I waited, expecting he would -say something I could at least comprehend but his hand was now at -his chin, his finger on his lip he was thinking. It struck me -that his hand looked wasted like his face. A perhaps uncalledfor -gush of pity came over my heart I was moved to say -"I wish Diana or Mary would come and live with you it is too bad -that you should be quite alone and you are recklessly rash about -your own health." -"Not at all," said he "I care for myself when necessary. I am -well now. What do you see amiss in me?" -This was said with a careless, abstracted indifference, which showed -that my solicitude was, at least in his opinion, wholly superfluous. -I was silenced. -He still slowly moved his finger over his upper lip, and still his -eye dwelt dreamily on the glowing grate thinking it urgent to say -something, I asked him presently if he felt any cold draught from -the door, which was behind him. -"No, no" he responded shortly and somewhat testily. -"Well," I reflected, "if you won't talk, you may be still I'll -let you alone now, and return to my book." -So I snuffed the candle and resumed the perusal of "Marmion." He -soon stirred my eye was instantly drawn to his movements he only -took out a morocco pocketbook, thence produced a letter, which he -read in silence, folded it, put it back, relapsed into meditation. -It was vain to try to read with such an inscrutable fixture before -me nor could I, in impatience, consent to be dumb he might rebuff -me if he liked, but talk I would. -"Have you heard from Diana and Mary lately?" -"Not since the letter I showed you a week ago." -"There has not been any change made about your own arrangements? -You will not be summoned to leave England sooner than you expected?" -"I fear not, indeed such chance is too good to befall me." Baffled -so far, I changed my ground. I bethought myself to talk about the -school and my scholars. -"Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the school -this morning, and I shall have four new girls next week from the -Foundry Close they would have come today but for the snow." -"Indeed" -"Mr. Oliver pays for two." -"Does he?" -"He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas." -"I know." -"Was it your suggestion?" -"No." -"Whose, then?" -"His daughter's, I think." -"It is like her she is so goodnatured." -"Yes." -Again came the blank of a pause the clock struck eight strokes. -It aroused him he uncrossed his legs, sat erect, turned to me. -"Leave your book a moment, and come a little nearer the fire," he -said. -Wondering, and of my wonder finding no end, I complied. -"Halfanhour ago," he pursued, "I spoke of my impatience to hear -the sequel of a tale on reflection, I find the matter will be -better managed by my assuming the narrator's part, and converting -you into a listener. Before commencing, it is but fair to warn -you that the story will sound somewhat hackneyed in your ears but -stale details often regain a degree of freshness when they pass -through new lips. For the rest, whether trite or novel, it is -short. -"Twenty years ago, a poor curate never mind his name at this -moment fell in love with a rich man's daughter she fell in love -with him, and married him, against the advice of all her friends, -who consequently disowned her immediately after the wedding. Before -two years passed, the rash pair were both dead, and laid quietly -side by side under one slab. I have seen their grave it formed -part of the pavement of a huge churchyard surrounding the grim, -sootblack old cathedral of an overgrown manufacturing town in -shire. They left a daughter, which, at its very birth, Charity -received in her lap cold as that of the snowdrift I almost stuck -fast in tonight. Charity carried the friendless thing to the house -of its rich maternal relations it was reared by an auntinlaw, -called I come to names now Mrs. Reed of Gateshead. You start -did you hear a noise? I daresay it is only a rat scrambling along -the rafters of the adjoining schoolroom it was a barn before -I had it repaired and altered, and barns are generally haunted by -rats. To proceed. Mrs. Reed kept the orphan ten years whether -it was happy or not with her, I cannot say, never having been told -but at the end of that time she transferred it to a place you know -being no other than Lowood School, where you so long resided -yourself. It seems her career there was very honourable from a -pupil, she became a teacher, like yourself really it strikes me -there are parallel points in her history and yours she left it -to be a governess there, again, your fates were analogous she -undertook the education of the ward of a certain Mr. Rochester." -"Mr. Rivers" I interrupted. -"I can guess your feelings," he said, "but restrain them for a while -I have nearly finished hear me to the end. Of Mr. Rochester's -character I know nothing, but the one fact that he professed to -offer honourable marriage to this young girl, and that at the very -altar she discovered he had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. -What his subsequent conduct and proposals were is a matter of pure -conjecture but when an event transpired which rendered inquiry -after the governess necessary, it was discovered she was gone no -one could tell when, where, or how. She had left Thornfield Hall -in the night every research after her course had been vain the -country had been scoured far and wide no vestige of information -could be gathered respecting her. Yet that she should be found is -become a matter of serious urgency advertisements have been put -in all the papers I myself have received a letter from one Mr. -Briggs, a solicitor, communicating the details I have just imparted. -Is it not an odd tale?" -"Just tell me this," said I, "and since you know so much, you -surely can tell it me what of Mr. Rochester? How and where is -he? What is he doing? Is he well?" -"I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester the letter never -mentions him but to narrate the fraudulent and illegal attempt I -have adverted to. You should rather ask the name of the governess -the nature of the event which requires her appearance." -"Did no one go to Thornfield Hall, then? Did no one see Mr. -Rochester?" -"I suppose not." -"But they wrote to him?" -"Of course." -"And what did he say? Who has his letters?" -"Mr. Briggs intimates that the answer to his application was not -from Mr. Rochester, but from a lady it is signed 'Alice Fairfax.'" -I felt cold and dismayed my worst fears then were probably true -he had in all probability left England and rushed in reckless -desperation to some former haunt on the Continent. And what opiate -for his severe sufferings what object for his strong passions -had he sought there? I dared not answer the question. Oh, my -poor master once almost my husband whom I had often called -"my dear Edward" -"He must have been a bad man," observed Mr. Rivers. -"You don't know him don't pronounce an opinion upon him," I -said, with warmth. -"Very well," he answered quietly "and indeed my head is otherwise -occupied than with him I have my tale to finish. Since you won't -ask the governess's name, I must tell it of my own accord. Stay -I have it here it is always more satisfactory to see important -points written down, fairly committed to black and white." -And the pocketbook was again deliberately produced, opened, sought -through from one of its compartments was extracted a shabby slip -of paper, hastily torn off I recognised in its texture and its -stains of ultramarine, and lake, and vermillion, the ravished margin -of the portraitcover. He got up, held it close to my eyes and -I read, traced in Indian ink, in my own handwriting, the words -"JANE EYRE" the work doubtless of some moment of abstraction. -"Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre" he said, "the advertisements -demanded a Jane Eyre I knew a Jane Elliott. I confess I had my -suspicions, but it was only yesterday afternoon they were at once -resolved into certainty. You own the name and renounce the alias?" -"Yes yes but where is Mr. Briggs? He perhaps knows more of -Mr. Rochester than you do." -"Briggs is in London. I should doubt his knowing anything at all -about Mr. Rochester it is not in Mr. Rochester he is interested. -Meantime, you forget essential points in pursuing trifles you do -not inquire why Mr. Briggs sought after you what he wanted with -you." -"Well, what did he want?" -"Merely to tell you that your uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead -that he has left you all his property, and that you are now rich -merely that nothing more." -"I rich?" -"Yes, you, rich quite an heiress." -Silence succeeded. -"You must prove your identity of course," resumed St. John presently -"a step which will offer no difficulties you can then enter on -immediate possession. Your fortune is vested in the English funds -Briggs has the will and the necessary documents." -Here was a new card turned up It is a fine thing, reader, to be -lifted in a moment from indigence to wealth a very fine thing -but not a matter one can comprehend, or consequently enjoy, all at -once. And then there are other chances in life far more thrilling -and rapturegiving THIS is solid, an affair of the actual world, -nothing ideal about it all its associations are solid and sober, -and its manifestations are the same. One does not jump, and spring, -and shout hurrah at hearing one has got a fortune one begins -to consider responsibilities, and to ponder business on a base -of steady satisfaction rise certain grave cares, and we contain -ourselves, and brood over our bliss with a solemn brow. -Besides, the words Legacy, Bequest, go side by side with the words, -Death, Funeral. My uncle I had heard was dead my only relative -ever since being made aware of his existence, I had cherished the -hope of one day seeing him now, I never should. And then this -money came only to me not to me and a rejoicing family, but to -my isolated self. It was a grand boon doubtless and independence -would be glorious yes, I felt that that thought swelled my -heart. -"You unbend your forehead at last," said Mr. Rivers. "I thought -Medusa had looked at you, and that you were turning to stone. -Perhaps now you will ask how much you are worth?" -"How much am I worth?" -"Oh, a trifle Nothing of course to speak of twenty thousand -pounds, I think they say but what is that?" -"Twenty thousand pounds?" -Here was a new stunner I had been calculating on four or five -thousand. This news actually took my breath for a moment Mr. -St. John, whom I had never heard laugh before, laughed now. -"Well," said he, "if you had committed a murder, and I had told -you your crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more aghast." -"It is a large sum don't you think there is a mistake?" -"No mistake at all." -"Perhaps you have read the figures wrong it may be two thousand" -"It is written in letters, not figures, twenty thousand." -I again felt rather like an individual of but average gastronomical -powers sitting down to feast alone at a table spread with provisions -for a hundred. Mr. Rivers rose now and put his cloak on. -"If it were not such a very wild night," he said, "I would send -Hannah down to keep you company you look too desperately miserable -to be left alone. But Hannah, poor woman could not stride the -drifts so well as I her legs are not quite so long so I must -e'en leave you to your sorrows. Goodnight." -He was lifting the latch a sudden thought occurred to me. "Stop -one minute" I cried. -"Well?" -"It puzzles me to know why Mr. Briggs wrote to you about me or how -he knew you, or could fancy that you, living in such an outoftheway -place, had the power to aid in my discovery." -"Oh I am a clergyman," he said "and the clergy are often appealed -to about odd matters." Again the latch rattled. -"No that does not satisfy me" I exclaimed and indeed there -was something in the hasty and unexplanatory reply which, instead -of allaying, piqued my curiosity more than ever. -"It is a very strange piece of business," I added "I must know -more about it." -"Another time." -"No tonight tonight" and as he turned from the door, I -placed myself between it and him. He looked rather embarrassed. -"You certainly shall not go till you have told me all," I said. -"I would rather not just now." -"You shall you must" -"I would rather Diana or Mary informed you." -Of course these objections wrought my eagerness to a climax -gratified it must be, and that without delay and I told him so. -"But I apprised you that I was a hard man," said he, "difficult to -persuade." -"And I am a hard woman, impossible to put off." -"And then," he pursued, "I am cold no fervour infects me." -"Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice. The blaze there has -thawed all the snow from your cloak by the same token, it has -streamed on to my floor, and made it like a trampled street. As -you hope ever to be forgiven, Mr. Rivers, the high crime and -misdemeanour of spoiling a sanded kitchen, tell me what I wish to -know." -"Well, then," he said, "I yield if not to your earnestness, to your -perseverance as stone is worn by continual dropping. Besides, -you must know some day, as well now as later. Your name is Jane -Eyre?" -"Of course that was all settled before." -"You are not, perhaps, aware that I am your namesake? that I -was christened St. John Eyre Rivers?" -"No, indeed I remember now seeing the letter E. comprised in your -initials written in books you have at different times lent me but -I never asked for what name it stood. But what then? Surely " -I stopped I could not trust myself to entertain, much less to -express, the thought that rushed upon me that embodied itself, -that, in a second, stood out a strong, solid probability. -Circumstances knit themselves, fitted themselves, shot into order -the chain that had been lying hitherto a formless lump of links -was drawn out straight, every ring was perfect, the connection -complete. I knew, by instinct, how the matter stood, before St. -John had said another word but I cannot expect the reader to have -the same intuitive perception, so I must repeat his explanation. -"My mother's name was Eyre she had two brothers one a clergyman, -who married Miss Jane Reed, of Gateshead the other, John Eyre, Esq., -merchant, late of Funchal, Madeira. Mr. Briggs, being Mr. Eyre's -solicitor, wrote to us last August to inform us of our uncle's -death, and to say that he had left his property to his brother the -clergyman's orphan daughter, overlooking us, in consequence of a -quarrel, never forgiven, between him and my father. He wrote again -a few weeks since, to intimate that the heiress was lost, and asking -if we knew anything of her. A name casually written on a slip of -paper has enabled me to find her out. You know the rest." Again -he was going, but I set my back against the door. -"Do let me speak," I said "let me have one moment to draw breath -and reflect." I paused he stood before me, hat in hand, -looking composed enough. I resumed -"Your mother was my father's sister?" -"Yes." -"My aunt, consequently?" -He bowed. -"My uncle John was your uncle John? You, Diana, and Mary are his -sister's children, as I am his brother's child?" -"Undeniably." -"You three, then, are my cousins half our blood on each side flows -from the same source?" -"We are cousins yes." -I surveyed him. It seemed I had found a brother one I could be -proud of, one I could love and two sisters, whose qualities -were such, that, when I knew them but as mere strangers, they had -inspired me with genuine affection and admiration. The two girls, -on whom, kneeling down on the wet ground, and looking through the -low, latticed window of Moor House kitchen, I had gazed with so -bitter a mixture of interest and despair, were my near kinswomen -and the young and stately gentleman who had found me almost dying -at his threshold was my blood relation. Glorious discovery to a -lonely wretch This was wealth indeed wealth to the heart -a mine of pure, genial affections. This was a blessing, bright, -vivid, and exhilarating not like the ponderous gift of gold -rich and welcome enough in its way, but sobering from its weight. -I now clapped my hands in sudden joy my pulse bounded, my veins -thrilled. -"Oh, I am glad I am glad" I exclaimed. -St. John smiled. "Did I not say you neglected essential points -to pursue trifles?" he asked. "You were serious when I told you -you had got a fortune and now, for a matter of no moment, you are -excited." -"What can you mean? It may be of no moment to you you have -sisters and don't care for a cousin but I had nobody and now -three relations, or two, if you don't choose to be counted, -are born into my world fullgrown. I say again, I am glad" -I walked fast through the room I stopped, half suffocated with -the thoughts that rose faster than I could receive, comprehend, -settle them thoughts of what might, could, would, and should be, -and that ere long. I looked at the blank wall it seemed a sky -thick with ascending stars, every one lit me to a purpose or -delight. Those who had saved my life, whom, till this hour, I had -loved barrenly, I could now benefit. They were under a yoke, -I could free them they were scattered, I could reunite them -the independence, the affluence which was mine, might be theirs too. -Were we not four? Twenty thousand pounds shared equally would be -five thousand each, justice enough and to spare justice would -be done, mutual happiness secured. Now the wealth did not weigh -on me now it was not a mere bequest of coin, it was a legacy -of life, hope, enjoyment. -How I looked while these ideas were taking my spirit by storm, -I cannot tell but I perceived soon that Mr. Rivers had placed a -chair behind me, and was gently attempting to make me sit down on -it. He also advised me to be composed I scorned the insinuation -of helplessness and distraction, shook off his hand, and began to -walk about again. -"Write to Diana and Mary tomorrow," I said, "and tell them to come -home directly. Diana said they would both consider themselves rich -with a thousand pounds, so with five thousand they will do very -well." -"Tell me where I can get you a glass of water," said St. John "you -must really make an effort to tranquillise your feelings." -"Nonsense and what sort of an effect will the bequest have on you? -Will it keep you in England, induce you to marry Miss Oliver, and -settle down like an ordinary mortal?" -"You wander your head becomes confused. I have been too abrupt -in communicating the news it has excited you beyond your strength." -"Mr. Rivers you quite put me out of patience I am rational enough -it is you who misunderstand, or rather who affect to misunderstand." -"Perhaps, if you explained yourself a little more fully, I should -comprehend better." -"Explain What is there to explain? You cannot fail to see that -twenty thousand pounds, the sum in question, divided equally between -the nephew and three nieces of our uncle, will give five thousand -to each? What I want is, that you should write to your sisters -and tell them of the fortune that has accrued to them." -"To you, you mean." -"I have intimated my view of the case I am incapable of taking any -other. I am not brutally selfish, blindly unjust, or fiendishly -ungrateful. Besides, I am resolved I will have a home and -connections. I like Moor House, and I will live at Moor House -I like Diana and Mary, and I will attach myself for life to Diana -and Mary. It would please and benefit me to have five thousand -pounds it would torment and oppress me to have twenty thousand -which, moreover, could never be mine in justice, though it might -in law. I abandon to you, then, what is absolutely superfluous to -me. Let there be no opposition, and no discussion about it let -us agree amongst each other, and decide the point at once." -"This is acting on first impulses you must take days to consider -such a matter, ere your word can be regarded as valid." -"Oh if all you doubt is my sincerity, I am easy you see the -justice of the case?" -"I DO see a certain justice but it is contrary to all custom. -Besides, the entire fortune is your right my uncle gained it by -his own efforts he was free to leave it to whom he would he left -it to you. After all, justice permits you to keep it you may, -with a clear conscience, consider it absolutely your own." -"With me," said I, "it is fully as much a matter of feeling as -of conscience I must indulge my feelings I so seldom have had -an opportunity of doing so. Were you to argue, object, and annoy -me for a year, I could not forego the delicious pleasure of which -I have caught a glimpse that of repaying, in part, a mighty -obligation, and winning to myself lifelong friends." -"You think so now," rejoined St. John, "because you do not know -what it is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy wealth you -cannot form a notion of the importance twenty thousand pounds would -give you of the place it would enable you to take in society -of the prospects it would open to you you cannot " -"And you," I interrupted, "cannot at all imagine the craving I have -for fraternal and sisterly love. I never had a home, I never had -brothers or sisters I must and will have them now you are not -reluctant to admit me and own me, are you?" -"Jane, I will be your brother my sisters will be your sisters -without stipulating for this sacrifice of your just rights." -"Brother? Yes at the distance of a thousand leagues Sisters? -Yes slaving amongst strangers I, wealthy gorged with gold I -never earned and do not merit You, penniless Famous equality -and fraternisation Close union Intimate attachment" -"But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic happiness -may be realised otherwise than by the means you contemplate you -may marry." -"Nonsense, again Marry I don't want to marry, and never shall -marry." -"That is saying too much such hazardous affirmations are a proof -of the excitement under which you labour." -"It is not saying too much I know what I feel, and how averse -are my inclinations to the bare thought of marriage. No one would -take me for love and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere -money speculation. And I do not want a stranger unsympathising, -alien, different from me I want my kindred those with whom I -have full fellowfeeling. Say again you will be my brother when -you uttered the words I was satisfied, happy repeat them, if you -can, repeat them sincerely." -"I think I can. I know I have always loved my own sisters and -I know on what my affection for them is grounded, respect for -their worth and admiration of their talents. You too have principle -and mind your tastes and habits resemble Diana's and Mary's your -presence is always agreeable to me in your conversation I have -already for some time found a salutary solace. I feel I can easily -and naturally make room in my heart for you, as my third and youngest -sister." -"Thank you that contents me for tonight. Now you had better -go for if you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by -some mistrustful scruple." -"And the school, Miss Eyre? It must now be shut up, I suppose?" -"No. I will retain my post of mistress till you get a substitute." -He smiled approbation we shook hands, and he took leave. -I need not narrate in detail the further struggles I had, and -arguments I used, to get matters regarding the legacy settled as -I wished. My task was a very hard one but, as I was absolutely -resolved as my cousins saw at length that my mind was really -and immutably fixed on making a just division of the property as -they must in their own hearts have felt the equity of the intention -and must, besides, have been innately conscious that in my place -they would have done precisely what I wished to do they yielded -at length so far as to consent to put the affair to arbitration. The -judges chosen were Mr. Oliver and an able lawyer both coincided -in my opinion I carried my point. The instruments of transfer -were drawn out St. John, Diana, Mary, and I, each became possessed -of a competency. -CHAPTER XXXIV -It was near Christmas by the time all was settled the season of -general holiday approached. I now closed Morton school, taking care -that the parting should not be barren on my side. Good fortune -opens the hand as well as the heart wonderfully and to give -somewhat when we have largely received, is but to afford a vent -to the unusual ebullition of the sensations. I had long felt with -pleasure that many of my rustic scholars liked me, and when we -parted, that consciousness was confirmed they manifested their -affection plainly and strongly. Deep was my gratification to find -I had really a place in their unsophisticated hearts I promised -them that never a week should pass in future that I did not visit -them, and give them an hour's teaching in their school. -Mr. Rivers came up as, having seen the classes, now numbering sixty -girls, file out before me, and locked the door, I stood with the -key in my hand, exchanging a few words of special farewell with some -halfdozen of my best scholars as decent, respectable, modest, -and wellinformed young women as could be found in the ranks of -the British peasantry. And that is saying a great deal for after -all, the British peasantry are the best taught, best mannered, most -selfrespecting of any in Europe since those days I have seen -paysannes and Bauerinnen and the best of them seemed to me ignorant, -coarse, and besotted, compared with my Morton girls. -"Do you consider you have got your reward for a season of -exertion?" asked Mr. Rivers, when they were gone. "Does not the -consciousness of having done some real good in your day and generation -give pleasure?" -"Doubtless." -"And you have only toiled a few months Would not a life devoted -to the task of regenerating your race be well spent?" -"Yes," I said "but I could not go on for ever so I want to enjoy -my own faculties as well as to cultivate those of other people. -I must enjoy them now don't recall either my mind or body to the -school I am out of it and disposed for full holiday." -He looked grave. "What now? What sudden eagerness is this you -evince? What are you going to do?" -"To be active as active as I can. And first I must beg you to -set Hannah at liberty, and get somebody else to wait on you." -"Do you want her?" -"Yes, to go with me to Moor House. Diana and Mary will be at home -in a week, and I want to have everything in order against their -arrival." -"I understand. I thought you were for flying off on some excursion. -It is better so Hannah shall go with you." -"Tell her to be ready by tomorrow then and here is the schoolroom -key I will give you the key of my cottage in the morning." -He took it. "You give it up very gleefully," said he "I don't -quite understand your lightheartedness, because I cannot tell what -employment you propose to yourself as a substitute for the one you -are relinquishing. What aim, what purpose, what ambition in life -have you now?" -"My first aim will be to CLEAN DOWN do you comprehend the full -force of the expression? to CLEAN DOWN Moor House from chamber to -cellar my next to rub it up with beeswax, oil, and an indefinite -number of cloths, till it glitters again my third, to arrange every -chair, table, bed, carpet, with mathematical precision afterwards -I shall go near to ruin you in coals and peat to keep up good fires -in every room and lastly, the two days preceding that on which your -sisters are expected will be devoted by Hannah and me to such a -beating of eggs, sorting of currants, grating of spices, compounding -of Christmas cakes, chopping up of materials for mincepies, -and solemnising of other culinary rites, as words can convey but -an inadequate notion of to the uninitiated like you. My purpose, -in short, is to have all things in an absolutely perfect state of -readiness for Diana and Mary before next Thursday and my ambition -is to give them a beauideal of a welcome when they come." -St. John smiled slightly still he was dissatisfied. -"It is all very well for the present," said he "but seriously, I -trust that when the first flush of vivacity is over, you will look -a little higher than domestic endearments and household joys." -"The best things the world has" I interrupted. -"No, Jane, no this world is not the scene of fruition do not -attempt to make it so nor of rest do not turn slothful." -"I mean, on the contrary, to be busy." -"Jane, I excuse you for the present two months' grace I allow -you for the full enjoyment of your new position, and for pleasing -yourself with this latefound charm of relationship but THEN, I hope -you will begin to look beyond Moor House and Morton, and sisterly -society, and the selfish calm and sensual comfort of civilised -affluence. I hope your energies will then once more trouble you -with their strength." -I looked at him with surprise. "St. John," I said, "I think you -are almost wicked to talk so. I am disposed to be as content as -a queen, and you try to stir me up to restlessness To what end?" -"To the end of turning to profit the talents which God has committed -to your keeping and of which He will surely one day demand a strict -account. Jane, I shall watch you closely and anxiously I warn -you of that. And try to restrain the disproportionate fervour with -which you throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures. Don't -cling so tenaciously to ties of the flesh save your constancy -and ardour for an adequate cause forbear to waste them on trite -transient objects. Do you hear, Jane?" -"Yes just as if you were speaking Greek. I feel I have adequate -cause to be happy, and I WILL be happy. Goodbye" -Happy at Moor House I was, and hard I worked and so did Hannah -she was charmed to see how jovial I could be amidst the bustle -of a house turned topsyturvy how I could brush, and dust, and -clean, and cook. And really, after a day or two of confusion worse -confounded, it was delightful by degrees to invoke order from the -chaos ourselves had made. I had previously taken a journey to S -to purchase some new furniture my cousins having given me CARTE -BLANCHE to effect what alterations I pleased, and a sum having been -set aside for that purpose. The ordinary sittingroom and bedrooms -I left much as they were for I knew Diana and Mary would derive -more pleasure from seeing again the old homely tables, and chairs, -and beds, than from the spectacle of the smartest innovations. Still -some novelty was necessary, to give to their return the piquancy -with which I wished it to be invested. Dark handsome new carpets -and curtains, an arrangement of some carefully selected antique -ornaments in porcelain and bronze, new coverings, and mirrors, -and dressingcases, for the toilet tables, answered the end they -looked fresh without being glaring. A spare parlour and bedroom -I refurnished entirely, with old mahogany and crimson upholstery -I laid canvas on the passage, and carpets on the stairs. When all -was finished, I thought Moor House as complete a model of bright -modest snugness within, as it was, at this season, a specimen of -wintry waste and desert dreariness without. -The eventful Thursday at length came. They were expected about -dark, and ere dusk fires were lit upstairs and below the kitchen -was in perfect trim Hannah and I were dressed, and all was in -readiness. -St. John arrived first. I had entreated him to keep quite clear -of the house till everything was arranged and, indeed, the bare -idea of the commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on within -its walls sufficed to scare him to estrangement. He found me -in the kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes for tea, -then baking. Approaching the hearth, he asked, "If I was at last -satisfied with housemaid's work?" I answered by inviting him to -accompany me on a general inspection of the result of my labours. -With some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the house. -He just looked in at the doors I opened and when he had wandered -upstairs and downstairs, he said I must have gone through a great -deal of fatigue and trouble to have effected such considerable changes -in so short a time but not a syllable did he utter indicating -pleasure in the improved aspect of his abode. -This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations had -disturbed some old associations he valued. I inquired whether this -was the case no doubt in a somewhat crestfallen tone. -"Not at all he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had scrupulously -respected every association he feared, indeed, I must have bestowed -more thought on the matter than it was worth. How many minutes, -for instance, had I devoted to studying the arrangement of this -very room? Bythebye, could I tell him where such a book was?" -I showed him the volume on the shelf he took it down, and -withdrawing to his accustomed window recess, he began to read it. -Now, I did not like this, reader. St. John was a good man but I -began to feel he had spoken truth of himself when he said he was hard -and cold. The humanities and amenities of life had no attraction -for him its peaceful enjoyments no charm. Literally, he lived -only to aspire after what was good and great, certainly but -still he would never rest, nor approve of others resting round him. -As I looked at his lofty forehead, still and pale as a white stone -at his fine lineaments fixed in study I comprehended all at -once that he would hardly make a good husband that it would be -a trying thing to be his wife. I understood, as by inspiration, -the nature of his love for Miss Oliver I agreed with him that it -was but a love of the senses. I comprehended how he should despise -himself for the feverish influence it exercised over him how he -should wish to stifle and destroy it how he should mistrust its -ever conducting permanently to his happiness or hers. I saw he -was of the material from which nature hews her heroes Christian -and Pagan her lawgivers, her statesmen, her conquerors a -steadfast bulwark for great interests to rest upon but, at the -fireside, too often a cold cumbrous column, gloomy and out of place. -"This parlour is not his sphere," I reflected "the Himalayan -ridge or Caffre bush, even the plaguecursed Guinea Coast swamp -would suit him better. Well may he eschew the calm of domestic -life it is not his element there his faculties stagnate they -cannot develop or appear to advantage. It is in scenes of strife -and danger where courage is proved, and energy exercised, and -fortitude tasked that he will speak and move, the leader and -superior. A merry child would have the advantage of him on this -hearth. He is right to choose a missionary's career I see it -now." -"They are coming they are coming" cried Hannah, throwing open -the parlour door. At the same moment old Carlo barked joyfully. -Out I ran. It was now dark but a rumbling of wheels was audible. -Hannah soon had a lantern lit. The vehicle had stopped at the -wicket the driver opened the door first one wellknown form, -then another, stepped out. In a minute I had my face under their -bonnets, in contact first with Mary's soft cheek, then with Diana's -flowing curls. They laughed kissed me then Hannah patted -Carlo, who was half wild with delight asked eagerly if all was -well and being assured in the affirmative, hastened into the house. -They were stiff with their long and jolting drive from Whitcross, -and chilled with the frosty night air but their pleasant countenances -expanded to the cheerful firelight. While the driver and Hannah -brought in the boxes, they demanded St. John. At this moment he -advanced from the parlour. They both threw their arms round his -neck at once. He gave each one quiet kiss, said in a low tone -a few words of welcome, stood a while to be talked to, and then, -intimating that he supposed they would soon rejoin him in the -parlour, withdrew there as to a place of refuge. -I had lit their candles to go upstairs, but Diana had first to give -hospitable orders respecting the driver this done, both followed -me. They were delighted with the renovation and decorations -of their rooms with the new drapery, and fresh carpets, and rich -tinted china vases they expressed their gratification ungrudgingly. -I had the pleasure of feeling that my arrangements met their wishes -exactly, and that what I had done added a vivid charm to their -joyous return home. -Sweet was that evening. My cousins, full of exhilaration, were so -eloquent in narrative and comment, that their fluency covered St. -John's taciturnity he was sincerely glad to see his sisters but -in their glow of fervour and flow of joy he could not sympathise. -The event of the day that is, the return of Diana and Mary -pleased him but the accompaniments of that event, the glad tumult, -the garrulous glee of reception irked him I saw he wished the calmer -morrow was come. In the very meridian of the night's enjoyment, -about an hour after tea, a rap was heard at the door. Hannah entered -with the intimation that "a poor lad was come, at that unlikely -time, to fetch Mr. Rivers to see his mother, who was drawing away." -"Where does she live, Hannah?" -"Clear up at Whitcross Brow, almost four miles off, and moor and -moss all the way." -"Tell him I will go." -"I'm sure, sir, you had better not. It's the worst road to travel -after dark that can be there's no track at all over the bog. And -then it is such a bitter night the keenest wind you ever felt. -You had better send word, sir, that you will be there in the -morning." -But he was already in the passage, putting on his cloak and without -one objection, one murmur, he departed. It was then nine o'clock -he did not return till midnight. Starved and tired enough he was -but he looked happier than when he set out. He had performed -an act of duty made an exertion felt his own strength to do and -deny, and was on better terms with himself. -I am afraid the whole of the ensuing week tried his patience. It -was Christmas week we took to no settled employment, but spent -it in a sort of merry domestic dissipation. The air of the moors, -the freedom of home, the dawn of prosperity, acted on Diana and -Mary's spirits like some lifegiving elixir they were gay from -morning till noon, and from noon till night. They could always -talk and their discourse, witty, pithy, original, had such charms -for me, that I preferred listening to, and sharing in it, to doing -anything else. St. John did not rebuke our vivacity but he escaped -from it he was seldom in the house his parish was large, the -population scattered, and he found daily business in visiting the -sick and poor in its different districts. -One morning at breakfast, Diana, after looking a little pensive -for some minutes, asked him, "If his plans were yet unchanged." -"Unchanged and unchangeable," was the reply. And he proceeded -to inform us that his departure from England was now definitively -fixed for the ensuing year. -"And Rosamond Oliver?" suggested Mary, the words seeming to escape -her lips involuntarily for no sooner had she uttered them, than -she made a gesture as if wishing to recall them. St. John had a -book in his hand it was his unsocial custom to read at meals -he closed it, and looked up, -"Rosamond Oliver," said he, "is about to be married to Mr. Granby, -one of the best connected and most estimable residents in S, -grandson and heir to Sir Frederic Granby I had the intelligence -from her father yesterday." -His sisters looked at each other and at me we all three looked at -him he was serene as glass. -"The match must have been got up hastily," said Diana "they cannot -have known each other long." -"But two months they met in October at the county ball at S. But -where there are no obstacles to a union, as in the present case, -where the connection is in every point desirable, delays are -unnecessary they will be married as soon as S Place, which Sir -Frederic gives up to them, can he refitted for their reception." -The first time I found St. John alone after this communication, I -felt tempted to inquire if the event distressed him but he seemed -so little to need sympathy, that, so far from venturing to offer -him more, I experienced some shame at the recollection of what I -had already hazarded. Besides, I was out of practice in talking -to him his reserve was again frozen over, and my frankness was -congealed beneath it. He had not kept his promise of treating me -like his sisters he continually made little chilling differences -between us, which did not at all tend to the development of -cordiality in short, now that I was acknowledged his kinswoman, -and lived under the same roof with him, I felt the distance between -us to be far greater than when he had known me only as the village -schoolmistress. When I remembered how far I had once been admitted -to his confidence, I could hardly comprehend his present frigidity. -Such being the case, I felt not a little surprised when he raised -his head suddenly from the desk over which he was stooping, and said -"You see, Jane, the battle is fought and the victory won." -Startled at being thus addressed, I did not immediately -reply after a moment's hesitation I answered -"But are you sure you are not in the position of those conquerors -whose triumphs have cost them too dear? Would not such another -ruin you?" -"I think not and if I were, it does not much signify I shall -never be called upon to contend for such another. The event of the -conflict is decisive my way is now clear I thank God for it" -So saying, he returned to his papers and his silence. -As our mutual happiness i.e., Diana's, Mary's, and mine settled -into a quieter character, and we resumed our usual habits and regular -studies, St. John stayed more at home he sat with us in the same -room, sometimes for hours together. While Mary drew, Diana pursued -a course of encyclopaedic reading she had to my awe and amazement -undertaken, and I fagged away at German, he pondered a mystic lore -of his own that of some Eastern tongue, the acquisition of which -he thought necessary to his plans. -Thus engaged, he appeared, sitting in his own recess, quiet and -absorbed enough but that blue eye of his had a habit of leaving -the outlandishlooking grammar, and wandering over, and sometimes -fixing upon us, his fellowstudents, with a curious intensity of -observation if caught, it would be instantly withdrawn yet ever -and anon, it returned searchingly to our table. I wondered what -it meant I wondered, too, at the punctual satisfaction he never -failed to exhibit on an occasion that seemed to me of small moment, -namely, my weekly visit to Morton school and still more was I -puzzled when, if the day was unfavourable, if there was snow, or -rain, or high wind, and his sisters urged me not to go, he would -invariably make light of their solicitude, and encourage me to -accomplish the task without regard to the elements. -"Jane is not such a weakling as you would make her," he would say -"she can bear a mountain blast, or a shower, or a few flakes of -snow, as well as any of us. Her constitution is both sound and -elastic better calculated to endure variations of climate than -many more robust." -And when I returned, sometimes a good deal tired, and not a little -weatherbeaten, I never dared complain, because I saw that to murmur -would be to vex him on all occasions fortitude pleased him the -reverse was a special annoyance. -One afternoon, however, I got leave to stay at home, because I -really had a cold. His sisters were gone to Morton in my stead I -sat reading Schiller he, deciphering his crabbed Oriental scrolls. -As I exchanged a translation for an exercise, I happened to look his -way there I found myself under the influence of the everwatchful -blue eye. How long it had been searching me through and through, -and over and over, I cannot tell so keen was it, and yet so cold, -I felt for the moment superstitious as if I were sitting in the -room with something uncanny. -"Jane, what are you doing?" -"Learning German." -"I want you to give up German and learn Hindostanee." -"You are not in earnest?" -"In such earnest that I must have it so and I will tell you why." -He then went on to explain that Hindostanee was the language he -was himself at present studying that, as he advanced, he was apt -to forget the commencement that it would assist him greatly to have -a pupil with whom he might again and again go over the elements, -and so fix them thoroughly in his mind that his choice had hovered -for some time between me and his sisters but that he had fixed on -me because he saw I could sit at a task the longest of the three. -Would I do him this favour? I should not, perhaps, have to make -the sacrifice long, as it wanted now barely three months to his -departure. -St. John was not a man to be lightly refused you felt that every -impression made on him, either for pain or pleasure, was deepgraved and -permanent. I consented. When Diana and Mary returned, the former -found her scholar transferred from her to her brother she -laughed, and both she and Mary agreed that St. John should -never have persuaded them to such a step. He answered quietly -"I know it." -I found him a very patient, very forbearing, and yet an exacting -master he expected me to do a great deal and when I fulfilled his -expectations, he, in his own way, fully testified his approbation. -By degrees, he acquired a certain influence over me that took away -my liberty of mind his praise and notice were more restraining -than his indifference. I could no longer talk or laugh freely when -he was by, because a tiresomely importunate instinct reminded me -that vivacity at least in me was distasteful to him. I was so -fully aware that only serious moods and occupations were acceptable, -that in his presence every effort to sustain or follow any other -became vain I fell under a freezing spell. When he said "go," I -went "come," I came "do this," I did it. But I did not love my -servitude I wished, many a time, he had continued to neglect me. -One evening when, at bedtime, his sisters and I stood round him, -bidding him goodnight, he kissed each of them, as was his custom -and, as was equally his custom, he gave me his hand. Diana, who -chanced to be in a frolicsome humour SHE was not painfully controlled -by his will for hers, in another way, was as strong, exclaimed -"St. John you used to call Jane your third sister, but you don't -treat her as such you should kiss her too." -She pushed me towards him. I thought Diana very provoking, and felt -uncomfortably confused and while I was thus thinking and feeling, -St. John bent his head his Greek face was brought to a level with -mine, his eyes questioned my eyes piercingly he kissed me. There -are no such things as marble kisses or ice kisses, or I should say -my ecclesiastical cousin's salute belonged to one of these classes -but there may be experiment kisses, and his was an experiment kiss. -When given, he viewed me to learn the result it was not striking -I am sure I did not blush perhaps I might have turned a little -pale, for I felt as if this kiss were a seal affixed to my fetters. -He never omitted the ceremony afterwards, and the gravity and -quiescence with which I underwent it, seemed to invest it for him -with a certain charm. -As for me, I daily wished more to please him but to do so, I felt -daily more and more that I must disown half my nature, stifle half -my faculties, wrest my tastes from their original bent, force myself -to the adoption of pursuits for which I had no natural vocation. He -wanted to train me to an elevation I could never reach it racked -me hourly to aspire to the standard he uplifted. The thing was -as impossible as to mould my irregular features to his correct and -classic pattern, to give to my changeable green eyes the seablue -tint and solemn lustre of his own. -Not his ascendancy alone, however, held me in thrall at present. -Of late it had been easy enough for me to look sad a cankering -evil sat at my heart and drained my happiness at its source the -evil of suspense. -Perhaps you think I had forgotten Mr. Rochester, reader, amidst -these changes of place and fortune. Not for a moment. His idea -was still with me, because it was not a vapour sunshine could -disperse, nor a sandtraced effigy storms could wash away it was -a name graven on a tablet, fated to last as long as the marble it -inscribed. The craving to know what had become of him followed -me everywhere when I was at Morton, I reentered my cottage every -evening to think of that and now at Moor House, I sought my bedroom -each night to brood over it. -In the course of my necessary correspondence with Mr. Briggs about -the will, I had inquired if he knew anything of Mr. Rochester's present -residence and state of health but, as St. John had conjectured, -he was quite ignorant of all concerning him. I then wrote to Mrs. -Fairfax, entreating information on the subject. I had calculated -with certainty on this step answering my end I felt sure it would -elicit an early answer. I was astonished when a fortnight passed -without reply but when two months wore away, and day after day -the post arrived and brought nothing for me, I fell a prey to the -keenest anxiety. -I wrote again there was a chance of my first letter having -missed. Renewed hope followed renewed effort it shone like the -former for some weeks, then, like it, it faded, flickered not -a line, not a word reached me. When half a year wasted in vain -expectancy, my hope died out, and then I felt dark indeed. -A fine spring shone round me, which I could not enjoy. Summer -approached Diana tried to cheer me she said I looked ill, and -wished to accompany me to the seaside. This St. John opposed he -said I did not want dissipation, I wanted employment my present -life was too purposeless, I required an aim and, I suppose, by way -of supplying deficiencies, he prolonged still further my lessons in -Hindostanee, and grew more urgent in requiring their accomplishment -and I, like a fool, never thought of resisting him I could not -resist him. -One day I had come to my studies in lower spirits than usual the -ebb was occasioned by a poignantly felt disappointment. Hannah had -told me in the morning there was a letter for me, and when I went -down to take it, almost certain that the longlooked for tidings -were vouchsafed me at last, I found only an unimportant note from -Mr. Briggs on business. The bitter check had wrung from me some -tears and now, as I sat poring over the crabbed characters and -flourishing tropes of an Indian scribe, my eyes filled again. -St. John called me to his side to read in attempting to do this -my voice failed me words were lost in sobs. He and I were the -only occupants of the parlour Diana was practising her music in -the drawingroom, Mary was gardening it was a very fine May day, -clear, sunny, and breezy. My companion expressed no surprise at -this emotion, nor did he question me as to its cause he only said -"We will wait a few minutes, Jane, till you are more composed." -And while I smothered the paroxysm with all haste, he sat calm and -patient, leaning on his desk, and looking like a physician watching -with the eye of science an expected and fully understood crisis -in a patient's malady. Having stifled my sobs, wiped my eyes, -and muttered something about not being very well that morning, I -resumed my task, and succeeded in completing it. St. John -put away my books and his, locked his desk, and said -"Now, Jane, you shall take a walk and with me." -"I will call Diana and Mary." -"No I want only one companion this morning, and that must be you. -Put on your things go out by the kitchendoor take the road -towards the head of Marsh Glen I will join you in a moment." -I know no medium I never in my life have known any medium in my -dealings with positive, hard characters, antagonistic to my own, -between absolute submission and determined revolt. I have always -faithfully observed the one, up to the very moment of bursting, -sometimes with volcanic vehemence, into the other and as neither -present circumstances warranted, nor my present mood inclined me -to mutiny, I observed careful obedience to St. John's directions -and in ten minutes I was treading the wild track of the glen, side -by side with him. -The breeze was from the west it came over the hills, sweet with -scents of heath and rush the sky was of stainless blue the stream -descending the ravine, swelled with past spring rains, poured -along plentiful and clear, catching golden gleams from the sun, -and sapphire tints from the firmament. As we advanced and left the -track, we trod a soft turf, mossy fine and emerald green, minutely -enamelled with a tiny white flower, and spangled with a starlike -yellow blossom the hills, meantime, shut us quite in for the -glen, towards its head, wound to their very core. -"Let us rest here," said St. John, as we reached the first stragglers -of a battalion of rocks, guarding a sort of pass, beyond which the -beck rushed down a waterfall and where, still a little farther, -the mountain shook off turf and flower, had only heath for raiment -and crag for gem where it exaggerated the wild to the savage, -and exchanged the fresh for the frowning where it guarded the -forlorn hope of solitude, and a last refuge for silence. -I took a seat St. John stood near me. He looked up the pass -and down the hollow his glance wandered away with the stream, and -returned to traverse the unclouded heaven which coloured it he -removed his hat, let the breeze stir his hair and kiss his brow. -He seemed in communion with the genius of the haunt with his eye -he bade farewell to something. -"And I shall see it again," he said aloud, "in dreams when I sleep -by the Ganges and again in a more remote hour when another -slumber overcomes me on the shore of a darker stream" -Strange words of a strange love An austere patriot's passion -for his fatherland He sat down for halfanhour we never spoke -neither he to me nor I to him that interval past, he recommenced -"Jane, I go in six weeks I have taken my berth in an East Indiaman -which sails on the th of June." -"God will protect you for you have undertaken His work," I answered. -"Yes," said he, "there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of -an infallible Master. I am not going out under human guidance, -subject to the defective laws and erring control of my feeble -fellowworms my king, my lawgiver, my captain, is the Allperfect. -It seems strange to me that all round me do not burn to enlist -under the same banner, to join in the same enterprise." -"All have not your powers, and it would be folly for the feeble to -wish to march with the strong." -"I do not speak to the feeble, or think of them I address only -such as are worthy of the work, and competent to accomplish it." -"Those are few in number, and difficult to discover." -"You say truly but when found, it is right to stir them up to -urge and exhort them to the effort to show them what their gifts -are, and why they were given to speak Heaven's message in their -ear, to offer them, direct from God, a place in the ranks of -His chosen." -"If they are really qualified for the task, will not their own -hearts be the first to inform them of it?" -I felt as if an awful charm was framing round and gathering over -me I trembled to hear some fatal word spoken which would at once -declare and rivet the spell. -"And what does YOUR heart say?" demanded St. John. -"My heart is mute, my heart is mute," I answered, struck and -thrilled. -"Then I must speak for it," continued the deep, relentless voice. -"Jane, come with me to India come as my helpmeet and fellowlabourer." -The glen and sky spun round the hills heaved It was as if I had -heard a summons from Heaven as if a visionary messenger, like -him of Macedonia, had enounced, "Come over and help us" But I -was no apostle, I could not behold the herald, I could not -receive his call. -"Oh, St. John" I cried, "have some mercy" -I appealed to one who, in the discharge of what he believed -his duty, knew neither mercy nor remorse. He continued -"God and nature intended you for a missionary's wife. It is -not personal, but mental endowments they have given you you are -formed for labour, not for love. A missionary's wife you must -shall be. You shall be mine I claim you not for my pleasure, -but for my Sovereign's service." -"I am not fit for it I have no vocation," I said. -He had calculated on these first objections he was not irritated -by them. Indeed, as he leaned back against the crag behind him, -folded his arms on his chest, and fixed his countenance, I saw he -was prepared for a long and trying opposition, and had taken in a -stock of patience to last him to its close resolved, however, -that that close should be conquest for him. -"Humility, Jane," said he, "is the groundwork of Christian virtues -you say right that you are not fit for the work. Who is fit for -it? Or who, that ever was truly called, believed himself worthy -of the summons? I, for instance, am but dust and ashes. With St. -Paul, I acknowledge myself the chiefest of sinners but I do not -suffer this sense of my personal vileness to daunt me. I know -my Leader that He is just as well as mighty and while He has -chosen a feeble instrument to perform a great task, He will, from -the boundless stores of His providence, supply the inadequacy of -the means to the end. Think like me, Jane trust like me. It -is the Rock of Ages I ask you to lean on do not doubt but it will -bear the weight of your human weakness." -"I do not understand a missionary life I have never studied -missionary labours." -"There I, humble as I am, can give you the aid you want I can -set you your task from hour to hour stand by you always help you -from moment to moment. This I could do in the beginning soon -for I know your powers you would be as strong and apt as myself, -and would not require my help." -"But my powers where are they for this undertaking? I do not -feel them. Nothing speaks or stirs in me while you talk. I am -sensible of no light kindling no life quickening no voice -counselling or cheering. Oh, I wish I could make you see how much -my mind is at this moment like a rayless dungeon, with one shrinking -fear fettered in its depths the fear of being persuaded by you -to attempt what I cannot accomplish" -"I have an answer for you hear it. I have watched you ever -since we first met I have made you my study for ten months. I -have proved you in that time by sundry tests and what have I -seen and elicited? In the village school I found you could perform -well, punctually, uprightly, labour uncongenial to your habits and -inclinations I saw you could perform it with capacity and tact -you could win while you controlled. In the calm with which you -learnt you had become suddenly rich, I read a mind clear of the -vice of Demas lucre had no undue power over you. In the resolute -readiness with which you cut your wealth into four shares, keeping -but one to yourself, and relinquishing the three others to the -claim of abstract justice, I recognised a soul that revelled in -the flame and excitement of sacrifice. In the tractability with -which, at my wish, you forsook a study in which you were interested, -and adopted another because it interested me in the untiring assiduity -with which you have since persevered in it in the unflagging -energy and unshaken temper with which you have met its difficulties -I acknowledge the complement of the qualities I seek. Jane, -you are docile, diligent, disinterested, faithful, constant, -and courageous very gentle, and very heroic cease to mistrust -yourself I can trust you unreservedly. As a conductress of -Indian schools, and a helper amongst Indian women, your assistance -will be to me invaluable." -My iron shroud contracted round me persuasion advanced with -slow sure step. Shut my eyes as I would, these last words of his -succeeded in making the way, which had seemed blocked up, comparatively -clear. My work, which had appeared so vague, so hopelessly diffuse, -condensed itself as he proceeded, and assumed a definite form under -his shaping hand. He waited for an answer. I demanded a quarter -of an hour to think, before I again hazarded a reply. -"Very willingly," he rejoined and rising, he strode a little -distance up the pass, threw himself down on a swell of heath, and -there lay still. -"I CAN do what he wants me to do I am forced to see and acknowledge -that," I meditated, "that is, if life be spared me. But I feel -mine is not the existence to be long protracted under an Indian -sun. What then? He does not care for that when my time came to -die, he would resign me, in all serenity and sanctity, to the God -who gave me. The case is very plain before me. In leaving England, -I should leave a loved but empty land Mr. Rochester is not there -and if he were, what is, what can that ever be to me? My business -is to live without him now nothing so absurd, so weak as to drag -on from day to day, as if I were waiting some impossible change in -circumstances, which might reunite me to him. Of course as St. -John once said I must seek another interest in life to replace the -one lost is not the occupation he now offers me truly the most -glorious man can adopt or God assign? Is it not, by its noble cares -and sublime results, the one best calculated to fill the void left -by uptorn affections and demolished hopes? I believe I must say, -Yes and yet I shudder. Alas If I join St. John, I abandon -half myself if I go to India, I go to premature death. And how -will the interval between leaving England for India, and India for -the grave, be filled? Oh, I know well That, too, is very clear -to my vision. By straining to satisfy St. John till my sinews ache, -I SHALL satisfy him to the finest central point and farthest -outward circle of his expectations. If I DO go with him if I -DO make the sacrifice he urges, I will make it absolutely I will -throw all on the altar heart, vitals, the entire victim. He will -never love me but he shall approve me I will show him energies -he has not yet seen, resources he has never suspected. Yes, I can -work as hard as he can, and with as little grudging. -"Consent, then, to his demand is possible but for one item -one dreadful item. It is that he asks me to be his wife, and -has no more of a husband's heart for me than that frowning giant -of a rock, down which the stream is foaming in yonder gorge. He -prizes me as a soldier would a good weapon and that is all. -Unmarried to him, this would never grieve me but can I let him -complete his calculations coolly put into practice his plans -go through the wedding ceremony? Can I receive from him the bridal -ring, endure all the forms of love which I doubt not he would -scrupulously observe and know that the spirit was quite absent? -Can I bear the consciousness that every endearment he bestows -is a sacrifice made on principle? No such a martyrdom would -be monstrous. I will never undergo it. As his sister, I might -accompany him not as his wife I will tell him so." -I looked towards the knoll there he lay, still as a prostrate -column his face turned to me his eye beaming watchful and keen. -He started to his feet and approached me. -"I am ready to go to India, if I may go free." -"Your answer requires a commentary," he said "it is not clear." -"You have hitherto been my adopted brother I, your adopted -sister let us continue as such you and I had better not marry." -He shook his head. "Adopted fraternity will not do in this case. -If you were my real sister it would be different I should take -you, and seek no wife. But as it is, either our union must be -consecrated and sealed by marriage, or it cannot exist practical -obstacles oppose themselves to any other plan. Do you not see it, -Jane? Consider a moment your strong sense will guide you." -I did consider and still my sense, such as it was, directed me -only to the fact that we did not love each other as man and wife -should and therefore it inferred we ought not to marry. I said -so. "St. John," I returned, "I regard you as a brother you, me -as a sister so let us continue." -"We cannot we cannot," he answered, with short, sharp -determination "it would not do. You have said you will go with -me to India remember you have said that." -"Conditionally." -"Well well. To the main point the departure with me from -England, the cooperation with me in my future labours you do not -object. You have already as good as put your hand to the plough -you are too consistent to withdraw it. You have but one end to -keep in view how the work you have undertaken can best be done. -Simplify your complicated interests, feelings, thoughts, wishes, -aims merge all considerations in one purpose that of fulfilling -with effect with power the mission of your great Master. To -do so, you must have a coadjutor not a brother that is a loose -tie but a husband. I, too, do not want a sister a sister -might any day be taken from me. I want a wife the sole helpmeet -I can influence efficiently in life, and retain absolutely till -death." -I shuddered as he spoke I felt his influence in my marrow his -hold on my limbs. -"Seek one elsewhere than in me, St. John seek one fitted to you." -"One fitted to my purpose, you mean fitted to my vocation. Again -I tell you it is not the insignificant private individual the -mere man, with the man's selfish senses I wish to mate it is -the missionary." -"And I will give the missionary my energies it is all he wants -but not myself that would be only adding the husk and shell -to the kernel. For them he has no use I retain them." -"You cannot you ought not. Do you think God will be satisfied -with half an oblation? Will He accept a mutilated sacrifice? It -is the cause of God I advocate it is under His standard I enlist -you. I cannot accept on His behalf a divided allegiance it must -be entire." -"Oh I will give my heart to God," I said. "YOU do not want it." -I will not swear, reader, that there was not something of repressed -sarcasm both in the tone in which I uttered this sentence, and in -the feeling that accompanied it. I had silently feared St. John -till now, because I had not understood him. He had held me in -awe, because he had held me in doubt. How much of him was saint, -how much mortal, I could not heretofore tell but revelations -were being made in this conference the analysis of his nature was -proceeding before my eyes. I saw his fallibilities I comprehended -them. I understood that, sitting there where I did, on the bank -of heath, and with that handsome form before me, I sat at the feet -of a man, caring as I. The veil fell from his hardness and despotism. -Having felt in him the presence of these qualities, I felt his -imperfection and took courage. I was with an equal one with -whom I might argue one whom, if I saw good, I might resist. -He was silent after I had uttered the last sentence, and I presently -risked an upward glance at his countenance. -His eye, bent on me, expressed at once stern surprise and keen -inquiry. "Is she sarcastic, and sarcastic to ME" it seemed to -say. "What does this signify?" -"Do not let us forget that this is a solemn matter," he said ere -long "one of which we may neither think nor talk lightly without -sin. I trust, Jane, you are in earnest when you say you will serve -your heart to God it is all I want. Once wrench your heart from -man, and fix it on your Maker, the advancement of that Maker's -spiritual kingdom on earth will be your chief delight and endeavour -you will be ready to do at once whatever furthers that end. You -will see what impetus would be given to your efforts and mine by -our physical and mental union in marriage the only union that -gives a character of permanent conformity to the destinies and -designs of human beings and, passing over all minor caprices -all trivial difficulties and delicacies of feeling all scruple -about the degree, kind, strength or tenderness of mere personal -inclination you will hasten to enter into that union at once." -"Shall I?" I said briefly and I looked at his features, beautiful -in their harmony, but strangely formidable in their still severity -at his brow, commanding but not open at his eyes, bright and deep -and searching, but never soft at his tall imposing figure and -fancied myself in idea HIS WIFE. Oh it would never do As his -curate, his comrade, all would be right I would cross oceans with -him in that capacity toil under Eastern suns, in Asian deserts with -him in that office admire and emulate his courage and devotion and -vigour accommodate quietly to his masterhood smile undisturbed -at his ineradicable ambition discriminate the Christian from the -man profoundly esteem the one, and freely forgive the other. I -should suffer often, no doubt, attached to him only in this capacity -my body would be under rather a stringent yoke, but my heart and -mind would be free. I should still have my unblighted self to turn -to my natural unenslaved feelings with which to communicate in -moments of loneliness. There would be recesses in my mind which -would be only mine, to which he never came, and sentiments growing -there fresh and sheltered which his austerity could never blight, -nor his measured warriormarch trample down but as his wife -at his side always, and always restrained, and always checked -forced to keep the fire of my nature continually low, to compel -it to burn inwardly and never utter a cry, though the imprisoned -flame consumed vital after vital THIS would be unendurable. -"St. John" I exclaimed, when I had got so far in my meditation. -"Well?" he answered icily. -"I repeat I freely consent to go with you as your fellowmissionary, -but not as your wife I cannot marry you and become part of you." -"A part of me you must become," he answered steadily "otherwise -the whole bargain is void. How can I, a man not yet thirty, take -out with me to India a girl of nineteen, unless she be married to -me? How can we be for ever together sometimes in solitudes, -sometimes amidst savage tribes and unwed?" -"Very well," I said shortly "under the circumstances, quite as -well as if I were either your real sister, or a man and a clergyman -like yourself." -"It is known that you are not my sister I cannot introduce you as -such to attempt it would be to fasten injurious suspicions on us -both. And for the rest, though you have a man's vigorous brain, -you have a woman's heart and it would not do." -"It would do," I affirmed with some disdain, "perfectly well. I -have a woman's heart, but not where you are concerned for you -I have only a comrade's constancy a fellowsoldier's frankness, -fidelity, fraternity, if you like a neophyte's respect and submission -to his hierophant nothing more don't fear." -"It is what I want," he said, speaking to himself "it is just what -I want. And there are obstacles in the way they must be hewn -down. Jane, you would not repent marrying me be certain of -that we MUST be married. I repeat it there is no other way -and undoubtedly enough of love would follow upon marriage to render -the union right even in your eyes." -"I scorn your idea of love," I could not help saying, as I rose up -and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. "I scorn -the counterfeit sentiment you offer yes, St. John, and I scorn -you when you offer it." -He looked at me fixedly, compressing his wellcut lips while he -did so. Whether he was incensed or surprised, or what, it was not -easy to tell he could command his countenance thoroughly. -"I scarcely expected to hear that expression from you," he said -"I think I have done and uttered nothing to deserve scorn." -I was touched by his gentle tone, and overawed by his high, calm -mien. -"Forgive me the words, St. John but it is your own fault that -I have been roused to speak so unguardedly. You have introduced -a topic on which our natures are at variance a topic we should -never discuss the very name of love is an apple of discord between -us. If the reality were required, what should we do? How should -we feel? My dear cousin, abandon your scheme of marriage forget -it." -"No," said he "it is a longcherished scheme, and the only one -which can secure my great end but I shall urge you no further -at present. Tomorrow, I leave home for Cambridge I have many -friends there to whom I should wish to say farewell. I shall be -absent a fortnight take that space of time to consider my offer -and do not forget that if you reject it, it is not me you deny, -but God. Through my means, He opens to you a noble career as my -wife only can you enter upon it. Refuse to be my wife, and you limit -yourself for ever to a track of selfish ease and barren obscurity. -Tremble lest in that case you should be numbered with those who -have denied the faith, and are worse than infidels" -He had done. Turning from me, he once more -"Looked to river, looked to hill." -But this time his feelings were all pent in his heart I was not -worthy to hear them uttered. As I walked by his side homeward, -I read well in his iron silence all he felt towards me the -disappointment of an austere and despotic nature, which has met -resistance where it expected submission the disapprobation of a -cool, inflexible judgment, which has detected in another feelings -and views in which it has no power to sympathise in short, as a -man, he would have wished to coerce me into obedience it was only -as a sincere Christian he bore so patiently with my perversity, -and allowed so long a space for reflection and repentance. -That night, after he had kissed his sisters, he thought proper to -forget even to shake hands with me, but left the room in silence. -I who, though I had no love, had much friendship for him was -hurt by the marked omission so much hurt that tears started to -my eyes. -"I see you and St. John have been quarrelling, Jane," said Diana, -"during your walk on the moor. But go after him he is now lingering -in the passage expecting you he will make it up." -I have not much pride under such circumstances I would always -rather be happy than dignified and I ran after him he stood at -the foot of the stairs. -"Goodnight, St. John," said I. -"Goodnight, Jane," he replied calmly. -"Then shake hands," I added. -What a cold, loose touch, he impressed on my fingers He was -deeply displeased by what had occurred that day cordiality would -not warm, nor tears move him. No happy reconciliation was to -be had with him no cheering smile or generous word but still -the Christian was patient and placid and when I asked him if he -forgave me, he answered that he was not in the habit of cherishing -the remembrance of vexation that he had nothing to forgive, not -having been offended. -And with that answer he left me. I would much rather he had knocked -me down. -CHAPTER XXXV -He did not leave for Cambridge the next day, as he had said he -would. He deferred his departure a whole week, and during that -time he made me feel what severe punishment a good yet stern, a -conscientious yet implacable man can inflict on one who has offended -him. Without one overt act of hostility, one upbraiding word, he -contrived to impress me momently with the conviction that I was -put beyond the pale of his favour. -Not that St. John harboured a spirit of unchristian vindictiveness -not that he would have injured a hair of my head, if it had been -fully in his power to do so. Both by nature and principle, he was -superior to the mean gratification of vengeance he had forgiven -me for saying I scorned him and his love, but he had not forgotten -the words and as long as he and I lived he never would forget -them. I saw by his look, when he turned to me, that they were -always written on the air between me and him whenever I spoke, they -sounded in my voice to his ear, and their echo toned every answer -he gave me. -He did not abstain from conversing with me he even called me as -usual each morning to join him at his desk and I fear the corrupt -man within him had a pleasure unimparted to, and unshared by, the -pure Christian, in evincing with what skill he could, while acting -and speaking apparently just as usual, extract from every deed and -every phrase the spirit of interest and approval which had formerly -communicated a certain austere charm to his language and manner. -To me, he was in reality become no longer flesh, but marble his -eye was a cold, bright, blue gem his tongue a speaking instrument -nothing more. -All this was torture to me refined, lingering torture. It kept -up a slow fire of indignation and a trembling trouble of grief, -which harassed and crushed me altogether. I felt how if I were -his wife, this good man, pure as the deep sunless source, could soon -kill me, without drawing from my veins a single drop of blood, or -receiving on his own crystal conscience the faintest stain of crime. -Especially I felt this when I made any attempt to propitiate him. -No ruth met my ruth. HE experienced no suffering from estrangement -no yearning after reconciliation and though, more than once, -my fast falling tears blistered the page over which we both bent, -they produced no more effect on him than if his heart had been -really a matter of stone or metal. To his sisters, meantime, he -was somewhat kinder than usual as if afraid that mere coldness -would not sufficiently convince me how completely I was banished -and banned, he added the force of contrast and this I am sure he -did not by force, but on principle. -The night before he left home, happening to see him walking in the -garden about sunset, and remembering, as I looked at him, that this -man, alienated as he now was, had once saved my life, and that we -were near relations, I was moved to make a last attempt to regain -his friendship. I went out and approached him as he stood leaning -over the little gate I spoke to the point at once. -"St. John, I am unhappy because you are still angry with me. Let -us be friends." -"I hope we are friends," was the unmoved reply while he still -watched the rising of the moon, which he had been contemplating as -I approached. -"No, St. John, we are not friends as we were. You know that." -"Are we not? That is wrong. For my part, I wish you no ill and -all good." -"I believe you, St. John for I am sure you are incapable of wishing -any one ill but, as I am your kinswoman, I should desire somewhat -more of affection than that sort of general philanthropy you extend -to mere strangers." -"Of course," he said. "Your wish is reasonable, and I am far from -regarding you as a stranger." -This, spoken in a cool, tranquil tone, was mortifying and baffling -enough. Had I attended to the suggestions of pride and ire, I -should immediately have left him but something worked within me -more strongly than those feelings could. I deeply venerated my -cousin's talent and principle. His friendship was of value to me -to lose it tried me severely. I would not so soon relinquish the -attempt to reconquer it. -"Must we part in this way, St. John? And when you go to India, will -you leave me so, without a kinder word than you have yet spoken?" -He now turned quite from the moon and faced me. -"When I go to India, Jane, will I leave you What do you not go -to India?" -"You said I could not unless I married you." -"And you will not marry me You adhere to that resolution?" -Reader, do you know, as I do, what terror those cold people can -put into the ice of their questions? How much of the fall of the -avalanche is in their anger? of the breaking up of the frozen sea -in their displeasure? -"No. St. John, I will not marry you. I adhere to my resolution." -The avalanche had shaken and slid a little forward, but it did not -yet crash down. -"Once more, why this refusal?" he asked. -"Formerly," I answered, "because you did not love me now, I reply, -because you almost hate me. If I were to marry you, you would kill -me. You are killing me now." -His lips and cheeks turned white quite white. -"I SHOULD KILL YOU I AM KILLING YOU? Your words are such as ought -not to be used violent, unfeminine, and untrue. They betray an -unfortunate state of mind they merit severe reproof they would -seem inexcusable, but that it is the duty of man to forgive his -fellow even until seventyandseven times." -I had finished the business now. While earnestly wishing to erase -from his mind the trace of my former offence, I had stamped on that -tenacious surface another and far deeper impression, I had burnt -it in. -"Now you will indeed hate me," I said. "It is useless to attempt -to conciliate you I see I have made an eternal enemy of you." -A fresh wrong did these words inflict the worse, because they -touched on the truth. That bloodless lip quivered to a temporary -spasm. I knew the steely ire I had whetted. I was heartwrung. -"You utterly misinterpret my words," I said, at once seizing his -hand "I have no intention to grieve or pain you indeed, I have -not." -Most bitterly he smiled most decidedly he withdrew his hand from -mine. "And now you recall your promise, and will not go to India -at all, I presume?" said he, after a considerable pause. -"Yes, I will, as your assistant," I answered. -A very long silence succeeded. What struggle there was in him -between Nature and Grace in this interval, I cannot tell only -singular gleams scintillated in his eyes, and strange shadows passed -over his face. He spoke at last. -"I before proved to you the absurdity of a single woman of your -age proposing to accompany abroad a single man of mine. I proved -it to you in such terms as, I should have thought, would have -prevented your ever again alluding to the plan. That you have done -so, I regret for your sake." -I interrupted him. Anything like a tangible reproach gave me -courage at once. "Keep to common sense, St. John you are verging -on nonsense. You pretend to be shocked by what I have said. You -are not really shocked for, with your superior mind, you cannot -be either so dull or so conceited as to misunderstand my meaning. -I say again, I will be your curate, if you like, but never your -wife." -Again he turned lividly pale but, as before, controlled -his passion perfectly. He answered emphatically but calmly -"A female curate, who is not my wife, would never suit me. With -me, then, it seems, you cannot go but if you are sincere in your -offer, I will, while in town, speak to a married missionary, whose -wife needs a coadjutor. Your own fortune will make you independent -of the Society's aid and thus you may still be spared the dishonour -of breaking your promise and deserting the band you engaged to -join." -Now I never had, as the reader knows, either given any formal -promise or entered into any engagement and this language was all -much too hard and much too despotic for the occasion. I replied -"There is no dishonour, no breach of promise, no desertion in the -case. I am not under the slightest obligation to go to India, -especially with strangers. With you I would have ventured much, -because I admire, confide in, and, as a sister, I love you but I -am convinced that, go when and with whom I would, I should not live -long in that climate." -"Ah you are afraid of yourself," he said, curling his lip. -"I am. God did not give me my life to throw away and to do as you -wish me would, I begin to think, be almost equivalent to committing -suicide. Moreover, before I definitively resolve on quitting -England, I will know for certain whether I cannot be of greater -use by remaining in it than by leaving it." -"What do you mean?" -"It would be fruitless to attempt to explain but there is a point -on which I have long endured painful doubt, and I can go nowhere -till by some means that doubt is removed." -"I know where your heart turns and to what it clings. The interest -you cherish is lawless and unconsecrated. Long since you ought to -have crushed it now you should blush to allude to it. You think -of Mr. Rochester?" -It was true. I confessed it by silence. -"Are you going to seek Mr. Rochester?" -"I must find out what is become of him." -"It remains for me, then," he said, "to remember you in my prayers, -and to entreat God for you, in all earnestness, that you may not -indeed become a castaway. I had thought I recognised in you one of -the chosen. But God sees not as man sees HIS will be done " -He opened the gate, passed through it, and strayed away down the -glen. He was soon out of sight. -On reentering the parlour, I found Diana standing at the window, -looking very thoughtful. Diana was a great deal taller than I -she put her hand on my shoulder, and, stooping, examined my face. -"Jane," she said, "you are always agitated and pale now. I am -sure there is something the matter. Tell me what business St. John -and you have on hands. I have watched you this half hour from the -window you must forgive my being such a spy, but for a long time -I have fancied I hardly know what. St. John is a strange being " -She paused I did not speak soon she resumed -"That brother of mine cherishes peculiar views of some sort respecting -you, I am sure he has long distinguished you by a notice and -interest he never showed to any one else to what end? I wish -he loved you does he, Jane?" -I put her cool hand to my hot forehead "No, Die, not one whit." -"Then why does he follow you so with his eyes, and get you so -frequently alone with him, and keep you so continually at his side? -Mary and I had both concluded he wished you to marry him." -"He does he has asked me to be his wife." -Diana clapped her hands. "That is just what we hoped and thought -And you will marry him, Jane, won't you? And then he will stay in -England." -"Far from that, Diana his sole idea in proposing to me is to -procure a fitting fellowlabourer in his Indian toils." -"What He wishes you to go to India?" -"Yes." -"Madness" she exclaimed. "You would not live three months there, -I am certain. You never shall go you have not consented, have -you, Jane?" -"I have refused to marry him " -"And have consequently displeased him?" she suggested. -"Deeply he will never forgive me, I fear yet I offered to -accompany him as his sister." -"It was frantic folly to do so, Jane. Think of the task you undertook -one of incessant fatigue, where fatigue kills even the strong, -and you are weak. St. John you know him would urge you to -impossibilities with him there would be no permission to rest -during the hot hours and unfortunately, I have noticed, whatever -he exacts, you force yourself to perform. I am astonished you -found courage to refuse his hand. You do not love him then, Jane?" -"Not as a husband." -"Yet he is a handsome fellow." -"And I am so plain, you see, Die. We should never suit." -"Plain You? Not at all. You are much too pretty, as well as too -good, to be grilled alive in Calcutta." And again she earnestly -conjured me to give up all thoughts of going out with her brother. -"I must indeed," I said "for when just now I repeated the offer of -serving him for a deacon, he expressed himself shocked at my want -of decency. He seemed to think I had committed an impropriety in -proposing to accompany him unmarried as if I had not from the -first hoped to find in him a brother, and habitually regarded him -as such." -"What makes you say he does not love you, Jane?" -"You should hear himself on the subject. He has again and again -explained that it is not himself, but his office he wishes to mate. -He has told me I am formed for labour not for love which is -true, no doubt. But, in my opinion, if I am not formed for love, -it follows that I am not formed for marriage. Would it not be -strange, Die, to be chained for life to a man who regarded one but -as a useful tool?" -"Insupportable unnatural out of the question" -"And then," I continued, "though I have only sisterly affection -for him now, yet, if forced to be his wife, I can imagine the -possibility of conceiving an inevitable, strange, torturing kind -of love for him, because he is so talented and there is often a -certain heroic grandeur in his look, manner, and conversation. In -that case, my lot would become unspeakably wretched. He would not -want me to love him and if I showed the feeling, he would make me -sensible that it was a superfluity, unrequired by him, unbecoming -in me. I know he would." -"And yet St. John is a good man," said Diana. -"He is a good and a great man but he forgets, pitilessly, the -feelings and claims of little people, in pursuing his own large -views. It is better, therefore, for the insignificant to keep out -of his way, lest, in his progress, he should trample them down. -Here he comes I will leave you, Diana." And I hastened upstairs -as I saw him entering the garden. -But I was forced to meet him again at supper. During that meal he -appeared just as composed as usual. I had thought he would hardly -speak to me, and I was certain he had given up the pursuit of -his matrimonial scheme the sequel showed I was mistaken on both -points. He addressed me precisely in his ordinary manner, or what -had, of late, been his ordinary manner one scrupulously polite. -No doubt he had invoked the help of the Holy Spirit to subdue the -anger I had roused in him, and now believed he had forgiven me once -more. -For the evening reading before prayers, he selected the twentyfirst -chapter of Revelation. It was at all times pleasant to listen -while from his lips fell the words of the Bible never did his -fine voice sound at once so sweet and full never did his manner -become so impressive in its noble simplicity, as when he delivered -the oracles of God and tonight that voice took a more solemn -tone that manner a more thrilling meaning as he sat in the -midst of his household circle the May moon shining in through the -uncurtained window, and rendering almost unnecessary the light of -the candle on the table as he sat there, bending over the great -old Bible, and described from its page the vision of the new heaven -and the new earth told how God would come to dwell with men, -how He would wipe away all tears from their eyes, and promised that -there should be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, nor any -more pain, because the former things were passed away. -The succeeding words thrilled me strangely as he spoke them -especially as I felt, by the slight, indescribable alteration in -sound, that in uttering them, his eye had turned on me. -"He that overcometh shall inherit all things and I will be his -God, and he shall be my son. But," was slowly, distinctly read, -"the fearful, the unbelieving, c., shall have their part in the -lake which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second -death." -Henceforward, I knew what fate St. John feared for me. -A calm, subdued triumph, blent with a longing earnestness, marked -his enunciation of the last glorious verses of that chapter. The -reader believed his name was already written in the Lamb's book of -life, and he yearned after the hour which should admit him to the -city to which the kings of the earth bring their glory and honour -which has no need of sun or moon to shine in it, because the glory -of God lightens it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. -In the prayer following the chapter, all his energy gathered all -his stern zeal woke he was in deep earnest, wrestling with God, -and resolved on a conquest. He supplicated strength for the weak -hearted guidance for wanderers from the fold a return, even at -the eleventh hour, for those whom the temptations of the world and -the flesh were luring from the narrow path. He asked, he urged, he -claimed the boon of a brand snatched from the burning. Earnestness -is ever deeply solemn first, as I listened to that prayer, I -wondered at his then, when it continued and rose, I was touched -by it, and at last awed. He felt the greatness and goodness of -his purpose so sincerely others who heard him plead for it, could -not but feel it too. -The prayer over, we took leave of him he was to go at a very -early hour in the morning. Diana and Mary having kissed him, left -the room in compliance, I think, with a whispered hint from him -I tendered my hand, and wished him a pleasant journey. -"Thank you, Jane. As I said, I shall return from Cambridge in a -fortnight that space, then, is yet left you for reflection. If -I listened to human pride, I should say no more to you of marriage -with me but I listen to my duty, and keep steadily in view my -first aim to do all things to the glory of God. My Master was -longsuffering so will I be. I cannot give you up to perdition -as a vessel of wrath repent resolve, while there is yet time. -Remember, we are bid to work while it is day warned that 'the -night cometh when no man shall work.' Remember the fate of Dives, -who had his good things in this life. God give you strength to -choose that better part which shall not be taken from you" -He laid his hand on my head as he uttered the last words. He had -spoken earnestly, mildly his look was not, indeed, that of a lover -beholding his mistress, but it was that of a pastor recalling his -wandering sheep or better, of a guardian angel watching the -soul for which he is responsible. All men of talent, whether they -be men of feeling or not whether they be zealots, or aspirants, -or despots provided only they be sincere have their sublime -moments, when they subdue and rule. I felt veneration for St. John -veneration so strong that its impetus thrust me at once to the -point I had so long shunned. I was tempted to cease struggling -with him to rush down the torrent of his will into the gulf of -his existence, and there lose my own. I was almost as hard beset -by him now as I had been once before, in a different way, by another. -I was a fool both times. To have yielded then would have been an -error of principle to have yielded now would have been an error of -judgment. So I think at this hour, when I look back to the crisis -through the quiet medium of time I was unconscious of folly at -the instant. -I stood motionless under my hierophant's touch. My refusals were -forgotten my fears overcome my wrestlings paralysed. The -Impossible I.E., my marriage with St. John was fast becoming -the Possible. All was changing utterly with a sudden sweep. -Religion called Angels beckoned God commanded life rolled -together like a scroll death's gates opening, showed eternity -beyond it seemed, that for safety and bliss there, all here might -be sacrificed in a second. The dim room was full of visions. -"Could you decide now?" asked the missionary. The inquiry was put -in gentle tones he drew me to him as gently. Oh, that gentleness -how far more potent is it than force I could resist St. John's -wrath I grew pliant as a reed under his kindness. Yet I knew all -the time, if I yielded now, I should not the less be made to repent, -some day, of my former rebellion. His nature was not changed by -one hour of solemn prayer it was only elevated. -"I could decide if I were but certain," I answered "were I but -convinced that it is God's will I should marry you, I could vow to -marry you here and now come afterwards what would" -"My prayers are heard" ejaculated St. John. He pressed his hand -firmer on my head, as if he claimed me he surrounded me with his -arm, ALMOST as if he loved me I say ALMOST I knew the difference -for I had felt what it was to be loved but, like him, I had -now put love out of the question, and thought only of duty. I -contended with my inward dimness of vision, before which clouds -yet rolled. I sincerely, deeply, fervently longed to do what was -right and only that. "Show me, show me the path" I entreated -of Heaven. I was excited more than I had ever been and whether -what followed was the effect of excitement the reader shall judge. -All the house was still for I believe all, except St. John and -myself, were now retired to rest. The one candle was dying out -the room was full of moonlight. My heart beat fast and thick I -heard its throb. Suddenly it stood still to an inexpressible -feeling that thrilled it through, and passed at once to my head -and extremities. The feeling was not like an electric shock, but -it was quite as sharp, as strange, as startling it acted on my -senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had been but torpor, -from which they were now summoned and forced to wake. They rose -expectant eye and ear waited while the flesh quivered on my bones. -"What have you heard? What do you see?" asked St. John. I -saw nothing, but I heard a voice somewhere cry -"Jane Jane Jane" nothing more. -"O God what is it?" I gasped. -I might have said, "Where is it?" for it did not seem in the room -nor in the house nor in the garden it did not come out of -the air nor from under the earth nor from overhead. I had -heard it where, or whence, for ever impossible to know And it -was the voice of a human being a known, loved, wellremembered -voice that of Edward Fairfax Rochester and it spoke in pain -and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently. -"I am coming" I cried. "Wait for me Oh, I will come" I flew -to the door and looked into the passage it was dark. I ran out -into the garden it was void. -"Where are you?" I exclaimed. -The hills beyond Marsh Glen sent the answer faintly back "Where -are you?" I listened. The wind sighed low in the firs all was -moorland loneliness and midnight hush. -"Down superstition" I commented, as that spectre rose up black -by the black yew at the gate. "This is not thy deception, nor thy -witchcraft it is the work of nature. She was roused, and did -no miracle but her best." -I broke from St. John, who had followed, and would have detained -me. It was MY time to assume ascendency. MY powers were in play -and in force. I told him to forbear question or remark I desired -him to leave me I must and would be alone. He obeyed at once. -Where there is energy to command well enough, obedience never fails. -I mounted to my chamber locked myself in fell on my knees and -prayed in my way a different way to St. John's, but effective in -its own fashion. I seemed to penetrate very near a Mighty Spirit -and my soul rushed out in gratitude at His feet. I rose from the -thanksgiving took a resolve and lay down, unscared, enlightened -eager but for the daylight. -CHAPTER XXXVI -The daylight came. I rose at dawn. I busied myself for an hour or -two with arranging my things in my chamber, drawers, and wardrobe, -in the order wherein I should wish to leave them during a brief -absence. Meantime, I heard St. John quit his room. He stopped -at my door I feared he would knock no, but a slip of paper -was passed under the door. I took it up. It bore these words -"You left me too suddenly last night. Had you stayed but a little -longer, you would have laid your hand on the Christian's cross and -the angel's crown. I shall expect your clear decision when I return -this day fortnight. Meantime, watch and pray that you enter not -into temptation the spirit, I trust, is willing, but the flesh, -I see, is weak. I shall pray for you hourly. Yours, ST. JOHN." -"My spirit," I answered mentally, "is willing to do what is right -and my flesh, I hope, is strong enough to accomplish the will -of Heaven, when once that will is distinctly known to me. At any -rate, it shall be strong enough to search inquire to grope an -outlet from this cloud of doubt, and find the open day of certainty." -It was the first of June yet the morning was overcast and chilly -rain beat fast on my casement. I heard the frontdoor open, and -St. John pass out. Looking through the window, I saw him traverse -the garden. He took the way over the misty moors in the direction -of Whitcross there he would meet the coach. -"In a few more hours I shall succeed you in that track, cousin," -thought I "I too have a coach to meet at Whitcross. I too have -some to see and ask after in England, before I depart for ever." -It wanted yet two hours of breakfasttime. I filled the interval -in walking softly about my room, and pondering the visitation which -had given my plans their present bent. I recalled that inward -sensation I had experienced for I could recall it, with all its -unspeakable strangeness. I recalled the voice I had heard again -I questioned whence it came, as vainly as before it seemed in -ME not in the external world. I asked was it a mere nervous -impression a delusion? I could not conceive or believe it was -more like an inspiration. The wondrous shock of feeling had come -like the earthquake which shook the foundations of Paul and Silas's -prison it had opened the doors of the soul's cell and loosed -its bands it had wakened it out of its sleep, whence it sprang -trembling, listening, aghast then vibrated thrice a cry on my -startled ear, and in my quaking heart and through my spirit, which -neither feared nor shook, but exulted as if in joy over the success -of one effort it had been privileged to make, independent of the -cumbrous body. -"Ere many days," I said, as I terminated my musings, "I will know -something of him whose voice seemed last night to summon me. Letters -have proved of no avail personal inquiry shall replace them." -At breakfast I announced to Diana and Mary that I was going a -journey, and should be absent at least four days. -"Alone, Jane?" they asked. -"Yes it was to see or hear news of a friend about whom I had for -some time been uneasy." -They might have said, as I have no doubt they thought, that they -had believed me to be without any friends save them for, indeed, -I had often said so but, with their true natural delicacy, they -abstained from comment, except that Diana asked me if I was sure -I was well enough to travel. I looked very pale, she observed. I -replied, that nothing ailed me save anxiety of mind, which I hoped -soon to alleviate. -It was easy to make my further arrangements for I was troubled with -no inquiries no surmises. Having once explained to them that -I could not now be explicit about my plans, they kindly and wisely -acquiesced in the silence with which I pursued them, according to -me the privilege of free action I should under similar circumstances -have accorded them. -I left Moor House at three o'clock p.m., and soon after four I -stood at the foot of the signpost of Whitcross, waiting the arrival -of the coach which was to take me to distant Thornfield. Amidst -the silence of those solitary roads and desert hills, I heard it -approach from a great distance. It was the same vehicle whence, -a year ago, I had alighted one summer evening on this very spot -how desolate, and hopeless, and objectless It stopped as -I beckoned. I entered not now obliged to part with my whole -fortune as the price of its accommodation. Once more on the road -to Thornfield, I felt like the messengerpigeon flying home. -It was a journey of sixandthirty hours. I had set out from -Whitcross on a Tuesday afternoon, and early on the succeeding -Thursday morning the coach stopped to water the horses at a wayside -inn, situated in the midst of scenery whose green hedges and large -fields and low pastoral hills how mild of feature and verdant of -hue compared with the stern NorthMidland moors of Morton met my -eye like the lineaments of a once familiar face. Yes, I knew the -character of this landscape I was sure we were near my bourne. -"How far is Thornfield Hall from here?" I asked of the ostler. -"Just two miles, ma'am, across the fields." -"My journey is closed," I thought to myself. I got out of the -coach, gave a box I had into the ostler's charge, to be kept till -I called for it paid my fare satisfied the coachman, and was -going the brightening day gleamed on the sign of the inn, and I -read in gilt letters, "The Rochester Arms." My heart leapt up I -was already on my master's very lands. It fell again the thought -struck it -"Your master himself may be beyond the British Channel, for aught -you know and then, if he is at Thornfield Hall, towards which -you hasten, who besides him is there? His lunatic wife and you -have nothing to do with him you dare not speak to him or seek -his presence. You have lost your labour you had better go no -farther," urged the monitor. "Ask information of the people at the -inn they can give you all you seek they can solve your doubts at -once. Go up to that man, and inquire if Mr. Rochester be at home." -The suggestion was sensible, and yet I could not force myself to -act on it. I so dreaded a reply that would crush me with despair. -To prolong doubt was to prolong hope. I might yet once more see -the Hall under the ray of her star. There was the stile before -me the very fields through which I had hurried, blind, deaf, -distracted with a revengeful fury tracking and scourging me, on -the morning I fled from Thornfield ere I well knew what course -I had resolved to take, I was in the midst of them. How fast I -walked How I ran sometimes How I looked forward to catch the -first view of the wellknown woods With what feelings I welcomed -single trees I knew, and familiar glimpses of meadow and hill -between them -At last the woods rose the rookery clustered dark a loud cawing -broke the morning stillness. Strange delight inspired me on I -hastened. Another field crossed a lane threaded and there -were the courtyard walls the back offices the house itself, -the rookery still hid. "My first view of it shall be in front," I -determined, "where its bold battlements will strike the eye nobly at -once, and where I can single out my master's very window perhaps -he will be standing at it he rises early perhaps he is now -walking in the orchard, or on the pavement in front. Could I but -see him but a moment Surely, in that case, I should not be -so mad as to run to him? I cannot tell I am not certain. And -if I did what then? God bless him What then? Who would be -hurt by my once more tasting the life his glance can give me? I -rave perhaps at this moment he is watching the sun rise over the -Pyrenees, or on the tideless sea of the south." -I had coasted along the lower wall of the orchard turned -its angle there was a gate just there, opening into the meadow, -between two stone pillars crowned by stone balls. From behind one -pillar I could peep round quietly at the full front of the mansion. -I advanced my head with precaution, desirous to ascertain if any -bedroom windowblinds were yet drawn up battlements, windows, -long front all from this sheltered station were at my command. -The crows sailing overhead perhaps watched me while I took this -survey. I wonder what they thought. They must have considered -I was very careful and timid at first, and that gradually I grew -very bold and reckless. A peep, and then a long stare and then -a departure from my niche and a straying out into the meadow and -a sudden stop full in front of the great mansion, and a protracted, -hardy gaze towards it. "What affectation of diffidence was this -at first?" they might have demanded "what stupid regardlessness -now?" -Hear an illustration, reader. -A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank he wishes to -catch a glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals -softly over the grass, careful to make no sound he pauses -fancying she has stirred he withdraws not for worlds would he -be seen. All is still he again advances he bends above her -a light veil rests on her features he lifts it, bends lower now -his eyes anticipate the vision of beauty warm, and blooming, -and lovely, in rest. How hurried was their first glance But how -they fix How he starts How he suddenly and vehemently clasps -in both arms the form he dared not, a moment since, touch with -his finger How he calls aloud a name, and drops his burden, and -gazes on it wildly He thus grasps and cries, and gazes, because -he no longer fears to waken by any sound he can utter by any -movement he can make. He thought his love slept sweetly he finds -she is stone dead. -I looked with timorous joy towards a stately house I saw a -blackened ruin. -No need to cower behind a gatepost, indeed to peep up at -chamber lattices, fearing life was astir behind them No need to -listen for doors opening to fancy steps on the pavement or the -gravelwalk The lawn, the grounds were trodden and waste the -portal yawned void. The front was, as I had once seen it in a -dream, but a welllike wall, very high and very fragilelooking, -perforated with paneless windows no roof, no battlements, no -chimneys all had crashed in. -And there was the silence of death about it the solitude of -a lonesome wild. No wonder that letters addressed to people here -had never received an answer as well despatch epistles to a vault -in a church aisle. The grim blackness of the stones told by what -fate the Hall had fallen by conflagration but how kindled? -What story belonged to this disaster? What loss, besides mortar and -marble and woodwork had followed upon it? Had life been wrecked -as well as property? If so, whose? Dreadful question there was -no one here to answer it not even dumb sign, mute token. -In wandering round the shattered walls and through the devastated -interior, I gathered evidence that the calamity was not of late -occurrence. Winter snows, I thought, had drifted through that -void arch, winter rains beaten in at those hollow casements for, -amidst the drenched piles of rubbish, spring had cherished vegetation -grass and weed grew here and there between the stones and fallen -rafters. And oh where meantime was the hapless owner of this -wreck? In what land? Under what auspices? My eye involuntarily -wandered to the grey church tower near the gates, and I asked, -"Is he with Damer de Rochester, sharing the shelter of his narrow -marble house?" -Some answer must be had to these questions. I could find it nowhere -but at the inn, and thither, ere long, I returned. The host himself -brought my breakfast into the parlour. I requested him to shut the -door and sit down I had some questions to ask him. But when he -complied, I scarcely knew how to begin such horror had I of the -possible answers. And yet the spectacle of desolation I had just -left prepared me in a measure for a tale of misery. The host was -a respectablelooking, middleaged man. -"You know Thornfield Hall, of course?" I managed to say at last. -"Yes, ma'am I lived there once." -"Did you?" Not in my time, I thought you are a stranger to me. -"I was the late Mr. Rochester's butler," he added. -The late I seem to have received, with full force, the blow I -had been trying to evade. -"The late" I gasped. "Is he dead?" -"I mean the present gentleman, Mr. Edward's father," he explained. -I breathed again my blood resumed its flow. Fully assured by -these words that Mr. Edward MY Mr. Rochester God bless him, -wherever he was was at least alive was, in short, "the present -gentleman." Gladdening words It seemed I could hear all that was -to come whatever the disclosures might be with comparative -tranquillity. Since he was not in the grave, I could bear, I -thought, to learn that he was at the Antipodes. -"Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?" I asked, knowing, -of course, what the answer would be, but yet desirous of deferring -the direct question as to where he really was. -"No, ma'am oh, no No one is living there. I suppose you are -a stranger in these parts, or you would have heard what happened -last autumn, Thornfield Hall is quite a ruin it was burnt down -just about harvesttime. A dreadful calamity such an immense -quantity of valuable property destroyed hardly any of the furniture -could be saved. The fire broke out at dead of night, and before -the engines arrived from Millcote, the building was one mass of -flame. It was a terrible spectacle I witnessed it myself." -"At dead of night" I muttered. Yes, that was ever the hour -of fatality at Thornfield. "Was it known how it originated?" I -demanded. -"They guessed, ma'am they guessed. Indeed, I should say it was -ascertained beyond a doubt. You are not perhaps aware," he continued, -edging his chair a little nearer the table, and speaking low, "that -there was a lady a a lunatic, kept in the house?" -"I have heard something of it." -"She was kept in very close confinement, ma'am people even for -some years was not absolutely certain of her existence. No one -saw her they only knew by rumour that such a person was at the -Hall and who or what she was it was difficult to conjecture. They -said Mr. Edward had brought her from abroad, and some believed she -had been his mistress. But a queer thing happened a year since -a very queer thing." -I feared now to hear my own story. I endeavoured to recall him to -the main fact. -"And this lady?" -"This lady, ma'am," he answered, "turned out to be Mr. Rochester's -wife The discovery was brought about in the strangest way. There -was a young lady, a governess at the Hall, that Mr. Rochester fell in " -"But the fire," I suggested. -"I'm coming to that, ma'am that Mr. Edward fell in love with. -The servants say they never saw anybody so much in love as he was -he was after her continually. They used to watch him servants -will, you know, ma'am and he set store on her past everything -for all, nobody but him thought her so very handsome. She was -a little small thing, they say, almost like a child. I never saw -her myself but I've heard Leah, the housemaid, tell of her. Leah -liked her well enough. Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this -governess not twenty and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall -in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched. -Well, he would marry her." -"You shall tell me this part of the story another time," I said -"but now I have a particular reason for wishing to hear all about -the fire. Was it suspected that this lunatic, Mrs. Rochester, had -any hand in it?" -"You've hit it, ma'am it's quite certain that it was her, and -nobody but her, that set it going. She had a woman to take care -of her called Mrs. Poole an able woman in her line, and very -trustworthy, but for one fault a fault common to a deal of them -nurses and matrons she KEPT A PRIVATE BOTTLE OF GIN BY HER, -and now and then took a drop overmuch. It is excusable, for she -had a hard life of it but still it was dangerous for when Mrs. -Poole was fast asleep after the gin and water, the mad lady, who -was as cunning as a witch, would take the keys out of her pocket, -let herself out of her chamber, and go roaming about the house, -doing any wild mischief that came into her head. They say she had -nearly burnt her husband in his bed once but I don't know about -that. However, on this night, she set fire first to the hangings -of the room next her own, and then she got down to a lower storey, -and made her way to the chamber that had been the governess's -she was like as if she knew somehow how matters had gone on, and -had a spite at her and she kindled the bed there but there -was nobody sleeping in it, fortunately. The governess had run away -two months before and for all Mr. Rochester sought her as if she -had been the most precious thing he had in the world, he never -could hear a word of her and he grew savage quite savage on -his disappointment he never was a wild man, but he got dangerous -after he lost her. He would be alone, too. He sent Mrs. Fairfax, -the housekeeper, away to her friends at a distance but he did it -handsomely, for he settled an annuity on her for life and she -deserved it she was a very good woman. Miss Adele, a ward he -had, was put to school. He broke off acquaintance with all the -gentry, and shut himself up like a hermit at the Hall." -"What did he not leave England?" -"Leave England? Bless you, no He would not cross the doorstones -of the house, except at night, when he walked just like a ghost -about the grounds and in the orchard as if he had lost his senses -which it is my opinion he had for a more spirited, bolder, keener -gentleman than he was before that midge of a governess crossed him, -you never saw, ma'am. He was not a man given to wine, or cards, -or racing, as some are, and he was not so very handsome but he -had a courage and a will of his own, if ever man had. I knew him -from a boy, you see and for my part, I have often wished that -Miss Eyre had been sunk in the sea before she came to Thornfield -Hall." -"Then Mr. Rochester was at home when the fire broke out?" -"Yes, indeed was he and he went up to the attics when all was -burning above and below, and got the servants out of their beds -and helped them down himself, and went back to get his mad wife out -of her cell. And then they called out to him that she was on the -roof, where she was standing, waving her arms, above the battlements, -and shouting out till they could hear her a mile off I saw her -and heard her with my own eyes. She was a big woman, and had long -black hair we could see it streaming against the flames as she -stood. I witnessed, and several more witnessed, Mr. Rochester ascend -through the skylight on to the roof we heard him call 'Bertha' -We saw him approach her and then, ma'am, she yelled and gave a -spring, and the next minute she lay smashed on the pavement." -"Dead?" -"Dead Ay, dead as the stones on which her brains and blood were -scattered." -"Good God" -"You may well say so, ma'am it was frightful" -He shuddered. -"And afterwards?" I urged. -"Well, ma'am, afterwards the house was burnt to the ground there -are only some bits of walls standing now." -"Were any other lives lost?" -"No perhaps it would have been better if there had." -"What do you mean?" -"Poor Mr. Edward" he ejaculated, "I little thought ever to have -seen it Some say it was a just judgment on him for keeping his -first marriage secret, and wanting to take another wife while he -had one living but I pity him, for my part." -"You said he was alive?" I exclaimed. -"Yes, yes he is alive but many think he had better he dead." -"Why? How?" My blood was again running cold. "Where is he?" I -demanded. "Is he in England?" -"Ay ay he's in England he can't get out of England, I fancy -he's a fixture now." -What agony was this And the man seemed resolved to protract it. -"He is stoneblind," he said at last. "Yes, he is stoneblind, is -Mr. Edward." -I had dreaded worse. I had dreaded he was mad. I summoned strength -to ask what had caused this calamity. -"It was all his own courage, and a body may say, his kindness, -in a way, ma'am he wouldn't leave the house till every one else -was out before him. As he came down the great staircase at last, -after Mrs. Rochester had flung herself from the battlements, there -was a great crash all fell. He was taken out from under the -ruins, alive, but sadly hurt a beam had fallen in such a way as -to protect him partly but one eye was knocked out, and one hand so -crushed that Mr. Carter, the surgeon, had to amputate it directly. -The other eye inflamed he lost the sight of that also. He is -now helpless, indeed blind and a cripple." -"Where is he? Where does he now live?" -"At Ferndean, a manorhouse on a farm he has, about thirty miles -off quite a desolate spot." -"Who is with him?" -"Old John and his wife he would have none else. He is quite -broken down, they say." -"Have you any sort of conveyance?" -"We have a chaise, ma'am, a very handsome chaise." -"Let it be got ready instantly and if your postboy can drive me -to Ferndean before dark this day, I'll pay both you and him twice -the hire you usually demand." -CHAPTER XXXVII -The manorhouse of Ferndean was a building of considerable antiquity, -moderate size, and no architectural pretensions, deep buried in -a wood. I had heard of it before. Mr. Rochester often spoke of -it, and sometimes went there. His father had purchased the estate -for the sake of the game covers. He would have let the house, but -could find no tenant, in consequence of its ineligible and insalubrious -site. Ferndean then remained uninhabited and unfurnished, with the -exception of some two or three rooms fitted up for the accommodation -of the squire when he went there in the season to shoot. -To this house I came just ere dark on an evening marked by the -characteristics of sad sky, cold gale, and continued small penetrating -rain. The last mile I performed on foot, having dismissed the -chaise and driver with the double remuneration I had promised. Even -when within a very short distance of the manorhouse, you could -see nothing of it, so thick and dark grew the timber of the gloomy -wood about it. Iron gates between granite pillars showed me where -to enter, and passing through them, I found myself at once in the -twilight of closeranked trees. There was a grassgrown track -descending the forest aisle between hoar and knotty shafts and -under branched arches. I followed it, expecting soon to reach the -dwelling but it stretched on and on, it would far and farther -no sign of habitation or grounds was visible. -I thought I had taken a wrong direction and lost my way. The -darkness of natural as well as of sylvan dusk gathered over me. I -looked round in search of another road. There was none all was -interwoven stem, columnar trunk, dense summer foliage no opening -anywhere. -I proceeded at last my way opened, the trees thinned a little -presently I beheld a railing, then the house scarce, by this -dim light, distinguishable from the trees so dank and green were -its decaying walls. Entering a portal, fastened only by a latch, -I stood amidst a space of enclosed ground, from which the wood swept -away in a semicircle. There were no flowers, no gardenbeds only -a broad gravelwalk girdling a grassplat, and this set in the -heavy frame of the forest. The house presented two pointed gables -in its front the windows were latticed and narrow the front -door was narrow too, one step led up to it. The whole looked, as -the host of the Rochester Arms had said, "quite a desolate spot." -It was as still as a church on a weekday the pattering rain on -the forest leaves was the only sound audible in its vicinage. -"Can there be life here?" I asked. -Yes, life of some kind there was for I heard a movement that -narrow frontdoor was unclosing, and some shape was about to issue -from the grange. -It opened slowly a figure came out into the twilight and stood -on the step a man without a hat he stretched forth his hand as -if to feel whether it rained. Dusk as it was, I had recognised -him it was my master, Edward Fairfax Rochester, and no other. -I stayed my step, almost my breath, and stood to watch him to -examine him, myself unseen, and alas to him invisible. It was -a sudden meeting, and one in which rapture was kept well in check -by pain. I had no difficulty in restraining my voice from exclamation, -my step from hasty advance. -His form was of the same strong and stalwart contour as ever his -port was still erect, his hair was still raven black nor were his -features altered or sunk not in one year's space, by any sorrow, -could his athletic strength be quelled or his vigorous prime blighted. -But in his countenance I saw a change that looked desperate and -brooding that reminded me of some wronged and fettered wild -beast or bird, dangerous to approach in his sullen woe. The caged -eagle, whose goldringed eyes cruelty has extinguished, might look -as looked that sightless Samson. -And, reader, do you think I feared him in his blind ferocity? -if you do, you little know me. A soft hope blest with my sorrow -that soon I should dare to drop a kiss on that brow of rock, and -on those lips so sternly sealed beneath it but not yet. I would -not accost him yet. -He descended the one step, and advanced slowly and gropingly towards -the grassplat. Where was his daring stride now? Then he paused, -as if he knew not which way to turn. He lifted his hand and opened -his eyelids gazed blank, and with a straining effort, on the sky, -and toward the amphitheatre of trees one saw that all to him -was void darkness. He stretched his right hand the left arm, the -mutilated one, he kept hidden in his bosom he seemed to wish by -touch to gain an idea of what lay around him he met but vacancy -still for the trees were some yards off where he stood. He -relinquished the endeavour, folded his arms, and stood quiet and -mute in the rain, now falling fast on his uncovered head. At this -moment John approached him from some quarter. -"Will you take my arm, sir?" he said "there is a heavy shower -coming on had you not better go in?" -"Let me alone," was the answer. -John withdrew without having observed me. Mr. Rochester now tried -to walk about vainly, all was too uncertain. He groped his -way back to the house, and, reentering it, closed the door. -I now drew near and knocked John's wife opened for me. "Mary," -I said, "how are you?" -She started as if she had seen a ghost I calmed her. To her -hurried "Is it really you, miss, come at this late hour to this -lonely place?" I answered by taking her hand and then I followed -her into the kitchen, where John now sat by a good fire. I explained -to them, in few words, that I had heard all which had happened since -I left Thornfield, and that I was come to see Mr. Rochester. I -asked John to go down to the turnpikehouse, where I had dismissed -the chaise, and bring my trunk, which I had left there and -then, while I removed my bonnet and shawl, I questioned Mary as to -whether I could be accommodated at the Manor House for the night -and finding that arrangements to that effect, though difficult, -would not be impossible, I informed her I should stay. Just at -this moment the parlourbell rang. -"When you go in," said I, "tell your master that a person wishes -to speak to him, but do not give my name." -"I don't think he will see you," she answered "he refuses everybody." -When she returned, I inquired what he had said. "You are to send -in your name and your business," she replied. She then proceeded -to fill a glass with water, and place it on a tray, together with -candles. -"Is that what he rang for?" I asked. -"Yes he always has candles brought in at dark, though he is -blind." -"Give the tray to me I will carry it in." -I took it from her hand she pointed me out the parlour door. The -tray shook as I held it the water spilt from the glass my heart -struck my ribs loud and fast. Mary opened the door for me, and -shut it behind me. -This parlour looked gloomy a neglected handful of fire burnt low -in the grate and, leaning over it, with his head supported against -the high, oldfashioned mantelpiece, appeared the blind tenant -of the room. His old dog, Pilot, lay on one side, removed out of -the way, and coiled up as if afraid of being inadvertently trodden -upon. Pilot pricked up his ears when I came in then he jumped -up with a yelp and a whine, and bounded towards me he almost -knocked the tray from my hands. I set it on the table then patted -him, and said softly, "Lie down" Mr. Rochester turned mechanically -to SEE what the commotion was but as he SAW nothing, he returned -and sighed. -"Give me the water, Mary," he said. -I approached him with the now only halffilled glass Pilot followed -me, still excited. -"What is the matter?" he inquired. -"Down, Pilot" I again said. He checked the water on its way to -his lips, and seemed to listen he drank, and put the glass down. -"This is you, Mary, is it not?" -"Mary is in the kitchen," I answered. -He put out his hand with a quick gesture, but not seeing where -I stood, he did not touch me. "Who is this? Who is this?" he -demanded, trying, as it seemed, to SEE with those sightless eyes -unavailing and distressing attempt "Answer me speak again" -he ordered, imperiously and aloud. -"Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilt half of what was -in the glass," I said. -"WHO is it? WHAT is it? Who speaks?" -"Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here. I came only -this evening," I answered. -"Great God what delusion has come over me? What sweet madness -has seized me?" -"No delusion no madness your mind, sir, is too strong for -delusion, your health too sound for frenzy." -"And where is the speaker? Is it only a voice? Oh I CANNOT -see, but I must feel, or my heart will stop and my brain burst. -Whatever whoever you are be perceptible to the touch or I -cannot live" -He groped I arrested his wandering hand, and prisoned it in both -mine. -"Her very fingers" he cried "her small, slight fingers If so -there must be more of her." -The muscular hand broke from my custody my arm was seized, my -shoulder neck waist I was entwined and gathered to him. -"Is it Jane? WHAT is it? This is her shape this is her size " -"And this her voice," I added. "She is all here her heart, too. -God bless you, sir I am glad to be so near you again." -"Jane Eyre Jane Eyre," was all he said. -"My dear master," I answered, "I am Jane Eyre I have found you -out I am come back to you." -"In truth? in the flesh? My living Jane?" -"You touch me, sir, you hold me, and fast enough I am not cold -like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?" -"My living darling These are certainly her limbs, and these her -features but I cannot be so blest, after all my misery. It is a -dream such dreams as I have had at night when I have clasped her -once more to my heart, as I do now and kissed her, as thus and -felt that she loved me, and trusted that she would not leave me." -"Which I never will, sir, from this day." -"Never will, says the vision? But I always woke and found it an -empty mockery and I was desolate and abandoned my life dark, -lonely, hopeless my soul athirst and forbidden to drink my -heart famished and never to be fed. Gentle, soft dream, nestling -in my arms now, you will fly, too, as your sisters have all fled -before you but kiss me before you go embrace me, Jane." -"There, sir and there"' -I pressed my lips to his once brilliant and now rayless eyes -I swept his hair from his brow, and kissed that too. He suddenly -seemed to arouse himself the conviction of the reality of all -this seized him. -"It is you is it, Jane? You are come back to me then?" -"I am." -"And you do not lie dead in some ditch under some stream? And you -are not a pining outcast amongst strangers?" -"No, sir I am an independent woman now." -"Independent What do you mean, Jane?" -"My uncle in Madeira is dead, and he left me five thousand pounds." -"Ah this is practical this is real" he cried "I should -never dream that. Besides, there is that peculiar voice of hers, -so animating and piquant, as well as soft it cheers my withered -heart it puts life into it. What, Janet Are you an independent -woman? A rich woman?" -"If you won't let me live with you, I can build a house of my own -close up to your door, and you may come and sit in my parlour when -you want company of an evening." -"But as you are rich, Jane, you have now, no doubt, friends who -will look after you, and not suffer you to devote yourself to a -blind lameter like me?" -"I told you I am independent, sir, as well as rich I am my own -mistress." -"And you will stay with me?" -"Certainly unless you object. I will be your neighbour, -your nurse, your housekeeper. I find you lonely I will be your -companion to read to you, to walk with you, to sit with you, -to wait on you, to be eyes and hands to you. Cease to look so -melancholy, my dear master you shall not be left desolate, so long -as I live." -He replied not he seemed serious abstracted he sighed -he halfopened his lips as if to speak he closed them again. I -felt a little embarrassed. Perhaps I had too rashly overleaped -conventionalities and he, like St. John, saw impropriety in my -inconsiderateness. I had indeed made my proposal from the idea -that he wished and would ask me to be his wife an expectation, -not the less certain because unexpressed, had buoyed me up, that -he would claim me at once as his own. But no hint to that effect -escaping him and his countenance becoming more overcast, I suddenly -remembered that I might have been all wrong, and was perhaps playing -the fool unwittingly and I began gently to withdraw myself from -his arms but he eagerly snatched me closer. -"No no Jane you must not go. No I have touched you, -heard you, felt the comfort of your presence the sweetness of -your consolation I cannot give up these joys. I have little left -in myself I must have you. The world may laugh may call me -absurd, selfish but it does not signify. My very soul demands -you it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on -its frame." -"Well, sir, I will stay with you I have said so." -"Yes but you understand one thing by staying with me and I -understand another. You, perhaps, could make up your mind to be -about my hand and chair to wait on me as a kind little nurse -for you have an affectionate heart and a generous spirit, which -prompt you to make sacrifices for those you pity, and that ought -to suffice for me no doubt. I suppose I should now entertain none -but fatherly feelings for you do you think so? Come tell me." -"I will think what you like, sir I am content to be only your -nurse, if you think it better." -"But you cannot always be my nurse, Janet you are young you -must marry one day." -"I don't care about being married." -"You should care, Janet if I were what I once was, I would try -to make you care but a sightless block" -He relapsed again into gloom. I, on the contrary, became more -cheerful, and took fresh courage these last words gave me an -insight as to where the difficulty lay and as it was no difficulty -with me, I felt quite relieved from my previous embarrassment. I -resumed a livelier vein of conversation. -"It is time some one undertook to rehumanise you," said I, parting -his thick and long uncut locks "for I see you are being metamorphosed -into a lion, or something of that sort. You have a 'faux air' of -Nebuchadnezzar in the fields about you, that is certain your hair -reminds me of eagles' feathers whether your nails are grown like -birds' claws or not, I have not yet noticed." -"On this arm, I have neither hand nor nails," he said, drawing -the mutilated limb from his breast, and showing it to me. "It is -a mere stump a ghastly sight Don't you think so, Jane?" -"It is a pity to see it and a pity to see your eyes and the -scar of fire on your forehead and the worst of it is, one is in -danger of loving you too well for all this and making too much of -you." -"I thought you would be revolted, Jane, when you saw my arm, and -my cicatrised visage." -"Did you? Don't tell me so lest I should say something -disparaging to your judgment. Now, let me leave you an instant, -to make a better fire, and have the hearth swept up. Can you tell -when there is a good fire?" -"Yes with the right eye I see a glow a ruddy haze." -"And you see the candles?" -"Very dimly each is a luminous cloud." -"Can you see me?" -"No, my fairy but I am only too thankful to hear and feel you." -"When do you take supper?" -"I never take supper." -"But you shall have some tonight. I am hungry so are you, I -daresay, only you forget." -Summoning Mary, I soon had the room in more cheerful order I -prepared him, likewise, a comfortable repast. My spirits were -excited, and with pleasure and ease I talked to him during supper, -and for a long time after. There was no harassing restraint, no -repressing of glee and vivacity with him for with him I was at -perfect ease, because I knew I suited him all I said or did seemed -either to console or revive him. Delightful consciousness It -brought to life and light my whole nature in his presence I -thoroughly lived and he lived in mine. Blind as he was, smiles -played over his face, joy dawned on his forehead his lineaments -softened and warmed. -After supper, he began to ask me many questions, of where I had -been, what I had been doing, how I had found him out but I gave -him only very partial replies it was too late to enter into -particulars that night. Besides, I wished to touch no deepthrilling -chord to open no fresh well of emotion in his heart my sole -present aim was to cheer him. Cheered, as I have said, he was -and yet but by fits. If a moment's silence broke the conversation, -he would turn restless, touch me, then say, "Jane." -"You are altogether a human being, Jane? You are certain of that?" -"I conscientiously believe so, Mr. Rochester." -"Yet how, on this dark and doleful evening, could you so suddenly -rise on my lone hearth? I stretched my hand to take a glass of water -from a hireling, and it was given me by you I asked a question, -expecting John's wife to answer me, and your voice spoke at my -ear." -"Because I had come in, in Mary's stead, with the tray." -"And there is enchantment in the very hour I am now spending with -you. Who can tell what a dark, dreary, hopeless life I have dragged -on for months past? Doing nothing, expecting nothing merging night -in day feeling but the sensation of cold when I let the fire go -out, of hunger when I forgot to eat and then a ceaseless sorrow, -and, at times, a very delirium of desire to behold my Jane again. -Yes for her restoration I longed, far more than for that of my -lost sight. How can it be that Jane is with me, and says she loves -me? Will she not depart as suddenly as she came? Tomorrow, I -fear I shall find her no more." -A commonplace, practical reply, out of the train of his own -disturbed ideas, was, I was sure, the best and most reassuring for -him in this frame of mind. I passed my finger over his eyebrows, -and remarked that they were scorched, and that I would apply -something which would make them grow as broad and black as ever. -"Where is the use of doing me good in any way, beneficent spirit, -when, at some fatal moment, you will again desert me passing -like a shadow, whither and how to me unknown, and for me remaining -afterwards undiscoverable? -"Have you a pocketcomb about you, sir?" -"What for, Jane?" -"Just to comb out this shaggy black mane. I find you rather -alarming, when I examine you close at hand you talk of my being -a fairy, but I am sure, you are more like a brownie." -"Am I hideous, Jane?" -"Very, sir you always were, you know." -"Humph The wickedness has not been taken out of you, wherever -you have sojourned." -"Yet I have been with good people far better than you a hundred -times better people possessed of ideas and views you never -entertained in your life quite more refined and exalted." -"Who the deuce have you been with?" -"If you twist in that way you will make me pull the hair out of -your head and then I think you will cease to entertain doubts of -my substantiality." -"Who have you been with, Jane?" -"You shall not get it out of me tonight, sir you must wait till -tomorrow to leave my tale half told, will, you know, be a sort -of security that I shall appear at your breakfast table to finish -it. By the bye, I must mind not to rise on your hearth with only -a glass of water then I must bring an egg at the least, to say -nothing of fried ham." -"You mocking changeling fairyborn and humanbred You make me -feel as I have not felt these twelve months. If Saul could have -had you for his David, the evil spirit would have been exorcised -without the aid of the harp." -"There, sir, you are redd up and made decent. Now I'll leave you -I have been travelling these last three days, and I believe I am -tired. Good night." -"Just one word, Jane were there only ladies in the house where -you have been?" -I laughed and made my escape, still laughing as I ran upstairs. -"A good idea" I thought with glee. "I see I have the means of -fretting him out of his melancholy for some time to come." -Very early the next morning I heard him up and astir, wandering -from one room to another. As soon as Mary came down I heard the -question "Is Miss Eyre here?" Then "Which room did you put her -into? Was it dry? Is she up? Go and ask if she wants anything -and when she will come down." -I came down as soon as I thought there was a prospect of breakfast. -Entering the room very softly, I had a view of him before he -discovered my presence. It was mournful, indeed, to witness the -subjugation of that vigorous spirit to a corporeal infirmity. He -sat in his chair still, but not at rest expectant evidently -the lines of now habitual sadness marking his strong features. His -countenance reminded one of a lamp quenched, waiting to be relit -and alas it was not himself that could now kindle the lustre -of animated expression he was dependent on another for that -office I had meant to be gay and careless, but the powerlessness -of the strong man touched my heart to the quick still I accosted -him with what vivacity I could. -"It is a bright, sunny morning, sir," I said. "The rain is over -and gone, and there is a tender shining after it you shall have -a walk soon." -I had wakened the glow his features beamed. -"Oh, you are indeed there, my skylark Come to me. You are not -gone not vanished? I heard one of your kind an hour ago, singing -high over the wood but its song had no music for me, any more than -the rising sun had rays. All the melody on earth is concentrated -in my Jane's tongue to my ear I am glad it is not naturally a -silent one all the sunshine I can feel is in her presence." -The water stood in my eyes to hear this avowal of his dependence -just as if a royal eagle, chained to a perch, should be forced -to entreat a sparrow to become its purveyor. But I would not be -lachrymose I dashed off the salt drops, and busied myself with -preparing breakfast. -Most of the morning was spent in the open air. I led him out of -the wet and wild wood into some cheerful fields I described to -him how brilliantly green they were how the flowers and hedges -looked refreshed how sparklingly blue was the sky. I sought a -seat for him in a hidden and lovely spot, a dry stump of a tree -nor did I refuse to let him, when seated, place me on his knee. Why -should I, when both he and I were happier near than apart? Pilot -lay beside us all was quiet. He broke out suddenly while -clasping me in his arms -"Cruel, cruel deserter Oh, Jane, what did I feel when I discovered -you had fled from Thornfield, and when I could nowhere find you -and, after examining your apartment, ascertained that you had taken -no money, nor anything which could serve as an equivalent A pearl -necklace I had given you lay untouched in its little casket your -trunks were left corded and locked as they had been prepared for -the bridal tour. What could my darling do, I asked, left destitute -and penniless? And what did she do? Let me hear now." -Thus urged, I began the narrative of my experience for the last -year. I softened considerably what related to the three days of -wandering and starvation, because to have told him all would have -been to inflict unnecessary pain the little I did say lacerated -his faithful heart deeper than I wished. -I should not have left him thus, he said, without any means of -making my way I should have told him my intention. I should have -confided in him he would never have forced me to be his mistress. -Violent as he had seemed in his despair, he, in truth, loved me -far too well and too tenderly to constitute himself my tyrant he -would have given me half his fortune, without demanding so much as -a kiss in return, rather than I should have flung myself friendless -on the wide world. I had endured, he was certain, more than I had -confessed to him. -"Well, whatever my sufferings had been, they were very short," I -answered and then I proceeded to tell him how I had been received -at Moor House how I had obtained the office of schoolmistress, c. -The accession of fortune, the discovery of my relations, followed -in due order. Of course, St. John Rivers' name came in frequently -in the progress of my tale. When I had done, that name was -immediately taken up. -"This St. John, then, is your cousin?" -"Yes." -"You have spoken of him often do you like him?" -"He was a very good man, sir I could not help liking him." -"A good man. Does that mean a respectable wellconducted man of -fifty? Or what does it mean?" -"St John was only twentynine, sir." -"'Jeune encore,' as the French say. Is he a person of low stature, -phlegmatic, and plain. A person whose goodness consists rather in -his guiltlessness of vice, than in his prowess in virtue." -"He is untiringly active. Great and exalted deeds are what he -lives to perform." -"But his brain? That is probably rather soft? He means well but -you shrug your shoulders to hear him talk?" -"He talks little, sir what he does say is ever to the point. His -brain is firstrate, I should think not impressible, but vigorous." -"Is he an able man, then?" -"Truly able." -"A thoroughly educated man?" -"St. John is an accomplished and profound scholar." -"His manners, I think, you said are not to your taste? priggish -and parsonic?" -"I never mentioned his manners but, unless I had a very bad taste, -they must suit it they are polished, calm, and gentlemanlike." -"His appearance, I forget what description you gave of his -appearance a sort of raw curate, half strangled with his white -neckcloth, and stilted up on his thicksoled highlows, eh?" -"St. John dresses well. He is a handsome man tall, fair, with -blue eyes, and a Grecian profile." -Aside. "Damn him" To me. "Did you like him, Jane?" -"Yes, Mr. Rochester, I liked him but you asked me that before." -I perceived, of course, the drift of my interlocutor. Jealousy -had got hold of him she stung him but the sting was salutary -it gave him respite from the gnawing fang of melancholy. I would -not, therefore, immediately charm the snake. -"Perhaps you would rather not sit any longer on my knee, Miss Eyre?" -was the next somewhat unexpected observation. -"Why not, Mr. Rochester?" -"The picture you have just drawn is suggestive of a rather too -overwhelming contrast. Your words have delineated very prettily -a graceful Apollo he is present to your imagination, tall, -fair, blueeyed, and with a Grecian profile. Your eyes dwell on a -Vulcan, a real blacksmith, brown, broadshouldered and blind -and lame into the bargain." -"I never thought of it, before but you certainly are rather like -Vulcan, sir." -"Well, you can leave me, ma'am but before you go" and he retained -me by a firmer grasp than ever, "you will be pleased just to answer -me a question or two." He paused. -"What questions, Mr. Rochester?" -Then followed this crossexamination. -"St. John made you schoolmistress of Morton before he knew you were -his cousin?" -"Yes." -"You would often see him? He would visit the school sometimes?" -"Daily." -"He would approve of your plans, Jane? I know they would be clever, -for you are a talented creature" -"He approved of them yes." -"He would discover many things in you he could not have expected -to find? Some of your accomplishments are not ordinary." -"I don't know about that." -"You had a little cottage near the school, you say did he ever -come there to see you?" -"Now and then?" -"Of an evening?" -"Once or twice." -A pause. -"How long did you reside with him and his sisters after the cousinship -was discovered?" -"Five months." -"Did Rivers spend much time with the ladies of his family?" -"Yes the back parlour was both his study and ours he sat near -the window, and we by the table." -"Did he study much?" -"A good deal." -"What?" -"Hindostanee." -"And what did you do meantime?" -"I learnt German, at first." -"Did he teach you?" -"He did not understand German." -"Did he teach you nothing?" -"A little Hindostanee." -"Rivers taught you Hindostanee?" -"Yes, sir." -"And his sisters also?" -"No." -"Only you?" -"Only me." -"Did you ask to learn?" -"No." -"He wished to teach you?" -"Yes." -A second pause. -"Why did he wish it? Of what use could Hindostanee be to you?" -"He intended me to go with him to India." -"Ah here I reach the root of the matter. He wanted you to marry -him?" -"He asked me to marry him." -"That is a fiction an impudent invention to vex me." -"I beg your pardon, it is the literal truth he asked me more than -once, and was as stiff about urging his point as ever you could -be." -"Miss Eyre, I repeat it, you can leave me. How often am I to say -the same thing? Why do you remain pertinaciously perched on my -knee, when I have given you notice to quit?" -"Because I am comfortable there." -"No, Jane, you are not comfortable there, because your heart is not -with me it is with this cousin this St. John. Oh, till this -moment, I thought my little Jane was all mine I had a belief she -loved me even when she left me that was an atom of sweet in much -bitter. Long as we have been parted, hot tears as I have wept over -our separation, I never thought that while I was mourning her, she -was loving another But it is useless grieving. Jane, leave me -go and marry Rivers." -"Shake me off, then, sir, push me away, for I'll not leave you -of my own accord." -"Jane, I ever like your tone of voice it still renews hope, it -sounds so truthful. When I hear it, it carries me back a year. I -forget that you have formed a new tie. But I am not a fool go " -"Where must I go, sir?" -"Your own way with the husband you have chosen." -"Who is that?" -"You know this St. John Rivers." -"He is not my husband, nor ever will be. He does not love me I -do not love him. He loves as he CAN love, and that is not as you -love a beautiful young lady called Rosamond. He wanted to marry -me only because he thought I should make a suitable missionary's -wife, which she would not have done. He is good and great, but -severe and, for me, cold as an iceberg. He is not like you, sir -I am not happy at his side, nor near him, nor with him. He has no -indulgence for me no fondness. He sees nothing attractive in -me not even youth only a few useful mental points. Then I -must leave you, sir, to go to him?" -I shuddered involuntarily, and clung instinctively closer to my -blind but beloved master. He smiled. -"What, Jane Is this true? Is such really the state of matters -between you and Rivers?" -"Absolutely, sir Oh, you need not be jealous I wanted to tease -you a little to make you less sad I thought anger would be better -than grief. But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how -much I DO love you, you would be proud and content. All my heart -is yours, sir it belongs to you and with you it would remain, -were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence for ever." -Again, as he kissed me, painful thoughts darkened his aspect. "My -scarred vision My crippled strength" he murmured regretfully. -I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking, -and wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside -his face a minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid, -and trickle down the manly cheek. My heart swelled. -"I am no better than the old lightningstruck chestnuttree in -Thornfield orchard," he remarked ere long. "And what right would -that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with -freshness?" -"You are no ruin, sir no lightningstruck tree you are green -and vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask -them or not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow -and as they grow they will lean towards you, and wind round you, -because your strength offers them so safe a prop." -Again he smiled I gave him comfort. -"You speak of friends, Jane?" he asked. -"Yes, of friends," I answered rather hesitatingly for I knew -I meant more than friends, but could not tell what other word to -employ. He helped me. -"Ah Jane. But I want a wife." -"Do you, sir?" -"Yes is it news to you?" -"Of course you said nothing about it before." -"Is it unwelcome news?" -"That depends on circumstances, sir on your choice." -"Which you shall make for me, Jane. I will abide by your decision." -"Choose then, sir HER WHO LOVES YOU BEST." -"I will at least choose HER I LOVE BEST. Jane, will you marry -me?" -"Yes, sir." -"A poor blind man, whom you will have to lead about by the hand?" -"Yes, sir." -"A crippled man, twenty years older than you, whom you will have -to wait on?" -"Yes, sir." -"Truly, Jane?" -"Most truly, sir." -"Oh my darling God bless you and reward you" -"Mr. Rochester, if ever I did a good deed in my life if ever I -thought a good thought if ever I prayed a sincere and blameless -prayer if ever I wished a righteous wish, I am rewarded now. -To be your wife is, for me, to be as happy as I can be on earth." -"Because you delight in sacrifice." -"Sacrifice What do I sacrifice? Famine for food, expectation -for content. To be privileged to put my arms round what I value -to press my lips to what I love to repose on what I trust -is that to make a sacrifice? If so, then certainly I delight in -sacrifice." -"And to bear with my infirmities, Jane to overlook my deficiencies." -"Which are none, sir, to me. I love you better now, when I can really -be useful to you, than I did in your state of proud independence, -when you disdained every part but that of the giver and protector." -"Hitherto I have hated to be helped to be led henceforth, I -feel I shall hate it no more. I did not like to put my hand into -a hireling's, but it is pleasant to feel it circled by Jane's little -fingers. I preferred utter loneliness to the constant attendance -of servants but Jane's soft ministry will be a perpetual joy. -Jane suits me do I suit her?" -"To the finest fibre of my nature, sir." -"The case being so, we have nothing in the world to wait for we -must be married instantly." -He looked and spoke with eagerness his old impetuosity was rising. -"We must become one flesh without any delay, Jane there is but -the licence to get then we marry." -"Mr. Rochester, I have just discovered the sun is far declined from -its meridian, and Pilot is actually gone home to his dinner. Let -me look at your watch." -"Fasten it into your girdle, Janet, and keep it henceforward I -have no use for it." -"It is nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, sir. Don't you feel -hungry?" -"The third day from this must be our weddingday, Jane. Never mind -fine clothes and jewels, now all that is not worth a fillip." -"The sun has dried up all the raindrops, sir. The breeze is still -it is quite hot." -"Do you know, Jane, I have your little pearl necklace at this moment -fastened round my bronze scrag under my cravat? I have worn it -since the day I lost my only treasure, as a memento of her." -"We will go home through the wood that will be the shadiest way." -He pursued his own thoughts without heeding me. -"Jane you think me, I daresay, an irreligious dog but my heart -swells with gratitude to the beneficent God of this earth just -now. He sees not as man sees, but far clearer judges not as man -judges, but far more wisely. I did wrong I would have sullied -my innocent flower breathed guilt on its purity the Omnipotent -snatched it from me. I, in my stiffnecked rebellion, almost cursed -the dispensation instead of bending to the decree, I defied it. -Divine justice pursued its course disasters came thick on me I -was forced to pass through the valley of the shadow of death. HIS -chastisements are mighty and one smote me which has humbled me for -ever. You know I was proud of my strength but what is it now, -when I must give it over to foreign guidance, as a child does its -weakness? Of late, Jane only only of late I began to see -and acknowledge the hand of God in my doom. I began to experience -remorse, repentance the wish for reconcilement to my Maker. I -began sometimes to pray very brief prayers they were, but very -sincere. -"Some days since nay, I can number them four it was last Monday -night, a singular mood came over me one in which grief replaced -frenzy sorrow, sullenness. I had long had the impression that -since I could nowhere find you, you must be dead. Late that night -perhaps it might be between eleven and twelve o'clock ere I -retired to my dreary rest, I supplicated God, that, if it seemed -good to Him, I might soon be taken from this life, and admitted to -that world to come, where there was still hope of rejoining Jane. -"I was in my own room, and sitting by the window, which was open -it soothed me to feel the balmy nightair though I could see no -stars and only by a vague, luminous haze, knew the presence of a -moon. I longed for thee, Janet Oh, I longed for thee both with -soul and flesh I asked of God, at once in anguish and humility, -if I had not been long enough desolate, afflicted, tormented and -might not soon taste bliss and peace once more. That I merited all -I endured, I acknowledged that I could scarcely endure more, -I pleaded and the alpha and omega of my heart's wishes broke -involuntarily from my lips in the words 'Jane Jane Jane'" -"Did you speak these words aloud?" -"I did, Jane. If any listener had heard me, he would have thought -me mad I pronounced them with such frantic energy." -"And it was last Monday night, somewhere near midnight?" -"Yes but the time is of no consequence what followed is the -strange point. You will think me superstitious, some superstition -I have in my blood, and always had nevertheless, this is true -true at least it is that I heard what I now relate. -"As I exclaimed 'Jane Jane Jane' a voice I cannot tell -whence the voice came, but I know whose voice it was replied, -'I am coming wait for me' and a moment after, went whispering -on the wind the words 'Where are you?' -"I'll tell you, if I can, the idea, the picture these words opened -to my mind yet it is difficult to express what I want to express. -Ferndean is buried, as you see, in a heavy wood, where sound falls -dull, and dies unreverberating. 'Where are you?' seemed spoken -amongst mountains for I heard a hillsent echo repeat the words. -Cooler and fresher at the moment the gale seemed to visit my brow -I could have deemed that in some wild, lone scene, I and Jane were -meeting. In spirit, I believe we must have met. You no doubt -were, at that hour, in unconscious sleep, Jane perhaps your soul -wandered from its cell to comfort mine for those were your accents -as certain as I live they were yours" -Reader, it was on Monday night near midnight that I too had -received the mysterious summons those were the very words by -which I replied to it. I listened to Mr. Rochester's narrative, -but made no disclosure in return. The coincidence struck me as too -awful and inexplicable to be communicated or discussed. If I told -anything, my tale would be such as must necessarily make a profound -impression on the mind of my hearer and that mind, yet from its -sufferings too prone to gloom, needed not the deeper shade of the -supernatural. I kept these things then, and pondered them in my -heart. -"You cannot now wonder," continued my master, "that when you rose -upon me so unexpectedly last night, I had difficulty in believing -you any other than a mere voice and vision, something that would melt -to silence and annihilation, as the midnight whisper and mountain -echo had melted before. Now, I thank God I know it to be otherwise. -Yes, I thank God" -He put me off his knee, rose, and reverently lifting his hat from -his brow, and bending his sightless eyes to the earth, he stood in -mute devotion. Only the last words of the worship were audible. -"I thank my Maker, that, in the midst of judgment, he has remembered -mercy. I humbly entreat my Redeemer to give me strength to lead -henceforth a purer life than I have done hitherto" -Then he stretched his hand out to be led. I took that dear hand, -held it a moment to my lips, then let it pass round my shoulder -being so much lower of stature than he, I served both for his prop -and guide. We entered the wood, and wended homeward. -CHAPTER XXXVIII CONCLUSION -Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had he and I, the parson -and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went -into the kitchen of the manorhouse, where Mary was cooking -the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said -"Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning." The -housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic -order of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate -a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having -one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently -stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment. Mary did look up, and -she did stare at me the ladle with which she was basting a pair -of chickens roasting at the fire, did for some three minutes hang -suspended in air and for the same space of time John's knives -also had rest from the polishing process but Mary, bending -again over the roast, said only -"Have you, Miss? Well, for sure" -A short time after she pursued "I seed you go out with the -master, but I didn't know you were gone to church to be wed" and -she basted away. John, when I turned to him, was grinning from -ear to ear. -"I telled Mary how it would be," he said "I knew what Mr. Edward" -John was an old servant, and had known his master when he was -the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian -name "I knew what Mr. Edward would do and I was certain he would -not wait long neither and he's done right, for aught I know. I -wish you joy, Miss" and he politely pulled his forelock. -"Thank you, John. Mr. Rochester told me to give you and Mary -this." I put into his hand a fivepound note. Without waiting to -hear more, I left the kitchen. In passing the door of -that sanctum some time after, I caught the words -"She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies." And -again, "If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faal and -varry goodnatured and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody -may see that." -I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I -had done fully explaining also why I had thus acted. Diana and -Mary approved the step unreservedly. Diana announced that she -would just give me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she -would come and see me. -"She had better not wait till then, Jane," said Mr. Rochester, when -I read her letter to him "if she does, she will be too late, for -our honeymoon will shine our life long its beams will only fade -over your grave or mine." -How St. John received the news, I don't know he never answered -the letter in which I communicated it yet six months after he -wrote to me, without, however, mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or -alluding to my marriage. His letter was then calm, and, though very -serious, kind. He has maintained a regular, though not frequent, -correspondence ever since he hopes I am happy, and trusts I am not -of those who live without God in the world, and only mind earthly -things. -You have not quite forgotten little Adele, have you, reader? I -had not I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester, to go -and see her at the school where he had placed her. Her frantic -joy at beholding me again moved me much. She looked pale and thin -she said she was not happy. I found the rules of the establishment -were too strict, its course of study too severe for a child of her -age I took her home with me. I meant to become her governess -once more, but I soon found this impracticable my time and cares -were now required by another my husband needed them all. So I -sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent system, and near -enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing her home -sometimes. I took care she should never want for anything that -could contribute to her comfort she soon settled in her new abode, -became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. -As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great -measure her French defects and when she left school, I found in -her a pleasing and obliging companion docile, goodtempered, and -wellprincipled. By her grateful attention to me and mine, she -has long since well repaid any little kindness I ever had it in my -power to offer her. -My tale draws to its close one word respecting my experience of -married life, and one brief glance at the fortunes of those whose -names have most frequently recurred in this narrative, and I have -done. -I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live -entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself -supremely blest blest beyond what language can express because -I am my husband's life as fully is he is mine. No woman was ever -nearer to her mate than I am ever more absolutely bone of his -bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward's -society he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the -pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms consequently, -we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as -free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, -all day long to talk to each other is but a more animated and an -audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his -confidence is devoted to me we are precisely suited in character -perfect concord is the result. -Mr. Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union -perhaps it was that circumstance that drew us so very near that -knit us so very close for I was then his vision, as I am still -his right hand. Literally, I was what he often called me the -apple of his eye. He saw nature he saw books through me and -never did I weary of gazing for his behalf, and of putting into -words the effect of field, tree, town, river, cloud, sunbeam of -the landscape before us of the weather round us and impressing -by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his eye. -Never did I weary of reading to him never did I weary of conducting -him where he wished to go of doing for him what he wished to be -done. And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most -exquisite, even though sad because he claimed these services -without painful shame or damping humiliation. He loved me so truly, -that he knew no reluctance in profiting by my attendance he felt -I loved him so fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge -my sweetest wishes. -One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter -to his dictation, he came and bent over me, and said "Jane, have -you a glittering ornament round your neck?" -I had a gold watchchain I answered "Yes." -"And have you a pale blue dress on?" -I had. He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the -obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense and that now -he was sure of it. -He and I went up to London. He had the advice of an eminent oculist -and he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. He cannot -now see very distinctly he cannot read or write much but he can -find his way without being led by the hand the sky is no longer -a blank to him the earth no longer a void. When his firstborn -was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his -own eyes, as they once were large, brilliant, and black. On -that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God -had tempered judgment with mercy. -My Edward and I, then, are happy and the more so, because those -we most love are happy likewise. Diana and Mary Rivers are both -married alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and -we go to see them. Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, a -gallant officer and a good man. Mary's is a clergyman, a college -friend of her brother's, and, from his attainments and principles, -worthy of the connection. Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton -love their wives, and are loved by them. -As to St. John Rivers, he left England he went to India. He -entered on the path he had marked for himself he pursues it still. -A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks -and dangers. Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and -zeal, and truth, he labours for his race he clears their painful -way to improvement he hews down like a giant the prejudices of creed -and caste that encumber it. He may be stern he may be exacting -he may be ambitious yet but his is the sternness of the warrior -Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of -Apollyon. His is the exaction of the apostle, who speaks but for -Christ, when he says "Whosoever will come after me, let him deny -himself, and take up his cross and follow me." His is the ambition -of the high masterspirit, which aims to fill a place in the first -rank of those who are redeemed from the earth who stand without -fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories -of the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful. -St. John is unmarried he never will marry now. Himself has -hitherto sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close -his glorious sun hastens to its setting. The last letter I received -from him drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart -with divine joy he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible -crown. I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say -that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into -the joy of his Lord. And why weep for this? No fear of death -will darken St. John's last hour his mind will be unclouded, his -heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith -steadfast. His own words are a pledge of this -"My Master," he says, "has forewarned me. Daily He announces more -distinctly, 'Surely I come quickly' and hourly I more eagerly -respond, 'Amen even so come, Lord Jesus'" - END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OF JANE EYRE, BY BRONTE -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, janey.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, janeya.txt -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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Copyright C , by -Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be -used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be -they hardware or software or any other related product without -express permission.] -END THE SMALL PRINT FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKSVer.//END -Preliminary Matter. -This text of Melville's MobyDick is based on the Hendricks House edition. -It was prepared by Professor Eugene F. Irey at the University of Colorado. -Any subsequent copies of this data must include this notice -and any publications resulting from analysis of this data must -include reference to Professor Irey's work. -Etymology Supplied by a late consumptive usher to a grammar school. -The pale Usheirthreadbare in coat, heart, body, and brain I see him now. -He was ever dusting his old lexicons and grammars, with a queer handkerchief, -mockingly embellished with all the gay flags of all the known nations of the world. -He loved to dust his old grammars it somehow mildly reminded him of his mortality. -Extracts supplied by a subsublibrarian. -It will be seen that this mere painstaking burrower and grubworm of a poor -devil of a SubSub appears to have gone through the long Vaticans and -streetstalls of the earth, picking up whatever random allusions to whales -he could anyways find in any book whatsoever, sacred or profane. -Therefore you must not, in every case at least, take the higgledypiggledy -whale statements, however authentic, in these extracts, for veritable gospel -cetology. Far from it. As touching the ancient authors generally, as well -as the poets here appearing, these extracts are solely valuable or entertaining, -as affording a glancing bird's eye view of what has been promiscuously said, -thought, fancied, and sung of Leviathan, by many nations and generations, -including our own. -So fare thee well, poor devil of a SubSub, whose commentator I am. -Thou belongest to that hopeless, sallow tribe which no wine of this world will -ever warm and for whom even Pale Sherry would be too rosystrong -but with whom one sometimes loves to sit, and feel poordevilish, too -and grow convivial upon tears and say to them bluntly, with full eyes and empty -glasses, and in not altogether unpleasant sadness igive it up, subsubs -For by how much the more pains ye take to please the world, -by so much the more shall ye for ever go thankless -Would that I could clear out Hampton Court and the Tuileries for ye But -gulp down your tears and hie aloft to the royalmast with your hearts for -your friends who have gone before are clearing out the sevenstoried heavens, -and making refugees of longpampered Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, against -your coming. Here ye strike but splintered hearts together ithere, ye shall -strike unsplinterable -Call me Ishmael. Some years agonever mind how -long precisely having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular -to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the -watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and -regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the -mouth whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul whenever I find -myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the -rear of every funeral I meet and especially whenever my hypos get such an -upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me -from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking -people's hats offthen, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. -This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish -Cato throws himself upon his sword I quietly take to the ship. There is -nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their -degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the -ocean with me. There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round -by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefscommerce surrounds it with her surf. -Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is -the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by -breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the -crowds of watergazers there. Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath -afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by -Whitehall northward. What do you see?Posted like silent sentinels all -around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean -reveries. Some leaning against the spiles some seated upon the pierheads -some looking over the bulwarks glasses -of ships from China some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a -still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen of week days pent up -in lath and plastertied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. -How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here? But look -here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for -a dive. Strange Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the -land loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. -No. They must get just as nigh the water as they possibly can without falling -in. And there they standmiles of themleagues. Inlanders all, they come -from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues, north, east, south, and west. -Yet here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of -the compasses of all those ships attract them thither? Once more. Say, you -are in the country in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you -please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there -by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absentminded -of men be plunged in his deepest reveriesstand that man on his legs, set his -feet agoing, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in -all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, -try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical -professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded for ever. -But here is an artist. He desires to paint you the dreamiest, shadiest, -quietest, most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all the valley of the -Saco. What is the chief element he employs? There stand his trees, each with -a hollow trunk, as if a hermit and a crucifix were within and here sleeps -his meadow, and there sleep his cattle and up from yonder cottage goes a -sleepy smoke. Deep into distant woodlands winds a mazy way, reaching to -overlapping spurs of mountains bathed in their hillside blue. But though -the picture lies thus tranced, and though this pinetree shakes down its sighs -like leaves upon this shepherd's head, yet all were vain, unless the -shepherd's eye were fixed upon the magic stream before him. Go visit the -Prairies in June, -when for scores on scores of miles you wade kneedeep among Tigerlilieswhat -is the one charm wanting? Water there is not a drop of water there Were -Niagara but a cataract of sand, would you travel your thousand miles to see -it? Why did the poor poet of Tennessee, upon suddenly receiving two handfuls -of silver, deliberate whether to buy him a coat, which he sadly needed, or -invest his money in a pedestrian trip to Rockaway Beach? Why is almost every -robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other -crazy to go to sea? Why upon your first voyage as a passenger, did you -yourself feel such a mystical vibration, when first told that you and your -ship were now out of sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea -holy? Why did the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? -Surely all this is not without meaning. And still deeper the meaning of that -story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image -he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same -image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the -ungraspable phantom of life and this is the key to it all. Now, when I say -that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I begin to grow hazy about the -eyes, and begin to be over conscious of my lungs, I do not mean to have it -inferred that I ever go to sea as a passenger. For to go as a passenger you -must needs have a purse, and a purse is but a rag unless you have something -in it. Besides, passengers get seasick grow quarrelsome don't sleep of -nights do not enjoy themselves much, as a general thing no, I never go as a -passenger nor, though I am something of a salt, do I ever go to sea as a -Commodore, or a Captain, or a Cook. I abandon the glory and distinction of -such offices to those who like them. For my part, I abominate all honorable -respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever. It is -quite as much as I can do to take care of myself, without taking care of -ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not. And as for going as cook, -though I confess there is considerable glory in that, a cook being a sort of -officer on shipboard yet, somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls though -once broiled, judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, -there is no one who will -speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of a broiled fowl than I -will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of the old Egyptians upon broiled -ibis and roasted river horse, that you see the mummies of those creatures in -their huge bakehouses the pyramids. No, when I go to sea, I go as a simple -sailor, right before the mast, plumb down into the forecastle, aloft there -to the royal masthead. True, they rather order me about some, and make me -jump from spar to spar, like a grasshopper in a May meadow. And at first, -this sort of thing is unpleasant enough. It touches one's sense of honor, -particularly if you come of an old established family in the land, the van -Rensselaers, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes. And more than all, if just -previous to putting your hand into the tarpot, you have been lording it as a -country schoolmaster, making the tallest boys stand in awe of you. The -transition is a keen one, I assure you, from the schoolmaster to a sailor, -and requires a strong decoction of Seneca and the Stoics to enable you to grin -and bear it. But even this wears off in time. What of it, if some old hunks -of a seacaptain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does -that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the New -Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, -because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular -instance? Who aint a slave? Tell me that. Well, then, however the old -seacaptains may order me abouthowever they may thump and punch me about, I -have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right that everybody else -is one way or other served in much the same way either in a physical or -metaphysical point of view, that is and so the universal thump is passed -round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulderblades, and be -content. Again, I always go to sea as a sailor, because they make a point of -paying me for my trouble, whereas they never pay passengers a single penny -that I ever heard of. On the contrary, passengers themselves must pay. And -there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The -act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two -orchard -thieves entailed upon us. But being paid, what will compare with it? The -urbane activity with which a man receives money is really marvellous, -considering that we so earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly -ills, and that on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah how -cheerfully we consign ourselves to perdition Finally, I always go to sea as -a sailor, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the forecastle -deck. For as in this world, head winds are far more prevalent than winds -from astern that is, if you never violate the Pythagorean maxim, so for -the most part the Commodore on the quarterdeck gets his atmosphere at second -hand from the sailors on the forecastle. He thinks he breathes it first but -not so. In much the same way do the commonalty lead their leaders in many -other things, at the same time that the leaders little suspect it. But -wherefore it was that after having repeatedly smelt the sea as a merchant -sailor, I should now take it into my head to go on a whaling voyage this -the invisible police officer of the Fates, who has the constant surveillance -of me, and secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way he -can better answer than any one else. And, doubtless, my going on this whaling -voyage, formed part of the grand programme of Providence that was drawn up a -long time ago. It came in as a sort of brief interlude and solo between more -extensive performances. I take it that this part of the bill must have run -something like this Grand Contested Election for the Presidency of the -United States. Whaling Voyage by one Ishmael. Bloody Battle in -Affghanistan. Though I cannot tell why it was exactly that those stage -managers, the Fates, put me down for this shabby part of a whaling voyage, -when others were set down for magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short -and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces though I -cannot tell why this was exactly yet, now that I recall all the -circumstances, I think I can see a little into the springs and motives which -being cunningly presented to me under various disguises, induced me to set -about -performing the part I did, besides cajoling me into the delusion that it was -a choice resulting from my own unbiased freewill and discriminating judgment. -chief among these motives was the overwhelming idea of the great whale -himself. Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. -Then the wild and distant seas where he rolled his island bulk the -undeliverable, nameless perils of the whale these, with all the attending -marvels of a thousand Patagonian sights and sounds, helped to sway me to my -wish. With other men, perhaps, such things would not have been inducements -but as for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I -love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts. Not ignoring what -is good, I am quick to perceive a horror, and could still be social with -itwould they let me since it is but well to be on friendly terms with all -the inmates of the place one lodges in. By reason of these things, then, the -whaling voyage was welcome the great floodgates of the wonderworld swung -open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two -there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid -most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air. -Returning to the SpouterInn from the -Chapel, I found Queequeg there quite alone he having left the Chapel before -the benediction some time. He was sitting on a bench before the fire, with -his feet on the stove hearth, and in one hand was holding close up to his -face that little negro idol of his peering hard into its face, and with a -jackknife gently whittling away at its nose, meanwhile humming to himself in -his heathenish way. But being now interrupted, he put up the image and -pretty -soon, going to the table, took up a large book there, and placing it on his -lap began counting the pages with deliberate regularity at every fiftieth -page as I fancied stopping a moment, looking vacantly around him, and -giving utterance to a longdrawn gurgling whistle of astonishment. He would -then begin again at the next fifty seeming to commence at number one each -time, as though he could not count more than fifty, and it was only by such -a large number of fifties being found together, that his astonishment at the -multitude of pages was excited. With much interest I sat watching him. Savage -though he was, and hideously marred about the face at least to my taste -his countenance yet had a something in it which was by no means disagreeable. -You cannot hide the soul. Through all his unearthly tattooings, I thought I -saw the traces of a simple honest heart and in his large, deep eyes, fiery -black and bold, there seemed tokens of a spirit that would dare a thousand -devils. And besides all this, there was a certain lofty bearing about the -Pagan, which even his uncouthness could not altogether maim. He looked like -a man who had never cringed and never had had a creditor. Whether it was, -too, that his head being shaved, his forehead was drawn out in freer and -brighter relief, and looked more expansive than it otherwise would, this I -will not venture to decide but certain it was his head was phrenologically -an excellent one. It may seem ridiculous, but it reminded me of General -Washington's head, as seen in the popular busts of him. It had the same long -regularly graded retreating slope from above the brows, which were likewise -very projecting, like two long promontories thickly wooded on top. Queequeg -was George Washington cannibalistically developed. Whilst I was thus closely -scanning him, halfpretending meanwhile to be looking out at the storm from -the casement, he never heeded my presence, never troubled himself with so -much as a single glance but appeared wholly occupied with counting the -pages of the marvellous book. Considering how sociably we had been sleeping -together the night previous, and especially considering the affectionate arm -I had found thrown over me upon waking in the morning, I thought this -indifference of his -very strange. But savages are strange beings at times you do not know -exactly how to take them. At first they are overawing their calm -selfcollectedness of simplicity seems a Socratic wisdom. I had noticed also -that Queequeg never consorted at all, or but very little, with the other -seamen in the inn. He made no advances whatever appeared to have no desire -to enlarge the circle of his acquaintances. All this struck me as mighty -singular yet, upon second thoughts, there was something almost sublime in -it. Here was a man some twenty thousand miles from home, by the way of Cape -Horn, that is which was the only way he could get there thrown among people -as strange to him as though he were in the planet Jupiter and yet he seemed -entirely at his ease preserving the utmost serenity content with his own -companionship always equal to himself. Surely this was a touch of fine -philosophy though no doubt he had never heard there was such a thing as -that. But, perhaps, to be true philosophers, we mortals should not be -conscious of so living or so striving. So soon as I hear that such or such a -man gives himself out for a philosopher, I conclude that, like the dyspeptic -old woman, he must have broken his digester. As I sat there in that now -lonely room the fire burning low, in that mild stage when, after its first -intensity has warmed the air, it then only glows to be looked at the -evening shades and phantoms gathering round the casements, and peering in -upon us silent, solitary twain the storm booming without in solemn swells -I began to be sensible of strange feelings. I felt a melting in me. No -more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish -world. This soothing savage had redeemed it. There he sat, his very -indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies -and bland deceits. Wild he was a very sight of sights to see yet I began -to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him. And those same things that -would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew -me. I'll try a pagan friend, thought I, since Christian kindness has proved -but hollow courtesy. I drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs -and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile. At first he little -noticed these advances but presently, upon my referring to his last -night's hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be -bedfellows. I told him yes whereat I thought he looked pleased, perhaps a -little complimented. We then turned over the book together, and I endeavored -to explain to him the purpose of the printing, and the meaning of the few -pictures that were in it. Thus I soon engaged his interest and from that we -went to jabbering the best we could about the various outer sights to be seen -in this famous town. Soon I proposed a social smoke and, producing his pouch -and tomahawk, he quietly offered me a puff. And then we sat exchanging puffs -from that wild pipe of his, and keeping it regularly passing between us. If -there yet lurked any ice of indifference towards me in the Pagan's breast, -this pleasant, genial smoke we had, soon thawed it out, and left us cronies. -He seemed to take to me quite as naturally and unbiddenly as I to him and -when our smoke was over, he pressed his forehead against mine, clasped me -round the waist, and said that henceforth we were married meaning, in his -country's phrase, that we were bosom friends he would gladly die for me, if -need should be. In a countryman, this sudden flame of friendship would have -seemed far too premature, a thing to be much distrusted but in this simple -savage those old rules would not apply. After supper, and another social chat -and smoke, we went to our room together. He made me a present of his -embalmed head took out his enormous tobacco wallet, and groping under the -tobacco, drew out some thirty dollars in silver then spreading them on the -table, and mechanically dividing them into two equal portions, pushed one of -them towards me, and said it was mine. I was going to remonstrate but he -silenced me by pouring them into my trowsers' pockets. I let them stay. He -then went about his evening prayers, took out his idol, and removed the -paper fireboard. By certain signs and symptoms, I thought he seemed anxious -for me to join him but well knowing what was to follow, I deliberated a -moment whether, in case he invited me, I would comply or otherwise. I was a -good Christian born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian -Church. How then could I unite with -this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood? But what is worship? -thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven -and earth pagans and all included can possibly be jealous of an -insignificant bit of black wood? Impossible But what is worship? to do the -will of God that is worship. And what is the will of God? to do to my -fellow man what I would have my fellow man to do to me that is the will of -God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow man. And what do I wish that this Queequeg -would do to me? Why, unite with me in my particular Presbyterian form of -worship. consequently, i must then unite with him in his ergo, I must turn -idolator. So I kindled the shavings helped prop up the innocent little -idol offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg salamed before him twice or -thrice kissed his nose and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at -peace with our own consciences and all the world. But we did not go to sleep -without some little chat. How it is I know not but there is no place like a -bed for confidential disclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, -there open the very bottom of their souls to each other and some old couples -often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our -hearts' honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg a cosy, loving pair. -ENDERBY, OF LONDON Ship, ahoy Hast seen the White Whale? So cried Ahab, -once more hailing a ship showing English colors, bearing down under the -stern. Trumpet to mouth, the old man was standing in his hoisted -quarterboat, his ivory leg plainly revealed to the stranger captain, who -was carelessly reclining in his own boat's bow. He was a darklytanned, -burly, goodnatured, finelooking man, of sixty or thereabouts, dressed in -a spacious roundabout, that hung round him in festoons of blue pilotcloth -and one empty arm of this jacket streamed behind him like the broidered arm of -a huzzar's surcoat. Hast seen the White Whale? See you this? and -withdrawing it from the fold that had hidden it, he held up a white arm of -sperm whale bone, terminating in a wooden head like a mallet. Man my boat -cried Ahab, impetuously, and tossing about the oars near him Stand by to -lower In less than a minute, without quitting his little craft, he and -his crew were dropped to the water, and were soon alongside of the stranger. -But here a curious difficulty presented itself. In the excitement of the -moment, Ahab had forgotten that since the loss of his leg he had never once -stepped on board of any vessel at sea but his own, and then it was always by -an ingenious and very handy mechanical contrivance peculiar to the Pequod, -and a thing not to be rigged and shipped in any other vessel at a moment's -warning. Now, it is no very easy matter for anybody except those who are -almost hourly used to it, like whalemen to clamber up a ship's side from a -boat on the open sea for the great swells now lift the boat high up towards -the bulwarks, and then instantaneously drop it half way down to the kelson. -so, deprived of one leg, and the strange ship of course being altogether -unsupplied with the kindly invention, Ahab now found himself abjectly reduced -to a clumsy landsman again hopelessly eyeing the uncertain changeful height -he could hardly hope to attain. It has before been hinted, perhaps, that -every little untoward circumstance that befel him, and which indirectly -sprang from his luckless mishap, almost invariably irritated or exasperated -Ahab. And in the present instance, all this was heightened by the sight of -the two officers of the strange ship, leaning over the side, by the -perpendicular ladder of nailed cleets there, and swinging towards him a pair -of tastefullyornamented manropes for at first they did not seem to bethink -them that a onelegged man must be too much of a cripple to use their sea -bannisters. But this awkwardness only lasted a minute, because the strange -captain, observing at a glance how affairs stood, cried out, I see, I see -avast heaving there Jump, boys, and swing over the cuttingtackle. As -good luck would have it, they had had a whale alongside a day or two -previous, and the great tackles were still aloft, and the massive curved -blubberhook, now clean and dry, was still attached to the end. This was -quickly lowered to Ahab, who at once comprehending it all, slid his solitary -thigh into the curve of the hook it was like sitting in the fluke of an -anchor, or the crotch of an apple tree, and then giving the word, held -himself fast, and at the same time also helped to hoist his own weight, by -pulling handoverhand upon one of the running parts of the tackle. Soon he -was carefully swung inside the high bulwarks, and gently landed upon the -capstan head. With his ivory arm frankly thrust forth in welcome, the other -captain advanced, and Ahab, putting out his ivory leg, and crossing the ivory -arm like two swordfish blades cried out in his walrus way, Aye, aye, -hearty let us shake bones together an arm and a leg an arm that never -can shrink, d'ye see and a leg that never can run. Where did'st thou see -the White Whale? how long ago? The White Whale, said the Englishman, -pointing his ivory -arm towards the East, and taking a rueful sight along it, as if it had been a -telescope There I saw him, on the Line, last season. And he took that -arm off, did he? asked Ahab, now sliding down from the capstan, and resting -on the Englishman's shoulder, as he did so. Aye, he was the cause of it, at -least and that leg, too? Spin me the yarn, said Ahab how was it? It -was the first time in my life that I ever cruised on the Line, began the -Englishman. I was ignorant of the White Whale at that time. Well, one day -we lowered for a pod of four or five whales, and my boat fastened to one of -them a regular circus horse he was, too, that went milling and milling -round so, that my boat's crew could only trim dish, by sitting all their -sterns on the outer gunwale. Presently up breaches from the bottom of the sea -a bouncing great whale, with a milkywhite head and hump, all crows' feet and -wrinkles. It was he, it was he cried Ahab, suddenly letting out his -suspended breath. And harpoons sticking in near his starboard fin. Aye, -aye they were mine my irons, cried Ahab, exultingly but on Give me a -chance, then, said the Englishman, goodhumoredly. Well, this old -greatgrandfather, with the white head and hump, runs all afoam into the pod, -and goes to snapping furiously at my fastline. Aye, I see wanted to part -it free the fastfish an old trick I know him. How it was exactly, -continued the onearmed commander, I do not know but in biting the line, it -got foul of his teeth, caught there somehow but we didn't know it then so -that when we afterwards pulled on the line, bounce we came plump on to his -hump instead of the other whale's that went off to windward, all fluking. -Seeing how matters stood, and what a noble great whale it was the noblest -and biggest I ever saw, sir, in my life I resolved to capture him, spite of -the boiling rage he seemed to be in. And thinking the haphazard line would -get loose, or the tooth it was tangled to might draw for I have -a devil of a boat's crew for a pull on a whaleline seeing all this, I say, -I jumped into my first mate's boat Mr. Mounttop's here by the way, Captain -Mounttop Mounttopthe captain as I was saying, I jumped into Mounttop's -boat, which, d'ye see, was gunwale and gunwale with mine, then and snatching -the first harpoon, let this old greatgrandfather have it. But, Lord, look -you, sir hearts and souls alive, man the next instant, in a jiff, I was -blind as a bat both eyes out all befogged and bedeadened with black foam -the whale's tail looming straight up out of it, perpendicular in the air, -like a marble steeple. No use sterning all, then but as I was groping at -midday, with a blinding sun, all crownjewels as I was groping, I say, -after the second iron, to toss it overboard down comes the tail like a Lima -tower, cutting my boat in two, leaving each half in splinters and, flukes -first, the white hump backed through the wreck, as though it was all chips. -We all struck out. To escape his terrible flailings, I seized hold of my -harpoonpole sticking in him, and for a moment clung to that like a sucking -fish. But a combing sea dashed me off, and at the same instant, the fish, -taking one good dart forwards, went down like a flash and the barb of that -cursed second iron towing along near me caught me here clapping his hand -just below his shoulder yes, caught me just here, I say, and bore me down -to Hell's flames, I was thinking when, when, all of a sudden, thank the -good God, the barb ript its way along the flesh clear along the whole length -of my arm came out nigh my wrist, and up i floated and that gentleman -there will tell you the rest by the way, captain Dr. Bunger, ship's -surgeon Bunger, my lad, the captain. Now, Bunger boy, spin your part -of the yarn. The professional gentleman thus familiarly pointed out, had -been all the time standing near them, with nothing specific visible, to -denote his gentlemanly rank on board. His face was an exceedingly round but -sober one he was dressed in a faded blue woollen frock or shirt, and patched -trowsers and had thus far been dividing his attention between a marlingspike -he held in one hand, and a pillbox held in the other, occasionally casting -a critical glance at the ivory limbs of the two crippled captains. But, at his -superior's introduction of him to Ahab, he -politely bowed, and straightway went on to do his captain's bidding. It was -a shocking bad wound, began the whalesurgeon and, taking my advice, -Captain Boomer here, stood our old Sammy Samuel Enderby is the name of -my ship, interrupted the onearmed captain, addressing Ahab go on, boy. -Stood our old Sammy off to the northward, to get out of the blazing hot -weather there on the Line. But it was no use I did all I could sat up with -him nights was very severe with him in the matter of diet Oh, very -severe chimed in the patient himself then suddenly altering his voice, -Drinking hot rum toddies with me every night, till he couldn't see to put on -the bandages and sending me to bed, half seas over, about three o'clock in -the morning. Oh, ye stars he sat up with me indeed, and was very severe -in my diet. Oh a great watcher, and very dietetically severe, is Dr. -Bunger. Bunger, you dog, laugh out why don't ye? You know you're a -precious jolly rascal. But, heave ahead, boy, I'd rather be killed by you -than kept alive by any other man. My captain, you must have ere this -perceived, respected sir said the imperturbable godlylooking Bunger, -slightly bowing to Ahab is apt to be facetious at times he spins us many -clever things of that sort. But I may as well say en passant, as the French -remark that I myself that is to say, Jack Bunger, late of the reverend -clergy am a strict total abstinence man I never drink Water cried the -captain he never drinks it it's a sort of fits to him fresh water -throws him into the hydrophobia but go on go on with the arm story. Yes, -I may as well, said the surgeon, coolly. I was about observing, sir, before -Captain Boomer's facetious interruption, that spite of my best and severest -endeavors, the wound kept getting worse and worse the truth was, sir, it -was as ugly gaping wound as surgeon ever saw more than two feet and several -inches long. I measured it with the lead line. In short, it grew black I -knew what was threatened, and off it came. -But I had no hand in shipping that ivory arm there that thing is against all -rule pointing at it with the marlingspike that is the captain's work, -not mine he ordered the carpenter to make it he had that clubhammer there -put to the end, to knock some one's brains out with, I suppose, as he tried -mine once. He flies into diabolical passions sometimes. Do ye see this -dent, sir removing his hat, and brushing aside his hair, and exposing a -bowllike cavity in his skull, but which bore not the slightest scarry trace, -or any token of ever having been a wound Well, the captain there will tell -you how that came here he knows. No, I don't, said the captain, but -his mother did he was born with it. Oh, you solemn rogue, you you Bunger -was there ever such another Bunger in the watery world? Bunger, when you -die, you ought to die in pickle, you dog you should be preserved to future -ages, you rascal. What became of the White Whale? now cried Ahab, who -thus far had been impatiently listening to this byeplay between the two -Englishmen. Oh cried the onearmed captain, Oh, yes Well after he -sounded, we didn't see him again for some time in fact, as I before hinted, -I didn't then know what whale it was that had served me such a trick, till -some time afterwards, when coming back to the Line, we heard about Moby Dick -as some call him and then I knew it was he. Did'st thou cross his wake -again? Twice. But could not fasten? Didn't want to try to ain't one -limb enough? What should I do without this other arm? And I'm thinking Moby -Dick doesn't bite so much as he swallows. Well, then, interrupted Bunger, -give him your left arm for bait to get the right. Do you know, gentlemen -very gravely and mathematically bowing to each Captain in succession Do -you know, gentlemen, that the digestive organs of the whale are so -inscrutably constructed by Divine Providence, that it is quite impossible for -him to completely digest even a -man's arm? And he knows it too. So that what you take for the White Whale's -malice is only his awkwardness. For he never means to swallow a single limb -he only thinks to terrify by feints. But sometimes he is like the old -juggling fellow, formerly a patient of mine in Ceylon, that making believe -swallow jackknives, once upon a time let one drop into him in good earnest, -and there it stayed for a twelvemonth or more when I gave him an emetic, -and he heaved it up in small tacks, d'ye see. No possible way for him to -digest that jackknife, and fully incorporate it into his general bodily -system. Yes, Captain Boomer, if you are quick enough about it, and have a -mind to pawn one arm for the sake of the privilege of giving decent burial to -the other, why in that case the arm is yours only let the whale have -another chance at you shortly, that's all. No, thank ye, Bunger, said the -english captain, he's welcome to the arm he has, since I can't help it, -and didn't know him then but not to another one. No more White Whales for -me I've lowered for him once, and that has satisfied me. There would be -great glory in killing him, I know that and there is a shipload of -precious sperm in him, but, hark ye, he's best let alone don't you think -so, Captain? glancing at the ivory leg. He is. But he will still be -hunted, for all that. What is best let alone, that accursed thing is not -always what least allures. He's all a magnet How long since thou saw'st him -last? Which way heading? Bless my soul, and curse the foul fiend's, -cried Bunger, stoopingly walking round Ahab, and like a dog, strangely -snuffing this man's blood bring the thermometer it's at the boiling -point his pulse makes these planks beat sir taking a lancet from his -pocket, and drawing near to Ahab's arm. Avast roared Ahab, dashing him -against the bulwarks Man the boat Which way heading? Good God cried -the English Captain, to whom the question was put. What's the matter? He -was heading east, I think. Is your Captain crazy? whispering Fedallah. -But Fedallah, putting a finger on his lip, slid over the bulwarks -to take the boat's steering oar, and Ahab, swinging the cuttingtackle -towards him, commanded the ship's sailors to stand by to lower. In a moment -he was standing in the boat's stern, and the Manilla men were springing to -their oars. In vain the English Captain hailed him. With back to the -stranger ship, and face set like a flint to his own, Ahab stood upright till -alongside of the Pequod. -Ere the English ship fades from sight, be -it set down here, that she hailed from London, and was named after the late -Samuel Enderby, merchant of that city, the original of the famous whaling -house of enderby and sons a house which in my poor whaleman's opinion, -comes not far behind the united royal houses of the Tudors and Bourbons, in -point of real historical interest. How long, prior to the year of our Lord -, this great whaling house was in existence, my numerous fishdocuments -do not make plain but in that year - it fitted out the first English -ships that ever regularly hunted the Sperm Whale though for some score of -years previous ever since - our valiant Coffins and Maceys of Nantucket -and the Vineyard had in large fleets pursued that Leviathan, but only in the -North and South Atlantic not elsewhere. Be it distinctly recorded here, -that the Nantucketers were the first among mankind to harpoon with civilized -steel the great Sperm Whale and that for half a century they were the only -people of the whole globe who so harpooned him. In -, a fine ship, the -Amelia, fitted out for the express purpose, and at the sole charge of the -vigorous Enderbys, boldly rounded Cape Horn, and was the first among the -nations to lower a whaleboat of any sort in the great South Sea. The -voyage was a skilful and lucky one and returning to her berth with her hold -full of the precious sperm, the Amelia's example was soon followed by other -ships, English and American, and thus the vast Sperm Whale grounds of the -Pacific were thrown open. But not content with this good deed, the -indefatigable house again bestirred itself Samuel and all his Sons how -many, their mother only knows and under their immediate auspices, and -partly, I think, at their expense, the British government was induced to send -the sloopofwar Rattler on a whaling voyage of discovery into the South Sea. -Commanded by a naval PostCaptain, the Rattler made a rattling voyage of it, -and did some service how much does not appear. But this is not all. In -, the same house fitted out a discovery whale ship of their own, to go on -a tasting cruise to the remote waters of Japan. That ship well called the -Syren made a noble experimental cruise and it was thus that the great -Japanese Whaling Ground first became generally known. The Syren in this -famous voyage was commanded by a Captain Coffin, a Nantucketer. All honor to -the Enderbies, therefore, whose house, I think, exists to the present day -though doubtless the original Samuel must long ago have slipped his cable for -the great South Sea of the other world. The ship named after him was worthy -of the honor, being a very fast sailer and a noble craft every way. I -boarded her once at midnight somewhere off the Patagonian coast, and drank -good flip down in the forecastle. It was a fine gam we had, and they were all -trumps every soul on board. A short life to them, and a jolly death. And -that fine gam I had long, very long after old Ahab touched her planks with -his ivory heel it minds me of the noble, solid, Saxon hospitality of that -ship and may my parson forget me, and the devil remember me, if I ever lose -sight of it. Flip? Did I say we had flip? Yes, and we flipped it at the -rate of ten gallons the hour and when the squall came for it's squally off -there by Patagonia, and all hands visitors and all were called to reef -topsails, we were so topheavy that we had to swing each other aloft in -bowlines and we ignorantly furled the skirts of our jackets into -the sails, so that we hung there, reefed fast in the howling gale, a warning -example to all drunken tars. However, the masts did not go overboard and by -and bye we scrambled down, so sober, that we had to pass the flip again, -though the savage salt spray bursting down the forecastle scuttle, rather too -much diluted and pickled it to my taste. The beef was fine tough, but with -body in it. They said it was bullbeef others, that it was dromedary beef -but i do not know, for certain, how that was. they had dumplings too small, -but substantial, symmetrically globular, and indestructible dumplings. I -fancied that you could feel them, and roll them about in you after they were -swallowed. If you stooped over too far forward, you risked their pitching -out of you like billiardballs. The bread but that couldn't be helped -besides, it was an antiscorbutic in short, the bread contained the only -fresh fare they had. But the forecastle was not very light, and it was very -easy to step over into a dark corner when you ate it. But all in all, taking -her from truck to helm, considering the dimensions of the cook's boilers, -including his own live parchment boilers fore and aft, I say, the Samuel -Enderby was a jolly ship of good fare and plenty fine flip and strong -crack fellows all, and capital from boot heels to hatband. But why was it, -think ye, that the Samuel Enderby, and some other English whalers I know of -not all though were such famous, hospitable ships that passed round the -beef, and the bread, and the can, and the joke and were not soon weary -of eating, and drinking, and laughing? I will tell you. The abounding good -cheer of these English whalers is matter for historical research. Nor have I -been at all sparing of historical whale research, when it has seemed needed. -The English were preceded in the whale fishery by the Hollanders, Zealanders, -and Danes from whom they derived many terms still extant in the fishery -and what is yet more, their fat old fashions, touching plenty to eat and -drink. For, as a general thing, the English merchantship scrimps her crew -but not so the English whaler. Hence, in the English, this thing of whaling -good cheer is not normal and natural, but incidental and particular and, -therefore, must have some special origin, -which is here pointed out, and will be still further elucidated. During my -researches in the leviathanic histories, I stumbled upon an ancient Dutch -volume, which, by the musty whaling smell of it, I knew must be about -whalers. The title was, Dan Coopman, wherefore I concluded that this must -be the invaluable memoirs of some Amsterdam cooper in the fishery, as every -whale ship must carry its cooper. I was reinforced in this opinion by seeing -that it was the production of one Fitz Swackhammer. But my friend Dr. -Snodhead, a very learned man, professor of Low Dutch and High German in the -college of Santa Claus and St. Pott's, to whom I handed the work for -translation, giving him a box of sperm candles for his trouble this same -Dr. Snodhead, so soon as he spied the book, assured me that Dan Coopman did -not mean The Cooper, but The Merchant. In short, this ancient and -learned Low Dutch book treated of the commerce of Holland and, among other -subjects, contained a very interesting account of its whale fishery. And in -this chapter it was, headed Smeer, or Fat, that I found a long detailed -list of the outfits for the larders and cellars of sail of Dutch whalemen -from which list, as translated by Dr. Snodhead. I transcribe the following , lbs. of beef. , lbs. Friesland pork. , lbs. of stock fish. -, lbs. of biscuit. , lbs. of soft bread. , firkins of butter. -, lbs. of Texel and Leyden cheese. , lbs. cheese probably an -inferior article. ankers of Geneva. , barrels of beer. Most -statistical tables are parchingly dry in the reading not so in the present -case, however, where the reader is flooded with whole pipes, barrels, quarts, -and gills of good gin and good cheer. At the time, I devoted three days to -the studious digesting of all this beer, beef, and bread, during which many -profound -thoughts were incidentally suggested to me, capable of a transcendental -and Platonic application and, furthermore, I compiled supplementary tables -of my own, touching the probable quantity of stockfish, etc., consumed by -every Low Dutch harpooneer in that ancient Greenland and Spitzbergen whale -fishery. In the first place, the amount of butter, and Texel and Leyden -cheese consumed, seems amazing. I impute it, though, to their naturally -unctuous natures, being rendered still more unctuous by the nature of their -vocation, and especially by their pursuing their game in those frigid Polar -Seas, on the very coasts of that Esquimaux country where the convivial -natives pledge each other in bumpers of train oil. The quantity of beer, too, -is very large, , barrels. Now, as those polar fisheries could only be -prosecuted in the short summer of that climate, so that the whole cruise of -one of these Dutch whalemen, including the short voyage to and from the -Spitzbergen sea, did not much exceed three months, say, and reckoning men -to each of their fleet of sail, we have , Low Dutch seamen in all -therefore, I say, we have precisely two barrels of beer per man, for a -twelve weeks' allowance, exclusive of his fair proportion of that ankers -of gin. Now, whether these gin and beer harpooneers, so fuddled as one might -fancy them to have been, were the right sort of men to stand up in a boat's -head, and take good aim at flying whales this would seem somewhat -improbable. Yet they did aim at them, and hit them too. But this was very -far North, be it remembered, where beer agrees well with the constitution -upon the Equator, in our southern fishery, beer would be apt to make the -harpooneer sleepy at the masthead and boozy in his boat and grievous loss -might ensue to Nantucket and New Bedford. But no more enough has been said -to show that the old Dutch whalers of two or three centuries ago were high -livers and that the English whalers have not neglected so excellent an -example. For, say they, when cruising in an empty ship, if you can get -nothing better out of the world, get a good dinner out of it, at least. And -this empties the decanter. -Hitherto, in descriptively -treating of the Sperm Whale, I have chiefly dwelt upon the marvels of his -outer aspect or separately and in detail upon some few interior structural -features. But to a large and thorough sweeping comprehension of him, it -behoves me now to unbutton him still further, and untagging the points of his -hose, unbuckling his garters, and casting loose the hooks and the eyes of -the joints of his innermost bones, set him before you in his ultimatum that -is to say, in his unconditional skeleton. But how now, Ishmael? How is it, -that you, a mere oarsman in the fishery, pretend to know aught about the -subterranean parts of the whale? Did erudite Stubb, mounted upon your -capstan, deliver lectures on the anatomy of the Cetacea and by help of the -windlass, hold up a specimen rib for exhibition? Explain thyself, Ishmael. -Can you land a fullgrown whale on your deck for examination, as a cook -dishes a roastpig? Surely not. A veritable witness have you hitherto been, -Ishmael but have a care how you seize the privilege of Jonah alone the -privilege of discoursing upon the joists and beams the rafters, ridgepole, -sleepers, and underpinnings, making up the framework of leviathan and -belike of the tallowvats, dairyrooms, butteries, and cheeseries in his -bowels. I confess, that since Jonah, few whalemen have penetrated very far -beneath the skin of the adult whale nevertheless, I have been blessed with -an opportunity to dissect him in miniature. In a ship I belonged to, a small -cub Sperm Whale was once bodily hoisted to the deck for his poke or bag, to -make sheaths for the barbs of the harpoons, and for the heads of the lances. -Think you I let that chance go, without using my boathatchet and -jackknife, and breaking the seal and reading all the contents of that young -cub? -And as for my exact knowledge of the bones of the leviathan in their gigantic, -full grown development, for that rare knowledge I am indebted to my late -royal friend Tranquo, king of Tranque, one of the Arsacides. For being at -Tranque, years ago, when attached to the tradingship Dey of Algiers, I was -invited to spend part of the Arsacidean holidays with the lord of Tranque, at -his retired palm villa at Pupella a seaside glen not very far distant from -what our sailors called BambooTown, his capital. Among many other fine -qualities, my royal friend Tranquo, being gifted with a devout love for all -matters of barbaric vertu, had brought together in Pupella whatever rare -things the more ingenious of his people could invent chiefly carved woods of -wonderful devices, chiselled shells, inlaid spears, costly paddles, -aromatic canoes and all these distributed among whatever natural wonders, -the wonderfreighted, tributerendering waves had cast upon his shores. Chief -among these latter was a great Sperm Whale, which, after an unusually long -raging gale, had been found dead and stranded, with his head against a -cocoanut tree, whose plumagelike, tufted droopings seemed his verdant jet. -When the vast body had at last been stripped of its fathomdeep enfoldings, -and the bones become dust dry in the sun, then the skeleton was carefully -transported up the Pupella glen, where a grand temple of lordly palms now -sheltered it. The ribs were hung with trophies the vertebrae were carved -with Arsacidean annals, in strange hieroglyphics in the skull, the priests -kept up an unextinguished aromatic flame, so that the mystic head again sent -forth its vapory spout while, suspended from a bough, the terrific lower jaw -vibrated over all the devotees, like the hairhung sword that so affrighted -damocles. it was a wondrous sight. the wood was green as mosses of the icy -Glen the trees stood high and haughty, feeling their living sap the -industrious earth beneath was as a weaver's loom, with a gorgeous carpet on -it, whereof the groundvine tendrils formed the warp and woof, and the -living flowers the figures. All the trees, with all their laden branches -all the shrubs, and ferns, and grasses the messagecarrying air all -these unceasingly were active. Through the lacings of the leaves, the great -sun seemed a flying shuttle weaving the unwearied verdure. Oh, busy weaver -unseen weaver pause one word whither flows the fabric? what palace may -it deck? wherefore all these ceaseless toilings? Speak, weaver stay thy -hand but one single word with thee Nay the shuttle flies the figures -float from forth the loom the freshetrushing carpet for ever slides away. -The weavergod, he weaves and by that weaving is he deafened, that he hears -no mortal voice and by that humming, we, too, who look on the loom are -deafened and only when we escape it shall we hear the thousand voices that -speak through it. For even so it is in all material factories. The spoken -words that are inaudible among the flying spindles those same words are -plainly heard without the walls, bursting from the opened casements. Thereby -have villanies been detected. Ah, mortal then, be heedful for so, in all -this din of the great world's loom, thy subtlest thinkings may be overheard -afar. Now, amid the green, liferestless loom of that Arsacidean wood, the -great, white, worshipped skeleton lay lounging a gigantic idler Yet, as the -everwoven verdant warp and woof intermixed and hummed around him, the mighty -idler seemed the cunning weaver himself all woven over with the vines -every month assuming greener, fresher verdure but himself a skeleton. Life -folded Death Death trellised Life the grim god wived with youthful Life, -and begat him curlyheaded glories. Now, when with royal Tranquo I visited -this wondrous whale, and saw the skull an altar, and the artificial smoke -ascending from where the real jet had issued, I marvelled that the king -should regard a chapel as an object of vertu. He laughed. But more I -marvelled that the priests should swear that smoky jet of his was genuine. To -and fro I paced before this skeleton brushed the vines aside broke through -the ribs and with a ball of Arsacidean twine, wandered, eddied long amid -its many winding, shaded collonades and arbors. But soon my line was out -and following it back, I emerged from the opening where I entered. I saw no -living thing within naught was there but bones. -Cutting me a green measuringrod, I once more dived within the skeleton. -From their arrowslit in the skull, the priests perceived me taking the -altitude of the final rib. How now they shouted Dar'st thou measure -this our god That's for us. Aye, priests well, how long do ye make him, -then? But hereupon a fierce contest rose among them, concerning feet and -inches they cracked each other's sconces with their yardsticks the great -skull echoed and seizing that lucky chance, I quickly concluded my own -admeasurements. These admeasurements I now propose to set before you. But -first, be it recorded, that, in this matter, I am not free to utter any -fancied measurement I please. Because there are skeleton authorities you can -refer to, to test my accuracy. There is a Leviathanic Museum, they tell me, -in Hull, England, one of the whaling ports of that country, where they have -some fine specimens of finbacks and other whales. Likewise, I have heard -that in the museum of Manchester, in New Hampshire, they have what the -proprietors call the only perfect specimen of a Greenland or River Whale in -the United States. Moreover, at a place in Yorkshire, England, Burton -constable by name, a certain sir clifford constable has in his possession the -skeleton of a Sperm Whale, but of moderate size, by no means of the -fullgrown magnitude of my friend King Tranquo's. In both cases, the stranded -whales to which these two skeletons belonged, were originally claimed by -their proprietors upon similar grounds. King Tranquo seizing his because he -wanted it and Sir Clifford, because he was lord of the seignories of those -parts. Sir Clifford's whale has been articulated throughout so that, like a -great chest of drawers, you can open and shut him, in all his bony cavities -spread out his ribs like a gigantic fan and swing all day upon his lower -jaw. Locks are to be put upon some of his trapdoors and shutters and a -footman will show round future visitors with a bunch of keys at his side. -Sir Clifford thinks of charging twopence for a peep at the whispering gallery -in the spinal column threepence to hear the echo in the hollow of his -cerebellum and sixpence for the unrivalled view from his forehead. The -skeleton dimensions I shall now proceed to set down are -copied verbatim from my right arm, where I had them tattooed as in my wild -wanderings at that period, there was no other secure way of preserving such -valuable statistics. But as I was crowded for space, and wished the other -parts of my body to remain a blank page for a poem I was then composing at -least, what untattooed parts might remain I did not trouble myself with the -odd inches nor, indeed, should inches at all enter into a congenial -admeasurement of the whale. -In the first -place, I wish to lay before you a particular, plain statement, touching the -living bulk of this leviathan, whose skeleton we are briefly to exhibit. -Such a statement may prove useful here. According to a careful calculation I -have made, and which I partly base upon Captain Scoresby's estimate, of -seventy tons for the largest sized Greenland whale of sixty feet in length -according to my careful calculation, I say, a Sperm Whale of the largest -magnitude, between eightyfive and ninety feet in length, and something less -than forty feet in its fullest circumference, such a whale will weigh at -least ninety tons so that reckoning thirteen men to a ton, he would -considerably outweigh the combined population of a whole village of one -thousand one hundred inhabitants. Think you not then that brains, like yoked -cattle, should be put to this leviathan, to make him at all budge to any -landsman's imagination? Having already in various ways put before you his -skull, spouthole, jaw, teeth, tail, forehead, fins, and divers other parts, -I shall now simply point out what is most interesting in the general bulk of -his unobstructed bones. But as the colossal skull embraces so very large a -proportion of the entire extent -of the skeleton as it is by far the most complicated part and as nothing -is to be repeated concerning it in this chapter, you must not fail to carry -it in your mind, or under your arm, as we proceed, otherwise you will not -gain a complete notion of the general structure we are about to view. In -length, the Sperm Whale's skeleton at Tranque measured seventytwo feet so -that when fully invested and extended in life, he must have been ninety feet -long for in the whale, the skeleton loses about one fifth in length -compared with the living body. Of this seventytwo feet, his skull and jaw -comprised some twenty feet, leaving some fifty feet of plain backbone. -Attached to this backbone, for something less than a third of its length, -was the mighty circular basket of ribs which once enclosed his vitals. To me -this vast ivoryribbed chest, with the long, unrelieved spine, extending far -away from it in a straight line, not a little resembled the hull of a great -ship newlaid upon the stocks, when only some twenty of her naked bowribs are -inserted, and the keel is otherwise, for the time, but a long, disconnected -timber. The ribs were ten on a side. The first, to begin from the neck, was -nearly six feet long the second, third, and fourth were each successively -longer, till you came to the climax of the fifth, or one of the middle ribs, -which measured eight feet and some inches. From that part, the remaining -ribs diminished, till the tenth and last only spanned five feet and some -inches. In general thickness, they all bore a seemly correspondence to their -length. The middle ribs were the most arched. In some of the Arsacides they -are used for beams whereon to lay footpath bridges over small streams. In -considering these ribs, I could not but be struck anew with the circumstance, -so variously repeated in this book, that the skeleton of the whale is by no -means the mould of his invested form. The largest of the Tranque ribs, one -of the middle ones, occupied that part of the fish which, in life, is greatest -in depth. Now, the greatest depth of the invested body of this particular -whale must have been at least sixteen feet whereas, the corresponding rib -measured but little more than eight feet. So that this rib only conveyed half -of the true notion of the living -magnitude of that part. Besides, for some way, where I now saw but a naked -spine, all that had been once wrapped round with tons of added bulk in flesh, -muscle, blood, and bowels. Still more, for the ample fins, I here saw but a -few disordered joints and in place of the weighty and majestic, but boneless -flukes, an utter blank How vain and foolish, then, thought I, for timid -untravelled man to try to comprehend aright this wondrous whale, by merely -poring over his dead attenuated skeleton, stretched in this peaceful wood. -no. only in the heart of quickest perils only when within the eddyings of -his angry flukes only on the profound unbounded sea, can the fully invested -whale be truly and livingly found out. But the spine. For that, the best way -we can consider it is, with a crane, to pile its bones high up on end. No -speedy enterprise. But now it's done, it looks much like Pompey's Pillar. -There are forty and odd vertebrae in all, which in the skeleton are not -locked together. They mostly lie like the great knobbed blocks on a Gothic -spire, forming solid courses of heavy masonry. The largest, a middle one, is -in width something less than three feet, and in depth more than four. The -smallest, where the spine tapers away into the tail, is only two inches in -width, and looks something like a white billiardball. I was told that there -were still smaller ones, but they had been lost by some little cannibal -urchins, the priest's children, who had stolen them to play marbles with. -Thus we see how that the spine of even the hugest of living things tapers off -at last into simple child's play. -From his mighty bulk the whale -affords a most congenial theme whereon to enlarge, amplify, and generally -expatiate. Would you, you could not compress him. By good rights he -should only be treated of in imperial folio. Not to tell over again his -furlongs from spiracle to tail, and the yards he measures about the waist -only think of the gigantic involutions of his intestines, where they lie in -him like great cables and hausers coiled away in the subterranean orlopdeck -of a lineofbattleship. Since I have undertaken to manhandle this -Leviathan, it behoves me to approve myself omnisciently exhaustive in the -enterprise not overlooking the minutest seminal germs of his blood, and -spinning him out to the uttermost coil of his bowels. Having already described -him in most of his present habitatory and anatomical peculiarities, it now -remains to magnify him in an archaeological, fossiliferous, and antediluvian -point of view. Applied to any other creature than the Leviathan to an ant or -a flea such portly terms might justly be deemed unwarrantably grandiloquent. -But when Leviathan is the text, the case is altered. Fain am I to stagger to -this emprise under the weightiest words of the dictionary. And here be it -said, that whenever it has been convenient to consult one in the course of -these dissertations, I have invariably used a huge quarto edition of Johnson, -expressly purchased for that purpose because that famous lexicographer's -uncommon personal bulk more fitted him to compile a lexicon to be used by a -whale author like me. One often hears of writers that rise and swell with -their subject, though it may seem but an ordinary one. How, then, with me, -writing of this Leviathan? Unconsciously my chirography expands into placard -capitals. Give me a condor's quill Give me Vesuvius' crater for an inkstand -Friends, hold my arms For in the mere act of penning my thoughts of this -Leviathan, they weary me, and make me faint with their outreaching -comprehensiveness of sweep, as if to include the whole circle of the -sciences, and all the generations of whales, and men, and mastodons, past, -present, and to come, with all the revolving panoramas of empire on earth, -and throughout the whole universe, not excluding its suburbs. Such, and so -magnifying, is the virtue of a large and liberal theme We expand to its -bulk. To produce a mighty book, you must choose a -mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, -though many there be who have tried it. Ere entering upon the subject of -Fossil Whales, I present my credentials as a geologist, by stating that in my -miscellaneous time i have been a stonemason, and also a great digger of -ditches, canals, and wells, winevaults, cellars, and cisterns of all sorts. -Likewise, by way of preliminary, I desire to remind the reader, that while -in the earlier geological strata there are found the fossils of monsters now -almost completely extinct the subsequent relics discovered in what are -called the Tertiary formations seem the connecting, or at any rate -intercepted links, between the antichronical creatures, and those whose -remote posterity are said to have entered the Ark all the Fossil Whales -hitherto discovered belong to the Tertiary period, which is the last -preceding the superficial formations. And though none of them precisely -answer to any known species of the present time, they are yet sufficiently -akin to them in general respects, to justify their taking ranks as Cetacean -fossils. Detached broken fossils of preadamite whales, fragments of their -bones and skeletons, have within thirty years past, at various intervals, -been found at the base of the Alps, in Lombardy, in France, in England, in -Scotland, and in the States of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. Among the -more curious of such remains is part of a skull, which in the year -was -disinterred in the Rue Dauphine in Paris, a short street opening almost -directly upon the palace of the Tuileries and bones disinterred in -excavating the great docks of Antwerp, in Napoleon's time. Cuvier pronounced -these fragments to have belonged to some utterly unknown Leviathanic species. -But by far the most wonderful of all cetacean relics was the almost complete -vast skeleton of an extinct monster, found in the year -, on the -plantation of Judge Creagh, in Alabama. The awestricken credulous slaves in -the vicinity took it for the bones of one of the fallen angels. The Alabama -doctors declared it a huge reptile, and bestowed upon it the name of -Basilosaurus. But some specimen bones of it being taken across the sea to -owen, the english anatomist, it turned out that this alleged reptile was a -whale, though of a departed species. -A significant illustration of the fact, again and again repeated in this book, -that the skeleton of the whale furnishes but little clue to the shape of his -fully invested body. So Owen rechristened the monster Zeuglodon and in his -paper read before the London Geological Society, pronounced it, in substance, -one of the most extraordinary creatures which the mutations of the globe have -blotted out of existence. When I stand among these mighty Leviathan skeletons, -skulls, tusks, jaws, ribs, and vertebrae, all characterized by partial -resemblances to the existing breeds of seamonsters but at the same time -bearing on the other hand similar affinities to the annihilated antichronical -Leviathans, their incalculable seniors I am, by a flood, borne back to that -wondrous period, ere time itself can be said to have begun for time began -with man. Here Saturn's grey chaos rolls over me, and I obtain dim, shuddering -glimpses into those Polar eternities when wedged bastions of ice pressed -hard upon what are now the Tropics and in all the , miles of this -world's circumference, not an inhabitable hand's breadth of land was visible. -Then the whole world was the whale's and, king of creation, he left his -wake along the present lines of the Andes and the Himmalehs. Who can show a -pedigree like Leviathan? Ahab's harpoon had shed older blood than the -Pharaoh's. Methuselah seems a schoolboy. I look round to shake hands with -Shem. I am horrorstruck at this antemosaic, unsourced existence of the -unspeakable terrors of the whale, which, having been before all time, must -needs exist after all humane ages are over. But not alone has this Leviathan -left his preadamite traces in the stereotype plates of nature, and in -limestone and marl bequeathed his ancient bust but upon Egyptian tablets, -whose antiquity seems to claim for them an almost fossiliferous character, we -find the unmistakable print of his fin. In an apartment of the great temple -of Denderah, some fifty years ago, there was discovered upon the granite -ceiling a sculptured and painted planisphere, abounding in centaurs, -griffins, and dolphins, similar to the grotesque figures on the celestial -globe of the moderns. Gliding among them, old Leviathan swam as of yore was -there swimming in that planisphere, centuries before Solomon was cradled. -Nor must there be omitted another strange attestation of the antiquity of the -whale, in his own osseous postdiluvian reality, as set down by the venerable -John Leo, the old Barbary traveller. Not far from the Seaside, they have a -Temple, the Rafters and Beams of which are made of WhaleBones for Whales -of a monstrous size are oftentimes cast up dead upon that shore. The Common -People imagine, that by a secret Power bestowed by God upon the Temple, no -Whale can pass it without immediate death. But the truth of the Matter is, -that on either side of the Temple, there are Rocks that shoot two Miles into -the Sea, and wound the Whales when they light upon 'em. They keep a Whale's -Rib of an incredible length for a Miracle, which lying upon the Ground with -its convex part uppermost, makes an Arch, the Head of which cannot be -reached by a Man upon a Camel's Back. This Rib says John Leo is said to -have layn there a hundred Years before I saw it. Their Historians affirm, -that a Prophet who prophesy'd of Mahomet, came from this Temple, and some do -not stand to assert, that the Prophet Jonas was cast forth by the Whale at -the Base of the Temple. In this Afric Temple of the Whale I leave you, -reader, and if you be a Nantucketer, and a whaleman, you will silently worship -there. -Inasmuch, then, as this Leviathan comes floundering down upon us from the -headwaters of the Eternities, it may be fitly inquired, whether, in the -long course of his generations, he has not degenerated from the original bulk -of his sires. But upon investigation we find, that not only are the whales of -the present day superior in magnitude to those whose fossil remains are found -in the Tertiary system embracing a distinct geological period prior to man, -but of the whales found in that -Tertiary system, those belonging to its latter formations exceed in size -those of its earlier ones. Of all the preadamite whales yet exhumed, by far -the largest is the Alabama one mentioned in the last chapter, and that was -less than seventy feet in length in the skeleton. Whereas, we have already -seen, that the tapemeasure gives seventytwo feet for the skeleton of a -large sized modern whale. And I have heard, on whalemen's authority, that -Sperm Whales have been captured near a hundred feet long at the time of -capture. But may it not be, that while the whales of the present hour are an -advance in magnitude upon those of all previous geological periods may it -not be, that since Adam's time they have degenerated? Assuredly, we must -conclude so, if we are to credit the accounts of such gentlemen as Pliny, -and the ancient naturalists generally. For Pliny tells us of whales that -embraced acres of living bulk, and Aldrovandus of others which measured eight -hundred feet in length Rope Walks and Thames Tunnels of Whales And even in -the days of Banks and Solander, Cooke's naturalists, we find a Danish member -of the Academy of Sciences setting down certain Iceland Whales -reydansiskur, or Wrinkled Bellies at one hundred and twenty yards that -is, three hundred and sixty feet. And Lacepede, the French naturalist, in his -elaborate history of whales, in the very beginning of his work page , -sets down the Right Whale at one hundred metres, three hundred and -twentyeight feet. And this work was published so late as A. D. -. But -will any whaleman believe these stories? No. The whale of today is as big -as his ancestors in Pliny's time. And if ever I go where Pliny is, I, a -whaleman more than he was, will make bold to tell him so. Because I -cannot understand how it is, that while the Egyptian mummies that were buried -thousands of years before even Pliny was born, do not measure so much in -their coffins as a modern Kentuckian in his socks and while the cattle and -other animals sculptured on the oldest Egyptian and Nineveh tablets, by the -relative proportions in which they are drawn, just as plainly prove that the -highbred, stallfed, prize cattle of Smithfield, not only equal, but far -exceed in magnitude the fattest of Pharaoh's fat kine in the face of -all this, I will not admit that of all animals the whale alone should have -degenerated. But still another inquiry remains one often agitated by the -more recondite Nantucketers. Whether owing to the almost omniscient -lookouts at the mastheads of the whaleships, now penetrating even through -Behring's straits, and into the remotest secret drawers and lockers of the -world and the thousand harpoons and lances darted along all continental -coasts the moot point is, whether Leviathan can long endure so wide a chase, -and so remorseless a havoc whether he must not at last be exterminated from -the waters, and the last whale, like the last man, smoke his last pipe, and -then himself evaporate in the final puff. Comparing the humped herds of -whales with the humped herds of buffalo, which, not forty years ago, -overspread by tens of thousands the prairies of Illinois and Missouri, and -shook their iron manes and scowled with their thunderclotted brows upon the -sites of populous rivercapitals, where now the polite broker sells you land -at a dollar an inch in such a comparison an irresistible argument would seem -furnished, to show that the hunted whale cannot now escape speedy extinction. -But you must look at this matter in every light. Though so short a period -ago not a good lifetime the census of the buffalo in Illinois exceeded the -census of men now in London, and though at the present day not one horn or -hoof of them remains in all that region and though the cause of this -wondrous extermination was the spear of man yet the far different nature of -the whalehunt peremptorily forbids so inglorious an end to the Leviathan. -Forty men in one ship hunting the Sperm Whale for fortyeight months think -they have done extremely well, and thank God, if at last they carry home the -oil of forty fish. Whereas, in the days of the old Canadian and Indian hunters -and trappers of the West, when the far west in whose sunset suns still -rise was a wilderness and a virgin, the same number of moccasined men, for -the same number of months, mounted on horse instead of sailing in ships, -would have slain not forty, but forty thousand and more buffaloes a fact -that, if need were, could be statistically stated. Nor, considered aright, -does it seem any argument in favor -of the gradual extinction of the Sperm Whale, for example, that in former -years the latter part of the last century, say these Leviathans, in small -pods, were encountered much oftener than at present, and, in consequence, -the voyages were not so prolonged, and were also much more remunerative. -Because, as has been elsewhere noticed, those whales, influenced by some -views to safety, now swim the seas in immense caravans, so that to a large -degree the scattered solitaries, yokes, and pods, and schools of other days -are now aggregated into vast but widely separated, unfrequent armies. That is -all. And equally fallacious seems the conceit, that because the socalled -whalebone whales no longer haunt many grounds in former years abounding with -them, hence that species also is declining. For they are only being driven -from promontory to cape and if one coast is no longer enlivened with their -jets, then, be sure, some other and remoter strand has been very recently -startled by the unfamiliar spectacle. Furthermore concerning these last -mentioned Leviathans, they have two firm fortresses, which, in all human -probability, will for ever remain impregnable. And as upon the invasion of -their valleys, the frosty Swiss have retreated to their mountains so, -hunted from the savannas and glades of the middle seas, the whalebone whales -can at last resort to their Polar citadels, and diving under the ultimate -glassy barriers and walls there, come up among icy fields and floes and in -a charmed circle of everlasting December, bid defiance to all pursuit from -man. But as perhaps fifty of these whalebone whales are harpooned for one -cachalot, some philosophers of the forecastle have concluded that this -positive havoc has already very seriously diminished their battalions. But -though for some time past a number of these whales, not less than , have -been annually slain on the nor' west coast by the Americans alone yet there -are considerations which render even this circumstance of little or no account -as an opposing argument in this matter. Natural as it is to be somewhat -incredulous concerning the populousness of the more enormous creatures of the -globe, yet what shall we say to Harto, the historian of Goa, when he tells -us that at one hunting the King of Siam took -elephants -that in those regions elephants are numerous as droves of cattle in the -temperate climes. And there seems no reason to doubt that if these elephants, -which have now been hunted for thousands of years, by Semiramis, by Porus, -by hannibal, and by all the successive monarchs of the East if they still -survive there in great numbers, much more may the great whale outlast all -hunting, since he has a pasture to expatiate in, which is precisely twice as -large as all Asia, both Americas, Europe and Africa, New Holland, and all the -Isles of the sea combined. Moreover we are to consider, that from the -presumed great longevity of whales, their probably attaining the age of a -century and more, therefore at any one period of time, several distinct -adult generations must be contemporary. And what that is, we may soon gain -some idea of, by imagining all the graveyards, cemeteries, and family vaults -of creation yielding up the live bodies of all the men, women, and children -who were alive seventyfive years ago and adding this countless host to the -present human population of the globe. Wherefore, for all these things, we -account the whale immortal in his species, however perishable in his -individuality. He swam the seas before the continents broke water he once -swam over the site of the Tuileries, and Windsor Castle, and the Kremlin. In -Noah's flood, he despised Noah's Ark and if ever the world is to be again -flooded, like the Netherlands, to kill off its rats, then the eternal whale -will still survive, and rearing upon the topmost crest of the equatorial -flood, spout his frothed defiance to the skies. -The precipitating manner in which Captain -Ahab had quitted the Samuel Enderby of London, had not been unattended with -some small violence to his own person. He had lighted with such energy upon a -thwart of his boat that his ivory leg had -received a halfsplintering shock. And when after gaining his own deck, and -his own pivothole there, he so vehemently wheeled round with an urgent -command to the steersman it was, as ever, something about his not steering -inflexibly enough then, the already shaken ivory received such an additional -twist and wrench, that though it still remained entire, and to all -appearances lusty, yet Ahab did not deem it entirely trustworthy. And, -indeed, it seemed small matter for wonder, that for all his pervading, mad -recklessness, Ahab did at times give careful heed to the condition of that -dead bone upon which he partly stood. For it had not been very long prior to -the Pequod's sailing from Nantucket, that he had been found one night lying -prone upon the ground, and insensible by some unknown, and seemingly -inexplicable, unimaginable casualty, his ivory limb having been so violently -displaced, that it had stakewise smitten, and all but pierced his groin -nor was it without extreme difficulty that the agonizing wound was entirely -cured. Nor, at the time, had it failed to enter his monomaniac mind, that all -the anguish of that then present suffering was but the direct issue of a -former woe and he too plainly seemed to see, that as the most poisonous -reptile of the marsh perpetuates his kind as inevitably as the sweetest -songster of the grove so, equally with every felicity, all miserable events -do naturally beget their like. Yea, more than equally, thought Ahab since -both the ancestry and posterity of Grief go further than the ancestry and -posterity of Joy. For, not to hint of this that it is an inference from -certain canonic teachings, that while some natural enjoyments here shall have -no children born to them for the other world, but, on the contrary, shall be -followed by the joychildlessness of all hell's despair whereas, some guilty -mortal miseries shall still fertilely beget to themselves an eternally -progressive progeny of griefs beyond the grave not at all to hint of this, -there still seems an inequality in the deeper analysis of the thing. For, -thought Ahab, while even the highest earthly felicities ever have a certain -unsignifying pettiness lurking in them, but, at bottom, all heartwoes, a -mystic significance, and, in some men, an archangelic grandeur so do their -diligent tracingsout not belie the obvious deduction. To trail the -genealogies -of these high mortal miseries, carries us at last among the sourceless -primogenitures of the gods so that, in the face of all the glad, haymaking -suns, and softcymballing, round harvestmoons, we must needs give in to -this that the gods themselves are not for ever glad. The ineffaceable, sad -birthmark in the brow of man, is but the stamp of sorrow in the signers. -Unwittingly here a secret has been divulged, which perhaps might more -properly, in set way, have been disclosed before. With many other particulars -concerning Ahab, always had it remained a mystery to some, why it was, that -for a certain period, both before and after the sailing of the Pequod, he -had hidden himself away with such GrandLamalike exclusiveness and, for -that one interval, sought speechless refuge, as it were, among the marble -senate of the dead. Captain Peleg's bruited reason for this thing appeared by -no means adequate though, indeed, as touching all Ahab's deeper part, every -revelation partook more of significant darkness than of explanatory light. -But, in the end, it all came out this one matter did, at least. That direful -mishap was at the bottom of his temporary recluseness. And not only this, but -to that evercontracting, dropping circle ashore, who, for any reason, -possessed the privilege of a less banned approach to him to that timid -circle the above hinted casualty remaining, as it did, moodily unaccounted -for by Ahab invested itself with terrors, not entirely underived from the -land of spirits and of wails. So that, through their zeal for him, they had -all conspired, so far as in them lay, to muffle up the knowledge of this -thing from others and hence it was, that not till a considerable interval -had elapsed, did it transpire upon the Pequod's decks. But be all this as it -may let the unseen, ambiguous synod in the air, or the vindictive princes -and potentates of fire, have to do or not with earthly Ahab, yet, in this -present matter of his leg, he took plain practical procedures he called the -carpenter. And when that functionary appeared before him, he bade him -without delay set about making a new leg, and directed the mates to see him -supplied with all the studs and joists of jawivory Sperm Whale which had -thus far been accumulated -on the voyage, in order that a careful selection of the stoutest, -clearestgrained stuff might be secured. This done, the carpenter received -orders to have the leg completed that night and to provide all the fittings -for it, independent of those pertaining to the distrusted one in use. -Moreover, the ship's forge was ordered to be hoisted out of its temporary -idleness in the hold and, to accelerate the affair, the blacksmith was -commanded to proceed at once to the forging of whatever iron contrivances -might be needed. -Seat thyself sultanically among the -moons of Saturn, and take high abstracted man alone and he seems a wonder, -a grandeur, and a woe. But from the same point, take mankind in mass, and -for the most part, they seem a mob of unnecessary duplicates, both -contemporary and hereditary. But most humble though he was, and far from -furnishing an example of the high, humane abstraction the Pequod's carpenter -was no duplicate hence, he now comes in person on this stage. Like all -seagoing ship carpenters, and more especially those belonging to whaling -vessels, he was, to a certain offhanded, practical extent, alike experienced -in numerous trades and callings collateral to his own the carpenter's -pursuit being the ancient and outbranching trunk of all those numerous -handicrafts which more or less have to do with wood as an auxiliary material. -but, besides the application to him of the generic remark above, this -carpenter of the Pequod was singularly efficient in those thousand nameless -mechanical emergencies continually recurring in a large ship, upon a three -or four years' voyage, in uncivilized and fardistant seas. For not to speak -of his readiness in ordinary duties repairing stove boats, sprung spars, -reforming the shape of clumsybladed oars, inserting bull's -eyes in the deck, or new treenails in the side planks, and other -miscellaneous matters more directly pertaining to his special business he -was moreover unhesitatingly expert in all manner of conflicting aptitudes, -both useful and capricious. The one grand stage where he enacted all his -various parts so manifold, was his vicebench a long rude ponderous table -furnished with several vices, of different sizes, and both of iron and of -wood. At all times except when whales were alongside, this bench was securely -lashed athwartships against the rear of the Tryworks. A belaying pin is -found too large to be easily inserted into its hole the carpenter claps it -into one of his everready vices, and straightway files it smaller. A lost -landbird of strange plumage strays on board, and is made a captive out of -clean shaved rods of rightwhale bone, and crossbeams of sperm whale ivory, -the carpenter makes a pagodalooking cage for it. An oarsman sprains his -wrist the carpenter concocts a soothing lotion. Stubb longed for vermillion -stars to be painted upon the blade of his every oar screwing each oar in his -big vice of wood, the carpenter symmetrically supplies the constellation. A -sailor takes a fancy to wear sharkbone earrings the carpenter drills his -ears. Another has the toothache the carpenter out pincers, and clapping -one hand upon his bench bids him be seated there but the poor fellow -unmanageably winces under the unconcluded operation whirling round the -handle of his wooden vice, the carpenter signs him to clap his jaw in that, -if he would have him draw the tooth. Thus, this carpenter was prepared at all -points, and alike indifferent and without respect in all. Teeth he -accounted bits of ivory heads he deemed but topblocks men themselves he -lightly held for capstans. But while now upon so wide a field thus variously -accomplished, and with such liveliness of expertness in him, too all this -would seem to argue some uncommon vivacity of intelligence. But not precisely -so. For nothing was this man more remarkable, than for a certain impersonal -stolidity as it were impersonal, I say for it so shaded off into the -surrounding infinite of things, that it seemed one with the general -stolidity discernible in the whole visible world which while -pauselessly active in uncounted modes, still eternally holds its peace, and -ignores you, though you dig foundations for cathedrals. Yet was this -halfhorrible stolidity in him, involving, too, as it appeared, an -allramifying heartlessness yet was it oddly dashed at times, with an old, -crutchlike, antediluvian, wheezing humorousness, not unstreaked now and then -with a certain grizzled wittiness such as might have served to pass the time -during the midnight watch on the bearded forecastle of Noah's ark. Was it -that this old carpenter had been a lifelong wanderer, whose much rolling, to -and fro, not only had gathered no moss but what is more, had rubbed off -whatever small outward clingings might have originally pertained to him? He -was a stript abstract an unfractioned integral uncompromised as a newborn -babe living without premeditated reference to this world or the next. You -might almost say, that this strange uncompromisedness in him involved a sort -of unintelligence for in his numerous trades, he did not seem to work so -much by reason or by instinct, or simply because he had been tutored to it, -or by any intermixture of all these, even or uneven but merely by a kind of -deaf and dumb, spontaneous literal process. He was a pure manipulator his -brain, if he had ever had one, must have early oozed along into the muscles of -his fingers. He was like one of those unreasoning but still highly useful, -multum in parvo, Sheffield contrivances, assuming the exterior though a -little swelled of a common pocket knife but containing, not only blades of -various sizes, but also screwdrivers, corkscrews, tweezers, awls, pens, -rulers, nailfilers, countersinkers. So, if his superiors wanted to use the -carpenter for a screwdriver, all they had to do was to open that part of -him, and the screw was fast or if for tweezers, take him up by the legs, -and there they were. Yet, as previously hinted, this omnitooled, -openandshut carpenter, was, after all, no mere machine of an automaton. If -he did not have a common soul in him, he had a subtle something that somehow -anomalously did its duty. What that was, whether essence of quicksilver, or a -few drops of hartshorn, there is no telling. But there it was and there it -had abided for now some sixty years or more. And this it was, this same -unaccountable, cunning lifeprinciple in him this it was, that kept him a -great part of the time soliloquizing but only like an unreasoning wheel, -which also hummingly soliloquizes or rather, his body was a sentrybox and -this soliloquizer on guard there, and talking all the time to keep himself -awake. -Carpenter standing before his vicebench, and by the light of two lanterns -busily filing the ivory joist for the leg, which joist is firmly fixed in the -vice. Slabs of ivory, leather straps, pads, screws, and various tools of all -sorts lying about the bench. Forward, the red flame of the forge is seen, -where the blacksmith is at work. Drat the file, and drat the bone That is -hard which should be soft, and that soft which should be hard. So we go, -who file old jaws and shinbones. Let's try another. Aye, now, this works -better sneezes. Halloa, this bone dust is sneezes why it's - sneezesyes it's sneezesbless my soul, it won't let me speak This is -what an old fellow gets now for working in dead lumber. Saw a live tree, and -you don't get this dust amputate a live bone, and you don't get it - sneezes. Come, come, you old Smut, there, bear a hand, and let's have -that ferule and bucklescrew I'll be ready for them presently. Lucky now - sneezes there's no kneejoint to make that might puzzle a little but a -mere shinbone why it's easy as making hoppoles only I should like to put a -good finish on. Time, time if I but only had the time, I could turn him -out as neat a leg now as ever sneezes scraped to a lady in a parlor. Those -buckskin legs and calves of legs I've seen in shop windows wouldn't compare -at all. They soak water, they do and of -course get rheumatic, and have to be doctored sneezes with washes and -lotions, just like live legs. There before I saw it off, now, I must call -his old Mogulship, and see whether the length will be all right too short, -if anything, I guess. Ha that's the heel we are in luck here he comes, -or it's somebody else, that's certain. Ahab advancing. During the -ensuing scene, the carpenter continues sneezing at times. Well, manmaker -Just in time, sir. If the captain pleases, I will now mark the length. Let -me measure, sir. Measured for a leg good. Well, it's not the first time. -About it There keep thy finger on it. This is a cogent vice thou hast -here, carpenter let me feel its grip once. so, so it does pinch some. -Oh, sir, it will break bonesbeware, beware No fear I like a good grip I -like to feel something in this slippery world that can hold, man. What's -Prometheus about there? the blacksmith, I mean what's he about? He must be -forging the bucklescrew, sir, now. Right. It's a partnership he supplies -the muscle part. He makes a fierce red flame there Aye, sir he must have -the white heat for this kind of fine work. Umm. So he must. I do deem it -now a most meaning thing, that that old Greek, Prometheus, who made men, they -say, should have been a blacksmith, and animated them with fire for what's -made in fire must properly belong to fire and so hell's probable. How the -soot flies This must be the remainder the Greek made the Africans of. -Carpenter, when he's through with that buckle, tell him to forge a pair of -steel shoulderblades there's a pedlar aboard with a crushing pack. Sir? -Hold while Prometheus is about it, I'll order a complete man after a -desirable pattern. Imprimis, fifty feet high in his socks then, chest -modelled after the Thames Tunnel then, legs with roots to 'em, to stay in -one place then, arms three -feet through the wrist no heart at all, brass forehead, and about a -quarter of an acre of fine brains and let me see shall I order eyes to see -outwards? No, but put a skylight on top of his head to illuminate inwards. -There, take the order, and away. Now, what's he speaking about, and who's he -speaking to, I should like to know? Shall I keep standing here? aside. -'Tis but indifferent architecture to make a blind dome here's one. No, no, -no I must have a lantern. Ho, ho That's it, hey? Here are two, sir one -will serve my turn. What art thou thrusting that thiefcatcher into my face -for, man? thrusted light is worse than presented pistols. i thought, sir, -that you spoke to carpenter. Carpenter? why that's but no a very tidy, -and, I may say, an extremely gentlemanlike sort of business thou art in here, -carpenter or would'st thou rather work in clay? Sir? Clay? clay, sir? -That's mud we leave clay to ditchers, sir. The fellow's impious What art -thou sneezing about? Bone is rather dusty, sir. Take the hint, then and -when thou art dead, never bury thyself under living people's noses. Sir? -oh ah I guess so so yes, yes oh dear Look ye, carpenter, I dare say -thou callest thyself a right good workmanlike workman, eh Well, then, will -it speak thoroughly well for thy work, if, when I come to mount this leg -thou makest, I shall nevertheless feel another leg in the same identical -place with it that is, carpenter, my old lost leg the flesh and blood one, -I mean. Canst thou not drive that old Adam away? Truly, sir, I begin to -understand somewhat now. Yes, I have heard something curious on that score, -sir how that a dismasted man never entirely loses the feeling of his old -spar, but it will be still pricking him at times. May I humbly ask if it be -really so, sir? It is, man. Look, put thy live leg here in the place where -mine once was so, now, here is only one distinct leg to the eye, -yet two to the soul. Where thou feelest tingling life there, exactly there, -there to a hair, do I. Is't a riddle? I should humbly call it a poser, sir. -Hist, then. How dost thou know that some entire, living, thinking thing may -not be invisibly and uninterpenetratingly standing precisely where thou now -standest aye, and standing there in thy spite? In thy most solitary hours, -then, dost thou not fear eavesdroppers? Hold, don't speak And if I still -feel the smart of my crushed leg, though it be now so long dissolved then, -why mayest not thou, carpenter, feel the fiery pains of hell for ever, and -without a body? Hah Good Lord Truly, sir, if it comes to that, I must -calculate over again I think I didn't carry a small figure, sir. Look ye, -puddingheads should never grant premises. How long before this leg is -done? Perhaps an hour, sir. Bungle away at it then, and bring it to me -turns to go. Oh, Life Here I am, proud as Greek god, and yet standing -debtor to this blockhead for a bone to stand on Cursed be that mortal -interindebtedness which will not do away with ledgers. I would be free as -air and I'm down in the whole world's books. I am so rich, I could have -given bid for bid with the wealthiest Praetorians at the auction of the Roman -empire which was the world's and yet I owe for the flesh in the tongue I -brag with. By heavens I'll get a crucible, and into it, and dissolve -myself down to one small, compendious vertebra. So. Carpenter resuming -his work. Well, well, well Stubb knows him best of all, and Stubb -always says he's queer says nothing but that one sufficient little word -queer he's queer, says Stubb he's queerqueer, queer and keeps dinning -it into Mr. Starbuck all the time queer, sir queer, queer, very queer. And -here's his leg Yes, now that I think of it, here's his bedfellow has a -stick of whale's jawbone for a wife And this is his leg he'll stand on -this. What was that now about one leg standing in three places, and all -three places standing in one hell how was that? Oh I don't wonder he -looked so scornful at me I'm a sort of strangethoughted -sometimes, they say but that's only haphazardlike. Then, a short, little -old body like me, should never undertake to wade out into deep waters with -tall, heronbuilt captains the water chucks you under the chin pretty quick, -and there's a great cry for lifeboats. And here's the heron's leg long and -slim, sure enough Now, for most folks one pair of legs lasts a lifetime, -and that must be because they use them mercifully, as a tenderhearted old -lady uses her rolypoly old coachhorses. But Ahab oh he's a hard driver. -Look, driven one leg to death, and spavined the other for life, and now wears -out bone legs by the cord. Halloa, there, you Smut bear a hand there with -those screws, and let's finish it before the resurrection fellow comes -acalling with his horn for all legs, true or false, as brewerymen go round -collecting old beer barrels, to fill 'em up again. What a leg this is It -looks like a real live leg, filed down to nothing but the core he'll be -standing on this tomorrow he'll be taking altitudes on it. Halloa I -almost forgot the little oval slate, smoothed ivory, where he figures up the -latitude. So, so chisel, file, and sandpaper, now -According to usage they -were pumping the ship next morning and lo no inconsiderable oil came up -with the water the casks below must have sprung a bad leak. Much concern -was shown and Starbuck went down into the cabin to report this unfavorable -affair. -Now, from the South and West the Pequod was drawing nigh to Formosa and the -Bashee Isles, between which lies one of the tropical outlets from the China -waters into the Pacific. And so Starbuck found Ahab with a general chart of -the oriental archipelagoes spread before him and another separate one -representing the long eastern coasts of the Japanese islands Niphon, -Matsmai, and Sikoke. With his snowwhite new ivory leg braced against the -screwed leg of his table, and with a long pruninghook of a jackknife in his -hand, the wondrous old man, with his back to the gangway door, was wrinkling -his brow, and tracing his old courses again. Who's there? hearing the -footstep at the door, but not turning round to it. On deck Begone -captain ahab mistakes it is I. The oil in the hold is leaking, sir. We -must up Burtons and break out. Up Burtons and break out? Now that we are -nearing Japan heaveto here for a week to tinker a parcel of old hoops? -Either do that, sir, or waste in one day more oil than we may make good in a -year. What we come twenty thousand miles to get is worth saving, sir. So -it is, so it is if we get it. I was speaking of the oil in the hold, -sir. And I was not speaking or thinking of that at all. Begone Let it -leak I'm all aleak myself. Aye leaks in leaks not only full of leaky -casks, but those leaky casks are in a leaky ship and that's a far worse -plight than the Pequod's, man. Yet I don't stop to plug my leak for who can -find it in the deeploaded hull or how hope to plug it, even if found, in -this life's howling gale? Starbuck I'll not have the Burtons hoisted. -What will the owners say, sir? Let the owners stand on Nantucket beach and -outyell the Typhoons. What cares Ahab? Owners, owners? Thou art always -prating to me, Starbuck, about those miserly owners, as if the owners were my -conscience. But look ye, the only real owner of anything is its commander -and hark ye, my conscience is in this ship's keel. On deck Captain -Ahab, said the reddening mate, moving further into the cabin, with a daring -so strangely respectful and cautious that -it almost seemed not only every way seeking to avoid the slightest outward -manifestation of itself, but within also seemed more than half distrustful of -itself A better man than I might well pass over in thee what he would -quickly enough resent in a younger man aye and in a happier, Captain -Ahab. Devils Dost thou then so much as dare to critically think of me? -On deck Nay, sir, not yet I do entreat. And I do dare, sir to be -forbearing Shall we not understand each other better than hitherto, Captain -ahab? ahab seized a loaded musket from the rack forming part of most -SouthSeamen's cabin furniture, and pointing it towards Starbuck, -exclaimed There is one God that is Lord over the earth, and one Captain -that is lord over the Pequod. On deck For an instant in the flashing eyes -of the mate, and his fiery cheeks, you would have almost thought that he had -really received the blaze of the levelled tube. But, mastering his emotion, -he half calmly rose, and as he quitted the cabin, paused for an instant and -said Thou hast outraged, not insulted me, Sir but for that I ask thee not -to beware of Starbuck thou wouldst but laugh but let Ahab beware of Ahab -beware of thyself, old man. He waxes brave, but nevertheless obeys most -careful bravery that murmured Ahab, as Starbuck disappeared. What's that -he said Ahab beware of Ahab there's something there Then unconsciously -using the musket for a staff, with an iron brow he paced to and fro in the -little cabin but presently the thick plaits of his forehead relaxed, and -returning the gun to the rack, he went to the deck. Thou art but too good a -fellow, Starbuck, he said lowly to the mate then raising his voice to the -crew Furl the t'gallantsails and closereef the topsails, fore and aft -back the mainyard up Burtons, and break out in the mainhold. It were -perhaps vain to surmise exactly why it was, that as respecting Starbuck, -Ahab thus acted. It may have been a flash of honesty in him or mere -prudential policy which, under the circumstance, imperiously forbade the -slightest symptom of open disaffection, however transient, in the important -chief -officer of his ship. However it was, his orders were executed and the -Burtons were hoisted. -In Spermwhalemen with any considerable quantity of oil on board, it is a -regular semiweekly duty to conduct a hose into the hold, and drench the -casks with seawater which afterwards, at varying intervals, is removed by -the ship's pumps. Hereby the casks are sought to be kept damply tight while -by the changed character of the withdrawn water, the mariners readily detect -any serious leakage in the precious cargo. -We had lain thus in bed, chatting and -napping at short intervals, and Queequeg now and then affectionately throwing -his brown tattooed legs over mine, and then drawing them back so entirely -sociable and free and easy were we when, at last, by reason of our -confabulations, what little nappishness remained in us altogether departed, -and we felt like getting up again, though daybreak was yet some way down the -future. Yes, we became very wakeful so much so that our recumbent -position began to grow wearisome, and by little and little we found ourselves -sitting up the clothes well tucked around us, leaning against the -headboard with our four knees drawn up close together, and our two noses -bending over them, as if our kneepans were warmingpans. We felt very nice -and snug, the more so since it was so chilly out of doors indeed out of -bedclothes too, seeing that there was no fire in the room. The more so, I -say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be -cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by -contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all -over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to -be comfortable any more. But if, like Queequeg and me in the bed, the tip -of your nose or the crown of your head be slightly chilled, why then, indeed, -in the general consciousness you feel most delightfully and unmistakably warm. -For this reason a sleeping apartment should never be furnished with a fire, -which is one of the luxurious discomforts of the rich. For the height of -this sort of deliciousness is to have nothing but the blanket between you and -your snugness and the cold of the outer air. Then there you lie like the one -warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal. We had been sitting in this -crouching manner for some time, when all at once I thought I would open my -eyes for when between sheets, whether by day or by night, and whether -asleep or awake, I have a way of always keeping my eyes shut, in order the -more to concentrate the snugness of being in bed. Because no man can ever -feel his own identity aright except his eyes be closed as if darkness were -indeed the proper element of our essences, though light be more congenial to -our clayey part. Upon opening my eyes then, and coming out of my own pleasant -and selfcreated darkness into the imposed and coarse outer gloom of the -unilluminated twelveo'clockatnight, I experienced a disagreeable -revulsion. Nor did I at all object to the hint from Queequeg that perhaps it -were best to strike a light, seeing that we were so wide awake and besides -he felt a strong desire to have a few quiet puffs from his Tomahawk. Be it -said, that though I had felt such a strong repugnance to his smoking in -the bed the night before, yet see how elastic our stiff prejudices grow when -love once comes to bend them. For now I liked nothing better than to have -Queequeg smoking by me, even in bed, because he seemed to be full of such -serene household joy then. I no more felt unduly concerned for the landlord's -policy of insurance. I was only alive to the condensed confidential -comfortableness of sharing a pipe and a blanket with a real friend. With our -shaggy jackets drawn about our shoulders, we now passed the Tomahawk from one -to the other, till slowly there grew over us a blue hanging tester of smoke, -illuminated by the flame of the newlit lamp. Whether it was that this -undulating tester rolled the savage away to far distant scenes, I know not, -but he now spoke of his native island and, eager to hear his history, I -begged him to go on and tell it. He gladly complied. Though at the time I -but ill comprehended not a few of his words, yet subsequent disclosures, -when I had become more familiar with his broken phraseology, now enable me to -present the whole story such as it may prove in the mere skeleton I give. -Upon searching, it was found -that the casks last struck into the hold were perfectly sound, and that the -leak must be further off. So, it being calm weather, they broke out deeper -and deeper, disturbing the slumbers of the huge groundtier butts and from -that black midnight sending those gigantic moles into the daylight above. So -deep did they go and so ancient, and corroded, and weedy the aspect of the -lowermost puncheons, that you almost looked next for some mouldy cornerstone -cask containing coins of Captain Noah, with copies of the posted placards, -vainly warning the infatuated old world from the flood. Tierce after tierce, -too, of water, and bread, and beef, and shooks of staves, and iron bundles of -hoops, were hoisted out, till at last the piled decks were hard to get -about and the hollow hull echoed under foot, as if you were treading over -empty catacombs, and reeled and rolled in the sea like an airfreighted -demijohn. Topheavy was the ship as a dinnerless student with all Aristotle -in his head. Well was it that the Typhoons did not visit them then. Now, at -this time it was that my poor pagan companion, and fast bosomfriend, -Queequeg, was seized with a fever, which brought him nigh to his endless end. -Be it said, that in this vocation of whaling, sinecures are unknown -dignity and danger go hand in hand till you get to be Captain, the higher -you rise the harder you toil. So with poor Queequeg, who, as harpooneer, -must not only face all the rage of the living whale, but as we have -elsewhere seen mount his dead back in a rolling sea and finally descend -into the gloom of the hold, and bitterly sweating all day in that -subterraneous confinement, resolutely manhandle the clumsiest casks and see -to their stowage. To be short, among whalemen, the harpooneers are the -holders, so called. Poor Queequeg when the ship was about half -disembowelled, you should have stooped over the hatchway, and peered down -upon him there where, stripped to his woollen drawers, the tattooed savage -was crawling about amid that dampness and slime, like a green spotted lizard -at the bottom of a well. And a well, or an icehouse, it somehow proved to -him, poor pagan where, strange to say, for all the heat of his sweatings, -he caught a terrible chill which lapsed into a fever and at last, after some -days' suffering, laid him in his hammock, close to the very sill of the door -of death. How he wasted and wasted away in those few longlingering days, -till there seemed but little left of him but his frame and tattooing. But as -all else in him thinned, and his cheekbones grew sharper, his eyes, -nevertheless, seemed growing fuller and fuller they became of a strange -softness of lustre and mildly but deeply looked out at you there from his -sickness, a wondrous testimony to that immortal health in him which could not -die, or be weakened. And like circles on the water, which, as they grow -fainter, expand so his eyes seemed rounding and rounding, like the rings of -Eternity. An awe that cannot be named would steal over you as you sat by the -side of this waning savage, and saw as strange things in his face, as any -beheld who were bystanders when Zoroaster died. For whatever is truly -wondrous and fearful in man, never yet was put into words or books. And the -drawing near of Death, which alike levels all, alike impresses all with a -last revelation, which only an author from the dead could adequately tell. So -that let us say it again no dying Chaldee or Greek had higher and holier -thoughts than those, whose mysterious shades you saw creeping over the face -of poor Queequeg, as he quietly lay in his swaying hammock, and the rolling -sea seemed gently rocking him to his final rest, and the ocean's invisible -floodtide lifted him higher and higher towards his destined heaven. Not a -man of the crew but gave him up and, as for Queequeg himself, what he -thought of his case was forcibly shown by a curious favor he asked. He called -one to him in the grey -morning watch, when the day was just breaking, and taking his hand, said -that while in Nantucket he had chanced to see certain little canoes of dark -wood, like the rich warwood of his native isle and upon inquiry, he had -learned that all whalemen who died in Nantucket, were laid in those same -dark canoes, and that the fancy of being so laid had much pleased him for -it was not unlike the custom of his own race, who, after embalming a dead -warrior, stretched him out in his canoe, and so left him to be floated away -to the starry archipelagoes for not only do they believe that the stars are -isles, but that far beyond all visible horizons, their own mild, -uncontinented seas, interflow with the blue heavens and so form the white -breakers of the milky way. He added, that he shuddered at the thought of -being buried in his hammock, according to the usual seacustom, tossed like -something vile to the deathdevouring sharks. No he desired a canoe like -those of Nantucket, all the more congenial to him, being a whaleman, that -like a whaleboat these coffincanoes were without a keel though that -involved but uncertain steering, and much leeway adown the dim ages. Now, -when this strange circumstance was made known aft, the carpenter was at once -commanded to do Queequeg's bidding, whatever it might include. There was some -heathenish, coffincolored old lumber aboard, which, upon a long previous -voyage, had been cut from the aboriginal groves of the Lackaday islands, and -from these dark planks the coffin was recommended to be made. No sooner was -the carpenter apprised of the order, than taking his rule, he forthwith with -all the indifferent promptitude of his character, proceeded into the -forecastle and took Queequeg's measure with great accuracy, regularly -chalking Queequeg's person as he shifted the rule. Ah poor fellow he'll -have to die now, ejaculated the Long Island sailor. Going to his -vicebench, the carpenter for convenience' sake and general reference, now -transferringly measured on it the exact length the coffin was to be, and then -made the transfer permanent by cutting two notches at its extremities. This -done, he marshalled the planks and his tools, and to work. -When the last nail was driven, and the lid duly planed and fitted, he -lightly shouldered the coffin and went forward with it, inquiring whether they -were ready for it yet in that direction. Overhearing the indignant but -halfhumorous cries with which the people on deck began to drive the coffin -away, Queequeg, to every one's consternation, commanded that the thing should -be instantly brought to him, nor was there any denying him seeing that, of -all mortals, some dying men are the most tyrannical and certainly, since they -will shortly trouble us so little for evermore, the poor fellows ought to be -indulged. Leaning over in his hammock, Queequeg long regarded the coffin -with an attentive eye. He then called for his harpoon, had the wooden stock -drawn from it, and then had the iron part placed in the coffin along with one -of the paddles of his boat. All by his own request, also, biscuits were -then ranged round the sides within a flask of fresh water was placed at the -head, and a small bag of woody earth scraped up in the hold at the foot and -a piece of sailcloth being rolled up for a pillow, Queequeg now entreated to -be lifted into his final bed, that he might make trial of its comforts, if -any it had. He lay without moving a few minutes, then told one to go to his -bag and bring out his little god, Yojo. Then crossing his arms on his breast -with Yojo between, he called for the coffin lid hatch he called it to be -placed over him. The head part turned over with a leather hinge, and there -lay Queequeg in his coffin with little but his composed countenance in view. -Rarmai it will do it is easy, he murmured at last, and signed to be -replaced in his hammock. But ere this was done, Pip, who had been slily -hovering near by all this while, drew nigh to him where he lay, and with -soft sobbings, took him by the hand in the other, holding his tambourine. -Poor rover will ye never have done with all this weary roving? Where go ye -now? But if the currents carry ye to those sweet Antilles where the beaches -are only beat with waterlilies, will ye do one little errand for me? Seek -out one Pip, who's now been missing long I think he's in those far -Antilles. If ye find him, then comfort him for he must be very sad for -look -he's left his tambourine behind I found it. Rigadig, dig, dig Now, -Queequeg, die and I'll beat ye your dying march. I have heard, murmured -Starbuck, gazing down the scuttle, that in violent fevers, men, all -ignorance, have talked in ancient tongues and that when the mystery is -probed, it turns out always that in their wholly forgotten childhood those -ancient tongues had been really spoken in their hearing by some lofty -scholars. So, to my fond faith, poor Pip, in this strange sweetness of his -lunacy, brings heavenly vouchers of all our heavenly homes. Where learned he -that, but there? Hark he speaks again but more wildly now. Form two -and two Let's make a General of him Ho, where's his harpoon? Lay it -across here. Rigadig, dig, dig huzza Oh for a game cock now to sit upon -his head and crow queequeg dies game mind ye that queequeg dies game -take ye good heed of that Queequeg dies game I say game, game, game -but base little Pip, he died a coward died all a'shiver out upon Pip -Hark ye if ye find Pip, tell all the Antilles he's a runaway a coward, a -coward, a coward Tell them he jumped from a whaleboat I'd never beat my -tambourine over base Pip, and hail him General, if he were once more dying -here. No, no shame upon all cowards shame upon them Let 'em go drown -like Pip, that jumped from a whaleboat. Shame shame During all this, -Queequeg lay with closed eyes, as if in a dream. Pip was led away, and the -sick man was replaced in his hammock. But now that he had apparently made -every preparation for death now that his coffin was proved a good fit, -Queequeg suddenly rallied soon there seemed no need of the carpenter's box -and thereupon, when some expressed their delighted surprise, he, in -substance, said, that the cause of his sudden convalescence was this at a -critical moment, he had just recalled a little duty ashore, which he was -leaving undone and therefore had changed his mind about dying he could not -die yet, he averred. They asked him, then, whether to live or die was a -matter of his own sovereign will and pleasure. He answered, certainly. In a -word, it was Queequeg's conceit, that if a man -made up his mind to live, mere sickness could not kill him nothing but a -whale, or a gale, or some violent, ungovernable, unintelligent destroyer of -that sort. Now, there is this noteworthy difference between savage and -civilized that while a sick, civilized man may be six months convalescing, -generally speaking, a sick savage is almost halfwell again in a day. So, in -good time my Queequeg gained strength and at length after sitting on the -windlass for a few indolent days but eating with a vigorous appetite he -suddenly leaped to his feet, threw out arms and legs, gave himself a good -stretching, yawned a little bit, and then springing into the head of his -hoisted boat, and poising a harpoon, pronounced himself fit for a fight. -With a wild whimsiness, he now used his coffin for a seachest and emptying -into it his canvas bag of clothes, set them in order there. Many spare hours -he spent, in carving the lid with all manner of grotesque figures and -drawings and it seemed that hereby he was striving, in his rude way, to copy -parts of the twisted tattooing on his body. And this tattooing, had been the -work of a departed prophet and seer of his island, who, by those hieroglyphic -marks, had written out on his body a complete theory of the heavens and the -earth, and a mystical treatise on the art of attaining truth so that -Queequeg in his own proper person was a riddle to unfold a wondrous work in -one volume but whose mysteries not even himself could read, though his own -live heart beat against them and these mysteries were therefore destined in -the end to moulder away with the living parchment whereon they were inscribed, -and so be unsolved to the last. And this thought it must have been which -suggested to Ahab that wild exclamation of his, when one morning turning away -from surveying poor Queequeg Oh, devilish tantalization of the gods -When gliding by the Bashee isles we emerged -at last upon the great South Sea were it not for other things, I could have -greeted my dear Pacific with uncounted thanks, for now the long supplication -of my youth was answered that serene ocean rolled eastwards from me a -thousand leagues of blue. There is, one knows not what sweet mystery about -this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul -beneath like those fabled undulations of the Ephesian sod over the buried -Evangelist St. John. And meet it is, that over these seapastures, -widerolling watery prairies and Potters' Fields of all four continents, the -waves should rise and fall, and ebb and flow unceasingly for here, millions -of mixed shades and shadows, drowned dreams, somnambulisms, reveries all -that we call lives and souls, lie dreaming, dreaming, still tossing like -slumberers in their beds the everrolling waves but made so by their -restlessness. To any meditative Magian rover, this serene Pacific, once -beheld, must ever after be the sea of his adoption. It rolls the midmost -waters of the world, the Indian ocean and Atlantic being but its arms. The -same waves wash the moles of the newbuilt Californian towns, but yesterday -planted by the recentest race of men, and lave the faded but still gorgeous -skirts of Asiatic lands, older than Abraham while all between float -milkyways of coral isles, and lowlying, endless, unknown Archipelagoes, and -impenetrable Japans. Thus this mysterious, divine Pacific zones the world's -whole bulk about makes all coasts one bay to it seems the tidebeating -heart of earth. Lifted by those eternal swells, you needs must own the -seductive god, bowing your head to Pan. But few thoughts of Pan stirred -Ahab's brain, as standing like an iron statue at his accustomed place beside -the mizen -rigging, with one nostril he unthinkingly snuffed the sugary musk from the -Bashee isles in whose sweet woods mild lovers must be walking, and with -the other consciously inhaled the salt breath of the new found sea that sea -in which the hated White Whale must even then be swimming. Launched at length -upon these almost final waters, and gliding towards the Japanese -cruisingground, the old man's purpose intensified itself. His firm lips met -like the lips of a vice the Delta of his forehead's veins swelled like -overladen brooks in his very sleep, his ringing cry ran through the vaulted -hull, Stern all the White Whale spouts thick blood -The blacksmith availing himself of the mild, -summercool weather that now reigned in these latitudes, and in preparation -for the peculiarly active pursuits shortly to be anticipated, Perth, the -begrimed, blistered old blacksmith, had not removed his portable forge to -the hold again, after concluding his contributory work for Ahab's leg, but -still retained it on deck, fast lashed to ringbolts by the foremast being -now almost incessantly invoked by the headsmen, and harpooneers, and bowsmen -to do some little job for them altering, or repairing, or new shaping their -various weapons and boat furniture. Often he would be surrounded by an eager -circle, all waiting to be served holding boatspades, pikeheads, harpoons, -and lances, and jealously watching his every sooty movement, as he toiled. -Nevertheless, this old man's was a patient hammer wielded by a patient arm. -No murmur, no impatience, no petulence did come from him. Silent, slow, and -solemn bowing over still further his chronically broken back, he toiled -away, as if toil were life itself, and the heavy beating of his hammer the -heavy beating of his heart. And so it was. Most miserable -A peculiar walk in this old man, a certain slight but painful appearing yawing -in his gait, had at an early period of the voyage excited the curiosity of -the mariners. And to the importunity of their persisted questionings he had -finally given in and so it came to pass that every one now knew the shameful -story of his wretched fate. Belated, and not innocently, one bitter winter's -midnight, on the road running between two country towns, the blacksmith -halfstupidly felt the deadly numbness stealing over him, and sought refuge -in a leaning, dilapidated barn. The issue was, the loss of the extremities of -both feet. Out of this revelation, part by part, at last came out the four -acts of the gladness, and the one long, and as yet uncatastrophied fifth act -of the grief of his life's drama. He was an old man, who, at the age of -nearly sixty, had postponedly encountered that thing in sorrow's technicals -called ruin. He had been an artisan of famed excellence, and with plenty to -do owned a house and garden embraced a youthful, daughterlike, loving -wife, and three blithe, ruddy children every Sunday went to a -cheerfullooking church, planted in a grove. But one night, under cover of -darkness, and further concealed in a most cunning disguisement, a desperate -burglar slid into his happy home, and robbed them all of everything. And -darker yet to tell, the blacksmith himself did ignorantly conduct this -burglar into his family's heart. It was the Bottle Conjuror Upon the opening -of that fatal cork, forth flew the fiend, and shrivelled up his home. Now, -for prudent, most wise, and economic reasons, the blacksmith's shop was in the -basement of his dwelling, but with a separate entrance to it so that always -had the young and loving healthy wife listened with no unhappy nervousness, -but with vigorous pleasure, to the stout ringing of her youngarmed old -husband's hammer whose reverberations, muffled by passing through the floors -and walls, came up to her, not unsweetly, in her nursery and so, to stout -Labor's iron lullaby, the blacksmith's infants were rocked to slumber. Oh, -woe on woe Oh, Death, why canst thou not sometimes be timely? Hadst thou -taken this old blacksmith to thyself ere his full ruin came upon him, then -had the young widow had a -delicious grief, and her orphans a truly venerable, legendary sire to dream -of in their after years and all of them a carekilling competency. But -Death plucked down some virtuous elder brother, on whose whistling daily toil -solely hung the responsibilities of some other family, and left the worse -than useless old man standing, till the hideous rot of life should make him -easier to harvest. Why tell the whole? The blows of the basement hammer -every day grew more and more between and each blow every day grew fainter -than the last the wife sat frozen at the window, with tearless eyes, -glitteringly gazing into the weeping faces of her children the bellows fell -the forge choked up with cinders the house was sold the mother dived down -into the long churchyard grass her children twice followed her thither -and the houseless, familyless old man staggered off a vagabond in crape his -every woe unreverenced his grey head a scorn to flaxen curls Death seems -the only desirable sequel for a career like this but Death is only a -launching into the region of the strange Untried it is but the first -salutation to the possibilities of the immense Remote, the Wild, the Watery, -the Unshored therefore, to the deathlonging eyes of such men, who still -have left in them some interior compunctions against suicide, does the -allcontributed and allreceptive ocean alluringly spread forth his whole -plain of unimaginable, taking terrors, and wonderful, newlife adventures -and from the hearts of infinite Pacifics, the thousand mermaids sing to them -Come hither, brokenhearted here is another life without the guilt of -intermediate death here are wonders supernatural, without dying for them. -Come hither bury thyself in a life which, to your now equally abhorred and -abhorring, landed world, is more oblivious than death. Come hither put up -thy gravestone, too, within the churchyard, and come hither, till we marry -thee Hearkening to these voices, East and West, by early sunrise, and by -fall of eve, the blacksmith's soul responded, Aye, I come And so Perth -went awhaling. -With matted beard, and swathed in a -bristling sharkskin apron, about midday, Perth was standing between his -forge and anvil, the latter placed upon an ironwood log, with one hand -holding a pikehead in the coals, and with the other at his forge's lungs, -when captain ahab came along, carrying in his hand a small rustylooking -leathern bag. While yet a little distance from the forge, moody Ahab paused -till at last, Perth, withdrawing his iron from the fire, began hammering it -upon the anvil the red mass sending off the sparks in thick hovering -flights, some of which flew close to Ahab. Are these thy Mother Carey's -chickens, Perth? they are always flying in thy wake birds of good omen, -too, but not to all look here, they burn but thouthou liv'st among them -without a scorch. Because I am scorched all over, Captain Ahab, answered -Perth, resting for a moment on his hammer I am past scorching not easily -can'st thou scorch a scar. Well, well no more. Thy shrunk voice sounds -too calmly, sanely woful to me. In no Paradise myself, I am impatient of -all misery in others that is not mad. Thou should'st go mad, blacksmith -say, why dost thou not go mad? How can'st thou endure without being mad? Do -the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can'st not go mad? What wert thou -making there? Welding an old pikehead, sir there were seams and dents in -it. And can'st thou make it all smooth, again, blacksmith, after such hard -usage as it had? I think so, sir. And I suppose thou can'st smoothe -almost any seams and dents never mind how hard the metal, blacksmith? -Aye, sir, I think I can all seams and dents but one. -Look ye here, then, cried Ahab, passionately advancing, and leaning with -both hands on Perth's shoulders look ye here here can ye smoothe out a -seam like this, blacksmith, sweeping one hand across his ribbed browif -thou could'st, blacksmith, glad enough would I lay my head upon thy anvil, -and feel thy heaviest hammer between my eyes. Answer Can'st thou smoothe -this seam? Oh that is the one, sir Said I not all seams and dents but -one? aye, blacksmith, it is the one aye, man, it is unsmoothable for -though thou only see'st it here in my flesh, it has worked down into the bone -of my skull that is all wrinkles But, away with child's play no more -gaffs and pikes today. Look ye here jingling the leathern bag, as if it -were full of gold coins. I, too, want a harpoon made one that a thousand -yoke of fiends could not part, Perth something that will stick in a whale -like his own finbone. There's the stuff, flinging the pouch upon the -anvil. Look ye, blacksmith, these are the gathered nailstubbs of the steel -shoes of racing horses. Horseshoe stubbs, sir? Why, Captain Ahab, thou -hast here, then, the best and stubbornest stuff we blacksmiths ever work. I -know it, old man these stubbs will weld together like glue from the melted -bones of murderers. Quick forge me the harpoon. And forge me first, twelve -rods for its shank then wind, and twist, and hammer these twelve together -like the yarns and strands of a towline. Quick I'll blow the fire. When -at last the twelve rods were made, Ahab tried them, one by one, by spiralling -them, with his own hand, round a long, heavy iron bolt. A flaw rejecting -the last one. Work that over again, Perth. This done, Perth was about to -begin welding the twelve into one, when Ahab stayed his hand, and said he -would weld his own iron. As, then, with regular, gasping hems, he hammered -on the anvil, Perth passing to him the glowing rods, one after the other, -and the hard pressed forge shooting up its intense straight flame, the Parsee -passed silently, and bowing over his head towards the fire, seemed invoking -some curse or some blessing on the toil. But, as Ahab looked up, he slid -aside. -What's that bunch of lucifers dodging about there for? muttered Stubb, -looking on from the forecastle. That Parsee smells fire like a fusee and -smells of it himself, like a hot musket's powderpan. At last the shank, in -one complete rod, received its final heat and as perth, to temper it, plunged -it all hissing into the cask of water near by, the scalding steam shot up -into Ahab's bent face. Would'st thou brand me, Perth? wincing for a moment -with the pain have I been but forging my own brandingiron, then? Pray -God, not that yet I fear something, Captain Ahab. Is not this harpoon for -the White Whale? For the white fiend But now for the barbs thou must -make them thyself, man. Here are my razors the best of steel here, and make -the barbs sharp as the needlesleet of the Icy Sea. For a moment, the old -blacksmith eyed the razors as though he would fain not use them. Take them, -man, I have no need for them for I now neither shave, sup, nor pray till -but here to work Fashioned at last into an arrowy shape, and welded by -Perth to the shank, the steel soon pointed the end of the iron and as the -blacksmith was about giving the barbs their final heat, prior to tempering -them, he cried to Ahab to place the watercask near. No, no no water for -that I want it of the true deathtemper. Ahoy, there Tashtego, Queequeg, -Daggoo What say ye, pagans Will ye give me as much blood as will cover -this barb? holding it high up. A cluster of dark nods replied, Yes. Three -punctures were made in the heathen flesh, and the White Whale's barbs were -then tempered. Ego non baptizo te in nomine patris, sed in nomine diaboli -deliriously howled Ahab, as the malignant iron scorchingly devoured the -baptismal blood. Now, mustering the spare poles from below, and selecting one -of hickory, with the bark still investing it, Ahab fitted the end to the -socket of the iron. A coil of new towline was then unwound, and some fathoms -of it taken to the windlass, and -stretched to a great tension. Pressing his foot upon it, till the rope -hummed like a harpstring, then eagerly bending over it, and seeing no -strandings, ahab exclaimed, good and now for the seizings. At one -extremity the rope was unstranded, and the separate spread yarns were all -braided and woven round the socket of the harpoon the pole was then driven -hard up into the socket from the lower end the rope was traced half way along -the pole's length, and firmly secured so, with intertwistings of twine. -This done, pole, iron, and rope like the Three Fates remained inseparable, -and Ahab moodily stalked away with the weapon the sound of his ivory leg, -and the sound of the hickory pole, both hollowly ringing along every plank. -But ere he entered his cabin, a light, unnatural, halfbantering, yet most -piteous sound was heard. Oh, Pip thy wretched laugh, thy idle but -unresting eye all thy strange mummeries not unmeaningly blended with the -black tragedy of the melancholy ship, and mocked it -Penetrating further and further into the -heart of the Japanese cruising ground, the Pequod was soon all astir in the -fishery. Often, in mild, pleasant weather, for twelve, fifteen, eighteen, -and twenty hours on the stretch, they were engaged in the boats, steadily -pulling, or sailing, or paddling after the whales, or for an interlude of -sixty or seventy minutes calmly awaiting their uprising though with but -small success for their pains. At such times, under an abated sun afloat -all day upon smooth, slow heaving swells seated in his boat, light as a -birch canoe and so sociably mixing with the soft waves themselves, that -like hearthstone cats they purr against the gunwale these are the times of -dreamy quietude, when beholding the tranquil -beauty and brilliancy of the ocean's skin, one forgets the tiger heart that -pants beneath it and would not willingly remember, that this velvet paw but -conceals a remorseless fang. These are the times, when in his whaleboat the -rover softly feels a certain filial, confident, landlike feeling towards the -sea that he regards it as so much flowery earth and the distant ship -revealing only the tops of her masts, seems struggling forward, not though -high rolling waves, but through the tall grass of a rolling prairie as when -the western emigrants' horses only show their erected ears, while their -hidden bodies widely wade through the amazing verdure. The longdrawn virgin -vales the mild blue hillsides as over these there steals the hush, the -hum you almost swear that playwearied children lie sleeping in these -solitudes, in some glad Maytime, when the flowers of the woods are plucked. -And all this mixes with your most mystic mood so that fact and fancy, -halfway meeting, interpenetrate, and form one seamless whole. Nor did such -soothing scenes, however temporary, fail of at least as temporary an effect on -Ahab. But if these secret golden keys did seem to open in him his own secret -golden treasuries, yet did his breath upon them prove but tarnishing. Oh, -grassy glades oh, ever vernal endless landscapes in the soul in ye, -though long parched by the dead drought of the earthy life, in ye, men yet -may roll, like young horses in new morning clover and for some few fleeting -moments, feel the cool dew of the life immortal on them. Would to God these -blessed calms would last. But the mingled, mingling threads of life are woven -by warp and woof calms crossed by storms, a storm for every calm. There is -no steady unretracing progress in this life we do not advance through fixed -gradations, and at the last one pause through infancy's unconscious spell, -boyhood's thoughtless faith, adolescence' doubt the common doom, then -scepticism, then disbelief, resting at last in manhood's pondering repose of -If. But once gone through, we trace the round again and are infants, boys, -and men, and Ifs eternally. Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no -more? in what rapt ether sails the world, of which the weariest will -never weary? Where is the foundling's father hidden? Our souls are like -those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them the secret of our -paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it. And that same -day, too, gazing far down from his boat's side into that same golden sea, -Starbuck lowly murmured Loveliness unfathomable, as ever lover saw in his -young bride's eye Tell me not of thy teethtiered sharks, and thy -kidnapping cannibal ways. Let faith oust fact let fancy oust memory I -look deep down and do believe. And Stubb, fishlike, with sparkling scales, -leaped up in that same golden light I am Stubb, and Stubb has his -history but here Stubb takes oaths that he has always been jolly -And jolly enough were -the sights and the sounds that came bearing down before the wind, some few -weeks after Ahab's harpoon had been welded. It was a Nantucket ship, the -Bachelor, which had just wedged in her last cask of oil, and bolted down her -bursting hatches and now, in glad holiday apparel, was joyously, though -somewhat vaingloriously, sailing round among the widelyseparated ships on -the ground, previous to pointing her prow for home. The three men at her -masthead wore long streamers of narrow red bunting at their hats from the -stern, a whaleboat was suspended, bottom down and hanging captive from the -bowsprit was seen the long lower jaw of the last whale they had slain. -Signals, ensigns, and jacks of all colors were flying from her rigging, on -every side. Sideways lashed in each of her three basketed tops were two -barrels of sperm above which, in her topmast crosstrees, you saw slender -breakers of the -same precious fluid and nailed to her main truck was a brazen lamp. As was -afterwards learned, the bachelor had met with the most surprising success -all the more wonderful, for that while cruising in the same seas numerous -other vessels had gone entire months without securing a single fish. Not only -had barrels of beef and bread been given away to make room for the far more -valuable sperm, but additional supplemental casks had been bartered for, -from the ships she had met and these were stowed along the deck, and in the -captain's and officers' staterooms. Even the cabin table itself had been -knocked into kindlingwood and the cabin mess dined off the broad head of -an oilbutt, lashed down to the floor for a centrepiece. In the forecastle, -the sailors had actually caulked and pitched their chests, and filled them -it was humorously added, that the cook had clapped a head on his largest -boiler, and filled it that the steward had plugged his spare coffeepot and -filled it that the harpooneers had headed the sockets of their irons and -filled them that indeed everything was filled with sperm, except the -captain's pantaloons pockets, and those he reserved to thrust his hands into, -in selfcomplacent testimony of his entire satisfaction. As this glad ship of -good luck bore down upon the moody Pequod, the barbarian sound of enormous -drums came from her forecastle and drawing still nearer, a crowd of her men -were seen standing round her huge trypots, which, covered with the -parchmentlike poke or stomach skin of the black fish, gave forth a loud roar -to every stroke of the clenched hands of the crew. On the quarterdeck, the -mates and harpooneers were dancing with the olivehued girls who had eloped -with them from the Polynesian Isles while suspended in an ornamented boat, -firmly secured aloft between the foremast and mainmast, three Long Island -negroes, with glittering fiddlebows of whale ivory, were presiding over the -hilarious jig. Meanwhile, others of the ship's company were tumultuously busy -at the masonry of the tryworks, from which the huge pots had been removed. -You would have almost thought they were pulling down the cursed Bastile, such -wild cries they raised, as the now useless brick and mortar were being hurled -into the sea. -Lord and master over all this scene, the captain stood erect on the ship's -elevated quarterdeck, so that the whole rejoicing drama was full before him, -and seemed merely contrived for his own individual diversion. And Ahab, he -too was standing on his quarterdeck, shaggy and black, with a stubborn -gloom and as the two ships crossed each other's wakes one all jubilations -for things passed, the other all forebodings as to things to come their two -captains in themselves impersonated the whole striking contrast of the scene. -Come aboard, come aboard cried the gay Bachelor's commander, lifting a -glass and a bottle in the air. Hast seen the White Whale? gritted Ahab in -reply. No only heard of him but don't believe in him at all, said the -other goodhumoredly. Come aboard Thou are too damned jolly. Sail on. -Hast lost any men? Not enough to speak of two islanders, that's all but -come aboard, old hearty, come along. I'll soon take that black from your -brow. Come along, will ye merry's the play a full ship and -homewardbound. How wondrous familiar is a fool muttered Ahab then -aloud, Thou art a full ship and homeward bound, thou sayest well, then, -call me an empty ship, and outwardbound. So go thy ways, and I will mine. -Forward there Set all sail, and keep her to the wind And thus, while the -one ship went cheerily before the breeze, the other stubbornly fought against -it and so the two vessels parted the crew of the Pequod looking with -grave, lingering glances towards the receding Bachelor but the Bachelor's -men never heeding their gaze for the lively revelry they were in. And as -Ahab, leaning over the taffrail, eyed the homewardbound craft, he took from -his pocket a small vial of sand, and then looking from the ship to the vial, -seemed thereby bringing two remote associations together, for that vial was -filled with Nantucket soundings. -Not seldom in this life, when, on the -right side, fortune's favorites sail close by us, we, though all adroop -before, catch somewhat of the rushing breeze, and joyfully feel our bagging -sails fill out. So seemed it with the Pequod. For next day after -encountering the gay Bachelor, whales were seen and four were slain and one -of them by Ahab. It was far down the afternoon and when all the spearings of -the crimson fight were done and floating in the lovely sunset sea and sky, -sun and whale both stilly died together then, such a sweetness and such -plaintiveness, such inwreathing orisons curled up in that rosy air, that it -almost seemed as if far over from the deep green convent valleys of the -Manilla isles, the Spanish landbreeze, wantonly turned sailor, had gone to -sea, freighted with these vesper hymns. Soothed again, but only soothed to -deeper gloom, Ahab, who had sterned off from the whale, sat intently -watching his final wanings from the now tranquil boat. For that strange -spectacle observable in all sperm whales dying the turning sunwards of the -head, and so expiring that strange spectacle, beheld of such a placid -evening, somehow to Ahab conveyed a wondrousness unknown before. He turns -and turns him to it, how slowly, but how steadfastly, his homagerendering -and invoking brow, with his last dying motions. He too worships fire most -faithful, broad, baronial vassal of the sun Oh that these toofavoring eyes -should see these toofavoring sights. Look here, far waterlocked beyond -all hum of human weal or woe in these most candid and impartial seas where -to traditions no rocks furnish tablets where for long Chinese ages, the -billows have still rolled on speechless and unspoken to, as stars that shine -upon the Niger's unknown source here, too, life dies sunwards full of -faith but see no sooner dead, than death whirls round the corpse, and it -heads some other way. Oh, thou dark Hindoo half of nature, who of drowned -bones hast builded thy separate throne somewhere in the heart of these -unverdured seas thou art an infidel, thou queen, and too truly speakest to -me in the wideslaughtering Typhoon, and the hushed burial of its after calm. -Nor has this thy whale sunwards turned his dying head, and then gone round -again, without a lesson to me. Oh, trebly hooped and welded hip of power -Oh, high aspiring, rainbowed jet that one strivest, this one jettest all in -vain In vain, oh whale, dost thou seek intercedings with yon -allquickening sun, that only calls forth life, but gives it not again. Yet -dost thou, darker half, rock me with a prouder, if a darker faith. All thy -unnamable imminglings, float beneath me here I am buoyed by breaths of once -living things, exhaled as air, but water now. Then hail, for ever hail, O -sea, in whose eternal tossings the wild fowl finds his only rest. Born of -earth, yet suckled by the sea though hill and valley mothered me, ye -billows are my fosterbrothers -The four whales slain that evening -had died wide apart one, far to windward one, less distant, to leeward -one ahead one astern. These last three were brought alongside ere -nightfall but the windward one could not be reached till morning and the -boat that had killed it lay by its side all night and that boat was Ahab's. -The waifpole was thrust upright into the dead whale's spouthole and the -lantern hanging from its top, cast a troubled flickering glare upon the -black, glossy back, and far out upon the -midnight waves, which gently chafed the whale's broad flank, like soft surf -upon a beach. Ahab and all his boat's crew seemed asleep but the Parsee who -crouching in the bow, sat watching the sharks, that spectrally played round -the whale, and tapped the light cedar planks with their tails. A sound like -the moaning in squadrons over Asphaltites of unforgiven ghosts of Gomorrah, -ran shuddering through the air. Started from his slumbers, Ahab, face to -face, saw the Parsee and hooped round by the gloom of the night they seemed -the last men in a flooded world. I have dreamed it again, said he. Of the -hearses? Have I not said, old man, that neither hearse nor coffin can be -thine? And who are hearsed that die on the sea? But I said, old man, that -ere thou couldst die on this voyage, two hearses must verily be seen by thee -on the sea the first not made by mortal hands and the visible wood of the -last one must be grown in America. Aye, aye a strange sight that, Parsee -a hearse and its plumes floating over the ocean with the waves for the -pallbearers. Ha Such a sight we shall not soon see. Believe it or not, -thou canst not die till it be seen, old man. And what was that saying about -thyself? Though it come to the last, I shall still go before thee thy -pilot. And when thou art so gone before if that ever befall then ere I -can follow, thou must still appear to me, to pilot me still? Was it not so? -Well, then, did I believe all ye say, oh my pilot I have here two pledges -that I shall yet slay Moby Dick and survive it. Take another pledge, old -man, said the Parsee, as his eyes lighted up like fireflies in the gloom, -Hemp only can kill thee. The gallows, ye mean. I am immortal then, on -land and on sea, cried Ahab, with a laugh of derision Immortal on land -and on sea Both were silent again, as one man. The grey dawn came on, and -the slumbering crew arose from the boat's bottom, and ere noon the dead whale -was brought to the ship. -The season for the Line at length drew -near and every day when Ahab, coming from his cabin, cast his eyes aloft, -the vigilant helmsman would ostentatiously handle his spokes, and the eager -mariners quickly run to the braces, and would stand there with all their eyes -centrally fixed on the nailed doubloon impatient for the order to point the -ship's prow for the equator. In good time the order came. It was hard upon -high noon and Ahab, seated in the bows of his highhoisted boat, was about -taking his wonted daily obervation of the sun to determine his latitude. Now, -in that Japanese sea, the days in summer are as freshets of effulgences. -That unblinkingly vivid Japanese sun seems the blazing focus of the glassy -ocean's immeasureable burningglass. The sky looks lacquered clouds there -are none the horizon floats and this nakedness of unrelieved radiance is -as the insufferable splendors of God's throne. Well that Ahab's quadrant -was furnished with colored glasses, through which to take sight of that solar -fire. So, swinging his seated form to the roll of the ship, and with his -astrologicallooking instrument placed to his eye, he remained in that posture -for some moments to catch the precise instant when the sun should gain its -precise meridian. Meantime while his whole attention was absorbed, the Parsee -was kneeling beneath him on the ship's deck, and with face thrown up like -Ahab's, was eyeing the same sun with him only the lids of his eyes half -hooded their orbs, and his wild face was subdued to an earthly -passionlessness. At length the desired observation was taken and with his -pencil upon his ivory leg, Ahab soon calculated what his latitude must be at -that precise instant. Then falling into a moment's revery, he again looked -up towards the sun and murmured to himself Thou seamark thou high and -mighty Pilot thou tellest me truly -where I am but canst thou cast the least hint where I shall be? Or canst -thou tell where some other thing besides me is this moment living? Where is -Moby Dick? This instant thou must be eyeing him. These eyes of mine look -into the very eye that is even now beholding him aye, and into the eye that -is even now equally beholding the objects on the unknown, thither side of -thee, thou sun Then gazing at his quadrant, and handling, one after the -other, its numerous cabalistical contrivances, he pondered again, and -muttered Foolish toy babies' plaything of haughty Admirals, and -Commodores, and Captains the world brags of thee, of thy cunning and might -but what after all canst thou do, but tell the poor, pitiful point, where -thou thyself happenest to be on this wide planet, and the hand that holds -thee no not one jot more Thou canst not tell where one drop of water or -one grain of sand will be tomorrow noon and yet with thy impotence thou -insultest the sun Science Curse thee, thou vain toy and cursed be all -the things that cast man's eyes aloft to that heaven, whose live vividness -but scorches him, as these old eyes are even now scorched with thy light, O -sun Level by nature to this earth's horizon are the glances of man's eyes -not shot from the crown of his head, as if God had meant him to gaze on his -firmament. Curse thee, thou quadrant dashing it to the deck, no longer -will I guide my earthly way by thee the level ship's compass, and the level -deadreckoning, by log and by line these shall conduct me, and show me my -place on the sea. Aye, lighting from the boat to the deck, thus I -trample on thee, thou paltry thing that feebly pointest on high thus I split -and destroy thee As the frantic old man thus spoke and thus trampled with -his live and dead feet, a sneering triumph that seemed meant for Ahab, and a -fatalistic despair that seemed meant for himself these passed over the mute, -motionless Parsee's face. Unobserved he rose and glided away while, -awestruck by the aspect of their commander, the seamen clustered together on -the forecastle, till Ahab, troubledly pacing the deck, shouted out To the -braces Up helm square in In an instant the yards swung round and as -the ship halfwheeled -upon her heel, her three firmseated graceful masts erectly poised upon her -long, ribbed hull, seemed as the three Horatii pirouetting on one sufficient -steed. Standing between the knightheads, Starbuck watched the Pequod's -tumultuous way, and Ahab's also, as he went lurching along the deck. I -have sat before the dense coal fire and watched it all aglow, full of its -tormented flaming life and I have seen it wane at last, down, down, to -dumbest dust. Old man of oceans of all this fiery life of thine, what will -at length remain but one little heap of ashes Aye, cried Stubb, but -seacoal ashes mind ye that, Mr. Starbuck seacoal, not your common -charcoal. Well, well I heard Ahab mutter, "Here some one thrusts these -cards into these old hands of mine swears that I must play them, and no -others." And damn me, Ahab, but thou actest right live in the game, and -die it -Warmest climes but nurse the cruellest -fangs the tiger of Bengal crouches in spiced groves of ceaseless verdure. -Skies the most effulgent but basket the deadliest thunders gorgeous Cuba -knows tornadoes that never swept tame northern lands. So, too, it is, that in -these resplendent Japanese seas the mariner encounters the direst of all -storms, the Typhoon. It will sometimes burst from out that cloudless sky, -like an exploding bomb upon a dazed and sleepy town. Towards evening of that -day, the Pequod was torn of her canvas, and barepoled was left to fight a -Typhoon which had struck her directly ahead. When darkness came on, sky and -sea roared and split with the thunder, and blazed with the lightning, that -showed the disabled masts fluttering here and there with -the rags which the first fury of the tempest had left for its after sport. -Holding by a shroud, Starbuck was standing on the quarterdeck at every -flash of the lightning glancing aloft, to see what additional disaster might -have befallen the intricate hamper there while Stubb and Flask were -directing the men in the higher hoisting and firmer lashing of the boats. But -all their pains seemed naught. Though lifted to the very top of the cranes, -the windward quarter boat Ahab's did not escape. A great rolling sea, -dashing high up against the reeling ship's high tetering side, stove in the -boat's bottom at the stern, and left it again, all dripping through like a -sieve. Bad work, bad work Mr. Starbuck, said Stubb, regarding the wreck, -but the sea will have its way. Stubb, for one, can't fight it. You see, Mr. -Starbuck, a wave has such a great long start before it leaps, all round the -world it runs, and then comes the spring But as for me, all the start I -have to meet it, is just across the deck here. But never mind it's all in -fun so the old song says sings. Oh jolly is the gale, And a joker -is the whale, A' flourishin' his tail, Such a funny, sporty, gamy, jesty, -joky, hokypoky lad, is the Ocean, oh The scud all a flyin' That's his -flip only foamin' When he stirs in the spicin', Such a funny, sporty, -gamy, jesty, joky, hokypoky lad, is the Ocean, oh Thunder splits the -ships, But he only smacks his lips, A tastin' of this flip, Such a funny, -sporty, gamy, jesty, joky, hokypoky lad, is the Ocean, oh Avast Stubb, -cried Starbuck, let the Typhoon sing, and strike his harp here in our -rigging but if thou art a brave man thou wilt hold thy peace. But I am -not a brave man never said i was a brave man I am a coward and I sing to -keep up my spirits. And I tell you what it is, Mr. Starbuck, there's no way -to stop my singing -in this world but to cut my throat. And when that's done, ten to one I sing -ye the doxology for a windup. Madman look through my eyes if thou hast -none of thine own. What how can you see better of a dark night than -anybody else, never mind how foolish? Here cried Starbuck, seizing -Stubb by the shoulder, and pointing his hand towards the weather bow, -markest thou not that the gale comes from the eastward, the very course Ahab -is to run for Moby Dick? the very course he swung to this day noon? now -mark his boat there where is that stove? In the sternsheets, man where -he is wont to stand his standpoint is stove, man Now jump overboard, and -sing away, if thou must I don't half understand ye what's in the wind? -Yes, yes, round the Cape of Good Hope is the shortest way to Nantucket, -soliloquized Starbuck suddenly, heedless of Stubb's question. The gale that -now hammers at us to stave us, we can turn it into a fair wind that will -drive us towards home. Yonder, to windward, all is blackness of doom but -to leeward, homeward I see it lightens up there but not with the -lightning. At that moment in one of the intervals of profound darkness, -following the flashes, a voice was heard at his side and almost at the same -instant a volley of thunder peals rolled overhead. Who's there? Old -Thunder said Ahab, groping his way along the bulwarks to his pivothole -but suddenly finding his path made plain to him by elbowed lances of fire. -Now, as the lightning rod to a spire on shore is intended to carry off the -perilous fluid into the soil so the kindred rod which at sea some ships -carry to each mast, is intended to conduct it into the water. But as this -conductor must descend to considerable depth, that its end may avoid all -contact with the hull and as moreover, if kept constantly towing there, it -would be liable to many mishaps, besides interfering not a little with some -of the rigging, and more or less impeding the vessel's way in the water -because of all this, the lower parts of a ship's -lightningrods are not always overboard but are generally made in long -slender links, so as to be the more readily hauled up into the chains -outside, or thrown down into the sea, as occasion may require. The rods -the rods cried Starbuck to the crew, suddenly admonished to vigilance by -the vivid lightning that had just been darting flambeaux, to light Ahab to his -post. Are they overboard? drop them over, fore and aft. Quick Avast -cried Ahab let's have fair play here, though we be the weaker side. Yet -I'll contribute to raise rods on the Himmalehs and Andes, that all the world -may be secured but out on privileges Let them be, sir. Look aloft -cried Starbuck. The corpusants the corpusants All the yardarms were -tipped with a pallid fire and touched at each tripointed lightningrodend -with three tapering white flames, each of the three tall masts was silently -burning in that sulphurous air, like three gigantic wax tapers before an -altar. Blast the boat let it go cried Stubb at this instant, as a -swashing sea heaved up under his own little craft, so that its gunwale -violently jammed his hand, as he was passing a lashing. Blast it but -slipping backward on the deck, his uplifted eyes caught the flames and -immediately shifting his tone, he cried The corpusants have mercy on us -all To sailors, oaths are household words they will swear in the trance -of the calm, and in the teeth of the tempest they will imprecate curses -from the topsailyardarms, when most they teter over to a seething sea but -in all my voyagings, seldom have I heard a common oath when God's burning -finger has been laid on the ship when his mene, mene, Tekel Upharsin has -been woven into the shrouds and the cordage. While this pallidness was burning -aloft, few words were heard from the enchanted crew who in one thick -cluster stood on the forecastle, all their eyes gleaming in that pale -phosphorescence, like a far away constellation of stars. Relieved against -the ghostly light, the gigantic jet negro, Daggoo, loomed up to thrice his -real stature, and seemed the black cloud from which the thunder had come. -The parted mouth of Tashtego revealed his sharkwhite teeth, which strangely -gleamed as if they too -had been tipped by corpusants while lit up by the preternatural light, -Queequeg's tattooing burned like Satanic blue flames on his body. The tableau -all waned at last with the pallidness aloft and once more the Pequod and -every soul on her decks were wrapped in a pall. A moment or two passed, when -Starbuck, going forward, pushed against some one. It was Stubb. What -thinkest thou now, man I heard thy cry it was not the same in the song. -No, no, it wasn't I said the corpusants have mercy on us all and I hope -they will, still. But do they only have mercy on long faces? have they no -bowels for a laugh? And look ye, Mr. Starbuck but it's too dark to look. -Hear me, then I take that masthead flame we saw for a sign of good luck -for those masts are rooted in a hold that is going to be chock a' block with -spermoil, d'ye see and so, all that sperm will work up into the masts, -like sap in a tree. Yes, our three masts will yet be as three spermaceti -candles that's the good promise we saw. At that moment Starbuck caught -sight of Stubb's face slowly beginning to glimmer into sight. Glancing -upwards, he cried See see and once more the high tapering flames were -beheld with what seemed redoubled supernaturalness in their pallor. The -corpusants have mercy on us all, cried Stubb, again. At the base of the -mainmast, full beneath the doubloon and the flame, the parsee was kneeling -in Ahab's front, but with his head bowed away from him while near by, from -the arched and overhanging rigging, where they had just been engaged securing -a spar, a number of the seamen, arrested by the glare, now cohered -together, and hung pendulous, like a knot of numbed wasps from a drooping, -orchard twig. In various enchanted attitudes, like the standing, or -stepping, or running skeletons in Herculaneum, others remained rooted to the -deck but all their eyes upcast. Aye, aye, men cried Ahab. Look up at -it mark it well the white flame but lights the way to the White Whale -Hand me those mainmast links there I would fain feel this pulse, and let -mine beat against it blood against fire So. -Then turning the last link held fast in his left hand, he put his foot upon -the Parsee and with fixed upward eye, and highflung right arm, he stood -erect before the lofty tripointed trinity of flames. Oh thou clear spirit -of clear fire, whom on these seas I as Persian once did worship, till in the -sacramental act so burned by thee, that to this hour I bear the scar I now -know thee, thou clear spirit, and I now know that thy right worship is -defiance. To neither love nor reverence wilt thou be kind and e'en for hate -thou canst but kill and all are killed. No fearless fool now fronts thee. -I own thy speechless, placeless power but to the last gasp of my earthquake -life will dispute its unconditional, unintegral mastery in me. In the midst -of the personified impersonal, a personality stands here. Though but a -point at best whencesoe'er I came wheresoe'er I go yet while I earthly -live, the queenly personality lives in me, and feels her royal rights. But -war is pain, and hate is woe. Come in thy lowest form of love, and I will -kneel and kiss thee but at thy highest, come as mere supernal power and -though thou launchest navies of fullfreighted worlds, there's that in here -that still remains indifferent. Oh, thou clear spirit, of thy fire thou -madest me, and like a true child of fire, I breathe it back to thee. -[Sudden, repeated flashes of lightning the nine flames leap lengthwise to -thrice their previous height Ahab, with the rest, closes his eyes, his -right hand pressed hard upon them.] I own thy speechless, placeless power -said I not so? Nor was it wrung from me nor do I now drop these links. -Thou canst blind but I can then grope. Thou canst consume but I can then -be ashes. Take the homage of these poor eyes, and shutterhands. I would -not take it. The lightning flashes through my skull mine eyeballs ache and -ache my whole beaten brain seems as beheaded, and rolling on some stunning -ground. Oh, oh Yet blindfold, yet will I talk to thee. Light though thou -be, thou leapest out of darkness but I am darkness leaping out of light, -leaping out of thee The javelins cease open eyes see, or not? There burn -the flames Oh, thou magnanimous now do I glory in my genealogy. But thou -art but my fiery father my sweet mother, I know not. Oh, cruel what hast -thou done with her? There lies my puzzle but thine is greater. Thou knowest -not how came ye, hence callest thyself unbegotten certainly knowest not thy -beginning, hence callest thyself unbegun. I know that of me, which thou -knowest not of thyself, oh, thou omnipotent. There is some unsuffusing thing -beyond thee, thou clear spirit, to whom all thy eternity is but time, all -thy creativeness mechanical. Through thee, thy flaming self, my scorched -eyes do dimly see it. Oh, thou foundling fire, thou hermit immemorial, thou -too hast thy incommunicable riddle, thy unparticipated grief. Here again with -haughty agony, i read my sire. leap leap up, and lick the sky I leap -with thee I burn with thee would fain be welded with thee defyingly I -worship thee The boat the boat cried Starbuck, look at thy boat, old -man Ahab's harpoon, the one forged at Perth's fire, remained firmly lashed -in its conspicuous crotch, so that it projected beyond his whaleboat's bow -but the sea that had stove its bottom had caused the loose leather sheath to -drop off and from the keen steel barb there now came a levelled flame of -pale, forked fire. As the silent harpoon burned there like a serpent's -tongue, Starbuck grasped Ahab by the arm God, God is against thee, old -man forbear t'is an ill voyage ill begun, ill continued let me square -the yards, while we may, old man, and make a fair wind of it homewards, to -go on a better voyage than this. Overhearing Starbuck, the panicstricken -crew instantly ran to the braces though not a sail was left aloft. For the -moment all the aghast mate's thoughts seemed theirs they raised a half -mutinous cry. But dashing the rattling lightning links to the deck, and -snatching the burning harpoon, Ahab waved it like a torch among them -swearing to transfix with it the first sailor that but cast loose a rope's -end. Petrified by his aspect, and still more shrinking from the fiery dart -that he held, the men fell back in dismay, and Ahab again spoke All -your oaths to hunt the White Whale are as binding as mine and heart, soul, -and body, lungs and life, old Ahab is bound. And that ye may know to what -tune this heart beats -look ye here thus I blow out the last fear And with one blast of his -breath he extinguished the flame. As in the hurricane that sweeps the plain, -men fly the neighborhood of some lone, gigantic elm, whose very height and -strength but render it so much the more unsafe, because so much the more a -mark for thunderbolts so at those last words of ahab's many of the mariners -did run from him in a terror of dismay. -Queequeg was a native of Kokovoko, an -island far away to the West and South. It is not down in any map true -places never are. When a newhatched savage running wild about his native -woodlands in a grass clout, followed by the nibbling goats, as if he were a -green sapling even then, in Queequeg's ambitious soul, lurked a strong -desire to see something more of Christendom than a specimen whaler or two. -His father was a High Chief, a King his uncle a High Priest and on the -maternal side he boasted aunts who were the wives of unconquerable warriors. -There was excellent blood in his veins royal stuff though -sadly vitiated, I fear, by the cannibal propensity he nourished in his -untutored youth. A Sag Harbor ship visited his father's bay, and Queequeg -sought a passage to Christian lands. But the ship, having her full complement -of seamen, spurned his suit and not all the King his father's influence -could prevail. But Queequeg vowed a vow. Alone in his canoe, he paddled off -to a distant strait, which he knew the ship must pass through when she quitted -the island. On one side was a coral reef on the other a low tongue of -land, covered with mangrove thickets that grew out into the water. Hiding -his canoe, still afloat, among these thickets, with its prow seaward, he sat -down in the stern, paddle low in hand and when the ship was gliding by, -like a flash he darted out gained her side with one backward dash of his -foot capsized and sank his canoe climbed up the chains and throwing -himself at full length upon the deck, grappled a ringbolt there, and swore not -to let it go, though hacked in pieces. In vain the captain threatened to throw -him overboard suspended a cutlass over his naked wrists Queequeg was the -son of a King, and Queequeg budged not. Struck by his desperate -dauntlessness, and his wild desire to visit Christendom, the captain at last -relented, and told him he might make himself at home. But this fine young -savage this sea Prince of Wales, never saw the captain's cabin. They put him -down among the sailors, and made a whaleman of him. But like Czar Peter -content to toil in the shipyards of foreign cities, Queequeg disdained no -seeming ignominy, if thereby he might happily gain the power of enlightening -his untutored countrymen. For at bottom so he told me he was actuated by a -profound desire to learn among the Christians, the arts whereby to make his -people still happier than they were and more than that, still better than -they were. But, alas the practices of whalemen soon convinced him that even -Christians could be both miserable and wicked infinitely more so, than all -his father's heathens. Arrived at last in old Sag Harbor and seeing what -the sailors did there and then going on to Nantucket, and seeing how they -spent their wages in that place also, poor Queequeg gave it up for lost. -Thought he, it's a wicked world in all meridians I'll die a pagan. -and thus an old idolator at heart, he yet lived among these Christians, wore -their clothes, and tried to talk their gibberish. Hence the queer ways about -him, though now some time from home. By hints, I asked him whether he did -not propose going back, and having a coronation since he might now consider -his father dead and gone, he being very old and feeble at the last accounts. -He answered no, not yet and added that he was fearful Christianity, or -rather Christians, had unfitted him for ascending the pure and undefiled -throne of thirty pagan Kings before him. But by and by, he said, he would -return, as soon as he felt himself baptized again. For the nonce, however, -he proposed to sail about, and sow his wild oats in all four oceans. They -had made a harpooneer of him, and that barbed iron was in lieu of a sceptre -now. I asked him what might be his immediate purpose, touching his future -movements. He answered, to go to sea again, in his old vocation. Upon this, -I told him that whaling was my own design, and informed him of my intention -to sail out of Nantucket, as being the most promising port for an adventurous -whaleman to embark from. He at once resolved to accompany me to that island, -ship aboard the same vessel, get into the same watch, the same boat, the -same mess with me, in short to share my every hap with both my hands in -his, boldly dip into the Potluck of both worlds. To all this I joyously -assented for besides the affection I now felt for Queequeg, he was an -experienced harpooneer, and as such, could not fail to be of great usefulness -to one, who, like me, was wholly ignorant of the mysteries of whaling, though -well acquainted with the sea, as known to merchant seamen. His story being -ended with his pipe's last dying puff, Queequeg embraced me, pressed his -forehead against mine, and blowing out the light, we rolled over from each -other, this way and that, and very soon were sleeping. -Ahab standing by the helm. Starbuck approaching him. We must send down the -maintopsail yard, sir. The band is working loose, and the lee lift is -halfstranded. Shall I strike it, sir? Strike nothing lash it. If I had -skysail poles, I'd sway them up now. Sir? in God's name sir? Well. -The anchors are working, sir. Shall I get them inboard? Strike nothing, -and stir nothing, but lash everything. The wind rises, but it has not got -up to my tablelands yet. Quick, and see to it. By masts and keels he -takes me for the hunchbacked skipper of some coasting smack. Send down my -maintopsail yard Ho, gluepots Loftiest trucks were made for wildest -winds, and this braintruck of mine now sails amid the cloudscud. Shall I -strike that? Oh, none but cowards send down their braintrucks in tempest -time. What a hooroosh aloft there I would e'en take it for sublime, did I -not know that the colic is a noisy malady. Oh, take medicine, take -medicine -Stubb and Flask -mounted on them, and passing additional lashings over the anchors there -hanging. No, Stubb you may pound that knot there as much as you please, -but you will never pound into me what you were just now saying. And how long -ago is it since you said the very contrary? Didn't you once say that whatever -ship Ahab sails in, that ship should pay something extra on its insurance -policy, just as though it were loaded with powder barrels aft and boxes of -lucifers forward? Stop, now didn't you say so? Well, suppose I did? What -then? i've part changed my flesh since that time, why not my mind? Besides, -supposing we are loaded with powder barrels aft and lucifers forward how -the devil could the lucifers get afire in this drenching spray here? Why, my -little man, you have pretty red hair, but you couldn't get afire now. Shake -yourself you're Aquarius, or the waterbearer, Flask might fill pitchers -at your coat collar. Don't you see, then, that for these extra risks the -Marine Insurance companies have extra guarantees? Here are hydrants, -Flask. But hark, again, and I'll answer ye the other thing. First take your -leg off from the crown of the anchor here, though, so I can pass the rope -now listen. What's the mighty difference between holding a mast's -lightningrod in the storm, and standing close by a mast that hasn't got any -lightningrod at all in a storm? Don't you see, you timberhead, that no -harm can come to the holder of the rod, unless the mast is first struck? -What are you talking about, then? Not one ship in a hundred carries rods, -and Ahab, aye, man, and all of us, were in no more danger then, in my poor -opinion, than all the crews in ten thousand ships now sailing the seas. Why, -you KingPost, you, I suppose you would have every man in the world go about -with a small lightningrod running up the corner of his hat, like a militia -officer's skewered feather, and trailing behind like his sash. Why don't ye -be sensible, Flask? it's easy to be sensible why don't ye, then? any man -with half an eye can be sensible. I don't know that, Stubb. You sometimes -find it rather hard. Yes, when a fellow's soaked through, it's hard to be -sensible, that's a fact. And I am about drenched with this spray. Never -mind catch the turn there, and pass it. Seems to me we are lashing down -these anchors now as if they were never going to be used again. tying these -two anchors here, Flask, seems like tying a man's hands behind him. And what -big generous hands they are, to be sure. These are your iron fists, hey? -What a hold they have, too I wonder, Flask, whether the world is anchored -anywhere if she is, she swings with an uncommon long cable, though. There, -hammer that knot down, and we've done. So next to touching land, lighting -on deck is the most satisfactory. I say, just wring out my jacket skirts, -will ye? Thank ye. They laugh at longtogs so, Flask but seems to me, a -long tailed coat ought always to be worn in all storms afloat. The tails -tapering down that way, serve to carry off the water, d'ye see. Same with -cocked hats the cocks form gableend eavetroughs, Flask. No more -monkeyjackets and tarpaulins for me I must mount a swallowtail, and drive -down a beaver so. Halloa whew there goes my tarpaulin overboard Lord, -Lord, that the winds that come from heaven should be so unmannerly This is -a nasty night, lad. -During the most violent shocks of the -Typhoon, the man at the Pequod's jawbone tiller had several times been -reelingly hurled to the deck by its spasmodic motions, even though preventer -tackles had been attached to it for they were slack because some play to -the tiller was indispensable. In a severe gale like this, while the ship is -but a tossed shuttlecock to the blast, it is by no means uncommon to see -the needles in the compasses, at intervals, go round and round. It was thus -with the Pequod's at almost every shock the helmsman had not failed to -notice the whirling velocity with which they revolved upon the cards it is a -sight that hardly any one can behold without some sort of unwonted emotion. -Some hours after midnight, the Typhoon abated so much, that through the -strenuous exertions of Starbuck and Stubb one engaged forward and the other -aft the shivered remnants of the jib and fore and maintopsails were cut -adrift from the spars, and went eddying away to leeward, like the feathers -of -an albatross, which sometimes are cast to the winds when that stormtossed -bird is on the wing. The three corresponding new sails were now bent and -reefed, and a stormtrysail was set further aft so that the ship soon went -through the water with some precision again and the course for the present, -Eastsoutheast which he was to steer, if practicable, was once more given -to the helmsman. For during the violence of the gale, he had only steered -according to its vicissitudes. But as he was now bringing the ship as near -her course as possible, watching the compass meanwhile, lo a good sign -the wind seemed coming round astern aye the foul breeze became fair -Instantly the yards were squared, to the lively song of Ho the fair -wind ohheyo, cheerly, men the crew singing for joy, that so -promising an event should so soon have falsified the evil portents preceding -it. In compliance with the standing order of his commander to report -immediately, and at any one of the twentyfour hours, any decided change in -the affairs of the deck, Starbuck had no sooner trimmed the yards to the -breeze however reluctantly and gloomily, than he mechanically went below to -apprise Captain Ahab of the circumstance. Ere knocking at his stateroom, he -involuntarily paused before it a moment. The cabin lamp taking long swings -this way and that was burning fitfully, and casting fitful shadows upon the -old man's bolted door, a thin one, with fixed blinds inserted, in place of -upper panels. The isolated subterraneousness of the cabin made a certain -humming silence to reign there, though it was hooped round by all the roar of -the elements. The loaded muskets in the rack were shiningly revealed, as -they stood upright against the forward bulkhead. Starbuck was an honest, -upright man but out of Starbuck's heart, at that instant when he saw the -muskets, there strangely evolved an evil thought but so blent with its -neutral or good accompaniments that for the instant he hardly knew it for -itself. He would have shot me once, he murmured, yes, there's the very -musket that he pointed at me that one with the studded stock let me touch -it lift it. Strange, that I, who have -handled so many deadly lances, strange, that I should shake so now. Loaded? -I must see. Aye, aye and powder in the pan that's not good. Best spill -it? wait. I'll cure myself of this. I'll hold the musket boldly while I -think. I come to report a fair wind to him. But how fair? Fair for death -and doom, that's fair for Moby Dick. It's a fair wind that's only fair for -that accursed fish. The very tube he pointed at me the very one this one -I hold it here he would have killed me with the very thing I handle now. -Aye and he would fain kill all his crew. Does he not say he will not strike -his spars to any gale? Has he not dashed his heavenly quadrant? and in these -same perilous seas, gropes he not his way by mere dead reckoning of the -errorabounding log? and in this very Typhoon, did he not swear that he -would have no lightningrods? But shall this crazed old man be tamely -suffered to drag a whole ship's company down to doom with him? Yes, it would -make him the wilful murderer of thirty men and more, if this ship come to any -deadly harm and come to deadly harm, my soul swears this ship will, if Ahab -have his way. If, then, he were this instantput aside, that crime would -not be his. Ha is he muttering in his sleep? Yes, just there, in there, -he's sleeping. Sleeping? aye, but still alive, and soon awake again. I -can't withstand thee, then, old man. Not reasoning not remonstrance not -entreaty wilt thou hearken to all this thou scornest. Flat obedience to thy -own flat commands, this is all thou breathest. Aye, and say'st the men -have vow'd thy vow say'st all of us are Ahabs. Great God forbid But is -there no other way? no lawful way? Make him a prisoner to be taken home? -What hope to wrest this old man's living power from his own living hands? -Only a fool would try it. Say he were pinioned even knotted all over with -ropes and hawsers chained down to ringbolts on this cabin floor he would -be more hideous than a caged tiger, then. I could not endure the sight -could not possibly fly his howlings all comfort, sleep itself, inestimable -reason would leave me on the long intolerable voyage. What, then, remains? -The land is hundreds of leagues away, and locked Japan the nearest. I stand -alone here upon an open sea, with two oceans and a whole continent between -me and law. Aye, aye, 'tis so. Is heaven a murderer -when its lightning strikes a wouldbe murderer in his bed, tindering sheets -and skin together? And would I be a murderer, then, if and slowly, -stealthily, and half sideways looking, he placed the loaded musket's end -against the door. On this level, Ahab's hammock swings within his head -this way. A touch, and Starbuck may survive to hug his wife and child -again. Oh Mary Mary boy boy boy But if I wake thee not to death, old -man, who can tell to what unsounded deeps Starbuck's body this day week may -sink, with all the crew Great God, where art thou? Shall I? shall I? The -wind has gone down and shifted, sir the fore and main topsails are reefed -and set she heads her course. Stern all Oh Moby Dick, I clutch thy heart -at last Such were the sounds that now came hurtling from out the old man's -tormented sleep, as if Starbuck's voice had caused the long dumb dream to -speak. The yet levelled musket shook like a drunkard's arm against the panel -Starbuck seemed wrestling with an angel but turning from the door, he -placed the deathtube in its rack, and left the place. He's too sound -asleep, Mr Stubb go thou down, and wake him, and tell him. I must see to -the deck here. Thou know'st what to say. -Next morning the notyetsubsided sea -rolled in long slow billows of mighty bulk, and striving in the Pequod's -gurgling track, pushed her on like giants' palms outspread. The strong, -unstaggering breeze abounded so, that sky and air seemed vast outbellying -sails the whole world boomed before the wind. Muffled in the full morning -light, the invisible sun was only known by the spread intensity of his place -where his bayonet -rays moved on in stacks. Emblazonings, as of crowned Babylonian kings and -queens, reigned over everything. The sea was as a crucible of molten gold, -that bubblingly leaps with light and heat. Long maintaining an enchanted -silence, Ahab stood apart and every time the tetering ship loweringly -pitched down her bowsprit, he turned to eye the bright sun's rays produced -ahead and when she profoundly settled by the stern, he turned behind, and -saw the sun's rearward place, and how the same yellow rays were blending with -his undeviating wake. Ha, ha, my ship thou mightest well be taken now for -the seachariot of the sun. Ho, ho all ye nations before my prow, I bring -the sun to ye Yoke on the further billows hallo a tandem, I drive the -sea But suddenly reined back by some counter thought, he hurried towards -the helm, huskily demanding how the ship was heading. Eastsoueast, -sir, said the frightened steersman. Thou liest smiting him with his -clenched fist. Heading East at this hour in the morning, and the sun -astern? Upon this every soul was confounded for the phenomenon just then -observed by Ahab had unaccountably escaped every one else but its very -blinding palpableness must have been the cause. Thrusting his head half way -into the binnacle, Ahab caught one glimpse of the compasses his uplifted -arm slowly fell for a moment he almost seemed to stagger. Standing behind -him Starbuck looked, and lo the two compasses pointed East, and the -Pequod was as infallibly going West. But ere the first wild alarm could get -out abroad among the crew, the old man with a rigid laugh exclaimed, I have -it It has happened before. Mr. Starbuck, last night's thunder turned our -compasses that's all. Thou hast before now heard of such a thing, I take -it. Aye but never before has it happened to me, sir, said the pale -mate, gloomily. Here, it must needs be said, that accidents like this have in -more than one case occurred to ships in violent storms. The -magnetic energy, as developed in the mariner's needle, is, as all know, -essentially one with the electricity beheld in heaven hence it is not to be -much marvelled at, that such things should be. In instances where the -lightning has actually struck the vessel, so as to smite down some of the -spars and rigging, the effect upon the needle has at times been still more -fatal all its loadstone virtue being annihilated, so that the before -magnetic steel was of no more use than an old wife's knitting needle. But in -either case, the needle never again, of itself, recovers the original virtue -thus marred or lost and if the binnacle compasses be affected, the same -fate reaches all the others that may be in the ship even were the lowermost -one inserted into the kelson. Deliberately standing before the binnacle, and -eyeing the transpointed compasses, the old man, with the sharp of his -extended hand, now took the precise bearing of the sun, and satisfied that -the needles were exactly inverted, shouted out his orders for the ship's -course to be changed accordingly. The yards were hard up and once more the -Pequod thrust her undaunted bows into the opposing wind, for the supposed -fair one had only been juggling her. Meanwhile, whatever were his own secret -thoughts, Starbuck said nothing, but quietly he issued all requisite orders -while Stubb and Flask who in some small degree seemed then to be sharing -his feelings likewise unmurmuringly acquiesced. As for the men, though some -of them lowly rumbled, their fear of Ahab was greater than their fear of -Fate. But as ever before, the pagan harpooneers remained almost wholly -unimpressed or if impressed, it was only with a certain magnetism shot into -their congenial hearts from inflexible Ahab's. For a space the old man walked -the deck in rolling reveries. But chancing to slip with his ivory heel, he -saw the crushed copper sighttubes of the quadrant he had the day before -dashed to the deck. Thou poor, proud heavengazer and sun's pilot yesterday -I wrecked thee, and today the compasses would feign have wrecked me. So, -so. But Ahab is lord over the level loadstone -yet. Mr. Starbucka lance without a pole a topmaul, and the smallest of -the sailmaker's needles. Quick Accessory, perhaps, to the impulse -dictating the thing he was now about to do, were certain prudential motives, -whose object might have been to revive the spirits of his crew by a stroke of -his subtile skill, in a matter so wondrous as that of the inverted compasses. -Besides, the old man well knew that to steer by transpointed needles, though -clumsily practicable, was not a thing to be passed over by superstitious -sailors, without some shudderings and evil portents. Men, said he, -steadily turning upon the crew, as the mate handed him the things he had -demanded, my men, the thunder turned old Ahab's needles but out of this -bit of steel Ahab can make one of his own, that will point as true as any. -Abashed glances of servile wonder were exchanged by the sailors, as this was -said and with fascinated eyes they awaited whatever magic might follow. But -Starbuck looked away. With a blow from the topmaul Ahab knocked off the steel -head of the lance, and then handing to the mate the long iron rod remaining, -bade him hold it upright, without its touching the deck. Then, with the -maul, after repeatedly smiting the upper end of this iron rod, he placed the -blunted needle endwise on the top of it, and less strongly hammered that, -several times, the mate still holding the rod as before. Then going through -some small strange motions with it whether indispensable to the magnetizing -of the steel, or merely intended to augment the awe of the crew, is uncertain -he called for linen thread and moving to the binnacle, slipped out the two -reversed needles there, and horizontally suspended the sailneedle by its -middle, over one of the compasscards. At first, the steel went round and -round, quivering and vibrating at either end but at last it settled to its -place, when Ahab, who had been intently watching for this result, stepped -frankly back from the binnacle, and pointing his stretched arm towards it, -exclaimed, Look ye, for yourselves, if Ahab be not the lord of the level -loadstone The sun is East, and that compass swears it One after another -they peered in, for nothing but their own -eyes could persuade such ignorance as theirs, and one after another they -slunk away. In his fiery eyes of scorn and triumph, you then saw Ahab in all -his fatal pride. -While now the fated Pequod had been -so long afloat this voyage, the log and line had but very seldom been in use. -Owing to a confident reliance upon other means of determining the vessel's -place, some merchantmen, and many whalemen, especially when cruising, -wholly neglect to heave the log though at the same time, and frequently more -for form's sake than anything else, regularly putting down upon the customary -slate the course steered by the ship, as well as the presumed average rate of -progression every hour. It had been thus with the Pequod. The wooden reel -and angular log attached hung, long untouched, just beneath the railing of -the after bulwarks. Rains and spray had damped it the sun and wind had -warped it all the elements had combined to rot a thing that hung so idly. -But heedless of all this, his mood seized Ahab, as he happened to glance -upon the reel, not many hours after the magnet scene, and he remembered how -his quadrant was no more, and recalled his frantic oath about the level log -and line. The ship was sailing plungingly astern the billows rolled in -riots. Forward, there Heave the log Two seamen came. The goldenhued -Tahitian and the grizzly Manxman. Take the reel, one of ye, I'll heave. -They went towards the extreme stern, on the ship's lee side, where the deck, -with the oblique energy of the wind, was now almost dipping into the creamy, -sidelongrushing sea. The Manxman took the reel, and holding it high up, by -the projecting handleends of the spindle, round which the spool -of line revolved, so stood with the angular log hanging downwards, till Ahab -advanced to him. Ahab stood before him, and was lightly unwinding some thirty -or forty turns to form a preliminary handcoil to toss overboard, when the -old Manxman, who was intently eyeing both him and the line, made bold to -speak. Sir, I mistrust it this line looks far gone, long heat and wet -have spoiled it. 'Twill hold, old gentleman. Long heat and wet, have they -spoiled thee? Thou seem'st to hold. Or, truer perhaps, life holds thee not -thou it. I hold the spool, sir. But just as my captain says. With these -grey hairs of mine 'tis not worth while disputing, 'specially with a -superior, who'll ne'er confess. What's that? There now's a patched -professor in Queen Nature's granitefounded College but methinks he's too -subservient. Where wert thou born? In the little rocky Isle of Man, sir. -Excellent Thou'st hit the world by that. I know not, sir, but I was born -there. In the Isle of Man, hey? Well, the other way, it's good. Here's a -man from Man a man born in once independent Man, and now unmanned of Man -which is sucked in by what? Up with the reel The dead, blind wall butts -all inquiring heads at last. Up with it So. The log was heaved. The -loose coils rapidly straightened out in a long dragging line astern, and -then, instantly, the reel began to whirl. In turn, jerkingly raised and -lowered by the rolling billows, the towing resistance of the log caused the -old reelman to stagger strangely. Hold hard Snap the overstrained line -sagged down in one long festoon the tugging log was gone. I crush the -quadrant, the thunder turns the needles, and now the mad sea parts the -logline. But Ahab can mend all. Haul in here, Tahitian reel up, Manxman. -And look ye, let the carpenter make another log, and mend thou the line. See -to it. -There he goes now to him nothing's happened but to me, the skewer seems -loosening out of the middle of the world. Haul in, haul in, Tahitian These -lines run whole, and whirling out come in broken, and dragging slow. Ha, -Pip? come to help eh, Pip? Pip? whom call ye Pip? Pip jumped from the -whaleboat. pip's missing. let's see now if ye haven't fished him up here, -fisherman. It drags hard I guess he's holding on. Jerk him, Tahiti Jerk -him off we haul in no cowards here. Ho there's his arm just breaking -water. A hatchet a hatchet cut it off we haul in no cowards here. -Captain Ahab sir, sir here's Pip, trying to get on board again. Peace, -thou crazy loon, cried the Manxman, seizing him by the arm. Away from the -quarterdeck The greater idiot ever scolds the lesser, muttered Ahab, -advancing. Hands off from that holiness Where sayest thou Pip was, boy? -Astern there, sir, astern Lo, lo And who art thou, boy? I see not my -reflection in the vacant pupils of thy eyes. Oh God that man should be a -thing for immortal souls to sieve through Who art thou, boy? Bellboy, -sir ship'scrier ding, dong, ding Pip Pip Pip One hundred pounds -of clay reward for Pip five feet high looks cowardly quickest known by -that Ding, dong, ding Who's seen Pip the coward? There can be no hearts -above the snowline. Oh, ye frozen heavens look down here. Ye did beget -this luckless child, and have abandoned him, ye creative libertines. Here, -boy Ahab's cabin shall be Pip's home henceforth, while Ahab lives. Thou -touchest my inmost centre, boy thou art tied to me by cords woven of my -heartstrings. Come, let's down. What's this? here's velvet sharkskin, -intently gazing at Ahab's hand, and feeling it. Ah, now, had poor Pip but -felt so kind a thing as this, perhaps he had ne'er been lost This seems to -me, sir, as a manrope something that weak souls may hold by. Oh, sir, let -old Perth now come and rivet these two hands together the black one with the -white, for I will not let this go. -Oh, boy, nor will I thee, unless I should thereby drag thee to worse horrors -than are here. come, then, to my cabin. Lo ye believers in gods all -goodness, and in man all ill, lo you see the omniscient gods oblivious of -suffering man and man, though idiotic, and knowing not what he does, yet -full of the sweet things of love and gratitude. Come I feel prouder leading -thee by thy black hand, than though I grasped an Emperor's There go two -daft ones now, muttered the old Manxman. One daft with strength, the other -daft with weakness. But here's the end of the rotten line all dripping, too. -Mend it, eh? I think we had best have a new line altogether. I'll see Mr. -Stubb about it. -Steering now southeastward by Ahab's -levelled steel, and her progress solely determined by Ahab's level log and -line the Pequod held on her path towards the Equator. Making so long a -passage through such unfrequented waters, descrying no ships, and ere long, -sideways impelled by unvarying trade winds, over waves monotonously mild -all these seemed the strange calm things preluding some riotous and desperate -scene. At last, when the ship drew near to the outskirts, as it were, of -the Equatorial fishingground, and in the deep darkness that goes before the -dawn, was sailing by a cluster of rocky islets the watch then headed by -Flask was startled by a cry so plaintively wild and unearthly like -halfarticulated wailings of the ghosts of all Herod's murdered Innocents -that one and all, they started from their reveries, and for the space of -some moments stood, or sat, or leaned all transfixedly listening, like the -carved Roman slave, while that wild cry remained within hearing. The -Christian or civilized part of the crew said it was mermaids, and shuddered -but the pagan harpooneers remained -unappalled. Yet the grey Manxman the oldest mariner of all declared that -the wild thrilling sounds that were heard, were the voices of newly drowned -men in the sea. below in his hammock, ahab did not hear of this till grey -dawn, when he came to the deck it was then recounted to him by Flask, not -unaccompanied with hinted dark meanings. He hollowly laughed, and thus -explained the wonder. Those rocky islands the ship had passed were the resort -of great numbers of seals, and some young seals that had lost their dams, -or some dams that had lost their cubs, must have risen nigh the ship and kept -company with her, crying and sobbing with their human sort of wail. But this -only the more affected some of them, because most mariners cherish a very -superstitious feeling about seals, arising not only from their peculiar tones -when in distress, but also from the human look of their round heads and -semiintelligent faces, seen peeringly uprising from the water alongside. In -the sea, under certain circumstances, seals have more than once been mistaken -for men. But the bodings of the crew were destined to receive a most -plausible confirmation in the fate of one of their number that morning. At -sunrise this man went from his hammock to his masthead at the fore and -whether it was that he was not yet half waked from his sleep for sailors -sometimes go aloft in a transition state, whether it was thus with the man, -there is now no telling but, be that as it may, he had not been long at -his perch, when a cry was heard a cry and a rushing and looking up, they -saw a falling phantom in the air and looking down, a little tossed heap of -white bubbles in the blue of the sea. The lifebuoy a long slender cask was -dropped from the stern, where it always hung obedient to a cunning spring -but no hand rose to seize it, and the sun having long beat upon this cask -it had shrunken, so that it slowly filled, and the parched wood also filled -at its every pore and the studded ironbound cask followed the sailor to the -bottom, as if to yield him his pillow, though in sooth but a hard one. And -thus the first man of the pequod that mounted the mast to look out for the -White Whale, on the White Whale's own -peculiar ground that man was swallowed up in the deep. But few, perhaps, -thought of that at the time. Indeed, in some sort, they were not grieved at -this event, at least as a portent for they regarded it, not as a -foreshadowing of evil in the future, but as the fulfilment of an evil already -presaged. They declared that now they knew the reason of those wild shrieks -they had heard the night before. But again the old Manxman said nay. The -lost lifebuoy was now to be replaced Starbuck was directed to see to it -but as no cask of sufficient lightness could be found, and as in the feverish -eagerness of what seemed the approaching crisis of the voyage, all hands were -impatient of any toil but what was directly connected with its final end, -whatever that might prove to be therefore, they were going to leave the -ship's stern unprovided with a buoy, when by certain strange signs and -inuendoes Queequeg hinted a hint concerning his coffin. A lifebuoy of a -coffin cried Starbuck, starting. Rather queer, that, I should say, said -Stubb. It will make a good enough one, said Flask, the carpenter here can -arrange it easily. Bring it up there's nothing else for it, said -Starbuck, after a melancholy pause. Rig it, carpenter do not look at me -so the coffin, I mean. Dost thou hear me? Rig it. And shall I nail down -the lid, sir? moving his hand as with a hammer. aye. And shall I caulk -the seams, sir? moving his hand as with a caulkingiron. Aye. And shall -I then pay over the same with pitch, sir? moving his hand as with a -pitchpot. Away What possesses thee to this? Make a lifebuoy of the -coffin, and no more. Mr. Stubb, Mr. Flask, come forward with me. He goes -off in a huff. The whole he can endure at the parts he baulks. Now I don't -like this. i make a leg for captain ahab, and he wears it like a gentleman -but I make a bandbox for Queequeg, and he wont put his head into it. Are -all my pains to go for nothing with that coffin? And now I'm ordered to make -a lifebuoy of it. It's like turning an old coat going to bring the flesh on -the other side now. I don't like this cobbling sort of business I don't like -it at all it's undignified it's not my place. Let tinkers' brats do -tinkerings we are their betters. I like to take in hand none but clean, -virgin, fairandsquare mathematical jobs, something that regularly begins -at the beginning, and is at the middle when midway, and comes to an end at -the conclusion not a cobbler's job, that's at an end in the middle, and at -the beginning at the end. It's the old woman's tricks to be giving cobbling -jobs. Lord what an affection all old women have for tinkers. I know an old -woman of sixtyfive who ran away with a baldheaded young tinker once. And -that's the reason I never would work for lonely widow old women ashore, when -I kept my jobshop in the Vineyard they might have taken it into their -lonely old heads to run off with me. But heighho there are no caps at sea -but snowcaps. Let me see. Nail down the lid caulk the seams pay over -the same with pitch batten them down tight, and hang it with the snapspring -over the ship's stern. Were ever such things done before with a coffin? Some -superstitious old carpenters, now, would be tied up in the rigging, ere they -would do the job. But I'm made of knotty Aroostook hemlock I don't budge. -Cruppered with a coffin Sailing about with a graveyard tray But never -mind. We workers in woods make bridalbedsteads and cardtables, as well as -coffins and hearses. We work by the month, or by the job, or by the profit -not for us to ask the why and wherefore of our work, unless it be too -confounded cobbling, and then we stash it if we can. hem i'll do the job, -now, tenderly. I'll have me let's see how many in the ship's company, all -told? But I've forgotten. Any way, I'll have me thirty separate, -Turk'sheaded lifelines, each three feet long hanging all round to the -coffin. Then, if the hull go down, there'll be thirty lively fellows all -fighting for one coffin, a sight not seen very often beneath the sun Come -hammer, calkingiron, pitchpot, and marlingspike Let's to it. -The coffin laid upon two linetubs, between -the vicebench and the open hatchway the Carpenter calking its seams the -string of twisted oakum slowly unwinding from a large roll of it placed in the -bosom of his frock. Ahab comes slowly from the cabingangway, and hears Pip -following him. Back, lad I will be with ye again presently. He goes Not -this hand complies with my humor more genially than that boy. Middle aisle -of a church What's here? Life buoy, sir. Mr. Starbuck's orders. Oh, -look, sir Beware the hatchway Thank ye, man. Thy coffin lies handy to -the vault. Sir? The hatchway? oh So it does, sir, so it does. Art -not thou the legmaker? Look, did not this stump come from thy shop? I -believe it did, sir does the ferrule stand, sir? Well enough. But art -thou not also the undertaker? Aye, sir I patched up this thing here as a -coffin for Queequeg but they've set me now to turning it into something -else. Then tell me art thou not an arrant, allgrasping, intermeddling, -monopolizing, heathenish old scamp, to be one day making legs, and the next -day coffins to clap them in, and yet again lifebuoys out of those same -coffins? Thou art as unprincipled as the gods, and as much of a -jackofalltrades. But I do not mean anything, sir. I do as I do. The -gods again. hark ye, dost thou not ever sing working about a coffin? The -Titans, they say, hummed snatches when chipping out the craters for volcanoes -and the gravedigger in the play sings, spade in hand. Dost thou never? -Sing, sir? Do I sing? Oh, I'm indifferent enough, sir, for that but the -reason why the gravedigger made music must -have been because there was none in his spade, sir. But the calking mallet is -full of it. Hark to it. Aye, and that's because the lid there's a -soundingboard and what in all things makes the soundingboard is this -there's naught beneath. And yet, a coffin with a body in it rings pretty -much the same, Carpenter. Hast thou ever helped carry a bier, and heard the -coffin knock against the churchyard gate, going in? Faith, sir, I've -Faith? What's that? Why, faith, sir, it's only a sort of exclamationlike -that's all, sir. Um, um go on. I was about to say, sir, that Art -thou a silkworm? Dost thou spin thy own shroud out of thyself? Look at thy -bosom Despatch and get these traps out of sight. He goes aft. That was -sudden, now but squalls come sudden in hot latitudes. I've heard that the -Isle of Albemarle, one of the Gallipagos, is cut by the Equator right in the -middle. Seems to me some sort of Equator cuts yon old man, too, right in his -middle. He's always under the Linefiery hot, I tell ye He's looking this -way come, oakum quick. Here we go again. This wooden mallet is the cork, -and I'm the professor of musical glasses tap, tap Ahab to himself. -There's a sight There's sound The greyheaded woodpecker tapping the -hollow tree Blind and dumb might well be envied now. See that thing rests -on two linetubs, full of towlines. A most malicious wag, that fellow. -Rattat So man's seconds tick Oh how immaterial are all materials What -things real are there, but imponderable thoughts? Here now's the very -dreaded symbol of grim death, by a mere hap, made the expressive sign of the -help and hope of most endangered life. A lifebuoy of a coffin Does it go -further? Can it be that in some spiritual sense the coffin is, after all, but -an immortalitypreserver I'll think of that. But no. So far gone -am I in the dark side of earth, that its other side, the theoretic bright one, -seems but uncertain twilight to me. Will ye never have done, Carpenter, with -that accursed sound? I go below let me not see that thing here when I return -again. Now, then, Pip, we'll talk this over I do suck most wondrous -philosophies from thee Some unknown conduits from the unknown worlds must -empty into thee -Next day, a large -ship, the Rachel, was descried, bearing directly down upon the Pequod, all her -spars thickly clustering with men. At the time the Pequod was making good -speed through the water but as the broadwinged windward stranger shot nigh -to her, the boastful sails all fell together as blank bladders that are -burst, and all life fled from the smitten hull. Bad news she brings bad -news, muttered the old Manxman. But ere her commander, who, with trumpet to -mouth, stood up in his boat ere he could hopefully hail, Ahab's voice was -heard. Hast seen the White Whale? Aye, yesterday. Have ye seen a -whaleboat adrift? Throttling his joy, Ahab negatively answered this -unexpected question and would then have fain boarded the stranger, when -the stranger captain himself, having stopped his vessel's way, was seen -descending her side. A few keen pulls, and his boathook soon clinched the -Pequod's mainchains, and he sprang to the deck. Immediately he was -recognized by ahab for a nantucketer he knew. But no formal salutation was -exchanged. Where was he? not killed not killed cried Ahab, closely -advancing. How was it? It seemed that somewhat late on the afternoon of the -day previous, while three of the stranger's boats were engaged with -a shoal of whales, which had led them some four or five miles from the ship -and while they were yet in swift chase to windward, the white hump and head of -Moby Dick had suddenly loomed up out of the blue water, not very far to -leeward whereupon, the fourth rigged boat a reserved one had been -instantly lowered in chase. After a keen sail before the wind, this fourth -boat the swiftest keeled of all seemed to have succeeded in fastening at -least, as well as the man at the masthead could tell anything about it. In -the distance he saw the diminished dotted boat and then a swift gleam of -bubbling white water and after that nothing more whence it was concluded -that the stricken whale must have indefinitely run away with his pursuers, as -often happens. There was some apprehension, but no positive alarm, as yet. -The recall signals were placed in the rigging darkness came on and forced -to pick up her three far to windward boats ere going in quest of the fourth -one in the precisely opposite direction the ship had not only been -necessitated to leave that boat to its fate till near midnight, but, for the -time, to increase her distance from it. But the rest of her crew being at -last safe aboard, she crowded all sail stunsail on stunsail after the -missing boat kindling a fire in her trypots for a beacon and every -other man aloft on the lookout. But though when she had thus sailed a -sufficient distance to gain the presumed place of the absent ones when last -seen though she then paused to lower her spare boats to pull all around her -and not finding anything, had again dashed on again paused, and lowered her -boats and though she had thus continued doing till day light yet not the -least glimpse of the missing keel had been seen. The story told, the -stranger Captain immediately went on to reveal his object in boarding the -Pequod. He desired that ship to unite with his own in the search by sailing -over the sea some four or five miles apart, on parallel lines, and so sweeping -a double horizon, as it were. I will wager something now, whispered Stubb -to Flask, that some one in that missing boat wore off that Captain's best -coat mayhap, his watch he's so cursed anxious to get it back. Who ever -heard of two pious whaleships cruising after -one missing whaleboat in the height of the whaling season? See, Flask, only -see how pale he looks pale in the very buttons of his eyes look it wasn't -the coat it must have been the My boy, my own boy is among them. For -God's sake I beg, I conjure here exclaimed the stranger Captain to Ahab, -who thus far had but icily received his petition. For eightandforty hours -let me charter your ship I will gladly pay for it, and roundly pay for it -if there be no other way for eightandforty hours only only that you -must, oh, you must, and you shall do this thing. His son cried Stubb, -oh, it's his son he's lost I take back the coat and watch what says Ahab? -We must save that boy. He's drowned with the rest on 'em, last night, said -the old Manx sailor standing behind them I heard all of ye heard their -spirits. Now, as it shortly turned out, what made this incident of the -Rachel's the more melancholy, was the circumstance, that not only was one of -the Captain's sons among the number of the missing boat's crew but among the -number of the other boat's crews, at the same time, but on the other hand, -separated from the ship during the dark vicissitudes of the chase, there had -been still another son as that for a time, the wretched father was plunged -to the bottom of the cruellest perplexity which was only solved for him by -his chief mate's instinctively adopting the ordinary procedure of a whaleship -in such emergencies, that is, when placed between jeopardized but divided -boats, always to pick up the majority first. But the captain, for some -unknown constitutional reason, had refrained from mentioning all this, and not -till forced to it by Ahab's iciness did he allude to his one yet missing boy -a little lad, but twelve years old, whose father with the earnest but -unmisgiving hardihood of a Nantucketer's paternal love, had thus early sought -to initiate him in the perils and wonders of a vocation almost immemorially -the destiny of all his race. Nor does it unfrequently occur, that Nantucket -captains will send a son of such tender age away from them, for a protracted -three or four years' voyage in some other ship than their own so that their -first knowledge of a whaleman's career shall be unenervated by any chance -display -of a father's natural but untimely partiality, or undue apprehensiveness -and concern. Meantime, now the stranger was still beseeching his poor boon of -Ahab and Ahab still stood like an anvil, receiving every shock, but -without the least quivering of his own. I will not go, said the stranger, -till you say aye to me. Do to me as you would have me do to you in the like -case. For you too have a boy, Captain Ahab though but a child, and nestling -safely at home now a child of your old age too Yes, yes, you relent I -see it run, run, men, now, and stand by to square in the yards. Avast, -cried Ahab touch not a ropeyarn then in a voice that prolongingly -moulded every word Captain Gardiner, I will not do it. Even now I lose -time. Good bye, good bye. God bless ye, man, and may I forgive myself, -but I must go. Mr. Starbuck, look at the binnacle watch, and in three -minutes from this present instant warn off all strangers then brace forward -again, and let the ship sail as before. Hurriedly turning, with averted face, -he descended into his cabin, leaving the strange captain transfixed at this -unconditional and utter rejection of his so earnest suit. But starting from -his enchantment, Gardiner silently hurried to the side more fell than -stepped into his boat, and returned to his ship. Soon the two ships diverged -their wakes and long as the strange vessel was in view, she was seen to yaw -hither and thither at every dark spot, however small, on the sea. This way -and that her yards were swung round starboard and larboard, she continued to -tack now she beat against a head sea and again it pushed her before it -while all the while, her masts and yards were thickly clustered with men, as -three tall cherry trees, when the boys are cherrying among the boughs. But by -her still halting course and winding, woful way, you plainly saw that this -ship that so wept with spray, still remained without comfort. She was -Rachel, weeping for her children, because they were not. -Ahab moving to go on deck Pip catches -him by the hand to follow. Lad, lad, I tell thee thou must not follow Ahab -now. The hour is coming when Ahab would not scare thee from him, yet would -not have thee by him. There is that in thee, poor lad, which I feel too -curing to my malady. Like cures like and for this hunt, my malady becomes -my most desired health. Do thou abide below here, where they shall serve -thee, as if thou wert the captain. Aye, lad, thou shalt sit here in my own -screwed chair another screw to it, thou must be. No, no, no ye have not -a whole body, sir do ye but use poor me for your one lost leg only tread -upon me, sir I ask no more, so I remain a part of ye. Oh spite of -million villains, this makes me a bigot in the fadeless fidelity of man and -a black and crazy but methinks likecureslike applies to him too he -grows so sane again. They tell me, sir, that Stubb did once desert poor -little Pip, whose drowned bones now show white, for all the blackness of his -living skin. But I will never desert ye, sir, as Stubb did him. Sir, I must -go with ye. If thou speakest thus to me much more, Ahab's purpose keels up -in him. I tell thee no it cannot be. Oh good master, master, master -Weep so, and I will murder thee have a care, for Ahab too is mad. -Listen, and thou wilt often hear my ivory foot upon the deck, and still know -that I am there. And now I quit thee. Thy hand Met True art thou, lad, -as the circumference to its centre. So God for ever bless thee and if it -come to that, God for ever save thee, let what will befall. -Ahab goes Pip steps one step forward. Here he this instant stood -I stand in his air, but I'm alone. Now were even poor Pip here I could -endure it, but he's missing. Pip Pip Ding, dong, ding Who's seen Pip? -He must be up here let's try the door. What? neither lock, nor bolt, nor -bar and yet there's no opening it. It must be the spell he told me to -stay here Aye, and told me this screwed chair was mine. Here, then, I'll -seat me, against the transom, in the ship's full middle, all her keel and -her three masts before me. Here, our old sailors say, in their black -seventyfours great admirals sometimes sit at table, and lord it over rows -of captains and lieutenants. Ha what's this? epaulets epaulets the -epaulets all come crowding Pass round the decanters glad to see ye fill -up, monsieurs What an odd feeling, now, when a black boy's host to white men -with gold lace upon their coats Monsieurs, have ye seen one Pip? a little -negro lad, five feet high, hangdog look, and cowardly Jumped from a -whaleboat once seen him? No Well then, fill up again, captains, and -let's drink shame upon all cowards I name no names. Shame upon them Put -one foot upon the table. Shame upon all cowards. Hist above there, I hear -ivory Oh, master, master I am indeed downhearted when you walk over me. -But here I'll stay, though this stern strikes rocks and they bulge -through and oysters come to join me. -wheelbarrow next morning, Monday, after disposing of -the embalmed head to a barber, for a block, I settled my own and comrade's -bill using, however, my comrade's money. The grinning landlord, as well as -the boarders, seemed amazingly tickled at the sudden friendship which had -sprung up between me and Queequeg especially as Peter Coffin's cock and bull -stories about him had previously so much alarmed me concerning the very person -whom I now companied with. We borrowed a wheelbarrow, and embarking our -things, including my own poor carpetbag, and Queequeg's canvas sack and -hammock, away we went down to the Moss, the little Nantucket packet -schooner moored at the wharf. As we were going along the people stared not -at Queequeg so much for they were used to seeing cannibals like him in their -streets, but at seeing him and me upon such confidential terms. But we -heeded them not, going along wheeling the barrow by turns, and Queequeg now -and then stopping to adjust the sheath on his harpoon barbs. I asked him why -he carried such a troublesome thing with him ashore, and whether all whaling -ships did not find their own harpoons. To this, in substance, he replied, -that though what I hinted was true enough, yet he had a particular affection -for his own harpoon, because it was of assured stuff, well tried in many a -mortal combat, and deeply intimate with the hearts of whales. In short, like -many inland reapers and mowers, who go into the farmers' meadows armed with -their own scythes though in no wise obliged to furnished them even so, -Queequeg, for his own private reasons, preferred his own harpoon. Shifting -the barrow from my hand to his, he told me a funny story about the first -wheelbarrow he had ever seen. It was in Sag Harbor. The owners of his ship, -it seems, had lent him one, -in which to carry his heavy chest to his boarding house. Not to seem ignorant -about the thing though in truth he was entirely so, concerning the precise -way in which to manage the barrow Queequeg puts his chest upon it lashes -it fast and then shoulders the barrow and marches up the wharf. Why, said -I, Queequeg, you might have known better than that, one would think. Didn't -the people laugh? Upon this, he told me another story. The people of his -island of Rokovoko, it seems, at their wedding feasts express the fragrant -water of young cocoanuts into a large stained calabash like a punchbowl and -this punchbowl always forms the great central ornament on the braided mat -where the feast is held. Now a certain grand merchant ship once touched at -Rokovoko, and its commander from all accounts, a very stately punctilious -gentleman, at least for a sea captain this commander was invited to the -wedding feast of Queequeg's sister, a pretty young princess just turned of -ten. Well when all the wedding guests were assembled at the bride's bamboo -cottage, this Captain marches in, and being assigned the post of honor, -placed himself over against the punchbowl, and between the High Priest and -his majesty the King, Queequeg's father. Grace being said, for those people -have their grace as well as we though Queequeg told me that unlike us, who -at such times look downwards to our platters, they, on the contrary, copying -the ducks, glance upwards to the great Giver of all feasts Grace, I say, -being said, the High Priest opens the banquet by the immemorial ceremony of -the island that is, dipping his consecrated and consecrating fingers into -the bowl before the blessed beverage circulates. Seeing himself placed next -the Priest, and noting the ceremony, and thinking himself being Captain of -a ship as having plain precedence over a mere island King, especially in the -King's own house the Captain coolly proceeds to wash his hands in the punch -bowl taking it i suppose for a huge fingerglass. now, said Queequeg, -what you tink now, Didn't our people laugh? At last, passage paid, and -luggage safe, we stood on board the schooner. Hoisting sail, it glided down -the Acushnet river. On -one side, New Bedford rose in terraces of streets, their icecovered trees -all glittering in the clear, cold air. Huge hills and mountains of casks on -casks were piled upon her wharves, and side by side the worldwandering whale -ships lay silent and safely moored at last while from others came a sound of -carpenters and coopers, with blended noises of fires and forges to melt the -pitch, all betokening that new cruises were on the start that one most -perilous and long voyage ended, only begins a second and a second ended, -only begins a third, and so on, for ever and for aye. Such is the -endlessness, yea, the intolerableness of all earthly effort. Gaining the -more open water, the bracing breeze waxed fresh the little Moss tossed the -quick foam from her bows, as a young colt his snortings. How I snuffed that -Tartar air how I spurned that turnpike earth that common highway all over -dented with the marks of slavish heels and hoofs and turned me to admire the -magnanimity of the sea which will permit no records. At the same -foamfountain, Queequeg seemed to drink and reel with me. His dusky nostrils -swelled apart he showed his filed and pointed teeth. On, on we flew, and -our offing gained, the Moss did homage to the blast ducked and dived her -brows as a slave before the Sultan. Sideways leaning, we sideways darted -every ropeyarn tingling like a wire the two tall masts buckling like Indian -canes in land tornadoes. So full of this reeling scene were we, as we stood -by the plunging bowsprit, that for some time we did not notice the jeering -glances of the passengers, a lubberlike assembly, who marvelled that two -fellow beings should be so companionable as though a white man were anything -more dignified than a whitewashed negro. But there were some boobies and -bumpkins there, who, by their intense greenness, must have come from the heart -and centre of all verdure. Queequeg caught one of these young saplings -mimicking him behind his back. I thought the bumpkin's hour of doom was come. -Dropping his harpoon, the brawny savage caught him in his arms, and by an -almost miraculous dexterity and strength, sent him high up bodily into the -air then slightly -tapping his stern in midsomerset, the fellow landed with bursting lungs upon -his feet, while Queequeg, turning his back upon him, lighted his tomahawk -pipe and passed it to me for a puff. Capting Capting yelled the -bumpkin, running towards that officer Capting, Capting, here's the devil. -Hallo, you sir, cried the Captain, a gaunt rib of the sea, stalking up to -Queequeg, what in thunder do you mean by that? Don't you know you might have -killed that chap? What him say? said Queequeg, as he mildly turned to me. -He say, said I, that you came near kille that man there, pointing to the -still shivering greenhorn. Kille, cried Queequeg, twisting his tattooed -face into an unearthly expression of disdain, ah him bevy smalle fishe -Queequeg no kille so smalle fishe Queequeg kille big whale Look you, -roared the Captain, I'll kille you, you cannibal, if you try any more of -your tricks aboard here so mind your eye. But it so happened just then, -that it was high time for the Captain to mind his own eye. The prodigious -strain upon the mainsail had parted the weathersheet, and the tremendous -boom was now flying from side to side, completely sweeping the entire after -part of the deck. The poor fellow whom Queequeg had handled so roughly, was -swept overboard all hands were in a panic and to attempt snatching at the -boom to stay it, seemed madness. It flew from right to left, and back again, -almost in one ticking of a watch, and every instant seemed on the point of -snapping into splinters. Nothing was done, and nothing seemed capable of -being done those on deck rushed towards the bows, and stood eyeing the boom -as if it were the lower jaw of an exasperated whale. In the midst of this -consternation, Queequeg dropped deftly to his knees, and crawling under the -path of the boom, whipped hold of a rope, secured one end to the bulwarks, -and then flinging the other like a lasso, caught it round the boom as it swept -over his head, and at the next jerk, the spar was that way trapped, and all -was safe. The schooner was run into the wind, and while the hands were -clearing away the stern boat, Queequeg, stripped to the waist, darted from -the side with a long living arc of a leap. For three -minutes or more he was seen swimming like a dog, throwing his long arms -straight out before him, and by turns revealing his brawny shoulders through -the freezing foam. I looked at the grand and glorious fellow, but saw no one -to be saved. The greenhorn had gone down. Shooting himself perpendicularly -from the water, Queequeg now took an instant's glance around him, and -seeming to see just how matters were, dived down and disappeared. A few -minutes more, and he rose again, one arm still striking out, and with the -other dragging a lifeless form. The boat soon picked them up. The poor -bumpkin was restored. All hands voted Queequeg a noble trump the captain -begged his pardon. From that hour I clove to Queequeg like a barnacle yea, -till poor Queequeg took his last long dive. Was there ever such -unconsciousness? He did not seem to think that he at all deserved a medal -from the Humane and Magnanimous Societies. He only asked for water fresh -water something to wipe the brine off that done, he put on dry clothes, -lighted his pipe, and leaning against the bulwarks, and mildly eyeing those -around him, seemed to be saying to himself It's a mutual, jointstock -world, in all meridians. We cannibals must help these Christians. -And now that at the proper time and place, -after so long and wide a preliminary cruise, Ahab, all other whaling waters -swept seemed to have chased his foe into an oceanfold, to slay him the more -securely there now, that he found himself hard by the very latitude and -longitude where his tormenting wound -had been inflicted now that a vessel had been spoken which on the very day -preceding had actually encountered Moby Dick and now that all his successive -meetings with various ships contrastingly concurred to show the demoniac -indifference with which the white whale tore his hunters, whether sinning or -sinned against now it was that there lurked a something in the old man's -eyes, which it was hardly sufferable for feeble souls to see. As the -unsetting polar star, which through the livelong, arctic, six months' night -sustains its piercing, steady, central gaze so Ahab's purpose now fixedly -gleamed down upon the constant midnight of the gloomy crew. It domineered -above them so, that all their bodings, doubts, misgivings, fears, were fain -to hide beneath their souls, and not sprout forth a single spear or leaf. In -this foreshadowing interval too, all humor, forced or natural, vanished. -Stubb no more strove to raise a smile Starbuck no more strove to check one. -Alike, joy and sorrow, hope and fear, seemed ground to finest dust, and -powdered, for the time, in the clamped mortar of ahab's iron soul. like -machines, they dumbly moved about the deck, ever conscious that the old -man's despot eye was on them. But did you deeply scan him in his more secret -confidential hours when he thought no glance but one was on him then you -would have seen that even as Ahab's eyes so awed the crew's, the inscrutable -Parsee's glance awed his or somehow, at least, in some wild way, at times -affected it. Such an added, gliding strangeness began to invest the thin -Fedallah now such ceaseless shudderings shook him that the men looked -dubious at him half uncertain, as it seemed, whether indeed he were a -mortal substance, or else a tremulous shadow cast upon the deck by some -unseen being's body. And that shadow was always hovering there. For not by -night, even, had Fedallah ever certainly been known to slumber, or go below. -He would stand still for hours but never sat or leaned his wan but -wondrous eyes did plainly say We two watchmen never rest. Nor, at any time, -by night or day could the mariners now step up the deck, unless Ahab was -before them either standing in his pivothole, or exactly pacing the planks -between two -undeviating limits, the mainmast and the mizen or else they saw him -standing in the cabinscuttle, his living foot advanced upon the deck, as if -to step his hat slouched heavily over his eyes so that however motionless -he stood, however the days and nights were added on, that he had not swung -in his hammock yet hidden beneath that slouching hat, they could never tell -unerringly whether, for all this, his eyes were really closed at times or -whether he was still intently scanning them no matter, though he stood so -in the scuttle for a whole hour on the stretch, and the unheeded nightdamp -gathered in beads of dew upon that stonecarved coat and hat. The clothes -that the night had wet, the next day's sunshine dried upon him and so, -day after day, and night after night he went no more beneath the planks -whatever he wanted from the cabin that thing he sent for. He ate in the same -open air that is, his two only meals, breakfast and dinner supper he -never touched nor reaped his beard which darkly grew all gnarled, as -unearthed roots of trees blown over, which still grow idly on at naked base, -though perished in the upper verdure. But though his whole life was now -become one watch on deck and though the Parsee's mystic watch was without -intermission as his own yet these two never seemed to speak one man to the -other unless at long intervals some passing unmomentous matter made it -necessary. Though such a potent spell seemed secretly to join the twain -openly, and to the awestruck crew, they seemed polelike asunder. If by day -they chanced to speak one word by night, dumb men were both, so far as -concerned the slightest verbal interchange. At times, for longest hours, -without a single hail, they stood far parted in the starlight Ahab in his -scuttle, the Parsee by the mainmast but still fixedly gazing upon each -other as if in the Parsee Ahab saw his forethrown shadow, in Ahab the -Parsee his abandoned substance. And yet, somehow, did Ahab in his own proper -self, as daily, hourly, and every instant, commandingly revealed to his -subordinates, Ahab seemed an independent lord the Parsee but his slave. -Still again both seemed yoked together, and an unseen -tyrant driving them the lean shade siding the solid rib. For be this Parsee -what he may, all rib and keel was solid Ahab. At the first faintest -glimmering of the dawn, his iron voice was heard from aft Man the -mastheads and all through the day, till after sunset and after twilight, -the same voice every hour, at the striking of the helmsman's bell, was heard -What d'ye see? sharp sharp But when three or four days had slided by, -after meeting the childrenseeking Rachel and no spout had yet been seen -the monomaniac old man seemed distrustful of his crew's fidelity at least, -of nearly all except the Pagan harpooneers he seemed to doubt, even, whether -Stubb and Flask might not willingly overlook the sight he sought. But if -these suspicions were really his, he sagaciously refrained from verbally -expressing them, however his actions might seem to hint them. I will have -the first sight of the whale myself, he said. Aye Ahab must have the -doubloon and with his own hands he rigged a nest of basketed bowlines and -sending a hand aloft, with a single sheaved block, to secure to the -mainmast head, he received the two ends of the downwardreeved rope and -attaching one to his basket prepared a pin for the other end, in order to -fasten it at the rail. This done, with that end yet in his hand and standing -beside the pin, he looked round upon his crew, sweeping from one to the -other pausing his glance long upon Daggoo, Queequeg, Tashtego but shunning -Fedallah and then settling his firm relying eye upon the chief mate, said, -Take the rope, sir I give it into thy hands, Starbuck. Then arranging -his person in the basket, he gave the word for them to hoist him to his -perch, Starbuck being the one who secured the rope at last and afterwards -stood near it. And thus, with one hand clinging round the royal mast, Ahab -gazed abroad upon the sea for miles and miles, ahead, astern, this side, and -that, within the wide expanded circle commanded at so great a height. When -in working with his hands at some lofty almost isolated place in the rigging, -which chances to afford no foothold, the sailor at sea is hoisted up to that -spot, and sustained there by -the rope under these circumstances, its fastened end on deck is always given -in strict charge to some one man who has the special watch of it. Because in -such a wilderness of running rigging, whose various different relations aloft -cannot always be infallibly discerned by what is seen of them at the deck -and when the deckends of these ropes are being every few minutes cast down -from the fastenings, it would be but a natural fatality, if, unprovided with -a constant watchman, the hoisted sailor should by some carelessness of the -crew be cast adrift and fall all swooping to the sea. So Ahab's proceedings -in this matter were not unusual the only strange thing about them seemed to -be, that Starbuck, almost the one only man who had ever ventured to oppose -him with anything in the slightest degree approaching to decision one of -those too, whose faithfulness on the lookout he had seemed to doubt somewhat -it was strange, that this was the very man he should select for his watchman -freely giving his whole life into such an otherwise distrusted person's -hands. Now, the first time Ahab was perched aloft ere he had been there ten -minutes one of those redbilled savage seahawks which so often fly -incommodiously close round the manned mastheads of whalemen in these -latitudes one of these birds came wheeling and screaming round his head in a -maze of untrackably swift circlings. Then it darted a thousand feet straight -up into the air then spiralized downwards, and went eddying again round his -head. But with his gaze fixed upon the dim and distant horizon, Ahab seemed -not to mark this wild bird nor, indeed, would any one else have marked it -much, it being no uncommon circumstance only now almost the least heedful -eye seemed to see some sort of cunning meaning in almost every sight. Your -hat, your hat, sir suddenly cried the Sicilian seaman, who being posted at -the mizenmasthead, stood directly behind Ahab, though somewhat lower than -his level, and with a deep gulf of air dividing them. But already the sable -wing was before the old man's eyes the long hooked bill at his head with a -scream, the black hawk darted away with his prize. -an eagle flew thrice round Tarquin's head, removing his cap to replace it, -and thereupon Tanaquil, his wife, declared that Tarquin would be king of Rome. -But only by the replacing of the cap was that omen accounted good. Ahab's -hat was never restored the wild hawk flew on and on with it far in -advance of the prow and at last disappeared while from the point of that -disappearance, a minute black spot was dimly discerned, falling from that vast -height into the sea. -The intense Pequod -sailed on the rolling waves and days went by the lifebuoycoffin still -lightly swung and another ship, most miserably misnamed the Delight, was -descried. As she drew nigh, all eyes were fixed upon her broad beams, -called shears, which, in some whalingships, cross the quarterdeck at the -height of eight or nine feet serving to carry the spare, unrigged, or -disabled boats. Upon the stranger's shears were beheld the shattered, white -ribs, and some few splintered planks, of what had once been a whaleboat but -you now saw through this wreck, as plainly as you see through the peeled, -halfunhinged, and bleaching skeleton of a horse. Hast seen the White -Whale? Look replied the hollowcheeked captain from his taffrail and -with his trumpet he pointed to the wreck. Hast killed him? The harpoon is -not yet forged that will ever do that, answered the other, sadly glancing -upon a rounded hammock on the deck, whose gathered sides some noiseless -sailors were busy in sewing together. Not forged and snatching Perth's -levelled iron from the crotch, Ahab held it out, exclaiming Look ye, -Nantucketer -here in this hand I hold his death Tempered in blood, and tempered by -lightning are these barbs and I swear to temper them triply in that hot -place behind the fin, where the white whale most feels his accursed life -Then God keep thee, old man see'st thou that pointing to the hammock I -bury but one of five stout men, who were alive only yesterday but were dead -ere night. Only that one I bury the rest were buried before they died -you sail upon their tomb. Then turning to his crew Are ye ready there? -place the plank then on the rail, and lift the body so, then Oh God -advancing towards the hammock with uplifted hands may the resurrection and -the life Brace forward Up helm cried Ahab like lightning to his men. -But the suddenly started Pequod was not quick enough to escape the sound of -the splash that the corpse soon made as it struck the sea not so quick, -indeed, but that some of the flying bubbles might have sprinkled her hull with -their ghostly baptism. As Ahab now glided from the dejected Delight, the -strange lifebuoy hanging at the Pequod's stern came into conspicuous relief. -Ha yonder look yonder, men cried a foreboding voice in her wake. In -vain, oh, ye strangers, ye fly our sad burial ye but turn us your taffrail -to show us your coffin -It was a clear steelblue day. The -firmaments of air and sea were hardly separable in that allpervading azure -only, the pensive air was transparently pure and soft, with a woman's look, -and the robust and manlike sea heaved with long, strong, lingering swells, -as Samson's chest in his sleep. -Hither, and thither, on high, glided the snowwhite wings of small, -unspeckled birds these were the gentle thoughts of the feminine air but to -and fro in the deeps, far down in the bottomless blue, rushed mighty -leviathans, swordfish, and sharks and these were the strong, troubled, -murderous thinkings of the masculine sea. But though thus contrasting within, -the contrast was only in shades and shadows without those two seemed one -it was only the sex, as it were, that distinguished them. Aloft, like a royal -czar and king, the sun seemed giving this gentle air to this bold and rolling -sea even as bride to groom. And at the girdling line of the horizon, a -soft and tremulous motion most seen here at the equator denoted the fond, -throbbing trust, the loving alarms, with which the poor bride gave her bosom -away. Tied up and twisted gnarled and knotted with wrinkles haggardly firm -and unyielding his eyes glowing like coals, that still glow in the ashes of -ruin untottering Ahab stood forth in the clearness of the morn lifting his -splintered helmet of a brow to the fair girl's forehead of heaven. Oh, -immortal infancy, and innocency of the azure Invisible winged creatures -that frolic all round us Sweet childhood of air and sky how oblivious were -ye of old Ahab's closecoiled woe But so have I seen little Miriam and -Martha, laughingeyed elves, heedlessly gambol around their old sire -sporting with the circle of singed locks which grew on the marge of that -burntout crater of his brain. Slowly crossing the deck from the scuttle, -Ahab leaned over the side, and watched how his shadow in the water sank and -sank to his gaze, the more and the more that he strove to pierce the -profundity. But the lovely aromas in that enchanted air did at last seem to -dispel, for a moment, the cankerous thing in his soul. That glad, happy air, -that winsome sky, did at last stroke and caress him the stepmother world, -so long cruel forbidding now threw affectionate arms round his stubborn -neck, and did seem to joyously sob over him, as if over one, that however -wilful and erring, she could yet find it in her -heart to save and to bless. From beneath his slouched hat Ahab dropped a tear -into the sea nor did all the pacific contain such wealth as that one wee -drop. Starbuck saw the old man saw him, how he heavily leaned over the -side and he seemed to hear in his own true heart the measureless sobbing -that stole out of the centre of the serenity around. Careful not to touch -him, or be noticed by him, he yet drew near to him, and stood there. Ahab -turned. Starbuck Sir. Oh, Starbuck it is a mild, mild wind, and a -mild looking sky. On such a day very much such a sweetness as this I -struck my first whale a boyharpooneer of eighteen Forty fortyforty years -ago ago Forty years of continual whaling forty years of privation, and -peril, and stormtime forty years on the pitiless sea for forty years has -Ahab forsaken the peaceful land, for forty years to make war on the horrors -of the deep Aye and yes, Starbuck, out of those forty years I have not spent -three ashore. When I think of this life I have led the desolation of -solitude it has been the masoned, walledtown of a Captain's exclusiveness, -which admits but small entrance to any sympathy from the green country without -oh, weariness heaviness Guineacoast slavery of solitary command when -I think of all this only halfsuspected, not so keenly known to me before -and how for forty years I have fed upon dry salted fare fit emblem of the -dry nourishment of my soul when the poorest landsman has had fresh fruit to -his daily hand, and broken the world's fresh bread to my mouldy crusts away, -whole oceans away, from that young girlwife I wedded past fifty, and -sailed for Cape Horn the next day, leaving but one dent in my marriage -pillow wife? wife? rather a widow with her husband alive Aye, I widowed -that poor girl when I married her, Starbuck and then, the madness, the -frenzy, the boiling blood and the smoking brow, with which, for a thousand -lowerings old Ahab has furiously, foamingly chased his prey more a demon -than a man aye, aye what a forty years' fool fool old fool, has old -Ahab been Why this strife of the chase? why weary, -and palsy the arm at the oar, and the iron, and the lance? how the richer or -better is Ahab now? Behold. Oh, Starbuck is it not hard, that with this -weary load I bear, one poor leg should have been snatched from under me? -Here, brush this old hair aside it blinds me, that I seem to weep. Locks -so grey did never grow but from out some ashes But do I look very old, so -very, very old, Starbuck? I feel deadly faint, bowed, and humped, as though -I were Adam, staggering beneath the piled centuries since Paradise. God -God God crack my heart stave my brain mockery mockery bitter, -biting mockery of grey hairs, have I lived enough joy to wear ye and seem -and feel thus intolerably old? Close stand close to me, Starbuck let me -look into a human eye it is better than to gaze into sea or sky better -than to gaze upon God. By the green land by the bright hearthstone this -is the magic glass, man I see my wife and my child in thine eye. No, no -stay on board, on board lower not when I do when branded Ahab gives chase -to Moby Dick. That hazard shall not be thine. No, no not with the far -away home I see in that eye Oh, my Captain my Captain noble soul -grand old heart, after all why should any one give chase to that hated fish -Away with me let us fly these deadly waters let us home Wife and child, -too, are Starbuck's wife and child of his brotherly, sisterly, playfellow -youth even as thine, sir, are the wife and child of thy loving, longing, -paternal old age Away let us away this instant let me alter the course -How cheerily, how hilariously, O my Captain, would we bowl on our way to -see old Nantucket again I think, sir, they have some such mild blue days, -even as this, in nantucket. they have, they have. I have seen them some -summer days in the morning. About this time yes, it is his noon nap now -the boy vivaciously wakes sits up in bed and his mother tells him of me, -of cannibal old me how I am abroad upon the deep, but will yet come back to -dance him again. Tis my Mary, my Mary herself She promised that my boy, -every morning, should be carried to the hill to catch the first glimpse of -his father's sail Yes, yes no more it is done we head for Nantucket -Come, my Captain, study out the course, -and let us away See, see the boy's face from the window the boy's hand -on the hill But Ahab's glance was averted like a blighted fruit tree he -shook, and cast his last, cindered apple to the soil. What is it, what -nameless, inscrutable, unearthly thing is it what cozzening, hidden lord and -master, and cruel, remorseless emperor commands me that against all natural -lovings and longings, I so keep pushing, and crowding, and jamming myself on -all the time recklessly making me ready to do what in my own proper, natural -heart, I durst not so much as dare? Is Ahab, Ahab? Is it I, God, or who, -that lifts this arm? But if the great sun move not of himself but is as an -errandboy in heaven nor one single star can revolve, but by some invisible -power how then can this one small heart beat this one small brain think -thoughts unless God does that beating, does that thinking, does that -living, and not I. By heaven, man, we are turned round and round in this -world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, -lo that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea Look see yon Albicore who -put it into him to chase and fang that flyingfish? Where do murderers go, -man Who's to doom, when the judge himself is dragged to the bar? But it is -a mild, mild wind, and a mild looking sky and the air smells now, as if it -blew from a faraway meadow they have been making hay somewhere under the -slopes of the Andes, Starbuck, and the mowers are sleeping among the -newmown hay. Sleeping? Aye, toil we how we may, we all sleep at last on the -field. Sleep? Aye, and rust amid greenness as last year's scythes flung -down, and left in the halfcut swaths Starbuck But blanched to a -corpse's hue with despair, the Mate had stolen away. Ahab crossed the deck -to gaze over on the other side but started at two reflected, fixed eyes in -the water there. Fedallah was motionlessly leaning over the same rail. -That night, in the midwatch, -when the old man as his wont at intervals stepped forth from the scuttle in -which he leaned, and went to his pivothole, he suddenly thrust out his -face fiercely, snuffing up the sea air as a sagacious ship's dog will, in -drawing nigh to some barbarous isle. He declared that a whale must be near. -Soon that peculiar odor, sometimes to a great distance given forth by the -living sperm whale, was palpable to all the watch nor was any mariner -surprised when, after inspecting the compass, and then the dogvane, and -then ascertaining the precise bearing of the odor as nearly as possible, Ahab -rapidly ordered the ship's course to be slightly altered, and the sail to be -shortened. The acute policy dictating these movements was sufficiently -vindicated at daybreak, by the sight of a long sleek on the sea directly and -lengthwise ahead, smooth as oil, and resembling in the pleated watery -wrinkles bordering it, the polished metalliclike marks of some swift -tiderip, at the mouth of a deep, rapid stream. Man the mastheads Call -all hands Thundering with the butts of three clubbed handspikes on the -forecastle deck, Daggoo roused the sleepers with such judgment claps that -they seemed to exhale from the scuttle, so instantaneously did they appear -with their clothes in their hands. What d'ye see? cried Ahab, flattening -his face to the sky. Nothing, nothing, sir was the sound hailing down in -reply. T'gallant sails stunsails alow and aloft, and on both sides All -sail being set, he now cast loose the lifeline, reserved for swaying him to -the main royalmast head and in a few moments they were hoisting him -thither, when, while but two thirds of the way aloft, and while peering -ahead through the horizontal vacancy between the maintopsail and -topgallantsail, -he raised a gulllike cry in the air, There she blows there she blows A -hump like a snowhill It is Moby Dick Fired by the cry which seemed -simultaneously taken up by the three lookouts, the men on deck rushed to the -rigging to behold the famous whale they had so long been pursuing. Ahab had -now gained his final perch, some feet above the other lookouts, Tashtego -standing just beneath him on the cap of the topgallant mast, so that the -Indian's head was almost on a level with Ahab's heel. From this height the -whale was now seen some mile or so ahead, at every roll of the sea revealing -his high sparkling hump, and regularly jetting his silent spout into the air. -To the credulous mariners it seemed the same silent spout they had so long -ago beheld in the moonlit Atlantic and Indian Oceans. And did none of ye see -it before? cried Ahab, hailing the perched men all around him. I saw him -almost that same instant, sir, that Captain Ahab did, and I cried out, said -Tashtego. Not the same instant not the same no, the doubloon is mine, -Fate reserved the doubloon for me. I only none of ye could have raised the -White Whale first. There she blows there she blows there she blows -There again there again he cried, in longdrawn, lingering, methodic -tones, attuned to the gradual prolongings of the whale's visible jets. He's -going to sound In stunsails Down topgallantsails Stand by three -boats. Mr. Starbuck, remember, stay on board, and keep the ship. Helm -there Luff, luff a point So steady, man, steady There go flukes No, -no only black water All ready the boats there? Stand by, stand by -Lower me, Mr. Starbuck lower, lower, quick, quicker and he slid through -the air to the deck. He is heading straight to leeward, sir, cried Stubb, -right away from us cannot have seen the ship yet. Be dumb, man Stand -by the braces Hard down the helm brace up Shiver her shiver her So -well that Boats, boats Soon all the boats but Starbuck's were dropped -all the boatsails set all the paddles plying with rippling swiftness, -shooting to leeward and Ahab heading the onset. A pale, deathglimmer -lit up Fedallah's sunken eyes a hideous motion gnawed his mouth. Like -noiseless nautilus shells, their light prows sped through the sea but only -slowly they neared the foe. As they neared him, the ocean grew still more -smooth seemed drawing a carpet over its waves seemed a noonmeadow, so -serenely it spread. At length the breathless hunter came so nigh his -seemingly unsuspecting prey, that his entire dazzling hump was distinctly -visible, sliding along the sea as if an isolated thing, and continually -set in a revolving ring of finest, fleecy, greenish foam. He saw the vast, -involved wrinkles of the slightly projecting head beyond. Before it, far out -on the soft Turkishrugged waters, went the glistening white shadow from his -broad, milky forehead, a musical rippling playfully accompanying the shade -and behind, the blue waters interchangeably flowed over into the moving valley -of his steady wake and on either hand bright bubbles arose and danced by his -side. But these were broken again by the light toes of hundreds of gay fowl -softly feathering the sea, alternate with their fitful flight and like to -some flagstaff rising from the painted hull of an argosy, the tall but -shattered pole of a recent lance projected from the white whale's back and -at intervals one of the cloud of softtoed fowls hovering, and to and fro -skimming like a canopy over the fish, silently perched and rocked on this -pole, the long tail feathers streaming like pennons. A gentle joyousness a -mighty mildness of repose in swiftness, invested the gliding whale. Not the -white bull Jupiter swimming away with ravished Europa clinging to his graceful -horns his lovely, leering eyes sideways intent upon the maid with smooth -bewitching fleetness, rippling straight for the nuptial bower in Crete not -Jove, not that great majesty Supreme did surpass the glorified White Whale -as he so divinely swam. On each soft side coincident with the parted swell, -that but once leaving him, then flowed so wide away on each bright side, -the whale shed off enticings. No wonder there had been some among the hunters -who namelessly transported and allured by all this serenity, had ventured to -assail it but had fatally -found that quietude but the vesture of tornadoes. Yet calm, enticing calm, -oh, whale thou glidest on, to all who for the first time eye thee, no -matter how many in that same way thou may'st have bejuggled and destroyed -before. And thus, through the serene tranquillities of the tropical sea, -among waves whose handclappings were suspended by exceeding rapture, Moby -Dick moved on, still withholding from sight the full terrors of his submerged -trunk, entirely hiding the wrenched hideousness of his jaw. But soon the -fore part of him slowly rose from the water for an instant his whole -marbleized body formed a high arch, like Virginia's Natural Bridge, and -warningly waving his bannered flukes in the air, the grand god revealed -himself, sounded, and went out of sight. Hoveringly halting, and dipping on -the wing, the white seafowls longingly lingered over the agitated pool that -he left. With oars apeak, and paddles down, the sheets of their sails -adrift, the three boats now stilly floated, awaiting Moby Dick's -reappearance. An hour, said Ahab, standing rooted in his boat's stern -and he gazed beyond the whale's place, towards the dim blue spaces and wide -wooing vacancies to leeward. It was only an instant for again his eyes -seemed whirling round in his head as he swept the watery circle. The breeze -now freshened the sea began to swell. The birds the birds cried -Tashtego. In long Indian file, as when herons take wing, the white birds -were now all flying towards Ahab's boat and when within a few yards began -fluttering over the water there, wheeling round and round, with joyous, -expectant cries. Their vision was keener than man's Ahab could discover no -sign in the sea. But suddenly as he peered down and down into its depths, he -profoundly saw a white living spot no bigger than a white weasel, with -wonderful celerity uprising, and magnifying as it rose, till it turned, and -then there were plainly revealed two long crooked rows of white, glistening -teeth, floating up from the undiscoverable bottom. It was Moby Dick's open -mouth and scrolled jaw his vast, shadowed bulk still half blending with the -blue of the sea. The glittering mouth yawned beneath -the boat like an opendoored marble tomb and giving one sidelong sweep with -his steering oar, Ahab whirled the craft aside from this tremendous -apparition. Then, calling upon Fedallah to change places with him, went -forward to the bows, and seizing Perth's harpoon, commanded his crew to -grasp their oars and stand by to stern. Now, by reason of this timely -spinning round the boat upon its axis, its bow, by anticipation, was made to -face the whale's head while yet under water. But as if perceiving this -strategem, moby dick, with that malicious intelligence ascribed to him, -sidelingly transplanted himself, as it were, in an instant, shooting his -pleated head lengthwise beneath the boat. Through and through through every -plank and each rib, it thrilled for an instant, the whale obliquely lying on -his back, in the manner of a biting shark, slowly and feelingly taking its -bows full within his mouth, so that the long, narrow, scrolled lower jaw -curled high up into the open air, and one of the teeth caught in a rowlock. -The bluish pearlwhite of the inside of the jaw was within six inches of -Ahab's head, and reached higher than that. In this attitude the White Whale -now shook the slight cedar as a mildly cruel cat her mouse. With unastonished -eyes Fedallah gazed, and crossed his arms but the tigeryellow crew were -tumbling over each other's heads to gain the uttermost stern. And now, while -both elastic gunwales were springing in and out, as the whale dallied with -the doomed craft in this devilish way and from his body being submerged -beneath the boat, he could not be darted at from the bows, for the bows were -almost inside of him, as it were and while the other boats involuntarily -paused, as before a quick crisis impossible to withstand, then it was that -monomaniac Ahab, furious with this tantalizing vicinity of his foe, which -placed him all alive and helpless in the very jaws he hated frenzied with -all this, he seized the long bone with his naked hands, and wildly strove to -wrench it from its gripe. As now he thus vainly strove, the jaw slipped -from him the frail gunwales bent in, collapsed, and snapped, as both jaws, -like an enormous shears, sliding further aft, bit the craft completely in -twain, and locked themselves fast again in -the sea, midway between the two floating wrecks. These floated aside, the -broken ends drooping, the crew at the sternwreck clinging to the gunwales, -and striving to hold fast to the oars to lash them across. At that preluding -moment, ere the boat was yet snapped, Ahab, the first to perceive the whale's -intent, by the crafty upraising of his head, a movement that loosed his -hold for the time at that moment his hand had made one final effort to push -the boat out of the bite. But only slipping further into the whale's mouth, -and tilting over sideways as it slipped, the boat had shaken off his hold on -the jaw spilled him out of it, as he leaned to the push and so he fell -flatfaced upon the sea. Ripplingly withdrawing from his prey, Moby Dick now -lay at a little distance, vertically thrusting his oblong white head up and -down in the billows and at the same time slowly revolving his whole spindled -body so that when his vast wrinkled forehead rose some twenty or more feet -out of the water the now rising swells, with all their confluent waves, -dazzlingly broke against it vindictively tossing their shivered spray still -higher into the air. So, in a gale, the but halfbaffled Channel billows only -recoil from the base of the Eddystone, triumphantly to overleap its summit -with their scud. But soon resuming his horizontal attitude, Moby Dick swam -swiftly round and round the wrecked crew sideways churning the water in his -vengeful wake, as if lashing himself up to still another and more deadly -assault. The sight of the splintered boat seemed to madden him, as the blood -of grapes and mulberries cast before Antiochus's elephants in the book of -Maccabees. Meanwhile Ahab half smothered in the foam of the whale's insolent -tail, and too much of a cripple to swim, though he could still keep afloat, -even in the heart of such a whirlpool as that helpless Ahab's head was seen, -like a tossed bubble which the least chance shock might burst. From the -boat's fragmentary -stern, Fedallah incuriously and mildly eyed him the clinging crew, at the -other drifting end, could not succor him more than enough was it for them -to look to themselves. For so revolvingly appalling was the White Whale's -aspect, and so planetarily swift the evercontracting circles he made, that -he seemed horizontally swooping upon them. And though the other boats, -unharmed, still hovered hard by still they dared not pull into the eddy to -strike, lest that should be the signal for the instant destruction of the -jeopardized castaways, Ahab and all nor in that case could they themselves -hope to escape. With straining eyes, then, they remained on the outer edge -of the direful zone, whose centre had now become the old man's head. -Meantime, from the beginning all this had been descried from the ship's mast -heads and squaring her yards, she had borne down upon the scene and was -now so nigh, that Ahab in the water hailed her Sail on the but that -moment a breaking sea dashed on him from Moby Dick, and whelmed him for the -time. But struggling out of it again, and chancing to rise on a towering -crest, he shouted, Sail on the whale Drive him off The Pequod's -prows were pointed and breaking up the charmed circle, she effectually -parted the white whale from his victim. As he sullenly swam off, the boats -flew to the rescue. Dragged into Stubb's boat with bloodshot, blinded eyes, -the white brine caking in his wrinkles the long tension of Ahab's bodily -strength did crack, and helplessly he yielded to his body's doom for a -time, lying all crushed in the bottom of Stubb's boat, like one trodden under -foot of herds of elephants. Far inland, nameless wails came from him, as -desolate sounds from out ravines. But this intensity of his physical -prostration did but so much the more abbreviate it. In an instant's compass, -great hearts sometimes condense to one deep pang, the sum total of those -shallow pains kindly diffused through feebler men's whole lives. And so, such -hearts, though summary in each one suffering still, if the gods decree it, -in their lifetime aggregate a whole age of woe, wholly made up of -instantaneous intensities for even in their pointless centres, those noble -natures contain the entire circumferences of inferior souls. -The harpoon, said Ahab, half way rising, and draggingly leaning on one -bended arm is it safe? Aye, sir, for it was not darted this is it, said -Stubb, showing it. Lay it before me any missing men? One, two, three, -four, five there were five oars, sir, and here are five men. That's -good. Help me, man I wish to stand. So, so, I see him there there -going to leeward still what a leaping spout Hands off from me The eternal -sap runs up in Ahab's bones again Set the sail out oars the helm It -is often the case that when a boat is stove, its crew, being picked up by -another boat, help to work that second boat and the chase is thus continued -with what is called doublebanked oars. It was thus now. But the added power -of the boat did not equal the added power of the whale, for he seemed to have -treblebanked his every fin swimming with a velocity which plainly showed, -that if now, under these circumstances, pushed on, the chase would prove an -indefinitely prolonged, if not a hopeless one nor could any crew endure for -so long a period, such an unintermitted, intense straining at the oar a -thing barely tolerable only in some one brief vicissitude. The ship itself, -then, as it sometimes happens, offered the most promising intermediate means -of overtaking the chase. Accordingly, the boats now made for her, and were -soon swayed up to their cranes the two parts of the wrecked boat having been -previously secured by her and then hoisting everything to her side, and -stacking her canvas high up, and sideways outstretching it with stunsails, -like the doublejointed wings of an albatross the Pequod bore down in the -leeward wake of Moby Dick. At the well known, methodic intervals, the -whale's glittering spout was regularly announced from the manned mastheads -and when he would be reported as just gone down, Ahab would take the time, -and then pacing the deck, binnaclewatch in hand, so soon as the last second -of the allotted hour expired, his voice was heard. Whose is the doubloon -now? D'ye see him? and if the reply was, No, sir straightway he -commanded them to lift him to his perch. In this way the day wore on Ahab, -now aloft and motionless anon, unrestingly pacing the planks. As he was thus -walking, uttering no sound, except to hail the men aloft, or to bid them -hoist a sail still higher, or to spread one to a still greater breadth thus -to and fro pacing, beneath his slouched hat, at every turn he passed his own -wrecked boat, which had been dropped upon the quarterdeck, and lay there -reversed broken bow to shattered stern. At last he paused before it and -as in an already overclouded sky fresh troops of clouds will sometimes sail -across, so over the old man's face there now stole some such added gloom as -this. Stubb saw him pause and perhaps intending, not vainly, though, to -evince his own unabated fortitude, and thus keep up a valiant place in his -Captain's mind, he advanced, and eyeing the wreck exclaimed The thistle -the ass refused it pricked his mouth too keenly, sir ha ha What -soulless thing is this that laughs before a wreck? Man, man did I not know -thee brave as fearless fire and as mechanical I could swear thou wert a -poltroon. Groan nor laugh should be heard before a wreck. Aye, sir, said -Starbuck drawing near, 'tis a solemn sight an omen, and an ill one. -Omen? omen? the dictionary If the gods think to speak outright to man, -they will honorably speak outright not shake their heads, and give an old -wives' darkling hint. Begone Ye two are the opposite poles of one thing -Starbuck is Stubb reversed, and Stubb is Starbuck and ye two are all -mankind and Ahab stands alone among the millions of the peopled earth, nor -gods nor men his neighbors Cold, cold I shiver How now? Aloft there -D'ye see him? Sing out for every spout, though he spout ten times a second -The day was nearly done only the hem of his golden robe was rustling. Soon, -it was almost dark, but the lookout men still remained unset. Can't see -the spout now, sir too dark cried a voice from the air. How heading when -last seen? As before, sir, straight to leeward. Good he will travel -slower now 'tis night. Down royals and -topgallant stunsails, Mr. Starbuck. We must not run over him before -morning he's making a passage now, and may heaveto a while. Helm there -keep her full before the wind Aloft come down Mr. Stubb, send a fresh -hand to the foremast head, and see it manned till morning. Then advancing -towards the doubloon in the mainmast Men, this gold is mine, for I earned -it but I shall let it abide here till the White Whale is dead and then, -whosoever of ye first raises him, upon the day he shall be killed, this gold -is that man's and if on that day I shall again raise him, then, ten times -its sum shall be divided among all of ye Away now the deck is thine, sir. -And so saying, he placed himself half way within the scuttle, and slouching -his hat, stood there till dawn, except when at intervals rousing himself to -see how the night wore on. -This motion is peculiar to the sperm whale. It receives its designation -pitchpoling from its being likened to that preliminary upanddown poise -of the whalelance, in the exercise called pitchpoling, previously -described. By this motion the whale must best and most comprehensively view -whatever objects may be encircling him. -At daybreak, the three -mastheads were punctually manned afresh. D'ye see him? cried Ahab, after -allowing a little space for the light to spread. see nothing, sir. Turn -up all hands and make sail he travels faster than I thought for the -topgallant sails aye, they should have been kept on her all night. But no -matter 'tis but resting for the rush. Here be it said, that this -pertinacious pursuit of one particular whale, continued through day into -night, and through night into day, is a thing by no means unprecedented in -the South sea fishery. For such is the wonderful skill, prescience of -experience, and invincible confidence acquired by some great natural geniuses -among the Nantucket commanders that from the simple observation of a whale -when last descried, they will, -under certain given circumstances, pretty accurately foretell both the -direction in which he will continue to swim for a time, while out of sight, -as well as his probable rate of progression during that period. And, in these -cases, somewhat as a pilot, when about losing sight of a coast, whose -general trending he well knows, and which he desires shortly to return to -again, but at some further point like as this pilot stands by his compass, -and takes the precise bearing of the cape at present visible, in order the -more certainly to hit aright the remote, unseen headland, eventually to be -visited so does the fisherman, at his compass, with the whale for after -being chased, and diligently marked, through several hours of daylight, -then, when night obscures the fish, the creature's future wake through the -darkness is almost as established to the sagacious mind of the hunter, as the -pilot's coast is to him. So that to this hunter's wondrous skill, the -proverbial evanescence of a thing writ in water, a wake, is to all desired -purposes well nigh as reliable as the steadfast land. And as the mighty iron -Leviathan of the modern railway is so familiarly known in its every pace, -that, with watches in their hands, men time his rate as doctors that of a -baby's pulse and lightly say of it, the up train or the down train will -reach such or such a spot, at such or such an hour even so, almost, there -are occasions when these Nantucketers time that other Leviathan of the deep, -according to the observed humor of his speed and say to themselves, so many -hours hence this whale will have gone two hundred miles, will have about -reached this or that degree of latitude or longitude. But to render this -acuteness at all successful in the end, the wind and the sea must be the -whaleman's allies for of what present avail to the becalmed or windbound -mariner is the skill that assures him he is exactly ninetythree leagues and a -quarter from his port? Inferable from these statements, are many -collateral subtile matters touching the chase of whales. The ship tore on -leaving such a furrow in the sea as when a cannonball, missent, becomes a -ploughshare and turns up the level field. By salt and hemp cried Stubb, -but this swift motion of the deck creeps up one's legs and tingles at the -heart. This -ship and I are two brave fellows Ha ha Some one take me up, and launch -me, spinewise, on the sea, for by liveoaks my spine's a keel. Ha, ha -we go the gait that leaves no dust behind There she blows she blows she -blows right ahead was now the masthead cry. Aye, aye cried Stubb. -I knew it ye can't escape blow on and split your spout, O whale the mad -fiend himself is after ye blow your trump blister your lungs Ahab will -dam off your blood, as a miller shuts his watergate upon the stream And -Stubb did but speak out for well nigh all that crew. The frenzies of the -chase had by this time worked them bubblingly up, like old wine worked anew. -Whatever pale fears and forebodings some of them might have felt before -these were not only now kept out of sight through the growing awe of Ahab, -but they were broken up, and on all sides routed, as timid prairie hares -that scatter before the bounding bison. The hand of Fate had snatched all -their souls and by the stirring perils of the previous day the rack of the -past night's suspense the fixed, unfearing, blind, reckless way in which -their wild craft went plunging towards its flying mark by all these things, -their hearts were bowled along. The wind that made great bellies of their -sails, and rushed the vessel on by arms invisible as irresistible this -seemed the symbol of that unseen agency which so enslaved them to the race. -They were one man, not thirty. For as the one ship that held them all -though it was put together of all contrasting things oak, and maple, and pine -wood iron, and pitch, and hemp yet all these ran into each other in the one -concrete hull, which shot on its way, both balanced and directed by the long -central keel even so, all the individualities of the crew, this man's -valor, that man's fear guilt and guiltiness, all varieties were welded -into oneness, and were all directed to that fatal goal which Ahab their one -lord and keel did point to. The rigging lived. The mastheads, like the tops -of tall palms, were outspreadingly tufted with arms and legs. Clinging to a -spar with one hand, some reached forth the other with impatient wavings -others, shading their eyes from the vivid sunlight, sat -far out on the rocking yards all the spars in full bearing of mortals, -ready and ripe for their fate. Ah how they still strove through that -infinite blueness to seek out the thing that might destroy them Why sing ye -not out for him, if ye see him? cried Ahab, when, after the lapse of some -minutes since the first cry, no more had been heard. Sway me up, men ye -have been deceived not moby dick casts one odd jet that way, and then -disappears. It was even so in their headlong eagerness, the men had -mistaken some other thing for the whalespout, as the event itself soon -proved for hardly had Ahab reached his perch hardly was the rope belayed -to its pin on deck, when he struck the keynote to an orchestra, that made -the air vibrate as with the combined discharges of rifles. The triumphant -halloo of thirty buckskin lungs was heard, as much nearer to the ship than -the place of the imaginary jet, less than a mile ahead Moby Dick bodily -burst into view For not by any calm and indolent spoutings not by the -peaceable gush of that mystic fountain in his head, did the White Whale now -reveal his vicinity but by the far more wondrous phenomenon of breaching. -Rising with his utmost velocity from the furthest depths, the Sperm Whale -thus booms his entire bulk into the pure element of air, and piling up a -mountain of dazzling foam, shows his place to the distance of seven miles and -more. In those moments, the torn, enraged waves he shakes off, seem his -mane in some cases, this breaching is his act of defiance. There she -breaches there she breaches was the cry, as in his immeasureable -bravadoes the White Whale tossed himself salmonlike to Heaven. So suddenly -seen in the blue plain of the sea, and relieved against the still bluer -margin of the sky, the spray that he raised, for the moment, intolerably -glittered and glared like a glacier and stood there gradually fading and -fading away from its first sparkling intensity, to the dim mistiness of an -advancing shower in a vale. Aye, breach your last to the sun, Moby Dick -cried Ahab, thy hour and thy harpoon are at hand Down down all of ye, -but one man at the fore. The boats stand by -Unmindful of the tedious ropeladders of the shrouds, the men, like shooting -stars, slid to the deck, by the isolated backstays and halyards while -Ahab, less dartingly, but still rapidly was dropped from his perch. Lower -away, he cried, so soon as he had reached his boat a spare one, rigged the -afternoon previous. Mr. Starbuck, the ship is thine keep away from the -boats, but keep near them. Lower, all As if to strike a quick terror into -them, by this time being the first assailant himself, Moby Dick had turned, -and was now coming for the three crews. Ahab's boat was central and -cheering his men, he told them he would take the whale headandhead, that -is, pull straight up to his forehead, a not uncommon thing for when within -a certain limit, such a course excludes the coming onset from the whale's -sidelong vision. But ere that close limit was gained, and while yet all -three boats were plain as the ship's three masts to his eye the White Whale -churning himself into furious speed, almost in an instant as it were, -rushing among the boats with open jaws, and a lashing tail, offered -appalling battle on every side and heedless of the irons darted at him from -every boat, seemed only intent on annihilating each separate plank of which -those boats were made. But skilfully manoeuvred, incessantly wheeling like -trained chargers in the field the boats for a while eluded him though, at -times, but by a plank's breadth while all the time, Ahab's unearthly slogan -tore every other cry but his to shreds. But at last in his untraceable -evolutions, the White Whale so crossed and recrossed, and in a thousand ways -entangled the slack of the three lines now fast to him, that they -foreshortened, and, of themselves, warped the devoted boats towards the -planted irons in him though now for a moment the whale drew aside a little, -as if to rally for a more tremendous charge. Seizing that opportunity, Ahab -first paid out more line and then was rapidly hauling and jerking in upon it -again hoping that way to disencumber it of some snarls when lo a sight -more savage than the embattled teeth of sharks Caught and twisted -corkscrewed in the mazes of the line, loose harpoons and lances, with all -their bristling barbs and -points, came flashing and dripping up to the chocks in the bows of Ahab's -boat. Only one thing could be done. Seizing the boatknife, he critically -reached within through and then, without the rays of steel dragged in -the line beyond, passed it, inboard, to the bowsman, and then, twice -sundering the rope near the chocks dropped the intercepted fagot of steel -into the sea and was all fast again. That instant, the White Whale made -a sudden rush among the remaining tangles of the other lines by so doing, -irresistibly dragged the more involved boats of Stubb and Flask towards his -flukes dashed them together like two rolling husks on a surfbeaten beach, -and then, diving down into the sea, disappeared in a boiling maelstrom, in -which, for a space, the odorous cedar chips of the wrecks danced round and -round, like the grated nutmeg in a swiftly stirred bowl of punch. While the -two crews were yet circling in the waters, reaching out after the revolving -linetubs, oars, and other floating furniture, while aslope little Flask -bobbed up and down like an empty vial, twitching his legs upwards to escape -the dreaded jaws of sharks and Stubb was lustily singing out for some one -to ladle him up and while the old man's line now parting admitted of his -pulling into the creamy pool to rescue whom he could in that wild -simultaneousness of a thousand concreted perils, Ahab's yet unstricken boat -seemed drawn up towards Heaven by invisible wires, as, arrowlike, shooting -perpendicularly from the sea, the White Whale dashed his broad forehead -against its bottom, and sent it, turning over and over, into the air till -it fell again gunwale downwards and Ahab and his men struggled out from -under it, like seals from a seaside cave. The first uprising momentum of the -whale modifying its direction as he struck the surface involuntarily -launched him along it, to a little distance from the centre of the -destruction he had made and with his back to it, he now lay for a moment -slowly feeling with his flukes from side to side and whenever a stray oar, -bit of plank, the least chip or crumb of the boats touched his skin, his tail -swiftly drew back, and came sideways smiting the sea. But soon, as if -satisfied that his work for that time was done, he pushed his pleated -forehead through the -ocean, and trailing after him the intertangled lines, continued his leeward -way at a traveller's methodic pace. As before, the attentive ship having -descried the whole fight, again came bearing down to the rescue, and dropping -a boat, picked up the floating mariners, tubs, oars and whatever else could -be caught at, and safely landed them on her decks. Some sprained shoulders, -wrists, and ankles livid contusions wrenched harpoons and lances -inextricable intricacies of rope shattered oars and planks all these were -there but no fatal or even serious ill seemed to have befallen any one. As -with Fedallah the day before, so Ahab was now found grimly clinging to his -boat's broken half, which afforded a comparatively easy float nor did it so -exhaust him as the previous day's mishap. But when he was helped to the deck, -all eyes were fastened upon him as instead of standing by himself he still -halfhung upon the shoulder of Starbuck, who had thus far been the foremost -to assist him. His ivory leg had been snapped off, leaving but one short -sharp splinter. Aye, aye, Starbuck, 'tis sweet to lean sometimes, be the -leaner who he will and would old Ahab had leaned oftener than he has. The -ferrule has not stood, sir, said the carpenter, now coming up I put good -work into that leg. But no bones broken, sir, I hope, said Stubb with true -concern. Aye and all splintered to pieces, Stubb d'ye see it. But -even with a broken bone, old Ahab is untouched and I account no living bone -of mine one jot more me, than this dead one that's lost. Nor white whale, -nor man, nor fiend, can so much as graze old Ahab in his own proper and -inaccessible being. Can any lead touch yonder floor, any mast scrape yonder -roof? Aloft there which way? Dead to leeward, sir. Up helm, then -pile on the sail again, ship keepers down the rest of the spare boats and -rig them Mr. Starbuck away, and muster the boat's crews. Let me first help -thee towards the bulwarks, sir. Oh, oh, oh how this splinter gores me now -Accursed fate -that the unconquerable captain in the soul should have such a craven mate -Sir? My body, man, not thee. Give me something for a cane there, that -shivered lance will do. Muster the men. Surely I have not seen him yet. By -heaven it cannot be missing? quick call them all. The old man's hinted -thought was true. Upon mustering the company, the Parsee was not there. -The Parsee cried Stubb he must have been caught in The black vomit -wrench thee run all of ye above, alow, cabin, forecastle find him not gone -not gone But quickly they returned to him with the tidings that the Parsee -was nowhere to be found. Aye, sir, said Stubb caught among the tangles of -your line I thought I saw him dragging under. My line my line? Gone? -gone? What means that little word? What deathknell rings in it, that old -Ahab shakes as if he were the belfry. The harpoon, too toss over the litter -there, d'ye see it? the forged iron, men, the white whale's no, no, no, -blistered fool this hand did dart it 'tis in the fish Aloft there -keep him nailed quick all hands to the rigging of the boats collect the -oars harpooneers the irons, the irons hoist the royals higher a pull -on all the sheets helm there steady, steady for your life I'll ten -times girdle the unmeasured globe yea and dive straight through it, but -I'll slay him yet Great God but for one single instant show thyself, -cried Starbuck never, never wilt thou capture him, old man In Jesus' name -no more of this, that's worse than devil's madness. Two days chased twice -stove to splinters thy very leg once more snatched from under thee thy -evil shadow gone all good angels mobbing thee with warnings what more -wouldst thou have? Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish till he swamps -the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we -be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh, oh, Impiety and blasphemy to -hunt him more Starbuck, of late I've felt strangely moved to thee ever -since that hour we both saw thou know'st what, in one another's -eyes. But in this matter of the whale, be the front of thy face to me as the -palm of this hand a lipless, unfeatured blank. Ahab is for ever Ahab, man. -This whole act's immutably decreed. 'Twas rehearsed by thee and me a billion -years before this ocean rolled. Fool I am the Fates' lieutenant I act -under orders. Look thou, underling that thou obeyest mine. Stand round -me, men. Ye see an old man cut down to the stump leaning on a shivered -lance propped up on a lonely foot. 'Tis Ahab his body's part but Ahab's -soul's a centipede, that moves upon a hundred legs. I feel strained, half -stranded, as ropes that tow dismasted frigates in a gale and I may look so. -But ere I break, ye'll hear me crack and till ye hear that, know that -Ahab's hawser tows his purpose yet. Believe ye, men, in the things called -omens? Then laugh aloud, and cry encore For ere they drown, drowning things -will twice rise to the surface then rise again, to sink for evermore. So -with Moby Dick two days he's floated tomorrow will be the third. Aye, men, -he'll rise once more, but only to spout his last D'ye feel brave men, -brave? As fearless fire, cried Stubb. And as mechanical, muttered Ahab. -Then as the men went forward, he muttered on The things called omens -And yesterday I talked the same to Starbuck there, concerning my broken -boat. Oh how valiantly I seek to drive out of others' hearts what's -clinched so fast in mine The Parsee the Parsee gone, gone? and he -was to go before but still was to be seen again ere I could perish How's -that? There's a riddle now might baffle all the lawyers backed by the ghosts -of the whole line of judges like a hawk's beak it pecks my brain. I'll, -I'll solve it, though When dusk descended, the whale was still in sight -to leeward. So once more the sail was shortened, and everything passed -nearly as on the previous night only, the sound of hammers, and the hum of -the grindstone was heard till nearly daylight, as the men toiled by lanterns -in the complete and careful rigging of the spare boats and sharpening their -fresh weapons for the morrow. Meantime, of the broken keel of Ahab's wrecked -craft the carpenter made him another leg while still as on the -night before, slouched Ahab stood fixed within his scuttle his hid, -heliotrope glance anticipatingly gone backward on its dial sat due eastward -for the earliest sun. -THE CHASETHIRD DAY The morning of the third day dawned fair and fresh, and -once more the solitary nightman at the foremasthead was relieved by crowds -of the daylight lookouts, who dotted every mast and almost every spar. -D'ye see him? cried Ahab but the whale was not yet in sight. In his -infallible wake, though but follow that wake, that's all. Helm there -steady, as thou goest, and hast been going. What a lovely day again were it -a newmade world, and made for a summerhouse to the angels, and this -morning the first of its throwing open to them, a fairer day could not dawn -upon that world. Here's food for thought, had Ahab time to think but Ahab -never thinks he only feels, feels, feels that's tingling enough for -mortal man to think's audacity. God only has that right and privilege. -Thinking is, or ought to be, a coolness and a calmness and our poor hearts -throb, and our poor brains beat too much for that. And yet, I've sometimes -thought my brain was very calm frozen calm, this old skull cracks so, like -a glass in which the contents turned to ice, and shiver it. And still this -hair is growing now this moment growing, and heat must breed it but no, -it's like that sort of common grass that will grow anywhere, between the -earthy clefts of Greenland ice or in Vesuvius lava. How the wild winds blow -it they whip it about me as the torn shreds of split sails lash the tossed -ship they cling to. A vile wind that has no doubt blown ere this through -prison corridors and cells, and wards of hospitals, and ventilated them, -and now comes blowing hither as innocent as -fleeces. Out upon it it's tainted. Were I the wind, I'd blow no more on -such a wicked, miserable world. I'd crawl somewhere to a cave, and slink -there. And yet, 'tis a noble and heroic thing, the wind who ever -conquered it? In every fight it has the last and bitterest blow. Run tilting -at it, and you but run through it. Ha a coward wind that strikes stark -naked men, but will not stand to receive a single blow. Even Ahab is a braver -thing a nobler thing that that. Would now the wind but had a body but -all the things that most exasperate and outrage mortal man, all these things -are bodiless, but only bodiless as objects, not as agents. There's a most -special, a most cunning, oh, a most malicious difference And yet, I say -again, and swear it now, that there's something all glorious and gracious in -the wind. These warm Trade Winds, at least, that in the clear heavens blow -straight on, in strong and steadfast, vigorous mildness and veer not from -their mark, however the baser currents of the sea may turn and tack, and -mightiest Mississippies of the land swift and swerve about, uncertain where -to go at last. And by the eternal Poles these same Trades that so directly -blow my good ship on these Trades, or something like them something so -unchangeable, and full as strong, blow my keeled soul along To it Aloft -there What d'ye see? Nothing, sir. Nothing and noon at hand The -doubloon goes abegging See the sun Aye, aye, it must be so. I've -oversailed him. How, got the start? Aye, he's chasing me now not I, him -that's bad I might have known it, too. Fool the lines the harpoons -he's towing. Aye, aye, I have run him by last night. About about Come -down, all of ye, but the regular look outs Man the braces Steering as -she had done, the wind had been somewhat on the Pequod's quarter, so that -now being pointed in the reverse direction, the braced ship sailed hard upon -the breeze as she rechurned the cream in her own white wake. Against the -wind he now steers for the open jaw, murmured Starbuck to himself, as he -coiled the newhauled mainbrace upon the rail. God keep us, but already my -bones feel -damp within me, and from the inside wet my flesh. I misdoubt me that I -disobey my God in obeying him Stand by to sway me up cried Ahab, -advancing to the hempen basket. We should meet him soon. Aye, aye, sir, -and straightway Starbuck did Ahab's bidding, and once more Ahab swung on high. -a whole hour now passed goldbeaten out to ages. time itself now held long -breaths with keen suspense. But at last, some three points off the weather -bow, Ahab descried the spout again, and instantly from the three mastheads -three shrieks went up as if the tongues of fire had voiced it. Forehead to -forehead I meet thee, this third time, Moby Dick On deck there brace -sharper up crowd her into the wind's eye. He's too far off to lower yet, -Mr. Starbuck. The sails shake Stand over that helmsman with a topmaul -So, so he travels fast, and I must down. But let me have one more good -round look aloft here at the sea there's time for that. An old, old sight, -and yet somehow so young aye, and not changed a wink since I first saw it, -a boy, from the sandhills of Nantucket The same the same the same to -Noah as to me. There's a soft shower to leeward. Such lovely leewardings -They must lead somewhere to something else than common land, more palmy than -the palms. Leeward the white whale goes that way look to windward, then -the better if the bitterer quarter. But good bye, good bye, old masthead -What's this? green? aye, tiny mosses in these warped cracks. No such green -weather stains on Ahab's head There's the difference now between man's old -age and matter's. But aye, old mast, we both grow old together sound in -our hulls, though, are we not, my ship? Aye, minus a leg, that's all. By -heaven this dead wood has the better of my live flesh every way. I can't -compare with it and I've known some ships made of dead trees outlast the -lives of men made of the most vital stuff of vital fathers. What's that he -said? he should still go before me, my pilot and yet to be seen again? But -where? Will I have eyes at the bottom of the sea, supposing I descend those -endless stairs? and all night I've been sailing from him, wherever he did -sink to. Aye, -aye, like many more thou told'st direful truth as touching thyself, O Parsee -but, Ahab, there thy shot fell short. Good by, masthead keep a good eye -upon the whale, the while I'm gone. We'll talk tomorrow, nay, tonight, -when the white whale lies down there, tied by head and tail. He gave the -word and still gazing round him, was steadily lowered through the cloven -blue air to the deck. In due time the boats were lowered, but as standing in -his shallop's stern, Ahab just hovered upon the point of the descent, he -waved to the mate, who held one of the tackleropes on deck and bade him -pause. Starbuck Sir? For the third time my soul's ship starts upon -this voyage, Starbuck. Aye, sir, thou wilt have it so. Some ships sail -from their ports, and ever afterwards are missing, Starbuck Truth, sir -saddest truth. Some men die at ebb tide some at low water some at the -full of the flood and I feel now like a billow that's all one crested comb, -Starbuck. I am old shake hands with me, man. Their hands met their eyes -fastened Starbuck's tears the glue. Oh, my captain, my captain noble -heart go not go not see, it's a brave man that weeps how great the -agony of the persuasion then Lower away cried Ahab, tossing the mate's -arm from him. Stand by the crew In an instant the boat was pulling round -close under the stern. The sharks the sharks cried a voice from the low -cabinwindow there O master, my master, come back But Ahab heard -nothing for his own voice was highlifted then and the boat leaped on. -Yet the voice spake true for scarce had he pushed from the ship, when -numbers of sharks, seemingly rising from out the dark waters beneath the -hull, maliciously snapped at the blades of the oars, every time they dipped -in the water and in this -way accompanied the boat with their bites. It is a thing not uncommonly -happening to the whaleboats in those swarming seas the sharks at times -apparently following them in the same prescient way that vultures hover over -the banners of marching regiments in the east. But these were the first -sharks that had been observed by the Pequod since the White Whale had been -first descried and whether it was that Ahab's crew were all such -tigeryellow barbarians, and therefore their flesh more musky to the senses -of the sharks a matter sometimes well known to affect them, however it was, -they seemed to follow that one boat without molesting the others. Heart of -wrought steel murmured Starbuck gazing over the side, and following with -his eyes the receding boat canst thou yet ring boldly to that sight? -lowering thy keel among ravening sharks, and followed by them, openmouthed -to the chase and this the critical third day? For when three days flow -together in one continuous intense pursuit be sure the first is the morning, -the second the noon, and the third the evening and the end of that thing be -that end what it may. Oh my God what is this that shoots through me, and -leaves me so deadly calm, yet expectant, fixed at the top of a shudder -Future things swim before me, as in empty outlines and skeletons all the -past is somehow grown dim. Mary, girl thou fadest in pale glories behind -me boy I seem to see but thy eyes grown wondrous blue. Strangest problems -of life seem clearing but clouds sweep between Is my journey's end coming? -My legs feel faint like his who has footed it all day. Feel thy heart, -beats it yet? Stir thyself, Starbuck stave it off move, move speak -aloud Masthead there See ye my boy's hand on the hill? Crazed aloft -there keep thy keenest eye upon the boats mark well the whale Ho -again drive off that hawk see he pecks he tears the vane pointing to -the red flag flying at the maintruck Ha he soars away with it Where's -the old man now? sees't thou that sight, oh Ahab shudder, shudder The -boats had not gone very far, when by a signal from the mastheads a downward -pointed arm, Ahab knew that the whale had sounded but intending to be near -him at the next rising, he -held on his way a little sideways from the vessel the becharmed crew -maintaining the profoundest silence, as the headbeat waves hammered and -hammered against the opposing bow. Drive, drive in your nails, oh ye waves -to their uttermost heads, drive them in ye but strike a thing without a -lid and no coffin and no hearse can be mine and hemp only can kill me -Ha ha Suddenly the waters around them slowly swelled in broad circles -then quickly upheaved, as if sideways sliding from a submerged berg of ice, -swiftly rising to the surface. A low rumbling sound was heard a -subterraneous hum and then all held their breaths as bedraggled with -trailing ropes, and harpoons, and lances, a vast form shot lengthwise, but -obliquely from the sea. Shrouded in a thin drooping veil of mist, it -hovered for a moment in the rainbowed air and then fell swamping back into -the deep. Crushed thirty feet upwards, the waters flashed for an instant -like heaps of fountains, then brokenly sank in a shower of flakes, leaving -the circling surface creamed like new milk round the marble trunk of the -whale. Give way cried Ahab to the oarsmen, and the boats darted forward -to the attack but maddened by yesterday's fresh irons that corroded in him, -Moby Dick seemed combinedly possessed by all the angels that fell from heaven. -The wide tiers of welded tendons overspreading his broad white forehead, -beneath the transparent skin, looked knitted together as head on, he came -churning his tail among the boats and once more flailed them apart -spilling out the irons and lances from the two mates' boats, and dashing in -one side of the upper part of their bows, but leaving Ahab's almost without a -scar. While Daggoo and Queequeg were stopping the strained planks and as -the whale swimming out from them, turned, and showed one entire flank as he -shot by them again at that moment a quick cry went up. Lashed round and -round to the fish's back pinioned in the turns upon turns in which, during -the past night, the whale had reeled the involutions of the lines around him, -the half torn body of the Parsee was seen his sable raiment frayed to -shreds his distended eyes turned full upon old Ahab. -The harpoon dropped from his hand. Befooled, befooled drawing in a long -lean breath Aye, Parsee I see thee again. Aye, and thou goest before -and this, this then is the hearse that thou didst promise. But I hold thee -to the last letter of thy word. Where is the second hearse? Away, mates, to -the ship those boats are useless now repair them if ye can in time, and -return to me if not, Ahab is enough to die Down, men the first thing -that but offers to jump from this boat I stand in, that thing I harpoon. Ye -are not other men, but my arms and my legs and so obey me. Where's the -whale? gone down again? But he looked too nigh the boat for as if bent -upon escaping with the corpse he bore, and as if the particular place of the -last encounter had been but a stage in his leeward voyage, Moby Dick was now -again steadily swimming forward and had almost passed the ship, which thus -far had been sailing in the contrary direction to him, though for the present -her headway had been stopped. He seemed swimming with his utmost velocity, -and now only intent upon pursuing his own straight path in the sea. Oh -Ahab, cried Starbuck, not too late is it, even now, the third day, to -desist. See Moby Dick seeks thee not. It is thou, thou, that madly -seekest him Setting sail to the rising wind, the lonely boat was swiftly -impelled to leeward, by both oars and canvas. And at last when Ahab was -sliding by the vessel, so near as plainly to distinguish Starbuck's face as -he leaned over the rail, he hailed him to turn the vessel about, and follow -him, not too swiftly, at a judicious interval. Glancing upwards, he saw -Tashtego, Queequeg, and Daggoo, eagerly mounting to the three mastheads -while the oarsmen were rocking in the two staved boats which had but just been -hoisted to the side, and were busily at work in repairing them. One after -the other, through the portholes, as he sped, he also caught flying glimpses -of Stubb and Flask, busying themselves on deck among bundles of new irons and -lances. As he saw all this as he heard the hammers in the broken boats -far other hammers seemed driving a nail into his heart. But he rallied. And -now marking that the vane or -flag was gone from the mainmasthead, he shouted to Tashtego, who had just -gained that perch, to descend again for another flag, and a hammer and -nails, and so nail it to the mast. Whether fagged by the three days' running -chase, and the resistance to his swimming in the knotted hamper he bore or -whether it was some latent deceitfulness and malice in him whichever was -true, the White Whale's way now began to abate, as it seemed, from the boat -so rapidly nearing him once more though indeed the whale's last start had not -been so long a one as before. And still as Ahab glided over the waves the -unpitying sharks accompanied him and so pertinaciously stuck to the boat -and so continually bit at the plying oars, that the blades became jagged and -crunched, and left small splinters in the sea, at almost every dip. Heed -them not those teeth but give new rowlocks to your oars. Pull on 'tis the -better rest, the shark's jaw than the yielding water. But at every bite, -sir, the thin blades grow smaller and smaller They will last long enough -pull on But who can tell he muttered whether these sharks swim to feast -on the whale or on ahab? But pull on Aye, all alive, now we near him. The -helm take the helm let me pass, and so saying, two of the oarsmen -helped him forward to the bows of the still flying boat. At length as the -craft was cast to one side, and ran ranging along with the White Whale's -flank, he seemed strangely oblivious of its advance as the whale sometimes -will and Ahab was fairly within the smoky mountain mist, which, thrown off -from the whale's spout, curled round his great, Monadnock hump he was even -thus close to him when, with body arched back, and both arms lengthwise -highlifted to the poise, he darted his fierce iron, and his far fiercer -curse into the hated whale. As both steel and curse sank to the socket, as -if sucked into a morass, Moby Dick sideways writhed spasmodically rolled -his nigh flank against the bow, and, without staving a hole in it, so -suddenly canted the boat over, that had it not been for the elevated part of -the gunwale to which he then clung, Ahab would once more have been tossed -into the sea. -As it was, three of the oarsmen who foreknew not the precise instant of the -dart, and were therefore unprepared for its effects these were flung out -but so fell, that, in an instant two of them clutched the gunwale again, and -rising to its level on a combing wave, hurled themselves bodily inboard -again the third man helplessly dropping astern, but still afloat and -swimming. Almost simultaneously, with a mighty volition of ungraduated, -instantaneous swiftness, the White Whale darted through the weltering sea. -But when Ahab cried out to the steersman to take new turns with the line, and -hold it so and commanded the crew to turn round on their seats, and tow the -boat up to the mark the moment the treacherous line felt that double strain -and tug, it snapped in the empty air What breaks in me? Some sinew cracks -'tis whole again oars oars Burst in upon him Hearing the tremendous -rush of the seacrashing boat, the whale wheeled round to present his blank -forehead at bay but in that evolution, catching sight of the nearing black -hull of the ship seemingly seeing in it the source of all his persecutions -bethinking it it may be a larger and nobler foe of a sudden, he bore down -upon its advancing prow, smiting his jaws amid fiery showers of foam. Ahab -staggered his hand smote his forehead. I grow blind hands stretch out -before me that I may yet grope my way. Is't night? The whale The ship -cried the cringing oarsmen. Oars oars Slope downwards to thy depths, O -sea, that ere it be for ever too late, Ahab may slide this last, last time -upon his mark I see the ship the ship Dash on, my men Will ye not -save my ship? But as the oarsmen violently forced their boat through the -sledgehammering seas, the before whalesmitten bowends of two planks burst -through, and in an instant almost, the temporarily disabled boat lay nearly -level with the waves its halfwading, splashing crew, trying hard to stop -the gap and bale out the pouring water. Meantime, for that one beholding -instant, Tashtego's masthead hammer remained suspended in his hand and the -red -flag, halfwrapping him as with a plaid, then streamed itself straight out -from him, as his own forwardflowing heart while Starbuck and Stubb, -standing upon the bowsprit beneath, caught sight of the downcoming monster -just as soon as he. The whale, the whale Up helm, up helm Oh, all ye -sweet powers of air, now hug me close Let not Starbuck die, if die he -must, in a woman's fainting fit. Up helm, I say ye fools, the jaw the -jaw Is this the end of all my bursting prayers? all my lifelong fidelities? -Oh, Ahab, Ahab, lo, thy work. Steady helmsman, steady. Nay, nay Up -helm again He turns to meet us Oh, his unappeasable brow drives on towards -one, whose duty tells him he cannot depart. My God, stand by me now -Stand not by me, but stand under me, whoever you are that will now help -Stubb for Stubb, too, sticks here. I grin at thee, thou grinning whale -Who ever helped Stubb, or kept Stubb awake, but Stubb's own unwinking eye? -And now poor Stubb goes to bed upon a mattrass that is all too soft would it -were stuffed with brushwood I grin at thee, thou grinning whale Look ye, -sun, moon, and stars I call ye assassins of as good a fellow as ever spouted -up his ghost. For all that, I would yet ring glasses with ye, would ye but -hand the cup Oh, oh oh, oh thou grinning whale, but there'll be plenty -of gulping soon Why fly ye not, O Ahab For me, off shoes and jacket to -it let Stubb die in his drawers A most mouldy and over salted death, -though cherries cherries cherries Oh, Flask, for one red cherry ere we -die Cherries? I only wish that we were where they grow. Oh, Stubb, I -hope my poor mother's drawn my partpay ere this if not, few coppers will now -come to her, for the voyage is up. From the ship's bows, nearly all the -seamen now hung inactive hammers, bits of plank, lances, and harpoons, -mechanically retained in their hands, just as they had darted from their -various employments all their enchanted eyes intent upon the whale, which -from side to side strangely vibrating his predestinating head, sent a broad -band of overspreading semicircular foam before him as he rushed. Retribution, -swift vengeance, eternal malice were in his whole aspect, and spite of all -that mortal man could do, the solid white buttress of his forehead -smote the ship's starboard bow, till men and timbers reeled. Some fell flat -upon their faces. Like dislodged trucks, the heads of the harpooneers aloft -shook on their bulllike necks. Through the breach, they heard the waters -pour, as mountain torrents down a flume. The ship The hearse the second -hearse cried ahab from the boat its wood could only be American -Diving beneath the settling ship, the whale ran quivering along its keel -but turning under water, swiftly shot to the surface again, far off the -other bow, but within a few yards of Ahab's boat, where, for a time, he lay -quiescent. I turn my body from the sun. What ho, Tashtego Let me hear thy -hammer. Oh ye three unsurrendered spires of mine thou uncracked keel and -only godbullied hull thou firm deck, and haughty helm, and Polepointed -prow, deathglorious ship must ye then perish, and without me? Am I cut -off from the last fond pride of meanest shipwrecked captains? Oh, lonely -death on lonely life Oh, now I feel my topmost greatness lies in my topmost -grief. Ho, ho from all your furthest bounds, pour ye now in, ye bold -billows of my whole foregone life, and top this one piled comber of my death -Towards thee I roll, thou alldestroying but unconquering whale to the last -I grapple with thee from hell's heart I stab at thee for hate's sake I -spit my last breath at thee. Sink all coffins and all hearses to one common -pool and since neither can be mine, let me then tow to pieces, while still -chasing thee, though tied to thee, thou damned whale Thus, I give up the -spear The harpoon was darted the stricken whale flew forward with -igniting velocity the line ran through the groove ran foul. Ahab stooped to -clear it he did clear it but the flying turn caught him round the neck, -and voicelessly as Turkish mutes bowstring their victim, he was shot out of -the boat, ere the crew knew he was gone. Next instant, the heavy eyesplice -in the rope's final end flew out of the starkempty tub, knocked down an -oarsman, and smiting the sea, disappeared in its depths. For an instant, -the tranced boat's crew stood still then turned. The ship? Great God, -where is the ship? Soon they through dim, bewildering mediums saw her -sidelong fading phantom, -as in the gaseous Fata Morgana only the uppermost masts out of water -while fixed by infatuation, or fidelity, or fate, to their once lofty perches, -the pagan harpooneers still maintained their sinking lookouts on the sea. -And now, concentric circles seized the lone boat itself, and all its crew, -and each floating oar, and every lancepole, and spinning, animate and -inanimate, all round and round in one vortex, carried the smallest chip of -the Pequod out of sight. But as the last whelmings intermixingly poured -themselves over the sunken head of the Indian at the mainmast, leaving a few -inches of the erect spar yet visible, together with long streaming yards of -the flag, which calmly undulated, with ironical coincidings, over the -destroying billows they almost touched at that instant, a red arm and a -hammer hovered backwardly uplifted in the open air, in the act of nailing the -flag faster and yet faster to the subsiding spar. A skyhawk that tauntingly -had followed the maintruck downwards from its natural home among the stars, -pecking at the flag, and incommoding Tashtego there this bird now chanced -to intercept its broad fluttering wing between the hammer and the wood and -simultaneously feeling that etherial thrill, the submerged savage beneath, -in his deathgasp, kept his hammer frozen there and so the bird of heaven, -with archangelic shrieks, and his imperial beak thrust upwards, and his -whole captive form folded in the flag of Ahab, went down with his ship, -which, like Satan, would not sink to hell till she had dragged a living part -of heaven along with her, and helmeted herself with it. Now small fowls flew -screaming over the yet yawning gulf a sullen white surf beat against its -steep sides then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as -it rolled five thousand years ago. -House / edition. It was prepared by Professor Eugene F. Irey AT THE UNIVERSIT -Y / OF COLORADO, BOULDER, COLORADO , U.S.A. / ANY SUBSEQUENT COP -IES OF THIS DATA MUST INCLUDE THIS NOTICE / AND ANY PUBLICATIONS RESULTING FRO -M ANALYSIS OF THIS DATA MUST INCLUDE / REFERENCE TO PROFESSOR IREY'S WORK. - AND I ONLY AM ESCAPED ALONE TO TELL THEE. JOB. THE DRAMA'S DONE. -WHY THEN HERE DOES ANY ONE STEP FORTH? BECAUSE ONE DID SURVIVE THE WRECK. -IT SO CHANCED, THAT AFTER THE PARSEE'S DISAPPEARANCE, I WAS HE WHOM THE FA -TES ORDAINED TO TAKE THE PLACE OF AHAB'S BOWSMAN, WHEN THAT BOWSMAN ASSUMED TH -E VACANT POST THE SAME, WHO, WHEN ON THE LAST DAY THE THREE MEN WERE TOSSED F -ROM OUT THE ROCKING BOAT, WAS DROPPED ASTERN. SO, FLOATING ON THE MARGIN OF -THE ENSUING SCENE, AND IN FULL SIGHT OF IT, WHEN THE HALFSPENT SUCTION OF T -HE SUNK SHIP REACHED ME, I WAS THEN, BUT SLOWLY, DRAWN TOWARDS THE CLOSING VO -RTEX. WHEN I REACHED IT, IT HAD SUBSIDED TO A CREAMY POOL. ROUND AND ROUND -, THEN, AND EVER CONTRACTING TOWARDS THE BUTTONLIKE BLACK BUBBLE AT THE AXIS -OF THAT SLOWLY WHEELING CIRCLE, LIKE ANOTHER IXION I DID REVOLVE. TILL, G -AINING THAT VITAL CENTRE, THE BLACK BUBBLE UPWARD BURST AND NOW, LIBERATED -BY REASON OF ITS CUNNING SPRING, AND OWING TO ITS GREAT BUOYANCY, RISING WITH -GREAT FORCE, THE COFFIN LIFEBUOY SHOT LENGTHWISE FROM THE SEA, FELL OVER, -AND FLOATED BY MY SIDE. BUOYED UP BY THAT COFFIN, FOR ALMOST ONE WHOLE DAY -AND NIGHT, I FLOATED ON A SOFT AND DIRGELIKE MAIN. THE UNHARMING SHARKS, -THEY GLIDED BY AS IF WITH PADLOCKS ON THEIR MOUTHS THE SAVAGE SEAHAWKS SAILE -D WITH SHEATHED BEAKS. ON THE SECOND DAY, A SAIL DREW NEAR, NEARER, AND PIC -KED ME UP AT LAST. IT WAS THE DEVIOUSCRUISING RACHEL, THAT IN HER RETRACIN -Nothing more happened on the passage worthy -the mentioning so, after a fine run, we safely arrived in Nantucket. -Nantucket Take out your map and look at it. See what a real corner of the -world it occupies how it stands there, away off shore, more lonely than the -Eddystone lighthouse. Look at it a mere hillock, and elbow of sand all -beach, without a background. There is more sand there than you would use in -twenty years as a substitute for blotting paper. Some gamesome wights will -tell you that they have to plant weeds there, they don't -grow naturally that they import Canada thistles that they have to send -beyond seas for a spile to stop a leak in an oil cask that pieces of wood in -Nantucket are carried about like bits of the true cross in Rome that people -there plant toadstools before their houses, to get under the shade in summer -time that one blade of grass makes an oasis, three blades in a day's walk a -prairie that they wear quicksand shoes, something like Laplander snowshoes -that they are so shut up, belted about, every way inclosed, surrounded, and -made an utter island of by the ocean, that to their very chairs and tables -small clams will sometimes be found adhering, as to the backs of sea -turtles. But these extravaganzas only show that Nantucket is no Illinois. -Look now at the wondrous traditional story of how this island was settled by -the redmen. Thus goes the legend. In olden times an eagle swooped down upon -the New England coast, and carried off an infant Indian in his talons. With -loud lament the parents saw their child borne out of sight over the wide -waters. They resolved to follow in the same direction. Setting out in their -canoes, after a perilous passage they discovered the island, and there they -found an empty ivory casket, the poor little Indian's skeleton. What wonder, -then, that these Nantucketers, born on a beach, should take to the sea for a -livelihood They first caught crabs and quohogs in the sand grown bolder, -they waded out with nets for mackerel more experienced, they pushed off in -boats and captured cod and at last, launching a navy of great ships on the -sea, explored this watery world put an incessant belt of circumnavigations -round it peeped in at Behring's Straits and in all seasons and all oceans -declared everlasting war with the mightiest animated mass that has survived -the flood most monstrous and most mountainous That Himmalehan, saltsea -Mastodon, clothed with such portentousness of unconscious power, that his -very panics are more to be dreaded than his most fearless and malicious -assaults And thus have these naked Nantucketers, these sea hermits, issuing -from their anthill in the sea, overrun and conquered the watery world like -so many Alexanders parcelling out among -them the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans, as the three pirate powers did -Poland. Let America add Mexico to Texas, and pile Cuba upon Canada let the -English overswarm all India, and hang out their blazing banner from the sun -two thirds of this terraqueous globe are the Nantucketer's. For the sea is -his he owns it, as Emperors own empires other seamen having but a right -of way through it. Merchant ships are but extension bridges armed ones but -floating forts even pirates and privateers, though following the sea as -highwaymen the road, they but plunder other ships, other fragments of the -land like themselves, without seeking to draw their living from the bottomless -deep itself. The Nantucketer, he alone resides and riots on the sea he -alone, in Bible language, goes down to it in ships to and fro ploughing it -as his own special plantation. There is his home there lies his business, -which a noah's flood would not interrupt, though it overwhelmed all the -millions in China. He lives on the sea, as prairie cocks in the prairie he -hides among the waves, he climbs them as chamois hunters climb the Alps. For -years he knows not the land so that when he comes to it at last, it smells -like another world, more strangely than the moon would to an Earthsman. With -the landless gull, that at sunset folds her wings and is rocked to sleep -between billows so at nightfall, the Nantucketer, out of sight of land, -furls his sails, and lays him to his rest, while under his very pillow rush -herds of walruses and whales. -It was quite late in the evening when the -little Moss came snugly to anchor, and Queequeg and I went ashore so we -could attend to no business that day, at least none but a supper and a bed. -The landlord of the SpouterInn had recommended us to his cousin Hosea Hussey -of the Try Pots, whom he asserted to -be the proprietor of one of the best kept hotels in all Nantucket, and -moreover he had assured us that cousin Hosea, as he called him, was famous for -his chowders. In short, he plainly hinted that we could not possibly do -better than try potluck at the Try Pots. But the directions he had given us -about keeping a yellow warehouse on our starboard hand till we opened a white -church to the larboard, and then keeping that on the larboard hand till we -made a corner three points to the starboard, and that done, then ask the first -man we met where the place was these crooked directions of his very much -puzzled us at first, especially as, at the outset, Queequeg insisted that the -yellow warehouse our first point of departure must be left on the larboard -hand, whereas I had understood Peter Coffin to say it was on the starboard. -However, by dint of beating about a little in the dark, and now and then -knocking up a peaceable inhabitant to inquire the way, we at last came to -something which there was no mistaking. Two enormous wooden pots painted -black, and suspended by asses' ears, swung from the crosstrees of an old -topmast, planted in front of an old doorway. The horns of the crosstrees -were sawed off on the other side, so that this old topmast looked not a -little like a gallows. Perhaps I was over sensitive to such impressions at -the time, but I could not help staring at this gallows with a vague -misgiving. A sort of crick was in my neck as I gazed up to the two remaining -horns yes, two of them, one for Queequeg, and one for me. It's ominous, -thinks I. A Coffin my Innkeeper upon landing in my first whaling port -tombstones staring at me in the whalemen's chapel and here a gallows and a -pair of prodigious black pots too Are these last throwing out oblique hints -touching tophet? I was called from these reflections by the sight of a -freckled woman with yellow hair and a yellow gown, standing in the porch of -the inn, under a dull red lamp swinging there, that looked much like an -injured eye, and carrying on a brisk scolding with a man in a purple woollen -shirt. Get along with ye, said she to the man, or I'll be combing ye -Come on, Queequeg, said I, all right. There's Mrs. Hussey. -And so it turned out Mr. Hosea Hussey being from home, but leaving Mrs. -Hussey entirely competent to attend to all his affairs. Upon making known our -desires for a supper and a bed, Mrs. Hussey, postponing further scolding for -the present, ushered us into a little room, and seating us at a table spread -with the relics of a recently concluded repast, turned round to us and -said Clam or Cod? What's that about Cods, ma'am? said I, with much -politeness. Clam or Cod? she repeated. A clam for supper? a cold clam -is that what you mean, Mrs. Hussey? says I but that's a rather cold and -clammy reception in the winter time, ain't it, Mrs Hussey? But being in a -great hurry to resume scolding the man in the purple shirt, who was waiting -for it in the entry, and seeming to hear nothing but the word clam, Mrs. -Hussey hurried towards an open door leading to the kitchen, and bawling out -clam for two, disappeared. Queequeg, said I, do you think that we can -make out a supper for us both on one clam? However, a warm savory steam from -the kitchen served to belie the apparently cheerless prospect before us. But -when that smoking chowder came in, the mystery was delightfully explained. -Oh, sweet friends hearken to me. It was made of small juicy clams, scarcely -bigger than hazel nuts, mixed with pounded ship biscuit, and salted pork cut -up into little flakes the whole enriched with butter, and plentifully -seasoned with pepper and salt. Our appetites being sharpened by the frosty -voyage, and in particular, Queequeg seeing his favorite fishing food before -him, and the chowder being surpassingly excellent, we despatched it with -great expedition when leaning back a moment and bethinking me of Mrs. -Hussey's clam and cod announcement, I thought I would try a little experiment. -Stepping to the kitchen door, I uttered the word cod with great emphasis, -and resumed my seat. In a few moments the savory steam came forth again, but -with a different flavor, and in good time a fine codchowder was placed -before us. We resumed business and while plying our spoons in the -bowl, thinks I to myself, I wonder now if this here has any effect on the -head? What's that stultifying saying about chowderheaded people? But look, -Queequeg, ain't that a live eel in your bowl? Where's your harpoon? -Fishiest of all fishy places was the Try Pots, which well deserved its name -for the pots there were always boiling chowders. Chowder for breakfast, and -chowder for dinner, and chowder for supper, till you began to look for -fishbones coming through your clothes. The area before the house was paved -with clamshells. Mrs. Hussey wore a polished necklace of codfish vertebra -and Hosea Hussey had his account books bound in superior old sharkskin. -There was a fishy flavor to the milk, too, which I could not at all account -for, till one morning happening to take a stroll along the beach among some -fishermen's boats, I saw Hosea's brindled cow feeding on fish remnants, and -marching along the sand with each foot in a cod's decapitated head, looking -very slipshod, I assure ye. Supper concluded, we received a lamp, and -directions from Mrs. Hussey concerning the nearest way to bed but, as -Queequeg was about to precede me up the stairs, the lady reached forth her -arm, and demanded his harpoon she allowed no harpoon in her chambers. Why -not? said I every true whaleman sleeps with his harpoon but why not? -Because it's dangerous, says she. Ever since young Stiggs coming from that -unfort'nt v'y'ge of his, when he was gone four years and a half, with only -three barrels of ile, was found dead in my first floor back, with his -harpoon in his side ever since then I allow no boarders to take sich -dangerous weepons in their rooms at night. So, Mr. Queequeg for she had -learned his name, I will just take this here iron, and keep it for you till -morning. But the chowder clam or cod tomorrow for breakfast, men? Both, -says I and let's have a couple of smoked herring by way of variety. -In bed we concocted our plans for the morrow. -But to my surprise and no small concern, Queequeg now gave me to understand, -that he had been diligently consulting Yojo the name of his black little god -and Yojo had told him two or three times over, and strongly insisted upon it -everyway, that instead of our going together among the whalingfleet in -harbor, and in concert selecting our craft instead of this, I say, Yojo -earnestly enjoined that the selection of the ship should rest wholly with me, -inasmuch as Yojo purposed befriending us and, in order to do so, had already -pitched upon a vessel, which, if left to myself, I, Ishmael, should -infallibly light upon, for all the world as though it had turned out by -chance and in that vessel I must immediately ship myself, for the present -irrespective of Queequeg. I have forgotten to mention that, in many things, -Queequeg placed great confidence in the excellence of Yojo's judgment and -surprising forecast of things and cherished Yojo with considerable esteem, -as a rather good sort of god, who perhaps meant well enough upon the whole, -but in all cases did not succeed in his benevolent designs. Now, this plan of -Queequeg's, or rather Yojo's, touching the selection of our craft I did not -like that plan at all. I had not a little relied on Queequeg's sagacity to -point out the whaler best fitted to carry us and our fortunes securely. But -as all my remonstrances produced no effect upon Queequeg, I was obliged to -acquiesce and accordingly prepared to set about this business with a -determined rushing sort of energy and vigor, that should quickly settle that -trifling little affair. Next morning early, leaving Queequeg shut up with -Yojo in our little bedroom for it seemed that it was some sort of Lent or -Ramadan, or day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer with Queequeg and Yojo -that -day how it was I never could find out, for, though I applied myself to it -several times, I never could master his liturgies and XXXIX Articles leaving -Queequeg, then, fasting on his tomahawk pipe, and Yojo warming himself at -his sacrificial fire of shavings, I sallied out among the shipping. After -much prolonged sauntering and many random inquiries, I learnt that there -were three ships up for threeyears' voyages The DevilDam the Titbit, -and the pequod. devil dam, i do not know the origin of titbit is -obvious Pequod, you will no doubt remember, was the name of a celebrated -tribe of Massachusetts Indians, now extinct as the ancient Medes. I peered -and pryed about the DevilDam from her, hopped over to the Titbit and, -finally, going on board the Pequod, looked around her for a moment, and then -decided that this was the very ship for us. You may have seen many a quaint -craft in your day, for aught I know squaredtoed luggers mountainous -Japanese junks butterbox galliots, and what not but take my word for it, -you never saw such a rare old craft as this same rare old Pequod. She was a -ship of the old school, rather small if anything with an old fashioned -clawfooted look about her. Long seasoned and weatherstained in the typhoons -and calms of all four oceans, her old hull's complexion was darkened like a -French grenadier's, who has alike fought in Egypt and Siberia. Her -venerable bows looked bearded. Her mastscut somewhere on the coast of Japan, -where her original ones were lost overboard in a gale her masts stood -stiffly up like the spines of the three old kings of Cologne. Her ancient -decks were worn and wrinkled, like the pilgrimworshipped flagstone in -Canterbury Cathedral where Beckett bled. But to all these her old -antiquities, were added new and marvellous features, pertaining to the wild -business that for more than half a century she had followed. Old Captain -Peleg, many years her chiefmate, before he commanded another vessel of his -own, and now a retired seaman, and one of the principal owners of the -Pequod, this old Peleg, during the term of his chiefmateship, had built upon -her original grotesqueness, and inlaid it, all over, with a quaintness both -of material and device, unmatched by anything except it be ThorkillHake's -carved buckler or bedstead. She was -apparelled like any barbaric Ethiopian emperor, his neck heavy with pendants -of polished ivory. She was a thing of trophies. A cannibal of a craft, -tricking herself forth in the chased bones of her enemies. All round, her -unpanelled, open bulwarks were garnished like one continuous jaw, with the -long sharp teeth of the sperm whale, inserted there for pins, to fasten her -old hempen thews and tendons to. Those thews ran not through base blocks of -land wood, but deftly travelled over sheaves of seaivory. Scorning a -turnstile wheel at her reverend helm, she sported there a tiller and that -tiller was in one mass, curiously carved from the long narrow lower jaw of her -hereditary foe. The helmsman who steered by that tiller in a tempest, felt -like the Tartar, when he holds back his fiery steed by clutching its jaw. A -noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy All noble things are touched -with that. Now when I looked about the quarterdeck, for some one having -authority, in order to propose myself as a candidate for the voyage, at -first I saw nobody but I could not well overlook a strange sort of tent, or -rather wigwam, pitched a little behind the mainmast. It seemed only a -temporary erection used in port. It was of a conical shape, some ten feet -high consisting of the long, huge slabs of limber black bone taken from -the middle and highest part of the jaws of the rightwhale. Planted with their -broad ends on the deck, a circle of these slabs laced together, mutually -sloped towards each other, and at the apex united in a tufted point, where -the loose hairy fibres waved to and fro like a topknot on some old -Pottowotamie Sachem's head. A triangular opening faced towards the bows of -the ship, so that the insider commanded a complete view forward. And half -concealed in this queer tenement, I at length found one who by his aspect -seemed to have authority and who, it being noon, and the ship's work -suspended, was now enjoying respite from the burden of command. He was seated -on an oldfashioned oaken chair, wriggling all over with curious carving and -the bottom of which was formed of a stout interlacing of the same elastic -stuff of which the wigwam was constructed. There was nothing so very -particular, perhaps, about the -appearance of the elderly man I saw he was brown and brawny, like most old -seamen, and heavily rolled up in blue pilotcloth, cut in the Quaker style -only there was a fine and almost microscopic network of the minutest wrinkles -interlacing round his eyes, which must have arisen from his continual -sailings in many hard gales, and always looking to windward for this -causes the muscles about the eyes to become pursed together. Such -eyewrinkles are very effectual in a scowl. Is this the Captain of the -Pequod? said I, advancing to the door of the tent. Supposing it be the -Captain of the Pequod, what dost thou want of him? he demanded. I was -thinking of shipping. Thou wast, wast thou? I see thou are no Nantucketer -ever been in a stove boat? No, Sir, I never have. Dost know nothing at -all about whaling, I dare say eh? Nothing, Sir but I have no doubt I -shall soon learn. I've been several voyages in the merchant service, and I -think that Merchant service be damned. Talk not that lingo to me. Dost -see that leg? I'll take that leg away from thy stern, if ever thou talkest -of the marchant service to me again. Marchant service indeed I suppose now -ye feel considerable proud of having served in those marchant ships. But -flukes man, what makes thee want to go a whaling, eh? it looks a little -suspicious, don't it, eh? Hast not been a pirate, hast thou? Didst not rob -thy last Captain, didst thou? Dost not think of murdering the officers when -thou gettest to sea? I protested my innocence of these things. I saw that -under the mask of these half humorous inuendoes, this old seaman, as an -insulated Quakerish Nantucketer, was full of his insular prejudices, and -rather distrustful of all aliens, unless they hailed from Cape Cod or the -Vineyard. But what takes thee awhaling? I want to know that before I think -of shipping ye. Well, sir, I want to see what whaling is. I want to see -the world. Want to see what whaling is, eh? Have ye clapped eye on -Captain Ahab? -Who is Captain Ahab, sir? Aye, aye, I thought so. Captain Ahab is the -Captain of this ship. I am mistaken then. I thought I was speaking to the -Captain himself. Thou art speaking to Captain Peleg that's who ye are -speaking to, young man. It belongs to me and Captain Bildad to see the -Pequod fitted out for the voyage, and supplied with all her needs, including -crew. We are part owners and agents. But as I was going to say, if thou -wantest to know what whaling is, as thou tellest ye do, I can put ye in a way -of finding it out before ye bind yourself to it, past backing out. Clap eye -on Captain Ahab, young man, and thou wilt find that he has only one leg. -What do you mean, sir? Was the other one lost by a whale? Lost by a whale -Young man, come nearer to me it was devoured, chewed up, crunched by the -monstrousest parmacetty that ever chipped a boat ah, ah I was a little -alarmed by his energy, perhaps also a little touched at the hearty grief in -his concluding exclamation, but said as calmly as I could, What you say is -no doubt true enough, sir but how could I know there was any peculiar -ferocity in that particular whale, though indeed I might have inferred as -much from the simple fact of the accident. Look ye now, young man, thy -lungs are a sort of soft, d'ye see thou dost not talk shark a bit. Sure, -ye've been to sea before now sure of that? Sir, said I, I thought I -told you that I had been four voyages in the merchant Hard down out of -that Mind what I said about the marchant service don't aggravate me I -won't have it. But let us understand each other. I have given thee a hint -about what whaling is do ye yet feel inclined for it? I do, sir. Very -good. Now, art thou the man to pitch a harpoon down a live whale's throat, -and then jump after it? Answer, quick I am, sir, if it should be -positively indispensable to do so not to be got rid of, that is which I -don't take to be the fact. Good again. Now then, thou not only wantest to -go awhaling, to find out by experience what whaling is, but ye also want to -go in order to see the world? Was not that what ye said? I thought so. Well -then, just step forward there, and take a peep over the weatherbow, and -then back to me and tell me what ye see there. For a moment I stood a little -puzzled by this curious request, not knowing exactly how to take it, whether -humorously or in earnest. But concentrating all his crow's feet into one -scowl, Captain Peleg started me on the errand. Going forward and glancing -over the weather bow, I perceived that the ship swinging to her anchor with -the floodtide, was now obliquely pointing towards the open ocean. The -prospect was unlimited, but exceedingly monotonous and forbidding not the -slightest variety that I could see. Well, what's the report? said Peleg -when I came back what did ye see? Not much, I replied nothing but -water considerable horizon though, and there's a squall coming up, I -think. Well, what dost thou think then of seeing the world? Do ye wish to -go round Cape Horn to see any more of it, eh? Can't ye see the world where -you stand? I was a little staggered, but go awhaling I must, and I would -and the Pequod was as good a ship as any I thought the best and all this I -now repeated to Peleg. Seeing me so determined, he expressed his willingness -to ship me. And thou mayest as well sign the papers right off, he added -come along with ye. And so saying, he led the way below deck into the -cabin. seated on the transom was what seemed to me a most uncommon and -surprising figure. It turned out to be Captain Bildad, who along with -Captain Peleg was one of the largest owners of the vessel the other shares, -as is sometimes the case in these ports, being held by a crowd of old -annuitants widows, fatherless children, and chancery wards each owning -about the value of a timber head, or a foot of plank, or a nail or two in the -ship. People in Nantucket invest their money in whaling vessels, the same -way that you do yours in approved state stocks bringing in good interest. -Now, Bildad, like Peleg, and indeed many other Nantucketers, -was a Quaker, the island having been originally settled by that sect and to -this day its inhabitants in general retain in an uncommon measure the -peculiarities of the Quaker, only variously and anomalously modified by -things altogether alien and heterogeneous. For some of these same Quakers are -the most sanguinary of all sailors and whalehunters. They are fighting -Quakers they are Quakers with a vengeance. So that there are instances among -them of men, who, named with Scripture names a singularly common fashion on -the island and in childhood naturally imbibing the stately dramatic thee and -thou of the Quaker idiom still, from the audacious, daring, and boundless -adventure of their subsequent lives, strangely blend with these unoutgrown -peculiarities, a thousand bold dashes of character, not unworthy a -Scandinavian seaking, or a poetical Pagan Roman. And when these things unite -in a man of greatly superior natural force, with a globular brain and a -ponderous heart who has also by the stillness and seclusion of many long -nightwatches in the remotest waters, and beneath constellations never seen -here at the north, been led to think untraditionally and independently -receiving all nature's sweet or savage impressions fresh from her own virgin -voluntary and confiding breast, and thereby chiefly, but with some help from -accidental advantages, to learn a bold and nervous lofty language that man -makes one in a whole nation's census a mighty pageant creature, formed for -noble tragedies. Nor will it at all detract from him, dramatically regarded, -if either by birth or other circumstances, he have what seems a half wilful -overruling morbidness at the bottom of his nature. For all men tragically -great are made so through a certain morbidness. Be sure of this, O young -ambition, all mortal greatness is but disease. But, as yet we have not to -do with such an one, but with quite another and still a man, who, if indeed -peculiar, it only results again from another phase of the Quaker, modified by -individual circumstances. Like Captain Peleg, Captain Bildad was a welltodo, -retired whaleman. But unlike Captain Peleg who cared not a rush for what -are called serious things, and indeed deemed those selfsame serious things -the veriest of all trifles Captain Bildad -had not only been originally educated according to the strictest sect of -Nantucket Quakerism, but all his subsequent ocean life, and the sight of many -unclad, lovely island creatures, round the Horn all that had not moved this -native born Quaker one single jot, had not so much as altered one angle of -his vest. Still, for all this immutableness, was there some lack of common -consistency about worthy Captain Bildad. Though refusing, from conscientious -scruples, to bear arms against land invaders, yet himself had illimitably -invaded the Atlantic and Pacific and though a sworn foe to human bloodshed, -yet had he in his straightbodied coat, spilled tuns upon tuns of leviathan -gore. How now in the contemplative evening of his days, the pious Bildad -reconciled these things in the reminiscence, I do not know but it did not -seem to concern him much, and very probably he had long since come to the -sage and sensible conclusion that a man's religion is one thing, and this -practical world quite another. This world pays dividends. Rising from a -little cabinboy in short clothes of the drabbest drab, to a harpooneer in a -broad shadbellied waistcoat from that becoming boatheader, chiefmate, and -captain, and finally a shipowner Bildad, as I hinted before, had concluded -his adventurous career by wholly retiring from active life at the goodly age -of sixty, and dedicating his remaining days to the quiet receiving of his -wellearned income. Now Bildad, I am sorry to say, had the reputation of -being an incorrigible old hunks, and in his seagoing days, a bitter, hard -taskmaster. They told me in Nantucket, though it certainly seems a curious -story, that when he sailed the old Categut whaleman, his crew, upon arriving -home, were mostly all carried ashore to the hospital, sore exhausted and worn -out. For a pious man, especially for a Quaker, he was certainly rather -hardhearted to say the least. He never used to swear, though, at his men, -they said but somehow he got an inordinate quantity of cruel, unmitigated -hard work out of them. When Bildad was a chiefmate, to have his -drabcolored eye intently looking at you, made you feel completely nervous, -till you could clutch something a hammer or a marlingspike, and go to work -like mad, at something or other, never mind what. Indolence and -idleness perished from before him. His own person was the exact embodiment of -his utilitarian character. On his long, gaunt body, he carried no spare -flesh, no superfluous beard, his chin having a soft, economical nap to it, -like the worn nap of his broadbrimmed hat. Such, then, was the person that I -saw seated on the transom when I followed Captain Peleg down into the cabin. -The space between the decks was small and there, boltupright, sat old -Bildad, who always sat so, and never leaned, and this to save his coat -tails. His broadbrim was placed beside him his legs were stiffly crossed -his drab vesture was buttoned up to his chin and spectacles on nose, he -seemed absorbed in reading from a ponderous volume. Bildad, cried Captain -Peleg, at it again, Bildad, eh? Ye have been studying those Scriptures, -now, for the last thirty years, to my certain knowledge. How far ye got, -Bildad? As if long habituated to such profane talk from his old shipmate, -Bildad, without noticing his present irreverence, quietly looked up, and -seeing me, glanced again inquiringly towards Peleg. He says he's our man, -Bildad, said Peleg, he wants to ship. Dost thee? said Bildad, in a -hollow tone, and turning round to me. I dost, said I unconsciously, he was -so intense a Quaker. What do ye think of him, Bildad? said Peleg. He'll -do, said Bildad, eyeing me, and then went on spelling away at his book in a -mumbling tone quite audible. I thought him the queerest old Quaker I ever saw, -especially as Peleg, his friend and old shipmate, seemed such a blusterer. -But I said nothing, only looking round me sharply. Peleg now threw open a -chest, and drawing forth the ship's articles, placed pen and ink before him, -and seated himself at a little table. I began to think it was high time to -settle with myself at what terms I would be willing to engage for the voyage. -I was already aware that in the whaling business they paid no wages but all -hands, including the captain, received certain shares of the profits called -lays, and that these lays were proportioned to the degree of importance -pertaining to the respective duties of the ship's company. -I was also aware that being a green hand at whaling, my own lay would not be -very large but considering that I was used to the sea, could steer a ship, -splice a rope, and all that, I made no doubt that from all I had heard I -should be offered at least the th lay that is, the th part of the clear -nett proceeds of the voyage, whatever that might eventually amount to. And -though the th lay was what they call a rather long lay, yet it was -better than nothing and if we had a lucky voyage, might pretty nearly pay -for the clothing I would wear out on it, not to speak of my three years' beef -and board, for which I would not have to pay one stiver. It might be thought -that this was a poor way to accumulate a princely fortune and so it was, a -very poor way indeed. But I am one of those that never take on about princely -fortunes, and am quite content if the world is ready to board and lodge me, -while I am putting up at this grim sign of the Thunder Cloud. Upon the whole, -I thought that the th lay would be about the fair thing, but would not -have been surprised had I been offered the th, considering I was of a -broadshouldered make. But one thing, nevertheless, that made me a little -distrustful about receiving a generous share of the profits was this Ashore, -I had heard something of both Captain Peleg and his unaccountable old crony -Bildad how that they being the principal proprietors of the Pequod, -therefore the other and more inconsiderable and scattered owners, left nearly -the whole management of the ship's affairs to these two. And I did not know -but what the stingy old Bildad might have a mighty deal to say about shipping -hands, especially as I now found him on board the Pequod, quite at home there -in the cabin, and reading his Bible as if at his own fireside. Now while -Peleg was vainly trying to mend a pen with his jackknife, old Bildad, to my -no small surprise, considering that he was such an interested party in these -proceedings Bildad never heeded us, but went on mumbling to himself out of -his book, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth -Well, Captain Bildad, interrupted Peleg, what d'ye say, what lay shall we -give this young man? -Thou knowest best, was the sepulchral reply, the seven hundred and -seventyseventh wouldn't be too much, would it? "where moth and rust do -corrupt, but lay" Lay, indeed, thought I, and such a lay the seven -hundred and seventyseventh Well, old Bildad, you are determined that I, -for one, shall not lay up many lays here below, where moth and rust do -corrupt. It was an exceedingly long lay that, indeed and though from the -magnitude of the figure it might at first deceive a landsman, yet the -slightest consideration will show that though seven hundred and seventyseven -is a pretty large number, yet, when you come to make a teenth of it, you -will then see, I say, that the seven hundred and seventyseventh part of a -farthing is a good deal less than seven hundred and seventyseven gold -doubloons and so I thought at the time. Why, blast your eyes, Bildad, -cried Peleg, Thou dost not want to swindle this young man he must have -more than that. Seven hundred and seventyseventh, again said Bildad, -without lifting his eyes and then went on mumbling for where your -treasure is, there will your heart be also. I am going to put him down for -the three hundredth, said Peleg, do ye hear that, Bildad The three -hundredth lay, I say. Bildad laid down his book, and turning solemnly -towards him said, Captain Peleg, thou hast a generous heart but thou must -consider the duty thou owest to the other owners of this ship widows and -orphans, many of them and that if we too abundantly reward the labors of this -young man, we may be taking the bread from those widows and those orphans. -The seven hundred and seventyseventh lay, Captain Peleg. Thou Bildad -roared Peleg, starting up and clattering about the cabin. Blast ye, Captain -Bildad, if I had followed thy advice in these matters, I would afore now had -a conscience to lug about that would be heavy enough to founder the largest -ship that ever sailed round Cape Horn. Captain Peleg, said Bildad -steadily, thy conscience may be drawing ten inches of water, or ten fathoms, -i can't tell but as thou art still an impenitent man, captain Peleg, I -greatly fear lest thy conscience be but a leaky one and will in the end -sink thee foundering down to the fiery pit, Captain Peleg. -Fiery pit fiery pit ye insult me, man past all natural bearing, ye -insult me. It's an allfired outrage to tell any human creature that he's -bound to hell. Flukes and flames Bildad, say that again to me, and start -my soulbolts, but I'llI'llyes, I'll swallow a live goat with all his -hair and horns on. Out of the cabin, ye canting, drabcolored son of a wooden -gun a straight wake with ye As he thundered out this he made a rush at -Bildad, but with a marvellous oblique, sliding celerity, Bildad for that -time eluded him. Alarmed at this terrible outburst between the two principal -and responsible owners of the ship, and feeling half a mind to give up all -idea of sailing in a vessel so questionably owned and temporarily commanded, -I stepped aside from the door to give egress to Bildad, who, I made no doubt, -was all eagerness to vanish from before the awakened wrath of Peleg. But to -my astonishment, he sat down again on the transom very quietly, and seemed -to have not the slightest intention of withdrawing. He seemed quite used to -impenitent Peleg and his ways. As for Peleg, after letting off his rage as -he had, there seemed no more left in him, and he, too, sat down like a lamb, -though he twitched a little as if still nervously agitated. Whew he -whistled at last the squall's gone off to leeward, I think. Bildad, thou -used to be good at sharpening a lance, mend that pen, will ye. My jackknife -here needs the grindstone. That's he thank ye, Bildad. Now then, my young -man, Ishmael's thy name, didn't ye say? Well then, down ye go here, Ishmael, -for the three hundredth lay. Captain Peleg, said I, I have a friend with -me who wants to ship too shall I bring him down tomorrow? To be sure, -said peleg. fetch him along, and we'll look at him. What lay does he -want? groaned Bildad, glancing up from the book in which he had again been -burying himself. Oh never thee mind about that, Bildad, said Peleg. Has -he ever whaled it any? turning to me. Killed more whales than I can count, -Captain Peleg. Well, bring him along then. -And, after signing the papers, off I went nothing doubting but that I had -done a good morning's work, and that the Pequod was the identical ship that -Yojo had provided to carry Queequeg and me round the Cape. But I had not -proceeded far, when I began to bethink me that the captain with whom I was to -sail yet remained unseen by me though, indeed, in many cases, a whaleship -will be completely fitted out, and receive all her crew on board, ere the -captain makes himself visible by arriving to take command for sometimes these -voyages are so prolonged, and the shore intervals at home so exceedingly -brief, that if the captain have a family, or any absorbing concernment of -that sort, he does not trouble himself much about his ship in port, but -leaves her to the owners till all is ready for sea. However, it is always as -well to have a look at him before irrevocably committing yourself into his -hands. Turning back I accosted Captain Peleg, inquiring where Captain Ahab -was to be found. And what dost thou want of Captain Ahab? It's all right -enough thou art shipped. Yes, but I should like to see him. But I -don't think thou wilt be able to at present. I don't know exactly what's the -matter with him but he keeps close inside the house a sort of sick, and -yet he don't look so. In fact, he ain't sick but no, he isn't well either. -Any how, young man, he won't always see me, so I don't suppose he will thee. -He's a queer man, Captain Ahab so some think but a good one. Oh, thou'lt -like him well enough no fear, no fear. he's a grand, ungodly, godlike -man, Captain Ahab doesn't speak much but, when he does speak, then you may -well listen. Mark ye, be forewarned Ahab's above the common Ahab's been -in colleges, as well as 'mong the cannibals been used to deeper wonders than -the waves fixed his fiery lance in mightier stranger foes than whales. His -lance aye, the keenest and the surest that out of all our isle Oh he -ain't Captain Bildad no, and he ain't Captain Peleg he's Ahab, boy and -Ahab of old, thou knowest, was a crowned king And a very vile one. When -that wicked king was slain, the dogs, did they not lick his blood? -Come hither to me hither, hither, said Peleg, with a significance in his -eye that almost startled me. Look ye, lad never say that on board the -Pequod. Never say it anywhere. Captain Ahab did not name himself. 'Twas a -foolish, ignorant whim of his crazy, widowed mother, who died when he was -only a twelvemonth old. And yet the old squaw Tistig, at Gayhead, said that -the name would somehow prove prophetic. And, perhaps, other fools like her -may tell thee the same. I wish to warn thee. It's a lie. I know Captain -Ahab well I've sailed with him as mate years ago I know what he isa -good man not a pious, good man, like Bildad, but a swearing good man -something like me only there's a good deal more of him. Aye, aye, I know -that he was never very jolly and I know that on the passage home, he was a -little out of his mind for a spell but it was the sharp shooting pains in -his bleeding stump that brought that about, as any one might see. I know, -too, that ever since he lost his leg last voyage by that accursed whale, he's -been a kind of moody desperate moody, and savage sometimes but that will -all pass off. And once for all, let me tell thee and assure thee, young man, -it's better to sail with a moody good captain than a laughing bad one. So -goodbye to thee and wrong not Captain Ahab, because he happens to have a -wicked name. Besides, my boy, he has a wife not three voyages wedded a -sweet, resigned girl. Think of that by that sweet girl that old man has a -child hold ye then there can be any utter, hopeless harm in Ahab? No, no, -my lad stricken, blasted, if he be, Ahab has his humanities As I walked -away, I was full of thoughtfulness what had been incidentally revealed to -me of Captain Ahab, filled me with a certain wild vagueness of painfulness -concerning him. And somehow, at the time, I felt a sympathy and a sorrow for -him, but for I don't know what, unless it was the cruel loss of his leg. And -yet I also felt a strange awe of him but that sort of awe, which I cannot at -all describe, was not exactly awe I do not know what it was. But I felt -it and it did not disincline me towards him though I felt impatience at -what seemed like mystery in him, so imperfectly as he was known to me then. -However, my thoughts were at length carried in other directions, so that for -the present dark Ahab slipped my mind. -As Queequeg's Ramadan, or Fasting and -Humiliation, was to continue all day, I did not choose to disturb him till -towards nightfall for I cherish the greatest respect towards everybody's -religious obligations, never mind how comical, and could not find it in my -heart to undervalue even a congregation of ants worshipping a toadstool or -those other creatures in certain parts of our earth, who with a degree of -footmanism quite unprecedented in other planets, bow down before the torso -of a deceased landed proprietor merely on account of the inordinate -possessions yet owned and rented in his name. I say, we good Presbyterian -christians should be charitable in these things, and not fancy ourselves so -vastly superior to other mortals, pagans and what not, because of their -halfcrazy conceits on these subjects. There was Queequeg, now, certainly -entertaining the most absurd notions about Yojo and his Ramadan but what of -that? Queequeg thought he knew what he was about, I suppose he seemed to be -content and there let him rest. All our arguing with him would not avail -let him be, I say and Heaven have mercy on us all Presbyterians and Pagans -alike for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly -need mending. Towards evening, when I felt assured that all his performances -and rituals must be over, I went up to his room and knocked at the door but -no answer. I tried to open it, but it was fastened inside. Queequeg, said -I softly through the keyhole all silent. I say, Queequeg why don't you -speak? It's IIshmael. But all remained still as before. I began to grow -alarmed. I had allowed him such abundant time I thought he might have had -an apoplectic fit. I looked through the keyhole but the door opening into -an odd corner of the room, the keyhole prospect was but a crooked and -sinister one. I could only see part of the footboard of the bed and a line of -the wall, but nothing more. I was surprised to behold resting against the -wall the wooden shaft of Queequeg's harpoon, which the landlady the evening -previous had taken from him, before our mounting to the chamber. That's -strange, thought I but at any rate, since the harpoon stands yonder, and he -seldom or never goes abroad without it, therefore he must be inside here, -and no possible mistake. Queequeg Queequeg all still. Something must -have happened. Apoplexy I tried to burst open the door but it stubbornly -resisted. Running down stairs, I quickly stated my suspicions to the first -person i met the chambermaid. la la she cried, i thought something -must be the matter. I went to make the bed after breakfast, and the door -was locked and not a mouse to be heard and it's been just so silent ever -since. But I thought, may be, you had both gone off and locked your baggage -in for safe keeping. La La, ma'am Mistress murder Mrs. Hussey -apoplexy and with these cries, she ran towards the kitchen, I following. -Mrs. Hussey soon appeared, with a mustardpot in one hand and a vinegarcruet -in the other, having just broken away from the occupation of attending to the -castors, and scolding her little black boy meantime. Woodhouse cried I, -which way to it? Run for God's sake, and fetch something to pry open the -door the axe the axe he's had a stroke depend upon it and so saying I -was unmethodically rushing up stairs again emptyhanded, when Mrs. Hussey -interposed the mustardpot and vinegarcruet, and the entire castor of her -countenance. What's the matter with you, young man? Get the axe For -God's sake, run for the doctor, some one, while I pry it open Look here, -said the landlady, quickly putting down the vinegarcruet, so as to have one -hand free look here are you talking about prying open any of my doors? -and with that she seized my arm. What's the matter with you? What's the -matter with you, shipmate? In as calm, but rapid a manner as possible, I -gave her to understand the whole case. Unconsciously clapping the -vinegarcruet -to one side of her nose, she ruminated for an instant then exclaimed No I -haven't seen it since I put it there. Running to a little closet under the -landing of the stairs, she glanced in, and returning, told me that Queequeg's -harpoon was missing. He's killed himself, she cried. It's unfort'nate -stiggs done over again there goes another counterpane god pity his poor -mother it will be the ruin of my house. Has the poor lad a sister? Where's -that girl? there, Betty, go to Snarles the Painter, and tell him to paint -me a sign, with "no suicides permitted here, and no smoking in the parlor" -might as well kill both birds at once. Kill? The Lord be merciful to his -ghost What's that noise there? You, young man, avast there And running -up after me, she caught me as I was again trying to force open the door. I -won't allow it I won't have my premises spoiled. Go for the locksmith, -there's one about a mile from here. But avast putting her hand in her -sidepocket, here's a key that'll fit, I guess let's see. And with that, -she turned it in the lock but, alas Queequeg's supplemental bolt remained -unwithdrawn within. Have to burst it open, said I, and was running down -the entry a little, for a good start, when the landlady caught at me, again -vowing I should not break down her premises but I tore from her, and with a -sudden bodily rush dashed myself full against the mark. With a prodigious -noise the door flew open, and the knob slamming against the wall, sent the -plaster to the ceiling and there, good heavens there sat Queequeg, -altogether cool and selfcollected right in the middle of the room -squatting on his hams, and holding Yojo on top of his head. He looked neither -one way nor the other way, but sat like a carved image with scarce a sign of -active life. Queequeg, said I, going up to him, Queequeg, what's the -matter with you? He hain't been a sittin' so all day, has he? said the -landlady. But all we said, not a word could we drag out of him I almost -felt like pushing him over, so as to change his position, for it was almost -intolerable, it seemed so painfully and unnaturally -constrained especially, as in all probability he had been sitting so for -upwards of eight or ten hours, going too without his regular meals. Mrs. -Hussey, said I, he's alive at all events so leave us, if you please, and -I will see to this strange affair myself. Closing the door upon the landlady, -I endeavored to prevail upon Queequeg to take a chair but in vain. There -he sat and all he could do for all my polite arts and blandishments he -would not move a peg, nor say a single word, nor even look at me, nor -notice my presence in any the slightest way. I wonder, thought I, if this can -possibly be a part of his Ramadan do they fast on their hams that way in his -native island. It must be so yes, it's part of his creed, I suppose -well, then, let him rest he'll get up sooner or later, no doubt. It can't -last for ever, thank God, and his Ramadan only comes once a year and I -don't believe it's very punctual then. I went down to supper. After sitting a -long time listening to the long stories of some sailors who had just come from -a plumpudding voyage, as they called it that is, a short whalingvoyage in -a schooner or brig, confined to the north of the line, in the Atlantic Ocean -only after listening to these plumpuddingers till nearly eleven o'clock, -I went up stairs to go to bed, feeling quite sure by this time Queequeg must -certainly have brought his Ramadan to a termination. But no there he was -just where I had left him he had not stirred an inch. I began to grow -vexed with him it seemed so downright senseless and insane to be sitting -there all day and half the night on his hams in a cold room, holding a piece -of wood on his head. For heaven's sake, Queequeg, get up and shake yourself -get up and have some supper. You'll starve you'll kill yourself, -Queequeg. But not a word did he reply. Despairing of him, therefore, I -determined to go to bed and to sleep and no doubt, before a great while, he -would follow me. But previous to turning in, I took my heavy bearskin -jacket, and threw it over him, as it promised to be a very cold night and he -had nothing but his ordinary round jacket on. For some time, do all I would, -I could not get into the faintest doze. I had blown out the candle and the -mere thought of Queequeg -not four feet off sitting there in that uneasy position, stark alone in -the cold and dark this made me really wretched. Think of it sleeping all -night in the same room with a wide awake pagan on his hams in this dreary, -unaccountable Ramadan But somehow I dropped off at last, and knew nothing -more till break of day when, looking over the bedside, there squatted -Queequeg, as if he had been screwed down to the floor. But as soon as the -first glimpse of sun entered the window, up he got, with stiff and grating -joints, but with a cheerful look limped towards me where I lay pressed -his forehead again against mine and said his Ramadan was over. Now, as I -before hinted, I have no objection to any person's religion, be it what it -may, so long as that person does not kill or insult any other person, -because that other person don't believe it also. But when a man's religion -becomes really frantic when it is a positive torment to him and, in fine, -makes this earth of ours an uncomfortable inn to lodge in then I think it -high time to take that individual aside and argue the point with him. And -just so I now did with Queequeg. Queequeg, said I, get into bed now, and -lie and listen to me. I then went on, beginning with the rise and progress -of the primitive religions, and coming down to the various religions of the -present time, during which time I labored to show Queequeg that all these -Lents, Ramadans, and prolonged hamsquattings in cold, cheerless rooms were -stark nonsense bad for the health useless for the soul opposed, in -short, to the obvious laws of Hygiene and common sense. I told him, too, that -he being in other things such an extremely sensible and sagacious savage, it -pained me, very badly pained me, to see him now so deplorably foolish about -this ridiculous Ramadan of his. Besides, argued I, fasting makes the body -cave in hence the spirit caves in and all thoughts born of a fast must -necessarily be halfstarved. This is the reason why most dyspeptic -religionists cherish such melancholy notions about their hereafters. In one -word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively hell is an idea first born on -an undigested appledumpling and since then perpetuated through the -hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans. -I then asked Queequeg whether he himself was ever troubled with dyspepsia -expressing the idea very plainly, so that he could take it in. He said no -only upon one memorable occasion. It was after a great feast given by his -father the king, on the gaining of a great battle wherein fifty of the enemy -had been killed by about two o'clock in the afternoon, and all cooked and -eaten that very evening. No more, Queequeg, said I, shuddering that will -do for I knew the inferences without his further hinting them. I had seen -a sailor who had visited that very island, and he told me that it was the -custom, when a great battle had been gained there, to barbecue all the slain -in the yard or garden of the victor and then, one by one, they were placed -in great wooden trenchers, and garnished round like a pilau, with breadfruit -and cocoanuts and with some parsley in their mouths, were sent round with -the victor's compliments to all his friends, just as though these presents -were so many Christmas turkeys. After all, I do not think that my remarks -about religion made much impression upon Queequeg. Because, in the first -place, he somehow seemed dull of hearing on that important subject, unless -considered from his own point of view and, in the second place, he did not -more than one third understand me, couch my ideas simply as I would and, -finally, he no doubt thought he knew a good deal more about the true religion -than I did. He looked at me with a sort of condescending concern and -compassion, as though he thought it a great pity that such a sensible young -man should be so hopelessly lost to evangelical pagan piety. At last we rose -and dressed and Queequeg, taking a prodigiously hearty breakfast of chowders -of all sorts, so that the landlady should not make much profit by reason of -his Ramadan, we sallied out to board the Pequod, sauntering along, and -picking our teeth with halibut bones. -As we were walking down the end of the wharf -towards the ship, Queequeg carrying his harpoon, Captain Peleg in his gruff -voice loudly hailed us from his wigwam, saying he had not suspected my friend -was a cannibal, and furthermore announcing that he let no cannibals on board -that craft, unless they previously produced their papers. What do you mean -by that, Captain Peleg? said I, now jumping on the bulwarks, and leaving my -comrade standing on the wharf. I mean, he replied, he must show his -papers. Yea, said Captain Bildad in his hollow voice, sticking his head -from behind Peleg's, out of the wigwam. He must show that he's converted. -Son of darkness, he added, turning to Queequeg, art thou at present in -communion with any christian church? Why, said I, he's a member of the -first Congregational Church. Here be it said, that many tattooed savages -sailing in Nantucket ships at last come to be converted into the churches. -First Congregational Church, cried Bildad, what that worships in Deacon -Deuteronomy Coleman's meetinghouse? and so saying, taking out his -spectacles, he rubbed them with his great yellow bandana handkerchief, and -putting them on very carefully, came out of the wigwam, and leaning stiffly -over the bulwarks, took a good long look at Queequeg. How long hath he been -a member? he then said, turning to me not very long, I rather guess, -young man. No, said Peleg, and he hasn't been baptized right either, or -it would have washed some of that devil's blue off his face. Do tell, now, -cried Bildad, is this Philistine a regular member of Deacon Deuteronomy's -meeting? I never saw him going there, and I pass it every Lord's day. -I don't know anything about Deacon Deuteronomy or his meeeting, said I, -all I know is, that Queequeg here is a born member of the First -Congregational Church. He is a deacon himself, Queequeg is. Young man, -said Bildad sternly, thou art skylarking with me explain thyself, thou -young Hittite. What church dost thee mean? answer me. Finding myself thus -hard pushed, I replied. I mean, sir, the same ancient Catholic Church to -which you and I, and Captain Peleg there, and Queequeg here, and all of us, -and every mother's son and soul of us belong the great and everlasting -First Congregation of this whole worshipping world we all belong to that -only some of us cherish some queer crotchets noways touching the grand belief -in that we all join hands. Splice, thou mean'st splice hands, cried -Peleg, drawing nearer. Young man, you'd better ship for a missionary, -instead of a foremast hand I never heard a better sermon. Deacon -Deuteronomy why Father Mapple himself couldn't beat it, and he's reckoned -something. Come aboard, come aboard never mind about the papers. I say, -tell Quohog there what's that you call him? tell Quohog to step along. By -the great anchor, what a harpoon he's got there looks like good stuff that -and he handles it about right. I say, Quohog, or whatever your name is, did -you ever stand in the head of a whaleboat? did you ever strike a fish? -Without saying a word, Queequeg, in his wild sort of way, jumped upon the -bulwarks, from thence into the bows of one of the whaleboats hanging to the -side and then bracing his left knee, and poising his harpoon, cried out in -some such way as this Cap'ain, you see him small drop tar on water dere? -You see him? well, spose him one whale eye, well, den and taking sharp -aim at it, he darted the iron right over old Bildad's broad brim, clean across -the ship's decks, and struck the glistening tar spot out of sight. Now, -said Queequeg, quietly hauling in the line, sposee him whalee eye why, -dad whale dead. Quick, Bildad, said Peleg, his partner, who, aghast at the -close vicinity of the flying harpoon, had retreated towards the cabin gangway. -Quick, I say, you Bildad, and get the ship's papers. We must have Hedgehog -there, I mean Quohog, in one of our boats. Look ye, Quohog, we'll give ye -the ninetieth lay, and that's more than ever was given a harpooneer yet out of -Nantucket. So down we went into the cabin, and to my great joy Queequeg -was soon enrolled among the same ship's company to which I myself belonged. -When all preliminaries were over and Peleg had got everything ready for -signing, he turned to me and said, I guess Quohog there don't know how to -write, does he? I say, Quohog, blast ye dost thou sign thy name or make thy -mark? But at this question, Queequeg, who had twice or thrice before taken -part in similar ceremonies, looked no ways abashed but taking the offered -pen, copied upon the paper, in the proper place, an exact counterpart of a -queer round figure which was tattooed upon his arm so that through Captain -Peleg's obstinate mistake touching his appellative, it stood something like -this Quohog his mark. Meanwhile Captain Bildad sat earnestly and -steadfastly eyeing Queequeg, and at last rising solemnly and fumbling in the -huge pockets of his broadskirted drab coat, took out a bundle of tracts, -and selecting one entitled The Latter Day Coming or No Time to Lose, placed -it in queequeg's hands, and then grasping them and the book with both his, -looked earnestly into his eyes, and said, Son of darkness, I must do my -duty by thee I am part owner of this ship, and feel concerned for the souls -of all its crew if thou still clingest to thy Pagan ways, which I sadly -fear, I beseech thee, remain not for aye a Belial bondsman. Spurn the idol -Bell, and the hideous dragon turn from the wrath to come mind thine eye, -I say oh goodness gracious steer clear of the fiery pit Something of -the salt sea yet lingered in old Bildad's language, heterogeneously mixed with -Scriptural and domestic phrases. Avast there, avast there, Bildad, avast now -spoiling our harpooneer, -cried Peleg. Pious harpooneers never make good voyagers it takes the shark -out of 'em no harpooneer is worth a straw who aint pretty sharkish. There -was young Nat Swaine, once the bravest boatheader out of all Nantucket and -the Vineyard he joined the meeting, and never came to good. He got so -frightened about his plaguy soul, that he shrinked and sheered away from -whales, for fear of afterclaps in case he got stove and went to Davy Jones. -Peleg Peleg said Bildad, lifting his eyes and hands, thou thyself, as -I myself, hast seen many a perilous time thou knowest, Peleg, what it is to -have the fear of death how, then, can'st thou prate in this ungodly guise. -Thou beliest thine own heart, Peleg. Tell me, when this same Pequod here had -her three masts overboard in that typhoon on Japan, that same voyage when -thou went mate with Captain Ahab, did'st thou not think of Death and the -Judgment then? Hear him, hear him now, cried Peleg, marching across the -cabin, and thrusting his hands far down into his pockets, hear him, all of -ye. Think of that When every moment we thought the ship would sink Death -and the judgment then? What? With all three masts making such an everlasting -thundering against the side and every sea breaking over us, fore and aft. -Think of Death and the Judgment then? No no time to think about Death then. -Life was what Captain Ahab and I was thinking of and how to save all hands -how to rig jurymasts how to get into the nearest port that was what I -was thinking of. Bildad said no more, but buttoning up his coat, stalked on -deck, where we followed him. There he stood, very quietly overlooking some -sailmakers who were mending a topsail in the waist. Now and then he -stooped to pick up a patch, or save an end of tarred twine, which otherwise -might have been wasted. -Shipmates, have ye shipped in that ship? -Queequeg and I had just left the Pequod, and were sauntering away from the -water, for the moment each occupied with his own thoughts, when the above -words were put to us by a stranger, who, pausing before us, levelled his -massive forefinger at the vessel in question. He was but shabbily apparelled -in faded jacket and patched trowsers a rag of a black handkerchief -investing his neck. A confluent smallpox had in all directions flowed over -his face, and left it like the complicated ribbed bed of a torrent, when the -rushing waters have been dried up. Have ye shipped in her? he repeated. -You mean the ship Pequod, I suppose, said I, trying to gain a little more -time for an uninterrupted look at him. Aye, the Pequod that ship there, he -said, drawing back his whole arm, and then rapidly shoving it straight out -from him, with the fixed bayonet of his pointed finger darted full at the -object. Yes, said I, we have just signed the articles. Anything down -there about your souls? About what? Oh, perhaps you hav'n't got any, he -said quickly. no matter though, i know many chaps that hav'n't got any, -good luck to 'em and they are all the better off for it. A soul's a sort -of a fifth wheel to a wagon. What are you jabbering about, shipmate? said -I. He's got enough, though, to make up for all deficiencies of that sort in -other chaps, abruptly said the stranger, placing a nervous emphasis upon the -word he. Queequeg, said I, let's go this fellow has broken loose from -somewhere he's talking about something and somebody we don't know. -Stop cried the stranger. Ye said true ye hav'n't seen Old Thunder yet, -have ye? Who's Old Thunder? said I, again riveted with the insane -earnestness of his manner. Captain Ahab. What the captain of our ship, -the Pequod? Aye, among some of us old sailor chaps, he goes by that name. -Ye hav'n't seen him yet, have ye? No, we hav'n't. He's sick they say, but -is getting better, and will be all right again before long. All right again -before long laughed the stranger, with a solemnly derisive sort of laugh. -Look ye when captain Ahab is all right, then this left arm of mine will be -all right not before. What do you know about him? What did they tell -you about him? Say that They didn't tell much of anything about him only -I've heard that he's a good whalehunter, and a good captain to his crew. -That's true, that's true yes, both true enough. But you must jump when he -gives an order. Step and growl growl and go that's the word with Captain -Ahab. But nothing about that thing that happened to him off Cape Horn, long -ago, when he lay like dead for three days and nights nothing about that -deadly skrimmage with the Spaniard afore the altar in Santa? heard nothing -about that, eh? Nothing about the silver calabash he spat into? And nothing -about his losing his leg last voyage, according to the prophecy. Didn't ye -hear a word about them matters and something more, eh? No, I don't think ye -did how could ye? Who knows it? Not all Nantucket, I guess. But -hows'ever, mayhap, ye've heard tell about the leg, and how he lost it aye, -ye have heard of that, I dare say. Oh yes, that every one knows a'most I -mean they know he's only one leg and that a parmacetti took the other off. -My friend, said I, what all this gibberish of yours is about, I don't -know, and I don't much care for it seems to me that you must be a little -damaged in the head. But if you are speaking of Captain Ahab, of that ship -there, the Pequod, then let me tell you, that I know all about the loss of -his leg. -All about it, eh sure you do? all? Pretty sure. With finger pointed -and eye levelled at the Pequod, the beggarlike stranger stood a moment, as if -in a troubled reverie then starting a little, turned and said Ye've -shipped, have ye? Names down on the papers? Well, well, what's signed, is -signed and what's to be, will be and then again, perhaps it wont be, after -all. Any how, it's all fixed and arranged a'ready and some sailors or -other must go with him, I suppose as well these as any other men, God pity -'em Morning to ye, shipmates, morning the ineffable heavens bless ye I'm -sorry I stopped ye. Look here, friend, said I, if you have anything -important to tell us, out with it but if you are only trying to bamboozle -us, you are mistaken in your game that's all I have to say. And it's said -very well, and I like to hear a chap talk up that way you are just the man -for him the likes of ye. Morning to ye, shipmates, morning Oh, when ye get -there, tell 'em I've concluded not to make one of 'em. Ah, my dear fellow, -you can't fool us that way you can't fool us. It is the easiest thing in -the world for a man to look as if he had a great secret in him. Morning to -ye, shipmates, morning. Morning it is, said I. Come along, Queequeg, -let's leave this crazy man. But stop, tell me your name, will you? -Elijah. Elijah thought I, and we walked away, both commenting, after -each other's fashion, upon this ragged old sailor and agreed that he was -nothing but a humbug, trying to be a bugbear. But we had not gone perhaps -above a hundred yards, when chancing to turn a corner, and looking back as I -did so, who should be seen but Elijah following us, though at a distance. -Somehow, the sight of him struck me so, that I said nothing to Queequeg of -his being behind, but passed on with my comrade, anxious to see whether the -stranger would turn the same corner that we did. He did and then it seemed -to me that he was dogging us, but with what intent I could not for the life -of me imagine. This circumstance, coupled with his ambiguous, halfhinting, -halfrevealing, shrouded sort of talk, now begat in me -all kinds of vague wonderments and halfapprehensions, and all connected with -the Pequod and Captain Ahab and the leg he had lost and the Cape Horn -fit and the silver calabash and what Captain Peleg had said of him, when -I left the ship the day previous and the prediction of the squaw Tistig -and the voyage we had bound ourselves to sail and a hundred other shadowy -things. I was resolved to satisfy myself whether this ragged Elijah was -really dogging us or not, and with that intent crossed the way with Queequeg, -and on that side of it retraced our steps. But Elijah passed on, without -seeming to notice us. This relieved me and once more, and finally as it -seemed to me, I pronounced him in my heart, a humbug. -I stuffed a shirt or two into my old -carpetbag, tucked it under my arm, and started for Cape Horn and the -Pacific. Quitting the good city of old Manhatto, I duly arrived in New -Bedford. It was on a Saturday night in December. Much was I disappointed -upon learning that the little packet for Nantucket had already sailed, and -that no way of reaching that place would offer, till the following Monday. As -most young candidates for the pains and penalties of whaling -stop at this same New Bedford, thence to embark on their voyage, it may as -well be related that I, for one, had no idea of so doing. For my mind was -made up to sail in no other than a Nantucket craft, because there was a fine, -boisterous something about everything connected with that famous old island, -which amazingly pleased me. Besides though New Bedford has of late been -gradually monopolizing the business of whaling, and though in this matter poor -old Nantucket is now much behind her, yet Nantucket was her great original -the Tyre of this Carthage the place where the first dead American whale -was stranded. Where else but from Nantucket did those aboriginal whalemen, -the RedMen, first sally out in canoes to give chase to the Leviathan? And -where but from Nantucket, too, did that first adventurous little sloop put -forth, partly laden with imported cobblestones so goes the story to throw -at the whales, in order to discover when they were nigh enough to risk a -harpoon from the bowsprit? Now having a night, a day, and still another night -following before me in New Bedford, ere I could embark for my destined port, -it became a matter of concernment where I was to eat and sleep meanwhile. It -was a very dubiouslooking, nay, a very dark and dismal night, bitingly cold -and cheerless. I knew no one in the place. With anxious grapnels I had -sounded my pocket, and only brought up a few pieces of silver, So, -wherever you go, Ishmael, said I to myself, as I stood in the middle of a -dreary street shouldering my bag, and comparing the gloom towards the north -with the darkness towards the south wherever in your wisdom you may conclude -to lodge for the night, my dear Ishmael, be sure to inquire the price, and -don't be too particular. With halting steps I paced the streets, and passed -the sign of The Crossed Harpoons but it looked too expensive and jolly -there. Further on, from the bright red windows of the SwordFish Inn, there -came such fervent rays, that it seemed to have melted the packed snow and ice -from before the house, for everywhere else the congealed frost lay ten inches -thick in a hard, asphaltic pavement, rather weary for me, when I struck my -foot against the flinty projections, because from hard, remorseless -service the soles of my boots were in a most miserable plight. Too expensive -and jolly, again thought I, pausing one moment to watch the broad glare in -the street, and hear the sounds of the tinkling glasses within. But go on, -Ishmael, said I at last don't you hear? get away from before the door -your patched boots are stopping the way. So on I went. I now by instinct -followed the streets that took me waterward, for there, doubtless, were the -cheapest, if not the cheeriest inns. Such dreary streets Blocks of -blackness, not houses, on either hand, and here and there a candle, like a -candle moving about in a tomb. At this hour of the night, of the last day of -the week, that quarter of the town proved all but deserted. But presently I -came to a smoky light proceeding from a low, wide building, the door of which -stood invitingly open. It had a careless look, as if it were meant for the -uses of the public so, entering, the first thing I did was to stumble over -an ashbox in the porch. Ha thought I, ha, as the flying particles almost -choked me, are these ashes from that destroyed city, Gomorrah? But The -Crossed Harpoons, and The SwordFish? this, then, must needs be the sign -of The Trap. However, I picked myself up and hearing a loud voice within, -pushed on and opened a second, interior door. It seemed the great Black -Parliament sitting in Tophet. A hundred black faces turned round in their -rows to peer and beyond, a black Angel of Doom was beating a book in a -pulpit. It was a negro church and the preacher's text was about the -blackness of darkness, and the weeping and wailing and teethgnashing -there. Ha, Ishmael, muttered I, backing out, Wretched entertainment at the -sign of The Trap Moving on, I at last came to a dim sort of light not far -from the docks, and heard a forlorn creaking in the air and looking up, -saw a swinging sign over the door with a white painting upon it, faintly -representing a tall straight jet of misty spray, and these words underneath -The SpouterInn Peter Coffin. Coffin? Spouter? Rather ominous in that -particular connexion, thought I. But it is a common name in Nantucket, -they say, and I suppose this Peter here is an emigrant from there. As the -light looked so dim, and the place, for the time, looked -quiet enough, and the dilapidated little wooden house itself looked as if it -might have been carted here from the ruins of some burnt district, and as the -swinging sign had a povertystricken sort of creak to it, I thought that here -was the very spot for cheap lodgings, and the best of pea coffee. It was a -queer sort of place a gableended old house, one side palsied as it were, and -leaning over sadly. It stood on a sharp bleak corner, where that tempestuous -wind Euroclydon kept up a worse howling than ever it did about poor Paul's -tossed craft. Euroclydon, nevertheless, is a mighty pleasant zephyr to any -one indoors, with his feet on the hob quietly toasting for bed. In judging -of that tempestuous wind called Euroclydon, says an old writer of whose -works I possess the only copy extant it maketh a marvellous difference, -whether thou lookest out at it from a glass window where the frost is all on -the outside, or whether thou observest it from that sashless window, where -the frost is on both sides, and of which the wight Death is the only -glazier. True enough, thought I, as this passage occurred to my mind old -blackletter, thou reasonest well. Yes, these eyes are windows, and this -body of mine is the house. What a pity they didn't stop up the chinks and the -crannies though, and thrust in a little lint here and there. But it's too -late to make any improvements now. The universe is finished the copestone -is on, and the chips were carted off a million years ago. Poor Lazarus -there, chattering his teeth against the curbstone for his pillow, and shaking -off his tatters with his shiverings, he might plug up both ears with rags, -and put a corncob into his mouth, and yet that would not keep out the -tempestuous Euroclydon. Euroclydon says old Dives, in his red silken -wrapper he had a redder one afterwards pooh, pooh What a fine frosty -night how Orion glitters what northern lights Let them talk of their -oriental summer climes of everlasting conservatories give me the privilege -of making my own summer with my own coals. But what thinks Lazarus? Can he -warm his blue hands by holding them up to the grand northern lights? Would -not Lazarus rather be in Sumatra than here? Would he not far rather lay him -down lengthwise along the line of the equator yea, ye -gods go down to the fiery pit itself, in order to keep out this frost? Now, -that Lazarus should lie stranded there on the curbstone before the door of -Dives, this is more wonderful than that an iceberg should be moored to one of -the Moluccas. Yet Dives himself, he too lives like a Czar in an ice palace -made of frozen sighs, and being a president of a temperance society, he only -drinks the tepid tears of orphans. But no more of this blubbering now, we are -going awhaling, and there is plenty of that yet to come. Let us scrape the -ice from our frosted feet, and see what sort of a place this Spouter may -be. -A day or two passed, and there was great -activity aboard the pequod. not only were the old sails being mended, but -new sails were coming on board, and bolts of canvas, and coils of rigging -in short, everything betokened that the ship's preparations were hurrying to a -close. Captain Peleg seldom or never went ashore, but sat in his wigwam -keeping a sharp lookout upon the hands Bildad did all the purchasing and -providing at the stores and the men employed in the hold and on the rigging -were working till long after nightfall. On the day following Queequeg's -signing the articles, word was given at all the inns where the ship's company -were stopping, that their chests must be on board before night, for there -was no telling how soon the vessel might be sailing. So Queequeg and I got -down our traps, resolving, however, to sleep ashore till the last. But it -seems they always give very long notice in these cases, and the ship did not -sail for several days. But no wonder there was a good deal to be done, and -there -is no telling how many things to be thought of, before the Pequod was fully -equipped. Every one knows what a multitude of things beds, saucepans, -knives and forks, shovels and tongs, napkins, nutcrackers, and what not, are -indispensable to the business of housekeeping. Just so with whaling, which -necessitates a threeyears' housekeeping upon the wide ocean, far from all -grocers, costermongers, doctors, bakers, and bankers. And though this also -holds true of merchant vessels, yet not by any means to the same extent as -with whalemen. For besides the great length of the whaling voyage, the -numerous articles peculiar to the prosecution of the fishery, and the -impossibility of replacing them at the remote harbors usually frequented, it -must be remembered, that of all ships, whaling vessels are the most exposed -to accidents of all kinds, and especially to the destruction and loss of the -very things upon which the success of the voyage most depends. Hence, the -spare boats, spare spars, and spare lines and harpoons, and spare everythings, -almost, but a spare captain and duplicate ship. At the period of our arrival -at the Island, the heaviest storage of the Pequod had been almost completed -comprising her beef, bread, water, fuel, and iron hoops and staves. But, as -before hinted, for some time there was a continual fetching and carrying on -board of divers odds and ends of things, both large and small. Chief among -those who did this fetching and carrying was Captain Bildad's sister, a lean -old lady of a most determined and indefatigable spirit, but withal very -kindhearted, who seemed resolved that, if she could help it, nothing should -be found wanting in the Pequod, after once fairly getting to sea. At one time -she would come on board with a jar of pickles for the steward's pantry -another time with a bunch of quills for the chief mate's desk, where he kept -his log a third time with a roll of flannel for the small of some one's -rheumatic back. Never did any woman better deserve her name, which was -Charity Aunt Charity, as everybody called her. And like a sister of -charity did this charitable Aunt Charity bustle about hither and thither, -ready to turn her hand and heart to anything that promised to yield safety, -comfort, and consolation to all on board -a ship in which her beloved brother Bildad was concerned, and in which she -herself owned a score or two of wellsaved dollars. But it was startling to -see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board, as she did the last -day, with a long oilladle in one hand, and a still longer whaling lance in -the other. Nor was Bildad himself nor Captain Peleg at all backward. As for -Bildad, he carried about with him a long list of the articles needed, and at -every fresh arrival, down went his mark opposite that article upon the paper. -Every once and a while Peleg came hobbling out of his whalebone den, roaring -at the men down the hatchways, roaring up to the riggers at the masthead, -and then concluded by roaring back into his wigwam. During these days of -preparation, Queequeg and I often visited the craft, and as often I asked -about Captain Ahab, and how he was, and when he was going to come on board -his ship. To these questions they would answer, that he was getting better -and better, and was expected aboard every day meantime, the two Captains, -Peleg and Bildad, could attend to everything necessary to fit the vessel for -the voyage. If I had been downright honest with myself, I would have seen -very plainly in my heart that I did but half fancy being committed this way to -so long a voyage, without once laying my eyes on the man who was to be the -absolute dictator of it, so soon as the ship sailed out upon the open sea. -But when a man suspects any wrong, it sometimes happens that if he be -already involved in the matter, he insensibly strives to cover up his -suspicions even from himself. And much this way it was with me. I said -nothing, and tried to think nothing. At last it was given out that some time -next day the ship would certainly sail. So next morning, Queequeg and I took -a very early start. -It was nearly six o'clock, but only grey -imperfect misty dawn, when we drew nigh the wharf. There are some sailors -running ahead there, if I see right, said I to Queequeg, it can't be -shadows she's off by sunrise, I guess come on Avast cried a voice, -whose owner at the same time coming close behind us, laid a hand upon both our -shoulders, and then insinuating himself between us, stood stooping forward a -little, in the uncertain twilight, strangely peering from Queequeg to me. It -was Elijah. Going aboard? Hands off, will you, said I. Lookee here, -said Queequeg, shaking himself, go 'way Aint going aboard, then? Yes, -we are, said I, but what business is that of yours? Do you know, Mr. -Elijah, that I consider you a little impertinent? No, no, no I wasn't -aware of that, said elijah, slowly and wonderingly looking from me to -Queequeg, with the most unaccountable glances. Elijah, said I, you will -oblige my friend and me by withdrawing. We are going to the Indian and Pacific -Oceans, and would prefer not to be detained. Ye be, be ye? Coming back -afore breakfast? He's cracked, Queequeg, said I, come on. Holloa -cried stationary Elijah, hailing us when we had removed a few paces. Never -mind him, said I, Queequeg, come on. But he stole up to us again, and -suddenly clapping his hand on my shoulder, said Did ye see anything looking -like men going towards that ship a while ago? Struck by this plain -matteroffact question, I answered, saying, -Yes, I thought I did see four or five men but it was too dim to be sure. -Very dim, very dim, said Elijah. Morning to ye. Once more we quitted him -but once more he came softly after us and touching my shoulder again, said, -See if you can find 'em now, will ye? Find who? Morning to ye morning -to ye he rejoined, again moving off. Oh I was going to warn ye against -but never mind, never mind it's all one, all in the family too sharp -frost this morning, ain't it? Good bye to ye. Shan't see ye again very -soon, I guess unless it's before the Grand Jury. And with these cracked -words he finally departed, leaving me, for the moment, in no small wonderment -at his frantic impudence. At last, stepping on board the Pequod, we found -everything in profound quiet, not a soul moving. The cabin entrance was -locked within the hatches were all on, and lumbered with coils of rigging. -Going forward to the forecastle, we found the slide of the scuttle open. -Seeing a light, we went down, and found only an old rigger there, wrapped in a -tattered peajacket. He was thrown at whole length upon two chests, his face -downwards and inclosed in his folded arms. The profoundest slumber slept -upon him. Those sailors we saw, Queequeg, where can they have gone to? -said I, looking dubiously at the sleeper. But it seemed that, when on the -wharf, Queequeg had not at all noticed what I now alluded to hence I would -have thought myself to have been optically deceived in that matter, were it -not for Elijah's otherwise inexplicable question. But I beat the thing down -and again marking the sleeper, jocularly hinted to Queequeg that perhaps we -had best sit up with the body telling him to establish himself accordingly. -He put his hand upon the sleeper's rear, as though feeling if it was soft -enough and then, without more ado, sat quietly down there. Gracious -Queequeg, don't sit there, said I. Oh perry dood seat, said Queequeg, my -country way won't hurt him face. Face said I, call that his face? very -benevolent countenance -then but how hard he breathes, he's heaving himself get off, Queequeg, -you are heavy, it's grinding the face of the poor. Get off, Queequeg Look, -he'll twitch you off soon. I wonder he don't wake. Queequeg removed himself -to just beyond the head of the sleeper, and lighted his tomahawk pipe. I sat -at the feet. We kept the pipe passing over the sleeper, from one to the -other. Meanwhile, upon questioning him in his broken fashion, Queequeg gave -me to understand that, in his land, owing to the absence of settees and sofas -of all sorts, the king, chiefs, and great people generally, were in the -custom of fattening some of the lower orders for ottomans and to furnish a -house comfortably in that respect, you had only to buy up eight or ten lazy -fellows, and lay them round in the piers and alcoves. Besides, it was very -convenient on an excursion much better than those gardenchairs which are -convertible into walkingsticks upon occasion, a chief calling his attendant, -and desiring him to make a settee of himself under a spreading tree, perhaps -in some damp marshy place. While narrating these things, every time Queequeg -received the tomahawk from me, he flourished the hatchetside of it over the -sleeper's head. What's that for, Queequeg? Perry easy, kille oh perry -easy He was going on with some wild reminiscences about his tomahawkpipe, -which, it seemed, had in its two uses both brained his foes and soothed his -soul, when we were directly attracted to the sleeping rigger. The strong -vapor now completely filling the contracted hole, it began to tell upon him. -He breathed with a sort of muffledness then seemed troubled in the nose -then revolved over once or twice then sat up and rubbed his eyes. Holloa -he breathed at last, who be ye smokers? Shipped men, answered I, when -does she sail? Aye, aye, ye are going in her, be ye? She sails today. -The Captain came aboard last night. What Captain? Ahab? Who but him -indeed? -I was going to ask him some further questions concerning Ahab, when we heard a -noise on deck. Halloa Starbuck's astir, said the rigger. He's a lively -chief mate, that good man, and a pious but all alive now, I must turn -to. And so saying he went on deck, and we followed. It was now clear -sunrise. Soon the crew came on board in twos and threes the riggers -bestirred themselves the mates were actively engaged and several of the -shore people were busy in bringing various last things on board. Meanwhile -Captain Ahab remained invisibly enshrined within his cabin. -At length, towards noon, upon the -final dismissal of the ship's riggers, and after the Pequod had been hauled -out from the wharf, and after the everthoughtful Charity had come off in a -whaleboat, with her last gift a nightcap for Stubb, the second mate, her -brotherinlaw, and a spare bible for the steward after all this, the two -captains, Peleg and Bildad, issued from the cabin, and turning to the chief -mate, Peleg said Now, Mr. Starbuck, are you sure everything is right? -Captain Ahab is all ready just spoke to him nothing more to be got from -shore, eh? Well, call all hands, then. Muster 'em aft here blast 'em No -need of profane words, however great the hurry, Peleg, said Bildad, but -away with thee, friend Starbuck, and do our bidding. How now Here upon the -very point of starting for the voyage, Captain Peleg and Captain Bildad were -going it with a high hand on the quarterdeck, just as if they were to be -jointcommanders at sea, as well as to all appearances in port. And, as for -Captain Ahab, no sign of him was yet to be seen Only, they said he was in the -cabin. But then, the idea was, -that his presence was by no means necessary in getting the ship under weigh, -and steering her well out to sea. Indeed, as that was not at all his proper -business, but the pilot's and as he was not yet completely recovered so -they said therefore, Captain Ahab stayed below. And all this seemed natural -enough especially as in the merchant service many captains never show -themselves on deck for a considerable time after heaving up the anchor, but -remain over the cabin table, having a farewell merrymaking with their shore -friends, before they quit the ship for good with the pilot. But there was -not much chance to think over the matter, for Captain Peleg was now all -alive. He seemed to do most of the talking and commanding, and not Bildad. -Aft here, ye sons of bachelors, he cried, as the sailors lingered at the -mainmast. Mr. Starbuck, drive 'em aft. Strike the tent there was the -next order. As I hinted before, this whalebone marquee was never pitched -except in port and on board the Pequod, for thirty years, the order to -strike the tent was well known to be the next thing to heaving up the anchor. -Man the capstan Blood and thunder jump was the next command, and the -crew sprang for the handspikes. Now, in getting under weigh, the station -generally occupied by the pilot is the forward part of the ship. And here -Bildad, who, with Peleg, be it known, in addition to his other offices, was -one of the licensed pilots of the port he being suspected to have got himself -made a pilot in order to save the Nantucket pilotfee to all the ships he was -concerned in, for he never piloted any other craft Bildad, I say, might now -be seen actively engaged in looking over the bows for the approaching anchor, -and at intervals singing what seemed a dismal stave of psalmody, to cheer the -hands at the windlass, who roared forth some sort of a chorus about the girls -in Booble Alley, with hearty good will. Nevertheless, not three days -previous, Bildad had told them that no profane songs would be allowed on -board the Pequod, particularly in getting under weigh and Charity, his -sister, had placed a small choice copy of Watts in each seaman's berth. -Meantime, overseeing the other part of the ship, Captain Peleg -ripped and swore astern in the most frightful manner. I almost thought he -would sink the ship before the anchor could be got up involuntarily I paused -on my handspike, and told Queequeg to do the same, thinking of the perils we -both ran, in starting on the voyage with such a devil for a pilot. I was -comforting myself, however, with the thought that in pious Bildad might be -found some salvation, spite of his seven hundred and seventyseventh lay -when I felt a sudden sharp poke in my rear, and turning round, was horrified -at the apparition of Captain Peleg in the act of withdrawing his leg from my -immediate vicinity. That was my first kick. Is that the way they heave in -the marchant service? he roared. Spring, thou sheephead spring, and -break thy backbone why don't ye spring, i say, all of yespring Quohog -spring, thou chap with the red whiskers spring there, Scotchcap spring, -thou green pants. Spring, I say, all of ye, and spring your eyes out And -so saying, he moved along the windlass, here and there using his leg very -freely, while imperturbable Bildad kept leading off with his psalmody. Thinks -I, Captain Peleg must have been drinking something today. At last the anchor -was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a short, cold -Christmas and as the short northern day merged into night, we found -ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose freezing spray cased us -in ice, as in polished armor. The long rows of teeth on the bulwarks -glistened in the moonlight and like the white ivory tusks of some huge -elephant, vast curving icicles depended from the bows. Lank Bildad, as pilot, -headed the first watch, and ever and anon, as the old craft deep dived into -the green seas, and sent the shivering frost all over her, and the winds -howled, and the cordage rang, his steady notes were heard, Sweet fields -beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green. So to the Jews old -Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between. Never did those sweet words sound -more sweetly to me than then. They were full of hope and fruition. Spite of -this frigid -winter night in the boisterous Atlantic, spite of my wet feet and wetter -jacket, there was yet, it then seemed to me, many a pleasant haven in -store and meads and glades so eternally vernal, that the grass shot up by -the spring, untrodden, unwilted, remains at midsummer. At last we gained such -an offing, that the two pilots were needed no longer. The stout sailboat -that had accompanied us began ranging alongside. It was curious and not -unpleasing, how Peleg and Bildad were affected at this juncture, especially -Captain Bildad. For loath to depart, yet very loath to leave, for good, a -ship bound on so long and perilous a voyage beyond both stormy Capes a ship -in which some thousands of his hard earned dollars were invested a ship, in -which an old shipmate sailed as captain a man almost as old as he, once -more starting to encounter all the terrors of the pitiless jaw loath to say -goodbye to a thing so every way brimful of every interest to him, poor old -Bildad lingered long paced the deck with anxious strides" ran down into the -cabin to speak another farewell word there again came on deck, and looked -to windward looked towards the wide and endless waters, only bounded by the -faroff unseen Eastern Continents looked towards the land, looked aloft -looked right and left looked everywhere and nowhere and at last, -mechanically coiling a rope upon its pin, convulsively grasped stout Peleg by -the hand, and holding up a lantern, for a moment stood gazing heroically in -his face, as much as to say, Nevertheless, friend Peleg, I can stand it -yes, I can. As for Peleg himself, he took it more like a philosopher but -for all his philosophy, there was a tear twinkling in his eye, when the -lantern came too near. And he, too, did not a little run from cabin to deck -now a word below, and now a word with Starbuck, the chief mate. But, at -last, he turned to his comrade, with a final sort of look about him, Captain -Bildad come, old shipmate, we must go. Back the mainyard there Boat ahoy -Stand by to come close alongside, now Careful, careful come, Bildad, boy -say your last. Luck to ye, Starbuck luck to ye, Mr. Stubb luck to ye, -Mr. Flask goodbye, and good luck to ye all and this day three years I'll -have a hot supper smoking for ye in old Nantucket. Hurrah and away God -bless ye, and have ye in His holy keeping, men, murmured old Bildad, almost -incoherently. I hope ye'll have fine weather now, so that Captain Ahab may -soon be moving among ye a pleasant sun is all he needs, and ye'll have -plenty of them in the tropic voyage ye go. Be careful in the hunt, ye mates. -Don't stave the boats needlessly, ye harpooneers good white cedar plank is -raised full three per cent. within the year. Don't forget your prayers, -either. Mr Starbuck, mind that cooper don't waste the spare staves. Oh the -sailneedles are in the green locker Don't whale it too much a' Lord's days, -men but don't miss a fair chance either, that's rejecting Heaven's good -gifts. Have an eye to the molasses tierce, Mr. Stubb it was a little leaky, -I thought. If ye touch at the islands, Mr. Flask, beware of fornication. -Goodbye, goodbye Don't keep that cheese too long down in the hold, Mr. -Starbuck it'll spoil. Be careful with the butter twenty cents the pound it -was, and mind ye, if Come, come, Captain Bildad stop palavering, away -and with that, Peleg hurried him over the side, and both dropt into the -boat. Ship and boat diverged the cold, damp night breeze blew between a -screaming gull flew overhead the two hulls wildly rolled we gave three -heavyhearted cheers, and blindly plunged like fate into the lone Atlantic. -Some chapters back, one Bulkington was -spoken of, a tall, newlanded mariner, encountered in New Bedford at the inn. -When on that shivering winter's night, the Pequod thrust her vindictive bows -into the cold malicious waves, who should I see -standing at her helm but Bulkington I looked with sympathetic awe and -fearfulness upon the man, who in midwinter just landed from a four years' -dangerous voyage, could so unrestingly push off again for still another -tempestuous term. The land seemed scorching to his feet. Wonderfullest -things are ever the unmentionable deep memories yield no epitaphs this -sixinch chapter is the stoneless grave of Bulkington. Let me only say that -it fared with him as with the stormtossed ship, that miserably drives along -the leeward land. The port would fain give succor the port is pitiful in -the port is safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends, -all that's kind to our mortalities. But in that gale, the port, the land, is -that ship's direst jeopardy she must fly all hospitality one touch of -land, though it but graze the keel, would make her shudder through and -through. With all her might she crowds all sail off shore in so doing, -fights 'gainst the very winds that fain would blow her homeward seeks all -the lashed sea's landlessness again for refuge's sake forlornly rushing into -peril her only friend her bitterest foe Know ye, now, Bulkington? -Glimpses do ye seem to see of that mortally intolerable truth that all deep, -earnest thinking is but the intrepid effort of the soul to keep the open -independence of her sea while the wildest winds of heaven and earth -conspire to cast her on the treacherous, slavish shore? But as in landlessness -alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God so, better is -it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the -lee, even if that were safety For wormlike, then, oh who would craven -crawl to land Terrors of the terrible is all this agony so vain? Take -heart, take heart, O Bulkington Bear thee grimly, demigod Up from the spray -of thy oceanperishing straight up, leaps thy apotheosis -As Queequeg and I are now fairly embarked -in this business of whaling and as this business of whaling has somehow come -to be regarded among landsmen as a rather unpoetical and disreputable -pursuit therefore, I am all anxiety to convince ye, ye landsmen, of the -injustice hereby done to us hunters of whales. In the first place, it may be -deemed almost superfluous to establish the fact, that among people at large, -the business of whaling is not accounted on a level with what are called the -liberal professions. If a stranger were introduced into any miscellaneous -metropolitan society, it would but slightly advance the general opinion of -his merits, were he presented to the company as a harpooneer, say and if in -emulation of the naval officers he should append the initials S. W. F. Sperm -Whale Fishery to his visiting card, such a procedure would be deemed -preeminently presuming and ridiculous. Doubtless one leading reason why the -world declines honoring us whalemen, is this they think that, at best, our -vocation amounts to a butchering sort of business and that when actively -engaged therein, we are surrounded by all manner of defilements. Butchers we -are, that is true. But butchers, also, and butchers of the bloodiest badge -have been all Martial Commanders whom the world invariably delights to honor. -And as for the matter of the alleged uncleanliness of our business, ye shall -soon be initiated into certain facts hitherto pretty generally unknown, and -which, upon the whole, will triumphantly plant the sperm whaleship at least -among the cleanliest things of this tidy earth. But even granting the charge -in question to be true what disordered slippery decks of a whaleship are -comparable to the unspeakable carrion of those battlefields from which so -many soldiers return to drink in all ladies' plaudits? And if the -idea of peril so much enhances the popular conceit of the soldier's -profession let me assure ye that many a veteran who has freely marched up to -a battery, would quickly recoil at the apparition of the sperm whale's vast -tail, fanning into eddies the air over his head. For what are the -comprehensible terrors of man compared with the interlinked terrors and -wonders of God But, though the world scouts at us whale hunters, yet does it -unwittingly pay us the profoundest homage yea, an allabounding adoration -for almost all the tapers, lamps, and candles that burn round the globe, -burn, as before so many shrines, to our glory But look at this matter in -other lights weigh it in all sorts of scales see what we whalemen are, and -have been. Why did the Dutch in DeWitt's time have admirals of their whaling -fleets? Why did Louis XVI. of France, at his own personal expense, fit out -whaling ships from Dunkirk, and politely invite to that town some score or two -of families from our own island of Nantucket? Why did Britain between the -years -and -pay to her whalemen in bounties upwards of ,, -pounds? And lastly, how comes it that we whalemen of America now outnumber -all the rest of the banded whalemen in the world sail a navy of upwards of -seven hundred vessels manned by eighteen thousand men yearly consuming ,, of dollars the ships worth, at the time of sailing, ,, -dollars and every year importing into our harbors a well reaped harvest of ,, dollars. How comes all this, if there be not something puissant in -whaling? But this is not the half look again. I freely assert, that the -cosmopolite philosopher cannot, for his life, point out one single peaceful -influence, which within the last sixty years has operated more potentially -upon the whole broad world, taken in one aggregate, than the high and mighty -business of whaling. One way and another, it has begotten events so -remarkable in themselves, and so continuously momentous in their sequential -issues, that whaling may well be regarded as that Egyptian mother, who bore -offspring themselves pregnant from her womb. It would be a hopeless, endless -task to catalogue all these things. Let a handful suffice. For many -years past the whaleship has been the pioneer in ferreting out the remotest -and least known parts of the earth. She has explored seas and archipelagoes -which had no chart, where no Cook or Vancouver had ever sailed. If American -and european menofwar now peacefully ride in once savage harbors, let them -fire salutes to the honor and glory of the whaleship, which originally showed -them the way, and first interpreted between them and the savages. They may -celebrate as they will the heroes of Exploring Expeditions, your Cookes, -Your Krusensterns but I say that scores of anonymous Captains have sailed -out of Nantucket, that were as great, and greater than your Cooke and your -Krusenstern. For in their succorless emptyhandedness, they, in the -heathenish sharked waters, and by the beaches of unrecorded, javelin islands, -battled with virgin wonders and terrors that Cooke with all his marines and -muskets would not willingly have dared. All that is made such a flourish of -in the old South Sea Voyages, those things were but the lifetime commonplaces -of our heroic Nantucketers. Often, adventures which Vancouver dedicates three -chapters to, these men accounted unworthy of being set down in the ship's -common log. Ah, the world Oh, the world Until the whale fishery rounded -Cape Horn, no commerce but colonial, scarcely any intercourse but colonial, -was carried on between Europe and the long line of the opulent Spanish -provinces on the Pacific coast. It was the whaleman who first broke through -the jealous policy of the Spanish crown, touching those colonies and, if -space permitted, it might be distinctly shown how from those whalemen at last -eventuated the liberation of Peru, Chili, and Bolivia from the yoke of Old -Spain, and the establishment of the eternal democracy in those parts. That -great America on the other side of the sphere, Australia, was given to the -enlightened world by the whaleman. After its first blunderborn discovery by -a Dutchman, all other ships long shunned those shores as pestiferously -barbarous but the whaleship touched there. The whaleship is the true -mother of that now mighty colony. Moreover, in the infancy of the first -Australian settlement, the emigrants were several times saved -from starvation by the benevolent biscuit of the whaleship luckily dropping -an anchor in their waters. The uncounted isles of all Polynesia confess the -same truth, and do commercial homage to the whaleship, that cleared the way -for the missionary and the merchant, and in many cases carried the primitive -missionaries to their first destinations. If that doublebolted land, Japan, -is ever to become hospitable, it is the whaleship alone to whom the credit -will be due for already she is on the threshold. But if, in the face of all -this, you still declare that whaling has no aesthetically noble associations -connected with it, then am I ready to shiver fifty lances with you there, -and unhorse you with a split helmet every time. The whale has no famous -author, and whaling no famous chronicler, you will say. The whale no -famous author, and whaling no famous chronicler? Who wrote the first -account of our Leviathan? Who but mighty Job And who composed the first -narrative of a whalingvoyage? Who, but no less a prince than Alfred the -Great, who, with his own royal pen, took down the words from Other, the -Norwegian whalehunter of those times And who pronounced our glowing eulogy -in Parliament? Who, but Edmund Burke True enough, but then whalemen -themselves are poor devils they have no good blood in their veins. No good -blood in their veins? They have something better than royal blood there. -The grandmother of Benjamin Franklin was Mary Morrel" afterwards, by marriage, -Mary Folger, one of the old settlers of Nantucket, and the ancestress to a -long line of Folgers and harpooneers all kith and kin to noble Benjamin -this day darting the barbed iron from one side of the world to the other. -Good again but then all confess that somehow whaling is not respectable. -Whaling not respectable? Whaling is imperial By old English statutory -law, the whale is declared a royal fish. -Oh, that's only nominal The whale himself has never figured in any grand -imposing way. The whale never figured in any grand imposing way? In -one of the mighty triumphs given to a Roman general upon his entering the -world's capital, the bones of a whale, brought all the way from the Syrian -coast, were the most conspicuous object in the cymballed procession. Grant -it, since you cite it but, say what you will, there is no real dignity in -whaling. No dignity in whaling? The dignity of our calling the very -heavens attest. Cetus is a constellation in the South No more Drive down -your hat in presence of the Czar, and take it off to Queequeg No more I -know a man that, in his lifetime, has taken three hundred and fifty whales. I -account that man more honorable than that great captain of antiquity who -boasted of taking as many walled towns. And, as for me, if, by any -possibility, there be any as yet undiscovered prime thing in me if I shall -ever deserve any real repute in that small but high hushed world which I might -not be unreasonably ambitious of if hereafter I shall do anything that, -upon the whole, a man might rather have done than to have left undone if, at -my death, my executors, or more properly my creditors, find any precious MSS. -in my desk, then here I prospectively ascribe all the honor and the glory to -whaling for a whaleship was my Yale College and my Harvard. -See subsequent chapters for something more on this head. -See subsequent chapters for something more on this head. -In behalf of the dignity of whaling, I -would fain advance naught but substantiated facts. But after embattling his -facts, an advocate who should wholly suppress a not unreasonable -surmise, which might tell eloquently upon his cause such an advocate, would -he not be blameworthy? It is well known that at the coronation of kings and -queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for -their functions is gone through. There is a saltcellar of state, so called, -and there may be a caster of state. How they use the salt, precisely who -knows? Certain I am, however, that a king's head is solemnly oiled at his -coronation, even as a head of salad. Can it be, though, that they anoint it -with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint machinery? Much -might be ruminated here, concerning the essential dignity of this regal -process, because in common life we esteem but meanly and contemptibly a -fellow who anoints his hair, and palpably smells of that anointing. In truth, -a mature man who uses hairoil, unless medicinally, that man has probably got -a quoggy spot in him somewhere. As a general rule, he can't amount to much in -his totality. But the only thing to be considered here, is this what kind -of oil is used at coronations? Certainly it cannot be olive oil, nor macassar -oil, nor castor oil, nor bear's oil, nor train oil, nor codliver oil. What -then can it possibly be, but sperm oil in its unmanufactured, unpolluted -state, the sweetest of all oils? Think of that, ye loyal Britons we -whalemen supply your kings and queens with coronation stuff -The chief mate of the Pequod was -Starbuck, a native of Nantucket, and a Quaker by descent. He was a long, -earnest man, and though born on an icy coast, seemed well adapted to endure -hot latitudes, his flesh being hard as twicebaked biscuit. Transported to -the Indies, his live blood would not spoil like bottled -ale. He must have been born in some time of general drought and famine, or -upon one of those fast days for which his state is famous. Only some thirty -arid summers had he seen those summers had dried up all his physical -superfluousness. But this, his thinness, so to speak, seemed no more the -token of wasting anxieties and cares, than it seemed the indication of any -bodily blight. It was merely the condensation of the man. He was by no -means illlooking quite the contrary. His pure tight skin was an excellent -fit and closely wrapped up in it, and embalmed with inner health and -strength, like a revivified Egyptian, this Starbuck seemed prepared to endure -for long ages to come, and to endure always, as now for be it Polar snow or -torrid sun, like a patent chronometer, his interior vitality was warranted to -do well in all climates. Looking into his eyes, you seemed to see there the -yet lingering images of those thousandfold perils he had calmly confronted -through life. A staid, steadfast man, whose life for the most part was a -telling pantomime of action, and not a tame chapter of sounds. Yet, for all -his hardy sobriety and fortitude, there were certain qualities in him which -at times affected, and in some cases seemed well nigh to overbalance all the -rest. Uncommonly conscientious for a seaman, and endued with a deep natural -reverence, the wild watery loneliness of his life did therefore strongly -incline him to superstition but to that sort of superstition, which in some -organizations seems rather to spring, somehow, from intelligence than from -ignorance. Outward portents and inward presentiments were his. And if at -times these things bent the welded iron of his soul, much more did his -faraway domestic memories of his young Cape wife and child, tend to bend him -still more from the original ruggedness of his nature, and open him still -further to those latent influences which, in some honesthearted men, -restrain the gush of daredevil daring, so often evinced by others in the more -perilous vicissitudes of the fishery. I will have no man in my boat, said -starbuck, who is not afraid of a whale. by this, he seemed to mean, not only -that the most reliable and useful courage was that which arises from the fair -estimation of the encountered peril, but that an utterly fearless man is a -far more dangerous comrade than a coward. -Aye, aye, said Stubb, the second mate, Starbuck, there, is as careful a -man as you'll find anywhere in this fishery. But we shall ere long see what -that word careful precisely means when used by a man like Stubb, or almost -any other whale hunter. Starbuck was no crusader after perils in him -courage was not a sentiment but a thing simply useful to him, and always -at hand upon all mortally practical occasions. Besides, he thought, perhaps, -that in this business of whaling, courage was one of the great staple outfits -of the ship, like her beef and her bread, and not to be foolishly wasted. -Wherefore he had no fancy for lowering for whales after sundown nor for -persisting in fighting a fish that too much persisted in fighting him. For, -thought Starbuck, I am here in this critical ocean to kill whales for my -living, and not to be killed by them for theirs and that hundreds of men had -been so killed Starbuck well knew. What doom was his own father's? Where, in -the bottomless deeps, could he find the torn limbs of his brother? With -memories like these in him, and, moreover, given to a certain -superstitiousness, as has been said the courage of this Starbuck which -could, nevertheless, still flourish, must indeed have been extreme. But it -was not in reasonable nature that a man so organized, and with such terrible -experiences and remembrances as he had it was not in nature that these -things should fail in latently engendering an element in him, which, under -suitable circumstances, would break out from its confinement, and burn all his -courage up. And brave as he might be, it was that sort of bravery chiefly, -visible in some intrepid men, which, while generally abiding firm in the -conflict with seas, or winds, or whales, or any of the ordinary irrational -horrors of the world, yet cannot withstand those more terrific, because more -spiritual terrors, which sometimes menace you from the concentrating brow of -an enraged and mighty man. But were the coming narrative to reveal, in any -instance, the complete abasement of poor Starbuck's fortitude, scarce might I -have the heart to write it for it is a thing most sorrowful, nay shocking, -to expose the fall of valor in the soul. Men may seem detestable as joint -stockcompanies and nations knaves, -fools, and murderers there may be men may have mean and meagre faces but -man, in the ideal, is so noble and so sparkling, such a grand and glowing -creature, that over any ignominious blemish in him all his fellows should run -to throw their costliest robes. That immaculate manliness we feel within -ourselves, so far within us, that it remains intact though all the outer -character seem gone bleeds with keenest anguish at the undraped spectacle -of a valorruined man. Nor can piety itself, at such a shameful sight, -completely stifle her upbraidings against the permitting stars. But this -august dignity I treat of, is not the dignity of kings and robes, but that -abounding dignity which has no robed investiture. Thou shalt see it shining -in the arm that wields a pick or drives a spike that democratic dignity -which, on all hands, radiates without end from God Himself The great God -absolute The centre and circumference of all democracy His omnipresence, -our divine equality If, then, to meanest mariners, and renegades and -castaways, I shall hereafter ascribe high qualities, though dark weave round -them tragic graces if even the most mournful, perchance the most abased, -among them all, shall at times lift himself to the exalted mounts if I shall -touch that workman's arm with some ethereal light if I shall spread a -rainbow over his disastrous set of sun then against all mortal critics bear -me out in it, thou just spirit of equality, which hast spread one royal -mantle of humanity over all my kind Bear me out in it, thou great democratic -God who didst not refuse to the swart convict, Bunyan, the pale, poetic -pearl Thou who didst clothe with doubly hammered leaves of finest gold, the -stumped and paupered arm of old Cervantes Thou who didst pick up Andrew -Jackson from the pebbles who didst hurl him upon a warhorse who didst -thunder him higher than a throne Thou who, in all Thy mighty, earthly -marchings, ever cullest Thy selectest champions from the kingly commons bear -me out in it, O God -Stubb was the second mate. He -was a native of Cape Cod and hence, according to local usage, was called a -CapeCodman. A happygolucky neither craven nor valiant taking perils as -they came with an indifferent air and while engaged in the most imminent -crisis of the chase, toiling away, calm and collected as a journeyman joiner -engaged for the year. Goodhumored, easy, and careless, he presided over his -whaleboat as if the most deadly encounter were but a dinner, and his crew -all invited guests. He was as particular about the comfortable arrangement of -his part of the boat, as an old stagedriver is about the snugness of his box. -When close to the whale, in the very deathlock of the fight, he handled his -unpitying lance coolly and offhandedly, as a whistling tinker his hammer. -He would hum over his old rigadig tunes while flank and flank with the most -exasperated monster. Long usage had, for this Stubb, converted the jaws of -death into an easy chair. What he thought of death itself, there is no -telling. Whether he ever thought of it at all, might be a question but, if -he ever did chance to cast his mind that way after a comfortable dinner, no -doubt, like a good sailor, he took it to be a sort of call of the watch to -tumble aloft, and bestir themselves there, about something which he would find -out when he obeyed the order, and not sooner. What, perhaps, with other -things, made Stubb such an easygoing, unfearing man, so cheerily trudging off -with the burden of life in a world full of grave peddlers, all bowed to the -ground with their packs what helped to bring about that almost impious -goodhumor of his that thing must have been his pipe. For, like his nose, -his short, black little pipe was one of the regular features of his face. You -would almost as soon have expected him to turn out of his bunk without his -nose as without his pipe. -He kept a whole row of pipes there ready loaded, stuck in a rack, within easy -reach of his hand and, whenever he turned in, he smoked them all out in -succession, lighting one from the other to the end of the chapter then -loading them again to be in readiness anew. For, when Stubb dressed, instead -of first putting his legs into his trowsers, he put his pipe into his mouth. -I say this continual smoking must have been one cause, at least, of his -peculiar disposition for every one knows that this earthly air, whether -ashore or afloat, is terribly infected with the nameless miseries of the -numberless mortals who have died exhaling it and as in time of the cholera, -some people go about with a camphorated handkerchief to their mouths so, -likewise, against all mortal tribulations, Stubb's tobacco smoke might have -operated as a sort of disinfecting agent. The third mate was Flask, a native -of Tisbury, in Martha's Vineyard. A short, stout, ruddy young fellow, very -pugnacious concerning whales, who somehow seemed to think that the great -Leviathans had personally and hereditarily affronted him and therefore it -was a sort of point of honor with him, to destroy them whenever encountered. -So utterly lost was he to all sense of reverence for the many marvels of their -majestic bulk and mystic ways and so dead to anything like an apprehension -of any possible danger from encountering them that in his poor opinion, the -wondrous whale was but a species of magnified mouse, or at least waterrat, -requiring only a little circumvention and some small application of time and -trouble in order to kill and boil. This ignorant, unconscious fearlessness of -his made him a little waggish in the matter of whales he followed these -fish for the fun of it and a three years' voyage round Cape Horn was only a -jolly joke that lasted that length of time. As a carpenter's nails are -divided into wrought nails and cut nails so mankind may be similarly divided. -Little Flask was one of the wrought ones made to clinch tight and last -long. They called him KingPost on board of the Pequod because, in form, -he could be well likened to the short, square timber known by that name in -Arctic whalers and which by the means of many radiating side timbers -inserted in it, served to brace the ship against the icy concussions of those -battering seas. Now these three mates Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask, were -momentous men. They it was who by universal prescription commanded three of -the Pequod's boats as headsmen. In that grand order of battle in which -Captain Ahab would probably marshal his forces to descend on the whales, -these three headsmen were as captains of companies. Or, being armed with -their long keen whaling spears, they were as a picked trio of lancers even -as the harpooneers were flingers of javelins. And since in this famous -fishery, each mate or headsman, like a Gothic Knight of old, is always -accompanied by his boatsteerer or harpooneer, who in certain conjunctures -provides him with a fresh lance, when the former one has been badly twisted, -or elbowed in the assault and moreover, as there generally subsists between -the two, a close intimacy and friendliness it is therefore but meet, that in -this place we set down who the Pequod's harpooneers were, and to what -headsman each of them belonged. first of all was queequeg, whom Starbuck, the -chief mate, had selected for his squire. But Queequeg is already known. Next -was Tashtego, an unmixed Indian from Gay Head, the most westerly promontory of -Martha's Vineyard, where there still exists the last remnant of a village of -red men, which has long supplied the neighboring island of Nantucket with -many of her most daring harpooneers. In the fishery, they usually go by the -generic name of GayHeaders. Tashtego's long, lean, sable hair, his high -cheek bones, and black rounding eyes for an Indian, Oriental in their -largeness, but Antarctic in their glittering expression all this -sufficiently proclaimed him an inheritor of the unvitiated blood of those -proud warrior hunters, who, in quest of the great New England moose, had -scoured, bow in hand, the aboriginal forests of the main. But no longer -snuffing in the trail of the wild beasts of the woodland, Tashtego now -hunted in the wake of the great whales of the sea the unerring harpoon of -the son fitly replacing the infallible arrow of the sires. To look at the -tawny brawn of his lithe snaky limbs, you would almost have credited the -superstitions of some of the earlier Puritans, and half believed this wild -Indian to be a son of the Prince of the Powers of the Air. Tashtego was Stubb -the second mate's squire. Third among the harpooneers was Daggoo, a gigantic, -coalblack -negrosavage, with a lionlike tread an Ahasuerus to behold. Suspended from -his ears were two golden hoops, so large that the sailors called them -ringbolts, and would talk of securing the topsail halyards to them. In his -youth Daggoo had voluntarily shipped on board of a whaler, lying in a lonely -bay on his native coast. And never having been anywhere in the world but in -Africa, Nantucket, and the pagan harbors most frequented by whalemen and -having now led for many years the bold life of the fishery in the ships of -owners uncommonly heedful of what manner of men they shipped daggoo retained -all his barbaric virtues, and erect as a giraffe, moved about the decks in -all the pomp of six feet five in his socks. There was a corporeal humility -in looking up at him and a white man standing before him seemed a white flag -come to beg truce of a fortress. Curious to tell, this imperial negro, -Ahasuerus Daggoo, was the Squire of little Flask, who looked like a chessman -beside him. As for the residue of the Pequod's company, be it said, that at -the present day not one in two of the many thousand men before the mast -employed in the American whale fishery, are Americans born, though pretty -nearly all the officers are. Herein it is the same with the American whale -fishery as with the American army and military and merchant navies, and the -engineering forces employed in the construction of the American Canals and -Railroads. The same, I say, because in all these cases the native American -liberally provides the brains, the rest of the world as generously supplying -the muscles. No small number of these whaling seamen belong to the Azores, -where the outward bound Nantucket whalers frequently touch to augment their -crews from the hardy peasants of those rocky shores. In like manner, the -Greenland whalers sailing out of Hull or London, put in at the Shetland -Islands, to receive the full complement of their crew. Upon the passage -homewards, they drop them there again. How it is, there is no telling, but -Islanders seem to make the best whalemen. They were nearly all Islanders in -the Pequod, Isolatoes too, I call such, not acknowledging the common -continent of men, but each Isolato living on a separate continent of his -own. Yet now, federated along one keel, what a set these Isolatoes were An -Anacharsis Clootz deputation from all the -isles of the sea, and all the ends of the earth, accompanying Old Ahab in the -pequod to lay the world's grievances before that bar from which not very many -of them ever come back. Black Little Pip he never did oh, no he went -before. Poor Alabama boy On the grim Pequod's forecastle, ye shall ere -long see him, beating his tambourine prelusive of the eternal time, when -sent for, to the great quarterdeck on high, he was bid strike in with -angels, and beat his tambourine in glory called a coward here, hailed a -hero there -For several days after leaving Nantucket, -nothing above hatches was seen of Captain Ahab. The mates regularly relieved -each other at the watches, and for aught that could be seen to the contrary, -they seemed to be the only commanders of the ship only they sometimes issued -from the cabin with orders so sudden and peremptory, that after all it was -plain they but commanded vicariously. Yes, their supreme lord and dictator -was there, though hitherto unseen by any eyes not permitted to penetrate into -the now sacred retreat of the cabin. Every time I ascended to the deck from my -watches below, I instantly gazed aft to mark if any strange face were -visible for my first vague disquietude touching the unknown captain, now in -the seclusion of the sea, became almost a perturbation. This was strangely -heightened at times by the ragged Elijah's diabolical incoherences uninvitedly -recurring to me, with a subtle energy I could not have before conceived of. -But poorly could I withstand them, much as in other moods I was almost ready -to smile at the solemn whimsicalities of that outlandish prophet of the -wharves. But whatever it was of apprehensiveness or uneasiness to call it so -which I felt, yet whenever I came to look about me in the ship, it seemed -against all warrantry to -cherish such emotions. For though the harpooneers, with the great body of -the crew, were a far more barbaric, heathenish, and motley set than any of the -tame merchantship companies which my previous experiences had made me -acquainted with, still I ascribed this and rightly ascribed it to the -fierce uniqueness of the very nature of that wild Scandinavian vocation in -which I had so abandonedly embarked. But it was especially the aspect of the -three chief officers of the ship, the mates, which was most forcibly -calculated to allay these colorless misgivings, and induce confidence and -cheerfulness in every presentment of the voyage. Three better, more likely -seaofficers and men, each in his own different way, could not readily be -found, and they were every one of them Americans a Nantucketer, a -Vineyarder, a Cape man. Now, it being Christmas when the ship shot from out -her harbor, for a space we had biting Polar weather, though all the time -running away from it to the southward and by every degree and minute of -latitude which we sailed, gradually leaving that merciless winter, and all -its intolerable weather behind us. It was one of those less lowering, but -still grey and gloomy enough mornings of the transition, when with a fair wind -the ship was rushing through the water with a vindictive sort of leaping and -melancholy rapidity, that as I mounted to the deck at the call of the forenoon -watch, so soon as I levelled my glance towards the taffrail, foreboding -shivers ran over me. Reality outran apprehension Captain Ahab stood upon -his quarterdeck. There seemed no sign of common bodily illness about him, -nor of the recovery from any. He looked like a man cut away from the stake, -when the fire has overrunningly wasted all the limbs without consuming them, -or taking away one particle from their compacted aged robustness. His whole -high, broad form, seemed made of solid bronze, and shaped in an unalterable -mould, like Cellini's cast Perseus. Threading its way out from among his grey -hairs, and continuing right down one side of his tawny scorched face and neck, -till it disappeared in his clothing, you saw a slender rodlike mark, lividly -whitish. It resembled that perpendicular seam sometimes made in the -straight, lofty trunk of a great tree, when the upper lightning -tearingly darts down it, and without wrenching a single twig, peels and -grooves out the bark from top to bottom, ere running off into the soil, -leaving the tree still greenly alive, but branded. Whether that mark was born -with him, or whether it was the scar left by some desperate wound, no one -could certainly say. By some tacit consent, throughout the voyage little or no -allusion was made to it, especially by the mates. But once Tashtego's -senior, an old GayHead Indian among the crew, superstitiously asserted that -not till he was full forty years old did Ahab become that way branded, and -then it came upon him, not in the fury of any mortal fray, but in an -elemental strife at sea. Yet, this wild hint seemed inferentially negatived, -by what a grey Manxman insinuated, an old sepulchral man, who, having never -before sailed out of Nantucket, had never ere this laid eye upon wild Ahab. -Nevertheless, the old seatraditions, the immemorial credulities, popularly -invested this old Manxman with preternatural powers of discernment. So that -no white sailor seriously contradicted him when he said that if ever Captain -Ahab should be tranquilly laid out which might hardly come to pass, so he -muttered then, whoever should do that last office for the dead, would find a -birthmark on him from crown to sole. So powerfully did the whole grim aspect -of Ahab affect me, and the livid brand which streaked it, that for the first -few moments I hardly noted that not a little of this overbearing grimness was -owing to the barbaric white leg upon which he partly stood. It had previously -come to me that this ivory leg had at sea been fashioned from the polished -bone of the sperm whale's jaw. Aye, he was dismasted off Japan, said the -old GayHead Indian once but like his dismasted craft, he shipped another -mast without coming home for it. he has a quiver of 'em. I was struck with -the singular posture he maintained. Upon each side of the Pequod's quarter -deck, and pretty close to the mizen shrouds, there was an auger hole, bored -about half an inch or so, into the plank. His bone leg steadied in that hole -one arm elevated, and holding by a shroud Captain Ahab stood erect, looking -straight out beyond the ship's everpitching prow. There was an infinity of -firmest fortitude, a determinate unsurrenderable -wilfulness, in the fixed and fearless, forward dedication of that glance. Not -a word he spoke nor did his officers say aught to him though by all their -minutest gestures and expressions, they plainly showed the uneasy, if not -painful, consciousness of being under a troubled mastereye. And not only -that, but moody stricken Ahab stood before them with a crucifixion in his -face in all the nameless regal overbearing dignity of some mighty woe. Ere -long, from his first visit in the air, he withdrew into his cabin. But after -that morning, he was every day visible to the crew either standing in his -pivothole, or seated upon an ivory stool he had or heavily walking the -deck. As the sky grew less gloomy indeed, began to grow a little genial, he -became still less and less a recluse as if, when the ship had sailed from -home, nothing but the dead wintry bleakness of the sea had then kept him so -secluded. And, by and by, it came to pass, that he was almost continually in -the air but, as yet, for all that he said, or perceptibly did, on the at -last sunny deck, he seemed as unnecessary there as another mast. But the -Pequod was only making a passage now not regularly cruising nearly all -whaling preparatives needing supervision the mates were fully competent to, -so that there was little or nothing, out of himself, to employ or excite Ahab, -now and thus chase away, for that one interval, the clouds that layer upon -layer were piled upon his brow, as ever all clouds choose the loftiest peaks -to pile themselves upon. Nevertheless, ere long, the warm, warbling -persuasiveness of the pleasant, holiday weather we came to, seemed gradually -to charm him from his mood. For, as when the redcheeked, dancing girls, -April and May, trip home to the wintry, misanthropic woods even the barest, -ruggedest, most thundercloven old oak will at least send forth some few green -sprouts, to welcome such gladhearted visitants so Ahab did, in the end, a -little respond to the playful allurings of that girlish air. More than once -did he put forth the faint blossom of a look, which, in any other man, would -have soon flowered out in a smile. -Some days elapsed, and ice -and icebergs all astern, the Pequod now went rolling through the bright Quito -spring, which, at sea, almost perpetually reigns on the threshold of the -eternal August of the Tropic. The warmly cool, clear, ringing, perfumed, -overflowing, redundant days, were as crystal goblets of Persian sherbet, -heaped up flaked up, with rosewater snow. The starred and stately nights -seemed haughty dames in jewelled velvets, nursing at home in lonely pride, the -memory of their absent conquering Earls, the golden helmeted suns For -sleeping man, 'twas hard to choose between such winsome days and such -seducing nights. But all the witcheries of that unwaning weather did not -merely lend new spells and potencies to the outward world. Inward they turned -upon the soul, especially when the still mild hours of eve came on then, -memory shot her crystals as the clear ice most forms of noiseless twilights. -And all these subtle agencies, more and more they wrought on Ahab's texture. -Old age is always wakeful as if, the longer linked with life, the less man -has to do with aught that looks like death. among seacommanders, the old -greybeards will oftenest leave their berths to visit the nightcloaked deck. -It was so with Ahab only that now, of late, he seemed so much to live in -the open air, that truly speaking, his visits were more to the cabin, than -from, the cabin to the planks. It feels like going down into one's tomb, -he would mutter to himself, for an old captain like me to be descending -this narrow scuttle, to go to my gravedug berth. So, almost every -twentyfour hours, when the watches of the night were set, and the band on -deck sentinelled the slumbers of the band below and when if a rope was to be -hauled upon the forecastle, the sailors flung it not rudely down, as by day, -but with some cautiousness dropt it to its place, for fear of disturbing -their slumbering shipmates when this sort of steady quietude would begin to -prevail, habitually, the silent steersman would watch the cabinscuttle and -ere long the old man would emerge, griping at the iron banister, to help his -crippled way. Some considerating touch of humanity was in him for at times -like these, he usually abstained from patrolling the quarterdeck because to -his wearied mates, seeking repose within six inches of his ivory heel, such -would have been the reverberating crack and din of that bony step, that their -dreams would have been of the crunching teeth of sharks. But once, the mood -was on him too deep for common regardings and as with heavy, lumberlike -pace he was measuring the ship from taffrail to mainmast, Stubb, the odd -second mate, came up from below, and with a certain unassured, deprecating -humorousness, hinted that if Captain Ahab was pleased to walk the planks, -then, no one could say nay but there might be some way of muffling the -noise hinting something indistinctly and hesitatingly about a globe of tow, -and the insertion into it, of the ivory heel. Ah Stubb, thou did'st not -know Ahab then. Am I a cannonball, Stubb, said Ahab, that thou wouldst -wad me that fashion? But go thy ways I had forgot. Below to thy nightly -grave where such as ye sleep between shrouds, to use ye to the filling one -at last. Down, dog, and kennel Starting at the unforeseen concluding -exclamation of the so suddenly scornful old man, Stubb was speechless a -moment then said excitedly, I am not used to be spoken to that way, sir -I do but less than half like it, sir. Avast gritted Ahab between his set -teeth, and violently moving away, as if to avoid some passionate temptation. -No, sir not yet, said Stubb, emboldened, I will not tamely be called a -dog, sir. Then be called ten times a donkey, and a mule, and an ass, and -begone, or I'll clear the world of thee As he said this, Ahab advanced upon -him with such overbearing terrors in his aspect, that Stubb involuntarily -retreated. I was never served so before without giving a hard blow for it, -muttered Stubb, as he found himself descending the cabinscuttle. -It's very queer. Stop, Stubb somehow, now, I don't well know whether to go -back and strike him, or what's that? down here on my knees and pray for -him? Yes, that was the thought coming up in me but it would be the first -time I ever did pray. It's queer very queer and he's queer too aye, -take him fore and aft, he's about the queerest old man Stubb ever sailed -with. How he flashed at me his eyes like powderpans is he mad? Anyway -there's something on his mind, as sure as there must be something on a deck -when it cracks. He aint in his bed now, either, more than three hours out of -the twentyfour and he don't sleep then. Didn't that DoughBoy, the -steward, tell me that of a morning he always finds the old man's hammock -clothes all rumpled and tumbled, and the sheets down at the foot, and the -coverlid almost tied into knots, and the pillow a sort of frightful hot, as -though a baked brick had been on it? A hot old man I guess he's got what -some folks ashore call a conscience it's a kind of TicDollyrow they say -worse nor a toothache. Well, well I don't know what it is, but the Lord -keep me from catching it. He's full of riddles I wonder what he goes into -the after hold for, every night, as DoughBoy tells me he suspects what's -that for, I should like to know? Who's made appointments with him in the hold? -Ain't that queer, now? But there's no telling, it's the old game Here goes -for a snooze. Damn me, it's worth a fellow's while to be born into the -world, if only to fall right asleep. And now that I think of it, that's -about the first thing babies do, and that's a sort of queer, too. Damn me, -but all things are queer, come to think of 'em. But that's against my -principles. Think not, is my eleventh commandment and sleep when you can, -is my twelfth So here goes again. But how's that? didn't he call me a dog? -blazes he called me ten times a donkey, and piled a lot of jackasses on -top of that He might as well have kicked me, and done with it. Maybe he -did kick me, and I didn't observe it, I was so taken all aback with his brow, -somehow. It flashed like a bleached bone. What the devil's the matter with -me? I don't stand right on my legs. Coming afoul of that old man has a sort -of turned me wrong side out. By the Lord, I must have been dreaming, though -How? how? how? but the only way's -to stash it so here goes to hammock again and in the morning, I'll see how -this plaguey juggling thinks over by daylight. -Entering that gableended SpouterInn, -you found yourself in a wide, low, straggling entry with oldfashioned -wainscots, reminding one of the bulwarks of some condemned old craft. On one -side hung a very large oilpainting so thoroughly besmoked, and every way -defaced, that in the unequal crosslights by which you viewed it, it was -only by diligent study and a series of systematic visits to it, and careful -inquiry of the neighbors, that you could any way arrive at an understanding -of its purpose. such unaccountable masses of shades and shadows, that at -first you almost thought some ambitious young artist, in the time of the New -England hags, had endeavored to delineate chaos bewitched. But by dint of -much and earnest contemplation, and oft repeated ponderings, and especially by -throwing open the little window towards the back of the entry, you at last -come to the conclusion that such an idea, however wild, might not be -altogether unwarranted. But what most puzzled and confounded you was a long, -limber, portentous, black mass of something hovering in the -centre of the picture over three blue, dim, perpendicular lines floating in a -nameless yeast. A boggy, soggy, squitchy picture truly, enough to drive a -nervous man distracted. Yet was there a sort of indefinite, halfattained, -unimaginable sublimity about it that fairly froze you to it, till you -involuntarily took an oath with yourself to find out what that marvellous -painting meant. Ever and anon a bright, but, alas, deceptive idea would dart -you through. It's the Black Sea in a midnight gale. It's the unnatural -combat of the four primal elements. It's a blasted heath. It's a Hyperborean -winter scene. It's the breakingup of the icebound stream of Time. But at -last all these fancies yielded to that one portentous something in the -picture's midst. That once found out, and all the rest were plain. But stop -does it not bear a faint resemblance to a gigantic fish? even the great -leviathan himself? In fact, the artist's design seemed this a final theory -of my own, partly based upon the aggregated opinions of many aged persons -with whom I conversed upon the subject. The picture represents a CapeHorner -in a great hurricane the halffoundered ship weltering there with its three -dismantled masts alone visible and an exasperated whale, purposing to spring -clean over the craft, is in the enormous act of impaling himself upon the -three mastheads. The opposite wall of this entry was hung all over with a -heathenish array of monstrous clubs and spears. Some were thickly set with -glittering teeth resembling ivory saws others were tufted with knots of -human hair and one was sickleshaped, with a vast handle sweeping round like -the segment made in the newmown grass by a longarmed mower. You shuddered -as you gazed, and wondered what monstrous cannibal and savage could ever have -gone a deathharvesting with such a hacking, horrifying implement. Mixed with -these were rusty old whaling lances and harpoons all broken and deformed. -Some were storied weapons. With this once long lance, now wildly elbowed, -fifty years ago did Nathan Swain kill fifteen whales between a sunrise and a -sunset. And that harpoonso like a corkscrew nowwas flung in Javan seas, -and run away with by a whale, years afterward slain off the Cape of Blanco. -The original iron entered -nigh the tail, and, like a restless needle sojourning in the body of a man, -travelled full forty feet, and at last was found imbedded in the hump. -Crossing this dusky entry, and on through yon lowarched way cut through -what in old times must have been a great central chimney with fireplaces all -round you enter the public room. A still duskier place is this, with such -low ponderous beams above, and such old wrinkled planks beneath, that you -would almost fancy you trod some old craft's cockpits, especially of such a -howling night, when this corneranchored old ark rocked so furiously. On one -side stood a long, low, shelflike table covered with cracked glass cases, -filled with dusty rarities gathered from this wide world's remotest nooks. -Projecting from the further angle of the room stands a darklooking den the -bar a rude attempt at a right whale's head. Be that how it may, there -stands the vast arched bone of the whale's jaw, so wide, a coach might -almost drive beneath it. within are shabby shelves, ranged round with old -decanters, bottles, flasks and in those jaws of swift destruction, like -another cursed Jonah by which name indeed they called him, bustles a -little withered old man, who, for their money, dearly sells the sailors -deliriums and death. Abominable are the tumblers into which he pours his -poison. Though true cylinders without within, the villanous green goggling -glasses deceitfully tapered downwards to a cheating bottom. Parallel -meridians rudely pecked into the glass, surround these footpads' goblets. -Fill to this mark, and your charge is but a penny to this a penny more -and so on to the full glass the Cape Horn measure, which you may gulp down -for a shilling. Upon entering the place I found a number of young seamen -gathered about a table, examining by a dim light divers specimens of -skrimshander. I sought the landlord, and telling him I desired to be -accommodated with a room, received for answer that his house was full not a -bed unoccupied. But avast, he added, tapping his forehead, you haint no -objections to sharing a harpooneer's blanket, have ye? I s'pose you are goin' -a whalin', so you'd better get used to that sort of thing. -I told him that I never liked to sleep two in a bed that if I should ever do -so, it would depend upon who the harpooneer might be, and that if he the -landlord really had no other place for me, and the harpooneer was not -decidedly objectionable, why rather than wander further about a strange town -on so bitter a night, I would put up with the half of any decent man's -blanket. I thought so. All right take a seat. Supper? you want supper? -Supper 'll be ready directly. I sat down on an old wooden settle, carved all -over like a bench on the Battery. At one end a ruminating tar was still -further adorning it with his jackknife, stooping over and diligently working -away at the space between his legs. he was trying his hand at a ship under -full sail, but he didn't make much headway, I thought. At last some four or -five of us were summoned to our meal in an adjoining room. It was cold as -Iceland no fire at all the landlord said he couldn't afford it. Nothing -but two dismal tallow candles, each in a winding sheet. We were fain to -button up our monkey jackets, and hold to our lips cups of scalding tea with -our half frozen fingers. But the fare was of the most substantial kind not -only meat and potatoes, but dumplings good heavens dumplings for supper -One young fellow in a green box coat, addressed himself to these dumplings in -a most direful manner. My boy, said the landlord, you'll have the -nightmare to a dead sartainty. Landlord, I whispered, that aint the -harpooneer, is it? Oh, no, said he, looking a sort of diabolically funny, -the harpooneer is a dark complexioned chap. He never eats dumplings, he -don'the eats nothing but steaks, and likes 'em rare. The devil he does, -says I. Where is that harpooneer? Is he here? He'll be here afore long, -was the answer. I could not help it, but I began to feel suspicious of this -dark complexioned harpooneer. At any rate, I made up my mind that if it -so turned out that we should sleep together, he must undress and get into bed -before I did. -Supper over, the company went back to the barroom, when, knowing not what -else to do with myself, I resolved to spend the rest of the evening as a -looker on. Presently a rioting noise was heard without. Starting up, the -landlord cried, That's the Grampus's crew. I seed her reported in the -offing this morning a three years' voyage, and a full ship. Hurrah, boys -now we'll have the latest news from the Feegees. A tramping of sea boots was -heard in the entry the door was flung open, and in rolled a wild set of -mariners enough. Enveloped in their shaggy watch coats, and with their -heads muffled in woollen comforters, all bedarned and ragged, and their -beards stiff with icicles, they seemed an eruption of bears from Labrador. -They had just landed from their boat, and this was the first house they -entered. No wonder, then, that they made a straight wake for the whale's -mouth the bar when the wrinkled little old Jonah, there officiating, soon -poured them out brimmers all round. One complained of a bad cold in his head, -upon which Jonah mixed him a pitchlike potion of gin and molasses, which -he swore was a sovereign cure for all colds and catarrhs whatsoever, never -mind of how long standing, or whether caught off the coast of Labrador, or -on the weather side of an iceisland. The liquor soon mounted into their -heads, as it generally does even with the arrantest topers newly landed from -sea, and they began capering about most obstreperously. I observed, however, -that one of them held somewhat aloof, and though he seemed desirous not to -spoil the hilarity of his shipmates by his own sober face, yet upon the whole -he refrained from making as much noise as the rest. This man interested me -at once and since the seagods had ordained that he should soon become my -shipmate though but a sleepingpartner one, so far as this narrative is -concerned, I will here venture upon a little description of him. He stood -full six feet in height, with noble shoulders, and a chest like a -cofferdam. I have seldom seen such brawn in a man. His face was deeply -brown and burnt, making his white teeth dazzling by the contrast while in -the deep shadows of his eyes floated some reminiscences that did not seem to -give him much joy. His voice at once announced -that he was a Southerner, and from his fine stature, I thought he must be -one of those tall mountaineers from the Alleganian Ridge in Virginia. When -the revelry of his companions had mounted to its height, this man slipped -away unobserved, and I saw no more of him till he became my comrade on the -sea. In a few minutes, however, he was missed by his shipmates, and being, -it seems, for some reason a huge favorite with them, they raised a cry of -Bulkington Bulkington where's Bulkington? and darted out of the house in -pursuit of him. It was now about nine o'clock, and the room seeming almost -supernaturally quiet after these orgies, I began to congratulate myself upon -a little plan that had occurred to me just previous to the entrance of the -seamen. No man prefers to sleep two in a bed. In fact, you would a good deal -rather not sleep with your own brother. I don't know how it is, but people -like to be private when they are sleeping. And when it comes to sleeping with -an unknown stranger, in a strange inn, in a strange town, and that stranger -a harpooneer, then your objections indefinitely multiply. Nor was there any -earthly reason why I as a sailor should sleep two in a bed, more than anybody -else for sailors no more sleep two in a bed at sea, than bachelor Kings do -ashore. To be sure they all sleep together in one apartment, but you have -your own hammock, and cover yourself with your own blanket, and sleep in your -own skin. The more I pondered over this harpooneer, the more I abominated -the thought of sleeping with him. It was fair to presume that being a -harpooneer, his linen or woollen, as the case might be, would not be of the -tidiest, certainly none of the finest. I began to twitch all over. Besides, -it was getting late, and my decent harpooneer ought to be home and going -bedwards. Suppose now, he should tumble in upon me at midnight how could I -tell from what vile hole he had been coming? Landlord I've changed my mind -about that harpooneer. I shan't sleep with him. I'll try the bench here. -just as you please i'm sorry i cant spare ye a tablecloth for a mattress, -and it's a plaguy rough board here feeling of the knots and notches. But -wait a bit, Skrimshander I've -got a carpenter's plane there in the bar wait, I say, and I'll make ye snug -enough. So saying he procured the plane and with his old silk handkerchief -first dusting the bench, vigorously set to planing away at my bed, the while -grinning like an ape. The shavings flew right and left till at last the -planeiron came bump against an indestructible knot. The landlord was near -spraining his wrist, and I told him for heaven's sake to quit the bed was -soft enough to suit me, and I did not know how all the planing in the world -could make eider down of a pine plank. So gathering up the shavings with -another grin, and throwing them into the great stove in the middle of the -room, he went about his business, and left me in a brown study. I now took -the measure of the bench, and found that it was a foot too short but that -could be mended with a chair. But it was a foot too narrow, and the other -bench in the room was about four inches higher than the planed one so there -was no yoking them. I then placed the first bench lengthwise along the only -clear space against the wall, leaving a little interval between, for my back -to settle down in. But I soon found that there came such a draught of cold -air over me from under the sill of the window, that this plan would never do -at all, especially as another current from the rickety door met the one from -the window, and both together formed a series of small whirlwinds in the -immediate vicinity of the spot where I had thought to spend the night. The -devil fetch that harpooneer, thought I, but stop, couldn't I steal a march on -him bolt his door inside, and jump into his bed, not to be wakened by the -most violent knockings? it seemed no bad idea but upon second thoughts I -dismissed it. For who could tell but what the next morning, so soon as I -popped out of the room, the harpooneer might be standing in the entry, all -ready to knock me down Still, looking around me again, and seeing no possible -chance of spending a sufferable night unless in some other person's bed, I -began to think that after all I might be cherishing unwarrantable prejudices -against this unknown harpooneer. Thinks I, I'll wait awhile he must be -dropping in before long. I'll have a good look at him then, and perhaps we -may become jolly good bedfellows after all there's no telling. -But though the other boarders kept coming in by ones, twos, and threes, and -going to bed, yet no sign of my harpooneer. Landlord said I, what sort of -a chap is he does he always keep such late hours? It was now hard upon -twelve o'clock. The landlord chuckled again with his lean chuckle, and -seemed to be mightily tickled at something beyond my comprehension. No, he -answered, generally he's an early bird airley to bed and airley to rise -yes, he's the bird what catches the worm. But tonight he went out a -peddling, you see, and I don't see what on airth keeps him so late, unless, -may be, he can't sell his head. Can't sell his head? What sort of a -bamboozingly story is this you are telling me? getting into a towering rage. -Do you pretend to say, landlord, that this harpooneer is actually engaged -this blessed Saturday night, or rather Sunday morning, in peddling his head -around this town? That's precisely it, said the landlord, and I told him -he couldn't sell it here, the market's overstocked. With what? shouted I. -With heads to be sure ain't there too many heads in the world? I tell -you what it is, landlord, said I, quite calmly, you'd better stop spinning -that yarn to me I'm not green. May be not, taking out a stick and -whittling a toothpick, but I rayther guess you'll be done brown if that ere -harpooneer hears you a slanderin' his head. I'll break it for him, said I, -now flying into a passion again at this unaccountable farrago of the -landlord's. It's broke a'ready, said he. Broke, said I broke, do you -mean? Sartain, and that's the very reason he can't sell it, I guess. -Landlord, said I, going up to him as cool as Mt. Hecla in a snow storm, -landlord, stop whittling. You and I must understand one another, and -that too without delay. I come to your house and want a bed you tell me you -can only give me half a one that the other half belongs to a certain -harpooneer. And about this harpooneer, whom I have not yet seen, you -persist in telling me the most mystifying and exasperating stories, tending -to beget in me an uncomfortable feeling towards the man whom -you design for my bedfellow a sort of connexion, landlord, which is an -intimate and confidential one in the highest degree. I now demand of you to -speak out and tell me who and what this harpooneer is, and whether I shall be -in all respects safe to spend the night with him. And in the first place, -you will be so good as to unsay that story about selling his head, which if -true I take to be good evidence that this harpooneer is stark mad, and I've -no idea of sleeping with a madman and you, sir, you I mean, landlord, you, -sir, by trying to induce me to do so knowingly, would thereby render yourself -liable to a criminal prosecution. Wall, said the landlord, fetching a long -breath, that's a purty long sarmon for a chap that rips a little now and -then. But be easy, be easy, this here harpooneer I have been tellin' you of -has just arrived from the south seas, where he bought up a lot of 'balmed New -Zealand heads great curios, you know, and he's sold all on 'em but one, -and that one he's trying to sell tonight, cause tomorrow's Sunday, and it -would not do to be sellin' human heads about the streets when folks is goin' -to churches. He wanted to, last Sunday, but I stopped him just as he was -goin' out of the door with four heads strung on a string, for all the airth -like a string of inions. This account cleared up the otherwise unaccountable -mystery, and showed that the landlord, after all, had had no idea of fooling -me but at the same time what could I think of a harpooneer who stayed out a -Saturday night clean into the holy Sabbath, engaged in such a cannibal -business as selling the heads of dead idolators? Depend upon it, landlord, -that harpooneer is a dangerous man. He pays reg'lar, was the rejoinder. -But come, it's getting dreadful late, you had better be turning flukes it's -a nice bed Sal and me slept in that ere bed the night we were spliced. -There's plenty room for two to kick about in that bed it's an almighty big -bed that. Why, afore we give it up, Sal used to put our Sam and little -Johnny in the foot of it. But I got a dreaming and sprawling about one night, -and somehow, Sam got pitched on the floor, and came near breaking his arm. -After -that, Sal said it wouldn't do. Come along here, I'll give ye a glim in a -jiffy and so saying he lighted a candle and held it towards me, offering to -lead the way. But I stood irresolute when looking at a clock in the corner, -he exclaimed I vum it's Sunday you won't see that harpooneer tonight he's -come to anchor somewhere come along then do come won't ye come? I -considered the matter a moment, and then up stairs we went, and I was -ushered into a small room, cold as a clam, and furnished, sure enough, with a -prodigious bed, almost big enough indeed for any four harpooneers to sleep -abreast. There, said the landlord, placing the candle on a crazy old sea -chest that did double duty as a washstand and centre table there, make -yourself comfortable now, and good night to ye. I turned round from eyeing -the bed, but he had disappeared. Folding back the counterpane, I stooped -over the bed. Though none of the most elegant, it yet stood the scrutiny -tolerably well. I then glanced round the room and besides the bedstead and -centre table, could see no other furniture belonging to the place, but a -rude shelf, the four walls, and a papered fireboard representing a man -striking a whale. Of things not properly belonging to the room, there was a -hammock lashed up, and thrown upon the floor in one corner also a large -seaman's bag, containing the harpooneer's wardrobe, no doubt in lieu of a -land trunk. Likewise, there was a parcel of outlandish bone fish hooks on the -shelf over the fireplace, and a tall harpoon standing at the head of the -bed. But what is this on the chest? I took it up, and held it close to the -light, and felt it, and smelt it, and tried every way possible to arrive at -some satisfactory conclusion concerning it. I can compare it to nothing but a -large door mat, ornamented at the edges with little tinkling tags something -like the stained porcupine quills round an Indian moccasin. There was a hole -or slit in the middle of this mat, as you see the same in South American -ponchos. But could it be possible that any sober harpooneer would get into -a door mat, and parade the streets of any Christian town in that sort of -guise? I put it on, to try it, and it weighed me down like a hamper, being -uncommonly shaggy and thick, and I thought a little damp, as though this -mysterious harpooneer had been wearing it of a rainy day. I went up in it to -a bit of glass stuck against the wall, and I never saw such a sight in my -life. I tore myself out of it in such a hurry that I gave myself a kink in -the neck. I sat down on the side of the bed, and commenced thinking about -this headpeddling harpooneer, and his door mat. After thinking some time on -the bedside, I got up and took off my monkey jacket, and then stood in the -middle of the room thinking. I then took off my coat, and thought a little -more in my shirt sleeves. But beginning to feel very cold now, half undressed -as I was, and remembering what the landlord said about the harpooneer's not -coming home at all that night, it being so very late, I made no more ado, -but jumped out of my pantaloons and boots, and then blowing out the light -tumbled into bed, and commended myself to the care of heaven. Whether that -mattress was stuffed with corncobs or broken crockery, there is no telling, -but I rolled about a good deal, and could not sleep for a long time. At -last I slid off into a light doze, and had pretty nearly made a good offing -towards the land of Nod, when I heard a heavy footfall in the passage, and -saw a glimmer of light come into the room from under the door. Lord save me, -thinks I, that must be the harpooneer, the infernal headpeddler. But I lay -perfectly still, and resolved not to say a word till spoken to. Holding a -light in one hand, and that identical New Zealand head in the other, the -stranger entered the room, and without looking towards the bed, placed his -candle a good way off from me on the floor in one corner, and then began -working away at the knotted cords of the large bag I before spoke of as being -in the room. I was all eagerness to see his face, but he kept it averted for -some time while employed in unlacing the bag's mouth. This accomplished, -however, he turned round when, good heavens what a sight Such a face It -was of a dark purplish, yellow color, here and there stuck over with large, -blackish looking squares. Yes, it's just as I thought, he's a terrible -bedfellow he's been in a fight, got dreadfully cut, and here he is, just -from the surgeon. But at that moment he chanced to turn his face so towards -the light, that I plainly saw they could not be stickingplasters at all, -those black squares on his cheeks. they were stains of some sort or other. At -first I knew not what to make of this but soon an inkling of the truth -occurred to me. I remembered a story of a white man a whaleman toowho, -falling among the cannibals, had been tattooed by them. I concluded that this -harpooneer, in the course of his distant voyages, must have met with a -similar adventure. And what is it, thought I, after all It's only his -outside a man can be honest in any sort of skin. But then, what to make of -his unearthly complexion, that part of it, I mean, lying round about, and -completely independent of the squares of tattooing. To be sure, it might be -nothing but a good coat of tropical tanning but I never heard of a hot sun's -tanning a white man into a purplish yellow one. However, I had never been -in the South Seas and perhaps the sun there produced these extraordinary -effects upon the skin. Now, while all these ideas were passing through me -like lightning, this harpooneer never noticed me at all. But, after some -difficulty having opened his bag, he commenced fumbling in it, and presently -pulled out a sort of tomahawk, and a sealskin wallet with the hair on. -Placing these on the old chest in the middle of the room, he then took the -New Zealand head a ghastly thing enough and crammed it down into the bag. -He now took off his hat a new beaver hat when I came nigh singing out with -fresh surprise. There was no hair on his head none to speak of at least -nothing but a small scalpknot twisted up on his forehead. His bald purplish -head now looked for all the world like a mildewed skull. Had not the stranger -stood between me and the door, I would have bolted out of it quicker than ever -I bolted a dinner. Even as it was, I thought something of slipping out of the -window, but it was the second floor back. I am no coward, but what to make -of this headpeddling purple rascal altogether passed my comprehension. -Ignorance is the parent of fear, and being completely nonplussed and -confounded about the stranger, i confess i was now as much afraid of him as if -it was the devil himself who had thus broken into my room at the dead of -night. In fact, I was so afraid of him that I was not game enough just then -to address him, and demand a satisfactory answer concerning what seemed -inexplicable in him. -Meanwhile, he continued the business of undressing, and at last showed his -chest and arms. As I live, these covered parts of him were checkered with -the same squares as his face his back, too, was all over the same dark -squares he seemed to have been in a Thirty Years' War, and just escaped from -it with a stickingplaster shirt. Still more, his very legs were marked, as -if a parcel of dark green frogs were running up the trunks of young palms. It -was now quite plain that he must be some abominable savage or other shipped -aboard of a whaleman in the South Seas, and so landed in this Christian -country. I quaked to think of it. A peddler of heads too perhaps the heads -of his own brothers. He might take a fancy to mine heavens look at that -tomahawk But there was no time for shuddering, for now the savage went about -something that completely fascinated my attention, and convinced me that he -must indeed be a heathen. Going to his heavy grego, or wrapall, or -dreadnaught, which he had previously hung on a chair, he fumbled in the -pockets, and produced at length a curious little deformed image with a hunch -on its back, and exactly the color of a three days' old Congo baby. -Remembering the embalmed head, at first I almost thought that this black -manikin was a real baby preserved in some similar manner. But seeing that it -was not at all limber, and that it glistened a good deal like polished ebony, -I concluded that it must be nothing but a wooden idol, which indeed it -proved to be. For now the savage goes up to the empty fireplace, and removing -the papered fireboard, sets up this little hunchbacked image, like a tenpin, -between the andirons. the chimney jambs and all the bricks inside were very -sooty, so that I thought this fireplace made a very appropriate little shrine -or chapel for his Congo idol. I now screwed my eyes hard towards the half -hidden image, feeling but ill at ease meantime to see what was next to -follow. First he takes about a double handful of shavings out of his grego -pocket, and places them carefully before the idol then laying a bit of ship -biscuit on top and applying the flame from the lamp, he kindled the shavings -into a sacrificial blaze. Presently, after many hasty snatches into the -fire, and still hastier -withdrawals of his fingers whereby he seemed to be scorching them badly, -he at last succeeded in drawing out the biscuit then blowing off the heat -and ashes a little, he made a polite offer of it to the little negro. But the -little devil did not seem to fancy such dry sort of fare at all he never -moved his lips. All these strange antics were accompanied by still stranger -guttural noises from the devotee, who seemed to be praying in a singsong or -else singing some pagan psalmody or other, during which his face twitched -about in the most unnatural manner. At last extinguishing the fire, he took -the idol up very unceremoniously, and bagged it again in his grego pocket -as carelessly as if he were a sportsman bagging a dead woodcock. All these -queer proceedings increased my uncomfortableness, and seeing him now -exhibiting strong symptoms of concluding his business operations, and jumping -into bed with me, I thought it was high time, now or never, before the light -was put out, to break the spell into which I had so long been bound. But the -interval I spent in deliberating what to say, was a fatal one. Taking up his -tomahawk from the table, he examined the head of it for an instant, and then -holding it to the light, with his mouth at the handle, he puffed out great -clouds of tobacco smoke. The next moment the light was extinguished, and -this wild cannibal, tomahawk between his teeth, sprang into bed with me. I -sang out, I could not help it now and giving a sudden grunt of astonishment -he began feeling me. Stammering out something, I knew not what, I rolled away -from him against the wall, and then conjured him, whoever or whatever he might -be, to keep quiet, and let me get up and light the lamp again. But his -guttural responses satisfied me at once that he but ill comprehended my -meaning. Whoe debel you? he at last said you no speake, damme, I -kille. And so saying the lighted tomahawk began flourishing about me in the -dark. Landlord, for God's sake, Peter Coffin shouted I. Landlord -Watch Coffin Angels save me Speake tellee me whoee be, or damme, -I kille again growled the cannibal, while his horrid flourishings of the -tomahawk scattered the hot tobacco ashes about me till I thought -my linen would get on fire. But thank heaven, at that moment the landlord -came into the room light in hand, and leaping from the bed I ran up to him. -Don't be afraid now, said he, grinning again. Queequeg here wouldn't harm -a hair of your head. Stop your grinning, shouted I, and why didn't you -tell me that that infernal harpooneer was a cannibal? I thought ye know'd -it didn't I tell ye, he was peddlin' heads around town? but turn flukes -again and go to sleep. Queequeg, look here you sabbee me, I sabbee you this -man sleepe you you sabbee? Me sabbee plenty grunted Queequeg, puffing -away at his pipe and sitting up in bed. You gettee in, he added, motioning -to me with his tomahawk, and throwing the clothes to one side. He really did -this in not only a civil but a really kind and charitable way. I stood -looking at him a moment. For all his tattooings he was on the whole a clean, -comely looking cannibal. What's all this fuss I have been making about, -thought i to myself the man's a human being just as I am he has just as -much reason to fear me, as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleep with a -sober cannibal than a drunken Christian. Landlord, said I, tell him to -stash his tomahawk there, or pipe, or whatever you call it tell him to -stop smoking, in short, and I will turn in with him. But I don't fancy having -a man smoking in bed with me. It's dangerous. Besides, I aint insured. -This being told to Queequeg, he at once complied, and again politely motioned -me to get into bed rolling over to one side as much as to say I wont touch a -leg of ye. Good night, landlord, said I, you may go. I turned in, and -never slept better in my life. -When Stubb had departed, Ahab stood for a -while leaning over the bulwarks and then, as had been usual with him of -late, calling a sailor of the watch, he sent him below for his ivory stool, -and also his pipe. lighting the pipe at the binnacle lamp and planting the -stool on the weather side of the deck, he sat and smoked. In old Norse times, -the thrones of the sealoving Danish kings were fabricated, saith tradition, -of the tusks of the narwhale. How could one look at Ahab then, seated on that -tripod of bones, without bethinking him of the royalty it symbolized? For a -Khan of the plank, and a king of the sea, and a great lord of Leviathans was -Ahab. Some moments passed, during which the thick vapor came from his mouth -in quick and constant puffs, which blew back again into his face. How now, -he soliloquized at last, withdrawing the tube, this smoking no longer -soothes. Oh, my pipe hard must it go with me if thy charm be gone Here -have I been unconsciously toiling, not pleasuring, aye, and ignorantly -smoking to windward all the while to windward, and with such nervous -whiffs, as if, like the dying whale, my final jets were the strongest and -fullest of trouble. What business have I with this pipe? This thing that is -meant for sereneness, to send up mild white vapors among mild white hairs, -not among torn irongrey locks like mine. I'll smoke no more He tossed the -still lighted pipe into the sea. The fire hissed in the waves the same -instant the ship shot by the bubble the sinking pipe made. With slouched hat, -Ahab lurchingly paced the planks. -Next morning Stubb accosted Flask. Such a -queer dream, KingPost, I never had. You know the old man's ivory leg, well -I dreamed he kicked me with it and when I tried to kick back, upon my soul, -my little man, I kicked my leg right off And then, presto Ahab seemed a -pyramid, and I, like a blazing fool, kept kicking at it. But what was still -more curious, Flaskyou know how curious all dreams are through all this rage -that I was in, I somehow seemed to be thinking to myself, that after all, it -was not much of an insult, that kick from ahab. "Why," thinks I,"what's the -row? It's not a real leg, only a false leg." And there's a mighty difference -between a living thump and a dead thump. That's what makes a blow from the -hand, Flask, fifty times more savage to bear than a blow from a cane. The -living member that makes the living insult, my little man. And thinks I to -myself all the while, mind, while I was stubbing my silly toes against that -cursed pyramid so confoundedly contradictory was it all, all the while, I -say, I was thinking to myself, "what's his leg now, but a cane a whalebone -cane. Yes," thinks I,"it was only a playful cudgelling in fact, only a -whaleboning that he gave me not a base kick. Besides," thinks I,"look at it -once why, the end of it the foot part what a small sort of end it is -whereas, if a broad footed farmer kicked me, there's a devilish broad insult. -But this insult is whittled down to a point only." But now comes the -greatest joke of the dream, Flask. While I was battering away at the -pyramid, a sort of badgerhaired old merman, with a hump on his back, takes -me by the shoulders, and slews me round. "What are you 'bout?" says he. Slid -man, but I was frightened. Such a phiz But, somehow, next moment I was over -the fright. "What am I about?" says I at last. "And what business is that of -yours, I should like to know, Mr. Humpback? Do you want a -kick?" By the lord, Flask, I had no sooner said that, than he turned round -his stern to me, bent over, and dragging up a lot of seaweed he had for a -clout what do you think, I saw? why thunder alive, man, his stern was stuck -full of marlinspikes, with the points out. Says I, on second thoughts,"I -guess I won't kick you, old fellow." "Wise Stubb," said he,"wise Stubb" and -kept muttering it all the time, a sort of eating of his own gums like a -chimney hag. seeing he wasn't going to stop saying over his "wise Stubb, wise -Stubb," I thought I might as well fall to kicking the pyramid again. But I -had only just lifted my foot for it, when he roared out, "Stop that kicking" -"Halloa," says I,"what's the matter now, old fellow?" "Look ye here," says -he"let's argue the insult. Captain Ahab kicked ye, didn't he?" "Yes, he -did," says I "right here it was." "Very good," says he "he used his ivory -leg, didn't he?" "Yes, he did," says I. "Well then," says he, "wise Stubb, -what have you to complain of? Didn't he kick with right good will? it wasn't -a common pitch pine leg he kicked with, was it? No, you were kicked by a -great man, and with a beautiful ivory leg, Stubb. It's an honor I consider -it an honor. Listen, wise Stubb. In old England the greatest lords think it -great glory to be slapped by a queen, and made garterknights of but, be -your boast, Stubb, that ye were kicked by old Ahab, and made a wise man of. -Remember what I say be kicked by him account his kicks honors and on no -account kick back for you can't help yourself, wise Stubb. Don't you see -that pyramid?" With that, he all of a sudden seemed somehow, in some queer -fashion, to swim off into the air. I snored rolled over and there I was -in my hammock Now, what do you think of that dream, Flask? I don't know -it seems a sort of foolish to me, tho'. May be, may be. But it's made a -wise man of me, Flask. D'ye see Ahab standing there, sideways looking over the -stern? Well, the best thing you can do, Flask, is to let that old man alone -never speak to him, whatever he says. Halloa what's that he shouts? Hark -Masthead, there Look sharp, all of ye There are whales hereabouts If -ye see a white one, split your lungs for him What d'ye think of that now, -Flask? ain't there a small drop -of something queer about that, eh? a white whaledid ye mark that, man? Look -yethere's something special in the wind. Stand by for it, Flask. Ahab has -that that's bloody on his mind. But, mum he comes this way. -Already we are boldly launched upon the -deep but soon we shall be lost in its unshored, harborless immensities. Ere -that come to pass ere the Pequod's weedy hull rolls side by side with the -barnacled hulls of the leviathan at the outset it is but well to attend to a -matter almost indispensable to a thorough appreciative understanding of the -more special leviathanic revelations and allusions of all sorts which are to -follow. It is some systematized exhibition of the whale in his broad genera, -that I would now fain put before you. Yet is it no easy task. The -classification of the constituents of a chaos, nothing less is here essayed. -Listen to what the best and latest authorities have laid down. No branch of -Zoology is so much involved as that which is entitled Cetology, says Captain -Scoresby, A. D. -. It is not my intention, were it in my power, to enter -into the inquiry as to the true method of dividing the cetacea into groups -and families.... Utter confusion exists among the historians of this animal -sperm whale, says Surgeon Beale, A. D. -. Unfitness to pursue our -research in the unfathomable waters. Impenetrable veil covering our -knowledge of the cetacea. A field strewn with thorns. All these -incomplete indications but serve to torture us naturalists. Thus speak of -the whale, the great Cuvier, and John Hunter, and Lesson, those lights of -zoology and anatomy. Nevertheless, though of real knowledge there be little, -yet of books there are -a plenty and so in some small degree, with cetology, or the science of -whales. many are the men, small and great, old and new, landsmen and seamen, -who have at large or in little, written of the whale. Run over a few The -Authors of the Bible Aristotle Pliny Aldrovandi Sir Thomas Browne -Gesner Ray Linnaeus Rondeletius Willoughby Green Artedi Sibbald -Brisson Marten Lacepede Bonneterre Desmarest Baron Cuvier Frederick -Cuvier John Hunter Owen Scoresby Beale Bennett J. Ross Browne the -Author of Miriam Coffin Olmstead and the Rev. T. Cheever. But to what -ultimate generalizing purpose all these have written, the above cited extracts -will show. Of the names in this list of whale authors, only those following -Owen ever saw living whales and but one of them was a real professional -harpooneer and whaleman. I mean Captain Scoresby. On the separate subject of -the Greenland or rightwhale, he is the best existing authority. But Scoresby -knew nothing and says nothing of the great sperm whale, compared with which -the Greenland whale is almost unworthy mentioning. And here be it said, that -the Greenland whale is an usurper upon the throne of the seas. He is not even -by any means the largest of the whales. Yet, owing to the long priority of -his claims, and the profound ignorance which, till some seventy years back, -invested the then fabulous and utterly unknown spermwhale, and which -ignorance to this present day still reigns in all but some few scientific -retreats and whaleports this usurpation has been every way complete. -Reference to nearly all the leviathanic allusions in the great poets of past -days, will satisfy you that the Greenland whale, without one rival, was to -them the monarch of the seas. But the time has at last come for a new -proclamation. This is Charing Cross hear ye good people all, the -Greenland whale is deposed, the great sperm whale now reigneth There are -only two books in being which at all pretend to put the living sperm whale -before you, and at the same time, in the remotest degree succeed in the -attempt. Those books are Beale's and Bennett's both in their time surgeons -to English SouthSea whaleships, and both exact and reliable men. The -original matter touching the sperm whale to be found in their volumes is -necessarily small but so far as it goes, it is of excellent quality, -though mostly confined to scientific description. As yet, however, the sperm -whale, scientific or poetic, lives not complete in any literature. Far above -all other hunted whales, his is an unwritten life. Now the various species of -whales need some sort of popular comprehensive classification, if only an easy -outline one for the present, hereafter to be filled in all its departments by -subsequent laborers. As no better man advances to take this matter in hand, -I hereupon offer my own poor endeavors. I promise nothing complete because -any human thing supposed to be complete, must for that very reason infallibly -be faulty. I shall not pretend to a minute anatomical description of the -various species, or in this place at least to much of any description. My -object here is simply to project the draught of a systematization of cetology. -I am the architect, not the builder. But it is a ponderous task no ordinary -lettersorter in the Postoffice is equal to it. To grope down into the -bottom of the sea after them to have one's hands among the unspeakable -foundations, ribs, and very pelvis of the world this is a fearful thing. -What am I that I should essay to hook the nose of this leviathan The awful -tauntings in Job might well appal me. Will he the leviathan make a covenant -with thee? Behold the hope of him is vain But I have swam through -libraries and sailed through oceans I have had to do with whales with these -visible hands I am in earnest and I will try. There are some -preliminaries to settle. first the uncertain, unsettled condition of this -science of Cetology is in the very vestibule attested by the fact, that in -some quarters it still remains a moot point whether a whale be a fish. In his -System of Nature, A. D. -, Linnaeus declares, I hereby separate the whales -from the fish. But of my own knowledge, I know that down to the year -sharks and shad, alewives and herring, against Linnaeus's express edict, were -still found dividing the possession of the same seas with the Leviathan. The -grounds upon which Linnaeus would fain have banished -the whales from the waters, he states as follows On account of their warm -bilocular heart, their lungs, their movable eyelids, their hollow ears, penem -intrantem feminam mammis lactantem, and finally, ex lege naturae jure -meritoque. I submitted all this to my friends Simeon Macey and Charley -Coffin, of Nantucket, both messmates of mine in a certain voyage, and they -united in the opinion that the reasons set forth were altogether insufficient. -Charley profanely hinted they were humbug. Be it known that, waiving all -argument, I take the good old fashioned ground that the whale is a fish, and -call upon holy Jonah to back me. This fundamental thing settled, the next -point is, in what internal respect does the whale differ from other fish. -Above, Linnaeus has given you those items. But in brief, they are these -lungs and warm blood whereas, all other fish are lungless and cold blooded. -Next how shall we define the whale, by his obvious externals, so as -conspicuously to label him for all time to come? To be short, then, a whale -is a spouting fish with a horizontal tail. There you have him. -However contracted, that definition is the result of expanded meditation. A -walrus spouts much like a whale, but the walrus is not a fish, because he is -amphibious. but the last term of the definition is still more cogent, as -coupled with the first. Almost any one must have noticed that all the fish -familiar to landsmen have not a flat, but a vertical, or upanddown tail. -Whereas, among spouting fish the tail, though it may be similarly shaped, -invariably assumes a horizontal position. By the above definition of what a -whale is, I do by no means exclude from the leviathanic brotherhood any sea -creature hitherto identified with the whale by the best informed Nantucketers -nor, on the other hand, link with it any fish hitherto authoritatively -regarded as alien. Hence, all the smaller, spouting, -and horizontal tailed fish must be included in this groundplan of Cetology. -Now, then, come the grand divisions of the entire whale host. First -According to magnitude I divide the whales into three primary BOOKS -subdivisible into Chapters, and these shall comprehend them all, both small -and large. I. The FOLIO WHALE II. the OCTAVO WHALE III. the DUODECIMO -WHALE. As the type of the FOLIO I present the Sperm Whale of the -OCTAVO, the Grampus of the DUODECIMO, the Porpoise. FOLIOS. Among these I -here include the following chapters I. The Sperm Whale II. the Right -Whale III. the Fin Back Whale IV. the Humpbacked Whale V. the -Razor Back Whale VI. the Sulphur Bottom Whale. BOOK I. Folio, -CHAPTER I. Sperm Whale. This whale, among the English of old vaguely -known as the Trumpa whale, and the Physeter whale, and the Anvil Headed whale, -is the present Cachalot of the French, and the Pottsfich of the Germans, and -the Macrocephalus of the Long Words. He is, without doubt, the largest -inhabitant of the globe the most formidable of all whales to encounter the -most majestic in aspect and lastly, by far the most valuable in commerce -he being the only creature from which that valuable substance, spermaceti, is -obtained. All his peculiarities will, in many other places, be enlarged upon. -It is chiefly with his name that I now have to do. Philologically considered, -it is absurd. Some centuries ago, when the Sperm whale was almost wholly -unknown in his own proper individuality, and when his oil was only -accidentally obtained from the stranded fish in those days spermaceti, it -would seem, was popularly supposed to be derived from a creature identical -with the one then known in England as the Greenland or Right Whale. It was -the idea also, that this same spermaceti was that quickening humor of the -Greenland Whale which the first syllable of the word literally expresses. In -those times, also, spermaceti was exceedingly scarce, not being used for -light, but only as an ointment and medicament. It was only to be had from the -druggists as you nowadays buy an ounce of rhubarb. When, as I opine, in the -course of time, the true nature of spermaceti became -known, its original name was still retained by the dealers no doubt to -enhance its value by a notion so strangely significant of its scarcity. And -so the appellation must at last have come to be bestowed upon the whale from -which this spermaceti was really derived. BOOK I. Folio, CHAPTER II. - Right Whale.In one respect this is the most venerable of the -leviathans, being the one first regularly hunted by man. It yields the -article commonly known as whalebone or baleen and the oil specially known as -whale oil, an inferior article in commerce. Among the fishermen, he is -indiscriminately designated by all the following titles The Whale the -Greenland Whale the Black Whale the Great Whale the True Whale the Right -whale. there is a deal of obscurity concerning the identity of the species -thus multitudinously baptized. What then is the whale, which I include in -the second species of my Folios? It is the Great Mysticetus of the English -naturalists the Greenland Whale of the English Whalemen the Baliene -Ordinaire of the French whalemen the Growlands Walfish of the Swedes. It is -the whale which for more than two centuries past has been hunted by the Dutch -and English in the Arctic seas it is the whale which the American fishermen -have long pursued in the Indian ocean, on the Brazil Banks, on the Nor' West -Coast, and various other parts of the world, designated by them Right Whale -Cruising Grounds. Some pretend to see a difference between the Greenland -whale of the English and the right whale of the Americans. But they precisely -agree in all their grand features nor has there yet been presented a single -determinate fact upon which to ground a radical distinction. It is by endless -subdivisions based upon the most inconclusive differences, that some -departments of natural history become so repellingly intricate. The right -whale will be elsewhere treated of at some length, with reference to -elucidating the sperm whale. BOOK I. Folio, CHAPTER III. FinBack. -Under this head I reckon a monster which, by the various names of -FinBack, TallSpout, and LongJohn, has been seen almost in every sea and is -commonly the whale whose distant jet is so often descried by passengers -crossing the Atlantic, in the New York -packettracks. In the length he attains, and in his baleen, the Finback -resembles the right whale, but is of a less portly girth, and a lighter -color, approaching to olive. His great lips present a cablelike aspect, -formed by the intertwisting, slanting folds of large wrinkles. His grand -distinguishing feature, the fin, from which he derives his name, is often a -conspicuous object. this fin is some three or four feet long, growing -vertically from the hinder part of the back, of an angular shape, and with a -very sharp pointed end. Even if not the slightest other part of the creature -be visible, this isolated fin will, at times, be seen plainly projecting from -the surface. When the sea is moderately calm, and slightly marked with -spherical ripples, and this gnomonlike fin stands up and casts shadows upon -the wrinkled surface, it may well be supposed that the watery circle -surrounding it somewhat resembles a dial, with its style and wavy hourlines -graved on it. On that Ahazdial the shadow often goes back. The FinBack is -not gregarious. He seems a whalehater, as some men are manhaters. Very -shy always going solitary unexpectedly rising to the surface in the -remotest and most sullen waters his straight and single lofty jet rising -like a tall misanthropic spear upon a barren plain gifted with such -wondrous power and velocity in swimming, as to defy all present pursuit from -man this leviathan seems the banished and unconquerable Cain of his race, -bearing for his mark that style upon his back. From having the baleen in his -mouth, the FinBack is sometimes included with the right whale, among a -theoretic species denominated Whalebone whales, that is, whales with baleen. -Of these so called Whalebone whales, there would seem to be several -varieties, most of which, however, are little known. Broadnosed whales and -beaked whales pikeheaded whales bunched whales underjawed whales and -rostrated whales, are the fishermen's names for a few sorts. In connexion -with this appellative of Whalebone whales , it is of great importance to -mention, that however such a nomenclature may be convenient in facilitating -allusions to some kind of whales, yet it is in vain to attempt a clear -classification of the Leviathan, founded upon either his baleen, or hump, or -fin, or teeth notwithstanding that those marked parts or features very -obviously seem better adapted to afford the basis for a regular system of -Cetology than any other detached bodily distinctions, which the whale, in his -kinds, presents. How then? The baleen, hump, backfin, and teeth these are -things whose peculiarities are indiscriminately dispersed among all sorts of -whales, without any regard to what may be the nature of their structure in -other and more essential particulars. Thus, the sperm whale and the -humpbacked whale, each has a hump but there the similitude ceases. Then, -this same humpbacked whale and the Greenland whale, each of these has baleen -but there again the similitude ceases. And it is just the same with the other -parts above mentioned. In various sorts of whales, they form such irregular -combinations or, in the case of any one of them detached, such an irregular -isolation as utterly to defy all general methodization formed upon such a -basis. On this rock every one of the whalenaturalists has split. But it -may possibly be conceived that, in the internal parts of the whale, in his -anatomy there, at least, we shall be able to hit the right classification. -Nay what thing, for example, is there in the Greenland whale's anatomy more -striking than his baleen? Yet we have seen that by his baleen it is -impossible correctly to classify the Greenland whale. And if you descend -into the bowels of the various leviathans, why there you will not find -distinctions a fiftieth part as available to the systematizer as those -external ones already enumerated. What then remains? nothing but to take hold -of the whales bodily, in their entire liberal volume, and boldly sort them -that way. And this is the Bibliographical system here adopted and it is the -only one that can possibly succeed, for it alone is practicable. To proceed. -book i. folio, chapter iv. hump back. this whale is often seen on -the northern American coast. He has been frequently captured there, and towed -into harbor. He has a great pack on him like a peddler or you might call -him the Elephant and Castle whale. At any rate, the popular name for him does -not sufficiently distinguish him, since the sperm whale also has a hump, -though a smaller one. His oil is not very valuable. He has baleen. He is -the most gamesome and lighthearted of all -the whales, making more gay foam and white water generally than any other of -them. BOOK I. Folio, CHAPTER V. Razor Back. Of this whale little is -known but his name. I have seen him at a distance off Cape Horn. Of a -retiring nature, he eludes both hunters and philosophers. Though no coward, -he has never yet shown any part of him but his back, which rises in a long -sharp ridge. Let him go. I know little more of him, nor does anybody else. -BOOK I. Folio, CHAPTER VI. Sulphur Bottom. Another retiring -gentleman, with a brimstone belly, doubtless got by scraping along the -Tartarian tiles in some of his profounder divings. He is seldom seen at -least I have never seen him except in the remoter southern seas, and then -always at too great a distance to study his countenance. He is never chased -he would run away with ropewalks of line. Prodigies are told of him. Adieu, -Sulphur Bottom I can say nothing more that is true of ye, nor can the oldest -Nantucketer. Thus ends BOOK I. Folio, and now begins BOOK II. octavo. -OCTAVOES. These embrace the whales of middling magnitude, among which at -present may be numbered I., the Grampus II., the Black Fish III., the -Narwhale IV., the Thrasher V., the Killer. BOOK II. Octavo, CHAPTER -I. Grampus. Though this fish, whose loud sonorous breathing, or rather -blowing, has furnished a proverb to landsmen, is so well known a denizen of -the deep, yet is he not popularly classed among whales. But possessing all -the grand distinctive features of the leviathan, most naturalists have -recognised him for one. He is of moderate octavo size, varying from fifteen -to twentyfive feet in length, and of corresponding dimensions round the -waist. He swims in herds he is never regularly hunted, though his oil is -considerable -in quantity, and pretty good for light. By some fishermen his approach is -regarded as premonitory of the advance of the great sperm whale. BOOK II. - Octavo, CHAPTER II. Black Fish. I give the popular fishermen's names -for all these fish, for generally they are the best. Where any name happens -to be vague or inexpressive, I shall say so, and suggest another. I do so -now, touching the Black Fish, so called, because blackness is the rule among -almost all whales. So, call him the Hyena Whale, if you please. His voracity -is well known, and from the circumstance that the inner angles of his lips -are curved upwards, he carries an everlasting Mephistophelean grin on his -face. This whale averages some sixteen or eighteen feet in length. He is -found in almost all latitudes. He has a peculiar way of showing his dorsal -hooked fin in swimming, which looks something like a Roman nose. When not -more profitably employed, the sperm whale hunters sometimes capture the Hyena -whale, to keep up the supply of cheap oil for domestic employment as some -frugal housekeepers, in the absence of company, and quite alone by themselves, -burn unsavory tallow instead of odorous wax. Though their blubber is very -thin, some of these whales will yield you upwards of thirty gallons of oil. -BOOK II. Octavo, CHAPTER III. Narwhale, that is, Nostril whale. -Another instance of a curiously named whale, so named I suppose from his -peculiar horn being originally mistaken for a peaked nose. The creature is -some sixteen feet in length, while its horn averages five feet, though some -exceed ten, and even attain to fifteen feet. Strictly speaking, this horn is -but a lengthened tusk, growing out from the jaw in a line a little depressed -from the horizontal. But it is only found on the sinister side, which has an -ill effect, giving its owner something analogous to the aspect of a clumsy -lefthanded man. What precise purpose this ivory horn or lance answers, it -would be hard to say. It does not seemed to be used like the blade of the -swordfish and billfish though some sailors tell me that the Narwhale -employs it for a rake in turning over the bottom of the sea for food. Charley -Coffin said it was used for an icepiercer for the Narwhale, rising to the -surface of the Polar Sea, -and finding it sheeted with ice, thrusts his horn up, and so breaks through. -But you cannot prove either of these surmises to be correct. My own opinion -is, that however this onesided horn may really be used by the Narwhale -however that may be it would certainly be very convenient to him for a -folder in reading pamphlets. The Narwhale I have heard called the Tusked -whale, the Horned whale, and the Unicorn whale. He is certainly a curious -example of the Unicornism to be found in almost every kingdom of animated -nature. From certain cloistered old authors I have gathered that this same -seaunicorn's horn was in ancient days regarded as the great antidote against -poison, and as such, preparations of it brought immense prices. It was also -distilled to a volatile salts for fainting ladies, the same way that the -horns of the male deer are manufactured into hartshorn. Originally it was in -itself accounted an object of great curiosity. Black Letter tells me that Sir -Martin Frobisher on his return from that voyage, when Queen Bess did -gallantly wave her jewelled hand to him from a window of Greenwich Palace, as -his bold ship sailed down the Thames when Sir Martin returned from that -voyage, saith Black Letter, on bended knees he presented to her highness a -prodigious long horn of the Narwhale, which for a long period after hung in -the castle at Windsor. An Irish author avers that the Earl of Leicester, -on bended knees, did likewise present to her highness another horn, pertaining -to a land beast of the unicorn nature. The Narwhale has a very picturesque, -leopardlike look, being of a milkwhite ground color, dotted with round and -oblong spots of black. His oil is very superior, clear and fine but there -is little of it, and he is seldom hunted. He is mostly found in the -circumpolar seas. BOOK II. Octavo, CHAPTER IV. Killer. Of this whale -little is precisely known to the Nantucketer, and nothing at all to the -professed naturalist. From what I have seen of him at a distance, I should -say that he was about the bigness of a grampus. He is very savage a sort of -Feegee fish. He sometimes takes the great Folio whales by the lip, and hangs -there like a leech, till the mighty brute is worried to death. The Killer -is never hunted. I never heard what sort of oil he has. Exception -might be taken to the name bestowed upon this whale, on the ground of its -indistinctness. For we are all killers, on land and on sea Bonapartes and -Sharks included. BOOK II. Octavo, CHAPTER V. Thrasher. This gentleman -is famous for his tail, which he uses for a ferule in thrashing his foes. He -mounts the Folio whale's back, and as he swims, he works his passage by -flogging him as some schoolmasters get along in the world by a similar -process. Still less is known of the Thrasher than of the Killer. Both are -outlaws, even in the lawless seas. thus ends book II. Octavo, and begins -BOOK III. Duodecimo. DUODECIMOES. These include the smaller whales. I. -The Huzza Porpoise. II. The Algerine Porpoise. III. The Mealymouthed -Porpoise. To those who have not chanced specially to study the subject, it -may possibly seem strange, that fishes not commonly exceeding four or five -feet should be marshalled among WHALES a word, which, in the popular sense, -always conveys an idea of hugeness. But the creatures set down above as -Duodecimoes are infallibly whales, by the terms of my definition of what a -whale is i. e. a spouting fish, with a horizontal tail. BOOK III. - Duodecimo, CHAPTER I Huzza Porpoise. This is the common porpoise -found almost all over the globe. The name is of my own bestowal for there -are more than one sort of porpoises, and something must be done to distinguish -them. I call them thus, because he always swims in hilarious shoals, which -upon the broad sea keep tossing themselves to heaven like caps in a -FourthofJuly crowd. Their appearance is generally hailed with delight by -the mariner. Full of fine spirits, they invariably come from the breezy -billows to windward. They are the lads that always live before the wind. They -are accounted a lucky omen. If you yourself can withstand three cheers at -beholding these vivacious fish, then heaven help ye the spirit of godly -gamesomeness is not in ye. A wellfed, plump Huzza Porpoise will yield you -one good gallon of good oil. But the fine and delicate fluid extracted from -his jaws is exceedingly valuable. It is in request among jewellers and -watchmakers. -Sailors put it on their hones. Porpoise meat is good eating, you know. It -may never have occurred to you that a porpoise spouts. Indeed, his spout is -so small that it is not very readily discernible. But the next time you have -a chance, watch him and you will then see the great Sperm whale himself in -miniature. BOOK III. Duodecimo, CHAPTER II. Algerine Porpoise. A -pirate. Very savage. He is only found, I think, in the Pacific. He is -somewhat larger than the Huzza Porpoise, but much of the same general make. -Provoke him, and he will buckle to a shark. I have lowered for him many -times, but never yet saw him captured. BOOK III. Duodecimo, CHAPTER III. - Mealymouthed Porpoise. The largest kind of Porpoise and only found in -the Pacific, so far as it is known. The only English name, by which he has -hitherto been designated, is that of the fishers RightWhale Porpoise, -from the circumstance that he is chiefly found in the vicinity of that Folio. -In shape, he differs in some degree from the Huzza Porpoise, being of a less -rotund and jolly girth indeed, he is of quite a neat and gentlemanlike -figure. He has no fins on his back most other porpoises have, he has a -lovely tail, and sentimental Indian eyes of a hazel hue. But his -mealymouth spoils all. Though his entire back down to his side fins is of a -deep sable, yet a boundary line, distinct as the mark in a ship's hull, called -the bright waist, that line streaks him from stem to stern, with two -separate colors, black above and white below. The white comprises part of his -head, and the whole of his mouth, which makes him look as if he had just -escaped from a felonious visit to a mealbag. A most mean and mealy aspect -His oil is much like that of the common porpoise. Beyond the DUODECIMO, this -system does not proceed, inasmuch as the Porpoise is the smallest of the -whales. Above, you have all the Leviathans of note. But there are a rabble -of uncertain, fugitive, halffabulous whales, which, as an American -whaleman, I know by reputation, but not personally. I shall enumerate them by -their forecastle appellations for possibly such a list may be valuable to -future investigators, who may complete what I have here but begun. If any of -the following -whales, shall hereafter be caught and marked, then he can readily be -incorporated into this System, according to his Folio, Octavo, or Duodecimo -magnitude The BottleNose Whale the Junk Whale the PuddingHeaded -Whale the Cape Whale the Leading Whale the Cannon Whale the Scragg Whale -the Coppered Whale the Elephant Whale the Iceberg Whale the Quog Whale -the Blue Whale etc. From Icelandic, Dutch, and old English authorities, -there might be quoted other lists of uncertain whales, blessed with all -manner of uncouth names. But I omit them as altogether obsolete and can -hardly help suspecting them for mere sounds, full of Leviathanism, but -signifying nothing. Finally It was stated at the outset, that this system -would not be here, and at once, perfected. You cannot but plainly see that I -have kept my word. But I now leave my cetological System standing thus -unfinished, even as the great Cathedral of Cologne was left, with the crane -still standing upon the top of the uncompleted tower. For small erections may -be finished by their first architects grand ones, true ones, ever leave the -copestone to posterity. God keep me from ever completing anything. This -whole book is but a draught nay, but the draught of a draught. Oh Time, -Strength, Cash, and Patience -I am aware that down to the present time, the fish styled Lamatins and -Dugongs Pigfish and Sowfish of the Coffins of Nantucket are included by -many naturalists among the whales. But as these pigfish are a nosy, -contemptible set, mostly lurking in the mouths of rivers, and feeding on wet -hay, and especially as they do not spout, I deny their credentials as -whales and have presented them with their passports to quit the kingdom of -Cetology. -Why this book of whales is not denominated the Quarto is very plain. Because, -while the whales of this order, though smaller than those of the former -order, nevertheless retain a proportionate likeness to them in figure, yet -the bookbinder's Quarto volume in its diminished form does not preserve the -shape of the Folio volume, but the Octavo volume does. -Concerning the officers of the -whalecraft, this seems as good a place as any to set down a little domestic -peculiarity on shipboard, arising from the existence of the harpooneer class -of officers, a class unknown of course in any other marine than the -whalefleet. The large importance attached to the harpooneer's vocation is -evinced by the fact, that originally in the old Dutch Fishery, two centuries -and more ago, the command of a whale ship was -not wholly lodged in the person now called the captain, but was divided -between him and an officer called the Specksynder. Literally this word means -FatCutter usage, however, in time made it equivalent to Chief Harpooneer. -In those days, the captain's authority was restricted to the navigation and -general management of the vessel while over the whalehunting department -and all its concerns, the Specksynder or Chief Harpooneer reigned supreme. In -the British Greenland Fishery, under the corrupted title of Specksioneer, -this old Dutch official is still retained, but his former dignity is sadly -abridged. At present he ranks simply as senior Harpooneer and as such, is -but one of the captain's more inferior subalterns. Nevertheless, as upon the -good conduct of the harpooneers the success of a whaling voyage largely -depends, and since in the American Fishery he is not only an important -officer in the boat, but under certain circumstances night watches on a -whaling ground the command of the ship's deck is also his therefore the -grand political maxim of the sea demands, that he should nominally live apart -from the men before the mast, and be in some way distinguished as their -professional superior though always, by them, familiarly regarded as their -social equal. Now, the grand distinction drawn between officer and man at -sea, is thisthe first lives aft, the last forward. Hence, in whaleships -and merchantmen alike, the mates have their quarters with the captain and -so, too, in most of the American whalers the harpooneers are lodged in the -after part of the ship. That is to say, they take their meals in the -captain's cabin, and sleep in a place indirectly communicating with it. -Though the long period of a Southern whaling voyage by far the longest of -all voyages now or ever made by man, the peculiar perils of it, and the -community of interest prevailing among a company, all of whom, high or low, -depend for their profits, not upon fixed wages, but upon their common luck, -together with their common vigilance, intrepidity, and hard work though all -these things do in some cases tend to beget a less rigorous discipline than in -merchantmen generally yet, never mind how much like an old Mesopotamian -family these whalemen may, in some primitive instances, live together for -all that, -the punctilious externals, at least, of the quarterdeck are seldom materially -relaxed, and in no instance done away. Indeed, many are the Nantucket ships -in which you will see the skipper parading his quarterdeck with an elated -grandeur not surpassed in any military navy nay, extorting almost as much -outward homage as if he wore the imperial purple, and not the shabbiest of -pilotcloth. And though of all men the moody captain of the Pequod was the -least given to that sort of shallowest assumption and though the only homage -he ever exacted, was implicit, instantaneous obedience though he required no -man to remove the shoes from his feet ere stepping upon the quarterdeck and -though there were times when, owing to peculiar circumstances connected with -events hereafter to be detailed, he addressed them in unusual terms, whether -of condescension or in terrorem, or otherwise yet even Captain Ahab was -by no means unobservant of the paramount forms and usages of the sea. Nor, -perhaps, will it fail to be eventually perceived, that behind those forms and -usages, as it were, he sometimes masked himself incidentally making use of -them for other and more private ends than they were legitimately intended to -subserve. That certain sultanism of his brain, which had otherwise in a good -degree remained unmanifested through those forms that same sultanism became -incarnate in an irresistible dictatorship. For be a man's intellectual -superiority what it will, it can never assume the practical, available -supremacy over other men, without the aid of some sort of external arts and -entrenchments, always, in themselves, more or less paltry and base. This it -is, that for ever keeps God's true princes of the Empire from the world's -hustings and leaves the highest honors that this air can give, to those men -who become famous more through their infinite inferiority to the choice hidden -handful of the Divine Inert, than through their undoubted superiority over -the dead level of the mass. Such large virtue lurks in these small things -when extreme political superstitions invest them, that in some royal -instances even to idiot imbecility they have imparted potency. But when, as -in the case of Nicholas the Czar, the ringed crown of geographical empire -encircles an imperial brain -then, the plebeian herds crouch abased before the tremendous centralization. -Nor, will the tragic dramatist who would depict mortal indomitableness in its -fullest sweep and direct swing, ever forget a hint, incidentally so important -in his art, as the one now alluded to. But Ahab, my Captain, still moves -before me in all his Nantucket grimness and shagginess and in this episode -touching Emperors and Kings, I must not conceal that I have only to do with -a poor old whalehunter like him and, therefore, all outward majestical -trappings and housings are denied me. Oh, Ahab what shall be grand in thee, -it must needs be plucked at from the skies, and dived for in the deep, and -featured in the unbodied air -It is noon and DoughBoy, the -steward, thrusting his pale loafofbread face from the cabinscuttle, -announces dinner to his lord and master who, sitting in the lee -quarterboat, has just been taking an observation of the sun and is now -mutely reckoning the latitude on the smooth, medallionshaped tablet, -reserved for that daily purpose on the upper part of his ivory leg. From his -complete inattention to the tidings, you would think that moody Ahab had not -heard his menial. But presently, catching hold of the mizen shrouds, he -swings himself to the deck, and in an even, unexhilarated voice, saying, -Dinner, Mr. Starbuck, disappears into the cabin. When the last echo of his -sultan's step has died away, and Starbuck, the first Emir, has every reason to -suppose that he is seated, then Starbuck rouses from his quietude, takes a -few turns along the planks, and, after a grave peep into the binnacle, says, -with some touch of pleasantness, Dinner, Mr. Stubb, and descends the -scuttle. The second Emir lounges about the rigging -awhile, and then slightly shaking the main brace, to see whether it be all -right with that important rope, he likewise takes up the old burden, and with -a rapid Dinner, Mr. Flask, follows after his predecessors. But the third -emir, now seeing himself all alone on the quarterdeck, seems to feel -relieved from some curious restraint for, tipping all sorts of knowing winks -in all sorts of directions, and kicking off his shoes, he strikes into a sharp -but noiseless squall of a hornpipe right over the Grand Turk's head and -then, by a dexterous sleight, pitching his cap up into the mizentop for a -shelf, he goes down rollicking, so far at least as he remains visible from -the deck, reversing all other processions, by bringing up the rear with music. -But ere stepping into the cabin doorway below, he pauses, ships a new face -altogether, and, then, independent, hilarious little Flask enters King Ahab's -presence, in the character of Abjectus, or the Slave. It is not the least -among the strange things bred by the intense artificialness of seausages, -that while in the open air of the deck some officers will, upon provocation, -bear themselves boldly and defyingly enough towards their commander yet, -ten to one, let those very officers the next moment go down to their customary -dinner in that same commander's cabin, and straightway their inoffensive, not -to say deprecatory and humble air towards him, as he sits at the head of the -table this is marvellous, sometimes most comical. Wherefore this -difference? A problem? Perhaps not. To have been Belshazzar, King of -Babylon and to have been Belshazzar, not haughtily but courteously, -therein certainly must have been some touch of mundane grandeur. But he who -in the rightly regal and intelligent spirit presides over his own private -dinnertable of invited guests, that man's unchallenged power and dominion of -individual influence for the time that man's royalty of state transcends -Belshazzar's, for Belshazzar was not the greatest. Who has but once dined -his friends, has tasted what it is to be Caesar. It is a witchery of social -czarship which there is no withstanding. Now, if to this consideration you -superadd the official supremacy of a shipmaster, then, by inference, you -will derive the cause of that peculiarity of sealife just mentioned. -Over his ivoryinlaid table, Ahab presided like a mute, maned sealion on the -white coral beach, surrounded by his warlike but still deferential cubs. In -his own proper turn, each officer waited to be served. They were as little -children before Ahab and yet, in Ahab, there seemed not to lurk the smallest -social arrogance. With one mind, their intent eyes all fastened upon the old -man's knife, as he carved the chief dish before him. I do not suppose that -for the world they would have profaned that moment with the slightest -observation, even upon so neutral a topic as the weather. No And when -reaching out his knife and fork, between which the slice of beef was locked, -Ahab thereby motioned Starbuck's plate towards him, the mate received his -meat as though receiving alms and cut it tenderly and a little started if, -perchance, the knife grazed against the plate and chewed it noiselessly -and swallowed it, not without circumspection. For, like the Coronation -banquet at Frankfort, where the German Emperor profoundly dines with the seven -Imperial Electors, so these cabin meals were somehow solemn meals, eaten in -awful silence and yet at table old Ahab forbade not conversation only he -himself was dumb. What a relief it was to choking Stubb, when a rat made a -sudden racket in the hold below. And poor little Flask, he was the youngest -son, and little boy of this weary family party. His were the shinbones of -the saline beef his would have been the drumsticks. For Flask to have -presumed to help himself, this must have seemed to him tantamount to larceny -in the first degree. Had he helped himself at that table, doubtless, never -more would he have been able to hold his head up in this honest world -nevertheless, strange to say, Ahab never forbade him. And had Flask helped -himself, the chances were Ahab had never so much as noticed it. Least of all, -did flask presume to help himself to butter. Whether he thought the owners of -the ship denied it to him, on account of its clotting his clear, sunny -complexion or whether he deemed that, on so long a voyage in such marketless -waters, butter was at a premium, and therefore was not for him, a subaltern -however it was, Flask, alas was a butterless man Another thing. Flask was -the last person down at the dinner, -and Flask is the first man up. Consider For hereby Flask's dinner was badly -jammed in point of time. Starbuck and Stubb both had the start of him and -yet they also have the privilege of lounging in the rear. If Stubb even, who -is but a peg higher than Flask, happens to have but a small appetite, and -soon shows symptoms of concluding his repast, then Flask must bestir -himself, he will not get more than three mouthfuls that day for it is -against holy usage for Stubb to precede Flask to the deck. Therefore it was -that Flask once admitted in private, that ever since he had arisen to the -dignity of an officer, from that moment he had never known what it was to be -otherwise than hungry, more or less. For what he ate did not so much relieve -his hunger, as keep it immortal in him. Peace and satisfaction, thought -Flask, have for ever departed from my stomach. I am an officer but, how I -wish I could fist a bit of oldfashioned beef in the forecastle, as I used to -when I was before the mast. There's the fruits of promotion now there's the -vanity of glory there's the insanity of life Besides, if it were so that -any mere sailor of the Pequod had a grudge against Flask in Flask's official -capacity, all that sailor had to do, in order to obtain ample vengeance, was -to go aft at dinnertime, and get a peep at Flask through the cabin skylight, -sitting silly and dumfoundered before awful Ahab. Now, Ahab and his three -mates formed what may be called the first table in the Pequod's cabin. After -their departure, taking place in inverted order to their arrival, the canvas -cloth was cleared, or rather was restored to some hurried order by the pallid -steward. And then the three harpooneers were bidden to the feast, they being -its residuary legatees. They made a sort of temporary servants' hall of the -high and mighty cabin. In strange contrast to the hardly tolerable constraint -and nameless invisible domineerings of the captain's table, was the entire -carefree license and ease, the almost frantic democracy of those inferior -fellows the harpooneers. While their masters, the mates, seemed afraid of the -sound of the hinges of their own jaws, the harpooneers chewed their food with -such a relish that there was a report to it. They dined like lords they -filled their bellies like Indian ships all day loading with spices. Such -portentous -appetites had Queequeg and Tashtego, that to fill out the vacancies made by -the previous repast, often the pale DoughBoy was fain to bring on a great -baron of saltjunk, seemingly quarried out of the solid ox. And if he were -not lively about it, if he did not go with a nimble hopskipandjump, then -Tashtego had an ungentlemanly way of accelerating him by darting a fork at his -back, harpoonwise. And once Daggoo, seized with a sudden humor, assisted -DoughBoy's memory by snatching him up bodily, and thrusting his head into a -great empty wooden trencher, while Tashtego, knife in hand, began laying out -the circle preliminary to scalping him. He was naturally a very nervous, -shuddering sort of little fellow, this breadfaced steward the progeny of a -bankrupt baker and a hospital nurse. And what with the standing spectacle of -the black terrific Ahab, and the periodical tumultuous visitations of these -three savages, DoughBoy's whole life was one continual lipquiver. -Commonly, after seeing the harpooneers furnished with all things they -demanded, he would escape from their clutches into his little pantry -adjoining, and fearfully peep out at them through the blinds of its door, -till all was over. It was a sight to see Queequeg seated over against -Tashtego, opposing his filed teeth to the Indian's crosswise to them, -Daggoo seated on the floor, for a bench would have brought his hearseplumed -head to the low carlines at every motion of his colossal limbs, making the -low cabin framework to shake, as when an African elephant goes passenger in a -ship. But for all this, the great negro was wonderfully abstemious, not to -say dainty. It seemed hardly possible that by such comparatively small -mouthfuls he could keep up the vitality diffused through so broad, baronial, -and superb a person. But, doubtless, this noble savage fed strong and drank -deep of the abounding element of air and through his dilated nostrils -snuffed in the sublime life of the worlds. Not by beef or by bread, are -giants made or nourished. But Queequeg, he had a mortal, barbaric smack of -the lip in eating an ugly sound enough so much so, that the trembling -DoughBoy almost looked to see whether any marks of teeth lurked in his own -lean arms. And when he would hear Tashtego singing out for him to produce -himself, -that his bones might be picked, the simplewitted Steward all but shattered -the crockery hanging round him in the pantry, by his sudden fits of the -palsy. Nor did the whetstone which the harpooneers carried in their pockets, -for their lances and other weapons and with which whetstones, at dinner, -they would ostentatiously sharpen their knives that grating sound did not -at all tend to tranquillize poor DoughBoy. How could he forget that in his -Island days, Queequeg, for one, must certainly have been guilty of some -murderous, convivial indiscretions. Alas DoughBoy hard fares the white -waiter who waits upon cannibals. Not a napkin should he carry on his arm, -but a buckler. in good time, though, to his great delight, the three -saltsea warriors would rise and depart to his credulous, fablemongering -ears, all their martial bones jingling in them at every step, like Moorish -scimetars in scabbards. But, though these barbarians dined in the cabin, and -nominally lived there still, being anything but sedentary in their habits, -they were scarcely ever in it except at mealtimes, and just before -sleepingtime, when they passed through it to their own peculiar quarters. -In this one matter, Ahab seemed no exception to most American whale captains, -who, as a set, rather incline to the opinion that by rights the ship's cabin -belongs to them and that it is by courtesy alone that anybody else is, at -any time, permitted there. So that, in real truth, the mates and harpooneers -of the Pequod might more properly be said to have lived out of the cabin than -in it. For when they did enter it, it was something as a streetdoor enters a -house turning inwards for a moment, only to be turned out the next and, as -a permanent thing, residing in the open air. Nor did they lose much hereby -in the cabin was no companionship socially, Ahab was inaccessible. Though -nominally included in the census of Christendom, he was still an alien to it. -He lived in the world, as the last of the Grisly Bears lived in settled -Missouri. And as when Spring and Summer had departed, that wild Logan of the -woods, burying himself in the hollow of a tree, lived out the winter there, -sucking his own paws so, in his inclement, howling old age, Ahab's soul, -shut up in the caved trunk of his body, there fed upon the sullen paws of its -gloom -It was during the more pleasant weather, -that in due rotation with the other seamen my first masthead came round. In -most American whalemen the mastheads are manned almost simultaneously with -the vessel's leaving her port even though she may have fifteen thousand -miles, and more, to sail ere reaching her proper cruising ground. and if, -after a three, four, or five years' voyage she is drawing nigh home with -anything empty in her say, an empty vial even then, her mastheads are kept -manned to the last and not till her skysailpoles sail in among the spires -of the port, does she altogether relinquish the hope of capturing one whale -more. Now, as the business of standing mastheads, ashore or afloat, is a -very ancient and interesting one, let us in some measure expatiate here. I -take it, that the earliest standers of mastheads were the old Egyptians -because, in all my researches, I find none prior to them. For though their -progenitors, the builders of Babel, must doubtless, by their tower, have -intended to rear the loftiest masthead in all Asia, or Africa either yet -ere the final truck was put to it as that great stone mast of theirs may be -said to have gone by the board, in the dread gale of God's wrath therefore, -we cannot give these Babel builders priority over the Egyptians. And that the -Egyptians were a nation of masthead standers, is an assertion based upon the -general belief among archaeologists, that the first pyramids were founded for -astronomical purposes a theory singularly supported by the peculiar -stairlike formation of all four sides of those edifices whereby, with -prodigious long upliftings of their legs, those old astronomers were wont to -mount to the apex, and sing out for new stars even as the lookouts of a -modern ship sing out for a sail, or a whale just bearing in sight. In Saint -Stylites, the famous Christian hermit of old times, who built him a lofty -stone pillar in the desert and spent the whole latter portion of -his life on its summit, hoisting his food from the ground with a tackle in -him we have a remarkable instance of a dauntless standerofmastheads who -was not to be driven from his place by fogs or frosts, rain, hail, or sleet -but valiantly facing everything out to the last, literally died at his post. -Of modern standersofmastheads we have but a lifeless set mere stone, -iron, and bronze men who, though well capable of facing out a stiff gale, -are still entirely incompetent to the business of singing out upon discovering -any strange sight. There is Napoleon who, upon the top of the column of -Vendome, stands with arms folded, some one hundred and fifty feet in the air -careless, now, who rules the decks below whether Louis Philippe, Louis -Blanc, or Louis the Devil. Great Washington, too, stands high aloft on his -towering mainmast in Baltimore, and like one of Hercules' pillars, his -column marks that point of human grandeur beyond which few mortals will go. -Admiral Nelson, also, on a capstan of gunmetal, stands his masthead in -Trafalgar Square and ever when most obscured by that London smoke, token is -yet given that a hidden hero is there for where there is smoke, must be -fire. But neither great Washington, nor Napoleon, nor Nelson, will answer a -single hail from below, however madly invoked to befriend by their counsels -the distracted decks upon which they gaze however it may be surmised, that -their spirits penetrate through the thick haze of the future, and descry what -shoals and what rocks must be shunned. It may seem unwarrantable to couple in -any respect the masthead standers of the land with those of the sea but -that in truth it is not so, is plainly evinced by an item for which Obed -Macy, the sole historian of Nantucket, stands accountable. The worthy Obed -tells us, that in the early times of the whale fishery, ere ships were -regularly launched in pursuit of the game, the people of that island erected -lofty spars along the seacoast, to which the lookouts ascended by means of -nailed cleats, something as fowls go upstairs in a henhouse. A few years -ago this same plan was adopted by the Bay whalemen of New Zealand, who, upon -descrying the game, gave notice to the readymanned boats nigh the beach. But -this custom has now become obsolete turn we then to the one proper masthead, -that of a whaleship -at sea. The three mastheads are kept manned from sunrise to sunset the -seamen taking their regular turns as at the helm, and relieving each other -every two hours. In the serene weather of the tropics it is exceedingly -pleasant the masthead nay, to a dreamy meditative man it is delightful. -There you stand, a hundred feet above the silent decks, striding along the -deep, as if the masts were gigantic stilts, while beneath you and between -your legs, as it were, swim the hugest monsters of the sea, even as ships -once sailed between the boots of the famous Colossus at old Rhodes. There you -stand, lost in the infinite series of the sea, with nothing ruffled but the -waves. The tranced ship indolently rolls the drowsy trade winds blow -everything resolves you into languor. For the most part, in this tropic -whaling life, a sublime uneventfulness invests you you hear no news read -no gazettes extras with startling accounts of commonplaces never delude you -into unnecessary excitements you hear of no domestic afflictions bankrupt -securities fall of stocks are never troubled with the thought of what you -shall have for dinner for all your meals for three years and more are snugly -stowed in casks, and your bill of fare is immutable. In one of those southern -whalemen, on a long three or four years' voyage, as often happens, the sum of -the various hours you spend at the masthead would amount to several entire -months. And it is much to be deplored that the place to which you devote so -considerable a portion of the whole term of your natural life, should be so -sadly destitute of anything approaching to a cosy inhabitiveness, or adapted -to breed a comfortable localness of feeling, such as pertains to a bed, a -hammock, a hearse, a sentry box, a pulpit, a coach, or any other of those -small and snug contrivances in which men temporarily isolate themselves. Your -most usual point of perch is the head of the t' gallantmast, where you stand -upon two thin parallel sticks almost peculiar to whalemen called the t' -gallant crosstrees. Here, tossed about by the sea, the beginner feels about -as cosy as he would standing on a bull's horns. To be sure, in cold weather -you may carry your house aloft with you, in the shape of a watchcoat but -properly speaking the thickest watchcoat is no more of a house than the -unclad body for as the soul is glued inside -of its fleshly tabernacle, and cannot freely move about in it, nor even move -out of it, without running great risk of perishing like an ignorant pilgrim -crossing the snowy Alps in winter so a watchcoat is not so much of a house -as it is a mere envelope, or additional skin encasing you. You cannot put a -shelf or chest of drawers in your body, and no more can you make a -convenient closet of your watchcoat. Concerning all this, it is much to be -deplored that the mastheads of a southern whale ship are unprovided with -those enviable little tents or pulpits, called crow'snests, in which the -lookouts of a Greenland whaler are protected from the inclement weather of -the frozen seas. In the fireside narrative of Captain Sleet, entitled A -Voyage among the Icebergs, in quest of the Greenland Whale, and incidentally -for the rediscovery of the Lost Icelandic Colonies of Old Greenland in -this admirable volume, all standers of mastheads are furnished with a -charmingly circumstantial account of the then recently invented crow'snest -of the Glacier, which was the name of Captain Sleet's good craft. He called -it the Sleet's crow'snest, in honor of himself he being the original -inventor and patentee, and free from all ridiculous false delicacy, and -holding that if we call our own children after our own names we fathers -being the original inventors and patentees, so likewise should we denominate -after ourselves any other apparatus we may beget. In shape, the Sleet's -crow'snest is something like a large tierce or pipe it is open above, -however, where it is furnished with a movable sidescreen to keep to windward -of your head in a hard gale. Being fixed on the summit of the mast, you -ascend into it through a little traphatch in the bottom. On the after side, -or side next the stern of the ship, is a comfortable seat, with a locker -underneath for umbrellas, comforters, and coats. In front is a leather rack, -in which to keep your speaking trumpet, pipe, telescope, and other nautical -conveniences. When Captain Sleet in person stood his masthead in this crow's -nest of his, he tells us that he always had a rifle with him also fixed in -the rack, together with a powder flask and shot, for the purpose of popping -off the stray narwhales, or vagrant sea unicorns infesting those waters for -you cannot successfully shoot at them from -the deck owing to the resistance of the water, but to shoot down upon them is -a very different thing. Now, it was plainly a labor of love for Captain Sleet -to describe, as he does, all the little detailed conveniences of his -crow'snest but though he so enlarges upon many of these, and though he -treats us to a very scientific account of his experiments in this crow'snest, -with a small compass he kept there for the purpose of counteracting the -errors resulting from what is called the local attraction of all binnacle -magnets an error ascribable to the horizontal vicinity of the iron in the -ship's planks, and in the Glacier's case, perhaps, to there having been so -many brokendown blacksmiths among her crew I say, that though the Captain -is very discreet and scientific here, yet, for all his learned binnacle -deviations, azimuth compass observations, and approximate errors, he -knows very well, Captain Sleet, that he was not so much immersed in those -profound magnetic meditations, as to fail being attracted occasionally towards -that well replenished little casebottle, so nicely tucked in on one side of -his crow's nest, within easy reach of his hand. Though, upon the whole, I -greatly admire and even love the brave, the honest, and learned Captain yet -I take it very ill of him that he should so utterly ignore that casebottle, -seeing what a faithful friend and comforter it must have been, while with -mittened fingers and hooded head he was studying the mathematics aloft there -in that bird's nest within three or four perches of the pole. But if we -Southern whalefishers are not so snugly housed aloft as Captain Sleet and his -Greenlandmen were yet that disadvantage is greatly counterbalanced by the -widely contrasting serenity of those seductive seas in which we South fishers -mostly float. For one, I used to lounge up the rigging very leisurely, -resting in the top to have a chat with Queequeg, or any one else off duty whom -I might find there then ascending a little way further, and throwing a lazy -leg over the topsail yard, take a preliminary view of the watery pastures, -and so at last mount to my ultimate destination. Let me make a clean breast -of it here, and frankly admit that I kept but sorry guard. With the problem -of the universe revolving in me, how could Ibeing left completely to myself -at such a thoughtengendering altitude, how could I but lightly hold my -obligations to observe all whaleships' standing orders, Keep your weather -eye open, and sing out every time. And let me in this place movingly admonish -you, ye shipowners of Nantucket Beware of enlisting in your vigilant -fisheries any lad with lean brow and hollow eye given to unseasonable -meditativeness and who offers to ship with the phaedon instead of Bowditch -in his head. Beware of such an one, I say your whales must be seen before -they can be killed and this sunkeneyed young Platonist will tow you ten -wakes round the world, and never make you one pint of sperm the richer. Nor -are these monitions at all unneeded. For nowadays, the whalefishery -furnishes an asylum for many romantic, melancholy, and absentminded young -men, disgusted with the carking cares of earth, and seeking sentiment in tar -and blubber. Childe Harold not unfrequently perches himself upon the -masthead of some luckless disappointed whaleship, and in moody phrase -ejaculates Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll Ten thousand -blubberhunters sweep over thee in vain. Very often do the captains of such -ships take those absentminded young philosophers to task, upbraiding them -with not feeling sufficient interest in the voyage halfhinting that they -are so hopelessly lost to all honorable ambition, as that in their secret -souls they would rather not see whales than otherwise. But all in vain those -young Platonists have a notion that their vision is imperfect they are -shortsighted what use, then, to strain the visual nerve? They have left -their operaglasses at home. Why, thou monkey, said a harpooneer to one of -these lads, we've been cruising now hard upon three years, and thou hast not -raised a whale yet. Whales are scarce as hen's teeth whenever thou art up -here. Perhaps they were or perhaps there might have been shoals of them in -the far horizon but lulled into such an opiumlike listlessness of vacant, -unconscious reverie is this absentminded youth by the blending cadence of -waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity takes the mystic -ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, -pervading mankind and nature and every strange, halfseen, gliding, -beautiful thing that eludes him every dimlydiscovered, uprising fin of some -undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that -only people the soul by continually flitting through it. In this enchanted -mood, thy spirit ebbs away to whence it came becomes diffused through time -and space like Cranmer's sprinkled Pantheistic ashes, forming at last a -part of every shore the round globe over. There is no life in thee, now, -except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship by her, borrowed -from the sea by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this -sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch slip your hold -at all and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you -hover. And perhaps, at midday, in the fairest weather, with one -halfthrottled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer -sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists - enter Ahab Then, all. It -was not a great while after the affair of the pipe, that one morning shortly -after breakfast, Ahab, as was his wont, ascended the cabingangway to the -deck. There most seacaptains usually walk at that hour, as country -gentlemen, after the same meal, take a few turns in the garden. Soon his -steady, ivory stride was heard, as to and fro he paced his old rounds, upon -planks so familiar to his tread, that they were all over dented, like -geological stones, with the peculiar mark of his walk. Did you fixedly gaze, -too, upon that ribbed -and dented brow there also, you would see still stranger footprints the -footprints of his one unsleeping, everpacing thought. But on the occasion in -question, those dents looked deeper, even as his nervous step that morning -left a deeper mark. And, so full of his thought was Ahab, that at every -uniform turn that he made, now at the mainmast and now at the binnacle, you -could almost see that thought turn in him as he turned, and pace in him as he -paced so completely possessing him, indeed, that it all but seemed the -inward mould of every outer movement. D'ye mark him, Flask? whispered Stubb -the chick that's in him pecks the shell. T'will soon be out. The hours -wore on Ahab now shut up within his cabin anon, pacing the deck, with the -same intense bigotry of purpose in his aspect. It drew near the close of day. -Suddenly he came to a halt by the bulwarks, and inserting his bone leg into -the augerhole there, and with one hand grasping a shroud, he ordered Starbuck -to send everybody aft. Sir said the mate, astonished at an order seldom or -never given on shipboard except in some extraordinary case. Send everybody -aft, repeated Ahab. Mastheads, there come down When the entire ship's -company were assembled, and with curious and not wholly unapprehensive faces, -were eyeing him, for he looked not unlike the weather horizon when a storm is -coming up, Ahab, after rapidly glancing over the bulwarks, and then darting -his eyes among the crew, started from his standpoint and as though not a -soul were nigh him resumed his heavy turns upon the deck. With bent head and -halfslouched hat he continued to pace, unmindful of the wondering whispering -among the men till Stubb cautiously whispered to Flask, that Ahab must have -summoned them there for the purpose of witnessing a pedestrian feat. But this -did not last long. Vehemently pausing, he cried What do ye do when ye see -a whale, men? Sing out for him was the impulsive rejoinder from a score -of clubbed voices. -Good cried Ahab, with a wild approval in his tones observing the hearty -animation into which his unexpected question had so magnetically thrown them. -And what do ye next, men? Lower away, and after him And what tune is -it ye pull to, men? A dead whale or a stove boat More and more strangely -and fiercely glad and approving, grew the countenance of the old man at every -shout while the mariners began to gaze curiously at each other, as if -marvelling how it was that they themselves became so excited at such -seemingly purposeless questions. But, they were all eagerness again, as Ahab, -now halfrevolving in his pivothole, with one hand reaching high up a shroud, -and tightly, almost convulsively grasping it, addressed them thus All ye -mastheaders have before now heard me give orders about a white whale. Look -ye d'ye see this Spanish ounce of gold? holding up a broad bright coin to -the sun it is a sixteen dollar piece, men. D'ye see it? Mr. Starbuck, -hand me yon topmaul. While the mate was getting the hammer, Ahab, without -speaking, was slowly rubbing the gold piece against the skirts of his jacket, -as if to heighten its lustre, and without using any words was meanwhile lowly -humming to himself, producing a sound so strangely muffled and inarticulate -that it seemed the mechanical humming of the wheels of his vitality in him. -Receiving the topmaul from Starbuck, he advanced towards the mainmast with -the hammer uplifted in one hand, exhibiting the gold with the other, and with -a high raised voice exclaiming Whosoever of ye raises me a whiteheaded -whale with a wrinkled brow and a crooked jaw whosoever of ye raises me that -whiteheaded whale, with three holes punctured in his starboard fluke look -ye, whosoever of ye raises me that same white whale, he shall have this gold -ounce, my boys Huzza huzza cried the seamen, as with swinging -tarpaulins they hailed the act of nailing the gold to the mast. It's a -white whale, I say, resumed Ahab, as he threw down -the topmaul a white whale. Skin your eyes for him, men look sharp for -white water if ye see but a bubble, sing out. All this while Tashtego, -Daggoo, and Queequeg had looked on with even more intense interest and -surprise than the rest, and at the mention of the wrinkled brow and crooked -jaw they had started as if each was separately touched by some specific -recollection. Captain Ahab, said Tashtego, that white whale must be the -same that some call Moby Dick. Moby Dick? shouted Ahab. Do ye know the -white whale then, Tash? Does he fantail a little curious, sir, before he -goes down? said the GayHeader deliberately. And has he a curious spout, -too, said Daggoo, very bushy, even for a parmacetty, and mighty quick, -Captain Ahab? And he have one, two, tree oh good many iron in him hide, -too, Captain, cried Queequeg disjointedly, all twisketee betwisk, like -himhim faltering hard for a word, and screwing his hand round and round as -though uncorking a bottle like himhim Corkscrew cried Ahab, aye, -Queequeg, the harpoons lie all twisted and wrenched in him aye, Daggoo, his -spout is a big one, like a whole shock of wheat, and white as a pile of our -Nantucket wool after the great annual sheepshearing aye, Tashtego, and he -fantails like a split jib in a squall. Death and devils men, it is Moby -Dick ye have seen Moby Dick Moby Dick Captain Ahab, said Starbuck, who, -with Stubb and Flask, had thus far been eyeing his superior with increasing -surprise, but at last seemed struck with a thought which somewhat explained -all the wonder. Captain Ahab, I have heard of Moby Dickbut it was not Moby -Dick that took off thy leg? Who told thee that? cried Ahab then pausing, -Aye, Starbuck aye, my hearties all round it was Moby Dick that dismasted -me Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Aye, aye, -he shouted with a terrific, loud, animal sob, like that of a heartstricken -moose Aye, aye it was that accursed white whale that razeed me made a -poor pegging -lubber of me for ever and a day Then tossing both arms, with measureless -imprecations he shouted out Aye, aye and I'll chase him round Good Hope, -and round the horn, and round the norway maelstrom, and round perdition's -flames before I give him up. And this is what ye have shipped for, men to -chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, -till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out. What say ye, men, will ye -splice hands on it, now? I think ye do look brave. Aye, aye shouted the -harpooneers and seamen, running closer to the excited old man A sharp eye -for the White Whale a sharp lance for Moby Dick God bless ye, he seemed -to half sob and half shout. God bless ye, men. Steward go draw the great -measure of grog. But what's this long face about, Mr. Starbuck wilt thou not -chase the white whale? art not game for Moby Dick? I am game for his -crooked jaw, and for the jaws of Death too, Captain Ahab, if it fairly comes -in the way of the business we follow but I came here to hunt whales, not my -commander's vengeance. How many barrels will thy vengeance yield thee even -if thou gettest it, Captain Ahab? it will not fetch thee much in our -Nantucket market. Nantucket market Hoot But come closer, Starbuck thou -requirest a little lower layer. If money's to be the measurer, man, and the -accountants have computed their great countinghouse the globe, by girdling -it with guineas, one to every three parts of an inch then, let me tell thee, -that my vengeance will fetch a great premium here He smites his chest, -whispered Stubb, what's that for? methinks it rings most vast, but hollow. -Vengeance on a dumb brute cried Starbuck, that simply smote thee from -blindest instinct Madness To be enraged with a dumb thing, Captain Ahab, -seems blasphemous. Hark ye yet again, the little lower layer. All visible -objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event in the living -act, the undoubted deed there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts -forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man -will strike, strike through -the mask How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the -wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I -think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough. He tasks me he heaps me I -see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. -That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate and be the white whale agent, -or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him. Talk not -to me of blasphemy, man I'd strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the -sun do that, then could I do the other since there is ever a sort of fair -play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my master, man, -is even that fair play. Who's over me? Truth hath no confines. Take off -thine eye more intolerable than fiends' glarings is a doltish stare So, -so thou reddenest and palest my heat has melted thee to angerglow. But -look ye, Starbuck, what is said in heat, that thing unsays itself. There are -men from whom warm words are small indignity. I meant not to incense thee. -Let it go. Look see yonder Turkish cheeks of spotted tawn living, -breathing pictures painted by the sun. The Pagan leopards the unrecking and -unworshipping things, that live and seek, and give no reasons for the torrid -life they feel The crew, man, the crew Are they not one and all with Ahab, -in this matter of the whale? See Stubb he laughs See yonder Chilian he -snorts to think of it. Stand up amid the general hurricane, thy one tost -sapling cannot, Starbuck And what is it? Reckon it. 'Tis but to help strike -a fin no wondrous feat for Starbuck. What is it more? From this one poor -hunt, then, the best lance out of all Nantucket, surely he will not hang back, -when every foremasthand has clutched a whetstone? Ah constrainings seize -thee I see the billow lifts thee Speak, but speak Aye, aye thy -silence, then, that voices thee. aside something shot from my dilated -nostrils, he has inhaled it in his lungs. Starbuck now is mine cannot -oppose me now, without rebellion. God keep me keep us all murmured -Starbuck, lowly. But in his joy at the enchanted, tacit acquiescence of the -mate, Ahab did not hear his foreboding invocation nor yet the low laugh -from the hold nor yet the presaging vibrations of -the winds in the cordage nor yet the hollow flap of the sails against the -masts, as for a moment their hearts sank in. For again Starbuck's downcast -eyes lighted up with the stubbornness of life the subterranean laugh died -away the winds blew on the sails filled out the ship heaved and rolled as -before. Ah, ye admonitions and warnings why stay ye not when ye come? But -rather are ye predictions than warnings, ye shadows Yet not so much -predictions from without, as verifications of the foregoing things within. -For with little external to constrain us, the innermost necessities in our -being, these still drive us on. The measure the measure cried Ahab. -Receiving the brimming pewter, and turning to the harpooneers, he ordered -them to produce their weapons. Then ranging them before him near the capstan, -with their harpoons in their hands, while his three mates stood at his side -with their lances, and the rest of the ship's company formed a circle round -the group he stood for an instant searchingly eyeing every man of his crew. -But those wild eyes met his, as the bloodshot eyes of the prairie wolves -meet the eye of their leader, ere he rushes on at their head in the trail of -the bison but, alas only to fall into the hidden snare of the Indian. -Drink and pass he cried, handing the heavy charged flagon to the nearest -seaman. The crew alone now drink. Round with it, round Short draughts -long swallows, men 'tis hot as Satan's hoof. So, so it goes round -excellently. It spiralizes in ye forks out at the serpentsnapping eye. -well done almost drained. That way it went, this way it comes. Hand it me -here's a hollow Men, ye seem the years so brimming life is gulped and -gone. Steward, refill Attend now, my braves. I have mustered ye all round -this capstan and ye mates, flank me with your lances and ye harpooneers, -stand there with your irons and ye, stout mariners, ring me in, that I may -in some sort revive a noble custom of my fisherman fathers before me. O men, -you will yet see that Ha boy, come back? bad pennies come not sooner. -Hand it me. Why, now, this pewter had run brimming again, wer't not thou St. -Vitus' imp away, thou ague Advance, ye mates Cross your lances full -before me. Well -done Let me touch the axis. So saying, with extended arm, he grasped the -three level, radiating lances at their crossed centre while so doing, -suddenly and nervously twitched them meanwhile, glancing intently from -Starbuck to Stubb from Stubb to Flask. It seemed as though, by some -nameless, interior volition, he would fain have shocked into them the same -fiery emotion accumulated within the Leyden jar of his own magnetic life. -The three mates quailed before his strong, sustained, and mystic aspect. -Stubb and Flask looked sideways from him the honest eye of Starbuck fell -downright. In vain cried Ahab but, maybe, 'tis well. For did ye three -but once take the fullforced shock, then mine own electric thing, that had -perhaps expired from out me. Perchance, too, it would have dropped ye dead. -Perchance ye need it not. Down lances And now, ye mates, I do appoint ye -three cupbearers to my three pagan kinsmen there yon three most honorable -gentlemen and noblemen, my valiant harpooneers. Disdain the task? What, when -the great Pope washes the feet of beggars, using his tiara for ewer? Oh, my -sweet cardinals your own condescension, that shall bend ye to it. I do not -order ye ye will it. Cut your seizings and draw the poles, ye harpooneers -Silently obeying the order, the three harpooneers now stood with the detached -iron part of their harpoons, some three feet long, held, barbs up, before him. -Stab me not with that keen steel Cant them cant them over know ye not -the goblet end? Turn up the socket So, so now, ye cupbearers, advance. -The irons take them hold them while I fill Forthwith, slowly going from -one officer to the other, he brimmed the harpoon sockets with the fiery waters -from the pewter. Now, three to three, ye stand. Commend the murderous -chalices Bestow them, ye who are now made parties to this indissoluble -league. Ha Starbuck but the deed is done Yon ratifying sun now waits to -sit upon it. Drink, ye harpooneers drink and swear, ye men that man the -deathful whaleboat's bow Death to Moby Dick God hunt us all, if we do not -hunt Moby Dick to his death The long, barbed steel goblets were lifted -and to cries and maledictions against the white whale, the spirits -were simultaneously quaffed down with a hiss. Starbuck paled, and turned, and -shivered. Once more, and finally, the replenished pewter went the rounds -among the frantic crew when, waving his free hand to them, they all -dispersed and Ahab retired within his cabin. -The cabin by the stern windows -Ahab sitting alone, and gazing out. I leave a white and turbid wake -pale waters, paler cheeks, where'er I sail. The envious billows sidelong -swell to whelm my track let them but first I pass. Yonder, by the -everbrimming goblet's rim, the warm waves blush like wine. The gold brow -plumbs the blue. The diver sun slow dived from noon, goes down my soul -mounts up she wearies with her endless hill. Is, then, the crown too heavy -that I wear? this Iron Crown of Lombardy. Yet is it bright with many a gem -i, the wearer, see not its far flashings but darkly feel that i wear that, -that dazzlingly confounds. 'Tis iron that I knownot gold. 'Tis split, too -that I feel the jagged edge galls me so, my brain seems to beat against -the solid metal aye, steel skull, mine the sort that needs no helmet in the -most brainbattering fight Dry heat upon my brow? Oh time was, when as the -sunrise nobly spurred me, so the sunset soothed. No more. This lovely -light, it lights not me all loveliness is anguish to me, since I can ne'er -enjoy. Gifted with the high perception, I lack the low, enjoying power -damned, most subtly and most malignantly damned in the midst of Paradise -Good night good night waving his hand, he moves from the window. -'Twas not so hard a task. I thought to find one stubborn, at -the least but my one cogged circle fits into all their various wheels, and -they revolve. Or, if you will, like so many anthills of powder, they all -stand before me and I their match. Oh, hard that to fire others, the -match itself must needs be wasting What I've dared, I've willed and what -I've willed, I'll do They think me mad Starbuck does but I'm demoniac, I -am madness maddened That wild madness that's only calm to comprehend -itself The prophecy was that I should be dismembered andAye I lost this -leg. I now prophesy that I will dismember my dismemberer. Now, then, be the -prophet and the fulfiller one. That's more than ye, ye great gods, ever -were. I laugh and hoot at ye, ye cricketplayers, ye pugilists, ye deaf -Burkes and blinded Bendigoes I will not say as schoolboys do to bullies, -Take some one of your own size don't pommel me No, ye've knocked me -down, and I am up again but ye have run and hidden. Come forth from behind -your cotton bags I have no long gun to reach ye. Come, Ahab's compliments -to ye come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, -else ye swerve yourselves man has ye there. Swerve me? The path to my -fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. -Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under -torrents' beds, unerringly I rush Naught's an obstacle, naught's an angle -to the iron way -By the Mainmast Starbuck leaning -against it. My soul is more than matched she's overmanned and by a -madman Insufferable sting, that sanity should ground arms on such a field -But he drilled deep down, and blasted all my reason out of me I think I see -his impious end but feel that -I must help him to it. Will I, nill I, the ineffable thing has tied me to -him tows me with a cable I have no knife to cut. Horrible old man Who's -over him, he cries aye, he would be a democrat to all above look, how he -lords it over all below Oh I plainly see my miserable office, to obey, -rebelling and worse yet, to hate with touch of pity For in his eyes I read -some lurid woe would shrivel me up, had I it. Yet is there hope. Time and -tide flow wide. The hated whale has the round watery world to swim in, as the -small goldfish has its glassy globe. His heaveninsulting purpose, God may -wedge aside. I would up heart, were it not like lead. But my whole clock's -run down my heart the allcontrolling weight, I have no key to lift again. -[ A burst of revelry from the forecastle.] Oh, God to sail with such a -heathen crew that have small touch of human mothers in them Whelped -somewhere by the sharkish sea. The white whale is their demigorgon. Hark -the infernal orgies that revelry is forward mark the unfaltering silence -aft Methinks it pictures life. Foremost through the sparkling sea shoots on -the gay, embattled, bantering bow, but only to drag dark Ahab after it, where -he broods within his sternward cabin, builded over the dead water of the -wake, and further on, hunted by its wolfish gurglings. The long howl thrills -me through Peace ye revellers, and set the watch Oh, life 'tis in an -hour like this, with soul beat down and held to knowledge, as wild, -untutored things are forced to feed Oh, life 'tis now that I do feel the -latent horror in thee but 'tis not me that horror's out of me and with -the soft feeling of the human in me, yet will I try to fight ye, ye grim, -phantom futures Stand by me, hold me, bind me, O ye blessed influences - Stubb solus, and -mending a brace. Ha ha ha ha hem clear my throat I've been -thinking over it ever since, and that ha, ha's the final consequence. Why -so? Because a laugh's the wisest, easiest answer to all that's queer and -come what will, one comfort's always left that unfailing comfort is, it's -all predestinated. I heard not all his talk with Starbuck but to my poor -eye Starbuck then looked something as I the other evening felt. Be sure the -old Mogul has fixed him, too. I twigged it, knew it had had the gift, -might readily have prophesied it for when I clapped my eye upon his skull I -saw it. Well, Stubb, wise Stubb that's my title well, Stubb, what of it, -Stubb? Here's a carcase. I know not all that may be coming, but be it what -it will, I'll go to it laughing. Such a waggish leering as lurks in all your -horribles I feel funny. Fa, la lirra, skirra What's my juicy little pear -at home doing now? Crying its eyes out? Giving a party to the last arrived -harpooneers, I dare say, gay as a frigate's pennant, and so am Ifa, la -lirra, skirra Oh We'll drink tonight with hearts as light, To love, as -gay and fleeting As bubbles that swim, on the beaker's brim, And break on the -lips while meeting. a brave stave that who calls? mr. starbuck? Aye, aye, -sir Aside he's my superior, he has his too, if I'm not mistaken. Aye, -aye, sir, just through with this job coming. -Upon waking next morning about daylight, -I found Queequeg's arm thrown over me in the most loving and affectionate -manner. You had almost thought I had been his wife. The counterpane was of -patchwork, full of odd little particolored squares and triangles and this -arm of his tattooed all over with an interminable Cretan labyrinth of a -figure, no two parts of which were of one precise shade owing I suppose to -his keeping his arm at sea unmethodically in sun and shade, his shirt -sleeves irregularly rolled up at various times this same arm of his, I say, -looked for all the world like a strip of that same patchwork quilt. Indeed, -partly lying on it as the arm did when I first awoke, I could hardly tell it -from the quilt, they so blended their hues together and it was only by the -sense of weight and pressure that I could tell that Queequeg was hugging me. -My sensations were strange. Let me try to explain them. When I was a child, -I well remember a somewhat similar circumstance that befell me whether it -was a reality or a dream, I never could entirely settle. The circumstance was -this. I had been cutting up some caper or other I think it was trying to -crawl up the chimney, as i had seen a little sweep do a few days previous -and my stepmother who, somehow or other, was all the time whipping me, or -sending me to bed supperless, my mother dragged me by the legs out of the -chimney and packed me off to bed, though it was only two o'clock in the -afternoon of the st June, the longest day in the year in our hemisphere. I -felt dreadfully. But there was no help for it, so up stairs I went to my -little room in the third floor, undressed myself as slowly as possible so as -to kill time, and with a bitter sigh got between the sheets. I lay there -dismally calculating that sixteen entire hours must elapse before I could hope -for a resurrection. Sixteen hours in -bed the small of my back ached to think of it. And it was so light too -the sun shining in at the window, and a great rattling of coaches in the -streets, and the sound of gay voices all over the house. I felt worse and -worse at last I got up, dressed, and softly going down in my stockinged -feet, sought out my stepmother, and suddenly threw myself at her feet, -beseeching her as a particular favor to give me a good slippering for my -misbehavior anything indeed but condemning me to lie abed such an -unendurable length of time. But she was the best and most conscientious of -stepmothers, and back I had to go to my room. For several hours I lay there -broad awake, feeling a great deal worse than I have ever done since, even -from the greatest subsequent misfortunes. At last I must have fallen into a -troubled nightmare of a doze and slowly waking from it half steeped in -dreams I opened my eyes, and the before sunlit room was now wrapped in outer -darkness. Instantly I felt a shock running through all my frame nothing was -to be seen, and nothing was to be heard but a supernatural hand seemed -placed in mine. My arm hung over the counterpane, and the nameless, -unimaginable, silent form or phantom, to which the hand belonged, seemed -closely seated by my bedside. For what seemed ages piled on ages, I lay -there, frozen with the most awful fears, not daring to drag away my hand -yet ever thinking that if I could but stir it one single inch, the horrid -spell would be broken. I knew not how this consciousness at last glided away -from me but waking in the morning, I shudderingly remembered it all, and -for days and weeks and months afterwards I lost myself in confounding attempts -to explain the mystery. Nay, to this very hour, I often puzzle myself with -it. Now, take away the awful fear, and my sensations at feeling the -supernatural hand in mine were very similar, in their strangeness, to those -which I experienced on waking up and seeing Queequeg's pagan arm thrown round -me. But at length all the past night's events soberly recurred, one by one, -in fixed reality, and then I lay only alive to the comical predicament. For -though I tried to move his arm unlock his bridegroom clasp yet, sleeping -as he was, he still hugged me tightly, as though naught but death should part -us twain. I now strove to rouse him -Queequeg but his only answer was a snore. I then rolled over, my neck -feeling as if it were in a horsecollar and suddenly felt a slight scratch. -Throwing aside the counterpane, there lay the tomahawk sleeping by the -savage's side, as if it were a hatchetfaced baby. A pretty pickle, truly, -thought I abed here in a strange house in the broad day, with a cannibal and -a tomahawk Queequeg in the name of goodness, Queequeg, wake At length, -by dint of much wriggling, and loud and incessant expostulations upon the -unbecomingness of his hugging a fellow male in that matrimonial sort of style, -I succeeded in extracting a grunt and presently, he drew back his arm, -shook himself all over like a Newfoundland dog just from the water, and sat -up in bed, stiff as a pikestaff, looking at me, and rubbing his eyes as if -he did not altogether remember how I came to be there, though a dim -consciousness of knowing something about me seemed slowly dawning over him. -Meanwhile, I lay quietly eyeing him, having no serious misgivings now, and -bent upon narrowly observing so curious a creature. When, at last, his mind -seemed made up touching the character of his bedfellow, and he became, as it -were, reconciled to the fact he jumped out upon the floor, and by certain -signs and sounds gave me to understand that, if it pleased me, he would -dress first and then leave me to dress afterwards, leaving the whole -apartment to myself. Thinks I, Queequeg, under the circumstances, this is a -very civilized overture but, the truth is, these savages have an innate -sense of delicacy, say what you will it is marvellous how essentially -polite they are. I pay this particular compliment to Queequeg, because he -treated me with so much civility and consideration, while I was guilty of -great rudeness staring at him from the bed, and watching all his toilette -motions for the time my curiosity getting the better of my breeding. -Nevertheless, a man like Queequeg you don't see every day, he and his ways -were well worth unusual regarding. He commenced dressing at top by donning his -beaver hat, a very tall one, by the by, and then still minus his trowsers -he hunted up his boots. What under the heavens he did it for, I cannot -tell, but his next movement was to crush himself boots in hand, and hat on -under the bed when, from sundry violent -gaspings and strainings, I inferred he was hard at work booting himself -though by no law of propriety that I ever heard of, is any man required to be -private when putting on his boots. But Queequeg, do you see, was a creature -in the transition state neither caterpillar nor butterfly. He was just -enough civilized to show off his outlandishness in the strangest possible -manner. his education was not yet completed. He was an undergraduate. If he -had not been a small degree civilized, he very probably would not have -troubled himself with boots at all but then, if he had not been still a -savage, he never would have dreamt of getting under the bed to put them on. -At last, he emerged with his hat very much dented and crushed down over his -eyes, and began creaking and limping about the room, as if, not being much -accustomed to boots, his pair of damp, wrinkled cowhide ones probably not -made to order either rather pinched and tormented him at the first go off of -a bitter cold morning. Seeing, now, that there were no curtains to the window, -and that the street being very narrow, the house opposite commanded a plain -view into the room, and observing more and more the indecorous figure that -Queequeg made, staving about with little else but his hat and boots on I -begged him as well as I could, to accelerate his toilet somewhat, and -particularly to get into his pantaloons as soon as possible. He complied, -and then proceeded to wash himself. At that time in the morning any -Christian would have washed his face but Queequeg, to my amazement, -contented himself with restricting his ablutions to his chest, arms, and -hands. He then donned his waistcoat, and taking up a piece of hard soap on -the washstand centretable, dipped it into water and commenced lathering his -face. I was watching to see where he kept his razor, when lo and behold, he -takes the harpoon from the bed corner, slips out the long wooden stock, -unsheathes the head, whets it a little on his boot, and striding up to the -bit of mirror against the wall, begins a vigorous scraping, or rather -harpooning of his cheeks. Thinks I, Queequeg, this is using Rogers's best -cutlery with a vengeance. Afterwards I wondered the less at this operation -when I came to know of what fine steel the head of a harpoon is made, and how -exceedingly sharp the long straight edges are always kept. -the rest of his toilet was soon achieved, and he proudly marched out of the -room, wrapped up in his great pilot monkey jacket, and sporting his harpoon -like a marshal's baton. - Foresail -rises and discovers the watch standing, lounging, leaning, and -lying in various attitudes, all singing in chorus. Farewell and -adieu to you, Spanish ladies Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain Our -captain's commanded. st Nantucket Sailor Oh, boys, don't be sentimental -it's bad for the digestion Take a tonic, follow me Sings, and all -follow. Our captain stood upon the deck, A spyglass in his hand, A -viewing of those gallant whales That blew at every strand. Oh, your tubs in -your boats, my boys, And by your braces stand, And we'll have one of those -fine whales, Hand, boys, over hand So, be cheery, my lads may your hearts -never fail While the bold harpooneer is striking the whale Mate's Voice -from the QuarterDeck Eight bells there, forward nd Nantucket Sailor -Avast the chorus Eight bells there d'ye hear, bellboy? Strike the bell -eight, thou Pip thou blackling and let me call the watch. I've the sort -of mouth for that the hogshead mouth. So, so, thrusts his head down the -scuttle, Starboleens, ahoy Eight bells there below Tumble -up Dutch Sailor Grand snoozing tonight, maty fat night for that. I mark -this in our old Mogul's wine it's quite as deadening to some as -filliping to others. We sing they sleep aye, lie down there, like -groundtier butts. At 'em again There, take this copperpump, and hail -'em through it. Tell 'em to avast dreaming of their lasses. Tell 'em it's -the resurrection they must kiss their last, and come to judgment. That's -the way that's it thy throat ain't spoiled with eating Amsterdam butter. -French Sailor Hist, boys let's have a jig or two before we ride to anchor -in Blanket Bay. What say ye? There comes the other watch. Stand by all -legs Pip little Pip hurrah with your tambourine Pip Sulky and -sleepy. Don't know where it is. French Sailor Beat thy belly, then, and -wag thy ears. Jig it, men, I say merry's the word hurrah Damn me, won't -you dance? Form, now, Indianfile, and gallop into the doubleshuffle? -Throw yourselves Legs Legs Iceland Sailor I don't like your floor, -maty it's too springy to my taste. I'm used to icefloors. I'm sorry to -throw cold water on the subject but excuse me. Maltese Sailor Me too -where's your girls? Who but a fool would take his left hand by his right, -and say to himself, how d'ye do? Partners I must have partners Sicilian -Sailor Aye girls and a green then I'll hop with ye yea, turn -grasshopper LongIsland Sailor Well, well, ye sulkies, there's plenty more -of us. Hoe corn when you may, I say. All legs go to harvest soon. Ah here -comes the music now for it Azore Sailor Ascending, and pitching the -tambourine up the scuttle. -Here you are, Pip and there's the windlassbitts up you mount Now, boys - The half of them dance to the tambourine some go below some -sleep or lie among the coils of rigging. Oaths aplenty. Azore -Sailor Dancing. Go it, Pip Bang it, bellboy Rig it, dig it, stig -it, quig it, bellboy Make fireflies break the jinglers Pip -Jinglers, you say? there goes another, dropped off I pound it so. China -Sailor Rattle thy teeth, then, and pound away make a pagoda of thyself. -French Sailor Merrymad Hold up thy hoop, Pip, till I jump through it -split jibs tear yourselves Tashtego Quietly smoking. That's a white -man he calls that fun humph I save my sweat. Old Manx Sailor I wonder -whether those jolly lads bethink them of what they are dancing over. I'll -dance over your grave, I will that's the bitterest threat of your -nightwomen, that beat headwinds round corners. O Christ to think of the -green navies and the greenskulled crews Well, well belike the whole -world's a ball, as you scholars have it and so 'tis right to make one -ballroom of it. Dance on, lads, you're young I was once. d Nantucket -Sailor Spell oh whew this is worse than pulling after whales in a calm -give us a whiff, Tash. They cease dancing, and gather in clusters. -Meantime the sky darkens the wind rises. -Lascar Sailor By Brahma boys, it'll be douse sail soon. The skyborn, -hightide Ganges turned to wind Thou showest thy black brow, Seeva -Maltese Sailor Reclining and shaking his cap. It's the waves the -snow's caps turn to jig it now. They'll shake their tassels soon. Now would -all the waves were women, then I'd go drown, and chassee with them evermore -There's naught so sweet on earth heaven may not match it as those swift -glances of warm, wild bosoms in the dance, when the overarboring arms hide -such ripe, bursting grapes. Sicilian Sailor Reclining. Tell me not of -it Hark ye, lad fleet interlacings of the limbs lithe swayings coyings -flutterings lip heart hip all graze unceasing touch and go not -taste, observe ye, else come satiety. Eh, Pagan? Nudging. Tahitan -Sailor Reclining on a mat. Hail, holy nakedness of our dancing girls -the HeevaHeeva Ah low veiled, high palmed Tahiti I still rest me on thy -mat, but the soft soil has slid I saw thee woven in the wood, my mat -green the first day i brought ye thence now worn and wilted quite. Ah me -not thou nor I can bear the change How then, if so be transplanted to yon -sky? Hear I the roaring streams from Pirohitee's peak of spears, when they -leap down the crags and drown the villages? The blast the blast Up, -spine, and meet it Leaps to his feet. Portuguese Sailor How the sea -rolls swashing 'gainst the side Stand by for reefing, hearties the winds -are just crossing swords, pellmell they'll go lunging presently. Danish -Sailor Crack, crack, old ship so long as thou crackest, thou holdest Well -done The mate there holds ye to it stiffly. He's no more -afraid than the isle fort at Cattegat, put there to fight the Baltic with -stormlashed guns, on which the seasalt cakes th Nantucket Sailor He has -his orders, mind ye that. I heard old Ahab tell him he must always kill a -squall, something as they burst a waterspout with a pistol fire your ship -right into it English Sailor Blood but that old man's a grand old cove -We are the lads to hunt him up his whale All Aye aye Old Manx Sailor -How the three pines shake Pines are the hardest sort of tree to live when -shifted to any other soil, and here there's none but the crew's cursed clay. -Steady, helmsman steady. This is the sort of weather when brave hearts snap -ashore, and keeled hulls split at sea. Our captain has his birthmark look -yonder, boys, there's another in the sky luridlike, ye see, all else pitch -black. Daggoo What of that? Who's afraid of black's afraid of me I'm -quarried out of it Spanish Sailor Aside. He wants to bully, ah the -old grudge makes me touchy. Advancing. Aye, harpooneer, thy race is the -undeniable dark side of mankind devilish dark at that. No offence. Daggoo - grimly None. St. Jago's Sailor That Spaniard's mad or drunk. But that -can't be, or else in his one case our old Mogul's firewaters are somewhat -long in working. th Nantucket Sailor What's that I sawlightning? Yes. -Spanish Sailor No Daggoo showing his teeth. Daggoo springing Swallow -thine, mannikin White skin, white liver Spanish Sailor meeting him -Knife thee heartily big frame, small spirit All A row a row a row -Tashtego with a whiff A row a'low, and a row aloft Gods and men both -brawlers Humph Belfast Sailor A row arrah a row The Virgin be blessed, -a row Plunge in with ye English Sailor Fair play Snatch the Spaniard's -knife A ring, a ring Old Manx Sailor Ready formed. There the ringed -horizon. In that ring Cain struck Abel. Sweet work, right work No? Why -then, God, mad'st thou the ring? Mate's Voice from the Quarter Deck Hands by -the halyards in topgallant sails Stand by to reef topsails All The -squall the squall jump, my jollies They scatter. Pip shrinking -under the windlass Jollies? Lord help such jollies Crish, crash there -goes the jibstay Blangwhang God Duck lower, Pip, here comes the royal -yard It's worse than being in the whirled woods, the last day of the year -Who'd go climbing after chestnuts now? But there they go, all cursing, and -here I don't. Fine prospects to 'em they're on the road to heaven. Hold on -hard Jimmini, what a squall But those chaps there are worse yet they are -your white squalls, they. White squalls? white whale, shirr -shirr Here have I heard all their chat just now, and the white whale -shirr shirr but spoken of once and only this evening it makes me -jingle all over like my tambourine that anaconda of an old man swore 'em in -to hunt him Oh, thou big white God aloft there somewhere in yon darkness, -have mercy on this small black boy down here preserve him from all men that -have no bowels to feel fear -I, Ishmael, was one of that crew my shouts -had gone up with the rest my oath had been welded with theirs and -stronger I shouted, and more did I hammer and clinch my oath, because of the -dread in my soul. A wild, mystical, sympathetical feeling was in me Ahab's -quenchless feud seemed mine. With greedy ears I learned the history of that -murderous monster against whom I and all the others had taken our oaths of -violence and revenge. For some time past, though at intervals only, the -unaccompanied, secluded White Whale had haunted those uncivilized seas mostly -frequented by the Sperm Whale fishermen. But not all of them knew of his -existence only a few of them, comparatively, had knowingly seen him while -the number who as yet had actually and knowingly given battle to him, was -small indeed. For, owing to the large number of whalecruisers the -disorderly way they were sprinkled over the entire watery circumference, -many of them adventurously pushing their quest along solitary latitudes, so -as seldom or never for a whole twelvemonth or more on a stretch, to encounter -a single newstelling sail of any sort the inordinate length of each -separate voyage the irregularity of the times of sailing from home all -these, with other circumstances, direct and indirect, long obstructed -the spread through the whole worldwide whalingfleet of the special -individualizing tidings concerning Moby Dick. It was hardly to be doubted, -that several vessels reported to have encountered, at such or such a time, or -on such or such a meridian, a Sperm Whale of uncommon magnitude and -malignity, which whale, after doing great mischief to his assailants, had -completely escaped them to some minds it was not an unfair presumption, I -say, that the whale in question must have been no other than moby Dick. Yet -as of late the Sperm Whale fishery had been marked by various and not -unfrequent instances of great ferocity, cunning, and malice in the monster -attacked therefore it was, that those who by accident ignorantly gave -battle to Moby Dick such hunters, perhaps, for the most part, were content -to ascribe the peculiar terror he bred, more, as it were, to the perils of -the Sperm Whale fishery at large, than to the individual cause. In that way, -mostly, the disastrous encounter between Ahab and the whale had hitherto been -popularly regarded. And as for those who, previously hearing of the White -Whale, by chance caught sight of him in the beginning of the thing they had -every one of them, almost, as boldly and fearlessly lowered for him, as for -any other whale of that species. But at length, such calamities did ensue in -these assaults not restricted to sprained wrists and ancles, broken limbs, -or devouring amputations but fatal to the last degree of fatality those -repeated disastrous repulses, all accumulating and piling their terrors upon -Moby Dick those things had gone far to shake the fortitude of many brave -hunters, to whom the story of the White Whale had eventually come. Nor did -wild rumors of all sorts fail to exaggerate, and still the more horrify the -true histories of these deadly encounters. For not only do fabulous rumors -naturally grow out of the very body of all surprising terrible events, as the -smitten tree gives birth to its fungi but, in maritime life, far more than -in that of terra firma, wild rumors abound, wherever there is any adequate -reality for them to cling to. And as the sea surpasses the land in this -matter, so the whale fishery surpasses every other sort of maritime life, in -the wonderfulness and fearfulness of the -rumors which sometimes circulate there. For not only are whalemen as a body -unexempt from that ignorance and superstitiousness hereditary to all sailors -but of all sailors, they are by all odds the most directly brought into -contact with whatever is appallingly astonishing in the sea face to face -they not only eye its greatest marvels, but, hand to jaw, give battle to -them. Alone, in such remotest waters, that though you sailed a thousand -miles, and passed a thousand shores, you would not come to any chiselled -hearthstone, or aught hospitable beneath that part of the sun in such -latitudes and longitudes, pursuing too such a calling as he does, the whaleman -is wrapped by influences all tending to make his fancy pregnant with many a -mighty birth. No wonder, then, that ever gathering volume from the mere -transit over the widest watery spaces, the outblown rumors of the White Whale -did in the end incorporate with themselves all manner of morbid hints, and -halfformed foetal suggestions of supernatural agencies, which eventually -invested Moby Dick with new terrors unborrowed from anything that visibly -appears. So that in many cases such a panic did he finally strike, that few -who by those rumors, at least, had heard of the White Whale, few of those -hunters were willing to encounter the perils of his jaw. But there were still -other and more vital practical influences at work. Not even at the present -day has the original prestige of the Sperm Whale, as fearfully distinguished -from all other species of the leviathan, died out of the minds of the whalemen -as a body. There are those this day among them, who, though intelligent and -courageous enough in offering battle to the Greenland or Right whale, would -perhaps either from professional inexperience, or incompetency, or timidity, -decline a contest with the Sperm Whale at any rate, there are plenty of -whalemen, especially among those whaling nations not sailing under the -American flag, who have never hostilely encountered the Sperm Whale, but -whose sole knowledge of the leviathan is restricted to the ignoble monster -primitively pursued in the North seated on their hatches, these men will -hearken with a childish fireside interest and awe, to the wild, strange -tales of -Southern whaling. Nor is the preeminent tremendousness of the great Sperm -Whale anywhere more feelingly comprehended, than on board of those prows which -stem him. And as if the now tested reality of his might had in former -legendary times thrown its shadow before it we find some book naturalists -Olassen and Povelson declaring the Sperm Whale not only to be a -consternation to every other creature in the sea, but also to be so incredibly -ferocious as continually to be athirst for human blood. Nor even down to so -late a time as Cuvier's, were these or almost similar impressions effaced. -For in his Natural History, the Baron himself affirms that at sight of the -Sperm Whale, all fish sharks included are struck with the most lively -terrors, and often in the precipitancy of their flight dash themselves -against the rocks with such violence as to cause instantaneous death. And -however the general experiences in the fishery may amend such reports as -these yet in their full terribleness, even to the bloodthirsty item of -Povelson, the superstitious belief in them is, in some vicissitudes of their -vocation, revived in the minds of the hunters. So that overawed by the rumors -and portents concerning him, not a few of the fishermen recalled, in reference -to Moby Dick, the earlier days of the Sperm Whale fishery, when it was -oftentimes hard to induce long practised Right whalemen to embark in the -perils of this new and daring warfare such men protesting that although -other leviathans might be hopefully pursued, yet to chase and point lance at -such an apparition as the Sperm Whale was not for mortal man. That to attempt -it, would be inevitably to be torn into a quick eternity. on this head, there -are some remarkable documents that may be consulted. Nevertheless, some there -were, who even in the face of these things were ready to give chase to Moby -Dick and a still greater number who, chancing only to hear of him distantly -and vaguely, without the specific details of any certain calamity, and -without superstitious accompaniments, were sufficiently hardy not to flee -from the battle if offered. One of the wild suggestings referred to, as at -last coming to be linked with the White Whale in the minds of the -superstitiously inclined, was the unearthly conceit that Moby Dick was -ubiquitous that he had actually been encountered in opposite latitudes at -one and the same instant of time. Nor, credulous as such minds must have been, -was this conceit altogether without some faint show of superstitious -probability. For as the secrets of the currents in the seas have never yet -been divulged, even to the most erudite research so the hidden ways of the -Sperm Whale when beneath the surface remain, in great part, unaccountable to -his pursuers and from time to time have originated the most curious and -contradictory speculations regarding them, especially concerning the mystic -modes whereby, after sounding to a great depth, he transports himself with -such vast swiftness to the most widely distant points. It is a thing well -known to both American and English whaleships, and as well a thing placed -upon authoritative record years ago by Scoresby, that some whales have been -captured far north in the Pacific, in whose bodies have been found the barbs -of harpoons darted in the Greenland seas. Nor is it to be gainsaid, that in -some of these instances it has been declared that the interval of time between -the two assaults could not have exceeded very many days. Hence, by inference, -it has been believed by some whalemen, that the nor' west passage, so long a -problem to man, was never a problem to the whale. So that here, in the real -living experience of living men, the prodigies related in old times of the -inland Strello mountain in Portugal near whose top there was said to be a -lake in which the wrecks of ships floated up to the surface and that still -more wonderful story of the Arethusa fountain near Syracuse whose waters -were believed to have come from the Holy Land by an underground passage -these fabulous narrations are almost fully equalled by the realities of the -whaleman. Forced into familiarity, then, with such prodigies as these and -knowing that after repeated, intrepid assaults, the White Whale had escaped -alive it cannot be much matter of surprise that some whalemen should go -still further in their superstitions declaring Moby Dick not only ubiquitous, -but immortal for immortality is but ubiquity in time that though groves -of spears should be planted in his flanks, he would still swim away unharmed -or if indeed he should ever be made to spout thick -blood, such a sight would be but a ghastly deception for again in -unensanguined billows hundreds of leagues away, his unsullied jet would once -more be seen. But even stripped of these supernatural surmisings, there was -enough in the earthly make and incontestable character of the monster to -strike the imagination with unwonted power. For, it was not so much his -uncommon bulk that so much distinguished him from other sperm whales, but, as -was elsewhere thrown out a peculiar snowwhite wrinkled forehead, and a -high, pyramidical white hump. These were his prominent features the tokens -whereby, even in the limitless, uncharted seas, he revealed his identity, at -a long distance, to those who knew him. The rest of his body was so streaked, -and spotted, and marbled with the same shrouded hue, that, in the end, he had -gained his distinctive appellation of the white Whale a name, indeed, -literally justified by his vivid aspect, when seen gliding at high noon -through a dark blue sea, leaving a milkyway wake of creamy foam, all -spangled with golden gleamings. Nor was it his unwonted magnitude, nor his -remarkable hue, nor yet his deformed lower jaw, that so much invested the -whale with natural terror, as that unexampled, intelligent malignity which, -according to specific accounts, he had over and over again evinced in his -assaults. More than all, his treacherous retreats struck more of dismay than -perhaps aught else. For, when swimming before his exulting pursuers, with -every apparent symptom of alarm, he had several times been known to turn -around suddenly, and, bearing down upon them, either stave their boats to -splinters, or drive them back in consternation to their ship. Already several -fatalities had attended his chase. But though similar disasters, however -little bruited ashore, were by no means unusual in the fishery yet, in most -instances, such seemed the White Whale's infernal aforethought of ferocity, -that every dismembering or death that he caused, was not wholly regarded as -having been inflicted by an unintelligent agent. Judge, then, to what pitches -of inflamed, distracted fury the -minds of his more desperate hunters were impelled, when amid the chips of -chewed boats, and the sinking limbs of torn comrades, they swam out of the -white curds of the whale's direful wrath into the serene, exasperating -sunlight, that smiled on, as if at a birth or a bridal. His three boats stove -around him, and oars and men both whirling in the eddies one captain, -seizing the lineknife from his broken prow, had dashed at the whale, as an -Arkansas duellist at his foe, blindly seeking with a six inch blade to reach -the fathomdeep life of the whale. That captain was Ahab. And then it was, -that suddenly sweeping his sickleshaped lower jaw beneath him, Moby Dick had -reaped away ahab's leg, as a mower a blade of grass in the field. No turbaned -Turk, no hired Venetian or Malay, could have smote him with more seeming -malice. Small reason was there to doubt, then, that ever since that almost -fatal encounter, Ahab had cherished a wild vindictiveness against the whale, -all the more fell for that in his frantic morbidness he at last came to -identify with him, not only all his bodily woes, but all his intellectual and -spiritual exasperations. The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac -incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in -them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. That -intangible malignity which has been from the beginning to whose dominion -even the modern Christians ascribe onehalf of the worlds which the ancient -Ophites of the east reverenced in their statue devil Ahab did not fall down -and worship it like them but deliriously transferring its idea to the -abhorred white whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated, against it. All that -most maddens and torments all that stirs up the lees of things all truth -with malice in it all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain all the -subtle demonisms of life and thought all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly -personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the -whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole -race from Adam down and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst -his hot heart's shell upon it. -It is not probable that this monomania in him took its instant rise at the -precise time of his bodily dismemberment. Then, in darting at the monster, -knife in hand, he had but given loose to a sudden, passionate, corporal -animosity and when he received the stroke that tore him, he probably but -felt the agonizing bodily laceration, but nothing more. Yet, when by this -collision forced to turn towards home, and for long months of days and weeks, -ahab and anguish lay stretched together in one hammock, rounding in mid -winter that dreary, howling Patagonian Cape then it was, that his torn body -and gashed soul bled into one another and so interfusing, made him mad. -That it was only then, on the homeward voyage, after the encounter, that the -final monomania seized him, seems all but certain from the fact that, at -intervals during the passage, he was a raving lunatic and, though unlimbed -of a leg, yet such vital strength yet lurked in his Egyptian chest, and was -moreover intensified by his delirium, that his mates were forced to lace him -fast, even there, as he sailed, raving in his hammock. In a straitjacket, -he swung to the mad rockings of the gales. And, when running into more -sufferable latitudes, the ship, with mild stun'sails spread, floated across -the tranquil tropics, and, to all appearances, the old man's delirium seemed -left behind him with the Cape Horn swells, and he came forth from his dark -den into the blessed light and air even then, when he bore that firm, -collected front, however pale, and issued his calm orders once again and -his mates thanked God the direful madness was now gone even then, Ahab, in -his hidden self, raved on. Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most -feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured -into some still subtler form. Ahab's full lunacy subsided not, but -deepeningly contracted like the unabated Hudson, when that noble Northman -flows narrowly, but unfathomably through the Highland gorge. But, as in his -narrowflowing monomania, not one jot of Ahab's broad madness had been left -behind so in that broad madness, not one jot of his great natural intellect -had perished. That before living agent, now became the living instrument. If -such a furious trope may stand, his special lunacy -stormed his general sanity, and carried it, and turned all its concentred -cannon upon its own mad mark so that far from having lost his strength, -Ahab, to that one end, did now possess a thousand fold more potency than ever -he had sanely brought to bear upon any one reasonable object. This is much -yet Ahab's larger, darker, deeper part remains unhinted. But vain to -popularize profundities, and all truth is profound. Winding far down from -within the very heart of this spiked Hotel de Cluny where we here stand -however grand and wonderful, now quit it and take your way, ye nobler, -sadder souls, to those vast Roman halls of Thermes where far beneath the -fantastic towers of man's upper earth, his root of grandeur, his whole awful -essence sits in bearded state an antique buried beneath antiquities, and -throned on torsoes So with a broken throne, the great gods mock that -captive king so like a Caryatid, he patient sits, upholding on his frozen -brow the piled entablatures of ages. Wind ye down there, ye prouder, sadder -souls question that proud, sad king A family likeness aye, he did beget -ye, ye young exiled royalties and from your grim sire only will the old -Statesecret come. Now, in his heart, Ahab had some glimpse of this, namely -all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad. Yet without power to -kill, or change, or shun the fact he likewise knew that to mankind he did -now long dissemble in some sort, did still. But that thing of his -dissembling was only subject to his perceptibility, not to his will -determinate. Nevertheless, so well did he succeed in that dissembling, that -when with ivory leg he stepped ashore at last, no Nantucketer thought him -otherwise than but naturally grieved, and that to the quick, with the -terrible casualty which had overtaken him. The report of his undeniable -delirium at sea was likewise popularly ascribed to a kindred cause. And so -too, all the added moodiness which always afterwards, to the very day of -sailing in the pequod on the present voyage, sat brooding on his brow. Nor is -it so very unlikely, that far from distrusting his fitness for another whaling -voyage, on account of such dark symptoms, the calculating people of that -prudent isle were inclined to -harbor the conceit, that for those very reasons he was all the better -qualified and set on edge, for a pursuit so full of rage and wildness as the -bloody hunt of whales. Gnawed within and scorched without, with the infixed, -unrelenting fangs of some incurable idea such an one, could he be found, -would seem the very man to dart his iron and lift his lance against the most -appalling of all brutes. Or, if for any reason thought to be corporeally -incapacitated for that, yet such an one would seem superlatively competent to -cheer and howl on his underlings to the attack. But be all this as it may, -certain it is, that with the mad secret of his unabated rage bolted up and -keyed in him, Ahab had purposely sailed upon the present voyage with the -one only and allengrossing object of hunting the White Whale. Had any one of -his old acquaintances on shore but half dreamed of what was lurking in him -then, how soon would their aghast and righteous souls have wrenched the ship -from such a fiendish man They were bent on profitable cruises, the profit -to be counted down in dollars from the mint. He was intent on an audacious, -immitigable, and supernatural revenge. Here, then, was this greyheaded, -ungodly old man, chasing with curses a Job's whale round the world, at the -head of a crew, too, chiefly made up of mongrel renegades, and castaways, and -cannibals morally enfeebled also, by the incompetence of mere unaided virtue -or rightmindedness in Starbuck, the invulnerable jollity of indifference -and recklessness in Stubb, and the pervading mediocrity in Flask. Such a -crew, so officered, seemed specially picked and packed by some infernal -fatality to help him to his monomaniac revenge. How it was that they so -aboundingly responded to the old man's ire by what evil magic their souls -were possessed, that at times his hate seemed almost theirs the White Whale -as much their insufferable foe as his how all this came to be what the -White Whale was to them, or how to their unconscious understandings, also, in -some dim, unsuspected way, he might have seemed the gliding great demon of -the seas of life, all this to explain, would be to dive deeper than Ishmael -can go. The subterranean miner that works in us all, how can one tell -whither leads his shaft by the ever shifting, muffled sound of his pick? Who -does not feel the -irresistible arm drag? What skiff in tow of a seventyfour can stand still? -For one, I gave myself up to the abandonment of the time and the place but -while yet all arush to encounter the whale, could see naught in that brute -but the deadliest ill. -What the white whale was to -Ahab, has been hinted what, at times, he was to me, as yet remains unsaid. -Aside from those more obvious considerations touching Moby Dick, which could -not but occasionally awaken in any man's soul some alarm, there was another -thought, or rather vague, nameless horror concerning him, which at times by -its intensity completely overpowered all the rest and yet so mystical and -well nigh ineffable was it, that I almost despair of putting it in a -comprehensible form. It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things -appalled me. But how can I hope to explain myself here and yet, in some -dim, random way, explain myself I must, else all these chapters might be -naught. Though in many natural objects, whiteness refiningly enhances -beauty, as if imparting some special virtue of its own, as in marbles, -japonicas, and pearls and though various nations have in some way recognised -a certain royal preeminence in this hue even the barbaric, grand old kings -of Pegu placing the title Lord of the White Elephants above all their other -magniloquent ascriptions of dominion and the modern kings of Siam unfurling -the same snowwhite quadruped in the royal standard and the Hanoverian flag -bearing the one figure of a snowwhite charger and the great Austrian -Empire, Caesarian, heir to overlording Rome, having for the imperial color -the same imperial hue and though this preeminence in it applies to the -human race itself, giving the white man ideal mastership over every dusky -tribe and though, besides all this, whiteness has been -even made significant of gladness, for among the Romans a white stone marked -a joyful day and though in other mortal sympathies and symbolizings, this -same hue is made the emblem of many touching, noble things the innocence of -brides, the benignity of age though among the Red Men of America the giving -of the white belt of wampum was the deepest pledge of honor though in many -climes, whiteness typifies the majesty of Justice in the ermine of the Judge, -and contributes to the daily state of kings and queens drawn by milkwhite -steeds though even in the higher mysteries of the most august religions it -has been made the symbol of the divine spotlessness and power by the Persian -fire worshippers, the white forked flame being held the holiest on the altar -and in the Greek mythologies, Great Jove himself made incarnate in a -snowwhite bull and though to the noble Iroquois, the midwinter sacrifice -of the sacred White Dog was by far the holiest festival of their theology, -that spotless, faithful creature being held the purest envoy they could send -to the Great Spirit with the annual tidings of their own fidelity and though -directly from the Latin word for white, all Christian priests derive the name -of one part of their sacred vesture, the alb or tunic, worn beneath the -cassock and though among the holy pomps of the Romish faith, white is -specially employed in the celebration of the Passion of our Lord though in -the Vision of St. John, white robes are given to the redeemed, and the -fourandtwenty elders stand clothed in white before the great white throne, -and the Holy One that sitteth there white like wool yet for all these -accumulated associations, with whatever is sweet, and honorable, and sublime, -there yet lurks an elusive something in the innermost idea of this hue, which -strikes more of panic to the soul than that redness which affrights in blood. -This elusive quality it is, which causes the thought of whiteness, when -divorced from more kindly associations, and coupled with any object terrible -in itself, to heighten that terror to the furthest bounds. Witness the white -bear of the poles, and the white shark of the tropics what but their smooth, -flaky whiteness makes them the transcendent horrors they are? That ghastly -whiteness it is which imparts such an abhorrent mildness, even -more loathsome than terrific, to the dumb gloating of their aspect. So that -not the fiercefanged tiger in his heraldic coat can so stagger courage as the -whiteshrouded bear or shark. Bethink thee of the albatross, whence come those -clouds of spiritual wonderment and pale dread, in which that white phantom -sails in all imaginations? Not Coleridge first threw that spell but God's -great, unflattering laureate, Nature. -Most famous in our Western annals and Indian traditions is that of the White -Steed of the Prairies a magnificent milkwhite charger, largeeyed, -smallheaded, bluffchested, and with the dignity of a thousand monarchs in -his lofty, overscorning carriage. He was the elected Xerxes of vast herds of -wild horses, whose pastures in those days were only fenced by the Rocky -Mountains and the Alleghanies. At their flaming head he westward trooped it -like that chosen star which every evening leads on the hosts of light. The -flashing cascade of his mane, the curving comet of his tail, invested him -with housings more resplendent than gold and silverbeaters could have -furnished him. A most imperial and archangelical apparition of that unfallen, -western world, which to the eyes of the old trappers and hunters revived the -glories of those primeval times when Adam walked majestic as a god, -bluffbowed and fearless as this mighty steed. Whether marching amid his aides -and marshals in the van of countless cohorts that endlessly streamed it over -the plains, like an Ohio or whether with his circumambient subjects browsing -all around at the horizon, the White Steed gallopingly reviewed them with -warm nostrils reddening through his cool milkiness in whatever aspect he -presented himself, always to the bravest Indians he was the object of -trembling reverence and awe. Nor can it be questioned from what stands on -legendary record of -this noble horse, that it was his spiritual whiteness chiefly, which so -clothed him with divineness and that this divineness had that in it which, -though commanding worship, at the same time enforced a certain nameless -terror. But there are other instances where this whiteness loses all that -accessory and strange glory which invests it in the White Steed and Albatross. -What is it that in the Albino man so peculiarly repels and often shocks the -eye, as that sometimes he is loathed by his own kith and kin It is that -whiteness which invests him, a thing expressed by the name he bears. The -Albino is as well made as other men has no substantive deformity and yet -this mere aspect of allpervading whiteness makes him more strangely hideous -than the ugliest abortion. Why should this be so? Nor, in quite other -aspects, does Nature in her least palpable but not the less malicious -agencies, fail to enlist among her forces this crowning attribute of the -terrible. From its snowy aspect, the gauntleted ghost of the Southern Seas -has been denominated the White Squall. Nor, in some historic instances, has -the art of human malice omitted so potent an auxiliary. How wildly it -heightens the effect of that passage in Froissart, when, masked in the snowy -symbol of their faction, the desperate White Hoods of Ghent murder their -bailiff in the marketplace Nor, in some things, does the common, hereditary -experience of all mankind fail to bear witness to the supernaturalism of this -hue. It cannot well be doubted, that the one visible quality in the aspect of -the dead which most appals the gazer, is the marble pallor lingering there -as if indeed that pallor were as much like the badge of consternation in the -other world, as of mortal trepidation here. And from that pallor of the dead, -we borrow the expressive hue of the shroud in which we wrap them. Nor even -in our superstitions do we fail to throw the same snowy mantle round our -phantoms all ghosts rising in a milkwhite fog Yea, while these terrors -seize us, let us add, that even the king of terrors, when personified by the -evangelist, rides on his pallid horse. Therefore, in his other moods, -symbolize whatever grand or -gracious thing he will by whiteness, no man can deny that in its profoundest -idealized significance it calls up a peculiar apparition to the soul. But -though without dissent this point be fixed, how is mortal man to account for -it? To analyse it, would seem impossible. Can we, then, by the citation of -some of those instances wherein this thing of whiteness though for the time -either wholly or in great part stripped of all direct associations calculated -to impart to it aught fearful, but, nevertheless, is found to exert over us -the same sorcery, however modified can we thus hope to light upon some -chance clue to conduct us to the hidden cause we seek? Let us try. But in a -matter like this, subtlety appeals to subtlety, and without imagination no -man can follow another into these halls. And though, doubtless, some at least -of the imaginative impressions about to be presented may have been shared by -most men, yet few perhaps were entirely conscious of them at the time, and -therefore may not be able to recall them now. Why to the man of untutored -ideality, who happens to be but loosely acquainted with the peculiar -character of the day, does the bare mention of Whitsuntide marshal in the -fancy such long, dreary, speechless processions of slowpacing pilgrims, -downcast and hooded with newfallen snow? Or, to the unread, unsophisticated -Protestant of the Middle American States, why does the passing mention of a -White Friar or a White Nun, evoke such an eyeless statue in the soul? Or what -is there apart from the traditions of dungeoned warriors and kings which -will not wholly account for it that makes the White Tower of London tell so -much more strongly on the imagination of an untravelled American, than those -other storied structures, its neighbors the Byward Tower, or even the -Bloody? And those sublimer towers, the White Mountains of New Hampshire, -whence, in peculiar moods, comes that gigantic ghostliness over the soul at -the bare mention of that name, while the thought of Virginia's Blue Ridge is -full of a soft, dewy, distant dreaminess? Or why, irrespective of all -latitudes and longitudes, does the name of the White Sea exert such a -spectralness -over the fancy, while that of the Yellow Sea lulls us with mortal thoughts of -long lacquered mild afternoons on the waves, followed by the gaudiest and yet -sleepiest of sunsets? Or, to choose a wholly unsubstantial instance, purely -addressed to the fancy, why, in reading the old fairy tales of Central -Europe, does the tall pale man of the Hartz forests, whose changeless -pallor unrestingly glides through the green of the groves why is this phantom -more terrible than all the whooping imps of the Blocksburg? Nor is it, -altogether, the remembrance of her cathedraltoppling earthquakes nor the -stampedoes of her frantic seas nor the tearlessness of arid skies that never -rain nor the sight of her wide field of leaning spires, wrenched -copestones, and crosses all adroop like canted yards of anchored fleets -and her suburban avenues of housewalls lying over upon each other, as a -tossed pack of cards it is not these things alone which make tearless Lima, -the strangest, saddest city thou can'st see. For Lima has taken the white -veil and there is a higher horror in this whiteness of her woe. Old as -Pizarro, this whiteness keeps her ruins for ever new admits not the -cheerful greenness of complete decay spreads over her broken ramparts the -rigid pallor of an apoplexy that fixes its own distortions. I know that, to -the common apprehension, this phenomenon of whiteness is not confessed to be -the prime agent in exaggerating the terror of objects otherwise terrible nor -to the unimaginative mind is there aught of terror in those appearances whose -awfulness to another mind almost solely consists in this one phenomenon, -especially when exhibited under any form at all approaching to muteness or -universality. What I mean by these two statements may perhaps be respectively -elucidated by the following examples. First The mariner, when drawing nigh -the coasts of foreign lands, if by night he hear the roar of breakers, starts -to vigilance, and feels just enough of trepidation to sharpen all his -faculties but under precisely similar circumstances, let him be called from -his hammock to view his ship sailing through a midnight sea of milky whiteness -as if from encircling headlands shoals of combed white bears were swimming -round him, then he feels -a silent, superstitious dread the shrouded phantom of the whitened waters is -horrible to him as a real ghost in vain the lead assures him he is still off -soundings heart and helm they both go down he never rests till blue water -is under him again. Yet where is the mariner who will tell thee, Sir, it was -not so much the fear of striking hidden rocks, as the fear of that hideous -whiteness that so stirred me? Second To the native Indian of Peru, the -continual sight of the snowhowdahed Andes conveys naught of dread, except, -perhaps, in the mere fancying of the eternal frosted desolateness reigning at -such vast altitudes, and the natural conceit of what a fearfulness it would -be to lose oneself in such inhuman solitudes. Much the same is it with the -backwoodsman of the West, who with comparative indifference views an -unbounded prairie sheeted with driven snow, no shadow of tree or twig to -break the fixed trance of whiteness. Not so the sailor, beholding the -scenery of the Antarctic seas where at times, by some infernal trick of -legerdemain in the powers of frost and air, he, shivering and half -shipwrecked, instead of rainbows speaking hope and solace to his misery, -views what seems a boundless churchyard grinning upon him with its lean ice -monuments and splintered crosses. But thou sayest, methinks this whitelead -chapter about whiteness is but a white flag hung out from a craven soul thou -surrenderest to a hypo, Ishmael. Tell me, why this strong young colt, foaled -in some peaceful valley of Vermont, far removed from all beasts of prey why -is it that upon the sunniest day, if you but shake a fresh buffalo robe -behind him, so that he cannot even see it, but only smells its wild animal -muskiness why will he start, snort, and with bursting eyes paw the ground in -phrensies of affright? There is no remembrance in him of any gorings of wild -creatures in his green northern home, so that the strange muskiness he smells -cannot recall to him anything associated with the experience of former -perils for what knows he, this New England colt, of the black bisons of -distant oregon? no but here thou beholdest even in a dumb brute, the -instinct of the knowledge of the demonism in the world. Though -thousands of miles from Oregon, still when he smells that savage musk, the -rending, goring bison herds are as present as to the deserted wild foal of the -prairies, which this instant they may be trampling into dust. Thus, then, -the muffled rollings of a milky sea the bleak rustlings of the festooned -frosts of mountains the desolate shiftings of the windrowed snows of -prairies all these, to Ishmael, are as the shaking of that buffalo robe to -the frightened colt Though neither knows where lie the nameless things of -which the mystic sign gives forth such hints yet with me, as with the colt, -somewhere those things must exist. Though in many of its aspects this visible -world seems formed in love, the invisible spheres were formed in fright. But -not yet have we solved the incantation of this whiteness, and learned why it -appeals with such power to the soul and more strange and far more portentous -why, as we have seen, it is at once the most meaning symbol of spiritual -things, nay, the very veil of the Christian's Deity and yet should be as it -is, the intensifying agent in things the most appalling to mankind. Is it -that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and -immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought -of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, -that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of -color, and at the same time the concrete of all colors is it for these -reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide -landscape of snows a colorless, allcolor of atheism from which we shrink? -And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all -other earthly hues every stately or lovely emblazoning the sweet tinges of -sunset skies and woods yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the -butterfly cheeks of young girls all these are but subtile deceits, not -actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without so that all -deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover -nothing but the charnelhouse within and when we proceed further, and -consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the -great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and -if -operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and -roses, with its own blank tinge pondering all this, the palsied universe lies -before us a leper and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear -colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes -himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect -around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder -ye then at the fiery hunt? -With reference to the Polar bear, it may possibly be urged by him who would -fain go still deeper into this matter, that it is not the whiteness, -separately regarded, which heightens the intolerable hideousness of that -brute for, analysed, that heightened hideousness, it might be said, only -arises from the circumstance, that the irresponsible ferociousness of the -creature stands invested in the fleece of celestial innocence and love and -hence, by bringing together two such opposite emotions in our minds, the -Polar bear frightens us with so unnatural a contrast. But even assuming all -this to be true yet, were it not for the whiteness, you would not have -that intensified terror. As for the white shark, the white gliding -ghostliness of repose in that creature, when beheld in his ordinary moods, -strangely tallies with the same quality in the Polar quadruped. This -peculiarity is most vividly hit by the French in the name they bestow upon -that fish. The Romish mass for the dead begins with Requiem eternam -eternal rest, whence Requiem denominating the mass itself, and any -other funereal music. Now, in allusion to the white, silent stillness of -death in this shark, and the mild deadliness of his habits, the French -call him Requin. I remember the first albatross I ever saw. It was during a -prolonged gale, in waters hard upon the Antarctic seas. From my forenoon -watch below, I ascended to the overclouded deck and there, dashed upon the -main hatches, I saw a regal, feathery thing of unspotted whiteness, and -with a hooked, Roman bill sublime. At intervals, it arched forth its vast -archangel wings, as if to embrace some holy ark. Wondrous flutterings and -throbbings shook it. Though bodily unharmed, it uttered cries, as some -king's ghost in supernatural distress. Through its inexpressible, strange -eyes, methought I peeped to secrets which took hold of God. As Abraham -before the angels, I bowed myself the white thing was so white, its wings -so wide, and in those for ever exiled waters, I had lost the miserable -warping memories of traditions and of towns. Long I gazed at that prodigy -of plumage. I cannot tell, can only hint, the things that darted through me -then. But at last I awoke and turning, asked a sailor what bird was this. -A goney, he replied. Goney I never had heard that name before is it -conceivable that this glorious thing is utterly unknown to men ashore -never But some time after, I learned that goney was some seaman's name for -albatross. So that by no possibility could Coleridge's wild Rhyme have had -aught to do with those mystical impressions which were mine, when I saw -that bird upon our deck. For neither had I then read the Rhyme, nor knew -the bird to be an albatross. Yet, in saying this, I do but indirectly -burnish a little brighter the noble merit of the poem and the poet. I -assert, then, that in the wondrous bodily whiteness of the bird chiefly -lurks the secret of the spell a truth the more evinced in this, that by a -solecism of terms there are birds called grey albatrosses and these I have -frequently seen, but never with such emotions as when I beheld the Antarctic -fowl. But how had the mystic thing been caught? Whisper it not, and I will -tell with a treacherous hook and line, as the fowl floated on the sea. At -last the Captain made a postman of it tying a lettered, leathern tally -round its neck, with the ship's time and place and then letting it escape. -But I doubt not, that leathern tally, meant for man, was taken off in -Heaven, when the white fowl flew to join the wingfolding, the invoking, and -adoring cherubim - Hist Did you hear that noise, Cabaco? -It was the middlewatch a fair moonlight the seamen were standing in a -cordon, extending from one of the freshwater butts in the waist, to the -scuttlebutt near the taffrail. In this manner, they passed the buckets to -fill the scuttlebutt. Standing, for the most part, on the hallowed precincts -of the quarterdeck, they were careful not to speak or rustle their feet. -From hand to hand, the buckets went in the deepest silence, only broken by -the occasional flap of a sail, and the steady hum of the unceasingly -advancing keel. It was in the midst of this repose, that Archy, one of the -cordon, whose post was near the afterhatches, whispered to his neighbor, a -Cholo, the words above. Hist did you hear that noise, Cabaco? Take the -bucket, will ye, Archy? what noise d'ye mean? There it is again under the -hatches don't you hear it a coughit sounded like a cough. Cough be -damned Pass along that return bucket. There again there it is it sounds -like two or three sleepers turning over, now Caramba have done, -shipmate, will ye? It's the three soaked biscuits ye eat for supper turning -over inside of ye nothing else. Look to the bucket -Say what ye will, shipmate I've sharp ears. Aye, you are the chap, ain't -ye, that heard the hum of the old Quakeress's knittingneedles fifty miles at -sea from Nantucket you're the chap. Grin away we'll see what turns up. -Hark ye, Cabaco, there is somebody down in the afterhold that has not yet -been seen on deck and I suspect our old Mogul knows something of it too. I -heard Stubb tell Flask, one morning watch, that there was something of that -sort in the wind. Tish the bucket -Had you followed Captain Ahab down into his -cabin after the squall that took place on the night succeeding that wild -ratification of his purpose with his crew, you would have seen him go to a -locker in the transom, and bringing out a large wrinkled roll of yellowish -sea charts, spread them before him on his screweddown table. Then seating -himself before it, you would have seen him intently study the various lines -and shadings which there met his eye and with slow but steady pencil trace -additional courses over spaces that before were blank. At intervals, he would -refer to piles of old logbooks beside him, wherein were set down the seasons -and places in which, on various former voyages of various ships, sperm whales -had been captured or seen. While thus employed, the heavy pewter lamp -suspended in chains over his head, continually rocked with the motion of the -ship, and for ever threw shifting gleams and shadows of lines upon his -wrinkled brow, till it almost seemed that while he himself was marking out -lines and courses on the wrinkled charts, some invisible pencil was also -tracing lines and courses upon the deeply marked chart of his forehead. But -it was not this night in particular that, in the solitude of -his cabin, Ahab thus pondered over his charts. Almost every night they were -brought out almost every night some pencil marks were effaced, and others -were substituted. For with the charts of all four oceans before him, Ahab -was threading a maze of currents and eddies, with a view to the more certain -accomplishment of that monomaniac thought of his soul. Now, to any one not -fully acquainted with the ways of the leviathans, it might seem an absurdly -hopeless task thus to seek out one solitary creature in the unhooped oceans of -this planet. But not so did it seem to Ahab, who knew the sets of all tides -and currents and thereby calculating the driftings of the sperm whale's -food and, also, calling to mind the regular, ascertained seasons for hunting -him in particular latitudes could arrive at reasonable surmises, almost -approaching to certainties, concerning the timeliest day to be upon this or -that ground in search of his prey. So assured, indeed, is the fact concerning -the periodicalness of the sperm whale's resorting to given waters, that many -hunters believe that, could he be closely observed and studied throughout the -world were the logs for one voyage of the entire whale fleet carefully -collated, then the migrations of the sperm whale would be found to correspond -in invariability to those of the herringshoals or the flights of swallows. -On this hint, attempts have been made to construct elaborate migratory charts -of the sperm whale. Besides, when making a passage from one feedingground to -another, the sperm whales, guided by some infallible instinct say, rather, -secret intelligence from the Deity mostly swim in -veins, as they are called continuing their way along a given oceanline -with such undeviating exactitude, that no ship ever sailed her course, by any -chart, with one tithe of such marvellous precision. Though, in these cases, -the direction taken by any one whale be straight as a surveyor's parallel, and -though the line of advance be strictly confined to its own unavoidable, -straight wake, yet the arbitrary vein in which at these times he is said to -swim, generally embraces some few miles in width more or less, as the vein -is presumed to expand or contract but never exceeds the visual sweep from -the whaleship's mastheads, when circumspectly gliding along this magic -zone. The sum is, that at particular seasons within that breadth and along -that path, migrating whales may with great confidence be looked for. And -hence not only at substantiated times, upon well known separate -feedinggrounds, could Ahab hope to encounter his prey but in crossing the -widest expanses of water between those grounds he could, by his art, so place -and time himself on his way, as even then not to be wholly without prospect of -a meeting. There was a circumstance which at first sight seemed to entangle -his delirious but still methodical scheme. But not so in the reality, -perhaps. Though the gregarious sperm whales have their regular seasons for -particular grounds, yet in general you cannot conclude that the herds which -hunted such and such a latitude or longitude this year, say, will turn out to -be identically the same with those that were found there the preceding -season though there are peculiar and unquestionable instances where the -contrary of this has proved true. In general, the same remark, only within a -less wide limit, applies to the solitaries and hermits among the matured, aged -sperm whales. So that though Moby Dick had in a former year been seen, for -example, on what is called the Seychelle ground in the Indian ocean, or -Volcano Bay on the Japanese Coast yet it did not follow, that were the -pequod to visit either of those spots at any subsequent corresponding season, -she would infallibly encounter him there. So, too, with some other feeding -grounds, where he had at times revealed himself. But all these seemed only -his casual stoppingplaces and oceaninns, so to speak, not his places of -prolonged abode. And where Ahab's chances of accomplishing -his object have hitherto been spoken of, allusion has only been made to -whatever wayside, antecedent, extra prospects were his, ere a particular set -time or place were attained, when all possibilities would become -probabilities, and, as Ahab fondly thought, every possibility the next thing -to a certainty. That particular set time and place were conjoined in the one -technical phrase the SeasonontheLine. For there and then, for several -consecutive years, Moby Dick had been periodically descried, lingering in -those waters for awhile, as the sun, in its annual round, loiters for a -predicted interval in any one sign of the Zodiac. There it was, too, that -most of the deadly encounters with the white whale had taken place there the -waves were storied with his deeds there also was that tragic spot where the -monomaniac old man had found the awful motive to his vengeance. But in the -cautious comprehensiveness and unloitering vigilance with which Ahab threw his -brooding soul into this unfaltering hunt, he would not permit himself to rest -all his hopes upon the one crowning fact above mentioned, however flattering -it might be to those hopes nor in the sleeplessness of his vow could he so -tranquillize his unquiet heart as to postpone all intervening quest. Now, -the Pequod had sailed from Nantucket at the very beginning of the -SeasonontheLine. No possible endeavor then could enable her commander to -make the great passage southwards, double Cape Horn, and then running down -sixty degrees of latitude arrive in the equatorial Pacific in time to cruise -there. Therefore, he must wait for the next ensuing season. Yet the -premature hour of the Pequod's sailing had, perhaps, been correctly selected -by Ahab, with a view to this very complexion of things. Because, an interval -of three hundred and sixtyfive days and nights was before him an interval -which, instead of impatiently enduring ashore, he would spend in a -miscellaneous hunt if by chance the White Whale, spending his vacation in -seas far remote from his periodical feedinggrounds, should turn up his -wrinkled brow off the Persian Gulf, or in the Bengal Bay, or China Seas, or -in any other waters haunted by his race. So that Monsoons, Pampas, -NorWesters, Harmattans, Trades any wind but the Levanter and Simoom, might -blow Moby Dick into -the devious zigzag worldcircle of the Pequod's circumnavigating wake. But -granting all this yet, regarded discreetly and coolly, seems it not but a -mad idea, this that in the broad boundless ocean, one solitary whale, even -if encountered, should be thought capable of individual recognition from his -hunter, even as a whitebearded Mufti in the thronged thoroughfares of -Constantinople? Yes. For the peculiar snowwhite brow of Moby Dick, and his -snowwhite hump, could not but be unmistakable. And have I not tallied the -whale, Ahab would mutter to himself, as after poring over his charts till -long after midnight he would throw himself back in reveries tallied him, -and shall he escape? His broad fins are bored, and scalloped out like a lost -sheep's ear And here, his mad mind would run on in a breathless race till -a weariness and faintness of pondering came over him and in the open air of -the deck he would seek to recover his strength. Ah, God what trances of -torments does that man endure who is consumed with one unachieved revengeful -desire. He sleeps with clenched hands and wakes with his own bloody nails -in his palms. often, when forced from his hammock by exhausting and -intolerably vivid dreams of the night, which, resuming his own intense -thoughts through the day, carried them on amid a clashing of phrensies, and -whirled them round and round in his blazing brain, till the very throbbing of -his lifespot became insufferable anguish and when, as was sometimes the -case, these spiritual throes in him heaved his being up from its base, and a -chasm seemed opening in him, from which forked flames and lightnings shot up, -and accursed fiends beckoned him to leap down among them when this hell in -himself yawned beneath him, a wild cry would be heard through the ship and -with glaring eyes Ahab would burst from his state room, as though escaping -from a bed that was on fire. Yet these, perhaps, instead of being the -unsuppressable symptoms of some latent weakness, or fright at his own resolve, -were but the plainest tokens of its intensity. For, at such times, crazy -Ahab, the scheming, unappeasedly steadfast hunter of the white whale this -Ahab that had gone to his hammock, was not the agent that so caused -him to burst from it in horror again. The latter was the eternal, living -principle or soul in him and in sleep, being for the time dissociated from -the characterizing mind, which at other times employed it for its outer -vehicle or agent, it spontaneously sought escape from the scorching contiguity -of the frantic thing, of which, for the time, it was no longer an integral. -But as the mind does not exist unless leagued with the soul, therefore it -must have been that, in Ahab's case, yielding up all his thoughts and fancies -to his one supreme purpose that purpose, by its own sheer inveteracy of -will, forced itself against gods and devils into a kind of selfassumed, -independent being of its own. Nay, could grimly live and burn, while the -common vitality to which it was conjoined, fled horrorstricken from the -unbidden and unfathered birth. Therefore, the tormented spirit that glared -out of bodily eyes, when what seemed Ahab rushed from his room, was for the -time but a vacated thing, a formless somnambulistic being, a ray of living -light, to be sure, but without an object to color, and therefore a blankness -in itself. God help thee, old man, thy thoughts have created a creature in -thee and he whose intense thinking thus makes him a Prometheus a vulture -feeds upon that heart for ever that vulture the very creature he creates. -Since the above was written, the statement is happily borne out by an official -circular, issued by Lieutenant Maury, of the National Observatory, -Washington, April th, -. By that circular, it appears that precisely -such a chart is in course of completion and portions of it are presented in -the circular. This chart divides the ocean into districts of five degrees -of latitude by five degrees of longitude perpendicularly through each of -which districts are twelve columns for the twelve months and horizontally -through each of which districts are three lines one to show the number of -days that have been spent in each month in every district, and the two -others to show the number of days in which whales, sperm or right, have been -seen. -So far as what there may be of a -narrative in this book and, indeed, as indirectly touching one or two very -interesting and curious particulars in the habits of sperm whales, the -foregoing chapter, in its earliest part, is as important a one as will be -found in this volume but the leading matter of it requires to be still -further and more familiarly enlarged upon, in order to be adequately -understood, and moreover to take away any incredulity which a profound -ignorance of the entire subject may -induce in some minds, as to the natural verity of the main points of this -affair. I care not to perform this part of my task methodically but shall -be content to produce the desired impression by separate citations of items, -practically or reliably known to me as a whaleman and from these citations, -I take it the conclusion aimed at will naturally follow of itself. First I -have personally known three instances where a whale, after receiving a -harpoon, has effected a complete escape and, after an interval in one -instance of three years, has been again struck by the same hand, and slain -when the two irons, both marked by the same private cypher, have been taken -from the body. In the instance where three years intervened between the -flinging of the two harpoons and I think it may have been something more -than that the man who darted them happening, in the interval, to go in a -trading ship on a voyage to Africa, went ashore there, joined a discovery -party, and penetrated far into the interior, where he travelled for a period -of nearly two years, often endangered by serpents, savages, tigers, poisonous -miasmas, with all the other common perils incident to wandering in the heart -of unknown regions. Meanwhile, the whale he had struck must also have been on -its travels no doubt it had thrice circumnavigated the globe, brushing with -its flanks all the coasts of Africa but to no purpose. This man and this -whale again came together, and the one vanquished the other. I say I, -myself, have known three instances similar to this that is in two of them I -saw the whales struck and, upon the second attack, saw the two irons with -the respective marks cut in them, afterwards taken from the dead fish. In the -threeyear instance, it so fell out that I was in the boat both times, first -and last, and the last time distinctly recognized a peculiar sort of huge -mole under the whale's eye, which I had observed there three years previous. -I say three years, but I am pretty sure it was more than that. Here are -three instances, then, which I personally know the truth of but I have heard -of many other instances from persons whose veracity in the matter there is no -good ground to impeach. secondly It is well known in the Sperm Whale -Fishery, -however ignorant the world ashore may be of it, that there have been several -memorable historical instances where a particular whale in the ocean has been -at distant times and places popularly cognisable. Why such a whale became -thus marked was not altogether and originally owing to his bodily -peculiarities as distinguished from other whales for however peculiar in -that respect any chance whale may be, they soon put an end to his -peculiarities by killing him, and boiling him down into a peculiarly valuable -oil. No the reason was this that from the fatal experiences of the -fishery there hung a terrible prestige of perilousness about such a whale as -there did about Rinaldo Rinaldini, insomuch that most fishermen were -content to recognise him by merely touching their tarpaulins when he would be -discovered lounging by them on the sea, without seeking to cultivate a more -intimate acquaintance. Like some poor devils ashore that happen to know an -irascible great man, they make distant unobtrusive salutations to him in the -street, lest if they pursued the acquaintance further, they might receive a -summary thump for their presumption. But not only did each of these famous -whales enjoy great individual celebrity nay, you may call it an oceanwide -renown not only was he famous in life and now is immortal in forecastle -stories after death, but he was admitted into all the rights, privileges, -and distinctions of a name had as much a name indeed as Cambyses or Caesar. -Was it not so, O Timor Tom thou famed leviathan, scarred like an iceberg, -who so long did'st lurk in the Oriental straits of that name, whose spout was -oft seen from the palmy beach of Ombay? Was it not so, O New Zealand Jack -thou terror of all cruisers that crossed their wakes in the vicinity of the -Tattoo Land? Was it not so, O Morquan King of Japan, whose lofty jet -they say at times assumed the semblance of a snowwhite cross against the sky? -Was it not so, O Don Miguel thou Chilian whale, marked like an old -tortoise with mystic hieroglyphics upon the back In plain prose, here are -four whales as well known to the students of Cetacean History as Marius or -Sylla to the classic scholar. But this is not all. New Zealand Tom and Don -Miguel, after at various times creating great havoc among the boats of -different -vessels, were finally gone in quest of, systematically hunted out, chased and -killed by valiant whaling captains, who heaved up their anchors with that -express object as much in view, as in setting out through the Narragansett -Woods, Captain Butler of old had it in his mind to capture that notorious -murderous savage Annawon, the headmost warrior of the Indian King Philip. I -do not know where I can find a better place than just here, to make mention of -one or two other things, which to me seem important, as in printed form -establishing in all respects the reasonableness of the whole story of the -White Whale, more especially the catastrophe. For this is one of those -disheartening instances where truth requires full as much bolstering as error. -So ignorant are most landsmen of some of the plainest and most palpable -wonders of the world, that without some hints touching the plain facts, -historical and otherwise, of the fishery, they might scout at Moby Dick as a -monstrous fable, or still worse and more detestable, a hideous and -intolerable allegory. First Though most men have some vague flitting ideas -of the general perils of the grand fishery, yet they have nothing like a -fixed, vivid conception of those perils, and the frequency with which they -recur. One reason perhaps is, that not one in fifty of the actual disasters -and deaths by casualties in the fishery, ever finds a public record at home, -however transient and immediately forgotten that record. Do you suppose that -that poor fellow there, who this moment perhaps caught by the whaleline off -the coast of New Guinea, is being carried down to the bottom of the sea by -the sounding leviathan do you suppose that that poor fellow's name will -appear in the newspaper obituary you will read tomorrow at your breakfast? -No because the mails are very irregular between here and New Guinea. In -fact, did you ever hear what might be called regular news direct or indirect -from New Guinea? Yet I tell you that upon one particular voyage which I made -to the Pacific, among many others we spoke thirty different ships, every one -of which had had a death by a whale, some of them more than one, and three -that had each lost a boat's crew. For God's sake, be economical with your -lamps and candles not a gallon you burn, but at least one drop of man's -blood was spilled for it. -Secondly People ashore have indeed some indefinite idea that a whale is an -enormous creature of enormous power but I have ever found that when -narrating to them some specific example of this twofold enormousness, they -have significantly complimented me upon my facetiousness when, I declare -upon my soul, I had no more idea of being facetious than Moses, when he wrote -the history of the plagues of Egypt. But fortunately the special point I here -seek can be established upon testimony entirely independent of my own. That -point is this The Sperm Whale is in some cases sufficiently powerful, -knowing, and judiciously malicious, as with direct aforethought to stave in, -utterly destroy, and sink a large ship and what is more, the Sperm Whale has -done it. First In the year -the ship Essex, Captain Pollard, of -Nantucket, was cruising in the Pacific Ocean. One day she saw spouts, -lowered her boats, and gave chase to a shoal of sperm whales. Ere long, -several of the whales were wounded when, suddenly, a very large whale -escaping from the boats, issued from the shoal, and bore directly down upon -the ship. dashing his forehead against her hull, he so stove her in, that -in less than ten minutes she settled down and fell over. Not a surviving -plank of her has been seen since. After the severest exposure, part of the -crew reached the land in their boats. Being returned home at last, Captain -Pollard once more sailed for the Pacific in command of another ship, but the -gods shipwrecked him again upon unknown rocks and breakers for the second -time his ship was utterly lost, and forthwith forswearing the sea, he has -never tempted it since. At this day Captain Pollard is a resident of -Nantucket. I have seen Owen Chace, who was chief mate of the Essex at the -time of the tragedy I have read his plain and faithful narrative I have -conversed with his son and all this within a few miles of the scene of the -catastrophe. -Secondly The ship Union, also of Nantucket, was in the year -totally -lost off the Azores by a similar onset, but the authentic particulars of -this catastrophe I have never chanced to encounter, though from the whale -hunters I have now and then heard casual allusions to it. Thirdly Some -eighteen or twenty years ago Commodore J then commanding an American -sloopofwar of the first class, happened to be dining with a party of -whaling captains, on board a Nantucket ship in the harbor of Oahu, Sandwich -Islands. Conversation turning upon whales, the Commodore was pleased to be -sceptical touching the amazing strength ascribed to them by the professional -gentlemen present. He peremptorily denied for example, that any whale could -so smite his stout sloopofwar as to cause her to leak so much as a -thimbleful. Very good but there is more coming. Some weeks after, the -commodore set sail in this impregnable craft for Valparaiso. But he was -stopped on the way by a portly sperm whale, that begged a few moments' -confidential business with him. that business consisted in fetching the -Commodore's craft -such a thwack, that with all his pumps going he made straight for the nearest -port to heave down and repair. I am not superstitious, but I consider the -Commodore's interview with that whale as providential. Was not Saul of Tarsus -converted from unbelief by a similar fright? I tell you, the sperm whale will -stand no nonsense. I will now refer you to Langsdorff's Voyages for a little -circumstance in point, peculiarly interesting to the writer hereof. -Langsdorff, you must know by the way, was attached to the Russian Admiral -Krusenstern's famous Discovery Expedition in the beginning of the present -century. Captain Langsdorff thus begins his seventeenth chapter. By the -thirteenth of May our ship was ready to sail, and the next day we were out in -the open sea, on our way to Ochotsh. The weather was very clear and fine, -but so intolerably cold that we were obliged to keep on our fur clothing. For -some days we had very little wind it was not till the nineteenth that a -brisk gale from the northwest sprang up. An uncommon large whale, the body -of which was larger than the ship itself, lay almost at the surface of the -water, but was not perceived by any one on board till the moment when the -ship, which was in full sail, was almost upon him, so that it was -impossible to prevent its striking against him. We were thus placed in the -most imminent danger, as this gigantic creature, setting up its back, -raised the ship three feet at least out of the water. The masts reeled, and -the sails fell altogether, while we who were below all sprang instantly upon -the deck, concluding that we had struck upon some rock instead of this we -saw the monster sailing off with the utmost gravity and solemnity. Captain -D'Wolf applied immediately to the pumps to examine whether or not the vessel -had received any damage from the shock, but we found that very happily it had -escaped entirely uninjured. now, the captain d'wolf here alluded to as -commanding the ship in question, is a New Englander, who, after a long life -of unusual adventures as a seacaptain, this day resides in the village of -Dorchester near Boston. I have the honor of being a nephew of his. I have -particularly questioned him concerning this passage in Langsdorff. He -substantiates every word. -The ship, however, was by no means a large one a Russian craft built on the -Siberian coast, and purchased by my uncle after bartering away the vessel in -which he sailed from home. In that up and down manly book of oldfashioned -adventure, so full, too, of honest wonders the voyage of Lionel Wafer, one -of ancient Dampier's old chums I found a little matter set down so like that -just quoted from Langsdorff, that I cannot forbear inserting it here for a -corroborative example, if such be needed. Lionel, it seems, was on his way -to John Ferdinando, as he calls the modern Juan Fernandes. In our way -thither, he says, about four o'clock in the morning, when we were about -one hundred and fifty leagues from the Main of America, our ship felt a -terrible shock, which put our men in such consternation that they could -hardly tell where they were or what to think but every one began to prepare -for death. And, indeed, the shock was so sudden and violent, that we took it -for granted the ship had struck against a rock but when the amazement was a -little over, we cast the lead, and sounded, but found no ground. The -suddenness of the shock made the guns leap in their carriages, and several of -the men were shaken out of their hammocks. Captain Davis, who lay with his -head on a gun, was thrown out of his cabin Lionel then goes on to impute -the shock to an earthquake, and seems to substantiate the imputation by -stating that a great earthquake, somewhere about that time, did actually do -great mischief along the spanish land. but i should not much wonder if, in the -darkness of that early hour of the morning, the shock was after all caused by -an unseen whale vertically bumping the hull from beneath. I might proceed -with several more examples, one way or another known to me, of the great -power and malice at times of the sperm whale. In more than one instance, he -has been known, not only to chase the assailing boats back to their ships, -but to pursue the ship itself, and long withstand all the lances hurled at -him from its decks. The English ship Pusie Hall can tell a story on that -head and, as for his strength, let me say, that there have been examples -where the lines attached to -a running sperm whale have, in a calm, been transferred to the ship, and -secured there the whale towing her great hull through the water, as a -horse walks off with a cart. Again, it is very often observed that, if the -sperm whale, once struck, is allowed time to rally, he then acts, not so -often with blind rage, as with wilful, deliberate designs of destruction to -his pursuers nor is it without conveying some eloquent indication of his -character, that upon being attacked he will frequently open his mouth, and -retain it in that dread expansion for several consecutive minutes. But I must -be content with only one more and a concluding illustration a remarkable and -most significant one, by which you will not fail to see, that not only is -the most marvellous event in this book corroborated by plain facts of the -present day, but that these marvels like all marvels are mere repetitions -of the ages so that for the millionth time we say amen with Solomon Verily -there is nothing new under the sun. In the sixth Christian century lived -Procopius, a Christian magistrate of Constantinople, in the days when -Justinian was Emperor and Belisarius general. As many know, he wrote the -history of his own times, a work every way of uncommon value. By the best -authorities, he has always been considered a most trustworthy and -unexaggerating historian, except in some one or two particulars, not at all -affecting the matter presently to be mentioned. Now, in this history of his, -Procopius mentions that, during the term of his prefecture at Constantinople, -a great seamonster was captured in the neighboring Propontis, or Sea of -Marmora, after having destroyed vessels at intervals in those waters for a -period of more than fifty years. A fact thus set down in substantial history -cannot easily be gainsaid. Nor is there any reason it should be. Of what -precise species this seamonster was, is not mentioned. But as he destroyed -ships, as well as for other reasons, he must have been a whale and I am -strongly inclined to think a sperm whale. And I will tell you why. For a -long time I fancied that the sperm whale had been always unknown in the -Mediterranean and the deep waters connecting with it. Even now I am certain -that those seas are not, and perhaps never can be, in the present -constitution of -things, a place for his habitual gregarious resort. But further -investigations have recently proved to me, that in modern times there have -been isolated instances of the presence of the sperm whale in the -Mediterranean. I am told, on good authority, that on the Barbary coast, a -Commodore Davis of the British navy found the skeleton of a sperm whale. Now, -as a vessel of war readily passes through the Dardanelles, hence a sperm -whale could, by the same route, pass out of the Mediterranean into the -Propontis. In the Propontis, as far as I can learn, none of that peculiar -substance called brit is to be found, the aliment of the right whale. But I -have every reason to believe that the food of the sperm whale squid or -cuttlefish lurks at the bottom of that sea, because large creatures, but -by no means the largest of that sort, have been found at its surface. If, -then, you properly put these statements together, and reason upon them a bit, -you will clearly perceive that, according to all human reasoning, -Procopius's seamonster, that for half a century stove the ships of a Roman -Emperor, must in all probability have been a sperm whale. -The following are extracts from Chace's narrative Every fact seemed to -warrant me in concluding that it was anything but chance which directed his -operations he made two several attacks upon the ship, at a short interval -between them, both of which, according to their direction, were -calculated to do us the most injury, by being made ahead, and thereby -combining the speed of the two objects for the shock to effect which, the -exact manoeuvres which he made were necessary. His aspect was most horrible, -and such as indicated resentment and fury. He came directly from the shoal -which we had just before entered, and in which we had struck three of his -companions, as if fired with revenge for their sufferings. Again At all -events, the whole circumstances taken together, all happening before my own -eyes, and producing, at the time, impressions in my mind of decided, -calculating mischief, on the part of the whale many of which impressions I -cannot now recall, induce me to be satisfied that I am correct in my -opinion. Here are his reflections some time after quitting the ship, during -a black night in an open boat, when almost despairing of reaching any -hospitable shore. The dark ocean and swelling waters were nothing the -fears of being swallowed up by some dreadful tempest, or dashed upon hidden -rocks, with all the other ordinary subjects of fearful contemplation, -seemed scarcely entitled to a moment's thought the dismal looking wreck, -and the horrid aspect and revenge of the whale, wholly engrossed my -reflections, until day again made its appearance. In another place p. , -he speaks of the mysterious and mortal attack of the animal. -Though, consumed with the hot fire of his -purpose, Ahab in all his thoughts and actions ever had in view the ultimate -capture of Moby Dick though he seemed ready to sacrifice all mortal -interests to that one passion nevertheless it may have been that he was by -nature and long habituation far too wedded to a fiery whaleman's ways, -altogether to abandon the collateral prosecution of the voyage. Or at least -if this were otherwise, there were not wanting other motives much more -influential with him. It would be refining too much, perhaps, even -considering his monomania, to hint that his vindictiveness towards -the White Whale might have possibly extended itself in some degree to all -sperm whales, and that the more monsters he slew by so much the more he -multiplied the chances that each subsequently encountered whale would prove to -be the hated one he hunted. But if such an hypothesis be indeed -exceptionable, there were still additional considerations which, though not -so strictly according with the wildness of his ruling passion, yet were by -no means incapable of swaying him. To accomplish his object Ahab must use -tools and of all tools used in the shadow of the moon, men are most apt to -get out of order. He knew, for example, that however magnetic his ascendency -in some respects was over Starbuck, yet that ascendency did not cover the -complete spiritual man any more than mere corporeal superiority involves -intellectual mastership for to the purely spiritual, the intellectual but -stand in a sort of corporeal relation. Starbuck's body and Starbuck's coerced -will were Ahab's, so long as Ahab kept his magnet at Starbuck's brain -still he knew that for all this the chief mate, in his soul, abhorred his -captain's quest, and could he, would joyfully disintegrate himself from it, -or even frustrate it. it might be that a long interval would elapse ere the -White Whale was seen. During that long interval Starbuck would ever be apt to -fall into open relapses of rebellion against his captain's leadership, unless -some ordinary, prudential, circumstantial influences were brought to bear upon -him. Not only that, but the subtle insanity of Ahab respecting Moby Dick was -noways more significantly manifested than in his superlative sense and -shrewdness in foreseeing that, for the present, the hunt should in some way -be stripped of that strange imaginative impiousness which naturally invested -it that the full terror of the voyage must be kept withdrawn into the -obscure background for few men's courage is proof against protracted -meditation unrelieved by action that when they stood their long night -watches, his officers and men must have some nearer things to think of than -Moby Dick. For however eagerly and impetuously the savage crew had hailed the -announcement of his quest yet all sailors of all sorts are more or less -capricious and unreliable they live in the varying outer weather, and they -inhale its fickleness and when retained -for any object remote and blank in the pursuit, however promissory of life -and passion in the end, it is above all things requisite that temporary -interests and employment should intervene and hold them healthily suspended -for the final dash. Nor was Ahab unmindful of another thing. In times of -strong emotion mankind disdain all base considerations but such times are -evanescent. The permanent constitutional condition of the manufactured man, -thought Ahab, is sordidness. Granting that the White Whale fully incites the -hearts of this my savage crew, and playing round their savageness even breeds -a certain generous knighterrantism in them, still, while for the love of it -they give chase to Moby Dick, they must also have food for their more common, -daily appetites. For even the high lifted and chivalric Crusaders of old -times were not content to traverse two thousand miles of land to fight for -their holy sepulchre, without committing burglaries, picking pockets, and -gaining other pious perquisites by the way. Had they been strictly held to -their one final and romantic object that final and romantic object, too many -would have turned from in disgust. I will not strip these men, thought Ahab, -of all hopes of cash aye, cash. They may scorn cash now but let some months -go by, and no perspective promise of it to them, and then this same -quiescent cash all at once mutinying in them, this same cash would soon -cashier Ahab. Nor was there wanting still another precautionary motive more -related to Ahab personally. Having impulsively, it is probable, and perhaps -somewhat prematurely revealed the prime but private purpose of the Pequod's -voyage, Ahab was now entirely conscious that, in so doing, he had indirectly -laid himself open to the unanswerable charge of usurpation and with perfect -impunity, both moral and legal, his crew if so disposed, and to that end -competent, could refuse all further obedience to him, and even violently -wrest from him the command. From even the barely hinted imputation of -usurpation, and the possible consequences of such a suppressed impression -gaining ground, Ahab must of course have been most anxious to protect himself. -That protection could only consist in his own predominating brain and heart -and hand, backed by a heedful, closely calculating -attention to every minute atmospheric influence which it was possible for his -crew to be subjected to. For all these reasons then, and others perhaps too -analytic to be verbally developed here, Ahab plainly saw that he must still -in a good degree continue true to the natural, nominal purpose of the Pequod's -voyage observe all customary usages and not only that, but force himself -to evince all his well known passionate interest in the general pursuit of his -profession. be all this as it may, his voice was now often heard hailing the -three mastheads and admonishing them to keep a bright lookout, and not omit -reporting even a porpoise. This vigilance was not long without reward. -It was a cloudy, sultry afternoon -the seamen were lazily lounging about the decks, or vacantly gazing over -into the leadcolored waters. Queequeg and I were mildly employed weaving -what is called a swordmat, for an additional lashing to our boat. So still -and subdued and yet somehow preluding was all the scene, and such an -incantation of revery lurked in the air, that each silent sailor seemed -resolved into his own invisible self. I was the attendant or page of -Queequeg, while busy at the mat. As I kept passing and repassing the -filling or woof of marline between the long yarns of the warp, using my own -hand for the shuttle, and as Queequeg, standing sideways, ever and anon slid -his heavy oaken sword between the threads, and idly looking off upon the -water, carelessly and unthinkingly drove home every yarn I say so strange a -dreaminess did there then reign all over the ship and all over the sea, only -broken by the intermitting dull sound of the sword, that it seemed as if this -were the Loom of Time, and I myself were a shuttle mechanically weaving and -weaving away at the Fates. There lay the fixed -threads of the warp subject to but one single, ever returning, unchanging -vibration, and that vibration merely enough to admit of the crosswise -interblending of other threads with its own. This warp seemed necessity and -here, thought I, with my own hand I ply my own shuttle and weave my own -destiny into these unalterable threads. Meantime, Queequeg's impulsive, -indifferent sword, sometimes hitting the woof slantingly, or crookedly, or -strongly, or weakly, as the case might be and by this difference in the -concluding blow producing a corresponding contrast in the final aspect of the -completed fabric this savage's sword, thought I, which thus finally shapes -and fashions both warp and woof this easy, indifferent sword must be chance -aye, chance, free will, and necessity no wise incompatible all -interweavingly working together. The straight warp of necessity, not to be -swerved from its ultimate course its every alternating vibration, indeed, -only tending to that free will still free to ply her shuttle between given -threads and chance, though restrained in its play within the right lines of -necessity, and sideways in its motions directed by free will, though thus -prescribed to by both, chance by turns rules either, and has the last -featuring blow at events. Thus we were weaving and weaving away when I started -at a sound so strange, long drawn, and musically wild and unearthly, that the -ball of free will dropped from my hand, and I stood gazing up at the clouds -whence that voice dropped like a wing. High aloft in the crosstrees was that -mad GayHeader, Tashtego. His body was reaching eagerly forward, his hand -stretched out like a wand, and at brief sudden intervals he continued his -cries. To be sure the same sound was that very moment perhaps being heard all -over the seas, from hundreds of whalemen's lookouts perched as high in the -air but from few of those lungs could that accustomed old cry have derived -such a marvellous cadence as from Tashtego the Indian's. As he stood hovering -over you half suspended in air, so wildly and eagerly peering towards the -horizon, you would have thought him some prophet or seer beholding the -shadows of Fate, and by those wild cries announcing their coming. There she -blows there there there she blows she blows -Whereaway? On the leebeam, about two miles off a school of them -Instantly all was commotion. The Sperm Whale blows as a clock ticks, with the -same undeviating and reliable uniformity. And thereby whalemen distinguish -this fish from other tribes of his genus. There go flukes was now the cry -from Tashtego and the whales disappeared. Quick, steward cried Ahab. -Time time DoughBoy hurried below, glanced at the watch, and reported -the exact minute to Ahab. The ship was now kept away from the wind, and she -went gently rolling before it. Tashtego reporting that the whales had gone -down heading to leeward, we confidently looked to see them again directly in -advance of our bows. For that singular craft at times evinced by the Sperm -Whale when, sounding with his head in one direction, he nevertheless, while -concealed beneath the surface, mills round, and swiftly swims off in the -opposite quarter this deceitfulness of his could not now be in action for -there was no reason to suppose that the fish seen by Tashtego had been in any -way alarmed, or indeed knew at all of our vicinity. One of the men selected -for shipkeepers that is, those not appointed to the boats, by this time -relieved the Indian at the mainmast head. The sailors at the fore and -mizzen had come down the line tubs were fixed in their places the cranes -were thrust out the mainyard was backed, and the three boats swung over the -sea like three samphire baskets over high cliffs. Outside of the bulwarks -their eager crews with one hand clung to the rail, while one foot was -expectantly poised on the gunwale. So look the long line of manofwar's men -about to throw themselves on board an enemy's ship. But at this critical -instant a sudden exclamation was heard that took every eye from the whale. -With a start all glared at dark Ahab, who was surrounded by five dusky -phantoms that seemed fresh formed out of air. -The phantoms, for so they then -seemed, were flitting on the other side of the deck, and, with a noiseless -celerity, were casting loose the tackles and bands of the boat which swung -there. This boat had always been deemed one of the spare boats, though -technically called the captain's, on account of its hanging from the -starboard quarter. The figure that now stood by its bows was tall and swart, -with one white tooth evilly protruding from its steellike lips. A rumpled -Chinese jacket of black cotton funereally invested him, with wide black -trowsers of the same dark stuff. But strangely crowning his ebonness was a -glistening white plaited turban, the living hair braided and coiled round -and round upon his head. Less swart in aspect, the companions of this figure -were of that vivid, tigeryellow complexion peculiar to some of the aboriginal -natives of the Manillas a race notorious for a certain diabolism of -subtilty, and by some honest white mariners supposed to be the paid spies and -secret confidential agents on the water of the devil, their lord, whose -countingroom they suppose to be elsewhere. While yet the wondering ship's -company were gazing upon these strangers, Ahab cried out to the -whiteturbaned old man at their head, All ready there, Fedallah? Ready, -was the halfhissed reply. Lower away then d'ye hear? shouting across the -deck. Lower away there, I say. Such was the thunder of his voice, that -spite of their amazement the men sprang over the rail the sheaves whirled -round in the blocks with a wallow, the three boats dropped into the sea -while, with a dexterous, offhanded daring, unknown in any other vocation, -the sailors, goatlike, leaped down the rolling ship's side into the tossed -boats below. Hardly had they pulled out from under the ship's lee, when -a fourth keel, coming from the windward side, pulled round under the stern, -and showed the five strangers rowing Ahab, who, standing erect in the stern, -loudly hailed Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask, to spread themselves widely, so as -to cover a large expanse of water. but with all their eyes again riveted upon -the swart Fedallah and his crew, the inmates of the other boats obeyed not -the command. Captain Ahab? said Starbuck. Spread yourselves, cried Ahab -give way, all four boats. Thou, Flask, pull out more to leeward Aye, -aye, sir, cheerily cried little KingPost, sweeping round his great steering -oar. Lay back addressing his crew. There there there again There -she blows right ahead, boys lay back Never heed yonder yellow boys, -Archy. Oh, I don't mind 'em, sir, said Archy I knew it all before now. -Didn't I hear 'em in the hold? And didn't I tell Cabaco here of it? What say -ye, Cabaco? They are stowaways, Mr. Flask. Pull, pull, my fine -heartsalive pull, my children pull, my little ones, drawingly and -soothingly sighed Stubb to his crew, some of whom still showed signs of -uneasiness. Why don't you break your backbones, my boys? What is it you -stare at? Those chaps in yonder boat? Tut They are only five more hands -come to help us never mind from where the more the merrier. Pull, then, do -pull never mind the brimstone devils are good fellows enough. So, so -there you are now that's the stroke for a thousand pounds that's the -stroke to sweep the stakes Hurrah for the gold cup of sperm oil, my heroes -Three cheers, men all hearts alive Easy, easy don't be in a hurry don't -be in a hurry. Why don't you snap your oars, you rascals? Bite something, -you dogs So, so, so, then softly, softly That's it that's it long -and strong. Give way there, give way The devil fetch ye, ye ragamuffin -rapscallions ye are all asleep. Stop snoring, ye sleepers, and pull. Pull, -will ye? pull, can't ye? pull, won't ye? Why in the name of gudgeons and -gingercakes don't ye pull? pull and break something pull, and start your -eyes out Here whipping out the sharp knife from his girdle every -mother's son of ye draw his knife, and pull with the blade between his teeth. -That's it that's it. Now ye do something that looks like it, my -steelbits. Start her start her, my silverspoons Start her, -marlingspikes Stubb's exordium to his crew is given here at large, because -he had rather a peculiar way of talking to them in general, and especially -in inculcating the religion of rowing. But you must not suppose from this -specimen of his sermonizings that he ever flew into downright passions with -his congregation. Not at all and therein consisted his chief peculiarity. -He would say the most terrific things to his crew, in a tone so strangely -compounded of fun and fury, and the fury seemed so calculated merely as a -spice to the fun, that no oarsman could hear such queer invocations without -pulling for dear life, and yet pulling for the mere joke of the thing. -Besides he all the time looked so easy and indolent himself, so loungingly -managed his steeringoar, and so broadly gaped openmouthed at times that -the mere sight of such a yawning commander, by sheer force of contrast, -acted like a charm upon the crew. Then again, Stubb was one of those odd sort -of humorists, whose jollity is sometimes so curiously ambiguous, as to put -all inferiors on their guard in the matter of obeying them. In obedience to a -sign from Ahab, Starbuck was now pulling obliquely across Stubb's bow and -when for a minute or so the two boats were pretty near to each other, Stubb -hailed the mate. Mr. Starbuck larboard boat there, ahoy a word with ye, -sir, if ye please Halloa returned Starbuck, turning round not a single -inch as he spoke still earnestly but whisperingly urging his crew his face -set like a flint from Stubb's. What think ye of those yellow boys, sir -Smuggled on board, somehow, before the ship sailed. Strong, strong, boys -in a whisper to his crew, then speaking out loud again A sad business, -Mr. Stubb seethe her, seethe her, my lads but never mind, Mr. Stubb, -all for the best. Let all your crew pull strong, come what will. Spring, my -men, spring -There's hogsheads of sperm ahead, Mr. Stubb, and that's what ye came for. -Pull, my boys Sperm, sperm's the play This at least is duty duty and -profit hand in hand Aye, aye, I thought as much, soliloquized Stubb, -when the boats diverged, as soon as I clapt eye on 'em, I thought so. Aye, -and that's what he went into the after hold for, so often, as DoughBoy long -suspected. They were hidden down there. The White Whale's at the bottom of -it. Well, well, so be it Can't be helped All right Give way, men It -ain't the White Whale today Give way Now the advent of these outlandish -strangers at such a critical instant as the lowering of the boats from the -deck, this had not unreasonably awakened a sort of superstitious amazement in -some of the ship's company but Archy's fancied discovery having some time -previous got abroad among them, though indeed not credited then, this had in -some small measure prepared them for the event. It took off the extreme edge -of their wonder and so what with all this and Stubb's confident way of -accounting for their appearance, they were for the time freed from -superstitious surmisings though the affair still left abundant room for all -manner of wild conjectures as to dark Ahab's precise agency in the matter from -the beginning. For me, I silently recalled the mysterious shadows I had seen -creeping on board the Pequod during the dim Nantucket dawn, as well as the -enigmatical hintings of the unaccountable Elijah. Meantime, Ahab, out of -hearing of his officers, having sided the furthest to windward, was still -ranging ahead of the other boats a circumstance bespeaking how potent a crew -was pulling him. those tiger yellow creatures of his seemed all steel and -whalebone like five triphammers they rose and fell with regular strokes of -strength, which periodically started the boat along the water like a -horizontal burst boiler out of a Mississippi steamer. As for Fedallah, who was -seen pulling the harpooneer oar, he had thrown aside his black jacket, and -displayed his naked chest with the whole part of his body above the gunwale, -clearly cut against the alternating depressions of the watery horizon while -at the other end of the boat Ahab, with one -arm, like a fencer's, thrown half backward into the air, as if to -counterbalance any tendency to trip Ahab was seen steadily managing his -steering oar as in a thousand boat lowerings ere the White Whale had torn him. -All at once the outstretched arm gave a peculiar motion and then remained -fixed, while the boat's five oars were seen simultaneously peaked. Boat and -crew sat motionless on the sea. Instantly the three spread boats in the rear -paused on their way. The whales had irregularly settled bodily down into the -blue, thus giving no distantly discernible token of the movement, though -from his closer vicinity Ahab had observed it. Every man look out along his -oars cried Starbuck. Thou, Queequeg, stand up Nimbly springing up on -the triangular raised box in the bow, the savage stood erect there, and with -intensely eager eyes gazed off towards the spot where the chase had last been -descried. Likewise upon the extreme stern of the boat where it was also -triangularly platformed level with the gunwale, Starbuck himself was seen -coolly and adroitly balancing himself to the jerking tossings of his chip of a -craft, and silently eyeing the vast blue eye of the sea. Not very far -distant Flask's boat was also lying breathlessly still its commander -recklessly standing upon the top of the loggerhead, a stout sort of post -rooted in the keel, and rising some two feet above the level of the stern -platform. it is used for catching turns with the whale line. Its top is not -more spacious than the palm of a man's hand, and standing upon such a base -as that, Flask seemed perched at the masthead of some ship which had sunk to -all but her trucks. But little KingPost was small and short, and at the -same time little KingPost was full of a large and tall ambition, so that -this loggerhead standpoint of his did by no means satisfy KingPost. I -can't see three seas off tip us up an oar there, and let me on to that. -Upon this, Daggoo, with either hand upon the gunwale to steady his way, -swiftly slid aft, and then erecting himself volunteered his lofty shoulders -for a pedestal. -Good a masthead as any, sir. Will you mount? That I will, and thank ye -very much, my fine fellow only I wish you fifty feet taller. Whereupon -planting his feet firmly against two opposite planks of the boat, the gigantic -negro, stooping a little, presented his flat palm to Flask's foot, and then -putting Flask's hand on his hearseplumed head and bidding him spring as he -himself should toss, with one dexterous fling landed the little man high and -dry on his shoulders. And here was Flask now standing, Daggoo with one -lifted arm furnishing him with a breastband to lean against and steady -himself by. At any time it is a strange sight to the tyro to see with what -wondrous habitude of unconscious skill the whaleman will maintain an erect -posture in his boat, even when pitched about by the most riotously perverse -and crossrunning seas. Still more strange to see him giddily perched upon -the loggerhead itself, under such circumstances. But the sight of little -Flask mounted upon gigantic Daggoo was yet more curious for sustaining -himself with a cool, indifferent, easy, unthought of, barbaric majesty, the -noble negro to every roll of the sea harmoniously rolled his fine form. On -his broad back, flaxenhaired flask seemed a snowflake. The bearer looked -nobler than the rider. Though truly vivacious, tumultuous, ostentatious -little Flask would now and then stamp with impatience but not one added -heave did he thereby give to the negro's lordly chest. So have I seen -Passion and Vanity stamping the living magnanimous earth, but the earth did -not alter her tides and her seasons for that. Meanwhile Stubb, the third mate, -betrayed no such fargazing solicitudes. The whales might have made one of -their regular soundings, not a temporary dive from mere fright and if that -were the case, Stubb, as his wont in such cases, it seems, was resolved to -solace the languishing interval with his pipe. He withdrew it from his -hatband, where he always wore it aslant like a feather. He loaded it, and -rammed home the loading with his thumbend but hardly had he ignited his -match across the rough sandpaper of his hand, when Tashtego, his harpooneer, -whose eyes had been setting to windward like two fixed stars, suddenly -dropped like light from his erect attitude to his seat, -crying out in a quick phrensy of hurry, Down, down all, and give way there -they are To a landsman, no whale, nor any sign of a herring, would have -been visible at that moment nothing but a troubled bit of greenish white -water, and thin scattered puffs of vapor hovering over it, and suffusingly -blowing off to leeward, like the confused scud from white rolling billows. -The air around suddenly vibrated and tingled, as it were, like the air over -intensely heated plates of iron. Beneath this atmospheric waving and curling, -and partially beneath a thin layer of water, also, the whales were swimming. -Seen in advance of all the other indications, the puffs of vapor they spouted, -seemed their forerunning couriers and detached flying outriders. All four -boats were now in keen pursuit of that one spot of troubled water and air. -But it bade far to outstrip them it flew on and on, as a mass of -interblending bubbles borne down a rapid stream from the hills. Pull, pull, -my good boys, said Starbuck, in the lowest possible but intensest -concentrated whisper to his men while the sharp fixed glance from his eyes -darted straight ahead of the bow, almost seemed as two visible needles in two -unerring binnacle compasses. He did not say much to his crew, though, nor -did his crew say anything to him. Only the silence of the boat was at -intervals startlingly pierced by one of his peculiar whispers, now harsh with -command, now soft with entreaty. How different the loud little KingPost. -Sing out and say something, my hearties. Roar and pull, my thunderbolts -Beach me, beach me on their black backs, boys only do that for me, and I'll -sign over to you my Martha's Vineyard plantation, boys including wife and -children, boys. Lay me on lay me on O Lord, Lord but I shall go stark, -staring mad See see that white water And so shouting, he pulled his hat -from his head, and stamped up and down on it then picking it up, flirted it -far off upon the sea and finally fell to rearing and plunging in the boat's -stern like a crazed colt from the prairie. Look at that chap now, -philosophically drawled Stubb, who, with his unlighted short pipe, -mechanically retained between his teeth, at a short distance, followed after -He's got fits, that -Flask has. Fits? yes, give him fits that's the very word pitch fits -into 'em. Merrily, merrily, heartsalive. Pudding for supper, you know -merry's the word. Pull, babes pull, sucklings pull, all. But what the -devil are you hurrying about? Softly, softly, and steadily, my men. Only -pull, and keep pulling nothing more. Crack all your backbones, and bite -your knives in two that's all. Take it easy why don't ye take it easy, I -say, and burst all your livers and lungs But what it was that inscrutable -Ahab said to that tigeryellow crew of his these were words best omitted -here for you live under the blessed light of the evangelical land. Only the -infidel sharks in the audacious seas may give ear to such words, when, with -tornado brow, and eyes of red murder, and foamglued lips, Ahab leaped after -his prey. Meanwhile, all the boats tore on. The repeated specific allusions -of Flask to that whale, as he called the fictitious monster which he -declared to be incessantly tantalizing his boat's bow with its tail these -allusions of his were at times so vivid and lifelike, that they would cause -some one or two of his men to snatch a fearful look over the shoulder. But -this was against all rule for the oarsmen must put out their eyes, and ram -a skewer through their necks usage pronouncing that they must have no organs -but ears, and no limbs but arms, in these critical moments. It was a sight -full of quick wonder and awe The vast swells of the omnipotent sea the -surging, hollow roar they made, as they rolled along the eight gunwales, like -gigantic bowls in a boundless bowlinggreen the brief suspended agony of the -boat, as it would tip for an instant on the knifelike edge of the sharper -waves, that almost seemed threatening to cut it in two the sudden profound -dip into the watery glens and hollows the keen spurrings and goadings to -gain the top of the opposite hill the headlong, sledlike slide down its -other side all these, with the cries of the headsmen and harpooneers, and -the shuddering gasps of the oarsmen, with the wondrous sight of the ivory -Pequod bearing down upon her boats with outstretched sails, like a wild hen -after her screaming brood all this was thrilling. Not the raw recruit, -marching from the bosom of his wife into the fever heat of his first battle -not the dead man's ghost encountering -the first unknown phantom in the other world neither of these can feel -stranger and stronger emotions than that man does, who for the first time -finds himself pulling into the charmed, churned circle of the hunted sperm -whale. The dancing white water made by the chase was now becoming more and -more visible, owing to the increasing darkness of the dun cloudshadows flung -upon the sea. The jets of vapor no longer blended, but tilted everywhere to -right and left the whales seemed separating their wakes. The boats were -pulled more apart Starbuck giving chase to three whales running dead to -leeward. Our sail was now set, and, with the still rising wind, we rushed -along the boat going with such madness through the water, that the lee oars -could scarcely be worked rapidly enough to escape being torn from the -rowlocks. Soon we were running through a suffusing wide veil of mist -neither ship nor boat to be seen. Give way, men, whispered Starbuck, drawing -still further aft the sheet of his sail there is time to kill a fish yet -before the squall comes. There's white water again close to Spring -Soon after, two cries in quick succession on each side of us denoted that the -other boats had got fast but hardly were they overheard, when with a -lightninglike hurtling whisper Starbuck said Stand up and Queequeg, -harpoon in hand, sprang to his feet. Though not one of the oarsmen was then -facing the life and death peril so close to them ahead, yet with their eyes -on the intense countenance of the mate in the stern of the boat, they knew -that the imminent instant had come they heard, too, an enormous wallowing -sound as of fifty elephants stirring in their litter. Meanwhile the boat was -still booming through the mist, the waves curling and hissing around us like -the erected crests of enraged serpents. That's his hump. There, there, -give it to him whispered Starbuck. A short rushing sound leaped out of the -boat it was the darted iron of Queequeg. Then all in one welded commotion -came an invisible push from astern, while forward the boat seemed striking on -a ledge the sail collapsed and exploded a -gush of scalding vapor shot up near by something rolled and tumbled like an -earthquake beneath us. The whole crew were half suffocated as they were -tossed helterskelter into the white curdling cream of the squall. Squall, -whale, and harpoon had all blended together and the whale, merely grazed by -the iron, escaped. Though completely swamped, the boat was nearly unharmed. -Swimming round it we picked up the floating oars, and lashing them across the -gunwale, tumbled back to our places. There we sat up to our knees in the sea, -the water covering every rib and plank, so that to our downward gazing eyes -the suspended craft seemed a coral boat grown up to us from the bottom of the -ocean. The wind increased to a howl the waves dashed their bucklers -together the whole squall roared, forked, and crackled around us like a -white fire upon the prairie, in which, unconsumed, we were burning immortal -in these jaws of death In vain we hailed the other boats as well roar to -the live coals down the chimney of a flaming furnace as hail those boats in -that storm. Meanwhile the driving scud, rack, and mist, grew darker with the -shadows of night no sign of the ship could be seen. The rising sea forbade -all attempts to bale out the boat. The oars were useless as propellers, -performing now the office of lifepreservers. So, cutting the lashing of the -waterproof match keg, after many failures Starbuck contrived to ignite the -lamp in the lantern then stretching it on a waif pole, handed it to Queequeg -as the standardbearer of this forlorn hope. There, then, he sat, holding up -that imbecile candle in the heart of that almighty forlornness. There, then, -he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope -in the midst of despair. Wet, drenched through, and shivering cold, -despairing of ship or boat, we lifted up our eyes as the dawn came on. The -mist still spread over the sea, the empty lantern lay crushed in the bottom -of the boat. Suddenly Queequeg started to his feet, hollowing his hand to his -ear. We all heard a faint creaking, as of ropes and yards hitherto muffled by -the storm. The sound came nearer and nearer the thick mists were dimly -parted by -a huge, vague form. Affrighted, we all sprang into the sea as the ship at -last loomed into view, bearing right down upon us within a distance of not -much more than its length. Floating on the waves we saw the abandoned boat, as -for one instant it tossed and gaped beneath the ship's bows like a chip at -the base of a cataract and then the vast hull rolled over it, and it was -seen no more till it came up weltering astern. Again we swam for it, were -dashed against it by the seas, and were at last taken up and safely landed on -board. Ere the squall came close to, the other boats had cut loose from -their fish and returned to the ship in good time. The ship had given us up, -but was still cruising, if haply it might light upon some token of our -perishing, an oar or a lance pole. -There are certain queer times and occasions -in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe -for a vast practical joke, though the wit thereof he but dimly discerns, -and more than suspects that the joke is at nobody's expense but his own. -However, nothing dispirits, and nothing seems worth while disputing. He bolts -down all events, all creeds, and beliefs, and persuasions, all hard things -visible and invisible, never mind how knobby as an ostrich of potent -digestion gobbles down bullets and gun flints. And as for small difficulties -and worryings, prospects of sudden disaster, peril of life and limb all -these, and death itself, seem to him only sly, goodnatured hits, and jolly -punches in the side bestowed by the unseen and unaccountable old joker. That -odd sort of wayward mood I am speaking of, comes over a man only in some time -of extreme tribulation it comes in the very midst of his earnestness, so -that what just before might have seemed to him a thing most momentous, now -seems but a part of the general -joke. There is nothing like the perils of whaling to breed this free and easy -sort of genial, desperado philosophy and with it I now regarded this whole -voyage of the Pequod, and the great White Whale its object. Queequeg, said -I, when they had dragged me, the last man, to the deck, and I was still -shaking myself in my jacket to fling off the water Queequeg, my fine -friend, does this sort of thing often happen? Without much emotion, though -soaked through just like me, he gave me to understand that such things did -often happen. Mr. Stubb, said I, turning to that worthy, who, buttoned up -in his oiljacket, was now calmly smoking his pipe in the rain Mr. Stubb, -I think I have heard you say that of all whalemen you ever met, our chief -mate, Mr. Starbuck, is by far the most careful and prudent. I suppose then, -that going plump on a flying whale with your sail set in a foggy squall is the -height of a whaleman's discretion? Certain. I've lowered for whales from a -leaking ship in a gale off Cape Horn. Mr. Flask, said I, turning to -little KingPost, who was standing close by you are experienced in these -things, and I am not. Will you tell me whether it is an unalterable law in -this fishery, Mr. Flask, for an oarsman to break his own back pulling himself -backforemost into death's jaws? Can't you twist that smaller? said Flask. -Yes, that's the law. I should like to see a boat's crew backing water up to a -whale face foremost. Ha, ha the whale would give them squint for squint, -mind that here then, from three impartial witnesses, i had a deliberate -statement of the entire case. Considering, therefore, that squalls and -capsizings in the water and consequent bivouacks on the deep, were matters -of common occurrence in this kind of life considering that at the -superlatively critical instant of going on to the whale I must resign my life -into the hands of him who steered the boat oftentimes a fellow who at that -very moment is in his impetuousness upon the point of scuttling the craft -with his own frantic stampings considering that the particular disaster to -our own particular boat was chiefly to be -imputed to Starbuck's driving on to his whale almost in the teeth of a squall, -and considering that Starbuck, notwithstanding, was famous for his great -heedfulness in the fishery considering that I belonged to this uncommonly -prudent Starbuck's boat and finally considering in what a devil's chase I was -implicated, touching the White Whale taking all things together, I say, I -thought I might as well go below and make a rough draft of my will. -Queequeg, said I, come along, you shall be my lawyer, executor, and -legatee. It may seem strange that of all men sailors should be tinkering at -their last wills and testaments, but there are no people in the world more -fond of that diversion. This was the fourth time in my nautical life that I -had done the same thing. After the ceremony was concluded upon the present -occasion, I felt all the easier a stone was rolled away from my heart. -Besides, all the days I should now live would be as good as the days that -Lazarus lived after his resurrection a supplementary clean gain of so many -months or weeks as the case might be. I survived myself my death and burial -were locked up in my chest. I looked round me tranquilly and contentedly, -like a quiet ghost with a clean conscience sitting inside the bars of a snug -family vault. now then, thought i, unconsciously rolling up the sleeves of -my frock, here goes a cool, collected dive at death and destruction, and the -devil fetch the hindmost. -I quickly followed suit, and descending into -the barroom accosted the grinning landlord very pleasantly. I cherished no -malice towards him, though he had been skylarking with me not a little in the -matter of my bedfellow. However, a good laugh is a mighty good thing, and -rather too scarce a good thing the more's the pity. So, if any one man, in -his own proper person, afford stuff for a good joke to anybody, let him not -be backward, but let him cheerfully allow himself to spend and be spent in -that way. And the man that has anything bountifully laughable about him, be -sure there is more in that man than you perhaps think for. The barroom was -now full of the boarders who had been dropping in the night previous, and -whom I had not as yet had a good look at. They were nearly all whalemen -chief mates, and second mates, and third mates, and sea carpenters, and sea -coopers, and sea blacksmiths, and harpooneers, and ship keepers a brown and -brawny company, with bosky beards an unshorn, shaggy set, all wearing -monkey jackets for morning gowns. You could pretty plainly tell how long each -one had been ashore. This young fellow's healthy cheek is like a suntoasted -pear in hue, and would seem to smell almost as musky he cannot have been -three days landed from his Indian voyage. That man next him looks a few -shades lighter you might say a touch of satin wood is in him. In the -complexion of a third still lingers a tropic tawn, but slightly bleached -withal he doubtless has tarried whole weeks ashore. But who could show a -cheek like -Queequeg? which, barred with various tints, seemed like the Andes' western -slope, to show forth in one array, contrasting climates, zone by zone. -Grub, ho now cried the landlord, flinging open a door, and in we went to -breakfast. They say that men who have seen the world, thereby become quite at -ease in manner, quite selfpossessed in company. Not always, though -Ledyard, the great New England traveller, and Mungo Park, the Scotch one of -all men, they possessed the least assurance in the parlor. But perhaps the -mere crossing of Siberia in a sledge drawn by dogs as Ledyard did, or the -taking a long solitary walk on an empty stomach, in the negro heart of -Africa, which was the sum of poor Mungo's performances this kind of travel, -I say, may not be the very best mode of attaining a high social polish. -Still, for the most part, that sort of thing is to be had anywhere. These -reflections just here are occasioned by the circumstance that after we were -all seated at the table, and I was preparing to hear some good stories about -whaling to my no small surprise, nearly every man maintained a profound -silence. And not only that, but they looked embarrassed. Yes, here were a -set of seadogs, many of whom without the slightest bashfulness had boarded -great whales on the high seas entire strangers to them and duelled them dead -without winking and yet, here they sat at a social breakfast table all of -the same calling, all of kindred tastes looking round as sheepishly at -each other as though they had never been out of sight of some sheepfold among -the Green Mountains. A curious sight these bashful bears, these timid -warrior whalemen But as for Queequeg why, Queequeg sat there among them at -the head of the table, too, it so chanced as cool as an icicle. To be sure -I cannot say much for his breeding. His greatest admirer could not have -cordially justified his bringing his harpoon into breakfast with him, and -using it there without ceremony reaching over the table with it, to the -imminent jeopardy of many heads, and grappling the beefsteaks towards him. -But that was certainly very coolly done by him, and every -one knows that in most people's estimation, to do anything coolly is to do it -genteelly. We will not speak of all Queequeg's peculiarities here how he -eschewed coffee and hot rolls, and applied his undivided attention to -beefsteaks, done rare. Enough, that when breakfast was over he withdrew like -the rest into the public room, lighted his tomahawkpipe, and was sitting -there quietly digesting and smoking with his inseparable hat on, when I -sallied out for a stroll. -Who would have thought -it, Flask cried Stubb if I had but one leg you would not catch me in a -boat, unless maybe to stop the plughole with my timber toe. Oh he's a -wonderful old man I don't think it so strange, after all, on that -account, said -Flask. If his leg were off at the hip, now, it would be a different thing. -That would disable him but he has one knee, and good part of the other left, -you know. I don't know that, my little man I never yet saw him kneel. -Among whalewise people it has often been argued whether, considering the -paramount importance of his life to the success of the voyage, it is right for -a whaling captain to jeopardize that life in the active perils of the chase. -So Tamerlane's soldiers often argued with tears in their eyes, whether that -invaluable life of his ought to be carried into the thickest of the fight. -But with Ahab the question assumed a modified aspect. Considering that with -two legs man is but a hobbling wight in all times of danger considering that -the pursuit of whales is always under great and extraordinary difficulties -that every individual moment, indeed, then comprises a peril under these -circumstances is it wise for any maimed man to enter a whaleboat in the -hunt? As a general thing, the jointowners of the Pequod must have plainly -thought not. Ahab well knew that although his friends at home would think -little of his entering a boat in certain comparatively harmless vicissitudes -of the chase, for the sake of being near the scene of action and giving his -orders in person, yet for Captain Ahab to have a boat actually apportioned to -him as a regular headsman in the hunt above all for Captain Ahab to be -supplied with five extra men, as that same boat's crew, he well knew that -such generous conceits never entered the heads of the owners of the Pequod. -Therefore he had not solicited a boat's crew from them, nor had he in any way -hinted his desires on that head. Nevertheless he had taken private measures -of his own touching all that matter. Until Cabaco's published discovery, the -sailors had little foreseen it, though to be sure when, after being a little -while out of port, all hands had concluded the customary business of fitting -the whaleboats for service when some time after this Ahab was now and then -found bestirring himself in the matter of making tholepins with his own hands -for what was thought to be one of the spare boats, and even solicitously -cutting the small wooden skewers, which when the -line is running out are pinned over the groove in the bow when all this was -observed in him, and particularly his solicitude in having an extra coat of -sheathing in the bottom of the boat, as if to make it better withstand the -pointed pressure of his ivory limb and also the anxiety he evinced in -exactly shaping the thigh board, or clumsy cleat, as it is sometimes called, -the horizontal piece in the boat's bow for bracing the knee against in -darting or stabbing at the whale when it was observed how often he stood up -in that boat with his solitary knee fixed in the semicircular depression in -the cleat, and with the carpenter's chisel gouged out a little here and -straightened it a little there all these things, I say, had awakened much -interest and curiosity at the time. But almost everybody supposed that this -particular preparative heedfulness in Ahab must only be with a view to the -ultimate chase of Moby Dick for he had already revealed his intention to -hunt that mortal monster in person. But such a supposition did by no means -involve the remotest suspicion as to any boat's crew being assigned to that -boat. now, with the subordinate phantoms, what wonder remained soon waned -away for in a whaler wonders soon wane. Besides, now and then such -unaccountable odds and ends of strange nations come up from the unknown nooks -and ashholes of the earth to man these floating outlaws of whalers and the -ships themselves often pick up such queer castaway creatures found tossing -about the open sea on planks, bits of wreck, oars, whaleboats, canoes, -blownoff Japanese junks, and what not that Beelzebub himself might climb up -the side and step down into the cabin to chat with the captain, and it would -not create any unsubduable excitement in the forecastle. But be all this as -it may, certain it is that while the subordinate phantoms soon found their -place among the crew, though still as it were somehow distinct from them, -yet that hairturbaned Fedallah remained a muffled mystery to the last. -Whence he came in a mannerly world like this, by what sort of unaccountable -tie he soon evinced himself to be linked with Ahab's peculiar fortunes nay, -so far as to have some sort of a halfhinted influence Heaven knows, but -it might have been even authority over him all this none knew. But one -cannot sustain -an indifferent air concerning Fedallah. He was such a creature as civilized, -domestic people in the temperate zone only see in their dreams, and that but -dimly but the like of whom now and then glide among the unchanging Asiatic -communities, especially the Oriental isles to the east of the continent those -insulated, immemorial, unalterable countries, which even in these modern -days still preserve much of the ghostly aboriginalness of earth's primal -generations, when the memory of the first man was a distinct recollection, -and all men his descendants, unknowing whence he came, eyed each other as -real phantoms, and asked of the sun and the moon why they were created and to -what end when though, according to genesis, the angels indeed consorted -with the daughters of men, the devils also, add the uncanonical Rabbins, -indulged in mundane amours. -Days, weeks passed, and under easy -sail, the ivory Pequod had slowly swept across four several cruisinggrounds -that off the Azores off the Cape de Verdes on the Plate so called, -being off the mouth of the Rio de la Plata and the Carrol Ground, an -unstaked, watery locality, southerly from St. Helena. It was while gliding -through these latter waters that one serene and moonlight night, when all -the waves rolled by like scrolls of silver and, by their soft, suffusing -seethings, made what seemed a silvery silence, not a solitude on such a -silent night a silvery jet was seen far in advance of the white bubbles at -the bow. Lit up by the moon, it looked celestial seemed some plumed and -glittering god uprising from the sea. Fedallah first descried this jet. For -of these moonlight nights, it was his wont to mount to the mainmast head, -and stand a lookout there, with the same precision as if it had been day. -And yet, though herds of whales were seen by night, not one whaleman -in a hundred would venture a lowering for them. You may think with what -emotions, then, the seamen beheld this old Oriental perched aloft at such -unusual hours his turban and the moon, companions in one sky. But when, -after spending his uniform interval there for several successive nights -without uttering a single sound when, after all this silence, his unearthly -voice was heard announcing that silvery, moonlit jet, every reclining -mariner started to his feet as if some winged spirit had lighted in the -rigging, and hailed the mortal crew. There she blows Had the trump of -judgment blown, they could not have quivered more yet still they felt no -terror rather pleasure. for though it was a most unwonted hour, yet so -impressive was the cry, and so deliriously exciting, that almost every soul -on board instinctively desired a lowering. Walking the deck with quick, -sidelunging strides, Ahab commanded the t'gallant sails and royals to be set, -and every stunsail spread. The best man in the ship must take the helm. -Then, with every masthead manned, the piledup craft rolled down before the -wind. The strange, upheaving, lifting tendency of the taffrail breeze filling -the hollows of so many sails, made the buoyant, hovering deck to feel like -air beneath the feet while still she rushed along, as if two antagonistic -influences were struggling in her one to mount direct to heaven, the other -to drive yawingly to some horizontal goal. And had you watched Ahab's face -that night, you would have thought that in him also two different things were -warring. While his one live leg made lively echoes along the deck, every -stroke of his dead limb sounded like a coffintap. On life and death this old -man walked. But though the ship so swiftly sped, and though from every eye, -like arrows, the eager glances shot, yet the silvery jet was no more seen -that night. Every sailor swore he saw it once, but not a second time. This -midnightspout had almost grown a forgotten thing, when, some days after, lo -at the same silent hour, it was again announced again it was descried by -all but upon making sail to overtake it, once more it disappeared as if it -had never been. And so it served us night after night, till no one heeded it -but to wonder at it. Mysteriously jetted into the clear moonlight, -or starlight, as the case might be disappearing again for one whole day, or -two days, or three and somehow seeming at every distinct repetition to be -advancing still further and further in our van, this solitary jet seemed for -ever alluring us on. Nor with the immemorial superstition of their race, and -in accordance with the preternaturalness, as it seemed, which in many -things invested the Pequod, were there wanting some of the seamen who swore -that whenever and wherever descried at however remote times, or in however -far apart latitudes and longitudes, that unnearable spout was cast by one -selfsame whale and that whale, Moby Dick. For a time, there reigned, too, a -sense of peculiar dread at this flitting apparition, as if it were -treacherously beckoning us on and on, in order that the monster might turn -round upon us, and rend us at last in the remotest and most savage seas. -These temporary apprehensions, so vague but so awful, derived a wondrous -potency from the contrasting serenity of the weather, in which, beneath all -its blue blandness, some thought there lurked a devilish charm, as for days -and days we voyaged along, through seas so wearily, lonesomely mild, that -all space, in repugnance to our vengeful errand, seemed vacating itself of -life before our urnlike prow. But, at last, when turning to the eastward, -the Cape winds began howling around us, and we rose and fell upon the long, -troubled seas that are there when the ivorytusked Pequod sharply bowed to -the blast, and gored the dark waves in her madness, till, like showers of -silver chips, the foamflakes flew over her bulwarks then all this desolate -vacuity of life went away, but gave place to sights more dismal than before. -Close to our bows, strange forms in the water darted hither and thither before -us while thick in our rear flew the inscrutable searavens. And every -morning, perched on our stays, rows of these birds were seen and spite of -our hootings, for a long time obstinately clung to the hemp, as though they -deemed our ship some drifting, uninhabited craft a thing appointed to -desolation, and therefore fit roostingplace for their homeless selves. And -heaved and heaved, still unrestingly heaved the black sea, as if its vast -tides were a conscience and the great -mundane soul were in anguish and remorse for the long sin and suffering it had -bred. Cape of Good Hope, do they call ye? Rather Cape Tormentoto, as called -of yore for long allured by the perfidious silences that before had attended -us, we found ourselves launched into this tormented sea, where guilty beings -transformed into those fowls and these fish, seemed condemned to swim on -everlastingly without any haven in store, or beat that black air without any -horizon. But calm, snowwhite, and unvarying still directing its fountain of -feathers to the sky still beckoning us on from before, the solitary jet -would at times be descried. During all this blackness of the elements, Ahab, -though assuming for the time the almost continual command of the drenched and -dangerous deck, manifested the gloomiest reserve and more seldom than ever -addressed his mates. In tempestuous times like these, after everything above -and aloft has been secured, nothing more can be done but passively to await -the issue of the gale. Then Captain and crew become practical fatalists. -So, with his ivory leg inserted into its accustomed hole, and with one hand -firmly grasping a shroud, Ahab for hours and hours would stand gazing dead to -windward, while an occasional squall of sleet or snow would all but congeal -his very eyelashes together. Meantime, the crew driven from the forward -part of the ship by the perilous seas that burstingly broke over its bows, -stood in a line along the bulwarks in the waist and the better to guard -against the leaping waves, each man had slipped himself into a sort of -bowline secured to the rail, in which he swung as in a loosened belt. Few or -no words were spoken and the silent ship, as if manned by painted sailors in -wax, day after day tore on through all the swift madness and gladness of the -demoniac waves. By night the same muteness of humanity before the shrieks of -the ocean prevailed still in silence the men swung in the bowlines still -wordless ahab stood up to the blast. Even when wearied nature seemed -demanding repose he would not seek that repose in his hammock. Never could -Starbuck forget the old man's aspect, when one night going down into the cabin -to mark how the -barometer stood, he saw him with closed eyes sitting straight in his -floorscrewed chair the rain and halfmelted sleet of the storm from which -he had some time before emerged, still slowly dripping from the unremoved hat -and coat. On the table beside him lay unrolled one of those charts of tides -and currents which have previously been spoken of. His lantern swung from his -tightly clenched hand. Though the body was erect, the head was thrown back -so that the closed eyes were pointed towards the needle of the telltale that -swung from a beam in the ceiling. Terrible old man thought Starbuck with a -shudder, sleeping in this gale, still thou steadfastly eyest thy purpose. -Southeastward from the Cape, off the -distant Crozetts, a good cruising ground for Right Whalemen, a sail loomed -ahead, the Goney Albatross by name. As she slowly drew nigh, from my lofty -perch at the foremasthead, I had a good view of that sight so remarkable to -a tyro in the far ocean fisheries a whaler at sea, and long absent from -home. As if the waves had been fullers, this craft was bleached like the -skeleton of a stranded walrus. All down her sides, this spectral appearance -was traced with long channels of reddened rust, while all her spars and her -rigging were like the thick branches of trees furred over with hoarfrost. -Only her lower sails were set. A wild sight it was to see her longbearded -lookouts at those three mastheads. They seemed clad in the skins of -beasts, so torn and bepatched the raiment that had survived nearly four years -of cruising. Standing in iron hoops nailed to the mast, they swayed and -swung over a fathomless sea -and though, when the ship slowly glided close under our stern, we six men in -the air came so nigh to each other that we might almost have leaped from the -mastheads of one ship to those of the other yet, those forlornlooking -fishermen, mildly eyeing us as they passed, said not one word to our own -lookouts, while the quarterdeck hail was being heard from below. Ship -ahoy Have ye seen the White Whale? But as the strange captain, leaning over -the pallid bulwarks, was in the act of putting his trumpet to his mouth, it -somehow fell from his hand into the sea and the wind now rising amain, he -in vain strove to make himself heard without it. Meantime his ship was still -increasing the distance between. While in various silent ways the seamen of -the Pequod were evincing their observance of this ominous incident at the -first mere mention of the White Whale's name to another ship, Ahab for a -moment paused it almost seemed as though he would have lowered a boat to -board the stranger, had not the threatening wind forbade. But taking -advantage of his windward position, he again seized his trumpet, and knowing -by her aspect that the stranger vessel was a Nantucketer and shortly bound -home, he loudly hailed Ahoy there This is the Pequod, bound round the -world Tell them to address all future letters to the Pacific ocean and -this time three years, if I am not at home, tell them to address them to -At that moment the two wakes were fairly crossed, and instantly, then, in -accordance with their singular ways, shoals of small harmless fish, that for -some days before had been placidly swimming by our side, darted away with what -seemed shuddering fins, and ranged themselves fore and aft with the -stranger's flanks. Though in the course of his continual voyagings Ahab must -often before have noticed a similar sight, yet, to any monomaniac man, the -veriest trifles capriciously carry meanings. Swim away from me, do ye? -murmured Ahab, gazing over into the water. There seemed but little in the -words, but the tone conveyed more of deep helpless sadness than the insane -old man had ever before evinced. But turning to the steersman, who thus far -had been holding the ship in the wind to diminish -her headway, he cried out in his old lion voice, Up helm Keep her off -round the world Round the world There is much in that sound to inspire -proud feelings but whereto does all that circumnavigation conduct? Only -through numberless perils to the very point whence we started, where those -that we left behind secure, were all the time before us. Were this world an -endless plain, and by sailing eastward we could for ever reach new distances, -and discover sights more sweet and strange than any Cyclades or Islands of -King Solomon, then there were promise in the voyage. But in pursuit of those -far mysteries we dream of, or in tormented chase of that demon phantom that, -some time or other, swims before all human hearts while chasing such over -this round globe, they either lead us on in barren mazes or midway leave us -whelmed. -The cabincompass is called the telltale, because without going to the -compass at the helm, the Captain, while below, can inform himself of the -course of the ship. -The ostensible reason why Ahab did not go on -board of the whaler we had spoken was this the wind and sea betokened -storms. But even had this not been the case, he would not after all, -perhaps, have boarded her judging by his subsequent conduct on similar -occasions if so it had been that, by the process of hailing, he had obtained -a negative answer to the question he put. For, as it eventually turned out, -he cared not to consort, even for five minutes, with any stranger captain, -except he could contribute some of that information he so absorbingly sought. -But all this might remain inadequately estimated, were not something said -here of the peculiar usages of whalingvessels when meeting each other in -foreign seas, and especially on a common cruisingground. If two strangers -crossing the Pine Barrens in New York State, or the equally desolate Salisbury -Plain in England if -casually encountering each other in such inhospitable wilds, these twain, for -the life of them, cannot well avoid a mutual salutation and stopping for a -moment to interchange the news and, perhaps, sitting down for a while and -resting in concert then, how much more natural that upon the illimitable Pine -Barrens and Salisbury Plains of the sea, two whaling vessels descrying each -other at the ends of the earth off lone Fanning's Island, or the far away -King's Mills how much more natural, I say, that under such circumstances -these ships should not only interchange hails, but come into still closer, -more friendly and sociable contact. And especially would this seem to be a -matter of course, in the case of vessels owned in one seaport, and whose -captains, officers, and not a few of the men are personally known to each -other and consequently, have all sorts of dear domestic things to talk -about. For the long absent ship, the outwardbounder, perhaps, has letters -on board at any rate, she will be sure to let her have some papers of a date -a year or two later than the last one on her blurred and thumbworn files. -And in return for that courtesy, the outwardbound ship would receive the -latest whaling intelligence from the cruisingground to which she may be -destined, a thing of the utmost importance to her. And in degree, all this -will hold true concerning whaling vessels crossing each other's track on the -cruisingground itself, even though they are equally long absent from home. -for one of them may have received a transfer of letters from some third, and -now far remote vessel and some of those letters may be for the people of the -ship she now meets. Besides, they would exchange the whaling news, and have -an agreeable chat. For not only would they meet with all the sympathies of -sailors, but likewise with all the peculiar congenialities arising from a -common pursuit and mutually shared privations and perils. Nor would -difference of country make any very essential difference that is, so long as -both parties speak one language, as is the case with Americans and English. -Though, to be sure, from the small number of English whalers, such meetings -do not very often occur, and when they do occur there is too apt to be a -sort of shyness between them for your Englishman is rather -reserved, and your Yankee, he does not fancy that sort of thing in anybody -but himself. Besides, the English whalers sometimes affect a kind of -metropolitan superiority over the American whalers regarding the long, lean -Nantucketer, with his nondescript provincialisms, as a sort of seapeasant. -But where this superiority in the English whalemen does really consist, it -would be hard to say, seeing that the Yankees in one day, collectively, kill -more whales than all the English, collectively, in ten years. But this is a -harmless little foible in the English whalehunters, which the Nantucketer -does not take much to heart probably, because he knows that he has a few -foibles himself. So, then, we see that of all ships separately sailing the -sea, the whalers have most reason to be sociable and they are so. Whereas, -some merchant ships crossing each other's wake in the midAtlantic, will -oftentimes pass on without so much as a single word of recognition, mutually -cutting each other on the high seas, like a brace of dandies in Broadway -and all the time indulging, perhaps, in finical criticism upon each other's -rig. As for MenofWar, when they chance to meet at sea, they first go -through such a string of silly bowings and scrapings, such a ducking of -ensigns, that there does not seem to be much rightdown hearty goodwill and -brotherly love about it at all. As touching Slaveships meeting, why, they are -in such a prodigious hurry, they run away from each other as soon as possible. -And as for Pirates, when they chance to cross each other's crossbones, the -first hail is How many skulls? the same way that whalers hail How many -barrels? And that question once answered, pirates straightway steer apart, -for they are infernal villains on both sides, and don't like to see overmuch -of each other's villanous likenesses. But look at the godly, honest, -unostentatious, hospitable, sociable, freeandeasy whaler What does the -whaler do when she meets another whaler in any sort of decent weather? She -has a Gam, a thing so utterly unknown to all other ships that they never -heard of the name even and if by chance they should hear of it, they only -grin at it, and repeat gamesome stuff about spouters and blubberboilers, -and such like pretty exclamations. Why it is that all Merchantseamen, and -also all -Pirates and ManofWar's men, and Slaveship sailors, cherish such a scornful -feeling towards Whaleships this is a question it would be hard to answer. -Because, in the case of pirates, say, I should like to know whether that -profession of theirs has any peculiar glory about it. It sometimes ends in -uncommon elevation, indeed but only at the gallows. And besides, when a -man is elevated in that odd fashion, he has no proper foundation for his -superior altitude. Hence, I conclude, that in boasting himself to be high -lifted above a whaleman, in that assertion the pirate has no solid basis to -stand on. but what is a gam? you might wear out your indexfinger running -up and down the columns of dictionaries, and never find the word. Dr. -Johnson never attained to that erudition Noah Webster's ark does not hold it. -Nevertheless, this same expressive word has now for many years been in -constant use among some fifteen thousand true born Yankees. Certainly it -needs a definition, and should be incorporated into the Lexicon. With that -view, let me learnedly define it. Gam. Noun A social meeting of two or more -Whaleships, generally on a cruisingground when, after exchanging hails, -they exchange visits by boats' crews the two captains remaining, for the -time, on board of one ship, and the two chief mates on the other. There is -another little item about Gamming which must not be forgotten here. All -professions have their own little peculiarities of detail so has the whale -fishery. In a pirate, manofwar, or slave ship, when the captain is rowed -anywhere in his boat, he always sits in the stern sheets on a comfortable, -sometimes cushioned seat there, and often steers himself with a pretty little -milliner's tiller decorated with gay cords and ribbons. But the whaleboat -has no seat astern, no sofa of that sort whatever, and no tiller at all. -High times indeed, if whaling captains were wheeled about the water on castors -like gouty old aldermen in patent chairs. And as for a tiller, the -whaleboat never admits of any such effeminacy and therefore as in gamming a -complete boat's crew must leave the ship, and hence as the boat steerer or -harpooneer is of the number, that subordinate is the steersman upon the -occasion, and the captain, having no -place to sit in, is pulled off to his visit all standing like a pine tree. -And often you will notice that being conscious of the eyes of the whole -visible world resting on him from the sides of the two ships, this standing -captain is all alive to the importance of sustaining his dignity by -maintaining his legs. nor is this any very easy matter for in his rear is -the immense projecting steering oar hitting him now and then in the small of -his back, the afteroar reciprocating by rapping his knees in front. He is -thus completely wedged before and behind, and can only expand himself -sideways by settling down on his stretched legs but a sudden, violent pitch -of the boat will often go far to topple him, because length of foundation is -nothing without corresponding breadth. Merely make a spread angle of two -poles, and you cannot stand them up. Then, again, it would never do in plain -sight of the world's riveted eyes, it would never do, I say, for this -straddling captain to be seen steadying himself the slightest particle by -catching hold of anything with his hands indeed, as token of his entire, -buoyant selfcommand, he generally carries his hands in his trowsers' -pockets but perhaps being generally very large, heavy hands, he carries them -there for ballast. Nevertheless there have occurred instances, well -authenticated ones too, where the captain has been known for an uncommonly -critical moment or two, in a sudden squall say to seize hold of the nearest -oarsman's hair, and hold on there like grim death. - As told at the Golden Inn. -The Cape of Good Hope, and all the watery region round about there, is much -like some noted four corners of a great highway, where you meet more -travellers than in any other part. It was not very long after speaking the -Goney that another -homewardbound whaleman, the TownHo, was encountered. She was manned almost -wholly by Polynesians. In the short gam that ensued she gave us strong news -of Moby Dick. To some the general interest in the White Whale was now wildly -heightened by a circumstance of the TownHo's story, which seemed obscurely -to involve with the whale a certain wondrous, inverted visitation of one of -those so called judgments of God which at times are said to overtake some men. -This latter circumstance, with its own particular accompaniments, forming -what may be called the secret part of the tragedy about to be narrated, never -reached the ears of Captain Ahab or his mates. For that secret part of the -story was unknown to the captain of the TownHo himself. It was the private -property of three confederate white seamen of that ship, one of whom, it -seems, communicated it to Tashtego with Romish injunctions of secresy, but -the following night Tashtego rambled in his sleep, and revealed so much of it -in that way, that when he was wakened he could not well withhold the rest. -Nevertheless, so potent an influence did this thing have on those seamen in -the Pequod who came to the full knowledge of it, and by such a strange -delicacy, to call it so, were they governed in this matter, that they kept -the secret among themselves so that it never transpired abaft the Pequod's -mainmast. Interweaving in its proper place this darker thread with the story -as publicly narrated on the ship, the whole of this strange affair I now -proceed to put on lasting record. For my humor's sake, I shall preserve the -style in which I once narrated it at Lima, to a lounging circle of my Spanish -friends, one saint's eve, smoking upon the thickgilt tiled piazza of the -Golden Inn. Of those fine cavaliers, the young Dons, Pedro and Sebastian, -were on the closer terms with me and hence the interluding questions they -occasionally put, and which are duly answered at the time. Some two years -prior to my first learning the events which I am about rehearsing to you, -gentlemen, the TownHo, Sperm -Whaler of Nantucket, was cruising in your Pacific here, not very many days' -sail westward from the eaves of this good Golden Inn. She was somewhere to -the northward of the Line. One morning upon handling the pumps, according to -daily usage, it was observed that she made more water in her hold than -common. They supposed a swordfish had stabbed her, gentlemen. But the -captain, having some unusual reason for believing that rare good luck awaited -him in those latitudes and therefore being very averse to quit them, and -the leak not being then considered at all dangerous, though, indeed, they -could not find it after searching the hold as low down as was possible in -rather heavy weather, the ship still continued her cruisings, the mariners -working at the pumps at wide and easy intervals but no good luck came more -days went by, and not only was the leak yet undiscovered, but it sensibly -increased. So much so, that now taking some alarm, the captain, making all -sail, stood away for the nearest harbor among the islands, there to have -his hull hove out and repaired. Though no small passage was before her, yet, -if the commonest chance favored, he did not at all fear that his ship would -founder by the way, because his pumps were of the best, and being -periodically relieved at them, those sixandthirty men of his could easily -keep the ship free never mind if the leak should double on her. In truth, -well nigh the whole of this passage being attended by very prosperous breezes, -the TownHo had all but certainly arrived in perfect safety at her port -without the occurrence of the least fatality, had it not been for the brutal -overbearing of Radney, the mate, a Vineyarder, and the bitterly provoked -vengeance of Steelkilt, a Lakeman and desperado from Buffalo. "Lakeman -Buffalo Pray, what is a Lakeman, and where is Buffalo?" said Don -Sebastian, rising in his swinging mat of grass. On the eastern shore of our -Lake Erie, Don butI crave your courtesymay be, you shall soon hear further -of all that. Now, gentlemen, in squaresail brigs and threemasted ships, -wellnigh as large and stout as any that ever sailed out of your old Callao to -far manilla this lakeman, in the landlocked heart of our America, had yet -been nurtured by all those agrarian -freebooting impressions popularly connected with the open ocean. For in their -interflowing aggregate, those grand freshwater seas of ours Erie, and -Ontario, and Huron, and Superior, and Michigan, possess an oceanlike -expansiveness, with many of the ocean's noblest traits with many of its -rimmed varieties of races and of climes. They contain round archipelagoes of -romantic isles, even as the Polynesian waters do in large part, are shored -by two great contrasting nations, as the Atlantic is they furnish long -maritime approaches to our numerous territorial colonies from the East, -dotted all round their banks here and there are frowned upon by batteries, -and by the goatlike craggy guns of lofty Mackinaw they have heard the fleet -thunderings of naval victories at intervals, they yield their beaches to -wild barbarians, whose red painted faces flash from out their peltry wigwams -for leagues and leagues are flanked by ancient and unentered forests, where -the gaunt pines stand like serried lines of kings in Gothic genealogies -those same woods harboring wild Afric beasts of prey, and silken creatures -whose exported furs give robes to Tartar Emperors they mirror the paved -capitals of Buffalo and Cleveland, as well as Winnebago villages they float -alike the fullrigged merchant ship, the armed cruiser of the State, the -steamer, and the beech canoe they are swept by Borean and dismasting blasts -as direful as any that lash the salted wave they know what shipwrecks are, -for out of sight of land, however inland, they have drowned full many a -midnight ship with all its shrieking crew. Thus, gentlemen, though an -inlander, Steelkilt was wildocean born, and wildocean nurtured as much -of an audacious mariner as any. And for Radney, though in his infancy he may -have laid him down on the lone Nantucket beach, to nurse at his maternal sea -though in after life he had long followed our austere Atlantic and your -contemplative Pacific yet was he quite as vengeful and full of social -quarrel as the backwoods seaman, fresh from the latitudes of buckhorn -handled Bowieknives. Yet was this Nantucketer a man with some goodhearted -traits and this Lakeman, a mariner, who though a sort of devil indeed, -might yet by inflexible firmness, only tempered by that common decency of -human recognition which is the meanest slave's right thus -treated, this Steelkilt had long been retained harmless and docile. At all -events, he had proved so thus far but Radney was doomed and made mad, and -Steelkilt but, gentlemen, you shall hear. It was not more than a day or two -at the furthest after pointing her prow for her island haven, that the -TownHo's leak seemed again increasing, but only so as to require an hour or -more at the pumps every day. You must know that in a settled and civilized -ocean like our Atlantic, for example, some skippers think little of pumping -their whole way across it though of a still, sleepy night, should the -officer of the deck happen to forget his duty in that respect, the -probability would be that he and his shipmates would never again remember it, -on account of all hands gently subsiding to the bottom. Nor in the solitary -and savage seas far from you to the westward, gentlemen, is it altogether -unusual for ships to keep clanging at their pumphandles in full chorus even -for a voyage of considerable length that is, if it lie along a tolerably -accessible coast, or if any other reasonable retreat is afforded them. It is -only when a leaky vessel is in some very out of the way part of those waters, -some really landless latitude, that her captain begins to feel a little -anxious. Much this way had it been with the TownHo so when her leak was -found gaining once more, there was in truth some small concern manifested by -several of her company especially by radney the mate. He commanded the -upper sails to be well hoisted, sheeted home anew, and every way expanded to -the breeze. Now this Radney, I suppose, was as little of a coward, and as -little inclined to any sort of nervous apprehensiveness touching his own -person as any fearless, unthinking creature on land or on sea that you can -conveniently imagine, gentlemen. Therefore when he betrayed this solicitude -about the safety of the ship, some of the seamen declared that it was only on -account of his being a part owner in her. So when they were working that -evening at the pumps, there was on this head no small gamesomeness slily -going on among them, as they stood with their feet continually overflowed by -the rippling clear water clear as any mountain spring, gentlemen that -bubbling from -the pumps ran across the deck, and poured itself out in steady spouts at the -lee scupperholes. Now, as you well know, it is not seldom the case in this -conventional world of ours watery or otherwise that when a person placed -in command over his fellowmen finds one of them to be very significantly his -superior in general pride of manhood, straightway against that man he -conceives an unconquerable dislike and bitterness and if he have a chance -he will pull down and pulverize that subaltern's tower, and make a little -heap of dust of it. Be this conceit of mine as it may, gentlemen, at all -events Steelkilt was a tall and noble animal with a head like a Roman, and a -flowing golden beard like the tasseled housings of your last viceroy's -snorting charger and a brain, and a heart, and a soul in him, gentlemen, -which had made Steelkilt Charlemagne, had he been born son to Charlemagne's -father. But Radney, the mate, was ugly as a mule yet as hardy, as stubborn, -as malicious. He did not love Steelkilt, and Steelkilt knew it. Espying the -mate drawing near as he was toiling at the pump with the rest, the Lakeman -affected not to notice him, but unawed, went on with his gay banterings. -"Aye, aye, my merry lads, it's a lively leak this hold a cannikin, one of -ye, and let's have a taste. By the Lord, it's worth bottling I tell ye -what, men, old Rad's investment must go for it he had best cut away his part -of the hull and tow it home. The fact is, boys, that swordfish only began -the job he's come back again with a gang of shipcarpenters, sawfish, and -filefish, and what not and the whole posse of 'em are now hard at work -cutting and slashing at the bottom making improvements, I suppose. If old -Rad were here now, I'd tell him to jump overboard and scatter 'em. They're -playing the devil with his estate, I can tell him. But he's a simple old -soul, Rad, and a beauty too. Boys, they say the rest of his property is -invested in lookingglasses. I wonder if he'd give a poor devil like me the -model of his nose." "Damn your eyes what's that pump stopping for?" roared -Radney, pretending not to have heard the sailors' talk. "Thunder away at it" -"Aye, aye, sir," said Steelkilt, merry as a cricket. "Lively, boys, lively, -now" And with that the pump clanged like fifty fireengines the men tossed -their hats off to it, and ere long that peculiar gasping of the lungs was -heard which denotes the fullest tension of life's utmost energies. Quitting -the pump at last, with the rest of his band, the Lakeman went forward all -panting, and sat himself down on the windlass his face fiery red, his eyes -bloodshot, and wiping the profuse sweat from his brow. Now what cozening -fiend it was, gentlemen, that possessed Radney to meddle with such a man in -that corporeally exasperated state, I know not but so it happened. -Intolerably striding along the deck, the mate commanded him to get a broom -and sweep down the planks, and also a shovel, and remove some offensive -matters consequent upon allowing a pig to run at large. Now, gentlemen, -sweeping a ship's deck at sea is a piece of household work which in all times -but raging gales is regularly attended to every evening it has been known to -be done in the case of ships actually foundering at the time. Such, -gentlemen, is the inflexibility of seausages and the instinctive love of -neatness in seamen some of whom would not willingly drown without first -washing their faces. But in all vessels this broom business is the -prescriptive province of the boys, if boys there be aboard. Besides, it was -the stronger men in the TownHo that had been divided into gangs, taking -turns at the pumps and being the most athletic seaman of them all, -Steelkilt had been regularly assigned captain of one of the gangs -consequently he should have been freed from any trivial business not connected -with truly nautical duties, such being the case with his comrades. I mention -all these particulars so that you may understand exactly how this affair stood -between the two men. But there was more than this the order about the -shovel was almost as plainly meant to sting and insult Steelkilt, as though -Radney had spat in his face. Any man who has gone sailor in a whaleship will -understand this and all this and doubtless much more, the Lakeman fully -comprehended when the mate uttered his command. But as he sat still for a -moment, and as he steadfastly looked into the mate's malignant eye and -perceived the stacks of powdercasks heaped up in him and the slowmatch -silently burning along towards them as he instinctively saw all this, that -strange forbearance and unwillingness to stir up the deeper passionateness in -any already ireful being a repugnance most felt, when felt at all, by -really valiant men even when aggrieved this nameless phantom feeling, -gentlemen, stole over Steelkilt. Therefore, in his ordinary tone, only a -little broken by the bodily exhaustion he was temporarily in, he answered him -saying that sweeping the deck was not his business, and he would not do it. -and then, without at all alluding to the shovel, he pointed to three lads as -the customary sweepers who, not being billeted at the pumps, had done little -or nothing all day. To this, Radney replied with an oath, in a most -domineering and outrageous manner unconditionally reiterating his command -meanwhile advancing upon the still seated Lakeman, with an uplifted cooper's -club hammer which he had snatched from a cask near by. Heated and irritated -as he was by his spasmodic toil at the pumps, for all his first nameless -feeling of forbearance the sweating Steelkilt could but ill brook this bearing -in the mate but somehow still smothering the conflagration within him, -without speaking he remained doggedly rooted to his seat, till at last the -incensed Radney shook the hammer within a few inches of his face, furiously -commanding him to do his bidding. Steelkilt rose, and slowly retreating -round the windlass, steadily followed by the mate with his menacing hammer, -deliberately repeated his intention not to obey. Seeing, however, that his -forbearance had not the slightest effect, by an awful and unspeakable -intimation with his twisted hand he warned off the foolish and infatuated man -but it was to no purpose. And in this way the two went once slowly round the -windlass when, resolved at last no longer to retreat, bethinking him that -he had now forborne as much as comported with his humor, the Lakeman paused -on the hatches and thus spoke to the officer "Mr. Radney, I will not obey -you. Take that hammer away, or look to yourself." But the predestinated mate -coming still closer to him, where the Lakeman stood fixed, now shook the -heavy hammer within an inch of his teeth meanwhile repeating a string of -insufferable maledictions. Retreating not the thousandth part of an inch -stabbing him in the eye with the unflinching poniard of his glance, -steelkilt, clenching his right hand behind him and creepingly drawing it back, -told his persecutor that if the hammer but grazed his cheek he Steelkilt -would murder him. But, gentlemen, the fool had been branded for the slaughter -by the gods. Immediately the hammer touched the cheek the next instant the -lower jaw of the mate was stove in his head he fell on the hatch spouting -blood like a whale. Ere the cry could go aft Steelkilt was shaking one of -the backstays leading far aloft to where two of his comrades were standing -their mastheads. They were both Canallers. "Canallers" cried Don Pedro, -"We have seen many whaleships in our harbors, but never heard of your -Canallers. Pardon who and what are they?" "Canallers, Don, are the boatmen -belonging to our grand Erie Canal. You must have heard of it." "Nay, Senor -hereabouts in this dull, warm, most lazy, and hereditary land, we know but -little of your vigorous North." "Aye? Well then, Don, refill my cup. Your -chicha's very fine and ere proceeding further I will tell ye what our -Canallers are for such information may throw sidelight upon my story." -For three hundred and sixty miles, gentlemen, through the entire breadth of -the state of New York through numerous populous cities and most thriving -villages through long, dismal, uninhabited swamps, and affluent, cultivated -fields, unrivalled for fertility by billiardroom and barroom through -the holyofholies of great forests on Roman arches over Indian rivers -through sun and shade by happy hearts or broken through all the wide -contrasting scenery of those noble Mohawk counties and especially, by rows of -snowwhite chapels, whose spires stand almost like milestones, flows one -continual stream of Venetianly corrupt and often lawless life. There's your -true Ashantee, gentlemen there howl your pagans where you ever find them, -next door to you under the longflung shadow, and the snug patronizing lee -of churches. For by some curious fatality, as it is often noted of your -metropolitan freebooters -that they ever encamp around the halls of justice, so sinners, gentlemen, -most abound in holiest vicinities. "Is that a friar passing?" said Don -Pedro, looking downwards into the crowded plazza, with humorous concern. -"Well for our northern friend, Dame Isabella's Inquisition wanes in Lima," -laughed Don Sebastian. "Proceed, Senor." "A moment Pardon" cried another -of the company. "In the name of all us Limeese, I but desire to express to -you, sir sailor, that we have by no means overlooked your delicacy in not -substituting present Lima for distant Venice in your corrupt comparison. Oh -do not bow and look surprised you know the proverb all along this coast -Corrupt as Lima. It but bears out your saying, too churches more -plentiful than billiardtables, and for ever openand Corrupt as Lima. -So, too, Venice I have been there the holy city of the blessed evangelist, -St. Mark St. Dominic, purge it Your cup Thanks here I refill now, -you pour out again." Freely depicted in his own vocation, gentlemen, the -Canaller would make a fine dramatic hero, so abundantly and picturesquely -wicked is he. Like Mark Antony, for days and days along his greenturfed, -flowery Nile, he indolently floats, openly toying with his redcheeked -Cleopatra, ripening his apricot thigh upon the sunny deck. But ashore, all -this effeminacy is dashed. The brigandish guise which the Canaller so proudly -sports his slouched and gailyribboned hat betoken his grand features. A -terror to the smiling innocence of the villages through which he floats his -swart visage and bold swagger are not unshunned in cities. Once a vagabond on -his own canal, I have received good turns from one of these Canallers I -thank him heartily would fain be not ungrateful but it is often one of the -prime redeeming qualities of your man of violence, that at times he has as -stiff an arm to back a poor stranger in a strait, as to plunder a wealthy -one. In sum, gentlemen, what the wildness of this canal life is, is -emphatically evinced by this that our wild whalefishery contains so many of -its most finished graduates, and that scarce any race of mankind, except -Sydney men, are so much distrusted by our whaling captains. Nor does it at -all diminish the curiousness of this matter, that to many thousands of our -rural boys and young men born along its line, the probationary life of the -Grand Canal furnishes the sole transition between quietly reaping in a -Christian cornfield, and recklessly ploughing the waters of the most barbaric -seas. "I see I see " impetuously exclaimed Don Pedro, spilling his -chicha upon his silvery ruffles. "No need to travel The world's one Lima. I -had thought, now, that at your temperate North the generations were cold and -holy as the hills. But the story." I left off, gentlemen, where the Lakeman -shook the backstay. Hardly had he done so, when he was surrounded by the -three junior mates and the four harpooneers, who all crowded him to the deck. -But sliding down the ropes like baleful comets, the two Canallers rushed into -the uproar, and sought to drag their man out of it towards the forecastle. -Others of the sailors joined with them in this attempt, and a twisted turmoil -ensued while standing out of harm's way, the valiant captain danced up and -down with a whalepike, calling upon his officers to manhandle that atrocious -scoundrel, and smoke him along to the quarterdeck. At intervals, he ran -close up to the revolving border of the confusion, and prying into the heart -of it with his pike, sought to prick out the object of his resentment. But -Steelkilt and his desperadoes were too much for them all they succeeded in -gaining the forecastle deck, where, hastily slewing about three or four large -casks in a line with the windlass, these seaParisians entrenched themselves -behind the barricade. "come out of that, ye pirates" roared the captain, -now menacing them with a pistol in each hand, just brought to him by the -steward. "Come out of that, ye cutthroats" Steelkilt leaped on the -barricade, and striding up and down there, defied the worst the pistols could -do but gave the captain to understand distinctly, that his Steelkilt's -death would be the signal for a murderous mutiny on the part of all hands. -Fearing in his heart lest this might prove but too true, the captain a little -desisted, but still commanded the insurgents instantly to return to their -duty. "Will you promise not to touch us, if we do?" demanded their -ringleader. -"Turn to turn to I make no promise to your duty Do you want to sink -the ship, by knocking off at a time like this? Turn to" and he once more -raised a pistol. "Sink the ship?" cried Steelkilt. "Aye, let her sink. Not -a man of us turns to, unless you swear not to raise a ropeyarn against us. -What say ye, men?" turning to his comrades. A fierce cheer was their -response. The Lakeman now patrolled the barricade, all the while keeping -his eye on the Captain, and jerking out such sentences as these "It's not -our fault we didn't want it I told him to take his hammer away it was -boy's business he might have known me before this I told him not to prick -the buffalo I believe I have broken a finger here against his cursed jaw -ain't those mincing knives down in the forecastle there, men? look to those -handspikes, my hearties. Captain, by God, look to yourself say the word -don't be a fool forget it all we are ready to turn to treat us decently, -and we're your men but we won't be flogged." "Turn to I make no -promises, turn to, I say" "Look ye, now," cried the Lakeman, flinging out -his arm towards him. "there are a few of us here and I am one of them who -have shipped for the cruise, d'ye see now as you well know, sir, we can -claim our discharge as soon as the anchor is down so we don't want a row -it's not our interest we want to be peaceable we are ready to work, but we -won't be flogged." "Turn to" roared the Captain. Steelkilt glanced round -him a moment, and then said "I tell you what it is now, Captain, rather -than kill ye, and be hung for such a shabby rascal, we won't lift a hand -against ye unless ye attack us but till you say the word about not flogging -us, we won't do a hand's turn." "Down into the forecastle then, down with -ye, I'll keep ye there till ye're sick of it. Down ye go." "Shall we?" -cried the ringleader to his men. Most of them were against it but at -length, in obedience to Steelkilt, they preceded him down into their dark -den, growlingly disappearing, like bears into a cave. As the Lakeman's bare -head was just level with the planks, -the Captain and his posse leaped the barricade, and rapidly drawing over the -slide of the scuttle, planted their group of hands upon it, and loudly -called for the steward to bring the heavy brass padlock, belonging to the -companionway. Then opening the slide a little, the Captain whispered -something down the crack, closed it, and turned the key upon them ten in -number leaving on deck some twenty or more, who thus far had remained -neutral. All night a wideawake watch was kept by all the officers, forward -and aft, especially about the forecastle scuttle and fore hatchway at which -last place it was feared the insurgents might emerge, after breaking through -the bulkhead below. But the hours of darkness passed in peace the men who -still remained at their duty toiling hard at the pumps, whose clinking and -clanking at intervals through the dreary night dismally resounded through the -ship. at sunrise the captain went forward, and knocking on the deck, -summoned the prisoners to work but with a yell they refused. Water was -then lowered down to them, and a couple of handfuls of biscuit were tossed -after it when again turning the key upon them and pocketing it, the Captain -returned to the quarterdeck. Twice every day for three days this was -repeated but on the fourth morning a confused wrangling, and then a -scuffling was heard, as the customary summons was delivered and suddenly -four men burst up from the forecastle, saying they were ready to turn to. -The fetid closeness of the air, and a famishing diet, united perhaps to some -fears of ultimate retribution, had constrained them to surrender at -discretion. Emboldened by this, the Captain reiterated his demand to the -rest, but Steelkilt shouted up to him a terrific hint to stop his babbling -and betake himself where he belonged. On the fifth morning three others of -the mutineers bolted up into the air from the desperate arms below that sought -to restrain them. Only three were left. "Better turn to, now?" said the -Captain with a heartless jeer. "Shut us up again, will ye" cried Steelkilt. -"Oh certainly," said the Captain and the key clicked. It was at this -point, gentlemen, that enraged by the defection -of seven of his former associates, and stung by the mocking voice that had -last hailed him, and maddened by his long entombment in a place as black as -the bowels of despair it was then that Steelkilt proposed to the two -Canallers, thus far apparently of one mind with him, to burst out of their -hole at the next summoning of the garrison and armed with their keen -mincing knives long, crescentic, heavy implements with a handle at each end -run a muck from the bowsprit to the taffrail and if by any devilishness of -desperation possible, seize the ship. For himself, he would do this, he said, -whether they joined him or not. That was the last night he should spend in -that den. but the scheme met with no opposition on the part of the other two -they swore they were ready for that, or for any other mad thing, for -anything in short but a surrender. And what was more, they each insisted -upon being the first man on deck, when the time to make the rush should come. -But to this their leader as fiercely objected, reserving that priority for -himself particularly as his two comrades would not yield, the one to the -other, in the matter and both of them could not be first, for the ladder -would but admit one man at a time. And here, gentlemen, the foul play of -these miscreants must come out. Upon hearing the frantic project of their -leader, each in his own separate soul had suddenly lighted, it would seem, -upon the same piece of treachery, namely to be foremost in breaking out, -in order to be the first of the three, though the last of the ten, to -surrender and thereby secure whatever small chance of pardon such conduct -might merit. But when Steelkilt made known his determination still to lead -them to the last, they in some way, by some subtle chemistry of villany, -mixed their before secret treacheries together and when their leader fell -into a doze, verbally opened their souls to each other in three sentences -and bound the sleeper with cords, and gagged him with cords and shrieked -out for the Captain at midnight. Thinking murder at hand, and smelling in -the dark for the blood, he and all his armed mates and harpooneers rushed for -the forecastle. In a few minutes the scuttle was opened, and, bound hand -and foot, the still struggling ringleader was shoved up into the air by his -perfidious allies, who at once claimed the -honor of securing a man who had been fully ripe for murder. But all these were -collared, and dragged along the deck like dead cattle and, side by side, -were seized up into the mizen rigging, like three quarters of meat, and there -they hung till morning. "Damn ye," cried the Captain, pacing to and fro -before them, "the vultures would not touch ye, ye villains" At sunrise he -summoned all hands and separating those who had rebelled from those who had -taken no part in the mutiny, he told the former that he had a good mind to -flog them all round thought, upon the whole, he would do so he ought to -justice demanded it but for the present, considering their timely -surrender, he would let them go with a reprimand, which he accordingly -administered in the vernacular. "But as for you, ye carrion rogues," turning -to the three men in the rigging "for you, I mean to mince ye up for the -trypots" and, seizing a rope, he applied it with all his might to the backs -of the two traitors, till they yelled no more, but lifelessly hung their -heads sideways, as the two crucified thieves are drawn. "My wrist is -sprained with ye" he cried, at last "but there is still rope enough left -for you, my fine bantam, that wouldn't give up. Take that gag from his mouth, -and let us hear what he can say for himself." For a moment the exhausted -mutineer made a tremulous motion of his cramped jaws, and then painfully -twisting round his head, said in a sort of hiss, "What I say is this and -mind it well if you flog me, I murder you" "Say ye so? then see how ye -frighten me" and the Captain drew off with the rope to strike. "Best not," -hissed the Lakeman. "But I must," and the rope was once more drawn back for -the stroke. Steelkilt here hissed out something, inaudible to all but the -Captain who, to the amazement of all hands, started back, paced the deck -rapidly two or three times, and then suddenly throwing down his rope, said,"I -won't do it let him gocut him down d'ye hear?" But as the junior mates -were hurrying to execute the order, -a pale man, with a bandaged head, arrested them Radney the chief mate. Ever -since the blow, he had lain in his berth but that morning, hearing the -tumult on the deck, he had crept out, and thus far had watched the whole -scene. Such was the state of his mouth, that he could hardly speak but -mumbling something about his being willing and able to do what the captain -dared not attempt, he snatched the rope and advanced to his pinioned foe. -"You are a coward" hissed the Lakeman. "So I am, but take that." The mate -was in the very act of striking, when another hiss stayed his uplifted arm. -He paused and then pausing no more, made good his word, spite of Steelkilt's -threat, whatever that might have been. The three men were then cut down, -all hands were turned to, and, sullenly worked by the moody seamen, the iron -pumps clanged as before. Just after dark that day, when one watch had retired -below, a clamor was heard in the forecastle and the two trembling traitors -running up, besieged the cabin door, saying they durst not consort with the -crew. Entreaties, cuffs, and kicks could not drive them back, so at their -own instance they were put down in the ship's run for salvation. Still, no -sign of mutiny reappeared among the rest. On the contrary, it seemed, that -mainly at Steelkilt's instigation, they had resolved to maintain the -strictest peacefulness, obey all orders to the last, and, when the ship -reached port, desert her in a body. But in order to insure the speediest end -to the voyage, they all agreed to another thing namely, not to sing out for -whales, in case any should be discovered. For, spite of her leak, and spite -of all her other perils, the TownHo still maintained her mastheads, and -her captain was just as willing to lower for a fish that moment, as on the -day his craft first struck the cruising ground and Radney the mate was quite -as ready to change his berth for a boat, and with his bandaged mouth seek to -gag in death the vital jaw of the whale. But though the Lakeman had induced -the seamen to adopt this sort of passiveness in their conduct, he kept his -own counsel at least till all was over concerning his own proper and -private revenge upon the man who had stung him in the ventricles -of his heart. He was in Radney the chief mate's watch and as if the -infatuated man sought to run more than half way to meet his doom, after the -scene at the rigging, he insisted, against the express counsel of the captain, -upon resuming the head of his watch at night. Upon this, and one or two -other circumstances, Steelkilt systematically built the plan of his revenge. -During the night, Radney had an unseamanlike way of sitting on the -bulwarks of the quarterdeck, and leaning his arm upon the gunwale of the -boat which was hoisted up there, a little above the ship's side. In this -attitude, it was well known, he sometimes dozed. There was a considerable -vacancy between the boat and the ship, and down between this was the sea. -Steelkilt calculated his time, and found that his next trick at the helm -would come round at two o'clock, in the morning of the third day from that in -which he had been betrayed. At his leisure, he employed the interval in -braiding something very carefully in his watches below. "What are you making -there?" said a shipmate. "What do you think? what does it look like?" -"Like a lanyard for your bag but it's an odd one, seems to me." "Yes, -rather oddish," said the Lakeman, holding it at arm's length before him -"but I think it will answer. Shipmate, I haven't enough twine, have you -any?" But there was none in the forecastle. "Then I must get some from old -Rad" and he rose to go aft. "You don't mean to go a begging to him" said -a sailor. "Why not? Do you think he won't do me a turn, when it's to help -himself in the end, shipmate?" and going to the mate, he looked at him -quietly, and asked him for some twine to mend his hammock. It was given him -neither twine nor lanyard were seen again but the next night an iron ball, -closely netted, partly rolled from the pocket of the Lakeman's monkey jacket, -as he was tucking the coat into his hammock for a pillow. Twentyfour hours -after, his trick at the silent helm nigh to the man who was apt to doze over -the grave always ready dug to the seaman's hand that fatal hour was then to -come and in -the foreordaining soul of Steelkilt, the mate was already stark and -stretched as a corpse, with his forehead crushed in. But, gentlemen, a fool -saved the wouldbe murderer from the bloody deed he had planned. Yet complete -revenge he had, and without being the avenger. For by a mysterious fatality, -Heaven itself seemed to step in to take out of his hands into its own the -damning thing he would have done. It was just between daybreak and sunrise of -the morning of the second day, when they were washing down the decks, that -a stupid Teneriffe man, drawing water in the mainchains, all at once -shouted out, "There she rolls there she rolls" Jesu, what a whale It -was Moby Dick. "Moby Dick" cried Don Sebastian "St. Dominic Sir sailor, -but do whales have christenings? Whom call you Moby Dick?" "A very white, -and famous, and most deadly immortal monster, Don but that would be too long -a story." "How? how" cried all the young Spaniards, crowding. "Nay, Dons, -Dons nay, nay I cannot rehearse that now. Let me get more into the air, -Sirs." "The chicha the chicha" cried Don Pedro "our vigorous friend -looks faint fill up his empty glass" No need, gentlemen one moment, and -I proceed. Now, gentlemen, so suddenly perceiving the snowy whale within -fifty yards of the ship forgetful of the compact among the crew in the -excitement of the moment, the Teneriffe man had instinctively and -involuntarily lifted his voice for the monster, though for some little time -past it had been plainly beheld from the three sullen mastheads. All was now -a phrensy. "The White Whale the White Whale" was the cry from captain, -mates, and harpooneers, who, undeterred by fearful rumors, were all anxious -to capture so famous and precious a fish while the dogged crew eyed askance, -and with curses, the appalling beauty of the vast milky mass, that lit up by -a horizontal spangling sun, shifted and glistened like a living opal in the -blue morning sea. Gentlemen, a strange fatality pervades the whole career of -these events, as if verily mapped out before the world itself was charted. -The mutineer was the bowsman of the mate, and when fast to a fish, it was -his duty to sit next him, while Radney stood -up with his lance in the prow, and haul in or slacken the line, at the word -of command. Moreover, when the four boats were lowered, the mate's got the -start and none howled more fiercely with delight than did Steelkilt, as he -strained at his oar. After a stiff pull, their harpooneer got fast, and, -spear in hand, Radney sprang to the bow. He was always a furious man, it -seems, in a boat. And now his bandaged cry was, to beach him on the whale's -topmost back. Nothing loath, his bowsman hauled him up and up, through a -blinding foam that blent two whitenesses together till of a sudden the boat -struck as against a sunken ledge, and keeling over, spilled out the standing -mate. That instant, as he fell on the whale's slippery back, the boat -righted, and was dashed aside by the swell, while Radney was tossed over -into the sea, on the other flank of the whale. He struck out through the -spray, and, for an instant, was dimly seen through that veil, wildly seeking -to remove himself from the eye of Moby Dick. But the whale rushed round in a -sudden maelstrom seized the swimmer between his jaws and rearing high up -with him, plunged headlong again, and went down. Meantime, at the first tap -of the boat's bottom, the Lakeman had slackened the line, so as to drop -astern from the whirlpool calmly looking on, he thought his own thoughts. -But a sudden, terrific, downward jerking of the boat, quickly brought his -knife to the line. He cut it and the whale was free. But, at some -distance, Moby Dick rose again, with some tatters of Radney's red woollen -shirt, caught in the teeth that had destroyed him. All four boats gave chase -again but the whale eluded them, and finally wholly disappeared. In good -time, the TownHo reached her port a savage, solitary place where no -civilized creature resided. There, headed by the Lakeman, all but five or -six of the foremastmen deliberately deserted among the palms eventually, as -it turned out, seizing a large double warcanoe of the savages, and setting -sail for some other harbor. The ship's company being reduced to but a -handful, the captain called upon the Islanders to assist him in the laborious -business of heaving down the ship to stop the leak. But to such unresting -vigilance over their dangerous allies was this small -band of whites necessitated, both by night and by day, and so extreme was the -hard work they underwent, that upon the vessel being ready again for sea, -they were in such a weakened condition that the captain durst not put off with -them in so heavy a vessel. After taking counsel with his officers, he -anchored the ship as far off shore as possible loaded and ran out his two -cannon from the bows stacked his muskets on the poop and warning the -Islanders not to approach the ship at their peril, took one man with him, and -setting the sail of his best whaleboat, steered straight before the wind for -Tahiti, five hundred miles distant, to procure a reinforcement to his crew. -On the fourth day of the sail, a large canoe was descried, which seemed to -have touched at a low isle of corals. He steered away from it but the -savage craft bore down on him and soon the voice of Steelkilt hailed him to -heave to, or he would run him under water. the captain presented a pistol. -With one foot on each prow of the yoked warcanoes, the Lakeman laughed him -to scorn assuring him that if the pistol so much as clicked in the lock, he -would bury him in bubbles and foam. "What do you want of me? cried the -captain. "Where are you bound? and for what are you bound?" demanded -Steelkilt "no lies." "I am bound to Tahiti for more men." "Very good. Let -me board you a moment I come in peace." With that he leaped from the canoe, -swam to the boat and climbing the gunwale, stood face to face with the -captain. "Cross your arms, sir throw back your head. Now, repeat after -me. As soon as Steelkilt leaves me, I swear to beach this boat on yonder -island, and remain there six days. If I do not, may lightnings strike me" -"A pretty scholar," laughed the Lakeman."Adios, Senor" and leaping into the -sea, he swam back to his comrades. Watching the boat till it was fairly -beached, and drawn up to the roots of the cocoanut trees, Steelkilt made sail -again, and in due time arrived at Tahiti, his own place of destination. -There, luck befriended him two ships were about to sail for France, and -were providentially in want of precisely that number -of men which the sailor headed. They embarked and so for ever got the start -of their former captain, had he been at all minded to work them legal -retribution. Some ten days after the French ships sailed, the whaleboat -arrived, and the captain was forced to enlist some of the more civilized -Tahitians, who had been somewhat used to the sea. Chartering a small native -schooner, he returned with them to his vessel and finding all right there, -again resumed his cruisings. Where Steelkilt now is, gentlemen, none know -but upon the island of Nantucket, the widow of Radney still turns to the sea -which refuses to give up its dead still in dreams sees the awful white whale -that destroyed him. "Are you through?" said Don Sebastian, quietly. "I am, -Don." "Then I entreat you, tell me if to the best of your own convictions, -this story is in substance really true? It is so passing wonderful Did you -get it from an unquestionable source? Bear with me if I seem to press." -"Also bear with all of us, sir sailor for we all join in Don Sebastian's -suit," cried the company, with exceeding interest. "Is there a copy of the -Holy Evangelists in the Golden Inn, gentlemen?" "Nay," said Don Sebastian -"but I know a worthy priest near by, who will quickly procure one for me. I -go for it but are you well advised? this may grow too serious." "Will you -be so good as to bring the priest also, Don?" "Though there are no -AutodaFes in Lima now," said one of the company to another "I fear our -sailor friend runs risk of the archiepiscopacy. Let us withdraw more out of -the moonlight. I see no need for this." "Excuse me for running after you, -Don Sebastian but may I also beg that you will be particular in procuring -the largest sized Evangelists you can." "This is the priest, he brings you -the Evangelists," said Don Sebastian, gravely, returning with a tall and -solemn figure. "Let me remove my hat. Now, venerable priest, further into -the light, and hold the Holy Book before me that I may touch it." -"So help me Heaven, and on my honor the story I have told ye, gentlemen, is -in substance and its great items, true. I know it to be true it happened on -this ball I trod the ship I knew the crew I have seen and talked with -Steelkilt since the death of Radney." -The ancient whalecry upon first sighting a whale from the masthead, still -used by whalemen in hunting the famous Gallipagos terrapin. -I shall ere long -paint to you as well as one can without canvas, something like the true form -of the whale as he actually appears to the eye of the whaleman when in his own -absolute body the whale is moored alongside the whaleship so that he can be -fairly stepped upon there. It may be worth while, therefore, previously to -advert to those curious imaginary portraits of him which even down to the -present day confidently challenge the faith of the landsman. It is time to -set the world right in this matter, by proving such pictures of the whale all -wrong. It may be that the primal source of all those pictorial delusions will -be found among the oldest Hindoo, Egyptian, and Grecian sculptures. For ever -since those inventive but unscrupulous times when on the marble panellings of -temples, the pedestals of statues, and on shields, medallions, cups, and -coins, the dolphin was drawn in scales of chainarmor like Saladin's, and a -helmeted head like St. George's ever since then has something of the same -sort of license prevailed, not only in most popular pictures of the whale, -but in many scientific presentations of him. Now, by all odds, the most -ancient extant portrait anyways purporting to be the whale's, is to be found -in the famous cavernpagoda of Elephanta, in India. The Brahmins maintain -that in the almost endless sculptures of that immemorial pagoda, all the -trades and pursuits, every conceivable avocation of man, were prefigured ages -before any of them actually came into being. No wonder then, that in some -sort our noble profession -of whaling should have been there shadowed forth. The Hindoo whale referred -to, occurs in a separate department of the wall, depicting the incarnation of -Vishnu in the form of leviathan, learnedly known as the Matse Avatar. But -though this sculpture is half man and half whale, so as only to give the tail -of the latter, yet that small section of him is all wrong. It looks more -like the tapering tail of an anaconda, than the broad palms of the true -whale's majestic flukes. But go to the old Galleries, and look now at a great -Christian painter's portrait of this fish for he succeeds no better than the -antediluvian Hindoo. It is Guido's picture of Perseus rescuing Andromeda -from the seamonster or whale. Where did Guido get the model of such a -strange creature as that? Nor does Hogarth, in painting the same scene in -his own Perseus Descending, make out one whit better. The huge corpulence -of that Hogarthian monster undulates on the surface, scarcely drawing one -inch of water. It has a sort of howdah on its back, and its distended tusked -mouth into which the billows are rolling, might be taken for the Traitors' -Gate leading from the Thames by water into the Tower. Then, there are the -Prodromus whales of the old Scotch Sibbald, and Jonah's whale, as depicted -in the prints of old Bibles and the cuts of old primers. What shall be said -of these? As for the bookbinder's whale winding like a vinestalk round the -stock of a descending anchor as stamped and gilded on the backs and -titlepages of many books both old and new that is a very picturesque but -purely fabulous creature, imitated, I take it, from the like figures on -antique vases. Though universally denominated a dolphin, I nevertheless call -this bookbinder's fish an attempt at a whale because it was so intended -when the device was first introduced. It was introduced by an old Italian -publisher somewhere about the th century, during the Revival of Learning -and in those days, and even down to a comparatively late period, dolphins -were popularly supposed to be a species of the Leviathan. In the vignettes -and other embellishments of some ancient books you will at times meet with -very curious touches at the whale, where all manner of spouts, jets d'eau, -hot springs and cold, Saratoga and BadenBaden, come bubbling up from his -unexhausted brain. In the titlepage of the original edition of the -Advancement of Learning you will find some curious whales. But quitting all -these unprofessional attempts, let us glance at those pictures of leviathan -purporting to be sober, scientific delineations, by those who know. In old -Harris's collection of voyages there are some plates of whales extracted from -a Dutch book of voyages, A. D. -, entitled A Whaling Voyage to -Spitzbergen in the ship Jonas in the Whale, Peter Peterson of Friesland, -master. In one of those plates the whales, like great rafts of logs, are -represented lying among iceisles, with white bears running over their living -backs. In another plate, the prodigious blunder is made of representing the -whale with perpendicular flukes. Then again, there is an imposing quarto, -written by one Captain Colnett, a Post Captain in the English navy, entitled -A Voyage round Cape Horn into the South Seas, for the purpose of extending -the Spermaceti Whale Fisheries. In this book is an outline purporting to be -a Picture of a Physeter or Spermaceti whale, drawn by scale from one killed -on the coast of Mexico, August, -, and hoisted on deck. I doubt not the -captain had this veracious picture taken for the benefit of his marines. To -mention but one thing about it, let me say that it has an eye which applied, -according to the accompanying scale, to a full grown sperm whale, would make -the eye of that whale a bowwindow some five feet long. Ah, my gallant -captain, why did ye not give us Jonah looking out of that eye Nor are the -most conscientious compilations of Natural History for the benefit of the -young and tender, free from the same heinousness of mistake. Look at that -popular work Goldsmith's Animated Nature. In the abridged London edition of -, there are plates of an alleged whale and a narwhale. I do not wish -to seem inelegant, but this unsightly whale looks much like an amputated sow -and, as for the narwhale, one glimpse at it is enough to amaze one, that in -this nineteenth century such a hippogriff could be palmed for genuine upon any -intelligent public of schoolboys. Then, again, in -, Bernard Germain, -Count de Lacepede, -a great naturalist, published a scientific systemized whale book, wherein are -several pictures of the different species of the Leviathan. All these are -not only incorrect, but the picture of the Mysticetus or Greenland whale -that is to say, the Right whale, even Scoresby, a long experienced man as -touching that species, declares not to have its counterpart in nature. But -the placing of the capsheaf to all this blundering business was reserved for -the scientific Frederick Cuvier, brother to the famous Baron. In -, he -published a Natural History of Whales, in which he gives what he calls a -picture of the Sperm Whale. Before showing that picture to any Nantucketer, -you had best provide for your summary retreat from Nantucket. In a word, -Frederick Cuvier's Sperm Whale is not a Sperm Whale, but a squash. Of course, -he never had the benefit of a whaling voyage such men seldom have, but -whence he derived that picture, who can tell? Perhaps he got it as his -scientific predecessor in the same field, Desmarest, got one of his -authentic abortions that is, from a Chinese drawing. And what sort of -lively lads with the pencil those Chinese are, many queer cups and saucers -inform us. As for the signpainters' whales seen in the streets hanging over -the shops of oildealers, what shall be said of them? They are generally -Richard III. whales, with dromedary humps, and very savage breakfasting on -three or four sailor tarts, that is whaleboats full of mariners their -deformities floundering in seas of blood and blue paint. but these manifold -mistakes in depicting the whale are not so very surprising after all. -Consider Most of the scientific drawings have been taken from the -stranded fish and these are about as correct as a drawing of a wrecked ship, -with broken back, would correctly represent the noble animal itself in all -its undashed pride of hull and spars. Though elephants have stood for their -fulllengths, the living Leviathan has never yet fairly floated himself for -his portrait. The living whale, in his full majesty and significance, is -only to be seen at sea in unfathomable waters and afloat the vast bulk of -him is out of sight, like a launched lineofbattle ship and out of that -element it is a thing eternally impossible for mortal man to hoist -him bodily into the air, so as to preserve all his mighty swells and -undulations. And, not to speak of the highly presumable difference of -contour between a young sucking whale and a fullgrown Platonian Leviathan -yet, even in the case of one of those young sucking whales hoisted to a ship's -deck, such is then the outlandish, eellike, limbered, varying shape of him, -that his precise expression the devil himself could not catch. But it may be -fancied, that from the naked skeleton of the stranded whale, accurate hints -may be derived touching his true form. Not at all. For it is one of the more -curious things about this Leviathan, that his skeleton gives very little idea -of his general shape. Though Jeremy Bentham's skeleton, which hangs for -candelabra in the library of one of his executors, correctly conveys the idea -of a burlybrowed utilitarian old gentleman, with all Jeremy's other leading -personal characteristics yet nothing of this kind could be inferred from -any leviathan's articulated bones. In fact, as the great Hunter says, the -mere skeleton of the whale bears the same relation to the fully invested and -padded animal as the insect does to the chrysalis that so roundingly envelopes -it. This peculiarity is strikingly evinced in the head, as in some part of -this book will be incidentally shown. It is also very curiously displayed in -the side fin, the bones of which almost exactly answer to the bones of the -human hand, minus only the thumb. This fin has four regular bonefingers, -the index, middle, ring, and little finger. But all these are permanently -lodged in their fleshy covering, as the human fingers in an artificial -covering. However recklessly the whale may sometimes serve us, said -humorous Stubb one day, he can never be truly said to handle us without -mittens. For all these reasons, then, any way you may look at it, you must -needs conclude that the great Leviathan is that one creature in the world -which must remain unpainted to the last. True, one portrait may hit the mark -much nearer than another, but none can hit it with any very considerable -degree of exactness. So there is no earthly way of finding out precisely what -the whale really looks like. And the only mode in which you can derive even a -tolerable idea of his living contour, is by -going a whaling yourself but by so doing, you run no small risk of being -eternally stove and sunk by him. Wherefore, it seems to me you had best not -be too fastidious in your curiosity touching this Leviathan. -PICTURES OF WHALING SCENES In connexion with the monstrous pictures of -whales, I am strongly tempted here to enter upon those still more monstrous -stories of them which are to be found in certain books, both ancient and -modern, especially in Pliny, Purchas, Hackluyt, Harris, Cuvier, etc. But I -pass that matter by. i know of only four published outlines of the great Sperm -Whale Colnett's, Huggins's, Frederick Cuvier's, and Beale's. In the -previous chapter Colnett and Cuvier have been referred to. Huggins's is far -better than theirs but, by great odds, Beale's is the best. All Beale's -drawings of this whale are good, excepting the middle figure in the picture of -three whales in various attitudes, capping his second chapter. His -frontispiece, boats attacking Sperm Whales, though no doubt calculated to -excite the civil scepticism of some parlor men, is admirably correct and -lifelike in its general effect. Some of the Sperm Whale drawings in J. Ross -Browne are pretty correct in contour but they are wretchedly engraved. That -is not his fault though. Of the Right Whale, the best outline pictures are in -Scoresby but they are drawn on too small a scale to convey a desirable -impression. He has but one picture of whaling scenes, and this is a sad -deficiency, because it is by such pictures only, when at all well done, -that you can derive anything like a truthful idea of the living whale as seen -by his living hunters. But, taken for all in all, by far the finest, though -in some details not the most correct, presentations of whales and whaling -scenes to be anywhere found, are two large French engravings, well executed, -and taken from paintings by one Garnery. Respectively, they represent -attacks on the Sperm and Right Whale. In the first engraving a noble Sperm -Whale is depicted in full majesty of might, just risen beneath the boat from -the profundities of the ocean, and bearing high in the air upon his back the -terrific wreck of the stoven planks. The prow of the boat is partially -unbroken, and is drawn just balancing upon the monster's spine and standing -in that prow, for that one single incomputable flash of time, you behold an -oarsman, half shrouded by the incensed boiling spout of the whale, and in -the act of leaping, as if from a precipice. The action of the whole thing is -wonderfully good and true. The halfemptied linetub floats on the whitened -sea the wooden poles of the spilled harpoons obliquely bob in it the heads -of the swimming crew are scattered about the whale in contrasting expressions -of affright while in the black stormy distance the ship is bearing down upon -the scene. Serious fault might be found with the anatomical details of this -whale, but let that pass since, for the life of me, I could not draw so -good a one. In the second engraving, the boat is in the act of drawing -alongside the barnacled flank of a large running Right Whale, that rolls his -black weedy bulk in the sea like some mossy rockslide from the Patagonian -cliffs. His jets are erect, full, and black like soot so that from so -abounding a smoke in the chimney, you would think there must be a brave -supper cooking in the great bowels below. Sea fowls are pecking at the small -crabs, shellfish, and other sea candies and maccaroni, which the Right Whale -sometimes carries on his pestilent back. And all the while the thicklipped -leviathan is rushing through the deep, leaving tons of tumultuous white curds -in his wake, and causing the slight boat to rock in the swells like a skiff -caught nigh the paddlewheels of an ocean steamer. Thus, the foreground is -all raging commotion but behind, in admirable artistic contrast, is the -glassy level of a sea becalmed, the drooping unstarched sails of the -powerless ship, and the inert mass of a dead whale, a conquered fortress, -with the flag of capture lazily hanging from the whalepole inserted into his -spouthole. -Who Garnery the painter is, or was, I know not. But my life for it he was -either practically conversant with his subject, or else marvellously tutored -by some experienced whaleman. The French are the lads for painting action. -Go and gaze upon all the paintings in Europe, and where will you find such a -gallery of living and breathing commotion on canvas, as in that triumphal -hall at Versailles where the beholder fights his way, pellmell, through the -consecutive great battles of France where every sword seems a flash of the -Northern Lights, and the successive armed kings and Emperors dash by, like a -charge of crowned centaurs? Not wholly unworthy of a place in that gallery, -are these sea battlepieces of Garnery. The natural aptitude of the French for -seizing the picturesqueness of things seems to be peculiarly evinced in what -paintings and engravings they have of their whaling scenes. With not one -tenth of England's experience in the fishery, and not the thousandth part of -that of the Americans, they have nevertheless furnished both nations with the -only finished sketches at all capable of conveying the real spirit of the -whale hunt. For the most part, the English and American whale draughtsmen -seem entirely content with presenting the mechanical outline of things, such -as the vacant profile of the whale which, so far as picturesqueness of -effect is concerned, is about tantamount to sketching the profile of a -pyramid. Even Scoresby, the justly renowned Right whaleman, after giving us -a stiff full length of the Greenland whale, and three or four delicate -miniatures of narwhales and porpoises, treats us to a series of classical -engravings of boat hooks, chopping knives, and grapnels and with the -microscopic diligence of a Leuwenhoeck submits to the inspection of a -shivering world ninetysix facsimiles of magnified Arctic snow crystals. I -mean no disparagement to the excellent voyager I honor him for a veteran, -but in so important a matter it was certainly an oversight not to have -procured for every crystal a sworn affidavit taken before a Greenland Justice -of the Peace. In addition to those fine engravings from Garnery, there are -two other French engravings worthy of note, by some one who subscribes -himself h. durand. one of them, though not precisely -adapted to our present purpose, nevertheless deserves mention on other -accounts. It is a quiet noonscene among the isles of the Pacific a French -whaler anchored, inshore, in a calm, and lazily taking water on board the -loosened sails of the ship, and the long leaves of the palms in the -background, both drooping together in the breezeless air. The effect is very -fine, when considered with reference to its presenting the hardy fishermen -under one of their few aspects of oriental repose. The other engraving is -quite a different affair the ship hoveto upon the open sea, and in the -very heart of the Leviathanic life, with a Right Whale alongside the vessel -in the act of cuttingin hove over to the monster as if to a quay and a -boat, hurriedly pushing off from this scene of activity, is about giving -chase to whales in the distance. The harpoons and lances lie levelled for -use three oarsmen are just setting the mast in its hole while from a -sudden roll of the sea, the little craft stands halferect out of the water, -like a rearing horse. From the ship, the smoke of the torments of the boiling -whale is going up like the smoke over a village of smithies and to -windward, a black cloud, rising up with earnest of squalls and rains, seems -to quicken the activity of the excited seamen. -SHEETIRON IN STONE IN MOUNTAINS IN STARS On Towerhill, as you go down -to the London docks, you may have seen a crippled beggar or kedger, as the -sailors say holding a painted board before him, representing the tragic -scene in which he lost his leg. There are three whales and three boats and -one of the boats presumed to contain the missing leg in all its original -integrity is being crunched by the jaws of the foremost whale. Any time -these ten years, they tell me, has that man held up that picture, and -exhibited -that stump to an incredulous world. But the time of his justification has now -come. His three whales are as good whales as were ever published in Wapping, -at any rate and his stump as unquestionable a stump as any you will find in -the western clearings. But, though for ever mounted on that stump, never a -stumpspeech does the poor whaleman make but, with downcast eyes, stands -ruefully contemplating his own amputation. Throughout the Pacific, and also -in Nantucket, and New Bedford, and Sag Harbor, you will come across lively -sketches of whales and whalingscenes, graven by the fishermen themselves on -Sperm Whaleteeth, or ladies' busks wrought out of the Right Whalebone, and -other like skrimshander articles, as the whalemen call the numerous little -ingenious contrivances they elaborately carve out of the rough material, in -their hours of ocean leisure. Some of them have little boxes of -dentisticallooking implements, specially intended for the skrimshandering -business. But, in general, they toil with their jackknives alone and, with -that almost omnipotent tool of the sailor, they will turn you out anything -you please, in the way of a mariner's fancy. Long exile from Christendom and -civilization inevitably restores a man to that condition in which God placed -him, i. e. what is called savagery. Your true whalehunter is as much a -savage as an Iroquois. I myself am a savage owning no allegiance but to the -King of the Cannibals and ready at any moment to rebel against him. Now, -one of the peculiar characteristics of the savage in his domestic hours, is -his wonderful patience of industry. An ancient Hawaiian warclub or -spearpaddle, in its full multiplicity and elaboration of carving, is as -great a trophy of human perseverance as a Latin lexicon. For, with but a bit -of broken seashell or a shark's tooth, that miraculous intricacy of wooden -network has been achieved and it has cost steady years of steady -application. As with the Hawaiian savage, so with the white sailorsavage. -With the same marvellous patience, and with the same single shark's tooth, -of his one poor jackknife, he will carve you a bit of bone sculpture, not -quite as workmanlike, but as close -packed in its maziness of design, as the Greek savage, Achilles's shield -and full of barbaric spirit and suggestiveness, as the prints of that fine -old Dutch savage, Albert Durer. Wooden whales, or whales cut in profile out -of the small dark slabs of the noble South Sea warwood, are frequently met -with in the forecastles of American whalers. Some of them are done with much -accuracy. At some old gableroofed country houses you will see brass whales -hung by the tail for knockers to the roadside door. When the porter is -sleepy, the anvilheaded whale would be best. But these knocking whales are -seldom remarkable as faithful essays. On the spires of some oldfashioned -churches you will see sheetiron whales placed there for weathercocks but -they are so elevated, and besides that are to all intents and purposes so -labelled with Hands off you cannot examine them closely enough to decide -upon their merit. In bony, ribby regions of the earth, where at the base of -high broken cliffs masses of rock lie strewn in fantastic groupings upon the -plain, you will often discover images as of the petrified forms of the -Leviathan partly merged in grass, which of a windy day breaks against them in -a surf of green surges. Then, again, in mountainous countries where the -traveller is continually girdled by amphitheatrical heights here and there -from some lucky point of view you will catch passing glimpses of the profiles -of whales defined along the undulating ridges. But you must be a thorough -whaleman, to see these sights and not only that, but if you wish to return -to such a sight again, you must be sure and take the exact intersecting -latitude and longitude of your first standpoint, else so chancelike are -such observations of the hills, that your precise, previous standpoint would -require a laborious rediscovery like the Solomon islands, which still -remain incognita, though once highruffed Mendanna trod them and old Figuera -chronicled them. Nor when expandingly lifted by your subject, can you fail to -trace out great whales in the starry heavens, and boats in pursuit of them -as when long filled with thoughts of war the Eastern nations saw armies locked -in battle among the clouds. Thus at the North have I chased Leviathan round -and round -the Pole with the revolutions of the bright points that first defined him to -me. And beneath the effulgent Antarctic skies I have boarded the ArgoNavis, -and joined the chase against the starry Cetus far beyond the utmost stretch of -Hydrus and the Flying Fish. With a frigate's anchors for my bridlebitts and -fasces of harpoons for spurs, would I could mount that whale and leap the -topmost skies, to see whether the fabled heavens with all their countless -tents really lie encamped beyond my mortal sight -Steering northeastward from the Crozetts, we -fell in with vast meadows of brit, the minute, yellow substance, upon which -the Right Whale largely feeds. For leagues and leagues it undulated round us, -so that we seemed to be sailing through boundless fields of ripe and golden -wheat. On the second day, numbers of Right Whales were seen, who, secure -from the attack of a Sperm Whaler like the Pequod, with open jaws sluggishly -swam through the brit, which, adhering to the fringing fibres of that wondrous -Venetian blind in their mouths, was in that manner separated from the water -that escaped at the lip. As morning mowers, who side by side slowly and -seethingly advance their scythes through the long wet grass of marshy meads -even so these monsters swam, making a strange, grassy, cutting sound and -leaving behind them endless swaths of blue upon the yellow sea. -But it was only the sound they made as they parted the brit which at all -reminded one of mowers. Seen from the mastheads, especially when they paused -and were stationary for a while, their vast black forms looked more like -lifeless masses of rock than anything else. And as in the great hunting -countries of India, the stranger at a distance will sometimes pass on the -plains recumbent elephants without knowing them to be such, taking them for -bare, blackened elevations of the soil even so, often, with him, who for the -first time beholds this species of the leviathans of the sea. And even when -recognised at last, their immense magnitude renders it very hard really to -believe that such bulky masses of overgrowth can possibly be instinct, in all -parts, with the same sort of life that lives in a dog or a horse. Indeed, in -other respects, you can hardly regard any creatures of the deep with the same -feelings that you do those of the shore. For though some old naturalists have -maintained that all creatures of the land are of their kind in the sea and -though taking a broad general view of the thing, this may very well be yet -coming to specialties, where, for example, does the ocean furnish any fish -that in disposition answers to the sagacious kindness of the dog? The -accursed shark alone can in any generic respect be said to bear comparative -analogy to him. But though, to landsmen in general, the native inhabitants -of the seas have ever been regarded with emotions unspeakably unsocial and -repelling though we know the sea to be an everlasting terra incognita, so -that Columbus sailed over numberless unknown worlds to discover his one -superficial western one though, by vast odds, the most terrific of all mortal -disasters have immemorially and indiscriminately befallen tens and hundreds -of thousands of those who have gone upon the waters though but a moment's -consideration will teach, that however baby man may brag of his science and -skill, and however much, in a flattering future, that science and skill may -augment yet for ever and for ever, to the crack of doom, the sea will -insult and murder him, and pulverize the stateliest, stiffest frigate he can -make nevertheless, by the continual repetition of these -very impressions, man has lost that sense of the full awfulness of the sea -which aboriginally belongs to it. The first boat we read of, floated on an -ocean, that with Portuguese vengeance had whelmed a whole world without -leaving so much as a widow. That same ocean rolls now that same ocean -destroyed the wrecked ships of last year. Yea, foolish mortals, Noah's flood -is not yet subsided two thirds of the fair world it yet covers. Wherein -differ the sea and the land, that a miracle upon one is not a miracle upon -the other? Preternatural terrors rested upon the Hebrews, when under the -feet of Korah and his company the live ground opened and swallowed them up for -ever yet not a modern sun ever sets, but in precisely the same manner the -live sea swallows up ships and crews. But not only is the sea such a foe to -man who is an alien to it, but it is also a fiend to its own offspring -worse than the Persian host who murdered his own guests sparing not the -creatures which itself hath spawned. Like a savage tigress that tossing in -the jungle overlays her own cubs, so the sea dashes even the mightiest whales -against the rocks, and leaves them there side by side with the split wrecks -of ships. No mercy, no power but its own controls it. Panting and snorting -like a mad battle steed that has lost its rider, the masterless ocean -overruns the globe. Consider the subtleness of the sea how its most dreaded -creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously -hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure. Consider also the devilish -brilliance and beauty of many of its most remorseless tribes, as the dainty -embellished shape of many species of sharks. Consider, once more, the -universal cannibalism of the sea all whose creatures prey upon each other, -carrying on eternal war since the world began. Consider all this and then -turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth consider them both, the -sea and the land and do you not find a strange analogy to something in -yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the -soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but -encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life. -God keep thee Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return -That part of the sea known among whalemen as the Brazil Banks does not bear -that name as the Banks of Newfoundland do, because of there being shallows -and soundings there, but because of this remarkable meadowlike appearance, -caused by the vast drifts of brit continually floating in those latitudes, -where the Right Whale is often chased. -Slowly wading through the meadows of brit, the -Pequod still held on her way northeastward towards the island of Java a -gentle air impelling her keel, so that in the surrounding serenity her three -tall tapering masts mildly waved to that languid breeze, as three mild palms -on a plain. And still, at wide intervals in the silvery night, the lonely, -alluring jet would be seen. But one transparent blue morning, when a -stillness almost preternatural spread over the sea, however unattended with -any stagnant calm when the long burnished sunglade on the waters seemed a -golden finger laid across them, enjoining some secresy when the slippered -waves whispered together as they softly ran on in this profound hush of the -visible sphere a strange spectre was seen by Daggoo from the mainmasthead. -In the distance, a great white mass lazily rose, and rising higher and -higher, and disentangling itself from the azure, at last gleamed before our -prow like a snowslide, new slid from the hills. Thus glistening for a -moment, as slowly it subsided, and sank. Then once more arose, and silently -gleamed. It seemed not a whale and yet is this Moby Dick? thought Daggoo. -Again the phantom went down, but on reappearing once more, with a -stilettolike cry that startled every man from his nod, the negro yelled out -There there again there she breaches right ahead The White Whale, -the White Whale Upon this, the seamen rushed to the yardarms, as in -swarmingtime the bees rush to the boughs. Bareheaded in the sultry sun, -Ahab stood on the bowsprit, and with one hand pushed far behind in readiness -to wave his orders to the helmsman, cast -his eager glance in the direction indicated aloft by the outstretched -motionless arm of Daggoo. Whether the flitting attendance of the one still and -solitary jet had gradually worked upon Ahab, so that he was now prepared to -connect the ideas of mildness and repose with the first sight of the -particular whale he pursued however this was, or whether his eagerness -betrayed him whichever way it might have been, no sooner did he distinctly -perceive the white mass, than with a quick intensity he instantly gave orders -for lowering. The four boats were soon on the water Ahab's in advance, and -all swiftly pulling towards their prey. Soon it went down, and while, with -oars suspended, we were awaiting its reappearance, lo in the same spot where -it sank, once more it slowly rose. Almost forgetting for the moment all -thoughts of Moby Dick, we now gazed at the most wondrous phenomenon which the -secret seas have hitherto revealed to mankind. A vast pulpy mass, furlongs in -length and breadth, of a glancing creamcolor, lay floating on the water, -innumerable long arms radiating from its centre, and curling and twisting like -a nest of anacondas, as if blindly to clutch at any hapless object within -reach. No perceptible face or front did it have no conceivable token of -either sensation or instinct but undulated there on the billows, an -unearthly, formless, chancelike apparition of life. As with a low sucking -sound it slowly disappeared again, Starbuck still gazing at the agitated -waters where it had sunk, with a wild voice exclaimed Almost rather had I -seen Moby Dick and fought him, than to have seen thee, thou white ghost -What was it, Sir? said Flask. The great live squid, which they say, few -whaleships ever beheld, and returned to their ports to tell of it. But -Ahab said nothing turning his boat, he sailed back to the vessel the rest -as silently following. Whatever superstitions the sperm whalemen in general -have connected with the sight of this object, certain it is, that a glimpse -of it being so very unusual, that circumstance has gone far to invest it with -portentousness. So rarely is it beheld, that though one and all of them -declare it to be the largest animated thing in the ocean, yet very few of -them have any but -the most vague ideas concerning its true nature and form notwithstanding, -they believe it to furnish to the sperm whale his only food. For though other -species of whales find their food above water, and may be seen by man in the -act of feeding, the spermaceti whale obtains his whole food in unknown zones -below the surface and only by inference is it that any one can tell of what, -precisely, that food consists. At times, when closely pursued, he will -disgorge what are supposed to be the detached arms of the squid some of them -thus exhibited exceeding twenty and thirty feet in length. They fancy that -the monster to which these arms belonged ordinarily clings by them to the bed -of the ocean and that the sperm whale, unlike other species, is supplied -with teeth in order to attack and tear it. There seems some ground to imagine -that the great Kraken of Bishop Pontoppodan may ultimately resolve itself into -Squid. The manner in which the Bishop describes it, as alternately rising -and sinking, with some other particulars he narrates, in all this the two -correspond. But much abatement is necessary with respect to the incredible -bulk he assigns it. By some naturalists who have vaguely heard rumors of the -mysterious creature, here spoken of, it is included among the class of -cuttlefish, to which, indeed, in certain external respects it would seem to -belong, but only as the Anak of the tribe. -If I had been astonished at first catching a -glimpse of so outlandish an individual as Queequeg circulating among the -polite society of a civilized town, that astonishment soon departed upon -taking my first daylight stroll through the streets of New Bedford. In -thoroughfares nigh the docks, any considerable seaport will frequently offer -to view the queerest looking nondescripts from foreign parts. Even in -Broadway and Chestnut streets, Mediterranean mariners will sometimes jostle -the affrighted ladies. Regent street is not unknown to Lascars and Malays -and at Bombay, in the Apollo Green, live Yankees have often scared the -natives. But New Bedford beats all Water street and Wapping. In these -lastmentioned haunts you see only sailors but in New Bedford, actual -cannibals stand chatting at street corners savages outright many of whom -yet carry on their bones unholy flesh. It makes a stranger stare. But, -besides the Feegeeans, Tongatabooarrs, Erromanggoans, Pannangians, and -Brighggians, and, besides the wild specimens of the whalingcraft which -unheeded reel about the streets, you will see other sights still more -curious, certainly more comical. -There weekly arrive in this town scores of green Vermonters and New Hampshire -men, all athirst for gain and glory in the fishery. They are mostly young, -of stalwart frames fellows who have felled forests, and now seek to drop -the axe and snatch the whalelance. Many are as green as the Green Mountains -whence they came. In some things you would think them but a few hours old. -Look there that chap strutting round the corner. He wears a beaver hat and -swallowtailed coat, girdled with a sailorbelt and sheathknife. Here comes -another with a sou'wester and a bombazine cloak. No townbred dandy will -compare with a countrybred one I mean a downright bumpkin dandy a fellow -that, in the dogdays, will mow his two acres in buckskin gloves for fear of -tanning his hands. Now when a country dandy like this takes it into his head -to make a distinguished reputation, and joins the great whalefishery, you -should see the comical things he does upon reaching the seaport. In -bespeaking his seaoutfit, he orders bellbuttons to his waistcoats straps -to his canvas trowsers. Ah, poor HaySeed how bitterly will burst those -straps in the first howling gale, when thou art driven, straps, buttons, and -all, down the throat of the tempest. But think not that this famous town has -only harpooneers, cannibals, and bumpkins to show her visitors. Not at all. -Still New Bedford is a queer place. Had it not been for us whalemen, that -tract of land would this day perhaps have been in as howling condition as the -coast of Labrador. As it is, parts of her back country are enough to frighten -one, they look so bony. The town itself is perhaps the dearest place to live -in, in all New England. It is a land of oil, true enough but not like -Canaan a land, also, of corn and wine. The streets do not run with milk -nor in the springtime do they pave them with fresh eggs. Yet, in spite of -this, nowhere in all America will you find more patricianlike houses parks -and gardens more opulent, than in New Bedford. Whence came they? how planted -upon this once scraggy scoria of a country? Go and gaze upon the iron -emblematical harpoons round yonder lofty mansion, and your question will be -answered. Yes all these brave houses and flowery gardens came from the -Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. One and all, they were harpooned and -dragged up hither from the bottom of the sea. Can Herr Alexander perform a -feat like that? In New Bedford, fathers, they say, give whales for dowers to -their daughters, and portion off their nieces with a few porpoises apiece. -You must go to New Bedford to see a brilliant wedding for, they say, they -have reservoirs of oil in every house, and every night recklessly burn their -lengths in spermaceti candles. In summer time, the town is sweet to see -full of fine maples long avenues of green and gold. And in August, high in -air, the beautiful and bountiful horsechestnuts, candelabrawise, proffer -the passerby their tapering upright cones of congregated blossoms. So -omnipotent is art which in many a district of New Bedford has superinduced -bright terraces of flowers upon the barren refuse rocks thrown aside at -creation's final day. And the women of New Bedford, they bloom like their own -red roses. But roses only bloom in summer whereas the fine carnation of -their cheeks is perennial as sunlight in the seventh heavens. Elsewhere match -that bloom of theirs, ye cannot, save in Salem, where they tell me the young -girls breathe such musk, their sailor sweethearts smell them miles off shore, -as though they were drawing nigh the odorous Moluccas instead of the -Puritanic sands. -With reference to the whaling scene shortly to -be described, as well as for the better understanding of all similar scenes -elsewhere presented, I have here to speak of the magical, sometimes horrible -whaleline. The line originally used in the fishery was of the best hemp, -slightly vapored with tar, not impregnated with it, as in the -case of ordinary ropes for while tar, as ordinarily used, makes the hemp -more pliable to the ropemaker, and also renders the rope itself more -convenient to the sailor for common ship use yet, not only would the ordinary -quantity too much stiffen the whaleline for the close coiling to which it -must be subjected but as most seamen are beginning to learn, tar in general -by no means adds to the rope's durability or strength, however much it may -give it compactness and gloss. Of late years the Manilla rope has in the -American fishery almost entirely superseded hemp as a material for -whalelines for, though not so durable as hemp, it is stronger, and far -more soft and elastic and I will add since there is an aesthetics in all -things, is much more handsome and becoming to the boat, than hemp. Hemp is -a dusky, dark fellow, a sort of Indian but Manilla is as a goldenhaired -Circassian to behold. The whale line is only two thirds of an inch in -thickness. At first sight, you would not think it so strong as it really is. -By experiment its one and fifty yarns will each suspend a weight of one -hundred and twenty pounds so that the whole rope will bear a strain nearly -equal to three tons. In length, the common sperm whaleline measures -something over two hundred fathoms. Towards the stern of the boat it is -spirally coiled away in the tub, not like the wormpipe of a still though, -but so as to form one round, cheeseshaped mass of densely bedded sheaves, -or layers of concentric spiralizations, without any hollow but the heart, -or minute vertical tube formed at the axis of the cheese. As the least tangle -or kink in the coiling would, in running out, infallibly take somebody's arm, -leg, or entire body off, the utmost precaution is used in stowing the line in -its tub. Some harpooneers will consume almost an entire morning in this -business, carrying the line high aloft and then reeving it downwards through a -block towards the tub, so as in the act of coiling to free it from all -possible wrinkles and twists. In the English boats two tubs are used instead -of one the same line being continuously coiled in both tubs. There is -some advantage in this because these twintubs being so small they fit more -readily into the boat, and do not strain it so much whereas, the American -tub, nearly three feet in diameter and -of proportionate depth, makes a rather bulky freight for a craft whose planks -are but one halfinch in thickness for the bottom of the whaleboat is like -critical ice, which will bear up a considerable distributed weight, but -not very much of a concentrated one. When the painted canvas cover is clapped -on the american linetub, the boat looks as if it were pulling off with a -prodigious great weddingcake to present to the whales. Both ends of the line -are exposed the lower end terminating in an eyesplice or loop coming up -from the bottom against the side of the tub, and hanging over its edge -completely disengaged from everything. This arrangement of the lower end is -necessary on two accounts. First In order to facilitate the fastening to -it of an additional line from a neighboring boat, in case the stricken whale -should sound so deep as to threaten to carry off the entire line originally -attached to the harpoon. In these instances, the whale of course is shifted -like a mug of ale, as it were, from the one boat to the other though the -first boat always hovers at hand to assist its consort. Second This -arrangement is indispensable for common safety's sake for were the lower end -of the line in any way attached to the boat, and were the whale then to run -the line out to the end almost in a single, smoking minute as he sometimes -does, he would not stop there, for the doomed boat would infallibly be -dragged down after him into the profundity of the sea and in that case no -towncrier would ever find her again. Before lowering the boat for the chase, -the upper end of the line is taken aft from the tub, and passing round the -loggerhead there, is again carried forward the entire length of the boat, -resting crosswise upon the loom or handle of every man's oar, so that it jogs -against his wrist in rowing and also passing between the men, as they -alternately sit at the opposite gunwales, to the leaded chocks or grooves in -the extreme pointed prow of the boat, where a wooden pin or skewer the size -of a common quill, prevents it from slipping out. From the chocks it hangs -in a slight festoon over the bows, and is then passed inside the boat again -and some ten or twenty fathoms called boxline being coiled upon the box in -the bows, it continues its way to the gunwale still a little further aft, -and is then -attached to the shortwarp the rope which is immediately connected with the -harpoon but previous to that connexion, the shortwarp goes through sundry -mystifications too tedious to detail. Thus the whaleline folds the whole -boat in its complicated coils, twisting and writhing around it in almost -every direction. All the oarsmen are involved in its perilous contortions so -that to the timid eye of the landsman, they seem as Indian jugglers, with -the deadliest snakes sportively festooning their limbs. Nor can any son of -mortal woman, for the first time, seat himself amid those hempen -intricacies, and while straining his utmost at the oar, bethink him that at -any unknown instant the harpoon may be darted, and all these horrible -contortions be put in play like ringed lightnings he cannot be thus -circumstanced without a shudder that makes the very marrow in his bones to -quiver in him like a shaken jelly. Yet habit strange thing what cannot -habit accomplish? Gayer sallies, more merry mirth, better jokes, and brighter -repartees, you never heard over your mahogany, than you will hear over the -halfinch white cedar of the whaleboat, when thus hung in hangman's nooses -and, like the six burghers of Calais before King Edward, the six men -composing the crew pull into the jaws of death, with a halter around every -neck, as you may say. Perhaps a very little thought will now enable you to -account for those repeated whaling disasters some few of which are casually -chronicled of this man or that man being taken out of the boat by the line, -and lost. For, when the line is darting out, to be seated then in the boat, -is like being seated in the midst of the manifold whizzings of a steamengine -in full play, when every flying beam, and shaft, and wheel, is grazing you. -It is worse for you cannot sit motionless in the heart of these perils, -because the boat is rocking like a cradle, and you are pitched one way and -the other, without the slightest warning and only by a certain -selfadjusting buoyancy and simultaneousness of volition and action, can you -escape being made a Mazeppa of, and run away with where the allseeing sun -himself could never pierce you out. Again as the profound calm which only -apparently precedes -and prophesies of the storm, is perhaps more awful than the storm itself -for, indeed, the calm is but the wrapper and envelope of the storm and -contains it in itself, as the seemingly harmless rifle holds the fatal powder, -and the ball, and the explosion so the graceful repose of the line, as it -silently serpentines about the oarsmen before being brought into actual play -this is a thing which carries more of true terror than any other aspect of -this dangerous affair. But why say more? All men live enveloped in -whalelines. All are born with halters round their necks but it is only -when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the -silent, subtle, everpresent perils of life. And if you be a philosopher, -though seated in the whaleboat, you would not at heart feel one whit more of -terror, than though seated before your evening fire with a poker, and not a -harpoon, by your side. -If to Starbuck the apparition of -the Squid was a thing of portents, to Queequeg it was quite a different -object. When you see him 'quid, said the savage, honing his harpoon in the -bow of his hoisted boat, then you quick see him 'parm whale. The next day -was exceedingly still and sultry, and with nothing special to engage them, -the Pequod's crew could hardly resist the spell of sleep induced by such a -vacant sea. For this part of the Indian Ocean through which we then were -voyaging is not what whalemen call a lively ground that is, it affords -fewer glimpses of porpoises, dolphins, flyingfish, and other vivacious -denizens of more stirring waters, than those off the Rio de la Plata, or the -inshore ground off Peru. It was my turn to stand at the foremasthead and -with my shoulders leaning against the slackened royal shrouds, to and -fro I idly swayed in what seemed an enchanted air. No resolution could -withstand it in that dreamy mood losing all consciousness, at last my soul -went out of my body though my body still continued to sway as a pendulum -will, long after the power which first moved it is withdrawn. Ere -forgetfulness altogether came over me, I had noticed that the seamen at the -main and mizen mastheads were already drowsy. So that at last all three of -us lifelessly swung from the spars, and for every swing that we made there -was a nod from below from the slumbering helmsman. The waves, too, nodded -their indolent crests and across the wide trance of the sea, east nodded to -west, and the sun over all. Suddenly bubbles seemed bursting beneath my -closed eyes like vices my hands grasped the shrouds some invisible, -gracious agency preserved me with a shock I came back to life. And lo -close under our lee, not forty fathoms off, a gigantic Sperm Whale lay rolling -in the water like the capsized hull of a frigate, his broad, glossy back, of -an Ethiopian hue, glistening in the sun's rays like a mirror. But lazily -undulating in the trough of the sea, and ever and anon tranquilly spouting -his vapory jet, the whale looked like a portly burgher smoking his pipe of a -warm afternoon. But that pipe, poor whale, was thy last. As if struck by -some enchanter's wand, the sleepy ship and every sleeper in it all at once -started into wakefulness and more than a score of voices from all parts of -the vessel, simultaneously with the three notes from aloft, shouted forth the -accustomed cry, as the great fish slowly and regularly spouted the sparkling -brine into the air. clear away the boats luff cried Ahab. And obeying -his own order, he dashed the helm down before the helmsman could handle the -spokes. The sudden exclamations of the crew must have alarmed the whale and -ere the boats were down, majestically turning, he swam away to the leeward, -but with such a steady tranquillity, and making so few ripples as he swam, -that thinking after all he might not as yet be alarmed, Ahab gave orders that -not an oar should be used, and no man must speak but in whispers. So seated -like Ontario Indians on the gunwales of the boats, -we swiftly but silently paddled along the calm not admitting of the -noiseless sails being set. Presently, as we thus glided in chase, the -monster perpendicularly flitted his tail forty feet into the air, and then -sank out of sight like a tower swallowed up. There go flukes was the cry, -an announcement immediately followed by Stubb's producing his match and -igniting his pipe, for now a respite was granted. After the full interval of -his sounding had elapsed, the whale rose again, and being now in advance of -the smoker's boat, and much nearer to it than to any of the others, Stubb -counted upon the honor of the capture. It was obvious, now, that the whale -had at length become aware of his pursuers. All silence of cautiousness was -therefore no longer of use. Paddles were dropped, and oars came loudly into -play. And still puffing at his pipe, Stubb cheered on his crew to the -assault. Yes, a mighty change had come over the fish. All alive to his -jeopardy, he was going head out that part obliquely projecting from the -mad yeast which he brewed. Start her, start her, my men Don't hurry -yourselves take plenty of time but start her start her like -thunderclaps, that's all, cried Stubb, spluttering out the smoke as he -spoke. start her, now give 'em the long and strong stroke, tashtego. -Start her, Tash, my boy start her, all but keep cool, keep cool -cucumbers is the word easy, easy only start her like grim death and -grinning devils, and raise the buried dead perpendicular out of their graves, -boys that's all. Start her Woohoo Wahee screamed the GayHeader in -reply, raising some old warwhoop to the skies as every oarsman in the -strained boat involuntarily bounced forward with the one tremendous leading -stroke which the eager Indian gave. -But his wild screams were answered by others quite as wild. Keehee -Keehee yelled Daggoo, straining forwards and backwards on his seat, -like a pacing tiger in his cage. Kala Kooloo howled Queequeg, as if -smacking his lips over a mouthful of Grenadier's steak. And thus with oars -and yells the keels cut the sea. Meanwhile, Stubb retaining his place in the -van, still encouraged his men to the onset, all the while puffing the smoke -from his mouth. Like desperadoes they tugged and they strained, till the -welcome cry was heard Stand up, Tashtego give it to him The harpoon was -hurled. Stern all The oarsmen backed water the same moment something -went hot and hissing along every one of their wrists. It was the magical -line. An instant before, Stubb had swiftly caught two additional turns with -it round the loggerhead, whence, by reason of its increased rapid circlings, -a hempen blue smoke now jetted up and mingled with the steady fumes from his -pipe. As the line passed round and round the loggerhead so also, just -before reaching that point, it blisteringly passed through and through both -of Stubb's hands, from which the handcloths, or squares of quilted canvas -sometimes worn at these times, had accidentally dropped. It was like holding -an enemy's sharp twoedged sword by the blade, and that enemy all the time -striving to wrest it out of your clutch. Wet the line wet the line cried -stubb to the tub oarsman him seated by the tub who, snatching off his hat, -dashed the seawater into it. More turns were taken, so that the line began -holding its place. The boat now flew through the boiling water like a shark -all fins. Stubb and Tashtego here changed places stem for stern a -staggering business truly in that rocking commotion. From the vibrating line -extending the entire length of the upper part of the boat, and from its now -being more tight than a harpstring, you would have thought the craft had two -keels one cleaving the water, the other the air as the boat churned -on through both opposing elements at once. A continual cascade played at the -bows a ceaseless whirling eddy in her wake and, at the slightest motion -from within, even but of a little finger, the vibrating, cracking craft -canted over her spasmodic gunwale into the sea. Thus they rushed each man -with might and main clinging to his seat, to prevent being tossed to the -foam and the tall form of Tashtego at the steering oar crouching almost -double, in order to bring down his centre of gravity. Whole Atlantics and -Pacifics seemed passed as they shot on their way, till at length the whale -somewhat slackened his flight. Haul in haul in cried Stubb to the -bowsman and, facing round towards the whale, all hands began pulling the -boat up to him, while yet the boat was being towed on. Soon ranging up by -his flank, Stubb, firmly planting his knee in the clumsy cleat, darted dart -after dart into the flying fish at the word of command, the boat -alternately sterning out of the way of the whale's horrible wallow, and then -ranging up for another fling. The red tide now poured from all sides of the -monster like brooks down a hill. His tormented body rolled not in brine but -in blood, which bubbled and seethed for furlongs behind in their wake. The -slanting sun playing upon this crimson pond in the sea, sent back its -reflection into every face, so that they all glowed to each other like red -men. And all the while, jet after jet of white smoke was agonizingly shot -from the spiracle of the whale, and vehement puff after puff from the mouth -of the excited headsman as at every dart, hauling in upon his crooked -lance by the line attached to it, Stubb straightened it again and again, -by a few rapid blows against the gunwale, then again and again sent it into -the whale. Pull up pull up he now cried to the bowsman, as the waning -whale relaxed in his wrath. Pull up close to and the boat ranged along -the fish's flank. When reaching far over the bow, Stubb slowly churned his -long sharp lance into the fish, and kept it there, carefully churning and -churning, as if cautiously seeking to feel after some gold watch that the -whale might have swallowed, and which he was fearful of breaking ere he -could hook it out. But that gold watch he sought was the innermost life of -the fish. And now it is struck for, starting -from his trance into that unspeakable thing called his flurry, the monster -horribly wallowed in his blood, overwrapped himself in impenetrable, mad, -boiling spray, so that the imperilled craft, instantly dropping astern, had -much ado blindly to struggle out from that phrensied twilight into the clear -air of the day. And now abating in his flurry, the whale once more rolled -out into view surging from side to side spasmodically dilating and -contracting his spouthole, with sharp, cracking, agonized respirations. At -last, gush after gush of clotted red gore, as if it had been the purple lees -of red wine, shot into the frighted air and falling back again, ran dripping -down his motionless flanks into the sea. His heart had burst He's dead, -Mr. Stubb, said Daggoo. Yes both pipes smoked out and withdrawing his -own from his mouth, Stubb scattered the dead ashes over the water and, for -a moment, stood thoughtfully eyeing the vast corpse he had made. -It will be seen in some other place of what a very light substance the entire -interior of the sperm whale's enormous head consists. Though apparently the -most massive, it is by far the most buoyant part about him. So that with ease -he elevates it in the air, and invariably does so when going at his utmost -speed. Besides, such is the breadth of the upper part of the front of his -head, and such the tapering cutwater formation of the lower part, that by -obliquely elevating his head, he thereby may be said to transform himself -from a bluffbowed sluggish galliot into a sharppointed New York -pilotboat. -Partly to show the indispensableness of this act, it may here be stated, -that, in the old Dutch fishery, a mop was used to dash the running line with -water in many other ships, a wooden piggin, or bailer, is set apart for -that purpose. Your hat, however, is the most convenient. -A word concerning an incident in the last -chapter. According to the invariable usage of the fishery, the whaleboat -pushes off from the ship, with the headsman or whalekiller as temporary -steersman, and the harpooneer or whalefastener pulling the foremost oar, -the one known as the harpooneeroar. Now it needs a strong, nervous arm to -strike the first iron into the fish for often, in what is called a long -dart, the heavy implement has to be flung to the distance of twenty or thirty -feet. But however prolonged and exhausting the chase, the harpooneer is -expected to pull his oar meanwhile to the uttermost indeed, he is expected -to set an example of superhuman activity to the rest, not only by incredible -rowing, but by repeated loud and intrepid exclamations and what it is to -keep shouting at the top of one's compass, while all the other -muscles are strained and half started what that is none know but those who -have tried it. For one, I cannot bawl very heartily and work very recklessly -at one and the same time. In this straining, bawling state, then, with his -back to the fish, all at once the exhausted harpooneer hears the exciting cry -Stand up, and give it to him He now has to drop and secure his oar, -turn round on his centre half way, seize his harpoon from the crotch, and -with what little strength may remain, he essays to pitch it somehow into the -whale. No wonder, taking the whole fleet of whalemen in a body, that out of -fifty fair chances for a dart, not five are successful no wonder that so -many hapless harpooneers are madly cursed and disrated no wonder that some -of them actually burst their bloodvessels in the boat no wonder that some -sperm whalemen are absent four years with four barrels no wonder that to -many ship owners, whaling is but a losing concern for it is the harpooneer -that makes the voyage, and if you take the breath out of his body how can -you expect to find it there when most wanted Again, if the dart be -successful, then at the second critical instant, that is, when the whale -starts to run, the boatheader and harpooneer likewise start to running fore -and aft, to the imminent jeopardy of themselves and every one else. It is -then they change places and the headsman, the chief officer of the little -craft, takes his proper station in the bows of the boat. Now, I care not who -maintains the contrary, but all this is both foolish and unnecessary. The -headsman should stay in the bows from first to last he should both dart the -harpoon and the lance, and no rowing whatever should be expected of him, -except under circumstances obvious to any fisherman. I know that this would -sometimes involve a slight loss of speed in the chase but long experience in -various whalemen of more than one nation has convinced me that in the vast -majority of failures in the fishery, it has not by any means been so much -the speed of the whale as the before described exhaustion of the harpooneer -that has caused them. To insure the greatest efficiency in the dart, the -harpooneers of this world must start to their feet from out of idleness, and -not from out of toil. -Out of the trunk, the branches grow out -of them, the twigs. So, in productive subjects, grow the chapters. The crotch -alluded to on a previous page deserves independent mention. It is a notched -stick of a peculiar form, some two feet in length, which is perpendicularly -inserted into the starboard gunwale near the bow, for the purpose of -furnishing a rest for the wooden extremity of the harpoon, whose other -naked, barbed end slopingly projects from the prow. Thereby the weapon is -instantly at hand to its hurler, who snatches it up as readily from its rest -as a backwoodsman swings his rifle from the wall. It is customary to have two -harpoons reposing in the crotch, respectively called the first and second -irons. But these two harpoons, each by its own cord, are both connected with -the line the object being this to dart them both, if possible, one -instantly after the other into the same whale so that if, in the coming drag, -one should draw out, the other may still retain a hold. It is a doubling of -the chances. But it very often happens that owing to the instantaneous, -violent, convulsive running of the whale upon receiving the first iron, it -becomes impossible for the harpooneer, however lightninglike in his -movements, to pitch the second iron into him. Nevertheless, as the second -iron is already connected with the line, and the line is running, hence that -weapon must, at all events, be anticipatingly tossed out of the boat, -somehow and somewhere else the most terrible jeopardy would involve all -hands. Tumbled into the water, it accordingly is in such cases the spare -coils of box line mentioned in a preceding chapter making this feat, in -most instances, prudently practicable. But this critical act is not always -unattended with the saddest and most fatal casualties. Furthermore you must -know that when the second iron is thrown overboard, it thenceforth becomes a -dangling, sharpedged -terror, skittishly curvetting about both boat and whale, entangling the lines, -or cutting them, and making a prodigious sensation in all directions. Nor, -in general, is it possible to secure it again until the whale is fairly -captured and a corpse. Consider, now, how it must be in the case of four boats -all engaging one unusually strong, active, and knowing whale when owing to -these qualities in him, as well as to the thousand concurring accidents of -such an audacious enterprise, eight or ten loose second irons may be -simultaneously dangling about him. For, of course, each boat is supplied with -several harpoons to bend on to the line should the first one be ineffectually -darted without recovery. All these particulars are faithfully narrated here, -as they will not fail to elucidate several most important, however intricate -passages, in scenes hereafter to be painted. -Stubb's whale had been killed some -distance from the ship. It was a calm so, forming a tandem of three boats, -we commenced the slow business of towing the trophy to the Pequod. And now, -as we eighteen men with our thirtysix arms, and one hundred and eighty -thumbs and fingers, slowly toiled hour after hour upon that inert, sluggish -corpse in the sea and it seemed hardly to budge at all, except at long -intervals good evidence was hereby furnished of the enormousness of the mass -we moved. For, upon the great canal of HangHo, or whatever they call it, in -China, four or five laborers on the footpath will draw a bulky freighted -junk at the rate of a mile an hour but this grand argosy we towed heavily -forged along, as if laden with piglead in bulk. Darkness came on but -three lights up and down in the Pequod's mainrigging dimly guided our way -till drawing nearer we saw Ahab dropping one of several more lanterns over the -bulwarks. Vacantly eyeing the heaving whale for a moment, he issued the usual -orders for securing it for the night, and then handing his lantern to a -seaman, went his way into the cabin, and did not come forward again until -morning. Though, in overseeing the pursuit of this whale, Captain Ahab had -evinced his customary activity, to call it so yet now that the creature was -dead, some vague dissatisfaction, or impatience, or despair, seemed working -in him as if the sight of that dead body reminded him that Moby Dick was -yet to be slain and though a thousand other whales were brought to his ship, -all that would not one jot advance his grand, monomaniac object. Very soon -you would have thought from the sound on the Pequod's decks, that all hands -were preparing to cast anchor in the deep for heavy chains are being dragged -along the deck, and thrust rattling out of the portholes. But by those -clanking links, the vast corpse itself, not the ship, is to be moored. Tied -by the head to the stern, and by the tail to the bows, the whale now lies -with its black hull close to the vessel's, and seen through the darkness of -the night, which obscured the spars and rigging aloft, the two ship and -whale, seemed yoked together like colossal bullocks, whereof one reclines -while the other remains standing. If moody Ahab was now all quiescence, at -least so far as could be known on deck, Stubb, his second mate, flushed with -conquest, betrayed an unusual but still goodnatured excitement. Such an -unwonted bustle was he in that the staid Starbuck, his -official superior, quietly resigned to him for the time the sole management -of affairs. One small, helping cause of all this liveliness in Stubb, was -soon made strangely manifest. Stubb was a high liver he was somewhat -intemperately fond of the whale as a flavorish thing to his palate. A steak, -a steak, ere I sleep You, Daggoo overboard you go, and cut me one from -his small Here be it known, that though these wild fishermen do not, as a -general thing, and according to the great military maxim, make the enemy -defray the current expenses of the war at least before realizing the -proceeds of the voyage, yet now and then you find some of these Nantucketers -who have a genuine relish for that particular part of the Sperm Whale -designated by Stubb comprising the tapering extremity of the body. About -midnight that steak was cut and cooked and lighted by two lanterns of sperm -oil, Stubb stoutly stood up to his spermaceti supper at the capstanhead, -as if that capstan were a sideboard. Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on -whale's flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastications, -thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, -smackingly feasted on its fatness. The few sleepers below in their bunks were -often startled by the sharp slapping of their tails against the hull, within -a few inches of the sleepers' hearts. Peering over the side you could just -see them as before you heard them wallowing in the sullen, black waters, -and turning over on their backs as they scooped out huge globular pieces of -the whale of the bigness of a human head. This particular feat of the shark -seems all but miraculous. How, at such an apparently unassailable surface, -they contrive to gouge out such symmetrical mouthfuls, remains a part of the -universal problem of all things. The mark they thus leave on the whale, may -best be likened to the hollow made by a carpenter in countersinking for a -screw. Though amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a seafight, -sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship's decks, like hungry dogs -round a table where red meat is being carved, ready to bolt down every killed -man that is tossed to them and though, while the valiant butchers over the -decktable are -thus cannibally carving each other's live meat with carvingknives all gilded -and tasselled, the sharks, also, with their jewelhilted mouths, are -quarrelsomely carving away under the table at the dead meat and though, were -you to turn the whole affair upside down, it would still be pretty much the -same thing, that is to say, a shocking sharkish business enough for all -parties and though sharks also are the invariable outriders of all slave -ships crossing the Atlantic, systematically trotting alongside, to be handy -in case a parcel is to be carried anywhere, or a dead slave to be decently -buried and though one or two other like instances might be set down, -touching the set terms, places, and occasions, when sharks do most socially -congregate, and most hilariously feast yet is there no conceivable time or -occasion when you will find them in such countless numbers, and in gayer or -more jovial spirits, than around a dead sperm whale, moored by night to a -whaleship at sea. If you have never seen that sight, then suspend your -decision about the propriety of devilworship, and the expediency of -conciliating the devil. But, as yet, Stubb heeded not the mumblings of the -banquet that was going on so nigh him, no more than the sharks heeded the -smacking of his own epicurean lips. Cook, cook where's that old Fleece? -he cried at length, widening his legs still further, as if to form a more -secure base for his supper and, at the same time darting his fork into the -dish, as if stabbing with his lance cook, you cook sail this way, cook -the old black, not in any very high glee at having been previously routed from -his warm hammock at a most unseasonable hour, came shambling along from his -galley, for, like many old blacks, there was something the matter with his -kneepans, which he did not keep well scoured like his other pans this old -Fleece, as they called him, came shuffling and limping along, assisting his -step with his tongs, which, after a clumsy fashion, were made of straightened -iron hoops this old Ebony floundered along, and in obedience to the word of -command, came to a dead stop on the opposite side of Stubb's sideboard -when, -with both hands folded before him, and resting on his twolegged cane, he -bowed his arched back still further over, at the same time sideways inclining -his head, so as to bring his best ear into play. Cook, said Stubb, rapidly -lifting a rather reddish morsel to his mouth, don't you think this steak is -rather overdone? You've been beating this steak too much, cook it's too -tender. Don't I always say that to be good, a whalesteak must be tough? -There are those sharks now over the side, don't you see they prefer it tough -and rare? What a shindy they are kicking up Cook, go and talk to 'em tell -'em they are welcome to help themselves civilly, and in moderation, but they -must keep quiet. Blast me, if I can hear my own voice. Away, cook, and -deliver my message. Here, take this lantern, snatching one from his -sideboard now then, go and preach to 'em Sullenly taking the offered -lantern, old Fleece limped across the deck to the bulwarks and then, with -one hand dropping his light low over the sea, so as to get a good view of -his congregation, with the other hand he solemnly flourished his tongs, and -leaning far over the side in a mumbling voice began addressing the sharks, -while Stubb, softly crawling behind, overheard all that was said. -Fellowcritters I'se ordered here to say dat you must stop dat dam noise -dare. you hear? stop dat dam smackin' ob de lip massa Stubb say dat you -can fill your dam bellies up to de hatchings, but by Gor you must stop dat -dam racket Cook, here interposed Stubb, accompanying the word with a -sudden slap on the shoulder, Cook why, damn your eyes, you mustn't swear -that way when you're preaching. That's no way to convert sinners, Cook -Who dat? Den preach to him yourself, sullenly turning to go. No, Cook -go on, go on. Well, den, Belubed fellowcritters Right exclaimed -Stubb, approvingly, coax 'em to it try that, and Fleece continued. Do -you is all sharks, and by natur wery woracious, yet I -zay to you, fellowcritters, dat dat woraciousness 'top dat dam slappin' ob -de tail How you tink to hear, 'spose you keep up such a dam slappin' and -bitin' dare? Cook, cried Stubb, collaring him, I wont have that swearing. -Talk to 'em gentlemanly. Once more the sermon proceeded. Your -woraciousness, fellowcritters, I don't blame ye so much for dat is natur, -and can't be helped but to gobern dat wicked natur, dat is de pint. You is -sharks, sartin but if you gobern de shark in you, why den you be angel for -all angel is not'ing more dan de shark well goberned. Now, look here, -bred'ren, just try wonst to be cibil, a helping yourselbs from dat whale. -Don't be tearin' de blubber out your neighbour's mout, I say. Is not one -shark dood right as toder to dat whale? And, by Gor, none on you has de right -to dat whale dat whale belong to some one else. I know some o' you has -berry brig mout, brigger dan oders but den de brig mouts sometimes has de -small bellies so dat de brigness ob de mout is not to swallar wid, but to -bite off de blubber for de small fry ob sharks, dat can't get into de scrouge -to help demselves. Well done, old Fleece cried Stubb, that's -Christianity go on. No use goin' on de dam willains will keep a -scrougin' and slappin' each oder, Massa Stubb dey don't hear one word no -use apreachin' to such dam g'uttons as you call 'em, till dare bellies is -full, and dare bellies is bottomless and when dey do get em full, dey wont -hear you den for den dey sink in de sea, go fast to sleep on de coral, and -can't hear not'ing at all, no more, for eber and eber. Upon my soul, I am -about of the same opinion so give the benediction, Fleece, and I'll away to -my supper. Upon this, Fleece, holding both hands over the fishy mob, raised -his shrill voice, and cried Cussed fellowcritters Kick up de damndest -row as ever you can fill your dam' bellies 'till dey bust and den die. -Now, cook, said Stubb, resuming his supper at the capstan Stand just where -you stood before, there, over against me, and pay particular attention. -All dention, said Fleece, again stooping over upon his tongs in the -desired position. Well, said Stubb, helping himself freely meanwhile I -shall now go back to the subject of this steak. In the first place, how old -are you, cook? What dat do wid de 'teak, said the old black, testily. -Silence How old are you, cook? 'Bout ninety, dey say, he gloomily -muttered. And have you lived in this world hard upon one hundred years, -cook, and don't know yet how to cook a whalesteak? rapidly bolting another -mouthful at the last word, so that that morsel seemed a continuation of the -question. Where were you born, cook? 'Hind de hatchway, in ferryboat, -goin' ober de Roanoke. Born in a ferryboat That's queer, too. But I want -to know what country you were born in, cook? Didn't I say de Roanoke -country? he cried, sharply. No, you didn't, cook but I'll tell you what -I'm coming to, cook. You must go home and be born over again you don't -know how to cook a whalesteak yet. Bress my soul, if I cook noder one, he -growled, angrily, turning round to depart. Come back, cook here, hand me -those tongs now take that bit of steak there, and tell me if you think that -steak cooked as it should be? Take it, I say holding the tongs towards him -take it, and taste it. Faintly smacking his withered lips over it for a -moment, the old negro muttered, Best cooked 'teak I eber taste joosy, -berry joosy. Cook, said Stubb, squaring himself once more do you -belong to the church? Passed one once in CapeDown, said the old man -sullenly. And you have once in your life passed a holy church in CapeTown, -where you doubtless overheard a holy parson addressing his hearers as his -beloved fellowcreatures, have you, cook And yet you come here, and tell -me such a dreadful lie as you did just now, eh? said Stubb. Where do you -expect to go to, cook? -Go to bed berry soon, he mumbled, halfturning as he spoke. Avast heave -to I mean when you die, cook. It's an awful question. Now what's your -answer? When dis old brack man dies, said the negro slowly, changing his -whole air and demeanor, he hisself won't go nowhere but some bressed angel -will come and fetch him. Fetch him? How? In a coach and four, as they -fetched Elijah? And fetch him where? Up dere, said Fleece, holding his -tongs straight over his head, and keeping it there very solemnly. So, then, -you expect to go up into our maintop, do you, cook, when you are dead? -But don't you know the higher you climb, the colder it gets? Maintop, eh? -Didn't say dat t'all, said Fleece, again in the sulks. You said up there, -didn't you, and now look yourself, and see where your tongs are pointing. -But, perhaps you expect to get into heaven by crawling through the lubber's -hole, cook but no, no, cook, you don't get there, except you go the -regular way, round by the rigging. It's a ticklish business, but must be -done, or else it's no go. But none of us are in heaven yet. Drop your -tongs, cook, and hear my orders. Do ye hear? Hold your hat in one hand, and -clap t'other a'top of your heart, when I'm giving my orders, cook. What -that your heart, there? that's your gizzard Aloft aloft that's it now -you have it. Hold it there now, and pay attention. All 'dention, said -the old black, with both hands placed as desired, vainly wriggling his -grizzled head, as if to get both ears in front at one and the same time. -Well then, cook you see this whalesteak of yours was so very bad, that I -have put it out of sight as soon as possible you see that, don't you? Well, -for the future, when you cook another whalesteak for my private table here, -the capstan, I'll tell you what to do so as not to spoil it by overdoing. -Hold the steak in one hand, and show a live coal to it with the other that -done, dish it d'ye hear? And now tomorrow, cook, when we are cutting in -the fish, be sure you stand by to get the tips of his fins have them put in -pickle. As for the ends of the flukes, have them soused, cook. There, now -ye may go. -But Fleece had hardly got three paces off, when he was recalled. Cook, give -me cutlets for supper tomorrow night in the midwatch. D'ye hear? away you -sail, then. Halloa stop make a bow before you go. Avast heaving again -Whaleballs for breakfast don't forget. Wish, by gor whale eat him, -'stead of him eat whale. I'm bressed if he ain't more of shark dan Massa -Shark hisself, muttered the old man, limping away with which sage -ejaculation he went to his hammock. -A little item may as well be related here. The strongest and most reliable -hold which the ship has upon the whale when moored alongside, is by the flukes -or tail and as from its greater density that part is relatively heavier -than any other excepting the sidefins, its flexibility even in death, -causes it to sink low beneath the surface so that with the hand you -cannot get at it from the boat, in order to put the chain round it. But -this difficulty is ingeniously overcome a small, strong line is prepared -with a wooden float at its outer end, and a weight in its middle, while the -other end is secured to the ship. By adroit management the wooden float is -to rise on the other side of the mass, so that now having girdled the made -whale, the chain is readily made to follow suit and being slipped along the -body, is at last locked fast round the smallest part of the tail, at the -point of junction with its broad flukes or lobes. -That mortal man should feed upon -the creature that feeds his lamp, and, like Stubb, eat him by his own light, -as you may say this seems so outlandish a thing that one must needs go a -little into the history and philosophy of it. It is upon record, that three -centuries ago the tongue of the Right Whale was esteemed a great delicacy in -France, and commanded large prices there. Also, that in Henry VIIIth's -time, a certain cook of the court obtained a handsome reward for inventing an -admirable sauce to be eaten with barbacued porpoises, which, you remember, -are a species of whale. Porpoises, indeed, are to this day considered fine -eating. The meat is made into balls about the size of billiard balls, and -being well seasoned and spiced might be taken for turtleballs or veal balls. -The old monks of Dunfermline were very fond of them. They had a great -porpoise grant from the crown. The fact is, that among his hunters at least, -the whale would by all hands be considered a noble dish, were there not so -much of him but when you come to sit down before a meatpie nearly one -hundred feet long, it takes away your appetite. Only the most unprejudiced -of men like Stubb, nowadays partake of -cooked whales but the Esquimaux are not so fastidious. We all know how they -live upon whales, and have rare old vintages of prime old train oil. -Zogranda, one of their most famous doctors, recommends strips of blubber for -infants, as being exceedingly juicy and nourishing. And this reminds me -that certain Englishmen, who long ago were accidentally left in Greenland by -a whaling vessel that these men actually lived for several months on the -mouldy scraps of whales which had been left ashore after trying out the -blubber. Among the Dutch whalemen these scraps are called fritters which, -indeed, they greatly resemble, being brown and crisp, and smelling -something like old Amsterdam housewives' doughnuts or olycooks, when fresh. -They have such an eatable look that the most selfdenying stranger can hardly -keep his hands off. But what further depreciates the whale as a civilized -dish, is his exceeding richness. He is the great prize ox of the sea, too -fat to be delicately good. Look at his hump, which would be as fine eating -as the buffalo's which is esteemed a rare dish, were it not such a solid -pyramid of fat. But the spermaceti itself, how bland and creamy that is -like the transparent, halfjellied, white meat of a cocoanut in the third -month of its growth, yet far too rich to supply a substitute for butter. -Nevertheless, many whalemen have a method of absorbing it into some other -substance, and then partaking of it. In the long try watches of the night it -is a common thing for the seamen to dip their shipbiscuit into the huge -oilpots and let them fry there awhile. Many a good supper have I thus made. -In the case of a small Sperm Whale the brains are accounted a fine dish. The -casket of the skull is broken into with an axe, and the two plump, whitish -lobes being withdrawn precisely resembling two large puddings, they are -then mixed with flour, and cooked into a most delectable mess, in flavor -somewhat resembling calves' head, which is quite a dish among some epicures -and every one knows that some young bucks among the epicures, by continually -dining upon calves' brains, by and by get to have a little brains of their -own, so as to be able to tell a calf's head from their own heads which, -indeed, requires uncommon discrimination. And that is the reason why -a young buck with an intelligent looking calf's head before him, is somehow -one of the saddest sights you can see. The head looks a sort of reproachfully -at him, with an Et tu Brute expression. It is not, perhaps, entirely -because the whale is so excessively unctuous that landsmen seem to regard the -eating of him with abhorrence that appears to result, in some way, from the -consideration before mentioned i. e. that a man should eat a newly murdered -thing of the sea, and eat it too by its own light. But no doubt the first -man that ever murdered an ox was regarded as a murderer perhaps he was hung -and if he had been put on his trial by oxen, he certainly would have been -and he certainly deserved it if any murderer does. Go to the meatmarket of -a Saturday night and see the crowds of live bipeds staring up at the long rows -of dead quadrupeds. Does not that sight take a tooth out of the cannibal's -jaw? Cannibals? who is not a cannibal? I tell you it will be more tolerable -for the Fejee that salted down a lean missionary in his cellar against a -coming famine it will be more tolerable for that provident Fejee, I say, in -the day of judgment, than for thee, civilized and enlightened gourmand, who -nailest geese to the ground and feastest on their bloated livers in thy -patedefoiegras. But Stubb, he eats the whale by its own light, does he? -and that is adding insult to injury, is it? Look at your knifehandle, -there, my civilized and enlightened gourmand dining off that roast beef, -what is that handle made of? what but the bones of the brother of the very ox -you are eating? And what do you pick your teeth with, after devouring that -fat goose? With a feather of the same fowl. And with what quill did the -Secretary of the Society for the Suppression of Cruelty to Ganders formally -indite his circulars? It is only within the last month or two that that -society passed a resolution to patronize nothing but steel pens. -When in the Southern Fishery, a -captured Sperm Whale, after long and weary toil, is brought alongside late at -night, it is not, as a general thing at least, customary to proceed at once -to the business of cutting him in. For that business is an exceedingly -laborious one is not very soon completed and requires all hands to set -about it. Therefore, the common usage is to take in all sail lash the helm -a'lee and then send every one below to his hammock till daylight, with the -reservation that, until that time, anchorwatches shall be kept that is, -two and two for an hour, each couple, the crew in rotation shall mount the -deck to see that all goes well. But sometimes, especially upon the Line in the -Pacific, this plan will not answer at all because such incalculable hosts -of sharks gather round the moored carcase, that were he left so for six -hours, say, on a stretch, little more than the skeleton would be visible by -morning. In most other parts of the ocean, however, where these fish do not -so largely abound, their wondrous voracity can be at times considerably -diminished, by vigorously stirring them up with sharp whalingspades, a -procedure notwithstanding, which, in some instances, only seems to tickle -them into still greater activity. But it was not thus in the present case -with the Pequod's sharks though, to be sure, any man unaccustomed to such -sights, to have looked over her side that night, would have almost thought -the whole round sea was one huge cheese, and those sharks the maggots in it. -nevertheless, upon stubb setting the anchorwatch after his supper was -concluded and when, accordingly, Queequeg and a forecastle seaman came on -deck, no small excitement was created among the sharks for immediately -suspending the cutting stages over the side, and lowering three lanterns, so -that they cast long gleams of light over the turbid sea, these -two mariners, darting their long whalingspades, kept up an incessant -murdering of the sharks, by striking the keen steel deep into their skulls, -seemingly their only vital part. But in the foamy confusion of their mixed -and struggling hosts, the marksmen could not always hit their mark and this -brought about new revelations of the incredible ferocity of the foe. They -viciously snapped, not only at each other's disembowelments, but like -flexible bows, bent round, and bit their own till those entrails seemed -swallowed over and over again by the same mouth, to be oppositely voided by -the gaping wound. Nor was this all. It was unsafe to meddle with the corpses -and ghosts of these creatures. A sort of generic or Pantheistic vitality -seemed to lurk in their very joints and bones, after what might be called the -individual life had departed. Killed and hoisted on deck for the sake of his -skin, one of these sharks almost took poor Queequeg's hand off, when he -tried to shut down the dead lid of his murderous jaw. Queequeg no care what -god made him shark, said the savage, agonizingly lifting his hand up and -down wedder Fejee god or Nantucket god but de god wat made shark must be -one dam Ingin. -The whalingspade used for cuttingin is made of the very best steel is about -the bigness of a man's spread hand and in general shape, corresponds to -the garden implement after which it is named only its sides are perfectly -flat, and its upper end considerably narrower than the lower. This weapon -is always kept as sharp as possible and when being used is occasionally -honed, just like a razor. In its socket, a stiff pole, from twenty to -thirty feet long, is inserted for a handle. -It was a Saturday night, and such a -Sabbath as followed Ex officio professors of Sabbath breaking are all -whalemen. The ivory Pequod was turned into what seemed a shamble -every sailor a butcher. You would have thought we were offering up ten -thousand red oxen to the sea gods. In the first place, the enormous cutting -tackles, among other ponderous things comprising a cluster of blocks generally -painted green, and which no single man can possibly lift this vast bunch of -grapes was swayed up to the maintop and firmly lashed to the lower masthead, -the strongest point anywhere above a ship's deck. The end of the hawserlike -rope winding through these intricacies, was then conducted to the windlass, -and the huge lower block of the tackles was swung over the whale to this -block the great blubber hook, weighing some one hundred pounds, was attached. -And now suspended in stages over the side, Starbuck and Stubb, the mates, -armed with their long spades, began cutting a hole in the body for the -insertion of the hook just above the nearest of the two sidefins. This done, -a broad, semicircular line is cut round the hole, the hook is inserted, and -the main body of the crew striking up a wild chorus, now commence heaving in -one dense crowd at the windlass. When instantly, the entire ship careens over -on her side every bolt in her starts like the nailheads of an old house in -frosty weather she trembles, quivers, and nods her frighted mastheads to -the sky. More and more she leans over to the whale, while every gasping -heave of the windlass is answered by a helping heave from the billows till -at last, a swift, startling snap is heard with a great swash the ship rolls -upwards and backwards from the whale, and the triumphant tackle rises into -sight dragging after it the disengaged semicircular end of the first strip of -blubber. Now as the blubber envelopes the whale precisely as the rind does an -orange, so is it stripped off from the body precisely as an orange is -sometimes stripped by spiralizing it. For the strain constantly kept up by -the windlass continually keeps the whale rolling over and over in the water, -and as the blubber in one strip uniformly peels off along the line called the -scarf, simultaneously cut by the spades of Starbuck and Stubb, the mates -and just as fast as it is thus peeled off, and indeed by that very act itself, -it is all the time being hoisted higher and higher aloft till its upper end -grazes the maintop the men at the windlass then cease heaving, and for a -moment -or two the prodigious blooddripping mass sways to and fro as if let down from -the sky, and every one present must take good heed to dodge it when it -swings, else it may box his ears and pitch him headlong overboard. One of -the attending harpooneers now advances with a long, keen weapon called a -boardingsword, and watching his chance he dexterously slices out a -considerable hole in the lower part of the swaying mass. Into this hole, the -end of the second alternating great tackle is then hooked so as to retain a -hold upon the blubber, in order to prepare for what follows. Whereupon, this -accomplished swordsman, warning all hands to stand off, once more makes a -scientific dash at the mass, and with a few sidelong, desperate, lunging -slicings, severs it completely in twain so that while the short lower part -is still fast, the long upper strip, called a blanketpiece, swings clear, -and is all ready for lowering. The heavers forward now resume their song, -and while the one tackle is peeling and hoisting a second strip from the -whale, the other is slowly slackened away, and down goes the first strip -through the main hatchway right beneath, into an unfurnished parlor called the -blubberroom. Into this twilight apartment sundry nimble hands keep coiling -away the long blanketpiece as if it were a great live mass of plaited -serpents. And thus the work proceeds the two tackles hoisting and lowering -simultaneously both whale and windlass heaving, the heavers singing, the -blubberroom gentlemen coiling, the mates scarfing, the ship straining, and -all hands swearing occasionally, by way of assuaging the general friction. -I have given no small attention to that -not unvexed subject, the skin of the whale. I have had controversies about it -with experienced whalemen afloat, and learned naturalists ashore. -My original opinion remains unchanged but it is only an opinion. The -question is, what and where is the skin of the whale? Already you know what -his blubber is. That blubber is something of the consistence of firm, -closegrained beef, but tougher, more elastic and compact, and ranges from -eight or ten to twelve and fifteen inches in thickness. Now, however -preposterous it may at first seem to talk of any creature's skin as being of -that sort of consistence and thickness, yet in point of fact these are no -arguments against such a presumption because you cannot raise any other -dense enveloping layer from the whale's body but that same blubber and the -outermost enveloping layer of any animal, if reasonably dense, what can that -be but the skin? True, from the unmarred dead body of the whale, you may -scrape off with your hand an infinitely thin, transparent substance, somewhat -resembling the thinnest shreds of isinglass, only it is almost as flexible -and soft as satin that is, previous to being dried, when it not only -contracts and thickens, but becomes rather hard and brittle. I have several -such dried bits, which I use for marks in my whalebooks. It is -transparent, as I said before and being laid upon the printed page, I have -sometimes pleased myself with fancying it exerted a magnifying influence. At -any rate, it is pleasant to read about whales through their own spectacles, -as you may say. But what I am driving at here is this. That same infinitely -thin, isinglass substance, which, I admit, invests the entire body of the -whale, is not so much to be regarded as the skin of the creature, as the -skin of the skin, so to speak for it were simply ridiculous to say, that -the proper skin of the tremendous whale is thinner and more tender than the -skin of a newborn child. But no more of this. Assuming the blubber to be the -skin of the whale then, when this skin, as in the case of a very large -Sperm Whale, will yield the bulk of one hundred barrels of oil and, when it -is considered that, in quantity, or rather weight, that oil, in its expressed -state, is only three fourths, and not the entire substance of the coat some -idea may hence be had of the enormousness of that animated mass, a mere part -of whose mere -integument yields such a lake of liquid as that. Reckoning ten barrels to the -ton, you have ten tons for the net weight of only three quarters of the stuff -of the whale's skin. In life, the visible surface of the Sperm Whale is not -the least among the many marvels he presents. Almost invariably it is all -over obliquely crossed and recrossed with numberless straight marks in thick -array, something like those in the finest Italian line engravings. But these -marks do not seem to be impressed upon the isinglass substance above -mentioned, but seem to be seen through it, as if they were engraved upon the -body itself. Nor is this all. In some instances, to the quick, observant -eye, those linear marks, as in a veritable engraving, but afford the ground -for far other delineations. These are hieroglyphical that is, if you call -those mysterious cyphers on the walls of pyramids hieroglyphics, then that is -the proper word to use in the present connexion. By my retentive memory of -the hieroglyphics upon one Sperm Whale in particular, I was much struck with -a plate representing the old Indian characters chiselled on the famous -hieroglyphic palisades on the banks of the Upper Mississippi. Like those -mystic rocks, too, the mysticmarked whale remains undecipherable. This -allusion to the Indian rocks reminds me of another thing. Besides all the -other phenomena which the exterior of the Sperm Whale presents, he not -seldom displays the back, and more especially his flanks, effaced in great -part of the regular linear appearance, by reason of numerous rude scratches, -altogether of an irregular, random aspect. I should say that those New -England rocks on the seacoast, which Agassiz imagines to bear the marks of -violent scraping contact with vast floating icebergs I should say, that -those rocks must not a little resemble the Sperm Whale in this particular. It -also seems to me that such scratches in the whale are probably made by hostile -contact with other whales for I have most remarked them in the large, -fullgrown bulls of the species. A word or two more concerning this matter -of the skin or blubber of the whale. It has already been said, that it is -stript from him in long pieces, called blanketpieces. Like most seaterms, -this one is very happy and significant. For the whale is -indeed wrapt up in his blubber as in a real blanket or counterpane or, still -better, an Indian poncho slipt over his head, and skirting his extremity. It -is by reason of this cosy blanketing of his body, that the whale is enabled to -keep himself comfortable in all weathers, in all seas, times, and tides. -What would become of a Greenland whale, say, in those shuddering, icy seas of -the north, if unsupplied with his cosy surtout? True, other fish are found -exceedingly brisk in those Hyperborean waters but these, be it observed, are -your coldblooded, lungless fish, whose very bellies are refrigerators -creatures, that warm themselves under the lee of an iceberg, as a traveller -in winter would bask before an inn fire whereas, like man, the whale has -lungs and warm blood. Freeze his blood, and he dies. How wonderful is it -then except after explanation that this great monster, to whom corporeal -warmth is as indispensable as it is to man how wonderful that he should be -found at home, immersed to his lips for life in those Arctic waters where, -when seamen fall overboard, they are sometimes found, months afterwards, -perpendicularly frozen into the hearts of fields of ice, as a fly is found -glued in amber. But more surprising is it to know, as has been proved by -experiment, that the blood of a Polar whale is warmer than that of a Borneo -negro in summer. It does seem to me, that herein we see the rare virtue of a -strong individual vitality, and the rare virtue of thick walls, and the rare -virtue of interior spaciousness. Oh, man admire and model thyself after the -whale Do thou, too, remain warm among ice. Do thou, too, live in this world -without being of it. Be cool at the equator keep thy blood fluid at the -Pole. Like the great dome of St. Peter's, and like the great whale, retain, -O man in all seasons a temperature of thine own. But how easy and how -hopeless to teach these fine things Of erections, how few are domed like St. -Peter's of creatures, how few vast as the whale -Haul in the chains Let the carcase go -astern The vast tackles have now done their duty. The peeled white body of -the beheaded whale flashes like a marble sepulchre though changed in hue, it -has not perceptibly lost anything in bulk. it is still colossal. slowly it -floats more and more away, the water round it torn and splashed by the -insatiate sharks, and the air above vexed with rapacious flights of screaming -fowls, whose beaks are like so many insulting poniards in the whale. The -vast white headless phantom floats further and further from the ship, and -every rod that it so floats, what seem square roods of sharks and cubic roods -of fowls, augment the murderous din. For hours and hours from the almost -stationary ship that hideous sight is seen. Beneath the unclouded and mild -azure sky, upon the fair face of the pleasant sea, wafted by the joyous -breezes, that great mass of death floats on and on, till lost in infinite -perspectives. There's a most doleful and most mocking funeral The -seavultures all in pious mourning, the airsharks all punctiliously in -black or speckled. In life but few of them would have helped the whale, I -ween, if peradventure he had needed it but upon the banquet of his funeral -they most piously do pounce. Oh, horrible vultureism of earth from which -not the mightiest whale is free. Nor is this the end. Desecrated as the body -is, a vengeful ghost survives and hovers over it to scare. Espied by some -timid manofwar or blundering discoveryvessel from afar, when the distance -obscuring the swarming fowls, nevertheless still shows the white mass -floating in the sun, and the white spray heaving high against it -straightway the whale's unharming corpse, with trembling fingers is set down -in the log shoals, rocks, and breakers hereabouts beware And for -years afterwards, -perhaps, ships shun the place leaping over it as silly sheep leap over a -vacuum, because their leader originally leaped there when a stick was held. -There's your law of precedents there's your utility of traditions there's -the story of your obstinate survival of old beliefs never bottomed on the -earth, and now not even hovering in the air There's orthodoxy Thus, while -in life the great whale's body may have been a real terror to his foes, in -his death his ghost becomes a powerless panic to a world. Are you a believer -in ghosts, my friend? There are other ghosts than the CockLane one, and far -deeper men than Doctor Johnson who believe in them. -In this same New Bedford there stands a -Whaleman's Chapel, and few are the moody fishermen, shortly bound for the -Indian Ocean or Pacific, who fail to make a Sunday visit to the spot. I am -sure that I did not. Returning from my first morning stroll, I again sallied -out upon this special errand. The sky had changed from clear, -sunny cold, to driving sleet and mist. Wrapping myself in my shaggy jacket -of the cloth called bearskin, I fought my way against the stubborn storm. -Entering, I found a small scattered congregation of sailors, and sailors' -wives and widows. A muffled silence reigned, only broken at times by the -shrieks of the storm. Each silent worshipper seemed purposely sitting apart -from the other, as if each silent grief were insular and incommunicable. The -chaplain had not yet arrived and there these silent islands of men and women -sat steadfastly eyeing several marble tablets, with black borders, masoned -into the wall on either side the pulpit. Three of them ran something like the -following, but I do not pretend to quote Sacred To the Memory of John -Talbot, Who, at the age of eighteen, was lost overboard, Near the Isle of -Desolation, off Patagonia, November st, -. This Tablet Is erected to his -Memory By his Sister. Sacred To the Memory of Robert Long, Willis Ellery, -Nathan Coleman, Walter Canny, Seth Macy, and Samuel Gleig, Forming one of the -boats' crews of the Ship Eliza, Who were towed out of sight by a Whale, On -the Offshore Ground in the Pacific, December st, -. This Marble Is -here placed by their surviving Shipmates. -Sacred To the Memory of The late Captain Ezekiel Hardy, Who in the bows of -his boat was killed by a Sperm Whale on the coast of Japan, August d, -This Tablet Is erected to his Memory by His Widow. Shaking off the sleet -from my iceglazed hat and jacket, I seated myself near the door, and -turning sideways was surprised to see Queequeg near me. Affected by the -solemnity of the scene, there was a wondering gaze of incredulous curiosity -in his countenance. This savage was the only person present who seemed to -notice my entrance because he was the only one who could not read, and, -therefore, was not reading those frigid inscriptions on the wall. Whether any -of the relatives of the seamen whose names appeared there were now among the -congregation, I knew not but so many are the unrecorded accidents in the -fishery, and so plainly did several women present wear the countenance if not -the trappings of some unceasing grief, that I feel sure that here before me -were assembled those, in whose unhealing hearts the sight of those bleak -tablets sympathetically caused the old wounds to bleed afresh. Oh ye whose -dead lie buried beneath the green grass who standing among flowers can say -here, here lies my beloved ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms -like these. What bitter blanks in those blackbordered marbles which cover no -ashes What despair in those immovable inscriptions What deadly voids and -unbidden infidelities in the lines that seem to gnaw upon all Faith, and -refuse resurrections to the beings who have placelessly perished without a -grave. As well might those tablets stand in the cave of Elephanta as here. -In what census of living creatures, the dead of mankind are included why it -is that a universal proverb says of them, that -they tell no tales, though containing more secrets than the Goodwin Sands -how it is that to his name who yesterday departed for the other world, we -prefix so significant and infidel a word, and yet do not thus entitle him, if -he but embarks for the remotest Indies of this living earth why the Life -Insurance Companies pay deathforfeitures upon immortals in what eternal, -unstirring paralysis, and deadly, hopeless trance, yet lies antique Adam who -died sixty round centuries ago how it is that we still refuse to be -comforted for those who we nevertheless maintain are dwelling in unspeakable -bliss why all the living so strive to hush all the dead wherefore but the -rumor of a knocking in a tomb will terrify a whole city. All these things -are not without their meanings. But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the -tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope. It -needs scarcely to be told, with what feelings, on the eve of a Nantucket -voyage, I regarded those marble tablets, and by the murky light of that -darkened, doleful day read the fate of the whalemen who had gone before me, -Yes, Ishmael, the same fate may be thine. But somehow I grew merry again. -Delightful inducements to embark, fine chance for promotion, it seems aye, -a stove boat will make me an immortal by brevet. Yes, there is death in this -business of whaling a speechlessly quick chaotic bundling of a man into -Eternity. But what then? Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of -Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my -true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much -like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick -water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better -being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me. And -therefore three cheers for Nantucket and come a stove boat and stove body -when they will, for stave my soul, Jove himself cannot. -It should not have been omitted that -previous to completely stripping the body of the leviathan, he was beheaded. -Now, the beheading of the Sperm Whale is a scientific anatomical feat, upon -which experienced whale surgeons very much pride themselves and not without -reason. Consider that the whale has nothing that can properly be called a -neck on the contrary, where his head and body seem to join, there, in that -very place, is the thickest part of him. Remember, also, that the surgeon must -operate from above, some eight or ten feet intervening between him and his -subject, and that subject almost hidden in a discolored, rolling, and -oftentimes tumultuous and bursting sea. Bear in mind, too, that under these -untoward circumstances he has to cut many feet deep in the flesh and in that -subterraneous manner, without so much as getting one single peep into the -evercontracting gash thus made, he must skilfully steer clear of all -adjacent, interdicted parts, and exactly divide the spine at a critical -point hard by its insertion into the skull. Do you not marvel, -then, at Stubb's boast, that he demanded but ten minutes to behead a sperm -whale? When first severed, the head is dropped astern and held there by a -cable till the body is stripped. That done, if it belong to a small whale it -is hoisted on deck to be deliberately disposed of. But, with a full grown -leviathan this is impossible for the sperm whale's head embraces nearly one -third of his entire bulk, and completely to suspend such a burden as that, -even by the immense tackles of a whaler, this were as vain a thing as to -attempt weighing a Dutch barn in jewellers' scales The Pequod's whale being -decapitated and the body stripped, the head was hoisted against the ship's -side about half way out of the sea, so that it might yet in great part be -buoyed up by its native element. And there with the strained craft steeply -leaning over to it, by reason of the enormous downward drag from the lower -masthead, and every yardarm on that side projecting like a crane over the -waves there, that blooddripping head hung to the Pequod's waist like the -giant Holofernes's from the girdle of Judith. When this last task was -accomplished it was noon, and the seamen went below to their dinner. Silence -reigned over the before tumultuous but now deserted deck. An intense copper -calm, like a universal yellow lotus, was more and more unfolding its -noiseless measureless leaves upon the sea. A short space elapsed, and up into -this noiselessness came Ahab alone from his cabin. Taking a few turns on the -quarterdeck, he paused to gaze over the side, then slowly getting into the -mainchains he took Stubb's long spade still remaining there after the -whale's decapitation and striking it into the lower part of the -halfsuspended mass, placed its other end crutchwise under one arm, and so -stood leaning over with eyes attentively fixed on this head. It was a black -and hooded head and hanging there in the midst of so intense a calm, it -seemed the Sphynx's in the desert. Speak, thou vast and venerable head, -muttered Ahab, which, though ungarnished with a beard, yet here and there -lookest hoary with mosses speak, mighty head, and tell us the secret thing -that is in thee. Of all divers, thou hast dived the deepest. -that head upon which the upper sun now gleams, has moved amid this world's -foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust, and untold hopes and -anchors rot where in her murderous hold this frigate earth is ballasted with -bones of millions of the drowned there, in that awful waterland, there was -thy most familiar home. Thou hast been where bell or diver never went hast -slept by many a sailor's side, where sleepless mothers would give their lives -to lay them down. Thou saw'st the locked lovers when leaping from their -flaming ship heart to heart they sank beneath the exulting wave true to -each other, when heaven seemed false to them. Thou saw'st the murdered mate -when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck for hours he fell into the -deeper midnight of the insatiate maw and his murderers still sailed on -unharmed while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would have -borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms. O head thou hast -seen enough to split the planets and make an infidel of Abraham, and not one -syllable is thine Sail ho cried a triumphant voice from the -mainmasthead. Aye? Well, now, that's cheering, cried Ahab, suddenly -erecting himself, while whole thunderclouds swept aside from his brow. -That lively cry upon this deadly calm might almost convert a better man. -Where away? Three points on the starboard bow, sir, and bringing down her -breeze to us Better and better, man. Would now St. Paul would come along -that way, and to my breezelessness bring his breeze O Nature, and O soul of -man how far beyond all utterance are your linked analogies not the -smallest atom stirs or lives on matter, but has its cunning duplicate in -mind. -Hand in hand, ship and breeze -blew on but the breeze came faster than the ship, and soon the Pequod began -to rock. By and by, through the glass the stranger's boats and manned -mastheads proved her a whaleship. but as she was so far to windward, and -shooting by, apparently making a passage to some other ground, the Pequod -could not hope to reach her. So the signal was set to see what response would -be made. Here be it said, that like the vessels of military marines, the -ships of the American Whale Fleet have each a private signal all which -signals being collected in a book with the names of the respective vessels -attached, every captain is provided with it. Thereby, the whale commanders -are enabled to recognise each other upon the ocean, even at considerable -distances, and with no small facility. The Pequod's signal was at last -responded to by the stranger's setting her own which proved the ship to be -the Jeroboam of Nantucket. Squaring her yards, she bore down, ranged abeam -under the Pequod's lee, and lowered a boat it soon drew nigh but, as the -sideladder was being rigged by Starbuck's order to accommodate the visiting -captain, the stranger in question waved his hand from his boat's stern in -token of that proceeding being entirely unnecessary. It turned out that the -Jeroboam had a malignant epidemic on board, and that Mayhew, her captain, -was fearful of infecting the Pequod's company. For, though himself and boat's -crew remained untainted, and though his ship was half a rifleshot off, and -an incorruptible sea and air rolling and flowing between yet conscientiously -adhering to the timid quarantine of the land, he peremptorily refused to come -into direct contact with the Pequod. But this did by no means prevent all -communication. Preserving an interval of some few yards between itself and -the -ship, the Jeroboam's boat by the occasional use of its oars contrived to keep -parallel to the Pequod, as she heavily forged through the sea for by this -time it blew very fresh, with her maintopsail aback though, indeed, at -times by the sudden onset of a large rolling wave, the boat would be pushed -some way ahead but would be soon skilfully brought to her proper bearings -again. Subject to this, and other the like interruptions now and then, a -conversation was sustained between the two parties but at intervals not -without still another interruption of a very different sort. Pulling an oar -in the Jeroboam's boat, was a man of a singular appearance, even in that wild -whaling life where individual notabilities make up all totalities. He was a -small, short, youngish man, sprinkled all over his face with freckles, and -wearing redundant yellow hair. A longskirted, cabalisticallycut coat of a -faded walnut tinge enveloped him the overlapping sleeves of which were -rolled up on his wrists. A deep, settled, fanatic delirium was in his eyes. -So soon as this figure had been first descried, Stubb had exclaimed That's -he that's he the longtogged scaramouch the TownHo's company told us of -Stubb here alluded to a strange story told of the Jeroboam, and a certain -man among her crew, some time previous when the Pequod spoke the TownHo. -According to this account and what was subsequently learned, it seemed that -the scaramouch in question had gained a wonderful ascendency over almost -everybody in the Jeroboam. His story was this He had been originally -nurtured among the crazy society of Neskyeuna Shakers, where he had been a -great prophet in their cracked, secret meetings having several times -descended from heaven by the way of a trapdoor, announcing the speedy -opening of the seventh vial, which he carried in his vestpocket but, which, -instead of containing gunpowder, was supposed to be charged with laudanum. A -strange, apostolic whim having seized him, he had left Neskyeuna for -Nantucket, where, with that cunning peculiar to craziness, he assumed a -steady, common sense exterior and offered himself as a greenhand candidate -for the Jeroboam's whaling voyage. They engaged him -but straightway upon the ship's getting out of sight of land, his insanity -broke out in a freshet. He announced himself as the archangel Gabriel, and -commanded the captain to jump overboard. He published his manifesto, whereby -he set himself forth as the deliverer of the isles of the sea and -vicargeneral of all Oceanica. The unflinching earnestness with which he -declared these things the dark, daring play of his sleepless, excited -imagination, and all the preternatural terrors of real delirium, united to -invest this Gabriel in the minds of the majority of the ignorant crew, with -an atmosphere of sacredness. Moreover, they were afraid of him. As such a -man, however, was not of much practical use in the ship, especially as he -refused to work except when he pleased, the incredulous captain would fain -have been rid of him but apprised that that individual's intention was to -land him in the first convenient port, the archangel forthwith opened all his -seals and vials devoting the ship and all hands to unconditional perdition, -in case this intention was carried out. So strongly did he work upon his -disciples among the crew, that at last in a body they went to the captain and -told him if Gabriel was sent from the ship, not a man of them would remain. -He was therefore forced to relinquish his plan. Nor would they permit Gabriel -to be any way maltreated, say or do what he would so that it came to pass -that Gabriel had the complete freedom of the ship. The consequence of all -this was, that the archangel cared little or nothing for the captain and -mates and since the epidemic had broken out, he carried a higher hand than -ever declaring that the plague, as he called it, was at his sole command -nor should it be stayed but according to his good pleasure. The sailors, -mostly poor devils, cringed, and some of them fawned before him in -obedience to his instructions, sometimes rendering him personal homage, as to -a god. Such things may seem incredible but, however wondrous, they are -true. Nor is the history of fanatics half so striking in respect to the -measureless selfdeception of the fanatic himself, as his measureless power -of deceiving and bedevilling so many others. But it is time to return to the -Pequod. I fear not thy epidemic, man, said Ahab from the bulwarks -to Captain Mayhew, who stood in the boat's stern come on board. But now -Gabriel started to his feet. Think, think of the fevers, yellow and bilious -Beware of the horrible plague Gabriel, Gabriel cried Captain Mayhew -thou must either But that instant a headlong wave shot the boat far -ahead, and its seethings drowned all speech. Hast thou seen the White Whale? -demanded Ahab, when the boat drifted back. Think, think of thy whaleboat, -stoven and sunk Beware of the horrible tail I tell thee again, Gabriel, -that But again the boat tore ahead as if dragged by fiends. Nothing was -said for some moments, while a succession of riotous waves rolled by, which -by one of those occasional caprices of the seas were tumbling, not heaving it. -Meantime, the hoisted sperm whale's head jogged about very violently, and -Gabriel was seen eyeing it with rather more apprehensiveness than his -archangel nature seemed to warrant. When this interlude was over, Captain -Mayhew began a dark story concerning Moby Dick not, however, without -frequent interruptions from Gabriel, whenever his name was mentioned, and -the crazy sea that seemed leagued with him. It seemed that the Jeroboam had -not long left home, when upon speaking a whaleship, her people were -reliably apprised of the existence of Moby Dick, and the havoc he had made. -Greedily sucking in this intelligence, Gabriel solemnly warned the captain -against attacking the white whale, in case the monster should be seen in his -gibbering insanity, pronouncing the White Whale to be no less a being than the -Shaker God incarnated the Shakers receiving the Bible. But when, some year -or two afterwards, Moby Dick was fairly sighted from the mastheads, Macey, -the chief mate, burned with ardor to encounter him and the captain himself -being not unwilling to let him have the opportunity, despite all the -archangel's denunciations and forewarnings, Macey succeeded in persuading -five men to man his boat. With them he pushed off and, after -much weary pulling, and many perilous, unsuccessful onsets, he at last -succeeded in getting one iron fast. Meantime, Gabriel, ascending to the -mainroyal masthead, was tossing one arm in frantic gestures, and hurling -forth prophecies of speedy doom to the sacrilegious assailants of his -divinity. Now, while Macey, the mate, was standing up in his boat's bow, and -with all the reckless energy of his tribe was venting his wild exclamations -upon the whale, and essaying to get a fair chance for his poised lance, lo -a broad white shadow rose from the sea by its quick, fanning motion, -temporarily taking the breath out of the bodies of the oarsmen. Next instant, -the luckless mate, so full of furious life, was smitten bodily into the air, -and making a long arc in his descent, fell into the sea at the distance of -about fifty yards. Not a chip of the boat was harmed, nor a hair of any -oarsman's head but the mate for ever sank. It is well to parenthesize here, -that of the fatal accidents in the SpermWhale Fishery, this kind is perhaps -almost as frequent as any. Sometimes, nothing is injured but the man who is -thus annihilated oftener the boat's bow is knocked off, or the -thighboard, in which the headsman stands, is torn from its place and -accompanies the body. But strangest of all is the circumstance, that in more -instances than one, when the body has been recovered, not a single mark of -violence is discernible the man being stark dead. The whole calamity, with -the falling form of Macey, was plainly descried from the ship. Raising a -piercing shriek The vial the vial Gabriel called off the -terrorstricken crew from the further hunting of the whale. This terrible -event clothed the archangel with added influence because his credulous -disciples believed that he had specifically foreannounced it, instead of -only making a general prophecy, which any one might have done, and so have -chanced to hit one of many marks in the wide margin allowed. He became a -nameless terror to the ship. Mayhew having concluded his narration, Ahab put -such questions to him, that the stranger captain could not forbear inquiring -whether he intended to hunt the White Whale, if opportunity should offer. To -which Ahab answered Aye. Straightway, then, Gabriel once more started to -his feet, glaring -upon the old man, and vehemently exclaimed, with downward pointed finger -Think, think of the blasphemer dead, and down there beware of the -blasphemer's end Ahab stolidly turned aside then said to Mayhew, -Captain, I have just bethought me of my letterbag there is a letter for -one of thy officers, if I mistake not. Starbuck, look over the bag. Every -whaleship takes out a goodly number of letters for various ships, whose -delivery to the persons to whom they may be addressed, depends upon the mere -chance of encountering them in the four oceans. Thus, most letters never -reach their mark and many are only received after attaining an age of two -or three years or more. Soon Starbuck returned with a letter in his hand. It -was sorely tumbled, damp, and covered with a dull, spotted, green mould, in -consequence of being kept in a dark locker of the cabin. Of such a letter, -Death himself might well have been the postboy. Can'st not read it? cried -ahab. give it me, man. aye, aye it's but a dim scrawl what's this? As -he was studying it out, Starbuck took a long cuttingspade pole, and with his -knife slightly split the end, to insert the letter there, and in that way, -hand it to the boat, without its coming any closer to the ship. Meantime, Ahab -holding the letter, muttered, Mr. Haryes, Mr. Harrya woman's pinny hand, -the man's wife, I'll wager Aye Mr. Harry Macey, Ship Jeroboam why -it's Macey, and he's dead Poor fellow poor fellow and from his wife, -sighed Mayhew but let me have it. Nay, keep it thyself, cried Gabriel to -Ahab thou art soon going that way. Curses throttle thee yelled Ahab. -Captain Mayhew, stand by now to receive it and taking the fatal missive -from Starbuck's hands, he caught it in the slit of the pole, and reached it -over towards the boat. But as he did so, the oarsmen expectantly desisted -from rowing the boat drifted a little towards the ship's stern so that, as -if by magic, the letter suddenly ranged along with Gabriel's eager hand. He -clutched it in an instant, seized the boatknife, and impaling the letter on -it, sent it thus loaded back into the ship. It fell at Ahab's feet. Then -Gabriel -shrieked out to his comrades to give way with their oars, and in that manner -the mutinous boat rapidly shot away from the Pequod. As, after this -interlude, the seamen resumed their work upon the jacket of the whale, many -strange things were hinted in reference to this wild affair. -A TALK OVER HIM It must be borne in mind that all this time we have a Sperm -Whale's prodigious head hanging to the Pequod's side. But we must let it -continue hanging there a while till we can get a chance to attend to it. For -the present other matters press, and the best we can do now for the head, is -to pray heaven the tackles may hold. Now, during the past night and forenoon, -the Pequod had gradually drifted into a sea, which, by its occasional -patches of -yellow brit, gave unusual tokens of the vicinity of Right Whales, a species -of the Leviathan that but few supposed to be at this particular time lurking -anywhere near. And though all hands commonly disdained the capture of those -inferior creatures and though the Pequod was not commissioned to cruise for -them at all, and though she had passed numbers of them near the Crozetts -without lowering a boat yet now that a Sperm Whale had been brought -alongside and beheaded, to the surprise of all, the announcement was made -that a Right Whale should be captured that day, if opportunity offered. Nor -was this long wanting. Tall spouts were seen to leeward and two boats, -Stubb's and Flask's, were detached in pursuit. Pulling further and further -away, they at last became almost invisible to the men at the masthead. But -suddenly in the distance, they saw a great heap of tumultuous white water, -and soon after news came from aloft that one or both the boats must be fast. -An interval passed and the boats were in plain sight, in the act of being -dragged right towards the ship by the towing whale. So close did the monster -come to the hull, that at first it seemed as if he meant it malice but -suddenly going down in a maelstrom, within three rods of the planks, he -wholly disappeared from view, as if diving under the keel. Cut, cut was -the cry from the ship to the boats, which, for one instant, seemed on the -point of being brought with a deadly dash against the vessel's side. But -having plenty of line yet in the tubs, and the whale not sounding very -rapidly, they paid out abundance of rope, and at the same time pulled with -all their might so as to get ahead of the ship. For a few minutes the -struggle was intensely critical for while they still slacked out the -tightened line in one direction, and still plied their oars in another, the -contending strain threatened to take them under. But it was only a few feet -advance they sought to gain. And they stuck to it till they did gain it -when instantly, a swift tremor was felt running like lightning along the keel, -as the strained line, scraping beneath the ship, suddenly rose to view under -her bows, snapping and quivering and so flinging off its drippings, that -the drops fell like bits of broken glass on the water, while the whale -beyond also rose to sight, and once more the boats were free -to fly. But the fagged whale abated his speed, and blindly altering his -course, went round the stern of the ship towing the two boats after him, so -that they performed a complete circuit. Meantime, they hauled more and more -upon their lines, till close flanking him on both sides, Stubb answered -Flask with lance for lance and thus round and round the Pequod the battle -went, while the multitudes of sharks that had before swum round the Sperm -Whale's body, rushed to the fresh blood that was spilled, thirstily drinking -at every new gash, as the eager Israelites did at the new bursting fountains -that poured from the smitten rock. At last his spout grew thick, and with a -frightful roll and vomit, he turned upon his back a corpse. While the two -headsmen were engaged in making fast cords to his flukes, and in other ways -getting the mass in readiness for towing, some conversation ensued between -them. I wonder what the old man wants with this lump of foul lard, said -Stubb, not without some disgust at the thought of having to do with so -ignoble a leviathan. Wants with it? said Flask, coiling some spare line in -the boat's bow, did you never hear that the ship which but once has a Sperm -Whale's head hoisted on her starboard side, and at the same time a Right -Whale's on the larboard did you never hear, Stubb, that that ship can never -afterwards capsize? Why not? I don't know, but I heard that gamboge -ghost of a Fedallah saying so, and he seems to know all about ships' charms. -But I sometimes think he'll charm the ship to no good at last. I don't half -like that chap, Stubb. Did you ever notice how that tusk of his is a sort of -carved into a snake's head, Stubb? Sink him I never look at him at all -but if ever I get a chance of a dark night, and he standing hard by the -bulwarks, and no one by look down there, Flask pointing into the sea with -a peculiar motion of both hands Aye, will I Flask, I take that Fedallah to -be the devil in disguise. Do you believe that cock and bull story about his -having been stowed away on board ship? He's the devil, I say. The reason why -you don't see his tail, is because he tucks it up out of sight he carries -it -coiled away in his pocket, I guess. Blast him now that I think of it, he's -always wanting oakum to stuff into the toes of his boots. He sleeps in his -boots, don't he? He hasn't got any hammock but I've seen him lay of nights -in a coil of rigging. No doubt, and it's because of his cursed tail he -coils it down, do ye see, in the eye of the rigging. What's the old man -have so much to do with him for? Striking up a swap or a bargain, I -suppose. Bargain? about what? Why, do ye see, the old man is hard bent -after that White Whale, and the devil there is trying to come round him, and -get him to swap away his silver watch, or his soul, or something of that -sort, and then he'll surrender Moby Dick. Pooh Stubb, you are -skylarking how can Fedallah do that? I don't know, Flask, but the devil -is a curious chap, and a wicked one, I tell ye. Why, they say as how he -went a sauntering into the old flagship once, switching his tail about -devilish easy and gentlemanlike, and inquiring if the old governor was at -home. Well, he was at home, and asked the devil what he wanted. The devil, -switching his hoofs, up and says, "I want John." "What for?" says the old -governor, "What business is that of yours," says the devil, getting mad, "I -want to use him." "Take him," says the governor and by the Lord, Flask, if -the devil didn't give John the Asiatic cholera before he got through with -him, I'll eat this whale in one mouthful. But look sharp aint you all ready -there? Well, then, pull ahead, and let's get the whale alongside. I think -I remember some such story as you were telling, said Flask, when at last the -two boats were slowly advancing with their burden towards the ship, but I -can't remember where. Three Spaniards? Adventures of those three -bloodyminded soldadoes? Did ye read it there, Flask? I guess ye did? No -never saw such a book heard of it, though. But now, tell me, Stubb, do you -suppose that that devil you was speaking of just now, was the same you say is -now on board the Pequod? -Am I the same man that helped kill this whale? Doesn't the devil live for -ever who ever heard that the devil was dead? Did you ever see any parson a -wearing mourning for the devil? And if the devil has a latchkey to get into -the admiral's cabin, don't you suppose he can crawl into a porthole? Tell me -that, Mr. Flask? How old do you suppose Fedallah is, Stubb? Do you see -that mainmast there? pointing to the ship well, that's the figure one -now take all the hoops in the Pequod's hold, and string 'em along in a row -with that mast, for oughts, do you see well, that wouldn't begin to be -Fedallah's age. Nor all the coopers in creation couldn't show hoops enough to -make oughts enough. but see here, stubb, i thought you a little boasted -just now, that you meant to give Fedallah a seatoss, if you got a good -chance. Now, if he's so old as all those hoops of yours come to, and if he -is going to live for ever, what good will it do to pitch him overboard tell -me that? Give him a good ducking, anyhow. But he'd crawl back. Duck -him again and keep ducking him. Suppose he should take it into his head to -duck you, though yes, and drown you what then? I should like to see him -try it I'd give him such a pair of black eyes that he wouldn't dare to show -his face in the admiral's cabin again for a long while, let alone down in the -orlop there, where he lives, and hereabouts on the upper decks where he -sneaks so much. Damn the devil, Flask do you suppose I'm afraid of the -devil? Who's afraid of him, except the old governor who daresn't catch him -and put him in doubledarbies, as he deserves, but lets him go about -kidnapping people aye, and signed a bond with him, that all the people the -devil kidnapped, he'd roast for him? There's a governor Do you suppose -Fedallah wants to kidnap Captain Ahab? Do I suppose it? You'll know it -before long, Flask. But I am going now to keep a sharp lookout on him and -if I see anything very suspicious going on, I'll just take him by the nape -of his neck, and say Look here, Beelzebub, you don't do -it and if he makes any fuss, by the Lord I'll make a grab into his pocket -for his tail, take it to the capstan, and give him such a wrenching and -heaving, that his tail will come short off at the stump do you see and -then, I rather guess when he finds himself docked in that queer fashion, -he'll sneak off without the poor satisfaction of feeling his tail between his -legs. And what will you do with the tail, Stubb? Do with it? Sell it for -an ox whip when we get home what else? Now, do you mean what you say, -and have been saying all along, stubb? Mean or not mean, here we are at -the ship. The boats were here hailed, to tow the whale on the larboard -side, where fluke chains and other necessaries were already prepared for -securing him. Didn't I tell you so? said Flask yes, you'll soon see this -right whale's head hoisted up opposite that parmacetti's. In good time, -Flask's saying proved true. As before, the Pequod steeply leaned over towards -the sperm whale's head, now, by the counterpoise of both heads, she regained -her even keel though sorely strained, you may well believe. So, when on one -side you hoist in Locke's head, you go over that way but now, on the other -side, hoist in Kant's and you come back again but in very poor plight. -Thus, some minds for ever keep trimming boat. Oh, ye foolish throw all -these thunderheads overboard, and then you will float light and right. In -disposing of the body of a right whale, when brought alongside the ship, the -same preliminary proceedings commonly take place as in the case of a sperm -whale only, in the latter instance, the head is cut off whole, but in the -former the lips and tongue are separately removed and hoisted on deck, with -all the well known black bone attached to what is called the crownpiece. -But nothing like this, in the present case, had been done. The carcases of -both whales had dropped astern and the headladen ship not a little resembled -a mule carrying a pair of overburdening panniers. Meantime, Fedallah was -calmly eyeing the right whale's head, and ever and anon glancing from the deep -wrinkles there to the -lines in his own hand. And Ahab chanced so to stand, that the Parsee -occupied his shadow while, if the Parsee's shadow was there at all it seemed -only to blend with, and lengthen Ahab's. As the crew toiled on, Laplandish -speculations were bandied among them, concerning all these passing things. -Here, now, are -two great whales, laying their heads together let us join them, and lay -together our own. Of the grand order of folio leviathans, the Sperm Whale and -the Right Whale are by far the most noteworthy. They are the only whales -regularly hunted by man. To the Nantucketer, they present the two extremes of -all the known varieties of the whale. As the external difference between them -is mainly observable in their heads and as a head of each is this moment -hanging from the Pequod's side and as we may freely go from one to the -other, by merely stepping across the deck where, I should like to know, -will you obtain a better chance to study practical cetology than here? In the -first place, you are struck by the general contrast between these heads. -Both are massive enough in all conscience but there is a certain mathematical -symmetry in the Sperm Whale's which the Right Whale's sadly lacks. There is -more character in the Sperm Whale's head. As you behold it, you -involuntarily yield the immense superiority to him, in point of pervading -dignity. In the present instance, too, this dignity is heightened by the -pepper and salt color of his head at the summit, giving token of advanced age -and large experience. In short, he is what the fishermen technically call a -greyheaded whale. Let us now note what is least dissimilar in these heads -namely, the two most important organs, the eye and the ear. -Far back on the side of the head, and low down, near the angle of either -whale's jaw, if you narrowly search, you will at last see a lashless eye, -which you would fancy to be a young colt's eye so out of all proportion is it -to the magnitude of the head. Now, from this peculiar sideway position of the -whale's eyes, it is plain that he can never see an object which is exactly -ahead, no more than he can one exactly astern. in a word, the position of -the whale's eyes corresponds to that of a man's ears and you may fancy, for -yourself, how it would fare with you, did you sideways survey objects through -your ears. You would find that you could only command some thirty degrees of -vision in advance of the straight sideline of sight and about thirty more -behind it. If your bitterest foe were walking straight towards you, with -dagger uplifted in broad day, you would not be able to see him, any more -than if he were stealing upon you from behind. In a word, you would have two -backs, so to speak but, at the same time, also, two fronts side fronts -for what is it that makes the front of a man what, indeed, but his eyes? -Moreover, while in most other animals that I can now think of, the eyes are so -planted as imperceptibly to blend their visual power, so as to produce one -picture and not two to the brain the peculiar position of the whale's eyes, -effectually divided as they are by many cubic feet of solid head, which -towers between them like a great mountain separating two lakes in valleys -this, of course, must wholly separate the impressions which each independent -organ imparts. The whale, therefore, must see one distinct picture on this -side, and another distinct picture on that side while all between must be -profound darkness and nothingness to him. Man may, in effect, be said to look -out on the world from a sentrybox with two joined sashes for his window. -But with the whale, these two sashes are separately inserted, making two -distinct windows, but sadly impairing the view. This peculiarity of the -whale's eyes is a thing always to be borne in mind in the fishery and to be -remembered by the reader in some subsequent scenes. A curious and most -puzzling question might be started concerning -this visual matter as touching the Leviathan. But I must be content with a -hint. so long as a man's eyes are open in the light, the act of seeing is -involuntary that is, he cannot then help mechanically seeing whatever -objects are before him. Nevertheless, any one's experience will teach him, -that though he can take in an undiscriminating sweep of things at one glance, -it is quite impossible for him, attentively, and completely, to examine any -two things however large or however small at one and the same instant of -time never mind if they lie side by side and touch each other. But if you -now come to separate these two objects, and surround each by a circle of -profound darkness then, in order to see one of them, in such a manner as to -bring your mind to bear on it, the other will be utterly excluded from your -contemporary consciousness. How is it, then, with the whale? True, both his -eyes, in themselves, must simultaneously act but is his brain so much more -comprehensive, combining, and subtle than man's, that he can at the same -moment of time attentively examine two distinct prospects, one on one side of -him, and the other in an exactly opposite direction? If he can, then is it as -marvellous a thing in him, as if a man were able simultaneously to go through -the demonstrations of two distinct problems in Euclid. Nor, strictly -investigated, is there any incongruity in this comparison. It may be but an -idle whim, but it has always seemed to me, that the extraordinary -vacillations of movement displayed by some whales when beset by three or four -boats the timidity and liability to queer frights, so common to such whales -I think that all this indirectly proceeds from the helpless perplexity of -volition, in which their divided and diametrically opposite powers of vision -must involve them. But the ear of the whale is full as curious as the eye. If -you are an entire stranger to their race, you might hunt over these two -heads for hours, and never discover that organ. The ear has no external leaf -whatever and into the hole itself you can hardly insert a quill, so -wondrously minute is it. It is lodged a little behind the eye. With respect -to their ears, this important difference is to be observed between the sperm -whale and the -right. While the ear of the former has an external opening, that of the -latter is entirely and evenly covered over with a membrane, so as to be quite -imperceptible from without. Is it not curious, that so vast a being as the -whale should see the world through so small an eye, and hear the thunder -through an ear which is smaller than a hare's? But if his eyes were broad as -the lens of Herschel's great telescope and his ears capacious as the porches -of cathedrals would that make him any longer of sight, or sharper of -hearing? Not at all. Why then do you try to enlarge your mind? Subtilize -it. Let us now with whatever levers and steamengines we have at hand, cant -over the sperm whale's head, so that it may lie bottom up then, ascending -by a ladder to the summit, have a peep down the mouth and were it not that -the body is now completely separated from it, with a lantern we might descend -into the great Kentucky Mammoth Cave of his stomach. But let us hold on here -by this tooth, and look about us where we are. What a really beautiful and -chastelooking mouth from floor to ceiling, lined, or rather papered with a -glistening white membrane, glossy as bridal satins. But come out now, and -look at this portentous lower jaw, which seems like the long narrow lid of an -immense snuffbox, with a hinge at one end, instead of one side. If you pry -it up, so as to get it overhead, and expose its rows of teeth, it seems a -terrific portcullis and such, alas it proves to many a poor wight in the -fishery, upon whom these spikes fall with impaling force. But far more -terrible is it to behold, when fathoms down in the sea, you see some sulky -whale, floating there suspended, with his prodigious jaw, some fifteen feet -long, hanging straight down at rightangles with his body, for all the world -like a ship's jibboom. This whale is not dead he is only dispirited out -of sorts, perhaps hypochondriac and so supine, that the hinges of his jaw -have relaxed, leaving him there in that ungainly sort of plight, a reproach -to all his tribe, who must, no doubt, imprecate lockjaws upon him. In most -cases this lower jaw being easily unhinged by a practised artist is -disengaged and hoisted on deck for the purpose of extracting the ivory teeth, -and furnishing a supply of -that hard white whalebone with which the fishermen fashion all sorts of -curious articles, including canes, umbrellastocks, and handles to -ridingwhips. With a long, weary hoist the jaw is dragged on board, as if it -were an anchor and when the proper time comes some few days after the other -work Queequeg, Daggoo, and Tashtego, being all accomplished dentists, are set -to drawing teeth. With a keen cuttingspade, Queequeg lances the gums then -the jaw is lashed down to ringbolts, and a tackle being rigged from aloft, -they drag out these teeth, as Michigan oxen drag stumps of old oaks out of -wild woodlands. There are generally fortytwo teeth in all in old whales, -much worn down, but undecayed nor filled after our artificial fashion. The -jaw is afterwards sawn into slabs, and piled away like joists for building -houses. -Crossing the -deck, let us now have a good long look at the Right Whale's head. As in -general shape the noble Sperm Whale's head may be compared to a Roman -warchariot especially in front, where it is so broadly rounded so, at a -broad view, the Right Whale's head bears a rather inelegant resemblance to a -gigantic galliottoed shoe. Two hundred years ago an old Dutch voyager -likened its shape to that of a shoemaker's last. And in this same last or -shoe, that old woman of the nursery tale, with the swarming brood, might -very comfortably be lodged, she and all her progeny. But as you come nearer -to this great head it begins to assume different aspects, according to your -point of view. If you stand on its summit and look at these two fshaped -spoutholes, you would take the whole head for an enormous bassviol, and -these -spiracles, the apertures in its soundingboard. Then, again, if you fix your -eye upon this strange, crested, comblike incrustation on the top of the mass -this green, barnacled thing, which the Greenlanders call the crown, and -the Southern fishers the bonnet of the Right Whale fixing your eyes solely -on this, you would take the head for the trunk of some huge oak, with a -bird's nest in its crotch. At any rate, when you watch those live crabs that -nestle here on this bonnet, such an idea will be almost sure to occur to you -unless, indeed, your fancy has been fixed by the technical term crown also -bestowed upon it in which case you will take great interest in thinking how -this mighty monster is actually a diademed king of the sea, whose green -crown has been put together for him in this marvellous manner. But if this -whale be a king, he is a very sulky looking fellow to grace a diadem. Look -at that hanging lower lip what a huge sulk and pout is there a sulk and -pout, by carpenter's measurement, about twenty feet long and five feet deep -a sulk and pout that will yield you some gallons of oil and more. A great -pity, now, that this unfortunate whale should be harelipped. The fissure is -about a foot across. Probably the mother during an important interval was -sailing down the Peruvian coast, when earthquakes caused the beach to gape. -Over this lip, as over a slippery threshold, we now slide into the mouth. -Upon my word were I at Mackinaw, I should take this to be the inside of an -Indian wigwam. Good Lord is this the road that Jonah went? The roof is -about twelve feet high, and runs to a pretty sharp angle, as if there were a -regular ridgepole there while these ribbed, arched, hairy sides, present us -with those wondrous, half vertical, scimetarshaped slats of whalebone, say -three hundred on a side, which depending from the upper part of the head or -crown bone, form those Venetian blinds which have elsewhere been cursorily -mentioned. The edges of these bones are fringed with hairy fibres, through -which the Right Whale strains the water, and in whose intricacies he retains -the small fish, when openmouthed he goes through the seas of brit in feeding -time. In the central blinds of bone, as they stand in their natural order, -there are certain curious marks, curves, hollows, and ridges, whereby some -whalemen calculate -the creature's age, as the age of an oak by its circular rings. Though the -certainty of this criterion is far from demonstrable, yet it has the savor of -analogical probability. At any rate, if we yield to it, we must grant a far -greater age to the Right Whale than at first glance will seem reasonable. In -old times, there seem to have prevailed the most curious fancies concerning -these blinds. One voyager in Purchas calls them the wondrous whiskers -inside of the whale's mouth another, hogs' bristles a third old gentleman -in Hackluyt uses the following elegant language There are about two hundred -and fifty fins growing on each side of his upper chop, which arch over his -tongue on each side of his mouth. As every one knows, these same hogs' -bristles, fins, whiskers, blinds, or whatever you please, furnish to -the ladies their busks and other stiffening contrivances. But in this -particular, the demand has long been on the decline. It was in Queen Anne's -time that the bone was in its glory, the farthingale being then all the -fashion. And as those ancient dames moved about gaily, though in the jaws of -the whale, as you may say even so, in a shower, with the like -thoughtlessness, do we nowadays fly under the same jaws for protection the -umbrella being a tent spread over the same bone. But now forget all about -blinds and whiskers for a moment, and, standing in the Right Whale's mouth, -look around you afresh. Seeing all these colonnades of bone so methodically -ranged about, would you not think you were inside the great Haarlem organ, -and gazing upon its thousand pipes? For a carpet to the organ we have a rug -of the softest Turkey the tongue, which is glued, as it were, to the floor of -the mouth. It is very fat and tender, and apt to tear in pieces in hoisting -it on deck. This particular tongue now before us at a passing glance I -should say it was a sixbarreler that is, it will yield you about that -amount of oil. Ere this, you must have plainly seen the truth of what I -started with that the Sperm Whale and the Right Whale have almost entirely -different heads. To sum up, then in the Right Whale's there is no great -well of sperm no ivory teeth at all no long, slender mandible of a lower -jaw, like the Sperm Whale's. Nor in the Sperm Whale are there any of those -blinds of bone no huge lower lip and scarcely anything of a tongue. Again, -the Right Whale has two external spoutholes, the Sperm Whale only one. -Look your last, now, on these venerable hooded heads, while they yet lie -together for one will soon sink, unrecorded, in the sea the other will not -be very long in following. Can you catch the expression of the Sperm Whale's -there? It is the same he died with, only some of the longer wrinkles in the -forehead seem now faded away. I think his broad brow to be full of a -prairielike placidity, born of a speculative indifference as to death. -But mark the other head's expression. See that amazing lower lip, pressed by -accident against the vessel's side, so as firmly to embrace the jaw. Does -not this whole head seem to speak of an enormous practical resolution in -facing death? This Right Whale I take to have been a Stoic the Sperm -Whale, a Platonian, who might have taken up Spinoza in his latter years. -This reminds us that the Right Whale really has a sort of whisker, or rather -a moustache, consisting of a few scattered white hairs on the upper part of -the outer end of the lower jaw. Sometimes these tufts impart a rather -brigandish expression to his otherwise solemn countenance. -Ere quitting, for the nonce, the -Sperm Whale's head, I would have you, as a sensible physiologist, simply -particularly remark its front aspect, in all its compacted collectedness. I -would have you investigate it now with the sole view of forming to yourself -some unexaggerated, intelligent estimate of whatever batteringram power may -be lodged there. Here is a vital point for you must either satisfactorily -settle this matter with yourself, or for ever remain an infidel as to one of -the most appalling, -but not the less true events, perhaps anywhere to be found in all recorded -history. You observe that in the ordinary swimming position of the Sperm -Whale, the front of his head presents an almost wholly vertical plane to the -water you observe that the lower part of that front slopes considerably -backwards, so as to furnish more of a retreat for the long socket which -receives the boomlike lower jaw you observe that the mouth is entirely -under the head, much in the same way, indeed, as though your own mouth were -entirely under your chin. Moreover you observe that the whale has no external -nose and that what nose he has his spout hole is on the top of his head -you observe that his eyes and ears are at the sides of his head, nearly one -third of his entire length from the front. Wherefore, you must now have -perceived that the front of the Sperm Whale's head is a dead, blind wall, -without a single organ or tender prominence of any sort whatsoever. -Furthermore, you are now to consider that only in the extreme, lower, backward -sloping part of the front of the head, is there the slightest vestige of bone -and not till you get near twenty feet from the forehead do you come to the -full cranial development. So that this whole enormous boneless mass is as one -wad. Finally, though, as will soon be revealed, its contents partly comprise -the most delicate oil yet, you are now to be apprised of the nature of the -substance which so impregnably invests all that apparent effeminacy. In some -previous place I have described to you how the blubber wraps the body of the -whale, as the rind wraps an orange. Just so with the head but with this -difference about the head this envelope, though not so thick, is of a -boneless toughness, inestimable by any man who has not handled it. The -severest pointed harpoon, the sharpest lance darted by the strongest human -arm, impotently rebounds from it. It is as though the forehead of the Sperm -Whale were paved with horses' hoofs. I do not think that any sensation lurks -in it. Bethink yourself also of another thing. When two large, loaded -Indiamen chance to crowd and crush towards each other in the docks, what do -the sailors do? They do not suspend between them, at the point of coming -contact, any merely hard substance, -like iron or wood. No, they hold there a large, round wad of tow and cork, -enveloped in the thickest and toughest of oxhide. That bravely and uninjured -takes the jam which would have snapped all their oaken handspikes and iron -crowbars. By itself this sufficiently illustrates the obvious fact I drive -at. But supplementary to this, it has hypothetically occurred to me, that -as ordinary fish possess what is called a swimming bladder in them, capable, -at will, of distension or contraction and as the Sperm Whale, as far as I -know, has no such provision in him considering, too, the otherwise -inexplicable manner in which he now depresses his head altogether beneath the -surface, and anon swims with it high elevated out of the water considering -the unobstructed elasticity of its envelop considering the unique interior -of his head it has hypothetically occurred to me, I say, that those mystical -lungcelled honeycombs there may possibly have some hitherto unknown and -unsuspected connexion with the outer air, so as to be susceptible to -atmospheric distension and contraction. If this be so, fancy the -irresistibleness of that might, to which the most impalpable and destructive -of all elements contributes. Now, mark. Unerringly impelling this dead, -impregnable, uninjurable wall, and this most buoyant thing within there -swims behind it all a mass of tremendous life, only to be adequately -estimated as piled wood is by the cord and all obedient to one volition, as -the smallest insect. So that when I shall hereafter detail to you all the -specialities and concentrations of potency everywhere lurking in this -expansive monster when I shall show you some of his more inconsiderable -braining feats I trust you will have renounced all ignorant incredulity, -and be ready to abide by this that though the Sperm Whale stove a passage -through the Isthmus of Darien, and mixed the Atlantic with the Pacific, you -would not elevate one hair of your eyebrow. For unless you own the whale, -you are but a provincial and sentimentalist in Truth. But clear Truth is a -thing for salamander giants only to encounter how small the chances for the -provincials then? What befel the weakling youth lifting the dread goddess's -veil at Sais? -Now comes the Baling of -the Case. But to comprehend it aright, you must know something of the -curious internal structure of the thing operated upon. Regarding the Sperm -whale's head as a solid oblong, you may, on an inclined plane, sideways -divide it into two quoins, whereof the lower is the bony structure, forming -the cranium and jaws, and the upper an unctuous mass wholly free from bones -its broad forward end forming the expanded vertical apparent forehead of the -whale. At the middle of the forehead horizontally subdivide this upper quoin, -and then you have two almost equal parts, which before were naturally -divided by an internal wall of a thick tendinous substance. The lower -subdivided part, called the junk, is one immense honeycomb of oil, formed by -the crossing and recrossing, into ten thousand infiltrated cells, of tough -elastic white fibres throughout its whole extent. The upper part, known as -the Case, may be regarded as the great Heidelburgh Tun of the Sperm Whale. -And as that famous great tierce is mystically carved in front, so the whale's -vast plaited forehead forms innumerable strange devices for the emblematical -adornment of his wondrous tun. Moreover, as that of Heidelburgh was always -replenished with the most excellent of the wines of the Rhenish valleys, so -the tun of the whale contains by far the most precious of all his oily -vintages namely, the highlyprized spermaceti, in its absolutely pure, -limpid, and odoriferous state. Nor is this precious substance found unalloyed -in any other part of the creature. Though in life it remains perfectly fluid, -yet, upon -exposure to the air, after death, it soon begins to concrete sending forth -beautiful crystalline shoots, as when the first thin delicate ice is just -forming in water. A large whale's case generally yields about five hundred -gallons of sperm, though from unavoidable circumstances, considerable of it -is spilled, leaks, and dribbles away, or is otherwise irrevocably lost in the -ticklish business of securing what you can. I know not with what fine and -costly material the heidelburgh Tun was coated within, but in superlative -richness that coating could not possibly have compared with the silken -pearlcolored membrane, like the line of a fine pelisse, forming the inner -surface of the Sperm Whale's case. It will have been seen that the Heidelburgh -Tun of the Sperm Whale embraces the entire length of the entire top of the -head and since as has been elsewhere set forth the head embraces one third -of the whole length of the creature, then setting that length down at eighty -feet for a good sized whale, you have more than twentysix feet for the depth -of the tun, when it is lengthwise hoisted up and down against a ship's side. -As in decapitating the whale, the operator's instrument is brought close to -the spot where an entrance is subsequently forced into the spermaceti -magazine he has, therefore, to be uncommonly heedful, lest a careless, -untimely stroke should invade the sanctuary and wastingly let out its -invaluable contents. It is this decapitated end of the head, also, which is at -last elevated out of the water, and retained in that position by the -enormous cutting tackles, whose hempen combinations, on one side, make -quite a wilderness of ropes in that quarter. Thus much being said, attend -now, I pray you, to that marvellous and in this particular instance -almost fatal operation whereby the Sperm Whale's great Heidelburgh Tun is -tapped. -Quoin is not a Euclidean term. It belongs to the pure nautical mathematics. -I know not that it has been defined before. A quoin is a solid which differs -from a wedge in having its sharp end formed by the steep inclination of one -side, instead of the mutual tapering of both sides. -Nimble as a cat, Tashtego -mounts aloft and without altering his erect posture, runs straight out upon -the overhanging mainyardarm, to the part where it exactly projects over the -hoisted Tun. He has carried with him a light tackle called a whip, -consisting of only two parts, travelling through a singlesheaved block. -Securing this block, so that it hangs down from the yardarm, he swings one -end of the rope, till it is caught and firmly held by a hand on deck. Then, -handoverhand, down the other part, the Indian drops through the air, till -dexterously he lands on the summit of the head. There still high elevated -above the rest of the company, to whom he vivaciously cries he seems some -Turkish Muezzin calling the good people to prayers from the top of a tower. A -shorthandled sharp spade being sent up to him, he diligently searches for -the proper place to begin breaking into the Tun. In this business he proceeds -very heedfully, like a treasurehunter in some old house, sounding the -walls to find where the gold is masoned in. By the time this cautious search -is over, a stout ironbound bucket, precisely like a wellbucket, has been -attached to one end of the whip while the other end, being stretched across -the deck, is there held by two or three alert hands. These last now hoist -the bucket within grasp of the Indian, to whom another person has reached up -a very long pole. Inserting this pole into the bucket, Tashtego downward -guides the bucket into the Tun, till it entirely disappears then giving the -word to the seamen at the whip, up comes the bucket again, all bubbling like -a dairymaid's pail of new milk. Carefully lowered from its height, the -fullfreighted vessel is caught by an appointed hand, and quickly emptied -into a large tub. Then remounting aloft, it again goes through the same -round until the deep cistern will yield no more. Towards the end, Tashtego -has to ram his long pole harder and -harder, and deeper and deeper into the Tun, until some twenty feet of the -pole have gone down. Now, the people of the Pequod had been baling some time -in this way several tubs had been filled with the fragrant sperm when all -at once a queer accident happened. Whether it was that Tashtego, that wild -Indian, was so heedless and reckless as to let go for a moment his onehanded -hold on the great cabled tackles suspending the head or whether the place -where he stood was so treacherous and oozy or whether the Evil One himself -would have it to fall out so, without stating his particular reasons how it -was exactly, there is no telling now but, on a sudden, as the eightieth -or ninetieth bucket came suckingly up my God poor Tashtego like the twin -reciprocating bucket in a veritable well, dropped headforemost down into -this great Tun of Heidelburgh, and with a horrible oily gurgling, went -clean out of sight Man overboard cried Daggoo, who amid the general -consternation first came to his senses. Swing the bucket this way and -putting one foot into it, so as the better to secure his slippery handhold -on the whip itself, the hoisters ran him high up to the top of the head, -almost before Tashtego could have reached its interior bottom. Meantime, -there was a terrible tumult. Looking over the side, they saw the before -lifeless head throbbing and heaving just below the surface of the sea, as if -that moment seized with some momentous idea whereas it was only the poor -Indian unconsciously revealing by those struggles the perilous depth to which -he had sunk. At this instant, while Daggoo, on the summit of the head, was -clearing the whip which had somehow got foul of the great cutting tackles a -sharp cracking noise was heard and to the unspeakable horror of all, one of -the two enormous hooks suspending the head tore out, and with a vast -vibration the enormous mass sideways swung, till the drunk ship reeled and -shook as if smitten by an iceberg. The one remaining hook, upon which the -entire strain now depended, seemed every instant to be on the point of giving -way an event still more likely from the violent motions of the head. Come -down, come down yelled the seamen to Daggoo, but -with one hand holding on to the heavy tackles, so that if the head should -drop, he would still remain suspended the negro having cleared the foul -line, rammed down the bucket into the now collapsed well, meaning that the -buried harpooneer should grasp it, and so be hoisted out. In heaven's name, -man, cried Stubb, are you ramming home a cartridge there? Avast How -will that help him jamming that ironbound bucket on top of his head? Avast, -will ye Stand clear of the tackle cried a voice like the bursting of a -rocket. Almost in the same instant, with a thunderboom, the enormous mass -dropped into the sea, like Niagara's TableRock into the whirlpool the -suddenly relieved hull rolled away from it, to far down her glittering copper -and all caught their breath, as half swinging now over the sailors' heads, -and now over the water Daggoo, through a thick mist of spray, was dimly -beheld clinging to the pendulous tackles, while poor, buriedalive -Tashtego was sinking utterly down to the bottom of the sea But hardly had -the blinding vapor cleared away, when a naked figure with a boardingsword in -its hand, was for one swift moment seen hovering over the bulwarks. The -next, a loud splash announced that my brave Queequeg had dived to the -rescue. One packed rush was made to the side, and every eye counted every -ripple, as moment followed moment, and no sign of either the sinker or the -diver could be seen. Some hands now jumped into a boat alongside, and pushed -a little off from the ship. Ha ha cried Daggoo, all at once, from his -now quiet, swinging perch overhead and looking further off from the side, -we saw an arm thrust upright from the blue waves a sight strange to see, as -an arm thrust forth from the grass over a grave. both both it is both -cried daggoo again with a joyful shout and soon after, Queequeg was seen -boldly striking out with one hand, and with the other clutching the long hair -of the Indian. Drawn into the waiting boat, they were quickly brought to -the deck but Tashtego was long in coming to, and Queequeg did not look very -brisk. -Now, how had this noble rescue been accomplished? Why, diving after the -slowly descending head, Queequeg with his keen sword had made side lunges -near its bottom, so as to scuttle a large hole there then dropping his -sword, had thrust his long arm far inwards and upwards, and so hauled out our -poor Tash by the head. He averred, that upon first thrusting in for him, a -leg was presented but well knowing that that was not as it ought to be, and -might occasion great trouble he had thrust back the leg, and by a -dexterous heave and toss, had wrought a somerset upon the Indian so that -with the next trial, he came forth in the good old way head foremost. As -for the great head itself, that was doing as well as could be expected. And -thus, through the courage and great skill in obstetrics of Queequeg, the -deliverance, or rather, delivery of Tashtego, was successfully accomplished, -in the teeth, too, of the most untoward and apparently hopeless impediments -which is a lesson by no means to be forgotten. Midwifery should be taught in -the same course with fencing and boxing, riding and rowing. I know that this -queer adventure of the GayHeader's will be sure to seem incredible to some -landsmen, though they themselves may have either seen or heard of some one's -falling into a cistern ashore an accident which not seldom happens, and -with much less reason too than the Indian's, considering the exceeding -slipperiness of the curb of the Sperm Whale's well. But, peradventure, it may -be sagaciously urged, how is this? We thought the tissued, infiltrated head -of the Sperm Whale, was the lightest and most corky part about him and yet -thou makest it sink in an element of a far greater specific gravity than -itself. We have thee there. Not at all, but I have ye for at the time -poor Tash fell in, the case had been nearly emptied of its lighter contents, -leaving little but the dense tendinous wall of the well a double welded, -hammered substance, as I have before said, much heavier than the sea water, -and a lump of which sinks in it like lead almost. But the tendency to rapid -sinking in this substance was in the present instance materially counteracted -by the other parts of the head remaining undetached from it, so that it sank -very slowly and deliberately indeed, affording Queequeg a fair chance for -performing his agile -obstetrics on the run, as you may say. Yes, it was a running delivery, so -it was. Now, had Tashtego perished in that head, it had been a very precious -perishing smothered in the very whitest and daintiest of fragrant -spermaceti coffined, hearsed, and tombed in the secret inner chamber and -sanctum sanctorum of the whale. Only one sweeter end can readily be recalled -the delicious death of an Ohio honeyhunter, who seeking honey in the crotch -of a hollow tree, found such exceeding store of it, that leaning too far -over, it sucked him in, so that he died embalmed. How many, think ye, -have likewise fallen into Plato's honey head, and sweetly perished there? -To scan the lines of his face, or feel -the bumps on the head of this Leviathan this is a thing which no -Physiognomist or Phrenologist has as yet undertaken. Such an enterprise would -seem almost as hopeful as for Lavater to have scrutinized the wrinkles on the -Rock of Gibraltar, or for Gall to have mounted a ladder and manipulated the -Dome of the Pantheon. Still, in that famous work of his, Lavater not only -treats of the various faces of men, but also attentively studies the faces of -horses, birds, serpents, and fish and dwells in detail upon the -modifications of expression discernible therein. Nor have Gall and his -disciple Spurzheim failed to throw out some hints touching the phrenological -characteristics of other beings than man. Therefore, though I am but ill -qualified for a pioneer, in the application of these two semisciences to the -whale, I will do my endeavor. I try all things I achieve what I can. -Physiognomically regarded, the Sperm Whale is an anomalous creature. He has -no proper nose. And since the nose is the central and most conspicuous of the -features and since it perhaps -most modifies and finally controls their combined expression hence it would -seem that its entire absence, as an external appendage, must very largely -affect the countenance of the whale. For as in landscape gardening, a spire, -cupola, monument, or tower of some sort, is deemed almost indispensable to -the completion of the scene so no face can be physiognomically in keeping -without the elevated openwork belfry of the nose. Dash the nose from -Phidias's marble Jove, and what a sorry remainder Nevertheless, Leviathan -is of so mighty a magnitude, all his proportions are so stately, that the -same deficiency which in the sculptured Jove were hideous, in him is no -blemish at all. Nay, it is an added grandeur. A nose to the whale would have -been impertinent. As on your physiognomical voyage you sail round his vast -head in your jollyboat, your noble conceptions of him are never insulted by -the reflection that he has a nose to be pulled. A pestilent conceit, which -so often will insist upon obtruding even when beholding the mightiest royal -beadle on his throne. In some particulars, perhaps, the most imposing -physiognomical view to be had of the Sperm Whale, is that of the full front -of his head. This aspect is sublime. In thought a fine human brow is like the -east when troubled with the morning. in the repose of the pasture, the -curled brow of the bull has a touch of the grand in it. Pushing heavy cannon -up mountain defiles, the elephant's brow is majestic. Human or animal, the -mystical brow is as that great golden seal affixed by the German emperors to -their decrees. It signifies God done this day by my hand. But in most -creatures, nay in man himself, very often the brow is but a mere strip of -alpine land lying along the snow line. Few are the foreheads which like -Shakespeare's or Melancthon's rise so high, and descend so low, that the eyes -themselves seem clear, eternal, tideless mountain lakes and all above them -in the forehead's wrinkles, you seem to track the antlered thoughts descending -there to drink, as the Highland hunters track the snow prints of the deer. -But in the great Sperm Whale, this high and mighty godlike dignity inherent -in the brow is so immensely amplified, that gazing on it, in that full front -view, you feel the Deity and the dread powers -more forcibly than in beholding any other object in living nature. For you see -no one point precisely not one distinct feature is revealed no nose, eyes, -ears, or mouth no face he has none, proper nothing but that one broad -firmament of a forehead, pleated with riddles dumbly lowering with the doom -of boats, and ships, and men. Nor, in profile, does this wondrous brow -diminish though that way viewed, its grandeur does not domineer upon you -so. In profile, you plainly perceive that horizontal, semicrescentic -depression in the forehead's middle, which, in man, is Lavater's mark of -genius. But how? Genius in the Sperm Whale? Has the Sperm Whale ever -written a book, spoken a speech? No, his great genius is declared in his -doing nothing particular to prove it. It is moreover declared in his -pyramidical silence. And this reminds me that had the great Sperm Whale been -known to the young Orient World, he would have been deified by their -childmagian thoughts. they deified the crocodile of the nile, because the -crocodile is tongueless and the Sperm Whale has no tongue, or as least it -is so exceedingly small, as to be incapable of protrusion. If hereafter any -highly cultured, poetical nation shall lure back to their birthright, the -merry Mayday gods of old and livingly enthrone them again in the now -egotistical sky in the now unhaunted hill then be sure, exalted to Jove's -high seat, the great Sperm Whale shall lord it. Champollion deciphered the -wrinkled granite hieroglyphics. But there is no Champollion to decipher the -Egypt of every man's and every being's face. Physiognomy, like every other -human science, is but a passing fable. If then, Sir William Jones, who -read in thirty languages, could not read the simplest peasant's face, in its -profounder and more subtle meanings, how may unlettered Ishmael hope to read -the awful Chaldee of the Sperm Whale's brow? I but put that brow before you. -Read if it you can. -I had not been seated very long ere a man -of a certain venerable robustness entered immediately as the stormpelted -door flew back upon admitting him, a quick regardful eyeing of him by all -the congregation, sufficiently attested that this fine old man was the -chaplain. Yes, it was the famous Father Mapple, so called by the whalemen, -among whom he was a very great favorite. He had been a sailor and a -harpooneer in his youth, but for many years past had dedicated his life to the -ministry. At the time I now write of, Father Mapple was in the hardy winter -of a healthy old age that sort of old age which seems merging into a second -flowering youth, for among all the fissures of his wrinkles, there shone -certain mild gleams of a newly developing bloom the spring verdure peeping -forth even beneath February's snow. No one having previously heard his -history, could for the first time behold Father Mapple without the utmost -interest, because there were certain engrafted clerical peculiarities about -him, imputable to that adventurous maritime life he had led. When he entered -I observed that he carried no umbrella, and certainly had not come in his -carriage, for his tarpaulin hat ran down with melting sleet, and his great -pilot cloth jacket seemed almost to drag him to the floor with the weight of -the water it had absorbed. However, hat and coat and overshoes were one by -one removed, and hung up in a little space in an adjacent corner when, -arrayed in a decent suit, he quietly approached the pulpit. Like most old -fashioned pulpits, it was a very lofty one, and since a regular stairs to -such a height would, by its long angle with the floor, seriously contract the -already small area of the chapel, the architect, it seemed, had acted upon the -hint of Father Mapple, and finished the pulpit without a stairs, substituting -a perpendicular side ladder, like those used in mounting -a ship from a boat at sea. The wife of a whaling captain had provided the -chapel with a handsome pair of red worsted manropes for this ladder, which, -being itself nicely headed, and stained with a mahogany color, the whole -contrivance, considering what manner of chapel it was, seemed by no means in -bad taste. Halting for an instant at the foot of the ladder, and with both -hands grasping the ornamental knobs of the manropes, Father Mapple cast a -look upwards, and then with a truly sailorlike but still reverential -dexterity, hand over hand, mounted the steps as if ascending the maintop of -his vessel. the perpendicular parts of this side ladder, as is usually the -case with swinging ones, were of clothcovered rope, only the rounds were of -wood, so that at every step there was a joint. At my first glimpse of the -pulpit, it had not escaped me that however convenient for a ship, these -joints in the present instance seemed unnecessary. For I was not prepared to -see Father Mapple after gaining the height, slowly turn round, and stooping -over the pulpit, deliberately drag up the ladder step by step, till the whole -was deposited within, leaving him impregnable in his little Quebec. I -pondered some time without fully comprehending the reason for this. Father -Mapple enjoyed such a wide reputation for sincerity and sanctity, that I -could not suspect him of courting notoriety by any mere tricks of the stage. -No, thought I, there must be some sober reason for this thing furthermore, -it must symbolize something unseen. Can it be, then, that by that act of -physical isolation, he signifies his spiritual withdrawal for the time, from -all outward worldly ties and connexions? Yes, for replenished with the meat -and wine of the word, to the faithful man of God, this pulpit, I see, is a -selfcontaining stronghold a lofty Ehrenbreitstein, with a perennial well -of water within the walls. But the side ladder was not the only strange -feature of the place, borrowed from the chaplain's former seafarings. -Between the marble cenotaphs on either hand of the pulpit, the wall which -formed its back was adorned with a large painting representing a gallant ship -beating against a terrible storm off a lee coast of black rocks and snowy -breakers. But high above the -flying scud and darkrolling clouds, there floated a little isle of sunlight, -from which beamed forth an angel's face and this bright face shed a distinct -spot of radiance upon the ship's tossed deck, something like that silver -plate now inserted into the Victory's plank where Nelson fell. Ah, noble -ship, the angel seemed to say, beat on, beat on, thou noble ship, and -bear a hardy helm for lo the sun is breaking through the clouds are -rolling off serenest azure is at hand. Nor was the pulpit itself without a -trace of the same seataste that had achieved the ladder and the picture. Its -panelled front was in the likeness of a ship's bluff bows, and the Holy Bible -rested on the projecting piece of scroll work, fashioned after a ship's -fiddleheaded beak. What could be more full of meaning? for the pulpit is -ever this earth's foremost part all the rest comes in its rear the pulpit -leads the world. From thence it is the storm of God's quick wrath is first -descried, and the bow must bear the earliest brunt. From thence it is the -God of breezes fair or foul is first invoked for favorable winds. Yes, the -world's a ship on its passage out, and not a voyage complete and the pulpit -is its prow. -If the Sperm Whale be physiognomically a -Sphinx, to the phrenologist his brain seems that geometrical circle which it -is impossible to square. In the fullgrown creature the skull will measure at -least twenty feet in length. Unhinge the lower jaw, and the side view of -this skull is as the side view of a moderately inclined plane resting -throughout on a level base. But in life as we have elsewhere seen this -inclined plane is angularly filled up, and almost squared by the enormous -superincumbent mass of the junk and sperm. At the high end the skull forms a -crater to bed that part of the mass while under the long floor of this -crater in another cavity seldom exceeding ten inches in length and as many -in depth reposes the mere handful of this monster's brain. The brain is at -least twenty feet from his apparent forehead in life it is hidden away -behind its vast outworks, like the innermost citadel within the amplified -fortifications of Quebec. So like a choice casket is it secreted in him, -that I have known some whalemen who peremptorily deny that the Sperm Whale -has any other brain than that palpable semblance of one formed by the -cubicyards of his sperm magazine. Lying in strange folds, courses, and -convolutions, to their apprehensions, it seems more in keeping with the idea -of his general might to regard that mystic part of him as the seat of his -intelligence. It is plain, then, that phrenologically the head of this -Leviathan, in the creature's living intact state, is an entire delusion. As -for his true brain, you can then see no indications of it, nor feel any. -The whale, like all things that are mighty, wears a false brow to the common -world. If you unload his skull of its spermy heaps and then take a rear view -of its rear end, which is the high end, you will be -struck by its resemblance to the human skull, beheld in the same situation, -and from the same point of view. Indeed, place this reversed skull scaled -down to the human magnitude among a plate of men's skulls, and you would -involuntarily confound it with them and remarking the depressions on one -part of its summit, in phrenological phrase you would say This man had no -selfesteem, and no veneration. And by those negations, considered along with -the affirmative fact of his prodigious bulk and power, you can best form to -yourself the truest, though not the most exhilarating conception of what the -most exalted potency is. But if from the comparative dimensions of the -whale's proper brain, you deem it incapable of being adequately charted, -then I have another idea for you. If you attentively regard almost any -quadruped's spine, you will be struck with the resemblance of its vertebrae -to a strung necklace of dwarfed skulls, all bearing rudimental resemblance -to the skull proper. It is a German conceit, that the vertebrae are -absolutely undeveloped skulls. But the curious external resemblance, I take -it the Germans were not the first men to perceive. A foreign friend once -pointed it out to me, in the skeleton of a foe he had slain, and with the -vertebrae of which he was inlaying, in a sort of bassorelievo, the beaked -prow of his canoe. Now, I consider that the phrenologists have omitted an -important thing in not pushing their investigations from the cerebellum -through the spinal canal. For I believe that much of a man's character will be -found betokened in his backbone. I would rather feel your spine than your -skull, whoever you are. A thin joist of a spine never yet upheld a full and -noble soul. I rejoice in my spine, as in the firm audacious staff of that -flag which I fling half out to the world. Apply this spinal branch of -phrenology to the Sperm Whale. His cranial cavity is continuous with the first -neckvertebra and in that vertebra the bottom of the spinal canal will -measure ten inches across, being eight in height, and of a triangular -figure with the base downwards. As it passes through the remaining vertebrae -the canal tapers in size, but for a considerable distance remains of large -capacity. Now, of course, this -canal is filled with much the same strangely fibrous substance the spinal -cord as the brain and directly communicates with the brain. And what is -still more, for many feet after emerging from the brain's cavity, the spinal -cord remains of an undecreasing girth, almost equal to that of the brain. -Under all these circumstances, would it be unreasonable to survey and map -out the whale's spine phrenologically? For, viewed in this light, the -wonderful comparative smallness of his brain proper is more than compensated -by the wonderful comparative magnitude of his spinal cord. But leaving this -hint to operate as it may with the phrenologists, I would merely assume the -spinal theory for a moment, in reference to the sperm whale's hump. This -august hump, if I mistake not, rises over one of the larger vertebrae, and -is, therefore, in some sort, the outer convex mould of it. From its relative -situation then, I should call this high hump the organ of firmness or -indomitableness in the Sperm Whale. And that the great monster is -indomitable, you will yet have reason to know. -The predestinated day -arrived, and we duly met the ship Jungfrau, Derick De Deer, master, of -Bremen. At one time the greatest whaling people in the world, the Dutch and -Germans are now among the least but here and there at very wide intervals of -latitude and longitude, you still occasionally meet with their flag in the -Pacific. For some reason, the Jungfrau seemed quite eager to pay her -respects. While yet some distance from the Pequod, she rounded to, and -dropping a boat, her captain was impelled towards us, impatiently standing -in the bows instead of the stern. -What has he in his hand there? cried Starbuck, pointing to something -wavingly held by the German. Impossible a lampfeeder Not that, said -Stubb, no, no, it's a coffeepot, Mr. Starbuck he's coming off to make -us our coffee, is the Yarman don't you see that big tin can there alongside -of him? that's his boiling water. Oh he's all right, is the Yarman. Go -along with you, cried Flask, it's a lampfeeder and an oilcan. He's out -of oil, and has come abegging. However curious it may seem for an oilship -to be borrowing oil on the whaleground, and however much it may invertedly -contradict the old proverb about carrying coals to Newcastle, yet sometimes -such a thing really happens and in the present case Captain Derick De Deer -did indubitably conduct a lampfeeder as Flask did declare. As he mounted the -deck, ahab abruptly accosted him, without at all heeding what he had in his -hand but in his broken lingo, the German soon evinced his complete -ignorance of the White Whale immediately turning the conversation to his -lampfeeder and oil can, with some remarks touching his having to turn into -his hammock at night in profound darkness his last drop of Bremen oil being -gone, and not a single flyingfish yet captured to supply the deficiency -concluding by hinting that his ship was indeed what in the Fishery is -technically called a clean one that is, an empty one, well deserving the -name of Jungfrau or the Virgin. His necessities supplied, Derick departed -but he had not gained his ship's side, when whales were almost simultaneously -raised from the mastheads of both vessels and so eager for the chase was -Derick, that without pausing to put his oilcan and lampfeeder aboard, he -slewed round his boat and made after the leviathan lampfeeders. Now, the -game having risen to leeward, he and the other three German boats that soon -followed him, had considerably the start of the Pequod's keels. There were -eight whales, an average pod. Aware of their danger, they were going all -abreast with great speed straight before the wind, rubbing their flanks as -closely as so many spans of horses in harness. They left a -great, wide wake, as though continually unrolling a great wide parchment upon -the sea. Full in this rapid wake, and many fathoms in the rear, swam a -huge, humped old bull, which by his comparatively slow progress, as well as -by the unusual yellowish incrustations overgrowing him, seemed afflicted -with the jaundice, or some other infirmity. Whether this whale belonged to -the pod in advance, seemed questionable for it is not customary for such -venerable leviathans to be at all social. Nevertheless, he stuck to their -wake, though indeed their back water must have retarded him, because the -whitebone or swell at his broad muzzle was a dashed one, like the swell -formed when two hostile currents meet. His spout was short, slow, and -laborious coming forth with a choking sort of gush, and spending itself in -torn shreds, followed by strange subterranean commotions in him, which -seemed to have egress at his other buried extremity, causing the waters -behind him to upbubble. Who's got some paregoric? said Stubb, he has the -stomachache, I'm afraid. Lord, think of having half an acre of stomachache -Adverse winds are holding mad Christmas in him, boys. It's the first foul -wind I ever knew to blow from astern but look, did ever whale yaw so -before? it must be, he's lost his tiller. As an overladen Indiaman bearing -down the Hindostan coast with a deck load of frightened horses, careens, -buries, rolls, and wallows on her way so did this old whale heave his aged -bulk, and now and then partly turning over on his cumbrous ribends, expose -the cause of his devious wake in the unnatural stump of his starboard fin. -Whether he had lost that fin in battle, or had been born without it, it were -hard to say. Only wait a bit, old chap, and I'll give ye a sling for that -wounded arm, cried cruel Flask, pointing to the whaleline near him. Mind -he don't sling thee with it, cried Starbuck. Give way, or the German will -have him. With one intent all the combined rival boats were pointed for this -one fish, because not only was he the largest, and therefore the most -valuable whale, but he was nearest to them, and the other whales were going -with such great velocity, moreover, -as almost to defy pursuit for the time. At this juncture, the Pequod's keel -had shot by the three German boats last lowered but from the great start he -had had, Derick's boat still led the chase, though every moment neared by -his foreign rivals. The only thing they feared, was, that from being already -so nigh to his mark, he would be enabled to dart his iron before they could -completely overtake and pass him. as for derick, he seemed quite confident -that this would be the case, and occasionally with a deriding gesture shook -his lampfeeder at the other boats. The ungracious and ungrateful dog -cried Starbuck he mocks and dares me with the very poorbox I filled for -him not five minutes ago then in his old intense whisper give way, -greyhounds Dog to it I tell ye what it is, men cried Stubb to his crew -It's against my religion to get mad but I'd like to eat that villanous -Yarman Pullwon't ye? Are ye going to let that rascal beat ye? Do ye love -brandy? A hogshead of brandy, then, to the best man. Come, why don't some of -ye burst a bloodvessel? Who's that been dropping an anchor overboard we -don't budge an inch we're becalmed. Halloo, here's grass growing in the -boat's bottom and by the Lord, the mast there's budding. This won't do, -boys. Look at that Yarman The short and long of it is, men, will ye spit -fire or not? Oh see the suds he makes cried Flask, dancing up and down -What a hump Oh, do pile on the beef lays like a log Oh my lads, do -spring slapjacks and quohogs for supper, you know, my lads baked clams and -muffins oh, do, do spring he's a hundred barreler don't lose him now -don't oh, don't see that Yarman Oh won't ye pull for your duff, my -lads such a sog such a sogger Don't ye love sperm? There goes three -thousand dollars, men a bank a whole bank The bank of England Oh, do, -do, do What's that Yarman about now? At this moment Derick was in the act -of pitching his lampfeeder at the advancing boats, and also his oilcan -perhaps with the double view of retarding his rivals' way, and at the same -time economically accelerating his own by the momentary impetus of the -backward toss. The unmannerly Dutch dogger cried Stubb. Pull now, -men, like fifty thousand lineofbattleship loads of redhaired devils. What -d'ye say, Tashtego are you the man to snap your spine in twoandtwenty -pieces for the honor of old Gayhead? What d'ye say? I say, pull like -goddam, cried the Indian. Fiercely, but evenly incited by the taunts of -the German, the Pequod's three boats now began ranging almost abreast and, -so disposed, momentarily neared him. In that fine, loose, chivalrous attitude -of the headsman when drawing near to his prey, the three mates stood up -proudly, occasionally backing the after oarsman with an exhilarating cry of, -There she slides, now Hurrah for the whiteash breeze Down with the -Yarman Sail over him But so decided an original start had Derick had, -that spite of all their gallantry, he would have proved the victor in this -race, had not a righteous judgment descended upon him in a crab which caught -the blade of his midship oarsman. While this clumsy lubber was striving to -free his whiteash, and while, in consequence, Derick's boat was nigh to -capsizing, and he thundering away at his men in a mighty rage that was a -good time for Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask. With a shout, they took a mortal -start forwards, and slantingly ranged up on the German's quarter. An instant -more, and all four boats were diagonically in the whale's immediate wake, -while stretching from them, on both sides, was the foaming swell that he made. -It was a terrific, most pitiable, and maddening sight. The whale was now -going head out, and sending his spout before him in a continual tormented -jet while his one poor fin beat his side in an agony of fright. Now to this -hand, now to that, he yawed in his faltering flight, and still at every -billow that he broke, he spasmodically sank in the sea, or sideways rolled -towards the sky his one beating fin. So have I seen a bird with clipped wing, -making affrighted broken circles in the air, vainly striving to escape the -piratical hawks. But the bird has a voice, and with plaintive cries will make -known her fear but the fear of this vast dumb brute of the sea, was chained -up and enchanted in him he had no voice, save that choking respiration -through his spiracle, and this made the sight of him unspeakably -pitiable while still, in his amazing bulk, portcullis jaw, and omnipotent -tail, there was enough to appal the stoutest man who so pitied. Seeing now -that but a very few moments more would give the Pequod's boats the advantage, -and rather than be thus foiled of his game, Derick chose to hazard what to -him must have seemed a most unusually long dart, ere the last chance would -for ever escape. But no sooner did his harpooneer stand up for the stroke, -than all three tigers Queequeg, Tashtego, Daggoo instinctively sprang to -their feet, and standing in a diagonal row, simultaneously pointed their -barbs and darted over the head of the German harpooneer, their three -Nantucket irons entered the whale. Blinding vapors of foam and whitefire -The three boats, in the first fury of the whale's headlong rush, bumped the -German's aside with such force, that both Derick and his baffled harpooneer -were spilled out, and sailed over by the three flying keels. Don't be -afraid, my butterboxes, cried Stubb, casting a passing glance upon them as -he shot by ye'll be picked up presently all right I saw some sharks -astern St. Bernard's dogs, you know relieve distressed travellers. -Hurrah this is the way to sail now. Every keel a sunbeam Hurrah Here -we go like three tin kettles at the tail of a mad cougar This puts me in -mind of fastening to an elephant in a tilbury on a plain makes the -wheelspokes fly, boys, when you fasten to him that way and there's danger of -being pitched out too, when you strike a hill. Hurrah this is the way a -fellow feels when he's going to Davy Jones all a rush down an endless -inclined plane Hurrah this whale carries the everlasting mail But the -monster's run was a brief one. Giving a sudden gasp, he tumultuously sounded. -With a grating rush, the three lines flew round the loggerheads with such a -force as to gouge deep grooves in them while so fearful were the -harpooneers that this rapid sounding would soon exhaust the lines, that using -all their dexterous might, they caught repeated smoking turns with the rope -to hold on till at last owing to the perpendicular strain from the -leadlined chocks of the boats, whence the three -ropes went straight down into the blue the gunwales of the bows were almost -even with the water, while the three sterns tilted high in the air. And the -whale soon ceasing to sound, for some time they remained in that attitude, -fearful of expending more line, though the position was a little ticklish. -But though boats have been taken down and lost in this way, yet it is this -holding on, as it is called this hooking up by the sharp barbs of his live -flesh from the back this it is that often torments the Leviathan into soon -rising again to meet the sharp lance of his foes. Yet not to speak of the -peril of the thing, it is to be doubted whether this course is always the -best for it is but reasonable to presume, that the longer the stricken -whale stays under water, the more he is exhausted. Because, owing to the -enormous surface of him in a full grown sperm whale something less than -square feet the pressure of the water is immense. We all know what an -astonishing atmospheric weight we ourselves stand up under even here, -aboveground, in the air how vast, then, the burden of a whale, bearing on -his back a column of two hundred fathoms of ocean It must at least equal the -weight of fifty atmospheres. One whaleman has estimated it at the weight of -twenty lineofbattle ships, with all their guns, and stores, and men on -board. As the three boats lay there on that gently rolling sea, gazing down -into its eternal blue noon and as not a single groan or cry of any sort, -nay, not so much as a ripple or a bubble came up from its depths what -landsman would have thought, that beneath all that silence and placidity, the -utmost monster of the seas was writhing and wrenching in agony Not eight -inches of perpendicular rope were visible at the bows. Seems it credible -that by three such thin threads the great Leviathan was suspended like the big -weight to an eight day clock. Suspended? and to what? To three bits of -board. Is this the creature of whom it was once so triumphantly said Canst -thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fishspears? The -sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold, the spear, the dart, nor the -habergeon he esteemeth iron as straw the arrow cannot make him flee -darts are counted as stubble he laugheth at the shaking of a spear This -the creature? this he? Oh that unfulfilments -should follow the prophets. For with the strength of a thousand thighs in his -tail, Leviathan had run his head under the mountains of the sea, to hide him -from the Pequod's fishspears In that sloping afternoon sunlight, the -shadows that the three boats sent down beneath the surface, must have been -long enough and broad enough to shade half Xerxes' army. Who can tell how -appalling to the wounded whale must have been such huge phantoms flitting over -his head Stand by, men he stirs, cried Starbuck, as the three lines -suddenly vibrated in the water, distinctly conducting upwards to them, as by -magnetic wires, the life and death throbs of the whale, so that every oarsman -felt them in his seat. The next moment, relieved in a great part from the -downward strain at the bows, the boats gave a sudden bounce upwards, as a -small icefield will, when a dense herd of white bears are scared from it -into the sea. Haul in Haul in cried Starbuck again he's rising. The -lines, of which, hardly an instant before, not one hand's breadth could have -been gained, were now in long quick coils flung back all dripping into the -boats, and soon the whale broke water within two ship's lengths of the -hunters. His motions plainly denoted his extreme exhaustion. In most land -animals there are certain valves or floodgates in many of their veins, -whereby when wounded, the blood is in some degree at least instantly shut off -in certain directions. Not so with the whale one of whose peculiarities it -is, to have an entire nonvalvular structure of the bloodvessels, so that -when pierced even by so small a point as a harpoon, a deadly drain is at once -begun upon his whole arterial system and when this is heightened by the -extraordinary pressure of water at a great distance below the surface, his -life may be said to pour from him in incessant streams. Yet so vast is the -quantity of blood in him, and so distant and numerous its interior fountains, -that he will keep thus bleeding and bleeding for a considerable period even -as in a drought a river will flow, whose source is in the wellsprings of -faroff and undiscernible hills. Even now, when the boats pulled upon this -whale, and perilously drew over his swaying -flukes, and the lances were darted into him, they were followed by steady -jets from the new made wound, which kept continually playing, while the -natural spouthole in his head was only at intervals, however rapid, sending -its affrighted moisture into the air. From this last vent no blood yet came, -because no vital part of him had thus far been struck. His life, as they -significantly call it, was untouched. As the boats now more closely -surrounded him, the whole upper part of his form, with much of it that is -ordinarily submerged, was plainly revealed. His eyes, or rather the places -where his eyes had been, were beheld. As strange misgrown masses gather in -the knotholes of the noblest oaks when prostrate, so from the points which -the whale's eyes had once occupied, now protruded blind bulbs, horribly -pitiable to see. but pity there was none. For all his old age, and his one -arm, and his blind eyes, he must die the death and be murdered, in order to -light the gay bridals and other merrymakings of men, and also to illuminate -the solemn churches that preach unconditional inoffensiveness by all to all. -Still rolling in his blood, at last he partially disclosed a strangely -discolored bunch or protuberance, the size of a bushel, low down on the flank. -A nice spot, cried Flask just let me prick him there once. Avast -cried Starbuck, there's no need of that But humane Starbuck was too late. -At the instant of the dart an ulcerous jet shot from this cruel wound, and -goaded by it into more than sufferable anguish, the whale now spouting thick -blood, with swift fury blindly darted at the craft, bespattering them and -their glorying crews all over with showers of gore, capsizing Flask's boat and -marring the bows. It was his death stroke. For, by this time, so spent was -he by loss of blood, that he helplessly rolled away from the wreck he had -made lay panting on his side, impotently flapped with his stumped fin, -then over and over slowly revolved like a waning world turned up the white -secrets of his belly lay like a log, and died. It was most piteous, that -last expiring spout. As when by unseen hands the water is gradually drawn off -from some mighty fountain, and with halfstifled melancholy gurglings the -spraycolumn lowers and lowers to the ground so the last long dying spout -of the whale. -Soon, while the crews were awaiting the arrival of the ship, the body showed -symptoms of sinking with all its treasures unrifled. Immediately, by -Starbuck's orders, lines were secured to it at different points, so that ere -long every boat was a buoy the sunken whale being suspended a few inches -beneath them by the cords. By very heedful management, when the ship drew -nigh, the whale was transferred to her side, and was strongly secured there -by the stiffest flukechains, for it was plain that unless artificially -upheld, the body would at once sink to the bottom. It so chanced that almost -upon first cutting into him with the spade, the entire length of a corroded -harpoon was found imbedded in his flesh, on the lower part of the bunch -before described. But as the stumps of harpoons are frequently found in the -dead bodies of captured whales, with the flesh perfectly healed around them, -and no prominence of any kind to denote their place therefore, there must -needs have been some other unknown reason in the present case fully to account -for the ulceration alluded to. But still more curious was the fact of a -lancehead of stone being found in him, not far from the buried iron, the -flesh perfectly firm about it. Who had darted that stone lance? And when? -It might have been darted by some Nor' West Indian long before America was -discovered. What other marvels might have been rummaged out of this monstrous -cabinet there is no telling. But a sudden stop was put to further -discoveries, by the ship's being unprecedentedly dragged over sideways to the -sea, owing to the body's immensely increasing tendency to sink. However, -Starbuck, who had the ordering of affairs, hung on to it to the last hung -on to it so resolutely, indeed, that when at length the ship would have been -capsized, if still persisting in locking arms with the body then, when the -command was given to break clear from it, such was the immovable strain upon -the timberheads to which the flukechains and cables were fastened, that it -was impossible to cast them off. Meantime everything in the Pequod was -aslant. To cross to the other side of the deck was like walking up the steep -gabled roof of a house. The ship groaned and gasped. Many of the ivory -inlayings of her bulwarks and cabins were started from their places, by the -unnatural dislocation. In -vain handspikes and crows were brought to bear upon the immovable -flukechains, to pry them adrift from the timberheads and so low had the -whale now settled that the submerged ends could not be at all approached, -while every moment whole tons of ponderosity seemed added to the sinking bulk, -and the ship seemed on the point of going over. Hold on, hold on, won't -ye? cried Stubb to the body, don't be in such a devil of a hurry to sink -By thunder, men, we must do something or go for it. No use prying there -avast, I say with your handspikes, and run one of ye for a prayer book and a -penknife, and cut the big chains. Knife? Aye, aye, cried Queequeg, and -seizing the carpenter's heavy hatchet, he leaned out of a porthole, and -steel to iron, began slashing at the largest flukechains. But a few strokes, -full of sparks, were given, when the exceeding strain effected the rest. -With a terrific snap, every fastening went adrift the ship righted, the -carcase sank. Now, this occasional inevitable sinking of the recently killed -Sperm Whale is a very curious thing nor has any fisherman yet adequately -accounted for it. Usually the dead Sperm Whale floats with great buoyancy, -with its side or belly considerably elevated above the surface. If the only -whales that thus sank were old, meagre, and brokenhearted creatures, their -pads of lard diminished and all their bones heavy and rheumatic then you -might with some reason assert that this sinking is caused by an uncommon -specific gravity in the fish so sinking, consequent upon this absence of -buoyant matter in him. But it is not so. For young whales, in the highest -health, and swelling with noble aspirations, prematurely cut off in the warm -flush and May of life, with all their panting lard about them even these -brawny, buoyant heroes do sometimes sink. Be it said, however, that the Sperm -Whale is far less liable to this accident than any other species. Where one -of that sort go down, twenty Right Whales do. This difference in the -species is no doubt imputable in no small degree to the greater quantity of -bone in the Right Whale his Venetian blinds alone sometimes weighing more -than a ton from this incumbrance the Sperm Whale is wholly free. But there -are instances where, -after the lapse of many hours or several days, the sunken whale again rises, -more buoyant than in life. But the reason of this is obvious. Gases are -generated in him he swells to a prodigious magnitude becomes a sort of -animal balloon. A lineofbattle ship could hardly keep him under then. In -the Shore Whaling, on soundings, among the Bays of New Zealand, when a Right -Whale gives token of sinking, they fasten buoys to him, with plenty of -rope so that when the body has gone down, they know where to look for it -when it shall have ascended again. It was not long after the sinking of the -body that a cry was heard from the Pequod's mastheads, announcing that the -Jungfrau was again lowering her boats though the only spout in sight was -that of a FinBack, belonging to the species of uncapturable whales, -because of its incredible power of swimming. Nevertheless, the FinBack's -spout is so similar to the Sperm Whale's, that by unskilful fishermen it is -often mistaken for it. And consequently Derick and all his host were now in -valiant chase of this unnearable brute. The Virgin crowding all sail, made -after her four young keels, and thus they all disappeared far to leeward, -still in bold, hopeful chase. Oh many are the FinBacks, and many are the -Dericks, my friend. -There are some -enterprises in which a careful disorderliness is the true method. The more I -dive into this matter of whaling, and push my researches up to the very -springhead of it, so much the more am I impressed with its great -honorableness and antiquity and especially when I find so many great -demigods and heroes, prophets of all sorts, who one way or other have shed -distinction upon it, I am transported with the reflection that I myself -belong, though but subordinately, to so emblazoned a fraternity. The gallant -Perseus, a son of Jupiter, was the first whaleman and to the eternal honor of -our calling be it said, that the first whale attacked by our brotherhood was -not killed with any sordid intent. Those were the knightly days of our -profession, when we only bore arms to succor the distressed, and not to fill -men's lampfeeders. Every one knows the fine story of Perseus and Andromeda -how the lovely Andromeda, the daughter of a king, was tied to a rock on the -seacoast, and as Leviathan was in the very act of carrying her off, -Perseus, the prince of whalemen, intrepidly advancing, harpooned the monster, -and delivered and married the maid. It was an admirable artistic exploit, -rarely achieved by the best harpooneers of the present day inasmuch as this -Leviathan was slain at the very first dart. And let no man doubt this Arkite -story for in the ancient Joppa, now Jaffa, on the Syrian coast, in one of -the Pagan temples, there stood for many ages the vast skeleton of a whale, -which the city's legends and all the inhabitants asserted to be the identical -bones of the monster that Perseus slew. When the Romans took Joppa, the same -skeleton was carried to Italy in triumph. What seems most singular and -suggestively important in this story, is this it was from Joppa that Jonah -set sail. Akin to the adventure of Perseus and Andromeda indeed, by some -supposed to be indirectly derived from it is that famous story of St. George -and the Dragon which dragon I maintain to have been a whale for in many -old chronicles whales and dragons are strangely jumbled together, and often -stand for each other. Thou art as a lion of the waters, and as a dragon of -the sea, saith ezekiel hereby, plainly meaning a whale in truth, some -versions of the Bible use that word itself. Besides, it would much subtract -from the glory of the exploit had St. George but encountered a crawling -reptile of the land, instead of doing battle with the great monster of the -deep. Any man may kill a snake, but only a Perseus, a St. George, a Coffin, -have the heart in them to march boldly up to a whale. Let not the modern -paintings of this scene mislead us for though the creature encountered by -that valiant whaleman of old is vaguely represented of a griffinlike shape, -and though -the battle is depicted on land and the saint on horseback, yet considering -the great ignorance of those times, when the true form of the whale was -unknown to artists and considering that as in Perseus' case, St. George's -whale might have crawled up out of the sea on the beach and considering that -the animal ridden by St. George might have been only a large seal, or -seahorse bearing all this in mind, it will not appear altogether -incompatible with the sacred legend and the ancientest draughts of the scene, -to hold this socalled dragon no other than the great Leviathan himself. In -fact, placed before the strict and piercing truth, this whole story will -fare like that fish, flesh, and fowl idol of the Philistines, Dagon by name -who being planted before the ark of Israel, his horse's head and both the -palms of his hands fell off from him, and only the stump or fishy part of him -remained. Thus, then, one of our own noble stamp, even a whaleman, is the -tutelary guardian of England and by good rights, we harpooneers of Nantucket -should be enrolled in the most noble order of St. George. And therefore, let -not the knights of that honorable company none of whom, I venture to say, -have ever had to do with a whale like their great patron, let them never eye -a Nantucketer with disdain, since even in our woollen frocks and tarred -trowsers we are much better entitled to st. george's decoration than they. -Whether to admit Hercules among us or not, concerning this I long remained -dubious for though according to the Greek mythologies, that antique -Crockett and Kit Carson that brawny doer of rejoicing good deeds, was -swallowed down and thrown up by a whale still, whether that strictly makes a -whaleman of him, that might be mooted. It nowhere appears that he ever -actually harpooned his fish, unless, indeed, from the inside. Nevertheless, -he may be deemed a sort of involuntary whaleman at any rate the whale caught -him, if he did not the whale. I claim him for one of our clan. But, by the -best contradictory authorities, this Grecian story of Hercules and the whale -is considered to be derived from the still more ancient Hebrew story of Jonah -and the whale and vice versa certainly they are very similar. If I claim -the demigod then, why not the prophet? -Nor do heroes, saints, demigods, and prophets alone comprise the whole roll of -our order. Our grand master is still to be named for like royal kings of -old times, we find the headwaters of our fraternity in nothing short of the -great gods themselves. That wondrous oriental story is now to be rehearsed -from the Shaster, which gives us the dread Vishnoo, one of the three persons -in the godhead of the Hindoos gives us this divine Vishnoo himself for our -Lord Vishnoo, who, by the first of his ten earthly incarnations, has for -ever set apart and sanctified the whale. When Brahma, or the God of Gods, -saith the Shaster, resolved to recreate the world after one of its -periodical dissolutions, he gave birth to Vishnoo, to preside over the work -but the Vedas, or mystical books, whose perusal would seem to have been -indispensable to Vishnoo before beginning the creation, and which therefore -must have contained something in the shape of practical hints to young -architects, these Vedas were lying at the bottom of the waters so Vishnoo -became incarnate in a whale, and sounding down in him to the uttermost -depths, rescued the sacred volumes. Was not this Vishnoo a whaleman, then? -even as a man who rides a horse is called a horseman? Perseus, St. George, -Hercules, Jonah, and Vishnoo there's a memberroll for you What club but -the whaleman's can head off like that? -Reference was made to -the historical story of Jonah and the whale in the preceding chapter. Now -some Nantucketers rather distrust this historical story of Jonah and the -whale. But then there were some sceptical Greeks and Romans, who, standing -out from the orthodox pagans of their times, equally doubted the story of -Hercules and the whale, and Arion and the dolphin -and yet their doubting those traditions did not make those traditions one -whit the less facts, for all that. One old SagHarbor whaleman's chief reason -for questioning the Hebrew story was this He had one of those quaint -oldfashioned Bibles, embellished with curious, unscientific plates one of -which represented Jonah's whale with two spouts in his head a peculiarity -only true with respect to a species of the Leviathan the Right Whale, and -the varieties of that order, concerning which the fishermen have this saying, -A penny roll would choke him his swallow is so very small. But, to this, -Bishop Jebb's anticipative answer is ready. It is not necessary, hints the -Bishop, that we consider Jonah as tombed in the whale's belly, but as -temporarily lodged in some part of his mouth. And this seems reasonable -enough in the good Bishop. For truly, the Right Whale's mouth would -accommodate a couple of whist tables, and comfortably seat all the players. -Possibly, too, Jonah might have ensconced himself in a hollow tooth but, on -second thoughts, the Right Whale is toothless. Another reason which -SagHarbor he went by that name urged for his want of faith in this matter -of the prophet, was something obscurely in reference to his incarcerated body -and the whale's gastric juices. But this objection likewise falls to the -ground, because a German exegetist supposes that Jonah must have taken refuge -in the floating body of a dead whale even as the French soldiers in the -Russian campaign turned their dead horses into tents, and crawled into them. -Besides, it has been divined by other continental commentators, that when -Jonah was thrown overboard from the Joppa ship, he straightway effected his -escape to another vessel near by, some vessel with a whale for a figurehead -and, I would add, possibly called The Whale, as some craft are nowadays -christened the Shark, the Gull, the Eagle. Nor have there been wanting -learned exegetists who have opined that the whale mentioned in the book of -Jonah merely meant a lifepreserver an inflated bag of wind which the -endangered prophet swam to, and so was saved from a watery doom. Poor -SagHarbor, therefore, seems worsted all round. But he had still another -reason for his want of faith. It was this, if I remember right Jonah was -swallowed by the whale in the Mediterranean Sea, and after three days he was -vomited up somewhere within three days' journey of Nineveh, a city on the -Tigris, very much more than three days' journey across from the nearest point -of the Mediterranean coast. How is that? But was there no other way for the -whale to land the prophet within that short distance of Nineveh? Yes. He -might have carried him round by the way of the Cape of Good Hope. But not to -speak of the passage through the whole length of the Mediterranean, and -another passage up the Persian Gulf and Red Sea, such a supposition would -involve the complete circumnavigation of all Africa in three days, not to -speak of the Tigris waters, near the site of Nineveh, being too shallow for -any whale to swim in. Besides, this idea of Jonah's weathering the Cape of -Good Hope at so early a day would wrest the honor of the discovery of that -great headland from Bartholomew Diaz, its reputed discoverer, and so make -modern history a liar. But all these foolish arguments of old SagHarbor only -evinced his foolish pride of reason a thing still more reprehensible in -him, seeing that he had but little learning except what he had picked up from -the sun and the sea. I say it only shows his foolish, impious pride, and -abominable, devilish rebellion against the reverend clergy. For by a -Portuguese Catholic priest, this very idea of Jonah's going to Nineveh via -the Cape of Good Hope was advanced as a signal magnification of the general -miracle. And so it was. Besides, to this day, the highly enlightened Turks -devoutly believe in the historical story of Jonah. And some three centuries -ago, an English traveller in old Harris's Voyages, speaks of a Turkish -Mosque built in honor of Jonah, in which mosque was a miraculous lamp that -burnt without any oil. -To make them run easily and swiftly, -the axles of carriages are anointed and for much the same purpose, some -whalers perform an analogous operation upon their boat they grease the -bottom. Nor is it to be doubted that as such a procedure can do no harm, it -may possibly be of no contemptible advantage considering that oil and water -are hostile that oil is a sliding thing, and that the object in view is to -make the boat slide bravely. Queequeg believed strongly in anointing his -boat, and one morning not long after the German ship Jungfrau disappeared, -took more than customary pains in that occupation crawling under its bottom, -where it hung over the side, and rubbing in the unctuousness as though -diligently seeking to insure a crop of hair from the craft's bald keel. He -seemed to be working in obedience to some particular presentiment. Nor did -it remain unwarranted by the event. Towards noon whales were raised but so -soon as the ship sailed down to them, they turned and fled with swift -precipitancy a disordered flight, as of Cleopatra's barges from Actium. -Nevertheless, the boats pursued, and Stubb's was foremost. By great exertion, -Tashtego at last succeeded in planting one iron but the stricken whale, -without at all sounding, still continued his horizontal flight, with added -fleetness. Such unintermitted strainings upon the planted iron must sooner or -later inevitably extract it. It became imperative to lance the flying whale, -or be content to lose him. But to haul the boat up to his flank was -impossible, he swam so fast and furious. What then remained? Of all the -wondrous devices and dexterities, the sleights of hand and countless -subtleties, to which the veteran whaleman is so often forced, none exceed -that fine manoeuvre with the lance called pitchpoling. Small sword, or broad -sword, in all its -exercises boasts nothing like it. It is only indispensable with an inveterate -running whale its grand fact and feature is the wonderful distance to which -the long lance is accurately darted from a violently rocking, jerking boat, -under extreme headway. Steel and wood included, the entire spear is some ten -or twelve feet in length the staff is much slighter than that of the -harpoon, and also of a lighter materialpine. It is furnished with a small -rope called a warp, of considerable length, by which it can be hauled back to -the hand after darting. But before going further, it is important to mention -here, that though the harpoon may be pitchpoled in the same way with the -lance, yet it is seldom done and when done, is still less frequently -successful, on account of the greater weight and inferior length of the -harpoon as compared with the lance, which in effect become serious drawbacks. -As a general thing, therefore, you must first get fast to a whale, before any -pitchpoling comes into play. Look now at Stubb a man who from his humorous, -deliberate coolness and equanimity in the direst emergencies, was specially -qualified to excel in pitchpoling. Look at him he stands upright in the -tossed bow of the flying boat wrapt in fleecy foam, the towing whale is -forty feet ahead. Handling the long lance lightly, glancing twice or thrice -along its length to see if it be exactly straight, Stubb whistlingly gathers -up the coil of the warp in one hand, so as to secure its free end in his -grasp, leaving the rest unobstructed. Then holding the lance full before -his waistband's middle, he levels it at the whale when, covering him with -it, he steadily depresses the buttend in his hand, thereby elevating the -point till the weapon stands fairly balanced upon his palm, fifteen feet in -the air. He minds you somewhat of a juggler, balancing a long staff on his -chin. Next moment with a rapid, nameless impulse, in a superb lofty arch the -bright steel spans the foaming distance, and quivers in the life spot of the -whale. Instead of sparkling water, he now spouts red blood. That drove the -spigot out of him cries Stubb. 'Tis July's immortal Fourth all fountains -must run wine today Would now, it were old Orleans whiskey, or old Ohio, -or unspeakable -old Monongahela Then, Tashtego, lad, I'd have ye hold a canakin to the jet, -and we'd drink round it Yea, verily, hearts alive, we'd brew choice punch -in the spread of his spouthole there, and from that live punchbowl quaff -the living stuff Again and again to such gamesome talk, the dexterous dart -is repeated, the spear returning to its master like a greyhound held in -skilful leash. The agonized whale goes into his flurry the towline is -slackened, and the pitchpoler dropping astern, folds his hands, and mutely -watches the monster die. -That for six thousand years and no one -knows how many millions of ages before the great whales should have been -spouting all over the sea, and sprinkling and mistifying the gardens of the -deep, as with so many sprinkling or mistifying pots and that for some -centuries back, thousands of hunters should have been close by the fountain -of the whale, watching these sprinklings and spoutings that all this should -be, and yet, that down to this blessed minute fifteen and a quarter -minutes past one o'clock P. M. of this sixteenth day of December, A. D. -it should still remain a problem, whether these spoutings are, after all, -really water, or nothing but vapor this is surely a noteworthy thing. Let -us, then, look at this matter, along with some interesting items contingent. -Every one knows that by the peculiar cunning of their gills, the finny tribes -in general breathe the air which at all times is combined with the element in -which they swim, hence, a herring or a cod might live a century, and never -once raise its head above the surface. But owing to his marked internal -structure which gives him regular lungs, like a human being's, the whale can -only live by inhaling the disengaged air in the open atmosphere. Wherefore -the necessity -for his periodical visits to the upper world. But he cannot in any degree -breathe through his mouth, for, in his ordinary attitude, the Sperm Whale's -mouth is buried at least eight feet beneath the surface and what is still -more, his windpipe has no connexion with his mouth. No, he breathes through -his spiracle alone and this is on the top of his head. If I say, that in -any creature breathing is only a function indispensable to vitality, inasmuch -as it withdraws from the air a certain element, which being subsequently -brought into contact with the blood imparts to the blood its vivifying -principle, I do not think I shall err though I may possibly use some -superfluous scientific words. Assume it, and it follows that if all the -blood in a man could be aerated with one breath, he might then seal up his -nostrils and not fetch another for a considerable time. That is to say, he -would then live without breathing. Anomalous as it may seem, this is -precisely the case with the whale, who systematically lives, by intervals, -his full hour and more when at the bottom without drawing a single -breath, or so much as in any way inhaling a particle of air for, remember, -he has no gills. How is this? Between his ribs and on each side of his spine -he is supplied with a remarkable involved Cretan labyrinth of vermicellilike -vessels, which vessels, when he quits the surface, are completely distended -with oxygenated blood. So that for an hour or more, a thousand fathoms in the -sea, he carries a surplus stock of vitality in him, just as the camel -crossing the waterless desert carries a surplus supply of drink for future use -in its four supplementary stomachs. The anatomical fact of this labyrinth -is indisputable and that the supposition founded upon it is reasonable and -true, seems the more cogent to me, when I consider the otherwise inexplicable -obstinacy of that leviathan in having his spoutings out, as the fishermen -phrase it. This is what I mean. If unmolested, upon rising to the surface, -the Sperm Whale will continue there for a period of time exactly uniform with -all his other unmolested risings. Say he stays eleven minutes, and jets -seventy times, that is, respires seventy breaths then whenever he rises -again, he will be sure to have his seventy breaths over again, to a minute. -Now, if after he fetches a few -breaths you alarm him, so that he sounds, he will be always dodging up again -to make good his regular allowance of air. And not till those seventy breaths -are told, will he finally go down to stay out his full term below. Remark, -however, that in different individuals these rates are different but in any -one they are alike. Now, why should the whale thus insist upon having his -spoutings out, unless it be to replenish his reservoir of air, ere -descending for good? How obvious is it, too, that this necessity for the -whale's rising exposes him to all the fatal hazards of the chase. For not by -hook or by net could this vast leviathan be caught, when sailing a thousand -fathoms beneath the sunlight. Not so much thy skill, then, O hunter, as the -great necessities that strike the victory to thee In man, breathing is -incessantly going on one breath only serving for two or three pulsations so -that whatever other business he has to attend to, waking or sleeping, -breathe he must, or die he will. But the Sperm Whale only breathes about one -seventh or Sunday of his time. It has been said that the whale only breathes -through his spouthole if it could truthfully be added that his spouts are -mixed with water, then I opine we should be furnished with the reason why his -sense of smell seems obliterated in him for the only thing about him that at -all answers to his nose is that identical spouthole and being so clogged -with two elements, it could not be expected to have the power of smelling. -But owing to the mystery of the spout whether it be water or whether it be -vapor no absolute certainty can as yet be arrived at on this head. Sure it -is, nevertheless, that the Sperm Whale has no proper olfactories. But what -does he want of them? No roses, no violets, no Colognewater in the sea. -Furthermore, as his windpipe solely opens into the tube of his spouting canal, -and as that long canal like the grand Erie Canal is furnished with a sort -of locks that open and shut for the downward retention of air or the -upward exclusion of water, therefore the whale has no voice unless you -insult him by saying, that when he so strangely rumbles, he talks through -his nose. But then again, what has the whale to say? Seldom have I known -any profound being that had anything to say to this -world, unless forced to stammer out something by way of getting a living. -Oh happy that the world is such an excellent listener Now, the spouting -canal of the Sperm Whale, chiefly intended as it is for the conveyance of air, -and for several feet laid along, horizontally, just beneath the upper -surface of his head, and a little to one side this curious canal is very -much like a gaspipe laid down in a city on one side of a street. But the -question returns whether this gaspipe is also a waterpipe in other words, -whether the spout of the Sperm Whale is the mere vapor of the exhaled breath, -or whether that exhaled breath is mixed with water taken in at the mouth, -and discharged through the spiracle. It is certain that the mouth indirectly -communicates with the spouting canal but it cannot be proved that this is -for the purpose of discharging water through the spiracle. Because the -greatest necessity for so doing would seem to be, when in feeding he -accidentally takes in water. But the Sperm Whale's food is far beneath the -surface, and there he cannot spout even if he would. Besides, if you regard -him very closely, and time him with your watch, you will find that when -unmolested, there is an undeviating rhyme between the periods of his jets and -the ordinary periods of respiration. But why pester one with all this -reasoning on the subject? Speak out You have seen him spout then declare -what the spout is can you not tell water from air? My dear sir, in this -world it is not so easy to settle these plain things. I have ever found your -plain things the knottiest of all. And as for this whale spout, you might -almost stand in it, and yet be undecided as to what it is precisely. The -central body of it is hidden in the snowy sparkling mist enveloping it and -how can you certainly tell whether any water falls from it, when, always, -when you are close enough to a whale to get a close view of his spout, he is -in a prodigious commotion, the water cascading all around him. And if at -such times you should think that you really perceived drops of moisture in -the spout, how do you know that they are not merely condensed from its vapor -or how do you know that they are not those identical drops superficially -lodged in the spouthole fissure, which is countersunk into the summit of the -whale's head? For even when tranquilly swimming through the midday -sea in a calm, with his elevated hump sundried as a dromedary's in the -desert even then, the whale always carries a small basin of water on his -head, as under a blazing sun you will sometimes see a cavity in a rock filled -up with rain. Nor is it at all prudent for the hunter to be over curious -touching the precise nature of the whale spout. It will not do for him to be -peering into it, and putting his face in it. You cannot go with your pitcher -to this fountain and fill it, and bring it away. For even when coming into -slight contact with the outer, vapory shreds of the jet, which will often -happen, your skin will feverishly smart, from the acridness of the thing so -touching it. And I know one, who coming into still closer contact with the -spout, whether with some scientific object in view, or otherwise, I cannot -say, the skin peeled off from his cheek and arm. Wherefore, among whalemen, -the spout is deemed poisonous they try to evade it. Another thing I have -heard it said, and I do not much doubt it, that if the jet is fairly spouted -into your eyes, it will blind you. The wisest thing the investigator can do -then, it seems to me, is to let this deadly spout alone. Still, we can -hypothesize, even if we cannot prove and establish. My hypothesis is this -that the spout is nothing but mist. And besides other reasons, to this -conclusion I am impelled, by considerations touching the great inherent -dignity and sublimity of the Sperm Whale I account him no common, shallow -being, inasmuch as it is an undisputed fact that he is never found on -soundings, or near shores all other whales sometimes are. He is both -ponderous and profound. And I am convinced that from the heads of all -ponderous profound beings, such as Plato, Pyrrho, the Devil, Jupiter, Dante, -and so on, there always goes up a certain semivisible steam, while in the -act of thinking deep thoughts. While composing a little treatise on Eternity, -I had the curiosity to place a mirror before me and ere long saw reflected -there, a curious involved worming and undulation in the atmosphere over my -head. The invariable moisture of my hair, while plunged in deep thought, -after six cups of hot tea in my thin shingled attic, of an August noon this -seems an additional argument for the above supposition. And how nobly it -raises our conceit of the mighty, misty -monster, to behold him solemnly sailing through a calm tropical sea his -vast, mild head overhung by a canopy of vapor, engendered by his -incommunicable contemplations, and that vapor as you will sometimes see it -glorified by a rainbow, as if Heaven itself had put its seal upon his -thoughts. For, d'ye see, rainbows do not visit the clear air they only -irradiate vapor. And so, through all the thick mists of the dim doubts in my -mind, divine intuitions now and then shoot, enkindling my fog with a -heavenly ray. And for this I thank God for all have doubts many deny -but doubts or denials, few along with them, have intuitions. Doubts of all -things earthly, and intuitions of some things heavenly this combination -makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them both -with equal eye. -Other poets have warbled the praises of -the soft eye of the antelope, and the lovely plumage of the bird that never -alights less celestial, I celebrate a tail. Reckoning the largest sized -Sperm Whale's tail to begin at that point of the trunk where it tapers to -about the girth of a man, it comprises upon its upper surface alone, an area -of at least fifty square feet. The compact round body of its root expands -into two broad, firm, flat palms or flukes, gradually shoaling away to less -than an inch in thickness. At the crotch or junction, these flukes slightly -overlap, then sideways recede from each other like wings, leaving a wide -vacancy between. In no living thing are the lines of beauty more exquisitely -defined than in the crescentic borders of these flukes. At its utmost -expansion in the full grown whale, the tail will considerably exceed twenty -feet across. The entire member seems a dense webbed bed of welded -sinews but cut into it, and you find that three distinct strata compose it -upper, middle, and lower. The fibres in the upper and lower layers, are long -and horizontal those of the middle one, very short, and running crosswise -between the outside layers. This triune structure, as much as anything else, -imparts power to the tail. To the student of old Roman walls, the middle -layer will furnish a curious parallel to the thin course of tiles always -alternating with the stone in those wonderful relics of the antique, and -which undoubtedly contribute so much to the great strength of the masonry. -But as if this vast local power in the tendinous tail were not enough, the -whole bulk of the leviathan is knit over with a warp and woof of muscular -fibres and filaments, which passing on either side the loins and running down -into the flukes, insensibly blend with them, and largely contribute to their -might so that in the tail the confluent measureless force of the whole -whale seems concentrated to a point. Could annihilation occur to matter, this -were the thing to do it. Nor does this its amazing strength, at all tend to -cripple the graceful flexion of its motions where infantileness of ease -undulates through a Titanism of power. On the contrary, those motions derive -their most appalling beauty from it. Real strength never impairs beauty or -harmony, but it often bestows it and in everything imposingly beautiful, -strength has much to do with the magic. Take away the tied tendons that all -over seem bursting from the marble in the carved Hercules, and its charm -would be gone. As devout Eckerman lifted the linen sheet from the naked -corpse of Goethe, he was overwhelmed with the massive chest of the man, that -seemed as a Roman triumphal arch. When Angelo paints even God the Father in -human form, mark what robustness is there. And whatever they may reveal of -the divine love in the Son, the soft, curled, hermaphroditical Italian -pictures, in which his idea has been most successfully embodied these -pictures, so destitute as they are of all brawniness, hint nothing of any -power, but the mere negative, feminine one of submission and endurance, -which on all hands it is conceded, form the peculiar practical virtues of his -teachings. Such is the subtle elasticity of the organ I treat of, that -whether wielded in sport, or in earnest, or in anger, whatever be the mood it -be in, its flexions are invariably marked by exceeding grace. Therein no -fairy's arm can transcend it. Five great motions are peculiar to it. First, -when used as a fin for progression Second, when used as a mace in battle -Third, in sweeping Fourth, in lobtailing Fifth, in peaking flukes. First -Being horizontal in its position, the Leviathan's tail acts in a different -manner from the tails of all other sea creatures. It never wriggles. In man -or fish, wriggling is a sign of inferiority. To the whale, his tail is the -sole means of propulsion. Scrollwise coiled forwards beneath the body, and -then rapidly sprung backwards, it is this which gives that singular darting, -leaping motion to the monster when furiously swimming. His sidefins only -serve to steer by. Second It is a little significant, that while one sperm -whale only fights another sperm whale with his head and jaw, nevertheless, -in his conflicts with man, he chiefly and contemptuously uses his tail. In -striking at a boat, he swiftly curves away his flukes from it, and the blow -is only inflicted by the recoil. If it be made in the unobstructed air, -especially if it descend to its mark, the stroke is then simply irresistible. -No ribs of man or boat can withstand it. Your only salvation lies in eluding -it but if it comes sideways through the opposing water, then partly owing -to the light buoyancy of the whaleboat, and the elasticity of its materials, -a cracked rib or a dashed plank or two, a sort of stitch in the side, is -generally the most serious result. These submerged side blows are so often -received in the fishery, that they are accounted mere child's play. Some one -strips off a frock, and the hole is stopped. Third I cannot demonstrate it, -but it seems to me, that in the whale the sense of touch is concentrated in -the tail for in this respect there is a delicacy in it only equalled by the -daintiness of the elephant's trunk. This delicacy is chiefly evinced in the -action of sweeping, when in maidenly gentleness the whale with a certain soft -slowness moves his immense flukes from side to side upon the surface of the -sea and if he feel but a sailor's whisker, woe to that sailor, whiskers and -all. -What tenderness there is in that preliminary touch Had this tail any -prehensile power, I should straightway bethink me of Darmonodes' elephant -that so frequented the flowermarket, and with low salutations presented -nosegays to damsels, and then caressed their zones. On more accounts than -one, a pity it is that the whale does not possess this prehensile virtue in -his tail for I have heard of yet another elephant, that when wounded in -the fight, curved round his trunk and extracted the dart. Fourth Stealing -unawares upon the whale in the fancied security of the middle of solitary -seas, you find him unbent from the vast corpulence of his dignity, and -kittenlike, he plays on the ocean as if it were a hearth. But still you see -his power in his play. The broad palms of his tail are flirted high into the -air then smiting the surface, the thunderous concussion resounds for miles. -You would almost think a great gun had been discharged and if you noticed -the light wreath of vapor from the spiracle at his other extremity, you would -think that that was the smoke from the touchhole. Fifth As in the ordinary -floating posture of the leviathan the flukes lie considerably below the level -of his back, they are then completely out of sight beneath the surface but -when he is about to plunge into the deeps, his entire flukes with at least -thirty feet of his body are tossed erect in the air, and so remain vibrating -a moment, till they downwards shoot out of view. Excepting the sublime -breach somewhere else to be described this peaking of the whale's flukes is -perhaps the grandest sight to be seen in all animated nature. Out of the -bottomless profundities the gigantic tail seems spasmodically snatching at the -highest heaven. So in dreams, have I seen majestic Satan thrusting forth his -tormented colossal claw from the flame Baltic of Hell. But in gazing at such -scenes, it is all in all what mood you are in if in the Dantean, the devils -will occur to you if in that of Isaiah, the archangels. Standing at the -masthead of my ship during a sunrise that crimsoned sky and sea, I once saw -a large herd of whales in the east, all heading towards the sun, and for a -moment vibrating in concert with peaked flukes. As it seemed to me at the -time, such a grand -embodiment of adoration of the gods was never beheld, even in Persia, the -home of the fire worshippers. As Ptolemy Philopater testified of the African -elephant, I then testified of the whale, pronouncing him the most devout of -all beings. For according to King Juba, the military elephants of antiquity -often hailed the morning with their trunks uplifted in the profoundest -silence. The chance comparison in this chapter, between the whale and the -elephant, so far as some aspects of the tail of the one and the trunk of the -other are concerned, should not tend to place those two opposite organs on an -equality, much less the creatures to which they respectively belong. For as -the mightiest elephant is but a terrier to Leviathan, so, compared with -Leviathan's tail, his trunk is but the stalk of a lily. The most direful -blow from the elephant's trunk were as the playful tap of a fan, compared with -the measureless crush and crash of the sperm whale's ponderous flukes, which -in repeated instances have one after the other hurled entire boats with all -their oars and crews into the air, very much as an Indian juggler tosses his -balls. The more I consider this mighty tail, the more do I deplore my -inability to express it. At times there are gestures in it, which, though -they would well grace the hand of man, remain wholly inexplicable. In an -extensive herd, so remarkable, occasionally, are these mystic gestures, -that I have heard hunters who have declared them akin to FreeMason signs and -symbols that the whale, indeed, by these methods intelligently conversed -with the world. Nor are there wanting other motions of the whale in his -general body, full of strangeness, and unaccountable to his most experienced -assailant. Dissect him how I may, then, I but go skin deep I know him not, -and never will. But if I know not even the tail of this whale, how -understand his head? much more, how comprehend his face, when face he has -none? -Thou shalt see my back parts, my tail, he seems to say, but my face shall not -be seen. But I cannot completely make out his back parts and hint what he -will about his face, I say again he has no face. -Though all comparison in the way of general bulk between the whale and the -elephant is preposterous, inasmuch as in that particular the elephant -stands in much the same respect to the whale that a dog does to the elephant -nevertheless, there are not wanting some points of curious similitude among -these is the spout. It is well known that the elephant will often draw up -water or dust in his trunk, and then elevating it, jet it forth in a -stream. -The long and narrow peninsula of -Malacca, extending southeastward from the territories of Birmah, forms the -most southerly point of all Asia. In a continuous line from that peninsula -stretch the long islands of Sumatra, Java, Bally, and Timor which, with many -others, form a vast mole, or rampart, lengthwise connecting Asia with -Australia, and dividing the long unbroken Indian ocean from the thickly -studded oriental archipelagoes. This rampart is pierced by several sallyports -for the convenience of ships and whales conspicuous among which are the -straits of Sunda and Malacca. By the straits of Sunda, chiefly, vessels -bound to China from the west, emerge into the China seas. Those narrow straits -of Sunda divide Sumatra from Java and standing midway in that vast rampart -of islands, buttressed by that bold green promontory, known to seamen as -Java Head they not a little correspond to the central gateway opening into -some vast walled empire and considering the inexhaustible wealth of spices, -and silks, and jewels, and gold, and ivory, with which the thousand islands of -that oriental sea are enriched, it seems a significant provision of nature, -that such treasures, by the very formation of the land, should at least bear -the appearance, however ineffectual, of being guarded from the allgrasping -western world. The shores of the Straits of Sunda are unsupplied with those -domineering fortresses which guard the entrances to the Mediterranean, the -Baltic, and the Propontis. Unlike the Danes, these Orientals do not demand the -obsequious homage of lowered topsails from the endless procession of ships -before the wind, which for centuries past, by night and by day, have passed -between the islands of Sumatra and Java, freighted with the costliest cargoes -of the east. But while they freely waive a ceremonial like this, they do by -no means renounce their claim to more solid tribute. Time out of mind the -piratical proas of the Malays, lurking among the low shaded coves and islets -of Sumatra, have sallied out upon the vessels sailing through the straits, -fiercely demanding tribute at the point of their spears. Though by the -repeated bloody chastisements they have received at the hands of European -cruisers, the audacity of these corsairs has of late been somewhat repressed -yet, even at the present day, we occasionally hear of English and American -vessels, which, in those waters, have been remorselessly boarded and pillaged. -With a fair, fresh wind, the Pequod was now drawing nigh to these straits -Ahab purposing to pass through them into the Javan sea, and thence, cruising -northwards, over waters known to be frequented here and there by the Sperm -whale, sweep inshore by the Philippine Islands, and gain the far coast of -Japan, in time for the great whaling season there. By these means, the -circumnavigating Pequod would sweep almost all the known Sperm Whale cruising -grounds of the world, previous to descending upon the Line in the Pacific -where Ahab, though everywhere else foiled in his pursuit, firmly counted upon -giving battle to Moby Dick, in the sea he was most known to frequent and at -a season when he might most reasonably be presumed to be haunting it. But how -now? in this zoned quest, does Ahab touch no land? does his crew drink air? -Surely, he will stop for water. Nay. For a long time, now, the circusrunning -sun has raced within his fiery ring, and needs no sustenance but what's in -himself. So Ahab. Mark this, too, in the whaler. While other hulls are -loaded down with alien stuff, to be transferred to foreign wharves the -worldwandering whaleship carries no cargo but herself and crew, their -weapons and their wants. She has a whole lake's contents bottled in her ample -hold. She is ballasted with utilities not altogether with unusable piglead -and kentledge. She carries years' water in her. Clear old prime Nantucket -water which, when three years afloat, the Nantucketer, -in the Pacific, prefers to drink before the brackish fluid, but yesterday -rafted off in casks, from the Peruvian or Indian streams. Hence it is, that, -while other ships may have gone to China from New York, and back again, -touching at a score of ports, the whaleship, in all that interval, may not -have sighted one grain of soil her crew having seen no man but floating -seamen like themselves. So that did you carry them the news that another -flood had come they would only answer Well, boys, here's the ark Now, -as many Sperm Whales had been captured off the western coast of Java, in the -near vicinity of the straits of Sunda indeed, as most of the ground, -roundabout, was generally recognised by the fishermen as an excellent spot for -cruising therefore, as the Pequod gained more and more upon Java Head, the -lookouts were repeatedly hailed, and admonished to keep wide awake. But -though the green palmy cliffs of the land soon loomed on the starboard bow, -and with delighted nostrils the fresh cinnamon was snuffed in the air, yet -not a single jet was descried. Almost renouncing all thought of falling in -with any game hereabouts, the ship had well nigh entered the straits, when -the customary cheering cry was heard from aloft, and ere long a spectacle of -singular magnificence saluted us. But here be it premised, that owing to the -unwearied activity with which of late they have been hunted over all four -oceans, the Sperm Whales, instead of almost invariably sailing in small -detached companies, as in former times, are now frequently met with in -extensive herds, sometimes embracing so great a multitude, that it would -almost seem as if numerous nations of them had sworn solemn league and -covenant for mutual assistance and protection. To this aggregation of the -Sperm Whale into such immense caravans, may be imputed the circumstance that -even in the best cruising grounds, you may now sometimes sail for weeks and -months together, without being greeted by a single spout and then be -suddenly saluted by what sometimes seems thousands on thousands. Broad on -both bows, at the distance of some two or three miles, and forming a great -semicircle, embracing one half of the level horizon, a continuous chain of -whalejets were upplaying and sparkling in the noonday air. Unlike the -straight perpendicular -twinjets of the Right Whale, which, dividing at top, falls over in two -branches, like the cleft drooping boughs of a willow, the single -forwardslanting spout of the Sperm Whale presents a thick curled bush of -white mist, continually rising and falling away to leeward. Seen from the -Pequod's deck, then, as she would rise on a high hill of the sea, this host -of vapory spouts, individually curling up into the air, and beheld through a -blending atmosphere of bluish haze, showed like the thousand cheerful chimneys -of some dense metropolis, descried of a balmy autumnal morning, by some -horseman on a height. As marching armies approaching an unfriendly defile in -the mountains, accelerate their march, all eagerness to place that perilous -passage in their rear, and once more expand in comparative security upon the -plain even so did this vast fleet of whales now seem hurrying forward -through the straits gradually contracting the wings of their semicircle, -and swimming on, in one solid, but still crescentic centre. Crowding all sail -the Pequod pressed after them the harpooneers handling their weapons, and -loudly cheering from the heads of their yet suspended boats. If the wind only -held, little doubt had they, that chased through these Straits of Sunda, -the vast host would only deploy into the Oriental seas to witness the capture -of not a few of their number. And who could tell whether, in that congregated -caravan, Moby Dick himself might not temporarily be swimming, like the -worshipped whiteelephant in the coronation procession of the Siamese So -with stunsail piled on stunsail, we sailed along, driving these -leviathans before us when, of a sudden, the voice of Tashtego was heard, -loudly directing attention to something in our wake. Corresponding to the -crescent in our van, we beheld another in our rear. It seemed formed of -detached white vapors, rising and falling something like the spouts of the -whales only they did not so completely come and go for they constantly -hovered, without finally disappearing. Levelling his glass at this sight, -ahab quickly revolved in his pivothole, crying, aloft there, and rig whips -and buckets to wet the sails Malays, sir, and after us -As if too long lurking behind the headlands, till the Pequod should fairly -have entered the straits, these rascally Asiatics were now in hot pursuit, to -make up for their overcautious delay. But when the swift Pequod, with a fresh -leading wind, was herself in hot chase how very kind of these tawny -philanthropists to assist in speeding her on to her own chosen pursuit, -mere ridingwhips and rowels to her, that they were. As with glass under arm, -Ahab toandfro paced the deck in his forward turn beholding the monsters he -chased, and in the after one the bloodthirsty pirates chasing him some -such fancy as the above seemed his. And when he glanced upon the green walls -of the watery defile in which the ship was then sailing, and bethought him -that through that gate lay the route to his vengeance, and beheld, how that -through that same gate he was now both chasing and being chased to his deadly -end and not only that, but a herd of remorseless wild pirates and inhuman -atheistical devils were infernally cheering him on with their curses when -all these conceits had passed through his brain, Ahab's brow was left gaunt -and ribbed, like the black sand beach after some stormy tide has been gnawing -it, without being able to drag the firm thing from its place. But thoughts -like these troubled very few of the reckless crew and when, after steadily -dropping and dropping the pirates astern, the Pequod at last shot by the -vivid green Cockatoo Point on the Sumatra side, emerging at last upon the -broad waters beyond then, the harpooneers seemed more to grieve that the -swift whales had been gaining upon the ship, than to rejoice that the ship -had so victoriously gained upon the Malays. But still driving on in the wake -of the whales, at length they seemed abating their speed gradually the ship -neared them and the wind now dying away, word was passed to spring to the -boats. But no sooner did the herd, by some presumed wonderful instinct of -the Sperm Whale, become notified of the three keels that were after them, -though as yet a mile in their rear, than they rallied again, and forming in -close ranks and battalions, so that their spouts all looked like flashing -lines of stacked bayonets, moved on with redoubled velocity. Stripped to our -shirts and drawers, we sprang to the whiteash, -and after several hours' pulling were almost disposed to renounce the chase, -when a general pausing commotion among the whales gave animating token that -they were now at last under the influence of that strange perplexity of inert -irresolution, which, when the fishermen perceive it in the whale, they say he -is gallied. The compact martial columns in which they had been hitherto -rapidly and steadily swimming, were now broken up in one measureless rout -and like King Porus' elephants in the Indian battle with Alexander, they -seemed going mad with consternation. In all directions expanding in vast -irregular circles, and aimlessly swimming hither and thither, by their short -thick spoutings, they plainly betrayed their distraction of panic. This -was still more strangely evinced by those of their number, who, completely -paralysed as it were, helplessly floated like waterlogged dismantled ships on -the sea. Had these leviathans been but a flock of simple sheep, pursued over -the pasture by three fierce wolves, they could not possibly have evinced such -excessive dismay. But this occasional timidity is characteristic of almost -all herding creatures. Though banding together in tens of thousands, the -lionmaned buffaloes of the West have fled before a solitary horseman. -Witness, too, all human beings, how when herded together in the sheepfold of -a theatre's pit, they will, at the slightest alarm of fire, rush -helterskelter for the outlets, crowding, trampling, jamming, and -remorselessly dashing each other to death. Best, therefore, withhold -any amazement at the strangely gallied whales before us, for there is no folly -of the beasts of the earth which is not infinitely outdone by the madness of -men. Though many of the whales, as has been said, were in violent motion, -yet it is to be observed that as a whole the herd neither advanced nor -retreated, but collectively remained in one place. As is customary in those -cases, the boats at once separated, each making for some one lone whale on -the outskirts of the shoal. In about three minutes' time, Queequeg's harpoon -was flung the stricken fish darted blinding spray in our faces, and then -running away with us like light, steered straight for the heart of the herd. -Though such a movement on the part of the whale struck under such -circumstances, is in no wise unprecedented and indeed is almost always more -or less anticipated yet does it present one of the more perilous vicissitudes -of the fishery. For as the swift monster drags you deeper and deeper into -the frantic shoal, you bid adieu to circumspect life and only exist in a -delirious throb. As, blind and deaf, the whale plunged forward, as if by sheer -power of speed to rid himself of the iron leech that had fastened to him as -we thus tore a white gash in the sea, on all sides menaced as we flew, by -the crazed creatures to and fro rushing about us our beset boat was like a -ship mobbed by iceisles in a tempest, and striving to steer through their -complicated channels and straits, knowing not at what moment it may be -locked in and crushed. But not a bit daunted, Queequeg steered us manfully -now sheering off from this monster directly across our route in advance now -edging away from that, whose colossal flukes were suspended overhead, while -all the time, Starbuck stood up in the bows, lance in hand, pricking out of -our way whatever whales he could reach by short darts, for there was no time -to make long ones. Nor were the oarsmen quite idle, though their wonted -duty was now altogether dispensed with. They chiefly attended to the shouting -part of the business. Out of the way, Commodore cried one, to a great -dromedary that of a sudden rose bodily to the surface, and for an instant -threatened to swamp us. Hard down with your tail, there cried a second -to another, which, close to our gunwale, seemed calmly cooling himself with -his own fanlike extremity. All whaleboats carry certain curious contrivances, -originally invented by the Nantucket Indians, called druggs. Two thick -squares of wood of equal size are stoutly clenched together, so that they -cross each other's grain at right angles a line of considerable length is -then attached to the middle of this block, and the other end of the line -being looped, it can in a moment be fastened to a harpoon. It is chiefly -among gallied whales that this drugg is used. For then, more whales are close -round you than you can possibly chase at one time. But sperm whales are not -every day encountered while you may, then, you must kill all you can. And -if you cannot kill them all at once, you must wing them, so that they can be -afterwards killed at your leisure. Hence it is, that at times like these the -drugg comes into requisition. Our boat was furnished with three of them. -The first and second were successfully darted, and we saw the whales -staggeringly running off, fettered by the enormous sidelong resistance of the -towing drugg. They were cramped like malefactors with the chain and ball. -But upon flinging the third, in the act of tossing overboard the clumsy -wooden block, it caught under one of the seats of the boat, and in an -instant tore it out and carried it away, dropping the oarsman in the boat's -bottom as the seat slid from under him. On both sides the sea came in at the -wounded planks, but we stuffed two or three drawers and shirts in, and so -stopped the leaks for the time. It had been next to impossible to dart these -druggedharpoons, were it not that as we advanced into the herd, our whale's -way greatly diminished moreover, that as we went still further and further -from the circumference of commotion, the direful disorders seemed waning. So -that when at last the jerking harpoon drew out, and the towing whale sideways -vanished then, with the tapering force of his parting momentum, we glided -between two whales into the innermost heart of the shoal, as if from some -mountain torrent we had slid into a serene valley lake. Here the storms in the -roaring glens between the outermost whales, were heard but not felt. In this -central expanse the sea presented that smooth satinlike surface, called a -sleek, produced -by the subtle moisture thrown off by the whale in his more quiet moods. Yes, -we were now in that enchanted calm which they say lurks at the heart of every -commotion. And still in the distracted distance we beheld the tumults of the -outer concentric circles, and saw successive pods of whales, eight or ten in -each, swiftly going round and round, like multiplied spans of horses in a -ring and so closely shoulder to shoulder, that a Titanic circusrider might -easily have overarched the middle ones, and so have gone round on their -backs. Owing to the density of the crowd of reposing whales, more -immediately surrounding the embayed axis of the herd, no possible chance of -escape was at present afforded us. We must watch for a breach in the living -wall that hemmed us in the wall that had only admitted us in order to shut -us up. Keeping at the centre of the lake, we were occasionally visited by -small tame cows and calves the women and children of this routed host. Now, -inclusive of the occasional wide intervals between the revolving outer -circles, and inclusive of the spaces between the various pods in any one of -those circles, the entire area at this juncture, embraced by the whole -multitude, must have contained at least two or three square miles. At any -rate though indeed such a test at such a time might be deceptive spoutings -might be discovered from our low boat that seemed playing up almost from the -rim of the horizon. I mention this circumstance, because, as if the cows and -calves had been purposely locked up in this innermost fold and as if the -wide extent of the herd had hitherto prevented them from learning the precise -cause of its stopping or, possibly, being so young, unsophisticated, and -every way innocent and inexperienced however it may have been, these -smaller whales now and then visiting our becalmed boat from the margin of the -lake evinced a wondrous fearlessness and confidence, or else a still -becharmed panic which it was impossible not to marvel at. Like household dogs -they came snuffling round us, right up to our gunwales, and touching them -till it almost seemed that some spell had suddenly domesticated them. -Queequeg patted their foreheads Starbuck scratched their backs with his -lance but fearful of the consequences, for the time refrained from darting -it. -But far beneath this wondrous world upon the surface, another and still -stranger world met our eyes as we gazed over the side. For, suspended in -those watery vaults, floated the forms of the nursing mothers of the whales, -and those that by their enormous girth seemed shortly to become mothers. The -lake, as I have hinted, was to a considerable depth exceedingly transparent -and as human infants while suckling will calmly and fixedly gaze away from the -breast, as if leading two different lives at the time and while yet drawing -mortal nourishment, be still spiritually feasting upon some unearthly -reminiscence even so did the young of these whales seem looking up towards -us, but not at us, as if we were but a bit of Gulfweed in their newborn -sight. floating on their sides, the mothers also seemed quietly eyeing us. -One of these little infants, that from certain queer tokens seemed hardly a -day old, might have measured some fourteen feet in length, and some six feet -in girth. He was a little frisky though as yet his body seemed scarce yet -recovered from that irksome position it had so lately occupied in the -maternal reticule where, tail to head, and all ready for the final spring, -the unborn whale lies bent like a Tartar's bow. The delicate sidefins, and -the palms of his flukes, still freshly retained the plaited crumpled -appearance of a baby's ears newly arrived from foreign parts. Line line -cried Queequeg, looking over the gunwale him fast him fast Who line -him Who struck? Two whale one big, one little What ails ye, man? -cried Starbuck. Looke here, said Queequeg pointing down. As when the -stricken whale, that from the tub has reeled out hundreds of fathoms of rope -as, after deep sounding, he floats up again, and shows the slackened curling -line buoyantly rising and spiralling towards the air so now, Starbuck saw -long coils of the umbilical cord of Madame Leviathan, by which the young cub -seemed still tethered to its dam. Not seldom in the rapid vicissitudes of the -chase, this natural line, with the maternal end loose, becomes entangled -with the hempen one, so that the cub is thereby trapped. Some of the -subtlest secrets of the seas -seemed divulged to us in this enchanted pond. We saw young Leviathan amours -in the deep. And thus, though surrounded by circle upon circle of -consternations and affrights, did these inscrutable creatures at the centre -freely and fearlessly indulge in all peaceful concernments yea, serenely -revelled in dalliance and delight. But even so, amid the tornadoed Atlantic -of my being, do I myself still for ever centrally disport in mute calm and -while ponderous planets of unwaning woe revolve round me, deep down and deep -inland there i still bathe me in eternal mildness of joy. Meanwhile, as we -thus lay entranced, the occasional sudden frantic spectacles in the distance -evinced the activity of the other boats, still engaged in drugging the whales -on the frontier of the host or possibly carrying on the war within the first -circle, where abundance of room and some convenient retreats were afforded -them. But the sight of the enraged drugged whales now and then blindly -darting to and fro across the circles, was nothing to what at last met our -eyes. It is sometimes the custom when fast to a whale more than commonly -powerful and alert, to seek to hamstring him, as it were, by sundering or -maiming his gigantic tailtendon. It is done by darting a shorthandled -cuttingspade, to which is attached a rope for hauling it back again. A -whale wounded as we afterwards learned in this part, but not effectually, -as it seemed, had broken away from the boat, carrying along with him half of -the harpoon line and in the extraordinary agony of the wound, he was now -dashing among the revolving circles like the lone mounted desperado -Arnold, at the battle of Saratoga, carrying dismay wherever he went. But -agonizing as was the wound of this whale, and an appalling spectacle enough, -any way yet the peculiar horror with which he seemed to inspire the rest of -the herd, was owing to a cause which at first the intervening distance -obscured from us. But at length we perceived that by one of the unimaginable -accidents of the fishery, this whale had become entangled in the harpoonline -that he towed he had also run away with the cuttingspade in him and while -the free end of the rope attached to that weapon, had permanently caught in -the coils of the harpoonline round his tail, the cuttingspade itself had -worked loose from his flesh. So that tormented to madness, he was now -churning through the water, violently flailing with his flexible tail, and -tossing the keen spade about him, wounding and murdering his own comrades. -this terrific object seemed to recall the whole herd from their stationary -fright. First, the whales forming the margin of our lake began to crowd a -little, and tumble against each other, as if lifted by half spent billows -from afar then the lake itself began faintly to heave and swell the -submarine bridalchambers and nurseries vanished in more and more -contracting orbits the whales in the more central circles began to swim in -thickening clusters. Yes, the long calm was departing. A low advancing hum -was soon heard and then like to the tumultuous masses of blockice when the -great river Hudson breaks up in Spring, the entire host of whales came -tumbling upon their inner centre, as if to pile themselves up in one common -mountain. Instantly Starbuck and Queequeg changed places Starbuck taking -the stern. Oars Oars he intensely whispered, seizing the helm gripe -your oars, and clutch your souls, now My God, men, stand by Shove him off, -you Queequeg the whale there prick him hit him Stand up stand up, and -stay so Spring, men pull, men never mind their backs scrape them -scrape away The boat was now all but jammed between two vast black bulks, -leaving a narrow Dardanelles between their long lengths. But by desperate -endeavor we at last shot into a temporary -opening then giving way rapidly, and at the same time earnestly watching -for another outlet. After many similar hairbreadth escapes, we at last -swiftly glided into what had just been one of the outer circles, but now -crossed by random whales, all violently making for one centre. This lucky -salvation was cheaply purchased by the loss of Queequeg's hat, who, while -standing in the bows to prick the fugitive whales, had his hat taken clean -from his head by the aireddy made by the sudden tossing of a pair of broad -flukes close by. Riotous and disordered as the universal commotion now was, -it soon resolved itself into what seemed a systematic movement for having -clumped together at last in one dense body, they then renewed their onward -flight with augmented fleetness. Further pursuit was useless but the boats -still lingered in their wake to pick up what drugged whales might be dropped -astern, and likewise to secure one which Flask had killed and waifed. The -waif is a pennoned pole, two or three of which are carried by every boat -and which, when additional game is at hand, are inserted upright into the -floating body of a dead whale, both to mark its place on the sea, and also -as token of prior possession, should the boats of any other ship draw near. -The result of this lowering was somewhat illustrative of that sagacious saying -in the Fishery, the more whales the less fish. Of all the drugged whales -only one was captured. The rest contrived to escape for the time, but only -to be taken, as will hereafter be seen, by some other craft than the Pequod. -To gally, or gallow, is to frighten excessively to confound with fright. -It is an old Saxon word. It occurs once in Shakespeare The wrathful skies -Gallow the very wanderers of the dark And make them keep their caves. To -common language, the word is now completely obsolete. When the polite -landsman first hears it from the gaunt Nantucketer, he is apt to set it -down as one of the whaleman's selfderived savageries. Much the same is it -with many other sinewy Saxonisms of this sort, which emigrated to -NewEngland rocks with the noble brawn of the old English emigrants in the -time of the Commonwealth. Thus, some of the best and furthestdescended -English words the etymological Howards and Percys are now democratised, nay, -plebeianised so to speak in the New World. -The sperm whale, as with all other species of the Leviathan, but unlike -most other fish, breeds indifferently at all seasons after a gestation -which may probably be set down at nine months, producing but one at a time -though in some few known instances giving birth to an Esau and Jacob a -contingency provided for in suckling by two teats, curiously situated, one -on each side of the anus but the breasts themselves extend upwards from -that. When by chance these precious parts in a nursing whale are cut by the -hunter's lance, the mother's pouring milk and blood rivallingly discolor -the sea for rods. The milk is very sweet and rich it has been tasted by -man it might do well with strawberries. When overflowing with mutual -esteem, the whales salute more hominum. -The previous chapter -gave account of an immense body or herd of Sperm Whales, and there was also -then given the probable cause inducing those vast aggregations. Now, though -such great bodies are at times encountered, yet, -as must have been seen, even at the present day, small detached bands are -occasionally observed, embracing from twenty to fifty individuals each. Such -bands are known as schools. They generally are of two sorts those composed -almost entirely of females, and those mustering none but young vigorous -males, or bulls, as they are familiarly designated. In cavalier attendance -upon the school of females, you invariably see a male of full grown magnitude, -but not old who, upon any alarm, evinces his gallantry by falling in the -rear and covering the flight of his ladies. In truth, this gentleman is a -luxurious Ottoman, swimming about over the watery world, surroundingly -accompanied by all the solaces and endearments of the harem. The contrast -between this Ottoman and his concubines is striking because, while he is -always of the largest leviathanic proportions, the ladies, even at full -growth, are not more than one third of the bulk of an averagesized male. -They are comparatively delicate, indeed I dare say, not to exceed half a -dozen yards round the waist. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied, that upon the -whole they are hereditarily entitled to en bon point. It is very curious -to watch this harem and its lord in their indolent ramblings. Like -fashionables, they are for ever on the move in leisurely search of variety. -You meet them on the Line in time for the full flower of the Equatorial -feeding season, having just returned, perhaps, from spending the summer in -the Northern seas, and so cheating summer of all unpleasant weariness and -warmth. By the time they have lounged up and down the promenade of the -Equator awhile, they start for the Oriental waters in anticipation of the -cool season there, and so evade the other excessive temperature of the year. -When serenely advancing on one of these journeys, if any strange suspicious -sights are seen, my lord whale keeps a wary eye on his interesting family. -Should any unwarrantably pert young Leviathan coming that way, presume to -draw confidentially close to one of the ladies, with what prodigious fury the -Bashaw assails him, and chases him away High times, indeed, if -unprincipled young rakes like him are to be permitted to invade the sanctity -of domestic bliss though do what the Bashaw will, he cannot keep the most -notorious Lothario out -of his bed for, alas all fish bed in common. As ashore, the ladies often -cause the most terrible duels among their rival admirers just so with the -whales, who sometimes come to deadly battle, and all for love. They fence -with their long lower jaws, sometimes locking them together, and so striving -for the supremacy like elks that warringly interweave their antlers. Not a -few are captured having the deep scars of these encounters, furrowed heads, -broken teeth, scolloped fins and in some instances, wrenched and dislocated -mouths. but supposing the invader of domestic bliss to betake himself away at -the first rush of the harem's lord, then is it very diverting to watch that -lord. Gently he insinuates his vast bulk among them again and revels there -awhile, still in tantalizing vicinity to young Lothario, like pious Solomon -devoutly worshipping among his thousand concubines. Granting other whales to -be in sight, the fishermen will seldom give chase to one of these Grand -Turks for these Grand Turks are too lavish of their strength, and hence -their unctuousness is small. As for the sons and the daughters they beget, -why, those sons and daughters must take care of themselves at least, with -only the maternal help. For like certain other omnivorous roving lovers that -might be named, my Lord Whale has no taste for the nursery, however much for -the bower and so, being a great traveller, he leaves his anonymous babies -all over the world every baby an exotic. In good time, nevertheless, as the -ardor of youth declines as years and dumps increase as reflection lends -her solemn pauses in short, as a general lassitude overtakes the sated Turk -then a love of ease and virtue supplants the love for maidens our Ottoman -enters upon the impotent, repentant, admonitory stage of life, forswears, -disbands the harem, and grown to an exemplary, sulky old soul, goes about -all alone among the meridians and parallels saying his prayers, and warning -each young Leviathan from his amorous errors. Now, as the harem of whales is -called by the fishermen a school, so is the lord and master of that school -technically known as the schoolmaster. It is therefore not in strict -character, however admirably satirical, that after going to school himself, -he should then go abroad inculcating not what he learned there, but the folly -of it. His title, schoolmaster, would very naturally -seem derived from the name bestowed upon the harem itself, but some have -surmised that the man who first thus entitled this sort of Ottoman whale, -must have read the memoirs of Vidocq, and informed himself what sort of a -countryschoolmaster that famous Frenchman was in his younger days, and what -was the nature of those occult lessons he inculcated into some of his pupils. -The same secludedness and isolation to which the schoolmaster whale betakes -himself in his advancing years, is true of all aged Sperm Whales. Almost -universally, a lone whale as a solitary Leviathan is called proves an -ancient one. Like venerable mossbearded Daniel Boone, he will have no one -near him but Nature herself and her he takes to wife in the wilderness of -waters, and the best of wives she is, though she keeps so many moody -secrets. The schools composing none but young and vigorous males, previously -mentioned, offer a strong contrast to the harem schools. For while those -female whales are characteristically timid, the young males, or -fortybarrelbulls, as they call them, are by far the most pugnacious of all -Leviathans, and proverbially the most dangerous to encounter excepting -those wondrous greyheaded, grizzled whales, sometimes met, and these will -fight you like grim fiends exasperated by a penal gout. The Fortybarrelbull -schools are larger than the harem schools. Like a mob of young collegians, -they are full of fight, fun, and wickedness, tumbling round the world at such -a reckless, rollicking rate, that no prudent underwriter would insure them -any more than he would a riotous lad at Yale or Harvard. They soon relinquish -this turbulence though, and when about three fourths grown, break up, and -separately go about in quest of settlements, that is, harems. Another point -of difference between the male and female schools is still more characteristic -of the sexes. Say you strike a Fortybarrelbull poor devil all his -comrades quit him. But strike a member of the harem school, and her -companions swim around her with every token of concern, sometimes lingering -so near her and so long, as themselves to fall a prey. -The allusion to the waifs -and waifpoles in the last chapter but one, necessitates some account of the -laws and regulations of the whale fishery, of which the waif may be deemed -the grand symbol and badge. It frequently happens that when several ships are -cruising in company, a whale may be struck by one vessel, then escape, and -be finally killed and captured by another vessel and herein are indirectly -comprised many minor contingencies, all partaking of this one grand feature. -For example, after a weary and perilous chase and capture of a whale, the -body may get loose from the ship by reason of a violent storm and drifting -far away to leeward, be retaken by a second whaler, who, in a calm, snugly -tows it alongside, without risk of life or line. Thus the most vexatious and -violent disputes would often arise between the fishermen, were there not some -written or unwritten, universal, undisputed law applicable to all cases. -Perhaps the only formal whaling code authorized by legislative enactment, was -that of Holland. It was decreed by the StatesGeneral in A. D. -. But -though no other nation has ever had any written whaling law, yet the American -fishermen have been their own legislators and lawyers in this matter. They -have provided a system which for terse comprehensiveness surpasses Justinian's -Pandects and the Bylaws of the Chinese Society for the Suppression of -Meddling with other People's Business. Yes these laws might be engraven on a -Queen Anne's farthing, or the barb of a harpoon, and worn round the neck, so -small are they. I. A FastFish belongs to the party fast to it. II. A -LooseFish is fair game for anybody who can soonest catch it. But what plays -the mischief with this masterly code is the -admirable brevity of it, which necessitates a vast volume of commentaries to -expound it. First What is a FastFish? Alive or dead a fish is technically -fast, when it is connected with an occupied ship or boat, by any medium at -all controllable by the occupant or occupants, a mast, an oar, a nineinch -cable, a telegraph wire, or a strand of cobweb, it is all the same. Likewise -a fish is technically fast when it bears a waif, or any other recognised -symbol of possession so long as the party waifing it plainly evince their -ability at any time to take it alongside, as well as their intention so to -do. These are scientific commentaries but the commentaries of the whalemen -themselves sometimes consist in hard words and harder knocks the -CokeuponLittleton of the fist. True, among the more upright and honorable -whalemen allowances are always made for peculiar cases, where it would be an -outrageous moral injustice for one party to claim possession of a whale -previously chased or killed by another party. But others are by no means so -scrupulous. Some fifty years ago there was a curious case of whaletrover -litigated in England, wherein the plaintiffs set forth that after a hard -chase of a whale in the Northern seas and when indeed they the plaintiffs -had succeeded in harpooning the fish they were at last, through peril of -their lives, obliged to forsake not only their lines, but their boat itself. -Ultimately the defendants the crew of another ship came up with the whale, -struck, killed, seized, and finally appropriated it before the very eyes of -the plaintiffs. And when those defendants were remonstrated with, their -captain snapped his fingers in the plaintiffs' teeth, and assured them that by -way of doxology to the deed he had done, he would now retain their line, -harpoons, and boat, which had remained attached to the whale at the time of -the seizure. Wherefore the plaintiffs now sued for the recovery of the value -of their whale, line, harpoons, and boat. Mr. Erskine was counsel for the -defendants Lord Ellenborough was the judge. In the course of the defence, -the witty Erskine went on to illustrate his position, by alluding to a recent -crim. con. case, wherein a gentleman, after in vain trying to bridle his -wife's viciousness, had at last abandoned her upon -the seas of life but in the course of years, repenting of that step, he -instituted an action to recover possession of her. Erskine was on the other -side and he then supported it by saying, that though the gentleman had -originally harpooned the lady, and had once had her fast, and only by reason -of the great stress of her plunging viciousness, had as last abandoned her -yet abandon her he did, so that she became a loosefish and therefore when -a subsequent gentleman reharpooned her, the lady then became that subsequent -gentleman's property, along with whatever harpoon might have been found -sticking in her. Now in the present case Erskine contended that the examples -of the whale and the lady were reciprocally illustrative of each other. These -pleadings, and the counter pleadings, being duly heard, the very learned judge -in set terms decided, to wit, That as for the boat, he awarded it to the -plaintiffs, because they had merely abandoned it to save their lives but -that with regard to the controverted whale, harpoons, and line, they belonged -to the defendants the whale, because it was a LooseFish at the time of the -final capture and the harpoons and line because when the fish made off with -them, it the fish acquired a property in those articles and hence anybody -who afterwards took the fish had a right to them. Now the defendants -afterwards took the fish ergo, the aforesaid articles were theirs. A common -man looking at this decision of the very learned Judge, might possibly object -to it. But ploughed up to the primary rock of the matter, the two great -principles laid down in the twin whaling laws previously quoted, and applied -and elucidated by Lord Ellenborough in the above cited case these two laws -touching FastFish and LooseFish, I say, will, on reflection, be found the -fundamentals of all human jurisprudence For notwithstanding its complicated -tracery of sculpture, the Temple of the Law, like the Temple of the -Philistines, has but two props to stand on. Is it not a saying in every one's -mouth, Possession is half of the law that is, regardless of how the thing -came into possession? But often possession is the whole of the law. What are -the sinews and souls of Russian serfs and Republican slaves -but FastFish, whereof possession is the whole of the law? What to the -rapacious landlord is the widow's last mite but a FastFish? What is yonder -undetected villain's marble mansion with a doorplate for a waif what is -that but a FastFish? What is the ruinous discount which Mordecai, the broker, -gets from poor Woebegone, the bankrupt, on a loan to keep Woebegone's family -from starvation what is that ruinous discount but a FastFish? What is the -archbishop of Savesoul's income of , pounds seized from the scant bread -and cheese of hundreds of thousands of brokenbacked laborers all sure of -heaven without any of Savesoul's help what is that globular , but a -FastFish? What are the Duke of Dunder's hereditary towns and hamlets but -FastFish? What to that redoubted harpooneer, John Bull, is poor Ireland, -but a FastFish? What to that apostolic lancer, Brother Jonathan, is Texas -but a FastFish? And concerning all these, is not Possession the whole of -the law? But if the doctrine of FastFish be pretty generally applicable, the -kindred doctrine of LooseFish is still more widely so. That is -internationally and universally applicable. What was America in -but a -loosefish, in which Columbus struck the Spanish standard by way of waifing -it for his royal master and mistress? What was Poland to the Czar? What -Greece to the Turk? What India to England? What at last will Mexico be to -the United States? All LooseFish. What are the Rights of Man and the -Liberties of the World but LooseFish? What all men's minds and opinions but -LooseFish? What is the principle of religious belief in them but a -LooseFish? What to the ostentatious smuggling verbalists are the thoughts of -thinkers but LooseFish? What is the great globe itself but a LooseFish? -And what are you, reader, but a LooseFish and a FastFish, too? -Father Mapple rose, and in a mild voice of -unassuming authority ordered the scattered people to condense. Starboard -gangway, there side away to larboardlarboard gangway to starboard -Midships midships There was a low rumbling of heavy seaboots among the -benches, and a still slighter shuffling of women's shoes, and all was quiet -again, and every eye on the preacher. He paused a little then kneeling in -the pulpit's bows, folded his large brown hands across his chest, uplifted his -closed eyes, -and offered a prayer so deeply devout that he seemed kneeling and praying at -the bottom of the sea. This ended, in prolonged solemn tones, like the -continual tolling of a bell in a ship that is foundering at sea in a fog in -such tones he commenced reading the following hymn but changing his manner -towards the concluding stanzas, burst forth with a pealing exultation and joy -The ribs and terrors in the whale, Arched over me a dismal gloom, While -all God's sunlit waves rolled by, And lift me deepening down to doom. I saw -the opening maw of hell, With endless pains and sorrows there Which none but -they that feel can tell Oh, I was plunging to despair. In black distress, -I called my God, When I could scarce believe him mine, He bowed his ear to my -complaints No more the whale did me confine. With speed he flew to my -relief, As on a radiant dolphin borne Awful, yet bright, as lightning shone -The face of my Deliverer God. My song for ever shall record That terrible, -that joyful hour I give the glory to my God, His all the mercy and the -power. Nearly all joined in singing this hymn, which swelled high above the -howling of the storm. A brief pause ensued the preacher slowly turned over -the leaves of the Bible, and at last, folding his hand down upon the proper -page, said Beloved shipmates, clinch the last verse of the first chapter of -Jonah And God had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah. Shipmates, -this book, containing only four chapters four yarns is one of the smallest -strands in the mighty cable of the Scriptures. Yet what depths of the soul -does Jonah's deep sealine sound what a pregnant lesson to us is this -prophet What -a noble thing is that canticle in the fish's belly How billowlike and -boisterously grand We feel the floods surging over us we sound with him to -the kelpy bottom of the waters seaweed and all the slime of the sea is -about us But what is this lesson that the book of Jonah teaches? -Shipmates, it is a twostranded lesson a lesson to us all as sinful men, -and a lesson to me as a pilot of the living God. As sinful men, it is a -lesson to us all, because it is a story of the sin, hardheartedness, -suddenly awakened fears, the swift punishment, repentance, prayers, and -finally the deliverance and joy of Jonah. As with all sinners among men, -the sin of this son of Amittai was in his wilful disobedience of the command -of God never mind now what that command was, or how conveyed which he found -a hard command. But all the things that God would have us do are hard for us -to do remember that and hence, he oftener commands us than endeavors to -persuade. And if we obey God, we must disobey ourselves and it is in this -disobeying ourselves, wherein the hardness of obeying God consists. With -this sin of disobedience in him, Jonah still further flouts at God, by -seeking to flee from Him. He thinks that a ship made by men, will carry him -into countries where God does not reign, but only the Captains of this earth. -He skulks about the wharves of Joppa, and seeks a ship that's bound for -Tarshish. There lurks, perhaps, a hitherto unheeded meaning here. By all -accounts Tarshish could have been no other city than the modern Cadiz. That's -the opinion of learned men. And where is Cadiz, shipmates? Cadiz is in -Spain as far by water, from Joppa, as Jonah could possibly have sailed in -those ancient days, when the Atlantic was an almost unknown sea. Because -Joppa, the modern Jaffa, shipmates, is on the most easterly coast of the -Mediterranean, the Syrian and Tarshish or Cadiz more than two thousand miles -to the westward from that, just outside the Straits of Gibraltar. See ye not -then, shipmates, that Jonah sought to flee worldwide from God? Miserable -man Oh most contemptible and worthy of all scorn with slouched hat and -guilty eye, skulking from his God prowling among the shipping like a vile -burglar hastening to cross the seas. So disordered, selfcondemning is his -look, that had there been policemen in -those days, jonah, on the mere suspicion of something wrong, had been arrested -ere he touched a deck. How plainly he's a fugitive no baggage, not a -hatbox, valise, or carpetbag, no friends accompany him to the wharf with -their adieux. At last, after much dodging search, he finds the Tarshish ship -receiving the last items of her cargo and as he steps on board to see its -Captain in the cabin, all the sailors for the moment desist from hoisting in -the goods, to mark the stranger's evil eye. Jonah sees this but in vain he -tries to look all ease and confidence in vain essays his wretched smile. -Strong intuitions of the man assure the mariners he can be no innocent. In -their gamesome but still serious way, one whispers to the other "Jack, he's -robbed a widow" or,"Joe, do you mark him he's a bigamist" or,"Harry lad, -I guess he's the adulterer that broke jail in old Gomorrah, or belike, one of -the missing murderers from Sodom." Another runs to read the bill that's stuck -against the spile upon the wharf to which the ship is moored, offering five -hundred gold coins for the apprehension of a parricide, and containing a -description of his person. He reads, and looks from Jonah to the bill -while all his sympathetic shipmates now crowd round Jonah, prepared to lay -their hands upon him. Frighted Jonah trembles, and summoning all his -boldness to his face, only looks so much the more a coward. He will not -confess himself suspected but that itself is strong suspicion. So he makes -the best of it and when the sailors find him not to be the man that is -advertised, they let him pass, and he descends into the cabin. "Who's -there?" cries the Captain at his busy desk, hurriedly making out his papers -for the Customs "who's there?" Oh how that harmless question mangles Jonah -For the instant he almost turns to flee again. But he rallies. "I seek a -passage in this ship to Tarshish how soon sail ye, sir?" Thus far the busy -captain had not looked up to jonah, though the man now stands before him -but no sooner does he hear that hollow voice, than he darts a scrutinizing -glance. "We sail with the next coming tide," at last he slowly answered, -still intently eyeing him. "No sooner, sir?" "Soon enough for any honest man -that goes a passenger." Ha Jonah, that's another stab. But he swiftly calls -away the Captain from that scent. "I'll sail with ye," he says, "the -passage -money, how much is that, I'll pay now." For it is particularly written, -shipmates, as if it were a thing not to be overlooked in this history,"that he -paid the fare thereof" ere the craft did sail. And taken with the context, -this is full of meaning. Now Jonah's Captain, shipmates, was one whose -discernment detects crime in any, but whose cupidity exposes it only in the -penniless. In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely, -and without a passport whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all -frontiers. So Jonah's Captain prepares to test the length of Jonah's purse, -ere he judge him openly. He charges him thrice the usual sum and it's -assented to. Then the Captain knows that Jonah is a fugitive but at the -same time resolves to help a flight that paves its rear with gold. Yet when -Jonah fairly takes out his purse, prudent suspicions still molest the Captain. -He rings every coin to find a counterfeit. Not a forger, any way, he mutters -and Jonah is put down for his passage. "Point out my stateroom, Sir," says -Jonah now. "I'm travelweary I need sleep." "Thou look'st like it," says -the Captain, "there's thy room." Jonah enters, and would lock the door, -but the lock contains no key. Hearing him foolishly fumbling there, the -Captain laughs lowly to himself, and mutters something about the doors of -convicts' cells being never allowed to be locked within. All dressed and -dusty as he is, Jonah throws himself into his berth, and finds the little -stateroom ceiling almost resting on his forehead. The air is close, and -jonah gasps. then, in that contracted hole, sunk, too, beneath the ship's -waterline, Jonah feels the heralding presentiment of that stifling hour, when -the whale shall hold him in the smallest of his bowel's wards. Screwed at -its axis against the side, a swinging lamp slightly oscillates in Jonah's -room and the ship, heeling over towards the wharf with the weight of the -last bales received, the lamp, flame and all, though in slight motion, still -maintains a permanent obliquity with reference to the room though, in truth, -infallibly straight itself, it but made obvious the false, lying levels -among which it hung. The lamp alarms and frightens Jonah as lying in his -berth his tormented eyes roll round the place, and this thus far successful -fugitive finds no refuge for his restless glance. But that contradiction in -the lamp more and -more appals him. The floor, the ceiling, and the side, are all awry. "Oh so -my conscience hangs in me" he groans, "straight upward, so it burns but the -chambers of my soul are all in crookedness" Like one who after a night of -drunken revelry hies to his bed, still reeling, but with conscience yet -pricking him, as the plungings of the Roman racehorse but so much the more -strike his steel tags into him as one who in that miserable plight still -turns and turns in giddy anguish, praying God for annihilation until the fit -be passed and at last amid the whirl of woe he feels, a deep stupor steals -over him, as over the man who bleeds to death, for conscience is the wound, -and there's naught to staunch it so, after sore wrestlings in his berth, -Jonah's prodigy of ponderous misery drags him drowning down to sleep. And -now the time of tide has come the ship casts off her cables and from the -deserted wharf the uncheered ship for Tarshish, all careening, glides to sea. -That ship, my friends, was the first of recorded smugglers the contraband -was jonah. but the sea rebels he will not bear the wicked burden. A -dreadful storm comes on, the ship is like to break. But now when the -boatswain calls all hands to lighten her when boxes, bales, and jars are -clattering overboard when the wind is shrieking, and the men are yelling, -and every plank thunders with trampling feet right over Jonah's head in all -this raging tumult, Jonah sleeps his hideous sleep. He sees no black sky and -raging sea, feels not the reeling timbers, and little hears he or heeds he -the far rush of the mighty whale, which even now with open mouth is cleaving -the seas after him. Aye, shipmates, Jonah was gone down into the sides of -the ship a berth in the cabin as I have taken it, and was fast asleep. But -the frightened master comes to him, and shrieks in his dead ear, "What -meanest thou, O sleeper arise" Startled from his lethargy by that direful -cry, Jonah staggers to his feet, and stumbling to the deck, grasps a shroud, -to look out upon the sea. But at that moment he is sprung upon by a panther -billow leaping over the bulwarks. Wave after wave thus leaps into the ship, -and finding no speedy vent runs roaring fore and aft, till the mariners come -nigh to drowning while yet afloat. And ever, as the white moon shows -her affrighted face from the steep gullies in the blackness overhead, aghast -Jonah sees the rearing bowsprit pointing high upward, but soon beat downward -again towards the tormented deep. Terrors upon terrors run shouting through -his soul. In all his cringing attitudes, the Godfugitive is now too plainly -known. The sailors mark him more and more certain grow their suspicions of -him, and at last, fully to test the truth, by referring the whole matter to -high Heaven, they fall to casting lots, to see for whose cause this great -tempest was upon them. The lot is Jonah's that discovered, then how -furiously they mob him with their questions. "What is thine occupation? -whence comest thou? thy country? what people?" but mark now, my shipmates, -the behavior of poor Jonah. The eager mariners but ask him who he is, and -where from whereas, they not only receive an answer to those questions, but -likewise another answer to a question not put by them, but the unsolicited -answer is forced from Jonah by the hard hand of God that is upon him. "I am -a Hebrew," he cries and then "I fear the Lord the God of Heaven who hath -made the sea and the dry land" Fear him, O Jonah? Aye, well mightest thou -fear the Lord God then Straightway, he now goes on to make a full -confession whereupon the mariners became more and more appalled, but still -are pitiful. For when Jonah, not yet supplicating God for mercy, since he -but too well knew the darkness of his deserts, when wretched Jonah cries out -to them to take him and cast him forth into the sea, for he knew that for -his sake this great tempest was upon them they mercifully turn from him, -and seek by other means to save the ship. But all in vain the indignant -gale howls louder then, with one hand raised invokingly to God, with the -other they not unreluctantly lay hold of Jonah. And now behold Jonah taken up -as an anchor and dropped into the sea when instantly an oily calmness floats -out from the east, and the sea is still, as Jonah carries down the gale with -him, leaving smooth water behind. He goes down in the whirling heart of such -a masterless commotion that he scarce heeds the moment when he drops seething -into the yawning jaws -awaiting him and the whale shootsto all his ivory teeth, like the Lord out -of the fish's belly. But observe his prayer, and so many white bolts, upon -his prison. Then Jonah prayed unto learn a weighty lesson. For sinful as he -is, Jonah does not weep and wail for direct deliverance. He feels that his -dreadful punishment is just. He leaves all his deliverance to God, contenting -himself with this, that spite of all his pains and pangs, he will still -look towards His holy temple. And here, shipmates, is true and faithful -repentance not clamorous for pardon, but grateful for punishment. And how -pleasing to God was this conduct in Jonah, is shown in the eventual -deliverance of him from the sea and the whale. Shipmates, I do not place -Jonah before you to be copied for his sin but I do place him before you as a -model for repentance. Sin not but if you do, take heed to repent of it like -Jonah. While he was speaking these words, the howling of the shrieking, -slanting storm without seemed to add new power to the preacher, who, when -describing Jonah's seastorm, seemed tossed by a storm himself. His deep -chest heaved as with a groundswell his tossed arms seemed the warring -elements at work and the thunders that rolled away from off his swarthy -brow, and the light leaping from his eye, made all his simple hearers look -on him with a quick fear that was strange to them. There now came a lull in -his look, as he silently turned over the leaves of the Book once more and, -at last, standing motionless, with closed eyes, for the moment, seemed -communing with God and himself. But again he leaned over towards the people, -and bowing his head lowly, with an aspect of the deepest yet manliest -humility, he spake these words Shipmates, God has laid but one hand upon -you both his hands press upon me. I have read ye by what murky light may -be mine the lesson that Jonah teaches to all sinners and therefore to ye, -and still more to me, for I am a greater sinner than ye. And now how gladly -would I come down from this masthead and sit on the hatches there where you -sit, and listen as you listen, while some one of you reads me that other -and more awful lesson which Jonah teaches to me as a pilot of -the living God. How being an anointed pilotprophet, or speaker of true -things, and bidden by the Lord to sound those unwelcome truths in the ears of -a wicked nineveh, jonah, appalled at the hostility he should raise, fled from -his mission, and sought to escape his duty and his God by taking ship at -Joppa. But God is everywhere Tarshish he never reached. As we have seen, -God came upon him in the whale, and swallowed him down to living gulfs of -doom, and with swift slantings tore him along"into the midst of the seas," -where the eddying depths sucked him ten thousand fathoms down, and"the weeds -were wrapped about his head," and all the watery world of woe bowled over -him. Yet even then beyond the reach of any plummet "out of the belly of -hell" when the whale grounded upon the ocean's utmost bones, even then, God -heard the engulphed, repenting prophet when he cried. Then God spake unto the -fish and from the shuddering cold and blackness of the sea, the whale came -breeching up towards the warm and pleasant sun, and all the delights of air -and earth and"vomited out Jonah upon the dry land" when the word of the -Lord came a second time and Jonah, bruised and beaten his ears, like two -seashells, still multitudinously murmuring of the ocean Jonah did the -Almighty's bidding. And what was that, shipmates? To preach the Truth to the -face of Falsehood That was it This, shipmates, this is that other lesson -and woe to that pilot of the living God who slights it. Woe to him whom this -world charms from Gospel duty Woe to him who seeks to pour oil upon the -waters when God has brewed them into a gale Woe to him who seeks to please -rather than to appal Woe to him whose good name is more to him than goodness -Woe to him who, in this world, courts not dishonor Woe to him who would not -be true, even though to be false were salvation Yea, woe to him who, as the -great Pilot Paul has it, while preaching to others is himself a castaway -He drooped and fell away from himself for a moment then lifting his face to -them again, showed a deep joy in his eyes, as he cried out with a heavenly -enthusiasm, but oh shipmates on the starboard hand of every woe, there is -a sure delight and higher the top of that delight, than the bottom of the -woe is -deep. Is not the maintruck higher than the kelson is low? Delight is to -him a far, far upward, and inward delight who against the proud gods and -commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self. Delight -is to him whose strong arms yet support him, when the ship of this base -treacherous world has gone down beneath him. Delight is to him, who gives -no quarter in the truth, and kills, burns, and destroys all sin though he -pluck it out from under the robes of Senators and Judges. Delight, -topgallant delight is to him, who acknowledges no law or lord, but the -Lord his God, and is only a patriot to heaven. Delight is to him, whom all -the waves of the billows of the seas of the boisterous mob can never shake -from this sure Keel of the Ages. And eternal delight and deliciousness will -be his, who coming to lay him down, can say with his final breath O Father -chiefly known to me by Thy rod mortal or immortal, here I die. I have -striven to be Thine, more than to be this world's, or mine own. Yet this is -nothing I leave eternity to Thee for what is man that he should live out -the lifetime of his God? He said no more, but slowly waving a benediction, -covered his face with his hands, and so remained kneeling, till all the -people had departed, and he was left alone in the place. -De balena vero sufficit, si rex habeat -caput, et regina caudam. Bracton, l . c. . Latin from the books of the -Laws of England, which taken along with the context, means, that of all whales -captured by anybody on the coast of that land, the King, as Honorary Grand -Harpooneer, must have the head, and the Queen be respectfully presented with -the tail. A division which, in the whale, is much like halving an apple -there is no intermediate remainder. Now as this law, under a modified form, -is to this day in force in England and as it offers in various respects a -strange anomaly touching the general law of Fast and LooseFish, it is here -treated of in a separate chapter, on the same courteous principle that -prompts the English railways to be at the expense of a separate car, specially -reserved for the accommodation of royalty. In the first place, in curious -proof of the fact that the abovementioned law is still in force, I proceed to -lay before you a circumstance that happened within the last two years. It -seems that some honest mariners of Dover, or Sandwich, or some one of the -Cinque Ports, had after a hard chase succeeded in killing and beaching a fine -whale which they had originally descried afar off from the shore. Now the -Cinque Ports are partially or somehow under the jurisdiction of a sort of -policeman or beadle, called a Lord Warden. Holding the office directly from -the crown, I believe, all the royal emoluments incident to the Cinque Port -territories become by assignment his. By some writers this office is called a -sinecure. But not so. Because the Lord Warden is busily employed at times -in fobbing his perquisites which are his chiefly by virtue of that same -fobbing of them. Now when these poor sunburnt mariners, barefooted, and -with their trowsers rolled high up on their eely legs, had wearily hauled -their fat fish high and dry, promising themselves a good pounds from the -precious oil and bone and in fantasy sipping rare tea with their wives, and -good ale with their cronies, upon the strength of their respective shares -up steps a very learned and most Christian and charitable gentleman, with a -copy of Blackstone under his arm and laying it upon the whale's head, he -says Hands off this fish, my masters, is a FastFish. I seize it as the -Lord Warden's. Upon this the poor mariners in their respectful consternation -so truly English knowing not what to say, fall to vigorously scratching -their heads all round meanwhile ruefully glancing from the whale to the -stranger. But that did in nowise mend the matter, or at all soften the hard -heart of the learned gentleman with the copy of Blackstone. At length one of -them, after long scratching about for his ideas, made bold to speak. Please, -sir, who is the Lord Warden? The Duke. But the duke had nothing to do -with taking this fish? It is his. We have been at great trouble, and -peril, and some expense, and is all that to go to the Duke's benefit we -getting nothing at all for our pains but our blisters? It is his. Is the -duke so very poor as to be forced to this desperate mode of getting a -livelihood? It is his. I thought to relieve my old bedridden mother by -part of my share of this whale. It is his. Won't the Duke be content -with a quarter or a half? It is his. In a word, the whale was seized and -sold, and his Grace the Duke of Wellington received the money. Thinking that -viewed in some particular lights, the case might by a bare possibility in -some small degree be deemed, under the circumstances, a rather hard one, an -honest clergyman of the town respectfully addressed a note to his Grace, -begging him to take the case of those unfortunate -mariners into full consideration. To which my Lord Duke in substance replied -both letters were published that he had already done so, and received the -money, and would be obliged to the reverend gentleman if for the future he -the reverend gentleman would decline meddling with other people's business. -Is this the still militant old man, standing at the corners of the three -kingdoms, on all hands coercing alms of beggars? It will readily be seen that -in this case the alleged right of the Duke to the whale was a delegated one -from the Sovereign. We must needs inquire then on what principle the Sovereign -is originally invested with that right. The law itself has already been set -forth. But Plowdon gives us the reason for it. Says Plowdon, the whale so -caught belongs to the King and Queen, because of its superior excellence. -And by the soundest commentators this has ever been held a cogent argument -in such matters. But why should the King have the head, and the Queen the -tail? A reason for that, ye lawyers In his treatise on QueenGold, or -Queenpinmoney, an old King's Bench author, one William Prynne, thus -discourseth Ye tail is ye Queen's, that ye Queen's wardrobe may be supplied -with ye whalebone. Now this was written at a time when the black limber bone -of the Greenland or Right whale was largely used in ladies' bodices. But this -same bone is not in the tail it is in the head, which is a sad mistake for -a sagacious lawyer like Prynne. But is the Queen a mermaid, to be presented -with a tail? An allegorical meaning may lurk here. There are two royal fish -so styled by the English law writers the whale and the sturgeon both royal -property under certain limitations, and nominally supplying the tenth branch -of the crown's ordinary revenue. I know not that any other author has hinted -of the matter but by inference it seems to me that the sturgeon must be -divided in the same way as the whale, the King receiving the highly dense and -elastic head peculiar to that fish, which, symbolically regarded, may -possibly be humorously grounded upon some presumed congeniality. And thus -there seems a reason in all things, even in law. -In vain it was to rake -for Ambergriese in the paunch of this Leviathan, insufferable fetor denying -not inquiry. Sir T. Browne, V. E. It was a week or two after the last -whaling scene recounted, and when we were slowly sailing over a sleepy, -vapory, midday sea, that the many noses on the Pequod's deck proved more -vigilant discoverers than the three pairs of eyes aloft. A peculiar and not -very pleasant smell was smelt in the sea. I will bet something now, said -Stubb, that somewhere hereabouts are some of those drugged whales we tickled -the other day. I thought they would keel up before long. Presently, the -vapors in advance slid aside and there in the distance lay a ship, whose -furled sails betokened that some sort of whale must be alongside. As we -glided nearer, the stranger showed French colors from his peak and by the -eddying cloud of vulture seafowl that circled, and hovered, and swooped -around him, it was plain that the whale alongside must be what the fishermen -call a blasted whale, that is, a whale that has died unmolested on the sea, -and so floated an unappropriated corpse. It may well be conceived, what an -unsavory odor such a mass must exhale worse than an Assyrian city in the -plague, when the living are incompetent to bury the departed. So intolerable -indeed is it regarded by some, that no cupidity could persuade them to moor -alongside of it. Yet are there those who will still do it notwithstanding -the fact that the oil obtained from such subjects is of a very inferior -quality, and by no means of the nature of attarofrose. Coming still nearer -with the expiring breeze, we saw that the Frenchman had a second whale -alongside and this second whale seemed even more of a nosegay than the -first. In truth, it turned out to be one of those problematical whales that -seem -to dry up and die with a sort of prodigious dyspepsia, or indigestion -leaving their defunct bodies almost entirely bankrupt of anything like oil. -Nevertheless, in the proper place we shall see that no knowing fisherman will -ever turn up his nose at such a whale as this, however much he may shun -blasted whales in general. The Pequod had now swept so nigh to the stranger, -that Stubb vowed he recognized his cutting spadepole entangled in the lines -that were knotted round the tail of one of these whales. There's a pretty -fellow, now, he banteringly laughed, standing in the ship's bows, there's -a jackal for ye I well know that these Crappoes of Frenchmen are but poor -devils in the fishery sometimes lowering their boats for breakers, mistaking -them for Sperm Whale spouts yes, and sometimes sailing from their port with -their hold full of boxes of tallow candles, and cases of snuffers, -foreseeing that all the oil they will get won't be enough to dip the Captain's -wick into aye, we all know these things but look ye, here's a Crappo -that is content with our leavings, the drugged whale there, I mean aye, and -is content too with scraping the dry bones of that other precious fish he has -there. Poor devil I say, pass round a hat, some one, and let's make him a -present of a little oil for dear charity's sake. For what oil he'll get from -that drugged whale there, wouldn't be fit to burn in a jail no, not in a -condemned cell. And as for the other whale, why, I'll agree to get more oil -by chopping up and trying out these three masts of ours, than he'll get from -that bundle of bones though, now that I think of it, it may contain -something worth a good deal more than oil yes, ambergris. I wonder now if -our old man has thought of that. It's worth trying. Yes, I'm for it and -so saying he started for the quarterdeck. By this time the faint air had -become a complete calm so that whether or no, the Pequod was now fairly -entrapped in the smell, with no hope of escaping except by its breezing up -again. Issuing from the cabin, Stubb now called his boat's crew, and pulled -off for the stranger. Drawing across her bow, he perceived that in accordance -with the fanciful French taste, the upper part of her stempiece was carved in -the likeness of a -huge drooping stalk, was painted green, and for thorns had copper spikes -projecting from it here and there the whole terminating in a symmetrical -folded bulb of a bright red color. Upon her head boards, in large gilt -letters, he read Bouton de Rose, Rosebutton, or Rosebud and this was -the romantic name of this aromatic ship. Though Stubb did not understand the -Bouton part of the inscription, yet the word rose, and the bulbous -figurehead put together, sufficiently explained the whole to him. A wooden -rosebud, eh? he cried with his hand to his nose, that will do very well -but how like all creation it smells Now in order to hold direct -communication with the people on deck, he had to pull round the bows to the -starboard side, and thus come close to the blasted whale and so talk over -it. Arrived then at this spot, with one hand still to his nose, he bawled -BoutondeRose, ahoy are there any of you BoutondeRoses that speak -English? Yes, rejoined a Guernseyman from the bulwarks, who turned out -to be the chiefmate. Well, then, my BoutondeRosebud, have you seen the -White Whale? What whale? The White Whale a Sperm Whale Moby Dick, -have ye seen him? Never heard of such a whale. Cachalot Blanche White -Whale no. Very good, then good bye now, and I'll call again in a -minute. Then rapidly pulling back towards the Pequod, and seeing Ahab -leaning over the quarterdeck rail awaiting his report, he moulded his two -hands into a trumpet and shouted No, Sir No Upon which Ahab retired, -and Stubb returned to the Frenchman. He now perceived that the Guernseyman, -who had just got into the chains, and was using a cuttingspade, had slung his -nose in a sort of bag. What's the matter with your nose, there? said Stubb. -Broke it? -I wish it was broken, or that I didn't have any nose at all answered the -Guernseyman, who did not seem to relish the job he was at very much. But -what are you holding yours for? Oh, nothing It's a wax nose I have to -hold it on. Fine day, aint it? Air rather gardenny, I should say throw us -a bunch of posies, will ye, BoutondeRose? What in the devil's name do you -want here? roared the Guernseyman, flying into a sudden passion. Oh -keep coolcool? yes, that's the word why don't you pack those whales in ice -while you're working at 'em? But joking aside, though do you know, -Rosebud, that it's all nonsense trying to get any oil out of such whales? As -for that dried up one, there, he hasn't a gill in his whole carcase. I -know that well enough but, d'ye see, the Captain here won't believe it -this is his first voyage he was a Cologne manufacturer before. But come -aboard, and mayhap he'll believe you, if he won't me and so I'll get out of -this dirty scrape. Anything to oblige ye, my sweet and pleasant fellow, -rejoined Stubb, and with that he soon mounted to the deck. There a queer -scene presented itself. The sailors, in tasselled caps of red worsted, were -getting the heavy tackles in readiness for the whales. But they worked rather -slow and talked very fast, and seemed in anything but a good humor. All -their noses upwardly projected from their faces like so many jibbooms. Now -and then pairs of them would drop their work, and run up to the masthead to -get some fresh air. Some thinking they would catch the plague, dipped oakum -in coaltar, and at intervals held it to their nostrils. Others having -broken the stems of their pipes almost short off at the bowl, were vigorously -puffing tobaccosmoke, so that it constantly filled their olfactories. -Stubb was struck by a shower of outcries and anathemas proceeding from the -Captain's roundhouse abaft and looking in that direction saw a fiery face -thrust from behind the door, which was held ajar from within. This was the -tormented surgeon, who, after in vain remonstrating against the proceedings of -the day, had betaken himself to the Captain's roundhouse cabinet he -called it to avoid the pest but still, could not help yelling out his -entreaties and indignations at times. -Marking all this, Stubb argued well for his scheme, and turning to the -Guernseyman had a little chat with him, during which the stranger mate -expressed his detestation of his Captain as a conceited ignoramus, who had -brought them all into so unsavory and unprofitable a pickle. Sounding him -carefully, Stubb further perceived that the Guernseyman had not the -slightest suspicion concerning the ambergris. He therefore held his peace on -that head, but otherwise was quite frank and confidential with him, so that -the two quickly concocted a little plan for both circumventing and satirizing -the Captain, without his at all dreaming of distrusting their sincerity. -According to this little plan of theirs, the Guernseyman, under cover of an -interpreter's office, was to tell the Captain what he pleased, but as coming -from Stubb and as for Stubb, he was to utter any nonsense that should come -uppermost in him during the interview. By this time their destined victim -appeared from his cabin. He was a small and dark, but rather delicate looking -man for a seacaptain, with large whiskers and moustache, however and wore -a red cotton velvet vest with watchseals at his side. To this gentleman, -Stubb was now politely introduced by the Guernseyman, who at once -ostentatiously put on the aspect of interpreting between them. What shall I -say to him first? said he. Why, said Stubb, eyeing the velvet vest and the -watch and seals, you may as well begin by telling him that he looks a sort -of babyish to me, though I don't pretend to be a judge. He says, Monsieur, -said the Guernseyman, in French, turning to his captain, that only -yesterday his ship spoke a vessel, whose captain and chiefmate, with six -sailors, had all died of a fever caught from a blasted whale they had brought -alongside. Upon this the captain started, and eagerly desired to know more. -What now? said the Guernseyman to Stubb. Why, since he takes it so easy, -tell him that now I have eyed him carefully, I'm quite certain that he's no -more fit to command a whaleship than a St. Jago monkey. In fact, tell him -from me he's a baboon. -He vows and declares, Monsieur, that the other whale, the dried one, is far -more deadly than the blasted one in fine, Monsieur, he conjures us, as we -value our lives, to cut loose from these fish. Instantly the captain ran -forward, and in a loud voice commanded his crew to desist from hoisting the -cuttingtackles, and at once cast loose the cables and chains confining the -whales to the ship. What now? said the Guernseyman, when the captain had -returned to them. Why, let me see yes, you may as well tell him now that -that in fact, tell him I've diddled him, and aside to himself perhaps -somebody else. He says, Monsieur, that he's very happy to have been of any -service to us. Hearing this, the captain vowed that they were the grateful -parties meaning himself and mate and concluded by inviting Stubb down into -his cabin to drink a bottle of Bordeaux. He wants you to take a glass of wine -with him, said the interpreter. Thank him heartily but tell him it's -against my principles to drink with the man I've diddled. In fact, tell him -I must go. He says, Monsieur, that his principles won't admit of his -drinking but that if Monsieur wants to live another day to drink, then -Monsieur had best drop all four boats, and pull the ship away from these -whales, for it's so calm they won't drift. By this time Stubb was over the -side, and getting into his boat, hailed the Guernseyman to this effect, -that having a long towline in his boat, he would do what he could to help -them, by pulling out the lighter whale of the two from the ship's side. While -the Frenchman's boats, then, were engaged in towing the ship one way, Stubb -benevolently towed away at his whale the other way, ostentatiously slacking -out a most unusually long towline. Presently a breeze sprang up Stubb -feigned to cast off from the whale hoisting his boats, the Frenchman soon -increased his distance, while the Pequod slid in between him and Stubb's -whale. Whereupon Stubb quickly pulled to the floating body, -and hailing the pequod to give notice of his intentions, at once proceeded to -reap the fruit of his unrighteous cunning. Seizing his sharp boatspade, he -commenced an excavation in the body, a little behind the side fin. You would -almost have thought he was digging a cellar there in the sea and when at -length his spade struck against the gaunt ribs, it was like turning up old -Roman tiles and pottery buried in fat English loam. His boat's crew were all -in high excitement, eagerly helping their chief, and looking as anxious as -goldhunters. And all the time numberless fowls were diving, and ducking, and -screaming, and yelling, and fighting around them. Stubb was beginning to look -disappointed, especially as the horrible nosegay increased, when suddenly -from out the very heart of this plague, there stole a faint stream of -perfume, which flowed through the tide of bad smells without being absorbed -by it, as one river will flow into and then along with another, without at -all blending with it for a time. I have it, I have it, cried Stubb, with -delight, striking something in the subterranean regions, a purse a -purse Dropping his spade, he thrust both hands in, and drew out handfuls -of something that looked like ripe Windsor soap, or rich mottled old cheese -very unctuous and savory withal. You might easily dent it with your thumb -it is of a hue between yellow and ash color. And this, good friends, is -ambergris, worth a gold guinea an ounce to any druggist. Some six handfuls -were obtained but more was unavoidably lost in the sea, and still more, -perhaps, might have been secured were it not for impatient Ahab's loud command -to Stubb to desist, and come on board, else the ship would bid them good -bye. -Now this ambergris is a very curious -substance, and so important as an article of commerce, that in -a -certain Nantucketborn -Captain Coffin was examined at the bar of the English House of Commons on that -subject. for at that time, and indeed until a comparatively late day, the -precise origin of ambergris remained, like amber itself, a problem to the -learned. Though the word ambergris is but the French compound for grey amber, -yet the two substances are quite distinct. For amber, though at times found -on the seacoast, is also dug up in some far inland soils, whereas ambergris -is never found except upon the sea. Besides, amber is a hard, transparent, -brittle, odorless substance, used for mouthpieces to pipes, for beads and -ornaments but ambergris is soft, waxy, and so highly fragrant and spicy, -that it is largely used in perfumery, in pastiles, precious candles, -hairpowders, and pomatum. The Turks use it in cooking, and also carry it to -Mecca, for the same purpose that frankincense is carried to St. Peter's in -Rome. Some wine merchants drop a few grains into claret, to flavor it. Who -would think, then, that such fine ladies and gentlemen should regale -themselves with an essence found in the inglorious bowels of a sick whale -Yet so it is. By some, ambergris is supposed to be the cause, and by others -the effect, of the dyspepsia in the whale. How to cure such a dyspepsia it -were hard to say, unless by administering three or four boat loads of -Brandreth's pills, and then running out of harm's way, as laborers do in -blasting rocks. I have forgotten to say that there were found in this -ambergris, certain hard, round, bony plates, which at first Stubb thought -might be sailors' trousers buttons but it afterwards turned out that they -were nothing more than pieces of small squid bones embalmed in that manner. -Now that the incorruption of this most fragrant ambergris should be found in -the heart of such decay is this nothing? Bethink thee of that saying of St. -Paul in Corinthians, about corruption and incorruption how that we are sown -in dishonor, but raised in glory. And likewise call to mind that saying of -paracelsus about what it is that maketh the best musk. Also forget not the -strange fact that of all things of illsavor, Colognewater, in its -rudimental manufacturing stages, is the worst. I should like to conclude the -chapter with the above appeal, but cannot, owing to my anxiety to repel a -charge often made -against whalemen, and which, in the estimation of some already biased minds, -might be considered as indirectly substantiated by what has been said of the -Frenchman's two whales. Elsewhere in this volume the slanderous aspersion has -been disproved, that the vocation of whaling is throughout a slatternly, -untidy business. But there is another thing to rebut. They hint that all -whales always smell bad. Now how did this odious stigma originate? I opine, -that it is plainly traceable to the first arrival of the Greenland whaling -ships in London, more than two centuries ago. Because those whalemen did not -then, and do not now, try out their oil at sea as the Southern ships have -always done but cutting up the fresh blubber in small bits, thrust it -through the bung holes of large casks, and carry it home in that manner the -shortness of the season in those Icy Seas, and the sudden and violent storms -to which they are exposed, forbidding any other course. The consequence is, -that upon breaking into the hold, and unloading one of these whale -cemeteries, in the Greenland dock, a savor is given forth somewhat similar to -that arising from excavating an old city graveyard, for the foundations of -a Lyingin Hospital. I partly surmise also, that this wicked charge against -whalers may be likewise imputed to the existence on the coast of Greenland, -in former times, of a Dutch village called Schmerenburgh or Smeerenberg, -which latter name is the one used by the learned Fogo Von Slack, in his great -work on Smells, a textbook on that subject. As its name imports smeer, fat -berg, to put up, this village was founded in order to afford a place for -the blubber of the dutch whale fleet to be tried out, without being taken -home to Holland for that purpose. It was a collection of furnaces, -fatkettles, and oil sheds and when the works were in full operation -certainly gave forth no very pleasant savor. But all this is quite different -from a South Sea Sperm Whaler which in a voyage of four years perhaps, -after completely filling her hold with oil, does not, perhaps, consume fifty -days in the business of boiling out and in the state that it is casked, the -oil is nearly scentless. The truth is, that living or dead, if but decently -treated, whales as a species are by no -means creatures of ill odor nor can whalemen be recognised, as the people of -the middle ages affected to detect a Jew in the company, by the nose. Nor -indeed can the whale possibly be otherwise than fragrant, when, as a general -thing, he enjoys such high health taking abundance of exercise always out -of doors though, it is true, seldom in the open air. I say, that the -motion of a Sperm Whale's flukes above water dispenses a perfume, as when a -muskscented lady rustles her dress in a warm parlor. What then shall I liken -the Sperm Whale to for fragrance, considering his magnitude? Must it not be -to that famous elephant, with jewelled tusks, and redolent with myrrh, which -was led out of an Indian town to do honor to Alexander the Great? -It was but some few days after -encountering the Frenchman, that a most significant event befell the most -insignificant of the Pequod's crew an event most lamentable and which -ended in providing the sometimes madly merry and predestinated craft with a -living and ever accompanying prophecy of whatever shattered sequel might prove -her own. Now, in the whale ship, it is not every one that goes in the boats. -Some few hands are reserved called shipkeepers, whose province it is to work -the vessel while the boats are pursuing the whale. As a general thing, these -shipkeepers are as hardy fellows as the men comprising the boats' crews. But -if there happen to be an unduly slender, clumsy, or timorous wight in the -ship, that wight is certain to be made a shipkeeper. It was so in the -Pequod with the little negro Pippin by nickname, Pip by abbreviation. Poor -Pip ye have heard of him before ye must remember his tambourine on that -dramatic midnight, so gloomyjolly. -In outer aspect, Pip and DoughBoy made a match, like a black pony and a -white one, of equal developments, though of dissimilar color, driven in one -eccentric span. But while hapless DoughBoy was by nature dull and torpid in -his intellects, Pip, though over tenderhearted, was at bottom very bright, -with that pleasant, genial, jolly brightness peculiar to his tribe a tribe, -which ever enjoy all holidays and festivities with finer, freer relish than -any other race. For blacks, the year's calendar should show naught but three -hundred and sixtyfive Fourth of Julys and New Year's Days. Nor smile so, -while I write that this little black was brilliant, for even blackness has -its brilliancy behold yon lustrous ebony, panelled in king's cabinets. But -Pip loved life, and all life's peaceable securities so that the -panicstriking business in which he had somehow unaccountably become -entrapped, had most sadly blurred his brightness though, as ere long will be -seen, what was thus temporarily subdued in him, in the end was destined to -be luridly illumined by strange wild fires, that fictitiously showed him off -to ten times the natural lustre with which in his native Tolland County in -Connecticut, he had once enlivened many a fiddler's frolic on the green and -at melodious eventide, with his gay haha had turned the round horizon into -one starbelled tambourine. So, though in the clear air of day, suspended -against a blueveined neck, the purewatered diamond drop will healthful -glow yet, when the cunning jeweller would show you the diamond in its most -impressive lustre, he lays it against a gloomy ground, and then lights it -up, not by the sun, but by some unnatural gases. Then come out those fiery -effulgences, infernally superb then the evilblazing diamond, once the -divinest symbol of the crystal skies, looks like some crownjewel stolen from -the King of Hell. But let us to the story. It came to pass, that in the -ambergris affair Stubb's afteroarsman chanced so to sprain his hand, as -for a time to become quite maimed and, temporarily, Pip was put into his -place. The first time Stubb lowered with him, Pip evinced much nervousness -but happily, for that time, escaped close contact with the whale and -therefore came off not altogether discreditably though Stubb observing him, -took care, afterwards, -to exhort him to cherish his courageousness to the utmost, for he might often -find it needful. Now upon the second lowering, the boat paddled upon the -whale and as the fish received the darted iron, it gave its customary rap, -which happened, in this instance, to be right under poor Pip's seat. The -involuntary consternation of the moment caused him to leap, paddle in hand, -out of the boat and in such a way, that part of the slack whale line coming -against his chest, he breasted it overboard with him, so as to become -entangled in it, when at last plumping into the water. That instant the -stricken whale started on a fierce run, the line swiftly straightened and -presto poor Pip came all foaming up to the chocks of the boat, -remorselessly dragged there by the line, which had taken several turns around -his chest and neck. Tashtego stood in the bows. He was full of the fire of -the hunt. He hated Pip for a poltroon. Snatching the boatknife from its -sheath, he suspended its sharp edge over the line, and turning towards Stubb, -exclaimed interrogatively, cut? meantime pip's blue, choked face plainly -looked, Do, for God's sake All passed in a flash. In less than half a -minute, this entire thing happened. Damn him, cut roared Stubb and so -the whale was lost and Pip was saved. So soon as he recovered himself, the -poor little negro was assailed by yells and execrations from the crew. -Tranquilly permitting these irregular cursings to evaporate, Stubb then in a -plain, businesslike, but still half humorous manner, cursed Pip officially -and that done, unofficially gave him much wholesome advice. The substance -was, Never jump from a boat, Pip, except but all the rest was indefinite, -as the soundest advice ever is. Now, in general, Stick to the boat, is -your true motto in whaling but cases will sometimes happen when Leap -from the boat, is still better. Moreover, as if perceiving at last that if -he should give undiluted conscientious advice to Pip, he would be leaving him -too wide a margin to jump in for the future Stubb suddenly dropped all -advice, and concluded with a peremptory command, Stick to the boat, Pip, or -by the Lord, I wont pick you up if you jump mind that. We can't afford -to lose whales by the likes of you a whale would sell for thirty times what -you would, Pip, in Alabama. Bear that in mind, and don't jump any more. -Hereby perhaps Stubb indirectly hinted, that though man loved his fellow, -yet man is a moneymaking animal, which propensity too often interferes with -his benevolence. But we are all in the hands of the Gods and Pip jumped -again. It was under very similar circumstances to the first performance but -this time he did not breast out the line and hence, when the whale started -to run, Pip was left behind on the sea, like a hurried traveller's trunk. -Alas Stubb was but too true to his word. It was a beautiful, bounteous, -blue day the spangled sea calm and cool, and flatly stretching away, all -round, to the horizon, like goldbeater's skin hammered out to the extremest. -Bobbing up and down in that sea, Pip's ebon head showed like a head of cloves. -No boatknife was lifted when he fell so rapidly astern. Stubb's inexorable -back was turned upon him and the whale was winged. In three minutes, a -whole mile of shoreless ocean was between Pip and Stubb. Out from the centre -of the sea, poor Pip turned his crisp, curling, black head to the sun, -another lonely castaway, though the loftiest and the brightest. Now, in calm -weather, to swim in the open ocean is as easy to the practised swimmer as to -ride in a springcarriage ashore. But the awful lonesomeness is intolerable. -The intense concentration of self in the middle of such a heartless immensity, -my God who can tell it? Mark, how when sailors in a dead calm bathe in -the open sea mark how closely they hug their ship and only coast along her -sides. But had Stubb really abandoned the poor little negro to his fate? No -he did not mean to, at least. Because there were two boats in his wake, and -he supposed, no doubt, that they would of course come up to Pip very quickly, -and pick him up though, indeed, such considerations towards oarsmen -jeopardized through their own timidity, is not always manifested by the -hunters in all similar instances and such instances not unfrequently occur -almost invariably in the fishery, a coward, so called, is marked with the same -ruthless detestation peculiar to military navies and armies. -But it so happened, that those boats, without seeing Pip, suddenly spying -whales close to them on one side, turned, and gave chase and Stubb's boat -was now so far away, and he and all his crew so intent upon his fish, that -Pip's ringed horizon began to expand around him miserably. By the merest -chance the ship itself at last rescued him but from that hour the little -negro went about the deck an idiot such, at least, they said he was. The -sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his -soul. Not drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous -depths, where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro -before his passive eyes and the misermerman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded -heaps and among the joyous, heartless, everjuvenile eternities, Pip saw the -multitudinous, Godomnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of -waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God's foot upon the treadle of the -loom, and spoke it and therefore his shipmates called him mad. So man's -insanity is heaven's sense and wandering from all mortal reason, man comes -at last to that celestial thought, which, to reason, is absurd and frantic -and weal or woe, feels then uncompromised, indifferent as his God. For the -rest, blame not Stubb too hardly. The thing is common in that fishery and -in the sequel of the narrative, it will then be seen what like abandonment -befell myself. -That whale of Stubb's so dearly -purchased, was duly brought to the Pequod's side, where all those cutting and -hoisting operations previously detailed, were regularly gone through, even to -the baling of the Heidelburgh Tun, or Case. While some were occupied with -this latter duty, others were employed in dragging away the larger tubs, so -soon as filled with the sperm and when the proper time arrived, this same -sperm was carefully manipulated ere going to the tryworks, of which anon. It -had cooled and crystallized to such a degree, that when, with several others, -I sat down before a large Constantine's bath of it, I found it strangely -concreted into lumps, here and there rolling about in the liquid part. It -was our business to squeeze these lumps back into fluid. A sweet and unctuous -duty no wonder that in old times this sperm was such a favorite cosmetic. -Such a clearer such a sweetener such a softener such a delicious -mollifier After having my hands in it for only a few minutes, my fingers -felt like eels, and began, as it were, to serpentine and spiralize. As I sat -there at my ease, crosslegged on the deck after the bitter exertion at the -windlass under a blue tranquil sky the ship under indolent sail, and -gliding so serenely along as I bathed my hands among those soft, gentle -globules of infiltrated tissues, woven almost within the hour as they richly -broke to my fingers, and discharged all their opulence, like fully ripe -grapes their wine as I snuffed up that uncontaminated aroma, literally and -truly, like the smell of spring violets I declare to you, that for the -time I lived as in a musky meadow I forgot all about our horrible oath in -that inexpressible sperm, I washed my hands and my heart of it I almost -began to credit the old Paracelsan superstition that sperm is of rare virtue -in allaying the heat of anger while bathing in that bath, I felt divinely -free from all illwill, or petulence, or malice, of any sort whatsoever. -Squeeze squeeze squeeze all the morning long I squeezed that sperm till -I myself almost melted into it I squeezed that sperm till a strange sort of -insanity came over me and I found myself unwittingly squeezing my -colaborers' hands in it, mistaking their hands for the gentle globules. Such -an abounding, affectionate, friendly, loving feeling did this avocation beget -that at last I was continually squeezing their hands, and looking up into -their eyes sentimentally as much as to say, Oh my dear fellow beings, why -should we longer cherish any social acerbities, or know the slightest -illhumor or envy Come let us squeeze hands all round nay, let us all -squeeze ourselves -into each other let us squeeze ourselves universally into the very milk and -sperm of kindness. Would that I could keep squeezing that sperm for ever For -now, since by many prolonged, repeated experiences, I have perceived that in -all cases man must eventually lower, or at least shift, his conceit of -attainable felicity not placing it anywhere in the intellect or the fancy -but in the wife, the heart, the bed, the table, the saddle, the fireside, -the country now that I have perceived all this, I am ready to squeeze case -eternally. In thoughts of the visions of the night, I saw long rows of -angels in paradise, each with his hands in a jar of spermaceti. Now, while -discoursing of sperm, it behooves to speak of other things akin to it, in the -business of preparing the sperm whale for the tryworks. First comes -whitehorse, so called, which is obtained from the tapering part of the fish, -and also from the thicker portions of his flukes. It is tough with congealed -tendons a wad of muscle but still contains some oil. After being severed -from the whale, the whitehorse is first cut into portable oblongs ere going -to the mincer. They look much like blocks of Berkshire marble. Plumpudding -is the term bestowed upon certain fragmentary parts of the whale's flesh, here -and there adhering to the blanket of blubber, and often participating to a -considerable degree in its unctuousness. It is a most refreshing, convivial, -beautiful object to behold. As its name imports, it is of an exceedingly -rich, mottled tint, with a bestreaked snowy and golden ground, dotted with -spots of the deepest crimson and purple. It is plums of rubies, in pictures -of citron. Spite of reason, it is hard to keep yourself from eating it. I -confess, that once I stole behind the foremast to try it. It tasted something -as I should conceive a royal cutlet from the thigh of Louis le Gros might -have tasted, supposing him to have been killed the first day after the venison -season, and that particular venison season contemporary with an unusually -fine vintage of the vineyards of Champagne. -There is another substance, and a very singular one, which turns up in the -course of this business, but which I feel it to be very puzzling adequately -to describe. It is called slobgollion an appellation original with the -whalemen, and even so is the nature of the substance. It is an ineffably -oozy, stringy affair, most frequently found in the tubs of sperm, after a -prolonged squeezing, and subsequent decanting. I hold it to be the -wondrously thin, ruptured membranes of the case, coalescing. Gurry, so -called, is a term properly belonging to right whalemen, but sometimes -incidentally used by the sperm fishermen. It designates the dark, glutinous -substance which is scraped off the back of the Greenland or right whale, and -much of which covers the decks of those inferior souls who hunt that ignoble -Leviathan. Nippers. Strictly this word is not indigenous to the whale's -vocabulary. But as applied by whalemen, it becomes so. A whaleman's nipper -is a short firm strip of tendinous stuff cut from the tapering part of -Leviathan's tail it averages an inch in thickness, and for the rest, is -about the size of the iron part of a hoe. Edgewise moved along the oily deck, -it operates like a leathern squilgee and by nameless blandishments, as of -magic, allures along with it all impurities. But to learn all about these -recondite matters, your best way is at once to descend into the blubberroom, -and have a long talk with its inmates. This place has previously been -mentioned as the receptacle for the blanketpieces, when stript and hoisted -from the whale. When the proper time arrives for cutting up its contents, -this apartment is a scene of terror to all tyros, especially by night. On one -side, lit by a dull lantern, a space has been left clear for the workmen. -They generally go in pairs, a pikeandgaffman and a spademan. The -whalingpike is similar to a frigate's boardingweapon of the same name. The -gaff is something like a boathook. With his gaff, the gaffman hooks on to a -sheet of blubber, and strives to hold it from slipping, as the ship pitches -and lurches about. Meanwhile, the spademan stands on the sheet itself, -perpendicularly chopping it into the portable horsepieces. This spade is -sharp as hone can make it the spademan's feet are shoeless the thing -he stands on will sometimes irresistibly slide away from him, like a sledge. -If he cuts off one of his own toes, or one of his assistants', would you be -very much astonished? Toes are scarce among veteran blubberroom men. -Had you stepped on board the Pequod at a -certain juncture of this postmortemizing of the whale and had you strolled -forward nigh the windlass, pretty sure am I that you would have scanned with -no small curiosity a very strange, enigmatical object, which you would have -seen there, lying along lengthwise in the lee scuppers. Not the wondrous -cistern in the whale's huge head not the prodigy of his unhinged lower jaw -not the miracle of his symmetrical tail none of these would so surprise you, -as half a glimpse of that unaccountable cone, longer than a Kentuckian is -tall, nigh a foot in diameter at the base, and jetblack as Yojo, the ebony -idol of Queequeg. And an idol, indeed, it is or, rather, in old times, its -likeness was. Such an idol as that found in the secret groves of Queen -Maachah in Judea and for worshipping which, king Asa, her son, did depose -her, and destroyed the idol, and burnt it for an abomination at the brook -Kedron, as darkly set forth in the th chapter of the first book of Kings. -Look at the sailor, called the mincer, who now comes along, and assisted by -two allies, heavily backs the grandissimus, as the mariners call it, and -with bowed shoulders, staggers off with it as if he were a grenadier carrying -a dead comrade from the field. extending it upon the forecastle deck, he now -proceeds cylindrically to remove its dark pelt, as an African hunter the -pelt of a boa. This done he turns the pelt inside out, like a pantaloon leg -gives it a good stretching, so as almost to double its diameter and at last -hangs it, well spread, in the -rigging, to dry. Ere long, it is taken down when removing some three feet -of it, towards the pointed extremity, and then cutting two slits for -armholes at the other end, he lengthwise slips himself bodily into it. The -mincer now stands before you invested in the full canonicals of his calling. -Immemorial to all his order, this investiture alone will adequately protect -him, while employed in the peculiar functions of his office. That office -consists in mincing the horsepieces of blubber for the pots an operation -which is conducted at a curious wooden horse, planted endwise against the -bulwarks, and with a capacious tub beneath it, into which the minced pieces -drop, fast as the sheets from a rapt orator's desk. Arrayed in decent black -occupying a conspicuous pulpit intent on bible leaves what a candidate for -an archbishoprick, what a lad for a Pope were this mincer -Bible leaves Bible leaves This is the invariable cry from the mates to -the mincer. It enjoins him to be careful, and cut his work into as thin -slices as possible, inasmuch as by so doing the business of boiling out the -oil is much accelerated, and its quantity considerably increased, besides -perhaps improving it in quality. -Besides her hoisted boats, an American -whaler is outwardly distinguished by her tryworks. She presents the curious -anomaly of the most solid masonry joining with oak and hemp in constituting -the completed ship. it is as if from the open field a brickkiln were -transported to her planks. The tryworks are planted between the foremast and -mainmast, the most roomy part of the deck. The timbers beneath are of a -peculiar strength, fitted to sustain the weight of an almost solid mass of -brick and mortar, some ten feet by eight square, and five in height. The -foundation does not penetrate the deck, but the masonry is firmly secured to -the surface by -ponderous knees of iron bracing it on all sides, and screwing it down to the -timbers. On the flanks it is cased with wood, and at top completely covered -by a large, sloping, battened hatchway. Removing this hatch we expose the -great trypots, two in number, and each of several barrels' capacity. When -not in use, they are kept remarkably clean. Sometimes they are polished -with soapstone and sand, till they shine within like silver punchbowls. -During the nightwatches some cynical old sailors will crawl into them and -coil themselves away there for a nap. While employed in polishing them one -man in each pot, side by side many confidential communications are carried -on, over the iron lips. It is a place also for profound mathematical -meditation. It was in the left hand trypot of the Pequod, with the -soapstone diligently circling round me, that I was first indirectly struck by -the remarkable fact, that in geometry all bodies gliding along the cycloid, -my soapstone for example, will descend from any point in precisely the same -time. Removing the fireboard from the front of the tryworks, the bare -masonry of that side is exposed, penetrated by the two iron mouths of the -furnaces, directly underneath the pots. These mouths are fitted with heavy -doors of iron. The intense heat of the fire is prevented from communicating -itself to the deck, by means of a shallow reservoir extending under the entire -inclosed surface of the works. By a tunnel inserted at the rear, this -reservoir is kept replenished with water as fast as it evaporates. There are -no external chimneys they open direct from the rear wall. And here let us -go back for a moment. It was about nine o'clock at night that the Pequod's -tryworks were first started on this present voyage. It belonged to Stubb to -oversee the business. All ready there? Off hatch, then, and start her. You -cook, fire the works. This was an easy thing, for the carpenter had been -thrusting his shavings into the furnace throughout the passage. Here be it -said that in a whaling voyage the first fire in the tryworks has to be fed -for a time with wood. After that no wood is used, except as a means of quick -ignition to the staple fuel. In a word, after being tried out, the crisp, -shrivelled -blubber, now called scraps or fritters, still contains considerable of its -unctuous properties. These fritters feed the flames. Like a plethoric -burning martyr, or a selfconsuming misanthrope, once ignited, the whale -supplies his own fuel and burns by his own body. Would that he consumed his -own smoke for his smoke is horrible to inhale, and inhale it you must, and -not only that, but you must live in it for the time. It has an unspeakable, -wild, Hindoo odor about it, such as may lurk in the vicinity of funereal -pyres. It smells like the left wing of the day of judgment it is an argument -for the pit. By midnight the works were in full operation. We were clear -from the carcase sail had been made the wind was freshening the wild -ocean darkness was intense. But that darkness was licked up by the fierce -flames, which at intervals forked forth from the sooty flues, and -illuminated every lofty rope in the rigging, as with the famed Greek fire. -The burning ship drove on, as if remorselessly commissioned to some vengeful -deed. So the pitch and sulphurfreighted brigs of the bold Hydriote, Canaris, -issuing from their midnight harbors, with broad sheets of flame for sails, -bore down upon the turkish frigates, and folded them in conflagrations. The -hatch, removed from the top of the works, now afforded a wide hearth in front -of them. Standing on this were the Tartarean shapes of the pagan harpooneers, -always the whaleship's stokers. With huge pronged poles they pitched -hissing masses of blubber into the scalding pots, or stirred up the fires -beneath, till the snaky flames darted, curling, out of the doors to catch -them by the feet. The smoke rolled away in sullen heaps. To every pitch of -the ship there was a pitch of the boiling oil, which seemed all eagerness to -leap into their faces. Opposite the mouth of the works, on the further side -of the wide wooden hearth, was the windlass. This served for a seasofa. -Here lounged the watch, when not otherwise employed, looking into the red -heat of the fire, till their eyes felt scorched in their heads. Their tawny -features, now all begrimed with smoke and sweat, their matted beards, and -the contrasting barbaric brilliancy of their teeth, all these were strangely -revealed in the capricious emblazonings of the works. As they -narrated to each other their unholy adventures, their tales of terror told in -words of mirth as their uncivilized laughter forked upwards out of them, -like the flames from the furnace as to and fro, in their front, the -harpooneers wildly gesticulated with their huge pronged forks and dippers as -the wind howled on, and the sea leaped, and the ship groaned and dived, and -yet steadfastly shot her red hell further and further into the blackness of -the sea and the night, and scornfully champed the white bone in her mouth, -and viciously spat round her on all sides then the rushing Pequod, freighted -with savages, and laden with fire, and burning a corpse, and plunging into -that blackness of darkness, seemed the material counterpart of her -monomaniac commander's soul. So seemed it to me, as I stood at her helm, -and for long hours silently guided the way of this fireship on the sea. -Wrapped, for that interval, in darkness myself, I but the better saw the -redness, the madness, the ghastliness of others. The continual sight of the -fiend shapes before me, capering half in smoke and half in fire, these at -last begat kindred visions in my soul, so soon as I began to yield to that -unaccountable drowsiness which ever would come over me at a midnight helm. -But that night, in particular, a strange and ever since inexplicable -thing occurred to me. Starting from a brief standing sleep, I was horribly -conscious of something fatally wrong. The jawbone tiller smote my side, -which leaned against it in my ears was the low hum of sails, just beginning -to shake in the wind I thought my eyes were open I was half conscious of -putting my fingers to the lids and mechanically stretching them still further -apart. But, spite of all this, I could see no compass before me to steer by -though it seemed but a minute since I had been watching the card, by the -steady binnacle lamp illuminating it. Nothing seemed before me but a jet -gloom, now and then made ghastly by flashes of redness. Uppermost was the -impression, that whatever swift, rushing thing I stood on was not so much -bound to any haven ahead as rushing from all havens astern. A stark, -bewildered feeling, as of death, came over me. Convulsively my hands grasped -the tiller, but with the crazy conceit that the tiller was, somehow, -in some enchanted way, inverted. My God what is the matter with me? thought -I. Lo in my brief sleep I had turned myself about, and was fronting the -ship's stern, with my back to her prow and the compass. In an instant I faced -back, just in time to prevent the vessel from flying up into the wind, and -very probably capsizing her. How glad and how grateful the relief from this -unnatural hallucination of the night, and the fatal contingency of being -brought by the lee look not too long in the face of the fire, O man Never -dream with thy hand on the helm Turn not thy back to the compass accept -the first hint of the hitching tiller believe not the artificial fire, when -its redness makes all things look ghastly. Tomorrow, in the natural sun, -the skies will be bright those who glared like devils in the forking flames, -the morn will show in far other, at least gentler, relief the glorious, -golden, glad sun, the only true lamp all others but liars Nevertheless the -sun hides not Virginia's Dismal Swamp, nor Rome's accursed Campagna, nor wide -Sahara, nor all the millions of miles of deserts and of griefs beneath the -moon. The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, -and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who -hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true not true, -or undeveloped. With books the same. The truest of all men was the Man of -Sorrows, and the truest of all books is Solomon's, and Ecclesiastes is the -fine hammered steel of woe. All is vanity. ALL. This wilful world hath -not got hold of unchristian Solomon's wisdom yet. But he who dodges hospitals -and jails, and walks fast crossing graveyards, and would rather talk of -operas than hell calls Cowper, Young, Pascal, Rousseau, poor devils all of -sick men and throughout a carefree lifetime swears by Rabelais as passing -wise, and therefore jolly not that man is fitted to sit down on -tombstones, and break the green damp mould with unfathomably wondrous -Solomon. But even Solomon, he says, the man that wandereth out of the way -of understanding shall remain i. e. even while living in the congregation -of the dead. Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, -deaden thee as for the time it did me. -There is a wisdom that is woe but there is a woe that is madness. And there -is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest -gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. -And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the -mountains so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still -higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar. -Had you descended from the Pequod's -tryworks to the Pequod's forecastle, where the off duty watch were sleeping, -for one single moment you would have almost thought you were standing in -some illuminated shrine of canonized kings and counsellors. There they lay in -their triangular oaken vaults, each mariner a chiselled muteness a score of -lamps flashing upon his hooded eyes. In merchantmen, oil for the sailor is -more scarce than the milk of queens. To dress in the dark, and eat in the -dark, and stumble in darkness to his pallet, this is his usual lot. But the -whaleman, as he seeks the food of light, so he lives in light. He makes his -berth an Aladdin's lamp, and lays him down in it so that in the pitchiest -night the ship's black hull still houses an illumination. See with what -entire freedom the whaleman takes his handful of lamps often but old bottles -and vials, though to the copper cooler at the tryworks, and replenishes -them there, as mugs of ale at a vat. He burns, too, the purest of oil, in -its unmanufactured, and, therefore, unvitiated state a fluid unknown to -solar, lunar, or astral contrivances ashore. It is sweet as early grass -butter in April. He goes and hunts for his oil, so as to be sure of its -freshness and genuineness, even as the traveller on the prairie hunts up his -own supper of game. -Already has it been -related how the great leviathan is afar off descried from the masthead how -he is chased over the watery moors, and slaughtered in the valleys of the -deep how he is then towed alongside and beheaded and how on the -principle which entitled the headsman of old to the garments in which the -beheaded was killed his great padded surtout becomes the property of his -executioner how, in due time, he is condemned to the pots, and, like -Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, his spermaceti, oil, and bone pass unscathed -through the fire but now it remains to conclude the last chapter of this -part of the description by rehearsing singing, if I may the romantic -proceeding of decanting off his oil into the casks and striking them down into -the hold, where once again leviathan returns to his native profundities, -sliding along beneath the surface as before but, alas never more to rise -and blow. While still warm, the oil, like hot punch, is received into the -sixbarrel casks and while, perhaps, the ship is pitching and rolling this -way and that in the midnight sea, the enormous casks are slewed round and -headed over, end for end, and sometimes perilously scoot across the slippery -deck, like so many land slides, till at last manhandled and stayed in their -course and all round the hoops, rap, rap, go as many hammers as can play -upon them, for now, ex officio, every sailor is a cooper. At length, when -the last pint is casked, and all is cool, then the great hatchways are -unsealed, the bowels of the ship are thrown open, and down go the casks to -their final rest in the sea. This done, the hatches are replaced, and -hermetically closed, like a closet walled up. In the sperm fishery, this is -perhaps one of the most remarkable incidents in all the business of whaling. -One day the planks stream with freshets of blood and oil on the sacred -quarterdeck enormous masses of the whale's head are profanely piled great -rusty casks lie about, as in a brewery yard the smoke from the tryworks has -besooted all the bulwarks the mariners go about suffused with unctuousness -the entire ship seems great leviathan himself while on all hands the din is -deafening. But a day or two after, you look about you, and prick your ears -in this selfsame ship and were it not for the telltale boats and -tryworks, you would all but swear you trod some silent merchant vessel, -with a most scrupulously neat commander. The unmanufactured sperm oil -possesses a singularly cleansing virtue. This is the reason why the decks -never look so white as just after what they call an affair of oil. Besides, -from the ashes of the burned scraps of the whale, a potent ley is readily -made and whenever any adhesiveness from the back of the whale remains -clinging to the side, that ley quickly exterminates it. Hands go diligently -along the bulwarks, and with buckets of water and rags restore them to their -full tidiness. The soot is brushed from the lower rigging. All the numerous -implements which have been in use are likewise faithfully cleansed and put -away. The great hatch is scrubbed and placed upon the tryworks, completely -hiding the pots every cask is out of sight all tackles are coiled in -unseen nooks and when by the combined and simultaneous industry of almost -the entire ship's company, the whole of this conscientious duty is at last -concluded, then the crew themselves proceed to their own ablutions shift -themselves from top to toe and finally issue to the immaculate deck, fresh -and all aglow, as bridegrooms newleaped from out the daintiest Holland. Now, -with elated step, they pace the planks in twos and threes, and humorously -discourse of parlors, sofas, carpets, and fine cambrics propose to mat the -deck think of having hangings to the top object not to taking tea by -moonlight on the piazza of the forecastle. To hint to such musked mariners of -oil, and bone, and blubber, were little short of audacity. They know not the -thing you distantly allude to. Away, and bring us napkins But mark aloft -there, at the three mast heads, stand three -men intent on spying out more whales, which, if caught, infallibly will again -soil the old oaken furniture, and drop at least one small greasespot -somewhere. Yes and many is the time, when, after the severest uninterrupted -labors, which know no night continuing straight through for ninetysix -hours when from the boat, where they have swelled their wrists with all day -rowing on the Line, they only step to the deck to carry vast chains, and -heave the heavy windlass, and cut and slash, yea, and in their very -sweatings to be smoked and burned anew by the combined fires of the equatorial -sun and the equatorial tryworks when, on the heel of all this, they have -finally bestirred themselves to cleanse the ship, and make a spotless dairy -room of it many is the time the poor fellows, just buttoning the necks of -their clean frocks, are startled by the cry of There she blows and away -they fly to fight another whale, and go through the whole weary thing again. -Oh my friends, but this is mankilling Yet this is life. For hardly have -we mortals by long toilings extracted from the world's vast bulk its small but -valuable sperm and then, with weary patience, cleansed ourselves from its -defilements, and learned to live here in clean tabernacles of the soul -hardly is this done, when There she blows the ghost is spouted up, and -away we sail to fight some other world, and go through young life's old -routine again. Oh the metempsychosis Oh Pythagoras, that in bright -Greece, two thousand years ago, did die, so good, so wise, so mild I -sailed with thee along the Peruvian coast last voyage and, foolish as I am, -taught thee, a green simple boy, how to splice a rope -Ere now it has been related how Ahab was -wont to pace his quarterdeck, taking regular turns at either limit, the -binnacle -and mainmast but in the multiplicity of other things requiring narration it -has not been added how that sometimes in these walks, when most plunged in -his mood, he was wont to pause in turn at each spot, and stand there -strangely eyeing the particular object before him. When he halted before the -binnacle, with his glance fastened on the pointed needle in the compass, that -glance shot like a javelin with the pointed intensity of his purpose and -when resuming his walk he again paused before the mainmast, then, as the same -riveted glance fastened upon the riveted gold coin there, he still wore the -same aspect of nailed firmness, only dashed with a certain wild longing, if -not hopefulness. But one morning, turning to pass the doubloon, he seemed -to be newly attracted by the strange figures and inscriptions stamped on it, -as though now for the first time beginning to interpret for himself in some -monomaniac way whatever significance might lurk in them. And some certain -significance lurks in all things, else all things are little worth, and the -round world itself but an empty cipher, except to sell by the cartload, as -they do hills about Boston, to fill up some morass in the Milky Way. Now -this doubloon was of purest, virgin gold, raked somewhere out of the heart of -gorgeous hills, whence, east and west, over golden sands, the headwaters of -many a Pactolus flows. And though now nailed amidst all the rustiness of iron -bolts and the verdigris of copper spikes, yet, untouchable and immaculate to -any foulness, it still preserved its Quito glow. Nor, though placed amongst -a ruthless crew and every hour passed by ruthless hands, and through the -livelong nights shrouded with thick darkness which might cover any pilfering -approach, nevertheless every sunrise found the doubloon where the sunset left -it last. For it was set apart and sanctified to one awestriking end and -however wanton in their sailor ways, one and all, the mariners revered it as -the white whale's talisman. Sometimes they talked it over in the weary watch -by night, wondering whose it was to be at last, and whether he would ever -live to spend it. Now those noble golden coins of South America are as -medals of the sun and tropic tokenpieces. Here palms, alpacas, and -volcanoes sun's disks and stars ecliptics, hornsofplenty, and rich -banners waving, are in luxuriant profusion stamped so that the precious gold -seems almost to derive an added preciousness and enhancing glories, by -passing through those fancy mints, so Spanishly poetic. It so chanced that -the doubloon of the Pequod was a most wealthy example of these things. On its -round border it bore the letters, REPUBLICA DEL ECUADOR QUITO. So this -bright coin came from a country planted in the middle of the world, and -beneath the great equator, and named after it and it had been cast midway -up the Andes, in the unwaning clime that knows no autumn. Zoned by those -letters you saw the likeness of three Andes' summits from one a flame a -tower on another on the third a crowing cock while arching over all was a -segment of the partitioned zodiac, the signs all marked with their usual -cabalistics, and the keystone sun entering the equinoctial point at Libra. -Before this equatorial coin, Ahab, not unobserved by others, was now pausing. -There's something ever egotistical in mountaintops and towers, and all -other grand and lofty things look here, three peaks as proud as Lucifer. -The firm tower, that is Ahab the volcano, that is Ahab the courageous, the -undaunted, and victorious fowl, that, too, is Ahab all are Ahab and this -round gold is but the image of the rounder globe, which, like a magician's -glass, to each and every man in turn but mirrors back his own mysterious -self. Great pains, small gains for those who ask the world to solve them it -cannot solve itself. Methinks now this coined sun wears a ruddy face but -see aye, he enters the sign of storms, the equinox and but six months -before he wheeled out of a former equinox at Aries From storm to storm So -be it, then. Born in throes, 't is fit that man should live in pains and die -in pangs So be it, then Here's stout stuff for woe to work on. So be it, -then. No fairy fingers can have pressed the gold, but devil's claws must -have left their mouldings there since yesterday, murmured Starbuck to -himself, leaning against the bulwarks. The old -man seems to read Belshazzar's awful writing. I have never marked the coin -inspectingly. He goes below let me read. A dark valley between three -mighty, heavenabiding peaks, that almost seem the Trinity, in some faint -earthly symbol. So in this vale of Death, God girds us round and over all -our gloom, the sun of Righteousness still shines a beacon and a hope. If we -bend down our eyes, the dark vale shows her mouldy soil but if we lift them, -the bright sun meets our glance half way, to cheer. Yet, oh, the great sun -is no fixture and if, at midnight, we would fain snatch some sweet solace -from him, we gaze for him in vain This coin speaks wisely, mildly, truly, -but still sadly to me. I will quit it, lest Truth shake me falsely. There -now's the old Mogul, soliloquized Stubb by the tryworks, he's been twigging -it and there goes Starbuck from the same, and both with faces which I -should say might be somewhere within nine fathoms long. And all from looking -at a piece of gold, which did I have it now on Negro Hill or in Corlaer's -Hook, I'd not look at it very long ere spending it. Humph in my poor, -insignificant opinion, I regard this as queer. I have seen doubloons before -now in my voyagings your doubloons of old Spain, your doubloons of Peru, -your doubloons of Chili, your doubloons of Bolivia, your doubloons of -Popayan with plenty of gold moidores and pistoles, and joes, and half joes, -and quarter joes. what then should there be in this doubloon of the Equator -that is so killing wonderful? By Golconda let me read it once. Halloa -here's signs and wonders truly That, now, is what old Bowditch in his -Epitome calls the zodiac, and what my almanack below calls ditto. I'll get -the almanack and as I have heard devils can be raised with Daboll's -arithmetic, I'll try my hand at raising a meaning out of these queer -curvicues here with the Massachusetts calendar. Here's the book. Let's see -now. Signs and wonders and the sun, he's always among 'em. Hem, hem, hem -here they are here they go all alive Aries, or the Ram Taurus, or the -Bull and Jimimi here's Gemini himself, or the Twins. Well the sun he -wheels among 'em. Aye, here on the coin he's just crossing the threshold -between two of twelve sittingrooms all in a ring. Book you lie there the -fact is, you books must know your -places. You'll do to give us the bare words and facts, but we come in to -supply the thoughts. That's my small experience, so far as the Massachusetts -calendar, and Bowditch's navigator, and Daboll's arithmetic go. Signs and -wonders, eh? Pity if there is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in -wonders There's a clue somewhere wait a bit histhark By Jove, I have -it Look you, Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round -chapter and now I'll read it off, straight out of the book. Come, Almanack -To begin there's Aries, or the Ram lecherous dog, he begets us then, -Taurus, or the Bull he bumps us the first thing then Gemini, or the Twins -that is, Virtue and Vice we try to reach Virtue, when lo comes Cancer -the Crab, and drags us back and here, going from Virtue, Leo, a roaring -Lion, lies in the path he gives a few fierce bites and surly dabs with his -paw we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin that's our first love we marry -and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes Libra, or the Scales happiness -weighed and found wanting and while we are very sad about that, Lord how -we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the Scorpion, stings us in rear we are -curing the wound, when whang come the arrows all round Sagittarius, or the -Archer, is amusing himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside here's -the batteringram, Capricornus, or the Goat full tilt, he comes rushing, and -headlong we are tossed when Aquarius, or the Waterbearer, pours out his -whole deluge and drowns us and to wind up with Pisces, or the Fishes, we -sleep. There's a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the sun goes through -it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and hearty. Jollily he, -aloft there, wheels through toil and trouble and so, alow here, does jolly -Stubb. Oh, jolly's the word for aye Adieu, Doubloon But stop here comes -little KingPost dodge round the tryworks, now, and let's hear what he'll -have to say. There he's before it he'll out with something presently. So, -so he's beginning. I see nothing here, but a round thing made of gold, -and whoever raises a certain whale, this round thing belongs to him. So, -what's all this staring been about? It is worth sixteen dollars, that's true -and at two cents the cigar, that's nine hundred and -sixty cigars. I wont smoke dirty pipes like Stubb, but I like cigars, and -here's nine hundred and sixty of them so here goes Flask aloft to spy 'em -out. Shall I call that wise or foolish, now if it be really wise it has a -foolish look to it yet, if it be really foolish, then has it a sort of -wiseish look to it. But, avast here comes our old Manxman the old -hearsedriver, he must have been, that is, before he took to the sea. He -luffs up before the doubloon halloa, and goes round on the other side of the -mast why, there's a horseshoe nailed on that side and now he's back -again what does that mean? Hark he's muttering voice like an old -wornout coffeemill. Prick ears, and listen If the White Whale be -raised, it must be in a month and a day, when the sun stands in some one of -these signs. I've studied signs, and know their marks they were taught me -two score years ago, by the old witch in Copenhagen. Now, in what sign will -the sun then be? The horseshoe sign for there it is, right opposite the -gold. And what's the horseshoe sign? The lion is the horseshoe sign the -roaring and devouring lion. Ship, old ship my old head shakes to think of -thee. There's another rendering now but still one text. All sorts of men -in one kind of world, you see. Dodge again here comes Queequeg all -tattooing looks like the signs of the Zodiac himself. What says the -Cannibal? As I live he's comparing notes looking at his thigh bone thinks -the sun is in the thigh, or in the calf, or in the bowels, I suppose, as -the old women talk Surgeon's Astronomy in the back country. And by Jove, he's -found something there in the vicinity of his thigh I guess it's Sagittarius, -or the Archer. No he don't know what to make of the doubloon he takes it -for an old button off some king's trowsers. But, aside again here comes -that ghostdevil, Fedallah tail coiled out of sight as usual, oakum in the -toes of his pumps as usual. What does he say, with that look of his? Ah, -only makes a sign to the sign and bows himself there is a sun on the coin -fire worshipper, depend upon it. Ho more and more. This way comes Pip -poor boy would he had died, or I he's half horrible to me. He too has -been watching all of these interpreters myself included and look now, he -comes to read, -with that unearthly idiot face. stand away again and hear him. hark I -look, you look, he looks we look, ye look, they look. Upon my soul, -he's been studying Murray's Grammar Improving his mind, poor fellow But -what's that he says now hist I look, you look, he looks we look, ye -look, they look. Why, he's getting it by heart hist again. I look, -you look, he looks we look, ye look, they look. Well, that's funny. -And I, you, and he and we, ye, and they, are all bats and I'm a crow, -especially when I stand a'top of this pine tree here. Caw caw caw caw caw -caw Ain't I a crow? And where's the scarecrow? There he stands two -bones stuck into a pair of old trowsers, and two more poked into the sleeves -of an old jacket. Wonder if he means me? complimentary poor lad I -could go hang myself. Any way, for the present, I'll quit Pip's vicinity. -I can stand the rest, for they have plain wits but he's too crazywitty -for my sanity. So, so, I leave him muttering. Here's the ship's navel, -this doubloon here, and they are all on fire to unscrew it. But, unscrew -your navel, and what's the consequence? Then again, if it stays here, that -is ugly, too, for when aught's nailed to the mast it's a sign that things grow -desperate. Ha, ha old Ahab the White Whale he'll nail ye This is a -pine tree. My father, in old Tolland county, cut down a pine tree once, and -found a silver ring grown over in it some old darkey's wedding ring. How -did it get there? And so they'll say in the resurrection, when they come to -fish up this old mast, and find a doubloon lodged in it, with bedded oysters -for the shaggy bark. Oh, the gold the precious, precious gold the green -miser 'll hoard ye soon Hish hish God goes 'mong the worlds -blackberrying. Cook ho, cook and cook us Jenny hey, hey, hey, hey, -hey, Jenny, Jenny and get your hoecake done -The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas - in our series by Alexandre Dumas [Pere] -Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check -the copyright laws for your country before posting these files -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. 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Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg -Association / CarnegieMellon University". -ENDTHE SMALL PRINT FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTSVer...END -The Count of Monte Cristo -by Alexandre Dumas [Pere] -Chapter -Marseilles The Arrival. -On the th of February, , the lookout at NotreDame de -la Garde signalled the threemaster, the Pharaon from -Smyrna, Trieste, and Naples. -As usual, a pilot put off immediately, and rounding the -Chateau d'If, got on board the vessel between Cape Morgion -and Rion island. -Immediately, and according to custom, the ramparts of Fort -SaintJean were covered with spectators it is always an -event at Marseilles for a ship to come into port, especially -when this ship, like the Pharaon, has been built, rigged, -and laden at the old Phocee docks, and belongs to an owner -of the city. -The ship drew on and had safely passed the strait, which -some volcanic shock has made between the Calasareigne and -Jaros islands had doubled Pomegue, and approached the -harbor under topsails, jib, and spanker, but so slowly and -sedately that the idlers, with that instinct which is the -forerunner of evil, asked one another what misfortune could -have happened on board. However, those experienced in -navigation saw plainly that if any accident had occurred, it -was not to the vessel herself, for she bore down with all -the evidence of being skilfully handled, the anchor -acockbill, the jibboom guys already eased off, and -standing by the side of the pilot, who was steering the -Pharaon towards the narrow entrance of the inner port, was a -young man, who, with activity and vigilant eye, watched -every motion of the ship, and repeated each direction of the -pilot. -The vague disquietude which prevailed among the spectators -had so much affected one of the crowd that he did not await -the arrival of the vessel in harbor, but jumping into a -small skiff, desired to be pulled alongside the Pharaon, -which he reached as she rounded into La Reserve basin. -When the young man on board saw this person approach, he -left his station by the pilot, and, hat in hand, leaned over -the ship's bulwarks. -He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow of eighteen or -twenty, with black eyes, and hair as dark as a raven's wing -and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and -resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to -contend with danger. -"Ah, is it you, Dantes?" cried the man in the skiff. "What's -the matter? and why have you such an air of sadness aboard?" -"A great misfortune, M. Morrel," replied the young man, -"a great misfortune, for me especially Off Civita Vecchia -we lost our brave Captain Leclere." -"And the cargo?" inquired the owner, eagerly. -"Is all safe, M. Morrel and I think you will be satisfied -on that head. But poor Captain Leclere " -"What happened to him?" asked the owner, with an air of -considerable resignation. "What happened to the worthy -captain?" -"He died." -"Fell into the sea?" -"No, sir, he died of brainfever in dreadful agony." Then -turning to the crew, he said, "Bear a hand there, to take in -sail" -All hands obeyed, and at once the eight or ten seamen who -composed the crew, sprang to their respective stations at -the spanker brails and outhaul, topsail sheets and halyards, -the jib downhaul, and the topsail clewlines and buntlines. -The young sailor gave a look to see that his orders were -promptly and accurately obeyed, and then turned again to the -owner. -"And how did this misfortune occur?" inquired the latter, -resuming the interrupted conversation. -"Alas, sir, in the most unexpected manner. After a long talk -with the harbormaster, Captain Leclere left Naples greatly -disturbed in mind. In twentyfour hours he was attacked by a -fever, and died three days afterwards. We performed the -usual burial service, and he is at his rest, sewn up in his -hammock with a thirtysix pound shot at his head and his -heels, off El Giglio island. We bring to his widow his sword -and cross of honor. It was worth while, truly," added the -young man with a melancholy smile, "to make war against the -English for ten years, and to die in his bed at last, like -everybody else." -"Why, you see, Edmond," replied the owner, who appeared more -comforted at every moment, "we are all mortal, and the old -must make way for the young. If not, why, there would be no -promotion and since you assure me that the cargo " -"Is all safe and sound, M. Morrel, take my word for it and -I advise you not to take , francs for the profits of -the voyage." -Then, as they were just passing the Round Tower, the young -man shouted "Stand by there to lower the topsails and jib -brail up the spanker" -The order was executed as promptly as it would have been on -board a manofwar. -"Let go and clue up" At this last command all the sails -were lowered, and the vessel moved almost imperceptibly -onwards. -"Now, if you will come on board, M. Morrel," said Dantes, -observing the owner's impatience, "here is your supercargo, -M. Danglars, coming out of his cabin, who will furnish you -with every particular. As for me, I must look after the -anchoring, and dress the ship in mourning." -The owner did not wait for a second invitation. He seized a -rope which Dantes flung to him, and with an activity that -would have done credit to a sailor, climbed up the side of -the ship, while the young man, going to his task, left the -conversation to Danglars, who now came towards the owner. He -was a man of twentyfive or twentysix years of age, of -unprepossessing countenance, obsequious to his superiors, -insolent to his subordinates and this, in addition to his -position as responsible agent on board, which is always -obnoxious to the sailors, made him as much disliked by the -crew as Edmond Dantes was beloved by them. -"Well, M. Morrel," said Danglars, "you have heard of the -misfortune that has befallen us?" -"Yes yes poor Captain Leclere He was a brave and an -honest man." -"And a firstrate seaman, one who had seen long and -honorable service, as became a man charged with the -interests of a house so important as that of Morrel Son," -replied Danglars. -"But," replied the owner, glancing after Dantes, who was -watching the anchoring of his vessel, "it seems to me that a -sailor needs not be so old as you say, Danglars, to -understand his business, for our friend Edmond seems to -understand it thoroughly, and not to require instruction -from any one." -"Yes," said Danglars, darting at Edmond a look gleaming with -hate. "Yes, he is young, and youth is invariably -selfconfident. Scarcely was the captain's breath out of his -body when he assumed the command without consulting any one, -and he caused us to lose a day and a half at the Island of -Elba, instead of making for Marseilles direct." -"As to taking command of the vessel," replied Morrel, "that -was his duty as captain's mate as to losing a day and a -half off the Island of Elba, he was wrong, unless the vessel -needed repairs." -"The vessel was in as good condition as I am, and as, I hope -you are, M. Morrel, and this day and a half was lost from -pure whim, for the pleasure of going ashore, and nothing -else." -"Dantes," said the shipowner, turning towards the young man, -"come this way" -"In a moment, sir," answered Dantes, "and I'm with you." -Then calling to the crew, he said "Let go" -The anchor was instantly dropped, and the chain ran rattling -through the porthole. Dantes continued at his post in spite -of the presence of the pilot, until this manoeuvre was -completed, and then he added, "Halfmast the colors, and -square the yards" -"You see," said Danglars, "he fancies himself captain -already, upon my word." -"And so, in fact, he is," said the owner. -"Except your signature and your partner's, M. Morrel." -"And why should he not have this?" asked the owner "he is -young, it is true, but he seems to me a thorough seaman, and -of full experience." -A cloud passed over Danglars' brow. "Your pardon, M. -Morrel," said Dantes, approaching, "the vessel now rides at -anchor, and I am at your service. You hailed me, I think?" -Danglars retreated a step or two. "I wished to inquire why -you stopped at the Island of Elba?" -"I do not know, sir it was to fulfil the last instructions -of Captain Leclere, who, when dying, gave me a packet for -Marshal Bertrand." -"Then did you see him, Edmond?" -"Who?" -"The marshal." -"Yes." -Morrel looked around him, and then, drawing Dantes on one -side, he said suddenly "And how is the emperor?" -"Very well, as far as I could judge from the sight of him." -"You saw the emperor, then?" -"He entered the marshal's apartment while I was there." -"And you spoke to him?" -"Why, it was he who spoke to me, sir," said Dantes, with a -smile. -"And what did he say to you?" -"Asked me questions about the vessel, the time she left -Marseilles, the course she had taken, and what was her -cargo. I believe, if she had not been laden, and I had been -her master, he would have bought her. But I told him I was -only mate, and that she belonged to the firm of Morrel -Son. "Ah, yes,' he said, "I know them. The Morrels have been -shipowners from father to son and there was a Morrel who -served in the same regiment with me when I was in garrison -at Valence.'" -"Pardieu, and that is true" cried the owner, greatly -delighted. "And that was Policar Morrel, my uncle, who was -afterwards a captain. Dantes, you must tell my uncle that -the emperor remembered him, and you will see it will bring -tears into the old soldier's eyes. Come, come," continued -he, patting Edmond's shoulder kindly, "you did very right, -Dantes, to follow Captain Leclere's instructions, and touch -at Elba, although if it were known that you had conveyed a -packet to the marshal, and had conversed with the emperor, -it might bring you into trouble." -"How could that bring me into trouble, sir?" asked Dantes -"for I did not even know of what I was the bearer and the -emperor merely made such inquiries as he would of the first -comer. But, pardon me, here are the health officers and the -customs inspectors coming alongside." And the young man went -to the gangway. As he departed, Danglars approached, and -said, -"Well, it appears that he has given you satisfactory reasons -for his landing at PortoFerrajo?" -"Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars." -"Well, so much the better," said the supercargo "for it is -not pleasant to think that a comrade has not done his duty." -"Dantes has done his," replied the owner, "and that is not -saying much. It was Captain Leclere who gave orders for this -delay." -"Talking of Captain Leclere, has not Dantes given you a -letter from him?" -"To me? no was there one?" -"I believe that, besides the packet, Captain Leclere -confided a letter to his care." -"Of what packet are you speaking, Danglars?" -"Why, that which Dantes left at PortoFerrajo." -"How do you know he had a packet to leave at PortoFerrajo?" -Danglars turned very red. -"I was passing close to the door of the captain's cabin, -which was half open, and I saw him give the packet and -letter to Dantes." -"He did not speak to me of it," replied the shipowner "but -if there be any letter he will give it to me." -Danglars reflected for a moment. "Then, M. Morrel, I beg of -you," said he, "not to say a word to Dantes on the subject. -I may have been mistaken." -At this moment the young man returned Danglars withdrew. -"Well, my dear Dantes, are you now free?" inquired the -owner. -"Yes, sir." -"You have not been long detained." -"No. I gave the customhouse officers a copy of our bill of -lading and as to the other papers, they sent a man off with -the pilot, to whom I gave them." -"Then you have nothing more to do here?" -"No everything is all right now." -"Then you can come and dine with me?" -"I really must ask you to excuse me, M. Morrel. My first -visit is due to my father, though I am not the less grateful -for the honor you have done me." -"Right, Dantes, quite right. I always knew you were a good -son." -"And," inquired Dantes, with some hesitation, "do you know -how my father is?" -"Well, I believe, my dear Edmond, though I have not seen him -lately." -"Yes, he likes to keep himself shut up in his little room." -"That proves, at least, that he has wanted for nothing -during your absence." -Dantes smiled. "My father is proud, sir, and if he had not a -meal left, I doubt if he would have asked anything from -anyone, except from Heaven." -"Well, then, after this first visit has been made we shall -count on you." -"I must again excuse myself, M. Morrel, for after this first -visit has been paid I have another which I am most anxious -to pay." -"True, Dantes, I forgot that there was at the Catalans some -one who expects you no less impatiently than your father -the lovely Mercedes." -Dantes blushed. -"Ah, ha," said the shipowner, "I am not in the least -surprised, for she has been to me three times, inquiring if -there were any news of the Pharaon. Peste, Edmond, you have -a very handsome mistress" -"She is not my mistress," replied the young sailor, gravely -"she is my betrothed." -"Sometimes one and the same thing," said Morrel, with a -smile. -"Not with us, sir," replied Dantes. -"Well, well, my dear Edmond," continued the owner, "don't -let me detain you. You have managed my affairs so well that -I ought to allow you all the time you require for your own. -Do you want any money?" -"No, sir I have all my pay to take nearly three months' -wages." -"You are a careful fellow, Edmond." -"Say I have a poor father, sir." -"Yes, yes, I know how good a son you are, so now hasten away -to see your father. I have a son too, and I should be very -wroth with those who detained him from me after a three -months' voyage." -"Then I have your leave, sir?" -"Yes, if you have nothing more to say to me." -"Nothing." -"Captain Leclere did not, before he died, give you a letter -for me?" -"He was unable to write, sir. But that reminds me that I -must ask your leave of absence for some days." -"To get married?" -"Yes, first, and then to go to Paris." -"Very good have what time you require, Dantes. It will take -quite six weeks to unload the cargo, and we cannot get you -ready for sea until three months after that only be back -again in three months, for the Pharaon," added the owner, -patting the young sailor on the back, "cannot sail without -her captain." -"Without her captain" cried Dantes, his eyes sparkling with -animation "pray mind what you say, for you are touching on -the most secret wishes of my heart. Is it really your -intention to make me captain of the Pharaon?" -"If I were sole owner we'd shake hands on it now, my dear -Dantes, and call it settled but I have a partner, and you -know the Italian proverb Chi ha compagno ha padrone -"He who has a partner has a master.' But the thing is at -least half done, as you have one out of two votes. Rely on -me to procure you the other I will do my best." -"Ah, M. Morrel," exclaimed the young seaman, with tears in -his eyes, and grasping the owner's hand, "M. Morrel, I thank -you in the name of my father and of Mercedes." -"That's all right, Edmond. There's a providence that watches -over the deserving. Go to your father go and see Mercedes, -and afterwards come to me." -"Shall I row you ashore?" -"No, thank you I shall remain and look over the accounts -with Danglars. Have you been satisfied with him this -voyage?" -"That is according to the sense you attach to the question, -sir. Do you mean is he a good comrade? No, for I think he -never liked me since the day when I was silly enough, after -a little quarrel we had, to propose to him to stop for ten -minutes at the island of Monte Cristo to settle the dispute -a proposition which I was wrong to suggest, and he quite -right to refuse. If you mean as responsible agent when you -ask me the question, I believe there is nothing to say -against him, and that you will be content with the way in -which he has performed his duty." -"But tell me, Dantes, if you had command of the Pharaon -should you be glad to see Danglars remain?" -"Captain or mate, M. Morrel, I shall always have the -greatest respect for those who possess the owners' -confidence." -"That's right, that's right, Dantes I see you are a -thoroughly good fellow, and will detain you no longer. Go, -for I see how impatient you are." -"Then I have leave?" -"Go, I tell you." -"May I have the use of your skiff?" -"Certainly." -"Then, for the present, M. Morrel, farewell, and a thousand -thanks" -"I hope soon to see you again, my dear Edmond. Good luck to -you." -The young sailor jumped into the skiff, and sat down in the -stern sheets, with the order that he be put ashore at La -Canebiere. The two oarsmen bent to their work, and the -little boat glided away as rapidly as possible in the midst -of the thousand vessels which choke up the narrow way which -leads between the two rows of ships from the mouth of the -harbor to the Quai d'Orleans. -The shipowner, smiling, followed him with his eyes until he -saw him spring out on the quay and disappear in the midst of -the throng, which from five o'clock in the morning until -nine o'clock at night, swarms in the famous street of La -Canebiere, a street of which the modern Phocaeans are so -proud that they say with all the gravity in the world, and -with that accent which gives so much character to what is -said, "If Paris had La Canebiere, Paris would be a second -Marseilles." On turning round the owner saw Danglars behind -him, apparently awaiting orders, but in reality also -watching the young sailor, but there was a great -difference in the expression of the two men who thus -followed the movements of Edmond Dantes. -Chapter -Father and Son. -We will leave Danglars struggling with the demon of hatred, -and endeavoring to insinuate in the ear of the shipowner -some evil suspicions against his comrade, and follow Dantes, -who, after having traversed La Canebiere, took the Rue de -Noailles, and entering a small house, on the left of the -Allees de Meillan, rapidly ascended four flights of a dark -staircase, holding the baluster with one hand, while with -the other he repressed the beatings of his heart, and paused -before a halfopen door, from which he could see the whole -of a small room. -This room was occupied by Dantes' father. The news of the -arrival of the Pharaon had not yet reached the old man, who, -mounted on a chair, was amusing himself by training with -trembling hand the nasturtiums and sprays of clematis that -clambered over the trellis at his window. Suddenly, he felt -an arm thrown around his body, and a wellknown voice behind -him exclaimed, "Father dear father" -The old man uttered a cry, and turned round then, seeing -his son, he fell into his arms, pale and trembling. -"What ails you, my dearest father? Are you ill?" inquired -the young man, much alarmed. -"No, no, my dear Edmond my boy my son no but I -did not expect you and joy, the surprise of seeing you so -suddenly Ah, I feel as if I were going to die." -"Come, come, cheer up, my dear father 'Tis I really I -They say joy never hurts, and so I came to you without any -warning. Come now, do smile, instead of looking at me so -solemnly. Here I am back again, and we are going to be -happy." -"Yes, yes, my boy, so we will so we will," replied the -old man "but how shall we be happy? Shall you never leave -me again? Come, tell me all the good fortune that has -befallen you." -"God forgive me," said the young man, "for rejoicing at -happiness derived from the misery of others, but, Heaven -knows, I did not seek this good fortune it has happened, -and I really cannot pretend to lament it. The good Captain -Leclere is dead, father, and it is probable that, with the -aid of M. Morrel, I shall have his place. Do you understand, -father? Only imagine me a captain at twenty, with a hundred -louis pay, and a share in the profits Is this not more than -a poor sailor like me could have hoped for?" -"Yes, my dear boy," replied the old man, "it is very -fortunate." -"Well, then, with the first money I touch, I mean you to -have a small house, with a garden in which to plant -clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what ails you, -father? Are you not well?" -"'Tis nothing, nothing it will soon pass away" and as he -said so the old man's strength failed him, and he fell -backwards. -"Come, come," said the young man, "a glass of wine, father, -will revive you. Where do you keep your wine?" -"No, no thanks. You need not look for it I do not want -it," said the old man. -"Yes, yes, father, tell me where it is," and he opened two -or three cupboards. -"It is no use," said the old man, "there is no wine." -"What, no wine?" said Dantes, turning pale, and looking -alternately at the hollow cheeks of the old man and the -empty cupboards. "What, no wine? Have you wanted money, -father?" -"I want nothing now that I have you," said the old man. -"Yet," stammered Dantes, wiping the perspiration from his -brow, "yet I gave you two hundred francs when I left, -three months ago." -"Yes, yes, Edmond, that is true, but you forgot at that time -a little debt to our neighbor, Caderousse. He reminded me of -it, telling me if I did not pay for you, he would be paid by -M. Morrel and so, you see, lest he might do you an injury" -"Well?" -"Why, I paid him." -"But," cried Dantes, "it was a hundred and forty francs I -owed Caderousse." -"Yes," stammered the old man. -"And you paid him out of the two hundred francs I left you?" -The old man nodded. -"So that you have lived for three months on sixty francs," -muttered Edmond. -"You know how little I require," said the old man. -"Heaven pardon me," cried Edmond, falling on his knees -before his father. -"What are you doing?" -"You have wounded me to the heart." -"Never mind it, for I see you once more," said the old man -"and now it's all over everything is all right again." -"Yes, here I am," said the young man, "with a promising -future and a little money. Here, father, here" he said, -"take this take it, and send for something immediately." -And he emptied his pockets on the table, the contents -consisting of a dozen gold pieces, five or six fivefranc -pieces, and some smaller coin. The countenance of old Dantes -brightened. -"Whom does this belong to?" he inquired. -"To me, to you, to us Take it buy some provisions be -happy, and tomorrow we shall have more." -"Gently, gently," said the old man, with a smile "and by -your leave I will use your purse moderately, for they would -say, if they saw me buy too many things at a time, that I -had been obliged to await your return, in order to be able -to purchase them." -"Do as you please but, first of all, pray have a servant, -father. I will not have you left alone so long. I have some -smuggled coffee and most capital tobacco, in a small chest -in the hold, which you shall have tomorrow. But, hush, here -comes somebody." -"'Tis Caderousse, who has heard of your arrival, and no -doubt comes to congratulate you on your fortunate return." -"Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks -another," murmured Edmond. "But, never mind, he is a -neighbor who has done us a service on a time, so he's -welcome." -As Edmond paused, the black and bearded head of Caderousse -appeared at the door. He was a man of twentyfive or six, -and held a piece of cloth, which, being a tailor, he was -about to make into a coatlining. -"What, is it you, Edmond, back again?" said he, with a broad -Marseillaise accent, and a grin that displayed his -ivorywhite teeth. -"Yes, as you see, neighbor Caderousse and ready to be -agreeable to you in any and every way," replied Dantes, but -illconcealing his coldness under this cloak of civility. -"Thanks thanks but, fortunately, I do not want for -anything and it chances that at times there are others who -have need of me." Dantes made a gesture. "I do not allude to -you, my boy. No no I lent you money, and you returned -it that's like good neighbors, and we are quits." -"We are never quits with those who oblige us," was Dantes' -reply "for when we do not owe them money, we owe them -gratitude." -"What's the use of mentioning that? What is done is done. -Let us talk of your happy return, my boy. I had gone on the -quay to match a piece of mulberry cloth, when I met friend -Danglars. "You at Marseilles?' "Yes,' says he. -""I thought you were at Smyrna.' "I was but am now back -again.' -""And where is the dear boy, our little Edmond?' -""Why, with his father, no doubt,' replied Danglars. And so -I came," added Caderousse, "as fast as I could to have the -pleasure of shaking hands with a friend." -"Worthy Caderousse" said the old man, "he is so much -attached to us." -"Yes, to be sure I am. I love and esteem you, because honest -folks are so rare. But it seems you have come back rich, my -boy," continued the tailor, looking askance at the handful -of gold and silver which Dantes had thrown on the table. -The young man remarked the greedy glance which shone in the -dark eyes of his neighbor. "Eh," he said, negligently. "this -money is not mine. I was expressing to my father my fears -that he had wanted many things in my absence, and to -convince me he emptied his purse on the table. Come, father" -added Dantes, "put this money back in your box unless -neighbor Caderousse wants anything, and in that case it is -at his service." -"No, my boy, no," said Caderousse. "I am not in any want, -thank God, my living is suited to my means. Keep your money -keep it, I say one never has too much but, at the -same time, my boy, I am as much obliged by your offer as if -I took advantage of it." -"It was offered with good will," said Dantes. -"No doubt, my boy no doubt. Well, you stand well with M. -Morrel I hear, you insinuating dog, you" -"M. Morrel has always been exceedingly kind to me," replied -Dantes. -"Then you were wrong to refuse to dine with him." -"What, did you refuse to dine with him?" said old Dantes -"and did he invite you to dine?" -"Yes, my dear father," replied Edmond, smiling at his -father's astonishment at the excessive honor paid to his -son. -"And why did you refuse, my son?" inquired the old man. -"That I might the sooner see you again, my dear father," -replied the young man. "I was most anxious to see you." -"But it must have vexed M. Morrel, good, worthy man," said -Caderousse. "And when you are looking forward to be captain, -it was wrong to annoy the owner." -"But I explained to him the cause of my refusal," replied -Dantes, "and I hope he fully understood it." -"Yes, but to be captain one must do a little flattery to -one's patrons." -"I hope to be captain without that," said Dantes. -"So much the better so much the better Nothing will give -greater pleasure to all your old friends and I know one -down there behind the Saint Nicolas citadel who will not be -sorry to hear it." -"Mercedes?" said the old man. -"Yes, my dear father, and with your permission, now I have -seen you, and know you are well and have all you require, I -will ask your consent to go and pay a visit to the -Catalans." -"Go, my dear boy," said old Dantes "and heaven bless you in -your wife, as it has blessed me in my son" -"His wife" said Caderousse "why, how fast you go on, -father Dantes she is not his wife yet, as it seems to me." -"So, but according to all probability she soon will be," -replied Edmond. -"Yes yes," said Caderousse "but you were right to return -as soon as possible, my boy." -"And why?" -"Because Mercedes is a very fine girl, and fine girls never -lack followers she particularly has them by dozens." -"Really?" answered Edmond, with a smile which had in it -traces of slight uneasiness. -"Ah, yes," continued Caderousse, "and capital offers, too -but you know, you will be captain, and who could refuse you -then?" -"Meaning to say," replied Dantes, with a smile which but -illconcealed his trouble, "that if I were not a captain" -"Eh eh" said Caderousse, shaking his head. -"Come, come," said the sailor, "I have a better opinion than -you of women in general, and of Mercedes in particular and -I am certain that, captain or not, she will remain ever -faithful to me." -"So much the better so much the better," said Caderousse. -"When one is going to be married, there is nothing like -implicit confidence but never mind that, my boy, go and -announce your arrival, and let her know all your hopes and -prospects." -"I will go directly," was Edmond's reply and, embracing his -father, and nodding to Caderousse, he left the apartment. -Caderousse lingered for a moment, then taking leave of old -Dantes, he went downstairs to rejoin Danglars, who awaited -him at the corner of the Rue Senac. -"Well," said Danglars, "did you see him?" -"I have just left him," answered Caderousse. -"Did he allude to his hope of being captain?" -"He spoke of it as a thing already decided." -"Indeed" said Danglars, "he is in too much hurry, it -appears to me." -"Why, it seems M. Morrel has promised him the thing." -"So that he is quite elated about it?" -"Why, yes, he is actually insolent over the matter has -already offered me his patronage, as if he were a grand -personage, and proffered me a loan of money, as though he -were a banker." -"Which you refused?" -"Most assuredly although I might easily have accepted it, -for it was I who put into his hands the first silver he ever -earned but now M. Dantes has no longer any occasion for -assistance he is about to become a captain." -"Pooh" said Danglars, "he is not one yet." -"Ma foi, it will be as well if he is not," answered -Caderousse "for if he should be, there will be really no -speaking to him." -"If we choose," replied Danglars, "he will remain what he -is and perhaps become even less than he is." -"What do you mean?" -"Nothing I was speaking to myself. And is he still in -love with the Catalane?" -"Over head and ears but, unless I am much mistaken, there -will be a storm in that quarter." -"Explain yourself." -"Why should I?" -"It is more important than you think, perhaps. You do not -like Dantes?" -"I never like upstarts." -"Then tell me all you know about the Catalane." -"I know nothing for certain only I have seen things which -induce me to believe, as I told you, that the future captain -will find some annoyance in the vicinity of the Vieilles -Infirmeries." -"What have you seen? come, tell me" -"Well, every time I have seen Mercedes come into the city -she has been accompanied by a tall, strapping, blackeyed -Catalan, with a red complexion, brown skin, and fierce air, -whom she calls cousin." -"Really and you think this cousin pays her attentions?" -"I only suppose so. What else can a strapping chap of -twentyone mean with a fine wench of seventeen?" -"And you say that Dantes has gone to the Catalans?" -"He went before I came down." -"Let us go the same way we will stop at La Reserve, and we -can drink a glass of La Malgue, whilst we wait for news." -"Come along," said Caderousse "but you pay the score." -"Of course," replied Danglars and going quickly to the -designated place, they called for a bottle of wine, and two -glasses. -Pere Pamphile had seen Dantes pass not ten minutes before -and assured that he was at the Catalans, they sat down under -the budding foliage of the planes and sycamores, in the -branches of which the birds were singing their welcome to -one of the first days of spring. -Chapter -The Catalans. -Beyond a bare, weatherworn wall, about a hundred paces from -the spot where the two friends sat looking and listening as -they drank their wine, was the village of the Catalans. Long -ago this mysterious colony quitted Spain, and settled on the -tongue of land on which it is to this day. Whence it came no -one knew, and it spoke an unknown tongue. One of its chiefs, -who understood Provencal, begged the commune of Marseilles -to give them this bare and barren promontory, where, like -the sailors of old, they had run their boats ashore. The -request was granted and three months afterwards, around the -twelve or fifteen small vessels which had brought these -gypsies of the sea, a small village sprang up. This village, -constructed in a singular and picturesque manner, half -Moorish, half Spanish, still remains, and is inhabited by -descendants of the first comers, who speak the language of -their fathers. For three or four centuries they have -remained upon this small promontory, on which they had -settled like a flight of seabirds, without mixing with the -Marseillaise population, intermarrying, and preserving their -original customs and the costume of their mothercountry as -they have preserved its language. -Our readers will follow us along the only street of this -little village, and enter with us one of the houses, which -is sunburned to the beautiful deadleaf color peculiar to -the buildings of the country, and within coated with -whitewash, like a Spanish posada. A young and beautiful -girl, with hair as black as jet, her eyes as velvety as the -gazelle's, was leaning with her back against the wainscot, -rubbing in her slender delicately moulded fingers a bunch of -heath blossoms, the flowers of which she was picking off and -strewing on the floor her arms, bare to the elbow, brown, -and modelled after those of the Arlesian Venus, moved with a -kind of restless impatience, and she tapped the earth with -her arched and supple foot, so as to display the pure and -full shape of her wellturned leg, in its red cotton, gray -and blue clocked, stocking. At three paces from her, seated -in a chair which he balanced on two legs, leaning his elbow -on an old wormeaten table, was a tall young man of twenty, -or twoandtwenty, who was looking at her with an air in -which vexation and uneasiness were mingled. He questioned -her with his eyes, but the firm and steady gaze of the young -girl controlled his look. -"You see, Mercedes," said the young man, "here is Easter -come round again tell me, is this the moment for a -wedding?" -"I have answered you a hundred times, Fernand, and really -you must be very stupid to ask me again." -"Well, repeat it, repeat it, I beg of you, that I may at -last believe it Tell me for the hundredth time that you -refuse my love, which had your mother's sanction. Make me -understand once for all that you are trifling with my -happiness, that my life or death are nothing to you. Ah, to -have dreamed for ten years of being your husband, Mercedes, -and to lose that hope, which was the only stay of my -existence" -"At least it was not I who ever encouraged you in that hope, -Fernand," replied Mercedes "you cannot reproach me with the -slightest coquetry. I have always said to you, "I love you -as a brother but do not ask from me more than sisterly -affection, for my heart is another's.' Is not this true, -Fernand?" -"Yes, that is very true, Mercedes," replied the young man, -"Yes, you have been cruelly frank with me but do you forget -that it is among the Catalans a sacred law to intermarry?" -"You mistake, Fernand it is not a law, but merely a custom, -and, I pray of you, do not cite this custom in your favor. -You are included in the conscription, Fernand, and are only -at liberty on sufferance, liable at any moment to be called -upon to take up arms. Once a soldier, what would you do with -me, a poor orphan, forlorn, without fortune, with nothing -but a halfruined hut and a few ragged nets, the miserable -inheritance left by my father to my mother, and by my mother -to me? She has been dead a year, and you know, Fernand, I -have subsisted almost entirely on public charity. Sometimes -you pretend I am useful to you, and that is an excuse to -share with me the produce of your fishing, and I accept it, -Fernand, because you are the son of my father's brother, -because we were brought up together, and still more because -it would give you so much pain if I refuse. But I feel very -deeply that this fish which I go and sell, and with the -produce of which I buy the flax I spin, I feel very -keenly, Fernand, that this is charity." -"And if it were, Mercedes, poor and lone as you are, you -suit me as well as the daughter of the first shipowner or -the richest banker of Marseilles What do such as we desire -but a good wife and careful housekeeper, and where can I -look for these better than in you?" -"Fernand," answered Mercedes, shaking her head, "a woman -becomes a bad manager, and who shall say she will remain an -honest woman, when she loves another man better than her -husband? Rest content with my friendship, for I say once -more that is all I can promise, and I will promise no more -than I can bestow." -"I understand," replied Fernand, "you can endure your own -wretchedness patiently, but you are afraid to share mine. -Well, Mercedes, beloved by you, I would tempt fortune you -would bring me good luck, and I should become rich. I could -extend my occupation as a fisherman, might get a place as -clerk in a warehouse, and become in time a dealer myself." -"You could do no such thing, Fernand you are a soldier, and -if you remain at the Catalans it is because there is no war -so remain a fisherman, and contented with my friendship, as -I cannot give you more." -"Well, I will do better, Mercedes. I will be a sailor -instead of the costume of our fathers, which you despise, I -will wear a varnished hat, a striped shirt, and a blue -jacket, with an anchor on the buttons. Would not that dress -please you?" -"What do you mean?" asked Mercedes, with an angry glance, -"what do you mean? I do not understand you?" -"I mean, Mercedes, that you are thus harsh and cruel with -me, because you are expecting some one who is thus attired -but perhaps he whom you await is inconstant, or if he is -not, the sea is so to him." -"Fernand," cried Mercedes, "I believed you were -goodhearted, and I was mistaken Fernand, you are wicked to -call to your aid jealousy and the anger of God Yes, I will -not deny it, I do await, and I do love him of whom you -speak and, if he does not return, instead of accusing him -of the inconstancy which you insinuate, I will tell you that -he died loving me and me only." The young girl made a -gesture of rage. "I understand you, Fernand you would be -revenged on him because I do not love you you would cross -your Catalan knife with his dirk. What end would that -answer? To lose you my friendship if he were conquered, and -see that friendship changed into hate if you were victor. -Believe me, to seek a quarrel with a man is a bad method of -pleasing the woman who loves that man. No, Fernand, you will -not thus give way to evil thoughts. Unable to have me for -your wife, you will content yourself with having me for your -friend and sister and besides," she added, her eyes -troubled and moistened with tears, "wait, wait, Fernand you -said just now that the sea was treacherous, and he has been -gone four months, and during these four months there have -been some terrible storms." -Fernand made no reply, nor did he attempt to check the tears -which flowed down the cheeks of Mercedes, although for each -of these tears he would have shed his heart's blood but -these tears flowed for another. He arose, paced a while up -and down the hut, and then, suddenly stopping before -Mercedes, with his eyes glowing and his hands clinched, -"Say, Mercedes," he said, "once for all, is this your final -determination?" -"I love Edmond Dantes," the young girl calmly replied, "and -none but Edmond shall ever be my husband." -"And you will always love him?" -"As long as I live." -Fernand let fall his head like a defeated man, heaved a sigh -that was like a groan, and then suddenly looking her full in -the face, with clinched teeth and expanded nostrils, said, -"But if he is dead" -"If he is dead, I shall die too." -"If he has forgotten you" -"Mercedes" called a joyous voice from without, -"Mercedes" -"Ah," exclaimed the young girl, blushing with delight, and -fairly leaping in excess of love, "you see he has not -forgotten me, for here he is" And rushing towards the door, -she opened it, saying, "Here, Edmond, here I am" -Fernand, pale and trembling, drew back, like a traveller at -the sight of a serpent, and fell into a chair beside him. -Edmond and Mercedes were clasped in each other's arms. The -burning Marseilles sun, which shot into the room through the -open door, covered them with a flood of light. At first they -saw nothing around them. Their intense happiness isolated -them from all the rest of the world, and they only spoke in -broken words, which are the tokens of a joy so extreme that -they seem rather the expression of sorrow. Suddenly Edmond -saw the gloomy, pale, and threatening countenance of -Fernand, as it was defined in the shadow. By a movement for -which he could scarcely account to himself, the young -Catalan placed his hand on the knife at his belt. -"Ah, your pardon," said Dantes, frowning in his turn "I did -not perceive that there were three of us." Then, turning to -Mercedes, he inquired, "Who is this gentleman?" -"One who will be your best friend, Dantes, for he is my -friend, my cousin, my brother it is Fernand the man -whom, after you, Edmond, I love the best in the world. Do -you not remember him?" -"Yes" said Dantes, and without relinquishing Mercedes hand -clasped in one of his own, he extended the other to the -Catalan with a cordial air. But Fernand, instead of -responding to this amiable gesture, remained mute and -trembling. Edmond then cast his eyes scrutinizingly at the -agitated and embarrassed Mercedes, and then again on the -gloomy and menacing Fernand. This look told him all, and his -anger waxed hot. -"I did not know, when I came with such haste to you, that I -was to meet an enemy here." -"An enemy" cried Mercedes, with an angry look at her -cousin. "An enemy in my house, do you say, Edmond If I -believed that, I would place my arm under yours and go with -you to Marseilles, leaving the house to return to it no -more." -Fernand's eye darted lightning. "And should any misfortune -occur to you, dear Edmond," she continued with the same -calmness which proved to Fernand that the young girl had -read the very innermost depths of his sinister thought, "if -misfortune should occur to you, I would ascend the highest -point of the Cape de Morgion and cast myself headlong from -it." -Fernand became deadly pale. "But you are deceived, Edmond," -she continued. "You have no enemy here there is no one -but Fernand, my brother, who will grasp your hand as a -devoted friend." -And at these words the young girl fixed her imperious look -on the Catalan, who, as if fascinated by it, came slowly -towards Edmond, and offered him his hand. His hatred, like a -powerless though furious wave, was broken against the strong -ascendancy which Mercedes exercised over him. Scarcely, -however, had he touched Edmond's hand than he felt he had -done all he could do, and rushed hastily out of the house. -"Oh," he exclaimed, running furiously and tearing his hair -"Oh, who will deliver me from this man? Wretched -wretched that I am" -"Hallo, Catalan Hallo, Fernand where are you running to?" -exclaimed a voice. -The young man stopped suddenly, looked around him, and -perceived Caderousse sitting at table with Danglars, under -an arbor. -"Well", said Caderousse, "why don't you come? Are you really -in such a hurry that you have no time to pass the time of -day with your friends?" -"Particularly when they have still a full bottle before -them," added Danglars. Fernand looked at them both with a -stupefied air, but did not say a word. -"He seems besotted," said Danglars, pushing Caderousse with -his knee. "Are we mistaken, and is Dantes triumphant in -spite of all we have believed?" -"Why, we must inquire into that," was Caderousse's reply -and turning towards the young man, said, "Well, Catalan, -can't you make up your mind?" -Fernand wiped away the perspiration steaming from his brow, -and slowly entered the arbor, whose shade seemed to restore -somewhat of calmness to his senses, and whose coolness -somewhat of refreshment to his exhausted body. -"Goodday," said he. "You called me, didn't you?" And he -fell, rather than sat down, on one of the seats which -surrounded the table. -"I called you because you were running like a madman, and I -was afraid you would throw yourself into the sea," said -Caderousse, laughing. "Why, when a man has friends, they are -not only to offer him a glass of wine, but, moreover, to -prevent his swallowing three or four pints of water -unnecessarily" -Fernand gave a groan, which resembled a sob, and dropped his -head into his hands, his elbows leaning on the table. -"Well, Fernand, I must say," said Caderousse, beginning the -conversation, with that brutality of the common people in -which curiosity destroys all diplomacy, "you look uncommonly -like a rejected lover" and he burst into a hoarse laugh. -"Bah" said Danglars, "a lad of his make was not born to be -unhappy in love. You are laughing at him, Caderousse." -"No," he replied, "only hark how he sighs Come, come, -Fernand," said Caderousse, "hold up your head, and answer -us. It's not polite not to reply to friends who ask news of -your health." -"My health is well enough," said Fernand, clinching his -hands without raising his head. -"Ah, you see, Danglars," said Caderousse, winking at his -friend, "this is how it is Fernand, whom you see here, is a -good and brave Catalan, one of the best fishermen in -Marseilles, and he is in love with a very fine girl, named -Mercedes but it appears, unfortunately, that the fine girl -is in love with the mate of the Pharaon and as the Pharaon -arrived today why, you understand" -"No I do not understand," said Danglars. -"Poor Fernand has been dismissed," continued Caderousse. -"Well, and what then?" said Fernand, lifting up his head, -and looking at Caderousse like a man who looks for some one -on whom to vent his anger "Mercedes is not accountable to -any person, is she? Is she not free to love whomsoever she -will?" -"Oh, if you take it in that sense," said Caderousse, "it is -another thing. But I thought you were a Catalan, and they -told me the Catalans were not men to allow themselves to be -supplanted by a rival. It was even told me that Fernand, -especially, was terrible in his vengeance." -Fernand smiled piteously. "A lover is never terrible," he -said. -"Poor fellow" remarked Danglars, affecting to pity the -young man from the bottom of his heart. "Why, you see, he -did not expect to see Dantes return so suddenly he -thought he was dead, perhaps or perchance faithless These -things always come on us more severely when they come -suddenly." -"Ah, ma foi, under any circumstances," said Caderousse, who -drank as he spoke, and on whom the fumes of the wine began -to take effect, "under any circumstances Fernand is not -the only person put out by the fortunate arrival of Dantes -is he, Danglars?" -"No, you are right and I should say that would bring him -illluck." -"Well, never mind," answered Caderousse, pouring out a glass -of wine for Fernand, and filling his own for the eighth or -ninth time, while Danglars had merely sipped his. "Never -mind in the meantime he marries Mercedes the lovely -Mercedes at least he returns to do that." -During this time Danglars fixed his piercing glance on the -young man, on whose heart Caderousse's words fell like -molten lead. -"And when is the wedding to be?" he asked. -"Oh, it is not yet fixed" murmured Fernand. -"No, but it will be," said Caderousse, "as surely as Dantes -will be captain of the Pharaon eh, Danglars?" -Danglars shuddered at this unexpected attack, and turned to -Caderousse, whose countenance he scrutinized, to try and -detect whether the blow was premeditated but he read -nothing but envy in a countenance already rendered brutal -and stupid by drunkenness. -"Well," said he, filling the glasses, "let us drink to -Captain Edmond Dantes, husband of the beautiful Catalane" -Caderousse raised his glass to his mouth with unsteady hand, -and swallowed the contents at a gulp. Fernand dashed his on -the ground. -"Eh, eh, eh" stammered Caderousse. "What do I see down -there by the wall, in the direction of the Catalans? Look, -Fernand, your eyes are better than mine. I believe I see -double. You know wine is a deceiver but I should say it was -two lovers walking side by side, and hand in hand. Heaven -forgive me, they do not know that we can see them, and they -are actually embracing" -Danglars did not lose one pang that Fernand endured. -"Do you know them, Fernand?" he said. -"Yes," was the reply, in a low voice. "It is Edmond and -Mercedes" -"Ah, see there, now" said Caderousse "and I did not -recognize them Hallo, Dantes hello, lovely damsel Come -this way, and let us know when the wedding is to be, for -Fernand here is so obstinate he will not tell us." -"Hold your tongue, will you?" said Danglars, pretending to -restrain Caderousse, who, with the tenacity of drunkards, -leaned out of the arbor. "Try to stand upright, and let the -lovers make love without interruption. See, look at Fernand, -and follow his example he is wellbehaved" -Fernand, probably excited beyond bearing, pricked by -Danglars, as the bull is by the bandilleros, was about to -rush out for he had risen from his seat, and seemed to be -collecting himself to dash headlong upon his rival, when -Mercedes, smiling and graceful, lifted up her lovely head, -and looked at them with her clear and bright eyes. At this -Fernand recollected her threat of dying if Edmond died, and -dropped again heavily on his seat. Danglars looked at the -two men, one after the other, the one brutalized by liquor, -the other overwhelmed with love. -"I shall get nothing from these fools," he muttered "and I -am very much afraid of being here between a drunkard and a -coward. Here's an envious fellow making himself boozy on -wine when he ought to be nursing his wrath, and here is a -fool who sees the woman he loves stolen from under his nose -and takes on like a big baby. Yet this Catalan has eyes that -glisten like those of the vengeful Spaniards, Sicilians, and -Calabrians, and the other has fists big enough to crush an -ox at one blow. Unquestionably, Edmond's star is in the -ascendant, and he will marry the splendid girl he will be -captain, too, and laugh at us all, unless" a sinister -smile passed over Danglars' lips "unless I take a hand in -the affair," he added. -"Hallo" continued Caderousse, halfrising, and with his -fist on the table, "hallo, Edmond do you not see your -friends, or are you too proud to speak to them?" -"No, my dear fellow" replied Dantes, "I am not proud, but I -am happy, and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride." -"Ah, very well, that's an explanation" said Caderousse. -"How do you do, Madame Dantes?" -Mercedes courtesied gravely, and said "That is not my -name, and in my country it bodes ill fortune, they say, to -call a young girl by the name of her betrothed before he -becomes her husband. So call me Mercedes, if you please." -"We must excuse our worthy neighbor, Caderousse," said -Dantes, "he is so easily mistaken." -"So, then, the wedding is to take place immediately, M. -Dantes," said Danglars, bowing to the young couple. -"As soon as possible, M. Danglars today all preliminaries -will be arranged at my father's, and tomorrow, or next day -at latest, the wedding festival here at La Reserve. My -friends will be there, I hope that is to say, you are -invited, M. Danglars, and you, Caderousse." -"And Fernand," said Caderousse with a chuckle "Fernand, -too, is invited" -"My wife's brother is my brother," said Edmond "and we, -Mercedes and I, should be very sorry if he were absent at -such a time." -Fernand opened his mouth to reply, but his voice died on his -lips, and he could not utter a word. -"Today the preliminaries, tomorrow or next day the -ceremony You are in a hurry, captain" -"Danglars," said Edmond, smiling, "I will say to you as -Mercedes said just now to Caderousse, "Do not give me a -title which does not belong to me' that may bring me bad -luck." -"Your pardon," replied Danglars, "I merely said you seemed -in a hurry, and we have lots of time the Pharaon cannot be -under weigh again in less than three months." -"We are always in a hurry to be happy, M. Danglars for when -we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in -believing in good fortune. But it is not selfishness alone -that makes me thus in haste I must go to Paris." -"Ah, really? to Paris and will it be the first time you -have ever been there, Dantes?" -"Yes." -"Have you business there?" -"Not of my own the last commission of poor Captain Leclere -you know to what I allude, Danglars it is sacred. -Besides, I shall only take the time to go and return." -"Yes, yes, I understand," said Danglars, and then in a low -tone, he added, "To Paris, no doubt to deliver the letter -which the grand marshal gave him. Ah, this letter gives me -an idea a capital idea Ah Dantes, my friend, you are -not yet registered number one on board the good ship -Pharaon" then turning towards Edmond, who was walking away, -"A pleasant journey," he cried. -"Thank you," said Edmond with a friendly nod, and the two -lovers continued on their way, as calm and joyous as if they -were the very elect of heaven. -Chapter -Conspiracy. -Danglars followed Edmond and Mercedes with his eyes until -the two lovers disappeared behind one of the angles of Fort -Saint Nicolas, then turning round, he perceived Fernand, who -had fallen, pale and trembling, into his chair, while -Caderousse stammered out the words of a drinkingsong. -"Well, my dear sir," said Danglars to Fernand, "here is a -marriage which does not appear to make everybody happy." -"It drives me to despair," said Fernand. -"Do you, then, love Mercedes?" -"I adore her" -"For long?" -"As long as I have known her always." -"And you sit there, tearing your hair, instead of seeking to -remedy your condition I did not think that was the way of -your people." -"What would you have me do?" said Fernand. -"How do I know? Is it my affair? I am not in love with -Mademoiselle Mercedes but for you in the words of the -gospel, seek, and you shall find." -"I have found already." -"What?" -"I would stab the man, but the woman told me that if any -misfortune happened to her betrothed, she would kill -herself." -"Pooh Women say those things, but never do them." -"You do not know Mercedes what she threatens she will do." -"Idiot" muttered Danglars "whether she kill herself or -not, what matter, provided Dantes is not captain?" -"Before Mercedes should die," replied Fernand, with the -accents of unshaken resolution, "I would die myself" -"That's what I call love" said Caderousse with a voice more -tipsy than ever. "That's love, or I don't know what love -is." -"Come," said Danglars, "you appear to me a good sort of -fellow, and hang me, I should like to help you, but" -"Yes," said Caderousse, "but how?" -"My dear fellow," replied Danglars, "you are three parts -drunk finish the bottle, and you will be completely so. -Drink then, and do not meddle with what we are discussing, -for that requires all one's wit and cool judgment." -"I drunk" said Caderousse "well that's a good one I -could drink four more such bottles they are no bigger than -cologne flasks. Pere Pamphile, more wine" and Caderousse -rattled his glass upon the table. -"You were saying, sir" said Fernand, awaiting with great -anxiety the end of this interrupted remark. -"What was I saying? I forget. This drunken Caderousse has -made me lose the thread of my sentence." -"Drunk, if you like so much the worse for those who fear -wine, for it is because they have bad thoughts which they -are afraid the liquor will extract from their hearts" and -Caderousse began to sing the two last lines of a song very -popular at the time, -"Tous les mechants sont beuveurs d'eau -C'est bien prouve par le deluge.' - "The wicked are great drinkers of water -As the flood proved once for all." -"You said, sir, you would like to help me, but" -"Yes but I added, to help you it would be sufficient that -Dantes did not marry her you love and the marriage may -easily be thwarted, methinks, and yet Dantes need not die." -"Death alone can separate them," remarked Fernand. -"You talk like a noodle, my friend," said Caderousse "and -here is Danglars, who is a wideawake, clever, deep fellow, -who will prove to you that you are wrong. Prove it, -Danglars. I have answered for you. Say there is no need why -Dantes should die it would, indeed, be a pity he should. -Dantes is a good fellow I like Dantes. Dantes, your -health." -Fernand rose impatiently. "Let him run on," said Danglars, -restraining the young man "drunk as he is, he is not much -out in what he says. Absence severs as well as death, and if -the walls of a prison were between Edmond and Mercedes they -would be as effectually separated as if he lay under a -tombstone." -"Yes but one gets out of prison," said Caderousse, who, -with what sense was left him, listened eagerly to the -conversation, "and when one gets out and one's name is -Edmond Dantes, one seeks revenge" -"What matters that?" muttered Fernand. -"And why, I should like to know," persisted Caderousse, -"should they put Dantes in prison? he has not robbed or -killed or murdered." -"Hold your tongue" said Danglars. -"I won't hold my tongue" replied Caderousse "I say I want -to know why they should put Dantes in prison I like Dantes -Dantes, your health" and he swallowed another glass of -wine. -Danglars saw in the muddled look of the tailor the progress -of his intoxication, and turning towards Fernand, said, -"Well, you understand there is no need to kill him." -"Certainly not, if, as you said just now, you have the means -of having Dantes arrested. Have you that means?" -"It is to be found for the searching. But why should I -meddle in the matter? it is no affair of mine." -"I know not why you meddle," said Fernand, seizing his arm -"but this I know, you have some motive of personal hatred -against Dantes, for he who himself hates is never mistaken -in the sentiments of others." -"I motives of hatred against Dantes? None, on my word I -saw you were unhappy, and your unhappiness interested me -that's all but since you believe I act for my own account, -adieu, my dear friend, get out of the affair as best you -may" and Danglars rose as if he meant to depart. -"No, no," said Fernand, restraining him, "stay It is of -very little consequence to me at the end of the matter -whether you have any angry feeling or not against Dantes. I -hate him I confess it openly. Do you find the means, I will -execute it, provided it is not to kill the man, for Mercedes -has declared she will kill herself if Dantes is killed." -Caderousse, who had let his head drop on the table, now -raised it, and looking at Fernand with his dull and fishy -eyes, he said, "Kill Dantes who talks of killing Dantes? -I won't have him killed I won't He's my friend, and this -morning offered to share his money with me, as I shared mine -with him. I won't have Dantes killed I won't" -"And who has said a word about killing him, muddlehead?" -replied Danglars. "We were merely joking drink to his -health," he added, filling Caderousse's glass, "and do not -interfere with us." -"Yes, yes, Dantes' good health" said Caderousse, emptying -his glass, "here's to his health his health hurrah" -"But the means the means?" said Fernand. -"Have you not hit upon any?" asked Danglars. -"No you undertook to do so." -"True," replied Danglars "the French have the superiority -over the Spaniards, that the Spaniards ruminate, while the -French invent." -"Do you invent, then," said Fernand impatiently. -"Waiter," said Danglars, "pen, ink, and paper." -"Pen, ink, and paper," muttered Fernand. -"Yes I am a supercargo pen, ink, and paper are my tools, -and without my tools I am fit for nothing." -"Pen, ink, and paper, then," called Fernand loudly. -"There's what you want on that table," said the waiter. -"Bring them here." The waiter did as he was desired. -"When one thinks," said Caderousse, letting his hand drop on -the paper, "there is here wherewithal to kill a man more -sure than if we waited at the corner of a wood to -assassinate him I have always had more dread of a pen, a -bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper, than of a sword or -pistol." -"The fellow is not so drunk as he appears to be," said -Danglars. "Give him some more wine, Fernand." Fernand filled -Caderousse's glass, who, like the confirmed toper he was, -lifted his hand from the paper and seized the glass. -The Catalan watched him until Caderousse, almost overcome by -this fresh assault on his senses, rested, or rather dropped, -his glass upon the table. -"Well" resumed the Catalan, as he saw the final glimmer of -Caderousse's reason vanishing before the last glass of wine. -"Well, then, I should say, for instance," resumed Danglars, -"that if after a voyage such as Dantes has just made, in -which he touched at the Island of Elba, some one were to -denounce him to the king's procureur as a Bonapartist agent" -"I will denounce him" exclaimed the young man hastily. -"Yes, but they will make you then sign your declaration, and -confront you with him you have denounced I will supply you -with the means of supporting your accusation, for I know the -fact well. But Dantes cannot remain forever in prison, and -one day or other he will leave it, and the day when he comes -out, woe betide him who was the cause of his incarceration" -"Oh, I should wish nothing better than that he would come -and seek a quarrel with me." -"Yes, and Mercedes Mercedes, who will detest you if you -have only the misfortune to scratch the skin of her dearly -beloved Edmond" -"True" said Fernand. -"No, no," continued Danglars "if we resolve on such a step, -it would be much better to take, as I now do, this pen, dip -it into this ink, and write with the left hand that the -writing may not be recognized the denunciation we propose." -And Danglars, uniting practice with theory, wrote with his -left hand, and in a writing reversed from his usual style, -and totally unlike it, the following lines, which he handed -to Fernand, and which Fernand read in an undertone -"The honorable, the king's attorney, is informed by a friend -of the throne and religion, that one Edmond Dantes, mate of -the ship Pharaon, arrived this morning from Smyrna, after -having touched at Naples and PortoFerrajo, has been -intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper, and by the -usurper with a letter for the Bonapartist committee in -Paris. Proof of this crime will be found on arresting him, -for the letter will be found upon him, or at his father's, -or in his cabin on board the Pharaon." -"Very good," resumed Danglars "now your revenge looks like -commonsense, for in no way can it revert to yourself, and -the matter will thus work its own way there is nothing to -do now but fold the letter as I am doing, and write upon it, -"To the king's attorney,' and that's all settled." And -Danglars wrote the address as he spoke. -"Yes, and that's all settled" exclaimed Caderousse, who, by -a last effort of intellect, had followed the reading of the -letter, and instinctively comprehended all the misery which -such a denunciation must entail. "Yes, and that's all -settled only it will be an infamous shame" and he -stretched out his hand to reach the letter. -"Yes," said Danglars, taking it from beyond his reach "and -as what I say and do is merely in jest, and I, amongst the -first and foremost, should be sorry if anything happened to -Dantes the worthy Dantes look here" And taking the -letter, he squeezed it up in his hands and threw it into a -corner of the arbor. -"All right" said Caderousse. "Dantes is my friend, and I -won't have him illused." -"And who thinks of using him ill? Certainly neither I nor -Fernand," said Danglars, rising and looking at the young -man, who still remained seated, but whose eye was fixed on -the denunciatory sheet of paper flung into the corner. -"In this case," replied Caderousse, "let's have some more -wine. I wish to drink to the health of Edmond and the lovely -Mercedes." -"You have had too much already, drunkard," said Danglars -"and if you continue, you will be compelled to sleep here, -because unable to stand on your legs." -"I?" said Caderousse, rising with all the offended dignity -of a drunken man, "I can't keep on my legs? Why, I'll wager -I can go up into the belfry of the Accoules, and without -staggering, too" -"Done" said Danglars, "I'll take your bet but tomorrow -today it is time to return. Give me your arm, and let us -go." -"Very well, let us go," said Caderousse "but I don't want -your arm at all. Come, Fernand, won't you return to -Marseilles with us?" -"No," said Fernand "I shall return to the Catalans." -"You're wrong. Come with us to Marseilles come along." -"I will not." -"What do you mean? you will not? Well, just as you like, my -prince there's liberty for all the world. Come along, -Danglars, and let the young gentleman return to the Catalans -if he chooses." -Danglars took advantage of Caderousse's temper at the -moment, to take him off towards Marseilles by the Porte -SaintVictor, staggering as he went. -When they had advanced about twenty yards, Danglars looked -back and saw Fernand stoop, pick up the crumpled paper, and -putting it into his pocket then rush out of the arbor -towards Pillon. -"Well," said Caderousse, "why, what a lie he told He said -he was going to the Catalans, and he is going to the city. -Hallo, Fernand" -"Oh, you don't see straight," said Danglars "he's gone -right enough." -"Well," said Caderousse, "I should have said not how -treacherous wine is" -"Come, come," said Danglars to himself, "now the thing is at -work and it will effect its purpose unassisted." -Chapter -The MarriageFeast. -The morning's sun rose clear and resplendent, touching the -foamy waves into a network of rubytinted light. -The feast had been made ready on the second floor at La -Reserve, with whose arbor the reader is already familiar. -The apartment destined for the purpose was spacious and -lighted by a number of windows, over each of which was -written in golden letters for some inexplicable reason the -name of one of the principal cities of France beneath these -windows a wooden balcony extended the entire length of the -house. And although the entertainment was fixed for twelve -o'clock, an hour previous to that time the balcony was -filled with impatient and expectant guests, consisting of -the favored part of the crew of the Pharaon, and other -personal friends of the bridegroom, the whole of whom had -arrayed themselves in their choicest costumes, in order to -do greater honor to the occasion. -Various rumors were afloat to the effect that the owners of -the Pharaon had promised to attend the nuptial feast but -all seemed unanimous in doubting that an act of such rare -and exceeding condescension could possibly be intended. -Danglars, however, who now made his appearance, accompanied -by Caderousse, effectually confirmed the report, stating -that he had recently conversed with M. Morrel, who had -himself assured him of his intention to dine at La Reserve. -In fact, a moment later M. Morrel appeared and was saluted -with an enthusiastic burst of applause from the crew of the -Pharaon, who hailed the visit of the shipowner as a sure -indication that the man whose wedding feast he thus -delighted to honor would ere long be first in command of the -ship and as Dantes was universally beloved on board his -vessel, the sailors put no restraint on their tumultuous joy -at finding that the opinion and choice of their superiors so -exactly coincided with their own. -With the entrance of M. Morrel, Danglars and Caderousse were -despatched in search of the bridegroom to convey to him the -intelligence of the arrival of the important personage whose -coming had created such a lively sensation, and to beseech -him to make haste. -Danglars and Caderousse set off upon their errand at full -speed but ere they had gone many steps they perceived a -group advancing towards them, composed of the betrothed -pair, a party of young girls in attendance on the bride, by -whose side walked Dantes' father the whole brought up by -Fernand, whose lips wore their usual sinister smile. -Neither Mercedes nor Edmond observed the strange expression -of his countenance they were so happy that they were -conscious only of the sunshine and the presence of each -other. -Having acquitted themselves of their errand, and exchanged a -hearty shake of the hand with Edmond, Danglars and -Caderousse took their places beside Fernand and old Dantes, -the latter of whom attracted universal notice. The old -man was attired in a suit of glistening watered silk, -trimmed with steel buttons, beautifully cut and polished. -His thin but wiry legs were arrayed in a pair of richly -embroidered clocked stockings, evidently of English -manufacture, while from his threecornered hat depended a -long streaming knot of white and blue ribbons. Thus he came -along, supporting himself on a curiously carved stick, his -aged countenance lit up with happiness, looking for all the -world like one of the aged dandies of , parading the -newly opened gardens of the Tuileries and Luxembourg. Beside -him glided Caderousse, whose desire to partake of the good -things provided for the weddingparty had induced him to -become reconciled to the Dantes, father and son, although -there still lingered in his mind a faint and unperfect -recollection of the events of the preceding night just as -the brain retains on waking in the morning the dim and misty -outline of a dream. -As Danglars approached the disappointed lover, he cast on -him a look of deep meaning, while Fernand, as he slowly -paced behind the happy pair, who seemed, in their own -unmixed content, to have entirely forgotten that such a -being as himself existed, was pale and abstracted -occasionally, however, a deep flush would overspread his -countenance, and a nervous contraction distort his features, -while, with an agitated and restless gaze, he would glance -in the direction of Marseilles, like one who either -anticipated or foresaw some great and important event. -Dantes himself was simply, but becomingly, clad in the dress -peculiar to the merchant service a costume somewhat -between a military and a civil garb and with his fine -countenance, radiant with joy and happiness, a more perfect -specimen of manly beauty could scarcely be imagined. -Lovely as the Greek girls of Cyprus or Chios, Mercedes -boasted the same bright flashing eyes of jet, and ripe, -round, coral lips. She moved with the light, free step of an -Arlesienne or an Andalusian. One more practiced in the arts -of great cities would have hid her blushes beneath a veil, -or, at least, have cast down her thickly fringed lashes, so -as to have concealed the liquid lustre of her animated eyes -but, on the contrary, the delighted girl looked around her -with a smile that seemed to say "If you are my friends, -rejoice with me, for I am very happy." -As soon as the bridal party came in sight of La Reserve, M. -Morrel descended and came forth to meet it, followed by the -soldiers and sailors there assembled, to whom he had -repeated the promise already given, that Dantes should be -the successor to the late Captain Leclere. Edmond, at the -approach of his patron, respectfully placed the arm of his -affianced bride within that of M. Morrel, who, forthwith -conducting her up the flight of wooden steps leading to the -chamber in which the feast was prepared, was gayly followed -by the guests, beneath whose heavy tread the slight -structure creaked and groaned for the space of several -minutes. -"Father," said Mercedes, stopping when she had reached the -centre of the table, "sit, I pray you, on my right hand on -my left I will place him who has ever been as a brother to -me," pointing with a soft and gentle smile to Fernand but -her words and look seemed to inflict the direst torture on -him, for his lips became ghastly pale, and even beneath the -dark hue of his complexion the blood might be seen -retreating as though some sudden pang drove it back to the -heart. -During this time, Dantes, at the opposite side of the table, -had been occupied in similarly placing his most honored -guests. M. Morrel was seated at his right hand, Danglars at -his left while, at a sign from Edmond, the rest of the -company ranged themselves as they found it most agreeable. -Then they began to pass around the dusky, piquant, Arlesian -sausages, and lobsters in their dazzling red cuirasses, -prawns of large size and brilliant color, the echinus with -its prickly outside and dainty morsel within, the clovis, -esteemed by the epicures of the South as more than rivalling -the exquisite flavor of the oyster, all the delicacies, -in fact, that are cast up by the wash of waters on the sandy -beach, and styled by the grateful fishermen "fruits of the -sea." -"A pretty silence truly" said the old father of the -bridegroom, as he carried to his lips a glass of wine of -the hue and brightness of the topaz, and which had just been -placed before Mercedes herself. "Now, would anybody think -that this room contained a happy, merry party, who desire -nothing better than to laugh and dance the hours away?" -"Ah," sighed Caderousse, "a man cannot always feel happy -because he is about to be married." -"The truth is," replied Dantes, "that I am too happy for -noisy mirth if that is what you meant by your observation, -my worthy friend, you are right joy takes a strange effect -at times, it seems to oppress us almost the same as sorrow." -Danglars looked towards Fernand, whose excitable nature -received and betrayed each fresh impression. -"Why, what ails you?" asked he of Edmond. "Do you fear any -approaching evil? I should say that you were the happiest -man alive at this instant." -"And that is the very thing that alarms me," returned -Dantes. "Man does not appear to me to be intended to enjoy -felicity so unmixed happiness is like the enchanted palaces -we read of in our childhood, where fierce, fiery dragons -defend the entrance and approach and monsters of all shapes -and kinds, requiring to be overcome ere victory is ours. I -own that I am lost in wonder to find myself promoted to an -honor of which I feel myself unworthy that of being the -husband of Mercedes." -"Nay, nay" cried Caderousse, smiling, "you have not -attained that honor yet. Mercedes is not yet your wife. Just -assume the tone and manner of a husband, and see how she -will remind you that your hour is not yet come" -The bride blushed, while Fernand, restless and uneasy, -seemed to start at every fresh sound, and from time to time -wiped away the large drops of perspiration that gathered on -his brow. -"Well, never mind that, neighbor Caderousse it is not worth -while to contradict me for such a trifle as that. 'Tis true -that Mercedes is not actually my wife but," added he, -drawing out his watch, "in an hour and a half she will be." -A general exclamation of surprise ran round the table, with -the exception of the elder Dantes, whose laugh displayed the -still perfect beauty of his large white teeth. Mercedes -looked pleased and gratified, while Fernand grasped the -handle of his knife with a convulsive clutch. -"In an hour?" inquired Danglars, turning pale. "How is that, -my friend?" -"Why, thus it is," replied Dantes. "Thanks to the influence -of M. Morrel, to whom, next to my father, I owe every -blessing I enjoy, every difficulty his been removed. We have -purchased permission to waive the usual delay and at -halfpast two o'clock the mayor of Marseilles will be -waiting for us at the city hall. Now, as a quarterpast one -has already struck, I do not consider I have asserted too -much in saying, that, in another hour and thirty minutes -Mercedes will have become Madame Dantes." -Fernand closed his eyes, a burning sensation passed across -his brow, and he was compelled to support himself by the -table to prevent his falling from his chair but in spite of -all his efforts, he could not refrain from uttering a deep -groan, which, however, was lost amid the noisy felicitations -of the company. -"Upon my word," cried the old man, "you make short work of -this kind of affair. Arrived here only yesterday morning, -and married today at three o'clock Commend me to a sailor -for going the quick way to work" -"But," asked Danglars, in a timid tone, "how did you manage -about the other formalities the contract the -settlement?" -"The contract," answered Dantes, laughingly, "it didn't take -long to fix that. Mercedes has no fortune I have none to -settle on her. So, you see, our papers were quickly written -out, and certainly do not come very expensive." This joke -elicited a fresh burst of applause. -"So that what we presumed to be merely the betrothal feast -turns out to be the actual wedding dinner" said Danglars. -"No, no," answered Dantes "don't imagine I am going to put -you off in that shabby manner. Tomorrow morning I start for -Paris four days to go, and the same to return, with one day -to discharge the commission intrusted to me, is all the time -I shall be absent. I shall be back here by the first of -March, and on the second I give my real marriage feast." -This prospect of fresh festivity redoubled the hilarity of -the guests to such a degree, that the elder Dantes, who, at -the commencement of the repast, had commented upon the -silence that prevailed, now found it difficult, amid the -general din of voices, to obtain a moment's tranquillity in -which to drink to the health and prosperity of the bride and -bridegroom. -Dantes, perceiving the affectionate eagerness of his father, -responded by a look of grateful pleasure while Mercedes -glanced at the clock and made an expressive gesture to -Edmond. -Around the table reigned that noisy hilarity which usually -prevails at such a time among people sufficiently free from -the demands of social position not to feel the trammels of -etiquette. Such as at the commencement of the repast had not -been able to seat themselves according to their inclination -rose unceremoniously, and sought out more agreeable -companions. Everybody talked at once, without waiting for a -reply and each one seemed to be contented with expressing -his or her own thoughts. -Fernand's paleness appeared to have communicated itself to -Danglars. As for Fernand himself, he seemed to be enduring -the tortures of the damned unable to rest, he was among the -first to quit the table, and, as though seeking to avoid the -hilarious mirth that rose in such deafening sounds, he -continued, in utter silence, to pace the farther end of the -salon. -Caderousse approached him just as Danglars, whom Fernand -seemed most anxious to avoid, had joined him in a corner of -the room. -"Upon my word," said Caderousse, from whose mind the -friendly treatment of Dantes, united with the effect of the -excellent wine he had partaken of, had effaced every feeling -of envy or jealousy at Dantes' good fortune, "upon my -word, Dantes is a downright good fellow, and when I see him -sitting there beside his pretty wife that is so soon to be. -I cannot help thinking it would have been a great pity to -have served him that trick you were planning yesterday." -"Oh, there was no harm meant," answered Danglars "at first -I certainly did feel somewhat uneasy as to what Fernand -might be tempted to do but when I saw how completely he had -mastered his feelings, even so far as to become one of his -rival's attendants, I knew there was no further cause for -apprehension." Caderousse looked full at Fernand he was -ghastly pale. -"Certainly," continued Danglars, "the sacrifice was no -trifling one, when the beauty of the bride is concerned. -Upon my soul, that future captain of mine is a lucky dog -Gad, I only wish he would let me take his place." -"Shall we not set forth?" asked the sweet, silvery voice of -Mercedes "two o'clock has just struck, and you know we are -expected in a quarter of an hour." -"To be sure to be sure" cried Dantes, eagerly quitting -the table "let us go directly" -His words were reechoed by the whole party, with vociferous -cheers. -At this moment Danglars, who had been incessantly observing -every change in Fernand's look and manner, saw him stagger -and fall back, with an almost convulsive spasm, against a -seat placed near one of the open windows. At the same -instant his ear caught a sort of indistinct sound on the -stairs, followed by the measured tread of soldiery, with the -clanking of swords and military accoutrements then came a -hum and buzz as of many voices, so as to deaden even the -noisy mirth of the bridal party, among whom a vague feeling -of curiosity and apprehension quelled every disposition to -talk, and almost instantaneously the most deathlike -stillness prevailed. -The sounds drew nearer. Three blows were struck upon the -panel of the door. The company looked at each other in -consternation. -"I demand admittance," said a loud voice outside the room, -"in the name of the law" As no attempt was made to prevent -it, the door was opened, and a magistrate, wearing his -official scarf, presented himself, followed by four soldiers -and a corporal. Uneasiness now yielded to the most extreme -dread on the part of those present. -"May I venture to inquire the reason of this unexpected -visit?" said M. Morrel, addressing the magistrate, whom he -evidently knew "there is doubtless some mistake easily -explained." -"If it be so," replied the magistrate, "rely upon every -reparation being made meanwhile, I am the bearer of an -order of arrest, and although I most reluctantly perform the -task assigned me, it must, nevertheless, be fulfilled. Who -among the persons here assembled answers to the name of -Edmond Dantes?" Every eye was turned towards the young man -who, spite of the agitation he could not but feel, advanced -with dignity, and said, in a firm voice, "I am he what is -your pleasure with me?" -"Edmond Dantes," replied the magistrate, "I arrest you in -the name of the law" -"Me" repeated Edmond, slightly changing color, "and -wherefore, I pray?" -"I cannot inform you, but you will be duly acquainted with -the reasons that have rendered such a step necessary at the -preliminary examination." -M. Morrel felt that further resistance or remonstrance was -useless. He saw before him an officer delegated to enforce -the law, and perfectly well knew that it would be as -unavailing to seek pity from a magistrate decked with his -official scarf, as to address a petition to some cold marble -effigy. Old Dantes, however, sprang forward. There are -situations which the heart of a father or a mother cannot be -made to understand. He prayed and supplicated in terms so -moving, that even the officer was touched, and, although -firm in his duty, he kindly said, "My worthy friend, let me -beg of you to calm your apprehensions. Your son has probably -neglected some prescribed form or attention in registering -his cargo, and it is more than probable he will be set at -liberty directly he has given the information required, -whether touching the health of his crew, or the value of his -freight." -"What is the meaning of all this?" inquired Caderousse, -frowningly, of Danglars, who had assumed an air of utter -surprise. -"How can I tell you?" replied he "I am, like yourself, -utterly bewildered at all that is going on, and cannot in -the least make out what it is about." Caderousse then looked -around for Fernand, but he had disappeared. -The scene of the previous night now came back to his mind -with startling clearness. The painful catastrophe he had -just witnessed appeared effectually to have rent away the -veil which the intoxication of the evening before had raised -between himself and his memory. -"So, so," said he, in a hoarse and choking voice, to -Danglars, "this, then, I suppose, is a part of the trick you -were concerting yesterday? All I can say is, that if it be -so, 'tis an ill turn, and well deserves to bring double evil -on those who have projected it." -"Nonsense," returned Danglars, "I tell you again I have -nothing whatever to do with it besides, you know very well -that I tore the paper to pieces." -"No, you did not" answered Caderousse, "you merely threw it -by I saw it lying in a corner." -"Hold your tongue, you fool what should you know about -it? why, you were drunk" -"Where is Fernand?" inquired Caderousse. -"How do I know?" replied Danglars "gone, as every prudent -man ought to be, to look after his own affairs, most likely. -Never mind where he is, let you and I go and see what is to -be done for our poor friends." -During this conversation, Dantes, after having exchanged a -cheerful shake of the hand with all his sympathizing -friends, had surrendered himself to the officer sent to -arrest him, merely saying, "Make yourselves quite easy, my -good fellows, there is some little mistake to clear up, -that's all, depend upon it and very likely I may not have -to go so far as the prison to effect that." -"Oh, to be sure" responded Danglars, who had now approached -the group, "nothing more than a mistake, I feel quite -certain." -Dantes descended the staircase, preceded by the magistrate, -and followed by the soldiers. A carriage awaited him at the -door he got in, followed by two soldiers and the -magistrate, and the vehicle drove off towards Marseilles. -"Adieu, adieu, dearest Edmond" cried Mercedes, stretching -out her arms to him from the balcony. -The prisoner heard the cry, which sounded like the sob of a -broken heart, and leaning from the coach he called out, -"Goodby, Mercedes we shall soon meet again" Then the -vehicle disappeared round one of the turnings of Fort Saint -Nicholas. -"Wait for me here, all of you" cried M. Morrel "I will -take the first conveyance I find, and hurry to Marseilles, -whence I will bring you word how all is going on." -"That's right" exclaimed a multitude of voices, "go, and -return as quickly as you can" -This second departure was followed by a long and fearful -state of terrified silence on the part of those who were -left behind. The old father and Mercedes remained for some -time apart, each absorbed in grief but at length the two -poor victims of the same blow raised their eyes, and with a -simultaneous burst of feeling rushed into each other's arms. -Meanwhile Fernand made his appearance, poured out for -himself a glass of water with a trembling hand then hastily -swallowing it, went to sit down at the first vacant place, -and this was, by mere chance, placed next to the seat on -which poor Mercedes had fallen half fainting, when released -from the warm and affectionate embrace of old Dantes. -Instinctively Fernand drew back his chair. -"He is the cause of all this misery I am quite sure of -it," whispered Caderousse, who had never taken his eyes off -Fernand, to Danglars. -"I don't think so," answered the other he's too stupid to -imagine such a scheme. I only hope the mischief will fall -upon the head of whoever wrought it." -"You don't mention those who aided and abetted the deed," -said Caderousse. -"Surely," answered Danglars, "one cannot be held responsible -for every chance arrow shot into the air." -"You can, indeed, when the arrow lights point downward on -somebody's head." -Meantime the subject of the arrest was being canvassed in -every different form. -"What think you, Danglars," said one of the party, turning -towards him, "of this event?" -"Why," replied he, "I think it just possible Dantes may have -been detected with some trifling article on board ship -considered here as contraband." -"But how could he have done so without your knowledge, -Danglars, since you are the ship's supercargo?" -"Why, as for that, I could only know what I was told -respecting the merchandise with which the vessel was laden. -I know she was loaded with cotton, and that she took in her -freight at Alexandria from Pastret's warehouse, and at -Smyrna from Pascal's that is all I was obliged to know, and -I beg I may not be asked for any further particulars." -"Now I recollect," said the afflicted old father "my poor -boy told me yesterday he had got a small case of coffee, and -another of tobacco for me" -"There, you see," exclaimed Danglars. "Now the mischief is -out depend upon it the customhouse people went rummaging -about the ship in our absence, and discovered poor Dantes' -hidden treasures." -Mercedes, however, paid no heed to this explanation of her -lover's arrest. Her grief, which she had hitherto tried to -restrain, now burst out in a violent fit of hysterical -sobbing. -"Come, come," said the old man, "be comforted, my poor -child there is still hope" -"Hope" repeated Danglars. -"Hope" faintly murmured Fernand, but the word seemed to die -away on his pale agitated lips, and a convulsive spasm -passed over his countenance. -"Good news good news" shouted forth one of the party -stationed in the balcony on the lookout. "Here comes M. -Morrel back. No doubt, now, we shall hear that our friend is -released" -Mercedes and the old man rushed to meet the shipowner and -greeted him at the door. He was very pale. -"What news?" exclaimed a general burst of voices. -"Alas, my friends," replied M. Morrel, with a mournful shake -of his head, "the thing has assumed a more serious aspect -than I expected." -"Oh, indeed indeed, sir, he is innocent" sobbed forth -Mercedes. -"That I believe" answered M. Morrel "but still he is -charged" -"With what?" inquired the elder Dantes. -"With being an agent of the Bonapartist faction" Many of -our readers may be able to recollect how formidable such an -accusation became in the period at which our story is dated. -A despairing cry escaped the pale lips of Mercedes the old -man sank into a chair. -"Ah, Danglars" whispered Caderousse, "you have deceived me -the trick you spoke of last night has been played but I -cannot suffer a poor old man or an innocent girl to die of -grief through your fault. I am determined to tell them all -about it." -"Be silent, you simpleton" cried Danglars, grasping him by -the arm, "or I will not answer even for your own safety. Who -can tell whether Dantes be innocent or guilty? The vessel -did touch at Elba, where he quitted it, and passed a whole -day in the island. Now, should any letters or other -documents of a compromising character be found upon him, -will it not be taken for granted that all who uphold him are -his accomplices?" -With the rapid instinct of selfishness, Caderousse readily -perceived the solidity of this mode of reasoning he gazed, -doubtfully, wistfully, on Danglars, and then caution -supplanted generosity. -"Suppose we wait a while, and see what comes of it," said -he, casting a bewildered look on his companion. -"To be sure" answered Danglars. "Let us wait, by all means. -If he be innocent, of course he will be set at liberty if -guilty, why, it is no use involving ourselves in a -conspiracy." -"Let us go, then. I cannot stay here any longer." -"With all my heart" replied Danglars, pleased to find the -other so tractable. "Let us take ourselves out of the way, -and leave things for the present to take their course." -After their departure, Fernand, who had now again become the -friend and protector of Mercedes, led the girl to her home, -while the friends of Dantes conducted the now halffainting -man back to his abode. -The rumor of Edmond's arrest as a Bonapartist agent was not -slow in circulating throughout the city. -"Could you ever have credited such a thing, my dear -Danglars?" asked M. Morrel, as, on his return to the port -for the purpose of gleaning fresh tidings of Dantes, from M. -de Villefort, the assistant procureur, he overtook his -supercargo and Caderousse. "Could you have believed such a -thing possible?" -"Why, you know I told you," replied Danglars, "that I -considered the circumstance of his having anchored at the -Island of Elba as a very suspicious circumstance." -"And did you mention these suspicions to any person beside -myself?" -"Certainly not" returned Danglars. Then added in a low -whisper, "You understand that, on account of your uncle, M. -Policar Morrel, who served under the other government, and -who does not altogether conceal what he thinks on the -subject, you are strongly suspected of regretting the -abdication of Napoleon. I should have feared to injure both -Edmond and yourself, had I divulged my own apprehensions to -a soul. I am too well aware that though a subordinate, like -myself, is bound to acquaint the shipowner with everything -that occurs, there are many things he ought most carefully -to conceal from all else." -"'Tis well, Danglars 'tis well" replied M. Morrel. "You -are a worthy fellow and I had already thought of your -interests in the event of poor Edmond having become captain -of the Pharaon." -"Is it possible you were so kind?" -"Yes, indeed I had previously inquired of Dantes what was -his opinion of you, and if he should have any reluctance to -continue you in your post, for somehow I have perceived a -sort of coolness between you." -"And what was his reply?" -"That he certainly did think he had given you offence in an -affair which he merely referred to without entering into -particulars, but that whoever possessed the good opinion and -confidence of the ship's owner would have his preference -also." -"The hypocrite" murmured Danglars. -"Poor Dantes" said Caderousse. "No one can deny his being a -noblehearted young fellow." -"But meanwhile," continued M. Morrel, "here is the Pharaon -without a captain." -"Oh," replied Danglars, "since we cannot leave this port for -the next three months, let us hope that ere the expiration -of that period Dantes will be set at liberty." -"No doubt but in the meantime?" -"I am entirely at your service, M. Morrel," answered -Danglars. "You know that I am as capable of managing a ship -as the most experienced captain in the service and it will -be so far advantageous to you to accept my services, that -upon Edmond's release from prison no further change will be -requisite on board the Pharaon than for Dantes and myself -each to resume our respective posts." -"Thanks, Danglars that will smooth over all difficulties. -I fully authorize you at once to assume the command of the -Pharaon, and look carefully to the unloading of her freight. -Private misfortunes must never be allowed to interfere with -business." -"Be easy on that score, M. Morrel but do you think we shall -be permitted to see our poor Edmond?" -"I will let you know that directly I have seen M. de -Villefort, whom I shall endeavor to interest in Edmond's -favor. I am aware he is a furious royalist but, in spite of -that, and of his being king's attorney, he is a man like -ourselves, and I fancy not a bad sort of one." -"Perhaps not," replied Danglars "but I hear that he is -ambitious, and that's rather against him." -"Well, well," returned M. Morrel, "we shall see. But now -hasten on board, I will join you there ere long." So saying, -the worthy shipowner quitted the two allies, and proceeded -in the direction of the Palais de Justice. -"You see," said Danglars, addressing Caderousse, "the turn -things have taken. Do you still feel any desire to stand up -in his defence?" -"Not the slightest, but yet it seems to me a shocking thing -that a mere joke should lead to such consequences." -"But who perpetrated that joke, let me ask? neither you nor -myself, but Fernand you knew very well that I threw the -paper into a corner of the room indeed, I fancied I had -destroyed it." -"Oh, no," replied Caderousse, "that I can answer for, you -did not. I only wish I could see it now as plainly as I saw -it lying all crushed and crumpled in a corner of the arbor." -"Well, then, if you did, depend upon it, Fernand picked it -up, and either copied it or caused it to be copied perhaps, -even, he did not take the trouble of recopying it. And now I -think of it, by Heavens, he may have sent the letter itself -Fortunately, for me, the handwriting was disguised." -"Then you were aware of Dantes being engaged in a -conspiracy?" -"Not I. As I before said, I thought the whole thing was a -joke, nothing more. It seems, however, that I have -unconsciously stumbled upon the truth." -"Still," argued Caderousse, "I would give a great deal if -nothing of the kind had happened or, at least, that I had -had no hand in it. You will see, Danglars, that it will turn -out an unlucky job for both of us." -"Nonsense If any harm come of it, it should fall on the -guilty person and that, you know, is Fernand. How can we be -implicated in any way? All we have got to do is, to keep our -own counsel, and remain perfectly quiet, not breathing a -word to any living soul and you will see that the storm -will pass away without in the least affecting us." -"Amen" responded Caderousse, waving his hand in token of -adieu to Danglars, and bending his steps towards the Allees -de Meillan, moving his head to and fro, and muttering as he -went, after the manner of one whose mind was overcharged -with one absorbing idea. -"So far, then," said Danglars, mentally, "all has gone as I -would have it. I am, temporarily, commander of the Pharaon, -with the certainty of being permanently so, if that fool of -a Caderousse can be persuaded to hold his tongue. My only -fear is the chance of Dantes being released. But, there, he -is in the hands of Justice and," added he with a smile, -"she will take her own." So saying, he leaped into a boat, -desiring to be rowed on board the Pharaon, where M. Morrel -had agreed to meet him. -Chapter -The Deputy Procureur du Roi. -In one of the aristocratic mansions built by Puget in the -Rue du Grand Cours opposite the Medusa fountain, a second -marriage feast was being celebrated, almost at the same hour -with the nuptial repast given by Dantes. In this case, -however, although the occasion of the entertainment was -similar, the company was strikingly dissimilar. Instead of a -rude mixture of sailors, soldiers, and those belonging to -the humblest grade of life, the present assembly was -composed of the very flower of Marseilles society, -magistrates who had resigned their office during the -usurper's reign officers who had deserted from the imperial -army and joined forces with Conde and younger members of -families, brought up to hate and execrate the man whom five -years of exile would convert into a martyr, and fifteen of -restoration elevate to the rank of a god. -The guests were still at table, and the heated and energetic -conversation that prevailed betrayed the violent and -vindictive passions that then agitated each dweller of the -South, where unhappily, for five centuries religious strife -had long given increased bitterness to the violence of party -feeling. -The emperor, now king of the petty Island of Elba, after -having held sovereign sway over onehalf of the world, -counting as his subjects a small population of five or six -thousand souls, after having been accustomed to hear the -"Vive Napoleons" of a hundred and twenty millions of human -beings, uttered in ten different languages, was looked -upon here as a ruined man, separated forever from any fresh -connection with France or claim to her throne. -The magistrates freely discussed their political views the -military part of the company talked unreservedly of Moscow -and Leipsic, while the women commented on the divorce of -Josephine. It was not over the downfall of the man, but over -the defeat of the Napoleonic idea, that they rejoiced, and -in this they foresaw for themselves the bright and cheering -prospect of a revivified political existence. -An old man, decorated with the cross of Saint Louis, now -rose and proposed the health of King Louis XVIII. It was the -Marquis de SaintMeran. This toast, recalling at once the -patient exile of Hartwell and the peaceloving King of -France, excited universal enthusiasm glasses were elevated -in the air a l'Anglais, and the ladies, snatching their -bouquets from their fair bosoms, strewed the table with -their floral treasures. In a word, an almost poetical fervor -prevailed. -"Ah," said the Marquise de SaintMeran, a woman with a -stern, forbidding eye, though still noble and distinguished -in appearance, despite her fifty years "ah, these -revolutionists, who have driven us from those very -possessions they afterwards purchased for a mere trifle -during the Reign of Terror, would be compelled to own, were -they here, that all true devotion was on our side, since we -were content to follow the fortunes of a falling monarch, -while they, on the contrary, made their fortune by -worshipping the rising sun yes, yes, they could not help -admitting that the king, for whom we sacrificed rank, -wealth, and station was truly our "Louis the wellbeloved,' -while their wretched usurper his been, and ever will be, to -them their evil genius, their "Napoleon the accursed.' Am I -not right, Villefort?" -"I beg your pardon, madame. I really must pray you to excuse -me, but in truth I was not attending to the -conversation." -"Marquise, marquise" interposed the old nobleman who had -proposed the toast, "let the young people alone let me tell -you, on one's wedding day there are more agreeable subjects -of conversation than dry politics." -"Never mind, dearest mother," said a young and lovely girl, -with a profusion of light brown hair, and eyes that seemed -to float in liquid crystal, "'tis all my fault for seizing -upon M. de Villefort, so as to prevent his listening to what -you said. But there now take him he is your own for as -long as you like. M. Villefort, I beg to remind you my -mother speaks to you." -"If the marquise will deign to repeat the words I but -imperfectly caught, I shall be delighted to answer," said M. -de Villefort. -"Never mind, Renee," replied the marquise, with a look of -tenderness that seemed out of keeping with her harsh dry -features but, however all other feelings may be withered in -a woman's nature, there is always one bright smiling spot in -the desert of her heart, and that is the shrine of maternal -love. "I forgive you. What I was saying, Villefort, was, -that the Bonapartists had not our sincerity, enthusiasm, or -devotion." -"They had, however, what supplied the place of those fine -qualities," replied the young man, "and that was fanaticism. -Napoleon is the Mahomet of the West, and is worshipped by -his commonplace but ambitions followers, not only as a -leader and lawgiver, but also as the personification of -equality." -"He" cried the marquise "Napoleon the type of equality -For mercy's sake, then, what would you call Robespierre? -Come, come, do not strip the latter of his just rights to -bestow them on the Corsican, who, to my mind, has usurped -quite enough." -"Nay, madame I would place each of these heroes on his -right pedestal that of Robespierre on his scaffold in the -Place Louis Quinze that of Napoleon on the column of the -Place Vendome. The only difference consists in the opposite -character of the equality advocated by these two men one is -the equality that elevates, the other is the equality that -degrades one brings a king within reach of the guillotine, -the other elevates the people to a level with the throne. -Observe," said Villefort, smiling, "I do not mean to deny -that both these men were revolutionary scoundrels, and that -the th Thermidor and the th of April, in the year , -were lucky days for France, worthy of being gratefully -remembered by every friend to monarchy and civil order and -that explains how it comes to pass that, fallen, as I trust -he is forever, Napoleon has still retained a train of -parasitical satellites. Still, marquise, it has been so with -other usurpers Cromwell, for instance, who was not half -so bad as Napoleon, had his partisans and advocates." -"Do you know, Villefort, that you are talking in a most -dreadfully revolutionary strain? But I excuse it, it is -impossible to expect the son of a Girondin to be free from a -small spice of the old leaven." A deep crimson suffused the -countenance of Villefort. -"'Tis true, madame," answered he, "that my father was a -Girondin, but he was not among the number of those who voted -for the king's death he was an equal sufferer with yourself -during the Reign of Terror, and had wellnigh lost his head -on the same scaffold on which your father perished." -"True," replied the marquise, without wincing in the -slightest degree at the tragic remembrance thus called up -"but bear in mind, if you please, that our respective -parents underwent persecution and proscription from -diametrically opposite principles in proof of which I may -remark, that while my family remained among the stanchest -adherents of the exiled princes, your father lost no time in -joining the new government and that while the Citizen -Noirtier was a Girondin, the Count Noirtier became a -senator." -"Dear mother," interposed Renee, "you know very well it was -agreed that all these disagreeable reminiscences should -forever be laid aside." -"Suffer me, also, madame," replied Villefort, "to add my -earnest request to Mademoiselle de SaintMeran's, that you -will kindly allow the veil of oblivion to cover and conceal -the past. What avails recrimination over matters wholly past -recall? For my own part, I have laid aside even the name of -my father, and altogether disown his political principles. -He was nay, probably may still be a Bonapartist, and -is called Noirtier I, on the contrary, am a stanch -royalist, and style myself de Villefort. Let what may remain -of revolutionary sap exhaust itself and die away with the -old trunk, and condescend only to regard the young shoot -which has started up at a distance from the parent tree, -without having the power, any more than the wish, to -separate entirely from the stock from which it sprung." -"Bravo, Villefort" cried the marquis "excellently well -said Come, now, I have hopes of obtaining what I have been -for years endeavoring to persuade the marquise to promise -namely, a perfect amnesty and forgetfulness of the past." -"With all my heart," replied the marquise "let the past be -forever forgotten. I promise you it affords me as little -pleasure to revive it as it does you. All I ask is, that -Villefort will be firm and inflexible for the future in his -political principles. Remember, also, Villefort, that we -have pledged ourselves to his majesty for your fealty and -strict loyalty, and that at our recommendation the king -consented to forget the past, as I do" and here she -extended to him her hand "as I now do at your entreaty. -But bear in mind, that should there fall in your way any one -guilty of conspiring against the government, you will be so -much the more bound to visit the offence with rigorous -punishment, as it is known you belong to a suspected -family." -"Alas, madame," returned Villefort, "my profession, as well -as the times in which we live, compels me to be severe. I -have already successfully conducted several public -prosecutions, and brought the offenders to merited -punishment. But we have not done with the thing yet." -"Do you, indeed, think so?" inquired the marquise. -"I am, at least, fearful of it. Napoleon, in the Island of -Elba, is too near France, and his proximity keeps up the -hopes of his partisans. Marseilles is filled with halfpay -officers, who are daily, under one frivolous pretext or -other, getting up quarrels with the royalists from hence -arise continual and fatal duels among the higher classes of -persons, and assassinations in the lower." -"You have heard, perhaps," said the Comte de Salvieux, one -of M. de SaintMeran's oldest friends, and chamberlain to -the Comte d'Artois, "that the Holy Alliance purpose removing -him from thence?" -"Yes they were talking about it when we left Paris," said -M. de SaintMeran "and where is it decided to transfer -him?" -"To Saint Helena." -"For heaven's sake, where is that?" asked the marquise. -"An island situated on the other side of the equator, at -least two thousand leagues from here," replied the count. -"So much the better. As Villefort observes, it is a great -act of folly to have left such a man between Corsica, where -he was born, and Naples, of which his brotherinlaw is -king, and face to face with Italy, the sovereignty of which -he coveted for his son." -"Unfortunately," said Villefort, "there are the treaties of -, and we cannot molest Napoleon without breaking those -compacts." -"Oh, well, we shall find some way out of it," responded M. -de Salvieux. "There wasn't any trouble over treaties when it -was a question of shooting the poor Duc d'Enghien." -"Well," said the marquise, "it seems probable that, by the -aid of the Holy Alliance, we shall be rid of Napoleon and -we must trust to the vigilance of M. de Villefort to purify -Marseilles of his partisans. The king is either a king or no -king if he be acknowledged as sovereign of France, he -should be upheld in peace and tranquillity and this can -best be effected by employing the most inflexible agents to -put down every attempt at conspiracy 'tis the best and -surest means of preventing mischief." -"Unfortunately, madame," answered Villefort, "the strong arm -of the law is not called upon to interfere until the evil -has taken place." -"Then all he has got to do is to endeavor to repair it." -"Nay, madame, the law is frequently powerless to effect -this all it can do is to avenge the wrong done." -"Oh, M. de Villefort," cried a beautiful young creature, -daughter to the Comte de Salvieux, and the cherished friend -of Mademoiselle de SaintMeran, "do try and get up some -famous trial while we are at Marseilles. I never was in a -lawcourt I am told it is so very amusing" -"Amusing, certainly," replied the young man, "inasmuch as, -instead of shedding tears as at the fictitious tale of woe -produced at a theatre, you behold in a lawcourt a case of -real and genuine distress a drama of life. The prisoner -whom you there see pale, agitated, and alarmed, instead of -as is the case when a curtain falls on a tragedy going -home to sup peacefully with his family, and then retiring to -rest, that he may recommence his mimic woes on the morrow, -is removed from your sight merely to be reconducted to -his prison and delivered up to the executioner. I leave you -to judge how far your nerves are calculated to bear you -through such a scene. Of this, however, be assured, that -should any favorable opportunity present itself, I will not -fail to offer you the choice of being present." -"For shame, M. de Villefort" said Renee, becoming quite -pale "don't you see how you are frightening us? and yet -you laugh." -"What would you have? 'Tis like a duel. I have already -recorded sentence of death, five or six times, against the -movers of political conspiracies, and who can say how many -daggers may be ready sharpened, and only waiting a favorable -opportunity to be buried in my heart?" -"Gracious heavens, M. de Villefort," said Renee, becoming -more and more terrified "you surely are not in earnest." -"Indeed I am," replied the young magistrate with a smile -"and in the interesting trial that young lady is anxious to -witness, the case would only be still more aggravated. -Suppose, for instance, the prisoner, as is more than -probable, to have served under Napoleon well, can you -expect for an instant, that one accustomed, at the word of -his commander, to rush fearlessly on the very bayonets of -his foe, will scruple more to drive a stiletto into the -heart of one he knows to be his personal enemy, than to -slaughter his fellowcreatures, merely because bidden to do -so by one he is bound to obey? Besides, one requires the -excitement of being hateful in the eyes of the accused, in -order to lash one's self into a state of sufficient -vehemence and power. I would not choose to see the man -against whom I pleaded smile, as though in mockery of my -words. No my pride is to see the accused pale, agitated, -and as though beaten out of all composure by the fire of my -eloquence." Renee uttered a smothered exclamation. -"Bravo" cried one of the guests "that is what I call -talking to some purpose." -"Just the person we require at a time like the present," -said a second. -"What a splendid business that last case of yours was, my -dear Villefort" remarked a third "I mean the trial of the -man for murdering his father. Upon my word, you killed him -ere the executioner had laid his hand upon him." -"Oh, as for parricides, and such dreadful people as that," -interposed Renee, "it matters very little what is done to -them but as regards poor unfortunate creatures whose only -crime consists in having mixed themselves up in political -intrigues" -"Why, that is the very worst offence they could possibly -commit for, don't you see, Renee, the king is the father of -his people, and he who shall plot or contrive aught against -the life and safety of the parent of thirtytwo millions of -souls, is a parricide upon a fearfully great scale?" -"I don't know anything about that," replied Renee "but, M. -de Villefort, you have promised me have you not? -always to show mercy to those I plead for." -"Make yourself quite easy on that point," answered -Villefort, with one of his sweetest smiles "you and I will -always consult upon our verdicts." -"My love," said the marquise, "attend to your doves, your -lapdogs, and embroidery, but do not meddle with what you do -not understand. Nowadays the military profession is in -abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. -There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point." -"Cedant arma togae," said Villefort with a bow. -"I cannot speak Latin," responded the marquise. -"Well," said Renee, "I cannot help regretting you had not -chosen some other profession than your own a physician, -for instance. Do you know I always felt a shudder at the -idea of even a destroying angel?" -"Dear, good Renee," whispered Villefort, as he gazed with -unutterable tenderness on the lovely speaker. -"Let us hope, my child," cried the marquis, "that M. de -Villefort may prove the moral and political physician of -this province if so, he will have achieved a noble work." -"And one which will go far to efface the recollection of his -father's conduct," added the incorrigible marquise. -"Madame," replied Villefort, with a mournful smile, "I have -already had the honor to observe that my father has at -least, I hope so abjured his past errors, and that he is, -at the present moment, a firm and zealous friend to religion -and order a better royalist, possibly, than his son for -he has to atone for past dereliction, while I have no other -impulse than warm, decided preference and conviction." -Having made this wellturned speech, Villefort looked -carefully around to mark the effect of his oratory, much as -he would have done had he been addressing the bench in open -court. -"Do you know, my dear Villefort," cried the Comte de -Salvieux, "that is exactly what I myself said the other day -at the Tuileries, when questioned by his majesty's principal -chamberlain touching the singularity of an alliance between -the son of a Girondin and the daughter of an officer of the -Duc de Conde and I assure you he seemed fully to comprehend -that this mode of reconciling political differences was -based upon sound and excellent principles. Then the king, -who, without our suspecting it, had overheard our -conversation, interrupted us by saying, "Villefort' -observe that the king did not pronounce the word Noirtier, -but, on the contrary, placed considerable emphasis on that -of Villefort "Villefort,' said his majesty, "is a young -man of great judgment and discretion, who will be sure to -make a figure in his profession I like him much, and it -gave me great pleasure to hear that he was about to become -the soninlaw of the Marquis and Marquise de SaintMeran. I -should myself have recommended the match, had not the noble -marquis anticipated my wishes by requesting my consent to -it.'" -"Is it possible the king could have condescended so far as -to express himself so favorably of me?" asked the enraptured -Villefort. -"I give you his very words and if the marquis chooses to be -candid, he will confess that they perfectly agree with what -his majesty said to him, when he went six months ago to -consult him upon the subject of your espousing his -daughter." -"That is true," answered the marquis. -"How much do I owe this gracious prince What is there I -would not do to evince my earnest gratitude" -"That is right," cried the marquise. "I love to see you -thus. Now, then, were a conspirator to fall into your hands, -he would be most welcome." -"For my part, dear mother." interposed Renee, "I trust your -wishes will not prosper, and that Providence will only -permit petty offenders, poor debtors, and miserable cheats -to fall into M. de Villefort's hands, then I shall be -contented." -"Just the same as though you prayed that a physician might -only be called upon to prescribe for headaches, measles, and -the stings of wasps, or any other slight affection of the -epidermis. If you wish to see me the king's attorney, you -must desire for me some of those violent and dangerous -diseases from the cure of which so much honor redounds to -the physician." -At this moment, and as though the utterance of Villefort's -wish had sufficed to effect its accomplishment, a servant -entered the room, and whispered a few words in his ear. -Villefort immediately rose from table and quitted the room -upon the plea of urgent business he soon, however, -returned, his whole face beaming with delight. Renee -regarded him with fond affection and certainly his handsome -features, lit up as they then were with more than usual fire -and animation, seemed formed to excite the innocent -admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and -intelligent lover. -"You were wishing just now," said Villefort, addressing her, -"that I were a doctor instead of a lawyer. Well, I at least -resemble the disciples of Esculapius in one thing that of -not being able to call a day my own, not even that of my -betrothal." -"And wherefore were you called away just now?" asked -Mademoiselle de SaintMeran, with an air of deep interest. -"For a very serious matter, which bids fair to make work for -the executioner." -"How dreadful" exclaimed Renee, turning pale. -"Is it possible?" burst simultaneously from all who were -near enough to the magistrate to hear his words. -"Why, if my information prove correct, a sort of Bonaparte -conspiracy has just been discovered." -"Can I believe my ears?" cried the marquise. -"I will read you the letter containing the accusation, at -least," said Villefort -""The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne -and the religions institutions of his country, that one -named Edmond Dantes, mate of the ship Pharaon, this day -arrived from Smyrna, after having touched at Naples and -PortoFerrajo, has been the bearer of a letter from Murat to -the usurper, and again taken charge of another letter from -the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample -corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting -the abovementioned Edmond Dantes, who either carries the -letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father's -abode. Should it not be found in the possession of father or -son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin -belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon.'" -"But," said Renee, "this letter, which, after all, is but an -anonymous scrawl, is not even addressed to you, but to the -king's attorney." -"True but that gentleman being absent, his secretary, by -his orders, opened his letters thinking this one of -importance, he sent for me, but not finding me, took upon -himself to give the necessary orders for arresting the -accused party." -"Then the guilty person is absolutely in custody?" said the -marquise. -"Nay, dear mother, say the accused person. You know we -cannot yet pronounce him guilty." -"He is in safe custody," answered Villefort "and rely upon -it, if the letter is found, he will not be likely to be -trusted abroad again, unless he goes forth under the -especial protection of the headsman." -"And where is the unfortunate being?" asked Renee. -"He is at my house." -"Come, come, my friend," interrupted the marquise, "do not -neglect your duty to linger with us. You are the king's -servant, and must go wherever that service calls you." -"O Villefort" cried Renee, clasping her hands, and looking -towards her lover with piteous earnestness, "be merciful on -this the day of our betrothal." -The young man passed round to the side of the table where -the fair pleader sat, and leaning over her chair said -tenderly, -"To give you pleasure, my sweet Renee, I promise to show all -the lenity in my power but if the charges brought against -this Bonapartist hero prove correct, why, then, you really -must give me leave to order his head to be cut off." Renee -shuddered. -"Never mind that foolish girl, Villefort," said the -marquise. "She will soon get over these things." So saying, -Madame de SaintMeran extended her dry bony hand to -Villefort, who, while imprinting a soninlaw's respectful -salute on it, looked at Renee, as much as to say, "I must -try and fancy 'tis your dear hand I kiss, as it should have -been." -"These are mournful auspices to accompany a betrothal," -sighed poor Renee. -"Upon my word, child" exclaimed the angry marquise, "your -folly exceeds all bounds. I should be glad to know what -connection there can possibly be between your sickly -sentimentality and the affairs of the state" -"O mother" murmured Renee. -"Nay, madame, I pray you pardon this little traitor. I -promise you that to make up for her want of loyalty, I will -be most inflexibly severe" then casting an expressive -glance at his betrothed, which seemed to say, "Fear not, for -your dear sake my justice shall be tempered with mercy," and -receiving a sweet and approving smile in return, Villefort -quitted the room. -Chapter -The Examination. -No sooner had Villefort left the salon, than he assumed the -grave air of a man who holds the balance of life and death -in his hands. Now, in spite of the mobility of his -countenance, the command of which, like a finished actor, he -had carefully studied before the glass, it was by no means -easy for him to assume an air of judicial severity. Except -the recollection of the line of politics his father had -adopted, and which might interfere, unless he acted with the -greatest prudence, with his own career, Gerard de Villefort -was as happy as a man could be. Already rich, he held a high -official situation, though only twentyseven. He was about -to marry a young and charming woman, whom he loved, not -passionately, but reasonably, as became a deputy attorney of -the king and besides her personal attractions, which were -very great, Mademoiselle de SaintMeran's family possessed -considerable political influence, which they would, of -course, exert in his favor. The dowry of his wife amounted -to fifty thousand crowns, and he had, besides, the prospect -of seeing her fortune increased to half a million at her -father's death. These considerations naturally gave -Villefort a feeling of such complete felicity that his mind -was fairly dazzled in its contemplation. -At the door he met the commissary of police, who was waiting -for him. The sight of this officer recalled Villefort from -the third heaven to earth he composed his face, as we have -before described, and said, "I have read the letter, sir, -and you have acted rightly in arresting this man now inform -me what you have discovered concerning him and the -conspiracy." -"We know nothing as yet of the conspiracy, monsieur all the -papers found have been sealed up and placed on your desk. -The prisoner himself is named Edmond Dantes, mate on board -the threemaster the Pharaon, trading in cotton with -Alexandria and Smyrna, and belonging to Morrel Son, of -Marseilles." -"Before he entered the merchant service, had he ever served -in the marines?" -"Oh, no, monsieur, he is very young." -"How old?" -"Nineteen or twenty at the most." -At this moment, and as Villefort had arrived at the corner -of the Rue des Conseils, a man, who seemed to have been -waiting for him, approached it was M. Morrel. -"Ah, M. de Villefort," cried he, "I am delighted to see you. -Some of your people have committed the strangest mistake -they have just arrested Edmond Dantes, mate of my vessel." -"I know it, monsieur," replied Villefort, "and I am now -going to examine him." -"Oh," said Morrel, carried away by his friendship, "you do -not know him, and I do. He is the most estimable, the most -trustworthy creature in the world, and I will venture to -say, there is not a better seaman in all the merchant -service. Oh, M. de Villefort, I beseech your indulgence for -him." -Villefort, as we have seen, belonged to the aristocratic -party at Marseilles, Morrel to the plebeian the first was a -royalist, the other suspected of Bonapartism. Villefort -looked disdainfully at Morrel, and replied, -"You are aware, monsieur, that a man may be estimable and -trustworthy in private life, and the best seaman in the -merchant service, and yet be, politically speaking, a great -criminal. Is it not true?" -The magistrate laid emphasis on these words, as if he wished -to apply them to the owner himself, while his eyes seemed to -plunge into the heart of one who, interceding for another, -had himself need of indulgence. Morrel reddened, for his own -conscience was not quite clear on politics besides, what -Dantes had told him of his interview with the grandmarshal, -and what the emperor had said to him, embarrassed him. He -replied, however, -"I entreat you, M. de Villefort, be, as you always are, kind -and equitable, and give him back to us soon." This give us -sounded revolutionary in the deputy's ears. -"Ah, ah," murmured he, "is Dantes then a member of some -Carbonari society, that his protector thus employs the -collective form? He was, if I recollect, arrested in a -tavern, in company with a great many others." Then he added, -"Monsieur, you may rest assured I shall perform my duty -impartially, and that if he be innocent you shall not have -appealed to me in vain should he, however, be guilty, in -this present epoch, impunity would furnish a dangerous -example, and I must do my duty." -As he had now arrived at the door of his own house, which -adjoined the Palais de Justice, he entered, after having, -coldly saluted the shipowner, who stood, as if petrified, on -the spot where Villefort had left him. The antechamber was -full of police agents and gendarmes, in the midst of whom, -carefully watched, but calm and smiling, stood the prisoner. -Villefort traversed the antechamber, cast a side glance at -Dantes, and taking a packet which a gendarme offered him, -disappeared, saying, "Bring in the prisoner." -Rapid as had been Villefort's glance, it had served to give -him an idea of the man he was about to interrogate. He had -recognized intelligence in the high forehead, courage in the -dark eye and bent brow, and frankness in the thick lips that -showed a set of pearly teeth. Villefort's first impression -was favorable but he had been so often warned to mistrust -first impulses, that he applied the maxim to the impression, -forgetting the difference between the two words. He stifled, -therefore, the feelings of compassion that were rising, -composed his features, and sat down, grim and sombre, at his -desk. An instant after Dantes entered. He was pale, but calm -and collected, and saluting his judge with easy politeness, -looked round for a seat, as if he had been in M. Morrel's -salon. It was then that he encountered for the first time -Villefort's look, that look peculiar to the magistrate, -who, while seeming to read the thoughts of others, betrays -nothing of his own. -"Who and what are you?" demanded Villefort, turning over a -pile of papers, containing information relative to the -prisoner, that a police agent had given to him on his entry, -and that, already, in an hour's time, had swelled to -voluminous proportions, thanks to the corrupt espionage of -which "the accused" is always made the victim. -"My name is Edmond Dantes," replied the young man calmly "I -am mate of the Pharaon, belonging to Messrs. Morrel Son." -"Your age?" continued Villefort. -"Nineteen," returned Dantes. -"What were you doing at the moment you were arrested?" -"I was at the festival of my marriage, monsieur," said the -young man, his voice slightly tremulous, so great was the -contrast between that happy moment and the painful ceremony -he was now undergoing so great was the contrast between the -sombre aspect of M. de Villefort and the radiant face of -Mercedes. -"You were at the festival of your marriage?" said the -deputy, shuddering in spite of himself. -"Yes, monsieur I am on the point of marrying a young girl I -have been attached to for three years." Villefort, impassive -as he was, was struck with this coincidence and the -tremulous voice of Dantes, surprised in the midst of his -happiness, struck a sympathetic chord in his own bosom he -also was on the point of being married, and he was summoned -from his own happiness to destroy that of another. "This -philosophic reflection," thought he, "will make a great -sensation at M. de SaintMeran's" and he arranged mentally, -while Dantes awaited further questions, the antithesis by -which orators often create a reputation for eloquence. When -this speech was arranged, Villefort turned to Dantes. -"Go on, sir," said he. -"What would you have me say?" -"Give all the information in your power." -"Tell me on which point you desire information, and I will -tell all I know only," added he, with a smile, "I warn you -I know very little." -"Have you served under the usurper?" -"I was about to be mustered into the Royal Marines when he -fell." -"It is reported your political opinions are extreme," said -Villefort, who had never heard anything of the kind, but was -not sorry to make this inquiry, as if it were an accusation. -"My political opinions" replied Dantes. "Alas, sir, I never -had any opinions. I am hardly nineteen I know nothing I -have no part to play. If I obtain the situation I desire, I -shall owe it to M. Morrel. Thus all my opinions I will -not say public, but private are confined to these three -sentiment, I love my father, I respect M. Morrel, and I -adore Mercedes. This, sir, is all I can tell you, and you -see how uninteresting it is." As Dantes spoke, Villefort -gazed at his ingenuous and open countenance, and recollected -the words of Renee, who, without knowing who the culprit -was, had besought his indulgence for him. With the deputy's -knowledge of crime and criminals, every word the young man -uttered convinced him more and more of his innocence. This -lad, for he was scarcely a man, simple, natural, eloquent -with that eloquence of the heart never found when sought -for full of affection for everybody, because he was happy, -and because happiness renders even the wicked good -extended his affection even to his judge, spite of -Villefort's severe look and stern accent. Dantes seemed full -of kindness. -"Pardieu," said Villefort, "he is a noble fellow. I hope I -shall gain Renee's favor easily by obeying the first command -she ever imposed on me. I shall have at least a pressure of -the hand in public, and a sweet kiss in private." Full of -this idea, Villefort's face became so joyous, that when he -turned to Dantes, the latter, who had watched the change on -his physiognomy, was smiling also. -"Sir," said Villefort, "have you any enemies, at least, that -you know." -"I have enemies?" replied Dantes "my position is not -sufficiently elevated for that. As for my disposition, that -is, perhaps, somewhat too hasty but I have striven to -repress it. I have had ten or twelve sailors under me, and -if you question them, they will tell you that they love and -respect me, not as a father, for I am too young, but as an -elder brother." -"But you may have excited jealousy. You are about to become -captain at nineteen an elevated post you are about to -marry a pretty girl, who loves you and these two pieces of -good fortune may have excited the envy of some one." -"You are right you know men better than I do, and what you -say may possibly be the case, I confess but if such persons -are among my acquaintances I prefer not to know it, because -then I should be forced to hate them." -"You are wrong you should always strive to see clearly -around you. You seem a worthy young man I will depart from -the strict line of my duty to aid you in discovering the -author of this accusation. Here is the paper do you know -the writing?" As he spoke, Villefort drew the letter from -his pocket, and presented it to Dantes. Dantes read it. A -cloud passed over his brow as he said, -"No, monsieur, I do not know the writing, and yet it is -tolerably plain. Whoever did it writes well. I am very -fortunate," added he, looking gratefully at Villefort, "to -be examined by such a man as you for this envious person is -a real enemy." And by the rapid glance that the young man's -eyes shot forth, Villefort saw how much energy lay hid -beneath this mildness. -"Now," said the deputy, "answer me frankly, not as a -prisoner to a judge, but as one man to another who takes an -interest in him, what truth is there in the accusation -contained in this anonymous letter?" And Villefort threw -disdainfully on his desk the letter Dantes had just given -back to him. -"None at all. I will tell you the real facts. I swear by my -honor as a sailor, by my love for Mercedes, by the life of -my father" -"Speak, monsieur," said Villefort. Then, internally, "If -Renee could see me, I hope she would be satisfied, and would -no longer call me a decapitator." -"Well, when we quitted Naples, Captain Leclere was attacked -with a brain fever. As we had no doctor on board, and he was -so anxious to arrive at Elba, that he would not touch at any -other port, his disorder rose to such a height, that at the -end of the third day, feeling he was dying, he called me to -him. "My dear Dantes,' said he, "swear to perform what I am -going to tell you, for it is a matter of the deepest -importance.' -""I swear, captain,' replied I. -""Well, as after my death the command devolves on you as -mate, assume the command, and bear up for the Island of -Elba, disembark at PortoFerrajo, ask for the grandmarshal, -give him this letter perhaps they will give you another -letter, and charge you with a commission. You will -accomplish what I was to have done, and derive all the honor -and profit from it.' -""I will do it, captain but perhaps I shall not be admitted -to the grand marshal's presence as easily as you expect?' -""Here is a ring that will obtain audience of him, and -remove every difficulty,' said the captain. At these words -he gave me a ring. It was time two hours after he was -delirious the next day he died." -"And what did you do then?" -"What I ought to have done, and what every one would have -done in my place. Everywhere the last requests of a dying -man are sacred but with a sailor the last requests of his -superior are commands. I sailed for the Island of Elba, -where I arrived the next day I ordered everybody to remain -on board, and went on shore alone. As I had expected, I -found some difficulty in obtaining access to the -grandmarshal but I sent the ring I had received from the -captain to him, and was instantly admitted. He questioned me -concerning Captain Leclere's death and, as the latter had -told me, gave me a letter to carry on to a person in Paris. -I undertook it because it was what my captain had bade me -do. I landed here, regulated the affairs of the vessel, and -hastened to visit my affianced bride, whom I found more -lovely than ever. Thanks to M. Morrel, all the forms were -got over in a word I was, as I told you, at my -marriagefeast and I should have been married in an hour, -and tomorrow I intended to start for Paris, had I not been -arrested on this charge which you as well as I now see to be -unjust." -"Ah," said Villefort, "this seems to me the truth. If you -have been culpable, it was imprudence, and this imprudence -was in obedience to the orders of your captain. Give up this -letter you have brought from Elba, and pass your word you -will appear should you be required, and go and rejoin your -friends. -"I am free, then, sir?" cried Dantes joyfully. -"Yes but first give me this letter." -"You have it already, for it was taken from me with some -others which I see in that packet." -"Stop a moment," said the deputy, as Dantes took his hat and -gloves. "To whom is it addressed?" -"To Monsieur Noirtier, Rue CoqHeron, Paris." Had a -thunderbolt fallen into the room, Villefort could not have -been more stupefied. He sank into his seat, and hastily -turning over the packet, drew forth the fatal letter, at -which he glanced with an expression of terror. -"M. Noirtier, Rue CoqHeron, No. ," murmured he, growing -still paler. -"Yes," said Dantes "do you know him?" -"No," replied Villefort "a faithful servant of the king -does not know conspirators." -"It is a conspiracy, then?" asked Dantes, who after -believing himself free, now began to feel a tenfold alarm. -"I have, however, already told you, sir, I was entirely -ignorant of the contents of the letter." -"Yes but you knew the name of the person to whom it was -addressed," said Villefort. -"I was forced to read the address to know to whom to give -it." -"Have you shown this letter to any one?" asked Villefort, -becoming still more pale. -"To no one, on my honor." -"Everybody is ignorant that you are the bearer of a letter -from the Island of Elba, and addressed to M. Noirtier?" -"Everybody, except the person who gave it to me." -"And that was too much, far too much," murmured Villefort. -Villefort's brow darkened more and more, his white lips and -clinched teeth filled Dantes with apprehension. After -reading the letter, Villefort covered his face with his -hands. -"Oh," said Dantes timidly, "what is the matter?" Villefort -made no answer, but raised his head at the expiration of a -few seconds, and again perused the letter. -"And you say that you are ignorant of the contents of this -letter?" -"I give you my word of honor, sir," said Dantes "but what -is the matter? You are ill shall I ring for assistance? -shall I call?" -"No," said Villefort, rising hastily "stay where you are. -It is for me to give orders here, and not you." -"Monsieur," replied Dantes proudly, "it was only to summon -assistance for you." -"I want none it was a temporary indisposition. Attend to -yourself answer me." Dantes waited, expecting a question, -but in vain. Villefort fell back on his chair, passed his -hand over his brow, moist with perspiration, and, for the -third time, read the letter. -"Oh, if he knows the contents of this" murmured he, "and -that Noirtier is the father of Villefort, I am lost" And he -fixed his eyes upon Edmond as if he would have penetrated -his thoughts. -"Oh, it is impossible to doubt it," cried he, suddenly. -"In heaven's name" cried the unhappy young man, "if you -doubt me, question me I will answer you." Villefort made a -violent effort, and in a tone he strove to render firm, -"Sir," said he, "I am no longer able, as I had hoped, to -restore you immediately to liberty before doing so, I must -consult the trial justice what my own feeling is you -already know." -"Oh, monsieur," cried Dantes, "you have been rather a friend -than a judge." -"Well, I must detain you some time longer, but I will strive -to make it as short as possible. The principal charge -against you is this letter, and you see" Villefort -approached the fire, cast it in, and waited until it was -entirely consumed. -"You see, I destroy it?" -"Oh," exclaimed Dantes, "you are goodness itself." -"Listen," continued Villefort "you can now have confidence -in me after what I have done." -"Oh, command, and I will obey." -"Listen this is not a command, but advice I give you." -"Speak, and I will follow your advice." -"I shall detain you until this evening in the Palais de -Justice. Should any one else interrogate you, say to him -what you have said to me, but do not breathe a word of this -letter." -"I promise." It was Villefort who seemed to entreat, and the -prisoner who reassured him. -"You see," continued he, glancing toward the grate, where -fragments of burnt paper fluttered in the flames, "the -letter is destroyed you and I alone know of its existence -should you, therefore, be questioned, deny all knowledge of -it deny it boldly, and you are saved." -"Be satisfied I will deny it." -"It was the only letter you had?" -"It was." -"Swear it." -"I swear it." -Villefort rang. A police agent entered. Villefort whispered -some words in his ear, to which the officer replied by a -motion of his head. -"Follow him," said Villefort to Dantes. Dantes saluted -Villefort and retired. Hardly had the door closed when -Villefort threw himself halffainting into a chair. -"Alas, alas," murmured he, "if the procureur himself had -been at Marseilles I should have been ruined. This accursed -letter would have destroyed all my hopes. Oh, my father, -must your past career always interfere with my successes?" -Suddenly a light passed over his face, a smile played round -his set mouth, and his haggard eyes were fixed in thought. -"This will do," said he, "and from this letter, which might -have ruined me, I will make my fortune. Now to the work I -have in hand." And after having assured himself that the -prisoner was gone, the deputy procureur hastened to the -house of his betrothed. -Chapter -The Chateau D'If. -The commissary of police, as he traversed the antechamber, -made a sign to two gendarmes, who placed themselves one on -Dantes' right and the other on his left. A door that -communicated with the Palais de Justice was opened, and they -went through a long range of gloomy corridors, whose -appearance might have made even the boldest shudder. The -Palais de Justice communicated with the prison, a sombre -edifice, that from its grated windows looks on the -clocktower of the Accoules. After numberless windings, -Dantes saw a door with an iron wicket. The commissary took -up an iron mallet and knocked thrice, every blow seeming to -Dantes as if struck on his heart. The door opened, the two -gendarmes gently pushed him forward, and the door closed -with a loud sound behind him. The air he inhaled was no -longer pure, but thick and mephitic, he was in prison. He -was conducted to a tolerably neat chamber, but grated and -barred, and its appearance, therefore, did not greatly alarm -him besides, the words of Villefort, who seemed to interest -himself so much, resounded still in his ears like a promise -of freedom. It was four o'clock when Dantes was placed in -this chamber. It was, as we have said, the st of March, and -the prisoner was soon buried in darkness. The obscurity -augmented the acuteness of his hearing at the slightest -sound he rose and hastened to the door, convinced they were -about to liberate him, but the sound died away, and Dantes -sank again into his seat. At last, about ten o'clock, and -just as Dantes began to despair, steps were heard in the -corridor, a key turned in the lock, the bolts creaked, the -massy oaken door flew open, and a flood of light from two -torches pervaded the apartment. By the torchlight Dantes saw -the glittering sabres and carbines of four gendarmes. He had -advanced at first, but stopped at the sight of this display -of force. -"Are you come to fetch me?" asked he. -"Yes," replied a gendarme. -"By the orders of the deputy procureur?" -"I believe so." The conviction that they came from M. de -Villefort relieved all Dantes' apprehensions he advanced -calmly, and placed himself in the centre of the escort. A -carriage waited at the door, the coachman was on the box, -and a police officer sat beside him. -"Is this carriage for me?" said Dantes. -"It is for you," replied a gendarme. -Dantes was about to speak but feeling himself urged -forward, and having neither the power nor the intention to -resist, he mounted the steps, and was in an instant seated -inside between two gendarmes the two others took their -places opposite, and the carriage rolled heavily over the -stones. -The prisoner glanced at the windows they were grated he -had changed his prison for another that was conveying him he -knew not whither. Through the grating, however, Dantes saw -they were passing through the Rue Caisserie, and by the Rue -SaintLaurent and the Rue Taramis, to the port. Soon he saw -the lights of La Consigne. -The carriage stopped, the officer descended, approached the -guardhouse, a dozen soldiers came out and formed themselves -in order Dantes saw the reflection of their muskets by the -light of the lamps on the quay. -"Can all this force be summoned on my account?" thought he. -The officer opened the door, which was locked, and, without -speaking a word, answered Dantes' question for he saw -between the ranks of the soldiers a passage formed from the -carriage to the port. The two gendarmes who were opposite to -him descended first, then he was ordered to alight and the -gendarmes on each side of him followed his example. They -advanced towards a boat, which a customhouse officer held -by a chain, near the quay. -The soldiers looked at Dantes with an air of stupid -curiosity. In an instant he was placed in the sternsheets -of the boat, between the gendarmes, while the officer -stationed himself at the bow a shove sent the boat adrift, -and four sturdy oarsmen impelled it rapidly towards the -Pilon. At a shout from the boat, the chain that closes the -mouth of the port was lowered and in a second they were, as -Dantes knew, in the Frioul and outside the inner harbor. -The prisoner's first feeling was of joy at again breathing -the pure air for air is freedom but he soon sighed, for -he passed before La Reserve, where he had that morning been -so happy, and now through the open windows came the laughter -and revelry of a ball. Dantes folded his hands, raised his -eyes to heaven, and prayed fervently. -The boat continued her voyage. They had passed the Tete de -Morte, were now off the Anse du Pharo, and about to double -the battery. This manoeuvre was incomprehensible to Dantes. -"Whither are you taking me?" asked he. -"You will soon know." -"But still" -"We are forbidden to give you any explanation." Dantes, -trained in discipline, knew that nothing would be more -absurd than to question subordinates, who were forbidden to -reply and so he remained silent. -The most vague and wild thoughts passed through his mind. -The boat they were in could not make a long voyage there -was no vessel at anchor outside the harbor he thought, -perhaps, they were going to leave him on some distant point. -He was not bound, nor had they made any attempt to handcuff -him this seemed a good augury. Besides, had not the deputy, -who had been so kind to him, told him that provided he did -not pronounce the dreaded name of Noirtier, he had nothing -to apprehend? Had not Villefort in his presence destroyed -the fatal letter, the only proof against him? -He waited silently, striving to pierce through the darkness. -They had left the Ile Ratonneau, where the lighthouse stood, -on the right, and were now opposite the Point des Catalans. -It seemed to the prisoner that he could distinguish a -feminine form on the beach, for it was there Mercedes dwelt. -How was it that a presentiment did not warn Mercedes that -her lover was within three hundred yards of her? -One light alone was visible and Dantes saw that it came -from Mercedes' chamber. Mercedes was the only one awake in -the whole settlement. A loud cry could be heard by her. But -pride restrained him and he did not utter it. What would his -guards think if they heard him shout like a madman? -He remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the light the boat -went on, but the prisoner thought only of Mercedes. An -intervening elevation of land hid the light. Dantes turned -and perceived that they had got out to sea. While he had -been absorbed in thought, they had shipped their oars and -hoisted sail the boat was now moving with the wind. -In spite of his repugnance to address the guards, Dantes -turned to the nearest gendarme, and taking his hand, -"Comrade," said he, "I adjure you, as a Christian and a -soldier, to tell me where we are going. I am Captain Dantes, -a loyal Frenchman, thought accused of treason tell me where -you are conducting me, and I promise you on my honor I will -submit to my fate." -The gendarme looked irresolutely at his companion, who -returned for answer a sign that said, "I see no great harm -in telling him now," and the gendarme replied, -"You are a native of Marseilles, and a sailor, and yet you -do not know where you are going?" -"On my honor, I have no idea." -"Have you no idea whatever?" -"None at all." -"That is impossible." -"I swear to you it is true. Tell me, I entreat." -"But my orders." -"Your orders do not forbid your telling me what I must know -in ten minutes, in half an hour, or an hour. You see I -cannot escape, even if I intended." -"Unless you are blind, or have never been outside the -harbor, you must know." -"I do not." -"Look round you then." Dantes rose and looked forward, when -he saw rise within a hundred yards of him the black and -frowning rock on which stands the Chateau d'If. This gloomy -fortress, which has for more than three hundred years -furnished food for so many wild legends, seemed to Dantes -like a scaffold to a malefactor. -"The Chateau d'If?" cried he, "what are we going there for?" -The gendarme smiled. -"I am not going there to be imprisoned," said Dantes "it is -only used for political prisoners. I have committed no -crime. Are there any magistrates or judges at the Chateau -d'If?" -"There are only," said the gendarme, "a governor, a -garrison, turnkeys, and good thick walls. Come, come, do not -look so astonished, or you will make me think you are -laughing at me in return for my good nature." Dantes pressed -the gendarme's hand as though he would crush it. -"You think, then," said he, "that I am taken to the Chateau -d'If to be imprisoned there?" -"It is probable but there is no occasion to squeeze so -hard." -"Without any inquiry, without any formality?" -"All the formalities have been gone through the inquiry is -already made." -"And so, in spite of M. de Villefort's promises?" -"I do not know what M. de Villefort promised you," said the -gendarme, "but I know we are taking you to the Chateau d'If. -But what are you doing? Help, comrades, help" -By a rapid movement, which the gendarme's practiced eye had -perceived, Dantes sprang forward to precipitate himself into -the sea but four vigorous arms seized him as his feet -quitted the bottom of the boat. He fell back cursing with -rage. -"Good" said the gendarme, placing his knee on his chest -"believe softspoken gentlemen again Harkye, my friend, I -have disobeyed my first order, but I will not disobey the -second and if you move, I will blow your brains out." And -he levelled his carbine at Dantes, who felt the muzzle -against his temple. -For a moment the idea of struggling crossed his mind, and of -so ending the unexpected evil that had overtaken him. But he -bethought him of M. de Villefort's promise and, besides, -death in a boat from the hand of a gendarme seemed too -terrible. He remained motionless, but gnashing his teeth and -wringing his hands with fury. -At this moment the boat came to a landing with a violent -shock. One of the sailors leaped on shore, a cord creaked as -it ran through a pulley, and Dantes guessed they were at the -end of the voyage, and that they were mooring the boat. -His guards, taking him by the arms and coatcollar, forced -him to rise, and dragged him towards the steps that lead to -the gate of the fortress, while the police officer carrying -a musket with fixed bayonet followed behind. -Dantes made no resistance he was like a man in a dream he -saw soldiers drawn up on the embankment he knew vaguely -that he was ascending a flight of steps he was conscious -that he passed through a door, and that the door closed -behind him but all this indistinctly as through a mist. He -did not even see the ocean, that terrible barrier against -freedom, which the prisoners look upon with utter despair. -They halted for a minute, during which he strove to collect -his thoughts. He looked around he was in a court surrounded -by high walls he heard the measured tread of sentinels, and -as they passed before the light he saw the barrels of their -muskets shine. -They waited upwards of ten minutes. Certain Dantes could not -escape, the gendarmes released him. They seemed awaiting -orders. The orders came. -"Where is the prisoner?" said a voice. -"Here," replied the gendarmes. -"Let him follow me I will take him to his cell." -"Go" said the gendarmes, thrusting Dantes forward. -The prisoner followed his guide, who led him into a room -almost under ground, whose bare and reeking walls seemed as -though impregnated with tears a lamp placed on a stool -illumined the apartment faintly, and showed Dantes the -features of his conductor, an underjailer, illclothed, and -of sullen appearance. -"Here is your chamber for tonight," said he. "It is late, -and the governor is asleep. Tomorrow, perhaps, he may -change you. In the meantime there is bread, water, and fresh -straw and that is all a prisoner can wish for. Goodnight." -And before Dantes could open his mouth before he had -noticed where the jailer placed his bread or the water -before he had glanced towards the corner where the straw -was, the jailer disappeared, taking with him the lamp and -closing the door, leaving stamped upon the prisoner's mind -the dim reflection of the dripping walls of his dungeon. -Dantes was alone in darkness and in silence cold as the -shadows that he felt breathe on his burning forehead. With -the first dawn of day the jailer returned, with orders to -leave Dantes where he was. He found the prisoner in the same -position, as if fixed there, his eyes swollen with weeping. -He had passed the night standing, and without sleep. The -jailer advanced Dantes appeared not to perceive him. He -touched him on the shoulder. Edmond started. -"Have you not slept?" said the jailer. -"I do not know," replied Dantes. The jailer stared. -"Are you hungry?" continued he. -"I do not know." -"Do you wish for anything?" -"I wish to see the governor." The jailer shrugged his -shoulders and left the chamber. -Dantes followed him with his eyes, and stretched forth his -hands towards the open door but the door closed. All his -emotion then burst forth he cast himself on the ground, -weeping bitterly, and asking himself what crime he had -committed that he was thus punished. -The day passed thus he scarcely tasted food, but walked -round and round the cell like a wild beast in its cage. One -thought in particular tormented him namely, that during his -journey hither he had sat so still, whereas he might, a -dozen times, have plunged into the sea, and, thanks to his -powers of swimming, for which he was famous, have gained the -shore, concealed himself until the arrival of a Genoese or -Spanish vessel, escaped to Spain or Italy, where Mercedes -and his father could have joined him. He had no fears as to -how he should live good seamen are welcome everywhere. He -spoke Italian like a Tuscan, and Spanish like a Castilian -he would have been free, and happy with Mercedes and his -father, whereas he was now confined in the Chateau d'If, -that impregnable fortress, ignorant of the future destiny of -his father and Mercedes and all this because he had trusted -to Villefort's promise. The thought was maddening, and -Dantes threw himself furiously down on his straw. The next -morning at the same hour, the jailer came again. -"Well," said the jailer, "are you more reasonable today?" -Dantes made no reply. -"Come, cheer up is there anything that I can do for you?" -"I wish to see the governor." -"I have already told you it was impossible." -"Why so?" -"Because it is against prison rules, and prisoners must not -even ask for it." -"What is allowed, then?" -"Better fare, if you pay for it, books, and leave to walk -about." -"I do not want books, I am satisfied with my food, and do -not care to walk about but I wish to see the governor." -"If you worry me by repeating the same thing, I will not -bring you any more to eat." -"Well, then," said Edmond, "if you do not, I shall die of -hunger that is all." -The jailer saw by his tone he would be happy to die and as -every prisoner is worth ten sous a day to his jailer, he -replied in a more subdued tone. -"What you ask is impossible but if you are very well -behaved you will be allowed to walk about, and some day you -will meet the governor, and if he chooses to reply, that is -his affair." -"But," asked Dantes, "how long shall I have to wait?" -"Ah, a month six months a year." -"It is too long a time. I wish to see him at once." -"Ah," said the jailer, "do not always brood over what is -impossible, or you will be mad in a fortnight." -"You think so?" -"Yes we have an instance here it was by always offering a -million of francs to the governor for his liberty that an -abbe became mad, who was in this chamber before you." -"How long has he left it?" -"Two years." -"Was he liberated, then?" -"No he was put in a dungeon." -"Listen" said Dantes. "I am not an abbe, I am not mad -perhaps I shall be, but at present, unfortunately, I am not. -I will make you another offer." -"What is that?" -"I do not offer you a million, because I have it not but I -will give you a hundred crowns if, the first time you go to -Marseilles, you will seek out a young girl named Mercedes, -at the Catalans, and give her two lines from me." -"If I took them, and were detected, I should lose my place, -which is worth two thousand francs a year so that I should -be a great fool to run such a risk for three hundred." -"Well," said Dantes, "mark this if you refuse at least to -tell Mercedes I am here, I will some day hide myself behind -the door, and when you enter I will dash out your brains -with this stool." -"Threats" cried the jailer, retreating and putting himself -on the defensive "you are certainly going mad. The abbe -began like you, and in three days you will be like him, mad -enough to tie up but, fortunately, there are dungeons -here." Dantes whirled the stool round his head. -"All right, all right," said the jailer "all right, since -you will have it so. I will send word to the governor." -"Very well," returned Dantes, dropping the stool and sitting -on it as if he were in reality mad. The jailer went out, and -returned in an instant with a corporal and four soldiers. -"By the governor's orders," said he, "conduct the prisoner -to the tier beneath." -"To the dungeon, then," said the corporal. -"Yes we must put the madman with the madmen." The soldiers -seized Dantes, who followed passively. -He descended fifteen steps, and the door of a dungeon was -opened, and he was thrust in. The door closed, and Dantes -advanced with outstretched hands until he touched the wall -he then sat down in the corner until his eyes became -accustomed to the darkness. The jailer was right Dantes -wanted but little of being utterly mad. -Chapter -The Evening of the Betrothal. -Villefort had, as we have said, hastened back to Madame de -SaintMeran's in the Place du Grand Cours, and on entering -the house found that the guests whom he had left at table -were taking coffee in the salon. Renee was, with all the -rest of the company, anxiously awaiting him, and his -entrance was followed by a general exclamation. -"Well, Decapitator, Guardian of the State, Royalist, Brutus, -what is the matter?" said one. "Speak out." -"Are we threatened with a fresh Reign of Terror?" asked -another. -"Has the Corsican ogre broken loose?" cried a third. -"Marquise," said Villefort, approaching his future -motherinlaw, "I request your pardon for thus leaving you. -Will the marquis honor me by a few moments' private -conversation?" -"Ah, it is really a serious matter, then?" asked the -marquis, remarking the cloud on Villefort's brow. -"So serious that I must take leave of you for a few days -so," added he, turning to Renee, "judge for yourself if it -be not important." -"You are going to leave us?" cried Renee, unable to hide her -emotion at this unexpected announcement. -"Alas," returned Villefort, "I must" -"Where, then, are you going?" asked the marquise. -"That, madame, is an official secret but if you have any -commissions for Paris, a friend of mine is going there -tonight, and will with pleasure undertake them." The guests -looked at each other. -"You wish to speak to me alone?" said the marquis. -"Yes, let us go to the library, please." The marquis took -his arm, and they left the salon. -"Well," asked he, as soon as they were by themselves, "tell -me what it is?" -"An affair of the greatest importance, that demands my -immediate presence in Paris. Now, excuse the indiscretion, -marquis, but have you any landed property?" -"All my fortune is in the funds seven or eight hundred -thousand francs." -"Then sell out sell out, marquis, or you will lose it -all." -"But how can I sell out here?" -"You have a broker, have you not?" -"Yes." -"Then give me a letter to him, and tell him to sell out -without an instant's delay, perhaps even now I shall arrive -too late." -"The deuce you say" replied the marquis, "let us lose no -time, then" -And, sitting down, he wrote a letter to his broker, ordering -him to sell out at the market price. -"Now, then," said Villefort, placing the letter in his -pocketbook, "I must have another" -"To whom?" -"To the king." -"To the king?" -"Yes." -"I dare not write to his majesty." -"I do not ask you to write to his majesty, but ask M. de -Salvieux to do so. I want a letter that will enable me to -reach the king's presence without all the formalities of -demanding an audience that would occasion a loss of -precious time." -"But address yourself to the keeper of the seals he has the -right of entry at the Tuileries, and can procure you -audience at any hour of the day or night." -"Doubtless but there is no occasion to divide the honors of -my discovery with him. The keeper would leave me in the -background, and take all the glory to himself. I tell you, -marquis, my fortune is made if I only reach the Tuileries -the first, for the king will not forget the service I do -him." -"In that case go and get ready. I will call Salvieux and -make him write the letter." -"Be as quick as possible, I must be on the road in a quarter -of an hour." -"Tell your coachman to stop at the door." -"You will present my excuses to the marquise and -Mademoiselle Renee, whom I leave on such a day with great -regret." -"You will find them both here, and can make your farewells -in person." -"A thousand thanks and now for the letter." -The marquis rang, a servant entered. -"Say to the Comte de Salvieux that I would like to see him." -"Now, then, go," said the marquis. -"I shall be gone only a few moments." -Villefort hastily quitted the apartment, but reflecting that -the sight of the deputy procureur running through the -streets would be enough to throw the whole city into -confusion, he resumed his ordinary pace. At his door he -perceived a figure in the shadow that seemed to wait for -him. It was Mercedes, who, hearing no news of her lover, had -come unobserved to inquire after him. -As Villefort drew near, she advanced and stood before him. -Dantes had spoken of Mercedes, and Villefort instantly -recognized her. Her beauty and high bearing surprised him, -and when she inquired what had become of her lover, it -seemed to him that she was the judge, and he the accused. -"The young man you speak of," said Villefort abruptly, "is a -great criminal. and I can do nothing for him, mademoiselle." -Mercedes burst into tears, and, as Villefort strove to pass -her, again addressed him. -"But, at least, tell me where he is, that I may know whether -he is alive or dead," said she. -"I do not know he is no longer in my hands," replied -Villefort. -And desirous of putting an end to the interview, he pushed -by her, and closed the door, as if to exclude the pain he -felt. But remorse is not thus banished like Virgil's -wounded hero, he carried the arrow in his wound, and, -arrived at the salon, Villefort uttered a sigh that was -almost a sob, and sank into a chair. -Then the first pangs of an unending torture seized upon his -heart. The man he sacrificed to his ambition, that innocent -victim immolated on the altar of his father's faults, -appeared to him pale and threatening, leading his affianced -bride by the hand, and bringing with him remorse, not such -as the ancients figured, furious and terrible, but that slow -and consuming agony whose pangs are intensified from hour to -hour up to the very moment of death. Then he had a moment's -hesitation. He had frequently called for capital punishment -on criminals, and owing to his irresistible eloquence they -had been condemned, and yet the slightest shadow of remorse -had never clouded Villefort's brow, because they were -guilty at least, he believed so but here was an innocent -man whose happiness he had destroyed in this case he was -not the judge, but the executioner. -As he thus reflected, he felt the sensation we have -described, and which had hitherto been unknown to him, arise -in his bosom, and fill him with vague apprehensions. It is -thus that a wounded man trembles instinctively at the -approach of the finger to his wound until it be healed, but -Villefort's was one of those that never close, or if they -do, only close to reopen more agonizing than ever. If at -this moment the sweet voice of Renee had sounded in his ears -pleading for mercy, or the fair Mercedes had entered and -said, "In the name of God, I conjure you to restore me my -affianced husband," his cold and trembling hands would have -signed his release but no voice broke the stillness of the -chamber, and the door was opened only by Villefort's valet, -who came to tell him that the travelling carriage was in -readiness. -Villefort rose, or rather sprang, from his chair, hastily -opened one of the drawers of his desk, emptied all the gold -it contained into his pocket, stood motionless an instant, -his hand pressed to his head, muttered a few inarticulate -sounds, and then, perceiving that his servant had placed his -cloak on his shoulders, he sprang into the carriage, -ordering the postilions to drive to M. de SaintMeran's. The -hapless Dantes was doomed. -As the marquis had promised, Villefort found the marquise -and Renee in waiting. He started when he saw Renee, for he -fancied she was again about to plead for Dantes. Alas, her -emotions were wholly personal she was thinking only of -Villefort's departure. -She loved Villefort, and he left her at the moment he was -about to become her husband. Villefort knew not when he -should return, and Renee, far from pleading for Dantes, -hated the man whose crime separated her from her lover. -Meanwhile what of Mercedes? She had met Fernand at the -corner of the Rue de la Loge she had returned to the -Catalans, and had despairingly cast herself on her couch. -Fernand, kneeling by her side, took her hand, and covered it -with kisses that Mercedes did not even feel. She passed the -night thus. The lamp went out for want of oil, but she paid -no heed to the darkness, and dawn came, but she knew not -that it was day. Grief had made her blind to all but one -object that was Edmond. -"Ah, you are there," said she, at length, turning towards -Fernand. -"I have not quitted you since yesterday," returned Fernand -sorrowfully. -M. Morrel had not readily given up the fight. He had learned -that Dantes had been taken to prison, and he had gone to all -his friends, and the influential persons of the city but -the report was already in circulation that Dantes was -arrested as a Bonapartist agent and as the most sanguine -looked upon any attempt of Napoleon to remount the throne as -impossible, he met with nothing but refusal, and had -returned home in despair, declaring that the matter was -serious and that nothing more could be done. -Caderousse was equally restless and uneasy, but instead of -seeking, like M. Morrel, to aid Dantes, he had shut himself -up with two bottles of black currant brandy, in the hope of -drowning reflection. But he did not succeed, and became too -intoxicated to fetch any more drink, and yet not so -intoxicated as to forget what had happened. With his elbows -on the table he sat between the two empty bottles, while -spectres danced in the light of the unsnuffed candle -spectres such as Hoffmann strews over his punchdrenched -pages, like black, fantastic dust. -Danglars alone was content and joyous he had got rid of -an enemy and made his own situation on the Pharaon secure. -Danglars was one of those men born with a pen behind the -ear, and an inkstand in place of a heart. Everything with -him was multiplication or subtraction. The life of a man was -to him of far less value than a numeral, especially when, by -taking it away, he could increase the sum total of his own -desires. He went to bed at his usual hour, and slept in -peace. -Villefort, after having received M. de Salvieux' letter, -embraced Renee, kissed the marquise's hand, and shaken that -of the marquis, started for Paris along the Aix road. -Old Dantes was dying with anxiety to know what had become of -Edmond. But we know very well what had become of Edmond. -Chapter -The King's Closet at the Tuileries. -We will leave Villefort on the road to Paris, travelling -thanks to trebled fees with all speed, and passing -through two or three apartments, enter at the Tuileries the -little room with the arched window, so well known as having -been the favorite closet of Napoleon and Louis XVIII., and -now of Louis Philippe. -There, seated before a walnut table he had brought with him -from Hartwell, and to which, from one of those fancies not -uncommon to great people, he was particularly attached, the -king, Louis XVIII., was carelessly listening to a man of -fifty or fiftytwo years of age, with gray hair, -aristocratic bearing, and exceedingly gentlemanly attire, -and meanwhile making a marginal note in a volume of -Gryphius's rather inaccurate, but much soughtafter, edition -of Horace a work which was much indebted to the sagacious -observations of the philosophical monarch. -"You say, sir" said the king. -"That I am exceedingly disquieted, sire." -"Really, have you had a vision of the seven fat kine and the -seven lean kine?" -"No, sire, for that would only betoken for us seven years of -plenty and seven years of scarcity and with a king as full -of foresight as your majesty, scarcity is not a thing to be -feared." -"Then of what other scourge are you afraid, my dear Blacas?" -"Sire, I have every reason to believe that a storm is -brewing in the south." -"Well, my dear duke," replied Louis XVIII., "I think you are -wrongly informed, and know positively that, on the contrary, -it is very fine weather in that direction." Man of ability -as he was, Louis XVIII. liked a pleasant jest. -"Sire," continued M. de Blacas, "if it only be to reassure a -faithful servant, will your majesty send into Languedoc, -Provence, and Dauphine, trusty men, who will bring you back -a faithful report as to the feeling in these three -provinces?" -"Caninus surdis," replied the king, continuing the -annotations in his Horace. -"Sire," replied the courtier, laughing, in order that he -might seem to comprehend the quotation, "your majesty may be -perfectly right in relying on the good feeling of France, -but I fear I am not altogether wrong in dreading some -desperate attempt." -"By whom?" -"By Bonaparte, or, at least, by his adherents." -"My dear Blacas," said the king, "you with your alarms -prevent me from working." -"And you, sire, prevent me from sleeping with your -security." -"Wait, my dear sir, wait a moment for I have such a -delightful note on the Pastor quum traheret wait, and I -will listen to you afterwards." -There was a brief pause, during which Louis XVIII. wrote, in -a hand as small as possible, another note on the margin of -his Horace, and then looking at the duke with the air of a -man who thinks he has an idea of his own, while he is only -commenting upon the idea of another, said, -"Go on, my dear duke, go on I listen." -"Sire," said Blacas, who had for a moment the hope of -sacrificing Villefort to his own profit, "I am compelled to -tell you that these are not mere rumors destitute of -foundation which thus disquiet me but a seriousminded man, -deserving all my confidence, and charged by me to watch over -the south" the duke hesitated as he pronounced these -words, "has arrived by post to tell me that a great peril -threatens the king, and so I hastened to you, sire." -"Mala ducis avi domum," continued Louis XVIII., still -annotating. -"Does your majesty wish me to drop the subject?" -"By no means, my dear duke but just stretch out your hand." -"Which?" -"Whichever you please there to the left." -"Here, sire?" -"I tell you to the left, and you are looking to the right I -mean on my left yes, there. You will find yesterday's -report of the minister of police. But here is M. Dandre -himself" and M. Dandre, announced by the -chamberlaininwaiting, entered. -"Come in," said Louis XVIII., with repressed smile, "come -in, Baron, and tell the duke all you know the latest news -of M. de Bonaparte do not conceal anything, however -serious, let us see, the Island of Elba is a volcano, and -we may expect to have issuing thence flaming and bristling -war bella, horrida bella." M. Dandre leaned very -respectfully on the back of a chair with his two hands, and -said, -"Has your majesty perused yesterday's report?" -"Yes, yes but tell the duke himself, who cannot find -anything, what the report contains give him the -particulars of what the usurper is doing in his islet." -"Monsieur," said the baron to the duke, "all the servants of -his majesty must approve of the latest intelligence which we -have from the Island of Elba. Bonaparte" M. Dandre looked -at Louis XVIII., who, employed in writing a note, did not -even raise his head. "Bonaparte," continued the baron, "is -mortally wearied, and passes whole days in watching his -miners at work at PortoLongone." -"And scratches himself for amusement," added the king. -"Scratches himself?" inquired the duke, "what does your -majesty mean?" -"Yes, indeed, my dear duke. Did you forget that this great -man, this hero, this demigod, is attacked with a malady of -the skin which worries him to death, prurigo?" -"And, moreover, my dear duke," continued the minister of -police, "we are almost assured that, in a very short time, -the usurper will be insane." -"Insane?" -"Raving mad his head becomes weaker. Sometimes he weeps -bitterly, sometimes laughs boisterously, at other time he -passes hours on the seashore, flinging stones in the water -and when the flint makes "duckanddrake' five or six times, -he appears as delighted as if he had gained another Marengo -or Austerlitz. Now, you must agree that these are -indubitable symptoms of insanity." -"Or of wisdom, my dear baron or of wisdom," said Louis -XVIII., laughing "the greatest captains of antiquity amused -themselves by casting pebbles into the ocean see -Plutarch's life of Scipio Africanus." -M. de Blacas pondered deeply between the confident monarch -and the truthful minister. Villefort, who did not choose to -reveal the whole secret, lest another should reap all the -benefit of the disclosure, had yet communicated enough to -cause him the greatest uneasiness. -"Well, well, Dandre," said Louis XVIII., "Blacas is not yet -convinced let us proceed, therefore, to the usurper's -conversion." The minister of police bowed. -"The usurper's conversion" murmured the duke, looking at -the king and Dandre, who spoke alternately, like Virgil's -shepherds. "The usurper converted" -"Decidedly, my dear duke." -"In what way converted?" -"To good principles. Tell him all about it, baron." -"Why, this is the way of it," said the minister, with the -gravest air in the world "Napoleon lately had a review, and -as two or three of his old veterans expressed a desire to -return to France, he gave them their dismissal, and exhorted -them to "serve the good king.' These were his own words, of -that I am certain." -"Well, Blacas, what think you of this?" inquired the king -triumphantly, and pausing for a moment from the voluminous -scholiast before him. -"I say, sire, that the minister of police is greatly -deceived or I am and as it is impossible it can be the -minister of police as he has the guardianship of the safety -and honor of your majesty, it is probable that I am in -error. However, sire, if I might advise, your majesty will -interrogate the person of whom I spoke to you, and I will -urge your majesty to do him this honor." -"Most willingly, duke under your auspices I will receive -any person you please, but you must not expect me to be too -confiding. Baron, have you any report more recent than this -dated the th February. this is the th of March?" -"No, sire, but I am hourly expecting one it may have -arrived since I left my office." -"Go thither, and if there be none well, well," continued -Louis XVIII., "make one that is the usual way, is it not?" -and the king laughed facetiously. -"Oh, sire," replied the minister, "we have no occasion to -invent any every day our desks are loaded with most -circumstantial denunciations, coming from hosts of people -who hope for some return for services which they seek to -render, but cannot they trust to fortune, and rely upon -some unexpected event in some way to justify their -predictions." -"Well, sir, go" said Louis XVIII., "and remember that I am -waiting for you." -"I will but go and return, sire I shall be back in ten -minutes." -"And I, sire," said M. de Blacas, "will go and find my -messenger." -"Wait, sir, wait," said Louis XVIII. "Really, M. de Blacas, -I must change your armorial bearings I will give you an -eagle with outstretched wings, holding in its claws a prey -which tries in vain to escape, and bearing this device -Tenax." -"Sire, I listen," said De Blacas, biting his nails with -impatience. -"I wish to consult you on this passage, "Molli fugiens -anhelitu,' you know it refers to a stag flying from a wolf. -Are you not a sportsman and a great wolfhunter? Well, then, -what do you think of the molli anhelitu?" -"Admirable, sire but my messenger is like the stag you -refer to, for he has posted two hundred and twenty leagues -in scarcely three days." -"Which is undergoing great fatigue and anxiety, my dear -duke, when we have a telegraph which transmits messages in -three or four hours, and that without getting in the least -out of breath." -"Ah, sire, you recompense but badly this poor young man, who -has come so far, and with so much ardor, to give your -majesty useful information. If only for the sake of M. de -Salvieux, who recommends him to me, I entreat your majesty -to receive him graciously." -"M. de Salvieux, my brother's chamberlain?" -"Yes, sire." -"He is at Marseilles." -"And writes me thence." -"Does he speak to you of this conspiracy?" -"No but strongly recommends M. de Villefort, and begs me to -present him to your majesty." -"M. de Villefort" cried the king, "is the messenger's name -M. de Villefort?" -"Yes, sire." -"And he comes from Marseilles?" -"In person." -"Why did you not mention his name at once?" replied the -king, betraying some uneasiness. -"Sire, I thought his name was unknown to your majesty." -"No, no, Blacas he is a man of strong and elevated -understanding, ambitious, too, and, pardieu, you know his -father's name" -"His father?" -"Yes, Noirtier." -"Noirtier the Girondin? Noirtier the senator?" -"He himself." -"And your majesty has employed the son of such a man?" -"Blacas, my friend, you have but limited comprehension. I -told you Villefort was ambitious, and to attain this -ambition Villefort would sacrifice everything, even his -father." -"Then, sire, may I present him?" -"This instant, duke Where is he?" -"Waiting below, in my carriage." -"Seek him at once." -"I hasten to do so." The duke left the royal presence with -the speed of a young man his really sincere royalism made -him youthful again. Louis XVIII. remained alone, and turning -his eyes on his halfopened Horace, muttered, -"Justum et tenacem propositi virum." -M. de Blacas returned as speedily as he had departed, but in -the antechamber he was forced to appeal to the king's -authority. Villefort's dusty garb, his costume, which was -not of courtly cut, excited the susceptibility of M. de -Breze, who was all astonishment at finding that this young -man had the audacity to enter before the king in such -attire. The duke, however, overcame all difficulties with a -word his majesty's order and, in spite of the -protestations which the master of ceremonies made for the -honor of his office and principles, Villefort was -introduced. -The king was seated in the same place where the duke had -left him. On opening the door, Villefort found himself -facing him, and the young magistrate's first impulse was to -pause. -"Come in, M. de Villefort," said the king, "come in." -Villefort bowed, and advancing a few steps, waited until the -king should interrogate him. -"M. de Villefort," said Louis XVIII., "the Duc de Blacas -assures me you have some interesting information to -communicate." -"Sire, the duke is right, and I believe your majesty will -think it equally important." -"In the first place, and before everything else, sir, is the -news as bad in your opinion as I am asked to believe?" -"Sire, I believe it to be most urgent, but I hope, by the -speed I have used, that it is not irreparable." -"Speak as fully as you please, sir," said the king, who -began to give way to the emotion which had showed itself in -Blacas's face and affected Villefort's voice. "Speak, sir, -and pray begin at the beginning I like order in -everything." -"Sire," said Villefort, "I will render a faithful report to -your majesty, but I must entreat your forgiveness if my -anxiety leads to some obscurity in my language." A glance at -the king after this discreet and subtle exordium, assured -Villefort of the benignity of his august auditor, and he -went on -"Sire, I have come as rapidly to Paris as possible, to -inform your majesty that I have discovered, in the exercise -of my duties, not a commonplace and insignificant plot, such -as is every day got up in the lower ranks of the people and -in the army, but an actual conspiracy a storm which -menaces no less than your majesty's throne. Sire, the -usurper is arming three ships, he meditates some project, -which, however mad, is yet, perhaps, terrible. At this -moment he will have left Elba, to go whither I know not, but -assuredly to attempt a landing either at Naples, or on the -coast of Tuscany, or perhaps on the shores of France. Your -majesty is well aware that the sovereign of the Island of -Elba has maintained his relations with Italy and France?" -"I am, sir," said the king, much agitated "and recently we -have had information that the Bonapartist clubs have had -meetings in the Rue SaintJacques. But proceed, I beg of -you. How did you obtain these details?" -"Sire, they are the results of an examination which I have -made of a man of Marseilles, whom I have watched for some -time, and arrested on the day of my departure. This person, -a sailor, of turbulent character, and whom I suspected of -Bonapartism, has been secretly to the Island of Elba. There -he saw the grandmarshal, who charged him with an oral -message to a Bonapartist in Paris, whose name I could not -extract from him but this mission was to prepare men's -minds for a return it is the man who says this, sire a -return which will soon occur." -"And where is this man?" -"In prison, sire." -"And the matter seems serious to you?" -"So serious, sire, that when the circumstance surprised me -in the midst of a family festival, on the very day of my -betrothal, I left my bride and friends, postponing -everything, that I might hasten to lay at your majesty's -feet the fears which impressed me, and the assurance of my -devotion." -"True," said Louis XVIII., "was there not a marriage -engagement between you and Mademoiselle de SaintMeran?" -"Daughter of one of your majesty's most faithful servants." -"Yes, yes but let us talk of this plot, M. de Villefort." -"Sire, I fear it is more than a plot I fear it is a -conspiracy." -"A conspiracy in these times," said Louis XVIII., smiling, -"is a thing very easy to meditate, but more difficult to -conduct to an end, inasmuch as, reestablished so recently -on the throne of our ancestors, we have our eyes open at -once upon the past, the present, and the future. For the -last ten months my ministers have redoubled their vigilance, -in order to watch the shore of the Mediterranean. If -Bonaparte landed at Naples, the whole coalition would be on -foot before he could even reach Piomoino if he land in -Tuscany, he will be in an unfriendly territory if he land -in France, it must be with a handful of men, and the result -of that is easily foretold, execrated as he is by the -population. Take courage, sir but at the same time rely on -our royal gratitude." -"Ah, here is M. Dandre" cried de Blacas. At this instant -the minister of police appeared at the door, pale, -trembling, and as if ready to faint. Villefort was about to -retire, but M. de Blacas, taking his hand, restrained him. -Chapter -The Corsican Ogre. -At the sight of this agitation Louis XVIII. pushed from him -violently the table at which he was sitting. -"What ails you, baron?" he exclaimed. "You appear quite -aghast. Has your uneasiness anything to do with what M. de -Blacas has told me, and M. de Villefort has just confirmed?" -M. de Blacas moved suddenly towards the baron, but the -fright of the courtier pleaded for the forbearance of the -statesman and besides, as matters were, it was much more to -his advantage that the prefect of police should triumph over -him than that he should humiliate the prefect. -"Sire" stammered the baron. -"Well, what is it?" asked Louis XVIII. The minister of -police, giving way to an impulse of despair, was about to -throw himself at the feet of Louis XVIII., who retreated a -step and frowned. -"Will you speak?" he said. -"Oh, sire, what a dreadful misfortune I am, indeed, to be -pitied. I can never forgive myself" -"Monsieur," said Louis XVIII., "I command you to speak." -"Well, sire, the usurper left Elba on the th February, and -landed on the st of March." -"And where? In Italy?" asked the king eagerly. -"In France, sire, at a small port, near Antibes, in the -Gulf of Juan." -"The usurper landed in France, near Antibes, in the Gulf of -Juan, two hundred and fifty leagues from Paris, on the st -of March, and you only acquired this information today, the -th of March Well, sir, what you tell me is impossible. You -must have received a false report, or you have gone mad." -"Alas, sire, it is but too true" Louis made a gesture of -indescribable anger and alarm, and then drew himself up as -if this sudden blow had struck him at the same moment in -heart and countenance. -"In France" he cried, "the usurper in France Then they did -not watch over this man. Who knows? they were, perhaps, in -league with him." -"Oh, sire," exclaimed the Duc de Blacas, "M. Dandre is not a -man to be accused of treason Sire, we have all been blind, -and the minister of police has shared the general blindness, -that is all." -"But" said Villefort, and then suddenly checking himself, -he was silent then he continued, "Your pardon, sire," he -said, bowing, "my zeal carried me away. Will your majesty -deign to excuse me?" -"Speak, sir, speak boldly," replied Louis. "You alone -forewarned us of the evil now try and aid us with the -remedy." -"Sire," said Villefort, "the usurper is detested in the -south and it seems to me that if he ventured into the -south, it would be easy to raise Languedoc and Provence -against him." -"Yes, assuredly," replied the minister "but he is advancing -by Gap and Sisteron." -"Advancing he is advancing" said Louis XVIII. "Is he -then advancing on Paris?" The minister of police maintained -a silence which was equivalent to a complete avowal. -"And Dauphine, sir?" inquired the king, of Villefort. "Do -you think it possible to rouse that as well as Provence?" -"Sire, I am sorry to tell your majesty a cruel fact but the -feeling in Dauphine is quite the reverse of that in Provence -or Languedoc. The mountaineers are Bonapartists, sire." -"Then," murmured Louis, "he was well informed. And how many -men had he with him?" -"I do not know, sire," answered the minister of police. -"What, you do not know Have you neglected to obtain -information on that point? Of course it is of no -consequence," he added, with a withering smile. -"Sire, it was impossible to learn the despatch simply -stated the fact of the landing and the route taken by the -usurper." -"And how did this despatch reach you?" inquired the king. -The minister bowed his head, and while a deep color -overspread his cheeks, he stammered out, -"By the telegraph, sire." Louis XVIII. advanced a step, -and folded his arms over his chest as Napoleon would have -done. -"So then," he exclaimed, turning pale with anger, "seven -conjoined and allied armies overthrew that man. A miracle of -heaven replaced me on the throne of my fathers after -fiveandtwenty years of exile. I have, during those -fiveandtwenty years, spared no pains to understand the -people of France and the interests which were confided to -me and now, when I see the fruition of my wishes almost -within reach, the power I hold in my hands bursts, and -shatters me to atoms" -"Sire, it is fatality" murmured the minister, feeling that -the pressure of circumstances, however light a thing to -destiny, was too much for any human strength to endure. -"What our enemies say of us is then true. We have learnt -nothing, forgotten nothing If I were betrayed as he was, I -would console myself but to be in the midst of persons -elevated by myself to places of honor, who ought to watch -over me more carefully than over themselves, for my -fortune is theirs before me they were nothing after me -they will be nothing, and perish miserably from incapacity -ineptitude Oh, yes, sir, you are right it is -fatality" -The minister quailed before this outburst of sarcasm. M. de -Blacas wiped the moisture from his brow. Villefort smiled -within himself, for he felt his increased importance. -"To fall," continued King Louis, who at the first glance had -sounded the abyss on which the monarchy hung suspended, -"to fall, and learn of that fall by telegraph Oh, I would -rather mount the scaffold of my brother, Louis XVI., than -thus descend the staircase at the Tuileries driven away by -ridicule. Ridicule, sir why, you know not its power in -France, and yet you ought to know it" -"Sire, sire," murmured the minister, "for pity's" -"Approach, M. de Villefort," resumed the king, addressing -the young man, who, motionless and breathless, was listening -to a conversation on which depended the destiny of a -kingdom. "Approach, and tell monsieur that it is possible to -know beforehand all that he has not known." -"Sire, it was really impossible to learn secrets which that -man concealed from all the world." -"Really impossible Yes that is a great word, sir. -Unfortunately, there are great words, as there are great -men I have measured them. Really impossible for a minister -who has an office, agents, spies, and fifteen hundred -thousand francs for secret service money, to know what is -going on at sixty leagues from the coast of France Well, -then, see, here is a gentleman who had none of these -resources at his disposal a gentleman, only a simple -magistrate, who learned more than you with all your police, -and who would have saved my crown, if, like you, he had the -power of directing a telegraph." The look of the minister of -police was turned with concentrated spite on Villefort, who -bent his head in modest triumph. -"I do not mean that for you, Blacas," continued Louis -XVIII. "for if you have discovered nothing, at least you -have had the good sense to persevere in your suspicions. Any -other than yourself would have considered the disclosure of -M. de Villefort insignificant, or else dictated by venal -ambition," These words were an allusion to the sentiments -which the minister of police had uttered with so much -confidence an hour before. -Villefort understood the king's intent. Any other person -would, perhaps, have been overcome by such an intoxicating -draught of praise but he feared to make for himself a -mortal enemy of the police minister, although he saw that -Dandre was irrevocably lost. In fact, the minister, who, in -the plenitude of his power, had been unable to unearth -Napoleon's secret, might in despair at his own downfall -interrogate Dantes and so lay bare the motives of -Villefort's plot. Realizing this, Villefort came to the -rescue of the crestfallen minister, instead of aiding to -crush him. -"Sire," said Villefort, "the suddenness of this event must -prove to your majesty that the issue is in the hands of -Providence what your majesty is pleased to attribute to me -as profound perspicacity is simply owing to chance, and I -have profited by that chance, like a good and devoted -servant that's all. Do not attribute to me more than I -deserve, sire, that your majesty may never have occasion to -recall the first opinion you have been pleased to form of -me." The minister of police thanked the young man by an -eloquent look, and Villefort understood that he had -succeeded in his design that is to say, that without -forfeiting the gratitude of the king, he had made a friend -of one on whom, in case of necessity, he might rely. -"'Tis well," resumed the king. "And now, gentlemen," he -continued, turning towards M. de Blacas and the minister of -police, "I have no further occasion for you, and you may -retire what now remains to do is in the department of the -minister of war." -"Fortunately, sire," said M. de Blacas, "we can rely on the -army your majesty knows how every report confirms their -loyalty and attachment." -"Do not mention reports, duke, to me, for I know now what -confidence to place in them. Yet, speaking of reports, -baron, what have you learned with regard to the affair in -the Rue SaintJacques?" -"The affair in the Rue SaintJacques" exclaimed Villefort, -unable to repress an exclamation. Then, suddenly pausing, he -added, "Your pardon, sire, but my devotion to your majesty -has made me forget, not the respect I have, for that is too -deeply engraved in my heart, but the rules of etiquette." -"Go on, go on, sir," replied the king "you have today -earned the right to make inquiries here." -"Sire," interposed the minister of police, "I came a moment -ago to give your majesty fresh information which I had -obtained on this head, when your majesty's attention was -attracted by the terrible event that has occurred in the -gulf, and now these facts will cease to interest your -majesty." -"On the contrary, sir, on the contrary," said Louis -XVIII., "this affair seems to me to have a decided -connection with that which occupies our attention, and the -death of General Quesnel will, perhaps, put us on the direct -track of a great internal conspiracy." At the name of -General Quesnel, Villefort trembled. -"Everything points to the conclusion, sire," said the -minister of police, "that death was not the result of -suicide, as we first believed, but of assassination. General -Quesnel, it appears, had just left a Bonapartist club when -he disappeared. An unknown person had been with him that -morning, and made an appointment with him in the Rue -SaintJacques unfortunately, the general's valet, who was -dressing his hair at the moment when the stranger entered, -heard the street mentioned, but did not catch the number." -As the police minister related this to the king, Villefort, -who looked as if his very life hung on the speaker's lips, -turned alternately red and pale. The king looked towards -him. -"Do you not think with me, M. de Villefort, that General -Quesnel, whom they believed attached to the usurper, but who -was really entirely devoted to me, has perished the victim -of a Bonapartist ambush?" -"It is probable, sire," replied Villefort. "But is this all -that is known?" -"They are on the track of the man who appointed the meeting -with him." -"On his track?" said Villefort. -"Yes, the servant has given his description. He is a man of -from fifty to fiftytwo years of age, dark, with black eyes -covered with shaggy eyebrows, and a thick mustache. He was -dressed in a blue frockcoat, buttoned up to the chin, and -wore at his buttonhole the rosette of an officer of the -Legion of Honor. Yesterday a person exactly corresponding -with this description was followed, but he was lost sight of -at the corner of the Rue de la Jussienne and the Rue -CoqHeron." Villefort leaned on the back of an armchair, -for as the minister of police went on speaking he felt his -legs bend under him but when he learned that the unknown -had escaped the vigilance of the agent who followed him, he -breathed again. -"Continue to seek for this man, sir," said the king to the -minister of police "for if, as I am all but convinced, -General Quesnel, who would have been so useful to us at this -moment, has been murdered, his assassins, Bonapartists or -not, shall be cruelly punished." It required all Villefort's -coolness not to betray the terror with which this -declaration of the king inspired him. -"How strange," continued the king, with some asperity "the -police think that they have disposed of the whole matter -when they say, "A murder has been committed,' and especially -so when they can add, "And we are on the track of the guilty -persons.'" -"Sire, your majesty will, I trust, be amply satisfied on -this point at least." -"We shall see. I will no longer detain you, M. de Villefort, -for you must be fatigued after so long a journey go and -rest. Of course you stopped at your father's?" A feeling of -faintness came over Villefort. -"No, sire," he replied, "I alighted at the Hotel de Madrid, -in the Rue de Tournon." -"But you have seen him?" -"Sire, I went straight to the Duc de Blacas." -"But you will see him, then?" -"I think not, sire." -"Ah, I forgot," said Louis, smiling in a manner which proved -that all these questions were not made without a motive "I -forgot you and M. Noirtier are not on the best terms -possible, and that is another sacrifice made to the royal -cause, and for which you should be recompensed." -"Sire, the kindness your majesty deigns to evince towards me -is a recompense which so far surpasses my utmost ambition -that I have nothing more to ask for." -"Never mind, sir, we will not forget you make your mind -easy. In the meanwhile" the king here detached the cross of -the Legion of Honor which he usually wore over his blue -coat, near the cross of St. Louis, above the order of -NotreDameduMontCarmel and St. Lazare, and gave it to -Villefort "in the meanwhile take this cross." -"Sire," said Villefort, "your majesty mistakes this is an -officer's cross." -"Ma foi," said Louis XVIII., "take it, such as it is, for I -have not the time to procure you another. Blacas, let it be -your care to see that the brevet is made out and sent to M. -de Villefort." Villefort's eyes were filled with tears of -joy and pride he took the cross and kissed it. -"And now," he said, "may I inquire what are the orders with -which your majesty deigns to honor me?" -"Take what rest you require, and remember that if you are -not able to serve me here in Paris, you may be of the -greatest service to me at Marseilles." -"Sire," replied Villefort, bowing, "in an hour I shall have -quitted Paris." -"Go, sir," said the king "and should I forget you kings' -memories are short, do not be afraid to bring yourself to -my recollection. Baron, send for the minister of war. -Blacas, remain." -"Ah, sir," said the minister of police to Villefort, as they -left the Tuileries, "you entered by luck's door your -fortune is made." -"Will it be long first?" muttered Villefort, saluting the -minister, whose career was ended, and looking about him for -a hackneycoach. One passed at the moment, which he hailed -he gave his address to the driver, and springing in, threw -himself on the seat, and gave loose to dreams of ambition. -Ten minutes afterwards Villefort reached his hotel, ordered -horses to be ready in two hours, and asked to have his -breakfast brought to him. He was about to begin his repast -when the sound of the bell rang sharp and loud. The valet -opened the door, and Villefort heard some one speak his -name. -"Who could know that I was here already?" said the young -man. The valet entered. -"Well," said Villefort, "what is it? Who rang? Who -asked for me?" -"A stranger who will not send in his name." -"A stranger who will not send in his name What can he want -with me?" -"He wishes to speak to you." -"To me?" -"Yes." -"Did he mention my name?" -"Yes." -"What sort of person is he?" -"Why, sir, a man of about fifty." -"Short or tall?" -"About your own height, sir." -"Dark or fair?" -"Dark, very dark with black eyes, black hair, black -eyebrows." -"And how dressed?" asked Villefort quickly. -"In a blue frockcoat, buttoned up close, decorated with the -Legion of Honor." -"It is he" said Villefort, turning pale. -"Eh, pardieu," said the individual whose description we have -twice given, entering the door, "what a great deal of -ceremony Is it the custom in Marseilles for sons to keep -their fathers waiting in their anterooms?" -"Father" cried Villefort, "then I was not deceived I felt -sure it must be you." -"Well, then, if you felt so sure," replied the newcomer, -putting his cane in a corner and his hat on a chair, "allow -me to say, my dear Gerard, that it was not very filial of -you to keep me waiting at the door." -"Leave us, Germain," said Villefort. The servant quitted the -apartment with evident signs of astonishment. -Chapter -Father and Son. -M. Noirtier for it was, indeed, he who entered looked -after the servant until the door was closed, and then, -fearing, no doubt, that he might be overheard in the -antechamber, he opened the door again, nor was the -precaution useless, as appeared from the rapid retreat of -Germain, who proved that he was not exempt from the sin -which ruined our first parents. M. Noirtier then took the -trouble to close and bolt the antechamber door, then that -of the bedchamber, and then extended his hand to Villefort, -who had followed all his motions with surprise which he -could not conceal. -"Well, now, my dear Gerard," said he to the young man, with -a very significant look, "do you know, you seem as if you -were not very glad to see me?" -"My dear father," said Villefort, "I am, on the contrary, -delighted but I so little expected your visit, that it has -somewhat overcome me." -"But, my dear fellow," replied M. Noirtier, seating himself, -"I might say the same thing to you, when you announce to me -your wedding for the th of February, and on the rd of -March you turn up here in Paris." -"And if I have come, my dear father," said Gerard, drawing -closer to M. Noirtier, "do not complain, for it is for you -that I came, and my journey will be your salvation." -"Ah, indeed" said M. Noirtier, stretching himself out at -his ease in the chair. "Really, pray tell me all about it, -for it must be interesting." -"Father, you have heard speak of a certain Bonapartist club -in the Rue SaintJacques?" -"No. yes, I am vicepresident." -"Father, your coolness makes me shudder." -"Why, my dear boy, when a man has been proscribed by the -mountaineers, has escaped from Paris in a haycart, been -hunted over the plains of Bordeaux by Robespierre's -bloodhounds, he becomes accustomed to most things. But go -on, what about the club in the Rue SaintJacques?" -"Why, they induced General Quesnel to go there, and General -Quesnel, who quitted his own house at nine o'clock in the -evening, was found the next day in the Seine." -"And who told you this fine story?" -"The king himself." -"Well, then, in return for your story," continued Noirtier, -"I will tell you another." -"My dear father, I think I already know what you are about -to tell me." -"Ah, you have heard of the landing of the emperor?" -"Not so loud, father, I entreat of you for your own sake -as well as mine. Yes, I heard this news, and knew it even -before you could for three days ago I posted from -Marseilles to Paris with all possible speed, halfdesperate -at the enforced delay." -"Three days ago? You are crazy. Why, three days ago the -emperor had not landed." -"No matter, I was aware of his intention." -"How did you know about it?" -"By a letter addressed to you from the Island of Elba." -"To me?" -"To you and which I discovered in the pocketbook of the -messenger. Had that letter fallen into the hands of another, -you, my dear father, would probably ere this have been -shot." Villefort's father laughed. -"Come, come," said he, "will the Restoration adopt imperial -methods so promptly? Shot, my dear boy? What an idea Where -is the letter you speak of? I know you too well to suppose -you would allow such a thing to pass you." -"I burnt it, for fear that even a fragment should remain -for that letter must have led to your condemnation." -"And the destruction of your future prospects," replied -Noirtier "yes, I can easily comprehend that. But I have -nothing to fear while I have you to protect me." -"I do better than that, sir I save you." -"You do? Why, really, the thing becomes more and more -dramatic explain yourself." -"I must refer again to the club in the Rue SaintJacques." -"It appears that this club is rather a bore to the police. -Why didn't they search more vigilantly? they would have -found" -"They have not found but they are on the track." -"Yes, that the usual phrase I am quite familiar with it. -When the police is at fault, it declares that it is on the -track and the government patiently awaits the day when it -comes to say, with a sneaking air, that the track is lost." -"Yes, but they have found a corpse the general has been -killed, and in all countries they call that a murder." -"A murder do you call it? why, there is nothing to prove -that the general was murdered. People are found every day in -the Seine, having thrown themselves in, or having been -drowned from not knowing how to swim." -"Father, you know very well that the general was not a man -to drown himself in despair, and people do not bathe in the -Seine in the month of January. No, no, do not be deceived -this was murder in every sense of the word." -"And who thus designated it?" -"The king himself." -"The king I thought he was philosopher enough to allow that -there was no murder in politics. In politics, my dear -fellow, you know, as well as I do, there are no men, but -ideas no feelings, but interests in politics we do not -kill a man, we only remove an obstacle, that is all. Would -you like to know how matters have progressed? Well, I will -tell you. It was thought reliance might be placed in General -Quesnel he was recommended to us from the Island of Elba -one of us went to him, and invited him to the Rue -SaintJacques, where he would find some friends. He came -there, and the plan was unfolded to him for leaving Elba, -the projected landing, etc. When he had heard and -comprehended all to the fullest extent, he replied that he -was a royalist. Then all looked at each other, he was -made to take an oath, and did so, but with such an ill grace -that it was really tempting Providence to swear him, and -yet, in spite of that, the general was allowed to depart -free perfectly free. Yet he did not return home. What -could that mean? why, my dear fellow, that on leaving us he -lost his way, that's all. A murder? really, Villefort, you -surprise me. You, a deputy procureur, to found an accusation -on such bad premises Did I ever say to you, when you were -fulfilling your character as a royalist, and cut off the -head of one of my party, "My son, you have committed a -murder?' No, I said, "Very well, sir, you have gained the -victory tomorrow, perchance, it will be our turn.'" -"But, father, take care when our turn comes, our revenge -will be sweeping." -"I do not understand you." -"You rely on the usurper's return?" -"We do." -"You are mistaken he will not advance two leagues into the -interior of France without being followed, tracked, and -caught like a wild beast." -"My dear fellow, the emperor is at this moment on the way to -Grenoble on the th or th he will be at Lyons, and on -the th or th at Paris." -"The people will rise." -"Yes, to go and meet him." -"He has but a handful of men with him, and armies will be -despatched against him." -"Yes, to escort him into the capital. Really, my dear -Gerard, you are but a child you think yourself well -informed because the telegraph has told you, three days -after the landing, "The usurper has landed at Cannes with -several men. He is pursued.' But where is he? what is he -doing? You do not know at all, and in this way they will -chase him to Paris, without drawing a trigger." -"Grenoble and Lyons are faithful cities, and will oppose to -him an impassable barrier." -"Grenoble will open her gates to him with enthusiasm all -Lyons will hasten to welcome him. Believe me, we are as well -informed as you, and our police are as good as your own. -Would you like a proof of it? well, you wished to conceal -your journey from me, and yet I knew of your arrival half an -hour after you had passed the barrier. You gave your -direction to no one but your postilion, yet I have your -address, and in proof I am here the very instant you are -going to sit at table. Ring, then, if you please, for a -second knife, fork, and plate, and we will dine together." -"Indeed" replied Villefort, looking at his father with -astonishment, "you really do seem very well informed." -"Eh? the thing is simple enough. You who are in power have -only the means that money produces we who are in -expectation, have those which devotion prompts." -"Devotion" said Villefort, with a sneer. -"Yes, devotion for that is, I believe, the phrase for -hopeful ambition." -And Villefort's father extended his hand to the bellrope, -to summon the servant whom his son had not called. Villefort -caught his arm. -"Wait, my dear father," said the young man, "one word more." -"Say on." -"However stupid the royalist police may be, they do know one -terrible thing." -"What is that?" -"The description of the man who, on the morning of the day -when General Quesnel disappeared, presented himself at his -house." -"Oh, the admirable police have found that out, have they? -And what may be that description?" -"Dark complexion hair, eyebrows, and whiskers, black blue -frockcoat, buttoned up to the chin rosette of an officer -of the Legion of Honor in his buttonhole a hat with wide -brim, and a cane." -"Ah, ha, that's it, is it?" said Noirtier "and why, then, -have they not laid hands on him?" -"Because yesterday, or the day before, they lost sight of -him at the corner of the Rue CoqHeron." -"Didn't I say that your police were good for nothing?" -"Yes but they may catch him yet." -"True," said Noirtier, looking carelessly around him, "true, -if this person were not on his guard, as he is" and he -added with a smile, "He will consequently make a few changes -in his personal appearance." At these words he rose, and put -off his frockcoat and cravat, went towards a table on which -lay his son's toilet articles, lathered his face, took a -razor, and, with a firm hand, cut off the compromising -whiskers. Villefort watched him with alarm not devoid of -admiration. -His whiskers cut off, Noirtier gave another turn to his -hair took, instead of his black cravat, a colored -neckerchief which lay at the top of an open portmanteau put -on, in lieu of his blue and highbuttoned frockcoat, a coat -of Villefort's of dark brown, and cut away in front tried -on before the glass a narrowbrimmed hat of his son's, which -appeared to fit him perfectly, and, leaving his cane in the -corner where he had deposited it, he took up a small bamboo -switch, cut the air with it once or twice, and walked about -with that easy swagger which was one of his principal -characteristics. -"Well," he said, turning towards his wondering son, when -this disguise was completed, "well, do you think your police -will recognize me now." -"No, father," stammered Villefort "at least, I hope not." -"And now, my dear boy," continued Noirtier, "I rely on your -prudence to remove all the things which I leave in your -care." -"Oh, rely on me," said Villefort. -"Yes, yes and now I believe you are right, and that you -have really saved my life be assured I will return the -favor hereafter." Villefort shook his head. -"You are not convinced yet?" -"I hope at least, that you may be mistaken." -"Shall you see the king again?" -"Perhaps." -"Would you pass in his eyes for a prophet?" -"Prophets of evil are not in favor at the court, father." -"True, but some day they do them justice and supposing a -second restoration, you would then pass for a great man." -"Well, what should I say to the king?" -"Say this to him "Sire, you are deceived as to the feeling -in France, as to the opinions of the towns, and the -prejudices of the army he whom in Paris you call the -Corsican ogre, who at Nevers is styled the usurper, is -already saluted as Bonaparte at Lyons, and emperor at -Grenoble. You think he is tracked, pursued, captured he is -advancing as rapidly as his own eagles. The soldiers you -believe to be dying with hunger, worn out with fatigue, -ready to desert, gather like atoms of snow about the rolling -ball as it hastens onward. Sire, go, leave France to its -real master, to him who acquired it, not by purchase, but by -right of conquest go, sire, not that you incur any risk, -for your adversary is powerful enough to show you mercy, but -because it would be humiliating for a grandson of Saint -Louis to owe his life to the man of Arcola, Marengo, -Austerlitz.' Tell him this, Gerard or, rather, tell him -nothing. Keep your journey a secret do not boast of what -you have come to Paris to do, or have done return with all -speed enter Marseilles at night, and your house by the -backdoor, and there remain, quiet, submissive, secret, and, -above all, inoffensive for this time, I swear to you, we -shall act like powerful men who know their enemies. Go, my -son go, my dear Gerard, and by your obedience to my -paternal orders, or, if you prefer it, friendly counsels, we -will keep you in your place. This will be," added Noirtier, -with a smile, "one means by which you may a second time save -me, if the political balance should some day take another -turn, and cast you aloft while hurling me down. Adieu, my -dear Gerard, and at your next journey alight at my door." -Noirtier left the room when he had finished, with the same -calmness that had characterized him during the whole of this -remarkable and trying conversation. Villefort, pale and -agitated, ran to the window, put aside the curtain, and saw -him pass, cool and collected, by two or three illlooking -men at the corner of the street, who were there, perhaps, to -arrest a man with black whiskers, and a blue frockcoat, and -hat with broad brim. -Villefort stood watching, breathless, until his father had -disappeared at the Rue Bussy. Then he turned to the various -articles he had left behind him, put the black cravat and -blue frockcoat at the bottom of the portmanteau, threw the -hat into a dark closet, broke the cane into small bits and -flung it in the fire, put on his travellingcap, and calling -his valet, checked with a look the thousand questions he was -ready to ask, paid his bill, sprang into his carriage, which -was ready, learned at Lyons that Bonaparte had entered -Grenoble, and in the midst of the tumult which prevailed -along the road, at length reached Marseilles, a prey to all -the hopes and fears which enter into the heart of man with -ambition and its first successes. -Chapter -The Hundred Days. -M. Noirtier was a true prophet, and things progressed -rapidly, as he had predicted. Every one knows the history of -the famous return from Elba, a return which was -unprecedented in the past, and will probably remain without -a counterpart in the future. -Louis XVIII. made but a faint attempt to parry this -unexpected blow the monarchy he had scarcely reconstructed -tottered on its precarious foundation, and at a sign from -the emperor the incongruous structure of ancient prejudices -and new ideas fell to the ground. Villefort, therefore, -gained nothing save the king's gratitude which was rather -likely to injure him at the present time and the cross of -the Legion of Honor, which he had the prudence not to wear, -although M. de Blacas had duly forwarded the brevet. -Napoleon would, doubtless, have deprived Villefort of his -office had it not been for Noirtier, who was all powerful at -court, and thus the Girondin of ' and the Senator of -protected him who so lately had been his protector. All -Villefort's influence barely enabled him to stifle the -secret Dantes had so nearly divulged. The king's procureur -alone was deprived of his office, being suspected of -royalism. -However, scarcely was the imperial power established that -is, scarcely had the emperor reentered the Tuileries and -begun to issue orders from the closet into which we have -introduced our readers, he found on the table there Louis -XVIII.'s halffilled snuffbox, scarcely had this -occurred when Marseilles began, in spite of the authorities, -to rekindle the flames of civil war, always smouldering in -the south, and it required but little to excite the populace -to acts of far greater violence than the shouts and insults -with which they assailed the royalists whenever they -ventured abroad. -Owing to this change, the worthy shipowner became at that -moment we will not say all powerful, because Morrel was a -prudent and rather a timid man, so much so, that many of the -most zealous partisans of Bonaparte accused him of -"moderation" but sufficiently influential to make a -demand in favor of Dantes. -Villefort retained his place, but his marriage was put off -until a more favorable opportunity. If the emperor remained -on the throne, Gerard required a different alliance to aid -his career if Louis XVIII. returned, the influence of M. de -SaintMeran, like his own, could be vastly increased, and -the marriage be still more suitable. The deputyprocureur -was, therefore, the first magistrate of Marseilles, when one -morning his door opened, and M. Morrel was announced. -Any one else would have hastened to receive him but -Villefort was a man of ability, and he knew this would be a -sign of weakness. He made Morrel wait in the antechamber, -although he had no one with him, for the simple reason that -the king's procureur always makes every one wait, and after -passing a quarter of an hour in reading the papers, he -ordered M. Morrel to be admitted. -Morrel expected Villefort would be dejected he found him as -he had found him six weeks before, calm, firm, and full of -that glacial politeness, that most insurmountable barrier -which separates the wellbred from the vulgar man. -He had entered Villefort's office expecting that the -magistrate would tremble at the sight of him on the -contrary, he felt a cold shudder all over him when he saw -Villefort sitting there with his elbow on his desk, and his -head leaning on his hand. He stopped at the door Villefort -gazed at him as if he had some difficulty in recognizing -him then, after a brief interval, during which the honest -shipowner turned his hat in his hands, -"M. Morrel, I believe?" said Villefort. -"Yes, sir." -"Come nearer," said the magistrate, with a patronizing wave -of the hand, "and tell me to what circumstance I owe the -honor of this visit." -"Do you not guess, monsieur?" asked Morrel. -"Not in the least but if I can serve you in any way I shall -be delighted." -"Everything depends on you." -"Explain yourself, pray." -"Monsieur," said Morrel, recovering his assurance as he -proceeded, "do you recollect that a few days before the -landing of his majesty the emperor, I came to intercede for -a young man, the mate of my ship, who was accused of being -concerned in correspondence with the Island of Elba? What -was the other day a crime is today a title to favor. You -then served Louis XVIII., and you did not show any favor -it was your duty today you serve Napoleon, and you ought -to protect him it is equally your duty I come, -therefore, to ask what has become of him?" -Villefort by a strong effort sought to control himself. -"What is his name?" said he. "Tell me his name." -"Edmond Dantes." -Villefort would probably have rather stood opposite the -muzzle of a pistol at fiveandtwenty paces than have heard -this name spoken but he did not blanch. -"Dantes," repeated he, "Edmond Dantes." -"Yes, monsieur." Villefort opened a large register, then -went to a table, from the table turned to his registers, and -then, turning to Morrel, -"Are you quite sure you are not mistaken, monsieur?" said -he, in the most natural tone in the world. -Had Morrel been a more quicksighted man, or better versed -in these matters, he would have been surprised at the king's -procureur answering him on such a subject, instead of -referring him to the governors of the prison or the prefect -of the department. But Morrel, disappointed in his -expectations of exciting fear, was conscious only of the -other's condescension. Villefort had calculated rightly. -"No," said Morrel "I am not mistaken. I have known him for -ten years, the last four of which he was in my service. Do -not you recollect, I came about six weeks ago to plead for -clemency, as I come today to plead for justice. You -received me very coldly. Oh, the royalists were very severe -with the Bonapartists in those days." -"Monsieur," returned Villefort, "I was then a royalist, -because I believed the Bourbons not only the heirs to the -throne, but the chosen of the nation. The miraculous return -of Napoleon has conquered me, the legitimate monarch is he -who is loved by his people." -"That's right" cried Morrel. "I like to hear you speak -thus, and I augur well for Edmond from it." -"Wait a moment," said Villefort, turning over the leaves of -a register "I have it a sailor, who was about to marry a -young Catalan girl. I recollect now it was a very serious -charge." -"How so?" -"You know that when he left here he was taken to the Palais -de Justice." -"Well?" -"I made my report to the authorities at Paris, and a week -after he was carried off." -"Carried off" said Morrel. "What can they have done with -him?" -"Oh, he has been taken to Fenestrelles, to Pignerol, or to -the SainteMarguerite islands. Some fine morning he will -return to take command of your vessel." -"Come when he will, it shall be kept for him. But how is it -he is not already returned? It seems to me the first care of -government should be to set at liberty those who have -suffered for their adherence to it." -"Do not be too hasty, M. Morrel," replied Villefort. "The -order of imprisonment came from high authority, and the -order for his liberation must proceed from the same source -and, as Napoleon has scarcely been reinstated a fortnight, -the letters have not yet been forwarded." -"But," said Morrel, "is there no way of expediting all these -formalities of releasing him from arrest?" -"There has been no arrest." -"How?" -"It is sometimes essential to government to cause a man's -disappearance without leaving any traces, so that no written -forms or documents may defeat their wishes." -"It might be so under the Bourbons, but at present" -"It has always been so, my dear Morrel, since the reign of -Louis XIV. The emperor is more strict in prison discipline -than even Louis himself, and the number of prisoners whose -names are not on the register is incalculable." Had Morrel -even any suspicions, so much kindness would have dispelled -them. -"Well, M. de Villefort, how would you advise me to act?" -asked he. -"Petition the minister." -"Oh, I know what that is the minister receives two hundred -petitions every day, and does not read three." -"That is true but he will read a petition countersigned and -presented by me." -"And will you undertake to deliver it?" -"With the greatest pleasure. Dantes was then guilty, and now -he is innocent, and it is as much my duty to free him as it -was to condemn him." Villefort thus forestalled any danger -of an inquiry, which, however improbable it might be, if it -did take place would leave him defenceless. -"But how shall I address the minister?" -"Sit down there," said Villefort, giving up his place to -Morrel, "and write what I dictate." -"Will you be so good?" -"Certainly. But lose no time we have lost too much -already." -"That is true. Only think what the poor fellow may even now -be suffering." Villefort shuddered at the suggestion but he -had gone too far to draw back. Dantes must be crushed to -gratify Villefort's ambition. -Villefort dictated a petition, in which, from an excellent -intention, no doubt, Dantes' patriotic services were -exaggerated, and he was made out one of the most active -agents of Napoleon's return. It was evident that at the -sight of this document the minister would instantly release -him. The petition finished, Villefort read it aloud. -"That will do," said he "leave the rest to me." -"Will the petition go soon?" -"Today." -"Countersigned by you?" -"The best thing I can do will be to certify the truth of the -contents of your petition." And, sitting down, Villefort -wrote the certificate at the bottom. -"What more is to be done?" -"I will do whatever is necessary." This assurance delighted -Morrel, who took leave of Villefort, and hastened to -announce to old Dantes that he would soon see his son. -As for Villefort, instead of sending to Paris, he carefully -preserved the petition that so fearfully compromised Dantes, -in the hopes of an event that seemed not unlikely, that -is, a second restoration. Dantes remained a prisoner, and -heard not the noise of the fall of Louis XVIII.'s throne, or -the still more tragic destruction of the empire. -Twice during the Hundred Days had Morrel renewed his demand, -and twice had Villefort soothed him with promises. At last -there was Waterloo, and Morrel came no more he had done all -that was in his power, and any fresh attempt would only -compromise himself uselessly. -Louis XVIII. remounted the throne Villefort, to whom -Marseilles had become filled with remorseful memories, -sought and obtained the situation of king's procureur at -Toulouse, and a fortnight afterwards he married Mademoiselle -de SaintMeran, whose father now stood higher at court than -ever. -And so Dantes, after the Hundred Days and after Waterloo, -remained in his dungeon, forgotten of earth and heaven. -Danglars comprehended the full extent of the wretched fate -that overwhelmed Dantes and, when Napoleon returned to -France, he, after the manner of mediocre minds, termed the -coincidence, "a decree of Providence." But when Napoleon -returned to Paris, Danglars' heart failed him, and he lived -in constant fear of Dantes' return on a mission of -vengeance. He therefore informed M. Morrel of his wish to -quit the sea, and obtained a recommendation from him to a -Spanish merchant, into whose service he entered at the end -of March, that is, ten or twelve days after Napoleon's -return. He then left for Madrid, and was no more heard of. -Fernand understood nothing except that Dantes was absent. -What had become of him he cared not to inquire. Only, during -the respite the absence of his rival afforded him, he -reflected, partly on the means of deceiving Mercedes as to -the cause of his absence, partly on plans of emigration and -abduction, as from time to time he sat sad and motionless on -the summit of Cape Pharo, at the spot from whence Marseilles -and the Catalans are visible, watching for the apparition of -a young and handsome man, who was for him also the messenger -of vengeance. Fernand's mind was made up he would shoot -Dantes, and then kill himself. But Fernand was mistaken a -man of his disposition never kills himself, for he -constantly hopes. -During this time the empire made its last conscription, and -every man in France capable of bearing arms rushed to obey -the summons of the emperor. Fernand departed with the rest, -bearing with him the terrible thought that while he was -away, his rival would perhaps return and marry Mercedes. Had -Fernand really meant to kill himself, he would have done so -when he parted from Mercedes. His devotion, and the -compassion he showed for her misfortunes, produced the -effect they always produce on noble minds Mercedes had -always had a sincere regard for Fernand, and this was now -strengthened by gratitude. -"My brother," said she as she placed his knapsack on his -shoulders, "be careful of yourself, for if you are killed, I -shall be alone in the world." These words carried a ray of -hope into Fernand's heart. Should Dantes not return, -Mercedes might one day be his. -Mercedes was left alone face to face with the vast plain -that had never seemed so barren, and the sea that had never -seemed so vast. Bathed in tears she wandered about the -Catalan village. Sometimes she stood mute and motionless as -a statue, looking towards Marseilles, at other times gazing -on the sea, and debating as to whether it were not better to -cast herself into the abyss of the ocean, and thus end her -woes. It was not want of courage that prevented her putting -this resolution into execution but her religious feelings -came to her aid and saved her. Caderousse was, like Fernand, -enrolled in the army, but, being married and eight years -older, he was merely sent to the frontier. Old Dantes, who -was only sustained by hope, lost all hope at Napoleon's -downfall. Five months after he had been separated from his -son, and almost at the hour of his arrest, he breathed his -last in Mercedes' arms. M. Morrel paid the expenses of his -funeral, and a few small debts the poor old man had -contracted. -There was more than benevolence in this action there was -courage the south was aflame, and to assist, even on his -deathbed, the father of so dangerous a Bonapartist as -Dantes, was stigmatized as a crime. -Chapter -The Two Prisoners. -A year after Louis XVIII.'s restoration, a visit was made by -the inspectorgeneral of prisons. Dantes in his cell heard -the noise of preparation, sounds that at the depth where -he lay would have been inaudible to any but the ear of a -prisoner, who could hear the splash of the drop of water that -every hour fell from the roof of his dungeon. He guessed -something uncommon was passing among the living but he had -so long ceased to have any intercourse with the world, that -he looked upon himself as dead. -The inspector visited, one after another, the cells and -dungeons of several of the prisoners, whose good behavior or -stupidity recommended them to the clemency of the -government. He inquired how they were fed, and if they had -any request to make. The universal response was, that the -fare was detestable, and that they wanted to be set free. -The inspector asked if they had anything else to ask for. -They shook their heads. What could they desire beyond their -liberty? The inspector turned smilingly to the governor. -"I do not know what reason government can assign for these -useless visits when you see one prisoner, you see all, -always the same thing, ill fed and innocent. Are there -any others?" -"Yes the dangerous and mad prisoners are in the dungeons." -"Let us visit them," said the inspector with an air of -fatigue. "We must play the farce to the end. Let us see the -dungeons." -"Let us first send for two soldiers," said the governor. -"The prisoners sometimes, through mere uneasiness of life, -and in order to be sentenced to death, commit acts of -useless violence, and you might fall a victim." -"Take all needful precautions," replied the inspector. -Two soldiers were accordingly sent for, and the inspector -descended a stairway, so foul, so humid, so dark, as to be -loathsome to sight, smell, and respiration. -"Oh," cried the inspector, "who can live here?" -"A most dangerous conspirator, a man we are ordered to keep -the most strict watch over, as he is daring and resolute." -"He is alone?" -"Certainly." -"How long his he been there?" -"Nearly a year." -"Was he placed here when he first arrived?" -"No not until he attempted to kill the turnkey, who took -his food to him." -"To kill the turnkey?" -"Yes, the very one who is lighting us. Is it not true, -Antoine?" asked the governor. -"True enough he wanted to kill me" returned the turnkey. -"He must be mad," said the inspector. -"He is worse than that, he is a devil" returned the -turnkey. -"Shall I complain of him?" demanded the inspector. -"Oh, no it is useless. Besides, he is almost mad now, and -in another year he will be quite so." -"So much the better for him, he will suffer less," said -the inspector. He was, as this remark shows, a man full of -philanthropy, and in every way fit for his office. -"You are right, sir," replied the governor "and this remark -proves that you have deeply considered the subject. Now we -have in a dungeon about twenty feet distant, and to which -you descend by another stair, an abbe, formerly leader of a -party in Italy, who has been here since , and in he -went mad, and the change is astonishing. He used to weep, he -now laughs he grew thin, he now grows fat. You had better -see him, for his madness is amusing." -"I will see them both," returned the inspector "I must -conscientiously perform my duty." This was the inspector's -first visit he wished to display his authority. -"Let us visit this one first," added he. -"By all means," replied the governor, and he signed to the -turnkey to open the door. At the sound of the key turning in -the lock, and the creaking of the hinges, Dantes, who was -crouched in a corner of the dungeon, whence he could see the -ray of light that came through a narrow iron grating above, -raised his head. Seeing a stranger, escorted by two turnkeys -holding torches and accompanied by two soldiers, and to whom -the governor spoke bareheaded, Dantes, who guessed the -truth, and that the moment to address himself to the -superior authorities was come, sprang forward with clasped -hands. -The soldiers interposed their bayonets, for they thought -that he was about to attack the inspector, and the latter -recoiled two or three steps. Dantes saw that he was looked -upon as dangerous. Then, infusing all the humility he -possessed into his eyes and voice, he addressed the -inspector, and sought to inspire him with pity. -The inspector listened attentively then, turning to the -governor, observed, "He will become religious he is -already more gentle he is afraid, and retreated before the -bayonets madmen are not afraid of anything I made some -curious observations on this at Charenton." Then, turning to -the prisoner, "What is it you want?" said he. -"I want to know what crime I have committed to be tried -and if I am guilty, to be shot if innocent, to be set at -liberty." -"Are you well fed?" said the inspector. -"I believe so I don't know it's of no consequence. What -matters really, not only to me, but to officers of justice -and the king, is that an innocent man should languish in -prison, the victim of an infamous denunciation, to die here -cursing his executioners." -"You are very humble today," remarked the governor "you -are not so always the other day, for instance, when you -tried to kill the turnkey." -"It is true, sir, and I beg his pardon, for he his always -been very good to me, but I was mad." -"And you are not so any longer?" -"No captivity has subdued me I have been here so long." -"So long? when were you arrested, then?" asked the -inspector. -"The th of February, , at halfpast two in the -afternoon." -"Today is the th of July, , why it is but -seventeen months." -"Only seventeen months," replied Dantes. "Oh, you do not -know what is seventeen months in prison seventeen ages -rather, especially to a man who, like me, had arrived at the -summit of his ambition to a man, who, like me, was on the -point of marrying a woman he adored, who saw an honorable -career opened before him, and who loses all in an instant -who sees his prospects destroyed, and is ignorant of the -fate of his affianced wife, and whether his aged father be -still living Seventeen months captivity to a sailor -accustomed to the boundless ocean, is a worse punishment -than human crime ever merited. Have pity on me, then, and -ask for me, not intelligence, but a trial not pardon, but a -verdict a trial, sir, I ask only for a trial that, -surely, cannot be denied to one who is accused" -"We shall see," said the inspector then, turning to the -governor, "On my word, the poor devil touches me. You must -show me the proofs against him." -"Certainly but you will find terrible charges." -"Monsieur," continued Dantes, "I know it is not in your -power to release me but you can plead for me you can -have me tried and that is all I ask. Let me know my -crime, and the reason why I was condemned. Uncertainty is -worse than all." -"Go on with the lights," said the inspector. -"Monsieur," cried Dantes, "I can tell by your voice you are -touched with pity tell me at least to hope." -"I cannot tell you that," replied the inspector "I can only -promise to examine into your case." -"Oh, I am free then I am saved" -"Who arrested you?" -"M. Villefort. See him, and hear what he says." -"M. Villefort is no longer at Marseilles he is now at -Toulouse." -"I am no longer surprised at my detention," murmured Dantes, -"since my only protector is removed." -"Had M. de Villefort any cause of personal dislike to you?" -"None on the contrary, he was very kind to me." -"I can, then, rely on the notes he has left concerning you?" -"Entirely." -"That is well wait patiently, then." Dantes fell on his -knees, and prayed earnestly. The door closed but this time -a fresh inmate was left with Dantes hope. -"Will you see the register at once," asked the governor, "or -proceed to the other cell?" -"Let us visit them all," said the inspector. "If I once went -up those stairs. I should never have the courage to come -down again." -"Ah, this one is not like the other, and his madness is less -affecting than this one's display of reason." -"What is his folly?" -"He fancies he possesses an immense treasure. The first year -he offered government a million of francs for his release -the second, two the third, three and so on progressively. -He is now in his fifth year of captivity he will ask to -speak to you in private, and offer you five millions." -"How curious what is his name?" -"The Abbe Faria." -"No. ," said the inspector. -"It is here unlock the door, Antoine." The turnkey obeyed, -and the inspector gazed curiously into the chamber of the -"mad abbe." -In the centre of the cell, in a circle traced with a -fragment of plaster detached from the wall, sat a man whose -tattered garments scarcely covered him. He was drawing in -this circle geometrical lines, and seemed as much absorbed -in his problem as Archimedes was when the soldier of -Marcellus slew him. -He did not move at the sound of the door, and continued his -calculations until the flash of the torches lighted up with -an unwonted glare the sombre walls of his cell then, -raising his head, he perceived with astonishment the number -of persons present. He hastily seized the coverlet of his -bed, and wrapped it round him. -"What is it you want?" said the inspector. -"I, monsieur," replied the abbe with an air of surprise -"I want nothing." -"You do not understand," continued the inspector "I am sent -here by government to visit the prison, and hear the -requests of the prisoners." -"Oh, that is different," cried the abbe "and we shall -understand each other, I hope." -"There, now," whispered the governor, "it is just as I told -you." -"Monsieur," continued the prisoner, "I am the Abbe Faria, -born at Rome. I was for twenty years Cardinal Spada's -secretary I was arrested, why, I know not, toward the -beginning of the year since then I have demanded my -liberty from the Italian and French government." -"Why from the French government?" -"Because I was arrested at Piombino, and I presume that, -like Milan and Florence, Piombino has become the capital of -some French department." -"Ah," said the inspector, "you have not the latest news from -Italy?" -"My information dates from the day on which I was arrested," -returned the Abbe Faria "and as the emperor had created the -kingdom of Rome for his infant son, I presume that he has -realized the dream of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia, which -was to make Italy a united kingdom." -"Monsieur," returned the inspector, "providence has changed -this gigantic plan you advocate so warmly." -"It is the only means of rendering Italy strong, happy, and -independent." -"Very possibly only I am not come to discuss politics, but -to inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of." -"The food is the same as in other prisons, that is, very -bad the lodging is very unhealthful, but, on the whole, -passable for a dungeon but it is not that which I wish to -speak of, but a secret I have to reveal of the greatest -importance." -"We are coming to the point," whispered the governor. -"It is for that reason I am delighted to see you," continued -the abbe, "although you have disturbed me in a most -important calculation, which, if it succeeded, would -possibly change Newton's system. Could you allow me a few -words in private." -"What did I tell you?" said the governor. -"You knew him," returned the inspector with a smile. -"What you ask is impossible, monsieur," continued he, -addressing Faria. -"But," said the abbe, "I would speak to you of a large sum, -amounting to five millions." -"The very sum you named," whispered the inspector in his -turn. -"However," continued Faria, seeing that the inspector was -about to depart, "it is not absolutely necessary for us to -be alone the governor can be present." -"Unfortunately," said the governor, "I know beforehand what -you are about to say it concerns your treasures, does it -not?" Faria fixed his eyes on him with an expression that -would have convinced any one else of his sanity. -"Of course," said he "of what else should I speak?" -"Mr. Inspector," continued the governor, "I can tell you the -story as well as he, for it has been dinned in my ears for -the last four or five years." -"That proves," returned the abbe, "that you are like those -of Holy Writ, who having ears hear not, and having eyes see -not." -"My dear sir, the government is rich and does not want your -treasures," replied the inspector "keep them until you are -liberated." The abbe's eyes glistened he seized the -inspector's hand. -"But what if I am not liberated," cried he, "and am detained -here until my death? this treasure will be lost. Had not -government better profit by it? I will offer six millions, -and I will content myself with the rest, if they will only -give me my liberty." -"On my word," said the inspector in a low tone, "had I not -been told beforehand that this man was mad, I should believe -what he says." -"I am not mad," replied Faria, with that acuteness of -hearing peculiar to prisoners. "The treasure I speak of -really exists, and I offer to sign an agreement with you, in -which I promise to lead you to the spot where you shall dig -and if I deceive you, bring me here again, I ask no -more." -The governor laughed. "Is the spot far from here?" -"A hundred leagues." -"It is not illplanned," said the governor. "If all the -prisoners took it into their heads to travel a hundred -leagues, and their guardians consented to accompany them, -they would have a capital chance of escaping." -"The scheme is well known," said the inspector "and the -abbe's plan has not even the merit of originality." -Then turning to Faria "I inquired if you are well fed?" -said he. -"Swear to me," replied Faria, "to free me if what I tell you -prove true, and I will stay here while you go to the spot." -"Are you well fed?" repeated the inspector. -"Monsieur, you run no risk, for, as I told you, I will stay -here so there is no chance of my escaping." -"You do not reply to my question," replied the inspector -impatiently. -"Nor you to mine," cried the abbe. "You will not accept my -gold I will keep it for myself. You refuse me my liberty -God will give it me." And the abbe, casting away his -coverlet, resumed his place, and continued his calculations. -"What is he doing there?" said the inspector. -"Counting his treasures," replied the governor. -Faria replied to this sarcasm with a glance of profound -contempt. They went out. The turnkey closed the door behind -them. -"He was wealthy once, perhaps?" said the inspector. -"Or dreamed he was, and awoke mad." -"After all," said the inspector, "if he had been rich, he -would not have been here." So the matter ended for the Abbe -Faria. He remained in his cell, and this visit only -increased the belief in his insanity. -Caligula or Nero, those treasureseekers, those desirers of -the impossible, would have accorded to the poor wretch, in -exchange for his wealth, the liberty he so earnestly prayed -for. But the kings of modern times, restrained by the limits -of mere probability, have neither courage nor desire. They -fear the ear that hears their orders, and the eye that -scrutinizes their actions. Formerly they believed themselves -sprung from Jupiter, and shielded by their birth but -nowadays they are not inviolable. -It has always been against the policy of despotic -governments to suffer the victims of their persecutions to -reappear. As the Inquisition rarely allowed its victims to -be seen with their limbs distorted and their flesh lacerated -by torture, so madness is always concealed in its cell, from -whence, should it depart, it is conveyed to some gloomy -hospital, where the doctor has no thought for man or mind in -the mutilated being the jailer delivers to him. The very -madness of the Abbe Faria, gone mad in prison, condemned him -to perpetual captivity. -The inspector kept his word with Dantes he examined the -register, and found the following note concerning him -Edmond Dantes -Violent Bonapartist took an active part in the return from -Elba. -The greatest watchfulness and care to be exercised. -This note was in a different hand from the rest, which -showed that it had been added since his confinement. The -inspector could not contend against this accusation he -simply wrote, "Nothing to be done." -This visit had infused new vigor into Dantes he had, till -then, forgotten the date but now, with a fragment of -plaster, he wrote the date, th July, , and made a mark -every day, in order not to lose his reckoning again. Days -and weeks passed away, then months Dantes still waited -he at first expected to be freed in a fortnight. This -fortnight expired, he decided that the inspector would do -nothing until his return to Paris, and that he would not -reach there until his circuit was finished, he therefore -fixed three months three months passed away, then six more. -Finally ten months and a half had gone by and no favorable -change had taken place, and Dantes began to fancy the -inspector's visit but a dream, an illusion of the brain. -At the expiration of a year the governor was transferred he -had obtained charge of the fortress at Ham. He took with him -several of his subordinates, and amongst them Dantes' -jailer. A new governor arrived it would have been too -tedious to acquire the names of the prisoners he learned -their numbers instead. This horrible place contained fifty -cells their inhabitants were designated by the numbers of -their cell, and the unhappy young man was no longer called -Edmond Dantes he was now number . -Chapter -Number and Number . -Dantes passed through all the stages of torture natural to -prisoners in suspense. He was sustained at first by that -pride of conscious innocence which is the sequence to hope -then he began to doubt his own innocence, which justified in -some measure the governor's belief in his mental alienation -and then, relaxing his sentiment of pride, he addressed his -supplications, not to God, but to man. God is always the -last resource. Unfortunates, who ought to begin with God, do -not have any hope in him till they have exhausted all other -means of deliverance. -Dantes asked to be removed from his present dungeon into -another for a change, however disadvantageous, was still a -change, and would afford him some amusement. He entreated to -be allowed to walk about, to have fresh air, books, and -writing materials. His requests were not granted, but he -went on asking all the same. He accustomed himself to -speaking to the new jailer, although the latter was, if -possible, more taciturn than the old one but still, to -speak to a man, even though mute, was something. Dantes -spoke for the sake of hearing his own voice he had tried to -speak when alone, but the sound of his voice terrified him. -Often, before his captivity, Dantes' mind had revolted at -the idea of assemblages of prisoners, made up of thieves, -vagabonds, and murderers. He now wished to be amongst them, -in order to see some other face besides that of his jailer -he sighed for the galleys, with the infamous costume, the -chain, and the brand on the shoulder. The galleyslaves -breathed the fresh air of heaven, and saw each other. They -were very happy. He besought the jailer one day to let him -have a companion, were it even the mad abbe. -The jailer, though rough and hardened by the constant sight -of so much suffering, was yet a man. At the bottom of his -heart he had often had a feeling of pity for this unhappy -young man who suffered so and he laid the request of number - before the governor but the latter sapiently imagined -that Dantes wished to conspire or attempt an escape, and -refused his request. Dantes had exhausted all human -resources, and he then turned to God. -All the pious ideas that had been so long forgotten, -returned he recollected the prayers his mother had taught -him, and discovered a new meaning in every word for in -prosperity prayers seem but a mere medley of words, until -misfortune comes and the unhappy sufferer first understands -the meaning of the sublime language in which he invokes the -pity of heaven He prayed, and prayed aloud, no longer -terrified at the sound of his own voice, for he fell into a -sort of ecstasy. He laid every action of his life before the -Almighty, proposed tasks to accomplish, and at the end of -every prayer introduced the entreaty oftener addressed to -man than to God "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive -them that trespass against us." Yet in spite of his earnest -prayers, Dantes remained a prisoner. -Then gloom settled heavily upon him. Dantes was a man of -great simplicity of thought, and without education he could -not, therefore, in the solitude of his dungeon, traverse in -mental vision the history of the ages, bring to life the -nations that had perished, and rebuild the ancient cities so -vast and stupendous in the light of the imagination, and -that pass before the eye glowing with celestial colors in -Martin's Babylonian pictures. He could not do this, he whose -past life was so short, whose present so melancholy, and his -future so doubtful. Nineteen years of light to reflect upon -in eternal darkness No distraction could come to his aid -his energetic spirit, that would have exalted in thus -revisiting the past, was imprisoned like an eagle in a cage. -He clung to one idea that of his happiness, destroyed, -without apparent cause, by an unheardof fatality he -considered and reconsidered this idea, devoured it so to -speak, as the implacable Ugolino devours the skull of -Archbishop Roger in the Inferno of Dante. -Rage supplanted religious fervor. Dantes uttered blasphemies -that made his jailer recoil with horror, dashed himself -furiously against the walls of his prison, wreaked his anger -upon everything, and chiefly upon himself, so that the least -thing, a grain of sand, a straw, or a breath of air that -annoyed him, led to paroxysms of fury. Then the letter that -Villefort had showed to him recurred to his mind, and every -line gleamed forth in fiery letters on the wall like the -mene tekel upharsin of Belshazzar. He told himself that it -was the enmity of man, and not the vengeance of heaven, that -had thus plunged him into the deepest misery. He consigned -his unknown persecutors to the most horrible tortures he -could imagine, and found them all insufficient, because -after torture came death, and after death, if not repose, at -least the boon of unconsciousness. -By dint of constantly dwelling on the idea that tranquillity -was death, and if punishment were the end in view other -tortures than death must be invented, he began to reflect on -suicide. Unhappy he, who, on the brink of misfortune, broods -over ideas like these -Before him is a dead sea that stretches in azure calm before -the eye but he who unwarily ventures within its embrace -finds himself struggling with a monster that would drag him -down to perdition. Once thus ensnared, unless the protecting -hand of God snatch him thence, all is over, and his -struggles but tend to hasten his destruction. This state of -mental anguish is, however, less terrible than the -sufferings that precede or the punishment that possibly will -follow. There is a sort of consolation at the contemplation -of the yawning abyss, at the bottom of which lie darkness -and obscurity. -Edmond found some solace in these ideas. All his sorrows, -all his sufferings, with their train of gloomy spectres, -fled from his cell when the angel of death seemed about to -enter. Dantes reviewed his past life with composure, and, -looking forward with terror to his future existence, chose -that middle line that seemed to afford him a refuge. -"Sometimes," said he, "in my voyages, when I was a man and -commanded other men, I have seen the heavens overcast, the -sea rage and foam, the storm arise, and, like a monstrous -bird, beating the two horizons with its wings. Then I felt -that my vessel was a vain refuge, that trembled and shook -before the tempest. Soon the fury of the waves and the sight -of the sharp rocks announced the approach of death, and -death then terrified me, and I used all my skill and -intelligence as a man and a sailor to struggle against the -wrath of God. But I did so because I was happy, because I -had not courted death, because to be cast upon a bed of -rocks and seaweed seemed terrible, because I was unwilling -that I, a creature made for the service of God, should serve -for food to the gulls and ravens. But now it is different I -have lost all that bound me to life, death smiles and -invites me to repose I die after my own manner, I die -exhausted and brokenspirited, as I fall asleep when I have -paced three thousand times round my cell." -No sooner had this idea taken possession of him than he -became more composed, arranged his couch to the best of his -power, ate little and slept less, and found existence almost -supportable, because he felt that he could throw it off at -pleasure, like a wornout garment. Two methods of -selfdestruction were at his disposal. He could hang himself -with his handkerchief to the window bars, or refuse food and -die of starvation. But the first was repugnant to him. -Dantes had always entertained the greatest horror of -pirates, who are hung up to the yardarm he would not die -by what seemed an infamous death. He resolved to adopt the -second, and began that day to carry out his resolve. Nearly -four years had passed away at the end of the second he had -ceased to mark the lapse of time. -Dantes said, "I wish to die," and had chosen the manner of -his death, and fearful of changing his mind, he had taken an -oath to die. "When my morning and evening meals are -brought," thought he, "I will cast them out of the window, -and they will think that I have eaten them." -He kept his word twice a day he cast out, through the -barred aperture, the provisions his jailer brought him at -first gayly, then with deliberation, and at last with -regret. Nothing but the recollection of his oath gave him -strength to proceed. Hunger made viands once repugnant, now -acceptable he held the plate in his hand for an hour at a -time, and gazed thoughtfully at the morsel of bad meat, of -tainted fish, of black and mouldy bread. It was the last -yearning for life contending with the resolution of despair -then his dungeon seemed less sombre, his prospects less -desperate. He was still young he was only four or five -and twenty he had nearly fifty years to live. What -unforseen events might not open his prison door, and restore -him to liberty? Then he raised to his lips the repast that, -like a voluntary Tantalus, he refused himself but he -thought of his oath, and he would not break it. He persisted -until, at last, he had not sufficient strength to rise and -cast his supper out of the loophole. The next morning he -could not see or hear the jailer feared he was dangerously -ill. Edmond hoped he was dying. -Thus the day passed away. Edmond felt a sort of stupor -creeping over him which brought with it a feeling almost of -content the gnawing pain at his stomach had ceased his -thirst had abated when he closed his eyes he saw myriads of -lights dancing before them like the willo'thewisps that -play about the marshes. It was the twilight of that -mysterious country called Death -Suddenly, about nine o'clock in the evening, Edmond heard a -hollow sound in the wall against which he was lying. -So many loathsome animals inhabited the prison, that their -noise did not, in general, awake him but whether abstinence -had quickened his faculties, or whether the noise was really -louder than usual, Edmond raised his head and listened. It -was a continual scratching, as if made by a huge claw, a -powerful tooth, or some iron instrument attacking the -stones. -Although weakened, the young man's brain instantly responded -to the idea that haunts all prisoners liberty It seemed -to him that heaven had at length taken pity on him, and had -sent this noise to warn him on the very brink of the abyss. -Perhaps one of those beloved ones he had so often thought of -was thinking of him, and striving to diminish the distance -that separated them. -No, no, doubtless he was deceived, and it was but one of -those dreams that forerun death -Edmond still heard the sound. It lasted nearly three hours -he then heard a noise of something falling, and all was -silent. -Some hours afterwards it began again, nearer and more -distinct. Edmond was intensely interested. Suddenly the -jailer entered. -For a week since he had resolved to die, and during the four -days that he had been carrying out his purpose, Edmond had -not spoken to the attendant, had not answered him when he -inquired what was the matter with him, and turned his face -to the wall when he looked too curiously at him but now the -jailer might hear the noise and put an end to it, and so -destroy a ray of something like hope that soothed his last -moments. -The jailer brought him his breakfast. Dantes raised himself -up and began to talk about everything about the bad quality -of the food, about the coldness of his dungeon, grumbling -and complaining, in order to have an excuse for speaking -louder, and wearying the patience of his jailer, who out of -kindness of heart had brought broth and white bread for his -prisoner. -Fortunately, he fancied that Dantes was delirious and -placing the food on the rickety table, he withdrew. Edmond -listened, and the sound became more and more distinct. -"There can be no doubt about it," thought he "it is some -prisoner who is striving to obtain his freedom. Oh, if I -were only there to help him" Suddenly another idea took -possession of his mind, so used to misfortune, that it was -scarcely capable of hope the idea that the noise was made -by workmen the governor had ordered to repair the -neighboring dungeon. -It was easy to ascertain this but how could he risk the -question? It was easy to call his jailer's attention to the -noise, and watch his countenance as he listened but might -he not by this means destroy hopes far more important than -the shortlived satisfaction of his own curiosity? -Unfortunately, Edmond's brain was still so feeble that he -could not bend his thoughts to anything in particular. -He saw but one means of restoring lucidity and clearness to -his judgment. He turned his eyes towards the soup which the -jailer had brought, rose, staggered towards it, raised the -vessel to his lips, and drank off the contents with a -feeling of indescribable pleasure. He had often heard that -shipwrecked persons had died through having eagerly devoured -too much food. Edmond replaced on the table the bread he was -about to devour, and returned to his couch he did not -wish to die. He soon felt that his ideas became again -collected he could think, and strengthen his thoughts by -reasoning. Then he said to himself, "I must put this to the -test, but without compromising anybody. If it is a workman, -I need but knock against the wall, and he will cease to -work, in order to find out who is knocking, and why he does -so but as his occupation is sanctioned by the governor, he -will soon resume it. If, on the contrary, it is a prisoner, -the noise I make will alarm him, he will cease, and not -begin again until he thinks every one is asleep." -Edmond rose again, but this time his legs did not tremble, -and his sight was clear he went to a corner of his dungeon, -detached a stone, and with it knocked against the wall where -the sound came. He struck thrice. At the first blow the -sound ceased, as if by magic. -Edmond listened intently an hour passed, two hours passed, -and no sound was heard from the wall all was silent -there. -Full of hope, Edmond swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread and -water, and, thanks to the vigor of his constitution, found -himself wellnigh recovered. -The day passed away in utter silence night came without -recurrence of the noise. -"It is a prisoner," said Edmond joyfully. The night passed -in perfect silence. Edmond did not close his eyes. -In the morning the jailer brought him fresh provisions he -had already devoured those of the previous day he ate these -listening anxiously for the sound, walking round and round -his cell, shaking the iron bars of the loophole, restoring -vigor and agility to his limbs by exercise, and so preparing -himself for his future destiny. At intervals he listened to -learn if the noise had not begun again, and grew impatient -at the prudence of the prisoner, who did not guess he had -been disturbed by a captive as anxious for liberty as -himself. -Three days passed seventytwo long tedious hours which he -counted off by minutes -At length one evening, as the jailer was visiting him for -the last time that night, Dantes, with his ear for the -hundredth time at the wall, fancied he heard an almost -imperceptible movement among the stones. He moved away, -walked up and down his cell to collect his thoughts, and -then went back and listened. -The matter was no longer doubtful. Something was at work on -the other side of the wall the prisoner had discovered the -danger, and had substituted a lever for a chisel. -Encouraged by this discovery, Edmond determined to assist -the indefatigable laborer. He began by moving his bed, and -looked around for anything with which he could pierce the -wall, penetrate the moist cement, and displace a stone. -He saw nothing, he had no knife or sharp instrument, the -window grating was of iron, but he had too often assured -himself of its solidity. All his furniture consisted of a -bed, a chair, a table, a pail, and a jug. The bed had iron -clamps, but they were screwed to the wood, and it would have -required a screwdriver to take them off. The table and -chair had nothing, the pail had once possessed a handle, but -that had been removed. -Dantes had but one resource, which was to break the jug, and -with one of the sharp fragments attack the wall. He let the -jug fall on the floor, and it broke in pieces. -Dantes concealed two or three of the sharpest fragments in -his bed, leaving the rest on the floor. The breaking of his -jug was too natural an accident to excite suspicion. Edmond -had all the night to work in, but in the darkness he could -not do much, and he soon felt that he was working against -something very hard he pushed back his bed, and waited for -day. -All night he heard the subterranean workman, who continued -to mine his way. Day came, the jailer entered. Dantes told -him that the jug had fallen from his hands while he was -drinking, and the jailer went grumblingly to fetch another, -without giving himself the trouble to remove the fragments -of the broken one. He returned speedily, advised the -prisoner to be more careful, and departed. -Dantes heard joyfully the key grate in the lock he listened -until the sound of steps died away, and then, hastily -displacing his bed, saw by the faint light that penetrated -into his cell, that he had labored uselessly the previous -evening in attacking the stone instead of removing the -plaster that surrounded it. -The damp had rendered it friable, and Dantes was able to -break it off in small morsels, it is true, but at the end -of half an hour he had scraped off a handful a -mathematician might have calculated that in two years, -supposing that the rock was not encountered, a passage -twenty feet long and two feet broad, might be formed. -The prisoner reproached himself with not having thus -employed the hours he had passed in vain hopes, prayer, and -despondency. During the six years that he had been -imprisoned, what might he not have accomplished? -In three days he had succeeded, with the utmost precaution, -in removing the cement, and exposing the stonework. The -wall was built of rough stones, among which, to give -strength to the structure, blocks of hewn stone were at -intervals imbedded. It was one of these he had uncovered, -and which he must remove from its socket. -Dantes strove to do this with his nails, but they were too -weak. The fragments of the jug broke, and after an hour of -useless toil, he paused. -Was he to be thus stopped at the beginning, and was he to -wait inactive until his fellow workman had completed his -task? Suddenly an idea occurred to him he smiled, and the -perspiration dried on his forehead. -The jailer always brought Dantes' soup in an iron saucepan -this saucepan contained soup for both prisoners, for Dantes -had noticed that it was either quite full, or half empty, -according as the turnkey gave it to him or to his companion -first. -The handle of this saucepan was of iron Dantes would have -given ten years of his life in exchange for it. -The jailer was accustomed to pour the contents of the -saucepan into Dantes' plate, and Dantes, after eating his -soup with a wooden spoon, washed the plate, which thus -served for every day. Now when evening came Dantes put his -plate on the ground near the door the jailer, as he -entered, stepped on it and broke it. -This time he could not blame Dantes. He was wrong to leave -it there, but the jailer was wrong not to have looked before -him. -The jailer, therefore, only grumbled. Then he looked about -for something to pour the soup into Dantes' entire dinner -service consisted of one plate there was no alternative. -"Leave the saucepan," said Dantes "you can take it away -when you bring me my breakfast." This advice was to the -jailer's taste, as it spared him the necessity of making -another trip. He left the saucepan. -Dantes was beside himself with joy. He rapidly devoured his -food, and after waiting an hour, lest the jailer should -change his mind and return, he removed his bed, took the -handle of the saucepan, inserted the point between the hewn -stone and rough stones of the wall, and employed it as a -lever. A slight oscillation showed Dantes that all went -well. At the end of an hour the stone was extricated from -the wall, leaving a cavity a foot and a half in diameter. -Dantes carefully collected the plaster, carried it into the -corner of his cell, and covered it with earth. Then, wishing -to make the best use of his time while he had the means of -labor, he continued to work without ceasing. At the dawn of -day he replaced the stone, pushed his bed against the wall, -and lay down. The breakfast consisted of a piece of bread -the jailer entered and placed the bread on the table. -"Well, don't you intend to bring me another plate?" said -Dantes. -"No," replied the turnkey "you destroy everything. First -you break your jug, then you make me break your plate if -all the prisoners followed your example, the government -would be ruined. I shall leave you the saucepan, and pour -your soup into that. So for the future I hope you will not -be so destructive." -Dantes raised his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands -beneath the coverlet. He felt more gratitude for the -possession of this piece of iron than he had ever felt for -anything. He had noticed, however, that the prisoner on the -other side had ceased to labor no matter, this was a -greater reason for proceeding if his neighbor would not -come to him, he would go to his neighbor. All day he toiled -on untiringly, and by the evening he had succeeded in -extracting ten handfuls of plaster and fragments of stone. -When the hour for his jailer's visit arrived, Dantes -straightened the handle of the saucepan as well as he could, -and placed it in its accustomed place. The turnkey poured -his ration of soup into it, together with the fish for -thrice a week the prisoners were deprived of meat. This -would have been a method of reckoning time, had not Dantes -long ceased to do so. Having poured out the soup, the -turnkey retired. Dantes wished to ascertain whether his -neighbor had really ceased to work. He listened all was -silent, as it had been for the last three days. Dantes -sighed it was evident that his neighbor distrusted him. -However, he toiled on all the night without being -discouraged but after two or three hours he encountered an -obstacle. The iron made no impression, but met with a smooth -surface Dantes touched it, and found that it was a beam. -This beam crossed, or rather blocked up, the hole Dantes had -made it was necessary, therefore, to dig above or under it. -The unhappy young man had not thought of this. "O my God, my -God" murmured he, "I have so earnestly prayed to you, that -I hoped my prayers had been heard. After having deprived me -of my liberty, after having deprived me of death, after -having recalled me to existence, my God, have pity on me, -and do not let me die in despair" -"Who talks of God and despair at the same time?" said a -voice that seemed to come from beneath the earth, and, -deadened by the distance, sounded hollow and sepulchral in -the young man's ears. Edmond's hair stood on end, and he -rose to his knees. -"Ah," said he, "I hear a human voice." Edmond had not heard -any one speak save his jailer for four or five years and a -jailer is no man to a prisoner he is a living door, a -barrier of flesh and blood adding strength to restraints of -oak and iron. -"In the name of heaven," cried Dantes, "speak again, though -the sound of your voice terrifies me. Who are you?" -"Who are you?" said the voice. -"An unhappy prisoner," replied Dantes, who made no -hesitation in answering. -"Of what country?" -"A Frenchman." -"Your name?" -"Edmond Dantes." -"Your profession?" -"A sailor." -"How long have you been here?" -"Since the th of February, ." -"Your crime?" -"I am innocent." -"But of what are you accused?" -"Of having conspired to aid the emperor's return." -"What For the emperor's return? the emperor is no longer -on the throne, then?" -"He abdicated at Fontainebleau in , and was sent to the -Island of Elba. But how long have you been here that you are -ignorant of all this?" -"Since ." -Dantes shuddered this man had been four years longer than -himself in prison. -"Do not dig any more," said the voice "only tell me how -high up is your excavation?" -"On a level with the floor." -"How is it concealed?" -"Behind my bed." -"Has your bed been moved since you have been a prisoner?" -"No." -"What does your chamber open on?" -"A corridor." -"And the corridor?" -"On a court." -"Alas" murmured the voice. -"Oh, what is the matter?" cried Dantes. -"I have made a mistake owing to an error in my plans. I took -the wrong angle, and have come out fifteen feet from where I -intended. I took the wall you are mining for the outer wall -of the fortress." -"But then you would be close to the sea?" -"That is what I hoped." -"And supposing you had succeeded?" -"I should have thrown myself into the sea, gained one of the -islands near here the Isle de Daume or the Isle de -Tiboulen and then I should have been safe." -"Could you have swum so far?" -"Heaven would have given me strength but now all is lost." -"All?" -"Yes stop up your excavation carefully, do not work any -more, and wait until you hear from me." -"Tell me, at least, who you are?" -"I am I am No. ." -"You mistrust me, then," said Dantes. Edmond fancied he -heard a bitter laugh resounding from the depths. -"Oh, I am a Christian," cried Dantes, guessing instinctively -that this man meant to abandon him. "I swear to you by him -who died for us that naught shall induce me to breathe one -syllable to my jailers but I conjure you do not abandon me. -If you do, I swear to you, for I have got to the end of my -strength, that I will dash my brains out against the wall, -and you will have my death to reproach yourself with." -"How old are you? Your voice is that of a young man." -"I do not know my age, for I have not counted the years I -have been here. All I do know is, that I was just nineteen -when I was arrested, the th of February, ." -"Not quite twentysix" murmured the voice "at that age he -cannot be a traitor." -"Oh, no, no," cried Dantes. "I swear to you again, rather -than betray you, I would allow myself to be hacked in -pieces" -"You have done well to speak to me, and ask for my -assistance, for I was about to form another plan, and leave -you but your age reassures me. I will not forget you. -Wait." -"How long?" -"I must calculate our chances I will give you the signal." -"But you will not leave me you will come to me, or you will -let me come to you. We will escape, and if we cannot escape -we will talk you of those whom you love, and I of those -whom I love. You must love somebody?" -"No, I am alone in the world." -"Then you will love me. If you are young, I will be your -comrade if you are old, I will be your son. I have a father -who is seventy if he yet lives I only love him and a young -girl called Mercedes. My father has not yet forgotten me, I -am sure, but God alone knows if she loves me still I shall -love you as I loved my father." -"It is well," returned the voice "tomorrow." -These few words were uttered with an accent that left no -doubt of his sincerity Dantes rose, dispersed the fragments -with the same precaution as before, and pushed his bed back -against the wall. He then gave himself up to his happiness. -He would no longer be alone. He was, perhaps, about to -regain his liberty at the worst, he would have a companion, -and captivity that is shared is but half captivity. Plaints -made in common are almost prayers, and prayers where two or -three are gathered together invoke the mercy of heaven. -All day Dantes walked up and down his cell. He sat down -occasionally on his bed, pressing his hand on his heart. At -the slightest noise he bounded towards the door. Once or -twice the thought crossed his mind that he might be -separated from this unknown, whom he loved already and then -his mind was made up when the jailer moved his bed and -stooped to examine the opening, he would kill him with his -water jug. He would be condemned to die, but he was about to -die of grief and despair when this miraculous noise recalled -him to life. -The jailer came in the evening. Dantes was on his bed. It -seemed to him that thus he better guarded the unfinished -opening. Doubtless there was a strange expression in his -eyes, for the jailer said, "Come, are you going mad again?" -Dantes did not answer he feared that the emotion of his -voice would betray him. The jailer went away shaking his -head. Night came Dantes hoped that his neighbor would -profit by the silence to address him, but he was mistaken. -The next morning, however, just as he removed his bed from -the wall, he heard three knocks he threw himself on his -knees. -"Is it you?" said he "I am here." -"Is your jailer gone?" -"Yes," said Dantes "he will not return until the evening -so that we have twelve hours before us." -"I can work, then?" said the voice. -"Oh, yes, yes this instant, I entreat you." -In a moment that part of the floor on which Dantes was -resting his two hands, as he knelt with his head in the -opening, suddenly gave way he drew back smartly, while a -mass of stones and earth disappeared in a hole that opened -beneath the aperture he himself had formed. Then from the -bottom of this passage, the depth of which it was impossible -to measure, he saw appear, first the head, then the -shoulders, and lastly the body of a man, who sprang lightly -into his cell. -Chapter -A Learned Italian. -Seizing in his arms the friend so long and ardently desired, -Dantes almost carried him towards the window, in order to -obtain a better view of his features by the aid of the -imperfect light that struggled through the grating. -He was a man of small stature, with hair blanched rather by -suffering and sorrow than by age. He had a deepset, -penetrating eye, almost buried beneath the thick gray -eyebrow, and a long and still black beard reaching down to -his breast. His thin face, deeply furrowed by care, and the -bold outline of his strongly marked features, betokened a -man more accustomed to exercise his mental faculties than -his physical strength. Large drops of perspiration were now -standing on his brow, while the garments that hung about him -were so ragged that one could only guess at the pattern upon -which they had originally been fashioned. -The stranger might have numbered sixty or sixtyfive years -but a certain briskness and appearance of vigor in his -movements made it probable that he was aged more from -captivity than the course of time. He received the -enthusiastic greeting of his young acquaintance with evident -pleasure, as though his chilled affections were rekindled -and invigorated by his contact with one so warm and ardent. -He thanked him with grateful cordiality for his kindly -welcome, although he must at that moment have been suffering -bitterly to find another dungeon where he had fondly -reckoned on discovering a means of regaining his liberty. -"Let us first see," said he, "whether it is possible to -remove the traces of my entrance here our future -tranquillity depends upon our jailers being entirely -ignorant of it." Advancing to the opening, he stooped and -raised the stone easily in spite of its weight then, -fitting it into its place, he said, -"You removed this stone very carelessly but I suppose you -had no tools to aid you." -"Why," exclaimed Dantes, with astonishment, "do you possess -any?" -"I made myself some and with the exception of a file, I -have all that are necessary, a chisel, pincers, and -lever." -"Oh, how I should like to see these products of your -industry and patience." -"Well, in the first place, here is my chisel." So saying, he -displayed a sharp strong blade, with a handle made of -beechwood. -"And with what did you contrive to make that?" inquired -Dantes. -"With one of the clamps of my bedstead and this very tool -has sufficed me to hollow out the road by which I came -hither, a distance of about fifty feet." -"Fifty feet" responded Dantes, almost terrified. -"Do not speak so loud, young man don't speak so loud. It -frequently occurs in a state prison like this, that persons -are stationed outside the doors of the cells purposely to -overhear the conversation of the prisoners." -"But they believe I am shut up alone here." -"That makes no difference." -"And you say that you dug your way a distance of fifty feet -to get here?" -"I do that is about the distance that separates your -chamber from mine only, unfortunately, I did not curve -aright for want of the necessary geometrical instruments to -calculate my scale of proportion, instead of taking an -ellipsis of forty feet, I made it fifty. I expected, as I -told you, to reach the outer wall, pierce through it, and -throw myself into the sea I have, however, kept along the -corridor on which your chamber opens, instead of going -beneath it. My labor is all in vain, for I find that the -corridor looks into a courtyard filled with soldiers." -"That's true," said Dantes "but the corridor you speak of -only bounds one side of my cell there are three others -do you know anything of their situation?" -"This one is built against the solid rock, and it would take -ten experienced miners, duly furnished with the requisite -tools, as many years to perforate it. This adjoins the lower -part of the governor's apartments, and were we to work our -way through, we should only get into some lockup cellars, -where we must necessarily be recaptured. The fourth and last -side of your cell faces on faces on stop a minute, now -where does it face?" -The wall of which he spoke was the one in which was fixed -the loophole by which light was admitted to the chamber. -This loophole, which gradually diminished in size as it -approached the outside, to an opening through which a child -could not have passed, was, for better security, furnished -with three iron bars, so as to quiet all apprehensions even -in the mind of the most suspicious jailer as to the -possibility of a prisoner's escape. As the stranger asked -the question, he dragged the table beneath the window. -"Climb up," said he to Dantes. The young man obeyed, mounted -on the table, and, divining the wishes of his companion, -placed his back securely against the wall and held out both -hands. The stranger, whom as yet Dantes knew only by the -number of his cell, sprang up with an agility by no means to -be expected in a person of his years, and, light and steady -on his feet as a cat or a lizard, climbed from the table to -the outstretched hands of Dantes, and from them to his -shoulders then, bending double, for the ceiling of the -dungeon prevented him from holding himself erect, he managed -to slip his head between the upper bars of the window, so as -to be able to command a perfect view from top to bottom. -An instant afterwards he hastily drew back his head, saying, -"I thought so" and sliding from the shoulders of Dantes as -dextrously as he had ascended, he nimbly leaped from the -table to the ground. -"What was it that you thought?" asked the young man -anxiously, in his turn descending from the table. -The elder prisoner pondered the matter. "Yes," said he at -length, "it is so. This side of your chamber looks out upon -a kind of open gallery, where patrols are continually -passing, and sentries keep watch day and night." -"Are you quite sure of that?" -"Certain. I saw the soldier's shape and the top of his -musket that made me draw in my head so quickly, for I was -fearful he might also see me." -"Well?" inquired Dantes. -"You perceive then the utter impossibility of escaping -through your dungeon?" -"Then," pursued the young man eagerly -"Then," answered the elder prisoner, "the will of God be -done" and as the old man slowly pronounced those words, an -air of profound resignation spread itself over his careworn -countenance. Dantes gazed on the man who could thus -philosophically resign hopes so long and ardently nourished -with an astonishment mingled with admiration. -"Tell me, I entreat of you, who and what you are?" said he -at length "never have I met with so remarkable a person as -yourself." -"Willingly," answered the stranger "if, indeed, you feel -any curiosity respecting one, now, alas, powerless to aid -you in any way." -"Say not so you can console and support me by the strength -of your own powerful mind. Pray let me know who you really -are?" -The stranger smiled a melancholy smile. "Then listen," said -he. "I am the Abbe Faria, and have been imprisoned as you -know in this Chateau d'If since the year previously to -which I had been confined for three years in the fortress of -Fenestrelle. In the year I was transferred to Piedmont -in France. It was at this period I learned that the destiny -which seemed subservient to every wish formed by Napoleon, -had bestowed on him a son, named king of Rome even in his -cradle. I was very far then from expecting the change you -have just informed me of namely, that four years -afterwards, this colossus of power would be overthrown. Then -who reigns in France at this moment Napoleon II.?" -"No, Louis XVIII." -"The brother of Louis XVII. How inscrutable are the ways of -providence for what great and mysterious purpose has it -pleased heaven to abase the man once so elevated, and raise -up him who was so abased?" -Dantes' whole attention was riveted on a man who could thus -forget his own misfortunes while occupying himself with the -destinies of others. -"Yes, yes," continued he, "'Twill be the same as it was in -England. After Charles I., Cromwell after Cromwell, Charles -II., and then James II., and then some soninlaw or -relation, some Prince of Orange, a stadtholder who becomes a -king. Then new concessions to the people, then a -constitution, then liberty. Ah, my friend" said the abbe, -turning towards Dantes, and surveying him with the kindling -gaze of a prophet, "you are young, you will see all this -come to pass." -"Probably, if ever I get out of prison" -"True," replied Faria, "we are prisoners but I forget this -sometimes, and there are even moments when my mental vision -transports me beyond these walls, and I fancy myself at -liberty." -"But wherefore are you here?" -"Because in I dreamed of the very plan Napoleon tried -to realize in because, like Machiavelli, I desired to -alter the political face of Italy, and instead of allowing -it to be split up into a quantity of petty principalities, -each held by some weak or tyrannical ruler, I sought to form -one large, compact, and powerful empire and, lastly, -because I fancied I had found my Caesar Borgia in a crowned -simpleton, who feigned to enter into my views only to betray -me. It was the plan of Alexander VI. and Clement VII., but -it will never succeed now, for they attempted it -fruitlessly, and Napoleon was unable to complete his work. -Italy seems fated to misfortune." And the old man bowed his -head. -Dantes could not understand a man risking his life for such -matters. Napoleon certainly he knew something of, inasmuch -as he had seen and spoken with him but of Clement VII. and -Alexander VI. he knew nothing. -"Are you not," he asked, "the priest who here in the Chateau -d'If is generally thought to be ill?" -"Mad, you mean, don't you?" -"I did not like to say so," answered Dantes, smiling. -"Well, then," resumed Faria with a bitter smile, "let me -answer your question in full, by acknowledging that I am the -poor mad prisoner of the Chateau d'If, for many years -permitted to amuse the different visitors with what is said -to be my insanity and, in all probability, I should be -promoted to the honor of making sport for the children, if -such innocent beings could be found in an abode devoted like -this to suffering and despair." -Dantes remained for a short time mute and motionless at -length he said, "Then you abandon all hope of escape?" -"I perceive its utter impossibility and I consider it -impious to attempt that which the Almighty evidently does -not approve." -"Nay, be not discouraged. Would it not be expecting too much -to hope to succeed at your first attempt? Why not try to -find an opening in another direction from that which has so -unfortunately failed?" -"Alas, it shows how little notion you can have of all it has -cost me to effect a purpose so unexpectedly frustrated, that -you talk of beginning over again. In the first place, I was -four years making the tools I possess, and have been two -years scraping and digging out earth, hard as granite -itself then what toil and fatigue has it not been to remove -huge stones I should once have deemed impossible to loosen. -Whole days have I passed in these Titanic efforts, -considering my labor well repaid if, by nighttime I had -contrived to carry away a square inch of this hardbound -cement, changed by ages into a substance unyielding as the -stones themselves then to conceal the mass of earth and -rubbish I dug up, I was compelled to break through a -staircase, and throw the fruits of my labor into the hollow -part of it but the well is now so completely choked up, -that I scarcely think it would be possible to add another -handful of dust without leading to discovery. Consider also -that I fully believed I had accomplished the end and aim of -my undertaking, for which I had so exactly husbanded my -strength as to make it just hold out to the termination of -my enterprise and now, at the moment when I reckoned upon -success, my hopes are forever dashed from me. No, I repeat -again, that nothing shall induce me to renew attempts -evidently at variance with the Almighty's pleasure." -Dantes held down his head, that the other might not see how -joy at the thought of having a companion outweighed the -sympathy he felt for the failure of the abbe's plans. -The abbe sank upon Edmond's bed, while Edmond himself -remained standing. Escape had never once occurred to him. -There are, indeed, some things which appear so impossible -that the mind does not dwell on them for an instant. To -undermine the ground for fifty feet to devote three years -to a labor which, if successful, would conduct you to a -precipice overhanging the sea to plunge into the waves -from the height of fifty, sixty, perhaps a hundred feet, at -the risk of being dashed to pieces against the rocks, should -you have been fortunate enough to have escaped the fire of -the sentinels and even, supposing all these perils past, -then to have to swim for your life a distance of at least -three miles ere you could reach the shore were -difficulties so startling and formidable that Dantes had -never even dreamed of such a scheme, resigning himself -rather to death. But the sight of an old man clinging to -life with so desperate a courage, gave a fresh turn to his -ideas, and inspired him with new courage. Another, older and -less strong than he, had attempted what he had not had -sufficient resolution to undertake, and had failed only -because of an error in calculation. This same person, with -almost incredible patience and perseverance, had contrived -to provide himself with tools requisite for so unparalleled -an attempt. Another had done all this why, then, was it -impossible to Dantes? Faria had dug his way through fifty -feet, Dantes would dig a hundred Faria, at the age of -fifty, had devoted three years to the task he, who was but -half as old, would sacrifice six Faria, a priest and -savant, had not shrunk from the idea of risking his life by -trying to swim a distance of three miles to one of the -islands Daume, Rattonneau, or Lemaire should a hardy -sailer, an experienced diver, like himself, shrink from a -similar task should he, who had so often for mere -amusement's sake plunged to the bottom of the sea to fetch -up the bright coral branch, hesitate to entertain the same -project? He could do it in an hour, and how many times had -he, for pure pastime, continued in the water for more than -twice as long At once Dantes resolved to follow the brave -example of his energetic companion, and to remember that -what has once been done may be done again. -After continuing some time in profound meditation, the young -man suddenly exclaimed, "I have found what you were in -search of" -Faria started "Have you, indeed?" cried he, raising his -head with quick anxiety "pray, let me know what it is you -have discovered?" -"The corridor through which you have bored your way from the -cell you occupy here, extends in the same direction as the -outer gallery, does it not?" -"It does." -"And is not above fifteen feet from it?" -"About that." -"Well, then, I will tell you what we must do. We must pierce -through the corridor by forming a side opening about the -middle, as it were the top part of a cross. This time you -will lay your plans more accurately we shall get out into -the gallery you have described kill the sentinel who guards -it, and make our escape. All we require to insure success is -courage, and that you possess, and strength, which I am not -deficient in as for patience, you have abundantly proved -yours you shall now see me prove mine." -"One instant, my dear friend," replied the abbe "it is -clear you do not understand the nature of the courage with -which I am endowed, and what use I intend making of my -strength. As for patience, I consider that I have abundantly -exercised that in beginning every morning the task of the -night before, and every night renewing the task of the day. -But then, young man and I pray of you to give me your full -attention, then I thought I could not be doing anything -displeasing to the Almighty in trying to set an innocent -being at liberty one who had committed no offence, and -merited not condemnation." -"And have your notions changed?" asked Dantes with much -surprise "do you think yourself more guilty in making the -attempt since you have encountered me?" -"No neither do I wish to incur guilt. Hitherto I have -fancied myself merely waging war against circumstances, not -men. I have thought it no sin to bore through a wall, or -destroy a staircase but I cannot so easily persuade myself -to pierce a heart or take away a life." A slight movement of -surprise escaped Dantes. -"Is it possible," said he, "that where your liberty is at -stake you can allow any such scruple to deter you from -obtaining it?" -"Tell me," replied Faria, "what has hindered you from -knocking down your jailer with a piece of wood torn from -your bedstead, dressing yourself in his clothes, and -endeavoring to escape?" -"Simply the fact that the idea never occurred to me," -answered Dantes. -"Because," said the old man, "the natural repugnance to the -commission of such a crime prevented you from thinking of -it and so it ever is because in simple and allowable things -our natural instincts keep us from deviating from the strict -line of duty. The tiger, whose nature teaches him to delight -in shedding blood, needs but the sense of smell to show him -when his prey is within his reach, and by following this -instinct he is enabled to measure the leap necessary to -permit him to spring on his victim but man, on the -contrary, loathes the idea of blood it is not alone that -the laws of social life inspire him with a shrinking dread -of taking life his natural construction and physiological -formation" -Dantes was confused and silent at this explanation of the -thoughts which had unconsciously been working in his mind, -or rather soul for there are two distinct sorts of ideas, -those that proceed from the head and those that emanate from -the heart. -"Since my imprisonment," said Faria, "I have thought over -all the most celebrated cases of escape on record. They have -rarely been successful. Those that have been crowned with -full success have been long meditated upon, and carefully -arranged such, for instance, as the escape of the Duc de -Beaufort from the Chateau de Vincennes, that of the Abbe -Dubuquoi from For l'Eveque of Latude from the Bastille. -Then there are those for which chance sometimes affords -opportunity, and those are the best of all. Let us, -therefore, wait patiently for some favorable moment, and -when it presents itself, profit by it." -"Ah," said Dantes, "you might well endure the tedious delay -you were constantly employed in the task you set yourself, -and when weary with toil, you had your hopes to refresh and -encourage you." -"I assure you," replied the old man, "I did not turn to that -source for recreation or support." -"What did you do then?" -"I wrote or studied." -"Were you then permitted the use of pens, ink, and paper?" -"Oh, no," answered the abbe "I had none but what I made for -myself." -"You made paper, pens and ink?" -"Yes." -Dantes gazed with admiration, but he had some difficulty in -believing. Faria saw this. -"When you pay me a visit in my cell, my young friend," said -he, "I will show you an entire work, the fruits of the -thoughts and reflections of my whole life many of them -meditated over in the shades of the Coloseum at Rome, at the -foot of St. Mark's column at Venice, and on the borders of -the Arno at Florence, little imagining at the time that they -would be arranged in order within the walls of the Chateau -d'If. The work I speak of is called "A Treatise on the -Possibility of a General Monarchy in Italy,' and will make -one large quarto volume." -"And on what have you written all this?" -"On two of my shirts. I invented a preparation that makes -linen as smooth and as easy to write on as parchment." -"You are, then, a chemist?" -"Somewhat I know Lavoisier, and was the intimate friend of -Cabanis." -"But for such a work you must have needed books had you -any?" -"I had nearly five thousand volumes in my library at Rome -but after reading them over many times, I found out that -with one hundred and fifty wellchosen books a man -possesses, if not a complete summary of all human knowledge, -at least all that a man need really know. I devoted three -years of my life to reading and studying these one hundred -and fifty volumes, till I knew them nearly by heart so that -since I have been in prison, a very slight effort of memory -has enabled me to recall their contents as readily as though -the pages were open before me. I could recite you the whole -of Thucydides, Xenophon, Plutarch, Titus Livius, Tacitus, -Strada, Jornandes, Dante, Montaigne, Shakespeare, Spinoza, -Machiavelli, and Bossuet. I name only the most important." -"You are, doubtless, acquainted with a variety of languages, -so as to have been able to read all these?" -"Yes, I speak five of the modern tongues that is to say, -German, French, Italian, English, and Spanish by the aid of -ancient Greek I learned modern Greek I don't speak it so -well as I could wish, but I am still trying to improve -myself." -"Improve yourself" repeated Dantes "why, how can you -manage to do so?" -"Why, I made a vocabulary of the words I knew turned, -returned, and arranged them, so as to enable me to express -my thoughts through their medium. I know nearly one thousand -words, which is all that is absolutely necessary, although I -believe there are nearly one hundred thousand in the -dictionaries. I cannot hope to be very fluent, but I -certainly should have no difficulty in explaining my wants -and wishes and that would be quite as much as I should ever -require." -Stronger grew the wonder of Dantes, who almost fancied he -had to do with one gifted with supernatural powers still -hoping to find some imperfection which might bring him down -to a level with human beings, he added, "Then if you were -not furnished with pens, how did you manage to write the -work you speak of?" -"I made myself some excellent ones, which would be -universally preferred to all others if once known. You are -aware what huge whitings are served to us on maigre days. -Well, I selected the cartilages of the heads of these -fishes, and you can scarcely imagine the delight with which -I welcomed the arrival of each Wednesday, Friday, and -Saturday, as affording me the means of increasing my stock -of pens for I will freely confess that my historical labors -have been my greatest solace and relief. While retracing the -past, I forget the present and traversing at will the path -of history I cease to remember that I am myself a prisoner." -"But the ink," said Dantes "of what did you make your ink?" -"There was formerly a fireplace in my dungeon," replied -Faria, "but it was closed up long ere I became an occupant -of this prison. Still, it must have been many years in use, -for it was thickly covered with a coating of soot this soot -I dissolved in a portion of the wine brought to me every -Sunday, and I assure you a better ink cannot be desired. For -very important notes, for which closer attention is -required, I pricked one of my fingers, and wrote with my own -blood." -"And when," asked Dantes, "may I see all this?" -"Whenever you please," replied the abbe. -"Oh, then let it be directly" exclaimed the young man. -"Follow me, then," said the abbe, as he reentered the -subterranean passage, in which he soon disappeared, followed -by Dantes. -Chapter -The Abbe's Chamber. -After having passed with tolerable ease through the -subterranean passage, which, however, did not admit of their -holding themselves erect, the two friends reached the -further end of the corridor, into which the abbe's cell -opened from that point the passage became much narrower, -and barely permitted one to creep through on hands and -knees. The floor of the abbe's cell was paved, and it had -been by raising one of the stones in the most obscure corner -that Faria had to been able to commence the laborious task -of which Dantes had witnessed the completion. -As he entered the chamber of his friend, Dantes cast around -one eager and searching glance in quest of the expected -marvels, but nothing more than common met his view. -"It is well," said the abbe "we have some hours before us -it is now just a quarter past twelve o'clock." -Instinctively Dantes turned round to observe by what watch -or clock the abbe had been able so accurately to specify the -hour. -"Look at this ray of light which enters by my window," said -the abbe, "and then observe the lines traced on the wall. -Well, by means of these lines, which are in accordance with -the double motion of the earth, and the ellipse it describes -round the sun, I am enabled to ascertain the precise hour -with more minuteness than if I possessed a watch for that -might be broken or deranged in its movements, while the sun -and earth never vary in their appointed paths." -This last explanation was wholly lost upon Dantes, who had -always imagined, from seeing the sun rise from behind the -mountains and set in the Mediterranean, that it moved, and -not the earth. A double movement of the globe he inhabited, -and of which he could feel nothing, appeared to him -perfectly impossible. Each word that fell from his -companion's lips seemed fraught with the mysteries of -science, as worthy of digging out as the gold and diamonds -in the mines of Guzerat and Golconda, which he could just -recollect having visited during a voyage made in his -earliest youth. -"Come," said he to the abbe, "I am anxious to see your -treasures." -The abbe smiled, and, proceeding to the disused fireplace, -raised, by the help of his chisel, a long stone, which had -doubtless been the hearth, beneath which was a cavity of -considerable depth, serving as a safe depository of the -articles mentioned to Dantes. -"What do you wish to see first?" asked the abbe. -"Oh, your great work on the monarchy of Italy" -Faria then drew forth from his hidingplace three or four -rolls of linen, laid one over the other, like folds of -papyrus. These rolls consisted of slips of cloth about four -inches wide and eighteen long they were all carefully -numbered and closely covered with writing, so legible that -Dantes could easily read it, as well as make out the sense -it being in Italian, a language he, as a Provencal, -perfectly understood. -"There," said he, "there is the work complete. I wrote the -word finis at the end of the sixtyeighth strip about a week -ago. I have torn up two of my shirts, and as many -handkerchiefs as I was master of, to complete the precious -pages. Should I ever get out of prison and find in all Italy -a printer courageous enough to publish what I have composed, -my literary reputation is forever secured." -"I see," answered Dantes. "Now let me behold the curious -pens with which you have written your work." -"Look" said Faria, showing to the young man a slender stick -about six inches long, and much resembling the size of the -handle of a fine paintingbrush, to the end of which was -tied, by a piece of thread, one of those cartilages of which -the abbe had before spoken to Dantes it was pointed, and -divided at the nib like an ordinary pen. Dantes examined it -with intense admiration, then looked around to see the -instrument with which it had been shaped so correctly into -form. -"Ah, yes," said Faria "the penknife. That's my masterpiece. -I made it, as well as this larger knife, out of an old iron -candlestick." The penknife was sharp and keen as a razor as -for the other knife, it would serve a double purpose, and -with it one could cut and thrust. -Dantes examined the various articles shown to him with the -same attention that he had bestowed on the curiosities and -strange tools exhibited in the shops at Marseilles as the -works of the savages in the South Seas from whence they had -been brought by the different trading vessels. -"As for the ink," said Faria, "I told you how I managed to -obtain that and I only just make it from time to time, as -I require it." -"One thing still puzzles me," observed Dantes, "and that is -how you managed to do all this by daylight?" -"I worked at night also," replied Faria. -"Night why, for heaven's sake, are your eyes like cats', -that you can see to work in the dark?" -"Indeed they are not but God his supplied man with the -intelligence that enables him to overcome the limitations of -natural conditions. I furnished myself with a light." -"You did? Pray tell me how." -"I separated the fat from the meat served to me, melted it, -and so made oil here is my lamp." So saying, the abbe -exhibited a sort of torch very similar to those used in -public illuminations. -"But light?" -"Here are two flints and a piece of burnt linen." -"And matches?" -"I pretended that I had a disorder of the skin, and asked -for a little sulphur, which was readily supplied." Dantes -laid the different things he had been looking at on the -table, and stood with his head drooping on his breast, as -though overwhelmed by the perseverance and strength of -Faria's mind. -"You have not seen all yet," continued Faria, "for I did not -think it wise to trust all my treasures in the same -hidingplace. Let us shut this one up." They put the stone -back in its place the abbe sprinkled a little dust over it -to conceal the traces of its having been removed, rubbed his -foot well on it to make it assume the same appearance as the -other, and then, going towards his bed, he removed it from -the spot it stood in. Behind the head of the bed, and -concealed by a stone fitting in so closely as to defy all -suspicion, was a hollow space, and in this space a ladder of -cords between twentyfive and thirty feet in length. Dantes -closely and eagerly examined it he found it firm, solid, -and compact enough to bear any weight. -"Who supplied you with the materials for making this -wonderful work?" -"I tore up several of my shirts, and ripped out the seams in -the sheets of my bed, during my three years' imprisonment at -Fenestrelle and when I was removed to the Chateau d'If, I -managed to bring the ravellings with me, so that I have been -able to finish my work here." -"And was it not discovered that your sheets were unhemmed?" -"Oh, no, for when I had taken out the thread I required, I -hemmed the edges over again." -"With what?" -"With this needle," said the abbe, as, opening his ragged -vestments, he showed Dantes a long, sharp fishbone, with a -small perforated eye for the thread, a small portion of -which still remained in it. "I once thought," continued -Faria, "of removing these iron bars, and letting myself down -from the window, which, as you see, is somewhat wider than -yours, although I should have enlarged it still more -preparatory to my flight however, I discovered that I -should merely have dropped into a sort of inner court, and I -therefore renounced the project altogether as too full of -risk and danger. Nevertheless, I carefully preserved my -ladder against one of those unforeseen opportunities of -which I spoke just now, and which sudden chance frequently -brings about." While affecting to be deeply engaged in -examining the ladder, the mind of Dantes was, in fact, -busily occupied by the idea that a person so intelligent, -ingenious, and clearsighted as the abbe might probably be -able to solve the dark mystery of his own misfortunes, where -he himself could see nothing. -"What are you thinking of?" asked the abbe smilingly, -imputing the deep abstraction in which his visitor was -plunged to the excess of his awe and wonder. -"I was reflecting, in the first place," replied Dantes, -"upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you -must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you -have attained. What would you not have accomplished if you -had been free?" -"Possibly nothing at all the overflow of my brain would -probably, in a state of freedom, have evaporated in a -thousand follies misfortune is needed to bring to light the -treasures of the human intellect. Compression is needed to -explode gunpowder. Captivity has brought my mental faculties -to a focus and you are well aware that from the collision -of clouds electricity is produced from electricity, -lightning, from lightning, illumination." -"No," replied Dantes. "I know nothing. Some of your words -are to me quite empty of meaning. You must be blessed indeed -to possess the knowledge you have." -The abbe smiled. "Well," said he, "but you had another -subject for your thoughts did you not say so just now?" -"I did" -"You have told me as yet but one of them let me hear the -other." -"It was this, that while you had related to me all the -particulars of your past life, you were perfectly -unacquainted with mine." -"Your life, my young friend, has not been of sufficient -length to admit of your having passed through any very -important events." -"It has been long enough to inflict on me a great and -undeserved misfortune. I would fain fix the source of it on -man that I may no longer vent reproaches upon heaven." -"Then you profess ignorance of the crime with which you are -charged?" -"I do, indeed and this I swear by the two beings most dear -to me upon earth, my father and Mercedes." -"Come," said the abbe, closing his hidingplace, and pushing -the bed back to its original situation, "let me hear your -story." -Dantes obeyed, and commenced what he called his history, but -which consisted only of the account of a voyage to India, -and two or three voyages to the Levant until he arrived at -the recital of his last cruise, with the death of Captain -Leclere, and the receipt of a packet to be delivered by -himself to the grand marshal his interview with that -personage, and his receiving, in place of the packet -brought, a letter addressed to a Monsieur Noirtier his -arrival at Marseilles, and interview with his father his -affection for Mercedes, and their nuptual feast his -arrest and subsequent examination, his temporary detention -at the Palais de Justice, and his final imprisonment in the -Chateau d'If. From this point everything was a blank to -Dantes he knew nothing more, not even the length of time -he had been imprisoned. His recital finished, the abbe -reflected long and earnestly. -"There is," said he, at the end of his meditations, "a -clever maxim, which bears upon what I was saying to you some -little while ago, and that is, that unless wicked ideas take -root in a naturally depraved mind, human nature, in a right -and wholesome state, revolts at crime. Still, from an -artificial civilization have originated wants, vices, and -false tastes, which occasionally become so powerful as to -stifle within us all good feelings, and ultimately to lead -us into guilt and wickedness. From this view of things, -then, comes the axiom that if you visit to discover the -author of any bad action, seek first to discover the person -to whom the perpetration of that bad action could be in any -way advantageous. Now, to apply it in your case, to whom -could your disappearance have been serviceable?" -"To no one, by heaven I was a very insignificant person." -"Do not speak thus, for your reply evinces neither logic nor -philosophy everything is relative, my dear young friend, -from the king who stands in the way of his successor, to the -employee who keeps his rival out of a place. Now, in the -event of the king's death, his successor inherits a crown, -when the employee dies, the supernumerary steps into his -shoes, and receives his salary of twelve thousand livres. -Well, these twelve thousand livres are his civil list, and -are as essential to him as the twelve millions of a king. -Every one, from the highest to the lowest degree, has his -place on the social ladder, and is beset by stormy passions -and conflicting interests, as in Descartes' theory of -pressure and impulsion. But these forces increase as we go -higher, so that we have a spiral which in defiance of reason -rests upon the apex and not on the base. Now let us return -to your particular world. You say you were on the point of -being made captain of the Pharaon?" -"Yes." -"And about to become the husband of a young and lovely -girl?" -"Yes." -"Now, could any one have had any interest in preventing the -accomplishment of these two things? But let us first settle -the question as to its being the interest of any one to -hinder you from being captain of the Pharaon. What say you?" -"I cannot believe such was the case. I was generally liked -on board, and had the sailors possessed the right of -selecting a captain themselves, I feel convinced their -choice would have fallen on me. There was only one person -among the crew who had any feeling of illwill towards me. I -had quarelled with him some time previously, and had even -challenged him to fight me but he refused." -"Now we are getting on. And what was this man's name?" -"Danglars." -"What rank did he hold on board?" -"He was supercargo." -"And had you been captain, should you have retained him in -his employment?" -"Not if the choice had remained with me, for I had -frequently observed inaccuracies in his accounts." -"Good again Now then, tell me, was any person present -during your last conversation with Captain Leclere?" -"No we were quite alone." -"Could your conversation have been overheard by any one?" -"It might, for the cabin door was open and stay now I -recollect, Danglars himself passed by just as Captain -Leclere was giving me the packet for the grand marshal." -"That's better," cried the abbe "now we are on the right -scent. Did you take anybody with you when you put into the -port of Elba?" -"Nobody." -"Somebody there received your packet, and gave you a letter -in place of it, I think?" -"Yes the grand marshal did." -"And what did you do with that letter?" -"Put it into my portfolio." -"You had your portfolio with you, then? Now, how could a -sailor find room in his pocket for a portfolio large enough -to contain an official letter?" -"You are right it was left on board." -"Then it was not till your return to the ship that you put -the letter in the portfolio?" -"No." -"And what did you do with this same letter while returning -from PortoFerrajo to the vessel?" -"I carried it in my hand." -"So that when you went on board the Pharaon, everybody could -see that you held a letter in your hand?" -"Yes." -"Danglars, as well as the rest?" -"Danglars, as well as others." -"Now, listen to me, and try to recall every circumstance -attending your arrest. Do you recollect the words in which -the information against you was formulated?" -"Oh yes, I read it over three times, and the words sank -deeply into my memory." -"Repeat it to me." -Dantes paused a moment, then said, "This is it, word for -word "The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the -throne and religion, that one Edmond Dantes, mate on board -the Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after having -touched at Naples and PortoFerrajo, has been intrusted by -Murat with a packet for the usurper again, by the usurper, -with a letter for the Bonapartist Club in Paris. This proof -of his guilt may be procured by his immediate arrest, as the -letter will be found either about his person, at his -father's residence, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon.'" -The abbe shrugged his shoulders. "The thing is clear as -day," said he "and you must have had a very confiding -nature, as well as a good heart, not to have suspected the -origin of the whole affair." -"Do you really think so? Ah, that would indeed be infamous." -"How did Danglars usually write?" -"In a handsome, running hand." -"And how was the anonymous letter written?" -"Backhanded." Again the abbe smiled. "Disguised." -"It was very boldly written, if disguised." -"Stop a bit," said the abbe, taking up what he called his -pen, and, after dipping it into the ink, he wrote on a piece -of prepared linen, with his left hand, the first two or -three words of the accusation. Dantes drew back, and gazed -on the abbe with a sensation almost amounting to terror. -"How very astonishing" cried he at length. "Why your -writing exactly resembles that of the accusation." -"Simply because that accusation had been written with the -left hand and I have noticed that" -"What?" -"That while the writing of different persons done with the -right hand varies, that performed with the left hand is -invariably uniform." -"You have evidently seen and observed everything." -"Let us proceed." -"Oh, yes, yes" -"Now as regards the second question." -"I am listening." -"Was there any person whose interest it was to prevent your -marriage with Mercedes?" -"Yes a young man who loved her." -"And his name was" -"Fernand." -"That is a Spanish name, I think?" -"He was a Catalan." -"You imagine him capable of writing the letter?" -"Oh, no he would more likely have got rid of me by sticking -a knife into me." -"That is in strict accordance with the Spanish character an -assassination they will unhesitatingly commit, but an act of -cowardice, never." -"Besides," said Dantes, "the various circumstances mentioned -in the letter were wholly unknown to him." -"You had never spoken of them yourself to any one?" -"To no one." -"Not even to your mistress?" -"No, not even to my betrothed." -"Then it is Danglars." -"I feel quite sure of it now." -"Wait a little. Pray, was Danglars acquainted with Fernand?" -"No yes, he was. Now I recollect" -"What?" -"To have seen them both sitting at table together under an -arbor at Pere Pamphile's the evening before the day fixed -for my wedding. They were in earnest conversation. Danglars -was joking in a friendly way, but Fernand looked pale and -agitated." -"Were they alone?" -"There was a third person with them whom I knew perfectly -well, and who had, in all probability made their -acquaintance he was a tailor named Caderousse, but he was -very drunk. Stay stay How strange that it should not -have occurred to me before Now I remember quite well, that -on the table round which they were sitting were pens, ink, -and paper. Oh, the heartless, treacherous scoundrels" -exclaimed Dantes, pressing his hand to his throbbing brows. -"Is there anything else I can assist you in discovering, -besides the villany of your friends?" inquired the abbe with -a laugh. -"Yes, yes," replied Dantes eagerly "I would beg of you, who -see so completely to the depths of things, and to whom the -greatest mystery seems but an easy riddle, to explain to me -how it was that I underwent no second examination, was never -brought to trial, and, above all, was condemned without ever -having had sentence passed on me?" -"That is altogether a different and more serious matter," -responded the abbe. "The ways of justice are frequently too -dark and mysterious to be easily penetrated. All we have -hitherto done in the matter has been child's play. If you -wish me to enter upon the more difficult part of the -business, you must assist me by the most minute information -on every point." -"Pray ask me whatever questions you please for, in good -truth, you see more clearly into my life than I do myself." -"In the first place, then, who examined you, the king's -attorney, his deputy, or a magistrate?" -"The deputy." -"Was he young or old?" -"About six or seven and twenty years of age, I should say." -"So," answered the abbe. "Old enough to be ambitions, but -too young to be corrupt. And how did he treat you?" -"With more of mildness than severity." -"Did you tell him your whole story?" -"I did." -"And did his conduct change at all in the course of your -examination?" -"He did appear much disturbed when he read the letter that -had brought me into this scrape. He seemed quite overcome by -my misfortune." -"By your misfortune?" -"Yes." -"Then you feel quite sure that it was your misfortune he -deplored?" -"He gave me one great proof of his sympathy, at any rate." -"And that?" -"He burnt the sole evidence that could at all have -criminated me." -"What? the accusation?" -"No the letter." -"Are you sure?" -"I saw it done." -"That alters the case. This man might, after all, be a -greater scoundrel than you have thought possible." -"Upon my word," said Dantes, "you make me shudder. Is the -world filled with tigers and crocodiles?" -"Yes and remember that twolegged tigers and crocodiles are -more dangerous than the others." -"Never mind let us go on." -"With all my heart You tell me he burned the letter?" -"He did saying at the same time, "You see I thus destroy -the only proof existing against you.'" -"This action is somewhat too sublime to be natural." -"You think so?" -"I am sure of it. To whom was this letter addressed?" -"To M. Noirtier, No. CoqHeron, Paris." -"Now can you conceive of any interest that your heroic -deputy could possibly have had in the destruction of that -letter?" -"Why, it is not altogether impossible he might have had, for -he made me promise several times never to speak of that -letter to any one, assuring me he so advised me for my own -interest and, more than this, he insisted on my taking a -solemn oath never to utter the name mentioned in the -address." -"Noirtier" repeated the abbe "Noirtier I knew a person -of that name at the court of the Queen of Etruria, a -Noirtier, who had been a Girondin during the Revolution -What was your deputy called?" -"De Villefort" The abbe burst into a fit of laughter, while -Dantes gazed on him in utter astonishment. -"What ails you?" said he at length. -"Do you see that ray of sunlight?" -"I do." -"Well, the whole thing is more clear to me than that sunbeam -is to you. Poor fellow poor young man And you tell me this -magistrate expressed great sympathy and commiseration for -you?" -"He did." -"And the worthy man destroyed your compromising letter?" -"Yes." -"And then made you swear never to utter the name of -Noirtier?" -"Yes." -"Why, you poor shortsighted simpleton, can you not guess -who this Noirtier was, whose very name he was so careful to -keep concealed? Noirtier was his father." -Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Dantes, or hell -opened its yawning gulf before him, he could not have been -more completely transfixed with horror than he was at the -sound of these unexpected words. Starting up, he clasped his -hands around his head as though to prevent his very brain -from bursting, and exclaimed, "His father his father" -"Yes, his father," replied the abbe "his right name was -Noirtier de Villefort." At this instant a bright light shot -through the mind of Dantes, and cleared up all that had been -dark and obscure before. The change that had come over -Villefort during the examination, the destruction of the -letter, the exacted promise, the almost supplicating tones -of the magistrate, who seemed rather to implore mercy than -to pronounce punishment, all returned with a stunning -force to his memory. He cried out, and staggered against the -wall like a drunken man, then he hurried to the opening that -led from the abbe's cell to his own, and said, "I must be -alone, to think over all this." -When he regained his dungeon, he threw himself on his bed, -where the turnkey found him in the evening visit, sitting -with fixed gaze and contracted features, dumb and motionless -as a statue. During these hours of profound meditation, -which to him had seemed only minutes, he had formed a -fearful resolution, and bound himself to its fulfilment by a -solemn oath. -Dantes was at length roused from his revery by the voice of -Faria, who, having also been visited by his jailer, had come -to invite his fellowsufferer to share his supper. The -reputation of being out of his mind, though harmlessly and -even amusingly so, had procured for the abbe unusual -privileges. He was supplied with bread of a finer, whiter -quality than the usual prison fare, and even regaled each -Sunday with a small quantity of wine. Now this was a Sunday, -and the abbe had come to ask his young companion to share -the luxuries with him. Dantes followed his features were no -longer contracted, and now wore their usual expression, but -there was that in his whole appearance that bespoke one who -had come to a fixed and desperate resolve. Faria bent on him -his penetrating eye "I regret now," said he, "having helped -you in your late inquiries, or having given you the -information I did." -"Why so?" inquired Dantes. -"Because it has instilled a new passion in your heart -that of vengeance." -Dantes smiled. "Let us talk of something else," said he. -Again the abbe looked at him, then mournfully shook his -head but in accordance with Dantes' request, he began to -speak of other matters. The elder prisoner was one of those -persons whose conversation, like that of all who have -experienced many trials, contained many useful and important -hints as well as sound information but it was never -egotistical, for the unfortunate man never alluded to his -own sorrows. Dantes listened with admiring attention to all -he said some of his remarks corresponded with what he -already knew, or applied to the sort of knowledge his -nautical life had enabled him to acquire. A part of the good -abbe's words, however, were wholly incomprehensible to him -but, like the aurora which guides the navigator in northern -latitudes, opened new vistas to the inquiring mind of the -listener, and gave fantastic glimpses of new horizons, -enabling him justly to estimate the delight an intellectual -mind would have in following one so richly gifted as Faria -along the heights of truth, where he was so much at home. -"You must teach me a small part of what you know," said -Dantes, "if only to prevent your growing weary of me. I can -well believe that so learned a person as yourself would -prefer absolute solitude to being tormented with the company -of one as ignorant and uninformed as myself. If you will -only agree to my request, I promise you never to mention -another word about escaping." The abbe smiled. "Alas, my -boy," said he, "human knowledge is confined within very -narrow limits and when I have taught you mathematics, -physics, history, and the three or four modern languages -with which I am acquainted, you will know as much as I do -myself. Now, it will scarcely require two years for me to -communicate to you the stock of learning I possess." -"Two years" exclaimed Dantes "do you really believe I can -acquire all these things in so short a time?" -"Not their application, certainly, but their principles you -may to learn is not to know there are the learners and the -learned. Memory makes the one, philosophy the other." -"But cannot one learn philosophy?" -"Philosophy cannot be taught it is the application of the -sciences to truth it is like the golden cloud in which the -Messiah went up into heaven." -"Well, then," said Dantes, "What shall you teach me first? I -am in a hurry to begin. I want to learn." -"Everything," said the abbe. And that very evening the -prisoners sketched a plan of education, to be entered upon -the following day. Dantes possessed a prodigious memory, -combined with an astonishing quickness and readiness of -conception the mathematical turn of his mind rendered him -apt at all kinds of calculation, while his naturally -poetical feelings threw a light and pleasing veil over the -dry reality of arithmetical computation, or the rigid -severity of geometry. He already knew Italian, and had also -picked up a little of the Romaic dialect during voyages to -the East and by the aid of these two languages he easily -comprehended the construction of all the others, so that at -the end of six months he began to speak Spanish, English, -and German. In strict accordance with the promise made to -the abbe, Dantes spoke no more of escape. Perhaps the -delight his studies afforded him left no room for such -thoughts perhaps the recollection that he had pledged his -word on which his sense of honor was keen kept him from -referring in any way to the possibilities of flight. Days, -even months, passed by unheeded in one rapid and instructive -course. At the end of a year Dantes was a new man. Dantes -observed, however, that Faria, in spite of the relief his -society afforded, daily grew sadder one thought seemed -incessantly to harass and distract his mind. Sometimes he -would fall into long reveries, sigh heavily and -involuntarily, then suddenly rise, and, with folded arms, -begin pacing the confined space of his dungeon. One day he -stopped all at once, and exclaimed, "Ah, if there were no -sentinel" -"There shall not be one a minute longer than you please," -said Dantes, who had followed the working of his thoughts as -accurately as though his brain were enclosed in crystal so -clear as to display its minutest operations. -"I have already told you," answered the abbe, "that I loathe -the idea of shedding blood." -"And yet the murder, if you choose to call it so, would be -simply a measure of selfpreservation." -"No matter I could never agree to it." -"Still, you have thought of it?" -"Incessantly, alas" cried the abbe. -"And you have discovered a means of regaining our freedom, -have you not?" asked Dantes eagerly. -"I have if it were only possible to place a deaf and blind -sentinel in the gallery beyond us." -"He shall be both blind and deaf," replied the young man, -with an air of determination that made his companion -shudder. -"No, no," cried the abbe "impossible" Dantes endeavored to -renew the subject the abbe shook his head in token of -disapproval, and refused to make any further response. Three -months passed away. -"Are you strong?" the abbe asked one day of Dantes. The -young man, in reply, took up the chisel, bent it into the -form of a horseshoe, and then as readily straightened it. -"And will you engage not to do any harm to the sentry, -except as a last resort?" -"I promise on my honor." -"Then," said the abbe, "we may hope to put our design into -execution." -"And how long shall we be in accomplishing the necessary -work?" -"At least a year." -"And shall we begin at once?" -"At once." -"We have lost a year to no purpose" cried Dantes. -"Do you consider the last twelve months to have been -wasted?" asked the abbe. -"Forgive me" cried Edmond, blushing deeply. -"Tut, tut" answered the abbe, "man is but man after all, -and you are about the best specimen of the genus I have ever -known. Come, let me show you my plan." The abbe then showed -Dantes the sketch he had made for their escape. It consisted -of a plan of his own cell and that of Dantes, with the -passage which united them. In this passage he proposed to -drive a level as they do in mines this level would bring -the two prisoners immediately beneath the gallery where the -sentry kept watch once there, a large excavation would be -made, and one of the flagstones with which the gallery was -paved be so completely loosened that at the desired moment -it would give way beneath the feet of the soldier, who, -stunned by his fall, would be immediately bound and gagged -by Dantes before he had power to offer any resistance. The -prisoners were then to make their way through one of the -gallery windows, and to let themselves down from the outer -walls by means of the abbe's ladder of cords. Dantes' eyes -sparkled with joy, and he rubbed his hands with delight at -the idea of a plan so simple, yet apparently so certain to -succeed. -That very day the miners began their labors, with a vigor -and alacrity proportionate to their long rest from fatigue -and their hopes of ultimate success. Nothing interrupted the -progress of the work except the necessity that each was -under of returning to his cell in anticipation of the -turnkey's visits. They had learned to distinguish the almost -imperceptible sound of his footsteps as he descended towards -their dungeons, and happily, never failed of being prepared -for his coming. The fresh earth excavated during their -present work, and which would have entirely blocked up the -old passage, was thrown, by degrees and with the utmost -precaution, out of the window in either Faria's or Dantes' -cell, the rubbish being first pulverized so finely that the -night wind carried it far away without permitting the -smallest trace to remain. More than a year had been consumed -in this undertaking, the only tools for which had been a -chisel, a knife, and a wooden lever Faria still continuing -to instruct Dantes by conversing with him, sometimes in one -language, sometimes in another at others, relating to him -the history of nations and great men who from time to time -have risen to fame and trodden the path of glory. -The abbe was a man of the world, and had, moreover, mixed in -the first society of the day he wore an air of melancholy -dignity which Dantes, thanks to the imitative powers -bestowed on him by nature, easily acquired, as well as that -outward polish and politeness he had before been wanting in, -and which is seldom possessed except by those who have been -placed in constant intercourse with persons of high birth -and breeding. At the end of fifteen months the level was -finished, and the excavation completed beneath the gallery, -and the two workmen could distinctly hear the measured tread -of the sentinel as he paced to and fro over their heads. -Compelled, as they were, to await a night sufficiently dark -to favor their flight, they were obliged to defer their -final attempt till that auspicious moment should arrive -their greatest dread now was lest the stone through which -the sentry was doomed to fall should give way before its -right time, and this they had in some measure provided -against by propping it up with a small beam which they had -discovered in the walls through which they had worked their -way. Dantes was occupied in arranging this piece of wood -when he heard Faria, who had remained in Edmond's cell for -the purpose of cutting a peg to secure their ropeladder, -call to him in a tone indicative of great suffering. Dantes -hastened to his dungeon, where he found him standing in the -middle of the room, pale as death, his forehead streaming -with perspiration, and his hands clinched tightly together. -"Gracious heavens" exclaimed Dantes, "what is the matter? -what has happened?" -"Quick quick" returned the abbe, "listen to what I have to -say." Dantes looked in fear and wonder at the livid -countenance of Faria, whose eyes, already dull and sunken, -were surrounded by purple circles, while his lips were white -as those of a corpse, and his very hair seemed to stand on -end. -"Tell me, I beseech you, what ails you?" cried Dantes, -letting his chisel fall to the floor. -"Alas," faltered out the abbe, "all is over with me. I am -seized with a terrible, perhaps mortal illness I can feel -that the paroxysm is fast approaching. I had a similar -attack the year previous to my imprisonment. This malady -admits but of one remedy I will tell you what that is. Go -into my cell as quickly as you can draw out one of the feet -that support the bed you will find it has been hollowed out -for the purpose of containing a small phial you will see -there halffilled with a redlooking fluid. Bring it to me -or rather no, no I may be found here, therefore -help me back to my room while I have the strength to drag -myself along. Who knows what may happen, or how long the -attack may last?" -In spite of the magnitude of the misfortune which thus -suddenly frustrated his hopes, Dantes did not lose his -presence of mind, but descended into the passage, dragging -his unfortunate companion with him then, halfcarrying, -halfsupporting him, he managed to reach the abbe's chamber, -when he immediately laid the sufferer on his bed. -"Thanks," said the poor abbe, shivering as though his veins -were filled with ice. "I am about to be seized with a fit of -catalepsy when it comes to its height I shall probably lie -still and motionless as though dead, uttering neither sigh -nor groan. On the other hand, the symptoms may be much more -violent, and cause me to fall into fearful convulsions, foam -at the mouth, and cry out loudly. Take care my cries are not -heard, for if they are it is more than probable I should be -removed to another part of the prison, and we be separated -forever. When I become quite motionless, cold, and rigid as -a corpse, then, and not before, be careful about this, -force open my teeth with the knife, pour from eight to ten -drops of the liquor contained in the phial down my throat, -and I may perhaps revive." -"Perhaps" exclaimed Dantes in griefstricken tones. -"Help help" cried the abbe, "I I die I" -So sudden and violent was the fit that the unfortunate -prisoner was unable to complete the sentence a violent -convulsion shook his whole frame, his eyes started from -their sockets, his mouth was drawn on one side, his cheeks -became purple, he struggled, foamed, dashed himself about, -and uttered the most dreadful cries, which, however, Dantes -prevented from being heard by covering his head with the -blanket. The fit lasted two hours then, more helpless than -an infant, and colder and paler than marble, more crushed -and broken than a reed trampled under foot, he fell back, -doubled up in one last convulsion, and became as rigid as a -corpse. -Edmond waited till life seemed extinct in the body of his -friend, then, taking up the knife, he with difficulty forced -open the closely fixed jaws, carefully administered the -appointed number of drops, and anxiously awaited the result. -An hour passed away and the old man gave no sign of -returning animation. Dantes began to fear he had delayed too -long ere he administered the remedy, and, thrusting his -hands into his hair, continued gazing on the lifeless -features of his friend. At length a slight color tinged the -livid cheeks, consciousness returned to the dull, open -eyeballs, a faint sigh issued from the lips, and the -sufferer made a feeble effort to move. -"He is saved he is saved" cried Dantes in a paroxysm of -delight. -The sick man was not yet able to speak, but he pointed with -evident anxiety towards the door. Dantes listened, and -plainly distinguished the approaching steps of the jailer. -It was therefore near seven o'clock but Edmond's anxiety -had put all thoughts of time out of his head. The young man -sprang to the entrance, darted through it, carefully drawing -the stone over the opening, and hurried to his cell. He had -scarcely done so before the door opened, and the jailer saw -the prisoner seated as usual on the side of his bed. Almost -before the key had turned in the lock, and before the -departing steps of the jailer had died away in the long -corridor he had to traverse, Dantes, whose restless anxiety -concerning his friend left him no desire to touch the food -brought him, hurried back to the abbe's chamber, and raising -the stone by pressing his head against it, was soon beside -the sick man's couch. Faria had now fully regained his -consciousness, but he still lay helpless and exhausted. -"I did not expect to see you again," said he feebly, to -Dantes. -"And why not?" asked the young man. "Did you fancy yourself -dying?" -"No, I had no such idea but, knowing that all was ready for -flight, I thought you might have made your escape." The deep -glow of indignation suffused the cheeks of Dantes. -"Without you? Did you really think me capable of that?" -"At least," said the abbe, "I now see how wrong such an -opinion would have been. Alas, alas I am fearfully -exhausted and debilitated by this attack." -"Be of good cheer," replied Dantes "your strength will -return." And as he spoke he seated himself near the bed -beside Faria, and took his hands. The abbe shook his head. -"The last attack I had," said he, "lasted but half an hour, -and after it I was hungry, and got up without help now I -can move neither my right arm nor leg, and my head seems -uncomfortable, which shows that there has been a suffusion -of blood on the brain. The third attack will either carry me -off, or leave me paralyzed for life." -"No, no," cried Dantes "you are mistaken you will not -die And your third attack if, indeed, you should have -another will find you at liberty. We shall save you another -time, as we have done this, only with a better chance of -success, because we shall be able to command every requisite -assistance." -"My good Edmond," answered the abbe, "be not deceived. The -attack which has just passed away, condemns me forever to -the walls of a prison. None can fly from a dungeon who -cannot walk." -"Well, we will wait, a week, a month, two months, if need -be, and meanwhile your strength will return. Everything -is in readiness for our flight, and we can select any time -we choose. As soon as you feel able to swim we will go." -"I shall never swim again," replied Faria. "This arm is -paralyzed not for a time, but forever. Lift it, and judge -if I am mistaken." The young man raised the arm, which fell -back by its own weight, perfectly inanimate and helpless. A -sigh escaped him. -"You are convinced now, Edmond, are you not?" asked the -abbe. "Depend upon it, I know what I say. Since the first -attack I experienced of this malady, I have continually -reflected on it. Indeed, I expected it, for it is a family -inheritance both my father and grandfather died of it in a -third attack. The physician who prepared for me the remedy I -have twice successfully taken, was no other than the -celebrated Cabanis, and he predicted a similar end for me." -"The physician may be mistaken" exclaimed Dantes. "And as -for your poor arm, what difference will that make? I can -take you on my shoulders, and swim for both of us." -"My son," said the abbe, "you, who are a sailor and a -swimmer, must know as well as I do that a man so loaded -would sink before he had done fifty strokes. Cease, then, to -allow yourself to be duped by vain hopes, that even your own -excellent heart refuses to believe in. Here I shall remain -till the hour of my deliverance arrives, and that, in all -human probability, will be the hour of my death. As for you, -who are young and active, delay not on my account, but fly -goI give you back your promise." -"It is well," said Dantes. "Then I shall also remain." Then, -rising and extending his hand with an air of solemnity over -the old man's head, he slowly added, "By the blood of Christ -I swear never to leave you while you live." -Faria gazed fondly on his nobleminded, singlehearted, -highprincipled young friend, and read in his countenance -ample confirmation of the sincerity of his devotion and the -loyalty of his purpose. -"Thanks," murmured the invalid, extending one hand. "I -accept. You may one of these days reap the reward of your -disinterested devotion. But as I cannot, and you will not, -quit this place, it becomes necessary to fill up the -excavation beneath the soldier's gallery he might, by -chance, hear the hollow sound of his footsteps, and call the -attention of his officer to the circumstance. That would -bring about a discovery which would inevitably lead to our -being separated. Go, then, and set about this work, in -which, unhappily, I can offer you no assistance keep at it -all night, if necessary, and do not return here tomorrow -till after the jailer his visited me. I shall have something -of the greatest importance to communicate to you." -Dantes took the hand of the abbe in his, and affectionately -pressed it. Faria smiled encouragingly on him, and the young -man retired to his task, in the spirit of obedience and -respect which he had sworn to show towards his aged friend. -Chapter -The Treasure. -When Dantes returned next morning to the chamber of his -companion in captivity, he found Faria seated and looking -composed. In the ray of light which entered by the narrow -window of his cell, he held open in his left hand, of which -alone, it will be recollected, he retained the use, a sheet -of paper, which, from being constantly rolled into a small -compass, had the form of a cylinder, and was not easily kept -open. He did not speak, but showed the paper to Dantes. -"What is that?" he inquired. -"Look at it," said the abbe with a smile. -"I have looked at it with all possible attention," said -Dantes, "and I only see a halfburnt paper, on which are -traces of Gothic characters inscribed with a peculiar kind -of ink." -"This paper, my friend," said Faria, "I may now avow to you, -since I have the proof of your fidelity this paper is my -treasure, of which, from this day forth, onehalf belongs to -you." -The sweat started forth on Dantes brow. Until this day and -for how long a time he had refrained from talking of the -treasure, which had brought upon the abbe the accusation of -madness. With his instinctive delicacy Edmond had preferred -avoiding any touch on this painful chord, and Faria had been -equally silent. He had taken the silence of the old man for -a return to reason and now these few words uttered by -Faria, after so painful a crisis, seemed to indicate a -serious relapse into mental alienation. -"Your treasure?" stammered Dantes. Faria smiled. -"Yes," said he. "You have, indeed, a noble nature, Edmond, -and I see by your paleness and agitation what is passing in -your heart at this moment. No, be assured, I am not mad. -This treasure exists, Dantes, and if I have not been allowed -to possess it, you will. Yes you. No one would listen or -believe me, because everyone thought me mad but you, who -must know that I am not, listen to me, and believe me so -afterwards if you will." -"Alas," murmured Edmond to himself, "this is a terrible -relapse There was only this blow wanting." Then he said -aloud, "My dear friend, your attack has, perhaps, fatigued -you had you not better repose awhile? Tomorrow, if you -will, I will hear your narrative but today I wish to nurse -you carefully. Besides," he said, "a treasure is not a thing -we need hurry about." -"On the contrary, it is a matter of the utmost importance, -Edmond" replied the old man. "Who knows if tomorrow, or -the next day after, the third attack may not come on? and -then must not all be over? Yes, indeed, I have often thought -with a bitter joy that these riches, which would make the -wealth of a dozen families, will be forever lost to those -men who persecute me. This idea was one of vengeance to me, -and I tasted it slowly in the night of my dungeon and the -despair of my captivity. But now I have forgiven the world -for the love of you now that I see you, young and with a -promising future, now that I think of all that may result -to you in the good fortune of such a disclosure, I shudder -at any delay, and tremble lest I should not assure to one as -worthy as yourself the possession of so vast an amount of -hidden wealth." Edmond turned away his head with a sigh. -"You persist in your incredulity, Edmond," continued Faria. -"My words have not convinced you. I see you require proofs. -Well, then, read this paper, which I have never shown to any -one." -"Tomorrow, my dear friend," said Edmond, desirous of not -yielding to the old man's madness. "I thought it was -understood that we should not talk of that until tomorrow." -"Then we will not talk of it until tomorrow but read this -paper today." -"I will not irritate him," thought Edmond, and taking the -paper, of which half was wanting, having been burnt, no -doubt, by some accident, he read -"This treasure, which may amount to two... -of Roman crowns in the most distant a... -of the second opening wh... -declare to belong to him alo... -heir. -"th April, " -"Well" said Faria, when the young man had finished reading -it. -"Why," replied Dantes, "I see nothing but broken lines and -unconnected words, which are rendered illegible by fire." -"Yes, to you, my friend, who read them for the first time -but not for me, who have grown pale over them by many -nights' study, and have reconstructed every phrase, -completed every thought." -"And do you believe you have discovered the hidden meaning?" -"I am sure I have, and you shall judge for yourself but -first listen to the history of this paper." -"Silence" exclaimed Dantes. "Steps approach I go -adieu." -And Dantes, happy to escape the history and explanation -which would be sure to confirm his belief in his friend's -mental instability, glided like a snake along the narrow -passage while Faria, restored by his alarm to a certain -amount of activity, pushed the stone into place with his -foot, and covered it with a mat in order the more -effectually to avoid discovery. -It was the governor, who, hearing of Faria's illness from -the jailer, had come in person to see him. -Faria sat up to receive him, avoiding all gestures in order -that he might conceal from the governor the paralysis that -had already half stricken him with death. His fear was lest -the governor, touched with pity, might order him to be -removed to better quarters, and thus separate him from his -young companion. But fortunately this was not the case, and -the governor left him, convinced that the poor madman, for -whom in his heart he felt a kind of affection, was only -troubled with a slight indisposition. -During this time, Edmond, seated on his bed with his head in -his hands, tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Faria, -since their first acquaintance, had been on all points so -rational and logical, so wonderfully sagacious, in fact, -that he could not understand how so much wisdom on all -points could be allied with madness. Was Faria deceived as -to his treasure, or was all the world deceived as to Faria? -Dantes remained in his cell all day, not daring to return to -his friend, thinking thus to defer the moment when he should -be convinced, once for all, that the abbe was mad such a -conviction would be so terrible -But, towards the evening after the hour for the customary -visit had gone by, Faria, not seeing the young man appear, -tried to move and get over the distance which separated -them. Edmond shuddered when he heard the painful efforts -which the old man made to drag himself along his leg was -inert, and he could no longer make use of one arm. Edmond -was obliged to assist him, for otherwise he would not have -been able to enter by the small aperture which led to -Dantes' chamber. -"Here I am, pursuing you remorselessly," he said with a -benignant smile. "You thought to escape my munificence, but -it is in vain. Listen to me." -Edmond saw there was no escape, and placing the old man on -his bed, he seated himself on the stool beside him. -"You know," said the abbe, "that I was the secretary and -intimate friend of Cardinal Spada, the last of the princes -of that name. I owe to this worthy lord all the happiness I -ever knew. He was not rich, although the wealth of his -family had passed into a proverb, and I heard the phrase -very often, "As rich as a Spada.' But he, like public rumor, -lived on this reputation for wealth his palace was my -paradise. I was tutor to his nephews, who are dead and when -he was alone in the world, I tried by absolute devotion to -his will, to make up to him all he had done for me during -ten years of unremitting kindness. The cardinal's house had -no secrets for me. I had often seen my noble patron -annotating ancient volumes, and eagerly searching amongst -dusty family manuscripts. One day when I was reproaching him -for his unavailing searches, and deploring the prostration -of mind that followed them, he looked at me, and, smiling -bitterly, opened a volume relating to the History of the -City of Rome. There, in the twentieth chapter of the Life of -Pope Alexander VI., were the following lines, which I can -never forget -""The great wars of Romagna had ended Caesar Borgia, who -had completed his conquest, had need of money to purchase -all Italy. The pope had also need of money to bring matters -to an end with Louis XII. King of France, who was formidable -still in spite of his recent reverses and it was necessary, -therefore, to have recourse to some profitable scheme, which -was a matter of great difficulty in the impoverished -condition of exhausted Italy. His holiness had an idea. He -determined to make two cardinals.' -"By choosing two of the greatest personages of Rome, -especially rich men this was the return the holy father -looked for. In the first place, he could sell the great -appointments and splendid offices which the cardinals -already held and then he had the two hats to sell besides. -There was a third point in view, which will appear -hereafter. The pope and Caesar Borgia first found the two -future cardinals they were Giovanni Rospigliosi, who held -four of the highest dignities of the Holy See, and Caesar -Spada, one of the noblest and richest of the Roman nobility -both felt the high honor of such a favor from the pope. They -were ambitious, and Caesar Borgia soon found purchasers for -their appointments. The result was, that Rospigliosi and -Spada paid for being cardinals, and eight other persons paid -for the offices the cardinals held before their elevation, -and thus eight hundred thousand crowns entered into the -coffers of the speculators. -"It is time now to proceed to the last part of the -speculation. The pope heaped attentions upon Rospigliosi and -Spada, conferred upon them the insignia of the cardinalate, -and induced them to arrange their affairs and take up their -residence at Rome. Then the pope and Caesar Borgia invited -the two cardinals to dinner. This was a matter of dispute -between the holy father and his son. Caesar thought they -could make use of one of the means which he always had ready -for his friends, that is to say, in the first place, the -famous key which was given to certain persons with the -request that they go and open a designated cupboard. This -key was furnished with a small iron point, a negligence -on the part of the locksmith. When this was pressed to -effect the opening of the cupboard, of which the lock was -difficult, the person was pricked by this small point, and -died next day. Then there was the ring with the lion's head, -which Caesar wore when he wanted to greet his friends with a -clasp of the hand. The lion bit the hand thus favored, and -at the end of twentyfour hours, the bite was mortal. Caesar -proposed to his father, that they should either ask the -cardinals to open the cupboard, or shake hands with them -but Alexander VI., replied "Now as to the worthy cardinals, -Spada and Rospigliosi, let us ask both of them to dinner, -something tells me that we shall get that money back. -Besides, you forget, Caesar, an indigestion declares itself -immediately, while a prick or a bite occasions a delay of a -day or two.' Caesar gave way before such cogent reasoning, -and the cardinals were consequently invited to dinner. -"The table was laid in a vineyard belonging to the pope, -near San Pierdarena, a charming retreat which the cardinals -knew very well by report. Rospigliosi, quite set up with his -new dignities, went with a good appetite and his most -ingratiating manner. Spada, a prudent man, and greatly -attached to his only nephew, a young captain of the highest -promise, took paper and pen, and made his will. He then sent -word to his nephew to wait for him near the vineyard but it -appeared the servant did not find him. -"Spada knew what these invitations meant since -Christianity, so eminently civilizing, had made progress in -Rome, it was no longer a centurion who came from the tyrant -with a message, "Caesar wills that you die.' but it was a -legate a latere, who came with a smile on his lips to say -from the pope, "His holiness requests you to dine with him.' -"Spada set out about two o'clock to San Pierdarena. The pope -awaited him. The first sight that attracted the eyes of -Spada was that of his nephew, in full costume, and Caesar -Borgia paying him most marked attentions. Spada turned pale, -as Caesar looked at him with an ironical air, which proved -that he had anticipated all, and that the snare was well -spread. They began dinner and Spada was only able to inquire -of his nephew if he had received his message. The nephew -replied no perfectly comprehending the meaning of the -question. It was too late, for he had already drunk a glass -of excellent wine, placed for him expressly by the pope's -butler. Spada at the same moment saw another bottle approach -him, which he was pressed to taste. An hour afterwards a -physician declared they were both poisoned through eating -mushrooms. Spada died on the threshold of the vineyard the -nephew expired at his own door, making signs which his wife -could not comprehend. -"Then Caesar and the pope hastened to lay hands on the -heritage, under presence of seeking for the papers of the -dead man. But the inheritance consisted in this only, a -scrap of paper on which Spada had written "I bequeath to -my beloved nephew my coffers, my books, and, amongst others, -my breviary with the gold corners, which I beg he will -preserve in remembrance of his affectionate uncle.' -"The heirs sought everywhere, admired the breviary, laid -hands on the furniture, and were greatly astonished that -Spada, the rich man, was really the most miserable of uncles -no treasures unless they were those of science, -contained in the library and laboratories. That was all. -Caesar and his father searched, examined, scrutinized, but -found nothing, or at least very little not exceeding a few -thousand crowns in plate, and about the same in ready money -but the nephew had time to say to his wife before he -expired "Look well among my uncle's papers there is a -will.' -"They sought even more thoroughly than the august heirs had -done, but it was fruitless. There were two palaces and a -vineyard behind the Palatine Hill but in these days landed -property had not much value, and the two palaces and the -vineyard remained to the family since they were beneath the -rapacity of the pope and his son. Months and years rolled -on. Alexander VI. died, poisoned, you know by what -mistake. Caesar, poisoned at the same time, escaped by -shedding his skin like a snake but the new skin was spotted -by the poison till it looked like a tiger's. Then, compelled -to quit Rome, he went and got himself obscurely killed in a -night skirmish, scarcely noticed in history. After the -pope's death and his son's exile, it was supposed that the -Spada family would resume the splendid position they had -held before the cardinal's time but this was not the case. -The Spadas remained in doubtful ease, a mystery hung over -this dark affair, and the public rumor was, that Caesar, a -better politician than his father, had carried off from the -pope the fortune of the two cardinals. I say the two, -because Cardinal Rospigliosi, who had not taken any -precaution, was completely despoiled. -"Up to this point," said Faria, interrupting the thread of -his narrative, "this seems to you very meaningless, no -doubt, eh?" -"Oh, my friend," cried Dantes, "on the contrary, it seems as -if I were reading a most interesting narrative go on, I beg -of you." -"I will." -"The family began to get accustomed to their obscurity. -Years rolled on, and amongst the descendants some were -soldiers, others diplomatists some churchmen, some bankers -some grew rich, and some were ruined. I come now to the last -of the family, whose secretary I was the Count of Spada. -I had often heard him complain of the disproportion of his -rank with his fortune and I advised him to invest all he -had in an annuity. He did so, and thus doubled his income. -The celebrated breviary remained in the family, and was in -the count's possession. It had been handed down from father -to son for the singular clause of the only will that had -been found, had caused it to be regarded as a genuine relic, -preserved in the family with superstitious veneration. It -was an illuminated book, with beautiful Gothic characters, -and so weighty with gold, that a servant always carried it -before the cardinal on days of great solemnity. -"At the sight of papers of all sorts, titles, contracts, -parchments, which were kept in the archives of the family, -all descending from the poisoned cardinal, I in my turn -examined the immense bundles of documents, like twenty -servitors, stewards, secretaries before me but in spite of -the most exhaustive researches, I found nothing. Yet I -had read, I had even written a precise history of the Borgia -family, for the sole purpose of assuring myself whether any -increase of fortune had occurred to them on the death of the -Cardinal Caesar Spada but could only trace the acquisition -of the property of the Cardinal Rospigliosi, his companion -in misfortune. -"I was then almost assured that the inheritance had neither -profited the Borgias nor the family, but had remained -unpossessed like the treasures of the Arabian Nights, which -slept in the bosom of the earth under the eyes of the genie. -I searched, ransacked, counted, calculated a thousand and a -thousand times the income and expenditure of the family for -three hundred years. It was useless. I remained in my -ignorance, and the Count of Spada in his poverty. My patron -died. He had reserved from his annuity his family papers, -his library, composed of five thousand volumes, and his -famous breviary. All these he bequeathed to me, with a -thousand Roman crowns, which he had in ready money, on -condition that I would have anniversary masses said for the -repose of his soul, and that I would draw up a genealogical -tree and history of his house. All this I did scrupulously. -Be easy, my dear Edmond, we are near the conclusion. -"In , a month before I was arrested, and a fortnight -after the death of the Count of Spada, on the th of -December you will see presently how the date became fixed -in my memory, I was reading, for the thousandth time, the -papers I was arranging, for the palace was sold to a -stranger, and I was going to leave Rome and settle at -Florence, intending to take with me twelve thousand francs I -possessed, my library, and the famous breviary, when, tired -with my constant labor at the same thing, and overcome by a -heavy dinner I had eaten, my head dropped on my hands, and I -fell asleep about three o'clock in the afternoon. I awoke as -the clock was striking six. I raised my head I was in utter -darkness. I rang for a light, but as no one came, I -determined to find one for myself. It was indeed but -anticipating the simple manners which I should soon be under -the necessity of adopting. I took a waxcandle in one hand, -and with the other groped about for a piece of paper my -matchbox being empty, with which I proposed to get a light -from the small flame still playing on the embers. Fearing, -however, to make use of any valuable piece of paper, I -hesitated for a moment, then recollected that I had seen in -the famous breviary, which was on the table beside me, an -old paper quite yellow with age, and which had served as a -marker for centuries, kept there by the request of the -heirs. I felt for it, found it, twisted it up together, and -putting it into the expiring flame, set light to it. -"But beneath my fingers, as if by magic, in proportion as -the fire ascended, I saw yellowish characters appear on the -paper. I grasped it in my hand, put out the flame as quickly -as I could, lighted my taper in the fire itself, and opened -the crumpled paper with inexpressible emotion, recognizing, -when I had done so, that these characters had been traced in -mysterious and sympathetic ink, only appearing when exposed -to the fire nearly onethird of the paper had been consumed -by the flame. It was that paper you read this morning read -it again, Dantes, and then I will complete for you the -incomplete words and unconnected sense." -Faria, with an air of triumph, offered the paper to Dantes, -who this time read the following words, traced with an ink -of a reddish color resembling rust -"This th day of April, , be... -Alexander VI., and fearing that not... -he may desire to become my heir, and re... -and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned,... -my sole heir, that I have bu... -and has visited with me, that is, in... -Island of Monte Cristo, all I poss... -jewels, diamonds, gems that I alone... -may amount to nearly two mil... -will find on raising the twentieth ro... -creek to the east in a right line. Two open... -in these caves the treasure is in the furthest a... -which treasure I bequeath and leave en... -as my sole heir. -"th April, . -"Caes... -"And now," said the abbe, "read this other paper" and he -presented to Dantes a second leaf with fragments of lines -written on it, which Edmond read as follows -"...ing invited to dine by his Holiness -...content with making me pay for my hat, -...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara -...I declare to my nephew, Guido Spada -...ried in a place he knows -...the caves of the small -...essed of ingots, gold, money, -...know of the existence of this treasure, which -...lions of Roman crowns, and which he -...ck from the small -...ings have been made -...ngle in the second -...tire to him -...ar Spada." -Faria followed him with an excited look. "and now," he said, -when he saw that Dantes had read the last line, "put the two -fragments together, and judge for yourself." Dantes obeyed, -and the conjointed pieces gave the following -"This th day of April, , be...ing invited to dine by -his Holiness Alexander VI., and fearing that not...content -with making me pay for my hat, he may desire to become my -heir, and re...serves for me the fate of Cardinals Caprara -and Bentivoglio, who were poisoned...I declare to my nephew, -Guido Spada, my sole heir, that I have bu...ried in a place -he knows and has visited with me, that is, in...the caves of -the small Island of Monte Cristo all I poss...ssed of -ingots, gold, money, jewels, diamonds, gems that I -alone...know of the existence of this treasure, which may -amount to nearly two mil...lions of Roman crowns, and which -he will find on raising the twentieth ro...ck from the small -creek to the east in a right line. Two open...ings have been -made in these caves the treasure is in the furthest -a...ngle in the second which treasure I bequeath and leave -en...tire to him as my sole heir. -"th April, . -"Caes...ar Spada." -"Well, do you comprehend now?" inquired Faria. -"It is the declaration of Cardinal Spada, and the will so -long sought for," replied Edmond, still incredulous. -"Yes a thousand times, yes" -"And who completed it as it now is?" -"I did. Aided by the remaining fragment, I guessed the rest -measuring the length of the lines by those of the paper, and -divining the hidden meaning by means of what was in part -revealed, as we are guided in a cavern by the small ray of -light above us." -"And what did you do when you arrived at this conclusion?" -"I resolved to set out, and did set out at that very -instant, carrying with me the beginning of my great work, -the unity of the Italian kingdom but for some time the -imperial police who at this period, quite contrary to what -Napoleon desired so soon as he had a son born to him, wished -for a partition of provinces had their eyes on me and my -hasty departure, the cause of which they were unable to -guess, having aroused their suspicions, I was arrested at -the very moment I was leaving Piombino. -"Now," continued Faria, addressing Dantes with an almost -paternal expression, "now, my dear fellow, you know as much -as I do myself. If we ever escape together, half this -treasure is yours if I die here, and you escape alone, the -whole belongs to you." -"But," inquired Dantes hesitating, "has this treasure no -more legitimate possessor in the world than ourselves?" -"No, no, be easy on that score the family is extinct. The -last Count of Spada, moreover, made me his heir, bequeathing -to me this symbolic breviary, he bequeathed to me all it -contained no, no, make your mind satisfied on that point. -If we lay hands on this fortune, we may enjoy it without -remorse." -"And you say this treasure amounts to" -"Two millions of Roman crowns nearly thirteen millions of -our money." - ,, in . -"Impossible" said Dantes, staggered at the enormous amount. -"Impossible? and why?" asked the old man. "The Spada family -was one of the oldest and most powerful families of the -fifteenth century and in those times, when other -opportunities for investment were wanting, such -accumulations of gold and jewels were by no means rare -there are at this day Roman families perishing of hunger, -though possessed of nearly a million in diamonds and jewels, -handed down by entail, and which they cannot touch." Edmond -thought he was in a dream he wavered between incredulity -and joy. -"I have only kept this secret so long from you," continued -Faria, "that I might test your character, and then surprise -you. Had we escaped before my attack of catalepsy, I should -have conducted you to Monte Cristo now," he added, with a -sigh, "it is you who will conduct me thither. Well, Dantes, -you do not thank me?" -"This treasure belongs to you, my dear friend," replied -Dantes, "and to you only. I have no right to it. I am no -relation of yours." -"You are my son, Dantes," exclaimed the old man. "You are -the child of my captivity. My profession condemns me to -celibacy. God has sent you to me to console, at one and the -same time, the man who could not be a father, and the -prisoner who could not get free." And Faria extended the arm -of which alone the use remained to him to the young man who -threw himself upon his neck and wept. -Chapter -The Third Attack. -Now that this treasure, which had so long been the object of -the abbe's meditations, could insure the future happiness of -him whom Faria really loved as a son, it had doubled its -value in his eyes, and every day he expatiated on the -amount, explaining to Dantes all the good which, with -thirteen or fourteen millions of francs, a man could do in -these days to his friends and then Dantes' countenance -became gloomy, for the oath of vengeance he had taken -recurred to his memory, and he reflected how much ill, in -these times, a man with thirteen or fourteen millions could -do to his enemies. -The abbe did not know the Island of Monte Cristo but Dantes -knew it, and had often passed it, situated twentyfive miles -from Pianosa, between Corsica and the Island of Elba, and -had once touched there. This island was, always had been, -and still is, completely deserted. It is a rock of almost -conical form, which looks as though it had been thrust up by -volcanic force from the depth to the surface of the ocean. -Dantes drew a plan of the island for Faria, and Faria gave -Dantes advice as to the means he should employ to recover -the treasure. But Dantes was far from being as enthusiastic -and confident as the old man. It was past a question now -that Faria was not a lunatic, and the way in which he had -achieved the discovery, which had given rise to the -suspicion of his madness, increased Edmond's admiration of -him but at the same time Dantes could not believe that the -deposit, supposing it had ever existed, still existed and -though he considered the treasure as by no means chimerical, -he yet believed it was no longer there. -However, as if fate resolved on depriving the prisoners of -their last chance, and making them understand that they were -condemned to perpetual imprisonment, a new misfortune befell -them the gallery on the sea side, which had long been in -ruins, was rebuilt. They had repaired it completely, and -stopped up with vast masses of stone the hole Dantes had -partly filled in. But for this precaution, which, it will be -remembered, the abbe had made to Edmond, the misfortune -would have been still greater, for their attempt to escape -would have been detected, and they would undoubtedly have -been separated. Thus a new, a stronger, and more inexorable -barrier was interposed to cut off the realization of their -hopes. -"You see," said the young man, with an air of sorrowful -resignation, to Faria, "that God deems it right to take from -me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. -I have promised to remain forever with you, and now I could -not break my promise if I would. The treasure will be no -more mine than yours, and neither of us will quit this -prison. But my real treasure is not that, my dear friend, -which awaits me beneath the sombre rocks of Monte Cristo, it -is your presence, our living together five or six hours a -day, in spite of our jailers it is the rays of intelligence -you have elicited from my brain, the languages you have -implanted in my memory, and which have taken root there with -all their philological ramifications. These different -sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of -the knowledge you possess of them, and the clearness of the -principles to which you have reduced them this is my -treasure, my beloved friend, and with this you have made me -rich and happy. Believe me, and take comfort, this is better -for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds, even were -they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the -morning floating over the sea, which we take for terra -firma, and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to -them. To have you as long as possible near me, to hear your -eloquent speech, which embellishes my mind, strengthens -my soul, and makes my whole frame capable of great and -terrible things, if I should ever be free, so fills my -whole existence, that the despair to which I was just on the -point of yielding when I knew you, has no longer any hold -over me and this this is my fortune not chimerical, -but actual. I owe you my real good, my present happiness -and all the sovereigns of the earth, even Caesar Borgia -himself, could not deprive me of this." -Thus, if not actually happy, yet the days these two -unfortunates passed together went quickly. Faria, who for so -long a time had kept silence as to the treasure, now -perpetually talked of it. As he had prophesied would be the -case, he remained paralyzed in the right arm and the left -leg, and had given up all hope of ever enjoying it himself. -But he was continually thinking over some means of escape -for his young companion, and anticipating the pleasure he -would enjoy. For fear the letter might be some day lost or -stolen, he compelled Dantes to learn it by heart and Dantes -knew it from the first to the last word. Then he destroyed -the second portion, assured that if the first were seized, -no one would be able to discover its real meaning. Whole -hours sometimes passed while Faria was giving instructions -to Dantes, instructions which were to serve him when he -was at liberty. Then, once free, from the day and hour and -moment when he was so, he could have but one only thought, -which was, to gain Monte Cristo by some means, and remain -there alone under some pretext which would arouse no -suspicions and once there, to endeavor to find the -wonderful caverns, and search in the appointed spot, the -appointed spot, be it remembered, being the farthest angle -in the second opening. -In the meanwhile the hours passed, if not rapidly, at least -tolerably. Faria, as we have said, without having recovered -the use of his hand and foot, had regained all the clearness -of his understanding, and had gradually, besides the moral -instructions we have detailed, taught his youthful companion -the patient and sublime duty of a prisoner, who learns to -make something from nothing. They were thus perpetually -employed, Faria, that he might not see himself grow old -Dantes, for fear of recalling the almost extinct past which -now only floated in his memory like a distant light -wandering in the night. So life went on for them as it does -for those who are not victims of misfortune and whose -activities glide along mechanically and tranquilly beneath -the eye of providence. -But beneath this superficial calm there were in the heart of -the young man, and perhaps in that of the old man, many -repressed desires, many stifled sighs, which found vent when -Faria was left alone, and when Edmond returned to his cell. -One night Edmond awoke suddenly, believing that he heard -some one calling him. He opened his eyes upon utter -darkness. His name, or rather a plaintive voice which -essayed to pronounce his name, reached him. He sat up in bed -and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. Undoubtedly the -call came from Faria's dungeon. "Alas," murmured Edmond -"can it be?" -He moved his bed, drew up the stone, rushed into the -passage, and reached the opposite extremity the secret -entrance was open. By the light of the wretched and wavering -lamp, of which we have spoken, Dantes saw the old man, pale, -but yet erect, clinging to the bedstead. His features were -writhing with those horrible symptoms which he already knew, -and which had so seriously alarmed him when he saw them for -the first time. -"Alas, my dear friend," said Faria in a resigned tone, "you -understand, do you not, and I need not attempt to explain to -you?" -Edmond uttered a cry of agony, and, quite out of his senses, -rushed towards the door, exclaiming, "Help, help" Faria had -just sufficient strength to restrain him. -"Silence," he said, "or you are lost. We must now only think -of you, my dear friend, and so act as to render your -captivity supportable or your flight possible. It would -require years to do again what I have done here, and the -results would be instantly destroyed if our jailers knew we -had communicated with each other. Besides, be assured, my -dear Edmond, the dungeon I am about to leave will not long -remain empty some other unfortunate being will soon take my -place, and to him you will appear like an angel of -salvation. Perhaps he will be young, strong, and enduring, -like yourself, and will aid you in your escape, while I have -been but a hindrance. You will no longer have half a dead -body tied to you as a drag to all your movements. At length -providence has done something for you he restores to you -more than he takes away, and it was time I should die." -Edmond could only clasp his hands and exclaim, "Oh, my -friend, my friend, speak not thus" and then resuming all -his presence of mind, which had for a moment staggered under -this blow, and his strength, which had failed at the words -of the old man, he said, "Oh, I have saved you once, and I -will save you a second time" And raising the foot of the -bed, he drew out the phial, still a third filled with the -red liquor. -"See," he exclaimed, "there remains still some of the magic -draught. Quick, quick tell me what I must do this time are -there any fresh instructions? Speak, my friend I listen." -"There is not a hope," replied Faria, shaking his head, "but -no matter God wills it that man whom he has created, and in -whose heart he has so profoundly rooted the love of life, -should do all in his power to preserve that existence, -which, however painful it may be, is yet always so dear." -"Oh, yes, yes" exclaimed Dantes "and I tell you that I -will save you yet." -"Well, then, try. The cold gains upon me. I feel the blood -flowing towards my brain. These horrible chills, which make -my teeth chatter and seem to dislocate my bones, begin to -pervade my whole frame in five minutes the malady will -reach its height, and in a quarter of an hour there will be -nothing left of me but a corpse." -"Oh" exclaimed Dantes, his heart wrung with anguish. -"Do as you did before, only do not wait so long, all the -springs of life are now exhausted in me, and death," he -continued, looking at his paralyzed arm and leg, "has but -half its work to do. If, after having made me swallow twelve -drops instead of ten, you see that I do not recover, then -pour the rest down my throat. Now lift me on my bed, for I -can no longer support myself." -Edmond took the old man in his arms, and laid him on the -bed. -"And now, my dear friend," said Faria, "sole consolation of -my wretched existence, you whom heaven gave me somewhat -late, but still gave me, a priceless gift, and for which I -am most grateful, at the moment of separating from you -forever, I wish you all the happiness and all the prosperity -you so well deserve. My son, I bless thee" The young man -cast himself on his knees, leaning his head against the old -man's bed. -"Listen, now, to what I say in this my dying moment. The -treasure of the Spadas exists. God grants me the boon of -vision unrestricted by time or space. I see it in the depths -of the inner cavern. My eyes pierce the inmost recesses of -the earth, and are dazzled at the sight of so much riches. -If you do escape, remember that the poor abbe, whom all the -world called mad, was not so. Hasten to Monte Cristo -avail yourself of the fortune for you have indeed -suffered long enough." A violent convulsion attacked the old -man. Dantes raised his head and saw Faria's eyes injected -with blood. It seemed as if a flow of blood had ascended -from the chest to the head. -"Adieu, adieu" murmured the old man, clasping Edmond's hand -convulsively "adieu" -"Oh, no, no, not yet," he cried "do not forsake me Oh, -succor him Help help help" -"Hush hush" murmured the dying man, "that they may not -separate us if you save me" -"You are right. Oh, yes, yes be assured I shall save you -Besides, although you suffer much, you do not seem to be in -such agony as you were before." -"Do not mistake. I suffer less because there is in me less -strength to endure. At your age we have faith in life it is -the privilege of youth to believe and hope, but old men see -death more clearly. Oh, 'tis here 'tis here 'tis over -my sight is gone my senses fail Your hand, Dantes -Adieu adieu" And raising himself by a final effort, in -which he summoned all his faculties, he said, "Monte -Cristo, forget not Monte Cristo" And he fell back on the -bed. The crisis was terrible, and a rigid form with twisted -limbs, swollen eyelids, and lips flecked with bloody foam, -lay on the bed of torture, in place of the intellectual -being who so lately rested there. -Dantes took the lamp, placed it on a projecting stone above -the bed, whence its tremulous light fell with strange and -fantastic ray on the distorted countenance and motionless, -stiffened body. With steady gaze he awaited confidently the -moment for administering the restorative. -When he believed that the right moment had arrived, he took -the knife, pried open the teeth, which offered less -resistance than before, counted one after the other twelve -drops, and watched the phial contained, perhaps, twice as -much more. He waited ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, half -an hour, no change took place. Trembling, his hair erect, -his brow bathed with perspiration, he counted the seconds by -the beating of his heart. Then he thought it was time to -make the last trial, and he put the phial to the purple lips -of Faria, and without having occasion to force open his -jaws, which had remained extended, he poured the whole of -the liquid down his throat. -The draught produced a galvanic effect, a violent trembling -pervaded the old man's limbs, his eyes opened until it was -fearful to gaze upon them, he heaved a sigh which resembled -a shriek, and then his convulsed body returned gradually to -its former immobility, the eyes remaining open. -Half an hour, an hour, an hour and a half elapsed, and -during this period of anguish, Edmond leaned over his -friend, his hand applied to his heart, and felt the body -gradually grow cold, and the heart's pulsation become more -and more deep and dull, until at length it stopped the last -movement of the heart ceased, the face became livid, the -eyes remained open, but the eyeballs were glazed. It was six -o'clock in the morning, the dawn was just breaking, and its -feeble ray came into the dungeon, and paled the ineffectual -light of the lamp. Strange shadows passed over the -countenance of the dead man, and at times gave it the -appearance of life. While the struggle between day and night -lasted, Dantes still doubted but as soon as the daylight -gained the preeminence, he saw that he was alone with a -corpse. Then an invincible and extreme terror seized upon -him, and he dared not again press the hand that hung out of -bed, he dared no longer to gaze on those fixed and vacant -eyes, which he tried many times to close, but in vain -they opened again as soon as shut. He extinguished the lamp, -carefully concealed it, and then went away, closing as well -as he could the entrance to the secret passage by the large -stone as he descended. -It was time, for the jailer was coming. On this occasion he -began his rounds at Dantes' cell, and on leaving him he went -on to Faria's dungeon, taking thither breakfast and some -linen. Nothing betokened that the man know anything of what -had occurred. He went on his way. -Dantes was then seized with an indescribable desire to know -what was going on in the dungeon of his unfortunate friend. -He therefore returned by the subterraneous gallery, and -arrived in time to hear the exclamations of the turnkey, who -called out for help. Other turnkeys came, and then was heard -the regular tramp of soldiers. Last of all came the -governor. -Edmond heard the creaking of the bed as they moved the -corpse, heard the voice of the governor, who asked them to -throw water on the dead man's face and seeing that, in -spite of this application, the prisoner did not recover, -they sent for the doctor. The governor then went out, and -words of pity fell on Dantes' listening ears, mingled with -brutal laughter. -"Well, well," said one, "the madman has gone to look after -his treasure. Good journey to him" -"With all his millions, he will not have enough to pay for -his shroud" said another. -"Oh," added a third voice, "the shrouds of the Chateau d'If -are not dear" -"Perhaps," said one of the previous speakers, "as he was a -churchman, they may go to some expense in his behalf." -"They may give him the honors of the sack." -Edmond did not lose a word, but comprehended very little of -what was said. The voices soon ceased, and it seemed to him -as if every one had left the cell. Still he dared not to -enter, as they might have left some turnkey to watch the -dead. He remained, therefore, mute and motionless, hardly -venturing to breathe. At the end of an hour, he heard a -faint noise, which increased. It was the governor who -returned, followed by the doctor and other attendants. There -was a moment's silence, it was evident that the doctor -was examining the dead body. The inquiries soon commenced. -The doctor analyzed the symptoms of the malady to which the -prisoner had succumbed, and declared that he was dead. -Questions and answers followed in a nonchalant manner that -made Dantes indignant, for he felt that all the world should -have for the poor abbe a love and respect equal to his own. -"I am very sorry for what you tell me," said the governor, -replying to the assurance of the doctor, "that the old man -is really dead for he was a quiet, inoffensive prisoner, -happy in his folly, and required no watching." -"Ah," added the turnkey, "there was no occasion for watching -him he would have stayed here fifty years, I'll answer for -it, without any attempt to escape." -"Still," said the governor, "I believe it will be requisite, -notwithstanding your certainty, and not that I doubt your -science, but in discharge of my official duty, that we -should be perfectly assured that the prisoner is dead." -There was a moment of complete silence, during which Dantes, -still listening, knew that the doctor was examining the -corpse a second time. -"You may make your mind easy," said the doctor "he is dead. -I will answer for that." -"You know, sir," said the governor, persisting, "that we are -not content in such cases as this with such a simple -examination. In spite of all appearances, be so kind, -therefore, as to finish your duty by fulfilling the -formalities described by law." -"Let the irons be heated," said the doctor "but really it -is a useless precaution." This order to heat the irons made -Dantes shudder. He heard hasty steps, the creaking of a -door, people going and coming, and some minutes afterwards a -turnkey entered, saying, -"Here is the brazier, lighted." There was a moment's -silence, and then was heard the crackling of burning flesh, -of which the peculiar and nauseous smell penetrated even -behind the wall where Dantes was listening in horror. The -perspiration poured forth upon the young man's brow, and he -felt as if he should faint. -"You see, sir, he is really dead," said the doctor "this -burn in the heel is decisive. The poor fool is cured of his -folly, and delivered from his captivity." -"Wasn't his name Faria?" inquired one of the officers who -accompanied the governor. -"Yes, sir and, as he said, it was an ancient name. He was, -too, very learned, and rational enough on all points which -did not relate to his treasure but on that, indeed, he was -intractable." -"It is the sort of malady which we call monomania," said the -doctor. -"You had never anything to complain of?" said the governor -to the jailer who had charge of the abbe. -"Never, sir," replied the jailer, "never on the contrary, -he sometimes amused me very much by telling me stories. One -day, too, when my wife was ill, he gave me a prescription -which cured her." -"Ah, ah" said the doctor, "I did not know that I had a -rival but I hope, governor, that you will show him all -proper respect." -"Yes, yes, make your mind easy, he shall be decently -interred in the newest sack we can find. Will that satisfy -you?" -"Must this last formality take place in your presence, sir?" -inquired a turnkey. -"Certainly. But make haste I cannot stay here all day." -Other footsteps, going and coming, were now heard, and a -moment afterwards the noise of rustling canvas reached -Dantes' ears, the bed creaked, and the heavy footfall of a -man who lifts a weight sounded on the floor then the bed -again creaked under the weight deposited upon it. -"This evening," said the governor. -"Will there be any mass?" asked one of the attendants. -"That is impossible," replied the governor. "The chaplain of -the chateau came to me yesterday to beg for leave of -absence, in order to take a trip to Hyeres for a week. I -told him I would attend to the prisoners in his absence. If -the poor abbe had not been in such a hurry, he might have -had his requiem." -"Pooh, pooh" said the doctor, with the impiety usual in -persons of his profession "he is a churchman. God will -respect his profession, and not give the devil the wicked -delight of sending him a priest." A shout of laughter -followed this brutal jest. Meanwhile the operation of -putting the body in the sack was going on. -"This evening," said the governor, when the task was ended. -"At what hour?" inquired a turnkey. -"Why, about ten or eleven o'clock." -"Shall we watch by the corpse?" -"Of what use would it be? Shut the dungeon as if he were -alive that is all." Then the steps retreated, and the -voices died away in the distance the noise of the door, -with its creaking hinges and bolts ceased, and a silence -more sombre than that of solitude ensued, the silence of -death, which was allpervasive, and struck its icy chill to -the very soul of Dantes. Then he raised the flagstone -cautiously with his head, and looked carefully around the -chamber. It was empty, and Dantes emerged from the tunnel. -Chapter -The Cemetery of the Chateau D'If. -On the bed, at full length, and faintly illuminated by the -pale light that came from the window, lay a sack of canvas, -and under its rude folds was stretched a long and stiffened -form it was Faria's last windingsheet, a windingsheet -which, as the turnkey said, cost so little. Everything was -in readiness. A barrier had been placed between Dantes and -his old friend. No longer could Edmond look into those -wideopen eyes which had seemed to be penetrating the -mysteries of death no longer could he clasp the hand which -had done so much to make his existence blessed. Faria, the -beneficent and cheerful companion, with whom he was -accustomed to live so intimately, no longer breathed. He -seated himself on the edge of that terrible bed, and fell -into melancholy and gloomy revery. -Alone he was alone again again condemned to silence -again face to face with nothingness Alone never again -to see the face, never again to hear the voice of the only -human being who united him to earth Was not Faria's fate -the better, after all to solve the problem of life at its -source, even at the risk of horrible suffering? The idea of -suicide, which his friend had driven away and kept away by -his cheerful presence, now hovered like a phantom over the -abbe's dead body. -"If I could die," he said, "I should go where he goes, and -should assuredly find him again. But how to die? It is very -easy," he went on with a smile "I will remain here, rush on -the first person that opens the door, strangle him, and then -they will guillotine me." But excessive grief is like a -storm at sea, where the frail bark is tossed from the depths -to the top of the wave. Dantes recoiled from the idea of so -infamous a death, and passed suddenly from despair to an -ardent desire for life and liberty. -"Die? oh, no," he exclaimed "not die now, after having -lived and suffered so long and so much Die? yes, had I died -years ago but now to die would be, indeed, to give way to -the sarcasm of destiny. No, I want to live I shall struggle -to the very last I will yet win back the happiness of which -I have been deprived. Before I die I must not forget that I -have my executioners to punish, and perhaps, too, who knows, -some friends to reward. Yet they will forget me here, and I -shall die in my dungeon like Faria." As he said this, he -became silent and gazed straight before him like one -overwhelmed with a strange and amazing thought. Suddenly he -arose, lifted his hand to his brow as if his brain wore -giddy, paced twice or thrice round the dungeon, and then -paused abruptly by the bed. -"Just God" he muttered, "whence comes this thought? Is it -from thee? Since none but the dead pass freely from this -dungeon, let me take the place of the dead" Without giving -himself time to reconsider his decision, and, indeed, that -he might not allow his thoughts to be distracted from his -desperate resolution, he bent over the appalling shroud, -opened it with the knife which Faria had made, drew the -corpse from the sack, and bore it along the tunnel to his -own chamber, laid it on his couch, tied around its head the -rag he wore at night around his own, covered it with his -counterpane, once again kissed the icecold brow, and tried -vainly to close the resisting eyes, which glared horribly, -turned the head towards the wall, so that the jailer might, -when he brought the evening meal, believe that he was -asleep, as was his frequent custom entered the tunnel -again, drew the bed against the wall, returned to the other -cell, took from the hidingplace the needle and thread, -flung off his rags, that they might feel only naked flesh -beneath the coarse canvas, and getting inside the sack, -placed himself in the posture in which the dead body had -been laid, and sewed up the mouth of the sack from the -inside. -He would have been discovered by the beating of his heart, -if by any mischance the jailers had entered at that moment. -Dantes might have waited until the evening visit was over, -but he was afraid that the governor would change his mind, -and order the dead body to be removed earlier. In that case -his last hope would have been destroyed. Now his plans were -fully made, and this is what he intended to do. If while he -was being carried out the gravediggers should discover that -they were bearing a live instead of a dead body, Dantes did -not intend to give them time to recognize him, but with a -sudden cut of the knife, he meant to open the sack from top -to bottom, and, profiting by their alarm, escape if they -tried to catch him, he would use his knife to better -purpose. -If they took him to the cemetery and laid him in a grave, he -would allow himself to be covered with earth, and then, as -it was night, the gravediggers could scarcely have turned -their backs before he would have worked his way through the -yielding soil and escaped. He hoped that the weight of earth -would not be so great that he could not overcome it. If he -was detected in this and the earth proved too heavy, he -would be stifled, and then so much the better, all would -be over. Dantes had not eaten since the preceding evening, -but he had not thought of hunger, nor did he think of it -now. His situation was too precarious to allow him even time -to reflect on any thought but one. -The first risk that Dantes ran was, that the jailer, when he -brought him his supper at seven o'clock, might perceive the -change that had been made fortunately, twenty times at -least, from misanthropy or fatigue, Dantes had received his -jailer in bed, and then the man placed his bread and soup on -the table, and went away without saying a word. This time -the jailer might not be as silent as usual, but speak to -Dantes, and seeing that he received no reply, go to the bed, -and thus discover all. -When seven o'clock came, Dantes' agony really began. His -hand placed upon his heart was unable to redress its -throbbings, while, with the other he wiped the perspiration -from his temples. From time to time chills ran through his -whole body, and clutched his heart in a grasp of ice. Then -he thought he was going to die. Yet the hours passed on -without any unusual disturbance, and Dantes knew that he had -escaped the first peril. It was a good augury. At length, -about the hour the governor had appointed, footsteps were -heard on the stairs. Edmond felt that the moment had -arrived, summoned up all his courage, held his breath, and -would have been happy if at the same time he could have -repressed the throbbing of his veins. The footsteps they -were double paused at the door and Dantes guessed that -the two gravediggers had come to seek him this idea was -soon converted into certainty, when he heard the noise they -made in putting down the handbier. The door opened, and a -dim light reached Dantes' eyes through the coarse sack that -covered him he saw two shadows approach his bed, a third -remaining at the door with a torch in its hand. The two men, -approaching the ends of the bed, took the sack by its -extremities. -"He's heavy though for an old and thin man," said one, as he -raised the head. -"They say every year adds half a pound to the weight of the -bones," said another, lifting the feet. -"Have you tied the knot?" inquired the first speaker. -"What would be the use of carrying so much more weight?" was -the reply, "I can do that when we get there." -"Yes, you're right," replied the companion. -"What's the knot for?" thought Dantes. -They deposited the supposed corpse on the bier. Edmond -stiffened himself in order to play the part of a dead man, -and then the party, lighted by the man with the torch, who -went first, ascended the stairs. Suddenly he felt the fresh -and sharp night air, and Dantes knew that the mistral was -blowing. It was a sensation in which pleasure and pain were -strangely mingled. The bearers went on for twenty paces, -then stopped, putting the bier down on the ground. One of -them went away, and Dantes heard his shoes striking on the -pavement. -"Where am I?" he asked himself. -"Really, he is by no means a light load" said the other -bearer, sitting on the edge of the handbarrow. Dantes' -first impulse was to escape, but fortunately he did not -attempt it. -"Give us a light," said the other bearer, "or I shall never -find what I am looking for." The man with the torch -complied, although not asked in the most polite terms. -"What can he be looking for?" thought Edmond. "The spade, -perhaps." An exclamation of satisfaction indicated that the -gravedigger had found the object of his search. "Here it is -at last," he said, "not without some trouble though." -"Yes," was the answer, "but it has lost nothing by waiting." -As he said this, the man came towards Edmond, who heard a -heavy metallic substance laid down beside him, and at the -same moment a cord was fastened round his feet with sudden -and painful violence. -"Well, have you tied the knot?" inquired the gravedigger, -who was looking on. -"Yes, and pretty tight too, I can tell you," was the answer. -"Move on, then." And the bier was lifted once more, and they -proceeded. -They advanced fifty paces farther, and then stopped to open -a door, then went forward again. The noise of the waves -dashing against the rocks on which the chateau is built, -reached Dantes' ear distinctly as they went forward. -"Bad weather" observed one of the bearers "not a pleasant -night for a dip in the sea." -"Why, yes, the abbe runs a chance of being wet," said the -other and then there was a burst of brutal laughter. Dantes -did not comprehend the jest, but his hair stood erect on his -head. -"Well, here we are at last," said one of them. "A little -farther a little farther," said the other. "You know very -well that the last was stopped on his way, dashed on the -rocks, and the governor told us next day that we were -careless fellows." -They ascended five or six more steps, and then Dantes felt -that they took him, one by the head and the other by the -heels, and swung him to and fro. "One" said the -gravediggers, "two three" And at the same instant Dantes -felt himself flung into the air like a wounded bird, -falling, falling, with a rapidity that made his blood -curdle. Although drawn downwards by the heavy weight which -hastened his rapid descent, it seemed to him as if the fall -lasted for a century. -At last, with a horrible splash, he darted like an arrow -into the icecold water, and as he did so he uttered a -shrill cry, stifled in a moment by his immersion beneath the -waves. -Dantes had been flung into the sea, and was dragged into its -depths by a thirtysix pound shot tied to his feet. The sea -is the cemetery of the Chateau d'If. -Chapter -The Island of Tiboulen. -Dantes, although stunned and almost suffocated, had -sufficient presence of mind to hold his breath, and as his -right hand prepared as he was for every chance held his -knife open, he rapidly ripped up the sack, extricated his -arm, and then his body but in spite of all his efforts to -free himself from the shot, he felt it dragging him down -still lower. He then bent his body, and by a desperate -effort severed the cord that bound his legs, at the moment -when it seemed as if he were actually strangled. With a -mighty leap he rose to the surface of the sea, while the -shot dragged down to the depths the sack that had so nearly -become his shroud. -Dantes waited only to get breath, and then dived, in order -to avoid being seen. When he arose a second time, he was -fifty paces from where he had first sunk. He saw overhead a -black and tempestuous sky, across which the wind was driving -clouds that occasionally suffered a twinkling star to -appear before him was the vast expanse of waters, sombre -and terrible, whose waves foamed and roared as if before the -approach of a storm. Behind him, blacker than the sea, -blacker than the sky, rose phantomlike the vast stone -structure, whose projecting crags seemed like arms extended -to seize their prey, and on the highest rock was a torch -lighting two figures. He fancied that these two forms were -looking at the sea doubtless these strange gravediggers -had heard his cry. Dantes dived again, and remained a long -time beneath the water. This was an easy feat to him, for he -usually attracted a crowd of spectators in the bay before -the lighthouse at Marseilles when he swam there, and was -unanimously declared to be the best swimmer in the port. -When he came up again the light had disappeared. -He must now get his bearings. Ratonneau and Pomegue are the -nearest islands of all those that surround the Chateau d'If, -but Ratonneau and Pomegue are inhabited, as is also the -islet of Daume. Tiboulen and Lemaire were therefore the -safest for Dantes' venture. The islands of Tiboulen and -Lemaire are a league from the Chateau d'If Dantes, -nevertheless, determined to make for them. But how could he -find his way in the darkness of the night? At this moment he -saw the light of Planier, gleaming in front of him like a -star. By leaving this light on the right, he kept the Island -of Tiboulen a little on the left by turning to the left, -therefore, he would find it. But, as we have said, it was at -least a league from the Chateau d'If to this island. Often -in prison Faria had said to him, when he saw him idle and -inactive, "Dantes, you must not give way to this -listlessness you will be drowned if you seek to escape, and -your strength has not been properly exercised and prepared -for exertion." These words rang in Dantes' ears, even -beneath the waves he hastened to cleave his way through -them to see if he had not lost his strength. He found with -pleasure that his captivity had taken away nothing of his -power, and that he was still master of that element on whose -bosom he had so often sported as a boy. -Fear, that relentless pursuer, clogged Dantes' efforts. He -listened for any sound that might be audible, and every time -that he rose to the top of a wave he scanned the horizon, -and strove to penetrate the darkness. He fancied that every -wave behind him was a pursuing boat, and he redoubled his -exertions, increasing rapidly his distance from the chateau, -but exhausting his strength. He swam on still, and already -the terrible chateau had disappeared in the darkness. He -could not see it, but he felt its presence. An hour passed, -during which Dantes, excited by the feeling of freedom, -continued to cleave the waves. "Let us see," said he, "I -have swum above an hour, but as the wind is against me, that -has retarded my speed however, if I am not mistaken, I must -be close to Tiboulen. But what if I were mistaken?" A -shudder passed over him. He sought to tread water, in order -to rest himself but the sea was too violent, and he felt -that he could not make use of this means of recuperation. -"Well," said he, "I will swim on until I am worn out, or the -cramp seizes me, and then I shall sink" and he struck out -with the energy of despair. -Suddenly the sky seemed to him to become still darker and -more dense, and heavy clouds seemed to sweep down towards -him at the same time he felt a sharp pain in his knee. He -fancied for a moment that he had been shot, and listened for -the report but he heard nothing. Then he put out his hand, -and encountered an obstacle and with another stroke knew -that he had gained the shore. -Before him rose a grotesque mass of rocks, that resembled -nothing so much as a vast fire petrified at the moment of -its most fervent combustion. It was the Island of Tiboulen. -Dantes rose, advanced a few steps, and, with a fervent -prayer of gratitude, stretched himself on the granite, which -seemed to him softer than down. Then, in spite of the wind -and rain, he fell into the deep, sweet sleep of utter -exhaustion. At the expiration of an hour Edmond was awakened -by the roar of thunder. The tempest was let loose and -beating the atmosphere with its mighty wings from time to -time a flash of lightning stretched across the heavens like -a fiery serpent, lighting up the clouds that rolled on in -vast chaotic waves. -Dantes had not been deceived he had reached the first of -the two islands, which was, in fact, Tiboulen. He knew that -it was barren and without shelter but when the sea became -more calm, he resolved to plunge into its waves again, and -swim to Lemaire, equally arid, but larger, and consequently -better adapted for concealment. -An overhanging rock offered him a temporary shelter, and -scarcely had he availed himself of it when the tempest burst -forth in all its fury. Edmond felt the trembling of the rock -beneath which he lay the waves, dashing themselves against -it, wetted him with their spray. He was safely sheltered, -and yet he felt dizzy in the midst of the warring of the -elements and the dazzling brightness of the lightning. It -seemed to him that the island trembled to its base, and that -it would, like a vessel at anchor, break moorings, and bear -him off into the centre of the storm. He then recollected -that he had not eaten or drunk for fourandtwenty hours. He -extended his hands, and drank greedily of the rainwater that -had lodged in a hollow of the rock. -As he rose, a flash of lightning, that seemed to rive the -remotest heights of heaven, illumined the darkness. By its -light, between the Island of Lemaire and Cape Croiselle, a -quarter of a league distant, Dantes saw a fishingboat -driven rapidly like a spectre before the power of winds and -waves. A second after, he saw it again, approaching with -frightful rapidity. Dantes cried at the top of his voice to -warn them of their danger, but they saw it themselves. -Another flash showed him four men clinging to the shattered -mast and the rigging, while a fifth clung to the broken -rudder. -The men he beheld saw him undoubtedly, for their cries were -carried to his ears by the wind. Above the splintered mast a -sail rent to tatters was waving suddenly the ropes that -still held it gave way, and it disappeared in the darkness -of the night like a vast seabird. At the same moment a -violent crash was heard, and cries of distress. Dantes from -his rocky perch saw the shattered vessel, and among the -fragments the floating forms of the hapless sailors. Then -all was dark again. -Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself -dashed to pieces he listened, he groped about, but he heard -and saw nothing the cries had ceased, and the tempest -continued to rage. By degrees the wind abated, vast gray -clouds rolled towards the west, and the blue firmament -appeared studded with bright stars. Soon a red streak became -visible in the horizon, the waves whitened, a light played -over them, and gilded their foaming crests with gold. It was -day. -Dantes stood mute and motionless before this majestic -spectacle, as if he now beheld it for the first time and -indeed since his captivity in the Chateau d'If he had -forgotten that such scenes were ever to be witnessed. He -turned towards the fortress, and looked at both sea and -land. The gloomy building rose from the bosom of the ocean -with imposing majesty and seemed to dominate the scene. It -was about five o'clock. The sea continued to get calmer. -"In two or three hours," thought Dantes, "the turnkey will -enter my chamber, find the body of my poor friend, recognize -it, seek for me in vain, and give the alarm. Then the tunnel -will be discovered the men who cast me into the sea and who -must have heard the cry I uttered, will be questioned. Then -boats filled with armed soldiers will pursue the wretched -fugitive. The cannon will warn every one to refuse shelter -to a man wandering about naked and famished. The police of -Marseilles will be on the alert by land, whilst the governor -pursues me by sea. I am cold, I am hungry. I have lost even -the knife that saved me. O my God, I have suffered enough -surely Have pity on me, and do for me what I am unable to -do for myself." -As Dantes his eyes turned in the direction of the Chateau -d'If uttered this prayer, he saw off the farther point of -the Island of Pomegue a small vessel with lateen sail -skimming the sea like a gull in search of prey and with his -sailor's eye he knew it to be a Genoese tartan. She was -coming out of Marseilles harbor, and was standing out to sea -rapidly, her sharp prow cleaving through the waves. "Oh," -cried Edmond, "to think that in half an hour I could join -her, did I not fear being questioned, detected, and conveyed -back to Marseilles What can I do? What story can I invent? -under pretext of trading along the coast, these men, who are -in reality smugglers, will prefer selling me to doing a good -action. I must wait. But I cannot I am starving. In a few -hours my strength will be utterly exhausted besides, -perhaps I have not been missed at the fortress. I can pass -as one of the sailors wrecked last night. My story will be -accepted, for there is no one left to contradict me." -As he spoke, Dantes looked toward the spot where the -fishingvessel had been wrecked, and started. The red cap of -one of the sailors hung to a point of the rock and some -timbers that had formed part of the vessel's keel, floated -at the foot of the crag. In an instant Dantes' plan was -formed. He swam to the cap, placed it on his head, seized -one of the timbers, and struck out so as to cut across the -course the vessel was taking. -"I am saved" murmured he. And this conviction restored his -strength. -He soon saw that the vessel, with the wind dead ahead, was -tacking between the Chateau d'If and the tower of Planier. -For an instant he feared lest, instead of keeping in shore, -she should stand out to sea but he soon saw that she would -pass, like most vessels bound for Italy, between the islands -of Jaros and Calaseraigne. However, the vessel and the -swimmer insensibly neared one another, and in one of its -tacks the tartan bore down within a quarter of a mile of -him. He rose on the waves, making signs of distress but no -one on board saw him, and the vessel stood on another tack. -Dantes would have shouted, but he knew that the wind would -drown his voice. -It was then he rejoiced at his precaution in taking the -timber, for without it he would have been unable, perhaps, -to reach the vessel certainly to return to shore, should -he be unsuccessful in attracting attention. -Dantes, though almost sure as to what course the vessel -would take, had yet watched it anxiously until it tacked and -stood towards him. Then he advanced but before they could -meet, the vessel again changed her course. By a violent -effort he rose half out of the water, waving his cap, and -uttering a loud shout peculiar to sailers. This time he was -both seen and heard, and the tartan instantly steered -towards him. At the same time, he saw they were about to -lower the boat. -An instant after, the boat, rowed by two men, advanced -rapidly towards him. Dantes let go of the timber, which he -now thought to be useless, and swam vigorously to meet them. -But he had reckoned too much upon his strength, and then he -realized how serviceable the timber had been to him. His -arms became stiff, his legs lost their flexibility, and he -was almost breathless. -He shouted again. The two sailors redoubled their efforts, -and one of them cried in Italian, "Courage" -The word reached his ear as a wave which he no longer had -the strength to surmount passed over his head. He rose again -to the surface, struggled with the last desperate effort of -a drowning man, uttered a third cry, and felt himself -sinking, as if the fatal cannon shot were again tied to his -feet. The water passed over his head, and the sky turned -gray. A convulsive movement again brought him to the -surface. He felt himself seized by the hair, then he saw and -heard nothing. He had fainted. -When he opened his eyes Dantes found himself on the deck of -the tartan. His first care was to see what course they were -taking. They were rapidly leaving the Chateau d'If behind. -Dantes was so exhausted that the exclamation of joy he -uttered was mistaken for a sigh. -As we have said, he was lying on the deck. A sailor was -rubbing his limbs with a woollen cloth another, whom he -recognized as the one who had cried out "Courage" held a -gourd full of rum to his mouth while the third, an old -sailer, at once the pilot and captain, looked on with that -egotistical pity men feel for a misfortune that they have -escaped yesterday, and which may overtake them tomorrow. -A few drops of the rum restored suspended animation, while -the friction of his limbs restored their elasticity. -"Who are you?" said the pilot in bad French. -"I am," replied Dantes, in bad Italian, "a Maltese sailor. -We were coming from Syracuse laden with grain. The storm of -last night overtook us at Cape Morgion, and we were wrecked -on these rocks." -"Where do you come from?" -"From these rocks that I had the good luck to cling to while -our captain and the rest of the crew were all lost. I saw -your vessel, and fearful of being left to perish on the -desolate island, I swam off on a piece of wreckage to try -and intercept your course. You have saved my life, and I -thank you," continued Dantes. "I was lost when one of your -sailors caught hold of my hair." -"It was I," said a sailor of a frank and manly appearance -"and it was time, for you were sinking." -"Yes," returned Dantes, holding out his hand, "I thank you -again." -"I almost hesitated, though," replied the sailor "you -looked more like a brigand than an honest man, with your -beard six inches, and your hair a foot long." Dantes -recollected that his hair and beard had not been cut all the -time he was at the Chateau d'If. -"Yes," said he, "I made a vow, to our Lady of the Grotto not -to cut my hair or beard for ten years if I were saved in a -moment of danger but today the vow expires." -"Now what are we to do with you?" said the captain. -"Alas, anything you please. My captain is dead I have -barely escaped but I am a good sailor. Leave me at the -first port you make I shall be sure to find employment." -"Do you know the Mediterranean?" -"I have sailed over it since my childhood." -"You know the best harbors?" -"There are few ports that I could not enter or leave with a -bandage over my eyes." -"I say, captain," said the sailor who had cried "Courage" -to Dantes, "if what he says is true, what hinders his -staying with us?" -"If he says true," said the captain doubtingly. "But in his -present condition he will promise anything, and take his -chance of keeping it afterwards." -"I will do more than I promise," said Dantes. -"We shall see," returned the other, smiling. -"Where are you going?" asked Dantes. -"To Leghorn." -"Then why, instead of tacking so frequently, do you not sail -nearer the wind?" -"Because we should run straight on to the Island of Rion." -"You shall pass it by twenty fathoms." -"Take the helm, and let us see what you know." The young man -took the helm, felt to see if the vessel answered the rudder -promptly and seeing that, without being a firstrate sailer, -she yet was tolerably obedient, -"To the sheets," said he. The four seamen, who composed the -crew, obeyed, while the pilot looked on. "Haul taut." -They obeyed. -"Belay." This order was also executed and the vessel -passed, as Dantes had predicted, twenty fathoms to windward. -"Bravo" said the captain. -"Bravo" repeated the sailors. And they all looked with -astonishment at this man whose eye now disclosed an -intelligence and his body a vigor they had not thought him -capable of showing. -"You see," said Dantes, quitting the helm, "I shall be of -some use to you, at least during the voyage. If you do not -want me at Leghorn, you can leave me there, and I will pay -you out of the first wages I get, for my food and the -clothes you lend me." -"Ah," said the captain, "we can agree very well, if you are -reasonable." -"Give me what you give the others, and it will be all -right," returned Dantes. -"That's not fair," said the seaman who had saved Dantes -"for you know more than we do." -"What is that to you, Jacopo?" returned the Captain. "Every -one is free to ask what he pleases." -"That's true," replied Jacopo "I only make a remark." -"Well, you would do much better to find him a jacket and a -pair of trousers, if you have them." -"No," said Jacopo "but I have a shirt and a pair of -trousers." -"That is all I want," interrupted Dantes. Jacopo dived into -the hold and soon returned with what Edmond wanted. -"Now, then, do you wish for anything else?" said the patron. -"A piece of bread and another glass of the capital rum I -tasted, for I have not eaten or drunk for a long time." He -had not tasted food for forty hours. A piece of bread was -brought, and Jacopo offered him the gourd. -"Larboard your helm," cried the captain to the steersman. -Dantes glanced that way as he lifted the gourd to his mouth -then paused with hand in midair. -"Hollo what's the matter at the Chateau d'If?" said the -captain. -A small white cloud, which had attracted Dantes' attention, -crowned the summit of the bastion of the Chateau d'If. At -the same moment the faint report of a gun was heard. The -sailors looked at one another. -"What is this?" asked the captain. -"A prisoner has escaped from the Chateau d'If, and they are -firing the alarm gun," replied Dantes. The captain glanced -at him, but he had lifted the rum to his lips and was -drinking it with so much composure, that suspicions, if the -captain had any, died away. -"At any rate," murmured he, "if it be, so much the better, -for I have made a rare acquisition." Under pretence of being -fatigued, Dantes asked to take the helm the steersman, glad -to be relieved, looked at the captain, and the latter by a -sign indicated that he might abandon it to his new comrade. -Dantes could thus keep his eyes on Marseilles. -"What is the day of the month?" asked he of Jacopo, who sat -down beside him. -"The th of February." -"In what year?" -"In what year you ask me in what year?" -"Yes," replied the young man, "I ask you in what year" -"You have forgotten then?" -"I got such a fright last night," replied Dantes, smiling, -"that I have almost lost my memory. I ask you what year is -it?" -"The year ," returned Jacopo. It was fourteen years day -for day since Dantes' arrest. He was nineteen when he -entered the Chateau d'If he was thirtythree when he -escaped. A sorrowful smile passed over his face he asked -himself what had become of Mercedes, who must believe him -dead. Then his eyes lighted up with hatred as he thought of -the three men who had caused him so long and wretched a -captivity. He renewed against Danglars, Fernand, and -Villefort the oath of implacable vengeance he had made in -his dungeon. This oath was no longer a vain menace for the -fastest sailer in the Mediterranean would have been unable -to overtake the little tartan, that with every stitch of -canvas set was flying before the wind to Leghorn. -Chapter -The Smugglers. -Dantes had not been a day on board before he had a very -clear idea of the men with whom his lot had been cast. -Without having been in the school of the Abbe Faria, the -worthy master of The Young Amelia the name of the Genoese -tartan knew a smattering of all the tongues spoken on the -shores of that large lake called the Mediterranean, from the -Arabic to the Provencal, and this, while it spared him -interpreters, persons always troublesome and frequently -indiscreet, gave him great facilities of communication, -either with the vessels he met at sea, with the small boats -sailing along the coast, or with the people without name, -country, or occupation, who are always seen on the quays of -seaports, and who live by hidden and mysterious means which -we must suppose to be a direct gift of providence, as they -have no visible means of support. It is fair to assume that -Dantes was on board a smuggler. -At first the captain had received Dantes on board with a -certain degree of distrust. He was very well known to the -customs officers of the coast and as there was between -these worthies and himself a perpetual battle of wits, he -had at first thought that Dantes might be an emissary of -these industrious guardians of rights and duties, who -perhaps employed this ingenious means of learning some of -the secrets of his trade. But the skilful manner in which -Dantes had handled the lugger had entirely reassured him -and then, when he saw the light plume of smoke floating -above the bastion of the Chateau d'If, and heard the distant -report, he was instantly struck with the idea that he had on -board his vessel one whose coming and going, like that of -kings, was accompanied with salutes of artillery. This made -him less uneasy, it must be owned, than if the newcomer had -proved to be a customs officer but this supposition also -disappeared like the first, when he beheld the perfect -tranquillity of his recruit. -Edmond thus had the advantage of knowing what the owner was, -without the owner knowing who he was and however the old -sailor and his crew tried to "pump" him, they extracted -nothing more from him he gave accurate descriptions of -Naples and Malta, which he knew as well as Marseilles, and -held stoutly to his first story. Thus the Genoese, subtle as -he was, was duped by Edmond, in whose favor his mild -demeanor, his nautical skill, and his admirable -dissimulation, pleaded. Moreover, it is possible that the -Genoese was one of those shrewd persons who know nothing but -what they should know, and believe nothing but what they -should believe. -In this state of mutual understanding, they reached Leghorn. -Here Edmond was to undergo another trial he was to find out -whether he could recognize himself, as he had not seen his -own face for fourteen years. He had preserved a tolerably -good remembrance of what the youth had been, and was now to -find out what the man had become. His comrades believed that -his vow was fulfilled. As he had twenty times touched at -Leghorn, he remembered a barber in St. Ferdinand Street he -went there to have his beard and hair cut. The barber gazed -in amazement at this man with the long, thick and black hair -and beard, which gave his head the appearance of one of -Titian's portraits. At this period it was not the fashion to -wear so large a beard and hair so long now a barber would -only be surprised if a man gifted with such advantages -should consent voluntarily to deprive himself of them. The -Leghorn barber said nothing and went to work. -When the operation was concluded, and Edmond felt that his -chin was completely smooth, and his hair reduced to its -usual length, he asked for a handglass. He was now, as we -have said, threeandthirty years of age, and his fourteen -years' imprisonment had produced a great transformation in -his appearance. Dantes had entered the Chateau d'If with the -round, open, smiling face of a young and happy man, with -whom the early paths of life have been smooth, and who -anticipates a future corresponding with his past. This was -now all changed. The oval face was lengthened, his smiling -mouth had assumed the firm and marked lines which betoken -resolution his eyebrows were arched beneath a brow furrowed -with thought his eyes were full of melancholy, and from -their depths occasionally sparkled gloomy fires of -misanthropy and hatred his complexion, so long kept from -the sun, had now that pale color which produces, when the -features are encircled with black hair, the aristocratic -beauty of the man of the north the profound learning he had -acquired had besides diffused over his features a refined -intellectual expression and he had also acquired, being -naturally of a goodly stature, that vigor which a frame -possesses which has so long concentrated all its force -within itself. -To the elegance of a nervous and slight form had succeeded -the solidity of a rounded and muscular figure. As to his -voice, prayers, sobs, and imprecations had changed it so -that at times it was of a singularly penetrating sweetness, -and at others rough and almost hoarse. Moreover, from being -so long in twilight or darkness, his eyes had acquired the -faculty of distinguishing objects in the night, common to -the hyena and the wolf. Edmond smiled when he beheld -himself it was impossible that his best friend if, -indeed, he had any friend left could recognize him he -could not recognize himself. -The master of The Young Amelia, who was very desirous of -retaining amongst his crew a man of Edmond's value, had -offered to advance him funds out of his future profits, -which Edmond had accepted. His next care on leaving the -barber's who had achieved his first metamorphosis was to -enter a shop and buy a complete sailor's suit a garb, as -we all know, very simple, and consisting of white trousers, -a striped shirt, and a cap. It was in this costume, and -bringing back to Jacopo the shirt and trousers he had lent -him, that Edmond reappeared before the captain of the -lugger, who had made him tell his story over and over again -before he could believe him, or recognize in the neat and -trim sailor the man with thick and matted beard, hair -tangled with seaweed, and body soaking in seabrine, whom he -had picked up naked and nearly drowned. Attracted by his -prepossessing appearance, he renewed his offers of an -engagement to Dantes but Dantes, who had his own projects, -would not agree for a longer time than three months. -The Young Amelia had a very active crew, very obedient to -their captain, who lost as little time as possible. He had -scarcely been a week at Leghorn before the hold of his -vessel was filled with printed muslins, contraband cottons, -English powder, and tobacco on which the excise had -forgotten to put its mark. The master was to get all this -out of Leghorn free of duties, and land it on the shores of -Corsica, where certain speculators undertook to forward the -cargo to France. They sailed Edmond was again cleaving the -azure sea which had been the first horizon of his youth, and -which he had so often dreamed of in prison. He left Gorgone -on his right and La Pianosa on his left, and went towards -the country of Paoli and Napoleon. The next morning going on -deck, as he always did at an early hour, the patron found -Dantes leaning against the bulwarks gazing with intense -earnestness at a pile of granite rocks, which the rising sun -tinged with rosy light. It was the Island of Monte Cristo. -The Young Amelia left it threequarters of a league to the -larboard, and kept on for Corsica. -Dantes thought, as they passed so closely to the island -whose name was so interesting to him, that he had only to -leap into the sea and in half an hour be at the promised -land. But then what could he do without instruments to -discover his treasure, without arms to defend himself? -Besides, what would the sailors say? What would the patron -think? He must wait. -Fortunately, Dantes had learned how to wait he had waited -fourteen years for his liberty, and now he was free he could -wait at least six months or a year for wealth. Would he not -have accepted liberty without riches if it had been offered -to him? Besides, were not those riches chimerical? -offspring of the brain of the poor Abbe Faria, had they not -died with him? It is true, the letter of the Cardinal Spada -was singularly circumstantial, and Dantes repeated it to -himself, from one end to the other, for he had not forgotten -a word. -Evening came, and Edmond saw the island tinged with the -shades of twilight, and then disappear in the darkness from -all eyes but his own, for he, with vision accustomed to the -gloom of a prison, continued to behold it last of all, for -he remained alone upon deck. The next morn broke off the -coast of Aleria all day they coasted, and in the evening -saw fires lighted on land the position of these was no -doubt a signal for landing, for a ship's lantern was hung up -at the masthead instead of the streamer, and they came to -within a gunshot of the shore. Dantes noticed that the -captain of The Young Amelia had, as he neared the land, -mounted two small culverins, which, without making much -noise, can throw a four ounce ball a thousand paces or so. -But on this occasion the precaution was superfluous, and -everything proceeded with the utmost smoothness and -politeness. Four shallops came off with very little noise -alongside the lugger, which, no doubt, in acknowledgement of -the compliment, lowered her own shallop into the sea, and -the five boats worked so well that by two o'clock in the -morning all the cargo was out of The Young Amelia and on -terra firma. The same night, such a man of regularity was -the patron of The Young Amelia, the profits were divided, -and each man had a hundred Tuscan livres, or about eighty -francs. But the voyage was not ended. They turned the -bowsprit towards Sardinia, where they intended to take in a -cargo, which was to replace what had been discharged. The -second operation was as successful as the first, The Young -Amelia was in luck. This new cargo was destined for the -coast of the Duchy of Lucca, and consisted almost entirely -of Havana cigars, sherry, and Malaga wines. -There they had a bit of a skirmish in getting rid of the -duties the excise was, in truth, the everlasting enemy of -the patron of The Young Amelia. A customs officer was laid -low, and two sailors wounded Dantes was one of the latter, -a ball having touched him in the left shoulder. Dantes was -almost glad of this affray, and almost pleased at being -wounded, for they were rude lessons which taught him with -what eye he could view danger, and with what endurance he -could bear suffering. He had contemplated danger with a -smile, and when wounded had exclaimed with the great -philosopher, "Pain, thou art not an evil." He had, moreover, -looked upon the customs officer wounded to death, and, -whether from heat of blood produced by the encounter, or the -chill of human sentiment, this sight had made but slight -impression upon him. Dantes was on the way he desired to -follow, and was moving towards the end he wished to achieve -his heart was in a fair way of petrifying in his bosom. -Jacopo, seeing him fall, had believed him killed, and -rushing towards him raised him up, and then attended to him -with all the kindness of a devoted comrade. -This world was not then so good as Doctor Pangloss believed -it, neither was it so wicked as Dantes thought it, since -this man, who had nothing to expect from his comrade but the -inheritance of his share of the prizemoney, manifested so -much sorrow when he saw him fall. Fortunately, as we have -said, Edmond was only wounded, and with certain herbs -gathered at certain seasons, and sold to the smugglers by -the old Sardinian women, the wound soon closed. Edmond then -resolved to try Jacopo, and offered him in return for his -attention a share of his prizemoney, but Jacopo refused it -indignantly. -As a result of the sympathetic devotion which Jacopo had -from the first bestowed on Edmond, the latter was moved to a -certain degree of affection. But this sufficed for Jacopo, -who instinctively felt that Edmond had a right to -superiority of position a superiority which Edmond had -concealed from all others. And from this time the kindness -which Edmond showed him was enough for the brave seaman. -Then in the long days on board ship, when the vessel, -gliding on with security over the azure sea, required no -care but the hand of the helmsman, thanks to the favorable -winds that swelled her sails, Edmond, with a chart in his -hand, became the instructor of Jacopo, as the poor Abbe -Faria had been his tutor. He pointed out to him the bearings -of the coast, explained to him the variations of the -compass, and taught him to read in that vast book opened -over our heads which they call heaven, and where God writes -in azure with letters of diamonds. And when Jacopo inquired -of him, "What is the use of teaching all these things to a -poor sailor like me?" Edmond replied, "Who knows? You may -one day be the captain of a vessel. Your fellowcountryman, -Bonaparte, became emperor." We had forgotten to say that -Jacopo was a Corsican. -Two months and a half elapsed in these trips, and Edmond had -become as skilful a coaster as he had been a hardy seaman -he had formed an acquaintance with all the smugglers on the -coast, and learned all the Masonic signs by which these half -pirates recognize each other. He had passed and repassed -his Island of Monte Cristo twenty times, but not once had he -found an opportunity of landing there. He then formed a -resolution. As soon as his engagement with the patron of The -Young Amelia ended, he would hire a small vessel on his own -account for in his several voyages he had amassed a -hundred piastres and under some pretext land at the -Island of Monte Cristo. Then he would be free to make his -researches, not perhaps entirely at liberty, for he would be -doubtless watched by those who accompanied him. But in this -world we must risk something. Prison had made Edmond -prudent, and he was desirous of running no risk whatever. -But in vain did he rack his imagination fertile as it was, -he could not devise any plan for reaching the island without -companionship. -Dantes was tossed about on these doubts and wishes, when the -patron, who had great confidence in him, and was very -desirous of retaining him in his service, took him by the -arm one evening and led him to a tavern on the Via del' -Oglio, where the leading smugglers of Leghorn used to -congregate and discuss affairs connected with their trade. -Already Dantes had visited this maritime Bourse two or three -times, and seeing all these hardy freetraders, who supplied -the whole coast for nearly two hundred leagues in extent, he -had asked himself what power might not that man attain who -should give the impulse of his will to all these contrary -and diverging minds. This time it was a great matter that -was under discussion, connected with a vessel laden with -Turkey carpets, stuffs of the Levant, and cashmeres. It was -necessary to find some neutral ground on which an exchange -could be made, and then to try and land these goods on the -coast of France. If the venture was successful the profit -would be enormous, there would be a gain of fifty or sixty -piastres each for the crew. -The patron of The Young Amelia proposed as a place of -landing the Island of Monte Cristo, which being completely -deserted, and having neither soldiers nor revenue officers, -seemed to have been placed in the midst of the ocean since -the time of the heathen Olympus by Mercury, the god of -merchants and robbers, classes of mankind which we in modern -times have separated if not made distinct, but which -antiquity appears to have included in the same category. At -the mention of Monte Cristo Dantes started with joy he rose -to conceal his emotion, and took a turn around the smoky -tavern, where all the languages of the known world were -jumbled in a lingua franca. When he again joined the two -persons who had been discussing the matter, it had been -decided that they should touch at Monte Cristo and set out -on the following night. Edmond, being consulted, was of -opinion that the island afforded every possible security, -and that great enterprises to be well done should be done -quickly. Nothing then was altered in the plan, and orders -were given to get under weigh next night, and, wind and -weather permitting, to make the neutral island by the -following day. -Chapter -The Island of Monte Cristo. -Thus, at length, by one of the unexpected strokes of fortune -which sometimes befall those who have for a long time been -the victims of an evil destiny, Dantes was about to secure -the opportunity he wished for, by simple and natural means, -and land on the island without incurring any suspicion. One -night more and he would be on his way. -The night was one of feverish distraction, and in its -progress visions good and evil passed through Dantes' mind. -If he closed his eyes, he saw Cardinal Spada's letter -written on the wall in characters of flame if he slept -for a moment the wildest dreams haunted his brain. He -ascended into grottos paved with emeralds, with panels of -rubies, and the roof glowing with diamond stalactites. -Pearls fell drop by drop, as subterranean waters filter in -their caves. Edmond, amazed, wonderstruck, filled his -pockets with the radiant gems and then returned to daylight, -when be discovered that his prizes had all changed into -common pebbles. He then endeavored to reenter the -marvellous grottos, but they had suddenly receded, and now -the path became a labyrinth, and then the entrance vanished, -and in vain did he tax his memory for the magic and -mysterious word which opened the splendid caverns of Ali -Baba to the Arabian fisherman. All was useless, the treasure -disappeared, and had again reverted to the genii from whom -for a moment he had hoped to carry it off. The day came at -length, and was almost as feverish as the night had been, -but it brought reason to the aid of imagination, and Dantes -was then enabled to arrange a plan which had hitherto been -vague and unsettled in his brain. Night came, and with it -the preparation for departure, and these preparations served -to conceal Dantes' agitation. He had by degrees assumed such -authority over his companions that he was almost like a -commander on board and as his orders were always clear, -distinct, and easy of execution, his comrades obeyed him -with celerity and pleasure. -The old patron did not interfere, for he too had recognized -the superiority of Dantes over the crew and himself. He saw -in the young man his natural successor, and regretted that -he had not a daughter, that he might have bound Edmond to -him by a more secure alliance. At seven o'clock in the -evening all was ready, and at ten minutes past seven they -doubled the lighthouse just as the beacon was kindled. The -sea was calm, and, with a fresh breeze from the southeast, -they sailed beneath a bright blue sky, in which God also -lighted up in turn his beacon lights, each of which is a -world. Dantes told them that all hands might turn in, and he -would take the helm. When the Maltese for so they called -Dantes had said this, it was sufficient, and all went to -their bunks contentedly. This frequently happened. Dantes, -cast from solitude into the world, frequently experienced an -imperious desire for solitude and what solitude is more -complete, or more poetical, than that of a ship floating in -isolation on the sea during the obscurity of the night, in -the silence of immensity, and under the eye of heaven? -Now this solitude was peopled with his thoughts, the night -lighted up by his illusions, and the silence animated by his -anticipations. When the patron awoke, the vessel was -hurrying on with every sail set, and every sail full with -the breeze. They were making nearly ten knots an hour. The -Island of Monte Cristo loomed large in the horizon. Edmond -resigned the lugger to the master's care, and went and lay -down in his hammock but, in spite of a sleepless night, he -could not close his eyes for a moment. Two hours afterwards -he came on deck, as the boat was about to double the Island -of Elba. They were just abreast of Mareciana, and beyond the -flat but verdant Island of La Pianosa. The peak of Monte -Cristo reddened by the burning sun, was seen against the -azure sky. Dantes ordered the helmsman to put down his helm, -in order to leave La Pianosa to starboard, as he knew that -he should shorten his course by two or three knots. About -five o'clock in the evening the island was distinct, and -everything on it was plainly perceptible, owing to that -clearness of the atmosphere peculiar to the light which the -rays of the sun cast at its setting. -Edmond gazed very earnestly at the mass of rocks which gave -out all the variety of twilight colors, from the brightest -pink to the deepest blue and from time to time his cheeks -flushed, his brow darkened, and a mist passed over his eyes. -Never did gamester, whose whole fortune is staked on one -cast of the die, experience the anguish which Edmond felt in -his paroxysms of hope. Night came, and at ten o'clock they -anchored. The Young Amelia was first at the rendezvous. In -spite of his usual command over himself, Dantes could not -restrain his impetuosity. He was the first to jump on shore -and had he dared, he would, like Lucius Brutus, have "kissed -his mother earth." It was dark, but at eleven o'clock the -moon rose in the midst of the ocean, whose every wave she -silvered, and then, "ascending high," played in floods of -pale light on the rocky hills of this second Pelion. -The island was familiar to the crew of The Young Amelia, -it was one of her regular haunts. As to Dantes, he had -passed it on his voyage to and from the Levant, but never -touched at it. He questioned Jacopo. "Where shall we pass -the night?" he inquired. -"Why, on board the tartan," replied the sailor. -"Should we not do better in the grottos?" -"What grottos?" -"Why, the grottos caves of the island." -"I do not know of any grottos," replied Jacopo. The cold -sweat sprang forth on Dantes' brow. -"What, are there no grottos at Monte Cristo?" he asked. -"None." -For a moment Dantes was speechless then he remembered that -these caves might have been filled up by some accident, or -even stopped up, for the sake of greater security, by -Cardinal Spada. The point was, then, to discover the hidden -entrance. It was useless to search at night, and Dantes -therefore delayed all investigation until the morning. -Besides, a signal made half a league out at sea, and to -which The Young Amelia replied by a similar signal, -indicated that the moment for business had come. The boat -that now arrived, assured by the answering signal that all -was well, soon came in sight, white and silent as a phantom, -and cast anchor within a cable's length of shore. -Then the landing began. Dantes reflected, as he worked, on -the shout of joy which, with a single word, he could evoke -from all these men, if he gave utterance to the one -unchanging thought that pervaded his heart but, far from -disclosing this precious secret, he almost feared that he -had already said too much, and by his restlessness and -continual questions, his minute observations and evident -preoccupation, aroused suspicions. Fortunately, as regarded -this circumstance at least, his painful past gave to his -countenance an indelible sadness, and the glimmerings of -gayety seen beneath this cloud were indeed but transitory. -No one had the slightest suspicion and when next day, -taking a fowlingpiece, powder, and shot, Dantes declared -his intention to go and kill some of the wild goats that -were seen springing from rock to rock, his wish was -construed into a love of sport, or a desire for solitude. -However, Jacopo insisted on following him, and Dantes did -not oppose this, fearing if he did so that he might incur -distrust. Scarcely, however, had they gone a quarter of a -league when, having killed a kid, he begged Jacopo to take -it to his comrades, and request them to cook it, and when -ready to let him know by firing a gun. This and some dried -fruits and a flask of Monte Pulciano, was the bill of fare. -Dantes went on, looking from time to time behind and around -about him. Having reached the summit of a rock, he saw, a -thousand feet beneath him, his companions, whom Jacopo had -rejoined, and who were all busy preparing the repast which -Edmond's skill as a marksman had augmented with a capital -dish. -Edmond looked at them for a moment with the sad and gentle -smile of a man superior to his fellows. "In two hours' -time," said he, "these persons will depart richer by fifty -piastres each, to go and risk their lives again by -endeavoring to gain fifty more then they will return with a -fortune of six hundred francs, and waste this treasure in -some city with the pride of sultans and the insolence of -nabobs. At this moment hope makes me despise their riches, -which seem to me contemptible. Yet perchance tomorrow -deception will so act on me, that I shall, on compulsion, -consider such a contemptible possession as the utmost -happiness. Oh, no" exclaimed Edmond, "that will not be. The -wise, unerring Faria could not be mistaken in this one -thing. Besides, it were better to die than to continue to -lead this low and wretched life." Thus Dantes, who but three -months before had no desire but liberty had now not liberty -enough, and panted for wealth. The cause was not in Dantes, -but in providence, who, while limiting the power of man, has -filled him with boundless desires. -Meanwhile, by a cleft between two walls of rock, following a -path worn by a torrent, and which, in all human probability, -human foot had never before trod, Dantes approached the spot -where he supposed the grottos must have existed. Keeping -along the shore, and examining the smallest object with -serious attention, he thought he could trace, on certain -rocks, marks made by the hand of man. -Time, which encrusts all physical substances with its mossy -mantle, as it invests all things of the mind with -forgetfulness, seemed to have respected these signs, which -apparently had been made with some degree of regularity, and -probably with a definite purpose. Occasionally the marks -were hidden under tufts of myrtle, which spread into large -bushes laden with blossoms, or beneath parasitical lichen. -So Edmond had to separate the branches or brush away the -moss to know where the guidemarks were. The sight of marks -renewed Edmond fondest hopes. Might it not have been the -cardinal himself who had first traced them, in order that -they might serve as a guide for his nephew in the event of a -catastrophe, which he could not foresee would have been so -complete. This solitary place was precisely suited to the -requirements of a man desirous of burying treasure. Only, -might not these betraying marks have attracted other eyes -than those for whom they were made? and had the dark and -wondrous island indeed faithfully guarded its precious -secret? -It seemed, however, to Edmond, who was hidden from his -comrades by the inequalities of the ground, that at sixty -paces from the harbor the marks ceased nor did they -terminate at any grotto. A large round rock, placed solidly -on its base, was the only spot to which they seemed to lead. -Edmond concluded that perhaps instead of having reached the -end of the route he had only explored its beginning, and he -therefore turned round and retraced his steps. -Meanwhile his comrades had prepared the repast, had got some -water from a spring, spread out the fruit and bread, and -cooked the kid. Just at the moment when they were taking the -dainty animal from the spit, they saw Edmond springing with -the boldness of a chamois from rock to rock, and they fired -the signal agreed upon. The sportsman instantly changed his -direction, and ran quickly towards them. But even while they -watched his daring progress, Edmond's foot slipped, and they -saw him stagger on the edge of a rock and disappear. They -all rushed towards him, for all loved Edmond in spite of his -superiority yet Jacopo reached him first. -He found Edmond lying prone, bleeding, and almost senseless. -He had rolled down a declivity of twelve or fifteen feet. -They poured a little rum down his throat, and this remedy -which had before been so beneficial to him, produced the -same effect as formerly. Edmond opened his eyes, complained -of great pain in his knee, a feeling of heaviness in his -head, and severe pains in his loins. They wished to carry -him to the shore but when they touched him, although under -Jacopo's directions, he declared, with heavy groans, that he -could not bear to be moved. -It may be supposed that Dantes did not now think of his -dinner, but he insisted that his comrades, who had not his -reasons for fasting, should have their meal. As for himself, -he declared that he had only need of a little rest, and that -when they returned he should be easier. The sailors did not -require much urging. They were hungry, and the smell of the -roasted kid was very savory, and your tars are not very -ceremonious. An hour afterwards they returned. All that -Edmond had been able to do was to drag himself about a dozen -paces forward to lean against a mossgrown rock. -But, instead of growing easier, Dantes' pains appeared to -increase in violence. The old patron, who was obliged to -sail in the morning in order to land his cargo on the -frontiers of Piedmont and France, between Nice and Frejus, -urged Dantes to try and rise. Edmond made great exertions in -order to comply but at each effort he fell back, moaning -and turning pale. -"He has broken his ribs," said the commander, in a low -voice. "No matter he is an excellent fellow, and we must -not leave him. We will try and carry him on board the -tartan." Dantes declared, however, that he would rather die -where he was than undergo the agony which the slightest -movement cost him. "Well," said the patron, "let what may -happen, it shall never be said that we deserted a good -comrade like you. We will not go till evening." This very -much astonished the sailors, although, not one opposed it. -The patron was so strict that this was the first time they -had ever seen him give up an enterprise, or even delay in -its execution. Dantes would not allow that any such -infraction of regular and proper rules should be made in his -favor. "No, no," he said to the patron, "I was awkward, and -it is just that I pay the penalty of my clumsiness. Leave me -a small supply of biscuit, a gun, powder, and balls, to kill -the kids or defend myself at need, and a pickaxe, that I may -build a shelter if you delay in coming back for me." -"But you'll die of hunger," said the patron. -"I would rather do so," was Edmond reply, "than suffer the -inexpressible agonies which the slightest movement causes -me." The patron turned towards his vessel, which was rolling -on the swell in the little harbor, and, with sails partly -set, would be ready for sea when her toilet should be -completed. -"What are we to do, Maltese?" asked the captain. "We cannot -leave you here so, and yet we cannot stay." -"Go, go" exclaimed Dantes. -"We shall be absent at least a week," said the patron, "and -then we must run out of our course to come here and take you -up again." -"Why," said Dantes, "if in two or three days you hail any -fishingboat, desire them to come here to me. I will pay -twentyfive piastres for my passage back to Leghorn. If you -do not come across one, return for me." The patron shook his -head. -"Listen, Captain Baldi there's one way of settling this," -said Jacopo. "Do you go, and I will stay and take care of -the wounded man." -"And give up your share of the venture," said Edmond, "to -remain with me?" -"Yes," said Jacopo, "and without any hesitation." -"You are a good fellow and a kindhearted messmate," replied -Edmond, "and heaven will recompense you for your generous -intentions but I do not wish any one to stay with me. A day -or two of rest will set me up, and I hope I shall find among -the rocks certain herbs most excellent for bruises." -A peculiar smile passed over Dantes' lips he squeezed -Jacopo's hand warmly, but nothing could shake his -determination to remain and remain alone. The smugglers -left with Edmond what he had requested and set sail, but not -without turning about several times, and each time making -signs of a cordial farewell, to which Edmond replied with -his hand only, as if he could not move the rest of his body. -Then, when they had disappeared, he said with a smile, -"'Tis strange that it should be among such men that we find -proofs of friendship and devotion." Then he dragged himself -cautiously to the top of a rock, from which he had a full -view of the sea, and thence he saw the tartan complete her -preparations for sailing, weigh anchor, and, balancing -herself as gracefully as a waterfowl ere it takes to the -wing, set sail. At the end of an hour she was completely out -of sight at least, it was impossible for the wounded man to -see her any longer from the spot where he was. Then Dantes -rose more agile and light than the kid among the myrtles and -shrubs of these wild rocks, took his gun in one hand, his -pickaxe in the other, and hastened towards the rock on which -the marks he had noted terminated. "And now," he exclaimed, -remembering the tale of the Arabian fisherman, which Faria -had related to him, "now, open sesame" -Chapter -The Secret Cave. -The sun had nearly reached the meridian, and his scorching -rays fell full on the rocks, which seemed themselves -sensible of the heat. Thousands of grasshoppers, hidden in -the bushes, chirped with a monotonous and dull note the -leaves of the myrtle and olive trees waved and rustled in -the wind. At every step that Edmond took he disturbed the -lizards glittering with the hues of the emerald afar off he -saw the wild goats bounding from crag to crag. In a word, -the island was inhabited, yet Edmond felt himself alone, -guided by the hand of God. He felt an indescribable -sensation somewhat akin to dread that dread of the -daylight which even in the desert makes us fear we are -watched and observed. This feeling was so strong that at the -moment when Edmond was about to begin his labor, he stopped, -laid down his pickaxe, seized his gun, mounted to the summit -of the highest rock, and from thence gazed round in every -direction. -But it was not upon Corsica, the very houses of which he -could distinguish or on Sardinia or on the Island of Elba, -with its historical associations or upon the almost -imperceptible line that to the experienced eye of a sailor -alone revealed the coast of Genoa the proud, and Leghorn the -commercial, that he gazed. It was at the brigantine that had -left in the morning, and the tartan that had just set sail, -that Edmond fixed his eyes. The first was just disappearing -in the straits of Bonifacio the other, following an -opposite direction, was about to round the Island of -Corsica. This sight reassured him. He then looked at the -objects near him. He saw that he was on the highest point of -the island, a statue on this vast pedestal of granite, -nothing human appearing in sight, while the blue ocean beat -against the base of the island, and covered it with a fringe -of foam. Then he descended with cautious and slow step, for -he dreaded lest an accident similar to that he had so -adroitly feigned should happen in reality. -Dantes, as we have said, had traced the marks along the -rocks, and he had noticed that they led to a small creek. -which was hidden like the bath of some ancient nymph. This -creek was sufficiently wide at its mouth, and deep in the -centre, to admit of the entrance of a small vessel of the -lugger class, which would be perfectly concealed from -observation. -Then following the clew that, in the hands of the Abbe -Faria, had been so skilfully used to guide him through the -Daedalian labyrinth of probabilities, he thought that the -Cardinal Spada, anxious not to be watched, had entered the -creek, concealed his little barque, followed the line marked -by the notches in the rock, and at the end of it had buried -his treasure. It was this idea that had brought Dantes back -to the circular rock. One thing only perplexed Edmond, and -destroyed his theory. How could this rock, which weighed -several tons, have been lifted to this spot, without the aid -of many men? Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. -Instead of raising it, thought he, they have lowered it. And -he sprang from the rock in order to inspect the base on -which it had formerly stood. He soon perceived that a slope -had been formed, and the rock had slid along this until it -stopped at the spot it now occupied. A large stone had -served as a wedge flints and pebbles had been inserted -around it, so as to conceal the orifice this species of -masonry had been covered with earth, and grass and weeds had -grown there, moss had clung to the stones, myrtlebushes had -taken root, and the old rock seemed fixed to the earth. -Dantes dug away the earth carefully, and detected, or -fancied he detected, the ingenious artifice. He attacked -this wall, cemented by the hand of time, with his pickaxe. -After ten minutes' labor the wall gave way, and a hole large -enough to insert the arm was opened. Dantes went and cut the -strongest olivetree he could find, stripped off its -branches, inserted it in the hole, and used it as a lever. -But the rock was too heavy, and too firmly wedged, to be -moved by any one man, were he Hercules himself. Dantes saw -that he must attack the wedge. But how? He cast his eyes -around, and saw the horn full of powder which his friend -Jacopo had left him. He smiled the infernal invention would -serve him for this purpose. With the aid of his pickaxe, -Dantes, after the manner of a laborsaving pioneer, dug a -mine between the upper rock and the one that supported it, -filled it with powder, then made a match by rolling his -handkerchief in saltpetre. He lighted it and retired. The -explosion soon followed the upper rock was lifted from its -base by the terrific force of the powder the lower one flew -into pieces thousands of insects escaped from the aperture -Dantes had previously formed, and a huge snake, like the -guardian demon of the treasure, rolled himself along in -darkening coils, and disappeared. -Dantes approached the upper rock, which now, without any -support, leaned towards the sea. The intrepid -treasureseeker walked round it, and, selecting the spot -from whence it appeared most susceptible to attack, placed -his lever in one of the crevices, and strained every nerve -to move the mass. The rock, already shaken by the explosion, -tottered on its base. Dantes redoubled his efforts he -seemed like one of the ancient Titans, who uprooted the -mountains to hurl against the father of the gods. The rock -yielded, rolled over, bounded from point to point, and -finally disappeared in the ocean. -On the spot it had occupied was a circular space, exposing -an iron ring let into a square flagstone. Dantes uttered a -cry of joy and surprise never had a first attempt been -crowned with more perfect success. He would fain have -continued, but his knees trembled, and his heart beat so -violently, and his sight became so dim, that he was forced -to pause. This feeling lasted but for a moment. Edmond -inserted his lever in the ring and exerted all his strength -the flagstone yielded, and disclosed steps that descended -until they were lost in the obscurity of a subterraneous -grotto. Any one else would have rushed on with a cry of joy. -Dantes turned pale, hesitated, and reflected. "Come," said -he to himself, "be a man. I am accustomed to adversity. I -must not be cast down by the discovery that I have been -deceived. What, then, would be the use of all I have -suffered? The heart breaks when, after having been elated by -flattering hopes, it sees all its illusions destroyed. Faria -has dreamed this the Cardinal Spada buried no treasure -here perhaps he never came here, or if he did, Caesar -Borgia, the intrepid adventurer, the stealthy and -indefatigable plunderer, has followed him, discovered his -traces, pursued them as I have done, raised the stone, and -descending before me, has left me nothing." He remained -motionless and pensive, his eyes fixed on the gloomy -aperture that was open at his feet. -"Now that I expect nothing, now that I no longer entertain -the slightest hopes, the end of this adventure becomes -simply a matter of curiosity." And he remained again -motionless and thoughtful. -"Yes, yes this is an adventure worthy a place in the varied -career of that royal bandit. This fabulous event formed but -a link in a long chain of marvels. Yes, Borgia has been -here, a torch in one hand, a sword in the other, and within -twenty paces, at the foot of this rock, perhaps two guards -kept watch on land and sea, while their master descended, as -I am about to descend, dispelling the darkness before his -aweinspiring progress." -"But what was the fate of the guards who thus possessed his -secret?" asked Dantes of himself. -"The fate," replied he, smiling, "of those who buried -Alaric." -"Yet, had he come," thought Dantes, "he would have found the -treasure, and Borgia, he who compared Italy to an artichoke, -which he could devour leaf by leaf, knew too well the value -of time to waste it in replacing this rock. I will go down." -Then he descended, a smile on his lips, and murmuring that -last word of human philosophy, "Perhaps" But instead of the -darkness, and the thick and mephitic atmosphere he had -expected to find, Dantes saw a dim and bluish light, which, -as well as the air, entered, not merely by the aperture he -had just formed, but by the interstices and crevices of the -rock which were visible from without, and through which he -could distinguish the blue sky and the waving branches of -the evergreen oaks, and the tendrils of the creepers that -grew from the rocks. After having stood a few minutes in the -cavern, the atmosphere of which was rather warm than damp, -Dantes' eye, habituated as it was to darkness, could pierce -even to the remotest angles of the cavern, which was of -granite that sparkled like diamonds. "Alas," said Edmond, -smiling, "these are the treasures the cardinal has left and -the good abbe, seeing in a dream these glittering walls, has -indulged in fallacious hopes." -But he called to mind the words of the will, which he knew -by heart. "In the farthest angle of the second opening," -said the cardinal's will. He had only found the first -grotto he had now to seek the second. Dantes continued his -search. He reflected that this second grotto must penetrate -deeper into the island he examined the stones, and sounded -one part of the wall where he fancied the opening existed, -masked for precaution's sake. The pickaxe struck for a -moment with a dull sound that drew out of Dantes' forehead -large drops of perspiration. At last it seemed to him that -one part of the wall gave forth a more hollow and deeper -echo he eagerly advanced, and with the quickness of -perception that no one but a prisoner possesses, saw that -there, in all probability, the opening must be. -However, he, like Caesar Borgia, knew the value of time -and, in order to avoid fruitless toil, he sounded all the -other walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the butt -of his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious, -returned to that part of the wall whence issued the -consoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, and -with greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As he -struck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used in -the ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to the -ground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The aperture -of the rock had been closed with stones, then this stucco -had been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantes -struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which entered -someway between the interstices. It was there he must dig. -But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as the -proofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, so -did his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragement -stole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him fresh -strength, deprived him of it the pickaxe descended, or -rather fell he placed it on the ground, passed his hand -over his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging to -himself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no one -was watching him, but in reality because he felt that he was -about to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemed -to cover it with its fiery glance afar off, a few small -fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean. -Dantes had tasted nothing, but he thought not of hunger at -such a moment he hastily swallowed a few drops of rum, and -again entered the cavern. The pickaxe that had seemed so -heavy, was now like a feather in his grasp he seized it, -and attacked the wall. After several blows he perceived that -the stones were not cemented, but had been merely placed one -upon the other, and covered with stucco he inserted the -point of his pickaxe, and using the handle as a lever, with -joy soon saw the stone turn as if on hinges, and fall at his -feet. He had nothing more to do now, but with the iron tooth -of the pickaxe to draw the stones towards him one by one. -The aperture was already sufficiently large for him to -enter, but by waiting, he could still cling to hope, and -retard the certainty of deception. At last, after renewed -hesitation, Dantes entered the second grotto. The second -grotto was lower and more gloomy than the first the air -that could only enter by the newly formed opening had the -mephitic smell Dantes was surprised not to find in the outer -cavern. He waited in order to allow pure air to displace the -foul atmosphere, and then went on. At the left of the -opening was a dark and deep angle. But to Dantes' eye there -was no darkness. He glanced around this second grotto it -was, like the first, empty. -The treasure, if it existed, was buried in this corner. The -time had at length arrived two feet of earth removed, and -Dantes' fate would be decided. He advanced towards the -angle, and summoning all his resolution, attacked the ground -with the pickaxe. At the fifth or sixth blow the pickaxe -struck against an iron substance. Never did funeral knell, -never did alarmbell, produce a greater effect on the -hearer. Had Dantes found nothing he could not have become -more ghastly pale. He again struck his pickaxe into the -earth, and encountered the same resistance, but not the same -sound. "It is a casket of wood bound with iron," thought he. -At this moment a shadow passed rapidly before the opening -Dantes seized his gun, sprang through the opening, and -mounted the stair. A wild goat had passed before the mouth -of the cave, and was feeding at a little distance. This -would have been a favorable occasion to secure his dinner -but Dantes feared lest the report of his gun should attract -attention. -He thought a moment, cut a branch of a resinous tree, -lighted it at the fire at which the smugglers had prepared -their breakfast, and descended with this torch. He wished to -see everything. He approached the hole he had dug, and now, -with the aid of the torch, saw that his pickaxe had in -reality struck against iron and wood. He planted his torch -in the ground and resumed his labor. In an instant a space -three feet long by two feet broad was cleared, and Dantes -could see an oaken coffer, bound with cut steel in the -middle of the lid he saw engraved on a silver plate, which -was still untarnished, the arms of the Spada family viz., -a sword, pale, on an oval shield, like all the Italian -armorial bearings, and surmounted by a cardinal's hat -Dantes easily recognized them, Faria had so often drawn them -for him. There was no longer any doubt the treasure was -there no one would have been at such pains to conceal an -empty casket. In an instant he had cleared every obstacle -away, and he saw successively the lock, placed between two -padlocks, and the two handles at each end, all carved as -things were carved at that epoch, when art rendered the -commonest metals precious. Dantes seized the handles, and -strove to lift the coffer it was impossible. He sought to -open it lock and padlock were fastened these faithful -guardians seemed unwilling to surrender their trust. Dantes -inserted the sharp end of the pickaxe between the coffer and -the lid, and pressing with all his force on the handle, -burst open the fastenings. The hinges yielded in their turn -and fell, still holding in their grasp fragments of the -wood, and the chest was open. -Edmond was seized with vertigo he cocked his gun and laid -it beside him. He then closed his eyes as children do in -order that they may see in the resplendent night of their -own imagination more stars than are visible in the -firmament then he reopened them, and stood motionless with -amazement. Three compartments divided the coffer. In the -first, blazed piles of golden coin in the second, were -ranged bars of unpolished gold, which possessed nothing -attractive save their value in the third, Edmond grasped -handfuls of diamonds, pearls, and rubies, which, as they -fell on one another, sounded like hail against glass. After -having touched, felt, examined these treasures, Edmond -rushed through the caverns like a man seized with frenzy he -leaped on a rock, from whence he could behold the sea. He -was alone alone with these countless, these unheardof -treasures was he awake, or was it but a dream? -He would fain have gazed upon his gold, and yet he had not -strength enough for an instant he leaned his head in his -hands as if to prevent his senses from leaving him, and then -rushed madly about the rocks of Monte Cristo, terrifying the -wild goats and scaring the seafowls with his wild cries and -gestures then he returned, and, still unable to believe the -evidence of his senses, rushed into the grotto, and found -himself before this mine of gold and jewels. This time he -fell on his knees, and, clasping his hands convulsively, -uttered a prayer intelligible to God alone. He soon became -calmer and more happy, for only now did he begin to realize -his felicity. He then set himself to work to count his -fortune. There were a thousand ingots of gold, each weighing -from two to three pounds then he piled up twentyfive -thousand crowns, each worth about eighty francs of our -money, and bearing the effigies of Alexander VI. and his -predecessors and he saw that the complement was not half -empty. And he measured ten double handfuls of pearls, -diamonds, and other gems, many of which, mounted by the most -famous workmen, were valuable beyond their intrinsic worth. -Dantes saw the light gradually disappear, and fearing to be -surprised in the cavern, left it, his gun in his hand. A -piece of biscuit and a small quantity of rum formed his -supper, and he snatched a few hours' sleep, lying over the -mouth of the cave. -It was a night of joy and terror, such as this man of -stupendous emotions had already experienced twice or thrice -in his lifetime. -Chapter -The Unknown. -Day, for which Dantes had so eagerly and impatiently waited -with open eyes, again dawned. With the first light Dantes -resumed his search. Again he climbed the rocky height he had -ascended the previous evening, and strained his view to -catch every peculiarity of the landscape but it wore the -same wild, barren aspect when seen by the rays of the -morning sun which it had done when surveyed by the fading -glimmer of eve. Descending into the grotto, he lifted the -stone, filled his pockets with gems, put the box together as -well and securely as he could, sprinkled fresh sand over the -spot from which it had been taken, and then carefully trod -down the earth to give it everywhere a uniform appearance -then, quitting the grotto, he replaced the stone, heaping on -it broken masses of rocks and rough fragments of crumbling -granite, filling the interstices with earth, into which he -deftly inserted rapidly growing plants, such as the wild -myrtle and flowering thorn, then carefully watering these -new plantations, he scrupulously effaced every trace of -footsteps, leaving the approach to the cavern as -savagelooking and untrodden as he had found it. This done, -he impatiently awaited the return of his companions. To wait -at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching like a dragon -over the almost incalculable riches that had thus fallen into -his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart, -which yearned to return to dwell among mankind, and to -assume the rank, power, and influence which are always -accorded to wealth that first and greatest of all the -forces within the grasp of man. -On the sixth day, the smugglers returned. From a distance -Dantes recognized the rig and handling of The Young Amelia, -and dragging himself with affected difficulty towards the -landingplace, he met his companions with an assurance that, -although considerably better than when they quitted him, he -still suffered acutely from his late accident. He then -inquired how they had fared in their trip. To this question -the smugglers replied that, although successful in landing -their cargo in safety, they had scarcely done so when they -received intelligence that a guardship had just quitted the -port of Toulon and was crowding all sail towards them. This -obliged them to make all the speed they could to evade the -enemy, when they could but lament the absence of Dantes, -whose superior skill in the management of a vessel would -have availed them so materially. In fact, the pursuing -vessel had almost overtaken them when, fortunately, night -came on, and enabled them to double the Cape of Corsica, and -so elude all further pursuit. Upon the whole, however, the -trip had been sufficiently successful to satisfy all -concerned while the crew, and particularly Jacopo, -expressed great regrets that Dantes had not been an equal -sharer with themselves in the profits, which amounted to no -less a sum than fifty piastres each. -Edmond preserved the most admirable selfcommand, not -suffering the faintest indication of a smile to escape him -at the enumeration of all the benefits he would have reaped -had he been able to quit the island but as The Young Amelia -had merely come to Monte Cristo to fetch him away, he -embarked that same evening, and proceeded with the captain -to Leghorn. Arrived at Leghorn, he repaired to the house of -a Jew, a dealer in precious stones, to whom he disposed of -four of his smallest diamonds for five thousand francs each. -Dantes half feared that such valuable jewels in the hands of -a poor sailor like himself might excite suspicion but the -cunning purchaser asked no troublesome questions concerning -a bargain by which he gained a round profit of at least -eighty per cent. -The following day Dantes presented Jacopo with an entirely -new vessel, accompanying the gift by a donation of one -hundred piastres, that he might provide himself with a -suitable crew and other requisites for his outfit, upon -condition that he would go at once to Marseilles for the -purpose of inquiring after an old man named Louis Dantes, -residing in the Allees de Meillan, and also a young woman -called Mercedes, an inhabitant of the Catalan village. -Jacopo could scarcely believe his senses at receiving this -magnificent present, which Dantes hastened to account for by -saying that he had merely been a sailor from whim and a -desire to spite his family, who did not allow him as much -money as he liked to spend but that on his arrival at -Leghorn he had come into possession of a large fortune, left -him by an uncle, whose sole heir he was. The superior -education of Dantes gave an air of such extreme probability -to this statement that it never once occurred to Jacopo to -doubt its accuracy. The term for which Edmond had engaged to -serve on board The Young Amelia having expired, Dantes took -leave of the captain, who at first tried all his powers of -persuasion to induce him to remain as one of the crew, but -having been told the history of the legacy, he ceased to -importune him further. The following morning Jacopo set sail -for Marseilles, with directions from Dantes to join him at -the Island of Monte Cristo. -Having seen Jacopo fairly out of the harbor, Dantes -proceeded to make his final adieus on board The Young -Amelia, distributing so liberal a gratuity among her crew as -to secure for him the good wishes of all, and expressions of -cordial interest in all that concerned him. To the captain -he promised to write when he had made up his mind as to his -future plans. Then Dantes departed for Genoa. At the moment -of his arrival a small yacht was under trial in the bay -this yacht had been built by order of an Englishman, who, -having heard that the Genoese excelled all other builders -along the shores of the Mediterranean in the construction of -fastsailing vessels, was desirous of possessing a specimen -of their skill the price agreed upon between the Englishman -and the Genoese builder was forty thousand francs. Dantes, -struck with the beauty and capability of the little vessel, -applied to its owner to transfer it to him, offering sixty -thousand francs, upon condition that he should be allowed to -take immediate possession. The proposal was too advantageous -to be refused, the more so as the person for whom the yacht -was intended had gone upon a tour through Switzerland, and -was not expected back in less than three weeks or a month, -by which time the builder reckoned upon being able to -complete another. A bargain was therefore struck. Dantes led -the owner of the yacht to the dwelling of a Jew retired -with the latter for a few minutes to a small back parlor, -and upon their return the Jew counted out to the shipbuilder -the sum of sixty thousand francs in bright gold pieces. -The delighted builder then offered his services in providing -a suitable crew for the little vessel, but this Dantes -declined with many thanks, saying he was accustomed to -cruise about quite alone, and his principal pleasure -consisted in managing his yacht himself the only thing the -builder could oblige him in would be to contrive a sort of -secret closet in the cabin at his bed's head, the closet to -contain three divisions, so constructed as to be concealed -from all but himself. The builder cheerfully undertook the -commission, and promised to have these secret places -completed by the next day, Dantes furnishing the dimensions -and plan in accordance with which they were to be -constructed. -The following day Dantes sailed with his yacht from Genoa, -under the inspection of an immense crowd drawn together by -curiosity to see the rich Spanish nobleman who preferred -managing his own yacht. But their wonder was soon changed to -admiration at seeing the perfect skill with which Dantes -handled the helm. The boat, indeed, seemed to be animated -with almost human intelligence, so promptly did it obey the -slightest touch and Dantes required but a short trial of -his beautiful craft to acknowledge that the Genoese had not -without reason attained their high reputation in the art of -shipbuilding. The spectators followed the little vessel with -their eyes as long as it remained visible they then turned -their conjectures upon her probable destination. Some -insisted she was making for Corsica, others the Island of -Elba bets were offered to any amount that she was bound for -Spain while Africa was positively reported by many persons -as her intended course but no one thought of Monte Cristo. -Yet thither it was that Dantes guided his vessel, and at -Monte Cristo he arrived at the close of the second day his -boat had proved herself a firstclass sailer, and had come -the distance from Genoa in thirtyfive hours. Dantes had -carefully noted the general appearance of the shore, and, -instead of landing at the usual place, he dropped anchor in -the little creek. The island was utterly deserted, and bore -no evidence of having been visited since he went away his -treasure was just as he had left it. Early on the following -morning he commenced the removal of his riches, and ere -nightfall the whole of his immense wealth was safely -deposited in the compartments of the secret locker. -A week passed by. Dantes employed it in manoeuvring his -yacht round the island, studying it as a skilful horseman -would the animal he destined for some important service, -till at the end of that time he was perfectly conversant -with its good and bad qualities. The former Dantes proposed -to augment, the latter to remedy. -Upon the eighth day he discerned a small vessel under full -sail approaching Monte Cristo. As it drew near, he -recognized it as the boat he had given to Jacopo. He -immediately signalled it. His signal was returned, and in -two hours afterwards the newcomer lay at anchor beside the -yacht. A mournful answer awaited each of Edmond's eager -inquiries as to the information Jacopo had obtained. Old -Dantes was dead, and Mercedes had disappeared. Dantes -listened to these melancholy tidings with outward calmness -but, leaping lightly ashore, he signified his desire to be -quite alone. In a couple of hours he returned. Two of the -men from Jacopo's boat came on board the yacht to assist in -navigating it, and he gave orders that she should be steered -direct to Marseilles. For his father's death he was in some -manner prepared but he knew not how to account for the -mysterious disappearance of Mercedes. -Without divulging his secret, Dantes could not give -sufficiently clear instructions to an agent. There were, -besides, other particulars he was desirous of ascertaining, -and those were of a nature he alone could investigate in a -manner satisfactory to himself. His lookingglass had -assured him, during his stay at Leghorn, that he ran no risk -of recognition moreover, he had now the means of adopting -any disguise he thought proper. One fine morning, then, his -yacht, followed by the little fishingboat, boldly entered -the port of Marseilles, and anchored exactly opposite the -spot from whence, on the nevertobeforgotten night of his -departure for the Chateau d'If, he had been put on board the -boat destined to convey him thither. Still Dantes could not -view without a shudder the approach of a gendarme who -accompanied the officers deputed to demand his bill of -health ere the yacht was permitted to hold communication -with the shore but with that perfect selfpossession he had -acquired during his acquaintance with Faria, Dantes coolly -presented an English passport he had obtained from Leghorn, -and as this gave him a standing which a French passport -would not have afforded, he was informed that there existed -no obstacle to his immediate debarkation. -The first person to attract the attention of Dantes, as he -landed on the Canebiere, was one of the crew belonging to -the Pharaon. Edmond welcomed the meeting with this fellow -who had been one of his own sailors as a sure means of -testing the extent of the change which time had worked in -his own appearance. Going straight towards him, he -propounded a variety of questions on different subjects, -carefully watching the man's countenance as he did so but -not a word or look implied that he had the slightest idea of -ever having seen before the person with whom he was then -conversing. Giving the sailor a piece of money in return for -his civility, Dantes proceeded onwards but ere he had gone -many steps he heard the man loudly calling him to stop. -Dantes instantly turned to meet him. "I beg your pardon, -sir," said the honest fellow, in almost breathless haste, -"but I believe you made a mistake you intended to give me a -twofranc piece, and see, you gave me a double Napoleon." -"Thank you, my good friend. I see that I have made a -trifling mistake, as you say but by way of rewarding your -honesty I give you another double Napoleon, that you may -drink to my health, and be able to ask your messmates to -join you." -So extreme was the surprise of the sailor, that he was -unable even to thank Edmond, whose receding figure he -continued to gaze after in speechless astonishment. "Some -nabob from India," was his comment. -Dantes, meanwhile, went on his way. Each step he trod -oppressed his heart with fresh emotion his first and most -indelible recollections were there not a tree, not a -street, that he passed but seemed filled with dear and -cherished memories. And thus he proceeded onwards till he -arrived at the end of the Rue de Noailles, from whence a -full view of the Allees de Meillan was obtained. At this -spot, so pregnant with fond and filial remembrances, his -heart beat almost to bursting, his knees tottered under him, -a mist floated over his sight, and had he not clung for -support to one of the trees, he would inevitably have fallen -to the ground and been crushed beneath the many vehicles -continually passing there. Recovering himself, however, he -wiped the perspiration from his brows, and stopped not again -till he found himself at the door of the house in which his -father had lived. -The nasturtiums and other plants, which his father had -delighted to train before his window, had all disappeared -from the upper part of the house. Leaning against the tree, -he gazed thoughtfully for a time at the upper stories of the -shabby little house. Then he advanced to the door, and asked -whether there were any rooms to be let. Though answered in -the negative, he begged so earnestly to be permitted to -visit those on the fifth floor, that, in despite of the -oftrepeated assurance of the concierge that they were -occupied, Dantes succeeded in inducing the man to go up to -the tenants, and ask permission for a gentleman to be -allowed to look at them. -The tenants of the humble lodging were a young couple who -had been scarcely married a week and seeing them, Dantes -sighed heavily. Nothing in the two small chambers forming -the apartments remained as it had been in the time of the -elder Dantes the very paper was different, while the -articles of antiquated furniture with which the rooms had -been filled in Edmond's time had all disappeared the four -walls alone remained as he had left them. The bed belonging -to the present occupants was placed as the former owner of -the chamber had been accustomed to have his and, in spite -of his efforts to prevent it, the eyes of Edmond were -suffused in tears as he reflected that on that spot the old -man had breathed his last, vainly calling for his son. The -young couple gazed with astonishment at the sight of their -visitor's emotion, and wondered to see the large tears -silently chasing each other down his otherwise stern and -immovable features but they felt the sacredness of his -grief, and kindly refrained from questioning him as to its -cause, while, with instinctive delicacy, they left him to -indulge his sorrow alone. When he withdrew from the scene of -his painful recollections, they both accompanied him -downstairs, reiterating their hope that he would come again -whenever he pleased, and assuring him that their poor -dwelling would ever be open to him. As Edmond passed the -door on the fourth floor, he paused to inquire whether -Caderousse the tailor still dwelt there but he received, -for reply, that the person in question had got into -difficulties, and at the present time kept a small inn on -the route from Bellegarde to Beaucaire. -Having obtained the address of the person to whom the house -in the Allees de Meillan belonged, Dantes next proceeded -thither, and, under the name of Lord Wilmore the name and -title inscribed on his passport, purchased the small -dwelling for the sum of twentyfive thousand francs, at -least ten thousand more than it was worth but had its owner -asked half a million, it would unhesitatingly have been -given. The very same day the occupants of the apartments on -the fifth floor of the house, now become the property of -Dantes, were duly informed by the notary who had arranged -the necessary transfer of deeds, etc., that the new landlord -gave them their choice of any of the rooms in the house, -without the least augmentation of rent, upon condition of -their giving instant possession of the two small chambers -they at present inhabited. -This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the -neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan, and a multitude of -theories were afloat, none of which was anywhere near the -truth. But what raised public astonishment to a climax, and -set all conjecture at defiance, was the knowledge that the -same stranger who had in the morning visited the Allees de -Meillan had been seen in the evening walking in the little -village of the Catalans, and afterwards observed to enter a -poor fisherman's hut, and to pass more than an hour in -inquiring after persons who had either been dead or gone -away for more than fifteen or sixteen years. But on the -following day the family from whom all these particulars had -been asked received a handsome present, consisting of an -entirely new fishingboat, with two seines and a tender. The -delighted recipients of these munificent gifts would gladly -have poured out their thanks to their generous benefactor, -but they had seen him, upon quitting the hut, merely give -some orders to a sailor, and then springing lightly on -horseback, leave Marseilles by the Porte d'Aix. -Chapter -The Pont du Gard Inn. -Such of my readers as have made a pedestrian excursion to -the south of France may perchance have noticed, about midway -between the town of Beaucaire and the village of Bellegarde, -a little nearer to the former than to the latter, a -small roadside inn, from the front of which hung, creaking -and flapping in the wind, a sheet of tin covered with a -grotesque representation of the Pont du Gard. This modern -place of entertainment stood on the lefthand side of the -post road, and backed upon the Rhone. It also boasted of -what in Languedoc is styled a garden, consisting of a small -plot of ground, on the side opposite to the main entrance -reserved for the reception of guests. A few dingy olives and -stunted figtrees struggled hard for existence, but their -withered dusty foliage abundantly proved how unequal was the -conflict. Between these sickly shrubs grew a scanty supply -of garlic, tomatoes, and eschalots while, lone and -solitary, like a forgotten sentinel, a tall pine raised its -melancholy head in one of the corners of this unattractive -spot, and displayed its flexible stem and fanshaped summit -dried and cracked by the fierce heat of the subtropical -sun. -In the surrounding plain, which more resembled a dusty lake -than solid ground, were scattered a few miserable stalks of -wheat, the effect, no doubt, of a curious desire on the part -of the agriculturists of the country to see whether such a -thing as the raising of grain in those parched regions was -practicable. Each stalk served as a perch for a grasshopper, -which regaled the passers by through this Egyptian scene -with its strident, monotonous note. -For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been -kept by a man and his wife, with two servants, a -chambermaid named Trinette, and a hostler called Pecaud. -This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements, -for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had -revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the -cart and the stagecoach. And, as though to add to the daily -misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the -unfortunate innkeeper, whose utter ruin it was fast -accomplishing, it was situated between the Rhone from which -it had its source and the postroad it had depleted, not a -hundred steps from the inn, of which we have given a brief -but faithful description. -The innkeeper himself was a man of from forty to fiftyfive -years of age, tall, strong, and bony, a perfect specimen of -the natives of those southern latitudes he had dark, -sparkling, and deepset eyes, hooked nose, and teeth white -as those of a carnivorous animal his hair, like his beard, -which he wore under his chin, was thick and curly, and in -spite of his age but slightly interspersed with a few -silvery threads. His naturally dark complexion had assumed a -still further shade of brown from the habit the unfortunate -man had acquired of stationing himself from morning till eve -at the threshold of his door, on the lookout for guests who -seldom came, yet there he stood, day after day, exposed to -the meridional rays of a burning sun, with no other -protection for his head than a red handkerchief twisted -around it, after the manner of the Spanish muleteers. This -man was our old acquaintance, Gaspard Caderousse. His wife, -on the contrary, whose maiden name had been Madeleine -Radelle, was pale, meagre, and sicklylooking. Born in the -neighborhood of Arles, she had shared in the beauty for -which its women are proverbial but that beauty had -gradually withered beneath the devastating influence of the -slow fever so prevalent among dwellers by the ponds of -Aiguemortes and the marshes of Camargue. She remained nearly -always in her secondfloor chamber, shivering in her chair, -or stretched languid and feeble on her bed, while her -husband kept his daily watch at the door a duty he -performed with so much the greater willingness, as it saved -him the necessity of listening to the endless plaints and -murmurs of his helpmate, who never saw him without breaking -out into bitter invectives against fate to all of which her -husband would calmly return an unvarying reply, in these -philosophic words -"Hush, La Carconte. It is God's pleasure that things should -be so." -The sobriquet of La Carconte had been bestowed on Madeleine -Radelle from the fact that she had been born in a village, -so called, situated between Salon and Lambesc and as a -custom existed among the inhabitants of that part of France -where Caderousse lived of styling every person by some -particular and distinctive appellation, her husband had -bestowed on her the name of La Carconte in place of her -sweet and euphonious name of Madeleine, which, in all -probability, his rude gutteral language would not have -enabled him to pronounce. Still, let it not be supposed that -amid this affected resignation to the will of Providence, -the unfortunate innkeeper did not writhe under the double -misery of seeing the hateful canal carry off his customers -and his profits, and the daily infliction of his peevish -partner's murmurs and lamentations. -Like other dwellers in the south, he was a man of sober -habits and moderate desires, but fond of external show, -vain, and addicted to display. During the days of his -prosperity, not a festivity took place without himself and -wife being among the spectators. He dressed in the -picturesque costume worn upon grand occasions by the -inhabitants of the south of France, bearing equal -resemblance to the style adopted both by the Catalans and -Andalusians while La Carconte displayed the charming -fashion prevalent among the women of Arles, a mode of attire -borrowed equally from Greece and Arabia. But, by degrees, -watchchains, necklaces, particolored scarfs, embroidered -bodices, velvet vests, elegantly worked stockings, striped -gaiters, and silver buckles for the shoes, all disappeared -and Gaspard Caderousse, unable to appear abroad in his -pristine splendor, had given up any further participation in -the pomps and vanities, both for himself and wife, although -a bitter feeling of envious discontent filled his mind as -the sound of mirth and merry music from the joyous revellers -reached even the miserable hostelry to which he still clung, -more for the shelter than the profit it afforded. -Caderousse, then, was, as usual, at his place of observation -before the door, his eyes glancing listlessly from a piece -of closely shaven grass on which some fowls were -industriously, though fruitlessly, endeavoring to turn up -some grain or insect suited to their palate to the -deserted road, which led away to the north and south, when -he was aroused by the shrill voice of his wife, and -grumbling to himself as he went, he mounted to her chamber, -first taking care, however, to set the entrance door wide -open, as an invitation to any chance traveller who might be -passing. -At the moment Caderousse quitted his sentrylike watch -before the door, the road on which he so eagerly strained -his sight was void and lonely as a desert at midday. There -it lay stretching out into one interminable line of dust and -sand, with its sides bordered by tall, meagre trees, -altogether presenting so uninviting an appearance, that no -one in his senses could have imagined that any traveller, at -liberty to regulate his hours for journeying, would choose -to expose himself in such a formidable Sahara. Nevertheless, -had Caderousse but retained his post a few minutes longer, -he might have caught a dim outline of something approaching -from the direction of Bellegarde as the moving object drew -nearer, he would easily have perceived that it consisted of -a man and horse, between whom the kindest and most amiable -understanding appeared to exist. The horse was of Hungarian -breed, and ambled along at an easy pace. His rider was a -priest, dressed in black, and wearing a threecornered hat -and, spite of the ardent rays of a noonday sun, the pair -came on with a fair degree of rapidity. -Having arrived before the Pont du Gard, the horse stopped, -but whether for his own pleasure or that of his rider would -have been difficult to say. However that might have been, -the priest, dismounting, led his steed by the bridle in -search of some place to which he could secure him. Availing -himself of a handle that projected from a halffallen door, -he tied the animal safely and having drawn a red cotton -handkerchief, from his pocket, wiped away the perspiration -that streamed from his brow, then, advancing to the door, -struck thrice with the end of his ironshod stick. At this -unusual sound, a huge black dog came rushing to meet the -daring assailant of his ordinarily tranquil abode, snarling -and displaying his sharp white teeth with a determined -hostility that abundantly proved how little he was -accustomed to society. At that moment a heavy footstep was -heard descending the wooden staircase that led from the -upper floor, and, with many bows and courteous smiles, mine -host of the Pont du Gard besought his guest to enter. -"You are welcome, sir, most welcome" repeated the -astonished Caderousse. "Now, then, Margotin," cried he, -speaking to the dog, "will you be quiet? Pray don't heed -him, sir he only barks, he never bites. I make no doubt -a glass of good wine would be acceptable this dreadfully hot -day." Then perceiving for the first time the garb of the -traveller he had to entertain, Caderousse hastily exclaimed -"A thousand pardons I really did not observe whom I had the -honor to receive under my poor roof. What would the abbe -please to have? What refreshment can I offer? All I have is -at his service." -The priest gazed on the person addressing him with a long -and searching gaze there even seemed a disposition on his -part to court a similar scrutiny on the part of the -innkeeper then, observing in the countenance of the latter -no other expression than extreme surprise at his own want of -attention to an inquiry so courteously worded, he deemed it -as well to terminate this dumb show, and therefore said, -speaking with a strong Italian accent, "You are, I presume, -M. Caderousse?" -"Yes, sir," answered the host, even more surprised at the -question than he had been by the silence which had preceded -it "I am Gaspard Caderousse, at your service." -"Gaspard Caderousse," rejoined the priest. "Yes, -Christian and surname are the same. You formerly lived, I -believe in the Allees de Meillan, on the fourth floor?" -"I did." -"And you followed the business of a tailor?" -"True, I was a tailor, till the trade fell off. It is so hot -at Marseilles, that really I believe that the respectable -inhabitants will in time go without any clothing whatever. -But talking of heat, is there nothing I can offer you by way -of refreshment?" -"Yes let me have a bottle of your best wine, and then, with -your permission, we will resume our conversation from where -we left off." -"As you please, sir," said Caderousse, who, anxious not to -lose the present opportunity of finding a customer for one -of the few bottles of Cahors still remaining in his -possession, hastily raised a trapdoor in the floor of the -apartment they were in, which served both as parlor and -kitchen. Upon issuing forth from his subterranean retreat at -the expiration of five minutes, he found the abbe seated -upon a wooden stool, leaning his elbow on a table, while -Margotin, whose animosity seemed appeased by the unusual -command of the traveller for refreshments, had crept up to -him, and had established himself very comfortably between -his knees, his long, skinny neck resting on his lap, while -his dim eye was fixed earnestly on the traveller's face. -"Are you quite alone?" inquired the guest, as Caderousse -placed before him the bottle of wine and a glass. -"Quite, quite alone," replied the man "or, at least, -practically so, for my poor wife, who is the only person in -the house besides myself, is laid up with illness, and -unable to render me the least assistance, poor thing" -"You are married, then?" said the priest, with a show of -interest, glancing round as he spoke at the scanty -furnishings of the apartment. -"Ah, sir," said Caderousse with a sigh, "it is easy to -perceive I am not a rich man but in this world a man does -not thrive the better for being honest." The abbe fixed on -him a searching, penetrating glance. -"Yes, honest I can certainly say that much for myself," -continued the innkeeper, fairly sustaining the scrutiny of -the abbe's gaze "I can boast with truth of being an honest -man and," continued he significantly, with a hand on his -breast and shaking his head, "that is more than every one -can say nowadays." -"So much the better for you, if what you assert be true," -said the abbe "for I am firmly persuaded that, sooner or -later, the good will be rewarded, and the wicked punished." -"Such words as those belong to your profession," answered -Caderousse, "and you do well to repeat them but," added he, -with a bitter expression of countenance, "one is free to -believe them or not, as one pleases." -"You are wrong to speak thus," said the abbe "and perhaps I -may, in my own person, be able to prove to you how -completely you are in error." -"What mean you?" inquired Caderousse with a look of -surprise. -"In the first place, I must be satisfied that you are the -person I am in search of." -"What proofs do you require?" -"Did you, in the year or , know anything of a young -sailor named Dantes?" -"Dantes? Did I know poor dear Edmond? Why, Edmond Dantes and -myself were intimate friends" exclaimed Caderousse, whose -countenance flushed darkly as he caught the penetrating gaze -of the abbe fixed on him, while the clear, calm eye of the -questioner seemed to dilate with feverish scrutiny. -"You remind me," said the priest, "that the young man -concerning whom I asked you was said to bear the name of -Edmond." -"Said to bear the name" repeated Caderousse, becoming -excited and eager. "Why, he was so called as truly as I -myself bore the appellation of Gaspard Caderousse but tell -me, I pray, what has become of poor Edmond? Did you know -him? Is he alive and at liberty? Is he prosperous and -happy?" -"He died a more wretched, hopeless, heartbroken prisoner -than the felons who pay the penalty of their crimes at the -galleys of Toulon." -A deadly pallor followed the flush on the countenance of -Caderousse, who turned away, and the priest saw him wiping -the tears from his eyes with the corner of the red -handkerchief twisted round his head. -"Poor fellow, poor fellow" murmured Caderousse. "Well, -there, sir, is another proof that good people are never -rewarded on this earth, and that none but the wicked -prosper. Ah," continued Caderousse, speaking in the highly -colored language of the south, "the world grows worse and -worse. Why does not God, if he really hates the wicked, as -he is said to do, send down brimstone and fire, and consume -them altogether?" -"You speak as though you had loved this young Dantes," -observed the abbe, without taking any notice of his -companion's vehemence. -"And so I did," replied Caderousse "though once, I confess, -I envied him his good fortune. But I swear to you, sir, I -swear to you, by everything a man holds dear, I have, since -then, deeply and sincerely lamented his unhappy fate." There -was a brief silence, during which the fixed, searching eye -of the abbe was employed in scrutinizing the agitated -features of the innkeeper. -"You knew the poor lad, then?" continued Caderousse. -"I was called to see him on his dying bed, that I might -administer to him the consolations of religion." -"And of what did he die?" asked Caderousse in a choking -voice. -"Of what, think you, do young and strong men die in prison, -when they have scarcely numbered their thirtieth year, -unless it be of imprisonment?" Caderousse wiped away the -large beads of perspiration that gathered on his brow. -"But the strangest part of the story is," resumed the abbe, -"that Dantes, even in his dying moments, swore by his -crucified Redeemer, that he was utterly ignorant of the -cause of his detention." -"And so he was," murmured Caderousse. "How should he have -been otherwise? Ah, sir, the poor fellow told you the -truth." -"And for that reason, he besought me to try and clear up a -mystery he had never been able to penetrate, and to clear -his memory should any foul spot or stain have fallen on it." -And here the look of the abbe, becoming more and more fixed, -seemed to rest with illconcealed satisfaction on the gloomy -depression which was rapidly spreading over the countenance -of Caderousse. -"A rich Englishman," continued the abbe, "who had been his -companion in misfortune, but had been released from prison -during the second restoration, was possessed of a diamond of -immense value this jewel he bestowed on Dantes upon himself -quitting the prison, as a mark of his gratitude for the -kindness and brotherly care with which Dantes had nursed him -in a severe illness he underwent during his confinement. -Instead of employing this diamond in attempting to bribe his -jailers, who might only have taken it and then betrayed him -to the governor, Dantes carefully preserved it, that in the -event of his getting out of prison he might have wherewithal -to live, for the sale of such a diamond would have quite -sufficed to make his fortune." -"Then, I suppose," asked Caderousse, with eager, glowing -looks, "that it was a stone of immense value?" -"Why, everything is relative," answered the abbe. "To one in -Edmond's position the diamond certainly was of great value. -It was estimated at fifty thousand francs." -"Bless me" exclaimed Caderousse, "fifty thousand francs -Surely the diamond was as large as a nut to be worth all -that." -"No," replied the abbe, "it was not of such a size as that -but you shall judge for yourself. I have it with me." -The sharp gaze of Caderousse was instantly directed towards -the priest's garments, as though hoping to discover the -location of the treasure. Calmly drawing forth from his -pocket a small box covered with black shagreen, the abbe -opened it, and displayed to the dazzled eyes of Caderousse -the sparkling jewel it contained, set in a ring of admirable -workmanship. "And that diamond," cried Caderousse, almost -breathless with eager admiration, "you say, is worth fifty -thousand francs?" -"It is, without the setting, which is also valuable," -replied the abbe, as he closed the box, and returned it to -his pocket, while its brilliant hues seemed still to dance -before the eyes of the fascinated innkeeper. -"But how comes the diamond in your possession, sir? Did -Edmond make you his heir?" -"No, merely his testamentary executor. "I once possessed -four dear and faithful friends, besides the maiden to whom I -was betrothed' he said "and I feel convinced they have all -unfeignedly grieved over my loss. The name of one of the -four friends is Caderousse.'" The innkeeper shivered. -""Another of the number,'" continued the abbe, without -seeming to notice the emotion of Caderousse, ""is called -Danglars and the third, in spite of being my rival, -entertained a very sincere affection for me.'" A fiendish -smile played over the features of Caderousse, who was about -to break in upon the abbe's speech, when the latter, waving -his hand, said, "Allow me to finish first, and then if you -have any observations to make, you can do so afterwards. -"The third of my friends, although my rival, was much -attached to me, his name was Fernand that of my -betrothed was' Stay, stay," continued the abbe, "I have -forgotten what he called her." -"Mercedes," said Caderousse eagerly. -"True," said the abbe, with a stifled sigh, "Mercedes it -was." -"Go on," urged Caderousse. -"Bring me a carafe of water," said the abbe. -Caderousse quickly performed the stranger's bidding and -after pouring some into a glass, and slowly swallowing its -contents, the abbe, resuming his usual placidity of manner, -said, as he placed his empty glass on the table, "Where -did we leave off?" -"The name of Edmond's betrothed was Mercedes." -"To be sure. "You will go to Marseilles,' said Dantes, -for you understand, I repeat his words just as he uttered -them. Do you understand?" -"Perfectly." -""You will sell this diamond you will divide the money into -five equal parts, and give an equal portion to these good -friends, the only persons who have loved me upon earth.'" -"But why into five parts?" asked Caderousse "you only -mentioned four persons." -"Because the fifth is dead, as I hear. The fifth sharer in -Edmond's bequest, was his own father." -"Too true, too true" ejaculated Caderousse, almost -suffocated by the contending passions which assailed him, -"the poor old man did die." -"I learned so much at Marseilles," replied the abbe, making -a strong effort to appear indifferent "but from the length -of time that has elapsed since the death of the elder -Dantes, I was unable to obtain any particulars of his end. -Can you enlighten me on that point?" -"I do not know who could if I could not," said Caderousse. -"Why, I lived almost on the same floor with the poor old -man. Ah, yes, about a year after the disappearance of his -son the poor old man died." -"Of what did he die?" -"Why, the doctors called his complaint gastroenteritis, I -believe his acquaintances say he died of grief but I, who -saw him in his dying moments, I say he died of" -Caderousse paused. -"Of what?" asked the priest, anxiously and eagerly. -"Why, of downright starvation." -"Starvation" exclaimed the abbe, springing from his seat. -"Why, the vilest animals are not suffered to die by such a -death as that. The very dogs that wander houseless and -homeless in the streets find some pitying hand to cast them -a mouthful of bread and that a man, a Christian, should be -allowed to perish of hunger in the midst of other men who -call themselves Christians, is too horrible for belief. Oh, -it is impossible utterly impossible" -"What I have said, I have said," answered Caderousse. -"And you are a fool for having said anything about it," said -a voice from the top of the stairs. "Why should you meddle -with what does not concern you?" -The two men turned quickly, and saw the sickly countenance -of La Carconte peering between the baluster rails attracted -by the sound of voices, she had feebly dragged herself down -the stairs, and, seated on the lower step, head on knees, -she had listened to the foregoing conversation. "Mind your -own business, wife," replied Caderousse sharply. "This -gentleman asks me for information, which common politeness -will not permit me to refuse." -"Politeness, you simpleton" retorted La Carconte. "What -have you to do with politeness, I should like to know? -Better study a little common prudence. How do you know the -motives that person may have for trying to extract all he -can from you?" -"I pledge you my word, madam," said the abbe, "that my -intentions are good and that you husband can incur no risk, -provided he answers me candidly." -"Ah, that's all very fine," retorted the woman. "Nothing is -easier than to begin with fair promises and assurances of -nothing to fear but when poor, silly folks, like my husband -there, have been persuaded to tell all they know, the -promises and assurances of safety are quickly forgotten and -at some moment when nobody is expecting it, behold trouble -and misery, and all sorts of persecutions, are heaped on the -unfortunate wretches, who cannot even see whence all their -afflictions come." -"Nay, nay, my good woman, make yourself perfectly easy, I -beg of you. Whatever evils may befall you, they will not be -occasioned by my instrumentality, that I solemnly promise -you." -La Carconte muttered a few inarticulate words, then let her -head again drop upon her knees, and went into a fit of ague, -leaving the two speakers to resume the conversation, but -remaining so as to be able to hear every word they uttered. -Again the abbe had been obliged to swallow a draught of -water to calm the emotions that threatened to overpower him. -When he had sufficiently recovered himself, he said, "It -appears, then, that the miserable old man you were telling -me of was forsaken by every one. Surely, had not such been -the case, he would not have perished by so dreadful a -death." -"Why, he was not altogether forsaken," continued Caderousse, -"for Mercedes the Catalan and Monsieur Morrel were very kind -to him but somehow the poor old man had contracted a -profound hatred for Fernand the very person," added -Caderousse with a bitter smile, "that you named just now as -being one of Dantes' faithful and attached friends." -"And was he not so?" asked the abbe. -"Gaspard, Gaspard" murmured the woman, from her seat on the -stairs, "mind what you are saying" Caderousse made no reply -to these words, though evidently irritated and annoyed by -the interruption, but, addressing the abbe, said, "Can a man -be faithful to another whose wife he covets and desires for -himself? But Dantes was so honorable and true in his own -nature, that he believed everybody's professions of -friendship. Poor Edmond, he was cruelly deceived but it was -fortunate that he never knew, or he might have found it more -difficult, when on his deathbed, to pardon his enemies. And, -whatever people may say," continued Caderousse, in his -native language, which was not altogether devoid of rude -poetry, "I cannot help being more frightened at the idea of -the malediction of the dead than the hatred of the living." -"Imbecile" exclaimed La Carconte. -"Do you, then, know in what manner Fernand injured Dantes?" -inquired the abbe of Caderousse. -"Do I? No one better." -"Speak out then, say what it was" -"Gaspard" cried La Carconte, "do as you will you are -master but if you take my advice you'll hold your -tongue." -"Well, wife," replied Caderousse, "I don't know but what -you're right" -"So you will say nothing?" asked the abbe. -"Why, what good would it do?" asked Caderousse. "If the poor -lad were living, and came to me and begged that I would -candidly tell which were his true and which his false -friends, why, perhaps, I should not hesitate. But you tell -me he is no more, and therefore can have nothing to do with -hatred or revenge, so let all such feeling be buried with -him." -"You prefer, then," said the abbe, "that I should bestow on -men you say are false and treacherous, the reward intended -for faithful friendship?" -"That is true enough," returned Caderousse. "You say truly, -the gift of poor Edmond was not meant for such traitors as -Fernand and Danglars besides, what would it be to them? no -more than a drop of water in the ocean." -"Remember," chimed in La Carconte, "those two could crush -you at a single blow" -"How so?" inquired the abbe. "Are these persons, then, so -rich and powerful?" -"Do you not know their history?" -"I do not. Pray relate it to me" Caderousse seemed to -reflect for a few moments, then said, "No, truly, it would -take up too much time." -"Well, my good friend," returned the abbe, in a tone that -indicated utter indifference on his part, "you are at -liberty, either to speak or be silent, just as you please -for my own part, I respect your scruples and admire your -sentiments so let the matter end. I shall do my duty as -conscientiously as I can, and fulfil my promise to the dying -man. My first business will be to dispose of this diamond." -So saying, the abbe again draw the small box from his -pocket, opened it, and contrived to hold it in such a light, -that a bright flash of brilliant hues passed before the -dazzled gaze of Caderousse. -"Wife, wife" cried he in a hoarse voice, "come here" -"Diamond" exclaimed La Carconte, rising and descending to -the chamber with a tolerably firm step "what diamond are -you talking about?" -"Why, did you not hear all we said?" inquired Caderousse. -"It is a beautiful diamond left by poor Edmond Dantes, to be -sold, and the money divided between his father, Mercedes, -his betrothed bride, Fernand, Danglars, and myself. The -jewel is worth at least fifty thousand francs." -"Oh, what a magnificent jewel" cried the astonished woman. -"The fifth part of the profits from this stone belongs to us -then, does it not?" asked Caderousse. -"It does," replied the abbe "with the addition of an equal -division of that part intended for the elder Dantes, which I -believe myself at liberty to divide equally with the four -survivors." -"And why among us four?" inquired Caderousse. -"As being the friends Edmond esteemed most faithful and -devoted to him." -"I don't call those friends who betray and ruin you," -murmured the wife in her turn, in a low, muttering voice. -"Of course not" rejoined Caderousse quickly "no more do I, -and that was what I was observing to this gentleman just -now. I said I looked upon it as a sacrilegious profanation -to reward treachery, perhaps crime." -"Remember," answered the abbe calmly, as he replaced the -jewel and its case in the pocket of his cassock, "it is your -fault, not mine, that I do so. You will have the goodness to -furnish me with the address of both Fernand and Danglars, in -order that I may execute Edmond's last wishes." The -agitation of Caderousse became extreme, and large drops of -perspiration rolled from his heated brow. As he saw the abbe -rise from his seat and go towards the door, as though to -ascertain if his horse were sufficiently refreshed to -continue his journey, Caderousse and his wife exchanged -looks of deep meaning. -"There, you see, wife," said the former, "this splendid -diamond might all be ours, if we chose" -"Do you believe it?" -"Why, surely a man of his holy profession would not deceive -us" -"Well," replied La Carconte, "do as you like. For my part, I -wash my hands of the affair." So saying, she once more -climbed the staircase leading to her chamber, her body -convulsed with chills, and her teeth rattling in her head, -in spite of the intense heat of the weather. Arrived at the -top stair, she turned round, and called out, in a warning -tone, to her husband, "Gaspard, consider well what you are -about to do" -"I have both reflected and decided," answered he. La -Carconte then entered her chamber, the flooring of which -creaked beneath her heavy, uncertain tread, as she proceeded -towards her armchair, into which she fell as though -exhausted. -"Well," asked the abbe, as he returned to the apartment -below, "what have you made up your mind to do?" -"To tell you all I know," was the reply. -"I certainly think you act wisely in so doing," said the -priest. "Not because I have the least desire to learn -anything you may please to conceal from me, but simply that -if, through your assistance, I could distribute the legacy -according to the wishes of the testator, why, so much the -better, that is all." -"I hope it may be so," replied Caderousse, his face flushed -with cupidity. -"I am all attention," said the abbe. -"Stop a minute," answered Caderousse "we might be -interrupted in the most interesting part of my story, which -would be a pity and it is as well that your visit hither -should be made known only to ourselves." With these words he -went stealthily to the door, which he closed, and, by way of -still greater precaution, bolted and barred it, as he was -accustomed to do at night. During this time the abbe had -chosen his place for listening at his ease. He removed his -seat into a corner of the room, where he himself would be in -deep shadow, while the light would be fully thrown on the -narrator then, with head bent down and hands clasped, or -rather clinched together, he prepared to give his whole -attention to Caderousse, who seated himself on the little -stool, exactly opposite to him. -"Remember, this is no affair of mine," said the trembling -voice of La Carconte, as though through the flooring of her -chamber she viewed the scene that was enacting below. -"Enough, enough" replied Caderousse "say no more about it -I will take all the consequences upon myself." And he began -his story. -Chapter -The Story. -"First, sir," said Caderousse, "you must make me a promise." -"What is that?" inquired the abbe. -"Why, if you ever make use of the details I am about to give -you, that you will never let any one know that it was I who -supplied them for the persons of whom I am about to talk -are rich and powerful, and if they only laid the tips of -their fingers on me, I should break to pieces like glass." -"Make yourself easy, my friend," replied the abbe. "I am a -priest, and confessions die in my breast. Recollect, our -only desire is to carry out, in a fitting manner, the last -wishes of our friend. Speak, then, without reserve, as -without hatred tell the truth, the whole truth I do not -know, never may know, the persons of whom you are about to -speak besides, I am an Italian, and not a Frenchman, and -belong to God, and not to man, and I shall shortly retire to -my convent, which I have only quitted to fulfil the last -wishes of a dying man." This positive assurance seemed to -give Caderousse a little courage. -"Well, then, under these circumstances," said Caderousse, "I -will, I even believe I ought to undeceive you as to the -friendship which poor Edmond thought so sincere and -unquestionable." -"Begin with his father, if you please." said the abbe -"Edmond talked to me a great deal about the old man for whom -he had the deepest love." -"The history is a sad one, sir," said Caderousse, shaking -his head "perhaps you know all the earlier part of it?" -"Yes." answered the abbe "Edmond related to me everything -until the moment when he was arrested in a small cabaret -close to Marseilles." -"At La Reserve Oh, yes I can see it all before me this -moment." -"Was it not his betrothal feast?" -"It was and the feast that began so gayly had a very -sorrowful ending a police commissary, followed by four -soldiers, entered, and Dantes was arrested." -"Yes, and up to this point I know all," said the priest. -"Dantes himself only knew that which personally concerned -him, for he never beheld again the five persons I have named -to you, or heard mention of any one of them." -"Well, when Dantes was arrested, Monsieur Morrel hastened to -obtain the particulars, and they were very sad. The old man -returned alone to his home, folded up his wedding suit with -tears in his eyes, and paced up and down his chamber the -whole day, and would not go to bed at all, for I was -underneath him and heard him walking the whole night and -for myself, I assure you I could not sleep either, for the -grief of the poor father gave me great uneasiness, and every -step he took went to my heart as really as if his foot had -pressed against my breast. The next day Mercedes came to -implore the protection of M. de Villefort she did not -obtain it, however, and went to visit the old man when she -saw him so miserable and heartbroken, having passed a -sleepless night, and not touched food since the previous -day, she wished him to go with her that she might take care -of him but the old man would not consent. "No,' was the old -man's reply, "I will not leave this house, for my poor dear -boy loves me better than anything in the world and if he -gets out of prison he will come and see me the first thing, -and what would he think if I did not wait here for him?' I -heard all this from the window, for I was anxious that -Mercedes should persuade the old man to accompany her, for -his footsteps over my head night and day did not leave me a -moment's repose." -"But did you not go upstairs and try to console the poor -old man?" asked the abbe. -"Ah, sir," replied Caderousse, "we cannot console those who -will not be consoled, and he was one of these besides, I -know not why, but he seemed to dislike seeing me. One night, -however, I heard his sobs, and I could not resist my desire -to go up to him, but when I reached his door he was no -longer weeping but praying. I cannot now repeat to you, sir, -all the eloquent words and imploring language he made use -of it was more than piety, it was more than grief, and I, -who am no canter, and hate the Jesuits, said then to myself, -"It is really well, and I am very glad that I have not any -children for if I were a father and felt such excessive -grief as the old man does, and did not find in my memory or -heart all he is now saying, I should throw myself into the -sea at once, for I could not bear it.'" -"Poor father" murmured the priest. -"From day to day he lived on alone, and more and more -solitary. M. Morrel and Mercedes came to see him, but his -door was closed and, although I was certain he was at home, -he would not make any answer. One day, when, contrary to his -custom, he had admitted Mercedes, and the poor girl, in -spite of her own grief and despair, endeavored to console -him, he said to her, "Be assured, my dear daughter, he is -dead and instead of expecting him, it is he who is awaiting -us I am quite happy, for I am the oldest, and of course -shall see him first.' However well disposed a person may be, -why you see we leave off after a time seeing persons who are -in sorrow, they make one melancholy and so at last old -Dantes was left all to himself, and I only saw from time to -time strangers go up to him and come down again with some -bundle they tried to hide but I guessed what these bundles -were, and that he sold by degrees what he had to pay for his -subsistence. At length the poor old fellow reached the end -of all he had he owed three quarters' rent, and they -threatened to turn him out he begged for another week, -which was granted to him. I know this, because the landlord -came into my apartment when he left his. For the first three -days I heard him walking about as usual, but, on the fourth -I heard nothing. I then resolved to go up to him at all -risks. The door was closed, but I looked through the -keyhole, and saw him so pale and haggard, that believing him -very ill, I went and told M. Morrel and then ran on to -Mercedes. They both came immediately, M. Morrel bringing a -doctor, and the doctor said it was inflammation of the -bowels, and ordered him a limited diet. I was there, too, -and I never shall forget the old man's smile at this -prescription. From that time he received all who came he -had an excuse for not eating any more the doctor had put -him on a diet." The abbe uttered a kind of groan. "The story -interests you, does it not, sir?" inquired Caderousse. -"Yes," replied the abbe, "it is very affecting." -"Mercedes came again, and she found him so altered that she -was even more anxious than before to have him taken to her -own home. This was M. Morrel's wish also, who would fain -have conveyed the old man against his consent but the old -man resisted, and cried so that they were actually -frightened. Mercedes remained, therefore, by his bedside, -and M. Morrel went away, making a sign to the Catalan that -he had left his purse on the chimneypiece. But availing -himself of the doctor's order, the old man would not take -any sustenance at length after nine days of despair and -fasting, the old man died, cursing those who had caused his -misery, and saying to Mercedes, "If you ever see my Edmond -again, tell him I die blessing him.'" The abbe rose from his -chair, made two turns round the chamber, and pressed his -trembling hand against his parched throat. "And you believe -he died" -"Of hunger, sir, of hunger," said Caderousse. "I am as -certain of it as that we two are Christians." -The abbe, with a shaking hand, seized a glass of water that -was standing by him halffull, swallowed it at one gulp, and -then resumed his seat, with red eyes and pale cheeks. "This -was, indeed, a horrid event." said he in a hoarse voice. -"The more so, sir, as it was men's and not God's doing." -"Tell me of those men," said the abbe, "and remember too," -he added in an almost menacing tone, "you have promised to -tell me everything. Tell me, therefore, who are these men -who killed the son with despair, and the father with -famine?" -"Two men jealous of him, sir one from love, and the other -from ambition, Fernand and Danglars." -"How was this jealousy manifested? Speak on." -"They denounced Edmond as a Bonapartist agent." -"Which of the two denounced him? Which was the real -delinquent?" -"Both, sir one with a letter, and the other put it in the -post." -"And where was this letter written?" -"At La Reserve, the day before the betrothal feast." -"'Twas so, then 'twas so, then," murmured the abbe. "Oh, -Faria, Faria, how well did you judge men and things" -"What did you please to say, sir?" asked Caderousse. -"Nothing, nothing," replied the priest "go on." -"It was Danglars who wrote the denunciation with his left -hand, that his writing might not be recognized, and Fernand -who put it in the post." -"But," exclaimed the abbe suddenly, "you were there -yourself." -"I" said Caderousse, astonished "who told you I was -there?" -The abbe saw he had overshot the mark, and he added quickly, -"No one but in order to have known everything so well, -you must have been an eyewitness." -"True, true" said Caderousse in a choking voice, "I was -there." -"And did you not remonstrate against such infamy?" asked the -abbe "if not, you were an accomplice." -"Sir," replied Caderousse, "they had made me drink to such -an excess that I nearly lost all perception. I had only an -indistinct understanding of what was passing around me. I -said all that a man in such a state could say but they both -assured me that it was a jest they were carrying on, and -perfectly harmless." -"Next day next day, sir, you must have seen plain enough -what they had been doing, yet you said nothing, though you -were present when Dantes was arrested." -"Yes, sir, I was there, and very anxious to speak but -Danglars restrained me. "If he should really be guilty,' -said he, "and did really put in to the Island of Elba if he -is really charged with a letter for the Bonapartist -committee at Paris, and if they find this letter upon him, -those who have supported him will pass for his accomplices.' -I confess I had my fears, in the state in which politics -then were, and I held my tongue. It was cowardly, I confess, -but it was not criminal." -"I understand you allowed matters to take their course, -that was all." -"Yes, sir," answered Caderousse "and remorse preys on me -night and day. I often ask pardon of God, I swear to you, -because this action, the only one with which I have -seriously to reproach myself in all my life, is no doubt the -cause of my abject condition. I am expiating a moment of -selfishness, and so I always say to La Carconte, when she -complains, "Hold your tongue, woman it is the will of -God.'" And Caderousse bowed his head with every sign of real -repentance. -"Well, sir," said the abbe, "you have spoken unreservedly -and thus to accuse yourself is to deserve pardon." -"Unfortunately, Edmond is dead, and has not pardoned me." -"He did not know," said the abbe. -"But he knows it all now," interrupted Caderousse "they say -the dead know everything." There was a brief silence the -abbe rose and paced up and down pensively, and then resumed -his seat. "You have two or three times mentioned a M. -Morrel," he said "who was he?" -"The owner of the Pharaon and patron of Dantes." -"And what part did he play in this sad drama?" inquired the -abbe. -"The part of an honest man, full of courage and real regard. -Twenty times he interceded for Edmond. When the emperor -returned, he wrote, implored, threatened, and so -energetically, that on the second restoration he was -persecuted as a Bonapartist. Ten times, as I told you, he -came to see Dantes' father, and offered to receive him in -his own house and the night or two before his death, as I -have already said, he left his purse on the mantelpiece, -with which they paid the old man's debts, and buried him -decently and so Edmond's father died, as he had lived, -without doing harm to any one. I have the purse still by me -a large one, made of red silk." -"And," asked the abbe, "is M. Morrel still alive?" -"Yes," replied Caderousse. -"In that case," replied the abbe, "he should be rich, -happy." -Caderousse smiled bitterly. "Yes, happy as myself," said he. -"What M. Morrel unhappy?" exclaimed the abbe. -"He is reduced almost to the last extremity nay, he is -almost at the point of dishonor." -"How?" -"Yes," continued Caderousse, "so it is after five and -twenty years of labor, after having acquired a most -honorable name in the trade of Marseilles, M. Morrel is -utterly ruined he has lost five ships in two years, has -suffered by the bankruptcy of three large houses, and his -only hope now is in that very Pharaon which poor Dantes -commanded, and which is expected from the Indies with a -cargo of cochineal and indigo. If this ship founders, like -the others, he is a ruined man." -"And has the unfortunate man wife or children?" inquired the -abbe. -"Yes, he has a wife, who through everything has behaved like -an angel he has a daughter, who was about to marry the man -she loved, but whose family now will not allow him to wed -the daughter of a ruined man he has, besides, a son, a -lieutenant in the army and, as you may suppose, all this, -instead of lessening, only augments his sorrows. If he were -alone in the world he would blow out his brains, and there -would be an end." -"Horrible" ejaculated the priest. -"And it is thus heaven recompenses virtue, sir," added -Caderousse. "You see, I, who never did a bad action but that -I have told you of am in destitution, with my poor wife -dying of fever before my very eyes, and I unable to do -anything in the world for her I shall die of hunger, as old -Dantes did, while Fernand and Danglars are rolling in -wealth." -"How is that?" -"Because their deeds have brought them good fortune, while -honest men have been reduced to misery." -"What has become of Danglars, the instigator, and therefore -the most guilty?" -"What has become of him? Why, he left Marseilles, and was -taken, on the recommendation of M. Morrel, who did not know -his crime, as cashier into a Spanish bank. During the war -with Spain he was employed in the commissariat of the French -army, and made a fortune then with that money he speculated -in the funds, and trebled or quadrupled his capital and, -having first married his banker's daughter, who left him a -widower, he has married a second time, a widow, a Madame de -Nargonne, daughter of M. de Servieux, the king's -chamberlain, who is in high favor at court. He is a -millionaire, and they have made him a baron, and now he is -the Baron Danglars, with a fine residence in the Rue de -MontBlanc, with ten horses in his stables, six footmen in -his antechamber, and I know not how many millions in his -strongbox." -"Ah" said the abbe, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy." -"Happy? Who can answer for that? Happiness or unhappiness is -the secret known but to one's self and the walls walls -have ears but no tongue but if a large fortune produces -happiness, Danglars is happy." -"And Fernand?" -"Fernand? Why, much the same story." -"But how could a poor Catalan fisherboy, without education -or resources, make a fortune? I confess this staggers me." -"And it has staggered everybody. There must have been in his -life some strange secret that no one knows." -"But, then, by what visible steps has he attained this high -fortune or high position?" -"Both, sir he has both fortune and position both." -"This must be impossible" -"It would seem so but listen, and you will understand. Some -days before the return of the emperor, Fernand was drafted. -The Bourbons left him quietly enough at the Catalans, but -Napoleon returned, a special levy was made, and Fernand was -compelled to join. I went too but as I was older than -Fernand, and had just married my poor wife, I was only sent -to the coast. Fernand was enrolled in the active troop, went -to the frontier with his regiment, and was at the battle of -Ligny. The night after that battle he was sentry at the door -of a general who carried on a secret correspondence with the -enemy. That same night the general was to go over to the -English. He proposed to Fernand to accompany him Fernand -agreed to do so, deserted his post, and followed the -general. Fernand would have been courtmartialed if Napoleon -had remained on the throne, but his action was rewarded by -the Bourbons. He returned to France with the epaulet of -sublieutenant, and as the protection of the general, who is -in the highest favor, was accorded to him, he was a captain -in , during the Spanish war that is to say, at the -time when Danglars made his early speculations. Fernand was -a Spaniard, and being sent to Spain to ascertain the feeling -of his fellowcountrymen, found Danglars there, got on very -intimate terms with him, won over the support of the -royalists at the capital and in the provinces, received -promises and made pledges on his own part, guided his -regiment by paths known to himself alone through the -mountain gorges which were held by the royalists, and, in -fact, rendered such services in this brief campaign that, -after the taking of Trocadero, he was made colonel, and -received the title of count and the cross of an officer of -the Legion of Honor." -"Destiny destiny" murmured the abbe. -"Yes, but listen this was not all. The war with Spain being -ended, Fernand's career was checked by the long peace which -seemed likely to endure throughout Europe. Greece only had -risen against Turkey, and had begun her war of independence -all eyes were turned towards Athens it was the fashion to -pity and support the Greeks. The French government, without -protecting them openly, as you know, gave countenance to -volunteer assistance. Fernand sought and obtained leave to -go and serve in Greece, still having his name kept on the -army roll. Some time after, it was stated that the Comte de -Morcerf this was the name he bore had entered the service -of Ali Pasha with the rank of instructorgeneral. Ali Pasha -was killed, as you know, but before he died he recompensed -the services of Fernand by leaving him a considerable sum, -with which he returned to France, when he was gazetted -lieutenantgeneral." -"So that now?" inquired the abbe. -"So that now," continued Caderousse, "he owns a magnificent -house No. , Rue du Helder, Paris." The abbe opened his -mouth, hesitated for a moment, then, making an effort at -selfcontrol, he said, "And Mercedes they tell me that -she has disappeared?" -"Disappeared," said Caderousse, "yes, as the sun disappears, -to rise the next day with still more splendor." -"Has she made a fortune also?" inquired the abbe, with an -ironical smile. -"Mercedes is at this moment one of the greatest ladies in -Paris," replied Caderousse. -"Go on," said the abbe "it seems as if I were listening to -the story of a dream. But I have seen things so -extraordinary, that what you tell me seems less astonishing -than it otherwise might." -"Mercedes was at first in the deepest despair at the blow -which deprived her of Edmond. I have told you of her -attempts to propitiate M. de Villefort, her devotion to the -elder Dantes. In the midst of her despair, a new affliction -overtook her. This was the departure of Fernand of -Fernand, whose crime she did not know, and whom she regarded -as her brother. Fernand went, and Mercedes remained alone. -Three months passed and still she wept no news of Edmond, -no news of Fernand, no companionship save that of an old man -who was dying with despair. One evening, after a day of -accustomed vigil at the angle of two roads leading to -Marseilles from the Catalans, she returned to her home more -depressed than ever. Suddenly she heard a step she knew, -turned anxiously around, the door opened, and Fernand, -dressed in the uniform of a sublieutenant, stood before -her. It was not the one she wished for most, but it seemed -as if a part of her past life had returned to her. Mercedes -seized Fernand's hands with a transport which he took for -love, but which was only joy at being no longer alone in the -world, and seeing at last a friend, after long hours of -solitary sorrow. And then, it must be confessed, Fernand had -never been hated he was only not precisely loved. Another -possessed all Mercedes' heart that other was absent, had -disappeared, perhaps was dead. At this last thought Mercedes -burst into a flood of tears, and wrung her hands in agony -but the thought, which she had always repelled before when -it was suggested to her by another, came now in full force -upon her mind and then, too, old Dantes incessantly said to -her, "Our Edmond is dead if he were not, he would return to -us.' The old man died, as I have told you had he lived, -Mercedes, perchance, had not become the wife of another, for -he would have been there to reproach her infidelity. Fernand -saw this, and when he learned of the old man's death he -returned. He was now a lieutenant. At his first coming he -had not said a word of love to Mercedes at the second he -reminded her that he loved her. Mercedes begged for six -months more in which to await and mourn for Edmond." -"So that," said the abbe, with a bitter smile, "that makes -eighteen months in all. What more could the most devoted -lover desire?" Then he murmured the words of the English -poet, ""Frailty, thy name is woman.'" -"Six months afterwards," continued Caderousse, "the marriage -took place in the church of Accoules." -"The very church in which she was to have married Edmond," -murmured the priest "there was only a change of -bridegrooms." -"Well, Mercedes was married," proceeded Caderousse "but -although in the eyes of the world she appeared calm, she -nearly fainted as she passed La Reserve, where, eighteen -months before, the betrothal had been celebrated with him -whom she might have known she still loved had she looked to -the bottom of her heart. Fernand, more happy, but not more -at his ease for I saw at this time he was in constant -dread of Edmond's return Fernand was very anxious to get -his wife away, and to depart himself. There were too many -unpleasant possibilities associated with the Catalans, and -eight days after the wedding they left Marseilles." -"Did you ever see Mercedes again?" inquired the priest. -"Yes, during the Spanish war, at Perpignan, where Fernand -had left her she was attending to the education of her -son." The abbe started. "Her son?" said he. -"Yes," replied Caderousse, "little Albert." -"But, then, to be able to instruct her child," continued the -abbe, "she must have received an education herself. I -understood from Edmond that she was the daughter of a simple -fisherman, beautiful but uneducated." -"Oh," replied Caderousse, "did he know so little of his -lovely betrothed? Mercedes might have been a queen, sir, if -the crown were to be placed on the heads of the loveliest -and most intelligent. Fernand's fortune was already waxing -great, and she developed with his growing fortune. She -learned drawing, music everything. Besides, I believe, -between ourselves, she did this in order to distract her -mind, that she might forget and she only filled her head in -order to alleviate the weight on her heart. But now her -position in life is assured," continued Caderousse "no -doubt fortune and honors have comforted her she is rich, a -countess, and yet" Caderousse paused. -"And yet what?" asked the abbe. -"Yet, I am sure, she is not happy," said Caderousse. -"What makes you believe this?" -"Why, when I found myself utterly destitute, I thought my -old friends would, perhaps, assist me. So I went to -Danglars, who would not even receive me. I called on -Fernand, who sent me a hundred francs by his -valetdechambre." -"Then you did not see either of them?" -"No, but Madame de Morcerf saw me." -"How was that?" -"As I went away a purse fell at my feet it contained five -and twenty louis I raised my head quickly, and saw -Mercedes, who at once shut the blind." -"And M. de Villefort?" asked the abbe. -"Oh, he never was a friend of mine, I did not know him, and -I had nothing to ask of him." -"Do you not know what became of him, and the share he had in -Edmond's misfortunes?" -"No I only know that some time after Edmond's arrest, he -married Mademoiselle de SaintMeran, and soon after left -Marseilles no doubt he has been as lucky as the rest no -doubt he is as rich as Danglars, as high in station as -Fernand. I only, as you see, have remained poor, wretched, -and forgotten." -"You are mistaken, my friend," replied the abbe "God may -seem sometimes to forget for a time, while his justice -reposes, but there always comes a moment when he remembers -and behold a proof" As he spoke, the abbe took the -diamond from his pocket, and giving it to Caderousse, said, -"Here, my friend, take this diamond, it is yours." -"What, for me only?" cried Caderousse, "ah, sir, do not jest -with me" -"This diamond was to have been shared among his friends. -Edmond had one friend only, and thus it cannot be divided. -Take the diamond, then, and sell it it is worth fifty -thousand francs, and I repeat my wish that this sum may -suffice to release you from your wretchedness." -"Oh, sir," said Caderousse, putting out one hand timidly, -and with the other wiping away the perspiration which -bedewed his brow, "Oh, sir, do not make a jest of the -happiness or despair of a man." -"I know what happiness and what despair are, and I never -make a jest of such feelings. Take it, then, but in exchange -Caderousse, who touched the diamond, withdrew his hand. The -abbe smiled. "In exchange," he continued, "give me the red -silk purse that M. Morrel left on old Dantes' chimneypiece, -and which you tell me is still in your hands." Caderousse, -more and more astonished, went toward a large oaken -cupboard, opened it, and gave the abbe a long purse of faded -red silk, round which were two copper runners that had once -been gilt. The abbe took it, and in return gave Caderousse -the diamond. -"Oh, you are a man of God, sir," cried Caderousse "for no -one knew that Edmond had given you this diamond, and you -might have kept it." -"Which," said the abbe to himself, "you would have done." -The abbe rose, took his hat and gloves. "Well," he said, -"all you have told me is perfectly true, then, and I may -believe it in every particular." -"See, sir," replied Caderousse, "in this corner is a -crucifix in holy wood here on this shelf is my wife's -testament open this book, and I will swear upon it with my -hand on the crucifix. I will swear to you by my soul's -salvation, my faith as a Christian, I have told everything -to you as it occurred, and as the recording angel will tell -it to the ear of God at the day of the last judgment" -"'Tis well," said the abbe, convinced by his manner and tone -that Caderousse spoke the truth. "'Tis well, and may this -money profit you Adieu I go far from men who thus so -bitterly injure each other." The abbe with difficulty got -away from the enthusiastic thanks of Caderousse, opened the -door himself, got out and mounted his horse, once more -saluted the innkeeper, who kept uttering his loud farewells, -and then returned by the road he had travelled in coming. -When Caderousse turned around, he saw behind him La -Carconte, paler and trembling more than ever. "Is, then, all -that I have heard really true?" she inquired. -"What? That he has given the diamond to us only?" inquired -Caderousse, half bewildered with joy "yes, nothing more -true See, here it is." The woman gazed at it a moment, and -then said, in a gloomy voice, "Suppose it's false?" -Caderousse started and turned pale. "False" he muttered. -"False Why should that man give me a false diamond?" -"To get your secret without paying for it, you blockhead" -Caderousse remained for a moment aghast under the weight of -such an idea. "Oh" he said, taking up his hat, which he -placed on the red handkerchief tied round his head, "we will -soon find out." -"In what way?" -"Why, the fair is on at Beaucaire, there are always -jewellers from Paris there, and I will show it to them. Look -after the house, wife, and I shall be back in two hours," -and Caderousse left the house in haste, and ran rapidly in -the direction opposite to that which the priest had taken. -"Fifty thousand francs" muttered La Carconte when left -alone "it is a large sum of money, but it is not a -fortune." -Chapter -The Prison Register. -The day after that in which the scene we have just described -had taken place on the road between Bellegarde and -Beaucaire, a man of about thirty or two and thirty, dressed -in a bright blue frock coat, nankeen trousers, and a white -waistcoat, having the appearance and accent of an -Englishman, presented himself before the mayor of -Marseilles. "Sir," said he, "I am chief clerk of the house -of Thomson French, of Rome. We are, and have been these -ten years, connected with the house of Morrel Son, of -Marseilles. We have a hundred thousand francs or thereabouts -loaned on their securities, and we are a little uneasy at -reports that have reached us that the firm is on the brink -of ruin. I have come, therefore, express from Rome, to ask -you for information." -"Sir," replied the mayor. "I know very well that during the -last four or five years misfortune has seemed to pursue M. -Morrel. He has lost four or five vessels, and suffered by -three or four bankruptcies but it is not for me, although I -am a creditor myself to the amount of ten thousand francs, -to give any information as to the state of his finances. Ask -of me, as mayor, what is my opinion of M. Morrel, and I -shall say that he is a man honorable to the last degree, and -who has up to this time fulfilled every engagement with -scrupulous punctuality. This is all I can say, sir if you -wish to learn more, address yourself to M. de Boville, the -inspector of prisons, No. , Rue de Nouailles he has, I -believe, two hundred thousand francs in Morrel's hands, and -if there be any grounds for apprehension, as this is a -greater amount than mine, you will most probably find him -better informed than myself." -The Englishman seemed to appreciate this extreme delicacy, -made his bow and went away, proceeding with a characteristic -British stride towards the street mentioned. M. de Boville -was in his private room, and the Englishman, on perceiving -him, made a gesture of surprise, which seemed to indicate -that it was not the first time he had been in his presence. -As to M. de Boville, he was in such a state of despair, that -it was evident all the faculties of his mind, absorbed in -the thought which occupied him at the moment, did not allow -either his memory or his imagination to stray to the past. -The Englishman, with the coolness of his nation, addressed -him in terms nearly similar to those with which he had -accosted the mayor of Marseilles. "Oh, sir," exclaimed M. de -Boville, "your fears are unfortunately but too well founded, -and you see before you a man in despair. I had two hundred -thousand francs placed in the hands of Morrel Son these -two hundred thousand francs were the dowry of my daughter, -who was to be married in a fortnight, and these two hundred -thousand francs were payable, half on the th of this -month, and the other half on the th of next month. I had -informed M. Morrel of my desire to have these payments -punctually, and he has been here within the last halfhour -to tell me that if his ship, the Pharaon, did not come into -port on the th, he would be wholly unable to make this -payment." -"But," said the Englishman, "this looks very much like a -suspension of payment." -"It looks more like bankruptcy" exclaimed M. de Boville -despairingly. -The Englishman appeared to reflect a moment, and then said, -"From which it would appear, sir, that this credit -inspires you with considerable apprehension?" -"To tell you the truth, I consider it lost." -"Well, then, I will buy it of you" -"You?" -"Yes, I" -"But at a tremendous discount, of course?" -"No, for two hundred thousand francs. Our house," added the -Englishman with a laugh, "does not do things in that way." -"And you will pay" -"Ready money." And the Englishman drew from his pocket a -bundle of banknotes, which might have been twice the sum M. -de Boville feared to lose. A ray of joy passed across M. de -Boville's countenance, yet he made an effort at -selfcontrol, and said, "Sir, I ought to tell you that, -in all probability, you will not realize six per cent of -this sum." -"That's no affair of mine," replied the Englishman, "that is -the affair of the house of Thomson French, in whose name I -act. They have, perhaps, some motive to serve in hastening -the ruin of a rival firm. But all I know, sir, is, that I am -ready to hand you over this sum in exchange for your -assignment of the debt. I only ask a brokerage." -"Of course, that is perfectly just," cried M. de Boville. -"The commission is usually one and a half will you have two -three five per cent, or even more? Whatever you say." -"Sir," replied the Englishman, laughing, "I am like my -house, and do not do such things no, the commission I ask -is quite different." -"Name it, sir, I beg." -"You are the inspector of prisons?" -"I have been so these fourteen years." -"You keep the registers of entries and departures?" -"I do." -"To these registers there are added notes relative to the -prisoners?" -"There are special reports on every prisoner." -"Well, sir, I was educated at home by a poor devil of an -abbe, who disappeared suddenly. I have since learned that he -was confined in the Chateau d'If, and I should like to learn -some particulars of his death." -"What was his name?" -"The Abbe Faria." -"Oh, I recollect him perfectly," cried M. de Boville "he -was crazy." -"So they said." -"Oh, he was, decidedly." -"Very possibly but what sort of madness was it?" -"He pretended to know of an immense treasure, and offered -vast sums to the government if they would liberate him." -"Poor devil and he is dead?" -"Yes, sir, five or six months ago last February." -"You have a good memory, sir, to recollect dates so well." -"I recollect this, because the poor devil's death was -accompanied by a singular incident." -"May I ask what that was?" said the Englishman with an -expression of curiosity, which a close observer would have -been astonished at discovering in his phlegmatic -countenance. -"Oh dear, yes, sir the abbe's dungeon was forty or fifty -feet distant from that of one of Bonaparte's emissaries, -one of those who had contributed the most to the return of -the usurper in , a very resolute and very dangerous -man." -"Indeed" said the Englishman. -"Yes," replied M. de Boville "I myself had occasion to see -this man in or , and we could only go into his -dungeon with a file of soldiers. That man made a deep -impression on me I shall never forget his countenance" The -Englishman smiled imperceptibly. -"And you say, sir," he interposed, "that the two dungeons" -"Were separated by a distance of fifty feet but it appears -that this Edmond Dantes" -"This dangerous man's name was" -"Edmond Dantes. It appears, sir, that this Edmond Dantes had -procured tools, or made them, for they found a tunnel -through which the prisoners held communication with one -another." -"This tunnel was dug, no doubt, with an intention of -escape?" -"No doubt but unfortunately for the prisoners, the Abbe -Faria had an attack of catalepsy, and died." -"That must have cut short the projects of escape." -"For the dead man, yes," replied M. de Boville, "but not for -the survivor on the contrary, this Dantes saw a means of -accelerating his escape. He, no doubt, thought that -prisoners who died in the Chateau d'If were interred in an -ordinary burialground, and he conveyed the dead man into -his own cell, took his place in the sack in which they had -sewed up the corpse, and awaited the moment of interment." -"It was a bold step, and one that showed some courage," -remarked the Englishman. -"As I have already told you, sir, he was a very dangerous -man and, fortunately, by his own act disembarrassed the -government of the fears it had on his account." -"How was that?" -"How? Do you not comprehend?" -"No." -"The Chateau d'If has no cemetery, and they simply throw the -dead into the sea, after fastening a thirtysix pound -cannonball to their feet." -"Well," observed the Englishman as if he were slow of -comprehension. -"Well, they fastened a thirtysix pound ball to his feet, -and threw him into the sea." -"Really" exclaimed the Englishman. -"Yes, sir," continued the inspector of prisons. "You may -imagine the amazement of the fugitive when he found himself -flung headlong over the rocks I should like to have seen -his face at that moment." -"That would have been difficult." -"No matter," replied De Boville, in supreme goodhumor at -the certainty of recovering his two hundred thousand francs, -"no matter, I can fancy it." And he shouted with -laughter. -"So can I," said the Englishman, and he laughed too but he -laughed as the English do, "at the end of his teeth." -"And so," continued the Englishman who first gained his -composure, "he was drowned?" -"Unquestionably." -"So that the governor got rid of the dangerous and the crazy -prisoner at the same time?" -"Precisely." -"But some official document was drawn up as to this affair, -I suppose?" inquired the Englishman. -"Yes, yes, the mortuary deposition. You understand, Dantes' -relations, if he had any, might have some interest in -knowing if he were dead or alive." -"So that now, if there were anything to inherit from him, -they may do so with easy conscience. He is dead, and no -mistake about it." -"Oh, yes and they may have the fact attested whenever they -please." -"So be it," said the Englishman. "But to return to these -registers." -"True, this story has diverted our attention from them. -Excuse me." -"Excuse you for what? For the story? By no means it really -seems to me very curious." -"Yes, indeed. So, sir, you wish to see all relating to the -poor abbe, who really was gentleness itself." -"Yes, you will much oblige me." -"Go into my study here, and I will show it to you." And they -both entered M. de Boville's study. Everything was here -arranged in perfect order each register had its number, -each file of papers its place. The inspector begged the -Englishman to seat himself in an armchair, and placed -before him the register and documents relative to the -Chateau d'If, giving him all the time he desired for the -examination, while De Boville seated himself in a corner, -and began to read his newspaper. The Englishman easily found -the entries relative to the Abbe Faria but it seemed that -the history which the inspector had related interested him -greatly, for after having perused the first documents he -turned over the leaves until he reached the deposition -respecting Edmond Dantes. There he found everything arranged -in due order, the accusation, examination, Morrel's -petition, M. de Villefort's marginal notes. He folded up the -accusation quietly, and put it as quietly in his pocket -read the examination, and saw that the name of Noirtier was -not mentioned in it perused, too, the application dated -th April, , in which Morrel, by the deputy procureur's -advice, exaggerated with the best intentions for Napoleon -was then on the throne the services Dantes had rendered to -the imperial cause services which Villefort's -certificates rendered indispensable. Then he saw through the -whole thing. This petition to Napoleon, kept back by -Villefort, had become, under the second restoration, a -terrible weapon against him in the hands of the king's -attorney. He was no longer astonished when he searched on to -find in the register this note, placed in a bracket against -his name -Edmond Dantes. -An inveterate Bonapartist took an active part in the return -from the Island of Elba. -To be kept in strict solitary confinement, and to be closely -watched and guarded. -Beneath these lines was written in another hand "See note -above nothing can be done." He compared the writing in -the bracket with the writing of the certificate placed -beneath Morrel's petition, and discovered that the note in -the bracket was the same writing as the certificate that -is to say, was in Villefort's handwriting. As to the note -which accompanied this, the Englishman understood that it -might have been added by some inspector who had taken a -momentary interest in Dantes' situation, but who had, from -the remarks we have quoted, found it impossible to give any -effect to the interest he had felt. -As we have said, the inspector, from discretion, and that he -might not disturb the Abbe Faria's pupil in his researches, -had seated himself in a corner, and was reading Le Drapeau -Blanc. He did not see the Englishman fold up and place in -his pocket the accusation written by Danglars under the -arbor of La Reserve, and which had the postmark, -"Marseilles, th Feb., delivery o'clock, P.M." But it -must be said that if he had seen it, he attached so little -importance to this scrap of paper, and so much importance to -his two hundred thousand francs, that he would not have -opposed whatever the Englishman might do, however irregular -it might be. -"Thanks," said the latter, closing the register with a slam, -"I have all I want now it is for me to perform my promise. -Give me a simple assignment of your debt acknowledge -therein the receipt of the cash, and I will hand you over -the money." He rose, gave his seat to M. de Boville, who -took it without ceremony, and quickly drew up the required -assignment, while the Englishman counted out the banknotes -on the other side of the desk. -Chapter -The House of Morrel Son. -Any one who had quitted Marseilles a few years previously, -well acquainted with the interior of Morrel's warehouse, and -had returned at this date, would have found a great change. -Instead of that air of life, of comfort, and of happiness -that permeates a flourishing and prosperous business -establishment instead of merry faces at the windows, busy -clerks hurrying to and fro in the long corridors instead -of the court filled with bales of goods, reechoing with the -cries and the jokes of porters, one would have immediately -perceived all aspect of sadness and gloom. Out of all the -numerous clerks that used to fill the deserted corridor and -the empty office, but two remained. One was a young man of -three or four and twenty, who was in love with M. Morrel's -daughter, and had remained with him in spite of the efforts -of his friends to induce him to withdraw the other was an -old oneeyed cashier, called "Cocles," or "Cockeye," a -nickname given him by the young men who used to throng this -vast now almost deserted beehive, and which had so -completely replaced his real name that he would not, in all -probability, have replied to any one who addressed him by -it. -Cocles remained in M. Morrel's service, and a most singular -change had taken place in his position he had at the same -time risen to the rank of cashier, and sunk to the rank of a -servant. He was, however, the same Cocles, good, patient, -devoted, but inflexible on the subject of arithmetic, the -only point on which he would have stood firm against the -world, even against M. Morrel and strong in the -multiplicationtable, which he had at his fingers' ends, no -matter what scheme or what trap was laid to catch him. In -the midst of the disasters that befell the house, Cocles was -the only one unmoved. But this did not arise from a want of -affection on the contrary, from a firm conviction. Like the -rats that one by one forsake the doomed ship even before the -vessel weighs anchor, so all the numerous clerks had by -degrees deserted the office and the warehouse. Cocles had -seen them go without thinking of inquiring the cause of -their departure. Everything was as we have said, a question -of arithmetic to Cocles, and during twenty years he had -always seen all payments made with such exactitude, that it -seemed as impossible to him that the house should stop -payment, as it would to a miller that the river that had so -long turned his mill should cease to flow. -Nothing had as yet occurred to shake Cocles' belief the -last month's payment had been made with the most scrupulous -exactitude Cocles had detected an overbalance of fourteen -sous in his cash, and the same evening he had brought them -to M. Morrel, who, with a melancholy smile, threw them into -an almost empty drawer, saying -"Thanks, Cocles you are the pearl of cashiers." -Cocles went away perfectly happy, for this eulogium of M. -Morrel, himself the pearl of the honest men of Marseilles, -flattered him more than a present of fifty crowns. But since -the end of the month M. Morrel had passed many an anxious -hour. In order to meet the payments then due he had -collected all his resources, and, fearing lest the report of -his distress should get bruited abroad at Marseilles when he -was known to be reduced to such an extremity, he went to the -Beaucaire fair to sell his wife's and daughter's jewels and -a portion of his plate. By this means the end of the month -was passed, but his resources were now exhausted. Credit, -owing to the reports afloat, was no longer to be had and to -meet the one hundred thousand francs due on the th of the -present month, and the one hundred thousand francs due on -the th of the next month to M. de Boville, M. Morrel had, -in reality, no hope but the return of the Pharaon, of whose -departure he had learnt from a vessel which had weighed -anchor at the same time, and which had already arrived in -harbor. But this vessel which, like the Pharaon, came from -Calcutta, had been in for a fortnight, while no intelligence -had been received of the Pharaon. -Such was the state of affairs when, the day after his -interview with M. de Boville, the confidential clerk of the -house of Thomson French of Rome, presented himself at M. -Morrel's. Emmanuel received him this young man was alarmed -by the appearance of every new face, for every new face -might be that of a new creditor, come in anxiety to question -the head of the house. The young man, wishing to spare his -employer the pain of this interview, questioned the -newcomer but the stranger declared that he had nothing to -say to M. Emmanuel, and that his business was with M. Morrel -in person. Emmanuel sighed, and summoned Cocles. Cocles -appeared, and the young man bade him conduct the stranger to -M. Morrel's apartment. Cocles went first, and the stranger -followed him. On the staircase they met a beautiful girl of -sixteen or seventeen, who looked with anxiety at the -stranger. -"M. Morrel is in his room, is he not, Mademoiselle Julie?" -said the cashier. -"Yes I think so, at least," said the young girl -hesitatingly. "Go and see, Cocles, and if my father is -there, announce this gentleman." -"It will be useless to announce me, mademoiselle," returned -the Englishman. "M. Morrel does not know my name this -worthy gentleman has only to announce the confidential clerk -of the house of Thomson French of Rome, with whom your -father does business." -The young girl turned pale and continued to descend, while -the stranger and Cocles continued to mount the staircase. -She entered the office where Emmanuel was, while Cocles, by -the aid of a key he possessed, opened a door in the corner -of a landingplace on the second staircase, conducted the -stranger into an antechamber, opened a second door, which -he closed behind him, and after having left the clerk of the -house of Thomson French alone, returned and signed to him -that he could enter. The Englishman entered, and found -Morrel seated at a table, turning over the formidable -columns of his ledger, which contained the list of his -liabilities. At the sight of the stranger, M. Morrel closed -the ledger, arose, and offered a seat to the stranger and -when he had seen him seated, resumed his own chair. Fourteen -years had changed the worthy merchant, who, in his -thirtysixth year at the opening of this history, was now in -his fiftieth his hair had turned white, time and sorrow had -ploughed deep furrows on his brow, and his look, once so -firm and penetrating, was now irresolute and wandering, as -if he feared being forced to fix his attention on some -particular thought or person. The Englishman looked at him -with an air of curiosity, evidently mingled with interest. -"Monsieur," said Morrel, whose uneasiness was increased by -this examination, "you wish to speak to me?" -"Yes, monsieur you are aware from whom I come?" -"The house of Thomson French at least, so my cashier -tells me." -"He has told you rightly. The house of Thomson French had -, or , francs to pay this month in France and, -knowing your strict punctuality, have collected all the -bills bearing your signature, and charged me as they became -due to present them, and to employ the money otherwise." -Morrel sighed deeply, and passed his hand over his forehead, -which was covered with perspiration. -"So then, sir," said Morrel, "you hold bills of mine?" -"Yes, and for a considerable sum." -"What is the amount?" asked Morrel with a voice he strove to -render firm. -"Here is," said the Englishman, taking a quantity of papers -from his pocket, "an assignment of , francs to our -house by M. de Boville, the inspector of prisons, to whom -they are due. You acknowledge, of course, that you owe this -sum to him?" -"Yes he placed the money in my hands at four and a half per -cent nearly five years ago." -"When are you to pay?" -"Half the th of this month, half the th of next." -"Just so and now here are , francs payable shortly -they are all signed by you, and assigned to our house by the -holders." -"I recognize them," said Morrel, whose face was suffused, as -he thought that, for the first time in his life, he would be -unable to honor his own signature. "Is this all?" -"No, I have for the end of the month these bills which have -been assigned to us by the house of Pascal, and the house of -Wild Turner of Marseilles, amounting to nearly , -francs in all, , francs." It is impossible to -describe what Morrel suffered during this enumeration. "Two -hundred and eightyseven thousand five hundred francs," -repeated he. -"Yes, sir," replied the Englishman. "I will not," continued -he, after a moment's silence, "conceal from you, that while -your probity and exactitude up to this moment are -universally acknowledged, yet the report is current in -Marseilles that you are not able to meet your liabilities." -At this almost brutal speech Morrel turned deathly pale. -"Sir," said he, "up to this time and it is now more than -fourandtwenty years since I received the direction of this -house from my father, who had himself conducted it for five -and thirty years never has anything bearing the signature -of Morrel Son been dishonored." -"I know that," replied the Englishman. "But as a man of -honor should answer another, tell me fairly, shall you pay -these with the same punctuality?" Morrel shuddered, and -looked at the man, who spoke with more assurance than he had -hitherto shown. "To questions frankly put," said he, "a -straightforward answer should be given. Yes, I shall pay, -if, as I hope, my vessel arrives safely for its arrival -will again procure me the credit which the numerous -accidents, of which I have been the victim, have deprived -me but if the Pharaon should be lost, and this last -resource be gone" the poor man's eyes filled with tears. -"Well," said the other, "if this last resource fail you?" -"Well," returned Morrel, "it is a cruel thing to be forced -to say, but, already used to misfortune, I must habituate -myself to shame. I fear I shall be forced to suspend -payment." -"Have you no friends who could assist you?" Morrel smiled -mournfully. "In business, sir," said he, "one has no -friends, only correspondents." -"It is true," murmured the Englishman "then you have but -one hope." -"But one." -"The last?" -"The last." -"So that if this fail" -"I am ruined, completely ruined" -"As I was on my way here, a vessel was coming into port." -"I know it, sir a young man, who still adheres to my fallen -fortunes, passes a part of his time in a belvidere at the -top of the house, in hopes of being the first to announce -good news to me he has informed me of the arrival of this -ship." -"And it is not yours?" -"No, she is a Bordeaux vessel, La Gironde she comes from -India also but she is not mine." -"Perhaps she has spoken the Pharaon, and brings you some -tidings of her?" -"Shall I tell you plainly one thing, sir? I dread almost as -much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in -doubt. Uncertainty is still hope." Then in a low voice -Morrel added, "This delay is not natural. The Pharaon -left Calcutta the th February she ought to have been here -a month ago." -"What is that?" said the Englishman. "What is the meaning of -that noise?" -"Oh, oh" cried Morrel, turning pale, "what is it?" A loud -noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily, and -halfstifled sobs. Morrel rose and advanced to the door but -his strength failed him and he sank into a chair. The two -men remained opposite one another, Morrel trembling in every -limb, the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound -pity. The noise had ceased but it seemed that Morrel -expected something something had occasioned the noise, -and something must follow. The stranger fancied he heard -footsteps on the stairs and that the footsteps, which were -those of several persons, stopped at the door. A key was -inserted in the lock of the first door, and the creaking of -hinges was audible. -"There are only two persons who have the key to that door," -murmured Morrel, "Cocles and Julie." At this instant the -second door opened, and the young girl, her eyes bathed with -tears, appeared. Morrel rose tremblingly, supporting himself -by the arm of the chair. He would have spoken, but his voice -failed him. "Oh, father" said she, clasping her hands, -"forgive your child for being the bearer of evil tidings." -Morrel again changed color. Julie threw herself into his -arms. -"Oh, father, father" murmured she, "courage" -"The Pharaon has gone down, then?" said Morrel in a hoarse -voice. The young girl did not speak but she made an -affirmative sign with her head as she lay on her father's -breast. -"And the crew?" asked Morrel. -"Saved," said the girl "saved by the crew of the vessel -that has just entered the harbor." Morrel raised his two -hands to heaven with an expression of resignation and -sublime gratitude. "Thanks, my God," said he, "at least thou -strikest but me alone." A tear moistened the eye of the -phlegmatic Englishman. -"Come in, come in," said Morrel, "for I presume you are all -at the door." -Scarcely had he uttered those words than Madame Morrel -entered weeping bitterly. Emmanuel followed her, and in the -antechamber were visible the rough faces of seven or eight -halfnaked sailors. At the sight of these men the Englishman -started and advanced a step then restrained himself, and -retired into the farthest and most obscure corner of the -apartment. Madame Morrel sat down by her husband and took -one of his hands in hers, Julie still lay with her head on -his shoulder, Emmanuel stood in the centre of the chamber -and seemed to form the link between Morrel's family and the -sailors at the door. -"How did this happen?" said Morrel. -"Draw nearer, Penelon," said the young man, "and tell us all -about it." -An old seaman, bronzed by the tropical sun, advanced, -twirling the remains of a tarpaulin between his hands. -"Goodday, M. Morrel," said he, as if he had just quitted -Marseilles the previous evening, and had just returned from -Aix or Toulon. -"Goodday, Penelon," returned Morrel, who could not refrain -from smiling through his tears, "where is the captain?" -"The captain, M. Morrel, he has stayed behind sick at -Palma but please God, it won't be much, and you will see -him in a few days all alive and hearty." -"Well, now tell your story, Penelon." -Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek, placed his hand before -his mouth, turned his head, and sent a long jet of -tobaccojuice into the antechamber, advanced his foot, -balanced himself, and began, "You see, M. Morrel," said -he, "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador, -sailing with a fair breeze, southsouthwest after a week's -calm, when Captain Gaumard comes up to me I was at the -helm I should tell you and says, "Penelon, what do you -think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then -looking at them myself. "What do I think, captain? Why I -think that they are rising faster than they have any -business to do, and that they would not be so black if they -didn't mean mischief.' "That's my opinion too,' said the -captain, "and I'll take precautions accordingly. We are -carrying too much canvas. Avast, there, all hands Take in -the studdingsl's and stow the flying jib.' It was time the -squall was on us, and the vessel began to heel. "Ah,' said -the captain, "we have still too much canvas set all hands -lower the mains'l' Five minutes after, it was down and we -sailed under mizzentops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. "Well, -Penelon,' said the captain, "what makes you shake your -head?' "Why,' I says, "I still think you've got too much -on.' "I think you're right,' answered he, "we shall have a -gale.' "A gale? More than that, we shall have a tempest, or -I don't know what's what.' You could see the wind coming -like the dust at Montredon luckily the captain understood -his business. "Take in two reefs in the tops'ls,' cried the -captain "let go the bowlin's, haul the brace, lower the -to'gall'nt sails, haul out the reeftackles on the yards.'" -"That was not enough for those latitudes," said the -Englishman "I should have taken four reefs in the topsails -and furled the spanker." -His firm, sonorous, and unexpected voice made every one -start. Penelon put his hand over his eyes, and then stared -at the man who thus criticized the manoeuvres of his -captain. "We did better than that, sir," said the old sailor -respectfully "we put the helm up to run before the tempest -ten minutes after we struck our tops'ls and scudded under -bare poles." -"The vessel was very old to risk that," said the Englishman. -"Eh, it was that that did the business after pitching -heavily for twelve hours we sprung a leak. "Penelon,' said -the captain, "I think we are sinking, give me the helm, and -go down into the hold.' I gave him the helm, and descended -there was already three feet of water. "All hands to the -pumps' I shouted but it was too late, and it seemed the -more we pumped the more came in. "Ah,' said I, after four -hours' work, "since we are sinking, let us sink we can die -but once.' "That's the example you set, Penelon,' cries the -captain "very well, wait a minute.' He went into his cabin -and came back with a brace of pistols. "I will blow the -brains out of the first man who leaves the pump,' said he." -"Well done" said the Englishman. -"There's nothing gives you so much courage as good reasons," -continued the sailor "and during that time the wind had -abated, and the sea gone down, but the water kept rising -not much, only two inches an hour, but still it rose. Two -inches an hour does not seem much, but in twelve hours that -makes two feet, and three we had before, that makes five. -"Come,' said the captain, "we have done all in our power, -and M. Morrel will have nothing to reproach us with, we have -tried to save the ship, let us now save ourselves. To the -boats, my lads, as quick as you can.' Now," continued -Penelon, "you see, M. Morrel, a sailor is attached to his -ship, but still more to his life, so we did not wait to be -told twice the more so, that the ship was sinking under us, -and seemed to say, "Get along save yourselves.' We soon -launched the boat, and all eight of us got into it. The -captain descended last, or rather, he did not descend, he -would not quit the vessel so I took him round the waist, -and threw him into the boat, and then I jumped after him. It -was time, for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise -like the broadside of a manofwar. Ten minutes after she -pitched forward, then the other way, spun round and round, -and then goodby to the Pharaon. As for us, we were three -days without anything to eat or drink, so that we began to -think of drawing lots who should feed the rest, when we saw -La Gironde we made signals of distress, she perceived us, -made for us, and took us all on board. There now, M. Morrel, -that's the whole truth, on the honor of a sailor is not it -true, you fellows there?" A general murmur of approbation -showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their -misfortunes and sufferings. -"Well, well," said M. Morrel, "I know there was no one in -fault but destiny. It was the will of God that this should -happen, blessed be his name. What wages are due to you?" -"Oh, don't let us talk of that, M. Morrel." -"Yes, but we will talk of it." -"Well, then, three months," said Penelon. -"Cocles, pay two hundred francs to each of these good -fellows," said Morrel. "At another time," added be, "I -should have said, Give them, besides, two hundred francs -over as a present but times are changed, and the little -money that remains to me is not my own." -Penelon turned to his companions, and exchanged a few words -with them. -"As for that, M. Morrel," said he, again turning his quid, -"as for that" -"As for what?" -"The money." -"Well" -"Well, we all say that fifty francs will be enough for us at -present, and that we will wait for the rest." -"Thanks, my friends, thanks" cried Morrel gratefully "take -it take it and if you can find another employer, enter -his service you are free to do so." These last words -produced a prodigious effect on the seaman. Penelon nearly -swallowed his quid fortunately he recovered. "What, M. -Morrel" said he in a low voice, "you send us away you are -then angry with us" -"No, no," said M. Morrel, "I am not angry, quite the -contrary, and I do not send you away but I have no more -ships, and therefore I do not want any sailors." -"No more ships" returned Penelon "well, then, you'll build -some we'll wait for you." -"I have no money to build ships with, Penelon," said the -poor owner mournfully, "so I cannot accept your kind offer." -"No more money? Then you must not pay us we can scud, like -the Pharaon, under bare poles." -"Enough, enough" cried Morrel, almost overpowered "leave -me, I pray you we shall meet again in a happier time. -Emmanuel, go with them, and see that my orders are -executed." -"At least, we shall see each other again, M. Morrel?" asked -Penelon. -"Yes I hope so, at least. Now go." He made a sign to -Cocles, who went first the seamen followed him and Emmanuel -brought up the rear. "Now," said the owner to his wife and -daughter, "leave me I wish to speak with this gentleman." -And he glanced towards the clerk of Thomson French, who -had remained motionless in the corner during this scene, in -which he had taken no part, except the few words we have -mentioned. The two women looked at this person whose -presence they had entirely forgotten, and retired but, as -she left the apartment, Julie gave the stranger a -supplicating glance, to which he replied by a smile that an -indifferent spectator would have been surprised to see on -his stern features. The two men were left alone. "Well, -sir," said Morrel, sinking into a chair, "you have heard -all, and I have nothing further to tell you." -"I see," returned the Englishman, "that a fresh and -unmerited misfortune his overwhelmed you, and this only -increases my desire to serve you." -"Oh, sir" cried Morrel. -"Let me see," continued the stranger, "I am one of your -largest creditors." -"Your bills, at least, are the first that will fall due." -"Do you wish for time to pay?" -"A delay would save my honor, and consequently my life." -"How long a delay do you wish for?" Morrel reflected. -"Two months," said he. -"I will give you three," replied the stranger. -"But," asked Morrel, "will the house of Thomson French -consent?" -"Oh, I take everything on myself. Today is the th of -June." -"Yes." -"Well, renew these bills up to the th of September and on -the th of September at eleven o'clock the hand of the -clock pointed to eleven, I shall come to receive the -money." -"I shall expect you," returned Morrel "and I will pay you -or I shall be dead." These last words were uttered in so -low a tone that the stranger could not hear them. The bills -were renewed, the old ones destroyed, and the poor -shipowner found himself with three months before him to -collect his resources. The Englishman received his thanks -with the phlegm peculiar to his nation and Morrel, -overwhelming him with grateful blessings, conducted him to -the staircase. The stranger met Julie on the stairs she -pretended to be descending, but in reality she was waiting -for him. "Oh, sir" said she, clasping her hands. -"Mademoiselle," said the stranger, "one day you will receive -a letter signed "Sinbad the Sailor.' Do exactly what the -letter bids you, however strange it may appear." -"Yes, sir," returned Julie. -"Do you promise?" -"I swear to you I will." -"It is well. Adieu, mademoiselle. Continue to be the good, -sweet girl you are at present, and I have great hopes that -heaven will reward you by giving you Emmanuel for a -husband." -Julie uttered a faint cry, blushed like a rose, and leaned -against the baluster. The stranger waved his hand, and -continued to descend. In the court he found Penelon, who, -with a rouleau of a hundred francs in either hand, seemed -unable to make up his mind to retain them. "Come with me, my -friend," said the Englishman "I wish to speak to you." -Chapter -The Fifth of September. -The extension provided for by the agent of Thomson French, -at the moment when Morrel expected it least, was to the poor -shipowner so decided a stroke of good fortune that he almost -dared to believe that fate was at length grown weary of -wasting her spite upon him. The same day he told his wife, -Emmanuel, and his daughter all that had occurred and a ray -of hope, if not of tranquillity, returned to the family. -Unfortunately, however, Morrel had not only engagements with -the house of Thomson French, who had shown themselves so -considerate towards him and, as he had said, in business he -had correspondents, and not friends. When he thought the -matter over, he could by no means account for this generous -conduct on the part of Thomson French towards him and -could only attribute it to some such selfish argument as -this "We had better help a man who owes us nearly -, francs, and have those , francs at the end of -three months than hasten his ruin, and get only six or eight -per cent of our money back again." Unfortunately, whether -through envy or stupidity, all Morrel's correspondents did -not take this view and some even came to a contrary -decision. The bills signed by Morrel were presented at his -office with scrupulous exactitude, and, thanks to the delay -granted by the Englishman, were paid by Cocles with equal -punctuality. Cocles thus remained in his accustomed -tranquillity. It was Morrel alone who remembered with alarm, -that if he had to repay on the th the , francs of M. -de Boville, and on the th the , francs of bills, for -which, as well as the debt due to the inspector of prisons, -he had time granted, he must be a ruined man. -The opinion of all the commercial men was that, under the -reverses which had successively weighed down Morrel, it was -impossible for him to remain solvent. Great, therefore, was -the astonishment when at the end of the month, he cancelled -all his obligations with his usual punctuality. Still -confidence was not restored to all minds, and the general -opinion was that the complete ruin of the unfortunate -shipowner had been postponed only until the end of the -month. The month passed, and Morrel made extraordinary -efforts to get in all his resources. Formerly his paper, at -any date, was taken with confidence, and was even in -request. Morrel now tried to negotiate bills at ninety days -only, and none of the banks would give him credit. -Fortunately, Morrel had some funds coming in on which he -could rely and, as they reached him, he found himself in a -condition to meet his engagements when the end of July came. -The agent of Thomson French had not been again seen at -Marseilles the day after, or two days after his visit to -Morrel, he had disappeared and as in that city he had had -no intercourse but with the mayor, the inspector of prisons, -and M. Morrel, his departure left no trace except in the -memories of these three persons. As to the sailors of the -Pharaon, they must have found snug berths elsewhere, for -they also had disappeared. -Captain Gaumard, recovered from his illness, had returned -from Palma. He delayed presenting himself at Morrel's, but -the owner, hearing of his arrival, went to see him. The -worthy shipowner knew, from Penelon's recital, of the -captain's brave conduct during the storm, and tried to -console him. He brought him also the amount of his wages, -which Captain Gaumard had not dared to apply for. As he -descended the staircase, Morrel met Penelon, who was going -up. Penelon had, it would seem, made good use of his money, -for he was newly clad. When he saw his employer, the worthy -tar seemed much embarrassed, drew on one side into the -corner of the landingplace, passed his quid from one cheek -to the other, stared stupidly with his great eyes, and only -acknowledged the squeeze of the hand which Morrel as usual -gave him by a slight pressure in return. Morrel attributed -Penelon's embarrassment to the elegance of his attire it -was evident the good fellow had not gone to such an expense -on his own account he was, no doubt, engaged on board some -other vessel, and thus his bashfulness arose from the fact -of his not having, if we may so express ourselves, worn -mourning for the Pharaon longer. Perhaps he had come to tell -Captain Gaumard of his good luck, and to offer him -employment from his new master. "Worthy fellows" said -Morrel, as he went away, "may your new master love you as I -loved you, and be more fortunate than I have been" -August rolled by in unceasing efforts on the part of Morrel -to renew his credit or revive the old. On the th of August -it was known at Marseilles that he had left town in the -mailcoach, and then it was said that the bills would go to -protest at the end of the month, and that Morrel had gone -away and left his chief clerk Emmanuel, and his cashier -Cocles, to meet the creditors. But, contrary to all -expectation, when the st of August came, the house opened -as usual, and Cocles appeared behind the grating of the -counter, examined all bills presented with the usual -scrutiny, and, from first to last, paid all with the usual -precision. There came in, moreover, two drafts which M. -Morrel had fully anticipated, and which Cocles paid as -punctually as the bills which the shipowner had accepted. -All this was incomprehensible, and then, with the tenacity -peculiar to prophets of bad news, the failure was put off -until the end of September. On the st, Morrel returned he -was awaited by his family with extreme anxiety, for from -this journey to Paris they hoped great things. Morrel had -thought of Danglars, who was now immensely rich, and had -lain under great obligations to Morrel in former days, since -to him it was owing that Danglars entered the service of the -Spanish banker, with whom he had laid the foundations of his -vast wealth. It was said at this moment that Danglars was -worth from six to eight millions of francs, and had -unlimited credit. Danglars, then, without taking a crown -from his pocket, could save Morrel he had but to pass his -word for a loan, and Morrel was saved. Morrel had long -thought of Danglars, but had kept away from some instinctive -motive, and had delayed as long as possible availing himself -of this last resource. And Morrel was right, for he returned -home crushed by the humiliation of a refusal. Yet, on his -arrival, Morrel did not utter a complaint, or say one harsh -word. He embraced his weeping wife and daughter, pressed -Emmanuel's hand with friendly warmth, and then going to his -private room on the second floor had sent for Cocles. -"Then," said the two women to Emmanuel, "we are indeed -ruined." -It was agreed in a brief council held among them, that Julie -should write to her brother, who was in garrison at Nimes, -to come to them as speedily as possible. The poor women felt -instinctively that they required all their strength to -support the blow that impended. Besides, Maximilian Morrel, -though hardly two and twenty, had great influence over his -father. He was a strongminded, upright young man. At the -time when he decided on his profession his father had no -desire to choose for him, but had consulted young -Maximilian's taste. He had at once declared for a military -life, and had in consequence studied hard, passed -brilliantly through the Polytechnic School, and left it as -sublieutenant of the d of the line. For a year he had -held this rank, and expected promotion on the first vacancy. -In his regiment Maximilian Morrel was noted for his rigid -observance, not only of the obligations imposed on a -soldier, but also of the duties of a man and he thus gained -the name of "the stoic." We need hardly say that many of -those who gave him this epithet repeated it because they had -heard it, and did not even know what it meant. This was the -young man whom his mother and sister called to their aid to -sustain them under the serious trial which they felt they -would soon have to endure. They had not mistaken the gravity -of this event, for the moment after Morrel had entered his -private office with Cocles, Julie saw the latter leave it -pale, trembling, and his features betraying the utmost -consternation. She would have questioned him as he passed by -her, but the worthy creature hastened down the staircase -with unusual precipitation, and only raised his hands to -heaven and exclaimed, "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle, what -a dreadful misfortune Who could ever have believed it" A -moment afterwards Julie saw him go upstairs carrying two or -three heavy ledgers, a portfolio, and a bag of money. -Morrel examined the ledgers, opened the portfolio, and -counted the money. All his funds amounted to ,, or , -francs, his bills receivable up to the th to , or -,, which, making the best of everything, gave him , -francs to meet debts amounting to , francs. He had not -even the means for making a possible settlement on account. -However, when Morrel went down to his dinner, he appeared -very calm. This calmness was more alarming to the two women -than the deepest dejection would have been. After dinner -Morrel usually went out and used to take his coffee at the -Phocaean club, and read the Semaphore this day he did not -leave the house, but returned to his office. -As to Cocles, he seemed completely bewildered. For part of -the day he went into the courtyard, seated himself on a -stone with his head bare and exposed to the blazing sun. -Emmanuel tried to comfort the women, but his eloquence -faltered. The young man was too well acquainted with the -business of the house, not to feel that a great catastrophe -hung over the Morrel family. Night came, the two women had -watched, hoping that when he left his room Morrel would come -to them, but they heard him pass before their door, and -trying to conceal the noise of his footsteps. They listened -he went into his sleepingroom, and fastened the door -inside. Madame Morrel sent her daughter to bed, and half an -hour after Julie had retired, she rose, took off her shoes, -and went stealthily along the passage, to see through the -keyhole what her husband was doing. In the passage she saw a -retreating shadow it was Julie, who, uneasy herself, had -anticipated her mother. The young lady went towards Madame -Morrel. -"He is writing," she said. They had understood each other -without speaking. Madame Morrel looked again through the -keyhole, Morrel was writing but Madame Morrel remarked, -what her daughter had not observed, that her husband was -writing on stamped paper. The terrible idea that he was -writing his will flashed across her she shuddered, and yet -had not strength to utter a word. Next day M. Morrel seemed -as calm as ever, went into his office as usual, came to his -breakfast punctually, and then, after dinner, he placed his -daughter beside him, took her head in his arms, and held her -for a long time against his bosom. In the evening, Julie -told her mother, that although he was apparently so calm, -she had noticed that her father's heart beat violently. The -next two days passed in much the same way. On the evening of -the th of September, M. Morrel asked his daughter for the -key of his study. Julie trembled at this request, which -seemed to her of bad omen. Why did her father ask for this -key which she always kept, and which was only taken from her -in childhood as a punishment? The young girl looked at -Morrel. -"What have I done wrong, father," she said, "that you should -take this key from me?" -"Nothing, my dear," replied the unhappy man, the tears -starting to his eyes at this simple question, "nothing, -only I want it." Julie made a pretence to feel for the key. -"I must have left it in my room," she said. And she went -out, but instead of going to her apartment she hastened to -consult Emmanuel. "Do not give this key to your father," -said he, "and tomorrow morning, if possible, do not quit -him for a moment." She questioned Emmanuel, but he knew -nothing, or would not say what he knew. During the night, -between the th and th of September, Madame Morrel remained -listening for every sound, and, until three o'clock in the -morning, she heard her husband pacing the room in great -agitation. It was three o'clock when he threw himself on the -bed. The mother and daughter passed the night together. They -had expected Maximilian since the previous evening. At eight -o'clock in the morning Morrel entered their chamber. He was -calm but the agitation of the night was legible in his pale -and careworn visage. They did not dare to ask him how he had -slept. Morrel was kinder to his wife, more affectionate to -his daughter, than he had ever been. He could not cease -gazing at and kissing the sweet girl. Julie, mindful of -Emmanuel's request, was following her father when he quitted -the room, but he said to her quickly, "Remain with your -mother, dearest." Julie wished to accompany him. "I wish you -to do so," said he. -This was the first time Morrel had ever so spoken, but he -said it in a tone of paternal kindness, and Julie did not -dare to disobey. She remained at the same spot standing mute -and motionless. An instant afterwards the door opened, she -felt two arms encircle her, and a mouth pressed her -forehead. She looked up and uttered an exclamation of joy. -"Maximilian, my dearest brother" she cried. At these words -Madame Morrel rose, and threw herself into her son's arms. -"Mother," said the young man, looking alternately at Madame -Morrel and her daughter, "what has occurred what has -happened? Your letter has frightened me, and I have come -hither with all speed." -"Julie," said Madame Morrel, making a sign to the young man, -"go and tell your father that Maximilian has just arrived." -The young lady rushed out of the apartment, but on the first -step of the staircase she found a man holding a letter in -his hand. -"Are you not Mademoiselle Julie Morrel?" inquired the man, -with a strong Italian accent. -"Yes, sir," replied Julie with hesitation "what is your -pleasure? I do not know you." -"Read this letter," he said, handing it to her. Julie -hesitated. "It concerns the best interests of your father," -said the messenger. -The young girl hastily took the letter from him. She opened -it quickly and read -"Go this moment to the Allees de Meillan, enter the house -No. , ask the porter for the key of the room on the fifth -floor, enter the apartment, take from the corner of the -mantelpiece a purse netted in red silk, and give it to your -father. It is important that he should receive it before -eleven o'clock. You promised to obey me implicitly. Remember -your oath. -"Sinbad the Sailor." -The young girl uttered a joyful cry, raised her eyes, looked -round to question the messenger, but he had disappeared. She -cast her eyes again over the note to peruse it a second -time, and saw there was a postscript. She read -"It is important that you should fulfil this mission in -person and alone. If you go accompanied by any other person, -or should any one else go in your place, the porter will -reply that he does not know anything about it." -This postscript decreased greatly the young girl's -happiness. Was there nothing to fear? was there not some -snare laid for her? Her innocence had kept her in ignorance -of the dangers that might assail a young girl of her age. -But there is no need to know danger in order to fear it -indeed, it may be observed, that it is usually unknown -perils that inspire the greatest terror. -Julie hesitated, and resolved to take counsel. Yet, through -a singular impulse, it was neither to her mother nor her -brother that she applied, but to Emmanuel. She hastened down -and told him what had occurred on the day when the agent of -Thomson French had come to her father's, related the scene -on the staircase, repeated the promise she had made, and -showed him the letter. "You must go, then, mademoiselle," -said Emmanuel. -"Go there?" murmured Julie. -"Yes I will accompany you." -"But did you not read that I must be alone?" said Julie. -"And you shall be alone," replied the young man. "I will -await you at the corner of the Rue de Musee, and if you are -so long absent as to make me uneasy, I will hasten to rejoin -you, and woe to him of whom you shall have cause to complain -to me" -"Then, Emmanuel?" said the young girl with hesitation, "it -is your opinion that I should obey this invitation?" -"Yes. Did not the messenger say your father's safety -depended upon it?" -"But what danger threatens him, then, Emmanuel?" she asked. -Emmanuel hesitated a moment, but his desire to make Julie -decide immediately made him reply. -"Listen," he said "today is the th of September, is it -not?" -"Yes." -"Today, then, at eleven o'clock, your father has nearly -three hundred thousand francs to pay?" -"Yes, we know that." -"Well, then," continued Emmanuel, "we have not fifteen -thousand francs in the house." -"What will happen then?" -"Why, if today before eleven o'clock your father has not -found someone who will come to his aid, he will be compelled -at twelve o'clock to declare himself a bankrupt." -"Oh, come, then, come" cried she, hastening away with the -young man. During this time, Madame Morrel had told her son -everything. The young man knew quite well that, after the -succession of misfortunes which had befallen his father, -great changes had taken place in the style of living and -housekeeping but he did not know that matters had reached -such a point. He was thunderstruck. Then, rushing hastily -out of the apartment, he ran upstairs, expecting to find -his father in his study, but he rapped there in vain. -While he was yet at the door of the study he heard the -bedroom door open, turned, and saw his father. Instead of -going direct to his study, M. Morrel had returned to his -bedchamber, which he was only this moment quitting. Morrel -uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of his son, of whose -arrival he was ignorant. He remained motionless on the spot, -pressing with his left hand something he had concealed under -his coat. Maximilian sprang down the staircase, and threw -his arms round his father's neck but suddenly he recoiled, -and placed his right hand on Morrel's breast. "Father," he -exclaimed, turning pale as death, "what are you going to do -with that brace of pistols under your coat?" -"Oh, this is what I feared" said Morrel. -"Father, father, in heaven's name," exclaimed the young man, -"what are these weapons for?" -"Maximilian," replied Morrel, looking fixedly at his son, -"you are a man, and a man of honor. Come, and I will explain -to you." -And with a firm step Morrel went up to his study, while -Maximilian followed him, trembling as he went. Morrel opened -the door, and closed it behind his son then, crossing the -anteroom, went to his desk on which he placed the pistols, -and pointed with his finger to an open ledger. In this -ledger was made out an exact balancesheet of his affair's. -Morrel had to pay, within half an hour, , francs. All -he possessed was , francs. "Read" said Morrel. -The young man was overwhelmed as he read. Morrel said not a -word. What could he say? What need he add to such a -desperate proof in figures? "And have you done all that is -possible, father, to meet this disastrous result?" asked the -young man, after a moment's pause. "I have," replied Morrel. -"You have no money coming in on which you can rely?" -"None." -"You have exhausted every resource?" -"All." -"And in half an hour," said Maximilian in a gloomy voice, -"our name is dishonored" -"Blood washes out dishonor," said Morrel. -"You are right, father I understand you." Then extending -his hand towards one of the pistols, he said, "There is one -for you and one for me thanks" Morrel caught his hand. -"Your mother your sister Who will support them?" A -shudder ran through the young man's frame. "Father," he -said, "do you reflect that you are bidding me to live?" -"Yes, I do so bid you," answered Morrel, "it is your duty. -You have a calm, strong mind, Maximilian. Maximilian, you -are no ordinary man. I make no requests or commands I only -ask you to examine my position as if it were your own, and -then judge for yourself." -The young man reflected for a moment, then an expression of -sublime resignation appeared in his eyes, and with a slow -and sad gesture he took off his two epaulets, the insignia -of his rank. "Be it so, then, my father," he said, extending -his hand to Morrel, "die in peace, my father I will live." -Morrel was about to cast himself on his knees before his -son, but Maximilian caught him in his arms, and those two -noble hearts were pressed against each other for a moment. -"You know it is not my fault," said Morrel. Maximilian -smiled. "I know, father, you are the most honorable man I -have ever known." -"Good, my son. And now there is no more to be said go and -rejoin your mother and sister." -"My father," said the young man, bending his knee, "bless -me" Morrel took the head of his son between his two hands, -drew him forward, and kissing his forehead several times -said, "Oh, yes, yes, I bless you in my own name, and in the -name of three generations of irreproachable men, who say -through me, "The edifice which misfortune has destroyed, -providence may build up again.' On seeing me die such a -death, the most inexorable will have pity on you. To you, -perhaps, they will accord the time they have refused to me. -Then do your best to keep our name free from dishonor. Go to -work, labor, young man, struggle ardently and courageously -live, yourself, your mother and sister, with the most rigid -economy, so that from day to day the property of those whom -I leave in your hands may augment and fructify. Reflect how -glorious a day it will be, how grand, how solemn, that day -of complete restoration, on which you will say in this very -office, "My father died because he could not do what I have -this day done but he died calmly and peaceably, because in -dying he knew what I should do.'" -"My father, my father" cried the young man, "why should you -not live?" -"If I live, all would be changed if I live, interest would -be converted into doubt, pity into hostility if I live I am -only a man who his broken his word, failed in his -engagements in fact, only a bankrupt. If, on the -contrary, I die, remember, Maximilian, my corpse is that of -an honest but unfortunate man. Living, my best friends would -avoid my house dead, all Marseilles will follow me in tears -to my last home. Living, you would feel shame at my name -dead, you may raise your head and say, "I am the son of him -you killed, because, for the first time, he has been -compelled to break his word.'" -The young man uttered a groan, but appeared resigned. -"And now," said Morrel, "leave me alone, and endeavor to -keep your mother and sister away." -"Will you not see my sister once more?" asked Maximilian. A -last but final hope was concealed by the young man in the -effect of this interview, and therefore he had suggested it. -Morrel shook his head. "I saw her this morning, and bade her -adieu." -"Have you no particular commands to leave with me, my -father?" inquired Maximilian in a faltering voice. -"Yes my son, and a sacred command." -"Say it, my father." -"The house of Thomson French is the only one who, from -humanity, or, it may be, selfishness it is not for me to -read men's hearts has had any pity for me. Its agent, who -will in ten minutes present himself to receive the amount of -a bill of , francs, I will not say granted, but -offered me three months. Let this house be the first repaid, -my son, and respect this man." -"Father, I will," said Maximilian. -"And now, once more, adieu," said Morrel. "Go, leave me I -would be alone. You will find my will in the secretary in my -bedroom." -The young man remained standing and motionless, having but -the force of will and not the power of execution. -"Hear me, Maximilian," said his father. "Suppose I was a -soldier like you, and ordered to carry a certain redoubt, -and you knew I must be killed in the assault, would you not -say to me, as you said just now, "Go, father for you are -dishonored by delay, and death is preferable to shame'" -"Yes, yes," said the young man, "yes" and once again -embracing his father with convulsive pressure, he said, "Be -it so, my father." -And he rushed out of the study. When his son had left him, -Morrel remained an instant standing with his eyes fixed on -the door then putting forth his arm, he pulled the bell. -After a moment's interval, Cocles appeared. -It was no longer the same man the fearful revelations of -the three last days had crushed him. This thought the -house of Morrel is about to stop payment bent him to the -earth more than twenty years would otherwise have done. -"My worthy Cocles," said Morrel in a tone impossible to -describe, "do you remain in the antechamber. When the -gentleman who came three months ago the agent of Thomson - French arrives, announce his arrival to me." Cocles -made no reply he made a sign with his head, went into the -anteroom, and seated himself. Morrel fell back in his chair, -his eyes fixed on the clock there were seven minutes left, -that was all. The hand moved on with incredible rapidity, he -seemed to see its motion. -What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of -his agony cannot be told in words. He was still -comparatively young, he was surrounded by the loving care of -a devoted family, but he had convinced himself by a course -of reasoning, illogical perhaps, yet certainly plausible, -that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the -world, even life itself. To form the slightest idea of his -feelings, one must have seen his face with its expression of -enforced resignation and its tearmoistened eyes raised to -heaven. The minute hand moved on. The pistols were loaded -he stretched forth his hand, took one up, and murmured his -daughter's name. Then he laid it down seized his pen, and -wrote a few words. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a -sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. Then he turned -again to the clock, counting time now not by minutes, but by -seconds. He took up the deadly weapon again, his lips parted -and his eyes fixed on the clock, and then shuddered at the -click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. At this moment -of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow, a -pang stronger than death clutched at his heartstrings. He -heard the door of the staircase creak on its hinges the -clock gave its warning to strike eleven the door of his -study opened Morrel did not turn round he expected these -words of Cocles, "The agent of Thomson French." -He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. -Suddenly he heard a cry it was his daughter's voice. He -turned and saw Julie. The pistol fell from his hands. "My -father" cried the young girl, out of breath, and half dead -with joy "saved, you are saved" And she threw herself -into his arms, holding in her extended hand a red, netted -silk purse. -"Saved, my child" said Morrel "what do you mean?" -"Yes, saved saved See, see" said the young girl. -Morrel took the purse, and started as he did so, for a vague -remembrance reminded him that it once belonged to himself. -At one end was the receipted bill for the , francs, -and at the other was a diamond as large as a hazelnut, with -these words on a small slip of parchment Julie's Dowry. -Morrel passed his hand over his brow it seemed to him a -dream. At this moment the clock struck eleven. He felt as if -each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart. "Explain, my -child," he said, "Explain, my child," he said, "explain -where did you find this purse?" -"In a house in the Allees de Meillan, No. , on the corner -of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor." -"But," cried Morrel, "this purse is not yours" Julie handed -to her father the letter she had received in the morning. -"And did you go alone?" asked Morrel, after he had read it. -"Emmanuel accompanied me, father. He was to have waited for -me at the corner of the Rue de Musee, but, strange to say, -he was not there when I returned." -"Monsieur Morrel" exclaimed a voice on the stairs. -"Monsieur Morrel" -"It is his voice" said Julie. At this moment Emmanuel -entered, his countenance full of animation and joy. "The -Pharaon" he cried "the Pharaon" -"What what the Pharaon Are you mad, Emmanuel? You -know the vessel is lost." -"The Pharaon, sir they signal the Pharaon The Pharaon is -entering the harbor" Morrel fell back in his chair, his -strength was failing him his understanding weakened by such -events, refused to comprehend such incredible, unheardof, -fabulous facts. But his son came in. "Father," cried -Maximilian, "how could you say the Pharaon was lost? The -lookout has signalled her, and they say she is now coming -into port." -"My dear friends," said Morrel, "if this be so, it must be a -miracle of heaven Impossible, impossible" -But what was real and not less incredible was the purse he -held in his hand, the acceptance receipted the splendid -diamond. -"Ah, sir," exclaimed Cocles, "what can it mean? the -Pharaon?" -"Come, dear ones," said Morrel, rising from his seat, "let -us go and see, and heaven have pity upon us if it be false -intelligence" They all went out, and on the stairs met -Madame Morrel, who had been afraid to go up into the study. -In a moment they were at the Cannebiere. There was a crowd -on the pier. All the crowd gave way before Morrel. "The -Pharaon, the Pharaon" said every voice. -And, wonderful to see, in front of the tower of SaintJean, -was a ship bearing on her stern these words, printed in -white letters, "The Pharaon, Morrel Son, of Marseilles." -She was the exact duplicate of the other Pharaon, and -loaded, as that had been, with cochineal and indigo. She -cast anchor, clued up sails, and on the deck was Captain -Gaumard giving orders, and good old Penelon making signals -to M. Morrel. To doubt any longer was impossible there was -the evidence of the senses, and ten thousand persons who -came to corroborate the testimony. As Morrel and his son -embraced on the pierhead, in the presence and amid the -applause of the whole city witnessing this event, a man, -with his face halfcovered by a black beard, and who, -concealed behind the sentrybox, watched the scene with -delight, uttered these words in a low tone "Be happy, noble -heart, be blessed for all the good thou hast done and wilt -do hereafter, and let my gratitude remain in obscurity like -your good deeds." -And with a smile expressive of supreme content, he left his -hidingplace, and without being observed, descended one of -the flights of steps provided for debarkation, and hailing -three times, shouted "Jacopo, Jacopo, Jacopo" Then a launch -came to shore, took him on board, and conveyed him to a -yacht splendidly fitted up, on whose deck he sprung with the -activity of a sailor thence he once again looked towards -Morrel, who, weeping with joy, was shaking hands most -cordially with all the crowd around him, and thanking with a -look the unknown benefactor whom he seemed to be seeking in -the skies. "And now," said the unknown, "farewell kindness, -humanity, and gratitude Farewell to all the feelings that -expand the heart I have been heaven's substitute to -recompense the good now the god of vengeance yields to me -his power to punish the wicked" At these words he gave a -signal, and, as if only awaiting this signal, the yacht -instantly put out to sea. -Chapter -Italy Sinbad the Sailor. -Towards the beginning of the year , two young men -belonging to the first society of Paris, the Vicomte Albert -de Morcerf and the Baron Franz d'Epinay, were at Florence. -They had agreed to see the Carnival at Rome that year, and -that Franz, who for the last three or four years had -inhabited Italy, should act as cicerone to Albert. As it is -no inconsiderable affair to spend the Carnival at Rome, -especially when you have no great desire to sleep on the -Piazza del Popolo, or the Campo Vaccino, they wrote to -Signor Pastrini, the proprietor of the Hotel de Londres, -Piazza di Spagna, to reserve comfortable apartments for -them. Signor Pastrini replied that he had only two rooms and -a parlor on the third floor, which he offered at the low -charge of a louis per diem. They accepted his offer but -wishing to make the best use of the time that was left, -Albert started for Naples. As for Franz, he remained at -Florence, and after having passed a few days in exploring -the paradise of the Cascine, and spending two or three -evenings at the houses of the Florentine nobility, he took a -fancy into his head having already visited Corsica, the -cradle of Bonaparte to visit Elba, the waitingplace of -Napoleon. -One evening he cast off the painter of a sailboat from the -iron ring that secured it to the dock at Leghorn, wrapped -himself in his coat and lay down, and said to the crew, -"To the Island of Elba" The boat shot out of the harbor -like a bird and the next morning Franz disembarked at -PortoFerrajo. He traversed the island, after having -followed the traces which the footsteps of the giant have -left, and reembarked for Marciana. Two hours after he again -landed at Pianosa, where he was assured that red partridges -abounded. The sport was bad Franz only succeeded in killing -a few partridges, and, like every unsuccessful sportsman, he -returned to the boat very much out of temper. "Ah, if your -excellency chose," said the captain, "you might have capital -sport." -"Where?" -"Do you see that island?" continued the captain, pointing to -a conical pile rising from the indigo sea. -"Well, what is this island?" -"The Island of Monte Cristo." -"But I have no permission to shoot over this island." -"Your excellency does not require a permit, for the island -is uninhabited." -"Ah, indeed" said the young man. "A desert island in the -midst of the Mediterranean must be a curiosity." -"It is very natural this island is a mass of rocks, and -does not contain an acre of land capable of cultivation." -"To whom does this island belong?" -"To Tuscany." -"What game shall I find there" -"Thousands of wild goats." -"Who live upon the stones, I suppose," said Franz with an -incredulous smile. -"No, but by browsing the shrubs and trees that grow out of -the crevices of the rocks." -"Where can I sleep?" -"On shore in the grottos, or on board in your cloak -besides, if your excellency pleases, we can leave as soon as -you like we can sail as well by night as by day, and if -the wind drops we can use our oars." -As Franz had sufficient time, and his apartments at Rome -were not yet available, he accepted the proposition. Upon -his answer in the affirmative, the sailors exchanged a few -words together in a low tone. "Well," asked he, "what now? -Is there any difficulty in the way?" -"No." replied the captain, "but we must warn your excellency -that the island is an infected port." -"What do you mean?" -"Monte Cristo although uninhabited, yet serves occasionally -as a refuge for the smugglers and pirates who come from -Corsica, Sardinia, and Africa, and if it becomes known that -we have been there, we shall have to perform quarantine for -six days on our return to Leghorn." -"The deuce That puts a different face on the matter. Six -days Why, that's as long as the Almighty took to make the -world Too long a wait too long." -"But who will say your excellency has been to Monte Cristo?" -"Oh, I shall not," cried Franz. -"Nor I, nor I," chorused the sailors. -"Then steer for Monte Cristo." -The captain gave his orders, the helm was put up, and the -boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. Franz -waited until all was in order, and when the sail was filled, -and the four sailors had taken their places three -forward, and one at the helm he resumed the conversation. -"Gaetano," said he to the captain, "you tell me Monte Cristo -serves as a refuge for pirates, who are, it seems to me, a -very different kind of game from the goats." -"Yes, your excellency, and it is true." -"I knew there were smugglers, but I thought that since the -capture of Algiers, and the destruction of the regency, -pirates existed only in the romances of Cooper and Captain -Marryat." -"Your excellency is mistaken there are pirates, like the -bandits who were believed to have been exterminated by Pope -Leo XII., and who yet, every day, rob travellers at the -gates of Rome. Has not your excellency heard that the French -charge d'affaires was robbed six months ago within five -hundred paces of Velletri?" -"Oh, yes, I heard that." -"Well, then, if, like us, your excellency lived at Leghorn, -you would hear, from time to time, that a little merchant -vessel, or an English yacht that was expected at Bastia, at -PortoFerrajo, or at Civita Vecchia, has not arrived no one -knows what has become of it, but, doubtless, it has struck -on a rock and foundered. Now this rock it has met has been a -long and narrow boat, manned by six or eight men, who have -surprised and plundered it, some dark and stormy night, near -some desert and gloomy island, as bandits plunder a carriage -in the recesses of a forest." -"But," asked Franz, who lay wrapped in his cloak at the -bottom of the boat, "why do not those who have been -plundered complain to the French, Sardinian, or Tuscan -governments?" -"Why?" said Gaetano with a smile. -"Yes, why?" -"Because, in the first place, they transfer from the vessel -to their own boat whatever they think worth taking, then -they bind the crew hand and foot, they attach to every one's -neck a four and twenty pound ball, a large hole is chopped -in the vessel's bottom, and then they leave her. At the end -of ten minutes the vessel begins to roll heavily and settle -down. First one gun'l goes under, then the other. Then they -lift and sink again, and both go under at once. All at once -there's a noise like a cannon that's the air blowing up -the deck. Soon the water rushes out of the scupperholes -like a whale spouting, the vessel gives a last groan, spins -round and round, and disappears, forming a vast whirlpool in -the ocean, and then all is over, so that in five minutes -nothing but the eye of God can see the vessel where she lies -at the bottom of the sea. Do you understand now," said the -captain, "why no complaints are made to the government, and -why the vessel never reaches port?" -It is probable that if Gaetano had related this previous to -proposing the expedition, Franz would have hesitated, but -now that they had started, he thought it would be cowardly -to draw back. He was one of those men who do not rashly -court danger, but if danger presents itself, combat it with -the most unalterable coolness. Calm and resolute, he treated -any peril as he would an adversary in a duel, calculated -its probable method of approach retreated, if at all, as a -point of strategy and not from cowardice was quick to see -an opening for attack, and won victory at a single thrust. -"Bah" said he, "I have travelled through Sicily and -Calabria I have sailed two months in the Archipelago, and -yet I never saw even the shadow of a bandit or a pirate." -"I did not tell your excellency this to deter you from your -project," replied Gaetano, "but you questioned me, and I -have answered that's all." -"Yes, and your conversation is most interesting and as I -wish to enjoy it as long as possible, steer for Monte -Cristo." -The wind blew strongly, the boat made six or seven knots an -hour, and they were rapidly reaching the end of their -voyage. As they drew near the island seemed to lift from the -sea, and the air was so clear that they could already -distinguish the rocks heaped on one another, like cannon -balls in an arsenal, with green bushes and trees growing in -the crevices. As for the sailors, although they appeared -perfectly tranquil yet it was evident that they were on the -alert, and that they carefully watched the glassy surface -over which they were sailing, and on which a few -fishingboats, with their white sails, were alone visible. -They were within fifteen miles of Monte Cristo when the sun -began to set behind Corsica, whose mountains appeared -against the sky, showing their rugged peaks in bold relief -this mass of rock, like the giant Adamastor, rose dead -ahead, a formidable barrier, and intercepting the light that -gilded its massive peaks so that the voyagers were in -shadow. Little by little the shadow rose higher and seemed -to drive before it the last rays of the expiring day at -last the reflection rested on the summit of the mountain, -where it paused an instant, like the fiery crest of a -volcano, then gloom gradually covered the summit as it had -covered the base, and the island now only appeared to be a -gray mountain that grew continually darker half an hour -after, the night was quite dark. -Fortunately, the mariners were used to these latitudes, and -knew every rock in the Tuscan Archipelago for in the midst -of this obscurity Franz was not without uneasiness -Corsica had long since disappeared, and Monte Cristo itself -was invisible but the sailors seemed, like the lynx, to see -in the dark, and the pilot who steered did not evince the -slightest hesitation. An hour had passed since the sun had -set, when Franz fancied he saw, at a quarter of a mile to -the left, a dark mass, but he could not precisely make out -what it was, and fearing to excite the mirth of the sailors -by mistaking a floating cloud for land, he remained silent -suddenly a great light appeared on the strand land might -resemble a cloud, but the fire was not a meteor. "What is -this light?" asked he. -"Hush" said the captain "it is a fire." -"But you told me the island was uninhabited?" -"I said there were no fixed habitations on it, but I said -also that it served sometimes as a harbor for smugglers." -"And for pirates?" -"And for pirates," returned Gaetano, repeating Franz's -words. "It is for that reason I have given orders to pass -the island, for, as you see, the fire is behind us." -"But this fire?" continued Franz. "It seems to me rather -reassuring than otherwise men who did not wish to be seen -would not light a fire." -"Oh, that goes for nothing," said Gaetano. "If you can guess -the position of the island in the darkness, you will see -that the fire cannot be seen from the side or from Pianosa, -but only from the sea." -"You think, then, this fire indicates the presence of -unpleasant neighbors?" -"That is what we must find out," returned Gaetano, fixing -his eyes on this terrestrial star. -"How can you find out?" -"You shall see." Gaetano consulted with his companions, and -after five minutes' discussion a manoeuvre was executed -which caused the vessel to tack about, they returned the way -they had come, and in a few minutes the fire disappeared, -hidden by an elevation of the land. The pilot again changed -the course of the boat, which rapidly approached the island, -and was soon within fifty paces of it. Gaetano lowered the -sail, and the boat came to rest. All this was done in -silence, and from the moment that their course was changed -not a word was spoken. -Gaetano, who had proposed the expedition, had taken all the -responsibility on himself the four sailors fixed their eyes -on him, while they got out their oars and held themselves in -readiness to row away, which, thanks to the darkness, would -not be difficult. As for Franz, he examined his arms with -the utmost coolness he had two doublebarrelled guns and a -rifle he loaded them, looked at the priming, and waited -quietly. During this time the captain had thrown off his -vest and shirt, and secured his trousers round his waist -his feet were naked, so he had no shoes and stockings to -take off after these preparations he placed his finger on -his lips, and lowering himself noiselessly into the sea, -swam towards the shore with such precaution that it was -impossible to hear the slightest sound he could only be -traced by the phosphorescent line in his wake. This track -soon disappeared it was evident that he had touched the -shore. Every one on board remained motionless for half an -hour, when the same luminous track was again observed, and -the swimmer was soon on board. "Well?" exclaimed Franz and -the sailors in unison. -"They are Spanish smugglers," said he "they have with them -two Corsican bandits." -"And what are these Corsican bandits doing here with Spanish -smugglers?" -"Alas," returned the captain with an accent of the most -profound pity, "we ought always to help one another. Very -often the bandits are hard pressed by gendarmes or -carbineers well, they see a vessel, and good fellows like -us on board, they come and demand hospitality of us you -can't refuse help to a poor hunted devil we receive them, -and for greater security we stand out to sea. This costs us -nothing, and saves the life, or at least the liberty, of a -fellowcreature, who on the first occasion returns the -service by pointing out some safe spot where we can land our -goods without interruption." -"Ah" said Franz, "then you are a smuggler occasionally, -Gaetano?" -"Your excellency, we must live somehow," returned the other, -smiling impenetrably. -"Then you know the men who are now on Monte Cristo?" -"Oh, yes, we sailors are like freemasons, and recognize each -other by signs." -"And do you think we have nothing to fear if we land?" -"Nothing at all smugglers are not thieves." -"But these two Corsican bandits?" said Franz, calculating -the chances of peril. -"It is not their fault that they are bandits, but that of -the authorities." -"How so?" -"Because they are pursued for having made a stiff, as if it -was not in a Corsican's nature to revenge himself." -"What do you mean by having made a stiff? having -assassinated a man?" said Franz, continuing his -investigation. -"I mean that they have killed an enemy, which is a very -different thing," returned the captain. -"Well," said the young man, "let us demand hospitality of -these smugglers and bandits. Do you think they will grant -it?" -"Without doubt." -"How many are they?" -"Four, and the two bandits make six." -"Just our number, so that if they prove troublesome, we -shall be able to hold them in check so, for the last time, -steer to Monte Cristo." -"Yes, but your excellency will permit us to take all due -precautions." -"By all means, be as wise as Nestor and as prudent as -Ulysses I do more than permit, I exhort you." -"Silence, then" said Gaetano. -Every one obeyed. For a man who, like Franz, viewed his -position in its true light, it was a grave one. He was alone -in the darkness with sailors whom he did not know, and who -had no reason to be devoted to him who knew that he had -several thousand francs in his belt, and who had often -examined his weapons, which were very beautiful, if -not with envy, at least with curiosity. On the other hand, -he was about to land, without any other escort than these -men, on an island which had, indeed, a very religious name, -but which did not seem to Franz likely to afford him much -hospitality, thanks to the smugglers and bandits. The -history of the scuttled vessels, which had appeared -improbable during the day, seemed very probable at night -placed as he was between two possible sources of danger, he -kept his eye on the crew, and his gun in his hand. The -sailors had again hoisted sail, and the vessel was once more -cleaving the waves. Through the darkness Franz, whose eyes -were now more accustomed to it, could see the looming shore -along which the boat was sailing, and then, as they rounded -a rocky point, he saw the fire more brilliant than ever, and -about it five or six persons seated. The blaze illumined the -sea for a hundred paces around. Gaetano skirted the light, -carefully keeping the boat in the shadow then, when they -were opposite the fire, he steered to the centre of the -circle, singing a fishing song, of which his companions sung -the chorus. At the first words of the song the men seated -round the fire arose and approached the landingplace, their -eyes fixed on the boat, evidently seeking to know who the -newcomers were and what were their intentions. They soon -appeared satisfied and returned with the exception of one, -who remained at the shore to their fire, at which the -carcass of a goat was roasting. When the boat was within -twenty paces of the shore, the man on the beach, who carried -a carbine, presented arms after the manner of a sentinel, -and cried, "Who comes there?" in Sardinian. Franz coolly -cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with -this man which the traveller did not understand, but which -evidently concerned him. "Will your excellency give your -name, or remain incognito?" asked the captain. -"My name must rest unknown, merely say I am a Frenchman -travelling for pleasure." As soon as Gaetano had transmitted -this answer, the sentinel gave an order to one of the men -seated round the fire, who rose and disappeared among the -rocks. Not a word was spoken, every one seemed occupied, -Franz with his disembarkment, the sailors with their sails, -the smugglers with their goat but in the midst of all this -carelessness it was evident that they mutually observed each -other. The man who had disappeared returned suddenly on the -opposite side to that by which he had left he made a sign -with his head to the sentinel, who, turning to the boat, -said, "S'accommodi." The Italian s'accommodi is -untranslatable it means at once, "Come, enter, you are -welcome make yourself at home you are the master." It is -like that Turkish phrase of Moliere's that so astonished the -bourgeois gentleman by the number of things implied in its -utterance. The sailors did not wait for a second invitation -four strokes of the oar brought them to land Gaetano sprang -to shore, exchanged a few words with the sentinel, then his -comrades disembarked, and lastly came Franz. One of his guns -was swung over his shoulder, Gaetano had the other, and a -sailor held his rifle his dress, half artist, half dandy, -did not excite any suspicion, and, consequently, no -disquietude. The boat was moored to the shore, and they -advanced a few paces to find a comfortable bivouac but, -doubtless, the spot they chose did not suit the smuggler who -filled the post of sentinel, for he cried out, "Not that -way, if you please." -Gaetano faltered an excuse, and advanced to the opposite -side, while two sailors kindled torches at the fire to light -them on their way. They advanced about thirty paces, and -then stopped at a small esplanade surrounded with rocks, in -which seats had been cut, not unlike sentryboxes. Around in -the crevices of the rocks grew a few dwarf oaks and thick -bushes of myrtles. Franz lowered a torch, and saw by the -mass of cinders that had accumulated that he was not the -first to discover this retreat, which was, doubtless, one of -the haltingplaces of the wandering visitors of Monte -Cristo. As for his suspicions, once on terra firma, once -that he had seen the indifferent, if not friendly, -appearance of his hosts, his anxiety had quite disappeared, -or rather, at sight of the goat, had turned to appetite. He -mentioned this to Gaetano, who replied that nothing could be -more easy than to prepare a supper when they had in their -boat, bread, wine, half a dozen partridges, and a good fire -to roast them by. "Besides," added he, "if the smell of -their roast meat tempts you, I will go and offer them two of -our birds for a slice." -"You are a born diplomat," returned Franz "go and try." -Meanwhile the sailors had collected dried sticks and -branches with which they made a fire. Franz waited -impatiently, inhaling the aroma of the roasted meat, when -the captain returned with a mysterious air. -"Well," said Franz, "anything new? do they refuse?" -"On the contrary," returned Gaetano, "the chief, who was -told you were a young Frenchman, invites you to sup with -him." -"Well," observed Franz, "this chief is very polite, and I -see no objection the more so as I bring my share of the -supper." -"Oh, it is not that he has plenty, and to spare, for -supper but he makes one condition, and rather a peculiar -one, before he will receive you at his house." -"His house? Has he built one here, then?" -"No but he has a very comfortable one all the same, so they -say." -"You know this chief, then?" -"I have heard talk of him." -"Favorably or otherwise?" -"Both." -"The deuce and what is this condition?" -"That you are blindfolded, and do not take off the bandage -until he himself bids you." Franz looked at Gaetano, to see, -if possible, what he thought of this proposal. "Ah," replied -he, guessing Franz's thought, "I know this is a serious -matter." -"What should you do in my place?" -"I, who have nothing to lose, I should go." -"You would accept?" -"Yes, were it only out of curiosity." -"There is something very peculiar about this chief, then?" -"Listen," said Gaetano, lowering his voice, "I do not know -if what they say is true" he stopped to see if any one -was near. -"What do they say?" -"That this chief inhabits a cavern to which the Pitti Palace -is nothing." -"What nonsense" said Franz, reseating himself. -"It is no nonsense it is quite true. Cama, the pilot of the -Saint Ferdinand, went in once, and he came back amazed, -vowing that such treasures were only to be heard of in fairy -tales." -"Do you know," observed Franz, "that with such stories you -make me think of Ali Baba's enchanted cavern?" -"I tell you what I have been told." -"Then you advise me to accept?" -"Oh, I don't say that your excellency will do as you -please I should be sorry to advise you in the matter." -Franz pondered the matter for a few moments, concluded that -a man so rich could not have any intention of plundering him -of what little he had, and seeing only the prospect of a -good supper, accepted. Gaetano departed with the reply. -Franz was prudent, and wished to learn all he possibly could -concerning his host. He turned towards the sailor, who, -during this dialogue, had sat gravely plucking the -partridges with the air of a man proud of his office, and -asked him how these men had landed, as no vessel of any kind -was visible. -"Never mind that," returned the sailor, "I know their -vessel." -"Is it a very beautiful vessel?" -"I would not wish for a better to sail round the world." -"Of what burden is she?" -"About a hundred tons but she is built to stand any -weather. She is what the English call a yacht." -"Where was she built?" -"I know not but my own opinion is she is a Genoese." -"And how did a leader of smugglers," continued Franz, -"venture to build a vessel designed for such a purpose at -Genoa?" -"I did not say that the owner was a smuggler," replied the -sailor. -"No but Gaetano did, I thought." -"Gaetano had only seen the vessel from a distance, he had -not then spoken to any one." -"And if this person be not a smuggler, who is he?" -"A wealthy signor, who travels for his pleasure." -"Come," thought Franz, "he is still more mysterious, since -the two accounts do not agree." -"What is his name?" -"If you ask him he says Sinbad the Sailor but I doubt if it -be his real name." -"Sinbad the Sailor?" -"Yes." -"And where does he reside?" -"On the sea." -"What country does he come from?" -"I do not know." -"Have you ever seen him?" -"Sometimes." -"What sort of a man is he?" -"Your excellency will judge for yourself." -"Where will he receive me?" -"No doubt in the subterranean palace Gaetano told you of." -"Have you never had the curiosity, when you have landed and -found this island deserted, to seek for this enchanted -palace?" -"Oh, yes, more than once, but always in vain we examined -the grotto all over, but we never could find the slightest -trace of any opening they say that the door is not opened -by a key, but a magic word." -"Decidedly," muttered Franz, "this is an Arabian Nights' -adventure." -"His excellency waits for you," said a voice, which he -recognized as that of the sentinel. He was accompanied by -two of the yacht's crew. Franz drew his handkerchief from -his pocket, and presented it to the man who had spoken to -him. Without uttering a word, they bandaged his eyes with a -care that showed their apprehensions of his committing some -indiscretion. Afterwards he was made to promise that he -would not make the least attempt to raise the bandage. He -promised. Then his two guides took his arms, and he went on, -guided by them, and preceded by the sentinel. After going -about thirty paces, he smelt the appetizing odor of the kid -that was roasting, and knew thus that he was passing the -bivouac they then led him on about fifty paces farther, -evidently advancing towards that part of the shore where -they would not allow Gaetano to go a refusal he could now -comprehend. Presently, by a change in the atmosphere, he -knew that they were entering a cave after going on for a -few seconds more he heard a crackling, and it seemed to him -as though the atmosphere again changed, and became balmy and -perfumed. At length his feet touched on a thick and soft -carpet, and his guides let go their hold of him. There was a -moment's silence, and then a voice, in excellent French, -although, with a foreign accent, said, "Welcome, sir. I beg -you will remove your bandage." It may be supposed, then, -Franz did not wait for a repetition of this permission, but -took off the handkerchief, and found himself in the presence -of a man from thirtyeight to forty years of age, dressed in -a Tunisian costume that is to say, a red cap with a long -blue silk tassel, a vest of black cloth embroidered with -gold, pantaloons of deep red, large and full gaiters of the -same color, embroidered with gold like the vest, and yellow -slippers he had a splendid cashmere round his waist, and a -small sharp and crooked cangiar was passed through his -girdle. Although of a paleness that was almost livid, this -man had a remarkably handsome face his eyes were -penetrating and sparkling his nose, quite straight, and -projecting direct from the brow, was of the pure Greek type, -while his teeth, as white as pearls, were set off to -admiration by the black mustache that encircled them. -His pallor was so peculiar, that it seemed to pertain to one -who had been long entombed, and who was incapable of -resuming the healthy glow and hue of life. He was not -particularly tall, but extremely well made, and, like the -men of the south, had small hands and feet. But what -astonished Franz, who had treated Gaetano's description as a -fable, was the splendor of the apartment in which he found -himself. The entire chamber was lined with crimson brocade, -worked with flowers of gold. In a recess was a kind of -divan, surmounted with a stand of Arabian swords in silver -scabbards, and the handles resplendent with gems from the -ceiling hung a lamp of Venetian glass, of beautiful shape -and color, while the feet rested on a Turkey carpet, in -which they sunk to the instep tapestry hung before the door -by which Franz had entered, and also in front of another -door, leading into a second apartment which seemed to be -brilliantly illuminated. The host gave Franz time to recover -from his surprise, and, moreover, returned look for look, -not even taking his eyes off him. "Sir," he said, after a -pause, "a thousand excuses for the precaution taken in your -introduction hither but as, during the greater portion of -the year, this island is deserted, if the secret of this -abode were discovered. I should doubtless, find on my return -my temporary retirement in a state of great disorder, which -would be exceedingly annoying, not for the loss it -occasioned me, but because I should not have the certainty I -now possess of separating myself from all the rest of -mankind at pleasure. Let me now endeavor to make you forget -this temporary unpleasantness, and offer you what no doubt -you did not expect to find here that is to say, a -tolerable supper and pretty comfortable beds." -"Ma foi, my dear sir," replied Franz, "make no apologies. I -have always observed that they bandage people's eyes who -penetrate enchanted palaces, for instance, those of Raoul in -the "Huguenots,' and really I have nothing to complain of, -for what I see makes me think of the wonders of the "Arabian -Nights.'" -"Alas, I may say with Lucullus, if I could have anticipated -the honor of your visit, I would have prepared for it. But -such as is my hermitage, it is at your disposal such as is -my supper, it is yours to share, if you will. Ali, is the -supper ready?" At this moment the tapestry moved aside, and -a Nubian, black as ebony, and dressed in a plain white -tunic, made a sign to his master that all was prepared in -the diningroom. "Now," said the unknown to Franz, "I do not -know if you are of my opinion, but I think nothing is more -annoying than to remain two or three hours together without -knowing by name or appellation how to address one another. -Pray observe, that I too much respect the laws of -hospitality to ask your name or title. I only request you to -give me one by which I may have the pleasure of addressing -you. As for myself, that I may put you at your ease, I tell -you that I am generally called "Sinbad the Sailor.'" -"And I," replied Franz, "will tell you, as I only require -his wonderful lamp to make me precisely like Aladdin, that I -see no reason why at this moment I should not be called -Aladdin. That will keep us from going away from the East -whither I am tempted to think I have been conveyed by some -good genius." -"Well, then, Signor Aladdin," replied the singular -amphitryon, "you heard our repast announced, will you now -take the trouble to enter the diningroom, your humble -servant going first to show the way?" At these words, moving -aside the tapestry, Sinbad preceded his guest. Franz now -looked upon another scene of enchantment the table was -splendidly covered, and once convinced of this important -point he cast his eyes around him. The diningroom was -scarcely less striking than the room he had just left it -was entirely of marble, with antique basreliefs of -priceless value and at the four corners of this apartment, -which was oblong, were four magnificent statues, having -baskets in their hands. These baskets contained four -pyramids of most splendid fruit there were Sicily -pineapples, pomegranates from Malaga, oranges from the -Balearic Isles, peaches from France, and dates from Tunis. -The supper consisted of a roast pheasant garnished with -Corsican blackbirds a boar's ham with jelly, a quarter of a -kid with tartar sauce, a glorious turbot, and a gigantic -lobster. Between these large dishes were smaller ones -containing various dainties. The dishes were of silver, and -the plates of Japanese china. -Franz rubbed his eyes in order to assure himself that this -was not a dream. Ali alone was present to wait at table, and -acquitted himself so admirably, that the guest complimented -his host thereupon. "Yes," replied he, while he did the -honors of the supper with much ease and grace "yes, he is -a poor devil who is much devoted to me, and does all he can -to prove it. He remembers that I saved his life, and as he -has a regard for his head, he feels some gratitude towards -me for having kept it on his shoulders." Ali approached his -master, took his hand, and kissed it. -"Would it be impertinent, Signor Sinbad," said Franz, "to -ask you the particulars of this kindness?" -"Oh, they are simple enough," replied the host. "It seems -the fellow had been caught wandering nearer to the harem of -the Bey of Tunis than etiquette permits to one of his color, -and he was condemned by the bey to have his tongue cut out, -and his hand and head cut off the tongue the first day, the -hand the second, and the head the third. I always had a -desire to have a mute in my service, so learning the day his -tongue was cut out, I went to the bey, and proposed to give -him for Ali a splendid doublebarreled gun which I knew he -was very desirous of having. He hesitated a moment, he was -so very desirous to complete the poor devil's punishment. -But when I added to the gun an English cutlass with which I -had shivered his highness's yataghan to pieces, the bey -yielded, and agreed to forgive the hand and head, but on -condition that the poor fellow never again set foot in -Tunis. This was a useless clause in the bargain, for -whenever the coward sees the first glimpse of the shores of -Africa, he runs down below, and can only be induced to -appear again when we are out of sight of that quarter of the -globe." -Franz remained a moment silent and pensive, hardly knowing -what to think of the halfkindness, halfcruelty, with which -his host related the brief narrative. "And like the -celebrated sailor whose name you have assumed," he said, by -way of changing the conversation, "you pass your life in -travelling?" -"Yes. I made a vow at a time when I little thought I should -ever be able to accomplish it," said the unknown with a -singular smile "and I made some others also which I hope I -may fulfil in due season." Although Sinbad pronounced these -words with much calmness, his eyes gave forth gleams of -extraordinary ferocity. -"You have suffered a great deal, sir?" said Franz -inquiringly. -Sinbad started and looked fixedly at him, as he replied, -"What makes you suppose so?" -"Everything," answered Franz, "your voice, your look, -your pallid complexion, and even the life you lead." -"I? I live the happiest life possible, the real life of a -pasha. I am king of all creation. I am pleased with one -place, and stay there I get tired of it, and leave it I am -free as a bird and have wings like one my attendants obey -my slightest wish. Sometimes I amuse myself by delivering -some bandit or criminal from the bonds of the law. Then I -have my mode of dispensing justice, silent and sure, without -respite or appeal, which condemns or pardons, and which no -one sees. Ah, if you had tasted my life, you would not -desire any other, and would never return to the world unless -you had some great project to accomplish there." -"Revenge, for instance" observed Franz. -The unknown fixed on the young man one of those looks which -penetrate into the depth of the heart and thoughts. "And why -revenge?" he asked. -"Because," replied Franz, "you seem to me like a man who, -persecuted by society, has a fearful account to settle with -it." -"Ah," responded Sinbad, laughing with his singular laugh -which displayed his white and sharp teeth. "You have not -guessed rightly. Such as you see me I am, a sort of -philosopher, and one day perhaps I shall go to Paris to -rival Monsieur Appert, and the little man in the blue -cloak." -"And will that be the first time you ever took that -journey?" -"Yes it will. I must seem to you by no means curious, but I -assure you that it is not my fault I have delayed it so long -it will happen one day or the other." -"And do you propose to make this journey very shortly?" -"I do not know it depends on circumstances which depend on -certain arrangements." -"I should like to be there at the time you come, and I will -endeavor to repay you, as far as lies in my power, for your -liberal hospitality displayed to me at Monte Cristo." -"I should avail myself of your offer with pleasure," replied -the host, "but, unfortunately, if I go there, it will be, in -all probability, incognito." -The supper appeared to have been supplied solely for Franz, -for the unknown scarcely touched one or two dishes of the -splendid banquet to which his guest did ample justice. Then -Ali brought on the dessert, or rather took the baskets from -the hands of the statues and placed them on the table. -Between the two baskets he placed a small silver cup with a -silver cover. The care with which Ali placed this cup on the -table roused Franz's curiosity. He raised the cover and saw -a kind of greenish paste, something like preserved angelica, -but which was perfectly unknown to him. He replaced the lid, -as ignorant of what the cup contained as he was before he -had looked at it, and then casting his eyes towards his host -he saw him smile at his disappointment. "You cannot guess," -said he, "what there is in that small vase, can you?" -"No, I really cannot." -"Well, then, that green preserve is nothing less than the -ambrosia which Hebe served at the table of Jupiter." -"But," replied Franz, "this ambrosia, no doubt, in passing -through mortal hands has lost its heavenly appellation and -assumed a human name in vulgar phrase, what may you term -this composition, for which, to tell the truth, I do not -feel any particular desire?" -"Ah, thus it is that our material origin is revealed," cried -Sinbad "we frequently pass so near to happiness without -seeing, without regarding it, or if we do see and regard it, -yet without recognizing it. Are you a man for the -substantials, and is gold your god? taste this, and the -mines of Peru, Guzerat, and Golconda are opened to you. Are -you a man of imagination a poet? taste this, and the -boundaries of possibility disappear the fields of infinite -space open to you, you advance free in heart, free in mind, -into the boundless realms of unfettered revery. Are you -ambitious, and do you seek after the greatnesses of the -earth? taste this, and in an hour you will be a king, not a -king of a petty kingdom hidden in some corner of Europe like -France, Spain, or England, but king of the world, king of -the universe, king of creation without bowing at the feet -of Satan, you will be king and master of all the kingdoms of -the earth. Is it not tempting what I offer you, and is it -not an easy thing, since it is only to do thus? look" At -these words he uncovered the small cup which contained the -substance so lauded, took a teaspoonful of the magic -sweetmeat, raised it to his lips, and swallowed it slowly -with his eyes half shut and his head bent backwards. Franz -did not disturb him whilst he absorbed his favorite -sweetmeat, but when he had finished, he inquired, "What, -then, is this precious stuff?" -"Did you ever hear," he replied, "of the Old Man of the -Mountain, who attempted to assassinate Philip Augustus?" -"Of course I have." -"Well, you know he reigned over a rich valley which was -overhung by the mountain whence he derived his picturesque -name. In this valley were magnificent gardens planted by -HassenbenSabah, and in these gardens isolated pavilions. -Into these pavilions he admitted the elect, and there, says -Marco Polo, gave them to eat a certain herb, which -transported them to Paradise, in the midst of everblooming -shrubs, everripe fruit, and everlovely virgins. What these -happy persons took for reality was but a dream but it was a -dream so soft, so voluptuous, so enthralling, that they sold -themselves body and soul to him who gave it to them, and -obedient to his orders as to those of a deity, struck down -the designated victim, died in torture without a murmur, -believing that the death they underwent was but a quick -transition to that life of delights of which the holy herb, -now before you had given them a slight foretaste." -"Then," cried Franz, "it is hashish I know that by name -at least." -"That is it precisely, Signor Aladdin it is hashish the -purest and most unadulterated hashish of Alexandria, the -hashish of AbouGor, the celebrated maker, the only man, the -man to whom there should be built a palace, inscribed with -these words, "A grateful world to the dealer in happiness.'" -"Do you know," said Franz, "I have a very great inclination -to judge for myself of the truth or exaggeration of your -eulogies." -"Judge for yourself, Signor Aladdin judge, but do not -confine yourself to one trial. Like everything else, we must -habituate the senses to a fresh impression, gentle or -violent, sad or joyous. There is a struggle in nature -against this divine substance, in nature which is not -made for joy and clings to pain. Nature subdued must yield -in the combat, the dream must succeed to reality, and then -the dream reigns supreme, then the dream becomes life, and -life becomes the dream. But what changes occur It is only -by comparing the pains of actual being with the joys of the -assumed existence, that you would desire to live no longer, -but to dream thus forever. When you return to this mundane -sphere from your visionary world, you would seem to leave a -Neapolitan spring for a Lapland winter to quit paradise -for earth heaven for hell Taste the hashish, guest of -mine taste the hashish." -Franz's only reply was to take a teaspoonful of the -marvellous preparation, about as much in quantity as his -host had eaten, and lift it to his mouth. "Diable" he said, -after having swallowed the divine preserve. "I do not know -if the result will be as agreeable as you describe, but the -thing does not appear to me as palatable as you say." -"Because your palate his not yet been attuned to the -sublimity of the substances it flavors. Tell me, the first -time you tasted oysters, tea, porter, truffles, and sundry -other dainties which you now adore, did you like them? Could -you comprehend how the Romans stuffed their pheasants with -assafoetida, and the Chinese eat swallows' nests? Eh? no -Well, it is the same with hashish only eat for a week, and -nothing in the world will seem to you to equal the delicacy -of its flavor, which now appears to you flat and -distasteful. Let us now go into the adjoining chamber, which -is your apartment, and Ali will bring us coffee and pipes." -They both arose, and while he who called himself Sinbad -and whom we have occasionally named so, that we might, like -his guest, have some title by which to distinguish him -gave some orders to the servant, Franz entered still another -apartment. It was simply yet richly furnished. It was round, -and a large divan completely encircled it. Divan, walls, -ceiling, floor, were all covered with magnificent skins as -soft and downy as the richest carpets there were -heavymaned lionskins from Atlas, striped tigerskins from -Bengal pantherskins from the Cape, spotted beautifully, -like those that appeared to Dante bearskins from Siberia, -foxskins from Norway, and so on and all these skins were -strewn in profusion one on the other, so that it seemed like -walking over the most mossy turf, or reclining on the most -luxurious bed. Both laid themselves down on the divan -chibouques with jasmine tubes and amber mouthpieces were -within reach, and all prepared so that there was no need to -smoke the same pipe twice. Each of them took one, which Ali -lighted and then retired to prepare the coffee. There was a -moment's silence, during which Sinbad gave himself up to -thoughts that seemed to occupy him incessantly, even in the -midst of his conversation and Franz abandoned himself to -that mute revery, into which we always sink when smoking -excellent tobacco, which seems to remove with its fume all -the troubles of the mind, and to give the smoker in exchange -all the visions of the soul. Ali brought in the coffee. "How -do you take it?" inquired the unknown "in the French or -Turkish style, strong or weak, sugar or none, cool or -boiling? As you please it is ready in all ways." -"I will take it in the Turkish style," replied Franz. -"And you are right," said his host "it shows you have a -tendency for an Oriental life. Ah, those Orientals they are -the only men who know how to live. As for me," he added, -with one of those singular smiles which did not escape the -young man, "when I have completed my affairs in Paris, I -shall go and die in the East and should you wish to see me -again, you must seek me at Cairo, Bagdad, or Ispahan." -"Ma foi," said Franz, "it would be the easiest thing in the -world for I feel eagle's wings springing out at my -shoulders, and with those wings I could make a tour of the -world in four and twenty hours." -"Ah, yes, the hashish is beginning its work. Well, unfurl -your wings, and fly into superhuman regions fear nothing, -there is a watch over you and if your wings, like those of -Icarus, melt before the sun, we are here to ease your fall." -He then said something in Arabic to Ali, who made a sign of -obedience and withdrew, but not to any distance. As to Franz -a strange transformation had taken place in him. All the -bodily fatigue of the day, all the preoccupation of mind -which the events of the evening had brought on, disappeared -as they do at the first approach of sleep, when we are still -sufficiently conscious to be aware of the coming of slumber. -His body seemed to acquire an airy lightness, his perception -brightened in a remarkable manner, his senses seemed to -redouble their power, the horizon continued to expand but -it was not the gloomy horizon of vague alarms, and which he -had seen before he slept, but a blue, transparent, unbounded -horizon, with all the blue of the ocean, all the spangles of -the sun, all the perfumes of the summer breeze then, in the -midst of the songs of his sailors, songs so clear and -sonorous, that they would have made a divine harmony had -their notes been taken down, he saw the Island of Monte -Cristo, no longer as a threatening rock in the midst of the -waves, but as an oasis in the desert then, as his boat drew -nearer, the songs became louder, for an enchanting and -mysterious harmony rose to heaven, as if some Loreley had -decreed to attract a soul thither, or Amphion, the -enchanter, intended there to build a city. -At length the boat touched the shore, but without effort, -without shock, as lips touch lips and he entered the grotto -amidst continued strains of most delicious melody. He -descended, or rather seemed to descend, several steps, -inhaling the fresh and balmy air, like that which may be -supposed to reign around the grotto of Circe, formed from -such perfumes as set the mind a dreaming, and such fires as -burn the very senses and he saw again all he had seen -before his sleep, from Sinbad, his singular host, to Ali, -the mute attendant then all seemed to fade away and become -confused before his eyes, like the last shadows of the magic -lantern before it is extinguished, and he was again in the -chamber of statues, lighted only by one of those pale and -antique lamps which watch in the dead of the night over the -sleep of pleasure. They were the same statues, rich in form, -in attraction, and poesy, with eyes of fascination, smiles -of love, and bright and flowing hair. They were Phryne, -Cleopatra, Messalina, those three celebrated courtesans. -Then among them glided like a pure ray, like a Christian -angel in the midst of Olympus, one of those chaste figures, -those calm shadows, those soft visions, which seemed to veil -its virgin brow before these marble wantons. Then the three -statues advanced towards him with looks of love, and -approached the couch on which he was reposing, their feet -hidden in their long white tunics, their throats bare, hair -flowing like waves, and assuming attitudes which the gods -could not resist, but which saints withstood, and looks -inflexible and ardent like those with which the serpent -charms the bird and then he gave way before looks that held -him in a torturing grasp and delighted his senses as with a -voluptuous kiss. It seemed to Franz that he closed his eyes, -and in a last look about him saw the vision of modesty -completely veiled and then followed a dream of passion like -that promised by the Prophet to the elect. Lips of stone -turned to flame, breasts of ice became like heated lava, so -that to Franz, yielding for the first time to the sway of -the drug, love was a sorrow and voluptuousness a torture, as -burning mouths were pressed to his thirsty lips, and he was -held in cool serpentlike embraces. The more he strove -against this unhallowed passion the more his senses yielded -to its thrall, and at length, weary of a struggle that taxed -his very soul, he gave way and sank back breathless and -exhausted beneath the kisses of these marble goddesses, and -the enchantment of his marvellous dream. -Chapter -The Waking. -When Franz returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a -dream. He thought himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray -of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. He stretched forth -his hand, and touched stone he rose to his seat, and found -himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather, very -soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled and as if the -statues had been but shadows from the tomb, they had -vanished at his waking. He advanced several paces towards -the point whence the light came, and to all the excitement -of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He found -that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and -through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. -The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning -sun on the shore the sailors were sitting, chatting and -laughing and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor, -undulating gracefully on the water. There for some time he -enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow, and -listened to the dash of the waves on the beach, that left -against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. He was -for some time without reflection or thought for the divine -charm which is in the things of nature, specially after a -fantastic dream then gradually this view of the outer -world, so calm, so pure, so grand, reminded him of the -illusiveness of his vision, and once more awakened memory. -He recalled his arrival on the island, his presentation to a -smuggler chief, a subterranean palace full of splendor, an -excellent supper, and a spoonful of hashish. It seemed, -however, even in the very face of open day, that at least a -year had elapsed since all these things had passed, so deep -was the impression made in his mind by the dream, and so -strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. Thus every -now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors, seated on a -rock, or undulating in the vessel, one of the shadows which -had shared his dream with looks and kisses. Otherwise, his -head was perfectly clear, and his body refreshed he was -free from the slightest headache on the contrary, he felt a -certain degree of lightness, a faculty for absorbing the -pure air, and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than -ever. -He went gayly up to the sailors, who rose as soon as they -perceived him and the patron, accosting him, said, "The -Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency, -and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being -able to take his leave in person but he trusts you will -excuse him, as very important business calls him to Malaga." -"So, then, Gaetano," said Franz, "this is, then, all -reality there exists a man who has received me in this -island, entertained me right royally, and his departed while -I was asleep?" -"He exists as certainly as that you may see his small yacht -with all her sails spread and if you will use your glass, -you will, in all probability, recognize your host in the -midst of his crew." So saying, Gaetano pointed in a -direction in which a small vessel was making sail towards -the southern point of Corsica. Franz adjusted his telescope, -and directed it towards the yacht. Gaetano was not mistaken. -At the stern the mysterious stranger was standing up looking -towards the shore, and holding a spyglass in his hand. He -was attired as he had been on the previous evening, and -waved his pockethandkerchief to his guest in token of -adieu. Franz returned the salute by shaking his handkerchief -as an exchange of signals. After a second, a slight cloud of -smoke was seen at the stern of the vessel, which rose -gracefully as it expanded in the air, and then Franz heard a -slight report. "There, do you hear?" observed Gaetano "he -is bidding you adieu." The young man took his carbine and -fired it in the air, but without any idea that the noise -could be heard at the distance which separated the yacht -from the shore. -"What are your excellency's orders?" inquired Gaetano. -"In the first place, light me a torch." -"Ah, yes, I understand," replied the patron, "to find the -entrance to the enchanted apartment. With much pleasure, -your excellency, if it would amuse you and I will get you -the torch you ask for. But I too have had the idea you have, -and two or three times the same fancy has come over me but -I have always given it up. Giovanni, light a torch," he -added, "and give it to his excellency." -Giovanni obeyed. Franz took the lamp, and entered the -subterranean grotto, followed by Gaetano. He recognized the -place where he had awaked by the bed of heather that was -there but it was in vain that he carried his torch all -round the exterior surface of the grotto. He saw nothing, -unless that, by traces of smoke, others had before him -attempted the same thing, and, like him, in vain. Yet he did -not leave a foot of this granite wall, as impenetrable as -futurity, without strict scrutiny he did not see a fissure -without introducing the blade of his hunting sword into it, -or a projecting point on which he did not lean and press in -the hopes it would give way. All was vain and he lost two -hours in his attempts, which were at last utterly useless. -At the end of this time he gave up his search, and Gaetano -smiled. -When Franz appeared again on the shore, the yacht only -seemed like a small white speck on the horizon. He looked -again through his glass, but even then he could not -distinguish anything. Gaetano reminded him that he had come -for the purpose of shooting goats, which he had utterly -forgotten. He took his fowlingpiece, and began to hunt over -the island with the air of a man who is fulfilling a duty, -rather than enjoying a pleasure and at the end of a quarter -of an hour he had killed a goat and two kids. These animals, -though wild and agile as chamois, were too much like -domestic goats, and Franz could not consider them as game. -Moreover, other ideas, much more enthralling, occupied his -mind. Since, the evening before, he had really been the hero -of one of the tales of the "Thousand and One Nights," and he -was irresistibly attracted towards the grotto. Then, in -spite of the failure of his first search, he began a second, -after having told Gaetano to roast one of the two kids. The -second visit was a long one, and when he returned the kid -was roasted and the repast ready. Franz was sitting on the -spot where he was on the previous evening when his -mysterious host had invited him to supper and he saw the -little yacht, now like a seagull on the wave, continuing -her flight towards Corsica. "Why," he remarked to Gaetano, -"you told me that Signor Sinbad was going to Malaga, while -it seems he is in the direction of PortoVecchio." -"Don't you remember," said the patron, "I told you that -among the crew there were two Corsican brigands?" -"True and he is going to land them," added Franz. -"Precisely so," replied Gaetano. "Ah, he is one who fears -neither God nor Satan, they say, and would at any time run -fifty leagues out of his course to do a poor devil a -service." -"But such services as these might involve him with the -authorities of the country in which he practices this kind -of philanthropy," said Franz. -"And what cares he for that," replied Gaetano with a laugh, -"or any authorities? He smiles at them. Let them try to -pursue him Why, in the first place, his yacht is not a -ship, but a bird, and he would beat any frigate three knots -in every nine and if he were to throw himself on the coast, -why, is he not certain of finding friends everywhere?" -It was perfectly clear that the Signor Sinbad, Franz's host, -had the honor of being on excellent terms with the smugglers -and bandits along the whole coast of the Mediterranean, and -so enjoyed exceptional privileges. As to Franz, he had no -longer any inducement to remain at Monte Cristo. He had lost -all hope of detecting the secret of the grotto he -consequently despatched his breakfast, and, his boat being -ready, he hastened on board, and they were soon under way. -At the moment the boat began her course they lost sight of -the yacht, as it disappeared in the gulf of PortoVecchio. -With it was effaced the last trace of the preceding night -and then supper, Sinbad, hashish, statues, all became a -dream for Franz. The boat sailed on all day and all night, -and next morning, when the sun rose, they had lost sight of -Monte Cristo. When Franz had once again set foot on shore, -he forgot, for the moment at least, the events which had -just passed, while he finished his affairs of pleasure at -Florence, and then thought of nothing but how he should -rejoin his companion, who was awaiting him at Rome. -He set out, and on the Saturday evening reached the Eternal -City by the mailcoach. An apartment, as we have said, had -been retained beforehand, and thus he had but to go to -Signor Pastrini's hotel. But this was not so easy a matter, -for the streets were thronged with people, and Rome was -already a prey to that low and feverish murmur which -precedes all great events and at Rome there are four great -events in every year, the Carnival, Holy Week, Corpus -Christi, and the Feast of St. Peter. All the rest of the -year the city is in that state of dull apathy, between life -and death, which renders it similar to a kind of station -between this world and the next a sublime spot, a -restingplace full of poetry and character, and at which -Franz had already halted five or six times, and at each time -found it more marvellous and striking. At last he made his -way through the mob, which was continually increasing and -getting more and more turbulent, and reached the hotel. On -his first inquiry he was told, with the impertinence -peculiar to hired hackneycoachmen and innkeepers with -their houses full, that there was no room for him at the -Hotel de Londres. Then he sent his card to Signor Pastrini, -and asked for Albert de Morcerf. This plan succeeded and -Signor Pastrini himself ran to him, excusing himself for -having made his excellency wait, scolding the waiters, -taking the candlestick from the porter, who was ready to -pounce on the traveller and was about to lead him to Albert, -when Morcerf himself appeared. -The apartment consisted of two small rooms and a parlor. The -two rooms looked onto the street a fact which Signor -Pastrini commented upon as an inappreciable advantage. The -rest of the floor was hired by a very rich gentleman who was -supposed to be a Sicilian or Maltese but the host was -unable to decide to which of the two nations the traveller -belonged. "Very good, signor Pastrini," said Franz "but we -must have some supper instantly, and a carriage for tomorrow -and the following days." -"As to supper," replied the landlord, "you shall be served -immediately but as for the carriage" -"What as to the carriage?" exclaimed Albert. "Come, come, -Signor Pastrini, no joking we must have a carriage." -"Sir," replied the host, "we will do all in our power to -procure you one this is all I can say." -"And when shall we know?" inquired Franz. -"Tomorrow morning," answered the innkeeper. -"Oh, the deuce then we shall pay the more, that's all, I -see plainly enough. At Drake's or Aaron's one pays -twentyfive lire for common days, and thirty or thirtyfive -lire a day more for Sundays and feast days add five lire a -day more for extras, that will make forty, and there's an -end of it." -"I am afraid if we offer them double that we shall not -procure a carriage." -"Then they must put horses to mine. It is a little worse for -the journey, but that's no matter." -"There are no horses." Albert looked at Franz like a man who -hears a reply he does not understand. -"Do you understand that, my dear Franz no horses?" he -said, "but can't we have posthorses?" -"They have been all hired this fortnight, and there are none -left but those absolutely requisite for posting." -"What are we to say to this?" asked Franz. -"I say, that when a thing completely surpasses my -comprehension, I am accustomed not to dwell on that thing, -but to pass to another. Is supper ready, Signor Pastrini?" -"Yes, your excellency." -"Well, then, let us sup." -"But the carriage and horses?" said Franz. -"Be easy, my dear boy they will come in due season it is -only a question of how much shall be charged for them." -Morcerf then, with that delighted philosophy which believes -that nothing is impossible to a full purse or welllined -pocketbook, supped, went to bed, slept soundly, and dreamed -he was racing all over Rome at Carnival time in a coach with -six horses. -Chapter -Roman Bandits. -The next morning Franz woke first, and instantly rang the -bell. The sound had not yet died away when Signor Pastrini -himself entered. -"Well, excellency," said the landlord triumphantly, and -without waiting for Franz to question him, "I feared -yesterday, when I would not promise you anything, that you -were too late there is not a single carriage to be had -that is, for the last three days of the carnival." -"Yes," returned Franz, "for the very three days it is most -needed." -"What is the matter?" said Albert, entering "no carriage to -be had?" -"Just so," returned Franz, "you have guessed it." -"Well, your Eternal City is a nice sort of place." -"That is to say, excellency," replied Pastrini, who was -desirous of keeping up the dignity of the capital of the -Christian world in the eyes of his guest, "that there are no -carriages to be had from Sunday to Tuesday evening, but from -now till Sunday you can have fifty if you please." -"Ah, that is something," said Albert "today is Thursday, -and who knows what may arrive between this and Sunday?" -"Ten or twelve thousand travellers will arrive," replied -Franz, "which will make it still more difficult." -"My friend," said Morcerf, "let us enjoy the present without -gloomy forebodings for the future." -"At least we can have a window?" -"Where?" -"In the Corso." -"Ah, a window" exclaimed Signor Pastrini, "utterly -impossible there was only one left on the fifth floor of -the Doria Palace, and that has been let to a Russian prince -for twenty sequins a day." -The two young men looked at each other with an air of -stupefaction. -"Well," said Franz to Albert, "do you know what is the best -thing we can do? It is to pass the Carnival at Venice there -we are sure of obtaining gondolas if we cannot have -carriages." -"Ah, the devil, no," cried Albert "I came to Rome to see -the Carnival, and I will, though I see it on stilts." -"Bravo an excellent idea. We will disguise ourselves as -monster pulchinellos or shepherds of the Landes, and we -shall have complete success." -"Do your excellencies still wish for a carriage from now to -Sunday morning?" -"Parbleu" said Albert, "do you think we are going to run -about on foot in the streets of Rome, like lawyer's clerks?" -"I hasten to comply with your excellencies' wishes only, I -tell you beforehand, the carriage will cost you six piastres -a day." -"And, as I am not a millionaire, like the gentleman in the -next apartments," said Franz, "I warn you, that as I have -been four times before at Rome, I know the prices of all the -carriages we will give you twelve piastres for today, -tomorrow, and the day after, and then you will make a good -profit." -"But, excellency" said Pastrini, still striving to gain -his point. -"Now go," returned Franz, "or I shall go myself and bargain -with your affettatore, who is mine also he is an old friend -of mine, who has plundered me pretty well already, and, in -the hope of making more out of me, he will take a less price -than the one I offer you you will lose the preference, and -that will be your fault." -"Do not give yourselves the trouble, excellency," returned -Signor Pastrini, with the smile peculiar to the Italian -speculator when he confesses defeat "I will do all I can, -and I hope you will be satisfied." -"And now we understand each other." -"When do you wish the carriage to be here?" -"In an hour." -"In an hour it will be at the door." -An hour after the vehicle was at the door it was a hack -conveyance which was elevated to the rank of a private -carriage in honor of the occasion, but, in spite of its -humble exterior, the young men would have thought themselves -happy to have secured it for the last three days of the -Carnival. "Excellency," cried the cicerone, seeing Franz -approach the window, "shall I bring the carriage nearer to -the palace?" -Accustomed as Franz was to the Italian phraseology, his -first impulse was to look round him, but these words were -addressed to him. Franz was the "excellency," the vehicle -was the "carriage," and the Hotel de Londres was the -"palace." The genius for laudation characteristic of the -race was in that phrase. -Franz and Albert descended, the carriage approached the -palace their excellencies stretched their legs along the -seats the cicerone sprang into the seat behind. "Where do -your excellencies wish to go?" asked he. -"To Saint Peter's first, and then to the Colosseum," -returned Albert. But Albert did not know that it takes a day -to see Saint Peter's, and a month to study it. The day was -passed at Saint Peter's alone. Suddenly the daylight began -to fade away Franz took out his watch it was halfpast -four. They returned to the hotel at the door Franz ordered -the coachman to be ready at eight. He wished to show Albert -the Colosseum by moonlight, as he had shown him Saint -Peter's by daylight. When we show a friend a city one has -already visited, we feel the same pride as when we point out -a woman whose lover we have been. He was to leave the city -by the Porta del Popolo, skirt the outer wall, and reenter -by the Porta San Giovanni thus they would behold the -Colosseum without finding their impressions dulled by first -looking on the Capitol, the Forum, the Arch of Septimus -Severus, the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, and the Via -Sacra. They sat down to dinner. Signor Pastrini had promised -them a banquet he gave them a tolerable repast. At the end -of the dinner he entered in person. Franz thought that he -came to hear his dinner praised, and began accordingly, but -at the first words he was interrupted. "Excellency," said -Pastrini, "I am delighted to have your approbation, but it -was not for that I came." -"Did you come to tell us you have procured a carriage?" -asked Albert, lighting his cigar. -"No and your excellencies will do well not to think of that -any longer at Rome things can or cannot be done when you -are told anything cannot he done, there is an end of it." -"It is much more convenient at Paris, when anything -cannot be done, you pay double, and it is done directly." -"That is what all the French say," returned Signor Pastrini, -somewhat piqued "for that reason, I do not understand why -they travel." -"But," said Albert, emitting a volume of smoke and balancing -his chair on its hind legs, "only madmen, or blockheads like -us, ever do travel. Men in their senses do not quit their -hotel in the Rue du Helder, their walk on the Boulevard de -Gand, and the Cafe de Paris." It is of course understood -that Albert resided in the aforesaid street, appeared every -day on the fashionable walk, and dined frequently at the -only restaurant where you can really dine, that is, if you -are on good terms with its frequenters. Signor Pastrini -remained silent a short time it was evident that he was -musing over this answer, which did not seem very clear. -"But," said Franz, in his turn interrupting his host's -meditations, "you had some motive for coming here, may I beg -to know what it was?" -"Ah, yes you have ordered your carriage at eight o'clock -precisely?" -"I have." -"You intend visiting Il Colosseo." -"You mean the Colosseum?" -"It is the same thing. You have told your coachman to leave -the city by the Porta del Popolo, to drive round the walls, -and reenter by the Porta San Giovanni?" -"These are my words exactly." -"Well, this route is impossible." -"Impossible" -"Very dangerous, to say the least." -"Dangerous and why?" -"On account of the famous Luigi Vampa." -"Pray, who may this famous Luigi Vampa be?" inquired Albert -"he may be very famous at Rome, but I can assure you he is -quite unknown at Paris." -"What do you not know him?" -"I have not that honor." -"You have never heard his name?" -"Never." -"Well, then, he is a bandit, compared to whom the Decesaris -and the Gasparones were mere children." -"Now then, Albert," cried Franz, "here is a bandit for you -at last." -"I forewarn you, Signor Pastrini, that I shall not believe -one word of what you are going to tell us having told you -this, begin." -"Once upon a time" -"Well, go on." Signor Pastrini turned toward Franz, who -seemed to him the more reasonable of the two we must do him -justice, he had had a great many Frenchmen in his house, -but had never been able to comprehend them. "Excellency," -said he gravely, addressing Franz, "if you look upon me as a -liar, it is useless for me to say anything it was for your -interest I" -"Albert does not say you are a liar, Signor Pastrini," said -Franz, "but that he will not believe what you are going to -tell us, but I will believe all you say so proceed." -"But if your excellency doubt my veracity" -"Signor Pastrini," returned Franz, "you are more susceptible -than Cassandra, who was a prophetess, and yet no one -believed her while you, at least, are sure of the credence -of half your audience. Come, sit down, and tell us all about -this Signor Vampa." -"I had told your excellency he is the most famous bandit we -have had since the days of Mastrilla." -"Well, what has this bandit to do with the order I have -given the coachman to leave the city by the Porta del -Popolo, and to reenter by the Porta San Giovanni?" -"This," replied Signor Pastrini, "that you will go out by -one, but I very much doubt your returning by the other." -"Why?" asked Franz. -"Because, after nightfall, you are not safe fifty yards from -the gates." -"On your honor is that true?" cried Albert. -"Count," returned Signor Pastrini, hurt at Albert's repeated -doubts of the truth of his assertions, "I do not say this to -you, but to your companion, who knows Rome, and knows, too, -that these things are not to be laughed at." -"My dear fellow," said Albert, turning to Franz, "here is an -admirable adventure we will fill our carriage with pistols, -blunderbusses, and doublebarrelled guns. Luigi Vampa comes -to take us, and we take him we bring him back to Rome, -and present him to his holiness the Pope, who asks how he -can repay so great a service then we merely ask for a -carriage and a pair of horses, and we see the Carnival in -the carriage, and doubtless the Roman people will crown us -at the Capitol, and proclaim us, like Curtius and the veiled -Horatius, the preservers of their country." Whilst Albert -proposed this scheme, Signor Pastrini's face assumed an -expression impossible to describe. -"And pray," asked Franz, "where are these pistols, -blunderbusses, and other deadly weapons with which you -intend filling the carriage?" -"Not out of my armory, for at Terracina I was plundered even -of my huntingknife." -"I shared the same fate at Aquapendente." -"Do you know, Signor Pastrini," said Albert, lighting a -second cigar at the first, "that this practice is very -convenient for bandits, and that it seems to be due to an -arrangement of their own." Doubtless Signor Pastrini found -this pleasantry compromising, for he only answered half the -question, and then he spoke to Franz, as the only one likely -to listen with attention. "Your excellency knows that it is -not customary to defend yourself when attacked by bandits." -"What" cried Albert, whose courage revolted at the idea of -being plundered tamely, "not make any resistance" -"No, for it would be useless. What could you do against a -dozen bandits who spring out of some pit, ruin, or aqueduct, -and level their pieces at you?" -"Eh, parbleu they should kill me." -The innkeeper turned to Franz with an air that seemed to -say, "Your friend is decidedly mad." -"My dear Albert," returned Franz, "your answer is sublime, -and worthy the "Let him die,' of Corneille, only, when -Horace made that answer, the safety of Rome was concerned -but, as for us, it is only to gratify a whim, and it would -be ridiculous to risk our lives for so foolish a motive." -Albert poured himself out a glass of lacryma Christi, which -he sipped at intervals, muttering some unintelligible words. -"Well, Signor Pastrini," said Franz, "now that my companion -is quieted, and you have seen how peaceful my intentions -are, tell me who is this Luigi Vampa. Is he a shepherd or a -nobleman? young or old? tall or short? Describe him, -in order that, if we meet him by chance, like Bugaboo John -or Lara, we may recognize him." -"You could not apply to any one better able to inform you on -all these points, for I knew him when he was a child, and -one day that I fell into his hands, going from Ferentino to -Alatri, he, fortunately for me, recollected me, and set me -free, not only without ransom, but made me a present of a -very splendid watch, and related his history to me." -"Let us see the watch," said Albert. -Signor Pastrini drew from his fob a magnificent Breguet, -bearing the name of its maker, of Parisian manufacture, and -a count's coronet. -"Here it is," said he. -"Peste," returned Albert, "I compliment you on it I have -its fellow" he took his watch from his waistcoat pocket -"and it cost me , francs." -"Let us hear the history," said Franz, motioning Signor -Pastrini to seat himself. -"Your excellencies permit it?" asked the host. -"Pardieu" cried Albert, "you are not a preacher, to remain -standing" -The host sat down, after having made each of them a -respectful bow, which meant that he was ready to tell them -all they wished to know concerning Luigi Vampa. "You tell -me," said Franz, at the moment Signor Pastrini was about to -open his mouth, "that you knew Luigi Vampa when he was a -child he is still a young man, then?" -"A young man? he is only two and twenty he will gain -himself a reputation." -"What do you think of that, Albert? at two and twenty to -be thus famous?" -"Yes, and at his age, Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon, who -have all made some noise in the world, were quite behind -him." -"So," continued Franz, "the hero of this history is only two -and twenty?" -"Scarcely so much." -"Is he tall or short?" -"Of the middle height about the same stature as his -excellency," returned the host, pointing to Albert. -"Thanks for the comparison," said Albert, with a bow. -"Go on, Signor Pastrini," continued Franz, smiling at his -friend's susceptibility. "To what class of society does he -belong?" -"He was a shepherdboy attached to the farm of the Count of -SanFelice, situated between Palestrina and the lake of -Gabri he was born at Pampinara, and entered the count's -service when he was five years old his father was also a -shepherd, who owned a small flock, and lived by the wool and -the milk, which he sold at Rome. When quite a child, the -little Vampa displayed a most extraordinary precocity. One -day, when he was seven years old, he came to the curate of -Palestrina, and asked to be taught to read it was somewhat -difficult, for he could not quit his flock but the good -curate went every day to say mass at a little hamlet too -poor to pay a priest and which, having no other name, was -called Borgo he told Luigi that he might meet him on his -return, and that then he would give him a lesson, warning -him that it would be short, and that he must profit as much -as possible by it. The child accepted joyfully. Every day -Luigi led his flock to graze on the road that leads from -Palestrina to Borgo every day, at nine o'clock in the -morning, the priest and the boy sat down on a bank by the -wayside, and the little shepherd took his lesson out of the -priest's breviary. At the end of three months he had learned -to read. This was not enough he must now learn to write. -The priest had a writing teacher at Rome make three -alphabets one large, one middling, and one small and -pointed out to him that by the help of a sharp instrument he -could trace the letters on a slate, and thus learn to write. -The same evening, when the flock was safe at the farm, the -little Luigi hastened to the smith at Palestrina, took a -large nail, heated and sharpened it, and formed a sort of -stylus. The next morning he gathered an armful of pieces of -slate and began. At the end of three months he had learned -to write. The curate, astonished at his quickness and -intelligence, made him a present of pens, paper, and a -penknife. This demanded new effort, but nothing compared to -the first at the end of a week he wrote as well with this -pen as with the stylus. The curate related the incident to -the Count of SanFelice, who sent for the little shepherd, -made him read and write before him, ordered his attendant to -let him eat with the domestics, and to give him two piastres -a month. With this, Luigi purchased books and pencils. He -applied his imitative powers to everything, and, like -Giotto, when young, he drew on his slate sheep, houses, and -trees. Then, with his knife, he began to carve all sorts of -objects in wood it was thus that Pinelli, the famous -sculptor, had commenced. -"A girl of six or seven that is, a little younger than -Vampa tended sheep on a farm near Palestrina she was an -orphan, born at Valmontone and was named Teresa. The two -children met, sat down near each other, let their flocks -mingle together, played, laughed, and conversed together in -the evening they separated the Count of SanFelice's flock -from those of Baron Cervetri, and the children returned to -their respective farms, promising to meet the next morning. -The next day they kept their word, and thus they grew up -together. Vampa was twelve, and Teresa eleven. And yet their -natural disposition revealed itself. Beside his taste for -the fine arts, which Luigi had carried as far as he could in -his solitude, he was given to alternating fits of sadness -and enthusiasm, was often angry and capricious, and always -sarcastic. None of the lads of Pampinara, Palestrina, or -Valmontone had been able to gain any influence over him or -even to become his companion. His disposition always -inclined to exact concessions rather than to make them kept -him aloof from all friendships. Teresa alone ruled by a -look, a word, a gesture, this impetuous character, which -yielded beneath the hand of a woman, and which beneath the -hand of a man might have broken, but could never have been -bended. Teresa was lively and gay, but coquettish to excess. -The two piastres that Luigi received every month from the -Count of SanFelice's steward, and the price of all the -little carvings in wood he sold at Rome, were expended in -earrings, necklaces, and gold hairpins. So that, thanks to -her friend's generosity, Teresa was the most beautiful and -the bestattired peasant near Rome. The two children grew up -together, passing all their time with each other, and giving -themselves up to the wild ideas of their different -characters. Thus, in all their dreams, their wishes, and -their conversations, Vampa saw himself the captain of a -vessel, general of an army, or governor of a province. -Teresa saw herself rich, superbly attired, and attended by a -train of liveried domestics. Then, when they had thus passed -the day in building castles in the air, they separated their -flocks, and descended from the elevation of their dreams to -the reality of their humble position. -"One day the young shepherd told the count's steward that he -had seen a wolf come out of the Sabine mountains, and prowl -around his flock. The steward gave him a gun this was what -Vampa longed for. This gun had an excellent barrel, made at -Breschia, and carrying a ball with the precision of an -English rifle but one day the count broke the stock, and -had then cast the gun aside. This, however, was nothing to a -sculptor like Vampa he examined the broken stock, -calculated what change it would require to adapt the gun to -his shoulder, and made a fresh stock, so beautifully carved -that it would have fetched fifteen or twenty piastres, had -he chosen to sell it. But nothing could be farther from his -thoughts. For a long time a gun had been the young man's -greatest ambition. In every country where independence has -taken the place of liberty, the first desire of a manly -heart is to possess a weapon, which at once renders him -capable of defence or attack, and, by rendering its owner -terrible, often makes him feared. From this moment Vampa -devoted all his leisure time to perfecting himself in the -use of his precious weapon he purchased powder and ball, -and everything served him for a mark the trunk of some -old and mossgrown olivetree, that grew on the Sabine -mountains the fox, as he quitted his earth on some -marauding excursion the eagle that soared above their -heads and thus he soon became so expert, that Teresa -overcame the terror she at first felt at the report, and -amused herself by watching him direct the ball wherever he -pleased, with as much accuracy as if he placed it by hand. -"One evening a wolf emerged from a pinewood hear which they -were usually stationed, but the wolf had scarcely advanced -ten yards ere he was dead. Proud of this exploit, Vampa took -the dead animal on his shoulders, and carried him to the -farm. These exploits had gained Luigi considerable -reputation. The man of superior abilities always finds -admirers, go where he will. He was spoken of as the most -adroit, the strongest, and the most courageous contadino for -ten leagues around and although Teresa was universally -allowed to be the most beautiful girl of the Sabines, no one -had ever spoken to her of love, because it was known that -she was beloved by Vampa. And yet the two young people had -never declared their affection they had grown together like -two trees whose roots are mingled, whose branches -intertwined, and whose intermingled perfume rises to the -heavens. Only their wish to see each other had become a -necessity, and they would have preferred death to a day's -separation. Teresa was sixteen, and Vampa seventeen. About -this time, a band of brigands that had established itself in -the Lepini mountains began to be much spoken of. The -brigands have never been really extirpated from the -neighborhood of Rome. Sometimes a chief is wanted, but when -a chief presents himself he rarely has to wait long for a -band of followers. -"The celebrated Cucumetto, pursued in the Abruzzo, driven -out of the kingdom of Naples, where he had carried on a -regular war, had crossed the Garigliano, like Manfred, and -had taken refuge on the banks of the Amasine between Sonnino -and Juperno. He strove to collect a band of followers, and -followed the footsteps of Decesaris and Gasperone, whom he -hoped to surpass. Many young men of Palestrina, Frascati, -and Pampinara had disappeared. Their disappearance at first -caused much disquietude but it was soon known that they had -joined Cucumetto. After some time Cucumetto became the -object of universal attention the most extraordinary traits -of ferocious daring and brutality were related of him. One -day he carried off a young girl, the daughter of a surveyor -of Frosinone. The bandit's laws are positive a young girl -belongs first to him who carries her off, then the rest draw -lots for her, and she is abandoned to their brutality until -death relieves her sufferings. When their parents are -sufficiently rich to pay a ransom, a messenger is sent to -negotiate the prisoner is hostage for the security of the -messenger should the ransom be refused, the prisoner is -irrevocably lost. The young girl's lover was in Cucumetto's -troop his name was Carlini. When she recognized her lover, -the poor girl extended her arms to him, and believed herself -safe but Carlini felt his heart sink, for he but too well -knew the fate that awaited her. However, as he was a -favorite with Cucumetto, as he had for three years -faithfully served him, and as he had saved his life by -shooting a dragoon who was about to cut him down, he hoped -the chief would have pity on him. He took Cucumetto one -side, while the young girl, seated at the foot of a huge -pine that stood in the centre of the forest, made a veil of -her picturesque headdress to hide her face from the -lascivious gaze of the bandits. There he told the chief all -his affection for the prisoner, their promises of mutual -fidelity, and how every night, since he had been near, they -had met in some neighboring ruins. -"It so happened that night that Cucumetto had sent Carlini -to a village, so that he had been unable to go to the place -of meeting. Cucumetto had been there, however, by accident, -as he said, and had carried the maiden off. Carlini besought -his chief to make an exception in Rita's favor, as her -father was rich, and could pay a large ransom. Cucumetto -seemed to yield to his friend's entreaties, and bade him -find a shepherd to send to Rita's father at Frosinone. -Carlini flew joyfully to Rita, telling her she was saved, -and bidding her write to her father, to inform him what had -occurred, and that her ransom was fixed at three hundred -piastres. Twelve hours' delay was all that was granted -that is, until nine the next morning. The instant the letter -was written, Carlini seized it, and hastened to the plain to -find a messenger. He found a young shepherd watching his -flock. The natural messengers of the bandits are the -shepherds who live between the city and the mountains, -between civilized and savage life. The boy undertook the -commission, promising to be in Frosinone in less than an -hour. Carlini returned, anxious to see his mistress, and -announce the joyful intelligence. He found the troop in the -glade, supping off the provisions exacted as contributions -from the peasants but his eye vainly sought Rita and -Cucumetto among them. He inquired where they were, and was -answered by a burst of laughter. A cold perspiration burst -from every pore, and his hair stood on end. He repeated his -question. One of the bandits rose, and offered him a glass -filled with Orvietto, saying, "To the health of the brave -Cucumetto and the fair Rita.' At this moment Carlini heard a -woman's cry he divined the truth, seized the glass, broke -it across the face of him who presented it, and rushed -towards the spot whence the cry came. After a hundred yards -he turned the corner of the thicket he found Rita senseless -in the arms of Cucumetto. At the sight of Carlini, Cucumetto -rose, a pistol in each hand. The two brigands looked at each -other for a moment the one with a smile of lasciviousness -on his lips, the other with the pallor of death on his brow. -A terrible battle between the two men seemed imminent but -by degrees Carlini's features relaxed, his hand, which had -grasped one of the pistols in his belt, fell to his side. -Rita lay between them. The moon lighted the group. -""Well,' said Cucumetto, "have you executed your -commission?' -""Yes, captain,' returned Carlini. "At nine o'clock -tomorrow Rita's father will be here with the money.' "It -is well in the meantime, we will have a merry night this -young girl is charming, and does credit to your taste. Now, -as I am not egotistical, we will return to our comrades and -draw lots for her.' "You have determined, then, to -abandon her to the common law?" said Carlini. -""Why should an exception be made in her favor?' -""I thought that my entreaties' -""What right have you, any more than the rest, to ask for an -exception?' "It is true.' "But never mind,' continued -Cucumetto, laughing, "sooner or later your turn will come.' -Carlini's teeth clinched convulsively. -""Now, then,' said Cucumetto, advancing towards the other -bandits, "are you coming?' "I follow you.' -"Cucumetto departed, without losing sight of Carlini, for, -doubtless, he feared lest he should strike him unawares but -nothing betrayed a hostile design on Carlini's part. He was -standing, his arms folded, near Rita, who was still -insensible. Cucumetto fancied for a moment the young man was -about to take her in his arms and fly but this mattered -little to him now Rita had been his and as for the money, -three hundred piastres distributed among the band was so -small a sum that he cared little about it. He continued to -follow the path to the glade but, to his great surprise, -Carlini arrived almost as soon as himself. "Let us draw -lots let us draw lots' cried all the brigands, when they -saw the chief. -"Their demand was fair, and the chief inclined his head in -sign of acquiescence. The eyes of all shone fiercely as they -made their demand, and the red light of the fire made them -look like demons. The names of all, including Carlini, were -placed in a hat, and the youngest of the band drew forth a -ticket the ticket bore the name of Diovolaccio. He was the -man who had proposed to Carlini the health of their chief, -and to whom Carlini replied by breaking the glass across his -face. A large wound, extending from the temple to the mouth, -was bleeding profusely. Diovalaccio, seeing himself thus -favored by fortune, burst into a loud laugh. "Captain,' said -he, "just now Carlini would not drink your health when I -proposed it to him propose mine to him, and let us see if -he will be more condescending to you than to me.' Every one -expected an explosion on Carlini's part but to their great -surprise, he took a glass in one hand and a flask in the -other, and filling it, "Your health, Diavolaccio,' said -he calmly, and he drank it off, without his hand trembling -in the least. Then sitting down by the fire, "My supper,' -said he "my expedition has given me an appetite.' "Well -done, Carlini' cried the brigands "that is acting like a -good fellow' and they all formed a circle round the fire, -while Diavolaccio disappeared. Carlini ate and drank as if -nothing had happened. The bandits looked on with -astonishment at this singular conduct until they heard -footsteps. They turned round, and saw Diavolaccio bearing -the young girl in his arms. Her head hung back, and her long -hair swept the ground. As they entered the circle, the -bandits could perceive, by the firelight, the unearthly -pallor of the young girl and of Diavolaccio. This apparition -was so strange and so solemn, that every one rose, with the -exception of Carlini, who remained seated, and ate and drank -calmly. Diavolaccio advanced amidst the most profound -silence, and laid Rita at the captain's feet. Then every one -could understand the cause of the unearthly pallor in the -young girl and the bandit. A knife was plunged up to the -hilt in Rita's left breast. Every one looked at Carlini the -sheath at his belt was empty. "Ah, ah,' said the chief, "I -now understand why Carlini stayed behind.' All savage -natures appreciate a desperate deed. No other of the bandits -would, perhaps, have done the same but they all understood -what Carlini had done. "Now, then,' cried Carlini, rising in -his turn, and approaching the corpse, his hand on the butt -of one of his pistols, "does any one dispute the possession -of this woman with me?' "No,' returned the chief, "she is -thine.' Carlini raised her in his arms, and carried her out -of the circle of firelight. Cucumetto placed his sentinels -for the night, and the bandits wrapped themselves in their -cloaks, and lay down before the fire. At midnight the -sentinel gave the alarm, and in an instant all were on the -alert. It was Rita's father, who brought his daughter's -ransom in person. "Here,' said he, to Cucumetto, "here are -three hundred piastres give me back my child. But the -chief, without taking the money, made a sign to him to -follow. The old man obeyed. They both advanced beneath the -trees, through whose branches streamed the moonlight. -Cucumetto stopped at last, and pointed to two persons -grouped at the foot of a tree. -""There,' said he, "demand thy child of Carlini he will -tell thee what has become of her' and he returned to his -companions. The old man remained motionless he felt that -some great and unforeseen misfortune hung over his head. At -length he advanced toward the group, the meaning of which he -could not comprehend. As he approached, Carlini raised his -head, and the forms of two persons became visible to the old -man's eyes. A woman lay on the ground, her head resting on -the knees of a man, who was seated by her as he raised his -head, the woman's face became visible. The old man -recognized his child, and Carlini recognized the old man. "I -expected thee,' said the bandit to Rita's father. -"Wretch' returned the old man, "what hast thou done?' and -he gazed with terror on Rita, pale and bloody, a knife -buried in her bosom. A ray of moonlight poured through the -trees, and lighted up the face of the dead. "Cucumetto -had violated thy daughter,' said the bandit "I loved her, -therefore I slew her for she would have served as the sport -of the whole band.' The old man spoke not, and grew pale as -death. "Now,' continued Carlini, "if I have done wrongly, -avenge her' and withdrawing the knife from the wound in -Rita's bosom, he held it out to the old man with one hand, -while with the other he tore open his vest. "Thou hast -done well' returned the old man in a hoarse voice "embrace -me, my son.' Carlini threw himself, sobbing like a child, -into the arms of his mistress's father. These were the first -tears the man of blood had ever wept. "Now,' said the old -man, "aid me to bury my child.' Carlini fetched two -pickaxes and the father and the lover began to dig at the -foot of a huge oak, beneath which the young girl was to -repose. When the grave was formed, the father kissed her -first, and then the lover afterwards, one taking the head, -the other the feet, they placed her in the grave. Then they -knelt on each side of the grave, and said the prayers of the -dead. Then, when they had finished, they cast the earth over -the corpse, until the grave was filled. Then, extending his -hand, the old man said "I thank you, my son and now leave -me alone.' "Yet' replied Carlini. "Leave me, I -command you.' Carlini obeyed, rejoined his comrades, folded -himself in his cloak, and soon appeared to sleep as soundly -as the rest. It had been resolved the night before to change -their encampment. An hour before daybreak, Cucumetto aroused -his men, and gave the word to march. But Carlini would not -quit the forest, without knowing what had become of Rita's -father. He went toward the place where he had left him. He -found the old man suspended from one of the branches of the -oak which shaded his daughter's grave. He then took an oath -of bitter vengeance over the dead body of the one and the -tomb of the other. But he was unable to complete this oath, -for two days afterwards, in an encounter with the Roman -carbineers, Carlini was killed. There was some surprise, -however, that, as he was with his face to the enemy, he -should have received a ball between his shoulders. That -astonishment ceased when one of the brigands remarked to his -comrades that Cucumetto was stationed ten paces in Carlini's -rear when he fell. On the morning of the departure from the -forest of Frosinone he had followed Carlini in the darkness, -and heard this oath of vengeance, and, like a wise man, -anticipated it. They told ten other stories of this bandit -chief, each more singular than the other. Thus, from Fondi -to Perusia, every one trembles at the name of Cucumetto. -"These narratives were frequently the theme of conversation -between Luigi and Teresa. The young girl trembled very much -at hearing the stories but Vampa reassured her with a -smile, tapping the butt of his good fowlingpiece, which -threw its ball so well and if that did not restore her -courage, he pointed to a crow, perched on some dead branch, -took aim, touched the trigger, and the bird fell dead at the -foot of the tree. Time passed on, and the two young people -had agreed to be married when Vampa should be twenty and -Teresa nineteen years of age. They were both orphans, and -had only their employers' leave to ask, which had been -already sought and obtained. One day when they were talking -over their plans for the future, they heard two or three -reports of firearms, and then suddenly a man came out of the -wood, near which the two young persons used to graze their -flocks, and hurried towards them. When he came within -hearing, he exclaimed. "I am pursued can you conceal me?' -They knew full well that this fugitive must be a bandit but -there is an innate sympathy between the Roman brigand and -the Roman peasant and the latter is always ready to aid the -former. Vampa, without saying a word, hastened to the stone -that closed up the entrance to their grotto, drew it away, -made a sign to the fugitive to take refuge there, in a -retreat unknown to every one, closed the stone upon him, and -then went and resumed his seat by Teresa. Instantly -afterwards four carbineers, on horseback, appeared on the -edge of the wood three of them appeared to be looking for -the fugitive, while the fourth dragged a brigand prisoner by -the neck. The three carbineers looked about carefully on -every side, saw the young peasants, and galloping up, began -to question them. They had seen no one. "That is very -annoying,' said the brigadier for the man we are looking -for is the chief.' "Cucumetto?' cried Luigi and Teresa at -the same moment. -""Yes,' replied the brigadier "and as his head is valued at -a thousand Roman crowns, there would have been five hundred -for you, if you had helped us to catch him.' The two young -persons exchanged looks. The brigadier had a moment's hope. -Five hundred Roman crowns are three thousand lire, and three -thousand lire are a fortune for two poor orphans who are -going to be married. -""Yes, it is very annoying,' said Vampa "but we have not -seen him.' -"Then the carbineers scoured the country in different -directions, but in vain then, after a time, they -disappeared. Vampa then removed the stone, and Cucumetto -came out. Through the crevices in the granite he had seen -the two young peasants talking with the carbineers, and -guessed the subject of their parley. He had read in the -countenances of Luigi and Teresa their steadfast resolution -not to surrender him, and he drew from his pocket a purse -full of gold, which he offered to them. But Vampa raised his -head proudly as to Teresa, her eyes sparkled when she -thought of all the fine gowns and gay jewellery she could -buy with this purse of gold. -"Cucumetto was a cunning fiend, and had assumed the form of -a brigand instead of a serpent, and this look from Teresa -showed to him that she was a worthy daughter of Eve, and he -returned to the forest, pausing several times on his way, -under the pretext of saluting his protectors. Several days -elapsed, and they neither saw nor heard of Cucumetto. The -time of the Carnival was at hand. The Count of SanFelice -announced a grand masked ball, to which all that were -distinguished in Rome were invited. Teresa had a great -desire to see this ball. Luigi asked permission of his -protector, the steward, that she and he might be present -amongst the servants of the house. This was granted. The -ball was given by the Count for the particular pleasure of -his daughter Carmela, whom he adored. Carmela was precisely -the age and figure of Teresa, and Teresa was as handsome as -Carmela. On the evening of the ball Teresa was attired in -her best, her most brilliant ornaments in her hair, and -gayest glass beads, she was in the costume of the women -of Frascati. Luigi wore the very picturesque garb of the -Roman peasant at holiday time. They both mingled, as they -had leave to do, with the servants and peasants. -"The festa was magnificent not only was the villa -brilliantly illuminated, but thousands of colored lanterns -were suspended from the trees in the garden and very soon -the palace overflowed to the terraces, and the terraces to -the gardenwalks. At each crosspath was an orchestra, and -tables spread with refreshments the guests stopped, formed -quadrilles, and danced in any part of the grounds they -pleased. Carmela was attired like a woman of Sonnino. Her -cap was embroidered with pearls, the pins in her hair were -of gold and diamonds, her girdle was of Turkey silk, with -large embroidered flowers, her bodice and skirt were of -cashmere, her apron of Indian muslin, and the buttons of her -corset were of jewels. Two of her companions were dressed, -the one as a woman of Nettuno, and the other as a woman of -La Riccia. Four young men of the richest and noblest -families of Rome accompanied them with that Italian freedom -which has not its parallel in any other country in the -world. They were attired as peasants of Albano, Velletri, -CivitaCastellana, and Sora. We need hardly add that these -peasant costumes, like those of the young women, were -brilliant with gold and jewels. -"Carmela wished to form a quadrille, but there was one lady -wanting. Carmela looked all around her, but not one of the -guests had a costume similar to her own, or those of her -companions. The Count of SanFelice pointed out Teresa, who -was hanging on Luigi's arm in a group of peasants. "Will you -allow me, father?' said Carmela. "Certainly,' replied the -count, "are we not in Carnival time?' Carmela turned -towards the young man who was talking with her, and saying a -few words to him, pointed with her finger to Teresa. The -young man looked, bowed in obedience, and then went to -Teresa, and invited her to dance in a quadrille directed by -the count's daughter. Teresa felt a flush pass over her -face she looked at Luigi, who could not refuse his assent. -Luigi slowly relinquished Teresa's arm, which he had held -beneath his own, and Teresa, accompanied by her elegant -cavalier, took her appointed place with much agitation in -the aristocratic quadrille. Certainly, in the eyes of an -artist, the exact and strict costume of Teresa had a very -different character from that of Carmela and her companions -and Teresa was frivolous and coquettish, and thus the -embroidery and muslins, the cashmere waistgirdles, all -dazzled her, and the reflection of sapphires and diamonds -almost turned her giddy brain. -"Luigi felt a sensation hitherto unknown arising in his -mind. It was like an acute pain which gnawed at his heart, -and then thrilled through his whole body. He followed with -his eye each movement of Teresa and her cavalier when their -hands touched, he felt as though he should swoon every -pulse beat with violence, and it seemed as though a bell -were ringing in his ears. When they spoke, although Teresa -listened timidly and with downcast eyes to the conversation -of her cavalier, as Luigi could read in the ardent looks of -the goodlooking young man that his language was that of -praise, it seemed as if the whole world was turning round -with him, and all the voices of hell were whispering in his -ears ideas of murder and assassination. Then fearing that -his paroxysm might get the better of him, he clutched with -one hand the branch of a tree against which he was leaning, -and with the other convulsively grasped the dagger with a -carved handle which was in his belt, and which, unwittingly, -he drew from the scabbard from time to time. Luigi was -jealous He felt that, influenced by her ambitions and -coquettish disposition, Teresa might escape him. -"The young peasant girl, at first timid and scared, soon -recovered herself. We have said that Teresa was handsome, -but this is not all Teresa was endowed with all those wild -graces which are so much more potent than our affected and -studied elegancies. She had almost all the honors of the -quadrille, and if she were envious of the Count of -SanFelice's daughter, we will not undertake to say that -Carmela was not jealous of her. And with overpowering -compliments her handsome cavalier led her back to the place -whence he had taken her, and where Luigi awaited her. Twice -or thrice during the dance the young girl had glanced at -Luigi, and each time she saw that he was pale and that his -features were agitated, once even the blade of his knife, -half drawn from its sheath, had dazzled her eyes with its -sinister glare. Thus, it was almost tremblingly that she -resumed her lover's arm. The quadrille had been most -perfect, and it was evident there was a great demand for a -repetition, Carmela alone objecting to it, but the Count of -SanFelice besought his daughter so earnestly, that she -acceded. One of the cavaliers then hastened to invite -Teresa, without whom it was impossible for the quadrille to -be formed, but the young girl had disappeared. The truth -was, that Luigi had not felt the strength to support another -such trial, and, half by persuasion and half by force, he -had removed Teresa toward another part of the garden. Teresa -had yielded in spite of herself, but when she looked at the -agitated countenance of the young man, she understood by his -silence and trembling voice that something strange was -passing within him. She herself was not exempt from internal -emotion, and without having done anything wrong, yet fully -comprehended that Luigi was right in reproaching her. Why, -she did not know, but yet she did not the less feel that -these reproaches were merited. However, to Teresa's great -astonishment, Luigi remained mute, and not a word escaped -his lips the rest of the evening. When the chill of the -night had driven away the guests from the gardens, and the -gates of the villa were closed on them for the festa -indoors, he took Teresa quite away, and as he left her at -her home, he said, -""Teresa, what were you thinking of as you danced opposite -the young Countess of SanFelice?' "I thought,' replied -the young girl, with all the frankness of her nature, "that -I would give half my life for a costume such as she wore.' -""And what said your cavalier to you?' "He said it only -depended on myself to have it, and I had only one word to -say.' -""He was right,' said Luigi. "Do you desire it as ardently -as you say?' "Yes.' "Well, then, you shall have it' -"The young girl, much astonished, raised her head to look at -him, but his face was so gloomy and terrible that her words -froze to her lips. As Luigi spoke thus, he left her. Teresa -followed him with her eyes into the darkness as long as she -could, and when he had quite disappeared, she went into the -house with a sigh. -"That night a memorable event occurred, due, no doubt, to -the imprudence of some servant who had neglected to -extinguish the lights. The Villa of SanFelice took fire in -the rooms adjoining the very apartment of the lovely -Carmela. Awakened in the night by the light of the flames, -she sprang out of bed, wrapped herself in a dressinggown, -and attempted to escape by the door, but the corridor by -which she hoped to fly was already a prey to the flames. She -then returned to her room, calling for help as loudly as she -could, when suddenly her window, which was twenty feet from -the ground, was opened, a young peasant jumped into the -chamber, seized her in his arms, and with superhuman skill -and strength conveyed her to the turf of the grassplot, -where she fainted. When she recovered, her father was by her -side. All the servants surrounded her, offering her -assistance. An entire wing of the villa was burnt down but -what of that, as long as Carmela was safe and uninjured? Her -preserver was everywhere sought for, but he did not appear -he was inquired after, but no one had seen him. Carmela was -greatly troubled that she had not recognized him. As the -count was immensely rich, excepting the danger Carmela had -run, and the marvellous manner in which she had escaped, -made that appear to him rather a favor of providence than a -real misfortune, the loss occasioned by the conflagration -was to him but a trifle. -"The next day, at the usual hour, the two young peasants -were on the borders of the forest. Luigi arrived first. He -came toward Teresa in high spirits, and seemed to have -completely forgotten the events of the previous evening. The -young girl was very pensive, but seeing Luigi so cheerful, -she on her part assumed a smiling air, which was natural to -her when she was not excited or in a passion. Luigi took her -arm beneath his own, and led her to the door of the grotto. -Then he paused. The young girl, perceiving that there was -something extraordinary, looked at him steadfastly. -"Teresa,' said Luigi, "yesterday evening you told me you -would give all the world to have a costume similar to that -of the count's daughter.' "Yes,' replied Teresa with -astonishment "but I was mad to utter such a wish.' "And -I replied, "Very well, you shall have it."' "Yes,' -replied the young girl, whose astonishment increased at -every word uttered by Luigi, "but of course your reply was -only to please me.' -""I have promised no more than I have given you, Teresa,' -said Luigi proudly. "Go into the grotto and dress yourself.' -At these words he drew away the stone, and showed Teresa the -grotto, lighted up by two wax lights, which burnt on each -side of a splendid mirror on a rustic table, made by Luigi, -were spread out the pearl necklace and the diamond pins, and -on a chair at the side was laid the rest of the costume. -"Teresa uttered a cry of joy, and, without inquiring whence -this attire came, or even thanking Luigi, darted into the -grotto, transformed into a dressingroom. Luigi pushed the -stone behind her, for on the crest of a small adjacent hill -which cut off the view toward Palestrina, he saw a traveller -on horseback, stopping a moment, as if uncertain of his -road, and thus presenting against the blue sky that perfect -outline which is peculiar to distant objects in southern -climes. When he saw Luigi, he put his horse into a gallop -and advanced toward him. Luigi was not mistaken. The -traveller, who was going from Palestrina to Tivoli, had -mistaken his way the young man directed him but as at a -distance of a quarter of a mile the road again divided into -three ways, and on reaching these the traveller might again -stray from his route, he begged Luigi to be his guide. Luigi -threw his cloak on the ground, placed his carbine on his -shoulder, and freed from his heavy covering, preceded the -traveller with the rapid step of a mountaineer, which a -horse can scarcely keep up with. In ten minutes Luigi and -the traveller reached the crossroads. On arriving there, -with an air as majestic as that of an emperor, he stretched -his hand towards that one of the roads which the traveller -was to follow. "That is your road, excellency, and now -you cannot again mistake.' "And here is your recompense,' -said the traveller, offering the young herdsman some small -pieces of money. -""Thank you,' said Luigi, drawing back his hand "I render a -service, I do not sell it.' "Well,' replied the -traveller, who seemed used to this difference between the -servility of a man of the cities and the pride of the -mountaineer, "if you refuse wages, you will, perhaps, accept -a gift.' "Ah, yes, that is another thing.' "Then,' -said the traveller, "take these two Venetian sequins and -give them to your bride, to make herself a pair of -earrings.' -""And then do you take this poniard,' said the young -herdsman "you will not find one better carved between -Albano and CivitaCastellana.' -""I accept it,' answered the traveller, "but then the -obligation will be on my side, for this poniard is worth -more than two sequins.' "For a dealer perhaps but for -me, who engraved it myself, it is hardly worth a piastre.' -""What is your name?' inquired the traveller. "Luigi -Vampa,' replied the shepherd, with the same air as he would -have replied, Alexander, King of Macedon. "And yours?' -"I,' said the traveller, "am called Sinbad the Sailor.'" -Franz d'Epinay started with surprise. -"Sinbad the Sailor." he said. -"Yes," replied the narrator "that was the name which the -traveller gave to Vampa as his own." -"Well, and what may you have to say against this name?" -inquired Albert "it is a very pretty name, and the -adventures of the gentleman of that name amused me very much -in my youth, I must confess." Franz said no more. The -name of Sinbad the Sailor, as may well be supposed, awakened -in him a world of recollections, as had the name of the -Count of Monte Cristo on the previous evening. -"Proceed" said he to the host. -"Vampa put the two sequins haughtily into his pocket, and -slowly returned by the way he had gone. As he came within -two or three hundred paces of the grotto, he thought he -heard a cry. He listened to know whence this sound could -proceed. A moment afterwards he thought he heard his own -name pronounced distinctly. The cry proceeded from the -grotto. He bounded like a chamois, cocking his carbine as he -went, and in a moment reached the summit of a hill opposite -to that on which he had perceived the traveller. Three cries -for help came more distinctly to his ear. He cast his eyes -around him and saw a man carrying off Teresa, as Nessus, the -centaur, carried Dejanira. This man, who was hastening -towards the wood, was already threequarters of the way on -the road from the grotto to the forest. Vampa measured the -distance the man was at least two hundred paces in advance -of him, and there was not a chance of overtaking him. The -young shepherd stopped, as if his feet had been rooted to -the ground then he put the butt of his carbine to his -shoulder, took aim at the ravisher, followed him for a -second in his track, and then fired. The ravisher stopped -suddenly, his knees bent under him, and he fell with Teresa -in his arms. The young girl rose instantly, but the man lay -on the earth struggling in the agonies of death. Vampa then -rushed towards Teresa for at ten paces from the dying man -her legs had failed her, and she had dropped on her knees, -so that the young man feared that the ball that had brought -down his enemy, had also wounded his betrothed. Fortunately, -she was unscathed, and it was fright alone that had overcome -Teresa. When Luigi had assured himself that she was safe and -unharmed, he turned towards the wounded man. He had just -expired, with clinched hands, his mouth in a spasm of agony, -and his hair on end in the sweat of death. His eyes remained -open and menacing. Vampa approached the corpse, and -recognized Cucumetto. From the day on which the bandit had -been saved by the two young peasants, he had been enamoured -of Teresa, and had sworn she should be his. From that time -he had watched them, and profiting by the moment when her -lover had left her alone, had carried her off, and believed -he at length had her in his power, when the ball, directed -by the unerring skill of the young herdsman, had pierced his -heart. Vampa gazed on him for a moment without betraying the -slightest emotion while, on the contrary, Teresa, -shuddering in every limb, dared not approach the slain -ruffian but by degrees, and threw a hesitating glance at the -dead body over the shoulder of her lover. Suddenly Vampa -turned toward his mistress "Ah,' said he "good, good -You are dressed it is now my turn to dress myself.' -"Teresa was clothed from head to foot in the garb of the -Count of SanFelice's daughter. Vampa took Cucumetto's body -in his arms and conveyed it to the grotto, while in her turn -Teresa remained outside. If a second traveller had passed, -he would have seen a strange thing, a shepherdess -watching her flock, clad in a cashmere grown, with earrings -and necklace of pearls, diamond pins, and buttons of -sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. He would, no doubt, have -believed that he had returned to the times of Florian, and -would have declared, on reaching Paris, that he had met an -Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of the Sabine Hill. At -the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the grotto -his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. He wore -a vest of garnetcolored velvet, with buttons of cut gold a -silk waistcoat covered with embroidery a Roman scarf tied -round his neck a cartridgebox worked with gold, and red -and green silk skyblue velvet breeches, fastened above the -knee with diamond buckles garters of deerskin, worked with -a thousand arabesques, and a hat whereon hung ribbons of all -colors two watches hung from his girdle, and a splendid -poniard was in his belt. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. -Vampa in this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert, -or Schnetz. He had assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. -The young man saw the effect produced on his betrothed, and -a smile of pride passed over his lips. "Now,' he said to -Teresa, "are you ready to share my fortune, whatever it may -be?' "Oh, yes' exclaimed the young girl -enthusiastically. "And follow me wherever I go?' "To -the world's end.' "Then take my arm, and let us on we -have no time to lose.' The young girl did so without -questioning her lover as to where he was conducting her, for -he appeared to her at this moment as handsome, proud, and -powerful as a god. They went towards the forest, and soon -entered it. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the -mountain were known to Vampa he therefore went forward -without a moment's hesitation, although there was no beaten -track, but he knew his path by looking at the trees and -bushes, and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour -and a half. At the end of this time they had reached the -thickest of the forest. A torrent, whose bed was dry, led -into a deep gorge. Vampa took this wild road, which, -enclosed between two ridges, and shadowed by the tufted -umbrage of the pines, seemed, but for the difficulties of -its descent, that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. -Teresa had become alarmed at the wild and deserted look of -the plain around her, and pressed closely against her guide, -not uttering a syllable but as she saw him advance with -even step and composed countenance, she endeavored to -repress her emotion. Suddenly, about ten paces from them, a -man advanced from behind a tree and aimed at Vampa. "Not -another step,' he said, "or you are a dead man.' "What, -then,' said Vampa, raising his hand with a gesture of -disdain, while Teresa, no longer able to restrain her alarm, -clung closely to him, "do wolves rend each other?' "Who -are you?' inquired the sentinel. "I am Luigi Vampa, -shepherd of the SanFelice farm.' "What do you want?' -"I would speak with your companions who are in the glade at -Rocca Bianca.' "Follow me, then,' said the sentinel "or, -as you know your way, go first.' Vampa smiled -disdainfully at this precaution on the part of the bandit, -went before Teresa, and continued to advance with the same -firm and easy step as before. At the end of ten minutes the -bandit made them a sign to stop. The two young persons -obeyed. Then the bandit thrice imitated the cry of a crow a -croak answered this signal. "Good' said the sentry, "you -may now go on.' Luigi and Teresa again set forward as -they went on Teresa clung tremblingly to her lover at the -sight of weapons and the glistening of carbines through the -trees. The retreat of Rocca Bianca was at the top of a small -mountain, which no doubt in former days had been a volcano -an extinct volcano before the days when Remus and Romulus -had deserted Alba to come and found the city of Rome. Teresa -and Luigi reached the summit, and all at once found -themselves in the presence of twenty bandits. "Here is a -young man who seeks and wishes to speak to you,' said the -sentinel. "What has he to say?' inquired the young man -who was in command in the chief's absence. "I wish to say -that I am tired of a shepherd's life,' was Vampa's reply. -"Ah, I understand,' said the lieutenant "and you seek -admittance into our ranks?' "Welcome' cried several -bandits from Ferrusino, Pampinara, and Anagni, who had -recognized Luigi Vampa. "Yes, but I came to ask something -more than to be your companion.' "And what may that be?' -inquired the bandits with astonishment. "I come to ask to -be your captain,' said the young man. The bandits shouted -with laughter. "And what have you done to aspire to this -honor?' demanded the lieutenant. "I have killed your -chief, Cucumetto, whose dress I now wear and I set fire to -the villa SanFelice to procure a weddingdress for my -betrothed.' An hour afterwards Luigi Vampa was chosen -captain, vice Cucumetto deceased." -"Well, my dear Albert," said Franz, turning towards his -friend "what think you of citizen Luigi Vampa?" -"I say he is a myth," replied Albert, "and never had an -existence." -"And what may a myth be?" inquired Pastrini. -"The explanation would be too long, my dear landlord," -replied Franz. -"And you say that Signor Vampa exercises his profession at -this moment in the environs of Rome?" -"And with a boldness of which no bandit before him ever gave -an example." -"Then the police have vainly tried to lay hands on him?" -"Why, you see, he has a good understanding with the -shepherds in the plains, the fishermen of the Tiber, and the -smugglers of the coast. They seek for him in the mountains, -and he is on the waters they follow him on the waters, and -he is on the open sea then they pursue him, and he has -suddenly taken refuge in the islands, at Giglio, Guanouti, -or Monte Cristo and when they hunt for him there, he -reappears suddenly at Albano, Tivoli, or La Riccia." -"And how does he behave towards travellers?" -"Alas his plan is very simple. It depends on the distance -he may be from the city, whether he gives eight hours, -twelve hours, or a day wherein to pay their ransom and when -that time has elapsed he allows another hour's grace. At the -sixtieth minute of this hour, if the money is not -forthcoming, he blows out the prisoner's brains with a -pistolshot, or plants his dagger in his heart, and that -settles the account." -"Well, Albert," inquired Franz of his companion, "are you -still disposed to go to the Colosseum by the outer wall?" -"Quite so," said Albert, "if the way be picturesque." The -clock struck nine as the door opened, and a coachman -appeared. "Excellencies," said he, "the coach is ready." -"Well, then," said Franz, "let us to the Colosseum." -"By the Porta del Popolo or by the streets, your -excellencies?" -"By the streets, morbleu, by the streets" cried Franz. -"Ah, my dear fellow," said Albert, rising, and lighting his -third cigar, "really, I thought you had more courage." So -saying, the two young men went down the staircase, and got -into the carriage. -Chapter -The Colosseum. -Franz had so managed his route, that during the ride to the -Colosseum they passed not a single ancient ruin, so that no -preliminary impression interfered to mitigate the colossal -proportions of the gigantic building they came to admire. -The road selected was a continuation of the Via Sistina -then by cutting off the right angle of the street in which -stands Santa Maria Maggiore and proceeding by the Via Urbana -and San Pietro in Vincoli, the travellers would find -themselves directly opposite the Colosseum. This itinerary -possessed another great advantage, that of leaving Franz -at full liberty to indulge his deep reverie upon the subject -of Signor Pastrini's story, in which his mysterious host of -Monte Cristo was so strangely mixed up. Seated with folded -arms in a corner of the carriage, he continued to ponder -over the singular history he had so lately listened to, and -to ask himself an interminable number of questions touching -its various circumstances without, however, arriving at a -satisfactory reply to any of them. One fact more than the -rest brought his friend "Sinbad the Sailor" back to his -recollection, and that was the mysterious sort of intimacy -that seemed to exist between the brigands and the sailors -and Pastrini's account of Vampa's having found refuge on -board the vessels of smugglers and fishermen, reminded Franz -of the two Corsican bandits he had found supping so amicably -with the crew of the little yacht, which had even deviated -from its course and touched at PortoVecchio for the sole -purpose of landing them. The very name assumed by his host -of Monte Cristo and again repeated by the landlord of the -Hotel de Londres, abundantly proved to him that his island -friend was playing his philanthropic part on the shores of -Piombino, CivitaVecchio, Ostia, and Gaeta, as on those of -Corsica, Tuscany, and Spain and further, Franz bethought -him of having heard his singular entertainer speak both of -Tunis and Palermo, proving thereby how largely his circle of -acquaintances extended. -But however the mind of the young man might be absorbed in -these reflections, they were at once dispersed at the sight -of the dark frowning ruins of the stupendous Colosseum, -through the various openings of which the pale moonlight -played and flickered like the unearthly gleam from the eyes -of the wandering dead. The carriage stopped near the Meta -Sudans the door was opened, and the young men, eagerly -alighting, found themselves opposite a cicerone, who -appeared to have sprung up from the ground, so unexpected -was his appearance. -The usual guide from the hotel having followed them, they -had paid two conductors, nor is it possible, at Rome, to -avoid this abundant supply of guides besides the ordinary -cicerone, who seizes upon you directly you set foot in your -hotel, and never quits you while you remain in the city, -there is also a special cicerone belonging to each monument -nay, almost to each part of a monument. It may, -therefore, be easily imagined there is no scarcity of guides -at the Colosseum, that wonder of all ages, which Martial -thus eulogizes "Let Memphis cease to boast the barbarous -miracles of her pyramids, and the wonders of Babylon be -talked of no more among us all must bow to the superiority -of the gigantic labor of the Caesars, and the many voices of -Fame spread far and wide the surpassing merits of this -incomparable monument." -As for Albert and Franz, they essayed not to escape from -their ciceronian tyrants and, indeed, it would have been so -much the more difficult to break their bondage, as the -guides alone are permitted to visit these monuments with -torches in their hands. Thus, then, the young men made no -attempt at resistance, but blindly and confidingly -surrendered themselves into the care and custody of their -conductors. Albert had already made seven or eight similar -excursions to the Colosseum, while his less favored -companion trod for the first time in his life the classic -ground forming the monument of Flavius Vespasian and, to -his credit be it spoken, his mind, even amid the glib -loquacity of the guides, was duly and deeply touched with -awe and enthusiastic admiration of all he saw and certainly -no adequate notion of these stupendous ruins can be formed -save by such as have visited them, and more especially by -moonlight, at which time the vast proportions of the -building appear twice as large when viewed by the mysterious -beams of a southern moonlit sky, whose rays are sufficiently -clear and vivid to light the horizon with a glow equal to -the soft twilight of an eastern clime. Scarcely, therefore, -had the reflective Franz walked a hundred steps beneath the -interior porticoes of the ruin, than, abandoning Albert to -the guides who would by no means yield their prescriptive -right of carrying their victims through the routine -regularly laid down, and as regularly followed by them, but -dragged the unconscious visitor to the various objects with -a pertinacity that admitted of no appeal, beginning, as a -matter of course, with the Lions' Den, and finishing with -Caesar's "Podium,", to escape a jargon and mechanical -survey of the wonders by which he was surrounded, Franz -ascended a halfdilapidated staircase, and, leaving them to -follow their monotonous round, seated himself at the foot of -a column, and immediately opposite a large aperture, which -permitted him to enjoy a full and undisturbed view of the -gigantic dimensions of the majestic ruin. -Franz had remained for nearly a quarter of an hour perfectly -hidden by the shadow of the vast column at whose base he had -found a restingplace, and from whence his eyes followed the -motions of Albert and his guides, who, holding torches in -their hands, had emerged from a vomitarium at the opposite -extremity of the Colosseum, and then again disappeared down -the steps conducting to the seats reserved for the Vestal -virgins, resembling, as they glided along, some restless -shades following the flickering glare of so many -ignesfatui. All at once his ear caught a sound resembling -that of a stone rolling down the staircase opposite the one -by which he had himself ascended. There was nothing -remarkable in the circumstance of a fragment of granite -giving way and falling heavily below but it seemed to him -that the substance that fell gave way beneath the pressure -of a foot, and also that some one, who endeavored as much as -possible to prevent his footsteps from being heard, was -approaching the spot where he sat. Conjecture soon became -certainty, for the figure of a man was distinctly visible to -Franz, gradually emerging from the staircase opposite, upon -which the moon was at that moment pouring a full tide of -silvery brightness. -The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person -who, like Franz, preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his -own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. And his -appearance had nothing extraordinary in it but the -hesitation with which he proceeded, stopping and listening -with anxious attention at every step he took, convinced -Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. By a sort -of instinctive impulse, Franz withdrew as much as possible -behind his pillar. About ten feet from the spot where he and -the stranger were, the roof had given way, leaving a large -round opening, through which might be seen the blue vault of -heaven, thickly studded with stars. Around this opening, -which had, possibly, for ages permitted a free entrance to -the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile, -grew a quantity of creeping plants, whose delicate green -branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of -the firmament, while large masses of thick, strong fibrous -shoots forced their way through the chasm, and hung floating -to and fro, like so many waving strings. The person whose -mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz -stood in a kind of halflight, that rendered it impossible -to distinguish his features, although his dress was easily -made out. He wore a large brown mantle, one fold of which, -thrown over his left shoulder, served likewise to mask the -lower part of his countenance, while the upper part was -completely hidden by his broadbrimmed hat. The lower part -of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays -of the moon, which, entering through the broken ceiling, -shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made -boots of polished leather, over which descended fashionably -cut trousers of black cloth. -From the imperfect means Franz had of judging, he could only -come to one conclusion, that the person whom he was thus -watching certainly belonged to no inferior station of life. -Some few minutes had elapsed, and the stranger began to show -manifest signs of impatience, when a slight noise was heard -outside the aperture in the roof, and almost immediately a -dark shadow seemed to obstruct the flood of light that had -entered it, and the figure of a man was clearly seen gazing -with eager scrutiny on the immense space beneath him then, -as his eye caught sight of him in the mantle, he grasped a -floating mass of thickly matted boughs, and glided down by -their help to within three or four feet of the ground, and -then leaped lightly on his feet. The man who had performed -this daring act with so much indifference wore the -Transtevere costume. "I beg your excellency's pardon for -keeping you waiting," said the man, in the Roman dialect, -"but I don't think I'm many minutes after my time, ten -o'clock his just struck on the Lateran." -"Say not a word about being late," replied the stranger in -purest Tuscan "'tis I who am too soon. But even if you had -caused me to wait a little while, I should have felt quite -sure that the delay was not occasioned by any fault of -yours." -"Your excellency is perfectly right in so thinking," said -the man "I came here direct from the Castle of St. Angelo, -and I had an immense deal of trouble before I could get a -chance to speak to Beppo." -"And who is Beppo?" -"Oh, Beppo is employed in the prison, and I give him so much -a year to let me know what is going on within his holiness's -castle." -"Indeed You are a provident person, I see." -"Why, you see, no one knows what may happen. Perhaps some of -these days I may be entrapped, like poor Peppino and may be -very glad to have some little nibbling mouse to gnaw the -meshes of my net, and so help me out of prison." -"Briefly, what did you glean?" -"That two executions of considerable interest will take -place the day after tomorrow at two o'clock, as is -customary at Rome at the commencement of all great -festivals. One of the culprits will be mazzolato he is an -atrocious villain, who murdered the priest who brought him -up, and deserves not the smallest pity. The other sufferer -is sentenced to be decapitato and he, your excellency, is -poor Peppino." - Knocked on the head. - Beheaded. -"The fact is, that you have inspired not only the pontifical -government, but also the neighboring states, with such -extreme fear, that they are glad of all opportunity of -making an example." -"But Peppino did not even belong to my band he was merely a -poor shepherd, whose only crime consisted in furnishing us -with provisions." -"Which makes him your accomplice to all intents and -purposes. But mark the distinction with which he is treated -instead of being knocked on the head as you would be if once -they caught hold of you, he is simply sentenced to be -guillotined, by which means, too, the amusements of the day -are diversified, and there is a spectacle to please every -spectator." -"Without reckoning the wholly unexpected one I am preparing -to surprise them with." -"My good friend," said the man in the cloak, "excuse me for -saying that you seem to me precisely in the mood to commit -some wild or extravagant act." -"Perhaps I am but one thing I have resolved on, and that -is, to stop at nothing to restore a poor devil to liberty, -who has got into this scrape solely from having served me. I -should hate and despise myself as a coward did I desert the -brave fellow in his present extremity." -"And what do you mean to do?" -"To surround the scaffold with twenty of my best men, who, -at a signal from me, will rush forward directly Peppino is -brought for execution, and, by the assistance of their -stilettos, drive back the guard, and carry off the -prisoner." -"That seems to me as hazardous as uncertain, and convinces -me that my scheme is far better than yours." -"And what is your excellency's project?" -"Just this. I will so advantageously bestow , piastres, -that the person receiving them shall obtain a respite till -next year for Peppino and during that year, another -skilfully placed , piastres will afford him the means of -escaping from his prison." -"And do you feel sure of succeeding?" -"Pardieu" exclaimed the man in the cloak, suddenly -expressing himself in French. -"What did your excellency say?" inquired the other. -"I said, my good fellow, that I would do more singlehanded -by the means of gold than you and all your troop could -effect with stilettos, pistols, carbines, and blunderbusses -included. Leave me, then, to act, and have no fears for the -result." -"At least, there can be no harm in myself and party being in -readiness, in case your excellency should fail." -"None whatever. Take what precautions you please, if it is -any satisfaction to you to do so but rely upon my obtaining -the reprieve I seek." -"Remember, the execution is fixed for the day after -tomorrow, and that you have but one day to work in." -"And what of that? Is not a day divided into twentyfour -hours, each hour into sixty minutes, and every minute -subdivided into sixty seconds? Now in , seconds very -many things can be done." -"And how shall I know whether your excellency has succeeded -or not." -"Oh, that is very easily arranged. I have engaged the three -lower windows at the Cafe Rospoli should I have obtained -the requisite pardon for Peppino, the two outside windows -will be hung with yellow damasks, and the centre with white, -having a large cross in red marked on it." -"And whom will you employ to carry the reprieve to the -officer directing the execution?" -"Send one of your men, disguised as a penitent friar, and I -will give it to him. His dress will procure him the means of -approaching the scaffold itself, and he will deliver the -official order to the officer, who, in his turn, will hand -it to the executioner in the meantime, it will be as well -to acquaint Peppino with what we have determined on, if it -be only to prevent his dying of fear or losing his senses, -because in either case a very useless expense will have been -incurred." -"Your excellency," said the man, "you are fully persuaded of -my entire devotion to you, are you not?" -"Nay, I flatter myself that there can be no doubt of it," -replied the cavalier in the cloak. -"Well, then, only fulfil your promise of rescuing Peppino, -and henceforward you shall receive not only devotion, but -the most absolute obedience from myself and those under me -that one human being can render to another." -"Have a care how far you pledge yourself, my good friend, -for I may remind you of your promise at some, perhaps, not -very distant period, when I, in my turn, may require your -aid and influence." -"Let that day come sooner or later, your excellency will -find me what I have found you in this my heavy trouble and -if from the other end of the world you but write me word to -do such or such a thing, you may regard it as done, for done -it shall be, on the word and faith of" -"Hush" interrupted the stranger "I hear a noise." -"'Tis some travellers, who are visiting the Colosseum by -torchlight." -"'Twere better we should not be seen together those guides -are nothing but spies, and might possibly recognize you -and, however I may be honored by your friendship, my worthy -friend, if once the extent of our intimacy were known, I am -sadly afraid both my reputation and credit would suffer -thereby." -"Well, then, if you obtain the reprieve?" -"The middle window at the Cafe Rospoli will be hung with -white damask, bearing a red cross." -"And if you fail?" -"Then all three windows will have yellow draperies." -"And then?" -"And then, my good fellow, use your daggers in any way you -please, and I further promise you to be there as a spectator -of your prowess." -"We understand each other perfectly, then. Adieu, your -excellency depend upon me as firmly as I do upon you." -Saying these words, the Transteverin disappeared down the -staircase, while his companion, muffling his features more -closely than before in the folds of his mantle, passed -almost close to Franz, and descended to the arena by an -outward flight of steps. The next minute Franz heard himself -called by Albert, who made the lofty building reecho with -the sound of his friend's name. Franz, however, did not obey -the summons till he had satisfied himself that the two men -whose conversation he had overheard were at a sufficient -distance to prevent his encountering them in his descent. In -ten minutes after the strangers had departed, Franz was on -the road to the Piazza de Spagni, listening with studied -indifference to the learned dissertation delivered by -Albert, after the manner of Pliny and Calpurnius, touching -the ironpointed nets used to prevent the ferocious beasts -from springing on the spectators. Franz let him proceed -without interruption, and, in fact, did not hear what was -said he longed to be alone, and free to ponder over all -that had occurred. One of the two men, whose mysterious -meeting in the Colosseum he had so unintentionally -witnessed, was an entire stranger to him, but not so the -other and though Franz had been unable to distinguish his -features, from his being either wrapped in his mantle or -obscured by the shadow, the tones of his voice had made too -powerful an impression on him the first time he had heard -them for him ever again to forget them, hear them when or -where he might. It was more especially when this man was -speaking in a manner half jesting, half bitter, that Franz's -ear recalled most vividly the deep sonorous, yet -wellpitched voice that had addressed him in the grotto of -Monte Cristo, and which he heard for the second time amid -the darkness and ruined grandeur of the Colosseum. And the -more he thought, the more entire was his conviction, that -the person who wore the mantle was no other than his former -host and entertainer, "Sinbad the Sailor." -Under any other circumstances, Franz would have found it -impossible to resist his extreme curiosity to know more of -so singular a personage, and with that intent have sought to -renew their short acquaintance but in the present instance, -the confidential nature of the conversation he had overheard -made him, with propriety, judge that his appearance at such -a time would be anything but agreeable. As we have seen, -therefore, he permitted his former host to retire without -attempting a recognition, but fully promising himself a rich -indemnity for his present forbearance should chance afford -him another opportunity. In vain did Franz endeavor to -forget the many perplexing thoughts which assailed him in -vain did he court the refreshment of sleep. Slumber refused -to visit his eyelids and the night was passed in feverish -contemplation of the chain of circumstances tending to prove -the identity of the mysterious visitant to the Colosseum -with the inhabitant of the grotto of Monte Cristo and the -more he thought, the firmer grew his opinion on the subject. -Worn out at length, he fell asleep at daybreak, and did not -awake till late. Like a genuine Frenchman, Albert had -employed his time in arranging for the evening's diversion -he had sent to engage a box at the Teatro Argentino and -Franz, having a number of letters to write, relinquished the -carriage to Albert for the whole of the day. At five o'clock -Albert returned, delighted with his day's work he had been -occupied in leaving his letters of introduction, and had -received in return more invitations to balls and routs than -it would be possible for him to accept besides this, he had -seen as he called it all the remarkable sights at Rome. -Yes, in a single day he had accomplished what his more -seriousminded companion would have taken weeks to effect. -Neither had he neglected to ascertain the name of the piece -to be played that night at the Teatro Argentino, and also -what performers appeared in it. -The opera of "Parisina" was announced for representation, -and the principal actors were Coselli, Moriani, and La -Specchia. The young men, therefore, had reason to consider -themselves fortunate in having the opportunity of hearing -one of the best works by the composer of "Lucia di -Lammermoor," supported by three of the most renowned -vocalists of Italy. Albert had never been able to endure the -Italian theatres, with their orchestras from which it is -impossible to see, and the absence of balconies, or open -boxes all these defects pressed hard on a man who had had -his stall at the Bouffes, and had shared a lower box at the -Opera. Still, in spite of this, Albert displayed his most -dazzling and effective costumes each time he visited the -theatres but, alas, his elegant toilet was wholly thrown -away, and one of the most worthy representatives of Parisian -fashion had to carry with him the mortifying reflection that -he had nearly overrun Italy without meeting with a single -adventure. -Sometimes Albert would affect to make a joke of his want of -success but internally he was deeply wounded, and his -selflove immensely piqued, to think that Albert de Morcerf, -the most admired and most sought after of any young person -of his day, should thus be passed over, and merely have his -labor for his pains. And the thing was so much the more -annoying, as, according to the characteristic modesty of a -Frenchman, Albert had quitted Paris with the full conviction -that he had only to show himself in Italy to carry all -before him, and that upon his return he should astonish the -Parisian world with the recital of his numerous -loveaffairs. Alas, poor Albert none of those interesting -adventures fell in his way the lovely Genoese, Florentines, -and Neapolitans were all faithful, if not to their husbands, -at least to their lovers, and thought not of changing even -for the splendid appearance of Albert de Morcerf and all he -gained was the painful conviction that the ladies of Italy -have this advantage over those of France, that they are -faithful even in their infidelity. Yet he could not restrain -a hope that in Italy, as elsewhere, there might be an -exception to the general rule. Albert, besides being an -elegant, welllooking young man, was also possessed of -considerable talent and ability moreover, he was a viscount -a recently created one, certainly, but in the present day -it is not necessary to go as far back as Noah in tracing a -descent, and a genealogical tree is equally estimated, -whether dated from or merely but to crown all -these advantages, Albert de Morcerf commanded an income of -, livres, a more than sufficient sum to render him a -personage of considerable importance in Paris. It was -therefore no small mortification to him to have visited most -of the principal cities in Italy without having excited the -most trifling observation. Albert, however, hoped to -indemnify himself for all these slights and indifferences -during the Carnival, knowing full well that among the -different states and kingdoms in which this festivity is -celebrated, Rome is the spot where even the wisest and -gravest throw off the usual rigidity of their lives, and -deign to mingle in the follies of this time of liberty and -relaxation. -The Carnival was to commence on the morrow therefore Albert -had not an instant to lose in setting forth the programme of -his hopes, expectations, and claims to notice. With this -design he had engaged a box in the most conspicuous part of -the theatre, and exerted himself to set off his personal -attractions by the aid of the most rich and elaborate -toilet. The box taken by Albert was in the first circle -although each of the three tiers of boxes is deemed equally -aristocratic, and is, for this reason, generally styled the -"nobility's boxes," and although the box engaged for the two -friends was sufficiently capacious to contain at least a -dozen persons, it had cost less than would be paid at some -of the French theatres for one admitting merely four -occupants. Another motive had influenced Albert's selection -of his seat, who knew but that, thus advantageously -placed, he might not in truth attract the notice of some -fair Roman, and an introduction might ensue that would -procure him the offer of a seat in a carriage, or a place in -a princely balcony, from which he might behold the gayeties -of the Carnival? These united considerations made Albert -more lively and anxious to please than he had hitherto been. -Totally disregarding the business of the stage, he leaned -from his box and began attentively scrutinizing the beauty -of each pretty woman, aided by a powerful operaglass but, -alas, this attempt to attract notice wholly failed not even -curiosity had been excited, and it was but too apparent that -the lovely creatures, into whose good graces he was desirous -of stealing, were all so much engrossed with themselves, -their lovers, or their own thoughts, that they had not so -much as noticed him or the manipulation of his glass. -The truth was, that the anticipated pleasures of the -Carnival, with the "holy week" that was to succeed it, so -filled every fair breast, as to prevent the least attention -being bestowed even on the business of the stage. The actors -made their entries and exits unobserved or unthought of at -certain conventional moments, the spectators would suddenly -cease their conversation, or rouse themselves from their -musings, to listen to some brilliant effort of Moriani's, a -wellexecuted recitative by Coselli, or to join in loud -applause at the wonderful powers of La Specchia but that -momentary excitement over, they quickly relapsed into their -former state of preoccupation or interesting conversation. -Towards the close of the first act, the door of a box which -had been hitherto vacant was opened a lady entered to whom -Franz had been introduced in Paris, where indeed, he had -imagined she still was. The quick eye of Albert caught the -involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new -arrival, and, turning to him, he said hastily, "Do you know -the woman who has just entered that box?" -"Yes what do you think of her?" -"Oh, she is perfectly lovely what a complexion And such -magnificent hair Is she French?" -"No a Venetian." -"And her name is " -"Countess G ." -"Ah, I know her by name" exclaimed Albert "she is said to -possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. I was to have -been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort's -ball." -"Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?" asked -Franz. -"My dear fellow, are you really on such good terms with her -as to venture to take me to her box?" -"Why, I have only had the honor of being in her society and -conversing with her three or four times in my life but you -know that even such an acquaintance as that might warrant my -doing what you ask." At that instant, the countess perceived -Franz, and graciously waved her hand to him, to which he -replied by a respectful inclination of the head. "Upon my -word," said Albert, "you seem to be on excellent terms with -the beautiful countess." -"You are mistaken in thinking so," returned Franz calmly -"but you merely fall into the same error which leads so many -of our countrymen to commit the most egregious blunders, -I mean that of judging the habits and customs of Italy and -Spain by our Parisian notions believe me, nothing is more -fallacious than to form any estimate of the degree of -intimacy you may suppose existing among persons by the -familiar terms they seem upon there is a similarity of -feeling at this instant between ourselves and the countess -nothing more." -"Is there, indeed, my good fellow? Pray tell me, is it -sympathy of heart?" -"No of taste," continued Franz gravely. -"And in what manner has this congeniality of mind been -evinced?" -"By the countess's visiting the Colosseum, as we did last -night, by moonlight, and nearly alone." -"You were with her, then?" -"I was." -"And what did you say to her?" -"Oh, we talked of the illustrious dead of whom that -magnificent ruin is a glorious monument" -"Upon my word," cried Albert, "you must have been a very -entertaining companion alone, or all but alone, with a -beautiful woman in such a place of sentiment as the -Colosseum, and yet to find nothing better a talk about than -the dead All I can say is, if ever I should get such a -chance, the living should be my theme." -"And you will probably find your theme illchosen." -"But," said Albert, breaking in upon his discourse, "never -mind the past let us only remember the present. Are you not -going to keep your promise of introducing me to the fair -subject of our remarks?" -"Certainly, directly the curtain falls on the stage." -"What a confounded time this first act takes. I believe, on -my soul, that they never mean to finish it." -"Oh, yes, they will only listen to that charming finale. -How exquisitely Coselli sings his part." -"But what an awkward, inelegant fellow he is." -"Well, then, what do you say to La Specchia? Did you ever -see anything more perfect than her acting?" -"Why, you know, my dear fellow, when one has been accustomed -to Malibran and Sontag, such singers as these don't make the -same impression on you they perhaps do on others." -"At least, you must admire Moriani's style and execution." -"I never fancied men of his dark, ponderous appearance -singing with a voice like a woman's." -"My good friend," said Franz, turning to him, while Albert -continued to point his glass at every box in the theatre, -"you seem determined not to approve you are really too -difficult to please." The curtain at length fell on the -performances, to the infinite satisfaction of the Viscount -of Morcerf, who seized his hat, rapidly passed his fingers -through his hair, arranged his cravat and wristbands, and -signified to Franz that he was waiting for him to lead the -way. Franz, who had mutely interrogated the countess, and -received from her a gracious smile in token that he would be -welcome, sought not to retard the gratification of Albert's -eager impatience, but began at once the tour of the house, -closely followed by Albert, who availed himself of the few -minutes required to reach the opposite side of the theatre -to settle the height and smoothness of his collar, and to -arrange the lappets of his coat. This important task was -just completed as they arrived at the countess's box. At the -knock, the door was immediately opened, and the young man -who was seated beside the countess, in obedience to the -Italian custom, instantly rose and surrendered his place to -the strangers, who, in turn, would be expected to retire -upon the arrival of other visitors. -Franz presented Albert as one of the most distinguished -young men of the day, both as regarded his position in -society and extraordinary talents nor did he say more than -the truth, for in Paris and the circle in which the viscount -moved, he was looked upon and cited as a model of -perfection. Franz added that his companion, deeply grieved -at having been prevented the honor of being presented to the -countess during her sojourn in Paris, was most anxious to -make up for it, and had requested him Franz to remedy the -past misfortune by conducting him to her box, and concluded -by asking pardon for his presumption in having taken it upon -himself to do so. The countess, in reply, bowed gracefully -to Albert, and extended her hand with cordial kindness to -Franz then, inviting Albert to take the vacant seat beside -her, she recommended Franz to take the next best, if he -wished to view the ballet, and pointed to the one behind her -own chair. Albert was soon deeply engrossed in discoursing -upon Paris and Parisian matters, speaking to the countess of -the various persons they both knew there. Franz perceived -how completely he was in his element and, unwilling to -interfere with the pleasure he so evidently felt, took up -Albert's glass, and began in his turn to survey the -audience. Sitting alone, in the front of a box immediately -opposite, but situated on the third row, was a woman of -exquisite beauty, dressed in a Greek costume, which -evidently, from the ease and grace with which she wore it, -was her national attire. Behind her, but in deep shadow, was -the outline of a masculine figure but the features of this -latter personage it was not possible to distinguish. Franz -could not forbear breaking in upon the apparently -interesting conversation passing between the countess and -Albert, to inquire of the former if she knew who was the -fair Albanian opposite, since beauty such as hers was well -worthy of being observed by either sex. "All I can tell -about her," replied the countess, "is, that she has been at -Rome since the beginning of the season for I saw her where -she now sits the very first night of the season, and since -then she has never missed a performance. Sometimes she is -accompanied by the person who is now with her, and at others -she is merely attended by a black servant." -"And what do you think of her personal appearance?" -"Oh, I consider her perfectly lovely she is just my idea -of what Medora must have been." -Franz and the countess exchanged a smile, and then the -latter resumed her conversation with Albert, while Franz -returned to his previous survey of the house and company. -The curtain rose on the ballet, which was one of those -excellent specimens of the Italian school, admirably -arranged and put on the stage by Henri, who has established -for himself a great reputation throughout Italy for his -taste and skill in the choreographic art one of those -masterly productions of grace, method, and elegance in which -the whole corps de ballet, from the principal dancers to the -humblest supernumerary, are all engaged on the stage at the -same time and a hundred and fifty persons may be seen -exhibiting the same attitude, or elevating the same arm or -leg with a simultaneous movement, that would lead you to -suppose that but one mind, one act of volition, influenced -the moving mass the ballet was called "Poliska." However -much the ballet might have claimed his attention, Franz was -too deeply occupied with the beautiful Greek to take any -note of it while she seemed to experience an almost -childlike delight in watching it, her eager, animated looks -contrasting strongly with the utter indifference of her -companion, who, during the whole time the piece lasted, -never even moved, not even when the furious, crashing din -produced by the trumpets, cymbals, and Chinese bells sounded -their loudest from the orchestra. Of this he took no heed, -but was, as far as appearances might be trusted, enjoying -soft repose and bright celestial dreams. The ballet at -length came to a close, and the curtain fell amid the loud, -unanimous plaudits of an enthusiastic and delighted -audience. -Owing to the very judicious plan of dividing the two acts of -the opera with a ballet, the pauses between the performances -are very short, the singers in the opera having time to -repose themselves and change their costume, when necessary, -while the dancers are executing their pirouettes and -exhibiting their graceful steps. The overture to the second -act began and, at the first sound of the leader's bow -across his violin, Franz observed the sleeper slowly arise -and approach the Greek girl, who turned around to say a few -words to him, and then, leaning forward again on the railing -of her box, she became as absorbed as before in what was -going on. The countenance of the person who had addressed -her remained so completely in the shade, that, though Franz -tried his utmost, he could not distinguish a single feature. -The curtain rose, and the attention of Franz was attracted -by the actors and his eyes turned from the box containing -the Greek girl and her strange companion to watch the -business of the stage. -Most of my readers are aware that the second act of -"Parisina" opens with the celebrated and effective duet in -which Parisina, while sleeping, betrays to Azzo the secret -of her love for Ugo. The injured husband goes through all -the emotions of jealousy, until conviction seizes on his -mind, and then, in a frenzy of rage and indignation, he -awakens his guilty wife to tell her that he knows her guilt -and to threaten her with his vengeance. This duet is one of -the most beautiful, expressive and terrible conceptions that -has ever emanated from the fruitful pen of Donizetti. Franz -now listened to it for the third time yet its notes, so -tenderly expressive and fearfully grand as the wretched -husband and wife give vent to their different griefs and -passions, thrilled through the soul of Franz with an effect -equal to his first emotions upon hearing it. Excited beyond -his usual calm demeanor, Franz rose with the audience, and -was about to join the loud, enthusiastic applause that -followed but suddenly his purpose was arrested, his hands -fell by his sides, and the halfuttered "bravos" expired on -his lips. The occupant of the box in which the Greek girl -sat appeared to share the universal admiration that -prevailed for he left his seat to stand up in front, so -that, his countenance being fully revealed, Franz had no -difficulty in recognizing him as the mysterious inhabitant -of Monte Cristo, and the very same person he had encountered -the preceding evening in the ruins of the Colosseum, and -whose voice and figure had seemed so familiar to him. All -doubt of his identity was now at an end his singular host -evidently resided at Rome. The surprise and agitation -occasioned by this full confirmation of Franz's former -suspicion had no doubt imparted a corresponding expression -to his features for the countess, after gazing with a -puzzled look at his face, burst into a fit of laughter, and -begged to know what had happened. "Countess," returned -Franz, totally unheeding her raillery, "I asked you a short -time since if you knew any particulars respecting the -Albanian lady opposite I must now beseech you to inform me -who and what is her husband?" -"Nay," answered the countess, "I know no more of him than -yourself." -"Perhaps you never before noticed him?" -"What a question so truly French Do you not know that we -Italians have eyes only for the man we love?" -"True," replied Franz. -"All I can say is," continued the countess, taking up the -lorgnette, and directing it toward the box in question, -"that the gentleman, whose history I am unable to furnish, -seems to me as though he had just been dug up he looks more -like a corpse permitted by some friendly gravedigger to -quit his tomb for a while, and revisit this earth of ours, -than anything human. How ghastly pale he is" -"Oh, he is always as colorless as you now see him," said -Franz. -"Then you know him?" almost screamed the countess. "Oh, pray -do, for heaven's sake, tell us all about is he a vampire, -or a resuscitated corpse, or what?" -"I fancy I have seen him before and I even think he -recognizes me." -"And I can well understand," said the countess, shrugging up -her beautiful shoulders, as though an involuntary shudder -passed through her veins, "that those who have once seen -that man will never be likely to forget him." The sensation -experienced by Franz was evidently not peculiar to himself -another, and wholly uninterested person, felt the same -unaccountable awe and misgiving. "Well." inquired Franz, -after the countess had a second time directed her lorgnette -at the box, "what do you think of our opposite neighbor?" -"Why, that he is no other than Lord Ruthven himself in a -living form." This fresh allusion to Byron drew a smile to -Franz's countenance although he could but allow that if -anything was likely to induce belief in the existence of -vampires, it would be the presence of such a man as the -mysterious personage before him. -"I must positively find out who and what he is," said Franz, -rising from his seat. -"No, no," cried the countess "you must not leave me. I -depend upon you to escort me home. Oh, indeed, I cannot -permit you to go." - Scott, of course "The son of an illfated sire, and the -father of a yet more unfortunate family, bore in his looks -that cast of inauspicious melancholy by which the -physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish those -who were predestined to a violent and unhappy death." The -Abbot, ch. xxii. -"Is it possible," whispered Franz, "that you entertain any -fear?" -"I'll tell you," answered the countess. "Byron had the most -perfect belief in the existence of vampires, and even -assured me that he had seen them. The description he gave me -perfectly corresponds with the features and character of the -man before us. Oh, he is the exact personification of what I -have been led to expect The coalblack hair, large bright, -glittering eyes, in which a wild, unearthly fire seems -burning, the same ghastly paleness. Then observe, too, -that the woman with him is altogether unlike all others of -her sex. She is a foreigner a stranger. Nobody knows who -she is, or where she comes from. No doubt she belongs to the -same horrible race he does, and is, like himself, a dealer -in magical arts. I entreat of you not to go near him at -least tonight and if tomorrow your curiosity still -continues as great, pursue your researches if you will but -tonight you neither can nor shall. For that purpose I mean -to keep you all to myself." Franz protested he could not -defer his pursuit till the following day, for many reasons. -"Listen to me," said the countess, "and do not be so very -headstrong. I am going home. I have a party at my house -tonight, and therefore cannot possibly remain till the end -of the opera. Now, I cannot for one instant believe you so -devoid of gallantry as to refuse a lady your escort when she -even condescends to ask you for it." -There was nothing else left for Franz to do but to take up -his hat, open the door of the box, and offer the countess -his arm. It was quite evident, by her manner, that her -uneasiness was not feigned and Franz himself could not -resist a feeling of superstitious dread so much the -stronger in him, as it arose from a variety of corroborative -recollections, while the terror of the countess sprang from -an instinctive belief, originally created in her mind by the -wild tales she had listened to till she believed them -truths. Franz could even feel her arm tremble as he assisted -her into the carriage. Upon arriving at her hotel, Franz -perceived that she had deceived him when she spoke of -expecting company on the contrary, her own return before -the appointed hour seemed greatly to astonish the servants. -"Excuse my little subterfuge," said the countess, in reply -to her companion's halfreproachful observation on the -subject "but that horrid man had made me feel quite -uncomfortable, and I longed to be alone, that I might -compose my startled mind." Franz essayed to smile. "Nay," -said she, "do not smile it ill accords with the expression -of your countenance, and I am sure it does not spring from -your heart. However, promise me one thing." -"What is it?" -"Promise me, I say." -"I will do anything you desire, except relinquish my -determination of finding out who this man is. I have more -reasons than you can imagine for desiring to know who he is, -from whence he came, and whither he is going." -"Where he comes from I am ignorant but I can readily tell -you where he is going to, and that is down below, without -the least doubt." -"Let us only speak of the promise you wished me to make," -said Franz. -"Well, then, you must give me your word to return -immediately to your hotel, and make no attempt to follow -this man tonight. There are certain affinities between the -persons we quit and those we meet afterwards. For heaven's -sake, do not serve as a conductor between that man and me. -Pursue your chase after him tomorrow as eagerly as you -please but never bring him near me, if you would not see me -die of terror. And now, goodnight go to your rooms, and -try to sleep away all recollections of this evening. For my -own part, I am quite sure I shall not be able to close my -eyes." So saying, the countess quitted Franz, leaving him -unable to decide whether she were merely amusing herself at -his expense, or whether her fears and agitations were -genuine. -Upon his return to the hotel, Franz found Albert in his -dressinggown and slippers, listlessly extended on a sofa, -smoking a cigar. "My dear fellow." cried he, springing up, -"is it really you? Why, I did not expect to see you before -tomorrow." -"My dear Albert," replied Franz, "I am glad of this -opportunity to tell you, once and forever, that you -entertain a most erroneous notion concerning Italian women. -I should have thought the continual failures you have met -with in all your own love affairs might have taught you -better by this time." -"Upon my soul, these women would puzzle the very Devil to -read them aright. Why, here they give you their hand -they press yours in return they keep up a whispering -conversation permit you to accompany them home. Why, if a -Parisian were to indulge in a quarter of these marks of -flattering attention, her reputation would be gone forever." -"And the very reason why the women of this fine country put -so little restraint on their words and actions, is because -they live so much in public, and have really nothing to -conceal. Besides, you must have perceived that the countess -was really alarmed." -"At what? At the sight of that respectable gentleman sitting -opposite to us in the same box with the lovely Greek girl? -Now, for my part, I met them in the lobby after the -conclusion of the piece and hang me, if I can guess where -you took your notions of the other world from. I can assure -you that this hobgoblin of yours is a deuced finelooking -fellow admirably dressed. Indeed, I feel quite sure, from -the cut of his clothes, they are made by a firstrate Paris -tailor probably Blin or Humann. He was rather too pale, -certainly but then, you know, paleness is always looked -upon as a strong proof of aristocratic descent and -distinguished breeding." Franz smiled for he well -remembered that Albert particularly prided himself on the -entire absence of color in his own complexion. -"Well, that tends to confirm my own ideas," said Franz, -"that the countess's suspicions were destitute alike of -sense and reason. Did he speak in your hearing? and did you -catch any of his words?" -"I did but they were uttered in the Romaic dialect. I knew -that from the mixture of Greek words. I don't know whether I -ever told you that when I was at college I was rather -rather strong in Greek." -"He spoke the Romaic language, did he?" -"I think so." -"That settles it," murmured Franz. "'Tis he, past all -doubt." -"What do you say?" -"Nothing, nothing. But tell me, what were you thinking about -when I came in?" -"Oh, I was arranging a little surprise for you." -"Indeed. Of what nature?" -"Why, you know it is quite impossible to procure a -carriage." -"Certainly and I also know that we have done all that human -means afforded to endeavor to get one." -"Now, then, in this difficulty a bright idea has flashed -across my brain." Franz looked at Albert as though he had -not much confidence in the suggestions of his imagination. -"I tell you what, Sir Franz," cried Albert, "you deserve to -be called out for such a misgiving and incredulous glance as -that you were pleased to bestow on me just now." -"And I promise to give you the satisfaction of a gentleman -if your scheme turns out as ingenious as you assert." -"Well, then, hearken to me." -"I listen." -"You agree, do you not, that obtaining a carriage is out of -the question?" -"I do." -"Neither can we procure horses?" -"True we have offered any sum, but have failed." -"Well, now, what do you say to a cart? I dare say such a -thing might be had." -"Very possibly." -"And a pair of oxen?" -"As easily found as the cart." -"Then you see, my good fellow, with a cart and a couple of -oxen our business can be managed. The cart must be -tastefully ornamented and if you and I dress ourselves as -Neapolitan reapers, we may get up a striking tableau, after -the manner of that splendid picture by Leopold Robert. It -would add greatly to the effect if the countess would join -us in the costume of a peasant from Puzzoli or Sorrento. Our -group would then be quite complete, more especially as the -countess is quite beautiful enough to represent a madonna." -"Well," said Franz, "this time, Albert, I am bound to give -you credit for having hit upon a most capital idea." -"And quite a national one, too," replied Albert with -gratified pride. "A mere masque borrowed from our own -festivities. Ha, ha, ye Romans you thought to make us, -unhappy strangers, trot at the heels of your processions, -like so many lazzaroni, because no carriages or horses are -to be had in your beggarly city. But you don't know us when -we can't have one thing we invent another." -"And have you communicated your triumphant idea to anybody?" -"Only to our host. Upon my return home I sent for him, and I -then explained to him what I wished to procure. He assured -me that nothing would be easier than to furnish all I -desired. One thing I was sorry for when I bade him have the -horns of the oxen gilded, he told me there would not be -time, as it would require three days to do that so you see -we must do without this little superfluity." -"And where is he now?" -"Who?" -"Our host." -"Gone out in search of our equipage, by tomorrow it might -be too late." -"Then he will be able to give us an answer tonight." -"Oh, I expect him every minute." At this instant the door -opened, and the head of Signor Pastrini appeared. -"Permesso?" inquired he. -"Certainly certainly," cried Franz. "Come in, mine host." -"Now, then," asked Albert eagerly, "have you found the -desired cart and oxen?" -"Better than that" replied Signor Pastrini, with the air of -a man perfectly well satisfied with himself. -"Take care, my worthy host," said Albert, "better is a sure -enemy to well." -"Let your excellencies only leave the matter to me," -returned Signor Pastrini in a tone indicative of unbounded -selfconfidence. -"But what have you done?" asked Franz. "Speak out, there's a -worthy fellow." -"Your excellencies are aware," responded the landlord, -swelling with importance, "that the Count of Monte Cristo is -living on the same floor with yourselves" -"I should think we did know it," exclaimed Albert, "since it -is owing to that circumstance that we are packed into these -small rooms, like two poor students in the back streets of -Paris." -"When, then, the Count of Monte Cristo, hearing of the -dilemma in which you are placed, has sent to offer you seats -in his carriage and two places at his windows in the Palazzo -Rospoli." The friends looked at each other with unutterable -surprise. -"But do you think," asked Albert, "that we ought to accept -such offers from a perfect stranger?" -"What sort of person is this Count of Monte Cristo?" asked -Franz of his host. "A very great nobleman, but whether -Maltese or Sicilian I cannot exactly say but this I know, -that he is noble as a Borghese and rich as a goldmine." -"It seems to me," said Franz, speaking in an undertone to -Albert, "that if this person merited the high panegyrics of -our landlord, he would have conveyed his invitation through -another channel, and not permitted it to be brought to us in -this unceremonious way. He would have written or" -At this instant some one knocked at the door. "Come in," -said Franz. A servant, wearing a livery of considerable -style and richness, appeared at the threshold, and, placing -two cards in the landlord's hands, who forthwith presented -them to the two young men, he said, "Please to deliver -these, from the Count of Monte Cristo to Viscomte Albert de -Morcerf and M. Franz d'Epinay. The Count of Monte Cristo," -continued the servant, "begs these gentlemen's permission to -wait upon them as their neighbor, and he will be honored by -an intimation of what time they will please to receive him." -"Faith, Franz," whispered Albert, "there is not much to find -fault with here." -"Tell the count," replied Franz, "that we will do ourselves -the pleasure of calling on him." The servant bowed and -retired. -"That is what I call an elegant mode of attack," said -Albert, "You were quite correct in what you said, Signor -Pastrini. The Count of Monte Cristo is unquestionably a man -of firstrate breeding and knowledge of the world." -"Then you accept his offer?" said the host. -"Of course we do," replied Albert. "Still, I must own I am -sorry to be obliged to give up the cart and the group of -reapers it would have produced such an effect And were -it not for the windows at the Palazzo Rospoli, by way of -recompense for the loss of our beautiful scheme, I don't -know but what I should have held on by my original plan. -What say you, Franz?" -"Oh, I agree with you the windows in the Palazzo Rospoli -alone decided me." The truth was, that the mention of two -places in the Palazzo Rospoli had recalled to Franz the -conversation he had overheard the preceding evening in the -ruins of the Colosseum between the mysterious unknown and -the Transteverin, in which the stranger in the cloak had -undertaken to obtain the freedom of a condemned criminal -and if this muffledup individual proved as Franz felt sure -he would the same as the person he had just seen in the -Teatro Argentino, then he should be able to establish his -identity, and also to prosecute his researches respecting -him with perfect facility and freedom. Franz passed the -night in confused dreams respecting the two meetings he had -already had with his mysterious tormentor, and in waking -speculations as to what the morrow would produce. The next -day must clear up every doubt and unless his near neighbor -and wouldbe friend, the Count of Monte Cristo, possessed -the ring of Gyges, and by its power was able to render -himself invisible, it was very certain he could not escape -this time. Eight o'clock found Franz up and dressed, while -Albert, who had not the same motives for early rising, was -still soundly asleep. The first act of Franz was to summon -his landlord, who presented himself with his accustomed -obsequiousness. -"Pray, Signor Pastrini," asked Franz, "is not some execution -appointed to take place today?" -"Yes, your excellency but if your reason for inquiry is -that you may procure a window to view it from, you are much -too late." -"Oh, no," answered Franz, "I had no such intention and even -if I had felt a wish to witness the spectacle, I might have -done so from Monte Pincio could I not?" -"Ah" exclaimed mine host, "I did not think it likely your -excellency would have chosen to mingle with such a rabble as -are always collected on that hill, which, indeed, they -consider as exclusively belonging to themselves." -"Very possibly I may not go," answered Franz "but in case I -feel disposed, give me some particulars of today's -executions." -"What particulars would your excellency like to hear?" -"Why, the number of persons condemned to suffer, their -names, and description of the death they are to die." -"That happens just lucky, your excellency Only a few -minutes ago they brought me the tavolettas." -"What are they?" -"Sort of wooden tablets hung up at the corners of streets -the evening before an execution, on which is pasted up a -paper containing the names of the condemned persons, their -crimes, and mode of punishment. The reason for so publicly -announcing all this is, that all good and faithful Catholics -may offer up their prayers for the unfortunate culprits, -and, above all, beseech of heaven to grant them a sincere -repentance." -"And these tablets are brought to you that you may add your -prayers to those of the faithful, are they?" asked Franz -somewhat incredulously. -"Oh, dear, no, your excellency I have not time for -anybody's affairs but my own and those of my honorable -guests but I make an agreement with the man who pastes up -the papers, and he brings them to me as he would the -playbills, that in case any person staying at my hotel -should like to witness an execution, he may obtain every -requisite information concerning the time and place etc." -"Upon my word, that is a most delicate attention on your -part, Signor Pastrini," cried Franz. -"Why, your excellency," returned the landlord, chuckling and -rubbing his hands with infinite complacency, "I think I may -take upon myself to say I neglect nothing to deserve the -support and patronage of the noble visitors to this poor -hotel." -"I see that plainly enough, my most excellent host, and you -may rely upon me to proclaim so striking a proof of your -attention to your guests wherever I go. Meanwhile, oblige me -by a sight of one of these tavolettas." -"Nothing can be easier than to comply with your excellency's -wish," said the landlord, opening the door of the chamber -"I have caused one to be placed on the landing, close by -your apartment." Then, taking the tablet from the wall, he -handed it to Franz, who read as follows -""The public is informed that on Wednesday, February d, -being the first day of the Carnival, executions will take -place in the Piazza del Popolo, by order of the Tribunal of -the Rota, of two persons, named Andrea Rondola, and Peppino, -otherwise called Rocca Priori the former found guilty of -the murder of a venerable and exemplary priest, named Don -Cesare Torlini, canon of the church of St. John Lateran and -the latter convicted of being an accomplice of the atrocious -and sanguinary bandit, Luigi Vampa, and his band. The -firstnamed malefactor will be subjected to the mazzuola, -the second culprit beheaded. The prayers of all good -Christians are entreated for these unfortunate men, that it -may please God to awaken them to a sense of their guilt, and -to grant them a hearty and sincere repentance for their -crimes.'" -This was precisely what Franz had heard the evening before -in the ruins of the Colosseum. No part of the programme -differed, the names of the condemned persons, their -crimes, and mode of punishment, all agreed with his previous -information. In all probability, therefore, the Transteverin -was no other than the bandit Luigi Vampa himself, and the -man shrouded in the mantle the same he had known as "Sinbad -the Sailor," but who, no doubt, was still pursuing his -philanthropic expedition in Rome, as he had already done at -PortoVecchio and Tunis. Time was getting on, however, and -Franz deemed it advisable to awaken Albert but at the -moment he prepared to proceed to his chamber, his friend -entered the room in perfect costume for the day. The -anticipated delights of the Carnival had so run in his head -as to make him leave his pillow long before his usual hour. -"Now, my excellent Signor Pastrini," said Franz, addressing -his landlord, "since we are both ready, do you think we may -proceed at once to visit the Count of Monte Cristo?" -"Most assuredly," replied he. "The Count of Monte Cristo is -always an early riser and I can answer for his having been -up these two hours." -"Then you really consider we shall not be intruding if we -pay our respects to him directly?" -"Oh, I am quite sure. I will take all the blame on myself if -you find I have led you into an error." -"Well, then, if it be so, are you ready, Albert?" -"Perfectly." -"Let us go and return our best thanks for his courtesy." -"Yes, let us do so." The landlord preceded the friends -across the landing, which was all that separated them from -the apartments of the count, rang at the bell, and, upon the -door being opened by a servant, said, "I signori Francesi." -The domestic bowed respectfully, and invited them to enter. -They passed through two rooms, furnished in a luxurious -manner they had not expected to see under the roof of Signor -Pastrini, and were shown into an elegantly fittedup -drawingroom. The richest Turkey carpets covered the floor, -and the softest and most inviting couches, easychairs, and -sofas, offered their highpiled and yielding cushions to -such as desired repose or refreshment. Splendid paintings by -the first masters were ranged against the walls, -intermingled with magnificent trophies of war, while heavy -curtains of costly tapestry were suspended before the -different doors of the room. "If your excellencies will -please to be seated," said the man, "I will let the count -know that you are here." -And with these words he disappeared behind one of the -tapestried portieres. As the door opened, the sound of a -guzla reached the ears of the young men, but was almost -immediately lost, for the rapid closing of the door merely -allowed one rich swell of harmony to enter. Franz and Albert -looked inquiringly at each other, then at the gorgeous -furnishings of the apartment. Everything seemed more -magnificent at a second view than it had done at their first -rapid survey. -"Well," said Franz to his friend, "what think you of all -this?" -"Why, upon my soul, my dear fellow, it strikes me that our -elegant and attentive neighbor must either be some -successful stockjobber who has speculated in the fall of -the Spanish funds, or some prince travelling incog." -"Hush, hush" replied Franz "we shall ascertain who and -what he is he comes" As Franz spoke, he heard the sound -of a door turning on its hinges, and almost immediately -afterwards the tapestry was drawn aside, and the owner of -all these riches stood before the two young men. Albert -instantly rose to meet him, but Franz remained, in a manner, -spellbound on his chair for in the person of him who had -just entered he recognized not only the mysterious visitant -to the Colosseum, and the occupant of the box at the Teatro -Argentino, but also his extraordinary host of Monte Cristo. -Chapter -La Mazzolata. -"Gentlemen," said the Count of Monte Cristo as he entered, -"I pray you excuse me for suffering my visit to be -anticipated but I feared to disturb you by presenting -myself earlier at your apartments besides, you sent me word -that you would come to me, and I have held myself at your -disposal." -"Franz and I have to thank you a thousand times, count," -returned Albert "you extricated us from a great dilemma, -and we were on the point of inventing a very fantastic -vehicle when your friendly invitation reached us." -"Indeed," returned the count, motioning the two young men to -sit down. "It was the fault of that blockhead Pastrini, that -I did not sooner assist you in your distress. He did not -mention a syllable of your embarrassment to me, when he -knows that, alone and isolated as I am, I seek every -opportunity of making the acquaintance of my neighbors. As -soon as I learned I could in any way assist you, I most -eagerly seized the opportunity of offering my services." The -two young men bowed. Franz had, as yet, found nothing to -say he had come to no determination, and as nothing in the -count's manner manifested the wish that he should recognize -him, he did not know whether to make any allusion to the -past, or wait until he had more proof besides, although -sure it was he who had been in the box the previous evening, -he could not be equally positive that this was the man he -had seen at the Colosseum. He resolved, therefore, to let -things take their course without making any direct overture -to the count. Moreover, he had this advantage, he was master -of the count's secret, while the count had no hold on Franz, -who had nothing to conceal. However, he resolved to lead the -conversation to a subject which might possibly clear up his -doubts. -"Count," said he, "you have offered us places in your -carriage, and at your windows in the Rospoli Palace. Can you -tell us where we can obtain a sight of the Piazza del -Popolo?" -"Ah," said the count negligently, looking attentively at -Morcerf, "is there not something like an execution upon the -Piazza del Popolo?" -"Yes," returned Franz, finding that the count was coming to -the point he wished. -"Stay, I think I told my steward yesterday to attend to -this perhaps I can render you this slight service also." He -extended his hand, and rang the bell thrice. "Did you ever -occupy yourself," said he to Franz, "with the employment of -time and the means of simplifying the summoning your -servants? I have. When I ring once, it is for my valet -twice, for my majordomo thrice, for my steward, thus I -do not waste a minute or a word. Here he is." A man of about -fortyfive or fifty entered, exactly resembling the smuggler -who had introduced Franz into the cavern but he did not -appear to recognize him. It was evident he had his orders. -"Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, "you have procured me -windows looking on the Piazza del Popolo, as I ordered you -yesterday." -"Yes, excellency," returned the steward "but it was very -late." -"Did I not tell you I wished for one?" replied the count, -frowning. -"And your excellency has one, which was let to Prince -Lobanieff but I was obliged to pay a hundred" -"That will do that will do, Monsieur Bertuccio spare -these gentlemen all such domestic arrangements. You have the -window, that is sufficient. Give orders to the coachman and -be in readiness on the stairs to conduct us to it." The -steward bowed, and was about to quit the room. "Ah," -continued the count, "be good enough to ask Pastrini if he -has received the tavoletta, and if he can send us an account -of the execution." -"There is no need to do that," said Franz, taking out his -tablets "for I saw the account, and copied it down." -"Very well, you can retire, M. Bertuccio but let us know -when breakfast is ready. These gentlemen," added he, turning -to the two friends, "will, I trust, do me the honor to -breakfast with me?" -"But, my dear count," said Albert, "we shall abuse your -kindness." -"Not at all on the contrary, you will give me great -pleasure. You will, one or other of you, perhaps both, -return it to me at Paris. M. Bertuccio, lay covers for -three." He then took Franz's tablets out of his hand. ""We -announce,' he read, in the same tone with which he would -have read a newspaper, "that today, the d of February, -will be executed Andrea Rondolo, guilty of murder on the -person of the respected and venerated Don Cesare Torlini, -canon of the church of St. John Lateran, and Peppino, called -Rocca Priori, convicted of complicity with the detestable -bandit Luigi Vampa, and the men of his band.' Hum "The -first will be mazzolato, the second decapitato.' Yes," -continued the count, "it was at first arranged in this way -but I think since yesterday some change has taken place in -the order of the ceremony." -"Really?" said Franz. -"Yes, I passed the evening at the Cardinal Rospigliosi's, -and there mention was made of something like a pardon for -one of the two men." -"For Andrea Rondolo?" asked Franz. -"No," replied the count, carelessly "for the other he -glanced at the tablets as if to recall the name, for -Peppino, called Rocca Priori. You are thus deprived of -seeing a man guillotined but the mazzuola still remains, -which is a very curious punishment when seen for the first -time, and even the second, while the other, as you must -know, is very simple. The mandaia never fails, never -trembles, never strikes thirty times ineffectually, like the -soldier who beheaded the Count of Chalais, and to whose -tender mercy Richelieu had doubtless recommended the -sufferer. Ah," added the count, in a contemptuous tone, "do -not tell me of European punishments, they are in the -infancy, or rather the old age, of cruelty." - Guillotine. -"Really, count," replied Franz, "one would think that you -had studied the different tortures of all the nations of the -world." -"There are, at least, few that I have not seen," said the -count coldly. -"And you took pleasure in beholding these dreadful -spectacles?" -"My first sentiment was horror, the second indifference, the -third curiosity." -"Curiosity that is a terrible word." -"Why so? In life, our greatest preoccupation is death is it -not then, curious to study the different ways by which the -soul and body can part and how, according to their -different characters, temperaments, and even the different -customs of their countries, different persons bear the -transition from life to death, from existence to -annihilation? As for myself, I can assure you of one thing, -the more men you see die, the easier it becomes to die -yourself and in my opinion, death may be a torture, but it -is not an expiation." -"I do not quite understand you," replied Franz "pray -explain your meaning, for you excite my curiosity to the -highest pitch." -"Listen," said the count, and deep hatred mounted to his -face, as the blood would to the face of any other. "If a man -had by unheardof and excruciating tortures destroyed your -father, your mother, your betrothed, a being who, when -torn from you, left a desolation, a wound that never closes, -in your breast, do you think the reparation that society -gives you is sufficient when it interposes the knife of the -guillotine between the base of the occiput and the trapezal -muscles of the murderer, and allows him who has caused us -years of moral sufferings to escape with a few moments of -physical pain?" -"Yes, I know," said Franz, "that human justice is -insufficient to console us she can give blood in return for -blood, that is all but you must demand from her only what -it is in her power to grant." -"I will put another case to you," continued the count "that -where society, attacked by the death of a person, avenges -death by death. But are there not a thousand tortures by -which a man may be made to suffer without society taking the -least cognizance of them, or offering him even the -insufficient means of vengeance, of which we have just -spoken? Are there not crimes for which the impalement of the -Turks, the augers of the Persians, the stake and the brand -of the Iroquois Indians, are inadequate tortures, and which -are unpunished by society? Answer me, do not these crimes -exist?" -"Yes," answered Franz "and it is to punish them that -duelling is tolerated." -"Ah, duelling," cried the count "a pleasant manner, upon my -soul, of arriving at your end when that end is vengeance A -man has carried off your mistress, a man has seduced your -wife, a man has dishonored your daughter he has rendered -the whole life of one who had the right to expect from -heaven that portion of happiness God his promised to every -one of his creatures, an existence of misery and infamy and -you think you are avenged because you send a ball through -the head, or pass a sword through the breast, of that man -who has planted madness in your brain, and despair in your -heart. And remember, moreover, that it is often he who comes -off victorious from the strife, absolved of all crime in the -eyes of the world. No, no," continued the count, "had I to -avenge myself, it is not thus I would take revenge." -"Then you disapprove of duelling? You would not fight a -duel?" asked Albert in his turn, astonished at this strange -theory. -"Oh, yes," replied the count "understand me, I would fight -a duel for a trifle, for an insult, for a blow and the more -so that, thanks to my skill in all bodily exercises, and the -indifference to danger I have gradually acquired, I should -be almost certain to kill my man. Oh, I would fight for such -a cause but in return for a slow, profound, eternal -torture, I would give back the same, were it possible an -eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, as the Orientalists -say, our masters in everything, those favored -creatures who have formed for themselves a life of dreams -and a paradise of realities." -"But," said Franz to the count, "with this theory, which -renders you at once judge and executioner of your own cause, -it would be difficult to adopt a course that would forever -prevent your falling under the power of the law. Hatred is -blind, rage carries you away and he who pours out vengeance -runs the risk of tasting a bitter draught." -"Yes, if he be poor and inexperienced, not if he be rich and -skilful besides, the worst that could happen to him would -be the punishment of which we have already spoken, and which -the philanthropic French Revolution has substituted for -being torn to pieces by horses or broken on the wheel. What -matters this punishment, as long as he is avenged? On my -word, I almost regret that in all probability this miserable -Peppino will not be beheaded, as you might have had an -opportunity then of seeing how short a time the punishment -lasts, and whether it is worth even mentioning but, really -this is a most singular conversation for the Carnival, -gentlemen how did it arise? Ah, I recollect, you asked for -a place at my window you shall have it but let us first -sit down to table, for here comes the servant to inform us -that breakfast is ready." As he spoke, a servant opened one -of the four doors of the apartment, saying "Al suo -commodo" The two young men arose and entered the -breakfastroom. -During the meal, which was excellent, and admirably served, -Franz looked repeatedly at Albert, in order to observe the -impressions which he doubted not had been made on him by the -words of their entertainer but whether with his usual -carelessness he had paid but little attention to him, -whether the explanation of the Count of Monte Cristo with -regard to duelling had satisfied him, or whether the events -which Franz knew of had had their effect on him alone, he -remarked that his companion did not pay the least regard to -them, but on the contrary ate like a man who for the last -four or five months had been condemned to partake of Italian -cookery that is, the worst in the world. As for the -count, he just touched the dishes he seemed to fulfil the -duties of a host by sitting down with his guests, and -awaited their departure to be served with some strange or -more delicate food. This brought back to Franz, in spite of -himself, the recollection of the terror with which the count -had inspired the Countess G , and her firm conviction -that the man in the opposite box was a vampire. At the end -of the breakfast Franz took out his watch. "Well," said the -count, "what are you doing?" -"You must excuse us, count," returned Franz, "but we have -still much to do." -"What may that be?" -"We have no masks, and it is absolutely necessary to procure -them." -"Do not concern yourself about that we have, I think, a -private room in the Piazza del Popolo I will have whatever -costumes you choose brought to us, and you can dress there." -"After the execution?" cried Franz. -"Before or after, whichever you please." -"Opposite the scaffold?" -"The scaffold forms part of the fete." -"Count, I have reflected on the matter," said Franz, "I -thank you for your courtesy, but I shall content myself with -accepting a place in your carriage and at your window at the -Rospoli Palace, and I leave you at liberty to dispose of my -place at the Piazza del Popolo." -"But I warn you, you will lose a very curious sight," -returned the count. -"You will describe it to me," replied Franz, "and the -recital from your lips will make as great an impression on -me as if I had witnessed it. I have more than once intended -witnessing an execution, but I have never been able to make -up my mind and you, Albert?" -"I," replied the viscount, "I saw Castaing executed, but -I think I was rather intoxicated that day, for I had quitted -college the same morning, and we had passed the previous -night at a tavern." -"Besides, it is no reason because you have not seen an -execution at Paris, that you should not see one anywhere -else when you travel, it is to see everything. Think what a -figure you will make when you are asked, "How do they -execute at Rome?' and you reply, "I do not know' And, -besides, they say that the culprit is an infamous scoundrel, -who killed with a log of wood a worthy canon who had brought -him up like his own son. Diable, when a churchman is killed, -it should be with a different weapon than a log, especially -when he has behaved like a father. If you went to Spain, -would you not see the bullfight? Well, suppose it is a -bullfight you are going to see? Recollect the ancient -Romans of the Circus, and the sports where they killed three -hundred lions and a hundred men. Think of the eighty -thousand applauding spectators, the sage matrons who took -their daughters, and the charming Vestals who made with the -thumb of their white hands the fatal sign that said, "Come, -despatch the dying.'" -"Shall you go, then, Albert?" asked Franz. -"Ma foi, yes like you, I hesitated, but the count's -eloquence decides me." -"Let us go, then," said Franz, "since you wish it but on -our way to the Piazza del Popolo, I wish to pass through the -Corso. Is this possible, count?" -"On foot, yes, in a carriage, no." -"I will go on foot, then." -"Is it important that you should go that way?" -"Yes, there is something I wish to see." -"Well, we will go by the Corso. We will send the carriage to -wait for us on the Piazza del Popolo, by the Strada del -Babuino, for I shall be glad to pass, myself, through the -Corso, to see if some orders I have given have been -executed." -"Excellency," said a servant, opening the door, "a man in -the dress of a penitent wishes to speak to you." -"Ah, yes" returned the count, "I know who he is, gentlemen -will you return to the salon? you will find good cigars on -the centre table. I will be with you directly." The young -men rose and returned into the salon, while the count, again -apologizing, left by another door. Albert, who was a great -smoker, and who had considered it no small sacrifice to be -deprived of the cigars of the Cafe de Paris, approached the -table, and uttered a cry of joy at perceiving some veritable -puros. -"Well," asked Franz, "what think you of the Count of Monte -Cristo?" -"What do I think?" said Albert, evidently surprised at such -a question from his companion "I think he is a delightful -fellow, who does the honors of his table admirably who has -travelled much, read much, is, like Brutus, of the Stoic -school, and moreover," added he, sending a volume of smoke -up towards the ceiling, "that he has excellent cigars." Such -was Albert's opinion of the count, and as Franz well knew -that Albert professed never to form an opinion except upon -long reflection, he made no attempt to change it. "But," -said he, "did you observe one very singular thing?" -"What?" -"How attentively he looked at you." -"At me?" -"Yes." Albert reflected. "Ah," replied he, sighing, "that -is not very surprising I have been more than a year absent -from Paris, and my clothes are of a most antiquated cut the -count takes me for a provincial. The first opportunity you -have, undeceive him, I beg, and tell him I am nothing of the -kind." Franz smiled an instant after the count entered. -"I am now quite at your service, gentlemen," said he. "The -carriage is going one way to the Piazza del Popolo, and we -will go another and, if you please, by the Corso. Take some -more of these cigars, M. de Morcerf." -"With all my heart," returned Albert "Italian cigars are -horrible. When you come to Paris, I will return all this." -"I will not refuse I intend going there soon, and since you -allow me, I will pay you a visit. Come, we have not any time -to lose, it is halfpast twelve let us set off." All -three descended the coachman received his master's orders, -and drove down the Via del Babuino. While the three -gentlemen walked along the Piazza de Spagni and the Via -Frattina, which led directly between the Fiano and Rospoli -palaces, Franz's attention was directed towards the windows -of that last palace, for he had not forgotten the signal -agreed upon between the man in the mantle and the -Transtevere peasant. "Which are your windows?" asked he of -the count, with as much indifference as he could assume. -"The three last," returned he, with a negligence evidently -unaffected, for he could not imagine with what intention the -question was put. Franz glanced rapidly towards the three -windows. The side windows were hung with yellow damask, and -the centre one with white damask and a red cross. The man in -the mantle had kept his promise to the Transteverin, and -there could now be no doubt that he was the count. The three -windows were still untenanted. Preparations were making on -every side chairs were placed, scaffolds were raised, and -windows were hung with flags. The masks could not appear -the carriages could not move about but the masks were -visible behind the windows, the carriages, and the doors. -Franz, Albert, and the count continued to descend the Corso. -As they approached the Piazza del Popolo, the crowd became -more dense, and above the heads of the multitude two objects -were visible the obelisk, surmounted by a cross, which -marks the centre of the square, and in front of the obelisk, -at the point where the three streets, del Babuino, del -Corso, and di Ripetta, meet, the two uprights of the -scaffold, between which glittered the curved knife of the -mandaia. At the corner of the street they met the count's -steward, who was awaiting his master. The window, let at an -exorbitant price, which the count had doubtless wished to -conceal from his guests, was on the second floor of the -great palace, situated between the Via del Babuino and the -Monte Pincio. It consisted, as we have said, of a small -dressingroom, opening into a bedroom, and, when the door of -communication was shut, the inmates were quite alone. On -chairs were laid elegant masquerade costumes of blue and -white satin. "As you left the choice of your costumes to -me," said the count to the two friends, "I have had these -brought, as they will be the most worn this year and they -are most suitable, on account of the confetti sweetmeats, -as they do not show the flour." -Franz heard the words of the count but imperfectly, and he -perhaps did not fully appreciate this new attention to their -wishes for he was wholly absorbed by the spectacle that the -Piazza del Popolo presented, and by the terrible instrument -that was in the centre. It was the first time Franz had ever -seen a guillotine, we say guillotine, because the Roman -mandaia is formed on almost the same model as the French -instrument. The knife, which is shaped like a crescent, -that cuts with the convex side, falls from a less height, -and that is all the difference. Two men, seated on the -movable plank on which the victim is laid, were eating their -breakfasts, while waiting for the criminal. Their repast -consisted apparently of bread and sausages. One of them -lifted the plank, took out a flask of wine, drank some, and -then passed it to his companion. These two men were the -executioner's assistants. At this sight Franz felt the -perspiration start forth upon his brow. The prisoners, -transported the previous evening from the Carcere Nuovo to -the little church of Santa Maria del Popolo, had passed the -night, each accompanied by two priests, in a chapel closed -by a grating, before which were two sentinels, who were -relieved at intervals. A double line of carbineers, placed -on each side of the door of the church, reached to the -scaffold, and formed a circle around it, leaving a path -about ten feet wide, and around the guillotine a space of -nearly a hundred feet. All the rest of the square was paved -with heads. Many women held their infants on their -shoulders, and thus the children had the best view. The -Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with -spectators the balconies of the two churches at the corner -of the Via del Babuino and the Via di Ripetta were crammed -the steps even seemed a particolored sea, that was impelled -towards the portico every niche in the wall held its living -statue. What the count said was true the most curious -spectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of the -silence and the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughter -and jests arose from the crowd. It was evident that the -execution was, in the eyes of the people, only the -commencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult ceased, as -if by magic, and the doors of the church opened. A -brotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robes -of gray sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding in -their hands lighted tapers, appeared first the chief -marched at the head. Behind the penitents came a man of vast -stature and proportions. He was naked, with the exception of -cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large knife -in a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron -sledgehammer. This man was the executioner. He had, -moreover, sandals bound on his feet by cords. Behind the -executioner came, in the order in which they were to die, -first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was accompanied by two -priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino walked with -a firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea was -supported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time, -kissed the crucifix a confessor held out to them. At this -sight alone Franz felt his legs tremble under him. He looked -at Albert he was as white as his shirt, and mechanically -cast away his cigar, although he had not half smoked it. The -count alone seemed unmoved nay, more, a slight color -seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrils -dilated like those of a wild beast that scents its prey, and -his lips, half opened, disclosed his white teeth, small and -sharp like those of a jackal. And yet his features wore an -expression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz had never -before witnessed in them his black eyes especially were -full of kindness and pity. However, the two culprits -advanced, and as they approached their faces became visible. -Peppino was a handsome young man of four or five and twenty, -bronzed by the sun he carried his head erect, and seemed on -the watch to see on which side his liberator would appear. -Andrea was short and fat his visage, marked with brutal -cruelty, did not indicate age he might be thirty. In prison -he had suffered his beard to grow his head fell on his -shoulder, his legs bent beneath him, and his movements were -apparently automatic and unconscious. - Dr. Guillotin got the idea of his famous machine from -witnessing an execution in Italy. -"I thought," said Franz to the count, "that you told me -there would be but one execution." -"I told you true," replied he coldly. -"And yet here are two culprits." -"Yes but only one of these two is about to die the other -has many years to live." -"If the pardon is to come, there is no time to lose." -"And see, here it is," said the count. At the moment when -Peppino reached the foot of the mandaia, a priest arrived in -some haste, forced his way through the soldiers, and, -advancing to the chief of the brotherhood, gave him a folded -paper. The piercing eye of Peppino had noticed all. The -chief took the paper, unfolded it, and, raising his hand, -"Heaven be praised, and his holiness also," said he in a -loud voice "here is a pardon for one of the prisoners" -"A pardon" cried the people with one voice "a pardon" -At this cry Andrea raised his head. "Pardon for whom?" cried -he. -Peppino remained breathless. "A pardon for Peppino, called -Rocca Priori," said the principal friar. And he passed the -paper to the officer commanding the carbineers, who read and -returned it to him. -"For Peppino" cried Andrea, who seemed roused from the -torpor in which he had been plunged. "Why for him and not -for me? We ought to die together. I was promised he should -die with me. You have no right to put me to death alone. I -will not die alone I will not" And he broke from the -priests struggling and raving like a wild beast, and -striving desperately to break the cords that bound his -hands. The executioner made a sign, and his two assistants -leaped from the scaffold and seized him. "What is going on?" -asked Franz of the count for, as all the talk was in the -Roman dialect, he had not perfectly understood it. "Do you -not see?" returned the count, "that this human creature who -is about to die is furious that his fellowsufferer does not -perish with him? and, were he able, he would rather tear him -to pieces with his teeth and nails than let him enjoy the -life he himself is about to be deprived of. Oh, man, man -race of crocodiles," cried the count, extending his clinched -hands towards the crowd, "how well do I recognize you there, -and that at all times you are worthy of yourselves" -Meanwhile Andrea and the two executioners were struggling on -the ground, and he kept exclaiming, "He ought to die he -shall die I will not die alone" -"Look, look," cried the count, seizing the young men's hands -"look, for on my soul it is curious. Here is a man who -had resigned himself to his fate, who was going to the -scaffold to die like a coward, it is true, but he was -about to die without resistance. Do you know what gave him -strength? do you know what consoled him? It was, that -another partook of his punishment that another partook of -his anguish that another was to die before him. Lead two -sheep to the butcher's, two oxen to the slaughterhouse, and -make one of them understand that his companion will not die -the sheep will bleat for pleasure, the ox will bellow with -joy. But man man, whom God created in his own image -man, upon whom God has laid his first, his sole commandment, -to love his neighbor man, to whom God has given a voice -to express his thoughts what is his first cry when he -hears his fellowman is saved? A blasphemy. Honor to man, -this masterpiece of nature, this king of the creation" And -the count burst into a laugh a terrible laugh, that showed -he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. -However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadful -to witness. The people all took part against Andrea, and -twenty thousand voices cried, "Put him to death put him to -death" Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, and -held him before the window. "What are you doing?" said he. -"Do you pity him? If you heard the cry of "Mad dog' you -would take your gun you would unhesitatingly shoot the -poor beast, who, after all, was only guilty of having been -bitten by another dog. And yet you pity a man who, without -being bitten by one of his race, has yet murdered his -benefactor and who, now unable to kill any one, because his -hands are bound, wishes to see his companion in captivity -perish. No, no look, look" -The command was needless. Franz was fascinated by the -horrible spectacle. The two assistants had borne Andrea to -the scaffold, and there, in spite of his struggles, his -bites, and his cries, had forced him to his knees. During -this time the executioner had raised his mace, and signed to -them to get out of the way the criminal strove to rise, -but, ere he had time, the mace fell on his left temple. A -dull and heavy sound was heard, and the man dropped like an -ox on his face, and then turned over on his back. The -executioner let fall his mace, drew his knife, and with one -stroke opened his throat, and mounting on his stomach, -stamped violently on it with his feet. At every stroke a jet -of blood sprang from the wound. -This time Franz could contain himself no longer, but sank, -half fainting, into a seat. Albert, with his eyes closed, -was standing grasping the windowcurtains. The count was -erect and triumphant, like the Avenging Angel -Chapter -The Carnival at Rome. -When Franz recovered his senses, he saw Albert drinking a -glass of water, of which, to judge from his pallor, he stood -in great need and the count, who was assuming his -masquerade costume. He glanced mechanically towards the -square the scene was wholly changed scaffold, -executioners, victims, all had disappeared only the people -remained, full of noise and excitement. The bell of Monte -Citorio, which only sounds on the pope's decease and the -opening of the Carnival, was ringing a joyous peal. "Well," -asked he of the count, "what has, then, happened?" -"Nothing," replied the count "only, as you see, the -Carnival his commenced. Make haste and dress yourself." -"In fact," said Franz, "this horrible scene has passed away -like a dream." -"It is but a dream, a nightmare, that has disturbed you." -"Yes, that I have suffered but the culprit?" -"That is a dream also only he has remained asleep, while -you have awakened and who knows which of you is the most -fortunate?" -"But Peppino what has become of him?" -"Peppino is a lad of sense, who, unlike most men, who are -happy in proportion as they are noticed, was delighted to -see that the general attention was directed towards his -companion. He profited by this distraction to slip away -among the crowd, without even thanking the worthy priests -who accompanied him. Decidedly man is an ungrateful and -egotistical animal. But dress yourself see, M. de Morcerf -sets you the example." Albert was drawing on the satin -pantaloon over his black trousers and varnished boots. -"Well, Albert," said Franz, "do you feel much inclined to -join the revels? Come, answer frankly." -"Ma foi, no," returned Albert. "But I am really glad to have -seen such a sight and I understand what the count said -that when you have once habituated yourself to a similar -spectacle, it is the only one that causes you any emotion." -"Without reflecting that this is the only moment in which -you can study character," said the count "on the steps of -the scaffold death tears off the mask that has been worn -through life, and the real visage is disclosed. It must be -allowed that Andrea was not very handsome, the hideous -scoundrel Come, dress yourselves, gentlemen, dress -yourselves." Franz felt it would be ridiculous not to follow -his two companions' example. He assumed his costume, and -fastened on the mask that scarcely equalled the pallor of -his own face. Their toilet finished, they descended the -carriage awaited them at the door, filled with sweetmeats -and bouquets. They fell into the line of carriages. It is -difficult to form an idea of the perfect change that had -taken place. Instead of the spectacle of gloomy and silent -death, the Piazza del Popolo presented a spectacle of gay -and noisy mirth and revelry. A crowd of masks flowed in from -all sides, emerging from the doors, descending from the -windows. From every street and every corner drove carriages -filled with clowns, harlequins, dominoes, mummers, -pantomimists, Transteverins, knights, and peasants, -screaming, fighting, gesticulating, throwing eggs filled -with flour, confetti, nosegays, attacking, with their -sarcasms and their missiles, friends and foes, companions -and strangers, indiscriminately, and no one took offence, or -did anything but laugh. Franz and Albert were like men who, -to drive away a violent sorrow, have recourse to wine, and -who, as they drink and become intoxicated, feel a thick veil -drawn between the past and the present. They saw, or rather -continued to see, the image of what they had witnessed but -little by little the general vertigo seized them, and they -felt themselves obliged to take part in the noise and -confusion. A handful of confetti that came from a -neighboring carriage, and which, while it covered Morcerf -and his two companions with dust, pricked his neck and that -portion of his face uncovered by his mask like a hundred -pins, incited him to join in the general combat, in which -all the masks around him were engaged. He rose in his turn, -and seizing handfuls of confetti and sweetmeats, with which -the carriage was filled, cast them with all the force and -skill he was master of. -The strife had fairly begun, and the recollection of what -they had seen half an hour before was gradually effaced from -the young men's minds, so much were they occupied by the gay -and glittering procession they now beheld. As for the Count -of Monte Cristo, he had never for an instant shown any -appearance of having been moved. Imagine the large and -splendid Corso, bordered from one end to the other with -lofty palaces, with their balconies hung with carpets, and -their windows with flags. At these balconies are three -hundred thousand spectators Romans, Italians, strangers -from all parts of the world, the united aristocracy of -birth, wealth, and genius. Lovely women, yielding to the -influence of the scene, bend over their balconies, or lean -from their windows, and shower down confetti, which are -returned by bouquets the air seems darkened with the -falling confetti and flying flowers. In the streets the -lively crowd is dressed in the most fantastic costumes -gigantic cabbages walk gravely about, buffaloes' heads bellow -from men's shoulders, dogs walk on their hind legs in the -midst of all this a mask is lifted, and, as in Callot's -Temptation of St. Anthony, a lovely face is exhibited, which -we would fain follow, but from which we are separated by -troops of fiends. This will give a faint idea of the -Carnival at Rome. At the second turn the Count stopped the -carriage, and requested permission to withdraw, leaving the -vehicle at their disposal. Franz looked up they were -opposite the Rospoli Palace. At the centre window, the one -hung with white damask with a red cross, was a blue domino, -beneath which Franz's imagination easily pictured the -beautiful Greek of the Argentina. "Gentlemen," said the -count, springing out, "when you are tired of being actors, -and wish to become spectators of this scene, you know you -have places at my windows. In the meantime, dispose of my -coachman, my carriage, and my servants." We have forgotten -to mention, that the count's coachman was attired in a -bearskin, exactly resembling Odry's in "The Bear and the -Pasha" and the two footmen behind were dressed up as green -monkeys, with spring masks, with which they made grimaces at -every one who passed. Franz thanked the count for his -attention. As for Albert, he was busily occupied throwing -bouquets at a carriage full of Roman peasants that was -passing near him. Unfortunately for him, the line of -carriages moved on again, and while he descended the Piazza -del Popolo, the other ascended towards the Palazzo di -Venezia. "Ah, my dear fellow," said he to Franz "you did -not see?" -"What?" -"There, that calash filled with Roman peasants." -"No." -"Well, I am convinced they are all charming women." -"How unfortunate that you were masked, Albert," said Franz -"here was an opportunity of making up for past -disappointments." -"Oh," replied he, half laughing, half serious "I hope the -Carnival will not pass without some amends in one shape or -the other." -But, in spite of Albert's hope, the day passed unmarked by -any incident, excepting two or three encounters with the -carriage full of Roman peasants. At one of these encounters, -accidentally or purposely, Albert's mask fell off. He -instantly rose and cast the remainder of the bouquets into -the carriage. Doubtless one of the charming females Albert -had detected beneath their coquettish disguise was touched -by his gallantry for, as the carriage of the two friends -passed her, she threw a bunch of violets. Albert seized it, -and as Franz had no reason to suppose it was meant for him, -he suffered Albert to retain it. Albert placed it in his -buttonhole, and the carriage went triumphantly on. -"Well," said Franz to him "there is the beginning of an -adventure." -"Laugh if you please I really think so. So I will not -abandon this bouquet." -"Pardieu," returned Franz, laughing, "in token of your -ingratitude." The jest, however, soon appeared to become -earnest for when Albert and Franz again encountered the -carriage with the contadini, the one who had thrown the -violets to Albert, clapped her hands when she beheld them in -his buttonhole. "Bravo, bravo," said Franz "things go -wonderfully. Shall I leave you? Perhaps you would prefer -being alone?" -"No," replied he "I will not be caught like a fool at a -first disclosure by a rendezvous under the clock, as they -say at the operaballs. If the fair peasant wishes to carry -matters any further, we shall find her, or rather, she will -find us tomorrow then she will give me some sign or other, -and I shall know what I have to do." -"On my word," said Franz, "you are wise as Nestor and -prudent as Ulysses, and your fair Circe must be very skilful -or very powerful if she succeed in changing you into a beast -of any kind." Albert was right the fair unknown had -resolved, doubtless, to carry the intrigue no farther for -although the young men made several more turns, they did not -again see the calash, which had turned up one of the -neighboring streets. Then they returned to the Rospoli -Palace but the count and the blue domino had also -disappeared the two windows, hung with yellow damask, were -still occupied by the persons whom the count had invited. At -this moment the same bell that had proclaimed the beginning -of the mascherata sounded the retreat. The file on the Corso -broke the line, and in a second all the carriages had -disappeared. Franz and Albert were opposite the Via delle -Maratte the coachman, without saying a word, drove up it, -passed along the Piazza di Spagni and the Rospoli Palace and -stopped at the door of the hotel. Signor Pastrini came to -the door to receive his guests. Franz hastened to inquire -after the count, and to express regret that he had not -returned in sufficient time but Pastrini reassured him by -saying that the Count of Monte Cristo had ordered a second -carriage for himself, and that it had gone at four o'clock -to fetch him from the Rospoli Palace. The count had, -moreover, charged him to offer the two friends the key of -his box at the Argentina. Franz questioned Albert as to his -intentions but Albert had great projects to put into -execution before going to the theatre and instead of making -any answer, he inquired if Signor Pastrini could procure him -a tailor. "A tailor," said the host "and for what?" -"To make us between now and tomorrow two Roman peasant -costumes," returned Albert. The host shook his head. "To -make you two costumes between now and tomorrow? I ask your -excellencies' pardon, but this is quite a French demand for -the next week you will not find a single tailor who would -consent to sew six buttons on a waistcoat if you paid him a -crown a piece for each button." -"Then I must give up the idea?" -"No we have them readymade. Leave all to me and -tomorrow, when you awake, you shall find a collection of -costumes with which you will be satisfied." -"My dear Albert," said Franz, "leave all to our host he has -already proved himself full of resources let us dine -quietly, and afterwards go and see "The Algerian Captive.'" -"Agreed," returned Albert "but remember, Signor Pastrini, -that both my friend and myself attach the greatest -importance to having tomorrow the costumes we have asked -for." The host again assured them they might rely on him, -and that their wishes should be attended to upon which -Franz and Albert mounted to their apartments, and proceeded -to disencumber themselves of their costumes. Albert, as he -took off his dress, carefully preserved the bunch of -violets it was his token reserved for the morrow. The two -friends sat down to table but they could not refrain from -remarking the difference between the Count of Monte Cristo's -table and that of Signor Pastrini. Truth compelled Franz, in -spite of the dislike he seemed to have taken to the count, -to confess that the advantage was not on Pastrini's side. -During dessert, the servant inquired at what time they -wished for the carriage. Albert and Franz looked at each -other, fearing really to abuse the count's kindness. The -servant understood them. "His excellency the Count of Monte -Cristo had," he said, "given positive orders that the -carriage was to remain at their lordships' orders all day, -and they could therefore dispose of it without fear of -indiscretion." -They resolved to profit by the count's courtesy, and ordered -the horses to be harnessed, while they substituted evening -dress for that which they had on, and which was somewhat the -worse for the numerous combats they had sustained. This -precaution taken, they went to the theatre, and installed -themselves in the count's box. During the first act, the -Countess G entered. Her first look was at the box where -she had seen the count the previous evening, so that she -perceived Franz and Albert in the place of the very person -concerning whom she had expressed so strange an opinion to -Franz. Her operaglass was so fixedly directed towards them, -that Franz saw it would be cruel not to satisfy her -curiosity and, availing himself of one of the privileges of -the spectators of the Italian theatres, who use their boxes -to hold receptions, the two friends went to pay their -respects to the countess. Scarcely had they entered, when -she motioned to Franz to assume the seat of honor. Albert, -in his turn, sat behind. -"Well," said she, hardly giving Franz time to sit down, "it -seems you have nothing better to do than to make the -acquaintance of this new Lord Ruthven, and you are already -the best friends in the world." -"Without being so far advanced as that, my dear countess," -returned Franz, "I cannot deny that we have abused his good -nature all day." -"All day?" -"Yes this morning we breakfasted with him we rode in his -carriage all day, and now we have taken possession of his -box." -"You know him, then?" -"Yes, and no." -"How so?" -"It is a long story." -'Tell it to me." -"It would frighten you too much." -"So much the more reason." -"At least wait until the story has a conclusion." -"Very well I prefer complete histories but tell me how you -made his acquaintance? Did any one introduce you to him?" -"No it was he who introduced himself to us." -"When?" -"Last night, after we left you." -"Through what medium?" -"The very prosaic one of our landlord." -"He is staying, then, at the Hotel de Londres with you?" -"Not only in the same hotel, but on the same floor." -"What is his name for, of course, you know?" -"The Count of Monte Cristo." -"That is not a family name?" -"No, it is the name of the island he has purchased." -"And he is a count?" -"A Tuscan count." -"Well, we must put up with that," said the countess, who was -herself from one of the oldest Venetian families. "What sort -of a man is he?" -"Ask the Vicomte de Morcerf." -"You hear, M. de Morcerf, I am referred to you," said the -countess. -"We should be very hard to please, madam," returned Albert, -"did we not think him delightful. A friend of ten years' -standing could not have done more for us, or with a more -perfect courtesy." -"Come," observed the countess, smiling, "I see my vampire is -only some millionaire, who has taken the appearance of Lara -in order to avoid being confounded with M. de Rothschild -and you have seen her?" -"Her?" -"The beautiful Greek of yesterday." -"No we heard, I think, the sound of her guzla, but she -remained perfectly invisible." -"When you say invisible," interrupted Albert, "it is only to -keep up the mystery for whom do you take the blue domino at -the window with the white curtains?" -"Where was this window with white hangings?" asked the -countess. -"At the Rospoli Palace." -"The count had three windows at the Rospoli Palace?" -"Yes. Did you pass through the Corso?" -"Yes." -"Well, did you notice two windows hung with yellow damask, -and one with white damask with a red cross? Those were the -count's windows." -"Why, he must be a nabob. Do you know what those three -windows were worth?" -"Two or three hundred Roman crowns?" -"Two or three thousand." -"The deuce." -"Does his island produce him such a revenue?" -"It does not bring him a baiocco." -"Then why did he purchase it?" -"For a whim." -"He is an original, then?" -"In reality," observed Albert, "he seemed to me somewhat -eccentric were he at Paris, and a frequenter of the -theatres, I should say he was a poor devil literally mad. -This morning he made two or three exits worthy of Didier or -Anthony." At this moment a fresh visitor entered, and, -according to custom, Franz gave up his seat to him. This -circumstance had, moreover, the effect of changing the -conversation an hour afterwards the two friends returned to -their hotel. Signor Pastrini had already set about procuring -their disguises for the morrow and he assured them that -they would be perfectly satisfied. The next morning, at nine -o'clock, he entered Franz's room, followed by a tailor, who -had eight or ten Roman peasant costumes on his arm they -selected two exactly alike, and charged the tailor to sew on -each of their hats about twenty yards of ribbon, and to -procure them two of the long silk sashes of different colors -with which the lower orders decorate themselves on -fetedays. Albert was impatient to see how he looked in his -new dress a jacket and breeches of blue velvet, silk -stockings with clocks, shoes with buckles, and a silk -waistcoat. This picturesque attire set him off to great -advantage and when he had bound the scarf around his waist, -and when his hat, placed coquettishly on one side, let fall -on his shoulder a stream of ribbons, Franz was forced to -confess that costume has much to do with the physical -superiority we accord to certain nations. The Turks used to -be so picturesque with their long and flowing robes, but are -they not now hideous with their blue frocks buttoned up to -the chin, and their red caps, which make them look like a -bottle of wine with a red seal? Franz complimented Albert, -who looked at himself in the glass with an unequivocal smile -of satisfaction. They were thus engaged when the Count of -Monte Cristo entered. -"Gentlemen," said he, "although a companion is agreeable, -perfect freedom is sometimes still more agreeable. I come to -say that today, and for the remainder of the Carnival, I -leave the carriage entirely at your disposal. The host will -tell you I have three or four more, so that you will not -inconvenience me in any way. Make use of it, I pray you, for -your pleasure or your business." -The young men wished to decline, but they could find no good -reason for refusing an offer which was so agreeable to them. -The Count of Monte Cristo remained a quarter of an hour with -them, conversing on all subjects with the greatest ease. He -was, as we have already said, perfectly well acquainted with -the literature of all countries. A glance at the walls of -his salon proved to Franz and Albert that he was a -connoisseur of pictures. A few words he let fall showed them -that he was no stranger to the sciences, and he seemed much -occupied with chemistry. The two friends did not venture to -return the count the breakfast he had given them it would -have been too absurd to offer him in exchange for his -excellent table the very inferior one of Signor Pastrini. -They told him so frankly, and he received their excuses with -the air of a man who appreciated their delicacy. Albert was -charmed with the count's manners, and he was only prevented -from recognizing him for a perfect gentleman by reason of -his varied knowledge. The permission to do what he liked -with the carriage pleased him above all, for the fair -peasants had appeared in a most elegant carriage the -preceding evening, and Albert was not sorry to be upon an -equal footing with them. At halfpast one they descended, -the coachman and footman had put on their livery over their -disguises, which gave them a more ridiculous appearance than -ever, and which gained them the applause of Franz and -Albert. Albert had fastened the faded bunch of violets to -his buttonhole. At the first sound of the bell they -hastened into the Corso by the Via Vittoria. At the second -turn, a bunch of fresh violets, thrown from a carriage -filled with harlequins, indicated to Albert that, like -himself and his friend, the peasants had changed their -costume, also and whether it was the result of chance, or -whether a similar feeling had possessed them both, while he -had changed his costume they had assumed his. -Albert placed the fresh bouquet in his buttonhole, but he -kept the faded one in his hand and when he again met the -calash, he raised it to his lips, an action which seemed -greatly to amuse not only the fair lady who had thrown it, -but her joyous companions also. The day was as gay as the -preceding one, perhaps even more animated and noisy the -count appeared for an instant at his window, but when they -again passed he had disappeared. It is almost needless to -say that the flirtation between Albert and the fair peasant -continued all day. In the evening, on his return, Franz -found a letter from the embassy, informing him that he would -have the honor of being received by his holiness the next -day. At each previous visit he had made to Rome, he had -solicited and obtained the same favor and incited as much -by a religious feeling as by gratitude, he was unwilling to -quit the capital of the Christian world without laying his -respectful homage at the feet of one of St. Peter's -successors who has set the rare example of all the virtues. -He did not then think of the Carnival, for in spite of his -condescension and touching kindness, one cannot incline -one's self without awe before the venerable and noble old -man called Gregory XVI. On his return from the Vatican, -Franz carefully avoided the Corso he brought away with him -a treasure of pious thoughts, to which the mad gayety of the -maskers would have been profanation. At ten minutes past -five Albert entered overjoyed. The harlequin had reassumed -her peasant's costume, and as she passed she raised her -mask. She was charming. Franz congratulated Albert, who -received his congratulations with the air of a man conscious -that they are merited. He had recognized by certain -unmistakable signs, that his fair incognita belonged to the -aristocracy. He had made up his mind to write to her the -next day. Franz remarked, while he gave these details, that -Albert seemed to have something to ask of him, but that he -was unwilling to ask it. He insisted upon it, declaring -beforehand that he was willing to make any sacrifice the -other wished. Albert let himself be pressed just as long as -friendship required, and then avowed to Franz that he would -do him a great favor by allowing him to occupy the carriage -alone the next day. Albert attributed to Franz's absence the -extreme kindness of the fair peasant in raising her mask. -Franz was not sufficiently egotistical to stop Albert in the -middle of an adventure that promised to prove so agreeable -to his curiosity and so flattering to his vanity. He felt -assured that the perfect indiscretion of his friend would -duly inform him of all that happened and as, during three -years that he had travelled all over Italy, a similar piece -of good fortune had never fallen to his share, Franz was by -no means sorry to learn how to act on such an occasion. He -therefore promised Albert that he would content himself the -morrow with witnessing the Carnival from the windows of the -Rospoli Palace. -The next morning he saw Albert pass and repass, holding an -enormous bouquet, which he doubtless meant to make the -bearer of his amorous epistle. This belief was changed into -certainty when Franz saw the bouquet conspicuous by a -circle of white camellias in the hand of a charming -harlequin dressed in rosecolored satin. The evening was no -longer joy, but delirium. Albert nothing doubted but that -the fair unknown would reply in the same manner. Franz -anticipated his wishes by saying that the noise fatigued -him, and that he should pass the next day in writing and -looking over his journal. Albert was not deceived, for the -next evening Franz saw him enter triumphantly shaking a -folded paper which he held by one corner. "Well," said he, -"was I mistaken?" -"She has answered you" cried Franz. -"Read." This word was pronounced in a manner impossible to -describe. Franz took the letter, and read -Tuesday evening, at seven o'clock, descend from your -carriage opposite the Via dei Pontefici, and follow the -Roman peasant who snatches your torch from you. When you -arrive at the first step of the church of San Giacomo, be -sure to fasten a knot of rosecolored ribbons to the -shoulder of your harlequin costume, in order that you may be -recognized. Until then you will not see me. -Constancy and Discretion. -"Well," asked he, when Franz had finished, "what do you -think of that?" -"I think that the adventure is assuming a very agreeable -appearance." -"I think so, also," replied Albert "and I very much fear -you will go alone to the Duke of Bracciano's ball." Franz -and Albert had received that morning an invitation from the -celebrated Roman banker. "Take care, Albert," said Franz. -"All the nobility of Rome will be present, and if your fair -incognita belong to the higher class of society, she must go -there." -"Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the -same," returned Albert. "You have read the letter?" -"Yes." -"You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are -educated in Italy?" This is the name of the lower class. -"Yes." -"Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and find -if you can, any blemish in the language or orthography." -The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthography -irreproachable. "You are born to good fortune," said Franz, -as he returned the letter. -"Laugh as much as you will," replied Albert, "I am in love." -"You alarm me," cried Franz. "I see that I shall not only go -alone to the Duke of Bracciano's, but also return to -Florence alone." -"If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful," said -Albert, "I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least. -I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste for -archaeology." -"Come, two or three more such adventures, and I do not -despair of seeing you a member of the Academy." Doubtless -Albert was about to discuss seriously his right to the -academic chair when they were informed that dinner was -ready. Albert's love had not taken away his appetite. He -hastened with Franz to seat himself, free to recommence the -discussion after dinner. After dinner, the Count of Monte -Cristo was announced. They had not seen him for two days. -Signor Pastrini informed them that business had called him -to Civita Vecchia. He had started the previous evening, and -had only returned an hour since. He was charming. Whether he -kept a watch over himself, or whether by accident he did not -sound the acrimonious chords that in other circumstances had -been touched, he was tonight like everybody else. The man -was an enigma to Franz. The count must feel sure that Franz -recognized him and yet he had not let fall a single word -indicating any previous acquaintance between them. On his -side, however great Franz's desire was to allude to their -former interview, the fear of being disagreeable to the man -who had loaded him and his friend with kindness prevented -him from mentioning it. The count had learned that the two -friends had sent to secure a box at the Argentina Theatre, -and were told they were all let. In consequence, he brought -them the key of his own at least such was the apparent -motive of his visit. Franz and Albert made some difficulty, -alleging their fear of depriving him of it but the count -replied that, as he was going to the Palli Theatre, the box -at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if they did not -profit by it. This assurance determined the two friends to -accept it. -Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's -pallor, which had so forcibly struck him at their first -meeting. He could not refrain from admiring the severe -beauty of his features, the only defect, or rather the -principal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronic -hero Franz could not, we will not say see him, but even -think of him without imagining his stern head upon Manfred's -shoulders, or beneath Lara's helmet. His forehead was marked -with the line that indicates the constant presence of bitter -thoughts he had the fiery eyes that seem to penetrate to -the very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip that -gives to the words it utters a peculiar character that -impresses them on the minds of those to whom they are -addressed. The count was no longer young. He was at least -forty and yet it was easy to understand that he was formed -to rule the young men with whom he associated at present. -And, to complete his resemblance with the fantastic heroes -of the English poet, the count seemed to have the power of -fascination. Albert was constantly expatiating on their good -fortune in meeting such a man. Franz was less enthusiastic -but the count exercised over him also the ascendency a -strong mind always acquires over a mind less domineering. He -thought several times of the project the count had of -visiting Paris and he had no doubt but that, with his -eccentric character, his characteristic face, and his -colossal fortune, he would produce a great effect there. And -yet he did not wish to be at Paris when the count was there. -The evening passed as evenings mostly pass at Italian -theatres that is, not in listening to the music, but in -paying visits and conversing. The Countess G wished to -revive the subject of the count, but Franz announced he had -something far newer to tell her, and, in spite of Albert's -demonstrations of false modesty, he informed the countess of -the great event which had preoccupied them for the last -three days. As similar intrigues are not uncommon in Italy, -if we may credit travellers, the comtess did not manifest -the least incredulity, but congratulated Albert on his -success. They promised, upon separating, to meet at the Duke -of Bracciano's ball, to which all Rome was invited. The -heroine of the bouquet kept her word she gave Albert no -sign of her existence the morrow or the day after. -At length Tuesday came, the last and most tumultuous day of -the Carnival. On Tuesday, the theatres open at ten o'clock -in the morning, as Lent begins after eight at night. On -Tuesday, all those who through want of money, time, or -enthusiasm, have not been to see the Carnival before, mingle -in the gayety, and contribute to the noise and excitement. -From two o'clock till five Franz and Albert followed in the -fete, exchanging handfuls of confetti with the other -carriages and the pedestrians, who crowded amongst the -horses' feet and the carriage wheels without a single -accident, a single dispute, or a single fight. The fetes are -veritable pleasure days to the Italians. The author of this -history, who has resided five or six years in Italy, does -not recollect to have ever seen a ceremony interrupted by -one of those events so common in other countries. Albert was -triumphant in his harlequin costume. A knot of rosecolored -ribbons fell from his shoulder almost to the ground. In -order that there might be no confusion, Franz wore his -peasant's costume. -As the day advanced, the tumult became greater. There was -not on the pavement, in the carriages, at the windows, a -single tongue that was silent, a single arm that did not -move. It was a human storm, made up of a thunder of cries, -and a hail of sweetmeats, flowers, eggs, oranges, and -nosegays. At three o'clock the sound of fireworks, let off -on the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza di Venezia heard -with difficulty amid the din and confusion announced that -the races were about to begin. The races, like the moccoli, -are one of the episodes peculiar to the last days of the -Carnival. At the sound of the fireworks the carriages -instantly broke ranks, and retired by the adjacent streets. -All these evolutions are executed with an inconceivable -address and marvellous rapidity, without the police -interfering in the matter. The pedestrians ranged themselves -against the walls then the trampling of horses and the -clashing of steel were heard. A detachment of carbineers, -fifteen abreast, galloped up the Corso in order to clear it -for the barberi. When the detachment arrived at the Piazza -di Venezia, a second volley of fireworks was discharged, to -announce that the street was clear. Almost instantly, in the -midst of a tremendous and general outcry, seven or eight -horses, excited by the shouts of three hundred thousand -spectators, passed by like lightning. Then the Castle of -Saint Angelo fired three cannon to indicate that number -three had won. Immediately, without any other signal, the -carriages moved on, flowing on towards the Corso, down all -the streets, like torrents pent up for a while, which again -flow into the parent river and the immense stream again -continued its course between its two granite banks. -A new source of noise and movement was added to the crowd. -The sellers of moccoletti entered on the scene. The moccoli, -or moccoletti, are candles which vary in size from the -pascal taper to the rushlight, and which give to each actor -in the great final scene of the Carnival two very serious -problems to grapple with, first, how to keep his own -moccoletto alight and secondly, how to extinguish the -moccoletti of others. The moccoletto is like life man has -found but one means of transmitting it, and that one comes -from God. But he has discovered a thousand means of taking -it away, and the devil has somewhat aided him. The -moccoletto is kindled by approaching it to a light. But who -can describe the thousand means of extinguishing the -moccoletto? the gigantic bellows, the monstrous -extinguishers, the superhuman fans. Every one hastened to -purchase moccoletti Franz and Albert among the rest. -The night was rapidly approaching and already, at the cry -of "Moccoletti" repeated by the shrill voices of a thousand -vendors, two or three stars began to burn among the crowd. -It was a signal. At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand -lights glittered, descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to -the Piazza del Popolo, and mounting from the Piazzo del -Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. It seemed like the fete of -jacko'lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of it -without having seen it. Suppose that all the stars had -descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the -face of the earth the whole accompanied by cries that were -never heard in any other part of the world. The facchino -follows the prince, the Transteverin the citizen, every one -blowing, extinguishing, relighting. Had old AEolus appeared -at this moment, he would have been proclaimed king of the -moccoli, and Aquilo the heirpresumptive to the throne. This -battle of folly and flame continued for two hours the Corso -was light as day the features of the spectators on the -third and fourth stories were visible. Every five minutes -Albert took out his watch at length it pointed to seven. -The two friends were in the Via dei Pontefici. Albert sprang -out, bearing his moccoletto in his hand. Two or three masks -strove to knock his moccoletto out of his hand but Albert, -a firstrate pugilist, sent them rolling in the street, one -after the other, and continued his course towards the church -of San Giacomo. The steps were crowded with masks, who -strove to snatch each other's torches. Franz followed Albert -with his eyes, and saw him mount the first step. Instantly a -mask, wearing the wellknown costume of a peasant woman, -snatched his moccoletto from him without his offering any -resistance. Franz was too far off to hear what they said -but, without doubt, nothing hostile passed, for he saw -Albert disappear arminarm with the peasant girl. He -watched them pass through the crowd for some time, but at -length he lost sight of them in the Via Macello. Suddenly -the bell that gives the signal for the end of the carnival -sounded, and at the same instant all the moccoletti were -extinguished as if by enchantment. It seemed as though one -immense blast of the wind had extinguished every one. Franz -found himself in utter darkness. No sound was audible save -that of the carriages that were carrying the maskers home -nothing was visible save a few lights that burnt behind the -windows. The Carnival was over. -Chapter -The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian. -In his whole life, perhaps, Franz had never before -experienced so sudden an impression, so rapid a transition -from gayety to sadness, as in this moment. It seemed as -though Rome, under the magic breath of some demon of the -night, had suddenly changed into a vast tomb. By a chance, -which added yet more to the intensity of the darkness, the -moon, which was on the wane, did not rise until eleven -o'clock, and the streets which the young man traversed were -plunged in the deepest obscurity. The distance was short, -and at the end of ten minutes his carriage, or rather the -count's, stopped before the Hotel de Londres. Dinner was -waiting, but as Albert had told him that he should not -return so soon, Franz sat down without him. Signor Pastrini, -who had been accustomed to see them dine together, inquired -into the cause of his absence, but Franz merely replied that -Albert had received on the previous evening an invitation -which he had accepted. The sudden extinction of the -moccoletti, the darkness which had replaced the light, and -the silence which had succeeded the turmoil, had left in -Franz's mind a certain depression which was not free from -uneasiness. He therefore dined very silently, in spite of -the officious attention of his host, who presented himself -two or three times to inquire if he wanted anything. -Franz resolved to wait for Albert as late as possible. He -ordered the carriage, therefore, for eleven o'clock, -desiring Signor Pastrini to inform him the moment that -Albert returned to the hotel. At eleven o'clock Albert had -not come back. Franz dressed himself, and went out, telling -his host that he was going to pass the night at the Duke of -Bracciano's. The house of the Duke of Bracciano is one of -the most delightful in Rome, the duchess, one of the last -heiresses of the Colonnas, does its honors with the most -consummate grace, and thus their fetes have a European -celebrity. Franz and Albert had brought to Rome letters of -introduction to them, and their first question on his -arrival was to inquire the whereabouts of his travelling -companion. Franz replied that he had left him at the moment -they were about to extinguish the moccoli, and that he had -lost sight of him in the Via Macello. "Then he has not -returned?" said the duke. -"I waited for him until this hour," replied Franz. -"And do you know whither he went?" -"No, not precisely however, I think it was something very -like a rendezvous." -"Diavolo" said the duke, "this is a bad day, or rather a -bad night, to be out late is it not, countess" These words -were addressed to the Countess G , who had just -arrived, and was leaning on the arm of Signor Torlonia, the -duke's brother. -"I think, on the contrary, that it is a charming night," -replied the countess, "and those who are here will complain -of but one thing its too rapid flight." -"I am not speaking," said the duke with a smile, "of the -persons who are here the men run no other danger than that -of falling in love with you, and the women of falling ill of -jealousy at seeing you so lovely I meant persons who were -out in the streets of Rome." -"Ah," asked the countess, "who is out in the streets of Rome -at this hour, unless it be to go to a ball?" -"Our friend, Albert de Morcerf, countess, whom I left in -pursuit of his unknown about seven o'clock this evening," -said Franz, "and whom I have not seen since." -"And don't you know where he is?" -"Not at all." -"Is he armed?" -"He is in masquerade." -"You should not have allowed him to go," said the duke to -Franz "you, who know Rome better than he does." -"You might as well have tried to stop number three of the -barberi, who gained the prize in the race today," replied -Franz "and then moreover, what could happen to him?" -"Who can tell? The night is gloomy, and the Tiber is very -near the Via Macello." Franz felt a shudder run through his -veins at observing that the feeling of the duke and the -countess was so much in unison with his own personal -disquietude. "I informed them at the hotel that I had the -honor of passing the night here, duke," said Franz, "and -desired them to come and inform me of his return." -"Ah," replied the duke, "here I think, is one of my servants -who is seeking you." -The duke was not mistaken when he saw Franz, the servant -came up to him. "Your excellency," he said, "the master of -the Hotel de Londres has sent to let you know that a man is -waiting for you with a letter from the Viscount of Morcerf." -"A letter from the viscount" exclaimed Franz. -"Yes." -"And who is the man?" -"I do not know." -"Why did he not bring it to me here?" -"The messenger did not say." -"And where is the messenger?" -"He went away directly he saw me enter the ballroom to find -you." -"Oh," said the countess to Franz, "go with all speed poor -young man Perhaps some accident has happened to him." -"I will hasten," replied Franz. -"Shall we see you again to give us any information?" -inquired the countess. -"Yes, if it is not any serious affair, otherwise I cannot -answer as to what I may do myself." -"Be prudent, in any event," said the countess. -"Oh, pray be assured of that." Franz took his hat and went -away in haste. He had sent away his carriage with orders for -it to fetch him at two o'clock fortunately the Palazzo -Bracciano, which is on one side in the Corso, and on the -other in the Square of the Holy Apostles, is hardly ten -minutes' walk from the Hotel de Londres. As he came near the -hotel, Franz saw a man in the middle of the street. He had -no doubt that it was the messenger from Albert. The man was -wrapped up in a large cloak. He went up to him, but, to his -extreme astonishment, the stranger first addressed him. -"What wants your excellency of me?" inquired the man, -retreating a step or two, as if to keep on his guard. -"Are not you the person who brought me a letter," inquired -Franz, "from the Viscount of Morcerf?" -"Your excellency lodges at Pastrini's hotel?" -"I do." -"Your excellency is the travelling companion of the -viscount?" -"I am." -"Your excellency's name" -"Is the Baron Franz d'Epinay." -"Then it is to your excellency that this letter is -addressed." -"Is there any answer?" inquired Franz, taking the letter -from him. -"Yes your friend at least hopes so." -"Come upstairs with me, and I will give it to you." -"I prefer waiting here," said the messenger, with a smile. -"And why?" -"Your excellency will know when you have read the letter." -"Shall I find you here, then?" -"Certainly." -Franz entered the hotel. On the staircase he met Signor -Pastrini. "Well?" said the landlord. -"Well what?" responded Franz. -"You have seen the man who desired to speak with you from -your friend?" he asked of Franz. -"Yes, I have seen him," he replied, "and he has handed this -letter to me. Light the candles in my apartment, if you -please." The innkeeper gave orders to a servant to go -before Franz with a light. The young man had found Signor -Pastrini looking very much alarmed, and this had only made -him the more anxious to read Albert's letter and so he went -instantly towards the waxlight, and unfolded it. It was -written and signed by Albert. Franz read it twice before he -could comprehend what it contained. It was thus worded -My Dear Fellow, The moment you have received this, have -the kindness to take the letter of credit from my -pocketbook, which you will find in the square drawer of the -secretary add your own to it, if it be not sufficient. Run -to Torlonia, draw from him instantly four thousand piastres, -and give them to the bearer. It is urgent that I should have -this money without delay. I do not say more, relying on you -as you may rely on me. Your friend, -Albert de Morcerf. -P.S. I now believe in Italian banditti. -Below these lines were written, in a strange hand, the -following in Italian -Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono -nelle mie mani, alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di -vivere. -Luigi Vampa. -"If by six in the morning the four thousand piastres are not -in my hands, by seven o'clock the Count Albert will have -ceased to live." -This second signature explained everything to Franz, who now -understood the objection of the messenger to coming up into -the apartment the street was safer for him. Albert, then, -had fallen into the hands of the famous bandit chief, in -whose existence he had for so long a time refused to -believe. There was no time to lose. He hastened to open the -secretary, and found the pocketbook in the drawer, and in -it the letter of credit. There were in all six thousand -piastres, but of these six thousand Albert had already -expended three thousand. As to Franz, he had no letter of -credit, as he lived at Florence, and had only come to Rome -to pass seven or eight days he had brought but a hundred -louis, and of these he had not more than fifty left. Thus -seven or eight hundred piastres were wanting to them both to -make up the sum that Albert required. True, he might in such -a case rely on the kindness of Signor Torlonia. He was, -therefore, about to return to the Palazzo Bracciano without -loss of time, when suddenly a luminous idea crossed his -mind. He remembered the Count of Monte Cristo. Franz was -about to ring for Signor Pastrini, when that worthy -presented himself. "My dear sir," he said, hastily, "do you -know if the count is within?" -"Yes, your excellency he has this moment returned." -"Is he in bed?" -"I should say no." -"Then ring at his door, if you please, and request him to be -so kind as to give me an audience." Signor Pastrini did as -he was desired, and returning five minutes after, he said, -"The count awaits your excellency." Franz went along the -corridor, and a servant introduced him to the count. He was -in a small room which Franz had not yet seen, and which was -surrounded with divans. The count came towards him. "Well, -what good wind blows you hither at this hour?" said he -"have you come to sup with me? It would be very kind of -you." -"No I have come to speak to you of a very serious matter." -"A serious matter," said the count, looking at Franz with -the earnestness usual to him "and what may it be?" -"Are we alone?" -"Yes," replied the count, going to the door, and returning. -Franz gave him Albert's letter. "Read that," he said. The -count read it. -"Well, well" said he. -"Did you see the postscript?" -"I did, indeed. -""Se alle sei della mattina le quattro mile piastre non sono -nelle mie mani, alla sette il conte Alberto avra cessato di -vivere. -""Luigi Vampa.'" -"What think you of that?" inquired Franz. -"Have you the money he demands?" -"Yes, all but eight hundred piastres." The count went to his -secretary, opened it, and pulling out a drawer filled with -gold, said to Franz, "I hope you will not offend me by -applying to any one but myself." -"You see, on the contrary, I come to you first and -instantly," replied Franz. -"And I thank you have what you will" and he made a sign to -Franz to take what he pleased. -"Is it absolutely necessary, then, to send the money to -Luigi Vampa?" asked the young man, looking fixedly in his -turn at the count. -"Judge for yourself," replied he. "The postscript is -explicit." -"I think that if you would take the trouble of reflecting, -you could find a way of simplifying the negotiation," said -Franz. -"How so?" returned the count, with surprise. -"If we were to go together to Luigi Vampa, I am sure he -would not refuse you Albert's freedom." -"What influence can I possibly have over a bandit?" -"Have you not just rendered him a service that can never be -forgotten?" -"What is that?" -"Have you not saved Peppino's life?" -"Well, well," said the count, "who told you that?" -"No matter I know it." The count knit his brows, and -remained silent an instant. "And if I went to seek Vampa, -would you accompany me?" -"If my society would not be disagreeable." -"Be it so. It is a lovely night, and a walk without Rome -will do us both good." -"Shall I take any arms?" -"For what purpose?" -"Any money?" -"It is useless. Where is the man who brought the letter?" -"In the street." -"He awaits the answer?" -"Yes." -"I must learn where we are going. I will summon him hither." -"It is useless he would not come up." -"To your apartments, perhaps but he will not make any -difficulty at entering mine." The count went to the window -of the apartment that looked on to the street, and whistled -in a peculiar manner. The man in the mantle quitted the -wall, and advanced into the middle of the street. "Salite" -said the count, in the same tone in which he would have -given an order to his servant. The messenger obeyed without -the least hesitation, but rather with alacrity, and, -mounting the steps at a bound, entered the hotel five -seconds afterwards he was at the door of the room. "Ah, it -is you, Peppino," said the count. But Peppino, instead of -answering, threw himself on his knees, seized the count's -hand, and covered it with kisses. "Ah," said the count, "you -have, then, not forgotten that I saved your life that is -strange, for it is a week ago." -"No, excellency and never shall I forget it," returned -Peppino, with an accent of profound gratitude. -"Never? That is a long time but it is something that you -believe so. Rise and answer." Peppino glanced anxiously at -Franz. "Oh, you may speak before his excellency," said he -"he is one of my friends. You allow me to give you this -title?" continued the count in French, "it is necessary to -excite this man's confidence." -"You can speak before me," said Franz "I am a friend of the -count's." -"Good" returned Peppino. "I am ready to answer any -questions your excellency may address to me." -"How did the Viscount Albert fall into Luigi's hands?" -"Excellency, the Frenchman's carriage passed several times -the one in which was Teresa." -"The chief's mistress?" -"Yes. The Frenchman threw her a bouquet Teresa returned it -all this with the consent of the chief, who was in the -carriage." -"What?" cried Franz, "was Luigi Vampa in the carriage with -the Roman peasants?" -"It was he who drove, disguised as the coachman," replied -Peppino. -"Well?" said the count. -"Well, then, the Frenchman took off his mask Teresa, with -the chief's consent, did the same. The Frenchman asked for a -rendezvous Teresa gave him one only, instead of Teresa, -it was Beppo who was on the steps of the church of San -Giacomo." -"What" exclaimed Franz, "the peasant girl who snatched his -mocoletto from him" -"Was a lad of fifteen," replied Peppino. "But it was no -disgrace to your friend to have been deceived Beppo has -taken in plenty of others." -"And Beppo led him outside the walls?" said the count. -"Exactly so a carriage was waiting at the end of the Via -Macello. Beppo got in, inviting the Frenchman to follow him, -and he did not wait to be asked twice. He gallantly offered -the righthand seat to Beppo, and sat by him. Beppo told him -he was going to take him to a villa a league from Rome the -Frenchman assured him he would follow him to the end of the -world. The coachman went up the Via di Ripetta and the Porta -San Paola and when they were two hundred yards outside, as -the Frenchman became somewhat too forward, Beppo put a brace -of pistols to his head, the coachman pulled up and did the -same. At the same time, four of the band, who were concealed -on the banks of the Almo, surrounded the carriage. The -Frenchman made some resistance, and nearly strangled Beppo -but he could not resist five armed men, and was forced to -yield. They made him get out, walk along the banks of the -river, and then brought him to Teresa and Luigi, who were -waiting for him in the catacombs of St. Sebastian." -"Well," said the count, turning towards Franz, "it seems to -me that this is a very likely story. What do you say to it?" -"Why, that I should think it very amusing," replied Franz, -"if it had happened to any one but poor Albert." -"And, in truth, if you had not found me here," said the -count, "it might have proved a gallant adventure which would -have cost your friend dear but now, be assured, his alarm -will be the only serious consequence." -"And shall we go and find him?" inquired Franz. -"Oh, decidedly, sir. He is in a very picturesque place do -you know the catacombs of St. Sebastian?" -"I was never in them but I have often resolved to visit -them." -"Well, here is an opportunity made to your hand, and it -would be difficult to contrive a better. Have you a -carriage?" -"No." -"That is of no consequence I always have one ready, day and -night." -"Always ready?" -"Yes. I am a very capricious being, and I should tell you -that sometimes when I rise, or after my dinner, or in the -middle of the night, I resolve on starting for some -particular point, and away I go." The count rang, and a -footman appeared. "Order out the carriage," he said, "and -remove the pistols which are in the holsters. You need not -awaken the coachman Ali will drive." In a very short time -the noise of wheels was heard, and the carriage stopped at -the door. The count took out his watch. "Halfpast twelve," -he said. "We might start at five o'clock and be in time, but -the delay may cause your friend to pass an uneasy night, and -therefore we had better go with all speed to extricate him -from the hands of the infidels. Are you still resolved to -accompany me?" -"More determined than ever." -"Well, then, come along." -Franz and the count went downstairs, accompanied by Peppino. -At the door they found the carriage. Ali was on the box, in -whom Franz recognized the dumb slave of the grotto of Monte -Cristo. Franz and the count got into the carriage. Peppino -placed himself beside Ali, and they set off at a rapid pace. -Ali had received his instructions, and went down the Corso, -crossed the Campo Vaccino, went up the Strada San Gregorio, -and reached the gates of St. Sebastian. Then the porter -raised some difficulties, but the Count of Monte Cristo -produced a permit from the governor of Rome, allowing him to -leave or enter the city at any hour of the day or night the -portcullis was therefore raised, the porter had a louis for -his trouble, and they went on their way. The road which the -carriage now traversed was the ancient Appian Way, and -bordered with tombs. From time to time, by the light of the -moon, which began to rise, Franz imagined that he saw -something like a sentinel appear at various points among the -ruins, and suddenly retreat into the darkness on a signal -from Peppino. A short time before they reached the Baths of -Caracalla the carriage stopped, Peppino opened the door, and -the count and Franz alighted. -"In ten minutes," said the count to his companion, "we shall -be there." -He then took Peppino aside, gave him an order in a low -voice, and Peppino went away, taking with him a torch, -brought with them in the carriage. Five minutes elapsed, -during which Franz saw the shepherd going along a narrow -path that led over the irregular and broken surface of the -Campagna and finally he disappeared in the midst of the -tall red herbage, which seemed like the bristling mane of an -enormous lion. "Now," said the count, "let us follow him." -Franz and the count in their turn then advanced along the -same path, which, at the distance of a hundred paces, led -them over a declivity to the bottom of a small valley. They -then perceived two men conversing in the obscurity. "Ought -we to go on?" asked Franz of the count "or shall we wait -awhile?" -"Let us go on Peppino will have warned the sentry of our -coming." One of the two men was Peppino, and the other a -bandit on the lookout. Franz and the count advanced, and the -bandit saluted them. "Your excellency," said Peppino, -addressing the count, "if you will follow me, the opening of -the catacombs is close at hand." -"Go on, then," replied the count. They came to an opening -behind a clump of bushes and in the midst of a pile of -rocks, by which a man could scarcely pass. Peppino glided -first into this crevice after they got along a few paces -the passage widened. Peppino passed, lighted his torch, and -turned to see if they came after him. The count first -reached an open space and Franz followed him closely. The -passageway sloped in a gentle descent, enlarging as they -proceeded still Franz and the count were compelled to -advance in a stooping posture, and were scarcely able to -proceed abreast of one another. They went on a hundred and -fifty paces in this way, and then were stopped by, "Who -comes there?" At the same time they saw the reflection of a -torch on a carbine barrel. -"A friend" responded Peppino and, advancing alone towards -the sentry, he said a few words to him in a low tone and -then he, like the first, saluted the nocturnal visitors, -making a sign that they might proceed. -Behind the sentinel was a staircase with twenty steps. Franz -and the count descended these, and found themselves in a -mortuary chamber. Five corridors diverged like the rays of a -star, and the walls, dug into niches, which were arranged -one above the other in the shape of coffins, showed that -they were at last in the catacombs. Down one of the -corridors, whose extent it was impossible to determine, rays -of light were visible. The count laid his hand on Franz's -shoulder. "Would you like to see a camp of bandits in -repose?" he inquired. -"Exceedingly," replied Franz. -"Come with me, then. Peppino, put out the torch." Peppino -obeyed, and Franz and the count were in utter darkness, -except that fifty paces in advance of them a reddish glare, -more evident since Peppino had put out his torch, was -visible along the wall. They advanced silently, the count -guiding Franz as if he had the singular faculty of seeing in -the dark. Franz himself, however, saw his way more plainly -in proportion as he went on towards the light, which served -in some manner as a guide. Three arcades were before them, -and the middle one was used as a door. These arcades opened -on one side into the corridor where the count and Franz -were, and on the other into a large square chamber, entirely -surrounded by niches similar to those of which we have -spoken. In the midst of this chamber were four stones, which -had formerly served as an altar, as was evident from the -cross which still surmounted them. A lamp, placed at the -base of a pillar, lighted up with its pale and flickering -flame the singular scene which presented itself to the eyes -of the two visitors concealed in the shadow. A man was -seated with his elbow leaning on the column, and was reading -with his back turned to the arcades, through the openings of -which the newcomers contemplated him. This was the chief of -the band, Luigi Vampa. Around him, and in groups, according -to their fancy, lying in their mantles, or with their backs -against a sort of stone bench, which went all round the -columbarium, were to be seen twenty brigands or more, each -having his carbine within reach. At the other end, silent, -scarcely visible, and like a shadow, was a sentinel, who was -walking up and down before a grotto, which was only -distinguishable because in that spot the darkness seemed -more dense than elsewhere. When the count thought Franz had -gazed sufficiently on this picturesque tableau, he raised -his finger to his lips, to warn him to be silent, and, -ascending the three steps which led to the corridor of the -columbarium, entered the chamber by the middle arcade, and -advanced towards Vampa, who was so intent on the book before -him that he did not hear the noise of his footsteps. -"Who comes there?" cried the sentinel, who was less -abstracted, and who saw by the lamplight a shadow -approaching his chief. At this challenge, Vampa rose -quickly, drawing at the same moment a pistol from his -girdle. In a moment all the bandits were on their feet, and -twenty carbines were levelled at the count. "Well," said he -in a voice perfectly calm, and no muscle of his countenance -disturbed, "well, my dear Vampa, it appears to me that you -receive a friend with a great deal of ceremony." -"Ground arms," exclaimed the chief, with an imperative sign -of the hand, while with the other he took off his hat -respectfully then, turning to the singular personage who -had caused this scene, he said, "Your pardon, your -excellency, but I was so far from expecting the honor of a -visit, that I did not really recognize you." -"It seems that your memory is equally short in everything, -Vampa," said the count, "and that not only do you forget -people's faces, but also the conditions you make with them." -"What conditions have I forgotten, your excellency?" -inquired the bandit, with the air of a man who, having -committed an error, is anxious to repair it. -"Was it not agreed," asked the count, "that not only my -person, but also that of my friends, should be respected by -you?" -"And how have I broken that treaty, your excellency?" -"You have this evening carried off and conveyed hither the -Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. Well," continued the count, in a -tone that made Franz shudder, "this young gentleman is one -of my friends this young gentleman lodges in the same -hotel as myself this young gentleman has been up and down -the Corso for eight hours in my private carriage, and yet, I -repeat to you, you have carried him off, and conveyed him -hither, and," added the count, taking the letter from his -pocket, "you have set a ransom on him, as if he were an -utter stranger." -"Why did you not tell me all this you?" inquired the -brigand chief, turning towards his men, who all retreated -before his look. "Why have you caused me thus to fail in my -word towards a gentleman like the count, who has all our -lives in his hands? By heavens, if I thought one of you knew -that the young gentleman was the friend of his excellency, I -would blow his brains out with my own hand" -"Well," said the count, turning towards Franz, "I told you -there was some mistake in this." -"Are you not alone?" asked Vampa with uneasiness. -"I am with the person to whom this letter was addressed, and -to whom I desired to prove that Luigi Vampa was a man of his -word. Come, your excellency," the count added, turning to -Franz, "here is Luigi Vampa, who will himself express to you -his deep regret at the mistake he has committed." Franz -approached, the chief advancing several steps to meet him. -"Welcome among us, your excellency," he said to him "you -heard what the count just said, and also my reply let me -add that I would not for the four thousand piastres at which -I had fixed your friend's ransom, that this had happened." -"But," said Franz, looking round him uneasily, "where is the -Viscount? I do not see him." -"Nothing has happened to him, I hope," said the count -frowningly. -"The prisoner is there," replied Vampa, pointing to the -hollow space in front of which the bandit was on guard, "and -I will go myself and tell him he is free." The chief went -towards the place he had pointed out as Albert's prison, and -Franz and the count followed him. "What is the prisoner -doing?" inquired Vampa of the sentinel. -"Ma foi, captain," replied the sentry, "I do not know for -the last hour I have not heard him stir." -"Come in, your excellency," said Vampa. The count and Franz -ascended seven or eight steps after the chief, who drew back -a bolt and opened a door. Then, by the gleam of a lamp, -similar to that which lighted the columbarium, Albert was to -be seen wrapped up in a cloak which one of the bandits had -lent him, lying in a corner in profound slumber. "Come," -said the count, smiling with his own peculiar smile, "not so -bad for a man who is to be shot at seven o'clock tomorrow -morning." Vampa looked at Albert with a kind of admiration -he was not insensible to such a proof of courage. -"You are right, your excellency," he said "this must be one -of your friends." Then going to Albert, he touched him on -the shoulder, saying, "Will your excellency please to -awaken?" Albert stretched out his arms, rubbed his eyelids, -and opened his eyes. "Oh," said he, "is it you, captain? You -should have allowed me to sleep. I had such a delightful -dream. I was dancing the galop at Torlonia's with the -Countess G ." Then he drew his watch from his pocket, -that he might see how time sped. -"Halfpast one only?" said he. "Why the devil do you rouse -me at this hour?" -"To tell you that you are free, your excellency." -"My dear fellow," replied Albert, with perfect ease of mind, -"remember, for the future, Napoleon's maxim, "Never awaken -me but for bad news' if you had let me sleep on, I should -have finished my galop, and have been grateful to you all my -life. So, then, they have paid my ransom?" -"No, your excellency." -"Well, then, how am I free?" -"A person to whom I can refuse nothing has come to demand -you." -"Come hither?" -"Yes, hither." -"Really? Then that person is a most amiable person." Albert -looked around and perceived Franz. "What," said he, "is it -you, my dear Franz, whose devotion and friendship are thus -displayed?" -"No, not I," replied Franz, "but our neighbor, the Count of -Monte Cristo." -"Oh. my dear count." said Albert gayly, arranging his cravat -and wristbands, "you are really most kind, and I hope you -will consider me as under eternal obligations to you, in the -first place for the carriage, and in the next for this -visit," and he put out his hand to the Count, who shuddered -as he gave his own, but who nevertheless did give it. The -bandit gazed on this scene with amazement he was evidently -accustomed to see his prisoners tremble before him, and yet -here was one whose gay temperament was not for a moment -altered as for Franz, he was enchanted at the way in which -Albert had sustained the national honor in the presence of -the bandit. "My dear Albert," he said, "if you will make -haste, we shall yet have time to finish the night at -Torlonia's. You may conclude your interrupted galop, so that -you will owe no illwill to Signor Luigi, who has, indeed, -throughout this whole affair acted like a gentleman." -"You are decidedly right, and we may reach the Palazzo by -two o'clock. Signor Luigi," continued Albert, "is there any -formality to fulfil before I take leave of your excellency?" -"None, sir," replied the bandit, "you are as free as air." -"Well, then, a happy and merry life to you. Come, gentlemen, -come." -And Albert, followed by Franz and the count, descended the -staircase, crossed the square chamber, where stood all the -bandits, hat in hand. "Peppino," said the brigand chief, -"give me the torch." -"What are you going to do?" inquired the count. -"I will show you the way back myself," said the captain -"that is the least honor that I can render to your -excellency." And taking the lighted torch from the hands of -the herdsman, he preceded his guests, not as a servant who -performs an act of civility, but like a king who precedes -ambassadors. On reaching the door, he bowed. "And now, your -excellency," added he, "allow me to repeat my apologies, and -I hope you will not entertain any resentment at what has -occurred." -"No, my dear Vampa," replied the count "besides, you -compensate for your mistakes in so gentlemanly a way, that -one almost feels obliged to you for having committed them." -"Gentlemen," added the chief, turning towards the young men, -"perhaps the offer may not appear very tempting to you but -if you should ever feel inclined to pay me a second visit, -wherever I may be, you shall be welcome." Franz and Albert -bowed. The count went out first, then Albert. Franz paused -for a moment. "Has your excellency anything to ask me?" said -Vampa with a smile. -"Yes, I have," replied Franz "I am curious to know what -work you were perusing with so much attention as we -entered." -"Caesar's "Commentaries,'" said the bandit, "it is my -favorite work." -"Well, are you coming?" asked Albert. -"Yes," replied Franz, "here I am," and he, in his turn, left -the caves. They advanced to the plain. "Ah, your pardon," -said Albert, turning round "will you allow me, captain?" -And he lighted his cigar at Vampa's torch. "Now, my dear -count," he said, "let us on with all the speed we may. I am -enormously anxious to finish my night at the Duke of -Bracciano's." They found the carriage where they had left -it. The count said a word in Arabic to Ali, and the horses -went on at great speed. It was just two o'clock by Albert's -watch when the two friends entered into the dancingroom. -Their return was quite an event, but as they entered -together, all uneasiness on Albert's account ceased -instantly. "Madame," said the Viscount of Morcerf, advancing -towards the countess, "yesterday you were so condescending -as to promise me a galop I am rather late in claiming this -gracious promise, but here is my friend, whose character for -veracity you well know, and he will assure you the delay -arose from no fault of mine." And as at this moment the -orchestra gave the signal for the waltz, Albert put his arm -round the waist of the countess, and disappeared with her in -the whirl of dancers. In the meanwhile Franz was considering -the singular shudder that had passed over the Count of Monte -Cristo at the moment when he had been, in some sort, forced -to give his hand to Albert. -Chapter -The Compact. -The first words that Albert uttered to his friend, on the -following morning, contained a request that Franz would -accompany him on a visit to the count true, the young man -had warmly and energetically thanked the count on the -previous evening but services such as he had rendered could -never be too often acknowledged. Franz, who seemed attracted -by some invisible influence towards the count, in which -terror was strangely mingled, felt an extreme reluctance to -permit his friend to be exposed alone to the singular -fascination that this mysterious personage seemed to -exercise over him, and therefore made no objection to -Albert's request, but at once accompanied him to the desired -spot, and, after a short delay, the count joined them in the -salon. "My dear count," said Albert, advancing to meet him, -"permit me to repeat the poor thanks I offered last night, -and to assure you that the remembrance of all I owe to you -will never be effaced from my memory believe me, as long as -I live, I shall never cease to dwell with grateful -recollection on the prompt and important service you -rendered me and also to remember that to you I am indebted -even for my life." -"My very good friend and excellent neighbor," replied the -count, with a smile, "you really exaggerate my trifling -exertions. You owe me nothing but some trifle of , -francs, which you have been saved out of your travelling -expenses, so that there is not much of a score between us -but you must really permit me to congratulate you on the -ease and unconcern with which you resigned yourself to your -fate, and the perfect indifference you manifested as to the -turn events might take." -"Upon my word," said Albert, "I deserve no credit for what I -could not help, namely, a determination to take everything -as I found it, and to let those bandits see, that although -men get into troublesome scrapes all over the world, there -is no nation but the French that can smile even in the face -of grim Death himself. All that, however, has nothing to do -with my obligations to you, and I now come to ask you -whether, in my own person, my family, or connections, I can -in any way serve you? My father, the Comte de Morcerf, -although of Spanish origin, possesses considerable -influence, both at the court of France and Madrid, and I -unhesitatingly place the best services of myself, and all to -whom my life is dear, at your disposal." -"Monsieur de Morcerf," replied the count, "your offer, far -from surprising me, is precisely what I expected from you, -and I accept it in the same spirit of hearty sincerity with -which it is made nay, I will go still further, and say -that I had previously made up my mind to ask a great favor -at your hands." -"Oh, pray name it." -"I am wholly a stranger to Paris it is a city I have -never yet seen." -"Is it possible," exclaimed Albert, "that you have reached -your present age without visiting the finest capital in the -world? I can scarcely credit it." -"Nevertheless, it is quite true still, I agree with you in -thinking that my present ignorance of the first city in -Europe is a reproach to me in every way, and calls for -immediate correction but, in all probability, I should have -performed so important, so necessary a duty, as that of -making myself acquainted with the wonders and beauties of -your justly celebrated capital, had I known any person who -would have introduced me into the fashionable world, but -unfortunately I possessed no acquaintance there, and, of -necessity, was compelled to abandon the idea." -"So distinguished an individual as yourself," cried Albert, -"could scarcely have required an introduction." -"You are most kind but as regards myself, I can find no -merit I possess, save that, as a millionaire, I might have -become a partner in the speculations of M. Aguado and M. -Rothschild but as my motive in travelling to your capital -would not have been for the pleasure of dabbling in stocks, -I stayed away till some favorable chance should present -itself of carrying my wish into execution. Your offer, -however, smooths all difficulties, and I have only to ask -you, my dear M. de Morcerf" these words were accompanied by -a most peculiar smile, "whether you undertake, upon my -arrival in France, to open to me the doors of that -fashionable world of which I know no more than a Huron or a -native of CochinChina?" -"Oh, that I do, and with infinite pleasure," answered -Albert "and so much the more readily as a letter received -this morning from my father summons me to Paris, in -consequence of a treaty of marriage my dear Franz, do not -smile, I beg of you with a family of high standing, and -connected with the very cream of Parisian society." -"Connected by marriage, you mean," said Franz, laughingly. -"Well, never mind how it is," answered Albert, "it comes to -the same thing in the end. Perhaps by the time you return to -Paris, I shall be quite a sober, staid father of a family A -most edifying representative I shall make of all the -domestic virtues don't you think so? But as regards your -wish to visit our fine city, my dear count, I can only say -that you may command me and mine to any extent you please." -"Then it is settled," said the count, "and I give you my -solemn assurance that I only waited an opportunity like the -present to realize plans that I have long meditated." Franz -did not doubt that these plans were the same concerning -which the count had dropped a few words in the grotto of -Monte Cristo, and while the Count was speaking the young man -watched him closely, hoping to read something of his purpose -in his face, but his countenance was inscrutable especially -when, as in the present case, it was veiled in a sphinxlike -smile. "But tell me now, count," exclaimed Albert, delighted -at the idea of having to chaperon so distinguished a person -as Monte Cristo "tell me truly whether you are in earnest, -or if this project of visiting Paris is merely one of the -chimerical and uncertain air castles of which we make so -many in the course of our lives, but which, like a house -built on the sand, is liable to be blown over by the first -puff of wind?" -"I pledge you my honor," returned the count, "that I mean to -do as I have said both inclination and positive necessity -compel me to visit Paris." -"When do you propose going thither?" -"Have you made up your mind when you shall be there -yourself?" -"Certainly I have in a fortnight or three weeks' time, that -is to say, as fast as I can get there" -"Nay," said the Count "I will give you three months ere I -join you you see I make an ample allowance for all delays -and difficulties. -"And in three months' time," said Albert, "you will be at my -house?" -"Shall we make a positive appointment for a particular day -and hour?" inquired the count "only let me warn you that I -am proverbial for my punctilious exactitude in keeping my -engagements." -"Day for day, hour for hour," said Albert "that will suit -me to a dot." -"So be it, then," replied the count, and extending his hand -towards a calendar, suspended near the chimneypiece, he -said, "today is the st of February" and drawing out his -watch, added, "it is exactly halfpast ten o'clock. Now -promise me to remember this, and expect me the st of May -at the same hour in the forenoon." -"Capital," exclaimed Albert "your breakfast shall be -waiting." -"Where do you live?" -"No. , Rue du Helder." -"Have you bachelor's apartments there? I hope my coming will -not put you to any inconvenience." -"I reside in my father's house, but occupy a pavilion at the -farther side of the courtyard, entirely separated from the -main building." -"Quite sufficient," replied the count, as, taking out his -tablets, he wrote down "No. , Rue du Helder, st May, -halfpast ten in the morning." -"Now then," said the count, returning his tablets to his -pocket, "make yourself perfectly easy the hand of your -timepiece will not be more accurate in marking the time -than myself." -"Shall I see you again ere my departure?" asked Albert. -"That depends when do you leave?" -"Tomorrow evening, at five o'clock." -"In that case I must say adieu to you, as I am compelled to -go to Naples, and shall not return hither before Saturday -evening or Sunday morning. And you, baron," pursued the -count, addressing Franz, "do you also depart tomorrow?" -"Yes." -"For France?" -"No, for Venice I shall remain in Italy for another year or -two." -"Then we shall not meet in Paris?" -"I fear I shall not have that honor." -"Well, since we must part," said the count, holding out a -hand to each of the young men, "allow me to wish you both a -safe and pleasant journey." It was the first time the hand -of Franz had come in contact with that of the mysterious -individual before him, and unconsciously he shuddered at its -touch, for it felt cold and icy as that of a corpse. "Let us -understand each other," said Albert "it is agreed is it -not? that you are to be at No. , in the Rue du Helder, -on the st of May, at halfpast ten in the morning, and -your word of honor passed for your punctuality?" -"The st of May, at halfpast ten in the morning, Rue du -Helder, No. ," replied the Count. The young men then rose, -and bowing to the count, quitted the room. "What is the -matter?" asked Albert of Franz, when they had returned to -their own apartments "you seem more than commonly -thoughtful." -"I will confess to you, Albert," replied Franz, "the count -is a very singular person, and the appointment you have made -to meet him in Paris fills me with a thousand -apprehensions." -"My dear fellow," exclaimed Albert, "what can there possibly -be in that to excite uneasiness? Why, you must have lost -your senses." -"Whether I am in my senses or not," answered Franz, "that is -the way I feel." -"Listen to me, Franz," said Albert "I am glad that the -occasion has presented itself for saying this to you, for I -have noticed how cold you are in your bearing towards the -count, while he, on the other hand, has always been courtesy -itself to us. Have you anything particular against him?" -"Possibly." -"Did you ever meet him previously to coming hither?" -"I have." -"And where?" -"Will you promise me not to repeat a single word of what I -am about to tell you?" -"I promise." -"Upon your honor?" -"Upon my honor." -"Then listen to me." Franz then related to his friend the -history of his excursion to the Island of Monte Cristo and -of his finding a party of smugglers there, and the two -Corsican bandits with them. He dwelt with considerable force -and energy on the almost magical hospitality he had received -from the count, and the magnificence of his entertainment in -the grotto of the "Thousand and One Nights." He recounted, -with circumstantial exactitude, all the particulars of the -supper, the hashish, the statues, the dream, and how, at his -awakening, there remained no proof or trace of all these -events, save the small yacht, seen in the distant horizon -driving under full sail toward PortoVecchio. Then he -detailed the conversation overheard by him at the Colosseum, -between the count and Vampa, in which the count had promised -to obtain the release of the bandit Peppino, an -engagement which, as our readers are aware, he most -faithfully fulfilled. At last he arrived at the adventure of -the preceding night, and the embarrassment in which he found -himself placed by not having sufficient cash by six or seven -hundred piastres to make up the sum required, and finally of -his application to the count and the picturesque and -satisfactory result that followed. Albert listened with the -most profound attention. "Well," said he, when Franz had -concluded, "what do you find to object to in all you have -related? The count is fond of travelling, and, being rich, -possesses a vessel of his own. Go but to Portsmouth or -Southampton, and you will find the harbors crowded with the -yachts belonging to such of the English as can afford the -expense, and have the same liking for this amusement. Now, -by way of having a restingplace during his excursions, -avoiding the wretched cookery which has been trying its -best to poison me during the last four months, while you -have manfully resisted its effects for as many years, and -obtaining a bed on which it is possible to slumber, Monte -Cristo has furnished for himself a temporary abode where you -first found him but, to prevent the possibility of the -Tuscan government taking a fancy to his enchanted palace, -and thereby depriving him of the advantages naturally -expected from so large an outlay of capital, he has wisely -enough purchased the island, and taken its name. Just ask -yourself, my good fellow, whether there are not many persons -of our acquaintance who assume the names of lands and -properties they never in their lives were masters of?" -"But," said Franz, "the Corsican bandits that were among the -crew of his vessel?" -"Why, really the thing seems to me simple enough. Nobody -knows better than yourself that the bandits of Corsica are -not rogues or thieves, but purely and simply fugitives, -driven by some sinister motive from their native town or -village, and that their fellowship involves no disgrace or -stigma for my own part, I protest that, should I ever go to -Corsica, my first visit, ere even I presented myself to the -mayor or prefect, should be to the bandits of Colomba, if I -could only manage to find them for, on my conscience, they -are a race of men I admire greatly." -"Still," persisted Franz, "I suppose you will allow that -such men as Vampa and his band are regular villains, who -have no other motive than plunder when they seize your -person. How do you explain the influence the count evidently -possessed over those ruffians?" -"My good friend, as in all probability I own my present -safety to that influence, it would ill become me to search -too closely into its source therefore, instead of -condemning him for his intimacy with outlaws, you must give -me leave to excuse any little irregularity there may be in -such a connection not altogether for preserving my life, -for my own idea was that it never was in much danger, but -certainly for saving me , piastres, which, being -translated, means neither more nor less than , livres -of our money a sum at which, most assuredly, I should -never have been estimated in France, proving most -indisputably," added Albert with a laugh, "that no prophet -is honored in his own country." -"Talking of countries," replied Franz, "of what country is -the count, what is his native tongue, whence does he derive -his immense fortune, and what were those events of his early -life a life as marvellous as unknown that have -tinctured his succeeding years with so dark and gloomy a -misanthropy? Certainly these are questions that, in your -place, I should like to have answered." -"My dear Franz," replied Albert, "when, upon receipt of my -letter, you found the necessity of asking the count's -assistance, you promptly went to him, saying, "My friend -Albert de Morcerf is in danger help me to deliver him.' Was -not that nearly what you said?" -"It was." -"Well, then, did he ask you, "Who is M. Albert de Morcerf? -how does he come by his name his fortune? what are his -means of existence? what is his birthplace of what country -is he a native?' Tell me, did he put all these questions to -you?" -"I confess he asked me none." -"No he merely came and freed me from the hands of Signor -Vampa, where, I can assure you, in spite of all my outward -appearance of ease and unconcern, I did not very -particularly care to remain. Now, then, Franz, when, for -services so promptly and unhesitatingly rendered, he but -asks me in return to do for him what is done daily for any -Russian prince or Italian nobleman who may pass through -Paris merely to introduce him into society would you -have me refuse? My good fellow, you must have lost your -senses to think it possible I could act with such -coldblooded policy." And this time it must be confessed -that, contrary to the usual state of affairs in discussions -between the young men, the effective arguments were all on -Albert's side. -"Well," said Franz with a sigh, "do as you please my dear -viscount, for your arguments are beyond my powers of -refutation. Still, in spite of all, you must admit that this -Count of Monte Cristo is a most singular personage." -"He is a philanthropist," answered the other "and no doubt -his motive in visiting Paris is to compete for the Monthyon -prize, given, as you are aware, to whoever shall be proved -to have most materially advanced the interests of virtue and -humanity. If my vote and interest can obtain it for him, I -will readily give him the one and promise the other. And -now, my dear Franz, let us talk of something else. Come, -shall we take our luncheon, and then pay a last visit to St. -Peter's?" Franz silently assented and the following -afternoon, at halfpast five o'clock, the young men parted. -Albert de Morcerf to return to Paris, and Franz d'Epinay to -pass a fortnight at Venice. But, ere he entered his -travelling carriage, Albert, fearing that his expected guest -might forget the engagement he had entered into, placed in -the care of a waiter at the hotel a card to be delivered to -the Count of Monte Cristo, on which, beneath the name of -Vicomte Albert de Morcerf, he had written in pencil ", -Rue du Helder, on the st May, halfpast ten A.M." -Chapter -The Guests. -In the house in the Rue du Helder, where Albert had invited -the Count of Monte Cristo, everything was being prepared on -the morning of the st of May to do honor to the occasion. -Albert de Morcerf inhabited a pavilion situated at the -corner of a large court, and directly opposite another -building, in which were the servants' apartments. Two -windows only of the pavilion faced the street three other -windows looked into the court, and two at the back into the -garden. Between the court and the garden, built in the heavy -style of the imperial architecture, was the large and -fashionable dwelling of the Count and Countess of Morcerf. A -high wall surrounded the whole of the hotel, surmounted at -intervals by vases filled with flowers, and broken in the -centre by a large gate of gilded iron, which served as the -carriage entrance. A small door, close to the lodge of the -concierge, gave ingress and egress to the servants and -masters when they were on foot. -It was easy to discover that the delicate care of a mother, -unwilling to part from her son, and yet aware that a young -man of the viscount's age required the full exercise of his -liberty, had chosen this habitation for Albert. There were -not lacking, however, evidences of what we may call the -intelligent egoism of a youth who is charmed with the -indolent, careless life of an only son, and who lives as it -were in a gilded cage. By means of the two windows looking -into the street, Albert could see all that passed the sight -of what is going on is necessary to young men, who always -want to see the world traverse their horizon, even if that -horizon is only a public thoroughfare. Then, should anything -appear to merit a more minute examination, Albert de Morcerf -could follow up his researches by means of a small gate, -similar to that close to the concierge's door, and which -merits a particular description. It was a little entrance -that seemed never to have been opened since the house was -built, so entirely was it covered with dust and dirt but -the welloiled hinges and locks told quite another story. -This door was a mockery to the concierge, from whose -vigilance and jurisdiction it was free, and, like that -famous portal in the "Arabian Nights," opening at the -"Sesame" of Ali Baba, it was wont to swing backward at a -cabalistic word or a concerted tap from without from the -sweetest voices or whitest fingers in the world. At the end -of a long corridor, with which the door communicated, and -which formed the antechamber, was, on the right, Albert's -breakfastroom, looking into the court, and on the left the -salon, looking into the garden. Shrubs and creeping plants -covered the windows, and hid from the garden and court these -two apartments, the only rooms into which, as they were on -the groundfloor, the prying eyes of the curious could -penetrate. On the floor above were similar rooms, with the -addition of a third, formed out of the antechamber these -three rooms were a salon, a boudoir, and a bedroom. The -salon downstairs was only an Algerian divan, for the use of -smokers. The boudoir upstairs communicated with the -bedchamber by an invisible door on the staircase it was -evident that every precaution had been taken. Above this -floor was a large atelier, which had been increased in size -by pulling down the partitions a pandemonium, in which -the artist and the dandy strove for preeminence. There were -collected and piled up all Albert's successive caprices, -huntinghorns, bassviols, flutes a whole orchestra, for -Albert had had not a taste but a fancy for music easels, -palettes, brushes, pencils for music had been succeeded -by painting foils, boxinggloves, broadswords, and -singlesticks for, following the example of the -fashionable young men of the time, Albert de Morcerf -cultivated, with far more perseverance than music and -drawing, the three arts that complete a dandy's education, -i.e., fencing, boxing, and singlestick and it was here -that he received Grisier, Cook, and Charles Leboucher. The -rest of the furniture of this privileged apartment consisted -of old cabinets, filled with Chinese porcelain and Japanese -vases, Lucca della Robbia faience, and Palissy platters of -old armchairs, in which perhaps had sat Henry IV. or Sully, -Louis XIII. or Richelieu for two of these armchairs, -adorned with a carved shield, on which were engraved the -fleurdelis of France on an azure field evidently came from -the Louvre, or, at least, some royal residence. Over these -dark and sombre chairs were thrown splendid stuffs, dyed -beneath Persia's sun, or woven by the fingers of the women -of Calcutta or of Chandernagor. What these stuffs did there, -it was impossible to say they awaited, while gratifying the -eyes, a destination unknown to their owner himself in the -meantime they filled the place with their golden and silky -reflections. In the centre of the room was a Roller and -Blanchet "baby grand" piano in rosewood, but holding the -potentialities of an orchestra in its narrow and sonorous -cavity, and groaning beneath the weight of the -chefsd'oeuvre of Beethoven, Weber, Mozart, Haydn, Gretry, -and Porpora. On the walls, over the doors, on the ceiling, -were swords, daggers, Malay creeses, maces, battleaxes -gilded, damasked, and inlaid suits of armor dried plants, -minerals, and stuffed birds, their flamecolored wings -outspread in motionless flight, and their beaks forever -open. This was Albert's favorite lounging place. -However, the morning of the appointment, the young man had -established himself in the small salon downstairs. There, -on a table, surrounded at some distance by a large and -luxurious divan, every species of tobacco known, from the -yellow tobacco of Petersburg to the black of Sinai, and so -on along the scale from Maryland and PortoRico, to Latakia, -was exposed in pots of crackled earthenware of which the -Dutch are so fond beside them, in boxes of fragrant wood, -were ranged, according to their size and quality, pueros, -regalias, havanas, and manillas and, in an open cabinet, a -collection of German pipes, of chibouques, with their amber -mouthpieces ornamented with coral, and of narghiles, with -their long tubes of morocco, awaiting the caprice or the -sympathy of the smokers. Albert had himself presided at the -arrangement, or, rather, the symmetrical derangement, which, -after coffee, the guests at a breakfast of modern days love -to contemplate through the vapor that escapes from their -mouths, and ascends in long and fanciful wreaths to the -ceiling. At a quarter to ten, a valet entered he composed, -with a little groom named John, and who only spoke English, -all Albert's establishment, although the cook of the hotel -was always at his service, and on great occasions the -count's chasseur also. This valet, whose name was Germain, -and who enjoyed the entire confidence of his young master, -held in one hand a number of papers, and in the other a -packet of letters, which he gave to Albert. Albert glanced -carelessly at the different missives, selected two written -in a small and delicate hand, and enclosed in scented -envelopes, opened them and perused their contents with some -attention. "How did these letters come?" said he. -"One by the post, Madame Danglars' footman left the other." -"Let Madame Danglars know that I accept the place she offers -me in her box. Wait then, during the day, tell Rosa that -when I leave the Opera I will sup with her as she wishes. -Take her six bottles of different wine Cyprus, sherry, -and Malaga, and a barrel of Ostend oysters get them at -Borel's, and be sure you say they are for me." -"At what o'clock, sir, do you breakfast?" -"What time is it now?" -"A quarter to ten." -"Very well, at half past ten. Debray will, perhaps, be -obliged to go to the minister and besides" Albert looked -at his tablets, "it is the hour I told the count, st May, -at half past ten and though I do not much rely upon his -promise, I wish to be punctual. Is the countess up yet?" -"If you wish, I will inquire." -"Yes, ask her for one of her liqueur cellarets, mine is -incomplete and tell her I shall have the honor of seeing -her about three o'clock, and that I request permission to -introduce some one to her." The valet left the room. Albert -threw himself on the divan, tore off the cover of two or -three of the papers, looked at the theatre announcements, -made a face seeing they gave an opera, and not a ballet -hunted vainly amongst the advertisements for a new -toothpowder of which he had heard, and threw down, one -after the other, the three leading papers of Paris, -muttering, "These papers become more and more stupid every -day." A moment after, a carriage stopped before the door, -and the servant announced M. Lucien Debray. A tall young -man, with light hair, clear gray eyes, and thin and -compressed lips, dressed in a blue coat with beautifully -carved gold buttons, a white neckcloth, and a tortoiseshell -eyeglass suspended by a silken thread, and which, by an -effort of the superciliary and zygomatic muscles, he fixed -in his eye, entered, with a halfofficial air, without -smiling or speaking. "Goodmorning, Lucien, goodmorning," -said Albert "your punctuality really alarms me. What do I -say? punctuality You, whom I expected last, you arrive at -five minutes to ten, when the time fixed was halfpast Has -the ministry resigned?" -"No, my dear fellow," returned the young man, seating -himself on the divan "reassure yourself we are tottering -always, but we never fall, and I begin to believe that we -shall pass into a state of immobility, and then the affairs -of the Peninsula will completely consolidate us." -"Ah, true you drive Don Carlos out of Spain." -"No, no, my dear fellow, do not confound our plans. We take -him to the other side of the French frontier, and offer him -hospitality at Bourges." -"At Bourges?" -"Yes, he has not much to complain of Bourges is the capital -of Charles VII. Do you not know that all Paris knew it -yesterday, and the day before it had already transpired on -the Bourse, and M. Danglars I do not know by what means -that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do -made a million" -"And you another order, for I see you have a blue ribbon at -your buttonhole." -"Yes they sent me the order of Charles III.," returned -Debray, carelessly. -"Come, do not affect indifference, but confess you were -pleased to have it." -"Oh, it is very well as a finish to the toilet. It looks -very neat on a black coat buttoned up." -"And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of -Reichstadt." -"It is for that reason you see me so early." -"Because you have the order of Charles III., and you wish to -announce the good news to me?" -"No, because I passed the night writing letters, five and -twenty despatches. I returned home at daybreak, and strove -to sleep but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for -an hour. At the Bois de Boulogne, ennui and hunger attacked -me at once, two enemies who rarely accompany each other, -and who are yet leagued against me, a sort of -Carlorepublican alliance. I then recollected you gave a -breakfast this morning, and here I am. I am hungry, feed me -I am bored, amuse me." -"It is my duty as your host," returned Albert, ringing the -bell, while Lucien turned over, with his goldmounted cane, -the papers that lay on the table. "Germain, a glass of -sherry and a biscuit. In the meantime, my dear Lucien, here -are cigars contraband, of course try them, and -persuade the minister to sell us such instead of poisoning -us with cabbage leaves." -"Peste, I will do nothing of the kind the moment they come -from government you would find them execrable. Besides, that -does not concern the home but the financial department. -Address yourself to M. Humann, section of the indirect -contributions, corridor A., No. ." -"On my word," said Albert, "you astonish me by the extent of -your knowledge. Take a cigar." -"Really, my dear Albert," replied Lucien, lighting a manilla -at a rosecolored taper that burnt in a beautifully -enamelled stand "how happy you are to have nothing to do. -You do not know your own good fortune" -"And what would you do, my dear diplomatist," replied -Morcerf, with a slight degree of irony in his voice, "if you -did nothing? What? private secretary to a minister, plunged -at once into European cabals and Parisian intrigues having -kings, and, better still, queens, to protect, parties to -unite, elections to direct making more use of your cabinet -with your pen and your telegraph than Napoleon did of his -battlefields with his sword and his victories possessing -five and twenty thousand francs a year, besides your place -a horse, for which ChateauRenaud offered you four hundred -louis, and which you would not part with a tailor who never -disappoints you with the opera, the jockeyclub, and other -diversions, can you not amuse yourself? Well, I will amuse -you." -"How?" -"By introducing to you a new acquaintance." -"A man or a woman?" -"A man." -"I know so many men already." -"But you do not know this man." -"Where does he come from the end of the world?" -"Farther still, perhaps." -"The deuce I hope he does not bring our breakfast with -him." -"Oh, no our breakfast comes from my father's kitchen. Are -you hungry?" -"Humiliating as such a confession is, I am. But I dined at -M. de Villefort's, and lawyers always give you very bad -dinners. You would think they felt some remorse did you -ever remark that?" -"Ah, depreciate other persons' dinners you ministers give -such splendid ones." -"Yes but we do not invite people of fashion. If we were not -forced to entertain a parcel of country boobies because they -think and vote with us, we should never dream of dining at -home, I assure you." -"Well, take another glass of sherry and another biscuit." -"Willingly. Your Spanish wine is excellent. You see we were -quite right to pacify that country." -"Yes but Don Carlos?" -"Well, Don Carlos will drink Bordeaux, and in ten years we -will marry his son to the little queen." -"You will then obtain the Golden Fleece, if you are still in -the ministry." -"I think, Albert, you have adopted the system of feeding me -on smoke this morning." -"Well, you must allow it is the best thing for the stomach -but I hear Beauchamp in the next room you can dispute -together, and that will pass away the time." -"About what?" -"About the papers." -"My dear friend," said Lucien with an air of sovereign -contempt, "do I ever read the papers?" -"Then you will dispute the more." -"M. Beauchamp," announced the servant. "Come in, come in," -said Albert, rising and advancing to meet the young man. -"Here is Debray, who detests you without reading you, so he -says." -"He is quite right," returned Beauchamp "for I criticise -him without knowing what he does. Goodday, commander" -"Ah, you know that already," said the private secretary, -smiling and shaking hands with him. -"Pardieu?" -"And what do they say of it in the world?" -"In which world? we have so many worlds in the year of grace -"In the entire political world, of which you are one of the -leaders." -"They say that it is quite fair, and that sowing so much -red, you ought to reap a little blue." -"Come, come, that is not bad" said Lucien. "Why do you not -join our party, my dear Beauchamp? With your talents you -would make your fortune in three or four years." -"I only await one thing before following your advice that -is, a minister who will hold office for six months. My dear -Albert, one word, for I must give poor Lucien a respite. Do -we breakfast or dine? I must go to the Chamber, for our life -is not an idle one." -"You only breakfast I await two persons, and the instant -they arrive we shall sit down to table." -Chapter -The Breakfast. -"And what sort of persons do you expect to breakfast?" said -Beauchamp. -"A gentleman, and a diplomatist." -"Then we shall have to wait two hours for the gentleman, and -three for the diplomatist. I shall come back to dessert -keep me some strawberries, coffee, and cigars. I shall take -a cutlet on my way to the Chamber." -"Do not do anything of the sort for were the gentleman a -Montmorency, and the diplomatist a Metternich, we will -breakfast at eleven in the meantime, follow Debray's -example, and take a glass of sherry and a biscuit." -"Be it so I will stay I must do something to distract my -thoughts." -"You are like Debray, and yet it seems to me that when the -minister is out of spirits, the opposition ought to be -joyous." -"Ah, you do not know with what I am threatened. I shall hear -this morning that M. Danglars make a speech at the Chamber -of Deputies, and at his wife's this evening I shall hear the -tragedy of a peer of France. The devil take the -constitutional government, and since we had our choice, as -they say, at least, how could we choose that?" -"I understand you must lay in a stock of hilarity." -"Do not run down M. Danglars' speeches," said Debray "he -votes for you, for he belongs to the opposition." -"Pardieu, that is exactly the worst of all. I am waiting -until you send him to speak at the Luxembourg, to laugh at -my ease." -"My dear friend," said Albert to Beauchamp, "it is plain -that the affairs of Spain are settled, for you are most -desperately out of humor this morning. Recollect that -Parisian gossip has spoken of a marriage between myself and -Mlle. Eugenie Danglars I cannot in conscience, therefore, -let you run down the speeches of a man who will one day say -to me, "Vicomte, you know I give my daughter two millions.'" -"Ah, this marriage will never take place," said Beauchamp. -"The king has made him a baron, and can make him a peer, but -he cannot make him a gentleman, and the Count of Morcerf is -too aristocratic to consent, for the paltry sum of two -million francs, to a mesalliance. The Viscount of Morcerf -can only wed a marchioness." -"But two million francs make a nice little sum," replied -Morcerf. -"It is the social capital of a theatre on the boulevard, or -a railroad from the Jardin des Plantes to La Rapee." -"Never mind what he says, Morcerf," said Debray, "do you -marry her. You marry a moneybag label, it is true well, -but what does that matter? It is better to have a blazon -less and a figure more on it. You have seven martlets on -your arms give three to your wife, and you will still have -four that is one more than M. de Guise had, who so nearly -became King of France, and whose cousin was Emperor of -Germany." -"On my word, I think you are right, Lucien," said Albert -absently. -"To be sure besides, every millionaire is as noble as a -bastard that is, he can be." -"Do not say that, Debray," returned Beauchamp, laughing, -"for here is ChateauRenaud, who, to cure you of your mania -for paradoxes, will pass the sword of Renaud de Montauban, -his ancestor, through your body." -"He will sully it then," returned Lucien "for I am low -very low." -"Oh, heavens," cried Beauchamp, "the minister quotes -Beranger, what shall we come to next?" -"M. de ChateauRenaud M. Maximilian Morrel," said the -servant, announcing two fresh guests. -"Now, then, to breakfast," said Beauchamp "for, if I -remember, you told me you only expected two persons, -Albert." -"Morrel," muttered Albert "Morrel who is he?" But -before he had finished, M. de ChateauRenaud, a handsome -young man of thirty, gentleman all over, that is, with -the figure of a Guiche and the wit of a Mortemart, took -Albert's hand. "My dear Albert," said he, "let me introduce -to you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, my friend -and what is more however the man speaks for himself my -preserver. Salute my hero, viscount." And he stepped on one -side to give place to a young man of refined and dignified -bearing, with large and open brow, piercing eyes, and black -mustache, whom our readers have already seen at Marseilles, -under circumstances sufficiently dramatic not to be -forgotten. A rich uniform, half French, half Oriental, set -off his graceful and stalwart figure, and his broad chest -was decorated with the order of the Legion of Honor. The -young officer bowed with easy and elegant politeness. -"Monsieur," said Albert with affectionate courtesy, "the -count of ChateauRenaud knew how much pleasure this -introduction would give me you are his friend, be ours -also." -"Well said," interrupted ChateauRenaud "and pray that, if -you should ever be in a similar predicament, he may do as -much for you as he did for me." -"What has he done?" asked Albert. -"Oh, nothing worth speaking of," said Morrel "M. de -ChateauRenaud exaggerates." -"Not worth speaking of?" cried ChateauRenaud "life is not -worth speaking of that is rather too philosophical, on -my word, Morrel. It is very well for you, who risk your life -every day, but for me, who only did so once" -"We gather from all this, baron, that Captain Morrel saved -your life." -"Exactly so." -"On what occasion?" asked Beauchamp. -"Beauchamp, my good fellow, you know I am starving," said -Debray "do not set him off on some long story." -"Well, I do not prevent your sitting down to table," replied -Beauchamp, "ChateauRenaud can tell us while we eat our -breakfast." -"Gentlemen," said Morcerf, "it is only a quarter past ten, -and I expect some one else." -"Ah, true, a diplomatist" observed Debray. -"Diplomat or not, I don't know I only know that he charged -himself on my account with a mission, which he terminated so -entirely to my satisfaction, that had I been king, I should -have instantly created him knight of all my orders, even had -I been able to offer him the Golden Fleece and the Garter." -"Well, since we are not to sit down to table," said Debray, -"take a glass of sherry, and tell us all about it." -"You all know that I had the fancy of going to Africa." -"It is a road your ancestors have traced for you," said -Albert gallantly. -"Yes? but I doubt that your object was like theirs to -rescue the Holy Sepulchre." -"You are quite right, Beauchamp," observed the young -aristocrat. "It was only to fight as an amateur. I cannot -bear duelling since two seconds, whom I had chosen to -arrange an affair, forced me to break the arm of one of my -best friends, one whom you all know poor Franz d'Epinay." -"Ah, true," said Debray, "you did fight some time ago about -what?" -"The devil take me, if I remember," returned ChateauRenaud. -"But I recollect perfectly one thing, that, being unwilling -to let such talents as mine sleep, I wished to try upon the -Arabs the new pistols that had been given to me. In -consequence I embarked for Oran, and went from thence to -Constantine, where I arrived just in time to witness the -raising of the siege. I retreated with the rest, for eight -and forty hours. I endured the rain during the day, and the -cold during the night tolerably well, but the third morning -my horse died of cold. Poor brute accustomed to be -covered up and to have a stove in the stable, the Arabian -finds himself unable to bear ten degrees of cold in Arabia." -"That's why you want to purchase my English horse," said -Debray, "you think he will bear the cold better." -"You are mistaken, for I have made a vow never to return to -Africa." -"You were very much frightened, then?" asked Beauchamp. -"Well, yes, and I had good reason to be so," replied -ChateauRenaud. "I was retreating on foot, for my horse was -dead. Six Arabs came up, full gallop, to cut off my head. I -shot two with my doublebarrelled gun, and two more with my -pistols, but I was then disarmed, and two were still left -one seized me by the hair that is why I now wear it so -short, for no one knows what may happen, the other swung a -yataghan, and I already felt the cold steel on my neck, when -this gentleman whom you see here charged them, shot the one -who held me by the hair, and cleft the skull of the other -with his sabre. He had assigned himself the task of saving a -man's life that day chance caused that man to be myself. -When I am rich I will order a statue of Chance from Klagmann -or Marochetti." -"Yes," said Morrel, smiling, "it was the th of September, -the anniversary of the day on which my father was -miraculously preserved therefore, as far as it lies in my -power, I endeavor to celebrate it by some" -"Heroic action," interrupted ChateauRenaud. "I was chosen. -But that is not all after rescuing me from the sword, he -rescued me from the cold, not by sharing his cloak with me, -like St. Martin, but by giving me the whole then from -hunger by sharing with me guess what?" -"A Strasbourg pie?" asked Beauchamp. -"No, his horse of which we each of us ate a slice with a -hearty appetite. It was very hard." -"The horse?" said Morcerf, laughing. -"No, the sacrifice," returned ChateauRenaud "ask Debray if -he would sacrifice his English steed for a stranger?" -"Not for a stranger," said Debray, "but for a friend I -might, perhaps." -"I divined that you would become mine, count," replied -Morrel "besides, as I had the honor to tell you, heroism or -not, sacrifice or not, that day I owed an offering to bad -fortune in recompense for the favors good fortune had on -other days granted to us." -"The history to which M. Morrel alludes," continued -ChateauRenaud, "is an admirable one, which he will tell you -some day when you are better acquainted with him today let -us fill our stomachs, and not our memories. What time do you -breakfast, Albert?" -"At halfpast ten." -"Precisely?" asked Debray, taking out his watch. -"Oh, you will give me five minutes' grace," replied Morcerf, -"for I also expect a preserver." -"Of whom?" -"Of myself," cried Morcerf "parbleu, do you think I cannot -be saved as well as any one else, and that there are only -Arabs who cut off heads? Our breakfast is a philanthropic -one, and we shall have at table at least, I hope so -two benefactors of humanity." -"What shall we do?" said Debray "we have only one Monthyon -prize." -"Well, it will be given to some one who has done nothing to -deserve it," said Beauchamp "that is the way the Academy -mostly escapes from the dilemma." -"And where does he come from?" asked Debray. "You have -already answered the question once, but so vaguely that I -venture to put it a second time." -"Really," said Albert, "I do not know when I invited him -three months ago, he was then at Rome, but since that time -who knows where he may have gone?" -"And you think him capable of being exact?" demanded Debray. -"I think him capable of everything." -"Well, with the five minutes' grace, we have only ten left." -"I will profit by them to tell you something about my -guest." -"I beg pardon," interrupted Beauchamp "are there any -materials for an article in what you are going to tell us?" -"Yes, and for a most curious one." -"Go on, then, for I see I shall not get to the Chamber this -morning, and I must make up for it." -"I was at Rome during the last Carnival." -"We know that," said Beauchamp. -"Yes, but what you do not know is that I was carried off by -bandits." -"There are no bandits," cried Debray. -"Yes there are, and most hideous, or rather most admirable -ones, for I found them ugly enough to frighten me." -"Come, my dear Albert," said Debray, "confess that your cook -is behindhand, that the oysters have not arrived from Ostend -or Marennes, and that, like Madame de Maintenon, you are -going to replace the dish by a story. Say so at once we are -sufficiently wellbred to excuse you, and to listen to your -history, fabulous as it promises to be." -"And I say to you, fabulous as it may seem, I tell it as a -true one from beginning to end. The brigands had carried me -off, and conducted me to a gloomy spot, called the Catacombs -of Saint Sebastian." -"I know it," said ChateauRenaud "I narrowly escaped -catching a fever there." -"And I did more than that," replied Morcerf, "for I caught -one. I was informed that I was prisoner until I paid the sum -of , Roman crowns about , francs. Unfortunately, -I had not above ,. I was at the end of my journey and of -my credit. I wrote to Franz and were he here he would -confirm every word I wrote then to Franz that if he did -not come with the four thousand crowns before six, at ten -minutes past I should have gone to join the blessed saints -and glorious martyrs in whose company I had the honor of -being and Signor Luigi Vampa, such was the name of the -chief of these bandits, would have scrupulously kept his -word." -"But Franz did come with the four thousand crowns," said -ChateauRenaud. "A man whose name is Franz d'Epinay or -Albert de Morcerf has not much difficulty in procuring -them." -"No, he arrived accompanied simply by the guest I am going -to present to you." -"Ah, this gentleman is a Hercules killing Cacus, a Perseus -freeing Andromeda." -"No, he is a man about my own size." -"Armed to the teeth?" -"He had not even a knittingneedle." -"But he paid your ransom?" -"He said two words to the chief and I was free." -"And they apologized to him for having carried you off?" -said Beauchamp. -"Just so." -"Why, he is a second Ariosto." -"No, his name is the Count of Monte Cristo." -"There is no Count of Monte Cristo" said Debray. -"I do not think so," added ChateauRenaud, with the air of a -man who knows the whole of the European nobility perfectly. -"Does any one know anything of a Count of Monte Cristo?" -"He comes possibly from the Holy Land, and one of his -ancestors possessed Calvary, as the Mortemarts did the Dead -Sea." -"I think I can assist your researches," said Maximilian. -"Monte Cristo is a little island I have often heard spoken -of by the old sailors my father employed a grain of sand -in the centre of the Mediterranean, an atom in the -infinite." -"Precisely" cried Albert. "Well, he of whom I speak is the -lord and master of this grain of sand, of this atom he has -purchased the title of count somewhere in Tuscany." -"He is rich, then?" -"I believe so." -"But that ought to be visible." -"That is what deceives you, Debray." -"I do not understand you." -"Have you read the "Arabian Nights'?" -"What a question" -"Well, do you know if the persons you see there are rich or -poor, if their sacks of wheat are not rubies or diamonds? -They seem like poor fishermen, and suddenly they open some -mysterious cavern filled with the wealth of the Indies." -"Which means?" -"Which means that my Count of Monte Cristo is one of those -fishermen. He has even a name taken from the book, since he -calls himself Sinbad the Sailor, and has a cave filled with -gold." -"And you have seen this cavern, Morcerf?" asked Beauchamp. -"No, but Franz has for heaven's sake, not a word of this -before him. Franz went in with his eyes blindfolded, and was -waited on by mutes and by women to whom Cleopatra was a -painted strumpet. Only he is not quite sure about the women, -for they did not come in until after he had taken hashish, -so that what he took for women might have been simply a row -of statues." -The two young men looked at Morcerf as if to say, "Are -you mad, or are you laughing at us?" -"And I also," said Morrel thoughtfully, "have heard -something like this from an old sailor named Penelon." -"Ah," cried Albert, "it is very lucky that M. Morrel comes -to aid me you are vexed, are you not, that he thus gives a -clew to the labyrinth?" -"My dear Albert," said Debray, "what you tell us is so -extraordinary." -"Ah, because your ambassadors and your consuls do not tell -you of them they have no time. They are too much taken up -with interfering in the affairs of their countrymen who -travel." -"Now you get angry, and attack our poor agents. How will you -have them protect you? The Chamber cuts down their salaries -every day, so that now they have scarcely any. Will you be -ambassador, Albert? I will send you to Constantinople." -"No, lest on the first demonstration I make in favor of -Mehemet Ali, the Sultan send me the bowstring, and make my -secretaries strangle me." -"You say very true," responded Debray. -"Yes," said Albert, "but this has nothing to do with the -existence of the Count of Monte Cristo." -"Pardieu, every one exists." -"Doubtless, but not in the same way every one has not black -slaves, a princely retinue, an arsenal of weapons that would -do credit to an Arabian fortress, horses that cost six -thousand francs apiece, and Greek mistresses." -"Have you seen the Greek mistress?" -"I have both seen and heard her. I saw her at the theatre, -and heard her one morning when I breakfasted with the -count." -"He eats, then?" -"Yes but so little, it can hardly be called eating." -"He must be a vampire." -"Laugh, if you will the Countess G , who knew Lord -Ruthven, declared that the count was a vampire." -"Ah, capital," said Beauchamp. "For a man not connected with -newspapers, here is the pendant to the famous seaserpent of -the Constitutionnel." -"Wild eyes, the iris of which contracts or dilates at -pleasure," said Debray "facial angle strongly developed, -magnificent forehead, livid complexion, black beard, sharp -and white teeth, politeness unexceptionable." -"Just so, Lucien," returned Morcerf "you have described him -feature for feature. Yes, keen and cutting politeness. This -man has often made me shudder and one day that we were -viewing an execution, I thought I should faint, more from -hearing the cold and calm manner in which he spoke of every -description of torture, than from the sight of the -executioner and the culprit." -"Did he not conduct you to the ruins of the Colosseum and -suck your blood?" asked Beauchamp. -"Or, having delivered you, make you sign a flaming -parchment, surrendering your soul to him as Esau did his -birthright?" -"Rail on, rail on at your ease, gentlemen," said Morcerf, -somewhat piqued. "When I look at you Parisians, idlers on -the Boulevard de Gand or the Bois de Boulogne, and think of -this man, it seems to me we are not of the same race." -"I am highly flattered," returned Beauchamp. "At the same -time," added ChateauRenaud, "your Count of Monte Cristo is -a very fine fellow, always excepting his little arrangements -with the Italian banditti." -"There are no Italian banditti," said Debray. -"No vampire," cried Beauchamp. "No Count of Monte Cristo" -added Debray. "There is halfpast ten striking, Albert." -"Confess you have dreamed this, and let us sit down to -breakfast," continued Beauchamp. But the sound of the clock -had not died away when Germain announced, "His excellency -the Count of Monte Cristo." The involuntary start every one -gave proved how much Morcerf's narrative had impressed them, -and Albert himself could not wholly refrain from manifesting -sudden emotion. He had not heard a carriage stop in the -street, or steps in the antechamber the door had itself -opened noiselessly. The count appeared, dressed with the -greatest simplicity, but the most fastidious dandy could -have found nothing to cavil at in his toilet. Every article -of dress hat, coat, gloves, and boots was from the -first makers. He seemed scarcely five and thirty. But what -struck everybody was his extreme resemblance to the portrait -Debray had drawn. The count advanced, smiling, into the -centre of the room, and approached Albert, who hastened -towards him holding out his hand in a ceremonial manner. -"Punctuality," said Monte Cristo, "is the politeness of -kings, according to one of your sovereigns, I think but it -is not the same with travellers. However, I hope you will -excuse the two or three seconds I am behindhand five -hundred leagues are not to be accomplished without some -trouble, and especially in France, where, it seems, it is -forbidden to beat the postilions." -"My dear count," replied Albert, "I was announcing your -visit to some of my friends, whom I had invited in -consequence of the promise you did me the honor to make, and -whom I now present to you. They are the Count of -ChateauRenaud, whose nobility goes back to the twelve -peers, and whose ancestors had a place at the Round Table -M. Lucien Debray, private secretary to the minister of the -interior M. Beauchamp, an editor of a paper, and the terror -of the French government, but of whom, in spite of his -national celebrity, you perhaps have not heard in Italy, -since his paper is prohibited there and M. Maximilian -Morrel, captain of Spahis." -At this name the count, who had hitherto saluted every one -with courtesy, but at the same time with coldness and -formality, stepped a pace forward, and a slight tinge of red -colored his pale cheeks. "You wear the uniform of the new -French conquerors, monsieur," said he "it is a handsome -uniform." No one could have said what caused the count's -voice to vibrate so deeply, and what made his eye flash, -which was in general so clear, lustrous, and limpid when he -pleased. "You have never seen our Africans, count?" said -Albert. "Never," replied the count, who was by this time -perfectly master of himself again. -"Well, beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest and -noblest hearts in the whole army." -"Oh, M. de Morcerf," interrupted Morrel. -"Let me go on, captain. And we have just heard," continued -Albert, "of a new deed of his, and so heroic a one, that, -although I have seen him today for the first time, I -request you to allow me to introduce him as my friend." At -these words it was still possible to observe in Monte Cristo -the concentrated look, changing color, and slight trembling -of the eyelid that show emotion. "Ah, you have a noble -heart," said the count "so much the better." This -exclamation, which corresponded to the count's own thought -rather than to what Albert was saying, surprised everybody, -and especially Morrel, who looked at Monte Cristo with -wonder. But, at the same time, the intonation was so soft -that, however strange the speech might seem, it was -impossible to be offended at it. "Why should he doubt it?" -said Beauchamp to ChateauRenaud. -"In reality," replied the latter, who, with his aristocratic -glance and his knowledge of the world, had penetrated at -once all that was penetrable in Monte Cristo, "Albert has -not deceived us, for the count is a most singular being. -What say you, Morrel" -"Ma foi, he has an open look about him that pleases me, in -spite of the singular remark he has made about me." -"Gentlemen," said Albert, "Germain informs me that breakfast -is ready. My dear count, allow me to show you the way." They -passed silently into the breakfastroom, and every one took -his place. "Gentlemen," said the count, seating himself, -"permit me to make a confession which must form my excuse -for any improprieties I may commit. I am a stranger, and a -stranger to such a degree, that this is the first time I -have ever been at Paris. The French way of living is utterly -unknown to me, and up to the present time I have followed -the Eastern customs, which are entirely in contrast to the -Parisian. I beg you, therefore, to excuse if you find -anything in me too Turkish, too Italian, or too Arabian. -Now, then, let us breakfast." -"With what an air he says all this," muttered Beauchamp -"decidedly he is a great man." -"A great man in his own country," added Debray. -"A great man in every country, M. Debray," said -ChateauRenaud. The count was, it may be remembered, a most -temperate guest. Albert remarked this, expressing his fears -lest, at the outset, the Parisian mode of life should -displease the traveller in the most essential point. "My -dear count," said he, "I fear one thing, and that is, that -the fare of the Rue du Helder is not so much to your taste -as that of the Piazza di Spagni. I ought to have consulted -you on the point, and have had some dishes prepared -expressly." -"Did you know me better," returned the count, smiling, "you -would not give one thought of such a thing for a traveller -like myself, who has successively lived on maccaroni at -Naples, polenta at Milan, olla podrida at Valencia, pilau at -Constantinople, karrick in India, and swallows' nests in -China. I eat everywhere, and of everything, only I eat but -little and today, that you reproach me with my want of -appetite, is my day of appetite, for I have not eaten since -yesterday morning." -"What," cried all the guests, "you have not eaten for four -and twenty hours?" -"No," replied the count "I was forced to go out of my road -to obtain some information near Nimes, so that I was -somewhat late, and therefore I did not choose to stop." -"And you ate in your carriage?" asked Morcerf. -"No, I slept, as I generally do when I am weary without -having the courage to amuse myself, or when I am hungry -without feeling inclined to eat." -"But you can sleep when you please, monsieur?" said Morrel. -"Yes." -"You have a recipe for it?" -"An infallible one." -"That would be invaluable to us in Africa, who have not -always any food to eat, and rarely anything to drink." -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "but, unfortunately, a recipe -excellent for a man like myself would be very dangerous -applied to an army, which might not awake when it was -needed." -"May we inquire what is this recipe?" asked Debray. -"Oh, yes," returned Monte Cristo "I make no secret of it. -It is a mixture of excellent opium, which I fetched myself -from Canton in order to have it pure, and the best hashish -which grows in the East that is, between the Tigris and -the Euphrates. These two ingredients are mixed in equal -proportions, and formed into pills. Ten minutes after one is -taken, the effect is produced. Ask Baron Franz d'Epinay I -think he tasted them one day." -"Yes," replied Morcerf, "he said something about it to me." -"But," said Beauchamp, who, as became a journalist, was very -incredulous, "you always carry this drug about you?" -"Always." -"Would it be an indiscretion to ask to see those precious -pills?" continued Beauchamp, hoping to take him at a -disadvantage. -"No, monsieur," returned the count and he drew from his -pocket a marvellous casket, formed out of a single emerald -and closed by a golden lid which unscrewed and gave passage -to a small greenish colored pellet about the size of a pea. -This ball had an acrid and penetrating odor. There were four -or five more in the emerald, which would contain about a -dozen. The casket passed around the table, but it was more -to examine the admirable emerald than to see the pills that -it passed from hand to hand. "And is it your cook who -prepares these pills?" asked Beauchamp. -"Oh, no, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo "I do not thus -betray my enjoyments to the vulgar. I am a tolerable -chemist, and prepare my pills myself." -"This is a magnificent emerald, and the largest I have ever -seen," said ChateauRenaud, "although my mother has some -remarkable family jewels." -"I had three similar ones," returned Monte Cristo. "I gave -one to the Sultan, who mounted it in his sabre another to -our holy father the Pope, who had it set in his tiara, -opposite to one nearly as large, though not so fine, given -by the Emperor Napoleon to his predecessor, Pius VII. I kept -the third for myself, and I had it hollowed out, which -reduced its value, but rendered it more commodious for the -purpose I intended." Every one looked at Monte Cristo with -astonishment he spoke with so much simplicity that it was -evident he spoke the truth, or that he was mad. However, the -sight of the emerald made them naturally incline to the -former belief. "And what did these two sovereigns give you -in exchange for these magnificent presents?" asked Debray. -"The Sultan, the liberty of a woman," replied the Count -"the Pope, the life of a man so that once in my life I have -been as powerful as if heaven had brought me into the world -on the steps of a throne." -"And it was Peppino you saved, was it not?" cried Morcerf -"it was for him that you obtained pardon?" -"Perhaps," returned the count, smiling. -"My dear count, you have no idea what pleasure it gives me -to hear you speak thus," said Morcerf. "I had announced you -beforehand to my friends as an enchanter of the "Arabian -Nights,' a wizard of the Middle Ages but the Parisians are -so subtle in paradoxes that they mistake for caprices of the -imagination the most incontestable truths, when these truths -do not form a part of their daily existence. For example, -here is Debray who reads, and Beauchamp who prints, every -day, "A member of the Jockey Club has been stopped and -robbed on the Boulevard' "four persons have been -assassinated in the Rue St. Denis' or "the Faubourg St. -Germain' "ten, fifteen, or twenty thieves, have been -arrested in a cafe on the Boulevard du Temple, or in the -Thermes de Julien,' and yet these same men deny the -existence of the bandits in the Maremma, the Campagna di -Romana, or the Pontine Marshes. Tell them yourself that I -was taken by bandits, and that without your generous -intercession I should now have been sleeping in the -Catacombs of St. Sebastian, instead of receiving them in my -humble abode in the Rue du Helder." -"Ah," said Monte Cristo "you promised me never to mention -that circumstance." -"It was not I who made that promise," cried Morcerf "it -must have been some one else whom you have rescued in the -same manner, and whom you have forgotten. Pray speak of it, -for I shall not only, I trust, relate the little I do know, -but also a great deal I do not know." -"It seems to me," returned the count, smiling, "that you -played a sufficiently important part to know as well as -myself what happened." -"Well, you promise me, if I tell all I know, to relate, in -your turn, all that I do not know?" -"That is but fair," replied Monte Cristo. -"Well," said Morcerf, "for three days I believed myself the -object of the attentions of a masque, whom I took for a -descendant of Tullia or Poppoea, while I was simply the -object of the attentions of a contadina, and I say contadina -to avoid saying peasant girl. What I know is, that, like a -fool, a greater fool than he of whom I spoke just now, I -mistook for this peasant girl a young bandit of fifteen or -sixteen, with a beardless chin and slim waist, and who, just -as I was about to imprint a chaste salute on his lips, -placed a pistol to my head, and, aided by seven or eight -others, led, or rather dragged me, to the Catacombs of St. -Sebastian, where I found a highly educated brigand chief -perusing Caesar's "Commentaries,' and who deigned to leave -off reading to inform me, that unless the next morning, -before six o'clock, four thousand piastres were paid into -his account at his banker's, at a quarter past six I should -have ceased to exist. The letter is still to be seen, for it -is in Franz d'Epinay's possession, signed by me, and with a -postscript of M. Luigi Vampa. This is all I know, but I know -not, count, how you contrived to inspire so much respect in -the bandits of Rome who ordinarily have so little respect -for anything. I assure you, Franz and I were lost in -admiration." -"Nothing more simple," returned the count. "I had known the -famous Vampa for more than ten years. When he was quite a -child, and only a shepherd, I gave him a few gold pieces for -showing me my way, and he, in order to repay me, gave me a -poniard, the hilt of which he had carved with his own hand, -and which you may have seen in my collection of arms. In -after years, whether he had forgotten this interchange of -presents, which ought to have cemented our friendship, or -whether he did not recollect me, he sought to take me, but, -on the contrary, it was I who captured him and a dozen of -his band. I might have handed him over to Roman justice, -which is somewhat expeditious, and which would have been -particularly so with him but I did nothing of the sort I -suffered him and his band to depart." -"With the condition that they should sin no more," said -Beauchamp, laughing. "I see they kept their promise." -"No, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo "upon the simple -condition that they should respect myself and my friends. -Perhaps what I am about to say may seem strange to you, who -are socialists, and vaunt humanity and your duty to your -neighbor, but I never seek to protect a society which does -not protect me, and which I will even say, generally -occupies itself about me only to injure me and thus by -giving them a low place in my esteem, and preserving a -neutrality towards them, it is society and my neighbor who -are indebted to me." -"Bravo," cried ChateauRenaud "you are the first man I ever -met sufficiently courageous to preach egotism. Bravo, count, -bravo" -"It is frank, at least," said Morrel. "But I am sure that -the count does not regret having once deviated from the -principles he has so boldly avowed." -"How have I deviated from those principles, monsieur?" asked -Monte Cristo, who could not help looking at Morrel with so -much intensity, that two or three times the young man had -been unable to sustain that clear and piercing glance. -"Why, it seems to me," replied Morrel, "that in delivering -M. de Morcerf, whom you did not know, you did good to your -neighbor and to society." -"Of which he is the brightest ornament," said Beauchamp, -drinking off a glass of champagne. -"My dear count," cried Morcerf, "you are at fault you, -one of the most formidable logicians I know and you must -see it clearly proved that instead of being an egotist, you -are a philanthropist. Ah, you call yourself Oriental, a -Levantine, Maltese, Indian, Chinese your family name is -Monte Cristo Sinbad the Sailor is your baptismal -appellation, and yet the first day you set foot in Paris you -instinctively display the greatest virtue, or rather the -chief defect, of us eccentric Parisians, that is, you -assume the vices you have not, and conceal the virtues you -possess." -"My dear vicomte," returned Monte Cristo, "I do not see, in -all I have done, anything that merits, either from you or -these gentlemen, the pretended eulogies I have received. You -were no stranger to me, for I knew you from the time I gave -up two rooms to you, invited you to breakfast with me, lent -you one of my carriages, witnessed the Carnival in your -company, and saw with you from a window in the Piazza del -Popolo the execution that affected you so much that you -nearly fainted. I will appeal to any of these gentlemen, -could I leave my guest in the hands of a hideous bandit, as -you term him? Besides, you know, I had the idea that you -could introduce me into some of the Paris salons when I came -to France. You might some time ago have looked upon this -resolution as a vague project, but today you see it was a -reality, and you must submit to it under penalty of breaking -your word." -"I will keep it," returned Morcerf "but I fear that you -will be much disappointed, accustomed as you are to -picturesque events and fantastic horizons. Amongst us you -will not meet with any of those episodes with which your -adventurous existence has so familiarized you our -Chimborazo is Mortmartre, our Himalaya is Mount Valerien, -our Great Desert is the plain of Grenelle, where they are -now boring an artesian well to water the caravans. We have -plenty of thieves, though not so many as is said but these -thieves stand in far more dread of a policeman than a lord. -France is so prosaic, and Paris so civilized a city, that -you will not find in its eightyfive departments I say -eightyfive, because I do not include Corsica you will -not find, then, in these eightyfive departments a single -hill on which there is not a telegraph, or a grotto in which -the commissary of police has not put up a gaslamp. There is -but one service I can render you, and for that I place -myself entirely at your orders, that is, to present, or make -my friends present, you everywhere besides, you have no -need of any one to introduce you with your name, and your -fortune, and your talent" Monte Cristo bowed with a -somewhat ironical smile "you can present yourself -everywhere, and be well received. I can be useful in one way -only if knowledge of Parisian habits, of the means of -rendering yourself comfortable, or of the bazaars, can -assist, you may depend upon me to find you a fitting -dwelling here. I do not dare offer to share my apartments -with you, as I shared yours at Rome I, who do not profess -egotism, but am yet egotist par excellence for, except -myself, these rooms would not hold a shadow more, unless -that shadow were feminine." -"Ah," said the count, "that is a most conjugal reservation -I recollect that at Rome you said something of a projected -marriage. May I congratulate you?" -"The affair is still in projection." -"And he who says in "projection,' means already decided," -said Debray. -"No," replied Morcerf, "my father is most anxious about it -and I hope, ere long, to introduce you, if not to my wife, -at least to my betrothed Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars." -"Eugenie Danglars," said Monte Cristo "tell me, is not her -father Baron Danglars?" -"Yes," returned Morcerf, "a baron of a new creation." -"What matter," said Monte Cristo "if he has rendered the -State services which merit this distinction?" -"Enormous ones," answered Beauchamp. "Although in reality a -Liberal, he negotiated a loan of six millions for Charles -X., in , who made him a baron and chevalier of the -Legion of Honor so that he wears the ribbon, not, as you -would think, in his waistcoatpocket, but at his -buttonhole." -"Ah," interrupted Morcerf, laughing, "Beauchamp, Beauchamp, -keep that for the Corsaire or the Charivari, but spare my -future fatherinlaw before me." Then, turning to Monte -Cristo, "You just now spoke his name as if you knew the -baron?" -"I do not know him," returned Monte Cristo "but I shall -probably soon make his acquaintance, for I have a credit -opened with him by the house of Richard Blount, of London, -Arstein Eskeles of Vienna, and Thomson French at Rome." -As he pronounced the two last names, the count glanced at -Maximilian Morrel. If the stranger expected to produce an -effect on Morrel, he was not mistaken Maximilian started -as if he had been electrified. "Thomson French," said he -"do you know this house, monsieur?" -"They are my bankers in the capital of the Christian world," -returned the count quietly. "Can my influence with them be -of any service to you?" -"Oh, count, you could assist me perhaps in researches which -have been, up to the present, fruitless. This house, in past -years, did ours a great service, and has, I know not for -what reason, always denied having rendered us this service." -"I shall be at your orders," said Monte Cristo bowing. -"But," continued Morcerf, "a propos of Danglars, we have -strangely wandered from the subject. We were speaking of a -suitable habitation for the Count of Monte Cristo. Come, -gentlemen, let us all propose some place. Where shall we -lodge this new guest in our great capital?" -"Faubourg SaintGermain," said ChateauRenaud. "The count -will find there a charming hotel, with a court and garden." -"Bah, ChateauRenaud," returned Debray, "you only know your -dull and gloomy Faubourg SaintGermain do not pay any -attention to him, count live in the Chaussee d'Antin, -that's the real centre of Paris." -"Boulevard de l'Opera," said Beauchamp "the second floor -a house with a balcony. The count will have his cushions of -silver cloth brought there, and as he smokes his chibouque, -see all Paris pass before him." -"You have no idea, then, Morrel?" asked ChateauRenaud "you -do not propose anything." -"Oh, yes," returned the young man, smiling "on the -contrary, I have one, but I expected the count would be -tempted by one of the brilliant proposals made him, yet as -he has not replied to any of them, I will venture to offer -him a suite of apartments in a charming hotel, in the -Pompadour style, that my sister has inhabited for a year, in -the Rue Meslay." -"You have a sister?" asked the count. -"Yes, monsieur, a most excellent sister." -"Married?" -"Nearly nine years." -"Happy?" asked the count again. -"As happy as it is permitted to a human creature to be," -replied Maximilian. "She married the man she loved, who -remained faithful to us in our fallen fortunes Emmanuel -Herbaut." Monte Cristo smiled imperceptibly. "I live there -during my leave of absence," continued Maximilian "and I -shall be, together with my brotherinlaw Emmanuel, at the -disposition of the Count, whenever he thinks fit to honor -us." -"One minute," cried Albert, without giving Monte Cristo the -time to reply. "Take care, you are going to immure a -traveller, Sinbad the Sailor, a man who comes to see Paris -you are going to make a patriarch of him." -"Oh, no," said Morrel "my sister is five and twenty, my -brotherinlaw is thirty, they are gay, young, and happy. -Besides, the count will be in his own house, and only see -them when he thinks fit to do so." -"Thanks, monsieur," said Monte Cristo "I shall content -myself with being presented to your sister and her husband, -if you will do me the honor to introduce me but I cannot -accept the offer of any one of these gentlemen, since my -habitation is already prepared." -"What," cried Morcerf "you are, then, going to an hotel -that will be very dull for you." -"Was I so badly lodged at Rome?" said Monte Cristo smiling. -"Parbleu, at Rome you spent fifty thousand piastres in -furnishing your apartments, but I presume that you are not -disposed to spend a similar sum every day." -"It is not that which deterred me," replied Monte Cristo -"but as I determined to have a house to myself, I sent on my -valet de chambre, and he ought by this time to have bought -the house and furnished it." -"But you have, then, a valet de chambre who knows Paris?" -said Beauchamp. -"It is the first time he has ever been in Paris. He is -black, and cannot speak," returned Monte Cristo. -"It is Ali" cried Albert, in the midst of the general -surprise. -"Yes, Ali himself, my Nubian mute, whom you saw, I think, at -Rome." -"Certainly," said Morcerf "I recollect him perfectly. But -how could you charge a Nubian to purchase a house, and a -mute to furnish it? he will do everything wrong." -"Undeceive yourself, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo "I am -quite sure, that, on the contrary, he will choose everything -as I wish. He knows my tastes, my caprices, my wants. He has -been here a week, with the instinct of a hound, hunting by -himself. He will arrange everything for me. He knew, that I -should arrive today at ten o'clock he was waiting for me -at nine at the Barriere de Fontainebleau. He gave me this -paper it contains the number of my new abode read it -yourself," and Monte Cristo passed a paper to Albert. "Ah, -that is really original," said Beauchamp. -"And very princely," added ChateauRenaud. -"What, do you not know your house?" asked Debray. -"No," said Monte Cristo "I told you I did not wish to be -behind my time I dressed myself in the carriage, and -descended at the viscount's door." The young men looked at -each other they did not know if it was a comedy Monte -Cristo was playing, but every word he uttered had such an -air of simplicity, that it was impossible to suppose what he -said was false besides, why should he tell a falsehood? -"We must content ourselves, then," said Beauchamp, "with -rendering the count all the little services in our power. I, -in my quality of journalist, open all the theatres to him." -"Thanks, monsieur," returned Monte Cristo, "my steward has -orders to take a box at each theatre." -"Is your steward also a Nubian?" asked Debray. -"No, he is a countryman of yours, if a Corsican is a -countryman of any one's. But you know him, M. de Morcerf." -"Is it that excellent M. Bertuccio, who understands hiring -windows so well?" -"Yes, you saw him the day I had the honor of receiving you -he has been a soldier, a smuggler in fact, everything. I -would not be quite sure that he has not been mixed up with -the police for some trifle a stab with a knife, for -instance." -"And you have chosen this honest citizen for your steward," -said Debray. "Of how much does he rob you every year?" -"On my word," replied the count, "not more than another. I -am sure he answers my purpose, knows no impossibility, and -so I keep him." -"Then," continued ChateauRenaud, "since you have an -establishment, a steward, and a hotel in the Champs Elysees, -you only want a mistress." Albert smiled. He thought of the -fair Greek he had seen in the count's box at the Argentina -and Valle theatres. "I have something better than that," -said Monte Cristo "I have a slave. You procure your -mistresses from the opera, the Vaudeville, or the Varietes -I purchased mine at Constantinople it cost me more, but I -have nothing to fear." -"But you forget," replied Debray, laughing, "that we are -Franks by name and franks by nature, as King Charles said, -and that the moment she puts her foot in France your slave -becomes free." -"Who will tell her?" -"The first person who sees her." -"She only speaks Romaic." -"That is different." -"But at least we shall see her," said Beauchamp, "or do you -keep eunuchs as well as mutes?" -"Oh, no," replied Monte Cristo "I do not carry brutalism so -far. Every one who surrounds me is free to quit me, and when -they leave me will no longer have any need of me or any one -else it is for that reason, perhaps, that they do not quit -me." They had long since passed to dessert and cigars. -"My dear Albert," said Debray, rising, "it is halfpast two. -Your guest is charming, but you leave the best company to go -into the worst sometimes. I must return to the minister's. I -will tell him of the count, and we shall soon know who he -is." -"Take care," returned Albert "no one has been able to -accomplish that." -"Oh, we have three millions for our police it is true they -are almost always spent beforehand, but, no matter, we shall -still have fifty thousand francs to spend for this purpose." -"And when you know, will you tell me?" -"I promise you. Au revoir, Albert. Gentlemen, good morning." -As he left the room, Debray called out loudly, "My -carriage." -"Bravo," said Beauchamp to Albert "I shall not go to the -Chamber, but I have something better to offer my readers -than a speech of M. Danglars." -"For heaven's sake, Beauchamp," returned Morcerf, "do not -deprive me of the merit of introducing him everywhere. Is he -not peculiar?" -"He is more than that," replied ChateauRenaud "he is one -of the most extraordinary men I ever saw in my life. Are you -coming, Morrel?" -"Directly I have given my card to the count, who has -promised to pay us a visit at Rue Meslay, No. ." -"Be sure I shall not fail to do so," returned the count, -bowing. And Maximilian Morrel left the room with the Baron -de ChateauRenaud, leaving Monte Cristo alone with Morcerf. -Chapter -The Presentation. -When Albert found himself alone with Monte Cristo, "My dear -count," said he, "allow me to commence my services as -cicerone by showing you a specimen of a bachelor's -apartment. You, who are accustomed to the palaces of Italy, -can amuse yourself by calculating in how many square feet a -young man who is not the worst lodged in Paris can live. As -we pass from one room to another, I will open the windows to -let you breathe." Monte Cristo had already seen the -breakfastroom and the salon on the groundfloor. Albert led -him first to his atelier, which was, as we have said, his -favorite apartment. Monte Cristo quickly appreciated all -that Albert had collected here old cabinets, Japanese -porcelain, Oriental stuffs, Venetian glass, arms from all -parts of the world everything was familiar to him and at -the first glance he recognized their date, their country, -and their origin. Morcerf had expected he should be the -guide on the contrary, it was he who, under the count's -guidance, followed a course of archaeology, mineralogy, and -natural history. They descended to the first floor Albert -led his guest into the salon. The salon was filled with the -works of modern artists there were landscapes by Dupre, -with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and -marvellous skies Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their -long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked -arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth -while their riders contended fiercely with their maces -aquarelles of Boulanger, representing Notre Dame de Paris -with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet -there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more -beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the -sun designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of -Salvator Rosa, but more poetic pastels by Giraud and -Muller, representing children like angels and women with the -features of a virgin sketches torn from the album of -Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few -seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a -mosque in a word, all that modern art can give in -exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with -ages long since past. -Albert expected to have something new this time to show to -the traveller, but, to his great surprise, the latter, -without seeking for the signatures, many of which, indeed, -were only initials, named instantly the author of every -picture in such a manner that it was easy to see that each -name was not only known to him, but that each style -associated with it had been appreciated and studied by him. -From the salon they passed into the bedchamber it was a -model of taste and simple elegance. A single portrait, -signed by Leopold Robert, shone in its carved and gilded -frame. This portrait attracted the Count of Monte Cristo's -attention, for he made three rapid steps in the chamber, and -stopped suddenly before it. It was the portrait of a young -woman of five or six and twenty, with a dark complexion, and -light and lustrous eyes, veiled beneath long lashes. She -wore the picturesque costume of the Catalan fisherwomen, a -red and black bodice, and golden pins in her hair. She was -looking at the sea, and her form was outlined on the blue -ocean and sky. The light was so faint in the room that -Albert did not perceive the pallor that spread itself over -the count's visage, or the nervous heaving of his chest and -shoulders. Silence prevailed for an instant, during which -Monte Cristo gazed intently on the picture. -"You have there a most charming mistress, viscount," said -the count in a perfectly calm tone "and this costume a -ball costume, doubtless becomes her admirably." -"Ah, monsieur," returned Albert, "I would never forgive you -this mistake if you had seen another picture beside this. -You do not know my mother she it is whom you see here. She -had her portrait painted thus six or eight years ago. This -costume is a fancy one, it appears, and the resemblance is -so great that I think I still see my mother the same as she -was in . The countess had this portrait painted during -the count's absence. She doubtless intended giving him an -agreeable surprise but, strange to say, this portrait -seemed to displease my father, and the value of the picture, -which is, as you see, one of the best works of Leopold -Robert, could not overcome his dislike to it. It is true, -between ourselves, that M. de Morcerf is one of the most -assiduous peers at the Luxembourg, a general renowned for -theory, but a most mediocre amateur of art. It is different -with my mother, who paints exceedingly well, and who, -unwilling to part with so valuable a picture, gave it to me -to put here, where it would be less likely to displease M. -de Morcerf, whose portrait, by Gros, I will also show you. -Excuse my talking of family matters, but as I shall have the -honor of introducing you to the count, I tell you this to -prevent you making any allusions to this picture. The -picture seems to have a malign influence, for my mother -rarely comes here without looking at it, and still more -rarely does she look at it without weeping. This -disagreement is the only one that has ever taken place -between the count and countess, who are still as much -united, although married more than twenty years, as on the -first day of their wedding." -Monte Cristo glanced rapidly at Albert, as if to seek a -hidden meaning in his words, but it was evident the young -man uttered them in the simplicity of his heart. "Now," said -Albert, "that you have seen all my treasures, allow me to -offer them to you, unworthy as they are. Consider yourself -as in your own house, and to put yourself still more at your -ease, pray accompany me to the apartments of M. de Morcerf, -he whom I wrote from Rome an account of the services you -rendered me, and to whom I announced your promised visit, -and I may say that both the count and countess anxiously -desire to thank you in person. You are somewhat blase I -know, and family scenes have not much effect on Sinbad the -Sailor, who has seen so many others. However, accept what I -propose to you as an initiation into Parisian life a life -of politeness, visiting, and introductions." Monte Cristo -bowed without making any answer he accepted the offer -without enthusiasm and without regret, as one of those -conventions of society which every gentleman looks upon as a -duty. Albert summoned his servant, and ordered him to -acquaint M. and Madame de Morcerf of the arrival of the -Count of Monte Cristo. Albert followed him with the count. -When they arrived at the antechamber, above the door was -visible a shield, which, by its rich ornaments and its -harmony with the rest of the furniture, indicated the -importance the owner attached to this blazon. Monte Cristo -stopped and examined it attentively. -"Azure seven merlets, or, placed bender," said he. "These -are, doubtless, your family arms? Except the knowledge of -blazons, that enables me to decipher them, I am very -ignorant of heraldry I, a count of a fresh creation, -fabricated in Tuscany by the aid of a commandery of St. -Stephen, and who would not have taken the trouble had I not -been told that when you travel much it is necessary. -Besides, you must have something on the panels of your -carriage, to escape being searched by the customhouse -officers. Excuse my putting such a question to you." -"It is not indiscreet," returned Morcerf, with the -simplicity of conviction. "You have guessed rightly. These -are our arms, that is, those of my father, but they are, as -you see, joined to another shield, which has gules, a silver -tower, which are my mother's. By her side I am Spanish, but -the family of Morcerf is French, and, I have heard, one of -the oldest of the south of France." -"Yes," replied Monte Cristo "these blazons prove that. -Almost all the armed pilgrims that went to the Holy Land -took for their arms either a cross, in honor of their -mission, or birds of passage, in sign of the long voyage -they were about to undertake, and which they hoped to -accomplish on the wings of faith. One of your ancestors had -joined the Crusades, and supposing it to be only that of St. -Louis, that makes you mount to the thirteenth century, which -is tolerably ancient." -"It is possible," said Morcerf "my father has in his study -a genealogical tree which will tell you all that, and on -which I made commentaries that would have greatly edified -Hozier and Jaucourt. At present I no longer think of it, and -yet I must tell you that we are beginning to occupy -ourselves greatly with these things under our popular -government." -"Well, then, your government would do well to choose from -the past something better than the things that I have -noticed on your monuments, and which have no heraldic -meaning whatever. As for you, viscount," continued Monte -Cristo to Morcerf, "you are more fortunate than the -government, for your arms are really beautiful, and speak to -the imagination. Yes, you are at once from Provence and -Spain that explains, if the portrait you showed me be like, -the dark hue I so much admired on the visage of the noble -Catalan." It would have required the penetration of Oedipus -or the Sphinx to have divined the irony the count concealed -beneath these words, apparently uttered with the greatest -politeness. Morcerf thanked him with a smile, and pushed -open the door above which were his arms, and which, as we -have said, opened into the salon. In the most conspicuous -part of the salon was another portrait. It was that of a -man, from five to eight and thirty, in the uniform of a -general officer, wearing the double epaulet of heavy -bullion, that indicates superior rank, the ribbon of the -Legion of Honor around his neck, which showed he was a -commander, and on the right breast, the star of a grand -officer of the order of the Saviour, and on the left that of -the grand cross of Charles III., which proved that the -person represented by the picture had served in the wars of -Greece and Spain, or, what was just the same thing as -regarded decorations, had fulfilled some diplomatic mission -in the two countries. -Monte Cristo was engaged in examining this portrait with no -less care than he had bestowed upon the other, when another -door opened, and he found himself opposite to the Count of -Morcerf in person. He was a man of forty to fortyfive -years, but he seemed at least fifty, and his black mustache -and eyebrows contrasted strangely with his almost white -hair, which was cut short, in the military fashion. He was -dressed in plain clothes, and wore at his buttonhole the -ribbons of the different orders to which he belonged. He -entered with a tolerably dignified step, and some little -haste. Monte Cristo saw him advance towards him without -making a single step. It seemed as if his feet were rooted -to the ground, and his eyes on the Count of Morcerf. -"Father," said the young man, "I have the honor of -presenting to you the Count of Monte Cristo, the generous -friend whom I had the good fortune to meet in the critical -situation of which I have told you." -"You are most welcome, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, -saluting Monte Cristo with a smile, "and monsieur has -rendered our house, in preserving its only heir, a service -which insures him our eternal gratitude." As he said these -words, the count of Morcerf pointed to a chair, while he -seated himself in another opposite the window. -Monte Cristo, in taking the seat Morcerf offered him, placed -himself in such a manner as to remain concealed in the -shadow of the large velvet curtains, and read on the -careworn and livid features of the count a whole history of -secret griefs written in each wrinkle time had planted -there. "The countess," said Morcerf, "was at her toilet when -she was informed of the visit she was about to receive. She -will, however, be in the salon in ten minutes." -"It is a great honor to me," returned Monte Cristo, "to be -thus, on the first day of my arrival in Paris, brought in -contact with a man whose merit equals his reputation, and to -whom fortune has for once been equitable, but has she not -still on the plains of Metidja, or in the mountains of -Atlas, a marshal's staff to offer you?" -"Oh," replied Morcerf, reddening slightly, "I have left the -service, monsieur. Made a peer at the Restoration, I served -through the first campaign under the orders of Marshal -Bourmont. I could, therefore, expect a higher rank, and who -knows what might have happened had the elder branch remained -on the throne? But the Revolution of July was, it seems, -sufficiently glorious to allow itself to be ungrateful, and -it was so for all services that did not date from the -imperial period. I tendered my resignation, for when you -have gained your epaulets on the battlefield, you do not -know how to manoeuvre on the slippery grounds of the salons. -I have hung up my sword, and cast myself into politics. I -have devoted myself to industry I study the useful arts. -During the twenty years I served, I often wished to do so, -but I had not the time." -"These are the ideas that render your nation superior to any -other," returned Monte Cristo. "A gentleman of high birth, -possessor of an ample fortune, you have consented to gain -your promotion as an obscure soldier, step by step this -is uncommon then become general, peer of France, commander -of the Legion of Honor, you consent to again commence a -second apprenticeship, without any other hope or any other -desire than that of one day becoming useful to your -fellowcreatures this, indeed, is praiseworthy, nay, -more, it is sublime." Albert looked on and listened with -astonishment he was not used to see Monte Cristo give vent -to such bursts of enthusiasm. "Alas," continued the -stranger, doubtless to dispel the slight cloud that covered -Morcerf's brow, "we do not act thus in Italy we grow -according to our race and our species, and we pursue the -same lines, and often the same uselessness, all our lives." -"But, monsieur," said the Count of Morcerf, "for a man of -your merit, Italy is not a country, and France opens her -arms to receive you respond to her call. France will not, -perhaps, be always ungrateful. She treats her children ill, -but she always welcomes strangers." -"Ah, father," said Albert with a smile, "it is evident you -do not know the Count of Monte Cristo he despises all -honors, and contents himself with those written on his -passport." -"That is the most just remark," replied the stranger, "I -ever heard made concerning myself." -"You have been free to choose your career," observed the -Count of Morcerf, with a sigh "and you have chosen the path -strewed with flowers." -"Precisely, monsieur," replied Monte Cristo with one of -those smiles that a painter could never represent or a -physiologist analyze. -"If I did not fear to fatigue you," said the general, -evidently charmed with the count's manners, "I would have -taken you to the Chamber there is a debate very curious to -those who are strangers to our modern senators." -"I shall be most grateful, monsieur, if you will, at some -future time, renew your offer, but I have been flattered -with the hope of being introduced to the countess, and I -will therefore wait." -"Ah, here is my mother," cried the viscount. Monte Cristo, -turned round hastily, and saw Madame de Morcerf at the -entrance of the salon, at the door opposite to that by which -her husband had entered, pale and motionless when Monte -Cristo turned round, she let fall her arm, which for some -unknown reason had been resting on the gilded doorpost. She -had been there some moments, and had heard the last words of -the visitor. The latter rose and bowed to the countess, who -inclined herself without speaking. "Ah, good heavens, -madame," said the count, "are you ill, or is it the heat of -the room that affects you?" -"Are you ill, mother?" cried the viscount, springing towards -her. -She thanked them both with a smile. "No," returned she, "but -I feel some emotion on seeing, for the first time, the man -without whose intervention we should have been in tears and -desolation. Monsieur," continued the countess, advancing -with the majesty of a queen, "I owe to you the life of my -son, and for this I bless you. Now, I thank you for the -pleasure you give me in thus affording me the opportunity of -thanking you as I have blessed you, from the bottom of my -heart." The count bowed again, but lower than before He was -even paler than Mercedes. "Madame," said he, "the count and -yourself recompense too generously a simple action. To save -a man, to spare a father's feelings, or a mother's -sensibility, is not to do a good action, but a simple deed -of humanity." At these words, uttered with the most -exquisite sweetness and politeness, Madame de Morcerf -replied. "It is very fortunate for my son, monsieur, that he -found such a friend, and I thank God that things are thus." -And Mercedes raised her fine eyes to heaven with so fervent -an expression of gratitude, that the count fancied he saw -tears in them. M. de Morcerf approached her. "Madame," said -he. "I have already made my excuses to the count for -quitting him, and I pray you to do so also. The sitting -commences at two it is now three, and I am to speak." -"Go, then, and monsieur and I will strive our best to forget -your absence," replied the countess, with the same tone of -deep feeling. "Monsieur," continued she, turning to Monte -Cristo, "will you do us the honor of passing the rest of the -day with us?" -"Believe me, madame, I feel most grateful for your kindness, -but I got out of my travelling carriage at your door this -morning, and I am ignorant how I am installed in Paris, -which I scarcely know this is but a trifling inquietude, I -know, but one that may be appreciated." -"We shall have the pleasure another time," said the -countess "you promise that?" Monte Cristo inclined himself -without answering, but the gesture might pass for assent. "I -will not detain you, monsieur," continued the countess "I -would not have our gratitude become indiscreet or -importunate." -"My dear Count," said Albert, "I will endeavor to return -your politeness at Rome, and place my coupe at your disposal -until your own be ready." -"A thousand thanks for your kindness, viscount," returned -the Count of Monte Cristo "but I suppose that M. Bertuccio -has suitably employed the four hours and a half I have given -him, and that I shall find a carriage of some sort ready at -the door." Albert was used to the count's manner of -proceeding he knew that, like Nero, he was in search of the -impossible, and nothing astonished him, but wishing to judge -with his own eyes how far the count's orders had been -executed, he accompanied him to the door of the house. Monte -Cristo was not deceived. As soon as he appeared in the Count -of Morcerf's antechamber, a footman, the same who at Rome -had brought the count's card to the two young men, and -announced his visit, sprang into the vestibule, and when he -arrived at the door the illustrious traveller found his -carriage awaiting him. It was a coupe of Koller's building, -and with horses and harness for which Drake had, to the -knowledge of all the lions of Paris, refused on the previous -day seven hundred guineas. "Monsieur," said the count to -Albert, "I do not ask you to accompany me to my house, as I -can only show you a habitation fitted up in a hurry, and I -have, as you know, a reputation to keep up as regards not -being taken by surprise. Give me, therefore, one more day -before I invite you I shall then be certain not to fail in -my hospitality." -"If you ask me for a day, count, I know what to anticipate -it will not be a house I shall see, but a palace. You have -decidedly some genius at your control." -"Ma foi, spread that idea," replied the Count of Monte -Cristo, putting his foot on the velvetlined steps of his -splendid carriage, "and that will be worth something to me -among the ladies." As he spoke, he sprang into the vehicle, -the door was closed, but not so rapidly that Monte Cristo -failed to perceive the almost imperceptible movement which -stirred the curtains of the apartment in which he had left -Madame de Morcerf. When Albert returned to his mother, he -found her in the boudoir reclining in a large velvet -armchair, the whole room so obscure that only the shining -spangle, fastened here and there to the drapery, and the -angles of the gilded frames of the pictures, showed with -some degree of brightness in the gloom. Albert could not see -the face of the countess, as it was covered with a thin veil -she had put on her head, and which fell over her features in -misty folds, but it seemed to him as though her voice had -altered. He could distinguish amid the perfumes of the roses -and heliotropes in the flowerstands, the sharp and fragrant -odor of volatile salts, and he noticed in one of the chased -cups on the mantlepiece the countess's smellingbottle, -taken from its shagreen case, and exclaimed in a tone of -uneasiness, as he entered, "My dear mother, have you been -ill during my absence?" -"No, no, Albert, but you know these roses, tuberoses, and -orangeflowers throw out at first, before one is used to -them, such violent perfumes." -"Then, my dear mother," said Albert, putting his hand to the -bell, "they must be taken into the antechamber. You are -really ill, and just now were so pale as you came into the -room" -"Was I pale, Albert?" -"Yes a pallor that suits you admirably, mother, but which -did not the less alarm my father and myself." -"Did your father speak of it?" inquired Mercedes eagerly. -"No, madame but do you not remember that he spoke of the -fact to you?" -"Yes, I do remember," replied the countess. A servant -entered, summoned by Albert's ring of the bell. "Take these -flowers into the anteroom or dressingroom," said the -viscount "they make the countess ill." The footman obeyed -his orders. A long pause ensued, which lasted until all the -flowers were removed. "What is this name of Monte Cristo?" -inquired the countess, when the servant had taken away the -last vase of flowers, "is it a family name, or the name of -the estate, or a simple title?" -"I believe, mother, it is merely a title. The count -purchased an island in the Tuscan archipelago, and, as he -told you today, has founded a commandery. You know the same -thing was done for Saint Stephen of Florence, Saint George, -Constantinian of Parma, and even for the Order of Malta. -Except this, he has no pretension to nobility, and calls -himself a chance count, although the general opinion at Rome -is that the count is a man of very high distinction." -"His manners are admirable," said the countess, "at least, -as far as I could judge in the few minutes he remained -here." -"They are perfect mother, so perfect, that they surpass by -far all I have known in the leading aristocracy of the three -proudest nobilities of Europe the English, the Spanish, -and the German." The countess paused a moment then, after a -slight hesitation, she resumed, "You have seen, my dear -Albert I ask the question as a mother you have seen M. -de Monte Cristo in his house, you are quicksighted, have -much knowledge of the world, more tact than is usual at your -age, do you think the count is really what he appears to -be?" -"What does he appear to be?" -"Why, you have just said, a man of high distinction." -"I told you, my dear mother, he was esteemed such." -"But what is your own opinion, Albert?" -"I must tell you that I have not come to any decided opinion -respecting him, but I think him a Maltese." -"I do not ask you of his origin but what he is." -"Ah, what he is that is quite another thing. I have seen so -many remarkable things in him, that if you would have me -really say what I think, I shall reply that I really do look -upon him as one of Byron's heroes, whom misery has marked -with a fatal brand some Manfred, some Lara, some Werner, -one of those wrecks, as it were, of some ancient family, -who, disinherited of their patrimony, have achieved one by -the force of their adventurous genius, which has placed them -above the laws of society." -"You say" -"I say that Monte Cristo is an island in the midst of the -Mediterranean, without inhabitants or garrison, the resort -of smugglers of all nations, and pirates of every flag. Who -knows whether or not these industrious worthies do not pay -to their feudal lord some dues for his protection?" -"That is possible," said the countess, reflecting. -"Never mind," continued the young man, "smuggler or not, you -must agree, mother dear, as you have seen him, that the -Count of Monte Cristo is a remarkable man, who will have the -greatest success in the salons of Paris. Why, this very -morning, in my rooms, he made his entree amongst us by -striking every man of us with amazement, not even excepting -ChateauRenaud." -"And what do you suppose is the count's age?" inquired -Mercedes, evidently attaching great importance to this -question. -"Thirtyfive or thirtysix, mother." -"So young, it is impossible," said Mercedes, replying at -the same time to what Albert said as well as to her own -private reflection. -"It is the truth, however. Three or four times he has said -to me, and certainly without the slightest premeditation, -"at such a period I was five years old, at another ten years -old, at another twelve,' and I, induced by curiosity, which -kept me alive to these details, have compared the dates, and -never found him inaccurate. The age of this singular man, -who is of no age, is then, I am certain, thirtyfive. -Besides, mother, remark how vivid his eye, how ravenblack -his hair, and his brow, though so pale, is free from -wrinkles, he is not only vigorous, but also young." The -countess bent her head, as if beneath a heavy wave of bitter -thoughts. "And has this man displayed a friendship for you, -Albert?" she asked with a nervous shudder. -"I am inclined to think so." -"And do you like him?" -"Why, he pleases me in spite of Franz d'Epinay, who tries to -convince me that he is a being returned from the other -world." The countess shuddered. "Albert," she said, in a -voice which was altered by emotion, "I have always put you -on your guard against new acquaintances. Now you are a man, -and are able to give me advice yet I repeat to you, Albert, -be prudent." -"Why, my dear mother, it is necessary, in order to make your -advice turn to account, that I should know beforehand what I -have to distrust. The count never plays, he only drinks pure -water tinged with a little sherry, and is so rich that he -cannot, without intending to laugh at me, try to borrow -money. What, then, have I to fear from him?" -"You are right," said the countess, "and my fears are -weakness, especially when directed against a man who has -saved your life. How did your father receive him, Albert? It -is necessary that we should be more than complaisant to the -count. M. de Morcerf is sometimes occupied, his business -makes him reflective, and he might, without intending it" -"Nothing could be in better taste than my father's demeanor, -madame," said Albert "nay, more, he seemed greatly -flattered at two or three compliments which the count very -skilfully and agreeably paid him with as much ease as if he -had known him these thirty years. Each of these little -tickling arrows must have pleased my father," added Albert -with a laugh. "And thus they parted the best possible -friends, and M. de Morcerf even wished to take him to the -Chamber to hear the speakers." The countess made no reply. -She fell into so deep a revery that her eyes gradually -closed. The young man, standing up before her, gazed upon -her with that filial affection which is so tender and -endearing with children whose mothers are still young and -handsome. Then, after seeing her eyes closed, and hearing -her breathe gently, he believed she had dropped asleep, and -left the apartment on tiptoe, closing the door after him -with the utmost precaution. "This devil of a fellow," he -muttered, shaking his head "I said at the time he would -create a sensation here, and I measure his effect by an -infallible thermometer. My mother has noticed him, and he -must therefore, perforce, be remarkable." He went down to -the stables, not without some slight annoyance, when he -remembered that the Count of Monte Cristo had laid his hands -on a "turnout" which sent his bays down to second place in -the opinion of connoisseurs. "Most decidedly," said he, "men -are not equal, and I must beg my father to develop this -theorem in the Chamber of Peers." -Chapter -Monsieur Bertuccio. -Meanwhile the count had arrived at his house it had taken -him six minutes to perform the distance, but these six -minutes were sufficient to induce twenty young men who knew -the price of the equipage they had been unable to purchase -themselves, to put their horses in a gallop in order to see -the rich foreigner who could afford to give , francs -apiece for his horses. The house Ali had chosen, and which -was to serve as a town residence to Monte Cristo, was -situated on the right hand as you ascend the Champs Elysees. -A thick clump of trees and shrubs rose in the centre, and -masked a portion of the front around this shrubbery two -alleys, like two arms, extended right and left, and formed a -carriagedrive from the iron gates to a double portico, on -every step of which stood a porcelain vase, filled with -flowers. This house, isolated from the rest, had, besides -the main entrance, another in the Rue Ponthieu. Even before -the coachman had hailed the concierge, the massy gates -rolled on their hinges they had seen the Count coming, -and at Paris, as everywhere else, he was served with the -rapidity of lightning. The coachman entered and traversed -the halfcircle without slackening his speed, and the gates -were closed ere the wheels had ceased to sound on the -gravel. The carriage stopped at the left side of the -portico, two men presented themselves at the -carriagewindow the one was Ali, who, smiling with an -expression of the most sincere joy, seemed amply repaid by a -mere look from Monte Cristo. The other bowed respectfully, -and offered his arm to assist the count in descending. -"Thanks, M. Bertuccio," said the count, springing lightly up -the three steps of the portico "and the notary?" -"He is in the small salon, excellency," returned Bertuccio. -"And the cards I ordered to be engraved as soon as you knew -the number of the house?" -"Your excellency, it is done already. I have been myself to -the best engraver of the Palais Royal, who did the plate in -my presence. The first card struck off was taken, according -to your orders, to the Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussee -d'Antin, No. the others are on the mantlepiece of your -excellency's bedroom." -"Good what o'clock is it?" -"Four o'clock." Monte Cristo gave his hat, cane, and gloves -to the same French footman who had called his carriage at -the Count of Morcerf's, and then he passed into the small -salon, preceded by Bertuccio, who showed him the way. "These -are but indifferent marbles in this antechamber," said -Monte Cristo. "I trust all this will soon be taken away." -Bertuccio bowed. As the steward had said, the notary awaited -him in the small salon. He was a simplelooking lawyer's -clerk, elevated to the extraordinary dignity of a provincial -scrivener. "You are the notary empowered to sell the country -house that I wish to purchase, monsieur?" asked Monte -Cristo. -"Yes, count," returned the notary. -"Is the deed of sale ready?" -"Yes, count." -"Have you brought it?" -"Here it is." -"Very well and where is this house that I purchase?" asked -the count carelessly, addressing himself half to Bertuccio, -half to the notary. The steward made a gesture that -signified, "I do not know." The notary looked at the count -with astonishment. "What" said he, "does not the count know -where the house he purchases is situated?" -"No," returned the count. -"The count does not know?" -"How should I know? I have arrived from Cadiz this morning. -I have never before been at Paris, and it is the first time -I have ever even set my foot in France." -"Ah, that is different the house you purchase is at -Auteuil." At these words Bertuccio turned pale. "And where -is Auteuil?" asked the count. -"Close by here, monsieur," replied the notary "a little -beyond Passy a charming situation, in the heart of the Bois -de Boulogne." -"So near as that?" said the Count "but that is not in the -country. What made you choose a house at the gates of Paris, -M. Bertuccio?" -"I," cried the steward with a strange expression. "His -excellency did not charge me to purchase this house. If his -excellency will recollect if he will think" -"Ah, true," observed Monte Cristo "I recollect now. I read -the advertisement in one of the papers, and was tempted by -the false title, "a country house.'" -"It is not yet too late," cried Bertuccio, eagerly "and if -your excellency will intrust me with the commission, I will -find you a better at Enghien, at FontenayauxRoses, or at -Bellevue." -"Oh, no," returned Monte Cristo negligently "since I have -this, I will keep it." -"And you are quite right," said the notary, who feared to -lose his fee. "It is a charming place, well supplied with -springwater and fine trees a comfortable habitation, -although abandoned for a long time, without reckoning the -furniture, which, although old, is yet valuable, now that -old things are so much sought after. I suppose the count has -the tastes of the day?" -"To be sure," returned Monte Cristo "it is very convenient, -then?" -"It is more it is magnificent." -"Peste, let us not lose such an opportunity," returned Monte -Cristo. "The deed, if you please, Mr. Notary." And he signed -it rapidly, after having first run his eye over that part of -the deed in which were specified the situation of the house -and the names of the proprietors. "Bertuccio," said he, -"give fiftyfive thousand francs to monsieur." The steward -left the room with a faltering step, and returned with a -bundle of banknotes, which the notary counted like a man -who never gives a receipt for money until after he is sure -it is all there. "And now," demanded the count, "are all the -forms complied with?" -"All, sir." -"Have you the keys?" -"They are in the hands of the concierge, who takes care of -the house, but here is the order I have given him to install -the count in his new possessions." -"Very well" and Monte Cristo made a sign with his hand to -the notary, which said, "I have no further need of you you -may go." -"But," observed the honest notary, "the count is, I think, -mistaken it is only fifty thousand francs, everything -included." -"And your fee?" -"Is included in this sum." -"But have you not come from Auteuil here?" -"Yes, certainly." -"Well, then, it is but fair that you should be paid for your -loss of time and trouble," said the count and he made a -gesture of polite dismissal. The notary left the room -backwards, and bowing down to the ground it was the first -time he had ever met a similar client. "See this gentleman -out," said the count to Bertuccio. And the steward followed -the notary out of the room. Scarcely was the count alone, -when he drew from his pocket a book closed with a lock, and -opened it with a key which he wore round his neck, and which -never left him. After having sought for a few minutes, he -stopped at a leaf which had several notes, and compared them -with the deed of sale, which lay on the table. ""Auteuil, -Rue de la Fontaine, No. ' it is indeed the same," said -he "and now, am I to rely upon an avowal extorted by -religious or physical terror? However, in an hour I shall -know all. Bertuccio" cried he, striking a light hammer with -a pliant handle on a small gong. "Bertuccio" The steward -appeared at the door. "Monsieur Bertuccio," said the count, -"did you never tell me that you had travelled in France?" -"In some parts of France yes, excellency." -"You know the environs of Paris, then?" -"No, excellency, no," returned the steward, with a sort of -nervous trembling, which Monte Cristo, a connoisseur in all -emotions, rightly attributed to great disquietude. -"It is unfortunate," returned he, "that you have never -visited the environs, for I wish to see my new property this -evening, and had you gone with me, you could have given me -some useful information." -"To Auteuil" cried Bertuccio, whose copper complexion -became livid "I go to Auteuil?" -"Well, what is there surprising in that? When I live at -Auteuil, you must come there, as you belong to my service." -Bertuccio hung down his head before the imperious look of -his master, and remained motionless, without making any -answer. "Why, what has happened to you? are you going to -make me ring a second time for the carriage?" asked Monte -Cristo, in the same tone that Louis XIV. pronounced the -famous, "I have been almost obliged to wait." Bertuccio made -but one bound to the antechamber, and cried in a hoarse -voice "His excellency's horses" Monte Cristo wrote two -or three notes, and, as he sealed the last, the steward -appeared. "Your excellency's carriage is at the door," said -he. -"Well, take your hat and gloves," returned Monte Cristo. -"Am I to accompany you, your excellency?" cried Bertuccio. -"Certainly, you must give the orders, for I intend residing -at the house." It was unexampled for a servant of the -count's to dare to dispute an order of his, so the steward, -without saying a word, followed his master, who got into the -carriage, and signed to him to follow, which he did, taking -his place respectfully on the front seat. -Chapter -The House at Auteuil. -Monte Cristo noticed, as they descended the staircase, that -Bertuccio signed himself in the Corsican manner that is, -had formed the sign of the cross in the air with his thumb, -and as he seated himself in the carriage, muttered a short -prayer. Any one but a man of exhaustless thirst for -knowledge would have had pity on seeing the steward's -extraordinary repugnance for the count's projected drive -without the walls but the Count was too curious to let -Bertuccio off from this little journey. In twenty minutes -they were at Auteuil the steward's emotion had continued to -augment as they entered the village. Bertuccio, crouched in -the corner of the carriage, began to examine with a feverish -anxiety every house they passed. "Tell them to stop at Rue -de la Fontaine, No. ," said the count, fixing his eyes on -the steward, to whom he gave this order. Bertuccio's -forehead was covered with perspiration however, he obeyed, -and, leaning out of the window, he cried to the coachman, -"Rue de la Fontaine, No. ." No. was situated at the -extremity of the village during the drive night had set in, -and darkness gave the surroundings the artificial appearance -of a scene on the stage. The carriage stopped, the footman -sprang off the box, and opened the door. "Well," said the -count, "you do not get out, M. Bertuccio you are going to -stay in the carriage, then? What are you thinking of this -evening?" Bertuccio sprang out, and offered his shoulder to -the count, who, this time, leaned upon it as he descended -the three steps of the carriage. "Knock," said the count, -"and announce me." Bertuccio knocked, the door opened, and -the concierge appeared. "What is it?" asked he. -"It is your new master, my good fellow," said the footman. -And he held out to the concierge the notary's order. -"The house is sold, then?" demanded the concierge "and this -gentleman is coming to live here?" -"Yes, my friend," returned the count "and I will endeavor -to give you no cause to regret your old master." -"Oh, monsieur," said the concierge, "I shall not have much -cause to regret him, for he came here but seldom it is five -years since he was here last, and he did well to sell the -house, for it did not bring him in anything at all." -"What was the name of your old master?" said Monte Cristo. -"The Marquis of SaintMeran. Ah, I am sure he has not sold -the house for what he gave for it." -"The Marquis of SaintMeran" returned the count. "The name -is not unknown to me the Marquis of SaintMeran" and he -appeared to meditate. -"An old gentleman," continued the concierge, "a stanch -follower of the Bourbons he had an only daughter, who -married M. de Villefort, who had been the king's attorney at -Nimes, and afterwards at Versailles." Monte Cristo glanced -at Bertuccio, who became whiter than the wall against which -he leaned to prevent himself from falling. "And is not this -daughter dead?" demanded Monte Cristo "I fancy I have heard -so." -"Yes, monsieur, one and twenty years ago and since then we -have not seen the poor marquis three times." -"Thanks, thanks," said Monte Cristo, judging from the -steward's utter prostration that he could not stretch the -cord further without danger of breaking it. "Give me a -light." -"Shall I accompany you, monsieur?" -"No, it is unnecessary Bertuccio will show me a light." And -Monte Cristo accompanied these words by the gift of two gold -pieces, which produced a torrent of thanks and blessings -from the concierge. "Ah, monsieur," said he, after having -vainly searched on the mantlepiece and the shelves, "I have -not got any candles." -"Take one of the carriagelamps, Bertuccio," said the count, -"and show me the apartments." The steward obeyed in silence, -but it was easy to see, from the manner in which the hand -that held the light trembled, how much it cost him to obey. -They went over a tolerably large groundfloor a second -floor consisted of a salon, a bathroom, and two bedrooms -near one of the bedrooms they came to a winding staircase -that led down to the garden. -"Ah, here is a private staircase," said the count "that is -convenient. Light me, M. Bertuccio, and go first we will -see where it leads to." -"Monsieur," replied Bertuccio, "it leads to the garden." -"And, pray, how do you know that?" -"It ought to do so, at least." -"Well, let us be sure of that." Bertuccio sighed, and went -on first the stairs did, indeed, lead to the garden. At the -outer door the steward paused. "Go on, Monsieur Bertuccio," -said the count. But he who was addressed stood there, -stupefied, bewildered, stunned his haggard eyes glanced -around, as if in search of the traces of some terrible -event, and with his clinched hands he seemed striving to -shut out horrible recollections. "Well," insisted the Count. -"No, no," cried Bertuccio, setting down the lantern at the -angle of the interior wall. "No, monsieur, it is impossible -I can go no farther." -"What does this mean?" demanded the irresistible voice of -Monte Cristo. -"Why, you must see, your excellency," cried the steward, -"that this is not natural that, having a house to purchase, -you purchase it exactly at Auteuil, and that, purchasing it -at Auteuil, this house should be No. , Rue de la Fontaine. -Oh, why did I not tell you all? I am sure you would not have -forced me to come. I hoped your house would have been some -other one than this as if there was not another house at -Auteuil than that of the assassination" -"What, what" cried Monte Cristo, stopping suddenly, "what -words do you utter? Devil of a man, Corsican that you are -always mysteries or superstitions. Come, take the lantern, -and let us visit the garden you are not afraid of ghosts -with me, I hope?" Bertuccio raised the lantern, and obeyed. -The door, as it opened, disclosed a gloomy sky, in which the -moon strove vainly to struggle through a sea of clouds that -covered her with billows of vapor which she illumined for an -instant, only to sink into obscurity. The steward wished to -turn to the left. "No, no, monsieur," said Monte Cristo. -"What is the use of following the alleys? Here is a -beautiful lawn let us go on straight forwards." -Bertuccio wiped the perspiration from his brow, but obeyed -however, he continued to take the left hand. Monte Cristo, -on the contrary, took the right hand arrived near a clump -of trees, he stopped. The steward could not restrain -himself. "Move, monsieur move away, I entreat you you -are exactly in the spot" -"What spot?" -"Where he fell." -"My dear Monsieur Bertuccio," said Monte Cristo, laughing, -"control yourself we are not at Sartena or at Corte. This -is not a Corsican arbor, but an English garden badly kept, -I own, but still you must not calumniate it for that." -"Monsieur, I implore you do not stay there" -"I think you are going mad, Bertuccio," said the count -coldly. "If that is the case, I warn you, I shall have you -put in a lunatic asylum." -"Alas, excellency," returned Bertuccio, joining his hands, -and shaking his head in a manner that would have excited the -count's laughter, had not thoughts of a superior interest -occupied him, and rendered him attentive to the least -revelation of this timorous conscience. "Alas, excellency, -the evil has arrived" -"M. Bertuccio," said the count, "I am very glad to tell you, -that while you gesticulate, you wring your hands and roll -your eyes like a man possessed by a devil who will not leave -him and I have always observed, that the devil most -obstinate to be expelled is a secret. I knew you were a -Corsican. I knew you were gloomy, and always brooding over -some old history of the vendetta and I overlooked that in -Italy, because in Italy those things are thought nothing of. -But in France they are considered in very bad taste there -are gendarmes who occupy themselves with such affairs, -judges who condemn, and scaffolds which avenge." Bertuccio -clasped his hands, and as, in all these evolutions, he did -not let fall the lantern, the light showed his pale and -altered countenance. Monte Cristo examined him with the same -look that, at Rome, he had bent upon the execution of -Andrea, and then, in a tone that made a shudder pass through -the veins of the poor steward, "The Abbe Busoni, then -told me an untruth," said he, "when, after his journey in -France, in , he sent you to me, with a letter of -recommendation, in which he enumerated all your valuable -qualities. Well, I shall write to the abbe I shall hold him -responsible for his protege's misconduct, and I shall soon -know all about this assassination. Only I warn you, that -when I reside in a country, I conform to all its code, and I -have no wish to put myself within the compass of the French -laws for your sake." -"Oh, do not do that, excellency I have always served you -faithfully," cried Bertuccio, in despair. "I have always -been an honest man, and, as far as lay in my power, I have -done good." -"I do not deny it," returned the count "but why are you -thus agitated. It is a bad sign a quiet conscience does not -occasion such paleness in the cheeks, and such fever in the -hands of a man." -"But, your excellency," replied Bertuccio hesitatingly, "did -not the Abbe Busoni, who heard my confession in the prison -at Nimes, tell you that I had a heavy burden upon my -conscience?" -"Yes but as he said you would make an excellent steward, I -concluded you had stolen that was all." -"Oh, your excellency," returned Bertuccio in deep contempt. -"Or, as you are a Corsican, that you had been unable to -resist the desire of making a "stiff,' as you call it." -"Yes, my good master," cried Bertuccio, casting himself at -the count's feet, "it was simply vengeance nothing else." -"I understand that, but I do not understand what it is that -galvanizes you in this manner." -"But, monsieur, it is very natural," returned Bertuccio, -"since it was in this house that my vengeance was -accomplished." -"What my house?" -"Oh, your excellency, it was not yours, then." -"Whose, then? The Marquis de SaintMeran, I think, the -concierge said. What had you to revenge on the Marquis de -SaintMeran?" -"Oh, it was not on him, monsieur it was on another." -"This is strange," returned Monte Cristo, seeming to yield -to his reflections, "that you should find yourself without -any preparation in a house where the event happened that -causes you so much remorse." -"Monsieur," said the steward, "it is fatality, I am sure. -First, you purchase a house at Auteuil this house is the -one where I have committed an assassination you descend to -the garden by the same staircase by which he descended you -stop at the spot where he received the blow and two paces -farther is the grave in which he had just buried his child. -This is not chance, for chance, in this case, is too much -like providence." -"Well, amiable Corsican, let us suppose it is providence. I -always suppose anything people please, and, besides, you -must concede something to diseased minds. Come, collect -yourself, and tell me all." -"I have related it but once, and that was to the Abbe -Busoni. Such things," continued Bertuccio, shaking his head, -"are only related under the seal of confession." -"Then," said the count, "I refer you to your confessor. Turn -Chartreux or Trappist, and relate your secrets, but, as for -me, I do not like any one who is alarmed by such phantasms, -and I do not choose that my servants should be afraid to -walk in the garden of an evening. I confess I am not very -desirous of a visit from the commissary of police, for, in -Italy, justice is only paid when silent in France she is -paid only when she speaks. Peste, I thought you somewhat -Corsican, a great deal smuggler, and an excellent steward -but I see you have other strings to your bow. You are no -longer in my service, Monsieur Bertuccio." -"Oh, your excellency, your excellency" cried the steward, -struck with terror at this threat, "if that is the only -reason I cannot remain in your service, I will tell all, for -if I quit you, it will only be to go to the scaffold." -"That is different," replied Monte Cristo "but if you -intend to tell an untruth, reflect it were better not to -speak at all." -"No, monsieur, I swear to you, by my hopes of salvation, I -will tell you all, for the Abbe Busoni himself only knew a -part of my secret but, I pray you, go away from that -planetree. The moon is just bursting through the clouds, -and there, standing where you do, and wrapped in that cloak -that conceals your figure, you remind me of M. de -Villefort." -"What" cried Monte Cristo, "it was M. de Villefort?" -"Your excellency knows him?" -"The former royal attorney at Nimes?" -"Yes." -"Who married the Marquis of SaintMeran's daughter?" -"Yes." -"Who enjoyed the reputation of being the most severe, the -most upright, the most rigid magistrate on the bench?" -"Well, monsieur," said Bertuccio, "this man with this -spotless reputation" -"Well?" -"Was a villain." -"Bah," replied Monte Cristo, "impossible" -"It is as I tell you." -"Ah, really," said Monte Cristo. "Have you proof of this?" -"I had it." -"And you have lost it how stupid" -"Yes but by careful search it might be recovered." -"Really," returned the count, "relate it to me, for it -begins to interest me." And the count, humming an air from -"Lucia," went to sit down on a bench, while Bertuccio -followed him, collecting his thoughts. Bertuccio remained -standing before him. -Chapter -The Vendetta. -"At what point shall I begin my story, your excellency?" -asked Bertuccio. -"Where you please," returned Monte Cristo, "since I know -nothing at all of it." -"I thought the Abbe Busoni had told your excellency." -"Some particulars, doubtless, but that is seven or eight -years ago, and I have forgotten them." -"Then I can speak without fear of tiring your excellency." -"Go on, M. Bertuccio you will supply the want of the -evening papers." -"The story begins in ." -"Ah," said Monte Cristo, " is not yesterday." -"No, monsieur, and yet I recollect all things as clearly as -if they had happened but then. I had a brother, an elder -brother, who was in the service of the emperor he had -become lieutenant in a regiment composed entirely of -Corsicans. This brother was my only friend we became -orphans I at five, he at eighteen. He brought me up as if -I had been his son, and in he married. When the emperor -returned from the Island of Elba, my brother instantly -joined the army, was slightly wounded at Waterloo, and -retired with the army beyond the Loire." -"But that is the history of the Hundred Days, M. Bertuccio," -said the count "unless I am mistaken, it has been already -written." -"Excuse me, excellency, but these details are necessary, and -you promised to be patient." -"Go on I will keep my word." -"One day we received a letter. I should tell you that we -lived in the little village of Rogliano, at the extremity of -Cape Corso. This letter was from my brother. He told us that -the army was disbanded, and that he should return by -Chateauroux, ClermontFerrand, Le Puy, and Nimes and, if I -had any money, he prayed me to leave it for him at Nimes, -with an innkeeper with whom I had dealings." -"In the smuggling line?" said Monte Cristo. -"Eh, your excellency? Every one must live." -"Certainly go on." -"I loved my brother tenderly, as I told your excellency, and -I resolved not to send the money, but to take it to him -myself. I possessed a thousand francs. I left five hundred -with Assunta, my sisterinlaw, and with the other five -hundred I set off for Nimes. It was easy to do so, and as I -had my boat and a lading to take in at sea, everything -favored my project. But, after we had taken in our cargo, -the wind became contrary, so that we were four or five days -without being able to enter the Rhone. At last, however, we -succeeded, and worked up to Arles. I left the boat between -Bellegarde and Beaucaire, and took the road to Nimes." -"We are getting to the story now?" -"Yes, your excellency excuse me, but, as you will see, I -only tell you what is absolutely necessary. Just at this -time the famous massacres took place in the south of France. -Three brigands, called Trestaillon, Truphemy, and Graffan, -publicly assassinated everybody whom they suspected of -Bonapartism. You have doubtless heard of these massacres, -your excellency?" -"Vaguely I was far from France at that period. Go on." -"As I entered Nimes, I literally waded in blood at every -step you encountered dead bodies and bands of murderers, who -killed, plundered, and burned. At the sight of this -slaughter and devastation I became terrified, not for myself -for I, a simple Corsican fisherman, had nothing to fear -on the contrary, that time was most favorable for us -smugglers but for my brother, a soldier of the empire, -returning from the army of the Loire, with his uniform and -his epaulets, there was everything to apprehend. I hastened -to the innkeeper. My misgivings had been but too true. My -brother had arrived the previous evening at Nimes, and, at -the very door of the house where he was about to demand -hospitality, he had been assassinated. I did all in my power -to discover the murderers, but no one durst tell me their -names, so much were they dreaded. I then thought of that -French justice of which I had heard so much, and which -feared nothing, and I went to the king's attorney." -"And this king's attorney was named Villefort?" asked Monte -Cristo carelessly. -"Yes, your excellency he came from Marseilles, where he had -been deputyprocureur. His zeal had procured him -advancement, and he was said to be one of the first who had -informed the government of the departure from the Island of -Elba." -"Then," said Monte Cristo "you went to him?" -""Monsieur,' I said, "my brother was assassinated yesterday -in the streets of Nimes, I know not by whom, but it is your -duty to find out. You are the representative of justice -here, and it is for justice to avenge those she has been -unable to protect.' "Who was your brother?' asked he. -"A lieutenant in the Corsican battalion.' "A soldier of -the usurper, then?' "A soldier of the French army.' -"Well,' replied he, "he has smitten with the sword, and he -has perished by the sword.' "You are mistaken, monsieur,' -I replied "he has perished by the poniard.' "What do you -want me to do?' asked the magistrate. "I have already -told you avenge him.' "On whom?' "On his -murderers.' "How should I know who they are?' "Order -them to be sought for.' "Why, your brother has been -involved in a quarrel, and killed in a duel. All these old -soldiers commit excesses which were tolerated in the time of -the emperor, but which are not suffered now, for the people -here do not like soldiers of such disorderly conduct.' -"Monsieur,' I replied, "it is not for myself that I entreat -your interference I should grieve for him or avenge him, -but my poor brother had a wife, and were anything to happen -to me, the poor creature would perish from want, for my -brother's pay alone kept her. Pray, try and obtain a small -government pension for her.' -""Every revolution has its catastrophes,' returned M. de -Villefort "your brother has been the victim of this. It is -a misfortune, and government owes nothing to his family. If -we are to judge by all the vengeance that the followers of -the usurper exercised on the partisans of the king, when, in -their turn, they were in power, your brother would be -today, in all probability, condemned to death. What has -happened is quite natural, and in conformity with the law of -reprisals.' "What,' cried I, "do you, a magistrate, speak -thus to me?' "All these Corsicans are mad, on my honor,' -replied M. de Villefort "they fancy that their countryman -is still emperor. You have mistaken the time, you should -have told me this two months ago, it is too late now. Go -now, at once, or I shall have you put out.' -"I looked at him an instant to see if there was anything to -hope from further entreaty. But he was a man of stone. I -approached him, and said in a low voice, "Well, since you -know the Corsicans so well, you know that they always keep -their word. You think that it was a good deed to kill my -brother, who was a Bonapartist, because you are a royalist. -Well, I, who am a Bonapartist also, declare one thing to -you, which is, that I will kill you. From this moment I -declare the vendetta against you, so protect yourself as -well as you can, for the next time we meet your last hour -has come.' And before he had recovered from his surprise, I -opened the door and left the room." -"Well, well," said Monte Cristo, "such an innocent looking -person as you are to do those things, M. Bertuccio, and to a -king's attorney at that But did he know what was meant by -the terrible word "vendetta'?" -"He knew so well, that from that moment he shut himself in -his house, and never went out unattended, seeking me high -and low. Fortunately, I was so well concealed that he could -not find me. Then he became alarmed, and dared not stay any -longer at Nimes, so he solicited a change of residence, and, -as he was in reality very influential, he was nominated to -Versailles. But, as you know, a Corsican who has sworn to -avenge himself cares not for distance, so his carriage, fast -as it went, was never above half a day's journey before me, -who followed him on foot. The most important thing was, not -to kill him only for I had an opportunity of doing so a -hundred times but to kill him without being discovered -at least, without being arrested. I no longer belonged to -myself, for I had my sisterinlaw to protect and provide -for. For three months I watched M. de Villefort, for three -months he took not a step outofdoors without my following -him. At length I discovered that he went mysteriously to -Auteuil. I followed him thither, and I saw him enter the -house where we now are, only, instead of entering by the -great door that looks into the street, he came on horseback, -or in his carriage, left the one or the other at the little -inn, and entered by the gate you see there." Monte Cristo -made a sign with his head to show that he could discern in -the darkness the door to which Bertuccio alluded. "As I had -nothing more to do at Versailles, I went to Auteuil, and -gained all the information I could. If I wished to surprise -him, it was evident this was the spot to lie in wait for -him. The house belonged, as the concierge informed your -excellency, to M. de SaintMeran, Villefort's fatherinlaw. -M. de SaintMeran lived at Marseilles, so that this country -house was useless to him, and it was reported to be let to a -young widow, known only by the name of "the baroness.' -"One evening, as I was looking over the wall, I saw a young -and handsome woman who was walking alone in that garden, -which was not overlooked by any windows, and I guessed that -she was awaiting M. de Villefort. When she was sufficiently -near for me to distinguish her features, I saw she was from -eighteen to nineteen, tall and very fair. As she had a loose -muslin dress on and as nothing concealed her figure, I saw -she would ere long become a mother. A few moments after, the -little door was opened and a man entered. The young woman -hastened to meet him. They threw themselves into each -other's arms, embraced tenderly, and returned together to -the house. The man was M. de Villefort I fully believed -that when he went out in the night he would be forced to -traverse the whole of the garden alone." -"And," asked the count, "did you ever know the name of this -woman?" -"No, excellency," returned Bertuccio "you will see that I -had no time to learn it." -"Go on." -"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killed -the procureur, but as I was not sufficiently acquainted with -the neighborhood, I was fearful of not killing him on the -spot, and that if his cries were overheard I might be taken -so I put it off until the next occasion, and in order that -nothing should escape me, I took a chamber looking into the -street bordered by the wall of the garden. Three days after, -about seven o'clock in the evening, I saw a servant on -horseback leave the house at full gallop, and take the road -to Sevres. I concluded that he was going to Versailles, and -I was not deceived. Three hours later, the man returned -covered with dust, his errand was performed, and two minutes -after, another man on foot, muffled in a mantle, opened the -little door of the garden, which he closed after him. I -descended rapidly although I had not seen Villefort's face, -I recognized him by the beating of my heart. I crossed the -street, and stopped at a post placed at the angle of the -wall, and by means of which I had once before looked into -the garden. This time I did not content myself with looking, -but I took my knife out of my pocket, felt that the point -was sharp, and sprang over the wall. My first care was to -run to the door he had left the key in it, taking the -simple precaution of turning it twice in the lock. Nothing, -then, preventing my escape by this means, I examined the -grounds. The garden was long and narrow a stretch of smooth -turf extended down the middle, and at the corners were -clumps of trees with thick and massy foliage, that made a -background for the shrubs and flowers. In order to go from -the door to the house, or from the house to the door, M. de -Villefort would be obliged to pass by one of these clumps of -trees. -"It was the end of September the wind blew violently. The -faint glimpses of the pale moon, hidden momentarily by -masses of dark clouds that were sweeping across the sky, -whitened the gravel walks that led to the house, but were -unable to pierce the obscurity of the thick shrubberies, in -which a man could conceal himself without any fear of -discovery. I hid myself in the one nearest to the path -Villefort must take, and scarcely was I there when, amidst -the gusts of wind, I fancied I heard groans but you know, -or rather you do not know, your excellency, that he who is -about to commit an assassination fancies that he hears low -cries perpetually ringing in his ears. Two hours passed -thus, during which I imagined I heard moans repeatedly. -Midnight struck. As the last stroke died away, I saw a faint -light shine through the windows of the private staircase by -which we have just descended. The door opened, and the man -in the mantle reappeared. The terrible moment had come, but -I had so long been prepared for it that my heart did not -fail in the least. I drew my knife from my pocket again, -opened it, and made ready to strike. The man in the mantle -advanced towards me, but as he drew near I saw that he had a -weapon in his hand. I was afraid, not of a struggle, but of -a failure. When he was only a few paces from me, I saw that -what I had taken for a weapon was only a spade. I was still -unable to divine for what reason M. de Villefort had this -spade in his hands, when he stopped close to the thicket -where I was, glanced round, and began to dig a hole in the -earth. I then perceived that he was hiding something under -his mantle, which he laid on the grass in order to dig more -freely. Then, I confess, curiosity mingled with hatred I -wished to see what Villefort was going to do there, and I -remained motionless, holding my breath. Then an idea crossed -my mind, which was confirmed when I saw the procureur lift -from under his mantle a box, two feet long, and six or eight -inches deep. I let him place the box in the hole he had -made, then, while he stamped with his feet to remove all -traces of his occupation, I rushed on him and plunged my -knife into his breast, exclaiming, "I am Giovanni -Bertuccio thy death for my brother's thy treasure for his -widow thou seest that my vengeance is more complete than I -had hoped.' I know not if he heard these words I think he -did not, for he fell without a cry. I felt his blood gush -over my face, but I was intoxicated, I was delirious, and -the blood refreshed, instead of burning me. In a second I -had disinterred the box then, that it might not be known I -had done so, I filled up the hole, threw the spade over the -wall, and rushed through the door, which I doublelocked, -carrying off the key." -"Ah," said Monte Cristo "it seems to me this was nothing but -murder and robbery." -"No, your excellency," returned Bertuccio "it was a -vendetta followed by restitution." -"And was the sum a large one?" -"It was not money." -"Ah, I recollect," replied the count "did you not say -something of an infant?" -"Yes, excellency I hastened to the river, sat down on the -bank, and with my knife forced open the lock of the box. In -a fine linen cloth was wrapped a newborn child. Its purple -visage, and its violetcolored hands showed that it had -perished from suffocation, but as it was not yet cold, I -hesitated to throw it into the water that ran at my feet. -After a moment I fancied that I felt a slight pulsation of -the heart, and as I had been assistant at the hospital at -Bastia, I did what a doctor would have done I inflated -the lungs by blowing air into them, and at the expiration of -a quarter of an hour, it began to breathe, and cried feebly. -In my turn I uttered a cry, but a cry of joy. "God has not -cursed me then,' I cried, "since he permits me to save the -life of a human creature, in exchange for the life I have -taken away.'" -"And what did you do with the child?" asked Monte Cristo. -"It was an embarrassing load for a man seeking to escape." -"I had not for a moment the idea of keeping it, but I knew -that at Paris there was an asylum where they receive such -creatures. As I passed the city gates I declared that I had -found the child on the road, and I inquired where the asylum -was the box confirmed my statement, the linen proved that -the infant belonged to wealthy parents, the blood with which -I was covered might have proceeded from the child as well as -from any one else. No objection was raised, but they pointed -out the asylum, which was situated at the upper end of the -Rue d'Enfer, and after having taken the precaution of -cutting the linen in two pieces, so that one of the two -letters which marked it was on the piece wrapped around the -child, while the other remained in my possession, I rang the -bell, and fled with all speed. A fortnight after I was at -Rogliano, and I said to Assunta, "Console thyself, -sister Israel is dead, but he is avenged.' She demanded -what I meant, and when I had told her all, "Giovanni,' -said she, "you should have brought this child with you we -would have replaced the parents it has lost, have called it -Benedetto, and then, in consequence of this good action, God -would have blessed us.' In reply I gave her the half of the -linen I had kept in order to reclaim him if we became rich." -"What letters were marked on the linen?" said Monte Cristo. -"An H and an N, surmounted by a baron's coronet." -"By heaven, M. Bertuccio, you make use of heraldic terms -where did you study heraldry?" -"In your service, excellency, where everything is learned." -"Go on, I am curious to know two things." -"What are they, your excellency ?" -"What became of this little boy? for I think you told me it -was a boy, M. Bertuccio." -"No excellency, I do not recollect telling you that." -"I thought you did I must have been mistaken." -"No, you were not, for it was in reality a little boy. But -your excellency wished to know two things what was the -second?" -"The second was the crime of which you were accused when you -asked for a confessor, and the Abbe Busoni came to visit you -at your request in the prison at Nimes." -"The story will be very long, excellency." -"What matter? you know I take but little sleep, and I do not -suppose you are very much inclined for it either." Bertuccio -bowed, and resumed his story. -"Partly to drown the recollections of the past that haunted -me, partly to supply the wants of the poor widow, I eagerly -returned to my trade of smuggler, which had become more easy -since that relaxation of the laws which always follows a -revolution. The southern districts were illwatched in -particular, in consequence of the disturbances that were -perpetually breaking out in Avignon, Nimes, or Uzes. We -profited by this respite on the part of the government to -make friends everywhere. Since my brother's assassination in -the streets of Nimes, I had never entered the town the -result was that the innkeeper with whom we were connected, -seeing that we would no longer come to him, was forced to -come to us, and had established a branch to his inn, on the -road from Bellegarde to Beaucaire, at the sign of the Pont -du Gard. We had thus, at AiguesMortes, Martigues, or Bouc, -a dozen places where we left our goods, and where, in case -of necessity, we concealed ourselves from the gendarmes and -customhouse officers. Smuggling is a profitable trade, when -a certain degree of vigor and intelligence is employed as -for myself, brought up in the mountains, I had a double -motive for fearing the gendarmes and customhouse officers, -as my appearance before the judges would cause an inquiry, -and an inquiry always looks back into the past. And in my -past life they might find something far more grave than the -selling of smuggled cigars, or barrels of brandy without a -permit. So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the -most astonishing deeds, and which, more than once, showed me -that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only -obstacle to the success of those projects which require -rapid decision, and vigorous and determined execution. In -reality, when you have once devoted your life to your -enterprises, you are no longer the equal of other men, or, -rather, other men are no longer your equals, and whosoever -has taken this resolution, feels his strength and resources -doubled." -"Philosophy, M. Bertuccio," interrupted the Count "you have -done a little of everything in your life." -"Oh, excellency," -"No, no but philosophy at halfpast ten at night is -somewhat late yet I have no other observation to make, for -what you say is correct, which is more than can be said for -all philosophy." -"My journeys became more and more extensive and more -productive. Assunta took care of all, and our little fortune -increased. One day as I was setting off on an expedition, -"Go,' said she "at your return I will give you a surprise.' -I questioned her, but in vain she would tell me nothing, -and I departed. Our expedition lasted nearly six weeks we -had been to Lucca to take in oil, to Leghorn for English -cottons, and we ran our cargo without opposition, and -returned home full of joy. When I entered the house, the -first thing I beheld in the middle of Assunta's chamber was -a cradle that might be called sumptuous compared with the -rest of the furniture, and in it a baby seven or eight -months old. I uttered a cry of joy the only moments of -sadness I had known since the assassination of the procureur -were caused by the recollection that I had abandoned this -child. For the assassination itself I had never felt any -remorse. Poor Assunta had guessed all. She had profited by -my absence, and furnished with the half of the linen, and -having written down the day and hour at which I had -deposited the child at the asylum, had set off for Paris, -and had reclaimed it. No objection was raised, and the -infant was given up to her. Ah, I confess, your excellency, -when I saw this poor creature sleeping peacefully in its -cradle, I felt my eyes filled with tears. "Ah, Assunta,' -cried I, "you are an excellent woman, and heaven will bless -you.'" -"This," said Monte Cristo, "is less correct than your -philosophy, it is only faith." -"Alas, your excellency is right," replied Bertuccio, "and -God made this infant the instrument of our punishment. Never -did a perverse nature declare itself more prematurely, and -yet it was not owing to any fault in his bringing up. He was -a most lovely child, with large blue eyes, of that deep -color that harmonizes so well with the blond complexion -only his hair, which was too light, gave his face a most -singular expression, and added to the vivacity of his look, -and the malice of his smile. Unfortunately, there is a -proverb which says that "red is either altogether good or -altogether bad.' The proverb was but too correct as regarded -Benedetto, and even in his infancy he manifested the worst -disposition. It is true that the indulgence of his -fostermother encouraged him. This child, for whom my poor -sister would go to the town, five or six leagues off, to -purchase the earliest fruits and the most tempting -sweetmeats, preferred to Palma grapes or Genoese preserves, -the chestnuts stolen from a neighbor's orchard, or the dried -apples in his loft, when he could eat as well of the nuts -and apples that grew in my garden. One day, when Benedetto -was about five or six, our neighbor Vasilio, who, according -to the custom of the country, never locked up his purse or -his valuables for, as your excellency knows, there are no -thieves in Corsica complained that he had lost a louis -out of his purse we thought he must have made a mistake in -counting his money, but he persisted in the accuracy of his -statement. One day, Benedetto, who had been gone from the -house since morning, to our great anxiety, did not return -until late in the evening, dragging a monkey after him, -which he said he had found chained to the foot of a tree. -For more than a month past, the mischievous child, who knew -not what to wish for, had taken it into his head to have a -monkey. A boatman, who had passed by Rogliano, and who had -several of these animals, whose tricks had greatly diverted -him, had, doubtless, suggested this idea to him. "Monkeys -are not found in our woods chained to trees,' said I -"confess how you obtained this animal.' Benedetto maintained -the truth of what he had said, and accompanied it with -details that did more honor to his imagination than to his -veracity. I became angry he began to laugh, I threatened to -strike him, and he made two steps backwards. "You cannot -beat me,' said he "you have no right, for you are not my -father.' -"We never knew who had revealed this fatal secret, which we -had so carefully concealed from him however, it was this -answer, in which the child's whole character revealed -itself, that almost terrified me, and my arm fell without -touching him. The boy triumphed, and this victory rendered -him so audacious, that all the money of Assunta, whose -affection for him seemed to increase as he became more -unworthy of it, was spent in caprices she knew not how to -contend against, and follies she had not the courage to -prevent. When I was at Rogliano everything went on properly, -but no sooner was my back turned than Benedetto became -master, and everything went ill. When he was only eleven, he -chose his companions from among the young men of eighteen or -twenty, the worst characters in Bastia, or, indeed, in -Corsica, and they had already, for some mischievous pranks, -been several times threatened with a prosecution. I became -alarmed, as any prosecution might be attended with serious -consequences. I was compelled, at this period, to leave -Corsica on an important expedition I reflected for a long -time, and with the hope of averting some impending -misfortune, I resolved that Benedetto should accompany me. I -hoped that the active and laborious life of a smuggler, with -the severe discipline on board, would have a salutary effect -on his character, which was now wellnigh, if not quite, -corrupt. I spoke to Benedetto alone, and proposed to him to -accompany me, endeavoring to tempt him by all the promises -most likely to dazzle the imagination of a child of twelve. -He heard me patiently, and when I had finished, burst out -laughing. -""Are you mad, uncle?' he called me by this name when he -was in good humor "do you think I am going to change the -life I lead for your mode of existence my agreeable -indolence for the hard and precarious toil you impose on -yourself, exposed to the bitter frost at night, and the -scorching heat by day, compelled to conceal yourself, and -when you are perceived, receive a volley of bullets, all to -earn a paltry sum? Why, I have as much money as I want -mother Assunta always furnishes me when I ask for it You -see that I should be a fool to accept your offer.' The -arguments, and his audacity, perfectly stupefied me. -Benedetto rejoined his associates, and I saw him from a -distance point me out to them as a fool." -"Sweet child," murmured Monte Cristo. -"Oh, had he been my own son," replied Bertuccio, "or even my -nephew, I would have brought him back to the right road, for -the knowledge that you are doing your duty gives you -strength, but the idea that I was striking a child whose -father I had killed, made it impossible for me to punish -him. I gave my sister, who constantly defended the -unfortunate boy, good advice, and as she confessed that she -had several times missed money to a considerable amount, I -showed her a safe place in which to conceal our little -treasure for the future. My mind was already made up. -Benedetto could read, write, and cipher perfectly, for when -the fit seized him, he learned more in a day than others in -a week. My intention was to enter him as a clerk in some -ship, and without letting him know anything of my plan, to -convey him some morning on board by this means his future -treatment would depend upon his own conduct. I set off for -France, after having fixed upon the plan. Our cargo was to -be landed in the Gulf of Lyons, and this was a difficult -thing to do because it was then the year . The most -perfect tranquillity was restored, and the vigilance of the -customhouse officers was redoubled, and their strictness -was increased at this time, in consequence of the fair at -Beaucaire. -"Our expedition made a favorable beginning. We anchored our -vessel which had a double hold, where our goods were -concealed amidst a number of other vessels that bordered -the banks of the Rhone from Beaucaire to Arles. On our -arrival we began to discharge our cargo in the night, and to -convey it into the town, by the help of the innkeeper with -whom we were connected. Whether success rendered us -imprudent, or whether we were betrayed, I know not but one -evening, about five o'clock, our little cabinboy came -breathlessly, to inform us that he had seen a detachment of -customhouse officers advancing in our direction. It was not -their proximity that alarmed us, for detachments were -constantly patrolling along the banks of the Rhone, but the -care, according to the boy's account, that they took to -avoid being seen. In an instant we were on the alert, but it -was too late our vessel was surrounded, and amongst the -customhouse officers I observed several gendarmes, and, as -terrified at the sight of their uniforms as I was brave at -the sight of any other, I sprang into the hold, opened a -port, and dropped into the river, dived, and only rose at -intervals to breathe, until I reached a ditch that had -recently been made from the Rhone to the canal that runs -from Beaucaire to AiguesMortes. I was now safe, for I could -swim along the ditch without being seen, and I reached the -canal in safety. I had designedly taken this direction. I -have already told your excellency of an innkeeper from -Nimes who had set up a little tavern on the road from -Bellegarde to Beaucaire." -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I perfectly recollect him I think -he was your colleague." -"Precisely," answered Bertuccio "but he had, seven or eight -years before this period, sold his establishment to a tailor -at Marseilles, who, having almost ruined himself in his old -trade, wished to make his fortune in another. Of course, we -made the same arrangements with the new landlord that we had -with the old and it was of this man that I intended to ask -shelter." -"What was his name?" inquired the count, who seemed to -become somewhat interested in Bertuccio's story. -"Gaspard Caderousse he had married a woman from the village -of Carconte, and whom we did not know by any other name than -that of her village. She was suffering from malarial fever, -and seemed dying by inches. As for her husband, he was a -strapping fellow of forty, or five and forty, who had more -than once, in time of danger, given ample proof of his -presence of mind and courage." -"And you say," interrupted Monte Cristo "that this took -place towards the year" -", your excellency." -"In what month?" -"June." -"The beginning or the end?" -"The evening of the d." -"Ah," said Monte Cristo "the evening of the d of June, -. Go on." -"It was from Caderousse that I intended demanding shelter, -and, as we never entered by the door that opened onto the -road, I resolved not to break through the rule, so climbing -over the gardenhedge, I crept amongst the olive and wild -fig trees, and fearing that Caderousse might have some -guest, I entered a kind of shed in which I had often passed -the night, and which was only separated from the inn by a -partition, in which holes had been made in order to enable -us to watch an opportunity of announcing our presence. My -intention was, if Caderousse was alone, to acquaint him with -my presence, finish the meal the customhouse officers had -interrupted, and profit by the threatened storm to return to -the Rhone, and ascertain the state of our vessel and its -crew. I stepped into the shed, and it was fortunate I did -so, for at that moment Caderousse entered with a stranger. -"I waited patiently, not to overhear what they said, but -because I could do nothing else besides, the same thing had -occurred often before. The man who was with Caderousse was -evidently a stranger to the South of France he was one of -those merchants who come to sell jewellery at the Beaucaire -fair, and who during the month the fair lasts, and during -which there is so great an influx of merchants and customers -from all parts of Europe, often have dealings to the amount -of , to , francs. Caderousse entered hastily. -Then, seeing that the room was, as usual, empty, and only -guarded by the dog, he called to his wife, "Hello, -Carconte,' said he, "the worthy priest has not deceived us -the diamond is real.' An exclamation of joy was heard, and -the staircase creaked beneath a feeble step. "What do you -say?' asked his wife, pale as death. -""I say that the diamond is real, and that this gentleman, -one of the first jewellers of Paris, will give us , -francs for it. Only, in order to satisfy himself that it -really belongs to us, he wishes you to relate to him, as I -have done already, the miraculous manner in which the -diamond came into our possession. In the meantime please to -sit down, monsieur, and I will fetch you some refreshment.' -The jeweller examined attentively the interior of the inn -and the apparent poverty of the persons who were about to -sell him a diamond that seemed to have come from the casket -of a prince. "Relate your story, madame,' said he, wishing, -no doubt, to profit by the absence of the husband, so that -the latter could not influence the wife's story, to see if -the two recitals tallied. -""Oh,' returned she, "it was a gift of heaven. My husband -was a great friend, in or , of a sailor named -Edmond Dantes. This poor fellow, whom Caderousse had -forgotten, had not forgotten him, and at his death he -bequeathed this diamond to him.' "But how did he obtain -it?' asked the jeweller "had he it before he was -imprisoned?' "No, monsieur but it appears that in prison -he made the acquaintance of a rich Englishman, and as in -prison he fell sick, and Dantes took the same care of him as -if he had been his brother, the Englishman, when he was set -free, gave this stone to Dantes, who, less fortunate, died, -and, in his turn, left it to us, and charged the excellent -abbe, who was here this morning, to deliver it.' "The -same story,' muttered the jeweller "and improbable as it -seemed at first, it may be true. There's only the price we -are not agreed about.' "How not agreed about?' said -Caderousse. "I thought we agreed for the price I asked.' -"That is,' replied the jeweller, "I offered , francs.' -"Forty thousand,' cried La Carconte "we will not part -with it for that sum. The abbe told us it was worth , -without the setting.' -""What was the abbe's name?' asked the indefatigable -questioner. "The Abbe Busoni,' said La Carconte. "He -was a foreigner?' "An Italian, from the neighborhood of -Mantua, I believe.' "Let me see this diamond again,' -replied the jeweller "the first time you are often mistaken -as to the value of a stone.' Caderousse took from his pocket -a small case of black shagreen, opened, and gave it to the -jeweller. At the sight of the diamond, which was as large as -a hazelnut, La Carconte's eyes sparkled with cupidity." -"And what did you think of this fine story, eavesdropper?" -said Monte Cristo "did you credit it?" -"Yes, your excellency. I did not look on Caderousse as a bad -man, and I thought him incapable of committing a crime, or -even a theft." -"That did more honor to your heart than to your experience, -M. Bertuccio. Had you known this Edmond Dantes, of whom they -spoke?" -"No, your excellency, I had never heard of him before, and -never but once afterwards, and that was from the Abbe Busoni -himself, when I saw him in the prison at Nimes." -"Go on." -"The jeweller took the ring, and drawing from his pocket a -pair of steel pliers and a small set of copper scales, he -took the stone out of its setting, and weighed it carefully. -"I will give you ,,' said he, "but not a sou more -besides, as that is the exact value of the stone, I brought -just that sum with me.' "Oh, that's no matter,' replied -Caderousse, "I will go back with you to fetch the other -, francs.' "No,' returned the jeweller, giving back -the diamond and the ring to Caderousse "no, it is worth -no more, and I am sorry I offered so much, for the stone has -a flaw in it, which I had not seen. However, I will not go -back on my word, and I will give ,.' "At least, -replace the diamond in the ring,' said La Carconte sharply. -"Ah, true,' replied the jeweller, and he reset the stone. -"No matter,' observed Caderousse, replacing the box in -his pocket, "some one else will purchase it.' "Yes,' -continued the jeweller "but some one else will not be so -easy as I am, or content himself with the same story. It is -not natural that a man like you should possess such a -diamond. He will inform against you. You will have to find -the Abbe Busoni and abbes who give diamonds worth two -thousand louis are rare. The law would seize it, and put you -in prison if at the end of three or four months you are set -at liberty, the ring will be lost, or a false stone, worth -three francs, will be given you, instead of a diamond worth -, or perhaps , francs from which you must allow -that one runs considerable risk in purchasing.' Caderousse -and his wife looked eagerly at each other. "No,' said -Caderousse, "we are not rich enough to lose , francs.' -"As you please, my dear sir,' said the, jeweller "I had, -however, as you see, brought you the money in bright coin.' -And he drew from his pocket a handful of gold, and held it -sparkling before the dazzled eyes of the innkeeper, and in -the other hand he held a packet of banknotes. -"There was evidently a severe struggle in the mind of -Caderousse it was plain that the small shagreen case, which -he turned over and over in his hand, did not seem to him -commensurate in value to the enormous sum which fascinated -his gaze. He turned towards his wife. "What do you think of -this?' he asked in a low voice. "Let him have it let -him have it,' she said. "If he returns to Beaucaire without -the diamond, he will inform against us, and, as he says, who -knows if we shall ever again see the Abbe Busoni? in all -probability we shall never see him.' "Well, then, so I -will' said Caderousse "so you may have the diamond for -, francs. But my wife wants a gold chain, and I want a -pair of silver buckles.' The jeweller drew from his pocket a -long flat box, which contained several samples of the -articles demanded. "Here,' he said, "I am very -straightforward in my dealings take your choice.' The -woman selected a gold chain worth about five louis, and the -husband a pair of buckles, worth perhaps fifteen francs. -"I hope you will not complain now?' said the jeweller. -""The abbe told me it was worth , francs,' muttered -Caderousse. "Come, come give it to me What a strange -fellow you are,' said the jeweller, taking the diamond from -his hand. "I give you , francs that is, , livres -of income, a fortune such as I wish I had myself, and you -are not satisfied' "And the five and forty thousand -francs,' inquired Caderousse in a hoarse voice, "where are -they? Come let us see them.' "Here they are,' replied -the jeweller, and he counted out upon the table , -francs in gold, and , francs in banknotes. -""Wait while I light the lamp,' said La Carconte "it is -growing dark, and there may be some mistake.' In fact, night -had come on during this conversation, and with night the -storm which had been threatening for the last halfhour. The -thunder growled in the distance but it was apparently not -heard by the jeweller, Caderousse, or La Carconte, absorbed -as they were all three with the demon of gain. I myself -felt a strange kind of fascination at the sight of all this -gold and all these banknotes it seemed to me that I was in -a dream, and, as it always happens in a dream, I felt myself -riveted to the spot. Caderousse counted and again counted -the gold and the notes, then handed them to his wife, who -counted and counted them again in her turn. During this -time, the jeweller made the diamond play and sparkle in the -lamplight, and the gem threw out jets of light which made -him unmindful of those which precursors of the storm -began to play in at the windows. "Well,' inquired the -jeweller, "is the cash all right?' -""Yes,' said Caderousse. "Give me the pocketbook, La -Carconte, and find a bag somewhere.' -"La Carconte went to a cupboard, and returned with an old -leathern pocketbook and a bag. From the former she took -some greasy letters, and put in their place the banknotes, -and from the bag took two or three crowns of six livres -each, which, in all probability, formed the entire fortune -of the miserable couple. "There,' said Caderousse "and now, -although you have wronged us of perhaps , francs, will -you have your supper with us? I invite you with goodwill.' -"Thank you,' replied the jeweller, "it must be getting -late, and I must return to Beaucaire my wife will be -getting uneasy.' He drew out his watch, and exclaimed, -"Morbleu, nearly nine o'clock why, I shall not get back -to Beaucaire before midnight Goodnight, my friends. If the -Abbe Busoni should by any accident return, think of me.' -"In another week you will have left Beaucaire.' remarked -Caderousse, "for the fair ends in a few days.' "True, but -that makes no difference. Write to me at Paris, to M. -Joannes, in the Palais Royal, arcade Pierre, No. . I will -make the journey on purpose to see him, if it is worth -while.' At this moment there was a tremendous clap of -thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning so vivid, that -it quite eclipsed the light of the lamp. -""See here,' exclaimed Caderousse. "You cannot think of -going out in such weather as this.' "Oh, I am not afraid -of thunder,' said the jeweller. "And then there are -robbers,' said La Carconte. "The road is never very safe -during fair time.' "Oh, as to the robbers,' said Joannes, -"here is something for them,' and he drew from his pocket a -pair of small pistols, loaded to the muzzle. "Here,' said -he, "are dogs who bark and bite at the same time, they are -for the two first who shall have a longing for your diamond, -Friend Caderousse.' -"Caderousse and his wife again interchanged a meaning look. -It seemed as though they were both inspired at the same time -with some horrible thought. "Well, then, a good journey to -you,' said Caderousse. "Thanks,' replied the jeweller. He -then took his cane, which he had placed against an old -cupboard, and went out. At the moment when he opened the -door, such a gust of wind came in that the lamp was nearly -extinguished. "Oh,' said he, "this is very nice weather, and -two leagues to go in such a storm.' "Remain,' said -Caderousse. "You can sleep here.' "Yes do stay,' added -La Carconte in a tremulous voice "we will take every care -of you.' "No I must sleep at Beaucaire. So, once more, -goodnight.' Caderousse followed him slowly to the -threshold. "I can see neither heaven nor earth,' said the -jeweller, who was outside the door. "Do I turn to the right, -or to the left hand?' "To the right,' said Caderousse. -"You cannot go wrong the road is bordered by trees on -both sides.' "Good all right,' said a voice almost -lost in the distance. "Close the door,' said La Carconte "I -do not like open doors when it thunders.' "Particularly -when there is money in the house, eh?' answered Caderousse, -doublelocking the door. -"He came into the room, went to the cupboard, took out the -bag and pocketbook, and both began, for the third time, to -count their gold and banknotes. I never saw such an -expression of cupidity as the flickering lamp revealed in -those two countenances. The woman, especially, was hideous -her usual feverish tremulousness was intensified, her -countenance had become livid, and her eyes resembled burning -coals. "Why,' she inquired in a hoarse voice, "did you -invite him to sleep here tonight?' "Why?' said -Caderousse with a shudder "why, that he might not have the -trouble of returning to Beaucaire.' "Ah,' responded the -woman, with an expression impossible to describe "I thought -it was for something else.' "Woman, woman why do you -have such ideas?' cried Caderousse "or, if you have them, -why don't you keep them to yourself?' "Well,' said La -Carconte, after a moment's pause, "you are not a man.' -"What do you mean?' added Caderousse. "If you had been a -man, you would not have let him go from here.' "Woman' -"Or else he should not have reached Beaucaire.' -"Woman' "The road takes a turn he is obliged to -follow it while alongside of the canal there is a shorter -road.' "Woman you offend the good God. There -listen' And at this moment there was a tremendous peal of -thunder, while the livid lightning illumined the room, and -the thunder, rolling away in the distance, seemed to -withdraw unwillingly from the cursed abode. "Mercy' said -Caderousse, crossing himself. -At the same moment, and in the midst of the terrifying -silence which usually follows a clap of thunder, they heard -a knocking at the door. Caderousse and his wife started and -looked aghast at each other. "Who's there?' cried -Caderousse, rising, and drawing up in a heap the gold and -notes scattered over the table, and which he covered with -his two hands. "It is I,' shouted a voice. "And who -are you?' "Eh, pardieu, Joannes, the jeweller.' "Well, -and you said I offended the good God,' said La Carconte with -a horrid smile. "Why, the good God sends him back again.' -Caderousse sank pale and breathless into his chair. La -Carconte, on the contrary, rose, and going with a firm step -towards the door, opened it, saying, as she did so "Come -in, dear M. Joannes.' "Ma foi,' said the jeweller, -drenched with rain, "I am not destined to return to -Beaucaire tonight. The shortest follies are best, my dear -Caderousse. You offered me hospitality, and I accept it, and -have returned to sleep beneath your friendly roof.' -Caderousse stammered out something, while he wiped away the -sweat that started to his brow. La Carconte doublelocked -the door behind the jeweller. -Chapter -The Rain of Blood. -"As the jeweller returned to the apartment, he cast around -him a scrutinizing glance but there was nothing to excite -suspicion, if it did not exist, or to confirm it, if it were -already awakened. Caderousse's hands still grasped the gold -and banknotes, and La Carconte called up her sweetest -smiles while welcoming the reappearance of their guest. -"Well, well,' said the jeweller, "you seem, my good friends, -to have had some fears respecting the accuracy of your -money, by counting it over so carefully directly I was -gone.' "Oh, no,' answered Caderousse, "that was not my -reason, I can assure you but the circumstances by which we -have become possessed of this wealth are so unexpected, as -to make us scarcely credit our good fortune, and it is only -by placing the actual proof of our riches before our eyes -that we can persuade ourselves that the whole affair is not -a dream.' The jeweller smiled. "Have you any other guests -in your house?' inquired he. "Nobody but ourselves,' -replied Caderousse "the fact is, we do not lodge travellers -indeed, our tavern is so near the town, that nobody would -think of stopping here. "Then I am afraid I shall very -much inconvenience you.' "Inconvenience us? Not at all, -my dear sir,' said La Carconte in her most gracious manner. -"Not at all, I assure you.' "But where will you manage to -stow me?' "In the chamber overhead.' "Surely that is -where you yourselves sleep?' "Never mind that we have a -second bed in the adjoining room.' Caderousse stared at his -wife with much astonishment. -"The jeweller, meanwhile, was humming a song as he stood -warming his back at the fire La Carconte had kindled to dry -the wet garments of her guest and this done, she next -occupied herself in arranging his supper, by spreading a -napkin at the end of the table, and placing on it the -slender remains of their dinner, to which she added three or -four freshlaid eggs. Caderousse had once more parted with -his treasure the banknotes were replaced in the -pocketbook, the gold put back into the bag, and the whole -carefully locked in the cupboard. He then began pacing the -room with a pensive and gloomy air, glancing from time to -time at the jeweller, who stood reeking with the steam from -his wet clothes, and merely changing his place on the warm -hearth, to enable the whole of his garments to be dried. -""There,' said La Carconte, as she placed a bottle of wine -on the table, "supper is ready whenever you are.' "And -you?' asked Joannes. "I don't want any supper,' said -Caderousse. "We dined so very late,' hastily interposed -La Carconte. "Then it seems I am to eat alone,' remarked -the jeweller. "Oh, we shall have the pleasure of waiting -upon you,' answered La Carconte, with an eager attention she -was not accustomed to manifest even to guests who paid for -what they took. -"From time to time Caderousse darted on his wife keen, -searching glances, but rapid as the lightning flash. The -storm still continued. "There, there,' said La Carconte "do -you hear that? upon my word, you did well to come back.' -"Nevertheless,' replied the jeweller, "if by the time I have -finished my supper the tempest has at all abated, I shall -make another start.' "It's the mistral,' said Caderousse, -"and it will be sure to last till tomorrow morning.' He -sighed heavily. "Well,' said the jeweller, as he placed -himself at table, "all I can say is, so much the worse for -those who are abroad.' "Yes,' chimed in La Carconte, -"they will have a wretched night of it.' -"The jeweller began eating his supper, and the woman, who -was ordinarily so querulous and indifferent to all who -approached her, was suddenly transformed into the most -smiling and attentive hostess. Had the unhappy man on whom -she lavished her assiduities been previously acquainted with -her, so sudden an alteration might well have excited -suspicion in his mind, or at least have greatly astonished -him. Caderousse, meanwhile, continued to pace the room in -gloomy silence, sedulously avoiding the sight of his guest -but as soon as the stranger had completed his repast, the -agitated innkeeper went eagerly to the door and opened it. -"I believe the storm is over,' said he. But as if to -contradict his statement, at that instant a violent clap of -thunder seemed to shake the house to its very foundation, -while a sudden gust of wind, mingled with rain, extinguished -the lamp he held in his hand. Trembling and awestruck, -Caderousse hastily shut the door and returned to his guest, -while La Carconte lighted a candle by the smouldering ashes -that glimmered on the hearth. "You must be tired,' said she -to the jeweller "I have spread a pair of white sheets on -your bed go up when you are ready, and sleep well.' -"Joannes stayed for a while to see whether the storm seemed -to abate in its fury, but a brief space of time sufficed to -assure him that, instead of diminishing, the violence of the -rain and thunder momentarily increased resigning himself, -therefore, to what seemed inevitable, he bade his host -goodnight, and mounted the stairs. He passed over my head -and I heard the flooring creak beneath his footsteps. The -quick, eager glance of La Carconte followed him as he -ascended, while Caderousse, on the contrary, turned his -back, and seemed most anxiously to avoid even glancing at -him. -"All these circumstances did not strike me as painfully at -the time as they have since done in fact, all that had -happened with the exception of the story of the diamond, -which certainly did wear an air of improbability, appeared -natural enough, and called for neither apprehension nor -mistrust but, worn out as I was with fatigue, and fully -purposing to proceed onwards directly the tempest abated, I -determined to obtain a few hours' sleep. Overhead I could -accurately distinguish every movement of the jeweller, who, -after making the best arrangements in his power for passing -a comfortable night, threw himself on his bed, and I could -hear it creak and groan beneath his weight. Insensibly my -eyelids grew heavy, deep sleep stole over me, and having no -suspicion of anything wrong, I sought not to shake it off. I -looked into the kitchen once more and saw Caderousse sitting -by the side of a long table upon one of the low wooden -stools which in country places are frequently used instead -of chairs his back was turned towards me, so that I could -not see the expression of his countenance neither should -I have been able to do so had he been placed differently, as -his head was buried between his two hands. La Carconte -continued to gaze on him for some time, then shrugging her -shoulders, she took her seat immediately opposite to him. At -this moment the expiring embers threw up a fresh flame from -the kindling of a piece of wood that lay near, and a bright -light flashed over the room. La Carconte still kept her eyes -fixed on her husband, but as he made no sign of changing his -position, she extended her hard, bony hand, and touched him -on the forehead. -"Caderousse shuddered. The woman's lips seemed to move, as -though she were talking but because she merely spoke in an -undertone, or my senses were dulled by sleep, I did not -catch a word she uttered. Confused sights and sounds seemed -to float before me, and gradually I fell into a deep, heavy -slumber. How long I had been in this unconscious state I -know not, when I was suddenly aroused by the report of a -pistol, followed by a fearful cry. Weak and tottering -footsteps resounded across the chamber above me, and the -next instant a dull, heavy weight seemed to fall powerless -on the staircase. I had not yet fully recovered -consciousness, when again I heard groans, mingled with -halfstifled cries, as if from persons engaged in a deadly -struggle. A cry more prolonged than the others and ending in -a series of groans effectually roused me from my drowsy -lethargy. Hastily raising myself on one arm, I looked -around, but all was dark and it seemed to me as if the rain -must have penetrated through the flooring of the room above, -for some kind of moisture appeared to fall, drop by drop, -upon my forehead, and when I passed my hand across my brow, -I felt that it was wet and clammy. -"To the fearful noises that had awakened me had succeeded -the most perfect silence unbroken, save by the footsteps -of a man walking about in the chamber above. The staircase -creaked, he descended into the room below, approached the -fire and lit a candle. The man was Caderousse he was pale -and his shirt was all blood. Having obtained the light, he -hurried upstairs again, and once more I heard his rapid and -uneasy footsteps. A moment later he came down again, holding -in his hand the small shagreen case, which he opened, to -assure himself it contained the diamond, seemed to -hesitate as to which pocket he should put it in, then, as if -dissatisfied with the security of either pocket, he -deposited it in his red handkerchief, which he carefully -rolled round his head. After this he took from his cupboard -the banknotes and gold he had put there, thrust the one -into the pocket of his trousers, and the other into that of -his waistcoat, hastily tied up a small bundle of linen, and -rushing towards the door, disappeared in the darkness of the -night. -"Then all became clear and manifest to me, and I reproached -myself with what had happened, as though I myself had done -the guilty deed. I fancied that I still heard faint moans, -and imagining that the unfortunate jeweller might not be -quite dead, I determined to go to his relief, by way of -atoning in some slight degree, not for the crime I had -committed, but for that which I had not endeavored to -prevent. For this purpose I applied all the strength I -possessed to force an entrance from the cramped spot in -which I lay to the adjoining room. The poorly fastened -boards which alone divided me from it yielded to my efforts, -and I found myself in the house. Hastily snatching up the -lighted candle, I hurried to the staircase about midway a -body was lying quite across the stairs. It was that of La -Carconte. The pistol I had heard had doubtless been fired at -her. The shot had frightfully lacerated her throat, leaving -two gaping wounds from which, as well as the mouth, the -blood was pouring in floods. She was stone dead. I strode -past her, and ascended to the sleeping chamber, which -presented an appearance of the wildest disorder. The -furniture had been knocked over in the deadly struggle that -had taken place there, and the sheets, to which the -unfortunate jeweller had doubtless clung, were dragged -across the room. The murdered man lay on the floor, his head -leaning against the wall, and about him was a pool of blood -which poured forth from three large wounds in his breast -there was a fourth gash, in which a long table knife was -plunged up to the handle. -"I stumbled over some object I stooped to examine it was -the second pistol, which had not gone off, probably from the -powder being wet. I approached the jeweller, who was not -quite dead, and at the sound of my footsteps and the -creaking of the floor, he opened his eyes, fixed them on me -with an anxious and inquiring gaze, moved his lips as though -trying to speak, then, overcome by the effort, fell back and -expired. This appalling sight almost bereft me of my senses, -and finding that I could no longer be of service to any one -in the house, my only desire was to fly. I rushed towards -the staircase, clutching my hair, and uttering a groan of -horror. Upon reaching the room below, I found five or six -customhouse officers, and two or three gendarmes all -heavily armed. They threw themselves upon me. I made no -resistance I was no longer master of my senses. When I -strove to speak, a few inarticulate sounds alone escaped my -lips. -"As I noticed the significant manner in which the whole -party pointed to my bloodstained garments, I involuntarily -surveyed myself, and then I discovered that the thick warm -drops that had so bedewed me as I lay beneath the staircase -must have been the blood of La Carconte. I pointed to the -spot where I had concealed myself. "What does he mean?' -asked a gendarme. One of the officers went to the place I -directed. "He means,' replied the man upon his return, "that -he got in that way' and he showed the hole I had made when -I broke through. -"Then I saw that they took me for the assassin. I recovered -force and energy enough to free myself from the hands of -those who held me, while I managed to stammer forth "I -did not do it Indeed, indeed I did not' A couple of -gendarmes held the muzzles of their carbines against my -breast. "Stir but a step,' said they, "and you are a dead -man.' "Why should you threaten me with death,' cried I, -"when I have already declared my innocence?' "Tush, -tush,' cried the men "keep your innocent stories to tell to -the judge at Nimes. Meanwhile, come along with us and the -best advice we can give you is to do so unresistingly.' -Alas, resistance was far from my thoughts. I was utterly -overpowered by surprise and terror and without a word I -suffered myself to be handcuffed and tied to a horse's tail, -and thus they took me to Nimes. -"I had been tracked by a customsofficer, who had lost sight -of me near the tavern feeling certain that I intended to -pass the night there, he had returned to summon his -comrades, who just arrived in time to hear the report of the -pistol, and to take me in the midst of such circumstantial -proofs of my guilt as rendered all hopes of proving my -innocence utterly futile. One only chance was left me, that -of beseeching the magistrate before whom I was taken to -cause every inquiry to be made for the Abbe Busoni, who had -stopped at the inn of the Pont du Gard on that morning. If -Caderousse had invented the story relative to the diamond, -and there existed no such person as the Abbe Busoni, then, -indeed, I was lost past redemption, or, at least, my life -hung upon the feeble chance of Caderousse himself being -apprehended and confessing the whole truth. Two months -passed away in hopeless expectation on my part, while I must -do the magistrate the justice to say that he used every -means to obtain information of the person I declared could -exculpate me if he would. Caderousse still evaded all -pursuit, and I had resigned myself to what seemed my -inevitable fate. My trial was to come on at the approaching -assizes when, on the th of September that is to say, -precisely three months and five days after the events which -had perilled my life the Abbe Busoni, whom I never -ventured to believe I should see, presented himself at the -prison doors, saying he understood one of the prisoners -wished to speak to him he added, that having learned at -Marseilles the particulars of my imprisonment, he hastened -to comply with my desire. You may easily imagine with what -eagerness I welcomed him, and how minutely I related the -whole of what I had seen and heard. I felt some degree of -nervousness as I entered upon the history of the diamond, -but, to my inexpressible astonishment, he confirmed it in -every particular, and to my equal surprise, he seemed to -place entire belief in all I said. And then it was that, won -by his mild charity, seeing that he was acquainted with all -the habits and customs of my own country, and considering -also that pardon for the only crime of which I was really -guilty might come with a double power from lips so -benevolent and kind, I besought him to receive my -confession, under the seal of which I recounted the Auteuil -affair in all its details, as well as every other -transaction of my life. That which I had done by the impulse -of my best feelings produced the same effect as though it -had been the result of calculation. My voluntary confession -of the assassination at Auteuil proved to him that I had not -committed that of which I stood accused. When he quitted me, -he bade me be of good courage, and to rely upon his doing -all in his power to convince my judges of my innocence. -"I had speedy proofs that the excellent abbe was engaged in -my behalf, for the rigors of my imprisonment were alleviated -by many trifling though acceptable indulgences, and I was -told that my trial was to be postponed to the assizes -following those now being held. In the interim it pleased -providence to cause the apprehension of Caderousse, who was -discovered in some distant country, and brought back to -France, where he made a full confession, refusing to make -the fact of his wife's having suggested and arranged the -murder any excuse for his own guilt. The wretched man was -sentenced to the galleys for life, and I was immediately set -at liberty." -"And then it was, I presume," said Monte Cristo "that you -came to me as the bearer of a letter from the Abbe Busoni?" -"It was, your excellency the benevolent abbe took an -evident interest in all that concerned me. -""Your mode of life as a smuggler,' said he to me one day, -"will be the ruin of you if you get out, don't take it up -again.' "But how,' inquired I, "am I to maintain myself -and my poor sister?' -""A person, whose confessor I am,' replied he, "and who -entertains a high regard for me, applied to me a short time -since to procure him a confidential servant. Would you like -such a post? If so, I will give you a letter of introduction -to him.' "Oh, father,' I exclaimed, "you are very good.' -""But you must swear solemnly that I shall never have reason -to repent my recommendation.' I extended my hand, and was -about to pledge myself by any promise he would dictate, but -he stopped me. "It is unnecessary for you to bind yourself -by any vow,' said he "I know and admire the Corsican nature -too well to fear you. Here, take this,' continued he, after -rapidly writing the few lines I brought to your excellency, -and upon receipt of which you deigned to receive me into -your service, and proudly I ask whether your excellency has -ever had cause to repent having done so?" -"No," replied the count "I take pleasure in saying that you -have served me faithfully, Bertuccio but you might have -shown more confidence in me." -"I, your excellency?" -"Yes you. How comes it, that having both a sister and an -adopted son, you have never spoken to me of either?" -"Alas, I have still to recount the most distressing period -of my life. Anxious as you may suppose I was to behold and -comfort my dear sister, I lost no time in hastening to -Corsica, but when I arrived at Rogliano I found a house of -mourning, the consequences of a scene so horrible that the -neighbors remember and speak of it to this day. Acting by my -advice, my poor sister had refused to comply with the -unreasonable demands of Benedetto, who was continually -tormenting her for money, as long as he believed there was a -sou left in her possession. One morning that he had demanded -money, threatening her with the severest consequences if she -did not supply him with what he desired, he disappeared and -remained away all day, leaving the kindhearted Assunta, who -loved him as if he were her own child, to weep over his -conduct and bewail his absence. Evening came, and still, -with all the patient solicitude of a mother, she watched for -his return. -"As the eleventh hour struck, he entered with a swaggering -air, attended by two of the most dissolute and reckless of -his boon companions. She stretched out her arms to him, but -they seized hold of her, and one of the three none other -than the accursed Benedetto exclaimed, "Put her to -torture and she'll soon tell us where her money is.' -"It unfortunately happened that our neighbor, Vasilio, was -at Bastia, leaving no person in his house but his wife no -human creature beside could hear or see anything that took -place within our dwelling. Two held poor Assunta, who, -unable to conceive that any harm was intended to her, smiled -in the face of those who were soon to become her -executioners. The third proceeded to barricade the doors and -windows, then returned, and the three united in stifling the -cries of terror incited by the sight of these preparations, -and then dragged Assunta feet foremost towards the brazier, -expecting to wring from her an avowal of where her supposed -treasure was secreted. In the struggle her clothes caught -fire, and they were obliged to let go their hold in order to -preserve themselves from sharing the same fate. Covered with -flames, Assunta rushed wildly to the door, but it was -fastened she flew to the windows, but they were also -secured then the neighbors heard frightful shrieks it was -Assunta calling for help. The cries died away in groans, and -next morning, as soon as Vasilio's wife could muster up -courage to venture abroad, she caused the door of our -dwelling to be opened by the public authorities, when -Assunta, although dreadfully burnt, was found still -breathing every drawer and closet in the house had been -forced open, and the money stolen. Benedetto never again -appeared at Rogliano, neither have I since that day either -seen or heard anything concerning him. -"It was subsequently to these dreadful events that I waited -on your excellency, to whom it would have been folly to have -mentioned Benedetto, since all trace of him seemed entirely -lost or of my sister, since she was dead." -"And in what light did you view the occurrence?" inquired -Monte Cristo. -"As a punishment for the crime I had committed," answered -Bertuccio. "Oh, those Villeforts are an accursed race" -"Truly they are," murmured the count in a lugubrious tone. -"And now," resumed Bertuccio, "your excellency may, perhaps, -be able to comprehend that this place, which I revisit for -the first time this garden, the actual scene of my crime -must have given rise to reflections of no very agreeable -nature, and produced that gloom and depression of spirits -which excited the notice of your excellency, who was pleased -to express a desire to know the cause. At this instant a -shudder passes over me as I reflect that possibly I am now -standing on the very grave in which lies M. de Villefort, by -whose hand the ground was dug to receive the corpse of his -child." -"Everything is possible," said Monte Cristo, rising from the -bench on which he had been sitting "even," he added in an -inaudible voice, "even that the procureur be not dead. The -Abbe Busoni did right to send you to me," he went on in his -ordinary tone, "and you have done well in relating to me the -whole of your history, as it will prevent my forming any -erroneous opinions concerning you in future. As for that -Benedetto, who so grossly belied his name, have you never -made any effort to trace out whither he has gone, or what -has become of him?" -"No far from wishing to learn whither he has betaken -himself, I should shun the possibility of meeting him as I -would a wild beast. Thank God, I have never heard his name -mentioned by any person, and I hope and believe he is dead." -"Do not think so, Bertuccio," replied the count "for the -wicked are not so easily disposed of, for God seems to have -them under his special watchcare to make of them -instruments of his vengeance." -"So be it," responded Bertuccio, "all I ask of heaven is -that I may never see him again. And now, your excellency," -he added, bowing his head, "you know everything you are -my judge on earth, as the Almighty is in heaven have you -for me no words of consolation?" -"My good friend, I can only repeat the words addressed to -you by the Abbe Busoni. Villefort merited punishment for -what he had done to you, and, perhaps, to others. Benedetto, -if still living, will become the instrument of divine -retribution in some way or other, and then be duly punished -in his turn. As far as you yourself are concerned, I see but -one point in which you are really guilty. Ask yourself, -wherefore, after rescuing the infant from its living grave, -you did not restore it to its mother? There was the crime, -Bertuccio that was where you became really culpable." -"True, excellency, that was the crime, the real crime, for -in that I acted like a coward. My first duty, directly I had -succeeded in recalling the babe to life, was to restore it -to its mother but, in order to do so, I must have made -close and careful inquiry, which would, in all probability, -have led to my own apprehension and I clung to life, partly -on my sister's account, and partly from that feeling of -pride inborn in our hearts of desiring to come off untouched -and victorious in the execution of our vengeance. Perhaps, -too, the natural and instinctive love of life made me wish -to avoid endangering my own. And then, again, I am not as -brave and courageous as was my poor brother." Bertuccio hid -his face in his hands as he uttered these words, while Monte -Cristo fixed on him a look of inscrutable meaning. After a -brief silence, rendered still more solemn by the time and -place, the count said, in a tone of melancholy wholly unlike -his usual manner, "In order to bring this conversation to a -fitting termination the last we shall ever hold upon this -subject, I will repeat to you some words I have heard from -the lips of the Abbe Busoni. For all evils there are two -remedies time and silence. And now leave me, Monsieur -Bertuccio, to walk alone here in the garden. The very -circumstances which inflict on you, as a principal in the -tragic scene enacted here, such painful emotions, are to me, -on the contrary, a source of something like contentment, and -serve but to enhance the value of this dwelling in my -estimation. The chief beauty of trees consists in the deep -shadow of their umbrageous boughs, while fancy pictures a -moving multitude of shapes and forms flitting and passing -beneath that shade. Here I have a garden laid out in such a -way as to afford the fullest scope for the imagination, and -furnished with thickly grown trees, beneath whose leafy -screen a visionary like myself may conjure up phantoms at -will. This to me, who expected but to find a blank enclosure -surrounded by a straight wall, is, I assure you, a most -agreeable surprise. I have no fear of ghosts, and I have -never heard it said that so much harm had been done by the -dead during six thousand years as is wrought by the living -in a single day. Retire within, Bertuccio, and tranquillize -your mind. Should your confessor be less indulgent to you in -your dying moments than you found the Abbe Busoni, send for -me, if I am still on earth, and I will soothe your ears with -words that shall effectually calm and soothe your parting -soul ere it goes forth to traverse the ocean called -eternity." -Bertuccio bowed respectfully, and turned away, sighing -heavily. Monte Cristo, left alone, took three or four steps -onwards, and murmured, "Here, beneath this planetree, must -have been where the infant's grave was dug. There is the -little door opening into the garden. At this corner is the -private staircase communicating with the sleeping apartment. -There will be no necessity for me to make a note of these -particulars, for there, before my eyes, beneath my feet, all -around me, I have the plan sketched with all the living -reality of truth." After making the tour of the garden a -second time, the count reentered his carriage, while -Bertuccio, who perceived the thoughtful expression of his -master's features, took his seat beside the driver without -uttering a word. The carriage proceeded rapidly towards -Paris. -That same evening, upon reaching his abode in the Champs -Elysees, the Count of Monte Cristo went over the whole -building with the air of one long acquainted with each nook -or corner. Nor, although preceding the party, did he once -mistake one door for another, or commit the smallest error -when choosing any particular corridor or staircase to -conduct him to a place or suite of rooms he desired to -visit. Ali was his principal attendant during this nocturnal -survey. Having given various orders to Bertuccio relative to -the improvements and alterations he desired to make in the -house, the Count, drawing out his watch, said to the -attentive Nubian, "It is halfpast eleven o'clock Haidee -will soon he here. Have the French attendants been summoned -to await her coming?" Ali extended his hands towards the -apartments destined for the fair Greek, which were so -effectually concealed by means of a tapestried entrance, -that it would have puzzled the most curious to have divined -their existence. Ali, having pointed to the apartments, held -up three fingers of his right hand, and then, placing it -beneath his head, shut his eyes, and feigned to sleep. "I -understand," said Monte Cristo, well acquainted with Ali's -pantomime "you mean to tell me that three female attendants -await their new mistress in her sleepingchamber." Ali, with -considerable animation, made a sign in the affirmative. -"Madame will be tired tonight," continued Monte Cristo, -"and will, no doubt, wish to rest. Desire the French -attendants not to weary her with questions, but merely to -pay their respectful duty and retire. You will also see that -the Greek servants hold no communication with those of this -country." He bowed. Just at that moment voices were heard -hailing the concierge. The gate opened, a carriage rolled -down the avenue, and stopped at the steps. The count hastily -descended, presented himself at the already opened carriage -door, and held out his hand to a young woman, completely -enveloped in a green silk mantle heavily embroidered with -gold. She raised the hand extended towards her to her lips, -and kissed it with a mixture of love and respect. Some few -words passed between them in that sonorous language in which -Homer makes his gods converse. The young woman spoke with an -expression of deep tenderness, while the count replied with -an air of gentle gravity. Preceded by Ali, who carried a -rosecolored flambeau in his hand, the newcomer, who was no -other than the lovely Greek who had been Monte Cristo's -companion in Italy, was conducted to her apartments, while -the count retired to the pavilion reserved for himself. In -another hour every light in the house was extinguished, and -it might have been thought that all its inmates slept. -Chapter -Unlimited Credit. -About two o'clock the following day a calash, drawn by a -pair of magnificent English horses, stopped at the door of -Monte Cristo and a person, dressed in a blue coat, with -buttons of a similar color, a white waistcoat, over which -was displayed a massive gold chain, brown trousers, and a -quantity of black hair descending so low over his eyebrows -as to leave it doubtful whether it were not artificial so -little did its jetty glossiness assimilate with the deep -wrinkles stamped on his features a person, in a word, -who, although evidently past fifty, desired to be taken for -not more than forty, bent forwards from the carriage door, -on the panels of which were emblazoned the armorial bearings -of a baron, and directed his groom to inquire at the -porter's lodge whether the Count of Monte Cristo resided -there, and if he were within. While waiting, the occupant of -the carriage surveyed the house, the garden as far as he -could distinguish it, and the livery of servants who passed -to and fro, with an attention so close as to be somewhat -impertinent. His glance was keen but showed cunning rather -than intelligence his lips were straight, and so thin that, -as they closed, they were drawn in over the teeth his -cheekbones were broad and projecting, a neverfailing proof -of audacity and craftiness while the flatness of his -forehead, and the enlargement of the back of his skull, -which rose much higher than his large and coarsely shaped -ears, combined to form a physiognomy anything but -prepossessing, save in the eyes of such as considered that -the owner of so splendid an equipage must needs be all that -was admirable and enviable, more especially when they gazed -on the enormous diamond that glittered in his shirt, and the -red ribbon that depended from his buttonhole. -The groom, in obedience to his orders, tapped at the window -of the porter's lodge, saying, "Pray, does not the Count of -Monte Cristo live here?" -"His excellency does reside here," replied the concierge -"but" added he, glancing an inquiring look at Ali. Ali -returned a sign in the negative. "But what?" asked the -groom. -"His excellency does not receive visitors today." -"Then here is my master's card, the Baron Danglars. You -will take it to the count, and say that, although in haste -to attend the Chamber, my master came out of his way to have -the honor of calling upon him." -"I never speak to his excellency," replied the concierge -"the valet de chambre will carry your message." The groom -returned to the carriage. "Well?" asked Danglars. The man, -somewhat crestfallen by the rebuke he had received, -repeated what the concierge had said. "Bless me," murmured -Baron Danglars, "this must surely be a prince instead of a -count by their styling him "excellency,' and only venturing -to address him by the medium of his valet de chambre. -However, it does not signify he has a letter of credit on -me, so I must see him when he requires his money." -Then, throwing himself back in his carriage, Danglars called -out to his coachman, in a voice that might be heard across -the road, "To the Chamber of Deputies." -Apprised in time of the visit paid him, Monte Cristo had, -from behind the blinds of his pavilion, as minutely observed -the baron, by means of an excellent lorgnette, as Danglars -himself had scrutinized the house, garden, and servants. -"That fellow has a decidedly bad countenance," said the -count in a tone of disgust, as he shut up his glass into its -ivory case. "How comes it that all do not retreat in -aversion at sight of that flat, receding, serpentlike -forehead, round, vultureshaped head, and sharphooked nose, -like the beak of a buzzard? Ali," cried he, striking at the -same time on the brazen gong. Ali appeared. "Summon -Bertuccio," said the count. Almost immediately Bertuccio -entered the apartment. "Did your excellency desire to see -me?" inquired he. "I did," replied the count. "You no doubt -observed the horses standing a few minutes since at the -door?" -"Certainly, your excellency. I noticed them for their -remarkable beauty." -"Then how comes it," said Monte Cristo with a frown, "that, -when I desired you to purchase for me the finest pair of -horses to be found in Paris, there is another pair, fully as -fine as mine, not in my stables?" At the look of -displeasure, added to the angry tone in which the count -spoke, Ali turned pale and held down his head. "It is not -your fault, my good Ali," said the count in the Arabic -language, and with a gentleness none would have thought him -capable of showing, either in voice or face "it is not -your fault. You do not understand the points of English -horses." The countenance of poor Ali recovered its serenity. -"Permit me to assure your excellency," said Bertuccio, "that -the horses you speak of were not to be sold when I purchased -yours." Monte Cristo shrugged his shoulders. "It seems, sir -steward," said he, "that you have yet to learn that all -things are to be sold to such as care to pay the price." -"His excellency is not, perhaps, aware that M. Danglars gave -, francs for his horses?" -"Very well. Then offer him double that sum a banker never -loses an opportunity of doubling his capital." -"Is your excellency really in earnest?" inquired the -steward. Monte Cristo regarded the person who durst presume -to doubt his words with the look of one equally surprised -and displeased. "I have to pay a visit this evening," -replied he. "I desire that these horses, with completely new -harness, may be at the door with my carriage." Bertuccio -bowed, and was about to retire but when he reached the -door, he paused, and then said, "At what o'clock does your -excellency wish the carriage and horses to be ready?" -"At five o'clock," replied the count. -"I beg your excellency's pardon," interposed the steward in -a deprecating manner, "for venturing to observe that it is -already two o'clock." -"I am perfectly aware of that fact," answered Monte Cristo -calmly. Then, turning towards Ali, he said, "Let all the -horses in my stables be led before the windows of your young -lady, that she may select those she prefers for her -carriage. Request her also to oblige me by saying whether it -is her pleasure to dine with me if so, let dinner be served -in her apartments. Now, leave me, and desire my valet de -chambre to come hither." Scarcely had Ali disappeared when -the valet entered the chamber. "Monsieur Baptistin," said -the count, "you have been in my service one year, the time I -generally give myself to judge of the merits or demerits of -those about me. You suit me very well." Baptistin bowed low. -"It only remains for me to know whether I also suit you?" -"Oh, your excellency" exclaimed Baptistin eagerly. -"Listen, if you please, till I have finished speaking," -replied Monte Cristo. "You receive , francs per annum -for your services here more than many a brave subaltern, -who continually risks his life for his country, obtains. You -live in a manner far superior to many clerks who work ten -times harder than you do for their money. Then, though -yourself a servant, you have other servants to wait upon -you, take care of your clothes, and see that your linen is -duly prepared for you. Again, you make a profit upon each -article you purchase for my toilet, amounting in the course -of a year to a sum equalling your wages." -"Nay, indeed, your excellency." -"I am not condemning you for this, Monsieur Baptistin but -let your profits end here. It would be long indeed ere you -would find so lucrative a post as that you have now the good -fortune to fill. I neither illuse nor illtreat my servants -by word or action. An error I readily forgive, but wilful -negligence or forgetfulness, never. My commands are -ordinarily short, clear, and precise and I would rather be -obliged to repeat my words twice, or even three times, than -they should be misunderstood. I am rich enough to know -whatever I desire to know, and I can promise you I am not -wanting in curiosity. If, then, I should learn that you had -taken upon yourself to speak of me to any one favorably or -unfavorably, to comment on my actions, or watch my conduct, -that very instant you would quit my service. You may now -retire. I never caution my servants a second time -remember that." Baptistin bowed, and was proceeding towards -the door. "I forgot to mention to you," said the count, -"that I lay yearly aside a certain sum for each servant in -my establishment those whom I am compelled to dismiss lose -as a matter of course all participation in this money, -while their portion goes to the fund accumulating for those -domestics who remain with me, and among whom it will be -divided at my death. You have been in my service a year, -your fund has already begun to accumulate let it continue -to do so." -This address, delivered in the presence of Ali, who, not -understanding one word of the language in which it was -spoken, stood wholly unmoved, produced an effect on M. -Baptistin only to be conceived by such as have occasion to -study the character and disposition of French domestics. "I -assure your excellency," said he, "that at least it shall be -my study to merit your approbation in all things, and I will -take M. Ali as my model." -"By no means," replied the count in the most frigid tones -"Ali has many faults mixed with most excellent qualities. He -cannot possibly serve you as a pattern for your conduct, not -being, as you are, a paid servant, but a mere slave a -dog, who, should he fail in his duty towards me, I should -not discharge from my service, but kill." Baptistin opened -his eyes with astonishment. -"You seem incredulous," said Monte Cristo, who repeated to -Ali in the Arabic language what he had just been saying to -Baptistin in French. The Nubian smiled assentingly to his -master's words, then, kneeling on one knee, respectfully -kissed the hand of the count. This corroboration of the -lesson he had just received put the finishing stroke to the -wonder and stupefaction of M. Baptistin. The count then -motioned the valet de chambre to retire, and to Ali to -follow to his study, where they conversed long and earnestly -together. As the hand of the clock pointed to five the count -struck thrice upon his gong. When Ali was wanted one stroke -was given, two summoned Baptistin, and three Bertuccio. The -steward entered. "My horses," said Monte Cristo. -"They are at the door harnessed to the carriage as your -excellency desired. Does your excellency wish me to -accompany him?" -"No, the coachman, Ali, and Baptistin will go." The count -descended to the door of his mansion, and beheld his -carriage drawn by the very pair of horses he had so much -admired in the morning as the property of Danglars. As he -passed them he said "They are extremely handsome -certainly, and you have done well to purchase them, although -you were somewhat remiss not to have procured them sooner." -"Indeed, your excellency, I had very considerable difficulty -in obtaining them, and, as it is, they have cost an enormous -price." -"Does the sum you gave for them make the animals less -beautiful," inquired the count, shrugging his shoulders. -"Nay, if your excellency is satisfied, it is all that I -could wish. Whither does your excellency desire to be -driven?" -"To the residence of Baron Danglars, Rue de la Chaussee -d'Antin." This conversation had passed as they stood upon -the terrace, from which a flight of stone steps led to the -carriagedrive. As Bertuccio, with a respectful bow, was -moving away, the count called him back. "I have another -commission for you, M. Bertuccio," said he "I am desirous -of having an estate by the seaside in Normandy for -instance, between Havre and Boulogne. You see I give you a -wide range. It will be absolutely necessary that the place -you may select have a small harbor, creek, or bay, into -which my corvette can enter and remain at anchor. She draws -only fifteen feet. She must be kept in constant readiness to -sail immediately I think proper to give the signal. Make the -requisite inquiries for a place of this description, and -when you have met with an eligible spot, visit it, and if it -possess the advantages desired, purchase it at once in your -own name. The corvette must now, I think, be on her way to -Fecamp, must she not?" -"Certainly, your excellency I saw her put to sea the same -evening we quitted Marseilles." -"And the yacht." -"Was ordered to remain at Martigues." -"'Tis well. I wish you to write from time to time to the -captains in charge of the two vessels so as to keep them on -the alert." -"And the steamboat?" -"She is at Chalons?" -"Yes." -"The same orders for her as for the two sailing vessels." -"Very good." -"When you have purchased the estate I desire, I want -constant relays of horses at ten leagues apart along the -northern and southern road." -"Your excellency may depend upon me." The Count made a -gesture of satisfaction, descended the terrace steps, and -sprang into his carriage, which was whirled along swiftly to -the banker's house. Danglars was engaged at that moment, -presiding over a railroad committee. But the meeting was -nearly concluded when the name of his visitor was announced. -As the count's title sounded on his ear he rose, and -addressing his colleagues, who were members of one or the -other Chamber, he said, "Gentlemen, pardon me for leaving -you so abruptly but a most ridiculous circumstance has -occurred, which is this, Thomson French, the Roman -bankers, have sent to me a certain person calling himself -the Count of Monte Cristo, and have given him an unlimited -credit with me. I confess this is the drollest thing I have -ever met with in the course of my extensive foreign -transactions, and you may readily suppose it has greatly -roused my curiosity. I took the trouble this morning to call -on the pretended count if he were a real count he -wouldn't be so rich. But, would you believe it, "He was not -receiving.' So the master of Monte Cristo gives himself airs -befitting a great millionaire or a capricious beauty. I made -inquiries, and found that the house in the Champs Elysees is -his own property, and certainly it was very decently kept -up. But," pursued Danglars with one of his sinister smiles, -"an order for unlimited credit calls for something like -caution on the part of the banker to whom that order is -given. I am very anxious to see this man. I suspect a hoax -is intended, but the instigators of it little knew whom they -had to deal with. "They laugh best who laugh last'" -Having delivered himself of this pompous address, uttered -with a degree of energy that left the baron almost out of -breath, he bowed to the assembled party and withdrew to his -drawingroom, whose sumptuous furnishings of white and gold -had caused a great sensation in the Chaussee d'Antin. It was -to this apartment he had desired his guest to be shown, with -the purpose of overwhelming him at the sight of so much -luxury. He found the count standing before some copies of -Albano and Fattore that had been passed off to the banker as -originals but which, mere copies as they were, seemed to -feel their degradation in being brought into juxtaposition -with the gaudy colors that covered the ceiling. The count -turned round as he heard the entrance of Danglars into the -room. With a slight inclination of the head, Danglars signed -to the count to be seated, pointing significantly to a -gilded armchair, covered with white satin embroidered with -gold. The count sat down. "I have the honor, I presume, of -addressing M. de Monte Cristo." -The count bowed. "And I of speaking to Baron Danglars, -chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and member of the Chamber -of Deputies?" -Monte Cristo repeated all the titles he had read on the -baron's card. -Danglars felt the irony and compressed his lips. "You will, -I trust, excuse me, monsieur, for not calling you by your -title when I first addressed you," he said, "but you are -aware that we are living under a popular form of government, -and that I am myself a representative of the liberties of -the people." -"So much so," replied Monte Cristo, "that while you call -yourself baron you are not willing to call anybody else -count." -"Upon my word, monsieur," said Danglars with affected -carelessness, "I attach no sort of value to such empty -distinctions but the fact is, I was made baron, and also -chevalier of the Legion of Honor, in return for services -rendered, but" -"But you have discarded your titles after the example set -you by Messrs. de Montmorency and Lafayette? That was a -noble example to follow, monsieur." -"Why," replied Danglars, "not entirely so with the -servants, you understand." -"I see to your domestics you are "my lord,' the journalists -style you "monsieur,' while your constituents call you -"citizen.' These are distinctions very suitable under a -constitutional government. I understand perfectly." Again -Danglars bit his lips he saw that he was no match for Monte -Cristo in an argument of this sort, and he therefore -hastened to turn to subjects more congenial. -"Permit me to inform you, Count," said he, bowing, "that I -have received a letter of advice from Thomson French, of -Rome." -"I am glad to hear it, baron, for I must claim the -privilege of addressing you after the manner of your -servants. I have acquired the bad habit of calling persons -by their titles from living in a country where barons are -still barons by right of birth. But as regards the letter of -advice, I am charmed to find that it has reached you that -will spare me the troublesome and disagreeable task of -coming to you for money myself. You have received a regular -letter of advice?" -"Yes," said Danglars, "but I confess I didn't quite -comprehend its meaning." -"Indeed?" -"And for that reason I did myself the honor of calling upon -you, in order to beg for an explanation." -"Go on, monsieur. Here I am, ready to give you any -explanation you desire." -"Why," said Danglers, "in the letter I believe I have it -about me" here he felt in his breastpocket "yes, here -it is. Well, this letter gives the Count of Monte Cristo -unlimited credit on our house." -"Well, baron, what is there difficult to understand about -that?" -"Merely the term unlimited nothing else, certainly." -"Is not that word known in France? The people who wrote are -AngloGermans, you know." -"Oh, as for the composition of the letter, there is nothing -to be said but as regards the competency of the document, I -certainly have doubts." -"Is it possible?" asked the count, assuming all air and tone -of the utmost simplicity and candor. "Is it possible that -Thomson French are not looked upon as safe and solvent -bankers? Pray tell me what you think, baron, for I feel -uneasy, I can assure you, having some considerable property -in their hands." -"Thomson French are perfectly solvent," replied Danglars, -with an almost mocking smile "but the word unlimited, in -financial affairs, is so extremely vague." -"Is, in fact, unlimited," said Monte Cristo. -"Precisely what I was about to say," cried Danglars. "Now -what is vague is doubtful and it was a wise man who said, -"when in doubt, keep out.'" -"Meaning to say," rejoined Monte Cristo, "that however -Thomson French may be inclined to commit acts of -imprudence and folly, the Baron Danglars is not disposed to -follow their example." -"Not at all." -"Plainly enough. Messrs. Thomson French set no bounds to -their engagements while those of M. Danglars have their -limits he is a wise man, according to his own showing." -"Monsieur," replied the banker, drawing himself up with a -haughty air, "the extent of my resources has never yet been -questioned." -"It seems, then, reserved for me," said Monte Cristo coldly, -"to be the first to do so." -"By what right, sir?" -"By right of the objections you have raised, and the -explanations you have demanded, which certainly must have -some motive." -Once more Danglars bit his lips. It was the second time he -had been worsted, and this time on his own ground. His -forced politeness sat awkwardly upon him, and approached -almost to impertinence. Monte Cristo on the contrary, -preserved a graceful suavity of demeanor, aided by a certain -degree of simplicity he could assume at pleasure, and thus -possessed the advantage. -"Well, sir," resumed Danglars, after a brief silence, "I -will endeavor to make myself understood, by requesting you -to inform me for what sum you propose to draw upon me?" -"Why, truly," replied Monte Cristo, determined not to lose -an inch of the ground he had gained, "my reason for desiring -an "unlimited' credit was precisely because I did not know -how much money I might need." -The banker thought the time had come for him to take the -upper hand. So throwing himself back in his armchair, he -said, with an arrogant and purseproud air, "Let me beg -of you not to hesitate in naming your wishes you will then -be convinced that the resources of the house of Danglars, -however limited, are still equal to meeting the largest -demands and were you even to require a million" -"I beg your pardon," interposed Monte Cristo. -"I said a million," replied Danglars, with the confidence of -ignorance. -"But could I do with a million?" retorted the count. "My -dear sir, if a trifle like that could suffice me, I should -never have given myself the trouble of opening an account. A -million? Excuse my smiling when you speak of a sum I am in -the habit of carrying in my pocketbook or dressingcase." -And with these words Monte Cristo took from his pocket a -small case containing his visitingcards, and drew forth two -orders on the treasury for , francs each, payable at -sight to the bearer. A man like Danglars was wholly -inaccessible to any gentler method of correction. The effect -of the present revelation was stunning he trembled and was -on the verge of apoplexy. The pupils of his eyes, as he -gazed at Monte Cristo dilated horribly. -"Come, come," said Monte Cristo, "confess honestly that you -have not perfect confidence in Thomson French. I -understand, and foreseeing that such might be the case, I -took, in spite of my ignorance of affairs, certain -precautions. See, here are two similar letters to that you -have yourself received one from the house of Arstein -Eskeles of Vienna, to Baron Rothschild, the other drawn by -Baring of London, upon M. Laffitte. Now, sir, you have but -to say the word, and I will spare you all uneasiness by -presenting my letter of credit to one or other of these two -firms." The blow had struck home, and Danglars was entirely -vanquished with a trembling hand he took the two letters -from the count, who held them carelessly between finger and -thumb, and proceeded to scrutinize the signatures, with a -minuteness that the count might have regarded as insulting, -had it not suited his present purpose to mislead the banker. -"Oh, sir," said Danglars, after he had convinced himself of -the authenticity of the documents he held, and rising as if -to salute the power of gold personified in the man before -him, "three letters of unlimited credit I can be no -longer mistrustful, but you must pardon me, my dear count, -for confessing to some degree of astonishment." -"Nay," answered Monte Cristo, with the most gentlemanly air, -"'tis not for such trifling sums as these that your banking -house is to be incommoded. Then, you can let me have some -money, can you not?" -"Whatever you say, my dear count I am at your orders." -"Why," replied Monte Cristo, "since we mutually understand -each other for such I presume is the case?" Danglars -bowed assentingly. "You are quite sure that not a lurking -doubt or suspicion lingers in your mind?" -"Oh, my dear count," exclaimed Danglars, "I never for an -instant entertained such a feeling towards you." -"No, you merely wished to be convinced, nothing more but -now that we have come to so clear an understanding, and that -all distrust and suspicion are laid at rest, we may as well -fix a sum as the probable expenditure of the first year, -suppose we say six millions to" -"Six millions" gasped Danglars "so be it." -"Then, if I should require more," continued Monte Cristo in -a careless manner, "why, of course, I should draw upon you -but my present intention is not to remain in France more -than a year, and during that period I scarcely think I shall -exceed the sum I mentioned. However, we shall see. Be kind -enough, then, to send me , francs tomorrow. I shall -be at home till midday, or if not, I will leave a receipt -with my steward." -"The money you desire shall be at your house by ten o'clock -tomorrow morning, my dear count," replied Danglars. "How -would you like to have it? in gold, silver, or notes?" -"Half in gold, and the other half in banknotes, if you -please," said the count, rising from his seat. -"I must confess to you, count," said Danglars, "that I have -hitherto imagined myself acquainted with the degree of all -the great fortunes of Europe, and still wealth such as yours -has been wholly unknown to me. May I presume to ask whether -you have long possessed it?" -"It has been in the family a very long while," returned -Monte Cristo, "a sort of treasure expressly forbidden to be -touched for a certain period of years, during which the -accumulated interest has doubled the capital. The period -appointed by the testator for the disposal of these riches -occurred only a short time ago, and they have only been -employed by me within the last few years. Your ignorance on -the subject, therefore, is easily accounted for. However, -you will be better informed as to me and my possessions ere -long." And the count, while pronouncing these latter words, -accompanied them with one of those ghastly smiles that used -to strike terror into poor Franz d'Epinay. -"With your tastes, and means of gratifying them," continued -Danglars, "you will exhibit a splendor that must effectually -put us poor miserable millionaires quite in the shade. If I -mistake not you are an admirer of paintings, at least I -judged so from the attention you appeared to be bestowing on -mine when I entered the room. If you will permit me, I shall -be happy to show you my picture gallery, composed entirely -of works by the ancient masters warranted as such. Not a -modern picture among them. I cannot endure the modern school -of painting." -"You are perfectly right in objecting to them, for this one -great fault that they have not yet had time to become -old." -"Or will you allow me to show you several fine statues by -Thorwaldsen, Bartoloni, and Canova? all foreign artists, -for, as you may perceive, I think but very indifferently of -our French sculptors." -"You have a right to be unjust to them, monsieur they are -your compatriots." -"But all this may come later, when we shall be better known -to each other. For the present, I will confine myself if -perfectly agreeable to you to introducing you to the -Baroness Danglars excuse my impatience, my dear count, -but a client like you is almost like a member of the -family." Monte Cristo bowed, in sign that he accepted the -proffered honor Danglars rang and was answered by a servant -in a showy livery. "Is the baroness at home?" inquired -Danglars. -"Yes, my lord," answered the man. -"And alone?" -"No, my lord, madame has visitors." -"Have you any objection to meet any persons who may be with -madame, or do you desire to preserve a strict incognito?" -"No, indeed," replied Monte Cristo with a smile, "I do not -arrogate to myself the right of so doing." -"And who is with madame? M. Debray?" inquired Danglars, -with an air of indulgence and goodnature that made Monte -Cristo smile, acquainted as he was with the secrets of the -banker's domestic life. -"Yes, my lord," replied the servant, "M. Debray is with -madame." Danglars nodded his head then, turning to Monte -Cristo, said, "M. Lucien Debray is an old friend of ours, -and private secretary to the Minister of the Interior. As -for my wife, I must tell you, she lowered herself by -marrying me, for she belongs to one of the most ancient -families in France. Her maiden name was De Servieres, and -her first husband was Colonel the Marquis of Nargonne." -"I have not the honor of knowing Madame Danglars but I have -already met M. Lucien Debray." -"Ah, indeed?" said Danglars "and where was that?" -"At the house of M. de Morcerf." -"Ah, ha, you are acquainted with the young viscount, are -you?" -"We were together a good deal during the Carnival at Rome." -"True, true," cried Danglars. "Let me see have I not heard -talk of some strange adventure with bandits or thieves hid -in ruins, and of his having had a miraculous escape? I -forget how, but I know he used to amuse my wife and daughter -by telling them about it after his return from Italy." -"Her ladyship is waiting to receive you, gentlemen," said -the servant, who had gone to inquire the pleasure of his -mistress. "With your permission," said Danglars, bowing, "I -will precede you, to show you the way." -"By all means," replied Monte Cristo "I follow you." -Chapter -The Dappled Grays. -The baron, followed by the count, traversed a long series of -apartments, in which the prevailing characteristics were -heavy magnificence and the gaudiness of ostentatious wealth, -until he reached the boudoir of Madame Danglars a small -octagonalshaped room, hung with pink satin, covered with -white Indian muslin. The chairs were of ancient workmanship -and materials over the doors were painted sketches of -shepherds and shepherdesses, after the style and manner of -Boucher and at each side pretty medallions in crayons, -harmonizing well with the furnishings of this charming -apartment, the only one throughout the great mansion in -which any distinctive taste prevailed. The truth was, it had -been entirely overlooked in the plan arranged and followed -out by M. Danglars and his architect, who had been selected -to aid the baron in the great work of improvement solely -because he was the most fashionable and celebrated decorator -of the day. The decorations of the boudoir had then been -left entirely to Madame Danglars and Lucien Debray. M. -Danglars, however, while possessing a great admiration for -the antique, as it was understood during the time of the -Directory, entertained the most sovereign contempt for the -simple elegance of his wife's favorite sittingroom, where, -by the way, he was never permitted to intrude, unless, -indeed, he excused his own appearance by ushering in some -more agreeable visitor than himself and even then he had -rather the air and manner of a person who was himself -introduced, than that of being the presenter of another, his -reception being cordial or frigid, in proportion as the -person who accompanied him chanced to please or displease -the baroness. -Madame Danglars who, although past the first bloom of -youth, was still strikingly handsome was now seated at the -piano, a most elaborate piece of cabinet and inlaid work, -while Lucien Debray, standing before a small worktable, was -turning over the pages of an album. Lucien had found time, -preparatory to the count's arrival, to relate many -particulars respecting him to Madame Danglars. It will be -remembered that Monte Cristo had made a lively impression on -the minds of all the party assembled at the breakfast given -by Albert de Morcerf and although Debray was not in the -habit of yielding to such feelings, he had never been able -to shake off the powerful influence excited in his mind by -the impressive look and manner of the count, consequently -the description given by Lucien to the baroness bore the -highlycolored tinge of his own heated imagination. Already -excited by the wonderful stories related of the count by De -Morcerf, it is no wonder that Madame Danglars eagerly -listened to, and fully credited, all the additional -circumstances detailed by Debray. This posing at the piano -and over the album was only a little ruse adopted by way of -precaution. A most gracious welcome and unusual smile were -bestowed on M. Danglars the count, in return for his -gentlemanly bow, received a formal though graceful courtesy, -while Lucien exchanged with the count a sort of distant -recognition, and with Danglars a free and easy nod. -"Baroness," said Danglars, "give me leave to present to you -the Count of Monte Cristo, who has been most warmly -recommended to me by my correspondents at Rome. I need but -mention one fact to make all the ladies in Paris court his -notice, and that is, that he has come to take up his abode -in Paris for a year, during which brief period he proposes -to spend six millions of money. That means balls, dinners, -and lawn parties without end, in all of which I trust the -count will remember us, as he may depend upon it we shall -him, in our own humble entertainments." In spite of the -gross flattery and coarseness of this address, Madame -Danglars could not forbear gazing with considerable interest -on a man capable of expending six millions in twelve months, -and who had selected Paris for the scene of his princely -extravagance. "And when did you arrive here?" inquired she. -"Yesterday morning, madame." -"Coming, as usual, I presume, from the extreme end of the -globe? Pardon me at least, such I have heard is your -custom." -"Nay, madame. This time I have merely come from Cadiz." -"You have selected a most unfavorable moment for your first -visit. Paris is a horrible place in summer. Balls, parties, -and fetes are over the Italian opera is in London the -French opera everywhere except in Paris. As for the Theatre -Francais, you know, of course, that it is nowhere. The only -amusements left us are the indifferent races at the Champ de -Mars and Satory. Do you propose entering any horses at -either of these races, count?" -"I shall do whatever they do at Paris, madame, if I have the -good fortune to find some one who will initiate me into the -prevalent ideas of amusement." -"Are you fond of horses, count?" -"I have passed a considerable part of my life in the East, -madame, and you are doubtless aware that the Orientals value -only two things the fine breeding of their horses and the -beauty of their women." -"Nay, count," said the baroness, "it would have been -somewhat more gallant to have placed the ladies first." -"You see, madame, how rightly I spoke when I said I required -a preceptor to guide me in all my sayings and doings here." -At this instant the favorite attendant of Madame Danglars -entered the boudoir approaching her mistress, she spoke -some words in an undertone. Madame Danglars turned very -pale, then exclaimed, "I cannot believe it the thing is -impossible." -"I assure you, madame," replied the woman, "it is as I have -said." Turning impatiently towards her husband, Madame -Danglars demanded, "Is this true?" -"Is what true, madame?" inquired Danglars, visibly agitated. -"What my maid tells me." -"But what does she tell you?" -"That when my coachman was about to harness the horses to my -carriage, he discovered that they had been removed from the -stables without his knowledge. I desire to know what is the -meaning of this?" -"Be kind enough, madame, to listen to me," said Danglars. -"Oh, yes I will listen, monsieur, for I am most curious to -hear what explanation you will give. These two gentlemen -shall decide between us but, first, I will state the case -to them. Gentlemen," continued the baroness, "among the ten -horses in the stables of Baron Danglars, are two that belong -exclusively to me a pair of the handsomest and most -spirited creatures to be found in Paris. But to you, at -least, M. Debray, I need not give a further description, -because to you my beautiful pair of dappled grays were well -known. Well, I had promised Madame de Villefort the loan of -my carriage to drive tomorrow to the Bois but when my -coachman goes to fetch the grays from the stables they are -gone positively gone. No doubt M. Danglars has sacrificed -them to the selfish consideration of gaining some thousands -of paltry francs. Oh, what a detestable crew they are, these -mercenary speculators" -"Madame," replied Danglars, "the horses were not -sufficiently quiet for you they were scarcely four years -old, and they made me extremely uneasy on your account." -"Nonsense," retorted the baroness "you could not have -entertained any alarm on the subject, because you are -perfectly well aware that I have had for a month in my -service the very best coachman in Paris. But, perhaps, you -have disposed of the coachman as well as the horses?" -"My dear love, pray do not say any more about them, and I -promise you another pair exactly like them in appearance, -only more quiet and steady." The baroness shrugged her -shoulders with an air of ineffable contempt, while her -husband, affecting not to observe this unconjugal gesture, -turned towards Monte Cristo and said, "Upon my word, -count, I am quite sorry not to have met you sooner. You are -setting up an establishment, of course?" -"Why, yes," replied the count. -"I should have liked to have made you the offer of these -horses. I have almost given them away, as it is but, as I -before said, I was anxious to get rid of them upon any -terms. They were only fit for a young man." -"I am much obliged by your kind intentions towards me," said -Monte Cristo "but this morning I purchased a very excellent -pair of carriagehorses, and I do not think they were dear. -There they are. Come, M. Debray, you are a connoisseur, I -believe, let me have your opinion upon them." As Debray -walked towards the window, Danglars approached his wife. "I -could not tell you before others," said he in a low tone, -"the reason of my parting with the horses but a most -enormous price was offered me this morning for them. Some -madman or fool, bent upon ruining himself as fast as he can, -actually sent his steward to me to purchase them at any -cost and the fact is, I have gained , francs by the -sale of them. Come, don't look so angry, and you shall have -, francs of the money to do what you like with, and -Eugenie shall have ,. There, what do you think now of -the affair? Wasn't I right to part with the horses?" Madame -Danglars surveyed her husband with a look of withering -contempt. -"Great heavens?" suddenly exclaimed Debray. -"What is it?" asked the baroness. -"I cannot be mistaken there are your horses The very -animals we were speaking of, harnessed to the count's -carriage" -"My dappled grays?" demanded the baroness, springing to the -window. "'Tis indeed they" said she. Danglars looked -absolutely stupefied. "How very singular," cried Monte -Cristo with wellfeigned astonishment. -"I cannot believe it," murmured the banker. Madame Danglars -whispered a few words in the ear of Debray, who approached -Monte Cristo, saying, "The baroness wishes to know what you -paid her husband for the horses." -"I scarcely know," replied the count "it was a little -surprise prepared for me by my steward, and cost me well, -somewhere about , francs." Debray conveyed the count's -reply to the baroness. Poor Danglars looked so crestfallen -and discomfited that Monte Cristo assumed a pitying air -towards him. "See," said the count, "how very ungrateful -women are. Your kind attention, in providing for the safety -of the baroness by disposing of the horses, does not seem to -have made the least impression on her. But so it is a woman -will often, from mere wilfulness, prefer that which is -dangerous to that which is safe. Therefore, in my opinion, -my dear baron, the best and easiest way is to leave them to -their fancies, and allow them to act as they please, and -then, if any mischief follows, why, at least, they have no -one to blame but themselves." Danglars made no reply he was -occupied in anticipations of the coming scene between -himself and the baroness, whose frowning brow, like that of -Olympic Jove, predicted a storm. Debray, who perceived the -gathering clouds, and felt no desire to witness the -explosion of Madame Danglars' rage, suddenly recollected an -appointment, which compelled him to take his leave while -Monte Cristo, unwilling by prolonging his stay to destroy -the advantages he hoped to obtain, made a farewell bow and -departed, leaving Danglars to endure the angry reproaches of -his wife. -"Excellent," murmured Monte Cristo to himself, as he came -away. "All has gone according to my wishes. The domestic -peace of this family is henceforth in my hands. Now, then, -to play another masterstroke, by which I shall gain the -heart of both husband and wife delightful Still," added -he, "amid all this, I have not yet been presented to -Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars, whose acquaintance I should -have been glad to make. But," he went on with his peculiar -smile, "I am here in Paris, and have plenty of time before -me by and by will do for that." With these reflections he -entered his carriage and returned home. Two hours -afterwards, Madame Danglars received a most flattering -epistle from the count, in which he entreated her to receive -back her favorite "dappled grays," protesting that he could -not endure the idea of making his entry into the Parisian -world of fashion with the knowledge that his splendid -equipage had been obtained at the price of a lovely woman's -regrets. The horses were sent back wearing the same harness -she had seen on them in the morning only, by the count's -orders, in the centre of each rosette that adorned either -side of their heads, had been fastened a large diamond. -To Danglars Monte Cristo also wrote, requesting him to -excuse the whimsical gift of a capricious millionaire, and -to beg the baroness to pardon the Eastern fashion adopted in -the return of the horses. -During the evening, Monte Cristo quitted Paris for Auteuil, -accompanied by Ali. The following day, about three o'clock, -a single blow struck on the gong summoned Ali to the -presence of the count. "Ali," observed his master, as the -Nubian entered the chamber, "you have frequently explained -to me how more than commonly skilful you are in throwing the -lasso, have you not?" Ali drew himself up proudly, and then -returned a sign in the affirmative. "I thought I did not -mistake. With your lasso you could stop an ox?" Again Ali -repeated his affirmative gesture. "Or a tiger?" Ali bowed -his head in token of assent. "A lion even?" Ali sprung -forwards, imitating the action of one throwing the lasso, -then of a strangled lion. -"I understand," said Monte Cristo "you wish to tell me you -have hunted the lion?" Ali smiled with triumphant pride as -he signified that he had indeed both chased and captured -many lions. "But do you believe you could arrest the -progress of two horses rushing forwards with ungovernable -fury?" The Nubian smiled. "It is well," said Monte Cristo. -"Then listen to me. Ere long a carriage will dash past here, -drawn by the pair of dappled gray horses you saw me with -yesterday now, at the risk of your own life, you must -manage to stop those horses before my door." -Ali descended to the street, and marked a straight line on -the pavement immediately at the entrance of the house, and -then pointed out the line he had traced to the count, who -was watching him. The count patted him gently on the -shoulder, his usual mode of praising Ali, who, pleased and -gratified with the commission assigned him, walked calmly -towards a projecting stone forming the angle of the street -and house, and, seating himself thereon, began to smoke his -chibouque, while Monte Cristo reentered his dwelling, -perfectly assured of the success of his plan. Still, as five -o'clock approached, and the carriage was momentarily -expected by the count, the indication of more than common -impatience and uneasiness might be observed in his manner. -He stationed himself in a room commanding a view of the -street, pacing the chamber with restless steps, stopping -merely to listen from time to time for the sound of -approaching wheels, then to cast an anxious glance on Ali -but the regularity with which the Nubian puffed forth the -smoke of his chibouque proved that he at least was wholly -absorbed in the enjoyment of his favorite occupation. -Suddenly a distant sound of rapidly advancing wheels was -heard, and almost immediately a carriage appeared, drawn by -a pair of wild, ungovernable horses, while the terrified -coachman strove in vain to restrain their furious speed. -In the vehicle was a young woman and a child of about seven -or eight clasped in each other's arms. Terror seemed to have -deprived them even of the power of uttering a cry. The -carriage creaked and rattled as it flew over the rough -stones, and the slightest obstacle under the wheels would -have caused disaster but it kept on in the middle of the -road, and those who saw it pass uttered cries of terror. -Ali suddenly cast aside his chibouque, drew the lasso from -his pocket, threw it so skilfully as to catch the forelegs -of the near horse in its triple fold, and suffered himself -to be dragged on for a few steps by the violence of the -shock, then the animal fell over on the pole, which snapped, -and therefore prevented the other horse from pursuing its -way. Gladly availing himself of this opportunity, the -coachman leaped from his box but Ali had promptly seized -the nostrils of the second horse, and held them in his iron -grasp, till the beast, snorting with pain, sunk beside his -companion. All this was achieved in much less time than is -occupied in the recital. The brief space had, however, been -sufficient for a man, followed by a number of servants, to -rush from the house before which the accident had occurred, -and, as the coachman opened the door of the carriage, to -take from it a lady who was convulsively grasping the -cushions with one hand, while with the other she pressed to -her bosom the young boy, who had lost consciousness. -Monte Cristo carried them both to the salon, and deposited -them on a sofa. "Compose yourself, madame," said he "all -danger is over." The woman looked up at these words, and, -with a glance far more expressive than any entreaties could -have been, pointed to her child, who still continued -insensible. "I understand the nature of your alarms, -madame," said the count, carefully examining the child, "but -I assure you there is not the slightest occasion for -uneasiness your little charge has not received the least -injury his insensibility is merely the effects of terror, -and will soon pass." -"Are you quite sure you do not say so to tranquillize my -fears? See how deadly pale he is My child, my darling -Edward speak to your mother open your dear eyes and look -on me once again Oh, sir, in pity send for a physician my -whole fortune shall not be thought too much for the recovery -of my boy." -With a calm smile and a gentle wave of the hand, Monte -Cristo signed to the distracted mother to lay aside her -apprehensions then, opening a casket that stood near, he -drew forth a phial of Bohemian glass incrusted with gold, -containing a liquid of the color of blood, of which he let -fall a single drop on the child's lips. Scarcely had it -reached them, ere the boy, though still pale as marble, -opened his eyes, and eagerly gazed around him. At this, the -delight of the mother was almost frantic. "Where am I?" -exclaimed she "and to whom am I indebted for so happy a -termination to my late dreadful alarm?" -"Madame," answered the count, "you are under the roof of one -who esteems himself most fortunate in having been able to -save you from a further continuance of your sufferings." -"My wretched curiosity has brought all this about," pursued -the lady. "All Paris rung with the praises of Madame -Danglars' beautiful horses, and I had the folly to desire to -know whether they really merited the high praise given to -them." -"Is it possible," exclaimed the count with wellfeigned -astonishment, "that these horses belong to the baroness?" -"They do, indeed. May I inquire if you are acquainted with -Madame Danglars?" -"I have that honor and my happiness at your escape from the -danger that threatened you is redoubled by the consciousness -that I have been the unwilling and the unintentional cause -of all the peril you have incurred. I yesterday purchased -these horses of the baron but as the baroness evidently -regretted parting with them, I ventured to send them back to -her, with a request that she would gratify me by accepting -them from my hands." -"You are, then, doubtless, the Count of Monte Cristo, of -whom Hermine has talked to me so much?" -"You have rightly guessed, madame," replied the count. -"And I am Madame Heloise de Villefort." The count bowed with -the air of a person who hears a name for the first time. -"How grateful will M. de Villefort be for all your goodness -how thankfully will he acknowledge that to you alone he owes -the existence of his wife and child Most certainly, but for -the prompt assistance of your intrepid servant, this dear -child and myself must both have perished." -"Indeed, I still shudder at the fearful danger you were -placed in." -"I trust you will allow me to recompense worthily the -devotion of your man." -"I beseech you, madame," replied Monte Cristo "not to spoil -Ali, either by too great praise or rewards. I cannot allow -him to acquire the habit of expecting to be recompensed for -every trifling service he may render. Ali is my slave, and -in saving your life he was but discharging his duty to me." -"Nay," interposed Madame de Villefort, on whom the -authoritative style adopted by the count made a deep -impression, "nay, but consider that to preserve my life he -has risked his own." -"His life, madame, belongs not to him it is mine, in return -for my having myself saved him from death." Madame de -Villefort made no further reply her mind was utterly -absorbed in the contemplation of the person who, from the -first instant she saw him, had made so powerful an -impression on her. During the evident preoccupation of -Madame de Villefort, Monte Cristo scrutinized the features -and appearance of the boy she kept folded in her arms, -lavishing on him the most tender endearments. The child was -small for his age, and unnaturally pale. A mass of straight -black hair, defying all attempts to train or curl it, fell -over his projecting forehead, and hung down to his -shoulders, giving increased vivacity to eyes already -sparkling with a youthful love of mischief and fondness for -every forbidden enjoyment. His mouth was large, and the -lips, which had not yet regained their color, were -particularly thin in fact, the deep and crafty look, giving -a predominant expression to the child's face, belonged -rather to a boy of twelve or fourteen than to one so young. -His first movement was to free himself by a violent push -from the encircling arms of his mother, and to rush forward -to the casket from whence the count had taken the phial of -elixir then, without asking permission of any one, he -proceeded, in all the wilfulness of a spoiled child -unaccustomed to restrain either whims or caprices, to pull -the corks out of all the bottles. -"Touch nothing, my little friend," cried the count eagerly -"some of those liquids are not only dangerous to taste, but -even to inhale." -Madame de Villefort became very pale, and, seizing her son's -arm, drew him anxiously toward her but, once satisfied of -his safety, she also cast a brief but expressive glance on -the casket, which was not lost upon the count. At this -moment Ali entered. At sight of him Madame de Villefort -uttered an expression of pleasure, and, holding the child -still closer towards her, she said, "Edward, dearest, do you -see that good man? He has shown very great courage and -resolution, for he exposed his own life to stop the horses -that were running away with us, and would certainly have -dashed the carriage to pieces. Thank him, then, my child, in -your very best manner for, had he not come to our aid, -neither you nor I would have been alive to speak our -thanks." The child stuck out his lips and turned away his -head in a disdainful manner, saying, "He's too ugly." -The count smiled as if the child bade fair to realize his -hopes, while Madame de Villefort reprimanded her son with a -gentleness and moderation very far from conveying the least -idea of a fault having been committed. "This lady," said the -Count, speaking to Ali in the Arabic language, "is desirous -that her son should thank you for saving both their lives -but the boy refuses, saying you are too ugly." Ali turned -his intelligent countenance towards the boy, on whom he -gazed without any apparent emotion but the spasmodic -working of the nostrils showed to the practiced eye of Monte -Cristo that the Arab had been wounded to the heart. -"Will you permit me to inquire," said Madame de Villefort, -as she arose to take her leave, "whether you usually reside -here?" -"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo "it is a small place I -have purchased quite lately. My place of abode is No. , -Avenue des Champs Elysees but I see you have quite -recovered from your fright, and are, no doubt, desirous of -returning home. Anticipating your wishes, I have desired the -same horses you came with to be put to one of my carriages, -and Ali, he whom you think so very ugly," continued he, -addressing the boy with a smiling air, "will have the honor -of driving you home, while your coachman remains here to -attend to the necessary repairs of your calash. As soon as -that important business is concluded, I will have a pair of -my own horses harnessed to convey it direct to Madame -Danglars." -"I dare not return with those dreadful horses," said Madame -de Villefort. -"You will see," replied Monte Cristo, "that they will be as -different as possible in the hands of Ali. With him they -will be gentle and docile as lambs." Ali had, indeed, given -proof of this for, approaching the animals, who had been -got upon their legs with considerable difficulty, he rubbed -their foreheads and nostrils with a sponge soaked in -aromatic vinegar, and wiped off the sweat and foam that -covered their mouths. Then, commencing a loud whistling -noise, he rubbed them well all over their bodies for several -minutes then, undisturbed by the noisy crowd collected -round the broken carriage, Ali quietly harnessed the -pacified animals to the count's chariot, took the reins in -his hands, and mounted the box, when to the utter -astonishment of those who had witnessed the ungovernable -spirit and maddened speed of the same horses, he was -actually compelled to apply his whip in no very gentle -manner before he could induce them to start and even then -all that could be obtained from the celebrated "dappled -grays," now changed into a couple of dull, sluggish, stupid -brutes, was a slow, pottering pace, kept up with so much -difficulty that Madame de Villefort was more than two hours -returning to her residence in the Faubourg St. Honore. -Scarcely had the first congratulations upon her marvellous -escape been gone through when she wrote the following letter -to Madame Danglars -Dear Hermine, I have just had a wonderful escape from the -most imminent danger, and I owe my safety to the very Count -of Monte Cristo we were talking about yesterday, but whom I -little expected to see today. I remember how unmercifully I -laughed at what I considered your eulogistic and exaggerated -praises of him but I have now ample cause to admit that -your enthusiastic description of this wonderful man fell far -short of his merits. Your horses got as far as Ranelagh, -when they darted forward like mad things, and galloped away -at so fearful a rate, that there seemed no other prospect -for myself and my poor Edward but that of being dashed to -pieces against the first object that impeded their progress, -when a strangelooking man, an Arab, a negro, or a -Nubian, at least a black of some nation or other at a -signal from the count, whose domestic he is, suddenly seized -and stopped the infuriated animals, even at the risk of -being trampled to death himself and certainly he must have -had a most wonderful escape. The count then hastened to us, -and took us into his house, where he speedily recalled my -poor Edward to life. He sent us home in his own carriage. -Yours will be returned to you tomorrow. You will find your -horses in bad condition, from the results of this accident -they seem thoroughly stupefied, as if sulky and vexed at -having been conquered by man. The count, however, his -commissioned me to assure you that two or three days' rest, -with plenty of barley for their sole food during that time, -will bring them back to as fine, that is as terrifying, a -condition as they were in yesterday. Adieu I cannot return -you many thanks for the drive of yesterday but, after all, -I ought not to blame you for the misconduct of your horses, -more especially as it procured me the pleasure of an -introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, and certainly -that illustrious personage, apart from the millions he is -said to be so very anxious to dispose of, seemed to me one -of those curiously interesting problems I, for one, delight -in solving at any risk, even if it were to necessitate -another drive to the Bois behind your horses. Edward endured -the accident with miraculous courage he did not utter a -single cry, but fell lifeless into my arms nor did a tear -fall from his eyes after it was over. I doubt not you will -consider these praises the result of blind maternal -affection, but there is a soul of iron in that delicate, -fragile body. Valentine sends many affectionate remembrances -to your dear Eugenie. I embrace you with all my heart. -Heloise de Villefort. -P.S. Do pray contrive some means for me to meet the Count -of Monte Cristo at your house. I must and will see him -again. I have just made M. de Villefort promise to call on -him, and I hope the visit will be returned. -That night the adventure at Auteuil was talked of -everywhere. Albert related it to his mother ChateauRenaud -recounted it at the Jockey Club, and Debray detailed it at -length in the salons of the minister even Beauchamp -accorded twenty lines in his journal to the relation of the -count's courage and gallantry, thereby celebrating him as -the greatest hero of the day in the eyes of all the feminine -members of the aristocracy. Vast was the crowd of visitors -and inquiring friends who left their names at the residence -of Madame de Villefort, with the design of renewing their -visit at the right moment, of hearing from her lips all the -interesting circumstances of this most romantic adventure. -As for M. de Villefort, he fulfilled the predictions of -Heloise to the letter, donned his dress suit, drew on a -pair of white gloves, ordered the servants to attend the -carriage dressed in their full livery, and drove that same -night to No. in the Avenue des ChampsElysees. -Chapter -Ideology. -If the Count of Monte Cristo had been for a long time -familiar with the ways of Parisian society, he would have -appreciated better the significance of the step which M. de -Villefort had taken. Standing well at court, whether the -king regnant was of the older or younger branch, whether the -government was doctrinaire liberal, or conservative looked -upon by all as a man of talent, since those who have never -experienced a political check are generally so regarded -hated by many, but warmly supported by others, without being -really liked by anybody, M. de Villefort held a high -position in the magistracy, and maintained his eminence like -a Harlay or a Mole. His drawingroom, under the regenerating -influence of a young wife and a daughter by his first -marriage, scarcely eighteen, was still one of the -wellregulated Paris salons where the worship of traditional -customs and the observance of rigid etiquette were carefully -maintained. A freezing politeness, a strict fidelity to -government principles, a profound contempt for theories and -theorists, a deepseated hatred of ideality, these were -the elements of private and public life displayed by M. de -Villefort. -He was not only a magistrate, he was almost a diplomatist. -His relations with the former court, of which he always -spoke with dignity and respect, made him respected by the -new one, and he knew so many things, that not only was he -always carefully considered, but sometimes consulted. -Perhaps this would not have been so had it been possible to -get rid of M. de Villefort but, like the feudal barons who -rebelled against their sovereign, he dwelt in an impregnable -fortress. This fortress was his post as king's attorney, all -the advantages of which he exploited with marvellous skill, -and which he would not have resigned but to be made deputy, -and thus to replace neutrality by opposition. Ordinarily M. -de Villefort made and returned very few visits. His wife -visited for him, and this was the received thing in the -world, where the weighty and multifarious occupations of the -magistrate were accepted as an excuse for what was really -only calculated pride, a manifestation of professed -superiority in fact, the application of the axiom, -"Pretend to think well of yourself, and the world will think -well of you," an axiom a hundred times more useful in -society nowadays than that of the Greeks, "Know thyself," a -knowledge for which, in our days, we have substituted the -less difficult and more advantageous science of knowing -others. -To his friends M. de Villefort was a powerful protector to -his enemies, he was a silent, but bitter opponent for those -who were neither the one nor the other, he was a statue of -the lawmade man. He had a haughty bearing, a look either -steady and impenetrable or insolently piercing and -inquisitorial. Four successive revolutions had built and -cemented the pedestal upon which his fortune was based. M. -de Villefort had the reputation of being the least curious -and the least wearisome man in France. He gave a ball every -year, at which he appeared for a quarter of an hour only, -that is to say, five and forty minutes less than the king is -visible at his balls. He was never seen at the theatres, at -concerts, or in any place of public resort. Occasionally, -but seldom, he played at whist, and then care was taken to -select partners worthy of him sometimes they were -ambassadors, sometimes archbishops, or sometimes a prince, -or a president, or some dowager duchess. Such was the man -whose carriage had just now stopped before the Count of -Monte Cristo's door. The valet de chambre announced M. de -Villefort at the moment when the count, leaning over a large -table, was tracing on a map the route from St. Petersburg to -China. -The procureur entered with the same grave and measured step -he would have employed in entering a court of justice. He -was the same man, or rather the development of the same man, -whom we have heretofore seen as assistant attorney at -Marseilles. Nature, according to her way, had made no -deviation in the path he had marked out for himself. From -being slender he had now become meagre once pale, he was -now yellow his deepset eyes were hollow, and the gold -spectacles shielding his eyes seemed to be an integral -portion of his face. He dressed entirely in black, with the -exception of his white tie, and his funeral appearance was -only mitigated by the slight line of red ribbon which passed -almost imperceptibly through his buttonhole, and appeared -like a streak of blood traced with a delicate brush. -Although master of himself, Monte Cristo, scrutinized with -irrepressible curiosity the magistrate whose salute he -returned, and who, distrustful by habit, and especially -incredulous as to social prodigies, was much more despised -to look upon "the noble stranger," as Monte Cristo was -already called, as an adventurer in search of new fields, or -an escaped criminal, rather than as a prince of the Holy -See, or a sultan of the Thousand and One Nights. -"Sir," said Villefort, in the squeaky tone assumed by -magistrates in their oratorical periods, and of which they -cannot, or will not, divest themselves in society, "sir, the -signal service which you yesterday rendered to my wife and -son has made it a duty for me to offer you my thanks. I have -come, therefore, to discharge this duty, and to express to -you my overwhelming gratitude." And as he said this, the -"eye severe" of the magistrate had lost nothing of its -habitual arrogance. He spoke in a voice of the -procureurgeneral, with the rigid inflexibility of neck and -shoulders which caused his flatterers to say as we have -before observed that he was the living statue of the law. -"Monsieur," replied the count, with a chilling air, "I am -very happy to have been the means of preserving a son to his -mother, for they say that the sentiment of maternity is the -most holy of all and the good fortune which occurred to me, -monsieur, might have enabled you to dispense with a duty -which, in its discharge, confers an undoubtedly great honor -for I am aware that M. de Villefort is not usually lavish of -the favor which he now bestows on me, a favor which, -however estimable, is unequal to the satisfaction which I -have in my own consciousness." Villefort, astonished at this -reply, which he by no means expected, started like a soldier -who feels the blow levelled at him over the armor he wears, -and a curl of his disdainful lip indicated that from that -moment he noted in the tablets of his brain that the Count -of Monte Cristo was by no means a highly bred gentleman. He -glanced around. in order to seize on something on which the -conversation might turn, and seemed to fall easily on a -topic. He saw the map which Monte Cristo had been examining -when he entered, and said, "You seem geographically engaged, -sir? It is a rich study for you, who, as I learn, have seen -as many lands as are delineated on this map." -"Yes, sir," replied the count "I have sought to make of the -human race, taken in the mass, what you practice every day -on individuals a physiological study. I have believed it -was much easier to descend from the whole to a part than to -ascend from a part to the whole. It is an algebraic axiom, -which makes us proceed from a known to an unknown quantity, -and not from an unknown to a known but sit down, sir, I beg -of you." -Monte Cristo pointed to a chair, which the procureur was -obliged to take the trouble to move forwards himself, while -the count merely fell back into his own, on which he had -been kneeling when M. Villefort entered. Thus the count was -halfway turned towards his visitor, having his back towards -the window, his elbow resting on the geographical chart -which furnished the theme of conversation for the moment, -a conversation which assumed, as in the case of the -interviews with Danglars and Morcerf, a turn analogous to -the persons, if not to the situation. "Ah, you -philosophize," replied Villefort, after a moment's silence, -during which, like a wrestler who encounters a powerful -opponent, he took breath "well, sir, really, if, like you, -I had nothing else to do, I should seek a more amusing -occupation." -"Why, in truth, sir," was Monte Cristo's reply, "man is but -an ugly caterpillar for him who studies him through a solar -microscope but you said, I think, that I had nothing else -to do. Now, really, let me ask, sir, have you? do you -believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms, -do you really think that what you do deserves being called -anything?" -Villefort's astonishment redoubled at this second thrust so -forcibly made by his strange adversary. It was a long time -since the magistrate had heard a paradox so strong, or -rather, to say the truth more exactly, it was the first time -he had ever heard of it. The procureur exerted himself to -reply. "Sir," he responded, "you are a stranger, and I -believe you say yourself that a portion of your life has -been spent in Oriental countries, so you are not aware how -human justice, so expeditions in barbarous countries, takes -with us a prudent and wellstudied course." -"Oh, yes yes, I do, sir it is the pede claudo of the -ancients. I know all that, for it is with the justice of all -countries especially that I have occupied myself it is -with the criminal procedure of all nations that I have -compared natural justice, and I must say, sir, that it is -the law of primitive nations, that is, the law of -retaliation, that I have most frequently found to be -according to the law of God." -"If this law were adopted, sir," said the procureur, "it -would greatly simplify our legal codes, and in that case the -magistrates would not as you just observed have much to -do." -"It may, perhaps, come to this in time," observed Monte -Cristo "you know that human inventions march from the -complex to the simple, and simplicity is always perfection." -"In the meanwhile," continued the magistrate, "our codes are -in full force, with all their contradictory enactments -derived from Gallic customs, Roman laws, and Frank usages -the knowledge of all which, you will agree, is not to be -acquired without extended labor it needs tedious study to -acquire this knowledge, and, when acquired, a strong power -of brain to retain it." -"I agree with you entirely, sir but all that even you know -with respect to the French code, I know, not only in -reference to that code, but as regards the codes of all -nations. The English, Turkish, Japanese, Hindu laws, are as -familiar to me as the French laws, and thus I was right, -when I said to you, that relatively you know that -everything is relative, sir that relatively to what I -have done, you have very little to do but that relatively -to all I have learned, you have yet a great deal to learn." -"But with what motive have you learned all this?" inquired -Villefort, in astonishment. Monte Cristo smiled. "Really, -sir," he observed, "I see that in spite of the reputation -which you have acquired as a superior man, you look at -everything from the material and vulgar view of society, -beginning with man, and ending with man that is to say, -in the most restricted, most narrow view which it is -possible for human understanding to embrace." -"Pray, sir, explain yourself," said Villefort, more and more -astonished, "I really do not understand you -perfectly." -"I say, sir, that with the eyes fixed on the social -organization of nations, you see only the springs of the -machine, and lose sight of the sublime workman who makes -them act I say that you do not recognize before you and -around you any but those officeholders whose commissions -have been signed by a minister or king and that the men -whom God has put above those officeholders, ministers, and -kings, by giving them a mission to follow out, instead of a -post to fill I say that they escape your narrow, limited -field of observation. It is thus that human weakness fails, -from its debilitated and imperfect organs. Tobias took the -angel who restored him to light for an ordinary young man. -The nations took Attila, who was doomed to destroy them, for -a conqueror similar to other conquerors, and it was -necessary for both to reveal their missions, that they might -be known and acknowledged one was compelled to say, "I am -the angel of the Lord' and the other, "I am the hammer of -God,' in order that the divine essence in both might be -revealed." -"Then," said Villefort, more and more amazed, and really -supposing he was speaking to a mystic or a madman, "you -consider yourself as one of those extraordinary beings whom -you have mentioned?" -"And why not?" said Monte Cristo coldly. -"Your pardon, sir," replied Villefort, quite astounded, "but -you will excuse me if, when I presented myself to you, I was -unaware that I should meet with a person whose knowledge and -understanding so far surpass the usual knowledge and -understanding of men. It is not usual with us corrupted -wretches of civilization to find gentlemen like yourself, -possessors, as you are, of immense fortune at least, so -it is said and I beg you to observe that I do not -inquire, I merely repeat it is not usual, I say, for -such privileged and wealthy beings to waste their time in -speculations on the state of society, in philosophical -reveries, intended at best to console those whom fate has -disinherited from the goods of this world." -"Really, sir," retorted the count, "have you attained the -eminent situation in which you are, without having admitted, -or even without having met with exceptions? and do you never -use your eyes, which must have acquired so much finesse and -certainty, to divine, at a glance, the kind of man by whom -you are confronted? Should not a magistrate be not merely -the best administrator of the law, but the most crafty -expounder of the chicanery of his profession, a steel probe -to search hearts, a touchstone to try the gold which in each -soul is mingled with more or less of alloy?" -"Sir," said Villefort, "upon my word, you overcome me. I -really never heard a person speak as you do." -"Because you remain eternally encircled in a round of -general conditions, and have never dared to raise your wings -into those upper spheres which God has peopled with -invisible or exceptional beings." -"And you allow then, sir, that spheres exist, and that these -marked and invisible beings mingle amongst us?" -"Why should they not? Can you see the air you breathe, and -yet without which you could not for a moment exist?" -"Then we do not see those beings to whom you allude?" -"Yes, we do you see them whenever God pleases to allow them -to assume a material form. You touch them, come in contact -with them, speak to them, and they reply to you." -"Ah," said Villefort, smiling, "I confess I should like to -be warned when one of these beings is in contact with me." -"You have been served as you desire, monsieur, for you were -warned just now, and I now again warn you." -"Then you yourself are one of these marked beings?" -"Yes, monsieur, I believe so for until now, no man has -found himself in a position similar to mine. The dominions -of kings are limited either by mountains or rivers, or a -change of manners, or an alteration of language. My kingdom -is bounded only by the world, for I am not an Italian, or a -Frenchman, or a Hindu, or an American, or a Spaniard I am -a cosmopolite. No country can say it saw my birth. God alone -knows what country will see me die. I adopt all customs, -speak all languages. You believe me to be a Frenchman, for I -speak French with the same facility and purity as yourself. -Well, Ali, my Nubian, believes me to be an Arab Bertuccio, -my steward, takes me for a Roman Haidee, my slave, thinks -me a Greek. You may, therefore, comprehend, that being of no -country, asking no protection from any government, -acknowledging no man as my brother, not one of the scruples -that arrest the powerful, or the obstacles which paralyze -the weak, paralyzes or arrests me. I have only two -adversaries I will not say two conquerors, for with -perseverance I subdue even them, they are time and -distance. There is a third, and the most terrible that is -my condition as a mortal being. This alone can stop me in my -onward career, before I have attained the goal at which I -aim, for all the rest I have reduced to mathematical terms. -What men call the chances of fate namely, ruin, change, -circumstances I have fully anticipated, and if any of -these should overtake me, yet it will not overwhelm me. -Unless I die, I shall always be what I am, and therefore it -is that I utter the things you have never heard, even from -the mouths of kings for kings have need, and other -persons have fear of you. For who is there who does not say -to himself, in a society as incongruously organized as ours, -"Perhaps some day I shall have to do with the king's -attorney'?" -"But can you not say that, sir? The moment you become an -inhabitant of France, you are naturally subjected to the -French law." -"I know it sir," replied Monte Cristo "but when I visit a -country I begin to study, by all the means which are -available, the men from whom I may have anything to hope or -to fear, till I know them as well as, perhaps better than, -they know themselves. It follows from this, that the king's -attorney, be he who he may, with whom I should have to deal, -would assuredly be more embarrassed than I should." -"That is to say," replied Villefort with hesitation, "that -human nature being weak, every man, according to your creed, -has committed faults." -"Faults or crimes," responded Monte Cristo with a negligent -air. -"And that you alone, amongst the men whom you do not -recognize as your brothers for you have said so," -observed Villefort in a tone that faltered somewhat "you -alone are perfect." -"No, not perfect," was the count's reply "only -impenetrable, that's all. But let us leave off this strain, -sir, if the tone of it is displeasing to you I am no more -disturbed by your justice than are you by my secondsight." -"No, no, by no means," said Villefort, who was afraid of -seeming to abandon his ground. "No by your brilliant and -almost sublime conversation you have elevated me above the -ordinary level we no longer talk, we rise to dissertation. -But you know how the theologians in their collegiate chairs, -and philosophers in their controversies, occasionally say -cruel truths let us suppose for the moment that we are -theologizing in a social way, or even philosophically, and I -will say to you, rude as it may seem, "My brother, you -sacrifice greatly to pride you may be above others, but -above you there is God.'" -"Above us all, sir," was Monte Cristo's response, in a tone -and with an emphasis so deep that Villefort involuntarily -shuddered. "I have my pride for men serpents always ready -to threaten every one who would pass without crushing them -under foot. But I lay aside that pride before God, who has -taken me from nothing to make me what I am." -"Then, count, I admire you," said Villefort, who, for the -first time in this strange conversation, used the -aristocratic form to the unknown personage, whom, until now, -he had only called monsieur. "Yes, and I say to you, if you -are really strong, really superior, really pious, or -impenetrable, which you were right in saying amounts to the -same thing then be proud, sir, for that is the -characteristic of predominance. Yet you have unquestionably -some ambition." -"I have, sir." -"And what may it be?" -"I too, as happens to every man once in his life, have been -taken by Satan into the highest mountain in the earth, and -when there he showed me all the kingdoms of the world, and -as he said before, so said he to me, "Child of earth, what -wouldst thou have to make thee adore me?' I reflected long, -for a gnawing ambition had long preyed upon me, and then I -replied, "Listen, I have always heard of providence, and -yet I have never seen him, or anything that resembles him, -or which can make me believe that he exists. I wish to be -providence myself, for I feel that the most beautiful, -noblest, most sublime thing in the world, is to recompense -and punish.' Satan bowed his head, and groaned. "You -mistake,' he said, "providence does exist, only you have -never seen him, because the child of God is as invisible as -the parent. You have seen nothing that resembles him, -because he works by secret springs, and moves by hidden -ways. All I can do for you is to make you one of the agents -of that providence.' The bargain was concluded. I may -sacrifice my soul, but what matters it?" added Monte Cristo. -"If the thing were to do again, I would again do it." -Villefort looked at Monte Cristo with extreme amazement. -"Count," he inquired, "have you any relations?" -"No, sir, I am alone in the world." -"So much the worse." -"Why?" asked Monte Cristo. -"Because then you might witness a spectacle calculated to -break down your pride. You say you fear nothing but death?" -"I did not say that I feared it I only said that death -alone could check the execution of my plans." -"And old age?" -"My end will be achieved before I grow old." -"And madness?" -"I have been nearly mad and you know the axiom, non bis -in idem. It is an axiom of criminal law, and, consequently, -you understand its full application." -"Sir," continued Villefort, "there is something to fear -besides death, old age, and madness. For instance, there is -apoplexy that lightningstroke which strikes but does not -destroy you, and yet which brings everything to an end. You -are still yourself as now, and yet you are yourself no -longer you who, like Ariel, verge on the angelic, are but -an inert mass, which, like Caliban, verges on the brutal -and this is called in human tongues, as I tell you, neither -more nor less than apoplexy. Come, if so you will, count, -and continue this conversation at my house, any day you may -be willing to see an adversary capable of understanding and -anxious to refute you, and I will show you my father, M. -Noirtier de Villefort, one of the most fiery Jacobins of the -French Revolution that is to say, he had the most -remarkable audacity, seconded by a most powerful -organization a man who has not, perhaps, like yourself -seen all the kingdoms of the earth, but who has helped to -overturn one of the greatest in fact, a man who believed -himself, like you, one of the envoys, not of God, but of a -supreme being not of providence, but of fate. Well, sir, -the rupture of a bloodvessel on the lobe of the brain has -destroyed all this, not in a day, not in an hour, but in a -second. M. Noirtier, who, on the previous night, was the old -Jacobin, the old senator, the old Carbonaro, laughing at the -guillotine, the cannon, and the dagger M. Noirtier, -playing with revolutions M. Noirtier, for whom France was -a vast chessboard, from which pawns, rooks, knights, and -queens were to disappear, so that the king was checkmated -M. Noirtier, the redoubtable, was the next morning "poor M. -Noirtier,' the helpless old man, at the tender mercies of -the weakest creature in the household, that is, his -grandchild, Valentine a dumb and frozen carcass, in fact, -living painlessly on, that time may be given for his frame -to decompose without his consciousness of its decay." -"Alas, sir," said Monte Cristo "this spectacle is neither -strange to my eye nor my thought. I am something of a -physician, and have, like my fellows, sought more than once -for the soul in living and in dead matter yet, like -providence, it has remained invisible to my eyes, although -present to my heart. A hundred writers since Socrates, -Seneca, St. Augustine, and Gall, have made, in verse and -prose, the comparison you have made, and yet I can well -understand that a father's sufferings may effect great -changes in the mind of a son. I will call on you, sir, since -you bid me contemplate, for the advantage of my pride, this -terrible spectacle, which must have been so great a source -of sorrow to your family." -"It would have been so unquestionably, had not God given me -so large a compensation. In contrast with the old man, who -is dragging his way to the tomb, are two children just -entering into life Valentine, the daughter by my first -wife Mademoiselle Renee de SaintMeran and Edward, the -boy whose life you have this day saved." -"And what is your deduction from this compensation, sir?" -inquired Monte Cristo. -"My deduction is," replied Villefort, "that my father, led -away by his passions, has committed some fault unknown to -human justice, but marked by the justice of God. That God, -desirous in his mercy to punish but one person, has visited -this justice on him alone." Monte Cristo with a smile on his -lips, uttered in the depths of his soul a groan which would -have made Villefort fly had he but heard it. "Adieu, sir," -said the magistrate, who had risen from his seat "I leave -you, bearing a remembrance of you a remembrance of -esteem, which I hope will not be disagreeable to you when -you know me better for I am not a man to bore my friends, -as you will learn. Besides, you have made an eternal friend -of Madame de Villefort." The count bowed, and contented -himself with seeing Villefort to the door of his cabinet, -the procureur being escorted to his carriage by two footmen, -who, on a signal from their master, followed him with every -mark of attention. When he had gone, Monte Cristo breathed a -profound sigh, and said, "Enough of this poison, let me -now seek the antidote." Then sounding his bell, he said to -Ali, who entered, "I am going to madam's chamber have the -carriage ready at one o'clock." -Chapter -Haidee. -It will be recollected that the new, or rather old, -acquaintances of the Count of Monte Cristo, residing in the -Rue Meslay, were no other than Maximilian, Julie, and -Emmanuel. The very anticipations of delight to be enjoyed in -his forthcoming visits the bright, pure gleam of heavenly -happiness it diffused over the almost deadly warfare in -which he had voluntarily engaged, illumined his whole -countenance with a look of ineffable joy and calmness, as, -immediately after Villefort's departure, his thoughts flew -back to the cheering prospect before him, of tasting, at -least, a brief respite from the fierce and stormy passions -of his mind. Even Ali, who had hastened to obey the Count's -summons, went forth from his master's presence in charmed -amazement at the unusual animation and pleasure depicted on -features ordinarily so stern and cold while, as though -dreading to put to flight the agreeable ideas hovering over -his patron's meditations, whatever they were, the faithful -Nubian walked on tiptoe towards the door, holding his -breath, lest its faintest sound should dissipate his -master's happy reverie. -It was noon, and Monte Cristo had set apart one hour to be -passed in the apartments of Haidee, as though his oppressed -spirit could not all at once admit the feeling of pure and -unmixed joy, but required a gradual succession of calm and -gentle emotions to prepare his mind to receive full and -perfect happiness, in the same manner as ordinary natures -demand to be inured by degrees to the reception of strong or -violent sensations. The young Greek, as we have already -said, occupied apartments wholly unconnected with those of -the count. The rooms had been fitted up in strict accordance -with Oriental ideas the floors were covered with the -richest carpets Turkey could produce the walls hung with -brocaded silk of the most magnificent designs and texture -while around each chamber luxurious divans were placed, with -piles of soft and yielding cushions, that needed only to be -arranged at the pleasure or convenience of such as sought -repose. Haidee and three French maids, and one who was a -Greek. The first three remained constantly in a small -waitingroom, ready to obey the summons of a small golden -bell, or to receive the orders of the Romaic slave, who knew -just enough French to be able to transmit her mistress's -wishes to the three other waitingwomen the latter had -received most peremptory instructions from Monte Cristo to -treat Haidee with all the deference they would observe to a -queen. -The young girl herself generally passed her time in the -chamber at the farther end of her apartments. This was a -sort of boudoir, circular, and lighted only from the roof, -which consisted of rosecolored glass. Haidee was reclining -upon soft downy cushions, covered with blue satin spotted -with silver her head, supported by one of her exquisitely -moulded arms, rested on the divan immediately behind her, -while the other was employed in adjusting to her lips the -coral tube of a rich narghile, through whose flexible pipe -she drew the smoke fragrant by its passage through perfumed -water. Her attitude, though perfectly natural for an Eastern -woman would, in a European, have been deemed too full of -coquettish straining after effect. Her dress, which was that -of the women of Epirus, consisted of a pair of white satin -trousers, embroidered with pink roses, displaying feet so -exquisitely formed and so delicately fair, that they might -well have been taken for Parian marble, had not the eye been -undeceived by their movements as they constantly shifted in -and out of a pair of little slippers with upturned toes, -beautifully ornamented with gold and pearls. She wore a blue -and whitestriped vest, with long open sleeves, trimmed with -silver loops and buttons of pearls, and a sort of bodice, -which, closing only from the centre to the waist, exhibited -the whole of the ivory throat and upper part of the bosom -it was fastened with three magnificent diamond clasps. The -junction of the bodice and drawers was entirely concealed by -one of the manycolored scarfs, whose brilliant hues and -rich silken fringe have rendered them so precious in the -eyes of Parisian belles. Tilted on one side of her head she -had a small cap of goldcolored silk, embroidered with -pearls while on the other a purple rose mingled its glowing -colors with the luxuriant masses of her hair, of which the -blackness was so intense that it was tinged with blue. The -extreme beauty of the countenance, that shone forth in -loveliness that mocked the vain attempts of dress to augment -it, was peculiarly and purely Grecian there were the large, -dark, melting eyes, the finely formed nose, the coral lips, -and pearly teeth, that belonged to her race and country. -And, to complete the whole, Haidee was in the very -springtide and fulness of youthful charms she had not yet -numbered more than twenty summers. -Monte Cristo summoned the Greek attendant, and bade her -inquire whether it would be agreeable to her mistress to -receive his visit. Haidee's only reply was to direct her -servant by a sign to withdraw the tapestried curtain that -hung before the door of her boudoir, the framework of the -opening thus made serving as a sort of border to the -graceful tableau presented by the young girl's picturesque -attitude and appearance. As Monte Cristo approached, she -leaned upon the elbow of the arm that held the narghile, and -extending to him her other hand, said, with a smile of -captivating sweetness, in the sonorous language spoken by -the women of Athens and Sparta, "Why demand permission ere -you enter? Are you no longer my master, or have I ceased to -be your slave?" Monte Cristo returned her smile. "Haidee," -said he, "you well know." -"Why do you address me so coldly so distantly?" asked the -young Greek. "Have I by any means displeased you? Oh, if so, -punish me as you will but do not do not speak to me in -tones and manner so formal and constrained." -"Haidee," replied the count, "you know that you are now in -France, and are free." -"Free to do what?" asked the young girl. -"Free to leave me." -"Leave you? Why should I leave you?" -"That is not for me to say but we are now about to mix in -society to visit and be visited." -"I don't wish to see anybody but you." -"And should you see one whom you could prefer, I would not -be so unjust" -"I have never seen any one I preferred to you, and I have -never loved any one but you and my father." -"My poor child," replied Monte Cristo, "that is merely -because your father and myself are the only men who have -ever talked to you." -"I don't want anybody else to talk to me. My father said I -was his "joy' you style me your "love,' and both of -you have called me "my child.'" -"Do you remember your father, Haidee?" The young Greek -smiled. "He is here, and here," said she, touching her eyes -and her heart. "And where am I?" inquired Monte Cristo -laughingly. -"You?" cried she, with tones of thrilling tenderness, "you -are everywhere" Monte Cristo took the delicate hand of the -young girl in his, and was about to raise it to his lips, -when the simple child of nature hastily withdrew it, and -presented her cheek. "You now understand, Haidee," said the -count, "that from this moment you are absolutely free that -here you exercise unlimited sway, and are at liberty to lay -aside or continue the costume of your country, as it may -suit your inclination. Within this mansion you are absolute -mistress of your actions, and may go abroad or remain in -your apartments as may seem most agreeable to you. A -carriage waits your orders, and Ali and Myrtho will -accompany you whithersoever you desire to go. There is but -one favor I would entreat of you." -"Speak." -"Guard carefully the secret of your birth. Make no allusion -to the past nor upon any occasion be induced to pronounce -the names of your illustrious father or illfated mother." -"I have already told you, my lord, that I shall see no one." -"It is possible, Haidee, that so perfect a seclusion, though -conformable with the habits and customs of the East, may not -be practicable in Paris. Endeavor, then, to accustom -yourself to our manner of living in these northern climes as -you did to those of Rome, Florence, Milan, and Madrid it -may be useful to you one of these days, whether you remain -here or return to the East." The young girl raised her -tearful eyes towards Monte Cristo as she said with touching -earnestness, "Whether we return to the East, you mean to -say, my lord, do you not?" -"My child," returned Monte Cristo "you know full well that -whenever we part, it will be no fault or wish of mine the -tree forsakes not the flower the flower falls from the -tree." -"My lord," replied Haidee, "I never will leave you, for I am -sure I could not exist without you." -"My poor girl, in ten years I shall be old, and you will be -still young." -"My father had a long white beard, but I loved him he was -sixty years old, but to me he was handsomer than all the -fine youths I saw." -"Then tell me, Haidee, do you believe you shall be able to -accustom yourself to our present mode of life?" -"Shall I see you?" -"Every day." -"Then what do you fear, my lord?" -"You might find it dull." -"No, my lord. In the morning, I shall rejoice in the -prospect of your coming, and in the evening dwell with -delight on the happiness I have enjoyed in your presence -then too, when alone, I can call forth mighty pictures of -the past, see vast horizons bounded only by the towering -mountains of Pindus and Olympus. Oh, believe me, that when -three great passions, such as sorrow, love, and gratitude -fill the heart, ennui can find no place." -"You are a worthy daughter of Epirus, Haidee, and your -charming and poetical ideas prove well your descent from -that race of goddesses who claim your country as their -birthplace. Depend on my care to see that your youth is not -blighted, or suffered to pass away in ungenial solitude and -of this be well assured, that if you love me as a father, I -love you as a child." -"You are wrong, my lord. The love I have for you is very -different from the love I had for my father. My father died, -but I did not die. If you were to die, I should die too." -The Count, with a smile of profound tenderness, extended his -hand, and she carried it to her lips. Monte Cristo, thus -attuned to the interview he proposed to hold with Morrel and -his family, departed, murmuring as he went these lines of -Pindar, "Youth is a flower of which love is the fruit happy -is he who, after having watched its silent growth, is -permitted to gather and call it his own." The carriage was -prepared according to orders, and stepping lightly into it, -the count drove off at his usual rapid pace. -Chapter -The Morrel Family. -In a very few minutes the count reached No. in the Rue -Meslay. The house was of white stone, and in a small court -before it were two small beds full of beautiful flowers. In -the concierge that opened the gate the count recognized -Cocles but as he had but one eye, and that eye had become -somewhat dim in the course of nine years, Cocles did not -recognize the count. The carriages that drove up to the door -were compelled to turn, to avoid a fountain that played in a -basin of rockwork, an ornament that had excited the -jealousy of the whole quarter, and had gained for the place -the appellation of "The Little Versailles." It is needless -to add that there were gold and silver fish in the basin. -The house, with kitchens and cellars below, had above the -groundfloor, two stories and attics. The whole of the -property, consisting of an immense workshop, two pavilions -at the bottom of the garden, and the garden itself, had been -purchased by Emmanuel, who had seen at a glance that he -could make of it a profitable speculation. He had reserved -the house and half the garden, and building a wall between -the garden and the workshops, had let them upon lease with -the pavilions at the bottom of the garden. So that for a -trifling sum he was as well lodged, and as perfectly shut -out from observation, as the inhabitants of the finest -mansion in the Faubourg St. Germain. The breakfastroom was -finished in oak the salon in mahogany, and the furnishings -were of blue velvet the bedroom was in citronwood and green -damask. There was a study for Emmanuel, who never studied, -and a musicroom for Julie, who never played. The whole of -the second story was set apart for Maximilian it was -precisely similar to his sister's apartments, except that -for the breakfastparlor he had a billiardroom, where he -received his friends. He was superintending the grooming of -his horse, and smoking his cigar at the entrance of the -garden, when the count's carriage stopped at the gate. -Cocles opened the gate, and Baptistin, springing from the -box, inquired whether Monsieur and Madame Herbault and -Monsieur Maximilian Morrel would see his excellency the -Count of Monte Cristo. "The Count of Monte Cristo?" cried -Morrel, throwing away his cigar and hastening to the -carriage "I should think we would see him. Ah, a thousand -thanks, count, for not having forgotten your promise." And -the young officer shook the count's hand so warmly, that -Monte Cristo could not be mistaken as to the sincerity of -his joy, and he saw that he had been expected with -impatience, and was received with pleasure. "Come, come," -said Maximilian, "I will serve as your guide such a man as -you are ought not to be introduced by a servant. My sister -is in the garden plucking the dead roses my brother is -reading his two papers, the Presse and the Debats, within -six steps of her for wherever you see Madame Herbault, you -have only to look within a circle of four yards and you will -find M. Emmanuel, and "reciprocally,' as they say at the -Polytechnic School." At the sound of their steps a young -woman of twenty to five and twenty, dressed in a silk -morning gown, and busily engaged in plucking the dead leaves -off a noisette rosetree, raised her head. This was Julie, -who had become, as the clerk of the house of Thomson -French had predicted, Madame Emmanuel Herbault. She uttered -a cry of surprise at the sight of a stranger, and Maximilian -began to laugh. "Don't disturb yourself, Julie," said he. -"The count has only been two or three days in Paris, but he -already knows what a fashionable woman of the Marais is, and -if he does not, you will show him." -"Ah, monsieur," returned Julie, "it is treason in my brother -to bring you thus, but he never has any regard for his poor -sister. Penelon, Penelon" An old man, who was digging -busily at one of the beds, stuck his spade in the earth, and -approached, cap in hand, striving to conceal a quid of -tobacco he had just thrust into his cheek. A few locks of -gray mingled with his hair, which was still thick and -matted, while his bronzed features and determined glance -well suited an old sailor who had braved the heat of the -equator and the storms of the tropics. "I think you hailed -me, Mademoiselle Julie?" said he. Penelon had still -preserved the habit of calling his master's daughter -"Mademoiselle Julie," and had never been able to change the -name to Madame Herbault. "Penelon," replied Julie, "go and -inform M. Emmanuel of this gentleman's visit, and Maximilian -will conduct him to the salon." Then, turning to Monte -Cristo, "I hope you will permit me to leave you for a few -minutes," continued she and without awaiting any reply, -disappeared behind a clump of trees, and escaped to the -house by a lateral alley. -"I am sorry to see," observed Monte Cristo to Morrel, "that -I cause no small disturbance in your house." -"Look there," said Maximilian, laughing "there is her -husband changing his jacket for a coat. I assure you, you -are well known in the Rue Meslay." -"Your family appears to be a very happy one," said the -count, as if speaking to himself. -"Oh, yes, I assure you, count, they want nothing that can -render them happy they are young and cheerful, they are -tenderly attached to each other, and with twentyfive -thousand francs a year they fancy themselves as rich as -Rothschild." -"Five and twenty thousand francs is not a large sum, -however," replied Monte Cristo, with a tone so sweet and -gentle, that it went to Maximilian's heart like the voice of -a father "but they will not be content with that. Your -brotherinlaw is a barrister? a doctor?" -"He was a merchant, monsieur, and had succeeded to the -business of my poor father. M. Morrel, at his death, left -, francs, which were divided between my sister and -myself, for we were his only children. Her husband, who, -when he married her, had no other patrimony than his noble -probity, his firstrate ability, and his spotless -reputation, wished to possess as much as his wife. He -labored and toiled until he had amassed , francs six -years sufficed to achieve this object. Oh, I assure you, -sir, it was a touching spectacle to see these young -creatures, destined by their talents for higher stations, -toiling together, and through their unwillingness to change -any of the customs of their paternal house, taking six years -to accomplish what less scrupulous people would have -effected in two or three. Marseilles resounded with their -wellearned praises. At last, one day, Emmanuel came to his -wife, who had just finished making up the accounts. "Julie,' -said he to her, "Cocles has just given me the last rouleau -of a hundred francs that completes the , francs we -had fixed as the limits of our gains. Can you content -yourself with the small fortune which we shall possess for -the future? Listen to me. Our house transacts business to -the amount of a million a year, from which we derive an -income of , francs. We can dispose of the business, if -we please, in an hour, for I have received a letter from M. -Delaunay, in which he offers to purchase the goodwill of -the house, to unite with his own, for , francs. Advise -me what I had better do.' "Emmanuel,' returned my sister, -"the house of Morrel can only be carried on by a Morrel. Is -it not worth , francs to save our father's name from -the chances of evil fortune and failure?' "I thought so,' -replied Emmanuel "but I wished to have your advice.' -"This is my counsel Our accounts are made up and our -bills paid all we have to do is to stop the issue of any -more, and close our office.' This was done instantly. It was -three o'clock at a quarter past, a merchant presented -himself to insure two ships it was a clear profit of , -francs. "Monsieur,' said Emmanuel, "have the goodness to -address yourself to M. Delaunay. We have quitted business.' -"How long?' inquired the astonished merchant. "A quarter -of an hour,' was the reply. And this is the reason, -monsieur," continued Maximilian, "of my sister and -brotherinlaw having only , francs a year." -Maximilian had scarcely finished his story, during which the -count's heart had swelled within him, when Emmanuel entered -wearing a hat and coat. He saluted the count with the air of -a man who is aware of the rank of his guest then, after -having led Monte Cristo around the little garden, he -returned to the house. A large vase of Japan porcelain, -filled with flowers that loaded the air with their perfume, -stood in the salon. Julie, suitably dressed, and her hair -arranged she had accomplished this feat in less than ten -minutes, received the count on his entrance. The songs of -the birds were heard in an aviary hard by, and the branches -of laburnums and rose acacias formed an exquisite framework -to the blue velvet curtains. Everything in this charming -retreat, from the warble of the birds to the smile of the -mistress, breathed tranquillity and repose. The count had -felt the influence of this happiness from the moment he -entered the house, and he remained silent and pensive, -forgetting that he was expected to renew the conversation, -which had ceased after the first salutations had been -exchanged. The silence became almost painful when, by a -violent effort, tearing himself from his pleasing reverie -"Madame," said he at length, "I pray you to excuse my -emotion, which must astonish you who are only accustomed to -the happiness I meet here but contentment is so new a sight -to me, that I could never be weary of looking at yourself -and your husband." -"We are very happy, monsieur," replied Julie "but we have -also known unhappiness, and few have ever undergone more -bitter sufferings than ourselves." The Count's features -displayed an expression of the most intense curiosity. -"Oh, all this is a family history, as ChateauRenaud told -you the other day," observed Maximilian. "This humble -picture would have but little interest for you, accustomed -as you are to behold the pleasures and the misfortunes of -the wealthy and industrious but such as we are, we have -experienced bitter sorrows." -"And God has poured balm into your wounds, as he does into -those of all who are in affliction?" said Monte Cristo -inquiringly. -"Yes, count," returned Julie, "we may indeed say he has, for -he has done for us what he grants only to his chosen he -sent us one of his angels." The count's cheeks became -scarlet, and he coughed, in order to have an excuse for -putting his handkerchief to his mouth. "Those born to -wealth, and who have the means of gratifying every wish," -said Emmanuel, "know not what is the real happiness of life, -just as those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of -the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the -blessings of fair weather." -Monte Cristo rose, and without making any answer for the -tremulousness of his voice would have betrayed his emotion -walked up and down the apartment with a slow step. -"Our magnificence makes you smile, count," said Maximilian, -who had followed him with his eyes. "No, no," returned Monte -Cristo, pale as death, pressing one hand on his heart to -still its throbbings, while with the other he pointed to a -crystal cover, beneath which a silken purse lay on a black -velvet cushion. "I was wondering what could be the -significance of this purse, with the paper at one end and -the large diamond at the other." -"Count," replied Maximilian, with an air of gravity, "those -are our most precious family treasures." -"The stone seems very brilliant," answered the count. -"Oh, my brother does not allude to its value, although it -has been estimated at , francs he means, that the -articles contained in this purse are the relics of the angel -I spoke of just now." -"This I do not comprehend and yet I may not ask for an -explanation, madame," replied Monte Cristo bowing. "Pardon -me, I had no intention of committing an indiscretion." -"Indiscretion, oh, you make us happy by giving us an -excuse for expatiating on this subject. If we wanted to -conceal the noble action this purse commemorates, we should -not expose it thus to view. Oh, would we could relate it -everywhere, and to every one, so that the emotion of our -unknown benefactor might reveal his presence." -"Ah, really," said Monte Cristo in a halfstifled voice. -"Monsieur," returned Maximilian, raising the glass cover, -and respectfully kissing the silken purse, "this has touched -the hand of a man who saved my father from suicide, us from -ruin, and our name from shame and disgrace, a man by -whose matchless benevolence we poor children, doomed to want -and wretchedness, can at present hear every one envying our -happy lot. This letter" as he spoke, Maximilian drew a -letter from the purse and gave it to the count "this -letter was written by him the day that my father had taken a -desperate resolution, and this diamond was given by the -generous unknown to my sister as her dowry." Monte Cristo -opened the letter, and read it with an indescribable feeling -of delight. It was the letter written as our readers know -to Julie, and signed "Sinbad the Sailor." "Unknown you say, -is the man who rendered you this service unknown to you?" -"Yes we have never had the happiness of pressing his hand," -continued Maximilian. "We have supplicated heaven in vain to -grant us this favor, but the whole affair has had a -mysterious meaning that we cannot comprehend we have been -guided by an invisible hand, a hand as powerful as that -of an enchanter." -"Oh," cried Julie, "I have not lost all hope of some day -kissing that hand, as I now kiss the purse which he has -touched. Four years ago, Penelon was at Trieste Penelon, -count, is the old sailor you saw in the garden, and who, -from quartermaster, has become gardener Penelon, when he -was at Trieste, saw on the quay an Englishman, who was on -the point of embarking on board a yacht, and he recognized -him as the person who called on my father the fifth of June, -, and who wrote me this letter on the fifth of -September. He felt convinced of his identity, but he did not -venture to address him." -"An Englishman," said Monte Cristo, who grew uneasy at the -attention with which Julie looked at him. "An Englishman you -say?" -"Yes," replied Maximilian, "an Englishman, who represented -himself as the confidential clerk of the house of Thomson -French, at Rome. It was this that made me start when you -said the other day, at M. de Morcerf's, that Messrs. Thomson - French were your bankers. That happened, as I told you, in -. For God's sake, tell me, did you know this -Englishman?" -"But you tell me, also, that the house of Thomson French -have constantly denied having rendered you this service?" -"Yes." -"Then is it not probable that this Englishman may be some -one who, grateful for a kindness your father had shown him, -and which he himself had forgotten, has taken this method of -requiting the obligation?" -"Everything is possible in this affair, even a miracle." -"What was his name?" asked Monte Cristo. -"He gave no other name," answered Julie, looking earnestly -at the count, "than that at the end of his letter "Sinbad -the Sailor.'" -"Which is evidently not his real name, but a fictitious -one." -Then, noticing that Julie was struck with the sound of his -voice, -"Tell me," continued he, "was he not about my height, -perhaps a little taller, with his chin imprisoned, as it -were, in a high cravat his coat closely buttoned up, and -constantly taking out his pencil?" -"Oh, do you then know him?" cried Julie, whose eyes sparkled -with joy. -"No," returned Monte Cristo "I only guessed. I knew a Lord -Wilmore, who was constantly doing actions of this kind." -"Without revealing himself?" -"He was an eccentric being, and did not believe in the -existence of gratitude." -"Oh, heaven," exclaimed Julie, clasping her hands, "in what -did he believe, then?" -"He did not credit it at the period which I knew him," said -Monte Cristo, touched to the heart by the accents of Julie's -voice "but, perhaps, since then he has had proofs that -gratitude does exist." -"And do you know this gentleman, monsieur?" inquired -Emmanuel. -"Oh, if you do know him," cried Julie, "can you tell us -where he is where we can find him? Maximilian Emmanuel -if we do but discover him, he must believe in the -gratitude of the heart" Monte Cristo felt tears start into -his eyes, and he again walked hastily up and down the room. -"In the name of heaven," said Maximilian, "if you know -anything of him, tell us what it is." -"Alas," cried Monte Cristo, striving to repress his emotion, -"if Lord Wilmore was your unknown benefactor, I fear you -will never see him again. I parted from him two years ago at -Palermo, and he was then on the point of setting out for the -most remote regions so that I fear he will never return." -"Oh, monsieur, this is cruel of you," said Julie, much -affected and the young lady's eyes swam with tears. -"Madame," replied Monte Cristo gravely, and gazing earnestly -on the two liquid pearls that trickled down Julie's cheeks, -"had Lord Wilmore seen what I now see, he would become -attached to life, for the tears you shed would reconcile him -to mankind" and he held out his hand to Julie, who gave him -hers, carried away by the look and accent of the count. -"But," continued she, "Lord Wilmore had a family or friends, -he must have known some one, can we not " -"Oh, it is useless to inquire," returned the count -"perhaps, after all, he was not the man you seek for. He was -my friend he had no secrets from me, and if this had been -so he would have confided in me." -"And he told you nothing?" -"Not a word." -"Nothing that would lead you to suppose?" -"Nothing." -"And yet you spoke of him at once." -"Ah, in such a case one supposes" -"Sister, sister," said Maximilian, coming to the count's -aid, "monsieur is quite right. Recollect what our excellent -father so often told us, "It was no Englishman that thus -saved us.'" Monte Cristo started. "What did your father tell -you, M. Morrel?" said he eagerly. -"My father thought that this action had been miraculously -performed he believed that a benefactor had arisen from -the grave to save us. Oh, it was a touching superstition, -monsieur, and although I did not myself believe it, I would -not for the world have destroyed my father's faith. How -often did he muse over it and pronounce the name of a dear -friend a friend lost to him forever and on his -deathbed, when the near approach of eternity seemed to have -illumined his mind with supernatural light, this thought, -which had until then been but a doubt, became a conviction, -and his last words were, "Maximilian, it was Edmond -Dantes'" At these words the count's paleness, which had for -some time been increasing, became alarming he could not -speak he looked at his watch like a man who has forgotten -the hour, said a few hurried words to Madame Herbault, and -pressing the hands of Emmanuel and Maximilian, "Madame," -said he, "I trust you will allow me to visit you -occasionally I value your friendship, and feel grateful to -you for your welcome, for this is the first time for many -years that I have thus yielded to my feelings" and he -hastily quitted the apartment. -"This Count of Monte Cristo is a strange man," said -Emmanuel. -"Yes," answered Maximilian, "but I feel sure he has an -excellent heart, and that he likes us." -"His voice went to my heart," observed Julie "and two or -three times I fancied that I had heard it before." -Chapter -Pyramus and Thisbe. -About twothirds of the way along the Faubourg SaintHonore, -and in the rear of one of the most imposing mansions in this -rich neighborhood, where the various houses vie with each -other for elegance of design and magnificence of -construction, extended a large garden, where the -widespreading chestnuttrees raised their heads high above -the walls in a solid rampart, and with the coming of every -spring scattered a shower of delicate pink and white -blossoms into the large stone vases that stood upon the two -square pilasters of a curiously wrought iron gate, that -dated from the time of Louis XII. This noble entrance, -however, in spite of its striking appearance and the -graceful effect of the geraniums planted in the two vases, -as they waved their variegated leaves in the wind and -charmed the eye with their scarlet bloom, had fallen into -utter disuse. The proprietors of the mansion had many years -before thought it best to confine themselves to the -possession of the house itself, with its thickly planted -courtyard, opening into the Faubourg SaintHonore, and to -the garden shut in by this gate, which formerly communicated -with a fine kitchengarden of about an acre. For the demon -of speculation drew a line, or in other words projected a -street, at the farther side of the kitchengarden. The -street was laid out, a name was chosen and posted up on an -iron plate, but before construction was begun, it occurred -to the possessor of the property that a handsome sum might -be obtained for the ground then devoted to fruits and -vegetables, by building along the line of the proposed -street, and so making it a branch of communication with the -Faubourg SaintHonore itself, one of the most important -thoroughfares in the city of Paris. -In matters of speculation, however, though "man proposes," -"money disposes." From some such difficulty the newly named -street died almost in birth, and the purchaser of the -kitchengarden, having paid a high price for it, and being -quite unable to find any one willing to take his bargain off -his hands without a considerable loss, yet still clinging to -the belief that at some future day he should obtain a sum -for it that would repay him, not only for his past outlay, -but also the interest upon the capital locked up in his new -acquisition, contented himself with letting the ground -temporarily to some marketgardeners, at a yearly rental of - francs. And so, as we have said, the iron gate leading -into the kitchengarden had been closed up and left to the -rust, which bade fair before long to eat off its hinges, -while to prevent the ignoble glances of the diggers and -delvers of the ground from presuming to sully the -aristocratic enclosure belonging to the mansion, the gate -had been boarded up to a height of six feet. True, the -planks were not so closely adjusted but that a hasty peep -might be obtained through their interstices but the strict -decorum and rigid propriety of the inhabitants of the house -left no grounds for apprehending that advantage would be -taken of that circumstance. -Horticulture seemed, however, to have been abandoned in the -deserted kitchengarden and where cabbages, carrots, -radishes, pease, and melons had once flourished, a scanty -crop of lucerne alone bore evidence of its being deemed -worthy of cultivation. A small, low door gave egress from -the walled space we have been describing into the projected -street, the ground having been abandoned as unproductive by -its various renters, and had now fallen so completely in -general estimation as to return not even the onehalf per -cent it had originally paid. Towards the house the -chestnuttrees we have before mentioned rose high above the -wall, without in any way affecting the growth of other -luxuriant shrubs and flowers that eagerly dressed forward to -fill up the vacant spaces, as though asserting their right -to enjoy the boon of light and air. At one corner, where the -foliage became so thick as almost to shut out day, a large -stone bench and sundry rustic seats indicated that this -sheltered spot was either in general favor or particular use -by some inhabitant of the house, which was faintly -discernible through the dense mass of verdure that partially -concealed it, though situated but a hundred paces off. -Whoever had selected this retired portion of the grounds as -the boundary of a walk, or as a place for meditation, was -abundantly justified in the choice by the absence of all -glare, the cool, refreshing shade, the screen it afforded -from the scorching rays of the sun, that found no entrance -there even during the burning days of hottest summer, the -incessant and melodious warbling of birds, and the entire -removal from either the noise of the street or the bustle of -the mansion. On the evening of one of the warmest days -spring had yet bestowed on the inhabitants of Paris, might -be seen negligently thrown upon the stone bench, a book, a -parasol, and a workbasket, from which hung a partly -embroidered cambric handkerchief, while at a little distance -from these articles was a young woman, standing close to the -iron gate, endeavoring to discern something on the other -side by means of the openings in the planks, the -earnestness of her attitude and the fixed gaze with which -she seemed to seek the object of her wishes, proving how -much her feelings were interested in the matter. At that -instant the little sidegate leading from the waste ground -to the street was noiselessly opened, and a tall, powerful -young man appeared. He was dressed in a common gray blouse -and velvet cap, but his carefully arranged hair, beard and -mustache, all of the richest and glossiest black, ill -accorded with his plebeian attire. After casting a rapid -glance around him, in order to assure himself that he was -unobserved, he entered by the small gate, and, carefully -closing and securing it after him, proceeded with a hurried -step towards the barrier. -At the sight of him she expected, though probably not in -such a costume, the young woman started in terror, and was -about to make a hasty retreat. But the eye of love had -already seen, even through the narrow chinks of the wooden -palisades, the movement of the white robe, and observed the -fluttering of the blue sash. Pressing his lips close to the -planks, he exclaimed, "Don't be alarmed, Valentine it is -I" Again the timid girl found courage to return to the -gate, saying, as she did so, "And why do you come so late -today? It is almost dinnertime, and I had to use no little -diplomacy to get rid of my watchful motherinlaw, my -toodevoted maid, and my troublesome brother, who is always -teasing me about coming to work at my embroidery, which I am -in a fair way never to get done. So pray excuse yourself as -well as you can for having made me wait, and, after that, -tell me why I see you in a dress so singular that at first I -did not recognize you." -"Dearest Valentine," said the young man, "the difference -between our respective stations makes me fear to offend you -by speaking of my love, but yet I cannot find myself in your -presence without longing to pour forth my soul, and tell you -how fondly I adore you. If it be but to carry away with me -the recollection of such sweet moments, I could even thank -you for chiding me, for it leaves me a gleam of hope, that -if you did not expect me and that indeed would be worse -than vanity to suppose, at least I was in your thoughts. -You asked me the cause of my being late, and why I come -disguised. I will candidly explain the reason of both, and I -trust to your goodness to pardon me. I have chosen a trade." -"A trade? Oh, Maximilian, how can you jest at a time when we -have such deep cause for uneasiness?" -"Heaven keep me from jesting with that which is far dearer -to me than life itself But listen to me, Valentine, and I -will tell you all about it. I became weary of ranging fields -and scaling walls, and seriously alarmed at the idea -suggested by you, that if caught hovering about here your -father would very likely have me sent to prison as a thief. -That would compromise the honor of the French army, to say -nothing of the fact that the continual presence of a captain -of Spahis in a place where no warlike projects could be -supposed to account for it might well create surprise so I -have become a gardener, and, consequently, adopted the -costume of my calling." -"What excessive nonsense you talk, Maximilian" -"Nonsense? Pray do not call what I consider the wisest -action of my life by such a name. Consider, by becoming a -gardener I effectually screen our meetings from all -suspicion or danger." -"I beseech of you, Maximilian, to cease trifling, and tell -me what you really mean." -"Simply, that having ascertained that the piece of ground on -which I stand was to let, I made application for it, was -readily accepted by the proprietor, and am now master of -this fine crop of lucerne. Think of that, Valentine There -is nothing now to prevent my building myself a little hut on -my plantation, and residing not twenty yards from you. Only -imagine what happiness that would afford me. I can scarcely -contain myself at the bare idea. Such felicity seems above -all price as a thing impossible and unattainable. But -would you believe that I purchase all this delight, joy, and -happiness, for which I would cheerfully have surrendered ten -years of my life, at the small cost of francs per annum, -paid quarterly? Henceforth we have nothing to fear. I am on -my own ground, and have an undoubted right to place a ladder -against the wall, and to look over when I please, without -having any apprehensions of being taken off by the police as -a suspicious character. I may also enjoy the precious -privilege of assuring you of my fond, faithful, and -unalterable affection, whenever you visit your favorite -bower, unless, indeed, it offends your pride to listen to -professions of love from the lips of a poor workingman, clad -in a blouse and cap." A faint cry of mingled pleasure and -surprise escaped from the lips of Valentine, who almost -instantly said, in a saddened tone, as though some envious -cloud darkened the joy which illumined her heart, "Alas, no, -Maximilian, this must not be, for many reasons. We should -presume too much on our own strength, and, like others, -perhaps, be led astray by our blind confidence in each -other's prudence." -"How can you for an instant entertain so unworthy a thought, -dear Valentine? Have I not, from the first blessed hour of -our acquaintance, schooled all my words and actions to your -sentiments and ideas? And you have, I am sure, the fullest -confidence in my honor. When you spoke to me of experiencing -a vague and indefinite sense of coming danger, I placed -myself blindly and devotedly at your service, asking no -other reward than the pleasure of being useful to you and -have I ever since, by word or look, given you cause of -regret for having selected me from the numbers that would -willingly have sacrificed their lives for you? You told me, -my dear Valentine, that you were engaged to M. d'Epinay, and -that your father was resolved upon completing the match, and -that from his will there was no appeal, as M. de Villefort -was never known to change a determination once formed. I -kept in the background, as you wished, and waited, not for -the decision of your heart or my own, but hoping that -providence would graciously interpose in our behalf, and -order events in our favor. But what cared I for delays or -difficulties, Valentine, as long as you confessed that you -loved me, and took pity on me? If you will only repeat that -avowal now and then, I can endure anything." -"Ah, Maximilian, that is the very thing that makes you so -bold, and which renders me at once so happy and unhappy, -that I frequently ask myself whether it is better for me to -endure the harshness of my motherinlaw, and her blind -preference for her own child, or to be, as I now am, -insensible to any pleasure save such as I find in these -meetings, so fraught with danger to both." -"I will not admit that word," returned the young man "it is -at once cruel and unjust. Is it possible to find a more -submissive slave than myself? You have permitted me to -converse with you from time to time, Valentine, but -forbidden my ever following you in your walks or elsewhere -have I not obeyed? And since I found means to enter this -enclosure to exchange a few words with you through this gate -to be close to you without really seeing you have I -ever asked so much as to touch the hem of your gown or tried -to pass this barrier which is but a trifle to one of my -youth and strength? Never has a complaint or a murmur -escaped me. I have been bound by my promises as rigidly as -any knight of olden times. Come, come, dearest Valentine, -confess that what I say is true, lest I be tempted to call -you unjust." -"It is true," said Valentine, as she passed the end of her -slender fingers through a small opening in the planks, and -permitted Maximilian to press his lips to them, "and you are -a true and faithful friend but still you acted from motives -of selfinterest, my dear Maximilian, for you well knew that -from the moment in which you had manifested an opposite -spirit all would have been ended between us. You promised to -bestow on me the friendly affection of a brother. For I have -no friend but yourself upon earth, who am neglected and -forgotten by my father, harassed and persecuted by my -motherinlaw, and left to the sole companionship of a -paralyzed and speechless old man, whose withered hand can no -longer press mine, and who can speak to me with the eye -alone, although there still lingers in his heart the warmest -tenderness for his poor grandchild. Oh, how bitter a fate is -mine, to serve either as a victim or an enemy to all who are -stronger than myself, while my only friend and supporter is -a living corpse Indeed, indeed, Maximilian, I am very -miserable, and if you love me it must be out of pity." -"Valentine," replied the young man, deeply affected, "I will -not say you are all I love in the world, for I dearly prize -my sister and brotherinlaw but my affection for them is -calm and tranquil, in no manner resembling what I feel for -you. When I think of you my heart beats fast, the blood -burns in my veins, and I can hardly breathe but I solemnly -promise you to restrain all this ardor, this fervor and -intensity of feeling, until you yourself shall require me to -render them available in serving or assisting you. M. Franz -is not expected to return home for a year to come, I am -told in that time many favorable and unforeseen chances may -befriend us. Let us, then, hope for the best hope is so -sweet a comforter. Meanwhile, Valentine, while reproaching -me with selfishness, think a little what you have been to me -the beautiful but cold resemblance of a marble Venus. -What promise of future reward have you made me for all the -submission and obedience I have evinced? none whatever. -What granted me? scarcely more. You tell me of M. Franz -d'Epinay, your betrothed lover, and you shrink from the idea -of being his wife but tell me, Valentine, is there no other -sorrow in your heart? You see me devoted to you, body and -soul, my life and each warm drop that circles round my heart -are consecrated to your service you know full well that my -existence is bound up in yours that were I to lose you I -would not outlive the hour of such crushing misery yet you -speak with calmness of the prospect of your being the wife -of another Oh, Valentine, were I in your place, and did I -feel conscious, as you do, of being worshipped, adored, with -such a love as mine, a hundred times at least should I have -passed my hand between these iron bars, and said, "Take this -hand, dearest Maximilian, and believe that, living or dead, -I am yours yours only, and forever'" The poor girl made -no reply, but her lover could plainly hear her sobs and -tears. A rapid change took place in the young man's -feelings. "Dearest, dearest Valentine," exclaimed he, -"forgive me if I have offended you, and forget the words I -spoke if they have unwittingly caused you pain." -"No, Maximilian, I am not offended," answered she, "but do -you not see what a poor, helpless being I am, almost a -stranger and an outcast in my father's house, where even he -is seldom seen whose will has been thwarted, and spirits -broken, from the age of ten years, beneath the iron rod so -sternly held over me oppressed, mortified, and persecuted, -day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, no person has -cared for, even observed my sufferings, nor have I ever -breathed one word on the subject save to yourself. Outwardly -and in the eyes of the world, I am surrounded by kindness -and affection but the reverse is the case. The general -remark is, "Oh, it cannot be expected that one of so stern a -character as M. Villefort could lavish the tenderness some -fathers do on their daughters. What though she has lost her -own mother at a tender age, she has had the happiness to -find a second mother in Madame de Villefort.' The world, -however, is mistaken my father abandons me from utter -indifference, while my motherinlaw detests me with a -hatred so much the more terrible because it is veiled -beneath a continual smile." -"Hate you, sweet Valentine," exclaimed the young man "how -is it possible for any one to do that?" -"Alas," replied the weeping girl, "I am obliged to own that -my motherinlaw's aversion to me arises from a very natural -source her overweening love for her own child, my brother -Edward." -"But why should it?" -"I do not know but, though unwilling to introduce money -matters into our present conversation, I will just say this -much that her extreme dislike to me has its origin there -and I much fear she envies me the fortune I enjoy in right -of my mother, and which will be more than doubled at the -death of M. and Mme. de SaintMeran, whose sole heiress I -am. Madame de Villefort has nothing of her own, and hates me -for being so richly endowed. Alas, how gladly would I -exchange the half of this wealth for the happiness of at -least sharing my father's love. God knows, I would prefer -sacrificing the whole, so that it would obtain me a happy -and affectionate home." -"Poor Valentine" -"I seem to myself as though living a life of bondage, yet at -the same time am so conscious of my own weakness that I fear -to break the restraint in which I am held, lest I fall -utterly helpless. Then, too, my father is not a person whose -orders may be infringed with impunity protected as he is by -his high position and firmly established reputation for -talent and unswerving integrity, no one could oppose him he -is allpowerful even with the king he would crush you at a -word. Dear Maximilian, believe me when I assure you that if -I do not attempt to resist my father's commands it is more -on your account than my own." -"But why, Valentine, do you persist in anticipating the -worst, why picture so gloomy a future?" -"Because I judge it from the past." -"Still, consider that although I may not be, strictly -speaking, what is termed an illustrious match for you, I am, -for many reasons, not altogether so much beneath your -alliance. The days when such distinctions were so nicely -weighed and considered no longer exist in France, and the -first families of the monarchy have intermarried with those -of the empire. The aristocracy of the lance has allied -itself with the nobility of the cannon. Now I belong to this -lastnamed class and certainly my prospects of military -preferment are most encouraging as well as certain. My -fortune, though small, is free and unfettered, and the -memory of my late father is respected in our country, -Valentine, as that of the most upright and honorable -merchant of the city I say our country, because you were -born not far from Marseilles." -"Don't speak of Marseilles, I beg of you, Maximilian that -one word brings back my mother to my recollection my -angel mother, who died too soon for myself and all who knew -her but who, after watching over her child during the brief -period allotted to her in this world, now, I fondly hope, -watches from her home in heaven. Oh, if my mother were still -living, there would be nothing to fear, Maximilian, for I -would tell her that I loved you, and she would protect us." -"I fear, Valentine," replied the lover, "that were she -living I should never have had the happiness of knowing you -you would then have been too happy to have stooped from your -grandeur to bestow a thought on me." -"Now it is you who are unjust, Maximilian," cried Valentine -"but there is one thing I wish to know." -"And what is that?" inquired the young man, perceiving that -Valentine hesitated. -"Tell me truly, Maximilian, whether in former days, when our -fathers dwelt at Marseilles, there was ever any -misunderstanding between them?" -"Not that I am aware of," replied the young man, "unless, -indeed, any illfeeling might have arisen from their being -of opposite parties your father was, as you know, a -zealous partisan of the Bourbons, while mine was wholly -devoted to the emperor there could not possibly be any -other difference between them. But why do you ask?" -"I will tell you," replied the young girl, "for it is but -right you should know. Well, on the day when your -appointment as an officer of the Legion of honor was -announced in the papers, we were all sitting with my -grandfather, M. Noirtier M. Danglars was there also you -recollect M. Danglars, do you not, Maximilian, the banker, -whose horses ran away with my motherinlaw and little -brother, and very nearly killed them? While the rest of the -company were discussing the approaching marriage of -Mademoiselle Danglars, I was reading the paper to my -grandfather but when I came to the paragraph about you, -although I had done nothing else but read it over to myself -all the morning you know you had told me all about it the -previous evening, I felt so happy, and yet so nervous, at -the idea of speaking your name aloud, and before so many -people, that I really think I should have passed it over, -but for the fear that my doing so might create suspicions as -to the cause of my silence so I summoned up all my courage, -and read it as firmly and as steadily as I could." -"Dear Valentine" -"Well, would you believe it? directly my father caught the -sound of your name he turned round quite hastily, and, like -a poor silly thing, I was so persuaded that every one must -be as much affected as myself by the utterance of your name, -that I was not surprised to see my father start, and almost -tremble but I even thought though that surely must have -been a mistake that M. Danglars trembled too." -""Morrel, Morrel,' cried my father, "stop a bit' then -knitting his brows into a deep frown, he added, "surely this -cannot be one of the Morrel family who lived at Marseilles, -and gave us so much trouble from their violent Bonapartism -I mean about the year .' "Yes,' replied M. -Danglars, "I believe he is the son of the old shipowner.'" -"Indeed," answered Maximilian "and what did your father say -then, Valentine?" -"Oh, such a dreadful thing, that I don't dare to tell you." -"Always tell me everything," said Maximilian with a smile. -""Ah,' continued my father, still frowning, "their idolized -emperor treated these madmen as they deserved he called -them "food for powder,' which was precisely all they were -good for and I am delighted to see that the present -government have adopted this salutary principle with all its -pristine vigor if Algiers were good for nothing but to -furnish the means of carrying so admirable an idea into -practice, it would be an acquisition well worthy of -struggling to obtain. Though it certainly does cost France -somewhat dear to assert her rights in that uncivilized -country.'" -"Brutal politics, I must confess." said Maximilian "but -don't attach any serious importance, dear, to what your -father said. My father was not a bit behind yours in that -sort of talk. "Why,' said he, "does not the emperor, who has -devised so many clever and efficient modes of improving the -art of war, organize a regiment of lawyers, judges and legal -practitioners, sending them in the hottest fire the enemy -could maintain, and using them to save better men?' You see, -my dear, that for picturesque expression and generosity of -spirit there is not much to choose between the language of -either party. But what did M. Danglars say to this outburst -on the part of the procureur?" -"Oh, he laughed, and in that singular manner so peculiar to -himself halfmalicious, halfferocious he almost -immediately got up and took his leave then, for the first -time, I observed the agitation of my grandfather, and I must -tell you, Maximilian, that I am the only person capable of -discerning emotion in his paralyzed frame. And I suspected -that the conversation that had been carried on in his -presence for they always say and do what they like before -the dear old man, without the smallest regard for his -feelings had made a strong impression on his mind for, -naturally enough, it must have pained him to hear the -emperor he so devotedly loved and served spoken of in that -depreciating manner." -"The name of M. Noirtier," interposed Maximilian, "is -celebrated throughout Europe he was a statesman of high -standing, and you may or may not know, Valentine, that he -took a leading part in every Bonapartist conspiracy set on -foot during the restoration of the Bourbons." -"Oh, I have often heard whispers of things that seem to me -most strange the father a Bonapartist, the son a -Royalist what can have been the reason of so singular a -difference in parties and politics? But to resume my story -I turned towards my grandfather, as though to question him -as to the cause of his emotion he looked expressively at -the newspaper I had been reading. "What is the matter, dear -grandfather?' said I, "are you pleased?' He gave me a sign -in the affirmative. "With what my father said just now?' He -returned a sign in the negative. "Perhaps you liked what M. -Danglars said?' Another sign in the negative. "Oh, then, you -were glad to hear that M. Morrel I didn't dare to say -Maximilian had been made an officer of the Legion of -Honor?' He signified assent only think of the poor old -man's being so pleased to think that you, who were a perfect -stranger to him, had been made an officer of the Legion of -Honor Perhaps it was a mere whim on his part, for he is -falling, they say, into second childhood, but I love him for -showing so much interest in you." -"How singular," murmured Maximilian "your father hates me, -while your grandfather, on the contrary What strange -feelings are aroused by politics." -"Hush," cried Valentine, suddenly "some one is coming" -Maximilian leaped at one bound into his crop of lucerne, -which he began to pull up in the most ruthless way, under -the pretext of being occupied in weeding it. -"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle" exclaimed a voice from behind -the trees. "Madame is searching for you everywhere there is -a visitor in the drawingroom." -"A visitor?" inquired Valentine, much agitated "who is it?" -"Some grand personage a prince I believe they said the -Count of Monte Cristo." -"I will come directly," cried Valentine aloud. The name of -Monte Cristo sent an electric shock through the young man on -the other side of the iron gate, to whom Valentine's "I am -coming" was the customary signal of farewell. "Now, then," -said Maximilian, leaning on the handle of his spade, "I -would give a good deal to know how it comes about that the -Count of Monte Cristo is acquainted with M. de Villefort." -Chapter -Toxicology. -It was really the Count of Monte Cristo who had just arrived -at Madame de Villefort's for the purpose of returning the -procureur's visit, and at his name, as may be easily -imagined, the whole house was in confusion. Madame de -Villefort, who was alone in her drawingroom when the count -was announced, desired that her son might be brought thither -instantly to renew his thanks to the count and Edward, who -heard this great personage talked of for two whole days, -made all possible haste to come to him, not from obedience -to his mother, or out of any feeling of gratitude to the -count, but from sheer curiosity, and that some chance remark -might give him the opportunity for making one of the -impertinent speeches which made his mother say, "Oh, that -naughty child But I can't be severe with him, he is really -so bright." -After the usual civilities, the count inquired after M. de -Villefort. "My husband dines with the chancellor," replied -the young lady "he has just gone, and I am sure he'll be -exceedingly sorry not to have had the pleasure of seeing you -before he went." Two visitors who were there when the count -arrived, having gazed at him with all their eyes, retired -after that reasonable delay which politeness admits and -curiosity requires. "What is your sister Valentine doing?" -inquired Madame de Villefort of Edward "tell some one to -bid her come here, that I may have the honor of introducing -her to the count." -"You have a daughter, then, madame?" inquired the count -"very young, I presume?" -"The daughter of M. de Villefort by his first marriage," -replied the young wife, "a fine wellgrown girl." -"But melancholy," interrupted Master Edward, snatching the -feathers out of the tail of a splendid parroquet that was -screaming on its gilded perch, in order to make a plume for -his hat. Madame de Villefort merely cried, "Be still, -Edward" She then added, "This young madcap is, however, -very nearly right, and merely reechoes what he has heard me -say with pain a hundred times for Mademoiselle de Villefort -is, in spite of all we can do to rouse her, of a melancholy -disposition and taciturn habit, which frequently injure the -effect of her beauty. But what detains her? Go, Edward, and -see." -"Because they are looking for her where she is not to be -found." -"And where are they looking for her?" -"With grandpapa Noirtier." -"And do you think she is not there?" -"No, no, no, no, no, she is not there," replied Edward, -singing his words. -"And where is she, then? If you know, why don't you tell?" -"She is under the big chestnuttree," replied the spoiled -brat, as he gave, in spite of his mother's commands, live -flies to the parrot, which seemed keenly to relish such -fare. Madame de Villefort stretched out her hand to ring, -intending to direct her waitingmaid to the spot where she -would find Valentine, when the young lady herself entered -the apartment. She appeared much dejected and any person -who considered her attentively might have observed the -traces of recent tears in her eyes. -Valentine, whom we have in the rapid march of our narrative -presented to our readers without formally introducing her, -was a tall and graceful girl of nineteen, with bright -chestnut hair, deep blue eyes, and that reposeful air of -quiet distinction which characterized her mother. Her white -and slender fingers, her pearly neck, her cheeks tinted with -varying hues reminded one of the lovely Englishwomen who -have been so poetically compared in their manner to the -gracefulness of a swan. She entered the apartment, and -seeing near her stepmother the stranger of whom she had -already heard so much, saluted him without any girlish -awkwardness, or even lowering her eyes, and with an elegance -that redoubled the count's attention. He rose to return the -salutation. "Mademoiselle de Villefort, my daughterinlaw," -said Madame de Villefort to Monte Cristo, leaning back on -her sofa and motioning towards Valentine with her hand. "And -M. de Monte Cristo, King of China, Emperor of CochinChina," -said the young imp, looking slyly towards his sister. -Madame de Villefort at this really did turn pale, and was -very nearly angry with this household plague, who answered -to the name of Edward but the count, on the contrary, -smiled, and appeared to look at the boy complacently, which -caused the maternal heart to bound again with joy and -enthusiasm. -"But, madame," replied the count, continuing the -conversation, and looking by turns at Madame de Villefort -and Valentine, "have I not already had the honor of meeting -yourself and mademoiselle before? I could not help thinking -so just now the idea came over my mind, and as mademoiselle -entered the sight of her was an additional ray of light -thrown on a confused remembrance excuse the remark." -"I do not think it likely, sir Mademoiselle de Villefort is -not very fond of society, and we very seldom go out," said -the young lady. -"Then it was not in society that I met with mademoiselle or -yourself, madame, or this charming little merry boy. -Besides, the Parisian world is entirely unknown to me, for, -as I believe I told you, I have been in Paris but very few -days. No, but, perhaps, you will permit me to call to -mind stay" The Count placed his hand on his brow as if -to collect his thoughts. "No it was somewhere away -from here it was I do not know but it appears that -this recollection is connected with a lovely sky and some -religious fete mademoiselle was holding flowers in her -hand, the interesting boy was chasing a beautiful peacock in -a garden, and you, madame, were under the trellis of some -arbor. Pray come to my aid, madame do not these -circumstances appeal to your memory?" -"No, indeed," replied Madame de Villefort "and yet it -appears to me, sir, that if I had met you anywhere, the -recollection of you must have been imprinted on my memory." -"Perhaps the count saw us in Italy," said Valentine timidly. -"Yes, in Italy it was in Italy most probably," replied -Monte Cristo "you have travelled then in Italy, -mademoiselle?" -"Yes madame and I were there two years ago. The doctors, -anxious for my lungs, had prescribed the air of Naples. We -went by Bologna, Perugia, and Rome." -"Ah, yes true, mademoiselle," exclaimed Monte Cristo as -if this simple explanation was sufficient to revive the -recollection he sought. "It was at Perugia on Corpus Christi -Day, in the garden of the Hotel des Postes, when chance -brought us together you, Madame de Villefort, and her son -I now remember having had the honor of meeting you." -"I perfectly well remember Perugia, sir, and the Hotel des -Postes, and the festival of which you speak," said Madame de -Villefort, "but in vain do I tax my memory, of whose -treachery I am ashamed, for I really do not recall to mind -that I ever had the pleasure of seeing you before." -"It is strange, but neither do I recollect meeting with -you," observed Valentine, raising her beautiful eyes to the -count. -"But I remember it perfectly," interposed the darling -Edward. -"I will assist your memory, madame," continued the count -"the day had been burning hot you were waiting for horses, -which were delayed in consequence of the festival. -Mademoiselle was walking in the shade of the garden, and -your son disappeared in pursuit of the peacock." -"And I caught it, mamma, don't you remember?" interposed -Edward, "and I pulled three such beautiful feathers out of -his tail." -"You, madame, remained under the arbor do you not remember, -that while you were seated on a stone bench, and while, as I -told you, Mademoiselle de Villefort and your young son were -absent, you conversed for a considerable time with -somebody?" -"Yes, in truth, yes," answered the young lady, turning very -red, "I do remember conversing with a person wrapped in a -long woollen mantle he was a medical man, I think." -"Precisely so, madame this man was myself for a fortnight -I had been at that hotel, during which period I had cured my -valet de chambre of a fever, and my landlord of the -jaundice, so that I really acquired a reputation as a -skilful physician. We discoursed a long time, madame, on -different subjects of Perugino, of Raffaelle, of manners, -customs, of the famous aquatofana, of which they had told -you, I think you said, that certain individuals in Perugia -had preserved the secret." -"Yes, true," replied Madame de Villefort, somewhat uneasily, -"I remember now." -"I do not recollect now all the various subjects of which we -discoursed, madame," continued the count with perfect -calmness "but I perfectly remember that, falling into the -error which others had entertained respecting me, you -consulted me as to the health of Mademoiselle de Villefort." -"Yes, really, sir, you were in fact a medical man," said -Madame de Villefort, "since you had cured the sick." -"Moliere or Beaumarchais would reply to you, madame, that it -was precisely because I was not, that I had cured my -patients for myself, I am content to say to you that I have -studied chemistry and the natural sciences somewhat deeply, -but still only as an amateur, you understand." At this -moment the clock struck six. "It is six o'clock," said -Madame de Villefort, evidently agitated. "Valentine, will -you not go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?" -Valentine rose, and saluting the count, left the apartment -without speaking. -"Oh, madame," said the count, when Valentine had left the -room, "was it on my account that you sent Mademoiselle de -Villefort away?" -"By no means," replied the young lady quickly "but this is -the hour when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome meal -that sustains his pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, of -the deplorable condition of my husband's father?" -"Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me a -paralysis, I think." -"Alas, yes the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless the -mind alone is still active in this human machine, and that -is faint and flickering, like the light of a lamp about to -expire. But excuse me, sir, for talking of our domestic -misfortunes I interrupted you at the moment when you were -telling me that you were a skilful chemist." -"No, madame, I did not say as much as that," replied the -count with a smile "quite the contrary. I have studied -chemistry because, having determined to live in eastern -climates I have been desirous of following the example of -King Mithridates." -"Mithridates rex Ponticus," said the young scamp, as he tore -some beautiful portraits out of a splendid album, "the -individual who took cream in his cup of poison every morning -at breakfast." -"Edward, you naughty boy," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, -snatching the mutilated book from the urchin's grasp, "you -are positively past bearing you really disturb the -conversation go, leave us, and join your sister Valentine -in dear grandpapa Noirtier's room." -"The album," said Edward sulkily. -"What do you mean? the album" -"I want the album." -"How dare you tear out the drawings?" -"Oh, it amuses me." -"Go go at once." -"I won't go unless you give me the album," said the boy, -seating himself doggedly in an armchair, according to his -habit of never giving way. -"Take it, then, and pray disturb us no longer," said Madame -de Villefort, giving the album to Edward, who then went -towards the door, led by his mother. The count followed her -with his eyes. -"Let us see if she shuts the door after him," he muttered. -Madame de Villefort closed the door carefully after the -child, the count appearing not to notice her then casting a -scrutinizing glance around the chamber, the young wife -returned to her chair, in which she seated herself. "Allow -me to observe, madame," said the count, with that kind tone -he could assume so well, "you are really very severe with -that dear clever child." -"Oh, sometimes severity is quite necessary," replied Madame -de Villefort, with all a mother's real firmness. -"It was his Cornelius Nepos that Master Edward was repeating -when he referred to King Mithridates," continued the count, -"and you interrupted him in a quotation which proves that -his tutor has by no means neglected him, for your son is -really advanced for his years." -"The fact is, count," answered the mother, agreeably -flattered, "he has great aptitude, and learns all that is -set before him. He has but one fault, he is somewhat wilful -but really, on referring for the moment to what he said, do -you truly believe that Mithridates used these precautions, -and that these precautions were efficacious?" -"I think so, madame, because I myself have made use of them, -that I might not be poisoned at Naples, at Palermo, and at -Smyrna that is to say, on three several occasions when, -but for these precautions, I must have lost my life." -"And your precautions were successful?" -"Completely so." -"Yes, I remember now your mentioning to me at Perugia -something of this sort." -"Indeed?" said the count with an air of surprise, remarkably -well counterfeited "I really did not remember." -"I inquired of you if poisons acted equally, and with the -same effect, on men of the North as on men of the South and -you answered me that the cold and sluggish habits of the -North did not present the same aptitude as the rich and -energetic temperaments of the natives of the South." -"And that is the case," observed Monte Cristo. "I have seen -Russians devour, without being visibly inconvenienced, -vegetable substances which would infallibly have killed a -Neapolitan or an Arab." -"And you really believe the result would be still more sure -with us than in the East, and in the midst of our fogs and -rains a man would habituate himself more easily than in a -warm latitude to this progressive absorption of poison?" -"Certainly it being at the same time perfectly understood -that he should have been duly fortified against the poison -to which he had not been accustomed." -"Yes, I understand that and how would you habituate -yourself, for instance, or rather, how did you habituate -yourself to it?" -"Oh, very easily. Suppose you knew beforehand the poison -that would be made use of against you suppose the poison -was, for instance, brucine" -"Brucine is extracted from the false angostura is it not?" -inquired Madame de Villefort. -"Precisely, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but I perceive I -have not much to teach you. Allow me to compliment you on -your knowledge such learning is very rare among ladies." - Brucoea ferruginea. -"Oh, I am aware of that," said Madame de Villefort "but I -have a passion for the occult sciences, which speak to the -imagination like poetry, and are reducible to figures, like -an algebraic equation but go on, I beg of you what you say -interests me to the greatest degree." -"Well," replied Monte Cristo "suppose, then, that this -poison was brucine, and you were to take a milligramme the -first day, two milligrammes the second day, and so on. Well, -at the end of ten days you would have taken a centigramme, -at the end of twenty days, increasing another milligramme, -you would have taken three hundred centigrammes that is to -say, a dose which you would support without inconvenience, -and which would be very dangerous for any other person who -had not taken the same precautions as yourself. Well, then, -at the end of a month, when drinking water from the same -carafe, you would kill the person who drank with you, -without your perceiving, otherwise than from slight -inconvenience, that there was any poisonous substance -mingled with this water." -"Do you know any other counterpoisons?" -"I do not." -"I have often read, and read again, the history of -Mithridates," said Madame de Villefort in a tone of -reflection, "and had always considered it a fable." -"No, madame, contrary to most history, it is true but what -you tell me, madame, what you inquire of me, is not the -result of a chance query, for two years ago you asked me the -same questions, and said then, that for a very long time -this history of Mithridates had occupied your mind." -"True, sir. The two favorite studies of my youth were botany -and mineralogy, and subsequently, when I learned that the -use of simples frequently explained the whole history of a -people, and the entire life of individuals in the East, as -flowers betoken and symbolize a love affair, I have -regretted that I was not a man, that I might have been a -Flamel, a Fontana, or a Cabanis." -"And the more, madame," said Monte Cristo, "as the Orientals -do not confine themselves, as did Mithridates, to make a -cuirass of his poisons, but they also made them a dagger. -Science becomes, in their hands, not only a defensive -weapon, but still more frequently an offensive one the one -serves against all their physical sufferings, the other -against all their enemies. With opium, belladonna, brucaea, -snakewood, and the cherrylaurel, they put to sleep all who -stand in their way. There is not one of those women, -Egyptian, Turkish, or Greek, whom here you call "good -women,' who do not know how, by means of chemistry, to -stupefy a doctor, and in psychology to amaze a confessor." -"Really," said Madame de Villefort, whose eyes sparkled with -strange fire at this conversation. -"Oh, yes, indeed, madame," continued Monte Cristo, "the -secret dramas of the East begin with a love philtre and end -with a death potion begin with paradise and end with -hell. There are as many elixirs of every kind as there are -caprices and peculiarities in the physical and moral nature -of humanity and I will say further the art of these -chemists is capable with the utmost precision to accommodate -and proportion the remedy and the bane to yearnings for love -or desires for vengeance." -"But, sir," remarked the young woman, "these Eastern -societies, in the midst of which you have passed a portion -of your existence, are as fantastic as the tales that come -from their strange land. A man can easily be put out of the -way there, then it is, indeed, the Bagdad and Bassora of -the "Thousand and One Nights.' The sultans and viziers who -rule over society there, and who constitute what in France -we call the government, are really HarounalRaschids and -Giaffars, who not only pardon a poisoner, but even make him -a prime minister, if his crime has been an ingenious one, -and who, under such circumstances, have the whole story -written in letters of gold, to divert their hours of -idleness and ennui." -"By no means, madame the fanciful exists no longer in the -East. There, disguised under other names, and concealed -under other costumes, are police agents, magistrates, -attorneysgeneral, and bailiffs. They hang, behead, and -impale their criminals in the most agreeable possible -manner but some of these, like clever rogues, have -contrived to escape human justice, and succeed in their -fraudulent enterprises by cunning stratagems. Amongst us a -simpleton, possessed by the demon of hate or cupidity, who -has an enemy to destroy, or some near relation to dispose -of, goes straight to the grocer's or druggist's, gives a -false name, which leads more easily to his detection than -his real one, and under the pretext that the rats prevent -him from sleeping, purchases five or six grammes of arsenic -if he is really a cunning fellow, he goes to five or six -different druggists or grocers, and thereby becomes only -five or six times more easily traced then, when he has -acquired his specific, he administers duly to his enemy, or -near kinsman, a dose of arsenic which would make a mammoth -or mastodon burst, and which, without rhyme or reason, makes -his victim utter groans which alarm the entire neighborhood. -Then arrive a crowd of policemen and constables. They fetch -a doctor, who opens the dead body, and collects from the -entrails and stomach a quantity of arsenic in a spoon. Next -day a hundred newspapers relate the fact, with the names of -the victim and the murderer. The same evening the grocer or -grocers, druggist or druggists, come and say, "It was I who -sold the arsenic to the gentleman' and rather than not -recognize the guilty purchaser, they will recognize twenty. -Then the foolish criminal is taken, imprisoned, -interrogated, confronted, confounded, condemned, and cut off -by hemp or steel or if she be a woman of any consideration, -they lock her up for life. This is the way in which you -Northerns understand chemistry, madame. Desrues was, -however, I must confess, more skilful." -"What would you have, sir?" said the lady, laughing "we do -what we can. All the world has not the secret of the Medicis -or the Borgias." -"Now," replied the count, shrugging his shoulders, "shall I -tell you the cause of all these stupidities? It is because, -at your theatres, by what at least I could judge by reading -the pieces they play, they see persons swallow the contents -of a phial, or suck the button of a ring, and fall dead -instantly. Five minutes afterwards the curtain falls, and -the spectators depart. They are ignorant of the consequences -of the murder they see neither the police commissary with -his badge of office, nor the corporal with his four men and -so the poor fools believe that the whole thing is as easy as -lying. But go a little way from France go either to -Aleppo or Cairo, or only to Naples or Rome, and you will see -people passing by you in the streets people erect, -smiling, and freshcolored, of whom Asmodeus, if you were -holding on by the skirt of his mantle, would say, "That man -was poisoned three weeks ago he will be a dead man in a -month.'" -"Then," remarked Madame de Villefort, "they have again -discovered the secret of the famous aquatofana that they -said was lost at Perugia." -"Ah, but madame, does mankind ever lose anything? The arts -change about and make a tour of the world things take a -different name, and the vulgar do not follow them that is -all but there is always the same result. Poisons act -particularly on some organ or another one on the stomach, -another on the brain, another on the intestines. Well, the -poison brings on a cough, the cough an inflammation of the -lungs, or some other complaint catalogued in the book of -science, which, however, by no means precludes it from being -decidedly mortal and if it were not, would be sure to -become so, thanks to the remedies applied by foolish -doctors, who are generally bad chemists, and which will act -in favor of or against the malady, as you please and then -there is a human being killed according to all the rules of -art and skill, and of whom justice learns nothing, as was -said by a terrible chemist of my acquaintance, the worthy -Abbe Adelmonte of Taormina, in Sicily, who has studied these -national phenomena very profoundly." -"It is quite frightful, but deeply interesting," said the -young lady, motionless with attention. "I thought, I must -confess, that these tales, were inventions of the Middle -Ages." -"Yes, no doubt, but improved upon by ours. What is the use -of time, rewards of merit, medals, crosses, Monthyon prizes, -if they do not lead society towards more complete -perfection? Yet man will never be perfect until he learns to -create and destroy he does know how to destroy, and that is -half the battle." -"So," added Madame de Villefort, constantly returning to her -object, "the poisons of the Borgias, the Medicis, the Renes, -the Ruggieris, and later, probably, that of Baron de Trenck, -whose story has been so misused by modern drama and romance" -"Were objects of art, madame, and nothing more," replied the -count. "Do you suppose that the real savant addresses -himself stupidly to the mere individual? By no means. -Science loves eccentricities, leaps and bounds, trials of -strength, fancies, if I may be allowed so to term them. -Thus, for instance, the excellent Abbe Adelmonte, of whom I -spoke just now, made in this way some marvellous -experiments." -"Really?" -"Yes I will mention one to you. He had a remarkably fine -garden, full of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. From amongst -these vegetables he selected the most simple a cabbage, -for instance. For three days he watered this cabbage with a -distillation of arsenic on the third, the cabbage began to -droop and turn yellow. At that moment he cut it. In the eyes -of everybody it seemed fit for table, and preserved its -wholesome appearance. It was only poisoned to the Abbe -Adelmonte. He then took the cabbage to the room where he had -rabbits for the Abbe Adelmonte had a collection of -rabbits, cats, and guineapigs, fully as fine as his -collection of vegetables, flowers, and fruit. Well, the Abbe -Adelmonte took a rabbit, and made it eat a leaf of the -cabbage. The rabbit died. What magistrate would find, or -even venture to insinuate, anything against this? What -procureur has ever ventured to draw up an accusation against -M. Magendie or M. Flourens, in consequence of the rabbits, -cats, and guineapigs they have killed? not one. So, -then, the rabbit dies, and justice takes no notice. This -rabbit dead, the Abbe Adelmonte has its entrails taken out -by his cook and thrown on the dunghill on this dunghill is -a hen, who, pecking these intestines, is in her turn taken -ill, and dies next day. At the moment when she is struggling -in the convulsions of death, a vulture is flying by there -are a good many vultures in Adelmonte's country this bird -darts on the dead fowl, and carries it away to a rock, where -it dines off its prey. Three days afterwards, this poor -vulture, which has been very much indisposed since that -dinner, suddenly feels very giddy while flying aloft in the -clouds, and falls heavily into a fishpond. The pike, eels, -and carp eat greedily always, as everybody knows well, -they feast on the vulture. Now suppose that next day, one of -these eels, or pike, or carp, poisoned at the fourth remove, -is served up at your table. Well, then, your guest will be -poisoned at the fifth remove, and die, at the end of eight -or ten days, of pains in the intestines, sickness, or -abscess of the pylorus. The doctors open the body and say -with an air of profound learning, "The subject has died of a -tumor on the liver, or of typhoid fever'" -"But," remarked Madame de Villefort, "all these -circumstances which you link thus to one another may be -broken by the least accident the vulture may not see the -fowl, or may fall a hundred yards from the fishpond." -"Ah, that is where the art comes in. To be a great chemist -in the East, one must direct chance and this is to be -achieved." Madame de Villefort was in deep thought, yet -listened attentively. "But," she exclaimed, suddenly, -"arsenic is indelible, indestructible in whatsoever way it -is absorbed, it will be found again in the body of the -victim from the moment when it has been taken in sufficient -quantity to cause death." -"Precisely so," cried Monte Cristo "precisely so and -this is what I said to my worthy Adelmonte. He reflected, -smiled, and replied to me by a Sicilian proverb, which I -believe is also a French proverb, "My son, the world was not -made in a day but in seven. Return on Sunday.' On the -Sunday following I did return to him. Instead of having -watered his cabbage with arsenic, he had watered it this -time with a solution of salts, having their basis in -strychnine, strychnos colubrina, as the learned term it. -Now, the cabbage had not the slightest appearance of disease -in the world, and the rabbit had not the smallest distrust -yet, five minutes afterwards, the rabbit was dead. The fowl -pecked at the rabbit, and the next day was a dead hen. This -time we were the vultures so we opened the bird, and this -time all special symptoms had disappeared, there were only -general symptoms. There was no peculiar indication in any -organ an excitement of the nervous system that was it -a case of cerebral congestion nothing more. The fowl had -not been poisoned she had died of apoplexy. Apoplexy is a -rare disease among fowls, I believe, but very common among -men." Madame de Villefort appeared more and more thoughtful. -"It is very fortunate," she observed, "that such substances -could only be prepared by chemists otherwise, all the world -would be poisoning each other." -"By chemists and persons who have a taste for chemistry," -said Monte Cristo carelessly. -"And then," said Madame de Villefort, endeavoring by a -struggle, and with effort, to get away from her thoughts, -"however skilfully it is prepared, crime is always crime, -and if it avoid human scrutiny, it does not escape the eye -of God. The Orientals are stronger than we are in cases of -conscience, and, very prudently, have no hell that is the -point." -"Really, madame, this is a scruple which naturally must -occur to a pure mind like yours, but which would easily -yield before sound reasoning. The bad side of human thought -will always be defined by the paradox of Jean Jacques -Rousseau, you remember, the mandarin who is killed -five hundred leagues off by raising the tip of the finger. -Man's whole life passes in doing these things, and his -intellect is exhausted by reflecting on them. You will find -very few persons who will go and brutally thrust a knife in -the heart of a fellowcreature, or will administer to him, -in order to remove him from the surface of the globe on -which we move with life and animation, that quantity of -arsenic of which we just now talked. Such a thing is really -out of rule eccentric or stupid. To attain such a point, -the blood must be heated to thirtysix degrees, the pulse -be, at least, at ninety, and the feelings excited beyond the -ordinary limit. But suppose one pass, as is permissible in -philology, from the word itself to its softened synonym, -then, instead of committing an ignoble assassination you -make an "elimination' you merely and simply remove from -your path the individual who is in your way, and that -without shock or violence, without the display of the -sufferings which, in the case of becoming a punishment, make -a martyr of the victim, and a butcher, in every sense of the -word, of him who inflicts them. Then there will be no blood, -no groans, no convulsions, and above all, no consciousness -of that horrid and compromising moment of accomplishing the -act, then one escapes the clutch of the human law, which -says, "Do not disturb society' This is the mode in which -they manage these things, and succeed in Eastern climes, -where there are grave and phlegmatic persons who care very -little for the questions of time in conjunctures of -importance." -"Yet conscience remains," remarked Madame de Villefort in an -agitated voice, and with a stifled sigh. -"Yes," answered Monte Cristo "happily, yes, conscience does -remain and if it did not, how wretched we should be After -every action requiring exertion, it is conscience that saves -us, for it supplies us with a thousand good excuses, of -which we alone are judges and these reasons, howsoever -excellent in producing sleep, would avail us but very little -before a tribunal, when we were tried for our lives. Thus -Richard III., for instance, was marvellously served by his -conscience after the putting away of the two children of -Edward IV. in fact, he could say, "These two children of a -cruel and persecuting king, who have inherited the vices of -their father, which I alone could perceive in their juvenile -propensities these two children are impediments in my way -of promoting the happiness of the English people, whose -unhappiness they the children would infallibly have -caused.' Thus was Lady Macbeth served by her conscience, -when she sought to give her son, and not her husband -whatever Shakespeare may say, a throne. Ah, maternal love -is a great virtue, a powerful motive so powerful that it -excuses a multitude of things, even if, after Duncan's -death, Lady Macbeth had been at all pricked by her -conscience." -Madame de Villefort listened with avidity to these appalling -maxims and horrible paradoxes, delivered by the count with -that ironical simplicity which was peculiar to him. After a -moment's silence, the lady inquired, "Do you know, my dear -count," she said, "that you are a very terrible reasoner, -and that you look at the world through a somewhat -distempered medium? Have you really measured the world by -scrutinies, or through alembics and crucibles? For you must -indeed be a great chemist, and the elixir you administered -to my son, which recalled him to life almost -instantaneously" -"Oh, do not place any reliance on that, madame one drop of -that elixir sufficed to recall life to a dying child, but -three drops would have impelled the blood into his lungs in -such a way as to have produced most violent palpitations -six would have suspended his respiration, and caused syncope -more serious than that in which he was ten would have -destroyed him. You know, madame, how suddenly I snatched him -from those phials which he so imprudently touched?" -"Is it then so terrible a poison?" -"Oh, no. In the first place, let us agree that the word -poison does not exist, because in medicine use is made of -the most violent poisons, which become, according as they -are employed, most salutary remedies." -"What, then, is it?" -"A skilful preparation of my friend's the worthy Abbe -Adelmonte, who taught me the use of it." -"Oh," observed Madame de Villefort, "it must be an admirable -antispasmodic." -"Perfect, madame, as you have seen," replied the count "and -I frequently make use of it with all possible prudence -though, be it observed," he added with a smile of -intelligence. -"Most assuredly," responded Madame de Villefort in the same -tone. "As for me, so nervous, and so subject to fainting -fits, I should require a Doctor Adelmonte to invent for me -some means of breathing freely and tranquillizing my mind, -in the fear I have of dying some fine day of suffocation. In -the meanwhile, as the thing is difficult to find in France, -and your abbe is not probably disposed to make a journey to -Paris on my account, I must continue to use Monsieur -Planche's antispasmodics and mint and Hoffman's drops are -among my favorite remedies. Here are some lozenges which I -have made up on purpose they are compounded doubly strong." -Monte Cristo opened the tortoiseshell box, which the lady -presented to him, and inhaled the odor of the lozenges with -the air of an amateur who thoroughly appreciated their -composition. "They are indeed exquisite," he said "but as -they are necessarily submitted to the process of deglutition -a function which it is frequently impossible for a -fainting person to accomplish I prefer my own specific." -"Undoubtedly, and so should I prefer it, after the effects I -have seen produced but of course it is a secret, and I am -not so indiscreet as to ask it of you." -"But I," said Monte Cristo, rising as he spoke "I am -gallant enough to offer it you." -"How kind you are." -"Only remember one thing a small dose is a remedy, a -large one is poison. One drop will restore life, as you have -seen five or six will inevitably kill, and in a way the -more terrible inasmuch as, poured into a glass of wine, it -would not in the slightest degree affect its flavor. But I -say no more, madame it is really as if I were prescribing -for you." The clock struck halfpast six, and a lady was -announced, a friend of Madame de Villefort, who came to dine -with her. -"If I had had the honor of seeing you for the third or -fourth time, count, instead of only for the second," said -Madame de Villefort "if I had had the honor of being your -friend, instead of only having the happiness of being under -an obligation to you, I should insist on detaining you to -dinner, and not allow myself to be daunted by a first -refusal." -"A thousand thanks, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but I -have an engagement which I cannot break. I have promised to -escort to the Academie a Greek princess of my acquaintance -who has never seen your grand opera, and who relies on me to -conduct her thither." -"Adieu, then, sir, and do not forget the prescription." -"Ah, in truth, madame, to do that I must forget the hour's -conversation I have had with you, which is indeed -impossible." Monte Cristo bowed, and left the house. Madame -de Villefort remained immersed in thought. "He is a very -strange man," she said, "and in my opinion is himself the -Adelmonte he talks about." As to Monte Cristo the result had -surpassed his utmost expectations. "Good," said he, as he -went away "this is a fruitful soil, and I feel certain that -the seed sown will not be cast on barren ground." Next -morning, faithful to his promise, he sent the prescription -requested. -Chapter -Robert le Diable. -The pretext of an opera engagement was so much the more -feasible, as there chanced to be on that very night a more -than ordinary attraction at the Academie Royale. Levasseur, -who had been suffering under severe illness, made his -reappearance in the character of Bertrand, and, as usual, -the announcement of the most admired production of the -favorite composer of the day had attracted a brilliant and -fashionable audience. Morcerf, like most other young men of -rank and fortune, had his orchestra stall, with the -certainty of always finding a seat in at least a dozen of -the principal boxes occupied by persons of his acquaintance -he had, moreover, his right of entry into the omnibus box. -ChateauRenaud rented a stall beside his own, while -Beauchamp, as a journalist, had unlimited range all over the -theatre. It happened that on this particular night the -minister's box was placed at the disposal of Lucien Debray, -who offered it to the Comte de Morcerf, who again, upon his -mother's rejection of it, sent it to Danglars, with an -intimation that he should probably do himself the honor of -joining the baroness and her daughter during the evening, in -the event of their accepting the box in question. The ladies -received the offer with too much pleasure to dream of a -refusal. To no class of persons is the presentation of a -gratuitous operabox more acceptable than to the wealthy -millionaire, who still hugs economy while boasting of -carrying a king's ransom in his waistcoat pocket. -Danglars had, however, protested against showing himself in -a ministerial box, declaring that his political principles, -and his parliamentary position as member of the opposition -party would not permit him so to commit himself the -baroness had, therefore, despatched a note to Lucien Debray, -bidding him call for them, it being wholly impossible for -her to go alone with Eugenie to the opera. There is no -gainsaying the fact that a very unfavorable construction -would have been put upon the circumstance if the two women -had gone without escort, while the addition of a third, in -the person of her mother's admitted lover, enabled -Mademoiselle Danglars to defy malice and illnature. One -must take the world as one finds it. -The curtain rose, as usual, to an almost empty house, it -being one of the absurdities of Parisian fashion never to -appear at the opera until after the beginning of the -performance, so that the first act is generally played -without the slightest attention being paid to it, that part -of the audience already assembled being too much occupied in -observing the fresh arrivals, while nothing is heard but the -noise of opening and shutting doors, and the buzz of -conversation. "Surely," said Albert, as the door of a box on -the first circle opened, "that must be the Countess G." -"And who is the Countess G ?" inquired ChateauRenaud. -"What a question Now, do you know, baron, I have a great -mind to pick a quarrel with you for asking it as if all the -world did not know who the Countess G was." -"Ah, to be sure," replied ChateauRenaud "the lovely -Venetian, is it not?" -"Herself." At this moment the countess perceived Albert, and -returned his salutation with a smile. "You know her, it -seems?" said ChateauRenaud. -"Franz introduced me to her at Rome," replied Albert. -"Well, then, will you do as much for me in Paris as Franz -did for you in Rome?" -"With pleasure." -There was a cry of "Shut up" from the audience. This -manifestation on the part of the spectators of their wish to -be allowed to hear the music, produced not the slightest -effect on the two young men, who continued their -conversation. "The countess was present at the races in the -ChampdeMars," said ChateauRenaud. -"Today?" -"Yes." -"Bless me, I quite forgot the races. Did you bet?" -"Oh, merely a paltry fifty louis." -"And who was the winner?" -"Nautilus. I staked on him." -"But there were three races, were there not?" -"Yes there was the prize given by the Jockey Club a gold -cup, you know and a very singular circumstance occurred -about that race." -"What was it?" -"Oh, shut up" again interposed some of the audience. -"Why, it was won by a horse and rider utterly unknown on the -course." -"Is that possible?" -"True as day. The fact was, nobody had observed a horse -entered by the name of Vampa, or that of a jockey styled -Job, when, at the last moment, a splendid roan, mounted by a -jockey about as big as your fist, presented themselves at -the startingpost. They were obliged to stuff at least -twenty pounds weight of shot in the small rider's pockets, -to make him weight but with all that he outstripped Ariel -and Barbare, against whom he ran, by at least three whole -lengths." -"And was it not found out at last to whom the horse and -jockey belonged?" -"No." -"You say that the horse was entered under the name of -Vampa?" -"Exactly that was the title." -"Then," answered Albert, "I am better informed than you are, -and know who the owner of that horse was." -"Shut up, there" cried the pit in chorus. And this time the -tone and manner in which the command was given, betokened -such growing hostility that the two young men perceived, for -the first time, that the mandate was addressed to them. -Leisurely turning round, they calmly scrutinized the various -countenances around them, as though demanding some one -person who would take upon himself the responsibility of -what they deemed excessive impertinence but as no one -responded to the challenge, the friends turned again to the -front of the theatre, and affected to busy themselves with -the stage. At this moment the door of the minister's box -opened, and Madame Danglars, accompanied by her daughter, -entered, escorted by Lucien Debray, who assiduously -conducted them to their seats. -"Ha, ha," said ChateauRenaud, "here comes some friends of -yours, viscount What are you looking at there? don't you -see they are trying to catch your eye?" Albert turned round, -just in time to receive a gracious wave of the fan from the -baroness as for Mademoiselle Eugenie, she scarcely -vouchsafed to waste the glances of her large black eyes even -upon the business of the stage. "I tell you what, my dear -fellow," said ChateauRenaud, "I cannot imagine what -objection you can possibly have to Mademoiselle Danglars -that is, setting aside her want of ancestry and somewhat -inferior rank, which by the way I don't think you care very -much about. Now, barring all that, I mean to say she is a -deuced fine girl" -"Handsome, certainly," replied Albert, "but not to my taste, -which I confess, inclines to something softer, gentler, and -more feminine." -"Ah, well," exclaimed ChateauRenaud, who because he had -seen his thirtieth summer fancied himself duly warranted in -assuming a sort of paternal air with his more youthful -friend, "you young people are never satisfied why, what -would you have more? your parents have chosen you a bride -built on the model of Diana, the huntress, and yet you are -not content." -"No, for that very resemblance affrights me I should have -liked something more in the manner of the Venus of Milo or -Capua but this chaseloving Diana continually surrounded by -her nymphs gives me a sort of alarm lest she should some day -bring on me the fate of Actaeon." -And, indeed, it required but one glance at Mademoiselle -Danglars to comprehend the justness of Morcerf's remark -she was beautiful, but her beauty was of too marked and -decided a character to please a fastidious taste her hair -was raven black, but its natural waves seemed somewhat -rebellious her eyes, of the same color as her hair, were -surmounted by wellarched brows, whose great defect, -however, consisted in an almost habitual frown, while her -whole physiognomy wore that expression of firmness and -decision so little in accordance with the gentler attributes -of her sex her nose was precisely what a sculptor would -have chosen for a chiselled Juno. Her mouth, which might -have been found fault with as too large, displayed teeth of -pearly whiteness, rendered still more conspicuous by the -brilliant carmine of her lips, contrasting vividly with her -naturally pale complexion. But that which completed the -almost masculine look Morcerf found so little to his taste, -was a dark mole, of much larger dimensions than these freaks -of nature generally are, placed just at the corner of her -mouth and the effect tended to increase the expression of -selfdependence that characterized her countenance. The rest -of Mademoiselle Eugenie's person was in perfect keeping with -the head just described she, indeed, reminded one of Diana, -as ChateauRenaud observed, but her bearing was more haughty -and resolute. As regarded her attainments, the only fault to -be found with them was the same that a fastidious -connoisseur might have found with her beauty, that they were -somewhat too erudite and masculine for so young a person. -She was a perfect linguist, a firstrate artist, wrote -poetry, and composed music to the study of the latter she -professed to be entirely devoted, following it with an -indefatigable perseverance, assisted by a schoolfellow, a -young woman without fortune whose talent promised to develop -into remarkable powers as a singer. It was rumored that she -was an object of almost paternal interest to one of the -principal composers of the day, who excited her to spare no -pains in the cultivation of her voice, which might hereafter -prove a source of wealth and independence. But this counsel -effectually decided Mademoiselle Danglars never to commit -herself by being seen in public with one destined for a -theatrical life and acting upon this principle, the -banker's daughter, though perfectly willing to allow -Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly that was the name of the -young virtuosa to practice with her through the day, took -especial care not to be seen in her company. Still, though -not actually received at the Hotel Danglars in the light of -an acknowledged friend, Louise was treated with far more -kindness and consideration than is usually bestowed on a -governess. -The curtain fell almost immediately after the entrance of -Madame Danglars into her box, the band quitted the orchestra -for the accustomed halfhour's interval allowed between the -acts, and the audience were left at liberty to promenade the -salon or lobbies, or to pay and receive visits in their -respective boxes. Morcerf and ChateauRenaud were amongst -the first to avail themselves of this permission. For an -instant the idea struck Madame Danglars that this eagerness -on the part of the young viscount arose from his impatience -to join her party, and she whispered her expectations to her -daughter, that Albert was hurrying to pay his respects to -them. Mademoiselle Eugenie, however, merely returned a -dissenting movement of the head, while, with a cold smile, -she directed the attention of her mother to an opposite box -on the first circle, in which sat the Countess G , and -where Morcerf had just made his appearance. "So we meet -again, my travelling friend, do we?" cried the countess, -extending her hand to him with all the warmth and cordiality -of an old acquaintance "it was really very good of you to -recognize me so quickly, and still more so to bestow your -first visit on me." -"Be assured," replied Albert, "that if I had been aware of -your arrival in Paris, and had known your address, I should -have paid my respects to you before this. Allow me to -introduce my friend, Baron de ChateauRenaud, one of the few -true gentlemen now to be found in France, and from whom I -have just learned that you were a spectator of the races in -the ChampdeMars, yesterday." ChateauRenaud bowed to the -countess. -"So you were at the races, baron?" inquired the countess -eagerly. -"Yes, madame." -"Well, then," pursued Madame G with considerable -animation, "you can probably tell me who won the Jockey Club -stakes?" -"I am sorry to say I cannot," replied the baron "and I was -just asking the same question of Albert." -"Are you very anxious to know, countess?" asked Albert. -"To know what?" -"The name of the owner of the winning horse?" -"Excessively only imagine but do tell me, viscount, -whether you really are acquainted with it or no?" -"I beg your pardon, madame, but you were about to relate -some story, were you not? You said, "only imagine,' and -then paused. Pray continue." -"Well, then, listen. You must know I felt so interested in -the splendid roan horse, with his elegant little rider, so -tastefully dressed in a pink satin jacket and cap, that I -could not help praying for their success with as much -earnestness as though the half of my fortune were at stake -and when I saw them outstrip all the others, and come to the -winningpost in such gallant style, I actually clapped my -hands with joy. Imagine my surprise, when, upon returning -home, the first object I met on the staircase was the -identical jockey in the pink jacket I concluded that, by -some singular chance, the owner of the winning horse must -live in the same hotel as myself but, as I entered my -apartments, I beheld the very gold cup awarded as a prize to -the unknown horse and rider. Inside the cup was a small -piece of paper, on which were written these words "From -Lord Ruthven to Countess G .'" -"Precisely I was sure of it," said Morcerf. -"Sure of what?" -"That the owner of the horse was Lord Ruthven himself." -"What Lord Ruthven do you mean?" -"Why, our Lord Ruthven the Vampire of the Salle -Argentino" -"Is it possible?" exclaimed the countess "is he here in -Paris?" -"To be sure, why not?" -"And you visit him? meet him at your own house and -elsewhere?" -"I assure you he is my most intimate friend, and M. de -ChateauRenaud has also the honor of his acquaintance." -"But why are you so sure of his being the winner of the -Jockey Club prize?" -"Was not the winning horse entered by the name of Vampa?" -"What of that?" -"Why, do you not recollect the name of the celebrated bandit -by whom I was made prisoner?" -"Oh, yes." -"And from whose hands the count extricated me in so -wonderful a manner?" -"To be sure, I remember it all now." -"He called himself Vampa. You see, it's evident where the -count got the name." -"But what could have been his motive for sending the cup to -me?" -"In the first place, because I had spoken much of you to -him, as you may believe and in the second, because he -delighted to see a countrywoman take so lively an interest -in his success." -"I trust and hope you never repeated to the count all the -foolish remarks we used to make about him?" -"I should not like to affirm upon oath that I have not. -Besides, his presenting you the cup under the name of Lord -Ruthven" -"Oh, but that is dreadful Why, the man must owe me a -fearful grudge." -"Does his action appear like that of an enemy?" -"No certainly not." -"Well, then" -"And so he is in Paris?" -"Yes." -"And what effect does he produce?" -"Why," said Albert, "he was talked about for a week then -the coronation of the queen of England took place, followed -by the theft of Mademoiselle Mars's diamonds and so people -talked of something else." -"My good fellow," said ChateauRenaud, "the count is your -friend and you treat him accordingly. Do not believe what -Albert is telling you, countess so far from the sensation -excited in the Parisian circles by the appearance of the -Count of Monte Cristo having abated, I take upon myself to -declare that it is as strong as ever. His first astounding -act upon coming amongst us was to present a pair of horses, -worth , francs, to Madame Danglars his second, the -almost miraculous preservation of Madame de Villefort's -life now it seems that he has carried off the prize awarded -by the Jockey Club. I therefore maintain, in spite of -Morcerf, that not only is the count the object of interest -at this present moment, but also that he will continue to be -so for a month longer if he pleases to exhibit an -eccentricity of conduct which, after all, may be his -ordinary mode of existence." -"Perhaps you are right," said Morcerf "meanwhile, who is in -the Russian ambassador's box?" -"Which box do you mean?" asked the countess. -"The one between the pillars on the first tier it seems -to have been fitted up entirely afresh." -"Did you observe any one during the first act?" asked -ChateauRenaud. -"Where?" -"In that box." -"No," replied the countess, "it was certainly empty during -the first act" then, resuming the subject of their previous -conversation, she said, "And so you really believe it was -your mysterious Count of Monte Cristo that gained the -prize?" -"I am sure of it." -"And who afterwards sent the cup to me?" -"Undoubtedly." -"But I don't know him," said the countess "I have a great -mind to return it." -"Do no such thing, I beg of you he would only send you -another, formed of a magnificent sapphire, or hollowed out -of a gigantic ruby. It is his way, and you must take him as -you find him." At this moment the bell rang to announce the -drawing up of the curtain for the second act. Albert rose to -return to his place. "Shall I see you again?" asked the -countess. "At the end of the next act, with your permission, -I will come and inquire whether there is anything I can do -for you in Paris?" -"Pray take notice," said the countess, "that my present -residence is Rue de Rivoli, and that I am at home to my -friends every Saturday evening. So now, you are both -forewarned." The young men bowed, and quitted the box. Upon -reaching their stalls, they found the whole of the audience -in the parterre standing up and directing their gaze towards -the box formerly possessed by the Russian ambassador. A man -of from thirtyfive to forty years of age, dressed in deep -black, had just entered, accompanied by a young woman -dressed after the Eastern style. The lady was surpassingly -beautiful, while the rich magnificence of her attire drew -all eyes upon her. "Hullo," said Albert "it is Monte Cristo -and his Greek" -The strangers were, indeed, no other than the count and -Haidee. In a few moments the young girl had attracted the -attention of the whole house, and even the occupants of the -boxes leaned forward to scrutinize her magnificent diamonds. -The second act passed away during one continued buzz of -voices one deep whisper intimating that some great and -universally interesting event had occurred all eyes, all -thoughts, were occupied with the young and beautiful woman, -whose gorgeous apparel and splendid jewels made a most -extraordinary spectacle. Upon this occasion an unmistakable -sign from Madame Danglars intimated her desire to see Albert -in her box directly the curtain fell on the second act, and -neither the politeness nor good taste of Morcerf would -permit his neglecting an invitation so unequivocally given. -At the close of the act he therefore went to the baroness. -Having bowed to the two ladies, he extended his hand to -Debray. By the baroness he was most graciously welcomed, -while Eugenie received him with her accustomed coldness. -"My dear fellow," said Debray, "you have come in the nick of -time. There is madame overwhelming me with questions -respecting the count she insists upon it that I can tell -her his birth, education, and parentage, where he came from, -and whither he is going. Being no disciple of Cagliostro, I -was wholly unable to do this so, by way of getting out of -the scrape, I said, "Ask Morcerf he has got the whole -history of his beloved Monte Cristo at his fingers' ends' -whereupon the baroness signified her desire to see you." -"Is it not almost incredible," said Madame Danglars, "that a -person having at least half a million of secretservice -money at his command, should possess so little information?" -"Let me assure you, madame," said Lucien, "that had I really -the sum you mention at my disposal, I would employ it more -profitably than in troubling myself to obtain particulars -respecting the Count of Monte Cristo, whose only merit in my -eyes consists in his being twice as rich as a nabob. -However, I have turned the business over to Morcerf, so pray -settle it with him as may be most agreeable to you for my -own part, I care nothing about the count or his mysterious -doings." -"I am very sure no nabob would have sent me a pair of horses -worth , francs, wearing on their heads four diamonds -valued at , francs each." -"He seems to have a mania for diamonds," said Morcerf, -smiling, "and I verily believe that, like Potemkin, he keeps -his pockets filled, for the sake of strewing them along the -road, as Tom Thumb did his flint stones." -"Perhaps he has discovered some mine," said Madame Danglars. -"I suppose you know he has an order for unlimited credit on -the baron's banking establishment?" -"I was not aware of it," replied Albert, "but I can readily -believe it." -"And, further, that he stated to M. Danglars his intention -of only staying a year in Paris, during which time he -proposed to spend six millions. -"He must be the Shah of Persia, travelling incog." -"Have you noticed the remarkable beauty of the young woman, -M. Lucien?" inquired Eugenie. -"I really never met with one woman so ready to do justice to -the charms of another as yourself," responded Lucien, -raising his lorgnette to his eye. "A most lovely creature, -upon my soul" was his verdict. -"Who is this young person, M. de Morcerf?" inquired Eugenie -"does anybody know?" -"Mademoiselle," said Albert, replying to this direct appeal, -"I can give you very exact information on that subject, as -well as on most points relative to the mysterious person of -whom we are now conversing the young woman is a Greek." -"So I should suppose by her dress if you know no more than -that, every one here is as wellinformed as yourself." -"I am extremely sorry you find me so ignorant a cicerone," -replied Morcerf, "but I am reluctantly obliged to confess, I -have nothing further to communicate yes, stay, I do know -one thing more, namely, that she is a musician, for one day -when I chanced to be breakfasting with the count, I heard -the sound of a guzla it is impossible that it could have -been touched by any other finger than her own." -"Then your count entertains visitors, does he?" asked Madame -Danglars. -"Indeed he does, and in a most lavish manner, I can assure -you." -"I must try and persuade M. Danglars to invite him to a ball -or dinner, or something of the sort, that he may be -compelled to ask us in return." -"What," said Debray, laughing "do you really mean you would -go to his house?" -"Why not? my husband could accompany me." -"But do you know this mysterious count is a bachelor?" -"You have ample proof to the contrary, if you look -opposite," said the baroness, as she laughingly pointed to -the beautiful Greek. -"No, no" exclaimed Debray "that girl is not his wife he -told us himself she was his slave. Do you not recollect, -Morcerf, his telling us so at your breakfast?" -"Well, then," said the baroness, "if slave she be, she has -all the air and manner of a princess." -"Of the "Arabian Nights'?" -"If you like but tell me, my dear Lucien, what it is that -constitutes a princess. Why, diamonds and she is covered -with them." -"To me she seems overloaded," observed Eugenie "she would -look far better if she wore fewer, and we should then be -able to see her finely formed throat and wrists." -"See how the artist peeps out" exclaimed Madame Danglars. -"My poor Eugenie, you must conceal your passion for the fine -arts." -"I admire all that is beautiful," returned the young lady. -"What do you think of the count?" inquired Debray "he is -not much amiss, according to my ideas of good looks." -"The count," repeated Eugenie, as though it had not occurred -to her to observe him sooner "the count? oh, he is so -dreadfully pale." -"I quite agree with you," said Morcerf "and the secret of -that very pallor is what we want to find out. The Countess -G insists upon it that he is a vampire." -"Then the Countess G has returned to Paris, has she?" -inquired the baroness. -"Is that she, mamma?" asked Eugenie "almost opposite to us, -with that profusion of beautiful light hair?" -"Yes," said Madame Danglars, "that is she. Shall I tell you -what you ought to do, Morcerf?" -"Command me, madame." -"Well, then, you should go and bring your Count of Monte -Cristo to us." -"What for?" asked Eugenie. -"What for? Why, to converse with him, of course. Have you -really no desire to meet him?" -"None whatever," replied Eugenie. -"Strange child," murmured the baroness. -"He will very probably come of his own accord," said -Morcerf. "There do you see, madame, he recognizes you, and -bows." The baroness returned the salute in the most smiling -and graceful manner. -"Well," said Morcerf, "I may as well be magnanimous, and -tear myself away to forward your wishes. Adieu I will go -and try if there are any means of speaking to him." -"Go straight to his box that will be the simplest plan." -"But I have never been presented." -"Presented to whom?" -"To the beautiful Greek." -"You say she is only a slave?" -"While you assert that she is a queen, or at least a -princess. No I hope that when he sees me leave you, he will -come out." -"That is possible go." -"I am going," said Albert, as he made his parting bow. Just -as he was passing the count's box, the door opened, and -Monte Cristo came forth. After giving some directions to -Ali, who stood in the lobby, the count took Albert's arm. -Carefully closing the box door, Ali placed himself before -it, while a crowd of spectators assembled round the Nubian. -"Upon my word," said Monte Cristo, "Paris is a strange city, -and the Parisians a very singular people. See that cluster -of persons collected around poor Ali, who is as much -astonished as themselves really one might suppose he was -the only Nubian they had ever beheld. Now I can promise you, -that a Frenchman might show himself in public, either in -Tunis, Constantinople, Bagdad, or Cairo, without being -treated in that way." -"That shows that the Eastern nations have too much good -sense to waste their time and attention on objects -undeserving of either. However, as far as Ali is concerned, -I can assure you, the interest he excites is merely from the -circumstance of his being your attendant you, who are at -this moment the most celebrated and fashionable person in -Paris." -"Really? and what has procured me so fluttering a -distinction?" -"What? why, yourself, to be sure You give away horses worth -a thousand louis you save the lives of ladies of high rank -and beauty under the name of Major Brack you run -thoroughbreds ridden by tiny urchins not larger than -marmots then, when you have carried off the golden trophy -of victory, instead of setting any value on it, you give it -to the first handsome woman you think of" -"And who has filled your head with all this nonsense?" -"Why, in the first place, I heard it from Madame Danglars, -who, by the by, is dying to see you in her box, or to have -you seen there by others secondly, I learned it from -Beauchamp's journal and thirdly, from my own imagination. -Why, if you sought concealment, did you call your horse -Vampa?" -"That was an oversight, certainly," replied the count "but -tell me, does the Count of Morcerf never visit the Opera? I -have been looking for him, but without success." -"He will be here tonight." -"In what part of the house?" -"In the baroness's box, I believe." -"That charming young woman with her is her daughter?" -"Yes." -"I congratulate you." Morcerf smiled. "We will discuss that -subject at length some future time," said he. "But what do -you think of the music?" -"What music?" -"Why, the music you have been listening to." -"Oh, it is well enough as the production of a human -composer, sung by featherless bipeds, to quote the late -Diogenes." -"From which it would seem, my dear count, that you can at -pleasure enjoy the seraphic strains that proceed from the -seven choirs of paradise?" -"You are right, in some degree when I wish to listen to -sounds more exquisitely attuned to melody than mortal ear -ever yet listened to, I go to sleep." -"Then sleep here, my dear count. The conditions are -favorable what else was opera invented for?" -"No, thank you. Your orchestra is too noisy. To sleep after -the manner I speak of, absolute calm and silence are -necessary, and then a certain preparation" -"I know the famous hashish" -"Precisely. So, my dear viscount, whenever you wish to be -regaled with music come and sup with me." -"I have already enjoyed that treat when breakfasting with -you," said Morcerf. -"Do you mean at Rome?" -"I do." -"Ah, then, I suppose you heard Haidee's guzla the poor -exile frequently beguiles a weary hour in playing over to me -the airs of her native land." Morcerf did not pursue the -subject, and Monte Cristo himself fell into a silent -reverie. The bell rang at this moment for the rising of the -curtain. "You will excuse my leaving you," said the count, -turning in the direction of his box. -"What? Are you going?" -"Pray, say everything that is kind to Countess G on the -part of her friend the Vampire." -"And what message shall I convey to the baroness" -"That, with her permission, I shall do myself the honor of -paying my respects in the course of the evening." -The third act had begun and during its progress the Count -of Morcerf, according to his promise, made his appearance in -the box of Madame Danglars. The Count of Morcerf was not a -person to excite either interest or curiosity in a place of -public amusement his presence, therefore, was wholly -unnoticed, save by the occupants of the box in which he had -just seated himself. The quick eye of Monte Cristo however, -marked his coming and a slight though meaning smile passed -over his lips. Haidee, whose soul seemed centred in the -business of the stage, like all unsophisticated natures, -delighted in whatever addressed itself to the eye or ear. -The third act passed off as usual. Mesdemoiselles Noblet, -Julie, and Leroux executed the customary pirouettes Robert -duly challenged the Prince of Granada and the royal father -of the princess Isabella, taking his daughter by the hand, -swept round the stage with majestic strides, the better to -display the rich folds of his velvet robe and mantle. After -which the curtain again fell, and the spectators poured -forth from the theatre into the lobbies and salon. The count -left his box, and a moment later was saluting the Baronne -Danglars, who could not restrain a cry of mingled pleasure -and surprise. "You are welcome, count" she exclaimed, as he -entered. "I have been most anxious to see you, that I might -repeat orally the thanks writing can so ill express." -"Surely so trifling a circumstance cannot deserve a place in -your remembrance. Believe me, madame, I had entirely -forgotten it." -"But it is not so easy to forget, monsieur, that the very -next day after your princely gift you saved the life of my -dear friend, Madame de Villefort, which was endangered by -the very animals your generosity restored to me." -"This time, at least, I do not deserve your thanks. It was -Ali, my Nubian slave, who rendered this service to Madame de -Villefort." -"Was it Ali," asked the Count of Morcerf, "who rescued my -son from the hands of bandits?" -"No, count," replied Monte Cristo taking the hand held out -to him by the general "in this instance I may fairly and -freely accept your thanks but you have already tendered -them, and fully discharged your debt if indeed there -existed one and I feel almost mortified to find you still -reverting to the subject. May I beg of you, baroness, to -honor me with an introduction to your daughter?" -"Oh, you are no stranger at least not by name," replied -Madame Danglars, "and the last two or three days we have -really talked of nothing but you. Eugenie," continued the -baroness, turning towards her daughter, "this is the Count -of Monte Cristo." The Count bowed, while Mademoiselle -Danglars bent her head slightly. "You have a charming young -person with you tonight, count," said Eugenie. "Is she your -daughter?" -"No, mademoiselle," said Monte Cristo, astonished at the -coolness and freedom of the question. "She is a poor -unfortunate Greek left under my care." -"And what is her name?" -"Haidee," replied Monte Cristo. -"A Greek?" murmured the Count of Morcerf. -"Yes, indeed, count," said Madame Danglars "and tell me, -did you ever see at the court of Ali Tepelini, whom you so -gloriously and valiantly served, a more exquisite beauty or -richer costume?" -"Did I hear rightly, monsieur," said Monte Cristo "that you -served at Yanina?" -"I was inspectorgeneral of the pasha's troops," replied -Morcerf "and it is no secret that I owe my fortune, such as -it is, to the liberality of the illustrious Albanese chief." -"But look" exclaimed Madame Danglars. -"Where?" stammered Morcerf. -"There," said Monte Cristo placing his arms around the -count, and leaning with him over the front of the box, just -as Haidee, whose eyes were occupied in examining the theatre -in search of her guardian, perceived his pale features close -to Morcerf's face. It was as if the young girl beheld the -head of Medusa. She bent forwards as though to assure -herself of the reality of what she saw, then, uttering a -faint cry, threw herself back in her seat. The sound was -heard by the people about Ali, who instantly opened the -boxdoor. "Why, count," exclaimed Eugenie, "what has -happened to your ward? she seems to have been taken suddenly -ill." -"Very probably," answered the count. "But do not be alarmed -on her account. Haidee's nervous system is delicately -organized, and she is peculiarly susceptible to the odors -even of flowers nay, there are some which cause her to -faint if brought into her presence. However," continued -Monte Cristo, drawing a small phial from his pocket, "I have -an infallible remedy." So saying, he bowed to the baroness -and her daughter, exchanged a parting shake of the hand with -Debray and the count, and left Madame Danglars' box. Upon -his return to Haidee he found her still very pale. As soon -as she saw him she seized his hand her own hands were moist -and icy cold. "Who was it you were talking with over there?" -she asked. -"With the Count of Morcerf," answered Monte Cristo. "He -tells me he served your illustrious father, and that he owes -his fortune to him." -"Wretch" exclaimed Haidee, her eyes flashing with rage "he -sold my father to the Turks, and the fortune he boasts of -was the price of his treachery Did not you know that, my -dear lord?" -"Something of this I heard in Epirus," said Monte Cristo -"but the particulars are still unknown to me. You shall -relate them to me, my child. They are, no doubt, both -curious and interesting." -"Yes, yes but let us go. I feel as though it would kill me -to remain long near that dreadful man." So saying, Haidee -arose, and wrapping herself in her burnoose of white -cashmire embroidered with pearls and coral, she hastily -quitted the box at the moment when the curtain was rising -upon the fourth act. -"Do you observe," said the Countess G to Albert, who -had returned to her side, "that man does nothing like other -people he listens most devoutly to the third act of "Robert -le Diable,' and when the fourth begins, takes his -departure." -Chapter -A Flurry in Stocks. -Some days after this meeting, Albert de Morcerf visited the -Count of Monte Cristo at his house in the Champs Elysees, -which had already assumed that palacelike appearance which -the count's princely fortune enabled him to give even to his -most temporary residences. He came to renew the thanks of -Madame Danglars which had been already conveyed to the count -through the medium of a letter, signed "Baronne Danglars, -nee Hermine de Servieux." Albert was accompanied by Lucien -Debray, who, joining in his friend's conversation, added -some passing compliments, the source of which the count's -talent for finesse easily enabled him to guess. He was -convinced that Lucien's visit was due to a double feeling of -curiosity, the larger half of which sentiment emanated from -the Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin. In short, Madame Danglars, -not being able personally to examine in detail the domestic -economy and household arrangements of a man who gave away -horses worth , francs and who went to the opera with a -Greek slave wearing diamonds to the amount of a million of -money, had deputed those eyes, by which she was accustomed -to see, to give her a faithful account of the mode of life -of this incomprehensible person. But the count did not -appear to suspect that there could be the slightest -connection between Lucien's visit and the curiosity of the -baroness. -"You are in constant communication with the Baron Danglars?" -the count inquired of Albert de Morcerf. -"Yes, count, you know what I told you?" -"All remains the same, then, in that quarter?" -"It is more than ever a settled thing," said Lucien, and, -considering that this remark was all that he was at that -time called upon to make, he adjusted the glass to his eye, -and biting the top of his gold headed cane, began to make -the tour of the apartment, examining the arms and the -pictures. -"Ah," said Monte Cristo "I did not expect that the affair -would be so promptly concluded." -"Oh, things take their course without our assistance. While -we are forgetting them, they are falling into their -appointed order and when, again, our attention is directed -to them, we are surprised at the progress they have made -towards the proposed end. My father and M. Danglars served -together in Spain, my father in the army and M. Danglars in -the commissariat department. It was there that my father, -ruined by the revolution, and M. Danglars, who never had -possessed any patrimony, both laid the foundations of their -different fortunes." -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "I think M. Danglars mentioned that -in a visit which I paid him and," continued he, casting a -sideglance at Lucien, who was turning over the leaves of an -album, "Mademoiselle Eugenie is pretty I think I remember -that to be her name." -"Very pretty, or rather, very beautiful," replied Albert, -"but of that style of beauty which I do not appreciate I am -an ungrateful fellow." -"You speak as if you were already her husband." -"Ah," returned Albert, in his turn looking around to see -what Lucien was doing. -"Really," said Monte Cristo, lowering his voice, "you do not -appear to me to be very enthusiastic on the subject of this -marriage." -"Mademoiselle Danglars is too rich for me," replied Morcerf, -"and that frightens me." -"Bah," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "that's a fine reason to -give. Are you not rich yourself?" -"My father's income is about , francs per annum and he -will give me, perhaps, ten or twelve thousand when I marry." -"That, perhaps, might not be considered a large sum, in -Paris especially," said the count "but everything does not -depend on wealth, and it is a fine thing to have a good -name, and to occupy a high station in society. Your name is -celebrated, your position magnificent and then the Comte de -Morcerf is a soldier, and it is pleasing to see the -integrity of a Bayard united to the poverty of a Duguesclin -disinterestedness is the brightest ray in which a noble -sword can shine. As for me, I consider the union with -Mademoiselle Danglars a most suitable one she will enrich -you, and you will ennoble her." Albert shook his head, and -looked thoughtful. "There is still something else," said he. -"I confess," observed Monte Cristo, "that I have some -difficulty in comprehending your objection to a young lady -who is both rich and beautiful." -"Oh," said Morcerf, "this repugnance, if repugnance it may -be called, is not all on my side." -"Whence can it arise, then? for you told me your father -desired the marriage." -"It is my mother who dissents she has a clear and -penetrating judgment, and does not smile on the proposed -union. I cannot account for it, but she seems to entertain -some prejudice against the Danglars." -"Ah," said the count, in a somewhat forced tone, "that may -be easily explained the Comtesse de Morcerf, who is -aristocracy and refinement itself, does not relish the idea -of being allied by your marriage with one of ignoble birth -that is natural enough." -"I do not know if that is her reason," said Albert, "but one -thing I do know, that if this marriage be consummated, it -will render her quite miserable. There was to have been a -meeting six weeks ago in order to talk over and settle the -affair but I had such a sudden attack of indisposition" -"Real?" interrupted the count, smiling. -"Oh, real enough, from anxiety doubtless, at any rate -they postponed the matter for two months. There is no hurry, -you know. I am not yet twentyone, and Eugenie is only -seventeen but the two months expire next week. It must be -done. My dear count, you cannot imagine how my mind is -harassed. How happy you are in being exempt from all this" -"Well, and why should not you be free, too? What prevents -you from being so?" -"Oh, it will be too great a disappointment to my father if I -do not marry Mademoiselle Danglars." -"Marry her then," said the count, with a significant shrug -of the shoulders. -"Yes," replied Morcerf, "but that will plunge my mother into -positive grief." -"Then do not marry her," said the count. -"Well, I shall see. I will try and think over what is the -best thing to be done you will give me your advice, will -you not, and if possible extricate me from my unpleasant -position? I think, rather than give pain to my dear mother, -I would run the risk of offending the count." Monte Cristo -turned away he seemed moved by this last remark. "Ah," said -he to Debray, who had thrown himself into an easychair at -the farthest extremity of the salon, and who held a pencil -in his right hand and an account book in his left, "what are -you doing there? Are you making a sketch after Poussin?" -"Oh, no," was the tranquil response "I am too fond of art -to attempt anything of that sort. I am doing a little sum in -arithmetic." -"In arithmetic?" -"Yes I am calculating by the way, Morcerf, that -indirectly concerns you I am calculating what the house -of Danglars must have gained by the last rise in Haiti -bonds from they have risen to in three days, and -the prudent banker had purchased at therefore he must -have made , livres." -"That is not his biggest scoop," said Morcerf "did he not -make a million in Spaniards this last year?" -"My dear fellow," said Lucien, "here is the Count of Monte -Cristo, who will say to you, as the Italians do, -""Danaro e santita, -Meta della meta.' - "Money and sanctity, -Each in a moiety. -"When they tell me such things, I only shrug my shoulders -and say nothing." -"But you were speaking of Haitians?" said Monte Cristo. -"Ah, Haitians, that is quite another thing Haitians are -the ecarte of French stockjobbing. We may like bouillotte, -delight in whist, be enraptured with boston, and yet grow -tired of them all but we always come back to ecarte it -is not only a game, it is a horsd'oeuvre M. Danglars sold -yesterday at , and pockets , francs. Had he but -waited till today, the price would have fallen to , and -instead of gaining , francs, he would have lost or -"And what has caused the sudden fall from to ?" asked -Monte Cristo. "I am profoundly ignorant of all these -stockjobbing intrigues." -"Because," said Albert, laughing, "one piece of news follows -another, and there is often great dissimilarity between -them." -"Ah," said the count, "I see that M. Danglars is accustomed -to play at gaining or losing , francs in a day he -must be enormously rich." -"It is not he who plays" exclaimed Lucien "it is Madame -Danglars she is indeed daring." -"But you who are a reasonable being, Lucien, and who know -how little dependence is to be placed on the news, since you -are at the fountainhead, surely you ought to prevent it," -said Morcerf, with a smile. -"How can I, if her husband fails in controlling her?" asked -Lucien "you know the character of the baroness no one -has any influence with her, and she does precisely what she -pleases." -"Ah, if I were in your place" said Albert. -"Well?" -"I would reform her it would be rendering a service to her -future soninlaw." -"How would you set about it?" -"Ah, that would be easy enough I would give her a -lesson." -"A lesson?" -"Yes. Your position as secretary to the minister renders -your authority great on the subject of political news you -never open your mouth but the stockbrokers immediately -stenograph your words. Cause her to lose a hundred thousand -francs, and that would teach her prudence." -"I do not understand," stammered Lucien. -"It is very clear, notwithstanding," replied the young man, -with an artlessness wholly free from affectation "tell her -some fine morning an unheardof piece of intelligence -some telegraphic despatch, of which you alone are in -possession for instance, that Henri IV. was seen yesterday -at Gabrielle's. That would boom the market she will buy -heavily, and she will certainly lose when Beauchamp -announces the following day, in his gazette, "The report -circulated by some usually wellinformed persons that the -king was seen yesterday at Gabrielle's house, is totally -without foundation. We can positively assert that his -majesty did not quit the PontNeuf.'" Lucien half smiled. -Monte Cristo, although apparently indifferent, had not lost -one word of this conversation, and his penetrating eye had -even read a hidden secret in the embarrassed manner of the -secretary. This embarrassment had completely escaped Albert, -but it caused Lucien to shorten his visit he was evidently -ill at ease. The count, in taking leave of him, said -something in a low voice, to which he answered, "Willingly, -count I accept." The count returned to young Morcerf. -"Do you not think, on reflection," said he to him, "that you -have done wrong in thus speaking of your motherinlaw in -the presence of M. Debray?" -"My dear count," said Morcerf, "I beg of you not to apply -that title so prematurely." -"Now, speaking without any exaggeration, is your mother -really so very much averse to this marriage?" -"So much so that the baroness very rarely comes to the -house, and my mother, has not, I think, visited Madame -Danglars twice in her whole life." -"Then," said the count, "I am emboldened to speak openly to -you. M. Danglars is my banker M. de Villefort has -overwhelmed me with politeness in return for a service which -a casual piece of good fortune enabled me to render him. I -predict from all this an avalanche of dinners and routs. -Now, in order not to presume on this, and also to be -beforehand with them, I have, if agreeable to you, thought -of inviting M. and Madame Danglars, and M. and Madame de -Villefort, to my countryhouse at Auteuil. If I were to -invite you and the Count and Countess of Morcerf to this -dinner, I should give it the appearance of being a -matrimonial meeting, or at least Madame de Morcerf would -look upon the affair in that light, especially if Baron -Danglars did me the honor to bring his daughter. In that -case your mother would hold me in aversion, and I do not at -all wish that on the contrary, I desire to stand high in -her esteem." -"Indeed, count," said Morcerf, "I thank you sincerely for -having used so much candor towards me, and I gratefully -accept the exclusion which you propose. You say you desire -my mother's good opinion I assure you it is already yours -to a very unusual extent." -"Do you think so?" said Monte Cristo, with interest. -"Oh, I am sure of it we talked of you an hour after you -left us the other day. But to return to what we were saying. -If my mother could know of this attention on your part -and I will venture to tell her I am sure that she will be -most grateful to you it is true that my father will be -equally angry." The count laughed. "Well," said he to -Morcerf, "but I think your father will not be the only angry -one M. and Madame Danglars will think me a very -illmannered person. They know that I am intimate with you -that you are, in fact one of the oldest of my Parisian -acquaintances and they will not find you at my house -they will certainly ask me why I did not invite you. Be sure -to provide yourself with some previous engagement which -shall have a semblance of probability, and communicate the -fact to me by a line in writing. You know that with bankers -nothing but a written document will be valid." -"I will do better than that," said Albert "my mother is -wishing to go to the seaside what day is fixed for your -dinner?" -"Saturday." -"This is Tuesday well, tomorrow evening we leave, and -the day after we shall be at Treport. Really, count, you -have a delightful way of setting people at their ease." -"Indeed, you give me more credit than I deserve I only wish -to do what will be agreeable to you, that is all." -"When shall you send your invitations?" -"This very day." -"Well, I will immediately call on M. Danglars, and tell him -that my mother and myself must leave Paris tomorrow. I have -not seen you, consequently I know nothing of your dinner." -"How foolish you are Have you forgotten that M. Debray has -just seen you at my house?" -"Ah, true," -"Fix it this way. I have seen you, and invited you without -any ceremony, when you instantly answered that it would be -impossible for you to accept, as you were going to Treport." -"Well, then, that is settled but you will come and call on -my mother before tomorrow?" -"Before tomorrow? that will be a difficult matter to -arrange, besides, I shall just be in the way of all the -preparations for departure." -"Well, you can do better. You were only a charming man -before, but, if you accede to my proposal, you will be -adorable." -"What must I do to attain such sublimity?" -"You are today free as air come and dine with me we -shall be a small party only yourself, my mother, and I. -You have scarcely seen my mother you shall have an -opportunity of observing her more closely. She is a -remarkable woman, and I only regret that there does not -exist another like her, about twenty years younger in that -case, I assure you, there would very soon be a Countess and -Viscountess of Morcerf. As to my father, you will not see -him he is officially engaged, and dines with the chief -referendary. We will talk over our travels and you, who -have seen the whole world, will relate your adventures -you shall tell us the history of the beautiful Greek who was -with you the other night at the Opera, and whom you call -your slave, and yet treat like a princess. We will talk -Italian and Spanish. Come, accept my invitation, and my -mother will thank you." -"A thousand thanks," said the count, "your invitation is -most gracious, and I regret exceedingly that it is not in my -power to accept it. I am not so much at liberty as you -suppose on the contrary, I have a most important -engagement." -"Ah, take care, you were teaching me just now how, in case -of an invitation to dinner, one might creditably make an -excuse. I require the proof of a preengagement. I am not a -banker, like M. Danglars, but I am quite as incredulous as -he is." -"I am going to give you a proof," replied the count, and he -rang the bell. -"Humph," said Morcerf, "this is the second time you have -refused to dine with my mother it is evident that you wish -to avoid her." Monte Cristo started. "Oh, you do not mean -that," said he "besides, here comes the confirmation of my -assertion." Baptistin entered, and remained standing at the -door. "I had no previous knowledge of your visit, had I?" -"Indeed, you are such an extraordinary person, that I would -not answer for it." -"At all events, I could not guess that you would invite me -to dinner." -"Probably not." -"Well, listen, Baptistin, what did I tell you this morning -when I called you into my laboratory?" -"To close the door against visitors as soon as the clock -struck five," replied the valet. -"What then?" -"Ah, my dear count," said Albert. -"No, no, I wish to do away with that mysterious reputation -that you have given me, my dear viscount it is tiresome to -be always acting Manfred. I wish my life to be free and -open. Go on, Baptistin." -"Then to admit no one except Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and -his son." -"You hear Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti a man who ranks -amongst the most ancient nobility of Italy, whose name Dante -has celebrated in the tenth canto of "The Inferno,' you -remember it, do you not? Then there is his son, Andrea, a -charming young man, about your own age, viscount, bearing -the same title as yourself, and who is making his entry into -the Parisian world, aided by his father's millions. The -major will bring his son with him this evening, the contino, -as we say in Italy he confides him to my care. If he proves -himself worthy of it, I will do what I can to advance his -interests. You will assist me in the work, will you not?" -"Most undoubtedly. This Major Cavalcanti is an old friend of -yours, then?" -"By no means. He is a perfect nobleman, very polite, modest, -and agreeable, such as may be found constantly in Italy, -descendants of very ancient families. I have met him several -times at Florence, Bologna and Lucca, and he has now -communicated to me the fact of his arrival in Paris. The -acquaintances one makes in travelling have a sort of claim -on one they everywhere expect to receive the same attention -which you once paid them by chance, as though the civilities -of a passing hour were likely to awaken any lasting interest -in favor of the man in whose society you may happen to be -thrown in the course of your journey. This good Major -Cavalcanti is come to take a second view of Paris, which he -only saw in passing through in the time of the Empire, when -he was on his way to Moscow. I shall give him a good dinner, -he will confide his son to my care, I will promise to watch -over him, I shall let him follow in whatever path his folly -may lead him, and then I shall have done my part." -"Certainly I see you are a model Mentor," said Albert -"Goodby, we shall return on Sunday. By the way, I have -received news of Franz." -"Have you? Is he still amusing himself in Italy?" -"I believe so however, he regrets your absence extremely. -He says you were the sun of Rome, and that without you all -appears dark and cloudy I do not know if he does not even -go so far as to say that it rains." -"His opinion of me is altered for the better, then?" -"No, he still persists in looking upon you as the most -incomprehensible and mysterious of beings." -"He is a charming young man," said Monte Cristo "and I felt -a lively interest in him the very first evening of my -introduction, when I met him in search of a supper, and -prevailed upon him to accept a portion of mine. He is, I -think, the son of General d'Epinay?" -"He is." -"The same who was so shamefully assassinated in ?" -"By the Bonapartists." -"Yes. Really I like him extremely is there not also a -matrimonial engagement contemplated for him?" -"Yes, he is to marry Mademoiselle de Villefort." -"Indeed?" -"And you know I am to marry Mademoiselle Danglars," said -Albert, laughing. -"You smile." -"Yes." -"Why do you do so?" -"I smile because there appears to me to be about as much -inclination for the consummation of the engagement in -question as there is for my own. But really, my dear count, -we are talking as much of women as they do of us it is -unpardonable." Albert rose. -"Are you going?" -"Really, that is a good idea two hours have I been -boring you to death with my company, and then you, with the -greatest politeness, ask me if I am going. Indeed, count, -you are the most polished man in the world. And your -servants, too, how very well behaved they are there is -quite a style about them. Monsieur Baptistin especially I -could never get such a man as that. My servants seem to -imitate those you sometimes see in a play, who, because they -have only a word or two to say, aquit themselves in the most -awkward manner possible. Therefore, if you part with M. -Baptistin, give me the refusal of him." -"By all means." -"That is not all give my compliments to your illustrious -Luccanese, Cavalcante of the Cavalcanti and if by any -chance he should be wishing to establish his son, find him a -wife very rich, very noble on her mother's side at least, -and a baroness in right of her father, I will help you in -the search." -"Ah, ha you will do as much as that, will you?" -"Yes." -"Well, really, nothing is certain in this world." -"Oh, count, what a service you might render me I should -like you a hundred times better if, by your intervention, I -could manage to remain a bachelor, even were it only for ten -years." -"Nothing is impossible," gravely replied Monte Cristo and -taking leave of Albert, he returned into the house, and -struck the gong three times. Bertuccio appeared. "Monsieur -Bertuccio, you understand that I intend entertaining company -on Saturday at Auteuil." Bertuccio slightly started. "I -shall require your services to see that all be properly -arranged. It is a beautiful house, or at all events may be -made so." -"There must be a good deal done before it can deserve that -title, your excellency, for the tapestried hangings are very -old." -"Let them all be taken away and changed, then, with the -exception of the sleepingchamber which is hung with red -damask you will leave that exactly as it is." Bertuccio -bowed. "You will not touch the garden either as to the -yard, you may do what you please with it I should prefer -that being altered beyond all recognition." -"I will do everything in my power to carry out your wishes, -your excellency. I should be glad, however, to receive your -excellency's commands concerning the dinner." -"Really, my dear M. Bertuccio," said the count, "since you -have been in Paris, you have become quite nervous, and -apparently out of your element you no longer seem to -understand me." -"But surely your excellency will be so good as to inform me -whom you are expecting to receive?" -"I do not yet know myself, neither is it necessary that you -should do so. "Lucullus dines with Lucullus,' that is quite -sufficient." Bertuccio bowed, and left the room. -Chapter -Major Cavalcanti. -Both the count and Baptistin had told the truth when they -announced to Morcerf the proposed visit of the major, which -had served Monte Cristo as a pretext for declining Albert's -invitation. Seven o'clock had just struck, and M. Bertuccio, -according to the command which had been given him, had two -hours before left for Auteuil, when a cab stopped at the -door, and after depositing its occupant at the gate, -immediately hurried away, as if ashamed of its employment. -The visitor was about fiftytwo years of age, dressed in one -of the green surtouts, ornamented with black frogs, which -have so long maintained their popularity all over Europe. He -wore trousers of blue cloth, boots tolerably clean, but not -of the brightest polish, and a little too thick in the -soles, buckskin gloves, a hat somewhat resembling in shape -those usually worn by the gendarmes, and a black cravat -striped with white, which, if the proprietor had not worn it -of his own free will, might have passed for a halter, so -much did it resemble one. Such was the picturesque costume -of the person who rang at the gate, and demanded if it was -not at No. in the Avenue des ChampsElysees that the -Count of Monte Cristo lived, and who, being answered by the -porter in the affirmative, entered, closed the gate after -him, and began to ascend the steps. -The small and angular head of this man, his white hair and -thick gray mustaches, caused him to be easily recognized by -Baptistin, who had received an exact description of the -expected visitor, and who was awaiting him in the hall. -Therefore, scarcely had the stranger time to pronounce his -name before the count was apprised of his arrival. He was -ushered into a simple and elegant drawingroom, and the -count rose to meet him with a smiling air. "Ah, my dear sir, -you are most welcome I was expecting you." -"Indeed," said the Italian, "was your excellency then aware -of my visit?" -"Yes I had been told that I should see you today at seven -o'clock." -"Then you have received full information concerning my -arrival?" -"Of course." -"Ah, so much the better, I feared this little precaution -might have been forgotten." -"What precaution?" -"That of informing you beforehand of my coming." -"Oh, no, it has not." -"But you are sure you are not mistaken." -"Very sure." -"It really was I whom your excellency expected at seven -o'clock this evening?" -"I will prove it to you beyond a doubt." -"Oh, no, never mind that," said the Italian "it is not -worth the trouble." -"Yes, yes," said Monte Cristo. His visitor appeared slightly -uneasy. "Let me see," said the count "are you not the -Marquis Bartolomeo Cavalcanti?" -"Bartolomeo Cavalcanti," joyfully replied the Italian "yes, -I am really he." -"Exmajor in the Austrian service?" -"Was I a major?" timidly asked the old soldier. -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "you were a major that is the -title the French give to the post which you filled in -Italy." -"Very good," said the major, "I do not demand more, you -understand" -"Your visit here today is not of your own suggestion, is -it?" said Monte Cristo. -"No, certainly not." -"You were sent by some other person?" -"Yes." -"By the excellent Abbe Busoni?" -"Exactly so," said the delighted major. -"And you have a letter?" -"Yes, there it is." -"Give it me, then" and Monte Cristo took the letter, which -he opened and read. The major looked at the count with his -large staring eyes, and then took a survey of the apartment, -but his gaze almost immediately reverted to the proprietor -of the room. "Yes, yes, I see. "Major Cavalcanti, a worthy -patrician of Lucca, a descendant of the Cavalcanti of -Florence,'" continued Monte Cristo, reading aloud, -""possessing an income of half a million.'" Monte Cristo -raised his eyes from the paper, and bowed. "Half a million," -said he, "magnificent" -"Half a million, is it?" said the major. -"Yes, in so many words and it must be so, for the abbe -knows correctly the amount of all the largest fortunes in -Europe." -"Be it half a million, then but on my word of honor, I had -no idea that it was so much." -"Because you are robbed by your steward. You must make some -reformation in that quarter." -"You have opened my eyes," said the Italian gravely "I will -show the gentlemen the door." Monte Cristo resumed the -perusal of the letter -""And who only needs one thing more to make him happy.'" -"Yes, indeed but one" said the major with a sigh. -""Which is to recover a lost and adored son.'" -"A lost and adored son" -""Stolen away in his infancy, either by an enemy of his -noble family or by the gypsies.'" -"At the age of five years" said the major with a deep sigh, -and raising his eye to heaven. -"Unhappy father," said Monte Cristo. The count continued -""I have given him renewed life and hope, in the assurance -that you have the power of restoring the son whom he has -vainly sought for fifteen years.'" The major looked at the -count with an indescribable expression of anxiety. "I have -the power of so doing," said Monte Cristo. The major -recovered his selfpossession. "So, then," said he, "the -letter was true to the end?" -"Did you doubt it, my dear Monsieur Bartolomeo?" -"No, indeed certainly not a good man, a man holding -religious office, as does the Abbe Busoni, could not -condescend to deceive or play off a joke but your -excellency has not read all." -"Ah, true," said Monte Cristo "there is a postscript." -"Yes, yes," repeated the major, "yes there is a -postscript." -""In order to save Major Cavalcanti the trouble of drawing -on his banker, I send him a draft for , francs to defray -his travelling expenses, and credit on you for the further -sum of , francs, which you still owe me.'" The major -awaited the conclusion of the postscript, apparently with -great anxiety. "Very good," said the count. -"He said "very good,'" muttered the major, "then sir" -replied he. -"Then what?" asked Monte Cristo. -"Then the postscript" -"Well what of the postscript?" -"Then the postscript is as favorably received by you as the -rest of the letter?" -"Certainly the Abbe Busoni and myself have a small account -open between us. I do not remember if it is exactly , -francs, which I am still owing him, but I dare say we shall -not dispute the difference. You attached great importance, -then, to this postscript, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti?" -"I must explain to you," said the major, "that, fully -confiding in the signature of the Abbe Busoni, I had not -provided myself with any other funds so that if this -resource had failed me, I should have found myself very -unpleasantly situated in Paris." -"Is it possible that a man of your standing should be -embarrassed anywhere?" said Monte Cristo. -"Why, really I know no one," said the major. -"But then you yourself are known to others?" -"Yes, I am known, so that" -"Proceed, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti." -"So that you will remit to me these , francs?" -"Certainly, at your first request." The major's eyes dilated -with pleasing astonishment. "But sit down," said Monte -Cristo "really I do not know what I have been thinking of -I have positively kept you standing for the last quarter -of an hour." -"Don't mention it." The major drew an armchair towards him, -and proceeded to seat himself. -"Now," said the count, "what will you take a glass of -port, sherry, or Alicante?" -"Alicante, if you please it is my favorite wine." -"I have some that is very good. You will take a biscuit with -it, will you not?" -"Yes, I will take a biscuit, as you are so obliging." -Monte Cristo rang Baptistin appeared. The count advanced to -meet him. "Well?" said he in a low voice. "The young man is -here," said the valet de chambre in the same tone. -"Into what room did you take him?" -"Into the blue drawingroom, according to your excellency's -orders." -"That's right now bring the Alicante and some biscuits." -Baptistin left the room. "Really," said the major, "I am -quite ashamed of the trouble I am giving you." -"Pray don't mention such a thing," said the count. Baptistin -reentered with glasses, wine, and biscuits. The count -filled one glass, but in the other he only poured a few -drops of the rubycolored liquid. The bottle was covered -with spiders' webs, and all the other signs which indicate -the age of wine more truly than do wrinkles on a man's face. -The major made a wise choice he took the full glass and a -biscuit. The count told Baptistin to leave the plate within -reach of his guest, who began by sipping the Alicante with -an expression of great satisfaction, and then delicately -steeped his biscuit in the wine. -"So, sir, you lived at Lucca, did you? You were rich, noble, -held in great esteem had all that could render a man -happy?" -"All," said the major, hastily swallowing his biscuit, -"positively all." -"And yet there was one thing wanting in order to complete -your happiness?" -"Only one thing," said the Italian. -"And that one thing, your lost child." -"Ah," said the major, taking a second biscuit, "that -consummation of my happiness was indeed wanting." The worthy -major raised his eyes to heaven and sighed. -"Let me hear, then," said the count, "who this deeply -regretted son was for I always understood you were a -bachelor." -"That was the general opinion, sir," said the major, "and I" -"Yes," replied the count, "and you confirmed the report. A -youthful indiscretion, I suppose, which you were anxious to -conceal from the world at large?" The major recovered -himself, and resumed his usual calm manner, at the same time -casting his eyes down, either to give himself time to -compose his countenance, or to assist his imagination, all -the while giving an underlook at the count, the protracted -smile on whose lips still announced the same polite -curiosity. "Yes," said the major, "I did wish this fault to -be hidden from every eye." -"Not on your own account, surely," replied Monte Cristo -"for a man is above that sort of thing?" -"Oh, no, certainly not on my own account," said the major -with a smile and a shake of the head. -"But for the sake of the mother?" said the count. -"Yes, for the mother's sake his poor mother" cried the -major, taking a third biscuit. -"Take some more wine, my dear Cavalcanti," said the count, -pouring out for him a second glass of Alicante "your -emotion has quite overcome you." -"His poor mother," murmured the major, trying to get the -lachrymal gland in operation, so as to moisten the corner of -his eye with a false tear. -"She belonged to one of the first families in Italy, I -think, did she not?" -"She was of a noble family of Fiesole, count." -"And her name was" -"Do you desire to know her name?" -"Oh," said Monte Cristo "it would be quite superfluous for -you to tell me, for I already know it." -"The count knows everything," said the Italian, bowing. -"Oliva Corsinari, was it not?" -"Oliva Corsinari." -"A marchioness?" -"A marchioness." -"And you married her at last, notwithstanding the opposition -of her family?" -"Yes, that was the way it ended." -"And you have doubtless brought all your papers with you?" -said Monte Cristo. -"What papers?" -"The certificate of your marriage with Oliva Corsinari, and -the register of your child's birth." -"The register of my child's birth?" -"The register of the birth of Andrea Cavalcanti of your -son is not his name Andrea?" -"I believe so," said the major. -"What? You believe so?" -"I dare not positively assert it, as he has been lost for so -long a time." -"Well, then," said Monte Cristo "you have all the documents -with you?" -"Your excellency, I regret to say that, not knowing it was -necessary to come provided with these papers, I neglected to -bring them." -"That is unfortunate," returned Monte Cristo. -"Were they, then, so necessary?" -"They were indispensable." -The major passed his hand across his brow. "Ah, per Bacco, -indispensable, were they?" -"Certainly they were supposing there were to be doubts -raised as to the validity of your marriage or the legitimacy -of your child?" -"True," said the major, "there might be doubts raised." -"In that case your son would be very unpleasantly situated." -"It would be fatal to his interests." -"It might cause him to fail in some desirable matrimonial -alliance." -"O peccato" -"You must know that in France they are very particular on -these points it is not sufficient, as in Italy, to go to -the priest and say, "We love each other, and want you to -marry us.' Marriage is a civil affair in France, and in -order to marry in an orthodox manner you must have papers -which undeniably establish your identity." -"That is the misfortune You see I have not these necessary -papers." -"Fortunately, I have them, though," said Monte Cristo. -"You?" -"Yes." -"You have them?" -"I have them." -"Ah, indeed?" said the major, who, seeing the object of his -journey frustrated by the absence of the papers, feared also -that his forgetfulness might give rise to some difficulty -concerning the , francs "ah, indeed, that is a -fortunate circumstance yes, that really is lucky, for it -never occurred to me to bring them." -"I do not at all wonder at it one cannot think of -everything but, happily, the Abbe Busoni thought for you." -"He is an excellent person." -"He is extremely prudent and thoughtful" -"He is an admirable man," said the major "and he sent them -to you?" -"Here they are." -The major clasped his hands in token of admiration. "You -married Oliva Corsinari in the church of San Paolo del -MonteCattini here is the priest's certificate." -"Yes indeed, there it is truly," said the Italian, looking -on with astonishment. -"And here is Andrea Cavalcanti's baptismal register, given -by the curate of Saravezza." -"All quite correct." -"Take these documents, then they do not concern me. You -will give them to your son, who will, of course, take great -care of them." -"I should think so, indeed If he were to lose them" -"Well, and if he were to lose them?" said Monte Cristo. -"In that case," replied the major, "it would be necessary to -write to the curate for duplicates, and it would be some -time before they could be obtained." -"It would be a difficult matter to arrange," said Monte -Cristo. -"Almost an impossibility," replied the major. -"I am very glad to see that you understand the value of -these papers." -"I regard them as invaluable." -"Now," said Monte Cristo "as to the mother of the young man" -"As to the mother of the young man" repeated the Italian, -with anxiety. -"As regards the Marchesa Corsinari" -"Really," said the major, "difficulties seem to thicken upon -us will she be wanted in any way?" -"No, sir," replied Monte Cristo "besides, has she not" -"Yes, sir," said the major, "she has" -"Paid the last debt of nature?" -"Alas, yes," returned the Italian. -"I knew that," said Monte Cristo "she has been dead these -ten years." -"And I am still mourning her loss," exclaimed the major, -drawing from his pocket a checked handkerchief, and -alternately wiping first the left and then the right eye. -"What would you have?" said Monte Cristo "we are all -mortal. Now, you understand, my dear Monsieur Cavalcanti, -that it is useless for you to tell people in France that you -have been separated from your son for fifteen years. Stories -of gypsies, who steal children, are not at all in vogue in -this part of the world, and would not be believed. You sent -him for his education to a college in one of the provinces, -and now you wish him to complete his education in the -Parisian world. That is the reason which has induced you to -leave Via Reggio, where you have lived since the death of -your wife. That will be sufficient." -"You think so?" -"Certainly." -"Very well, then." -"If they should hear of the separation" -"Ah, yes what could I say?" -"That an unfaithful tutor, bought over by the enemies of -your family" -"By the Corsinari?" -"Precisely. Had stolen away this child, in order that your -name might become extinct." -"That is reasonable, since he is an only son." -"Well, now that all is arranged, do not let these newly -awakened remembrances be forgotten. You have, doubtless, -already guessed that I was preparing a surprise for you?" -"An agreeable one?" asked the Italian. -"Ah, I see the eye of a father is no more to be deceived -than his heart." -"Hum" said the major. -"Some one has told you the secret or, perhaps, you guessed -that he was here." -"That who was here?" -"Your child your son your Andrea" -"I did guess it," replied the major with the greatest -possible coolness. "Then he is here?" -"He is," said Monte Cristo "when the valet de chambre came -in just now, he told me of his arrival." -"Ah, very well, very well," said the major, clutching the -buttons of his coat at each exclamation. -"My dear sir," said Monte Cristo, "I understand your -emotion you must have time to recover yourself. I will, in -the meantime, go and prepare the young man for this -muchdesired interview, for I presume that he is not less -impatient for it than yourself." -"I should quite imagine that to be the case," said -Cavalcanti. -"Well, in a quarter of an hour he shall be with you." -"You will bring him, then? You carry your goodness so far as -even to present him to me yourself?" -"No I do not wish to come between a father and son. Your -interview will be private. But do not be uneasy even if the -powerful voice of nature should be silent, you cannot well -mistake him he will enter by this door. He is a fine young -man, of fair complexion a little too fair, perhaps -pleasing in manners but you will see and judge for -yourself." -"By the way," said the major, "you know I have only the -, francs which the Abbe Busoni sent me this sum I have -expended upon travelling expenses, and" -"And you want money that is a matter of course, my dear M. -Cavalcanti. Well, here are , francs on account." -The major's eyes sparkled brilliantly. -"It is , francs which I now owe you," said Monte -Cristo. -"Does your excellency wish for a receipt?" said the major, -at the same time slipping the money into the inner pocket of -his coat. -"For what?" said the count. -"I thought you might want it to show the Abbe Busoni." -"Well, when you receive the remaining ,, you shall give -me a receipt in full. Between honest men such excessive -precaution is, I think, quite unnecessary." -"Yes, so it is, between perfectly upright people." -"One word more," said Monte Cristo. -"Say on." -"You will permit me to make one remark?" -"Certainly pray do so." -"Then I should advise you to leave off wearing that style of -dress." -"Indeed," said the major, regarding himself with an air of -complete satisfaction. -"Yes. It may be worn at Via Reggio but that costume, -however elegant in itself, has long been out of fashion in -Paris." -"That's unfortunate." -"Oh, if you really are attached to your old mode of dress -you can easily resume it when you leave Paris." -"But what shall I wear?" -"What you find in your trunks." -"In my trunks? I have but one portmanteau." -"I dare say you have nothing else with you. What is the use -of boring one's self with so many things? Besides an old -soldier always likes to march with as little baggage as -possible." -"That is just the case precisely so." -"But you are a man of foresight and prudence, therefore you -sent your luggage on before you. It has arrived at the Hotel -des Princes, Rue de Richelieu. It is there you are to take -up your quarters." -"Then, in these trunks" -"I presume you have given orders to your valet de chambre to -put in all you are likely to need, your plain clothes and -your uniform. On grand occasions you must wear your uniform -that will look very well. Do not forget your crosses. They -still laugh at them in France, and yet always wear them, for -all that." -"Very well, very well," said the major, who was in ecstasy -at the attention paid him by the count. -"Now," said Monte Cristo, "that you have fortified yourself -against all painful excitement, prepare yourself, my dear M. -Cavalcanti, to meet your lost Andrea." Saying which Monte -Cristo bowed, and disappeared behind the tapestry, leaving -the major fascinated beyond expression with the delightful -reception which he had received at the hands of the count. -Chapter -Andrea Cavalcanti. -The Count of Monte Cristo entered the adjoining room, which -Baptistin had designated as the drawingroom, and found -there a young man, of graceful demeanor and elegant -appearance, who had arrived in a cab about half an hour -previously. Baptistin had not found any difficulty in -recognizing the person who presented himself at the door for -admittance. He was certainly the tall young man with light -hair, red beard, black eyes, and brilliant complexion, whom -his master had so particularly described to him. When the -count entered the room the young man was carelessly -stretched on a sofa, tapping his boot with the goldheaded -cane which he held in his hand. On perceiving the count he -rose quickly. "The Count of Monte Cristo, I believe?" said -he. -"Yes, sir, and I think I have the honor of addressing Count -Andrea Cavalcanti?" -"Count Andrea Cavalcanti," repeated the young man, -accompanying his words with a bow. -"You are charged with a letter of introduction addressed to -me, are you not?" said the count. -"I did not mention that, because the signature seemed to me -so strange." -"The letter signed "Sinbad the Sailor,' is it not?" -"Exactly so. Now, as I have never known any Sinbad, with the -exception of the one celebrated in the "Thousand and One -Nights'" -"Well, it is one of his descendants, and a great friend of -mine he is a very rich Englishman, eccentric almost to -insanity, and his real name is Lord Wilmore." -"Ah, indeed? Then that explains everything that is -extraordinary," said Andrea. "He is, then, the same -Englishman whom I met at ah yes, indeed. Well, -monsieur, I am at your service." -"If what you say be true," replied the count, smiling, -"perhaps you will be kind enough to give me some account of -yourself and your family?" -"Certainly, I will do so," said the young man, with a -quickness which gave proof of his ready invention. "I am as -you have said the Count Andrea Cavalcanti, son of Major -Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, a descendant of the Cavalcanti whose -names are inscribed in the golden book at Florence. Our -family, although still rich for my father's income amounts -to half a million, has experienced many misfortunes, and I -myself was, at the age of five years, taken away by the -treachery of my tutor, so that for fifteen years I have not -seen the author of my existence. Since I have arrived at -years of discretion and become my own master, I have been -constantly seeking him, but all in vain. At length I -received this letter from your friend, which states that my -father is in Paris, and authorizes me to address myself to -you for information respecting him." -"Really, all you have related to me is exceedingly -interesting," said Monte Cristo, observing the young man -with a gloomy satisfaction "and you have done well to -conform in everything to the wishes of my friend Sinbad for -your father is indeed here, and is seeking you." -The count from the moment of first entering the -drawingroom, had not once lost sight of the expression of -the young man's countenance he had admired the assurance of -his look and the firmness of his voice but at these words, -so natural in themselves, "Your father is indeed here, and -is seeking you," young Andrea started, and exclaimed, "My -father? Is my father here?" -"Most undoubtedly," replied Monte Cristo "your father, -Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti." The expression of terror -which, for the moment, had overspread the features of the -young man, had now disappeared. "Ah, yes, that is the name, -certainly. Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti. And you really mean -to say monsieur, that my dear father is here?" -"Yes, sir and I can even add that I have only just left his -company. The history which he related to me of his lost son -touched me to the quick indeed, his griefs, hopes, and -fears on that subject might furnish material for a most -touching and pathetic poem. At length, he one day received a -letter, stating that the abductors of his son now offered to -restore him, or at least to give notice where he might be -found, on condition of receiving a large sum of money, by -way of ransom. Your father did not hesitate an instant, and -the sum was sent to the frontier of Piedmont, with a -passport signed for Italy. You were in the south of France, -I think?" -"Yes," replied Andrea, with an embarrassed air, "I was in -the south of France." -"A carriage was to await you at Nice?" -"Precisely so and it conveyed me from Nice to Genoa, from -Genoa to Turin, from Turin to Chambery, from Chambery to -PontdeBeauvoisin, and from PontdeBeauvoisin to Paris." -"Indeed? Then your father ought to have met with you on the -road, for it is exactly the same route which he himself -took, and that is how we have been able to trace your -journey to this place." -"But," said Andrea, "if my father had met me, I doubt if he -would have recognized me I must be somewhat altered since -he last saw me." -"Oh, the voice of nature," said Monte Cristo. -"True," interrupted the young man, "I had not looked upon it -in that light." -"Now," replied Monte Cristo "there is only one source of -uneasiness left in your father's mind, which is this he -is anxious to know how you have been employed during your -long absence from him, how you have been treated by your -persecutors, and if they have conducted themselves towards -you with all the deference due to your rank. Finally, he is -anxious to see if you have been fortunate enough to escape -the bad moral influence to which you have been exposed, and -which is infinitely more to be dreaded than any physical -suffering he wishes to discover if the fine abilities with -which nature had endowed you have been weakened by want of -culture and, in short, whether you consider yourself -capable of resuming and retaining in the world the high -position to which your rank entitles you." -"Sir" exclaimed the young man, quite astounded, "I hope no -false report" -"As for myself, I first heard you spoken of by my friend -Wilmore, the philanthropist. I believe he found you in some -unpleasant position, but do not know of what nature, for I -did not ask, not being inquisitive. Your misfortunes engaged -his sympathies, so you see you must have been interesting. -He told me that he was anxious to restore you to the -position which you had lost, and that he would seek your -father until he found him. He did seek, and has found him, -apparently, since he is here now and, finally, my friend -apprised me of your coming, and gave me a few other -instructions relative to your future fortune. I am quite -aware that my friend Wilmore is peculiar, but he is sincere, -and as rich as a goldmine, consequently, he may indulge his -eccentricities without any fear of their ruining him, and I -have promised to adhere to his instructions. Now, sir, pray -do not be offended at the question I am about to put to you, -as it comes in the way of my duty as your patron. I would -wish to know if the misfortunes which have happened to you -misfortunes entirely beyond your control, and which in no -degree diminish my regard for you I would wish to know if -they have not, in some measure, contributed to render you a -stranger to the world in which your fortune and your name -entitle you to make a conspicuous figure?" -"Sir," returned the young man, with a reassurance of manner, -"make your mind easy on this score. Those who took me from -my father, and who always intended, sooner or later, to sell -me again to my original proprietor, as they have now done, -calculated that, in order to make the most of their bargain, -it would be politic to leave me in possession of all my -personal and hereditary worth, and even to increase the -value, if possible. I have, therefore, received a very good -education, and have been treated by these kidnappers very -much as the slaves were treated in Asia Minor, whose masters -made them grammarians, doctors, and philosophers, in order -that they might fetch a higher price in the Roman market." -Monte Cristo smiled with satisfaction it appeared as if he -had not expected so much from M. Andrea Cavalcanti. -"Besides," continued the young man, "if there did appear -some defect in education, or offence against the established -forms of etiquette, I suppose it would be excused, in -consideration of the misfortunes which accompanied my birth, -and followed me through my youth." -"Well," said Monte Cristo in an indifferent tone, "you will -do as you please, count, for you are the master of your own -actions, and are the person most concerned in the matter, -but if I were you, I would not divulge a word of these -adventures. Your history is quite a romance, and the world, -which delights in romances in yellow covers, strangely -mistrusts those which are bound in living parchment, even -though they be gilded like yourself. This is the kind of -difficulty which I wished to represent to you, my dear -count. You would hardly have recited your touching history -before it would go forth to the world, and be deemed -unlikely and unnatural. You would be no longer a lost child -found, but you would be looked upon as an upstart, who had -sprung up like a mushroom in the night. You might excite a -little curiosity, but it is not every one who likes to be -made the centre of observation and the subject of unpleasant -remark." -"I agree with you, monsieur," said the young man, turning -pale, and, in spite of himself, trembling beneath the -scrutinizing look of his companion, "such consequences would -be extremely unpleasant." -"Nevertheless, you must not exaggerate the evil," said Monte -Cristo, "for by endeavoring to avoid one fault you will fall -into another. You must resolve upon one simple and single -line of conduct, and for a man of your intelligence, this -plan is as easy as it is necessary you must form honorable -friendships, and by that means counteract the prejudice -which may attach to the obscurity of your former life." -Andrea visibly changed countenance. "I would offer myself as -your surety and friendly adviser," said Monte Cristo, "did I -not possess a moral distrust of my best friends, and a sort -of inclination to lead others to doubt them too therefore, -in departing from this rule, I should as the actors say be -playing a part quite out of my line, and should, therefore, -run the risk of being hissed, which would be an act of -folly." -"However, your excellency," said Andrea, "in consideration -of Lord Wilmore, by whom I was recommended to you " -"Yes, certainly," interrupted Monte Cristo "but Lord -Wilmore did not omit to inform me, my dear M. Andrea, that -the season of your youth was rather a stormy one. Ah," said -the count, watching Andrea's countenance, "I do not demand -any confession from you it is precisely to avoid that -necessity that your father was sent for from Lucca. You -shall soon see him. He is a little stiff and pompous in his -manner, and he is disfigured by his uniform but when it -becomes known that he has been for eighteen years in the -Austrian service, all that will be pardoned. We are not -generally very severe with the Austrians. In short, you will -find your father a very presentable person, I assure you." -"Ah, sir, you have given me confidence it is so long since -we were separated, that I have not the least remembrance of -him, and, besides, you know that in the eyes of the world a -large fortune covers all defects." -"He is a millionaire his income is , francs." -"Then," said the young man, with anxiety, "I shall be sure -to be placed in an agreeable position." -"One of the most agreeable possible, my dear sir he will -allow you an income of , livres per annum during the -whole time of your stay in Paris." -"Then in that case I shall always choose to remain there." -"You cannot control circumstances, my dear sir "man -proposes, and God disposes.'" Andrea sighed. "But," said he, -"so long as I do remain in Paris, and nothing forces me to -quit it, do you mean to tell me that I may rely on receiving -the sum you just now mentioned to me?" -"You may." -"Shall I receive it from my father?" asked Andrea, with some -uneasiness. -"Yes, you will receive it from your father personally, but -Lord Wilmore will be the security for the money. He has, at -the request of your father, opened an account of , -francs a month at M. Danglars', which is one of the safest -banks in Paris." -"And does my father mean to remain long in Paris?" asked -Andrea. -"Only a few days," replied Monte Cristo. "His service does -not allow him to absent himself more than two or three weeks -together." -"Ah, my dear father" exclaimed Andrea, evidently charmed -with the idea of his speedy departure. -"Therefore," said Monte Cristo feigning to mistake his -meaning "therefore I will not, for another instant, -retard the pleasure of your meeting. Are you prepared to -embrace your worthy father?" -"I hope you do not doubt it." -"Go, then, into the drawingroom, my young friend, where you -will find your father awaiting you." Andrea made a low bow -to the count, and entered the adjoining room. Monte Cristo -watched him till he disappeared, and then touched a spring -in a panel made to look like a picture, which, in sliding -partly from the frame, discovered to view a small opening, -so cleverly contrived that it revealed all that was passing -in the drawingroom now occupied by Cavalcanti and Andrea. -The young man closed the door behind him, and advanced -towards the major, who had risen when he heard steps -approaching him. "Ah, my dear father" said Andrea in a loud -voice, in order that the count might hear him in the next -room, "is it really you?" -"How do you do, my dear son?" said the major gravely. -"After so many years of painful separation," said Andrea, in -the same tone of voice, and glancing towards the door, "what -a happiness it is to meet again" -"Indeed it is, after so long a separation." -"Will you not embrace me, sir?" said Andrea. -"If you wish it, my son," said the major and the two men -embraced each other after the fashion of actors on the -stage that is to say, each rested his head on the other's -shoulder. -"Then we are once more reunited?" said Andrea. -"Once more," replied the major. -"Never more to be separated?" -"Why, as to that I think, my dear son, you must be by -this time so accustomed to France as to look upon it almost -as a second country." -"The fact is," said the young man, "that I should be -exceedingly grieved to leave it." -"As for me, you must know I cannot possibly live out of -Lucca therefore I shall return to Italy as soon as I can." -"But before you leave France, my dear father, I hope you -will put me in possession of the documents which will be -necessary to prove my descent." -"Certainly I am come expressly on that account it has cost -me much trouble to find you, but I had resolved on giving -them into your hands, and if I had to recommence my search, -it would occupy all the few remaining years of my life." -"Where are these papers, then?" -"Here they are." -Andrea seized the certificate of his father's marriage and -his own baptismal register, and after having opened them -with all the eagerness which might be expected under the -circumstances, he read them with a facility which proved -that he was accustomed to similar documents, and with an -expression which plainly denoted an unusual interest in the -contents. When he had perused the documents, an indefinable -expression of pleasure lighted up his countenance, and -looking at the major with a most peculiar smile, he said, in -very excellent Tuscan, "Then there is no longer any such -thing, in Italy as being condemned to the galleys?" The -major drew himself up to his full height. -"Why? what do you mean by that question?" -"I mean that if there were, it would be impossible to draw -up with impunity two such deeds as these. In France, my dear -sir, half such a piece of effrontery as that would cause you -to be quickly despatched to Toulon for five years, for -change of air." -"Will you be good enough to explain your meaning?" said the -major, endeavoring as much as possible to assume an air of -the greatest majesty. -"My dear M. Cavalcanti," said Andrea, taking the major by -the arm in a confidential manner, "how much are you paid for -being my father?" The major was about to speak, when Andrea -continued, in a low voice. -"Nonsense, I am going to set you an example of confidence, -they give me , francs a year to be your son -consequently, you can understand that it is not at all -likely I shall ever deny my parent." The major looked -anxiously around him. "Make yourself easy, we are quite -alone," said Andrea "besides, we are conversing in -Italian." -"Well, then," replied the major, "they paid me , francs -down." -"Monsieur Cavalcanti," said Andrea, "do you believe in fairy -tales?" -"I used not to do so, but I really feel now almost obliged -to have faith in them." -"You have, then, been induced to alter your opinion you -have had some proofs of their truth?" The major drew from -his pocket a handful of gold. "Most palpable proofs," said -he, "as you may perceive." -"You think, then, that I may rely on the count's promises?" -"Certainly I do." -"You are sure he will keep his word with me?" -"To the letter, but at the same time, remember, we must -continue to play our respective parts. I, as a tender -father" -"And I as a dutiful son, as they choose that I shall be -descended from you." -"Whom do you mean by they?" -"Ma foi, I can hardly tell, but I was alluding to those who -wrote the letter you received one, did you not?" -"Yes." -"From whom?" -"From a certain Abbe Busoni." -"Have you any knowledge of him?" -"No, I have never seen him." -"What did he say in the letter?" -"You will promise not to betray me?" -"Rest assured of that you well know that our interests are -the same." -"Then read for yourself" and the major gave a letter into -the young man's hand. Andrea read in a low voice -"You are poor a miserable old age awaits you. Would you -like to become rich, or at least independent? Set out -immediately for Paris, and demand of the Count of Monte -Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysees, No. , the son whom you -had by the Marchesa Corsinari, and who was taken from you at -five years of age. This son is named Andrea Cavalcanti. In -order that you may not doubt the kind intention of the -writer of this letter, you will find enclosed an order for -, francs, payable in Florence, at Signor Gozzi's also a -letter of introduction to the Count of Monte Cristo, on whom -I give you a draft of , francs. Remember to go to the -count on the th May at seven o'clock in the evening. -Signed -"Abbe Busoni." -"It is the same." -"What do you mean?" said the major. -"I was going to say that I received a letter almost to the -same effect." -"You?" -"Yes." -"From the Abbe Busoni?" -"No." -"From whom, then?" -"From an Englishman, called Lord Wilmore, who takes the name -of Sinbad the Sailor." -"And of whom you have no more knowledge than I of the Abbe -Busoni?" -"You are mistaken there I am ahead of you." -"You have seen him, then?" -"Yes, once." -"Where?" -"Ah, that is just what I cannot tell you if I did, I should -make you as wise as myself, which it is not my intention to -do." -"And what did the letter contain?" -"Read it." -""You are poor, and your future prospects are dark and -gloomy. Do you wish for a name? should you like to be rich, -and your own master?'" -"Ma foi," said the young man "was it possible there could -be two answers to such a question?" -"Take the postchaise which you will find waiting at the -Porte de Genes, as you enter Nice pass through Turin, -Chambery, and PontdeBeauvoisin. Go to the Count of Monte -Cristo, Avenue des Champs Elysees, on the th of May, at -seven o'clock in the evening, and demand of him your father. -You are the son of the Marchese Cavalcanti and the Marchesa -Oliva Corsinari. The marquis will give you some papers which -will certify this fact, and authorize you to appear under -that name in the Parisian world. As to your rank, an annual -income of , livres will enable you to support it -admirably. I enclose a draft for , livres, payable on M. -Ferrea, banker at Nice, and also a letter of introduction to -the Count of Monte Cristo, whom I have directed to supply -all your wants. -"Sinbad the Sailor." -"Humph," said the major "very good. You have seen the -count, you say?" -"I have only just left him " -"And has he conformed to all that the letter specified?" -"He has." -"Do you understand it?" -"Not in the least." -"There is a dupe somewhere." -"At all events, it is neither you nor I." -"Certainly not." -"Well, then" -"Why, it does not much concern us, do you think it does?" -"No I agree with you there. We must play the game to the -end, and consent to be blindfold." -"Ah, you shall see I promise you I will sustain my part to -admiration." -"I never once doubted your doing so." Monte Cristo chose -this moment for reentering the drawingroom. On hearing the -sound of his footsteps, the two men threw themselves in each -other's arms, and while they were in the midst of this -embrace, the count entered. "Well, marquis," said Monte -Cristo, "you appear to be in no way disappointed in the son -whom your good fortune has restored to you." -"Ah, your excellency, I am overwhelmed with delight." -"And what are your feelings?" said Monte Cristo, turning to -the young man. -"As for me, my heart is overflowing with happiness." -"Happy father, happy son" said the count. -"There is only one thing which grieves me," observed the -major, "and that is the necessity for my leaving Paris so -soon." -"Ah, my dear M. Cavalcanti, I trust you will not leave -before I have had the honor of presenting you to some of my -friends." -"I am at your service, sir," replied the major. -"Now, sir," said Monte Cristo, addressing Andrea, "make your -confession." -"To whom?" -"Tell M. Cavalcanti something of the state of your -finances." -"Ma foi, monsieur, you have touched upon a tender chord." -"Do you hear what he says, major?" -"Certainly I do." -"But do you understand?" -"I do." -"Your son says he requires money." -"Well, what would you have me do?" said the major. -"You should furnish him with some of course," replied Monte -Cristo. -"I?" -"Yes, you," said the count, at the same time advancing -towards Andrea, and slipping a packet of banknotes into the -young man's hand. -"What is this?" -"It is from your father." -"From my father?" -"Yes did you not tell him just now that you wanted money? -Well, then, he deputes me to give you this." -"Am I to consider this as part of my income on account?" -"No, it is for the first expenses of your settling in -Paris." -"Ah, how good my dear father is" -"Silence," said Monte Cristo "he does not wish you to know -that it comes from him." -"I fully appreciate his delicacy," said Andrea, cramming the -notes hastily into his pocket. -"And now, gentlemen, I wish you goodmorning," said Monte -Cristo. -"And when shall we have the honor of seeing you again, your -excellency?" asked Cavalcanti. -"Ah," said Andrea, "when may we hope for that pleasure?" -"On Saturday, if you will Yes. Let me see Saturday -I am to dine at my country house, at Auteuil, on that -day, Rue de la Fontaine, No. . Several persons are -invited, and among others, M. Danglars, your banker. I will -introduce you to him, for it will be necessary he should -know you, as he is to pay your money." -"Full dress?" said the major, half aloud. -"Oh, yes, certainly," said the count "uniform, cross, -kneebreeches." -"And how shall I be dressed?" demanded Andrea. -"Oh, very simply black trousers, patent leather boots, -white waistcoat, either a black or blue coat, and a long -cravat. Go to Blin or Veronique for your clothes. Baptistin -will tell you where, if you do not know their address. The -less pretension there is in your attire, the better will be -the effect, as you are a rich man. If you mean to buy any -horses, get them of Devedeux, and if you purchase a phaeton, -go to Baptiste for it." -"At what hour shall we come?" asked the young man. -"About halfpast six." -"We will be with you at that time," said the major. The two -Cavalcanti bowed to the count, and left the house. Monte -Cristo went to the window, and saw them crossing the street, -arm in arm. "There go two miscreants" said he, "it is a -pity they are not really related" then, after an instant -of gloomy reflection, "Come, I will go to see the Morrels," -said he "I think that disgust is even more sickening than -hatred." -Chapter -In the Lucerne Patch. -Our readers must now allow us to transport them again to the -enclosure surrounding M. de Villefort's house, and, behind -the gate, half screened from view by the large -chestnuttrees, which on all sides spread their luxuriant -branches, we shall find some people of our acquaintance. -This time Maximilian was the first to arrive. He was -intently watching for a shadow to appear among the trees, -and awaiting with anxiety the sound of a light step on the -gravel walk. At length, the longdesired sound was heard, -and instead of one figure, as he had expected, he perceived -that two were approaching him. The delay had been occasioned -by a visit from Madame Danglars and Eugenie, which had been -prolonged beyond the time at which Valentine was expected. -That she might not appear to fail in her promise to -Maximilian, she proposed to Mademoiselle Danglars that they -should take a walk in the garden, being anxious to show that -the delay, which was doubtless a cause of vexation to him, -was not occasioned by any neglect on her part. The young -man, with the intuitive perception of a lover, quickly -understood the circumstances in which she was involuntarily -placed, and he was comforted. Besides, although she avoided -coming within speaking distance, Valentine arranged so that -Maximilian could see her pass and repass, and each time she -went by, she managed, unperceived by her companion, to cast -an expressive look at the young man, which seemed to say, -"Have patience You see it is not my fault." And Maximilian -was patient, and employed himself in mentally contrasting -the two girls, one fair, with soft languishing eyes, a -figure gracefully bending like a weeping willow the other a -brunette, with a fierce and haughty expression, and as -straight as a poplar. It is unnecessary to state that, in -the eyes of the young man, Valentine did not suffer by the -contrast. In about half an hour the girls went away, and -Maximilian understood that Mademoiselle Danglars' visit had -at last come to an end. In a few minutes Valentine -reentered the garden alone. For fear that any one should be -observing her return, she walked slowly and instead of -immediately directing her steps towards the gate, she seated -herself on a bench, and, carefully casting her eyes around, -to convince herself that she was not watched, she presently -arose, and proceeded quickly to join Maximilian. -"Goodevening, Valentine," said a wellknown voice. -"Goodevening, Maximilian I know I have kept you waiting, -but you saw the cause of my delay." -"Yes, I recognized Mademoiselle Danglars. I was not aware -that you were so intimate with her." -"Who told you we were intimate, Maximilian?" -"No one, but you appeared to be so. From the manner in which -you walked and talked together, one would have thought you -were two schoolgirls telling your secrets to each other." -"We were having a confidential conversation," returned -Valentine "she was owning to me her repugnance to the -marriage with M. de Morcerf and I, on the other hand, was -confessing to her how wretched it made me to think of -marrying M. d'Epinay." -"Dear Valentine" -"That will account to you for the unreserved manner which -you observed between me and Eugenie, as in speaking of the -man whom I could not love, my thoughts involuntarily -reverted to him on whom my affections were fixed." -"Ah, how good you are to say so, Valentine You possess a -quality which can never belong to Mademoiselle Danglars. It -is that indefinable charm which is to a woman what perfume -is to the flower and flavor to the fruit, for the beauty of -either is not the only quality we seek." -"It is your love which makes you look upon everything in -that light." -"No, Valentine, I assure you such is not the case. I was -observing you both when you were walking in the garden, and, -on my honor, without at all wishing to depreciate the beauty -of Mademoiselle Danglars, I cannot understand how any man -can really love her." -"The fact is, Maximilian, that I was there, and my presence -had the effect of rendering you unjust in your comparison." -"No but tell me it is a question of simple curiosity, -and which was suggested by certain ideas passing in my mind -relative to Mademoiselle Danglars" -"I dare say it is something disparaging which you are going -to say. It only proves how little indulgence we may expect -from your sex," interrupted Valentine. -"You cannot, at least, deny that you are very harsh judges -of each other." -"If we are so, it is because we generally judge under the -influence of excitement. But return to your question." -"Does Mademoiselle Danglars object to this marriage with M. -de Morcerf on account of loving another?" -"I told you I was not on terms of strict intimacy with -Eugenie." -"Yes, but girls tell each other secrets without being -particularly intimate own, now, that you did question her -on the subject. Ah, I see you are smiling." -"If you are already aware of the conversation that passed, -the wooden partition which interposed between us and you has -proved but a slight security." -"Come, what did she say?" -"She told me that she loved no one," said Valentine "that -she disliked the idea of being married that she would -infinitely prefer leading an independent and unfettered -life and that she almost wished her father might lose his -fortune, that she might become an artist, like her friend, -Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly." -"Ah, you see" -"Well, what does that prove?" asked Valentine. -"Nothing," replied Maximilian. -"Then why did you smile?" -"Why, you know very well that you are reflecting on -yourself, Valentine." -"Do you want me to go away?" -"Ah, no, no. But do not let us lose time you are the -subject on which I wish to speak." -"True, we must be quick, for we have scarcely ten minutes -more to pass together." -"Ma foi," said Maximilian, in consternation. -"Yes, you are right I am but a poor friend to you. What a -life I cause you to lead, poor Maximilian, you who are -formed for happiness I bitterly reproach myself, I assure -you." -"Well, what does it signify, Valentine, so long as I am -satisfied, and feel that even this long and painful suspense -is amply repaid by five minutes of your society, or two -words from your lips? And I have also a deep conviction that -heaven would not have created two hearts, harmonizing as -ours do, and almost miraculously brought us together, to -separate us at last." -"Those are kind and cheering words. You must hope for us -both, Maximilian that will make me at least partly happy." -"But why must you leave me so soon?" -"I do not know particulars. I can only tell you that Madame -de Villefort sent to request my presence, as she had a -communication to make on which a part of my fortune -depended. Let them take my fortune, I am already too rich -and, perhaps, when they have taken it, they will leave me in -peace and quietness. You would love me as much if I were -poor, would you not, Maximilian?" -"Oh, I shall always love you. What should I care for either -riches or poverty, if my Valentine was near me, and I felt -certain that no one could deprive me of her? But do you not -fear that this communication may relate to your marriage?" -"I do not think that is the case." -"However it may be, Valentine, you must not be alarmed. I -assure you that, as long as I live, I shall never love any -one else" -"You think to reassure me when you say that, Maximilian." -"Pardon me, you are right. I am a brute. But I was going to -tell you that I met M. de Morcerf the other day." -"Well?" -"Monsieur Franz is his friend, you know." -"What then?" -"Monsieur de Morcerf has received a letter from Franz, -announcing his immediate return." Valentine turned pale, and -leaned her hand against the gate. "Ah heavens, if it were -that But no, the communication would not come through -Madame de Villefort." -"Why not?" -"Because I scarcely know why but it has appeared as if -Madame de Villefort secretly objected to the marriage, -although she did not choose openly to oppose it." -"Is it so? Then I feel as if I could adore Madame de -Villefort." -"Do not be in such a hurry to do that," said Valentine, with -a sad smile. -"If she objects to your marrying M. d'Epinay, she would be -all the more likely to listen to any other proposition." -"No, Maximilian, it is not suitors to which Madame de -Villefort objects, it is marriage itself." -"Marriage? If she dislikes that so much, why did she ever -marry herself?" -"You do not understand me, Maximilian. About a year ago, I -talked of retiring to a convent. Madame de Villefort, in -spite of all the remarks which she considered it her duty to -make, secretly approved of the proposition, my father -consented to it at her instigation, and it was only on -account of my poor grandfather that I finally abandoned the -project. You can form no idea of the expression of that old -man's eye when he looks at me, the only person in the world -whom he loves, and, I had almost said, by whom he is beloved -in return. When he learned my resolution, I shall never -forget the reproachful look which he cast on me, and the -tears of utter despair which chased each other down his -lifeless cheeks. Ah, Maximilian, I experienced, at that -moment, such remorse for my intention, that, throwing myself -at his feet, I exclaimed, "Forgive me, pray forgive me, -my dear grandfather they may do what they will with me, I -will never leave you.' When I had ceased speaking, he -thankfully raised his eyes to heaven, but without uttering a -word. Ah, Maximilian, I may have much to suffer, but I feel -as if my grandfather's look at that moment would more than -compensate for all." -"Dear Valentine, you are a perfect angel, and I am sure I do -not know what I sabring right and left among the Bedouins -can have done to merit your being revealed to me, unless, -indeed, heaven took into consideration the fact that the -victims of my sword were infidels. But tell me what interest -Madame de Villefort can have in your remaining unmarried?" -"Did I not tell you just now that I was rich, Maximilian -too rich? I possess nearly , livres in right of my -mother my grandfather and my grandmother, the Marquis and -Marquise de SaintMeran, will leave me as much, and M. -Noirtier evidently intends making me his heir. My brother -Edward, who inherits nothing from his mother, will, -therefore, be poor in comparison with me. Now, if I had -taken the veil, all this fortune would have descended to my -father, and, in reversion, to his son." -"Ah, how strange it seems that such a young and beautiful -woman should be so avaricious." -"It is not for herself that she is so, but for her son, and -what you regard as a vice becomes almost a virtue when -looked at in the light of maternal love." -"But could you not compromise matters, and give up a portion -of your fortune to her son?" -"How could I make such a proposition, especially to a woman -who always professes to be so entirely disinterested?" -"Valentine, I have always regarded our love in the light of -something sacred consequently, I have covered it with the -veil of respect, and hid it in the innermost recesses of my -soul. No human being, not even my sister, is aware of its -existence. Valentine, will you permit me to make a confidant -of a friend and reveal to him the love I bear you?" -Valentine started. "A friend, Maximilian and who is this -friend? I tremble to give my permission." -"Listen, Valentine. Have you never experienced for any one -that sudden and irresistible sympathy which made you feel as -if the object of it had been your old and familiar friend, -though, in reality, it was the first time you had ever met? -Nay, further, have you never endeavored to recall the time, -place, and circumstances of your former intercourse, and -failing in this attempt, have almost believed that your -spirits must have held converse with each other in some -state of being anterior to the present, and that you are -only now occupied in a reminiscence of the past?" -"Yes." -"Well, that is precisely the feeling which I experienced -when I first saw that extraordinary man." -"Extraordinary, did you say?" -"Yes." -"You have known him for some time, then?" -"Scarcely longer than eight or ten days." -"And do you call a man your friend whom you have only known -for eight or ten days? Ah, Maximilian, I had hoped you set a -higher value on the title of friend." -"Your logic is most powerful, Valentine, but say what you -will, I can never renounce the sentiment which has -instinctively taken possession of my mind. I feel as if it -were ordained that this man should be associated with all -the good which the future may have in store for me, and -sometimes it really seems as if his eye was able to see what -was to come, and his hand endowed with the power of -directing events according to his own will." -"He must be a prophet, then," said Valentine, smiling. -"Indeed," said Maximilian, "I have often been almost tempted -to attribute to him the gift of prophecy at all events, he -has a wonderful power of foretelling any future good." -"Ah," said Valentine in a mournful tone, "do let me see this -man, Maximilian he may tell me whether I shall ever be -loved sufficiently to make amends for all I have suffered." -"My poor girl, you know him already." -"I know him?" -"Yes it was he who saved the life of your stepmother and -her son." -"The Count of Monte Cristo?" -"The same." -"Ah," cried Valentine, "he is too much the friend of Madame -de Villefort ever to be mine." -"The friend of Madame de Villefort It cannot be surely, -Valentine, you are mistaken?" -"No, indeed, I am not for I assure you, his power over our -household is almost unlimited. Courted by my stepmother, -who regards him as the epitome of human wisdom admired by -my father, who says he has never before heard such sublime -ideas so eloquently expressed idolized by Edward, who, -notwithstanding his fear of the count's large black eyes, -runs to meet him the moment he arrives, and opens his hand, -in which he is sure to find some delightful present, M. -de Monte Cristo appears to exert a mysterious and almost -uncontrollable influence over all the members of our -family." -"If such be the case, my dear Valentine, you must yourself -have felt, or at all events will soon feel, the effects of -his presence. He meets Albert de Morcerf in Italy it is -to rescue him from the hands of the banditti he introduces -himself to Madame Danglars it is that he may give her a -royal present your stepmother and her son pass before his -door it is that his Nubian may save them from -destruction. This man evidently possesses the power of -influencing events, both as regards men and things. I never -saw more simple tastes united to greater magnificence. His -smile is so sweet when he addresses me, that I forget it -ever can be bitter to others. Ah, Valentine, tell me, if he -ever looked on you with one of those sweet smiles? if so, -depend on it, you will be happy." -"Me?" said the young girl, "he never even glances at me on -the contrary, if I accidentally cross his path, he appears -rather to avoid me. Ah, he is not generous, neither does he -possess that supernatural penetration which you attribute to -him, for if he did, he would have perceived that I was -unhappy and if he had been generous, seeing me sad and -solitary, he would have used his influence to my advantage, -and since, as you say, he resembles the sun, he would have -warmed my heart with one of his lifegiving rays. You say he -loves you, Maximilian how do you know that he does? All -would pay deference to an officer like you, with a fierce -mustache and a long sabre, but they think they may crush a -poor weeping girl with impunity." -"Ah, Valentine, I assure you you are mistaken." -"If it were otherwise if he treated me diplomatically -that is to say, like a man who wishes, by some means or -other, to obtain a footing in the house, so that he may -ultimately gain the power of dictating to its occupants -he would, if it had been but once, have honored me with the -smile which you extol so loudly but no, he saw that I was -unhappy, he understood that I could be of no use to him, and -therefore paid no attention to me whatever. Who knows but -that, in order to please Madame de Villefort and my father, -he may not persecute me by every means in his power? It is -not just that he should despise me so, without any reason. -Ah, forgive me," said Valentine, perceiving the effect which -her words were producing on Maximilian "I have done wrong, -for I have given utterance to thoughts concerning that man -which I did not even know existed in my heart. I do not deny -the influence of which you speak, or that I have not myself -experienced it, but with me it has been productive of evil -rather than good." -"Well, Valentine," said Morrel with a sigh, "we will not -discuss the matter further. I will not make a confidant of -him." -"Alas," said Valentine, "I see that I have given you pain. I -can only say how sincerely I ask pardon for having griefed -you. But, indeed, I am not prejudiced beyond the power of -conviction. Tell me what this Count of Monte Cristo has done -for you." -"I own that your question embarrasses me, Valentine, for I -cannot say that the count has rendered me any ostensible -service. Still, as I have already told you I have an -instinctive affection for him, the source of which I cannot -explain to you. Has the sun done anything for me? No he -warms me with his rays, and it is by his light that I see -you nothing more. Has such and such a perfume done -anything for me? No its odor charms one of my senses -that is all I can say when I am asked why I praise it. My -friendship for him is as strange and unaccountable as his -for me. A secret voice seems to whisper to me that there -must be something more than chance in this unexpected -reciprocity of friendship. In his most simple actions, as -well as in his most secret thoughts, I find a relation to my -own. You will perhaps smile at me when I tell you that, ever -since I have known this man, I have involuntarily -entertained the idea that all the good fortune which his -befallen me originated from him. However, I have managed to -live thirty years without this protection, you will say but -I will endeavor a little to illustrate my meaning. He -invited me to dine with him on Saturday, which was a very -natural thing for him to do. Well, what have I learned -since? That your mother and M. de Villefort are both coming -to this dinner. I shall meet them there, and who knows what -future advantages may result from the interview? This may -appear to you to be no unusual combination of circumstances -nevertheless, I perceive some hidden plot in the arrangement -something, in fact, more than is apparent on a casual -view of the subject. I believe that this singular man, who -appears to fathom the motives of every one, has purposely -arranged for me to meet M. and Madame de Villefort, and -sometimes, I confess, I have gone so far as to try to read -in his eyes whether he was in possession of the secret of -our love." -"My good friend," said Valentine, "I should take you for a -visionary, and should tremble for your reason, if I were -always to hear you talk in a strain similar to this. Is it -possible that you can see anything more than the merest -chance in this meeting? Pray reflect a little. My father, -who never goes out, has several times been on the point of -refusing this invitation Madame de Villefort, on the -contrary, is burning with the desire of seeing this -extraordinary nabob in his own house, therefore, she has -with great difficulty prevailed on my father to accompany -her. No, no it is as I have said, Maximilian, there is -no one in the world of whom I can ask help but yourself and -my grandfather, who is little better than a corpse." -"I see that you are right, logically speaking," said -Maximilian "but the gentle voice which usually has such -power over me fails to convince me today." -"I feel the same as regards yourself." said Valentine "and -I own that, if you have no stronger proof to give me" -"I have another," replied Maximilian "but I fear you will -deem it even more absurd than the first." -"So much the worse," said Valentine, smiling. -"It is, nevertheless, conclusive to my mind. My ten years of -service have also confirmed my ideas on the subject of -sudden inspirations, for I have several times owed my life -to a mysterious impulse which directed me to move at once -either to the right or to the left, in order to escape the -ball which killed the comrade fighting by my side, while it -left me unharmed." -"Dear Maximilian, why not attribute your escape to my -constant prayers for your safety? When you are away, I no -longer pray for myself, but for you." -"Yes, since you have known me," said Morrel, smiling "but -that cannot apply to the time previous to our acquaintance, -Valentine." -"You are very provoking, and will not give me credit for -anything but let me hear this second proof, which you -yourself own to be absurd." -"Well, look through this opening, and you will see the -beautiful new horse which I rode here." -"Ah, what a beautiful creature" cried Valentine "why did -you not bring him close to the gate, so that I could talk to -him and pat him?" -"He is, as you see, a very valuable animal," said -Maximilian. "You know that my means are limited, and that I -am what would be designated a man of moderate pretensions. -Well, I went to a horse dealer's, where I saw this -magnificent horse, which I have named Medeah. I asked the -price they told me it was , francs. I was, therefore, -obliged to give it up, as you may imagine, but I own I went -away with rather a heavy heart, for the horse had looked at -me affectionately, had rubbed his head against me and, when -I mounted him, had pranced in the most delightful way -imaginable, so that I was altogether fascinated with him. -The same evening some friends of mine visited me, M. de -ChateauRenaud, M. Debray, and five or six other choice -spirits, whom you do not know, even by name. They proposed a -game of bouillotte. I never play, for I am not rich enough -to afford to lose, or sufficiently poor to desire to gain. -But I was at my own house, you understand, so there was -nothing to be done but to send for the cards, which I did. -"Just as they were sitting down to table, M. de Monte Cristo -arrived. He took his seat amongst them they played, and I -won. I am almost ashamed to say that my gains amounted to -, francs. We separated at midnight. I could not defer my -pleasure, so I took a cabriolet and drove to the horse -dealer's. Feverish and excited, I rang at the door. The -person who opened it must have taken me for a madman, for I -rushed at once to the stable. Medeah was standing at the -rack, eating his hay. I immediately put on the saddle and -bridle, to which operation he lent himself with the best -grace possible then, putting the , francs into the -hands of the astonished dealer, I proceeded to fulfil my -intention of passing the night in riding in the Champs -Elysees. As I rode by the count's house I perceived a light -in one of the windows, and fancied I saw the shadow of his -figure moving behind the curtain. Now, Valentine, I firmly -believe that he knew of my wish to possess this horse, and -that he lost expressly to give me the means of procuring -him." -"My dear Maximilian, you are really too fanciful you will -not love even me long. A man who accustoms himself to live -in such a world of poetry and imagination must find far too -little excitement in a common, everyday sort of attachment -such as ours. But they are calling me. Do you hear?" -"Ah, Valentine," said Maximilian, "give me but one finger -through this opening in the grating, one finger, the -littlest finger of all, that I may have the happiness of -kissing it." -"Maximilian, we said we would be to each other as two -voices, two shadows." -"As you will, Valentine." -"Shall you be happy if I do what you wish?" -"Oh, yes" Valentine mounted on a bench, and passed not only -her finger but her whole hand through the opening. -Maximilian uttered a cry of delight, and, springing -forwards, seized the hand extended towards him, and -imprinted on it a fervent and impassioned kiss. The little -hand was then immediately withdrawn, and the young man saw -Valentine hurrying towards the house, as though she were -almost terrified at her own sensations. -Chapter -M. Noirtier de Villefort. -We will now relate what was passing in the house of the -king's attorney after the departure of Madame Danglars and -her daughter, and during the time of the conversation -between Maximilian and Valentine, which we have just -detailed. M. de Villefort entered his father's room, -followed by Madame de Villefort. Both of the visitors, after -saluting the old man and speaking to Barrois, a faithful -servant, who had been twentyfive years in his service, took -their places on either side of the paralytic. -M. Noirtier was sitting in an armchair, which moved upon -casters, in which he was wheeled into the room in the -morning, and in the same way drawn out again at night. He -was placed before a large glass, which reflected the whole -apartment, and so, without any attempt to move, which would -have been impossible, he could see all who entered the room -and everything which was going on around him. M. Noirtier, -although almost as immovable as a corpse, looked at the -newcomers with a quick and intelligent expression, -perceiving at once, by their ceremonious courtesy, that they -were come on business of an unexpected and official -character. Sight and hearing were the only senses remaining, -and they, like two solitary sparks, remained to animate the -miserable body which seemed fit for nothing but the grave -it was only, however, by means of one of these senses that -he could reveal the thoughts and feelings that still -occupied his mind, and the look by which he gave expression -to his inner life was like the distant gleam of a candle -which a traveller sees by night across some desert place, -and knows that a living being dwells beyond the silence and -obscurity. Noirtier's hair was long and white, and flowed -over his shoulders while in his eyes, shaded by thick black -lashes, was concentrated, as it often happens with an organ -which is used to the exclusion of the others, all the -activity, address, force, and intelligence which were -formerly diffused over his whole body and so although the -movement of the arm, the sound of the voice, and the agility -of the body, were wanting, the speaking eye sufficed for -all. He commanded with it it was the medium through which -his thanks were conveyed. In short, his whole appearance -produced on the mind the impression of a corpse with living -eyes, and nothing could be more startling than to observe -the expression of anger or joy suddenly lighting up these -organs, while the rest of the rigid and marblelike features -were utterly deprived of the power of participation. Three -persons only could understand this language of the poor -paralytic these were Villefort, Valentine, and the old -servant of whom we have already spoken. But as Villefort saw -his father but seldom, and then only when absolutely -obliged, and as he never took any pains to please or gratify -him when he was there, all the old man's happiness was -centred in his granddaughter. Valentine, by means of her -love, her patience, and her devotion, had learned to read in -Noirtier's look all the varied feelings which were passing -in his mind. To this dumb language, which was so -unintelligible to others, she answered by throwing her whole -soul into the expression of her countenance, and in this -manner were the conversations sustained between the blooming -girl and the helpless invalid, whose body could scarcely be -called a living one, but who, nevertheless, possessed a fund -of knowledge and penetration, united with a will as powerful -as ever although clogged by a body rendered utterly -incapable of obeying its impulses. Valentine had solved the -problem, and was able easily to understand his thoughts, and -to convey her own in return, and, through her untiring and -devoted assiduity, it was seldom that, in the ordinary -transactions of everyday life, she failed to anticipate the -wishes of the living, thinking mind, or the wants of the -almost inanimate body. As to the servant, he had, as we have -said, been with his master for five and twenty years, -therefore he knew all his habits, and it was seldom that -Noirtier found it necessary to ask for anything, so prompt -was he in administering to all the necessities of the -invalid. Villefort did not need the help of either Valentine -or the domestic in order to carry on with his father the -strange conversation which he was about to begin. As we have -said, he perfectly understood the old man's vocabulary, and -if he did not use it more often, it was only indifference -and ennui which prevented him from so doing. He therefore -allowed Valentine to go into the garden, sent away Barrois, -and after having seated himself at his father's right hand, -while Madame de Villefort placed herself on the left, he -addressed him thus -"I trust you will not be displeased, sir, that Valentine has -not come with us, or that I dismissed Barrois, for our -conference will be one which could not with propriety be -carried on in the presence of either. Madame de Villefort -and I have a communication to make to you." -Noirtier's face remained perfectly passive during this long -preamble, while, on the contrary, Villefort's eye was -endeavoring to penetrate into the inmost recesses of the old -man's heart. -"This communication," continued the procureur, in that cold -and decisive tone which seemed at once to preclude all -discussion, "will, we are sure, meet with your approbation." -The eye of the invalid still retained that vacancy of -expression which prevented his son from obtaining any -knowledge of the feelings which were passing in his mind he -listened, nothing more. "Sir," resumed Villefort, "we are -thinking of marrying Valentine." Had the old man's face been -moulded in wax it could not have shown less emotion at this -news than was now to be traced there. "The marriage will -take place in less than three months," said Villefort. -Noirtier's eye still retained its inanimate expression. -Madame de Villefort now took her part in the conversation -and added, "We thought this news would possess an -interest for you, sir, who have always entertained a great -affection for Valentine it therefore only now remains for -us to tell you the name of the young man for whom she is -destined. It is one of the most desirable connections which -could possibly be formed he possesses fortune, a high rank -in society, and every personal qualification likely to -render Valentine supremely happy, his name, moreover, -cannot be wholly unknown to you. It is M. Franz de Quesnel, -Baron d'Epinay." -While his wife was speaking, Villefort had narrowly watched -the old man's countenance. When Madame de Villefort -pronounced the name of Franz, the pupil of M. Noirtier's eye -began to dilate, and his eyelids trembled with the same -movement that may be perceived on the lips of an individual -about to speak, and he darted a lightning glance at Madame -de Villefort and his son. The procureur, who knew the -political hatred which had formerly existed between M. -Noirtier and the elder d'Epinay, well understood the -agitation and anger which the announcement had produced -but, feigning not to perceive either, he immediately resumed -the narrative begun by his wife. "Sir," said he, "you are -aware that Valentine is about to enter her nineteenth year, -which renders it important that she should lose no time in -forming a suitable alliance. Nevertheless, you have not been -forgotten in our plans, and we have fully ascertained -beforehand that Valentine's future husband will consent, not -to live in this house, for that might not be pleasant for -the young people, but that you should live with them so -that you and Valentine, who are so attached to each other, -would not be separated, and you would be able to pursue -exactly the same course of life which you have hitherto -done, and thus, instead of losing, you will be a gainer by -the change, as it will secure to you two children instead of -one, to watch over and comfort you." -Noirtier's look was furious it was very evident that -something desperate was passing in the old man's mind, for a -cry of anger and grief rose in his throat, and not being -able to find vent in utterance, appeared almost to choke -him, for his face and lips turned quite purple with the -struggle. Villefort quietly opened a window, saying, "It is -very warm, and the heat affects M. Noirtier." He then -returned to his place, but did not sit down. "This -marriage," added Madame de Villefort, "is quite agreeable to -the wishes of M. d'Epinay and his family besides, he had no -relations nearer than an uncle and aunt, his mother having -died at his birth, and his father having been assassinated -in , that is to say, when he was but two years old it -naturally followed that the child was permitted to choose -his own pursuits, and he has, therefore, seldom acknowledged -any other authority but that of his own will." -"That assassination was a mysterious affair," said -Villefort, "and the perpetrators have hitherto escaped -detection, although suspicion has fallen on the head of more -than one person." Noirtier made such an effort that his lips -expanded into a smile. -"Now," continued Villefort, "those to whom the guilt really -belongs, by whom the crime was committed, on whose heads the -justice of man may probably descend here, and the certain -judgment of God hereafter, would rejoice in the opportunity -thus afforded of bestowing such a peaceoffering as -Valentine on the son of him whose life they so ruthlessly -destroyed." Noirtier had succeeded in mastering his emotion -more than could have been deemed possible with such an -enfeebled and shattered frame. "Yes, I understand," was the -reply contained in his look and this look expressed a -feeling of strong indignation, mixed with profound contempt. -Villefort fully understood his father's meaning, and -answered by a slight shrug of his shoulders. He then -motioned to his wife to take leave. "Now sir," said Madame -de Villefort, "I must bid you farewell. Would you like me to -send Edward to you for a short time?" -It had been agreed that the old man should express his -approbation by closing his eyes, his refusal by winking them -several times, and if he had some desire or feeling to -express, he raised them to heaven. If he wanted Valentine, -he closed his right eye only, and if Barrois, the left. At -Madame de Villefort's proposition he instantly winked his -eyes. Provoked by a complete refusal, she bit her lip and -said, "Then shall I send Valentine to you?" The old man -closed his eyes eagerly, thereby intimating that such was -his wish. M. and Madame de Villefort bowed and left the -room, giving orders that Valentine should be summoned to her -grandfather's presence, and feeling sure that she would have -much to do to restore calmness to the perturbed spirit of -the invalid. Valentine, with a color still heightened by -emotion, entered the room just after her parents had quitted -it. One look was sufficient to tell her that her grandfather -was suffering, and that there was much on his mind which he -was wishing to communicate to her. "Dear grandpapa," cried -she, "what has happened? They have vexed you, and you are -angry?" The paralytic closed his eyes in token of assent. -"Who has displeased you? Is it my father?" -"No." -"Madame de Villefort?" -"No." -"Me?" The former sign was repeated. "Are you displeased with -me?" cried Valentine in astonishment. M. Noirtier again -closed his eyes. "And what have I done, dear grandpapa, that -you should be angry with me?" cried Valentine. -There was no answer, and she continued. "I have not seen you -all day. Has any one been speaking to you against me?" -"Yes," said the old man's look, with eagerness. -"Let me think a moment. I do assure you, grandpapa Ah -M. and Madame de Villefort have just left this room, have -they not?" -"Yes." -"And it was they who told you something which made you -angry? What was it then? May I go and ask them, that I may -have the opportunity of making my peace with you?" -"No, no," said Noirtier's look. -"Ah, you frighten me. What can they have said?" and she -again tried to think what it could be. -"Ah, I know," said she, lowering her voice and going close -to the old man. "They have been speaking of my marriage, -have they not?" -"Yes," replied the angry look. -"I understand you are displeased at the silence I have -preserved on the subject. The reason of it was, that they -had insisted on my keeping the matter a secret, and begged -me not to tell you anything of it. They did not even -acquaint me with their intentions, and I only discovered -them by chance, that is why I have been so reserved with -you, dear grandpapa. Pray forgive me." But there was no look -calculated to reassure her all it seemed to say was, "It is -not only your reserve which afflicts me." -"What is it, then?" asked the young girl. "Perhaps you think -I shall abandon you, dear grandpapa, and that I shall forget -you when I am married?" -"No." -"They told you, then, that M. d'Epinay consented to our all -living together?" -"Yes." -"Then why are you still vexed and grieved?" The old man's -eyes beamed with an expression of gentle affection. "Yes, I -understand," said Valentine "it is because you love me." -The old man assented. "And you are afraid I shall be -unhappy?" -"Yes." -"You do not like M. Franz?" The eyes repeated several times, -"No, no, no." -"Then you are vexed with the engagement?" -"Yes." -"Well, listen," said Valentine, throwing herself on her -knees, and putting her arm round her grandfather's neck, "I -am vexed, too, for I do not love M. Franz d'Epinay." An -expression of intense joy illumined the old man's eyes. -"When I wished to retire into a convent, you remember how -angry you were with me?" A tear trembled in the eye of the -invalid. "Well," continued Valentine, "the reason of my -proposing it was that I might escape this hateful marriage, -which drives me to despair." Noirtier's breathing came thick -and short. "Then the idea of this marriage really grieves -you too? Ah, if you could but help me if we could both -together defeat their plan But you are unable to oppose -them, you, whose mind is so quick, and whose will is so -firm are nevertheless, as weak and unequal to the contest as -I am myself. Alas, you, who would have been such a powerful -protector to me in the days of your health and strength, can -now only sympathize in my joys and sorrows, without being -able to take any active part in them. However, this is much, -and calls for gratitude and heaven has not taken away all my -blessings when it leaves me your sympathy and kindness." -At these words there appeared in Noirtier's eye an -expression of such deep meaning that the young girl thought -she could read these words there "You are mistaken I can -still do much for you." -"Do you think you can help me, dear grandpapa?" said -Valentine. -"Yes." Noirtier raised his eyes, it was the sign agreed on -between him and Valentine when he wanted anything. -"What is it you want, dear grandpapa?" said Valentine, and -she endeavored to recall to mind all the things which he -would be likely to need and as the ideas presented -themselves to her mind, she repeated them aloud, then, -finding that all her efforts elicited nothing but a constant -"No," she said, "Come, since this plan does not answer, I -will have recourse to another." She then recited all the -letters of the alphabet from A down to N. When she arrived -at that letter the paralytic made her understand that she -had spoken the initial letter of the thing he wanted. "Ah," -said Valentine, "the thing you desire begins with the letter -N it is with N that we have to do, then. Well, let me see, -what can you want that begins with N? Na Ne Ni No" -"Yes, yes, yes," said the old man's eye. -"Ah, it is No, then?" -"Yes." Valentine fetched a dictionary, which she placed on a -desk before Noirtier she opened it, and, seeing that the -odd man's eye was thoroughly fixed on its pages, she ran her -finger quickly up and down the columns. During the six years -which had passed since Noirtier first fell into this sad -state, Valentine's powers of invention had been too often -put to the test not to render her expert in devising -expedients for gaining a knowledge of his wishes, and the -constant practice had so perfected her in the art that she -guessed the old man's meaning as quickly as if he himself -had been able to seek for what he wanted. At the word -"Notary," Noirtier made a sign to her to stop. "Notary," -said she, "do you want a notary, dear grandpapa?" The old -man again signified that it was a notary he desired. -"You would wish a notary to be sent for then?" said -Valentine. -"Yes." -"Shall my father be informed of your wish?" -"Yes." -"Do you wish the notary to be sent for immediately?" -"Yes." -"Then they shall go for him directly, dear grandpapa. Is -that all you want?" -"Yes." Valentine rang the bell, and ordered the servant to -tell Monsieur or Madame de Villefort that they were -requested to come to M. Noirtier's room. "Are you satisfied -now?" inquired Valentine. -"Yes." -"I am sure you are it is not very difficult to discover -that," and the young girl smiled on her grandfather, as -if he had been a child. M. de Villefort entered, followed by -Barrois. "What do you want me for, sir?" demanded he of the -paralytic. -"Sir," said Valentine, "my grandfather wishes for a notary." -At this strange and unexpected demand M. de Villefort and -his father exchanged looks. "Yes," motioned the latter, with -a firmness which seemed to declare that with the help of -Valentine and his old servant, who both knew what his wishes -were, he was quite prepared to maintain the contest. "Do you -wish for a notary?" asked Villefort. -"Yes." -"What to do?" -Noirtier made no answer. "What do you want with a notary?" -again repeated Villefort. The invalid's eye remained fixed, -by which expression he intended to intimate that his -resolution was unalterable. "Is it to do us some ill turn? -Do you think it is worth while?" said Villefort. -"Still," said Barrois, with the freedom and fidelity of an -old servant, "if M. Noirtier asks for a notary, I suppose he -really wishes for a notary therefore I shall go at once and -fetch one." Barrois acknowledged no master but Noirtier, and -never allowed his desires in any way to be contradicted. -"Yes, I do want a notary," motioned the old man, shutting -his eyes with a look of defiance, which seemed to say, "and -I should like to see the person who dares to refuse my -request." -"You shall have a notary, as you absolutely wish for one, -sir," said Villefort "but I shall explain to him your state -of health, and make excuses for you, for the scene cannot -fail of being a most ridiculous one." -"Never mind that," said Barrois "I shall go and fetch a -notary, nevertheless," and the old servant departed -triumphantly on his mission. -Chapter -The Will. -As soon as Barrois had left the room, Noirtier looked at -Valentine with a malicious expression that said many things. -The young girl perfectly understood the look, and so did -Villefort, for his countenance became clouded, and he -knitted his eyebrows angrily. He took a seat, and quietly -awaited the arrival of the notary. Noirtier saw him seat -himself with an appearance of perfect indifference, at the -same time giving a side look at Valentine, which made her -understand that she also was to remain in the room. -Threequarters of an hour after, Barrois returned, bringing -the notary with him. "Sir," said Villefort, after the first -salutations were over, "you were sent for by M. Noirtier, -whom you see here. All his limbs have become completely -paralysed, he has lost his voice also, and we ourselves find -much trouble in endeavoring to catch some fragments of his -meaning." Noirtier cast an appealing look on Valentine, -which look was at once so earnest and imperative, that she -answered immediately. "Sir," said she, "I perfectly -understand my grandfather's meaning at all times." -"That is quite true," said Barrois "and that is what I told -the gentleman as we walked along." -"Permit me," said the notary, turning first to Villefort and -then to Valentine "permit me to state that the case in -question is just one of those in which a public officer like -myself cannot proceed to act without thereby incurring a -dangerous responsibility. The first thing necessary to -render an act valid is, that the notary should be thoroughly -convinced that he has faithfully interpreted the will and -wishes of the person dictating the act. Now I cannot be sure -of the approbation or disapprobation of a client who cannot -speak, and as the object of his desire or his repugnance -cannot be clearly proved to me, on account of his want of -speech, my services here would be quite useless, and cannot -be legally exercised." The notary then prepared to retire. -An imperceptible smile of triumph was expressed on the lips -of the procureur. Noirtier looked at Valentine with an -expression so full of grief, that she arrested the departure -of the notary. "Sir," said she, "the language which I speak -with my grandfather may be easily learnt, and I can teach -you in a few minutes, to understand it almost as well as I -can myself. Will you tell me what you require, in order to -set your conscience quite at ease on the subject?" -"In order to render an act valid, I must be certain of the -approbation or disapprobation of my client. Illness of body -would not affect the validity of the deed, but sanity of -mind is absolutely requisite." -"Well, sir, by the help of two signs, with which I will -acquaint you presently, you may ascertain with perfect -certainty that my grandfather is still in the full -possession of all his mental faculties. M. Noirtier, being -deprived of voice and motion, is accustomed to convey his -meaning by closing his eyes when he wishes to signify "yes,' -and to wink when he means "no.' You now know quite enough to -enable you to converse with M. Noirtier try." Noirtier -gave Valentine such a look of tenderness and gratitude that -it was comprehended even by the notary himself. "You have -heard and understood what your granddaughter has been -saying, sir, have you?" asked the notary. Noirtier closed -his eyes. "And you approve of what she said that is to -say, you declare that the signs which she mentioned are -really those by means of which you are accustomed to convey -your thoughts?" -"Yes." -"It was you who sent for me?" -"Yes." -"To make your will?" -"Yes." -"And you do not wish me to go away without fulfilling your -original intentions?" The old man winked violently. "Well, -sir," said the young girl, "do you understand now, and is -your conscience perfectly at rest on the subject?" But -before the notary could answer, Villefort had drawn him -aside. "Sir," said he, "do you suppose for a moment that a -man can sustain a physical shock, such as M. Noirtier has -received, without any detriment to his mental faculties?" -"It is not exactly that, sir," said the notary, "which makes -me uneasy, but the difficulty will be in wording his -thoughts and intentions, so as to be able to get his -answers." -"You must see that to be an utter impossibility," said -Villefort. Valentine and the old man heard this -conversation, and Noirtier fixed his eye so earnestly on -Valentine that she felt bound to answer to the look. -"Sir," said she, "that need not make you uneasy, however -difficult it may at first sight appear to be. I can discover -and explain to you my grandfather's thoughts, so as to put -an end to all your doubts and fears on the subject. I have -now been six years with M. Noirtier, and let him tell you if -ever once, during that time, he has entertained a thought -which he was unable to make me understand." -"No," signed the old man. -"Let us try what we can do, then," said the notary. "You -accept this young lady as your interpreter, M. Noirtier?" -"Yes." -"Well, sir, what do you require of me, and what document is -it that you wish to be drawn up?" Valentine named all the -letters of the alphabet until she came to W. At this letter -the eloquent eye of Noirtier gave her notice that she was to -stop. "It is very evident that it is the letter W which M. -Noirtier wants," said the notary. "Wait," said Valentine -and, turning to her grandfather, she repeated, "Wa We -Wi" The old man stopped her at the last syllable. -Valentine then took the dictionary, and the notary watched -her while she turned over the pages. She passed her finger -slowly down the columns, and when she came to the word -"Will," M. Noirtier's eye bade her stop. "Will," said the -notary "it is very evident that M. Noirtier is desirous of -making his will." -"Yes, yes, yes," motioned the invalid. -"Really, sir, you must allow that this is most -extraordinary," said the astonished notary, turning to M. de -Villefort. "Yes," said the procureur, "and I think the will -promises to be yet more extraordinary, for I cannot see how -it is to be drawn up without the intervention of Valentine, -and she may, perhaps, be considered as too much interested -in its contents to allow of her being a suitable interpreter -of the obscure and illdefined wishes of her grandfather." -"No, no, no," replied the eye of the paralytic. -"What?" said Villefort, "do you mean to say that Valentine -is not interested in your will?" -"No." -"Sir," said the notary, whose interest had been greatly -excited, and who had resolved on publishing far and wide the -account of this extraordinary and picturesque scene, "what -appeared so impossible to me an hour ago, has now become -quite easy and practicable, and this may be a perfectly -valid will, provided it be read in the presence of seven -witnesses, approved by the testator, and sealed by the -notary in the presence of the witnesses. As to the time, it -will not require very much more than the generality of -wills. There are certain forms necessary to be gone through, -and which are always the same. As to the details, the -greater part will be furnished afterwards by the state in -which we find the affairs of the testator, and by yourself, -who, having had the management of them, can doubtless give -full information on the subject. But besides all this, in -order that the instrument may not be contested, I am anxious -to give it the greatest possible authenticity, therefore, -one of my colleagues will help me, and, contrary to custom, -will assist in the dictation of the testament. Are you -satisfied, sir?" continued the notary, addressing the old -man. -"Yes," looked the invalid, his eye beaming with delight at -the ready interpretation of his meaning. -"What is he going to do?" thought Villefort, whose position -demanded much reserve, but who was longing to know what his -father's intentions were. He left the room to give orders -for another notary to be sent, but Barrois, who had heard -all that passed, had guessed his master's wishes, and had -already gone to fetch one. The procureur then told his wife -to come up. In the course of a quarter of an hour every one -had assembled in the chamber of the paralytic the second -notary had also arrived. A few words sufficed for a mutual -understanding between the two officers of the law. They read -to Noirtier the formal copy of a will, in order to give him -an idea of the terms in which such documents are generally -couched then, in order to test the capacity of the -testator, the first notary said, turning towards him, -"When an individual makes his will, it is generally in favor -or in prejudice of some person." -"Yes." -"Have you an exact idea of the amount of your fortune?" -"Yes." -"I will name to you several sums which will increase by -gradation you will stop me when I reach the one -representing the amount of your own possessions?" -"Yes." There was a kind of solemnity in this interrogation. -Never had the struggle between mind and matter been more -apparent than now, and if it was not a sublime, it was, at -least, a curious spectacle. They had formed a circle round -the invalid the second notary was sitting at a table, -prepared for writing, and his colleague was standing before -the testator in the act of interrogating him on the subject -to which we have alluded. "Your fortune exceeds , -francs, does it not?" asked he. Noirtier made a sign that it -did. "Do you possess , francs?" inquired the notary. -Noirtier's eye remained immovable. "Five hundred thousand?" -The same expression continued. "Six hundred thousand -, , ,?" Noirtier stopped him at the -lastnamed sum. "You are then in possession of , -francs?" asked the notary. "Yes." -"In landed property?" -"No." -"In stock?" -"Yes." -"The stock is in your own hands?" The look which M. Noirtier -cast on Barrois showed that there was something wanting -which he knew where to find. The old servant left the room, -and presently returned, bringing with him a small casket. -"Do you permit us to open this casket?" asked the notary. -Noirtier gave his assent. They opened it, and found , -francs in bank scrip. The first notary handed over each -note, as he examined it, to his colleague. -The total amount was found to be as M. Noirtier had stated. -"It is all as he has said it is very evident that the mind -still retains its full force and vigor." Then, turning -towards the paralytic, he said, "You possess, then, , -francs of capital, which, according to the manner in which -you have invested it, ought to bring in an income of about -, livres?" -"Yes." -"To whom do you desire to leave this fortune?" -"Oh," said Madame de Villefort, "there is not much doubt on -that subject. M. Noirtier tenderly loves his granddaughter, -Mademoiselle de Villefort it is she who has nursed and -tended him for six years, and has, by her devoted attention, -fully secured the affection, I had almost said the -gratitude, of her grandfather, and it is but just that she -should reap the fruit of her devotion." The eye of Noirtier -clearly showed by its expression that he was not deceived by -the false assent given by Madame de Villefort's words and -manner to the motives which she supposed him to entertain. -"Is it, then, to Mademoiselle Valentine de Villefort that -you leave these , francs?" demanded the notary, -thinking he had only to insert this clause, but waiting -first for the assent of Noirtier, which it was necessary -should be given before all the witnesses of this singular -scene. Valentine, when her name was made the subject of -discussion, had stepped back, to escape unpleasant -observation her eyes were cast down, and she was crying. -The old man looked at her for an instant with an expression -of the deepest tenderness, then, turning towards the notary, -he significantly winked his eye in token of dissent. -"What," said the notary, "do you not intend making -Mademoiselle Valentine de Villefort your residuary legatee?" -"No." -"You are not making any mistake, are you?" said the notary -"you really mean to declare that such is not your -intention?" -"No," repeated Noirtier "No." Valentine raised her head, -struck dumb with astonishment. It was not so much the -conviction that she was disinherited that caused her grief, -but her total inability to account for the feelings which -had provoked her grandfather to such an act. But Noirtier -looked at her with so much affectionate tenderness that she -exclaimed, "Oh, grandpapa, I see now that it is only your -fortune of which you deprive me you still leave me the love -which I have always enjoyed." -"Ah, yes, most assuredly," said the eyes of the paralytic, -for he closed them with an expression which Valentine could -not mistake. "Thank you, thank you," murmured she. The old -man's declaration that Valentine was not the destined -inheritor of his fortune had excited the hopes of Madame de -Villefort she gradually approached the invalid, and said -"Then, doubtless, dear M. Noirtier, you intend leaving your -fortune to your grandson, Edward de Villefort?" The winking -of the eyes which answered this speech was most decided and -terrible, and expressed a feeling almost amounting to -hatred. -"No?" said the notary "then, perhaps, it is to your son, M. -de Villefort?" -"No." The two notaries looked at each other in mute -astonishment and inquiry as to what were the real intentions -of the testator. Villefort and his wife both grew red, one -from shame, the other from anger. -"What have we all done, then, dear grandpapa?" said -Valentine "you no longer seem to love any of us?" The old -man's eyes passed rapidly from Villefort and his wife, and -rested on Valentine with a look of unutterable fondness. -"Well," said she "if you love me, grandpapa, try and bring -that love to bear upon your actions at this present moment. -You know me well enough to be quite sure that I have never -thought of your fortune besides, they say I am already rich -in right of my mother too rich, even. Explain yourself, -then." Noirtier fixed his intelligent eyes on Valentine's -hand. "My hand?" said she. -"Yes." -"Her hand" exclaimed every one. -"Oh, gentlemen, you see it is all useless, and that my -father's mind is really impaired," said Villefort. -"Ah," cried Valentine suddenly, "I understand. It is my -marriage you mean, is it not, dear grandpapa?" -"Yes, yes, yes," signed the paralytic, casting on Valentine -a look of joyful gratitude for having guessed his meaning. -"You are angry with us all on account of this marriage, are -you not?" -"Yes?" -"Really, this is too absurd," said Villefort. -"Excuse me, sir," replied the notary "on the contrary, the -meaning of M. Noirtier is quite evident to me, and I can -quite easily connect the train of ideas passing in his -mind." -"You do not wish me to marry M. Franz d'Epinay?" observed -Valentine. -"I do not wish it," said the eye of her grandfather. "And -you disinherit your granddaughter," continued the notary, -"because she has contracted an engagement contrary to your -wishes?" -"Yes." -"So that, but for this marriage, she would have been your -heir?" -"Yes." There was a profound silence. The two notaries were -holding a consultation as to the best means of proceeding -with the affair. Valentine was looking at her grandfather -with a smile of intense gratitude, and Villefort was biting -his lips with vexation, while Madame de Villefort could not -succeed in repressing an inward feeling of joy, which, in -spite of herself, appeared in her whole countenance. "But," -said Villefort, who was the first to break the silence, "I -consider that I am the best judge of the propriety of the -marriage in question. I am the only person possessing the -right to dispose of my daughter's hand. It is my wish that -she should marry M. Franz d'Epinay and she shall marry -him." Valentine sank weeping into a chair. -"Sir," said the notary, "how do you intend disposing of your -fortune in case Mademoiselle de Villefort still determines -on marrying M. Franz?" The old man gave no answer. "You -will, of course, dispose of it in some way or other?" -"Yes." -"In favor of some member of your family?" -"No." -"Do you intend devoting it to charitable purposes, then?" -pursued the notary. -"Yes." -"But," said the notary, "you are aware that the law does not -allow a son to be entirely deprived of his patrimony?" -"Yes." -"You only intend, then, to dispose of that part of your -fortune which the law allows you to subtract from the -inheritance of your son?" Noirtier made no answer. "Do you -still wish to dispose of all?" -"Yes." -"But they will contest the will after your death?" -"No." -"My father knows me," replied Villefort "he is quite sure -that his wishes will be held sacred by me besides, he -understands that in my position I cannot plead against the -poor." The eye of Noirtier beamed with triumph. "What do you -decide on, sir?" asked the notary of Villefort. -"Nothing, sir it is a resolution which my father has taken -and I know he never alters his mind. I am quite resigned. -These , francs will go out of the family in order to -enrich some hospital but it is ridiculous thus to yield to -the caprices of an old man, and I shall, therefore, act -according to my conscience." Having said this, Villefort -quitted the room with his wife, leaving his father at -liberty to do as he pleased. The same day the will was made, -the witnesses were brought, it was approved by the old man, -sealed in the presence of all and given in charge to M. -Deschamps, the family notary. -Chapter -The Telegraph. -M. and Madame de Villefort found on their return that the -Count of Monte Cristo, who had come to visit them in their -absence, had been ushered into the drawingroom, and was -still awaiting them there. Madame de Villefort, who had not -yet sufficiently recovered from her late emotion to allow of -her entertaining visitors so immediately, retired to her -bedroom, while the procureur, who could better depend upon -himself, proceeded at once to the salon. Although M. de -Villefort flattered himself that, to all outward view, he -had completely masked the feelings which were passing in his -mind, he did not know that the cloud was still lowering on -his brow, so much so that the count, whose smile was -radiant, immediately noticed his sombre and thoughtful air. -"Ma foi," said Monte Cristo, after the first compliments -were over, "what is the matter with you, M. de Villefort? -Have I arrived at the moment when you were drawing up an -indictment for a capital crime?" Villefort tried to smile. -"No, count," he replied, "I am the only victim in this case. -It is I who lose my cause, and it is illluck, obstinacy, -and folly which have caused it to be decided against me." -"To what do you refer?" said Monte Cristo with wellfeigned -interest. "Have you really met with some great misfortune?" -"Oh, no, monsieur," said Villefort with a bitter smile "it -is only a loss of money which I have sustained nothing -worth mentioning, I assure you." -"True," said Monte Cristo, "the loss of a sum of money -becomes almost immaterial with a fortune such as you -possess, and to one of your philosophic spirit." -"It is not so much the loss of the money that vexes me," -said Villefort, "though, after all, , francs are worth -regretting but I am the more annoyed with this fate, -chance, or whatever you please to call the power which has -destroyed my hopes and my fortune, and may blast the -prospects of my child also, as it is all occasioned by an -old man relapsed into second childhood." -"What do you say?" said the count ", francs? It is -indeed a sum which might be regretted even by a philosopher. -And who is the cause of all this annoyance?" -"My father, as I told you." -"M. Noirtier? But I thought you told me he had become -entirely paralyzed, and that all his faculties were -completely destroyed?" -"Yes, his bodily faculties, for he can neither move nor -speak, nevertheless he thinks, acts, and wills in the manner -I have described. I left him about five minutes ago, and he -is now occupied in dictating his will to two notaries." -"But to do this he must have spoken?" -"He has done better than that he has made himself -understood." -"How was such a thing possible?" -"By the help of his eyes, which are still full of life, and, -as you perceive, possess the power of inflicting mortal -injury." -"My dear," said Madame de Villefort, who had just entered -the room, "perhaps you exaggerate the evil." -"Goodmorning, madame," said the count, bowing. Madame de -Villefort acknowledged the salutation with one of her most -gracious smiles. "What is this that M. de Villefort has been -telling me?" demanded Monte Cristo "and what -incomprehensible misfortune" -"Incomprehensible is not the word," interrupted the -procureur, shrugging his shoulders. "It is an old man's -caprice." -"And is there no means of making him revoke his decision?" -"Yes," said Madame de Villefort "and it is still entirely -in the power of my husband to cause the will, which is now -in prejudice of Valentine, to be altered in her favor." The -count, who perceived that M. and Madame de Villefort were -beginning to speak in parables, appeared to pay no attention -to the conversation, and feigned to be busily engaged in -watching Edward, who was mischievously pouring some ink into -the bird's waterglass. "My dear," said Villefort, in answer -to his wife, "you know I have never been accustomed to play -the patriarch in my family, nor have I ever considered that -the fate of a universe was to be decided by my nod. -Nevertheless, it is necessary that my will should be -respected in my family, and that the folly of an old man and -the caprice of a child should not be allowed to overturn a -project which I have entertained for so many years. The -Baron d'Epinay was my friend, as you know, and an alliance -with his son is the most suitable thing that could possibly -be arranged." -"Do you think," said Madame de Villefort, "that Valentine is -in league with him? She has always been opposed to this -marriage, and I should not be at all surprised if what we -have just seen and heard is nothing but the execution of a -plan concerted between them." -"Madame," said Villefort, "believe me, a fortune of , -francs is not so easily renounced." -"She could, nevertheless, make up her mind to renounce the -world, sir, since it is only about a year ago that she -herself proposed entering a convent." -"Never mind," replied Villefort "I say that this marriage -shall be consummated." -"Notwithstanding your father's wishes to the contrary?" said -Madame de Villefort, selecting a new point of attack. "That -is a serious thing." Monte Cristo, who pretended not to be -listening, heard however, every word that was said. -"Madame," replied Villefort "I can truly say that I have -always entertained a high respect for my father, because, to -the natural feeling of relationship was added the -consciousness of his moral superiority. The name of father -is sacred in two senses he should be reverenced as the -author of our being and as a master whom we ought to obey. -But, under the present circumstances, I am justified in -doubting the wisdom of an old man who, because he hated the -father, vents his anger on the son. It would be ridiculous -in me to regulate my conduct by such caprices. I shall still -continue to preserve the same respect toward M. Noirtier I -will suffer, without complaint, the pecuniary deprivation to -which he has subjected me but I shall remain firm in my -determination, and the world shall see which party has -reason on his side. Consequently I shall marry my daughter -to the Baron Franz d'Epinay, because I consider it would be -a proper and eligible match for her to make, and, in short, -because I choose to bestow my daughter's hand on whomever I -please." -"What?" said the count, the approbation of whose eye -Villefort had frequently solicited during this speech. -"What? Do you say that M. Noirtier disinherits Mademoiselle -de Villefort because she is going to marry M. le Baron Franz -d'Epinay?" -"Yes, sir, that is the reason," said Villefort, shrugging -his shoulders. -"The apparent reason, at least," said Madame de Villefort. -"The real reason, madame, I can assure you I know my -father." -"But I want to know in what way M. d'Epinay can have -displeased your father more than any other person?" -"I believe I know M. Franz d'Epinay," said the count "is he -not the son of General de Quesnel, who was created Baron -d'Epinay by Charles X.?" -"The same," said Villefort. -"Well, but he is a charming young man, according to my -ideas." -"He is, which makes me believe that it is only an excuse of -M. Noirtier to prevent his granddaughter marrying old men -are always so selfish in their affection," said Madame de -Villefort. -"But," said Monte Cristo "do you not know any cause for this -hatred?" -"Ah, ma foi, who is to know?" -"Perhaps it is some political difference?" -"My father and the Baron d'Epinay lived in the stormy times -of which I only saw the ending," said Villefort. -"Was not your father a Bonapartist?" asked Monte Cristo "I -think I remember that you told me something of that kind." -"My father has been a Jacobin more than anything else," said -Villefort, carried by his emotion beyond the bounds of -prudence "and the senator's robe, which Napoleon cast on -his shoulders, only served to disguise the old man without -in any degree changing him. When my father conspired, it was -not for the emperor, it was against the Bourbons for M. -Noirtier possessed this peculiarity, he never projected any -Utopian schemes which could never be realized, but strove -for possibilities, and he applied to the realization of -these possibilities the terrible theories of The Mountain, -theories that never shrank from any means that were -deemed necessary to bring about the desired result." -"Well," said Monte Cristo, "it is just as I thought it was -politics which brought Noirtier and M. d'Epinay into -personal contact. Although General d'Epinay served under -Napoleon, did he not still retain royalist sentiments? And -was he not the person who was assassinated one evening on -leaving a Bonapartist meeting to which he had been invited -on the supposition that he favored the cause of the -emperor?" Villefort looked at the count almost with terror. -"Am I mistaken, then?" said Monte Cristo. -"No, sir, the facts were precisely what you have stated," -said Madame de Villefort "and it was to prevent the renewal -of old feuds that M. de Villefort formed the idea of uniting -in the bonds of affection the two children of these -inveterate enemies." -"It was a sublime and charitable thought," said Monte -Cristo, "and the whole world should applaud it. It would be -noble to see Mademoiselle Noirtier de Villefort assuming the -title of Madame Franz d'Epinay." Villefort shuddered and -looked at Monte Cristo as if he wished to read in his -countenance the real feelings which had dictated the words -he had just uttered. But the count completely baffled the -procureur, and prevented him from discovering anything -beneath the nevervarying smile he was so constantly in the -habit of assuming. "Although," said Villefort, "it will be a -serious thing for Valentine to lose her grandfather's -fortune, I do not think that M. d'Epinay will be frightened -at this pecuniary loss. He will, perhaps, hold me in greater -esteem than the money itself, seeing that I sacrifice -everything in order to keep my word with him. Besides, he -knows that Valentine is rich in right of her mother, and -that she will, in all probability, inherit the fortune of M. -and Madame de SaintMeran, her mother's parents, who both -love her tenderly." -"And who are fully as well worth loving and tending as M. -Noirtier," said Madame de Villefort "besides, they are to -come to Paris in about a month, and Valentine, after the -affront she has received, need not consider it necessary to -continue to bury herself alive by being shut up with M. -Noirtier." The count listened with satisfaction to this tale -of wounded selflove and defeated ambition. "But it seems to -me," said Monte Cristo, "and I must begin by asking your -pardon for what I am about to say, that if M. Noirtier -disinherits Mademoiselle de Villefort because she is going -to marry a man whose father he detested, he cannot have the -same cause of complaint against this dear Edward." -"True," said Madame de Villefort, with an intonation of -voice which it is impossible to describe "is it not unjust -shamefully unjust? Poor Edward is as much M. Noirtier's -grandchild as Valentine, and yet, if she had not been going -to marry M. Franz, M. Noirtier would have left her all his -money and supposing Valentine to be disinherited by her -grandfather, she will still be three times richer than he." -The count listened and said no more. "Count," said -Villefort, "we will not entertain you any longer with our -family misfortunes. It is true that my patrimony will go to -endow charitable institutions, and my father will have -deprived me of my lawful inheritance without any reason for -doing so, but I shall have the satisfaction of knowing that -I have acted like a man of sense and feeling. M. d'Epinay, -to whom I had promised the interest of this sum, shall -receive it, even if I endure the most cruel privations." -"However," said Madame de Villefort, returning to the one -idea which incessantly occupied her mind, "perhaps it would -be better to explain this unlucky affair to M. d'Epinay, in -order to give him the opportunity of himself renouncing his -claim to the hand of Mademoiselle de Villefort." -"Ah, that would be a great pity," said Villefort. -"A great pity," said Monte Cristo. -"Undoubtedly," said Villefort, moderating the tones of his -voice, "a marriage once concerted and then broken off, -throws a sort of discredit on a young lady then again, the -old reports, which I was so anxious to put an end to, will -instantly gain ground. No, it will all go well M. d'Epinay, -if he is an honorable man, will consider himself more than -ever pledged to Mademoiselle de Villefort, unless he were -actuated by a decided feeling of avarice, but that is -impossible." -"I agree with M. de Villefort," said Monte Cristo, fixing -his eyes on Madame de Villefort "and if I were sufficiently -intimate with him to allow of giving my advice, I would -persuade him, since I have been told M. d'Epinay is coming -back, to settle this affair at once beyond all possibility -of revocation. I will answer for the success of a project -which will reflect so much honor on M. de Villefort." The -procureur arose, delighted with the proposition, but his -wife slightly changed color. "Well, that is all that I -wanted, and I will be guided by a counsellor such as you -are," said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo. -"Therefore let every one here look upon what has passed -today as if it had not happened, and as though we had never -thought of such a thing as a change in our original plans." -"Sir," said the count, "the world, unjust as it is, will be -pleased with your resolution your friends will be proud of -you, and M. d'Epinay, even if he took Mademoiselle de -Villefort without any dowry, which he will not do, would be -delighted with the idea of entering a family which could -make such sacrifices in order to keep a promise and fulfil a -duty." At the conclusion of these words, the count rose to -depart. "Are you going to leave us, count?" said Madame de -Villefort. -"I am sorry to say I must do so, madame, I only came to -remind you of your promise for Saturday." -"Did you fear that we should forget it?" -"You are very good, madame, but M. de Villefort has so many -important and urgent occupations." -"My husband has given me his word, sir," said Madame de -Villefort "you have just seen him resolve to keep it when -he has everything to lose, and surely there is more reason -for his doing so where he has everything to gain." -"And," said Villefort, "is it at your house in the -ChampsElysees that you receive your visitors?" -"No," said Monte Cristo, "which is precisely the reason -which renders your kindness more meritorious, it is in -the country." -"In the country?" -"Yes." -"Where is it, then? Near Paris, is it not?" -"Very near, only half a league from the Barriers, it is -at Auteuil." -"At Auteuil?" said Villefort "true, Madame de Villefort -told me you lived at Auteuil, since it was to your house -that she was taken. And in what part of Auteuil do you -reside?" -"Rue de la Fontaine." -"Rue de la Fontaine" exclaimed Villefort in an agitated -tone "at what number?" -"No. ." -"Then," cried Villefort, "was it you who bought M. de -SaintMeran's house" -"Did it belong to M. de SaintMeran?" demanded Monte Cristo. -"Yes," replied Madame de Villefort "and, would you believe -it, count" -"Believe what?" -"You think this house pretty, do you not?" -"I think it charming." -"Well, my husband would never live in it." -"Indeed?" returned Monte Cristo, "that is a prejudice on -your part, M. de Villefort, for which I am quite at a loss -to account." -"I do not like Auteuil, sir," said the procureur, making an -evident effort to appear calm. -"But I hope you will not carry your antipathy so far as to -deprive me of the pleasure of your company, sir," said Monte -Cristo. -"No, count, I hope I assure you I shall do my best," -stammered Villefort. -"Oh," said Monte Cristo, "I allow of no excuse. On Saturday, -at six o'clock. I shall be expecting you, and if you fail to -come, I shall think for how do I know to the contrary? -that this house, which his remained uninhabited for twenty -years, must have some gloomy tradition or dreadful legend -connected with it." -"I will come, count, I will be sure to come," said -Villefort eagerly. -"Thank you," said Monte Cristo "now you must permit me to -take my leave of you." -"You said before that you were obliged to leave us, -monsieur," said Madame de Villefort, "and you were about to -tell us why when your attention was called to some other -subject." -"Indeed madame," said Monte Cristo "I scarcely know if I -dare tell you where I am going." -"Nonsense say on." -"Well, then, it is to see a thing on which I have sometimes -mused for hours together." -"What is it?" -"A telegraph. So now I have told my secret." -"A telegraph?" repeated Madame de Villefort. -"Yes, a telegraph. I had often seen one placed at the end of -a road on a hillock, and in the light of the sun its black -arms, bending in every direction, always reminded me of the -claws of an immense beetle, and I assure you it was never -without emotion that I gazed on it, for I could not help -thinking how wonderful it was that these various signs -should be made to cleave the air with such precision as to -convey to the distance of three hundred leagues the ideas -and wishes of a man sitting at a table at one end of the -line to another man similarly placed at the opposite -extremity, and all this effected by a simple act of volition -on the part of the sender of the message. I began to think -of genii, sylphs, gnomes, in short, of all the ministers of -the occult sciences, until I laughed aloud at the freaks of -my own imagination. Now, it never occurred to me to wish for -a nearer inspection of these large insects, with their long -black claws, for I always feared to find under their stone -wings some little human genius fagged to death with cabals, -factions, and government intrigues. But one fine day I -learned that the mover of this telegraph was only a poor -wretch, hired for twelve hundred francs a year, and employed -all day, not in studying the heavens like an astronomer, or -in gazing on the water like an angler, or even in enjoying -the privilege of observing the country around him, but all -his monotonous life was passed in watching his -whitebellied, blackclawed fellow insect, four or five -leagues distant from him. At length I felt a desire to study -this living chrysalis more closely, and to endeavor to -understand the secret part played by these insectactors -when they occupy themselves simply with pulling different -pieces of string." -"And are you going there?" -"I am." -"What telegraph do you intend visiting? that of the home -department, or of the observatory?" -"Oh, no I should find there people who would force me to -understand things of which I would prefer to remain -ignorant, and who would try to explain to me, in spite of -myself, a mystery which even they do not understand. Ma foi, -I should wish to keep my illusions concerning insects -unimpaired it is quite enough to have those dissipated -which I had formed of my fellowcreatures. I shall, -therefore, not visit either of these telegraphs, but one in -the open country where I shall find a goodnatured -simpleton, who knows no more than the machine he is employed -to work." -"You are a singular man," said Villefort. -"What line would you advise me to study?" -"The one that is most in use just at this time." -"The Spanish one, you mean, I suppose?" -"Yes should you like a letter to the minister that they -might explain to you" -"No," said Monte Cristo "since, as I told you before, I do -not wish to comprehend it. The moment I understand it there -will no longer exist a telegraph for me it will be nothing -more than a sign from M. Duchatel, or from M. Montalivet, -transmitted to the prefect of Bayonne, mystified by two -Greek words, tele, graphein. It is the insect with black -claws, and the awful word which I wish to retain in my -imagination in all its purity and all its importance." -"Go then for in the course of two hours it will be dark, -and you will not be able to see anything." -"Ma foi, you frighten me. Which is the nearest way? -Bayonne?" -"Yes the road to Bayonne." -"And afterwards the road to Chatillon?" -"Yes." -"By the tower of Montlhery, you mean?" -"Yes." -"Thank you. Goodby. On Saturday I will tell you my -impressions concerning the telegraph." At the door the count -was met by the two notaries, who had just completed the act -which was to disinherit Valentine, and who were leaving -under the conviction of having done a thing which could not -fail of redounding considerably to their credit. -Chapter -How a Gardener may get rid of the Dormice that eat His -Peaches. -Not on the same night, as he had intended, but the next -morning, the Count of Monte Cristo went out by the Barrier -d'Enfer, taking the road to Orleans. Leaving the village of -Linas, without stopping at the telegraph, which flourished -its great bony arms as he passed, the count reached the -tower of Montlhery, situated, as every one knows, upon the -highest point of the plain of that name. At the foot of the -hill the count dismounted and began to ascend by a little -winding path, about eighteen inches wide when he reached -the summit he found himself stopped by a hedge, upon which -green fruit had succeeded to red and white flowers. -Monte Cristo looked for the entrance to the enclosure, and -was not long in finding a little wooden gate, working on -willow hinges, and fastened with a nail and string. The -count soon mastered the mechanism, the gate opened, and he -then found himself in a little garden, about twenty feet -long by twelve wide, bounded on one side by part of the -hedge, which contained the ingenious contrivance we have -called a gate, and on the other by the old tower, covered -with ivy and studded with wallflowers. No one would have -thought in looking at this old, weatherbeaten, -floraldecked tower which might be likened to an elderly -dame dressed up to receive her grandchildren at a birthday -feast that it would have been capable of telling strange -things, if, in addition to the menacing ears which the -proverb says all walls are provided with, it had also a -voice. The garden was crossed by a path of red gravel, edged -by a border of thick box, of many years' growth, and of a -tone and color that would have delighted the heart of -Delacroix, our modern Rubens. This path was formed in the -shape of the figure of , thus, in its windings, making a -walk of sixty feet in a garden of only twenty. -Never had Flora, the fresh and smiling goddess of gardeners, -been honored with a purer or more scrupulous worship than -that which was paid to her in this little enclosure. In -fact, of the twenty rosetrees which formed the parterre, -not one bore the mark of the slug, nor were there evidences -anywhere of the clustering aphis which is so destructive to -plants growing in a damp soil. And yet it was not because -the damp had been excluded from the garden the earth, black -as soot, the thick foliage of the trees betrayed its -presence besides, had natural humidity been wanting, it -could have been immediately supplied by artificial means, -thanks to a tank of water, sunk in one of the corners of the -garden, and upon which were stationed a frog and a toad, -who, from antipathy, no doubt, always remained on the two -opposite sides of the basin. There was not a blade of grass -to be seen in the paths, or a weed in the flowerbeds no -fine lady ever trained and watered her geraniums, her cacti, -and her rhododendrons, with more pains than this hitherto -unseen gardener bestowed upon his little enclosure. Monte -Cristo stopped after having closed the gate and fastened the -string to the nail, and cast a look around. -"The man at the telegraph," said he, "must either engage a -gardener or devote himself passionately to agriculture." -Suddenly he struck against something crouching behind a -wheelbarrow filled with leaves the something rose, uttering -an exclamation of astonishment, and Monte Cristo found -himself facing a man about fifty years old, who was plucking -strawberries, which he was placing upon grape leaves. He had -twelve leaves and about as many strawberries, which, on -rising suddenly, he let fall from his hand. "You are -gathering your crop, sir?" said Monte Cristo, smiling. -"Excuse me, sir," replied the man, raising his hand to his -cap "I am not up there, I know, but I have only just come -down." -"Do not let me interfere with you in anything, my friend," -said the count "gather your strawberries, if, indeed, there -are any left." -"I have ten left," said the man, "for here are eleven, and I -had twentyone, five more than last year. But I am not -surprised the spring has been warm this year, and -strawberries require heat, sir. This is the reason that, -instead of the sixteen I had last year, I have this year, -you see, eleven, already plucked twelve, thirteen, -fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. Ah, I miss -three, they were here last night, sir I am sure they were -here I counted them. It must be the Mere Simon's son who -has stolen them I saw him strolling about here this -morning. Ah, the young rascal stealing in a garden he -does not know where that may lead him to." -"Certainly, it is wrong," said Monte Cristo, "but you should -take into consideration the youth and greediness of the -delinquent." -"Of course," said the gardener, "but that does not make it -the less unpleasant. But, sir, once more I beg pardon -perhaps you are an officer that I am detaining here." And he -glanced timidly at the count's blue coat. -"Calm yourself, my friend," said the count, with the smile -which he made at will either terrible or benevolent, and -which now expressed only the kindliest feeling "I am not an -inspector, but a traveller, brought here by a curiosity he -half repents of, since he causes you to lose your time." -"Ah, my time is not valuable," replied the man with a -melancholy smile. "Still it belongs to government, and I -ought not to waste it but, having received the signal that -I might rest for an hour" here he glanced at the sundial, -for there was everything in the enclosure of Montlhery, even -a sundial, "and having ten minutes before me, and my -strawberries being ripe, when a day longer bytheby, -sir, do you think dormice eat them?" -"Indeed, I should think not," replied Monte Cristo "dormice -are bad neighbors for us who do not eat them preserved, as -the Romans did." -"What? Did the Romans eat them?" said the gardener "ate -dormice?" -"I have read so in Petronius," said the count. -"Really? They can't be nice, though they do say "as fat as a -dormouse.' It is not a wonder they are fat, sleeping all -day, and only waking to eat all night. Listen. Last year I -had four apricots they stole one, I had one nectarine, -only one well, sir, they ate half of it on the wall a -splendid nectarine I never ate a better." -"You ate it?" -"That is to say, the half that was left you understand -it was exquisite, sir. Ah, those gentlemen never choose the -worst morsels like Mere Simon's son, who has not chosen the -worst strawberries. But this year," continued the -horticulturist, "I'll take care it shall not happen, even if -I should be forced to sit by the whole night to watch when -the strawberries are ripe." Monte Cristo had seen enough. -Every man has a devouring passion in his heart, as every -fruit has its worm that of the telegraph man was -horticulture. He began gathering the grapeleaves which -screened the sun from the grapes, and won the heart of the -gardener. "Did you come here, sir, to see the telegraph?" he -said. -"Yes, if it isn't contrary to the rules." -"Oh, no," said the gardener "not in the least, since there -is no danger that anyone can possibly understand what we are -saying." -"I have been told," said the count, "that you do not always -yourselves understand the signals you repeat." -"That is true, sir, and that is what I like best," said the -man, smiling. -"Why do you like that best?" -"Because then I have no responsibility. I am a machine then, -and nothing else, and so long as I work, nothing more is -required of me." -"Is it possible," said Monte Cristo to himself, "that I can -have met with a man that has no ambition? That would spoil -my plans." -"Sir," said the gardener, glancing at the sundial, "the ten -minutes are almost up I must return to my post. Will you go -up with me?" -"I follow you." Monte Cristo entered the tower, which was -divided into three stories. The tower contained implements, -such as spades, rakes, wateringpots, hung against the wall -this was all the furniture. The second was the man's -conventional abode, or rather sleepingplace it contained a -few poor articles of household furniture a bed, a table, -two chairs, a stone pitcher and some dry herbs, hung up -to the ceiling, which the count recognized as sweet pease, -and of which the good man was preserving the seeds he had -labelled them with as much care as if he had been master -botanist in the Jardin des Plantes. -"Does it require much study to learn the art of -telegraphing?" asked Monte Cristo. -"The study does not take long it was acting as a -supernumerary that was so tedious." -"And what is the pay?" -"A thousand francs, sir." -"It is nothing." -"No but then we are lodged, as you perceive." -Monte Cristo looked at the room. They passed to the third -story it was the telegraph room. Monte Cristo looked in -turn at the two iron handles by which the machine was -worked. "It is very interesting," he said, "but it must be -very tedious for a lifetime." -"Yes. At first my neck was cramped with looking at it, but -at the end of a year I became used to it and then we have -our hours of recreation, and our holidays." -"Holidays?" -"Yes." -"When?" -"When we have a fog." -"Ah, to be sure." -"Those are indeed holidays to me I go into the garden, I -plant, I prune, I trim, I kill the insects all day long." -"How long have you been here?" -"Ten years, and five as a supernumerary make fifteen." -"You are " -"Fiftyfive years old." -"How long must you have served to claim the pension?" -"Oh, sir, twentyfive years." -"And how much is the pension?" -"A hundred crowns." -"Poor humanity" murmured Monte Cristo. -"What did you say, sir?" asked the man. -"I was saying it was very interesting." -"What was?" -"All you were showing me. And you really understand none of -these signals?" -"None at all." -"And have you never tried to understand them?" -"Never. Why should I?" -"But still there are some signals only addressed to you." -"Certainly." -"And do you understand them?" -"They are always the same." -"And they mean " -"Nothing new You have an hour or Tomorrow." -"This is simple enough," said the count "but look, is not -your correspondent putting itself in motion?" -"Ah, yes thank you, sir." -"And what is it saying anything you understand?" -"Yes it asks if I am ready." -"And you reply?" -"By the same sign, which, at the same time, tells my -righthand correspondent that I am ready, while it gives -notice to my lefthand correspondent to prepare in his -turn." -"It is very ingenious," said the count. -"You will see," said the man proudly "in five minutes he -will speak." -"I have, then, five minutes," said Monte Cristo to himself -"it is more time than I require. My dear sir, will you allow -me to ask you a question?" -"What is it, sir?" -"You are fond of gardening?" -"Passionately." -"And you would be pleased to have, instead of this terrace -of twenty feet, an enclosure of two acres?" -"Sir, I should make a terrestrial paradise of it." -"You live badly on your thousand francs?" -"Badly enough but yet I do live." -"Yes but you have a wretchedly small garden." -"True, the garden is not large." -"And, then, such as it is, it is filled with dormice, who -eat everything." -"Ah, they are my scourges." -"Tell me, should you have the misfortune to turn your head -while your righthand correspondent was telegraphing" -"I should not see him." -"Then what would happen?" -"I could not repeat the signals." -"And then?" -"Not having repeated them, through negligence, I should be -fined." -"How much?" -"A hundred francs." -"The tenth of your income that would be fine work." -"Ah," said the man. -"Has it ever happened to you?" said Monte Cristo. -"Once, sir, when I was grafting a rosetree." -"Well, suppose you were to alter a signal, and substitute -another?" -"Ah, that is another case I should be turned off, and lose -my pension." -"Three hundred francs?" -"A hundred crowns, yes, sir so you see that I am not likely -to do any of these things." -"Not even for fifteen years' wages? Come, it is worth -thinking about?" -"For fifteen thousand francs?" -"Yes." -"Sir, you alarm me." -"Nonsense." -"Sir, you are tempting me?" -"Just so fifteen thousand francs, do you understand?" -"Sir, let me see my righthand correspondent." -"On the contrary, do not look at him, but at this." -"What is it?" -"What? Do you not know these bits of paper?" -"Banknotes" -"Exactly there are fifteen of them." -"And whose are they?" -"Yours, if you like." -"Mine?" exclaimed the man, halfsuffocated. -"Yes yours your own property." -"Sir, my righthand correspondent is signalling." -"Let him signal." -"Sir, you have distracted me I shall be fined." -"That will cost you a hundred francs you see it is your -interest to take my banknotes." -"Sir, my righthand correspondent redoubles his signals he -is impatient." -"Never mind take these" and the count placed the packet -in the man's hands. "Now this is not all," he said "you -cannot live upon your fifteen thousand francs." -"I shall still have my place." -"No, you will lose it, for you are going to alter your -correspondent's message." -"Oh, sir, what are you proposing?" -"A jest." -"Sir, unless you force me" -"I think I can effectually force you" and Monte Cristo drew -another packet from his pocket. "Here are ten thousand more -francs," he said, "with the fifteen thousand already in your -pocket, they will make twentyfive thousand. With five -thousand you can buy a pretty little house with two acres of -land the remaining twenty thousand will bring you in a -thousand francs a year." -"A garden with two acres of land" -"And a thousand francs a year." -"Oh, heavens" -"Come, take them," and Monte Cristo forced the banknotes -into his hand. -"What am I to do?" -"Nothing very difficult." -"But what is it?" -"To repeat these signs." Monte Cristo took a paper from his -pocket, upon which were drawn three signs, with numbers to -indicate the order in which they were to be worked. -"There, you see it will not take long." -"Yes but" -"Do this, and you will have nectarines and all the rest." -The shot told red with fever, while the large drops fell -from his brow, the man executed, one after the other, the -three signs given by the count, in spite of the frightful -contortions of the righthand correspondent, who, not -understanding the change, began to think the gardener had -gone mad. As to the lefthand one, he conscientiously -repeated the same signals, which were finally transmitted to -the Minister of the Interior. "Now you are rich," said Monte -Cristo. -"Yes," replied the man, "but at what a price" -"Listen, friend," said Monte Cristo. "I do not wish to cause -you any remorse believe me, then, when I swear to you that -you have wronged no man, but on the contrary have benefited -mankind." The man looked at the banknotes, felt them, -counted them, turned pale, then red, then rushed into his -room to drink a glass of water, but he had no time to reach -the waterjug, and fainted in the midst of his dried herbs. -Five minutes after the new telegram reached the minister, -Debray had the horses put to his carriage, and drove to -Danglars' house. -"Has your husband any Spanish bonds?" he asked of the -baroness. -"I think so, indeed He has six millions' worth." -"He must sell them at whatever price." -"Why?" -"Because Don Carlos has fled from Bourges, and has returned -to Spain." -"How do you know?" Debray shrugged his shoulders. "The idea -of asking how I hear the news," he said. The baroness did -not wait for a repetition she ran to her husband, who -immediately hastened to his agent, and ordered him to sell -at any price. When it was seen that Danglars sold, the -Spanish funds fell directly. Danglars lost five hundred -thousand francs but he rid himself of all his Spanish -shares. The same evening the following was read in Le -Messager -"[By telegraph.] The king, Don Carlos, has escaped the -vigilance of his guardians at Bourges, and has returned to -Spain by the Catalonian frontier. Barcelona has risen in his -favor." -All that evening nothing was spoken of but the foresight of -Danglars, who had sold his shares, and of the luck of the -stockjobber, who only lost five hundred thousand francs by -such a blow. Those who had kept their shares, or bought -those of Danglars, looked upon themselves as ruined, and -passed a very bad night. Next morning Le Moniteur contained -the following -"It was without any foundation that Le Messager yesterday -announced the flight of Don Carlos and the revolt of -Barcelona. The king Don Carlos has not left Bourges, and -the peninsula is in the enjoyment of profound peace. A -telegraphic signal, improperly interpreted, owing to the -fog, was the cause of this error." -The funds rose one per cent higher than before they had -fallen. This, reckoning his loss, and what he had missed -gaining, made the difference of a million to Danglars. -"Good," said Monte Cristo to Morrel, who was at his house -when the news arrived of the strange reverse of fortune of -which Danglars had been the victim, "I have just made a -discovery for twentyfive thousand francs, for which I would -have paid a hundred thousand." -"What have you discovered?" asked Morrel. -"I have just discovered how a gardener may get rid of the -dormice that eat his peaches." -Chapter -Ghosts. -At first sight the exterior of the house at Auteuil gave no -indications of splendor, nothing one would expect from the -destined residence of the magnificent Count of Monte Cristo -but this simplicity was according to the will of its master, -who positively ordered nothing to be altered outside. The -splendor was within. Indeed, almost before the door opened, -the scene changed. M. Bertuccio had outdone himself in the -taste displayed in furnishing, and in the rapidity with -which it was executed. It is told that the Duc d'Antin -removed in a single night a whole avenue of trees that -annoyed Louis XIV. in three days M. Bertuccio planted an -entirely bare court with poplars, large spreading sycamores -to shade the different parts of the house, and in the -foreground, instead of the usual pavingstones, half hidden -by the grass, there extended a lawn but that morning laid -down, and upon which the water was yet glistening. For the -rest, the orders had been issued by the count he himself -had given a plan to Bertuccio, marking the spot where each -tree was to be planted, and the shape and extent of the lawn -which was to take the place of the pavingstones. Thus the -house had become unrecognizable, and Bertuccio himself -declared that he scarcely knew it, encircled as it was by a -framework of trees. The overseer would not have objected, -while he was about it, to have made some improvements in the -garden, but the count had positively forbidden it to be -touched. Bertuccio made amends, however, by loading the -antechambers, staircases, and mantlepieces with flowers. -What, above all, manifested the shrewdness of the steward, -and the profound science of the master, the one in carrying -out the ideas of the other, was that this house which -appeared only the night before so sad and gloomy, -impregnated with that sickly smell one can almost fancy to -be the smell of time, had in a single day acquired the -aspect of life, was scented with its master's favorite -perfumes, and had the very light regulated according to his -wish. When the count arrived, he had under his touch his -books and arms, his eyes rested upon his favorite pictures -his dogs, whose caresses he loved, welcomed him in the -antechamber the birds, whose songs delighted him, cheered -him with their music and the house, awakened from its long -sleep, like the sleeping beauty in the wood, lived, sang, -and bloomed like the houses we have long cherished, and in -which, when we are forced to leave them, we leave a part of -our souls. The servants passed gayly along the fine -courtyard some, belonging to the kitchens, gliding down -the stairs, restored but the previous day, as if they had -always inhabited the house others filling the coachhouses, -where the equipages, encased and numbered, appeared to have -been installed for the last fifty years and in the stables -the horses replied with neighs to the grooms, who spoke to -them with much more respect than many servants pay their -masters. -The library was divided into two parts on either side of the -wall, and contained upwards of two thousand volumes one -division was entirely devoted to novels, and even the volume -which had been published but the day before was to be seen -in its place in all the dignity of its red and gold binding. -On the other side of the house, to match with the library, -was the conservatory, ornamented with rare flowers, that -bloomed in china jars and in the midst of the greenhouse, -marvellous alike to sight and smell, was a billiardtable -which looked as if it had been abandoned during the past -hour by players who had left the balls on the cloth. One -chamber alone had been respected by the magnificent -Bertuccio. Before this room, to which you could ascend by -the grand, and go out by the back staircase, the servants -passed with curiosity, and Bertuccio with terror. At five -o'clock precisely, the count arrived before the house at -Auteuil, followed by Ali. Bertuccio was awaiting this -arrival with impatience, mingled with uneasiness he hoped -for some compliments, while, at the same time, he feared to -have frowns. Monte Cristo descended into the courtyard, -walked all over the house, without giving any sign of -approbation or pleasure, until he entered his bedroom, -situated on the opposite side to the closed room then he -approached a little piece of furniture, made of rosewood, -which he had noticed at a previous visit. "That can only be -to hold gloves," he said. -"Will your excellency deign to open it?" said the delighted -Bertuccio, "and you will find gloves in it." Elsewhere the -count found everything he required smellingbottles, -cigars, knickknacks. -"Good," he said and M. Bertuccio left enraptured, so great, -so powerful, and real was the influence exercised by this -man over all who surrounded him. At precisely six o'clock -the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard at the entrance door -it was our captain of Spahis, who had arrived on Medeah. "I -am sure I am the first," cried Morrel "I did it on purpose -to have you a minute to myself, before every one came. Julie -and Emmanuel have a thousand things to tell you. Ah, really -this is magnificent But tell me, count, will your people -take care of my horse?" -"Do not alarm yourself, my dear Maximilian they -understand." -"I mean, because he wants petting. If you had seen at what a -pace he came like the wind" -"I should think so, a horse that cost , francs" said -Monte Cristo, in the tone which a father would use towards a -son. -"Do you regret them?" asked Morrel, with his open laugh. -"I? Certainly not," replied the count. "No I should only -regret if the horse had not proved good." -"It is so good, that I have distanced M. de ChateauRenaud, -one of the best riders in France, and M. Debray, who both -mount the minister's Arabians and close on their heels are -the horses of Madame Danglars, who always go at six leagues -an hour." -"Then they follow you?" asked Monte Cristo. -"See, they are here." And at the same minute a carriage with -smoking horses, accompanied by two mounted gentlemen, -arrived at the gate, which opened before them. The carriage -drove round, and stopped at the steps, followed by the -horsemen. The instant Debray had touched the ground, he was -at the carriagedoor. He offered his hand to the baroness, -who, descending, took it with a peculiarity of manner -imperceptible to every one but Monte Cristo. But nothing -escaped the count's notice, and he observed a little note, -passed with the facility that indicates frequent practice, -from the hand of Madame Danglars to that of the minister's -secretary. After his wife the banker descended, as pale as -though he had issued from his tomb instead of his carriage. -Madame Danglars threw a rapid and inquiring glance which -could only be interpreted by Monte Cristo, around the -courtyard, over the peristyle, and across the front of the -house, then, repressing a slight emotion, which must have -been seen on her countenance if she had not kept her color, -she ascended the steps, saying to Morrel, "Sir, if you were -a friend of mine, I should ask you if you would sell your -horse." -Morrel smiled with an expression very like a grimace, and -then turned round to Monte Cristo, as if to ask him to -extricate him from his embarrassment. The count understood -him. "Ah, madame," he said, "why did you not make that -request of me?" -"With you, sir," replied the baroness, "one can wish for -nothing, one is so sure to obtain it. If it were so with M. -Morrel" -"Unfortunately," replied the count, "I am witness that M. -Morrel cannot give up his horse, his honor being engaged in -keeping it." -"How so?" -"He laid a wager he would tame Medeah in the space of six -months. You understand now that if he were to get rid of the -animal before the time named, he would not only lose his -bet, but people would say he was afraid and a brave captain -of Spahis cannot risk this, even to gratify a pretty woman, -which is, in my opinion, one of the most sacred obligations -in the world." -"You see my position, madame," said Morrel, bestowing a -grateful smile on Monte Cristo. -"It seems to me," said Danglars, in his coarse tone, -illconcealed by a forced smile, "that you have already got -horses enough." Madame Danglars seldom allowed remarks of -this kind to pass unnoticed, but, to the surprise of the -young people, she pretended not to hear it, and said -nothing. Monte Cristo smiled at her unusual humility, and -showed her two immense porcelain jars, over which wound -marine plants, of a size and delicacy that nature alone -could produce. The baroness was astonished. "Why," said she, -"you could plant one of the chestnuttrees in the Tuileries -inside How can such enormous jars have been manufactured?" -"Ah, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "you must not ask of us, -the manufacturers of fine porcelain, such a question. It is -the work of another age, constructed by the genii of earth -and water." -"How so? at what period can that have been?" -"I do not know I have only heard that an emperor of China -had an oven built expressly, and that in this oven twelve -jars like this were successively baked. Two broke, from the -heat of the fire the other ten were sunk three hundred -fathoms deep into the sea. The sea, knowing what was -required of her, threw over them her weeds, encircled them -with coral, and encrusted them with shells the whole was -cemented by two hundred years beneath these almost -impervious depths, for a revolution carried away the emperor -who wished to make the trial, and only left the documents -proving the manufacture of the jars and their descent into -the sea. At the end of two hundred years the documents were -found, and they thought of bringing up the jars. Divers -descended in machines, made expressly on the discovery, into -the bay where they were thrown but of ten three only -remained, the rest having been broken by the waves. I am -fond of these jars, upon which, perhaps, misshapen, -frightful monsters have fixed their cold, dull eyes, and in -which myriads of small fish have slept, seeking a refuge -from the pursuit of their enemies." Meanwhile, Danglars, who -had cared little for curiosities, was mechanically tearing -off the blossoms of a splendid orangetree, one after -another. When he had finished with the orangetree, he began -at the cactus but this, not being so easily plucked as the -orangetree, pricked him dreadfully. He shuddered, and -rubbed his eyes as though awaking from a dream. -"Sir," said Monte Cristo to him, "I do not recommend my -pictures to you, who possess such splendid paintings but, -nevertheless, here are two by Hobbema, a Paul Potter, a -Mieris, two by Gerard Douw, a Raphael, a Vandyke, a -Zurbaran, and two or three by Murillo, worth looking at." -"Stay," said Debray "I recognize this Hobbema." -"Ah, indeed" -"Yes it was proposed for the Museum." -"Which, I believe, does not contain one?" said Monte Cristo. -"No and yet they refused to buy it." -"Why?" said ChateauRenaud. -"You pretend not to know, because government was not rich -enough." -"Ah, pardon me," said ChateauRenaud "I have heard of these -things every day during the last eight years, and I cannot -understand them yet." -"You will, by and by," said Debray. -"I think not," replied ChateauRenaud. -"Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti and Count Andrea Cavalcanti," -announced Baptistin. A black satin stock, fresh from the -maker's hands, gray moustaches, a bold eye, a major's -uniform, ornamented with three medals and five crosses in -fact, the thorough bearing of an old soldier such was the -appearance of Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, that tender -father with whom we are already acquainted. Close to him, -dressed in entirely new clothes, advanced smilingly Count -Andrea Cavalcanti, the dutiful son, whom we also know. The -three young people were talking together. On the entrance of -the newcomers, their eyes glanced from father to son, and -then, naturally enough, rested on the latter, whom they -began criticising. "Cavalcanti" said Debray. "A fine name," -said Morrel. -"Yes," said ChateauRenaud, "these Italians are well named -and badly dressed." -"You are fastidious, ChateauRenaud," replied Debray "those -clothes are well cut and quite new." -"That is just what I find fault with. That gentleman appears -to be well dressed for the first time in his life." -"Who are those gentlemen?" asked Danglars of Monte Cristo. -"You heard Cavalcanti." -"That tells me their name, and nothing else." -"Ah, true. You do not know the Italian nobility the -Cavalcanti are all descended from princes." -"Have they any fortune?" -"An enormous one." -"What do they do?" -"Try to spend it all. They have some business with you, I -think, from what they told me the day before yesterday. I, -indeed, invited them here today on your account. I will -introduce you to them." -"But they appear to speak French with a very pure accent," -said Danglars. -"The son has been educated in a college in the south I -believe near Marseilles. You will find him quite -enthusiastic." -"Upon what subject?" asked Madame Danglars. -"The French ladies, madame. He has made up his mind to take -a wife from Paris." -"A fine idea that of his," said Danglars, shrugging his -shoulders. Madame Danglars looked at her husband with an -expression which, at any other time, would have indicated a -storm, but for the second time she controlled herself. "The -baron appears thoughtful today," said Monte Cristo to her -"are they going to put him in the ministry?" -"Not yet, I think. More likely he has been speculating on -the Bourse, and has lost money." -"M. and Madame de Villefort," cried Baptistin. They entered. -M. de Villefort, notwithstanding his selfcontrol, was -visibly affected, and when Monte Cristo touched his hand, he -felt it tremble. "Certainly, women alone know how to -dissimulate," said Monte Cristo to himself, glancing at -Madame Danglars, who was smiling on the procureur, and -embracing his wife. After a short time, the count saw -Bertuccio, who, until then, had been occupied on the other -side of the house, glide into an adjoining room. He went to -him. "What do you want, M. Bertuccio?" said he. -"Your excellency has not stated the number of guests." -"Ah, true." -"How many covers?" -"Count for yourself." -"Is every one here, your excellency?" -"Yes." -Bertuccio glanced through the door, which was ajar. The -count watched him. "Good heavens" he exclaimed. -"What is the matter?" said the count. -"That woman that woman" -"Which?" -"The one with a white dress and so many diamonds the fair -one." -"Madame Danglars?" -"I do not know her name but it is she, sir, it is she" -"Whom do you mean?" -"The woman of the garden she that was enciente she -who was walking while she waited for" Bertuccio stood at -the open door, with his eyes starting and his hair on end. -"Waiting for whom?" Bertuccio, without answering, pointed to -Villefort with something of the gesture Macbeth uses to -point out Banquo. "Oh, oh," he at length muttered, "do you -see?" -"What? Who?" -"Him" -"Him M. de Villefort, the king's attorney? Certainly I -see him." -"Then I did not kill him?" -"Really, I think you are going mad, good Bertuccio," said -the count. -"Then he is not dead?" -"No you see plainly he is not dead. Instead of striking -between the sixth and seventh left ribs, as your countrymen -do, you must have struck higher or lower, and life is very -tenacious in these lawyers, or rather there is no truth in -anything you have told me it was a fright of the -imagination, a dream of your fancy. You went to sleep full -of thoughts of vengeance they weighed heavily upon your -stomach you had the nightmare that's all. Come, calm -yourself, and reckon them up M. and Madame de Villefort, -two M. and Madame Danglars, four M. de ChateauRenaud, M. -Debray, M. Morrel, seven Major Bartolomeo Cavalcanti, -eight." -"Eight" repeated Bertuccio. -"Stop You are in a shocking hurry to be off you forget -one of my guests. Lean a little to the left. Stay look at -M. Andrea Cavalcanti, the young man in a black coat, looking -at Murillo's Madonna now he is turning." This time -Bertuccio would have uttered an exclamation, had not a look -from Monte Cristo silenced him. "Benedetto?" he muttered -"fatality" -"Halfpast six o'clock has just struck, M. Bertuccio," said -the count severely "I ordered dinner at that hour, and I do -not like to wait" and he returned to his guests, while -Bertuccio, leaning against the wall, succeeded in reaching -the diningroom. Five minutes afterwards the doors of the -drawingroom were thrown open, and Bertuccio appearing said, -with a violent effort, "The dinner waits." -The Count of Monte Cristo offered his arm to Madame de -Villefort. "M. de Villefort," he said, "will you conduct the -Baroness Danglars?" -Villefort complied, and they passed on to the diningroom. -Chapter -The Dinner. -It was evident that one sentiment affected all the guests on -entering the diningroom. Each one asked what strange -influence had brought them to this house, and yet -astonished, even uneasy though they were, they still felt -that they would not like to be absent. The recent events, -the solitary and eccentric position of the count, his -enormous, nay, almost incredible fortune, should have made -men cautious, and have altogether prevented ladies visiting -a house where there was no one of their own sex to receive -them and yet curiosity had been enough to lead them to -overleap the bounds of prudence and decorum. And all -present, even including Cavalcanti and his son, -notwithstanding the stiffness of the one and the -carelessness of the other, were thoughtful, on finding -themselves assembled at the house of this incomprehensible -man. Madame Danglars had started when Villefort, on the -count's invitation, offered his arm and Villefort felt that -his glance was uneasy beneath his gold spectacles, when he -felt the arm of the baroness press upon his own. None of -this had escaped the count, and even by this mere contact of -individuals the scene had already acquired considerable -interest for an observer. M. de Villefort had on the right -hand Madame Danglars, on his left Morrel. The count was -seated between Madame de Villefort and Danglars the other -seats were filled by Debray, who was placed between the two -Cavalcanti, and by ChateauRenaud, seated between Madame de -Villefort and Morrel. -The repast was magnificent Monte Cristo had endeavored -completely to overturn the Parisian ideas, and to feed the -curiosity as much as the appetite of his guests. It was an -Oriental feast that he offered to them, but of such a kind -as the Arabian fairies might be supposed to prepare. Every -delicious fruit that the four quarters of the globe could -provide was heaped in vases from China and jars from Japan. -Rare birds, retaining their most brilliant plumage, enormous -fish, spread upon massive silver dishes, together with every -wine produced in the Archipelago, Asia Minor, or the Cape, -sparkling in bottles, whose grotesque shape seemed to give -an additional flavor to the draught, all these, like one -of the displays with which Apicius of old gratified his -guests, passed in review before the eyes of the astonished -Parisians, who understood that it was possible to expend a -thousand louis upon a dinner for ten persons, but only on -the condition of eating pearls, like Cleopatra, or drinking -refined gold, like Lorenzo de' Medici. -Monte Cristo noticed the general astonishment, and began -laughing and joking about it. "Gentlemen," he said, "you -will admit that, when arrived at a certain degree of -fortune, the superfluities of life are all that can be -desired and the ladies will allow that, after having risen -to a certain eminence of position, the ideal alone can be -more exalted. Now, to follow out this reasoning, what is the -marvellous? that which we do not understand. What is it -that we really desire? that which we cannot obtain. Now, -to see things which I cannot understand, to procure -impossibilities, these are the study of my life. I gratify -my wishes by two means my will and my money. I take as -much interest in the pursuit of some whim as you do, M. -Danglars, in promoting a new railway line you, M. de -Villefort, in condemning a culprit to death you, M. Debray, -in pacifying a kingdom you, M. de ChateauRenaud, in -pleasing a woman and you, Morrel, in breaking a horse that -no one can ride. For example, you see these two fish one -brought fifty leagues beyond St. Petersburg, the other five -leagues from Naples. Is it not amusing to see them both on -the same table?" -"What are the two fish?" asked Danglars. -"M. ChateauRenaud, who has lived in Russia, will tell you -the name of one, and Major Cavalcanti, who is an Italian, -will tell you the name of the other." -"This one is, I think, a sterlet," said ChateauRenaud. -"And that one, if I mistake not, a lamprey." -"Just so. Now, M. Danglars, ask these gentlemen where they -are caught." -"Starlets," said ChateauRenaud, "are only found in the -Volga." -"And," said Cavalcanti, "I know that Lake Fusaro alone -supplies lampreys of that size." -"Exactly one comes from the Volga, and the other from Lake -Fusaro." -"Impossible" cried all the guests simultaneously. -"Well, this is just what amuses me," said Monte Cristo. "I -am like Nero cupitor impossibilium and that is what is -amusing you at this moment. This fish, which seems so -exquisite to you, is very likely no better than perch or -salmon but it seemed impossible to procure it, and here it -is." -"But how could you have these fish brought to France?" -"Oh, nothing more easy. Each fish was brought over in a cask -one filled with river herbs and weeds, the other with -rushes and lake plants they were placed in a wagon built on -purpose, and thus the sterlet lived twelve days, the lamprey -eight, and both were alive when my cook seized them, killing -one with milk and the other with wine. You do not believe -me, M. Danglars" -"I cannot help doubting," answered Danglars with his stupid -smile. -"Baptistin," said the count, "have the other fish brought in -the sterlet and the lamprey which came in the other -casks, and which are yet alive." Danglars opened his -bewildered eyes the company clapped their hands. Four -servants carried in two casks covered with aquatic plants, -and in each of which was breathing a fish similar to those -on the table. -"But why have two of each sort?" asked Danglars. -"Merely because one might have died," carelessly answered -Monte Cristo. -"You are certainly an extraordinary man," said Danglars -"and philosophers may well say it is a fine thing to be -rich." -"And to have ideas," added Madame Danglars. -"Oh, do not give me credit for this, madame it was done by -the Romans, who much esteemed them, and Pliny relates that -they sent slaves from Ostia to Rome, who carried on their -heads fish which he calls the mulus, and which, from the -description, must probably be the goldfish. It was also -considered a luxury to have them alive, it being an amusing -sight to see them die, for, when dying, they change color -three or four times, and like the rainbow when it -disappears, pass through all the prismatic shades, after -which they were sent to the kitchen. Their agony formed part -of their merit if they were not seen alive, they were -despised when dead." -"Yes," said Debray, "but then Ostia is only a few leagues -from Rome." -"True," said Monte Cristo "but what would be the use of -living eighteen hundred years after Lucullus, if we can do -no better than he could?" The two Cavalcanti opened their -enormous eyes, but had the good sense not to say anything. -"All this is very extraordinary," said ChateauRenaud -"still, what I admire the most, I confess, is the marvellous -promptitude with which your orders are executed. Is it not -true that you only bought this house five or six days ago?" -"Certainly not longer." -"Well, I am sure it is quite transformed since last week. If -I remember rightly, it had another entrance, and the -courtyard was paved and empty while today we have a -splendid lawn, bordered by trees which appear to be a -hundred years old." -"Why not? I am fond of grass and shade," said Monte Cristo. -"Yes," said Madame de Villefort, "the door was towards the -road before, and on the day of my miraculous escape you -brought me into the house from the road, I remember." -"Yes, madame," said Monte Cristo "but I preferred having an -entrance which would allow me to see the Bois de Boulogne -over my gate." -"In four days," said Morrel "it is extraordinary" -"Indeed," said ChateauRenaud, "it seems quite miraculous to -make a new house out of an old one for it was very old, and -dull too. I recollect coming for my mother to look at it -when M. de SaintMeran advertised it for sale two or three -years ago." -"M. de SaintMeran?" said Madame de Villefort "then this -house belonged to M. de SaintMeran before you bought it?" -"It appears so," replied Monte Cristo. -"Is it possible that you do not know of whom you purchased -it?" -"Quite so my steward transacts all this business for me." -"It is certainly ten years since the house had been -occupied," said ChateauRenaud, "and it was quite melancholy -to look at it, with the blinds closed, the doors locked, and -the weeds in the court. Really, if the house had not -belonged to the fatherinlaw of the procureur, one might -have thought it some accursed place where a horrible crime -had been committed." Villefort, who had hitherto not tasted -the three or four glasses of rare wine which were placed -before him, here took one, and drank it off. Monte Cristo -allowed a short time to elapse, and then said, "It is -singular, baron, but the same idea came across me the first -time I came here it looked so gloomy I should never have -bought it if my steward had not taken the matter into his -own hands. Perhaps the fellow had been bribed by the -notary." -"It is probable," stammered out Villefort, trying to smile -"but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with any such -proceeding. This house is part of Valentine's -marriageportion, and M. de SaintMeran wished to sell it -for if it had remained another year or two uninhabited it -would have fallen to ruin." It was Morrel's turn to become -pale. -"There was, above all, one room," continued Monte Cristo, -"very plain in appearance, hung with red damask, which, I -know not why, appeared to me quite dramatic." -"Why so?" said Danglars "why dramatic?" -"Can we account for instinct?" said Monte Cristo. "Are there -not some places where we seem to breathe sadness? why, we -cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections an idea which -carries you back to other times, to other places which, -very likely, have no connection with the present time and -place. And there is something in this room which reminds me -forcibly of the chamber of the Marquise de Ganges or -Desdemona. Stay, since we have finished dinner, I will show -it to you, and then we will take coffee in the garden. After -dinner, the play." Monte Cristo looked inquiringly at his -guests. Madame de Villefort rose, Monte Cristo did the same, -and the rest followed their example. Villefort and Madame -Danglars remained for a moment, as if rooted to their seats -they questioned each other with vague and stupid glances. -"Did you hear?" said Madame Danglars. - Elisabeth de Rossan, Marquise de Ganges, was one of the -famous women of the court of Louis XIV. where she was known -as "La Belle Provencale." She was the widow of the Marquise -de Castellane when she married de Ganges, and having the -misfortune to excite the enmity of her new brothersinlaw, -was forced by them to take poison and they finished her off -with pistol and dagger. Ed. -"We must go," replied Villefort, offering his arm. The -others, attracted by curiosity, were already scattered in -different parts of the house for they thought the visit -would not be limited to the one room, and that, at the same -time, they would obtain a view of the rest of the building, -of which Monte Cristo had created a palace. Each one went -out by the open doors. Monte Cristo waited for the two who -remained then, when they had passed, he brought up the -rear, and on his face was a smile, which, if they could have -understood it, would have alarmed them much more than a -visit to the room they were about to enter. They began by -walking through the apartments, many of which were fitted up -in the Eastern style, with cushions and divans instead of -beds, and pipes instead of furniture. The drawingrooms were -decorated with the rarest pictures by the old masters, the -boudoirs hung with draperies from China, of fanciful colors, -fantastic design, and wonderful texture. At length they -arrived at the famous room. There was nothing particular -about it, excepting that, although daylight had disappeared, -it was not lighted, and everything in it was oldfashioned, -while the rest of the rooms had been redecorated. These two -causes were enough to give it a gloomy aspect. "Oh." cried -Madame de Villefort, "it is really frightful." Madame -Danglars tried to utter a few words, but was not heard. Many -observations were made, the import of which was a unanimous -opinion that there was something sinister about the room. -"Is it not so?" asked Monte Cristo. "Look at that large -clumsy bed, hung with such gloomy, bloodcolored drapery -And those two crayon portraits, that have faded from the -dampness do they not seem to say, with their pale lips and -staring eyes, "We have seen'?" Villefort became livid -Madame Danglars fell into a long seat placed near the -chimney. "Oh," said Madame de Villefort, smiling, "are you -courageous enough to sit down upon the very seat perhaps -upon which the crime was committed?" Madame Danglars rose -suddenly. -"And then," said Monte Cristo, "this is not all." -"What is there more?" said Debray, who had not failed to -notice the agitation of Madame Danglars. -"Ah, what else is there?" said Danglars "for, at present, I -cannot say that I have seen anything extraordinary. What do -you say, M. Cavalcanti?" -"Ah," said he, "we have at Pisa, Ugolino's tower at -Ferrara, Tasso's prison at Rimini, the room of Francesca -and Paolo." -"Yes, but you have not this little staircase," said Monte -Cristo, opening a door concealed by the drapery. "Look at -it, and tell me what you think of it." -"What a wickedlooking, crooked staircase," said -ChateauRenaud with a smile. -"I do not know whether the wine of Chios produces -melancholy, but certainly everything appears to me black in -this house," said Debray. -Ever since Valentine's dowry had been mentioned, Morrel had -been silent and sad. "Can you imagine," said Monte Cristo, -"some Othello or Abbe de Ganges, one stormy, dark night, -descending these stairs step by step, carrying a load, which -he wishes to hide from the sight of man, if not from God?" -Madame Danglars half fainted on the arm of Villefort, who -was obliged to support himself against the wall. "Ah, -madame," cried Debray, "what is the matter with you? how -pale you look" -"It is very evident what is the matter with her," said -Madame de Villefort "M. de Monte Cristo is relating -horrible stories to us, doubtless intending to frighten us -to death." -"Yes," said Villefort, "really, count, you frighten the -ladies." -"What is the matter?" asked Debray, in a whisper, of Madame -Danglars. -"Nothing," she replied with a violent effort. "I want air, -that is all." -"Will you come into the garden?" said Debray, advancing -towards the back staircase. -"No, no," she answered, "I would rather remain here." -"Are you really frightened, madame?" said Monte Cristo. -"Oh, no, sir," said Madame Danglars "but you suppose scenes -in a manner which gives them the appearance of reality." -"Ah, yes," said Monte Cristo smiling "it is all a matter of -imagination. Why should we not imagine this the apartment of -an honest mother? And this bed with red hangings, a bed -visited by the goddess Lucina? And that mysterious -staircase, the passage through which, not to disturb their -sleep, the doctor and nurse pass, or even the father -carrying the sleeping child?" Here Madame Danglars, instead -of being calmed by the soft picture, uttered a groan and -fainted. "Madame Danglars is ill," said Villefort "it would -be better to take her to her carriage." -"Oh, mon Dieu," said Monte Cristo, "and I have forgotten my -smellingbottle" -"I have mine," said Madame de Villefort and she passed over -to Monte Cristo a bottle full of the same kind of red liquid -whose good properties the count had tested on Edward. -"Ah," said Monte Cristo, taking it from her hand. -"Yes," she said, "at your advice I have made the trial." -"And have you succeeded?" -"I think so." -Madame Danglars was carried into the adjoining room Monte -Cristo dropped a very small portion of the red liquid upon -her lips she returned to consciousness. "Ah," she cried, -"what a frightful dream" -Villefort pressed her hand to let her know it was not a -dream. They looked for M. Danglars, but, as he was not -especially interested in poetical ideas, he had gone into -the garden, and was talking with Major Cavalcanti on the -projected railway from Leghorn to Florence. Monte Cristo -seemed in despair. He took the arm of Madame Danglars, and -conducted her into the garden, where they found Danglars -taking coffee between the Cavalcanti. "Really, madame," he -said, "did I alarm you much?" -"Oh, no, sir," she answered "but you know, things impress -us differently, according to the mood of our minds." -Villefort forced a laugh. "And then, you know," he said, "an -idea, a supposition, is sufficient." -"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you may believe me if you like, -but it is my opinion that a crime has been committed in this -house." -"Take care," said Madame de Villefort, "the king's attorney -is here." -"Ah," replied Monte Cristo, "since that is the case, I will -take advantage of his presence to make my declaration." -"Your declaration?" said Villefort. -"Yes, before witnesses." -"Oh, this is very interesting," said Debray "if there -really has been a crime, we will investigate it." -"There has been a crime," said Monte Cristo. "Come this way, -gentlemen come, M. Villefort, for a declaration to be -available, should be made before the competent authorities." -He then took Villefort's arm, and, at the same time, holding -that of Madame Danglars under his own, he dragged the -procureur to the plantaintree, where the shade was -thickest. All the other guests followed. "Stay," said Monte -Cristo, "here, in this very spot" and he stamped upon the -ground, "I had the earth dug up and fresh mould put in, to -refresh these old trees well, my man, digging, found a box, -or rather, the ironwork of a box, in the midst of which was -the skeleton of a newly born infant." Monte Cristo felt the -arm of Madame Danglars stiffen, while that of Villefort -trembled. "A newly born infant," repeated Debray "this -affair becomes serious" -"Well," said ChateauRenaud, "I was not wrong just now then, -when I said that houses had souls and faces like men, and -that their exteriors carried the impress of their -characters. This house was gloomy because it was remorseful -it was remorseful because it concealed a crime." -"Who said it was a crime?" asked Villefort, with a last -effort. -"How? is it not a crime to bury a living child in a garden?" -cried Monte Cristo. "And pray what do you call such an -action?" -"But who said it was buried alive?" -"Why bury it there if it were dead? This garden has never -been a cemetery." -"What is done to infanticides in this country?" asked Major -Cavalcanti innocently. -"Oh, their heads are soon cut off," said Danglars. -"Ah, indeed?" said Cavalcanti. -"I think so am I not right, M. de Villefort?" asked Monte -Cristo. -"Yes, count," replied Villefort, in a voice now scarcely -human. -Monte Cristo, seeing that the two persons for whom he had -prepared this scene could scarcely endure it, and not -wishing to carry it too far, said, "Come, gentlemen, some -coffee, we seem to have forgotten it," and he conducted the -guests back to the table on the lawn. -"Indeed, count," said Madame Danglars, "I am ashamed to own -it, but all your frightful stories have so upset me, that I -must beg you to let me sit down" and she fell into a chair. -Monte Cristo bowed, and went to Madame de Villefort. "I -think Madame Danglars again requires your bottle," he said. -But before Madame de Villefort could reach her friend the -procureur had found time to whisper to Madame Danglars, "I -must speak to you." -"When?" -"Tomorrow." -"Where?" -"In my office, or in the court, if you like, that is the -surest place." -"I will be there." At this moment Madame de Villefort -approached. "Thanks, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, -trying to smile "it is over now, and I am much better." -Chapter -The Beggar. -The evening passed on Madame de Villefort expressed a -desire to return to Paris, which Madame Danglars had not -dared to do, notwithstanding the uneasiness she experienced. -On his wife's request, M. de Villefort was the first to give -the signal of departure. He offered a seat in his landau to -Madame Danglars, that she might be under the care of his -wife. As for M. Danglars, absorbed in an interesting -conversation with M. Cavalcanti, he paid no attention to -anything that was passing. While Monte Cristo had begged the -smellingbottle of Madame de Villefort, he had noticed the -approach of Villefort to Madame Danglars, and he soon -guessed all that had passed between them, though the words -had been uttered in so low a voice as hardly to be heard by -Madame Danglars. Without opposing their arrangements, he -allowed Morrel, ChateauRenaud, and Debray to leave on -horseback, and the ladies in M. de Villefort's carriage. -Danglars, more and more delighted with Major Cavalcanti, had -offered him a seat in his carriage. Andrea Cavalcanti found -his tilbury waiting at the door the groom, in every respect -a caricature of the English fashion, was standing on tiptoe -to hold a large irongray horse. -Andrea had spoken very little during dinner he was an -intelligent lad, and he feared to utter some absurdity -before so many grand people, amongst whom, with dilating -eyes, he saw the king's attorney. Then he had been seized -upon by Danglars, who, with a rapid glance at the -stiffnecked old major and his modest son, and taking into -consideration the hospitality of the count, made up his mind -that he was in the society of some nabob come to Paris to -finish the worldly education of his heir. He contemplated -with unspeakable delight the large diamond which shone on -the major's little finger for the major, like a prudent -man, in case of any accident happening to his banknotes, -had immediately converted them into an available asset. -Then, after dinner, on the pretext of business, he -questioned the father and son upon their mode of living and -the father and son, previously informed that it was through -Danglars the one was to receive his , francs and the -other , livres annually, were so full of affability -that they would have shaken hands even with the banker's -servants, so much did their gratitude need an object to -expend itself upon. One thing above all the rest heightened -the respect, nay almost the veneration, of Danglars for -Cavalcanti. The latter, faithful to the principle of Horace, -nil admirari, had contented himself with showing his -knowledge by declaring in what lake the best lampreys were -caught. Then he had eaten some without saying a word more -Danglars, therefore, concluded that such luxuries were -common at the table of the illustrious descendant of the -Cavalcanti, who most likely in Lucca fed upon trout brought -from Switzerland, and lobsters sent from England, by the -same means used by the count to bring the lampreys from Lake -Fusaro, and the sterlet from the Volga. Thus it was with -much politeness of manner that he heard Cavalcanti pronounce -these words, "Tomorrow, sir, I shall have the honor of -waiting upon you on business." -"And I, sir," said Danglars, "shall be most happy to receive -you." Upon which he offered to take Cavalcanti in his -carriage to the Hotel des Princes, if it would not be -depriving him of the company of his son. To this Cavalcanti -replied by saying that for some time past his son had lived -independently of him, that he had his own horses and -carriages, and that not having come together, it would not -be difficult for them to leave separately. The major seated -himself, therefore, by the side of Danglars, who was more -and more charmed with the ideas of order and economy which -ruled this man, and yet who, being able to allow his son -, francs a year, might be supposed to possess a fortune -of , or , livres. -As for Andrea, he began, by way of showing off, to scold his -groom, who, instead of bringing the tilbury to the steps of -the house, had taken it to the outer door, thus giving him -the trouble of walking thirty steps to reach it. The groom -heard him with humility, took the bit of the impatient -animal with his left hand, and with the right held out the -reins to Andrea, who, taking them from him, rested his -polished boot lightly on the step. At that moment a hand -touched his shoulder. The young man turned round, thinking -that Danglars or Monte Cristo had forgotten something they -wished to tell him, and had returned just as they were -starting. But instead of either of these, he saw nothing but -a strange face, sunburnt, and encircled by a beard, with -eyes brilliant as carbuncles, and a smile upon the mouth -which displayed a perfect set of white teeth, pointed and -sharp as the wolf's or jackal's. A red handkerchief -encircled his gray head torn and filthy garments covered -his large bony limbs, which seemed as though, like those of -a skeleton, they would rattle as he walked and the hand -with which he leaned upon the young man's shoulder, and -which was the first thing Andrea saw, seemed of gigantic -size. Did the young man recognize that face by the light of -the lantern in his tilbury, or was he merely struck with the -horrible appearance of his interrogator? We cannot say but -only relate the fact that he shuddered and stepped back -suddenly. "What do you want of me?" he asked. -"Pardon me, my friend, if I disturb you," said the man with -the red handkerchief, "but I want to speak to you." -"You have no right to beg at night," said the groom, -endeavoring to rid his master of the troublesome intruder. -"I am not begging, my fine fellow," said the unknown to the -servant, with so ironical an expression of the eye, and so -frightful a smile, that he withdrew "I only wish to say two -or three words to your master, who gave me a commission to -execute about a fortnight ago." -"Come," said Andrea, with sufficient nerve for his servant -not to perceive his agitation, "what do you want? Speak -quickly, friend." -The man said, in a low voice "I wish I wish you to spare -me the walk back to Paris. I am very tired, and as I have -not eaten so good a dinner as you, I can scarcely stand." -The young man shuddered at this strange familiarity. "Tell -me," he said "tell me what you want?" -"Well, then, I want you to take me up in your fine carriage, -and carry me back." Andrea turned pale, but said nothing. -"Yes," said the man, thrusting his hands into his pockets, -and looking impudently at the youth "I have taken the whim -into my head do you understand, Master Benedetto?" -At this name, no doubt, the young man reflected a little, -for he went towards his groom, saying, "This man is right I -did indeed charge him with a commission, the result of which -he must tell me walk to the barrier, there take a cab, that -you may not be too late." The surprised groom retired. "Let -me at least reach a shady spot," said Andrea. -"Oh, as for that, I'll take you to a splendid place," said -the man with the handkerchief and taking the horse's bit he -led the tilbury where it was certainly impossible for any -one to witness the honor that Andrea conferred upon him. -"Don't think I want the glory of riding in your fine -carriage," said he "oh, no, it's only because I am tired, -and also because I have a little business to talk over with -you." -"Come, step in," said the young man. It was a pity this -scene had not occurred in daylight, for it was curious to -see this rascal throwing himself heavily down on the cushion -beside the young and elegant driver of the tilbury. Andrea -drove past the last house in the village without saying a -word to his companion, who smiled complacently, as though -wellpleased to find himself travelling in so comfortable a -vehicle. Once out of Auteuil, Andrea looked around, in order -to assure himself that he could neither be seen nor heard, -and then, stopping the horse and crossing his arms before -the man, he asked, "Now, tell me why you come to disturb -my tranquillity?" -"Let me ask you why you deceived me?" -"How have I deceived you?" -""How,' do you ask? When we parted at the Pont du Var, you -told me you were going to travel through Piedmont and -Tuscany but instead of that, you come to Paris." -"How does that annoy you?" -"It does not on the contrary, I think it will answer my -purpose." -"So," said Andrea, "you are speculating upon me?" -"What fine words he uses" -"I warn you, Master Caderousse, that you are mistaken." -"Well, well, don't be angry, my boy you know well enough -what it is to be unfortunate and misfortunes make us -jealous. I thought you were earning a living in Tuscany or -Piedmont by acting as facchino or cicerone, and I pitied you -sincerely, as I would a child of my own. You know I always -did call you my child." -"Come, come, what then?" -"Patience patience" -"I am patient, but go on." -"All at once I see you pass through the barrier with a -groom, a tilbury, and fine new clothes. You must have -discovered a mine, or else become a stockbroker." -"So that, as you confess, you are jealous?" -"No, I am pleased so pleased that I wished to -congratulate you but as I am not quite properly dressed, I -chose my opportunity, that I might not compromise you." -"Yes, and a fine opportunity you have chosen" exclaimed -Andrea "you speak to me before my servant." -"How can I help that, my boy? I speak to you when I can -catch you. You have a quick horse, a light tilbury, you are -naturally as slippery as an eel if I had missed you -tonight, I might not have had another chance." -"You see, I do not conceal myself." -"You are lucky I wish I could say as much, for I do conceal -myself and then I was afraid you would not recognize me, -but you did," added Caderousse with his unpleasant smile. -"It was very polite of you." -"Come," said Andrea, "what do you want?" -"You do not speak affectionately to me, Benedetto, my old -friend, that is not right take care, or I may become -troublesome." This menace smothered the young man's passion. -He urged the horse again into a trot. "You should not speak -so to an old friend like me, Caderousse, as you said just -now you are a native of Marseilles, I am" -"Do you know then now what you are?" -"No, but I was brought up in Corsica you are old and -obstinate, I am young and wilful. Between people like us -threats are out of place, everything should be amicably -arranged. Is it my fault if fortune, which has frowned on -you, has been kind to me?" -"Fortune has been kind to you, then? Your tilbury, your -groom, your clothes, are not then hired? Good, so much the -better," said Caderousse, his eyes sparkling with avarice. -"Oh, you knew that well enough before speaking to me," said -Andrea, becoming more and more excited. "If I had been -wearing a handkerchief like yours on my head, rags on my -back, and wornout shoes on my feet, you would not have -known me." -"You wrong me, my boy now I have found you, nothing -prevents my being as welldressed as any one, knowing, as I -do, the goodness of your heart. If you have two coats you -will give me one of them. I used to divide my soup and beans -with you when you were hungry." -"True," said Andrea. -"What an appetite you used to have Is it as good now?" -"Oh, yes," replied Andrea, laughing. -"How did you come to be dining with that prince whose house -you have just left?" -"He is not a prince simply a count." -"A count, and a rich one too, eh?" -"Yes but you had better not have anything to say to him, -for he is not a very goodtempered gentleman." -"Oh, be easy I have no design upon your count, and you -shall have him all to yourself. But," said Caderousse, again -smiling with the disagreeable expression he had before -assumed, "you must pay for it you understand?" -"Well, what do you want?" -"I think that with a hundred francs a month" -"Well?" -"I could live" -"Upon a hundred francs" -"Come you understand me but that with" -"With?" -"With a hundred and fifty francs I should be quite happy." -"Here are two hundred," said Andrea and he placed ten gold -louis in the hand of Caderousse. -"Good" said Caderousse. -"Apply to the steward on the first day of every month, and -you will receive the same sum." -"There now, again you degrade me." -"How so?" -"By making me apply to the servants, when I want to transact -business with you alone." -"Well, be it so, then. Take it from me then, and so long at -least as I receive my income, you shall be paid yours." -"Come, come I always said you were a fine fellow, and it is -a blessing when good fortune happens to such as you. But -tell me all about it?" -"Why do you wish to know?" asked Cavalcanti. -"What? do you again defy me?" -"No the fact is, I have found my father." -"What? a real father?" -"Yes, so long as he pays me" -"You'll honor and believe him that's right. What is his -name?" -"Major Cavalcanti." -"Is he pleased with you?" -"So far I have appeared to answer his purpose." -"And who found this father for you?" -"The Count of Monte Cristo." -"The man whose house you have just left?" -"Yes." -"I wish you would try and find me a situation with him as -grandfather, since he holds the moneychest" -"Well, I will mention you to him. Meanwhile, what are you -going to do?" -"I?" -"Yes, you." -"It is very kind of you to trouble yourself about me." -"Since you interest yourself in my affairs, I think it is -now my turn to ask you some questions." -"Ah, true. Well I shall rent a room in some respectable -house, wear a decent coat, shave every day, and go and read -the papers in a cafe. Then, in the evening, I shall go to -the theatre I shall look like some retired baker. That is -what I want." -"Come, if you will only put this scheme into execution, and -be steady, nothing could be better." -"Do you think so, M. Bossuet? And you what will you -become? A peer of France?" -"Ah," said Andrea, "who knows?" -"Major Cavalcanti is already one, perhaps but then, -hereditary rank is abolished." -"No politics, Caderousse. And now that you have all you -want, and that we understand each other, jump down from the -tilbury and disappear." -"Not at all, my good friend." -"How? Not at all?" -"Why, just think for a moment with this red handkerchief on -my head, with scarcely any shoes, no papers, and ten gold -napoleons in my pocket, without reckoning what was there -before making in all about two hundred francs, why, I -should certainly be arrested at the barriers. Then, to -justify myself, I should say that you gave me the money -this would cause inquiries, it would be found that I left -Toulon without giving due notice, and I should then be -escorted back to the shores of the Mediterranean. Then I -should become simply No. , and goodby to my dream of -resembling the retired baker No, no, my boy I prefer -remaining honorably in the capital." Andrea scowled. -Certainly, as he had himself owned, the reputed son of Major -Cavalcanti was a wilful fellow. He drew up for a minute, -threw a rapid glance around him, and then his hand fell -instantly into his pocket, where it began playing with a -pistol. But, meanwhile, Caderousse, who had never taken his -eyes off his companion, passed his hand behind his back, and -opened a long Spanish knife, which he always carried with -him, to be ready in case of need. The two friends, as we -see, were worthy of and understood one another. Andrea's -hand left his pocket inoffensively, and was carried up to -the red mustache, which it played with for some time. "Good -Caderousse," he said, "how happy you will be." -"I will do my best," said the innkeeper of the Pont du -Gard, shutting up his knife. -"Well, then, we will go into Paris. But how will you pass -through the barrier without exciting suspicion? It seems to -me that you are in more danger riding than on foot." -"Wait," said Caderousse, "we shall see." He then took the -greatcoat with the large collar, which the groom had left -behind in the tilbury, and put it on his back then he took -off Cavalcanti's hat, which he placed upon his own head, and -finally he assumed the careless attitude of a servant whose -master drives himself. -"But, tell me," said Andrea, "am I to remain bareheaded?" -"Pooh," said Caderousse "it is so windy that your hat can -easily appear to have blown off." -"Come, come enough of this," said Cavalcanti. -"What are you waiting for?" said Caderousse. "I hope I am -not the cause." -"Hush," said Andrea. They passed the barrier without -accident. At the first cross street Andrea stopped his -horse, and Caderousse leaped out. -"Well" said Andrea, "my servant's coat and my hat?" -"Ah," said Caderousse, "you would not like me to risk taking -cold?" -"But what am I to do?" -"You? Oh, you are young while I am beginning to get old. Au -revoir, Benedetto" and running into a court, he -disappeared. "Alas," said Andrea, sighing, "one cannot be -completely happy in this world" -Chapter -A Conjugal Scene. -At the Place Louis XV. the three young people separated -that is to say, Morrel went to the Boulevards, -ChateauRenaud to the Pont de la Revolution, and Debray to -the Quai. Most probably Morrel and ChateauRenaud returned -to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the gallery of -the Chamber in wellturned speeches, and in the theatre of -the Rue Richelieu in wellwritten pieces but it was not the -case with Debray. When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, -he turned to the left, galloped across the Carrousel, passed -through the Rue SaintRoch, and, issuing from the Rue de la -Michodiere, he arrived at M. Danglars' door just at the same -time that Villefort's landau, after having deposited him and -his wife at the Faubourg St. Honore, stopped to leave the -baroness at her own house. Debray, with the air of a man -familiar with the house, entered first into the court, threw -his bridle into the hands of a footman, and returned to the -door to receive Madame Danglars, to whom he offered his arm, -to conduct her to her apartments. The gate once closed, and -Debray and the baroness alone in the court, he asked, -"What was the matter with you, Hermine? and why were you so -affected at that story, or rather fable, which the count -related?" -"Because I have been in such shocking spirits all the -evening, my friend," said the baroness. -"No, Hermine," replied Debray "you cannot make me believe -that on the contrary, you were in excellent spirits when -you arrived at the count's. M. Danglars was disagreeable, -certainly, but I know how much you care for his illhumor. -Some one has vexed you I will allow no one to annoy you." -"You are deceived, Lucien, I assure you," replied Madame -Danglars "and what I have told you is really the case, -added to the illhumor you remarked, but which I did not -think it worth while to allude to." It was evident that -Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervous irritability -which women frequently cannot account for even to -themselves or that, as Debray had guessed, she had -experienced some secret agitation that she would not -acknowledge to any one. Being a man who knew that the former -of these symptoms was one of the inherent penalties of -womanhood, he did not then press his inquiries, but waited -for a more appropriate opportunity when he should again -interrogate her, or receive an avowal proprio motu. At the -door of her apartment the baroness met Mademoiselle -Cornelie, her confidential maid. "What is my daughter -doing?" asked Madame Danglars. -"She practiced all the evening, and then went to bed," -replied Mademoiselle Cornelie. -"Yet I think I hear her piano." -"It is Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who is playing while -Mademoiselle Danglars is in bed." -"Well," said Madame Danglars, "come and undress me." They -entered the bedroom. Debray stretched himself upon a large -couch, and Madame Danglars passed into her dressingroom -with Mademoiselle Cornelie. "My dear M. Lucien," said Madame -Danglars through the door, "you are always complaining that -Eugenie will not address a word to you." -"Madame," said Lucien, playing with a little dog, who, -recognizing him as a friend of the house, expected to be -caressed, "I am not the only one who makes similar -complaints, I think I heard Morcerf say that he could not -extract a word from his betrothed." -"True," said Madame Danglars "yet I think this will all -pass off, and that you will one day see her enter your -study." -"My study?" -"At least that of the minister." -"Why so" -"To ask for an engagement at the Opera. Really, I never saw -such an infatuation for music it is quite ridiculous for a -young lady of fashion." Debray smiled. "Well," said he, "let -her come, with your consent and that of the baron, and we -will try and give her an engagement, though we are very poor -to pay such talent as hers." -"Go, Cornelie," said Madame Danglars, "I do not require you -any longer." -Cornelie obeyed, and the next minute Madame Danglars left -her room in a charming loose dress, and came and sat down -close to Debray. Then she began thoughtfully to caress the -little spaniel. Lucien looked at her for a moment in -silence. "Come, Hermine," he said, after a short time, -"answer candidly, something vexes you is it not so?" -"Nothing," answered the baroness. -And yet, as she could scarcely breathe, she rose and went -towards a lookingglass. "I am frightful tonight," she -said. Debray rose, smiling, and was about to contradict the -baroness upon this latter point, when the door opened -suddenly. M. Danglars appeared Debray reseated himself. At -the noise of the door Madame Danglars turned round, and -looked upon her husband with an astonishment she took no -trouble to conceal. "Goodevening, madame," said the banker -"goodevening, M. Debray." -Probably the baroness thought this unexpected visit -signified a desire to make up for the sharp words he had -uttered during the day. Assuming a dignified air, she turned -round to Debray, without answering her husband. "Read me -something, M. Debray," she said. Debray, who was slightly -disturbed at this visit, recovered himself when he saw the -calmness of the baroness, and took up a book marked by a -motherofpearl knife inlaid with gold. "Excuse me," said -the banker, "but you will tire yourself, baroness, by such -late hours, and M. Debray lives some distance from here." -Debray was petrified, not only to hear Danglars speak so -calmly and politely, but because it was apparent that -beneath outward politeness there really lurked a determined -spirit of opposition to anything his wife might wish to do. -The baroness was also surprised, and showed her astonishment -by a look which would doubtless have had some effect upon -her husband if he had not been intently occupied with the -paper, where he was looking to see the closing stock -quotations. The result was, that the proud look entirely -failed of its purpose. -"M. Lucien," said the baroness, "I assure you I have no -desire to sleep, and that I have a thousand things to tell -you this evening, which you must listen to, even though you -slept while hearing me." -"I am at your service, madame," replied Lucien coldly. -"My dear M. Debray," said the banker, "do not kill yourself -tonight listening to the follies of Madame Danglars, for -you can hear them as well tomorrow but I claim tonight -and will devote it, if you will allow me, to talk over some -serious matters with my wife." This time the blow was so -well aimed, and hit so directly, that Lucien and the -baroness were staggered, and they interrogated each other -with their eyes, as if to seek help against this aggression, -but the irresistible will of the master of the house -prevailed, and the husband was victorious. -"Do not think I wish to turn you out, my dear Debray," -continued Danglars "oh, no, not at all. An unexpected -occurrence forces me to ask my wife to have a little -conversation with me it is so rarely I make such a request, -I am sure you cannot grudge it to me." Debray muttered -something, bowed and went out, knocking himself against the -edge of the door, like Nathan in "Athalie." -"It is extraordinary," he said, when the door was closed -behind him, "how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, -gain an advantage over us." -Lucien having left, Danglars took his place on the sofa, -closed the open book, and placing himself in a dreadfully -dictatorial attitude, he began playing with the dog but the -animal, not liking him as well as Debray, and attempting to -bite him, Danglars seized him by the skin of his neck and -threw him upon a couch on the other side of the room. The -animal uttered a cry during the transit, but, arrived at its -destination, it crouched behind the cushions, and stupefied -at such unusual treatment remained silent and motionless. -"Do you know, sir," asked the baroness, "that you are -improving? Generally you are only rude, but tonight you are -brutal." -"It is because I am in a worse humor than usual," replied -Danglars. Hermine looked at the banker with supreme disdain. -These glances frequently exasperated the pride of Danglars, -but this evening he took no notice of them. -"And what have I to do with your illhumor?" said the -baroness, irritated at the impassibility of her husband "do -these things concern me? Keep your illhumor at home in your -money boxes, or, since you have clerks whom you pay, vent it -upon them." -"Not so," replied Danglars "your advice is wrong, so I -shall not follow it. My money boxes are my Pactolus, as, I -think, M. Demoustier says, and I will not retard its course, -or disturb its calm. My clerks are honest men, who earn my -fortune, whom I pay much below their deserts, if I may value -them according to what they bring in therefore I shall not -get into a passion with them those with whom I will be in a -passion are those who eat my dinners, mount my horses, and -exhaust my fortune." -"And pray who are the persons who exhaust your fortune? -Explain yourself more clearly, I beg, sir." -"Oh, make yourself easy I am not speaking riddles, and -you will soon know what I mean. The people who exhaust my -fortune are those who draw out , francs in the course -of an hour." -"I do not understand you, sir," said the baroness, trying to -disguise the agitation of her voice and the flush of her -face. "You understand me perfectly, on the contrary," said -Danglars "but, if you will persist, I will tell you that I -have just lost , francs upon the Spanish loan." -"And pray," asked the baroness, "am I responsible for this -loss?" -"Why not?" -"Is it my fault you have lost , francs?" -"Certainly it is not mine." -"Once for all, sir," replied the baroness sharply, "I tell -you I will not hear cash named it is a style of language I -never heard in the house of my parents or in that of my -first husband." -"Oh, I can well believe that, for neither of them was worth -a penny." -"The better reason for my not being conversant with the -slang of the bank, which is here dinning in my ears from -morning to night that noise of jingling crowns, which are -constantly being counted and recounted, is odious to me. I -only know one thing I dislike more, which is the sound of -your voice." -"Really?" said Danglars. "Well, this surprises me, for I -thought you took the liveliest interest in all my affairs" -"I? What could put such an idea into your head?" -"Yourself." -"Ah? what next?" -"Most assuredly." -"I should like to know upon what occasion?" -"Oh, mon Dieu, that is very easily done. Last February you -were the first who told me of the Haitian funds. You had -dreamed that a ship had entered the harbor at Havre, that -this ship brought news that a payment we had looked upon as -lost was going to be made. I know how clearsighted your -dreams are I therefore purchased immediately as many shares -as I could of the Haitian debt, and I gained , francs -by it, of which , have been honestly paid to you. You -spent it as you pleased that was your business. In March -there was a question about a grant to a railway. Three -companies presented themselves, each offering equal -securities. You told me that your instinct, and although -you pretend to know nothing about speculations, I think on -the contrary, that your comprehension is very clear upon -certain affairs, well, you told me that your instinct led -you to believe the grant would be given to the company -called the Southern. I bought two thirds of the shares of -that company as you had foreseen, the shares trebled in -value, and I picked up a million, from which , francs -were paid to you for pinmoney. How have you spent this -, francs? it is no business of mine." -"When are you coming to the point?" cried the baroness, -shivering with anger and impatience. -"Patience, madame, I am coming to it." -"That's fortunate." -"In April you went to dine at the minister's. You heard a -private conversation respecting Spanish affairs on the -expulsion of Don Carlos. I bought some Spanish shares. The -expulsion took place and I pocketed , francs the day -Charles V. repassed the Bidassoa. Of these , francs -you took , crowns. They were yours, you disposed of -them according to your fancy, and I asked no questions but -it is not the less true that you have this year received -, livres." -"Well, sir, and what then?" -"Ah, yes, it was just after this that you spoiled -everything." -"Really, your manner of speaking" -"It expresses my meaning, and that is all I want. Well, -three days after that you talked politics with M. Debray, -and you fancied from his words that Don Carlos had returned -to Spain. Well, I sold my shares, the news got out, and I no -longer sold I gave them away, next day I find the news -was false, and by this false report I have lost , -francs." -"Well?" -"Well, since I gave you a fourth of my gains, I think you -owe me a fourth of my losses the fourth of , francs -is , francs." -"What you say is absurd, and I cannot see why M. Debray's -name is mixed up in this affair." -"Because if you do not possess the , francs I reclaim, -you must have lent them to your friends, and M. Debray is -one of your friends." -"For shame" exclaimed the baroness. -"Oh, let us have no gestures, no screams, no modern drama, -or you will oblige me to tell you that I see Debray leave -here, pocketing the whole of the , livres you have -handed over to him this year, while he smiles to himself, -saying that he has found what the most skilful players have -never discovered that is, a roulette where he wins -without playing, and is no loser when he loses." The -baroness became enraged. "Wretch" she cried, "will you dare -to tell me you did not know what you now reproach me with?" -"I do not say that I did know it, and I do not say that I -did not know it. I merely tell you to look into my conduct -during the last four years that we have ceased to be husband -and wife, and see whether it has not always been consistent. -Some time after our rupture, you wished to study music, -under the celebrated baritone who made such a successful -appearance at the Theatre Italien at the same time I felt -inclined to learn dancing of the danseuse who acquired such -a reputation in London. This cost me, on your account and -mine, , francs. I said nothing, for we must have peace -in the house and , francs for a lady and gentleman to -be properly instructed in music and dancing are not too -much. Well, you soon become tired of singing, and you take a -fancy to study diplomacy with the minister's secretary. You -understand, it signifies nothing to me so long as you pay -for your lessons out of your own cashbox. But today I find -you are drawing on mine, and that your apprenticeship may -cost me , francs per month. Stop there, madame, for -this cannot last. Either the diplomatist must give his -lessons gratis, and I will tolerate him, or he must never -set his foot again in my house do you understand, -madame?" -"Oh, this is too much," cried Hermine, choking, "you are -worse than despicable." -"But," continued Danglars, "I find you did not even pause -there" -"Insults" -"You are right let us leave these facts alone, and reason -coolly. I have never interfered in your affairs excepting -for your good treat me in the same way. You say you have -nothing to do with my cashbox. Be it so. Do as you like -with your own, but do not fill or empty mine. Besides, how -do I know that this was not a political trick, that the -minister enraged at seeing me in the opposition, and jealous -of the popular sympathy I excite, has not concerted with M. -Debray to ruin me?" -"A probable thing" -"Why not? Who ever heard of such an occurrence as this? a -false telegraphic despatch it is almost impossible for -wrong signals to be made as they were in the last two -telegrams. It was done on purpose for me I am sure of -it." -"Sir," said the baroness humbly, "are you not aware that the -man employed there was dismissed, that they talked of going -to law with him, that orders were issued to arrest him and -that this order would have been put into execution if he had -not escaped by flight, which proves that he was either mad -or guilty? It was a mistake." -"Yes, which made fools laugh, which caused the minister to -have a sleepless night, which has caused the minister's -secretaries to blacken several sheets of paper, but which -has cost me , francs." -"But, sir," said Hermine suddenly, "if all this is, as you -say, caused by M. Debray, why, instead of going direct to -him, do you come and tell me of it? Why, to accuse the man, -do you address the woman?" -"Do I know M. Debray? do I wish to know him? do I wish -to know that he gives advice? do I wish to follow it? -do I speculate? No you do all this, not I." -"Still it seems to me, that as you profit by it " -Danglars shrugged his shoulders. "Foolish creature," he -exclaimed. "Women fancy they have talent because they have -managed two or three intrigues without being the talk of -Paris But know that if you had even hidden your -irregularities from your husband, who has but the -commencement of the art for generally husbands will not -see you would then have been but a faint imitation of -most of your friends among the women of the world. But it -has not been so with me, I see, and always have seen, -during the last sixteen years. You may, perhaps, have hidden -a thought but not a step, not an action, not a fault, has -escaped me, while you flattered yourself upon your address, -and firmly believed you had deceived me. What has been the -result? that, thanks to my pretended ignorance, there is -none of your friends, from M. de Villefort to M. Debray, who -has not trembled before me. There is not one who has not -treated me as the master of the house, the only title I -desire with respect to you there is not one, in fact, who -would have dared to speak of me as I have spoken of them -this day. I will allow you to make me hateful, but I will -prevent your rendering me ridiculous, and, above all, I -forbid you to ruin me." -The baroness had been tolerably composed until the name of -Villefort had been pronounced but then she became pale, -and, rising, as if touched by a spring, she stretched out -her hands as though conjuring an apparition she then took -two or three steps towards her husband, as though to tear -the secret from him, of which he was ignorant, or which he -withheld from some odious calculation, odious, as all his -calculations were. "M. de Villefort What do you mean?" -"I mean that M. de Nargonne, your first husband, being -neither a philosopher nor a banker, or perhaps being both, -and seeing there was nothing to be got out of a king's -attorney, died of grief or anger at finding, after an -absence of nine months, that you had been enceinte six. I am -brutal, I not only allow it, but boast of it it is one -of the reasons of my success in commercial business. Why did -he kill himself instead of you? Because he had no cash to -save. My life belongs to my cash. M. Debray has made me lose -, francs let him bear his share of the loss, and we -will go on as before if not, let him become bankrupt for -the , livres, and do as all bankrupts do disappear. -He is a charming fellow, I allow, when his news is correct -but when it is not, there are fifty others in the world who -would do better than he." -Madame Danglars was rooted to the spot she made a violent -effort to reply to this last attack, but she fell upon a -chair thinking of Villefort, of the dinner scene, of the -strange series of misfortunes which had taken place in her -house during the last few days, and changed the usual calm -of her establishment to a scene of scandalous debate. -Danglars did not even look at her, though she did her best -to faint. He shut the bedroom door after him, without adding -another word, and returned to his apartments and when -Madame Danglars recovered from her halffainting condition, -she could almost believe that she had had a disagreeable -dream. -Chapter -Matrimonial Projects. -The day following this scene, at the hour the banker usually -chose to pay a visit to Madame Danglars on his way to his -office, his coupe did not appear. At this time, that is, -about halfpast twelve, Madame Danglars ordered her -carriage, and went out. Danglars, hidden behind a curtain, -watched the departure he had been waiting for. He gave -orders that he should be informed as soon as Madame Danglars -appeared but at two o'clock she had not returned. He then -called for his horses, drove to the Chamber, and inscribed -his name to speak against the budget. From twelve to two -o'clock Danglars had remained in his study, unsealing his -dispatches, and becoming more and more sad every minute, -heaping figure upon figure, and receiving, among other -visits, one from Major Cavalcanti, who, as stiff and exact -as ever, presented himself precisely at the hour named the -night before, to terminate his business with the banker. On -leaving the Chamber, Danglars, who had shown violent marks -of agitation during the sitting, and been more bitter than -ever against the ministry, reentered his carriage, and told -the coachman to drive to the Avenue des ChampsElysees, No. -Monte Cristo was at home only he was engaged with some one -and begged Danglars to wait for a moment in the -drawingroom. While the banker was waiting in the anteroom, -the door opened, and a man dressed as an abbe and doubtless -more familiar with the house than he was, came in and -instead of waiting, merely bowed, passed on to the farther -apartments, and disappeared. A minute after the door by -which the priest had entered reopened, and Monte Cristo -appeared. "Pardon me," said he, "my dear baron, but one of -my friends, the Abbe Busoni, whom you perhaps saw pass by, -has just arrived in Paris not having seen him for a long -time, I could not make up my mind to leave him sooner, so I -hope this will be sufficient reason for my having made you -wait." -"Nay," said Danglars, "it is my fault I have chosen my -visit at a wrong time, and will retire." -"Not at all on the contrary, be seated but what is the -matter with you? You look careworn really, you alarm me. -Melancholy in a capitalist, like the appearance of a comet, -presages some misfortune to the world." -"I have been in illluck for several days," said Danglars, -"and I have heard nothing but bad news." -"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo. "Have you had another fall -at the Bourse?" -"No I am safe for a few days at least. I am only annoyed -about a bankrupt of Trieste." -"Really? Does it happen to be Jacopo Manfredi?" -"Exactly so. Imagine a man who has transacted business with -me for I don't know how long, to the amount of , or -, francs during the year. Never a mistake or delay -a fellow who paid like a prince. Well, I was a million in -advance with him, and now my fine Jacopo Manfredi suspends -payment" -"Really?" -"It is an unheardof fatality. I draw upon him for , -francs, my bills are returned unpaid, and, more than that, I -hold bills of exchange signed by him to the value of , -francs, payable at his correspondent's in Paris at the end -of this month. Today is the th. I present them but my -correspondent has disappeared. This, with my Spanish -affairs, made a pretty end to the month." -"Then you really lost by that affair in Spain?" -"Yes only , francs out of my cashbox nothing -more" -"Why, how could you make such a mistake such an old -stager?" -"Oh, it is all my wife's fault. She dreamed Don Carlos had -returned to Spain she believes in dreams. It is magnetism, -she says, and when she dreams a thing it is sure to happen, -she assures me. On this conviction I allow her to speculate, -she having her bank and her stockbroker she speculated and -lost. It is true she speculates with her own money, not -mine nevertheless, you can understand that when , -francs leave the wife's pocket, the husband always finds it -out. But do you mean to say you have not heard of this? Why, -the thing has made a tremendous noise." -"Yes, I heard it spoken of, but I did not know the details, -and then no one can be more ignorant than I am of the -affairs in the Bourse." -"Then you do not speculate?" -"I? How could I speculate when I already have so much -trouble in regulating my income? I should be obliged, -besides my steward, to keep a clerk and a boy. But touching -these Spanish affairs, I think that the baroness did not -dream the whole of the Don Carlos matter. The papers said -something about it, did they not?" -"Then you believe the papers?" -"I? not the least in the world only I fancied that the -honest Messager was an exception to the rule, and that it -only announced telegraphic despatches." -"Well, that's what puzzles me," replied Danglars "the news -of the return of Don Carlos was brought by telegraph." -"So that," said Monte Cristo, "you have lost nearly -,, francs this month." -"Not nearly, indeed that is exactly my loss." -"Diable," said Monte Cristo compassionately, "it is a hard -blow for a thirdrate fortune." -"Thirdrate," said Danglars, rather humble, "what do you -mean by that?" -"Certainly," continued Monte Cristo, "I make three -assortments in fortune firstrate, secondrate, and -thirdrate fortunes. I call those firstrate which are -composed of treasures one possesses under one's hand, such -as mines, lands, and funded property, in such states as -France, Austria, and England, provided these treasures and -property form a total of about a hundred millions I call -those secondrate fortunes, that are gained by manufacturing -enterprises, jointstock companies, viceroyalties, and -principalities, not drawing more than ,, francs, the -whole forming a capital of about fifty millions finally, I -call those thirdrate fortunes, which are composed of a -fluctuating capital, dependent upon the will of others, or -upon chances which a bankruptcy involves or a false telegram -shakes, such as banks, speculations of the day in fact, -all operations under the influence of greater or less -mischances, the whole bringing in a real or fictitious -capital of about fifteen millions. I think this is about -your position, is it not?" -"Confound it, yes" replied Danglars. -"The result, then, of six more such months as this would be -to reduce the thirdrate house to despair." -"Oh," said Danglars, becoming very pale, how you are running -on" -"Let us imagine seven such months," continued Monte Cristo, -in the same tone. "Tell me, have you ever thought that seven -times ,, francs make nearly twelve millions? No, you -have not well, you are right, for if you indulged in -such reflections, you would never risk your principal, which -is to the speculator what the skin is to civilized man. We -have our clothes, some more splendid than others, this is -our credit but when a man dies he has only his skin in the -same way, on retiring from business, you have nothing but -your real principal of about five or six millions, at the -most for thirdrate fortunes are never more than a fourth -of what they appear to be, like the locomotive on a railway, -the size of which is magnified by the smoke and steam -surrounding it. Well, out of the five or six millions which -form your real capital, you have just lost nearly two -millions, which must, of course, in the same degree diminish -your credit and fictitious fortune to follow out my simile, -your skin has been opened by bleeding, and this if repeated -three or four times will cause death so pay attention to -it, my dear Monsieur Danglars. Do you want money? Do you -wish me to lend you some?" -"What a bad calculator you are" exclaimed Danglars, calling -to his assistance all his philosophy and dissimulation. "I -have made money at the same time by speculations which have -succeeded. I have made up the loss of blood by nutrition. I -lost a battle in Spain, I have been defeated in Trieste, but -my naval army in India will have taken some galleons, and my -Mexican pioneers will have discovered some mine." -"Very good, very good But the wound remains and will reopen -at the first loss." -"No, for I am only embarked in certainties," replied -Danglars, with the air of a mountebank sounding his own -praises "to involve me, three governments must crumble to -dust." -"Well, such things have been." -"That there should be a famine" -"Recollect the seven fat and the seven lean kine." -"Or, that the sea should become dry, as in the days of -Pharaoh, and even then my vessels would become caravans." -"So much the better. I congratulate you, my dear M. -Danglars," said Monte Cristo "I see I was deceived, and -that you belong to the class of secondrate fortunes." -"I think I may aspire to that honor," said Danglars with a -smile, which reminded Monte Cristo of the sickly moons which -bad artists are so fond of daubing into their pictures of -ruins. "But, while we are speaking of business," Danglars -added, pleased to find an opportunity of changing the -subject, "tell me what I am to do for M. Cavalcanti." -"Give him money, if he is recommended to you, and the -recommendation seems good." -"Excellent he presented himself this morning with a bond of -, francs, payable at sight, on you, signed by Busoni, -and returned by you to me, with your indorsement of -course, I immediately counted him over the forty -banknotes." -Monte Cristo nodded his head in token of assent. "But that -is not all," continued Danglars "he has opened an account -with my house for his son." -"May I ask how much he allows the young man?" -"Five thousand francs per month." -"Sixty thousand francs per year. I thought I was right in -believing that Cavalcanti to be a stingy fellow. How can a -young man live upon , francs a month?" -"But you understand that if the young man should want a few -thousands more" -"Do not advance it the father will never repay it. You do -not know these ultramontane millionaires they are regular -misers. And by whom were they recommended to you?" -"Oh, by the house of Fenzi, one of the best in Florence." -"I do not mean to say you will lose, but, nevertheless, mind -you hold to the terms of the agreement." -"Would you not trust the Cavalcanti?" -"I? oh, I would advance six millions on his signature. I was -only speaking in reference to the secondrate fortunes we -were mentioning just now." -"And with all this, how unassuming he is I should never -have taken him for anything more than a mere major." -"And you would have flattered him, for certainly, as you -say, he has no manner. The first time I saw him he appeared -to me like an old lieutenant who had grown mouldy under his -epaulets. But all the Italians are the same they are like -old Jews when they are not glittering in Oriental splendor." -"The young man is better," said Danglars. -"Yes a little nervous, perhaps, but, upon the whole, he -appeared tolerable. I was uneasy about him." -"Why?" -"Because you met him at my house, just after his -introduction into the world, as they told me. He has been -travelling with a very severe tutor, and had never been to -Paris before." -"Ah, I believe noblemen marry amongst themselves, do they -not?" asked Danglars carelessly "they like to unite their -fortunes." -"It is usual, certainly but Cavalcanti is an original who -does nothing like other people. I cannot help thinking that -he has brought his son to France to choose a wife." -"Do you think so?" -"I am sure of it." -"And you have heard his fortune mentioned?" -"Nothing else was talked of only some said he was worth -millions, and others that he did not possess a farthing." -"And what is your opinion?" -"I ought not to influence you, because it is only my own -personal impression." -"Well, and it is that" -"My opinion is, that all these old podestas, these ancient -condottieri, for the Cavalcanti have commanded armies and -governed provinces, my opinion, I say, is, that they have -buried their millions in corners, the secret of which they -have transmitted only to their eldest sons, who have done -the same from generation to generation and the proof of -this is seen in their yellow and dry appearance, like the -florins of the republic, which, from being constantly gazed -upon, have become reflected in them." -"Certainly," said Danglars, "and this is further supported -by the fact of their not possessing an inch of land." -"Very little, at least I know of none which Cavalcanti -possesses, excepting his palace in Lucca." -"Ah, he has a palace?" said Danglars, laughing "come, that -is something." -"Yes and more than that, he lets it to the Minister of -Finance while he lives in a simple house. Oh, as I told you -before, I think the old fellow is very close." -"Come, you do not flatter him." -"I scarcely know him I think I have seen him three times in -my life all I know relating to him is through Busoni and -himself. He was telling me this morning that, tired of -letting his property lie dormant in Italy, which is a dead -nation, he wished to find a method, either in France or -England, of multiplying his millions, but remember, that -though I place great confidence in Busoni, I am not -responsible for this." -"Never mind accept my thanks for the client you have sent -me. It is a fine name to inscribe on my ledgers, and my -cashier was quite proud of it when I explained to him who -the Cavalcanti were. By the way, this is merely a simple -question, when this sort of people marry their sons, do they -give them any fortune?" -"Oh, that depends upon circumstances. I know an Italian -prince, rich as a gold mine, one of the noblest families in -Tuscany, who, when his sons married according to his wish, -gave them millions and when they married against his -consent, merely allowed them thirty crowns a month. Should -Andrea marry according to his father's views, he will, -perhaps, give him one, two, or three millions. For example, -supposing it were the daughter of a banker, he might take an -interest in the house of the fatherinlaw of his son then -again, if he disliked his choice, the major takes the key, -doublelocks his coffer, and Master Andrea would be obliged -to live like the sons of a Parisian family, by shuffling -cards or rattling the dice." -"Ah, that boy will find out some Bavarian or Peruvian -princess he will want a crown and an immense fortune." -"No these grand lords on the other side of the Alps -frequently marry into plain families like Jupiter, they -like to cross the race. But do you wish to marry Andrea, my -dear M. Danglars, that you are asking so many questions?" -"Ma foi," said Danglars, "it would not be a bad speculation, -I fancy, and you know I am a speculator." -"You are not thinking of Mademoiselle Danglars, I hope you -would not like poor Andrea to have his throat cut by -Albert?" -"Albert," repeated Danglars, shrugging his shoulders "ah, -well he would care very little about it, I think." -"But he is betrothed to your daughter, I believe?" -"Well, M. de Morcerf and I have talked about this marriage, -but Madame de Morcerf and Albert" -"You do not mean to say that it would not be a good match?" -"Indeed, I imagine that Mademoiselle Danglars is as good as -M. de Morcerf." -"Mademoiselle Danglars' fortune will be great, no doubt, -especially if the telegraph should not make any more -mistakes." -"Oh, I do not mean her fortune only but tell me" -"What?" -"Why did you not invite M. and Madame de Morcerf to your -dinner?" -"I did so, but he excused himself on account of Madame de -Morcerf being obliged to go to Dieppe for the benefit of sea -air." -"Yes, yes," said Danglars, laughing, "it would do her a -great deal of good." -"Why so?" -"Because it is the air she always breathed in her youth." -Monte Cristo took no notice of this illnatured remark. -"But still, if Albert be not so rich as Mademoiselle -Danglars," said the count, "you must allow that he has a -fine name?" -"So he has but I like mine as well." -"Certainly your name is popular, and does honor to the -title they have adorned it with but you are too intelligent -not to know that according to a prejudice, too firmly rooted -to be exterminated, a nobility which dates back five -centuries is worth more than one that can only reckon twenty -years." -"And for this very reason," said Danglars with a smile, -which he tried to make sardonic, "I prefer M. Andrea -Cavalcanti to M. Albert de Morcerf." -"Still, I should not think the Morcerfs would yield to the -Cavalcanti?" -"The Morcerfs Stay, my dear count," said Danglars "you -are a man of the world, are you not?" -"I think so." -"And you understand heraldry?" -"A little." -"Well, look at my coatofarms, it is worth more than -Morcerf's." -"Why so?" -"Because, though I am not a baron by birth, my real name is, -at least, Danglars." -"Well, what then?" -"While his name is not Morcerf." -"How? not Morcerf?" -"Not the least in the world." -"Go on." -"I have been made a baron, so that I actually am one he -made himself a count, so that he is not one at all." -"Impossible" -"Listen my dear count M. de Morcerf has been my friend, or -rather my acquaintance, during the last thirty years. You -know I have made the most of my arms, though I never forgot -my origin." -"A proof of great humility or great pride," said Monte -Cristo. -"Well, when I was a clerk, Morcerf was a mere fisherman." -"And then he was called" -"Fernand." -"Only Fernand?" -"Fernand Mondego." -"You are sure?" -"Pardieu, I have bought enough fish of him to know his -name." -"Then, why did you think of giving your daughter to him?" -"Because Fernand and Danglars, being both parvenus, both -having become noble, both rich, are about equal in worth, -excepting that there have been certain things mentioned of -him that were never said of me." -"What?" -"Oh, nothing" -"Ah, yes what you tell me recalls to mind something about -the name of Fernand Mondego. I have heard that name in -Greece." -"In conjunction with the affairs of Ali Pasha?" -"Exactly so." -"This is the mystery," said Danglars. "I acknowledge I would -have given anything to find it out." -"It would be very easy if you much wished it?" -"How so?" -"Probably you have some correspondent in Greece?" -"I should think so." -"At Yanina?" -"Everywhere." -"Well, write to your correspondent in Yanina, and ask him -what part was played by a Frenchman named Fernand Mondego in -the catastrophe of Ali Tepelini." -"You are right," exclaimed Danglars, rising quickly, "I will -write today." -"Do so." -"I will." -"And if you should hear of anything very scandalous" -"I will communicate it to you." -"You will oblige me." Danglars rushed out of the room, and -made but one leap into his coupe. -Chapter -At the Office of the King's Attorney. -Let us leave the banker driving his horses at their fullest -speed, and follow Madame Danglars in her morning excursion. -We have said that at halfpast twelve o'clock Madame -Danglars had ordered her horses, and had left home in the -carriage. She directed her course towards the Faubourg Saint -Germain, went down the Rue Mazarine, and stopped at the -Passage du PontNeuf. She descended, and went through the -passage. She was very plainly dressed, as would be the case -with a woman of taste walking in the morning. At the Rue -Guenegaud she called a cab, and directed the driver to go to -the Rue de Harlay. As soon as she was seated in the vehicle, -she drew from her pocket a very thick black veil, which she -tied on to her straw bonnet. She then replaced the bonnet, -and saw with pleasure, in a little pocketmirror, that her -white complexion and brilliant eyes were alone visible. The -cab crossed the PontNeuf and entered the Rue de Harlay by -the Place Dauphine the driver was paid as the door opened, -and stepping lightly up the stairs Madame Danglars soon -reached the Salle des PasPerdus. -There was a great deal going on that morning, and many -businesslike persons at the Palais businesslike persons -pay very little attention to women, and Madame Danglars -crossed the hall without exciting any more attention than -any other woman calling upon her lawyer. There was a great -press of people in M. de Villefort's antechamber, but -Madame Danglars had no occasion even to pronounce her name. -The instant she appeared the doorkeeper rose, came to her, -and asked her whether she was not the person with whom the -procureur had made an appointment and on her affirmative -answer being given, he conducted her by a private passage to -M. de Villefort's office. The magistrate was seated in an -armchair, writing, with his back towards the door he did -not move as he heard it open, and the doorkeeper pronounce -the words, "Walk in, madame," and then reclose it but no -sooner had the man's footsteps ceased, than he started up, -drew the bolts, closed the curtains, and examined every -corner of the room. Then, when he had assured himself that -he could neither be seen nor heard, and was consequently -relieved of doubts, he said, "Thanks, madame, thanks -for your punctuality" and he offered a chair to Madame -Danglars, which she accepted, for her heart beat so -violently that she felt nearly suffocated. -"It is a long time, madame," said the procureur, describing -a halfcircle with his chair, so as to place himself exactly -opposite to Madame Danglars, "it is a long time since I -had the pleasure of speaking alone with you, and I regret -that we have only now met to enter upon a painful -conversation." -"Nevertheless, sir, you see I have answered your first -appeal, although certainly the conversation must be much -more painful for me than for you." Villefort smiled -bitterly. -"It is true, then," he said, rather uttering his thoughts -aloud than addressing his companion, "it is true, then, -that all our actions leave their traces some sad, others -bright on our paths it is true that every step in our -lives is like the course of an insect on the sands it -leaves its track Alas, to many the path is traced by -tears." -"Sir," said Madame Danglars, "you can feel for my emotion, -can you not? Spare me, then, I beseech you. When I look at -this room, whence so many guilty creatures have departed, -trembling and ashamed, when I look at that chair before -which I now sit trembling and ashamed, oh, it requires -all my reason to convince me that I am not a very guilty -woman and you a menacing judge." Villefort dropped his head -and sighed. "And I," he said, "I feel that my place is not -in the judge's seat, but on the prisoner's stool." -"You?" said Madame Danglars. -"Yes, I." -"I think, sir, you exaggerate your situation," said Madame -Danglars, whose beautiful eyes sparkled for a moment. "The -paths of which you were just speaking have been traced by -all young men of ardent imaginations. Besides the pleasure, -there is always remorse from the indulgence of our passions, -and, after all, what have you men to fear from all this? the -world excuses, and notoriety ennobles you." -"Madame," replied Villefort, "you know that I am no -hypocrite, or, at least, that I never deceive without a -reason. If my brow be severe, it is because many misfortunes -have clouded it if my heart be petrified, it is that it -might sustain the blows it has received. I was not so in my -youth, I was not so on the night of the betrothal, when we -were all seated around a table in the Rue du Cours at -Marseilles. But since then everything has changed in and -about me I am accustomed to brave difficulties, and, in the -conflict to crush those who, by their own free will, or by -chance, voluntarily or involuntarily, interfere with me in -my career. It is generally the case that what we most -ardently desire is as ardently withheld from us by those who -wish to obtain it, or from whom we attempt to snatch it. -Thus, the greater number of a man's errors come before him -disguised under the specious form of necessity then, after -error has been committed in a moment of excitement, of -delirium, or of fear, we see that we might have avoided and -escaped it. The means we might have used, which we in our -blindness could not see, then seem simple and easy, and we -say, "Why did I not do this, instead of that?' Women, on the -contrary, are rarely tormented with remorse for the -decision does not come from you, your misfortunes are -generally imposed upon you, and your faults the results of -others' crimes." -"In any case, sir, you will allow," replied Madame Danglars, -"that, even if the fault were alone mine, I last night -received a severe punishment for it." -"Poor thing," said Villefort, pressing her hand, "it was too -severe for your strength, for you were twice overwhelmed, -and yet" -"Well?" -"Well, I must tell you. Collect all your courage, for you -have not yet heard all." -"Ah," exclaimed Madame Danglars, alarmed, "what is there -more to hear?" -"You only look back to the past, and it is, indeed, bad -enough. Well, picture to yourself a future more gloomy still -certainly frightful, perhaps sanguinary." The baroness -knew how calm Villefort naturally was, and his present -excitement frightened her so much that she opened her mouth -to scream, but the sound died in her throat. "How has this -terrible past been recalled?" cried Villefort "how is it -that it has escaped from the depths of the tomb and the -recesses of our hearts, where it was buried, to visit us -now, like a phantom, whitening our cheeks and flushing our -brows with shame?" -"Alas," said Hermine, "doubtless it is chance." -"Chance?" replied Villefort "No, no, madame, there is no -such thing as chance." -"Oh, yes has not a fatal chance revealed all this? Was it -not by chance the Count of Monte Cristo bought that house? -Was it not by chance he caused the earth to be dug up? Is it -not by chance that the unfortunate child was disinterred -under the trees? that poor innocent offspring of mine, -which I never even kissed, but for whom I wept many, many -tears. Ah, my heart clung to the count when he mentioned the -dear spoil found beneath the flowers." -"Well, no, madame, this is the terrible news I have to -tell you," said Villefort in a hollow voice "no, nothing -was found beneath the flowers there was no child -disinterred no. You must not weep, no, you must not -groan, you must tremble" -"What can you mean?" asked Madame Danglars, shuddering. -"I mean that M. de Monte Cristo, digging underneath these -trees, found neither skeleton nor chest, because neither of -them was there" -"Neither of them there?" repeated Madame Danglars, her -staring, wideopen eyes expressing her alarm. -"Neither of them there" she again said, as though striving -to impress herself with the meaning of the words which -escaped her. -"No," said Villefort, burying his face in his hands, "no, a -hundred times no" -"Then you did not bury the poor child there, sir? Why did -you deceive me? Where did you place it? tell me where?" -"There But listen to me listen and you will pity me -who has for twenty years alone borne the heavy burden of -grief I am about to reveal, without casting the least -portion upon you." -"Oh, you frighten me But speak I will listen." -"You recollect that sad night, when you were halfexpiring -on that bed in the red damask room, while I, scarcely less -agitated than you, awaited your delivery. The child was -born, was given to me motionless, breathless, voiceless -we thought it dead." Madame Danglars moved rapidly, as -though she would spring from her chair, but Villefort -stopped, and clasped his hands as if to implore her -attention. "We thought it dead," he repeated "I placed it -in the chest, which was to take the place of a coffin I -descended to the garden, I dug a hole, and then flung it -down in haste. Scarcely had I covered it with earth, when -the arm of the Corsican was stretched towards me I saw a -shadow rise, and, at the same time, a flash of light. I felt -pain I wished to cry out, but an icy shiver ran through my -veins and stifled my voice I fell lifeless, and fancied -myself killed. Never shall I forget your sublime courage, -when, having returned to consciousness, I dragged myself to -the foot of the stairs, and you, almost dying yourself, came -to meet me. We were obliged to keep silent upon the dreadful -catastrophe. You had the fortitude to regain the house, -assisted by your nurse. A duel was the pretext for my wound. -Though we scarcely expected it, our secret remained in our -own keeping alone. I was taken to Versailles for three -months I struggled with death at last, as I seemed to cling -to life, I was ordered to the South. Four men carried me -from Paris to Chalons, walking six leagues a day Madame de -Villefort followed the litter in her carriage. At Chalons I -was put upon the Saone, thence I passed on to the Rhone, -whence I descended, merely with the current, to Arles at -Arles I was again placed on my litter, and continued my -journey to Marseilles. My recovery lasted six months. I -never heard you mentioned, and I did not dare inquire for -you. When I returned to Paris, I learned that you, the widow -of M. de Nargonne, had married M. Danglars. -"What was the subject of my thoughts from the time -consciousness returned to me? Always the same always the -child's corpse, coming every night in my dreams, rising from -the earth, and hovering over the grave with menacing look -and gesture. I inquired immediately on my return to Paris -the house had not been inhabited since we left it, but it -had just been let for nine years. I found the tenant. I -pretended that I disliked the idea that a house belonging to -my wife's father and mother should pass into the hands of -strangers. I offered to pay them for cancelling the lease -they demanded , francs. I would have given , I -would have given ,. I had the money with me I made the -tenant sign the deed of resilition, and when I had obtained -what I so much wanted, I galloped to Auteuil. -"No one had entered the house since I had left it. It was -five o'clock in the afternoon I ascended into the red room, -and waited for night. There all the thoughts which had -disturbed me during my year of constant agony came back with -double force. The Corsican, who had declared the vendetta -against me, who had followed me from Nimes to Paris, who had -hid himself in the garden, who had struck me, had seen me -dig the grave, had seen me inter the child, he might -become acquainted with your person, nay, he might even -then have known it. Would he not one day make you pay for -keeping this terrible secret? Would it not be a sweet -revenge for him when he found that I had not died from the -blow of his dagger? It was therefore necessary, before -everything else, and at all risks, that I should cause all -traces of the past to disappear that I should destroy -every material vestige too much reality would always remain -in my recollection. It was for this I had annulled the lease -it was for this I had come it was for this I was -waiting. Night arrived I allowed it to become quite dark. I -was without a light in that room when the wind shook all -the doors, behind which I continually expected to see some -spy concealed, I trembled. I seemed everywhere to hear your -moans behind me in the bed, and I dared not turn around. My -heart beat so violently that I feared my wound would open. -At length, one by one, all the noises in the neighborhood -ceased. I understood that I had nothing to fear, that I -should neither be seen nor heard, so I decided upon -descending to the garden. -"Listen, Hermine I consider myself as brave as most men, -but when I drew from my breast the little key of the -staircase, which I had found in my coat that little key -we both used to cherish so much, which you wished to have -fastened to a golden ring when I opened the door, and saw -the pale moon shedding a long stream of white light on the -spiral staircase like a spectre, I leaned against the wall, -and nearly shrieked. I seemed to be going mad. At last I -mastered my agitation. I descended the staircase step by -step the only thing I could not conquer was a strange -trembling in my knees. I grasped the railings if I had -relaxed my hold for a moment, I should have fallen. I -reached the lower door. Outside this door a spade was placed -against the wall I took it, and advanced towards the -thicket. I had provided myself with a dark lantern. In the -middle of the lawn I stopped to light it, then I continued -my path. -"It was the end of November, all the verdure of the garden -had disappeared, the trees were nothing more than skeletons -with their long bony arms, and the dead leaves sounded on -the gravel under my feet. My terror overcame me to such a -degree as I approached the thicket, that I took a pistol -from my pocket and armed myself. I fancied continually that -I saw the figure of the Corsican between the branches. I -examined the thicket with my dark lantern it was empty. I -looked carefully around I was indeed alone, no noise -disturbed the silence but the owl, whose piercing cry seemed -to be calling up the phantoms of the night. I tied my -lantern to a forked branch I had noticed a year before at -the precise spot where I stopped to dig the hole. -"The grass had grown very thickly there during the summer, -and when autumn arrived no one had been there to mow it. -Still one place where the grass was thin attracted my -attention it evidently was there I had turned up the -ground. I went to work. The hour, then, for which I had been -waiting during the last year had at length arrived. How I -worked, how I hoped, how I struck every piece of turf, -thinking to find some resistance to my spade But no, I -found nothing, though I had made a hole twice as large as -the first. I thought I had been deceived had mistaken the -spot. I turned around, I looked at the trees, I tried to -recall the details which had struck me at the time. A cold, -sharp wind whistled through the leafless branches, and yet -the drops fell from my forehead. I recollected that I was -stabbed just as I was trampling the ground to fill up the -hole while doing so I had leaned against a laburnum behind -me was an artificial rockery, intended to serve as a -restingplace for persons walking in the garden in falling, -my hand, relaxing its hold of the laburnum, felt the -coldness of the stone. On my right I saw the tree, behind me -the rock. I stood in the same attitude, and threw myself -down. I rose, and again began digging and enlarging the -hole still I found nothing, nothing the chest was no -longer there" -"The chest no longer there?" murmured Madame Danglars, -choking with fear. -"Think not I contented myself with this one effort," -continued Villefort. "No I searched the whole thicket. I -thought the assassin, having discovered the chest, and -supposing it to be a treasure, had intended carrying it off, -but, perceiving his error, had dug another hole, and -deposited it there but I could find nothing. Then the idea -struck me that he had not taken these precautions, and had -simply thrown it in a corner. In the last case I must wait -for daylight to renew my search. I remained the room and -waited." -"Oh, heavens" -When daylight dawned I went down again. My first visit was -to the thicket. I hoped to find some traces which had -escaped me in the darkness. I had turned up the earth over a -surface of more than twenty feet square, and a depth of two -feet. A laborer would not have done in a day what occupied -me an hour. But I could find nothing absolutely nothing. -Then I renewed the search. Supposing it had been thrown -aside, it would probably be on the path which led to the -little gate but this examination was as useless as the -first, and with a bursting heart I returned to the thicket, -which now contained no hope for me." -"Oh," cried Madame Danglars, "it was enough to drive you -mad" -"I hoped for a moment that it might," said Villefort "but -that happiness was denied me. However, recovering my -strength and my ideas, "Why,' said I, "should that man have -carried away the corpse?'" -"But you said," replied Madame Danglars, "he would require -it as a proof." -"Ah, no, madame, that could not be. Dead bodies are not kept -a year they are shown to a magistrate, and the evidence is -taken. Now, nothing of the kind has happened." -"What then?" asked Hermine, trembling violently. -"Something more terrible, more fatal, more alarming for us -the child was, perhaps, alive, and the assassin may have -saved it" -Madame Danglars uttered a piercing cry, and, seizing -Villefort's hands, exclaimed, "My child was alive?" said -she "you buried my child alive? You were not certain my -child was dead, and you buried it? Ah" -Madame Danglars had risen, and stood before the procureur, -whose hands she wrung in her feeble grasp. "I know not I -merely suppose so, as I might suppose anything else," -replied Villefort with a look so fixed, it indicated that -his powerful mind was on the verge of despair and madness. -"Ah, my child, my poor child" cried the baroness, falling -on her chair, and stifling her sobs in her handkerchief. -Villefort, becoming somewhat reassured, perceived that to -avert the maternal storm gathering over his head, he must -inspire Madame Danglars with the terror he felt. "You -understand, then, that if it were so," said he, rising in -his turn, and approaching the baroness, to speak to her in a -lower tone, "we are lost. This child lives, and some one -knows it lives some one is in possession of our secret -and since Monte Cristo speaks before us of a child -disinterred, when that child could not be found, it is he -who is in possession of our secret." -"Just God, avenging God" murmured Madame Danglars. -Villefort's only answer was a stifled groan. -"But the child the child, sir?" repeated the agitated -mother. -"How I have searched for him," replied Villefort, wringing -his hands "how I have called him in my long sleepless -nights how I have longed for royal wealth to purchase a -million of secrets from a million of men, and to find mine -among them At last, one day, when for the hundredth time I -took up my spade, I asked myself again and again what the -Corsican could have done with the child. A child encumbers a -fugitive perhaps, on perceiving it was still alive, he had -thrown it into the river." -"Impossible" cried Madame Danglars "a man may murder -another out of revenge, but he would not deliberately drown -a child." -"Perhaps," continued Villefort, "he had put it in the -foundling hospital." -"Oh, yes, yes," cried the baroness "my child is there" -"I ran to the hospital, and learned that the same night -the night of the th of September a child had been -brought there, wrapped in part of a fine linen napkin, -purposely torn in half. This portion of the napkin was -marked with half a baron's crown, and the letter H." -"Truly, truly," said Madame Danglars, "all my linen is -marked thus Monsieur de Nargonne was a baronet, and my name -is Hermine. Thank God, my child was not then dead" -"No, it was not dead." -"And you can tell me so without fearing to make me die of -joy? Where is the child?" Villefort shrugged his shoulders. -"Do I know?" said he "and do you believe that if I knew I -would relate to you all its trials and all its adventures as -would a dramatist or a novel writer? Alas, no, I know not. A -woman, about six months after, came to claim it with the -other half of the napkin. This woman gave all the requisite -particulars, and it was intrusted to her." -"But you should have inquired for the woman you should have -traced her." -"And what do you think I did? I feigned a criminal process, -and employed all the most acute bloodhounds and skilful -agents in search of her. They traced her to Chalons, and -there they lost her." -"They lost her?" -"Yes, forever." Madame Danglars had listened to this recital -with a sigh, a tear, or a shriek for every detail. "And this -is all?" said she "and you stopped there?" -"Oh, no," said Villefort "I never ceased to search and to -inquire. However, the last two or three years I had allowed -myself some respite. But now I will begin with more -perseverance and fury than ever, since fear urges me, not my -conscience." -"But," replied Madame Danglars, "the Count of Monte Cristo -can know nothing, or he would not seek our society as he -does." -"Oh, the wickedness of man is very great," said Villefort, -"since it surpasses the goodness of God. Did you observe -that man's eyes while he was speaking to us?" -"No." -"But have you ever watched him carefully?" -"Doubtless he is capricious, but that is all one thing -alone struck me, of all the exquisite things he placed -before us, he touched nothing. I might have suspected he was -poisoning us." -"And you see you would have been deceived." -"Yes, doubtless." -"But believe me, that man has other projects. For that -reason I wished to see you, to speak to you, to warn you -against every one, but especially against him. Tell me," -cried Villefort, fixing his eyes more steadfastly on her -than he had ever done before, "did you ever reveal to any -one our connection?" -"Never, to any one." -"You understand me," replied Villefort, affectionately -"when I say any one, pardon my urgency, to any one -living I mean?" -"Yes, yes, I understand very well," ejaculated the baroness -"never, I swear to you." -"Were you ever in the habit of writing in the evening what -had transpired in the morning? Do you keep a journal?" -"No, my life has been passed in frivolity I wish to forget -it myself." -"Do you talk in your sleep?" -"I sleep soundly, like a child do you not remember?" The -color mounted to the baroness's face, and Villefort turned -awfully pale. -"It is true," said he, in so low a tone that he could hardly -be heard. -"Well?" said the baroness. -"Well, I understand what I now have to do," replied -Villefort. "In less than one week from this time I will -ascertain who this M. de Monte Cristo is, whence he comes, -where he goes, and why he speaks in our presence of children -that have been disinterred in a garden." Villefort -pronounced these words with an accent which would have made -the count shudder had he heard him. Then he pressed the hand -the baroness reluctantly gave him, and led her respectfully -back to the door. Madame Danglars returned in another cab to -the passage, on the other side of which she found her -carriage, and her coachman sleeping peacefully on his box -while waiting for her. -Chapter -A Summer Ball. -The same day during the interview between Madame Danglars -and the procureur, a travellingcarriage entered the Rue du -Helder, passed through the gateway of No. , and stopped in -the yard. In a moment the door was opened, and Madame de -Morcerf alighted, leaning on her son's arm. Albert soon left -her, ordered his horses, and having arranged his toilet, -drove to the Champs Elysees, to the house of Monte Cristo. -The count received him with his habitual smile. It was a -strange thing that no one ever appeared to advance a step in -that man's favor. Those who would, as it were, force a -passage to his heart, found an impassable barrier. Morcerf, -who ran towards him with open arms, was chilled as he drew -near, in spite of the friendly smile, and simply held out -his hand. Monte Cristo shook it coldly, according to his -invariable practice. "Here I am, dear count." -"Welcome home again." -"I arrived an hour since." -"From Dieppe?" -"No, from Treport." -"Indeed?" -"And I have come at once to see you." -"That is extremely kind of you," said Monte Cristo with a -tone of perfect indifference. -"And what is the news?" -"You should not ask a stranger, a foreigner, for news." -"I know it, but in asking for news, I mean, have you done -anything for me?" -"Had you commissioned me?" said Monte Cristo, feigning -uneasiness. -"Come, come," said Albert, "do not assume so much -indifference. It is said, sympathy travels rapidly, and when -at Treport, I felt the electric shock you have either been -working for me or thinking of me." -"Possibly," said Monte Cristo, "I have indeed thought of -you, but the magnetic wire I was guiding acted, indeed, -without my knowledge." -"Indeed? Pray tell me how it happened?" -"Willingly. M. Danglars dined with me." -"I know it to avoid meeting him, my mother and I left -town." -"But he met here M. Andrea Cavalcanti." -"Your Italian prince?" -"Not so fast M. Andrea only calls himself count." -"Calls himself, do you say?" -"Yes, calls himself." -"Is he not a count?" -"What can I know of him? He calls himself so. I, of course, -give him the same title, and every one else does likewise." -"What a strange man you are What next? You say M. Danglars -dined here?" -"Yes, with Count Cavalcanti, the marquis his father, Madame -Danglars, M. and Madame de Villefort, charming people, -M. Debray, Maximilian Morrel, and M. de ChateauRenaud." -"Did they speak of me?" -"Not a word." -"So much the worse." -"Why so? I thought you wished them to forget you?" -"If they did not speak of me, I am sure they thought about -me, and I am in despair." -"How will that affect you, since Mademoiselle Danglars was -not among the number here who thought of you? Truly, she -might have thought of you at home." -"I have no fear of that or, if she did, it was only in the -same way in which I think of her." -"Touching sympathy So you hate each other?" said the count. -"Listen," said Morcerf "if Mademoiselle Danglars were -disposed to take pity on my supposed martyrdom on her -account, and would dispense with all matrimonial formalities -between our two families, I am ready to agree to the -arrangement. In a word, Mademoiselle Danglars would make a -charming mistress but a wife diable" -"And this," said Monte Cristo, "is your opinion of your -intended spouse?" -"Yes it is rather unkind, I acknowledge, but it is true. -But as this dream cannot be realized, since Mademoiselle -Danglars must become my lawful wife, live perpetually with -me, sing to me, compose verses and music within ten paces of -me, and that for my whole life, it frightens me. One may -forsake a mistress, but a wife, good heavens There she -must always be and to marry Mademoiselle Danglars would be -awful." -"You are difficult to please, viscount." -"Yes, for I often wish for what is impossible." -"What is that?" -"To find such a wife as my father found." Monte Cristo -turned pale, and looked at Albert, while playing with some -magnificent pistols. -"Your father was fortunate, then?" said he. -"You know my opinion of my mother, count look at her, -still beautiful, witty, more charming than ever. For any -other son to have stayed with his mother for four days at -Treport, it would have been a condescension or a martyrdom, -while I return, more contented, more peaceful shall I say -more poetic than if I had taken Queen Mab or Titania as -my companion." -"That is an overwhelming demonstration, and you would make -every one vow to live a single life." -"Such are my reasons for not liking to marry Mademoiselle -Danglars. Have you ever noticed how much a thing is -heightened in value when we obtain possession of it? The -diamond which glittered in the window at Marle's or Fossin's -shines with more splendor when it is our own but if we are -compelled to acknowledge the superiority of another, and -still must retain the one that is inferior, do you not know -what we have to endure?" -"Worldling," murmured the count. -"Thus I shall rejoice when Mademoiselle Eugenie perceives I -am but a pitiful atom, with scarcely as many hundred -thousand francs as she has millions." Monte Cristo smiled. -"One plan occurred to me," continued Albert "Franz likes -all that is eccentric I tried to make him fall in love with -Mademoiselle Danglars but in spite of four letters, written -in the most alluring style, he invariably answered "My -eccentricity may be great, but it will not make me break my -promise.'" -"That is what I call devoted friendship, to recommend to -another one whom you would not marry yourself." Albert -smiled. "Apropos," continued he, "Franz is coming soon, -but it will not interest you you dislike him, I think?" -"I?" said Monte Cristo "my dear Viscount, how have you -discovered that I did not like M. Franz I like every one." -"And you include me in the expression every one many -thanks" -"Let us not mistake," said Monte Cristo "I love every one -as God commands us to love our neighbor, as Christians but -I thoroughly hate but a few. Let us return to M. Franz -d'Epinay. Did you say he was coming?" -"Yes summoned by M. de Villefort, who is apparently as -anxious to get Mademoiselle Valentine married as M. Danglars -is to see Mademoiselle Eugenie settled. It must be a very -irksome office to be the father of a grownup daughter it -seems to make one feverish, and to raise one's pulse to -ninety beats a minute until the deed is done." -"But M. d'Epinay, unlike you, bears his misfortune -patiently." -"Still more, he talks seriously about the matter, puts on a -white tie, and speaks of his family. He entertains a very -high opinion of M. and Madame de Villefort." -"Which they deserve, do they not?" -"I believe they do. M. de Villefort has always passed for a -severe but a just man." -"There is, then, one," said Monte Cristo, "whom you do not -condemn like poor Danglars?" -"Because I am not compelled to marry his daughter perhaps," -replied Albert, laughing. -"Indeed, my dear sir," said Monte Cristo, "you are -revoltingly foppish." -"I foppish? how do you mean?" -"Yes pray take a cigar, and cease to defend yourself, and -to struggle to escape marrying Mademoiselle Danglars. Let -things take their course perhaps you may not have to -retract." -"Bah," said Albert, staring. -"Doubtless, my dear viscount, you will not be taken by -force and seriously, do you wish to break off your -engagement?" -"I would give a hundred thousand francs to be able to do -so." -"Then make yourself quite easy. M. Danglars would give -double that sum to attain the same end." -"Am I, indeed, so happy?" said Albert, who still could not -prevent an almost imperceptible cloud passing across his -brow. "But, my dear count, has M. Danglars any reason?" -"Ah, there is your proud and selfish nature. You would -expose the selflove of another with a hatchet, but you -shrink if your own is attacked with a needle." -"But yet M. Danglars appeared" -"Delighted with you, was he not? Well, he is a man of bad -taste, and is still more enchanted with another. I know not -whom look and judge for yourself." -"Thank you, I understand. But my mother no, not my -mother I mistake my father intends giving a ball." -"A ball at this season?" -"Summer balls are fashionable." -"If they were not, the countess has only to wish it, and -they would become so." -"You are right You know they are select affairs those who -remain in Paris in July must be true Parisians. Will you -take charge of our invitation to Messieurs Cavalcanti?" -"When will it take place?" -"On Saturday." -"M. Cavalcanti's father will be gone." -"But the son will be here will you invite young M. -Cavalcanti?" -"I do not know him, viscount." -"You do not know him?" -"No, I never saw him until a few days since, and am not -responsible for him." -"But you receive him at your house?" -"That is another thing he was recommended to me by a good -abbe, who may be deceived. Give him a direct invitation, but -do not ask me to present him. If he were afterwards to marry -Mademoiselle Danglars, you would accuse me of intrigue, and -would be challenging me, besides, I may not be there -myself." -"Where?" -"At your ball." -"Why should you not be there?" -"Because you have not yet invited me." -"But I come expressly for that purpose." -"You are very kind, but I may be prevented." -"If I tell you one thing, you will be so amiable as to set -aside all impediments." -"Tell me what it is." -"My mother begs you to come." -"The Comtesse de Morcerf?" said Monte Cristo, starting. -"Ah, count," said Albert, "I assure you Madame de Morcerf -speaks freely to me, and if you have not felt those -sympathetic fibres of which I spoke just now thrill within -you, you must be entirely devoid of them, for during the -last four days we have spoken of no one else." -"You have talked of me?" -"Yes, that is the penalty of being a living puzzle" -"Then I am also a puzzle to your mother? I should have -thought her too reasonable to be led by imagination." -"A problem, my dear count, for every one for my mother as -well as others much studied, but not solved, you still -remain an enigma, do not fear. My mother is only astonished -that you remain so long unsolved. I believe, while the -Countess G takes you for Lord Ruthven, my mother -imagines you to be Cagliostro or the Count SaintGermain. -The first opportunity you have, confirm her in her opinion -it will be easy for you, as you have the philosophy of the -one and the wit of the other." -"I thank you for the warning," said the count "I shall -endeavor to be prepared for all suppositions." -"You will, then, come on Saturday?" -"Yes, since Madame de Morcerf invites me." -"You are very kind." -"Will M. Danglars be there?" -"He has already been invited by my father. We shall try to -persuade the great d'Aguesseau, M. de Villefort, to come, -but have not much hope of seeing him." -""Never despair of anything,' says the proverb." - Magistrate and orator of great eloquence chancellor of -France under Louis XV. -"Do you dance, count?" -"I dance?" -"Yes, you it would not be astonishing." -"That is very well before one is over forty. No, I do not -dance, but I like to see others do so. Does Madame de -Morcerf dance?" -"Never you can talk to her, she so delights in your -conversation." -"Indeed?" -"Yes, truly and I assure you. You are the only man of whom -I have heard her speak with interest." Albert rose and took -his hat the count conducted him to the door. "I have one -thing to reproach myself with," said he, stopping Albert on -the steps. "What is it?" -"I have spoken to you indiscreetly about Danglars." -"On the contrary, speak to me always in the same strain -about him." -"I am glad to be reassured on that point. Apropos, when do -you aspect M. d'Epinay?" -"Five or six days hence at the latest." -"And when is he to be married?" -"Immediately on the arrival of M. and Madame de -SaintMeran." -"Bring him to see me. Although you say I do not like him, I -assure you I shall be happy to see him." -"I will obey your orders, my lord." -"Goodby." -"Until Saturday, when I may expect you, may I not?" -"Yes, I promised you." The Count watched Albert, waving his -hand to him. When he had mounted his phaeton, Monte Cristo -turned, and seeing Bertuccio, "What news?" said he. "She -went to the Palais," replied the steward. -"Did she stay long there?" -"An hour and a half." -"Did she return home?" -"Directly." -"Well, my dear Bertuccio," said the count, "I now advise you -to go in quest of the little estate I spoke to you of in -Normandy." Bertuccio bowed, and as his wishes were in -perfect harmony with the order he had received, he started -the same evening. -Chapter -The Inquiry. -M. de Villefort kept the promise he had made to Madame -Danglars, to endeavor to find out how the Count of Monte -Cristo had discovered the history of the house at Auteuil. -He wrote the same day for the required information to M. de -Boville, who, from having been an inspector of prisons, was -promoted to a high office in the police and the latter -begged for two days time to ascertain exactly who would be -most likely to give him full particulars. At the end of the -second day M. de Villefort received the following note -"The person called the Count of Monte Cristo is an intimate -acquaintance of Lord Wilmore, a rich foreigner, who is -sometimes seen in Paris and who is there at this moment he -is also known to the Abbe Busoni, a Sicilian priest, of high -repute in the East, where he has done much good." -M. de Villefort replied by ordering the strictest inquiries -to be made respecting these two persons his orders were -executed, and the following evening he received these -details -"The abbe, who was in Paris only for a month, inhabited a -small twostoried house behind SaintSulpice there were two -rooms on each floor and he was the only tenant. The two -lower rooms consisted of a diningroom, with a table, -chairs, and sideboard of walnut, and a wainscoted -parlor, without ornaments, carpet, or timepiece. It was -evident that the abbe limited himself to objects of strict -necessity. He preferred to use the sittingroom upstairs, -which was more library than parlor, and was furnished with -theological books and parchments, in which he delighted to -bury himself for months at a time, according to his valet de -chambre. His valet looked at the visitors through a sort of -wicket and if their faces were unknown to him or displeased -him, he replied that the abbe was not in Paris, an answer -which satisfied most persons, because the abbe was known to -be a great traveller. Besides, whether at home or not, -whether in Paris or Cairo, the abbe always left something to -give away, which the valet distributed through this wicket -in his master's name. The other room near the library was a -bedroom. A bed without curtains, four armchairs, and a -couch, covered with yellow Utrecht velvet, composed, with a -prieDieu, all its furniture. Lord Wilmore resided in Rue -FontaineSaintGeorge. He was one of those English tourists -who consume a large fortune in travelling. He hired the -apartment in which he lived furnished, passed only a few -hours in the day there, and rarely slept there. One of his -peculiarities was never to speak a word of French, which he -however wrote with great facility." -The day after this important information had been given to -the king's attorney, a man alighted from a carriage at the -corner of the Rue Ferou, and rapping at an olivegreen door, -asked if the Abbe Busoni were within. "No, he went out early -this morning," replied the valet. -"I might not always be content with that answer," replied -the visitor, "for I come from one to whom everyone must be -at home. But have the kindness to give the Abbe Busoni" -"I told you he was not at home," repeated the valet. "Then -on his return give him that card and this sealed paper. Will -he be at home at eight o'clock this evening?" -"Doubtless, unless he is at work, which is the same as if he -were out." -"I will come again at that time," replied the visitor, who -then retired. -At the appointed hour the same man returned in the same -carriage, which, instead of stopping this time at the end of -the Rue Ferou, drove up to the green door. He knocked, and -it opened immediately to admit him. From the signs of -respect the valet paid him, he saw that his note had -produced a good effect. "Is the abbe at home?" asked he. -"Yes he is at work in his library, but he expects you, -sir," replied the valet. The stranger ascended a rough -staircase, and before a table, illumined by a lamp whose -light was concentrated by a large shade while the rest of -the apartment was in partial darkness, he perceived the abbe -in a monk's dress, with a cowl on his head such as was used -by learned men of the Middle Ages. "Have I the honor of -addressing the Abbe Busoni?" asked the visitor. -"Yes, sir," replied the abbe "and you are the person whom -M. de Boville, formerly an inspector of prisons, sends to me -from the prefect of police?" -"Exactly, sir." -"One of the agents appointed to secure the safety of Paris?" -"Yes, sir" replied the stranger with a slight hesitation, -and blushing. -The abbe replaced the large spectacles, which covered not -only his eyes but his temples, and sitting down motioned to -his visitor to do the same. "I am at your service, sir," -said the abbe, with a marked Italian accent. -"The mission with which I am charged, sir," replied the -visitor, speaking with hesitation, "is a confidential one on -the part of him who fulfils it, and him by whom he is -employed." The abbe bowed. "Your probity," replied the -stranger, "is so well known to the prefect that he wishes as -a magistrate to ascertain from you some particulars -connected with the public safety, to ascertain which I am -deputed to see you. It is hoped that no ties of friendship -or humane consideration will induce you to conceal the -truth." -"Provided, sir, the particulars you wish for do not -interfere with my scruples or my conscience. I am a priest, -sir, and the secrets of confession, for instance, must -remain between me and God, and not between me and human -justice." -"Do not alarm yourself, monsieur, we will duly respect your -conscience." -At this moment the abbe pressed down his side of the shade -and so raised it on the other, throwing a bright light on -the stranger's face, while his own remained obscured. -"Excuse me, abbe," said the envoy of the prefect of the -police, "but the light tries my eyes very much." The abbe -lowered the shade. "Now, sir, I am listening go on." -"I will come at once to the point. Do you know the Count of -Monte Cristo?" -"You mean Monsieur Zaccone, I presume?" -"Zaccone? is not his name Monte Cristo?" -"Monte Cristo is the name of an estate, or, rather, of a -rock, and not a family name." -"Well, be it so let us not dispute about words and since -M. de Monte Cristo and M. Zaccone are the same" -"Absolutely the same." -"Let us speak of M. Zaccone." -"Agreed." -"I asked you if you knew him?" -"Extremely well." -"Who is he?" -"The son of a rich shipbuilder in Malta." -"I know that is the report but, as you are aware, the -police does not content itself with vague reports." -"However," replied the abbe, with an affable smile, "when -that report is in accordance with the truth, everybody must -believe it, the police as well as all the rest." -"Are you sure of what you assert?" -"What do you mean by that question?" -"Understand, sir, I do not in the least suspect your -veracity I ask if you are certain of it?" -"I knew his father, M. Zaccone." -"Ah, indeed?" -"And when a child I often played with the son in the -timberyards." -"But whence does he derive the title of count?" -"You are aware that may be bought." -"In Italy?" -"Everywhere." -"And his immense riches, whence does he procure them?" -"They may not be so very great." -"How much do you suppose he possesses?" -"From one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand livres -per annum." -"That is reasonable," said the visitor "I have heard he had -three or four millions." -"Two hundred thousand per annum would make four millions of -capital." -"But I was told he had four millions per annum?" -"That is not probable." -"Do you know this Island of Monte Cristo?" -"Certainly, every one who has come from Palermo, Naples, or -Rome to France by sea must know it, since he has passed -close to it and must have seen it." -"I am told it is a delightful place?" -"It is a rock." -"And why has the count bought a rock?" -"For the sake of being a count. In Italy one must have -territorial possessions to be a count." -"You have, doubtless, heard the adventures of M. Zaccone's -youth?" -"The father's?" -"No, the son's." -"I know nothing certain at that period of his life, I lost -sight of my young comrade." -"Was he in the wars?" -"I think he entered the service." -"In what branch?" -"In the navy." -"Are you not his confessor?" -"No, sir I believe he is a Lutheran." -"A Lutheran?" -"I say, I believe such is the case, I do not affirm it -besides, liberty of conscience is established in France." -"Doubtless, and we are not now inquiring into his creed, but -his actions in the name of the prefect of police, I ask you -what you know of him. -"He passes for a very charitable man. Our holy father, the -pope, has made him a knight of Jesus Christ for the services -he rendered to the Christians in the East he has five or -six rings as testimonials from Eastern monarchs of his -services." -"Does he wear them?" -"No, but he is proud of them he is better pleased with -rewards given to the benefactors of man than to his -destroyers." -"He is a Quaker then?" -"Exactly, he is a Quaker, with the exception of the peculiar -dress." -"Has he any friends?" -"Yes, every one who knows him is his friend." -"But has he any enemies?" -"One only." -"What is his name?" -"Lord Wilmore." -"Where is he?" -"He is in Paris just now." -"Can he give me any particulars?" -"Important ones he was in India with Zaccone." -"Do you know his abode?" -"It's somewhere in the Chaussee d'Antin but I know neither -the street nor the number." -"Are you at variance with the Englishman?" -"I love Zaccone, and he hates him we are consequently not -friends." -"Do you think the Count of Monte Cristo had ever been in -France before he made this visit to Paris?" -"To that question I can answer positively no, sir, he had -not, because he applied to me six months ago for the -particulars he required, and as I did not know when I might -again come to Paris, I recommended M. Cavalcanti to him." -"Andrea?" -"No, Bartolomeo, his father." -"Now, sir, I have but one question more to ask, and I charge -you, in the name of honor, of humanity, and of religion, to -answer me candidly." -"What is it, sir?" -"Do you know with what design M. de Monte Cristo purchased a -house at Auteuil?" -"Certainly, for he told me." -"What is it, sir?" -"To make a lunatic asylum of it, similar to that founded by -the Count of Pisani at Palermo. Do you know about that -institution?" -"I have heard of it." -"It is a magnificent charity." Having said this, the abbe -bowed to imply he wished to pursue his studies. The visitor -either understood the abbe's meaning, or had no more -questions to ask he arose, and the abbe accompanied him to -the door. "You are a great almsgiver," said the visitor, -"and although you are said to be rich, I will venture to -offer you something for your poor people will you accept my -offering?" -"I thank you, sir I am only jealous in one thing, and that -is that the relief I give should be entirely from my own -resources." -"However" -"My resolution, sir, is unchangeable, but you have only to -search for yourself and you will find, alas, but too many -objects upon whom to exercise your benevolence." The abbe -once more bowed as he opened the door, the stranger bowed -and took his leave, and the carriage conveyed him straight -to the house of M. de Villefort. An hour afterwards the -carriage was again ordered, and this time it went to the Rue -FontaineSaintGeorge, and stopped at No. , where Lord -Wilmore lived. The stranger had written to Lord Wilmore, -requesting an interview, which the latter had fixed for ten -o'clock. As the envoy of the prefect of police arrived ten -minutes before ten, he was told that Lord Wilmore, who was -precision and punctuality personified, was not yet come in, -but that he would be sure to return as the clock struck. -The visitor was introduced into the drawingroom, which was -like all other furnished drawingrooms. A mantlepiece, with -two modern Sevres vases, a timepiece representing Cupid with -his bent bow, a mirror with an engraving on each side one -representing Homer carrying his guide, the other, Belisarius -begging a grayish paper red and black tapestry such -was the appearance of Lord Wilmore's drawingroom. It was -illuminated by lamps with groundglass shades which gave -only a feeble light, as if out of consideration for the -envoy's weak sight. After ten minutes' expectation the clock -struck ten at the fifth stroke the door opened and Lord -Wilmore appeared. He was rather above the middle height, -with thin reddish whiskers, light complexion and light hair, -turning rather gray. He was dressed with all the English -peculiarity, namely, in a blue coat, with gilt buttons and -high collar, in the fashion of , a white kerseymere -waistcoat, and nankeen pantaloons, three inches too short, -but which were prevented by straps from slipping up to the -knee. His first remark on entering was, "You know, sir, I -do not speak French?" -"I know you do not like to converse in our language," -replied the envoy. "But you may use it," replied Lord -Wilmore "I understand it." -"And I," replied the visitor, changing his idiom, "know -enough of English to keep up the conversation. Do not put -yourself to the slightest inconvenience." -"Aw?" said Lord Wilmore, with that tone which is only known -to natives of Great Britain. -The envoy presented his letter of introduction, which the -latter read with English coolness, and having finished, -"I understand," said he, "perfectly." -Then began the questions, which were similar to those which -had been addressed to the Abbe Busoni. But as Lord Wilmore, -in the character of the count's enemy, was less restrained -in his answers, they were more numerous he described the -youth of Monte Cristo, who he said, at ten years of age, -entered the service of one of the petty sovereigns of India -who make war on the English. It was there Wilmore had first -met him and fought against him and in that war Zaccone had -been taken prisoner, sent to England, and consigned to the -hulks, whence he had escaped by swimming. Then began his -travels, his duels, his caprices then the insurrection in -Greece broke out, and he had served in the Grecian ranks. -While in that service he had discovered a silver mine in the -mountains of Thessaly, but he had been careful to conceal it -from every one. After the battle of Navarino, when the Greek -government was consolidated, he asked of King Otho a mining -grant for that district, which was given him. Hence that -immense fortune, which, in Lord Wilmore's opinion, possibly -amounted to one or two millions per annum, a precarious -fortune, which might be momentarily lost by the failure of -the mine. -"But," asked the visitor, "do you know why he came to -France?" -"He is speculating in railways," said Lord Wilmore, "and as -he is an expert chemist and physicist, he has invented a new -system of telegraphy, which he is seeking to bring to -perfection." -"How much does he spend yearly?" asked the prefect. -"Not more than five or six hundred thousand francs," said -Lord Wilmore "he is a miser." Hatred evidently inspired the -Englishman, who, knowing no other reproach to bring on the -count, accused him of avarice. "Do you know his house at -Auteuil?" -"Certainly." -"What do you know respecting it?" -"Do you wish to know why he bought it?" -"Yes." -"The count is a speculator, who will certainly ruin himself -in experiments. He supposes there is in the neighborhood of -the house he has bought a mineral spring equal to those at -Bagneres, Luchon, and Cauterets. He is going to turn his -house into a Badhaus, as the Germans term it. He has already -dug up all the garden two or three times to find the famous -spring, and, being unsuccessful, he will soon purchase all -the contiguous houses. Now, as I dislike him, and hope his -railway, his electric telegraph, or his search for baths, -will ruin him, I am watching for his discomfiture, which -must soon take place." -"What was the cause of your quarrel?" -"When he was in England he seduced the wife of one of my -friends." -"Why do you not seek revenge?" -"I have already fought three duels with him," said the -Englishman, "the first with the pistol, the second with the -sword, and the third with the sabre." -"And what was the result of those duels?" -"The first time, he broke my arm the second, he wounded me -in the breast and the third time, made this large wound." -The Englishman turned down his shirtcollar, and showed a -scar, whose redness proved it to be a recent one. "So that, -you see, there is a deadly feud between us." -"But," said the envoy, "you do not go about it in the right -way to kill him, if I understand you correctly." -"Aw?" said the Englishman, "I practice shooting every day, -and every other day Grisier comes to my house." -This was all the visitor wished to ascertain, or, rather, -all the Englishman appeared to know. The agent arose, and -having bowed to Lord Wilmore, who returned his salutation -with the stiff politeness of the English, he retired. Lord -Wilmore, having heard the door close after him, returned to -his bedroom, where with one hand he pulled off his light -hair, his red whiskers, his false jaw, and his wound, to -resume the black hair, dark complexion, and pearly teeth of -the Count of Monte Cristo. It was M. de Villefort, and not -the prefect, who returned to the house of M. de Villefort. -The procureur felt more at ease, although he had learned -nothing really satisfactory, and, for the first time since -the dinnerparty at Auteuil, he slept soundly. -Chapter -The Ball. -It was in the warmest days of July, when in due course of -time the Saturday arrived upon which the ball was to take -place at M. de Morcerf's. It was ten o'clock at night the -branches of the great trees in the garden of the count's -house stood out boldly against the azure canopy of heaven, -which was studded with golden stars, but where the last -fleeting clouds of a vanishing storm yet lingered. From the -apartments on the groundfloor might be heard the sound of -music, with the whirl of the waltz and galop, while -brilliant streams of light shone through the openings of the -Venetian blinds. At this moment the garden was only occupied -by about ten servants, who had just received orders from -their mistress to prepare the supper, the serenity of the -weather continuing to increase. Until now, it had been -undecided whether the supper should take place in the -diningroom, or under a long tent erected on the lawn, but -the beautiful blue sky, studded with stars, had settled the -question in favor of the lawn. The gardens were illuminated -with colored lanterns, according to the Italian custom, and, -as is usual in countries where the luxuries of the table -the rarest of all luxuries in their complete form are -well understood, the suppertable was loaded with waxlights -and flowers. -At the time the Countess of Morcerf returned to the rooms, -after giving her orders, many guests were arriving, more -attracted by the charming hospitality of the countess than -by the distinguished position of the count for, owing to -the good taste of Mercedes, one was sure of finding some -devices at her entertainment worthy of describing, or even -copying in case of need. Madame Danglars, in whom the events -we have related had caused deep anxiety, had hesitated about -going to Madame de Morcerf's, when during the morning her -carriage happened to meet that of Villefort. The latter made -a sign, and when the carriages had drawn close together, -said, "You are going to Madame de Morcerf's, are you -not?" -"No," replied Madame Danglars, "I am too ill." -"You are wrong," replied Villefort, significantly "it is -important that you should be seen there." -"Do you think so?" asked the baroness. -"I do." -"In that case I will go." And the two carriages passed on -towards their different destinations. Madame Danglars -therefore came, not only beautiful in person, but radiant -with splendor she entered by one door at the time when -Mercedes appeared at the door. The countess took Albert to -meet Madame Danglars. He approached, paid her some well -merited compliments on her toilet, and offered his arm to -conduct her to a seat. Albert looked around him. "You are -looking for my daughter?" said the baroness, smiling. -"I confess it," replied Albert. "Could you have been so -cruel as not to bring her?" -"Calm yourself. She has met Mademoiselle de Villefort, and -has taken her arm see, they are following us, both in white -dresses, one with a bouquet of camellias, the other with one -of myosotis. But tell me" -"Well, what do you wish to know?" -"Will not the Count of Monte Cristo be here tonight?" -"Seventeen" replied Albert. -"What do you mean?" -"I only mean that the count seems the rage," replied the -viscount, smiling, "and that you are the seventeenth person -that has asked me the same question. The count is in -fashion I congratulate him upon it." -"And have you replied to every one as you have to me?" -"Ah, to be sure, I have not answered you be satisfied, we -shall have this "lion' we are among the privileged ones." -"Were you at the opera yesterday?" -"No." -"He was there." -"Ah, indeed? And did the eccentric person commit any new -originality?" -"Can he be seen without doing so? Elssler was dancing in the -"Diable Boiteux' the Greek princess was in ecstasies. After -the cachucha he placed a magnificent ring on the stem of a -bouquet, and threw it to the charming danseuse, who, in the -third act, to do honor to the gift, reappeared with it on -her finger. And the Greek princess, will she be here?" -"No, you will be deprived of that pleasure her position in -the count's establishment is not sufficiently understood." -"Wait leave me here, and go and speak to Madame de -Villefort, who is trying to attract your attention." -Albert bowed to Madame Danglars, and advanced towards Madame -de Villefort, whose lips opened as he approached. "I wager -anything," said Albert, interrupting her, "that I know what -you were about to say." -"Well, what is it?" -"If I guess rightly, will you confess it?" -"Yes." -"On your honor?" -"On my honor." -"You were going to ask me if the Count of Monte Cristo had -arrived, or was expected." -"Not at all. It is not of him that I am now thinking. I was -going to ask you if you had received any news of Monsieur -Franz." -"Yes, yesterday." -"What did he tell you?" -"That he was leaving at the same time as his letter." -"Well, now then, the count?" -"The count will come, of that you may be satisfied." -"You know that he has another name besides Monte Cristo?" -"No, I did not know it." -"Monte Cristo is the name of an island, and he has a family name." -"I never heard it." -"Well, then, I am better informed than you his name is Zaccone." -"It is possible." -"He is a Maltese." -"That is also possible. -"The son of a shipowner." -"Really, you should relate all this aloud, you would have -the greatest success." -"He served in India, discovered a mine in Thessaly, and -comes to Paris to establish a mineral watercure at -Auteuil." -"Well, I'm sure," said Morcerf, "this is indeed news Am I -allowed to repeat it?" -"Yes, but cautiously, tell one thing at a time, and do not -say I told you." -"Why so?" -"Because it is a secret just discovered." -"By whom?" -"The police." -"Then the news originated" -"At the prefect's last night. Paris, you can understand, is -astonished at the sight of such unusual splendor, and the -police have made inquiries." -"Well, well Nothing more is wanting than to arrest the -count as a vagabond, on the pretext of his being too rich." -"Indeed, that doubtless would have happened if his -credentials had not been so favorable." -"Poor count And is he aware of the danger he has been in?" -"I think not." -"Then it will be but charitable to inform him. When he -arrives, I will not fail to do so." -Just then, a handsome young man, with bright eyes, black -hair, and glossy mustache, respectfully bowed to Madame de -Villefort. Albert extended his hand. "Madame," said Albert, -"allow me to present to you M. Maximilian Morrel, captain of -Spahis, one of our best, and, above all, of our bravest -officers." -"I have already had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman -at Auteuil, at the house of the Count of Monte Cristo," -replied Madame de Villefort, turning away with marked -coldness of manner. This answer, and especially the tone in -which it was uttered, chilled the heart of poor Morrel. But -a recompense was in store for him turning around, he saw -near the door a beautiful fair face, whose large blue eyes -were, without any marked expression, fixed upon him, while -the bouquet of myosotis was gently raised to her lips. -The salutation was so well understood that Morrel, with the -same expression in his eyes, placed his handkerchief to his -mouth and these two living statues, whose hearts beat so -violently under their marble aspect, separated from each -other by the whole length of the room, forgot themselves for -a moment, or rather forgot the world in their mutual -contemplation. They might have remained much longer lost in -one another, without any one noticing their abstraction. The -Count of Monte Cristo had just entered. -We have already said that there was something in the count -which attracted universal attention wherever he appeared. It -was not the coat, unexceptional in its cut, though simple -and unornamented it was not the plain white waistcoat it -was not the trousers, that displayed the foot so perfectly -formed it was none of these things that attracted the -attention, it was his pale complexion, his waving black -hair, his calm and serene expression, his dark and -melancholy eye, his mouth, chiselled with such marvellous -delicacy, which so easily expressed such high disdain, -these were what fixed the attention of all upon him. Many -men might have been handsomer, but certainly there could be -none whose appearance was more significant, if the -expression may be used. Everything about the count seemed to -have its meaning, for the constant habit of thought which he -had acquired had given an ease and vigor to the expression -of his face, and even to the most trifling gesture, scarcely -to be understood. Yet the Parisian world is so strange, that -even all this might not have won attention had there not -been connected with it a mysterious story gilded by an -immense fortune. -Meanwhile he advanced through the assemblage of guests under -a battery of curious glances towards Madame de Morcerf, who, -standing before a mantlepiece ornamented with flowers, had -seen his entrance in a lookingglass placed opposite the -door, and was prepared to receive him. She turned towards -him with a serene smile just at the moment he was bowing to -her. No doubt she fancied the count would speak to her, -while on his side the count thought she was about to address -him but both remained silent, and after a mere bow, Monte -Cristo directed his steps to Albert, who received him -cordially. "Have you seen my mother?" asked Albert. -"I have just had the pleasure," replied the count "but I -have not seen your father." -"See, he is down there, talking politics with that little -group of great geniuses." -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo "and so those gentlemen down -there are men of great talent. I should not have guessed it. -And for what kind of talent are they celebrated? You know -there are different sorts." -"That tall, harshlooking man is very learned, he -discovered, in the neighborhood of Rome, a kind of lizard -with a vertebra more than lizards usually have, and he -immediately laid his discovery before the Institute. The -thing was discussed for a long time, but finally decided in -his favor. I can assure you the vertebra made a great noise -in the learned world, and the gentleman, who was only a -knight of the Legion of Honor, was made an officer." -"Come," said Monte Cristo, "this cross seems to me to be -wisely awarded. I suppose, had he found another additional -vertebra, they would have made him a commander." -"Very likely," said Albert. -"And who can that person be who has taken it into his head -to wrap himself up in a blue coat embroidered with green?" -"Oh, that coat is not his own idea it is the Republic's, -which deputed David to devise a uniform for the -Academicians." - Louis David, a famous French painter. -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo "so this gentleman is an -Academician?" -"Within the last week he has been made one of the learned -assembly." -"And what is his especial talent?" -"His talent? I believe he thrusts pins through the heads of -rabbits, he makes fowls eat madder, and punches the spinal -marrow out of dogs with whalebone." -"And he is made a member of the Academy of Sciences for -this?" -"No of the French Academy." -"But what has the French Academy to do with all this?" -"I was going to tell you. It seems" -"That his experiments have very considerably advanced the -cause of science, doubtless?" -"No that his style of writing is very good." -"This must be very flattering to the feelings of the rabbits -into whose heads he has thrust pins, to the fowls whose -bones he has dyed red, and to the dogs whose spinal marrow -he has punched out?" -Albert laughed. -"And the other one?" demanded the count. -"That one?" -"Yes, the third." -"The one in the dark blue coat?" -"Yes." -"He is a colleague of the count, and one of the most active -opponents to the idea of providing the Chamber of Peers with -a uniform. He was very successful upon that question. He -stood badly with the Liberal papers, but his noble -opposition to the wishes of the court is now getting him -into favor with the journalists. They talk of making him an -ambassador." -"And what are his claims to the peerage?" -"He has composed two or three comic operas, written four or -five articles in the Siecle, and voted five or six years on -the ministerial side." -"Bravo, Viscount," said Monte Cristo, smiling "you are a -delightful cicerone. And now you will do me a favor, will -you not?" -"What is it?" -"Do not introduce me to any of these gentlemen and should -they wish it, you will warn me." Just then the count felt -his arm pressed. He turned round it was Danglars. -"Ah, is it you, baron?" said he. -"Why do you call me baron?" said Danglars "you know that I -care nothing for my title. I am not like you, viscount you -like your title, do you not?" -"Certainly," replied Albert, "seeing that without my title I -should be nothing while you, sacrificing the baron, would -still remain the millionaire." -"Which seems to me the finest title under the royalty of -July," replied Danglars. -"Unfortunately," said Monte Cristo, "one's title to a -millionaire does not last for life, like that of baron, peer -of France, or Academician for example, the millionaires -Franck Poulmann, of Frankfort, who have just become -bankrupts." -"Indeed?" said Danglars, becoming pale. -"Yes I received the news this evening by a courier. I had -about a million in their hands, but, warned in time, I -withdrew it a month ago." -"Ah, mon Dieu," exclaimed Danglars, "they have drawn on me -for , francs" -"Well, you can throw out the draft their signature is worth -five per cent." -"Yes, but it is too late," said Danglars, "I have honored -their bills." -"Then," said Monte Cristo, "here are , francs gone -after" -"Hush, do not mention these things," said Danglars then, -approaching Monte Cristo, he added, "especially before young -M. Cavalcanti" after which he smiled, and turned towards -the young man in question. Albert had left the count to -speak to his mother, Danglars to converse with young -Cavalcanti Monte Cristo was for an instant alone. Meanwhile -the heat became excessive. The footmen were hastening -through the rooms with waiters loaded with ices. Monte -Cristo wiped the perspiration from his forehead, but drew -back when the waiter was presented to him he took no -refreshment. Madame de Morcerf did not lose sight of Monte -Cristo she saw that he took nothing, and even noticed his -gesture of refusal. -"Albert," she asked, "did you notice that?" -"What, mother?" -"That the count has never been willing to partake of food -under the roof of M. de Morcerf." -"Yes but then he breakfasted with me indeed, he made his -first appearance in the world on that occasion." -"But your house is not M. de Morcerf's," murmured Mercedes -"and since he has been here I have watched him." -"Well?" -"Well, he has taken nothing yet." -"The count is very temperate." Mercedes smiled sadly. -"Approach him," said she, "and when the next waiter passes, -insist upon his taking something." -"But why, mother?" -"Just to please me, Albert," said Mercedes. Albert kissed -his mother's hand, and drew near the count. Another salver -passed, loaded like the preceding ones she saw Albert -attempt to persuade the count, but he obstinately refused. -Albert rejoined his mother she was very pale. -"Well," said she, "you see he refuses?" -"Yes but why need this annoy you?" -"You know, Albert, women are singular creatures. I should -like to have seen the count take something in my house, if -only an ice. Perhaps he cannot reconcile himself to the -French style of living, and might prefer something else." -"Oh, no I have seen him eat of everything in Italy no -doubt he does not feel inclined this evening." -"And besides," said the countess, "accustomed as he is to -burning climates, possibly he does not feel the heat as we -do." -"I do not think that, for he has complained of feeling -almost suffocated, and asked why the Venetian blinds were -not opened as well as the windows." -"In a word," said Mercedes, "it was a way of assuring me -that his abstinence was intended." And she left the room. A -minute afterwards the blinds were thrown open, and through -the jessamine and clematis that overhung the window one -could see the garden ornamented with lanterns, and the -supper laid under the tent. Dancers, players, talkers, all -uttered an exclamation of joy every one inhaled with -delight the breeze that floated in. At the same time -Mercedes reappeared, paler than before, but with that -imperturbable expression of countenance which she sometimes -wore. She went straight to the group of which her husband -formed the centre. "Do not detain those gentlemen here, -count," she said "they would prefer, I should think, to -breathe in the garden rather than suffocate here, since they -are not playing." -"Ah," said a gallant old general, who, in , had sung -"Partant pour la Syrie," "we will not go alone to the -garden." -"Then," said Mercedes, "I will lead the way." Turning -towards Monte Cristo, she added, "count, will you oblige me -with your arm?" The count almost staggered at these simple -words then he fixed his eyes on Mercedes. It was only a -momentary glance, but it seemed to the countess to have -lasted for a century, so much was expressed in that one -look. He offered his arm to the countess she took it, or -rather just touched it with her little hand, and they -together descended the steps, lined with rhododendrons and -camellias. Behind them, by another outlet, a group of about -twenty persons rushed into the garden with loud exclamations -of delight. -Chapter -Bread and Salt. -Madame de Morcerf entered an archway of trees with her -companion. It led through a grove of lindens to a -conservatory. -"It was too warm in the room, was it not, count?" she asked. -"Yes, madame and it was an excellent idea of yours to open -the doors and the blinds." As he ceased speaking, the count -felt the hand of Mercedes tremble. "But you," he said, "with -that light dress, and without anything to cover you but that -gauze scarf, perhaps you feel cold?" -"Do you know where I am leading you?" said the countess, -without replying to the question. -"No, madame," replied Monte Cristo "but you see I make no -resistance." -"We are going to the greenhouse that you see at the other -end of the grove." -The count looked at Mercedes as if to interrogate her, but -she continued to walk on in silence, and he refrained from -speaking. They reached the building, ornamented with -magnificent fruits, which ripen at the beginning of July in -the artificial temperature which takes the place of the sun, -so frequently absent in our climate. The countess left the -arm of Monte Cristo, and gathered a bunch of Muscatel -grapes. "See, count," she said, with a smile so sad in its -expression that one could almost detect the tears on her -eyelids "see, our French grapes are not to be compared, I -know, with yours of Sicily and Cyprus, but you will make -allowance for our northern sun." The count bowed, but -stepped back. "Do you refuse?" said Mercedes, in a tremulous -voice. "Pray excuse me, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "but -I never eat Muscatel grapes." -Mercedes let them fall, and sighed. A magnificent peach was -hanging against an adjoining wall, ripened by the same -artificial heat. Mercedes drew near, and plucked the fruit. -"Take this peach, then," she said. The count again refused. -"What, again?" she exclaimed, in so plaintive an accent that -it seemed to stifle a sob "really, you pain me." -A long silence followed the peach, like the grapes, fell to -the ground. "Count," added Mercedes with a supplicating -glance, "there is a beautiful Arabian custom, which makes -eternal friends of those who have together eaten bread and -salt under the same roof." -"I know it, madame," replied the count "but we are in -France, and not in Arabia, and in France eternal friendships -are as rare as the custom of dividing bread and salt with -one another." -"But," said the countess, breathlessly, with her eyes fixed -on Monte Cristo, whose arm she convulsively pressed with -both hands, "we are friends, are we not?" -The count became pale as death, the blood rushed to his -heart, and then again rising, dyed his cheeks with crimson -his eyes swam like those of a man suddenly dazzled. -"Certainly, we are friends," he replied "why should we not -be?" The answer was so little like the one Mercedes desired, -that she turned away to give vent to a sigh, which sounded -more like a groan. "Thank you," she said. And they walked on -again. They went the whole length of the garden without -uttering a word. "Sir," suddenly exclaimed the countess, -after their walk had continued ten minutes in silence, "is -it true that you have seen so much, travelled so far, and -suffered so deeply?" -"I have suffered deeply, madame," answered Monte Cristo. -"But now you are happy?" -"Doubtless," replied the count, "since no one hears me -complain." -"And your present happiness, has it softened your heart?" -"My present happiness equals my past misery," said the -count. -"Are you not married?" asked the countess. "I married?" -exclaimed Monte Cristo, shuddering "who could have told you -so?" -"No one told me you were, but you have frequently been seen -at the opera with a young and lovely woman." -"She is a slave whom I bought at Constantinople, madame, the -daughter of a prince. I have adopted her as my daughter, -having no one else to love in the world." -"You live alone, then?" -"I do." -"You have no sister no son no father?" -"I have no one." -"How can you exist thus without any one to attach you to -life?" -"It is not my fault, madame. At Malta, I loved a young girl, -was on the point of marrying her, when war came and carried -me away. I thought she loved me well enough to wait for me, -and even to remain faithful to my memory. When I returned -she was married. This is the history of most men who have -passed twenty years of age. Perhaps my heart was weaker than -the hearts of most men, and I suffered more than they would -have done in my place that is all." The countess stopped -for a moment, as if gasping for breath. "Yes," she said, -"and you have still preserved this love in your heart one -can only love once and did you ever see her again?" -"Never." -"Never?" -"I never returned to the country where she lived." -"To Malta?" -"Yes Malta." -"She is, then, now at Malta?" -"I think so." -"And have you forgiven her for all she has made you suffer?" -"Her, yes." -"But only her do you then still hate those who separated -you?" -"I hate them? Not at all why should I?" The countess placed -herself before Monte Cristo, still holding in her hand a -portion of the perfumed grapes. "Take some," she said. -"Madame, I never eat Muscatel grapes," replied Monte Cristo, -as if the subject had not been mentioned before. The -countess dashed the grapes into the nearest thicket, with a -gesture of despair. "Inflexible man" she murmured. Monte -Cristo remained as unmoved as if the reproach had not been -addressed to him. Albert at this moment ran in. "Oh, -mother," he exclaimed, "such a misfortune his happened" -"What? What has happened?" asked the countess, as though -awakening from a sleep to the realities of life "did you -say a misfortune? Indeed, I should expect misfortunes." -"M. de Villefort is here." -"Well?" -"He comes to fetch his wife and daughter." -"Why so?" -"Because Madame de SaintMeran is just arrived in Paris, -bringing the news of M. de SaintMeran's death, which took -place on the first stage after he left Marseilles. Madame de -Villefort, who was in very good spirits, would neither -believe nor think of the misfortune, but Mademoiselle -Valentine, at the first words, guessed the whole truth, -notwithstanding all the precautions of her father the blow -struck her like a thunderbolt, and she fell senseless." -"And how was M. de SaintMeran related to Mademoiselle de -Villefort?" said the count. -"He was her grandfather on the mother's side. He was coming -here to hasten her marriage with Franz." -"Ah, indeed?" -"So Franz must wait. Why was not M. de SaintMeran also -grandfather to Mademoiselle Danglars?" -"Albert, Albert," said Madame de Morcerf, in a tone of mild -reproof, "what are you saying? Ah, count, he esteems you so -highly, tell him that he has spoken amiss." And she took two -or three steps forward. Monte Cristo watched her with an air -so thoughtful, and so full of affectionate admiration, that -she turned back and grasped his hand at the same time she -seized that of her son, and joined them together. -"We are friends are we not?" she asked. -"Oh, madame, I do not presume to call myself your friend, -but at all times I am your most respectful servant." The -countess left with an indescribable pang in her heart, and -before she had taken ten steps the count saw her raise her -handkerchief to her eyes. "Do not my mother and you agree?" -asked Albert, astonished. -"On the contrary," replied the count, "did you not hear her -declare that we were friends?" They reentered the -drawingroom, which Valentine and Madame de Villefort had -just quitted. It is perhaps needless to add that Morrel -departed almost at the same time. -Chapter -Madame de SaintMeran. -A gloomy scene had indeed just passed at the house of M. de -Villefort. After the ladies had departed for the ball, -whither all the entreaties of Madame de Villefort had failed -in persuading him to accompany them, the procureur had shut -himself up in his study, according to his custom, with a -heap of papers calculated to alarm any one else, but which -generally scarcely satisfied his inordinate desires. But -this time the papers were a mere matter of form. Villefort -had secluded himself, not to study, but to reflect and with -the door locked and orders given that he should not be -disturbed excepting for important business, he sat down in -his armchair and began to ponder over the events, the -remembrance of which had during the last eight days filled -his mind with so many gloomy thoughts and bitter -recollections. Then, instead of plunging into the mass of -documents piled before him, he opened the drawer of his -desk, touched a spring, and drew out a parcel of cherished -memoranda, amongst which he had carefully arranged, in -characters only known to himself, the names of all those -who, either in his political career, in money matters, at -the bar, or in his mysterious love affairs, had become his -enemies. -Their number was formidable, now that he had begun to fear, -and yet these names, powerful though they were, had often -caused him to smile with the same kind of satisfaction -experienced by a traveller who from the summit of a mountain -beholds at his feet the craggy eminences, the almost -impassable paths, and the fearful chasms, through which he -has so perilously climbed. When he had run over all these -names in his memory, again read and studied them, commenting -meanwhile upon his lists, he shook his head. -"No," he murmured, "none of my enemies would have waited so -patiently and laboriously for so long a space of time, that -they might now come and crush me with this secret. -Sometimes, as Hamlet says -"Foul deeds will rise, -Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them to men's eyes' -but, like a phosphoric light, they rise but to mislead. The -story has been told by the Corsican to some priest, who in -his turn has repeated it. M. de Monte Cristo may have heard -it, and to enlighten himself but why should he wish to -enlighten himself upon the subject?" asked Villefort, after -a moment's reflection, "what interest can this M. de Monte -Cristo or M. Zaccone, son of a shipowner of Malta, -discoverer of a mine in Thessaly, now visiting Paris for the -first time, what interest, I say, can he take in -discovering a gloomy, mysterious, and useless fact like -this? However, among all the incoherent details given to me -by the Abbe Busoni and by Lord Wilmore, by that friend and -that enemy, one thing appears certain and clear in my -opinion that in no period, in no case, in no -circumstance, could there have been any contact between him -and me." -But Villefort uttered words which even he himself did not -believe. He dreaded not so much the revelation, for he could -reply to or deny its truth he cared little for that -mene, tekel, upharsin, which appeared suddenly in letters of -blood upon the wall but what he was really anxious for -was to discover whose hand had traced them. While he was -endeavoring to calm his fears, and instead of dwelling -upon the political future that had so often been the subject -of his ambitious dreams, was imagining a future limited to -the enjoyments of home, in fear of awakening the enemy that -had so long slept, the noise of a carriage sounded in the -yard, then he heard the steps of an aged person ascending -the stairs, followed by tears and lamentations, such as -servants always give vent to when they wish to appear -interested in their master's grief. He drew back the bolt of -his door, and almost directly an old lady entered, -unannounced, carrying her shawl on her arm, and her bonnet -in her hand. The white hair was thrown back from her yellow -forehead, and her eyes, already sunken by the furrows of -age, now almost disappeared beneath the eyelids swollen with -grief. "Oh, sir," she said "oh, sir, what a misfortune I -shall die of it oh, yes, I shall certainly die of it" -And then, falling upon the chair nearest the door, she burst -into a paroxysm of sobs. The servants, standing in the -doorway, not daring to approach nearer, were looking at -Noirtier's old servant, who had heard the noise from his -master's room, and run there also, remaining behind the -others. Villefort rose, and ran towards his motherinlaw, -for it was she. -"Why, what can have happened?" he exclaimed, "what has thus -disturbed you? Is M. de SaintMeran with you?" -"M. de SaintMeran is dead," answered the old marchioness, -without preface and without expression she appeared to be -stupefied. Villefort drew back, and clasping his hands -together, exclaimed "Dead so suddenly?" -"A week ago," continued Madame de SaintMeran, "we went out -together in the carriage after dinner. M. de SaintMeran had -been unwell for some days still, the idea of seeing our -dear Valentine again inspired him with courage, and -notwithstanding his illness he would leave. At six leagues -from Marseilles, after having eaten some of the lozenges he -is accustomed to take, he fell into such a deep sleep, that -it appeared to me unnatural still I hesitated to wake him, -although I fancied that his face was flushed, and that the -veins of his temples throbbed more violently than usual. -However, as it became dark, and I could no longer see, I -fell asleep I was soon aroused by a piercing shriek, as -from a person suffering in his dreams, and he suddenly threw -his head back violently. I called the valet, I stopped the -postilion, I spoke to M. de SaintMeran, I applied my -smellingsalts but all was over, and I arrived at Aix by -the side of a corpse." Villefort stood with his mouth half -open, quite stupefied. -"Of course you sent for a doctor?" -"Immediately but, as I have told you, it was too late." -"Yes but then he could tell of what complaint the poor -marquis had died." -"Oh, yes, sir, he told me it appears to have been an -apoplectic stroke." -"And what did you do then?" -"M. de SaintMeran had always expressed a desire, in case -his death happened during his absence from Paris, that his -body might be brought to the family vault. I had him put -into a leaden coffin, and I am preceding him by a few days." -"Oh, my poor mother," said Villefort, "to have such duties -to perform at your age after such a blow" -"God has supported me through all and then, my dear -marquis, he would certainly have done everything for me that -I performed for him. It is true that since I left him, I -seem to have lost my senses. I cannot cry at my age they -say that we have no more tears, still I think that when -one is in trouble one should have the power of weeping. -Where is Valentine, sir? It is on her account I am here I -wish to see Valentine." Villefort thought it would be -terrible to reply that Valentine was at a ball so he only -said that she had gone out with her stepmother, and that -she should be fetched. "This instant, sir this instant, I -beseech you" said the old lady. Villefort placed the arm of -Madame de SaintMeran within his own, and conducted her to -his apartment. "Rest yourself, mother," he said. -The marchioness raised her head at this word, and beholding -the man who so forcibly reminded her of her deeplyregretted -child, who still lived for her in Valentine, she felt -touched at the name of mother, and bursting into tears, she -fell on her knees before an armchair, where she buried her -venerable head. Villefort left her to the care of the women, -while old Barrois ran, halfscared, to his master for -nothing frightens old people so much as when death relaxes -its vigilance over them for a moment in order to strike some -other old person. Then, while Madame de SaintMeran remained -on her knees, praying fervently, Villefort sent for a cab, -and went himself to fetch his wife and daughter from Madame -de Morcerf's. He was so pale when he appeared at the door of -the ballroom, that Valentine ran to him, saying -"Oh, father, some misfortune has happened" -"Your grandmamma has just arrived, Valentine," said M. de -Villefort. -"And grandpapa?" inquired the young girl, trembling with -apprehension. M. de Villefort only replied by offering his -arm to his daughter. It was just in time, for Valentine's -head swam, and she staggered Madame de Villefort instantly -hastened to her assistance, and aided her husband in -dragging her to the carriage, saying "What a singular -event Who could have thought it? Ah, yes, it is indeed -strange" And the wretched family departed, leaving a cloud -of sadness hanging over the rest of the evening. At the foot -of the stairs, Valentine found Barrois awaiting her. -"M. Noirtier wishes to see you tonight, he said, in an -undertone. -"Tell him I will come when I leave my dear grandmamma," she -replied, feeling, with true delicacy, that the person to -whom she could be of the most service just then was Madame -de SaintMeran. Valentine found her grandmother in bed -silent caresses, heartwrung sobs, broken sighs, burning -tears, were all that passed in this sad interview, while -Madame de Villefort, leaning on her husband's arm, -maintained all outward forms of respect, at least towards -the poor widow. She soon whispered to her husband, "I think -it would be better for me to retire, with your permission, -for the sight of me appears still to afflict your -motherinlaw." Madame de SaintMeran heard her. "Yes, yes," -she said softly to Valentine, "let her leave but do you -stay." Madame de Villefort left, and Valentine remained -alone beside the bed, for the procureur, overcome with -astonishment at the unexpected death, had followed his wife. -Meanwhile, Barrois had returned for the first time to old -Noirtier, who having heard the noise in the house, had, as -we have said, sent his old servant to inquire the cause on -his return, his quick intelligent eye interrogated the -messenger. "Alas, sir," exclaimed Barrois, "a great -misfortune has happened. Madame de SaintMeran has arrived, -and her husband is dead" -M. de SaintMeran and Noirtier had never been on strict -terms of friendship still, the death of one old man always -considerably affects another. Noirtier let his head fall -upon his chest, apparently overwhelmed and thoughtful then -he closed one eye, in token of inquiry. "Mademoiselle -Valentine?" Noirtier nodded his head. "She is at the ball, -as you know, since she came to say goodby to you in full -dress." Noirtier again closed his left eye. "Do you wish to -see her?" Noirtier again made an affirmative sign. "Well, -they have gone to fetch her, no doubt, from Madame de -Morcerf's I will await her return, and beg her to come up -here. Is that what you wish for?" -"Yes," replied the invalid. -Barrois, therefore, as we have seen, watched for Valentine, -and informed her of her grandfather's wish. Consequently, -Valentine came up to Noirtier, on leaving Madame de -SaintMeran, who in the midst of her grief had at last -yielded to fatigue and fallen into a feverish sleep. Within -reach of her hand they placed a small table upon which stood -a bottle of orangeade, her usual beverage, and a glass. -Then, as we have said, the young girl left the bedside to -see M. Noirtier. Valentine kissed the old man, who looked at -her with such tenderness that her eyes again filled with -tears, whose sources he thought must be exhausted. The old -gentleman continued to dwell upon her with the same -expression. "Yes, yes," said Valentine, "you mean that I -have yet a kind grandfather left, do you not." The old man -intimated that such was his meaning. "Ah, yes, happily I -have," replied Valentine. "Without that, what would become -of me?" -It was one o'clock in the morning. Barrois, who wished to go -to bed himself, observed that after such sad events every -one stood in need of rest. Noirtier would not say that the -only rest he needed was to see his child, but wished her -goodnight, for grief and fatigue had made her appear quite -ill. The next morning she found her grandmother in bed the -fever had not abated, on the contrary her eyes glistened and -she appeared to be suffering from violent nervous -irritability. "Oh, dear grandmamma, are you worse?" -exclaimed Valentine, perceiving all these signs of -agitation. -"No, my child, no," said Madame de SaintMeran "but I was -impatiently waiting for your arrival, that I might send for -your father." -"My father?" inquired Valentine, uneasily. -"Yes, I wish to speak to him." Valentine durst not oppose -her grandmother's wish, the cause of which she did not know, -and an instant afterwards Villefort entered. "Sir," said -Madame de SaintMeran, without using any circumlocution, and -as if fearing she had no time to lose, "you wrote to me -concerning the marriage of this child?" -"Yes, madame," replied Villefort, "it is not only projected -but arranged." -"Your intended soninlaw is named M. Franz d'Epinay?" -"Yes, madame." -"Is he not the son of General d'Epinay who was on our side, -and who was assassinated some days before the usurper -returned from the Island of Elba?" -"The same." -"Does he not dislike the idea of marrying the granddaughter -of a Jacobin?" -"Our civil dissensions are now happily extinguished, -mother," said Villefort "M. d'Epinay was quite a child when -his father died, he knows very little of M. Noirtier, and -will meet him, if not with pleasure, at least with -indifference." -"Is it a suitable match?" -"In every respect." -"And the young man?" -"Is regarded with universal esteem." -"You approve of him?" -"He is one of the most wellbred young men I know." During -the whole of this conversation Valentine had remained -silent. "Well, sir," said Madame de SaintMeran, after a few -minutes' reflection, "I must hasten the marriage, for I have -but a short time to live." -"You, madame?" "You, dear mamma?" exclaimed M. de Villefort -and Valentine at the same time. -"I know what I am saying," continued the marchioness "I -must hurry you, so that, as she has no mother, she may at -least have a grandmother to bless her marriage. I am all -that is left to her belonging to my poor Renee, whom you -have so soon forgotten, sir." -"Ah, madame," said Villefort, "you forget that I was obliged -to give a mother to my child." -"A stepmother is never a mother, sir. But this is not to the -purpose, our business concerns Valentine, let us leave -the dead in peace." -All this was said with such exceeding rapidity, that there -was something in the conversation that seemed like the -beginning of delirium. -"It shall be as you wish, madame," said Villefort "more -especially since your wishes coincide with mine, and as soon -as M. d'Epinay arrives in Paris" -"My dear grandmother," interrupted Valentine, "consider -decorum the recent death. You would not have me marry -under such sad auspices?" -"My child," exclaimed the old lady sharply, "let us hear -none of the conventional objections that deter weak minds -from preparing for the future. I also was married at the -deathbed of my mother, and certainly I have not been less -happy on that account." -"Still that idea of death, madame," said Villefort. -"Still? Always I tell you I am going to die do you -understand? Well, before dying, I wish to see my soninlaw. -I wish to tell him to make my child happy I wish to read in -his eyes whether he intends to obey me in fact, I will -know him I will" continued the old lady, with a fearful -expression, "that I may rise from the depths of my grave to -find him, if he should not fulfil his duty" -"Madame," said Villefort, "you must lay aside these exalted -ideas, which almost assume the appearance of madness. The -dead, once buried in their graves, rise no more." -"And I tell you, sir, that you are mistaken. This night I -have had a fearful sleep. It seemed as though my soul were -already hovering over my body, my eyes, which I tried to -open, closed against my will, and what will appear -impossible above all to you, sir, I saw, with my eyes shut, -in the spot where you are now standing, issuing from that -corner where there is a door leading into Madame Villefort's -dressingroom I saw, I tell you, silently enter, a white -figure." Valentine screamed. "It was the fever that -disturbed you, madame," said Villefort. -"Doubt, if you please, but I am sure of what I say. I saw a -white figure, and as if to prevent my discrediting the -testimony of only one of my senses, I heard my glass removed -the same which is there now on the table." -"Oh, dear mother, it was a dream." -"So little was it a dream, that I stretched my hand towards -the bell but when I did so, the shade disappeared my maid -then entered with a light." -"But she saw no one?" -"Phantoms are visible to those only who ought to see them. -It was the soul of my husband Well, if my husband's soul -can come to me, why should not my soul reappear to guard my -granddaughter? the tie is even more direct, it seems to me." -"Oh, madame," said Villefort, deeply affected, in spite of -himself, "do not yield to those gloomy thoughts you will -long live with us, happy, loved, and honored, and we will -make you forget" -"Never, never, never," said the marchioness. "When does M. -d'Epinay return?" -"We expect him every moment." -"It is well. As soon as he arrives inform me. We must be -expeditious. And then I also wish to see a notary, that I -may be assured that all our property returns to Valentine." -"Ah, grandmamma," murmured Valentine, pressing her lips on -the burning brow, "do you wish to kill me? Oh, how feverish -you are we must not send for a notary, but for a doctor." -"A doctor?" said she, shrugging her shoulders, "I am not -ill I am thirsty that is all." -"What are you drinking, dear grandmamma?" -"The same as usual, my dear, my glass is there on the table -give it to me, Valentine." Valentine poured the orangeade -into a glass and gave it to her grandmother with a certain -degree of dread, for it was the same glass she fancied that -had been touched by the spectre. The marchioness drained the -glass at a single draught, and then turned on her pillow, -repeating, "The notary, the notary" -M. de Villefort left the room, and Valentine seated herself -at the bedside of her grandmother. The poor child appeared -herself to require the doctor she had recommended to her -aged relative. A bright spot burned in either cheek, her -respiration was short and difficult, and her pulse beat with -feverish excitement. She was thinking of the despair of -Maximilian, when he should be informed that Madame de -SaintMeran, instead of being an ally, was unconsciously -acting as his enemy. More than once she thought of revealing -all to her grandmother, and she would not have hesitated a -moment, if Maximilian Morrel had been named Albert de -Morcerf or Raoul de ChateauRenaud but Morrel was of -plebeian extraction, and Valentine knew how the haughty -Marquise de SaintMeran despised all who were not noble. Her -secret had each time been repressed when she was about to -reveal it, by the sad conviction that it would be useless to -do so for, were it once discovered by her father and -mother, all would be lost. Two hours passed thus Madame de -SaintMeran was in a feverish sleep, and the notary had -arrived. Though his coming was announced in a very low tone, -Madame de SaintMeran arose from her pillow. "The notary" -she exclaimed, "let him come in." -The notary, who was at the door, immediately entered. "Go, -Valentine," said Madame de SaintMeran, "and leave me with -this gentleman." -"But, grandmamma" -"Leave me go" The young girl kissed her grandmother, and -left with her handkerchief to her eyes at the door she -found the valet de chambre, who told her that the doctor was -waiting in the diningroom. Valentine instantly ran down. -The doctor was a friend of the family, and at the same time -one of the cleverest men of the day, and very fond of -Valentine, whose birth he had witnessed. He had himself a -daughter about her age, but whose life was one continued -source of anxiety and fear to him from her mother having -been consumptive. -"Oh," said Valentine, "we have been waiting for you with -such impatience, dear M. d'Avrigny. But, first of all, how -are Madeleine and Antoinette?" Madeleine was the daughter of -M. d'Avrigny, and Antoinette his niece. M. d'Avrigny smiled -sadly. "Antoinette is very well," he said, "and Madeleine -tolerably so. But you sent for me, my dear child. It is not -your father or Madame de Villefort who is ill. As for you, -although we doctors cannot divest our patients of nerves, I -fancy you have no further need of me than to recommend you -not to allow your imagination to take too wide a field." -Valentine colored. M. d'Avrigny carried the science of -divination almost to a miraculous extent, for he was one of -the physicians who always work upon the body through the -mind. "No," she replied, "it is for my poor grandmother. You -know the calamity that has happened to us, do you not?" -"I know nothing." said M. d'Avrigny. -"Alas," said Valentine, restraining her tears, "my -grandfather is dead." -"M. de SaintMeran?" -"Yes." -"Suddenly?" -"From an apoplectic stroke." -"An apoplectic stroke?" repeated the doctor. -"Yes, and my poor grandmother fancies that her husband, whom -she never left, has called her, and that she must go and -join him. Oh, M. d'Avrigny, I beseech you, do something for -her" -"Where is she?" -"In her room with the notary." -"And M. Noirtier?" -"Just as he was, his mind perfectly clear, but the same -incapability of moving or speaking." -"And the same love for you eh, my dear child?" -"Yes," said Valentine, "he was very fond of me." -"Who does not love you?" Valentine smiled sadly. "What are -your grandmother's symptoms?" -"An extreme nervous excitement and a strangely agitated -sleep she fancied this morning in her sleep that her soul -was hovering above her body, which she at the same time -watched. It must have been delirium she fancies, too, that -she saw a phantom enter her chamber and even heard the noise -it made on touching her glass." -"It is singular," said the doctor "I was not aware that -Madame de SaintMeran was subject to such hallucinations." -"It is the first time I ever saw her in this condition," -said Valentine "and this morning she frightened me so that -I thought her mad and my father, who you know is a -strongminded man, himself appeared deeply impressed." -"We will go and see," said the doctor "what you tell me -seems very strange." The notary here descended, and -Valentine was informed that her grandmother was alone. "Go -upstairs," she said to the doctor. -"And you?" -"Oh, I dare not she forbade my sending for you and, as -you say, I am myself agitated, feverish and out of sorts. I -will go and take a turn in the garden to recover myself." -The doctor pressed Valentine's hand, and while he visited -her grandmother, she descended the steps. We need not say -which portion of the garden was her favorite walk. After -remaining for a short time in the parterre surrounding the -house, and gathering a rose to place in her waist or hair, -she turned into the dark avenue which led to the bench then -from the bench she went to the gate. As usual, Valentine -strolled for a short time among her flowers, but without -gathering them. The mourning in her heart forbade her -assuming this simple ornament, though she had not yet had -time to put on the outward semblance of woe. She then turned -towards the avenue. As she advanced she fancied she heard a -voice speaking her name. She stopped astonished, then the -voice reached her ear more distinctly, and she recognized it -to be that of Maximilian. -Chapter -The Promise. -It was, indeed, Maximilian Morrel, who had passed a wretched -existence since the previous day. With the instinct peculiar -to lovers he had anticipated after the return of Madame de -SaintMeran and the death of the marquis, that something -would occur at M. de Villefort's in connection with his -attachment for Valentine. His presentiments were realized, -as we shall see, and his uneasy forebodings had goaded him -pale and trembling to the gate under the chestnuttrees. -Valentine was ignorant of the cause of this sorrow and -anxiety, and as it was not his accustomed hour for visiting -her, she had gone to the spot simply by accident or perhaps -through sympathy. Morrel called her, and she ran to the -gate. "You here at this hour?" said she. "Yes, my poor -girl," replied Morrel "I come to bring and to hear bad -tidings." -"This is, indeed, a house of mourning," said Valentine -"speak, Maximilian, although the cup of sorrow seems already -full." -"Dear Valentine," said Morrel, endeavoring to conceal his -own emotion, "listen, I entreat you what I am about to say -is very serious. When are you to be married?" -"I will tell you all," said Valentine "from you I have -nothing to conceal. This morning the subject was introduced, -and my dear grandmother, on whom I depended as my only -support, not only declared herself favorable to it, but is -so anxious for it, that they only await the arrival of M. -d'Epinay, and the following day the contract will be -signed." A deep sigh escaped the young man, who gazed long -and mournfully at her he loved. "Alas," replied he, "it is -dreadful thus to hear my condemnation from your own lips. -The sentence is passed, and, in a few hours, will be -executed it must be so, and I will not endeavor to prevent -it. But, since you say nothing remains but for M. d'Epinay -to arrive that the contract may be signed, and the following -day you will be his, tomorrow you will be engaged to M. -d'Epinay, for he came this morning to Paris." Valentine -uttered a cry. -"I was at the house of Monte Cristo an hour since," said -Morrel "we were speaking, he of the sorrow your family had -experienced, and I of your grief, when a carriage rolled -into the courtyard. Never, till then, had I placed any -confidence in presentiments, but now I cannot help believing -them, Valentine. At the sound of that carriage I shuddered -soon I heard steps on the staircase, which terrified me as -much as the footsteps of the commander did Don Juan. The -door at last opened Albert de Morcerf entered first, and I -began to hope my fears were vain, when, after him, another -young man advanced, and the count exclaimed "Ah, here is -the Baron Franz d'Epinay' I summoned all my strength and -courage to my support. Perhaps I turned pale and trembled, -but certainly I smiled and five minutes after I left, -without having heard one word that had passed." -"Poor Maximilian" murmured Valentine. -"Valentine, the time has arrived when you must answer me. -And remember my life depends on your answer. What do you -intend doing?" Valentine held down her head she was -overwhelmed. -"Listen," said Morrel "it is not the first time you have -contemplated our present position, which is a serious and -urgent one I do not think it is a moment to give way to -useless sorrow leave that for those who like to suffer at -their leisure and indulge their grief in secret. There are -such in the world, and God will doubtless reward them in -heaven for their resignation on earth, but those who mean to -contend must not lose one precious moment, but must return -immediately the blow which fortune strikes. Do you intend to -struggle against our illfortune? Tell me, Valentine for it -is that I came to know." -Valentine trembled, and looked at him with amazement. The -idea of resisting her father, her grandmother, and all the -family, had never occurred to her. "What do you say, -Maximilian?" asked Valentine. "What do you mean by a -struggle? Oh, it would be a sacrilege. What? I resist my -father's order, and my dying grandmother's wish? -Impossible" Morrel started. "You are too noble not to -understand me, and you understand me so well that you -already yield, dear Maximilian. No, no I shall need all my -strength to struggle with myself and support my grief in -secret, as you say. But to grieve my father to disturb my -grandmother's last moments never" -"You are right," said Morrel, calmly. -"In what a tone you speak" cried Valentine. -"I speak as one who admires you, mademoiselle." -"Mademoiselle," cried Valentine "mademoiselle Oh, selfish -man, he sees me in despair, and pretends he cannot -understand me" -"You mistake I understand you perfectly. You will not -oppose M. Villefort, you will not displease the marchioness, -and tomorrow you will sign the contract which will bind you -to your husband." -"But, mon Dieu, tell me, how can I do otherwise?" -"Do not appeal to me, mademoiselle I shall be a bad judge -in such a case my selfishness will blind me," replied -Morrel, whose low voice and clinched hands announced his -growing desperation. -"What would you have proposed, Maximilian, had you found me -willing to accede?" -"It is not for me to say." -"You are wrong you must advise me what to do." -"Do you seriously ask my advice, Valentine?" -"Certainly, dear Maximilian, for if it is good, I will -follow it you know my devotion to you." -"Valentine," said Morrel pushing aside a loose plank, "give -me your hand in token of forgiveness of my anger my senses -are confused, and during the last hour the most extravagant -thoughts have passed through my brain. Oh, if you refuse my -advice" -"What do you advise?" said Valentine, raising her eyes to -heaven and sighing. "I am free," replied Maximilian, "and -rich enough to support you. I swear to make you my lawful -wife before my lips even shall have approached your -forehead." -"You make me tremble" said the young girl. -"Follow me," said Morrel "I will take you to my sister, who -is worthy also to be yours. We will embark for Algiers, for -England, for America, or, if your prefer it, retire to the -country and only return to Paris when our friends have -reconciled your family." Valentine shook her head. "I feared -it, Maximilian," said she "it is the counsel of a madman, -and I should be more mad than you, did I not stop you at -once with the word "Impossible, impossible'" -"You will then submit to what fate decrees for you without -even attempting to contend with it?" said Morrel -sorrowfully. "Yes, if I die" -"Well, Valentine," resumed Maximilian, "I can only say again -that you are right. Truly, it is I who am mad, and you prove -to me that passion blinds the most wellmeaning. I -appreciate your calm reasoning. It is then understood that -tomorrow you will be irrevocably promised to M. Franz -d'Epinay, not only by that theatrical formality invented to -heighten the effect of a comedy called the signature of the -contract, but your own will?" -"Again you drive me to despair, Maximilian," said Valentine, -"again you plunge the dagger into the wound What would you -do, tell me, if your sister listened to such a proposition?" -"Mademoiselle," replied Morrel with a bitter smile, "I am -selfish you have already said so and as a selfish man -I think not of what others would do in my situation, but of -what I intend doing myself. I think only that I have known -you not a whole year. From the day I first saw you, all my -hopes of happiness have been in securing your affection. One -day you acknowledged that you loved me, and since that day -my hope of future happiness has rested on obtaining you, for -to gain you would be life to me. Now, I think no more I say -only that fortune has turned against me I had thought to -gain heaven, and now I have lost it. It is an everyday -occurrence for a gambler to lose not only what he possesses -but also what he has not." Morrel pronounced these words -with perfect calmness Valentine looked at him a moment with -her large, scrutinizing eyes, endeavoring not to let Morrel -discover the grief which struggled in her heart. "But, in a -word, what are you going to do?" asked she. -"I am going to have the honor of taking my leave of you, -mademoiselle, solemnly assuring you that I wish your life -may be so calm, so happy, and so fully occupied, that there -may be no place for me even in your memory." -"Oh" murmured Valentine. -"Adieu, Valentine, adieu" said Morrel, bowing. -"Where are you going?" cried the young girl, extending her -hand through the opening, and seizing Maximilian by his -coat, for she understood from her own agitated feelings that -her lover's calmness could not be real "where are you -going?" -"I am going, that I may not bring fresh trouble into your -family and to set an example which every honest and devoted -man, situated as I am, may follow." -"Before you leave me, tell me what you are going to do, -Maximilian." The young man smiled sorrowfully. "Speak, -speak" said Valentine "I entreat you." -"Has your resolution changed, Valentine?" -"It cannot change, unhappy man you know it must not" cried -the young girl. "Then adieu, Valentine" Valentine shook the -gate with a strength of which she could not have been -supposed to be possessed, as Morrel was going away, and -passing both her hands through the opening, she clasped and -wrung them. "I must know what you mean to do" said she. -"Where are you going?" -"Oh, fear not," said Maximilian, stopping at a short -distance, "I do not intend to render another man responsible -for the rigorous fate reserved for me. Another might -threaten to seek M. Franz, to provoke him, and to fight with -him all that would be folly. What has M. Franz to do with -it? He saw me this morning for the first time, and has -already forgotten he has seen me. He did not even know I -existed when it was arranged by your two families that you -should be united. I have no enmity against M. Franz, and -promise you the punishment shall not fall on him." -"On whom, then on me?" -"On you? Valentine Oh, heaven forbid Woman is sacred the -woman one loves is holy." -"On yourself, then, unhappy man on yourself?" -"I am the only guilty person, am I not?' said Maximilian. -"Maximilian" said Valentine, "Maximilian, come back, I -entreat you" He drew near with his sweet smile, and but for -his paleness one might have thought him in his usual happy -mood. "Listen, my dear, my adored Valentine," said he in his -melodious and grave tone "those who, like us, have never -had a thought for which we need blush before the world, such -may read each other's hearts. I never was romantic, and am -no melancholy hero. I imitate neither Manfred nor Anthony -but without words, protestations, or vows, my life has -entwined itself with yours you leave me, and you are right -in doing so, I repeat it, you are right but in losing -you, I lose my life. -"The moment you leave me, Valentine, I am alone in the -world. My sister is happily married her husband is only my -brotherinlaw, that is, a man whom the ties of social life -alone attach to me no one then longer needs my useless -life. This is what I shall do I will wait until the very -moment you are married, for I will not lose the shadow of -one of those unexpected chances which are sometimes reserved -for us, since M. Franz may, after all, die before that time, -a thunderbolt may fall even on the altar as you approach it, -nothing appears impossible to one condemned to die, and -miracles appear quite reasonable when his escape from death -is concerned. I will, then, wait until the last moment, and -when my misery is certain, irremediable, hopeless, I will -write a confidential letter to my brotherinlaw, another to -the prefect of police, to acquaint them with my intention, -and at the corner of some wood, on the brink of some abyss, -on the bank of some river, I will put an end to my -existence, as certainly as I am the son of the most honest -man who ever lived in France." -Valentine trembled convulsively she loosened her hold of -the gate, her arms fell by her side, and two large tears -rolled down her cheeks. The young man stood before her, -sorrowful and resolute. "Oh, for pity's sake," said she, -"you will live, will you not?" -"No, on my honor," said Maximilian "but that will not -affect you. You have done your duty, and your conscience -will be at rest." Valentine fell on her knees, and pressed -her almost bursting heart. "Maximilian," said she, -"Maximilian, my friend, my brother on earth, my true husband -in heaven, I entreat you, do as I do, live in suffering -perhaps we may one day be united." -"Adieu, Valentine," repeated Morrel. -"My God," said Valentine, raising both her hands to heaven -with a sublime expression, "I have done my utmost to remain -a submissive daughter I have begged, entreated, implored -he has regarded neither my prayers, my entreaties, nor my -tears. It is done," cried she, willing away her tears, and -resuming her firmness, "I am resolved not to die of remorse, -but rather of shame. Live, Maximilian, and I will be yours. -Say when shall it be? Speak, command, I will obey." Morrel, -who had already gone some few steps away, again returned, -and pale with joy extended both hands towards Valentine -through the opening. "Valentine," said he, "dear Valentine, -you must not speak thus rather let me die. Why should I -obtain you by violence, if our love is mutual? Is it from -mere humanity you bid me live? I would then rather die." -"Truly," murmured Valentine, "who on this earth cares for -me, if he does not? Who has consoled me in my sorrow but he? -On whom do my hopes rest? On whom does my bleeding heart -repose? On him, on him, always on him Yes, you are right, -Maximilian, I will follow you. I will leave the paternal -home, I will give up all. Oh, ungrateful girl that I am," -cried Valentine, sobbing, "I will give up all, even my dear -old grandfather, whom I had nearly forgotten." -"No," said Maximilian, "you shall not leave him. M. Noirtier -has evinced, you say, a kind feeling towards me. Well, -before you leave, tell him all his consent would be your -justification in God's sight. As soon as we are married, he -shall come and live with us, instead of one child, he shall -have two. You have told me how you talk to him and how he -answers you I shall very soon learn that language by signs, -Valentine, and I promise you solemnly, that instead of -despair, it is happiness that awaits us." -"Oh, see, Maximilian, see the power you have over me, you -almost make me believe you and yet, what you tell me is -madness, for my father will curse me he is inflexible -he will never pardon me. Now listen to me, Maximilian if by -artifice, by entreaty, by accident in short, if by any -means I can delay this marriage, will you wait?" -"Yes, I promise you, as faithfully as you have promised me -that this horrible marriage shall not take place, and that -if you are dragged before a magistrate or a priest, you will -refuse." -"I promise you by all that is most sacred to me in the -world, namely, by my mother." -"We will wait, then," said Morrel. -"Yes, we will wait," replied Valentine, who revived at these -words "there are so many things which may save unhappy -beings such as we are." -"I rely on you, Valentine," said Morrel "all you do will be -well done only if they disregard your prayers, if your -father and Madame de SaintMeran insist that M. d'Epinay -should be called tomorrow to sign the contract" -"Then you have my promise, Maximilian." -"Instead of signing" -"I will go to you, and we will fly but from this moment -until then, let us not tempt providence, let us not see each -other. It is a miracle, it is a providence that we have not -been discovered. If we were surprised, if it were known that -we met thus, we should have no further resource." -"You are right, Valentine but how shall I ascertain?" -"From the notary, M. Deschamps." -"I know him." -"And for myself I will write to you, depend on me. I -dread this marriage, Maximilian, as much as you." -"Thank you, my adored Valentine, thank you that is enough. -When once I know the hour, I will hasten to this spot, you -can easily get over this fence with my assistance, a -carriage will await us at the gate, in which you will -accompany me to my sister's there living, retired or -mingling in society, as you wish, we shall be enabled to use -our power to resist oppression, and not suffer ourselves to -be put to death like sheep, which only defend themselves by -sighs." -"Yes," said Valentine, "I will now acknowledge you are -right, Maximilian and now are you satisfied with your -betrothal?" said the young girl sorrowfully. -"My adored Valentine, words cannot express one half of my -satisfaction." Valentine had approached, or rather, had -placed her lips so near the fence, that they nearly touched -those of Morrel, which were pressed against the other side -of the cold and inexorable barrier. "Adieu, then, till we -meet again," said Valentine, tearing herself away. "I shall -hear from you?" -"Yes." -"Thanks, thanks, dear love, adieu" The sound of a kiss was -heard, and Valentine fled through the avenue. Morrel -listened to catch the last sound of her dress brushing the -branches, and of her footstep on the gravel, then raised his -eyes with an ineffable smile of thankfulness to heaven for -being permitted to be thus loved, and then also disappeared. -The young man returned home and waited all the evening and -all the next day without getting any message. It was only on -the following day, at about ten o'clock in the morning, as -he was starting to call on M. Deschamps, the notary, that he -received from the postman a small billet, which he knew to -be from Valentine, although he had not before seen her -writing. It was to this effect -Tears, entreaties, prayers, have availed me nothing. -Yesterday, for two hours, I was at the church of -SaintPhillippe du Roule, and for two hours I prayed most -fervently. Heaven is as inflexible as man, and the signature -of the contract is fixed for this evening at nine o'clock. I -have but one promise and but one heart to give that promise -is pledged to you, that heart is also yours. This evening, -then, at a quarter to nine at the gate. -Your betrothed, -Valentine de Villefort. -P.S. My poor grandmother gets worse and worse yesterday -her fever amounted to delirium today her delirium is -almost madness. You will be very kind to me, will you not, -Morrel, to make me forget my sorrow in leaving her thus? I -think it is kept a secret from grandpapa Noirtier, that the -contract is to be signed this evening. -Morrel went also to the notary, who confirmed the news that -the contract was to be signed that evening. Then he went to -call on Monte Cristo and heard still more. Franz had been to -announce the ceremony, and Madame de Villefort had also -written to beg the count to excuse her not inviting him the -death of M. de SaintMeran and the dangerous illness of his -widow would cast a gloom over the meeting which she would -regret should be shared by the count whom she wished every -happiness. The day before Franz had been presented to Madame -de SaintMeran, who had left her bed to receive him, but had -been obliged to return to it immediately after. It is easy -to suppose that Morrel's agitation would not escape the -count's penetrating eye. Monte Cristo was more affectionate -than ever, indeed, his manner was so kind that several -times Morrel was on the point of telling him all. But he -recalled the promise he had made to Valentine, and kept his -secret. -The young man read Valentine's letter twenty times in the -course of the day. It was her first, and on what an -occasion Each time he read it he renewed his vow to make -her happy. How great is the power of a woman who has made so -courageous a resolution What devotion does she deserve from -him for whom she has sacrificed everything How ought she -really to be supremely loved She becomes at once a queen -and a wife, and it is impossible to thank and love her -sufficiently. Morrel longed intensely for the moment when he -should hear Valentine say, "Here I am, Maximilian come and -help me." He had arranged everything for her escape two -ladders were hidden in the cloverfield a cabriolet was -ordered for Maximilian alone, without a servant, without -lights at the turning of the first street they would light -the lamps, as it would be foolish to attract the notice of -the police by too many precautions. Occasionally he -shuddered he thought of the moment when, from the top of -that wall, he should protect the descent of his dear -Valentine, pressing in his arms for the first time her of -whom he had yet only kissed the delicate hand. -When the afternoon arrived and he felt that the hour was -drawing near, he wished for solitude, his agitation was -extreme a simple question from a friend would have -irritated him. He shut himself in his room, and tried to -read, but his eye glanced over the page without -understanding a word, and he threw away the book, and for -the second time sat down to sketch his plan, the ladders and -the fence. At length the hour drew near. Never did a man -deeply in love allow the clocks to go on peacefully. Morrel -tormented his so effectually that they struck eight at -halfpast six. He then said, "It is time to start the -signature was indeed fixed to take place at nine o'clock, -but perhaps Valentine will not wait for that." Consequently, -Morrel, having left the Rue Meslay at halfpast eight by his -timepiece, entered the cloverfield while the clock of -SaintPhillippe du Roule was striking eight. The horse and -cabriolet were concealed behind a small ruin, where Morrel -had often waited. -The night gradually drew on, and the foliage in the garden -assumed a deeper hue. Then Morrel came out from his -hidingplace with a beating heart, and looked through the -small opening in the gate there was yet no one to be seen. -The clock struck halfpast eight, and still another -halfhour was passed in waiting, while Morrel walked to and -fro, and gazed more and more frequently through the opening. -The garden became darker still, but in the darkness he -looked in vain for the white dress, and in the silence he -vainly listened for the sound of footsteps. The house, which -was discernible through the trees, remained in darkness, and -gave no indication that so important an event as the -signature of a marriagecontract was going on. Morrel looked -at his watch, which wanted a quarter to ten but soon the -same clock he had already heard strike two or three times -rectified the error by striking halfpast nine. -This was already half an hour past the time Valentine had -fixed. It was a terrible moment for the young man. The -slightest rustling of the foliage, the least whistling of -the wind, attracted his attention, and drew the perspiration -to his brow then he tremblingly fixed his ladder, and, not -to lose a moment, placed his foot on the first step. Amidst -all these alternations of hope and fear, the clock struck -ten. "It is impossible," said Maximilian, "that the signing -of a contract should occupy so long a time without -unexpected interruptions. I have weighed all the chances, -calculated the time required for all the forms something -must have happened." And then he walked rapidly to and fro, -and pressed his burning forehead against the fence. Had -Valentine fainted? or had she been discovered and stopped in -her flight? These were the only obstacles which appeared -possible to the young man. -The idea that her strength had failed her in attempting to -escape, and that she had fainted in one of the paths, was -the one that most impressed itself upon his mind. "In that -case," said he, "I should lose her, and by my own fault." He -dwelt on this idea for a moment, then it appeared reality. -He even thought he could perceive something on the ground at -a distance he ventured to call, and it seemed to him that -the wind wafted back an almost inarticulate sigh. At last -the halfhour struck. It was impossible to wait longer, his -temples throbbed violently, his eyes were growing dim he -passed one leg over the wall, and in a moment leaped down on -the other side. He was on Villefort's premises had -arrived there by scaling the wall. What might be the -consequences? However, he had not ventured thus far to draw -back. He followed a short distance close under the wall, -then crossed a path, hid entered a clump of trees. In a -moment he had passed through them, and could see the house -distinctly. Then Morrel saw that he had been right in -believing that the house was not illuminated. Instead of -lights at every window, as is customary on days of ceremony, -he saw only a gray mass, which was veiled also by a cloud, -which at that moment obscured the moon's feeble light. A -light moved rapidly from time to time past three windows of -the second floor. These three windows were in Madame de -SaintMeran's room. Another remained motionless behind some -red curtains which were in Madame de Villefort's bedroom. -Morrel guessed all this. So many times, in order to follow -Valentine in thought at every hour in the day, had he made -her describe the whole house, that without having seen it he -knew it all. -This darkness and silence alarmed Morrel still more than -Valentine's absence had done. Almost mad with grief, and -determined to venture everything in order to see Valentine -once more, and be certain of the misfortune he feared, -Morrel gained the edge of the clump of trees, and was going -to pass as quickly as possible through the flowergarden, -when the sound of a voice, still at some distance, but which -was borne upon the wind, reached him. -At this sound, as he was already partially exposed to view, -he stepped back and concealed himself completely, remaining -perfectly motionless. He had formed his resolution. If it -was Valentine alone, he would speak as she passed if she -was accompanied, and he could not speak, still he should see -her, and know that she was safe if they were strangers, he -would listen to their conversation, and might understand -something of this hitherto incomprehensible mystery. The -moon had just then escaped from behind the cloud which had -concealed it, and Morrel saw Villefort come out upon the -steps, followed by a gentleman in black. They descended, and -advanced towards the clump of trees, and Morrel soon -recognized the other gentleman as Doctor d'Avrigny. -The young man, seeing them approach, drew back mechanically, -until he found himself stopped by a sycamoretree in the -centre of the clump there he was compelled to remain. Soon -the two gentlemen stopped also. -"Ah, my dear doctor," said the procureur, "heaven declares -itself against my house What a dreadful death what a -blow Seek not to console me alas, nothing can alleviate so -great a sorrow the wound is too deep and too fresh Dead, -dead" The cold sweat sprang to the young man's brow, and -his teeth chattered. Who could be dead in that house, which -Villefort himself had called accursed? "My dear M. de -Villefort," replied the doctor, with a tone which redoubled -the terror of the young man, "I have not led you here to -console you on the contrary" -"What can you mean?" asked the procureur, alarmed. -"I mean that behind the misfortune which has just happened -to you, there is another, perhaps, still greater." -"Can it be possible?" murmured Villefort, clasping his -hands. "What are you going to tell me?" -"Are we quite alone, my friend?" -"Yes, quite but why all these precautions?" -"Because I have a terrible secret to communicate to you," -said the doctor. "Let us sit down." -Villefort fell, rather than seated himself The doctor stood -before him, with one hand placed on his shoulder. Morrel, -horrified, supported his head with one hand, and with the -other pressed his heart, lest its beatings should be heard. -"Dead, dead" repeated he within himself and he felt as if -he were also dying. -"Speak, doctor I am listening," said Villefort "strike -I am prepared for everything" -"Madame de SaintMeran was, doubtless, advancing in years, -but she enjoyed excellent health." Morrel began again to -breathe freely, which he had not done during the last ten -minutes. -"Grief has consumed her," said Villefort "yes, grief, -doctor After living forty years with the marquis" -"It is not grief, my dear Villefort," said the doctor -"grief may kill, although it rarely does, and never in a -day, never in an hour, never in ten minutes." Villefort -answered nothing, he simply raised his head, which had been -cast down before, and looked at the doctor with amazement. -"Were you present during the last struggle?" asked M. -d'Avrigny. -"I was," replied the procureur "you begged me not to -leave." -"Did you notice the symptoms of the disease to which Madame -de SaintMeran has fallen a victim?" -"I did. Madame de SaintMeran had three successive attacks, -at intervals of some minutes, each one more serious than the -former. When you arrived, Madame de SaintMeran had already -been panting for breath some minutes she then had a fit, -which I took to be simply a nervous attack, and it was only -when I saw her raise herself in the bed, and her limbs and -neck appear stiffened, that I became really alarmed. Then I -understood from your countenance there was more to fear than -I had thought. This crisis past, I endeavored to catch your -eye, but could not. You held her hand you were feeling -her pulse and the second fit came on before you had -turned towards me. This was more terrible than the first -the same nervous movements were repeated, and the mouth -contracted and turned purple." -"And at the third she expired." -"At the end of the first attack I discovered symptoms of -tetanus you confirmed my opinion." -"Yes, before others," replied the doctor "but now we are -alone" -"What are you going to say? Oh, spare me" -"That the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by vegetable -substances are the same." M. de Villefort started from his -seat, then in a moment fell down again, silent and -motionless. Morrel knew not if he were dreaming or awake. -"Listen," said the doctor "I know the full importance of the -statement I have just made, and the disposition of the man -to whom I have made it." -"Do you speak to me as a magistrate or as a friend?" asked -Villefort. -"As a friend, and only as a friend, at this moment. The -similarity in the symptoms of tetanus and poisoning by -vegetable substances is so great, that were I obliged to -affirm by oath what I have now stated, I should hesitate I -therefore repeat to you, I speak not to a magistrate, but to -a friend. And to that friend I say. "During the -threequarters of an hour that the struggle continued, I -watched the convulsions and the death of Madame de -SaintMeran, and am thoroughly convinced that not only did -her death proceed from poison, but I could also specify the -poison.'" -"Can it be possible?" -"The symptoms are marked, do you see? sleep broken by -nervous spasms, excitation of the brain, torpor of the nerve -centres. Madame de SaintMeran succumbed to a powerful dose -of brucine or of strychnine, which by some mistake, perhaps, -has been given to her." Villefort seized the doctor's hand. -"Oh, it is impossible," said he, "I must be dreaming It is -frightful to hear such things from such a man as you Tell -me, I entreat you, my dear doctor, that you may be -deceived." -"Doubtless I may, but" -"But?" -"But I do not think so." -"Have pity on me doctor So many dreadful things have -happened to me lately that I am on the verge of madness." -"Has any one besides me seen Madame de SaintMeran?" -"No." -"Has anything been sent for from a chemist's that I have not -examined?" -"Nothing." -"Had Madame de SaintMeran any enemies?" -"Not to my knowledge." -"Would her death affect any one's interest?" -"It could not indeed, my daughter is her only heiress -Valentine alone. Oh, if such a thought could present itself, -I would stab myself to punish my heart for having for one -instant harbored it." -"Indeed, my dear friend," said M. d'Avrigny, "I would not -accuse any one I speak only of an accident, you understand, -of a mistake, but whether accident or mistake, the -fact is there it is on my conscience and compels me to -speak aloud to you. Make inquiry." -"Of whom? how? of what?" -"May not Barrois, the old servant, have made a mistake, and -have given Madame de SaintMeran a dose prepared for his -master?" -"For my father?" -"Yes." -"But how could a dose prepared for M. Noirtier poison Madame -de SaintMeran?" -"Nothing is more simple. You know poisons become remedies in -certain diseases, of which paralysis is one. For instance, -having tried every other remedy to restore movement and -speech to M. Noirtier, I resolved to try one last means, and -for three months I have been giving him brucine so that in -the last dose I ordered for him there were six grains. This -quantity, which is perfectly safe to administer to the -paralyzed frame of M. Noirtier, which has become gradually -accustomed to it, would be sufficient to kill another -person." -"My dear doctor, there is no communication between M. -Noirtier's apartment and that of Madame de SaintMeran, and -Barrois never entered my motherinlaw's room. In short, -doctor although I know you to be the most conscientious man -in the world, and although I place the utmost reliance in -you, I want, notwithstanding my conviction, to believe this -axiom, errare humanum est." -"Is there one of my brethren in whom you have equal -confidence with myself?" -"Why do you ask me that? what do you wish?" -"Send for him I will tell him what I have seen, and we will -consult together, and examine the body." -"And you will find traces of poison?" -"No, I did not say of poison, but we can prove what was the -state of the body we shall discover the cause of her sudden -death, and we shall say, "Dear Villefort, if this thing has -been caused by negligence, watch over your servants if from -hatred, watch your enemies.'" -"What do you propose to me, d'Avrigny?" said Villefort in -despair "so soon as another is admitted into our secret, an -inquest will become necessary and an inquest in my house -impossible Still," continued the procureur, looking at the -doctor with uneasiness, "if you wish it if you demand it, -why then it shall be done. But, doctor, you see me already -so grieved how can I introduce into my house so much -scandal, after so much sorrow? My wife and my daughter would -die of it And I, doctor you know a man does not arrive -at the post I occupy one has not been king's attorney -twentyfive years without having amassed a tolerable number -of enemies mine are numerous. Let this affair be talked of, -it will be a triumph for them, which will make them rejoice, -and cover me with shame. Pardon me, doctor, these worldly -ideas were you a priest I should not dare tell you that, -but you are a man, and you know mankind. Doctor, pray recall -your words you have said nothing, have you?" -"My dear M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, "my first -duty is to humanity. I would have saved Madame de -SaintMeran, if science could have done it but she is dead -and my duty regards the living. Let us bury this terrible -secret in the deepest recesses of our hearts I am willing, -if any one should suspect this, that my silence on the -subject should be imputed to my ignorance. Meanwhile, sir, -watch always watch carefully, for perhaps the evil may -not stop here. And when you have found the culprit, if you -find him, I will say to you, "You are a magistrate, do as -you will'" -"I thank you, doctor," said Villefort with indescribable -joy "I never had a better friend than you." And, as if he -feared Doctor d'Avrigny would recall his promise, he hurried -him towards the house. -When they were gone, Morrel ventured out from under the -trees, and the moon shone upon his face, which was so pale -it might have been taken for that of a ghost. "I am -manifestly protected in a most wonderful, but most terrible -manner," said he "but Valentine, poor girl, how will she -bear so much sorrow?" -As he thought thus, he looked alternately at the window with -red curtains and the three windows with white curtains. The -light had almost disappeared from the former doubtless -Madame de Villefort had just put out her lamp, and the -nightlamp alone reflected its dull light on the window. At -the extremity of the building, on the contrary, he saw one -of the three windows open. A waxlight placed on the -mantlepiece threw some of its pale rays without, and a -shadow was seen for one moment on the balcony. Morrel -shuddered he thought he heard a sob. -It cannot be wondered at that his mind, generally so -courageous, but now disturbed by the two strongest human -passions, love and fear, was weakened even to the indulgence -of superstitious thoughts. Although it was impossible that -Valentine should see him, hidden as he was, he thought he -heard the shadow at the window call him his disturbed mind -told him so. This double error became an irresistible -reality, and by one of the incomprehensible transports of -youth, he bounded from his hidingplace, and with two -strides, at the risk of being seen, at the risk of alarming -Valentine, at the risk of being discovered by some -exclamation which might escape the young girl, he crossed -the flowergarden, which by the light of the moon resembled -a large white lake, and having passed the rows of -orangetrees which extended in front of the house, he -reached the step, ran quickly up and pushed the door, which -opened without offering any resistance. Valentine had not -seen him. Her eyes, raised towards heaven, were watching a -silvery cloud gliding over the azure, its form that of a -shadow mounting towards heaven. Her poetic and excited mind -pictured it as the soul of her grandmother. -Meanwhile, Morrel had traversed the anteroom and found the -staircase, which, being carpeted, prevented his approach -being heard, and he had regained that degree of confidence -that the presence of M. de Villefort even would not have -alarmed him. He was quite prepared for any such encounter. -He would at once approach Valentine's father and acknowledge -all, begging Villefort to pardon and sanction the love which -united two fond and loving hearts. Morrel was mad. Happily -he did not meet any one. Now, especially, did he find the -description Valentine had given of the interior of the house -useful to him he arrived safely at the top of the -staircase, and while he was feeling his way, a sob indicated -the direction he was to take. He turned back, a door partly -open enabled him to see his road, and to hear the voice of -one in sorrow. He pushed the door open and entered. At the -other end of the room, under a white sheet which covered it, -lay the corpse, still more alarming to Morrel since the -account he had so unexpectedly overheard. By its side, on -her knees, and with her head buried in the cushion of an -easychair, was Valentine, trembling and sobbing, her hands -extended above her head, clasped and stiff. She had turned -from the window, which remained open, and was praying in -accents that would have affected the most unfeeling her -words were rapid, incoherent, unintelligible, for the -burning weight of grief almost stopped her utterance. The -moon shining through the open blinds made the lamp appear to -burn paler, and cast a sepulchral hue over the whole scene. -Morrel could not resist this he was not exemplary for -piety, he was not easily impressed, but Valentine suffering, -weeping, wringing her hands before him, was more than he -could bear in silence. He sighed, and whispered a name, and -the head bathed in tears and pressed on the velvet cushion -of the chair a head like that of a Magdalen by Correggio -was raised and turned towards him. Valentine perceived -him without betraying the least surprise. A heart -overwhelmed with one great grief is insensible to minor -emotions. Morrel held out his hand to her. Valentine, as her -only apology for not having met him, pointed to the corpse -under the sheet, and began to sob again. Neither dared for -some time to speak in that room. They hesitated to break the -silence which death seemed to impose at length Valentine -ventured. -"My friend," said she, "how came you here? Alas, I would say -you are welcome, had not death opened the way for you into -this house." -"Valentine," said Morrel with a trembling voice, "I had -waited since halfpast eight, and did not see you come I -became uneasy, leaped the wall, found my way through the -garden, when voices conversing about the fatal event" -"What voices ?" asked Valentine. Morrel shuddered as he -thought of the conversation of the doctor and M. de -Villefort, and he thought he could see through the sheet the -extended hands, the stiff neck, and the purple lips. -"Your servants," said he, "who were repeating the whole of -the sorrowful story from them I learned it all." -"But it was risking the failure of our plan to come up here, -love." -"Forgive me," replied Morrel "I will go away." -"No," said Valentine, "you might meet some one stay." -"But if any one should come here" -The young girl shook her head. "No one will come," said she -"do not fear, there is our safeguard," pointing to the bed. -"But what has become of M. d'Epinay?" replied Morrel. -"M. Franz arrived to sign the contract just as my dear -grandmother was dying." -"Alas," said Morrel with a feeling of selfish joy for he -thought this death would cause the wedding to be postponed -indefinitely. "But what redoubles my sorrow," continued the -young girl, as if this feeling was to receive its immediate -punishment, "is that the poor old lady, on her deathbed, -requested that the marriage might take place as soon as -possible she also, thinking to protect me, was acting -against me." -"Hark" said Morrel. They both listened steps were -distinctly heard in the corridor and on the stairs. -"It is my father, who has just left his study." -"To accompany the doctor to the door," added Morrel. -"How do you know it is the doctor?" asked Valentine, -astonished. -"I imagined it must be," said Morrel. Valentine looked at -the young man they heard the street door close, then M. de -Villefort locked the garden door, and returned upstairs. He -stopped a moment in the anteroom, as if hesitating whether -to turn to his own apartment or into Madame de -SaintMeran's Morrel concealed himself behind a door -Valentine remained motionless, grief seeming to deprive her -of all fear. M. de Villefort passed on to his own room. -"Now," said Valentine, "you can neither go out by the front -door nor by the garden." Morrel looked at her with -astonishment. "There is but one way left you that is safe," -said she "it is through my grandfather's room." She rose, -"Come," she added. "Where?" asked Maximilian. -"To my grandfather's room." -"I in M. Noirtier's apartment?" -"Yes." -"Can you mean it, Valentine?" -"I have long wished it he is my only remaining friend and -we both need his help, come." -"Be careful, Valentine," said Morrel, hesitating to comply -with the young girl's wishes "I now see my error I acted -like a madman in coming in here. Are you sure you are more -reasonable?" -"Yes," said Valentine "and I have but one scruple, that -of leaving my dear grandmother's remains, which I had -undertaken to watch." -"Valentine," said Morrel, "death is in itself sacred." -"Yes," said Valentine "besides, it will not be for long." -She then crossed the corridor, and led the way down a narrow -staircase to M. Noirtier's room Morrel followed her on -tiptoe at the door they found the old servant. "Barrois," -said Valentine, "shut the door, and let no one come in." She -passed first. Noirtier, seated in his chair, and listening -to every sound, was watching the door he saw Valentine, and -his eye brightened. There was something grave and solemn in -the approach of the young girl which struck the old man, and -immediately his bright eye began to interrogate. "Dear -grandfather." said she hurriedly, "you know poor grandmamma -died an hour since, and now I have no friend in the world -but you." His expressive eyes evinced the greatest -tenderness. "To you alone, then, may I confide my sorrows -and my hopes?" The paralytic motioned "Yes." Valentine took -Maximilian's hand. "Look attentively, then, at this -gentleman." The old man fixed his scrutinizing gaze with -slight astonishment on Morrel. "It is M. Maximilian Morrel," -said she "the son of that good merchant of Marseilles, whom -you doubtless recollect." -"Yes," said the old man. "He brings an irreproachable name, -which Maximilian is likely to render glorious, since at -thirty years of age he is a captain, an officer of the -Legion of Honor." The old man signified that he recollected -him. "Well, grandpapa," said Valentine, kneeling before him, -and pointing to Maximilian, "I love him, and will be only -his were I compelled to marry another, I would destroy -myself." -The eyes of the paralytic expressed a multitude of -tumultuous thoughts. "You like M. Maximilian Morrel, do you -not, grandpapa?" asked Valentine. -"Yes." -"And you will protect us, who are your children, against the -will of my father?" Noirtier cast an intelligent glance -at Morrel, as if to say, "perhaps I may." Maximilian -understood him. -"Mademoiselle," said he, "you have a sacred duty to fulfil -in your deceased grandmother's room, will you allow me the -honor of a few minutes' conversation with M. Noirtier?" -"That is it," said the old man's eye. Then he looked -anxiously at Valentine. -"Do you fear he will not understand?" -"Yes." -"Oh, we have so often spoken of you, that he knows exactly -how I talk to you." Then turning to Maximilian, with an -adorable smile although shaded by sorrow, "He knows -everything I know," said she. -Valentine arose, placed a chair for Morrel, requested -Barrois not to admit any one, and having tenderly embraced -her grandfather, and sorrowfully taken leave of Morrel, she -went away. To prove to Noirtier that he was in Valentine's -confidence and knew all their secrets, Morrel took the -dictionary, a pen, and some paper, and placed them all on a -table where there was a light. -"But first," said Morrel, "allow me, sir, to tell you who I -am, how much I love Mademoiselle Valentine, and what are my -designs respecting her." Noirtier made a sign that he would -listen. -It was an imposing sight to witness this old man, apparently -a mere useless burden, becoming the sole protector, support, -and adviser of the lovers who were both young, beautiful, -and strong. His remarkably noble and austere expression -struck Morrel, who began his story with trembling. He -related the manner in which he had become acquainted with -Valentine, and how he had loved her, and that Valentine, in -her solitude and her misfortune, had accepted the offer of -his devotion. He told him his birth, his position, his -fortune, and more than once, when he consulted the look of -the paralytic, that look answered, "That is good, proceed." -"And now," said Morrel, when he had finished the first part -of his recital, "now I have told you of my love and my -hopes, may I inform you of my intentions?" -"Yes," signified the old man. -"This was our resolution a cabriolet was in waiting at the -gate, in which I intended to carry off Valentine to my -sister's house, to marry her, and to wait respectfully M. de -Villefort's pardon." -"No," said Noirtier. -"We must not do so?" -"No." -"You do not sanction our project?" -"No." -"There is another way," said Morrel. The old man's -interrogative eye said, "What?" -"I will go," continued Maximilian, "I will seek M. Franz -d'Epinay I am happy to be able to mention this in -Mademoiselle de Villefort's absence and will conduct -myself toward him so as to compel him to challenge me." -Noirtier's look continued to interrogate. "You wish to know -what I will do?" -"Yes." -"I will find him, as I told you. I will tell him the ties -which bind me to Mademoiselle Valentine if he be a sensible -man, he will prove it by renouncing of his own accord the -hand of his betrothed, and will secure my friendship, and -love until death if he refuse, either through interest or -ridiculous pride, after I have proved to him that he would -be forcing my wife from me, that Valentine loves me, and -will have no other, I will fight with him, give him every -advantage, and I shall kill him, or he will kill me if I am -victorious, he will not marry Valentine, and if I die, I am -very sure Valentine will not marry him." Noirtier watched, -with indescribable pleasure, this noble and sincere -countenance, on which every sentiment his tongue uttered was -depicted, adding by the expression of his fine features all -that coloring adds to a sound and faithful drawing. Still, -when Morrel had finished, he shut his eyes several times, -which was his manner of saying "No." -"No?" said Morrel "you disapprove of this second project, -as you did of the first?" -"I do," signified the old man. -"But what then must be done?" asked Morrel. "Madame de -SaintMeran's last request was, that the marriage might not -be delayed must I let things take their course?" Noirtier -did not move. "I understand," said Morrel "I am to wait." -"Yes." -"But delay may ruin our plan, sir," replied the young man. -"Alone, Valentine has no power she will be compelled to -submit. I am here almost miraculously, and can scarcely hope -for so good an opportunity to occur again. Believe me, there -are only the two plans I have proposed to you forgive my -vanity, and tell me which you prefer. Do you authorize -Mademoiselle Valentine to intrust herself to my honor?" -"No." -"Do you prefer I should seek M. d'Epinay?" -"No." -"Whence then will come the help we need from chance?" -resumed Morrel. -"No." -"From you?" -"Yes." -"You thoroughly understand me, sir? Pardon my eagerness, for -my life depends on your answer. Will our help come from -you?" -"Yes." -"You are sure of it?" -"Yes." There was so much firmness in the look which gave -this answer, no one could, at any rate, doubt his will, if -they did his power. "Oh, thank you a thousand times But -how, unless a miracle should restore your speech, your -gesture, your movement, how can you, chained to that -armchair, dumb and motionless, oppose this marriage?" A -smile lit up the old man's face, a strange smile of the eyes -in a paralyzed face. "Then I must wait?" asked the young -man. -"Yes." -"But the contract?" The same smile returned. "Will you -assure me it shall not be signed?" -"Yes," said Noirtier. -"The contract shall not be signed" cried Morrel. "Oh, -pardon me, sir I can scarcely realize so great a happiness. -Will they not sign it?" -"No," said the paralytic. Notwithstanding that assurance, -Morrel still hesitated. This promise of an impotent old man -was so strange that, instead of being the result of the -power of his will, it might emanate from enfeebled organs. -Is it not natural that the madman, ignorant of his folly, -should attempt things beyond his power? The weak man talks -of burdens he can raise, the timid of giants he can -confront, the poor of treasures he spends, the most humble -peasant, in the height of his pride, calls himself Jupiter. -Whether Noirtier understood the young man's indecision, or -whether he had not full confidence in his docility, he -looked uneasily at him. "What do you wish, sir?" asked -Morrel "that I should renew my promise of remaining -tranquil?" Noirtier's eye remained fixed and firm, as if to -imply that a promise did not suffice then it passed from -his face to his hands. -"Shall I swear to you, sir?" asked Maximilian. -"Yes?" said the paralytic with the same solemnity. Morrel -understood that the old man attached great importance to an -oath. He extended his hand. -"I swear to you, on my honor," said he, "to await your -decision respecting the course I am to pursue with M. -d'Epinay." -"That is right," said the old man. -"Now," said Morrel, "do you wish me to retire?" -"Yes." -"Without seeing Mademoiselle Valentine?" -"Yes." -Morrel made a sign that he was ready to obey. "But," said -he, "first allow me to embrace you as your daughter did just -now." Noirtier's expression could not be understood. The -young man pressed his lips on the same spot, on the old -man's forehead, where Valentine's had been. Then he bowed a -second time and retired. He found outside the door the old -servant, to whom Valentine had given directions. Morrel was -conducted along a dark passage, which led to a little door -opening on the garden, soon found the spot where he had -entered, with the assistance of the shrubs gained the top of -the wall, and by his ladder was in an instant in the -cloverfield where his cabriolet was still waiting for him. -He got in it, and thoroughly wearied by so many emotions, -arrived about midnight in the Rue Meslay, threw himself on -his bed and slept soundly. -Chapter -The Villefort Family Vault. -Two days after, a considerable crowd was assembled, towards -ten o'clock in the morning, around the door of M. de -Villefort's house, and a long file of mourningcoaches and -private carriages extended along the Faubourg SaintHonore -and the Rue de la Pepiniere. Among them was one of a very -singular form, which appeared to have come from a distance. -It was a kind of covered wagon, painted black, and was one -of the first to arrive. Inquiry was made, and it was -ascertained that, by a strange coincidence, this carriage -contained the corpse of the Marquis de SaintMeran, and that -those who had come thinking to attend one funeral would -follow two. Their number was great. The Marquis de -SaintMeran, one of the most zealous and faithful -dignitaries of Louis XVIII. and King Charles X., had -preserved a great number of friends, and these, added to the -personages whom the usages of society gave Villefort a claim -on, formed a considerable body. -Due information was given to the authorities, and permission -obtained that the two funerals should take place at the same -time. A second hearse, decked with the same funereal pomp, -was brought to M. de Villefort's door, and the coffin -removed into it from the postwagon. The two bodies were to -be interred in the cemetery of PerelaChaise, where M. de -Villefort had long since had a tomb prepared for the -reception of his family. The remains of poor Renee were -already deposited there, and now, after ten years of -separation, her father and mother were to be reunited with -her. The Parisians, always curious, always affected by -funereal display, looked on with religious silence while the -splendid procession accompanied to their last abode two of -the number of the old aristocracy the greatest protectors -of commerce and sincere devotees to their principles. In one -of the mourningcoaches Beauchamp, Debray, and -ChateauRenaud were talking of the very sudden death of the -marchioness. "I saw Madame de SaintMeran only last year at -Marseilles, when I was coming back from Algiers," said -ChateauRenaud "she looked like a woman destined to live to -be a hundred years old, from her apparent sound health and -great activity of mind and body. How old was she?" -"Franz assured me," replied Albert, "that she was sixtysix -years old. But she has not died of old age, but of grief it -appears that since the death of the marquis, which affected -her very deeply, she has not completely recovered her -reason." -"But of what disease, then, did she die?" asked Debray. -"It is said to have been a congestion of the brain, or -apoplexy, which is the same thing, is it not?" -"Nearly." -"It is difficult to believe that it was apoplexy," said -Beauchamp. "Madame de SaintMeran, whom I once saw, was -short, of slender form, and of a much more nervous than -sanguine temperament grief could hardly produce apoplexy in -such a constitution as that of Madame de SaintMeran." -"At any rate," said Albert, "whatever disease or doctor may -have killed her, M. de Villefort, or rather, Mademoiselle -Valentine, or, still rather, our friend Franz, inherits a -magnificent fortune, amounting, I believe, to , livres -per annum." -"And this fortune will be doubled at the death of the old -Jacobin, Noirtier." -"That is a tenacious old grandfather," said Beauchamp. -"Tenacem propositi virum. I think he must have made an -agreement with death to outlive all his heirs, and he -appears likely to succeed. He resembles the old -Conventionalist of ', who said to Napoleon, in , "You -bend because your empire is a young stem, weakened by rapid -growth. Take the Republic for a tutor let us return with -renewed strength to the battlefield, and I promise you -, soldiers, another Marengo, and a second Austerlitz. -Ideas do not become extinct, sire they slumber sometimes, -but only revive the stronger before they sleep entirely.' -Ideas and men appeared the same to him. One thing only -puzzles me, namely, how Franz d'Epinay will like a -grandfather who cannot be separated from his wife. But where -is Franz?" -"In the first carriage, with M. de Villefort, who considers -him already as one of the family." -Such was the conversation in almost all the carriages these -two sudden deaths, so quickly following each other, -astonished every one, but no one suspected the terrible -secret which M. d'Avrigny had communicated, in his nocturnal -walk to M. de Villefort. They arrived in about an hour at -the cemetery the weather was mild, but dull, and in harmony -with the funeral ceremony. Among the groups which flocked -towards the family vault, ChateauRenaud recognized Morrel, -who had come alone in a cabriolet, and walked silently along -the path bordered with yewtrees. "You here?" said -ChateauRenaud, passing his arms through the young -captain's "are you a friend of Villefort's? How is it that -I have never met you at his house?" -"I am no acquaintance of M. de Villefort's." answered -Morrel, "but I was of Madame de SaintMeran." Albert came up -to them at this moment with Franz. -"The time and place are but illsuited for an introduction." -said Albert "but we are not superstitious. M. Morrel, allow -me to present to you M. Franz d'Epinay, a delightful -travelling companion, with whom I made the tour of Italy. My -dear Franz, M. Maximilian Morrel, an excellent friend I have -acquired in your absence, and whose name you will hear me -mention every time I make any allusion to affection, wit, or -amiability." Morrel hesitated for a moment he feared it -would be hypocritical to accost in a friendly manner the man -whom he was tacitly opposing, but his oath and the gravity -of the circumstances recurred to his memory he struggled to -conceal his emotion and bowed to Franz. "Mademoiselle de -Villefort is in deep sorrow, is she not?" said Debray to -Franz. -"Extremely," replied he "she looked so pale this morning, I -scarcely knew her." These apparently simple words pierced -Morrel to the heart. This man had seen Valentine, and spoken -to her The young and highspirited officer required all his -strength of mind to resist breaking his oath. He took the -arm of ChateauRenaud, and turned towards the vault, where -the attendants had already placed the two coffins. "This is -a magnificent habitation," said Beauchamp, looking towards -the mausoleum "a summer and winter palace. You will, in -turn, enter it, my dear d'Epinay, for you will soon be -numbered as one of the family. I, as a philosopher, should -like a little countryhouse, a cottage down there under the -trees, without so many freestones over my poor body. In -dying, I will say to those around me what Voltaire wrote to -Piron "Eo rus, and all will be over.' But come, Franz, take -courage, your wife is an heiress." -"Indeed, Beauchamp, you are unbearable. Politics has made -you laugh at everything, and political men have made you -disbelieve everything. But when you have the honor of -associating with ordinary men, and the pleasure of leaving -politics for a moment, try to find your affectionate heart, -which you leave with your stick when you go to the Chamber." -"But tell me," said Beauchamp, "what is life? Is it not a -hall in Death's anteroom?" -"I am prejudiced against Beauchamp," said Albert, drawing -Franz away, and leaving the former to finish his -philosophical dissertation with Debray. The Villefort vault -formed a square of white stones, about twenty feet high an -interior partition separated the two families, and each -apartment had its entrance door. Here were not, as in other -tombs, ignoble drawers, one above another, where thrift -bestows its dead and labels them like specimens in a museum -all that was visible within the bronze gates was a -gloomylooking room, separated by a wall from the vault -itself. The two doors before mentioned were in the middle of -this wall, and enclosed the Villefort and SaintMeran -coffins. There grief might freely expend itself without -being disturbed by the trifling loungers who came from a -picnic party to visit PerelaChaise, or by lovers who make -it their rendezvous. -The two coffins were placed on trestles previously prepared -for their reception in the righthand crypt belonging to the -SaintMeran family. Villefort, Franz, and a few near -relatives alone entered the sanctuary. -As the religious ceremonies had all been performed at the -door, and there was no address given, the party all -separated ChateauRenaud, Albert, and Morrel, went one way, -and Debray and Beauchamp the other. Franz remained with M. -de Villefort at the gate of the cemetery Morrel made an -excuse to wait he saw Franz and M. de Villefort get into -the same mourning coach, and thought this meeting forboded -evil. He then returned to Paris, and although in the same -carriage with ChateauRenaud and Albert, he did not hear one -word of their conversation. As Franz was about to take leave -of M. de Villefort, "When shall I see you again?" said the -latter. -"At what time you please, sir," replied Franz. -"As soon as possible." -"I am at your command, sir shall we return together?" -"If not unpleasant to you." -"On the contrary, I shall feel much pleasure." Thus, the -future father and soninlaw stepped into the same carriage, -and Morrel, seeing them pass, became uneasy. Villefort and -Franz returned to the Faubourg SaintHonore. The procureur, -without going to see either his wife or his daughter, went -at once to his study, and, offering the young man a chair, -"M. d'Epinay," said he, "allow me to remind you at this -moment, which is perhaps not so illchosen as at first -sight may appear, for obedience to the wishes of the -departed is the first offering which should be made at their -tomb, allow me then to remind you of the wish expressed -by Madame de SaintMeran on her deathbed, that Valentine's -wedding might not be deferred. You know the affairs of the -deceased are in perfect order, and her will bequeaths to -Valentine the entire property of the SaintMeran family the -notary showed me the documents yesterday, which will enable -us to draw up the contract immediately. You may call on the -notary, M. Deschamps, Place Beauveau, Faubourg SaintHonore, -and you have my authority to inspect those deeds." -"Sir," replied M. d'Epinay, "it is not, perhaps, the moment -for Mademoiselle Valentine, who is in deep distress, to -think of a husband indeed, I fear" -"Valentine will have no greater pleasure than that of -fulfilling her grandmother's last injunctions there will be -no obstacle from that quarter, I assure you." -"In that case," replied Franz, "as I shall raise none, you -may make arrangements when you please I have pledged my -word, and shall feel pleasure and happiness in adhering to -it." -"Then," said Villefort, "nothing further is required. The -contract was to have been signed three days since we shall -find it all ready, and can sign it today." -"But the mourning?" said Franz, hesitating. -"Don't be uneasy on that score," replied Villefort "no -ceremony will be neglected in my house. Mademoiselle de -Villefort may retire during the prescribed three months to -her estate of SaintMeran I say hers, for she inherits it -today. There, after a few days, if you like, the civil -marriage shall be celebrated without pomp or ceremony. -Madame de SaintMeran wished her daughter should be married -there. When that is over, you, sir, can return to Paris, -while your wife passes the time of her mourning with her -motherinlaw." -"As you please, sir," said Franz. -"Then," replied M. de Villefort, "have the kindness to wait -half an hour Valentine shall come down into the -drawingroom. I will send for M. Deschamps we will read and -sign the contract before we separate, and this evening -Madame de Villefort shall accompany Valentine to her -estate, where we will rejoin them in a week." -"Sir," said Franz, "I have one request to make." -"What is it?" -"I wish Albert de Morcerf and Raoul de ChateauRenaud to be -present at this signature you know they are my witnesses." -"Half an hour will suffice to apprise them will you go for -them yourself, or shall you send?" -"I prefer going, sir." -"I shall expect you, then, in half an hour, baron, and -Valentine will be ready." Franz bowed and left the room. -Scarcely had the door closed, when M. de Villefort sent to -tell Valentine to be ready in the drawingroom in half an -hour, as he expected the notary and M. d'Epinay and his -witnesses. The news caused a great sensation throughout the -house Madame de Villefort would not believe it, and -Valentine was thunderstruck. She looked around for help, and -would have gone down to her grandfather's room, but on the -stairs she met M. de Villefort, who took her arm and led her -into the drawingroom. In the anteroom, Valentine met -Barrois, and looked despairingly at the old servant. A -moment later, Madame de Villefort entered the drawingroom -with her little Edward. It was evident that she had shared -the grief of the family, for she was pale and looked -fatigued. She sat down, took Edward on her knees, and from -time to time pressed this child, on whom her affections -appeared centred, almost convulsively to her bosom. Two -carriages were soon heard to enter the court yard. One was -the notary's the other, that of Franz and his friends. In a -moment the whole party was assembled. Valentine was so pale -one might trace the blue veins from her temples, round her -eyes and down her cheeks. Franz was deeply affected. -ChateauRenaud and Albert looked at each other with -amazement the ceremony which was just concluded had not -appeared more sorrowful than did that which was about to -begin. Madame de Villefort had placed herself in the shadow -behind a velvet curtain, and as she constantly bent over her -child, it was difficult to read the expression of her face. -M. de Villefort was, as usual, unmoved. -The notary, after having according to the customary method -arranged the papers on the table, taken his place in an -armchair, and raised his spectacles, turned towards Franz -"Are you M. Franz de Quesnel, baron d'Epinay?" asked he, -although he knew it perfectly. -"Yes, sir," replied Franz. The notary bowed. "I have, then, -to inform you, sir, at the request of M. de Villefort, that -your projected marriage with Mademoiselle de Villefort has -changed the feeling of M. Noirtier towards his grandchild, -and that he disinherits her entirely of the fortune he would -have left her. Let me hasten to add," continued he, "that -the testator, having only the right to alienate a part of -his fortune, and having alienated it all, the will will not -bear scrutiny, and is declared null and void." -"Yes." said Villefort "but I warn M. d'Epinay, that during -my lifetime my father's will shall never be questioned, my -position forbidding any doubt to be entertained." -"Sir," said Franz, "I regret much that such a question has -been raised in the presence of Mademoiselle Valentine I -have never inquired the amount of her fortune, which, -however limited it may be, exceeds mine. My family has -sought consideration in this alliance with M. de Villefort -all I seek is happiness." Valentine imperceptibly thanked -him, while two silent tears rolled down her cheeks. -"Besides, sir," said Villefort, addressing himself to his -future soninlaw, "excepting the loss of a portion of your -hopes, this unexpected will need not personally wound you -M. Noirtier's weakness of mind sufficiently explains it. It -is not because Mademoiselle Valentine is going to marry you -that he is angry, but because she will marry, a union with -any other would have caused him the same sorrow. Old age is -selfish, sir, and Mademoiselle de Villefort has been a -faithful companion to M. Noirtier, which she cannot be when -she becomes the Baroness d'Epinay. My father's melancholy -state prevents our speaking to him on any subjects, which -the weakness of his mind would incapacitate him from -understanding, and I am perfectly convinced that at the -present time, although, he knows that his granddaughter is -going to be married, M. Noirtier has even forgotten the name -of his intended grandson." M. de Villefort had scarcely said -this, when the door opened, and Barrois appeared. -"Gentlemen," said he, in a tone strangely firm for a servant -speaking to his masters under such solemn circumstances, -"gentlemen, M. Noirtier de Villefort wishes to speak -immediately to M. Franz de Quesnel, baron d'Epinay" he, as -well as the notary, that there might be no mistake in the -person, gave all his titles to the bridegroom elect. -Villefort started, Madame de Villefort let her son slip from -her knees, Valentine rose, pale and dumb as a statue. Albert -and ChateauRenaud exchanged a second look, more full of -amazement than the first. The notary looked at Villefort. -"It is impossible," said the procureur. "M. d'Epinay cannot -leave the drawingroom at present." -"It is at this moment," replied Barrois with the same -firmness, "that M. Noirtier, my master, wishes to speak on -important subjects to M. Franz d'Epinay." -"Grandpapa Noirtier can speak now, then," said Edward, with -his habitual quickness. However, his remark did not make -Madame de Villefort even smile, so much was every mind -engaged, and so solemn was the situation. Astonishment was -at its height. Something like a smile was perceptible on -Madame de Villefort's countenance. Valentine instinctively -raised her eyes, as if to thank heaven. -"Pray go, Valentine," said M. de Villefort, "and see what -this new fancy of your grandfather's is." Valentine rose -quickly, and was hastening joyfully towards the door, when -M. de Villefort altered his intention. -"Stop," said he "I will go with you." -"Excuse me, sir," said Franz, "since M. Noirtier sent for -me, I am ready to attend to his wish besides, I shall be -happy to pay my respects to him, not having yet had the -honor of doing so." -"Pray, sir," said Villefort with marked uneasiness, "do not -disturb yourself." -"Forgive me, sir," said Franz in a resolute tone. "I would -not lose this opportunity of proving to M. Noirtier how -wrong it would be of him to encourage feelings of dislike to -me, which I am determined to conquer, whatever they may be, -by my devotion." And without listening to Villefort he -arose, and followed Valentine, who was running downstairs -with the joy of a shipwrecked mariner who finds a rock to -cling to. M. de Villefort followed them. ChateauRenaud and -Morcerf exchanged a third look of still increasing wonder. -Chapter -A Signed Statement. -Noirtier was prepared to receive them, dressed in black, and -installed in his armchair. When the three persons he -expected had entered, he looked at the door, which his valet -immediately closed. -"Listen," whispered Villefort to Valentine, who could not -conceal her joy "if M. Noirtier wishes to communicate -anything which would delay your marriage, I forbid you to -understand him." Valentine blushed, but did not answer. -Villefort, approaching Noirtier "Here is M. Franz -d'Epinay," said he "you requested to see him. We have all -wished for this interview, and I trust it will convince you -how illformed are your objections to Valentine's marriage." -Noirtier answered only by a look which made Villefort's -blood run cold. He motioned to Valentine to approach. In a -moment, thanks to her habit of conversing with her -grandfather, she understood that he asked for a key. Then -his eye was fixed on the drawer of a small chest between the -windows. She opened the drawer, and found a key and, -understanding that was what he wanted, again watched his -eyes, which turned toward an old secretary which had been -neglected for many years and was supposed to contain nothing -but useless documents. "Shall I open the secretary?" asked -Valentine. -"Yes," said the old man. -"And the drawers?" -"Yes." -"Those at the side?" -"No." -"The middle one?" -"Yes." Valentine opened it and drew out a bundle of papers. -"Is that what you wish for?" asked she. -"No." -She took successively all the other papers out till the -drawer was empty. "But there are no more," said she. -Noirtier's eye was fixed on the dictionary. "Yes, I -understand, grandfather," said the young girl. -He pointed to each letter of the alphabet. At the letter S -the old man stopped her. She opened, and found the word -"secret." -"Ah, is there a secret spring?" said Valentine. -"Yes," said Noirtier. -"And who knows it?" Noirtier looked at the door where the -servant had gone out. "Barrois?" said she. -"Yes." -"Shall I call him?" -"Yes." -Valentine went to the door, and called Barrois. Villefort's -impatience during this scene made the perspiration roll from -his forehead, and Franz was stupefied. The old servant came. -"Barrois," said Valentine, "my grandfather has told me to -open that drawer in the secretary, but there is a secret -spring in it, which you know will you open it?" -Barrois looked at the old man. "Obey," said Noirtier's -intelligent eye. Barrois touched a spring, the false bottom -came out, and they saw a bundle of papers tied with a black -string. -"Is that what you wish for?" said Barrois. -"Yes." -"Shall I give these papers to M. de Villefort?" -"No." -"To Mademoiselle Valentine?" -"No." -"To M. Franz d'Epinay?" -"Yes." -Franz, astonished, advanced a step. "To me, sir?" said he. -"Yes." Franz took them from Barrois and casting a glance at -the cover, read -""To be given, after my death, to General Durand, who shall -bequeath the packet to his son, with an injunction to -preserve it as containing an important document.' -"Well, sir," asked Franz, "what do you wish me to do with -this paper?" -"To preserve it, sealed up as it is, doubtless," said the -procureur. -"No," replied Noirtier eagerly. -"Do you wish him to read it?" said Valentine. -"Yes," replied the old man. "You understand, baron, my -grandfather wishes you to read this paper," said Valentine. -"Then let us sit down," said Villefort impatiently, "for it -will take some time." -"Sit down," said the old man. Villefort took a chair, but -Valentine remained standing by her father's side, and Franz -before him, holding the mysterious paper in his hand. -"Read," said the old man. Franz untied it, and in the midst -of the most profound silence read -""Extract from the Report of a meeting of the Bonapartist -Club in the Rue SaintJacques, held February th, .'" -Franz stopped. "February th, " said he "it is the day -my father was murdered." Valentine and Villefort were dumb -the eye of the old man alone seemed to say clearly, "Go on." -"But it was on leaving this club," said he, "my father -disappeared." Noirtier's eye continued to say, "Read." He -resumed -""The undersigned Louis Jacques Beaurepaire, -lieutenantcolonel of artillery, Etienne Duchampy, general -of brigade, and Claude Lecharpal, keeper of woods and -forests, Declare, that on the th of February, a letter -arrived from the Island of Elba, recommending to the -kindness and the confidence of the Bonapartist Club, General -Flavien de Quesnel, who having served the emperor from -to was supposed to be devoted to the interests of the -Napoleon dynasty, notwithstanding the title of baron which -Louis XVIII. had just granted to him with his estate of -Epinay. -""A note was in consequence addressed to General de Quesnel, -begging him to be present at the meeting next day, the th. -The note indicated neither the street nor the number of the -house where the meeting was to be held it bore no -signature, but it announced to the general that some one -would call for him if he would be ready at nine o'clock. The -meetings were always held from that time till midnight. At -nine o'clock the president of the club presented himself -the general was ready, the president informed him that one -of the conditions of his introduction was that he should be -eternally ignorant of the place of meeting, and that he -would allow his eyes to be bandaged, swearing that he would -not endeavor to take off the bandage. General de Quesnel -accepted the condition, and promised on his honor not to -seek to discover the road they took. The general's carriage -was ready, but the president told him it was impossible for -him to use it, since it was useless to blindfold the master -if the coachman knew through what streets he went. "What -must be done then?" asked the general. "I have my -carriage here," said the president. -"""Have you, then, so much confidence in your servant that -you can intrust him with a secret you will not allow me to -know?" -"""Our coachman is a member of the club," said the -president "we shall be driven by a StateCouncillor." -"""Then we run another risk," said the general, laughing, -"that of being upset." We insert this joke to prove that the -general was not in the least compelled to attend the -meeting, but that he came willingly. When they were seated -in the carriage the president reminded the general of his -promise to allow his eyes to be bandaged, to which he made -no opposition. On the road the president thought he saw the -general make an attempt to remove the handkerchief, and -reminded him of his oath. "Sure enough," said the general. -The carriage stopped at an alley leading out of the Rue -SaintJacques. The general alighted, leaning on the arm of -the president, of whose dignity he was not aware, -considering him simply as a member of the club they went -through the alley, mounted a flight of stairs, and entered -the assemblyroom. -"""The deliberations had already begun. The members, -apprised of the sort of presentation which was to be made -that evening, were all in attendance. When in the middle of -the room the general was invited to remove his bandage, he -did so immediately, and was surprised to see so many -wellknown faces in a society of whose existence he had till -then been ignorant. They questioned him as to his -sentiments, but he contented himself with answering, that -the letters from the Island of Elba ought to have informed -them'" -Franz interrupted himself by saying, "My father was a -royalist they need not have asked his sentiments, which -were well known." -"And hence," said Villefort, "arose my affection for your -father, my dear M. Franz. Opinions held in common are a -ready bond of union." -"Read again," said the old man. Franz continued -""The president then sought to make him speak more -explicitly, but M. de Quesnel replied that he wished first -to know what they wanted with him. He was then informed of -the contents of the letter from the Island of Elba, in which -he was recommended to the club as a man who would be likely -to advance the interests of their party. One paragraph spoke -of the return of Bonaparte and promised another letter and -further details, on the arrival of the Pharaon belonging to -the shipbuilder Morrel, of Marseilles, whose captain was -entirely devoted to the emperor. During all this time, the -general, on whom they thought to have relied as on a -brother, manifested evidently signs of discontent and -repugnance. When the reading was finished, he remained -silent, with knitted brows. -"""Well," asked the president, "what do you say to this -letter, general?" -"""I say that it is too soon after declaring myself for -Louis XVIII. to break my vow in behalf of the exemperor." -This answer was too clear to permit of any mistake as to his -sentiments. "General," said the president, "we acknowledge -no King Louis XVIII., or an exemperor, but his majesty the -emperor and king, driven from France, which is his kingdom, -by violence and treason." -"""Excuse me, gentlemen," said the general "you may not -acknowledge Louis XVIII., but I do, as he has made me a -baron and a fieldmarshal, and I shall never forget that for -these two titles I am indebted to his happy return to -France." -"""Sir," said the president, rising with gravity, "be -careful what you say your words clearly show us that they -are deceived concerning you in the Island of Elba, and have -deceived us The communication has been made to you in -consequence of the confidence placed in you, and which does -you honor. Now we discover our error a title and promotion -attach you to the government we wish to overturn. We will -not constrain you to help us we enroll no one against his -conscience, but we will compel you to act generously, even -if you are not disposed to do so." -"""You would call acting generously, knowing your conspiracy -and not informing against you, that is what I should call -becoming your accomplice. You see I am more candid than -you."'" -"Ah, my father" said Franz, interrupting himself. "I -understand now why they murdered him." Valentine could not -help casting one glance towards the young man, whose filial -enthusiasm it was delightful to behold. Villefort walked to -and fro behind them. Noirtier watched the expression of each -one, and preserved his dignified and commanding attitude. -Franz returned to the manuscript, and continued -"""Sir," said the president, "you have been invited to join -this assembly you were not forced here it was proposed -to you to come blindfolded you accepted. When you -complied with this twofold request you well knew we did not -wish to secure the throne of Louis XVIII., or we should not -take so much care to avoid the vigilance of the police. It -would be conceding too much to allow you to put on a mask to -aid you in the discovery of our secret, and then to remove -it that you may ruin those who have confided in you. No, no, -you must first say if you declare yourself for the king of a -day who now reigns, or for his majesty the emperor." -"""I am a royalist," replied the general "I have taken the -oath of allegiance to Louis XVIII., and I will adhere to -it." These words were followed by a general murmur, and it -was evident that several of the members were discussing the -propriety of making the general repent of his rashness. -""The president again arose, and having imposed silence, -said, "Sir, you are too serious and too sensible a man -not to understand the consequences of our present situation, -and your candor has already dictated to us the conditions -which remain for us to offer you." The general, putting his -hand on his sword, exclaimed, "If you talk of honor, do -not begin by disavowing its laws, and impose nothing by -violence." -"""And you, sir," continued the president, with a calmness -still more terrible than the general's anger, "I advise you -not to touch your sword." The general looked around him with -slight uneasiness however he did not yield, but calling up -all his fortitude, said, "I will not swear." -"""Then you must die," replied the president calmly. M. -d'Epinay became very pale he looked round him a second -time, several members of the club were whispering, and -getting their arms from under their cloaks. "General," said -the president, "do not alarm yourself you are among men of -honor who will use every means to convince you before -resorting to the last extremity, but as you have said, you -are among conspirators, you are in possession of our secret, -and you must restore it to us." A significant silence -followed these words, and as the general did not reply, -"Close the doors," said the president to the doorkeeper. -""The same deadly silence succeeded these words. Then the -general advanced, and making a violent effort to control his -feelings, "I have a son," said he, "and I ought to think -of him, finding myself among assassins." -"""General," said the chief of the assembly, "one man may -insult fifty it is the privilege of weakness. But he does -wrong to use his privilege. Follow my advice, swear, and do -not insult." The general, again daunted by the superiority -of the chief, hesitated a moment then advancing to the -president's desk, "What is the form, said he. -"""It is this "I swear by my honor not to reveal to any -one what I have seen and heard on the th of February, , -between nine and ten o'clock in the evening and I plead -guilty of death should I ever violate this oath.'" The -general appeared to be affected by a nervous tremor, which -prevented his answering for some moments then, overcoming -his manifest repugnance, he pronounced the required oath, -but in so low a tone as to be scarcely audible to the -majority of the members, who insisted on his repeating it -clearly and distinctly, which he did. -"""Now am I at liberty to retire?" said the general. The -president rose, appointed three members to accompany him, -and got into the carriage with the general after bandaging -his eyes. One of those three members was the coachman who -had driven them there. The other members silently dispersed. -"Where do you wish to be taken?" asked the president. -"Anywhere out of your presence," replied M. d'Epinay. -"Beware, sir," replied the president, "you are no longer in -the assembly, and have only to do with individuals do not -insult them unless you wish to be held responsible." But -instead of listening, M. d'Epinay went on, "You are still -as brave in your carriage as in your assembly because you -are still four against one." The president stopped the -coach. They were at that part of the Quai des Ormes where -the steps lead down to the river. "Why do you stop here?" -asked d'Epinay. -"""Because, sir," said the president, "you have insulted a -man, and that man will not go one step farther without -demanding honorable reparation." -"""Another method of assassination?" said the general, -shrugging his shoulders. -"""Make no noise, sir, unless you wish me to consider you as -one of the men of whom you spoke just now as cowards, who -take their weakness for a shield. You are alone, one alone -shall answer you you have a sword by your side, I have one -in my cane you have no witness, one of these gentlemen will -serve you. Now, if you please, remove your bandage." The -general tore the handkerchief from his eyes. "At last," said -he, "I shall know with whom I have to do." They opened the -door and the four men alighted.'" -Franz again interrupted himself, and wiped the cold drops -from his brow there was something awful in hearing the son -read aloud in trembling pallor these details of his father's -death, which had hitherto been a mystery. Valentine clasped -her hands as if in prayer. Noirtier looked at Villefort with -an almost sublime expression of contempt and pride. Franz -continued -""It was, as we said, the fifth of February. For three days -the mercury had been five or six degrees below freezing and -the steps were covered with ice. The general was stout and -tall, the president offered him the side of the railing to -assist him in getting down. The two witnesses followed. It -was a dark night. The ground from the steps to the river was -covered with snow and hoarfrost, the water of the river -looked black and deep. One of the seconds went for a lantern -in a coalbarge near, and by its light they examined the -weapons. The president's sword, which was simply, as he had -said, one he carried in his cane, was five inches shorter -than the general's, and had no guard. The general proposed -to cast lots for the swords, but the president said it was -he who had given the provocation, and when he had given it -he had supposed each would use his own arms. The witnesses -endeavored to insist, but the president bade them be silent. -The lantern was placed on the ground, the two adversaries -took their stations, and the duel began. The light made the -two swords appear like flashes of lightning as for the men, -they were scarcely perceptible, the darkness was so great. -""General d'Epinay passed for one of the best swordsmen in -the army, but he was pressed so closely in the onset that he -missed his aim and fell. The witnesses thought he was dead, -but his adversary, who knew he had not struck him, offered -him the assistance of his hand to rise. The circumstance -irritated instead of calming the general, and he rushed on -his adversary. But his opponent did not allow his guard to -be broken. He received him on his sword and three times the -general drew back on finding himself too closely engaged, -and then returned to the charge. At the third he fell again. -They thought he slipped, as at first, and the witnesses, -seeing he did not move, approached and endeavored to raise -him, but the one who passed his arm around the body found it -was moistened with blood. The general, who had almost -fainted, revived. "Ah," said he, "they have sent some -fencingmaster to fight with me." The president, without -answering, approached the witness who held the lantern, and -raising his sleeve, showed him two wounds he had received in -his arm then opening his coat, and unbuttoning his -waistcoat, displayed his side, pierced with a third wound. -Still he had not even uttered a sigh. General d'Epinay died -five minutes after.'" -Franz read these last words in a voice so choked that they -were hardly audible, and then stopped, passing his hand over -his eyes as if to dispel a cloud but after a moment's -silence, he continued -""The president went up the steps, after pushing his sword -into his cane a track of blood on the snow marked his -course. He had scarcely arrived at the top when he heard a -heavy splash in the water it was the general's body, -which the witnesses had just thrown into the river after -ascertaining that he was dead. The general fell, then, in a -loyal duel, and not in ambush as it might have been -reported. In proof of this we have signed this paper to -establish the truth of the facts, lest the moment should -arrive when either of the actors in this terrible scene -should be accused of premeditated murder or of infringement -of the laws of honor. -""Signed, Beaurepaire, Deschamps, and Lecharpal.'" -When Franz had finished reading this account, so dreadful -for a son when Valentine, pale with emotion, had wiped away -a tear when Villefort, trembling, and crouched in a corner, -had endeavored to lessen the storm by supplicating glances -at the implacable old man, "Sir," said d'Epinay to -Noirtier, "since you are well acquainted with all these -details, which are attested by honorable signatures, -since you appear to take some interest in me, although you -have only manifested it hitherto by causing me sorrow, -refuse me not one final satisfaction tell me the name of -the president of the club, that I may at least know who -killed my father." Villefort mechanically felt for the -handle of the door Valentine, who understood sooner than -anyone her grandfather's answer, and who had often seen two -scars upon his right arm, drew back a few steps. -"Mademoiselle," said Franz, turning towards Valentine, -"unite your efforts with mine to find out the name of the -man who made me an orphan at two years of age." Valentine -remained dumb and motionless. -"Hold, sir," said Villefort, "do not prolong this dreadful -scene. The names have been purposely concealed my father -himself does not know who this president was, and if he -knows, he cannot tell you proper names are not in the -dictionary." -"Oh, misery," cried Franz "the only hope which sustained me -and enabled me to read to the end was that of knowing, at -least, the name of him who killed my father Sir, sir," -cried he, turning to Noirtier, "do what you can make me -understand in some way" -"Yes," replied Noirtier. -"Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle" cried Franz, "your -grandfather says he can indicate the person. Help me, -lend me your assistance" Noirtier looked at the dictionary. -Franz took it with a nervous trembling, and repeated the -letters of the alphabet successively, until he came to M. At -that letter the old man signified "Yes." -"M," repeated Franz. The young man's finger, glided over the -words, but at each one Noirtier answered by a negative sign. -Valentine hid her head between her hands. At length, Franz -arrived at the word MYSELF. -"Yes" -"You?" cried Franz, whose hair stood on end "you, M. -Noirtier you killed my father?" -"Yes" replied Noirtier, fixing a majestic look on the young -man. Franz fell powerless on a chair Villefort opened the -door and escaped, for the idea had entered his mind to -stifle the little remaining life in the heart of this -terrible old man. -Chapter -Progress of Cavalcanti the Younger. -Meanwhile M. Cavalcanti the elder had returned to his -service, not in the army of his majesty the Emperor of -Austria, but at the gamingtable of the baths of Lucca, of -which he was one of the most assiduous courtiers. He had -spent every farthing that had been allowed for his journey -as a reward for the majestic and solemn manner in which he -had maintained his assumed character of father. M. Andrea at -his departure inherited all the papers which proved that he -had indeed the honor of being the son of the Marquis -Bartolomeo and the Marchioness Oliva Corsinari. He was now -fairly launched in that Parisian society which gives such -ready access to foreigners, and treats them, not as they -really are, but as they wish to be considered. Besides, what -is required of a young man in Paris? To speak its language -tolerably, to make a good appearance, to be a good gamester, -and to pay in cash. They are certainly less particular with -a foreigner than with a Frenchman. Andrea had, then, in a -fortnight, attained a very fair position. He was called -count, he was said to possess , livres per annum and -his father's immense riches, buried in the quarries of -Saravezza, were a constant theme. A learned man, before whom -the last circumstance was mentioned as a fact, declared he -had seen the quarries in question, which gave great weight -to assertions hitherto somewhat doubtful, but which now -assumed the garb of reality. -Such was the state of society in Paris at the period we -bring before our readers, when Monte Cristo went one evening -to pay M. Danglars a visit. M. Danglars was out, but the -count was asked to go and see the baroness, and he accepted -the invitation. It was never without a nervous shudder, -since the dinner at Auteuil, and the events which followed -it, that Madame Danglars heard Monte Cristo's name -announced. If he did not come, the painful sensation became -most intense if, on the contrary, he appeared, his noble -countenance, his brilliant eyes, his amiability, his polite -attention even towards Madame Danglars, soon dispelled every -impression of fear. It appeared impossible to the baroness -that a man of such delightfully pleasing manners should -entertain evil designs against her besides, the most -corrupt minds only suspect evil when it would answer some -interested end useless injury is repugnant to every mind. -When Monte Cristo entered the boudoir, to which we have -already once introduced our readers, and where the baroness -was examining some drawings, which her daughter passed to -her after having looked at them with M. Cavalcanti, his -presence soon produced its usual effect, and it was with -smiles that the baroness received the count, although she -had been a little disconcerted at the announcement of his -name. The latter took in the whole scene at a glance. -The baroness was partially reclining on a sofa, Eugenie sat -near her, and Cavalcanti was standing. Cavalcanti, dressed -in black, like one of Goethe's heroes, with varnished shoes -and white silk openworked stockings, passed a white and -tolerably nicelooking hand through his light hair, and so -displayed a sparkling diamond, that in spite of Monte -Cristo's advice the vain young man had been unable to resist -putting on his little finger. This movement was accompanied -by killing glances at Mademoiselle Danglars, and by sighs -launched in the same direction. Mademoiselle Danglars was -still the same cold, beautiful, and satirical. Not one of -these glances, nor one sigh, was lost on her they might -have been said to fall on the shield of Minerva, which some -philosophers assert protected sometimes the breast of -Sappho. Eugenie bowed coldly to the count, and availed -herself of the first moment when the conversation became -earnest to escape to her study, whence very soon two -cheerful and noisy voices being heard in connection with -occasional notes of the piano assured Monte Cristo that -Mademoiselle Danglars preferred to his society and to that -of M. Cavalcanti the company of Mademoiselle Louise -d'Armilly, her singing teacher. -It was then, especially while conversing with Madame -Danglars, and apparently absorbed by the charm of the -conversation, that the count noticed M. Andrea Cavalcanti's -solicitude, his manner of listening to the music at the door -he dared not pass, and of manifesting his admiration. The -banker soon returned. His first look was certainly directed -towards Monte Cristo, but the second was for Andrea. As for -his wife, he bowed to her, as some husbands do to their -wives, but in a way that bachelors will never comprehend, -until a very extensive code is published on conjugal life. -"Have not the ladies invited you to join them at the piano?" -said Danglars to Andrea. "Alas, no, sir," replied Andrea -with a sigh, still more remarkable than the former ones. -Danglars immediately advanced towards the door and opened -it. -The two young ladies were seen seated on the same chair, at -the piano, accompanying themselves, each with one hand, a -fancy to which they had accustomed themselves, and performed -admirably. Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whom they then perceived -through the open doorway, formed with Eugenie one of the -tableaux vivants of which the Germans are so fond. She was -somewhat beautiful, and exquisitely formed a little -fairylike figure, with large curls falling on her neck, -which was rather too long, as Perugino sometimes makes his -Virgins, and her eyes dull from fatigue. She was said to -have a weak chest, and like Antonia in the "Cremona Violin," -she would die one day while singing. Monte Cristo cast one -rapid and curious glance round this sanctum it was the -first time he had ever seen Mademoiselle d'Armilly, of whom -he had heard much. "Well," said the banker to his daughter, -"are we then all to be excluded?" He then led the young man -into the study, and either by chance or manoeuvre the door -was partially closed after Andrea, so that from the place -where they sat neither the Count nor the baroness could see -anything but as the banker had accompanied Andrea, Madame -Danglars appeared to take no notice of it. -The count soon heard Andrea's voice, singing a Corsican -song, accompanied by the piano. While the count smiled at -hearing this song, which made him lose sight of Andrea in -the recollection of Benedetto, Madame Danglars was boasting -to Monte Cristo of her husband's strength of mind, who that -very morning had lost three or four hundred thousand francs -by a failure at Milan. The praise was well deserved, for had -not the count heard it from the baroness, or by one of those -means by which he knew everything, the baron's countenance -would not have led him to suspect it. "Hem," thought Monte -Cristo, "he begins to conceal his losses a month since he -boasted of them." Then aloud, "Oh, madame, M. Danglars is -so skilful, he will soon regain at the Bourse what he loses -elsewhere." -"I see that you participate in a prevalent error," said -Madame Danglars. "What is it?" said Monte Cristo. -"That M. Danglars speculates, whereas he never does." -"Truly, madame, I recollect M. Debray told me apropos, -what is become of him? I have seen nothing of him the last -three or four days." -"Nor I," said Madame Danglars "but you began a sentence, -sir, and did not finish." -"Which?" -"M. Debray had told you" -"Ah, yes he told me it was you who sacrificed to the demon -of speculation." -"I was once very fond of it, but I do not indulge now." -"Then you are wrong, madame. Fortune is precarious and if I -were a woman and fate had made me a banker's wife, whatever -might be my confidence in my husband's good fortune, still -in speculation you know there is great risk. Well, I would -secure for myself a fortune independent of him, even if I -acquired it by placing my interests in hands unknown to -him." Madame Danglars blushed, in spite of all her efforts. -"Stay," said Monte Cristo, as though he had not observed her -confusion, "I have heard of a lucky hit that was made -yesterday on the Neapolitan bonds." -"I have none nor have I ever possessed any but really we -have talked long enough of money, count, we are like two -stockbrokers have you heard how fate is persecuting the -poor Villeforts?" -"What has happened?" said the count, simulating total -ignorance. -"You know the Marquis of SaintMeran died a few days after -he had set out on his journey to Paris, and the marchioness -a few days after her arrival?" -"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I have heard that but, as -Claudius said to Hamlet, "it is a law of nature their -fathers died before them, and they mourned their loss they -will die before their children, who will, in their turn, -grieve for them.'" -"But that is not all." -"Not all" -"No they were going to marry their daughter" -"To M. Franz d'Epinay. Is it broken off?" -"Yesterday morning, it appears, Franz declined the honor." -"Indeed? And is the reason known?" -"No." -"How extraordinary And how does M. de Villefort bear it?" -"As usual. Like a philosopher." Danglars returned at this -moment alone. "Well," said the baroness, "do you leave M. -Cavalcanti with your daughter?" -"And Mademoiselle d'Armilly," said the banker "do you -consider her no one?" Then, turning to Monte Cristo, he -said, "Prince Cavalcanti is a charming young man, is he not? -But is he really a prince?" -"I will not answer for it," said Monte Cristo. "His father -was introduced to me as a marquis, so he ought to be a -count but I do not think he has much claim to that title." -"Why?" said the banker. "If he is a prince, he is wrong not -to maintain his rank I do not like any one to deny his -origin." -"Oh, you are a thorough democrat," said Monte Cristo, -smiling. -"But do you see to what you are exposing yourself?" said the -baroness. "If, perchance, M. de Morcerf came, he would find -M. Cavalcanti in that room, where he, the betrothed of -Eugenie, has never been admitted." -"You may well say, perchance," replied the banker "for he -comes so seldom, it would seem only chance that brings him." -"But should he come and find that young man with your -daughter, he might be displeased." -"He? You are mistaken. M. Albert would not do us the honor -to be jealous he does not like Eugenie sufficiently. -Besides, I care not for his displeasure." -"Still, situated as we are" -"Yes, do you know how we are situated? At his mother's ball -he danced once with Eugenie, and M. Cavalcanti three times, -and he took no notice of it." The valet announced the -Vicomte Albert de Morcerf. The baroness rose hastily, and -was going into the study, when Danglars stopped her. "Let -her alone," said he. She looked at him in amazement. Monte -Cristo appeared to be unconscious of what passed. Albert -entered, looking very handsome and in high spirits. He bowed -politely to the baroness, familiarly to Danglars, and -affectionately to Monte Cristo. Then turning to the -baroness "May I ask how Mademoiselle Danglars is?" said he. -"She is quite well," replied Danglars quickly "she is at -the piano with M. Cavalcanti." Albert retained his calm and -indifferent manner he might feel perhaps annoyed, but he -knew Monte Cristo's eye was on him. "M. Cavalcanti has a -fine tenor voice," said he, "and Mademoiselle Eugenie a -splendid soprano, and then she plays the piano like -Thalberg. The concert must be a delightful one." -"They suit each other remarkably well," said Danglars. -Albert appeared not to notice this remark, which was, -however, so rude that Madame Danglars blushed. -"I, too," said the young man, "am a musician at least, my -masters used to tell me so but it is strange that my voice -never would suit any other, and a soprano less than any." -Danglars smiled, and seemed to say, "It is of no -consequence." Then, hoping doubtless to effect his purpose, -he said, "The prince and my daughter were universally -admired yesterday. You were not of the party, M. de -Morcerf?" -"What prince?" asked Albert. "Prince Cavalcanti," said -Danglars, who persisted in giving the young man that title. -"Pardon me," said Albert, "I was not aware that he was a -prince. And Prince Cavalcanti sang with Mademoiselle Eugenie -yesterday? It must have been charming, indeed. I regret not -having heard them. But I was unable to accept your -invitation, having promised to accompany my mother to a -German concert given by the Baroness of ChateauRenaud." -This was followed by rather an awkward silence. "May I also -be allowed," said Morcerf, "to pay my respects to -Mademoiselle Danglars?" "Wait a moment," said the banker, -stopping the young man "do you hear that delightful -cavatina? Ta, ta, ta, ti, ta, ti, ta, ta it is charming, -let them finish one moment. Bravo, bravi, brava" The -banker was enthusiastic in his applause. -"Indeed," said Albert, "it is exquisite it is impossible to -understand the music of his country better than Prince -Cavalcanti does. You said prince, did you not? But he can -easily become one, if he is not already it is no uncommon -thing in Italy. But to return to the charming musicians -you should give us a treat, Danglars, without telling them -there is a stranger. Ask them to sing one more song it is -so delightful to hear music in the distance, when the -musicians are unrestrained by observation." -Danglars was quite annoyed by the young man's indifference. -He took Monte Cristo aside. "What do you think of our -lover?" said he. -"He appears cool. But, then your word is given." -"Yes, doubtless I have promised to give my daughter to a man -who loves her, but not to one who does not. See him there, -cold as marble and proud like his father. If he were rich, -if he had Cavalcanti's fortune, that might be pardoned. Ma -foi, I haven't consulted my daughter but if she has good -taste" -"Oh," said Monte Cristo, "my fondness may blind me, but I -assure you I consider Morcerf a charming young man who will -render your daughter happy and will sooner or later attain a -certain amount of distinction, and his father's position is -good." -"Hem," said Danglars. -"Why do you doubt?" -"The past that obscurity on the past." -"But that does not affect the son." -"Very true." -"Now, I beg of you, don't go off your head. It's a month now -that you have been thinking of this marriage, and you must -see that it throws some responsibility on me, for it was at -my house you met this young Cavalcanti, whom I do not really -know at all." -"But I do." -"Have you made inquiry?" -"Is there any need of that Does not his appearance speak -for him? And he is very rich." -"I am not so sure of that." -"And yet you said he had money." -"Fifty thousand livres a mere trifle." -"He is well educated." -"Hem," said Monte Cristo in his turn. -"He is a musician." -"So are all Italians." -"Come, count, you do not do that young man justice." -"Well, I acknowledge it annoys me, knowing your connection -with the Morcerf family, to see him throw himself in the -way." Danglars burst out laughing. "What a Puritan you are" -said he "that happens every day." -"But you cannot break it off in this way the Morcerfs are -depending on this union." -"Indeed." -"Positively." -"Then let them explain themselves you should give the -father a hint, you are so intimate with the family." -"I? where the devil did you find out that?" -"At their ball it was apparent enough. Why, did not the -countess, the proud Mercedes, the disdainful Catalane, who -will scarcely open her lips to her oldest acquaintances, -take your arm, lead you into the garden, into the private -walks, and remain there for half an hour?" -"Ah, baron, baron," said Albert, "you are not listening -what barbarism in a megalomaniac like you" -"Oh, don't worry about me, Sir Mocker," said Danglars then -turning to the count he said, "but will you undertake to -speak to the father?" -"Willingly, if you wish it." -"But let it be done explicitly and positively. If he demands -my daughter let him fix the day declare his conditions -in short, let us either understand each other, or quarrel. -You understand no more delay." -"Yes. sir, I will give my attention to the subject." -"I do not say that I await with pleasure his decision, but I -do await it. A banker must, you know, be a slave to his -promise." And Danglars sighed as M. Cavalcanti had done half -an hour before. "Bravi, bravo, brava" cried Morcerf, -parodying the banker, as the selection came to an end. -Danglars began to look suspiciously at Morcerf, when some -one came and whispered a few words to him. "I shall soon -return," said the banker to Monte Cristo "wait for me. I -shall, perhaps, have something to say to you." And he went -out. -The baroness took advantage of her husband's absence to push -open the door of her daughter's study, and M. Andrea, who -was sitting before the piano with Mademoiselle Eugenie, -started up like a jackinthebox. Albert bowed with a smile -to Mademoiselle Danglars, who did not appear in the least -disturbed, and returned his bow with her usual coolness. -Cavalcanti was evidently embarrassed he bowed to Morcerf, -who replied with the most impertinent look possible. Then -Albert launched out in praise of Mademoiselle Danglars' -voice, and on his regret, after what he had just heard, that -he had been unable to be present the previous evening. -Cavalcanti, being left alone, turned to Monte Cristo. -"Come," said Madame Danglars, "leave music and compliments, -and let us go and take tea." -"Come, Louise," said Mademoiselle Danglars to her friend. -They passed into the next drawingroom, where tea was -prepared. Just as they were beginning, in the English -fashion, to leave the spoons in their cups, the door again -opened and Danglars entered, visibly agitated. Monte Cristo -observed it particularly, and by a look asked the banker for -an explanation. "I have just received my courier from -Greece," said Danglars. -"Ah, yes," said the count "that was the reason of your -running away from us." -"Yes." -"How is King Otho getting on?" asked Albert in the most -sprightly tone. Danglars cast another suspicious look -towards him without answering, and Monte Cristo turned away -to conceal the expression of pity which passed over his -features, but which was gone in a moment. "We shall go -together, shall we not?" said Albert to the count. -"If you like," replied the latter. Albert could not -understand the banker's look, and turning to Monte Cristo, -who understood it perfectly, "Did you see," said he, "how -he looked at me?" -"Yes," said the count "but did you think there was anything -particular in his look?" -"Indeed, I did and what does he mean by his news from -Greece?" -"How can I tell you?" -"Because I imagine you have correspondents in that country." -Monte Cristo smiled significantly. -"Stop," said Albert, "here he comes. I shall compliment -Mademoiselle Danglars on her cameo, while the father talks -to you." -"If you compliment her at all, let it be on her voice, at -least," said Monte Cristo. -"No, every one would do that." -"My dear viscount, you are dreadfully impertinent." Albert -advanced towards Eugenie, smiling. Meanwhile, Danglars, -stooping to Monte Cristo's ear, "Your advice was excellent," -said he "there is a whole history connected with the names -Fernand and Yanina." -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo. -"Yes, I will tell you all but take away the young man I -cannot endure his presence." -"He is going with me. Shall I send the father to you?" -"Immediately." -"Very well." The count made a sign to Albert and they bowed -to the ladies, and took their leave, Albert perfectly -indifferent to Mademoiselle Danglars' contempt, Monte Cristo -reiterating his advice to Madame Danglars on the prudence a -banker's wife should exercise in providing for the future. -M. Cavalcanti remained master of the field. -Chapter -Haidee. -Scarcely had the count's horses cleared the angle of the -boulevard, than Albert, turning towards the count, burst -into a loud fit of laughter much too loud in fact not to -give the idea of its being rather forced and unnatural. -"Well," said he, "I will ask you the same question which -Charles IX. put to Catherine de Medicis, after the massacre -of Saint Bartholomew, "How have I played my little part?'" -"To what do you allude?" asked Monte Cristo. -"To the installation of my rival at M. Danglars'." -"What rival?" -"Ma foi, what rival? Why, your protege, M. Andrea -Cavalcanti" -"Ah, no joking, viscount, if you please I do not patronize -M. Andrea at least, not as concerns M. Danglars." -"And you would be to blame for not assisting him, if the -young man really needed your help in that quarter, but, -happily for me, he can dispense with it." -"What, do you think he is paying his addresses?" -"I am certain of it his languishing looks and modulated -tones when addressing Mademoiselle Danglars fully proclaim -his intentions. He aspires to the hand of the proud -Eugenie." -"What does that signify, so long as they favor your suit?" -"But it is not the case, my dear count on the contrary. I -am repulsed on all sides." -"What" -"It is so indeed Mademoiselle Eugenie scarcely answers me, -and Mademoiselle d'Armilly, her confidant, does not speak to -me at all." -"But the father has the greatest regard possible for you," -said Monte Cristo. -"He? Oh, no, he has plunged a thousand daggers into my -heart, tragedyweapons, I own, which instead of wounding -sheathe their points in their own handles, but daggers which -he nevertheless believed to be real and deadly." -"Jealousy indicates affection." -"True but I am not jealous." -"He is." -"Of whom? of Debray?" -"No, of you." -"Of me? I will engage to say that before a week is past the -door will be closed against me." -"You are mistaken, my dear viscount." -"Prove it to me." -"Do you wish me to do so?" -"Yes." -"Well, I am charged with the commission of endeavoring to -induce the Comte de Morcerf to make some definite -arrangement with the baron." -"By whom are you charged?" -"By the baron himself." -"Oh," said Albert with all the cajolery of which he was -capable. "You surely will not do that, my dear count?" -"Certainly I shall, Albert, as I have promised to do it." -"Well," said Albert, with a sigh, "it seems you are -determined to marry me." -"I am determined to try and be on good terms with everybody, -at all events," said Monte Cristo. "But apropos of Debray, -how is it that I have not seen him lately at the baron's -house?" -"There has been a misunderstanding." -"What, with the baroness?" -"No, with the baron." -"Has he perceived anything?" -"Ah, that is a good joke" -"Do you think he suspects?" said Monte Cristo with charming -artlessness. -"Where have you come from, my dear count?" said Albert. -"From Congo, if you will." -"It must be farther off than even that." -"But what do I know of your Parisian husbands?" -"Oh, my dear count, husbands are pretty much the same -everywhere an individual husband of any country is a pretty -fair specimen of the whole race." -"But then, what can have led to the quarrel between Danglars -and Debray? They seemed to understand each other so well," -said Monte Cristo with renewed energy. -"Ah, now you are trying to penetrate into the mysteries of -Isis, in which I am not initiated. When M. Andrea Cavalcanti -has become one of the family, you can ask him that -question." The carriage stopped. "Here we are," said Monte -Cristo "it is only halfpast ten o'clock, come in." -"Certainly I will." -"My carriage shall take you back." -"No, thank you I gave orders for my coupe to follow me." -"There it is, then," said Monte Cristo, as he stepped out of -the carriage. They both went into the house the -drawingroom was lighted up they went in there. "You will -make tea for us, Baptistin," said the count. Baptistin left -the room without waiting to answer, and in two seconds -reappeared, bringing on a waiter all that his master had -ordered, ready prepared, and appearing to have sprung from -the ground, like the repasts which we read of in fairy -tales. "Really, my dear count," said Morcerf. "what I admire -in you is, not so much your riches, for perhaps there are -people even wealthier than yourself, nor is it only your -wit, for Beaumarchais might have possessed as much, but -it is your manner of being served, without any questions, in -a moment, in a second it is as if they guessed what you -wanted by your manner of ringing, and made a point of -keeping everything you can possibly desire in constant -readiness." -"What you say is perhaps true they know my habits. For -instance, you shall see how do you wish to occupy yourself -during teatime?" -"Ma foi, I should like to smoke." -Monte Cristo took the gong and struck it once. In about the -space of a second a private door opened, and Ali appeared, -bringing two chibouques filled with excellent latakia. "It -is quite wonderful," said Albert. -"Oh no, it is as simple as possible," replied Monte Cristo. -"Ali knows I generally smoke while I am taking my tea or -coffee he has heard that I ordered tea, and he also knows -that I brought you home with me when I summoned him he -naturally guessed the reason of my doing so, and as he comes -from a country where hospitality is especially manifested -through the medium of smoking, he naturally concludes that -we shall smoke in company, and therefore brings two -chibouques instead of one and now the mystery is solved." -"Certainly you give a most commonplace air to your -explanation, but it is not the less true that you Ah, but -what do I hear?" and Morcerf inclined his head towards the -door, through which sounds seemed to issue resembling those -of a guitar. -"Ma foi, my dear viscount, you are fated to hear music this -evening you have only escaped from Mademoiselle Danglars' -piano, to be attacked by Haidee's guzla." -"Haidee what an adorable name Are there, then, really -women who bear the name of Haidee anywhere but in Byron's -poems?" -"Certainly there are. Haidee is a very uncommon name in -France, but is common enough in Albania and Epirus it is as -it you said, for example, Chastity, Modesty, Innocence, -it is a kind of baptismal name, as you Parisians call it." -"Oh, that is charming," said Albert, "how I should like to -hear my countrywomen called Mademoiselle Goodness, -Mademoiselle Silence, Mademoiselle Christian Charity Only -think, then, if Mademoiselle Danglars, instead of being -called ClaireMarieEugenie, had been named Mademoiselle -ChastityModestyInnocence Danglars what a fine effect that -would have produced on the announcement of her marriage" -"Hush," said the count, "do not joke in so loud a tone -Haidee may hear you, perhaps." -"And you think she would be angry?" -"No, certainly not," said the count with a haughty -expression. -"She is very amiable, then, is she not?" said Albert. -"It is not to be called amiability, it is her duty a slave -does not dictate to a master." -"Come you are joking yourself now. Are there any more -slaves to be had who bear this beautiful name?" -"Undoubtedly." -"Really, count, you do nothing, and have nothing like other -people. The slave of the Count of Monte Cristo Why, it is a -rank of itself in France, and from the way in which you -lavish money, it is a place that must be worth a hundred -thousand francs a year." -"A hundred thousand francs The poor girl originally -possessed much more than that she was born to treasures in -comparison with which those recorded in the "Thousand and -One Nights' would seem but poverty." -"She must be a princess then." -"You are right and she is one of the greatest in her -country too." -"I thought so. But how did it happen that such a great -princess became a slave?" -"How was it that Dionysius the Tyrant became a schoolmaster? -The fortune of war, my dear viscount, the caprice of -fortune that is the way in which these things are to be -accounted for." -"And is her name a secret?" -"As regards the generality of mankind it is but not for -you, my dear viscount, who are one of my most intimate -friends, and on whose silence I feel I may rely, if I -consider it necessary to enjoin it may I not do so?" -"Certainly on my word of honor." -"You know the history of the pasha of Yanina, do you not?" -"Of Ali Tepelini? Oh, yes it was in his service that my -father made his fortune." -"True, I had forgotten that." - Ali Pasha, "The Lion," was born at Tepelini, an Albanian -village at the foot of the Klissoura Mountains, in . By -diplomacy and success in arms he became almost supreme ruler -of Albania, Epirus, and adjacent territory. Having aroused -the enmity of the Sultan, he was proscribed and put to death -by treachery in , at the age of eighty. Ed. -"Well, what is Haidee to Ali Tepelini?" -"Merely his daughter." -"What? the daughter of Ali Pasha?" -"Of Ali Pasha and the beautiful Vasiliki." -"And your slave?" -"Ma foi, yes." -"But how did she become so?" -"Why, simply from the circumstance of my having bought her -one day, as I was passing through the market at -Constantinople." -"Wonderful Really, my dear count, you seem to throw a sort -of magic influence over all in which you are concerned when -I listen to you, existence no longer seems reality, but a -waking dream. Now, I am perhaps going to make an imprudent -and thoughtless request, but" -"Say on." -"But, since you go out with Haidee, and sometimes even take -her to the opera" -"Well?" -"I think I may venture to ask you this favor." -"You may venture to ask me anything." -"Well then, my dear count, present me to your princess." -"I will do so but on two conditions." -"I accept them at once." -"The first is, that you will never tell any one that I have -granted the interview." -"Very well," said Albert, extending his hand "I swear I -will not." -"The second is, that you will not tell her that your father -ever served hers." -"I give you my oath that I will not." -"Enough, viscount you will remember those two vows, will -you not? But I know you to be a man of honor." The count -again struck the gong. Ali reappeared. "Tell Haidee," said -he, "that I will take coffee with her, and give her to -understand that I desire permission to present one of my -friends to her." Ali bowed and left the room. "Now, -understand me," said the count, "no direct questions, my -dear Morcerf if you wish to know anything, tell me, and I -will ask her." -"Agreed." Ali reappeared for the third time, and drew back -the tapestried hanging which concealed the door, to signify -to his master and Albert that they were at liberty to pass -on. "Let us go in," said Monte Cristo. -Albert passed his hand through his hair, and curled his -mustache, then, having satisfied himself as to his personal -appearance, followed the count into the room, the latter -having previously resumed his hat and gloves. Ali was -stationed as a kind of advanced guard, and the door was kept -by the three French attendants, commanded by Myrtho. Haidee -was awaiting her visitors in the first room of her -apartments, which was the drawingroom. Her large eyes were -dilated with surprise and expectation, for it was the first -time that any man, except Monte Cristo, had been accorded an -entrance into her presence. She was sitting on a sofa placed -in an angle of the room, with her legs crossed under her in -the Eastern fashion, and seemed to have made for herself, as -it were, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks which -enveloped her. Near her was the instrument on which she had -just been playing it was elegantly fashioned, and worthy of -its mistress. On perceiving Monte Cristo, she arose and -welcomed him with a smile peculiar to herself, expressive at -once of the most implicit obedience and also of the deepest -love. Monte Cristo advanced towards her and extended his -hand, which she as usual raised to her lips. -Albert had proceeded no farther than the door, where he -remained rooted to the spot, being completely fascinated by -the sight of such surpassing beauty, beheld as it was for -the first time, and of which an inhabitant of more northern -climes could form no adequate idea. -"Whom do you bring?" asked the young girl in Romaic, of -Monte Cristo "is it a friend, a brother, a simple -acquaintance, or an enemy." -"A friend," said Monte Cristo in the same language. -"What is his name?" -"Count Albert it is the same man whom I rescued from the -hands of the banditti at Rome." -"In what language would you like me to converse with him?" -Monte Cristo turned to Albert. "Do you know modern Greek," -asked he. -"Alas, no," said Albert "nor even ancient Greek, my dear -count never had Homer or Plato a more unworthy scholar than -myself." -"Then," said Haidee, proving by her remark that she had -quite understood Monte Cristo's question and Albert's -answer, "then I will speak either in French or Italian, if -my lord so wills it." -Monte Cristo reflected one instant. "You will speak in -Italian," said he. Then, turning towards Albert, "It is a -pity you do not understand either ancient or modern Greek, -both of which Haidee speaks so fluently the poor child will -be obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will give you -but a very false idea of her powers of conversation." The -count made a sign to Haidee to address his visitor. "Sir," -she said to Morcerf, "you are most welcome as the friend of -my lord and master." This was said in excellent Tuscan, and -with that soft Roman accent which makes the language of -Dante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turning to Ali, -she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he had -left the room to execute the orders of his young mistress -she beckoned Albert to approach nearer to her. Monte Cristo -and Morcerf drew their seats towards a small table, on which -were arranged music, drawings, and vases of flowers. Ali -then entered bringing coffee and chibouques as to M. -Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted to -him. Albert refused the pipe which the Nubian offered him. -"Oh, take it take it," said the count "Haidee is almost -as civilized as a Parisian the smell of an Havana is -disagreeable to her, but the tobacco of the East is a most -delicious perfume, you know." -Ali left the room. The cups of coffee were all prepared, -with the addition of sugar, which had been brought for -Albert. Monte Cristo and Haidee took the beverage in the -original Arabian manner, that is to say, without sugar. -Haidee took the porcelain cup in her little slender fingers -and conveyed it to her mouth with all the innocent -artlessness of a child when eating or drinking something -which it likes. At this moment two women entered, bringing -salvers filled with ices and sherbet, which they placed on -two small tables appropriated to that purpose. "My dear -host, and you, signora," said Albert, in Italian, "excuse my -apparent stupidity. I am quite bewildered, and it is natural -that it should be so. Here I am in the heart of Paris but a -moment ago I heard the rumbling of the omnibuses and the -tinkling of the bells of the lemonadesellers, and now I -feel as if I were suddenly transported to the East not such -as I have seen it, but such as my dreams have painted it. -Oh, signora, if I could but speak Greek, your conversation, -added to the fairyscene which surrounds me, would furnish -an evening of such delight as it would be impossible for me -ever to forget." -"I speak sufficient Italian to enable me to converse with -you, sir," said Haidee quietly "and if you like what is -Eastern, I will do my best to secure the gratification of -your tastes while you are here." -"On what subject shall I converse with her?" said Albert, in -a low tone to Monte Cristo. -"Just what you please you may speak of her country and of -her youthful reminiscences, or if you like it better you can -talk of Rome, Naples, or Florence." -"Oh," said Albert, "it is of no use to be in the company of -a Greek if one converses just in the same style as with a -Parisian let me speak to her of the East." -"Do so then, for of all themes which you could choose that -will be the most agreeable to her taste." Albert turned -towards Haidee. "At what age did you leave Greece, signora?" -asked he. -"I left it when I was but five years old," replied Haidee. -"And have you any recollection of your country?" -"When I shut my eyes and think, I seem to see it all again. -The mind can see as well as the body. The body forgets -sometimes but the mind never forgets." -"And how far back into the past do your recollections -extend?" -"I could scarcely walk when my mother, who was called -Vasiliki, which means royal," said the young girl, tossing -her head proudly, "took me by the hand, and after putting in -our purse all the money we possessed, we went out, both -covered with veils, to solicit alms for the prisoners, -saying, "He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.' -Then when our purse was full we returned to the palace, and -without saying a word to my father, we sent it to the -convent, where it was divided amongst the prisoners." -"And how old were you at that time?" -"I was three years old," said Haidee. -"Then you remember everything that went on about you from -the time when you were three years old?" said Albert. -"Everything." -"Count," said Albert, in a low tone to Monte Cristo, "do -allow the signora to tell me something of her history. You -prohibited my mentioning my father's name to her, but -perhaps she will allude to him of her own accord in the -course of the recital, and you have no idea how delighted I -should be to hear our name pronounced by such beautiful -lips." Monte Cristo turned to Haidee, and with an expression -of countenance which commanded her to pay the most implicit -attention to his words, he said in Greek, "Tell us the -fate of your father but neither the name of the traitor nor -the treason." Haidee sighed deeply, and a shade of sadness -clouded her beautiful brow. -"What are you saying to her?" said Morcerf in an undertone. -"I again reminded her that you were a friend, and that she -need not conceal anything from you." -"Then," said Albert, "this pious pilgrimage in behalf of the -prisoners was your first remembrance what is the next?" -"Oh, then I remember as if it were but yesterday sitting -under the shade of some sycamoretrees, on the borders of a -lake, in the waters of which the trembling foliage was -reflected as in a mirror. Under the oldest and thickest of -these trees, reclining on cushions, sat my father my mother -was at his feet, and I, childlike, amused myself by playing -with his long white beard which descended to his girdle, or -with the diamondhilt of the scimitar attached to his -girdle. Then from time to time there came to him an Albanian -who said something to which I paid no attention, but which -he always answered in the same tone of voice, either "Kill,' -or "Pardon.'" -"It is very strange," said Albert, "to hear such words -proceed from the mouth of any one but an actress on the -stage, and one needs constantly to be saying to one's self, -"This is no fiction, it is all reality,' in order to believe -it. And how does France appear in your eyes, accustomed as -they have been to gaze on such enchanted scenes?" -"I think it is a fine country," said Haidee, "but I see -France as it really is, because I look on it with the eyes -of a woman whereas my own country, which I can only judge -of from the impression produced on my childish mind, always -seems enveloped in a vague atmosphere, which is luminous or -otherwise, according as my remembrances of it are sad or -joyous." -"So young," said Albert, forgetting at the moment the -Count's command that he should ask no questions of the slave -herself, "is it possible that you can have known what -suffering is except by name?" -Haidee turned her eyes towards Monte Cristo, who, making at -the same time some imperceptible sign, murmured, "Go on." -"Nothing is ever so firmly impressed on the mind as the -memory of our early childhood, and with the exception of the -two scenes I have just described to you, all my earliest -reminiscences are fraught with deepest sadness." -"Speak, speak, signora," said Albert, "I am listening with -the most intense delight and interest to all you say." -Haidee answered his remark with a melancholy smile. "You -wish me, then, to relate the history of my past sorrows?" -said she. -"I beg you to do so," replied Albert. -"Well, I was but four years old when one night I was -suddenly awakened by my mother. We were in the palace of -Yanina she snatched me from the cushions on which I was -sleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hers filled with -tears. She took me away without speaking. When I saw her -weeping I began to cry too. "Hush, child' said she. At -other times in spite of maternal endearments or threats, I -had with a child's caprice been accustomed to indulge my -feelings of sorrow or anger by crying as much as I felt -inclined but on this occasion there was an intonation of -such extreme terror in my mother's voice when she enjoined -me to silence, that I ceased crying as soon as her command -was given. She bore me rapidly away. -"I saw then that we were descending a large staircase -around us were all my mother's servants carrying trunks, -bags, ornaments, jewels, purses of gold, with which they -were hurrying away in the greatest distraction. -"Behind the women came a guard of twenty men armed with long -guns and pistols, and dressed in the costume which the -Greeks have assumed since they have again become a nation. -You may imagine there was something startling and ominous," -said Haidee, shaking her head and turning pale at the mere -remembrance of the scene, "in this long file of slaves and -women only halfaroused from sleep, or at least so they -appeared to me, who was myself scarcely awake. Here and -there on the walls of the staircase, were reflected gigantic -shadows, which trembled in the flickering light of the -pinetorches till they seemed to reach to the vaulted roof -above. -""Quick' said a voice at the end of the gallery. This voice -made every one bow before it, resembling in its effect the -wind passing over a field of wheat, by its superior strength -forcing every ear to yield obeisance. As for me, it made me -tremble. This voice was that of my father. He came last, -clothed in his splendid robes and holding in his hand the -carbine which your emperor presented him. He was leaning on -the shoulder of his favorite Selim, and he drove us all -before him, as a shepherd would his straggling flock. My -father," said Haidee, raising her head, "was that -illustrious man known in Europe under the name of Ali -Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and before whom Turkey trembled." -Albert, without knowing why, started on hearing these words -pronounced with such a haughty and dignified accent it -appeared to him as if there was something supernaturally -gloomy and terrible in the expression which gleamed from the -brilliant eyes of Haidee at this moment she appeared like a -Pythoness evoking a spectre, as she recalled to his mind the -remembrance of the fearful death of this man, to the news of -which all Europe had listened with horror. "Soon," said -Haidee, "we halted on our march, and found ourselves on the -borders of a lake. My mother pressed me to her throbbing -heart, and at the distance of a few paces I saw my father, -who was glancing anxiously around. Four marble steps led -down to the water's edge, and below them was a boat floating -on the tide. -"From where we stood I could see in the middle of the lake a -large blank mass it was the kiosk to which we were going. -This kiosk appeared to me to be at a considerable distance, -perhaps on account of the darkness of the night, which -prevented any object from being more than partially -discerned. We stepped into the boat. I remember well that -the oars made no noise whatever in striking the water, and -when I leaned over to ascertain the cause I saw that they -were muffled with the sashes of our Palikares. Besides the -rowers, the boat contained only the women, my father, -mother, Selim, and myself. The Palikares had remained on the -shore of the lake, ready to cover our retreat they were -kneeling on the lowest of the marble steps, and in that -manner intended making a rampart of the three others, in -case of pursuit. Our bark flew before the wind. "Why does -the boat go so fast?' asked I of my mother. - Greek militiamen in the war for independence. Ed. -""Silence, child Hush, we are flying' I did not -understand. Why should my father fly? he, the -allpowerful he, before whom others were accustomed to -fly he, who had taken for his device, "They hate me then -they fear me' It was, indeed, a flight which my father was -trying to effect. I have been told since that the garrison -of the castle of Yanina, fatigued with long service" -Here Haidee cast a significant glance at Monte Cristo, whose -eyes had been riveted on her countenance during the whole -course of her narrative. The young girl then continued, -speaking slowly, like a person who is either inventing or -suppressing some feature of the history which he is -relating. "You were saying, signora," said Albert, who was -paying the most implicit attention to the recital, "that the -garrison of Yanina, fatigued with long service" -"Had treated with the Serasker Koorshid, who had been sent -by the sultan to gain possession of the person of my father -it was then that Ali Tepelini after having sent to the -sultan a French officer in whom he reposed great confidence -resolved to retire to the asylum which he had long before -prepared for himself, and which he called kataphygion, or -the refuge." -"And this officer," asked Albert, "do you remember his name, -signora?" Monte Cristo exchanged a rapid glance with the -young girl, which was quite unperceived by Albert. "No," -said she, "I do not remember it just at this moment but if -it should occur to me presently, I will tell you." Albert -was on the point of pronouncing his father's name, when -Monte Cristo gently held up his finger in token of reproach -the young man recollected his promise, and was silent. - A Turkish pasha in command of the troops of a province. -Ed. -"It was towards this kiosk that we were rowing. A -groundfloor, ornamented with arabesques, bathing its -terraces in the water, and another floor, looking on the -lake, was all which was visible to the eye. But beneath the -groundfloor, stretching out into the island, was a large -subterranean cavern, to which my mother, myself, and the -women were conducted. In this place were together , -pouches and barrels the pouches contained ,, of -money in gold, and the barrels were filled with , -pounds of gunpowder. -"Near the barrels stood Selim, my father's favorite, whom I -mentioned to you just now. He stood watch day and night with -a lance provided with a lighted slowmatch in his hand, and -he had orders to blow up everything kiosk, guards, women, -gold, and Ali Tepelini himself at the first signal given -by my father. I remember well that the slaves, convinced of -the precarious tenure on which they held their lives, passed -whole days and nights in praying, crying, and groaning. As -for me, I can never forget the pale complexion and black -eyes of the young soldier, and whenever the angel of death -summons me to another world, I am quite sure I shall -recognize Selim. I cannot tell you how long we remained in -this state at that period I did not even know what time -meant. Sometimes, but very rarely, my father summoned me and -my mother to the terrace of the palace these were hours of -recreation for me, as I never saw anything in the dismal -cavern but the gloomy countenances of the slaves and Selim's -fiery lance. My father was endeavoring to pierce with his -eager looks the remotest verge of the horizon, examining -attentively every black speck which appeared on the lake, -while my mother, reclining by his side, rested her head on -his shoulder, and I played at his feet, admiring everything -I saw with that unsophisticated innocence of childhood which -throws a charm round objects insignificant in themselves, -but which in its eyes are invested with the greatest -importance. The heights of Pindus towered above us the -castle of Yanina rose white and angular from the blue waters -of the lake, and the immense masses of black vegetation -which, viewed in the distance, gave the idea of lichens -clinging to the rocks, were in reality gigantic firtrees -and myrtles. -"One morning my father sent for us my mother had been -crying all the night, and was very wretched we found the -pasha calm, but paler than usual. "Take courage, Vasiliki,' -said he "today arrives the firman of the master, and my -fate will be decided. If my pardon be complete, we shall -return triumphant to Yanina if the news be inauspicious, we -must fly this night.' "But supposing our enemy should not -allow us to do so?' said my mother. "Oh, make yourself easy -on that head,' said Ali, smiling "Selim and his flaming -lance will settle that matter. They would be glad to see me -dead, but they would not like themselves to die with me.' -"My mother only answered by sighs to consolations which she -knew did not come from my father's heart. She prepared the -iced water which he was in the habit of constantly drinking, -for since his sojourn at the kiosk he had been parched by -the most violent fever, after which she anointed his -white beard with perfumed oil, and lighted his chibouque, -which he sometimes smoked for hours together, quietly -watching the wreaths of vapor that ascended in spiral clouds -and gradually melted away in the surrounding atmosphere. -Presently he made such a sudden movement that I was -paralyzed with fear. Then, without taking his eyes from the -object which had first attracted his attention, he asked for -his telescope. My mother gave it him, and as she did so, -looked whiter than the marble against which she leaned. I -saw my father's hand tremble. "A boat two three' -murmured my, father "four' He then arose, seizing his -arms and priming his pistols. "Vasiliki,' said he to my -mother, trembling perceptibly, "the instant approaches which -will decide everything. In the space of half an hour we -shall know the emperor's answer. Go into the cavern with -Haidee.' "I will not quit you,' said Vasiliki "if you -die, my lord, I will die with you.' "Go to Selim' cried -my father. "Adieu, my lord,' murmured my mother, determining -quietly to await the approach of death. "Take away -Vasiliki' said my father to his Palikares. -"As for me, I had been forgotten in the general confusion I -ran toward Ali Tepelini he saw me hold out my arms to him, -and he stooped down and pressed my forehead with his lips. -Oh, how distinctly I remember that kiss it was the last -he ever gave me, and I feel as if it were still warm on my -forehead. On descending, we saw through the latticework -several boats which were gradually becoming more distinct to -our view. At first they appeared like black specks, and now -they looked like birds skimming the surface of the waves. -During this time, in the kiosk at my father's feet, were -seated twenty Palikares, concealed from view by an angle of -the wall and watching with eager eyes the arrival of the -boats. They were armed with their long guns inlaid with -motherofpearl and silver, and cartridges in great numbers -were lying scattered on the floor. My father looked at his -watch, and paced up and down with a countenance expressive -of the greatest anguish. This was the scene which presented -itself to my view as I quitted my father after that last -kiss. My mother and I traversed the gloomy passage leading -to the cavern. Selim was still at his post, and smiled sadly -on us as we entered. We fetched our cushions from the other -end of the cavern, and sat down by Selim. In great dangers -the devoted ones cling to each other and, young as I was, I -quite understood that some imminent danger was hanging over -our heads." -Albert had often heard not from his father, for he never -spoke on the subject, but from strangers the description -of the last moments of the vizier of Yanina he had read -different accounts of his death, but the story seemed to -acquire fresh meaning from the voice and expression of the -young girl, and her sympathetic accent and the melancholy -expression of her countenance at once charmed and horrified -him. As to Haidee, these terrible reminiscences seemed to -have overpowered her for a moment, for she ceased speaking, -her head leaning on her hand like a beautiful flower bowing -beneath the violence of the storm and her eyes gazing on -vacancy indicated that she was mentally contemplating the -green summit of the Pindus and the blue waters of the lake -of Yanina, which, like a magic mirror, seemed to reflect the -sombre picture which she sketched. Monte Cristo looked at -her with an indescribable expression of interest and pity. -"Go on," said the count in the Romaic language. -Haidee looked up abruptly, as if the sonorous tones of Monte -Cristo's voice had awakened her from a dream and she -resumed her narrative. "It was about four o'clock in the -afternoon, and although the day was brilliant outofdoors, -we were enveloped in the gloomy darkness of the cavern. One -single, solitary light was burning there, and it appeared -like a star set in a heaven of blackness it was Selim's -flaming lance. My mother was a Christian, and she prayed. -Selim repeated from time to time the sacred words "God is -great' However, my mother had still some hope. As she was -coming down, she thought she recognized the French officer -who had been sent to Constantinople, and in whom my father -placed so much confidence for he knew that all the soldiers -of the French emperor were naturally noble and generous. She -advanced some steps towards the staircase, and listened. -"They are approaching,' said she "perhaps they bring us -peace and liberty' "What do you fear, Vasiliki?' said -Selim, in a voice at once so gentle and yet so proud. "If -they do not bring us peace, we will give them war if they -do not bring life, we will give them death.' And he renewed -the flame of his lance with a gesture which made one think -of Dionysus of Crete. But I, being only a little child, was -terrified by this undaunted courage, which appeared to me -both ferocious and senseless, and I recoiled with horror -from the idea of the frightful death amidst fire and flames -which probably awaited us. - The god of fruitfulness in Grecian mythology. In Crete he -was supposed to be slain in winter with the decay of -vegetation and to revive in the spring. Haidee's learned -reference is to the behavior of an actor in the Dionysian -festivals. Ed. -"My mother experienced the same sensations, for I felt her -tremble. "Mamma, mamma,' said I, "are we really to be -killed?' And at the sound of my voice the slaves redoubled -their cries and prayers and lamentations. "My child,' said -Vasiliki, "may God preserve you from ever wishing for that -death which today you so much dread' Then, whispering to -Selim, she asked what were her master's orders. "If he send -me his poniard, it will signify that the emperor's -intentions are not favorable, and I am to set fire to the -powder if, on the contrary, he send me his ring, it will be -a sign that the emperor pardons him, and I am to extinguish -the match and leave the magazine untouched.' "My friend,' -said my mother, "when your master's orders arrive, if it is -the poniard which he sends, instead of despatching us by -that horrible death which we both so much dread, you will -mercifully kill us with this same poniard, will you not?' -"Yes, Vasiliki,' replied Selim tranquilly. -"Suddenly we heard loud cries and, listening, discerned -that they were cries of joy. The name of the French officer -who had been sent to Constantinople resounded on all sides -amongst our Palikares it was evident that he brought the -answer of the emperor, and that it was favorable." -"And do you not remember the Frenchman's name?" said -Morcerf, quite ready to aid the memory of the narrator. -Monte Cristo made a sign to him to be silent. -"I do not recollect it," said Haidee. -"The noise increased steps were heard approaching nearer -and nearer they were descending the steps leading to the -cavern. Selim made ready his lance. Soon a figure appeared -in the gray twilight at the entrance of the cave, formed by -the reflection of the few rays of daylight which had found -their way into this gloomy retreat. "Who are you?' cried -Selim. "But whoever you may be, I charge you not to advance -another step.' "Long live the emperor' said the figure. -"He grants a full pardon to the Vizier Ali, and not only -gives him his life, but restores to him his fortune and his -possessions.' My mother uttered a cry of joy, and clasped me -to her bosom. "Stop,' said Selim, seeing that she was about -to go out "you see I have not yet received the ring,' -"True,' said my mother. And she fell on her knees, at the -same time holding me up towards heaven, as if she desired, -while praying to God in my behalf, to raise me actually to -his presence." -And for the second time Haidee stopped, overcome by such -violent emotion that the perspiration stood upon her pale -brow, and her stifled voice seemed hardly able to find -utterance, so parched and dry were her throat and lips. -Monte Cristo poured a little iced water into a glass, and -presented it to her, saying with a mildness in which was -also a shade of command, "Courage." -Haidee dried her eyes, and continued "By this time our -eyes, habituated to the darkness, had recognized the -messenger of the pasha, it was a friend. Selim had also -recognized him, but the brave young man only acknowledged -one duty, which was to obey. "In whose name do you come?' -said he to him. "I come in the name of our master, Ali -Tepelini.' "If you come from Ali himself,' said Selim, -"you know what you were charged to remit to me?' "Yes,' -said the messenger, "and I bring you his ring.' At these -words he raised his hand above his head, to show the token -but it was too far off, and there was not light enough to -enable Selim, where he was standing, to distinguish and -recognize the object presented to his view. "I do not see -what you have in your hand,' said Selim. "Approach then,' -said the messenger, "or I will come nearer to you, if you -prefer it.' "I will agree to neither one nor the other,' -replied the young soldier "place the object which I desire -to see in the ray of light which shines there, and retire -while I examine it.' "Be it so,' said the envoy and he -retired, after having first deposited the token agreed on in -the place pointed out to him by Selim. -"Oh, how our hearts palpitated for it did, indeed, seem to -be a ring which was placed there. But was it my father's -ring? that was the question. Selim, still holding in his -hand the lighted match, walked towards the opening in the -cavern, and, aided by the faint light which streamed in -through the mouth of the cave, picked up the token. -""It is well,' said he, kissing it "it is my master's -ring' And throwing the match on the ground, he trampled on -it and extinguished it. The messenger uttered a cry of joy -and clapped his hands. At this signal four soldiers of the -Serasker Koorshid suddenly appeared, and Selim fell, pierced -by five blows. Each man had stabbed him separately, and, -intoxicated by their crime, though still pale with fear, -they sought all over the cavern to discover if there was any -fear of fire, after which they amused themselves by rolling -on the bags of gold. At this moment my mother seized me in -her arms, and hurrying noiselessly along numerous turnings -and windings known only to ourselves, she arrived at a -private staircase of the kiosk, where was a scene of -frightful tumult and confusion. The lower rooms were -entirely filled with Koorshid's troops that is to say, with -our enemies. Just as my mother was on the point of pushing -open a small door, we heard the voice of the pasha sounding -in a loud and threatening tone. My mother applied her eye to -the crack between the boards I luckily found a small -opening which afforded me a view of the apartment and what -was passing within. "What do you want?' said my father to -some people who were holding a paper inscribed with -characters of gold. "What we want,' replied one, "is to -communicate to you the will of his highness. Do you see this -firman?' "I do,' said my father. "Well, read it he -demands your head.' -"My father answered with a loud laugh, which was more -frightful than even threats would have been, and he had not -ceased when two reports of a pistol were heard he had fired -them himself, and had killed two men. The Palikares, who -were prostrated at my father's feet, now sprang up and -fired, and the room was filled with fire and smoke. At the -same instant the firing began on the other side, and the -balls penetrated the boards all round us. Oh, how noble did -the grand vizier my father look at that moment, in the midst -of the flying bullets, his scimitar in his hand, and his -face blackened with the powder of his enemies and how he -terrified them, even then, and made them fly before him -"Selim, Selim' cried he, "guardian of the fire, do your -duty' "Selim is dead,' replied a voice which seemed to -come from the depths of the earth, "and you are lost, Ali' -At the same moment an explosion was heard, and the flooring -of the room in which my father was sitting was suddenly torn -up and shivered to atoms the troops were firing from -underneath. Three or four Palikares fell with their bodies -literally ploughed with wounds. -"My father howled aloud, plunged his fingers into the holes -which the balls had made, and tore up one of the planks -entire. But immediately through this opening twenty more -shots were fired, and the flame, rushing up like fire from -the crater of a volcano, soon reached the tapestry, which it -quickly devoured. In the midst of all this frightful tumult -and these terrific cries, two reports, fearfully distinct, -followed by two shrieks more heartrending than all, froze me -with terror. These two shots had mortally wounded my father, -and it was he who had given utterance to these frightful -cries. However, he remained standing, clinging to a window. -My mother tried to force the door, that she might go and die -with him, but it was fastened on the inside. All around him -were lying the Palikares, writhing in convulsive agonies, -while two or three who were only slightly wounded were -trying to escape by springing from the windows. At this -crisis the whole flooring suddenly gave way, my father fell -on one knee, and at the same moment twenty hands were thrust -forth, armed with sabres, pistols, and poniards twenty -blows were instantaneously directed against one man, and my -father disappeared in a whirlwind of fire and smoke kindled -by these demons, and which seemed like hell itself opening -beneath his feet. I felt myself fall to the ground, my -mother had fainted." -Haidee's arms fell by her side, and she uttered a deep -groan, at the same time looking towards the count as if to -ask if he were satisfied with her obedience to his commands. -Monte Cristo arose and approached her, took her hand, and -said to her in Romaic, "Calm yourself, my dear child, and -take courage in remembering that there is a God who will -punish traitors." -"It is a frightful story, count," said Albert, terrified at -the paleness of Haidee's countenance, "and I reproach myself -now for having been so cruel and thoughtless in my request." -"Oh, it is nothing," said Monte Cristo. Then, patting the -young girl on the head, he continued, "Haidee is very -courageous, and she sometimes even finds consolation in the -recital of her misfortunes." -"Because, my lord," said Haidee eagerly, "my miseries recall -to me the remembrance of your goodness." -Albert looked at her with curiosity, for she had not yet -related what he most desired to know, how she had become -the slave of the count. Haidee saw at a glance the same -expression pervading the countenances of her two auditors -she exclaimed, "When my mother recovered her senses we were -before the serasker. "Kill,' said she, "but spare the honor -of the widow of Ali.' "It is not to me to whom you must -address yourself,' said Koorshid. -""To whom, then?' "To your new master.' -""Who and where is he?' "He is here.' -"And Koorshid pointed out one who had more than any -contributed to the death of my father," said Haidee, in a -tone of chastened anger. "Then," said Albert, "you became -the property of this man?" -"No," replied Haidee, "he did not dare to keep us, so we -were sold to some slavemerchants who were going to -Constantinople. We traversed Greece, and arrived half dead -at the imperial gates. They were surrounded by a crowd of -people, who opened a way for us to pass, when suddenly my -mother, having looked closely at an object which was -attracting their attention, uttered a piercing cry and fell -to the ground, pointing as she did so to a head which was -placed over the gates, and beneath which were inscribed -these words -""This is the head of Ali Tepelini Pasha of Yanina.' I cried -bitterly, and tried to raise my mother from the earth, but -she was dead I was taken to the slavemarket, and was -purchased by a rich Armenian. He caused me to be instructed, -gave me masters, and when I was thirteen years of age he -sold me to the Sultan Mahmood." -"Of whom I bought her," said Monte Cristo, "as I told you, -Albert, with the emerald which formed a match to the one I -had made into a box for the purpose of holding my hashish -pills." -"Oh, you are good, you are great, my lord" said Haidee, -kissing the count's hand, "and I am very fortunate in -belonging to such a master" Albert remained quite -bewildered with all that he had seen and heard. "Come, -finish your cup of coffee," said Monte Cristo "the history -is ended." -Chapter -We hear From Yanina. -If Valentine could have seen the trembling step and agitated -countenance of Franz when he quitted the chamber of M. -Noirtier, even she would have been constrained to pity him. -Villefort had only just given utterance to a few incoherent -sentences, and then retired to his study, where he received -about two hours afterwards the following letter -"After all the disclosures which were made this morning, M. -Noirtier de Villefort must see the utter impossibility of -any alliance being formed between his family and that of M. -Franz d'Epinay. M. d'Epinay must say that he is shocked and -astonished that M. de Villefort, who appeared to be aware of -all the circumstances detailed this morning, should not have -anticipated him in this announcement." -No one who had seen the magistrate at this moment, so -thoroughly unnerved by the recent inauspicious combination -of circumstances, would have supposed for an instant that he -had anticipated the annoyance although it certainly never -had occurred to him that his father would carry candor, or -rather rudeness, so far as to relate such a history. And in -justice to Villefort, it must be understood that M. -Noirtier, who never cared for the opinion of his son on any -subject, had always omitted to explain the affair to -Villefort, so that he had all his life entertained the -belief that General de Quesnel, or the Baron d'Epinay, as he -was alternately styled, according as the speaker wished to -identify him by his own family name, or by the title which -had been conferred on him, fell the victim of assassination, -and not that he was killed fairly in a duel. This harsh -letter, coming as it did from a man generally so polite and -respectful, struck a mortal blow at the pride of Villefort. -Hardly had he read the letter, when his wife entered. The -sudden departure of Franz, after being summoned by M. -Noirtier, had so much astonished every one, that the -position of Madame de Villefort, left alone with the notary -and the witnesses, became every moment more embarrassing. -Determined to bear it no longer, she arose and left the -room saying she would go and make some inquiries into the -cause of his sudden disappearance. -M. de Villefort's communications on the subject were very -limited and concise he told her, in fact, that an -explanation had taken place between M. Noirtier, M. -d'Epinay, and himself, and that the marriage of Valentine -and Franz would consequently be broken off. This was an -awkward and unpleasant thing to have to report to those who -were awaiting her return in the chamber of her -fatherinlaw. She therefore contented herself with saying -that M. Noirtier having at the commencement of the -discussion been attacked by a sort of apoplectic fit, the -affair would necessarily be deferred for some days longer. -This news, false as it was following so singularly in the -train of the two similar misfortunes which had so recently -occurred, evidently astonished the auditors, and they -retired without a word. During this time Valentine, at once -terrified and happy, after having embraced and thanked the -feeble old man for thus breaking with a single blow the -chain which she had been accustomed to consider as -irrefragable, asked leave to retire to her own room, in -order to recover her composure. Noirtier looked the -permission which she solicited. But instead of going to her -own room, Valentine, having once gained her liberty, entered -the gallery, and, opening a small door at the end of it. -found herself at once in the garden. -In the midst of all the strange events which had crowded one -on the other, an indefinable sentiment of dread had taken -possession of Valentine's mind. She expected every moment -that she should see Morrel appear, pale and trembling, to -forbid the signing of the contract, like the Laird of -Ravenswood in "The Bride of Lammermoor." It was high time -for her to make her appearance at the gate, for Maximilian -had long awaited her coming. He had half guessed what was -going on when he saw Franz quit the cemetery with M. de -Villefort. He followed M. d'Epinay, saw him enter, -afterwards go out, and then reenter with Albert and -ChateauRenaud. He had no longer any doubts as to the nature -of the conference he therefore quickly went to the gate in -the cloverpatch, prepared to hear the result of the -proceedings, and very certain that Valentine would hasten to -him the first moment she should be set at liberty. He was -not mistaken peering through the crevices of the wooden -partition, he soon discovered the young girl, who cast aside -all her usual precautions and walked at once to the barrier. -The first glance which Maximilian directed towards her -entirely reassured him, and the first words she spoke made -his heart bound with delight. -"We are saved" said Valentine. "Saved?" repeated Morrel, -not being able to conceive such intense happiness "by -whom?" -"By my grandfather. Oh, Morrel, pray love him for all his -goodness to us" Morrel swore to love him with all his soul -and at that moment he could safely promise to do so, for he -felt as though it were not enough to love him merely as a -friend or even as a father. "But tell me, Valentine, how has -it all been effected? What strange means has he used to -compass this blessed end?" -Valentine was on the point of relating all that had passed, -but she suddenly remembered that in doing so she must reveal -a terrible secret which concerned others as well as her -grandfather, and she said, "At some future time I will tell -you all about it." -"But when will that be?" -"When I am your wife." -The conversation had now turned upon a topic so pleasing to -Morrel, that he was ready to accede to anything that -Valentine thought fit to propose, and he likewise felt that -a piece of intelligence such as he just heard ought to be -more than sufficient to content him for one day. However, he -would not leave without the promise of seeing Valentine -again the next night. Valentine promised all that Morrel -required of her, and certainly it was less difficult now for -her to believe that she should marry Maximilian than it was -an hour ago to assure herself that she should not marry -Franz. During the time occupied by the interview we have -just detailed, Madame de Villefort had gone to visit M. -Noirtier. The old man looked at her with that stern and -forbidding expression with which he was accustomed to -receive her. -"Sir," said she, "it is superfluous for me to tell you that -Valentine's marriage is broken off, since it was here that -the affair was concluded." Noirtier's countenance remained -immovable. "But one thing I can tell you, of which I do not -think you are aware that is, that I have always been -opposed to this marriage, and that the contract was entered -into entirely without my consent or approbation." Noirtier -regarded his daughterinlaw with the look of a man desiring -an explanation. "Now that this marriage, which I know you so -much disliked, is done away with, I come to you on an errand -which neither M. de Villefort nor Valentine could -consistently undertake." Noirtier's eyes demanded the nature -of her mission. "I come to entreat you, sir," continued -Madame de Villefort, "as the only one who has the right of -doing so, inasmuch as I am the only one who will receive no -personal benefit from the transaction, I come to entreat -you to restore, not your love, for that she has always -possessed, but to restore your fortune to your -granddaughter." -There was a doubtful expression in Noirtier's eyes he was -evidently trying to discover the motive of this proceeding, -and he could not succeed in doing so. "May I hope, sir," -said Madame de Villefort, "that your intentions accord with -my request?" Noirtier made a sign that they did. "In that -case, sir," rejoined Madame de Villefort, "I will leave you -overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness at your prompt -acquiescence to my wishes." She then bowed to M. Noirtier -and retired. -The next day M. Noirtier sent for the notary the first will -was torn up and a second made, in which he left the whole of -his fortune to Valentine, on condition that she should never -be separated from him. It was then generally reported that -Mademoiselle de Villefort, the heiress of the marquis and -marchioness of SaintMeran, had regained the good graces of -her grandfather, and that she would ultimately be in -possession of an income of , livres. -While all the proceedings relative to the dissolution of the -marriagecontract were being carried on at the house of M. -de Villefort, Monte Cristo had paid his visit to the Count -of Morcerf, who, in order to lose no time in responding to -M. Danglars' wishes, and at the same time to pay all due -deference to his position in society, donned his uniform of -lieutenantgeneral, which he ornamented with all his -crosses, and thus attired, ordered his finest horses and -drove to the Rue de la Chausse d'Antin. -Danglars was balancing his monthly accounts, and it was -perhaps not the most favorable moment for finding him in his -best humor. At the first sight of his old friend, Danglars -assumed his majestic air, and settled himself in his -easychair. Morcerf, usually so stiff and formal, accosted -the banker in an affable and smiling manner, and, feeling -sure that the overture he was about make would be well -received, he did not consider it necessary to adopt any -manoeuvres in order to gain his end, but went at once -straight to the point. -"Well, baron," said he, "here I am at last some time has -elapsed since our plans were formed, and they are not yet -executed." Morcerf paused at these words, quietly waiting -till the cloud should have dispersed which had gathered on -the brow of Danglars, and which he attributed to his -silence but, on the contrary, to his great surprise, it -grew darker and darker. "To what do you allude, monsieur?" -said Danglars as if he were trying in vain to guess at the -possible meaning of the general's words. -"Ah," said Morcerf, "I see you are a stickler for forms, my -dear sir, and you would remind me that the ceremonial rites -should not be omitted. Ma foi, I beg your pardon, but as I -have but one son, and it is the first time I have ever -thought of marrying him, I am still serving my -apprenticeship, you know come, I will reform." And Morcerf -with a forced smile arose, and, making a low bow to M. -Danglars, said "Baron, I have the honor of asking of you -the hand of Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars for my son, the -Vicomte Albert de Morcerf." -But Danglars, instead of receiving this address in the -favorable manner which Morcerf had expected, knit his brow, -and without inviting the count, who was still standing, to -take a seat, he said "Monsieur, it will be necessary to -reflect before I give you an answer." -"To reflect?" said Morcerf, more and more astonished "have -you not had enough time for reflection during the eight -years which have elapsed since this marriage was first -discussed between us?" -"Count," said the banker, "things are constantly occurring -in the world to induce us to lay aside our most established -opinions, or at all events to cause us to remodel them -according to the change of circumstances, which may have -placed affairs in a totally different light to that in which -we at first viewed them." -"I do not understand you, baron," said Morcerf. -"What I mean to say is this, sir, that during the last -fortnight unforeseen circumstances have occurred" -"Excuse me," said Morcerf, "but is it a play we are acting?" -"A play?" -"Yes, for it is like one pray let us come more to the -point, and endeavor thoroughly to understand each other." -"That is quite my desire." -"You have seen M. de Monte Cristo have you not?" -"I see him very often," said Danglars, drawing himself up -"he is a particular friend of mine." -"Well, in one of your late conversations with him, you said -that I appeared to be forgetful and irresolute concerning -this marriage, did you not?" -"I did say so." -"Well, here I am, proving at once that I am really neither -the one nor the other, by entreating you to keep your -promise on that score." -Danglars did not answer. "Have you so soon changed your -mind," added Morcerf, "or have you only provoked my request -that you may have the pleasure of seeing me humbled?" -Danglars, seeing that if he continued the conversation in -the same tone in which he had begun it, the whole thing -might turn out to his own disadvantage, turned to Morcerf, -and said "Count, you must doubtless be surprised at my -reserve, and I assure you it costs me much to act in such a -manner towards you but, believe me when I say that -imperative necessity has imposed the painful task upon me." -"These are all so many empty words, my dear sir," said -Morcerf "they might satisfy a new acquaintance, but the -Comte de Morcerf does not rank in that list and when a man -like him comes to another, recalls to him his plighted word, -and this man fails to redeem the pledge, he has at least a -right to exact from him a good reason for so doing." -Danglars was a coward, but did not wish to appear so he was -piqued at the tone which Morcerf had just assumed. "I am not -without a good reason for my conduct," replied the banker. -"What do you mean to say?" -"I mean to say that I have a good reason, but that it is -difficult to explain." -"You must be aware, at all events, that it is impossible for -me to understand motives before they are explained to me -but one thing at least is clear, which is, that you decline -allying yourself with my family." -"No, sir," said Danglars "I merely suspend my decision, -that is all." -"And do you really flatter yourself that I shall yield to -all your caprices, and quietly and humbly await the time of -again being received into your good graces?" -"Then, count, if you will not wait, we must look upon these -projects as if they had never been entertained." The count -bit his lips till the blood almost started, to prevent the -ebullition of anger which his proud and irritable temper -scarcely allowed him to restrain understanding, however, -that in the present state of things the laugh would -decidedly be against him, he turned from the door, towards -which he had been directing his steps, and again confronted -the banker. A cloud settled on his brow, evincing decided -anxiety and uneasiness, instead of the expression of -offended pride which had lately reigned there. "My dear -Danglars," said Morcerf, "we have been acquainted for many -years, and consequently we ought to make some allowance for -each other's failings. You owe me an explanation, and really -it is but fair that I should know what circumstance has -occurred to deprive my son of your favor." -"It is from no personal illfeeling towards the viscount, -that is all I can say, sir," replied Danglars, who resumed -his insolent manner as soon as he perceived that Morcerf was -a little softened and calmed down. "And towards whom do you -bear this personal illfeeling, then?" said Morcerf, turning -pale with anger. The expression of the count's face had not -remained unperceived by the banker he fixed on him a look -of greater assurance than before, and said "You may, -perhaps, be better satisfied that I should not go farther -into particulars." -A tremor of suppressed rage shook the whole frame of the -count, and making a violent effort over himself, he said "I -have a right to insist on your giving me an explanation. Is -it Madame de Morcerf who has displeased you? Is it my -fortune which you find insufficient? Is it because my -opinions differ from yours?" -"Nothing of the kind, sir," replied Danglars "if such had -been the case, I only should have been to blame, inasmuch as -I was aware of all these things when I made the engagement. -No, do not seek any longer to discover the reason. I really -am quite ashamed to have been the cause of your undergoing -such severe selfexamination let us drop the subject, and -adopt the middle course of delay, which implies neither a -rupture nor an engagement. Ma foi, there is no hurry. My -daughter is only seventeen years old, and your son -twentyone. While we wait, time will be progressing, events -will succeed each other things which in the evening look -dark and obscure, appear but too clearly in the light of -morning, and sometimes the utterance of one word, or the -lapse of a single day, will reveal the most cruel -calumnies." -"Calumnies, did you say, sir?" cried Morcerf, turning livid -with rage. "Does any one dare to slander me?" -"Monsieur, I told you that I considered it best to avoid all -explanation." -"Then, sir, I am patiently to submit to your refusal?" -"Yes, sir, although I assure you the refusal is as painful -for me to give as it is for you to receive, for I had -reckoned on the honor of your alliance, and the breaking off -of a marriage contract always injures the lady more than the -gentleman." -"Enough, sir," said Morcerf, "we will speak no more on the -subject." And clutching his gloves in anger, he left the -apartment. Danglars observed that during the whole -conversation Morcerf had never once dared to ask if it was -on his own account that Danglars recalled his word. That -evening he had a long conference with several friends and -M. Cavalcanti, who had remained in the drawingroom with the -ladies, was the last to leave the banker's house. -The next morning, as soon as he awoke, Danglars asked for -the newspapers they were brought to him he laid aside -three or four, and at last fixed on the Impartial, the paper -of which Beauchamp was the chief editor. He hastily tore off -the cover, opened the journal with nervous precipitation, -passed contemptuously over the Paris jottings, and arriving -at the miscellaneous intelligence, stopped with a malicious -smile, at a paragraph headed "We hear from Yanina." "Very -good," observed Danglars, after having read the paragraph -"here is a little article on Colonel Fernand, which, if I am -not mistaken, would render the explanation which the Comte -de Morcerf required of me perfectly unnecessary." -At the same moment, that is, at nine o'clock in the morning, -Albert de Morcerf, dressed in a black coat buttoned up to -his chin, might have been seen walking with a quick and -agitated step in the direction of Monte Cristo's house in -the Champs Elysees. When he presented himself at the gate -the porter informed him that the Count had gone out about -half an hour previously. "Did he take Baptistin with him?" -"No, my lord." -"Call him, then I wish to speak to him." The concierge went -to seek the valet de chambre, and returned with him in an -instant. -"My good friend," said Albert, "I beg pardon for my -intrusion, but I was anxious to know from your own mouth if -your master was really out or not." -"He is really out, sir," replied Baptistin. -"Out, even to me?" -"I know how happy my master always is to receive the -vicomte," said Baptistin "and I should therefore never -think of including him in any general order." -"You are right and now I wish to see him on an affair of -great importance. Do you think it will be long before he -comes in?" -"No, I think not, for he ordered his breakfast at ten -o'clock." -"Well, I will go and take a turn in the Champs Elysees, and -at ten o'clock I will return here meanwhile, if the count -should come in, will you beg him not to go out again without -seeing me?" -"You may depend on my doing so, sir," said Baptistin. -Albert left the cab in which he had come at the count's -door, intending to take a turn on foot. As he was passing -the Allee des Veuves, he thought he saw the count's horses -standing at Gosset's shootinggallery he approached, and -soon recognized the coachman. "Is the count shooting in the -gallery?" said Morcerf. -"Yes, sir," replied the coachman. While he was speaking, -Albert had heard the report of two or three pistolshots. He -entered, and on his way met the waiter. "Excuse me, my -lord," said the lad "but will you have the kindness to wait -a moment?" -"What for, Philip?" asked Albert, who, being a constant -visitor there, did not understand this opposition to his -entrance. -"Because the person who is now in the gallery prefers being -alone, and never practices in the presence of any one." -"Not even before you, Philip? Then who loads his pistol?" -"His servant." -"A Nubian?" -"A negro." -"It is he, then." -"Do you know this gentleman?" -"Yes, and I am come to look for him he is a friend of -mine." -"Oh, that is quite another thing, then. I will go -immediately and inform him of your arrival." And Philip, -urged by his own curiosity, entered the gallery a second -afterwards, Monte Cristo appeared on the threshold. "I ask -your pardon, my dear count," said Albert, "for following you -here, and I must first tell you that it was not the fault of -your servants that I did so I alone am to blame for the -indiscretion. I went to your house, and they told me you -were out, but that they expected you home at ten o'clock to -breakfast. I was walking about in order to pass away the -time till ten o'clock, when I caught sight of your carriage -and horses." -"What you have just said induces me to hope that you intend -breakfasting with me." -"No, thank you, I am thinking of other things besides -breakfast just now perhaps we may take that meal at a later -hour and in worse company." -"What on earth are you talking of?" -"I am to fight today." -"For what?" -"I am going to fight" -"Yes, I understand that, but what is the quarrel? People -fight for all sorts of reasons, you know." -"I fight in the cause of honor." -"Ah, that is something serious." -"So serious, that I come to beg you to render me a service." -"What is it?" -"To be my second." -"That is a serious matter, and we will not discuss it here -let us speak of nothing till we get home. Ali, bring me some -water." The count turned up his sleeves, and passed into the -little vestibule where the gentlemen were accustomed to wash -their hands after shooting. "Come in, my lord," said Philip -in a low tone, "and I will show you something droll." -Morcerf entered, and in place of the usual target, he saw -some playingcards fixed against the wall. At a distance -Albert thought it was a complete suit, for he counted from -the ace to the ten. "Ah, ha," said Albert, "I see you were -preparing for a game of cards." -"No," said the count, "I was making a suit." -"How?" said Albert. -"Those are really aces and twos which you see, but my shots -have turned them into threes, fives, sevens, eights, nines, -and tens." Albert approached. In fact, the bullets had -actually pierced the cards in the exact places which the -painted signs would otherwise have occupied, the lines and -distances being as regularly kept as if they had been ruled -with pencil. "Diable," said Morcerf. -"What would you have, my dear viscount?" said Monte Cristo, -wiping his hands on the towel which Ali had brought him "I -must occupy my leisure moments in some way or other. But -come, I am waiting for you." Both men entered Monte Cristo's -carriage, which in the course of a few minutes deposited -them safely at No. . Monte Cristo took Albert into his -study, and pointing to a seat, placed another for himself. -"Now let us talk the matter over quietly," said the count. -"You see I am perfectly composed," said Albert. -"With whom are you going to fight?" -"With Beauchamp." -"One of your friends" -"Of course it is always with friends that one fights." -"I suppose you have some cause of quarrel?" -"I have." -"What has he done to you?" -"There appeared in his journal last night but wait, and -read for yourself." And Albert handed over the paper to the -count, who read as follows -"A correspondent at Yanina informs us of a fact of which -until now we had remained in ignorance. The castle which -formed the protection of the town was given up to the Turks -by a French officer named Fernand, in whom the grand vizier, -Ali Tepelini, had reposed the greatest confidence." -"Well," said Monte Cristo, "what do you see in that to annoy -you?" -"What do I see in it?" -"Yes what does it signify to you if the castle of Yanina -was given up by a French officer?" -"It signifies to my father, the Count of Morcerf, whose -Christian name is Fernand" -"Did your father serve under Ali Pasha?" -"Yes that is to say, he fought for the independence of the -Greeks, and hence arises the calumny." -"Oh, my dear viscount, do talk reason" -"I do not desire to do otherwise." -"Now, just tell me who the devil should know in France that -the officer Fernand and the Count of Morcerf are one and the -same person? and who cares now about Yanina, which was taken -as long ago as the year or ?" -"That just shows the meanness of this slander. They have -allowed all this time to elapse, and then all of a sudden -rake up events which have been forgotten to furnish -materials for scandal, in order to tarnish the lustre of our -high position. I inherit my father's name, and I do not -choose that the shadow of disgrace should darken it. I am -going to Beauchamp, in whose journal this paragraph appears, -and I shall insist on his retracting the assertion before -two witnesses." -"Beauchamp will never retract." -"Then he must fight." -"No he will not, for he will tell you, what is very true, -that perhaps there were fifty officers in the Greek army -bearing the same name." -"We will fight, nevertheless. I will efface that blot on my -father's character. My father, who was such a brave soldier, -whose career was so brilliant" -"Oh, well, he will add, "We are warranted in believing that -this Fernand is not the illustrious Count of Morcerf, who -also bears the same Christian name.'" -"I am determined not to be content with anything short of an -entire retractation." -"And you intend to make him do it in the presence of two -witnesses, do you?" -"Yes." -"You do wrong." -"Which means, I suppose, that you refuse the service which I -asked of you?" -"You know my theory regarding duels I told you my opinion -on that subject, if you remember, when we were at Rome." -"Nevertheless, my dear count, I found you this morning -engaged in an occupation but little consistent with the -notions you profess to entertain." -"Because, my dear fellow, you understand one must never be -eccentric. If one's lot is cast among fools, it is necessary -to study folly. I shall perhaps find myself one day called -out by some harebrained scamp, who has no more real cause of -quarrel with me than you have with Beauchamp he may take me -to task for some foolish trifle or other, he will bring his -witnesses, or will insult me in some public place, and I am -expected to kill him for all that." -"You admit that you would fight, then? Well, if so, why do -you object to my doing so?" -"I do not say that you ought not to fight, I only say that a -duel is a serious thing, and ought not to be undertaken -without due reflection." -"Did he reflect before he insulted my father?" -"If he spoke hastily, and owns that he did so, you ought to -be satisfied." -"Ah, my dear count, you are far too indulgent." -"And you are far too exacting. Supposing, for instance, and -do not be angry at what I am going to say" -"Well." -"Supposing the assertion to be really true?" -"A son ought not to submit to such a stain on his father's -honor." -"Ma foi, we live in times when there is much to which we -must submit." -"That is precisely the fault of the age." -"And do you undertake to reform it?" -"Yes, as far as I am personally concerned." -"Well, you the?? indeed exacting, my dear fellow" -"Yes, I own it." -"Are you quite impervious to good advice?" -"Not when it comes from a friend." -"And do you account me that title?" -"Certainly I do." -"Well, then, before going to Beauchamp with your witnesses, -seek further information on the subject." -"From whom?" -"From Haidee." -"Why, what can be the use of mixing a woman up in the -affair? what can she do in it?" -"She can declare to you, for example, that your father had -no hand whatever in the defeat and death of the vizier or -if by chance he had, indeed, the misfortune to" -"I have told you, my dear count, that I would not for one -moment admit of such a proposition." -"You reject this means of information, then?" -"I do most decidedly." -"Then let me offer one more word of advice." -"Do so, then, but let it be the last." -"You do not wish to hear it, perhaps?" -"On the contrary, I request it." -"Do not take any witnesses with you when you go to Beauchamp -visit him alone." -"That would be contrary to all custom." -"Your case is not an ordinary one." -"And what is your reason for advising me to go alone?" -"Because then the affair will rest between you and -Beauchamp." -"Explain yourself." -"I will do so. If Beauchamp be disposed to retract, you -ought at least to give him the opportunity of doing it of -his own free will, the satisfaction to you will be the -same. If, on the contrary, he refuses to do so, it will then -be quite time enough to admit two strangers into your -secret." -"They will not be strangers, they will be friends." -"Ah, but the friends of today are the enemies of tomorrow -Beauchamp, for instance." -"So you recommend" -"I recommend you to be prudent." -"Then you advise me to go alone to Beauchamp?" -"I do, and I will tell you why. When you wish to obtain some -concession from a man's selflove, you must avoid even the -appearance of wishing to wound it." -"I believe you are right." -"I am glad of it." -"Then I will go alone." -"Go but you would do better still by not going at all." -"That is impossible." -"Do so, then it will be a wiser plan than the first which -you proposed." -"But if, in spite of all my precautions, I am at last -obliged to fight, will you not be my second?" -"My dear viscount," said Monte Cristo gravely, "you must -have seen before today that at all times and in all places -I have been at your disposal, but the service which you have -just demanded of me is one which it is out of my power to -render you." -"Why?" -"Perhaps you may know at some future period, and in the mean -time I request you to excuse my declining to put you in -possession of my reasons." -"Well, I will have Franz and ChateauRenaud they will be -the very men for it." -"Do so, then." -"But if I do fight, you will surely not object to giving me -a lesson or two in shooting and fencing?" -"That, too, is impossible." -"What a singular being you are you will not interfere in -anything." -"You are right that is the principle on which I wish to -act." -"We will say no more about it, then. Goodby, count." -Morcerf took his hat, and left the room. He found his -carriage at the door, and doing his utmost to restrain his -anger he went at once to find Beauchamp, who was in his -office. It was a gloomy, dustylooking apartment, such as -journalists' offices have always been from time immemorial. -The servant announced M. Albert de Morcerf. Beauchamp -repeated the name to himself, as though he could scarcely -believe that he had heard aright, and then gave orders for -him to be admitted. Albert entered. Beauchamp uttered an -exclamation of surprise on seeing his friend leap over and -trample under foot all the newspapers which were strewed -about the room. "This way, this way, my dear Albert" said -he, holding out his hand to the young man. "Are you out of -your senses, or do you come peaceably to take breakfast with -me? Try and find a seat there is one by that geranium, -which is the only thing in the room to remind me that there -are other leaves in the world besides leaves of paper." -"Beauchamp," said Albert, "it is of your journal that I come -to speak." -"Indeed? What do you wish to say about it?" -"I desire that a statement contained in it should be -rectified." -"To what do you refer? But pray sit down." -"Thank you," said Albert, with a cold and formal bow. -"Will you now have the kindness to explain the nature of the -statement which has displeased you?" -"An announcement has been made which implicates the honor of -a member of my family." -"What is it?" said Beauchamp, much surprised "surely you -must be mistaken." -"The story sent you from Yanina." -"Yanina?" -"Yes really you appear to be totally ignorant of the cause -which brings me here." -"Such is really the case, I assure you, upon my honor -Baptiste, give me yesterday's paper," cried Beauchamp. -"Here, I have brought mine with me," replied Albert. -Beauchamp took the paper, and read the article to which -Albert pointed in an undertone. "You see it is a serious -annoyance," said Morcerf, when Beauchamp had finished the -perusal of the paragraph. "Is the officer referred to a -relation of yours, then?" demanded the journalist. -"Yes," said Albert, blushing. -"Well, what do you wish me to do for you?" said Beauchamp -mildly. -"My dear Beauchamp, I wish you to contradict this -statement." Beauchamp looked at Albert with a benevolent -expression. -"Come," said he, "this matter will want a good deal of -talking over a retractation is always a serious thing, you -know. Sit down, and I will read it again." Albert resumed -his seat, and Beauchamp read, with more attention than at -first, the lines denounced by his friend. "Well," said -Albert in a determined tone, "you see that your paper his -insulted a member of my family, and I insist on a -retractation being made." -"You insist?" -"Yes, I insist." -"Permit me to remind you that you are not in the Chamber, my -dear Viscount." -"Nor do I wish to be there," replied the young man, rising. -"I repeat that I am determined to have the announcement of -yesterday contradicted. You have known me long enough," -continued Albert, biting his lips convulsively, for he saw -that Beauchamp's anger was beginning to rise, "you have -been my friend, and therefore sufficiently intimate with me -to be aware that I am likely to maintain my resolution on -this point." -"If I have been your friend, Morcerf, your present manner of -speaking would almost lead me to forget that I ever bore -that title. But wait a moment, do not let us get angry, or -at least not yet. You are irritated and vexed tell me how -this Fernand is related to you?" -"He is merely my father," said Albert "M. Fernand -Mondego, Count of Morcerf, an old soldier who has fought in -twenty battles and whose honorable scars they would denounce -as badges of disgrace." -"Is it your father?" said Beauchamp "that is quite another -thing. Then can well understand your indignation, my dear -Albert. I will look at it again" and he read the paragraph -for the third time, laying a stress on each word as he -proceeded. "But the paper nowhere identifies this Fernand -with your father." -"No but the connection will be seen by others, and -therefore I will have the article contradicted." At the -words "I will," Beauchamp steadily raised his eyes to -Albert's countenance, and then as gradually lowering them, -he remained thoughtful for a few moments. "You will retract -this assertion, will you not, Beauchamp?" said Albert with -increased though stifled anger. -"Yes," replied Beauchamp. -"Immediately?" said Albert. -"When I am convinced that the statement is false." -"What?" -"The thing is worth looking into, and I will take pains to -investigate the matter thoroughly." -"But what is there to investigate, sir?" said Albert, -enraged beyond measure at Beauchamp's last remark. "If you -do not believe that it is my father, say so immediately and -if, on the contrary, you believe it to be him, state your -reasons for doing so." Beauchamp looked at Albert with the -smile which was so peculiar to him, and which in its -numerous modifications served to express every varied -emotion of his mind. "Sir," replied he, "if you came to me -with the idea of demanding satisfaction, you should have -gone at once to the point, and not have entertained me with -the idle conversation to which I have been patiently -listening for the last half hour. Am I to put this -construction on your visit?" -"Yes, if you will not consent to retract that infamous -calumny." -"Wait a moment no threats, if you please, M. Fernand -Mondego, Vicomte de Morcerf I never allow them from my -enemies, and therefore shall not put up with them from my -friends. You insist on my contradicting the article relating -to General Fernand, an article with which, I assure you on -my word of honor, I had nothing whatever to do?" -"Yes, I insist on it," said Albert, whose mind was beginning -to get bewildered with the excitement of his feelings. -"And if I refuse to retract, you wish to fight, do you?" -said Beauchamp in a calm tone. -"Yes," replied Albert, raising his voice. -"Well," said Beauchamp, "here is my answer, my dear sir. The -article was not inserted by me I was not even aware of -it but you have, by the step you have taken, called my -attention to the paragraph in question, and it will remain -until it shall be either contradicted or confirmed by some -one who has a right to do so." -"Sir," said Albert, rising, "I will do myself the honor of -sending my seconds to you, and you will be kind enough to -arrange with them the place of meeting and the weapons." -"Certainly, my dear sir." -"And this evening, if you please, or tomorrow at the -latest, we will meet." -"No, no, I will be on the ground at the proper time but in -my opinion and I have a right to dictate the preliminaries, -as it is I who have received the provocation in my -opinion the time ought not to be yet. I know you to be well -skilled in the management of the sword, while I am only -moderately so I know, too, that you are a good marksman -there we are about equal. I know that a duel between us two -would be a serious affair, because you are brave, and I am -brave also. I do not therefore wish either to kill you, or -to be killed myself without a cause. Now, I am going to put -a question to you, and one very much to the purpose too. Do -you insist on this retractation so far as to kill me if I do -not make it, although I have repeated more than once, and -affirmed on my honor, that I was ignorant of the thing with -which you charge me, and although I still declare that it is -impossible for any one but you to recognize the Count of -Morcerf under the name of Fernand?" -"I maintain my original resolution." -"Very well, my dear sir then I consent to cut throats with -you. But I require three weeks' preparation at the end of -that time I shall come and say to you, "The assertion is -false, and I retract it,' or "The assertion is true,' when I -shall immediately draw the sword from its sheath, or the -pistols from the case, whichever you please." -"Three weeks" cried Albert "they will pass as slowly as -three centuries when I am all the time suffering dishonor." -"Had you continued to remain on amicable terms with me, I -should have said, "Patience, my friend' but you have -constituted yourself my enemy, therefore I say, "What does -that signify to me, sir?'" -"Well, let it be three weeks then," said Morcerf "but -remember, at the expiration of that time no delay or -subterfuge will justify you in" -"M. Albert de Morcerf," said Beauchamp, rising in his turn, -"I cannot throw you out of window for three weeks that is -to say, for twentyfour days to come nor have you any -right to split my skull open till that time has elapsed. -Today is the th of August the st of September will, -therefore, be the conclusion of the term agreed on, and till -that time arrives and it is the advice of a gentleman -which I am about to give you till then we will refrain -from growling and barking like two dogs chained within sight -of each other." When he had concluded his speech, Beauchamp -bowed coldly to Albert, turned his back upon him, and went -to the pressroom. -Albert vented his anger on a pile of newspapers, which he -sent flying all over the office by switching them violently -with his stick after which ebullition he departed not, -however, without walking several times to the door of the -pressroom, as if he had half a mind to enter. While Albert -was lashing the front of his carriage in the same manner -that he had the newspapers which were the innocent agents of -his discomfiture, as he was crossing the barrier he -perceived Morrel, who was walking with a quick step and a -bright eye. He was passing the Chinese Baths, and appeared -to have come from the direction of the Porte SaintMartin, -and to be going towards the Madeleine. "Ah," said Morcerf, -"there goes a happy man" And it so happened Albert was not -mistaken in his opinion. -Chapter -The Lemonade. -Morrel was, in fact, very happy. M. Noirtier had just sent -for him, and he was in such haste to know the reason of his -doing so that he had not stopped to take a cab, placing -infinitely more dependence on his own two legs than on the -four legs of a cabhorse. He had therefore set off at a -furious rate from the Rue Meslay, and was hastening with -rapid strides in the direction of the Faubourg SaintHonore. -Morrel advanced with a firm, manly tread, and poor Barrois -followed him as he best might. Morrel was only thirtyone, -Barrois was sixty years of age Morrel was deeply in love, -and Barrois was dying with heat and exertion. These two men, -thus opposed in age and interests, resembled two parts of a -triangle, presenting the extremes of separation, yet -nevertheless possessing their point of union. This point of -union was Noirtier, and it was he who had just sent for -Morrel, with the request that the latter would lose no time -in coming to him a command which Morrel obeyed to the -letter, to the great discomfiture of Barrois. On arriving at -the house, Morrel was not even out of breath, for love lends -wings to our desires but Barrois, who had long forgotten -what it was to love, was sorely fatigued by the expedition -he had been constrained to use. -The old servant introduced Morrel by a private entrance, -closed the door of the study, and soon the rustling of a -dress announced the arrival of Valentine. She looked -marvellously beautiful in her deep mourning dress, and -Morrel experienced such intense delight in gazing upon her -that he felt as if he could almost have dispensed with the -conversation of her grandfather. But the easychair of the -old man was heard rolling along the floor, and he soon made -his appearance in the room. Noirtier acknowledged by a look -of extreme kindness and benevolence the thanks which Morrel -lavished on him for his timely intervention on behalf of -Valentine and himself an intervention which had saved -them from despair. Morrel then cast on the invalid an -interrogative look as to the new favor which he designed to -bestow on him. Valentine was sitting at a little distance -from them, timidly awaiting the moment when she should be -obliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her. "Am I to -say what you told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a sign -that she was to do so. -"Monsieur Morrel," said Valentine to the young man, who was -regarding her with the most intense interest, "my -grandfather, M. Noirtier, had a thousand things to say, -which he told me three days ago and now, he has sent for -you, that I may repeat them to you. I will repeat them, -then and since he has chosen me as his interpreter, I will -be faithful to the trust, and will not alter a word of his -intentions." -"Oh, I am listening with the greatest impatience," replied -the young man "speak, I beg of you." Valentine cast down -her eyes this was a good omen for Morrel, for he knew that -nothing but happiness could have the power of thus -overcoming Valentine. "My grandfather intends leaving this -house," said she, "and Barrois is looking out suitable -apartments for him in another." -"But you, Mademoiselle de Villefort, you, who are -necessary to M. Noirtier's happiness" -"I?" interrupted Valentine "I shall not leave my -grandfather, that is an understood thing between us. My -apartment will be close to his. Now, M. de Villefort must -either give his consent to this plan or his refusal in the -first case, I shall leave directly, and in the second, I -shall wait till I am of age, which will be in about ten -months. Then I shall be free, I shall have an independent -fortune, and" -"And what?" demanded Morrel. -"And with my grandfather's consent I shall fulfil the -promise which I have made you." Valentine pronounced these -last few words in such a low tone, that nothing but Morrel's -intense interest in what she was saying could have enabled -him to hear them. "Have I not explained your wishes, -grandpapa?" said Valentine, addressing Noirtier. "Yes," -looked the old man. "Once under my grandfather's roof, M. -Morrel can visit me in the presence of my good and worthy -protector, if we still feel that the union we contemplated -will be likely to insure our future comfort and happiness -in that case I shall expect M. Morrel to come and claim me -at my own hands. But, alas, I have heard it said that hearts -inflamed by obstacles to their desire grew cold in time of -security I trust we shall never find it so in our -experience" -"Oh," cried Morrel, almost tempted to throw himself on his -knees before Noirtier and Valentine, and to adore them as -two superior beings, "what have I ever done in my life to -merit such unbounded happiness?" -"Until that time," continued the young girl in a calm and -selfpossessed tone of voice, "we will conform to -circumstances, and be guided by the wishes of our friends, -so long as those wishes do not tend finally to separate us -in a word, and I repeat it, because it expresses all I wish -to convey, we will wait." -"And I swear to make all the sacrifices which this word -imposes, sir," said Morrel, "not only with resignation, but -with cheerfulness." -"Therefore," continued Valentine, looking playfully at -Maximilian, "no more inconsiderate actions no more rash -projects for you surely would not wish to compromise one -who from this day regards herself as destined, honorably and -happily, to bear your name?" -Morrel looked obedience to her commands. Noirtier regarded -the lovers with a look of ineffable tenderness, while -Barrois, who had remained in the room in the character of a -man privileged to know everything that passed, smiled on the -youthful couple as he wiped the perspiration from his bald -forehead. "How hot you look, my good Barrois," said -Valentine. -"Ah, I have been running very fast, mademoiselle, but I must -do M. Morrel the justice to say that he ran still faster." -Noirtier directed their attention to a waiter, on which was -placed a decanter containing lemonade and a glass. The -decanter was nearly full, with the exception of a little, -which had been already drunk by M. Noirtier. -"Come, Barrois," said the young girl, "take some of this -lemonade I see you are coveting a good draught of it." -"The fact is, mademoiselle," said Barrois, "I am dying with -thirst, and since you are so kind as to offer it me, I -cannot say I should at all object to drinking your health in -a glass of it." -"Take some, then, and come back immediately." Barrois took -away the waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which -in his haste he forgot to shut, than they saw him throw back -his head and empty to the very dregs the glass which -Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were exchanging -their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was -heard at the doorbell. It was the signal of a visit. -Valentine looked at her watch. -"It is past noon," said she, "and today is Saturday I dare -say it is the doctor, grandpapa." Noirtier looked his -conviction that she was right in her supposition. "He will -come in here, and M. Morrel had better go, do you not -think so, grandpapa?" -"Yes," signed the old man. -"Barrois," cried Valentine, "Barrois" -"I am coming, mademoiselle," replied he. "Barrois will open -the door for you," said Valentine, addressing Morrel. "And -now remember one thing, Monsieur Officer, that my -grandfather commands you not to take any rash or illadvised -step which would be likely to compromise our happiness." -"I promised him to wait," replied Morrel "and I will wait." -At this moment Barrois entered. "Who rang?" asked Valentine. -"Doctor d'Avrigny," said Barrois, staggering as if he would -fall. -"What is the matter, Barrois?" said Valentine. The old man -did not answer, but looked at his master with wild staring -eyes, while with his cramped hand he grasped a piece of -furniture to enable him to stand upright. "He is going to -fall" cried Morrel. The rigors which had attacked Barrois -gradually increased, the features of the face became quite -altered, and the convulsive movement of the muscles appeared -to indicate the approach of a most serious nervous disorder. -Noirtier, seeing Barrois in this pitiable condition, showed -by his looks all the various emotions of sorrow and sympathy -which can animate the heart of man. Barrois made some steps -towards his master. -"Ah, sir," said he, "tell me what is the matter with me. I -am suffering I cannot see. A thousand fiery darts are -piercing my brain. Ah, don't touch me, pray don't." By this -time his haggard eyes had the appearance of being ready to -start from their sockets his head fell back, and the lower -extremities of the body began to stiffen. Valentine uttered -a cry of horror Morrel took her in his arms, as if to -defend her from some unknown danger. "M. d'Avrigny, M. -d'Avrigny," cried she, in a stifled voice. "Help, help" -Barrois turned round and with a great effort stumbled a few -steps, then fell at the feet of Noirtier, and resting his -hand on the knee of the invalid, exclaimed, "My master, my -good master" At this moment M. de Villefort, attracted by -the noise, appeared on the threshold. Morrel relaxed his -hold of Valentine, and retreating to a distant corner of the -room remained half hidden behind a curtain. Pale as if he -had been gazing on a serpent, he fixed his terrified eye on -the agonized sufferer. -Noirtier, burning with impatience and terror, was in despair -at his utter inability to help his old domestic, whom he -regarded more in the light of a friend than a servant. One -might by the fearful swelling of the veins of his forehead -and the contraction of the muscles round the eye, trace the -terrible conflict which was going on between the living -energetic mind and the inanimate and helpless body. Barrois, -his features convulsed, his eyes suffused with blood, and -his head thrown back, was lying at full length, beating the -floor with his hands, while his legs had become so stiff, -that they looked as if they would break rather than bend. A -slight appearance of foam was visible around the mouth, and -he breathed painfully, and with extreme difficulty. -Villefort seemed stupefied with astonishment, and remained -gazing intently on the scene before him without uttering a -word. He had not seen Morrel. After a moment of dumb -contemplation, during which his face became pale and his -hair seemed to stand on end, he sprang towards the door, -crying out, "Doctor, doctor come instantly, pray come" -"Madame, madame" cried Valentine, calling her stepmother, -and running upstairs to meet her "come quick, quick -and bring your bottle of smellingsalts with you." -"What is the matter?" said Madame de Villefort in a harsh -and constrained tone. -"Oh, come, come" -"But where is the doctor?" exclaimed Villefort "where is -he?" Madame de Villefort now deliberately descended the -staircase. In one hand she held her handkerchief, with which -she appeared to be wiping her face, and in the other a -bottle of English smellingsalts. Her first look on entering -the room was at Noirtier, whose face, independent of the -emotion which such a scene could not fail of producing, -proclaimed him to be in possession of his usual health her -second glance was at the dying man. She turned pale, and her -eye passed quickly from the servant and rested on the -master. -"In the name of heaven, madame," said Villefort, "where is -the doctor? He was with you just now. You see this is a fit -of apoplexy, and he might be saved if he could but be bled" -"Has he eaten anything lately?" asked Madame de Villefort, -eluding her husband's question. "Madame," replied Valentine, -"he has not even breakfasted. He has been running very fast -on an errand with which my grandfather charged him, and when -he returned, took nothing but a glass of lemonade." -"Ah," said Madame de Villefort, "why did he not take wine? -Lemonade was a very bad thing for him." -"Grandpapa's bottle of lemonade was standing just by his -side poor Barrois was very thirsty, and was thankful to -drink anything he could find." Madame de Villefort started. -Noirtier looked at her with a glance of the most profound -scrutiny. "He has such a short neck," said she. "Madame," -said Villefort, "I ask where is M. d'Avrigny? In God's name -answer me" -"He is with Edward, who is not quite well," replied Madame -de Villefort, no longer being able to avoid answering. -Villefort rushed upstairs to fetch him. "Take this," said -Madame de Villefort, giving her smellingbottle to -Valentine. "They will, no doubt, bleed him therefore I will -retire, for I cannot endure the sight of blood" and she -followed her husband upstairs. Morrel now emerged from his -hidingplace, where he had remained quite unperceived, so -great had been the general confusion. "Go away as quick as -you can, Maximilian," said Valentine, "and stay till I send -for you. Go." -Morrel looked towards Noirtier for permission to retire. The -old man, who had preserved all his usual coolness, made a -sign to him to do so. The young man pressed Valentine's hand -to his lips, and then left the house by a back staircase. At -the same moment that he quitted the room, Villefort and the -doctor entered by an opposite door. Barrois was now showing -signs of returning consciousness. The crisis seemed past, a -low moaning was heard, and he raised himself on one knee. -D'Avrigny and Villefort laid him on a couch. "What do you -prescribe, doctor?" demanded Villefort. "Give me some water -and ether. You have some in the house, have you not?" -"Yes." -"Send for some oil of turpentine and tartar emetic." -Villefort immediately despatched a messenger. "And now let -every one retire." -"Must I go too?" asked Valentine timidly. -"Yes, mademoiselle, you especially," replied the doctor -abruptly. -Valentine looked at M. d'Avrigny with astonishment, kissed -her grandfather on the forehead, and left the room. The -doctor closed the door after her with a gloomy air. "Look, -look, doctor," said Villefort, "he is quite coming round -again I really do not think, after all, it is anything of -consequence." M. d'Avrigny answered by a melancholy smile. -"How do you feel, Barrois?" asked he. "A little better, -sir." -"Will you drink some of this ether and water?" -"I will try but don't touch me." -"Why not?" -"Because I feel that if you were only to touch me with the -tip of your finger the fit would return." -"Drink." -Barrois took the glass, and, raising it to his purple lips, -took about half of the liquid offered him. "Where do you -suffer?" asked the doctor. -"Everywhere. I feel cramps over my whole body." -"Do you find any dazzling sensation before the eyes?" -"Yes." -"Any noise in the ears?" -"Frightful." -"When did you first feel that?" -"Just now." -"Suddenly?" -"Yes, like a clap of thunder." -"Did you feel nothing of it yesterday or the day before?" -"Nothing." -"No drowsiness?" -"None." -"What have you eaten today?" -"I have eaten nothing I only drank a glass of my master's -lemonade that's all" and Barrois turned towards -Noirtier, who, immovably fixed in his armchair, was -contemplating this terrible scene without allowing a word or -a movement to escape him. -"Where is this lemonade?" asked the doctor eagerly. -"Downstairs in the decanter." -"Whereabouts downstairs?" -"In the kitchen." -"Shall I go and fetch it, doctor?" inquired Villefort. -"No, stay here and try to make Barrois drink the rest of -this glass of ether and water. I will go myself and fetch -the lemonade." D'Avrigny bounded towards the door, flew down -the back staircase, and almost knocked down Madame de -Villefort, in his haste, who was herself going down to the -kitchen. She cried out, but d'Avrigny paid no attention to -her possessed with but one idea, he cleared the last four -steps with a bound, and rushed into the kitchen, where he -saw the decanter about three parts empty still standing on -the waiter, where it had been left. He darted upon it as an -eagle would seize upon its prey. Panting with loss of -breath, he returned to the room he had just left. Madame de -Villefort was slowly ascending the steps which led to her -room. "Is this the decanter you spoke of?" asked d'Avrigny. -"Yes, doctor." -"Is this the same lemonade of which you partook?" -"I believe so." -"What did it taste like?" -"It had a bitter taste." -The doctor poured some drops of the lemonade into the palm -of his hand, put his lips to it, and after having rinsed his -mouth as a man does when he is tasting wine, he spat the -liquor into the fireplace. -"It is no doubt the same," said he. "Did you drink some too, -M. Noirtier?" -"Yes." -"And did you also discover a bitter taste?" -"Yes." -"Oh, doctor," cried Barrois, "the fit is coming on again. -Oh, do something for me." The doctor flew to his patient. -"That emetic, Villefort see if it is coming." Villefort -sprang into the passage, exclaiming, "The emetic the -emetic is it come yet?" No one answered. The most -profound terror reigned throughout the house. "If I had -anything by means of which I could inflate the lungs," said -d'Avrigny, looking around him, "perhaps I might prevent -suffocation. But there is nothing which would do -nothing" "Oh, sir," cried Barrois, "are you going to let me -die without help? Oh, I am dying Oh, save me" -"A pen, a pen" said the doctor. There was one lying on the -table he endeavored to introduce it into the mouth of the -patient, who, in the midst of his convulsions, was making -vain attempts to vomit but the jaws were so clinched that -the pen could not pass them. This second attack was much -more violent than the first, and he had slipped from the -couch to the ground, where he was writhing in agony. The -doctor left him in this paroxysm, knowing that he could do -nothing to alleviate it, and, going up to Noirtier, said -abruptly, "How do you find yourself? well?" -"Yes." -"Have you any weight on the chest or does your stomach feel -light and comfortable eh?" -"Yes." -"Then you feel pretty much as you generally do after you -have had the dose which I am accustomed to give you every -Sunday?" -"Yes." -"Did Barrois make your lemonade?" -"Yes." -"Was it you who asked him to drink some of it?" -"No." -"Was it M. de Villefort?" -"No." -"Madame?" -"No." -"It was your granddaughter, then, was it not?" -"Yes." A groan from Barrois, accompanied by a yawn which -seemed to crack the very jawbones, attracted the attention -of M. d'Avrigny he left M. Noirtier, and returned to the -sick man. "Barrois," said the doctor, "can you speak?" -Barrois muttered a few unintelligible words. "Try and make -an effort to do so, my good man." said d'Avrigny. Barrois -reopened his bloodshot eyes. "Who made the lemonade?" -"I did." -"Did you bring it to your master directly it was made?" -"No." -"You left it somewhere, then, in the meantime?" -"Yes I left it in the pantry, because I was called away." -"Who brought it into this room, then?" -"Mademoiselle Valentine." D'Avrigny struck his forehead with -his hand. "Gracious heaven," exclaimed he. "Doctor, doctor" -cried Barrois, who felt another fit coming. -"Will they never bring that emetic?" asked the doctor. -"Here is a glass with one already prepared," said Villefort, -entering the room. -"Who prepared it?" -"The chemist who came here with me." -"Drink it," said the doctor to Barrois. "Impossible, doctor -it is too late my throat is closing up. I am choking Oh, -my heart Ah, my head Oh, what agony Shall I suffer -like this long?" -"No, no, friend," replied the doctor, "you will soon cease -to suffer." -"Ah, I understand you," said the unhappy man. "My God, have -mercy upon me" and, uttering a fearful cry, Barrois fell -back as if he had been struck by lightning. D'Avrigny put -his hand to his heart, and placed a glass before his lips. -"Well?" said Villefort. "Go to the kitchen and get me some -syrup of violets." Villefort went immediately. "Do not be -alarmed, M. Noirtier," said d'Avrigny "I am going to take -my patient into the next room to bleed him this sort of -attack is very frightful to witness." -And taking Barrois under the arms, he dragged him into an -adjoining room but almost immediately he returned to fetch -the lemonade. Noirtier closed lids right eye. "You want -Valentine, do you not? I will tell them to send her to you." -Villefort returned, and d'Avrigny met him in the passage. -"Well, how is he now?" asked he. "Come in here," said -d'Avrigny, and he took him into the chamber where the sick -man lay. "Is he still in a fit?" said the procureur. -"He is dead." -Villefort drew back a few steps, and, clasping his hands, -exclaimed, with real amazement and sympathy, "Dead? and -so soon too" -"Yes, it is very soon," said the doctor, looking at the -corpse before him "but that ought not to astonish you -Monsieur and Madame de SaintMeran died as soon. People die -very suddenly in your house, M. de Villefort." -"What?" cried the magistrate, with an accent of horror and -consternation, "are you still harping on that terrible -idea?" -"Still, sir and I shall always do so," replied d'Avrigny, -"for it has never for one instant ceased to retain -possession of my mind and that you may be quite sure I am -not mistaken this time, listen well to what I am going to -say, M. de Villefort." The magistrate trembled convulsively. -"There is a poison which destroys life almost without -leaving any perceptible traces. I know it well I have -studied it in all its forms and in the effects which it -produces. I recognized the presence of this poison in the -case of poor Barrois as well as in that of Madame de -SaintMeran. There is a way of detecting its presence. It -restores the blue color of litmuspaper reddened by an acid, -and it turns syrup of violets green. We have no -litmuspaper, but, see, here they come with the syrup of -violets." -The doctor was right steps were heard in the passage. M. -d'Avrigny opened the door, and took from the hands of the -chambermaid a cup which contained two or three spoonfuls of -the syrup, he then carefully closed the door. "Look," said -he to the procureur, whose heart beat so loudly that it -might almost be heard, "here is in this cup some syrup of -violets, and this decanter contains the remainder of the -lemonade of which M. Noirtier and Barrois partook. If the -lemonade be pure and inoffensive, the syrup will retain its -color if, on the contrary, the lemonade be drugged with -poison, the syrup will become green. Look closely" -The doctor then slowly poured some drops of the lemonade -from the decanter into the cup, and in an instant a light -cloudy sediment began to form at the bottom of the cup this -sediment first took a blue shade, then from the color of -sapphire it passed to that of opal, and from opal to -emerald. Arrived at this last hue, it changed no more. The -result of the experiment left no doubt whatever on the mind. -"The unfortunate Barrois has been poisoned," said d'Avrigny, -"and I will maintain this assertion before God and man." -Villefort said nothing, but he clasped his hands, opened his -haggard eyes, and, overcome with his emotion, sank into a -chair. -Chapter -The Accusation. -M. D'Avrigny soon restored the magistrate to consciousness, -who had looked like a second corpse in that chamber of -death. "Oh, death is in my house" cried Villefort. -"Say, rather, crime" replied the doctor. -"M. d'Avrigny," cried Villefort, "I cannot tell you all I -feel at this moment, terror, grief, madness." -"Yes," said M. d'Avrigny, with an imposing calmness, "but I -think it is now time to act. I think it is time to stop this -torrent of mortality. I can no longer bear to be in -possession of these secrets without the hope of seeing the -victims and society generally revenged." Villefort cast a -gloomy look around him. "In my house," murmured he, "in my -house" -"Come, magistrate," said M. d'Avrigny, "show yourself a man -as an interpreter of the law, do honor to your profession by -sacrificing your selfish interests to it." -"You make me shudder, doctor. Do you talk of a sacrifice?" -"I do." -"Do you then suspect any one?" -"I suspect no one death raps at your door it enters -it goes, not blindfolded, but circumspectly, from room to -room. Well, I follow its course, I track its passage I -adopt the wisdom of the ancients, and feel my way, for my -friendship for your family and my respect for you are as a -twofold bandage over my eyes well" -"Oh, speak, speak, doctor I shall have courage." -"Well, sir, you have in your establishment, or in your -family, perhaps, one of the frightful monstrosities of which -each century produces only one. Locusta and Agrippina, -living at the same time, were an exception, and proved the -determination of providence to effect the entire ruin of the -Roman empire, sullied by so many crimes. Brunehilde and -Fredegonde were the results of the painful struggle of -civilization in its infancy, when man was learning to -control mind, were it even by an emissary from the realms of -darkness. All these women had been, or were, beautiful. The -same flower of innocence had flourished, or was still -flourishing, on their brow, that is seen on the brow of the -culprit in your house." Villefort shrieked, clasped his -hands, and looked at the doctor with a supplicating air. But -the latter went on without pity -""Seek whom the crime will profit,' says an axiom of -jurisprudence." -"Doctor," cried Villefort, "alas, doctor, how often has -man's justice been deceived by those fatal words. I know not -why, but I feel that this crime" -"You acknowledge, then, the existence of the crime?" -"Yes, I see too plainly that it does exist. But it seems -that it is intended to affect me personally. I fear an -attack myself, after all these disasters." -"Oh, man," murmured d'Avrigny, "the most selfish of all -animals, the most personal of all creatures, who believes -the earth turns, the sun shines, and death strikes for him -alone, an ant cursing God from the top of a blade of -grass And have those who have lost their lives lost -nothing? M. de SaintMeran, Madame de SaintMeran, M. -Noirtier" -"How? M. Noirtier?" -"Yes think you it was the poor servant's life was coveted? -No, no like Shakespeare's "Polonius,' he died for another. -It was Noirtier the lemonade was intended for it is -Noirtier, logically speaking, who drank it. The other drank -it only by accident, and, although Barrois is dead, it was -Noirtier whose death was wished for." -"But why did it not kill my father?" -"I told you one evening in the garden after Madame de -SaintMeran's death because his system is accustomed to -that very poison, and the dose was trifling to him, which -would be fatal to another because no one knows, not even -the assassin, that, for the last twelve months, I have given -M. Noirtier brucine for his paralytic affection, while the -assassin is not ignorant, for he has proved that brucine is -a violent poison." -"Oh, have pity have pity" murmured Villefort, wringing -his hands. -"Follow the culprit's steps he first kills M. de -SaintMeran" -"O doctor" -"I would swear to it what I heard of his symptoms agrees -too well with what I have seen in the other cases." -Villefort ceased to contend he only groaned. "He first -kills M. de SaintMeran," repeated the doctor, "then Madame -de SaintMeran, a double fortune to inherit." Villefort -wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "Listen -attentively." -"Alas," stammered Villefort, "I do not lose a single word." -"M. Noirtier," resumed M. d'Avrigny in the same pitiless -tone, "M. Noirtier had once made a will against you -against your family in favor of the poor, in fact M. -Noirtier is spared, because nothing is expected from him. -But he has no sooner destroyed his first will and made a -second, than, for fear he should make a third, he is struck -down. The will was made the day before yesterday, I believe -you see there has been no time lost." -"Oh, mercy, M. d'Avrigny" -"No mercy, sir The physician has a sacred mission on earth -and to fulfil it he begins at the source of life, and goes -down to the mysterious darkness of the tomb. When crime has -been committed, and God, doubtless in anger, turns away his -face, it is for the physician to bring the culprit to -justice." -"Have mercy on my child, sir," murmured Villefort. -"You see it is yourself who have first named her you, her -father." -"Have pity on Valentine Listen it is impossible I would -as willingly accuse myself Valentine, whose heart is pure -as a diamond or a lily." -"No pity, procureur the crime is fragrant. Mademoiselle -herself packed all the medicines which were sent to M. de -SaintMeran and M. de SaintMeran is dead. Mademoiselle de -Villefort prepared all the cooling draughts which Madame de -SaintMeran took, and Madame de SaintMeran is dead. -Mademoiselle de Villefort took from the hands of Barrois, -who was sent out, the lemonade which M. Noirtier had every -morning, and he has escaped by a miracle. Mademoiselle de -Villefort is the culprit she is the poisoner To you, as -the king's attorney, I denounce Mademoiselle de Villefort, -do your duty." -"Doctor, I resist no longer I can no longer defend myself -I believe you but, for pity's sake, spare my life, my -honor" -"M. de Villefort," replied the doctor, with increased -vehemence, "there are occasions when I dispense with all -foolish human circumspection. If your daughter had committed -only one crime, and I saw her meditating another, I would -say "Warn her, punish her, let her pass the remainder of her -life in a convent, weeping and praying.' If she had -committed two crimes, I would say, "Here, M. de Villefort, -is a poison that the prisoner is not acquainted with, one -that has no known antidote, quick as thought, rapid as -lightning, mortal as the thunderbolt give her that poison, -recommending her soul to God, and save your honor and your -life, for it is yours she aims at and I can picture her -approaching your pillow with her hypocritical smiles and her -sweet exhortations. Woe to you, M. de Villefort, if you do -not strike first' This is what I would say had she only -killed two persons but she has seen three deaths, has -contemplated three murdered persons, has knelt by three -corpses To the scaffold with the poisoner to the -scaffold Do you talk of your honor? Do what I tell you, and -immortality awaits you" -Villefort fell on his knees. "Listen," said he "I have not -the strength of mind you have, or rather that which you -would not have, if instead of my daughter Valentine your -daughter Madeleine were concerned." The doctor turned pale. -"Doctor, every son of woman is born to suffer and to die I -am content to suffer and to await death." -"Beware," said M. d'Avrigny, "it may come slowly you will -see it approach after having struck your father, your wife, -perhaps your son." -Villefort, suffocating, pressed the doctor's arm. "Listen," -cried he "pity me help me No, my daughter is not -guilty. If you drag us both before a tribunal I will still -say, "No, my daughter is not guilty there is no crime in -my house. I will not acknowledge a crime in my house for -when crime enters a dwelling, it is like death it does -not come alone.' Listen. What does it signify to you if I am -murdered? Are you my friend? Are you a man? Have you a -heart? No, you are a physician Well, I tell you I will not -drag my daughter before a tribunal, and give her up to the -executioner The bare idea would kill me would drive me -like a madman to dig my heart out with my fingernails And -if you were mistaken, doctor if it were not my daughter -if I should come one day, pale as a spectre, and say to -you, "Assassin, you have killed my child' hold if -that should happen, although I am a Christian, M. d'Avrigny, -I should kill myself." -"Well," said the doctor, after a moment's silence, "I will -wait." Villefort looked at him as if he had doubted his -words. "Only," continued M. d'Avrigny, with a slow and -solemn tone, "if any one falls ill in your house, if you -feel yourself attacked, do not send for me, for I will come -no more. I will consent to share this dreadful secret with -you, but I will not allow shame and remorse to grow and -increase in my conscience, as crime and misery will in your -house." -"Then you abandon me, doctor?" -"Yes, for I can follow you no farther, and I only stop at -the foot of the scaffold. Some further discovery will be -made, which will bring this dreadful tragedy to a close. -Adieu." -"I entreat you, doctor" -"All the horrors that disturb my thoughts make your house -odious and fatal. Adieu, sir." -"One word one single word more, doctor You go, leaving -me in all the horror of my situation, after increasing it by -what you have revealed to me. But what will be reported of -the sudden death of the poor old servant?" -"True," said M. d'Avrigny "we will return." The doctor went -out first, followed by M. de Villefort. The terrified -servants were on the stairs and in the passage where the -doctor would pass. "Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, so -loud that all might hear, "poor Barrois has led too -sedentary a life of late accustomed formerly to ride on -horseback, or in the carriage, to the four corners of -Europe, the monotonous walk around that armchair has killed -him his blood has thickened. He was stout, had a short, -thick neck he was attacked with apoplexy, and I was called -in too late. By the way," added he in a low tone, "take care -to throw away that cup of syrup of violets in the ashes." -The doctor, without shaking hands with Villefort, without -adding a word to what he had said, went out, amid the tears -and lamentations of the whole household. The same evening -all Villefort's servants, who had assembled in the kitchen, -and had a long consultation, came to tell Madame de -Villefort that they wished to leave. No entreaty, no -proposition of increased wages, could induce them to remain -to every argument they replied, "We must go, for death is in -this house." They all left, in spite of prayers and -entreaties, testifying their regret at leaving so good a -master and mistress, and especially Mademoiselle Valentine, -so good, so kind, and so gentle. Villefort looked at -Valentine as they said this. She was in tears, and, strange -as it was, in spite of the emotions he felt at the sight of -these tears, he looked also at Madame de Villefort, and it -appeared to him as if a slight gloomy smile had passed over -her thin lips, like a meteor seen passing inauspiciously -between two clouds in a stormy sky. -Chapter -The Room of the Retired Baker. -The evening of the day on which the Count of Morcerf had -left Danglars' house with feelings of shame and anger at the -rejection of the projected alliance, M. Andrea Cavalcanti, -with curled hair, mustaches in perfect order, and white -gloves which fitted admirably, had entered the courtyard of -the banker's house in La Chaussee d'Antin. He had not been -more than ten minutes in the drawingroom before he drew -Danglars aside into the recess of a bowwindow, and, after -an ingenious preamble, related to him all his anxieties and -cares since his noble father's departure. He acknowledged -the extreme kindness which had been shown him by the -banker's family, in which he had been received as a son, and -where, besides, his warmest affections had found an object -on which to centre in Mademoiselle Danglars. Danglars -listened with the most profound attention he had expected -this declaration for the last two or three days, and when at -last it came his eyes glistened as much as they had lowered -on listening to Morcerf. He would not, however, yield -immediately to the young man's request, but made a few -conscientious objections. "Are you not rather young, M. -Andrea, to think of marrying?" -"I think not, sir," replied M. Cavalcanti "in Italy the -nobility generally marry young. Life is so uncertain, that -we ought to secure happiness while it is within our reach." -"Well, sir," said Danglars, "in case your proposals, which -do me honor, are accepted by my wife and daughter, by whom -shall the preliminary arrangements be settled? So important -a negotiation should, I think, be conducted by the -respective fathers of the young people." -"Sir, my father is a man of great foresight and prudence. -Thinking that I might wish to settle in France, he left me -at his departure, together with the papers establishing my -identity, a letter promising, if he approved of my choice, -, livres per annum from the day I was married. So far -as I can judge, I suppose this to be a quarter of my -father's revenue." -"I," said Danglars, "have always intended giving my daughter -, francs as her dowry she is, besides, my sole -heiress." -"All would then be easily arranged if the baroness and her -daughter are willing. We should command an annuity of -, livres. Supposing, also, I should persuade the -marquis to give me my capital, which is not likely, but -still is possible, we would place these two or three -millions in your hands, whose talent might make it realize -ten per cent." -"I never give more than four per cent, and generally only -three and a half but to my soninlaw I would give five, -and we would share the profit." -"Very good, fatherinlaw," said Cavalcanti, yielding to his -lowborn nature, which would escape sometimes through the -aristocratic gloss with which he sought to conceal it. -Correcting himself immediately, he said, "Excuse me, sir -hope alone makes me almost mad, what will not reality -do?" -"But," said Danglars, who, on his part, did not perceive -how soon the conversation, which was at first disinterested, -was turning to a business transaction, "there is, -doubtless, a part of your fortune your father could not -refuse you?" -"Which?" asked the young man. -"That you inherit from your mother." -"Truly, from my mother, Leonora Corsinari." -"How much may it amount to?" -"Indeed, sir," said Andrea, "I assure you I have never given -the subject a thought, but I suppose it must have been at -least two millions." Danglars felt as much overcome with joy -as the miser who finds a lost treasure, or as the -shipwrecked mariner who feels himself on solid ground -instead of in the abyss which he expected would swallow him -up. -"Well, sir," said Andrea, bowing to the banker respectfully, -"may I hope?" -"You may not only hope," said Danglars, "but consider it a -settled thing, if no obstacle arises on your part." -"I am, indeed, rejoiced," said Andrea. -"But," said Danglars thoughtfully, "how is it that your -patron, M. de Monte Cristo, did not make his proposal for -you?" Andrea blushed imperceptibly. "I have just left the -count, sir," said he "he is, doubtless, a delightful man -but inconceivably peculiar in his ideas. He esteems me -highly. He even told me he had not the slightest doubt that -my father would give me the capital instead of the interest -of my property. He has promised to use his influence to -obtain it for me but he also declared that he never had -taken on himself the responsibility of making proposals for -another, and he never would. I must, however, do him the -justice to add that he assured me if ever he had regretted -the repugnance he felt to such a step it was on this -occasion, because he thought the projected union would be a -happy and suitable one. Besides, if he will do nothing -officially, he will answer any questions you propose to him. -And now," continued he, with one of his most charming -smiles, "having finished talking to the fatherinlaw, I -must address myself to the banker." -"And what may you have to say to him?" said Danglars, -laughing in his turn. -"That the day after tomorrow I shall have to draw upon you -for about four thousand francs but the count, expecting my -bachelor's revenue could not suffice for the coming month's -outlay, has offered me a draft for twenty thousand francs. -It bears his signature, as you see, which is -allsufficient." -"Bring me a million such as that," said Danglars, "I shall -be well pleased," putting the draft in his pocket. "Fix your -own hour for tomorrow, and my cashier shall call on you -with a check for eighty thousand francs." -"At ten o'clock then, if you please I should like it early, -as I am going into the country tomorrow." -"Very well, at ten o'clock you are still at the Hotel des -Princes?" -"Yes." -The following morning, with the banker's usual punctuality, -the eighty thousand francs were placed in the young man's -hands as he was on the point of starting, after having left -two hundred francs for Caderousse. He went out chiefly to -avoid this dangerous enemy, and returned as late as possible -in the evening. But scarcely had be stepped out of his -carriage when the porter met him with a parcel in his hand. -"Sir," said he, "that man has been here." -"What man?" said Andrea carelessly, apparently forgetting -him whom he but too well recollected. -"Him to whom your excellency pays that little annuity." -"Oh," said Andrea, "my father's old servant. Well, you gave -him the two hundred francs I had left for him?" -"Yes, your excellency." Andrea had expressed a wish to be -thus addressed. "But," continued the porter, "he would not -take them." Andrea turned pale, but as it was dark his -pallor was not perceptible. "What? he would not take them?" -said he with slight emotion. -"No, he wished to speak to your excellency I told him you -were gone out, and after some dispute he believed me and -gave me this letter, which he had brought with him already -sealed." -"Give it me," said Andrea, and he read by the light of his -carriagelamp, "You know where I live I expect you -tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." -Andrea examined it carefully, to ascertain if the letter had -been opened, or if any indiscreet eyes had seen its -contents but it was so carefully folded, that no one could -have read it, and the seal was perfect. "Very well," said -he. "Poor man, he is a worthy creature." He left the porter -to ponder on these words, not knowing which most to admire, -the master or the servant. "Take out the horses quickly, and -come up to me," said Andrea to his groom. In two seconds the -young man had reached his room and burnt Caderousse's -letter. The servant entered just as he had finished. "You -are about my height, Pierre," said he. -"I have that honor, your excellency." -"You had a new livery yesterday?" -"Yes, sir." -"I have an engagement with a pretty little girl for this -evening, and do not wish to be known lend me your livery -till tomorrow. I may sleep, perhaps, at an inn." Pierre -obeyed. Five minutes after, Andrea left the hotel, -completely disguised, took a cabriolet, and ordered the -driver to take him to the Cheval Rouge, at Picpus. The next -morning he left that inn as he had left the Hotel des -Princes, without being noticed, walked down the Faubourg St. -Antoine, along the boulevard to Rue Menilmontant, and -stopping at the door of the third house on the left looked -for some one of whom to make inquiry in the porter's -absence. "For whom are you looking, my fine fellow?" asked -the fruiteress on the opposite side. -"Monsieur Pailletin, if you please, my good woman," replied -Andrea. -"A retired baker?" asked the fruiteress. -"Exactly." -"He lives at the end of the yard, on the left, on the third -story." Andrea went as she directed him, and on the third -floor he found a hare's paw, which, by the hasty ringing of -the bell, it was evident he pulled with considerable -illtemper. A moment after Caderousse's face appeared at the -grating in the door. "Ah, you are punctual," said he, as he -drew back the door. -"Confound you and your punctuality" said Andrea, throwing -himself into a chair in a manner which implied that he would -rather have flung it at the head of his host. -"Come, come, my little fellow, don't be angry. See, I have -thought about you look at the good breakfast we are going -to have nothing but what you are fond of." Andrea, indeed, -inhaled the scent of something cooking which was not -unwelcome to him, hungry as he was it was that mixture of -fat and garlic peculiar to provincial kitchens of an -inferior order, added to that of dried fish, and above all, -the pungent smell of musk and cloves. These odors escaped -from two deep dishes which were covered and placed on a -stove, and from a copper pan placed in an old iron pot. In -an adjoining room Andrea saw also a tolerably clean table -prepared for two, two bottles of wine sealed, the one with -green, the other with yellow, a supply of brandy in a -decanter, and a measure of fruit in a cabbageleaf, cleverly -arranged on an earthenware plate. -"What do you think of it, my little fellow?" said -Caderousse. "Ay, that smells good You know I used to be a -famous cook do you recollect how you used to lick your -fingers? You were among the first who tasted any of my -dishes, and I think you relished them tolerably." While -speaking, Caderousse went on peeling a fresh supply of -onions. -"But," said Andrea, illtemperedly, "by my faith, if it was -only to breakfast with you, that you disturbed me, I wish -the devil had taken you" -"My boy," said Caderousse sententiously, "one can talk while -eating. And then, you ungrateful being, you are not pleased -to see an old friend? I am weeping with joy." He was truly -crying, but it would have been difficult to say whether joy -or the onions produced the greatest effect on the lachrymal -glands of the old innkeeper of the PontduGard. "Hold your -tongue, hypocrite," said Andrea "you love me" -"Yes, I do, or may the devil take me. I know it is a -weakness," said Caderousse, "but it overpowers me." -"And yet it has not prevented your sending for me to play me -some trick." -"Come," said Caderousse, wiping his large knife on his -apron, "if I did not like you, do you think I should endure -the wretched life you lead me? Think for a moment. You have -your servant's clothes on you therefore keep a servant I -have none, and am obliged to prepare my own meals. You abuse -my cookery because you dine at the table d'hote of the Hotel -des Princes, or the Cafe de Paris. Well, I too could keep a -servant I too could have a tilbury I too could dine where -I like but why do I not? Because I would not annoy my -little Benedetto. Come, just acknowledge that I could, eh?" -This address was accompanied by a look which was by no means -difficult to understand. "Well," said Andrea, "admitting -your love, why do you want me to breakfast with you?" -"That I may have the pleasure of seeing you, my little -fellow." -"What is the use of seeing me after we have made all our -arrangements?" -"Eh, dear friend," said Caderousse, "are wills ever made -without codicils? But you first came to breakfast, did you -not? Well, sit down, and let us begin with these pilchards, -and this fresh butter which I have put on some vineleaves -to please you, wicked one. Ah, yes you look at my room, my -four straw chairs, my images, three francs each. But what do -you expect? This is not the Hotel des Princes." -"Come, you are growing discontented, you are no longer -happy you, who only wish to live like a retired baker." -Caderousse sighed. "Well, what have you to say? you have -seen your dream realized." -"I can still say it is a dream a retired baker, my poor -Benedetto, is rich he has an annuity." -"Well, you have an annuity." -"I have?" -"Yes, since I bring you your two hundred francs." Caderousse -shrugged his shoulders. "It is humiliating," said he, "thus -to receive money given grudgingly, an uncertain supply -which may soon fail. You see I am obliged to economize, in -case your prosperity should cease. Well, my friend, fortune -is inconstant, as the chaplain of the regiment said. I know -your prosperity is great, you rascal you are to marry the -daughter of Danglars." -"What? of Danglars?" -"Yes, to be sure must I say Baron Danglars? I might as well -say Count Benedetto. He was an old friend of mine and if he -had not so bad a memory he ought to invite me to your -wedding, seeing he came to mine. Yes, yes, to mine gad, he -was not so proud then, he was an underclerk to the good -M. Morrel. I have dined many times with him and the Count of -Morcerf, so you see I have some high connections and were I -to cultivate them a little, we might meet in the same -drawingrooms." -"Come, your jealousy represents everything to you in the -wrong light." -"That is all very fine, Benedetto mio, but I know what I am -saying. Perhaps I may one day put on my best coat, and -presenting myself at the great gate, introduce myself. -Meanwhile let us sit down and eat." Caderousse set the -example and attacked the breakfast with good appetite, -praising each dish he set before his visitor. The latter -seemed to have resigned himself he drew the corks, and -partook largely of the fish with the garlic and fat. "Ah, -mate," said Caderousse, "you are getting on better terms -with your old landlord" -"Faith, yes," replied Andrea, whose hunger prevailed over -every other feeling. -"So you like it, you rogue?" -"So much that I wonder how a man who can cook thus can -complain of hard living." -"Do you see," said Caderousse, "all my happiness is marred -by one thought?" -"What is that?" -"That I am dependent on another, I who have always gained my -own livelihood honestly." -"Do not let that disturb you, I have enough for two." -"No, truly you may believe me if you will at the end of -every month I am tormented by remorse." -"Good Caderousse" -"So much so, that yesterday I would not take the two hundred -francs." -"Yes, you wished to speak to me but was it indeed remorse, -tell me?" -"True remorse and, besides, an idea had struck me." Andrea -shuddered he always did so at Caderousse's ideas. "It is -miserable do you see? always to wait till the end of -the month. "Oh," said Andrea philosophically, determined -to watch his companion narrowly, "does not life pass in -waiting? Do I, for instance, fare better? Well, I wait -patiently, do I not?" -"Yes because instead of expecting two hundred wretched -francs, you expect five or six thousand, perhaps ten, -perhaps even twelve, for you take care not to let any one -know the utmost. Down there, you always had little presents -and Christmasboxes which you tried to hide from your poor -friend Caderousse. Fortunately he is a cunning fellow, that -friend Caderousse." -"There you are beginning again to ramble, to talk again and -again of the past But what is the use of teasing me with -going all over that again?" -"Ah, you are only one and twenty, and can forget the past I -am fifty, and am obliged to recollect it. But let us return -to business." -"Yes." -"I was going to say, if I were in your place" -"Well." -"I would realize" -"How would you realize?" -"I would ask for six months' in advance, under pretence of -being able to purchase a farm, then with my six months I -would decamp." -"Well, well," said Andrea, "that isn't a bad idea." -"My dear friend," said Caderousse, "eat of my bread, and -take my advice you will be none the worse off, physically -or morally." -"But," said Andrea, "why do you not act on the advice you -gave me? Why do you not realize a six months', a year's -advance even, and retire to Brussels? Instead of living the -retired baker, you might live as a bankrupt, using his -privileges that would be very good." -"But how the devil would you have me retire on twelve -hundred francs?" -"Ah, Caderousse," said Andrea, "how covetous you are Two -months ago you were dying with hunger." -"The appetite grows by what it feeds on," said Caderousse, -grinning and showing his teeth, like a monkey laughing or a -tiger growling. "And," added he, biting off with his large -white teeth an enormous mouthful of bread, "I have formed a -plan." Caderousse's plans alarmed Andrea still more than his -ideas ideas were but the germ, the plan was reality. "Let -me see your plan I dare say it is a pretty one." -"Why not? Who formed the plan by which we left the -establishment of M eh? was it not I? and it was no -bad one I believe, since here we are" -"I do not say," replied Andrea, "that you never make a good -one but let us see your plan." -"Well," pursued Caderousse, "can you without expending one -sou, put me in the way of getting fifteen thousand francs? -No, fifteen thousand are not enough, I cannot again -become an honest man with less than thirty thousand francs." -"No," replied Andrea, dryly, "no, I cannot." -"I do not think you understand me," replied Caderousse, -calmly "I said without your laying out a sou." -"Do you want me to commit a robbery, to spoil all my good -fortune and yours with mine and both of us to be -dragged down there again?" -"It would make very little difference to me," said -Caderousse, "if I were retaken, I am a poor creature to live -alone, and sometimes pine for my old comrades not like you, -heartless creature, who would be glad never to see them -again." Andrea did more than tremble this time, he turned -pale. -"Come, Caderousse, no nonsense" said he. -"Don't alarm yourself, my little Benedetto, but just point -out to me some means of gaining those thirty thousand francs -without your assistance, and I will contrive it." -"Well, I'll see I'll try to contrive some way," said -Andrea. -"Meanwhile you will raise my monthly allowance to five -hundred francs, my little fellow? I have a fancy, and mean -to get a housekeeper." -"Well, you shall have your five hundred francs," said -Andrea "but it is very hard for me, my poor Caderousse -you take advantage" -"Bah," said Caderousse, "when you have access to countless -stores." One would have said Andrea anticipated his -companion's words, so did his eye flash like lightning, but -it was but for a moment. "True," he replied, "and my -protector is very kind." -"That dear protector," said Caderousse "and how much does -he give you monthly?" -"Five thousand francs." -"As many thousands as you give me hundreds Truly, it is -only bastards who are thus fortunate. Five thousand francs -per month What the devil can you do with all that?" -"Oh, it is no trouble to spend that and I am like you, I -want capital." -"Capital? yes I understand every one would like -capital." -"Well, and I shall get it." -"Who will give it to you your prince?" -"Yes, my prince. But unfortunately I must wait." -"You must wait for what?" asked Caderousse. -"For his death." -"The death of your prince?" -"Yes." -"How so?" -"Because he has made his will in my favor." -"Indeed?" -"On my honor." -"For how much?" -"For five hundred thousand." -"Only that? It's little enough." -"But so it is." -"No it cannot be" -"Are you my friend, Caderousse?" -"Yes, in life or death." -"Well, I will tell you a secret." -"What is it?" -"But remember" -"Ah, pardieu, mute as a carp." -"Well, I think" Andrea stopped and looked around. -"You think? Do not fear pardieu, we are alone." -"I think I have discovered my father." -"Your true father?" -"Yes." -"Not old Cavalcanti?" -"No, for he has gone again the true one, as you say." -"And that father is" -"Well, Caderousse, it is Monte Cristo." -"Bah" -"Yes, you understand, that explains all. He cannot -acknowledge me openly, it appears, but he does it through M. -Cavalcanti, and gives him fifty thousand francs for it." -"Fifty thousand francs for being your father? I would have -done it for half that, for twenty thousand, for fifteen -thousand why did you not think of me, ungrateful man?" -"Did I know anything about it, when it was all done when I -was down there?" -"Ah, truly? And you say that by his will" -"He leaves me five hundred thousand livres." -"Are you sure of it?" -"He showed it me but that is not all there is a codicil, -as I said just now." -"Probably." -"And in that codicil he acknowledges me." -"Oh, the good father, the brave father, the very honest -father" said Caderousse, twirling a plate in the air -between his two hands. -"Now say if I conceal anything from you?" -"No, and your confidence makes you honorable in my opinion -and your princely father, is he rich, very rich?" -"Yes, he is that he does not himself know the amount of his -fortune." -"Is it possible?" -"It is evident enough to me, who am always at his house. The -other day a banker's clerk brought him fifty thousand francs -in a portfolio about the size of your plate yesterday his -banker brought him a hundred thousand francs in gold." -Caderousse was filled with wonder the young man's words -sounded to him like metal, and he thought he could hear the -rushing of cascades of louis. "And you go into that house?" -cried he briskly. -"When I like." -Caderousse was thoughtful for a moment. It was easy to -perceive he was revolving some unfortunate idea in his mind. -Then suddenly, "How I should like to see all that," cried -he "how beautiful it must be" -"It is, in fact, magnificent," said Andrea. -"And does he not live in the ChampsElysees?" -"Yes, No. ." -"Ah," said Caderousse, "No. ." -"Yes, a fine house standing alone, between a courtyard and -a garden, you must know it." -"Possibly but it is not the exterior I care for, it is the -interior. What beautiful furniture there must be in it" -"Have you ever seen the Tuileries?" -"No." -"Well, it surpasses that." -"It must be worth one's while to stoop, Andrea, when that -good M. Monte Cristo lets fall his purse." -"It is not worth while to wait for that," said Andrea -"money is as plentiful in that house as fruit in an -orchard." -"But you should take me there one day with you." -"How can I? On what plea?" -"You are right but you have made my mouth water. I must -absolutely see it I shall find a way." -"No nonsense, Caderousse" -"I will offer myself as floorpolisher." -"The rooms are all carpeted." -"Well, then, I must be contented to imagine it." -"That is the best plan, believe me." -"Try, at least, to give me an idea of what it is." -"How can I?" -"Nothing is easier. Is it large?" -"Middling." -"How is it arranged?" -"Faith, I should require pen, ink, and paper to make a -plan." -"They are all here," said Caderousse, briskly. He fetched -from an old secretary a sheet of white paper and pen and -ink. "Here," said Caderousse, "draw me all that on the -paper, my boy." Andrea took the pen with an imperceptible -smile and began. "The house, as I said, is between the court -and the garden in this way, do you see?" Andrea drew the -garden, the court and the house. -"High walls?" -"Not more than eight or ten feet." -"That is not prudent," said Caderousse. -"In the court are orangetrees in pots, turf, and clumps of -flowers." -"And no steeltraps?" -"No." -"The stables?" -"Are on either side of the gate, which you see there." And -Andrea continued his plan. -"Let us see the ground floor," said Caderousse. -"On the groundfloor, diningroom, two drawingrooms, -billiardroom, staircase in the hall, and a little back -staircase." -"Windows?" -"Magnificent windows, so beautiful, so large, that I believe -a man of your size should pass through each frame." -"Why the devil have they any stairs with such windows?" -"Luxury has everything." -"But shutters?" -"Yes, but they are never used. That Count of Monte Cristo is -an original, who loves to look at the sky even at night." -"And where do the servants sleep?" -"Oh, they have a house to themselves. Picture to yourself a -pretty coachhouse at the righthand side where the ladders -are kept. Well, over that coachhouse are the servants' -rooms, with bells corresponding with the different -apartments." -"Ah, diable bells did you say?" -"What do you mean?" -"Oh. nothing I only say they cost a load of money to hang, -and what is the use of them, I should like to know?" -"There used to be a dog let loose in the yard at night, but -it has been taken to the house at Auteuil, to that you went -to, you know." -"Yes." -"I was saying to him only yesterday, "You are imprudent, -Monsieur Count for when you go to Auteuil and take your -servants the house is left unprotected.' Well,' said he, -"what next?' "Well, next, some day you will be robbed.'" -"What did he answer?" -"He quietly said, "What do I care if I am?'" -"Andrea, he has some secretary with a spring." -"How do you know?" -"Yes, which catches the thief in a trap and plays a tune. I -was told there were such at the last exhibition." -"He has simply a mahogany secretary, in which the key is -always kept." -"And he is not robbed?" -"No his servants are all devoted to him." -"There ought to be some money in that secretary?" -"There may be. No one knows what there is." -"And where is it?" -"On the first floor." -"Sketch me the plan of that floor, as you have done of the -ground floor, my boy." -"That is very simple." Andrea took the pen. "On the first -story, do you see, there is the anteroom and the -drawingroom to the right of the drawingroom, a library -and a study to the left, a bedroom and a dressingroom. The -famous secretary is in the dressingroom." -"Is there a window in the dressingroom?" -"Two, one here and one there." Andrea sketched two -windows in the room, which formed an angle on the plan, and -appeared as a small square added to the rectangle of the -bedroom. Caderousse became thoughtful. "Does he often go to -Auteuil?" added he. -"Two or three times a week. Tomorrow, for instance, he is -going to spend the day and night there." -"Are you sure of it?" -"He has invited me to dine there." -"There's a life for you," said Caderousse "a town house and -a country house." -"That is what it is to be rich." -"And shall you dine there?" -"Probably." -"When you dine there, do you sleep there?" -"If I like I am at home there." Caderousse looked at the -young man, as if to get at the truth from the bottom of his -heart. But Andrea drew a cigarcase from his pocket, took a -havana, quietly lit it, and began smoking. "When do you want -your twelve hundred francs?" said he to Caderousse. -"Now, if you have them." Andrea took five and twenty louis -from his pocket. -"Yellow boys?" said Caderousse "no, I thank you." -"Oh, you despise them." -"On the contrary, I esteem them, but will not have them." -"You can change them, idiot gold is worth five sous." -"Exactly and he who changes them will follow friend -Caderousse, lay hands on him, and demand what farmers pay -him their rent in gold. No nonsense, my good fellow silver -simply, round coins with the head of some monarch or other -on them. Anybody may possess a fivefranc piece." -"But do you suppose I carry five hundred francs about with -me? I should want a porter." -"Well, leave them with your porter he is to be trusted. I -will call for them." -"Today?" -"No, tomorrow I shall not have time to day." -"Well, tomorrow I will leave them when I go to Auteuil." -"May I depend on it?" -"Certainly." -"Because I shall secure my housekeeper on the strength of -it." -"Now see here, will that be all? Eh? And will you not -torment me any more?" -"Never." Caderousse had become so gloomy that Andrea feared -he should be obliged to notice the change. He redoubled his -gayety and carelessness. "How sprightly you are," said -Caderousse "One would say you were already in possession of -your property." -"No, unfortunately but when I do obtain it" -"Well?" -"I shall remember old friends, I can tell you that." -"Yes, since you have such a good memory." -"What do you want? It looks as if you were trying to fleece -me?" -"I? What an idea I, who am going to give you another piece -of good advice." -"What is it?" -"To leave behind you the diamond you have on your finger. We -shall both get into trouble. You will ruin both yourself and -me by your folly." -"How so?" said Andrea. -"How? You put on a livery, you disguise yourself as a -servant, and yet keep a diamond on your finger worth four or -five thousand francs." -"You guess well." -"I know something of diamonds I have had some." -"You do well to boast of it," said Andrea, who, without -becoming angry, as Caderousse feared, at this new extortion, -quietly resigned the ring. Caderousse looked so closely at -it that Andrea well knew that he was examining to see if all -the edges were perfect. -"It is a false diamond," said Caderousse. -"You are joking now," replied Andrea. -"Do not be angry, we can try it." Caderousse went to the -window, touched the glass with it, and found it would cut. -"Confiteor," said Caderousse, putting the diamond on his -little finger "I was mistaken but those thieves of -jewellers imitate so well that it is no longer worth while -to rob a jeweller's shop it is another branch of industry -paralyzed." -"Have you finished?" said Andrea, "do you want anything -more? will you have my waistcoat or my hat? Make free, -now you have begun." -"No you are, after all, a good companion I will not detain -you, and will try to cure myself of my ambition." -"But take care the same thing does not happen to you in -selling the diamond you feared with the gold." -"I shall not sell it do not fear." -"Not at least till the day after tomorrow," thought the -young man. -"Happy rogue," said Caderousse "you are going to find your -servants, your horses, your carriage, and your betrothed" -"Yes," said Andrea. -"Well, I hope you will make a handsome weddingpresent the -day you marry Mademoiselle Danglars." -"I have already told you it is a fancy you have taken in -your head." -"What fortune has she?" -"But I tell you" -"A million?" Andrea shrugged his shoulders. -"Let it be a million," said Caderousse "you can never have -so much as I wish you." -"Thank you," said the young man. -"Oh, I wish it you with all my heart" added Caderousse with -his hoarse laugh. "Stop, let me show you the way." -"It is not worth while." -"Yes, it is." -"Why?" -"Because there is a little secret, a precaution I thought it -desirable to take, one of Huret Fitchet's locks, revised -and improved by Gaspard Caderousse I will manufacture you a -similar one when you are a capitalist." -"Thank you," said Andrea "I will let you know a week -beforehand." They parted. Caderousse remained on the landing -until he had not only seen Andrea go down the three stories, -but also cross the court. Then he returned hastily, shut his -door carefully, and began to study, like a clever architect, -the plan Andrea had left him. -"Dear Benedetto," said he, "I think he will not be sorry to -inherit his fortune, and he who hastens the day when he can -touch his five hundred thousand will not be his worst -friend." -Chapter -The Burglary. -The day following that on which the conversation we have -related took place, the Count of Monte Cristo set out for -Auteuil, accompanied by Ali and several attendants, and also -taking with him some horses whose qualities he was desirous -of ascertaining. He was induced to undertake this journey, -of which the day before he had not even thought and which -had not occurred to Andrea either, by the arrival of -Bertuccio from Normandy with intelligence respecting the -house and sloop. The house was ready, and the sloop which -had arrived a week before lay at anchor in a small creek -with her crew of six men, who had observed all the requisite -formalities and were ready again to put to sea. -The count praised Bertuccio's zeal, and ordered him to -prepare for a speedy departure, as his stay in France would -not be prolonged more than a month. "Now," said he, "I may -require to go in one night from Paris to Treport let eight -fresh horses be in readiness on the road, which will enable -me to go fifty leagues in ten hours." -"Your highness had already expressed that wish," said -Bertuccio, "and the horses are ready. I have bought them, -and stationed them myself at the most desirable posts, that -is, in villages, where no one generally stops." -"That's well," said Monte Cristo "I remain here a day or -two arrange accordingly." As Bertuccio was leaving the -room to give the requisite orders, Baptistin opened the -door he held a letter on a silver waiter. -"What are you doing here?" asked the count, seeing him -covered with dust "I did not send for you, I think?" -Baptistin, without answering, approached the count, and -presented the letter. "Important and urgent," said he. The -count opened the letter, and read -"M. de Monte Cristo is apprised that this night a man will -enter his house in the ChampsElysees with the intention of -carrying off some papers supposed to be in the secretary in -the dressingroom. The count's wellknown courage will -render unnecessary the aid of the police, whose interference -might seriously affect him who sends this advice. The count, -by any opening from the bedroom, or by concealing himself in -the dressingroom, would be able to defend his property -himself. Many attendants or apparent precautions would -prevent the villain from the attempt, and M. de Monte Cristo -would lose the opportunity of discovering an enemy whom -chance has revealed to him who now sends this warning to the -count, a warning he might not be able to send another -time, if this first attempt should fail and another be -made." -The count's first idea was that this was an artifice a -gross deception, to draw his attention from a minor danger -in order to expose him to a greater. He was on the point of -sending the letter to the commissary of police, -notwithstanding the advice of his anonymous friend, or -perhaps because of that advice, when suddenly the idea -occurred to him that it might be some personal enemy, whom -he alone should recognize and over whom, if such were the -case, he alone would gain any advantage, as Fiesco had done -over the Moor who would have killed him. We know the Count's -vigorous and daring mind, denying anything to be impossible, -with that energy which marks the great man. From his past -life, from his resolution to shrink from nothing, the count -had acquired an inconceivable relish for the contests in -which he had engaged, sometimes against nature, that is to -say, against God, and sometimes against the world, that is, -against the devil. - The Genoese conspirator. -"They do not want my papers," said Monte Cristo, "they want -to kill me they are no robbers, but assassins. I will not -allow the prefect of police to interfere with my private -affairs. I am rich enough, forsooth, to distribute his -authority on this occasion." The count recalled Baptistin, -who had left the room after delivering the letter. "Return -to Paris," said he "assemble the servants who remain there. -I want all my household at Auteuil." -"But will no one remain in the house, my lord?" asked -Baptistin. -"Yes, the porter." -"My lord will remember that the lodge is at a distance from -the house." -"Well?" -"The house might be stripped without his hearing the least -noise." -"By whom?" -"By thieves." -"You are a fool, M. Baptistin. Thieves might strip the house -it would annoy me less than to be disobeyed." Baptistin -bowed. -"You understand me?" said the count. "Bring your comrades -here, one and all but let everything remain as usual, only -close the shutters of the ground floor." -"And those of the second floor?" -"You know they are never closed. Go" -The count signified his intention of dining alone, and that -no one but Ali should attend him. Having dined with his -usual tranquillity and moderation, the count, making a -signal to Ali to follow him, went out by the sidegate and -on reaching the Bois de Boulogne turned, apparently without -design towards Paris and at twilight found himself opposite -his house in the ChampsElysees. All was dark one solitary, -feeble light was burning in the porter's lodge, about forty -paces distant from the house, as Baptistin had said. Monte -Cristo leaned against a tree, and with that scrutinizing -glance which was so rarely deceived, looked up and down the -avenue, examined the passersby, and carefully looked down -the neighboring streets, to see that no one was concealed. -Ten minutes passed thus, and he was convinced that no one -was watching him. He hastened to the sidedoor with Ali, -entered hurriedly, and by the servants' staircase, of which -he had the key, gained his bedroom without opening or -disarranging a single curtain, without even the porter -having the slightest suspicion that the house, which he -supposed empty, contained its chief occupant. -Arrived in his bedroom, the count motioned to Ali to stop -then he passed into the dressingroom, which he examined. -Everything appeared as usual the precious secretary in -its place, and the key in the secretary. He double locked -it, took the key, returned to the bedroom door, removed the -double staple of the bolt, and went in. Meanwhile Ali had -procured the arms the count required namely, a short -carbine and a pair of doublebarrelled pistols, with which -as sure an aim might be taken as with a singlebarrelled -one. Thus armed, the count held the lives of five men in his -hands. It was about halfpast nine. The count and Ali ate in -haste a crust of bread and drank a glass of Spanish wine -then Monte Cristo slipped aside one of the movable panels, -which enabled him to see into the adjoining room. He had -within his reach his pistols and carbine, and Ali, standing -near him, held one of the small Arabian hatchets, whose form -has not varied since the Crusades. Through one of the -windows of the bedroom, on a line with that in the -dressingroom, the count could see into the street. -Two hours passed thus. It was intensely dark still Ali, -thanks to his wild nature, and the count, thanks doubtless -to his long confinement, could distinguish in the darkness -the slightest movement of the trees. The little light in the -lodge had long been extinct. It might be expected that the -attack, if indeed an attack was projected, would be made -from the staircase of the ground floor, and not from a -window in Monte Cristo's opinion, the villains sought his -life, not his money. It would be his bedroom they would -attack, and they must reach it by the back staircase, or by -the window in the dressingroom. The clock of the Invalides -struck a quarter to twelve the west wind bore on its -moistened gusts the doleful vibration of the three strokes. -As the last stroke died away, the count thought he heard a -slight noise in the dressingroom this first sound, or -rather this first grinding, was followed by a second, then a -third at the fourth, the count knew what to expect. A firm -and wellpractised hand was engaged in cutting the four -sides of a pane of glass with a diamond. The count felt his -heart beat more rapidly. Inured as men may be to danger, -forewarned as they may be of peril, they understand, by the -fluttering of the heart and the shuddering of the frame, the -enormous difference between a dream and a reality, between -the project and the execution. However, Monte Cristo only -made a sign to apprise Ali, who, understanding that danger -was approaching from the other side, drew nearer to his -master. Monte Cristo was eager to ascertain the strength and -number of his enemies. -The window whence the noise proceeded was opposite the -opening by which the count could see into the dressingroom. -He fixed his eyes on that window he distinguished a -shadow in the darkness then one of the panes became quite -opaque, as if a sheet of paper were stuck on the outside, -then the square cracked without falling. Through the opening -an arm was passed to find the fastening, then a second the -window turned on its hinges, and a man entered. He was -alone. -"That's a daring rascal," whispered the count. -At that moment Ali touched him slightly on the shoulder. He -turned Ali pointed to the window of the room in which they -were, facing the street. "I see" said he, "there are two of -them one does the work while the other stands guard." He -made a sign to Ali not to lose sight of the man in the -street, and turned to the one in the dressingroom. -The glasscutter had entered, and was feeling his way, his -arms stretched out before him. At last he appeared to have -made himself familiar with his surroundings. There were two -doors he bolted them both. -When he drew near to the bedroom door, Monte Cristo expected -that he was coming in, and raised one of his pistols but he -simply heard the sound of the bolts sliding in their copper -rings. It was only a precaution. The nocturnal visitor, -ignorant of the fact that the count had removed the staples, -might now think himself at home, and pursue his purpose with -full security. Alone and free to act as he wished, the man -then drew from his pocket something which the count could -not discern, placed it on a stand, then went straight to the -secretary, felt the lock, and contrary to his expectation -found that the key was missing. But the glasscutter was a -prudent man who had provided for all emergencies. The count -soon heard the rattling of a bunch of skeleton keys, such as -the locksmith brings when called to force a lock, and which -thieves call nightingales, doubtless from the music of their -nightly song when they grind against the bolt. "Ah, ha," -whispered Monte Cristo with a smile of disappointment, "he -is only a thief." -But the man in the dark could not find the right key. He -reached the instrument he had placed on the stand, touched a -spring, and immediately a pale light, just bright enough to -render objects distinct, was reflected on his hands and -countenance. "By heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, starting -back, "it is" -Ali raised his hatchet. "Don't stir," whispered Monte -Cristo, "and put down your hatchet we shall require no -arms." Then he added some words in a low tone, for the -exclamation which surprise had drawn from the count, faint -as it had been, had startled the man who remained in the -pose of the old knifegrinder. It was an order the count had -just given, for immediately Ali went noiselessly, and -returned, bearing a black dress and a threecornered hat. -Meanwhile Monte Cristo had rapidly taken off his greatcoat, -waistcoat, and shirt, and one might distinguish by the -glimmering through the open panel that he wore a pliant -tunic of steel mail, of which the last in France, where -daggers are no longer dreaded, was worn by King Louis XVI., -who feared the dagger at his breast, and whose head was -cleft with a hatchet. The tunic soon disappeared under a -long cassock, as did his hair under a priest's wig the -threecornered hat over this effectually transformed the -count into an abbe. -The man, hearing nothing more, stood erect, and while Monte -Cristo was completing his disguise had advanced straight to -the secretary, whose lock was beginning to crack under his -nightingale. -"Try again," whispered the count, who depended on the secret -spring, which was unknown to the picklock, clever as he -might be "try again, you have a few minutes' work there." -And he advanced to the window. The man whom he had seen -seated on a fence had got down, and was still pacing the -street but, strange as it appeared, he cared not for those -who might pass from the avenue of the ChampsElysees or by -the Faubourg St. Honore his attention was engrossed with -what was passing at the count's, and his only aim appeared -to be to discern every movement in the dressingroom. -Monte Cristo suddenly struck his finger on his forehead and -a smile passed over his lips then drawing near to Ali, he -whispered, -"Remain here, concealed in the dark, and whatever noise you -hear, whatever passes, only come in or show yourself if I -call you." Ali bowed in token of strict obedience. Monte -Cristo then drew a lighted taper from a closet, and when the -thief was deeply engaged with his lock, silently opened the -door, taking care that the light should shine directly on -his face. The door opened so quietly that the thief heard no -sound but, to his astonishment, the room was suddenly -illuminated. He turned. -"Ah, goodevening, my dear M. Caderousse," said Monte -Cristo "what are you doing here, at such an hour?" -"The Abbe Busoni" exclaimed Caderousse and, not knowing -how this strange apparition could have entered when he had -bolted the doors, he let fall his bunch of keys, and -remained motionless and stupefied. The count placed himself -between Caderousse and the window, thus cutting off from the -thief his only chance of retreat. "The Abbe Busoni" -repeated Caderousse, fixing his haggard gaze on the count. -"Yes, undoubtedly, the Abbe Busoni himself," replied Monte -Cristo. "And I am very glad you recognize me, dear M. -Caderousse it proves you have a good memory, for it must be -about ten years since we last met." This calmness of Busoni, -combined with his irony and boldness, staggered Caderousse. -"The abbe, the abbe" murmured he, clinching his fists, and -his teeth chattering. -"So you would rob the Count of Monte Cristo?" continued the -false abbe. -"Reverend sir," murmured Caderousse, seeking to regain the -window, which the count pitilessly blocked "reverend sir, -I don't know believe me I take my oath" -"A pane of glass out," continued the count, "a dark lantern, -a bunch of false keys, a secretary half forced it is -tolerably evident" -Caderousse was choking he looked around for some corner to -hide in, some way of escape. -"Come, come," continued the count, "I see you are still the -same, an assassin." -"Reverend sir, since you know everything, you know it was -not I it was La Carconte that was proved at the trial, -since I was only condemned to the galleys." -"Is your time, then, expired, since I find you in a fair way -to return there?" -"No, reverend sir I have been liberated by some one." -"That some one has done society a great kindness." -"Ah," said Caderousse, "I had promised" -"And you are breaking your promise" interrupted Monte -Cristo. -"Alas, yes" said Caderousse very uneasily. -"A bad relapse, that will lead you, if I mistake not, to the -Place de Greve. So much the worse, so much the worse -diavolo, as they say in my country." -"Reverend sir, I am impelled" -"Every criminal says the same thing." -"Poverty" -"Pshaw" said Busoni disdainfully "poverty may make a man -beg, steal a loaf of bread at a baker's door, but not cause -him to open a secretary in a house supposed to be inhabited. -And when the jeweller Johannes had just paid you , -francs for the diamond I had given you, and you killed him -to get the diamond and the money both, was that also -poverty?" -"Pardon, reverend sir," said Caderousse "you have saved my -life once, save me again" -"That is but poor encouragement." -"Are you alone, reverend sir, or have you there soldiers -ready to seize me?" -"I am alone," said the abbe, "and I will again have pity on -you, and will let you escape, at the risk of the fresh -miseries my weakness may lead to, if you tell me the truth." -"Ah, reverend sir," cried Caderousse, clasping his hands, -and drawing nearer to Monte Cristo, "I may indeed say you -are my deliverer" -"You mean to say you have been freed from confinement?" -"Yes, that is true, reverend sir." -"Who was your liberator?" -"An Englishman." -"What was his name?" -"Lord Wilmore." -"I know him I shall know if you lie." -"Ah, reverend sir, I tell you the simple truth." -"Was this Englishman protecting you?" -"No, not me, but a young Corsican, my companion." -"What was this young Corsican's name?" -"Benedetto." -"Is that his Christian name?" -"He had no other he was a foundling." -"Then this young man escaped with you?" -"He did." -"In what way?" -"We were working at St. Mandrier, near Toulon. Do you know -St. Mandrier?" -"I do." -"In the hour of rest, between noon and one o'clock" -"Galleyslaves having a nap after dinner We may well pity -the poor fellows" said the abbe. -"Nay," said Caderousse, "one can't always work one is not -a dog." -"So much the better for the dogs," said Monte Cristo. -"While the rest slept, then, we went away a short distance -we severed our fetters with a file the Englishman had given -us, and swam away." -"And what is become of this Benedetto?" -"I don't know." -"You ought to know." -"No, in truth we parted at Hyeres." And, to give more -weight to his protestation, Caderousse advanced another step -towards the abbe, who remained motionless in his place, as -calm as ever, and pursuing his interrogation. "You lie," -said the Abbe Busoni, with a tone of irresistible authority. -"Reverend sir" -"You lie This man is still your friend, and you, perhaps, -make use of him as your accomplice." -"Oh, reverend sir" -"Since you left Toulon what have you lived on? Answer me" -"On what I could get." -"You lie," repeated the abbe a third time, with a still more -imperative tone. Caderousse, terrified, looked at the count. -"You have lived on the money he has given you." -"True," said Caderousse "Benedetto has become the son of a -great lord." -"How can he be the son of a great lord?" -"A natural son." -"And what is that great lord's name?" -"The Count of Monte Cristo, the very same in whose house we -are." -"Benedetto the count's son?" replied Monte Cristo, -astonished in his turn. -"Well, I should think so, since the count has found him a -false father since the count gives him four thousand -francs a month, and leaves him , francs in his will." -"Ah, yes," said the factitious abbe, who began to -understand "and what name does the young man bear -meanwhile?" -"Andrea Cavalcanti." -"Is it, then, that young man whom my friend the Count of -Monte Cristo has received into his house, and who is going -to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" -"Exactly." -"And you suffer that, you wretch you, who know his life -and his crime?" -"Why should I stand in a comrade's way?" said Caderousse. -"You are right it is not you who should apprise M. -Danglars, it is I." -"Do not do so, reverend sir." -"Why not?" -"Because you would bring us to ruin." -"And you think that to save such villains as you I will -become an abettor of their plot, an accomplice in their -crimes?" -"Reverend sir," said Caderousse, drawing still nearer. -"I will expose all." -"To whom?" -"To M. Danglars." -"By heaven" cried Caderousse, drawing from his waistcoat an -open knife, and striking the count in the breast, "you shall -disclose nothing, reverend sir" To Caderousse's great -astonishment, the knife, instead of piercing the count's -breast, flew back blunted. At the same moment the count -seized with his left hand the assassin's wrist, and wrung it -with such strength that the knife fell from his stiffened -fingers, and Caderousse uttered a cry of pain. But the -count, disregarding his cry, continued to wring the bandit's -wrist, until, his arm being dislocated, he fell first on his -knees, then flat on the floor. The count then placed his -foot on his head, saying, "I know not what restrains me from -crushing thy skull, rascal." -"Ah, mercy mercy" cried Caderousse. The count withdrew -his foot. "Rise" said he. Caderousse rose. -"What a wrist you have, reverend sir" said Caderousse. -stroking his arm, all bruised by the fleshy pincers which -had held it "what a wrist" -"Silence God gives me strength to overcome a wild beast -like you in the name of that God I act, remember that, -wretch, and to spare thee at this moment is still serving -him." -"Oh" said Caderousse, groaning with pain. -"Take this pen and paper, and write what I dictate." -"I don't know how to write, reverend sir." -"You lie Take this pen, and write" Caderousse, awed by the -superior power of the abbe, sat down and wrote -Sir, The man whom you are receiving at your house, and to -whom you intend to marry your daughter, is a felon who -escaped with me from confinement at Toulon. He was No. , -and I No. . He was called Benedetto, but he is ignorant of -his real name, having never known his parents. -"Sign it" continued the count. -"But would you ruin me?" -"If I sought your ruin, fool, I should drag you to the first -guardhouse besides, when that note is delivered, in all -probability you will have no more to fear. Sign it, then" -Caderousse signed it. "The address, "To monsieur the Baron -Danglars, banker, Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin.'" Caderousse -wrote the address. The abbe took the note. "Now," said he, -"that suffices begone" -"Which way?" -"The way you came." -"You wish me to get out at that window?" -"You got in very well." -"Oh, you have some design against me, reverend sir." -"Idiot what design can I have?" -"Why, then, not let me out by the door?" -"What would be the advantage of waking the porter?" -"Ah, reverend sir, tell me, do you wish me dead?" -"I wish what God wills." -"But swear that you will not strike me as I go down." -"Cowardly fool" -"What do you intend doing with me?" -"I ask you what can I do? I have tried to make you a happy -man, and you have turned out a murderer." -"Oh, monsieur," said Caderousse, "make one more attempt -try me once more" -"I will," said the count. "Listen you know if I may be -relied on." -"Yes," said Caderousse. -"If you arrive safely at home" -"What have I to fear, except from you?" -"If you reach your home safely, leave Paris, leave France, -and wherever you may be, so long as you conduct yourself -well, I will send you a small annuity for, if you return -home safely, then" -"Then?" asked Caderousse, shuddering. -"Then I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will -forgive you too." -"As true as I am a Christian," stammered Caderousse, "you -will make me die of fright" -"Now begone," said the count, pointing to the window. -Caderousse, scarcely yet relying on this promise, put his -legs out of the window and stood on the ladder. "Now go -down," said the abbe, folding his arms. Understanding he had -nothing more to fear from him, Caderousse began to go down. -Then the count brought the taper to the window, that it -might be seen in the ChampsElysees that a man was getting -out of the window while another held a light. -"What are you doing, reverend sir? Suppose a watchman should -pass?" And he blew out the light. He then descended, but it -was only when he felt his foot touch the ground that he was -satisfied of his safety. -Monte Cristo returned to his bedroom, and, glancing rapidly -from the garden to the street, he saw first Caderousse, who -after walking to the end of the garden, fixed his ladder -against the wall at a different part from where he came in. -The count then looking over into the street, saw the man who -appeared to be waiting run in the same direction, and place -himself against the angle of the wall where Caderousse would -come over. Caderousse climbed the ladder slowly, and looked -over the coping to see if the street was quiet. No one could -be seen or heard. The clock of the Invalides struck one. -Then Caderousse sat astride the coping, and drawing up his -ladder passed it over the wall then he began to descend, or -rather to slide down by the two stanchions, which he did -with an ease which proved how accustomed he was to the -exercise. But, once started, he could not stop. In vain did -he see a man start from the shadow when he was halfway down -in vain did he see an arm raised as he touched the -ground. Before he could defend himself that arm struck him -so violently in the back that he let go the ladder, crying, -"Help" A second blow struck him almost immediately in the -side, and he fell, calling, "Help, murder" Then, as he -rolled on the ground, his adversary seized him by the hair, -and struck him a third blow in the chest. This time -Caderousse endeavored to call again, but he could only utter -a groan, and he shuddered as the blood flowed from his three -wounds. The assassin, finding that he no longer cried out, -lifted his head up by the hair his eyes were closed, and -the mouth was distorted. The murderer, supposing him dead, -let fall his head and disappeared. Then Caderousse, feeling -that he was leaving him, raised himself on his elbow, and -with a dying voice cried with great effort, "Murder I am -dying Help, reverend sir, help" -This mournful appeal pierced the darkness. The door of the -backstaircase opened, then the sidegate of the garden, and -Ali and his master were on the spot with lights. -Chapter -The Hand of God. -Caderousse continued to call piteously, "Help, reverend sir, -help" -"What is the matter?" asked Monte Cristo. -"Help," cried Caderousse "I am murdered" -"We are here take courage." -"Ah, it's all over You are come too late you are come to -see me die. What blows, what blood" He fainted. Ali and his -master conveyed the wounded man into a room. Monte Cristo -motioned to Ali to undress him, and he then examined his -dreadful wounds. "My God" he exclaimed, "thy vengeance is -sometimes delayed, but only that it may fall the more -effectually." Ali looked at his master for further -instructions. "Bring here immediately the king's attorney, -M. de Villefort, who lives in the Faubourg St. Honore. As -you pass the lodge, wake the porter, and send him for a -surgeon." Ali obeyed, leaving the abbe alone with -Caderousse, who had not yet revived. -When the wretched man again opened his eyes, the count -looked at him with a mournful expression of pity, and his -lips moved as if in prayer. "A surgeon, reverend sir a -surgeon" said Caderousse. -"I have sent for one," replied the abbe. -"I know he cannot save my life, but he may strengthen me to -give my evidence." -"Against whom?" -"Against my murderer." -"Did you recognize him?" -"Yes it was Benedetto." -"The young Corsican?" -"Himself." -"Your comrade?" -"Yes. After giving me the plan of this house, doubtless -hoping I should kill the count and he thus become his heir, -or that the count would kill me and I should be out of his -way, he waylaid me, and has murdered me." -"I have also sent for the procureur." -"He will not come in time I feel my life fast ebbing." -"Wait a moment," said Monte Cristo. He left the room, and -returned in five minutes with a phial. The dying man's eyes -were all the time riveted on the door, through which he -hoped succor would arrive. "Hasten, reverend sir, hasten I -shall faint again" Monte Cristo approached, and dropped on -his purple lips three or four drops of the contents of the -phial. Caderousse drew a deep breath. "Oh," said he, "that -is life to me more, more" -"Two drops more would kill you," replied the abbe. -"Oh, send for some one to whom I can denounce the wretch" -"Shall I write your deposition? You can sign it." -"Yes yes," said Caderousse and his eyes glistened at the -thought of this posthumous revenge. Monte Cristo wrote -"I die, murdered by the Corsican Benedetto, my comrade in -the galleys at Toulouse, No. ." -"Quick, quick" said Caderousse, "or I shall be unable to -sign it." -Monte Cristo gave the pen to Caderousse, who collected all -his strength, signed it, and fell back on his bed, saying -"You will relate all the rest, reverend sir you will say he -calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti. He lodges at the Hotel des -Princes. Oh, I am dying" He again fainted. The abbe made -him smell the contents of the phial, and he again opened his -eyes. His desire for revenge had not forsaken him. -"Ah, you will tell all I have said, will you not, reverend -sir?" -"Yes, and much more." -"What more will you say?" -"I will say he had doubtless given you the plan of this -house, in the hope the count would kill you. I will say, -likewise, he had apprised the count, by a note, of your -intention, and, the count being absent, I read the note and -sat up to await you." -"And he will be guillotined, will be not?" said Caderousse. -"Promise me that, and I will die with that hope." -"I will say," continued the count, "that he followed and -watched you the whole time, and when he saw you leave the -house, ran to the angle of the wall to conceal himself." -"Did you see all that?" -"Remember my words "If you return home safely, I shall -believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you also.'" -"And you did not warn me" cried Caderousse, raising himself -on his elbows. "You knew I should be killed on leaving this -house, and did not warn me" -"No for I saw God's justice placed in the hands of -Benedetto, and should have thought it sacrilege to oppose -the designs of providence." -"God's justice Speak not of it, reverend sir. If God were -just, you know how many would be punished who now escape." -"Patience," said the abbe, in a tone which made the dying -man shudder "have patience" Caderousse looked at him with -amazement. "Besides," said the abbe, "God is merciful to -all, as he has been to you he is first a father, then a -judge." -"Do you then believe in God?" said Caderousse. -"Had I been so unhappy as not to believe in him until now," -said Monte Cristo, "I must believe on seeing you." -Caderousse raised his clinched hands towards heaven. -"Listen," said the abbe, extending his hand over the wounded -man, as if to command him to believe "this is what the God -in whom, on your deathbed, you refuse to believe, has done -for you he gave you health, strength, regular employment, -even friends a life, in fact, which a man might enjoy -with a calm conscience. Instead of improving these gifts, -rarely granted so abundantly, this has been your course -you have given yourself up to sloth and drunkenness, and in -a fit of intoxication have ruined your best friend." -"Help" cried Caderousse "I require a surgeon, not a -priest perhaps I am not mortally wounded I may not die -perhaps they can yet save my life." -"Your wounds are so far mortal that, without the three drops -I gave you, you would now be dead. Listen, then." -"Ah," murmured Caderousse, "what a strange priest you are -you drive the dying to despair, instead of consoling them." -"Listen," continued the abbe. "When you had betrayed your -friend God began not to strike, but to warn you. Poverty -overtook you. You had already passed half your life in -coveting that which you might have honorably acquired and -already you contemplated crime under the excuse of want, -when God worked a miracle in your behalf, sending you, by my -hands, a fortune brilliant, indeed, for you, who had -never possessed any. But this unexpected, unhopedfor, -unheardof fortune sufficed you no longer when you once -possessed it you wished to double it, and how? by a -murder You succeeded, and then God snatched it from you, -and brought you to justice." -"It was not I who wished to kill the Jew," said Caderousse -"it was La Carconte." -"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "and God, I cannot say in -justice, for his justice would have slain you, but God, -in his mercy, spared your life." -"Pardieu, to transport me for life, how merciful" -"You thought it a mercy then, miserable wretch The coward -who feared death rejoiced at perpetual disgrace for like -all galleyslaves, you said, "I may escape from prison, I -cannot from the grave.' And you said truly the way was -opened for you unexpectedly. An Englishman visited Toulon, -who had vowed to rescue two men from infamy, and his choice -fell on you and your companion. You received a second -fortune, money and tranquillity were restored to you, and -you, who had been condemned to a felon's life, might live as -other men. Then, wretched creature, then you tempted God a -third time. "I have not enough,' you said, when you had more -than you before possessed, and you committed a third crime, -without reason, without excuse. God is wearied he has -punished you." Caderousse was fast sinking. "Give me drink," -said he "I thirst I burn" Monte Cristo gave him a glass -of water. "And yet that villain, Benedetto, will escape" -"No one, I tell you, will escape Benedetto will be -punished." -"Then, you, too, will be punished, for you did not do your -duty as a priest you should have prevented Benedetto from -killing me." -"I?" said the count, with a smile which petrified the dying -man, "when you had just broken your knife against the coat -of mail which protected my breast Yet perhaps if I had -found you humble and penitent, I might have prevented -Benedetto from killing you but I found you proud and -bloodthirsty, and I left you in the hands of God." -"I do not believe there is a God," howled Caderousse "you -do not believe it you lie you lie" -"Silence," said the abbe "you will force the last drop of -blood from your veins. What you do not believe in God when -he is striking you dead? you will not believe in him, who -requires but a prayer, a word, a tear, and he will forgive? -God, who might have directed the assassin's dagger so as to -end your career in a moment, has given you this quarter of -an hour for repentance. Reflect, then, wretched man, and -repent." -"No," said Caderousse, "no I will not repent. There is no -God there is no providence all comes by chance." -"There is a providence there is a God," said Monte Cristo, -"of whom you are a striking proof, as you lie in utter -despair, denying him, while I stand before you, rich, happy, -safe and entreating that God in whom you endeavor not to -believe, while in your heart you still believe in him." -"But who are you, then?" asked Caderousse, fixing his dying -eyes on the count. "Look well at me" said Monte Cristo, -putting the light near his face. "Well, the abbe the Abbe -Busoni." Monte Cristo took off the wig which disfigured him, -and let fall his black hair, which added so much to the -beauty of his pallid features. "Oh?" said Caderousse, -thunderstruck, "but for that black hair, I should say you -were the Englishman, Lord Wilmore." -"I am neither the Abbe Busoni nor Lord Wilmore," said Monte -Cristo "think again, do you not recollect me?" Those was -a magic effect in the count's words, which once more revived -the exhausted powers of the miserable man. "Yes, indeed," -said he "I think I have seen you and known you formerly." -"Yes, Caderousse, you have seen me you knew me once." -"Who, then, are you? and why, if you knew me, do you let me -die?" -"Because nothing can save you your wounds are mortal. Had -it been possible to save you, I should have considered it -another proof of God's mercy, and I would again have -endeavored to restore you, I swear by my father's tomb." -"By your father's tomb" said Caderousse, supported by a -supernatural power, and halfraising himself to see more -distinctly the man who had just taken the oath which all men -hold sacred "who, then, are you?" The count had watched the -approach of death. He knew this was the last struggle. He -approached the dying man, and, leaning over him with a calm -and melancholy look, he whispered, "I am I am" And his -almost closed lips uttered a name so low that the count -himself appeared afraid to hear it. Caderousse, who had -raised himself on his knees, and stretched out his arm, -tried to draw back, then clasping his hands, and raising -them with a desperate effort, "O my God, my God" said he, -"pardon me for having denied thee thou dost exist, thou art -indeed man's father in heaven, and his judge on earth. My -God, my Lord, I have long despised thee Pardon me, my God -receive me, O my Lord" Caderousse sighed deeply, and fell -back with a groan. The blood no longer flowed from his -wounds. He was dead. -"One" said the count mysteriously, his eyes fixed on the -corpse, disfigured by so awful a death. Ten minutes -afterwards the surgeon and the procureur arrived, the one -accompanied by the porter, the other by Ali, and were -received by the Abbe Busoni, who was praying by the side of -the corpse. -Chapter -Beauchamp. -The daring attempt to rob the count was the topic of -conversation throughout Paris for the next fortnight. The -dying man had signed a deposition declaring Benedetto to be -the assassin. The police had orders to make the strictest -search for the murderer. Caderousse's knife, dark lantern, -bunch of keys, and clothing, excepting the waistcoat, which -could not be found, were deposited at the registry the -corpse was conveyed to the morgue. The count told every one -that this adventure had happened during his absence at -Auteuil, and that he only knew what was related by the Abbe -Busoni, who that evening, by mere chance, had requested to -pass the night in his house, to examine some valuable books -in his library. Bertuccio alone turned pale whenever -Benedetto's name was mentioned in his presence, but there -was no reason why any one should notice his doing so. -Villefort, being called on to prove the crime, was preparing -his brief with the same ardor that he was accustomed to -exercise when required to speak in criminal cases. -But three weeks had already passed, and the most diligent -search had been unsuccessful the attempted robbery and the -murder of the robber by his comrade were almost forgotten in -anticipation of the approaching marriage of Mademoiselle -Danglars to the Count Andrea Cavalcanti. It was expected -that this wedding would shortly take place, as the young man -was received at the banker's as the betrothed. Letters had -been despatched to M. Cavalcanti, as the count's father, who -highly approved of the union, regretted his inability to -leave Parma at that time, and promised a wedding gift of a -hundred and fifty thousand livres. It was agreed that the -three millions should be intrusted to Danglars to invest -some persons had warned the young man of the circumstances -of his future fatherinlaw, who had of late sustained -repeated losses but with sublime disinterestedness and -confidence the young man refused to listen, or to express a -single doubt to the baron. The baron adored Count Andrea -Cavalcanti not so Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars. With an -instinctive hatred of matrimony, she suffered Andrea's -attentions in order to get rid of Morcerf but when Andrea -urged his suit, she betrayed an entire dislike to him. The -baron might possibly have perceived it, but, attributing it -to a caprice, feigned ignorance. -The delay demanded by Beauchamp had nearly expired. Morcerf -appreciated the advice of Monte Cristo to let things die -away of their own accord. No one had taken up the remark -about the general, and no one had recognized in the officer -who betrayed the castle of Yanina the noble count in the -House of Peers. Albert, however felt no less insulted the -few lines which had irritated him were certainly intended as -an insult. Besides, the manner in which Beauchamp had closed -the conference left a bitter recollection in his heart. He -cherished the thought of the duel, hoping to conceal its -true cause even from his seconds. Beauchamp had not been -seen since the day he visited Albert, and those of whom the -latter inquired always told him he was out on a journey -which would detain him some days. Where he was no one knew. -One morning Albert was awakened by his valet de chambre, who -announced Beauchamp. Albert rubbed his eyes, ordered his -servant to introduce him into the small smokingroom on the -groundfloor, dressed himself quickly, and went down. He -found Beauchamp pacing the room on perceiving him Beauchamp -stopped. "Your arrival here, without waiting my visit at -your house today, looks well, sir," said Albert. "Tell me, -may I shake hands with you, saying, "Beauchamp, acknowledge -you have injured me, and retain my friendship,' or must I -simply propose to you a choice of arms?" -"Albert," said Beauchamp, with a look of sorrow which -stupefied the young man, "let us first sit down and talk." -"Rather, sir, before we sit down, I must demand your -answer." -"Albert," said the journalist, "these are questions which it -is difficult to answer." -"I will facilitate it by repeating the question, "Will you, -or will you not, retract?'" -"Morcerf, it is not enough to answer "yes' or "no' to -questions which concern the honor, the social interest, and -the life of such a man as Lieutenantgeneral the Count of -Morcerf, peer of France." -"What must then be done?" -"What I have done, Albert. I reasoned thus money, time, -and fatigue are nothing compared with the reputation and -interests of a whole family probabilities will not suffice, -only facts will justify a deadly combat with a friend. If I -strike with the sword, or discharge the contents of a pistol -at man with whom, for three years, I have been on terms of -intimacy, I must, at least, know why I do so I must meet -him with a heart at ease, and that quiet conscience which a -man needs when his own arm must save his life." -"Well," said Morcerf, impatiently, "what does all this -mean?" -"It means that I have just returned from Yanina." -"From Yanina?" -"Yes." -"Impossible" -"Here is my passport examine the visa Geneva, Milan, -Venice, Trieste, Delvino, Yanina. Will you believe the -government of a republic, a kingdom, and an empire?" Albert -cast his eyes on the passport, then raised them in -astonishment to Beauchamp. "You have been to Yanina?" said -he. -"Albert, had you been a stranger, a foreigner, a simple -lord, like that Englishman who came to demand satisfaction -three or four months since, and whom I killed to get rid of, -I should not have taken this trouble but I thought this -mark of consideration due to you. I took a week to go, -another to return, four days of quarantine, and fortyeight -hours to stay there that makes three weeks. I returned last -night, and here I am." -"What circumlocution How long you are before you tell me -what I most wish to know?" -"Because, in truth, Albert" -"You hesitate?" -"Yes, I fear." -"You fear to acknowledge that your correspondent his -deceived you? Oh, no selflove, Beauchamp. Acknowledge it, -Beauchamp your courage cannot be doubted." -"Not so," murmured the journalist "on the contrary" -Albert turned frightfully pale he endeavored to speak, but -the words died on his lips. "My friend," said Beauchamp, in -the most affectionate tone, "I should gladly make an -apology but, alas," -"But what?" -"The paragraph was correct, my friend." -"What? That French officer" -"Yes." -"Fernand?" -"Yes." -"The traitor who surrendered the castle of the man in whose -service he was" -"Pardon me, my friend, that man was your father" Albert -advanced furiously towards Beauchamp, but the latter -restrained him more by a mild look than by his extended -hand. -"My friend," said he, "here is a proof of it." -Albert opened the paper, it was an attestation of four -notable inhabitants of Yanina, proving that Colonel Fernand -Mondego, in the service of Ali Tepelini, had surrendered the -castle for two million crowns. The signatures were perfectly -legal. Albert tottered and fell overpowered in a chair. It -could no longer be doubted the family name was fully given. -After a moment's mournful silence, his heart overflowed, and -he gave way to a flood of tears. Beauchamp, who had watched -with sincere pity the young man's paroxysm of grief, -approached him. "Now, Albert," said he, "you understand me -do you not? I wished to see all, and to judge of -everything for myself, hoping the explanation would be in -your father's favor, and that I might do him justice. But, -on the contrary, the particulars which are given prove that -Fernand Mondego, raised by Ali Pasha to the rank of -governorgeneral, is no other than Count Fernand of Morcerf -then, recollecting the honor you had done me, in admitting -me to your friendship, I hastened to you." -Albert, still extended on the chair, covered his face with -both hands, as if to prevent the light from reaching him. "I -hastened to you," continued Beauchamp, "to tell you, Albert, -that in this changing age, the faults of a father cannot -revert upon his children. Few have passed through this -revolutionary period, in the midst of which we were born, -without some stain of infamy or blood to soil the uniform of -the soldier, or the gown of the magistrate. Now I have these -proofs, Albert, and I am in your confidence, no human power -can force me to a duel which your own conscience would -reproach you with as criminal, but I come to offer you what -you can no longer demand of me. Do you wish these proofs, -these attestations, which I alone possess, to be destroyed? -Do you wish this frightful secret to remain with us? -Confided to me, it shall never escape my lips say, Albert, -my friend, do you wish it?" -Albert threw himself on Beauchamp's neck. "Ah, noble -fellow" cried he. -"Take these," said Beauchamp, presenting the papers to -Albert. -Albert seized them with a convulsive hand, tore them in -pieces, and trembling lest the least vestige should escape -and one day appear to confront him, he approached the -waxlight, always kept burning for cigars, and burned every -fragment. "Dear, excellent friend," murmured Albert, still -burning the papers. -"Let all be forgotten as a sorrowful dream," said Beauchamp -"let it vanish as the last sparks from the blackened paper, -and disappear as the smoke from those silent ashes." -"Yes, yes," said Albert, "and may there remain only the -eternal friendship which I promised to my deliverer, which -shall be transmitted to our children's children, and shall -always remind me that I owe my life and the honor of my name -to you, for had this been known, oh, Beauchamp, I should -have destroyed myself or, no, my poor mother I could -not have killed her by the same blow, I should have fled -from my country." -"Dear Albert," said Beauchamp. But this sudden and -factitious joy soon forsook the young man, and was succeeded -by a still greater grief. -"Well," said Beauchamp, "what still oppresses you, my -friend?" -"I am brokenhearted," said Albert. "Listen, Beauchamp I -cannot thus, in a moment relinquish the respect, the -confidence, and pride with which a father's untarnished name -inspires a son. Oh, Beauchamp, Beauchamp, how shall I now -approach mine? Shall I draw back my forehead from his -embrace, or withhold my hand from his? I am the most -wretched of men. Ah, my mother, my poor mother" said -Albert, gazing through his tears at his mother's portrait -"if you know this, how much must you suffer" -"Come," said Beauchamp, taking both his hands, "take -courage, my friend." -"But how came that first note to be inserted in your -journal? Some unknown enemy an invisible foe has done -this." -"The more must you fortify yourself, Albert. Let no trace of -emotion be visible on your countenance, bear your grief as -the cloud bears within it ruin and death a fatal secret, -known only when the storm bursts. Go, my friend, reserve -your strength for the moment when the crash shall come." -"You think, then, all is not over yet?" said Albert, -horrorstricken. -"I think nothing, my friend but all things are possible. By -the way" -"What?" said Albert, seeing that Beauchamp hesitated. -"Are you going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" -"Why do you ask me now?" -"Because the rupture or fulfilment of this engagement is -connected with the person of whom we were speaking." -"How?" said Albert, whose brow reddened "you think M. -Danglars" -"I ask you only how your engagement stands? Pray put no -construction on my words I do not mean they should convey, -and give them no undue weight." -"No." said Albert, "the engagement is broken off." -"Well," said Beauchamp. Then, seeing the young man was about -to relapse into melancholy, "Let us go out, Albert," said -he "a ride in the wood in the phaeton, or on horseback, -will refresh you we will then return to breakfast, and you -shall attend to your affairs, and I to mine." -"Willingly," said Albert "but let us walk. I think a little -exertion would do me good." The two friends walked out on -the fortress. When arrived at the Madeleine, "Since we -are out," said Beauchamp, "let us call on M. de Monte -Cristo he is admirably adapted to revive one's spirits, -because he never interrogates, and in my opinion those who -ask no questions are the best comforters." -"Gladly," said Albert "I love him let us call." -Chapter -The Journey. -Monte Cristo uttered a joyful exclamation on seeing the -young men together. "Ah, ha" said he, "I hope all is over, -explained and settled." -"Yes," said Beauchamp "the absurd reports have died away, -and should they be renewed, I would be the first to oppose -them so let us speak no more of it." -"Albert will tell you," replied the count "that I gave him -the same advice. Look," added he. "I am finishing the most -execrable morning's work." -"What is it?" said Albert "arranging your papers, -apparently." -"My papers, thank God, no, my papers are all in capital -order, because I have none but M. Cavalcanti's." -"M. Cavalcanti's?" asked Beauchamp. -"Yes do you not know that this is a young man whom the -count is introducing?" said Morcerf. -"Let us not misunderstand each other," replied Monte Cristo -"I introduce no one, and certainly not M. Cavalcanti." -"And who," said Albert with a forced smile, "is to marry -Mademoiselle Danglars instead of me, which grieves me -cruelly." -"What? Cavalcanti is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?" -asked Beauchamp. -"Certainly do you come from the end of the world?" said -Monte Cristo "you, a journalist, the husband of renown? It -is the talk of all Paris." -"And you, count, have made this match?" asked Beauchamp. -"I? Silence, purveyor of gossip, do not spread that report. -I make a match? No, you do not know me I have done all in -my power to oppose it." -"Ah, I understand," said Beauchamp, "on our friend Albert's -account." -"On my account?" said the young man "oh, no, indeed, the -count will do me the justice to assert that I have, on the -contrary, always entreated him to break off my engagement, -and happily it is ended. The count pretends I have not him -to thank so be it I will erect an altar Deo ignoto." -"Listen," said Monte Cristo "I have had little to do with -it, for I am at variance both with the fatherinlaw and the -young man there is only Mademoiselle Eugenie, who appears -but little charmed with the thoughts of matrimony, and who, -seeing how little I was disposed to persuade her to renounce -her dear liberty, retains any affection for me." -"And do you say this wedding is at hand?" -"Oh, yes, in spite of all I could say. I do not know the -young man he is said to be of good family and rich, but I -never trust to vague assertions. I have warned M. Danglars -of it till I am tired, but he is fascinated with his -Luccanese. I have even informed him of a circumstance I -consider very serious the young man was either charmed by -his nurse, stolen by gypsies, or lost by his tutor, I -scarcely know which. But I do know his father lost sight of -him for more than ten years what he did during these ten -years, God only knows. Well, all that was useless. They have -commissioned me to write to the major to demand papers, and -here they are. I send them, but like Pilate washing my -hands." -"And what does Mademoiselle d'Armilly say to you for robbing -her of her pupil?" -"Oh, well, I don't know but I understand that she is going -to Italy. Madame Danglars asked me for letters of -recommendation for the impresari I gave her a few lines for -the director of the Valle Theatre, who is under some -obligation to me. But what is the matter, Albert? you look -dull are you, after all, unconsciously in love with -Mademoiselle Eugenie?" -"I am not aware of it," said Albert, smiling sorrowfully. -Beauchamp turned to look at some paintings. "But," continued -Monte Cristo, "you are not in your usual spirits?" -"I have a dreadful headache," said Albert. -"Well, my dear viscount," said Monte Cristo, "I have an -infallible remedy to propose to you." -"What is that?" asked the young man. -"A change." -"Indeed?" said Albert. -"Yes and as I am just now excessively annoyed, I shall go -from home. Shall we go together?" -"You annoyed, count?" said Beauchamp "and by what?" -"Ah, you think very lightly of it I should like to see you -with a brief preparing in your house." -"What brief?" -"The one M. de Villefort is preparing against my amiable -assassin some brigand escaped from the gallows -apparently." -"True," said Beauchamp "I saw it in the paper. Who is this -Caderousse?" -"Some provincial, it appears. M. de Villefort heard of him -at Marseilles, and M. Danglars recollects having seen him. -Consequently, the procureur is very active in the affair, -and the prefect of police very much interested and, thanks -to that interest, for which I am very grateful, they send me -all the robbers of Paris and the neighborhood, under -pretence of their being Caderousse's murderers, so that in -three months, if this continue, every robber and assassin in -France will have the plan of my house at his fingers' end. I -am resolved to desert them and go to some remote corner of -the earth, and shall be happy if you will accompany me, -viscount." -"Willingly." -"Then it is settled?" -"Yes, but where?" -"I have told you, where the air is pure, where every sound -soothes, where one is sure to be humbled, however proud may -be his nature. I love that humiliation, I, who am master of -the universe, as was Augustus." -"But where are you really going?" -"To sea, viscount you know I am a sailor. I was rocked when -an infant in the arms of old ocean, and on the bosom of the -beautiful Amphitrite I have sported with the green mantle -of the one and the azure robe of the other I love the sea -as a mistress, and pine if I do not often see her." -"Let us go, count." -"To sea?" -"Yes." -"You accept my proposal?" -"I do." -"Well, Viscount, there will be in my courtyard this evening -a good travelling britzka, with four posthorses, in which -one may rest as in a bed. M. Beauchamp, it holds four very -well, will you accompany us?" -"Thank you, I have just returned from sea." -"What? you have been to sea?" -"Yes I have just made a little excursion to the Borromean -Islands." - Lake Maggiore. -"What of that? come with us," said Albert. -"No, dear Morcerf you know I only refuse when the thing is -impossible. Besides, it is important," added he in a low -tone, "that I should remain in Paris just now to watch the -paper." -"Ah, you are a good and an excellent friend," said Albert -"yes, you are right watch, watch, Beauchamp, and try to -discover the enemy who made this disclosure." Albert and -Beauchamp parted, the last pressure of their hands -expressing what their tongues could not before a stranger. -"Beauchamp is a worthy fellow," said Monte Cristo, when the -journalist was gone "is he not, Albert?" -"Yes, and a sincere friend I love him devotedly. But now we -are alone, although it is immaterial to me, where are -we going?" -"Into Normandy, if you like." -"Delightful shall we be quite retired? have no society, no -neighbors?" -"Our companions will be ridinghorses, dogs to hunt with, -and a fishingboat." -"Exactly what I wish for I will apprise my mother of my -intention, and return to you." -"But shall you be allowed to go into Normandy?" -"I may go where I please." -"Yes, I am aware you may go alone, since I once met you in -Italy but to accompany the mysterious Monte Cristo?" -"You forget, count, that I have often told you of the deep -interest my mother takes in you." -""Woman is fickle.' said Francis I. "woman is like a wave -of the sea,' said Shakespeare both the great king and the -great poet ought to have known woman's nature well." -"Woman's, yes my mother is not woman, but a woman." -"As I am only a humble foreigner, you must pardon me if I do -not understand all the subtle refinements of your language." -"What I mean to say is, that my mother is not quick to give -her confidence, but when she does she never changes." -"Ah, yes, indeed," said Monte Cristo with a sigh "and do -you think she is in the least interested in me?" -"I repeat it, you must really be a very strange and superior -man, for my mother is so absorbed by the interest you have -excited, that when I am with her she speaks of no one else." -"And does she try to make you dislike me?" -"On the contrary, she often says, "Morcerf, I believe the -count has a noble nature try to gain his esteem.'" -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, sighing. -"You see, then," said Albert, "that instead of opposing, she -will encourage me." -"Adieu, then, until five o'clock be punctual, and we shall -arrive at twelve or one." -"At Treport?" -"Yes or in the neighborhood." -"But can we travel fortyeight leagues in eight hours?" -"Easily," said Monte Cristo. -"You are certainly a prodigy you will soon not only surpass -the railway, which would not be very difficult in France, -but even the telegraph." -"But, viscount, since we cannot perform the journey in less -than seven or eight hours, do not keep me waiting." -"Do not fear, I have little to prepare." Monte Cristo smiled -as he nodded to Albert, then remained a moment absorbed in -deep meditation. But passing his hand across his forehead as -if to dispel his revery, he rang the bell twice and -Bertuccio entered. "Bertuccio," said he, "I intend going -this evening to Normandy, instead of tomorrow or the next -day. You will have sufficient time before five o'clock -despatch a messenger to apprise the grooms at the first -station. M. de Morcerf will accompany me." Bertuccio obeyed -and despatched a courier to Pontoise to say the -travellingcarriage would arrive at six o'clock. From -Pontoise another express was sent to the next stage, and in -six hours all the horses stationed on the road were ready. -Before his departure, the count went to Haidee's apartments, -told her his intention, and resigned everything to her care. -Albert was punctual. The journey soon became interesting -from its rapidity, of which Morcerf had formed no previous -idea. "Truly," said Monte Cristo, "with your posthorses -going at the rate of two leagues an hour, and that absurd -law that one traveller shall not pass another without -permission, so that an invalid or illtempered traveller may -detain those who are well and active, it is impossible to -move I escape this annoyance by travelling with my own -postilion and horses do I not, Ali?" -The count put his head out of the window and whistled, and -the horses appeared to fly. The carriage rolled with a -thundering noise over the pavement, and every one turned to -notice the dazzling meteor. Ali, smiling, repeated the -sound, grasped the reins with a firm hand, and spurred his -horses, whose beautiful manes floated in the breeze. This -child of the desert was in his element, and with his black -face and sparkling eyes appeared, in the cloud of dust he -raised, like the genius of the simoom and the god of the -hurricane. "I never knew till now the delight of speed," -said Morcerf, and the last cloud disappeared from his brow -"but where the devil do you get such horses? Are they made -to order?" -"Precisely," said the count "six years since I bought a -horse in Hungary remarkable for its swiftness. The -thirtytwo that we shall use tonight are its progeny they -are all entirely black, with the exception of a star upon -the forehead." -"That is perfectly admirable but what do you do, count, -with all these horses?" -"You see, I travel with them." -"But you are not always travelling." -"When I no longer require them, Bertuccio will sell them, -and he expects to realize thirty or forty thousand francs by -the sale." -"But no monarch in Europe will be wealthy enough to purchase -them." -"Then he will sell them to some Eastern vizier, who will -empty his coffers to purchase them, and refill them by -applying the bastinado to his subjects." -"Count, may I suggest one idea to you?" -"Certainly." -"It is that, next to you, Bertuccio must be the richest -gentleman in Europe." -"You are mistaken, viscount I believe he has not a franc in -his possession." -"Then he must be a wonder. My dear count, if you tell me -many more marvellous things, I warn you I shall not believe -them." -"I countenance nothing that is marvellous, M. Albert. Tell -me, why does a steward rob his master?" -"Because, I suppose, it is his nature to do so, for the love -of robbing." -"You are mistaken it is because he has a wife and family, -and ambitious desires for himself and them. Also because he -is not sure of always retaining his situation, and wishes to -provide for the future. Now, M. Bertuccio is alone in the -world he uses my property without accounting for the use he -makes of it he is sure never to leave my service." -"Why?" -"Because I should never get a better." -"Probabilities are deceptive." -"But I deal in certainties he is the best servant over whom -one has the power of life and death." -"Do you possess that right over Bertuccio?" -"Yes." -There are words which close a conversation with an iron -door such was the count's "yes." The whole journey was -performed with equal rapidity the thirtytwo horses, -dispersed over seven stages, brought them to their -destination in eight hours. At midnight they arrived at the -gate of a beautiful park. The porter was in attendance he -had been apprised by the groom of the last stage of the -count's approach. At half past two in the morning Morcerf -was conducted to his apartments, where a bath and supper -were prepared. The servant who had travelled at the back of -the carriage waited on him Baptistin, who rode in front, -attended the count. Albert bathed, took his supper, and went -to bed. All night he was lulled by the melancholy noise of -the surf. On rising, he went to his window, which opened on -a terrace, having the sea in front, and at the back a pretty -park bounded by a small forest. In a creek lay a little -sloop, with a narrow keel and high masts, bearing on its -flag the Monte Cristo arms which were a mountain on a sea -azure, with a cross gules on the shield. Around the schooner -lay a number of small fishingboats belonging to the -fishermen of the neighboring village, like humble subjects -awaiting orders from their queen. There, as in every spot -where Monte Cristo stopped, if but for two days, luxury -abounded and life went on with the utmost ease. -Albert found in his anteroom two guns, with all the -accoutrements for hunting a lofty room on the groundfloor -containing all the ingenious instruments the English -eminent in piscatory pursuits, since they are patient and -sluggish have invented for fishing. The day passed in -pursuing those exercises in which Monte Cristo excelled. -They killed a dozen pheasants in the park, as many trout in -the stream, dined in a summerhouse overlooking the ocean, -and took tea in the library. -Towards the evening of the third day. Albert, completely -exhausted with the exercise which invigorated Monte Cristo, -was sleeping in an armchair near the window, while the -count was designing with his architect the plan of a -conservatory in his house, when the sound of a horse at full -speed on the high road made Albert look up. He was -disagreeably surprised to see his own valet de chambre, whom -he had not brought, that he might not inconvenience Monte -Cristo. -"Florentin here" cried he, starting up "is my mother ill?" -And he hastened to the door. Monte Cristo watched and saw -him approach the valet, who drew a small sealed parcel from -his pocket, containing a newspaper and a letter. "From whom -is this?" said he eagerly. "From M. Beauchamp," replied -Florentin. -"Did he send you?" -"Yes, sir he sent for me to his house, gave me money for my -journey, procured a horse, and made me promise not to stop -till I had reached you, I have come in fifteen hours." -Albert opened the letter with fear, uttered a shriek on -reading the first line, and seized the paper. His sight was -dimmed, his legs sank under him, and he would have fallen -had not Florentin supported him. -"Poor young man," said Monte Cristo in a low voice "it is -then true that the sin of the father shall fall on the -children to the third and fourth generation." Meanwhile -Albert had revived, and, continuing to read, he threw back -his head, saying, "Florentin, is your horse fit to return -immediately?" -"It is a poor lame posthorse." -"In what state was the house when you left?" -"All was quiet, but on returning from M. Beauchamp's, I -found madame in tears she had sent for me to know when you -would return. I told her my orders from M. Beauchamp she -first extended her arms to prevent me, but after a moment's -reflection, "Yes, go, Florentin,' said she, "and may he come -quickly.'" -"Yes, my mother," said Albert, "I will return, and woe to -the infamous wretch But first of all I must get there." -He went back to the room where he had left Monte Cristo. -Five minutes had sufficed to make a complete transformation -in his appearance. His voice had become rough and hoarse -his face was furrowed with wrinkles his eyes burned under -the blueveined lids, and he tottered like a drunken man. -"Count," said he, "I thank you for your hospitality, which I -would gladly have enjoyed longer but I must return to -Paris." -"What has happened?" -"A great misfortune, more important to me than life. Don't -question me, I beg of you, but lend me a horse." -"My stables are at your command, viscount but you will kill -yourself by riding on horseback. Take a postchaise or a -carriage." -"No, it would delay me, and I need the fatigue you warn me -of it will do me good." Albert reeled as if he had been -shot, and fell on a chair near the door. Monte Cristo did -not see this second manifestation of physical exhaustion he -was at the window, calling, "Ali, a horse for M. de Morcerf -quick he is in a hurry" These words restored Albert he -darted from the room, followed by the count. "Thank you" -cried he, throwing himself on his horse. "Return as soon as -you can, Florentin. Must I use any password to procure a -horse?" -"Only dismount another will be immediately saddled." Albert -hesitated a moment. "You may think my departure strange and -foolish," said the young man "you do not know how a -paragraph in a newspaper may exasperate one. Read that," -said he, "when I am gone, that you may not be witness of my -anger." -While the count picked up the paper he put spurs to his -horse, which leaped in astonishment at such an unusual -stimulus, and shot away with the rapidity of an arrow. The -count watched him with a feeling of compassion, and when he -had completely disappeared, read as follows -"The French officer in the service of Ali Pasha of Yanina -alluded to three weeks since in the Impartial, who not only -surrendered the castle of Yanina, but sold his benefactor to -the Turks, styled himself truly at that time Fernand, as our -esteemed contemporary states but he has since added to his -Christian name a title of nobility and a family name. He now -calls himself the Count of Morcerf, and ranks among the -peers." -Thus the terrible secret, which Beauchamp had so generously -destroyed, appeared again like an armed phantom and another -paper, deriving its information from some malicious source, -had published two days after Albert's departure for Normandy -the few lines which had rendered the unfortunate young man -almost crazy. -Chapter -The Trial. -At eight o'clock in the morning Albert had arrived at -Beauchamp's door. The valet de chambre had received orders -to usher him in at once. Beauchamp was in his bath. "Here I -am," said Albert. -"Well, my poor friend," replied Beauchamp, "I expected you." -"I need not say I think you are too faithful and too kind to -have spoken of that painful circumstance. Your having sent -for me is another proof of your affection. So, without -losing time, tell me, have you the slightest idea whence -this terrible blow proceeds?" -"I think I have some clew." -"But first tell me all the particulars of this shameful -plot." Beauchamp proceeded to relate to the young man, who -was overwhelmed with shame and grief, the following facts. -Two days previously, the article had appeared in another -paper besides the Impartial, and, what was more serious, one -that was well known as a government paper. Beauchamp was -breakfasting when he read the paragraph. He sent immediately -for a cabriolet, and hastened to the publisher's office. -Although professing diametrically opposite principles from -those of the editor of the other paper, Beauchamp as it -sometimes, we may say often, happens was his intimate -friend. The editor was reading, with apparent delight, a -leading article in the same paper on beetsugar, probably a -composition of his own. -"Ah, pardieu," said Beauchamp, "with the paper in your hand, -my friend, I need not tell you the cause of my visit." -"Are you interested in the sugar question?" asked the editor -of the ministerial paper. -"No," replied Beauchamp, "I have not considered the -question a totally different subject interests me." -"What is it?" -"The article relative to Morcerf." -"Indeed? Is it not a curious affair?" -"So curious, that I think you are running a great risk of a -prosecution for defamation of character." -"Not at all we have received with the information all the -requisite proofs, and we are quite sure M. de Morcerf will -not raise his voice against us besides, it is rendering a -service to one's country to denounce these wretched -criminals who are unworthy of the honor bestowed on them." -Beauchamp was thunderstruck. "Who, then, has so correctly -informed you?" asked he "for my paper, which gave the first -information on the subject, has been obliged to stop for -want of proof and yet we are more interested than you in -exposing M. de Morcerf, as he is a peer of France, and we -are of the opposition." -"Oh, that is very simple we have not sought to scandalize. -This news was brought to us. A man arrived yesterday from -Yanina, bringing a formidable array of documents and when -we hesitated to publish the accusatory article, he told us -it should be inserted in some other paper." -Beauchamp understood that nothing remained but to submit, -and left the office to despatch a courier to Morcerf. But he -had been unable to send to Albert the following particulars, -as the events had transpired after the messenger's -departure namely, that the same day a great agitation was -manifest in the House of Peers among the usually calm -members of that dignified assembly. Every one had arrived -almost before the usual hour, and was conversing on the -melancholy event which was to attract the attention of the -public towards one of their most illustrious colleagues. -Some were perusing the article, others making comments and -recalling circumstances which substantiated the charges -still more. The Count of Morcerf was no favorite with his -colleagues. Like all upstarts, he had had recourse to a -great deal of haughtiness to maintain his position. The true -nobility laughed at him, the talented repelled him, and the -honorable instinctively despised him. He was, in fact, in -the unhappy position of the victim marked for sacrifice the -finger of God once pointed at him, every one was prepared to -raise the hue and cry. -The Count of Morcerf alone was ignorant of the news. He did -not take in the paper containing the defamatory article, and -had passed the morning in writing letters and in trying a -horse. He arrived at his usual hour, with a proud look and -insolent demeanor he alighted, passed through the -corridors, and entered the house without observing the -hesitation of the doorkeepers or the coolness of his -colleagues. Business had already been going on for half an -hour when he entered. Every one held the accusing paper, -but, as usual, no one liked to take upon himself the -responsibility of the attack. At length an honorable peer, -Morcerf's acknowledged enemy, ascended the tribune with that -solemnity which announced that the expected moment had -arrived. There was an impressive silence Morcerf alone knew -not why such profound attention was given to an orator who -was not always listened to with so much complacency. The -count did not notice the introduction, in which the speaker -announced that his communication would be of that vital -importance that it demanded the undivided attention of the -House but at the mention of Yanina and Colonel Fernand, he -turned so frightfully pale that every member shuddered and -fixed his eyes upon him. Moral wounds have this peculiarity, -they may be hidden, but they never close always painful, -always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and -open in the heart. -The article having been read during the painful hush that -followed, a universal shudder pervaded the assembly, and -immediately the closest attention was given to the orator as -he resumed his remarks. He stated his scruples and the -difficulties of the case it was the honor of M. de Morcerf, -and that of the whole House, he proposed to defend, by -provoking a debate on personal questions, which are always -such painful themes of discussion. He concluded by calling -for an investigation, which might dispose of the calumnious -report before it had time to spread, and restore M. de -Morcerf to the position he had long held in public opinion. -Morcerf was so completely overwhelmed by this great and -unexpected calamity that he could scarcely stammer a few -words as he looked around on the assembly. This timidity, -which might proceed from the astonishment of innocence as -well as the shame of guilt, conciliated some in his favor -for men who are truly generous are always ready to -compassionate when the misfortune of their enemy surpasses -the limits of their hatred. -The president put it to the vote, and it was decided that -the investigation should take place. The count was asked -what time he required to prepare his defence. Morcerf's -courage had revived when he found himself alive after this -horrible blow. "My lords," answered he, "it is not by time I -could repel the attack made on me by enemies unknown to me, -and, doubtless, hidden in obscurity it is immediately, and -by a thunderbolt, that I must repel the flash of lightning -which, for a moment, startled me. Oh, that I could, instead -of taking up this defence, shed my last drop of blood to -prove to my noble colleagues that I am their equal in -worth." These words made a favorable impression on behalf of -the accused. "I demand, then, that the examination shall -take place as soon as possible, and I will furnish the house -with all necessary information." -"What day do you fix?" asked the president. -"Today I am at your service," replied the count. The -president rang the bell. "Does the House approve that the -examination should take place today?" -"Yes," was the unanimous answer. -A committee of twelve members was chosen to examine the -proofs brought forward by Morcerf. The investigation would -begin at eight o'clock that evening in the committeeroom, -and if postponement were necessary, the proceedings would be -resumed each evening at the same hour. Morcerf asked leave -to retire he had to collect the documents he had long been -preparing against this storm, which his sagacity had -foreseen. -Albert listened, trembling now with hope, then with anger, -and then again with shame, for from Beauchamp's confidence -he knew his father was guilty, and he asked himself how, -since he was guilty, he could prove his innocence. Beauchamp -hesitated to continue his narrative. "What next?" asked -Albert. -"What next? My friend, you impose a painful task on me. Must -you know all?" -"Absolutely and rather from your lips than another's." -"Muster up all your courage, then, for never have you -required it more." Albert passed his hand over his forehead, -as if to try his strength, as a man who is preparing to -defend his life proves his shield and bends his sword. He -thought himself strong enough, for he mistook fever for -energy. "Go on," said he. -"The evening arrived all Paris was in expectation. Many -said your father had only to show himself to crush the -charge against him many others said he would not appear -while some asserted that they had seen him start for -Brussels and others went to the policeoffice to inquire if -he had taken out a passport. I used all my influence with -one of the committee, a young peer of my acquaintance, to -get admission to one of the galleries. He called for me at -seven o'clock, and, before any one had arrived, asked one of -the doorkeepers to place me in a box. I was concealed by a -column, and might witness the whole of the terrible scene -which was about to take place. At eight o'clock all were in -their places, and M. de Morcerf entered at the last stroke. -He held some papers in his hand his countenance was calm, -and his step firm, and he was dressed with great care in his -military uniform, which was buttoned completely up to the -chin. His presence produced a good effect. The committee was -made up of Liberals, several of whom came forward to shake -hands with him." -Albert felt his heart bursting at these particulars, but -gratitude mingled with his sorrow he would gladly have -embraced those who had given his father this proof of esteem -at a moment when his honor was so powerfully attacked. "At -this moment one of the doorkeepers brought in a letter for -the president. "You are at liberty to speak, M. de Morcerf,' -said the president, as he unsealed the letter and the count -began his defence, I assure you, Albert, in a most eloquent -and skilful manner. He produced documents proving that the -Vizier of Yanina had up to the last moment honored him with -his entire confidence, since he had interested him with a -negotiation of life and death with the emperor. He produced -the ring, his mark of authority, with which Ali Pasha -generally sealed his letters, and which the latter had given -him, that he might, on his return at any hour of the day or -night, gain access to the presence, even in the harem. -Unfortunately, the negotiation failed, and when he returned -to defend his benefactor, he was dead. "But,' said the -count, "so great was Ali Pasha's confidence, that on his -deathbed he resigned his favorite mistress and her daughter -to my care.'" Albert started on hearing these words the -history of Haidee recurred to him, and he remembered what -she had said of that message and the ring, and the manner in -which she had been sold and made a slave. "And what effect -did this discourse produce?" anxiously inquired Albert. "I -acknowledge it affected me, and, indeed, all the committee -also," said Beauchamp. -"Meanwhile, the president carelessly opened the letter which -had been brought to him but the first lines aroused his -attention he read them again and again, and fixing his eyes -on M. de Morcerf, "Count,' said he, "you have said that the -Vizier of Yanina confided his wife and daughter to your -care?' "Yes, sir,' replied Morcerf "but in that, like -all the rest, misfortune pursued me. On my return, Vasiliki -and her daughter Haidee had disappeared.' "Did you know -them?' "My intimacy with the pasha and his unlimited -confidence had gained me an introduction to them, and I had -seen them above twenty times.' -""Have you any idea what became of them?' "Yes, sir I -heard they had fallen victims to their sorrow, and, perhaps, -to their poverty. I was not rich my life was in constant -danger I could not seek them, to my great regret.' The -president frowned imperceptibly. "Gentlemen,' said he, "you -have heard the Comte de Morcerf's defence. Can you, sir, -produce any witnesses to the truth of what you have -asserted?' "Alas, no, monsieur,' replied the count "all -those who surrounded the vizier, or who knew me at his -court, are either dead or gone away, I know not where. I -believe that I alone, of all my countrymen, survived that -dreadful war. I have only the letters of Ali Tepelini, which -I have placed before you the ring, a token of his -goodwill, which is here and, lastly, the most convincing -proof I can offer, after an anonymous attack, and that is -the absence of any witness against my veracity and the -purity of my military life.' A murmur of approbation ran -through the assembly and at this moment, Albert, had -nothing more transpired, your father's cause had been -gained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the -president resumed "Gentlemen and you, monsieur, you will -not be displeased, I presume, to listen to one who calls -himself a very important witness, and who has just presented -himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove the perfect -innocence of our colleague. Here is a letter I have just -received on the subject shall it be read, or shall it be -passed over? and shall we take no notice of this incident?' -M. de Morcerf turned pale, and clinched his hands on the -papers he held. The committee decided to hear the letter -the count was thoughtful and silent. The president read -""Mr. President, I can furnish the committee of inquiry -into the conduct of the LieutenantGeneral the Count of -Morcerf in Epirus and in Macedonia with important -particulars.' -"The president paused, and the count turned pale. The -president looked at his auditors. "Proceed,' was heard on -all sides. The president resumed -""I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pasha. I was present -during his last moments. I know what is become of Vasiliki -and Haidee. I am at the command of the committee, and even -claim the honor of being heard. I shall be in the lobby when -this note is delivered to you.' -""And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?' asked the -count, in a tone in which there was a visible alteration. -"We shall know, sir,' replied the president. "Is the -committee willing to hear this witness?' "Yes, yes,' they -all said at once. The doorkeeper was called. "Is there any -one in the lobby?' said the president. -""Yes, sir.' "Who is it?' "A woman, accompanied by a -servant.' Every one looked at his neighbor. "Bring her in,' -said the president. Five minutes after the doorkeeper again -appeared all eyes were fixed on the door, and I," said -Beauchamp, "shared the general expectation and anxiety. -Behind the doorkeeper walked a woman enveloped in a large -veil, which completely concealed her. It was evident, from -her figure and the perfumes she had about her, that she was -young and fastidious in her tastes, but that was all. The -president requested her to throw aside her veil, and it was -then seen that she was dressed in the Grecian costume, and -was remarkably beautiful." -"Ah," said Albert, "it was she." -"Who?" -"Haidee." -"Who told you that?" -"Alas, I guess it. But go on, Beauchamp. You see I am calm -and strong. And yet we must be drawing near the disclosure." -"M. de Morcerf," continued Beauchamp, "looked at this woman -with surprise and terror. Her lips were about to pass his -sentence of life or death. To the committee the adventure -was so extraordinary and curious, that the interest they had -felt for the count's safety became now quite a secondary -matter. The president himself advanced to place a seat for -the young lady but she declined availing herself of it. As -for the count, he had fallen on his chair it was evident -that his legs refused to support him. -""Madame,' said the president, "you have engaged to furnish -the committee with some important particulars respecting the -affair at Yanina, and you have stated that you were an -eyewitness of the event.' "I was, indeed,' said the -stranger, with a tone of sweet melancholy, and with the -sonorous voice peculiar to the East. -""But allow me to say that you must have been very young -then.' "I was four years old but as those events deeply -concerned me, not a single detail has escaped my memory.' -"In what manner could these events concern you? and who are -you, that they should have made so deep an impression on -you?' "On them depended my father's life,' replied she. -"I am Haidee, the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, -and of Vasiliki, his beloved wife.' -"The blush of mingled pride and modesty which suddenly -suffused the cheeks of the young woman, the brilliancy of -her eye, and her highly important communication, produced an -indescribable effect on the assembly. As for the count, he -could not have been more overwhelmed if a thunderbolt had -fallen at his feet and opened an immense gulf before him. -"Madame,' replied the president, bowing with profound -respect, "allow me to ask one question it shall be the -last Can you prove the authenticity of what you have now -stated?' "I can, sir,' said Haidee, drawing from under -her veil a satin satchel highly perfumed "for here is the -register of my birth, signed by my father and his principal -officers, and that of my baptism, my father having consented -to my being brought up in my mother's faith, this latter -has been sealed by the grand primate of Macedonia and -Epirus and lastly and perhaps the most important, the -record of the sale of my person and that of my mother to the -Armenian merchant ElKobbir, by the French officer, who, in -his infamous bargain with the Porte, had reserved as his -part of the booty the wife and daughter of his benefactor, -whom he sold for the sum of four hundred thousand francs.' A -greenish pallor spread over the count's cheeks, and his eyes -became bloodshot at these terrible imputations, which were -listened to by the assembly with ominous silence. -"Haidee, still calm, but with a calmness more dreadful than -the anger of another would have been, handed to the -president the record of her sale, written in Arabic. It had -been supposed some of the papers might be in the Arabian, -Romaic, or Turkish language, and the interpreter of the -House was in attendance. One of the noble peers, who was -familiar with the Arabic language, having studied it during -the famous Egyptian campaign, followed with his eye as the -translator read aloud -""I, ElKobbir, a slavemerchant, and purveyor of the harem -of his highness, acknowledge having received for -transmission to the sublime emperor, from the French lord, -the Count of Monte Cristo, an emerald valued at eight -hundred thousand francs as the ransom of a young Christian -slave of eleven years of age, named Haidee, the acknowledged -daughter of the late lord Ali Tepelini, pasha of Yanina, and -of Vasiliki, his favorite she having been sold to me seven -years previously, with her mother, who had died on arriving -at Constantinople, by a French colonel in the service of the -Vizier Ali Tepelini, named Fernand Mondego. The -abovementioned purchase was made on his highness's account, -whose mandate I had, for the sum of four hundred thousand -francs. -""Given at Constantinople, by authority of his highness, in -the year of the Hegira. -""Signed ElKobbir.' -""That this record should have all due authority, it shall -bear the imperial seal, which the vendor is bound to have -affixed to it.' -"Near the merchant's signature there was, indeed, the seal -of the sublime emperor. A dreadful silence followed the -reading of this document the count could only stare, and -his gaze, fixed as if unconsciously on Haidee, seemed one of -fire and blood. "Madame,' said the president, "may reference -be made to the Count of Monte Cristo, who is now, I believe, -in Paris?' "Sir,' replied Haidee, "the Count of Monte -Cristo, my fosterfather, has been in Normandy the last -three days.' -""Who, then, has counselled you to take this step, one for -which the court is deeply indebted to you, and which is -perfectly natural, considering your birth and your -misfortunes?' "Sir,' replied Haidee, "I have been led to -take this step from a feeling of respect and grief. Although -a Christian, may God forgive me, I have always sought to -revenge my illustrious father. Since I set my foot in -France, and knew the traitor lived in Paris, I have watched -carefully. I live retired in the house of my noble -protector, but I do it from choice. I love retirement and -silence, because I can live with my thoughts and -recollections of past days. But the Count of Monte Cristo -surrounds me with every paternal care, and I am ignorant of -nothing which passes in the world. I learn all in the -silence of my apartments, for instance, I see all the -newspapers, every periodical, as well as every new piece of -music and by thus watching the course of the life of -others, I learned what had transpired this morning in the -House of Peers, and what was to take place this evening -then I wrote.' -""Then,' remarked the president, "the Count of Monte Cristo -knows nothing of your present proceedings?' "He is quite -unaware of them, and I have but one fear, which is that he -should disapprove of what I have done. But it is a glorious -day for me,' continued the young girl, raising her ardent -gaze to heaven, "that on which I find at last an opportunity -of avenging my father' -"The count had not uttered one word the whole of this time. -His colleagues looked at him, and doubtless pitied his -prospects, blighted under the perfumed breath of a woman. -His misery was depicted in sinister lines on his -countenance. "M. de Morcerf,' said the president, "do you -recognize this lady as the daughter of Ali Tepelini, pasha -of Yanina?' "No,' said Morcerf, attempting to rise, "it -is a base plot, contrived by my enemies.' Haidee, whose eyes -had been fixed on the door, as if expecting some one, turned -hastily, and, seeing the count standing, shrieked, "You do -not know me?' said she. "Well, I fortunately recognize you -You are Fernand Mondego, the French officer who led the -troops of my noble father It is you who surrendered the -castle of Yanina It is you who, sent by him to -Constantinople, to treat with the emperor for the life or -death of your benefactor, brought back a false mandate -granting full pardon It is you who, with that mandate, -obtained the pasha's ring, which gave you authority over -Selim, the firekeeper It is you who stabbed Selim. It is -you who sold us, my mother and me, to the merchant, -ElKobbir Assassin, assassin, assassin, you have still on -your brow your master's blood Look, gentlemen, all' -"These words had been pronounced with such enthusiasm and -evident truth, that every eye was fixed on the count's -forehead, and he himself passed his hand across it, as if he -felt Ali's blood still lingering there. "You positively -recognize M. de Morcerf as the officer, Fernand Mondego?' -"Indeed I do' cried Haidee. "Oh, my mother, it was you who -said, "You were free, you had a beloved father, you were -destined to be almost a queen. Look well at that man it is -he who raised your father's head on the point of a spear it -is he who sold us it is he who forsook us Look well at his -right hand, on which he has a large wound if you forgot his -features, you would know him by that hand, into which fell, -one by one, the gold pieces of the merchant ElKobbir" I -know him Ah, let him say now if he does not recognize me' -Each word fell like a dagger on Morcerf, and deprived him of -a portion of his energy as she uttered the last, he hid his -mutilated hand hastily in his bosom, and fell back on his -seat, overwhelmed by wretchedness and despair. This scene -completely changed the opinion of the assembly respecting -the accused count. -""Count of Morcerf,' said the president, "do not allow -yourself to be cast down answer. The justice of the court -is supreme and impartial as that of God it will not suffer -you to be trampled on by your enemies without giving you an -opportunity of defending yourself. Shall further inquiries -be made? Shall two members of the House be sent to Yanina? -Speak' Morcerf did not reply. Then all the members looked -at each other with terror. They knew the count's energetic -and violent temper it must be, indeed, a dreadful blow -which would deprive him of courage to defend himself. They -expected that his stupefied silence would be followed by a -fiery outburst. "Well,' asked the president, "what is your -decision?' -""I have no reply to make,' said the count in a low tone. -""Has the daughter of Ali Tepelini spoken the truth?' said -the president. "Is she, then, the terrible witness to whose -charge you dare not plead "Not guilty"? Have you really -committed the crimes of which you are accused?' The count -looked around him with an expression which might have -softened tigers, but which could not disarm his judges. Then -he raised his eyes towards the ceiling, but withdrew then, -immediately, as if he feared the roof would open and reveal -to his distressed view that second tribunal called heaven, -and that other judge named God. Then, with a hasty movement, -he tore open his coat, which seemed to stifle him, and flew -from the room like a madman his footstep was heard one -moment in the corridor, then the rattling of his -carriagewheels as he was driven rapidly away. "Gentlemen,' -said the president, when silence was restored, "is the Count -of Morcerf convicted of felony, treason, and conduct -unbecoming a member of this House?' "Yes,' replied all -the members of the committee of inquiry with a unanimous -voice. -"Haidee had remained until the close of the meeting. She -heard the count's sentence pronounced without betraying an -expression of joy or pity then drawing her veil over her -face she bowed majestically to the councillors, and left -with that dignified step which Virgil attributes to his -goddesses." -Chapter -The Challenge. -"Then," continued Beauchamp, "I took advantage of the -silence and the darkness to leave the house without being -seen. The usher who had introduced me was waiting for me at -the door, and he conducted me through the corridors to a -private entrance opening into the Rue de Vaugirard. I left -with mingled feelings of sorrow and delight. Excuse me, -Albert, sorrow on your account, and delight with that -noble girl, thus pursuing paternal vengeance. Yes, Albert, -from whatever source the blow may have proceeded it may -be from an enemy, but that enemy is only the agent of -providence." Albert held his head between his hands he -raised his face, red with shame and bathed in tears, and -seizing Beauchamp's arm, "My friend," said he, "my life is -ended. I cannot calmly say with you, "Providence has struck -the blow' but I must discover who pursues me with this -hatred, and when I have found him I shall kill him, or he -will kill me. I rely on your friendship to assist me, -Beauchamp, if contempt has not banished it from your heart." -"Contempt, my friend? How does this misfortune affect you? -No, happily that unjust prejudice is forgotten which made -the son responsible for the father's actions. Review your -life, Albert although it is only just beginning, did a -lovely summer's day ever dawn with greater purity than has -marked the commencement of your career? No, Albert, take my -advice. You are young and rich leave Paris all is soon -forgotten in this great Babylon of excitement and changing -tastes. You will return after three or four years with a -Russian princess for a bride, and no one will think more of -what occurred yesterday than if it had happened sixteen -years ago." -"Thank you, my dear Beauchamp, thank you for the excellent -feeling which prompts your advice but it cannot be. I have -told you my wish, or rather my determination. You understand -that, interested as I am in this affair, I cannot see it in -the same light as you do. What appears to you to emanate -from a celestial source, seems to me to proceed from one far -less pure. Providence appears to me to have no share in this -affair and happily so, for instead of the invisible, -impalpable agent of celestial rewards and punishments, I -shall find one both palpable and visible, on whom I shall -revenge myself, I assure you, for all I have suffered during -the last month. Now, I repeat, Beauchamp, I wish to return -to human and material existence, and if you are still the -friend you profess to be, help me to discover the hand that -struck the blow." -"Be it so," said Beauchamp "if you must have me descend to -earth, I submit and if you will seek your enemy, I will -assist you, and I will engage to find him, my honor being -almost as deeply interested as yours." -"Well, then, you understand, Beauchamp, that we begin our -search immediately. Each moment's delay is an eternity for -me. The calumniator is not yet punished, and he may hope -that he will not be but, on my honor, it he thinks so, he -deceives himself." -"Well, listen, Morcerf." -"Ah, Beauchamp, I see you know something already you will -restore me to life." -"I do not say there is any truth in what I am going to tell -you, but it is, at least, a ray of light in a dark night by -following it we may, perhaps, discover something more -certain." -"Tell me satisfy my impatience." -"Well, I will tell you what I did not like to mention on my -return from Yanina." -"Say on." -"I went, of course, to the chief banker of the town to make -inquiries. At the first word, before I had even mentioned -your father's name" -""Ah,' said he. "I guess what brings you here.' -""How, and why?' -""Because a fortnight since I was questioned on the same -subject.' -""By whom?' "By a Paris banker, my correspondent.' -""Whose name is' -""Danglars.'" -"He" cried Albert "yes, it is indeed he who has so long -pursued my father with jealous hatred. He, the man who would -be popular, cannot forgive the Count of Morcerf for being -created a peer and this marriage broken off without a -reason being assigned yes, it is all from the same -cause." -"Make inquiries, Albert, but do not be angry without reason -make inquiries, and if it be true" -"Oh, yes, if it be true," cried the young man, "he shall pay -me all I have suffered." -"Beware, Morcerf, he is already an old man." -"I will respect his age as he has respected the honor of my -family if my father had offended him, why did he not attack -him personally? Oh, no, he was afraid to encounter him face -to face." -"I do not condemn you, Albert I only restrain you. Act -prudently." -"Oh, do not fear besides, you will accompany me. Beauchamp, -solemn transactions should be sanctioned by a witness. -Before this day closes, if M. Danglars is guilty, he shall -cease to live, or I shall die. Pardieu, Beauchamp, mine -shall be a splendid funeral" -"When such resolutions are made, Albert, they should be -promptly executed. Do you wish to go to M. Danglars? Let us -go immediately." They sent for a cabriolet. On entering the -banker's mansion, they perceived the phaeton and servant of -M. Andrea Cavalcanti. "Ah, parbleu, that's good," said -Albert, with a gloomy tone. "If M. Danglars will not fight -with me, I will kill his soninlaw Cavalcanti will -certainly fight." The servant announced the young man but -the banker, recollecting what had transpired the day before, -did not wish him admitted. It was, however, too late Albert -had followed the footman, and, hearing the order given, -forced the door open, and followed by Beauchamp found -himself in the banker's study. "Sir," cried the latter, "am -I no longer at liberty to receive whom I choose in my house? -You appear to forget yourself sadly." -"No, sir," said Albert, coldly "there are circumstances in -which one cannot, except through cowardice, I offer you -that refuge, refuse to admit certain persons at least." -"What is your errand, then, with me, sir?" -"I mean," said Albert, drawing near, and without apparently -noticing Cavalcanti, who stood with his back towards the -fireplace "I mean to propose a meeting in some retired -corner where no one will interrupt us for ten minutes that -will be sufficient where two men having met, one of them -will remain on the ground." Danglars turned pale Cavalcanti -moved a step forward, and Albert turned towards him. "And -you, too," said he, "come, if you like, monsieur you have a -claim, being almost one of the family, and I will give as -many rendezvous of that kind as I can find persons willing -to accept them." Cavalcanti looked at Danglars with a -stupefied air, and the latter, making an effort, arose and -stepped between the two young men. Albert's attack on Andrea -had placed him on a different footing, and he hoped this -visit had another cause than that he had at first supposed. -"Indeed, sir," said he to Albert, "if you are come to -quarrel with this gentleman because I have preferred him to -you, I shall resign the case to the king's attorney." -"You mistake, sir," said Morcerf with a gloomy smile "I am -not referring in the least to matrimony, and I only -addressed myself to M. Cavalcanti because he appeared -disposed to interfere between us. In one respect you are -right, for I am ready to quarrel with every one today but -you have the first claim, M. Danglars." -"Sir," replied Danglars, pale with anger and fear, "I warn -you, when I have the misfortune to meet with a mad dog, I -kill it and far from thinking myself guilty of a crime, I -believe I do society a kindness. Now, if you are mad and try -to bite me, I will kill you without pity. Is it my fault -that your father has dishonored himself?" -"Yes, miserable wretch" cried Morcerf, "it is your fault." -Danglars retreated a few steps. "My fault?" said he "you -must be mad What do I know of the Grecian affair? Have I -travelled in that country? Did I advise your father to sell -the castle of Yanina to betray" -"Silence" said Albert, with a thundering voice. "No it is -not you who have directly made this exposure and brought -this sorrow on us, but you hypocritically provoked it." -"I?" -"Yes you How came it known?" -"I suppose you read it in the paper in the account from -Yanina?" -"Who wrote to Yanina?" -"To Yanina?" -"Yes. Who wrote for particulars concerning my father?" -"I imagine any one may write to Yanina." -"But one person only wrote" -"One only?" -"Yes and that was you" -"I, doubtless, wrote. It appears to me that when about to -marry your daughter to a young man, it is right to make some -inquiries respecting his family it is not only a right, but -a duty." -"You wrote, sir, knowing what answer you would receive." -"I, indeed? I assure you," cried Danglars, with a confidence -and security proceeding less from fear than from the -interest he really felt for the young man, "I solemnly -declare to you, that I should never have thought of writing -to Yanina, did I know anything of Ali Pasha's misfortunes." -"Who, then, urged you to write? Tell me." -"Pardieu, it was the most simple thing in the world. I was -speaking of your father's past history. I said the origin of -his fortune remained obscure. The person to whom I addressed -my scruples asked me where your father had acquired his -property? I answered, "In Greece.' "Then,' said he, -"write to Yanina.'" -"And who thus advised you?" -"No other than your friend, Monte Cristo." -"The Count of Monte Cristo told you to write to Yanina?" -"Yes and I wrote, and will show you my correspondence, if -you like." Albert and Beauchamp looked at each other. "Sir," -said Beauchamp, who had not yet spoken, "you appear to -accuse the count, who is absent from Paris at this moment, -and cannot justify himself." -"I accuse no one, sir," said Danglars "I relate, and I will -repeat before the count what I have said to you." -"Does the count know what answer you received?" -"Yes I showed it to him." -"Did he know my father's Christian name was Fernand, and his -family name Mondego?" -"Yes, I had told him that long since, and I did only what -any other would have done in my circumstances, and perhaps -less. When, the day after the arrival of this answer, your -father came by the advice of Monte Cristo to ask my -daughter's hand for you, I decidedly refused him, but -without any explanation or exposure. In short, why should I -have any more to do with the affair? How did the honor or -disgrace of M. de Morcerf affect me? It neither increased -nor decreased my income." -Albert felt the blood mounting to his brow there was no -doubt upon the subject. Danglars defended himself with the -baseness, but at the same time with the assurance, of a man -who speaks the truth, at least in part, if not wholly not -for conscience' sake, but through fear. Besides, what was -Morcerf seeking? It was not whether Danglars or Monte Cristo -was more or less guilty it was a man who would answer for -the offence, whether trifling or serious it was a man who -would fight, and it was evident Danglars would not fight. -And, in addition to this, everything forgotten or -unperceived before presented itself now to his recollection. -Monte Cristo knew everything, as he had bought the daughter -of Ali Pasha and, knowing everything, he had advised -Danglars to write to Yanina. The answer known, he had -yielded to Albert's wish to be introduced to Haidee, and -allowed the conversation to turn on the death of Ali, and -had not opposed Haidee's recital but having, doubtless, -warned the young girl, in the few Romaic words he spoke to -her, not to implicate Morcerf's father. Besides, had he not -begged of Morcerf not to mention his father's name before -Haidee? Lastly, he had taken Albert to Normandy when he knew -the final blow was near. There could be no doubt that all -had been calculated and previously arranged Monte Cristo -then was in league with his father's enemies. Albert took -Beauchamp aside, and communicated these ideas to him. -"You are right," said the latter "M. Danglars has only been -a secondary agent in this sad affair, and it is of M. de -Monte Cristo that you must demand an explanation." Albert -turned. "Sir," said he to Danglars, "understand that I do -not take a final leave of you I must ascertain if your -insinuations are just, and am going now to inquire of the -Count of Monte Cristo." He bowed to the banker, and went out -with Beauchamp, without appearing to notice Cavalcanti. -Danglars accompanied him to the door, where he again assured -Albert that no motive of personal hatred had influenced him -against the Count of Morcerf. -Chapter -The Insult. -At the banker's door Beauchamp stopped Morcerf. "Listen," -said he "just now I told you it was of M. de Monte Cristo -you must demand an explanation." -"Yes and we are going to his house." -"Reflect, Morcerf, one moment before you go." -"On what shall I reflect?" -"On the importance of the step you are taking." -"Is it more serious than going to M. Danglars?" -"Yes M. Danglars is a moneylover, and those who love -money, you know, think too much of what they risk to be -easily induced to fight a duel. The other is, on the -contrary, to all appearance a true nobleman but do you not -fear to find him a bully?" -"I only fear one thing namely, to find a man who will not -fight." -"Do not be alarmed," said Beauchamp "he will meet you. My -only fear is that he will be too strong for you." -"My friend," said Morcerf, with a sweet smile, "that is what -I wish. The happiest thing that could occur to me, would be -to die in my father's stead that would save us all." -"Your mother would die of grief." -"My poor mother" said Albert, passing his hand across his -eyes, "I know she would but better so than die of shame." -"Are you quite decided, Albert?" -"Yes let us go." -"But do you think we shall find the count at home?" -"He intended returning some hours after me, and doubtless he -is now at home." They ordered the driver to take them to No. - ChampsElysees. Beauchamp wished to go in alone, but -Albert observed that as this was an unusual circumstance he -might be allowed to deviate from the usual etiquette in -affairs of honor. The cause which the young man espoused was -one so sacred that Beauchamp had only to comply with all his -wishes he yielded and contented himself with following -Morcerf. Albert sprang from the porter's lodge to the steps. -He was received by Baptistin. The count had, indeed, just -arrived, but he was in his bath, and had forbidden that any -one should be admitted. "But after his bath?" asked Morcerf. -"My master will go to dinner." -"And after dinner?" -"He will sleep an hour." -"Then?" -"He is going to the opera." -"Are you sure of it?" asked Albert. -"Quite, sir my master has ordered his horses at eight -o'clock precisely." -"Very good," replied Albert "that is all I wished to know." -Then, turning towards Beauchamp, "If you have anything to -attend to, Beauchamp, do it directly if you have any -appointment for this evening, defer it till tomorrow. I -depend on you to accompany me to the opera and if you can, -bring ChateauRenaud with you." -Beauchamp availed himself of Albert's permission, and left -him, promising to call for him at a quarter before eight. On -his return home, Albert expressed his wish to Franz Debray, -and Morrel, to see them at the opera that evening. Then he -went to see his mother, who since the events of the day -before had refused to see any one, and had kept her room. He -found her in bed, overwhelmed with grief at this public -humiliation. The sight of Albert produced the effect which -might naturally be expected on Mercedes she pressed her -son's hand and sobbed aloud, but her tears relieved her. -Albert stood one moment speechless by the side of his -mother's bed. It was evident from his pale face and knit -brows that his resolution to revenge himself was growing -weaker. "My dear mother," said he, "do you know if M. de -Morcerf has any enemy?" Mercedes started she noticed that -the young man did not say "my father." "My son," she said, -"persons in the count's situation have many secret enemies. -Those who are known are not the most dangerous." -"I know it, and appeal to your penetration. You are of so -superior a mind, nothing escapes you." -"Why do you say so?" -"Because, for instance, you noticed on the evening of the -ball we gave, that M. de Monte Cristo would eat nothing in -our house." Mercedes raised herself on her feverish arm. "M. -de Monte Cristo" she exclaimed "and how is he connected -with the question you asked me?" -"You know, mother, M. de Monte Cristo is almost an Oriental, -and it is customary with the Orientals to secure full -liberty for revenge by not eating or drinking in the houses -of their enemies." -"Do you say M. de Monte Cristo is our enemy?" replied -Mercedes, becoming paler than the sheet which covered her. -"Who told you so? Why, you are mad, Albert M. de Monte -Cristo has only shown us kindness. M. de Monte Cristo saved -your life you yourself presented him to us. Oh, I entreat -you, my son, if you had entertained such an idea, dispel it -and my counsel to you nay, my prayer is to retain his -friendship." -"Mother," replied the young man, "you have especial reasons -for telling me to conciliate that man." -"I?" said Mercedes, blushing as rapidly as she had turned -pale, and again becoming paler than ever. -"Yes, doubtless and is it not that he may never do us any -harm?" Mercedes shuddered, and, fixing on her son a -scrutinizing gaze, "You speak strangely," said she to -Albert, "and you appear to have some singular prejudices. -What has the count done? Three days since you were with him -in Normandy only three days since we looked on him as our -best friend." -An ironical smile passed over Albert's lips. Mercedes saw it -and with the double instinct of woman and mother guessed -all but as she was prudent and strongminded she concealed -both her sorrows and her fears. Albert was silent an -instant after, the countess resumed "You came to inquire -after my health I will candidly acknowledge that I am not -well. You should install yourself here, and cheer my -solitude. I do not wish to be left alone." -"Mother," said the young man, "you know how gladly I would -obey your wish, but an urgent and important affair obliges -me to leave you for the whole evening." -"Well," replied Mercedes, sighing, "go, Albert I will not -make you a slave to your filial piety." Albert pretended he -did not hear, bowed to his mother, and quitted her. Scarcely -had he shut her door, when Mercedes called a confidential -servant, and ordered him to follow Albert wherever he should -go that evening, and to come and tell her immediately what -he observed. Then she rang for her lady's maid, and, weak as -she was, she dressed, in order to be ready for whatever -might happen. The footman's mission was an easy one. Albert -went to his room, and dressed with unusual care. At ten -minutes to eight Beauchamp arrived he had seen -ChateauRenaud, who had promised to be in the orchestra -before the curtain was raised. Both got into Albert's coupe -and, as the young man had no reason to conceal where he was -going, he called aloud, "To the opera." In his impatience he -arrived before the beginning of the performance. -ChateauRenaud was at his post apprised by Beauchamp of the -circumstances, he required no explanation from Albert. The -conduct of the son in seeking to avenge his father was so -natural that ChateauRenaud did not seek to dissuade him, -and was content with renewing his assurances of devotion. -Debray was not yet come, but Albert knew that he seldom lost -a scene at the opera. Albert wandered about the theatre -until the curtain was drawn up. He hoped to meet with M. de -Monte Cristo either in the lobby or on the stairs. The bell -summoned him to his seat, and he entered the orchestra with -ChateauRenaud and Beauchamp. But his eyes scarcely quitted -the box between the columns, which remained obstinately -closed during the whole of the first act. At last, as Albert -was looking at his watch for about the hundredth time, at -the beginning of the second act the door opened, and Monte -Cristo entered, dressed in black, and, leaning over the -front of the box, looked around the pit. Morrel followed -him, and looked also for his sister and brother inlaw he -soon discovered them in another box, and kissed his hand to -them. -The count, in his survey of the pit, encountered a pale face -and threatening eyes, which evidently sought to gain his -attention. He recognized Albert, but thought it better not -to notice him, as he looked so angry and discomposed. -Without communicating his thoughts to his companion, he sat -down, drew out his operaglass, and looked another way. -Although apparently not noticing Albert, he did not, -however, lose sight of him, and when the curtain fell at the -end of the second act, he saw him leave the orchestra with -his two friends. Then his head was seen passing at the back -of the boxes, and the count knew that the approaching storm -was intended to fall on him. He was at the moment conversing -cheerfully with Morrel, but he was well prepared for what -might happen. The door opened, and Monte Cristo, turning -round, saw Albert, pale and trembling, followed by Beauchamp -and ChateauRenaud. -"Well," cried he, with that benevolent politeness which -distinguished his salutation from the common civilities of -the world, "my cavalier has attained his object. -Goodevening, M. de Morcerf." The countenance of this man, -who possessed such extraordinary control over his feelings, -expressed the most perfect cordiality. Morrel only then -recollected the letter he had received from the viscount, in -which, without assigning any reason, he begged him to go to -the opera, but he understood that something terrible was -brooding. -"We are not come here, sir, to exchange hypocritical -expressions of politeness, or false professions of -friendship," said Albert, "but to demand an explanation." -The young man's trembling voice was scarcely audible. "An -explanation at the opera?" said the count, with that calm -tone and penetrating eye which characterize the man who -knows his cause is good. "Little acquainted as I am with the -habits of Parisians, I should not have thought this the -place for such a demand." -"Still, if people will shut themselves up," said Albert, -"and cannot be seen because they are bathing, dining, or -asleep, we must avail ourselves of the opportunity whenever -they are to be seen." -"I am not difficult of access, sir for yesterday, if my -memory does not deceive me, you were at my house." -"Yesterday I was at your house, sir," said the young man -"because then I knew not who you were." In pronouncing these -words Albert had raised his voice so as to be heard by those -in the adjoining boxes and in the lobby. Thus the attention -of many was attracted by this altercation. "Where are you -come from, sir? You do not appear to be in the possession of -your senses." -"Provided I understand your perfidy, sir, and succeed in -making you understand that I will be revenged, I shall be -reasonable enough," said Albert furiously. -"I do not understand you, sir," replied Monte Cristo "and -if I did, your tone is too high. I am at home here, and I -alone have a right to raise my voice above another's. Leave -the box, sir" Monte Cristo pointed towards the door with -the most commanding dignity. "Ah, I shall know how to make -you leave your home" replied Albert, clasping in his -convulsed grasp the glove, which Monte Cristo did not lose -sight of. -"Well, well," said Monte Cristo quietly, "I see you wish to -quarrel with me but I would give you one piece of advice, -which you will do well to keep in mind. It is in poor taste -to make a display of a challenge. Display is not becoming to -every one, M. de Morcerf." -At this name a murmur of astonishment passed around the -group of spectators of this scene. They had talked of no one -but Morcerf the whole day. Albert understood the allusion in -a moment, and was about to throw his glove at the count, -when Morrel seized his hand, while Beauchamp and -ChateauRenaud, fearing the scene would surpass the limits -of a challenge, held him back. But Monte Cristo, without -rising, and leaning forward in his chair, merely stretched -out his arm and, taking the damp, crushed glove from the -clinched hand of the young man, "Sir," said he in a solemn -tone, "I consider your glove thrown, and will return it to -you wrapped around a bullet. Now leave me or I will summon -my servants to throw you out at the door." -Wild, almost unconscious, and with eyes inflamed, Albert -stepped back, and Morrel closed the door. Monte Cristo took -up his glass again as if nothing had happened his face was -like marble, and his heart was like bronze. Morrel -whispered, "What have you done to him?" -"I? Nothing at least personally," said Monte Cristo. -"But there must be some cause for this strange scene." -"The Count of Morcerf's adventure exasperates the young -man." -"Have you anything to do with it?" -"It was through Haidee that the Chamber was informed of his -father's treason." -"Indeed?" said Morrel. "I had been told, but would not -credit it, that the Grecian slave I have seen with you here -in this very box was the daughter of Ali Pasha." -"It is true, nevertheless." -"Then," said Morrel, "I understand it all, and this scene -was premeditated." -"How so?" -"Yes. Albert wrote to request me to come to the opera, -doubtless that I might be a witness to the insult he meant -to offer you." -"Probably," said Monte Cristo with his imperturbable -tranquillity. -"But what shall you do with him?" -"With whom?" -"With Albert." -"What shall I do with Albert? As certainly, Maximilian, as I -now press your hand, I shall kill him before ten o'clock -tomorrow morning." Morrel, in his turn, took Monte Cristo's -hand in both of his, and he shuddered to feel how cold and -steady it was. -"Ah, Count," said he, "his father loves him so much" -"Do not speak to me of that," said Monte Cristo, with the -first movement of anger he had betrayed "I will make him -suffer." Morrel, amazed, let fall Monte Cristo's hand. -"Count, count" said he. -"Dear Maximilian," interrupted the count, "listen how -adorably Duprez is singing that line, -"O Mathilde idole de mon ame' -"I was the first to discover Duprez at Naples, and the first -to applaud him. Bravo, bravo" Morrel saw it was useless to -say more, and refrained. The curtain, which had risen at the -close of the scene with Albert, again fell, and a rap was -heard at the door. -"Come in," said Monte Cristo with a voice that betrayed not -the least emotion and immediately Beauchamp appeared. -"Goodevening, M. Beauchamp," said Monte Cristo, as if this -was the first time he had seen the journalist that evening -"be seated." -Beauchamp bowed, and, sitting down, "Sir," said he, "I just -now accompanied M. de Morcerf, as you saw." -"And that means," replied Monte Cristo, laughing, "that you -had, probably, just dined together. I am happy to see, M. -Beauchamp, that you are more sober than he was." -"Sir," said M. Beauchamp, "Albert was wrong, I acknowledge, -to betray so much anger, and I come, on my own account, to -apologize for him. And having done so, entirely on my own -account, be it understood, I would add that I believe you -too gentlemanly to refuse giving him some explanation -concerning your connection with Yanina. Then I will add two -words about the young Greek girl." Monte Cristo motioned him -to be silent. "Come," said he, laughing, "there are all my -hopes about to be destroyed." -"How so?" asked Beauchamp. -"Doubtless you wish to make me appear a very eccentric -character. I am, in your opinion, a Lara, a Manfred, a Lord -Ruthven then, just as I am arriving at the climax, you -defeat your own end, and seek to make an ordinary man of me. -You bring me down to your own level, and demand -explanations Indeed, M. Beauchamp, it is quite laughable." -"Yet," replied Beauchamp haughtily, "there are occasions -when probity commands" -"M. Beauchamp," interposed this strange man, "the Count of -Monte Cristo bows to none but the Count of Monte Cristo -himself. Say no more, I entreat you. I do what I please, M. -Beauchamp, and it is always well done." -"Sir," replied the young man, "honest men are not to be paid -with such coin. I require honorable guaranties." -"I am, sir, a living guaranty," replied Monte Cristo, -motionless, but with a threatening look "we have both blood -in our veins which we wish to shed that is our mutual -guaranty. Tell the viscount so, and that tomorrow, before -ten o'clock, I shall see what color his is." -"Then I have only to make arrangements for the duel," said -Beauchamp. -"It is quite immaterial to me," said Monte Cristo, "and it -was very unnecessary to disturb me at the opera for such a -trifle. In France people fight with the sword or pistol, in -the colonies with the carbine, in Arabia with the dagger. -Tell your client that, although I am the insulted party, in -order to carry out my eccentricity, I leave him the choice -of arms, and will accept without discussion, without -dispute, anything, even combat by drawing lots, which is -always stupid, but with me different from other people, as I -am sure to gain." -"Sure to gain" repeated Beauchamp, looking with amazement -at the count. -"Certainly," said Monte Cristo, slightly shrugging his -shoulders "otherwise I would not fight with M. de Morcerf. -I shall kill him I cannot help it. Only by a single line -this evening at my house let me know the arms and the hour -I do not like to be kept waiting." -"Pistols, then, at eight o'clock, in the Bois de Vincennes," -said Beauchamp, quite disconcerted, not knowing if he was -dealing with an arrogant braggadocio or a supernatural -being. -"Very well, sir," said Monte Cristo. "Now all that is -settled, do let me see the performance, and tell your friend -Albert not to come any more this evening he will hurt -himself with all his illchosen barbarisms let him go home -and go to sleep." Beauchamp left the box, perfectly amazed. -"Now," said Monte Cristo, turning towards Morrel, "I may -depend upon you, may I not?" -"Certainly," said Morrel, "I am at your service, count -still" -"What?" -"It is desirable I should know the real cause." -"That is to say, you would rather not?" -"No." -"The young man himself is acting blindfolded, and knows not -the true cause, which is known only to God and to me but I -give you my word, Morrel, that God, who does know it, will -be on our side." -"Enough," said Morrel "who is your second witness?" -"I know no one in Paris, Morrel, on whom I could confer that -honor besides you and your brother Emmanuel. Do you think -Emmanuel would oblige me?" -"I will answer for him, count." -"Well? that is all I require. Tomorrow morning, at seven -o'clock, you will be with me, will you not?" -"We will." -"Hush, the curtain is rising. Listen I never lose a note of -this opera if I can avoid it the music of William Tell is -so sweet." -Chapter -A Nocturnal Interview. -Monte Cristo waited, according to his usual custom, until -Duprez had sung his famous "Suivezmoi" then he rose and -went out. Morrel took leave of him at the door, renewing his -promise to be with him the next morning at seven o'clock, -and to bring Emmanuel. Then he stepped into his coupe, calm -and smiling, and was at home in five minutes. No one who -knew the count could mistake his expression when, on -entering, he said, "Ali, bring me my pistols with the ivory -cross." -Ali brought the box to his master, who examined the weapons -with a solicitude very natural to a man who is about to -intrust his life to a little powder and shot. These were -pistols of an especial pattern, which Monte Cristo had had -made for target practice in his own room. A cap was -sufficient to drive out the bullet, and from the adjoining -room no one would have suspected that the count was, as -sportsmen would say, keeping his hand in. He was just taking -one up and looking for the point to aim at on a little iron -plate which served him as a target, when his study door -opened, and Baptistin entered. Before he had spoken a word, -the count saw in the next room a veiled woman, who had -followed closely after Baptistin, and now, seeing the count -with a pistol in his hand and swords on the table, rushed -in. Baptistin looked at his master, who made a sign to him, -and he went out, closing the door after him. "Who are you, -madame?" said the count to the veiled woman. -The stranger cast one look around her, to be certain that -they were quite alone then bending as if she would have -knelt, and joining her hands, she said with an accent of -despair, "Edmond, you will not kill my son?" The count -retreated a step, uttered a slight exclamation, and let fall -the pistol he held. "What name did you pronounce then, -Madame de Morcerf?" said he. "Yours" cried she, throwing -back her veil, "yours, which I alone, perhaps, have not -forgotten. Edmond, it is not Madame de Morcerf who is come -to you, it is Mercedes." -"Mercedes is dead, madame," said Monte Cristo "I know no -one now of that name." -"Mercedes lives, sir, and she remembers, for she alone -recognized you when she saw you, and even before she saw -you, by your voice, Edmond, by the simple sound of your -voice and from that moment she has followed your steps, -watched you, feared you, and she needs not to inquire what -hand has dealt the blow which now strikes M. de Morcerf." -"Fernand, do you mean?" replied Monte Cristo, with bitter -irony "since we are recalling names, let us remember them -all." Monte Cristo had pronounced the name of Fernand with -such an expression of hatred that Mercedes felt a thrill of -horror run through every vein. "You see, Edmond, I am not -mistaken, and have cause to say, "Spare my son'" -"And who told you, madame, that I have any hostile -intentions against your son?" -"No one, in truth but a mother has twofold sight. I guessed -all I followed him this evening to the opera, and, -concealed in a parquet box, have seen all." -"If you have seen all, madame, you know that the son of -Fernand has publicly insulted me," said Monte Cristo with -awful calmness. -"Oh, for pity's sake" -"You have seen that he would have thrown his glove in my -face if Morrel, one of my friends, had not stopped him." -"Listen to me, my son has also guessed who you are, he -attributes his father's misfortunes to you." -"Madame, you are mistaken, they are not misfortunes, it -is a punishment. It is not I who strike M. de Morcerf it is -providence which punishes him." -"And why do you represent providence?" cried Mercedes. "Why -do you remember when it forgets? What are Yanina and its -vizier to you, Edmond? What injury his Fernand Mondego done -you in betraying Ali Tepelini?" -"Ah, madame," replied Monte Cristo, "all this is an affair -between the French captain and the daughter of Vasiliki. It -does not concern me, you are right and if I have sworn to -revenge myself, it is not on the French captain, or the -Count of Morcerf, but on the fisherman Fernand, the husband -of Mercedes the Catalane." -"Ah, sir" cried the countess, "how terrible a vengeance for -a fault which fatality made me commit for I am the only -culprit, Edmond, and if you owe revenge to any one, it is to -me, who had not fortitude to bear your absence and my -solitude." -"But," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "why was I absent? And why -were you alone?" -"Because you had been arrested, Edmond, and were a -prisoner." -"And why was I arrested? Why was I a prisoner?" -"I do not know," said Mercedes. "You do not, madame at -least, I hope not. But I will tell you. I was arrested and -became a prisoner because, under the arbor of La Reserve, -the day before I was to marry you, a man named Danglars -wrote this letter, which the fisherman Fernand himself -posted." Monte Cristo went to a secretary, opened a drawer -by a spring, from which he took a paper which had lost its -original color, and the ink of which had become of a rusty -hue this he placed in the hands of Mercedes. It was -Danglars' letter to the king's attorney, which the Count of -Monte Cristo, disguised as a clerk from the house of Thomson - French, had taken from the file against Edmond Dantes, on -the day he had paid the two hundred thousand francs to M. de -Boville. Mercedes read with terror the following lines -"The king's attorney is informed by a friend to the throne -and religion that one Edmond Dantes, second in command on -board the Pharaon, this day arrived from Smyrna, after -having touched at Naples and PortoFerrajo, is the bearer of -a letter from Murat to the usurper, and of another letter -from the usurper to the Bonapartist club in Paris. Ample -corroboration of this statement may be obtained by arresting -the abovementioned Edmond Dantes, who either carries the -letter for Paris about with him, or has it at his father's -abode. Should it not be found in possession of either father -or son, then it will assuredly be discovered in the cabin -belonging to the said Dantes on board the Pharaon." -"How dreadful" said Mercedes, passing her hand across her -brow, moist with perspiration "and that letter" -"I bought it for two hundred thousand francs, madame," said -Monte Cristo "but that is a trifle, since it enables me to -justify myself to you." -"And the result of that letter" -"You well know, madame, was my arrest but you do not know -how long that arrest lasted. You do not know that I remained -for fourteen years within a quarter of a league of you, in a -dungeon in the Chateau d'If. You do not know that every day -of those fourteen years I renewed the vow of vengeance which -I had made the first day and yet I was not aware that you -had married Fernand, my calumniator, and that my father had -died of hunger" -"Can it be?" cried Mercedes, shuddering. -"That is what I heard on leaving my prison fourteen years -after I had entered it and that is why, on account of the -living Mercedes and my deceased father, I have sworn to -revenge myself on Fernand, and I have revenged myself." -"And you are sure the unhappy Fernand did that?" -"I am satisfied, madame, that he did what I have told you -besides, that is not much more odious than that a Frenchman -by adoption should pass over to the English that a Spaniard -by birth should have fought against the Spaniards that a -stipendiary of Ali should have betrayed and murdered Ali. -Compared with such things, what is the letter you have just -read? a lover's deception, which the woman who has -married that man ought certainly to forgive but not so the -lover who was to have married her. Well, the French did not -avenge themselves on the traitor, the Spaniards did not -shoot the traitor, Ali in his tomb left the traitor -unpunished but I, betrayed, sacrificed, buried, have risen -from my tomb, by the grace of God, to punish that man. He -sends me for that purpose, and here I am." The poor woman's -head and arms fell her legs bent under her, and she fell on -her knees. "Forgive, Edmond, forgive for my sake, who love -you still" -The dignity of the wife checked the fervor of the lover and -the mother. Her forehead almost touched the carpet, when the -count sprang forward and raised her. Then seated on a chair, -she looked at the manly countenance of Monte Cristo, on -which grief and hatred still impressed a threatening -expression. "Not crush that accursed race?" murmured he -"abandon my purpose at the moment of its accomplishment? -Impossible, madame, impossible" -"Edmond," said the poor mother, who tried every means, "when -I call you Edmond, why do you not call me Mercedes?" -"Mercedes" repeated Monte Cristo "Mercedes Well yes, you -are right that name has still its charms, and this is the -first time for a long period that I have pronounced it so -distinctly. Oh, Mercedes, I have uttered your name with the -sigh of melancholy, with the groan of sorrow, with the last -effort of despair I have uttered it when frozen with cold, -crouched on the straw in my dungeon I have uttered it, -consumed with heat, rolling on the stone floor of my prison. -Mercedes, I must revenge myself, for I suffered fourteen -years, fourteen years I wept, I cursed now I tell you, -Mercedes, I must revenge myself." -The count, fearing to yield to the entreaties of her he had -so ardently loved, called his sufferings to the assistance -of his hatred. "Revenge yourself, then, Edmond," cried the -poor mother "but let your vengeance fall on the culprits, -on him, on me, but not on my son" -"It is written in the good book," said Monte Cristo, "that -the sins of the fathers shall fall upon their children to -the third and fourth generation. Since God himself dictated -those words to his prophet, why should I seek to make myself -better than God?" -"Edmond," continued Mercedes, with her arms extended towards -the count, "since I first knew you, I have adored your name, -have respected your memory. Edmond, my friend, do not compel -me to tarnish that noble and pure image reflected -incessantly on the mirror of my heart. Edmond, if you knew -all the prayers I have addressed to God for you while I -thought you were living and since I have thought you must be -dead Yes, dead, alas I imagined your dead body buried at -the foot of some gloomy tower, or cast to the bottom of a -pit by hateful jailers, and I wept What could I do for you, -Edmond, besides pray and weep? Listen for ten years I -dreamed each night the same dream. I had been told that you -had endeavored to escape that you had taken the place of -another prisoner that you had slipped into the winding -sheet of a dead body that you had been thrown alive from -the top of the Chateau d'If, and that the cry you uttered as -you dashed upon the rocks first revealed to your jailers -that they were your murderers. Well, Edmond, I swear to you, -by the head of that son for whom I entreat your pity, -Edmond, for ten years I saw every night every detail of that -frightful tragedy, and for ten years I heard every night the -cry which awoke me, shuddering and cold. And I, too, Edmond -oh believe me guilty as I was oh, yes, I, too, -have suffered much" -"Have you known what it is to have your father starve to -death in your absence?" cried Monte Cristo, thrusting his -hands into his hair "have you seen the woman you loved -giving her hand to your rival, while you were perishing at -the bottom of a dungeon?" -"No," interrupted Mercedes, "but I have seen him whom I -loved on the point of murdering my son." Mercedes uttered -these words with such deep anguish, with an accent of such -intense despair, that Monte Cristo could not restrain a sob. -The lion was daunted the avenger was conquered. "What do -you ask of me?" said he, "your son's life? Well, he shall -live" Mercedes uttered a cry which made the tears start -from Monte Cristo's eyes but these tears disappeared almost -instantaneously, for, doubtless, God had sent some angel to -collect them far more precious were they in his eyes than -the richest pearls of Guzerat and Ophir. -"Oh," said she, seizing the count's hand and raising it to -her lips "oh, thank you, thank you, Edmond Now you are -exactly what I dreamt you were, the man I always loved. -Oh, now I may say so" -"So much the better," replied Monte Cristo "as that poor -Edmond will not have long to be loved by you. Death is about -to return to the tomb, the phantom to retire in darkness." -"What do you say, Edmond?" -"I say, since you command me, Mercedes, I must die." -"Die? and why so? Who talks of dying? Whence have you these -ideas of death?" -"You do not suppose that, publicly outraged in the face of a -whole theatre, in the presence of your friends and those of -your son challenged by a boy who will glory in my -forgiveness as if it were a victory you do not suppose -that I can for one moment wish to live. What I most loved -after you, Mercedes, was myself, my dignity, and that -strength which rendered me superior to other men that -strength was my life. With one word you have crushed it, and -I die." -"But the duel will not take place, Edmond, since you -forgive?" -"It will take place," said Monte Cristo, in a most solemn -tone "but instead of your son's blood to stain the ground, -mine will flow." Mercedes shrieked, and sprang towards Monte -Cristo, but, suddenly stopping, "Edmond," said she, "there -is a God above us, since you live and since I have seen you -again I trust to him from my heart. While waiting his -assistance I trust to your word you have said that my son -should live, have you not?" -"Yes, madame, he shall live," said Monte Cristo, surprised -that without more emotion Mercedes had accepted the heroic -sacrifice he made for her. Mercedes extended her hand to the -count. -"Edmond," said she, and her eyes were wet with tears while -looking at him to whom she spoke, "how noble it is of you, -how great the action you have just performed, how sublime to -have taken pity on a poor woman who appealed to you with -every chance against her, Alas, I am grown old with grief -more than with years, and cannot now remind my Edmond by a -smile, or by a look, of that Mercedes whom he once spent so -many hours in contemplating. Ah, believe me, Edmond, as I -told you, I too have suffered much I repeat, it is -melancholy to pass one's life without having one joy to -recall, without preserving a single hope but that proves -that all is not yet over. No, it is not finished I feel it -by what remains in my heart. Oh, I repeat it, Edmond what -you have just done is beautiful it is grand it is -sublime." -"Do you say so now, Mercedes? then what would you say if -you knew the extent of the sacrifice I make to you? Suppose -that the Supreme Being, after having created the world and -fertilized chaos, had paused in the work to spare an angel -the tears that might one day flow for mortal sins from her -immortal eyes suppose that when everything was in readiness -and the moment had come for God to look upon his work and -see that it was good suppose he had snuffed out the sun -and tossed the world back into eternal night then even -then, Mercedes, you could not imagine what I lose in -sacrificing my life at this moment." Mercedes looked at the -count in a way which expressed at the same time her -astonishment, her admiration, and her gratitude. Monte -Cristo pressed his forehead on his burning hands, as if his -brain could no longer bear alone the weight of its thoughts. -"Edmond," said Mercedes, "I have but one word more to say to -you." The count smiled bitterly. "Edmond," continued she, -"you will see that if my face is pale, if my eyes are dull, -if my beauty is gone if Mercedes, in short, no longer -resembles her former self in her features, you will see that -her heart is still the same. Adieu, then, Edmond I have -nothing more to ask of heaven I have seen you again, and -have found you as noble and as great as formerly you were. -Adieu, Edmond, adieu, and thank you." -But the count did not answer. Mercedes opened the door of -the study and had disappeared before he had recovered from -the painful and profound revery into which his thwarted -vengeance had plunged him. The clock of the Invalides struck -one when the carriage which conveyed Madame de Morcerf away -rolled on the pavement of the ChampsElysees, and made Monte -Cristo raise his head. "What a fool I was," said he, "not to -tear my heart out on the day when I resolved to avenge -myself" -Chapter -The Meeting. -After Mercedes had left Monte Cristo, he fell into profound -gloom. Around him and within him the flight of thought -seemed to have stopped his energetic mind slumbered, as the -body does after extreme fatigue. "What?" said he to himself, -while the lamp and the wax lights were nearly burnt out, and -the servants were waiting impatiently in the anteroom -"what? this edifice which I have been so long preparing, -which I have reared with so much care and toil, is to be -crushed by a single touch, a word, a breath Yes, this self, -of whom I thought so much, of whom I was so proud, who had -appeared so worthless in the dungeons of the Chateau d'If, -and whom I had succeeded in making so great, will be but a -lump of clay tomorrow. Alas, it is not the death of the -body I regret for is not the destruction of the vital -principle, the repose to which everything is tending, to -which every unhappy being aspires, is not this the repose -of matter after which I so long sighed, and which I was -seeking to attain by the painful process of starvation when -Faria appeared in my dungeon? What is death for me? One step -farther into rest, two, perhaps, into silence. -"No, it is not existence, then, that I regret, but the ruin -of projects so slowly carried out, so laboriously framed. -Providence is now opposed to them, when I most thought it -would be propitious. It is not God's will that they should -be accomplished. This burden, almost as heavy as a world, -which I had raised, and I had thought to bear to the end, -was too great for my strength, and I was compelled to lay it -down in the middle of my career. Oh, shall I then, again -become a fatalist, whom fourteen years of despair and ten of -hope had rendered a believer in providence? And all this -all this, because my heart, which I thought dead, was only -sleeping because it has awakened and has begun to beat -again, because I have yielded to the pain of the emotion -excited in my breast by a woman's voice. Yet," continued the -count, becoming each moment more absorbed in the -anticipation of the dreadful sacrifice for the morrow, which -Mercedes had accepted, "yet, it is impossible that so -nobleminded a woman should thus through selfishness consent -to my death when I am in the prime of life and strength it -is impossible that she can carry to such a point maternal -love, or rather delirium. There are virtues which become -crimes by exaggeration. No, she must have conceived some -pathetic scene she will come and throw herself between us -and what would be sublime here will there appear -ridiculous." The blush of pride mounted to the count's -forehead as this thought passed through his mind. -"Ridiculous?" repeated he "and the ridicule will fall on -me. I ridiculous? No, I would rather die." -By thus exaggerating to his own mind the anticipated -illfortune of the next day, to which he had condemned -himself by promising Mercedes to spare her son, the count at -last exclaimed, "Folly, folly, folly to carry generosity -so far as to put myself up as a mark for that young man to -aim at. He will never believe that my death was suicide and -yet it is important for the honor of my memory, and this -surely is not vanity, but a justifiable pride, it is -important the world should know that I have consented, by my -free will, to stop my arm, already raised to strike, and -that with the arm which has been so powerful against others -I have struck myself. It must be it shall be." -Seizing a pen, he drew a paper from a secret drawer in his -desk, and wrote at the bottom of the document which was no -other than his will, made since his arrival in Paris a sort -of codicil, clearly explaining the nature of his death. "I -do this, O my God," said he, with his eyes raised to heaven, -"as much for thy honor as for mine. I have during ten years -considered myself the agent of thy vengeance, and other -wretches, like Morcerf, Danglars, Villefort, even Morcerf -himself, must not imagine that chance has freed them from -their enemy. Let them know, on the contrary, that their -punishment, which had been decreed by providence, is only -delayed by my present determination, and although they -escape it in this world, it awaits them in another, and that -they are only exchanging time for eternity." -While he was thus agitated by gloomy uncertainties, -wretched waking dreams of grief, the first rays of -morning pierced his windows, and shone upon the pale blue -paper on which he had just inscribed his justification of -providence. It was just five o'clock in the morning when a -slight noise like a stifled sigh reached his ear. He turned -his head, looked around him, and saw no one but the sound -was repeated distinctly enough to convince him of its -reality. -He arose, and quietly opening the door of the drawingroom, -saw Haidee, who had fallen on a chair, with her arms hanging -down and her beautiful head thrown back. She had been -standing at the door, to prevent his going out without -seeing her, until sleep, which the young cannot resist, had -overpowered her frame, wearied as she was with watching. The -noise of the door did not awaken her, and Monte Cristo gazed -at her with affectionate regret. "She remembered that she -had a son," said he "and I forgot I had a daughter." Then, -shaking his head sorrowfully, "Poor Haidee," said he "she -wished to see me, to speak to me she has feared or guessed -something. Oh, I cannot go without taking leave of her I -cannot die without confiding her to some one." He quietly -regained his seat, and wrote under the other lines -"I bequeath to Maximilian Morrel, captain of Spahis, and -son of my former patron, Pierre Morrel, shipowner at -Marseilles, the sum of twenty millions, a part of which -may be offered to his sister Julia and brotherinlaw -Emmanuel, if he does not fear this increase of fortune may -mar their happiness. These twenty millions are concealed in -my grotto at Monte Cristo, of which Bertuccio knows the -secret. If his heart is free, and he will marry Haidee, the -daughter of Ali Pasha of Yanina, whom I have brought up with -the love of a father, and who has shown the love and -tenderness of a daughter for me, he will thus accomplish my -last wish. This will has already constituted Haidee heiress -of the rest of my fortune, consisting of lands, funds in -England, Austria, and Holland, furniture in my different -palaces and houses, and which without the twenty millions -and the legacies to my servants, may still amount to sixty -millions." -He was finishing the last line when a cry behind him made -him start, and the pen fell from his hand. "Haidee," said -he, "did you read it?" -"Oh, my lord," said she, "why are you writing thus at such -an hour? Why are you bequeathing all your fortune to me? Are -you going to leave me?" -"I am going on a journey, dear child," said Monte Cristo, -with an expression of infinite tenderness and melancholy -"and if any misfortune should happen to me" -The count stopped. "Well?" asked the young girl, with an -authoritative tone the count had never observed before, and -which startled him. "Well, if any misfortune happen to me," -replied Monte Cristo, "I wish my daughter to be happy." -Haidee smiled sorrowfully, and shook her head. "Do you think -of dying, my lord?" said she. -"The wise man, my child, has said, "It is good to think of -death.'" -"Well, if you die," said she, "bequeath your fortune to -others, for if you die I shall require nothing" and, taking -the paper, she tore it in four pieces, and threw it into the -middle of the room. Then, the effort having exhausted her -strength, she fell not asleep this time, but fainting on the -floor. The count leaned over her and raised her in his arms -and seeing that sweet pale face, those lovely eyes closed, -that beautiful form motionless and to all appearance -lifeless, the idea occurred to him for the first time, that -perhaps she loved him otherwise than as a daughter loves a -father. -"Alas," murmured he, with intense suffering, "I might, then, -have been happy yet." Then he carried Haidee to her room, -resigned her to the care of her attendants, and returning to -his study, which he shut quickly this time, he again copied -the destroyed will. As he was finishing, the sound of a -cabriolet entering the yard was heard. Monte Cristo -approached the window, and saw Maximilian and Emmanuel -alight. "Good," said he "it was time," and he sealed his -will with three seals. A moment afterwards he heard a noise -in the drawingroom, and went to open the door himself. -Morrel was there he had come twenty minutes before the time -appointed. "I am perhaps come too soon, count," said he, -"but I frankly acknowledge that I have not closed my eyes -all night, nor has any one in my house. I need to see you -strong in your courageous assurance, to recover myself." -Monte Cristo could not resist this proof of affection he -not only extended his hand to the young man, but flew to him -with open arms. "Morrel," said he, "it is a happy day for -me, to feel that I am beloved by such a man as you. -Goodmorning, Emmanuel you will come with me then, -Maximilian?" -"Did you doubt it?" said the young captain. -"But if I were wrong" -"I watched you during the whole scene of that challenge -yesterday I have been thinking of your firmness all night, -and I said to myself that justice must be on your side, or -man's countenance is no longer to be relied on." -"But, Morrel, Albert is your friend?" -"Simply an acquaintance, sir." -"You met on the same day you first saw me?" -"Yes, that is true but I should not have recollected it if -you had not reminded me." -"Thank you, Morrel." Then ringing the bell once, "Look." -said he to Ali, who came immediately, "take that to my -solicitor. It is my will, Morrel. When I am dead, you will -go and examine it." -"What?" said Morrel, "you dead?" -"Yes must I not be prepared for everything, dear friend? -But what did you do yesterday after you left me?" -"I went to Tortoni's, where, as I expected, I found -Beauchamp and ChateauRenaud. I own I was seeking them." -"Why, when all was arranged?" -"Listen, count the affair is serious and unavoidable." -"Did you doubt it" -"No the offence was public, and every one is already -talking of it." -"Well?" -"Well, I hoped to get an exchange of arms, to substitute -the sword for the pistol the pistol is blind." -"Have you succeeded?" asked Monte Cristo quickly, with an -imperceptible gleam of hope. -"No for your skill with the sword is so well known." -"Ah? who has betrayed me?" -"The skilful swordsman whom you have conquered." -"And you failed?" -"They positively refused." -"Morrel," said the count, "have you ever seen me fire a -pistol?" -"Never." -"Well, we have time look." Monte Cristo took the pistols he -held in his hand when Mercedes entered, and fixing an ace of -clubs against the iron plate, with four shots he -successively shot off the four sides of the club. At each -shot Morrel turned pale. He examined the bullets with which -Monte Cristo performed this dexterous feat, and saw that -they were no larger than buckshot. "It is astonishing," said -he. "Look, Emmanuel." Then turning towards Monte Cristo, -"Count," said he, "in the name of all that is dear to you, I -entreat you not to kill Albert the unhappy youth has a -mother." -"You are right," said Monte Cristo "and I have none." These -words were uttered in a tone which made Morrel shudder. "You -are the offended party, count." -"Doubtless what does that imply?" -"That you will fire first." -"I fire first?" -"Oh, I obtained, or rather claimed that we had conceded -enough for them to yield us that." -"And at what distance?" -"Twenty paces." A smile of terrible import passed over the -count's lips. "Morrel," said he, "do not forget what you -have just seen." -"The only chance for Albert's safety, then, will arise from -your emotion." -"I suffer from emotion?" said Monte Cristo. -"Or from your generosity, my friend to so good a marksman -as you are, I may say what would appear absurd to another." -"What is that?" -"Break his arm wound him but do not kill him." -"I will tell you, Morrel," said the count, "that I do not -need entreating to spare the life of M. de Morcerf he shall -be so well spared, that he will return quietly with his two -friends, while I" -"And you?" -"That will be another thing I shall be brought home." -"No, no," cried Maximilian, quite unable to restrain his -feelings. -"As I told you, my dear Morrel, M. de Morcerf will kill me." -Morrel looked at him in utter amazement. "But what has -happened, then, since last evening, count?" -"The same thing that happened to Brutus the night before the -battle of Philippi I have seen a ghost." -"And that ghost" -"Told me, Morrel, that I had lived long enough." Maximilian -and Emmanuel looked at each other. Monte Cristo drew out his -watch. "Let us go," said he "it is five minutes past seven, -and the appointment was for eight o'clock." A carriage was -in readiness at the door. Monte Cristo stepped into it with -his two friends. He had stopped a moment in the passage to -listen at a door, and Maximilian and Emmanuel, who had -considerately passed forward a few steps, thought they heard -him answer by a sigh to a sob from within. As the clock -struck eight they drove up to the place of meeting. "We are -first," said Morrel, looking out of the window. "Excuse me, -sir," said Baptistin, who had followed his master with -indescribable terror, "but I think I see a carriage down -there under the trees." -Monte Cristo sprang lightly from the carriage, and offered -his hand to assist Emmanuel and Maximilian. The latter -retained the count's hand between his. "I like," said he, -"to feel a hand like this, when its owner relies on the -goodness of his cause." -"It seems to me," said Emmanuel, "that I see two young men -down there, who are evidently, waiting." Monte Cristo drew -Morrel a step or two behind his brotherinlaw. -"Maximilian," said he, "are your affections disengaged?" -Morrel looked at Monte Cristo with astonishment. "I do not -seek your confidence, my dear friend. I only ask you a -simple question answer it that is all I require." -"I love a young girl, count." -"Do you love her much?" -"More than my life." -"Another hope defeated" said the count. Then, with a sigh, -"Poor Haidee" murmured he. -"To tell the truth, count, if I knew less of you, I should -think that you were less brave than you are." -"Because I sigh when thinking of some one I am leaving? -Come, Morrel, it is not like a soldier to be so bad a judge -of courage. Do I regret life? What is it to me, who have -passed twenty years between life and death? Moreover, do not -alarm yourself, Morrel this weakness, if it is such, is -betrayed to you alone. I know the world is a drawingroom, -from which we must retire politely and honestly that is, -with a bow, and our debts of honor paid." -"That is to the purpose. Have you brought your arms?" -"I? what for? I hope these gentlemen have theirs." -"I will inquire," said Morrel. -"Do but make no treaty you understand me?" -"You need not fear." Morrel advanced towards Beauchamp and -ChateauRenaud, who, seeing his intention, came to meet him. -The three young men bowed to each other courteously, if not -affably. -"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Morrel, "but I do not see M. de -Morcerf." -"He sent us word this morning," replied ChateauRenaud, -"that he would meet us on the ground." -"Ah," said Morrel. Beauchamp pulled out his watch. "It is -only five minutes past eight," said he to Morrel "there is -not much time lost yet." -"Oh, I made no allusion of that kind," replied Morrel. -"There is a carriage coming," said ChateauRenaud. It -advanced rapidly along one of the avenues leading towards -the open space where they were assembled. "You are doubtless -provided with pistols, gentlemen? M. de Monte Cristo yields -his right of using his." -"We had anticipated this kindness on the part of the count," -said Beauchamp, "and I have brought some weapons which I -bought eight or ten days since, thinking to want them on a -similar occasion. They are quite new, and have not yet been -used. Will you examine them." -"Oh, M. Beauchamp, if you assure me that M. de Morcerf does -not know these pistols, you may readily believe that your -word will be quite sufficient." -"Gentlemen," said ChateauRenaud, "it is not Morcerf coming -in that carriage faith, it is Franz and Debray" The two -young men he announced were indeed approaching. "What chance -brings you here, gentlemen?" said ChateauRenaud, shaking -hands with each of them. "Because," said Debray, "Albert -sent this morning to request us to come." Beauchamp and -ChateauRenaud exchanged looks of astonishment. "I think I -understand his reason," said Morrel. -"What is it?" -"Yesterday afternoon I received a letter from M. de Morcerf, -begging me to attend the opera." -"And I," said Debray. -"And I also," said Franz. -"And we, too," added Beauchamp and ChateauRenaud. -"Having wished you all to witness the challenge, he now -wishes you to be present at the combat." -"Exactly so," said the young men "you have probably guessed -right." -"But, after all these arrangements, he does not come -himself," said ChateauRenaud. "Albert is ten minutes after -time." -"There he comes," said Beauchamp, "on horseback, at full -gallop, followed by a servant." -"How imprudent," said ChateauRenaud, "to come on horseback -to fight a duel with pistols, after all the instructions I -had given him." -"And besides," said Beauchamp, "with a collar above his -cravat, an open coat and white waistcoat Why has he not -painted a spot upon his heart? it would have been more -simple." Meanwhile Albert had arrived within ten paces of -the group formed by the five young men. He jumped from his -horse, threw the bridle on his servant's arms, and joined -them. He was pale, and his eyes were red and swollen it was -evident that he had not slept. A shade of melancholy gravity -overspread his countenance, which was not natural to him. "I -thank you, gentlemen," said he, "for having complied with my -request I feel extremely grateful for this mark of -friendship." Morrel had stepped back as Morcerf approached, -and remained at a short distance. "And to you also, M. -Morrel, my thanks are due. Come, there cannot be too many." -"Sir," said Maximilian, "you are not perhaps aware that I am -M. de Monte Cristo's friend?" -"I was not sure, but I thought it might be so. So much the -better the more honorable men there are here the better I -shall be satisfied." -"M. Morrel," said ChateauRenaud, "will you apprise the -Count of Monte Cristo that M. de Morcerf is arrived, and we -are at his disposal?" Morrel was preparing to fulfil his -commission. Beauchamp had meanwhile drawn the box of pistols -from the carriage. "Stop, gentlemen," said Albert "I have -two words to say to the Count of Monte Cristo." -"In private?" asked Morrel. -"No, sir before all who are here." -Albert's witnesses looked at each other. Franz and Debray -exchanged some words in a whisper, and Morrel, rejoiced at -this unexpected incident, went to fetch the count, who was -walking in a retired path with Emmanuel. "What does he want -with me?" said Monte Cristo. -"I do not know, but he wishes to speak to you." -"Ah?" said Monte Cristo, "I trust he is not going to tempt -me by some fresh insult" -"I do not think that such is his intention," said Morrel. -The count advanced, accompanied by Maximilian and Emmanuel. -His calm and serene look formed a singular contrast to -Albert's griefstricken face, who approached also, followed -by the other four young men. When at three paces distant -from each other, Albert and the count stopped. -"Approach, gentlemen," said Albert "I wish you not to lose -one word of what I am about to have the honor of saying to -the Count of Monte Cristo, for it must be repeated by you to -all who will listen to it, strange as it may appear to you." -"Proceed, sir," said the count. -"Sir," said Albert, at first with a tremulous voice, but -which gradually became firmer, "I reproached you with -exposing the conduct of M. de Morcerf in Epirus, for guilty -as I knew he was, I thought you had no right to punish him -but I have since learned that you had that right. It is not -Fernand Mondego's treachery towards Ali Pasha which induces -me so readily to excuse you, but the treachery of the -fisherman Fernand towards you, and the almost unheardof -miseries which were its consequences and I say, and -proclaim it publicly, that you were justified in revenging -yourself on my father, and I, his son, thank you for not -using greater severity." -Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of the spectators of -this unexpected scene, it would not have surprised them more -than did Albert's declaration. As for Monte Cristo, his eyes -slowly rose towards heaven with an expression of infinite -gratitude. He could not understand how Albert's fiery -nature, of which he had seen so much among the Roman -bandits, had suddenly stooped to this humiliation. He -recognized the influence of Mercedes, and saw why her noble -heart had not opposed the sacrifice she knew beforehand -would be useless. "Now, sir," said Albert, "if you think my -apology sufficient, pray give me your hand. Next to the -merit of infallibility which you appear to possess, I rank -that of candidly acknowledging a fault. But this confession -concerns me only. I acted well as a man, but you have acted -better than man. An angel alone could have saved one of us -from death that angel came from heaven, if not to make us -friends which, alas, fatality renders impossible, at least -to make us esteem each other." -Monte Cristo, with moistened eye, heaving breast, and lips -half open, extended to Albert a hand which the latter -pressed with a sentiment resembling respectful fear. -"Gentlemen," said he, "M. de Monte Cristo receives my -apology. I had acted hastily towards him. Hasty actions are -generally bad ones. Now my fault is repaired. I hope the -world will not call me cowardly for acting as my conscience -dictated. But if any one should entertain a false opinion of -me," added he, drawing himself up as if he would challenge -both friends and enemies, "I shall endeavor to correct his -mistake." -"What happened during the night?" asked Beauchamp of -ChateauRenaud "we appear to make a very sorry figure -here." -"In truth, what Albert has just done is either very -despicable or very noble," replied the baron. -"What can it mean?" said Debray to Franz. "The Count of -Monte Cristo acts dishonorably to M. de Morcerf, and is -justified by his son Had I ten Yaninas in my family, I -should only consider myself the more bound to fight ten -times." As for Monte Cristo, his head was bent down, his -arms were powerless. Bowing under the weight of twentyfour -years' reminiscences, he thought not of Albert, of -Beauchamp, of ChateauRenaud, or of any of that group but -he thought of that courageous woman who had come to plead -for her son's life, to whom he had offered his, and who had -now saved it by the revelation of a dreadful family secret, -capable of destroying forever in that young man's heart -every feeling of filial piety. -"Providence still," murmured he "now only am I fully -convinced of being the emissary of God" -Chapter -Mother and Son. -The Count of Monte Cristo bowed to the five young men with a -melancholy and dignified smile, and got into his carriage -with Maximilian and Emmanuel. Albert, Beauchamp, and -ChateauRenaud remained alone. Albert looked at his two -friends, not timidly, but in a way that appeared to ask -their opinion of what he had just done. -"Indeed, my dear friend," said Beauchamp first, who had -either the most feeling or the least dissimulation, "allow -me to congratulate you this is a very unhopedfor -conclusion of a very disagreeable affair." -Albert remained silent and wrapped in thought. -ChateauRenaud contented himself with tapping his boot with -his flexible cane. "Are we not going?" said he, after this -embarrassing silence. "When you please," replied Beauchamp -"allow me only to compliment M. de Morcerf, who has given -proof today of rare chivalric generosity." -"Oh, yes," said ChateauRenaud. -"It is magnificent," continued Beauchamp, "to be able to -exercise so much selfcontrol" -"Assuredly as for me, I should have been incapable of it," -said ChateauRenaud, with most significant coolness. -"Gentlemen," interrupted Albert, "I think you did not -understand that something very serious had passed between M. -de Monte Cristo and myself." -"Possibly, possibly," said Beauchamp immediately "but every -simpleton would not be able to understand your heroism, and -sooner or later you will find yourself compelled to explain -it to them more energetically than would be convenient to -your bodily health and the duration of your life. May I give -you a friendly counsel? Set out for Naples, the Hague, or -St. Petersburg calm countries, where the point of honor -is better understood than among our hotheaded Parisians. -Seek quietude and oblivion, so that you may return peaceably -to France after a few years. Am I not right, M. de -ChateauRenaud?" -"That is quite my opinion," said the gentleman "nothing -induces serious duels so much as a duel forsworn." -"Thank you, gentlemen," replied Albert, with a smile of -indifference "I shall follow your advice not because you -give it, but because I had before intended to quit France. I -thank you equally for the service you have rendered me in -being my seconds. It is deeply engraved on my heart, and, -after what you have just said, I remember that only." -ChateauRenaud and Beauchamp looked at each other the -impression was the same on both of them, and the tone in -which Morcerf had just expressed his thanks was so -determined that the position would have become embarrassing -for all if the conversation had continued. -"Goodby, Albert," said Beauchamp suddenly, carelessly -extending his hand to the young man. The latter did not -appear to arouse from his lethargy in fact, he did not -notice the offered hand. "Goodby," said ChateauRenaud in -his turn, keeping his little cane in his left hand, and -saluting with his right. Albert's lips scarcely whispered -"Goodby," but his look was more explicit it expressed a -whole poem of restrained anger, proud disdain, and generous -indignation. He preserved his melancholy and motionless -position for some time after his two friends had regained -their carriage then suddenly unfastening his horse from the -little tree to which his servant had tied it, he mounted and -galloped off in the direction of Paris. -In a quarter of an hour he was entering the house in the Rue -du Helder. As he alighted, he thought he saw his father's -pale face behind the curtain of the count's bedroom. Albert -turned away his head with a sigh, and went to his own -apartments. He cast one lingering look on all the luxuries -which had rendered life so easy and so happy since his -infancy he looked at the pictures, whose faces seemed to -smile, and the landscapes, which appeared painted in -brighter colors. Then he took away his mother's portrait, -with its oaken frame, leaving the gilt frame from which he -took it black and empty. Then he arranged all his beautiful -Turkish arms, his fine English guns, his Japanese china, his -cups mounted in silver, his artistic bronzes by Feucheres -and Barye examined the cupboards, and placed the key in -each threw into a drawer of his secretary, which he left -open, all the pocketmoney he had about him, and with it the -thousand fancy jewels from his vases and his jewelboxes -then he made an exact inventory of everything, and placed it -in the most conspicuous part of the table, after putting -aside the books and papers which had collected there. -At the beginning of this work, his servant, notwithstanding -orders to the contrary, came to his room. "What do you -want?" asked he, with a more sorrowful than angry tone. -"Pardon me, sir," replied the valet "you had forbidden me -to disturb you, but the Count of Morcerf has called me." -"Well" said Albert. -"I did not like to go to him without first seeing you." -"Why?" -"Because the count is doubtless aware that I accompanied you -to the meeting this morning." -"It is probable," said Albert. -"And since he has sent for me, it is doubtless to question -me on what happened there. What must I answer?" -"The truth." -"Then I shall say the duel did not take place?" -"You will say I apologized to the Count of Monte Cristo. -Go." -The valet bowed and retired, and Albert returned to his -inventory. As he was finishing this work, the sound of -horses prancing in the yard, and the wheels of a carriage -shaking his window, attracted his attention. He approached -the window, and saw his father get into it, and drive away. -The door was scarcely closed when Albert bent his steps to -his mother's room and, no one being there to announce him, -he advanced to her bedchamber, and distressed by what he -saw and guessed, stopped for one moment at the door. As if -the same idea had animated these two beings, Mercedes was -doing the same in her apartments that he had just done in -his. Everything was in order, laces, dresses, jewels, -linen, money, all were arranged in the drawers, and the -countess was carefully collecting the keys. Albert saw all -these preparations and understood them, and exclaiming, "My -mother" he threw his arms around her neck. -The artist who could have depicted the expression of these -two countenances would certainly have made of them a -beautiful picture. All these proofs of an energetic -resolution, which Albert did not fear on his own account, -alarmed him for his mother. "What are you doing?" asked he. -"What were you doing?" replied she. -"Oh, my mother" exclaimed Albert, so overcome he could -scarcely speak "it is not the same with you and me you -cannot have made the same resolution I have, for I have come -to warn you that I bid adieu to your house, and and to -you." -"I also," replied Mercedes, "am going, and I acknowledge I -had depended on your accompanying me have I deceived -myself?" -"Mother," said Albert with firmness. "I cannot make you -share the fate I have planned for myself. I must live -henceforth without rank and fortune, and to begin this hard -apprenticeship I must borrow from a friend the loaf I shall -eat until I have earned one. So, my dear mother, I am going -at once to ask Franz to lend me the small sum I shall -require to supply my present wants." -"You, my poor child, suffer poverty and hunger? Oh, do not -say so it will break my resolutions." -"But not mine, mother," replied Albert. "I am young and -strong I believe I am courageous, and since yesterday I -have learned the power of will. Alas, my dear mother, some -have suffered so much, and yet live, and have raised a new -fortune on the ruin of all the promises of happiness which -heaven had made them on the fragments of all the hope -which God had given them I have seen that, mother I know -that from the gulf in which their enemies have plunged them -they have risen with so much vigor and glory that in their -turn they have ruled their former conquerors, and have -punished them. No. mother from this moment I have done with -the past, and accept nothing from it not even a name, -because you can understand that your son cannot bear the -name of a man who ought to blush for it before another." -"Albert, my child," said Mercedes, "if I had a stronger -heart that is the counsel I would have given you your -conscience has spoken when my voice became too weak listen -to its dictates. You had friends, Albert break off their -acquaintance. But do not despair you have life before you, -my dear Albert, for you are yet scarcely twentytwo years -old and as a pure heart like yours wants a spotless name, -take my father's it was Herrera. I am sure, my dear -Albert, whatever may be your career, you will soon render -that name illustrious. Then, my son, return to the world -still more brilliant because of your former sorrows and if -I am wrong, still let me cherish these hopes, for I have no -future to look forward to. For me the grave opens when I -pass the threshold of this house." -"I will fulfil all your wishes, my dear mother," said the -young man. "Yes, I share your hopes the anger of heaven -will not pursue us, since you are pure and I am innocent. -But, since our resolution is formed, let us act promptly. M. -de Morcerf went out about half an hour ago the opportunity -is favorable to avoid an explanation." -"I am ready, my son," said Mercedes. Albert ran to fetch a -carriage. He recollected that there was a small furnished -house to let in the Rue de Saints Peres, where his mother -would find a humble but decent lodging, and thither he -intended conducting the countess. As the carriage stopped at -the door, and Albert was alighting, a man approached and -gave him a letter. Albert recognized the bearer. "From the -count," said Bertuccio. Albert took the letter, opened, and -read it, then looked round for Bertuccio, but he was gone. -He returned to Mercedes with tears in his eyes and heaving -breast, and without uttering a word he gave her the letter. -Mercedes read -Albert, While showing you that I have discovered your -plans, I hope also to convince you of my delicacy. You are -free, you leave the count's house, and you take your mother -to your home but reflect, Albert, you owe her more than -your poor noble heart can pay her. Keep the struggle for -yourself, bear all the suffering, but spare her the trial of -poverty which must accompany your first efforts for she -deserves not even the shadow of the misfortune which has -this day fallen on her, and providence is not willing that -the innocent should suffer for the guilty. I know you are -going to leave the Rue du Helder without taking anything -with you. Do not seek to know how I discovered it I know it -that is sufficient. -Now, listen, Albert. Twentyfour years ago I returned, proud -and joyful, to my country. I had a betrothed, Albert, a -lovely girl whom I adored, and I was bringing to my -betrothed a hundred and fifty louis, painfully amassed by -ceaseless toil. This money was for her I destined it for -her, and, knowing the treachery of the sea I buried our -treasure in the little garden of the house my father lived -in at Marseilles, on the Allees de Meillan. Your mother, -Albert, knows that poor house well. A short time since I -passed through Marseilles, and went to see the old place, -which revived so many painful recollections and in the -evening I took a spade and dug in the corner of the garden -where I had concealed my treasure. The iron box was there -no one had touched it under a beautiful figtree my -father had planted the day I was born, which overshadowed -the spot. Well, Albert, this money, which was formerly -designed to promote the comfort and tranquillity of the -woman I adored, may now, through strange and painful -circumstances, be devoted to the same purpose. Oh, feel for -me, who could offer millions to that poor woman, but who -return her only the piece of black bread forgotten under my -poor roof since the day I was torn from her I loved. You are -a generous man, Albert, but perhaps you may be blinded by -pride or resentment if you refuse me, if you ask another -for what I have a right to offer you, I will say it is -ungenerous of you to refuse the life of your mother at the -hands of a man whose father was allowed by your father to -die in all the horrors of poverty and despair. -Albert stood pale and motionless to hear what his mother -would decide after she had finished reading this letter. -Mercedes turned her eyes with an ineffable look towards -heaven. "I accept it," said she "he has a right to pay the -dowry, which I shall take with me to some convent" Putting -the letter in her bosom, she took her son's arm, and with a -firmer step than she even herself expected she went -downstairs. -Chapter -The Suicide. -Meanwhile Monte Cristo had also returned to town with -Emmanuel and Maximilian. Their return was cheerful. Emmanuel -did not conceal his joy at the peaceful termination of the -affair, and was loud in his expressions of delight. Morrel, -in a corner of the carriage, allowed his brotherinlaw's -gayety to expend itself in words, while he felt equal inward -joy, which, however, betrayed itself only in his -countenance. At the Barriere du Trone they met Bertuccio, -who was waiting there, motionless as a sentinel at his post. -Monte Cristo put his head out of the window, exchanged a few -words with him in a low tone, and the steward disappeared. -"Count," said Emmanuel, when they were at the end of the -Place Royale, "put me down at my door, that my wife may not -have a single moment of needless anxiety on my account or -yours." -"If it were not ridiculous to make a display of our triumph, -I would invite the count to our house besides that, he -doubtless has some trembling heart to comfort. So we will -take leave of our friend, and let him hasten home." -"Stop a moment," said Monte Cristo "do not let me lose both -my companions. Return, Emmanuel, to your charming wife, and -present my best compliments to her and do you, Morrel, -accompany me to the Champs Elysees." -"Willingly," said Maximilian "particularly as I have -business in that quarter." -"Shall we wait breakfast for you?" asked Emmanuel. -"No," replied the young man. The door was closed, and the -carriage proceeded. "See what good fortune I brought you" -said Morrel, when he was alone with the count. "Have you not -thought so?" -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "for that reason I wished to keep -you near me." -"It is miraculous" continued Morrel, answering his own -thoughts. -"What?" said Monte Cristo. -"What has just happened." -"Yes," said the Count, "you are right it is miraculous." -"For Albert is brave," resumed Morrel. -"Very brave," said Monte Cristo "I have seen him sleep with -a sword suspended over his head." -"And I know he has fought two duels," said Morrel. "How can -you reconcile that with his conduct this morning?" -"All owing to your influence," replied Monte Cristo, -smiling. -"It is well for Albert he is not in the army," said Morrel. -"Why?" -"An apology on the ground" said the young captain, shaking -his head. -"Come," said the count mildly, "do not entertain the -prejudices of ordinary men, Morrel Acknowledge, that if -Albert is brave, he cannot be a coward he must then have -had some reason for acting as he did this morning, and -confess that his conduct is more heroic than otherwise." -"Doubtless, doubtless," said Morrel "but I shall say, like -the Spaniard, "He has not been so brave today as he was -yesterday.'" -"You will breakfast with me, will you not, Morrel?" said the -count, to turn the conversation. -"No I must leave you at ten o'clock." -"Your engagement was for breakfast, then?" said the count. -Morrel smiled, and shook his head. "Still you must breakfast -somewhere." -"But if I am not hungry?" said the young man. -"Oh," said the count, "I only know two things which destroy -the appetite, grief and as I am happy to see you very -cheerful, it is not that and love. Now after what you -told me this morning of your heart, I may believe" -"Well, count," replied Morrel gayly, "I will not dispute -it." -"But you will not make me your confidant, Maximilian?" said -the count, in a tone which showed how gladly he would have -been admitted to the secret. -"I showed you this morning that I had a heart, did I not, -count?" Monte Cristo only answered by extending his hand to -the young man. "Well," continued the latter, "since that -heart is no longer with you in the Bois de Vincennes, it is -elsewhere, and I must go and find it." -"Go," said the count deliberately "go, dear friend, but -promise me if you meet with any obstacle to remember that I -have some power in this world, that I am happy to use that -power in the behalf of those I love, and that I love you, -Morrel." -"I will remember it," said the young man, "as selfish -children recollect their parents when they want their aid. -When I need your assistance, and the moment arrives, I will -come to you, count." -"Well, I rely upon your promise. Goodby, then." -"Goodby, till we meet again." They had arrived in the -Champs Elysees. Monte Cristo opened the carriagedoor, -Morrel sprang out on the pavement, Bertuccio was waiting on -the steps. Morrel disappeared down the Avenue de Marigny, -and Monte Cristo hastened to join Bertuccio. -"Well?" asked he. -"She is going to leave her house," said the steward. -"And her son?" -"Florentin, his valet, thinks he is going to do the same." -"Come this way." Monte Cristo took Bertuccio into his study, -wrote the letter we have seen, and gave it to the steward. -"Go," said he quickly. "But first, let Haidee be informed -that I have returned." -"Here I am," said the young girl, who at the sound of the -carriage had run downstairs and whose face was radiant with -joy at seeing the count return safely. Bertuccio left. Every -transport of a daughter finding a father, all the delight of -a mistress seeing an adored lover, were felt by Haidee -during the first moments of this meeting, which she had so -eagerly expected. Doubtless, although less evident, Monte -Cristo's joy was not less intense. Joy to hearts which have -suffered long is like the dew on the ground after a long -drought both the heart and the ground absorb that -beneficent moisture falling on them, and nothing is -outwardly apparent. -Monte Cristo was beginning to think, what he had not for a -long time dared to believe, that there were two Mercedes in -the world, and he might yet be happy. His eye, elate with -happiness, was reading eagerly the tearful gaze of Haidee, -when suddenly the door opened. The count knit his brow. "M. -de Morcerf" said Baptistin, as if that name sufficed for -his excuse. In fact, the count's face brightened. -"Which," asked he, "the viscount or the count?" -"The count." -"Oh," exclaimed Haidee, "is it not yet over?" -"I know not if it is finished, my beloved child," said Monte -Cristo, taking the young girl's hands "but I do know you -have nothing more to fear." -"But it is the wretched" -"That man cannot injure me, Haidee," said Monte Cristo "it -was his son alone that there was cause to fear." -"And what I have suffered," said the young girl, "you shall -never know, my lord." Monte Cristo smiled. "By my father's -tomb," said he, extending his hand over the head of the -young girl, "I swear to you, Haidee, that if any misfortune -happens, it will not be to me." -"I believe you, my lord, as implicitly as if God had spoken -to me," said the young girl, presenting her forehead to him. -Monte Cristo pressed on that pure beautiful forehead a kiss -which made two hearts throb at once, the one violently, the -other heavily. "Oh," murmured the count, "shall I then be -permitted to love again? Ask M. de Morcerf into the -drawingroom," said he to Baptistin, while he led the -beautiful Greek girl to a private staircase. -We must explain this visit, which although expected by Monte -Cristo, is unexpected to our readers. While Mercedes, as we -have said, was making a similar inventory of her property to -Albert's, while she was arranging her jewels, shutting her -drawers, collecting her keys, to leave everything in perfect -order, she did not perceive a pale and sinister face at a -glass door which threw light into the passage, from which -everything could be both seen and heard. He who was thus -looking, without being heard or seen, probably heard and saw -all that passed in Madame de Morcerf's apartments. From that -glass door the palefaced man went to the count's bedroom -and raised with a constricted hand the curtain of a window -overlooking the courtyard. He remained there ten minutes, -motionless and dumb, listening to the beating of his own -heart. For him those ten minutes were very long. It was then -Albert, returning from his meeting with the count, perceived -his father watching for his arrival behind a curtain, and -turned aside. The count's eye expanded he knew Albert had -insulted the count dreadfully, and that in every country in -the world such an insult would lead to a deadly duel. Albert -returned safely then the count was revenged. -An indescribable ray of joy illumined that wretched -countenance like the last ray of the sun before it -disappears behind the clouds which bear the aspect, not of a -downy couch, but of a tomb. But as we have said, he waited -in vain for his son to come to his apartment with the -account of his triumph. He easily understood why his son did -not come to see him before he went to avenge his father's -honor but when that was done, why did not his son come and -throw himself into his arms? -It was then, when the count could not see Albert, that he -sent for his servant, who he knew was authorized not to -conceal anything from him. Ten minutes afterwards, General -Morcerf was seen on the steps in a black coat with a -military collar, black pantaloons, and black gloves. He had -apparently given previous orders, for as he reached the -bottom step his carriage came from the coachhouse ready for -him. The valet threw into the carriage his military cloak, -in which two swords were wrapped, and, shutting the door, he -took his seat by the side of the coachman. The coachman -stooped down for his orders. -"To the Champs Elysees," said the general "the Count of -Monte Cristo's. Hurry" The horses bounded beneath the whip -and in five minutes they stopped before the count's door. M. -de Morcerf opened the door himself, and as the carriage -rolled away he passed up the walk, rang, and entered the -open door with his servant. -A moment afterwards, Baptistin announced the Count of -Morcerf to Monte Cristo, and the latter, leading Haidee -aside, ordered that Morcerf be asked into the drawingroom. -The general was pacing the room the third time when, in -turning, he perceived Monte Cristo at the door. "Ah, it is -M. de Morcerf," said Monte Cristo quietly "I thought I had -not heard aright." -"Yes, it is I," said the count, whom a frightful contraction -of the lips prevented from articulating freely. -"May I know the cause which procures me the pleasure of -seeing M. de Morcerf so early?" -"Had you not a meeting with my son this morning?" asked the -general. -"I had," replied the count. -"And I know my son had good reasons to wish to fight with -you, and to endeavor to kill you." -"Yes, sir, he had very good ones but you see that in spite -of them he has not killed me, and did not even fight." -"Yet he considered you the cause of his father's dishonor, -the cause of the fearful ruin which has fallen on my house." -"It is true, sir," said Monte Cristo with his dreadful -calmness "a secondary cause, but not the principal." -"Doubtless you made, then, some apology or explanation?" -"I explained nothing, and it is he who apologized to me." -"But to what do you attribute this conduct?" -"To the conviction, probably, that there was one more guilty -than I." -"And who was that?" -"His father." -"That may be," said the count, turning pale "but you know -the guilty do not like to find themselves convicted." -"I know it, and I expected this result." -"You expected my son would be a coward?" cried the count. -"M. Albert de Morcerf is no coward" said Monte Cristo. -"A man who holds a sword in his hand, and sees a mortal -enemy within reach of that sword, and does not fight, is a -coward Why is he not here that I may tell him so?" -"Sir." replied Monte Cristo coldly, "I did not expect that -you had come here to relate to me your little family -affairs. Go and tell M. Albert that, and he may know what to -answer you." -"Oh, no, no," said the general, smiling faintly, "I did not -come for that purpose you are right. I came to tell you -that I also look upon you as my enemy. I came to tell you -that I hate you instinctively that it seems as if I had -always known you, and always hated you and, in short, since -the young people of the present day will not fight, it -remains for us to do so. Do you think so, sir?" -"Certainly. And when I told you I had foreseen the result, -it is the honor of your visit I alluded to." -"So much the better. Are you prepared?" -"Yes, sir." -"You know that we shall fight till one of us is dead," said -the general, whose teeth were clinched with rage. "Until one -of us dies," repeated Monte Cristo, moving his head slightly -up and down. -"Let us start, then we need no witnesses." -"Very true," said Monte Cristo "it is unnecessary, we know -each other so well" -"On the contrary," said the count, "we know so little of -each other." -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo, with the same indomitable -coolness "let us see. Are you not the soldier Fernand who -deserted on the eve of the battle of Waterloo? Are you not -the Lieutenant Fernand who served as guide and spy to the -French army in Spain? Are you not the Captain Fernand who -betrayed, sold, and murdered his benefactor, Ali? And have -not all these Fernands, united, made LieutenantGeneral, the -Count of Morcerf, peer of France?" -"Oh," cried the general, as it branded with a hot iron, -"wretch, to reproach me with my shame when about, -perhaps, to kill me No, I did not say I was a stranger to -you. I know well, demon, that you have penetrated into the -darkness of the past, and that you have read, by the light -of what torch I know not, every page of my life but perhaps -I may be more honorable in my shame than you under your -pompous coverings. No no, I am aware you know me but I -know you only as an adventurer sewn up in gold and -jewellery. You call yourself in Paris the Count of Monte -Cristo in Italy, Sinbad the Sailor in Malta, I forget -what. But it is your real name I want to know, in the midst -of your hundred names, that I may pronounce it when we meet -to fight, at the moment when I plunge my sword through your -heart." -The Count of Monte Cristo turned dreadfully pale his eye -seemed to burn with a devouring fire. He leaped towards a -dressingroom near his bedroom, and in less than a moment, -tearing off his cravat, his coat and waistcoat, he put on a -sailor's jacket and hat, from beneath which rolled his long -black hair. He returned thus, formidable and implacable, -advancing with his arms crossed on his breast, towards the -general, who could not understand why he had disappeared, -but who on seeing him again, and feeling his teeth chatter -and his legs sink under him, drew back, and only stopped -when he found a table to support his clinched hand. -"Fernand," cried he, "of my hundred names I need only tell -you one, to overwhelm you But you guess it now, do you not? -or, rather, you remember it? For, notwithstanding all my -sorrows and my tortures, I show you today a face which the -happiness of revenge makes young again a face you must -often have seen in your dreams since your marriage with -Mercedes, my betrothed" -The general, with his head thrown back, hands extended, gaze -fixed, looked silently at this dreadful apparition then -seeking the wall to support him, he glided along close to it -until he reached the door, through which he went out -backwards, uttering this single mournful, lamentable, -distressing cry, "Edmond Dantes" Then, with sighs which -were unlike any human sound, he dragged himself to the door, -reeled across the courtyard, and falling into the arms of -his valet, he said in a voice scarcely intelligible, -"Home, home." The fresh air and the shame he felt at having -exposed himself before his servants, partly recalled his -senses, but the ride was short, and as he drew near his -house all his wretchedness revived. He stopped at a short -distance from the house and alighted. -The door was wide open, a hackneycoach was standing in the -middle of the yard a strange sight before so noble a -mansion the count looked at it with terror, but without -daring to inquire its meaning, he rushed towards his -apartment. Two persons were coming down the stairs he had -only time to creep into an alcove to avoid them. It was -Mercedes leaning on her son's arm and leaving the house. -They passed close by the unhappy being, who, concealed -behind the damask curtain, almost felt Mercedes dress brush -past him, and his son's warm breath, pronouncing these -words, "Courage, mother Come, this is no longer our -home" The words died away, the steps were lost in the -distance. The general drew himself up, clinging to the -curtain he uttered the most dreadful sob which ever escaped -from the bosom of a father abandoned at the same time by his -wife and son. He soon heard the clatter of the iron step of -the hackneycoach, then the coachman's voice, and then the -rolling of the heavy vehicle shook the windows. He darted to -his bedroom to see once more all he had loved in the world -but the hackneycoach drove on and the head of neither -Mercedes nor her son appeared at the window to take a last -look at the house or the deserted father and husband. And at -the very moment when the wheels of that coach crossed the -gateway a report was heard, and a thick smoke escaped -through one of the panes of the window, which was broken by -the explosion. -Chapter -Valentine. -We may easily conceive where Morrel's appointment was. On -leaving Monte Cristo he walked slowly towards Villefort's -we say slowly, for Morrel had more than half an hour to -spare to go five hundred steps, but he had hastened to take -leave of Monte Cristo because he wished to be alone with his -thoughts. He knew his time well the hour when Valentine -was giving Noirtier his breakfast, and was sure not to be -disturbed in the performance of this pious duty. Noirtier -and Valentine had given him leave to go twice a week, and he -was now availing himself of that permission. He had arrived -Valentine was expecting him. Uneasy and almost crazed, she -seized his hand and led him to her grandfather. This -uneasiness, amounting almost to frenzy, arose from the -report Morcerf's adventure had made in the world, for the -affair at the opera was generally known. No one at -Villefort's doubted that a duel would ensue from it. -Valentine, with her woman's instinct, guessed that Morrel -would be Monte Cristo's second, and from the young man's -wellknown courage and his great affection for the count, -she feared that he would not content himself with the -passive part assigned to him. We may easily understand how -eagerly the particulars were asked for, given, and received -and Morrel could read an indescribable joy in the eyes of -his beloved, when she knew that the termination of this -affair was as happy as it was unexpected. -"Now," said Valentine, motioning to Morrel to sit down near -her grandfather, while she took her seat on his footstool, -"now let us talk about our own affairs. You know, -Maximilian, grandpapa once thought of leaving this house, -and taking an apartment away from M. de Villefort's." -"Yes," said Maximilian, "I recollect the project, of which I -highly approved." -"Well," said Valentine, "you may approve again, for -grandpapa is again thinking of it." -"Bravo," said Maximilian. -"And do you know," said Valentine, "what reason grandpapa -gives for leaving this house." Noirtier looked at Valentine -to impose silence, but she did not notice him her looks, -her eyes, her smile, were all for Morrel. -"Oh, whatever may be M. Noirtier's reason," answered Morrel, -"I can readily believe it to be a good one." -"An excellent one," said Valentine. "He pretends the air of -the Faubourg St. Honore is not good for me." -"Indeed?" said Morrel "in that M. Noirtier may be right -you have not seemed to be well for the last fortnight." -"Not very," said Valentine. "And grandpapa has become my -physician, and I have the greatest confidence in him, -because he knows everything." -"Do you then really suffer?" asked Morrel quickly. -"Oh, it must not be called suffering I feel a general -uneasiness, that is all. I have lost my appetite, and my -stomach feels as if it were struggling to get accustomed to -something." Noirtier did not lose a word of what Valentine -said. "And what treatment do you adopt for this singular -complaint?" -"A very simple one," said Valentine. "I swallow every -morning a spoonful of the mixture prepared for my -grandfather. When I say one spoonful, I began by one now -I take four. Grandpapa says it is a panacea." Valentine -smiled, but it was evident that she suffered. -Maximilian, in his devotedness, gazed silently at her. She -was very beautiful, but her usual pallor had increased her -eyes were more brilliant than ever, and her hands, which -were generally white like motherofpearl, now more -resembled wax, to which time was adding a yellowish hue. -From Valentine the young man looked towards Noirtier. The -latter watched with strange and deep interest the young -girl, absorbed by her affection, and he also, like Morrel, -followed those traces of inward suffering which was so -little perceptible to a common observer that they escaped -the notice of every one but the grandfather and the lover. -"But," said Morrel, "I thought this mixture, of which you -now take four spoonfuls, was prepared for M. Noirtier?" -"I know it is very bitter," said Valentine "so bitter, that -all I drink afterwards appears to have the same taste." -Noirtier looked inquiringly at his granddaughter. "Yes, -grandpapa," said Valentine "it is so. Just now, before I -came down to you, I drank a glass of sugared water I left -half, because it seemed so bitter." Noirtier turned pale, -and made a sign that he wished to speak. Valentine rose to -fetch the dictionary. Noirtier watched her with evident -anguish. In fact, the blood was rushing to the young girl's -head already, her cheeks were becoming red. "Oh," cried she, -without losing any of her cheerfulness, "this is singular I -can't see Did the sun shine in my eyes?" And she leaned -against the window. -"The sun is not shining," said Morrel, more alarmed by -Noirtier's expression than by Valentine's indisposition. He -ran towards her. The young girl smiled. "Cheer up," said she -to Noirtier. "Do not be alarmed, Maximilian it is nothing, -and has already passed away. But listen Do I not hear a -carriage in the courtyard?" She opened Noirtier's door, ran -to a window in the passage, and returned hastily. "Yes," -said she, "it is Madame Danglars and her daughter, who have -come to call on us. Goodby I must run away, for they -would send here for me, or, rather, farewell till I see you -again. Stay with grandpapa, Maximilian I promise you not to -persuade them to stay." -Morrel watched her as she left the room he heard her ascend -the little staircase which led both to Madame de Villefort's -apartments and to hers. As soon as she was gone, Noirtier -made a sign to Morrel to take the dictionary. Morrel obeyed -guided by Valentine, he had learned how to understand the -old man quickly. Accustomed, however, as he was to the work, -he had to repeat most of the letters of the alphabet and to -find every word in the dictionary, so that it was ten -minutes before the thought of the old man was translated by -these words, "Fetch the glass of water and the decanter from -Valentine's room." -Morrel rang immediately for the servant who had taken -Barrois's situation, and in Noirtier's name gave that order. -The servant soon returned. The decanter and the glass were -completely empty. Noirtier made a sign that he wished to -speak. "Why are the glass and decanter empty?" asked he -"Valentine said she only drank half the glassful." The -translation of this new question occupied another five -minutes. "I do not know," said the servant, "but the -housemaid is in Mademoiselle Valentine's room perhaps she -has emptied them." -"Ask her," said Morrel, translating Noirtier's thought this -time by his look. The servant went out, but returned almost -immediately. "Mademoiselle Valentine passed through the room -to go to Madame de Villefort's," said he "and in passing, -as she was thirsty, she drank what remained in the glass as -for the decanter, Master Edward had emptied that to make a -pond for his ducks." Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven, as -a gambler does who stakes his all on one stroke. From that -moment the old man's eyes were fixed on the door, and did -not quit it. -It was indeed Madame Danglars and her daughter whom -Valentine had seen they had been ushered into Madame de -Villefort's room, who had said she would receive them there. -That is why Valentine passed through her room, which was on -a level with Valentine's, and only separated from it by -Edward's. The two ladies entered the drawingroom with that -sort of official stiffness which preludes a formal -communication. Among worldly people manner is contagious. -Madame de Villefort received them with equal solemnity. -Valentine entered at this moment, and the formalities were -resumed. "My dear friend," said the baroness, while the two -young people were shaking hands, "I and Eugenie are come to -be the first to announce to you the approaching marriage of -my daughter with Prince Cavalcanti." Danglars kept up the -title of prince. The popular banker found that it answered -better than count. "Allow me to present you my sincere -congratulations," replied Madame de Villefort. "Prince -Cavalcanti appears to be a young man of rare qualities." -"Listen," said the baroness, smiling "speaking to you as a -friend I can say that the prince does not yet appear all he -will be. He has about him a little of that foreign manner by -which French persons recognize, at first sight, the Italian -or German nobleman. Besides, he gives evidence of great -kindness of disposition, much keenness of wit, and as to -suitability, M. Danglars assures me that his fortune is -majestic that is his word." -"And then," said Eugenie, while turning over the leaves of -Madame de Villefort's album, "add that you have taken a -great fancy to the young man." -"And," said Madame de Villefort, "I need not ask you if you -share that fancy." -"I?" replied Eugenie with her usual candor. "Oh, not the -least in the world, madame My wish was not to confine -myself to domestic cares, or the caprices of any man, but to -be an artist, and consequently free in heart, in person, and -in thought." Eugenie pronounced these words with so firm a -tone that the color mounted to Valentine's cheeks. The timid -girl could not understand that vigorous nature which -appeared to have none of the timidities of woman. -"At any rate," said she, "since I am to be married whether I -will or not, I ought to be thankful to providence for having -released me from my engagement with M. Albert de Morcerf, or -I should this day have been the wife of a dishonored man." -"It is true," said the baroness, with that strange -simplicity sometimes met with among fashionable ladies, and -of which plebeian intercourse can never entirely deprive -them, "it is very true that had not the Morcerfs -hesitated, my daughter would have married Monsieur Albert. -The general depended much on it he even came to force M. -Danglars. We have had a narrow escape." -"But," said Valentine, timidly, "does all the father's shame -revert upon the son? Monsieur Albert appears to me quite -innocent of the treason charged against the general." -"Excuse me," said the implacable young girl, "Monsieur -Albert claims and well deserves his share. It appears that -after having challenged M. de Monte Cristo at the Opera -yesterday, he apologized on the ground today." -"Impossible," said Madame de Villefort. -"Ah, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, with the same -simplicity we before noticed, "it is a fact. I heard it from -M. Debray, who was present at the explanation." Valentine -also knew the truth, but she did not answer. A single word -had reminded her that Morrel was expecting her in M. -Noirtier's room. Deeply engaged with a sort of inward -contemplation, Valentine had ceased for a moment to join in -the conversation. She would, indeed, have found it -impossible to repeat what had been said the last few -minutes, when suddenly Madame Danglars' hand, pressed on her -arm, aroused her from her lethargy. -"What is it?" said she, starting at Madame Danglars' touch -as she would have done from an electric shock. "It is, my -dear Valentine," said the baroness, "that you are, -doubtless, suffering." -"I?" said the young girl, passing her hand across her -burning forehead. -"Yes, look at yourself in that glass you have turned pale -and then red successively, three or four times in one -minute." -"Indeed," cried Eugenie, "you are very pale" -"Oh, do not be alarmed I have been so for many days." -Artless as she was, the young girl knew that this was an -opportunity to leave, and besides, Madame de Villefort came -to her assistance. "Retire, Valentine," said she "you are -really suffering, and these ladies will excuse you drink a -glass of pure water, it will restore you." Valentine kissed -Eugenie, bowed to Madame Danglars, who had already risen to -take her leave, and went out. "That poor child," said Madame -de Villefort when Valentine was gone, "she makes me very -uneasy, and I should not be astonished if she had some -serious illness." -Meanwhile, Valentine, in a sort of excitement which she -could not quite understand, had crossed Edward's room -without noticing some trick of the child, and through her -own had reached the little staircase. She was within three -steps of the bottom she already heard Morrel's voice, when -suddenly a cloud passed over her eyes, her stiffened foot -missed the step, her hands had no power to hold the -baluster, and falling against the wall she lost her balance -wholly and toppled to the floor. Morrel bounded to the door, -opened it, and found Valentine stretched out at the bottom -of the stairs. Quick as a flash, he raised her in his arms -and placed her in a chair. Valentine opened her eyes. -"Oh, what a clumsy thing I am," said she with feverish -volubility "I don't know my way. I forgot there were three -more steps before the landing." -"You have hurt yourself, perhaps," said Morrel. "What can I -do for you, Valentine?" Valentine looked around her she saw -the deepest terror depicted in Noirtier's eyes. "Don't -worry, dear grandpapa," said she, endeavoring to smile "it -is nothing it is nothing I was giddy, that is all." -"Another attack of giddiness," said Morrel, clasping his -hands. "Oh, attend to it, Valentine, I entreat you." -"But no," said Valentine, "no, I tell you it is all past, -and it was nothing. Now, let me tell you some news Eugenie -is to be married in a week, and in three days there is to be -a grand feast, a betrothal festival. We are all invited, my -father, Madame de Villefort, and I at least, I understood -it so." -"When will it be our turn to think of these things? Oh, -Valentine, you who have so much influence over your -grandpapa, try to make him answer Soon." -"And do you," said Valentine, "depend on me to stimulate the -tardiness and arouse the memory of grandpapa?" -"Yes," cried Morrel, "make haste. So long as you are not -mine, Valentine, I shall always think I may lose you." -"Oh," replied Valentine with a convulsive movement, "oh, -indeed, Maximilian, you are too timid for an officer, for a -soldier who, they say, never knows fear. Ah, ha, ha" she -burst into a forced and melancholy laugh, her arms stiffened -and twisted, her head fell back on her chair, and she -remained motionless. The cry of terror which was stopped on -Noirtier's lips, seemed to start from his eyes. Morrel -understood it he knew he must call assistance. The young -man rang the bell violently the housemaid who had been in -Mademoiselle Valentine's room, and the servant who had -replaced Barrois, ran in at the same moment. Valentine was -so pale, so cold, so inanimate that without listening to -what was said to them they were seized with the fear which -pervaded that house, and they flew into the passage crying -for help. Madame Danglars and Eugenie were going out at that -moment they heard the cause of the disturbance. "I told you -so" exclaimed Madame de Villefort. "Poor child" -Chapter -Maximilian's Avowal. -At the same moment M. de Villefort's voice was heard calling -from his study, "What is the matter?" Morrel looked at -Noirtier who had recovered his selfcommand, and with a -glance indicated the closet where once before under somewhat -similar circumstances, he had taken refuge. He had only time -to get his hat and throw himself breathless into the closet -when the procureur's footstep was heard in the passage. -Villefort sprang into the room, ran to Valentine, and took -her in his arms. "A physician, a physician, M. -d'Avrigny" cried Villefort "or rather I will go for him -myself." He flew from the apartment, and Morrel at the same -moment darted out at the other door. He had been struck to -the heart by a frightful recollection the conversation he -had heard between the doctor and Villefort the night of -Madame de SaintMeran's death, recurred to him these -symptoms, to a less alarming extent, were the same which had -preceded the death of Barrois. At the same time Monte -Cristo's voice seemed to resound in his ear with the words -he had heard only two hours before, "Whatever you want, -Morrel, come to me I have great power." More rapidly than -thought, he darted down the Rue Matignon, and thence to the -Avenue des Champs Elysees. -Meanwhile M. de Villefort arrived in a hired cabriolet at M. -d'Avrigny's door. He rang so violently that the porter was -alarmed. Villefort ran upstairs without saying a word. The -porter knew him, and let him pass, only calling to him, "In -his study, Monsieur Procureur in his study" Villefort -pushed, or rather forced, the door open. "Ah," said the -doctor, "is it you?" -"Yes," said Villefort, closing the door after him, "it is I, -who am come in my turn to ask you if we are quite alone. -Doctor, my house is accursed" -"What?" said the latter with apparent coolness, but with -deep emotion, "have you another invalid?" -"Yes, doctor," cried Villefort, clutching his hair, "yes" -D'Avrigny's look implied, "I told you it would be so." Then -he slowly uttered these words, "Who is now dying in your -house? What new victim is going to accuse you of weakness -before God?" A mournful sob burst from Villefort's heart he -approached the doctor, and seizing his arm, "Valentine," -said he, "it is Valentine's turn" -"Your daughter?" cried d'Avrigny with grief and surprise. -"You see you were deceived," murmured the magistrate "come -and see her, and on her bed of agony entreat her pardon for -having suspected her." -"Each time you have applied to me," said the doctor, "it has -been too late still I will go. But let us make haste, sir -with the enemies you have to do with there is no time to be -lost." -"Oh, this time, doctor, you shall not have to reproach me -with weakness. This time I will know the assassin, and will -pursue him." -"Let us try first to save the victim before we think of -revenging her," said d'Avrigny. "Come." The same cabriolet -which had brought Villefort took them back at full speed, -and at this moment Morrel rapped at Monte Cristo's door. The -count was in his study and was reading with an angry look -something which Bertuccio had brought in haste. Hearing the -name of Morrel, who had left him only two hours before, the -count raised his head, arose, and sprang to meet him. "What -is the matter, Maximilian?" asked he "you are pale, and the -perspiration rolls from your forehead." Morrel fell into a -chair. "Yes," said he, "I came quickly I wanted to speak to -you." -"Are all your family well?" asked the count, with an -affectionate benevolence, whose sincerity no one could for a -moment doubt. -"Thank you, count thank you," said the young man, -evidently embarrassed how to begin the conversation "yes, -every one in my family is well." -"So much the better yet you have something to tell me?" -replied the count with increased anxiety. -"Yes," said Morrel, "it is true I have but now left a house -where death has just entered, to run to you." -"Are you then come from M. de Morcerf's?" asked Monte -Cristo. -"No," said Morrel "is some one dead in his house?" -"The general has just blown his brains out," replied Monte -Cristo with great coolness. -"Oh, what a dreadful event" cried Maximilian. -"Not for the countess, or for Albert," said Monte Cristo "a -dead father or husband is better than a dishonored one, -blood washes out shame." -"Poor countess," said Maximilian, "I pity her very much she -is so noble a woman" -"Pity Albert also, Maximilian for believe me he is the -worthy son of the countess. But let us return to yourself. -You have hastened to me can I have the happiness of being -useful to you?" -"Yes, I need your help that is I thought like a madman that -you could lend me your assistance in a case where God alone -can succor me." -"Tell me what it is," replied Monte Cristo. -"Oh," said Morrel, "I know not, indeed, if I may reveal this -secret to mortal ears, but fatality impels me, necessity -constrains me, count" Morrel hesitated. "Do you think I -love you?" said Monte Cristo, taking the young man's hand -affectionately in his. -"Oh, you encourage me, and something tells me there," -placing his hand on his heart, "that I ought to have no -secret from you." -"You are right, Morrel God is speaking to your heart, and -your heart speaks to you. Tell me what it says." -"Count, will you allow me to send Baptistin to inquire after -some one you know?" -"I am at your service, and still more my servants." -"Oh, I cannot live if she is not better." -"Shall I ring for Baptistin?" -"No, I will go and speak to him myself." Morrel went out, -called Baptistin, and whispered a few words to him. The -valet ran directly. "Well, have you sent?" asked Monte -Cristo, seeing Morrel return. -"Yes, and now I shall be more calm." -"You know I am waiting," said Monte Cristo, smiling. -"Yes, and I will tell you. One evening I was in a garden a -clump of trees concealed me no one suspected I was there. -Two persons passed near me allow me to conceal their -names for the present they were speaking in an undertone, -and yet I was so interested in what they said that I did not -lose a single word." -"This is a gloomy introduction, if I may judge from your -pallor and shuddering, Morrel." -"Oh, yes, very gloomy, my friend. Some one had just died in -the house to which that garden belonged. One of the persons -whose conversation I overheard was the master of the house -the other, the physician. The former was confiding to the -latter his grief and fear, for it was the second time within -a month that death had suddenly and unexpectedly entered -that house which was apparently destined to destruction by -some exterminating angel, as an object of God's anger." -"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo, looking earnestly at the -young man, and by an imperceptible movement turning his -chair, so that he remained in the shade while the light fell -full on Maximilian's face. "Yes," continued Morrel, "death -had entered that house twice within one month." -"And what did the doctor answer?" asked Monte Cristo. -"He replied he replied, that the death was not a natural -one, and must be attributed" -"To what?" -"To poison." -"Indeed?" said Monte Cristo with a slight cough which in -moments of extreme emotion helped him to disguise a blush, -or his pallor, or the intense interest with which he -listened "indeed, Maximilian, did you hear that?" -"Yes, my dear count, I heard it and the doctor added that -if another death occurred in a similar way he must appeal to -justice." Monte Cristo listened, or appeared to do so, with -the greatest calmness. "Well," said Maximilian, "death came -a third time, and neither the master of the house nor the -doctor said a word. Death is now, perhaps, striking a fourth -blow. Count, what am I bound to do, being in possession of -this secret?" -"My dear friend," said Monte Cristo, "you appear to be -relating an adventure which we all know by heart. I know the -house where you heard it, or one very similar to it a house -with a garden, a master, a physician, and where there have -been three unexpected and sudden deaths. Well, I have not -intercepted your confidence, and yet I know all that as well -as you, and I have no conscientious scruples. No, it does -not concern me. You say an exterminating angel appears to -have devoted that house to God's anger well, who says -your supposition is not reality? Do not notice things which -those whose interest it is to see them pass over. If it is -God's justice, instead of his anger, which is walking -through that house, Maximilian, turn away your face and let -his justice accomplish its purpose." Morrel shuddered. There -was something mournful, solemn, and terrible in the count's -manner. "Besides," continued he, in so changed a tone that -no one would have supposed it was the same person speaking -"besides, who says that it will begin again?" -"It has returned, count," exclaimed Morrel "that is why I -hastened to you." -"Well, what do you wish me to do? Do you wish me, for -instance, to give information to the procureur?" Monte -Cristo uttered the last words with so much meaning that -Morrel, starting up, cried out, "You know of whom I speak, -count, do you not?" -"Perfectly well, my good friend and I will prove it to you -by putting the dots to the "i,' or rather by naming the -persons. You were walking one evening in M. de Villefort's -garden from what you relate, I suppose it to have been the -evening of Madame de SaintMeran's death. You heard M. de -Villefort talking to M. d'Avrigny about the death of M. de -SaintMeran, and that no less surprising, of the countess. -M. d'Avrigny said he believed they both proceeded from -poison and you, honest man, have ever since been asking -your heart and sounding your conscience to know if you ought -to expose or conceal this secret. Why do you torment them? -"Conscience, what hast thou to do with me?' as Sterne said. -My dear fellow, let them sleep on, if they are asleep let -them grow pale in their drowsiness, if they are disposed to -do so, and pray do you remain in peace, who have no remorse -to disturb you." Deep grief was depicted on Morrel's -features he seized Monte Cristo's hand. "But it is -beginning again, I say" -"Well," said the Count, astonished at his perseverance, -which he could not understand, and looking still more -earnestly at Maximilian, "let it begin again, it is like -the house of the Atreidae God has condemned them, and they -must submit to their punishment. They will all disappear, -like the fabrics children build with cards, and which fall, -one by one, under the breath of their builder, even if there -are two hundred of them. Three months since it was M. de -SaintMeran Madame de SaintMeran two months since the -other day it was Barrois today, the old Noirtier, or young -Valentine." - In the old Greek legend the Atreidae, or children of -Atreus, were doomed to punishment because of the abominable -crime of their father. The Agamemnon of Aeschylus is based -on this legend. -"You knew it?" cried Morrel, in such a paroxysm of terror -that Monte Cristo started, he whom the falling heavens -would have found unmoved "you knew it, and said nothing?" -"And what is it to me?" replied Monte Cristo, shrugging his -shoulders "do I know those people? and must I lose the one -to save the other? Faith, no, for between the culprit and -the victim I have no choice." -"But I," cried Morrel, groaning with sorrow, "I love her" -"You love? whom?" cried Monte Cristo, starting to his -feet, and seizing the two hands which Morrel was raising -towards heaven. -"I love most fondly I love madly I love as a man who -would give his lifeblood to spare her a tear I love -Valentine de Villefort, who is being murdered at this -moment Do you understand me? I love her and I ask God and -you how I can save her?" Monte Cristo uttered a cry which -those only can conceive who have heard the roar of a wounded -lion. "Unhappy man," cried he, wringing his hands in his -turn "you love Valentine, that daughter of an accursed -race" Never had Morrel witnessed such an expression -never had so terrible an eye flashed before his face -never had the genius of terror he had so often seen, either -on the battlefield or in the murderous nights of Algeria, -shaken around him more dreadful fire. He drew back -terrified. -As for Monte Cristo, after this ebullition he closed his -eyes as if dazzled by internal light. In a moment he -restrained himself so powerfully that the tempestuous -heaving of his breast subsided, as turbulent and foaming -waves yield to the sun's genial influence when the cloud has -passed. This silence, selfcontrol, and struggle lasted -about twenty seconds, then the count raised his pallid face. -"See," said he, "my dear friend, how God punishes the most -thoughtless and unfeeling men for their indifference, by -presenting dreadful scenes to their view. I, who was looking -on, an eager and curious spectator, I, who was watching -the working of this mournful tragedy, I, who like a -wicked angel was laughing at the evil men committed -protected by secrecy a secret is easily kept by the rich -and powerful, I am in my turn bitten by the serpent whose -tortuous course I was watching, and bitten to the heart" -Morrel groaned. "Come, come," continued the count, -"complaints are unavailing, be a man, be strong, be full of -hope, for I am here and will watch over you." Morrel shook -his head sorrowfully. "I tell you to hope. Do you understand -me?" cried Monte Cristo. "Remember that I never uttered a -falsehood and am never deceived. It is twelve o'clock, -Maximilian thank heaven that you came at noon rather than -in the evening, or tomorrow morning. Listen, Morrel it -is noon if Valentine is not now dead, she will not die." -"How so?" cried Morrel, "when I left her dying?" Monte -Cristo pressed his hands to his forehead. What was passing -in that brain, so loaded with dreadful secrets? What does -the angel of light or the angel of darkness say to that -mind, at once implacable and generous? God only knows. -Monte Cristo raised his head once more, and this time he was -calm as a child awaking from its sleep. "Maximilian," said -he, "return home. I command you not to stir attempt -nothing, not to let your countenance betray a thought, and I -will send you tidings. Go." -"Oh, count, you overwhelm me with that coolness. Have you, -then, power against death? Are you superhuman? Are you an -angel?" And the young man, who had never shrunk from danger, -shrank before Monte Cristo with indescribable terror. But -Monte Cristo looked at him with so melancholy and sweet a -smile, that Maximilian felt the tears filling his eyes. "I -can do much for you, my friend," replied the count. "Go I -must be alone." Morrel, subdued by the extraordinary -ascendancy Monte Cristo exercised over everything around -him, did not endeavor to resist it. He pressed the count's -hand and left. He stopped one moment at the door for -Baptistin, whom he saw in the Rue Matignon, and who was -running. -Meanwhile, Villefort and d'Avrigny had made all possible -haste, Valentine had not revived from her fainting fit on -their arrival, and the doctor examined the invalid with all -the care the circumstances demanded, and with an interest -which the knowledge of the secret intensified twofold. -Villefort, closely watching his countenance and his lips, -awaited the result of the examination. Noirtier, paler than -even the young girl, more eager than Villefort for the -decision, was watching also intently and affectionately. At -last d'Avrigny slowly uttered these words "she is still -alive" -"Still?" cried Villefort "oh, doctor, what a dreadful word -is that." -"Yes," said the physician, "I repeat it she is still alive, -and I am astonished at it." -"But is she safe?" asked the father. -"Yes, since she lives." At that moment d'Avrigny's glance -met Noirtier's eye. It glistened with such extraordinary -joy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician was -struck. He placed the young girl again on the chair, her -lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white, -as well as her whole face, and remained motionless, -looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend -all he did. "Sir," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "call -Mademoiselle Valentine's maid, if you please." Villefort -went himself to find her and d'Avrigny approached Noirtier. -"Have you something to tell me?" asked he. The old man -winked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his -only way of expressing his approval. -"Privately?" -"Yes." -"Well, I will remain with you." At this moment Villefort -returned, followed by the lady's maid and after her came -Madame de Villefort. -"What is the matter, then, with this dear child? she has -just left me, and she complained of being indisposed, but I -did not think seriously of it." The young woman with tears -in her eyes and every mark of affection of a true mother, -approached Valentine and took her hand. D'Avrigny continued -to look at Noirtier he saw the eyes of the old man dilate -and become round, his cheeks turn pale and tremble the -perspiration stood in drops upon his forehead. "Ah," said -he, involuntarily following Noirtier's eyes, which were -fixed on Madame de Villefort, who repeated, "This poor -child would be better in bed. Come, Fanny, we will put her -to bed." M. d'Avrigny, who saw that would be a means of his -remaining alone with Noirtier, expressed his opinion that it -was the best thing that could be done but he forbade that -anything should be given to her except what he ordered. -They carried Valentine away she had revived, but could -scarcely move or speak, so shaken was her frame by the -attack. She had, however, just power to give one parting -look to her grandfather, who in losing her seemed to be -resigning his very soul. D'Avrigny followed the invalid, -wrote a prescription, ordered Villefort to take a cabriolet, -go in person to a chemist's to get the prescribed medicine, -bring it himself, and wait for him in his daughter's room. -Then, having renewed his injunction not to give Valentine -anything, he went down again to Noirtier, shut the doors -carefully, and after convincing himself that no one was -listening, "Do you," said he, "know anything of this -young lady's illness?" -"Yes," said the old man. -"We have no time to lose I will question, and do you answer -me." Noirtier made a sign that he was ready to answer. "Did -you anticipate the accident which has happened to your -granddaughter?" -"Yes." D'Avrigny reflected a moment then approaching -Noirtier, "Pardon what I am going to say," added he, "but -no indication should be neglected in this terrible -situation. Did you see poor Barrois die?" Noirtier raised -his eyes to heaven. "Do you know of what he died" asked -d'Avrigny, placing his hand on Noirtier's shoulder. -"Yes," replied the old man. -"Do you think he died a natural death?" A sort of smile was -discernible on the motionless lips of Noirtier. -"Then you have thought that Barrois was poisoned?" -"Yes." -"Do you think the poison he fell a victim to was intended -for him?" -"No." -"Do you think the same hand which unintentionally struck -Barrois has now attacked Valentine?" -"Yes." -"Then will she die too?" asked d'Avrigny, fixing his -penetrating gaze on Noirtier. He watched the effect of this -question on the old man. "No," replied he with an air of -triumph which would have puzzled the most clever diviner. -"Then you hope?" said d'Avrigny, with surprise. -"Yes." -"What do you hope?" The old man made him understand with his -eyes that he could not answer. "Ah, yes, it is true," -murmured d'Avrigny. Then, turning to Noirtier, "Do you -hope the assassin will be tried?" -"No." -"Then you hope the poison will take no effect on Valentine?" -"Yes." -"It is no news to you," added d'Avrigny, "to tell you that -an attempt has been made to poison her?" The old man made a -sign that he entertained no doubt upon the subject. "Then -how do you hope Valentine will escape?" Noirtier kept his -eyes steadfastly fixed on the same spot. D'Avrigny followed -the direction and saw that they were fixed on a bottle -containing the mixture which he took every morning. "Ah, -indeed?" said d'Avrigny, struck with a sudden thought, "has -it occurred to you" Noirtier did not let him finish. -"Yes," said he. "To prepare her system to resist poison?" -"Yes." -"By accustoming her by degrees" -"Yes, yes, yes," said Noirtier, delighted to be understood. -"Of course. I had told you that there was brucine in the -mixture I give you." -"Yes." -"And by accustoming her to that poison, you have endeavored -to neutralize the effect of a similar poison?" Noirtier's -joy continued. "And you have succeeded," exclaimed -d'Avrigny. "Without that precaution Valentine would have -died before assistance could have been procured. The dose -has been excessive, but she has only been shaken by it and -this time, at any rate, Valentine will not die." A -superhuman joy expanded the old man's eyes, which were -raised towards heaven with an expression of infinite -gratitude. At this moment Villefort returned. "Here, -doctor," said he, "is what you sent me for." -"Was this prepared in your presence?" -"Yes," replied the procureur. -"Have you not let it go out of your hands?" -"No." D'Avrigny took the bottle, poured some drops of the -mixture it contained in the hollow of his hand, and -swallowed them. "Well," said he, "let us go to Valentine I -will give instructions to every one, and you, M. de -Villefort, will yourself see that no one deviates from -them." -At the moment when d'Avrigny was returning to Valentine's -room, accompanied by Villefort, an Italian priest, of -serious demeanor and calm and firm tone, hired for his use -the house adjoining the hotel of M. de Villefort. No one -knew how the three former tenants of that house left it. -About two hours afterwards its foundation was reported to be -unsafe but the report did not prevent the new occupant -establishing himself there with his modest furniture the -same day at five o'clock. The lease was drawn up for three, -six, or nine years by the new tenant, who, according to the -rule of the proprietor, paid six months in advance. This new -tenant, who, as we have said, was an Italian, was called Il -Signor Giacomo Busoni. Workmen were immediately called in, -and that same night the passengers at the end of the -faubourg saw with surprise that carpenters and masons were -occupied in repairing the lower part of the tottering house. -Chapter -Father and Daughter. -We saw in a preceding chapter how Madame Danglars went -formally to announce to Madame de Villefort the approaching -marriage of Eugenie Danglars and M. Andrea Cavalcanti. This -announcement, which implied or appeared to imply, the -approval of all the persons concerned in this momentous -affair, had been preceded by a scene to which our readers -must be admitted. We beg them to take one step backward, and -to transport themselves, the morning of that day of great -catastrophes, into the showy, gilded salon we have before -shown them, and which was the pride of its owner, Baron -Danglars. In this room, at about ten o'clock in the morning, -the banker himself had been walking to and fro for some -minutes thoughtfully and in evident uneasiness, watching -both doors, and listening to every sound. When his patience -was exhausted, he called his valet. "Etienne," said he, "see -why Mademoiselle Eugenie has asked me to meet her in the -drawingroom, and why she makes me wait so long." -Having given this vent to his illhumor, the baron became -more calm Mademoiselle Danglars had that morning requested -an interview with her father, and had fixed on the gilded -drawingroom as the spot. The singularity of this step, and -above all its formality, had not a little surprised the -banker, who had immediately obeyed his daughter by repairing -first to the drawingroom. Etienne soon returned from his -errand. "Mademoiselle's lady's maid says, sir, that -mademoiselle is finishing her toilette, and will be here -shortly." -Danglars nodded, to signify that he was satisfied. To the -world and to his servants Danglars assumed the character of -the goodnatured man and the indulgent father. This was one -of his parts in the popular comedy he was performing, a -makeup he had adopted and which suited him about as well as -the masks worn on the classic stage by paternal actors, who -seen from one side, were the image of geniality, and from -the other showed lips drawn down in chronic illtemper. Let -us hasten to say that in private the genial side descended -to the level of the other, so that generally the indulgent -man disappeared to give place to the brutal husband and -domineering father. "Why the devil does that foolish girl, -who pretends to wish to speak to me, not come into my study? -and why on earth does she want to speak to me at all?" -He was turning this thought over in his brain for the -twentieth time, when the door opened and Eugenie appeared, -attired in a figured black satin dress, her hair dressed and -gloves on, as if she were going to the Italian Opera. "Well, -Eugenie, what is it you want with me? and why in this solemn -drawingroom when the study is so comfortable?" -"I quite understand why you ask, sir," said Eugenie, making -a sign that her father might be seated, "and in fact your -two questions suggest fully the theme of our conversation. I -will answer them both, and contrary to the usual method, the -last first, because it is the least difficult. I have chosen -the drawingroom, sir, as our place of meeting, in order to -avoid the disagreeable impressions and influences of a -banker's study. Those gilded cashbooks, drawers locked like -gates of fortresses, heaps of bankbills, come from I know -not where, and the quantities of letters from England, -Holland, Spain, India, China, and Peru, have generally a -strange influence on a father's mind, and make him forget -that there is in the world an interest greater and more -sacred than the good opinion of his correspondents. I have, -therefore, chosen this drawingroom, where you see, smiling -and happy in their magnificent frames, your portrait, mine, -my mother's, and all sorts of rural landscapes and touching -pastorals. I rely much on external impressions perhaps, -with regard to you, they are immaterial, but I should be no -artist if I had not some fancies." -"Very well," replied M. Danglars, who had listened to all -this preamble with imperturbable coolness, but without -understanding a word, since like every man burdened with -thoughts of the past, he was occupied with seeking the -thread of his own ideas in those of the speaker. -"There is, then, the second point cleared up, or nearly so," -said Eugenie, without the least confusion, and with that -masculine pointedness which distinguished her gesture and -her language "and you appear satisfied with the -explanation. Now, let us return to the first. You ask me why -I have requested this interview I will tell you in two -words, sir I will not marry count Andrea Cavalcanti." -Danglars leaped from his chair and raised his eyes and arms -towards heaven. -"Yes, indeed, sir," continued Eugenie, still quite calm -"you are astonished, I see for since this little affair -began, I have not manifested the slightest opposition, and -yet I am always sure, when the opportunity arrives, to -oppose a determined and absolute will to people who have not -consulted me, and things which displease me. However, this -time, my tranquillity, or passiveness as philosophers say, -proceeded from another source it proceeded from a wish, -like a submissive and devoted daughter" a slight smile was -observable on the purple lips of the young girl, "to -practice obedience." -"Well?" asked Danglars. -"Well, sir," replied Eugenie, "I have tried to the very last -and now that the moment has come, I feel in spite of all my -efforts that it is impossible." -"But," said Danglars, whose weak mind was at first quite -overwhelmed with the weight of this pitiless logic, marking -evident premeditation and force of will, "what is your -reason for this refusal, Eugenie? what reason do you -assign?" -"My reason?" replied the young girl. "Well, it is not that -the man is more ugly, more foolish, or more disagreeable -than any other no, M. Andrea Cavalcanti may appear to those -who look at men's faces and figures as a very good specimen -of his kind. It is not, either, that my heart is less -touched by him than any other that would be a schoolgirl's -reason, which I consider quite beneath me. I actually love -no one, sir you know it, do you not? I do not then see why, -without real necessity, I should encumber my life with a -perpetual companion. Has not some sage said, "Nothing too -much'? and another, "I carry all my effects with me'? I have -been taught these two aphorisms in Latin and in Greek one -is, I believe, from Phaedrus, and the other from Bias. Well, -my dear father, in the shipwreck of life for life is an -eternal shipwreck of our hopes I cast into the sea my -useless encumbrance, that is all, and I remain with my own -will, disposed to live perfectly alone, and consequently -perfectly free." -"Unhappy girl, unhappy girl" murmured Danglars, turning -pale, for he knew from long experience the solidity of the -obstacle he had so suddenly encountered. -"Unhappy girl," replied Eugenie, "unhappy girl, do you say, -sir? No, indeed the exclamation appears quite theatrical -and affected. Happy, on the contrary, for what am I in want -of The world calls me beautiful. It is something to be well -received. I like a favorable reception it expands the -countenance, and those around me do not then appear so ugly. -I possess a share of wit, and a certain relative -sensibility, which enables me to draw from life in general, -for the support of mine, all I meet with that is good, like -the monkey who cracks the nut to get at its contents. I am -rich, for you have one of the first fortunes in France. I am -your only daughter, and you are not so exacting as the -fathers of the Porte SaintMartin and Gaiete, who disinherit -their daughters for not giving them grandchildren. Besides, -the provident law has deprived you of the power to -disinherit me, at least entirely, as it has also of the -power to compel me to marry Monsieur This or Monsieur That. -And so being, beautiful, witty, somewhat talented, as the -comic operas say, and rich and that is happiness, sir -why do you call me unhappy?" -Danglars, seeing his daughter smiling, and proud even to -insolence, could not entirely repress his brutal feelings, -but they betrayed themselves only by an exclamation. Under -the fixed and inquiring gaze levelled at him from under -those beautiful black eyebrows, he prudently turned away, -and calmed himself immediately, daunted by the power of a -resolute mind. "Truly, my daughter," replied he with a -smile, "you are all you boast of being, excepting one thing -I will not too hastily tell you which, but would rather -leave you to guess it." Eugenie looked at Danglars, much -surprised that one flower of her crown of pride, with which -she had so superbly decked herself, should be disputed. "My -daughter," continued the banker, "you have perfectly -explained to me the sentiments which influence a girl like -you, who is determined she will not marry now it remains -for me to tell you the motives of a father like me, who has -decided that his daughter shall marry." Eugenie bowed, not -as a submissive daughter, but as an adversary prepared for a -discussion. -"My daughter," continued Danglars, "when a father asks his -daughter to choose a husband, he has always some reason for -wishing her to marry. Some are affected with the mania of -which you spoke just now, that of living again in their -grandchildren. This is not my weakness, I tell you at once -family joys have no charm for me. I may acknowledge this to -a daughter whom I know to be philosophical enough to -understand my indifference, and not to impute it to me as a -crime." -"This is not to the purpose," said Eugenie "let us speak -candidly, sir I admire candor." -"Oh," said Danglars, "I can, when circumstances render it -desirable, adopt your system, although it may not be my -general practice. I will therefore proceed. I have proposed -to you to marry, not for your sake, for indeed I did not -think of you in the least at the moment you admire candor, -and will now be satisfied, I hope but because it suited me -to marry you as soon as possible, on account of certain -commercial speculations I am desirous of entering into." -Eugenie became uneasy. -"It is just as I tell you, I assure you, and you must not be -angry with me, for you have sought this disclosure. I do not -willingly enter into arithmetical explanations with an -artist like you, who fears to enter my study lest she should -imbibe disagreeable or antipoetic impressions and -sensations. But in that same banker's study, where you very -willingly presented yourself yesterday to ask for the -thousand francs I give you monthly for pocketmoney, you -must know, my dear young lady, that many things may be -learned, useful even to a girl who will not marry. There one -may learn, for instance, what, out of regard to your nervous -susceptibility, I will inform you of in the drawingroom, -namely, that the credit of a banker is his physical and -moral life that credit sustains him as breath animates the -body and M. de Monte Cristo once gave me a lecture on that -subject, which I have never forgotten. There we may learn -that as credit sinks, the body becomes a corpse, and this is -what must happen very soon to the banker who is proud to own -so good a logician as you for his daughter." But Eugenie, -instead of stooping, drew herself up under the blow. -"Ruined?" said she. -"Exactly, my daughter that is precisely what I mean," said -Danglars, almost digging his nails into his breast, while he -preserved on his harsh features the smile of the heartless -though clever man "ruined yes, that is it." -"Ah" said Eugenie. -"Yes, ruined Now it is revealed, this secret so full of -horror, as the tragic poet says. Now, my daughter, learn -from my lips how you may alleviate this misfortune, so far -as it will affect you." -"Oh," cried Eugenie, "you are a bad physiognomist, if you -imagine I deplore on my own account the catastrophe of which -you warn me. I ruined? and what will that signify to me? -Have I not my talent left? Can I not, like Pasta, Malibran, -Grisi, acquire for myself what you would never have given -me, whatever might have been your fortune, a hundred or a -hundred and fifty thousand livres per annum, for which I -shall be indebted to no one but myself and which, instead -of being given as you gave me those poor twelve thousand -francs, with sour looks and reproaches for my prodigality, -will be accompanied with acclamations, with bravos, and with -flowers? And if I do not possess that talent, which your -smiles prove to me you doubt, should I not still have that -ardent love of independence, which will be a substitute for -wealth, and which in my mind supersedes even the instinct of -selfpreservation? No, I grieve not on my own account, I -shall always find a resource my books, my pencils, my -piano, all the things which cost but little, and which I -shall be able to procure, will remain my own. -"Do you think that I sorrow for Madame Danglars? Undeceive -yourself again either I am greatly mistaken, or she has -provided against the catastrophe which threatens you, and, -which will pass over without affecting her. She has taken -care for herself, at least I hope so, for her -attention has not been diverted from her projects by -watching over me. She has fostered my independence by -professedly indulging my love for liberty. Oh, no, sir from -my childhood I have seen too much, and understood too much, -of what has passed around me, for misfortune to have an -undue power over me. From my earliest recollections, I have -been beloved by no one so much the worse that has -naturally led me to love no one so much the better now -you have my profession of faith." -"Then," said Danglars, pale with anger, which was not at all -due to offended paternal love, "then, mademoiselle, you -persist in your determination to accelerate my ruin?" -"Your ruin? I accelerate your ruin? What do you mean? I do -not understand you." -"So much the better, I have a ray of hope left listen." -"I am all attention," said Eugenie, looking so earnestly at -her father that it was an effort for the latter to endure -her unrelenting gaze. -"M. Cavalcanti," continued Danglars, "is about to marry you, -and will place in my hands his fortune, amounting to three -million livres." -"That is admirable" said Eugenie with sovereign contempt, -smoothing her gloves out one upon the other. -"You think I shall deprive you of those three millions," -said Danglars "but do not fear it. They are destined to -produce at least ten. I and a brother banker have obtained a -grant of a railway, the only industrial enterprise which in -these days promises to make good the fabulous prospects that -Law once held out to the eternally deluded Parisians, in the -fantastic Mississippi scheme. As I look at it, a millionth -part of a railway is worth fully as much as an acre of waste -land on the banks of the Ohio. We make in our case a -deposit, on a mortgage, which is an advance, as you see, -since we gain at least ten, fifteen, twenty, or a hundred -livres' worth of iron in exchange for our money. Well, -within a week I am to deposit four millions for my share -the four millions, I promise you, will produce ten or -twelve." -"But during my visit to you the day before yesterday, sir, -which you appear to recollect so well," replied Eugenie, "I -saw you arranging a deposit is not that the term? of -five millions and a half you even pointed it out to me in -two drafts on the treasury, and you were astonished that so -valuable a paper did not dazzle my eyes like lightning." -"Yes, but those five millions and a half are not mine, and -are only a proof of the great confidence placed in me my -title of popular banker has gained me the confidence of -charitable institutions, and the five millions and a half -belong to them at any other time I should not have -hesitated to make use of them, but the great losses I have -recently sustained are well known, and, as I told you, my -credit is rather shaken. That deposit may be at any moment -withdrawn, and if I had employed it for another purpose, I -should bring on me a disgraceful bankruptcy. I do not -despise bankruptcies, believe me, but they must be those -which enrich, not those which ruin. Now, if you marry M. -Cavalcanti, and I get the three millions, or even if it is -thought I am going to get them, my credit will be restored, -and my fortune, which for the last month or two has been -swallowed up in gulfs which have been opened in my path by -an inconceivable fatality, will revive. Do you understand -me?" -"Perfectly you pledge me for three millions, do you not?" -"The greater the amount, the more flattering it is to you -it gives you an idea of your value." -"Thank you. One word more, sir do you promise me to make -what use you can of the report of the fortune M. Cavalcanti -will bring without touching the money? This is no act of -selfishness, but of delicacy. I am willing to help rebuild -your fortune, but I will not be an accomplice in the ruin of -others." -"But since I tell you," cried Danglars, "that with these -three million" -"Do you expect to recover your position, sir, without -touching those three million?" -"I hope so, if the marriage should take place and confirm my -credit." -"Shall you be able to pay M. Cavalcanti the five hundred -thousand francs you promise for my dowry?" -"He shall receive them on returning from the mayor's." - The performance of the civil marriage. -"Very well" -"What next? what more do you want?" -"I wish to know if, in demanding my signature, you leave me -entirely free in my person?" -"Absolutely." -"Then, as I said before, sir, very well I am ready to -marry M. Cavalcanti." -"But what are you up to?" -"Ah, that is my affair. What advantage should I have over -you, if knowing your secret I were to tell you mine?" -Danglars bit his lips. "Then," said he, "you are ready to -pay the official visits, which are absolutely -indispensable?" -"Yes," replied Eugenie. -"And to sign the contract in three days?" -"Yes." -"Then, in my turn, I also say, very well" Danglars pressed -his daughter's hand in his. But, extraordinary to relate, -the father did not say, "Thank you, my child," nor did the -daughter smile at her father. "Is the conference ended?" -asked Eugenie, rising. Danglars motioned that he had nothing -more to say. Five minutes afterwards the piano resounded to -the touch of Mademoiselle d'Armilly's fingers, and -Mademoiselle Danglars was singing Brabantio's malediction on -Desdemona. At the end of the piece Etienne entered, and -announced to Eugenie that the horses were in the carriage, -and that the baroness was waiting for her to pay her visits. -We have seen them at Villefort's they proceeded then on -their course. -Chapter -The Contract. -Three days after the scene we have just described, namely -towards five o'clock in the afternoon of the day fixed for -the signature of the contract between Mademoiselle Eugenie -Danglars and Andrea Cavalcanti, whom the banker persisted -in calling prince, a fresh breeze was stirring the leaves -in the little garden in front of the Count of Monte Cristo's -house, and the count was preparing to go out. While his -horses were impatiently pawing the ground, held in by the -coachman, who had been seated a quarter of an hour on his -box, the elegant phaeton with which we are familiar -rapidly turned the angle of the entrancegate, and cast out -on the doorsteps M. Andrea Cavalcanti, as decked up and gay -as if he were going to marry a princess. He inquired after -the count with his usual familiarity, and ascending lightly -to the second story met him at the top of the stairs. The -count stopped on seeing the young man. As for Andrea, he was -launched, and when he was once launched nothing stopped him. -"Ah, good morning, my dear count," said he. "Ah, M. Andrea," -said the latter, with his halfjesting tone "how do you -do." -"Charmingly, as you see. I am come to talk to you about a -thousand things but, first tell me, were you going out or -just returned?" -"I was going out, sir." -"Then, in order not to hinder you, I will get up with you if -you please in your carriage, and Tom shall follow with my -phaeton in tow." -"No," said the count, with an imperceptible smile of -contempt, for he had no wish to be seen in the young man's -society, "no I prefer listening to you here, my dear M. -Andrea we can chat better indoors, and there is no -coachman to overhear our conversation." The count returned -to a small drawingroom on the first floor, sat down, and -crossing his legs motioned to the young man to take a seat -also. Andrea assumed his gayest manner. "You know, my dear -count," said he, "the ceremony is to take place this -evening. At nine o'clock the contract is to be signed at my -fatherinlaw's." -"Ah, indeed?" said Monte Cristo. -"What is it news to you? Has not M. Danglars informed you -of the ceremony?" -"Oh, yes," said the count "I received a letter from him -yesterday, but I do not think the hour was mentioned." -"Possibly my fatherinlaw trusted to its general -notoriety." -"Well," said Monte Cristo, "you are fortunate, M. -Cavalcanti it is a most suitable alliance you are -contracting, and Mademoiselle Danglars is a handsome girl." -"Yes, indeed she is," replied Cavalcanti, in a very modest -tone. -"Above all, she is very rich, at least, I believe so," -said Monte Cristo. -"Very rich, do you think?" replied the young man. -"Doubtless it is said M. Danglars conceals at least half of -his fortune." -"And he acknowledges fifteen or twenty millions," said -Andrea with a look sparkling with joy. -"Without reckoning," added Monte Cristo, "that he is on the -eve of entering into a sort of speculation already in vogue -in the United States and in England, but quite novel in -France." -"Yes, yes, I know what you mean, the railway, of which he -has obtained the grant, is it not?" -"Precisely it is generally believed he will gain ten -millions by that affair." -"Ten millions Do you think so? It is magnificent" said -Cavalcanti, who was quite confounded at the metallic sound -of these golden words. "Without reckoning," replied Monte -Cristo, "that all his fortune will come to you, and justly -too, since Mademoiselle Danglars is an only daughter. -Besides, your own fortune, as your father assured me, is -almost equal to that of your betrothed. But enough of money -matters. Do you know, M. Andrea, I think you have managed -this affair rather skilfully?" -"Not badly, by any means," said the young man "I was born -for a diplomatist." -"Well, you must become a diplomatist diplomacy, you know, -is something that is not to be acquired it is instinctive. -Have you lost your heart?" -"Indeed, I fear it," replied Andrea, in the tone in which he -had heard Dorante or Valere reply to Alceste at the Theatre -Francais. -"Is your love returned?" - In Moliere's comedy, Le Misanthrope. -"I suppose so," said Andrea with a triumphant smile, "since -I am accepted. But I must not forget one grand point." -"Which?" -"That I have been singularly assisted." -"Nonsense." -"I have, indeed." -"By circumstances?" -"No by you." -"By me? Not at all, prince," said Monte Cristo laying a -marked stress on the title, "what have I done for you? Are -not your name, your social position, and your merit -sufficient?" -"No," said Andrea, "no it is useless for you to say so, -count. I maintain that the position of a man like you has -done more than my name, my social position, and my merit." -"You are completely mistaken, sir," said Monte Cristo -coldly, who felt the perfidious manoeuvre of the young man, -and understood the bearing of his words "you only acquired -my protection after the influence and fortune of your father -had been ascertained for, after all, who procured for me, -who had never seen either you or your illustrious father, -the pleasure of your acquaintance? two of my good -friends, Lord Wilmore and the Abbe Busoni. What encouraged -me not to become your surety, but to patronize you? your -father's name, so well known in Italy and so highly honored. -Personally, I do not know you." This calm tone and perfect -ease made Andrea feel that he was, for the moment, -restrained by a more muscular hand than his own, and that -the restraint could not be easily broken through. -"Oh, then my father has really a very large fortune, count?" -"It appears so, sir," replied Monte Cristo. -"Do you know if the marriage settlement he promised me has -come?" -"I have been advised of it." -"But the three millions?" -"The three millions are probably on the road." -"Then I shall really have them?" -"Oh, well," said the count, "I do not think you have yet -known the want of money." Andrea was so surprised that he -pondered the matter for a moment. Then, arousing from his -revery, "Now, sir, I have one request to make to you, -which you will understand, even if it should be disagreeable -to you." -"Proceed," said Monte Cristo. -"I have formed an acquaintance, thanks to my good fortune, -with many noted persons, and have, at least for the moment, -a crowd of friends. But marrying, as I am about to do, -before all Paris, I ought to be supported by an illustrious -name, and in the absence of the paternal hand some powerful -one ought to lead me to the altar now, my father is not -coming to Paris, is he? He is old, covered with wounds, and -suffers dreadfully, he says, in travelling." -"Indeed?" -"Well, I am come to ask a favor of you." -"Of me?" -"Yes, of you." -"And pray what may it be?" -"Well, to take his part." -"Ah, my dear sir What? after the varied relations I have -had the happiness to sustain towards you, can it be that you -know me so little as to ask such a thing? Ask me to lend you -half a million and, although such a loan is somewhat rare, -on my honor, you would annoy me less Know, then, what I -thought I had already told you, that in participation in -this world's affairs, more especially in their moral -aspects, the Count of Monte Cristo has never ceased to -entertain the scruples and even the superstitions of the -East. I, who have a seraglio at Cairo, one at Smyrna, and -one at Constantinople, preside at a wedding? never" -"Then you refuse me?" -"Decidedly and were you my son or my brother I would refuse -you in the same way." -"But what must be done?" said Andrea, disappointed. -"You said just now that you had a hundred friends." -"Very true, but you introduced me at M. Danglars'." -"Not at all Let us recall the exact facts. You met him at a -dinner party at my house, and you introduced yourself at his -house that is a totally different affair." -"Yes, but, by my marriage, you have forwarded that." -"I? not in the least, I beg you to believe. Recollect -what I told you when you asked me to propose you. "Oh, I -never make matches, my dear prince, it is my settled -principle.'" Andrea bit his lips. -"But, at least, you will be there?" -"Will all Paris be there?" -"Oh, certainly." -"Well, like all Paris, I shall be there too," said the -count. -"And will you sign the contract?" -"I see no objection to that my scruples do not go thus -far." -"Well, since you will grant me no more, I must be content -with what you give me. But one word more, count." -"What is it?" -"Advice." -"Be careful advice is worse than a service." -"Oh, you can give me this without compromising yourself." -"Tell me what it is." -"Is my wife's fortune five hundred thousand livres?" -"That is the sum M. Danglars himself announced." -"Must I receive it, or leave it in the hands of the notary?" -"This is the way such affairs are generally arranged when it -is wished to do them stylishly Your two solicitors appoint -a meeting, when the contract is signed, for the next or the -following day then they exchange the two portions, for -which they each give a receipt then, when the marriage is -celebrated, they place the amount at your disposal as the -chief member of the alliance." -"Because," said Andrea, with a certain illconcealed -uneasiness, "I thought I heard my fatherinlaw say that he -intended embarking our property in that famous railway -affair of which you spoke just now." -"Well," replied Monte Cristo, "it will be the way, everybody -says, of trebling your fortune in twelve months. Baron -Danglars is a good father, and knows how to calculate." -"In that case," said Andrea, "everything is all right, -excepting your refusal, which quite grieves me." -"You must attribute it only to natural scruples under -similar circumstances." -"Well," said Andrea, "let it be as you wish. This evening, -then, at nine o'clock." -"Adieu till then." Notwithstanding a slight resistance on -the part of Monte Cristo, whose lips turned pale, but who -preserved his ceremonious smile, Andrea seized the count's -hand, pressed it, jumped into his phaeton, and disappeared. -The four or five remaining hours before nine o'clock -arrived, Andrea employed in riding, paying visits, -designed to induce those of whom he had spoken to appear at -the banker's in their gayest equipages, dazzling them by -promises of shares in schemes which have since turned every -brain, and in which Danglars was just taking the initiative. -In fact, at halfpast eight in the evening the grand salon, -the gallery adjoining, and the three other drawingrooms on -the same floor, were filled with a perfumed crowd, who -sympathized but little in the event, but who all -participated in that love of being present wherever there is -anything fresh to be seen. An Academician would say that the -entertainments of the fashionable world are collections of -flowers which attract inconstant butterflies, famished bees, -and buzzing drones. -No one could deny that the rooms were splendidly -illuminated the light streamed forth on the gilt mouldings -and the silk hangings and all the bad taste of decorations, -which had only their richness to boast of, shone in its -splendor. Mademoiselle Eugenie was dressed with elegant -simplicity in a figured white silk dress, and a white rose -half concealed in her jet black hair was her only ornament, -unaccompanied by a single jewel. Her eyes, however, betrayed -that perfect confidence which contradicted the girlish -simplicity of this modest attire. Madame Danglars was -chatting at a short distance with Debray, Beauchamp, and -ChateauRenaud. -Debray was admitted to the house for this grand ceremony, -but on the same plane with every one else, and without any -particular privilege. M. Danglars, surrounded by deputies -and men connected with the revenue, was explaining a new -theory of taxation which he intended to adopt when the -course of events had compelled the government to call him -into the ministry. Andrea, on whose arm hung one of the most -consummate dandies of the opera, was explaining to him -rather cleverly, since he was obliged to be bold to appear -at ease, his future projects, and the new luxuries he meant -to introduce to Parisian fashions with his hundred and -seventyfive thousand livres per annum. -The crowd moved to and fro in the rooms like an ebb and flow -of turquoises, rubies, emeralds, opals, and diamonds. As -usual, the oldest women were the most decorated, and the -ugliest the most conspicuous. If there was a beautiful lily, -or a sweet rose, you had to search for it, concealed in some -corner behind a mother with a turban, or an aunt with a bird -of paradise. -At each moment, in the midst of the crowd, the buzzing, and -the laughter, the doorkeeper's voice was heard announcing -some name well known in the financial department, respected -in the army, or illustrious in the literary world, and which -was acknowledged by a slight movement in the different -groups. But for one whose privilege it was to agitate that -ocean of human waves, how many were received with a look of -indifference or a sneer of disdain At the moment when the -hand of the massive timepiece, representing Endymion -asleep, pointed to nine on its golden face, and the hammer, -the faithful type of mechanical thought, struck nine times, -the name of the Count of Monte Cristo resounded in its turn, -and as if by an electric shock all the assembly turned -towards the door. -The count was dressed in black and with his habitual -simplicity his white waistcoat displayed his expansive -noble chest and his black stock was singularly noticeable -because of its contrast with the deadly paleness of his -face. His only jewellery was a chain, so fine that the -slender gold thread was scarcely perceptible on his white -waistcoat. A circle was immediately formed around the door. -The count perceived at one glance Madame Danglars at one end -of the drawingroom, M. Danglars at the other, and Eugenie -in front of him. He first advanced towards the baroness, who -was chatting with Madame de Villefort, who had come alone, -Valentine being still an invalid and without turning aside, -so clear was the road left for him, he passed from the -baroness to Eugenie, whom he complimented in such rapid and -measured terms, that the proud artist was quite struck. Near -her was Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who thanked the count -for the letters of introduction he had so kindly given her -for Italy, which she intended immediately to make use of. On -leaving these ladies he found himself with Danglars, who had -advanced to meet him. -Having accomplished these three social duties, Monte Cristo -stopped, looking around him with that expression peculiar to -a certain class, which seems to say, "I have done my duty, -now let others do theirs." Andrea, who was in an adjoining -room, had shared in the sensation caused by the arrival of -Monte Cristo, and now came forward to pay his respects to -the count. He found him completely surrounded all were -eager to speak to him, as is always the case with those -whose words are few and weighty. The solicitors arrived at -this moment and arranged their scrawled papers on the velvet -cloth embroidered with gold which covered the table prepared -for the signature it was a gilt table supported on lions' -claws. One of the notaries sat down, the other remained -standing. They were about to proceed to the reading of the -contract, which half Paris assembled was to sign. All took -their places, or rather the ladies formed a circle, while -the gentlemen more indifferent to the restraints of what -Boileau calls the "energetic style" commented on the -feverish agitation of Andrea, on M. Danglars' riveted -attention, Eugenie's composure, and the light and sprightly -manner in which the baroness treated this important affair. -The contract was read during a profound silence. But as soon -as it was finished, the buzz was redoubled through all the -drawingrooms the brilliant sums, the rolling millions -which were to be at the command of the two young people, and -which crowned the display of the wedding presents and the -young lady's diamonds, which had been made in a room -entirely appropriated for that purpose, had exercised to the -full their delusions over the envious assembly. Mademoiselle -Danglars' charms were heightened in the opinion of the young -men, and for the moment seemed to outvie the sun in -splendor. As for the ladies, it is needless to say that -while they coveted the millions, they thought they did not -need them for themselves, as they were beautiful enough -without them. Andrea, surrounded by his friends, -complimented, flattered, beginning to believe in the reality -of his dream, was almost bewildered. The notary solemnly -took the pen, flourished it above his head, and said, -"Gentlemen, we are about to sign the contract." -The baron was to sign first, then the representative of M. -Cavalcanti, senior, then the baroness, afterwards the -"future couple," as they are styled in the abominable -phraseology of legal documents. The baron took the pen and -signed, then the representative. The baroness approached, -leaning on Madame de Villefort's arm. "My dear," said she, -as she took the pen, "is it not vexatious? An unexpected -incident, in the affair of murder and theft at the Count of -Monte Cristo's, in which he nearly fell a victim, deprives -us of the pleasure of seeing M. de Villefort." -"Indeed?" said M. Danglars, in the same tone in which he -would have said, "Oh, well, what do I care?" -"As a matter of fact," said Monte Cristo, approaching, "I am -much afraid that I am the involuntary cause of his absence." -"What, you, count?" said Madame Danglars, signing "if you -are, take care, for I shall never forgive you." Andrea -pricked up his ears. -"But it is not my fault, as I shall endeavor to prove." -Every one listened eagerly Monte Cristo who so rarely -opened his lips, was about to speak. "You remember," said -the count, during the most profound silence, "that the -unhappy wretch who came to rob me died at my house the -supposition is that he was stabbed by his accomplice, on -attempting to leave it." -"Yes," said Danglars. -"In order that his wounds might be examined he was -undressed, and his clothes were thrown into a corner, where -the police picked them up, with the exception of the -waistcoat, which they overlooked." Andrea turned pale, and -drew towards the door he saw a cloud rising in the horizon, -which appeared to forebode a coming storm. -"Well, this waistcoat was discovered today, covered with -blood, and with a hole over the heart." The ladies screamed, -and two or three prepared to faint. "It was brought to me. -No one could guess what the dirty rag could be I alone -suspected that it was the waistcoat of the murdered man. My -valet, in examining this mournful relic, felt a paper in the -pocket and drew it out it was a letter addressed to you, -baron." -"To me?" cried Danglars. -"Yes, indeed, to you I succeeded in deciphering your name -under the blood with which the letter was stained," replied -Monte Cristo, amid the general outburst of amazement. -"But," asked Madame Danglars, looking at her husband with -uneasiness, "how could that prevent M. de Villefort" -"In this simple way, madame," replied Monte Cristo "the -waistcoat and the letter were both what is termed -circumstantial evidence I therefore sent them to the king's -attorney. You understand, my dear baron, that legal methods -are the safest in criminal cases it was, perhaps, some plot -against you." Andrea looked steadily at Monte Cristo and -disappeared in the second drawingroom. -"Possibly," said Danglars "was not this murdered man an old -galleyslave?" -"Yes," replied the count "a felon named Caderousse." -Danglars turned slightly pale Andrea reached the anteroom -beyond the little drawingroom. -"But go on signing," said Monte Cristo "I perceive that my -story has caused a general emotion, and I beg to apologize -to you, baroness, and to Mademoiselle Danglars." The -baroness, who had signed, returned the pen to the notary. -"Prince Cavalcanti," said the latter "Prince Cavalcanti, -where are you?" -"Andrea, Andrea," repeated several young people, who were -already on sufficiently intimate terms with him to call him -by his Christian name. -"Call the prince inform him that it is his turn to sign," -cried Danglars to one of the floorkeepers. -But at the same instant the crowd of guests rushed in alarm -into the principal salon as if some frightful monster had -entered the apartments, quaerens quem devoret. There was, -indeed, reason to retreat, to be alarmed, and to scream. An -officer was placing two soldiers at the door of each -drawingroom, and was advancing towards Danglars, preceded -by a commissary of police, girded with his scarf. Madame -Danglars uttered a scream and fainted. Danglars, who thought -himself threatened certain consciences are never calm, -Danglars even before his guests showed a countenance of -abject terror. -"What is the matter, sir?" asked Monte Cristo, advancing to -meet the commissioner. -"Which of you gentlemen," asked the magistrate, without -replying to the count, "answers to the name of Andrea -Cavalcanti?" A cry of astonishment was heard from all parts -of the room. They searched they questioned. "But who then -is Andrea Cavalcanti?" asked Danglars in amazement. -"A galleyslave, escaped from confinement at Toulon." -"And what crime has he committed?" -"He is accused," said the commissary with his inflexible -voice, "of having assassinated the man named Caderousse, his -former companion in prison, at the moment he was making his -escape from the house of the Count of Monte Cristo." Monte -Cristo cast a rapid glance around him. Andrea was gone. -Chapter -The Departure for Belgium. -A few minutes after the scene of confusion produced in the -salons of M. Danglars by the unexpected appearance of the -brigade of soldiers, and by the disclosure which had -followed, the mansion was deserted with as much rapidity as -if a case of plague or of cholera morbus had broken out -among the guests. In a few minutes, through all the doors, -down all the staircases, by every exit, every one hastened -to retire, or rather to fly for it was a situation where -the ordinary condolences, which even the best friends are -so eager to offer in great catastrophes, were seen to be -utterly futile. There remained in the banker's house only -Danglars, closeted in his study, and making his statement to -the officer of gendarmes Madame Danglars, terrified, in the -boudoir with which we are acquainted and Eugenie, who with -haughty air and disdainful lip had retired to her room with -her inseparable companion, Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly. As -for the numerous servants more numerous that evening than -usual, for their number was augmented by cooks and butlers -from the Cafe de Paris, venting on their employers their -anger at what they termed the insult to which they had been -subjected, they collected in groups in the hall, in the -kitchens, or in their rooms, thinking very little of their -duty, which was thus naturally interrupted. Of all this -household, only two persons deserve our notice these are -Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars and Mademoiselle Louise -d'Armilly. -The betrothed had retired, as we said, with haughty air, -disdainful lip, and the demeanor of an outraged queen, -followed by her companion, who was paler and more disturbed -than herself. On reaching her room Eugenie locked her door, -while Louise fell on a chair. "Ah, what a dreadful thing," -said the young musician "who would have suspected it? M. -Andrea Cavalcanti a murderer a galleyslave escaped a -convict" An ironical smile curled the lip of Eugenie. "In -truth I was fated," said she. "I escaped the Morcerf only to -fall into the Cavalcanti." -"Oh, do not confound the two, Eugenie." -"Hold your tongue The men are all infamous, and I am happy -to be able now to do more than detest them I despise -them." -"What shall we do?" asked Louise. -"What shall we do?" -"Yes." -"Why, the same we had intended doing three days since set -off." -"What? although you are not now going to be married, you -intend still" -"Listen, Louise. I hate this life of the fashionable world, -always ordered, measured, ruled, like our musicpaper. What -I have always wished for, desired, and coveted, is the life -of an artist, free and independent, relying only on my own -resources, and accountable only to myself. Remain here? What -for? that they may try, a month hence, to marry me again -and to whom? M. Debray, perhaps, as it was once proposed. -No, Louise, no This evening's adventure will serve for my -excuse. I did not seek one, I did not ask for one. God sends -me this, and I hail it joyfully" -"How strong and courageous you are" said the fair, frail -girl to her brunette companion. -"Did you not yet know me? Come, Louise, let us talk of our -affairs. The postchaise" -"Was happily bought three days since." -"Have you had it sent where we are to go for it?" -"Yes." -"Our passport?" -"Here it is." -And Eugenie, with her usual precision, opened a printed -paper, and read, -"M. Leon d'Armilly, twenty years of age profession, artist -hair black, eyes black travelling with his sister." -"Capital How did you get this passport?" -"When I went to ask M. de Monte Cristo for letters to the -directors of the theatres at Rome and Naples, I expressed my -fears of travelling as a woman he perfectly understood -them, and undertook to procure for me a man's passport, and -two days after I received this, to which I have added with -my own hand, "travelling with his sister.'" -"Well," said Eugenie cheerfully, "we have then only to pack -up our trunks we shall start the evening of the signing of -the contract, instead of the evening of the wedding that -is all." -"But consider the matter seriously, Eugenie" -"Oh, I am done with considering I am tired of hearing only -of market reports, of the end of the month, of the rise and -fall of Spanish funds, of Haitian bonds. Instead of that, -Louise do you understand? air, liberty, melody of -birds, plains of Lombardy, Venetian canals, Roman palaces, -the Bay of Naples. How much have we, Louise?" The young girl -to whom this question was addressed drew from an inlaid -secretary a small portfolio with a lock, in which she -counted twentythree banknotes. -"Twentythree thousand francs," said she. -"And as much, at least, in pearls, diamonds, and jewels," -said Eugenie. "We are rich. With fortyfive thousand francs -we can live like princesses for two years, and comfortably -for four but before six months you with your music, and -I with my voice we shall double our capital. Come, you -shall take charge of the money, I of the jewelbox so that -if one of us had the misfortune to lose her treasure, the -other would still have hers left. Now, the portmanteau -let us make haste the portmanteau" -"Stop" said Louise, going to listen at Madame Danglars' -door. -"What do you fear?" -"That we may be discovered." -"The door is locked." -"They may tell us to open it." -"They may if they like, but we will not." -"You are a perfect Amazon, Eugenie" And the two young girls -began to heap into a trunk all the things they thought they -should require. "There now," said Eugenie, "while I change -my costume do you lock the portmanteau." Louise pressed with -all the strength of her little hands on the top of the -portmanteau. "But I cannot," said she "I am not strong -enough do you shut it." -"Ah, you do well to ask," said Eugenie, laughing "I forgot -that I was Hercules, and you only the pale Omphale" And the -young girl, kneeling on the top, pressed the two parts of -the portmanteau together, and Mademoiselle d'Armilly passed -the bolt of the padlock through. When this was done, Eugenie -opened a drawer, of which she kept the key, and took from it -a wadded violet silk travelling cloak. "Here," said she, -"you see I have thought of everything with this cloak you -will not be cold." -"But you?" -"Oh, I am never cold, you know Besides, with these men's -clothes" -"Will you dress here?" -"Certainly." -"Shall you have time?" -"Do not be uneasy, you little coward All our servants are -busy, discussing the grand affair. Besides, what is there -astonishing, when you think of the grief I ought to be in, -that I shut myself up? tell me" -"No, truly you comfort me." -"Come and help me." -From the same drawer she took a man's complete costume, from -the boots to the coat, and a provision of linen, where there -was nothing superfluous, but every requisite. Then, with a -promptitude which indicated that this was not the first time -she had amused herself by adopting the garb of the opposite -sex, Eugenie drew on the boots and pantaloons, tied her -cravat, buttoned her waistcoat up to the throat, and put on -a coat which admirably fitted her beautiful figure. "Oh, -that is very good indeed, it is very good" said Louise, -looking at her with admiration "but that beautiful black -hair, those magnificent braids, which made all the ladies -sigh with envy, will they go under a man's hat like the -one I see down there?" -"You shall see," said Eugenie. And with her left hand -seizing the thick mass, which her long fingers could -scarcely grasp, she took in her right hand a pair of long -scissors, and soon the steel met through the rich and -splendid hair, which fell in a cluster at her feet as she -leaned back to keep it from her coat. Then she grasped the -front hair, which she also cut off, without expressing the -least regret on the contrary, her eyes sparkled with -greater pleasure than usual under her ebony eyebrows. "Oh, -the magnificent hair" said Louise, with regret. -"And am I not a hundred times better thus?" cried Eugenie, -smoothing the scattered curls of her hair, which had now -quite a masculine appearance "and do you not think me -handsomer so?" -"Oh, you are beautiful always beautiful" cried Louise. -"Now, where are you going?" -"To Brussels, if you like it is the nearest frontier. We -can go to Brussels, Liege, AixlaChapelle then up the -Rhine to Strasburg. We will cross Switzerland, and go down -into Italy by the SaintGothard. Will that do?" -"Yes." -"What are you looking at?" -"I am looking at you indeed you are adorable like that One -would say you were carrying me off." -"And they would be right, pardieu" -"Oh, I think you swore, Eugenie." And the two young girls, -whom every one might have thought plunged in grief, the one -on her own account, the other from interest in her friend, -burst out laughing, as they cleared away every visible trace -of the disorder which had naturally accompanied the -preparations for their escape. Then, having blown out the -lights, the two fugitives, looking and listening eagerly, -with outstretched necks, opened the door of a dressingroom -which led by a side staircase down to the yard, Eugenie -going first, and holding with one arm the portmanteau, which -by the opposite handle Mademoiselle d'Armilly scarcely -raised with both hands. The yard was empty the clock was -striking twelve. The porter was not yet gone to bed. Eugenie -approached softly, and saw the old man sleeping soundly in -an armchair in his lodge. She returned to Louise, took up -the portmanteau, which she had placed for a moment on the -ground, and they reached the archway under the shadow of the -wall. -Eugenie concealed Louise in an angle of the gateway, so that -if the porter chanced to awake he might see but one person. -Then placing herself in the full light of the lamp which lit -the yard, "Gate" cried she, with her finest contralto -voice, and rapping at the window. -The porter got up as Eugenie expected, and even advanced -some steps to recognize the person who was going out, but -seeing a young man striking his boot impatiently with his -ridingwhip, he opened it immediately. Louise slid through -the halfopen gate like a snake, and bounded lightly -forward. Eugenie, apparently calm, although in all -probability her heart beat somewhat faster than usual, went -out in her turn. A porter was passing and they gave him the -portmanteau then the two young girls, having told him to -take it to No. , Rue de la Victoire, walked behind this -man, whose presence comforted Louise. As for Eugenie, she -was as strong as a Judith or a Delilah. They arrived at the -appointed spot. Eugenie ordered the porter to put down the -portmanteau, gave him some pieces of money, and having -rapped at the shutter sent him away. The shutter where -Eugenie had rapped was that of a little laundress, who had -been previously warned, and was not yet gone to bed. She -opened the door. -"Mademoiselle," said Eugenie, "let the porter get the -postchaise from the coachhouse, and fetch some posthorses -from the hotel. Here are five francs for his trouble." -"Indeed," said Louise, "I admire you, and I could almost say -respect you." The laundress looked on in astonishment, but -as she had been promised twenty louis, she made no remark. -In a quarter of an hour the porter returned with a postboy -and horses, which were harnessed, and put in the postchaise -in a minute, while the porter fastened the portmanteau on -with the assistance of a cord and strap. "Here is the -passport," said the postilion, "which way are we going, -young gentleman?" -"To Fontainebleau," replied Eugenie with an almost masculine -voice. -"What do you say?" said Louise. -"I am giving them the slip," said Eugenie "this woman to -whom we have given twenty louis may betray us for forty we -will soon alter our direction." And the young girl jumped -into the britzska, which was admirably arranged for sleeping -in, without scarcely touching the step. "You are always -right," said the music teacher, seating herself by the side -of her friend. -A quarter of an hour afterwards the postilion, having been -put in the right road, passed with a crack of his whip -through the gateway of the Barriere SaintMartin. "Ah," said -Louise, breathing freely, "here we are out of Paris." -"Yes, my dear, the abduction is an accomplished fact," -replied Eugenie. "Yes, and without violence," said Louise. -"I shall bring that forward as an extenuating circumstance," -replied Eugenie. These words were lost in the noise which -the carriage made in rolling over the pavement of La -Villette. M. Danglars no longer had a daughter. -Chapter -The Bell and Bottle Tavern. -And now let us leave Mademoiselle Danglars and her friend -pursuing their way to Brussels, and return to poor Andrea -Cavalcanti, so inopportunely interrupted in his rise to -fortune. Notwithstanding his youth, Master Andrea was a very -skilful and intelligent boy. We have seen that on the first -rumor which reached the salon he had gradually approached -the door, and crossing two or three rooms at last -disappeared. But we have forgotten to mention one -circumstance, which nevertheless ought not to be omitted in -one of the rooms he crossed, the trousseau of the -brideelect was on exhibition. There were caskets of -diamonds, cashmere shawls, Valenciennes lace, English -veilings, and in fact all the tempting things, the bare -mention of which makes the hearts of young girls bound with -joy, and which is called the "corbeille." Now, in passing -through this room, Andrea proved himself not only to be -clever and intelligent, but also provident, for he helped -himself to the most valuable of the ornaments before him. - Literally, "the basket," because wedding gifts were -originally brought in such a receptacle. -Furnished with this plunder, Andrea leaped with a lighter -heart from the window, intending to slip through the hands -of the gendarmes. Tall and well proportioned as an ancient -gladiator, and muscular as a Spartan, he walked for a -quarter of an hour without knowing where to direct his -steps, actuated by the sole idea of getting away from the -spot where if he lingered he knew that he would surely be -taken. Having passed through the Rue Mont Blanc, guided by -the instinct which leads thieves always to take the safest -path, he found himself at the end of the Rue Lafayette. -There he stopped, breathless and panting. He was quite -alone on one side was the vast wilderness of the -SaintLazare, on the other, Paris enshrouded in darkness. -"Am I to be captured?" he cried "no, not if I can use more -activity than my enemies. My safety is now a mere question -of speed." At this moment he saw a cab at the top of the -Faubourg Poissonniere. The dull driver, smoking his pipe, -was plodding along toward the limits of the Faubourg -SaintDenis, where no doubt he ordinarily had his station. -"Ho, friend" said Benedetto. -"What do you want, sir?" asked the driver. -"Is your horse tired?" -"Tired? oh, yes, tired enough he has done nothing the -whole of this blessed day Four wretched fares, and twenty -sous over, making in all seven francs, are all that I have -earned, and I ought to take ten to the owner." -"Will you add these twenty francs to the seven you have?" -"With pleasure, sir twenty francs are not to be despised. -Tell me what I am to do for this." -"A very easy thing, if your horse isn't tired." -"I tell you he'll go like the wind, only tell me which -way to drive." -"Towards the Louvres." -"Ah, I know the way you get good sweetened rum over -there." -"Exactly so I merely wish to overtake one of my friends, -with whom I am going to hunt tomorrow at -ChapelleenServal. He should have waited for me here with a -cabriolet till halfpast eleven it is twelve, and, tired of -waiting, he must have gone on." -"It is likely." -"Well, will you try and overtake him?" -"Nothing I should like better." -"If you do not overtake him before we reach Bourget you -shall have twenty francs if not before Louvres, thirty." -"And if we do overtake him?" -"Forty," said Andrea, after a moment's hesitation, at the -end of which he remembered that he might safely promise. -"That's all right," said the man "hop in, and we're off -Whooop, la" -Andrea got into the cab, which passed rapidly through the -Faubourg SaintDenis, along the Faubourg SaintMartin, -crossed the barrier, and threaded its way through the -interminable Villette. They never overtook the chimerical -friend, yet Andrea frequently inquired of people on foot -whom he passed and at the inns which were not yet closed, -for a green cabriolet and bay horse and as there are a -great many cabriolets to be seen on the road to the Low -Countries, and as ninetenths of them are green, the -inquiries increased at every step. Every one had just seen -it pass it was only five hundred, two hundred, one hundred -steps in advance at length they reached it, but it was not -the friend. Once the cab was also passed by a calash rapidly -whirled along by two posthorses. "Ah," said Cavalcanti to -himself, "if I only had that britzska, those two good -posthorses, and above all the passport that carries them -on" And he sighed deeply. The calash contained Mademoiselle -Danglars and Mademoiselle d'Armilly. "Hurry, hurry" said -Andrea, "we must overtake him soon." And the poor horse -resumed the desperate gallop it had kept up since leaving -the barrier, and arrived steaming at Louvres. -"Certainly," said Andrea, "I shall not overtake my friend, -but I shall kill your horse, therefore I had better stop. -Here are thirty francs I will sleep at the Red Horse, and -will secure a place in the first coach. Goodnight, friend." -And Andrea, after placing six pieces of five francs each in -the man's hand, leaped lightly on to the pathway. The cabman -joyfully pocketed the sum, and turned back on his road to -Paris. Andrea pretended to go towards the Red Horse inn, but -after leaning an instant against the door, and hearing the -last sound of the cab, which was disappearing from view, he -went on his road, and with a lusty stride soon traversed the -space of two leagues. Then he rested he must be near -ChapelleenServal, where he pretended to be going. It was -not fatigue that stayed Andrea here it was that he might -form some resolution, adopt some plan. It would be -impossible to make use of a diligence, equally so to engage -posthorses to travel either way a passport was necessary. -It was still more impossible to remain in the department of -the Oise, one of the most open and strictly guarded in -France this was quite out of the question, especially to a -man like Andrea, perfectly conversant with criminal matters. -He sat down by the side of the moat, buried his face in his -hands and reflected. Ten minutes after he raised his head -his resolution was made. He threw some dust over the -topcoat, which he had found time to unhook from the -antechamber and button over his ball costume, and going to -ChapelleenServal he knocked loudly at the door of the only -inn in the place. The host opened. "My friend," said Andrea, -"I was coming from Montefontaine to Senlis, when my horse, -which is a troublesome creature, stumbled and threw me. I -must reach Compiegne tonight, or I shall cause deep anxiety -to my family. Could you let me hire a horse of you?" -An innkeeper has always a horse to let, whether it be good -or bad. The host called the stableboy, and ordered him to -saddle "Whitey," then he awoke his son, a child of seven -years, whom he ordered to ride before the gentleman and -bring back the horse. Andrea gave the innkeeper twenty -francs, and in taking them from his pocket dropped a -visiting card. This belonged to one of his friends at the -Cafe de Paris, so that the innkeeper, picking it up after -Andrea had left, was convinced that he had let his horse to -the Count of Mauleon, Rue SaintDominique, that being the -name and address on the card. "Whitey" was not a fast -animal, but he kept up an easy, steady pace in three hours -and a half Andrea had traversed the nine leagues which -separated him from Compiegne, and four o'clock struck as he -reached the place where the coaches stop. There is an -excellent tavern at Compiegne, well remembered by those who -have ever been there. Andrea, who had often stayed there in -his rides about Paris, recollected the Bell and Bottle inn -he turned around, saw the sign by the light of a reflected -lamp, and having dismissed the child, giving him all the -small coin he had about him, he began knocking at the door, -very reasonably concluding that having now three or four -hours before him he had best fortify himself against the -fatigues of the morrow by a sound sleep and a good supper. A -waiter opened the door. -"My friend," said Andrea, "I have been dining at -SaintJeanauBois, and expected to catch the coach which -passes by at midnight, but like a fool I have lost my way, -and have been walking for the last four hours in the forest. -Show me into one of those pretty little rooms which overlook -the court, and bring me a cold fowl and a bottle of -Bordeaux." The waiter had no suspicions Andrea spoke with -perfect composure, he had a cigar in his mouth, and his -hands in the pocket of his top coat his clothes were -fashionably made, his chin smooth, his boots irreproachable -he looked merely as if he had stayed out very late, that was -all. While the waiter was preparing his room, the hostess -arose Andrea assumed his most charming smile, and asked if -he could have No. , which he had occupied on his last stay -at Compiegne. Unfortunately, No. was engaged by a young -man who was travelling with his sister. Andrea appeared in -despair, but consoled himself when the hostess assured him -that No. , prepared for him, was situated precisely the -same as No. , and while warming his feet and chatting about -the last races at Chantilly, he waited until they announced -his room to be ready. -Andrea had not spoken without cause of the pretty rooms -looking out upon the court of the Bell Tavern, which with -its triple galleries like those of a theatre, with the -jessamine and clematis twining round the light columns, -forms one of the prettiest entrances to an inn that you can -imagine. The fowl was tender, the wine old, the fire clear -and sparkling, and Andrea was surprised to find himself -eating with as good an appetite as though nothing had -happened. Then he went to bed and almost immediately fell -into that deep sleep which is sure to visit men of twenty -years of age, even when they are torn with remorse. Now, -here we are obliged to own that Andrea ought to have felt -remorse, but that he did not. This was the plan which had -appealed to him to afford the best chance of his security. -Before daybreak he would awake, leave the inn after -rigorously paying his bill, and reaching the forest, he -would, under pretence of making studies in painting, test -the hospitality of some peasants, procure himself the dress -of a woodcutter and a hatchet, casting off the lion's skin -to assume that of the woodman then, with his hands covered -with dirt, his hair darkened by means of a leaden comb, his -complexion embrowned with a preparation for which one of his -old comrades had given him the recipe, he intended, by -following the wooded districts, to reach the nearest -frontier, walking by night and sleeping in the day in the -forests and quarries, and only entering inhabited regions to -buy a loaf from time to time. -Once past the frontier, Andrea proposed making money of his -diamonds and by uniting the proceeds to ten banknotes he -always carried about with him in case of accident, he would -then find himself possessor of about , livres, which he -philosophically considered as no very deplorable condition -after all. Moreover, he reckoned much on the interest of the -Danglars to hush up the rumor of their own misadventures. -These were the reasons which, added to the fatigue, caused -Andrea to sleep so soundly. In order that he might awaken -early he did not close the shutters, but contented himself -with bolting the door and placing on the table an unclasped -and longpointed knife, whose temper he well knew, and which -was never absent from him. About seven in the morning Andrea -was awakened by a ray of sunlight, which played, warm and -brilliant, upon his face. In all wellorganized brains, the -predominating idea and there always is one is sure to -be the last thought before sleeping, and the first upon -waking in the morning. Andrea had scarcely opened his eyes -when his predominating idea presented itself, and whispered -in his ear that he had slept too long. He jumped out of bed -and ran to the window. A gendarme was crossing the court. A -gendarme is one of the most striking objects in the world, -even to a man void of uneasiness but for one who has a -timid conscience, and with good cause too, the yellow, blue, -and white uniform is really very alarming. -"Why is that gendarme there?" asked Andrea of himself. Then, -all at once, he replied, with that logic which the reader -has, doubtless, remarked in him, "There is nothing -astonishing in seeing a gendarme at an inn instead of being -astonished, let me dress myself." And the youth dressed -himself with a facility his valet de chambre had failed to -rob him of during the two months of fashionable life he had -led in Paris. "Now then," said Andrea, while dressing -himself, "I'll wait till he leaves, and then I'll slip -away." And, saying this, Andrea, who had now put on his -boots and cravat, stole gently to the window, and a second -time lifted up the muslin curtain. Not only was the first -gendarme still there, but the young man now perceived a -second yellow, blue, and white uniform at the foot of the -staircase, the only one by which he could descend, while a -third, on horseback, holding a musket in his fist, was -posted as a sentinel at the great street door which alone -afforded the means of egress. -The appearance of the third gendarme settled the matter, for -a crowd of curious loungers was extended before him, -effectually blocking the entrance to the hotel. "They're -after me" was Andrea's first thought. "The devil" A pallor -overspread the young man's forehead, and he looked around -him with anxiety. His room, like all those on the same -floor, had but one outlet to the gallery in the sight of -everybody. "I am lost" was his second thought and, indeed, -for a man in Andrea's situation, an arrest meant the -assizes, trial, and death, death without mercy or delay. -For a moment he convulsively pressed his head within his -hands, and during that brief period he became nearly mad -with terror but soon a ray of hope glimmered in the -multitude of thoughts which bewildered his mind, and a faint -smile played upon his white lips and pallid cheeks. He -looked around and saw the objects of his search upon the -chimneypiece they were a pen, ink, and paper. With forced -composure he dipped the pen in the ink, and wrote the -following lines upon a sheet of paper -"I have no money to pay my bill, but I am not a dishonest -man I leave behind me as a pledge this pin, worth ten times -the amount. I shall be excused for leaving at daybreak, for -I was ashamed." -He then drew the pin from his cravat and placed it on the -paper. This done, instead of leaving the door fastened, he -drew back the bolts and even placed the door ajar, as though -he had left the room, forgetting to close it, and slipping -into the chimney like a man accustomed to that kind of -gymnastic exercise, having effaced the marks of his feet -upon the floor, he commenced climbing the only opening which -afforded him the means of escape. At this precise time, the -first gendarme Andrea had noticed walked upstairs, preceded -by the commissary of police, and supported by the second -gendarme who guarded the staircase and was himself -reenforced by the one stationed at the door. -Andrea was indebted for this visit to the following -circumstances. At daybreak, the telegraphs were set at work -in all directions, and almost immediately the authorities in -every district had exerted their utmost endeavors to arrest -the murderer of Caderousse. Compiegne, that royal residence -and fortified town, is well furnished with authorities, -gendarmes, and commissaries of police they therefore began -operations as soon as the telegraphic despatch arrived, and -the Bell and Bottle being the bestknown hotel in the town, -they had naturally directed their first inquiries there. -Now, besides the reports of the sentinels guarding the Hotel -de Ville, which is next door to the Bell and Bottle, it had -been stated by others that a number of travellers had -arrived during the night. The sentinel who was relieved at -six o'clock in the morning, remembered perfectly that just -as he was taking his post a few minutes past four a young -man arrived on horseback, with a little boy before him. The -young man, having dismissed the boy and horse, knocked at -the door of the hotel, which was opened, and again closed -after his entrance. This late arrival had attracted much -suspicion, and the young man being no other than Andrea, the -commissary and gendarme, who was a brigadier, directed their -steps towards his room. -They found the door ajar. "Oh, ho," said the brigadier, who -thoroughly understood the trick "a bad sign to find the -door open I would rather find it triply bolted." And, -indeed, the little note and pin upon the table confirmed, or -rather corroborated, the sad truth. Andrea had fled. We say -corroborated, because the brigadier was too experienced to -be convinced by a single proof. He glanced around, looked in -the bed, shook the curtains, opened the closets, and finally -stopped at the chimney. Andrea had taken the precaution to -leave no traces of his feet in the ashes, but still it was -an outlet, and in this light was not to be passed over -without serious investigation. -The brigadier sent for some sticks and straw, and having -filled the chimney with them, set a light to it. The fire -crackled, and the smoke ascended like the dull vapor from a -volcano but still no prisoner fell down, as they expected. -The fact was, that Andrea, at war with society ever since -his youth, was quite as deep as a gendarme, even though he -were advanced to the rank of brigadier, and quite prepared -for the fire, he had climbed out on the roof and was -crouching down against the chimneypots. At one time he -thought he was saved, for he heard the brigadier exclaim in -a loud voice, to the two gendarmes, "He is not here" But -venturing to peep, he perceived that the latter, instead of -retiring, as might have been reasonably expected upon this -announcement, were watching with increased attention. -It was now his turn to look about him the Hotel de Ville, a -massive sixteenth century building, was on his right any -one could descend from the openings in the tower, and -examine every corner of the roof below, and Andrea expected -momentarily to see the head of a gendarme appear at one of -these openings. If once discovered, he knew he would be -lost, for the roof afforded no chance of escape he -therefore resolved to descend, not through the same chimney -by which he had come up, but by a similar one conducting to -another room. He looked around for a chimney from which no -smoke issued, and having reached it, he disappeared through -the orifice without being seen by any one. At the same -minute, one of the little windows of the Hotel de Ville was -thrown open, and the head of a gendarme appeared. For an -instant it remained motionless as one of the stone -decorations of the building, then after a long sigh of -disappointment the head disappeared. The brigadier, calm and -dignified as the law he represented, passed through the -crowd, without answering the thousand questions addressed to -him, and reentered the hotel. -"Well?" asked the two gendarmes. -"Well, my boys," said the brigadier, "the brigand must -really have escaped early this morning but we will send to -the VillersCoterets and Noyon roads, and search the forest, -when we shall catch him, no doubt." The honorable -functionary had scarcely expressed himself thus, in that -intonation which is peculiar to brigadiers of the -gendarmerie, when a loud scream, accompanied by the violent -ringing of a bell, resounded through the court of the hotel. -"Ah, what is that?" cried the brigadier. -"Some traveller seems impatient," said the host. "What -number was it that rang?" -"Number ." -"Run, waiter" At this moment the screams and ringing were -redoubled. "Ah," said the brigadier, stopping the servant, -"the person who is ringing appears to want something more -than a waiter we will attend upon him with a gendarme. Who -occupies Number ?" -"The little fellow who arrived last night in a postchaise -with his sister, and who asked for an apartment with two -beds." The bell here rang for the third time, with another -shriek of anguish. -"Follow me, Mr. Commissary" said the brigadier "tread in -my steps." -"Wait an instant," said the host "Number has two -staircases, inside and outside." -"Good," said the brigadier. "I will take charge of the -inside one. Are the carbines loaded?" -"Yes, brigadier." -"Well, you guard the exterior, and if he attempts to fly, -fire upon him he must be a great criminal, from what the -telegraph says." -The brigadier, followed by the commissary, disappeared by -the inside staircase, accompanied by the noise which his -assertions respecting Andrea had excited in the crowd. This -is what had happened. Andrea had very cleverly managed to -descend twothirds of the chimney, but then his foot -slipped, and notwithstanding his endeavors, he came into the -room with more speed and noise than he intended. It would -have signified little had the room been empty, but -unfortunately it was occupied. Two ladies, sleeping in one -bed, were awakened by the noise, and fixing their eyes upon -the spot whence the sound proceeded, they saw a man. One of -these ladies, the fair one, uttered those terrible shrieks -which resounded through the house, while the other, rushing -to the bellrope, rang with all her strength. Andrea, as we -can see, was surrounded by misfortune. -"For pity's sake," he cried, pale and bewildered, without -seeing whom he was addressing, "for pity's sake do not -call assistance Save me I will not harm you." -"Andrea, the murderer" cried one of the ladies. -"Eugenie Mademoiselle Danglars" exclaimed Andrea, -stupefied. -"Help, help" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, taking the bell -from her companion's hand, and ringing it yet more -violently. "Save me, I am pursued" said Andrea, clasping -his hands. "For pity, for mercy's sake do not deliver me -up" -"It is too late, they are coming," said Eugenie. -"Well, conceal me somewhere you can say you were needlessly -alarmed you can turn their suspicions and save my life" -The two ladies, pressing closely to one another, and drawing -the bedclothes tightly around them, remained silent to this -supplicating voice, repugnance and fear taking possession of -their minds. -"Well, be it so," at length said Eugenie "return by the -same road you came, and we will say nothing about you, -unhappy wretch." -"Here he is, here he is" cried a voice from the landing -"here he is I see him" The brigadier had put his eye to -the keyhole, and had discovered Andrea in a posture of -entreaty. A violent blow from the butt end of the musket -burst open the lock, two more forced out the bolts, and the -broken door fell in. Andrea ran to the other door, leading -to the gallery, ready to rush out but he was stopped short, -and he stood with his body a little thrown back, pale, and -with the useless knife in his clinched hand. -"Fly, then" cried Mademoiselle d'Armilly, whose pity -returned as her fears diminished "fly" -"Or kill yourself" said Eugenie in a tone which a Vestal -in the amphitheatre would have used, when urging the -victorious gladiator to finish his vanquished adversary. -Andrea shuddered, and looked on the young girl with an -expression which proved how little he understood such -ferocious honor. "Kill myself?" he cried, throwing down his -knife "why should I do so?" -"Why, you said," answered Mademoiselle Danglars, "that you -would be condemned to die like the worst criminals." -"Bah," said Cavalcanti, crossing his arms, "one has -friends." -The brigadier advanced to him, sword in hand. "Come, come," -said Andrea, "sheathe your sword, my fine fellow there is -no occasion to make such a fuss, since I give myself up" -and he held out his hands to be manacled. The girls looked -with horror upon this shameful metamorphosis, the man of the -world shaking off his covering and appearing as a -galleyslave. Andrea turned towards them, and with an -impertinent smile asked, "Have you any message for your -father, Mademoiselle Danglars, for in all probability I -shall return to Paris?" -Eugenie covered her face with her hands. "Oh, ho" said -Andrea, "you need not be ashamed, even though you did post -after me. Was I not nearly your husband?" -And with this raillery Andrea went out, leaving the two -girls a prey to their own feelings of shame, and to the -comments of the crowd. An hour after they stepped into their -calash, both dressed in feminine attire. The gate of the -hotel had been closed to screen them from sight, but they -were forced, when the door was open, to pass through a -throng of curious glances and whispering voices. Eugenie -closed her eyes but though she could not see, she could -hear, and the sneers of the crowd reached her in the -carriage. "Oh, why is not the world a wilderness?" she -exclaimed, throwing herself into the arms of Mademoiselle -d'Armilly, her eyes sparkling with the same kind of rage -which made Nero wish that the Roman world had but one neck, -that he might sever it at a single blow. The next day they -stopped at the Hotel de Flandre, at Brussels. The same -evening Andrea was incarcerated in the Conciergerie. -Chapter -The Law. -We have seen how quietly Mademoiselle Danglars and -Mademoiselle d'Armilly accomplished their transformation and -flight the fact being that every one was too much occupied -in his or her own affairs to think of theirs. We will leave -the banker contemplating the enormous magnitude of his debt -before the phantom of bankruptcy, and follow the baroness, -who after being momentarily crushed under the weight of the -blow which had struck her, had gone to seek her usual -adviser, Lucien Debray. The baroness had looked forward to -this marriage as a means of ridding her of a guardianship -which, over a girl of Eugenie's character, could not fail to -be rather a troublesome undertaking for in the tacit -relations which maintain the bond of family union, the -mother, to maintain her ascendancy over her daughter, must -never fail to be a model of wisdom and a type of perfection. -Now, Madame Danglars feared Eugenie's sagacity and the -influence of Mademoiselle d'Armilly she had frequently -observed the contemptuous expression with which her daughter -looked upon Debray, an expression which seemed to imply -that she understood all her mother's amorous and pecuniary -relationships with the intimate secretary moreover, she saw -that Eugenie detested Debray, not only because he was a -source of dissension and scandal under the paternal roof, -but because she had at once classed him in that catalogue of -bipeds whom Plato endeavors to withdraw from the appellation -of men, and whom Diogenes designated as animals upon two -legs without feathers. -Unfortunately, in this world of ours, each person views -things through a certain medium, and so is prevented from -seeing in the same light as others, and Madame Danglars, -therefore, very much regretted that the marriage of Eugenie -had not taken place, not only because the match was good, -and likely to insure the happiness of her child, but because -it would also set her at liberty. She ran therefore to -Debray, who, after having like the rest of Paris witnessed -the contract scene and the scandal attending it, had retired -in haste to his club, where he was chatting with some -friends upon the events which served as a subject of -conversation for threefourths of that city known as the -capital of the world. -At the precise time when Madame Danglars, dressed in black -and concealed in a long veil, was ascending the stairs -leading to Debray's apartments, notwithstanding the -assurances of the concierge that the young man was not at -home, Debray was occupied in repelling the insinuations -of a friend, who tried to persuade him that after the -terrible scene which had just taken place he ought, as a -friend of the family, to marry Mademoiselle Danglars and her -two millions. Debray did not defend himself very warmly, for -the idea had sometimes crossed his mind still, when he -recollected the independent, proud spirit of Eugenie, he -positively rejected it as utterly impossible, though the -same thought again continually recurred and found a -restingplace in his heart. Tea, play, and the conversation, -which had become interesting during the discussion of such -serious affairs, lasted till one o'clock in the morning. -Meanwhile Madame Danglars, veiled and uneasy, awaited the -return of Debray in the little green room, seated between -two baskets of flowers, which she had that morning sent, and -which, it must be confessed, Debray had himself arranged and -watered with so much care that his absence was half excused -in the eyes of the poor woman. -At twenty minutes of twelve, Madame Danglars, tired of -waiting, returned home. Women of a certain grade are like -prosperous grisettes in one respect, they seldom return home -after twelve o'clock. The baroness returned to the hotel -with as much caution as Eugenie used in leaving it she ran -lightly upstairs, and with an aching heart entered her -apartment, contiguous, as we know, to that of Eugenie. She -was fearful of exciting any remark, and believed firmly in -her daughter's innocence and fidelity to the paternal roof. -She listened at Eugenie's door, and hearing no sound tried -to enter, but the bolts were in place. Madame Danglars then -concluded that the young girl had been overcome with the -terrible excitement of the evening, and had gone to bed and -to sleep. She called the maid and questioned her. -"Mademoiselle Eugenie," said the maid, "retired to her -apartment with Mademoiselle d'Armilly they then took tea -together, after which they desired me to leave, saying that -they needed me no longer." Since then the maid had been -below, and like every one else she thought the young ladies -were in their own room Madame Danglars, therefore, went to -bed without a shadow of suspicion, and began to muse over -the recent events. In proportion as her memory became -clearer, the occurrences of the evening were revealed in -their true light what she had taken for confusion was a -tumult what she had regarded as something distressing, was -in reality a disgrace. And then the baroness remembered that -she had felt no pity for poor Mercedes, who had been -afflicted with as severe a blow through her husband and son. -"Eugenie," she said to herself, "is lost, and so are we. The -affair, as it will be reported, will cover us with shame -for in a society such as ours satire inflicts a painful and -incurable wound. How fortunate that Eugenie is possessed of -that strange character which has so often made me tremble" -And her glance was turned towards heaven, where a mysterious -providence disposes all things, and out of a fault, nay, -even a vice, sometimes produces a blessing. And then her -thoughts, cleaving through space like a bird in the air, -rested on Cavalcanti. This Andrea was a wretch, a robber, an -assassin, and yet his manners showed the effects of a sort -of education, if not a complete one he had been presented -to the world with the appearance of an immense fortune, -supported by an honorable name. How could she extricate -herself from this labyrinth? To whom would she apply to help -her out of this painful situation? Debray, to whom she had -run, with the first instinct of a woman towards the man she -loves, and who yet betrays her, Debray could but give her -advice, she must apply to some one more powerful than he. -The baroness then thought of M. de Villefort. It was M. de -Villefort who had remorselessly brought misfortune into her -family, as though they had been strangers. But, no on -reflection, the procureur was not a merciless man and it -was not the magistrate, slave to his duties, but the friend, -the loyal friend, who roughly but firmly cut into the very -core of the corruption it was not the executioner, but the -surgeon, who wished to withdraw the honor of Danglars from -ignominious association with the disgraced young man they -had presented to the world as their soninlaw. And since -Villefort, the friend of Danglars, had acted in this way, no -one could suppose that he had been previously acquainted -with, or had lent himself to, any of Andrea's intrigues. -Villefort's conduct, therefore, upon reflection, appeared to -the baroness as if shaped for their mutual advantage. But -the inflexibility of the procureur should stop there she -would see him the next day, and if she could not make him -fail in his duties as a magistrate, she would, at least, -obtain all the indulgence he could allow. She would invoke -the past, recall old recollections she would supplicate him -by the remembrance of guilty, yet happy days. M. de -Villefort would stifle the affair he had only to turn his -eyes on one side, and allow Andrea to fly, and follow up the -crime under that shadow of guilt called contempt of court. -And after this reasoning she slept easily. -At nine o'clock next morning she arose, and without ringing -for her maid or giving the least sign of her activity, she -dressed herself in the same simple style as on the previous -night then running downstairs, she left the hotel, walked -to the Rue de Provence, called a cab, and drove to M. de -Villefort's house. For the last month this wretched house -had presented the gloomy appearance of a lazaretto infected -with the plague. Some of the apartments were closed within -and without the shutters were only opened to admit a -minute's air, showing the scared face of a footman, and -immediately afterwards the window would be closed, like a -gravestone falling on a sepulchre, and the neighbors would -say to each other in a low voice, "Will there be another -funeral today at the procureur's house?" Madame Danglars -involuntarily shuddered at the desolate aspect of the -mansion descending from the cab, she approached the door -with trembling knees, and rang the bell. Three times did the -bell ring with a dull, heavy sound, seeming to participate, -in the general sadness, before the concierge appeared and -peeped through the door, which he opened just wide enough to -allow his words to be heard. He saw a lady, a fashionable, -elegantly dressed lady, and yet the door remained almost -closed. -"Do you intend opening the door?" said the baroness. -"First, madame, who are you?" -"Who am I? You know me well enough." -"We no longer know any one, madame." -"You must be mad, my friend," said the baroness. -"Where do you come from?" -"Oh, this is too much" -"Madame, these are my orders excuse me. Your name?" -"The baroness Danglars you have seen me twenty times." -"Possibly, madame. And now, what do you want?" -"Oh, how extraordinary I shall complain to M. de Villefort -of the impertinence of his servants." -"Madame, this is precaution, not impertinence no one enters -here without an order from M. d'Avrigny, or without speaking -to the procureur." -"Well, I have business with the procureur." -"Is it pressing business?" -"You can imagine so, since I have not even brought my -carriage out yet. But enough of this here is my card, -take it to your master." -"Madame will await my return?" -"Yes go." The concierge closed the door, leaving Madame -Danglars in the street. She had not long to wait directly -afterwards the door was opened wide enough to admit her, and -when she had passed through, it was again shut. Without -losing sight of her for an instant, the concierge took a -whistle from his pocket as soon as they entered the court, -and blew it. The valet de chambre appeared on the -doorsteps. "You will excuse this poor fellow, madame," he -said, as he preceded the baroness, "but his orders are -precise, and M. de Villefort begged me to tell you that he -could not act otherwise." -In the court showing his merchandise, was a tradesman who -had been admitted with the same precautions. The baroness -ascended the steps she felt herself strongly infected with -the sadness which seemed to magnify her own, and still -guided by the valet de chambre, who never lost sight of her -for an instant, she was introduced to the magistrate's -study. Preoccupied as Madame Danglars had been with the -object of her visit, the treatment she had received from -these underlings appeared to her so insulting, that she -began by complaining of it. But Villefort, raising his head, -bowed down by grief, looked up at her with so sad a smile -that her complaints died upon her lips. "Forgive my -servants," he said, "for a terror I cannot blame them for -from being suspected they have become suspicious." -Madame Danglars had often heard of the terror to which the -magistrate alluded, but without the evidence of her own -eyesight she could never have believed that the sentiment -had been carried so far. "You too, then, are unhappy?" she -said. "Yes, madame," replied the magistrate. -"Then you pity me" -"Sincerely, madame." -"And you understand what brings me here?" -"You wish to speak to me about the circumstance which has -just happened?" -"Yes, sir, a fearful misfortune." -"You mean a mischance." -"A mischance?" repeated the baroness. -"Alas, madame," said the procureur with his imperturbable -calmness of manner, "I consider those alone misfortunes -which are irreparable." -"And do you suppose this will be forgotten?" -"Everything will be forgotten, madame," said Villefort. -"Your daughter will be married tomorrow, if not today -in a week, if not tomorrow and I do not think you can -regret the intended husband of your daughter." -Madame Danglars gazed on Villefort, stupefied to find him so -almost insultingly calm. "Am I come to a friend?" she asked -in a tone full of mournful dignity. "You know that you are, -madame," said Villefort, whose pale cheeks became slightly -flushed as he gave her the assurance. And truly this -assurance carried him back to different events from those -now occupying the baroness and him. "Well, then, be more -affectionate, my dear Villefort," said the baroness. "Speak -to me not as a magistrate, but as a friend and when I am in -bitter anguish of spirit, do not tell me that I ought to be -gay." Villefort bowed. "When I hear misfortunes named, -madame," he said, "I have within the last few months -contracted the bad habit of thinking of my own, and then I -cannot help drawing up an egotistical parallel in my mind. -That is the reason that by the side of my misfortunes yours -appear to me mere mischances that is why my dreadful -position makes yours appear enviable. But this annoys you -let us change the subject. You were saying, madame" -"I came to ask you, my friend," said the baroness, "what -will be done with this impostor?" -"Impostor," repeated Villefort "certainly, madame, you -appear to extenuate some cases, and exaggerate others. -Impostor, indeed M. Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather M. -Benedetto, is nothing more nor less than an assassin" -"Sir, I do not deny the justice of your correction, but the -more severely you arm yourself against that unfortunate man, -the more deeply will you strike our family. Come, forget him -for a moment, and instead of pursuing him let him go." -"You are too late, madame the orders are issued." -"Well, should he be arrested do they think they will -arrest him?" -"I hope so." -"If they should arrest him I know that sometimes prisoners -afford means of escape, will you leave him in prison?" -The procureur shook his head. "At least keep him there till -my daughter be married." -"Impossible, madame justice has its formalities." -"What, even for me?" said the baroness, half jesting, half -in earnest. "For all, even for myself among the rest," -replied Villefort. -"Ah," exclaimed the baroness, without expressing the ideas -which the exclamation betrayed. Villefort looked at her with -that piercing glance which reads the secrets of the heart. -"Yes, I know what you mean," he said "you refer to the -terrible rumors spread abroad in the world, that the deaths -which have kept me in mourning for the last three months, -and from which Valentine has only escaped by a miracle, have -not happened by natural means." -"I was not thinking of that," replied Madame Danglars -quickly. "Yes, you were thinking of it, and with justice. -You could not help thinking of it, and saying to yourself, -"you, who pursue crime so vindictively, answer now, why are -there unpunished crimes in your dwelling?'" The baroness -became pale. "You were saying this, were you not?" -"Well, I own it." -"I will answer you." -Villefort drew his armchair nearer to Madame Danglars then -resting both hands upon his desk he said in a voice more -hollow than usual "There are crimes which remain unpunished -because the criminals are unknown, and we might strike the -innocent instead of the guilty but when the culprits are -discovered" Villefort here extended his hand toward a large -crucifix placed opposite to his desk "when they are -discovered, I swear to you, by all I hold most sacred, that -whoever they may be they shall die. Now, after the oath I -have just taken, and which I will keep, madame, dare you ask -for mercy for that wretch" -"But, sir, are you sure he is as guilty as they say?" -"Listen this is his description "Benedetto, condemned, at -the age of sixteen, for five years to the galleys for -forgery.' He promised well, as you see first a runaway, -then an assassin." -"And who is this wretch?" -"Who can tell? a vagabond, a Corsican." -"Has no one owned him?" -"No one his parents are unknown." -"But who was the man who brought him from Lucca?" -"Another rascal like himself, perhaps his accomplice." The -baroness clasped her hands. "Villefort," she exclaimed in -her softest and most captivating manner. -"For heaven's sake, madame," said Villefort, with a firmness -of expression not altogether free from harshness "for -heaven's sake, do not ask pardon of me for a guilty wretch -What am I? the law. Has the law any eyes to witness your -grief? Has the law ears to be melted by your sweet voice? -Has the law a memory for all those soft recollections you -endeavor to recall? No, madame the law has commanded, and -when it commands it strikes. You will tell me that I am a -living being, and not a code a man, and not a volume. -Look at me, madame look around me. Have mankind treated -me as a brother? Have they loved me? Have they spared me? -Has any one shown the mercy towards me that you now ask at -my hands? No, madame, they struck me, always struck me -"Woman, siren that you are, do you persist in fixing on me -that fascinating eye, which reminds me that I ought to -blush? Well, be it so let me blush for the faults you know, -and perhaps perhaps for even more than those But having -sinned myself, it may be more deeply than others, I -never rest till I have torn the disguises from my -fellowcreatures, and found out their weaknesses. I have -always found them and more, I repeat it with joy, with -triumph, I have always found some proof of human -perversity or error. Every criminal I condemn seems to me -living evidence that I am not a hideous exception to the -rest. Alas, alas, alas all the world is wicked let us -therefore strike at wickedness" -Villefort pronounced these last words with a feverish rage, -which gave a ferocious eloquence to his words. -"But"' said Madame Danglars, resolving to make a last -effort, "this young man, though a murderer, is an orphan, -abandoned by everybody." -"So much the worse, or rather, so much the better it has -been so ordained that he may have none to weep his fate." -"But this is trampling on the weak, sir." -"The weakness of a murderer" -"His dishonor reflects upon us." -"Is not death in my house?" -"Oh, sir," exclaimed the baroness, "you are without pity for -others, well, then, I tell you they will have no mercy on -you" -"Be it so" said Villefort, raising his arms to heaven. -"At least, delay the trial till the next assizes we shall -then have six months before us." -"No, madame," said Villefort "instructions have been given. -There are yet five days left five days are more than I -require. Do you not think that I also long for -forgetfulness? While working night and day, I sometimes lose -all recollection of the past, and then I experience the same -sort of happiness I can imagine the dead feel still, it is -better than suffering." -"But, sir, he has fled let him escape inaction is a -pardonable offence." -"I tell you it is too late early this morning the telegraph -was employed, and at this very minute" -"Sir," said the valet de chambre, entering the room, "a -dragoon has brought this despatch from the minister of the -interior." Villefort seized the letter, and hastily broke -the seal. Madame Danglars trembled with fear Villefort -started with joy. "Arrested" he exclaimed "he was taken at -Compiegne, and all is over." Madame Danglars rose from her -seat, pale and cold. "Adieu, sir," she said. "Adieu, -madame," replied the king's attorney, as in an almost joyful -manner he conducted her to the door. Then, turning to his -desk, he said, striking the letter with the back of his -right hand, "Come, I had a forgery, three robberies, and two -cases of arson, I only wanted a murder, and here it is. It -will be a splendid session" -Chapter -The Apparition. -As the procureur had told Madame Danglars, Valentine was not -yet recovered. Bowed down with fatigue, she was indeed -confined to her bed and it was in her own room, and from -the lips of Madame de Villefort, that she heard all the -strange events we have related, we mean the flight of -Eugenie and the arrest of Andrea Cavalcanti, or rather -Benedetto, together with the accusation of murder pronounced -against him. But Valentine was so weak that this recital -scarcely produced the same effect it would have done had she -been in her usual state of health. Indeed, her brain was -only the seat of vague ideas, and confused forms, mingled -with strange fancies, alone presented themselves before her -eyes. -During the daytime Valentine's perceptions remained -tolerably clear, owing to the constant presence of M. -Noirtier, who caused himself to be carried to his -granddaughter's room, and watched her with his paternal -tenderness Villefort also, on his return from the law -courts, frequently passed an hour or two with his father and -child. At six o'clock Villefort retired to his study, at -eight M. d'Avrigny himself arrived, bringing the night -draught prepared for the young girl, and then M. Noirtier -was carried away. A nurse of the doctor's choice succeeded -them, and never left till about ten or eleven o'clock, when -Valentine was asleep. As she went downstairs she gave the -keys of Valentine's room to M. de Villefort, so that no one -could reach the sickroom excepting through that of Madame -de Villefort and little Edward. -Every morning Morrel called on Noirtier to receive news of -Valentine, and, extraordinary as it seemed, each day found -him less uneasy. Certainly, though Valentine still labored -under dreadful nervous excitement, she was better and -moreover, Monte Cristo had told him when, half distracted, -he had rushed to the count's house, that if she were not -dead in two hours she would be saved. Now four days had -elapsed, and Valentine still lived. -The nervous excitement of which we speak pursued Valentine -even in her sleep, or rather in that state of somnolence -which succeeded her waking hours it was then, in the -silence of night, in the dim light shed from the alabaster -lamp on the chimneypiece, that she saw the shadows pass and -repass which hover over the bed of sickness, and fan the -fever with their trembling wings. First she fancied she saw -her stepmother threatening her, then Morrel stretched his -arms towards her sometimes mere strangers, like the Count -of Monte Cristo came to visit her even the very furniture, -in these moments of delirium, seemed to move, and this state -lasted till about three o'clock in the morning, when a deep, -heavy slumber overcame the young girl, from which she did -not awake till daylight. On the evening of the day on which -Valentine had learned of the flight of Eugenie and the -arrest of Benedetto, Villefort having retired as well as -Noirtier and d'Avrigny, her thoughts wandered in a -confused maze, alternately reviewing her own situation and -the events she had just heard. -Eleven o'clock had struck. The nurse, having placed the -beverage prepared by the doctor within reach of the patient, -and locked the door, was listening with terror to the -comments of the servants in the kitchen, and storing her -memory with all the horrible stories which had for some -months past amused the occupants of the antechambers in the -house of the king's attorney. Meanwhile an unexpected scene -was passing in the room which had been so carefully locked. -Ten minutes had elapsed since the nurse had left Valentine, -who for the last hour had been suffering from the fever -which returned nightly, incapable of controlling her ideas, -was forced to yield to the excitement which exhausted itself -in producing and reproducing a succession and recurrence of -the same fancies and images. The nightlamp threw out -countless rays, each resolving itself into some strange form -to her disordered imagination, when suddenly by its -flickering light Valentine thought she saw the door of her -library, which was in the recess by the chimneypiece, open -slowly, though she in vain listened for the sound of the -hinges on which it turned. -At any other time Valentine would have seized the silken -bellpull and summoned assistance, but nothing astonished -her in her present situation. Her reason told her that all -the visions she beheld were but the children of her -imagination, and the conviction was strengthened by the fact -that in the morning no traces remained of the nocturnal -phantoms, who disappeared with the coming of daylight. From -behind the door a human figure appeared, but the girl was -too familiar with such apparitions to be alarmed, and -therefore only stared, hoping to recognize Morrel. The -figure advanced towards the bed and appeared to listen with -profound attention. At this moment a ray of light glanced -across the face of the midnight visitor. -"It is not he," she murmured, and waited, in the assurance -that this was but a dream, for the man to disappear or -assume some other form. Still, she felt her pulse, and -finding it throb violently she remembered that the best -method of dispelling such illusions was to drink, for a -draught of the beverage prepared by the doctor to allay her -fever seemed to cause a reaction of the brain, and for a -short time she suffered less. Valentine therefore reached -her hand towards the glass, but as soon as her trembling arm -left the bed the apparition advanced more quickly towards -her, and approached the young girl so closely that she -fancied she heard his breath, and felt the pressure of his -hand. -This time the illusion, or rather the reality, surpassed -anything Valentine had before experienced she began to -believe herself really alive and awake, and the belief that -her reason was this time not deceived made her shudder. The -pressure she felt was evidently intended to arrest her arm, -and she slowly withdrew it. Then the figure, from whom she -could not detach her eyes, and who appeared more protecting -than menacing, took the glass, and walking towards the -nightlight held it up, as if to test its transparency. This -did not seem sufficient the man, or rather the ghost for -he trod so softly that no sound was heard then poured out -about a spoonful into the glass, and drank it. Valentine -witnessed this scene with a sentiment of stupefaction. Every -minute she had expected that it would vanish and give place -to another vision but the man, instead of dissolving like a -shadow, again approached her, and said in an agitated voice, -"Now you may drink." -Valentine shuddered. It was the first time one of these -visions had ever addressed her in a living voice, and she -was about to utter an exclamation. The man placed his finger -on her lips. "The Count of Monte Cristo" she murmured. -It was easy to see that no doubt now remained in the young -girl's mind as to the reality of the scene her eyes started -with terror, her hands trembled, and she rapidly drew the -bedclothes closer to her. Still, the presence of Monte -Cristo at such an hour, his mysterious, fanciful, and -extraordinary entrance into her room through the wall, might -well seem impossibilities to her shattered reason. "Do not -call any one do not be alarmed," said the Count "do not -let a shade of suspicion or uneasiness remain in your -breast the man standing before you, Valentine for this -time it is no ghost, is nothing more than the tenderest -father and the most respectful friend you could dream of." -Valentine could not reply the voice which indicated the -real presence of a being in the room, alarmed her so much -that she feared to utter a syllable still the expression of -her eyes seemed to inquire, "If your intentions are pure, -why are you here?" The count's marvellous sagacity -understood all that was passing in the young girl's mind. -"Listen to me," he said, "or, rather, look upon me look at -my face, paler even than usual, and my eyes, red with -weariness for four days I have not closed them, for I -have been constantly watching you, to protect and preserve -you for Maximilian." The blood mounted rapidly to the cheeks -of Valentine, for the name just announced by the count -dispelled all the fear with which his presence had inspired -her. "Maximilian" she exclaimed, and so sweet did the sound -appear to her, that she repeated it "Maximilian has -he then owned all to you?" -"Everything. He told me your life was his, and I have -promised him that you shall live." -"You have promised him that I shall live?" -"Yes." -"But, sir, you spoke of vigilance and protection. Are you a -doctor?" -"Yes the best you could have at the present time, believe -me." -"But you say you have watched?" said Valentine uneasily -"where have you been? I have not seen you." The count -extended his hand towards the library. "I was hidden behind -that door," he said, "which leads into the next house, which -I have rented." Valentine turned her eyes away, and, with an -indignant expression of pride and modest fear, exclaimed -"Sir, I think you have been guilty of an unparalleled -intrusion, and that what you call protection is more like an -insult." -"Valentine," he answered, "during my long watch over you, -all I have observed has been what people visited you, what -nourishment was prepared, and what beverage was served -then, when the latter appeared dangerous to me, I entered, -as I have now done, and substituted, in the place of the -poison, a healthful draught which, instead of producing the -death intended, caused life to circulate in your veins." -"Poison death" exclaimed Valentine, half believing -herself under the influence of some feverish hallucination -"what are you saying, sir?" -"Hush, my child," said Monte Cristo, again placing his -finger upon her lips, "I did say poison and death. But drink -some of this" and the count took a bottle from his pocket, -containing a red liquid, of which he poured a few drops into -the glass. "Drink this, and then take nothing more -tonight." Valentine stretched out her hand, but scarcely -had she touched the glass when she drew back in fear. Monte -Cristo took the glass, drank half its contents, and then -presented it to Valentine, who smiled and swallowed the -rest. "Oh, yes," she exclaimed, "I recognize the flavor of -my nocturnal beverage which refreshed me so much, and seemed -to ease my aching brain. Thank you, sir, thank you" -"This is how you have lived during the last four nights, -Valentine," said the count. "But, oh, how I passed that -time Oh, the wretched hours I have endured the torture -to which I have submitted when I saw the deadly poison -poured into your glass, and how I trembled lest you should -drink it before I could find time to throw it away" -"Sir," said Valentine, at the height of her terror, "you say -you endured tortures when you saw the deadly poison poured -into my glass but if you saw this, you must also have seen -the person who poured it?" -"Yes." Valentine raised herself in bed, and drew over her -chest, which appeared whiter than snow, the embroidered -cambric, still moist with the cold dews of delirium, to -which were now added those of terror. "You saw the person?" -repeated the young girl. "Yes," repeated the count. -"What you tell me is horrible, sir. You wish to make me -believe something too dreadful. What? attempt to murder -me in my father's house, in my room, on my bed of sickness? -Oh, leave me, sir you are tempting me you make me doubt -the goodness of providence it is impossible, it cannot -be" -"Are you the first that this hand has stricken? Have you not -seen M. de SaintMeran, Madame de SaintMeran, Barrois, all -fall? would not M. Noirtier also have fallen a victim, had -not the treatment he has been pursuing for the last three -years neutralized the effects of the poison?" -"Oh, heaven," said Valentine "is this the reason why -grandpapa has made me share all his beverages during the -last month?" -"And have they all tasted of a slightly bitter flavor, like -that of dried orangepeel?" -"Oh, yes, yes" -"Then that explains all," said Monte Cristo. "Your -grandfather knows, then, that a poisoner lives here perhaps -he even suspects the person. He has been fortifying you, his -beloved child, against the fatal effects of the poison, -which has failed because your system was already impregnated -with it. But even this would have availed little against a -more deadly medium of death employed four days ago, which is -generally but too fatal." -"But who, then, is this assassin, this murderer?" -"Let me also ask you a question. Have you never seen any one -enter your room at night?" -"Oh, yes I have frequently seen shadows pass close to me, -approach, and disappear but I took them for visions raised -by my feverish imagination, and indeed when you entered I -thought I was under the influence of delirium." -"Then you do not know who it is that attempts your life?" -"No," said Valentine "who could desire my death?" -"You shall know it now, then," said Monte Cristo, listening. -"How do you mean?" said Valentine, looking anxiously around. -"Because you are not feverish or delirious tonight, but -thoroughly awake midnight is striking, which is the hour -murderers choose." -"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, wiping off the drops -which ran down her forehead. Midnight struck slowly and -sadly every hour seemed to strike with leaden weight upon -the heart of the poor girl. "Valentine," said the count, -"summon up all your courage still the beatings of your -heart do not let a sound escape you, and feign to be -asleep then you will see." Valentine seized the count's -hand. "I think I hear a noise," she said "leave me." -"Goodby, for the present," replied the count, walking upon -tiptoe towards the library door, and smiling with an -expression so sad and paternal that the young girl's heart -was filled with gratitude. Before closing the door he turned -around once more, and said, "Not a movement not a word -let them think you asleep, or perhaps you may be killed -before I have the power of helping you." And with this -fearful injunction the count disappeared through the door, -which noiselessly closed after him. -Chapter -Locusta. -Valentine was alone two other clocks, slower than that of -SaintPhilippe du Roule, struck the hour of midnight from -different directions, and excepting the rumbling of a few -carriages all was silent. Then Valentine's attention was -engrossed by the clock in her room, which marked the -seconds. She began counting them, remarking that they were -much slower than the beatings of her heart and still she -doubted, the inoffensive Valentine could not imagine that -any one should desire her death. Why should they? To what -end? What had she done to excite the malice of an enemy? -There was no fear of her falling asleep. One terrible idea -pressed upon her mind, that some one existed in the world -who had attempted to assassinate her, and who was about to -endeavor to do so again. Supposing this person, wearied at -the inefficacy of the poison, should, as Monte Cristo -intimated, have recourse to steel What if the count -should have no time to run to her rescue What if her -last moments were approaching, and she should never again -see Morrel When this terrible chain of ideas presented -itself, Valentine was nearly persuaded to ring the bell, and -call for help. But through the door she fancied she saw the -luminous eye of the count that eye which lived in her -memory, and the recollection overwhelmed her with so much -shame that she asked herself whether any amount of gratitude -could ever repay his adventurous and devoted friendship. -Twenty minutes, twenty tedious minutes, passed thus, then -ten more, and at last the clock struck the halfhour. Just -then the sound of fingernails slightly grating against the -door of the library informed Valentine that the count was -still watching, and recommended her to do the same at the -same time, on the opposite side, that is towards Edward's -room, Valentine fancied that she heard the creaking of the -floor she listened attentively, holding her breath till she -was nearly suffocated the lock turned, and the door slowly -opened. Valentine had raised herself upon her elbow, and had -scarcely time to throw herself down on the bed and shade her -eyes with her arm then, trembling, agitated, and her heart -beating with indescribable terror, she awaited the event. -Some one approached the bed and drew back the curtains. -Valentine summoned every effort, and breathed with that -regular respiration which announces tranquil sleep. -"Valentine" said a low voice. Still silent Valentine had -promised not to awake. Then everything was still, excepting -that Valentine heard the almost noiseless sound of some -liquid being poured into the glass she had just emptied. -Then she ventured to open her eyelids, and glance over her -extended arm. She saw a woman in a white dressinggown -pouring a liquor from a phial into her glass. During this -short time Valentine must have held her breath, or moved in -some slight degree, for the woman, disturbed, stopped and -leaned over the bed, in order the better to ascertain -whether Valentine slept it was Madame de Villefort. -On recognizing her stepmother, Valentine could not repress -a shudder, which caused a vibration in the bed. Madame de -Villefort instantly stepped back close to the wall, and -there, shaded by the bedcurtains, she silently and -attentively watched the slightest movement of Valentine. The -latter recollected the terrible caution of Monte Cristo she -fancied that the hand not holding the phial clasped a long -sharp knife. Then collecting all her remaining strength, she -forced herself to close her eyes but this simple operation -upon the most delicate organs of our frame, generally so -easy to accomplish, became almost impossible at this moment, -so much did curiosity struggle to retain the eyelid open and -learn the truth. Madame de Villefort, however, reassured by -the silence, which was alone disturbed by the regular -breathing of Valentine, again extended her hand, and half -hidden by the curtains succeeded in emptying the contents of -the phial into the glass. Then she retired so gently that -Valentine did not know she had left the room. She only -witnessed the withdrawal of the arm the fair round arm of -a woman but twentyfive years old, and who yet spread death -around her. -It is impossible to describe the sensations experienced by -Valentine during the minute and a half Madame de Villefort -remained in the room. The grating against the librarydoor -aroused the young girl from the stupor in which she was -plunged, and which almost amounted to insensibility. She -raised her head with an effort. The noiseless door again -turned on its hinges, and the Count of Monte Cristo -reappeared. "Well," said he, "do you still doubt?" -"Oh," murmured the young girl. -"Have you seen?" -"Alas" -"Did you recognize?" Valentine groaned. "Oh, yes" she said, -"I saw, but I cannot believe" -"Would you rather die, then, and cause Maximilian's death?" -"Oh," repeated the young girl, almost bewildered, "can I not -leave the house? can I not escape?" -"Valentine, the hand which now threatens you will pursue you -everywhere your servants will be seduced with gold, and -death will be offered to you disguised in every shape. You -will find it in the water you drink from the spring, in the -fruit you pluck from the tree." -"But did you not say that my kind grandfather's precaution -had neutralized the poison?" -"Yes, but not against a strong dose the poison will be -changed, and the quantity increased." He took the glass and -raised it to his lips. "It is already done," he said -"brucine is no longer employed, but a simple narcotic I can -recognize the flavor of the alcohol in which it has been -dissolved. If you had taken what Madame de Villefort has -poured into your glass, Valentine Valentine you would -have been doomed" -"But," exclaimed the young girl, "why am I thus pursued?" -"Why? are you so kind so good so unsuspicious of -ill, that you cannot understand, Valentine?" -"No, I have never injured her." -"But you are rich, Valentine you have , livres a -year, and you prevent her son from enjoying these , -livres." -"How so? The fortune is not her gift, but is inherited from -my relations." -"Certainly and that is why M. and Madame de SaintMeran -have died that is why M. Noirtier was sentenced the day he -made you his heir that is why you, in your turn, are to die -it is because your father would inherit your property, -and your brother, his only son, succeed to his." -"Edward? Poor child Are all these crimes committed on his -account?" -"Ah, then you at length understand?" -"Heaven grant that this may not be visited upon him" -"Valentine, you are an angel" -"But why is my grandfather allowed to live?" -"It was considered, that you dead, the fortune would -naturally revert to your brother, unless he were -disinherited and besides, the crime appearing useless, it -would be folly to commit it." -"And is it possible that this frightful combination of -crimes has been invented by a woman?" -"Do you recollect in the arbor of the Hotel des Postes, at -Perugia, seeing a man in a brown cloak, whom your stepmother -was questioning upon aqua tofana? Well, ever since then, the -infernal project has been ripening in her brain." -"Ah, then, indeed, sir," said the sweet girl, bathed in -tears, "I see that I am condemned to die" -"No, Valentine, for I have foreseen all their plots no, -your enemy is conquered since we know her, and you will -live, Valentine live to be happy yourself, and to confer -happiness upon a noble heart but to insure this you must -rely on me." -"Command me, sir what am I to do?" -"You must blindly take what I give you." -"Alas, were it only for my own sake, I should prefer to -die" -"You must not confide in any one not even in your -father." -"My father is not engaged in this fearful plot, is he, sir?" -asked Valentine, clasping her hands. -"No and yet your father, a man accustomed to judicial -accusations, ought to have known that all these deaths have -not happened naturally it is he who should have watched -over you he should have occupied my place he should -have emptied that glass he should have risen against the -assassin. Spectre against spectre" he murmured in a low -voice, as he concluded his sentence. -"Sir," said Valentine, "I will do all I can to live, for -there are two beings whose existence depends upon mine my -grandfather and Maximilian." -"I will watch over them as I have over you." -"Well, sir, do as you will with me" and then she added, in -a low voice, "oh, heavens, what will befall me?" -"Whatever may happen, Valentine, do not be alarmed though -you suffer though you lose sight, hearing, consciousness, -fear nothing though you should awake and be ignorant where -you are, still do not fear even though you should find -yourself in a sepulchral vault or coffin. Reassure yourself, -then, and say to yourself "At this moment, a friend, a -father, who lives for my happiness and that of Maximilian, -watches over me'" -"Alas, alas, what a fearful extremity" -"Valentine, would you rather denounce your stepmother?" -"I would rather die a hundred times oh, yes, die" -"No, you will not die but will you promise me, whatever -happens, that you will not complain, but hope?" -"I will think of Maximilian" -"You are my own darling child, Valentine I alone can save -you, and I will." Valentine in the extremity of her terror -joined her hands, for she felt that the moment had -arrived to ask for courage, and began to pray, and while -uttering little more than incoherent words, she forgot that -her white shoulders had no other covering than her long -hair, and that the pulsations of her heart could be seen -through the lace of her nightdress. Monte Cristo gently laid -his hand on the young girl's arm, drew the velvet coverlet -close to her throat, and said with a paternal smile, "My -child, believe in my devotion to you as you believe in the -goodness of providence and the love of Maximilian." -Then he drew from his waistcoatpocket the little emerald -box, raised the golden lid, and took from it a pastille -about the size of a pea, which he placed in her hand. She -took it, and looked attentively on the count there was an -expression on the face of her intrepid protector which -commanded her veneration. She evidently interrogated him by -her look. "Yes," said he. Valentine carried the pastille to -her mouth, and swallowed it. "And now, my dear child, adieu -for the present. I will try and gain a little sleep, for you -are saved." -"Go," said Valentine, "whatever happens, I promise you not -to fear." -Monte Cristo for some time kept his eyes fixed on the young -girl, who gradually fell asleep, yielding to the effects of -the narcotic the count had given her. Then he took the -glass, emptied three parts of the contents in the fireplace, -that it might be supposed Valentine had taken it, and -replaced it on the table then he disappeared, after -throwing a farewell glance on Valentine, who slept with the -confidence and innocence of an angel. -Chapter -Valentine. -The nightlight continued to burn on the chimneypiece, -exhausting the last drops of oil which floated on the -surface of the water. The globe of the lamp appeared of a -reddish hue, and the flame, brightening before it expired, -threw out the last flickerings which in an inanimate object -have been so often compared with the convulsions of a human -creature in its final agonies. A dull and dismal light was -shed over the bedclothes and curtains surrounding the young -girl. All noise in the streets had ceased, and the silence -was frightful. It was then that the door of Edward's room -opened, and a head we have before noticed appeared in the -glass opposite it was Madame de Villefort, who came to -witness the effects of the drink she had prepared. She -stopped in the doorway, listened for a moment to the -flickering of the lamp, the only sound in that deserted -room, and then advanced to the table to see if Valentine's -glass were empty. It was still about a quarter full, as we -before stated. Madame de Villefort emptied the contents into -the ashes, which she disturbed that they might the more -readily absorb the liquid then she carefully rinsed the -glass, and wiping it with her handkerchief replaced it on -the table. -If any one could have looked into the room just then he -would have noticed the hesitation with which Madame de -Villefort approached the bed and looked fixedly on -Valentine. The dim light, the profound silence, and the -gloomy thoughts inspired by the hour, and still more by her -own conscience, all combined to produce a sensation of fear -the poisoner was terrified at the contemplation of her own -work. At length she rallied, drew aside the curtain, and -leaning over the pillow gazed intently on Valentine. The -young girl no longer breathed, no breath issued through the -halfclosed teeth the white lips no longer quivered the -eyes were suffused with a bluish vapor, and the long black -lashes rested on a cheek white as wax. Madame de Villefort -gazed upon the face so expressive even in its stillness -then she ventured to raise the coverlet and press her hand -upon the young girl's heart. It was cold and motionless. She -only felt the pulsation in her own fingers, and withdrew her -hand with a shudder. One arm was hanging out of the bed -from shoulder to elbow it was moulded after the arms of -Germain Pillon's "Graces," but the forearm seemed to be -slightly distorted by convulsion, and the hand, so -delicately formed, was resting with stiff outstretched -fingers on the framework of the bed. The nails, too, were -turning blue. - Germain Pillon was a famous French sculptor . -His best known work is "The Three Graces," now in the -Louvre. -Madame de Villefort had no longer any doubt all was over -she had consummated the last terrible work she had to -accomplish. There was no more to do in the room, so the -poisoner retired stealthily, as though fearing to hear the -sound of her own footsteps but as she withdrew she still -held aside the curtain, absorbed in the irresistible -attraction always exerted by the picture of death, so long -as it is merely mysterious and does not excite disgust. Just -then the lamp again flickered the noise startled Madame de -Villefort, who shuddered and dropped the curtain. -Immediately afterwards the light expired, and the room was -plunged in frightful obscurity, while the clock at that -minute struck halfpast four. Overpowered with agitation, -the poisoner succeeded in groping her way to the door, and -reached her room in an agony of fear. -The darkness lasted two hours longer then by degrees a cold -light crept through the Venetian blinds, until at length it -revealed the objects in the room. About this time the -nurse's cough was heard on the stairs and the woman entered -the room with a cup in her hand. To the tender eye of a -father or a lover, the first glance would have sufficed to -reveal Valentine's condition but to this hireling, -Valentine only appeared to sleep. "Good," she exclaimed, -approaching the table, "she has taken part of her draught -the glass is threequarters empty." -Then she went to the fireplace and lit the fire, and -although she had just left her bed, she could not resist the -temptation offered by Valentine's sleep, so she threw -herself into an armchair to snatch a little more rest. The -clock striking eight awoke her. Astonished at the prolonged -slumber of the patient, and frightened to see that the arm -was still hanging out of the bed, she advanced towards -Valentine, and for the first time noticed the white lips. -She tried to replace the arm, but it moved with a frightful -rigidity which could not deceive a sicknurse. She screamed -aloud then running to the door exclaimed, "Help, help" -"What is the matter?" asked M. d'Avrigny, at the foot of the -stairs, it being the hour he usually visited her. -"What is it?" asked Villefort, rushing from his room. -"Doctor, do you hear them call for help?" -"Yes, yes let us hasten up it was in Valentine's room." -But before the doctor and the father could reach the room, -the servants who were on the same floor had entered, and -seeing Valentine pale and motionless on her bed, they lifted -up their hands towards heaven and stood transfixed, as -though struck by lightening. "Call Madame de Villefort -wake Madame de Villefort" cried the procureur from the door -of his chamber, which apparently he scarcely dared to leave. -But instead of obeying him, the servants stood watching M. -d'Avrigny, who ran to Valentine, and raised her in his arms. -"What? this one, too?" he exclaimed. "Oh, where will be -the end?" Villefort rushed into the room. "What are you -saying, doctor?" he exclaimed, raising his hands to heaven. -"I say that Valentine is dead" replied d'Avrigny, in a -voice terrible in its solemn calm. -M. de Villefort staggered and buried his head in the bed. On -the exclamation of the doctor and the cry of the father, the -servants all fled with muttered imprecations they were -heard running down the stairs and through the long passages, -then there was a rush in the court, afterwards all was -still they had, one and all, deserted the accursed house. -Just then, Madame de Villefort, in the act of slipping on -her dressinggown, threw aside the drapery and for a moment -stood motionless, as though interrogating the occupants of -the room, while she endeavored to call up some rebellious -tears. On a sudden she stepped, or rather bounded, with -outstretched arms, towards the table. She saw d'Avrigny -curiously examining the glass, which she felt certain of -having emptied during the night. It was now a third full, -just as it was when she threw the contents into the ashes. -The spectre of Valentine rising before the poisoner would -have alarmed her less. It was, indeed, the same color as the -draught she had poured into the glass, and which Valentine -had drank it was indeed the poison, which could not deceive -M. d'Avrigny, which he now examined so closely it was -doubtless a miracle from heaven, that, notwithstanding her -precautions, there should be some trace, some proof -remaining to reveal the crime. While Madame de Villefort -remained rooted to the spot like a statue of terror, and -Villefort, with his head hidden in the bedclothes, saw -nothing around him, d'Avrigny approached the window, that he -might the better examine the contents of the glass, and -dipping the tip of his finger in, tasted it. "Ah," he -exclaimed, "it is no longer brucine that is used let me see -what it is" -Then he ran to one of the cupboards in Valentine's room, -which had been transformed into a medicine closet, and -taking from its silver case a small bottle of nitric acid, -dropped a little of it into the liquor, which immediately -changed to a bloodred color. "Ah," exclaimed d'Avrigny, in -a voice in which the horror of a judge unveiling the truth -was mingled with the delight of a student making a -discovery. Madame de Villefort was overpowered, her eyes -first flashed and then swam, she staggered towards the door -and disappeared. Directly afterwards the distant sound of a -heavy weight falling on the ground was heard, but no one -paid any attention to it the nurse was engaged in watching -the chemical analysis, and Villefort was still absorbed in -grief. M. d'Avrigny alone had followed Madame de Villefort -with his eyes, and watched her hurried retreat. He lifted up -the drapery over the entrance to Edward's room, and his eye -reaching as far as Madame de Villefort's apartment, he -beheld her extended lifeless on the floor. "Go to the -assistance of Madame de Villefort," he said to the nurse. -"Madame de Villefort is ill." -"But Mademoiselle de Villefort" stammered the nurse. -"Mademoiselle de Villefort no longer requires help," said -d'Avrigny, "since she is dead." -"Dead, dead" groaned forth Villefort, in a paroxysm of -grief, which was the more terrible from the novelty of the -sensation in the iron heart of that man. -"Dead" repeated a third voice. "Who said Valentine was -dead?" -The two men turned round, and saw Morrel standing at the -door, pale and terrorstricken. This is what had happened. -At the usual time, Morrel had presented himself at the -little door leading to Noirtier's room. Contrary to custom, -the door was open, and having no occasion to ring he -entered. He waited for a moment in the hall and called for a -servant to conduct him to M. Noirtier but no one answered, -the servants having, as we know, deserted the house. Morrel -had no particular reason for uneasiness Monte Cristo had -promised him that Valentine should live, and so far he had -always fulfilled his word. Every night the count had given -him news, which was the next morning confirmed by Noirtier. -Still this extraordinary silence appeared strange to him, -and he called a second and third time still no answer. Then -he determined to go up. Noirtier's room was opened, like all -the rest. The first thing he saw was the old man sitting in -his armchair in his usual place, but his eyes expressed -alarm, which was confirmed by the pallor which overspread -his features. -"How are you, sir?" asked Morrel, with a sickness of heart. -"Well," answered the old man, by closing his eyes but his -appearance manifested increasing uneasiness. -"You are thoughtful, sir," continued Morrel "you want -something shall I call one of the servants?" -"Yes," replied Noirtier. -Morrel pulled the bell, but though he nearly broke the cord -no one answered. He turned towards Noirtier the pallor and -anguish expressed on his countenance momentarily increased. -"Oh," exclaimed Morrel, "why do they not come? Is any one -ill in the house?" The eyes of Noirtier seemed as though -they would start from their sockets. "What is the matter? -You alarm me. Valentine? Valentine?" -"Yes, yes," signed Noirtier. Maximilian tried to speak, but -he could articulate nothing he staggered, and supported -himself against the wainscot. Then he pointed to the door. -"Yes, yes, yes" continued the old man. Maximilian rushed up -the little staircase, while Noirtier's eyes seemed to say, -"Quicker, quicker" -In a minute the young man darted through several rooms, till -at length he reached Valentine's. There was no occasion to -push the door, it was wide open. A sob was the only sound he -heard. He saw as though in a mist, a black figure kneeling -and buried in a confused mass of white drapery. A terrible -fear transfixed him. It was then he heard a voice exclaim -"Valentine is dead" and another voice which, like an echo -repeated, "Dead, dead" -Chapter -Maximilian. -Villefort rose, half ashamed of being surprised in such a -paroxysm of grief. The terrible office he had held for -twentyfive years had succeeded in making him more or less -than man. His glance, at first wandering, fixed itself upon -Morrel. "Who are you, sir," he asked, "that forget that this -is not the manner to enter a house stricken with death? Go, -sir, go" But Morrel remained motionless he could not -detach his eyes from that disordered bed, and the pale -corpse of the young girl who was lying on it. "Go do you -hear?" said Villefort, while d'Avrigny advanced to lead -Morrel out. Maximilian stared for a moment at the corpse, -gazed all around the room, then upon the two men he opened -his mouth to speak, but finding it impossible to give -utterance to the innumerable ideas that occupied his brain, -he went out, thrusting his hands through his hair in such a -manner that Villefort and d'Avrigny, for a moment diverted -from the engrossing topic, exchanged glances, which seemed -to say, "He is mad" -But in less than five minutes the staircase groaned beneath -an extraordinary weight. Morrel was seen carrying, with -superhuman strength, the armchair containing Noirtier -upstairs. When he reached the landing he placed the -armchair on the floor and rapidly rolled it into -Valentine's room. This could only have been accomplished by -means of unnatural strength supplied by powerful excitement. -But the most fearful spectacle was Noirtier being pushed -towards the bed, his face expressing all his meaning, and -his eyes supplying the want of every other faculty. That -pale face and flaming glance appeared to Villefort like a -frightful apparition. Each time he had been brought into -contact with his father, something terrible had happened. -"See what they have done" cried Morrel, with one hand -leaning on the back of the chair, and the other extended -towards Valentine. "See, my father, see" -Villefort drew back and looked with astonishment on the -young man, who, almost a stranger to him, called Noirtier -his father. At this moment the whole soul of the old man -seemed centred in his eyes which became bloodshot the veins -of the throat swelled his cheeks and temples became purple, -as though he was struck with epilepsy nothing was wanting -to complete this but the utterance of a cry. And the cry -issued from his pores, if we may thus speak a cry -frightful in its silence. D'Avrigny rushed towards the old -man and made him inhale a powerful restorative. -"Sir," cried Morrel, seizing the moist hand of the -paralytic, "they ask me who I am, and what right I have to -be here. Oh, you know it, tell them, tell them" And the -young man's voice was choked by sobs. As for the old man, -his chest heaved with his panting respiration. One could -have thought that he was undergoing the agonies preceding -death. At length, happier than the young man, who sobbed -without weeping, tears glistened in the eyes of Noirtier. -"Tell them," said Morrel in a hoarse voice, "tell them that -I am her betrothed. Tell them she was my beloved, my noble -girl, my only blessing in the world. Tell them oh, tell -them, that corpse belongs to me" -The young man overwhelmed by the weight of his anguish, fell -heavily on his knees before the bed, which his fingers -grasped with convulsive energy. D'Avrigny, unable to bear -the sight of this touching emotion, turned away and -Villefort, without seeking any further explanation, and -attracted towards him by the irresistible magnetism which -draws us towards those who have loved the people for whom we -mourn, extended his hand towards the young man. But Morrel -saw nothing he had grasped the hand of Valentine, and -unable to weep vented his agony in groans as he bit the -sheets. For some time nothing was heard in that chamber but -sobs, exclamations, and prayers. At length Villefort, the -most composed of all, spoke "Sir," said he to Maximilian, -"you say you loved Valentine, that you were betrothed to -her. I knew nothing of this engagement, of this love, yet I, -her father, forgive you, for I see that your grief is real -and deep and besides my own sorrow is too great for anger -to find a place in my heart. But you see that the angel whom -you hoped for has left this earth she has nothing more to -do with the adoration of men. Take a last farewell, sir, of -her sad remains take the hand you expected to possess once -more within your own, and then separate yourself from her -forever. Valentine now requires only the ministrations of -the priest." -"You are mistaken, sir," exclaimed Morrel, raising himself -on one knee, his heart pierced by a more acute pang than any -he had yet felt "you are mistaken Valentine, dying as -she has, not only requires a priest, but an avenger. You, M. -de Villefort, send for the priest I will be the avenger." -"What do you mean, sir?" asked Villefort, trembling at the -new idea inspired by the delirium of Morrel. -"I tell you, sir, that two persons exist in you the father -has mourned sufficiently, now let the procureur fulfil his -office." -The eyes of Noirtier glistened, and d'Avrigny approached. -"Gentlemen," said Morrel, reading all that passed through -the minds of the witnesses to the scene, "I know what I am -saying, and you know as well as I do what I am about to say -Valentine has been assassinated" Villefort hung his -head, d'Avrigny approached nearer, and Noirtier said "Yes" -with his eyes. "Now, sir," continued Morrel, "in these days -no one can disappear by violent means without some inquiries -being made as to the cause of her disappearance, even were -she not a young, beautiful, and adorable creature like -Valentine. Mr. Procureur," said Morrel with increasing -vehemence, "no mercy is allowed I denounce the crime it is -your place to seek the assassin." The young man's implacable -eyes interrogated Villefort, who, on his side, glanced from -Noirtier to d'Avrigny. But instead of finding sympathy in -the eyes of the doctor and his father, he only saw an -expression as inflexible as that of Maximilian. "Yes," -indicated the old man. -"Assuredly," said d'Avrigny. -"Sir," said Villefort, striving to struggle against this -triple force and his own emotion, "sir, you are deceived -no one commits crimes here. I am stricken by fate. It is -horrible, indeed, but no one assassinates." -The eyes of Noirtier lighted up with rage, and d'Avrigny -prepared to speak. Morrel, however, extended his arm, and -commanded silence. "And I say that murders are committed -here," said Morrel, whose voice, though lower in tone, lost -none of its terrible distinctness "I tell you that this is -the fourth victim within the last four months. I tell you, -Valentine's life was attempted by poison four days ago, -though she escaped, owing to the precautions of M. Noirtier. -I tell you that the dose has been double, the poison -changed, and that this time it has succeeded. I tell you -that you know these things as well as I do, since this -gentleman has forewarned you, both as a doctor and as a -friend." -"Oh, you rave, sir," exclaimed Villefort, in vain -endeavoring to escape the net in which he was taken. -"I rave?" said Morrel "well, then, I appeal to M. d'Avrigny -himself. Ask him, sir, if he recollects the words he uttered -in the garden of this house on the night of Madame de -SaintMeran's death. You thought yourselves alone, and -talked about that tragical death, and the fatality you -mentioned then is the same which has caused the murder of -Valentine." Villefort and d'Avrigny exchanged looks. "Yes, -yes," continued Morrel "recall the scene, for the words you -thought were only given to silence and solitude fell into my -ears. Certainly, after witnessing the culpable indolence -manifested by M. de Villefort towards his own relations, I -ought to have denounced him to the authorities then I -should not have been an accomplice to thy death, as I now -am, sweet, beloved Valentine but the accomplice shall -become the avenger. This fourth murder is apparent to all, -and if thy father abandon thee, Valentine, it is I, and I -swear it, that shall pursue the assassin." And this time, as -though nature had at least taken compassion on the vigorous -frame, nearly bursting with its own strength, the words of -Morrel were stifled in his throat his breast heaved the -tears, so long rebellious, gushed from his eyes and he -threw himself weeping on his knees by the side of the bed. -Then d'Avrigny spoke. "And I, too," he exclaimed in a low -voice, "I unite with M. Morrel in demanding justice for -crime my blood boils at the idea of having encouraged a -murderer by my cowardly concession." -"Oh, merciful heavens" murmured Villefort. Morrel raised -his head, and reading the eyes of the old man, which gleamed -with unnatural lustre, "Stay," he said, "M. Noirtier -wishes to speak." -"Yes," indicated Noirtier, with an expression the more -terrible, from all his faculties being centred in his -glance. -"Do you know the assassin?" asked Morrel. -"Yes," replied Noirtier. -"And will you direct us?" exclaimed the young man. "Listen, -M. d'Avrigny, listen" Noirtier looked upon Morrel with one -of those melancholy smiles which had so often made Valentine -happy, and thus fixed his attention. Then, having riveted -the eyes of his interlocutor on his own, he glanced towards -the door. -"Do you wish me to leave?" said Morrel, sadly. -"Yes," replied Noirtier. -"Alas, alas, sir, have pity on me" -The old man's eyes remained fixed on the door. -"May I, at least, return?" asked Morrel. -"Yes." -"Must I leave alone?" -"No." -"Whom am I to take with me? The procureur?" -"No." -"The doctor?" -"Yes." -"You wish to remain alone with M. de Villefort?" -"Yes." -"But can he understand you?" -"Yes." -"Oh," said Villefort, inexpressibly delighted to think that -the inquiries were to be made by him alone, "oh, be -satisfied, I can understand my father." D'Avrigny took the -young man's arm, and led him out of the room. A more than -deathlike silence then reigned in the house. At the end of a -quarter of an hour a faltering footstep was heard, and -Villefort appeared at the door of the apartment where -d'Avrigny and Morrel had been staying, one absorbed in -meditation, the other in grief. "You can come," he said, and -led them back to Noirtier. Morrel looked attentively on -Villefort. His face was livid, large drops rolled down his -face, and in his fingers he held the fragments of a quill -pen which he had torn to atoms. -"Gentlemen," he said in a hoarse voice, "give me your word -of honor that this horrible secret shall forever remain -buried amongst ourselves" The two men drew back. -"I entreat you." continued Villefort. -"But," said Morrel, "the culprit the murderer the -assassin." -"Do not alarm yourself, sir justice will be done," said -Villefort. "My father has revealed the culprit's name my -father thirsts for revenge as much as you do, yet even he -conjures you as I do to keep this secret. Do you not, -father?" -"Yes," resolutely replied Noirtier. Morrel suffered an -exclamation of horror and surprise to escape him. "Oh, sir," -said Villefort, arresting Maximilian by the arm, "if my -father, the inflexible man, makes this request, it is -because he knows, be assured, that Valentine will be -terribly revenged. Is it not so, father?" The old man made a -sign in the affirmative. Villefort continued "He knows me, -and I have pledged my word to him. Rest assured, gentlemen, -that within three days, in a less time than justice would -demand, the revenge I shall have taken for the murder of my -child will be such as to make the boldest heart tremble" -and as he spoke these words he ground his teeth, and grasped -the old man's senseless hand. -"Will this promise be fulfilled, M. Noirtier?" asked Morrel, -while d'Avrigny looked inquiringly. -"Yes," replied Noirtier with an expression of sinister joy. -"Swear, then," said Villefort, joining the hands of Morrel -and d'Avrigny, "swear that you will spare the honor of my -house, and leave me to avenge my child." D'Avrigny turned -round and uttered a very feeble "Yes," but Morrel, -disengaging his hand, rushed to the bed, and after having -pressed the cold lips of Valentine with his own, hurriedly -left, uttering a long, deep groan of despair and anguish. We -have before stated that all the servants had fled. M. de -Villefort was therefore obliged to request M. d'Avrigny to -superintend all the arrangements consequent upon a death in -a large city, more especially a death under such suspicious -circumstances. -It was something terrible to witness the silent agony, the -mute despair of Noirtier, whose tears silently rolled down -his cheeks. Villefort retired to his study, and d'Avrigny -left to summon the doctor of the mayoralty, whose office it -is to examine bodies after decease, and who is expressly -named "the doctor of the dead." M. Noirtier could not be -persuaded to quit his grandchild. At the end of a quarter of -an hour M. d'Avrigny returned with his associate they found -the outer gate closed, and not a servant remaining in the -house Villefort himself was obliged to open to them. But he -stopped on the landing he had not the courage to again -visit the death chamber. The two doctors, therefore, entered -the room alone. Noirtier was near the bed, pale, motionless, -and silent as the corpse. The district doctor approached -with the indifference of a man accustomed to spend half his -time amongst the dead he then lifted the sheet which was -placed over the face, and just unclosed the lips. -"Alas," said d'Avrigny, "she is indeed dead, poor child" -"Yes," answered the doctor laconically, dropping the sheet -he had raised. Noirtier uttered a kind of hoarse, rattling -sound the old man's eyes sparkled, and the good doctor -understood that he wished to behold his child. He therefore -approached the bed, and while his companion was dipping the -fingers with which he had touched the lips of the corpse in -chloride of lime, he uncovered the calm and pale face, which -looked like that of a sleeping angel. A tear, which appeared -in the old man's eye, expressed his thanks to the doctor. -The doctor of the dead then laid his permit on the corner of -the table, and having fulfilled his duty, was conducted out -by d'Avrigny. Villefort met them at the door of his study -having in a few words thanked the district doctor, he turned -to d'Avrigny, and said, "And now the priest." -"Is there any particular priest you wish to pray with -Valentine?" asked d'Avrigny. -"No." said Villefort "fetch the nearest." -"The nearest," said the district doctor, "is a good Italian -abbe, who lives next door to you. Shall I call on him as I -pass?" -"D'Avrigny," said Villefort, "be so kind, I beseech you, as -to accompany this gentleman. Here is the key of the door, so -that you can go in and out as you please you will bring the -priest with you, and will oblige me by introducing him into -my child's room." -"Do you wish to see him?" -"I only wish to be alone. You will excuse me, will you not? -A priest can understand a father's grief." And M. de -Villefort, giving the key to d'Avrigny, again bade farewell -to the strange doctor, and retired to his study, where he -began to work. For some temperaments work is a remedy for -all afflictions. As the doctors entered the street, they saw -a man in a cassock standing on the threshold of the next -door. "This is the abbe of whom I spoke," said the doctor to -d'Avrigny. D'Avrigny accosted the priest. "Sir," he said, -"are you disposed to confer a great obligation on an unhappy -father who has just lost his daughter? I mean M. de -Villefort, the king's attorney." -"Ah," said the priest, in a marked Italian accent "yes, I -have heard that death is in that house." -"Then I need not tell you what kind of service he requires -of you." -"I was about to offer myself, sir," said the priest "it is -our mission to forestall our duties." -"It is a young girl." -"I know it, sir the servants who fled from the house -informed me. I also know that her name is Valentine, and I -have already prayed for her." -"Thank you, sir," said d'Avrigny "since you have commenced -your sacred office, deign to continue it. Come and watch by -the dead, and all the wretched family will be grateful to -you." -"I am going, sir and I do not hesitate to say that no -prayers will be more fervent than mine." D'Avrigny took the -priest's hand, and without meeting Villefort, who was -engaged in his study, they reached Valentine's room, which -on the following night was to be occupied by the -undertakers. On entering the room, Noirtier's eyes met those -of the abbe, and no doubt he read some particular expression -in them, for he remained in the room. D'Avrigny recommended -the attention of the priest to the living as well as to the -dead, and the abbe promised to devote his prayers to -Valentine and his attentions to Noirtier. In order, -doubtless, that he might not be disturbed while fulfilling -his sacred mission, the priest rose as soon as d'Avrigny -departed, and not only bolted the door through which the -doctor had just left, but also that leading to Madame de -Villefort's room. -Chapter -Danglars Signature. -The next morning dawned dull and cloudy. During the night -the undertakers had executed their melancholy office, and -wrapped the corpse in the windingsheet, which, whatever may -be said about the equality of death, is at least a last -proof of the luxury so pleasing in life. This windingsheet -was nothing more than a beautiful piece of cambric, which -the young girl had bought a fortnight before. During the -evening two men, engaged for the purpose, had carried -Noirtier from Valentine's room into his own, and contrary to -all expectation there was no difficulty in withdrawing him -from his child. The Abbe Busoni had watched till daylight, -and then left without calling any one. D'Avrigny returned -about eight o'clock in the morning he met Villefort on his -way to Noirtier's room, and accompanied him to see how the -old man had slept. They found him in the large armchair, -which served him for a bed, enjoying a calm, nay, almost a -smiling sleep. They both stood in amazement at the door. -"See," said d'Avrigny to Villefort, "nature knows how to -alleviate the deepest sorrow. No one can say that M. -Noirtier did not love his child, and yet he sleeps." -"Yes, you are right," replied Villefort, surprised "he -sleeps, indeed And this is the more strange, since the -least contradiction keeps him awake all night." -"Grief has stunned him," replied d'Avrigny and they both -returned thoughtfully to the procureur's study. -"See, I have not slept," said Villefort, showing his -undisturbed bed "grief does not stun me. I have not been in -bed for two nights but then look at my desk see what I -have written during these two days and nights. I have filled -those papers, and have made out the accusation against the -assassin Benedetto. Oh, work, work, my passion, my joy, -my delight, it is for thee to alleviate my sorrows" and -he convulsively grasped the hand of d'Avrigny. -"Do you require my services now?" asked d'Avrigny. -"No," said Villefort "only return again at eleven o'clock -at twelve the the oh, heavens, my poor, poor child" -and the procureur again becoming a man, lifted up his eyes -and groaned. -"Shall you be present in the reception room?" -"No I have a cousin who has undertaken this sad office. I -shall work, doctor when I work I forget everything." And, -indeed, no sooner had the doctor left the room, than he was -again absorbed in study. On the doorsteps d'Avrigny met the -cousin whom Villefort had mentioned, a personage as -insignificant in our story as in the world he occupied -one of those beings designed from their birth to make -themselves useful to others. He was punctual, dressed in -black, with crape around his hat, and presented himself at -his cousin's with a face made up for the occasion, and which -he could alter as might be required. At twelve o'clock the -mourningcoaches rolled into the paved court, and the Rue du -Faubourg SaintHonore was filled with a crowd of idlers, -equally pleased to witness the festivities or the mourning -of the rich, and who rush with the same avidity to a funeral -procession as to the marriage of a duchess. -Gradually the receptionroom filled, and some of our old -friends made their appearance we mean Debray, -ChateauRenaud, and Beauchamp, accompanied by all the -leading men of the day at the bar, in literature, or the -army, for M. de Villefort moved in the first Parisian -circles, less owing to his social position than to his -personal merit. The cousin standing at the door ushered in -the guests, and it was rather a relief to the indifferent to -see a person as unmoved as themselves, and who did not exact -a mournful face or force tears, as would have been the case -with a father, a brother, or a lover. Those who were -acquainted soon formed into little groups. One of them was -made of Debray, ChateauRenaud, and Beauchamp. -"Poor girl," said Debray, like the rest, paying an -involuntary tribute to the sad event, "poor girl, so -young, so rich, so beautiful Could you have imagined this -scene, ChateauRenaud, when we saw her, at the most three -weeks ago, about to sign that contract?" -"Indeed, no," said ChateauRenaud "Did you know her?" -"I spoke to her once or twice at Madame de Morcerf's, among -the rest she appeared to me charming, though rather -melancholy. Where is her stepmother? Do you know?" -"She is spending the day with the wife of the worthy -gentleman who is receiving us." -"Who is he?" -"Whom do you mean?" -"The gentleman who receives us? Is he a deputy?" -"Oh, no. I am condemned to witness those gentlemen every -day," said Beauchamp "but he is perfectly unknown to me." -"Have you mentioned this death in your paper?" -"It has been mentioned, but the article is not mine indeed, -I doubt if it will please M. Villefort, for it says that if -four successive deaths had happened anywhere else than in -the house of the king's attorney, he would have interested -himself somewhat more about it." -"Still," said ChateauRenaud, "Dr. d'Avrigny, who attends my -mother, declares he is in despair about it. But whom are you -seeking, Debray?" -"I am seeking the Count of Monte Cristo" said the young man. -"I met him on the boulevard, on my way here," said -Beauchamp. "I think he is about to leave Paris he was going -to his banker." -"His banker? Danglars is his banker, is he not?" asked -ChateauRenaud of Debray. -"I believe so," replied the secretary with slight -uneasiness. "But Monte Cristo is not the only one I miss -here I do not see Morrel." -"Morrel? Do they know him?" asked ChateauRenaud. "I think -he has only been introduced to Madame de Villefort." -"Still, he ought to have been here," said Debray "I wonder -what will be talked about tonight this funeral is the news -of the day. But hush, here comes our minister of justice he -will feel obliged to make some little speech to the cousin," -and the three young men drew near to listen. Beauchamp told -the truth when he said that on his way to the funeral he had -met Monte Cristo, who was directing his steps towards the -Rue de la Chausse d'Antin, to M. Danglars'. -The banker saw the carriage of the count enter the court -yard, and advanced to meet him with a sad, though affable -smile. "Well," said he, extending his hand to Monte Cristo, -"I suppose you have come to sympathize with me, for indeed -misfortune has taken possession of my house. When I -perceived you, I was just asking myself whether I had not -wished harm towards those poor Morcerfs, which would have -justified the proverb of "He who wishes misfortunes to -happen to others experiences them himself.' Well, on my word -of honor, I answered, "No' I wished no ill to Morcerf he -was a little proud, perhaps, for a man who like myself has -risen from nothing but we all have our faults. Do you know, -count, that persons of our time of life not that you -belong to the class, you are still a young man, but as I -was saying, persons of our time of life have been very -unfortunate this year. For example, look at the puritanical -procureur, who has just lost his daughter, and in fact -nearly all his family, in so singular a manner Morcerf -dishonored and dead and then myself covered with ridicule -through the villany of Benedetto besides" -"Besides what?" asked the Count. -"Alas, do you not know?" -"What new calamity?" -"My daughter" -"Mademoiselle Danglars?" -"Eugenie has left us" -"Good heavens, what are you telling me?" -"The truth, my dear count. Oh, how happy you must be in not -having either wife or children" -"Do you think so?" -"Indeed I do." -"And so Mademoiselle Danglars" -"She could not endure the insult offered to us by that -wretch, so she asked permission to travel." -"And is she gone?" -"The other night she left." -"With Madame Danglars?" -"No, with a relation. But still, we have quite lost our dear -Eugenie for I doubt whether her pride will ever allow her -to return to France." -"Still, baron," said Monte Cristo, "family griefs, or indeed -any other affliction which would crush a man whose child was -his only treasure, are endurable to a millionaire. -Philosophers may well say, and practical men will always -support the opinion, that money mitigates many trials and -if you admit the efficacy of this sovereign balm, you ought -to be very easily consoled you, the king of finance, the -focus of immeasurable power." -Danglars looked at him askance, as though to ascertain -whether he spoke seriously. "Yes," he answered, "if a -fortune brings consolation, I ought to be consoled I am -rich." -"So rich, dear sir, that your fortune resembles the -pyramids if you wished to demolish them you could not, and -if it were possible, you would not dare" Danglars smiled at -the goodnatured pleasantry of the count. "That reminds me," -he said, "that when you entered I was on the point of -signing five little bonds I have already signed two will -you allow me to do the same to the others?" -"Pray do so." -There was a moment's silence, during which the noise of the -banker's pen was alone heard, while Monte Cristo examined -the gilt mouldings on the ceiling. "Are they Spanish, -Haitian, or Neapolitan bonds?" said Monte Cristo. "No," said -Danglars, smiling, "they are bonds on the bank of France, -payable to bearer. Stay, count," he added, "you, who may be -called the emperor, if I claim the title of king of finance, -have you many pieces of paper of this size, each worth a -million?" The count took into his hands the papers, which -Danglars had so proudly presented to him, and read -"To the Governor of the Bank. Please pay to my order, from -the fund deposited by me, the sum of a million, and charge -the same to my account. -"Baron Danglars." -"One, two, three, four, five," said Monte Cristo "five -millions why what a Croesus you are" -"This is how I transact business," said Danglars. -"It is really wonderful," said the count "above all, if, as -I suppose, it is payable at sight." -"It is, indeed, said Danglars. -"It is a fine thing to have such credit really, it is only -in France these things are done. Five millions on five -little scraps of paper it must be seen to be believed." -"You do not doubt it?" -"No" -"You say so with an accent stay, you shall be convinced -take my clerk to the bank, and you will see him leave it -with an order on the Treasury for the same sum." -"No," said Monte Cristo folding the five notes, "most -decidedly not the thing is so curious, I will make the -experiment myself. I am credited on you for six millions. I -have drawn nine hundred thousand francs, you therefore still -owe me five millions and a hundred thousand francs. I will -take the five scraps of paper that I now hold as bonds, with -your signature alone, and here is a receipt in full for the -six millions between us. I had prepared it beforehand, for I -am much in want of money today." And Monte Cristo placed -the bonds in his pocket with one hand, while with the other -he held out the receipt to Danglars. If a thunderbolt had -fallen at the banker's feet, he could not have experienced -greater terror. -"What," he stammered, "do you mean to keep that money? -Excuse me, excuse me, but I owe this money to the charity -fund, a deposit which I promised to pay this morning." -"Oh, well, then," said Monte Cristo, "I am not particular -about these five notes, pay me in a different form I -wished, from curiosity, to take these, that I might be able -to say that without any advice or preparation the house of -Danglars had paid me five millions without a minute's delay -it would have been remarkable. But here are your bonds pay -me differently" and he held the bonds towards Danglars, who -seized them like a vulture extending its claws to withhold -the food that is being wrested from its grasp. Suddenly he -rallied, made a violent effort to restrain himself, and then -a smile gradually widened the features of his disturbed -countenance. -"Certainly," he said, "your receipt is money." -"Oh dear, yes and if you were at Rome, the house of Thomson - French would make no more difficulty about paying the -money on my receipt than you have just done." -"Pardon me, count, pardon me." -"Then I may keep this money?" -"Yes," said Danglars, while the perspiration started from -the roots of his hair. "Yes, keep it keep it." -Monte Cristo replaced the notes in his pocket with that -indescribable expression which seemed to say, "Come, -reflect if you repent there is still time." -"No," said Danglars, "no, decidedly no keep my signatures. -But you know none are so formal as bankers in transacting -business I intended this money for the charity fund, and I -seemed to be robbing them if I did not pay them with these -precise bonds. How absurd as if one crown were not as -good as another. Excuse me" and he began to laugh loudly, -but nervously. -"Certainly, I excuse you," said Monte Cristo graciously, -"and pocket them." And he placed the bonds in his -pocketbook. -"But," said Danglars, "there is still a sum of one hundred -thousand francs?" -"Oh, a mere nothing," said Monte Cristo. "The balance would -come to about that sum but keep it, and we shall be quits." -"Count." said Danglars, "are you speaking seriously?" -"I never joke with bankers," said Monte Cristo in a freezing -manner, which repelled impertinence and he turned to the -door, just as the valet de chambre announced, "M. de -Boville, receivergeneral of the charities." -"Ma foi," said Monte Cristo "I think I arrived just in time -to obtain your signatures, or they would have been disputed -with me." -Danglars again became pale, and hastened to conduct the -count out. Monte Cristo exchanged a ceremonious bow with M. -de Boville, who was standing in the waitingroom, and who -was introduced into Danglars' room as soon as the count had -left. The count's sad face was illumined by a faint smile, -as he noticed the portfolio which the receivergeneral held -in his hand. At the door he found his carriage, and was -immediately driven to the bank. Meanwhile Danglars, -repressing all emotion, advanced to meet the -receivergeneral. We need not say that a smile of -condescension was stamped upon his lips. "Goodmorning, -creditor," said he "for I wager anything it is the creditor -who visits me." -"You are right, baron," answered M. de Boville "the -charities present themselves to you through me the widows -and orphans depute me to receive alms to the amount of five -millions from you." -"And yet they say orphans are to be pitied," said Danglars, -wishing to prolong the jest. "Poor things" -"Here I am in their name," said M. de Boville "but did you -receive my letter yesterday?" -"Yes." -"I have brought my receipt." -"My dear M. de Boville, your widows and orphans must oblige -me by waiting twentyfour hours, since M. de Monte Cristo -whom you just saw leaving here you did see him, I think?" -"Yes well?" -"Well, M. de Monte Cristo has just carried off their five -millions." -"How so?" -"The count has an unlimited credit upon me a credit opened -by Thomson French, of Rome he came to demand five -millions at once, which I paid him with checks on the bank. -My funds are deposited there, and you can understand that if -I draw out ten millions on the same day it will appear -rather strange to the governor. Two days will be a different -thing," said Danglars, smiling. -"Come," said Boville, with a tone of entire incredulity, -"five millions to that gentleman who just left, and who -bowed to me as though he knew me?" -"Perhaps he knows you, though you do not know him M. de -Monte Cristo knows everybody." -"Five millions" -"Here is his receipt. Believe your own eyes." M. de Boville -took the paper Danglars presented him, and read -"Received of Baron Danglars the sum of five million one -hundred thousand francs, to be repaid on demand by the house -of Thomson French of Rome." -"It is really true," said M. de Boville. -"Do you know the house of Thomson French?" -"Yes, I once had business to transact with it to the amount -of , francs but since then I have not heard it -mentioned." -"It is one of the best houses in Europe," said Danglars, -carelessly throwing down the receipt on his desk. -"And he had five millions in your hands alone Why, this -Count of Monte Cristo must be a nabob?" -"Indeed I do not know what he is he has three unlimited -credits one on me, one on Rothschild, one on Lafitte -and, you see," he added carelessly, "he has given me the -preference, by leaving a balance of , francs." M. de -Boville manifested signs of extraordinary admiration. "I -must visit him," he said, "and obtain some pious grant from -him." -"Oh, you may make sure of him his charities alone amount to -, francs a month." -"It is magnificent I will set before him the example of -Madame de Morcerf and her son." -"What example?" -"They gave all their fortune to the hospitals." -"What fortune?" -"Their own M. de Morcerf's, who is deceased." -"For what reason?" -"Because they would not spend money so guiltily acquired." -"And what are they to live upon?" -"The mother retires into the country, and the son enters the -army." -"Well, I must confess, these are scruples." -"I registered their deed of gift yesterday." -"And how much did they possess?" -"Oh, not much from twelve to thirteen hundred thousand -francs. But to return to our millions." -"Certainly," said Danglars, in the most natural tone in the -world. "Are you then pressed for this money?" -"Yes for the examination of our cash takes place -tomorrow." -"Tomorrow? Why did you not tell me so before? Why, it is as -good as a century At what hour does the examination take -place?" -"At two o'clock." -"Send at twelve," said Danglars, smiling. M. de Boville said -nothing, but nodded his head, and took up the portfolio. -"Now I think of it, you can do better," said Danglars. -"How do you mean?" -"The receipt of M. de Monte Cristo is as good as money take -it to Rothschild's or Lafitte's, and they will take it off -your hands at once." -"What, though payable at Rome?" -"Certainly it will only cost you a discount of , or -, francs." The receiver started back. "Ma foi," he said, -"I prefer waiting till tomorrow. What a proposition" -"I thought, perhaps," said Danglars with supreme -impertinence, "that you had a deficiency to make up?" -"Indeed," said the receiver. -"And if that were the case it would be worth while to make -some sacrifice." -"Thank you, no, sir." -"Then it will be tomorrow." -"Yes but without fail." -"Ah, you are laughing at me send tomorrow at twelve, and -the bank shall be notified." -"I will come myself." -"Better still, since it will afford me the pleasure of -seeing you." They shook hands. "By the way," said M. de -Boville, "are you not going to the funeral of poor -Mademoiselle de Villefort, which I met on my road here?" -"No," said the banker "I have appeared rather ridiculous -since that affair of Benedetto, so I remain in the -background." -"Bah, you are wrong. How were you to blame in that affair?" -"Listen when one bears an irreproachable name, as I do, -one is rather sensitive." -"Everybody pities you, sir and, above all, Mademoiselle -Danglars" -"Poor Eugenie" said Danglars "do you know she is going to -embrace a religious life?" -"No." -"Alas, it is unhappily but too true. The day after the -event, she decided on leaving Paris with a nun of her -acquaintance they are gone to seek a very strict convent in -Italy or Spain." -"Oh, it is terrible" and M. de Boville retired with this -exclamation, after expressing acute sympathy with the -father. But he had scarcely left before Danglars, with an -energy of action those can alone understand who have seen -Robert Macaire represented by Frederic, exclaimed, -"Fool" Then enclosing Monte Cristo's receipt in a little -pocketbook, he added "Yes, come at twelve o'clock I -shall then be far away." Then he doublelocked his door, -emptied all his drawers, collected about fifty thousand -francs in banknotes, burned several papers, left others -exposed to view, and then commenced writing a letter which -he addressed -"To Madame la Baronne Danglars." - Frederic Lemaitre French actor . Robert -Macaire is the hero of two favorite melodramas "Chien de -Montargis" and "Chien d'Aubry" and the name is applied to -bold criminals as a term of derision. -"I will place it on her table myself tonight," he murmured. -Then taking a passport from his drawer he said, "Good, it -is available for two months longer." -Chapter -The Cemetery of PerelaChaise. -M. de Boville had indeed met the funeral procession which -was taking Valentine to her last home on earth. The weather -was dull and stormy, a cold wind shook the few remaining -yellow leaves from the boughs of the trees, and scattered -them among the crowd which filled the boulevards. M. de -Villefort, a true Parisian, considered the cemetery of -PerelaChaise alone worthy of receiving the mortal remains -of a Parisian family there alone the corpses belonging to -him would be surrounded by worthy associates. He had -therefore purchased a vault, which was quickly occupied by -members of his family. On the front of the monument was -inscribed "The families of SaintMeran and Villefort," for -such had been the last wish expressed by poor Renee, -Valentine's mother. The pompous procession therefore wended -its way towards PerelaChaise from the Faubourg -SaintHonore. Having crossed Paris, it passed through the -Faubourg du Temple, then leaving the exterior boulevards, it -reached the cemetery. More than fifty private carriages -followed the twenty mourningcoaches, and behind them more -than five hundred persons joined in the procession on foot. -These last consisted of all the young people whom -Valentine's death had struck like a thunderbolt, and who, -notwithstanding the raw chilliness of the season, could not -refrain from paying a last tribute to the memory of the -beautiful, chaste, and adorable girl, thus cut off in the -flower of her youth. As they left Paris, an equipage with -four horses, at full speed, was seen to draw up suddenly it -contained Monte Cristo. The count left the carriage and -mingled in the crowd who followed on foot. ChateauRenaud -perceived him and immediately alighting from his coupe, -joined him. -The count looked attentively through every opening in the -crowd he was evidently watching for some one, but his -search ended in disappointment. "Where is Morrel?" he asked -"do either of these gentlemen know where he is?" -"We have already asked that question," said ChateauRenaud, -"for none of us has seen him." The count was silent, but -continued to gaze around him. At length they arrived at the -cemetery. The piercing eye of Monte Cristo glanced through -clusters of bushes and trees, and was soon relieved from all -anxiety, for seeing a shadow glide between the yewtrees, -Monte Cristo recognized him whom he sought. One funeral is -generally very much like another in this magnificent -metropolis. Black figures are seen scattered over the long -white avenues the silence of earth and heaven is alone -broken by the noise made by the crackling branches of hedges -planted around the monuments then follows the melancholy -chant of the priests, mingled now and then with a sob of -anguish, escaping from some woman concealed behind a mass of -flowers. -The shadow Monte Cristo had noticed passed rapidly behind -the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, placed itself close to the -heads of the horses belonging to the hearse, and following -the undertaker's men, arrived with them at the spot -appointed for the burial. Each person's attention was -occupied. Monte Cristo saw nothing but the shadow, which no -one else observed. Twice the count left the ranks to see -whether the object of his interest had any concealed weapon -beneath his clothes. When the procession stopped, this -shadow was recognized as Morrel, who, with his coat buttoned -up to his throat, his face livid, and convulsively crushing -his hat between his fingers, leaned against a tree, situated -on an elevation commanding the mausoleum, so that none of -the funeral details could escape his observation. Everything -was conducted in the usual manner. A few men, the least -impressed of all by the scene, pronounced a discourse, some -deploring this premature death, others expatiating on the -grief of the father, and one very ingenious person quoting -the fact that Valentine had solicited pardon of her father -for criminals on whom the arm of justice was ready to fall -until at length they exhausted their stores of metaphor -and mournful speeches. -Monte Cristo heard and saw nothing, or rather he only saw -Morrel, whose calmness had a frightful effect on those who -knew what was passing in his heart. "See," said Beauchamp, -pointing out Morrel to Debray. "What is he doing up there?" -And they called ChateauRenaud's attention to him. -"How pale he is" said ChateauRenaud, shuddering. -"He is cold," said Debray. -"Not at all," said ChateauRenaud, slowly "I think he is -violently agitated. He is very susceptible." -"Bah," said Debray "he scarcely knew Mademoiselle de -Villefort you said so yourself." -"True. Still I remember he danced three times with her at -Madame de Morcerf's. Do you recollect that ball, count, -where you produced such an effect?" -"No, I do not," replied Monte Cristo, without even knowing -of what or to whom he was speaking, so much was he occupied -in watching Morrel, who was holding his breath with emotion. -"The discourse is over farewell, gentlemen," said the -count. And he disappeared without anyone seeing whither he -went. The funeral being over, the guests returned to Paris. -ChateauRenaud looked for a moment for Morrel but while -they were watching the departure of the count, Morrel had -quitted his post, and ChateauRenaud, failing in his search, -joined Debray and Beauchamp. -Monte Cristo concealed himself behind a large tomb and -awaited the arrival of Morrel, who by degrees approached the -tomb now abandoned by spectators and workmen. Morrel threw a -glance around, but before it reached the spot occupied by -Monte Cristo the latter had advanced yet nearer, still -unperceived. The young man knelt down. The count, with -outstretched neck and glaring eyes, stood in an attitude -ready to pounce upon Morrel upon the first occasion. Morrel -bent his head till it touched the stone, then clutching the -grating with both hands, he murmured, "Oh, Valentine" -The count's heart was pierced by the utterance of these two -words he stepped forward, and touching the young man's -shoulder, said, "I was looking for you, my friend." Monte -Cristo expected a burst of passion, but he was deceived, for -Morrel turning round, said calmly, -"You see I was praying." The scrutinizing glance of the -count searched the young man from head to foot. He then -seemed more easy. -"Shall I drive you back to Paris?" he asked. -"No, thank you." -"Do you wish anything?" -"Leave me to pray." The count withdrew without opposition, -but it was only to place himself in a situation where he -could watch every movement of Morrel, who at length arose, -brushed the dust from his knees, and turned towards Paris, -without once looking back. He walked slowly down the Rue de -la Roquette. The count, dismissing his carriage, followed -him about a hundred paces behind. Maximilian crossed the -canal and entered the Rue Meslay by the boulevards. Five -minutes after the door had been closed on Morrel's entrance, -it was again opened for the count. Julie was at the entrance -of the garden, where she was attentively watching Penelon, -who, entering with zeal into his profession of gardener, was -very busy grafting some Bengal roses. "Ah, count," she -exclaimed, with the delight manifested by every member of -the family whenever he visited the Rue Meslay. -"Maximilian has just returned, has he not, madame?" asked -the count. -"Yes, I think I saw him pass but pray, call Emmanuel." -"Excuse me, madame, but I must go up to Maximilian's room -this instant," replied Monte Cristo, "I have something of -the greatest importance to tell him." -"Go, then," she said with a charming smile, which -accompanied him until he had disappeared. Monte Cristo soon -ran up the staircase conducting from the groundfloor to -Maximilian's room when he reached the landing he listened -attentively, but all was still. Like many old houses -occupied by a single family, the room door was panelled with -glass but it was locked, Maximilian was shut in, and it was -impossible to see what was passing in the room, because a -red curtain was drawn before the glass. The count's anxiety -was manifested by a bright color which seldom appeared on -the face of that imperturbable man. -"What shall I do" he uttered, and reflected for a moment -"shall I ring? No, the sound of a bell, announcing a -visitor, will but accelerate the resolution of one in -Maximilian's situation, and then the bell would be followed -by a louder noise." Monte Cristo trembled from head to foot -and as if his determination had been taken with the rapidity -of lightning, he struck one of the panes of glass with his -elbow the glass was shivered to atoms, then withdrawing the -curtain he saw Morrel, who had been writing at his desk, -bound from his seat at the noise of the broken window. -"I beg a thousand pardons," said the count, "there is -nothing the matter, but I slipped down and broke one of your -panes of glass with my elbow. Since it is opened, I will -take advantage of it to enter your room do not disturb -yourself do not disturb yourself" And passing his hand -through the broken glass, the count opened the door. Morrel, -evidently discomposed, came to meet Monte Cristo less with -the intention of receiving him than to exclude his entry. -"Ma foi," said Monte Cristo, rubbing his elbow, "it's all -your servant's fault your stairs are so polished, it is -like walking on glass." -"Are you hurt, sir?" coldly asked Morrel. -"I believe not. But what are you about there? You were -writing." -"I?" -"Your fingers are stained with ink." -"Ah, true, I was writing. I do sometimes, soldier though I -am." -Monte Cristo advanced into the room Maximilian was obliged -to let him pass, but he followed him. "You were writing?" -said Monte Cristo with a searching look. -"I have already had the honor of telling you I was," said -Morrel. -The count looked around him. "Your pistols are beside your -desk," said Monte Cristo, pointing with his finger to the -pistols on the table. -"I am on the point of starting on a journey," replied Morrel -disdainfully. -"My friend," exclaimed Monte Cristo in a tone of exquisite -sweetness. -"Sir?" -"My friend, my dear Maximilian, do not make a hasty -resolution, I entreat you." -"I make a hasty resolution?" said Morrel, shrugging his -shoulders "is there anything extraordinary in a journey?" -"Maximilian," said the count, "let us both lay aside the -mask we have assumed. You no more deceive me with that false -calmness than I impose upon you with my frivolous -solicitude. You can understand, can you not, that to have -acted as I have done, to have broken that glass, to have -intruded on the solitude of a friend you can understand -that, to have done all this, I must have been actuated by -real uneasiness, or rather by a terrible conviction. Morrel, -you are going to destroy yourself" -"Indeed, count," said Morrel, shuddering "what has put this -into your head?" -"I tell you that you are about to destroy yourself," -continued the count, "and here is proof of what I say" and, -approaching the desk, he removed the sheet of paper which -Morrel had placed over the letter he had begun, and took the -latter in his hands. -Morrel rushed forward to tear it from him, but Monte Cristo -perceiving his intention, seized his wrist with his iron -grasp. "You wish to destroy yourself," said the count "you -have written it." -"Well," said Morrel, changing his expression of calmness for -one of violence "well, and if I do intend to turn this -pistol against myself, who shall prevent me who will dare -prevent me? All my hopes are blighted, my heart is broken, -my life a burden, everything around me is sad and mournful -earth has become distasteful to me, and human voices -distract me. It is a mercy to let me die, for if I live I -shall lose my reason and become mad. When, sir, I tell you -all this with tears of heartfelt anguish, can you reply that -I am wrong, can you prevent my putting an end to my -miserable existence? Tell me, sir, could you have the -courage to do so?" -"Yes, Morrel," said Monte Cristo, with a calmness which -contrasted strangely with the young man's excitement "yes, -I would do so." -"You?" exclaimed Morrel, with increasing anger and reproach -"you, who have deceived me with false hopes, who have -cheered and soothed me with vain promises, when I might, if -not have saved her, at least have seen her die in my arms -You, who pretend to understand everything, even the hidden -sources of knowledge, and who enact the part of a -guardian angel upon earth, and could not even find an -antidote to a poison administered to a young girl Ah, sir, -indeed you would inspire me with pity, were you not hateful -in my eyes." -"Morrel" -"Yes you tell me to lay aside the mask, and I will do so, -be satisfied When you spoke to me at the cemetery, I -answered you my heart was softened when you arrived -here, I allowed you to enter. But since you abuse my -confidence, since you have devised a new torture after I -thought I had exhausted them all, then, Count of Monte -Cristo my pretended benefactor then, Count of Monte -Cristo, the universal guardian, be satisfied, you shall -witness the death of your friend" and Morrel, with a -maniacal laugh, again rushed towards the pistols. -"And I again repeat, you shall not commit suicide." -"Prevent me, then" replied Morrel, with another struggle, -which, like the first, failed in releasing him from the -count's iron grasp. -"I will prevent you." -"And who are you, then, that arrogate to yourself this -tyrannical right over free and rational beings?" -"Who am I?" repeated Monte Cristo. "Listen I am the only -man in the world having the right to say to you, "Morrel, -your father's son shall not die today'" and Monte Cristo, -with an expression of majesty and sublimity, advanced with -arms folded toward the young man, who, involuntarily -overcome by the commanding manner of this man, recoiled a -step. -"Why do you mention my father?" stammered he "why do you -mingle a recollection of him with the affairs of today?" -"Because I am he who saved your father's life when he wished -to destroy himself, as you do today because I am the man -who sent the purse to your young sister, and the Pharaon to -old Morrel because I am the Edmond Dantes who nursed you, -a child, on my knees." Morrel made another step back, -staggering, breathless, crushed then all his strength give -way, and he fell prostrate at the feet of Monte Cristo. Then -his admirable nature underwent a complete and sudden -revulsion he arose, rushed out of the room and to the -stairs, exclaiming energetically, "Julie, Julie Emmanuel, -Emmanuel" -Monte Cristo endeavored also to leave, but Maximilian would -have died rather than relax his hold of the handle of the -door, which he closed upon the count. Julie, Emmanuel, and -some of the servants, ran up in alarm on hearing the cries -of Maximilian. Morrel seized their hands, and opening the -door exclaimed in a voice choked with sobs, "On your knees -on your knees he is our benefactor the saviour of -our father He is" -He would have added "Edmond Dantes," but the count seized -his arm and prevented him. Julie threw herself into the arms -of the count Emmanuel embraced him as a guardian angel -Morrel again fell on his knees, and struck the ground with -his forehead. Then the ironhearted man felt his heart swell -in his breast a flame seemed to rush from his throat to his -eyes, he bent his head and wept. For a while nothing was -heard in the room but a succession of sobs, while the -incense from their grateful hearts mounted to heaven. Julie -had scarcely recovered from her deep emotion when she rushed -out of the room, descended to the next floor, ran into the -drawingroom with childlike joy and raised the crystal globe -which covered the purse given by the unknown of the Allees -de Meillan. Meanwhile, Emmanuel in a broken voice said to -the count, "Oh, count, how could you, hearing us so often -speak of our unknown benefactor, seeing us pay such homage -of gratitude and adoration to his memory, how could you -continue so long without discovering yourself to us? Oh, it -was cruel to us, and dare I say it? to you also." -"Listen, my friends," said the count "I may call you so -since we have really been friends for the last eleven years -the discovery of this secret has been occasioned by a -great event which you must never know. I wish to bury it -during my whole life in my own bosom, but your brother -Maximilian wrested it from me by a violence he repents of -now, I am sure." Then turning around, and seeing that -Morrel, still on his knees, had thrown himself into an -armchair, be added in a low voice, pressing Emmanuel's hand -significantly, "Watch over him." -"Why so?" asked the young man, surprised. -"I cannot explain myself but watch over him." Emmanuel -looked around the room and caught sight of the pistols his -eyes rested on the weapons, and he pointed to them. Monte -Cristo bent his head. Emmanuel went towards the pistols. -"Leave them," said Monte Cristo. Then walking towards -Morrel, he took his hand the tumultuous agitation of the -young man was succeeded by a profound stupor. Julie -returned, holding the silken purse in her hands, while tears -of joy rolled down her cheeks, like dewdrops on the rose. -"Here is the relic," she said "do not think it will be less -dear to us now we are acquainted with our benefactor" -"My child," said Monte Cristo, coloring, "allow me to take -back that purse? Since you now know my face, I wish to be -remembered alone through the affection I hope you will grant -me. -"Oh," said Julie, pressing the purse to her heart, "no, no, -I beseech you do not take it, for some unhappy day you will -leave us, will you not?" -"You have guessed rightly, madame," replied Monte Cristo, -smiling "in a week I shall have left this country, where so -many persons who merit the vengeance of heaven lived -happily, while my father perished of hunger and grief." -While announcing his departure, the count fixed his eyes on -Morrel, and remarked that the words, "I shall have left this -country," had failed to rouse him from his lethargy. He then -saw that he must make another struggle against the grief of -his friend, and taking the hands of Emmanuel and Julie, -which he pressed within his own, he said with the mild -authority of a father, "My kind friends, leave me alone with -Maximilian." Julie saw the means offered of carrying off her -precious relic, which Monte Cristo had forgotten. She drew -her husband to the door. "Let us leave them," she said. The -count was alone with Morrel, who remained motionless as a -statue. -"Come," said MonteCristo, touching his shoulder with his -finger, "are you a man again, Maximilian?" -"Yes for I begin to suffer again." -The count frowned, apparently in gloomy hesitation. -"Maximilian, Maximilian," he said, "the ideas you yield to -are unworthy of a Christian." -"Oh, do not fear, my friend," said Morrel, raising his head, -and smiling with a sweet expression on the count "I shall -no longer attempt my life." -"Then we are to have no more pistols no more despair?" -"No I have found a better remedy for my grief than either a -bullet or a knife." -"Poor fellow, what is it?" -"My grief will kill me of itself." -"My friend," said Monte Cristo, with an expression of -melancholy equal to his own, "listen to me. One day, in a -moment of despair like yours, since it led to a similar -resolution, I also wished to kill myself one day your -father, equally desperate, wished to kill himself too. If -any one had said to your father, at the moment he raised the -pistol to his head if any one had told me, when in my -prison I pushed back the food I had not tasted for three -days if anyone had said to either of us then, "Live -the day will come when you will be happy, and will bless -life' no matter whose voice had spoken, we should have -heard him with the smile of doubt, or the anguish of -incredulity, and yet how many times has your father -blessed life while embracing you how often have I myself" -"Ah," exclaimed Morrel, interrupting the count, "you had -only lost your liberty, my father had only lost his fortune, -but I have lost Valentine." -"Look at me," said Monte Cristo, with that expression which -sometimes made him so eloquent and persuasive "look at -me. There are no tears in my eyes, nor is there fever in my -veins, yet I see you suffer you, Maximilian, whom I love -as my own son. Well, does not this tell you that in grief, -as in life, there is always something to look forward to -beyond? Now, if I entreat, if I order you to live, Morrel, -it is in the conviction that one day you will thank me for -having preserved your life." -"Oh, heavens," said the young man, "oh, heavens what are -you saying, count? Take care. But perhaps you have never -loved" -"Child" replied the count. -"I mean, as I love. You see, I have been a soldier ever -since I attained manhood. I reached the age of twentynine -without loving, for none of the feelings I before then -experienced merit the appellation of love. Well, at -twentynine I saw Valentine for two years I have loved her, -for two years I have seen written in her heart, as in a -book, all the virtues of a daughter and wife. Count, to -possess Valentine would have been a happiness too infinite, -too ecstatic, too complete, too divine for this world, since -it has been denied me but without Valentine the earth is -desolate." -"I have told you to hope," said the count. -"Then have a care, I repeat, for you seek to persuade me, -and if you succeed I should lose my reason, for I should -hope that I could again behold Valentine." The count smiled. -"My friend, my father," said Morrel with excitement, "have a -care, I again repeat, for the power you wield over me alarms -me. Weigh your words before you speak, for my eyes have -already become brighter, and my heart beats strongly be -cautious, or you will make me believe in supernatural -agencies. I must obey you, though you bade me call forth the -dead or walk upon the water." -"Hope, my friend," repeated the count. -"Ah," said Morrel, falling from the height of excitement to -the abyss of despair "ah, you are playing with me, like -those good, or rather selfish mothers who soothe their -children with honeyed words, because their screams annoy -them. No, my friend, I was wrong to caution you do not -fear, I will bury my grief so deep in my heart, I will -disguise it so, that you shall not even care to sympathize -with me. Adieu, my friend, adieu" -"On the contrary," said the count, "after this time you must -live with me you must not leave me, and in a week we -shall have left France behind us." -"And you still bid me hope?" -"I tell you to hope, because I have a method of curing you." -"Count, you render me sadder than before, if it be possible. -You think the result of this blow has been to produce an -ordinary grief, and you would cure it by an ordinary remedy -change of scene." And Morrel dropped his head with -disdainful incredulity. "What can I say more?" asked Monte -Cristo. "I have confidence in the remedy I propose, and only -ask you to permit me to assure you of its efficacy." -"Count, you prolong my agony." -"Then," said the count, "your feeble spirit will not even -grant me the trial I request? Come do you know of what -the Count of Monte Cristo is capable? do you know that he -holds terrestrial beings under his control? nay, that he can -almost work a miracle? Well, wait for the miracle I hope to -accomplish, or" -"Or?" repeated Morrel. -"Or, take care, Morrel, lest I call you ungrateful." -"Have pity on me, count" -"I feel so much pity towards you, Maximilian, that listen -to me attentively if I do not cure you in a month, to the -day, to the very hour, mark my words, Morrel, I will place -loaded pistols before you, and a cup of the deadliest -Italian poison a poison more sure and prompt than that -which has killed Valentine." -"Will you promise me?" -"Yes for I am a man, and have suffered like yourself, and -also contemplated suicide indeed, often since misfortune -has left me I have longed for the delights of an eternal -sleep." -"But you are sure you will promise me this?" said Morrel, -intoxicated. "I not only promise, but swear it" said Monte -Cristo extending his hand. -"In a month, then, on your honor, if I am not consoled, you -will let me take my life into my own hands, and whatever may -happen you will not call me ungrateful?" -"In a month, to the day, the very hour and the date are -sacred, Maximilian. I do not know whether you remember that -this is the th of September it is ten years today since I -saved your father's life, who wished to die." Morrel seized -the count's hand and kissed it the count allowed him to pay -the homage he felt due to him. "In a month you will find on -the table, at which we shall be then sitting, good pistols -and a delicious draught but, on the other hand, you must -promise me not to attempt your life before that time." -"Oh, I also swear it" Monte Cristo drew the young man -towards him, and pressed him for some time to his heart. -"And now," he said, "after today, you will come and live -with me you can occupy Haidee's apartment, and my daughter -will at least be replaced by my son." -"Haidee?" said Morrel, "what has become of her?" -"She departed last night." -"To leave you?" -"To wait for me. Hold yourself ready then to join me at the -Champs Elysees, and lead me out of this house without any -one seeing my departure." Maximilian hung his head, and -obeyed with childlike reverence. -Chapter -Dividing the Proceeds. -The apartment on the second floor of the house in the Rue -SaintGermaindesPres, where Albert de Morcerf had selected -a home for his mother, was let to a very mysterious person. -This was a man whose face the concierge himself had never -seen, for in the winter his chin was buried in one of the -large red handkerchiefs worn by gentlemen's coachmen on a -cold night, and in the summer he made a point of always -blowing his nose just as he approached the door. Contrary to -custom, this gentleman had not been watched, for as the -report ran that he was a person of high rank, and one who -would allow no impertinent interference, his incognito was -strictly respected. -His visits were tolerably regular, though occasionally he -appeared a little before or after his time, but generally, -both in summer and winter, he took possession of his -apartment about four o'clock, though he never spent the -night there. At halfpast three in the winter the fire was -lighted by the discreet servant, who had the superintendence -of the little apartment, and in the summer ices were placed -on the table at the same hour. At four o'clock, as we have -already stated, the mysterious personage arrived. Twenty -minutes afterwards a carriage stopped at the house, a lady -alighted in a black or dark blue dress, and always thickly -veiled she passed like a shadow through the lodge, and ran -upstairs without a sound escaping under the touch of her -light foot. No one ever asked her where she was going. Her -face, therefore, like that of the gentleman, was perfectly -unknown to the two concierges, who were perhaps unequalled -throughout the capital for discretion. We need not say she -stopped at the second floor. Then she tapped in a peculiar -manner at a door, which after being opened to admit her was -again fastened, and curiosity penetrated no farther. They -used the same precautions in leaving as in entering the -house. The lady always left first, and as soon as she had -stepped into her carriage, it drove away, sometimes towards -the right hand, sometimes to the left then about twenty -minutes afterwards the gentleman would also leave, buried in -his cravat or concealed by his handkerchief. -The day after Monte Cristo had called upon Danglars, the -mysterious lodger entered at ten o'clock in the morning -instead of four in the afternoon. Almost directly -afterwards, without the usual interval of time, a cab -arrived, and the veiled lady ran hastily upstairs. The door -opened, but before it could be closed, the lady exclaimed -"Oh, Lucien oh, my friend" The concierge therefore heard -for the first time that the lodger's name was Lucien still, -as he was the very perfection of a doorkeeper, he made up -his mind not to tell his wife. "Well, what is the matter, my -dear?" asked the gentleman whose name the lady's agitation -revealed "tell me what is the matter." -"Oh, Lucien, can I confide in you?" -"Of course, you know you can do so. But what can be the -matter? Your note of this morning has completely bewildered -me. This precipitation this unusual appointment. Come, -ease me of my anxiety, or else frighten me at once." -"Lucien, a great event has happened" said the lady, -glancing inquiringly at Lucien, "M. Danglars left last -night" -"Left? M. Danglars left? Where has he gone?" -"I do not know." -"What do you mean? Has he gone intending not to return?" -"Undoubtedly at ten o'clock at night his horses took him -to the barrier of Charenton there a postchaise was waiting -for him he entered it with his valet de chambre, saying -that he was going to Fontainebleau." -"Then what did you mean" -"Stay he left a letter for me." -"A letter?" -"Yes read it." And the baroness took from her pocket a -letter which she gave to Debray. Debray paused a moment -before reading, as if trying to guess its contents, or -perhaps while making up his mind how to act, whatever it -might contain. No doubt his ideas were arranged in a few -minutes, for he began reading the letter which caused so -much uneasiness in the heart of the baroness, and which ran -as follows -"Madame and most faithful wife." -Debray mechanically stopped and looked at the baroness, -whose face became covered with blushes. "Read," she said. -Debray continued -"When you receive this, you will no longer have a husband. -Oh, you need not be alarmed, you will only have lost him as -you have lost your daughter I mean that I shall be -travelling on one of the thirty or forty roads leading out -of France. I owe you some explanations for my conduct, and -as you are a woman that can perfectly understand me, I will -give them. Listen, then. I received this morning five -millions which I paid away almost directly afterwards -another demand for the same sum was presented to me I put -this creditor off till tomorrow and I intend leaving -today, to escape that tomorrow, which would be rather too -unpleasant for me to endure. You understand this, do you -not, my most precious wife? I say you understand this, -because you are as conversant with my affairs as I am -indeed, I think you understand them better, since I am -ignorant of what has become of a considerable portion of my -fortune, once very tolerable, while I am sure, madame, that -you know perfectly well. For women have infallible -instincts they can even explain the marvellous by an -algebraic calculation they have invented but I, who only -understand my own figures, know nothing more than that one -day these figures deceived me. Have you admired the rapidity -of my fall? Have you been slightly dazzled at the sudden -fusion of my ingots? I confess I have seen nothing but the -fire let us hope you have found some gold among the ashes. -With this consoling idea, I leave you, madame, and most -prudent wife, without any conscientious reproach for -abandoning you you have friends left, and the ashes I have -already mentioned, and above all the liberty I hasten to -restore to you. And here, madame, I must add another word of -explanation. So long as I hoped you were working for the -good of our house and for the fortune of our daughter, I -philosophically closed my eyes but as you have transformed -that house into a vast ruin I will not be the foundation of -another man's fortune. You were rich when I married you, but -little respected. Excuse me for speaking so very candidly, -but as this is intended only for ourselves, I do not see why -I should weigh my words. I have augmented our fortune, and -it has continued to increase during the last fifteen years, -till extraordinary and unexpected catastrophes have suddenly -overturned it, without any fault of mine, I can honestly -declare. You, madame, have only sought to increase your own, -and I am convinced that you have succeeded. I leave you, -therefore, as I took you, rich, but little respected. -Adieu I also intend from this time to work on my own -account. Accept my acknowledgments for the example you have -set me, and which I intend following. -"Your very devoted husband, -"Baron Danglars." -The baroness had watched Debray while he read this long and -painful letter, and saw him, notwithstanding his -selfcontrol, change color once or twice. When he had ended -the perusal, he folded the letter and resumed his pensive -attitude. "Well?" asked Madame Danglars, with an anxiety -easy to be understood. -"Well, madame?" unhesitatingly repeated Debray. -"With what ideas does that letter inspire you?" -"Oh, it is simple enough, madame it inspires me with the -idea that M. Danglars has left suspiciously." -"Certainly but is this all you have to say to me?" -"I do not understand you," said Debray with freezing -coldness. -"He is gone Gone, never to return" -"Oh, madame, do not think that" -"I tell you he will never return. I know his character he -is inflexible in any resolutions formed for his own -interests. If he could have made any use of me, he would -have taken me with him he leaves me in Paris, as our -separation will conduce to his benefit therefore he has -gone, and I am free forever," added Madame Danglars, in the -same supplicating tone. Debray, instead of answering, -allowed her to remain in an attitude of nervous inquiry. -"Well?" she said at length, "do you not answer me?" -"I have but one question to ask you, what do you intend -to do?" -"I was going to ask you," replied the baroness with a -beating heart. -"Ah, then, you wish to ask advice of me?" -"Yes I do wish to ask your advice," said Madame Danglars -with anxious expectation. -"Then if you wish to take my advice," said the young man -coldly, "I would recommend you to travel." -"To travel" she murmured. -"Certainly as M. Danglars says, you are rich, and perfectly -free. In my opinion, a withdrawal from Paris is absolutely -necessary after the double catastrophe of Mademoiselle -Danglars' broken contract and M. Danglars' disappearance. -The world will think you abandoned and poor, for the wife of -a bankrupt would never be forgiven, were she to keep up an -appearance of opulence. You have only to remain in Paris for -about a fortnight, telling the world you are abandoned, and -relating the details of this desertion to your best friends, -who will soon spread the report. Then you can quit your -house, leaving your jewels and giving up your jointure, and -every one's mouth will be filled with praises of your -disinterestedness. They will know you are deserted, and -think you also poor, for I alone know your real financial -position, and am quite ready to give up my accounts as an -honest partner." The dread with which the pale and -motionless baroness listened to this, was equalled by the -calm indifference with which Debray had spoken. "Deserted?" -she repeated "ah, yes, I am, indeed, deserted You are -right, sir, and no one can doubt my position." These were -the only words that this proud and violently enamoured woman -could utter in response to Debray. -"But then you are rich, very rich, indeed," continued -Debray, taking out some papers from his pocketbook, which -he spread upon the table. Madame Danglars did not see them -she was engaged in stilling the beatings of her heart, and -restraining the tears which were ready to gush forth. At -length a sense of dignity prevailed, and if she did not -entirely master her agitation, she at least succeeded in -preventing the fall of a single tear. "Madame," said Debray, -"it is nearly six months since we have been associated. You -furnished a principal of , francs. Our partnership -began in the month of April. In May we commenced operations, -and in the course of the month gained , francs. In -June the profit amounted to ,. In July we added -,, francs, it was, you know, the month of the -Spanish bonds. In August we lost , francs at the -beginning of the month, but on the th we made up for it, -and we now find that our accounts, reckoning from the first -day of partnership up to yesterday, when I closed them, -showed a capital of ,, francs, that is, ,, for -each of us. Now, madame," said Debray, delivering up his -accounts in the methodical manner of a stockbroker, "there -are still , francs, the interest of this money, in my -hands." -"But," said the baroness, "I thought you never put the money -out to interest." -"Excuse me, madame," said Debray coldly, "I had your -permission to do so, and I have made use of it. There are, -then, , francs for your share, besides the , you -furnished me to begin with, making in all ,, francs -for your portion. Now, madame, I took the precaution of -drawing out your money the day before yesterday it is not -long ago, you see, and I was in continual expectation of -being called on to deliver up my accounts. There is your -money, half in banknotes, the other half in checks -payable to bearer. I say there, for as I did not consider my -house safe enough, or lawyers sufficiently discreet, and as -landed property carries evidence with it, and moreover since -you have no right to possess anything independent of your -husband, I have kept this sum, now your whole fortune, in a -chest concealed under that closet, and for greater security -I myself concealed it there. -"Now, madame," continued Debray, first opening the closet, -then the chest "now, madame, here are notes of , -francs each, resembling, as you see, a large book bound in -iron to this I add a certificate in the funds of , -francs then, for the odd cash, making I think about , -francs, here is a check upon my banker, who, not being M. -Danglars, will pay you the amount, you may rest assured." -Madame Danglars mechanically took the check, the bond, and -the heap of banknotes. This enormous fortune made no great -appearance on the table. Madame Danglars, with tearless -eyes, but with her breast heaving with concealed emotion, -placed the banknotes in her bag, put the certificate and -check into her pocketbook, and then, standing pale and -mute, awaited one kind word of consolation. But she waited -in vain. -"Now, madame," said Debray, "you have a splendid fortune, an -income of about , livres a year, which is enormous for -a woman who cannot keep an establishment here for a year, at -least. You will be able to indulge all your fancies -besides, should you find your income insufficient, you can, -for the sake of the past, madame, make use of mine and I am -ready to offer you all I possess, on loan." -"Thank you, sir thank you," replied the baroness "you -forget that what you have just paid me is much more than a -poor woman requires, who intends for some time, at least, to -retire from the world." -Debray was, for a moment, surprised, but immediately -recovering himself, he bowed with an air which seemed to -say, "As you please, madame." -Madame Danglars had until then, perhaps, hoped for -something but when she saw the careless bow of Debray, and -the glance by which it was accompanied, together with his -significant silence, she raised her head, and without -passion or violence or even hesitation, ran downstairs, -disdaining to address a last farewell to one who could thus -part from her. "Bah," said Debray, when she had left, "these -are fine projects She will remain at home, read novels, and -speculate at cards, since she can no longer do so on the -Bourse." Then taking up his account book, he cancelled with -the greatest care all the entries of the amounts he had just -paid away. "I have ,, francs remaining," he said. -"What a pity Mademoiselle de Villefort is dead She suited -me in every respect, and I would have married her." And he -calmly waited until the twenty minutes had elapsed after -Madame Danglars' departure before he left the house. During -this time he occupied himself in making figures, with his -watch by his side. -Asmodeus that diabolical personage, who would have been -created by every fertile imagination if Le Sage had not -acquired the priority in his great masterpiece would have -enjoyed a singular spectacle, if he had lifted up the roof -of the little house in the Rue SaintGermaindesPres, while -Debray was casting up his figures. Above the room in which -Debray had been dividing two millions and a half with Madame -Danglars was another, inhabited by persons who have played -too prominent a part in the incidents we have related for -their appearance not to create some interest. Mercedes and -Albert were in that room. Mercedes was much changed within -the last few days not that even in her days of fortune she -had ever dressed with the magnificent display which makes us -no longer able to recognize a woman when she appears in a -plain and simple attire nor indeed, had she fallen into -that state of depression where it is impossible to conceal -the garb of misery no, the change in Mercedes was that her -eye no longer sparkled, her lips no longer smiled, and there -was now a hesitation in uttering the words which formerly -sprang so fluently from her ready wit. -It was not poverty which had broken her spirit it was not a -want of courage which rendered her poverty burdensome. -Mercedes, although deposed from the exalted position she had -occupied, lost in the sphere she had now chosen, like a -person passing from a room splendidly lighted into utter -darkness, appeared like a queen, fallen from her palace to a -hovel, and who, reduced to strict necessity, could neither -become reconciled to the earthen vessels she was herself -forced to place upon the table, nor to the humble pallet -which had become her bed. The beautiful Catalane and noble -countess had lost both her proud glance and charming smile, -because she saw nothing but misery around her the walls -were hung with one of the gray papers which economical -landlords choose as not likely to show the dirt the floor -was uncarpeted the furniture attracted the attention to the -poor attempt at luxury indeed, everything offended eyes -accustomed to refinement and elegance. -Madame de Morcerf had lived there since leaving her house -the continual silence of the spot oppressed her still, -seeing that Albert continually watched her countenance to -judge the state of her feelings, she constrained herself to -assume a monotonous smile of the lips alone, which, -contrasted with the sweet and beaming expression that -usually shone from her eyes, seemed like "moonlight on a -statue," yielding light without warmth. Albert, too, was -ill at ease the remains of luxury prevented him from -sinking into his actual position. If he wished to go out -without gloves, his hands appeared too white if he wished -to walk through the town, his boots seemed too highly -polished. Yet these two noble and intelligent creatures, -united by the indissoluble ties of maternal and filial love, -had succeeded in tacitly understanding one another, and -economizing their stores, and Albert had been able to tell -his mother without extorting a change of countenance, -"Mother, we have no more money." -Mercedes had never known misery she had often, in her -youth, spoken of poverty, but between want and necessity, -those synonymous words, there is a wide difference. Amongst -the Catalans, Mercedes wished for a thousand things, but -still she never really wanted any. So long as the nets were -good, they caught fish and so long as they sold their fish, -they were able to buy twine for new nets. And then, shut out -from friendship, having but one affection, which could not -be mixed up with her ordinary pursuits, she thought of -herself of no one but herself. Upon the little she earned -she lived as well as she could now there were two to be -supported, and nothing to live upon. -Winter approached. Mercedes had no fire in that cold and -naked room she, who was accustomed to stoves which heated -the house from the hall to the boudoir she had not even one -little flower she whose apartment had been a conservatory -of costly exotics. But she had her son. Hitherto the -excitement of fulfilling a duty had sustained them. -Excitement, like enthusiasm, sometimes renders us -unconscious to the things of earth. But the excitement had -calmed down, and they felt themselves obliged to descend -from dreams to reality after having exhausted the ideal, -they found they must talk of the actual. -"Mother," exclaimed Albert, just as Madame Danglars was -descending the stairs, "let us reckon our riches, if you -please I want capital to build my plans upon." -"Capital nothing" replied Mercedes with a mournful -smile. -"No, mother, capital , francs. And I have an idea of -our leading a delightful life upon this , francs." -"Child" sighed Mercedes. -"Alas, dear mother," said the young man, "I have unhappily -spent too much of your money not to know the value of it. -These , francs are enormous, and I intend building upon -this foundation a miraculous certainty for the future." -"You say this, my dear boy but do you think we ought to -accept these , francs?" said Mercedes, coloring. -"I think so," answered Albert in a firm tone. "We will -accept them the more readily, since we have them not here -you know they are buried in the garden of the little house -in the Allees de Meillan, at Marseilles. With francs we -can reach Marseilles." -"With francs? are you sure, Albert?" -"Oh, as for that, I have made inquiries respecting the -diligences and steamboats, and my calculations are made. You -will take your place in the coupe to Chalons. You see, -mother, I treat you handsomely for thirtyfive francs." -Albert then took a pen, and wrote -Frs. -Coupe, thirtyfive francs ............................ -From Chalons to Lyons you will go on by the steamboat -six francs ......................................... -From Lyons to Avignon still by steamboat, -sixteen francs ....................................... -From Avignon to Marseilles, seven franc................ -Expenses on the road, about fifty francs ............. -Total................................................ frs. -"Let us put down ," added Albert, smiling. "You see I am -generous, am I not, mother?" -"But you, my poor child?" -"I? do you not see that I reserve eighty francs for myself? -A young man does not require luxuries besides, I know what -travelling is." -"With a postchaise and valet de chambre?" -"Any way, mother." -"Well, be it so. But these francs?" -"Here they are, and more besides. See, I have sold my -watch for francs, and the guard and seals for . How -fortunate that the ornaments were worth more than the watch. -Still the same story of superfluities Now I think we are -rich, since instead of the francs we require for the -journey we find ourselves in possession of ." -"But we owe something in this house?" -"Thirty francs but I pay that out of my francs, that -is understood, and as I require only eighty francs for my -journey, you see I am overwhelmed with luxury. But that is -not all. What do you say to this, mother?" -And Albert took out of a little pocketbook with golden -clasps, a remnant of his old fancies, or perhaps a tender -souvenir from one of the mysterious and veiled ladies who -used to knock at his little door, Albert took out of this -pocketbook a note of , francs. -"What is this?" asked Mercedes. -"A thousand francs." -"But whence have you obtained them?" -"Listen to me, mother, and do not yield too much to -agitation." And Albert, rising, kissed his mother on both -cheeks, then stood looking at her. "You cannot imagine, -mother, how beautiful I think you" said the young man, -impressed with a profound feeling of filial love. "You are, -indeed, the most beautiful and most noble woman I ever saw" -"Dear child" said Mercedes, endeavoring in vain to restrain -a tear which glistened in the corner of her eye. "Indeed, -you only wanted misfortune to change my love for you to -admiration. I am not unhappy while I possess my son" -"Ah, just so," said Albert "here begins the trial. Do you -know the decision we have come to, mother?" -"Have we come to any?" -"Yes it is decided that you are to live at Marseilles, and -that I am to leave for Africa, where I will earn for myself -the right to use the name I now bear, instead of the one I -have thrown aside." Mercedes sighed. "Well, mother, I -yesterday engaged myself as substitute in the Spahis," -added the young man, lowering his eyes with a certain -feeling of shame, for even he was unconscious of the -sublimity of his selfabasement. "I thought my body was my -own, and that I might sell it. I yesterday took the place of -another. I sold myself for more than I thought I was worth," -he added, attempting to smile "I fetched , francs." - The Spahis are French cavalry reserved for service in -Africa. -"Then these , francs" said Mercedes, shuddering -"Are the half of the sum, mother the other will be paid in -a year." -Mercedes raised her eyes to heaven with an expression it -would be impossible to describe, and tears, which had -hitherto been restrained, now yielded to her emotion, and -ran down her cheeks. -"The price of his blood" she murmured. -"Yes, if I am killed," said Albert, laughing. "But I assure -you, mother, I have a strong intention of defending my -person, and I never felt half so strong an inclination to -live as I do now." -"Merciful heavens" -"Besides, mother, why should you make up your mind that I am -to be killed? Has Lamoriciere, that Ney of the South, been -killed? Has Changarnier been killed? Has Bedeau been killed? -Has Morrel, whom we know, been killed? Think of your joy, -mother, when you see me return with an embroidered uniform -I declare, I expect to look magnificent in it, and chose -that regiment only from vanity." Mercedes sighed while -endeavoring to smile the devoted mother felt that she ought -not to allow the whole weight of the sacrifice to fall upon -her son. "Well, now you understand, mother" continued -Albert "here are more than , francs settled on you -upon these you can live at least two years." -"Do you think so?" said Mercedes. These words were uttered -in so mournful a tone that their real meaning did not escape -Albert he felt his heart beat, and taking his mother's hand -within his own he said, tenderly, -"Yes, you will live" -"I shall live then you will not leave me, Albert?" -"Mother, I must go," said Albert in a firm, calm voice "you -love me too well to wish me to remain useless and idle with -you besides, I have signed." -"You will obey your own wish and the will of heaven" -"Not my own wish, mother, but reason necessity. Are we -not two despairing creatures? What is life to you? -Nothing. What is life to me? Very little without you, -mother for believe me, but for you I should have ceased to -live on the day I doubted my father and renounced his name. -Well, I will live, if you promise me still to hope and if -you grant me the care of your future prospects, you will -redouble my strength. Then I will go to the governor of -Algeria he has a royal heart, and is essentially a soldier -I will tell him my gloomy story. I will beg him to turn his -eyes now and then towards me, and if he keep his word and -interest himself for me, in six months I shall be an -officer, or dead. If I am an officer, your fortune is -certain, for I shall have money enough for both, and, -moreover, a name we shall both be proud of, since it will be -our own. If I am killed well then mother, you can also -die, and there will be an end of our misfortunes." -"It is well," replied Mercedes, with her eloquent glance -"you are right, my love let us prove to those who are -watching our actions that we are worthy of compassion." -"But let us not yield to gloomy apprehensions," said the -young man "I assure you we are, or rather we shall be, very -happy. You are a woman at once full of spirit and -resignation I have become simple in my tastes, and am -without passion, I hope. Once in service, I shall be rich -once in M. Dantes' house, you will be at rest. Let us -strive, I beseech you, let us strive to be cheerful." -"Yes, let us strive, for you ought to live, and to be happy, -Albert." -"And so our division is made, mother," said the young man, -affecting ease of mind. "We can now part come, I shall -engage your passage." -"And you, my dear boy?" -"I shall stay here for a few days longer we must accustom -ourselves to parting. I want recommendations and some -information relative to Africa. I will join you again at -Marseilles." -"Well, be it so let us part," said Mercedes, folding -around her shoulders the only shawl she had taken away, and -which accidentally happened to be a valuable black cashmere. -Albert gathered up his papers hastily, rang the bell to pay -the thirty francs he owed to the landlord, and offering his -arm to his mother, they descended the stairs. Some one was -walking down before them, and this person, hearing the -rustling of a silk dress, turned around. "Debray" muttered -Albert. -"You, Morcerf?" replied the secretary, resting on the -stairs. Curiosity had vanquished the desire of preserving -his incognito, and he was recognized. It was, indeed, -strange in this unknown spot to find the young man whose -misfortunes had made so much noise in Paris. -"Morcerf" repeated Debray. Then noticing in the dim light -the still youthful and veiled figure of Madame de Morcerf -"Pardon me," he added with a smile, "I leave you, -Albert." Albert understood his thoughts. "Mother," he said, -turning towards Mercedes, "this is M. Debray, secretary of -the minister for the interior, once a friend of mine." -"How once?" stammered Debray "what do you mean?" -"I say so, M. Debray, because I have no friends now, and I -ought not to have any. I thank you for having recognized me, -sir." Debray stepped forward, and cordially pressed the hand -of his interlocutor. "Believe me, dear Albert," he said, -with all the emotion he was capable of feeling, "believe -me, I feel deeply for your misfortunes, and if in any way I -can serve you, I am yours." -"Thank you, sir," said Albert, smiling. "In the midst of our -misfortunes, we are still rich enough not to require -assistance from any one. We are leaving Paris, and when our -journey is paid, we shall have , francs left." The blood -mounted to the temples of Debray, who held a million in his -pocketbook, and unimaginative as he was he could not help -reflecting that the same house had contained two women, one -of whom, justly dishonored, had left it poor with ,, -francs under her cloak, while the other, unjustly stricken, -but sublime in her misfortune, was yet rich with a few -deniers. This parallel disturbed his usual politeness, the -philosophy he witnessed appalled him, he muttered a few -words of general civility and ran downstairs. -That day the minister's clerks and the subordinates had a -great deal to put up with from his illhumor. But that same -night, he found himself the possessor of a fine house, -situated on the Boulevard de la Madeleine, and an income of -, livres. The next day, just as Debray was signing the -deed, that is about five o'clock in the afternoon, Madame de -Morcerf, after having affectionately embraced her son, -entered the coupe of the diligence, which closed upon her. A -man was hidden in Lafitte's bankinghouse, behind one of the -little arched windows which are placed above each desk he -saw Mercedes enter the diligence, and he also saw Albert -withdraw. Then he passed his hand across his forehead, which -was clouded with doubt. "Alas," he exclaimed, "how can I -restore the happiness I have taken away from these poor -innocent creatures? God help me" -Chapter -The Lions' Den. -One division of La Force, in which the most dangerous and -desperate prisoners are confined, is called the court of -SaintBernard. The prisoners, in their expressive language, -have named it the "Lions' Den," probably because the -captives possess teeth which frequently gnaw the bars, and -sometimes the keepers also. It is a prison within a prison -the walls are double the thickness of the rest. The gratings -are every day carefully examined by jailers, whose herculean -proportions and cold pitiless expression prove them to have -been chosen to reign over their subjects for their superior -activity and intelligence. The courtyard of this quarter is -enclosed by enormous walls, over which the sun glances -obliquely, when it deigns to penetrate into this gulf of -moral and physical deformity. On this paved yard are to be -seen, pacing to and fro from morning till night, pale, -careworn, and haggard, like so many shadows, the men whom -justice holds beneath the steel she is sharpening. There, -crouched against the side of the wall which attracts and -retains the most heat, they may be seen sometimes talking to -one another, but more frequently alone, watching the door, -which sometimes opens to call forth one from the gloomy -assemblage, or to throw in another outcast from society. -The court of SaintBernard has its own particular apartment -for the reception of guests it is a long rectangle, divided -by two upright gratings placed at a distance of three feet -from one another to prevent a visitor from shaking hands -with or passing anything to the prisoners. It is a wretched, -damp, nay, even horrible spot, more especially when we -consider the agonizing conferences which have taken place -between those iron bars. And yet, frightful though this spot -may be, it is looked upon as a kind of paradise by the men -whose days are numbered it is so rare for them to leave the -Lions' Den for any other place than the barrier -SaintJacques or the galleys -In the court which we have attempted to describe, and from -which a damp vapor was rising, a young man with his hands in -his pockets, who had excited much curiosity among the -inhabitants of the "Den," might be seen walking. The cut of -his clothes would have made him pass for an elegant man, if -those clothes had not been torn to shreds still they did -not show signs of wear, and the fine cloth, beneath the -careful hands of the prisoner, soon recovered its gloss in -the parts which were still perfect, for the wearer tried his -best to make it assume the appearance of a new coat. He -bestowed the same attention upon the cambric front of a -shirt, which had considerably changed in color since his -entrance into the prison, and he polished his varnished -boots with the corner of a handkerchief embroidered with -initials surmounted by a coronet. Some of the inmates of the -"Lions' Den" were watching the operations of the prisoner's -toilet with considerable interest. "See, the prince is -pluming himself," said one of the thieves. "He's a fine -looking fellow," said another "if he had only a comb and -hairgrease, he'd take the shine off the gentlemen in white -kids." -"His coat looks almost new, and his boots shine like a -nigger's face. It's pleasant to have such welldressed -comrades but didn't those gendarmes behave shameful? -must 'a been jealous, to tear such clothes" -"He looks like a bigbug," said another "dresses in fine -style. And, then, to be here so young Oh, what larks" -Meanwhile the object of this hideous admiration approached -the wicket, against which one of the keepers was leaning. -"Come, sir," he said, "lend me twenty francs you will soon -be paid you run no risks with me. Remember, I have -relations who possess more millions than you have deniers. -Come, I beseech you, lend me twenty francs, so that I may -buy a dressinggown it is intolerable always to be in a -coat and boots And what a coat, sir, for a prince of the -Cavalcanti" The keeper turned his back, and shrugged his -shoulders he did not even laugh at what would have caused -any one else to do so he had heard so many utter the same -things, indeed, he heard nothing else. -"Come," said Andrea, "you are a man void of compassion I'll -have you turned out." This made the keeper turn around, and -he burst into a loud laugh. The prisoners then approached -and formed a circle. "I tell you that with that wretched -sum," continued Andrea, "I could obtain a coat, and a room -in which to receive the illustrious visitor I am daily -expecting." -"Of course of course," said the prisoners "any one -can see he's a gentleman" -"Well, then, lend him the twenty francs," said the keeper, -leaning on the other shoulder "surely you will not refuse a -comrade" -"I am no comrade of these people," said the young man, -proudly, "you have no right to insult me thus." -The thieves looked at one another with low murmurs, and a -storm gathered over the head of the aristocratic prisoner, -raised less by his own words than by the manner of the -keeper. The latter, sure of quelling the tempest when the -waves became too violent, allowed them to rise to a certain -pitch that he might be revenged on the importunate Andrea, -and besides it would afford him some recreation during the -long day. The thieves had already approached Andrea, some -screaming, "La savate La savate" a cruel operation, -which consists in cuffing a comrade who may have fallen into -disgrace, not with an old shoe, but with an ironheeled one. -Others proposed the "anguille," another kind of recreation, -in which a handkerchief is filled with sand, pebbles, and -twosous pieces, when they have them, which the wretches -beat like a flail over the head and shoulders of the unhappy -sufferer. "Let us horsewhip the fine gentleman" said -others. - Savate an old shoe. -But Andrea, turning towards them, winked his eyes, rolled -his tongue around his cheeks, and smacked his lips in a -manner equivalent to a hundred words among the bandits when -forced to be silent. It was a Masonic sign Caderousse had -taught him. He was immediately recognized as one of them -the handkerchief was thrown down, and the ironheeled shoe -replaced on the foot of the wretch to whom it belonged. Some -voices were heard to say that the gentleman was right that -he intended to be civil, in his way, and that they would set -the example of liberty of conscience, and the mob -retired. The keeper was so stupefied at this scene that he -took Andrea by the hands and began examining his person, -attributing the sudden submission of the inmates of the -Lions' Den to something more substantial than mere -fascination. Andrea made no resistance, although he -protested against it. Suddenly a voice was heard at the -wicket. "Benedetto" exclaimed an inspector. The keeper -relaxed his hold. "I am called," said Andrea. "To the -visitors' room" said the same voice. -"You see some one pays me a visit. Ah, my dear sir, you will -see whether a Cavalcanti is to be treated like a common -person" And Andrea, gliding through the court like a black -shadow, rushed out through the wicket, leaving his comrades, -and even the keeper, lost in wonder. Certainly a call to the -visitors' room had scarcely astonished Andrea less than -themselves, for the wily youth, instead of making use of his -privilege of waiting to be claimed on his entry into La -Force, had maintained a rigid silence. "Everything," he -said, "proves me to be under the protection of some powerful -person, this sudden fortune, the facility with which I -have overcome all obstacles, an unexpected family and an -illustrious name awarded to me, gold showered down upon me, -and the most splendid alliances about to be entered into. An -unhappy lapse of fortune and the absence of my protector -have cast me down, certainly, but not forever. The hand -which has retreated for a while will be again stretched -forth to save me at the very moment when I shall think -myself sinking into the abyss. Why should I risk an -imprudent step? It might alienate my protector. He has two -means of extricating me from this dilemma, the one by a -mysterious escape, managed through bribery the other by -buying off my judges with gold. I will say and do nothing -until I am convinced that he has quite abandoned me, and -then" -Andrea had formed a plan which was tolerably clever. The -unfortunate youth was intrepid in the attack, and rude in -the defence. He had borne with the public prison, and with -privations of all sorts still, by degrees nature, or rather -custom, had prevailed, and he suffered from being naked, -dirty, and hungry. It was at this moment of discomfort that -the inspector's voice called him to the visitingroom. -Andrea felt his heart leap with joy. It was too soon for a -visit from the examining magistrate, and too late for one -from the director of the prison, or the doctor it must, -then, be the visitor he hoped for. Behind the grating of the -room into which Andrea had been led, he saw, while his eyes -dilated with surprise, the dark and intelligent face of M. -Bertuccio, who was also gazing with sad astonishment upon -the iron bars, the bolted doors, and the shadow which moved -behind the other grating. -"Ah," said Andrea, deeply affected. -"Good morning, Benedetto," said Bertuccio, with his deep, -hollow voice. -"You you?" said the young man, looking fearfully around -him. -"Do you not recognize me, unhappy child?" -"Silence, be silent" said Andrea, who knew the delicate -sense of hearing possessed by the walls "for heaven's sake, -do not speak so loud" -"You wish to speak with me alone, do you not?" said -Bertuccio. -"Oh, yes." -"That is well." And Bertuccio, feeling in his pocket, signed -to a keeper whom he saw through the window of the wicket. -"Read?" he said. -"What is that?" asked Andrea. -"An order to conduct you to a room, and to leave you there -to talk to me." -"Oh," cried Andrea, leaping with joy. Then he mentally -added, "Still my unknown protector I am not forgotten. -They wish for secrecy, since we are to converse in a private -room. I understand, Bertuccio has been sent by my -protector." -The keeper spoke for a moment with an official, then opened -the iron gates and conducted Andrea to a room on the first -floor. The room was whitewashed, as is the custom in -prisons, but it looked quite brilliant to a prisoner, though -a stove, a bed, a chair, and a table formed the whole of its -sumptuous furniture. Bertuccio sat down upon the chair, -Andrea threw himself upon the bed the keeper retired. -"Now," said the steward, "what have you to tell me?" -"And you?" said Andrea. -"You speak first." -"Oh, no. You must have much to tell me, since you have come -to seek me." -"Well, be it so. You have continued your course of villany -you have robbed you have assassinated." -"Well, I should say If you had me taken to a private room -only to tell me this, you might have saved yourself the -trouble. I know all these things. But there are some with -which, on the contrary, I am not acquainted. Let us talk of -those, if you please. Who sent you?" -"Come, come, you are going on quickly, M. Benedetto" -"Yes, and to the point. Let us dispense with useless words. -Who sends you?" -"No one." -"How did you know I was in prison?" -"I recognized you, some time since, as the insolent dandy -who so gracefully mounted his horse in the Champs Elysees." -"Oh, the Champs Elysees? Ah, yes we burn, as they say at -the game of pincette. The Champs Elysees? Come, let us talk -a little about my father." -"Who, then, am I?" -"You, sir? you are my adopted father. But it was not you, -I presume, who placed at my disposal , francs, which I -spent in four or five months it was not you who -manufactured an Italian gentleman for my father it was not -you who introduced me into the world, and had me invited to -a certain dinner at Auteuil, which I fancy I am eating at -this moment, in company with the most distinguished people -in Paris amongst the rest with a certain procureur, whose -acquaintance I did very wrong not to cultivate, for he would -have been very useful to me just now it was not you, in -fact, who bailed me for one or two millions, when the fatal -discovery of my little secret took place. Come, speak, my -worthy Corsican, speak" -"What do you wish me to say?" -"I will help you. You were speaking of the Champs Elysees -just now, worthy fosterfather." -"Well?" -"Well, in the Champs Elysees there resides a very rich -gentleman." -"At whose house you robbed and murdered, did you not?" -"I believe I did." -"The Count of Monte Cristo?" -"'Tis you who have named him, as M. Racine says. Well, am I -to rush into his arms, and strain him to my heart, crying, -"My father, my father' like Monsieur Pixerecourt." -"Do not let us jest," gravely replied Bertuccio, "and dare -not to utter that name again as you have pronounced it." - Guilbert de Pixerecourt, French dramatist . -"Bah," said Andrea, a little overcome, by the solemnity of -Bertuccio's manner, "why not?" -"Because the person who bears it is too highly favored by -heaven to be the father of such a wretch as you." -"Oh, these are fine words." -"And there will be fine doings, if you do not take care." -"Menaces I do not fear them. I will say" -"Do you think you are engaged with a pygmy like yourself?" -said Bertuccio, in so calm a tone, and with so steadfast a -look, that Andrea was moved to the very soul. "Do you think -you have to do with galleyslaves, or novices in the world? -Benedetto, you are fallen into terrible hands they are -ready to open for you make use of them. Do not play with -the thunderbolt they have laid aside for a moment, but which -they can take up again instantly, if you attempt to -intercept their movements." -"My father I will know who my father is," said the -obstinate youth "I will perish if I must, but I will know -it. What does scandal signify to me? What possessions, what -reputation, what "pull,' as Beauchamp says, have I? You -great people always lose something by scandal, -notwithstanding your millions. Come, who is my father?" -"I came to tell you." -"Ah," cried Benedetto, his eyes sparkling with joy. Just -then the door opened, and the jailer, addressing himself to -Bertuccio, said, "Excuse me, sir, but the examining -magistrate is waiting for the prisoner." -"And so closes our interview," said Andrea to the worthy -steward "I wish the troublesome fellow were at the devil" -"I will return tomorrow," said Bertuccio. -"Good Gendarmes, I am at your service. Ah, sir, do leave a -few crowns for me at the gate that I may have some things I -am in need of" -"It shall be done," replied Bertuccio. Andrea extended his -hand Bertuccio kept his own in his pocket, and merely -jingled a few pieces of money. "That's what I mean," said -Andrea, endeavoring to smile, quite overcome by the strange -tranquillity of Bertuccio. "Can I be deceived?" he murmured, -as he stepped into the oblong and grated vehicle which they -call "the salad basket." "Never mind, we shall see -Tomorrow, then" he added, turning towards Bertuccio. -"Tomorrow" replied the steward. -Chapter -The Judge. -We remember that the Abbe Busoni remained alone with -Noirtier in the chamber of death, and that the old man and -the priest were the sole guardians of the young girl's body. -Perhaps it was the Christian exhortations of the abbe, -perhaps his kind charity, perhaps his persuasive words, -which had restored the courage of Noirtier, for ever since -he had conversed with the priest his violent despair had -yielded to a calm resignation which surprised all who knew -his excessive affection for Valentine. M. de Villefort had -not seen his father since the morning of the death. The -whole establishment had been changed another valet was -engaged for himself, a new servant for Noirtier, two women -had entered Madame de Villefort's service, in fact, -everywhere, to the concierge and coachmen, new faces were -presented to the different masters of the house, thus -widening the division which had always existed between the -members of the same family. -The assizes, also, were about to begin, and Villefort, shut -up in his room, exerted himself with feverish anxiety in -drawing up the case against the murderer of Caderousse. This -affair, like all those in which the Count of Monte Cristo -had interfered, caused a great sensation in Paris. The -proofs were certainly not convincing, since they rested upon -a few words written by an escaped galleyslave on his -deathbed, and who might have been actuated by hatred or -revenge in accusing his companion. But the mind of the -procureur was made up he felt assured that Benedetto was -guilty, and he hoped by his skill in conducting this -aggravated case to flatter his selflove, which was about -the only vulnerable point left in his frozen heart. -The case was therefore prepared owing to the incessant labor -of Villefort, who wished it to be the first on the list in -the coming assizes. He had been obliged to seclude himself -more than ever, to evade the enormous number of applications -presented to him for the purpose of obtaining tickets of -admission to the court on the day of trial. And then so -short a time had elapsed since the death of poor Valentine, -and the gloom which overshadowed the house was so recent, -that no one wondered to see the father so absorbed in his -professional duties, which were the only means he had of -dissipating his grief. -Once only had Villefort seen his father it was the day -after that upon which Bertuccio had paid his second visit to -Benedetto, when the latter was to learn his father's name. -The magistrate, harassed and fatigued, had descended to the -garden of his house, and in a gloomy mood, similar to that -in which Tarquin lopped off the tallest poppies, he began -knocking off with his cane the long and dying branches of -the rosetrees, which, placed along the avenue, seemed like -the spectres of the brilliant flowers which had bloomed in -the past season. More than once he had reached that part of -the garden where the famous boarded gate stood overlooking -the deserted enclosure, always returning by the same path, -to begin his walk again, at the same pace and with the same -gesture, when he accidentally turned his eyes towards the -house, whence he heard the noisy play of his son, who had -returned from school to spend the Sunday and Monday with his -mother. While doing so, he observed M. Noirtier at one of -the open windows, where the old man had been placed that he -might enjoy the last rays of the sun which yet yielded some -heat, and was now shining upon the dying flowers and red -leaves of the creeper which twined around the balcony. -The eye of the old man was riveted upon a spot which -Villefort could scarcely distinguish. His glance was so full -of hate, of ferocity, and savage impatience, that Villefort -turned out of the path he had been pursuing, to see upon -what person this dark look was directed. Then he saw beneath -a thick clump of lindentrees, which were nearly divested of -foliage, Madame de Villefort sitting with a book in her -hand, the perusal of which she frequently interrupted to -smile upon her son, or to throw back his elastic ball, which -he obstinately threw from the drawingroom into the garden. -Villefort became pale he understood the old man's meaning. -Noirtier continued to look at the same object, but suddenly -his glance was transferred from the wife to the husband, and -Villefort himself had to submit to the searching -investigation of eyes, which, while changing their direction -and even their language, had lost none of their menacing -expression. Madame de Villefort, unconscious of the passions -that exhausted their fire over her head, at that moment held -her son's ball, and was making signs to him to reclaim it -with a kiss. Edward begged for a long while, the maternal -kiss probably not offering sufficient recompense for the -trouble he must take to obtain it however at length he -decided, leaped out of the window into a cluster of -heliotropes and daisies, and ran to his mother, his forehead -streaming with perspiration. Madame de Villefort wiped his -forehead, pressed her lips upon it, and sent him back with -the ball in one hand and some bonbons in the other. -Villefort, drawn by an irresistible attraction, like that of -the bird to the serpent, walked towards the house. As he -approached it, Noirtier's gaze followed him, and his eyes -appeared of such a fiery brightness that Villefort felt them -pierce to the depths of his heart. In that earnest look -might be read a deep reproach, as well as a terrible menace. -Then Noirtier raised his eyes to heaven, as though to remind -his son of a forgotten oath. "It is well, sir," replied -Villefort from below, "it is well have patience but one -day longer what I have said I will do." Noirtier seemed to -be calmed by these words, and turned his eyes with -indifference to the other side. Villefort violently -unbuttoned his greatcoat, which seemed to strangle him, and -passing his livid hand across his forehead, entered his -study. -The night was cold and still the family had all retired to -rest but Villefort, who alone remained up, and worked till -five o'clock in the morning, reviewing the last -interrogatories made the night before by the examining -magistrates, compiling the depositions of the witnesses, and -putting the finishing stroke to the deed of accusation, -which was one of the most energetic and best conceived of -any he had yet delivered. -The next day, Monday, was the first sitting of the assizes. -The morning dawned dull and gloomy, and Villefort saw the -dim gray light shine upon the lines he had traced in red -ink. The magistrate had slept for a short time while the -lamp sent forth its final struggles its flickerings awoke -him, and he found his fingers as damp and purple as though -they had been dipped in blood. He opened the window a -bright yellow streak crossed the sky, and seemed to divide -in half the poplars, which stood out in black relief on the -horizon. In the cloverfields beyond the chestnuttrees, a -lark was mounting up to heaven, while pouring out her clear -morning song. The damps of the dew bathed the head of -Villefort, and refreshed his memory. "Today," he said with -an effort, "today the man who holds the blade of justice -must strike wherever there is guilt." Involuntarily his eyes -wandered towards the window of Noirtier's room, where he had -seen him the preceding night. The curtain was drawn, and yet -the image of his father was so vivid to his mind that he -addressed the closed window as though it had been open, and -as if through the opening he had beheld the menacing old -man. "Yes," he murmured, "yes, be satisfied." -His head dropped upon his chest, and in this position he -paced his study then he threw himself, dressed as he was, -upon a sofa, less to sleep than to rest his limbs, cramped -with cold and study. By degrees every one awoke. Villefort, -from his study, heard the successive noises which accompany -the life of a house, the opening and shutting of doors, -the ringing of Madame de Villefort's bell, to summon the -waitingmaid, mingled with the first shouts of the child, -who rose full of the enjoyment of his age. Villefort also -rang his new valet brought him the papers, and with them a -cup of chocolate. -"What are you bringing me?" said he. -"A cup of chocolate." -"I did not ask for it. Who has paid me this attention?" -"My mistress, sir. She said you would have to speak a great -deal in the murder case, and that you should take something -to keep up your strength" and the valet placed the cup on -the table nearest to the sofa, which was, like all the rest, -covered with papers. The valet then left the room. Villefort -looked for an instant with a gloomy expression, then, -suddenly, taking it up with a nervous motion, he swallowed -its contents at one draught. It might have been thought that -he hoped the beverage would be mortal, and that he sought -for death to deliver him from a duty which he would rather -die than fulfil. He then rose, and paced his room with a -smile it would have been terrible to witness. The chocolate -was inoffensive, for M. de Villefort felt no effects. The -breakfasthour arrived, but M. de Villefort was not at -table. The valet reentered. -"Madame de Villefort wishes to remind you, sir," he said, -"that eleven o'clock has just struck, and that the trial -commences at twelve." -"Well," said Villefort, "what then?" -"Madame de Villefort is dressed she is quite ready, and -wishes to know if she is to accompany you, sir?" -"Where to?" -"To the Palais." -"What to do?" -"My mistress wishes much to be present at the trial." -"Ah," said Villefort, with a startling accent "does she -wish that?" The man drew back and said, "If you wish to -go alone, sir, I will go and tell my mistress." Villefort -remained silent for a moment, and dented his pale cheeks -with his nails. "Tell your mistress," he at length answered, -"that I wish to speak to her, and I beg she will wait for me -in her own room." -"Yes, sir." -"Then come to dress and shave me." -"Directly, sir." The valet reappeared almost instantly, -and, having shaved his master, assisted him to dress -entirely in black. When he had finished, he said, -"My mistress said she should expect you, sir, as soon as you -had finished dressing." -"I am going to her." And Villefort, with his papers under -his arm and hat in hand, directed his steps toward the -apartment of his wife. At the door he paused for a moment to -wipe his damp, pale brow. He then entered the room. Madame -de Villefort was sitting on an ottoman and impatiently -turning over the leaves of some newspapers and pamphlets -which young Edward, by way of amusing himself, was tearing -to pieces before his mother could finish reading them. She -was dressed to go out, her bonnet was placed beside her on a -chair, and her gloves were on her hands. -"Ah, here you are, monsieur," she said in her naturally calm -voice "but how pale you are Have you been working all -night? Why did you not come down to breakfast? Well, will -you take me, or shall I take Edward?" Madame de Villefort -had multiplied her questions in order to gain one answer, -but to all her inquiries M. de Villefort remained mute and -cold as a statue. "Edward," said Villefort, fixing an -imperious glance on the child, "go and play in the -drawingroom, my dear I wish to speak to your mamma." -Madame de Villefort shuddered at the sight of that cold -countenance, that resolute tone, and the awfully strange -preliminaries. Edward raised his head, looked at his mother, -and then, finding that she did not confirm the order, began -cutting off the heads of his leaden soldiers. -"Edward," cried M. de Villefort, so harshly that the child -started up from the floor, "do you hear me? Go" The -child, unaccustomed to such treatment, arose, pale and -trembling it would be difficult to say whether his emotion -were caused by fear or passion. His father went up to him, -took him in his arms, and kissed his forehead. "Go," he -said "go, my child." Edward ran out. M. de Villefort went -to the door, which he closed behind the child, and bolted. -"Dear me" said the young woman, endeavoring to read her -husband's inmost thoughts, while a smile passed over her -countenance which froze the impassibility of Villefort -"what is the matter?" -"Madame, where do you keep the poison you generally use?" -said the magistrate, without any introduction, placing -himself between his wife and the door. -Madame de Villefort must have experienced something of the -sensation of a bird which, looking up, sees the murderous -trap closing over its head. A hoarse, broken tone, which was -neither a cry nor a sigh, escaped from her, while she became -deadly pale. "Monsieur," she said, "I I do not understand -you." And, in her first paroxysm of terror, she had raised -herself from the sofa, in the next, stronger very likely -than the other, she fell down again on the cushions. "I -asked you," continued Villefort, in a perfectly calm tone, -"where you conceal the poison by the aid of which you have -killed my fatherinlaw, M. de SaintMeran, my -motherinlaw, Madame de SaintMeran, Barrois, and my -daughter Valentine." -"Ah, sir," exclaimed Madame de Villefort, clasping her -hands, "what do you say?" -"It is not for you to interrogate, but to answer." -"Is it to the judge or to the husband?" stammered Madame de -Villefort. "To the judge to the judge, madame" It was -terrible to behold the frightful pallor of that woman, the -anguish of her look, the trembling of her whole frame. "Ah, -sir," she muttered, "ah, sir," and this was all. -"You do not answer, madame" exclaimed the terrible -interrogator. Then he added, with a smile yet more terrible -than his anger, "It is true, then you do not deny it" She -moved forward. "And you cannot deny it" added Villefort, -extending his hand toward her, as though to seize her in the -name of justice. "You have accomplished these different -crimes with impudent address, but which could only deceive -those whose affections for you blinded them. Since the death -of Madame de SaintMeran, I have known that a poisoner lived -in my house. M. d'Avrigny warned me of it. After the death -of Barrois my suspicions were directed towards an angel, -those suspicions which, even when there is no crime, are -always alive in my heart but after the death of Valentine, -there has been no doubt in my mind, madame, and not only in -mine, but in those of others thus your crime, known by two -persons, suspected by many, will soon become public, and, as -I told you just now, you no longer speak to the husband, but -to the judge." -The young woman hid her face in her hands. "Oh, sir," she -stammered, "I beseech you, do not believe appearances." -"Are you, then, a coward?" cried Villefort, in a -contemptuous voice. "But I have always observed that -poisoners were cowards. Can you be a coward, you who have -had the courage to witness the death of two old men and a -young girl murdered by you?" -"Sir sir" -"Can you be a coward?" continued Villefort, with increasing -excitement, "you, who could count, one by one, the minutes -of four death agonies? You, who have arranged your infernal -plans, and removed the beverages with a talent and precision -almost miraculous? Have you, then, who have calculated -everything with such nicety, have you forgotten to calculate -one thing I mean where the revelation of your crimes will -lead you to? Oh, it is impossible you must have saved -some surer, more subtle and deadly poison than any other, -that you might escape the punishment that you deserve. You -have done this I hope so, at least." Madame de Villefort -stretched out her hands, and fell on her knees. -"I understand," he said, "you confess but a confession made -to the judges, a confession made at the last moment, -extorted when the crime cannot be denied, diminishes not the -punishment inflicted on the guilty" -"The punishment?" exclaimed Madame de Villefort, "the -punishment, monsieur? Twice you have pronounced that word" -"Certainly. Did you hope to escape it because you were four -times guilty? Did you think the punishment would be withheld -because you are the wife of him who pronounces it? No, -madame, no the scaffold awaits the poisoner, whoever she -may be, unless, as I just said, the poisoner has taken the -precaution of keeping for herself a few drops of her -deadliest potion." Madame de Villefort uttered a wild cry, -and a hideous and uncontrollable terror spread over her -distorted features. "Oh, do not fear the scaffold, madame," -said the magistrate "I will not dishonor you, since that -would be dishonor to myself no, if you have heard me -distinctly, you will understand that you are not to die on -the scaffold." -"No, I do not understand what do you mean?" stammered the -unhappy woman, completely overwhelmed. "I mean that the wife -of the first magistrate in the capital shall not, by her -infamy, soil an unblemished name that she shall not, with -one blow, dishonor her husband and her child." -"No, no oh, no" -"Well, madame, it will be a laudable action on your part, -and I will thank you for it" -"You will thank me for what?" -"For what you have just said." -"What did I say? Oh, my brain whirls I no longer understand -anything. Oh, my God, my God" And she rose, with her hair -dishevelled, and her lips foaming. -"Have you answered the question I put to you on entering the -room? where do you keep the poison you generally use, -madame?" Madame de Villefort raised her arms to heaven, and -convulsively struck one hand against the other. "No, no," -she vociferated, "no, you cannot wish that" -"What I do not wish, madame, is that you should perish on -the scaffold. Do you understand?" asked Villefort. -"Oh, mercy, mercy, monsieur" -"What I require is, that justice be done. I am on the earth -to punish, madame," he added, with a flaming glance "any -other woman, were it the queen herself, I would send to the -executioner but to you I shall be merciful. To you I will -say, "Have you not, madame, put aside some of the surest, -deadliest, most speedy poison?'" -"Oh, pardon me, sir let me live" -"She is cowardly," said Villefort. -"Reflect that I am your wife" -"You are a poisoner." -"In the name of heaven" -"No" -"In the name of the love you once bore me" -"No, no" -"In the name of our child Ah, for the sake of our child, -let me live" -"No, no, no, I tell you one day, if I allow you to live, -you will perhaps kill him, as you have the others" -"I? I kill my boy?" cried the distracted mother, rushing -toward Villefort "I kill my son? Ha, ha, ha" and a -frightful, demoniac laugh finished the sentence, which was -lost in a hoarse rattle. Madame de Villefort fell at her -husband's feet. He approached her. "Think of it, madame," he -said "if, on my return, justice his not been satisfied, I -will denounce you with my own mouth, and arrest you with my -own hands" She listened, panting, overwhelmed, crushed her -eye alone lived, and glared horribly. "Do you understand -me?" he said. "I am going down there to pronounce the -sentence of death against a murderer. If I find you alive on -my return, you shall sleep tonight in the conciergerie." -Madame de Villefort sighed her nerves gave way, and she -sunk on the carpet. The king's attorney seemed to experience -a sensation of pity he looked upon her less severely, and, -bowing to her, said slowly, "Farewell, madame, farewell" -That farewell struck Madame de Villefort like the -executioner's knife. She fainted. The procureur went out, -after having doublelocked the door. -Chapter -The Assizes. -The Benedetto affair, as it was called at the Palais, and by -people in general, had produced a tremendous sensation. -Frequenting the Cafe de Paris, the Boulevard de Gand, and -the Bois de Boulogne, during his brief career of splendor, -the false Cavalcanti had formed a host of acquaintances. The -papers had related his various adventures, both as the man -of fashion and the galleyslave and as every one who had -been personally acquainted with Prince Andrea Cavalcanti -experienced a lively curiosity in his fate, they all -determined to spare no trouble in endeavoring to witness the -trial of M. Benedetto for the murder of his comrade in -chains. In the eyes of many, Benedetto appeared, if not a -victim to, at least an instance of, the fallibility of the -law. M. Cavalcanti, his father, had been seen in Paris, and -it was expected that he would reappear to claim the -illustrious outcast. Many, also, who were not aware of the -circumstances attending his withdrawal from Paris, were -struck with the worthy appearance, the gentlemanly bearing, -and the knowledge of the world displayed by the old -patrician, who certainly played the nobleman very well, so -long as he said nothing, and made no arithmetical -calculations. As for the accused himself, many remembered -him as being so amiable, so handsome, and so liberal, that -they chose to think him the victim of some conspiracy, since -in this world large fortunes frequently excite the -malevolence and jealousy of some unknown enemy. Every one, -therefore, ran to the court some to witness the sight, -others to comment upon it. From seven o'clock in the morning -a crowd was stationed at the iron gates, and an hour before -the trial commenced the hall was full of the privileged. -Before the entrance of the magistrates, and indeed -frequently afterwards, a court of justice, on days when some -especial trial is to take place, resembles a drawingroom -where many persons recognize each other and converse if they -can do so without losing their seats or, if they are -separated by too great a number of lawyers, communicate by -signs. -It was one of the magnificent autumn days which make amends -for a short summer the clouds which M. de Villefort had -perceived at sunrise had all disappeared as if by magic, and -one of the softest and most brilliant days of September -shone forth in all its splendor. -Beauchamp, one of the kings of the press, and therefore -claiming the right of a throne everywhere, was eying -everybody through his monocle. He perceived ChateauRenaud -and Debray, who had just gained the good graces of a -sergeantatarms, and who had persuaded the latter to let -them stand before, instead of behind him, as they ought to -have done. The worthy sergeant had recognized the minister's -secretary and the millionnaire, and, by way of paying extra -attention to his noble neighbors, promised to keep their -places while they paid a visit to Beauchamp. -"Well," said Beauchamp, "we shall see our friend" -"Yes, indeed" replied Debray. "That worthy prince. Deuce -take those Italian princes" -"A man, too, who could boast of Dante for a genealogist, and -could reckon back to the "Divine Comedy.'" -"A nobility of the rope" said ChateauRenaud -phlegmatically. -"He will be condemned, will he not?" asked Debray of -Beauchamp. -"My dear fellow, I think we should ask you that question -you know such news much better than we do. Did you see the -president at the minister's last night?" -"Yes." -"What did he say?" -"Something which will surprise you." -"Oh, make haste and tell me, then it is a long time since -that has happened." -"Well, he told me that Benedetto, who is considered a -serpent of subtlety and a giant of cunning, is really but a -very commonplace, silly rascal, and altogether unworthy of -the experiments that will be made on his phrenological -organs after his death." -"Bah," said Beauchamp, "he played the prince very well." -"Yes, for you who detest those unhappy princes, Beauchamp, -and are always delighted to find fault with them but not -for me, who discover a gentleman by instinct, and who scent -out an aristocratic family like a very bloodhound of -heraldry." -"Then you never believed in the principality?" -"Yes. in the principality, but not in the prince." -"Not so bad," said Beauchamp "still, I assure you, he -passed very well with many people I saw him at the -ministers' houses." -"Ah, yes," said ChateauRenaud. "The idea of thinking -ministers understand anything about princes" -"There is something in what you have just said," said -Beauchamp, laughing. -"But," said Debray to Beauchamp, "if I spoke to the -president, you must have been with the procureur." -"It was an impossibility for the last week M. de Villefort -has secluded himself. It is natural enough this strange -chain of domestic afflictions, followed by the no less -strange death of his daughter" -"Strange? What do you mean, Beauchamp?" -"Oh, yes do you pretend that all this has been unobserved -at the minister's?" said Beauchamp, placing his eyeglass in -his eye, where he tried to make it remain. -"My dear sir," said ChateauRenaud, "allow me to tell you -that you do not understand that manoeuvre with the eyeglass -half so well as Debray. Give him a lesson, Debray." -"Stay," said Beauchamp, "surely I am not deceived." -"What is it?" -"It is she" -"Whom do you mean?" -"They said she had left." -"Mademoiselle Eugenie?" said ChateauRenaud "has she -returned?" -"No, but her mother." -"Madame Danglars? Nonsense Impossible" said -ChateauRenaud "only ten days after the flight of her -daughter, and three days from the bankruptcy of her -husband?" -Debray colored slightly, and followed with his eyes the -direction of Beauchamp's glance. "Come," he said, "it is -only a veiled lady, some foreign princess, perhaps the -mother of Cavalcanti. But you were just speaking on a very -interesting topic, Beauchamp." -"I?" -"Yes you were telling us about the extraordinary death of -Valentine." -"Ah, yes, so I was. But how is it that Madame de Villefort -is not here?" -"Poor, dear woman," said Debray, "she is no doubt occupied -in distilling balm for the hospitals, or in making cosmetics -for herself or friends. Do you know she spends two or three -thousand crowns a year in this amusement? But I wonder she -is not here. I should have been pleased to see her, for I -like her very much." -"And I hate her," said ChateauRenaud. -"Why?" -"I do not know. Why do we love? Why do we hate? I detest -her, from antipathy." -"Or, rather, by instinct." -"Perhaps so. But to return to what you were saying, -Beauchamp." -"Well, do you know why they die so multitudinously at M. de -Villefort's?" -""Multitudinously' [drv] is good," said ChateauRenaud. -"My good fellow, you'll find the word in SaintSimon." -"But the thing itself is at M. de Villefort's but let's get -back to the subject." -"Talking of that," said Debray, "Madame was making inquiries -about that house, which for the last three months has been -hung with black." -"Who is Madame?" asked ChateauRenaud. -"The minister's wife, pardieu" -"Oh, your pardon I never visit ministers I leave that to -the princes." -"Really, You were only before sparkling, but now you are -brilliant take compassion on us, or, like Jupiter, you will -wither us up." -"I will not speak again," said ChateauRenaud "pray have -compassion upon me, and do not take up every word I say." -"Come, let us endeavor to get to the end of our story, -Beauchamp I told you that yesterday Madame made inquiries -of me upon the subject enlighten me, and I will then -communicate my information to her." -"Well, gentlemen, the reason people die so multitudinously -I like the word at M. de Villefort's is that there is an -assassin in the house" The two young men shuddered, for the -same idea had more than once occurred to them. "And who is -the assassin" they asked together. -"Young Edward" A burst of laughter from the auditors did -not in the least disconcert the speaker, who continued, -"Yes, gentlemen Edward, the infant phenomenon, who is quite -an adept in the art of killing." -"You are jesting." -"Not at all. I yesterday engaged a servant, who had just -left M. de Villefort I intend sending him away tomorrow, -for he eats so enormously, to make up for the fast imposed -upon him by his terror in that house. Well, now listen." -"We are listening." -"It appears the dear child has obtained possession of a -bottle containing some drug, which he every now and then -uses against those who have displeased him. First, M. and -Madame de SaintMeran incurred his displeasure, so he poured -out three drops of his elixir three drops were -sufficient then followed Barrois, the old servant of M. -Noirtier, who sometimes rebuffed this little wretch he -therefore received the same quantity of the elixir the same -happened to Valentine, of whom he was jealous he gave her -the same dose as the others, and all was over for her as -well as the rest." -"Why, what nonsense are you telling us?" said -ChateauRenaud. -"Yes, it is an extraordinary story," said Beauchamp "is it -not?" -"It is absurd," said Debray. -"Ah," said Beauchamp, "you doubt me? Well, you can ask my -servant, or rather him who will no longer be my servant -tomorrow, it was the talk of the house." -"And this elixir, where is it? what is it?" -"The child conceals it." -"But where did he find it?" -"In his mother's laboratory." -"Does his mother then, keep poisons in her laboratory?" -"How can I tell? You are questioning me like a king's -attorney. I only repeat what I have been told, and like my -informant I can do no more. The poor devil would eat -nothing, from fear." -"It is incredible" -"No, my dear fellow, it is not at all incredible. You saw -the child pass through the Rue Richelieu last year, who -amused himself with killing his brothers and sisters by -sticking pins in their ears while they slept. The generation -who follow us are very precocious." -"Come, Beauchamp," said ChateauRenaud, "I will bet anything -you do not believe a word of all you have been telling us." -"I do not see the Count of Monte Cristo here." -"He is worn out," said Debray "besides, he could not well -appear in public, since he has been the dupe of the -Cavalcanti, who, it appears, presented themselves to him -with false letters of credit, and cheated him out of , -francs upon the hypothesis of this principality." -"By the way, M. de ChateauRenaud," asked Beauchamp, "how is -Morrel?" -"Ma foi, I have called three times without once seeing him. -Still, his sister did not seem uneasy, and told me that -though she had not seen him for two or three days, she was -sure he was well." -"Ah, now I think of it, the Count of Monte Cristo cannot -appear in the hall," said Beauchamp. -"Why not?" -"Because he is an actor in the drama." -"Has he assassinated any one, then?" -"No, on the contrary, they wished to assassinate him. You -know that it was in leaving his house that M. de Caderousse -was murdered by his friend Benedetto. You know that the -famous waistcoat was found in his house, containing the -letter which stopped the signature of the marriagecontract. -Do you see the waistcoat? There it is, all bloodstained, on -the desk, as a testimony of the crime." -"Ah, very good." -"Hush, gentlemen, here is the court let us go back to our -places." A noise was heard in the hall the sergeant called -his two patrons with an energetic "hem" and the doorkeeper -appearing, called out with that shrill voice peculiar to his -order, ever since the days of Beaumarchais, "The court, -gentlemen" -Chapter -The Indictment. -The judges took their places in the midst of the most -profound silence the jury took their seats M. de -Villefort, the object of unusual attention, and we had -almost said of general admiration, sat in the armchair and -cast a tranquil glance around him. Every one looked with -astonishment on that grave and severe face, whose calm -expression personal griefs had been unable to disturb, and -the aspect of a man who was a stranger to all human emotions -excited something very like terror. -"Gendarmes," said the president, "lead in the accused." -At these words the public attention became more intense, and -all eyes were turned towards the door through which -Benedetto was to enter. The door soon opened and the accused -appeared. The same impression was experienced by all -present, and no one was deceived by the expression of his -countenance. His features bore no sign of that deep emotion -which stops the beating of the heart and blanches the cheek. -His hands, gracefully placed, one upon his hat, the other in -the opening of his white waistcoat, were not at all -tremulous his eye was calm and even brilliant. Scarcely had -he entered the hall when he glanced at the whole body of -magistrates and assistants his eye rested longer on the -president, and still more so on the king's attorney. By the -side of Andrea was stationed the lawyer who was to conduct -his defence, and who had been appointed by the court, for -Andrea disdained to pay any attention to those details, to -which he appeared to attach no importance. The lawyer was a -young man with light hair whose face expressed a hundred -times more emotion than that which characterized the -prisoner. -The president called for the indictment, revised as we know, -by the clever and implacable pen of Villefort. During the -reading of this, which was long, the public attention was -continually drawn towards Andrea, who bore the inspection -with Spartan unconcern. Villefort had never been so concise -and eloquent. The crime was depicted in the most vivid -colors the former life of the prisoner, his transformation, -a review of his life from the earliest period, were set -forth with all the talent that a knowledge of human life -could furnish to a mind like that of the procureur. -Benedetto was thus forever condemned in public opinion -before the sentence of the law could be pronounced. Andrea -paid no attention to the successive charges which were -brought against him. M. de Villefort, who examined him -attentively, and who no doubt practiced upon him all the -psychological studies he was accustomed to use, in vain -endeavored to make him lower his eyes, notwithstanding the -depth and profundity of his gaze. At length the reading of -the indictment was ended. -"Accused," said the president, "your name and surname?" -Andrea arose. "Excuse me, Mr. President," he said, in a -clear voice, "but I see you are going to adopt a course of -questions through which I cannot follow you. I have an idea, -which I will explain by and by, of making an exception to -the usual form of accusation. Allow me, then, if you please, -to answer in different order, or I will not do so at all." -The astonished president looked at the jury, who in turn -looked at Villefort. The whole assembly manifested great -surprise, but Andrea appeared quite unmoved. "Your age?" -said the president "will you answer that question?" -"I will answer that question, as well as the rest, Mr. -President, but in its turn." -"Your age?" repeated the president. -"I am twentyone years old, or rather I shall be in a few -days, as I was born the night of the th of September, -." M. de Villefort, who was busy taking down some notes, -raised his head at the mention of this date. "Where were you -born?" continued the president. -"At Auteuil, near Paris." M. de Villefort a second time -raised his head, looked at Benedetto as if he had been -gazing at the head of Medusa, and became livid. As for -Benedetto, he gracefully wiped his lips with a fine cambric -pockethandkerchief. "Your profession?" -"First I was a forger," answered Andrea, as calmly as -possible "then I became a thief, and lately have become an -assassin." A murmur, or rather storm, of indignation burst -from all parts of the assembly. The judges themselves -appeared to be stupefied, and the jury manifested tokens of -disgust for cynicism so unexpected in a man of fashion. M. -de Villefort pressed his hand upon his brow, which, at first -pale, had become red and burning then he suddenly arose and -looked around as though he had lost his senses he wanted -air. -"Are you looking for anything, Mr. Procureur?" asked -Benedetto, with his most ingratiating smile. M. de Villefort -answered nothing, but sat, or rather threw himself down -again upon his chair. "And now, prisoner, will you consent -to tell your name?" said the president. "The brutal -affectation with which you have enumerated and classified -your crimes calls for a severe reprimand on the part of the -court, both in the name of morality, and for the respect due -to humanity. You appear to consider this a point of honor, -and it may be for this reason, that you have delayed -acknowledging your name. You wished it to be preceded by all -these titles." -"It is quite wonderful, Mr. President, how entirely you have -read my thoughts," said Benedetto, in his softest voice and -most polite manner. "This is, indeed, the reason why I -begged you to alter the order of the questions." The public -astonishment had reached its height. There was no longer any -deceit or bravado in the manner of the accused. The audience -felt that a startling revelation was to follow this ominous -prelude. -"Well," said the president "your name?" -"I cannot tell you my name, since I do not know it but I -know my father's, and can tell it to you." -A painful giddiness overwhelmed Villefort great drops of -acrid sweat fell from his face upon the papers which he held -in his convulsed hand. -"Repeat your father's name," said the president. Not a -whisper, not a breath, was heard in that vast assembly -every one waited anxiously. -"My father is king's attorney," replied Andrea calmly. -"King's attorney?" said the president, stupefied, and -without noticing the agitation which spread over the face of -M. de Villefort "king's attorney?" -"Yes and if you wish to know his name, I will tell it, -he is named Villefort." The explosion, which had been so -long restrained from a feeling of respect to the court of -justice, now burst forth like thunder from the breasts of -all present the court itself did not seek to restrain the -feelings of the audience. The exclamations, the insults -addressed to Benedetto, who remained perfectly unconcerned, -the energetic gestures, the movement of the gendarmes, the -sneers of the scum of the crowd always sure to rise to the -surface in case of any disturbance all this lasted five -minutes, before the doorkeepers and magistrates were able -to restore silence. In the midst of this tumult the voice of -the president was heard to exclaim, "Are you playing with -justice, accused, and do you dare set your fellowcitizens -an example of disorder which even in these times has never -been equalled?" -Several persons hurried up to M. de Villefort, who sat half -bowed over in his chair, offering him consolation, -encouragement, and protestations of zeal and sympathy. Order -was reestablished in the hall, except that a few people -still moved about and whispered to one another. A lady, it -was said, had just fainted they had supplied her with a -smellingbottle, and she had recovered. During the scene of -tumult, Andrea had turned his smiling face towards the -assembly then, leaning with one hand on the oaken rail of -the dock, in the most graceful attitude possible, he said -"Gentlemen, I assure you I had no idea of insulting the -court, or of making a useless disturbance in the presence of -this honorable assembly. They ask my age I tell it. They -ask where I was born I answer. They ask my name, I cannot -give it, since my parents abandoned me. But though I cannot -give my own name, not possessing one, I can tell them my -father's. Now I repeat, my father is named M. de Villefort, -and I am ready to prove it." -There was an energy, a conviction, and a sincerity in the -manner of the young man, which silenced the tumult. All eyes -were turned for a moment towards the procureur, who sat as -motionless as though a thunderbolt had changed him into a -corpse. "Gentlemen," said Andrea, commanding silence by his -voice and manner "I owe you the proofs and explanations of -what I have said." -"But," said the irritated president, "you called yourself -Benedetto, declared yourself an orphan, and claimed Corsica -as your country." -"I said anything I pleased, in order that the solemn -declaration I have just made should not be withheld, which -otherwise would certainly have been the case. I now repeat -that I was born at Auteuil on the night of the th of -September, , and that I am the son of the procureur, M. -de Villefort. Do you wish for any further details? I will -give them. I was born in No. , Rue de la Fontaine, in a -room hung with red damask my father took me in his arms, -telling my mother I was dead, wrapped me in a napkin marked -with an H and an N, and carried me into a garden, where he -buried me alive." -A shudder ran through the assembly when they saw that the -confidence of the prisoner increased in proportion to the -terror of M. de Villefort. "But how have you become -acquainted with all these details?" asked the president. -"I will tell you, Mr. President. A man who had sworn -vengeance against my father, and had long watched his -opportunity to kill him, had introduced himself that night -into the garden in which my father buried me. He was -concealed in a thicket he saw my father bury something in -the ground, and stabbed him then thinking the deposit might -contain some treasure he turned up the ground, and found me -still living. The man carried me to the foundling asylum, -where I was registered under the number . Three months -afterwards, a woman travelled from Rogliano to Paris to -fetch me, and having claimed me as her son, carried me away. -Thus, you see, though born in Paris, I was brought up in -Corsica." -There was a moment's silence, during which one could have -fancied the hall empty, so profound was the stillness. -"Proceed," said the president. -"Certainly, I might have lived happily amongst those good -people, who adored me, but my perverse disposition prevailed -over the virtues which my adopted mother endeavored to -instil into my heart. I increased in wickedness till I -committed crime. One day when I cursed providence for making -me so wicked, and ordaining me to such a fate, my adopted -father said to me, "Do not blaspheme, unhappy child, the -crime is that of your father, not yours, of your father, -who consigned you to hell if you died, and to misery if a -miracle preserved you alive.' After that I ceased to -blaspheme, but I cursed my father. That is why I have -uttered the words for which you blame me that is why I have -filled this whole assembly with horror. If I have committed -an additional crime, punish me, but if you will allow that -ever since the day of my birth my fate has been sad, bitter, -and lamentable, then pity me." -"But your mother?" asked the president. -"My mother thought me dead she is not guilty. I did not -even wish to know her name, nor do I know it." Just then a -piercing cry, ending in a sob, burst from the centre of the -crowd, who encircled the lady who had before fainted, and -who now fell into a violent fit of hysterics. She was -carried out of the hall, the thick veil which concealed her -face dropped off, and Madame Danglars was recognized. -Notwithstanding his shattered nerves, the ringing sensation -in his ears, and the madness which turned his brain, -Villefort rose as he perceived her. "The proofs, the -proofs" said the president "remember this tissue of -horrors must be supported by the clearest proofs " -"The proofs?" said Benedetto, laughing "do you want -proofs?" -"Yes." -"Well, then, look at M. de Villefort, and then ask me for -proofs." -Every one turned towards the procureur, who, unable to bear -the universal gaze now riveted on him alone, advanced -staggering into the midst of the tribunal, with his hair -dishevelled and his face indented with the mark of his -nails. The whole assembly uttered a long murmur of -astonishment. "Father," said Benedetto, "I am asked for -proofs, do you wish me to give them?" -"No, no, it is useless," stammered M. de Villefort in a -hoarse voice "no, it is useless" -"How useless?" cried the president, "what do you mean?" -"I mean that I feel it impossible to struggle against this -deadly weight which crushes me. Gentlemen, I know I am in -the hands of an avenging God We need no proofs everything -relating to this young man is true." A dull, gloomy silence, -like that which precedes some awful phenomenon of nature, -pervaded the assembly, who shuddered in dismay. "What, M. de -Villefort," cried the president, "do you yield to an -hallucination? What, are you no longer in possession of your -senses? This strange, unexpected, terrible accusation has -disordered your reason. Come, recover." -The procureur dropped his head his teeth chattered like -those of a man under a violent attack of fever, and yet he -was deadly pale. -"I am in possession of all my senses, sir," he said "my -body alone suffers, as you may suppose. I acknowledge myself -guilty of all the young man has brought against me, and from -this hour hold myself under the authority of the procureur -who will succeed me." -And as he spoke these words with a hoarse, choking voice, he -staggered towards the door, which was mechanically opened by -a doorkeeper. The whole assembly were dumb with -astonishment at the revelation and confession which had -produced a catastrophe so different from that which had been -expected during the last fortnight by the Parisian world. -"Well," said Beauchamp, "let them now say that drama is -unnatural" -"Ma foi" said ChateauRenaud, "I would rather end my career -like M. de Morcerf a pistolshot seems quite delightful -compared with this catastrophe." -"And moreover, it kills," said Beauchamp. -"And to think that I had an idea of marrying his daughter," -said Debray. "She did well to die, poor girl" -"The sitting is adjourned, gentlemen," said the president -"fresh inquiries will be made, and the case will be tried -next session by another magistrate." As for Andrea, who was -calm and more interesting than ever, he left the hall, -escorted by gendarmes, who involuntarily paid him some -attention. "Well, what do you think of this, my fine -fellow?" asked Debray of the sergeantatarms, slipping a -louis into his hand. "There will be extenuating -circumstances," he replied. -Chapter -Expiation. -Notwithstanding the density of the crowd, M. de Villefort -saw it open before him. There is something so aweinspiring -in great afflictions that even in the worst times the first -emotion of a crowd has generally been to sympathize with the -sufferer in a great catastrophe. Many people have been -assassinated in a tumult, but even criminals have rarely -been insulted during trial. Thus Villefort passed through -the mass of spectators and officers of the Palais, and -withdrew. Though he had acknowledged his guilt, he was -protected by his grief. There are some situations which men -understand by instinct, but which reason is powerless to -explain in such cases the greatest poet is he who gives -utterance to the most natural and vehement outburst of -sorrow. Those who hear the bitter cry are as much impressed -as if they listened to an entire poem, and when the sufferer -is sincere they are right in regarding his outburst as -sublime. -It would be difficult to describe the state of stupor in -which Villefort left the Palais. Every pulse beat with -feverish excitement, every nerve was strained, every vein -swollen, and every part of his body seemed to suffer -distinctly from the rest, thus multiplying his agony a -thousandfold. He made his way along the corridors through -force of habit he threw aside his magisterial robe, not out -of deference to etiquette, but because it was an unbearable -burden, a veritable garb of Nessus, insatiate in torture. -Having staggered as far as the Rue Dauphine, he perceived -his carriage, awoke his sleeping coachman by opening the -door himself, threw himself on the cushions, and pointed -towards the Faubourg SaintHonore the carriage drove on. -The weight of his fallen fortunes seemed suddenly to crush -him he could not foresee the consequences he could not -contemplate the future with the indifference of the hardened -criminal who merely faces a contingency already familiar. -God was still in his heart. "God," he murmured, not knowing -what he said, "God God" Behind the event that had -overwhelmed him he saw the hand of God. The carriage rolled -rapidly onward. Villefort, while turning restlessly on the -cushions, felt something press against him. He put out his -hand to remove the object it was a fan which Madame de -Villefort had left in the carriage this fan awakened a -recollection which darted through his mind like lightning. -He thought of his wife. -"Oh" he exclaimed, as though a redhot iron were piercing -his heart. During the last hour his own crime had alone been -presented to his mind now another object, not less -terrible, suddenly presented itself. His wife He had just -acted the inexorable judge with her, he had condemned her to -death, and she, crushed by remorse, struck with terror, -covered with the shame inspired by the eloquence of his -irreproachable virtue, she, a poor, weak woman, without -help or the power of defending herself against his absolute -and supreme will, she might at that very moment, perhaps, -be preparing to die An hour had elapsed since her -condemnation at that moment, doubtless, she was recalling -all her crimes to her memory she was asking pardon for her -sins perhaps she was even writing a letter imploring -forgiveness from her virtuous husband a forgiveness she -was purchasing with her death Villefort again groaned with -anguish and despair. "Ah," he exclaimed, "that woman became -criminal only from associating with me I carried the -infection of crime with me, and she has caught it as she -would the typhus fever, the cholera, the plague And yet I -have punished her I have dared to tell her I have -"Repent and die' But no, she must not die she shall live, -and with me. We will flee from Paris and go as far as the -earth reaches. I told her of the scaffold oh, heavens, I -forgot that it awaits me also How could I pronounce that -word? Yes, we will fly I will confess all to her, I will -tell her daily that I also have committed a crime Oh, -what an alliance the tiger and the serpent worthy wife -of such as I am She must live that my infamy may diminish -hers." And Villefort dashed open the window in front of the -carriage. -"Faster, faster" he cried, in a tone which electrified the -coachman. The horses, impelled by fear, flew towards the -house. -"Yes, yes," repeated Villefort, as he approached his home -"yes, that woman must live she must repent, and educate my -son, the sole survivor, with the exception of the -indestructible old man, of the wreck of my house. She loves -him it was for his sake she has committed these crimes. We -ought never to despair of softening the heart of a mother -who loves her child. She will repent, and no one will know -that she has been guilty. The events which have taken place -in my house, though they now occupy the public mind, will be -forgotten in time, or if, indeed, a few enemies should -persist in remembering them, why then I will add them to my -list of crimes. What will it signify if one, two, or three -more are added? My wife and child shall escape from this -gulf, carrying treasures with them she will live and may -yet be happy, since her child, in whom all her love is -centred, will be with her. I shall have performed a good -action, and my heart will be lighter." And the procureur -breathed more freely than he had done for some time. -The carriage stopped at the door of the house. Villefort -leaped out of the carriage, and saw that his servants were -surprised at his early return he could read no other -expression on their features. Neither of them spoke to him -they merely stood aside to let him pass by, as usual, -nothing more. As he passed by M. Noirtier's room, he -perceived two figures through the halfopen door but he -experienced no curiosity to know who was visiting his -father anxiety carried him on further. -"Come," he said, as he ascended the stairs leading to his -wife's room, "nothing is changed here." He then closed the -door of the landing. "No one must disturb us," he said "I -must speak freely to her, accuse myself, and say" he -approached the door, touched the crystal handle, which -yielded to his hand. "Not locked," he cried "that is well." -And he entered the little room in which Edward slept for -though the child went to school during the day, his mother -could not allow him to be separated from her at night. With -a single glance Villefort's eye ran through the room. "Not -here," he said "doubtless she is in her bedroom." He rushed -towards the door, found it bolted, and stopped, shuddering. -"Heloise" he cried. He fancied he heard the sound of a -piece of furniture being removed. "Heloise" he repeated. -"Who is there?" answered the voice of her he sought. He -thought that voice more feeble than usual. -"Open the door" cried Villefort. "Open it is I." But -notwithstanding this request, notwithstanding the tone of -anguish in which it was uttered, the door remained closed. -Villefort burst it open with a violent blow. At the entrance -of the room which led to her boudoir, Madame de Villefort -was standing erect, pale, her features contracted, and her -eyes glaring horribly. "Heloise, Heloise" he said, "what is -the matter? Speak" The young woman extended her stiff white -hands towards him. "It is done, monsieur," she said with a -rattling noise which seemed to tear her throat. "What more -do you want?" and she fell full length on the floor. -Villefort ran to her and seized her hand, which convulsively -clasped a crystal bottle with a golden stopper. Madame de -Villefort was dead. Villefort, maddened with horror, stepped -back to the threshhold of the door, fixing his eyes on the -corpse "My son" he exclaimed suddenly, "where is my son? -Edward, Edward" and he rushed out of the room, still -crying, "Edward, Edward" The name was pronounced in such a -tone of anguish that the servants ran up. -"Where is my son?" asked Villefort "let him be removed from -the house, that he may not see" -"Master Edward is not downstairs, sir," replied the valet. -"Then he must be playing in the garden go and see." -"No, sir Madame de Villefort sent for him half an hour ago -he went into her room, and has not been downstairs since." -A cold perspiration burst out on Villefort's brow his legs -trembled, and his thoughts flew about madly in his brain -like the wheels of a disordered watch. "In Madame de -Villefort's room?" he murmured and slowly returned, with one -hand wiping his forehead, and with the other supporting -himself against the wall. To enter the room he must again -see the body of his unfortunate wife. To call Edward he must -reawaken the echo of that room which now appeared like a -sepulchre to speak seemed like violating the silence of the -tomb. His tongue was paralyzed in his mouth. -"Edward" he stammered "Edward" The child did not -answer. Where, then, could he be, if he had entered his -mother's room and not since returned? He stepped forward. -The corpse of Madame de Villefort was stretched across the -doorway leading to the room in which Edward must be those -glaring eyes seemed to watch over the threshold, and the -lips bore the stamp of a terrible and mysterious irony. -Through the open door was visible a portion of the boudoir, -containing an upright piano and a blue satin couch. -Villefort stepped forward two or three paces, and beheld his -child lying no doubt asleep on the sofa. The unhappy -man uttered an exclamation of joy a ray of light seemed to -penetrate the abyss of despair and darkness. He had only to -step over the corpse, enter the boudoir, take the child in -his arms, and flee far, far away. -Villefort was no longer the civilized man he was a tiger -hurt unto death, gnashing his teeth in his wound. He no -longer feared realities, but phantoms. He leaped over the -corpse as if it had been a burning brazier. He took the -child in his arms, embraced him, shook him, called him, but -the child made no response. He pressed his burning lips to -the cheeks, but they were icy cold and pale he felt the -stiffened limbs he pressed his hand upon the heart, but it -no longer beat, the child was dead. A folded paper fell -from Edward's breast. Villefort, thunderstruck, fell upon -his knees the child dropped from his arms, and rolled on -the floor by the side of its mother. He picked up the paper, -and, recognizing his wife's writing, ran his eyes rapidly -over its contents it ran as follows -"You know that I was a good mother, since it was for my -son's sake I became criminal. A good mother cannot depart -without her son." -Villefort could not believe his eyes, he could not -believe his reason he dragged himself towards the child's -body, and examined it as a lioness contemplates its dead -cub. Then a piercing cry escaped from his breast, and he -cried, "Still the hand of God." The presence of the two -victims alarmed him he could not bear solitude shared only -by two corpses. Until then he had been sustained by rage, by -his strength of mind, by despair, by the supreme agony which -led the Titans to scale the heavens, and Ajax to defy the -gods. He now arose, his head bowed beneath the weight of -grief, and, shaking his damp, dishevelled hair, he who had -never felt compassion for any one determined to seek his -father, that he might have some one to whom he could relate -his misfortunes, some one by whose side he might weep. He -descended the little staircase with which we are acquainted, -and entered Noirtier's room. The old man appeared to be -listening attentively and as affectionately as his -infirmities would allow to the Abbe Busoni, who looked cold -and calm, as usual. Villefort, perceiving the abbe, passed -his hand across his brow. He recollected the call he had -made upon him after the dinner at Auteuil, and then the -visit the abbe had himself paid to his house on the day of -Valentine's death. "You here, sir" he exclaimed "do you, -then, never appear but to act as an escort to death?" -Busoni turned around, and, perceiving the excitement -depicted on the magistrate's face, the savage lustre of his -eyes, he understood that the revelation had been made at the -assizes but beyond this he was ignorant. "I came to pray -over the body of your daughter." -"And now why are you here?" -"I come to tell you that you have sufficiently repaid your -debt, and that from this moment I will pray to God to -forgive you, as I do." -"Good heavens" exclaimed Villefort, stepping back -fearfully, "surely that is not the voice of the Abbe -Busoni" -"No" The abbe threw off his wig, shook his head, and his -hair, no longer confined, fell in black masses around his -manly face. -"It is the face of the Count of Monte Cristo" exclaimed the -procureur, with a haggard expression. -"You are not exactly right, M. Procureur you must go -farther back." -"That voice, that voice where did I first hear it?" -"You heard it for the first time at Marseilles, twentythree -years ago, the day of your marriage with Mademoiselle de -SaintMeran. Refer to your papers." -"You are not Busoni? you are not Monte Cristo? Oh, -heavens you are, then, some secret, implacable, and -mortal enemy I must have wronged you in some way at -Marseilles. Oh, woe to me" -"Yes you are now on the right path," said the count, -crossing his arms over his broad chest "search search" -"But what have I done to you?" exclaimed Villefort, whose -mind was balancing between reason and insanity, in that -cloud which is neither a dream nor reality "what have I -done to you? Tell me, then Speak" -"You condemned me to a horrible, tedious death you killed -my father you deprived me of liberty, of love, and -happiness." -"Who are you, then? Who are you?" -"I am the spectre of a wretch you buried in the dungeons of -the Chateau d'If. God gave that spectre the form of the -Count of Monte Cristo when he at length issued from his -tomb, enriched him with gold and diamonds, and led him to -you" -"Ah, I recognize you I recognize you" exclaimed the -king's attorney "you are" -"I am Edmond Dantes" -"You are Edmond Dantes," cried Villefort, seizing the count -by the wrist "then come here" And up the stairs he dragged -Monte Cristo who, ignorant of what had happened, followed -him in astonishment, foreseeing some new catastrophe. -"There, Edmond Dantes" he said, pointing to the bodies of -his wife and child, "see, are you well avenged?" Monte -Cristo became pale at this horrible sight he felt that he -had passed beyond the bounds of vengeance, and that he could -no longer say, "God is for and with me." With an expression -of indescribable anguish he threw himself upon the body of -the child, reopened its eyes, felt its pulse, and then -rushed with him into Valentine's room, of which he -doublelocked the door. "My child," cried Villefort, "he -carries away the body of my child Oh, curses, woe, death to -you" and he tried to follow Monte Cristo but as though in -a dream he was transfixed to the spot, his eyes glared as -though they were starting through the sockets he griped the -flesh on his chest until his nails were stained with blood -the veins of his temples swelled and boiled as though they -would burst their narrow boundary, and deluge his brain with -living fire. This lasted several minutes, until the -frightful overturn of reason was accomplished then uttering -a loud cry followed by a burst of laughter, he rushed down -the stairs. -A quarter of an hour afterwards the door of Valentine's room -opened, and Monte Cristo reappeared. Pale, with a dull eye -and heavy heart, all the noble features of that face, -usually so calm and serene, were overcast by grief. In his -arms he held the child, whom no skill had been able to -recall to life. Bending on one knee, he placed it reverently -by the side of its mother, with its head upon her breast. -Then, rising, he went out, and meeting a servant on the -stairs, he asked, "Where is M. de Villefort?" -The servant, instead of answering, pointed to the garden. -Monte Cristo ran down the steps, and advancing towards the -spot designated beheld Villefort, encircled by his servants, -with a spade in his hand, and digging the earth with fury. -"It is not here" he cried. "It is not here" And then he -moved farther on, and began again to dig. -Monte Cristo approached him, and said in a low voice, with -an expression almost humble, "Sir, you have indeed lost a -son but" -Villefort interrupted him he had neither listened nor -heard. "Oh, I will find it," he cried "you may pretend he -is not here, but I will find him, though I dig forever" -Monte Cristo drew back in horror. "Oh," he said, "he is -mad" And as though he feared that the walls of the accursed -house would crumble around him, he rushed into the street, -for the first time doubting whether he had the right to do -as he had done. "Oh, enough of this, enough of this," he -cried "let me save the last." On entering his house, he met -Morrel, who wandered about like a ghost awaiting the -heavenly mandate for return to the tomb. "Prepare yourself, -Maximilian," he said with a smile "we leave Paris -tomorrow." -"Have you nothing more to do there?" asked Morrel. -"No," replied Monte Cristo "God grant I may not have done -too much already." -The next day they indeed left, accompanied only by -Baptistin. Haidee had taken away Ali, and Bertuccio remained -with Noirtier. -Chapter -The Departure. -The recent event formed the theme of conversation throughout -all Paris. Emmanuel and his wife conversed with natural -astonishment in their little apartment in the Rue Meslay -upon the three successive, sudden, and most unexpected -catastrophes of Morcerf, Danglars, and Villefort. -Maximilian, who was paying them a visit, listened to their -conversation, or rather was present at it, plunged in his -accustomed state of apathy. "Indeed," said Julie, "might we -not almost fancy, Emmanuel, that those people, so rich, so -happy but yesterday, had forgotten in their prosperity that -an evil genius like the wicked fairies in Perrault's -stories who present themselves unbidden at a wedding or -baptism hovered over them, and appeared all at once to -revenge himself for their fatal neglect?" -"What a dire misfortune" said Emmanuel, thinking of Morcerf -and Danglars. -"What dreadful sufferings" said Julie, remembering -Valentine, but whom, with a delicacy natural to women, she -did not name before her brother. -"If the Supreme Being has directed the fatal blow," said -Emmanuel, "it must be that he in his great goodness has -perceived nothing in the past lives of these people to merit -mitigation of their awful punishment." -"Do you not form a very rash judgment, Emmanuel?" said -Julie. "When my father, with a pistol in his hand, was once -on the point of committing suicide, had any one then said, -"This man deserves his misery,' would not that person have -been deceived?" -"Yes but your father was not allowed to fall. A being was -commissioned to arrest the fatal hand of death about to -descend on him." -Emmanuel had scarcely uttered these words when the sound of -the bell was heard, the wellknown signal given by the -porter that a visitor had arrived. Nearly at the same -instant the door was opened and the Count of Monte Cristo -appeared on the threshold. The young people uttered a cry of -joy, while Maximilian raised his head, but let it fall again -immediately. "Maximilian," said the count, without appearing -to notice the different impressions which his presence -produced on the little circle, "I come to seek you." -"To seek me?" repeated Morrel, as if awakening from a dream. -"Yes," said Monte Cristo "has it not been agreed that I -should take you with me, and did I not tell you yesterday to -prepare for departure?" -"I am ready," said Maximilian "I came expressly to wish -them farewell." -"Whither are you going, count?" asked Julie. -"In the first instance to Marseilles, madame." -"To Marseilles" exclaimed the young couple. -"Yes, and I take your brother with me." -"Oh, count." said Julie, "will you restore him to us cured -of his melancholy?" Morrel turned away to conceal the -confusion of his countenance. -"You perceive, then, that he is not happy?" said the count. -"Yes," replied the young woman "and fear much that he finds -our home but a dull one." -"I will undertake to divert him," replied the count. -"I am ready to accompany you, sir," said Maximilian. "Adieu, -my kind friends Emmanuel Julie farewell" -"How farewell?" exclaimed Julie "do you leave us thus, so -suddenly, without any preparations for your journey, without -even a passport?" -"Needless delays but increase the grief of parting," said -Monte Cristo, "and Maximilian has doubtless provided himself -with everything requisite at least, I advised him to do -so." -"I have a passport, and my clothes are ready packed," said -Morrel in his tranquil but mournful manner. -"Good," said Monte Cristo, smiling "in these prompt -arrangements we recognize the order of a welldisciplined -soldier." -"And you leave us," said Julie, "at a moment's warning? you -do not give us a day no, not even an hour before your -departure?" -"My carriage is at the door, madame, and I must be in Rome -in five days." -"But does Maximilian go to Rome?" exclaimed Emmanuel. -"I am going wherever it may please the count to take me," -said Morrel, with a smile full of grief "I am under his -orders for the next month." -"Oh, heavens, how strangely he expresses himself, count" -said Julie. -"Maximilian goes with me," said the count, in his kindest -and most persuasive manner "therefore do not make yourself -uneasy on your brother's account." -"Once more farewell, my dear sister Emmanuel, adieu" -Morrel repeated. -"His carelessness and indifference touch me to the heart," -said Julie. "Oh, Maximilian, Maximilian, you are certainly -concealing something from us." -"Pshaw" said Monte Cristo, "you will see him return to you -gay, smiling, and joyful." -Maximilian cast a look of disdain, almost of anger, on the -count. -"We must leave you," said Monte Cristo. -"Before you quit us, count," said Julie, "will you permit us -to express to you all that the other day" -"Madame," interrupted the count, taking her two hands in -his, "all that you could say in words would never express -what I read in your eyes the thoughts of your heart are -fully understood by mine. Like benefactors in romances, I -should have left you without seeing you again, but that -would have been a virtue beyond my strength, because I am a -weak and vain man, fond of the tender, kind, and thankful -glances of my fellowcreatures. On the eve of departure I -carry my egotism so far as to say, "Do not forget me, my -kind friends, for probably you will never see me again.'" -"Never see you again?" exclaimed Emmanuel, while two large -tears rolled down Julie's cheeks, "never behold you again? -It is not a man, then, but some angel that leaves us, and -this angel is on the point of returning to heaven after -having appeared on earth to do good." -"Say not so," quickly returned Monte Cristo "say not so, -my friends angels never err, celestial beings remain where -they wish to be. Fate is not more powerful than they it is -they who, on the contrary, overcome fate. No, Emmanuel, I am -but a man, and your admiration is as unmerited as your words -are sacrilegious." And pressing his lips on the hand of -Julie, who rushed into his arms, he extended his other hand -to Emmanuel then tearing himself from this abode of peace -and happiness, he made a sign to Maximilian, who followed -him passively, with the indifference which had been -perceptible in him ever since the death of Valentine had so -stunned him. "Restore my brother to peace and happiness," -whispered Julie to Monte Cristo. And the count pressed her -hand in reply, as he had done eleven years before on the -staircase leading to Morrel's study. -"You still confide, then, in Sinbad the Sailor?" asked he, -smiling. -"Oh, yes," was the ready answer. -"Well, then, sleep in peace, and put your trust in heaven." -As we have before said, the postchaise was waiting four -powerful horses were already pawing the ground with -impatience, while Ali, apparently just arrived from a long -walk, was standing at the foot of the steps, his face bathed -in perspiration. "Well," asked the count in Arabic, "have -you been to see the old man?" Ali made a sign in the -affirmative. -"And have you placed the letter before him, as I ordered you -to do?" -The slave respectfully signalized that he had. "And what did -he say, or rather do?" Ali placed himself in the light, so -that his master might see him distinctly, and then imitating -in his intelligent manner the countenance of the old man, he -closed his eyes, as Noirtier was in the custom of doing when -saying "Yes." -"Good he accepts," said Monte Cristo. "Now let us go." -These words had scarcely escaped him, when the carriage was -on its way, and the feet of the horses struck a shower of -sparks from the pavement. Maximilian settled himself in his -corner without uttering a word. Half an hour had passed when -the carriage stopped suddenly the count had just pulled the -silken checkstring, which was fastened to Ali's finger. The -Nubian immediately descended and opened the carriage door. -It was a lovely starlight night they had just reached the -top of the hill Villejuif, from whence Paris appears like a -sombre sea tossing its millions of phosphoric waves into -light waves indeed more noisy, more passionate, more -changeable, more furious, more greedy, than those of the -tempestuous ocean, waves which never rest as those of the -sea sometimes do, waves ever dashing, ever foaming, ever -ingulfing what falls within their grasp. The count stood -alone, and at a sign from his hand, the carriage went on for -a short distance. With folded arms, he gazed for some time -upon the great city. When he had fixed his piercing look on -this modern Babylon, which equally engages the contemplation -of the religious enthusiast, the materialist, and the -scoffer, "Great city," murmured he, inclining his head, -and joining his hands as if in prayer, "less than six months -have elapsed since first I entered thy gates. I believe that -the Spirit of God led my steps to thee and that he also -enables me to quit thee in triumph the secret cause of my -presence within thy walls I have confided alone to him who -only has had the power to read my heart. God only knows that -I retire from thee without pride or hatred, but not without -many regrets he only knows that the power confided to me -has never been made subservient to my personal good or to -any useless cause. Oh, great city, it is in thy palpitating -bosom that I have found that which I sought like a patient -miner, I have dug deep into thy very entrails to root out -evil thence. Now my work is accomplished, my mission is -terminated, now thou canst neither afford me pain nor -pleasure. Adieu, Paris, adieu" -His look wandered over the vast plain like that of some -genius of the night he passed his hand over his brow, got -into the carriage, the door was closed on him, and the -vehicle quickly disappeared down the other side of the hill -in a whirlwind of noise and dust. -Ten leagues were passed and not a single word was uttered. -Morrel was dreaming, and Monte Cristo was looking at the -dreamer. -"Morrel," said the count to him at length, "do you repent -having followed me?" -"No, count but to leave Paris" -"If I thought happiness might await you in Paris, Morrel, I -would have left you there." -"Valentine reposes within the walls of Paris, and to leave -Paris is like losing her a second time." -"Maximilian," said the count, "the friends that we have lost -do not repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep -in our hearts, and it has been thus ordained that we may -always be accompanied by them. I have two friends, who in -this way never depart from me the one who gave me being, -and the other who conferred knowledge and intelligence on -me. Their spirits live in me. I consult them when doubtful, -and if I ever do any good, it is due to their beneficent -counsels. Listen to the voice of your heart, Morrel, and ask -it whether you ought to preserve this melancholy exterior -towards me." -"My friend," said Maximilian, "the voice of my heart is very -sorrowful, and promises me nothing but misfortune." -"It is the way of weakened minds to see everything through a -black cloud. The soul forms its own horizons your soul is -darkened, and consequently the sky of the future appears -stormy and unpromising." -"That may possibly be true," said Maximilian, and he again -subsided into his thoughtful mood. -The journey was performed with that marvellous rapidity -which the unlimited power of the count ever commanded. Towns -fled from them like shadows on their path, and trees shaken -by the first winds of autumn seemed like giants madly -rushing on to meet them, and retreating as rapidly when once -reached. The following morning they arrived at Chalons, -where the count's steamboat waited for them. Without the -loss of an instant, the carriage was placed on board and the -two travellers embarked without delay. The boat was built -for speed her two paddlewheels were like two wings with -which she skimmed the water like a bird. Morrel was not -insensible to that sensation of delight which is generally -experienced in passing rapidly through the air, and the wind -which occasionally raised the hair from his forehead seemed -on the point of dispelling momentarily the clouds collected -there. -As the distance increased between the travellers and Paris, -almost superhuman serenity appeared to surround the count -he might have been taken for an exile about to revisit his -native land. Ere long Marseilles presented herself to view, -Marseilles, white, fervid, full of life and energy, -Marseilles, the younger sister of Tyre and Carthage, the -successor to them in the empire of the Mediterranean, -Marseilles, old, yet always young. Powerful memories were -stirred within them by the sight of the round tower, Fort -SaintNicolas, the City Hall designed by Puget, the port -with its brick quays, where they had both played in -childhood, and it was with one accord that they stopped on -the Cannebiere. A vessel was setting sail for Algiers, on -board of which the bustle usually attending departure -prevailed. The passengers and their relations crowded on the -deck, friends taking a tender but sorrowful leave of each -other, some weeping, others noisy in their grief, the whole -forming a spectacle that might be exciting even to those who -witnessed similar sights daily, but which had no power to -disturb the current of thought that had taken possession of -the mind of Maximilian from the moment he had set foot on -the broad pavement of the quay. - Pierre Puget, the sculptorarchitect, was born at -Marseilles in . -"Here," said he, leaning heavily on the arm of Monte Cristo, -"here is the spot where my father stopped, when the -Pharaon entered the port it was here that the good old man, -whom you saved from death and dishonor, threw himself into -my arms. I yet feel his warm tears on my face, and his were -not the only tears shed, for many who witnessed our meeting -wept also." Monte Cristo gently smiled and said, "I was -there" at the same time pointing to the corner of a street. -As he spoke, and in the very direction he indicated, a -groan, expressive of bitter grief, was heard, and a woman -was seen waving her hand to a passenger on board the vessel -about to sail. Monte Cristo looked at her with an emotion -that must have been remarked by Morrel had not his eyes been -fixed on the vessel. -"Oh, heavens" exclaimed Morrel, "I do not deceive myself -that young man who is waving his hat, that youth in the -uniform of a lieutenant, is Albert de Morcerf" -"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "I recognized him." -"How so? you were looking the other way." the count -smiled, as he was in the habit of doing when he did not want -to make any reply, and he again turned towards the veiled -woman, who soon disappeared at the corner of the street. -Turning to his friend, "Dear Maximilian," said the count, -"have you nothing to do in this land?" -"I have to weep over the grave of my father," replied Morrel -in a broken voice. -"Well, then, go, wait for me there, and I will soon join -you." -"You leave me, then?" -"Yes I also have a pious visit to pay." -Morrel allowed his hand to fall into that which the count -extended to him then with an inexpressibly sorrowful -inclination of the head he quitted the count and bent his -steps to the east of the city. Monte Cristo remained on the -same spot until Maximilian was out of sight he then walked -slowly towards the Allees de Meillan to seek out a small -house with which our readers were made familiar at the -beginning of this story. It yet stood, under the shade of -the fine avenue of limetrees, which forms one of the most -frequent walks of the idlers of Marseilles, covered by an -immense vine, which spreads its aged and blackened branches -over the stone front, burnt yellow by the ardent sun of the -south. Two stone steps worn away by the friction of many -feet led to the door, which was made of three planks the -door had never been painted or varnished, so great cracks -yawned in it during the dry season to close again when the -rains came on. The house, with all its crumbling antiquity -and apparent misery, was yet cheerful and picturesque, and -was the same that old Dantes formerly inhabited the only -difference being that the old man occupied merely the -garret, while the whole house was now placed at the command -of Mercedes by the count. -The woman whom the count had seen leave the ship with so -much regret entered this house she had scarcely closed the -door after her when Monte Cristo appeared at the corner of a -street, so that he found and lost her again almost at the -same instant. The worn out steps were old acquaintances of -his he knew better than any one else how to open that -weatherbeaten door with the large headed nail which served -to raise the latch within. He entered without knocking, or -giving any other intimation of his presence, as if he had -been a friend or the master of the place. At the end of a -passage paved with bricks, was a little garden, bathed in -sunshine, and rich in warmth and light. In this garden -Mercedes had found, at the place indicated by the count, the -sum of money which he, through a sense of delicacy, had -described as having been placed there twentyfour years -previously. The trees of the garden were easily seen from -the steps of the streetdoor. Monte Cristo, on stepping into -the house, heard a sigh that was almost a deep sob he -looked in the direction whence it came, and there under an -arbor of Virginia jessamine, with its thick foliage and -beautiful long purple flowers, he saw Mercedes seated, with -her head bowed, and weeping bitterly. She had raised her -veil, and with her face hidden by her hands was giving free -scope to the sighs and tears which had been so long -restrained by the presence of her son. Monte Cristo advanced -a few steps, which were heard on the gravel. Mercedes raised -her head, and uttered a cry of terror on beholding a man -before her. - The Carolina not Virginia jessamine, gelsemium -sempervirens properly speaking not a jessamine at all has -yellow blossoms. The reference is no doubt to the Wistaria -frutescens. Ed. -"Madame," said the count, "it is no longer in my power to -restore you to happiness, but I offer you consolation will -you deign to accept it as coming from a friend?" -"I am, indeed, most wretched," replied Mercedes. "Alone in -the world, I had but my son, and he has left me" -"He possesses a noble heart, madame," replied the count, -"and he has acted rightly. He feels that every man owes a -tribute to his country some contribute their talents, -others their industry these devote their blood, those their -nightly labors, to the same cause. Had he remained with you, -his life must have become a hateful burden, nor would he -have participated in your griefs. He will increase in -strength and honor by struggling with adversity, which he -will convert into prosperity. Leave him to build up the -future for you, and I venture to say you will confide it to -safe hands." -"Oh," replied the wretched woman, mournfully shaking her -head, "the prosperity of which you speak, and which, from -the bottom of my heart, I pray God in his mercy to grant -him, I can never enjoy. The bitter cup of adversity has been -drained by me to the very dregs, and I feel that the grave -is not far distant. You have acted kindly, count, in -bringing me back to the place where I have enjoyed so much -bliss. I ought to meet death on the same spot where -happiness was once all my own." -"Alas," said Monte Cristo, "your words sear and embitter my -heart, the more so as you have every reason to hate me. I -have been the cause of all your misfortunes but why do you -pity, instead of blaming me? You render me still more -unhappy" -"Hate you, blame you you, Edmond Hate, reproach, the man -that has spared my son's life For was it not your fatal and -sanguinary intention to destroy that son of whom M. de -Morcerf was so proud? Oh, look at me closely, and discover -if you can even the semblance of a reproach in me." The -count looked up and fixed his eyes on Mercedes, who arose -partly from her seat and extended both her hands towards -him. "Oh, look at me," continued she, with a feeling of -profound melancholy, "my eyes no longer dazzle by their -brilliancy, for the time has long fled since I used to smile -on Edmond Dantes, who anxiously looked out for me from the -window of yonder garret, then inhabited by his old father. -Years of grief have created an abyss between those days and -the present. I neither reproach you nor hate you, my friend. -Oh, no, Edmond, it is myself that I blame, myself that I -hate Oh, miserable creature that I am" cried she, clasping -her hands, and raising her eyes to heaven. "I once possessed -piety, innocence, and love, the three ingredients of the -happiness of angels, and now what am I?" Monte Cristo -approached her, and silently took her hand. "No," said she, -withdrawing it gently "no, my friend, touch me not. You -have spared me, yet of all those who have fallen under your -vengeance I was the most guilty. They were influenced by -hatred, by avarice, and by selflove but I was base, and -for want of courage acted against my judgment. Nay, do not -press my hand, Edmond you are thinking, I am sure, of some -kind speech to console me, but do not utter it to me, -reserve it for others more worthy of your kindness. See" -and she exposed her face completely to view "see, -misfortune has silvered my hair, my eyes have shed so many -tears that they are encircled by a rim of purple, and my -brow is wrinkled. You, Edmond, on the contrary, you are -still young, handsome, dignified it is because you have had -faith because you have had strength, because you have had -trust in God, and God has sustained you. But as for me, I -have been a coward I have denied God and he has abandoned -me." -Mercedes burst into tears her woman's heart was breaking -under its load of memories. Monte Cristo took her hand and -imprinted a kiss on it but she herself felt that it was a -kiss of no greater warmth than he would have bestowed on the -hand of some marble statue of a saint. "It often happens," -continued she, "that a first fault destroys the prospects of -a whole life. I believed you dead why did I survive you? -What good has it done me to mourn for you eternally in the -secret recesses of my heart? only to make a woman of -thirtynine look like a woman of fifty. Why, having -recognized you, and I the only one to do so why was I -able to save my son alone? Ought I not also to have rescued -the man that I had accepted for a husband, guilty though he -were? Yet I let him die What do I say? Oh, merciful -heavens, was I not accessory to his death by my supine -insensibility, by my contempt for him, not remembering, or -not willing to remember, that it was for my sake he had -become a traitor and a perjurer? In what am I benefited by -accompanying my son so far, since I now abandon him, and -allow him to depart alone to the baneful climate of Africa? -Oh, I have been base, cowardly, I tell you I have abjured -my affections, and like all renegades I am of evil omen to -those who surround me" -"No, Mercedes," said Monte Cristo, "no you judge yourself -with too much severity. You are a nobleminded woman, and it -was your grief that disarmed me. Still I was but an agent, -led on by an invisible and offended Deity, who chose not to -withhold the fatal blow that I was destined to hurl. I take -that God to witness, at whose feet I have prostrated myself -daily for the last ten years, that I would have sacrificed -my life to you, and with my life the projects that were -indissolubly linked with it. But and I say it with some -pride, Mercedes God needed me, and I lived. Examine the -past and the present, and endeavor to dive into futurity, -and then say whether I am not a divine instrument. The most -dreadful misfortunes, the most frightful sufferings, the -abandonment of all those who loved me, the persecution of -those who did not know me, formed the trials of my youth -when suddenly, from captivity, solitude, misery, I was -restored to light and liberty, and became the possessor of a -fortune so brilliant, so unbounded, so unheardof, that I -must have been blind not to be conscious that God had -endowed me with it to work out his own great designs. From -that time I looked upon this fortune as something confided -to me for an especial purpose. Not a thought was given to a -life which you once, Mercedes, had the power to render -blissful not one hour of peaceful calm was mine but I felt -myself driven on like an exterminating angel. Like -adventurous captains about to embark on some enterprise full -of danger, I laid in my provisions, I loaded my weapons, I -collected every means of attack and defence I inured my -body to the most violent exercises, my soul to the bitterest -trials I taught my arm to slay, my eyes to behold -excruciating sufferings, and my mouth to smile at the most -horrid spectacles. Goodnatured, confiding, and forgiving as -I had been, I became revengeful, cunning, and wicked, or -rather, immovable as fate. Then I launched out into the path -that was opened to me. I overcame every obstacle, and -reached the goal but woe to those who stood in my pathway" -"Enough," said Mercedes "enough, Edmond Believe me, that -she who alone recognized you has been the only one to -comprehend you and had she crossed your path, and you had -crushed her like glass, still, Edmond, still she must have -admired you Like the gulf between me and the past, there is -an abyss between you, Edmond, and the rest of mankind and I -tell you freely that the comparison I draw between you and -other men will ever be one of my greatest tortures. No, -there is nothing in the world to resemble you in worth and -goodness But we must say farewell, Edmond, and let us -part." -"Before I leave you, Mercedes, have you no request to make?" -said the count. -"I desire but one thing in this world, Edmond, the -happiness of my son." -"Pray to the Almighty to spare his life, and I will take -upon myself to promote his happiness." -"Thank you, Edmond." -"But have you no request to make for yourself, Mercedes?" -"For myself I want nothing. I live, as it were, between two -graves. One is that of Edmond Dantes, lost to me long, long -since. He had my love That word ill becomes my faded lip -now, but it is a memory dear to my heart, and one that I -would not lose for all that the world contains. The other -grave is that of the man who met his death from the hand of -Edmond Dantes. I approve of the deed, but I must pray for -the dead." -"Your son shall be happy, Mercedes," repeated the count. -"Then I shall enjoy as much happiness as this world can -possibly confer." -"But what are your intentions?" -"To say that I shall live here, like the Mercedes of other -times, gaining my bread by labor, would not be true, nor -would you believe me. I have no longer the strength to do -anything but to spend my days in prayer. However, I shall -have no occasion to work, for the little sum of money buried -by you, and which I found in the place you mentioned, will -be sufficient to maintain me. Rumor will probably be busy -respecting me, my occupations, my manner of living that -will signify but little." -"Mercedes," said the count, "I do not say it to blame you, -but you made an unnecessary sacrifice in relinquishing the -whole of the fortune amassed by M. de Morcerf half of it at -least by right belonged to you, in virtue of your vigilance -and economy." -"I perceive what you are intending to propose to me but I -cannot accept it, Edmond my son would not permit it." -"Nothing shall be done without the full approbation of -Albert de Morcerf. I will make myself acquainted with his -intentions and will submit to them. But if he be willing to -accept my offers, will you oppose them?" -"You well know, Edmond, that I am no longer a reasoning -creature I have no will, unless it be the will never to -decide. I have been so overwhelmed by the many storms that -have broken over my head, that I am become passive in the -hands of the Almighty, like a sparrow in the talons of an -eagle. I live, because it is not ordained for me to die. If -succor be sent to me, I will accept it." -"Ah, madame," said Monte Cristo, "you should not talk thus -It is not so we should evince our resignation to the will of -heaven on the contrary, we are all free agents." -"Alas" exclaimed Mercedes, "if it were so, if I possessed -freewill, but without the power to render that will -efficacious, it would drive me to despair." Monte Cristo -dropped his head and shrank from the vehemence of her grief. -"Will you not even say you will see me again?" he asked. -"On the contrary, we shall meet again," said Mercedes, -pointing to heaven with solemnity. "I tell you so to prove -to you that I still hope." And after pressing her own -trembling hand upon that of the count, Mercedes rushed up -the stairs and disappeared. Monte Cristo slowly left the -house and turned towards the quay. But Mercedes did not -witness his departure, although she was seated at the little -window of the room which had been occupied by old Dantes. -Her eyes were straining to see the ship which was carrying -her son over the vast sea but still her voice involuntarily -murmured softly, "Edmond, Edmond, Edmond" -Chapter -The Past. -The count departed with a sad heart from the house in which -he had left Mercedes, probably never to behold her again. -Since the death of little Edward a great change had taken -place in Monte Cristo. Having reached the summit of his -vengeance by a long and tortuous path, he saw an abyss of -doubt yawning before him. More than this, the conversation -which had just taken place between Mercedes and himself had -awakened so many recollections in his heart that he felt it -necessary to combat with them. A man of the count's -temperament could not long indulge in that melancholy which -can exist in common minds, but which destroys superior ones. -He thought he must have made an error in his calculations if -he now found cause to blame himself. -"I cannot have deceived myself," he said "I must look upon -the past in a false light. What" he continued, "can I have -been following a false path? can the end which I proposed -be a mistaken end? can one hour have sufficed to prove to -an architect that the work upon which he founded all his -hopes was an impossible, if not a sacrilegious, undertaking? -I cannot reconcile myself to this idea it would madden -me. The reason why I am now dissatisfied is that I have not -a clear appreciation of the past. The past, like the country -through which we walk, becomes indistinct as we advance. My -position is like that of a person wounded in a dream he -feels the wound, though he cannot recollect when he received -it. Come, then, thou regenerate man, thou extravagant -prodigal, thou awakened sleeper, thou allpowerful -visionary, thou invincible millionaire, once again review -thy past life of starvation and wretchedness, revisit the -scenes where fate and misfortune conducted, and where -despair received thee. Too many diamonds, too much gold and -splendor, are now reflected by the mirror in which Monte -Cristo seeks to behold Dantes. Hide thy diamonds, bury thy -gold, shroud thy splendor, exchange riches for poverty, -liberty for a prison, a living body for a corpse" As he -thus reasoned, Monte Cristo walked down the Rue de la -Caisserie. It was the same through which, twentyfour years -ago, he had been conducted by a silent and nocturnal guard -the houses, today so smiling and animated, were on that -night dark, mute, and closed. "And yet they were the same," -murmured Monte Cristo, "only now it is broad daylight -instead of night it is the sun which brightens the place, -and makes it appear so cheerful." -He proceeded towards the quay by the Rue SaintLaurent, and -advanced to the Consigne it was the point where he had -embarked. A pleasureboat with striped awning was going by. -Monte Cristo called the owner, who immediately rowed up to -him with the eagerness of a boatman hoping for a good fare. -The weather was magnificent, and the excursion a treat. -The sun, red and flaming, was sinking into the embrace of -the welcoming ocean. The sea, smooth as crystal, was now and -then disturbed by the leaping of fish, which were pursued by -some unseen enemy and sought for safety in another element -while on the extreme verge of the horizon might be seen the -fishermen's boats, white and graceful as the seagull, or -the merchant vessels bound for Corsica or Spain. -But notwithstanding the serene sky, the gracefully formed -boats, and the golden light in which the whole scene was -bathed, the Count of Monte Cristo, wrapped in his cloak, -could think only of this terrible voyage, the details of -which were one by one recalled to his memory. The solitary -light burning at the Catalans that first sight of the -Chateau d'If, which told him whither they were leading him -the struggle with the gendarmes when he wished to throw -himself overboard his despair when he found himself -vanquished, and the sensation when the muzzle of the carbine -touched his forehead all these were brought before him in -vivid and frightful reality. Like the streams which the heat -of the summer has dried up, and which after the autumnal -storms gradually begin oozing drop by drop, so did the count -feel his heart gradually fill with the bitterness which -formerly nearly overwhelmed Edmond Dantes. Clear sky, -swiftflitting boats, and brilliant sunshine disappeared -the heavens were hung with black, and the gigantic structure -of the Chateau d'If seemed like the phantom of a mortal -enemy. As they reached the shore, the count instinctively -shrunk to the extreme end of the boat, and the owner was -obliged to call out, in his sweetest tone of voice, "Sir, we -are at the landing." -Monte Cristo remembered that on that very spot, on the same -rock, he had been violently dragged by the guards, who -forced him to ascend the slope at the points of their -bayonets. The journey had seemed very long to Dantes, but -Monte Cristo found it equally short. Each stroke of the oar -seemed to awaken a new throng of ideas, which sprang up with -the flying spray of the sea. -There had been no prisoners confined in the Chateau d'If -since the revolution of July it was only inhabited by a -guard, kept there for the prevention of smuggling. A -concierge waited at the door to exhibit to visitors this -monument of curiosity, once a scene of terror. The count -inquired whether any of the ancient jailers were still -there but they had all been pensioned, or had passed on to -some other employment. The concierge who attended him had -only been there since . He visited his own dungeon. He -again beheld the dull light vainly endeavoring to penetrate -the narrow opening. His eyes rested upon the spot where had -stood his bed, since then removed, and behind the bed the -new stones indicated where the breach made by the Abbe Faria -had been. Monte Cristo felt his limbs tremble he seated -himself upon a log of wood. -"Are there any stories connected with this prison besides -the one relating to the poisoning of Mirabeau?" asked the -count "are there any traditions respecting these dismal -abodes, in which it is difficult to believe men can ever -have imprisoned their fellowcreatures?" -"Yes, sir indeed, the jailer Antoine told me one connected -with this very dungeon." -Monte Cristo shuddered Antoine had been his jailer. He had -almost forgotten his name and face, but at the mention of -the name he recalled his person as he used to see it, the -face encircled by a beard, wearing the brown jacket, the -bunch of keys, the jingling of which he still seemed to -hear. The count turned around, and fancied he saw him in the -corridor, rendered still darker by the torch carried by the -concierge. "Would you like to hear the story, sir?" -"Yes relate it," said Monte Cristo, pressing his hand to -his heart to still its violent beatings he felt afraid of -hearing his own history. -"This dungeon," said the concierge, "was, it appears, some -time ago occupied by a very dangerous prisoner, the more so -since he was full of industry. Another person was confined -in the Chateau at the same time, but he was not wicked, he -was only a poor mad priest." -"Ah, indeed? mad" repeated Monte Cristo "and what was -his mania?" -"He offered millions to any one who would set him at -liberty." -Monte Cristo raised his eyes, but he could not see the -heavens there was a stone veil between him and the -firmament. He thought that there had been no less thick a -veil before the eyes of those to whom Faria offered the -treasures. "Could the prisoners see each other?" he asked. -"Oh, no, sir, it was expressly forbidden but they eluded -the vigilance of the guards, and made a passage from one -dungeon to the other." -"And which of them made this passage?" -"Oh, it must have been the young man, certainly, for he was -strong and industrious, while the abbe was aged and weak -besides, his mind was too vacillating to allow him to carry -out an idea." -"Blind fools" murmured the count. -"However, be that as it may, the young man made a tunnel, -how or by what means no one knows but he made it, and there -is the evidence yet remaining of his work. Do you see it?" -and the man held the torch to the wall. -"Ah, yes I see," said the count, in a voice hoarse from -emotion. -"The result was that the two men communicated with one -another how long they did so, nobody knows. One day the old -man fell ill and died. Now guess what the young one did?" -"Tell me." -"He carried off the corpse, which he placed in his own bed -with its face to the wall then he entered the empty -dungeon, closed the entrance, and slipped into the sack -which had contained the dead body. Did you ever hear of such -an idea?" Monte Cristo closed his eyes, and seemed again to -experience all the sensations he had felt when the coarse -canvas, yet moist with the cold dews of death, had touched -his face. The jailer continued "Now this was his project. -He fancied that they buried the dead at the Chateau d'If, -and imagining they would not expend much labor on the grave -of a prisoner, he calculated on raising the earth with his -shoulders, but unfortunately their arrangements at the -Chateau frustrated his projects. They never buried the dead -they merely attached a heavy cannonball to the feet, and -then threw them into the sea. This is what was done. The -young man was thrown from the top of the rock the corpse -was found on the bed next day, and the whole truth was -guessed, for the men who performed the office then mentioned -what they had not dared to speak of before, that at the -moment the corpse was thrown into the deep, they heard a -shriek, which was almost immediately stifled by the water in -which it disappeared." The count breathed with difficulty -the cold drops ran down his forehead, and his heart was full -of anguish. -"No," he muttered, "the doubt I felt was but the -commencement of forgetfulness but here the wound reopens, -and the heart again thirsts for vengeance. And the -prisoner," he continued aloud, "was he ever heard of -afterwards?" -"Oh, no of course not. You can understand that one of two -things must have happened he must either have fallen flat, -in which case the blow, from a height of ninety feet, must -have killed him instantly, or he must have fallen upright, -and then the weight would have dragged him to the bottom, -where he remained poor fellow" -"Then you pity him?" said the count. -"Ma foi, yes though he was in his own element." -"What do you mean?" -"The report was that he had been a naval officer, who had -been confined for plotting with the Bonapartists." -"Great is truth," muttered the count, "fire cannot burn, nor -water drown it Thus the poor sailor lives in the -recollection of those who narrate his history his terrible -story is recited in the chimneycorner, and a shudder is -felt at the description of his transit through the air to be -swallowed by the deep." Then, the count added aloud, "Was -his name ever known?" -"Oh, yes but only as No. ." -"Oh, Villefort, Villefort," murmured the count, "this scene -must often have haunted thy sleepless hours" -"Do you wish to see anything more, sir?" said the concierge. -"Yes, especially if you will show me the poor abbe's room." -"Ah No. ." -"Yes No. ." repeated the count, who seemed to hear the -voice of the abbe answering him in those very words through -the wall when asked his name. -"Come, sir." -"Wait," said Monte Cristo, "I wish to take one final glance -around this room." -"This is fortunate," said the guide "I have forgotten the -other key." -"Go and fetch it." -"I will leave you the torch, sir." -"No, take it away I can see in the dark." -"Why, you are like No. . They said he was so accustomed to -darkness that he could see a pin in the darkest corner of -his dungeon." -"He spent fourteen years to arrive at that," muttered the -count. -The guide carried away the torch. The count had spoken -correctly. Scarcely had a few seconds elapsed, ere he saw -everything as distinctly as by daylight. Then he looked -around him, and really recognized his dungeon. -"Yes," he said, "there is the stone upon which I used to -sit there is the impression made by my shoulders on the -wall there is the mark of my blood made when one day I -dashed my head against the wall. Oh, those figures, how well -I remember them I made them one day to calculate the age of -my father, that I might know whether I should find him still -living, and that of Mercedes, to know if I should find her -still free. After finishing that calculation, I had a -minute's hope. I did not reckon upon hunger and infidelity" -and a bitter laugh escaped the count. He saw in fancy the -burial of his father, and the marriage of Mercedes. On the -other side of the dungeon he perceived an inscription, the -white letters of which were still visible on the green wall. -""O God,'" he read, ""preserve my memory' Oh, yes," he -cried, "that was my only prayer at last I no longer begged -for liberty, but memory I dreaded to become mad and -forgetful. O God, thou hast preserved my memory I thank -thee, I thank thee" At this moment the light of the torch -was reflected on the wall the guide was coming Monte -Cristo went to meet him. -"Follow me, sir" and without ascending the stairs the guide -conducted him by a subterraneous passage to another -entrance. There, again, Monte Cristo was assailed by a -multitude of thoughts. The first thing that met his eye was -the meridian, drawn by the abbe on the wall, by which he -calculated the time then he saw the remains of the bed on -which the poor prisoner had died. The sight of this, instead -of exciting the anguish experienced by the count in the -dungeon, filled his heart with a soft and grateful -sentiment, and tears fell from his eyes. -"This is where the mad abbe was kept, sir, and that is where -the young man entered "and the guide pointed to the -opening, which had remained unclosed. "From the appearance -of the stone," he continued, "a learned gentleman discovered -that the prisoners might have communicated together for ten -years. Poor things Those must have been ten weary years." -Dantes took some louis from his pocket, and gave them to the -man who had twice unconsciously pitied him. The guide took -them, thinking them merely a few pieces of little value but -the light of the torch revealed their true worth. "Sir," he -said, "you have made a mistake you have given me gold." -"I know it." The concierge looked upon the count with -surprise. "Sir," he cried, scarcely able to believe his good -fortune "sir, I cannot understand your generosity" -"Oh, it is very simple, my good fellow I have been a -sailor, and your story touched me more than it would -others." -"Then, sir, since you are so liberal, I ought to offer you -something." -"What have you to offer to me, my friend? Shells? -Strawwork? Thank you" -"No, sir, neither of those something connected with this -story." -"Really? What is it?" -"Listen," said the guide "I said to myself, "Something is -always left in a cell inhabited by one prisoner for fifteen -years,' so I began to sound the wall." -"Ah," cried Monte Cristo, remembering the abbe's two -hidingplaces. -"After some search, I found that the floor gave a hollow -sound near the head of the bed, and at the hearth." -"Yes," said the count, "yes." -"I raised the stones, and found" -"A ropeladder and some tools?" -"How do you know that?" asked the guide in astonishment. -"I do not know I only guess it, because that sort of -thing is generally found in prisoners' cells." -"Yes, sir, a ropeladder and tools." -"And have you them yet?" -"No, sir I sold them to visitors, who considered them great -curiosities but I have still something left." -"What is it?" asked the count, impatiently. -"A sort of book, written upon strips of cloth." -"Go and fetch it, my good fellow and if it be what I hope, -you will do well." -"I will run for it, sir" and the guide went out. Then the -count knelt down by the side of the bed, which death had -converted into an altar. "Oh, second father," he exclaimed, -"thou who hast given me liberty, knowledge, riches thou -who, like beings of a superior order to ourselves, couldst -understand the science of good and evil if in the depths of -the tomb there still remain something within us which can -respond to the voice of those who are left on earth if -after death the soul ever revisit the places where we have -lived and suffered, then, noble heart, sublime soul, then -I conjure thee by the paternal love thou didst bear me, by -the filial obedience I vowed to thee, grant me some sign, -some revelation Remove from me the remains of doubt, which, -if it change not to conviction, must become remorse" The -count bowed his head, and clasped his hands together. -"Here, sir," said a voice behind him. -Monte Cristo shuddered, and arose. The concierge held out -the strips of cloth upon which the Abbe Faria had spread the -riches of his mind. The manuscript was the great work by the -Abbe Faria upon the kingdoms of Italy. The count seized it -hastily, his eyes immediately fell upon the epigraph, and he -read, ""Thou shalt tear out the dragons' teeth, and shall -trample the lions under foot, saith the Lord.'" -"Ah," he exclaimed, "here is my answer. Thanks, father, -thanks." And feeling in his pocket, he took thence a small -pocketbook, which contained ten banknotes, each of , -francs. -"Here," he said, "take this pocketbook." -"Do you give it to me?" -"Yes but only on condition that you will not open it till I -am gone" and placing in his breast the treasure he had just -found, which was more valuable to him than the richest -jewel, he rushed out of the corridor, and reaching his boat, -cried, "To Marseilles" Then, as he departed, he fixed his -eyes upon the gloomy prison. "Woe," he cried, "to those who -confined me in that wretched prison and woe to those who -forgot that I was there" As he repassed the Catalans, the -count turned around and burying his head in his cloak -murmured the name of a woman. The victory was complete -twice he had overcome his doubts. The name he pronounced, in -a voice of tenderness, amounting almost to love, was that of -Haidee. -On landing, the count turned towards the cemetery, where he -felt sure of finding Morrel. He, too, ten years ago, had -piously sought out a tomb, and sought it vainly. He, who -returned to France with millions, had been unable to find -the grave of his father, who had perished from hunger. -Morrel had indeed placed a cross over the spot, but it had -fallen down and the gravedigger had burnt it, as he did all -the old wood in the churchyard. The worthy merchant had been -more fortunate. Dying in the arms of his children, he had -been by them laid by the side of his wife, who had preceded -him in eternity by two years. Two large slabs of marble, on -which were inscribed their names, were placed on either side -of a little enclosure, railed in, and shaded by four -cypresstrees. Morrel was leaning against one of these, -mechanically fixing his eyes on the graves. His grief was so -profound that he was nearly unconscious. "Maximilian," said -the count, "you should not look on the graves, but there" -and he pointed upwards. -"The dead are everywhere," said Morrel "did you not -yourself tell me so as we left Paris?" -"Maximilian," said the count, "you asked me during the -journey to allow you to remain some days at Marseilles. Do -you still wish to do so?" -"I have no wishes, count only I fancy I could pass the time -less painfully here than anywhere else." -"So much the better, for I must leave you but I carry your -word with me, do I not?" -"Ah, count, I shall forget it." -"No, you will not forget it, because you are a man of honor, -Morrel, because you have taken an oath, and are about to do -so again." -"Oh, count, have pity upon me. I am so unhappy." -"I have known a man much more unfortunate than you, Morrel." -"Impossible" -"Alas," said Monte Cristo, "it is the infirmity of our -nature always to believe ourselves much more unhappy than -those who groan by our sides" -"What can be more wretched than the man who has lost all he -loved and desired in the world?" -"Listen, Morrel, and pay attention to what I am about to -tell you. I knew a man who like you had fixed all his hopes -of happiness upon a woman. He was young, he had an old -father whom he loved, a betrothed bride whom he adored. He -was about to marry her, when one of the caprices of fate, -which would almost make us doubt the goodness of providence, -if that providence did not afterwards reveal itself by -proving that all is but a means of conducting to an end, -one of those caprices deprived him of his mistress, of the -future of which he had dreamed for in his blindness he -forgot he could only read the present, and cast him into a -dungeon." -"Ah," said Morrel, "one quits a dungeon in a week, a month, -or a year." -"He remained there fourteen years, Morrel," said the count, -placing his hand on the young man's shoulder. Maximilian -shuddered. -"Fourteen years" he muttered "Fourteen years" repeated -the count. "During that time he had many moments of despair. -He also, Morrel, like you, considered himself the unhappiest -of men." -"Well?" asked Morrel. -"Well, at the height of his despair God assisted him through -human means. At first, perhaps, he did not recognize the -infinite mercy of the Lord, but at last he took patience and -waited. One day he miraculously left the prison, -transformed, rich, powerful. His first cry was for his -father but that father was dead." -"My father, too, is dead," said Morrel. -"Yes but your father died in your arms, happy, respected, -rich, and full of years his father died poor, despairing, -almost doubtful of providence and when his son sought his -grave ten years afterwards, his tomb had disappeared, and no -one could say, "There sleeps the father you so well loved.'" -"Oh" exclaimed Morrel. -"He was, then, a more unhappy son than you, Morrel, for he -could not even find his father's grave." -"But then he had the woman he loved still remaining?" -"You are deceived, Morrel, that woman" -"She was dead?" -"Worse than that, she was faithless, and had married one of -the persecutors of her betrothed. You see, then, Morrel, -that he was a more unhappy lover than you." -"And has he found consolation?" -"He has at least found peace." -"And does he ever expect to be happy?" -"He hopes so, Maximilian." The young man's head fell on his -breast. -"You have my promise," he said, after a minute's pause, -extending his hand to Monte Cristo. "Only remember" -"On the th of October, Morrel, I shall expect you at the -Island of Monte Cristo. On the th a yacht will wait for you -in the port of Bastia, it will be called the Eurus. You will -give your name to the captain, who will bring you to me. It -is understood is it not?" -"But, count, do you remember that the th of October" -"Child," replied the count, "not to know the value of a -man's word I have told you twenty times that if you wish to -die on that day, I will assist you. Morrel, farewell" -"Do you leave me?" -"Yes I have business in Italy. I leave you alone with your -misfortunes, and with hope, Maximilian." -"When do you leave?" -"Immediately the steamer waits, and in an hour I shall be -far from you. Will you accompany me to the harbor, -Maximilian?" -"I am entirely yours, count." Morrel accompanied the count -to the harbor. The white steam was ascending like a plume of -feathers from the black chimney. The steamer soon -disappeared, and in an hour afterwards, as the count had -said, was scarcely distinguishable in the horizon amidst the -fogs of the night. -Chapter -Peppino. -At the same time that the steamer disappeared behind Cape -Morgion, a man travelling post on the road from Florence to -Rome had just passed the little town of Aquapendente. He was -travelling fast enough to cover a great deal of ground -without exciting suspicion. This man was dressed in a -greatcoat, or rather a surtout, a little worse for the -journey, but which exhibited the ribbon of the Legion of -Honor still fresh and brilliant, a decoration which also -ornamented the under coat. He might be recognized, not only -by these signs, but also from the accent with which he spoke -to the postilion, as a Frenchman. Another proof that he was -a native of the universal country was apparent in the fact -of his knowing no other Italian words than the terms used in -music, and which like the "goddam" of Figaro, served all -possible linguistic requirements. "Allegro" he called out -to the postilions at every ascent. "Moderato" he cried as -they descended. And heaven knows there are hills enough -between Rome and Florence by the way of Aquapendente These -two words greatly amused the men to whom they were -addressed. On reaching La Storta, the point from whence Rome -is first visible, the traveller evinced none of the -enthusiastic curiosity which usually leads strangers to -stand up and endeavor to catch sight of the dome of St. -Peter's, which may be seen long before any other object is -distinguishable. No, he merely drew a pocketbook from his -pocket, and took from it a paper folded in four, and after -having examined it in a manner almost reverential, he said -"Good I have it still" -The carriage entered by the Porto del Popolo, turned to the -left, and stopped at the Hotel d'Espagne. Old Pastrini, our -former acquaintance, received the traveller at the door, hat -in hand. The traveller alighted, ordered a good dinner, and -inquired the address of the house of Thomson French, which -was immediately given to him, as it was one of the most -celebrated in Rome. It was situated in the Via dei Banchi, -near St. Peter's. In Rome, as everywhere else, the arrival -of a postchaise is an event. Ten young descendants of -Marius and the Gracchi, barefooted and out at elbows, with -one hand resting on the hip and the other gracefully curved -above the head, stared at the traveller, the postchaise, -and the horses to these were added about fifty little -vagabonds from the Papal States, who earned a pittance by -diving into the Tiber at high water from the bridge of St. -Angelo. Now, as these street Arabs of Rome, more fortunate -than those of Paris, understand every language, more -especially the French, they heard the traveller order an -apartment, a dinner, and finally inquire the way to the -house of Thomson French. The result was that when the -newcomer left the hotel with the cicerone, a man detached -himself from the rest of the idlers, and without having been -seen by the traveller, and appearing to excite no attention -from the guide, followed the stranger with as much skill as -a Parisian police agent would have used. -The Frenchman had been so impatient to reach the house of -Thomson French that he would not wait for the horses to be -harnessed, but left word for the carriage to overtake him on -the road, or to wait for him at the bankers' door. He -reached it before the carriage arrived. The Frenchman -entered, leaving in the anteroom his guide, who immediately -entered into conversation with two or three of the -industrious idlers who are always to be found in Rome at the -doors of bankinghouses, churches, museums, or theatres. -With the Frenchman, the man who had followed him entered -too the Frenchman knocked at the inner door, and entered -the first room his shadow did the same. -"Messrs. Thomson French?" inquired the stranger. -An attendant arose at a sign from a confidential clerk at -the first desk. "Whom shall I announce?" said the attendant. -"Baron Danglars." -"Follow me," said the man. A door opened, through which the -attendant and the baron disappeared. The man who had -followed Danglars sat down on a bench. The clerk continued -to write for the next five minutes the man preserved -profound silence, and remained perfectly motionless. Then -the pen of the clerk ceased to move over the paper he -raised his head, and appearing to be perfectly sure of -privacy, "Ah, ha," he said, "here you are, Peppino" -"Yes," was the laconic reply. "You have found out that there -is something worth having about this large gentleman?" -"There is no great merit due to me, for we were informed of -it." -"You know his business here, then." -"Pardieu, he has come to draw, but I don't know how much" -"You will know presently, my friend." -"Very well, only do not give me false information as you did -the other day." -"What do you mean? of whom do you speak? Was it the -Englishman who carried off , crowns from here the other -day?" -"No he really had , crowns, and we found them. I mean -the Russian prince, who you said had , livres, and we -only found ,." -"You must have searched badly." -"Luigi Vampa himself searched." -"Indeed? But you must let me make my observations, or the -Frenchman will transact his business without my knowing the -sum." Peppino nodded, and taking a rosary from his pocket -began to mutter a few prayers while the clerk disappeared -through the same door by which Danglars and the attendant -had gone out. At the expiration of ten minutes the clerk -returned with a beaming countenance. "Well?" asked Peppino -of his friend. -"Joy, joy the sum is large" -"Five or six millions, is it not?" -"Yes, you know the amount." -"On the receipt of the Count of Monte Cristo?" -"Why, how came you to be so well acquainted with all this?" -"I told you we were informed beforehand." -"Then why do you apply to me?" -"That I may be sure I have the right man." -"Yes, it is indeed he. Five millions a pretty sum, eh, -Peppino?" -"Hush here is our man" The clerk seized his pen, and -Peppino his beads one was writing and the other praying -when the door opened. Danglars looked radiant with joy the -banker accompanied him to the door. Peppino followed -Danglars. -According to the arrangements, the carriage was waiting at -the door. The guide held the door open. Guides are useful -people, who will turn their hands to anything. Danglars -leaped into the carriage like a young man of twenty. The -cicerone reclosed the door, and sprang up by the side of the -coachman. Peppino mounted the seat behind. -"Will your excellency visit St. Peter's?" asked the -cicerone. -"I did not come to Rome to see," said Danglars aloud then -he added softly, with an avaricious smile, "I came to -touch" and he rapped his pocketbook, in which he had just -placed a letter. -"Then your excellency is going" -"To the hotel." -"Casa Pastrini" said the cicerone to the coachman, and the -carriage drove rapidly on. Ten minutes afterwards the baron -entered his apartment, and Peppino stationed himself on the -bench outside the door of the hotel, after having whispered -something in the ear of one of the descendants of Marius and -the Gracchi whom we noticed at the beginning of the chapter, -who immediately ran down the road leading to the Capitol at -his fullest speed. Danglars was tired and sleepy he -therefore went to bed, placing his pocketbook under his -pillow. Peppino had a little spare time, so he had a game of -mora with the facchini, lost three crowns, and then to -console himself drank a bottle of Orvieto. -The next morning Danglars awoke late, though he went to bed -so early he had not slept well for five or six nights, even -if he had slept at all. He breakfasted heartily, and caring -little, as he said, for the beauties of the Eternal City, -ordered posthorses at noon. But Danglars had not reckoned -upon the formalities of the police and the idleness of the -postingmaster. The horses only arrived at two o'clock, and -the cicerone did not bring the passport till three. All -these preparations had collected a number of idlers round -the door of Signor Pastrini's the descendants of Marius and -the Gracchi were also not wanting. The baron walked -triumphantly through the crowd, who for the sake of gain -styled him "your excellency." As Danglars had hitherto -contented himself with being called a baron, he felt rather -flattered at the title of excellency, and distributed a -dozen silver coins among the beggars, who were ready, for -twelve more, to call him "your highness." -"Which road?" asked the postilion in Italian. "The Ancona -road," replied the baron. Signor Pastrini interpreted the -question and answer, and the horses galloped off. Danglars -intended travelling to Venice, where he would receive one -part of his fortune, and then proceeding to Vienna, where he -would find the rest, he meant to take up his residence in -the latter town, which he had been told was a city of -pleasure. -He had scarcely advanced three leagues out of Rome when -daylight began to disappear. Danglars had not intended -starting so late, or he would have remained he put his head -out and asked the postilion how long it would be before they -reached the next town. "Non capisco" do not understand, -was the reply. Danglars bent his head, which he meant to -imply, "Very well." The carriage again moved on. "I will -stop at the first postinghouse," said Danglars to himself. -He still felt the same selfsatisfaction which he had -experienced the previous evening, and which had procured him -so good a night's rest. He was luxuriously stretched in a -good English calash, with double springs he was drawn by -four good horses, at full gallop he knew the relay to be at -a distance of seven leagues. What subject of meditation -could present itself to the banker, so fortunately become -bankrupt? -Danglars thought for ten minutes about his wife in Paris -another ten minutes about his daughter travelling with -Mademoiselle d'Armilly the same period was given to his -creditors, and the manner in which he intended spending -their money and then, having no subject left for -contemplation, he shut his eyes, and fell asleep. Now and -then a jolt more violent than the rest caused him to open -his eyes then he felt that he was still being carried with -great rapidity over the same country, thickly strewn with -broken aqueducts, which looked like granite giants petrified -while running a race. But the night was cold, dull, and -rainy, and it was much more pleasant for a traveller to -remain in the warm carriage than to put his head out of the -window to make inquiries of a postilion whose only answer -was "Non capisco." -Danglars therefore continued to sleep, saying to himself -that he would be sure to awake at the postinghouse. The -carriage stopped. Danglars fancied that they had reached the -longdesired point he opened his eyes and looked through -the window, expecting to find himself in the midst of some -town, or at least village but he saw nothing except what -seemed like a ruin, where three or four men went and came -like shadows. Danglars waited a moment, expecting the -postilion to come and demand payment with the termination of -his stage. He intended taking advantage of the opportunity -to make fresh inquiries of the new conductor but the horses -were unharnessed, and others put in their places, without -any one claiming money from the traveller. Danglars, -astonished, opened the door but a strong hand pushed him -back, and the carriage rolled on. The baron was completely -roused. "Eh?" he said to the postilion, "eh, mio caro?" -This was another little piece of Italian the baron had -learned from hearing his daughter sing Italian duets with -Cavalcanti. But mio caro did not reply. Danglars then opened -the window. -"Come, my friend," he said, thrusting his hand through the -opening, "where are we going?" -"Dentro la testa" answered a solemn and imperious voice, -accompanied by a menacing gesture. Danglars thought dentro -la testa meant, "Put in your head" He was making rapid -progress in Italian. He obeyed, not without some uneasiness, -which, momentarily increasing, caused his mind, instead of -being as unoccupied as it was when he began his journey, to -fill with ideas which were very likely to keep a traveller -awake, more especially one in such a situation as Danglars. -His eyes acquired that quality which in the first moment of -strong emotion enables them to see distinctly, and which -afterwards fails from being too much taxed. Before we are -alarmed, we see correctly when we are alarmed, we see -double and when we have been alarmed, we see nothing but -trouble. Danglars observed a man in a cloak galloping at the -right hand of the carriage. -"Some gendarme" he exclaimed. "Can I have been intercepted -by French telegrams to the pontifical authorities?" He -resolved to end his anxiety. "Where are you taking me?" he -asked. "Dentro la testa," replied the same voice, with the -same menacing accent. -Danglars turned to the left another man on horseback was -galloping on that side. "Decidedly," said Danglars, with the -perspiration on his forehead, "I must be under arrest." And -he threw himself back in the calash, not this time to sleep, -but to think. Directly afterwards the moon rose. He then saw -the great aqueducts, those stone phantoms which he had -before remarked, only then they were on the right hand, now -they were on the left. He understood that they had described -a circle, and were bringing him back to Rome. "Oh, -unfortunate" he cried, "they must have obtained my arrest." -The carriage continued to roll on with frightful speed. An -hour of terror elapsed, for every spot they passed showed -that they were on the road back. At length he saw a dark -mass, against which it seemed as if the carriage was about -to dash but the vehicle turned to one side, leaving the -barrier behind and Danglars saw that it was one of the -ramparts encircling Rome. -"Mon dieu" cried Danglars, "we are not returning to Rome -then it is not justice which is pursuing me Gracious -heavens another idea presents itself what if they should -be" -His hair stood on end. He remembered those interesting -stories, so little believed in Paris, respecting Roman -bandits he remembered the adventures that Albert de Morcerf -had related when it was intended that he should marry -Mademoiselle Eugenie. "They are robbers, perhaps," he -muttered. Just then the carriage rolled on something harder -than gravel road. Danglars hazarded a look on both sides of -the road, and perceived monuments of a singular form, and -his mind now recalled all the details Morcerf had related, -and comparing them with his own situation, he felt sure that -he must be on the Appian Way. On the left, in a sort of -valley, he perceived a circular excavation. It was -Caracalla's circus. On a word from the man who rode at the -side of the carriage, it stopped. At the same time the door -was opened. "Scendi" exclaimed a commanding voice. Danglars -instantly descended although he did not yet speak Italian, -he understood it very well. More dead than alive, he looked -around him. Four men surrounded him, besides the postilion. -"Di qua," said one of the men, descending a little path -leading out of the Appian Way. Danglars followed his guide -without opposition, and had no occasion to turn around to -see whether the three others were following him. Still it -appeared as though they were stationed at equal distances -from one another, like sentinels. After walking for about -ten minutes, during which Danglars did not exchange a single -word with his guide, he found himself between a hillock and -a clump of high weeds three men, standing silent, formed a -triangle, of which he was the centre. He wished to speak, -but his tongue refused to move. "Avanti" said the same -sharp and imperative voice. -This time Danglars had double reason to understand, for if -the word and gesture had not explained the speaker's -meaning, it was clearly expressed by the man walking behind -him, who pushed him so rudely that he struck against the -guide. This guide was our friend Peppino, who dashed into -the thicket of high weeds, through a path which none but -lizards or polecats could have imagined to be an open road. -Peppino stopped before a pit overhung by thick hedges the -pit, half open, afforded a passage to the young man, who -disappeared like the evil spirits in the fairy tales. The -voice and gesture of the man who followed Danglars ordered -him to do the same. There was no longer any doubt, the -bankrupt was in the hands of Roman banditti. Danglars -acquitted himself like a man placed between two dangerous -positions, and who is rendered brave by fear. -Notwithstanding his large stomach, certainly not intended to -penetrate the fissures of the Campagna, he slid down like -Peppino, and closing his eyes fell upon his feet. As he -touched the ground, he opened his eyes. The path was wide, -but dark. Peppino, who cared little for being recognized now -that he was in his own territories, struck a light and lit a -torch. Two other men descended after Danglars forming the -rearguard, and pushing Danglars whenever he happened to -stop, they came by a gentle declivity to the intersection of -two corridors. The walls were hollowed out in sepulchres, -one above the other, and which seemed in contrast with the -white stones to open their large dark eyes, like those which -we see on the faces of the dead. A sentinel struck the rings -of his carbine against his left hand. "Who comes there?" he -cried. -"A friend, a friend" said Peppino "but where is the -captain?" -"There," said the sentinel, pointing over his shoulder to a -spacious crypt, hollowed out of the rock, the lights from -which shone into the passage through the large arched -openings. "Fine spoil, captain, fine spoil" said Peppino in -Italian, and taking Danglars by the collar of his coat he -dragged him to an opening resembling a door, through which -they entered the apartment which the captain appeared to -have made his dwellingplace. -"Is this the man?" asked the captain, who was attentively -reading Plutarch's "Life of Alexander." -"Himself, captain himself." -"Very well, show him to me." At this rather impertinent -order, Peppino raised his torch to the face of Danglars, who -hastily withdrew that he might not have his eyelashes burnt. -His agitated features presented the appearance of pale and -hideous terror. "The man is tired," said the captain, -"conduct him to his bed." -"Oh," murmured Danglars," that bed is probably one of the -coffins hollowed in the wall, and the sleep I shall enjoy -will be death from one of the poniards I see glistening in -the darkness." -From their beds of dried leaves or wolfskins at the back of -the chamber now arose the companions of the man who had been -found by Albert de Morcerf reading "Caesar's Commentaries," -and by Danglars studying the "Life of Alexander." The banker -uttered a groan and followed his guide he neither -supplicated nor exclaimed. He no longer possessed strength, -will, power, or feeling he followed where they led him. At -length he found himself at the foot of a staircase, and he -mechanically lifted his foot five or six times. Then a low -door was opened before him, and bending his head to avoid -striking his forehead he entered a small room cut out of the -rock. The cell was clean, though empty, and dry, though -situated at an immeasurable distance under the earth. A bed -of dried grass covered with goatskins was placed in one -corner. Danglars brightened up on beholding it, fancying -that it gave some promise of safety. "Oh, God be praised," -he said "it is a real bed" -"Ecco" said the guide, and pushing Danglars into the cell, -he closed the door upon him. A bolt grated and Danglars was -a prisoner. If there had been no bolt, it would have been -impossible for him to pass through the midst of the garrison -who held the catacombs of St. Sebastian, encamped round a -master whom our readers must have recognized as the famous -Luigi Vampa. Danglars, too, had recognized the bandit, whose -existence he would not believe when Albert de Morcerf -mentioned him in Paris and not only did he recognize him, -but the cell in which Albert had been confined, and which -was probably kept for the accommodation of strangers. These -recollections were dwelt upon with some pleasure by -Danglars, and restored him to some degree of tranquillity. -Since the bandits had not despatched him at once, he felt -that they would not kill him at all. They had arrested him -for the purpose of robbery, and as he had only a few louis -about him, he doubted not he would be ransomed. He -remembered that Morcerf had been taxed at , crowns, and -as he considered himself of much greater importance than -Morcerf he fixed his own price at , crowns. Eight -thousand crowns amounted to , livres he would then -have about ,, francs left. With this sum he could -manage to keep out of difficulties. Therefore, tolerably -secure in being able to extricate himself from his position, -provided he were not rated at the unreasonable sum of -,, francs, he stretched himself on his bed, and after -turning over two or three times, fell asleep with the -tranquillity of the hero whose life Luigi Vampa was -studying. -Chapter -Luigi Vampa's Bill of Fare. -We awake from every sleep except the one dreaded by -Danglars. He awoke. To a Parisian accustomed to silken -curtains, walls hung with velvet drapery, and the soft -perfume of burning wood, the white smoke of which diffuses -itself in graceful curves around the room, the appearance of -the whitewashed cell which greeted his eyes on awakening -seemed like the continuation of some disagreeable dream. But -in such a situation a single moment suffices to change the -strongest doubt into certainty. "Yes, yes," he murmured, "I -am in the hands of the brigands of whom Albert de Morcerf -spoke." His first idea was to breathe, that he might know -whether he was wounded. He borrowed this from "Don Quixote," -the only book he had ever read, but which he still slightly -remembered. -"No," he cried, "they have not wounded, but perhaps they -have robbed me" and he thrust his hands into his pockets. -They were untouched the hundred louis he had reserved for -his journey from Rome to Venice were in his trousers pocket, -and in that of his greatcoat he found the little notecase -containing his letter of credit for ,, francs. -"Singular bandits" he exclaimed "they have left me my -purse and pocketbook. As I was saying last night, they -intend me to be ransomed. Hallo, here is my watch Let me -see what time it is." Danglars' watch, one of Breguet's -repeaters, which he had carefully wound up on the previous -night, struck half past five. Without this, Danglars would -have been quite ignorant of the time, for daylight did not -reach his cell. Should he demand an explanation from the -bandits, or should he wait patiently for them to propose it? -The last alternative seemed the most prudent, so he waited -until twelve o'clock. During all this time a sentinel, who -had been relieved at eight o'clock, had been watching his -door. Danglars suddenly felt a strong inclination to see the -person who kept watch over him. He had noticed that a few -rays, not of daylight, but from a lamp, penetrated through -the illjoined planks of the door he approached just as the -brigand was refreshing himself with a mouthful of brandy, -which, owing to the leathern bottle containing it, sent -forth an odor which was extremely unpleasant to Danglars. -"Faugh" he exclaimed, retreating to the farther corner of -his cell. -At twelve this man was replaced by another functionary, and -Danglars, wishing to catch sight of his new guardian, -approached the door again. He was an athletic, gigantic -bandit, with large eyes, thick lips, and a flat nose his -red hair fell in dishevelled masses like snakes around his -shoulders. "Ah, ha," cried Danglars, "this fellow is more -like an ogre than anything else however, I am rather too -old and tough to be very good eating" We see that Danglars -was collected enough to jest at the same time, as though to -disprove the ogreish propensities, the man took some black -bread, cheese, and onions from his wallet, which he began -devouring voraciously. "May I be hanged," said Danglars, -glancing at the bandit's dinner through the crevices of the -door, "may I be hanged if I can understand how people can -eat such filth" and he withdrew to seat himself upon his -goatskin, which reminded him of the smell of the brandy. -But the mysteries of nature are incomprehensible, and there -are certain invitations contained in even the coarsest food -which appeal very irresistibly to a fasting stomach. -Danglars felt his own not to be very well supplied just -then, and gradually the man appeared less ugly, the bread -less black, and the cheese more fresh, while those dreadful -vulgar onions recalled to his mind certain sauces and -sidedishes, which his cook prepared in a very superior -manner whenever he said, "Monsieur Deniseau, let me have a -nice little fricassee today." He got up and knocked on the -door the bandit raised his head. Danglars knew that he was -heard, so he redoubled his blows. "Che cosa?" asked the -bandit. "Come, come," said Danglars, tapping his fingers -against the door, "I think it is quite time to think of -giving me something to eat" But whether he did not -understand him, or whether he had received no orders -respecting the nourishment of Danglars, the giant, without -answering, went on with his dinner. Danglars' feelings were -hurt, and not wishing to put himself under obligations to -the brute, the banker threw himself down again on his -goatskin and did not breathe another word. -Four hours passed by and the giant was replaced by another -bandit. Danglars, who really began to experience sundry -gnawings at the stomach, arose softly, again applied his eye -to the crack of the door, and recognized the intelligent -countenance of his guide. It was, indeed, Peppino who was -preparing to mount guard as comfortably as possible by -seating himself opposite to the door, and placing between -his legs an earthen pan, containing chickpease stewed with -bacon. Near the pan he also placed a pretty little basket of -Villetri grapes and a flask of Orvieto. Peppino was -decidedly an epicure. Danglars watched these preparations -and his mouth watered. "Come," he said to himself, "let me -try if he will be more tractable than the other" and he -tapped gently at the door. "On y va," coming exclaimed -Peppino, who from frequenting the house of Signor Pastrini -understood French perfectly in all its idioms. -Danglars immediately recognized him as the man who had -called out in such a furious manner, "Put in your head" But -this was not the time for recrimination, so he assumed his -most agreeable manner and said with a gracious smile, -"Excuse me, sir, but are they not going to give me any -dinner?" -"Does your excellency happen to be hungry?" -"Happen to be hungry, that's pretty good, when I haven't -eaten for twentyfour hours" muttered Danglars. Then he -added aloud, "Yes, sir, I am hungry very hungry." -"What would your excellency like?" and Peppino placed his -pan on the ground, so that the steam rose directly under the -nostrils of Danglars. "Give your orders." -"Have you kitchens here?" -"Kitchens? of course complete ones." -"And cooks?" -"Excellent" -"Well, a fowl, fish, game, it signifies little, so that I -eat." -"As your excellency pleases. You mentioned a fowl, I think?" -"Yes, a fowl." Peppino, turning around, shouted, "A fowl for -his excellency" His voice yet echoed in the archway when a -handsome, graceful, and halfnaked young man appeared, -bearing a fowl in a silver dish on his head, without the -assistance of his hands. "I could almost believe myself at -the Cafe de Paris," murmured Danglars. -"Here, your excellency," said Peppino, taking the fowl from -the young bandit and placing it on the wormeaten table, -which with the stool and the goatskin bed formed the entire -furniture of the cell. Danglars asked for a knife and fork. -"Here, excellency," said Peppino, offering him a little -blunt knife and a boxwood fork. Danglars took the knife in -one hand and the fork in the other, and was about to cut up -the fowl. "Pardon me, excellency," said Peppino, placing his -hand on the banker's shoulder "people pay here before they -eat. They might not be satisfied, and" -"Ah, ha," thought Danglars, "this is not so much like Paris, -except that I shall probably be skinned Never mind, I'll -fix that all right. I have always heard how cheap poultry is -in Italy I should think a fowl is worth about twelve sous -at Rome. There," he said, throwing a louis down. Peppino -picked up the louis, and Danglars again prepared to carve -the fowl. "Stay a moment, your excellency," said Peppino, -rising "you still owe me something." -"I said they would skin me," thought Danglars but resolving -to resist the extortion, he said, "Come, how much do I owe -you for this fowl?" -"Your excellency has given me a louis on account." -"A louis on account for a fowl?" -"Certainly and your excellency now owes me , louis." -Danglars opened his enormous eyes on hearing this gigantic -joke. "Come, come, this is very droll very amusing I -allow but, as I am very hungry, pray allow me to eat. Stay, -here is another louis for you." -"Then that will make only , louis more," said Peppino -with the same indifference. "I shall get them all in time." -"Oh, as for that," said Danglars, angry at this prolongation -of the jest, "as for that you won't get them at all. Go -to the devil You do not know with whom you have to deal" -Peppino made a sign, and the youth hastily removed the fowl. -Danglars threw himself upon his goatskin, and Peppino, -reclosing the door, again began eating his pease and bacon. -Though Danglars could not see Peppino, the noise of his -teeth allowed no doubt as to his occupation. He was -certainly eating, and noisily too, like an illbred man. -"Brute" said Danglars. Peppino pretended not to hear him, -and without even turning his head continued to eat slowly. -Danglars' stomach felt so empty, that it seemed as if it -would be impossible ever to fill it again still he had -patience for another halfhour, which appeared to him like a -century. He again arose and went to the door. "Come, sir, do -not keep me starving here any longer, but tell me what they -want." -"Nay, your excellency, it is you who should tell us what you -want. Give your orders, and we will execute them." -"Then open the door directly." Peppino obeyed. "Now look -here, I want something to eat To eat do you hear?" -"Are you hungry?" -"Come, you understand me." -"What would your excellency like to eat?" -"A piece of dry bread, since the fowls are beyond all price -in this accursed place." -"Bread? Very well. Hallo, there, some bread" he called. The -youth brought a small loaf. "How much?" asked Danglars. -"Four thousand nine hundred and ninetyeight louis," said -Peppino "You have paid two louis in advance." -"What? One hundred thousand francs for a loaf?" -"One hundred thousand francs," repeated Peppino. -"But you only asked , francs for a fowl" -"We have a fixed price for all our provisions. It signifies -nothing whether you eat much or little whether you have -ten dishes or one it is always the same price." -"What, still keeping up this silly jest? My dear fellow, it -is perfectly ridiculous stupid You had better tell me at -once that you intend starving me to death." -"Oh, dear, no, your excellency, unless you intend to commit -suicide. Pay and eat." -"And what am I to pay with, brute?" said Danglars, enraged. -"Do you suppose I carry , francs in my pocket?" -"Your excellency has ,, francs in your pocket that -will be fifty fowls at , francs apiece, and half a -fowl for the ,." -Danglars shuddered. The bandage fell from his eyes, and he -understood the joke, which he did not think quite so stupid -as he had done just before. "Come," he said, "if I pay you -the , francs, will you be satisfied, and allow me to -eat at my ease?" -"Certainly," said Peppino. -"But how can I pay them?" -"Oh, nothing easier you have an account open with Messrs. -Thomson French, Via dei Banchi, Rome give me a draft for -, louis on these gentlemen, and our banker shall take -it." Danglars thought it as well to comply with a good -grace, so he took the pen, ink, and paper Peppino offered -him, wrote the draft, and signed it. "Here," he said, "here -is a draft at sight." -"And here is your fowl." Danglars sighed while he carved the -fowl it appeared very thin for the price it had cost. As -for Peppino, he examined the paper attentively, put it into -his pocket, and continued eating his pease. -Chapter -The Pardon. -The next day Danglars was again hungry certainly the air of -that dungeon was very provocative of appetite. The prisoner -expected that he would be at no expense that day, for like -an economical man he had concealed half of his fowl and a -piece of the bread in the corner of his cell. But he had no -sooner eaten than he felt thirsty he had forgotten that. He -struggled against his thirst till his tongue clave to the -roof of his mouth then, no longer able to resist, he called -out. The sentinel opened the door it was a new face. He -thought it would be better to transact business with his old -acquaintance, so he sent for Peppino. "Here I am, your -excellency," said Peppino, with an eagerness which Danglars -thought favorable to him. "What do you want?" -"Something to drink." -"Your excellency knows that wine is beyond all price near -Rome." -"Then give me water," cried Danglars, endeavoring to parry -the blow. -"Oh, water is even more scarce than wine, your excellency, -there has been such a drought." -"Come," thought Danglars, "it is the same old story." And -while he smiled as he attempted to regard the affair as a -joke, he felt his temples get moist with perspiration. -"Come, my friend," said Danglars, seeing that he made no -impression on Peppino, "you will not refuse me a glass of -wine?" -"I have already told you that we do not sell at retail." -"Well, then, let me have a bottle of the least expensive." -"They are all the same price." -"And what is that?" -"Twentyfive thousand francs a bottle." -"Tell me," cried Danglars, in a tone whose bitterness -Harpagon alone has been capable of revealing "tell me -that you wish to despoil me of all it will be sooner over -than devouring me piecemeal." - The miser in Moliere's comedy of "L'Avare." Ed. -"It is possible such may be the master's intention." -"The master? who is he?" -"The person to whom you were conducted yesterday." -"Where is he?" -"Here." -"Let me see him." -"Certainly." And the next moment Luigi Vampa appeared before -Danglars. -"You sent for me?" he said to the prisoner. -"Are you, sir, the chief of the people who brought me here?" -"Yes, your excellency. What then?" -"How much do you require for my ransom?" -"Merely the ,, you have about you." Danglars felt a -dreadful spasm dart through his heart. "But this is all I -have left in the world," he said, "out of an immense -fortune. If you deprive me of that, take away my life also." -"We are forbidden to shed your blood." -"And by whom are you forbidden?" -"By him we obey." -"You do, then, obey some one?" -"Yes, a chief." -"I thought you said you were the chief?" -"So I am of these men but there is another over me." -"And did your superior order you to treat me in this way?" -"Yes." -"But my purse will be exhausted." -"Probably." -"Come," said Danglars, "will you take a million?" -"No." -"Two millions? three? four? Come, four? I will give -them to you on condition that you let me go." -"Why do you offer me ,, for what is worth ,,? -This is a kind of usury, banker, that I do not understand." -"Take all, then take all, I tell you, and kill me" -"Come, come, calm yourself. You will excite your blood, and -that would produce an appetite it would require a million a -day to satisfy. Be more economical." -"But when I have no more money left to pay you?" asked the -infuriated Danglars. -"Then you must suffer hunger." -"Suffer hunger?" said Danglars, becoming pale. -"Most likely," replied Vampa coolly. -"But you say you do not wish to kill me?" -"No." -"And yet you will let me perish with hunger?" -"Ah, that is a different thing." -"Well, then, wretches," cried Danglars, "I will defy your -infamous calculations I would rather die at once You may -torture, torment, kill me, but you shall not have my -signature again" -"As your excellency pleases," said Vampa, as he left the -cell. Danglars, raving, threw himself on the goatskin. Who -could these men be? Who was the invisible chief? What could -be his intentions towards him? And why, when every one else -was allowed to be ransomed, might he not also be? Oh, yes -certainly a speedy, violent death would be a fine means of -deceiving these remorseless enemies, who appeared to pursue -him with such incomprehensible vengeance. But to die? For -the first time in his life, Danglars contemplated death with -a mixture of dread and desire the time had come when the -implacable spectre, which exists in the mind of every human -creature, arrested his attention and called out with every -pulsation of his heart, "Thou shalt die" -Danglars resembled a timid animal excited in the chase -first it flies, then despairs, and at last, by the very -force of desperation, sometimes succeeds in eluding its -pursuers. Danglars meditated an escape but the walls were -solid rock, a man was sitting reading at the only outlet to -the cell, and behind that man shapes armed with guns -continually passed. His resolution not to sign lasted two -days, after which he offered a million for some food. They -sent him a magnificent supper, and took his million. -From this time the prisoner resolved to suffer no longer, -but to have everything he wanted. At the end of twelve days, -after having made a splendid dinner, he reckoned his -accounts, and found that he had only , francs left. -Then a strange reaction took place he who had just -abandoned ,, endeavored to save the , francs he -had left, and sooner than give them up he resolved to enter -again upon a life of privation he was deluded by the -hopefulness that is a premonition of madness. He who for so -long a time had forgotten God, began to think that miracles -were possible that the accursed cavern might be -discovered by the officers of the Papal States, who would -release him that then he would have , remaining, which -would be sufficient to save him from starvation and finally -he prayed that this sum might be preserved to him, and as he -prayed he wept. Three days passed thus, during which his -prayers were frequent, if not heartfelt. Sometimes he was -delirious, and fancied he saw an old man stretched on a -pallet he, also, was dying of hunger. -On the fourth, he was no longer a man, but a living corpse. -He had picked up every crumb that had been left from his -former meals, and was beginning to eat the matting which -covered the floor of his cell. Then he entreated Peppino, as -he would a guardian angel, to give him food he offered him -, francs for a mouthful of bread. But Peppino did not -answer. On the fifth day he dragged himself to the door of -the cell. -"Are you not a Christian?" he said, falling on his knees. -"Do you wish to assassinate a man who, in the eyes of -heaven, is a brother? Oh, my former friends, my former -friends" he murmured, and fell with his face to the ground. -Then rising in despair, he exclaimed, "The chief, the -chief" -"Here I am," said Vampa, instantly appearing "what do you -want?" -"Take my last gold," muttered Danglars, holding out his -pocketbook, "and let me live here I ask no more for -liberty I only ask to live" -"Then you suffer a great deal?" -"Oh, yes, yes, cruelly" -"Still, there have been men who suffered more than you." -"I do not think so." -"Yes those who have died of hunger." -Danglars thought of the old man whom, in his hours of -delirium, he had seen groaning on his bed. He struck his -forehead on the ground and groaned. "Yes," he said, "there -have been some who have suffered more than I have, but then -they must have been martyrs at least." -"Do you repent?" asked a deep, solemn voice, which caused -Danglars' hair to stand on end. His feeble eyes endeavored -to distinguish objects, and behind the bandit he saw a man -enveloped in a cloak, half lost in the shadow of a stone -column. -"Of what must I repent?" stammered Danglars. -"Of the evil you have done," said the voice. -"Oh, yes oh, yes, I do indeed repent." And he struck his -breast with his emaciated fist. -"Then I forgive you," said the man, dropping his cloak, and -advancing to the light. -"The Count of Monte Cristo" said Danglars, more pale from -terror than he had been just before from hunger and misery. -"You are mistaken I am not the Count of Monte Cristo." -"Then who are you?" -"I am he whom you sold and dishonored I am he whose -betrothed you prostituted I am he upon whom you trampled -that you might raise yourself to fortune I am he whose -father you condemned to die of hunger I am he whom you -also condemned to starvation, and who yet forgives you, -because he hopes to be forgiven I am Edmond Dantes" -Danglars uttered a cry, and fell prostrate. "Rise," said the -count, "your life is safe the same good fortune has not -happened to your accomplices one is mad, the other dead. -Keep the , francs you have left I give them to you. -The ,, you stole from the hospitals has been restored -to them by an unknown hand. And now eat and drink I will -entertain you tonight. Vampa, when this man is satisfied, -let him be free." Danglars remained prostrate while the -count withdrew when he raised his head he saw disappearing -down the passage nothing but a shadow, before which the -bandits bowed. According to the count's directions, Danglars -was waited on by Vampa, who brought him the best wine and -fruits of Italy then, having conducted him to the road, and -pointed to the postchaise, left him leaning against a tree. -He remained there all night, not knowing where he was. When -daylight dawned he saw that he was near a stream he was -thirsty, and dragged himself towards it. As he stooped down -to drink, he saw that his hair had become entirely white. -Chapter -The Fifth of October. -It was about six o'clock in the evening an opalcolored -light, through which an autumnal sun shed its golden rays, -descended on the blue ocean. The heat of the day had -gradually decreased, and a light breeze arose, seeming like -the respiration of nature on awakening from the burning -siesta of the south. A delicious zephyr played along the -coasts of the Mediterranean, and wafted from shore to shore -the sweet perfume of plants, mingled with the fresh smell of -the sea. -A light yacht, chaste and elegant in its form, was gliding -amidst the first dews of night over the immense lake, -extending from Gibraltar to the Dardanelles, and from Tunis -to Venice. The vessel resembled a swan with its wings opened -towards the wind, gliding on the water. It advanced swiftly -and gracefully, leaving behind it a glittering stretch of -foam. By degrees the sun disappeared behind the western -horizon but as though to prove the truth of the fanciful -ideas in heathen mythology, its indiscreet rays reappeared -on the summit of every wave, as if the god of fire had just -sunk upon the bosom of Amphitrite, who in vain endeavored to -hide her lover beneath her azure mantle. The yacht moved -rapidly on, though there did not appear to be sufficient -wind to ruffle the curls on the head of a young girl. -Standing on the prow was a tall man, of a dark complexion, -who saw with dilating eyes that they were approaching a dark -mass of land in the shape of a cone, which rose from the -midst of the waves like the hat of a Catalan. "Is that Monte -Cristo?" asked the traveller, to whose orders the yacht was -for the time submitted, in a melancholy voice. -"Yes, your excellency," said the captain, "we have reached -it." -"We have reached it" repeated the traveller in an accent of -indescribable sadness. Then he added, in a low tone, "Yes -that is the haven." And then he again plunged into a train -of thought, the character of which was better revealed by a -sad smile, than it would have been by tears. A few minutes -afterwards a flash of light, which was extinguished -instantly, was seen on the land, and the sound of firearms -reached the yacht. -"Your excellency," said the captain, "that was the land -signal, will you answer yourself?" -"What signal?" The captain pointed towards the island, up -the side of which ascended a volume of smoke, increasing as -it rose. "Ah, yes," he said, as if awaking from a dream. -"Give it to me." -The captain gave him a loaded carbine the traveller slowly -raised it, and fired in the air. Ten minutes afterwards, the -sails were furled, and they cast anchor about a hundred -fathoms from the little harbor. The gig was already lowered, -and in it were four oarsmen and a coxswain. The traveller -descended, and instead of sitting down at the stern of the -boat, which had been decorated with a blue carpet for his -accommodation, stood up with his arms crossed. The rowers -waited, their oars half lifted out of the water, like birds -drying their wings. -"Give way," said the traveller. The eight oars fell into the -sea simultaneously without splashing a drop of water, and -the boat, yielding to the impulsion, glided forward. In an -instant they found themselves in a little harbor, formed in -a natural creek the boat grounded on the fine sand. -"Will your excellency be so good as to mount the shoulders -of two of our men, they will carry you ashore?" The young -man answered this invitation with a gesture of indifference, -and stepped out of the boat the sea immediately rose to his -waist. "Ah, your excellency," murmured the pilot, "you -should not have done so our master will scold us for it." -The young man continued to advance, following the sailors, -who chose a firm footing. Thirty strides brought them to dry -land the young man stamped on the ground to shake off the -wet, and looked around for some one to show him his road, -for it was quite dark. Just as he turned, a hand rested on -his shoulder, and a voice which made him shudder exclaimed, -"Goodevening, Maximilian you are punctual, thank you" -"Ah, is it you, count?" said the young man, in an almost -joyful accent, pressing Monte Cristo's hand with both his -own. -"Yes you see I am as exact as you are. But you are -dripping, my dear fellow you must change your clothes, as -Calypso said to Telemachus. Come, I have a habitation -prepared for you in which you will soon forget fatigue and -cold." Monte Cristo perceived that the young man had turned -around indeed, Morrel saw with surprise that the men who -had brought him had left without being paid, or uttering a -word. Already the sound of their oars might be heard as they -returned to the yacht. -"Oh, yes," said the count, "you are looking for the -sailors." -"Yes, I paid them nothing, and yet they are gone." -"Never mind that, Maximilian," said Monte Cristo, smiling. -"I have made an agreement with the navy, that the access to -my island shall be free of all charge. I have made a -bargain." Morrel looked at the count with surprise. "Count," -he said, "you are not the same here as in Paris." -"How so?" -"Here you laugh." The count's brow became clouded. "You are -right to recall me to myself, Maximilian," he said "I was -delighted to see you again, and forgot for the moment that -all happiness is fleeting." -"Oh, no, no, count," cried Maximilian, seizing the count's -hands, "pray laugh be happy, and prove to me, by your -indifference, that life is endurable to sufferers. Oh, how -charitable, kind, and good you are you affect this gayety -to inspire me with courage." -"You are wrong, Morrel I was really happy." -"Then you forget me, so much the better." -"How so?" -"Yes for as the gladiator said to the emperor, when he -entered the arena, "He who is about to die salutes you.'" -"Then you are not consoled?" asked the count, surprised. -"Oh," exclaimed Morrel, with a glance full of bitter -reproach, "do you think it possible that I could be?" -"Listen," said the count. "Do you understand the meaning of -my words? You cannot take me for a commonplace man, a mere -rattle, emitting a vague and senseless noise. When I ask you -if you are consoled, I speak to you as a man for whom the -human heart has no secrets. Well, Morrel, let us both -examine the depths of your heart. Do you still feel the same -feverish impatience of grief which made you start like a -wounded lion? Have you still that devouring thirst which can -only be appeased in the grave? Are you still actuated by the -regret which drags the living to the pursuit of death or -are you only suffering from the prostration of fatigue and -the weariness of hope deferred? Has the loss of memory -rendered it impossible for you to weep? Oh, my dear friend, -if this be the case, if you can no longer weep, if your -frozen heart be dead, if you put all your trust in God, -then, Maximilian, you are consoled do not complain." -"Count," said Morrel, in a firm and at the same time soft -voice, "listen to me, as to a man whose thoughts are raised -to heaven, though he remains on earth I come to die in the -arms of a friend. Certainly, there are people whom I love. I -love my sister Julie, I love her husband Emmanuel but I -require a strong mind to smile on my last moments. My sister -would be bathed in tears and fainting I could not bear to -see her suffer. Emmanuel would tear the weapon from my hand, -and alarm the house with his cries. You, count, who are more -than mortal, will, I am sure, lead me to death by a pleasant -path, will you not?" -"My friend," said the count, "I have still one doubt, are -you weak enough to pride yourself upon your sufferings?" -"No, indeed, I am calm," said Morrel, giving his hand to -the count "my pulse does not beat slower or faster than -usual. No, I feel that I have reached the goal, and I will -go no farther. You told me to wait and hope do you know -what you did, unfortunate adviser? I waited a month, or -rather I suffered for a month I did hope man is a poor -wretched creature, I did hope. What I cannot tell, -something wonderful, an absurdity, a miracle, of what -nature he alone can tell who has mingled with our reason -that folly we call hope. Yes, I did wait yes, I did hope, -count, and during this quarter of an hour we have been -talking together, you have unconsciously wounded, tortured -my heart, for every word you have uttered proved that there -was no hope for me. Oh, count, I shall sleep calmly, -deliciously in the arms of death." Morrel uttered these -words with an energy which made the count shudder. "My -friend," continued Morrel, "you named the fifth of October -as the end of the period of waiting, today is the fifth -of October," he took out his watch, "it is now nine o'clock, -I have yet three hours to live." -"Be it so," said the count, "come." Morrel mechanically -followed the count, and they had entered the grotto before -he perceived it. He felt a carpet under his feet, a door -opened, perfumes surrounded him, and a brilliant light -dazzled his eyes. Morrel hesitated to advance he dreaded -the enervating effect of all that he saw. Monte Cristo drew -him in gently. "Why should we not spend the last three hours -remaining to us of life, like those ancient Romans, who when -condemned by Nero, their emperor and heir, sat down at a -table covered with flowers, and gently glided into death, -amid the perfume of heliotropes and roses?" Morrel smiled. -"As you please," he said "death is always death, that is -forgetfulness, repose, exclusion from life, and therefore -from grief." He sat down, and Monte Cristo placed himself -opposite to him. They were in the marvellous diningroom -before described, where the statues had baskets on their -heads always filled with fruits and flowers. Morrel had -looked carelessly around, and had probably noticed nothing. -"Let us talk like men," he said, looking at the count. -"Go on" -"Count," said Morrel, "you are the epitome of all human -knowledge, and you seem like a being descended from a wiser -and more advanced world than ours." -"There is something true in what you say," said the count, -with that smile which made him so handsome "I have -descended from a planet called grief." -"I believe all you tell me without questioning its meaning -for instance, you told me to live, and I did live you told -me to hope, and I almost did so. I am almost inclined to ask -you, as though you had experienced death, "is it painful to -die?'" -Monte Cristo looked upon Morrel with indescribable -tenderness. "Yes," he said, "yes, doubtless it is painful, -if you violently break the outer covering which obstinately -begs for life. If you plunge a dagger into your flesh, if -you insinuate a bullet into your brain, which the least -shock disorders, then certainly, you will suffer pain, -and you will repent quitting a life for a repose you have -bought at so dear a price." -"Yes I know that there is a secret of luxury and pain in -death, as well as in life the only thing is to understand -it." -"You have spoken truly, Maximilian according to the care we -bestow upon it, death is either a friend who rocks us gently -as a nurse, or an enemy who violently drags the soul from -the body. Some day, when the world is much older, and when -mankind will be masters of all the destructive powers in -nature, to serve for the general good of humanity when -mankind, as you were just saying, have discovered the -secrets of death, then that death will become as sweet and -voluptuous as a slumber in the arms of your beloved." -"And if you wished to die, you would choose this death, -count?" -"Yes." -Morrel extended his hand. "Now I understand," he said, "why -you had me brought here to this desolate spot, in the midst -of the ocean, to this subterranean palace it was because -you loved me, was it not, count? It was because you loved me -well enough to give me one of those sweet means of death of -which we were speaking a death without agony, a death which -allows me to fade away while pronouncing Valentine's name -and pressing your hand." -"Yes, you have guessed rightly, Morrel," said the count, -"that is what I intended." -"Thanks the idea that tomorrow I shall no longer suffer, is -sweet to my heart." -"Do you then regret nothing?" -"No," replied Morrel. -"Not even me?" asked the count with deep emotion. Morrel's -clear eye was for the moment clouded, then it shone with -unusual lustre, and a large tear rolled down his cheek. -"What," said the count, "do you still regret anything in the -world, and yet die?" -"Oh, I entreat you," exclaimed Morrel in a low voice, "do -not speak another word, count do not prolong my -punishment." The count fancied that he was yielding, and -this belief revived the horrible doubt that had overwhelmed -him at the Chateau d'If. "I am endeavoring," he thought, "to -make this man happy I look upon this restitution as a -weight thrown into the scale to balance the evil I have -wrought. Now, supposing I am deceived, supposing this man -has not been unhappy enough to merit happiness. Alas, what -would become of me who can only atone for evil by doing -good?" Then he said aloud "Listen, Morrel, I see your grief -is great, but still you do not like to risk your soul." -Morrel smiled sadly. "Count," he said, "I swear to you my -soul is no longer my own." -"Maximilian, you know I have no relation in the world. I -have accustomed myself to regard you as my son well, then, -to save my son, I will sacrifice my life, nay, even my -fortune." -"What do you mean?" -"I mean, that you wish to quit life because you do not -understand all the enjoyments which are the fruits of a -large fortune. Morrel, I possess nearly a hundred millions -and I give them to you with such a fortune you can attain -every wish. Are you ambitious? Every career is open to you. -Overturn the world, change its character, yield to mad -ideas, be even criminal but live." -"Count, I have your word," said Morrel coldly then taking -out his watch, he added, "It is halfpast eleven." -"Morrel, can you intend it in my house, under my very eyes?" -"Then let me go," said Maximilian, "or I shall think you did -not love me for my own sake, but for yours" and he arose. -"It is well," said Monte Cristo whose countenance brightened -at these words "you wish you are inflexible. Yes, as you -said, you are indeed wretched and a miracle alone can cure -you. Sit down, Morrel, and wait." -Morrel obeyed the count arose, and unlocking a closet with -a key suspended from his gold chain, took from it a little -silver casket, beautifully carved and chased, the corners of -which represented four bending figures, similar to the -Caryatides, the forms of women, symbols of the angels -aspiring to heaven. He placed the casket on the table then -opening it took out a little golden box, the top of which -flew open when touched by a secret spring. This box -contained an unctuous substance partly solid, of which it -was impossible to discover the color, owing to the -reflection of the polished gold, sapphires, rubies, -emeralds, which ornamented the box. It was a mixed mass of -blue, red, and gold. The count took out a small quantity of -this with a gilt spoon, and offered it to Morrel, fixing a -long steadfast glance upon him. It was then observable that -the substance was greenish. -"This is what you asked for," he said, "and what I promised -to give you." -"I thank you from the depths of my heart," said the young -man, taking the spoon from the hands of Monte Cristo. The -count took another spoon, and again dipped it into the -golden box. "What are you going to do, my friend?" asked -Morrel, arresting his hand. -"Well, the fact is, Morrel, I was thinking that I too am -weary of life, and since an opportunity presents itself" -"Stay" said the young man. "You who love, and are beloved -you, who have faith and hope, oh, do not follow my -example. In your case it would be a crime. Adieu, my noble -and generous friend, adieu I will go and tell Valentine -what you have done for me." And slowly, though without any -hesitation, only waiting to press the count's hand -fervently, he swallowed the mysterious substance offered by -Monte Cristo. Then they were both silent. Ali, mute and -attentive, brought the pipes and coffee, and disappeared. By -degrees, the light of the lamps gradually faded in the hands -of the marble statues which held them, and the perfumes -appeared less powerful to Morrel. Seated opposite to him, -Monte Cristo watched him in the shadow, and Morrel saw -nothing but the bright eyes of the count. An overpowering -sadness took possession of the young man, his hands relaxed -their hold, the objects in the room gradually lost their -form and color, and his disturbed vision seemed to perceive -doors and curtains open in the walls. -"Friend," he cried, "I feel that I am dying thanks" He -made a last effort to extend his hand, but it fell powerless -beside him. Then it appeared to him that Monte Cristo -smiled, not with the strange and fearful expression which -had sometimes revealed to him the secrets of his heart, but -with the benevolent kindness of a father for a child. At the -same time the count appeared to increase in stature, his -form, nearly double its usual height, stood out in relief -against the red tapestry, his black hair was thrown back, -and he stood in the attitude of an avenging angel. Morrel, -overpowered, turned around in the armchair a delicious -torpor permeated every vein. A change of ideas presented -themselves to his brain, like a new design on the -kaleidoscope. Enervated, prostrate, and breathless, he -became unconscious of outward objects he seemed to be -entering that vague delirium preceding death. He wished once -again to press the count's hand, but his own was immovable. -He wished to articulate a last farewell, but his tongue lay -motionless and heavy in his throat, like a stone at the -mouth of a sepulchre. Involuntarily his languid eyes closed, -and still through his eyelashes a wellknown form seemed to -move amid the obscurity with which he thought himself -enveloped. -The count had just opened a door. Immediately a brilliant -light from the next room, or rather from the palace -adjoining, shone upon the room in which he was gently -gliding into his last sleep. Then he saw a woman of -marvellous beauty appear on the threshold of the door -separating the two rooms. Pale, and sweetly smiling, she -looked like an angel of mercy conjuring the angel of -vengeance. "Is it heaven that opens before me?" thought the -dying man "that angel resembles the one I have lost." Monte -Cristo pointed out Morrel to the young woman, who advanced -towards him with clasped hands and a smile upon her lips. -"Valentine, Valentine" he mentally ejaculated but his lips -uttered no sound, and as though all his strength were -centred in that internal emotion, he sighed and closed his -eyes. Valentine rushed towards him his lips again moved. -"He is calling you," said the count "he to whom you have -confided your destiny he from whom death would have -separated you, calls you to him. Happily, I vanquished -death. Henceforth, Valentine, you will never again be -separated on earth, since he has rushed into death to find -you. Without me, you would both have died. May God accept my -atonement in the preservation of these two existences" -Valentine seized the count's hand, and in her irresistible -impulse of joy carried it to her lips. -"Oh, thank me again" said the count "tell me till you are -weary, that I have restored you to happiness you do not -know how much I require this assurance." -"Oh, yes, yes, I thank you with all my heart," said -Valentine "and if you doubt the sincerity of my gratitude, -oh, then, ask Haidee ask my beloved sister Haidee, who ever -since our departure from France, has caused me to wait -patiently for this happy day, while talking to me of you." -"You then love Haidee?" asked Monte Cristo with an emotion -he in vain endeavored to dissimulate. -"Oh, yes, with all my soul." -"Well, then, listen, Valentine," said the count "I have a -favor to ask of you." -"Of me? Oh, am I happy enough for that?" -"Yes you have called Haidee your sister, let her become -so indeed, Valentine render her all the gratitude you fancy -that you owe to me protect her, for" the count's voice was -thick with emotion "henceforth she will be alone in the -world." -"Alone in the world" repeated a voice behind the count, -"and why?" -Monte Cristo turned around Haidee was standing pale, -motionless, looking at the count with an expression of -fearful amazement. -"Because tomorrow, Haidee, you will be free you will then -assume your proper position in society, for I will not allow -my destiny to overshadow yours. Daughter of a prince, I -restore to you the riches and name of your father." -Haidee became pale, and lifting her transparent hands to -heaven, exclaimed in a voice stifled with tears, "Then you -leave me, my lord?" -"Haidee, Haidee, you are young and beautiful forget even my -name, and be happy." -"It is well," said Haidee "your order shall be executed, my -lord I will forget even your name, and be happy." And she -stepped back to retire. -"Oh, heavens," exclaimed Valentine, who was supporting the -head of Morrel on her shoulder, "do you not see how pale she -is? Do you not see how she suffers?" -Haidee answered with a heartrending expression, "Why should -he understand this, my sister? He is my master, and I am his -slave he has the right to notice nothing." -The count shuddered at the tones of a voice which penetrated -the inmost recesses of his heart his eyes met those of the -young girl and he could not bear their brilliancy. "Oh, -heavens," exclaimed Monte Cristo, "can my suspicions be -correct? Haidee, would it please you not to leave me?" -"I am young," gently replied Haidee "I love the life you -have made so sweet to me, and I should be sorry to die." -"You mean, then, that if I leave you, Haidee" -"I should die yes, my lord." -"Do you then love me?" -"Oh, Valentine, he asks if I love him. Valentine, tell him -if you love Maximilian." The count felt his heart dilate and -throb he opened his arms, and Haidee, uttering a cry, -sprang into them. "Oh, yes," she cried, "I do love you I -love you as one loves a father, brother, husband I love you -as my life, for you are the best, the noblest of created -beings" -"Let it be, then, as you wish, sweet angel God has -sustained me in my struggle with my enemies, and has given -me this reward he will not let me end my triumph in -suffering I wished to punish myself, but he has pardoned -me. Love me then, Haidee Who knows? perhaps your love will -make me forget all that I do not wish to remember." -"What do you mean, my lord?" -"I mean that one word from you has enlightened me more than -twenty years of slow experience I have but you in the -world, Haidee through you I again take hold on life, -through you I shall suffer, through you rejoice." -"Do you hear him, Valentine?" exclaimed Haidee "he says -that through me he will suffer through me, who would -yield my life for his." The count withdrew for a moment. -"Have I discovered the truth?" he said "but whether it be -for recompense or punishment, I accept my fate. Come, -Haidee, come" and throwing his arm around the young girl's -waist, he pressed the hand of Valentine, and disappeared. -An hour had nearly passed, during which Valentine, -breathless and motionless, watched steadfastly over Morrel. -At length she felt his heart beat, a faint breath played -upon his lips, a slight shudder, announcing the return of -life, passed through the young man's frame. At length his -eyes opened, but they were at first fixed and -expressionless then sight returned, and with it feeling and -grief. "Oh," he cried, in an accent of despair, "the count -has deceived me I am yet living" and extending his hand -towards the table, he seized a knife. -"Dearest," exclaimed Valentine, with her adorable smile, -"awake, and look at me" Morrel uttered a loud exclamation, -and frantic, doubtful, dazzled, as though by a celestial -vision, he fell upon his knees. -The next morning at daybreak, Valentine and Morrel were -walking arminarm on the seashore, Valentine relating how -Monte Cristo had appeared in her room, explained everything, -revealed the crime, and, finally, how he had saved her life -by enabling her to simulate death. They had found the door -of the grotto opened, and gone forth on the azure dome of -heaven still glittered a few remaining stars. Morrel soon -perceived a man standing among the rocks, apparently -awaiting a sign from them to advance, and pointed him out to -Valentine. "Ah, it is Jacopo," she said, "the captain of the -yacht" and she beckoned him towards them. -"Do you wish to speak to us?" asked Morrel. -"I have a letter to give you from the count." -"From the count" murmured the two young people. -"Yes read it." Morrel opened the letter, and read -"My Dear Maximilian, -"There is a felucca for you at anchor. Jacopo will carry you -to Leghorn, where Monsieur Noirtier awaits his -granddaughter, whom he wishes to bless before you lead her -to the altar. All that is in this grotto, my friend, my -house in the Champs Elysees, and my chateau at Treport, are -the marriage gifts bestowed by Edmond Dantes upon the son of -his old master, Morrel. Mademoiselle de Villefort will share -them with you for I entreat her to give to the poor the -immense fortune reverting to her from her father, now a -madman, and her brother who died last September with his -mother. Tell the angel who will watch over your future -destiny, Morrel, to pray sometimes for a man, who like Satan -thought himself for an instant equal to God, but who now -acknowledges with Christian humility that God alone -possesses supreme power and infinite wisdom. Perhaps those -prayers may soften the remorse he feels in his heart. As for -you, Morrel, this is the secret of my conduct towards you. -There is neither happiness nor misery in the world there is -only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. -He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience -supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, -Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of living. -"Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and -never forget that until the day when God shall deign to -reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in -these two words, "Wait and hope.' Your friend, -"Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte Cristo." -During the perusal of this letter, which informed Valentine -for the first time of the madness of her father and the -death of her brother, she became pale, a heavy sigh escaped -from her bosom, and tears, not the less painful because they -were silent, ran down her cheeks her happiness cost her -very dear. Morrel looked around uneasily. "But," he said, -"the count's generosity is too overwhelming Valentine will -be satisfied with my humble fortune. Where is the count, -friend? Lead me to him." Jacopo pointed towards the horizon. -"What do you mean?" asked Valentine. "Where is the count? -where is Haidee?" -"Look" said Jacopo. -The eyes of both were fixed upon the spot indicated by the -sailor, and on the blue line separating the sky from the -Mediterranean Sea, they perceived a large white sail. -"Gone," said Morrel "gone adieu, my friend adieu, my -father" -"Gone," murmured Valentine "adieu, my sweet Haidee -adieu, my sister" -"Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?" said -Morrel with tearful eyes. -"Darling," replied Valentine, "has not the count just told -us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words? "Wait -and hope.'" -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen - in our series by Jane Austen -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. -Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts -eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since -These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers -Title Pride and Prejudice -Author Jane Austen -Release Date Jun, [EBook ] -[Most recently updated April , ] -Edition -Language English -Character set encoding ASCII - START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE -Pride and Prejudice -by Jane Austen -Chapter -It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in -possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. -However little known the feelings or views of such a man may -be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well -fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered -the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters. -"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you -heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?" -Mr. Bennet replied that he had not. -"But it is," returned she "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and -she told me all about it." -Mr. Bennet made no answer. -"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife -impatiently. -"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it." -This was invitation enough. -"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield -is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of -England that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to -see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed -with Mr. Morris immediately that he is to take possession -before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the -house by the end of next week." -"What is his name?" -"Bingley." -"Is he married or single?" -"Oh Single, my dear, to be sure A single man of large -fortune four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our -girls" -"How so? How can it affect them?" -"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so -tiresome You must know that I am thinking of his marrying -one of them." -"Is that his design in settling here?" -"Design Nonsense, how can you talk so But it is very likely -that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you -must visit him as soon as he comes." -"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you -may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still -better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley -may like you the best of the party." -"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of -beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. -When a woman has five grownup daughters, she ought to give -over thinking of her own beauty." -"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of." -"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when -he comes into the neighbourhood." -"It is more than I engage for, I assure you." -"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment -it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are -determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you -know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will -be impossible for us to visit him if you do not." -"You are overscrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will -be very glad to see you and I will send a few lines by you to -assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he -chooses of the girls though I must throw in a good word for -my little Lizzy." -"I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better -than the others and I am sure she is not half so handsome as -Jane, nor half so goodhumoured as Lydia. But you are always -giving her the preference." -"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he -"they are all silly and ignorant like other girls but Lizzy -has something more of quickness than her sisters." -"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a -way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion -for my poor nerves." -"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your -nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention -them with consideration these last twenty years at least." -"Ah, you do not know what I suffer." -"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young -men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood." -"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since -you will not visit them." -"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will -visit them all." -Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, -reserve, and caprice, that the experience of threeandtwenty -years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his -character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a -woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain -temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. -The business of her life was to get her daughters married its -solace was visiting and news. -Chapter -Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. -Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last -always assuring his wife that he should not go and till the -evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. -It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his -second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly -addressed her with -"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy." -"We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes," said -her mother resentfully, "since we are not to visit." -"But you forget, mamma," said Elizabeth, "that we shall meet -him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce -him." -"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two -nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I -have no opinion of her." -"No more have I," said Mr. Bennet "and I am glad to find that -you do not depend on her serving you." -Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to -contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters. -"Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven's sake Have a little -compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces." -"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs," said her father "she -times them ill." -"I do not cough for my own amusement," replied Kitty fretfully. -"When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?" -"Tomorrow fortnight." -"Aye, so it is," cried her mother, "and Mrs. Long does not come -back till the day before so it will be impossible for her to -introduce him, for she will not know him herself." -"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and -introduce Mr. Bingley to her." -"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted -with him myself how can you be so teasing?" -"I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is -certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by -the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture somebody else -will and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their -chance and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, -if you decline the office, I will take it on myself." -The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, -"Nonsense, nonsense" -"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" cried -he. "Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress -that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with -you there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of -deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts." -Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how. -"While Mary is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us return -to Mr. Bingley." -"I am sick of Mr. Bingley," cried his wife. -"I am sorry to hear that but why did not you tell me that -before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would -not have called on him. It is very unlucky but as I have -actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now." -The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished that of -Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest though, when the first -tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she -had expected all the while. -"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet But I knew I should -persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well -to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am and it -is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning -and never said a word about it till now." -"Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose," said Mr. -Bennet and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the -raptures of his wife. -"What an excellent father you have, girls" said she, when the -door was shut. "I do not know how you will ever make him -amends for his kindness or me, either, for that matter. At our -time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making -new acquaintances every day but for your sakes, we would do -anything. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare -say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball." -"Oh" said Lydia stoutly, "I am not afraid for though I am the -youngest, I'm the tallest." -The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he -would return Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they -should ask him to dinner. -Chapter -Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her -five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw -from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. -They attacked him in various wayswith barefaced questions, -ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises but he eluded the -skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the -secondhand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Lucas. Her -report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted -with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely -agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next -assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful -To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love -and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were entertained. -"If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at -Netherfield," said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, "and all the -others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for." -In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat -about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained -hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of -whose beauty he had heard much but he saw only the father. -The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the -advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore -a blue coat, and rode a black horse. -An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched and -already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do -credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which -deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the -following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour -of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. -She could not imagine what business he could have in town so -soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire and she began to fear -that he might be always flying about from one place to another, -and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas -quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone -to London only to get a large party for the ball and a report -soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and -seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved -over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day -before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought -only six with him from Londonhis five sisters and a cousin. -And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of -only five altogetherMr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband -of the eldest, and another young man. -Mr. Bingley was goodlooking and gentlemanlike he had a pleasant -countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine -women, with an air of decided fashion. His brotherinlaw, Mr. -Hurst, merely looked the gentleman but his friend Mr. Darcy soon -drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome -features, noble mien, and the report which was in general -circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having -ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine -figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than -Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about -half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned -the tide of his popularity for he was discovered to be proud -to be above his company, and above being pleased and not all his -large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most -forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be -compared with his friend. -Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the -principal people in the room he was lively and unreserved, -danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, -and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable -qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between -him and his friend Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst -and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any -other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about -the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His -character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable -man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come -there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. -Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened -into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her -daughters. -Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, -to sit down for two dances and during part of that time, -Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a -conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the -dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it. -"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see -you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had -much better dance." -"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am -particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as -this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and -there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a -punishment to me to stand up with." -"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Mr. Bingley, -"for a kingdom Upon my honour, I never met with so many -pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening and there are -several of them you see uncommonly pretty." -"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," -said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet. -"Oh She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld But -there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is -very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my -partner to introduce you." -"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a -moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own -and coldly said "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to -tempt me I am in no humour at present to give consequence -to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better -return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting -your time with me." -Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off and -Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. -She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends -for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in -anything ridiculous. -The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole -family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much -admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with -her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane -was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in -a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane's pleasure. Mary had heard -herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished -girl in the neighbourhood and Catherine and Lydia had been -fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all -that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, -therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they -lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They -found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of -time and on the present occasion he had a good deal of -curiosity as to the events of an evening which had raised such -splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife's -views on the stranger would be disappointed but he soon -found out that he had a different story to hear. -"Oh my dear Mr. Bennet," as she entered the room, "we have -had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you -had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. -Everybody said how well she looked and Mr. Bingley thought -her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice Only think of -that, my dear he actually danced with her twice and she was -the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. -First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him -stand up with her But, however, he did not admire her at all -indeed, nobody can, you know and he seemed quite struck with -Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she -was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then -the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with -Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two -sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger" -"If he had had any compassion for me," cried her husband -impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much For God's -sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained -his ankle in the first place" -"Oh my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so -excessively handsome And his sisters are charming women. -I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. -I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's gown" -Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against -any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek -another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness -of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. -Darcy. -"But I can assure you," she added, "that Lizzy does not lose -much by not suiting his fancy for he is a most disagreeable, -horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited -that there was no enduring him He walked here, and he walked -there, fancying himself so very great Not handsome enough to -dance with I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given -him one of your setdowns. I quite detest the man." -Chapter -When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been -cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her -sister just how very much she admired him. -"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible, -goodhumoured, lively and I never saw such happy mannersso -much ease, with such perfect good breeding" -"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man -ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby -complete." -"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second -time. I did not expect such a compliment." -"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference -between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and -me never. What could be more natural than his asking you -again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times -as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his -gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I -give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider -person." -"Dear Lizzy" -"Oh you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in -general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are -good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of -a human being in your life." -"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone but I always -speak what I think." -"I know you do and it is that which makes the wonder. With your -good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense -of others Affectation of candour is common enoughone meets -with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or -designto take the good of everybody's character and make it -still better, and say nothing of the badbelongs to you alone. -And so you like this man's sisters, too, do you? Their manners -are not equal to his." -"Certainly notat first. But they are very pleasing women when -you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her -brother, and keep his house and I am much mistaken if we shall -not find a very charming neighbour in her." -Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced their -behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in -general and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy -of temper than her sister, and with a judgement too unassailed by -any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve -them. They were in fact very fine ladies not deficient in good -humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making -themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and -conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in -one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of -twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more -than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and -were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of -themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable -family in the north of England a circumstance more deeply -impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune -and their own had been acquired by trade. -Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a -hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to -purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley -intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county -but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of -a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the -easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the -remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next -generation to purchase. -His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own but, -though he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley -was by no means unwilling to preside at his tablenor was Mrs. -Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less -disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. -Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted -by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. -He did look at it, and into it for halfanhourwas pleased with -the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the -owner said in its praise, and took it immediately. -Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in -spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to -Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, -though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, -and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the -strength of Darcy's regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and -of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy -was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy -was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and -fastidious, and his manners, though wellbred, were not inviting. -In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was -sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually -giving offense. -The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was -sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with more -pleasant people or prettier girls in his life everybody had been -most kind and attentive to him there had been no formality, no -stiffness he had soon felt acquainted with all the room and, as -to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. -Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom -there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had -felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention -or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she -smiled too much. -Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be sobut still they -admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet -girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of. -Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their -brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as -he chose. -Chapter -Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom -the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas -had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a -tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an -address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had -perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust -to his business, and to his residence in a small market town -and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family -to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that -period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his -own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself -solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his -rank, it did not render him supercilious on the contrary, he was -all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and -obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous. -Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to -be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several -children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young -woman, about twentyseven, was Elizabeth's intimate friend. -That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to -talk over a ball was absolutely necessary and the morning after -the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to -communicate. -"You began the evening well, Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet with -civil selfcommand to Miss Lucas. "You were Mr. Bingley's -first choice." -"Yes but he seemed to like his second better." -"Oh you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her -twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired herindeed -I rather believe he didI heard something about itbut I -hardly know whatsomething about Mr. Robinson." -"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson -did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he -liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there -were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought -the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last -question 'Oh the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt there -cannot be two opinions on that point.'" -"Upon my word Well, that is very decided indeedthat does -seem as ifbut, however, it may all come to nothing, you know." -"My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Eliza," -said Charlotte. "Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to -as his friend, is he?poor Elizato be only just tolerable." -"I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by -his illtreatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it -would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long -told me last night that he sat close to her for halfanhour -without once opening his lips." -"Are you quite sure, ma'am?is not there a little mistake?" -said Jane. "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her." -"Ayebecause she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, -and he could not help answering her but she said he seemed -quite angry at being spoke to." -"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks much, -unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is -remarkably agreeable." -"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very -agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess -how it was everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I -dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep -a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise." -"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Miss Lucas, -"but I wish he had danced with Eliza." -"Another time, Lizzy," said her mother, "I would not dance -with him, if I were you." -"I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance -with him." -"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much as -pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot -wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, -everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I -may so express it, he has a right to be proud." -"That is very true," replied Elizabeth, "and I could easily -forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine." -"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity -of her reflections, "is a very common failing, I believe. By -all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common -indeed that human nature is particularly prone to it, and -that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of -selfcomplacency on the score of some quality or other, real -or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though -the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud -without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of -ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us." -"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," cried a young Lucas, who -came with his sisters, "I should not care how proud I was. I -would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a -day." -"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said -Mrs. Bennet "and if I were to see you at it, I should take away -your bottle directly." -The boy protested that she should not she continued to declare -that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit. -Chapter -The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. -The visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet's -pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss -Bingley and though the mother was found to be intolerable, -and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of -being better acquainted with them was expressed towards -the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the -greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in -their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, -and could not like them though their kindness to Jane, such as it -was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence -of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident -whenever they met, that he did admire her and to her it was -equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which -she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a -way to be very much in love but she considered with pleasure -that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, -since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure -of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would -guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She -mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas. -"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to -impose on the public in such a case but it is sometimes a -disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her -affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose -the opportunity of fixing him and it will then be but poor -consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is -so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that -it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freelya -slight preference is natural enough but there are very few of us -who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. -In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection -than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly but he -may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on." -"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. -If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, -indeed, not to discover it too." -"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as -you do." -"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to -conceal it, he must find it out." -"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though -Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many -hours together and, as they always see each other in large -mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be -employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make -the most of every halfhour in which she can command his -attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure -for falling in love as much as she chooses." -"Your plan is a good one," replied Elizabeth, "where nothing is -in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were -determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I -should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feelings she is not -acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the -degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has -known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him -at Meryton she saw him one morning at his own house, and -has since dined with him in company four times. This is not -quite enough to make her understand his character." -"Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she -might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite but -you must remember that four evenings have also been spent -togetherand four evenings may do a great deal." -"Yes these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that -they both like Vingtun better than Commerce but with respect -to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much -has been unfolded." -"Well," said Charlotte, "I wish Jane success with all my heart -and if she were married to him tomorrow, I should think she -had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying -his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is -entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties -are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, -it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always -continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their -share of vexation and it is better to know as little as possible -of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life." -"You make me laugh, Charlotte but it is not sound. You know -it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way -yourself." -Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, -Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming -an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy -had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty he had looked at -her without admiration at the ball and when they next met, he -looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it -clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature -in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly -intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this -discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he -had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect -symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure -to be light and pleasing and in spite of his asserting that her -manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught -by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware -to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, -and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with. -He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards -conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with -others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William -Lucas's, where a large party were assembled. -"What does Mr. Darcy mean," said she to Charlotte, "by -listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?" -"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer." -"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I -see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not -begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of -him." -On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without -seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied -her friend to mention such a subject to him which immediately -provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said -"Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself -uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster -to give us a ball at Meryton?" -"With great energy but it is always a subject which makes a lady -energetic." -"You are severe on us." -"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I -am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what -follows." -"You are a very strange creature by way of a friendalways -wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody -If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been -invaluable but as it is, I would really rather not sit down -before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best -performers." On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, -"Very well, if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at -Mr. Darcy, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of -course familiar with 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge' -and I shall keep mine to swell my song." -Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. -After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties -of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded -at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence -of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for -knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for -display. -Mary had neither genius nor taste and though vanity had given -her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and -conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of -excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, -had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not -playing half so well and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, -was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish -airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the -Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at -one end of the room. -Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode -of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and -was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir -William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began -"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy -There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one -of the first refinements of polished society." -"Certainly, sir and it has the advantage also of being in vogue -amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage -can dance." -Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully," he -continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group "and I -doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. -Darcy." -"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir." -"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the -sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?" -"Never, sir." -"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the -place?" -"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can -avoid it." -"You have a house in town, I conclude?" -Mr. Darcy bowed. -"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myselffor I am -fond of superior society but I did not feel quite certain that the -air of London would agree with Lady Lucas." -He paused in hopes of an answer but his companion was not -disposed to make any and Elizabeth at that instant moving -towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very -gallant thing, and called out to her -"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you -must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very -desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when -so much beauty is before you." And, taking her hand, he would -have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, -was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, -and said with some discomposure to Sir William -"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat -you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a -partner." -Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the -honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined nor -did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at -persuasion. -"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to -deny me the happiness of seeing you and though this gentleman -dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I -am sure, to oblige us for one halfhour." -"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Elizabeth, smiling. -"He is, indeed but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss -Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisancefor who would -object to such a partner?" -Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had -not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her -with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley -"I can guess the subject of your reverie." -"I should imagine not." -"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many -evenings in this mannerin such society and indeed I am quite -of your opinion. I was never more annoyed The insipidity, and -yet the noisethe nothingness, and yet the selfimportance of all -those people What would I give to hear your strictures on them" -"You conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was -more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very -great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty -woman can bestow." -Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired -he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such -reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity -"Miss Elizabeth Bennet." -"Miss Elizabeth Bennet" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all -astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?and -pray, when am I to wish you joy?" -"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A -lady's imagination is very rapid it jumps from admiration to -love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would -be wishing me joy." -"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is -absolutely settled. You will be having a charming motherinlaw, -indeed and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you." -He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to -entertain herself in this manner and as his composure convinced -her that all was safe, her wit flowed long. -Chapter -Mr. Bennet's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of -two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was -entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation and their -mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could -but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an -attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds. -She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk -to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother -settled in London in a respectable line of trade. -The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton a -most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually -tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to -their aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The two -youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly -frequent in these attentions their minds were more vacant than -their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk to -Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and -furnish conversation for the evening and however bare of news -the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn -some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well -supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of -a militia regiment in the neighbourhood it was to remain the -whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters. -Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most -interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their -knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their -lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to -know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and -this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. -They could talk of nothing but officers and Mr. Bingley's large -fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, -was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of -an ensign. -After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. -Bennet coolly observed -"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must -be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it -some time, but I am now convinced." -Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer but Lydia, -with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of -Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the -day, as he was going the next morning to London. -"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you should -be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think -slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, -however." -"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it." -"Yesbut as it happens, they are all of them very clever." -"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not -agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every -particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two -youngest daughters uncommonly foolish." -"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have -the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I -dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. -I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very welland, -indeed, so I do still at my heart and if a smart young colonel, -with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I -shall not say nay to him and I thought Colonel Forster looked -very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals." -"Mamma," cried Lydia, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster and -Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did -when they first came she sees them now very often standing in -Clarke's library." -Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the -footman with a note for Miss Bennet it came from Netherfield, -and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes -sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while -her daughter read, -"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he -say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us make haste, my love." -"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane, and then read it aloud. -"MY DEAR FRIEND, -"If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa -and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest -of our lives, for a whole day's teteatete between two women -can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on -receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with -the officers.Yours ever, -"CAROLINE BINGLEY" -"With the officers" cried Lydia. "I wonder my aunt did not tell -us of that." -"Dining out," said Mrs. Bennet, "that is very unlucky." -"Can I have the carriage?" said Jane. -"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems -likely to rain and then you must stay all night." -"That would be a good scheme," said Elizabeth, "if you were -sure that they would not offer to send her home." -"Oh but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to -Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs." -"I had much rather go in the coach." -"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. -They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?" -"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them." -"But if you have got them today," said Elizabeth, "my mother's -purpose will be answered." -She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that -the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on -horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many -cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered -Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters -were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain -continued the whole evening without intermission Jane certainly -could not come back. -"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed" said Mrs. Bennet more -than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till -the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity -of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant -from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth -"MY DEAREST LIZZY, -"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to -be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends -will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also -on my seeing Mr. Jonestherefore do not be alarmed if you should -hear of his having been to meand, excepting a sore throat and -headache, there is not much the matter with me.Yours, etc." -"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the -note aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of -illnessif she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it -was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders." -"Oh I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little -trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she -stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could -have the carriage." -Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, -though the carriage was not to be had and as she was no -horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her -resolution. -"How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of such -a thing, in all this dirt You will not be fit to be seen when you -get there." -"I shall be very fit to see Janewhich is all I want." -"Is this a hint to me, Lizzy," said her father, "to send for -the horses?" -"No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is -nothing when one has a motive only three miles. I shall be back -by dinner." -"I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Mary, "but -every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason and, in my -opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is -required." -"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Catherine and -Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young -ladies set off together. -"If we make haste," said Lydia, as they walked along, "perhaps -we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes." -In Meryton they parted the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of -one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, -crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles -and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding -herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty -stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. -She was shown into the breakfastparlour, where all but Jane -were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal -of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early -in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost -incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley and Elizabeth was -convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was -received, however, very politely by them and in their brother's -manners there was something better than politeness there was -good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. -Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration -of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, -and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far -alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast. -Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. -Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and -not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be -taken to her immediately and Jane, who had only been withheld -by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in -her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at -her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, -and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little -besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness -she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her. -When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters and -Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much -affection and solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary -came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be -supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must -endeavour to get the better of it advised her to return to bed, -and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed -readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached -acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment nor were -the other ladies often absent the gentlemen being out, they had, -in fact, nothing to do elsewhere. -When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and -very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, -and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane -testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was -obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to -remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully -consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to -acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of -clothes. -Chapter -At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at halfpast -six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries -which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure -of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, -she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no -means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four -times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have -a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill -themselves and then thought no more of the matter and their -indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them -restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her former dislike. -Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she -could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was -evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and -they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she -believed she was considered by the others. She had very little -notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. -Darcy, her sister scarcely less so and as for Mr. Hurst, by -whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to -eat, drink, and play at cards who, when he found her to prefer -a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her. -When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss -Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. -Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture -of pride and impertinence she had no conversation, no style, no -beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added -"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an -excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this -morning. She really looked almost wild." -"She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. -Very nonsensical to come at all Why must she be scampering -about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so -untidy, so blowsy" -"Yes, and her petticoat I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches -deep in mud, I am absolutely certain and the gown which had -been let down to hide it not doing its office." -"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley "but -this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet -looked remarkably well when she came into the room this -morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice." -"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley -"and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see -your sister make such an exhibition." -"Certainly not." -"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it -is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone What could -she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of -conceited independence, a most countrytown indifference to -decorum." -"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said -Bingley. -"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley in a half -whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your -admiration of her fine eyes." -"Not at all," he replied "they were brightened by the exercise." -A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again -"I have a excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really -a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well -settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low -connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it." -"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney on -Meryton." -"Yes and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside." -"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily. -"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried -Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable." -"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men -of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy. -To this speech Bingley made no answer but his sisters gave it -their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the -expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations. -With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her -room on leaving the diningparlour, and sat with her till -summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth -would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had -the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather -right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On -entering the drawingroom she found the whole party at loo, and -was immediately invited to join them but suspecting them to be -playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, -said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay -below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment. -"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he "that is rather -singular." -"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is -a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else." -"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Elizabeth -"I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things." -"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley -"and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well." -Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards -the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered -to fetch her othersall that his library afforded. -"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my -own credit but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, -I have more than I ever looked into." -Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with -those in the room. -"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should -have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library -you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy" -"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many -generations." -"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are -always buying books." -"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days -as these." -"Neglect I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the -beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your -house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley." -"I wish it may." -"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that -neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There -is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire." -"With all my heart I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will -sell it." -"I am talking of possibilities, Charles." -"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get -Pemberley by purchase than by imitation." -Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her -very little attention for her book and soon laying it wholly -aside, she drew near the cardtable, and stationed herself -between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game. -"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss -Bingley "will she be as tall as I am?" -"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's -height, or rather taller." -"How I long to see her again I never met with anybody who -delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners And -so extremely accomplished for her age Her performance on the -pianoforte is exquisite." -"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have -patience to be so very accomplished as they all are." -"All young ladies accomplished My dear Charles, what do you mean?" -"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, -and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, -and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first -time, without being informed that she was very accomplished." -"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Darcy, -"has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who -deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering -a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your -estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing -more than halfadozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, -that are really accomplished." -"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley. -"Then," observed Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great deal -in your idea of an accomplished woman." -"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it." -"Oh certainly," cried his faithful assistant, "no one can be really -esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is -usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of -music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to -deserve the word and besides all this, she must possess a certain -something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her -voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but -halfdeserved." -"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she -must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of -her mind by extensive reading." -"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished -women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any." -"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility -of all this?" -"I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and -taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united." -Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice -of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew -many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst -called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention -to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at -an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room. -"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was -closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to -recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their -own and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my -opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art." -"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly -addressed, "there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies -sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever -bears affinity to cunning is despicable." -Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to -continue the subject. -Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, -and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being -sent for immediately while his sisters, convinced that no country -advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for -one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of -but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's -proposal and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for -early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. -Bingley was quite uncomfortable his sisters declared that they -were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by -duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his -feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every -attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister. -Chapter -Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and -in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable -answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr. -Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two -elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this -amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, -desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgement of -her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its -contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by -her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family -breakfast. -Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would -have been very miserable but being satisfied on seeing her that -her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering -immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove -her from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her -daughter's proposal of being carried home neither did the -apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all -advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss -Bingley's appearance and invitation, the mother and three -daughter all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met -them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet -worse than she expected. -"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "She is a great deal too -ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. -We must trespass a little longer on your kindness." -"Removed" cried Bingley. "It must not be thought of. My -sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal." -"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Miss Bingley, with cold -civility, "that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention -while she remains with us." -Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. -"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do -not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, -and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the -world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without -exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell -my other girls they are nothing to her. You have a sweet room -here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. -I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. -You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you -have but a short lease." -"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he "and therefore if I -should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in -five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite -fixed here." -"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said -Elizabeth. -"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning -towards her. -"Oh yesI understand you perfectly." -"I wish I might take this for a compliment but to be so easily -seen through I am afraid is pitiful." -"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate -character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours." -"Lizzy," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not -run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home." -"I did not know before," continued Bingley immediately, "that -you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study." -"Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They -have at least that advantage." -"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but a few -subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move -in a very confined and unvarying society." -"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something -new to be observed in them for ever." -"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of -mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is -quite as much of that going on in the country as in town." -Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a -moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she -had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph. -"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the -country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The -country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?" -"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it -and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have -each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either." -"Ayethat is because you have the right disposition. But that -gentleman," looking at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was -nothing at all." -"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth, blushing for -her mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that -there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the -country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be -true." -"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were but as to not -meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe -there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with -fourandtwenty families." -Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep -his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her -eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, -for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's -thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at -Longbourn since her coming away. -"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable -man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of -fashion So genteel and easy He had always something to say -to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding and those -persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open -their mouths, quite mistake the matter." -"Did Charlotte dine with you?" -"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the -mincepies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants -that can do their own work my daughters are brought up very -differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the -Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity -they are not handsome Not that I think Charlotte so very -plainbut then she is our particular friend." -"She seems a very pleasant young woman." -"Oh dear, yes but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas -herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not -like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Janeone does -not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. -I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, -there was a man at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in -love with her that my sisterinlaw was sure he would make her -an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. -Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some -verses on her, and very pretty they were." -"And so ended his affection," said Elizabeth impatiently. "There -has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I -wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving -away love" -"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said -Darcy. -"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes -what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of -inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it -entirely away." -Darcy only smiled and the general pause which ensued made -Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself -again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say -and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks -to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for -troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly -civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil -also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her -part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was -satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this -signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The -two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole -visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax -Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the -country to give a ball at Netherfield. -Lydia was a stout, wellgrown girl of fifteen, with a fine -complexion and goodhumoured countenance a favourite with her -mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early -age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural -selfconsequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom -her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended -her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, -therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and -abruptly reminded him of his promise adding, that it would be -the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His -answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear -"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement and -when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the -very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing -when she is ill." -Lydia declared herself satisfied. "Oh yesit would be much -better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely -Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have -given your ball," she added, "I shall insist on their giving one -also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he -does not." -Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth -returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' -behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy the -latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in -their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on -fine eyes. -Chapter -The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst -and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the -invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend and in the -evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawingroom. The -lootable, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and -Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his -letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to -his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. -Hurst was observing their game. -Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently -amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his -companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on -his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length -of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises -were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in -union with her opinion of each. -"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter" -He made no answer. -"You write uncommonly fast." -"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." -"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the -course of a year Letters of business, too How odious I should -think them" -"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours." -"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her." -"I have already told her so once, by your desire." -"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. -I mend pens remarkably well." -"Thank youbut I always mend my own." -"How can you contrive to write so even?" -He was silent. -"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on -the harp and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with -her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely -superior to Miss Grantley's." -"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? -At present I have not room to do them justice." -"Oh it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do -you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?" -"They are generally long but whether always charming it is not -for me to determine." -"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter -with ease, cannot write ill." -"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried -her brother, "because he does not write with ease. He studies -too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?" -"My style of writing is very different from yours." -"Oh" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless -way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the -rest." -"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express -themby which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas -at all to my correspondents." -"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, "must disarm -reproof." -"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appearance of -humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes -an indirect boast." -"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of -modesty?" -"The indirect boast for you are really proud of your defects in -writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a -rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not -estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of -doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the -possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of -the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that -if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be -gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of -compliment to yourselfand yet what is there so very laudable -in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business -undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone -else?" -"Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all -the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon -my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I -believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume -the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before -the ladies." -"I dare say you believed it but I am by no means convinced that -you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be -quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know and if, -as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, 'Bingley, -you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it, -you would probably not goand at another word, might stay a -month." -"You have only proved by this," cried Elizabeth, "that Mr. -Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have -shown him off now much more than he did himself." -"I am exceedingly gratified," said Bingley, "by your converting -what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my -temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that -gentleman did by no means intend for he would certainly think -better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat -denial, and ride off as fast as I could." -"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original -intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?" -"Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter Darcy must -speak for himself." -"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to -call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the -case, however, to stand according to your representation, you -must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to -desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has -merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in -favour of its propriety." -"To yield readilyeasilyto the persuasion of a friend is -no merit with you." -"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding -of either." -"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the -influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester -would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting -for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly -speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. -Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance -occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour -thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and -friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a -resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that -person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be -argued into it?" -"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to -arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance -which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of -intimacy subsisting between the parties?" -"By all means," cried Bingley "let us hear all the particulars, -not forgetting their comparative height and size for that will -have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be -aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall -fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so -much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object -than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places at -his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has -nothing to do." -Mr. Darcy smiled but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that -he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss -Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an -expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense. -"I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. "You dislike an -argument, and want to silence this." -"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and -Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall -be very thankful and then you may say whatever you like of me." -"What you ask," said Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side and -Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter." -Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter. -When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and -Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved -with some alacrity to the pianoforte and, after a polite request -that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely -and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself. -Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus -employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned -over some musicbooks that lay on the instrument, how frequently -Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to -suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a -man and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, -was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last -that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong -and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any -other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She -liked him too little to care for his approbation. -After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm -by a lively Scotch air and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing -near Elizabeth, said to her -"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such -an opportunity of dancing a reel?" -She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with -some surprise at her silence. -"Oh" said she, "I heard you before, but I could not immediately -determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say -'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste -but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, -and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, -therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to -dance a reel at alland now despise me if you dare." -"Indeed I do not dare." -Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at -his gallantry but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness -in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody -and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he -was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the -inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger. -Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous and her -great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received -some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth. -She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by -talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in -such an alliance. -"I hope," said she, as they were walking together in the -shrubbery the next day, "you will give your motherinlaw a few -hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage -of holding her tongue and if you can compass it, do cure the -younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so -delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, -bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady -possesses." -"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" -"Oh yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be -placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your -greatuncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you -know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you -must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those -beautiful eyes?" -"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their -colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might -be copied." -At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst -and Elizabeth herself. -"I did not know that you intended to walk," said Miss Bingley, -in some confusion, lest they had been overheard. -"You used us abominably ill," answered Mrs. Hurst, "running -away without telling us that you were coming out." -Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth -to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt -their rudeness, and immediately said -"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go -into the avenue." -But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with -them, laughingly answered -"No, no stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and -appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be -spoilt by admitting a fourth. Goodbye." -She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the -hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already -so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of -hours that evening. -Chapter -When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her -sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into -the drawingroom, where she was welcomed by her two friends -with many professions of pleasure and Elizabeth had never seen -them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed -before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation -were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with -accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their -acquaintance with spirit. -But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first -object Miss Bingley's eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy, -and she had something to say to him before he had advanced -many steps. He addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite -congratulation Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said -he was "very glad" but diffuseness and warmth remained for -Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first -halfhour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer -from the change of room and she removed at his desire to the -other side of the fireplace, that she might be further from the -door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone -else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with -great delight. -When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sisterinlaw of the -cardtablebut in vain. She had obtained private intelligence -that Mr. Darcy did not wish for cards and Mr. Hurst soon found -even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one -intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the -subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing -to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to -sleep. Darcy took up a book Miss Bingley did the same and -Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets -and rings, joined now and then in her brother's conversation -with Miss Bennet. -Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching -Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own -and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking -at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation -he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite -exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which -she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, -she gave a great yawn and said, "How pleasant it is to spend an -evening in this way I declare after all there is no enjoyment -like reading How much sooner one tires of anything than of a -book When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if -I have not an excellent library." -No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her -book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some -amusement when hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss -Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said -"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance -at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, -to consult the wishes of the present party I am much mistaken if -there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a -punishment than a pleasure." -"If you mean Darcy," cried her brother, "he may go to bed, if he -chooses, before it beginsbut as for the ball, it is quite a settled -thing and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I -shall send round my cards." -"I should like balls infinitely better," she replied, "if they -were carried on in a different manner but there is something -insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It -would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of -dancing were made the order of the day." -"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would -not be near so much like a ball." -Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up -and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she -walked well but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still -inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she -resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said -"Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, -and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very -refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude." -Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss -Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility -Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of -attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and -unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join -their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine -but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the -room together, with either of which motives his joining them -would interfere. "What could he mean? She was dying to know -what could be his meaning?"and asked Elizabeth whether she -could at all understand him? -"Not at all," was her answer "but depend upon it, he means to -be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be -to ask nothing about it." -Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. -Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an -explanation of his two motives. -"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, -as soon as she allowed him to speak. "You either choose this -method of passing the evening because you are in each other's -confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are -conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in -walking if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if -the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire." -"Oh shocking" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard anything so -abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?" -"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Elizabeth. -"We can all plague and punish one another. Tease himlaugh -at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be -done." -"But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my -intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of -manner and presence of mind No, nofeel he may defy us -there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you -please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may -hug himself." -"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at" cried Elizabeth. "That is -an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for -it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. -I dearly love a laugh." -"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me more credit than can be. -The wisest and the best of mennay, the wisest and best of their -actionsmay be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first -object in life is a joke." -"Certainly," replied Elizabeth"there are such people, but I -hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is -wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and -inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them -whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you -are without." -"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the -study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a -strong understanding to ridicule." -"Such as vanity and pride." -"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pridewhere there is a -real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good -regulation." -Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile. -"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss -Bingley "and pray what is the result?" -"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. -He owns it himself without disguise." -"No," said Darcy, "I have made no such pretension. I have -faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. -My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little -yieldingcertainly too little for the convenience of the world. -I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, -nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed -about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be -called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever." -"That is a failing indeed" cried Elizabeth. "Implacable -resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your -fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me." -"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some -particular evila natural defect, which not even the best -education can overcome." -"And your defect is to hate everybody." -"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to -misunderstand them." -"Do let us have a little music," cried Miss Bingley, tired of a -conversation in which she had no share. "Louisa, you will not -mind my waking Mr. Hurst?" -Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was -opened and Darcy, after a few moments' recollection, was not -sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too -much attention. -Chapter -In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth -wrote the next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage -might be sent for them in the course of the day. But Mrs. -Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at -Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly -finish Jane's week, could not bring herself to receive them with -pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at -least not to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get -home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly -have the carriage before Tuesday and in her postscript it was -added, that if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to stay -longer, she could spare them very well. Against staying longer, -however, Elizabeth was positively resolvednor did she much -expect it would be asked and fearful, on the contrary, as being -considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged -Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley's carriage immediately, and at -length it was settled that their original design of leaving -Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request -made. -The communication excited many professions of concern and -enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the -following day to work on Jane and till the morrow their going -was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had -proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister -much exceeded her affection for the other. -The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were -to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that -it would not be safe for herthat she was not enough recovered -but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right. -To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligenceElizabeth had been -at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he -likedand Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teasing -than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly -careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, -nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his -felicity sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, -his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in -confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely -spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and -though they were at one time left by themselves for halfanhour, -he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not -even look at her. -On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable -to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth -increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane -and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure -it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or -Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook -hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole party -in the liveliest of spirits. -They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. -Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very -wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have -caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his -expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them he had felt -their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, -when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, -and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth. -They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thoroughbass -and human nature and had some extracts to admire, and some -new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine -and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much -had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the -preceding Wednesday several of the officers had dined lately -with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually -been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married. -Chapter -"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were -at breakfast the next morning, "that you have ordered a good -dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to -our family party." -"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, -I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call inand -I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe -she often sees such at home." -"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger." -Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger It is -Mr. Bingley, I am sure Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad -to see Mr. Bingley. Butgood Lord how unlucky There is not -a bit of fish to be got today. Lydia, my love, ring the bellI -must speak to Hill this moment." -"It is not Mr. Bingley," said her husband "it is a person whom -I never saw in the whole course of my life." -This roused a general astonishment and he had the pleasure of -being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at -once. -After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus -explained -"About a month ago I received this letter and about a fortnight -ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and -requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, -when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he -pleases." -"Oh my dear," cried his wife, "I cannot bear to hear that -mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is -the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed -away from your own children and I am sure, if I had been you, I -should have tried long ago to do something or other about it." -Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. -They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject -on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she -continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an -estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man -whom nobody cared anything about. -"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet, -"and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting -Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps -be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself." -"No, that I am sure I shall not and I think it is very impertinent -of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such -false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as -his father did before him?" -"Why, indeed he does seem to have had some filial scruples on -that head, as you will hear." -"Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, -th October. -"Dear Sir, -"The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late -honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I -have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished -to heal the breach but for some time I was kept back by my own -doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory -for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always -pleased him to be at variance.'There, Mrs. Bennet.'My -mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having -received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to -be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady -Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose -bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory -of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean -myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever -ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted -by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it -my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all -families within the reach of my influence and on these -grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly -commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the -entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your -side, and not lead you to reject the offered olivebranch. -I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of -injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for -it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every -possible amendsbut of this hereafter. If you should have -no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself -the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, -November th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on -your hospitality till the Saturday se'ennight following, which I -can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from -objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that -some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.I -remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and -daughters, your wellwisher and friend, -"WILLIAM COLLINS" -"At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peacemaking -gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. "He -seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon -my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, -especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let -him come to us again." -"There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, -and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be -the person to discourage him." -"Though it is difficult," said Jane, "to guess in what way he can -mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is -certainly to his credit." -Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for -Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, -and burying his parishioners whenever it were required. -"He must be an oddity, I think," said she. "I cannot make him -out.There is something very pompous in his style.And what -can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail?We -cannot suppose he would help it if he could.Could he be a -sensible man, sir?" -"No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him -quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and -selfimportance in his letter, which promises well. I am -impatient to see him." -"In point of composition," said Mary, "the letter does not seem -defective. The idea of the olivebranch perhaps is not wholly -new, yet I think it is well expressed." -To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were -in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their -cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some -weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a -man in any other colour. As for their mother, Mr. Collins's -letter had done away much of her illwill, and she was preparing -to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her -husband and daughters. -Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with -great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said -little but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins -seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be -silent himself. He was a tall, heavylooking young man of -fiveandtwenty. His air was grave and stately, and his -manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before -he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of -daughters said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in -this instance fame had fallen short of the truth and added, -that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed -of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of -some of his hearers but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no -compliments, answered most readily. -"You are very kind, I am sure and I wish with all my heart it -may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are -settled so oddly." -"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate." -"Ah sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, -you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for -such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no -knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed." -"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, -and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of -appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young -ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will -not say more but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted" -He was interrupted by a summons to dinner and the girls smiled -on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's -admiration. The hall, the diningroom, and all its furniture, -were examined and praised and his commendation of everything -would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying -supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. -The dinner too in its turn was highly admired and he begged to -know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking -was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who -assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to -keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in -the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a -softened tone she declared herself not at all offended but he -continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour. -Chapter -During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all but when the -servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some -conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in -which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed -very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Catherine de Bourgh's -attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort, -appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen -better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject -elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a -most important aspect he protested that "he had never in his life -witnessed such behaviour in a person of ranksuch affability -and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady -Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both -of the discourses which he had already had the honour of -preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at -Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make -up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was -reckoned proud by many people he knew, but he had never -seen anything but affability in her. She had always spoken to -him as she would to any other gentleman she made not the -smallest objection to his joining in the society of the -neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a -week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended -to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose -with discretion and had once paid him a visit in his humble -parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations -he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some -herselfsome shelves in the closet upstairs." -"That is all very proper and civil, I am sure," said Mrs. Bennet, -"and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that -great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near -you, sir?" -"The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only -by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence." -"I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?" -"She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very -extensive property." -"Ah" said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, "then she is better off -than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she -handsome?" -"She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine -herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far -superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in -her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth. -She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented -her from making that progress in many accomplishments which -she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the -lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with -them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to -drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies." -"Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among -the ladies at court." -"Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being -in town and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, -has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. -Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea and you may imagine -that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little -delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. -I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her -charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the -most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would -be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which -please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I -conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay." -"You judge very properly," said Mr. Bennet, "and it is happy for -you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I -ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse -of the moment, or are the result of previous study?" -"They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though -I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such -little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, -I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible." -Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was -as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the -keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most -resolute composure of countenance, and, except in an occasional -glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his pleasure. -By teatime, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. -Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawingroom again, -and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the -ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book was produced -but, on beholding it for everything announced it to be from a -circulating library, he started back, and begging pardon, -protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at him, and -Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some -deliberation he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Lydia gaped as he -opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous -solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with -"Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning -away Richard and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My -aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton -tomorrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny -comes back from town." -Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue but -Mr. Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said -"I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by -books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. -It amazes me, I confess for, certainly, there can be nothing so -advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer -importune my young cousin." -Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist -at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing -that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling -amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most -civilly for Lydia's interruption, and promised that it should not -occur again, if he would resume his book but Mr. Collins, after -assuring them that he bore his young cousin no illwill, and -should never resent her behaviour as any affront, seated himself -at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon. -Chapter -Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature -had been but little assisted by education or society the greatest -part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an -illiterate and miserly father and though he belonged to one of -the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without -forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which -his father had brought him up had given him originally great -humility of manner but it was now a good deal counteracted by -the selfconceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the -consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A -fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de -Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant and the respect -which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his -patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his -authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him -altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, -selfimportance and humility. -Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he -intended to marry and in seeking a reconciliation with the -Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose -one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable -as they were represented by common report. This was his plan -of amendsof atonementfor inheriting their father's estate -and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and -suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his -own part. -His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet's lovely face -confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of -what was due to seniority and for the first evening she was his -settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration -for in a quarter of an hour's teteatete with Mrs. Bennet before -breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonagehouse, -and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress -might be found for it at Longbourn, produced from her, amid -very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution -against the very Jane he had fixed on. "As to her younger -daughters, she could not take upon her to sayshe could not -positively answerbut she did not know of any prepossession -her eldest daughter, she must just mentionshe felt it -incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged." -Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabethand it -was soon donedone while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. -Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded -her of course. -Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might -soon have two daughters married and the man whom she could -not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good -graces. -Lydia's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten -every sister except Mary agreed to go with her and Mr. Collins -was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most -anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself for -thither Mr. Collins had followed him after breakfast and there he -would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios -in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little -cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings -discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been -always sure of leisure and tranquillity and though prepared, as -he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other -room of the house, he was used to be free from them there his -civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to -join his daughters in their walk and Mr. Collins, being in fact -much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely -pleased to close his large book, and go. -In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of -his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The -attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by -him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in -quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet -indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall -them. -But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, -whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike -appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the -way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny concerning whose -return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he bowed as -they passed. All were struck with the stranger's air, all -wondered who he could be and Kitty and Lydia, determined if -possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense -of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had -just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, -had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, -and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, -who had returned with him the day before from town, and he -was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. -This was exactly as it should be for the young man wanted only -regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance -was greatly in his favour he had all the best part of beauty, a -fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The -introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of -conversationa readiness at the same time perfectly correct and -unassuming and the whole party were still standing and talking -together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their -notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. -On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen -came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. -Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the -principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn -on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with -a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on -Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the -stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of -both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the -effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, -the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his -hata salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return. What -could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine it was -impossible not to long to know. -In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have -noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend. -Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to -the door of Mr. Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in -spite of Miss Lydia's pressing entreaties that they should come -in, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillips's throwing up the parlour -window and loudly seconding the invitation. -Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces and the two -eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and -she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return -home, which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, she -should have known nothing about, if she had not happened to -see Mr. Jones's shopboy in the street, who had told her that -they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because -the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was -claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane's introduction of him. She -received him with her very best politeness, which he returned -with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any -previous acquaintance with her, which he could not help -flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship -to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. -Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding but -her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by -exclamations and inquiries about the other of whom, however, -she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. -Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a -lieutenant's commission in the shire. She had been watching -him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, -and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly -have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed -windows now except a few of the officers, who, in comparison -with the stranger, were become "stupid, disagreeable fellows." -Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and -their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, -and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn -would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. -Phillips protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy -game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. -The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted -in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies in -quitting the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that -they were perfectly needless. -As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had -seen pass between the two gentlemen but though Jane would -have defended either or both, had they appeared to be in the -wrong, she could no more explain such behaviour than her sister. -Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by -admiring Mrs. Phillips's manners and politeness. He protested -that, except Lady Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen -a more elegant woman for she had not only received him with -the utmost civility, but even pointedly included him in her -invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her -before. Something, he supposed, might be attributed to his -connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much -attention in the whole course of his life. -Chapter -As no objection was made to the young people's engagement -with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins's scruples of leaving Mr. -and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most -steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins -at a suitable hour to Meryton and the girls had the pleasure of -hearing, as they entered the drawingroom, that Mr. Wickham -had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house. -When this information was given, and they had all taken their -seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, -and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the -apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed -himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings a -comparison that did not at first convey much gratification but -when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and -who was its proprietorwhen she had listened to the description -of only one of Lady Catherine's drawingrooms, and found that -the chimneypiece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt -all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented -a comparison with the housekeeper's room. -In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her -mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble -abode, and the improvements it was receiving, he was happily -employed until the gentlemen joined them and he found in -Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener, whose opinion of -his consequence increased with what she heard, and who was -resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as she -could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, -and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and -examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the -mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was -over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and when -Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had -neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with -the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of -the shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike -set, and the best of them were of the present party but Mr. -Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, -and walk, as they were superior to the broadfaced, stuffy -uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them into -the room. -Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every -female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by -whom he finally seated himself and the agreeable manner in -which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only -on its being a wet night, made her feel that the commonest, -dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by -the skill of the speaker. -With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and -the officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance to -the young ladies he certainly was nothing but he had still at -intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her -watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin. -When the cardtables were placed, he had the opportunity of -obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist. -"I know little of the game at present," said he, "but I shall be -glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life" Mrs. Phillips -was very glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his -reason. -Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he -received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first -there seemed danger of Lydia's engrossing him entirely, for she -was a most determined talker but being likewise extremely fond -of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the -game, too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes to -have attention for anyone in particular. Allowing for the -common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure -to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, -though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be -toldthe history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared -not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was -unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. -He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton and, after -receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long -Mr. Darcy had been staying there. -"About a month," said Elizabeth and then, unwilling to let the -subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in -Derbyshire, I understand." -"Yes," replied Mr. Wickham "his estate there is a noble one. -A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a -person more capable of giving you certain information on that -head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in -a particular manner from my infancy." -Elizabeth could not but look surprised. -"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, -after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our -meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?" -"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Elizabeth very warmly. -"I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think -him very disagreeable." -"I have no right to give my opinion," said Wickham, "as to his -being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I -have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is -impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion -of him would in general astonishand perhaps you would not -express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your -own family." -"Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any -house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all -liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. -You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone." -"I cannot pretend to be sorry," said Wickham, after a short -interruption, "that he or that any man should not be estimated -beyond their deserts but with him I believe it does not often -happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, -or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him -only as he chooses to be seen." -"I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an -illtempered man." Wickham only shook his head. -"I wonder," said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, -"whether he is likely to be in this country much longer." -"I do not at all know but I heard nothing of his going away -when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the -shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood." -"Oh noit is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If -he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on -friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I -have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim -before all the world, a sense of very great illusage, and most -painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, -the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, -and the truest friend I ever had and I can never be in company -with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a -thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been -scandalous but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and -everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and -disgracing the memory of his father." -Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened -with all her heart but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry. -Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, -the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all -that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but -very intelligible gallantry. -"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he -added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the shire. -I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my -friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their -present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent -acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is -necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits -will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. -A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances -have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been -my professionI was brought up for the church, and I should at -this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had -it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now." -"Indeed" -"Yesthe late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation -of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and -excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. -He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it -but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere." -"Good heavens" cried Elizabeth "but how could that be? -How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal -redress?" -"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest -as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have -doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt itor to -treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that -I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudencein -short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became -vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and -that it was given to another man and no less certain is it, that -I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve -to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have -spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall -nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort -of men, and that he hates me." -"This is quite shocking He deserves to be publicly disgraced." -"Some time or other he will bebut it shall not be by me. -Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him." -Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him -handsomer than ever as he expressed them. -"But what," said she, after a pause, "can have been his motive? -What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?" -"A thorough, determined dislike of mea dislike which I cannot -but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. -Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better -but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I -believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of -competition in which we stoodthe sort of preference which -was often given me." -"I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as thisthough I have -never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had -supposed him to be despising his fellowcreatures in general, but -did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, -such injustice, such inhumanity as this." -After a few minutes' reflection, however, she continued, -"I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the -implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving -temper. His disposition must be dreadful." -"I will not trust myself on the subject," replied Wickham "I -can hardly be just to him." -Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, -"To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite -of his father" She could have added, "A young man, too, -like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being -amiable"but she contented herself with, "and one, too, who -had probably been his companion from childhood, connected -together, as I think you said, in the closest manner" -"We were born in the same parish, within the same park the -greatest part of our youth was passed together inmates of the -same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same -parental care. My father began life in the profession which -your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to do so much credit tobut -he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy and -devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. -He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, -confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself -to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active -superintendence, and when, immediately before my father's -death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for -me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of -gratitude to him, as of his affection to myself." -"How strange" cried Elizabeth. "How abominable I wonder -that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to -you If from no better motive, that he should not have been too -proud to be dishonestfor dishonesty I must call it." -"It is wonderful," replied Wickham, "for almost all his actions -may be traced to pride and pride had often been his best friend. -It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other -feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour -to me there were stronger impulses even than pride." -"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?" -"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his -money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and -relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pridefor he is very -proud of what his father washave done this. Not to appear to -disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or -lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. -He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly -affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his -sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most -attentive and best of brothers." -"What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?" -He shook his head. "I wish I could call her amiable. It gives -me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her -brothervery, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate -and pleasing, and extremely fond of me and I have devoted hours -and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. -She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I -understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, -her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and -superintends her education." -After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth -could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying -"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley How can Mr. -Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, -truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they -suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?" -"Not at all." -"He is a sweettempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot -know what Mr. Darcy is." -"Probably not but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He -does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he -thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals -in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the -less prosperous. His pride never deserts him but with the rich -he is liberalminded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and -perhaps agreeableallowing something for fortune and figure." -The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players -gathered round the other table and Mr. Collins took his station -between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The usual -inquiries as to his success was made by the latter. It had not -been very great he had lost every point but when Mrs. Phillips -began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with -much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that -he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged that she -would not make herself uneasy. -"I know very well, madam," said he, "that when persons sit down -to a cardtable, they must take their chances of these things, and -happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings -any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the -same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed -far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters." -Mr. Wickham's attention was caught and after observing Mr. -Collins for a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice -whether her relation was very intimately acquainted with the -family of de Bourgh. -"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she replied, "has very lately given -him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first -introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her -long." -"You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady -Anne Darcy were sisters consequently that she is aunt to the -present Mr. Darcy." -"No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine's -connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before -yesterday." -"Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, -and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two -estates." -This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor -Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and -useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, -if he were already selfdestined for another. -"Mr. Collins," said she, "speaks highly both of Lady Catherine -and her daughter but from some particulars that he has related -of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in -spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited -woman." -"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Wickham -"I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that -I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and -insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible -and clever but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities -from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, -and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who chooses that -everyone connected with him should have an understanding of -the first class." -Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, -and they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction -till supper put an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies -their share of Mr. Wickham's attentions. There could be no -conversation in the noise of Mrs. Phillips's supper party, but -his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, -was said well and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth -went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing -but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way -home but there was not time for her even to mention his name -as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. -Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had -lost and the fish she had won and Mr. Collins in describing the -civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in -the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes -at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, -had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage -stopped at Longbourn House. -Chapter -Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between -Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and -concern she knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be -so unworthy of Mr. Bingley's regard and yet, it was not in her -nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable -appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having endured -such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings -and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of -them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the -account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise -explained. -"They have both," said she, "been deceived, I dare say, in some -way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people -have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, -impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances -which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either -side." -"Very true, indeed and now, my dear Jane, what have you got -to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been -concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be -obliged to think ill of somebody." -"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of -my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a -disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's -favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to -provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no -man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. -Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? -Oh no." -"I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on, -than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself -as he gave me last night names, facts, everything mentioned -without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. -Besides, there was truth in his looks." -"It is difficult indeedit is distressing. One does not know what -to think." -"I beg your pardon one knows exactly what to think." -But Jane could think with certainty on only one pointthat Mr. -Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer -when the affair became public. -The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, -where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very -persons of whom they had been speaking Mr. Bingley and his -sisters came to give their personal invitation for the -longexpected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the -following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their -dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and -repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since -their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little -attention avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not -much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were -soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which -took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to -escape from Mrs. Bennet's civilities. -The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to -every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as -given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly -flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, -instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy -evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of -her brother and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a -great deal with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of -everything in Mr. Darcy's look and behavior. The happiness -anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less on any single -event, or any particular person, for though they each, like -Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham, -he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and -a ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her -family that she had no disinclination for it. -"While I can have my mornings to myself," said she, "it is -enoughI think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening -engagements. Society has claims on us all and I profess myself -one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement -as desirable for everybody." -Elizabeth's spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she -did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not -help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's -invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join -in the evening's amusement and she was rather surprised to find -that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was -very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or -Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance. -"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said he, "that -a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to -respectable people, can have any evil tendency and I am so -far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be -honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of -the evening and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss -Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which -I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not -to any disrespect for her." -Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully -proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very dances -and to have Mr. Collins instead her liveliness had never been -worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. Wickham's -happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer, -and Mr. Collins's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she -could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from -the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck -her, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of -being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form -a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible -visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed -his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his -frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity and -though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect -of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to -understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely -agreeable to her. Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take -the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the -consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the -offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him. -If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk -of, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable -state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day -of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their -walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could -be sought afterthe very shoeroses for Netherfield were got -by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have found some trial of her -patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of -her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham and nothing less than a -dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, -Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia. -Chapter -Till Elizabeth entered the drawingroom at Netherfield, and -looked in vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats -there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred -to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by -any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have -alarmed her. She had dressed with more than usual care, and -prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that -remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more -than might be won in the course of the evening. But in an -instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely -omitted for Mr. Darcy's pleasure in the Bingleys' invitation -to the officers and though this was not exactly the case, the -absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Denny, -to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and who told them that Wickham -had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and -was not yet returned adding, with a significant smile, "I do not -imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he -had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here." -This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was -caught by Elizabeth, and, as it assured her that Darcy was not -less answerable for Wickham's absence than if her first surmise -had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former -was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could -hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries -which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, -forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She -was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and -turned away with a degree of illhumour which she could not -wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind -partiality provoked her. -But Elizabeth was not formed for illhumour and though every -prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not -dwell long on her spirits and having told all her griefs to -Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for a week, she was -soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her -cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first -two dances, however, brought a return of distress they were -dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, -apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong -without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery -which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. -The moment of her release from him was ecstasy. -She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of -talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. -When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, -and was in conversation with her, when she found herself -suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise -in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she -did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and -she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind -Charlotte tried to console her -"I dare say you will find him very agreeable." -"Heaven forbid That would be the greatest misfortune of all -To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate Do not -wish me such an evil." -When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to -claim her hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a -whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham -to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his -consequence. Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in -the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being -allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and reading in her -neighbours' looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They -stood for some time without speaking a word and she began to -imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, -and at first was resolved not to break it till suddenly -fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner -to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the -dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of -some minutes, she addressed him a second time with"It is -your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about -the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the -size of the room, or the number of couples." -He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say -should be said. -"Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and -by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than -public ones. But now we may be silent." -"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?" -"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look -odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together and yet for -the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as -that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible." -"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do -you imagine that you are gratifying mine?" -"Both," replied Elizabeth archly "for I have always seen a great -similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, -taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say -something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down -to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb." -"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, -I am sure," said he. "How near it may be to mine, I cannot -pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly." -"I must not decide on my own performance." -He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone -down the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not -very often walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative, -and, unable to resist the temptation, added, "When you met us -there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance." -The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread -his features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though -blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At -length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said, "Mr. -Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his -making friendswhether he may be equally capable of retaining -them, is less certain." -"He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship," replied -Elizabeth with emphasis, "and in a manner which he is likely to -suffer from all his life." -Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the -subject. At that moment, Sir William Lucas appeared close to -them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the -room but on perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped with a bow of -superior courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his -partner. -"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such -very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you -belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your -fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have -this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable -event, my dear Eliza glancing at her sister and Bingley shall -take place. What congratulations will then flow in I appeal to -Mr. Darcybut let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not -thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that -young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me." -The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy -but Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him -forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious -expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were dancing together. -Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to his partner, -and said, "Sir William's interruption has made me forget what -we were talking of." -"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not -have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for -themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without -success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine." -"What think you of books?" said he, smiling. -"Booksoh no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with -the same feelings." -"I am sorry you think so but if that be the case, there can at -least be no want of subject. We may compare our different -opinions." -"NoI cannot talk of books in a ballroom my head is always -full of something else." -"The present always occupies you in such scenesdoes it?" -said he, with a look of doubt. -"Yes, always," she replied, without knowing what she said, -for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon -afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, "I remember -hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, -that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are -very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created." -"I am," said he, with a firm voice. -"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?" -"I hope not." -"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their -opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first." -"May I ask to what these questions tend?" -"Merely to the illustration of your character," said she, -endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make -it out." -"And what is your success?" -She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such -different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly." -"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, "that reports may -vary greatly with respect to me and I could wish, Miss Bennet, -that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, -as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no -credit on either." -"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have -another opportunity." -"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he coldly -replied. She said no more, and they went down the other dance -and parted in silence and on each side dissatisfied, though not -to an equal degree, for in Darcy's breast there was a tolerable -powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, -and directed all his anger against another. -They had not long separated, when Miss Bingley came towards -her, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted her -"So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George -Wickham Your sister has been talking to me about him, and -asking me a thousand questions and I find that the young man -quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that -he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy's steward. -Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit -confidence to all his assertions for as to Mr. Darcy's using -him ill, it is perfectly false for, on the contrary, he has -always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has -treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the -particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the -least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham -mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not -well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he -was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the -way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, -indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, -Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite's guilt but -really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better." -"His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the -same," said Elizabeth angrily "for I have heard you accuse him -of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, -and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself." -"I beg your pardon," replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a -sneer. "Excuse my interferenceit was kindly meant." -"Insolent girl" said Elizabeth to herself. "You are much -mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack -as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and -the malice of Mr. Darcy." She then sought her eldest sister, who -has undertaken to make inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. -Jane met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of -such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was -satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Elizabeth instantly -read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude for Wickham, -resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way -before the hope of Jane's being in the fairest way for happiness. -"I want to know," said she, with a countenance no less smiling -than her sister's, "what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. -But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of -any third person in which case you may be sure of my pardon." -"No," replied Jane, "I have not forgotten him but I have nothing -satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of -his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have -principally offended Mr. Darcy but he will vouch for the good -conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly -convinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention -from Mr. Darcy than he has received and I am sorry to say by -his account as well as his sister's, Mr. Wickham is by no means a -respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, -and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy's regard." -"Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?" -"No he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton." -"This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. -I am satisfied. But what does he say of the living?" -"He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has -heard them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that -it was left to him conditionally only." -"I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley's sincerity," said Elizabeth -warmly "but you must excuse my not being convinced by -assurances only. Mr. Bingley's defense of his friend was a very -able one, I dare say but since he is unacquainted with several -parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend -himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I -did before." -She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, -and on which there could be no difference of sentiment. -Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, though modest -hopes which Jane entertained of Mr. Bingley's regard, and said -all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being -joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss -Lucas to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner -she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them, -and told her with great exultation that he had just been so -fortunate as to make a most important discovery. -"I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that there -is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened -to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who -does the honours of the house the names of his cousin Miss de -Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these -sort of things occur Who would have thought of my meeting with, -perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh in this assembly -I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to -pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust -he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance -of the connection must plead my apology." -"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy" -"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it -earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine's nephew. It will -be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well -yesterday se'nnight." -Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, -assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him -without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a -compliment to his aunt that it was not in the least necessary -there should be any notice on either side and that if it were, -it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to -begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with the -determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she -ceased speaking, replied thus -"My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world -in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of -your understanding but permit me to say, that there must be a -wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst -the laity, and those which regulate the clergy for, give me -leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in -point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdomprovided -that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time -maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates -of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what -I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit -by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant -guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted -by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than -a young lady like yourself." And with a low bow he left her to -attack Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly -watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very -evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and -though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing -it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words "apology," -"Hunsford," and "Lady Catherine de Bourgh." It vexed her to -see him expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him -with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed -him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. -Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and -Mr. Darcy's contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length -of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a -slight bow, and moved another way. Mr. Collins then returned -to Elizabeth. -"I have no reason, I assure you," said he, "to be dissatisfied -with my reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the -attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even -paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced -of Lady Catherine's discernment as to be certain she could never -bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome -thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him." -As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, -she turned her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. -Bingley and the train of agreeable reflections which her -observations gave birth to, made her perhaps almost as happy as -Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that very house, in all the -felicity which a marriage of true affection could bestow and she -felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring even to -like Bingley's two sisters. Her mother's thoughts she plainly -saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to venture -near her, lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to -supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness -which placed them within one of each other and deeply was she -vexed to find that her mother was talking to that one person -Lady Lucas freely, openly, and of nothing else but her -expectation that Jane would soon be married to Mr. Bingley. It -was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of -fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His -being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but -three miles from them, were the first points of selfgratulation -and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters -were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the -connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a -promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so -greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men and lastly, -it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her -single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might not -be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was -necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, -because on such occasions it is the etiquette but no one was less -likely than Mrs. Bennet to find comfort in staying home at any -period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that -Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently -and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it. -In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her -mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a -less audible whisper for, to her inexpressible vexation, she -could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, -who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for -being nonsensical. -"What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? -I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged -to say nothing he may not like to hear." -"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can -it be for you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend -yourself to his friend by so doing" -Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her -mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. -Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. -She could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, -though every glance convinced her of what she dreaded for -though he was not always looking at her mother, she was -convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. -The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant -contempt to a composed and steady gravity. -At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say and Lady -Lucas, who had been long yawning at the repetition of delights -which she saw no likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts -of cold ham and chicken. Elizabeth now began to revive. But -not long was the interval of tranquillity for, when supper was -over, singing was talked of, and she had the mortification of -seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the -company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did -she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in -vain Mary would not understand them such an opportunity of -exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. -Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations, -and she watched her progress through the several stanzas with -an impatience which was very ill rewarded at their close for -Mary, on receiving, amongst the thanks of the table, the hint of -a hope that she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after -the pause of half a minute began another. Mary's powers were -by no means fitted for such a display her voice was weak, and -her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. She looked at -Jane, to see how she bore it but Jane was very composedly -talking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw -them making signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who -continued, however, imperturbably grave. She looked at her -father to entreat his interference, lest Mary should be singing all -night. He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second -song, said aloud, "That will do extremely well, child. You have -delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time -to exhibit." -Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted -and Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father's speech, -was afraid her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party -were now applied to. -"If I," said Mr. Collins, "were so fortunate as to be able to sing, -I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company -with an air for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, -and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do -not mean, however, to assert that we can be justified in devoting -too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things -to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the -first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be -beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must -write his own sermons and the time that remains will not be too -much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his -dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable -as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he -should have attentive and conciliatory manner towards everybody, -especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I -cannot acquit him of that duty nor could I think well of the -man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect -towards anybody connected with the family." And with a bow to -Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so -loud as to be heard by half the room. Many staredmany smiled -but no one looked more amused than Mr. Bennet himself, while -his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so -sensibly, and observed in a halfwhisper to Lady Lucas, that he -was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man. -To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement -to expose themselves as much as they could during the -evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their -parts with more spirit or finer success and happy did she think -it for Bingley and her sister that some of the exhibition had -escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to -be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed. -That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should have such -an opportunity of ridiculing her relations, was bad enough, and -she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the -gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more -intolerable. -The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was -teased by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her -side, and though he could not prevail on her to dance with him -again, put it out of her power to dance with others. In vain -did she entreat him to stand up with somebody else, and offer to -introduce him to any young lady in the room. He assured her, -that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it that his -chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to -her and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close -to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a -project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, -who often joined them, and goodnaturedly engaged Mr. Collins's -conversation to herself. -She was at least free from the offense of Mr. Darcy's further -notice though often standing within a very short distance of her, -quite disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt -it to be the probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, -and rejoiced in it. -The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, -and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their -carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, -which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished -away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her sister scarcely -opened their mouths, except to complain of fatigue, and were -evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They -repulsed every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by -so doing threw a languor over the whole party, which was very -little relieved by the long speeches of Mr. Collins, who was -complimenting Mr. Bingley and his sisters on the elegance of -their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness which had -marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said nothing at all. -Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. Mr. -Bingley and Jane were standing together, a little detached from -the rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as -steady a silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley and even -Lydia was too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional -exclamation of "Lord, how tired I am" accompanied by a -violent yawn. -When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most -pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon -at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Mr. Bingley, -to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family -dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal -invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily -engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, -after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the -next day for a short time. -Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under -the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary -preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, -she should undoubtedly see her daughter settled at Netherfield in -the course of three or four months. Of having another daughter -married to Mr. Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and -with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Elizabeth was the -least dear to her of all her children and though the man and the -match were quite good enough for her, the worth of each was -eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield. -Chapter -The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins -made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without -loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the -following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make -it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it -in a very orderly manner, with all the observances, which -he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs. -Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together, soon -after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words -"May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter -Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience -with her in the course of this morning?" -Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, -Mrs. Bennet answered instantly, "Oh dearyescertainly. I -am sure Lizzy will be very happyI am sure she can have no -objection. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs." And, gathering -her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth -called out -"Dear madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins -must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody -need not hear. I am going away myself." -"No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you to stay where you are." -And upon Elizabeth's seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed -looks, about to escape, she added "Lizzy, I insist upon your -staying and hearing Mr. Collins." -Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunctionand a moment's -consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to -get it over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again -and tried to conceal, by incessant employment the feelings which -were divided between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty -walked off, and as soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began. -"Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far -from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other -perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had -there not been this little unwillingness but allow me to assure -you, that I have your respected mother's permission for this -address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, -however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble my -attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon -as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of -my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on -this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my -reasons for marryingand, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire -with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did." -The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being -run away with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing, -that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt -to stop him further, and he continued -"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right -thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances like myself to -set the example of matrimony in his parish secondly, that I am -convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness and -thirdlywhich perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that -it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble -lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has -she condescended to give me her opinion unasked too on this -subject and it was but the very Saturday night before I left -Hunsfordbetween our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson -was arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool, that she said, 'Mr. -Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. -Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake and for -your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought -up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is -my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to -Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to -observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and -kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the -advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners -beyond anything I can describe and your wit and vivacity, I -think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with -the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. -Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony -it remains to be told why my views were directed towards -Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can -assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact -is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of -your honoured father who, however, may live many years -longer, I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a -wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as -little as possible, when the melancholy event takes placewhich, -however, as I have already said, may not be for several years. -This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it -will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains -for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the -violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, -and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I -am well aware that it could not be complied with and that one -thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours -till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be -entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent -and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall -ever pass my lips when we are married." -It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. -"You are too hasty, sir," she cried. "You forget that I have -made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. -Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am -very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is -impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them." -"I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave -of the hand, "that it is usual with young ladies to reject the -addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when -he first applies for their favour and that sometimes the refusal -is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no -means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to -lead you to the altar ere long." -"Upon my word, sir," cried Elizabeth, "your hope is a rather -extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I -am not one of those young ladies if such young ladies there are -who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of -being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. -You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am -the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were -your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she -would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation." -"Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so," said Mr. -Collins very gravely"but I cannot imagine that her ladyship -would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I -have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very -highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable -qualification." -"Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. -You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the -compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and -very rich, and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to -prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must -have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my -family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever -it falls, without any selfreproach. This matter may be -considered, therefore, as finally settled." And rising as she -thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins -not thus addressed her -"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the -subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than -you have now given me though I am far from accusing you of -cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established -custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and -perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit -as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female -character." -"Really, Mr. Collins," cried Elizabeth with some warmth, "you -puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear -to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express -my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one." -"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that -your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My -reasons for believing it are briefly these It does not appear -to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the -establishment I can offer would be any other than highly -desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family -of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances -highly in my favour and you should take it into further -consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is -by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be -made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in -all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable -qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not -serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it -to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the -usual practice of elegant females." -"I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that -kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. -I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. -I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in -your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My -feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not -consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, -but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart." -"You are uniformly charming" cried he, with an air of awkward -gallantry "and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the -express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals -will not fail of being acceptable." -To such perseverance in wilful selfdeception Elizabeth would -make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew -determined, if he persisted in considering her repeated -refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to her father, -whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as to be -decisive, and whose behavior at least could not be mistaken -for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female. -Chapter -Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his -successful love for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the -vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw -Elizabeth open the door and with quick step pass her towards -the staircase, than she entered the breakfastroom, and -congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy -prospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and -returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then -proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the -result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, -since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him -would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine -delicacy of her character. -This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet she would -have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had -meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, -but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so. -"But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins," she added, "that Lizzy shall -be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly. -She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her -own interest but I will make her know it." -"Pardon me for interrupting you, madam," cried Mr. Collins -"but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether -she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my -situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage -state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit, -perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me, -because if liable to such defects of temper, she could not -contribute much to my felicity." -"Sir, you quite misunderstand me," said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. -"Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything -else she is as goodnatured a girl as ever lived. I will go -directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, -I am sure." -She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to -her husband, called out as she entered the library, "Oh Mr. -Bennet, you are wanted immediately we are all in an uproar. -You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows -she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will -change his mind and not have her." -Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and -fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in -the least altered by her communication. -"I have not the pleasure of understanding you," said he, when -she had finished her speech. "Of what are you talking?" -"Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have -Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not -have Lizzy." -"And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless -business." -"Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon -her marrying him." -"Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion." -Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to -the library. -"Come here, child," cried her father as she appeared. "I have -sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. -Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Elizabeth -replied that it was. "Very welland this offer of marriage you -have refused?" -"I have, sir." -"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists -upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?" -"Yes, or I will never see her again." -"An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day -you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will -never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will -never see you again if you do." -Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a -beginning, but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her -husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively -disappointed. -"What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? You -promised me to insist upon her marrying him." -"My dear," replied her husband, "I have two small favours to -request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my -understanding on the present occasion and secondly, of my -room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as -may be." -Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, -did Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again -and again coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured -to secure Jane in her interest but Jane, with all possible -mildness, declined interfering and Elizabeth, sometimes with -real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to -her attacks. Though her manner varied, however, her determination -never did. -Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had -passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what -motives his cousin could refuse him and though his pride was -hurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for her was quite -imaginary and the possibility of her deserving her mother's -reproach prevented his feeling any regret. -While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to -spend the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, -who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, "I am glad you are -come, for there is such fun here What do you think has -happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy, -and she will not have him." -Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by -Kitty, who came to tell the same news and no sooner had they -entered the breakfastroom, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than -she likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her -compassion, and entreating her to persuade her friend Lizzy to -comply with the wishes of all her family. "Pray do, my dear -Miss Lucas," she added in a melancholy tone, "for nobody is on -my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used, nobody -feels for my poor nerves." -Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and -Elizabeth. -"Aye, there she comes," continued Mrs. Bennet, "looking as -unconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if we -were at York, provided she can have her own way. But I tell -you, Miss Lizzyif you take it into your head to go on refusing -every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband -at alland I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you -when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep youand -so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told -you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you -again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no -pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much -pleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as -I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for -talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer But it is always so. -Those who do not complain are never pitied." -Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible -that any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only -increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without -interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr. -Collins, who entered the room with an air more stately than -usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls, "Now, I do -insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and -let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation together." -Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty -followed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she -could and Charlotte, detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, -whose inquiries after herself and all her family were very minute, -and then by a little curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to -the window and pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. -Bennet began the projected conversation "Oh Mr. Collins" -"My dear madam," replied he, "let us be for ever silent on this -point. Far be it from me," he presently continued, in a voice that -marked his displeasure, "to resent the behaviour of your daughter. -Resignation to inevitable evils is the evil duty of us all the -peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I -have been in early preferment and I trust I am resigned. -Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive -happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand for I -have often observed that resignation is never so perfect as when -the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our -estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any -disrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing -my pretensions to your daughter's favour, without having paid -yourself and Mr. Bennet the compliment of requesting you to -interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear, -be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from your -daughter's lips instead of your own. But we are all liable to -error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My -object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with -due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if -my manner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to -apologise." -Chapter -The discussion of Mr. Collins's offer was now nearly at an end, -and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings -necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some peevish -allusions of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his -feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or -dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of manner -and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the -assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of himself -were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose -civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, -and especially to her friend. -The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet's illhumour -or ill health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry -pride. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment might shorten his -visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it. -He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant -to stay. -After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. -Wickham were returned, and to lament over his absence from -the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their entering the town, -and attended them to their aunt's where his regret and vexation, -and the concern of everybody, was well talked over. To -Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged that the -necessity of his absence had been selfimposed. -"I found," said he, "as the time drew near that I had better not -meet Mr. Darcy that to be in the same room, the same party -with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could -bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than -myself." -She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a -full discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they -civilly bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer -walked back with them to Longbourn, and during the walk he -particularly attended to her. His accompanying them was a -double advantage she felt all the compliment it offered to -herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing -him to her father and mother. -Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet -it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of -elegant, little, hotpressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, -flowing hand and Elizabeth saw her sister's countenance change -as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular -passages. Jane recollected herself soon, and putting the letter -away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general -conversation but Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which -drew off her attention even from Wickham and no sooner had -he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane -invited her to follow her upstairs. When they had gained their -own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said -"This is from Caroline Bingley what it contains has surprised me -a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, -and are on their way to townand without any intention of coming -back again. You shall hear what she says." -She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the -information of their having just resolved to follow their brother -to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor -Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was in these -words "I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in -Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend but we -will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that -delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may -lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most -unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that." To -these highflown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the -insensibility of distrust and though the suddenness of their -removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament -it was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield -would prevent Mr. Bingley's being there and as to the loss of -their society, she was persuaded that Jane must cease to regard -it, in the enjoyment of his. -"It is unlucky," said she, after a short pause, "that you should -not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. -But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to -which Miss Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier than she is -aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as -friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as sisters? -Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them." -"Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into -Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you" -"When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the -business which took him to London might be concluded in three -or four days but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the -same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be -in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following -him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours -in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already -there for the winter I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest -friend, had any intention of making one of the crowdbut of -that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire -may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, -and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your -feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you." -"It is evident by this," added Jane, "that he comes back no more -this winter." -"It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he -should." -"Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his -own master. But you do not know all. I will read you the -passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves -from you." -"Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister and, to confess the -truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do -not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, -and accomplishments and the affection she inspires in Louisa -and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, -from the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our -sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you -my feelings on this subject but I will not leave the country -without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them -unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already he will -have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most -intimate footing her relations all wish the connection as much as -his own and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, -when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's -heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and -nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging -the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?" -"What do you think of this sentence, my dear Lizzy?" said -Jane as she finished it. "Is it not clear enough? Does it not -expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to -be her sister that she is perfectly convinced of her brother's -indifference and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings -for him, she means most kindly to put me on my guard? Can -there be any other opinion on the subject?" -"Yes, there can for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?" -"Most willingly." -"You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her -brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. -She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries -to persuade you that he does not care about you." -Jane shook her head. -"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever -seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am -sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen -half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have -ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this We are not -rich enough or grand enough for them and she is the more -anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that -when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less -trouble in achieving a second in which there is certainly some -ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed, if Miss de Bourgh -were out of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously -imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly -admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible -of your merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or -that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead of -being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend." -"If we thought alike of Miss Bingley," replied Jane, "your -representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know -the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully -deceiving anyone and all that I can hope in this case is that -she is deceiving herself." -"That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, -since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be -deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by her, -and must fret no longer." -"But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in -accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to -marry elsewhere?" -"You must decide for yourself," said Elizabeth "and if, upon -mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his -two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his -wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him." -"How can you talk so?" said Jane, faintly smiling. "You must -know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their -disapprobation, I could not hesitate." -"I did not think you would and that being the case, I cannot -consider your situation with much compassion." -"But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be -required. A thousand things may arise in six months" -The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the -utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of -Caroline's interested wishes, and she could not for a moment -suppose that those wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, -could influence a young man so totally independent of everyone. -She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she -felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its -happy effect. Jane's temper was not desponding, and she was -gradually led to hope, though the diffidence of affection -sometimes overcame the hope, that Bingley would return to -Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart. -They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure -of the family, without being alarmed on the score of the -gentleman's conduct but even this partial communication gave -her a great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as exceedingly -unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away just as they -were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it, -however, at some length, she had the consolation that Mr. -Bingley would be soon down again and soon dining at Longbourn, -and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, -that though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she -would take care to have two full courses. -Chapter -The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases and again -during the chief of the day was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen -to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth took an opportunity of thanking her. -"It keeps him in good humour," said she, "and I am more obliged -to you than I can express." Charlotte assured her friend of -her satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid her -for the little sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable, -but Charlotte's kindness extended farther than Elizabeth had -any conception of its object was nothing else than to secure -her from any return of Mr. Collins's addresses, by engaging -them towards herself. Such was Miss Lucas's scheme and -appearances were so favourable, that when they parted at night, -she would have felt almost secure of success if he had not been -to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did injustice -to the fire and independence of his character, for it led -him to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with -admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself -at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, -from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not -fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have -the attempt known till its success might be known likewise for -though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had -been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident since -the adventure of Wednesday. His reception, however, was of -the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas perceived him from an -upper window as he walked towards the house, and instantly set -out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she -dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there. -In as short a time as Mr. Collins's long speeches would allow, -everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both -and as they entered the house he earnestly entreated her to name -the day that was to make him the happiest of men and though -such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the lady felt -no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with -which he was favoured by nature must guard his courtship from -any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance -and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and -disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon -that establishment were gained. -Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their -consent and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. -Collins's present circumstances made it a most eligible match for -their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune and his -prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair. Lady Lucas -began directly to calculate, with more interest than the -matter had ever excited before, how many years longer Mr. -Bennet was likely to live and Sir William gave it as his decided -opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of the -Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and -his wife should make their appearance at St. James's. The whole -family, in short, were properly overjoyed on the occasion. -The younger girls formed hopes of coming out a year or two -sooner than they might otherwise have done and the boys were -relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte's dying an old -maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had -gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections -were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, was -neither sensible nor agreeable his society was irksome, and his -attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her -husband. Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, -marriage had always been her object it was the only provision -for welleducated young women of small fortune, and however -uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest -preservative from want. This preservative she had now -obtained and at the age of twentyseven, without having ever -been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it. The least -agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must -occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she valued -beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and -probably would blame her and though her resolution was not to -be shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. -She resolved to give her the information herself, and therefore -charged Mr. Collins, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, -to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family. A -promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it -could not be kept without difficulty for the curiosity excited -by his long absence burst forth in such very direct questions on -his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the -same time exercising great selfdenial, for he was longing to -publish his prosperous love. -As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see -any of the family, the ceremony of leavetaking was performed -when the ladies moved for the night and Mrs. Bennet, with -great politeness and cordiality, said how happy they should be -to see him at Longbourn again, whenever his engagements might -allow him to visit them. -"My dear madam," he replied, "this invitation is particularly -gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive and -you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon -as possible." -They were all astonished and Mr. Bennet, who could by no -means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said -"But is there not danger of Lady Catherine's disapprobation -here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than -run the risk of offending your patroness." -"My dear sir," replied Mr. Collins, "I am particularly obliged -to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not -taking so material a step without her ladyship's concurrence." -"You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything -rather than her displeasure and if you find it likely to be raised -by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly -probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall -take no offence." -"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by -such affectionate attention and depend upon it, you will speedily -receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other -mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my -fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to -render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them -health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth." -With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew all of them -equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet -wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his -addresses to one of her younger girls, and Mary might have been -prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher -than any of the others there was a solidity in his reflections -which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as -herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve -himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very -agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every -hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after -breakfast, and in a private conference with Elizabeth related the -event of the day before. -The possibility of Mr. Collins's fancying himself in love with her -friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two -but that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far -from possibility as she could encourage him herself, and her -astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome at first -the bounds of decorum, and she could not help crying out -"Engaged to Mr. Collins My dear Charlotteimpossible" -The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in -telling her story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on -receiving so direct a reproach though, as it was no more than -she expected, she soon regained her composure, and calmly -replied -"Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it -incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any -woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to -succeed with you?" -But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a strong -effort for it, was able to assure with tolerable firmness that the -prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and -that she wished her all imaginable happiness. -"I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte. "You must be -surprised, very much surprisedso lately as Mr. Collins was -wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it -over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am -not romantic, you know I never was. I ask only a comfortable -home and considering Mr. Collins's character, connection, and -situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness -with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the -marriage state." -Elizabeth quietly answered "Undoubtedly" and after an -awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. -Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left -to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she -became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. -The strangeness of Mr. Collins's making two offers of marriage -within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now -accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte's opinion of -matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had not -supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she -would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. -Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins was a most humiliating picture -And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her -esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was -impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot -she had chosen. -Chapter -Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on -what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to -mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his -daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many -compliments to them, and much selfgratulation on the prospect -of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matterto -an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous for Mrs. -Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he -must be entirely mistaken and Lydia, always unguarded and -often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed -"Good Lord Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not -you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?" -Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have -borne without anger such treatment but Sir William's good -breeding carried him through it all and though he begged leave -to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened -to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy. -Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so -unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his -account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte -herself and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her -mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to -Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by -making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be -expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins, -and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London. -Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great -deal while Sir William remained but no sooner had he left them -than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she -persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter secondly, she -was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in thirdly, she -trusted that they would never be happy together and fourthly, -that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, -were plainly deduced from the whole one, that Elizabeth was -the real cause of the mischief and the other that she herself had -been barbarously misused by them all and on these two points -she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could -console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear -out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see -Elizabeth without scolding her, a month passed away before she -could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, -and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their -daughter. -Mr. Bennet's emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, -and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most -agreeable sort for it gratified him, he said, to discover that -Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think tolerably -sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his -daughter -Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match but she -said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their -happiness nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as -improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, -for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman and it affected them in no -other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton. -Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to -retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well -married and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual -to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet's sour looks and -illnatured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness -away. -Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which -kept them mutually silent on the subject and Elizabeth felt -persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between -them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with -fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy -she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose -happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been -gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return. -Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was -counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. -The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on -Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the -solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth's abode in the -family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience -on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous -expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of -their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it -was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had -been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again -at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday -fortnight for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved -his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, -which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his -amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the -happiest of men. -Mr. Collins's return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter -of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much -disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange -that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge it -was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She -hated having visitors in the house while her health was so -indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. -Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way -only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley's continued absence. -Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. -Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of -him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his -coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter a report which -highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to -contradict as a most scandalous falsehood. -Even Elizabeth began to fearnot that Bingley was indifferentbut -that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. -Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane's -happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she -could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of -his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted -by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London -might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment. -As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was, of course, -more painful than Elizabeth's, but whatever she felt she was -desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, -therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such -delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which -she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, -or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she -would think herself very ill used. It needed all Jane's steady -mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity. -Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but -his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had -been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to -need much attention and luckily for the others, the business -of lovemaking relieved them from a great deal of his company. -The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he -sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an -apology for his absence before the family went to bed. -Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very -mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an -agony of illhumour, and wherever she went she was sure of -hearing it talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to -her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with -jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, -she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession -and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was -convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and -resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, -as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She complained bitterly of -all this to her husband. -"Indeed, Mr. Bennet," said she, "it is very hard to think that -Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I -should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take -her place in it" -"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us -hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be -the survivor." -This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and therefore, instead -of making any answer, she went on as before. -"I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. -If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it." -"What should not you mind?" -"I should not mind anything at all." -"Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such -insensibility." -"I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the -entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an -estate from one's own daughters, I cannot understand and all -for the sake of Mr. Collins too Why should he have it more -than anybody else?" -"I leave it to yourself to determine," said Mr. Bennet. -Chapter -Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very -first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled -in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother's regret -at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in -Hertfordshire before he left the country. -Hope was over, entirely over and when Jane could attend to the -rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection -of the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy's -praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again -dwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasing -intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the -wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote -also with great pleasure of her brother's being an inmate of Mr. -Darcy's house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the -latter with regard to new furniture. -Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of -all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided -between concern for her sister, and resentment against all others. -To Caroline's assertion of her brother's being partial to Miss -Darcy she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she -doubted no more than she had ever done and much as she had -always been disposed to like him, she could not think without -anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that -want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his -designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness -to the caprice of their inclination. Had his own happiness, -however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to -sport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but her sister's -was involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible himself. -It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long -indulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothing -else and yet whether Bingley's regard had really died away, or -were suppressed by his friends' interference whether he had -been aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it had escaped his -observation whatever were the case, though her opinion of him -must be materially affected by the difference, her sister's -situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded. -A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her -feelings to Elizabeth but at last, on Mrs. Bennet's leaving them -together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield -and its master, she could not help saying -"Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself She -can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual -reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. -He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before." -Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but -said nothing. -"You doubt me," cried Jane, slightly colouring "indeed, you -have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable -man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either -to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God I -have not that pain. A little time, thereforeI shall certainly -try to get the better." -With a stronger voice she soon added, "I have this comfort -immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on -my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself." -"My dear Jane" exclaimed Elizabeth, "you are too good. Your -sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic I do not know -what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or -loved you as you deserve." -Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and -threw back the praise on her sister's warm affection. -"Nay," said Elizabeth, "this is not fair. You wish to think all -the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I -only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. -Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching -on your privilege of universal goodwill. You need not. There -are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think -well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied -with it and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of -all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be -placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two -instances lately, one I will not mention the other is Charlotte's -marriage. It is unaccountable In every view it is unaccountable" -"My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They -will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough -for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins's -respectability, and Charlotte's steady, prudent character. -Remember that she is one of a large family that as to fortune, -it is a most eligible match and be ready to believe, for -everybody's sake, that she may feel something like regard and -esteem for our cousin." -"To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no -one else could be benefited by such a belief as this for were I -persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only -think worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart. -My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrowminded, -silly man you know he is, as well as I do and you must feel, -as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a -proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though it is -Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, -change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to -persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and -insensibility of danger security for happiness." -"I must think your language too strong in speaking of both," -replied Jane "and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing -them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to -something else. You mentioned two instances. I cannot -misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain -me by thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinion -of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves -intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to -be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing -but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration -means more than it does." -"And men take care that they should." -"If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified but I have no -idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons -imagine." -"I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley's conduct to -design," said Elizabeth "but without scheming to do wrong, or -to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be -misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people's -feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business." -"And do you impute it to either of those?" -"Yes to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying -what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can." -"You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?" -"Yes, in conjunction with his friend." -"I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? -They can only wish his happiness and if he is attached to me, -no other woman can secure it." -"Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides -his happiness they may wish his increase of wealth and -consequence they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the -importance of money, great connections, and pride." -"Beyond a doubt, they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy," -replied Jane "but this may be from better feelings than you are -supposing. They have known her much longer than they have -known me no wonder if they love her better. But, whatever -may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have -opposed their brother's. What sister would think herself at -liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable? -If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part -us if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such -an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, -and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not -ashamed of having been mistakenor, at least, it is light, it -is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill -of him or his sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in -the light in which it may be understood." -Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish and from this time -Mr. Bingley's name was scarcely ever mentioned between them. -Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning -no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did -not account for it clearly, there was little chance of her ever -considering it with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured -to convince her of what she did not believe herself, that his -attentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and -transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more but -though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, -she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's best -comfort was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the -summer. -Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. "So, Lizzy," said he -one day, "your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate -her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in -love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her a -sort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn to -come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is -your time. Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint all -the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be your man. He -is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably." -"Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We -must not all expect Jane's good fortune." -"True," said Mr. Bennet, "but it is a comfort to think that -whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate -mother who will make the most of it." -Mr. Wickham's society was of material service in dispelling the -gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many -of the Longbourn family. They saw him often, and to his other -recommendations was now added that of general unreserve. -The whole of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on -Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was now -openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed and everybody -was pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr. -Darcy before they had known anything of the matter. -Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might -be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the -society of Hertfordshire her mild and steady candour always -pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakesbut -by everybody else Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men. -Chapter -After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, -Mr. Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival -of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be -alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his -bride as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his return into -Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the -happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn -with as much solemnity as before wished his fair cousins health -and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of -thanks. -On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of -receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend -the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, -gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by -nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had -difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within -view of his own warehouses, could have been so wellbred and -agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than -Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent, -elegant woman, and a great favourite with all her Longbourn -nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there -subsisted a particular regard. They had frequently been staying -with her in town. -The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business on her arrival was to -distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When -this was done she had a less active part to play. It became her -turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and -much to complain of. They had all been very illused since she -last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been upon the point of -marriage, and after all there was nothing in it. -"I do not blame Jane," she continued, "for Jane would have got -Mr. Bingley if she could. But Lizzy Oh, sister It is very hard -to think that she might have been Mr. Collins's wife by this time, -had it not been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer -in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, -that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and -that the Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The -Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for -what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. -It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own -family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before -anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the -greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, -of long sleeves." -Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given -before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth's correspondence -with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to -her nieces, turned the conversation. -When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the -subject. "It seems likely to have been a desirable match for -Jane," said she. "I am sorry it went off. But these things -happen so often A young man, such as you describe Mr. Bingley, -so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and -when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these -sort of inconsistencies are very frequent." -"An excellent consolation in its way," said Elizabeth, "but it will -not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often -happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young -man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he -was violently in love with only a few days before." -"But that expression of 'violently in love' is so hackneyed, -so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. -It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a halfhour's -acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how -violent was Mr. Bingley's love?" -"I never saw a more promising inclination he was growing quite -inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every -time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own -ball he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to -dance and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. -Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very -essence of love?" -"Oh, yesof that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. -Poor Jane I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she -may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to -you, Lizzy you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. -But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with -us? Change of scene might be of serviceand perhaps a little -relief from home may be as useful as anything." -Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt -persuaded of her sister's ready acquiescence. -"I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no consideration with -regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so -different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, -as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable -that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her." -"And that is quite impossible for he is now in the custody of -his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on -Jane in such a part of London My dear aunt, how could you -think of it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have heard of such a -place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a -month's ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were -he once to enter it and depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs -without him." -"So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does -not Jane correspond with his sister? She will not be able to -help calling." -"She will drop the acquaintance entirely." -But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place -this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley's -being withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the -subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not -consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she -thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and -the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more -natural influence of Jane's attractions. -Miss Bennet accepted her aunt's invitation with pleasure and -the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time, -than as she hoped by Caroline's not living in the same house -with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with -her, without any danger of seeing him. -The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn and what with the -Phillipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day -without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided -for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did -not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was -for home, some of the officers always made part of itof -which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one and on these -occasion, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth's -warm commendation, narrowly observed them both. Without -supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, -their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a -little uneasy and she resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the -subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the -imprudence of encouraging such an attachment. -To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, -unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years -ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in -that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, -therefore, many acquaintances in common and though Wickham had -been little there since the death of Darcy's father, it was yet -in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former -friends than she had been in the way of procuring. -Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy -by character perfectly well. Here consequently was an -inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection -of Pemberley with the minute description which Wickham could -give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of -its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On -being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy's treatment -of him, she tried to remember some of that gentleman's reputed -disposition when quite a lad which might agree with it, and was -confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr. -Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, illnatured -boy. -Chapter -Mrs. Gardiner's caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly -given on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her -alone after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went -on -"You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because -you are warned against it and, therefore, I am not afraid of -speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. -Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an -affection which the want of fortune would make so very -imprudent. I have nothing to say against him he is a most -interesting young man and if he had the fortune he ought to -have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you -must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and -we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on -your resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not -disappoint your father." -"My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed." -"Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise." -"Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care -of myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with -me, if I can prevent it." -"Elizabeth, you are not serious now." -"I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in -love with Mr. Wickham no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond -all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever sawand if he -becomes really attached to meI believe it will be better that -he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh that abominable -Mr. Darcy My father's opinion of me does me the greatest -honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, -however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, -I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you -unhappy but since we see every day that where there is -affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want -of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how -can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellowcreatures -if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be -wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not -to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his -first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be -wishing. In short, I will do my best." -"Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so -very often. At least, you should not remind your mother of -inviting him." -"As I did the other day," said Elizabeth with a conscious smile -"very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do -not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your -account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You -know my mother's ideas as to the necessity of constant company -for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do -what I think to be the wisest and now I hope you are satisfied." -Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked -her for the kindness of her hints, they parted a wonderful -instance of advice being given on such a point, without being -resented. -Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been -quitted by the Gardiners and Jane but as he took up his abode -with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. -Bennet. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at -length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even -repeatedly to say, in an illnatured tone, that she "wished they -might be happy." Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on -Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit and when she -rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother's -ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected -herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went -downstairs together, Charlotte said -"I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza." -"That you certainly shall." -"And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see -me?" -"We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire." -"I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, -therefore, to come to Hunsford." -Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure -in the visit. -"My father and Maria are coming to me in March," added -Charlotte, "and I hope you will consent to be of the party. -Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them." -The wedding took place the bride and bridegroom set off for -Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, -or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from -her friend and their correspondence was as regular and frequent -as it had ever been that it should be equally unreserved was -impossible. Elizabeth could never address her without feeling -that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined -not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what -had been, rather than what was. Charlotte's first letters were -received with a good deal of eagerness there could not but be -curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how -she would like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare -pronounce herself to be though, when the letters were read, -Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point -exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, -seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which -she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and -roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine's behaviour -was most friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins's picture -of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened and Elizabeth -perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the -rest. -Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce -their safe arrival in London and when she wrote again, Elizabeth -hoped it would be in her power to say something of the -Bingleys. -Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as -impatience generally is. Jane had been a week in town without -either seeing or hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, -however, by supposing that her last letter to her friend from -Longbourn had by some accident been lost. -"My aunt," she continued, "is going tomorrow into that part of -the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor -Street." -She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss -Bingley. "I did not think Caroline in spirits," were her words, -"but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving -her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore, -my last letter had never reached her. I inquired after their -brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. -Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss Darcy -was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was -not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say -I shall see them soon here." -Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that -accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister's being in -town. -Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She -endeavoured to persuade herself that she did not regret it but -she could no longer be blind to Miss Bingley's inattention. After -waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing -every evening a fresh excuse for her, the visitor did at last -appear but the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration -of her manner would allow Jane to deceive herself no longer. -The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will -prove what she felt. -"My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in -her better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to -have been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley's regard for me. -But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do -not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what -her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. -I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate -with me but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I -am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not return my -visit till yesterday and not a note, not a line, did I receive -in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she -had no pleasure in it she made a slight, formal apology, for not -calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and -was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went -away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no -longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. She was very -wrong in singling me out as she did I can safely say that every -advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because -she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am -very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need -not explain myself farther and though we know this anxiety to -be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account -for her behaviour to me and so deservedly dear as he is to his -sister, whatever anxiety she must feel on his behalf is natural -and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her having any -such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we -must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am -certain, from something she said herself and yet it would seem, -by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself -that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot understand it. -If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost -tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in -all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought, -and think only of what will make me happyyour affection, and -the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear -from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never -returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not -with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely -glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at -Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am -sure you will be very comfortable there.Yours, etc." -This letter gave Elizabeth some pain but her spirits returned as -she considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister -at least. All expectation from the brother was now absolutely -over. She would not even wish for a renewal of his attentions. -His character sunk on every review of it and as a punishment for -him, as well as a possible advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped -he might really soon marry Mr. Darcy's sister, as by Wickham's -account, she would make him abundantly regret what he had -thrown away. -Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise -concerning that gentleman, and required information and -Elizabeth had such to send as might rather give contentment to -her aunt than to herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, -his attentions were over, he was the admirer of some one else. -Elizabeth was watchful enough to see it all, but she could see it -and write of it without material pain. Her heart had been but -slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied with believing that -she would have been his only choice, had fortune permitted it. -The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most -remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering -himself agreeable but Elizabeth, less clearsighted perhaps in -this case than in Charlotte's, did not quarrel with him for his -wish of independence. Nothing, on the contrary, could be more -natural and while able to suppose that it cost him a few struggles -to relinquish her, she was ready to allow it a wise and desirable -measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy. -All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner and after relating -the circumstances, she thus went on "I am now convinced, my -dear aunt, that I have never been much in love for had I really -experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present -detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my -feelings are not only cordial towards him they are even -impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate her at -all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good -sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My watchfulness -has been effectual and though I certainly should be a more -interesting object to all my acquaintances were I distractedly -in love with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative -insignificance. Importance may sometimes be purchased too -dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to heart -than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not -yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men -must have something to live on as well as the plain." -Chapter -With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and -otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, -sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did January and February -pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had -not at first thought very seriously of going thither but Charlotte, -she soon found, was depending on the plan and she gradually -learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as -greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing -Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There -was novelty in the scheme, and as, with such a mother and such -uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little -change was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey -would moreover give her a peep at Jane and, in short, as the -time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. -Everything, however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled -according to Charlotte's first sketch. She was to accompany Sir -William and his second daughter. The improvement of spending -a night in London was added in time, and the plan became -perfect as plan could be. -The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly -miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her -going, that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to -answer her letter. -The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly -friendly on his side even more. His present pursuit could not -make him forget that Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to -deserve his attention, the first to listen and to pity, the first -to be admired and in his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing -her every enjoyment, reminding her of what she was to expect in -Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their opinion of hertheir -opinion of everybodywould always coincide, there was a solicitude, -an interest which she felt must ever attach her to him with a most -sincere regard and she parted from him convinced that, whether -married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable and -pleasing. -Her fellowtravellers the next day were not of a kind to make her -think him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter -Maria, a goodhumoured girl, but as emptyheaded as himself, -had nothing to say that could be worth hearing, and were -listened to with about as much delight as the rattle of the chaise. -Elizabeth loved absurdities, but she had known Sir William's too -long. He could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his -presentation and knighthood and his civilities were worn out, -like his information. -It was a journey of only twentyfour miles, and they began it so -early as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove -to Mr. Gardiner's door, Jane was at a drawingroom window -watching their arrival when they entered the passage she was -there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her -face, was pleased to see it healthful and lovely as ever. On the -stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for -their cousin's appearance would not allow them to wait in the -drawingroom, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her for -a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and -kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away the morning in -bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres. -Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first object was -her sister and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in -reply to her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled -to support her spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was -reasonable, however, to hope that they would not continue long. -Mrs. Gardiner gave her the particulars also of Miss Bingley's -visit in Gracechurch Street, and repeated conversations -occurring at different times between Jane and herself, which -proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the -acquaintance. -Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham's desertion, -and complimented her on bearing it so well. -"But my dear Elizabeth," she added, "what sort of girl is Miss -King? I should be sorry to think our friend mercenary." -"Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial -affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where -does discretion end, and avarice begin? Last Christmas you -were afraid of his marrying me, because it would be imprudent -and now, because he is trying to get a girl with only ten -thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is mercenary." -"If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall -know what to think." -"She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of -her." -"But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather's -death made her mistress of this fortune." -"Nowhat should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain -my affections because I had no money, what occasion could -there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about, -and who was equally poor?" -"But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions -towards her so soon after this event." -"A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those -elegant decorums which other people may observe. If she does -not object to it, why should we?" -"Her not objecting does not justify him. It only shows her -being deficient in something herselfsense or feeling." -"Well," cried Elizabeth, "have it as you choose. He shall be -mercenary, and she shall be foolish." -"No, Lizzy, that is what I do not choose. I should be sorry, -you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in -Derbyshire." -"Oh if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men -who live in Derbyshire and their intimate friends who live -in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. -Thank Heaven I am going tomorrow where I shall find a man -who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor -sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth -knowing, after all." -"Take care, Lizzy that speech savours strongly of disappointment." -Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she -had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her -uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking -in the summer. -"We have not determined how far it shall carry us," said Mrs. -Gardiner, "but, perhaps, to the Lakes." -No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and -her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. -"Oh, my dear, dear aunt," she rapturously cried, "what delight -what felicity You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to -disappointment and spleen. What are young men to rocks and -mountains? Oh what hours of transport we shall spend And -when we do return, it shall not be like other travellers, -without being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We -will know where we have gonewe will recollect what we have -seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together -in our imaginations nor when we attempt to describe any -particular scene, will we begin quarreling about its relative -situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than -those of the generality of travellers." -Chapter -Every object in the next day's journey was new and interesting -to Elizabeth and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment for -she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for -her health, and the prospect of her northern tour was a constant -source of delight. -When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye -was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to -bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary -on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she -had heard of its inhabitants. -At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to -the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel -hedge, everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and -Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the -small gate which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst -the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were -all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. -Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, -and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when she -found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that -her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage his formal -civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some -minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after -all her family. They were then, with no other delay than his -pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house -and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a -second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, -and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment. -Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory and she could -not help in fancying that in displaying the good proportion of -the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself -particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she -had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat -and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of -repentance, and rather looked with wonder at her friend that -she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When -Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be -ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, she involuntarily -turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern -a faint blush but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear. -After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in -the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account -of their journey, and of all that had happened in London, Mr. -Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was -large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he -attended himself. To work in this garden was one of his most -respectable pleasures and Elizabeth admired the command of -countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of -the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible. -Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and -scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked -for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left -beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every -direction, and could tell how many tress there were in the most -distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which -the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared -with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees -that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It -was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground. -From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two -meadows but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the -remains of a white frost, turned back and while Sir William -accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the -house, extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity -of showing it without her husband's help. It was rather small, -but well built and convenient and everything was fitted up and -arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth -gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be -forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout, -and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed -he must be often forgotten. -She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the -country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, -when Mr. Collins joining in, observed -"Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady -Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I -need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability -and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured -with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have -scarcely any hesitation in saying she will include you and my -sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during -your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. -We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to -walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. -I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has -several." -"Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed," -added Charlotte, "and a most attentive neighbour." -"Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort -of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference." -The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire -news, and telling again what had already been written and when -it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to -meditate upon Charlotte's degree of contentment, to understand -her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with, her -husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She -had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor -of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. -Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. -A lively imagination soon settled it all. -About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting -ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the -whole house in confusion and, after listening a moment, she -heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling -loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria in the -landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out -"Oh, my dear Eliza pray make haste and come into the diningroom, -for there is such a sight to be seen I will not tell you what -it is. Make haste, and come down this moment." -Elizabeth asked questions in vain Maria would tell her nothing -more, and down they ran into the diningroom, which fronted -the lane, in quest of this wonder It was two ladies stopping in -a low phaeton at the garden gate. -"And is this all?" cried Elizabeth. "I expected at least that the -pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady -Catherine and her daughter." -"La my dear," said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, "it is -not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives -with them the other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. She -is quite a little creature. Who would have thought that she could -be so thin and small?" -"She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this -wind. Why does she not come in?" -"Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of -favours when Miss de Bourgh comes in." -"I like her appearance," said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. -"She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. -She will make him a very proper wife." -Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in -conversation with the ladies and Sir William, to Elizabeth's -high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest -contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly -bowing whenever Miss de Bourgh looked that way. -At length there was nothing more to be said the ladies drove on, -and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner -saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their -good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know -that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day. -Chapter -Mr. Collins's triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was -complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness -to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility -towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished -for and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon, -was such an instance of Lady Catherine's condescension, as he -knew not how to admire enough. -"I confess," said he, "that I should not have been at all surprised -by her ladyship's asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the -evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of -her affability, that it would happen. But who could have -foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined -that we should receive an invitation to dine there an invitation, -moreover, including the whole party so immediately after your -arrival" -"I am the less surprised at what has happened," replied Sir -William, "from that knowledge of what the manners of the great -really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. -About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not -uncommon." -Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning -but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing -them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, -so many servants, and so splendid a dinner, might not wholly -overpower them. -When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to -Elizabeth -"Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your -apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of -dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would -advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior -to the restthere is no occasion for anything more. Lady -Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply -dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved." -While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their -different doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady -Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. -Such formidable accounts of her ladyship, and her manner of -living, quite frightened Maria Lucas who had been little used to -company, and she looked forward to her introduction at Rosings -with as much apprehension as her father had done to his -presentation at St. James's. -As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half -a mile across the park. Every park has its beauty and its -prospects and Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though -she could not be in such raptures as Mr. Collins expected the -scene to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration -of the windows in front of the house, and his relation of what the -glazing altogether had originally cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh. -When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria's alarm was -every moment increasing, and even Sir William did not look -perfectly calm. Elizabeth's courage did not fail her. She had -heard nothing of Lady Catherine that spoke her awful from any -extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere -stateliness of money or rank she thought she could witness -without trepidation. -From the entrancehall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a -rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finished ornaments, -they followed the servants through an antechamber, to the room -where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were -sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive -them and as Mrs. Collins had settled it with her husband that the -office of introduction should be hers, it was performed in a -proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which -he would have thought necessary. -In spite of having been at St. James's Sir William was so -completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had -but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his -seat without saying a word and his daughter, frightened almost -out of her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing -which way to look. Elizabeth found herself quite equal to the -scene, and could observe the three ladies before her composedly. -Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with stronglymarked -features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was -not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as -to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not -rendered formidable by silence but whatever she said was -spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her selfimportance, -and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to Elizabeth's mind and -from the observation of the day altogether, she believed Lady -Catherine to be exactly what he represented. -When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and -deportment she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she -turned her eyes on the daughter, she could almost have joined -in Maria's astonishment at her being so thin and so small. There -was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the ladies. -Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly her features, though not -plain, were insignificant and she spoke very little, except in -a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance there was -nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to -what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before -her eyes. -After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the -windows to admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to -point out its beauties, and Lady Catherine kindly informing -them that it was much better worth looking at in the summer. -The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the -servants and all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had -promised and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at -the bottom of the table, by her ladyship's desire, and looked as -if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved, -and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity and every dish was -commended, first by him and then by Sir William, who was now -enough recovered to echo whatever his soninlaw said, in a -manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. -But Lady Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, -and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the -table proved a novelty to them. The party did not supply much -conversation. Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever there was -an opening, but she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de -Bourghthe former of whom was engaged in listening to Lady -Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all dinnertime. -Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss -de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing -she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, -and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire. -When the ladies returned to the drawingroom, there was little -to be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did -without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her -opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved -that she was not used to have her judgement controverted. She -inquired into Charlotte's domestic concerns familiarly and -minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the management -of them all told her how everything ought to be regulated in so -small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the care of her -cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was beneath -this great lady's attention, which could furnish her with an -occasion of dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse -with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria -and Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections -she knew the least, and who she observed to Mrs. Collins was a -very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked her, at different -times, how many sisters she had, whether they were older or -younger than herself, whether any of them were likely to be -married, whether they were handsome, where they had been -educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her -mother's maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her -questions but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine -then observed, -"Your father's estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For -your sake," turning to Charlotte, "I am glad of it but otherwise I -see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was -not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh's family. Do you -play and sing, Miss Bennet?" -"A little." -"Oh thensome time or other we shall be happy to hear you. -Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior toYou -shall try it some day. Do your sisters play and sing?" -"One of them does." -"Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The -Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income -as yours. Do you draw?" -"No, not at all." -"What, none of you?" -"Not one." -"That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. -Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the -benefit of masters." -"My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates -London." -"Has your governess left you?" -"We never had any governess." -"No governess How was that possible? Five daughters brought -up at home without a governess I never heard of such a thing. -Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education." -Elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had -not been the case. -"Then, who taught you? who attended to you? Without a -governess, you must have been neglected." -"Compared with some families, I believe we were but such of us -as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always -encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. -Those who chose to be idle, certainly might." -"Aye, no doubt but that is what a governess will prevent, and -if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most -strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be -done in education without steady and regular instruction, and -nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many -families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am -always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces -of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my -means and it was but the other day that I recommended another -young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, -and the family are quite delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I -tell you of Lady Metcalf's calling yesterday to thank me? She -finds Miss Pope a treasure. 'Lady Catherine,' said she, 'you -have given me a treasure.' Are any of your younger sisters out, -Miss Bennet?" -"Yes, ma'am, all." -"All What, all five out at once? Very odd And you only -the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are -married Your younger sisters must be very young?" -"Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps she is full young to -be much in company. But really, ma'am, I think it would be -very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their -share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have -the means or inclination to marry early. The lastborn has as -good a right to the pleasures of youth at the first. And to be -kept back on such a motive I think it would not be very likely -to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind." -"Upon my word," said her ladyship, "you give your opinion very -decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?" -"With three younger sisters grown up," replied Elizabeth, -smiling, "your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it." -Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct -answer and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature -who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence. -"You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need -not conceal your age." -"I am not oneandtwenty." -When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the -cardtables were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. -and Mrs. Collins sat down to quadrille and as Miss de Bourgh -chose to play at cassino, the two girls had the honour of -assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her party. Their table was -superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was uttered that did -not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson expressed her -fears of Miss de Bourgh's being too hot or too cold, or having -too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the -other table. Lady Catherine was generally speakingstating -the mistakes of the three others, or relating some anecdote of -herself. Mr. Collins was employed in agreeing to everything -her ladyship said, thanking her for every fish he won, and -apologising if he thought he won too many. Sir William did not -say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes and noble -names. -When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as -they chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered -to Mrs. Collins, gratefully accepted and immediately ordered. -The party then gathered round the fire to hear Lady Catherine -determine what weather they were to have on the morrow. From -these instructions they were summoned by the arrival of the -coach and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. Collins's -side and as many bows on Sir William's they departed. As soon -as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her -cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, -which, for Charlotte's sake, she made more favourable than it -really was. But her commendation, though costing her some -trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very -soon obliged to take her ladyship's praise into his own hands. -Chapter -Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsford, but his visit was -long enough to convince him of his daughter's being most -comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and -such a neighbour as were not often met with. While Sir William -was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his morning to driving him -out in his gig, and showing him the country but when he went -away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and -Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of -her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between -breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in -the garden or in reading and writing, and looking out of the -window in his own bookroom, which fronted the road. The -room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at -first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the -diningparlour for common use it was a better sized room, and -had a more pleasant aspect but she soon saw that her friend -had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would -undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they -sat in one equally lively and she gave Charlotte credit for -the arrangement. -From the drawingroom they could distinguish nothing in the -lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of -what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss de -Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming -to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She -not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few -minutes' conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever -prevailed upon to get out. -Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to -Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it -necessary to go likewise and till Elizabeth recollected that -there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could -not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then -they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing -escaped her observation that was passing in the room during -these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at -their work, and advised them to do it differently found fault -with the arrangement of the furniture or detected the housemaid -in negligence and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do -it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins's joints of -meat were too large for her family. -Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in -commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active -magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which -were carried to her by Mr. Collins and whenever any of the -cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or -too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their -differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into -harmony and plenty. -The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice -a week and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being -only one cardtable in the evening, every such entertainment was -the counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few, -as the style of living in the neighbourhood in general was beyond -Mr. Collins's reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, -and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough -there were halfhours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, -and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had -often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and -where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady -Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of -the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one -seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach -of Lady Catherine's curiosity. -In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed -away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was -to bring an addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small -a circle must be important. Elizabeth had heard soon after her -arrival that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few -weeks, and though there were not many of her acquaintances whom -she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively -new to look at in their Rosings parties, and she might be amused -in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley's designs on him were, by -his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined -by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the greatest -satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, -and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been -frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself. -His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage for Mr. Collins -was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges -opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest -assurance of it, and after making his bow as the carriage turned -into the Park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the -following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. -There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for -Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the -younger son of his uncle Lord , and, to the great surprise -of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentleman -accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband's -room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, -told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding -"I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy -would never have come so soon to wait upon me." -Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the -compliment, before their approach was announced by the -doorbell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered -the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about -thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the -gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look -in Hertfordshirepaid his compliments, with his usual reserve, -to Mrs. Collins, and whatever might be his feelings toward her -friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth -merely curtseyed to him without saying a word. -Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with -the readiness and ease of a wellbred man, and talked very -pleasantly but his cousin, after having addressed a slight -observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for -some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, -his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Elizabeth after -the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, -and after a moment's pause, added -"My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have -you never happened to see her there?" -She was perfectly sensible that he never had but she wished -to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had -passed between the Bingleys and Jane, and she thought he -looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been -so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued -no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away. -Chapter -Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were very much admired at the -Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably -to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some -days, however, before they received any invitation thitherfor -while there were visitors in the house, they could not be -necessary and it was not till Easterday, almost a week after the -gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an -attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to -come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very -little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had -called at the Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. -Darcy they had seen only at church. -The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they -joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawingroom. Her ladyship -received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by -no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else and -she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to -them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person -in the room. -Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them anything -was a welcome relief to him at Rosings and Mrs. Collins's -pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now -seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and -Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books -and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained -in that room before and they conversed with so much spirit and -flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well -as of Mr. Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned -towards them with a look of curiosity and that her ladyship, -after a while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, -for she did not scruple to call out -"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are -talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear -what it is." -"We are speaking of music, madam," said he, when no longer -able to avoid a reply. -"Of music Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my -delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are -speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, -who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better -natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great -proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to -apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. -How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?" -Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's -proficiency. -"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady -Catherine "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to -excel if she does not practice a good deal." -"I assure you, madam," he replied, "that she does not need such -advice. She practises very constantly." -"So much the better. It cannot be done too much and when I -next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any -account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music -is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss -Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless -she practises more and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, -she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings -every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. -She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house." -Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's illbreeding, and -made no answer. -When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth -of having promised to play to him and she sat down directly to -the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine -listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other -nephew till the latter walked away from her, and making with -his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself -so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. -Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient -pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said -"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state -to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister does play -so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to -be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at -every attempt to intimidate me." -"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you -could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming -you and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long -enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally -professing opinions which in fact are not your own." -Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to -Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty -notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am -particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose -my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to -pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, -it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my -disadvantage in Hertfordshireand, give me leave to say, very -impolitic toofor it is provoking me to retaliate, and such -things may come out as will shock your relations to hear." -"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly. -"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried -Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves -among strangers." -"You shall hear thenbut prepare yourself for something very -dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, -you must know, was at a balland at this ball, what do you -think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen -were scarce and, to my certain knowledge, more than one -young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, -you cannot deny the fact." -"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the -assembly beyond my own party." -"True and nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom. Well, -Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your -orders." -"Perhaps," said Darcy, "I should have judged better, had I -sought an introduction but I am illqualified to recommend -myself to strangers." -"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth, -still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a -man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is -ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?" -"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without -applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the -trouble." -"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said -Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. -I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested -in their concerns, as I often see done." -"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument -in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They -have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the -same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my -own faultbecause I will not take the trouble of practising. -It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any -other woman's of superior execution." -Darcy smiled and said, "You are perfectly right. You have -employed your time much better. No one admitted to the -privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither -of us perform to strangers." -Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to -know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began -playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening -for a few minutes, said to Darcy -"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, -and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a -very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to -Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her -health allowed her to learn." -Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to -his cousin's praise but neither at that moment nor at any other -could she discern any symptom of love and from the whole of -his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for -Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry -her, had she been his relation. -Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance, -mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. -Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility, -and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument -till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home. -Chapter -Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to -Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into -the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the -certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she -thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that -apprehension was putting away her halffinished letter that she -might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, -and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, -entered the room. -He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised -for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all -the ladies were to be within. -They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were -made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was -absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in -this emergence recollecting when she had seen him last in -Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say -on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed -"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, -Mr. Darcy It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. -Bingley to see you all after him so soon for, if I recollect right, -he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, -when you left London?" -"Perfectly so, I thank you." -She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a -short pause added -"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of -ever returning to Netherfield again?" -"I have never heard him say so but it is probable that he may -spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many -friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are -continually increasing." -"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for -the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for -then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, -Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience -of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to -keep it or quit it on the same principle." -"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up -as soon as any eligible purchase offers." -Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of -his friend and, having nothing else to say, was now determined -to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him. -He took the hint, and soon began with, "This seems a very -comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to -it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford." -"I believe she didand I am sure she could not have bestowed -her kindness on a more grateful object." -"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife." -"Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with -one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted -him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an -excellent understandingthough I am not certain that I consider -her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She -seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is -certainly a very good match for her." -"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a -distance of her own family and friends." -"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles." -"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a -day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance." -"I should never have considered the distance as one of the -advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never -have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family." -"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. -Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I -suppose, would appear far." -As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied -she understood he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane -and Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered -"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near -her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on -many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the -expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. -But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a -comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent -journeysand I am persuaded my friend would not call herself -near her family under less than half the present distance." -Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "You -cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. -You cannot have been always at Longbourn." -Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some -change of feeling he drew back his chair, took a newspaper -from the table, and glancing over it, said, in a colder voice -"Are you pleased with Kent?" -A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either -side calm and conciseand soon put an end to by the entrance -of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. The -teteatete surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which -had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a -few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away. -"What can be the meaning of this?" said Charlotte, as soon as he -was gone. "My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he -would never have called us in this familiar way." -But when Elizabeth told of his silence it did not seem very -likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case and after -various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to -proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was -the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were -over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a -billiardtable, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors and -in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk -to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a -temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. -They called at various times of the morning, sometimes -separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied -by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam -came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion -which of course recommended him still more and Elizabeth was -reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by -his evident admiration of her, of her former favourite George -Wickham and though, in comparing them, she saw there was -less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners, she -believed he might have the best informed mind. -But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more -difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he -frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his -lips and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity -rather than of choicea sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure -to himself. He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins -knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally -laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, -which her own knowledge of him could not have told her and as -she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, -and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself -seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they -were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford but without -much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, -but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an -earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there -were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but -absence of mind. -She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of -his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea -and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from -the danger of raising expectations which might only end in -disappointment for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, -that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose -him to be in her power. -In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her -marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the -most pleasant man he certainly admired her, and his situation in -life was most eligible but, to counterbalance these advantages, -Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his -cousin could have none at all. -Chapter -More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, -unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of -the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, -and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him -at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur -a second time, therefore, was very odd Yet it did, and even a -third. It seemed like wilful illnature, or a voluntary penance, -for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries -and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it -necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great -deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of -listening much but it struck her in the course of their third -rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questionsabout -her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and -her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness and that in -speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house, -he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she -would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could -he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he -meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in -that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad -to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. -She was engaged one day as she walked, in perusing Jane's last -letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane -had not written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised -by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam -was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and -forcing a smile, she said -"I did not know before that you ever walked this way." -"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I -generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the -Parsonage. Are you going much farther?" -"No, I should have turned in a moment." -And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the -Parsonage together. -"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she. -"Yesif Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his -disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases." -"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has -at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know -anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he -likes than Mr. Darcy." -"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel -Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better -means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and -many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you -know, must be inured to selfdenial and dependence." -"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very -little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of -selfdenial and dependence? When have you been prevented by -want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring -anything you had a fancy for?" -"These are home questionsand perhaps I cannot say that I -have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters -of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger -sons cannot marry where they like." -"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they -very often do." -"Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not -many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some -attention to money." -"Is this," thought Elizabeth, "meant for me?" and she coloured -at the idea but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, "And -pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless -the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask -above fifty thousand pounds." -He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To -interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with -what had passed, she soon afterwards said -"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for -the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does -not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, -perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is -under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her." -"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he -must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship -of Miss Darcy." -"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you -make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies -of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she -has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way." -As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly and -the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed -Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her -that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She -directly replied -"You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her and -I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. -She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, -Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that -you know them." -"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike -manhe is a great friend of Darcy's." -"Oh yes," said Elizabeth drily "Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind -to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him." -"Care of him Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of -him in those points where he most wants care. From something -that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think -Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his -pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the -person meant. It was all conjecture." -"What is it you mean?" -"It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally -known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family, it -would be an unpleasant thing." -"You may depend upon my not mentioning it." -"And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it -to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this that he -congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from -the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without -mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected -it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get -into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been -together the whole of last summer." -"Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?" -"I understood that there were some very strong objections -against the lady." -"And what arts did he use to separate them?" -"He did not talk to me of his own arts," said Fitzwilliam, smiling. -"He only told me what I have now told you." -Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling -with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked -her why she was so thoughtful. -"I am thinking of what you have been telling me," said she. -"Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he -to be the judge?" -"You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?" -"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the -propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own -judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner -his friend was to be happy. But," she continued, recollecting -herself, "as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to -condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much -affection in the case." -"That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitzwilliam, "but it is a -lessening of the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly." -This was spoken jestingly but it appeared to her so just a picture -of Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer, -and therefore, abruptly changing the conversation talked on -indifferent matters until they reached the Parsonage. There, shut -into her own room, as soon as their visitor left them, she could -think without interruption of all that she had heard. It was not -to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those -with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the -world two men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless -influence. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to -separate Bingley and Jane she had never doubted but she had -always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and -arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead -him, he was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of -all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He -had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most -affectionate, generous heart in the world and no one could say -how lasting an evil he might have inflicted. -"There were some very strong objections against the lady," -were Colonel Fitzwilliam's words and those strong objections -probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, -and another who was in business in London. -"To Jane herself," she exclaimed, "there could be no possibility -of objection all loveliness and goodness as she isher -understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners -captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father, -who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities Mr. Darcy -himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will -probably never each." When she thought of her mother, her -confidence gave way a little but she would not allow that any -objections there had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose -pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from -the want of importance in his friend's connections, than from -their want of sense and she was quite decided, at last, that he -had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly -by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister. -The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on -a headache and it grew so much worse towards the evening, -that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined -her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were -engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was really -unwell, did not press her to go and as much as possible -prevented her husband from pressing her but Mr. Collins could -not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's being rather -displeased by her staying at home. -Chapter -When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate -herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her -employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had -written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual -complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any -communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost -every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which -had been used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding -from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly -disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. -Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, -with an attention which it had hardly received on the first -perusal. Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what misery he had been -able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister's -sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit -to Rosings was to end on the day after the nextand, a still -greater, that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with -Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her -spirits, by all that affection could do. -She could not think of Darcy's leaving Kent without remembering -that his cousin was to go with him but Colonel Fitzwilliam had -made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable -as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him. -While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound -of the doorbell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the -idea of its being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once -before called late in the evening, and might now come to inquire -particularly after her. But this idea was soon banished, and -her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter -amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an -hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, -imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. -She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few -moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. Elizabeth -was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of -several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, -and thus began -"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not -be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire -and love you." -Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, -coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient -encouragement and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long -felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well but there -were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed and he -was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. -His sense of her inferiorityof its being a degradationof the -family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were -dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he -was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit. -In spite of her deeplyrooted dislike, she could not be insensible -to the compliment of such a man's affection, and though her -intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for -the pain he was to receive till, roused to resentment by his -subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She -tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, -when he should have done. He concluded with representing to -her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his -endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer and with -expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her -acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily -see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of -apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real -security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, -and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she -said -"In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode -to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, -however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that -obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would -now thank you. But I cannotI have never desired your good -opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I -am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most -unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short -duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented -the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in -overcoming it after this explanation." -Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his -eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less -resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with -anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every -feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, -and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have -attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. -At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said -"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of -expecting I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so -little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of -small importance." -"I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a -desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that -you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even -against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, -if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I -have. Had not my feelings decided against youhad they been -indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that -any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has -been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a -most beloved sister?" -As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour but -the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting -to interrupt her while she continued -"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive -can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. -You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, -if not the only means of dividing them from each otherof -exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and -instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, -and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind." -She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was -listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any -feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of -affected incredulity. -"Can you deny that you have done it?" she repeated. -With assumed tranquillity he then replied "I have no wish of -denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend -from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him -I have been kinder than towards myself." -Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil -reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to -conciliate her. -"But it is not merely this affair," she continued, "on which my -dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion -of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital -which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this -subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act -of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what -misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?" -"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns," said -Darcy, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour. -"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help -feeling an interest in him?" -"His misfortunes" repeated Darcy contemptuously "yes, his -misfortunes have been great indeed." -"And of your infliction," cried Elizabeth with energy. "You -have reduced him to his present state of povertycomparative -poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must -know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the -best years of his life of that independence which was no less his -due than his desert. You have done all this and yet you can -treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule." -"And this," cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across -the room, "is your opinion of me This is the estimation in -which you hold me I thank you for explaining it so fully. My -faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed But -perhaps," added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards -her, "these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your -pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had -long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter -accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater -policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief -of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination by -reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort -is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. -They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in -the inferiority of your connections?to congratulate myself on -the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly -beneath my own?" -Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment yet she -tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said -"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of -your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared -the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you -behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner." -She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued -"You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible -way that would have tempted me to accept it." -Again his astonishment was obvious and he looked at her with -an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went -on -"From the very beginningfrom the first moment, I may almost -sayof my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me -with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your -selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the -groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have -built so immovable a dislike and I had not known you a month -before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I -could ever be prevailed on to marry." -"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend -your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own -have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your -time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." -And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth -heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the -house. -The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not -how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and -cried for halfanhour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on -what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she -should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy That he -should have been in love with her for so many months So much -in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections -which had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, -and which must appear at least with equal force in his own -casewas almost incredible It was gratifying to have inspired -unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his -abominable pridehis shameless avowal of what he had done with -respect to Janehis unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, -though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in -which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom -he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the -consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited. She -continued in very agitated reflections till the sound of Lady -Catherine's carriage made her feel how unequal she was to -encounter Charlotte's observation, and hurried her away to -her room. -Chapter -Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and -meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could -not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened it was -impossible to think of anything else and, totally indisposed -for employment, she resolved, soon after breakfast, to indulge -herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her -favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes -coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she -turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpikeroad. -The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she -soon passed one of the gates into the ground. -After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she -was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the -gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now -passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and -every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was -on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse -of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park -he was moving that way and, fearful of its being Mr. Darcy, -she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was -now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, -pronounced her name. She had turned away but on hearing -herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. -Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time -reached it also, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively -took, said, with a look of haughty composure, "I have been -walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will -you do me the honour of reading that letter?" And then, with a -slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out of -sight. -With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, -Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder, -perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letterpaper, -written quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself -was likewise full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then -began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in the -morning, and was as follows -"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the -apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments -or renewal of those offers which were last night so disgusting to -you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling -myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both, -cannot be too soon forgotten and the effort which the formation -and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been -spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. -You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand -your attention your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, -but I demand it of your justice. -"Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means of -equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first -mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had -detached Mr. Bingley from your sister, and the other, that I had, -in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and -humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the -prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to have -thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged -favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other -dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought -up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity, to which the -separation of two young persons, whose affection could be the -growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. But -from the severity of that blame which was last night so liberally -bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in the -future secured, when the following account of my actions and -their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them, -which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating -feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I -am sorry. The necessity must be obeyed, and further apology -would be absurd. -"I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common -with others, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any other -young woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of -the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his -feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before. -At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was -first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental -information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had given -rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it -as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. -From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively -and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet -was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I -also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and -engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, -and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that -though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not -invite them by any participation of sentiment. If you have not -been mistaken here, I must have been in error. Your superior -knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it be -so, if I have been misled by such error to inflict pain on her, -your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple -to assert, that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air -was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction -that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be -easily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent -is certainbut I will venture to say that my investigation and -decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I did -not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it I believed -it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. -My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last -night acknowledged to have the utmost force of passion to put -aside, in my own case the want of connection could not be so -great an evil to my friend as to me. But there were other causes -of repugnance causes which, though still existing, and existing -to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavoured -to forget, because they were not immediately before me. These -causes must be stated, though briefly. The situation of -your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in -comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so -almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three younger -sisters, and occasionally even by your father. Pardon me. It -pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects -of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this -representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider -that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of -the like censure, is praise no less generally bestowed on you and -your elder sister, than it is honourable to the sense and -disposition of both. I will only say farther that from what passed -that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every -inducement heightened which could have led me before, to -preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy -connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day -following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of -soon returning. -"The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters' -uneasiness had been equally excited with my own our coincidence -of feeling was soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time -was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved -on joining him directly in London. We accordingly wentand -there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my -friend the certain evils of such a choice. I described, and -enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might -have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose -that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not -been seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, of -your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return -his affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. But Bingley -has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my -judgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he -had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade -him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction -had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot -blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part -of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with -satisfaction it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of -art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I -knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley but her brother -is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill -consequence is perhaps probable but his regard did not appear -to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. -Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me it is -done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject -I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I -have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done and -though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally -appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them. -"With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having -injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you -the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has -particularly accused me I am ignorant but of the truth of -what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of -undoubted veracity. -"Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for -many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and -whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally -inclined my father to be of service to him and on George -Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore -liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and -afterwards at Cambridgemost important assistance, as his own -father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would -have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. My -father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose -manner were always engaging he had also the highest opinion of -him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to -provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since -I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The -vicious propensitiesthe want of principle, which he was careful -to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape -the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with -himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded -moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall -give you painto what degree you only can tell. But whatever -may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a -suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding -his real characterit adds even another motive. -"My excellent father died about five years ago and his attachment -to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he -particularly recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in -the best manner that his profession might allowand if he took -orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon -as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand -pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half -a year from these events, Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, -having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should -not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate -pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could -not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying -law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds -would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished, -than believed him to be sincere but, at any rate, was perfectly -ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham -ought not to be a clergyman the business was therefore soon -settledhe resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were -it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, -and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection -between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to -invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town -I believe he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere -pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a -life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard -little of him but on the decease of the incumbent of the living -which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter -for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I -had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had -found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely -resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living -in questionof which he trusted there could be little doubt, as -he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, -and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. -You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, -or for resisting every repetition to it. His resentment was in -proportion to the distress of his circumstancesand he was -doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his -reproaches to myself. After this period every appearance of -acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But last -summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. -"I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to -forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present -should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said -thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is -more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of -my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a -year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment -formed for her in London and last summer she went with the -lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate and thither also went -Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design for there proved to have -been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in -whose character we were most unhappily deceived and by -her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to -Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression -of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to -believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was -then but fifteen, which must be her excuse and after stating her -imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed the knowledge of it -to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the -intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the -idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost -looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You -may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's -credit and feelings prevented any public exposure but I wrote -to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge -was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief -object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty -thousand pounds but I cannot help supposing that the hope of -revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge -would have been complete indeed. -"This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which -we have been concerned together and if you do not absolutely -reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth -of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, -under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you but his -success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you -previously were of everything concerning either, detection -could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in -your inclination. -"You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last -night but I was not then master enough of myself to know what -could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here -related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of -Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and -constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of -my father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every -particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me -should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented -by the same cause from confiding in my cousin and that there -may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to -find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in -the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you. -"FITZWILLIAM DARCY" -Chapter -If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect -it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no -expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it -may well be supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what -a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she -read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first -understand that he believed any apology to be in his power and -steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation -to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a -strong prejudice against everything he might say, she began his -account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an -eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and -from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, -was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her -eyes. His belief of her sister's insensibility she instantly -resolved to be false and his account of the real, the worst -objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of -doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done -which satisfied her his style was not penitent, but haughty. -It was all pride and insolence. -But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. -Wickhamwhen she read with somewhat clearer attention a -relation of events which, if true, must overthrow every cherished -opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to -his own history of himselfher feelings were yet more acutely -painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, -apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to -discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, "This must be false -This cannot be This must be the grossest falsehood"and -when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely -knowing anything of the last page or two, put it hastily away, -protesting that she would not regard it, that she would never -look in it again. -In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on -nothing, she walked on but it would not do in half a minute the -letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she -could, she again began the mortifying perusal of all that related -to Wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the -meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with -the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself -and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, though she had not -before known its extent, agreed equally well with his own -words. So far each recital confirmed the other but when she -came to the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had -said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled -his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross -duplicity on one side or the other and, for a few moments, she -flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But when she -read and reread with the closest attention, the particulars -immediately following of Wickham's resigning all pretensions to -the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as -three thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She -put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she -meant to be impartialitydeliberated on the probability of each -statementbut with little success. On both sides it was only -assertion. Again she read on but every line proved more clearly -that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any -contrivance could so represent as to render Mr. Darcy's conduct -in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make -him entirely blameless throughout the whole. -The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not -to lay at Mr. Wickham's charge, exceedingly shocked her the -more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had -never heard of him before his entrance into the shire Militia, -in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man -who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a -slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life nothing had been -known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real -character, had information been in her power, she had never felt -a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had -established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She -tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished -trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the -attacks of Mr. Darcy or at least, by the predominance of virtue, -atone for those casual errors under which she would endeavour -to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice -of many years' continuance. But no such recollection befriended -her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of -air and address but she could remember no more substantial -good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and -the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. -After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more -continued to read. But, alas the story which followed, of his -designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what -had passed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the -morning before and at last she was referred for the truth of -every particular to Colonel Fitzwilliam himselffrom whom she -had previously received the information of his near concern in -all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she had no reason -to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying -to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the -application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction -that Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal, if -he had not been well assured of his cousin's corroboration. -She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in -conversation between Wickham and herself, in their first evening -at Mr. Phillips's. Many of his expressions were still fresh in -her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such -communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her -before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as -he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his -conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear -of seeing Mr. Darcythat Mr. Darcy might leave the country, -but that he should stand his ground yet he had avoided the -Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also that, -till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told -his story to no one but herself but that after their removal it -had been everywhere discussed that he had then no reserves, no -scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured -her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing -the son. -How differently did everything now appear in which he was -concerned His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence -of views solely and hatefully mercenary and the mediocrity of -her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but -his eagerness to grasp at anything. His behaviour to herself -could now have had no tolerable motive he had either been -deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his -vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had -most incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour -grew fainter and fainter and in farther justification of Mr. -Darcy, she could not but allow Mr. Bingley, when questioned -by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair -that proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in -the whole course of their acquaintancean acquaintance which -had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of -intimacy with his waysseen anything that betrayed him to be -unprincipled or unjustanything that spoke him of irreligious -or immoral habits that among his own connections he was -esteemed and valuedthat even Wickham had allowed him -merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so -affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some -amiable feeling that had his actions been what Mr. Wickham -represented them, so gross a violation of everything right could -hardly have been concealed from the world and that friendship -between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. -Bingley, was incomprehensible. -She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor -Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, -partial, prejudiced, absurd. -"How despicably I have acted" she cried "I, who have prided -myself on my discernment I, who have valued myself on my -abilities who have often disdained the generous candour of my -sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust -How humiliating is this discovery Yet, how just a humiliation -Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind -But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the -preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, -on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted -prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where -either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself." -From herself to Janefrom Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were -in a line which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy's -explanation there had appeared very insufficient, and she read -it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal. -How could she deny that credit to his assertions in one instance, -which she had been obliged to give in the other? He declared -himself to be totally unsuspicious of her sister's attachment -and she could not help remembering what Charlotte's opinion -had always been. Neither could she deny the justice of his -description of Jane. She felt that Jane's feelings, though fervent, -were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency -in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility. -When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were -mentioned in terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, her -sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her -too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he -particularly alluded as having passed at the Netherfield ball, -and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have -made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers. -The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It -soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt which had -thus been selfattracted by the rest of her family and as she -considered that Jane's disappointment had in fact been the work -of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially the credit -of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt -depressed beyond anything she had ever known before. -After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to -every variety of thoughtreconsidering events, determining -probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to -a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection -of her long absence, made her at length return home and she -entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, -and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make -her unfit for conversation. -She was immediately told that the two gentlemen from Rosings -had each called during her absence Mr. Darcy, only for a few -minutes, to take leavebut that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been -sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and -almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found. -Elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing him she -really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no longer an -object she could think only of her letter. -Chapter -The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning, and Mr. -Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them -his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing -intelligence, of their appearing in very good health, and in as -tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene -so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened, -to console Lady Catherine and her daughter and on his return -brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her -ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make -her very desirous of having them all to dine with her. -Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, -had she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to -her as her future niece nor could she think, without a smile, of -what her ladyship's indignation would have been. "What would -she have said? how would she have behaved?" were questions with -which she amused herself. -Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party. -"I assure you, I feel it exceedingly," said Lady Catherine "I -believe no one feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But -I am particularly attached to these young men, and know them to -be so much attached to me They were excessively sorry to go -But so they always are. The dear Colonel rallied his spirits -tolerably till just at last but Darcy seemed to feel it most -acutely, more, I think, than last year. His attachment to -Rosings certainly increases." -Mr. Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here, -which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter. -Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed -out of spirits, and immediately accounting for it by herself, -by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon, -she added -"But if that is the case, you must write to your mother and beg -that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad -of your company, I am sure." -"I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation," -replied Elizabeth, "but it is not in my power to accept it. -I must be in town next Saturday." -"Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I -expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before -you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. -Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight." -"But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return." -"Oh your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. -Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if -you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power -to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early -in June, for a week and as Dawson does not object to the -barouchebox, there will be very good room for one of youand -indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not -object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large." -"You are all kindness, madam but I believe we must abide by -our original plan." -Lady Catherine seemed resigned. "Mrs. Collins, you must send -a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I -cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by -themselves. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send -somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort -of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and -attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece -Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her -having two menservants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter -of Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have -appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively -attentive to all those things. You must send John with the young -ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it -for it would really be discreditable to you to let them go -alone." -"My uncle is to send a servant for us." -"Oh Your uncle He keeps a manservant, does he? I am very -glad you have somebody who thinks of these things. Where -shall you change horses? Oh Bromley, of course. If you -mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to." -Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their -journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was -necessary, which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her or, with -a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. -Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours whenever she -was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief and not a -day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge -in all the delight of unpleasant recollections. -Mr. Darcy's letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by -heart. She studied every sentence and her feelings towards its -writer were at times widely different. When she remembered the -style of his address, she was still full of indignation but when -she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, -her anger was turned against herself and his disappointed -feelings became the object of compassion. His attachment -excited gratitude, his general character respect but she could -not approve him nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, -or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In -her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation -and regret and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject -of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, -contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to -restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters and her -mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely -insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently united with Jane -in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia -but while they were supported by their mother's indulgence, what -chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weakspirited, -irritable, and completely under Lydia's guidance, had been always -affronted by their advice and Lydia, selfwilled and careless, -would scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and -vain. While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt -with him and while Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they -would be going there forever. -Anxiety on Jane's behalf was another prevailing concern and -Mr. Darcy's explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former -good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His -affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct -cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness -of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the -thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so -replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had -been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family -When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham's -character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which -had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to -make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful. -Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last -week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening -was spent there and her ladyship again inquired minutely into -the particulars of their journey, gave them directions as to the -best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of -placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself -obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and -pack her trunk afresh. -When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, -wished them a good journey, and invited them to come to -Hunsford again next year and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself -so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to both. -Chapter -On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast -a few minutes before the others appeared and he took the -opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed -indispensably necessary. -"I know not, Miss Elizabeth," said he, "whether Mrs. Collins has -yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us but I -am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving -her thanks for it. The favor of your company has been much -felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt anyone -to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small -rooms and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, -must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like -yourself but I hope you will believe us grateful for the -condescension, and that we have done everything in our power -to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly." -Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. -She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment and the pleasure -of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, -must make her feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified, and -with a more smiling solemnity replied -"It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have passed your -time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best and -most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very -superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the -frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we -may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been -entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady Catherine's -family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing -which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You -see how continually we are engaged there. In truth I must -acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble -parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of -compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings." -Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings and -he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to -unite civility and truth in a few short sentences. -"You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into -Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself at least that you -will be able to do so. Lady Catherine's great attentions to Mrs. -Collins you have been a daily witness of and altogether I trust -it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunatebut -on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me -assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most -cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte -and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in -everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas -between us. We seem to have been designed for each other." -Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where -that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she -firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was -not sorry, however, to have the recital of them interrupted by -the lady from whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte it was -melancholy to leave her to such society But she had chosen it -with her eyes open and though evidently regretting that her -visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. -Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and -all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms. -At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the -parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After -an affectionate parting between the friends, Elizabeth was -attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins, and as they walked -down the garden he was commissioning her with his best -respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the -kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his -compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He -then handed her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the -point of being closed, when he suddenly reminded them, with -some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave -any message for the ladies at Rosings. -"But," he added, "you will of course wish to have your humble -respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their -kindness to you while you have been here." -Elizabeth made no objection the door was then allowed to be -shut, and the carriage drove off. -"Good gracious" cried Maria, after a few minutes' silence, "it -seems but a day or two since we first came and yet how many -things have happened" -"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh. -"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there -twice How much I shall have to tell" -Elizabeth added privately, "And how much I shall have to conceal" -Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any -alarm and within four hours of their leaving Hunsford they -reached Mr. Gardiner's house, where they were to remain a few -days. -Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of -studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the -kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go -home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough -for observation. -It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait -even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy's -proposals. To know that she had the power of revealing what -would so exceedingly astonish Jane, and must, at the same time, -so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet -been able to reason away, was such a temptation to openness -as nothing could have conquered but the state of indecision -in which she remained as to the extent of what she should -communicate and her fear, if she once entered on the subject, -of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which -might only grieve her sister further. -Chapter -It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies -set out together from Gracechurch Street for the town of , -in Hertfordshire and, as they drew near the appointed inn where -Mr. Bennet's carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived, -in token of the coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia -looking out of a diningroom upstairs. These two girls had been -above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an -opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a -salad and cucumber. -After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table -set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, -exclaiming, "Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?" -"And we mean to treat you all," added Lydia, "but you must lend -us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there." -Then, showing her purchases"Look here, I have bought this bonnet. -I do not think it is very pretty but I thought I might as well -buy it as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, -and see if I can make it up any better." -And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect -unconcern, "Oh but there were two or three much uglier in the -shop and when I have bought some prettiercoloured satin to -trim it with fresh, I think it will be very tolerable. Besides, -it will not much signify what one wears this summer, after the -shire have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight." -"Are they indeed" cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction. -"They are going to be encamped near Brighton and I do so -want papa to take us all there for the summer It would be such -a delicious scheme and I dare say would hardly cost anything at -all. Mamma would like to go too of all things Only think what -a miserable summer else we shall have" -"Yes," thought Elizabeth, "that would be a delightful scheme -indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven -Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to us, who have been -overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly -balls of Meryton" -"Now I have got some news for you," said Lydia, as they sat down -at table. "What do you think? It is excellent newscapital -newsand about a certain person we all like" -Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told -he need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said -"Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. You -thought the waiter must not hear, as if he cared I dare say he -often hears worse things said than I am going to say. But he is -an ugly fellow I am glad he is gone. I never saw such a long -chin in my life. Well, but now for my news it is about dear -Wickham too good for the waiter, is it not? There is no danger -of Wickham's marrying Mary King. There's for you She is gone -down to her uncle at Liverpool gone to stay. Wickham is safe." -"And Mary King is safe" added Elizabeth "safe from a -connection imprudent as to fortune." -"She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him." -"But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side," -said Jane. -"I am sure there is not on his. I will answer for it, he never -cared three straws about herwho could about such a nasty -little freckled thing?" -Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of -such coarseness of expression herself, the coarseness of the -sentiment was little other than her own breast had harboured -and fancied liberal -As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was -ordered and after some contrivance, the whole party, with all -their boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition -of Kitty's and Lydia's purchases, were seated in it. -"How nicely we are all crammed in," cried Lydia. "I am glad I -bought my bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another -bandbox Well, now let us be quite comfortable and snug, and -talk and laugh all the way home. And in the first place, let -us hear what has happened to you all since you went away. Have -you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any flirting? I was -in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband before -you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. -She is almost threeandtwenty Lord, how ashamed I should be of -not being married before threeandtwenty My aunt Phillips wants -you so to get husbands, you can't think. She says Lizzy had -better have taken Mr. Collins but I do not think there would -have been any fun in it. Lord how I should like to be married -before any of you and then I would chaperon you about to all -the balls. Dear me we had such a good piece of fun the other -day at Colonel Forster's. Kitty and me were to spend the day -there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the -evening by the bye, Mrs. Forster and me are such friends and -so she asked the two Harringtons to come, but Harriet was ill, -and so Pen was forced to come by herself and then, what do you -think we did? We dressed up Chamberlayne in woman's clothes on -purpose to pass for a lady, only think what fun Not a soul -knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs. Forster, and Kitty and me, -except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns -and you cannot imagine how well he looked When Denny, and -Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, -they did not know him in the least. Lord how I laughed and -so did Mrs. Forster. I thought I should have died. And that -made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out -what was the matter." -With such kinds of histories of their parties and good jokes, did -Lydia, assisted by Kitty's hints and additions, endeavour to -amuse her companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth -listened as little as she could, but there was no escaping the -frequent mention of Wickham's name. -Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to -see Jane in undiminished beauty and more than once during -dinner did Mr. Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth -"I am glad you are come back, Lizzy." -Their party in the diningroom was large, for almost all the -Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news and various -were the subjects that occupied them Lady Lucas was inquiring -of Maria, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter -Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an -account of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way -below her, and, on the other, retailing them all to the younger -Lucases and Lydia, in a voice rather louder than any other -person's, was enumerating the various pleasures of the morning -to anybody who would hear her. -"Oh Mary," said she, "I wish you had gone with us, for we had -such fun As we went along, Kitty and I drew up the blinds, -and pretended there was nobody in the coach and I should have -gone so all the way, if Kitty had not been sick and when we got -to the George, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for we -treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon in the -world, and if you would have gone, we would have treated you -too. And then when we came away it was such fun I thought -we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die -of laughter. And then we were so merry all the way home we -talked and laughed so loud, that anybody might have heard us -ten miles off" -To this Mary very gravely replied, "Far be it from me, my dear -sister, to depreciate such pleasures They would doubtless be -congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess -they would have no charms for meI should infinitely prefer a -book." -But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened -to anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to -Mary at all. -In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls -to walk to Meryton, and to see how everybody went on but -Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It should not be said -that the Miss Bennets could not be at home half a day before -they were in pursuit of the officers. There was another reason -too for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Mr. Wickham again, -and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort -to her of the regiment's approaching removal was indeed beyond -expression. In a fortnight they were to goand once gone, she -hoped there could be nothing more to plague her on his account. -She had not been many hours at home before she found that the -Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, -was under frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth -saw directly that her father had not the smallest intention of -yielding but his answers were at the same time so vague and -equivocal, that her mother, though often disheartened, had never -yet despaired of succeeding at last. -Chapter -Elizabeth's impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened -could no longer be overcome and at length, resolving to -suppress every particular in which her sister was concerned, -and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her the next -morning the chief of the scene between Mr. Darcy and herself. -Miss Bennet's astonishment was soon lessened by the strong -sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear -perfectly natural and all surprise was shortly lost in other -feelings. She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his -sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them but -still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister's -refusal must have given him. -"His being so sure of succeeding was wrong," said she, "and -certainly ought not to have appeared but consider how much it -must increase his disappointment" -"Indeed," replied Elizabeth, "I am heartily sorry for him but he -has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his -regard for me. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?" -"Blame you Oh, no." -"But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?" -"NoI do not know that you were wrong in saying what you -did." -"But you will know it, when I tell you what happened the very -next day." -She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents -as far as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was -this for poor Jane who would willingly have gone through the -world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the -whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. -Nor was Darcy's vindication, though grateful to her feelings, -capable of consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did -she labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear the -one without involving the other. -"This will not do," said Elizabeth "you never will be able to -make both of them good for anything. Take your choice, but -you must be satisfied with only one. There is but such a quantity -of merit between them just enough to make one good sort of -man and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For my -part, I am inclined to believe it all Darcy's but you shall do -as you choose." -It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted -from Jane. -"I do not know when I have been more shocked," said she. -"Wickham so very bad It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. -Darcy Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. -Such a disappointment and with the knowledge of your ill -opinion, too and having to relate such a thing of his sister -It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so." -"Oh no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing -you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, -that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. -Your profusion makes me saving and if you lament over him much -longer, my heart will be as light as a feather." -"Poor Wickham there is such an expression of goodness in his -countenance such an openness and gentleness in his manner" -"There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education -of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the -other all the appearance of it." -"I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance -of it as you used to do." -"And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided -a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one's -genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. -One may be continually abusive without saying anything just but -one cannot always be laughing at a man without now and then -stumbling on something witty." -"Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not -treat the matter as you do now." -"Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I may say -unhappy. And with no one to speak to about what I felt, no -Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and -vain and nonsensical as I knew I had Oh how I wanted you" -"How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong -expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they -do appear wholly undeserved." -"Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness -is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been -encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice. -I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our -acquaintances in general understand Wickham's character." -Miss Bennet paused a little, and then replied, "Surely there can -be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your -opinion?" -"That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not -authorised me to make his communication public. On the -contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to -be kept as much as possible to myself and if I endeavour to -undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will believe -me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that -it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to -attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it. -Wickham will soon be gone and therefore it will not signify to -anyone here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all -found out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not -knowing it before. At present I will say nothing about it." -"You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin -him for ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, -and anxious to reestablish a character. We must not make him -desperate." -The tumult of Elizabeth's mind was allayed by this conversation. -She had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her -for a fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, -whenever she might wish to talk again of either. But there was -still something lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the -disclosure. She dared not relate the other half of Mr. Darcy's -letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been -valued by her friend. Here was knowledge in which no one -could partake and she was sensible that nothing less than a -perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in -throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. "And then," said -she, "if that very improbable event should ever take place, I -shall merely be able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more -agreeable manner himself. The liberty of communication cannot -be mine till it has lost all its value" -She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the -real state of her sister's spirits. Jane was not happy. She still -cherished a very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even -fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of -first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, greater -steadiness than most first attachments often boast and so -fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every -other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the -feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of -those regrets which must have been injurious to her own health -and their tranquillity. -"Well, Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet one day, "what is your opinion -now of this sad business of Jane's? For my part, I am -determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I told my -sister Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane -saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a very undeserving -young manand I do not suppose there's the least chance in the -world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his -coming to Netherfield again in the summer and I have inquired -of everybody, too, who is likely to know." -"I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield any more." -"Oh well it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. -Though I shall always say he used my daughter extremely ill and -if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort -is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart and then he will -be sorry for what he has done." -But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such -expectation, she made no answer. -"Well, Lizzy," continued her mother, soon afterwards, "and so -the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only -hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte -is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as -her mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in -their housekeeping, I dare say." -"No, nothing at all." -"A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. -they will take care not to outrun their income. They will -never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do -them And so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn -when your father is dead. They look upon it as quite their own, -I dare say, whenever that happens." -"It was a subject which they could not mention before me." -"No it would have been strange if they had but I make no -doubt they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they -can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so -much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was -only entailed on me." -Chapter -The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. -It was the last of the regiment's stay in Meryton, and all the -young ladies in the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The -dejection was almost universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone -were still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual -course of their employments. Very frequently were they -reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose -own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such -hardheartedness in any of the family. -"Good Heaven what is to become of us? What are we to do?" -would they often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. "How can -you be smiling so, Lizzy?" -Their affectionate mother shared all their grief she remembered -what she had herself endured on a similar occasion, fiveandtwenty -years ago. -"I am sure," said she, "I cried for two days together when -Colonel Miller's regiment went away. I thought I should have -broken my heart." -"I am sure I shall break mine," said Lydia. -"If one could but go to Brighton" observed Mrs. Bennet. -"Oh, yesif one could but go to Brighton But papa is so -disagreeable." -"A little seabathing would set me up forever." -"And my aunt Phillips is sure it would do me a great deal of -good," added Kitty. -Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually -through Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by -them but all sense of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew -the justice of Mr. Darcy's objections and never had she been so -much disposed to pardon his interference in the views of his -friend. -But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly cleared away for -she received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the -colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This -invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately -married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had -recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of their -three months' acquaintance they had been intimate two. -The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. -Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of -Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her -sister's feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless ecstasy, -calling for everyone's congratulations, and laughing and talking -with more violence than ever whilst the luckless Kitty continued -in the parlour repined at her fate in terms as unreasonable as her -accent was peevish. -"I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as -Lydia," said she, "Though I am not her particular friend. I -have just as much right to be asked as she has, and more too, -for I am two years older." -In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane -to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation -was so far from exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother -and Lydia, that she considered it as the death warrant of all -possibility of common sense for the latter and detestable as such -a step must make her were it known, she could not help secretly -advising her father not to let her go. She represented to him all -the improprieties of Lydia's general behaviour, the little -advantage she could derive from the friendship of such a woman -as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more -imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the -temptations must be greater than at home. He heard her -attentively, and then said -"Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some -public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with -so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the -present circumstances." -"If you were aware," said Elizabeth, "of the very great -disadvantage to us all which must arise from the public notice -of Lydia's unguarded and imprudent mannernay, which has -already arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differently in -the affair." -"Already arisen?" repeated Mr. Bennet. "What, has she -frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy But do -not be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be -connected with a little absurdity are not worth a regret. Come, -let me see the list of pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof -by Lydia's folly." -"Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. -It is not of particular, but of general evils, which I am now -complaining. Our importance, our respectability in the world must -be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of -all restraint which mark Lydia's character. Excuse me, for I must -speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble -of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her -present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will -soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be -fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that -ever made herself or her family ridiculous a flirt, too, in the -worst and meanest degree of flirtation without any attraction -beyond youth and a tolerable person and, from the ignorance and -emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of -that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. -In this danger Kitty also is comprehended. She will follow wherever -Lydia leads. Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled -Oh my dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not -be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their -sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?" -Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject, and -affectionately taking her hand said in reply -"Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane -are known you must be respected and valued and you will not -appear to less advantage for having a couple ofor I may say, -threevery silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn -if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel -Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real -mischief and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey -to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance even as -a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find -women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that -her being there may teach her her own insignificance. At any -rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorising -us to lock her up for the rest of her life." -With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content but her -own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed -and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to increase her -vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having -performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or -augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition. -Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference -with her father, their indignation would hardly have found -expression in their united volubility. In Lydia's imagination, -a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly -happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets -of that gay bathingplace covered with officers. She saw -herself the object of attention, to tens and to scores of them -at present unknown. She saw all the glories of the campits -tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded -with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet and, to -complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly -flirting with at least six officers at once. -Had she known her sister sought to tear her from such prospects -and such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? -They could have been understood only by her mother, who might -have felt nearly the same. Lydia's going to Brighton was all -that consoled her for her melancholy conviction of her husband's -never intending to go there himself. -But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed and their -raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of -Lydia's leaving home. -Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. -Having been frequently in company with him since her return, -agitation was pretty well over the agitations of formal partiality -entirely so. She had even learnt to detect, in the very gentleness -which had first delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to -disgust and weary. In his present behaviour to herself, -moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure, for the -inclination he soon testified of renewing those intentions which -had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, -after what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern -for him in finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle -and frivolous gallantry and while she steadily repressed it, could -not but feel the reproof contained in his believing, that however -long, and for whatever cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, -her vanity would be gratified, and her preference secured at any -time by their renewal. -On the very last day of the regiment's remaining at Meryton, he -dined, with other of the officers, at Longbourn and so little -was Elizabeth disposed to part from him in good humour, that on -his making some inquiry as to the manner in which her time had -passed at Hunsford, she mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam's and -Mr. Darcy's having both spent three weeks at Rosings, and -asked him, if he was acquainted with the former. -He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed but with a moment's -recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly -seen him often and, after observing that he was a very -gentlemanlike man, asked her how she had liked him. Her -answer was warmly in his favour. With an air of indifference he -soon afterwards added -"How long did you say he was at Rosings?" -"Nearly three weeks." -"And you saw him frequently?" -"Yes, almost every day." -"His manners are very different from his cousin's." -"Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon -acquaintance." -"Indeed" cried Mr. Wickham with a look which did not escape -her. "And pray, may I ask?" But checking himself, he added, -in a gayer tone, "Is it in address that he improves? Has he -deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style?for I -dare not hope," he continued in a lower and more serious tone, -"that he is improved in essentials." -"Oh, no" said Elizabeth. "In essentials, I believe, he is very -much what he ever was." -While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing -whether to rejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning. -There was a something in her countenance which made him listen -with an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added -"When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean -that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but -that, from knowing him better, his disposition was better -understood." -Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and -agitated look for a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking -off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the -gentlest of accents -"You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy, will -readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is -wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right. -His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, -to many others, for it must only deter him from such foul -misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that the sort of -cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is -merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion -and judgement he stands much in awe. His fear of her has -always operated, I know, when they were together and a good -deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with -Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he has very much at heart." -Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only -by a slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to -engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in -no humour to indulge him. The rest of the evening passed with -the appearance, on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with -no further attempt to distinguish Elizabeth and they parted at -last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never -meeting again. -When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to -Meryton, from whence they were to set out early the next -morning. The separation between her and her family was rather -noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the only one who shed tears but -she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. Bennet was diffuse -in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, and -impressive in her injunctions that she should not miss the -opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possibleadvice -which there was every reason to believe would be well attended -to and in the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding -farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered -without being heard. -Chapter -Had Elizabeth's opinion been all drawn from her own family, -she could not have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal -felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth -and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth -and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak -understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their marriage -put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and -confidence had vanished for ever and all his views of domestic -happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a -disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his -own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which -too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. -He was fond of the country and of books and from these tastes had -arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little -otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had -contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness -which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife but -where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true -philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given. -Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of -her father's behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with -pain but respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate -treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could -not overlook, and to banish from her thoughts that continual -breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing -his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly -reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the -disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a -marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from -so illjudged a direction of talents talents, which, rightly used, -might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, -even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife. -When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham's departure she -found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the -regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than before, and -at home she had a mother and sister whose constant repinings at -the dullness of everything around them threw a real gloom over -their domestic circle and, though Kitty might in time regain her -natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were -removed, her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil -might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her -folly and assurance by a situation of such double danger as a -wateringplace and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she -found, what has been sometimes found before, that an event -to which she had been looking with impatient desire did not, -in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised -herself. It was consequently necessary to name some other -period for the commencement of actual felicityto have some -other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and -by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for -the present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour -to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts it was -her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the -discontentedness of her mother and Kitty made inevitable and -could she have included Jane in the scheme, every part of it -would have been perfect. -"But it is fortunate," thought she, "that I have something to wish -for. Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment -would be certain. But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless -source of regret in my sister's absence, I may reasonably hope to -have all my expectations of pleasure realised. A scheme of -which every part promises delight can never be successful and -general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of -some little peculiar vexation." -When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and -very minutely to her mother and Kitty but her letters were -always long expected, and always very short. Those to her -mother contained little else than that they were just returned -from the library, where such and such officers had attended -them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made -her quite wild that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which -she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave -off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were -going off to the camp and from her correspondence with her -sister, there was still less to be learntfor her letters to -Kitty, though rather longer, were much too full of lines under the -words to be made public. -After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, -good humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. -Everything wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in -town for the winter came back again, and summer finery and -summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet was restored to her -usual querulous serenity and, by the middle of June, Kitty was -so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton without tears -an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that -by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable -as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by some -cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another -regiment should be quartered in Meryton. -The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now -fast approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when -a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its -commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be -prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in -July, and must be in London again within a month, and as that -left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much -as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and -comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the -Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according -to the present plan, were to go no farther northwards than -Derbyshire. In that county there was enough to be seen to -occupy the chief of their three weeks and to Mrs. Gardiner it -had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had -formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now -to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her -curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, -Dovedale, or the Peak. -Elizabeth was excessively disappointed she had set her heart on -seeing the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time -enough. But it was her business to be satisfiedand certainly -her temper to be happy and all was soon right again. -With the mention of Derbyshire there were many ideas connected. -It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of -Pemberley and its owner. "But surely," said she, "I may enter -his county without impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars -without his perceiving me." -The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to -pass away before her uncle and aunt's arrival. But they did pass -away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did -at length appear at Longbourn. The children, two girls of six -and eight years old, and two younger boys, were to be left under -the particular care of their cousin Jane, who was the general -favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly -adapted her for attending to them in every wayteaching them, -playing with them, and loving them. -The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off -the next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and -amusement. One enjoyment was certainthat of suitableness -of companions a suitableness which comprehended health and -temper to bear inconveniencescheerfulness to enhance every -pleasureand affection and intelligence, which might supply -it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad. -It is not the object of this work to give a description of -Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through which -their route thither lay Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, -Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently known. A small part of -Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the little town of -Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner's former residence, and -where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained, -they bent their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders -of the country and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth -found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in -their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In -talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner -expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner -declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her -approbation. -"My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have -heard so much?" said her aunt "a place, too, with which so -many of your acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all -his youth there, you know." -Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at -Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing -it. She must own that she was tired of seeing great houses after -going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or -satin curtains. -Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. "If it were merely a fine -house richly furnished," said she, "I should not care about it -myself but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the -finest woods in the country." -Elizabeth said no morebut her mind could not acquiesce. -The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, -instantly occurred. It would be dreadful She blushed at the -very idea, and thought it would be better to speak openly to -her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were -objections and she finally resolved that it could be the last -resource, if her private inquiries to the absence of the family -were unfavourably answered. -Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid -whether Pemberley were not a very fine place? what was the name -of its proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the family -were down for the summer? A most welcome negative followed the -last questionand her alarms now being removed, she was at -leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself -and when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was -again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of -indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. -To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go. -Chapter -Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance -of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation and when at -length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high -flutter. -The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. -They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some -time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent. -Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and -admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They -gradually ascended for halfamile, and then found themselves -at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, -and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated -on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some -abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, -standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high -woody hills and in front, a stream of some natural importance -was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. -Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth -was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature -had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little -counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm -in their admiration and at that moment she felt that to be -mistress of Pemberley might be something -They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the -door and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all -her apprehension of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded -lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see -the place, they were admitted into the hall and Elizabeth, as -they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her -being where she was. -The housekeeper came a respectablelooking elderly woman, -much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of -finding her. They followed her into the diningparlour. -It was a large, well proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. -Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy -its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they had -descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, -was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was -good and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees -scattered on its banks and the winding of the valley, as far as -she could trace it, with delight. As they passed into other -rooms these objects were taking different positions but from -every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were -lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune -of its proprietor but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, -that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine with less of -splendour, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings. -"And of this place," thought she, "I might have been mistress -With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted -Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced -in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle -and aunt. But no,"recollecting herself"that could never -be my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me I should not -have been allowed to invite them." -This was a lucky recollectionit saved her from something -very like regret. -She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master -was really absent, but had not the courage for it. At length -however, the question was asked by her uncle and she turned -away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, -adding, "But we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of -friends." How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey -had not by any circumstance been delayed a day -Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached -and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst -several other miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked -her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, -and told them it was a picture of a young gentleman, the son of -her late master's steward, who had been brought up by him at -his own expense. "He is now gone into the army," she added -"but I am afraid he has turned out very wild." -Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth -could not return it. -"And that," said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the -miniatures, "is my masterand very like him. It was drawn at -the same time as the otherabout eight years ago." -"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs. -Gardiner, looking at the picture "it is a handsome face. -But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not." -Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this -intimation of her knowing her master. -"Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?" -Elizabeth coloured, and said "A little." -"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?" -"Yes, very handsome." -"I am sure I know none so handsome but in the gallery -upstairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. -This room was my late master's favourite room, and these -miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond -of them." -This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham's being among them. -Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, -drawn when she was only eight years old. -"And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?" said Mrs. Gardiner. -"Oh yesthe handsomest young lady that ever was seen and -so accomplishedShe plays and sings all day long. In the next -room is a new instrument just come down for hera present -from my master she comes here tomorrow with him." -Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, -encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks -Mrs. Reynolds, either by pride or attachment, had evidently -great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister. -"Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?" -"Not so much as I could wish, sir but I dare say he may spend -half his time here and Miss Darcy is always down for the -summer months." -"Except," thought Elizabeth, "when she goes to Ramsgate." -"If your master would marry, you might see more of him." -"Yes, sir but I do not know when that will be. I do not -know who is good enough for him." -Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, -"It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think -so." -"I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that -knows him," replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was -going pretty far and she listened with increasing astonishment -as the housekeeper added, "I have never known a cross word -from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was -four years old." -This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite -to her ideas. That he was not a goodtempered man had been -her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened she -longed to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for saying -"There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You -are lucky in having such a master." -"Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I -could not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that -they who are goodnatured when children, are goodnatured -when they grow up and he was always the sweetesttempered, -most generoushearted boy in the world." -Elizabeth almost stared at her. "Can this be Mr. Darcy?" -thought she. -"His father was an excellent man," said Mrs. Gardiner. -"Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed and his son will be just like -himjust as affable to the poor." -Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for -more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She -related the subjects of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, -and the price of the furniture, in vain, Mr. Gardiner, highly -amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed -her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to -the subject and she dwelt with energy on his many merits as -they proceeded together up the great staircase. -"He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that -ever lived not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of -nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or -servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him -proud but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it -is only because he does not rattle away like other young men." -"In what an amiable light does this place him" thought -Elizabeth. -"This fine account of him," whispered her aunt as they walked, -"is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend." -"Perhaps we might be deceived." -"That is not very likely our authority was too good." -On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a -very pretty sittingroom, lately fitted up with greater elegance -and lightness than the apartments below and were informed that -it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had -taken a liking to the room when last at Pemberley. -"He is certainly a good brother," said Elizabeth, as she walked -towards one of the windows. -Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's delight, when she -should enter the room. "And this is always the way with him," -she added. "Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure -to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for -her." -The picturegallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, -were all that remained to be shown. In the former were many -good paintings but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art and from -such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned -to look at some drawings of Miss Darcy's, in crayons, whose -subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible. -In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could -have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked -in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. -At last it arrested herand she beheld a striking resemblance -to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered -to have sometimes seen when he looked at her. She stood -several minutes before the picture, in earnest contemplation, -and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs. -Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father's -lifetime. -There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more -gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at -the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed -on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise -is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a -brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people's -happiness were in his guardianshiphow much of pleasure or -pain was it in his power to bestowhow much of good or evil -must be done by him Every idea that had been brought forward -by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she -stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed -his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper -sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before she -remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of -expression. -When all of the house that was open to general inspection had -been seen, they returned downstairs, and, taking leave of the -housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met -them at the halldoor. -As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth -turned back to look again her uncle and aunt stopped also, and -while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, -the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, -which led behind it to the stables. -They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was -his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their -eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread with -the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment -seemed immovable from surprise but shortly recovering himself, -advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in -terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility. -She had instinctively turned away but stopping on his approach, -received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to -be overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to -the picture they had just been examining, been insufficient -to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the -gardener's expression of surprise, on beholding his master, -must immediately have told it. They stood a little aloof while -he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, -scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what -answer she returned to his civil inquiries after her family. -Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted, -every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment -and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there -recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued -were some of the most uncomfortable in her life. Nor did he -seem much more at ease when he spoke, his accent had none of -its usual sedateness and he repeated his inquiries as to the -time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in -Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke -the distraction of his thoughts. -At length every idea seemed to fail him and, after standing a -few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected -himself, and took leave. -The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his -figure but Elizabeth heard not a word, and wholly engrossed -by her own feelings, followed them in silence. She was -overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was -the most unfortunate, the most illjudged thing in the world -How strange it must appear to him In what a disgraceful light -might it not strike so vain a man It might seem as if she -had purposely thrown herself in his way again Oh why did she -come? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? -Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been -beyond the reach of his discrimination for it was plain that -he was that moment arrivedthat moment alighted from his -horse or his carriage. She blushed again and again over the -perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly -alteredwhat could it mean? That he should even speak to her -was amazingbut to speak with such civility, to inquire after -her family Never in her life had she seen his manners so little -dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this -unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last -address in Rosings Park, when he put his letter into her hand -She knew not what to think, or how to account for it. -They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, -and every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or -a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching but -it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it -and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals -of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such -objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of -the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of -Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then -was. She longed to know what at the moment was passing in -his mindin what manner he thought of her, and whether, in -defiance of everything, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he -had been civil only because he felt himself at ease yet there -had been that in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he -had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her she could -not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure. -At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her -absence of mind aroused her, and she felt the necessity of -appearing more like herself. -They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a -while, ascended some of the higher grounds when, in spots where -the opening of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many -charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, with the long -range of woods overspreading many, and occasionally part of the -stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the whole -park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant -smile they were told that it was ten miles round. It settled the -matter and they pursued the accustomed circuit which brought -them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods, -to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. They -crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air -of the scene it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet -visited and the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed -room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough -coppicewood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its -windings but when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived -their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a -great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning -to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore, -obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house on -the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction but -their progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to -indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much -engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in -the water, and talking to the man about them, that he advanced -but little. Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were -again surprised, and Elizabeth's astonishment was quite equal to -what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching -them, and at no great distance. The walk here being here less -sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before -they met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more -prepared for an interview than before, and resolved to appear -and to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them. -For a few moments, indeed, she felt that he would probably strike -into some other path. The idea lasted while a turning in the -walk concealed him from their view the turning past, he was -immediately before them. With a glance, she saw that he had lost -none of his recent civility and, to imitate his politeness, she -began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place but she -had not got beyond the words "delightful," and "charming," when -some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise -of Pemberley from her might be mischievously construed. Her -colour changed, and she said no more. -Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind and on her pausing, -he asked her if she would do him the honour of introducing him -to her friends. This was a stroke of civility for which she -was quite unprepared and she could hardly suppress a smile at -his being now seeking the acquaintance of some of those very -people against whom his pride had revolted in his offer to -herself. "What will be his surprise," thought she, "when he -knows who they are? He takes them now for people of fashion." -The introduction, however, was immediately made and as she -named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at -him, to see how he bore it, and was not without the expectation -of his decamping as fast as he could from such disgraceful -companions. That he was surprised by the connection was -evident he sustained it, however, with fortitude, and so far -from going away, turned his back with them, and entered into -conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be -pleased, could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should -know she had some relations for whom there was no need to -blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between -them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her -uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good -manners. -The conversation soon turned upon fishing and she heard Mr. -Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often -as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering -at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing -out those parts of the stream where there was usually most -sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was walking arminarm with -Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of wonder. Elizabeth -said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly the compliment -must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was -extreme, and continually was she repeating, "Why is he so -altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for meit -cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My -reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. -It is impossible that he should still love me." -After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, -the two gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after -descending to the brink of the river for the better inspection of -some curious waterplant, there chanced to be a little alteration. -It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of -the morning, found Elizabeth's arm inadequate to her support, and -consequently preferred her husband's. Mr. Darcy took her place -by her niece, and they walked on together. After a short silence, -the lady first spoke. She wished him to know that she had -been assured of his absence before she came to the place, and -accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been very -unexpected"for your housekeeper," she added, "informed us that -you would certainly not be here till tomorrow and indeed, before -we left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately -expected in the country." He acknowledged the truth of it all, -and said that business with his steward had occasioned his coming -forward a few hours before the rest of the party with whom he -had been travelling. "They will join me early tomorrow," he -continued, "and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance -with youMr. Bingley and his sisters." -Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were -instantly driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley's name had -been the last mentioned between them and, if she might judge -by his complexion, his mind was not very differently engaged. -"There is also one other person in the party," he continued after -a pause, "who more particularly wishes to be known to you. -Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister -to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?" -The surprise of such an application was great indeed it was too -great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She -immediately felt that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of -being acquainted with her must be the work of her brother, and, -without looking farther, it was satisfactory it was gratifying to -know that his resentment had not made him think really ill of her. -They now walked on in silence, each of them deep in thought. -Elizabeth was not comfortable that was impossible but she was -flattered and pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her -was a compliment of the highest kind. They soon outstripped the -others, and when they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. -Gardiner were half a quarter of a mile behind. -He then asked her to walk into the housebut she declared -herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At -such a time much might have been said, and silence was very -awkward. She wanted to talk, but there seemed to be an -embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that she had -been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dove Dale with -great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowlyand -her patience and her ideas were nearly worn our before the -teteatete was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's coming up -they were all pressed to go into the house and take some -refreshment but this was declined, and they parted on each -side with utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the ladies into -the carriage and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking -slowly towards the house. -The observations of her uncle and aunt now began and each of -them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they -had expected. "He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and -unassuming," said her uncle. -"There is something a little stately in him, to be sure," replied -her aunt, "but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. -I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may -call him proud, I have seen nothing of it." -"I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was -more than civil it was really attentive and there was no -necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth -was very trifling." -"To be sure, Lizzy," said her aunt, "he is not so handsome as -Wickham or, rather, he has not Wickham's countenance, for -his features are perfectly good. But how came you to tell me -that he was so disagreeable?" -Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could said that she had -liked him better when they had met in Kent than before, and that -she had never seen him so pleasant as this morning. -"But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities," -replied her uncle. "Your great men often are and therefore I -shall not take him at his word, as he might change his mind -another day, and warn me off his grounds." -Elizabeth felt that they had entirely misunderstood his character, -but said nothing. -"From what we have seen of him," continued Mrs. Gardiner, "I -really should not have thought that he could have behaved in so -cruel a way by anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He -has not an illnatured look. On the contrary, there is something -pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. And there is something -of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an -unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the good lady -who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character -I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a -liberal master, I suppose, and that in the eye of a servant -comprehends every virtue." -Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in -vindication of his behaviour to Wickham and therefore gave -them to understand, in as guarded a manner as she could, that -by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions -were capable of a very different construction and that his -character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham's so amiable, -as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation -of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary -transactions in which they had been connected, without actually -naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be -relied on. -Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned but as they were -now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea -gave way to the charm of recollection and she was too much -engaged in pointing out to her husband all the interesting spots -in its environs to think of anything else. Fatigued as she had -been by the morning's walk they had no sooner dined than she -set off again in quest of her former acquaintance, and the -evening was spent in the satisfactions of a intercourse renewed -after many years' discontinuance. -The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave -Elizabeth much attention for any of these new friends and she -could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. -Darcy's civility, and, above all, of his wishing her to be -acquainted with his sister. -Chapter -Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister -to visit her the very day after her reaching Pemberley and was -consequently resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole -of that morning. But her conclusion was false for on the very -morning after their arrival at Lambton, these visitors came. -They had been walking about the place with some of their new -friends, and were just returning to the inn to dress themselves -for dining with the same family, when the sound of a carriage -drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and a lady -in a curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth immediately -recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no -small degree of her surprise to her relations by acquainting -them with the honour which she expected. Her uncle and aunt -were all amazement and the embarrassment of her manner as -she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many of the -circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea -on the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they -felt that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions -from such a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their -niece. While these newlyborn notions were passing in their heads, -the perturbation of Elizabeth's feelings was at every moment -increasing. She was quite amazed at her own discomposure but -amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded lest the partiality -of the brother should have said too much in her favour and, more -than commonly anxious to please, she naturally suspected that -every power of pleasing would fail her. -She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen and as -she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose -herself, saw such looks of inquiring surprise in her uncle and -aunt as made everything worse. -Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable -introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see -that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as -herself. Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss -Darcy was exceedingly proud but the observation of a very few -minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy. She -found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a -monosyllable. -Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth -and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, -and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome -than her brother but there was sense and good humour in her -face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. -Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and -unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was -much relieved by discerning such different feelings. -They had not long been together before Mr. Darcy told her that -Bingley was also coming to wait on her and she had barely time -to express her satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when -Bingley's quick step was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he -entered the room. All Elizabeth's anger against him had been -long done away but had she still felt any, it could hardly have -stood its ground against the unaffected cordiality with which he -expressed himself on seeing her again. He inquired in a friendly, -though general way, after her family, and looked and spoke with -the same goodhumoured ease that he had ever done. -To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting -personage than to herself. They had long wished to see him. -The whole party before them, indeed, excited a lively attention. -The suspicions which had just arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece -directed their observation towards each with an earnest though -guarded inquiry and they soon drew from those inquiries the full -conviction that one of them at least knew what it was to love. -Of the lady's sensations they remained a little in doubt but that -the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was evident enough. -Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to -ascertain the feelings of each of her visitors she wanted to -compose her own, and to make herself agreeable to all and in -the latter object, where she feared most to fail, she was most -sure of success, for those to whom she endeavoured to give -pleasure were prepossessed in her favour. Bingley was ready, -Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be pleased. -In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister -and, oh how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were -directed in a like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he -talked less than on former occasions, and once or twice pleased -herself with the notion that, as he looked at her, he was trying -to trace a resemblance. But, though this might be imaginary, -she could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who -had been set up as a rival to Jane. No look appeared on either -side that spoke particular regard. Nothing occurred between -them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On this point -she was soon satisfied and two or three little circumstances -occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, -denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, -and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her, -had he dared. He observed to her, at a moment when the others -were talking together, and in a tone which had something of real -regret, that it "was a very long time since he had had the -pleasure of seeing her" and, before she could reply, he added, -"It is above eight months. We have not met since the th of -November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield." -Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact and he -afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by -any of the rest, whether all her sisters were at Longbourn. -There was not much in the question, nor in the preceding -remark but there was a look and a manner which gave them -meaning. -It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy -himself but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an -expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said -she heard an accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of his -companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners -which she had yesterday witnessed however temporary its -existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she -saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good -opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago -would have been a disgracewhen she saw him thus civil, not -only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly -disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford -Parsonagethe difference, the change was so great, and struck -so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her -astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company -of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations -at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free -from selfconsequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no -importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and -when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions -were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of -the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings. -Their visitors stayed with them above halfanhour and when -they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him -in expressing their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and -Miss Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the -country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked -her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed. -Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how she, -whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its -acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming -however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary -embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in -her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to -accept it, she ventured to engage for her attendance, and the -day after the next was fixed on. -Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing -Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many -inquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, -construing all this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, -was pleased, and on this account, as well as some others, found -herself, when their visitors left them, capable of considering -the last halfhour with some satisfaction, though while it was -passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone, -and fearful of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she -stayed with them only long enough to hear their favourable -opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress. -But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's curiosity -it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident -that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they -had before any idea of it was evident that he was very much in -love with her. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify -inquiry. -Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well and, -as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. -They could not be untouched by his politeness and had they -drawn his character from their own feelings and his servant's -report, without any reference to any other account, the circle -in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognized -it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest, however, in -believing the housekeeper and they soon became sensible that -the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four -years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was -not to be hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in -the intelligence of their Lambton friends that could materially -lessen its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of but pride -pride he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed -by the inhabitants of a small markettown where the family did -not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal -man, and did much good among the poor. -With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was -not held there in much estimation for though the chief of his -concerns with the son of his patron were imperfectly understood, -it was yet a wellknown fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, -he had left many debts behind him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards -discharged. -As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening -more than the last and the evening, though as it passed it -seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings -towards one in that mansion and she lay awake two whole -hours endeavouring to make them out. She certainly did not -hate him. No hatred had vanished long ago, and she had -almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against -him, that could be so called. The respect created by the -conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly -admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her -feeling and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier -nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing -forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday -had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there -was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be -overlooked. It was gratitude gratitude, not merely for having -once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive -all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and -all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, -she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, -seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the -acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or -any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were -concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, -and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change -in a man of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but -gratitudefor to love, ardent love, it must be attributed and -as such its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as -by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. -She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt -a real interest in his welfare and she only wanted to know how -far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far -it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the -power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing -on her the renewal of his addresses. -It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the -niece, that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy's in coming to -see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she -had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated, -though it could not be equalled, by some exertion of politeness -on their side and, consequently, that it would be highly -expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning. -They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased though -when she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in -reply. -Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme -had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement -made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before -noon. -Chapter -Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley's dislike of -her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how -unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and -was curious to know with how much civility on that lady's side -the acquaintance would now be renewed. -On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into -the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for -summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most -refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, -and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were -scattered over the intermediate lawn. -In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was -sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady -with whom she lived in London. Georgiana's reception of them -was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which, -though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, -would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the -belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her -niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her. -By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a -curtsey and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such -pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was -first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeablelooking -woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse -proved her to be more truly wellbred than either of the others -and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from -Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked -as if she wished for courage enough to join in it and sometimes -did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its -being heard. -Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss -Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss -Darcy, without calling her attention. This observation would not -have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they -not been seated at an inconvenient distance but she was not sorry -to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts -were employing her. She expected every moment that some of the -gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared that -the master of the house might be amongst them and whether -she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. -After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing -Miss Bingley's voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from -her a cold inquiry after the health of her family. She answered -with equal indifference and brevity, and the others said no more. -The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by -the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of -all the finest fruits in season but this did not take place till -after many a significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to -Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her post. There was -now employment for the whole partyfor though they could not all -talk, they could all eat and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, -nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table. -While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding -whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. -Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room -and then, though but a moment before she had believed her -wishes to predominate, she began to regret that he came. -He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or -three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, -and had left him only on learning that the ladies of the family -intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he -appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and -unembarrassed a resolution the more necessary to be made, but -perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the -suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, and -that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his -behaviour when he first came into the room. In no countenance -was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley's, -in spite of the smiles which overspread her face whenever she -spoke to one of its objects for jealousy had not yet made her -desperate, and her attentions to Mr. Darcy were by no means -over. Miss Darcy, on her brother's entrance, exerted herself -much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for -his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as much -as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss -Bingley saw all this likewise and, in the imprudence of anger, -took the first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility -"Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the shire Militia removed from -Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family." -In Darcy's presence she dared not mention Wickham's name -but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in -her thoughts and the various recollections connected with him -gave her a moment's distress but exerting herself vigorously to -repel the illnatured attack, she presently answered the question -in a tolerably detached tone. While she spoke, an involuntary -glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion, -earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, -and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what -pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly -would have refrained from the hint but she had merely intended -to discompose Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea of a man -to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility -which might injure her in Darcy's opinion, and, perhaps, to -remind the latter of all the follies and absurdities by which -some part of her family were connected with that corps. Not a -syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy's meditated -elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy -was possible, except to Elizabeth and from all Bingley's -connections her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, -from the very wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to -him, of their becoming hereafter her own. He had certainly -formed such a plan, and without meaning that it should effect -his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet, it is probable -that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare -of his friend. -Elizabeth's collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his -emotion and as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared -not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in -time, though not enough to be able to speak any more. Her -brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely recollected her -interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had -been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to -have fixed them on her more and more cheerfully. -Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer -above mentioned and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to -their carriage Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms -on Elizabeth's person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana -would not join her. Her brother's recommendation was enough -to ensure her favour his judgement could not err. And he had -spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana without -the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable. -When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help -repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his -sister. -"How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy," -she cried "I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she -is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse Louisa -and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again." -However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he -contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no -other alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous -consequence of travelling in the summer. -"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never -could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin her -complexion has no brilliancy and her features are not at all -handsome. Her nose wants characterthere is nothing marked -in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common -way and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so -fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They -have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all and in her -air altogether there is a selfsufficiency without fashion, which -is intolerable." -Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, -this was not the best method of recommending herself but -angry people are not always wise and in seeing him at last look -somewhat nettled, she had all the success she expected. He was -resolutely silent, however, and, from a determination of making -him speak, she continued -"I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how -amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty and I -particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been -dining at Netherfield, 'She a beautyI should as soon call her -mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, -and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time." -"Yes," replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, -"but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months -since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of -my acquaintance." -He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the -satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any -pain but herself. -Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during -their visit, as they returned, except what had particularly -interested them both. The look and behaviour of everybody they -had seen were discussed, except of the person who had mostly -engaged their attention. They talked of his sister, his friends, -his house, his fruitof everything but himself yet Elizabeth -was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of him, and Mrs. -Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece's beginning -the subject. -Chapter -Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a -letter from Jane on their first arrival at Lambton and this -disappointment had been renewed on each of the mornings that -had now been spent there but on the third her repining was -over, and her sister justified, by the receipt of two letters -from her at once, on one of which was marked that it had been -missent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as Jane -had written the direction remarkably ill. -They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in -and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set -off by themselves. The one missent must first be attended to -it had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an -account of all their little parties and engagements, with such -news as the country afforded but the latter half, which was -dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more -important intelligence. It was to this effect -"Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred -of a most unexpected and serious nature but I am afraid of -alarming yoube assured that we are all well. What I have to -say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, -just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to -inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his -officers to own the truth, with Wickham Imagine our surprise. -To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I -am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides But -I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been -misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe -him, but this step and let us rejoice over it marks nothing bad -at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know -my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly -grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we -never let them know what has been said against him we must -forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve, -as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at -eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they -must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives -us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for -his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for -I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not -be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written." -Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely -knowing what she felt, Elizabeth on finishing this letter instantly -seized the other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read -as follows it had been written a day later than the conclusion of -the first. -"By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried -letter I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not -confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer -for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would -write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. -Imprudent as the marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor -Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken -place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone -to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left -Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. -Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand -that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped -by Denny expressing his belief that W. never intended to go -there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel -F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B. intending to -trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no -further for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney -coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. -All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue -the London road. I know not what to think. After making every -possible inquiry on that side London, Colonel F. came on into -Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and -at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but without any successno -such people had been seen to pass through. With the kindest -concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions -to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely -grieved for him and Mrs. F., but no one can throw any blame -on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father -and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. -Many circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be -married privately in town than to pursue their first plan -and even if he could form such a design against a young woman -of Lydia's connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her -so lost to everything? Impossible I grieve to find, however, -that Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage -he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared -W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, -and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be better -but this is not to be expected. And as to my father, I never in -my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having -concealed their attachment but as it was a matter of confidence, -one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you -have been spared something of these distressing scenes but -now, as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for -your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it, -if inconvenient. Adieu I take up my pen again to do what I -have just told you I would not but circumstances are such that -I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as -possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not -afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to -ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel -Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do -I am sure I know not but his excessive distress will not allow -him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and -Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again tomorrow -evening. In such an exigence, my uncle's advice and assistance -would be everything in the world he will immediately comprehend -what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness." -"Oh where, where is my uncle?" cried Elizabeth, darting from -her seat as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, -without losing a moment of the time so precious but as she -reached the door it was opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy -appeared. Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start, -and before he could recover himself to speak, she, in whose -mind every idea was superseded by Lydia's situation, hastily -exclaimed, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must -find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be -delayed I have not an instant to lose." -"Good God what is the matter?" cried he, with more feeling -than politeness then recollecting himself, "I will not detain you -a minute but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. -Gardiner. You are not well enough you cannot go yourself." -Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her and she -felt how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. -Calling back the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, -though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible, -to fetch his master and mistress home instantly. -On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to support -herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible -for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone -of gentleness and commiseration, "Let me call your maid. Is -there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A -glass of wine shall I get you one? You are very ill." -"No, I thank you," she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. -"There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well I am -only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just -received from Longbourn." -She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes -could not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, -could only say something indistinctly of his concern, and -observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke -again. "I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful -news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister -has left all her friendshas eloped has thrown herself into -the power ofof Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from -Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has -no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him toshe -is lost for ever." -Darcy was fixed in astonishment. "When I consider," she added -in a yet more agitated voice, "that I might have prevented it -I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of -it onlysome part of what I learnt, to my own family Had his -character been known, this could not have happened. But it is -allall too late now." -"I am grieved indeed," cried Darcy "grievedshocked. But is -it certainabsolutely certain?" -"Oh, yes They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and -were traced almost to London, but not beyond they are -certainly not gone to Scotland." -"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover -her?" -"My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my -uncle's immediate assistance and we shall be off, I hope, in -halfanhour. But nothing can be doneI know very well that -nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How -are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. -It is every way horrible" -Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence. -"When my eyes were opened to his real characterOh had I -known what I ought, what I dared to do But I knew notI -was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake" -Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and -was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation, his -brow contracted, his air gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and -instantly understood it. Her power was sinking everything -must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an -assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither wonder -nor condemn, but the belief of his selfconquest brought nothing -consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her -distress. It was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make -her understand her own wishes and never had she so honestly felt -that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain. -But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. -Lydiathe humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all, -soon swallowed up every private care and covering her face with -her handkerchief, Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else -and, after a pause of several minutes, was only recalled to a -sense of her situation by the voice of her companion, who, in a -manner which, though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, -said, "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor -have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though -unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be -either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to -such distress But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which -may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate -affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of -seeing you at Pemberley today." -"Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for us to Miss Darcy. Say -that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the -unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long." -He readily assured her of his secrecy again expressed his sorrow -for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was -at present reason to hope, and leaving his compliments for her -relations, with only one serious, parting look, went away. -As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was -that they should ever see each other again on such terms of -cordiality as had marked their several meetings in Derbyshire -and as she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their -acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties, sighed -at the perverseness of those feelings which would now have -promoted its continuance, and would formerly have rejoiced in -its termination. -If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, -Elizabeth's change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor -faulty. But if otherwiseif regard springing from such sources -is unreasonable or unnatural, in comparison of what is so often -described as arising on a first interview with its object, and even -before two words have been exchanged, nothing can be said in -her defence, except that she had given somewhat of a trial to the -latter method in her partiality for Wickham, and that its ill -success might, perhaps, authorise her to seek the other less -interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him -go with regret and in this early example of what Lydia's infamy -must produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that -wretched business. Never, since reading Jane's second letter, -had she entertained a hope of Wickham's meaning to marry her. -No one but Jane, she thought, could flatter herself with such an -expectation. Surprise was the least of her feelings on this -development. While the contents of the first letter remained in -her mind, she was all surpriseall astonishment that Wickham -should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry -for money and how Lydia could ever have attached him had -appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For -such an attachment as this she might have sufficient charms and -though she did not suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in -an elopement without the intention of marriage, she had no -difficulty in believing that neither her virtue nor her -understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey. -She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, -that Lydia had any partiality for him but she was convinced that -Lydia wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. -Sometimes one officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, -as their attentions raised them in her opinion. Her affections -had continually been fluctuating but never without an object. -The mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence towards such a -girloh how acutely did she now feel it -She was wild to be at hometo hear, to see, to be upon the -spot to share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly -upon her, in a family so deranged, a father absent, a mother -incapable of exertion, and requiring constant attendance and -though almost persuaded that nothing could be done for Lydia, -her uncle's interference seemed of the utmost importance, and -till he entered the room her impatience was severe. Mr. and -Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing by the -servant's account that their niece was taken suddenly ill but -satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated -the cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and -dwelling on the postscript of the last with trembling energy, -though Lydia had never been a favourite with them, Mr. and -Mrs. Gardiner could not but be deeply afflicted. Not Lydia -only, but all were concerned in it and after the first -exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner promised -every assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no -less, thanked him with tears of gratitude and all three being -actuated by one spirit, everything relating to their journey was -speedily settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. "But -what is to be done about Pemberley?" cried Mrs. Gardiner. -"John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent for us was it -so?" -"Yes and I told him we should not be able to keep our -engagement. That is all settled." -"What is all settled?" repeated the other, as she ran into her -room to prepare. "And are they upon such terms as for her to -disclose the real truth? Oh, that I knew how it was" -But wishes were vain, or at least could only serve to amuse her -in the hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth -been at leisure to be idle, she would have remained certain that -all employment was impossible to one so wretched as herself -but she had her share of business as well as her aunt, and -amongst the rest there were notes to be written to all their -friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their sudden -departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed and -Mr. Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account at the inn, -nothing remained to be done but to go and Elizabeth, after all -the misery of the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of -time than she could have supposed, seated in the carriage, and -on the road to Longbourn. -Chapter -"I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth," said her uncle, -as they drove from the town "and really, upon serious -consideration, I am much more inclined than I was to judge as -your eldest sister does on the matter. It appears to me so very -unlikely that any young man should form such a design against -a girl who is by no means unprotected or friendless, and who -was actually staying in his colonel's family, that I am strongly -inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends -would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again -by the regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His -temptation is not adequate to the risk" -"Do you really think so?" cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a -moment. -"Upon my word," said Mrs. Gardiner, "I begin to be of your -uncle's opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, -honour, and interest, for him to be guilty of. I cannot think -so very ill of Wickham. Can you yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give -him up, as to believe him capable of it?" -"Not, perhaps, of neglecting his own interest but of every other -neglect I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so -But I dare not hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland -if that had been the case?" -"In the first place," replied Mr. Gardiner, "there is no absolute -proof that they are not gone to Scotland." -"Oh but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is -such a presumption And, besides, no traces of them were to be -found on the Barnet road." -"Well, thensupposing them to be in London. They may be there, -though for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptional -purpose. It is not likely that money should be very abundant on -either side and it might strike them that they could be more -economically, though less expeditiously, married in London -than in Scotland." -"But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must -their marriage be private? Oh, no, nothis is not likely. -His most particular friend, you see by Jane's account, was -persuaded of his never intending to marry her. Wickham will -never marry a woman without some money. He cannot afford -it. And what claims has Lydiawhat attraction has she beyond -youth, health, and good humour that could make him, for her -sake, forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying -well? As to what restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the -corps might throw on a dishonourable elopement with her, I am -not able to judge for I know nothing of the effects that such a -step might produce. But as to your other objection, I am afraid -it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no brothers to step forward -and he might imagine, from my father's behaviour, from his -indolence and the little attention he has ever seemed to give -to what was going forward in his family, that he would do as -little, and think as little about it, as any father could do, -in such a matter." -"But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love -of him as to consent to live with him on any terms other than -marriage?" -"It does seem, and it is most shocking indeed," replied Elizabeth, -with tears in her eyes, "that a sister's sense of decency and -virtue in such a point should admit of doubt. But, really, -I know not what to say. Perhaps I am not doing her justice. -But she is very young she has never been taught to think -on serious subjects and for the last halfyear, nay, for a -twelvemonthshe has been given up to nothing but amusement -and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the -most idle and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that -came in her way. Since the shire were first quartered in -Meryton, nothing but love, flirtation, and officers have been -in her head. She has been doing everything in her power by -thinking and talking on the subject, to give greaterwhat shall -I call it? susceptibility to her feelings which are naturally -lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every charm of -person and address that can captivate a woman." -"But you see that Jane," said her aunt, "does not think so very -ill of Wickham as to believe him capable of the attempt." -"Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever -might be their former conduct, that she would think capable of -such an attempt, till it were proved against them? But Jane -knows, as well as I do, what Wickham really is. We both know -that he has been profligate in every sense of the word that he -has neither integrity nor honour that he is as false and -deceitful as he is insinuating." -"And do you really know all this?" cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose -curiosity as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive. -"I do indeed," replied Elizabeth, colouring. "I told you, the -other day, of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy and you -yourself, when last at Longbourn, heard in what manner he -spoke of the man who had behaved with such forbearance and -liberality towards him. And there are other circumstances which -I am not at libertywhich it is not worth while to relate but -his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From what -he said of Miss Darcy I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud, -reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. -He must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we -have found her." -"But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of -what you and Jane seem so well to understand?" -"Oh, yesthat, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, -and saw so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel -Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself. And when I -returned home, the shire was to leave Meryton in a week or -fortnight's time. As that was the case, neither Jane, to whom -I related the whole, nor I, thought it necessary to make our -knowledge public for of what use could it apparently be to any -one, that the good opinion which all the neighbourhood had of -him should then be overthrown? And even when it was settled -that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of opening -her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That she could -be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. -That such a consequence as this could ensue, you may easily -believe, was far enough from my thoughts." -"When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no -reason, I suppose, to believe them fond of each other?" -"Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on -either side and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you -must be aware that ours is not a family on which it could be -thrown away. When first he entered the corps, she was ready -enough to admire him but so we all were. Every girl in or -near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first -two months but he never distinguished her by any particular -attention and, consequently, after a moderate period of -extravagant and wild admiration, her fancy for him gave -way, and others of the regiment, who treated her with more -distinction, again became her favourites." -It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be -added to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting -subject, by its repeated discussion, no other could detain them -from it long, during the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth's -thoughts it was never absent. Fixed there by the keenest of all -anguish, selfreproach, she could find no interval of ease or -forgetfulness. -They travelled as expeditiously as possible, and, sleeping one -night on the road, reached Longbourn by dinner time the next -day. It was a comfort to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could -not have been wearied by long expectations. -The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were -standing on the steps of the house as they entered the paddock -and, when the carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise -that lighted up their faces, and displayed itself over their whole -bodies, in a variety of capers and frisks, was the first pleasing -earnest of their welcome. -Elizabeth jumped out and, after giving each of them a hasty -kiss, hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running -down from her mother's apartment, immediately met her. -Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled -the eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything -had been heard of the fugitives. -"Not yet," replied Jane. "But now that my dear uncle is come, -I hope everything will be well." -"Is my father in town?" -"Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word." -"And have you heard from him often?" -"We have heard only twice. He wrote me a few lines on -Wednesday to say that he had arrived in safety, and to give me -his directions, which I particularly begged him to do. He merely -added that he should not write again till he had something of -importance to mention." -"And my motherhow is she? How are you all?" -"My mother is tolerably well, I trust though her spirits are -greatly shaken. She is upstairs and will have great satisfaction -in seeing you all. She does not yet leave her dressingroom. -Mary and Kitty, thank Heaven, are quite well." -"But youhow are you?" cried Elizabeth. "You look pale. -How much you must have gone through" -Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well -and their conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and -Mrs. Gardiner were engaged with their children, was now put an -end to by the approach of the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle -and aunt, and welcomed and thanked them both, with alternate -smiles and tears. -When they were all in the drawingroom, the questions which -Elizabeth had already asked were of course repeated by the -others, and they soon found that Jane had no intelligence -to give. The sanguine hope of good, however, which the -benevolence of her heart suggested had not yet deserted her -she still expected that it would all end well, and that every -morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her -father, to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce -their marriage. -Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few -minutes' conversation together, received them exactly as might -be expected with tears and lamentations of regret, invectives -against the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of -her own sufferings and illusage blaming everybody but the -person to whose illjudging indulgence the errors of her -daughter must principally be owing. -"If I had been able," said she, "to carry my point in going to -Brighton, with all my family, this would not have happened -but poor dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Why did -the Forsters ever let her go out of their sight? I am sure there -was some great neglect or other on their side, for she is not the -kind of girl to do such a thing if she had been well looked after. -I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her -but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor dear child And -now here's Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight -Wickham, wherever he meets him and then he will be killed, and -what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out -before he is cold in his grave, and if you are not kind to us, -brother, I do not know what we shall do." -They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas and Mr. Gardiner, -after general assurances of his affection for her and all her -family, told her that he meant to be in London the very next day, -and would assist Mr. Bennet in every endeavour for recovering -Lydia. -"Do not give way to useless alarm," added he "though it is -right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look -on it as certain. It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. -In a few days more we may gain some news of them and till we -know that they are not married, and have no design of marrying, -do not let us give the matter over as lost. As soon as I get to -town I shall go to my brother, and make him come home with -me to Gracechurch Street and then we may consult together as -to what is to be done." -"Oh my dear brother," replied Mrs. Bennet, "that is exactly -what I could most wish for. And now do, when you get to -town, find them out, wherever they may be and if they are -not married already, make them marry. And as for wedding -clothes, do not let them wait for that, but tell Lydia she -shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, after they -are married. And, above all, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting. -Tell him what a dreadful state I am in, that I am frighted out -of my witsand have such tremblings, such flutterings, all -over mesuch spasms in my side and pains in my head, and -such beatings at heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by -day. And tell my dear Lydia not to give any directions about -her clothes till she has seen me, for she does not know which -are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how kind you are I -know you will contrive it all." -But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest -endeavours in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation -to her, as well in her hopes as her fear and after talking with -her in this manner till dinner was on the table, they all left -her to vent all her feelings on the housekeeper, who attended -in the absence of her daughters. -Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no -real occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not -attempt to oppose it, for they knew that she had not prudence -enough to hold her tongue before the servants, while they -waited at table, and judged it better that one only of the -household, and the one whom they could most trust should -comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the subject. -In the diningroom they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, -who had been too busily engaged in their separate apartments -to make their appearance before. One came from her books, -and the other from her toilette. The faces of both, however, -were tolerably calm and no change was visible in either, except -that the loss of her favourite sister, or the anger which she had -herself incurred in this business, had given more of fretfulness -than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was -mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a -countenance of grave reflection, soon after they were seated -at table -"This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much -talked of. But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into -the wounded bosoms of each other the balm of sisterly consolation." -Then, perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she -added, "Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw -from it this useful lesson that loss of virtue in a female is -irretrievable that one false step involves her in endless ruin -that her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful and -that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the -undeserving of the other sex." -Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much -oppressed to make any reply. Mary, however, continued to -console herself with such kind of moral extractions from the -evil before them. -In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be -for halfanhour by themselves and Elizabeth instantly availed -herself of the opportunity of making any inquiries, which Jane -was equally eager to satisfy. After joining in general -lamentations over the dreadful sequel of this event, which -Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss Bennet could -not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued the -subject, by saying, "But tell me all and everything about it -which I have not already heard. Give me further particulars. -What did Colonel Forster say? Had they no apprehension of -anything before the elopement took place? They must have seen -them together for ever." -"Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some -partiality, especially on Lydia's side, but nothing to give him any -alarm. I am so grieved for him His behaviour was attentive and -kind to the utmost. He was coming to us, in order to assure us -of his concern, before he had any idea of their not being gone to -Scotland when that apprehension first got abroad, it hastened -his journey." -"And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did -he know of their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster -seen Denny himself?" -"Yes but, when questioned by him, Denny denied knowing -anything of their plans, and would not give his real opinion -about it. He did not repeat his persuasion of their not -marryingand from that, I am inclined to hope, he might -have been misunderstood before." -"And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you -entertained a doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?" -"How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? -I felt a little uneasya little fearful of my sister's happiness -with him in marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been -always quite right. My father and mother knew nothing of that -they only felt how imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then -owned, with a very natural triumph on knowing more than the -rest of us, that in Lydia's last letter she had prepared her for -such a step. She had known, it seems, of their being in love with -each other, many weeks." -"But not before they went to Brighton?" -"No, I believe not." -"And did Colonel Forster appear to think well of Wickham -himself? Does he know his real character?" -"I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he -formerly did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant. -And since this sad affair has taken place, it is said that he -left Meryton greatly in debt but I hope this may be false." -"Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew -of him, this could not have happened" -"Perhaps it would have been better," replied her sister. "But to -expose the former faults of any person without knowing what -their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable. We acted with -the best intentions." -"Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia's note to -his wife?" -"He brought it with him for us to see." -Jane then took it from her pocketbook, and gave it to Elizabeth. -These were the contents -"MY DEAR HARRIET, -"You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot -help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning, as -soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you -cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there -is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should -never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You -need not send them word at Longbourn of my going, if you do -not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater, when I -write to them and sign my name 'Lydia Wickham.' What a good -joke it will be I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make -my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing -with him tonight. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he -knows all and tell him I will dance with him at the next ball -we meet, with great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when -I get to Longbourn but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a -great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed up. -Goodbye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will -drink to our good journey. -"Your affectionate friend, -"LYDIA BENNET." -"Oh thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia" cried Elizabeth when she -had finished it. "What a letter is this, to be written at such -a moment But at least it shows that she was serious on the -subject of their journey. Whatever he might afterwards -persuade her to, it was not on her side a scheme of infamy. -My poor father how he must have felt it" -"I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word -for full ten minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, -and the whole house in such confusion" -"Oh Jane," cried Elizabeth, "was there a servant belonging to it -who did not know the whole story before the end of the day?" -"I do not know. I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a -time is very difficult. My mother was in hysterics, and though -I endeavoured to give her every assistance in my power, I am -afraid I did not do so much as I might have done But the -horror of what might possibly happen almost took from me -my faculties." -"Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do -not look well. Oh that I had been with you you have had -every care and anxiety upon yourself alone." -"Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in -every fatigue, I am sure but I did not think it right for either -of them. Kitty is slight and delicate and Mary studies so much, -that her hours of repose should not be broken in on. My aunt -Phillips came to Longbourn on Tuesday, after my father went -away and was so good as to stay till Thursday with me. She -was of great use and comfort to us all. And Lady Lucas has -been very kind she walked here on Wednesday morning to -condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her -daughters', if they should be of use to us." -"She had better have stayed at home," cried Elizabeth "perhaps -she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one -cannot see too little of one's neighbours. Assistance is -impossible condolence insufferable. Let them triumph over us -at a distance, and be satisfied." -She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her -father had intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery -of his daughter. -"He meant I believe," replied Jane, "to go to Epsom, the place -where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if -anything could be made out from them. His principal object -must be to discover the number of the hackney coach which -took them from Clapham. It had come with a fare from London -and as he thought that the circumstance of a gentleman and lady's -removing from one carriage into another might be remarked he -meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow discover -at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he -determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be -impossible to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do -not know of any other designs that he had formed but he was in -such a hurry to be gone, and his spirits so greatly discomposed, -that I had difficulty in finding out even so much as this." -Chapter -The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the -next morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line -from him. His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, -a most negligent and dilatory correspondent but at such a time -they had hoped for exertion. They were forced to conclude that -he had no pleasing intelligence to send but even of that they -would have been glad to be certain. Mr. Gardiner had waited -only for the letters before he set off. -When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving -constant information of what was going on, and their uncle -promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to -Longbourn, as soon as he could, to the great consolation of his -sister, who considered it as the only security for her husband's -not being killed in a duel. -Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire -a few days longer, as the former thought her presence might be -serviceable to her nieces. She shared in their attendance on -Mrs. Bennet, and was a great comfort to them in their hours of -freedom. Their other aunt also visited them frequently, and -always, as she said, with the design of cheering and heartening -them upthough, as she never came without reporting some -fresh instance of Wickham's extravagance or irregularity, she -seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than -she found them. -All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three -months before, had been almost an angel of light. He was -declared to be in debt to every tradesman in the place, and his -intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had been -extended into every tradesman's family. Everybody declared -that he was the wickedest young man in the world and everybody -began to find out that they had always distrusted the appearance -of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above -half of what was said, believed enough to make her former -assurance of her sister's ruin more certain and even Jane, -who believed still less of it, became almost hopeless, more -especially as the time was now come when, if they had gone to -Scotland, which she had never before entirely despaired of, -they must in all probability have gained some news of them. -Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday on Tuesday his wife -received a letter from him it told them that, on his arrival, -he had immediately found out his brother, and persuaded him to -come to Gracechurch Street that Mr. Bennet had been to -Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival, but without gaining -any satisfactory information and that he was now determined -to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet -thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on -their first coming to London, before they procured lodgings. -Mr. Gardiner himself did not expect any success from this -measure, but as his brother was eager in it, he meant to assist -him in pursuing it. He added that Mr. Bennet seemed wholly -disinclined at present to leave London and promised to write -again very soon. There was also a postscript to this effect -"I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, -if possible, from some of the young man's intimates in the -regiment, whether Wickham has any relations or connections -who would be likely to know in what part of town he has now -concealed himself. If there were anyone that one could apply -to with a probability of gaining such a clue as that, it might be -of essential consequence. At present we have nothing to guide -us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in his power -to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps, -Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living, better than -any other person." -Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this -deference to her authority proceeded but it was not in her -power to give any information of so satisfactory a nature as the -compliment deserved. She had never heard of his having had -any relations, except a father and mother, both of whom had -been dead many years. It was possible, however, that some of -his companions in the shire might be able to give more -information and though she was not very sanguine in expecting -it, the application was a something to look forward to. -Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety but the most -anxious part of each was when the post was expected. The -arrival of letters was the grand object of every morning's -impatience. Through letters, whatever of good or bad was to -be told would be communicated, and every succeeding day was -expected to bring some news of importance. -But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived -for their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins -which, as Jane had received directions to open all that came for -him in his absence, she accordingly read and Elizabeth, who -knew what curiosities his letters always were, looked over her, -and read it likewise. It was as follows -"MY DEAR SIR, -"I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation -in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now -suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter -from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins -and myself sincerely sympathise with you and all your respectable -family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest -kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. -No arguments shall be wanting on my part that can alleviate so -severe a misfortuneor that may comfort you, under a circumstance -that must be of all others the most afflicting to a parent's mind. -The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison -of this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is -reason to suppose as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this -licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has proceeded from -a faulty degree of indulgence though, at the same time, for the -consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined to think -that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she could not -be guilty of such an enormity, at so early an age. Howsoever that -may be, you are grievously to be pitied in which opinion I am not -only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and -her daughter, to whom I have related the affair. They agree with -me in apprehending that this false step in one daughter will be -injurious to the fortunes of all the others for who, as Lady -Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves -with such a family? And this consideration leads me moreover -to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event -of last November for had it been otherwise, I must have been -involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me then advise you, -dear sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off -your unworthy child from your affection for ever, and leave her -to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense. -"I am, dear sir, etc., etc." -Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had received an answer -from Colonel Forster and then he had nothing of a pleasant -nature to send. It was not known that Wickham had a single -relationship with whom he kept up any connection, and it -was certain that he had no near one living. His former -acquaintances had been numerous but since he had been in the -militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of particular -friendship with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who -could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And -in the wretched state of his own finances, there was a very -powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery -by Lydia's relations, for it had just transpired that he had -left gaming debts behind him to a very considerable amount. -Colonel Forster believed that more than a thousand pounds -would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton. He owed -a good deal in town, but his debts of honour were still more -formidable. Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal these -particulars from the Longbourn family. Jane heard them with -horror. "A gamester" she cried. "This is wholly unexpected. -I had not an idea of it." -Mr. Gardiner added in his letter, that they might expect to see -their father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. -Rendered spiritless by the illsuccess of all their endeavours, he -had yielded to his brotherinlaw's entreaty that he would return -to his family, and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might -suggest to be advisable for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. -Bennet was told of this, she did not express so much satisfaction -as her children expected, considering what her anxiety for his -life had been before. -"What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?" she cried. -"Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who -is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?" -As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled -that she and the children should go to London, at the same time -that Mr. Bennet came from it. The coach, therefore, took them -the first stage of their journey, and brought its master back -to Longbourn. -Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth -and her Derbyshire friend that had attended her from that part -of the world. His name had never been voluntarily mentioned -before them by her niece and the kind of halfexpectation which -Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their being followed by a letter -from him, had ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none -since her return that could come from Pemberley. -The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other -excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary nothing, -therefore, could be fairly conjectured from that, though -Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with -her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known -nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of Lydia's -infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, -one sleepless night out of two. -When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual -philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in -the habit of saying made no mention of the business that had -taken him away, and it was some time before his daughters had -courage to speak of it. -It was not till the afternoon, when he had joined them at tea, -that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject and then, on -her briefly expressing her sorrow for what he must have -endured, he replied, "Say nothing of that. Who should suffer -but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it." -"You must not be too severe upon yourself," replied Elizabeth. -"You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is -so prone to fall into it No, Lizzy, let me once in my life -feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being -overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough." -"Do you suppose them to be in London?" -"Yes where else can they be so well concealed?" -"And Lydia used to want to go to London," added Kitty. -"She is happy then," said her father drily "and her residence -there will probably be of some duration." -Then after a short silence he continued -"Lizzy, I bear you no illwill for being justified in your advice -to me last May, which, considering the event, shows some -greatness of mind." -They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her -mother's tea. -"This is a parade," he cried, "which does one good it gives such -an elegance to misfortune Another day I will do the same I -will sit in my library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and -give as much trouble as I can or, perhaps, I may defer it till -Kitty runs away." -"I am not going to run away, papa," said Kitty fretfully. "If I -should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia." -"You go to Brighton. I would not trust you so near it as -Eastbourne for fifty pounds No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to -be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever -to enter into my house again, nor even to pass through the -village. Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up -with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out of doors -till you can prove that you have spent ten minutes of every day -in a rational manner." -Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry. -"Well, well," said he, "do not make yourself unhappy. If you -are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review -at the end of them." -Chapter -Two days after Mr. Bennet's return, as Jane and Elizabeth were -walking together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw -the housekeeper coming towards them, and, concluding that she -came to call them to their mother, went forward to meet her -but, instead of the expected summons, when they approached -her, she said to Miss Bennet, "I beg your pardon, madam, for -interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some -good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask." -"What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town." -"Dear madam," cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, "don't -you know there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? -He has been here this halfhour, and master has had a letter." -Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. -They ran through the vestibule into the breakfastroom from -thence to the library their father was in neither and they -were on the point of seeking him upstairs with their mother, -when they were met by the butler, who said -"If you are looking for my master, ma'am, he is walking -towards the little copse." -Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall -once more, and ran across the lawn after their father, who was -deliberately pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side -of the paddock. -Jane, who was not so light nor so much in the habit of running -as Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for -breath, came up with him, and eagerly cried out -"Oh, papa, what newswhat news? Have you heard from my -uncle?" -"Yes I have had a letter from him by express." -"Well, and what news does it bringgood or bad?" -"What is there of good to be expected?" said he, taking the -letter from his pocket. "But perhaps you would like to read it." -Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up. -"Read it aloud," said their father, "for I hardly know myself what -it is about." -"Gracechurch Street, Monday, -August . -"MY DEAR BROTHER, -"At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and -such as, upon the whole, I hope it will give you satisfaction. -Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to -find out in what part of London they were. The particulars I -reserve till we meet it is enough to know they are discovered. -I have seen them both" -"Then it is as I always hoped," cried Jane "they are married" -Elizabeth read on -"I have seen them both. They are not married, nor can I find -there was any intention of being so but if you are willing to -perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on your -side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is -required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, -her equal share of the five thousand pounds secured among your -children after the decease of yourself and my sister and, -moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during -your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions -which, considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying -with, as far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall -send this by express, that no time may be lost in bringing me -your answer. You will easily comprehend, from these particulars, -that Mr. Wickham's circumstances are not so hopeless as they -are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived in -that respect and I am happy to say there will be some little -money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on my -niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I conclude will -be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name -throughout the whole of this business, I will immediately give -directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement. -There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to town -again therefore stay quiet at Longbourn, and depend on my -diligence and care. Send back your answer as fast as you can, -and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that -my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope -you will approve. She comes to us today. I shall write again -as soon as anything more is determined on. Yours, etc., -"EDW. GARDINER." -"Is it possible?" cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. "Can it -be possible that he will marry her?" -"Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we thought him," said -her sister. "My dear father, I congratulate you." -"And have you answered the letter?" cried Elizabeth. -"No but it must be done soon." -Most earnestly did she then entreaty him to lose no more time -before he wrote. -"Oh my dear father," she cried, "come back and write immediately. -Consider how important every moment is in such a case." -"Let me write for you," said Jane, "if you dislike the trouble -yourself." -"I dislike it very much," he replied "but it must be done." -And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards -the house. -"And may I ask" said Elizabeth "but the terms, I suppose, -must be complied with." -"Complied with I am only ashamed of his asking so little." -"And they must marry Yet he is such a man" -"Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. -But there are two things that I want very much to know one is, -how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about -and the other, how am I ever to pay him." -"Money My uncle" cried Jane, "what do you mean, sir?" -"I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so -slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and -fifty after I am gone." -"That is very true," said Elizabeth "though it had not occurred -to me before. His debts to be discharged, and something still -to remain Oh it must be my uncle's doings Generous, good -man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could -not do all this." -"No," said her father "Wickham's a fool if he takes her with a -farthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to -think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship." -"Ten thousand pounds Heaven forbid How is half such a -sum to be repaid?" -Mr. Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep in thought, -continued silent till they reached the house. Their father then -went on to the library to write, and the girls walked into the -breakfastroom. -"And they are really to be married" cried Elizabeth, as soon -as they were by themselves. "How strange this is And for -this we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as -is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, -we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia" -"I comfort myself with thinking," replied Jane, "that he certainly -would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her. -Though our kind uncle has done something towards clearing -him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or anything like -it, has been advanced. He has children of his own, and may -have more. How could he spare half ten thousand pounds?" -"If he were ever able to learn what Wickham's debts have been," -said Elizabeth, "and how much is settled on his side on our -sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for -them, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. The -kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited. Their -taking her home, and affording her their personal protection -and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as years -of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she -is actually with them If such goodness does not make her -miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy What a -meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt" -"We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side," -said Jane "I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His -consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is -come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will -steady them and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, -and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their -past imprudence forgotten." -"Their conduct has been such," replied Elizabeth, "as neither -you, nor I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk -of it." -It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all -likelihood perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went -to the library, therefore, and asked their father whether he -would not wish them to make it known to her. He was writing -and, without raising his head, coolly replied -"Just as you please." -"May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?" -"Take whatever you like, and get away." -Elizabeth took the letter from his writingtable, and they went -upstairs together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet -one communication would, therefore, do for all. After a slight -preparation for good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs. -Bennet could hardly contain herself. As soon as Jane had read -Mr. Gardiner's hope of Lydia's being soon married, her joy -burst forth, and every following sentence added to its -exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from -delight, as she had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. -To know that her daughter would be married was enough. She -was disturbed by no fear for her felicity, nor humbled by any -remembrance of her misconduct. -"My dear, dear Lydia" she cried. "This is delightful indeed -She will be married I shall see her again She will be married -at sixteen My good, kind brother I knew how it would be. I -knew he would manage everything How I long to see her and -to see dear Wickham too But the clothes, the wedding clothes -I will write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy, -my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will -give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, Kitty, for -Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia -How merry we shall be together when we meet" -Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the -violence of these transports, by leading her thoughts to the -obligations which Mr. Gardiner's behaviour laid them all under. -"For we must attribute this happy conclusion," she added, "in a -great measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has -pledged himself to assist Mr. Wickham with money." -"Well," cried her mother, "it is all very right who should do it -but her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and -my children must have had all his money, you know and it is the -first time we have ever had anything from him, except a few -presents. Well I am so happy In a short time I shall have -a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham How well it sounds And -she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in such a -flutter, that I am sure I can't write so I will dictate, and you -write for me. We will settle with your father about the money -afterwards but the things should be ordered immediately." -She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, -muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very -plentiful orders, had not Jane, though with some difficulty, -persuaded her to wait till her father was at leisure to be -consulted. One day's delay, she observed, would be of small -importance and her mother was too happy to be quite so -obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head. -"I will go to Meryton," said she, "as soon as I am dressed, and -tell the good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come -back, I can call on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down -and order the carriage. An airing would do me a great deal of -good, I am sure. Girls, can I do anything for you in Meryton? -Oh Here comes Hill My dear Hill, have you heard the good -news? Miss Lydia is going to be married and you shall all have -a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding." -Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received -her congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, -took refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom. -Poor Lydia's situation must, at best, be bad enough but that -it was no worse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so -and though, in looking forward, neither rational happiness nor -worldly prosperity could be justly expected for her sister, in -looking back to what they had feared, only two hours ago, she -felt all the advantages of what they had gained. -Chapter -Mr. Bennet had very often wished before this period of his life -that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an -annual sum for the better provision of his children, and of his -wife, if she survived him. He now wished it more than ever. -Had he done his duty in that respect, Lydia need not have been -indebted to her uncle for whatever of honour or credit could -now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of prevailing on -one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to be her -husband might then have rested in its proper place. -He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage -to anyone should be forwarded at the sole expense of his -brotherinlaw, and he was determined, if possible, to find out -the extent of his assistance, and to discharge the obligation -as soon as he could. -When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be -perfectly useless, for, of course, they were to have a son. The -son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should -be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that -means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the -world, but yet the son was to come and Mrs. Bennet, for many -years after Lydia's birth, had been certain that he would. This -event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to -be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy, and her -husband's love of independence had alone prevented their -exceeding their income. -Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. -Bennet and the children. But in what proportions it should be -divided amongst the latter depended on the will of the parents. -This was one point, with regard to Lydia, at least, which was -now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet could have no hesitation in -acceding to the proposal before him. In terms of grateful -acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, though -expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect -approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil -the engagements that had been made for him. He had never before -supposed that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his -daughter, it would be done with so little inconvenience to -himself as by the present arrangement. He would scarcely be -ten pounds a year the loser by the hundred that was to be paid -them for, what with her board and pocket allowance, and the -continual presents in money which passed to her through her -mother's hands, Lydia's expenses had been very little within -that sum. -That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, -too, was another very welcome surprise for his wish at present -was to have as little trouble in the business as possible. When -the first transports of rage which had produced his activity in -seeking her were over, he naturally returned to all his former -indolence. His letter was soon dispatched for, though dilatory -in undertaking business, he was quick in its execution. He -begged to know further particulars of what he was indebted to -his brother, but was too angry with Lydia to send any message -to her. -The good news spread quickly through the house, and with -proportionate speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne -in the latter with decent philosophy. To be sure, it would -have been more for the advantage of conversation had Miss Lydia -Bennet come upon the town or, as the happiest alternative, -been secluded from the world, in some distant farmhouse. -But there was much to be talked of in marrying her and the -goodnatured wishes for her welldoing which had proceeded -before from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton lost but a -little of their spirit in this change of circumstances, because -with such an husband her misery was considered certain. -It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been downstairs but on -this happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, -and in spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave -a damp to her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had -been the first object of her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was -now on the point of accomplishment, and her thoughts and her -words ran wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials, fine -muslins, new carriages, and servants. She was busily searching -through the neighbourhood for a proper situation for her -daughter, and, without knowing or considering what their -income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and -importance. -"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings could quit itor -the great house at Stoke, if the drawingroom were larger but -Ashworth is too far off I could not bear to have her ten miles -from me and as for Pulvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful." -Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while -the servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said -to her "Mrs. Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses -for your son and daughter, let us come to a right understanding. -Into one house in this neighbourhood they shall never have -admittance. I will not encourage the impudence of either, -by receiving them at Longbourn." -A long dispute followed this declaration but Mr. Bennet was -firm. It soon led to another and Mrs. Bennet found, with -amazement and horror, that her husband would not advance a -guinea to buy clothes for his daughter. He protested that she -should receive from him no mark of affection whatever on the -occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend it. That his -anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable -resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege without which -her marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all she could -believe possible. She was more alive to the disgrace which her -want of new clothes must reflect on her daughter's nuptials, than -to any sense of shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a -fortnight before they took place. -Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the -distress of the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted -with their fears for her sister for since her marriage would -so shortly give the proper termination to the elopement, they -might hope to conceal its unfavourable beginning from all those -who were not immediately on the spot. -She had no fear of its spreading farther through his means. -There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more -confidently depended but, at the same time, there was no one -whose knowledge of a sister's frailty would have mortified her -so muchnot, however, from any fear of disadvantage from it -individually to herself, for, at any rate, there seemed a gulf -impassable between them. Had Lydia's marriage been concluded -on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that -Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family where, to every -other objection, would now be added an alliance and relationship -of the nearest kind with a man whom he so justly scorned. -From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink. -The wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself -of his feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation -survive such a blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved -she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous -of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. -She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of -gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been -happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet. -What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know -that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four -months ago, would now have been most gladly and gratefully -received He was as generous, she doubted not, as the most -generous of his sex but while he was mortal, there must be a -triumph. -She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man -who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His -understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have -answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been -to the advantage of both by her ease and liveliness, his mind -might have been softened, his manners improved and from his -judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must -have received benefit of greater importance. -But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring -multitude what connubial felicity really was. An union of a -different tendency, and precluding the possibility of the -other, was soon to be formed in their family. -How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable -independence, she could not imagine. But how little of -permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only -brought together because their passions were stronger than -their virtue, she could easily conjecture. -Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet's -acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurance of his -eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family and -concluded with entreaties that the subject might never be -mentioned to him again. The principal purport of his letter was -to inform them that Mr. Wickham had resolved on quitting the -militia. -"It was greatly my wish that he should do so," he added, "as -soon as his marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree -with me, in considering the removal from that corps as highly -advisable, both on his account and my niece's. It is Mr. Wickham's -intention to go into the regulars and among his former friends, -there are still some who are able and willing to assist him in -the army. He has the promise of an ensigncy in General 's -regiment, now quartered in the North. It is an advantage to have -it so far from this part of the kingdom. He promises fairly and -I hope among different people, where they may each have a character -to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have written to -Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements, and to -request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham -in and near Brighton, with assurances of speedy payment, for which -I have pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of -carrying similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom -I shall subjoin a list according to his information? He has -given in all his debts I hope at least he has not deceived us. -Haggerston has our directions, and all will be completed in a week. -They will then join his regiment, unless they are first invited to -Longbourn and I understand from Mrs. Gardiner, that my niece is -very desirous of seeing you all before she leaves the South. She -is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and your -mother.Yours, etc., -"E. GARDINER." -Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham's -removal from the shire as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. -But Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it. Lydia's being -settled in the North, just when she had expected most pleasure and -pride in her company, for she had by no means given up her plan -of their residing in Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment -and, besides, it was such a pity that Lydia should be taken from -a regiment where she was acquainted with everybody, and had so -many favourites. -"She is so fond of Mrs. Forster," said she, "it will be quite -shocking to send her away And there are several of the young -men, too, that she likes very much. The officers may not be so -pleasant in General's regiment." -His daughter's request, for such it might be considered, of being -admitted into her family again before she set off for the North, -received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth, -who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister's feelings and -consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her -parents, urged him so earnestly yet so rationally and so mildly, -to receive her and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they -were married, that he was prevailed on to think as they thought, -and act as they wished. And their mother had the satisfaction -of knowing that she would be able to show her married daughter -in the neighbourhood before she was banished to the North. When -Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he sent his -permission for them to come and it was settled, that as soon -as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. -Elizabeth was surprised, however, that Wickham should consent -to such a scheme, and had she consulted only her own inclination, -any meeting with him would have been the last object of her wishes. -Chapter -Their sister's wedding day arrived and Jane and Elizabeth felt -for her probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage -was sent to meet them at , and they were to return in it -by dinnertime. Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss -Bennets, and Jane more especially, who gave Lydia the feelings -which would have attended herself, had she been the culprit, -and was wretched in the thought of what her sister must endure. -They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast room to -receive them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet as the -carriage drove up to the door her husband looked impenetrably -grave her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy. -Lydia's voice was heard in the vestibule the door was thrown -open, and she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, -embraced her, and welcomed her with rapture gave her hand, -with an affectionate smile, to Wickham, who followed his lady -and wished them both joy with an alacrity which shewed no doubt -of their happiness. -Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was -not quite so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity -and he scarcely opened his lips. The easy assurance of the -young couple, indeed, was enough to provoke him. Elizabeth was -disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was Lydia -still untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned -from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations and when -at length they all sat down, looked eagerly round the room, took -notice of some little alteration in it, and observed, with a -laugh, that it was a great while since she had been there. -Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, but his -manners were always so pleasing, that had his character and his -marriage been exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy -address, while he claimed their relationship, would have -delighted them all. Elizabeth had not before believed him -quite equal to such assurance but she sat down, resolving -within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of -an impudent man. She blushed, and Jane blushed but the -cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no -variation of colour. -There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could -neither of them talk fast enough and Wickham, who happened to -sit near Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in -that neighbourhood, with a good humoured ease which she felt -very unable to equal in her replies. They seemed each of them -to have the happiest memories in the world. Nothing of the -past was recollected with pain and Lydia led voluntarily to -subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for the -world. -"Only think of its being three months," she cried, "since I -went away it seems but a fortnight I declare and yet there -have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious -when I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married -till I came back again though I thought it would be very good -fun if I was." -Her father lifted up his eyes. Jane was distressed. Elizabeth -looked expressively at Lydia but she, who never heard nor saw -anything of which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued, -"Oh mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married -today? I was afraid they might not and we overtook William -Goulding in his curricle, so I was determined he should know -it, and so I let down the sideglass next to him, and took off -my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so -that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like -anything." -Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up, and ran out of -the room and returned no more, till she heard them passing -through the hall to the dining parlour. She then joined them -soon enough to see Lydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her -mother's right hand, and hear her say to her eldest sister, -"Ah Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, -because I am a married woman." -It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that -embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first. -Her ease and good spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. -Phillips, the Lucases, and all their other neighbours, and to -hear herself called "Mrs. Wickham" by each of them and in the -mean time, she went after dinner to show her ring, and boast -of being married, to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids. -"Well, mamma," said she, when they were all returned to the -breakfast room, "and what do you think of my husband? Is not -he a charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I -only hope they may have half my good luck. They must all go to -Brighton. That is the place to get husbands. What a pity it -is, mamma, we did not all go." -"Very true and if I had my will, we should. But my dear -Lydia, I don't at all like your going such a way off. Must -it be so?" -"Oh, lord yesthere is nothing in that. I shall like it -of all things. You and papa, and my sisters, must come down -and see us. We shall be at Newcastle all the winter, and I -dare say there will be some balls, and I will take care to get -good partners for them all." -"I should like it beyond anything" said her mother. -"And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my -sisters behind you and I dare say I shall get husbands for -them before the winter is over." -"I thank you for my share of the favour," said Elizabeth -"but I do not particularly like your way of getting husbands." -Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. -Mr. Wickham had received his commission before he left London, -and he was to join his regiment at the end of a fortnight. -No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so -short and she made the most of the time by visiting about with -her daughter, and having very frequent parties at home. These -parties were acceptable to all to avoid a family circle was -even more desirable to such as did think, than such as did not. -Wickham's affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had -expected to find it not equal to Lydia's for him. She had -scarcely needed her present observation to be satisfied, from -the reason of things, that their elopement had been brought on -by the strength of her love, rather than by his and she would -have wondered why, without violently caring for her, he chose -to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his -flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances -and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist -an opportunity of having a companion. -Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on -every occasion no one was to be put in competition with him. -He did every thing best in the world and she was sure he would -kill more birds on the first of September, than any body else -in the country. -One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with -her two elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth -"Lizzy, I never gave you an account of my wedding, I believe. -You were not by, when I told mamma and the others all about it. -Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?" -"No really," replied Elizabeth "I think there cannot be too -little said on the subject." -"La You are so strange But I must tell you how it went off. -We were married, you know, at St. Clement's, because Wickham's -lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we -should all be there by eleven o'clock. My uncle and aunt and -I were to go together and the others were to meet us at the -church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss -I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put -it off, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And -there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and -talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However, I -did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, you may -suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would -be married in his blue coat." -"Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual I thought it -would never be over for, by the bye, you are to understand, -that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I -was with them. If you'll believe me, I did not once put my -foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one -party, or scheme, or anything. To be sure London was rather -thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so -just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away -upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you -know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. -Well, I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my -uncle was to give me away and if we were beyond the hour, we -could not be married all day. But, luckily, he came back again -in ten minutes' time, and then we all set out. However, I -recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented going, -the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done -as well." -"Mr. Darcy" repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement. -"Oh, yeshe was to come there with Wickham, you know. But -gracious me I quite forgot I ought not to have said a word -about it. I promised them so faithfully What will Wickham -say? It was to be such a secret" -"If it was to be secret," said Jane, "say not another word on -the subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further." -"Oh certainly," said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity -"we will ask you no questions." -"Thank you," said Lydia, "for if you did, I should certainly -tell you all, and then Wickham would be angry." -On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it -out of her power, by running away. -But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible or at -least it was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy -had been at her sister's wedding. It was exactly a scene, and -exactly among people, where he had apparently least to do, and -least temptation to go. Conjectures as to the meaning of it, -rapid and wild, hurried into her brain but she was satisfied -with none. Those that best pleased her, as placing his conduct -in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She could not -bear such suspense and hastily seizing a sheet of paper, wrote -a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what -Lydia had dropt, if it were compatible with the secrecy which -had been intended. -"You may readily comprehend," she added, "what my curiosity -must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and -comparatively speaking a stranger to our family, should have -been amongst you at such a time. Pray write instantly, and -let me understand itunless it is, for very cogent reasons, -to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary -and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance." -"Not that I shall, though," she added to herself, as she -finished the letter "and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me -in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks -and stratagems to find it out." -Jane's delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to -Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall Elizabeth was -glad of ittill it appeared whether her inquiries would -receive any satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante. -Chapter -Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her -letter as soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in -possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where -she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of -the benches and prepared to be happy for the length of the -letter convinced her that it did not contain a denial. -"Gracechurch street, Sept. . -"MY DEAR NIECE, -"I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole -morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing -will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess -myself surprised by your application I did not expect it from -you. Don't think me angry, however, for I only mean to let -you know that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary -on your side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive -my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I amand -nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would -have allowed him to act as he has done. But if you are really -innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit. -"On the very day of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a -most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and was shut up with him -several hours. It was all over before I arrived so my curiosity was -not so dreadfully racked as your's seems to have been. He came to -tell Mr. Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and -Mr. Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with them both -Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. From what I can collect, he left -Derbyshire only one day after ourselves, and came to town with the -resolution of hunting for them. The motive professed was his -conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham's worthlessness -had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young -woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed -the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before -thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world. -His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his -duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been -brought on by himself. If he had another motive, I am sure it would -never disgrace him. He had been some days in town, before he was able -to discover them but he had something to direct his search, which was -more than we had and the consciousness of this was another reason for -his resolving to follow us. -"There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago -governess to Miss Darcy, and was dismissed from her charge on some -cause of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a -large house in Edwardstreet, and has since maintained herself by -letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately -acquainted with Wickham and he went to her for intelligence of him as -soon as he got to town. But it was two or three days before he could -get from her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I -suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really did know where -her friend was to be found. Wickham indeed had gone to her on their -first arrival in London, and had she been able to receive them into -her house, they would have taken up their abode with her. At length, -however, our kind friend procured the wishedfor direction. They were -in street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing -Lydia. His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to -persuade her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to -her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, -offering his assistance, as far as it would go. But he found Lydia -absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none of -her friends she wanted no help of his she would not hear of leaving -Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or other, and -it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, it only -remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his -very first conversation with Wickham, he easily learnt had never been -his design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment, on -account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing and -scrupled not to lay all the illconsequences of Lydia's flight on her -own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately and -as to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it. -He must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should -have nothing to live on. -"Mr. Darcy asked him why he had not married your sister at once. -Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been -able to do something for him, and his situation must have been -benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, that -Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making his -fortune by marriage in some other country. Under such circumstances, -however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation of -immediate relief. -"They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. -Wickham of course wanted more than he could get but at length -was reduced to be reasonable. -"Every thing being settled between them, Mr. Darcy's next step was to -make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch -street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not be -seen, and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was -still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not -judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as -your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the -departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next -day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business. -"On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home, -and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together. -"They met again on Sunday, and then I saw him too. It was not all -settled before Monday as soon as it was, the express was sent off to -Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that -obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been -accused of many faults at different times, but this is the true one. -Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself though I am sure -and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it, -your uncle would most readily have settled the whole. -"They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either -the gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved. But at last your -uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use -to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable -credit of it, which went sorely against the grain and I really -believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure, because it -required an explanation that would rob him of his borrowed feathers, -and give the praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no -farther than yourself, or Jane at most. -"You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young -people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to -considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition -to her own settled upon her, and his commission purchased. The reason -why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given -above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper -consideration, that Wickham's character had been so misunderstood, and -consequently that he had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps -there was some truth in this though I doubt whether his reserve, or -anybody's reserve, can be answerable for the event. But in spite of -all this fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured -that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him -credit for another interest in the affair. -"When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who -were still staying at Pemberley but it was agreed that he should be -in London once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters -were then to receive the last finish. -"I believe I have now told you every thing. It is a relation which you -tell me is to give you great surprise I hope at least it will not -afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to us and Wickham had -constant admission to the house. He was exactly what he had been, -when I knew him in Hertfordshire but I would not tell you how little -I was satisfied with her behaviour while she staid with us, if I had -not perceived, by Jane's letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on -coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now -tell you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in -the most serious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of -what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her -family. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did -not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked, but then I recollected my -dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes had patience with her. -"Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and as Lydia informed you, -attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave -town again on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, -my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying what I was never -bold enough to say before how much I like him. His behaviour to us -has, in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. -His understanding and opinions all please me he wants nothing but a -little more liveliness, and that, if he marry prudently, his wife -may teach him. I thought him very slyhe hardly ever mentioned your -name. But slyness seems the fashion. -"Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not -punish me so far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite -happy till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton, with a nice -little pair of ponies, would be the very thing. -"But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half -hour. -"Yours, very sincerely, -"M. GARDINER." -The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter -of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether -pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and -unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of what -Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister's match, -which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness -too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be -just, from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond their -greatest extent to be true He had followed them purposely to -town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification -attendant on such a research in which supplication had been -necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and -where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with, -persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished -to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to -pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could -neither regard nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had -done it for her. But it was a hope shortly checked by other -considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was -insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her -for a woman who had already refused himas able to overcome -a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with -Wickham. Brotherinlaw of Wickham Every kind of pride must -revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. -She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason -for his interference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of -belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong -he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it and -though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, -she could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her -might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind -must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly -painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person -who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of -Lydia, her character, every thing, to him. Oh how heartily -did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever -encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. -For herself she was humbled but she was proud of him. Proud -that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get -the better of himself. She read over her aunt's commendation -of him again and again. It was hardly enough but it pleased -her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with -regret, on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had -been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between -Mr. Darcy and herself. -She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by some -one's approach and before she could strike into another path, -she was overtaken by Wickham. -"I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?" -said he, as he joined her. -"You certainly do," she replied with a smile "but it does not -follow that the interruption must be unwelcome." -"I should be sorry indeed, if it were. We were always good -friends and now we are better." -"True. Are the others coming out?" -"I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the -carriage to Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from -our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Pemberley." -She replied in the affirmative. -"I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would -be too much for me, or else I could take it in my way to -Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor -Reynolds, she was always very fond of me. But of course she -did not mention my name to you." -"Yes, she did." -"And what did she say?" -"That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had -not turned out well. At such a distance as that, you -know, things are strangely misrepresented." -"Certainly," he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she -had silenced him but he soon afterwards said -"I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed -each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing -there." -"Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh," said -Elizabeth. "It must be something particular, to take him there -at this time of year." -"Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? -I thought I understood from the Gardiners that you had." -"Yes he introduced us to his sister." -"And do you like her?" -"Very much." -"I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within -this year or two. When I last saw her, she was not very -promising. I am very glad you liked her. I hope she will turn -out well." -"I dare say she will she has got over the most trying age." -"Did you go by the village of Kympton?" -"I do not recollect that we did." -"I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have -had. A most delightful placeExcellent Parsonage House -It would have suited me in every respect." -"How should you have liked making sermons?" -"Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my -duty, and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought -not to repinebut, to be sure, it would have been such a -thing for me The quiet, the retirement of such a life would -have answered all my ideas of happiness But it was not to be. -Did you ever hear Darcy mention the circumstance, when you were -in Kent?" -"I have heard from authority, which I thought as good, -that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of the -present patron." -"You have. Yes, there was something in that I told you so -from the first, you may remember." -"I did hear, too, that there was a time, when sermonmaking -was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at present that -you actually declared your resolution of never taking orders, -and that the business had been compromised accordingly." -"You did and it was not wholly without foundation. You may -remember what I told you on that point, when first we talked -of it." -They were now almost at the door of the house, for she -had walked fast to get rid of him and unwilling, for her -sister's sake, to provoke him, she only said in reply, with -a goodhumoured smile -"Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. -Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we -shall be always of one mind." -She held out her hand he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, -though he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house. -Chapter -Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation -that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear -sister Elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it and she was -pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet. -The day of his and Lydia's departure soon came, and Mrs. Bennet -was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by -no means entered into her scheme of their all going to -Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth. -"Oh my dear Lydia," she cried, "when shall we meet again?" -"Oh, lord I don't know. Not these two or three years, -perhaps." -"Write to me very often, my dear." -"As often as I can. But you know married women have never much -time for writing. My sisters may write to me. They will -have nothing else to do." -Mr. Wickham's adieus were much more affectionate than his -wife's. He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty -things. -"He is as fine a fellow," said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were -out of the house, "as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and -makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy -even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable -soninlaw." -The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for -several days. -"I often think," said she, "that there is nothing so bad as -parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without -them." -"This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter," -said Elizabeth. "It must make you better satisfied that your -other four are single." -"It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is -married, but only because her husband's regiment happens to be -so far off. If that had been nearer, she would not have gone -so soon." -But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into -was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the -agitation of hope, by an article of news which then began to be -in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield had received -orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming -down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks. -Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and -smiled and shook her head by turns. -"Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister," -for Mrs. Phillips first brought her the news. "Well, so -much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is -nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to -see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come -to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what may -happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we -agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, -is it quite certain he is coming?" -"You may depend on it," replied the other, "for Mrs. Nicholls -was in Meryton last night I saw her passing by, and went out -myself on purpose to know the truth of it and she told me that -it was certain true. He comes down on Thursday at the latest, -very likely on Wednesday. She was going to the butcher's, she -told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she -has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed." -Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without -changing colour. It was many months since she had mentioned -his name to Elizabeth but now, as soon as they were alone -together, she said -"I saw you look at me today, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of -the present report and I know I appeared distressed. But -don't imagine it was from any silly cause. I was only confused -for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at. -I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with -pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone -because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of -myself, but I dread other people's remarks." -Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen -him in Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of -coming there with no other view than what was acknowledged but -she still thought him partial to Jane, and she wavered as to -the greater probability of his coming there with his friend's -permission, or being bold enough to come without it. -"Yet it is hard," she sometimes thought, "that this poor man -cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without -raising all this speculation I will leave him to himself." -In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be -her feelings in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could -easily perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They -were more disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen them. -The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their -parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward -again. -"As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, -"you will wait on him of course." -"No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and -promised, if I went to see him, he should marry one of my -daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on -a fool's errand again." -His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an -attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his -returning to Netherfield. -"'Tis an etiquette I despise," said he. "If he wants our -society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not -spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they -go away and come back again." -"Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do -not wait on him. But, however, that shan't prevent my asking -him to dine here, I am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and -the Gouldings soon. That will make thirteen with ourselves, so -there will be just room at table for him." -Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear -her husband's incivility though it was very mortifying to know -that her neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence -of it, before they did. As the day of his arrival drew near -"I begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said Jane to her -sister. "It would be nothing I could see him with perfect -indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually -talked of. My mother means well but she does not know, no one -can know, how much I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I -be, when his stay at Netherfield is over" -"I wish I could say anything to comfort you," replied Elizabeth -"but it is wholly out of my power. You must feel it and the -usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied -me, because you have always so much." -Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of -servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that -the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side might be as -long as it could. She counted the days that must intervene -before their invitation could be sent hopeless of seeing -him before. But on the third morning after his arrival in -Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressingroom window, -enter the paddock and ride towards the house. -Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane -resolutely kept her place at the table but Elizabeth, to -satisfy her mother, went to the windowshe looked,she -saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down again by her sister. -"There is a gentleman with him, mamma," said Kitty "who can it be?" -"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose I am sure I -do not know." -"La" replied Kitty, "it looks just like that man that used to -be with him before. Mr. what'shisname. That tall, proud -man." -"Good gracious Mr. Darcyand so it does, I vow. Well, -any friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be -sure but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him." -Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew -but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt -for the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him -almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory -letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. Each felt -for the other, and of course for themselves and their mother -talked on, of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution -to be civil to him only as Mr. Bingley's friend, without -being heard by either of them. But Elizabeth had sources of -uneasiness which could not be suspected by Jane, to whom she -had never yet had courage to shew Mrs. Gardiner's letter, or -to relate her own change of sentiment towards him. To Jane, -he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, and -whose merit she had undervalued but to her own more extensive -information, he was the person to whom the whole family were -indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded -herself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least -as reasonable and just as what Jane felt for Bingley. Her -astonishment at his comingat his coming to Netherfield, to -Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal -to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour -in Derbyshire. -The colour which had been driven from her face, returned for -half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight -added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time -that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken. But she -would not be secure. -"Let me first see how he behaves," said she "it will then be -early enough for expectation." -She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without -daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them -to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the -door. Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate -than Elizabeth had expected. On the gentlemen's appearing, her -colour increased yet she received them with tolerable ease, -and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom -of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance. -Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and -sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not -often command. She had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He -looked serious, as usual and, she thought, more as he had been -used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at -Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother's presence -be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, -but not an improbable, conjecture. -Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that -short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He -was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which -made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with -the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address -to his friend. -Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the -latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from -irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful -degree by a distinction so ill applied. -Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a -question which she could not answer without confusion, said -scarcely anything. He was not seated by her perhaps that -was the reason of his silence but it had not been so in -Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends, when he could -not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed without -bringing the sound of his voice and when occasionally, unable -to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised he eyes to his -face, she as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and -frequently on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness -and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were -plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with -herself for being so. -"Could I expect it to be otherwise" said she. "Yet why did -he come?" -She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself -and to him she had hardly courage to speak. -She inquired after his sister, but could do no more. -"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said -Mrs. Bennet. -He readily agreed to it. -"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People -did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas -but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have -happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas -is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose -you have heard of it indeed, you must have seen it in the -papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know though -it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, 'Lately, -George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without there being -a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or -anything. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I -wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did -you see it?" -Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. -Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, -therefore, she could not tell. -"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter -well married," continued her mother, "but at the same time, -Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from -me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, -it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. -His regiment is there for I suppose you have heard of his -leaving the shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. -Thank Heaven he has some friends, though perhaps not so -many as he deserves." -Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was -in such misery of shame, that she could hardly keep her seat. -It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which -nothing else had so effectually done before and she asked -Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at -present. A few weeks, he believed. -"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley," -said her mother, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as -many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he -will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the -best of the covies for you." -Elizabeth's misery increased, at such unnecessary, such -officious attention Were the same fair prospect to arise at -present as had flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was -persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. -At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not -make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful -confusion. -"The first wish of my heart," said she to herself, "is never -more to be in company with either of them. Their society can -afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as -this Let me never see either one or the other again" -Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no -compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from -observing how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the -admiration of her former lover. When first he came in, he had -spoken to her but little but every five minutes seemed to be -giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as -she had been last year as good natured, and as unaffected, -though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no difference -should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that -she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged, -that she did not always know when she was silent. -When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of -her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to -dine at Longbourn in a few days time. -"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, -"for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take -a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not -forgot, you see and I assure you, I was very much disappointed -that you did not come back and keep your engagement." -Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said -something of his concern at having been prevented by business. -They then went away. -Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and -dine there that day but, though she always kept a very good -table, she did not think anything less than two courses could -be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, -or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a -year. -Chapter -As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover -her spirits or in other words, to dwell without interruption -on those subjects that must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy's -behaviour astonished and vexed her. -"Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent," -said she, "did he come at all?" -She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure. -"He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and -aunt, when he was in town and why not to me? If he fears me, -why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? -Teasing, teasing, man I will think no more about him." -Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by -the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful -look, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors, -than Elizabeth. -"Now," said she, "that this first meeting is over, I feel -perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be -embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on -Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, -we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance." -"Yes, very indifferent indeed," said Elizabeth, laughingly. -"Oh, Jane, take care." -"My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger -now?" -"I think you are in very great danger of making him as much -in love with you as ever." -They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday and -Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the -happy schemes, which the good humour and common politeness -of Bingley, in half an hour's visit, had revived. -On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn -and the two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of -their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When -they repaired to the diningroom, Elizabeth eagerly watched to -see whether Bingley would take the place, which, in all their -former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her -prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite -him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to -hesitate but Jane happened to look round, and happened to -smile it was decided. He placed himself by her. -Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his -friend. He bore it with noble indifference, and she would have -imagined that Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, -had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, -with an expression of halflaughing alarm. -His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner time, as -showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than -formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself, -Jane's happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured. -Though she dared not depend upon the consequence, she yet -received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her -all the animation that her spirits could boast for she was in -no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as -the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. -She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to -either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near -enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how -seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was -their manner whenever they did. Her mother's ungraciousness, -made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth's -mind and she would, at times, have given anything to be -privileged to tell him that his kindness was neither unknown -nor unfelt by the whole of the family. -She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity -of bringing them together that the whole of the visit would -not pass away without enabling them to enter into something -more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation -attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the period which -passed in the drawingroom, before the gentlemen came, was -wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil. -She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all -her chance of pleasure for the evening must depend. -"If he does not come to me, then," said she, "I shall give -him up for ever." -The gentlemen came and she thought he looked as if he would -have answered her hopes but, alas the ladies had crowded -round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea, and -Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy -that there was not a single vacancy near her which would admit -of a chair. And on the gentlemen's approaching, one of the -girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper -"The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want -none of them do we?" -Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She -followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, -had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee and -then was enraged against herself for being so silly -"A man who has once been refused How could I ever be foolish -enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the -sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second -proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent -to their feelings" -She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his -coffee cup himself and she seized the opportunity of saying -"Is your sister at Pemberley still?" -"Yes, she will remain there till Christmas." -"And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?" -"Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to -Scarborough, these three weeks." -She could think of nothing more to say but if he wished to -converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by -her, however, for some minutes, in silence and, at last, on -the young lady's whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away. -When the teathings were removed, and the cardtables placed, -the ladies all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon -joined by him, when all her views were overthrown by seeing him -fall a victim to her mother's rapacity for whist players, and -in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. She -now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for -the evening at different tables, and she had nothing to hope, -but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the -room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself. -Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen -to supper but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any -of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them. -"Well girls," said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, -"What say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off -uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed -as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turnand -everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was -fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases' last week -and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were -remarkably well done and I suppose he has two or three French -cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in -greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether -you did not. And what do you think she said besides? 'Ah Mrs. -Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last.' She did -indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever -livedand her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not -at all handsome I like them prodigiously." -Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits she had seen -enough of Bingley's behaviour to Jane, to be convinced that she -would get him at last and her expectations of advantage to her -family, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that -she was quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the -next day, to make his proposals. -"It has been a very agreeable day," said Miss Bennet to -Elizabeth. "The party seemed so well selected, so suitable -one with the other. I hope we may often meet again." -Elizabeth smiled. -"Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It -mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy -his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, -without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, -from what his manners now are, that he never had any design -of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed -with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of -generally pleasing, than any other man." -"You are very cruel," said her sister, "you will not let me -smile, and are provoking me to it every moment." -"How hard it is in some cases to be believed" -"And how impossible in others" -"But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I -acknowledge?" -"That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all -love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth -knowing. Forgive me and if you persist in indifference, do -not make me your confidante." -Chapter -A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and -alone. His friend had left him that morning for London, but -was to return home in ten days time. He sat with them above an -hour, and was in remarkably good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited -him to dine with them but, with many expressions of concern, -he confessed himself engaged elsewhere. -"Next time you call," said she, "I hope we shall be more -lucky." -He should be particularly happy at any time, etc. etc. and if -she would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of -waiting on them. -"Can you come tomorrow?" -Yes, he had no engagement at all for tomorrow and her -invitation was accepted with alacrity. -He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none -of them dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter's room, in -her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out -"My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is comeMr. -Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. -Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her -on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair." -"We will be down as soon as we can," said Jane "but I dare say -Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs -half an hour ago." -"Oh hang Kitty what has she to do with it? Come be quick, -be quick Where is your sash, my dear?" -But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to -go down without one of her sisters. -The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again -in the evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, -as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument. -Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet -sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a -considerable time, without making any impression on them. -Elizabeth would not observe her and when at last Kitty did, -she very innocently said, "What is the matter mamma? What do -you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?" -"Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you." She then sat -still five minutes longer but unable to waste such a precious -occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, "Come here, -my love, I want to speak to you," took her out of the room. -Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her -distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that she -would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs. Bennet -halfopened the door and called out -"Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you." -Elizabeth was forced to go. -"We may as well leave them by themselves you know" said her -mother, as soon as she was in the hall. "Kitty and I are going -upstairs to sit in my dressingroom." -Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but -remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of -sight, then returned into the drawingroom. -Mrs. Bennet's schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley -was every thing that was charming, except the professed lover -of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a -most agreeable addition to their evening party and he bore -with the illjudged officiousness of the mother, and heard all -her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance -particularly grateful to the daughter. -He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper and before he -went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own -and Mrs. Bennet's means, for his coming next morning to shoot -with her husband. -After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. -Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley -but Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all must -speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the -stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably persuaded -that all this must have taken place with that gentleman's -concurrence. -Bingley was punctual to his appointment and he and Mr. Bennet -spent the morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter -was much more agreeable than his companion expected. There was -nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley that could provoke -his ridicule, or disgust him into silence and he was more -communicative, and less eccentric, than the other had ever seen -him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner and in the -evening Mrs. Bennet's invention was again at work to get every -body away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a -letter to write, went into the breakfast room for that purpose -soon after tea for as the others were all going to sit down to -cards, she could not be wanted to counteract her mother's -schemes. -But on returning to the drawingroom, when her letter was -finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was -reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for -her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and -Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in -earnest conversation and had this led to no suspicion, the -faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away -from each other, would have told it all. Their situation -was awkward enough but her's she thought was still worse. -Not a syllable was uttered by either and Elizabeth was on -the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as well as -the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few -words to her sister, ran out of the room. -Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence -would give pleasure and instantly embracing her, acknowledged, -with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature -in the world. -"'Tis too much" she added, "by far too much. I do not -deserve it. Oh why is not everybody as happy?" -Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a sincerity, a -warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every -sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. -But she would not allow herself to stay with her sister, or say -half that remained to be said for the present. -"I must go instantly to my mother" she cried. "I would not on -any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude or allow -her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to my -father already. Oh Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate -will give such pleasure to all my dear family how shall I -bear so much happiness" -She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken -up the card party, and was sitting up stairs with Kitty. -Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity -and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that had -given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation. -"And this," said she, "is the end of all his friend's anxious -circumspection of all his sister's falsehood and contrivance -the happiest, wisest, most reasonable end" -In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference -with her father had been short and to the purpose. -"Where is your sister?" said he hastily, as he opened the door. -"With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment, -I dare say." -He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good -wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and -heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their -relationship. They shook hands with great cordiality and -then, till her sister came down, she had to listen to all he -had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane's perfections -and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed -all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, -because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and -superexcellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity -of feeling and taste between her and himself. -It was an evening of no common delight to them all the -satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet -animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever. -Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was coming soon. -Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent or speak her approbation -in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked -to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour and when Mr. -Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly -showed how really happy he was. -Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till -their visitor took his leave for the night but as soon as he -was gone, he turned to his daughter, and said -"Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman." -Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his -goodness. -"You are a good girl" he replied, "and I have great pleasure -in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt -of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means -unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will -ever be resolved on so easy, that every servant will cheat -you and so generous, that you will always exceed your income." -"I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters -would be unpardonable in me." -"Exceed their income My dear Mr. Bennet," cried his wife, -"what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a -year, and very likely more." Then addressing her daughter, -"Oh my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy I am sure I shan't -get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I -always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not -be so beautiful for nothing I remember, as soon as ever I saw -him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought -how likely it was that you should come together. Oh he is -the handsomest young man that ever was seen" -Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition -her favourite child. At that moment, she cared for no other. Her -younger sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects -of happiness which she might in future be able to dispense. -Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield and -Kitty begged very hard for a few balls there every winter. -Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at -Longbourn coming frequently before breakfast, and always -remaining till after supper unless when some barbarous -neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him -an invitation to dinner which he thought himself obliged to -accept. -Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her -sister for while he was present, Jane had no attention to -bestow on anyone else but she found herself considerably -useful to both of them in those hours of separation that must -sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always attached -himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of talking of her and -when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means -of relief. -"He has made me so happy," said she, one evening, "by telling -me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last -spring I had not believed it possible." -"I suspected as much," replied Elizabeth. "But how did he -account for it?" -"It must have been his sister's doing. They were certainly no -friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, -since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many -respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, that their -brother is happy with me, they will learn to be contented, and -we shall be on good terms again though we can never be what we -once were to each other." -"That is the most unforgiving speech," said Elizabeth, "that -I ever heard you utter. Good girl It would vex me, indeed, -to see you again the dupe of Miss Bingley's pretended regard." -"Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last -November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of -my being indifferent would have prevented his coming down -again" -"He made a little mistake to be sure but it is to the credit -of his modesty." -This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his -diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good -qualities. Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not -betrayed the interference of his friend for, though Jane had -the most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew -it was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him. -"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed" -cried Jane. "Oh Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, -and blessed above them all If I could but see you as happy -If there were but such another man for you" -"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so -happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, -I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for -myself and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet -with another Mr. Collins in time." -The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be -long a secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to -Mrs. Phillips, and she ventured, without any permission, to do -the same by all her neighbours in Meryton. -The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family -in the world, though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had -first run away, they had been generally proved to be marked out -for misfortune. -Chapter -One morning, about a week after Bingley's engagement with -Jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family -were sitting together in the diningroom, their attention -was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage -and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn. -It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the -equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. -The horses were post and neither the carriage, nor the livery -of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. As it -was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Bingley -instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid the confinement of -such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery. -They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three -continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was -thrown open and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine -de Bourgh. -They were of course all intending to be surprised but their -astonishment was beyond their expectation and on the part of -Mrs. Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to -them, even inferior to what Elizabeth felt. -She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, -made no other reply to Elizabeth's salutation than a slight -inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word. -Elizabeth had mentioned her name to her mother on her ladyship's -entrance, though no request of introduction had been made. -Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a -guest of such high importance, received her with the utmost -politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, she said -very stiffly to Elizabeth, -"I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, -is your mother." -Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was. -"And that I suppose is one of your sisters." -"Yes, madam," said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady -Catherine. "She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of -all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the -grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon -become a part of the family." -"You have a very small park here," returned Lady Catherine -after a short silence. -"It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say -but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas's." -"This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, -in summer the windows are full west." -Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner, -and then added -"May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you -left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well." -"Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last." -Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for -her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for -her calling. But no letter appeared, and she was completely -puzzled. -Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take -some refreshment but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not -very politely, declined eating anything and then, rising up, -said to Elizabeth, -"Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little -wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take -a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company." -"Go, my dear," cried her mother, "and show her ladyship about -the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the -hermitage." -Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her -parasol, attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed -through the hall, Lady Catherine opened the doors into the -diningparlour and drawingroom, and pronouncing them, after -a short survey, to be decent looking rooms, walked on. -Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her -waitingwoman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the -gravel walk that led to the copse Elizabeth was determined to -make no effort for conversation with a woman who was now more -than usually insolent and disagreeable. -"How could I ever think her like her nephew?" said she, as she -looked in her face. -As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the -following manner -"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason -of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, -must tell you why I come." -Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment. -"Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able -to account for the honour of seeing you here." -"Miss Bennet," replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, "you -ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however -insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. -My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and -frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall -certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming -nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your -sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, -but that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all -likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own -nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous -falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose -the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off -for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you." -"If you believed it impossible to be true," said Elizabeth, -colouring with astonishment and disdain, "I wonder you took the -trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by -it?" -"At once to insist upon having such a report universally -contradicted." -"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," said -Elizabeth coolly, "will be rather a confirmation of it if, -indeed, such a report is in existence." -"If Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not -been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know -that such a report is spread abroad?" -"I never heard that it was." -"And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation -for it?" -"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. -You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer." -"This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being -satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of -marriage?" -"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible." -"It ought to be so it must be so, while he retains the use of -his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment -of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself -and to all his family. You may have drawn him in." -"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it." -"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed -to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has -in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns." -"But you are not entitled to know mine nor will such behaviour -as this, ever induce me to be explicit." -"Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have -the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. -Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?" -"Only this that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose -he will make an offer to me." -Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied -"The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their -infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the -favourite wish of his mother, as well as of her's. While in -their cradles, we planned the union and now, at the moment -when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their -marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, -of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the -family Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? -To his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to -every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard -me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his -cousin?" -"Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If -there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall -certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and -aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much -as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended -on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination -confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? -And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?" -"Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. -Yes, Miss Bennet, interest for do not expect to be noticed -by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the -inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and -despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will -be a disgrace your name will never even be mentioned by any -of us." -"These are heavy misfortunes," replied Elizabeth. "But the -wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of -happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she -could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine." -"Obstinate, headstrong girl I am ashamed of you Is this -your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is -nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to -understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined -resolution of carrying my purpose nor will I be dissuaded -from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. -I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment." -"That will make your ladyship's situation at present more -pitiable but it will have no effect on me." -"I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter -and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, -on the maternal side, from the same noble line and, on the -father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancientthough -untitledfamilies. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. -They are destined for each other by the voice of every member -of their respective houses and what is to divide them? -The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, -connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured But it -must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own -good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you -have been brought up." -"In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as -quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman I am a gentleman's -daughter so far we are equal." -"True. You are a gentleman's daughter. But who was your -mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me -ignorant of their condition." -"Whatever my connections may be," said Elizabeth, "if your -nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you." -"Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?" -Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging -Lady Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but -say, after a moment's deliberation -"I am not." -Lady Catherine seemed pleased. -"And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?" -"I will make no promise of the kind." -"Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a -more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into -a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you -have given me the assurance I require." -"And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be intimidated -into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants -Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter but would my giving you the -wishedfor promise make their marriage at all more probable? -Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept -his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to -say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have -supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous -as the application was illjudged. You have widely mistaken my -character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions -as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference -in his affairs, I cannot tell but you have certainly no right -to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be -importuned no farther on the subject." -"Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. -To all the objections I have already urged, I have still -another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your -youngest sister's infamous elopement. I know it all that -the young man's marrying her was a patchedup business, at the -expence of your father and uncles. And is such a girl to be -my nephew's sister? Is her husband, is the son of his late -father's steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earthof -what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be -thus polluted?" -"You can now have nothing further to say," she resentfully -answered. "You have insulted me in every possible method. -I must beg to return to the house." -And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they -turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed. -"You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my -nephew Unfeeling, selfish girl Do you not consider that -a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of -everybody?" -"Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my -sentiments." -"You are then resolved to have him?" -"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that -manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, -without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected -with me." -"It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to -obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are -determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends, -and make him the contempt of the world." -"Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude," replied Elizabeth, -"have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No -principle of either would be violated by my marriage with -Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the resentment of his family, or -the indignation of the world, if the former were excited by his -marrying me, it would not give me one moment's concernand -the world in general would have too much sense to join in the -scorn." -"And this is your real opinion This is your final resolve -Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss -Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to -try you. I hoped to find you reasonable but, depend upon it, -I will carry my point." -In this manner Lady Catherine talked on, till they were at the -door of the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added, -"I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to -your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most -seriously displeased." -Elizabeth made no answer and without attempting to persuade -her ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it -herself. She heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded -up stairs. Her mother impatiently met her at the door of the -dressingroom, to ask why Lady Catherine would not come in -again and rest herself. -"She did not choose it," said her daughter, "she would go." -"She is a very finelooking woman and her calling here was -prodigiously civil for she only came, I suppose, to tell us -the Collinses were well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare -say, and so, passing through Meryton, thought she might as well -call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to -you, Lizzy?" -Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here -for to acknowledge the substance of their conversation was -impossible. -Chapter -The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit -threw Elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome nor -could she, for many hours, learn to think of it less than -incessantly. Lady Catherine, it appeared, had actually taken -the trouble of this journey from Rosings, for the sole purpose -of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was -a rational scheme, to be sure but from what the report of -their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to -imagine till she recollected that his being the intimate -friend of Bingley, and her being the sister of Jane, was -enough, at a time when the expectation of one wedding made -everybody eager for another, to supply the idea. She had not -herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her sister must -bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at -Lucas Lodge, therefore for through their communication with -the Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached lady -Catherine, had only set that down as almost certain and -immediate, which she had looked forward to as possible at -some future time. -In revolving Lady Catherine's expressions, however, she could -not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence -of her persisting in this interference. From what she had said -of her resolution to prevent their marriage, it occurred to -Elizabeth that she must meditate an application to her nephew -and how he might take a similar representation of the evils -attached to a connection with her, she dared not pronounce. -She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or -his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose -that he thought much higher of her ladyship than she could -do and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a -marriage with one, whose immediate connections were so unequal -to his own, his aunt would address him on his weakest side. -With his notions of dignity, he would probably feel that the -arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous, -contained much good sense and solid reasoning. -If he had been wavering before as to what he should do, which -had often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a -relation might settle every doubt, and determine him at once to -be as happy as dignity unblemished could make him. In that -case he would return no more. Lady Catherine might see him in -her way through town and his engagement to Bingley of coming -again to Netherfield must give way. -"If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should -come to his friend within a few days," she added, "I shall -know how to understand it. I shall then give over every -expectation, every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied -with only regretting me, when he might have obtained my -affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him at all." -The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their -visitor had been, was very great but they obligingly satisfied -it, with the same kind of supposition which had appeased -Mrs. Bennet's curiosity and Elizabeth was spared from much -teasing on the subject. -The next morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by -her father, who came out of his library with a letter in his -hand. -"Lizzy," said he, "I was going to look for you come into my -room." -She followed him thither and her curiosity to know what he -had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being -in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly -struck her that it might be from Lady Catherine and she -anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations. -She followed her father to the fire place, and they both sat -down. He then said, -"I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me -exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought -to know its contents. I did not know before, that I had two -daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate you -on a very important conquest." -The colour now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks in the instantaneous -conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the -aunt and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that -he explained himself at all, or offended that his letter was not -rather addressed to herself when her father continued -"You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in -such matters as these but I think I may defy even your -sagacity, to discover the name of your admirer. This letter -is from Mr. Collins." -"From Mr. Collins and what can he have to say?" -"Something very much to the purpose of course. He begins with -congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, -of which, it seems, he has been told by some of the goodnatured, -gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience, by -reading what he says on that point. What relates to yourself, is -as follows 'Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations -of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add -a short hint on the subject of another of which we have been -advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is -presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder -sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be -reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages -in this land.' -"Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?" 'This -young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with every thing -the heart of mortal can most desire,splendid property, -noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all -these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and -yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure -with this gentleman's proposals, which, of course, you will be -inclined to take immediate advantage of.' -"Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it -comes out -"'My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to -imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look -on the match with a friendly eye.' -"Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man Now, Lizzy, I think I -have surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched -on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name -would have given the lie more effectually to what they related? -Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, -and who probably never looked at you in his life It is -admirable" -Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleasantry, but could -only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been -directed in a manner so little agreeable to her. -"Are you not diverted?" -"Oh yes. Pray read on." -"'After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship -last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, -expressed what she felt on the occasion when it became apparent, -that on the score of some family objections on the part of my -cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so -disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest -intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble -admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run -hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.' -Mr. Collins moreover adds, 'I am truly rejoiced that my cousin -Lydia's sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only -concerned that their living together before the marriage took -place should be so generally known. I must not, however, -neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my -amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into -your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement -of vice and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very -strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them, -as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow -their names to be mentioned in your hearing.' That is his notion -of Christian forgiveness The rest of his letter is only about -his dear Charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a young -olivebranch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. -You are not going to be missish, I hope, and pretend to be -affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make -sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?" -"Oh" cried Elizabeth, "I am excessively diverted. But it is -so strange" -"Yesthat is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other -man it would have been nothing but his perfect indifference, -and your pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd Much -as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins's -correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter -of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham, -much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my soninlaw. -And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine about this report? -Did she call to refuse her consent?" -To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh and -as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she was not -distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been -more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. -It was necessary to laugh, when she would rather have cried. -Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he said of -Mr. Darcy's indifference, and she could do nothing but wonder -at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead -of his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much. -Chapter -Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, -as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to -bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed -after Lady Catherine's visit. The gentlemen arrived early -and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having -seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, -Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their -all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in -the habit of walking Mary could never spare time but the -remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, -soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, -while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. -Very little was said by either Kitty was too much afraid of -him to talk Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate -resolution and perhaps he might be doing the same. -They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished to call -upon Maria and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a -general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with -him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be -executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately -said -"Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature and, for the sake of -giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be -wounding your's. I can no longer help thanking you for your -unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have -known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how -gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, -I should not have merely my own gratitude to express." -"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied Darcy, in a tone of -surprise and emotion, "that you have ever been informed of what -may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not -think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted." -"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first -betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter and, -of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let -me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, -for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much -trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of -discovering them." -"If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself -alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add -force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not -attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as -I respect them, I believe I thought only of you." -Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a -short pause, her companion added, "You are too generous to -trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were -last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes -are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this -subject for ever." -Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and -anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak and -immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand -that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since -the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with -gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness -which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never -felt before and he expressed himself on the occasion as -sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be -supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his -eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt -delight, diffused over his face, became him but, though she -could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, -which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his -affection every moment more valuable. -They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was -too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to -any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted -for their present good understanding to the efforts of his -aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, -and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and -the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth dwelling -emphatically on every expression of the latter which, in her -ladyship's apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness -and assurance in the belief that such a relation must assist -her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which -she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her ladyship, -its effect had been exactly contrariwise. -"It taught me to hope," said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed -myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to -be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided -against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, -frankly and openly." -Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know -enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. -After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no -scruple in abusing you to all your relations." -"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though -your accusations were illfounded, formed on mistaken premises, -my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest -reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without -abhorrence." -"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to -that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if -strictly examined, will be irreproachable but since then, we -have both, I hope, improved in civility." -"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection -of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions -during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, -inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I -shall never forget 'had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike -manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can -scarcely conceive, how they have tortured methough it was -some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow -their justice." -"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong -an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever -felt in such a way." -"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of -every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your -countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could -not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce -you to accept me." -"Oh do not repeat what I then said. These recollections -will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most -heartily ashamed of it." -Darcy mentioned his letter. "Did it," said he, "did it soon -make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any -credit to its contents?" -She explained what its effect on her had been, and how gradually -all her former prejudices had been removed. -"I knew," said he, "that what I wrote must give you pain, -but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. -There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I -should dread your having the power of reading again. I can -remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me." -"The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it -essential to the preservation of my regard but, though we have -both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they -are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies." -"When I wrote that letter," replied Darcy, "I believed myself -perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was -written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit." -"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end -so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the -letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person -who received it, are now so widely different from what they -were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it -ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. -Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure." -"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. -Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that -the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, -what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not -so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which -ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my -life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was -taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my -temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them -in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son for many -years an only child, I was spoilt by my parents, who, though -good themselves my father, particularly, all that was -benevolent and amiable, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me -to be selfish and overbearing to care for none beyond my own -family circle to think meanly of all the rest of the world -to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth -compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and -twenty and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, -loveliest Elizabeth What do I not owe you You taught me a -lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, -I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my -reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my -pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased." -"Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?" -"Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed -you to be wishing, expecting my addresses." -"My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, -I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits -might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after -that evening?" -"Hate you I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon -began to take a proper direction." -"I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we -met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?" -"No indeed I felt nothing but surprise." -"Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being -noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no -extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect -to receive more than my due." -"My object then," replied Darcy, "was to show you, by every -civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the -past and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your -ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been -attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves -I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after -I had seen you." -He then told her of Georgiana's delight in her acquaintance, -and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption which -naturally leading to the cause of that interruption, she soon -learnt that his resolution of following her from Derbyshire in -quest of her sister had been formed before he quitted the inn, -and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there had arisen from -no other struggles than what such a purpose must comprehend. -She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a -subject to each, to be dwelt on farther. -After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy -to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining -their watches, that it was time to be at home. -"What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane" was a wonder -which introduced the discussion of their affairs. Darcy -was delighted with their engagement his friend had given -him the earliest information of it. -"I must ask whether you were surprised?" said Elizabeth. -"Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon -happen." -"That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as -much." And though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it -had been pretty much the case. -"On the evening before my going to London," said he, "I made a -confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long -ago. I told him of all that had occurred to make my former -interference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His -surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. -I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in -supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to -him and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her -was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together." -Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of -directing his friend. -"Did you speak from your own observation," said she, "when -you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my -information last spring?" -"From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two -visits which I had lately made here and I was convinced of her -affection." -"And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate -conviction to him." -"It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence -had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious -a case, but his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I -was obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and not -unjustly, offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal -that your sister had been in town three months last winter, -that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was -angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than -he remained in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. He has -heartily forgiven me now." -Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most -delightful friend so easily guided that his worth was -invaluable but she checked herself. She remembered that he -had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early -to begin. In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, which of -course was to be inferior only to his own, he continued the -conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they -parted. -Chapter -"My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?" was a -question which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she -entered their room, and from all the others when they sat down -to table. She had only to say in reply, that they had wandered -about, till she was beyond her own knowledge. She coloured as -she spoke but neither that, nor anything else, awakened a -suspicion of the truth. -The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. -The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the unacknowledged -were silent. Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness -overflows in mirth and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather -knew that she was happy than felt herself to be so for, besides -the immediate embarrassment, there were other evils before her. -She anticipated what would be felt in the family when her -situation became known she was aware that no one liked him but -Jane and even feared that with the others it was a dislike -which not all his fortune and consequence might do away. -At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was -very far from Miss Bennet's general habits, she was absolutely -incredulous here. -"You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot beengaged to Mr. Darcy -No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible." -"This is a wretched beginning indeed My sole dependence was -on you and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do -not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the -truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged." -Jane looked at her doubtingly. "Oh, Lizzy it cannot be. -I know how much you dislike him." -"You know nothing of the matter. That is all to be forgot. -Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in -such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is -the last time I shall ever remember it myself." -Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and -more seriously assured her of its truth. -"Good Heaven can it be really so Yet now I must believe -you," cried Jane. "My dear, dear Lizzy, I wouldI do -congratulate youbut are you certain? forgive the question -are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?" -"There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us -already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world. -But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a -brother?" -"Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or -myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as -impossible. And do you really love him quite well enough? -Oh, Lizzy do anything rather than marry without affection. -Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?" -"Oh, yes You will only think I feel more than I ought to -do, when I tell you all." -"What do you mean?" -"Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. -I am afraid you will be angry." -"My dearest sister, now be serious. I want to talk very -seriously. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without -delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?" -"It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it -began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his -beautiful grounds at Pemberley." -Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced -the desired effect and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn -assurances of attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss -Bennet had nothing further to wish. -"Now I am quite happy," said she, "for you will be as happy as -myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but -his love of you, I must always have esteemed him but now, as -Bingley's friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley -and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very -sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what -passed at Pemberley and Lambton I owe all that I know of it -to another, not to you." -Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been -unwilling to mention Bingley and the unsettled state of her -own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of his friend. -But now she would no longer conceal from her his share in -Lydia's marriage. All was acknowledged, and half the night -spent in conversation. -"Good gracious" cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window -the next morning, "if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming -here again with our dear Bingley What can he mean by being so -tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he -would go ashooting, or something or other, and not disturb us -with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must -walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley's way." -Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a -proposal yet was really vexed that her mother should be -always giving him such an epithet. -As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, -and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good -information and he soon afterwards said aloud, "Mrs. Bennet, -have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her -way again today?" -"I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty," said Mrs. Bennet, -"to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, -and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view." -"It may do very well for the others," replied Mr. Bingley "but -I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won't it, Kitty?" -Kitty owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed -a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth -silently consented. As she went up stairs to get ready, -Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying -"I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have -that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not -mind it it is all for Jane's sake, you know and there is no -occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do -not put yourself to inconvenience." -During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet's consent -should be asked in the course of the evening. Elizabeth -reserved to herself the application for her mother's. She -could not determine how her mother would take it sometimes -doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur would be enough -to overcome her abhorrence of the man. But whether she were -violently set against the match, or violently delighted with -it, it was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted -to do credit to her sense and she could no more bear that -Mr. Darcy should hear the first raptures of her joy, than the -first vehemence of her disapprobation. -In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, -she saw Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation -on seeing it was extreme. She did not fear her father's -opposition, but he was going to be made unhappy and that it -should be through her meansthat she, his favourite child, -should be distressing him by her choice, should be filling him -with fears and regrets in disposing of herwas a wretched -reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared -again, when, looking at him, she was a little relieved by his -smile. In a few minutes he approached the table where she was -sitting with Kitty and, while pretending to admire her work -said in a whisper, "Go to your father, he wants you in the -library." She was gone directly. -Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and -anxious. "Lizzy," said he, "what are you doing? Are you out -of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always -hated him?" -How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had -been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate It would -have spared her from explanations and professions which it was -exceedingly awkward to give but they were now necessary, and -she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to -Mr. Darcy. -"Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is -rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine -carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?" -"Have you any other objection," said Elizabeth, "than your -belief of my indifference?" -"None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort -of man but this would be nothing if you really liked him." -"I do, I do like him," she replied, with tears in her eyes, -"I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly -amiable. You do not know what he really is then pray do not -pain me by speaking of him in such terms." -"Lizzy," said her father, "I have given him my consent. -He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare -refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it -to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise -you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. -I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless -you truly esteemed your husband unless you looked up to him -as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the -greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely -escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the -grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. -You know not what you are about." -Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her -reply and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was -really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual -change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her -absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a -day, but had stood the test of many months' suspense, and -enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer -her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the match. -"Well, my dear," said he, when she ceased speaking, "I have no -more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could -not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy." -To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what -Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with -astonishment. -"This is an evening of wonders, indeed And so, Darcy did -every thing made up the match, gave the money, paid the -fellow's debts, and got him his commission So much the -better. It will save me a world of trouble and economy. -Had it been your uncle's doing, I must and would have paid -him but these violent young lovers carry every thing their -own way. I shall offer to pay him tomorrow he will rant -and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end -of the matter." -He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his -reading Mr. Collins's letter and after laughing at her some -time, allowed her at last to gosaying, as she quitted the -room, "If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, -for I am quite at leisure." -Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight -and, after half an hour's quiet reflection in her own room, -she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. -Every thing was too recent for gaiety, but the evening passed -tranquilly away there was no longer anything material to -be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would -come in time. -When her mother went up to her dressingroom at night, she -followed her, and made the important communication. Its effect -was most extraordinary for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet -sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it -under many, many minutes that she could comprehend what she -heard though not in general backward to credit what was for -the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a -lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to -fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, -and bless herself. -"Good gracious Lord bless me only think dear me -Mr. Darcy Who would have thought it And is it really true? -Oh my sweetest Lizzy how rich and how great you will be -What pinmoney, what jewels, what carriages you will have -Jane's is nothing to itnothing at all. I am so pleasedso -happy. Such a charming manso handsome so tallOh, my -dear Lizzy pray apologise for my having disliked him so much -before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house -in town Every thing that is charming Three daughters -married Ten thousand a year Oh, Lord What will become of -me. I shall go distracted." -This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be -doubted and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was -heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had -been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her. -"My dearest child," she cried, "I can think of nothing else -Ten thousand a year, and very likely more 'Tis as good as a -Lord And a special licence. You must and shall be married -by a special licence. But my dearest love, tell me what dish -Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it tomorrow." -This was a sad omen of what her mother's behaviour to the -gentleman himself might be and Elizabeth found that, though in -the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of -her relations' consent, there was still something to be wished -for. But the morrow passed off much better than she expected -for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood in such awe of her intended -soninlaw that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was -in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference -for his opinion. -Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking -pains to get acquainted with him and Mr. Bennet soon assured -her that he was rising every hour in his esteem. -"I admire all my three sonsinlaw highly," said he. "Wickham, -perhaps, is my favourite but I think I shall like your husband -quite as well as Jane's." -Chapter -Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she -wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love -with her. "How could you begin?" said she. "I can comprehend -your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning -but what could set you off in the first place?" -"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the -words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was -in the middle before I knew that I had begun." -"My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my mannersmy -behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, -and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain -than not. Now be sincere did you admire me for my impertinence?" -"For the liveliness of your mind, I did." -"You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very -little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of -deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with -the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking -for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, -because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really -amiable, you would have hated me for it but in spite of the -pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always -noble and just and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the -persons who so assiduously courted you. ThereI have saved -you the trouble of accounting for it and really, all things -considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be -sure, you knew no actual good of mebut nobody thinks of -that when they fall in love." -"Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while -she was ill at Netherfield?" -"Dearest Jane who could have done less for her? But make a -virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your -protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible -and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing -and quarrelling with you as often as may be and I shall begin -directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to -the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first -called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you -called, did you look as if you did not care about me?" -"Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement." -"But I was embarrassed." -"And so was I." -"You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner." -"A man who had felt less, might." -"How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, -and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it But I -wonder how long you would have gone on, if you had been left -to yourself. I wonder when you would have spoken, if I -had not asked you My resolution of thanking you for your -kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. Too much, I am -afraid for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs -from a breach of promise? for I ought not to have mentioned -the subject. This will never do." -"You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly -fair. Lady Catherine's unjustifiable endeavours to separate us -were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted -for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing -your gratitude. I was not in a humour to wait for any opening -of your's. My aunt's intelligence had given me hope, and I was -determined at once to know every thing." -"Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make -her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did -you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to -Longbourn and be embarrassed? or had you intended any more -serious consequence?" -"My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, -whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, -or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister were -still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the -confession to him which I have since made." -"Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine -what is to befall her?" -"I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. -But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, -it shall be done directly." -"And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you -and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady -once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer -neglected." -From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with -Mr. Darcy had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet -answered Mrs. Gardiner's long letter but now, having that -to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was -almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost -three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as follows -"I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought -to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of -particulars but to say the truth, I was too cross to write. -You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as -much as you choose give a loose rein to your fancy, indulge your -imagination in every possible flight which the subject will -afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot -greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a -great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again -and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly -as to wish it Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will -go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the -world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one -with such justice. I am happier even than Jane she only -smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world -that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at -Christmas. Yours, etc." -Mr. Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style -and still different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to -Mr. Collins, in reply to his last. -"DEAR SIR, -"I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth -will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine -as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the -nephew. He has more to give. -"Yours sincerely, etc." -Miss Bingley's congratulations to her brother, on his approaching -marriage, were all that was affectionate and insincere. She -wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and -repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not -deceived, but she was affected and though feeling no reliance -on her, could not help writing her a much kinder answer than -she knew was deserved. -The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar -information, was as sincere as her brother's in sending it. -Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her -delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her -sister. -Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any -congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn -family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to Lucas -Lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident. -Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by -the contents of her nephew's letter, that Charlotte, really -rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the -storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of -her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in -the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the -pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all -the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. He bore -it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even listen to -Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away -the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of -their all meeting frequently at St. James's, with very decent -composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir -William was out of sight. -Mrs. Phillips's vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater, -tax on his forbearance and though Mrs. Phillips, as well as -her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the -familiarity which Bingley's good humour encouraged, yet, -whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her -respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely -to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to -shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever -anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with -whom he might converse without mortification and though the -uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the -season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope -of the future and she looked forward with delight to the time -when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to -either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party -at Pemberley. -Chapter -Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which -Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters. -With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, -and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed. I wish I could say, -for the sake of her family, that the accomplishment of her -earnest desire in the establishment of so many of her children -produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible, amiable, -wellinformed woman for the rest of her life though perhaps it -was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic -felicity in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally -nervous and invariably silly. -Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly his -affection for her drew him oftener from home than anything -else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, especially -when he was least expected. -Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. -So near a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not -desirable even to his easy temper, or her affectionate heart. -The darling wish of his sisters was then gratified he bought -an estate in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and -Elizabeth, in addition to every other source of happiness, were -within thirty miles of each other. -Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her -time with her two elder sisters. In society so superior to -what she had generally known, her improvement was great. She -was not of so ungovernable a temper as Lydia and, removed from -the influence of Lydia's example, she became, by proper -attention and management, less irritable, less ignorant, and -less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia's society -she was of course carefully kept, and though Mrs. Wickham -frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the -promise of balls and young men, her father would never consent -to her going. -Mary was the only daughter who remained at home and she was -necessarily drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by -Mrs. Bennet's being quite unable to sit alone. Mary was -obliged to mix more with the world, but she could still -moralize over every morning visit and as she was no longer -mortified by comparisons between her sisters' beauty and her -own, it was suspected by her father that she submitted to -the change without much reluctance. -As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no -revolution from the marriage of her sisters. He bore with -philosophy the conviction that Elizabeth must now become -acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude and falsehood -had before been unknown to her and in spite of every thing, -was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be prevailed -on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which -Elizabeth received from Lydia on her marriage, explained to -her that, by his wife at least, if not by himself, such a -hope was cherished. The letter was to this effect -"MY DEAR LIZZY, -"I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half as well as I do my -dear Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to -have you so rich, and when you have nothing else to do, I hope -you will think of us. I am sure Wickham would like a place at -court very much, and I do not think we shall have quite money -enough to live upon without some help. Any place would do, of -about three or four hundred a year but however, do not speak -to Mr. Darcy about it, if you had rather not. -"Yours, etc." -As it happened that Elizabeth had much rather not, she -endeavoured in her answer to put an end to every entreaty -and expectation of the kind. Such relief, however, as it -was in her power to afford, by the practice of what might be -called economy in her own private expences, she frequently -sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an -income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so -extravagant in their wants, and heedless of the future, must -be very insufficient to their support and whenever they -changed their quarters, either Jane or herself were sure of -being applied to for some little assistance towards discharging -their bills. Their manner of living, even when the restoration -of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the -extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest -of a cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. -His affection for her soon sunk into indifference her's lasted -a little longer and in spite of her youth and her manners, she -retained all the claims to reputation which her marriage had -given her. -Though Darcy could never receive him at Pemberley, yet, for -Elizabeth's sake, he assisted him further in his profession. -Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when her husband was -gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath and with the Bingleys -they both of them frequently staid so long, that even Bingley's -good humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to talk -of giving them a hint to be gone. -Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy's marriage but -as she thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at -Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment was fonder than ever -of Georgiana, almost as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and -paid off every arrear of civility to Elizabeth. -Pemberley was now Georgiana's home and the attachment of the -sisters was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able -to love each other even as well as they intended. Georgiana had -the highest opinion in the world of Elizabeth though at first -she often listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at -her lively, sportive, manner of talking to her brother. He, who -had always inspired in herself a respect which almost overcame -her affection, she now saw the object of open pleasantry. Her -mind received knowledge which had never before fallen in her way. -By Elizabeth's instructions, she began to comprehend that a woman -may take liberties with her husband which a brother will not -always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself. -Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her -nephew and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her -character in her reply to the letter which announced its -arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially -of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end. -But at length, by Elizabeth's persuasion, he was prevailed on -to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation and, after -a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her -resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her -curiosity to see how his wife conducted herself and she -condescended to wait on them at Pemberley, in spite of that -pollution which its woods had received, not merely from the -presence of such a mistress, but the visits of her uncle and -aunt from the city. -With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate -terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them and -they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards -the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the -means of uniting them. - END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE -This file should be named pandp.txt or pandp.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, pandp.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, pandpa.txt -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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Kramer, Attorney -Internet .compuserve.com TEL -ENDTHE SMALL PRINT FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTSVer...END -SENSE AND SENSIBILITY -by Jane Austen -CHAPTER -The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. -Their estate was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, -in the centre of their property, where, for many generations, -they had lived in so respectable a manner as to engage -the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance. -The late owner of this estate was a single man, who lived -to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his life, -had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister. -But her death, which happened ten years before his own, -produced a great alteration in his home for to supply -her loss, he invited and received into his house the family -of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, the legal inheritor -of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he intended -to bequeath it. In the society of his nephew and niece, -and their children, the old Gentleman's days were -comfortably spent. His attachment to them all increased. -The constant attention of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Dashwood -to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from interest, -but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid -comfort which his age could receive and the cheerfulness -of the children added a relish to his existence. -By a former marriage, Mr. Henry Dashwood had one -son by his present lady, three daughters. The son, -a steady respectable young man, was amply provided -for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large, -and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age. -By his own marriage, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, -he added to his wealth. To him therefore the succession -to the Norland estate was not so really important as to -his sisters for their fortune, independent of what might -arise to them from their father's inheriting that property, -could be but small. Their mother had nothing, and their -father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal -for the remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was -also secured to her child, and he had only a lifeinterest -in it. -The old gentleman died his will was read, and -like almost every other will, gave as much disappointment -as pleasure. He was neither so unjust, nor so ungrateful, -as to leave his estate from his nephewbut he left it to him -on such terms as destroyed half the value of the bequest. -Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more for the sake of his -wife and daughters than for himself or his sonbut to -his son, and his son's son, a child of four years old, -it was secured, in such a way, as to leave to himself -no power of providing for those who were most dear -to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge -on the estate, or by any sale of its valuable woods. -The whole was tied up for the benefit of this child, who, -in occasional visits with his father and mother at Norland, -had so far gained on the affections of his uncle, -by such attractions as are by no means unusual in children -of two or three years old an imperfect articulation, -an earnest desire of having his own way, many cunning tricks, -and a great deal of noise, as to outweigh all the value -of all the attention which, for years, he had received -from his niece and her daughters. He meant not to -be unkind, however, and, as a mark of his affection -for the three girls, he left them a thousand pounds apiece. -Mr. Dashwood's disappointment was, at first, severe -but his temper was cheerful and sanguine and he might -reasonably hope to live many years, and by living economically, -lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate -already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement. -But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was his -only one twelvemonth. He survived his uncle no longer -and ten thousand pounds, including the late legacies, -was all that remained for his widow and daughters. -His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, -and to him Mr. Dashwood recommended, with all the strength -and urgency which illness could command, the interest -of his motherinlaw and sisters. -Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the -rest of the family but he was affected by a recommendation -of such a nature at such a time, and he promised to do -every thing in his power to make them comfortable. -His father was rendered easy by such an assurance, -and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how -much there might prudently be in his power to do for them. -He was not an illdisposed young man, unless to -be rather cold hearted and rather selfish is to be -illdisposed but he was, in general, well respected -for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge -of his ordinary duties. Had he married a more amiable woman, -he might have been made still more respectable than he -washe might even have been made amiable himself for he -was very young when he married, and very fond of his wife. -But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature of himself -more narrowminded and selfish. -When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated -within himself to increase the fortunes of his sisters -by the present of a thousand pounds apiece. He then -really thought himself equal to it. The prospect of four -thousand ayear, in addition to his present income, -besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, -warmed his heart, and made him feel capable of generosity. -"Yes, he would give them three thousand pounds it would -be liberal and handsome It would be enough to make -them completely easy. Three thousand pounds he could -spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience." -He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, -and he did not repent. -No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John -Dashwood, without sending any notice of her intention to her -motherinlaw, arrived with her child and their attendants. -No one could dispute her right to come the house was -her husband's from the moment of his father's decease -but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the greater, -and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only -common feelings, must have been highly unpleasing -but in HER mind there was a sense of honor so keen, -a generosity so romantic, that any offence of the kind, -by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source -of immoveable disgust. Mrs. John Dashwood had never -been a favourite with any of her husband's family -but she had had no opportunity, till the present, -of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort -of other people she could act when occasion required it. -So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood feel this ungracious -behaviour, and so earnestly did she despise her -daughterinlaw for it, that, on the arrival of the latter, -she would have quitted the house for ever, had not the -entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect -on the propriety of going, and her own tender love for all -her three children determined her afterwards to stay, -and for their sakes avoid a breach with their brother. -Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was -so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, -and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, -though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, -and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage -of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood -which must generally have led to imprudence. She had -an excellent hearther disposition was affectionate, -and her feelings were strong but she knew how to govern -them it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn -and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught. -Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, -quite equal to Elinor's. She was sensible and clever -but eager in everything her sorrows, her joys, could have -no moderation. She was generous, amiable, interesting she -was everything but prudent. The resemblance between -her and her mother was strikingly great. -Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her -sister's sensibility but by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued -and cherished. They encouraged each other now in the -violence of their affliction. The agony of grief -which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, -was sought for, was created again and again. They gave -themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase -of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, -and resolved against ever admitting consolation -in future. Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted but still -she could struggle, she could exert herself. She could -consult with her brother, could receive her sisterinlaw -on her arrival, and treat her with proper attention -and could strive to rouse her mother to similar exertion, -and encourage her to similar forbearance. -Margaret, the other sister, was a goodhumored, -welldisposed girl but as she had already imbibed -a good deal of Marianne's romance, without having -much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair -to equal her sisters at a more advanced period of life. -CHAPTER -Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress -of Norland and her mother and sistersinlaw were degraded -to the condition of visitors. As such, however, they were -treated by her with quiet civility and by her husband -with as much kindness as he could feel towards anybody -beyond himself, his wife, and their child. He really -pressed them, with some earnestness, to consider Norland -as their home and, as no plan appeared so eligible -to Mrs. Dashwood as remaining there till she could -accommodate herself with a house in the neighbourhood, -his invitation was accepted. -A continuance in a place where everything reminded -her of former delight, was exactly what suited her mind. -In seasons of cheerfulness, no temper could be more cheerful -than hers, or possess, in a greater degree, that sanguine -expectation of happiness which is happiness itself. -But in sorrow she must be equally carried away by her fancy, -and as far beyond consolation as in pleasure she was -beyond alloy. -Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her -husband intended to do for his sisters. To take three -thousand pounds from the fortune of their dear little boy -would be impoverishing him to the most dreadful degree. -She begged him to think again on the subject. How could -he answer it to himself to rob his child, and his only -child too, of so large a sum? And what possible claim -could the Miss Dashwoods, who were related to him only by -half blood, which she considered as no relationship at all, -have on his generosity to so large an amount. It was very -well known that no affection was ever supposed to exist -between the children of any man by different marriages -and why was he to ruin himself, and their poor little Harry, -by giving away all his money to his half sisters? -"It was my father's last request to me," replied -her husband, "that I should assist his widow and daughters." -"He did not know what he was talking of, I dare say -ten to one but he was lightheaded at the time. -Had he been in his right senses, he could not have thought -of such a thing as begging you to give away half your -fortune from your own child." -"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, -my dear Fanny he only requested me, in general terms, -to assist them, and make their situation more comfortable -than it was in his power to do. Perhaps it would -have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself. -He could hardly suppose I should neglect them. -But as he required the promise, I could not do less -than give it at least I thought so at the time. -The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed. -Something must be done for them whenever they leave Norland -and settle in a new home." -"Well, then, LET something be done for them -but THAT something need not be three thousand pounds. -Consider," she added, "that when the money is once -parted with, it never can return. Your sisters will marry, -and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could -be restored to our poor little boy" -"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, -"that would make great difference. The time may come when -Harry will regret that so large a sum was parted with. -If he should have a numerous family, for instance, it would -be a very convenient addition." -"To be sure it would." -"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, -if the sum were diminished one half.Five hundred pounds -would be a prodigious increase to their fortunes" -"Oh beyond anything great What brother on earth -would do half so much for his sisters, even if REALLY -his sisters And as it isonly half bloodBut you -have such a generous spirit" -"I would not wish to do any thing mean," he replied. -"One had rather, on such occasions, do too much than -too little. No one, at least, can think I have not -done enough for them even themselves, they can hardly -expect more." -"There is no knowing what THEY may expect," -said the lady, "but we are not to think of their -expectations the question is, what you can afford to do." -"Certainlyand I think I may afford to give them five -hundred pounds apiece. As it is, without any addition -of mine, they will each have about three thousand pounds -on their mother's deatha very comfortable fortune -for any young woman." -"To be sure it is and, indeed, it strikes me that -they can want no addition at all. They will have ten -thousand pounds divided amongst them. If they marry, -they will be sure of doing well, and if they do not, -they may all live very comfortably together on the interest -of ten thousand pounds." -"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, -upon the whole, it would not be more advisable to do -something for their mother while she lives, rather than -for themsomething of the annuity kind I mean.My sisters -would feel the good effects of it as well as herself. -A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable." -His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving -her consent to this plan. -"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with -fifteen hundred pounds at once. But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood -should live fifteen years we shall be completely taken in." -"Fifteen years my dear Fanny her life cannot -be worth half that purchase." -"Certainly not but if you observe, people always -live for ever when there is an annuity to be paid them -and she is very stout and healthy, and hardly forty. -An annuity is a very serious business it comes over -and over every year, and there is no getting rid -of it. You are not aware of what you are doing. -I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities -for my mother was clogged with the payment of three -to old superannuated servants by my father's will, -and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it. -Twice every year these annuities were to be paid and then -there was the trouble of getting it to them and then one -of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned -out to be no such thing. My mother was quite sick of it. -Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual -claims on it and it was the more unkind in my father, -because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at -my mother's disposal, without any restriction whatever. -It has given me such an abhorrence of annuities, that I am -sure I would not pin myself down to the payment of one for -all the world." -"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, -"to have those kind of yearly drains on one's income. -One's fortune, as your mother justly says, is NOT one's own. -To be tied down to the regular payment of such a sum, -on every rent day, is by no means desirable it takes away -one's independence." -"Undoubtedly and after all you have no thanks for it. -They think themselves secure, you do no more than what -is expected, and it raises no gratitude at all. If I were you, -whatever I did should be done at my own discretion entirely. -I would not bind myself to allow them any thing yearly. -It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a hundred, -or even fifty pounds from our own expenses." -"I believe you are right, my love it will be better -that there should by no annuity in the case whatever I -may give them occasionally will be of far greater assistance -than a yearly allowance, because they would only enlarge -their style of living if they felt sure of a larger income, -and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end -of the year. It will certainly be much the best way. -A present of fifty pounds, now and then, will prevent -their ever being distressed for money, and will, I think, -be amply discharging my promise to my father." -"To be sure it will. Indeed, to say the truth, -I am convinced within myself that your father had no idea -of your giving them any money at all. The assistance -he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might be -reasonably expected of you for instance, such as looking -out for a comfortable small house for them, helping them -to move their things, and sending them presents of fish -and game, and so forth, whenever they are in season. -I'll lay my life that he meant nothing farther indeed, -it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did. -Do but consider, my dear Mr. Dashwood, how excessively -comfortable your motherinlaw and her daughters may live -on the interest of seven thousand pounds, besides the -thousand pounds belonging to each of the girls, which brings -them in fifty pounds a year apiece, and, of course, -they will pay their mother for their board out of it. -Altogether, they will have five hundred ayear amongst them, -and what on earth can four women want for more than -that?They will live so cheap Their housekeeping will -be nothing at all. They will have no carriage, no horses, -and hardly any servants they will keep no company, -and can have no expenses of any kind Only conceive -how comfortable they will be Five hundred a year I am -sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it -and as to your giving them more, it is quite absurd to think -of it. They will be much more able to give YOU something." -"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you -are perfectly right. My father certainly could mean -nothing more by his request to me than what you say. -I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil -my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness -to them as you have described. When my mother removes -into another house my services shall be readily given -to accommodate her as far as I can. Some little present -of furniture too may be acceptable then." -"Certainly," returned Mrs. John Dashwood. "But, however, -ONE thing must be considered. When your father and mother -moved to Norland, though the furniture of Stanhill -was sold, all the china, plate, and linen was saved, -and is now left to your mother. Her house will therefore -be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it." -"That is a material consideration undoubtedly. -A valuable legacy indeed And yet some of the plate would -have been a very pleasant addition to our own stock here." -"Yes and the set of breakfast china is twice -as handsome as what belongs to this house. A great -deal too handsome, in my opinion, for any place THEY -can ever afford to live in. But, however, so it is. -Your father thought only of THEM. And I must say this -that you owe no particular gratitude to him, nor attention -to his wishes for we very well know that if he could, -he would have left almost everything in the world to THEM." -This argument was irresistible. It gave to his -intentions whatever of decision was wanting before and he -finally resolved, that it would be absolutely unnecessary, -if not highly indecorous, to do more for the widow -and children of his father, than such kind of neighbourly -acts as his own wife pointed out. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Dashwood remained at Norland several months -not from any disinclination to move when the sight of every -well known spot ceased to raise the violent emotion which it -produced for a while for when her spirits began to revive, -and her mind became capable of some other exertion than that -of heightening its affliction by melancholy remembrances, -she was impatient to be gone, and indefatigable in her inquiries -for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Norland -for to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible. -But she could hear of no situation that at once answered -her notions of comfort and ease, and suited the prudence -of her eldest daughter, whose steadier judgment rejected -several houses as too large for their income, which her -mother would have approved. -Mrs. Dashwood had been informed by her husband of the -solemn promise on the part of his son in their favour, -which gave comfort to his last earthly reflections. -She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no more than he -had doubted it himself, and she thought of it for her daughters' -sake with satisfaction, though as for herself she was -persuaded that a much smaller provision than L would -support her in affluence. For their brother's sake, too, -for the sake of his own heart, she rejoiced and she -reproached herself for being unjust to his merit before, -in believing him incapable of generosity. His attentive -behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that -their welfare was dear to him, and, for a long time, -she firmly relied on the liberality of his intentions. -The contempt which she had, very early in their acquaintance, -felt for her daughterinlaw, was very much increased -by the farther knowledge of her character, which half -a year's residence in her family afforded and perhaps -in spite of every consideration of politeness or maternal -affection on the side of the former, the two ladies might -have found it impossible to have lived together so long, -had not a particular circumstance occurred to give -still greater eligibility, according to the opinions -of Mrs. Dashwood, to her daughters' continuance at Norland. -This circumstance was a growing attachment between -her eldest girl and the brother of Mrs. John Dashwood, -a gentlemanlike and pleasing young man, who was introduced -to their acquaintance soon after his sister's establishment -at Norland, and who had since spent the greatest part -of his time there. -Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from -motives of interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son -of a man who had died very rich and some might have repressed -it from motives of prudence, for, except a trifling sum, -the whole of his fortune depended on the will of his mother. -But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either consideration. -It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable, -that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned -the partiality. It was contrary to every doctrine of -her's that difference of fortune should keep any couple -asunder who were attracted by resemblance of disposition -and that Elinor's merit should not be acknowledged -by every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible. -Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good -opinion by any peculiar graces of person or address. -He was not handsome, and his manners required intimacy -to make them pleasing. He was too diffident to do justice -to himself but when his natural shyness was overcome, -his behaviour gave every indication of an open, -affectionate heart. His understanding was good, -and his education had given it solid improvement. -But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition -to answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed -to see him distinguishedasthey hardly knew what. -They wanted him to make a fine figure in the world in some -manner or other. His mother wished to interest him in -political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to see -him connected with some of the great men of the day. -Mrs. John Dashwood wished it likewise but in the mean while, -till one of these superior blessings could be attained, it would -have quieted her ambition to see him driving a barouche. -But Edward had no turn for great men or barouches. -All his wishes centered in domestic comfort and the quiet -of private life. Fortunately he had a younger brother -who was more promising. -Edward had been staying several weeks in the house -before he engaged much of Mrs. Dashwood's attention -for she was, at that time, in such affliction as rendered -her careless of surrounding objects. She saw only that he -was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it. -He did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by -illtimed conversation. She was first called to observe -and approve him farther, by a reflection which Elinor -chanced one day to make on the difference between him -and his sister. It was a contrast which recommended him -most forcibly to her mother. -"It is enough," said she "to say that he is unlike -Fanny is enough. It implies everything amiable. -I love him already." -"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you -know more of him." -"Like him" replied her mother with a smile. -"I feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love." -"You may esteem him." -"I have never yet known what it was to separate -esteem and love." -Mrs. Dashwood now took pains to get acquainted with him. -Her manners were attaching, and soon banished his reserve. -She speedily comprehended all his merits the persuasion -of his regard for Elinor perhaps assisted her penetration -but she really felt assured of his worth and even that -quietness of manner, which militated against all her -established ideas of what a young man's address ought to be, -was no longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be -warm and his temper affectionate. -No sooner did she perceive any symptom of love -in his behaviour to Elinor, than she considered their -serious attachment as certain, and looked forward -to their marriage as rapidly approaching. -"In a few months, my dear Marianne." said she, -"Elinor will, in all probability be settled for life. -We shall miss her but SHE will be happy." -"Oh Mamma, how shall we do without her?" -"My love, it will be scarcely a separation. -We shall live within a few miles of each other, and shall -meet every day of our lives. You will gain a brother, -a real, affectionate brother. I have the highest opinion -in the world of Edward's heart. But you look grave, -Marianne do you disapprove your sister's choice?" -"Perhaps," said Marianne, "I may consider it -with some surprise. Edward is very amiable, and I love -him tenderly. But yethe is not the kind of young -manthere is something wantinghis figure is not striking -it has none of that grace which I should expect -in the man who could seriously attach my sister. -His eyes want all that spirit, that fire, which at once -announce virtue and intelligence. And besides all this, -I am afraid, Mamma, he has no real taste. Music seems -scarcely to attract him, and though he admires Elinor's -drawings very much, it is not the admiration of a person -who can understand their worth. It is evident, in spite of -his frequent attention to her while she draws, that in fact -he knows nothing of the matter. He admires as a lover, -not as a connoisseur. To satisfy me, those characters -must be united. I could not be happy with a man whose -taste did not in every point coincide with my own. -He must enter into all my feelings the same books, -the same music must charm us both. Oh mama, how spiritless, -how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night -I felt for my sister most severely. Yet she bore it -with so much composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it. -I could hardly keep my seat. To hear those beautiful lines -which have frequently almost driven me wild, pronounced -with such impenetrable calmness, such dreadful indifference" -"He would certainly have done more justice to -simple and elegant prose. I thought so at the time -but you WOULD give him Cowper." -"Nay, Mamma, if he is not to be animated by Cowper -but we must allow for difference of taste. Elinor has -not my feelings, and therefore she may overlook it, and -be happy with him. But it would have broke MY heart, -had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility. -Mama, the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced -that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. -I require so much He must have all Edward's virtues, -and his person and manners must ornament his goodness -with every possible charm." -"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen. -It is yet too early in life to despair of such a happiness. -Why should you be less fortunate than your mother? In -one circumstance only, my Marianne, may your destiny be -different from her's" -CHAPTER -"What a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, -"that Edward should have no taste for drawing." -"No taste for drawing" replied Elinor, "why should -you think so? He does not draw himself, indeed, but he has -great pleasure in seeing the performances of other people, -and I assure you he is by no means deficient in natural taste, -though he has not had opportunities of improving it. -Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he would -have drawn very well. He distrusts his own judgment -in such matters so much, that he is always unwilling -to give his opinion on any picture but he has an innate -propriety and simplicity of taste, which in general -direct him perfectly right." -Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more -on the subject but the kind of approbation which Elinor -described as excited in him by the drawings of other -people, was very far from that rapturous delight, which, -in her opinion, could alone be called taste. Yet, though -smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured -her sister for that blind partiality to Edward which produced it. -"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not -consider him as deficient in general taste. Indeed, I think -I may say that you cannot, for your behaviour to him -is perfectly cordial, and if THAT were your opinion, -I am sure you could never be civil to him." -Marianne hardly knew what to say. She would -not wound the feelings of her sister on any account, -and yet to say what she did not believe was impossible. -At length she replied -"Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him -is not in every thing equal to your sense of his merits. -I have not had so many opportunities of estimating the minuter -propensities of his mind, his inclinations and tastes, -as you have but I have the highest opinion in the world -of his goodness and sense. I think him every thing that is -worthy and amiable." -"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, -"that his dearest friends could not be dissatisfied -with such commendation as that. I do not perceive -how you could express yourself more warmly." -Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased. -"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, -"no one can, I think, be in doubt, who has seen him -often enough to engage him in unreserved conversation. -The excellence of his understanding and his principles -can be concealed only by that shyness which too often -keeps him silent. You know enough of him to do justice -to his solid worth. But of his minuter propensities, -as you call them you have from peculiar circumstances -been kept more ignorant than myself. He and I have -been at times thrown a good deal together, while you -have been wholly engrossed on the most affectionate -principle by my mother. I have seen a great deal of him, -have studied his sentiments and heard his opinion on -subjects of literature and taste and, upon the whole, -I venture to pronounce that his mind is wellinformed, -enjoyment of books exceedingly great, his imagination lively, -his observation just and correct, and his taste delicate -and pure. His abilities in every respect improve -as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person. -At first sight, his address is certainly not striking -and his person can hardly be called handsome, till the -expression of his eyes, which are uncommonly good, -and the general sweetness of his countenance, is perceived. -At present, I know him so well, that I think him -really handsome or at least, almost so. What say you, -Marianne?" -"I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I -do not now. When you tell me to love him as a brother, -I shall no more see imperfection in his face, than I now do -in his heart." -Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for -the warmth she had been betrayed into, in speaking of him. -She felt that Edward stood very high in her opinion. -She believed the regard to be mutual but she required -greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction -of their attachment agreeable to her. She knew that -what Marianne and her mother conjectured one moment, -they believed the nextthat with them, to wish was to hope, -and to hope was to expect. She tried to explain the real -state of the case to her sister. -"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think -very highly of himthat I greatly esteem, that I like him." -Marianne here burst forth with indignation -"Esteem him Like him Coldhearted Elinor Oh -worse than coldhearted Ashamed of being otherwise. -Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment." -Elinor could not help laughing. "Excuse me," -said she "and be assured that I meant no offence to you, -by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my own feelings. -Believe them to be stronger than I have declared -believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the -suspicionthe hope of his affection for me may warrant, -without imprudence or folly. But farther than this you must -not believe. I am by no means assured of his regard for me. -There are moments when the extent of it seems doubtful -and till his sentiments are fully known, you cannot wonder -at my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own partiality, -by believing or calling it more than it is. In my heart -I feel littlescarcely any doubt of his preference. -But there are other points to be considered besides -his inclination. He is very far from being independent. -What his mother really is we cannot know but, from Fanny's -occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have -never been disposed to think her amiable and I am very -much mistaken if Edward is not himself aware that there -would be many difficulties in his way, if he were to wish -to marry a woman who had not either a great fortune or -high rank." -Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination -of her mother and herself had outstripped the truth. -"And you really are not engaged to him" said she. -"Yet it certainly soon will happen. But two advantages -will proceed from this delay. I shall not lose you so soon, -and Edward will have greater opportunity of improving -that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must -be so indispensably necessary to your future felicity. -Oh if he should be so far stimulated by your genius as to -learn to draw himself, how delightful it would be" -Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister. -She could not consider her partiality for Edward -in so prosperous a state as Marianne had believed it. -There was, at times, a want of spirits about him which, -if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something almost -as unpromising. A doubt of her regard, supposing him -to feel it, need not give him more than inquietude. -It would not be likely to produce that dejection of mind -which frequently attended him. A more reasonable cause -might be found in the dependent situation which forbade -the indulgence of his affection. She knew that his mother -neither behaved to him so as to make his home comfortable -at present, nor to give him any assurance that he might form -a home for himself, without strictly attending to her views -for his aggrandizement. With such a knowledge as this, -it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on the subject. -She was far from depending on that result of his preference -of her, which her mother and sister still considered -as certain. Nay, the longer they were together the more -doubtful seemed the nature of his regard and sometimes, -for a few painful minutes, she believed it to be no more -than friendship. -But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, -when perceived by his sister, to make her uneasy, -and at the same time, which was still more common, -to make her uncivil. She took the first opportunity of -affronting her motherinlaw on the occasion, talking to -her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, -of Mrs. Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should -marry well, and of the danger attending any young woman -who attempted to DRAW HIM IN that Mrs. Dashwood could -neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to be calm. -She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, -and instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might -be the inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, -her beloved Elinor should not be exposed another week -to such insinuations. -In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered -to her from the post, which contained a proposal -particularly well timed. It was the offer of a small house, -on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of her own, -a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire. -The letter was from this gentleman himself, and written -in the true spirit of friendly accommodation. -He understood that she was in need of a dwelling -and though the house he now offered her was merely a cottage, -he assured her that everything should be done to it which -she might think necessary, if the situation pleased her. -He earnestly pressed her, after giving the particulars -of the house and garden, to come with her daughters to -Barton Park, the place of his own residence, from whence -she might judge, herself, whether Barton Cottage, for the -houses were in the same parish, could, by any alteration, -be made comfortable to her. He seemed really anxious to -accommodate them and the whole of his letter was written -in so friendly a style as could not fail of giving pleasure -to his cousin more especially at a moment when she was -suffering under the cold and unfeeling behaviour of her -nearer connections. She needed no time for deliberation -or inquiry. Her resolution was formed as she read. -The situation of Barton, in a county so far distant from -Sussex as Devonshire, which, but a few hours before, -would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh every -possible advantage belonging to the place, was now its -first recommendation. To quit the neighbourhood of Norland -was no longer an evil it was an object of desire -it was a blessing, in comparison of the misery of continuing -her daughterinlaw's guest and to remove for ever -from that beloved place would be less painful than to -inhabit or visit it while such a woman was its mistress. -She instantly wrote Sir John Middleton her acknowledgment -of his kindness, and her acceptance of his proposal -and then hastened to shew both letters to her daughters, -that she might be secure of their approbation before her -answer were sent. -Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent -for them to settle at some distance from Norland, -than immediately amongst their present acquaintance. -On THAT head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose -her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire. -The house, too, as described by Sir John, was on so -simple a scale, and the rent so uncommonly moderate, -as to leave her no right of objection on either point -and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought -any charm to her fancy, though it was a removal from -the vicinity of Norland beyond her wishes, she made -no attempt to dissuade her mother from sending a letter -of acquiescence. -CHAPTER -No sooner was her answer dispatched, than Mrs. Dashwood -indulged herself in the pleasure of announcing to her -soninlaw and his wife that she was provided with a house, -and should incommode them no longer than till every thing were -ready for her inhabiting it. They heard her with surprise. -Mrs. John Dashwood said nothing but her husband civilly -hoped that she would not be settled far from Norland. -She had great satisfaction in replying that she was going -into Devonshire.Edward turned hastily towards her, -on hearing this, and, in a voice of surprise and concern, -which required no explanation to her, repeated, -"Devonshire Are you, indeed, going there? So far from hence -And to what part of it?" She explained the situation. -It was within four miles northward of Exeter. -"It is but a cottage," she continued, "but I hope -to see many of my friends in it. A room or two can -easily be added and if my friends find no difficulty -in travelling so far to see me, I am sure I will find -none in accommodating them." -She concluded with a very kind invitation to -Mr. and Mrs. John Dashwood to visit her at Barton -and to Edward she gave one with still greater affection. -Though her late conversation with her daughterinlaw had -made her resolve on remaining at Norland no longer than -was unavoidable, it had not produced the smallest effect -on her in that point to which it principally tended. -To separate Edward and Elinor was as far from being her -object as ever and she wished to show Mrs. John Dashwood, -by this pointed invitation to her brother, how totally she -disregarded her disapprobation of the match. -Mr. John Dashwood told his mother again and again -how exceedingly sorry he was that she had taken a house at -such a distance from Norland as to prevent his being of any -service to her in removing her furniture. He really felt -conscientiously vexed on the occasion for the very exertion -to which he had limited the performance of his promise to -his father was by this arrangement rendered impracticable. -The furniture was all sent around by water. It chiefly -consisted of household linen, plate, china, and books, -with a handsome pianoforte of Marianne's. Mrs. John -Dashwood saw the packages depart with a sigh she could -not help feeling it hard that as Mrs. Dashwood's income -would be so trifling in comparison with their own, -she should have any handsome article of furniture. -Mrs. Dashwood took the house for a twelvemonth it was -ready furnished, and she might have immediate possession. -No difficulty arose on either side in the agreement and she -waited only for the disposal of her effects at Norland, -and to determine her future household, before she set -off for the west and this, as she was exceedingly rapid -in the performance of everything that interested her, -was soon done.The horses which were left her by her husband -had been sold soon after his death, and an opportunity -now offering of disposing of her carriage, she agreed -to sell that likewise at the earnest advice of her -eldest daughter. For the comfort of her children, had she -consulted only her own wishes, she would have kept it -but the discretion of Elinor prevailed. HER wisdom -too limited the number of their servants to three -two maids and a man, with whom they were speedily provided -from amongst those who had formed their establishment -at Norland. -The man and one of the maids were sent off immediately -into Devonshire, to prepare the house for their mistress's -arrival for as Lady Middleton was entirely unknown -to Mrs. Dashwood, she preferred going directly to the -cottage to being a visitor at Barton Park and she relied -so undoubtingly on Sir John's description of the house, -as to feel no curiosity to examine it herself till she -entered it as her own. Her eagerness to be gone from Norland -was preserved from diminution by the evident satisfaction -of her daughterinlaw in the prospect of her removal -a satisfaction which was but feebly attempted to be concealed -under a cold invitation to her to defer her departure. -Now was the time when her soninlaw's promise to his -father might with particular propriety be fulfilled. -Since he had neglected to do it on first coming to -the estate, their quitting his house might be looked -on as the most suitable period for its accomplishment. -But Mrs. Dashwood began shortly to give over every -hope of the kind, and to be convinced, from the general -drift of his discourse, that his assistance extended no -farther than their maintenance for six months at Norland. -He so frequently talked of the increasing expenses -of housekeeping, and of the perpetual demands upon his purse, -which a man of any consequence in the world was beyond -calculation exposed to, that he seemed rather to stand -in need of more money himself than to have any design of -giving money away. -In a very few weeks from the day which brought Sir -John Middleton's first letter to Norland, every thing was -so far settled in their future abode as to enable -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters to begin their journey. -Many were the tears shed by them in their last -adieus to a place so much beloved. "Dear, dear Norland" -said Marianne, as she wandered alone before the house, -on the last evening of their being there "when shall I cease -to regret youwhen learn to feel a home elsewhereOh -happy house, could you know what I suffer in now viewing -you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view -you no moreAnd you, ye wellknown treesbut you -will continue the same.No leaf will decay because we -are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we -can observe you no longerNo you will continue the same -unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, -and insensible of any change in those who walk under your -shadeBut who will remain to enjoy you?" -CHAPTER -The first part of their journey was performed in too -melancholy a disposition to be otherwise than tedious -and unpleasant. But as they drew towards the end of it, -their interest in the appearance of a country which they -were to inhabit overcame their dejection, and a view of -Barton Valley as they entered it gave them cheerfulness. -It was a pleasant fertile spot, well wooded, and rich -in pasture. After winding along it for more than a mile, -they reached their own house. A small green court was -the whole of its demesne in front and a neat wicket gate -admitted them into it. -As a house, Barton Cottage, though small, was comfortable -and compact but as a cottage it was defective, for the -building was regular, the roof was tiled, the window -shutters were not painted green, nor were the walls covered -with honeysuckles. A narrow passage led directly through -the house into the garden behind. On each side of the -entrance was a sitting room, about sixteen feet square -and beyond them were the offices and the stairs. -Four bedrooms and two garrets formed the rest of the house. -It had not been built many years and was in good repair. -In comparison of Norland, it was poor and small indeedbut -the tears which recollection called forth as they entered -the house were soon dried away. They were cheered -by the joy of the servants on their arrival, and each -for the sake of the others resolved to appear happy. -It was very early in September the season was fine, -and from first seeing the place under the advantage -of good weather, they received an impression in its -favour which was of material service in recommending -it to their lasting approbation. -The situation of the house was good. High hills rose -immediately behind, and at no great distance on each side -some of which were open downs, the others cultivated and woody. -The village of Barton was chiefly on one of these hills, -and formed a pleasant view from the cottage windows. -The prospect in front was more extensive it commanded the -whole of the valley, and reached into the country beyond. -The hills which surrounded the cottage terminated -the valley in that direction under another name, -and in another course, it branched out again between two -of the steepest of them. -With the size and furniture of the house Mrs. Dashwood -was upon the whole well satisfied for though her former -style of life rendered many additions to the latter -indispensable, yet to add and improve was a delight to her -and she had at this time ready money enough to supply all -that was wanted of greater elegance to the apartments. -"As for the house itself, to be sure," said she, "it is -too small for our family, but we will make ourselves -tolerably comfortable for the present, as it is too late -in the year for improvements. Perhaps in the spring, -if I have plenty of money, as I dare say I shall, we may -think about building. These parlors are both too small -for such parties of our friends as I hope to see often -collected here and I have some thoughts of throwing the -passage into one of them with perhaps a part of the other, -and so leave the remainder of that other for an entrance -this, with a new drawing room which may be easily added, -and a bedchamber and garret above, will make it a very snug -little cottage. I could wish the stairs were handsome. -But one must not expect every thing though I suppose it -would be no difficult matter to widen them. I shall see -how much I am beforehand with the world in the spring, -and we will plan our improvements accordingly." -In the mean time, till all these alterations could -be made from the savings of an income of five hundred -ayear by a woman who never saved in her life, they were -wise enough to be contented with the house as it was -and each of them was busy in arranging their particular -concerns, and endeavoring, by placing around them books -and other possessions, to form themselves a home. -Marianne's pianoforte was unpacked and properly disposed of -and Elinor's drawings were affixed to the walls of their -sitting room. -In such employments as these they were interrupted -soon after breakfast the next day by the entrance of -their landlord, who called to welcome them to Barton, -and to offer them every accommodation from his own house -and garden in which theirs might at present be deficient. -Sir John Middleton was a good looking man about forty. -He had formerly visited at Stanhill, but it was too long -for his young cousins to remember him. His countenance -was thoroughly goodhumoured and his manners were -as friendly as the style of his letter. Their arrival -seemed to afford him real satisfaction, and their comfort -to be an object of real solicitude to him. He said much -of his earnest desire of their living in the most sociable -terms with his family, and pressed them so cordially -to dine at Barton Park every day till they were better -settled at home, that, though his entreaties were carried -to a point of perseverance beyond civility, they could -not give offence. His kindness was not confined to words -for within an hour after he left them, a large basket -full of garden stuff and fruit arrived from the park, -which was followed before the end of the day by a present -of game. He insisted, moreover, on conveying all their -letters to and from the post for them, and would not be -denied the satisfaction of sending them his newspaper -every day. -Lady Middleton had sent a very civil message by him, -denoting her intention of waiting on Mrs. Dashwood as soon as -she could be assured that her visit would be no inconvenience -and as this message was answered by an invitation -equally polite, her ladyship was introduced to them the next day. -They were, of course, very anxious to see a person on -whom so much of their comfort at Barton must depend and the -elegance of her appearance was favourable to their wishes. -Lady Middleton was not more than six or seven and twenty -her face was handsome, her figure tall and striking, -and her address graceful. Her manners had all the elegance -which her husband's wanted. But they would have been -improved by some share of his frankness and warmth -and her visit was long enough to detract something from -their first admiration, by shewing that, though perfectly -wellbred, she was reserved, cold, and had nothing to say -for herself beyond the most commonplace inquiry or remark. -Conversation however was not wanted, for Sir John -was very chatty, and Lady Middleton had taken the wise -precaution of bringing with her their eldest child, a fine -little boy about six years old, by which means there was -one subject always to be recurred to by the ladies in case -of extremity, for they had to enquire his name and age, -admire his beauty, and ask him questions which his mother -answered for him, while he hung about her and held -down his head, to the great surprise of her ladyship, -who wondered at his being so shy before company, as he -could make noise enough at home. On every formal visit -a child ought to be of the party, by way of provision -for discourse. In the present case it took up ten minutes -to determine whether the boy were most like his father -or mother, and in what particular he resembled either, -for of course every body differed, and every body was -astonished at the opinion of the others. -An opportunity was soon to be given to the Dashwoods -of debating on the rest of the children, as Sir John -would not leave the house without securing their promise -of dining at the park the next day. -CHAPTER -Barton Park was about half a mile from the cottage. -The ladies had passed near it in their way along the valley, -but it was screened from their view at home by the -projection of a hill. The house was large and handsome -and the Middletons lived in a style of equal hospitality -and elegance. The former was for Sir John's gratification, -the latter for that of his lady. They were scarcely -ever without some friends staying with them in the house, -and they kept more company of every kind than any other -family in the neighbourhood. It was necessary to the -happiness of both for however dissimilar in temper -and outward behaviour, they strongly resembled each other -in that total want of talent and taste which confined -their employments, unconnected with such as society produced, -within a very narrow compass. Sir John was a sportsman, -Lady Middleton a mother. He hunted and shot, and she -humoured her children and these were their only resources. -Lady Middleton had the advantage of being able to spoil her -children all the year round, while Sir John's independent -employments were in existence only half the time. -Continual engagements at home and abroad, however, -supplied all the deficiencies of nature and education -supported the good spirits of Sir John, and gave exercise -to the good breeding of his wife. -Lady Middleton piqued herself upon the elegance -of her table, and of all her domestic arrangements -and from this kind of vanity was her greatest enjoyment -in any of their parties. But Sir John's satisfaction -in society was much more real he delighted in collecting -about him more young people than his house would hold, -and the noisier they were the better was he pleased. -He was a blessing to all the juvenile part of the neighbourhood, -for in summer he was for ever forming parties to eat cold -ham and chicken out of doors, and in winter his private -balls were numerous enough for any young lady who was not -suffering under the unsatiable appetite of fifteen. -The arrival of a new family in the country was always -a matter of joy to him, and in every point of view he was -charmed with the inhabitants he had now procured for his -cottage at Barton. The Miss Dashwoods were young, pretty, -and unaffected. It was enough to secure his good opinion -for to be unaffected was all that a pretty girl could -want to make her mind as captivating as her person. -The friendliness of his disposition made him happy in -accommodating those, whose situation might be considered, -in comparison with the past, as unfortunate. In showing -kindness to his cousins therefore he had the real satisfaction -of a good heart and in settling a family of females only -in his cottage, he had all the satisfaction of a sportsman -for a sportsman, though he esteems only those of his sex who -are sportsmen likewise, is not often desirous of encouraging -their taste by admitting them to a residence within his own -manor. -Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were met at the door -of the house by Sir John, who welcomed them to Barton -Park with unaffected sincerity and as he attended them -to the drawing room repeated to the young ladies the concern -which the same subject had drawn from him the day before, -at being unable to get any smart young men to meet them. -They would see, he said, only one gentleman there -besides himself a particular friend who was staying at -the park, but who was neither very young nor very gay. -He hoped they would all excuse the smallness of the party, -and could assure them it should never happen so again. -He had been to several families that morning in hopes -of procuring some addition to their number, but it -was moonlight and every body was full of engagements. -Luckily Lady Middleton's mother had arrived at Barton -within the last hour, and as she was a very cheerful -agreeable woman, he hoped the young ladies would not find -it so very dull as they might imagine. The young ladies, -as well as their mother, were perfectly satisfied with -having two entire strangers of the party, and wished for -no more. -Mrs. Jennings, Lady Middleton's mother, was a -goodhumoured, merry, fat, elderly woman, who talked a -great deal, seemed very happy, and rather vulgar. She was full -of jokes and laughter, and before dinner was over had said -many witty things on the subject of lovers and husbands -hoped they had not left their hearts behind them in Sussex, -and pretended to see them blush whether they did or not. -Marianne was vexed at it for her sister's sake, and turned -her eyes towards Elinor to see how she bore these attacks, -with an earnestness which gave Elinor far more pain than -could arise from such commonplace raillery as Mrs. Jennings's. -Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no -more adapted by resemblance of manner to be his friend, -than Lady Middleton was to be his wife, or Mrs. Jennings -to be Lady Middleton's mother. He was silent and grave. -His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite -of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret -an absolute old bachelor, for he was on the wrong side -of five and thirty but though his face was not handsome, -his countenance was sensible, and his address was -particularly gentlemanlike. -There was nothing in any of the party which could -recommend them as companions to the Dashwoods but the cold -insipidity of Lady Middleton was so particularly repulsive, -that in comparison of it the gravity of Colonel Brandon, -and even the boisterous mirth of Sir John and his -motherinlaw was interesting. Lady Middleton seemed -to be roused to enjoyment only by the entrance of her -four noisy children after dinner, who pulled her about, -tore her clothes, and put an end to every kind of discourse -except what related to themselves. -In the evening, as Marianne was discovered to be musical, -she was invited to play. The instrument was unlocked, -every body prepared to be charmed, and Marianne, -who sang very well, at their request went through the -chief of the songs which Lady Middleton had brought into -the family on her marriage, and which perhaps had lain -ever since in the same position on the pianoforte, -for her ladyship had celebrated that event by giving -up music, although by her mother's account, she had -played extremely well, and by her own was very fond of it. -Marianne's performance was highly applauded. -Sir John was loud in his admiration at the end of every song, -and as loud in his conversation with the others while every -song lasted. Lady Middleton frequently called him to order, -wondered how any one's attention could be diverted from music -for a moment, and asked Marianne to sing a particular song -which Marianne had just finished. Colonel Brandon alone, -of all the party, heard her without being in raptures. -He paid her only the compliment of attention and she felt -a respect for him on the occasion, which the others had -reasonably forfeited by their shameless want of taste. -His pleasure in music, though it amounted not to that -ecstatic delight which alone could sympathize with her own, -was estimable when contrasted against the horrible -insensibility of the others and she was reasonable enough -to allow that a man of five and thirty might well have -outlived all acuteness of feeling and every exquisite -power of enjoyment. She was perfectly disposed to make -every allowance for the colonel's advanced state of life -which humanity required. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Jennings was a widow with an ample jointure. -She had only two daughters, both of whom she had lived -to see respectably married, and she had now therefore -nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world. -In the promotion of this object she was zealously active, -as far as her ability reached and missed no opportunity -of projecting weddings among all the young people -of her acquaintance. She was remarkably quick in the -discovery of attachments, and had enjoyed the advantage -of raising the blushes and the vanity of many a young -lady by insinuations of her power over such a young man -and this kind of discernment enabled her soon after her -arrival at Barton decisively to pronounce that Colonel -Brandon was very much in love with Marianne Dashwood. -She rather suspected it to be so, on the very first -evening of their being together, from his listening -so attentively while she sang to them and when the visit -was returned by the Middletons' dining at the cottage, -the fact was ascertained by his listening to her again. -It must be so. She was perfectly convinced of it. -It would be an excellent match, for HE was rich, and SHE -was handsome. Mrs. Jennings had been anxious to see -Colonel Brandon well married, ever since her connection -with Sir John first brought him to her knowledge -and she was always anxious to get a good husband for every -pretty girl. -The immediate advantage to herself was by no means -inconsiderable, for it supplied her with endless jokes -against them both. At the park she laughed at the colonel, -and in the cottage at Marianne. To the former her -raillery was probably, as far as it regarded only himself, -perfectly indifferent but to the latter it was at -first incomprehensible and when its object was understood, -she hardly knew whether most to laugh at its absurdity, -or censure its impertinence, for she considered it as an -unfeeling reflection on the colonel's advanced years, -and on his forlorn condition as an old bachelor. -Mrs. Dashwood, who could not think a man five years -younger than herself, so exceedingly ancient as he appeared -to the youthful fancy of her daughter, ventured to clear -Mrs. Jennings from the probability of wishing to throw -ridicule on his age. -"But at least, Mamma, you cannot deny the absurdity -of the accusation, though you may not think it intentionally -illnatured. Colonel Brandon is certainly younger than -Mrs. Jennings, but he is old enough to be MY father -and if he were ever animated enough to be in love, -must have long outlived every sensation of the kind. -It is too ridiculous When is a man to be safe from such wit, -if age and infirmity will not protect him?" -"Infirmity" said Elinor, "do you call Colonel Brandon -infirm? I can easily suppose that his age may appear much -greater to you than to my mother but you can hardly -deceive yourself as to his having the use of his limbs" -"Did not you hear him complain of the rheumatism? -and is not that the commonest infirmity of declining life?" -"My dearest child," said her mother, laughing, -"at this rate you must be in continual terror of MY decay -and it must seem to you a miracle that my life has been -extended to the advanced age of forty." -"Mamma, you are not doing me justice. I know very well -that Colonel Brandon is not old enough to make his friends -yet apprehensive of losing him in the course of nature. -He may live twenty years longer. But thirtyfive has -nothing to do with matrimony." -"Perhaps," said Elinor, "thirtyfive and seventeen had -better not have any thing to do with matrimony together. -But if there should by any chance happen to be a woman -who is single at seven and twenty, I should not think -Colonel Brandon's being thirtyfive any objection to his -marrying HER." -"A woman of seven and twenty," said Marianne, -after pausing a moment, "can never hope to feel or inspire -affection again, and if her home be uncomfortable, -or her fortune small, I can suppose that she might -bring herself to submit to the offices of a nurse, -for the sake of the provision and security of a wife. -In his marrying such a woman therefore there would be -nothing unsuitable. It would be a compact of convenience, -and the world would be satisfied. In my eyes it would -be no marriage at all, but that would be nothing. -To me it would seem only a commercial exchange, in which -each wished to be benefited at the expense of the other." -"It would be impossible, I know," replied Elinor, -"to convince you that a woman of seven and twenty could -feel for a man of thirtyfive anything near enough -to love, to make him a desirable companion to her. -But I must object to your dooming Colonel Brandon and -his wife to the constant confinement of a sick chamber, -merely because he chanced to complain yesterday a -very cold damp day of a slight rheumatic feel in one -of his shoulders." -"But he talked of flannel waistcoats," said Marianne -"and with me a flannel waistcoat is invariably connected -with aches, cramps, rheumatisms, and every species of -ailment that can afflict the old and the feeble." -"Had he been only in a violent fever, you would not -have despised him half so much. Confess, Marianne, is not -there something interesting to you in the flushed cheek, -hollow eye, and quick pulse of a fever?" -Soon after this, upon Elinor's leaving the room, -"Mamma," said Marianne, "I have an alarm on the subject -of illness which I cannot conceal from you. I am sure -Edward Ferrars is not well. We have now been here almost -a fortnight, and yet he does not come. Nothing but real -indisposition could occasion this extraordinary delay. -What else can detain him at Norland?" -"Had you any idea of his coming so soon?" -said Mrs. Dashwood. "I had none. On the contrary, -if I have felt any anxiety at all on the subject, it has -been in recollecting that he sometimes showed a want -of pleasure and readiness in accepting my invitation, -when I talked of his coming to Barton. Does Elinor -expect him already?" -"I have never mentioned it to her, but of course -she must." -"I rather think you are mistaken, for when I -was talking to her yesterday of getting a new grate -for the spare bedchamber, she observed that there -was no immediate hurry for it, as it was not likely -that the room would be wanted for some time." -"How strange this is what can be the meaning of it -But the whole of their behaviour to each other has been -unaccountable How cold, how composed were their last -adieus How languid their conversation the last evening -of their being together In Edward's farewell there was no -distinction between Elinor and me it was the good wishes -of an affectionate brother to both. Twice did I leave -them purposely together in the course of the last morning, -and each time did he most unaccountably follow me out -of the room. And Elinor, in quitting Norland and Edward, -cried not as I did. Even now her selfcommand is invariable. -When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try -to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied -in it?" -CHAPTER -The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable -comfort to themselves. The house and the garden, with all -the objects surrounding them, were now become familiar, -and the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland -half its charms were engaged in again with far greater -enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the -loss of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called -on them every day for the first fortnight, and who was -not in the habit of seeing much occupation at home, -could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed. -Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, -were not many for, in spite of Sir John's urgent entreaties -that they would mix more in the neighbourhood, and repeated -assurances of his carriage being always at their service, -the independence of Mrs. Dashwood's spirit overcame the -wish of society for her children and she was resolute -in declining to visit any family beyond the distance -of a walk. There were but few who could be so classed -and it was not all of them that were attainable. -About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow -winding valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, -as formerly described, the girls had, in one of their -earliest walks, discovered an ancient respectable looking -mansion which, by reminding them a little of Norland, -interested their imagination and made them wish to be -better acquainted with it. But they learnt, on enquiry, -that its possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, -was unfortunately too infirm to mix with the world, -and never stirred from home. -The whole country about them abounded in beautiful walks. -The high downs which invited them from almost every window -of the cottage to seek the exquisite enjoyment of air -on their summits, were a happy alternative when the dirt -of the valleys beneath shut up their superior beauties -and towards one of these hills did Marianne and Margaret -one memorable morning direct their steps, attracted by the -partial sunshine of a showery sky, and unable longer to bear -the confinement which the settled rain of the two preceding -days had occasioned. The weather was not tempting enough -to draw the two others from their pencil and their book, -in spite of Marianne's declaration that the day would -be lastingly fair, and that every threatening cloud would -be drawn off from their hills and the two girls set off -together. -They gaily ascended the downs, rejoicing in their own -penetration at every glimpse of blue sky and when they -caught in their faces the animating gales of a high -southwesterly wind, they pitied the fears which had prevented -their mother and Elinor from sharing such delightful sensations. -"Is there a felicity in the world," said Marianne, -"superior to this?Margaret, we will walk here at least -two hours." -Margaret agreed, and they pursued their way against -the wind, resisting it with laughing delight for about -twenty minutes longer, when suddenly the clouds united over -their heads, and a driving rain set full in their face. -Chagrined and surprised, they were obliged, though unwillingly, -to turn back, for no shelter was nearer than their own house. -One consolation however remained for them, to which the -exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety -it was that of running with all possible speed down the steep -side of the hill which led immediately to their garden gate. -They set off. Marianne had at first the advantage, -but a false step brought her suddenly to the ground -and Margaret, unable to stop herself to assist her, -was involuntarily hurried along, and reached the bottom -in safety. -A gentleman carrying a gun, with two pointers -playing round him, was passing up the hill and within -a few yards of Marianne, when her accident happened. -He put down his gun and ran to her assistance. She had -raised herself from the ground, but her foot had been -twisted in her fall, and she was scarcely able to stand. -The gentleman offered his services and perceiving that her -modesty declined what her situation rendered necessary, -took her up in his arms without farther delay, and carried -her down the hill. Then passing through the garden, -the gate of which had been left open by Margaret, he bore her -directly into the house, whither Margaret was just arrived, -and quitted not his hold till he had seated her in a chair -in the parlour. -Elinor and her mother rose up in amazement at -their entrance, and while the eyes of both were fixed -on him with an evident wonder and a secret admiration -which equally sprung from his appearance, he apologized -for his intrusion by relating its cause, in a manner -so frank and so graceful that his person, which was -uncommonly handsome, received additional charms from his voice -and expression. Had he been even old, ugly, and vulgar, -the gratitude and kindness of Mrs. Dashwood would -have been secured by any act of attention to her child -but the influence of youth, beauty, and elegance, -gave an interest to the action which came home to her feelings. -She thanked him again and again and, with a sweetness -of address which always attended her, invited him to -be seated. But this he declined, as he was dirty and wet. -Mrs. Dashwood then begged to know to whom she was obliged. -His name, he replied, was Willoughby, and his present -home was at Allenham, from whence he hoped she would -allow him the honour of calling tomorrow to enquire -after Miss Dashwood. The honour was readily granted, -and he then departed, to make himself still more interesting, -in the midst of a heavy rain. -His manly beauty and more than common gracefulness -were instantly the theme of general admiration, -and the laugh which his gallantry raised against Marianne -received particular spirit from his exterior attractions. -Marianne herself had seen less of his person that the rest, -for the confusion which crimsoned over her face, on his -lifting her up, had robbed her of the power of regarding -him after their entering the house. But she had seen -enough of him to join in all the admiration of the others, -and with an energy which always adorned her praise. -His person and air were equal to what her fancy had ever -drawn for the hero of a favourite story and in his carrying -her into the house with so little previous formality, there -was a rapidity of thought which particularly recommended -the action to her. Every circumstance belonging to him -was interesting. His name was good, his residence was in -their favourite village, and she soon found out that of all -manly dresses a shootingjacket was the most becoming. -Her imagination was busy, her reflections were pleasant, -and the pain of a sprained ankle was disregarded. -Sir John called on them as soon as the next interval -of fair weather that morning allowed him to get out -of doors and Marianne's accident being related to him, -he was eagerly asked whether he knew any gentleman -of the name of Willoughby at Allenham. -"Willoughby" cried Sir John "what, is HE -in the country? That is good news however I will -ride over tomorrow, and ask him to dinner on Thursday." -"You know him then," said Mrs. Dashwood. -"Know him to be sure I do. Why, he is down here -every year." -"And what sort of a young man is he?" -"As good a kind of fellow as ever lived, I assure you. -A very decent shot, and there is not a bolder rider -in England." -"And is that all you can say for him?" cried Marianne, -indignantly. "But what are his manners on more intimate -acquaintance? What his pursuits, his talents, and genius?" -Sir John was rather puzzled. -"Upon my soul," said he, "I do not know much about him -as to all THAT. But he is a pleasant, good humoured fellow, -and has got the nicest little black bitch of a pointer -I ever saw. Was she out with him today?" -But Marianne could no more satisfy him as to the -colour of Mr. Willoughby's pointer, than he could -describe to her the shades of his mind. -"But who is he?" said Elinor. "Where does he come -from? Has he a house at Allenham?" -On this point Sir John could give more certain intelligence -and he told them that Mr. Willoughby had no property -of his own in the country that he resided there only -while he was visiting the old lady at Allenham Court, -to whom he was related, and whose possessions he was -to inherit adding, "Yes, yes, he is very well worth -catching I can tell you, Miss Dashwood he has a pretty -little estate of his own in Somersetshire besides -and if I were you, I would not give him up to my -younger sister, in spite of all this tumbling down hills. -Miss Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself. -Brandon will be jealous, if she does not take care." -"I do not believe," said Mrs. Dashwood, with a -good humoured smile, "that Mr. Willoughby will be incommoded -by the attempts of either of MY daughters towards what -you call CATCHING him. It is not an employment to which -they have been brought up. Men are very safe with us, -let them be ever so rich. I am glad to find, however, -from what you say, that he is a respectable young man, -and one whose acquaintance will not be ineligible." -"He is as good a sort of fellow, I believe, -as ever lived," repeated Sir John. "I remember -last Christmas at a little hop at the park, he danced -from eight o'clock till four, without once sitting down." -"Did he indeed?" cried Marianne with sparkling eyes, -"and with elegance, with spirit?" -"Yes and he was up again at eight to ride to covert." -"That is what I like that is what a young man ought -to be. Whatever be his pursuits, his eagerness in them -should know no moderation, and leave him no sense of fatigue." -"Aye, aye, I see how it will be," said Sir John, "I see -how it will be. You will be setting your cap at him now, -and never think of poor Brandon." -"That is an expression, Sir John," said Marianne, -warmly, "which I particularly dislike. I abhor every -commonplace phrase by which wit is intended and 'setting -one's cap at a man,' or 'making a conquest,' are the most -odious of all. Their tendency is gross and illiberal -and if their construction could ever be deemed clever, -time has long ago destroyed all its ingenuity." -Sir John did not much understand this reproof -but he laughed as heartily as if he did, and then replied, -"Ay, you will make conquests enough, I dare say, -one way or other. Poor Brandon he is quite smitten already, -and he is very well worth setting your cap at, I can -tell you, in spite of all this tumbling about and spraining -of ankles." -CHAPTER -Marianne's preserver, as Margaret, with more elegance -than precision, styled Willoughby, called at the cottage -early the next morning to make his personal enquiries. -He was received by Mrs. Dashwood with more than politeness -with a kindness which Sir John's account of him and her own -gratitude prompted and every thing that passed during -the visit tended to assure him of the sense, elegance, -mutual affection, and domestic comfort of the family -to whom accident had now introduced him. Of their -personal charms he had not required a second interview -to be convinced. -Miss Dashwood had a delicate complexion, -regular features, and a remarkably pretty figure. -Marianne was still handsomer. Her form, though not so -correct as her sister's, in having the advantage of height, -was more striking and her face was so lovely, that when -in the common cant of praise, she was called a beautiful girl, -truth was less violently outraged than usually happens. -Her skin was very brown, but, from its transparency, -her complexion was uncommonly brilliant her features -were all good her smile was sweet and attractive -and in her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, -a spirit, an eagerness, which could hardily be seen -without delight. From Willoughby their expression was at -first held back, by the embarrassment which the remembrance -of his assistance created. But when this passed away, -when her spirits became collected, when she saw that to the -perfect goodbreeding of the gentleman, he united frankness -and vivacity, and above all, when she heard him declare, -that of music and dancing he was passionately fond, -she gave him such a look of approbation as secured the -largest share of his discourse to herself for the rest -of his stay. -It was only necessary to mention any favourite -amusement to engage her to talk. She could not be -silent when such points were introduced, and she -had neither shyness nor reserve in their discussion. -They speedily discovered that their enjoyment of dancing -and music was mutual, and that it arose from a general -conformity of judgment in all that related to either. -Encouraged by this to a further examination of his opinions, -she proceeded to question him on the subject of books -her favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt -upon with so rapturous a delight, that any young man of -five and twenty must have been insensible indeed, not to -become an immediate convert to the excellence of such works, -however disregarded before. Their taste was strikingly alike. -The same books, the same passages were idolized by each -or if any difference appeared, any objection arose, -it lasted no longer than till the force of her arguments -and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed. -He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught all her enthusiasm -and long before his visit concluded, they conversed -with the familiarity of a longestablished acquaintance. -"Well, Marianne," said Elinor, as soon as he had left them, -"for ONE morning I think you have done pretty well. -You have already ascertained Mr. Willoughby's opinion in -almost every matter of importance. You know what he thinks -of Cowper and Scott you are certain of his estimating -their beauties as he ought, and you have received every -assurance of his admiring Pope no more than is proper. -But how is your acquaintance to be long supported, under such -extraordinary despatch of every subject for discourse? -You will soon have exhausted each favourite topic. -Another meeting will suffice to explain his sentiments -on picturesque beauty, and second marriages, and then -you can have nothing farther to ask." -"Elinor," cried Marianne, "is this fair? is this -just? are my ideas so scanty? But I see what you mean. -I have been too much at my ease, too happy, too frank. -I have erred against every commonplace notion of decorum -I have been open and sincere where I ought to have -been reserved, spiritless, dull, and deceitfulhad -I talked only of the weather and the roads, and had I -spoken only once in ten minutes, this reproach would have -been spared." -"My love," said her mother, "you must not be offended -with Elinorshe was only in jest. I should scold -her myself, if she were capable of wishing to check -the delight of your conversation with our new friend." -Marianne was softened in a moment. -Willoughby, on his side, gave every proof of his -pleasure in their acquaintance, which an evident wish -of improving it could offer. He came to them every day. -To enquire after Marianne was at first his excuse but the -encouragement of his reception, to which every day gave -greater kindness, made such an excuse unnecessary before it -had ceased to be possible, by Marianne's perfect recovery. -She was confined for some days to the house but never had -any confinement been less irksome. Willoughby was a young -man of good abilities, quick imagination, lively spirits, -and open, affectionate manners. He was exactly formed -to engage Marianne's heart, for with all this, he joined -not only a captivating person, but a natural ardour -of mind which was now roused and increased by the example -of her own, and which recommended him to her affection -beyond every thing else. -His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment. -They read, they talked, they sang together his musical -talents were considerable and he read with all the -sensibility and spirit which Edward had unfortunately wanted. -In Mrs. Dashwood's estimation he was as faultless -as in Marianne's and Elinor saw nothing to censure in him -but a propensity, in which he strongly resembled and peculiarly -delighted her sister, of saying too much what he thought on -every occasion, without attention to persons or circumstances. -In hastily forming and giving his opinion of other people, -in sacrificing general politeness to the enjoyment -of undivided attention where his heart was engaged, -and in slighting too easily the forms of worldly propriety, -he displayed a want of caution which Elinor could not approve, -in spite of all that he and Marianne could say in its support. -Marianne began now to perceive that the desperation -which had seized her at sixteen and a half, of ever -seeing a man who could satisfy her ideas of perfection, -had been rash and unjustifiable. Willoughby was all -that her fancy had delineated in that unhappy hour -and in every brighter period, as capable of attaching her -and his behaviour declared his wishes to be in that respect -as earnest, as his abilities were strong. -Her mother too, in whose mind not one speculative -thought of their marriage had been raised, by his prospect -of riches, was led before the end of a week to hope and -expect it and secretly to congratulate herself on having -gained two such sonsinlaw as Edward and Willoughby. -Colonel Brandon's partiality for Marianne, which had -so early been discovered by his friends, now first became -perceptible to Elinor, when it ceased to be noticed -by them. Their attention and wit were drawn off to his -more fortunate rival and the raillery which the other -had incurred before any partiality arose, was removed -when his feelings began really to call for the ridicule -so justly annexed to sensibility. Elinor was obliged, -though unwillingly, to believe that the sentiments which -Mrs. Jennings had assigned him for her own satisfaction, -were now actually excited by her sister and that however -a general resemblance of disposition between the parties -might forward the affection of Mr. Willoughby, an equally -striking opposition of character was no hindrance to the -regard of Colonel Brandon. She saw it with concern -for what could a silent man of five and thirty hope, -when opposed to a very lively one of five and twenty? and as -she could not even wish him successful, she heartily wished -him indifferent. She liked himin spite of his gravity -and reserve, she beheld in him an object of interest. -His manners, though serious, were mild and his reserve -appeared rather the result of some oppression of spirits -than of any natural gloominess of temper. Sir John -had dropped hints of past injuries and disappointments, -which justified her belief of his being an unfortunate man, -and she regarded him with respect and compassion. -Perhaps she pitied and esteemed him the more -because he was slighted by Willoughby and Marianne, -who, prejudiced against him for being neither lively -nor young, seemed resolved to undervalue his merits. -"Brandon is just the kind of man," said Willoughby -one day, when they were talking of him together, -"whom every body speaks well of, and nobody cares about -whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers -to talk to." -"That is exactly what I think of him," cried Marianne. -"Do not boast of it, however," said Elinor, "for it -is injustice in both of you. He is highly esteemed -by all the family at the park, and I never see him myself -without taking pains to converse with him." -"That he is patronised by YOU," replied Willoughby, -"is certainly in his favour but as for the esteem -of the others, it is a reproach in itself. Who would -submit to the indignity of being approved by such a woman -as Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, that could command -the indifference of any body else?" -"But perhaps the abuse of such people as yourself -and Marianne will make amends for the regard of Lady -Middleton and her mother. If their praise is censure, -your censure may be praise, for they are not more undiscerning, -than you are prejudiced and unjust." -"In defence of your protege you can even be saucy." -"My protege, as you call him, is a sensible man -and sense will always have attractions for me. -Yes, Marianne, even in a man between thirty and forty. -He has seen a great deal of the world has been abroad, -has read, and has a thinking mind. I have found him -capable of giving me much information on various subjects -and he has always answered my inquiries with readiness of -goodbreeding and good nature." -"That is to say," cried Marianne contemptuously, -"he has told you, that in the East Indies the climate is hot, -and the mosquitoes are troublesome." -"He WOULD have told me so, I doubt not, had I made -any such inquiries, but they happened to be points -on which I had been previously informed." -"Perhaps," said Willoughby, "his observations may -have extended to the existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, -and palanquins." -"I may venture to say that HIS observations -have stretched much further than your candour. -But why should you dislike him?" -"I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, -as a very respectable man, who has every body's good word, -and nobody's notice who, has more money than he can spend, -more time than he knows how to employ, and two new coats -every year." -"Add to which," cried Marianne, "that he has -neither genius, taste, nor spirit. That his understanding -has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardour, and his voice -no expression." -"You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass," -replied Elinor, "and so much on the strength of your -own imagination, that the commendation I am able to give -of him is comparatively cold and insipid. I can only -pronounce him to be a sensible man, wellbred, wellinformed, -of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an amiable heart." -"Miss Dashwood," cried Willoughby, "you are now using -me unkindly. You are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, -and to convince me against my will. But it will not do. -You shall find me as stubborn as you can be artful. I have -three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel Brandon -he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine -he has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, -and I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare. If it -will be any satisfaction to you, however, to be told, -that I believe his character to be in other respects -irreproachable, I am ready to confess it. And in return -for an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, -you cannot deny me the privilege of disliking him as much -as ever." -CHAPTER -Little had Mrs. Dashwood or her daughters imagined -when they first came into Devonshire, that so many -engagements would arise to occupy their time as shortly -presented themselves, or that they should have such frequent -invitations and such constant visitors as to leave them little -leisure for serious employment. Yet such was the case. -When Marianne was recovered, the schemes of amusement at home -and abroad, which Sir John had been previously forming, -were put into execution. The private balls at the park -then began and parties on the water were made and -accomplished as often as a showery October would allow. -In every meeting of the kind Willoughby was included -and the ease and familiarity which naturally attended -these parties were exactly calculated to give increasing -intimacy to his acquaintance with the Dashwoods, to afford -him opportunity of witnessing the excellencies of Marianne, -of marking his animated admiration of her, and of receiving, -in her behaviour to himself, the most pointed assurance -of her affection. -Elinor could not be surprised at their attachment. -She only wished that it were less openly shewn and once -or twice did venture to suggest the propriety of some -selfcommand to Marianne. But Marianne abhorred all -concealment where no real disgrace could attend unreserve -and to aim at the restraint of sentiments which were not -in themselves illaudable, appeared to her not merely -an unnecessary effort, but a disgraceful subjection -of reason to commonplace and mistaken notions. -Willoughby thought the same and their behaviour at -all times, was an illustration of their opinions. -When he was present she had no eyes for any one else. -Every thing he did, was right. Every thing he said, was clever. -If their evenings at the park were concluded with cards, -he cheated himself and all the rest of the party to get -her a good hand. If dancing formed the amusement -of the night, they were partners for half the time -and when obliged to separate for a couple of dances, -were careful to stand together and scarcely spoke a word -to any body else. Such conduct made them of course -most exceedingly laughed at but ridicule could not shame, -and seemed hardly to provoke them. -Mrs. Dashwood entered into all their feelings with -a warmth which left her no inclination for checking this -excessive display of them. To her it was but the natural -consequence of a strong affection in a young and ardent mind. -This was the season of happiness to Marianne. -Her heart was devoted to Willoughby, and the fond attachment -to Norland, which she brought with her from Sussex, -was more likely to be softened than she had thought it -possible before, by the charms which his society bestowed -on her present home. -Elinor's happiness was not so great. Her heart was not -so much at ease, nor her satisfaction in their amusements -so pure. They afforded her no companion that could make -amends for what she had left behind, nor that could teach -her to think of Norland with less regret than ever. -Neither Lady Middleton nor Mrs. Jennings could supply -to her the conversation she missed although the latter -was an everlasting talker, and from the first had regarded -her with a kindness which ensured her a large share of -her discourse. She had already repeated her own history -to Elinor three or four times and had Elinor's memory been -equal to her means of improvement, she might have known -very early in their acquaintance all the particulars of -Mr. Jenning's last illness, and what he said to his wife -a few minutes before he died. Lady Middleton was more -agreeable than her mother only in being more silent. -Elinor needed little observation to perceive that her -reserve was a mere calmness of manner with which sense -had nothing to do. Towards her husband and mother she -was the same as to them and intimacy was therefore -neither to be looked for nor desired. She had nothing -to say one day that she had not said the day before. -Her insipidity was invariable, for even her spirits were -always the same and though she did not oppose the parties -arranged by her husband, provided every thing were conducted -in style and her two eldest children attended her, -she never appeared to receive more enjoyment from them -than she might have experienced in sitting at home -and so little did her presence add to the pleasure -of the others, by any share in their conversation, -that they were sometimes only reminded of her being -amongst them by her solicitude about her troublesome boys. -In Colonel Brandon alone, of all her new acquaintance, -did Elinor find a person who could in any degree claim the -respect of abilities, excite the interest of friendship, -or give pleasure as a companion. Willoughby was out -of the question. Her admiration and regard, even her -sisterly regard, was all his own but he was a lover -his attentions were wholly Marianne's, and a far less -agreeable man might have been more generally pleasing. -Colonel Brandon, unfortunately for himself, had no such -encouragement to think only of Marianne, and in conversing -with Elinor he found the greatest consolation for the -indifference of her sister. -Elinor's compassion for him increased, as she had reason -to suspect that the misery of disappointed love had already -been known to him. This suspicion was given by some words -which accidently dropped from him one evening at the park, -when they were sitting down together by mutual consent, -while the others were dancing. His eyes were fixed -on Marianne, and, after a silence of some minutes, -he said, with a faint smile, "Your sister, I understand, -does not approve of second attachments." -"No," replied Elinor, "her opinions are all romantic." -"Or rather, as I believe, she considers them -impossible to exist." -"I believe she does. But how she contrives it -without reflecting on the character of her own father, -who had himself two wives, I know not. A few years -however will settle her opinions on the reasonable basis -of common sense and observation and then they may be -more easy to define and to justify than they now are, -by any body but herself." -"This will probably be the case," he replied -"and yet there is something so amiable in the prejudices -of a young mind, that one is sorry to see them give way -to the reception of more general opinions." -"I cannot agree with you there," said Elinor. -"There are inconveniences attending such feelings -as Marianne's, which all the charms of enthusiasm and -ignorance of the world cannot atone for. Her systems have -all the unfortunate tendency of setting propriety at nought -and a better acquaintance with the world is what I look -forward to as her greatest possible advantage." -After a short pause he resumed the conversation -by saying, -"Does your sister make no distinction in her objections -against a second attachment? or is it equally criminal -in every body? Are those who have been disappointed -in their first choice, whether from the inconstancy -of its object, or the perverseness of circumstances, -to be equally indifferent during the rest of their lives?" -"Upon my word, I am not acquainted with the minutiae -of her principles. I only know that I never yet heard her -admit any instance of a second attachment's being pardonable." -"This," said he, "cannot hold but a change, -a total change of sentimentsNo, no, do not desire it -for when the romantic refinements of a young mind -are obliged to give way, how frequently are they -succeeded by such opinions as are but too common, and too -dangerous I speak from experience. I once knew a lady -who in temper and mind greatly resembled your sister, -who thought and judged like her, but who from an inforced -changefrom a series of unfortunate circumstances" -Here he stopt suddenly appeared to think that he had said -too much, and by his countenance gave rise to conjectures, -which might not otherwise have entered Elinor's head. -The lady would probably have passed without suspicion, -had he not convinced Miss Dashwood that what concerned -her ought not to escape his lips. As it was, -it required but a slight effort of fancy to connect his -emotion with the tender recollection of past regard. -Elinor attempted no more. But Marianne, in her place, -would not have done so little. The whole story would -have been speedily formed under her active imagination -and every thing established in the most melancholy order -of disastrous love. -CHAPTER -As Elinor and Marianne were walking together the -next morning the latter communicated a piece of news -to her sister, which in spite of all that she knew -before of Marianne's imprudence and want of thought, -surprised her by its extravagant testimony of both. -Marianne told her, with the greatest delight, that -Willoughby had given her a horse, one that he had bred -himself on his estate in Somersetshire, and which was -exactly calculated to carry a woman. Without considering -that it was not in her mother's plan to keep any horse, -that if she were to alter her resolution in favour of -this gift, she must buy another for the servant, and -keep a servant to ride it, and after all, build a stable -to receive them, she had accepted the present without -hesitation, and told her sister of it in raptures. -"He intends to send his groom into Somersetshire -immediately for it," she added, "and when it arrives we -will ride every day. You shall share its use with me. -Imagine to yourself, my dear Elinor, the delight of a gallop -on some of these downs." -Most unwilling was she to awaken from such a dream of -felicity to comprehend all the unhappy truths which attended -the affair and for some time she refused to submit to them. -As to an additional servant, the expense would be a trifle -Mamma she was sure would never object to it and any horse -would do for HIM he might always get one at the park -as to a stable, the merest shed would be sufficient. -Elinor then ventured to doubt the propriety of her receiving -such a present from a man so little, or at least so lately -known to her. This was too much. -"You are mistaken, Elinor," said she warmly, -"in supposing I know very little of Willoughby. -I have not known him long indeed, but I am much better -acquainted with him, than I am with any other creature -in the world, except yourself and mama. It is not -time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy -it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient -to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven -days are more than enough for others. I should hold -myself guilty of greater impropriety in accepting a horse -from my brother, than from Willoughby. Of John I know -very little, though we have lived together for years -but of Willoughby my judgment has long been formed." -Elinor thought it wisest to touch that point no more. -She knew her sister's temper. Opposition on so tender a -subject would only attach her the more to her own opinion. -But by an appeal to her affection for her mother, -by representing the inconveniences which that indulgent -mother must draw on herself, if as would probably be -the case she consented to this increase of establishment, -Marianne was shortly subdued and she promised not to -tempt her mother to such imprudent kindness by mentioning -the offer, and to tell Willoughby when she saw him next, -that it must be declined. -She was faithful to her word and when Willoughby -called at the cottage, the same day, Elinor heard her -express her disappointment to him in a low voice, on -being obliged to forego the acceptance of his present. -The reasons for this alteration were at the same time related, -and they were such as to make further entreaty on his -side impossible. His concern however was very apparent -and after expressing it with earnestness, he added, -in the same low voice,"But, Marianne, the horse is -still yours, though you cannot use it now. I shall keep -it only till you can claim it. When you leave Barton -to form your own establishment in a more lasting home, -Queen Mab shall receive you." -This was all overheard by Miss Dashwood and in the -whole of the sentence, in his manner of pronouncing it, -and in his addressing her sister by her Christian name alone, -she instantly saw an intimacy so decided, a meaning -so direct, as marked a perfect agreement between them. -From that moment she doubted not of their being engaged -to each other and the belief of it created no other surprise -than that she, or any of their friends, should be left -by tempers so frank, to discover it by accident. -Margaret related something to her the next day, -which placed this matter in a still clearer light. -Willoughby had spent the preceding evening with them, -and Margaret, by being left some time in the parlour -with only him and Marianne, had had opportunity -for observations, which, with a most important face, -she communicated to her eldest sister, when they were -next by themselves. -"Oh, Elinor" she cried, "I have such a secret to -tell you about Marianne. I am sure she will be married -to Mr. Willoughby very soon." -"You have said so," replied Elinor, "almost every -day since they first met on Highchurch Down and they -had not known each other a week, I believe, before you -were certain that Marianne wore his picture round her neck -but it turned out to be only the miniature of our great uncle." -"But indeed this is quite another thing. I am sure -they will be married very soon, for he has got a lock -of her hair." -"Take care, Margaret. It may be only the hair -of some great uncle of HIS." -"But, indeed, Elinor, it is Marianne's. I am almost -sure it is, for I saw him cut it off. Last night -after tea, when you and mama went out of the room, -they were whispering and talking together as fast as -could be, and he seemed to be begging something of her, -and presently he took up her scissors and cut off a long -lock of her hair, for it was all tumbled down her back -and he kissed it, and folded it up in a piece of white paper -and put it into his pocketbook." -For such particulars, stated on such authority, -Elinor could not withhold her credit nor was she disposed -to it, for the circumstance was in perfect unison with -what she had heard and seen herself. -Margaret's sagacity was not always displayed in a -way so satisfactory to her sister. When Mrs. Jennings -attacked her one evening at the park, to give the name -of the young man who was Elinor's particular favourite, -which had been long a matter of great curiosity to her, -Margaret answered by looking at her sister, and saying, -"I must not tell, may I, Elinor?" -This of course made every body laugh and Elinor -tried to laugh too. But the effort was painful. -She was convinced that Margaret had fixed on a person -whose name she could not bear with composure to become -a standing joke with Mrs. Jennings. -Marianne felt for her most sincerely but she did -more harm than good to the cause, by turning very red -and saying in an angry manner to Margaret, -"Remember that whatever your conjectures may be, -you have no right to repeat them." -"I never had any conjectures about it," replied Margaret -"it was you who told me of it yourself." -This increased the mirth of the company, and Margaret -was eagerly pressed to say something more. -"Oh pray, Miss Margaret, let us know all about it," -said Mrs. Jennings. "What is the gentleman's name?" -"I must not tell, ma'am. But I know very well what it is -and I know where he is too." -"Yes, yes, we can guess where he is at his own house -at Norland to be sure. He is the curate of the parish -I dare say." -"No, THAT he is not. He is of no profession at all." -"Margaret," said Marianne with great warmth, -"you know that all this is an invention of your own, -and that there is no such person in existence." -"Well, then, he is lately dead, Marianne, for I -am sure there was such a man once, and his name begins -with an F." -Most grateful did Elinor feel to Lady Middleton -for observing, at this moment, "that it rained very hard," -though she believed the interruption to proceed less from -any attention to her, than from her ladyship's great dislike -of all such inelegant subjects of raillery as delighted -her husband and mother. The idea however started by her, -was immediately pursued by Colonel Brandon, who was -on every occasion mindful of the feelings of others -and much was said on the subject of rain by both of them. -Willoughby opened the pianoforte, and asked Marianne -to sit down to it and thus amidst the various endeavours -of different people to quit the topic, it fell to the ground. -But not so easily did Elinor recover from the alarm into -which it had thrown her. -A party was formed this evening for going on the -following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles -from Barton, belonging to a brotherinlaw of Colonel Brandon, -without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, -who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. -The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, -and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, -might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had -formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer -for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece -of water a sail on which was to a form a great part of -the morning's amusement cold provisions were to be taken, -open carriages only to be employed, and every thing -conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure. -To some few of the company it appeared rather -a bold undertaking, considering the time of year, -and that it had rained every day for the last fortnight -and Mrs. Dashwood, who had already a cold, was persuaded -by Elinor to stay at home. -CHAPTER -Their intended excursion to Whitwell turned out -very different from what Elinor had expected. She was -prepared to be wet through, fatigued, and frightened -but the event was still more unfortunate, for they did -not go at all. -By ten o'clock the whole party was assembled at -the park, where they were to breakfast. The morning -was rather favourable, though it had rained all night, -as the clouds were then dispersing across the sky, -and the sun frequently appeared. They were all in high -spirits and good humour, eager to be happy, and determined -to submit to the greatest inconveniences and hardships -rather than be otherwise. -While they were at breakfast the letters were brought in. -Among the rest there was one for Colonel Brandonhe -took it, looked at the direction, changed colour, -and immediately left the room. -"What is the matter with Brandon?" said Sir John. -Nobody could tell. -"I hope he has had no bad news," said Lady Middleton. -"It must be something extraordinary that could make Colonel -Brandon leave my breakfast table so suddenly." -In about five minutes he returned. -"No bad news, Colonel, I hope" said Mrs. Jennings, -as soon as he entered the room. -"None at all, ma'am, I thank you." -"Was it from Avignon? I hope it is not to say -that your sister is worse." -"No, ma'am. It came from town, and is merely -a letter of business." -"But how came the hand to discompose you so much, -if it was only a letter of business? Come, come, -this won't do, Colonel so let us hear the truth of it." -"My dear madam," said Lady Middleton, "recollect what -you are saying." -"Perhaps it is to tell you that your cousin Fanny -is married?" said Mrs. Jennings, without attending -to her daughter's reproof. -"No, indeed, it is not." -"Well, then, I know who it is from, Colonel. And I -hope she is well." -"Whom do you mean, ma'am?" said he, colouring a little. -"Oh you know who I mean." -"I am particularly sorry, ma'am," said he, -addressing Lady Middleton, "that I should receive this -letter today, for it is on business which requires -my immediate attendance in town." -"In town" cried Mrs. Jennings. "What can you -have to do in town at this time of year?" -"My own loss is great," he continued, "in being obliged -to leave so agreeable a party but I am the more concerned, -as I fear my presence is necessary to gain your admittance -at Whitwell." -What a blow upon them all was this -"But if you write a note to the housekeeper, Mr. Brandon," -said Marianne, eagerly, "will it not be sufficient?" -He shook his head. -"We must go," said Sir John."It shall not be put -off when we are so near it. You cannot go to town till -tomorrow, Brandon, that is all." -"I wish it could be so easily settled. But it -is not in my power to delay my journey for one day" -"If you would but let us know what your business is," -said Mrs. Jennings, "we might see whether it could be put -off or not." -"You would not be six hours later," said Willoughby, -"if you were to defer your journey till our return." -"I cannot afford to lose ONE hour." -Elinor then heard Willoughby say, in a low voice to Marianne, -"There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure. -Brandon is one of them. He was afraid of catching cold -I dare say, and invented this trick for getting out of it. -I would lay fifty guineas the letter was of his own writing." -"I have no doubt of it," replied Marianne. -"There is no persuading you to change your mind, -Brandon, I know of old," said Sir John, "when once you -are determined on anything. But, however, I hope you -will think better of it. Consider, here are the two Miss -Careys come over from Newton, the three Miss Dashwoods -walked up from the cottage, and Mr. Willoughby got up -two hours before his usual time, on purpose to go to Whitwell." -Colonel Brandon again repeated his sorrow at being -the cause of disappointing the party but at the same -time declared it to be unavoidable. -"Well, then, when will you come back again?" -"I hope we shall see you at Barton," added her ladyship, -"as soon as you can conveniently leave town and we must -put off the party to Whitwell till you return." -"You are very obliging. But it is so uncertain, -when I may have it in my power to return, that I dare -not engage for it at all." -"Oh he must and shall come back," cried Sir John. -"If he is not here by the end of the week, I shall go -after him." -"Ay, so do, Sir John," cried Mrs. Jennings, "and then -perhaps you may find out what his business is." -"I do not want to pry into other men's concerns. -I suppose it is something he is ashamed of." -Colonel Brandon's horses were announced. -"You do not go to town on horseback, do you?" -added Sir John. -"No. Only to Honiton. I shall then go post." -"Well, as you are resolved to go, I wish you -a good journey. But you had better change your mind." -"I assure you it is not in my power." -He then took leave of the whole party. -"Is there no chance of my seeing you and your sisters -in town this winter, Miss Dashwood?" -"I am afraid, none at all." -"Then I must bid you farewell for a longer time -than I should wish to do." -To Marianne, he merely bowed and said nothing. -"Come Colonel," said Mrs. Jennings, "before you go, -do let us know what you are going about." -He wished her a good morning, and, attended by Sir John, -left the room. -The complaints and lamentations which politeness -had hitherto restrained, now burst forth universally -and they all agreed again and again how provoking it was -to be so disappointed. -"I can guess what his business is, however," -said Mrs. Jennings exultingly. -"Can you, ma'am?" said almost every body. -"Yes it is about Miss Williams, I am sure." -"And who is Miss Williams?" asked Marianne. -"What do not you know who Miss Williams is? I am -sure you must have heard of her before. She is a relation -of the Colonel's, my dear a very near relation. We will -not say how near, for fear of shocking the young ladies." -Then, lowering her voice a little, she said to Elinor, -"She is his natural daughter." -"Indeed" -"Oh, yes and as like him as she can stare. -I dare say the Colonel will leave her all his fortune." -When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily -in the general regret on so unfortunate an event -concluding however by observing, that as they were -all got together, they must do something by way of -being happy and after some consultation it was agreed, -that although happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, -they might procure a tolerable composure of mind by driving -about the country. The carriages were then ordered -Willoughby's was first, and Marianne never looked -happier than when she got into it. He drove through -the park very fast, and they were soon out of sight -and nothing more of them was seen till their return, -which did not happen till after the return of all the rest. -They both seemed delighted with their drive but said -only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, -while the others went on the downs. -It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, -and that every body should be extremely merry all day long. -Some more of the Careys came to dinner, and they had the -pleasure of sitting down nearly twenty to table, which Sir -John observed with great contentment. Willoughby took -his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods. -Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor's right hand and they had not -been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, -and said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, -"I have found you out in spite of all your tricks. -I know where you spent the morning." -Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, -"Where, pray?" -"Did not you know," said Willoughby, "that we had -been out in my curricle?" -"Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, -and I was determined to find out WHERE you had been to. -I hope you like your house, Miss Marianne. It is a very -large one, I know and when I come to see you, I hope you -will have newfurnished it, for it wanted it very much -when I was there six years ago." -Marianne turned away in great confusion. -Mrs. Jennings laughed heartily and Elinor found that in her -resolution to know where they had been, she had actually -made her own woman enquire of Mr. Willoughby's groom -and that she had by that method been informed that they -had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there -in walking about the garden and going all over the house. -Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, -as it seemed very unlikely that Willoughby should propose, -or Marianne consent, to enter the house while Mrs. Smith was -in it, with whom Marianne had not the smallest acquaintance. -As soon as they left the diningroom, Elinor enquired -of her about it and great was her surprise when she -found that every circumstance related by Mrs. Jennings -was perfectly true. Marianne was quite angry with her -for doubting it. -"Why should you imagine, Elinor, that we did not -go there, or that we did not see the house? Is not it -what you have often wished to do yourself?" -"Yes, Marianne, but I would not go while Mrs. Smith -was there, and with no other companion than Mr. Willoughby." -"Mr. Willoughby however is the only person who can -have a right to shew that house and as he went in an open -carriage, it was impossible to have any other companion. -I never spent a pleasanter morning in my life." -"I am afraid," replied Elinor, "that the pleasantness -of an employment does not always evince its propriety." -"On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof -of it, Elinor for if there had been any real impropriety -in what I did, I should have been sensible of it at -the time, for we always know when we are acting wrong, -and with such a conviction I could have had no pleasure." -"But, my dear Marianne, as it has already exposed you -to some very impertinent remarks, do you not now begin -to doubt the discretion of your own conduct?" -"If the impertinent remarks of Mrs. Jennings are -to be the proof of impropriety in conduct, we are all -offending every moment of our lives. I value not her -censure any more than I should do her commendation. -I am not sensible of having done anything wrong in walking -over Mrs. Smith's grounds, or in seeing her house. -They will one day be Mr. Willoughby's, and" -"If they were one day to be your own, Marianne, -you would not be justified in what you have done." -She blushed at this hint but it was even visibly -gratifying to her and after a ten minutes' interval of -earnest thought, she came to her sister again, and said -with great good humour, "Perhaps, Elinor, it WAS rather -illjudged in me to go to Allenham but Mr. Willoughby wanted -particularly to shew me the place and it is a charming house, -I assure you.There is one remarkably pretty sitting room -up stairs of a nice comfortable size for constant use, -and with modern furniture it would be delightful. -It is a corner room, and has windows on two sides. -On one side you look across the bowlinggreen, behind -the house, to a beautiful hanging wood, and on the other you -have a view of the church and village, and, beyond them, -of those fine bold hills that we have so often admired. -I did not see it to advantage, for nothing could be -more forlorn than the furniture,but if it were newly -fitted upa couple of hundred pounds, Willoughby says, -would make it one of the pleasantest summerrooms -in England." -Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption -from the others, she would have described every room -in the house with equal delight. -CHAPTER -The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon's visit -at the park, with his steadiness in concealing its cause, -filled the mind, and raised the wonder of Mrs. Jennings -for two or three days she was a great wonderer, as every -one must be who takes a very lively interest in all the -comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, -with little intermission what could be the reason of it -was sure there must be some bad news, and thought over -every kind of distress that could have befallen him, -with a fixed determination that he should not escape -them all. -"Something very melancholy must be the matter, -I am sure," said she. "I could see it in his face. -Poor man I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. -The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand -a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. -I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, -for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. -I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it -is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, -because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. -May be she is ill in town nothing in the world more likely, -for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. -I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. -It is not so very likely he should be distressed in -his circumstances NOW, for he is a very prudent man, -and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. -I wonder what it can be May be his sister is worse -at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off -in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out -of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into -the bargain." -So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion -varying with every fresh conjecture, and all seeming -equally probable as they arose. Elinor, though she felt -really interested in the welfare of Colonel Brandon, -could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly -away, which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling -for besides that the circumstance did not in her opinion -justify such lasting amazement or variety of speculation, -her wonder was otherwise disposed of. It was engrossed -by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby -on the subject, which they must know to be peculiarly -interesting to them all. As this silence continued, -every day made it appear more strange and more incompatible -with the disposition of both. Why they should not openly -acknowledge to her mother and herself, what their constant -behaviour to each other declared to have taken place, -Elinor could not imagine. -She could easily conceive that marriage might not -be immediately in their power for though Willoughby -was independent, there was no reason to believe him rich. -His estate had been rated by Sir John at about six or seven -hundred a year but he lived at an expense to which that income -could hardly be equal, and he had himself often complained -of his poverty. But for this strange kind of secrecy -maintained by them relative to their engagement, which -in fact concealed nothing at all, she could not account -and it was so wholly contradictory to their general -opinions and practice, that a doubt sometimes entered -her mind of their being really engaged, and this doubt -was enough to prevent her making any inquiry of Marianne. -Nothing could be more expressive of attachment -to them all, than Willoughby's behaviour. To Marianne -it had all the distinguishing tenderness which a lover's -heart could give, and to the rest of the family it was the -affectionate attention of a son and a brother. The cottage -seemed to be considered and loved by him as his home -many more of his hours were spent there than at Allenham -and if no general engagement collected them at the park, -the exercise which called him out in the morning was -almost certain of ending there, where the rest of the day -was spent by himself at the side of Marianne, and by his -favourite pointer at her feet. -One evening in particular, about a week after -Colonel Brandon left the country, his heart seemed -more than usually open to every feeling of attachment -to the objects around him and on Mrs. Dashwood's -happening to mention her design of improving the cottage -in the spring, he warmly opposed every alteration -of a place which affection had established as perfect with him. -"What" he exclaimed"Improve this dear cottage -No. THAT I will never consent to. Not a stone must -be added to its walls, not an inch to its size, -if my feelings are regarded." -"Do not be alarmed," said Miss Dashwood, -"nothing of the kind will be done for my mother -will never have money enough to attempt it." -"I am heartily glad of it," he cried. "May she -always be poor, if she can employ her riches no better." -"Thank you, Willoughby. But you may be assured that I -would not sacrifice one sentiment of local attachment -of yours, or of any one whom I loved, for all the improvements -in the world. Depend upon it that whatever unemployed -sum may remain, when I make up my accounts in the spring, -I would even rather lay it uselessly by than dispose -of it in a manner so painful to you. But are you really -so attached to this place as to see no defect in it?" -"I am," said he. "To me it is faultless. Nay, more, -I consider it as the only form of building in which happiness -is attainable, and were I rich enough I would instantly pull -Combe down, and build it up again in the exact plan of this -cottage." -"With dark narrow stairs and a kitchen that smokes, -I suppose," said Elinor. -"Yes," cried he in the same eager tone, "with all -and every thing belonging to itin no one convenience -or INconvenience about it, should the least variation -be perceptible. Then, and then only, under such a roof, I -might perhaps be as happy at Combe as I have been at Barton." -"I flatter myself," replied Elinor, "that even under -the disadvantage of better rooms and a broader staircase, -you will hereafter find your own house as faultless as you -now do this." -"There certainly are circumstances," said Willoughby, -"which might greatly endear it to me but this place will -always have one claim of my affection, which no other can -possibly share." -Mrs. Dashwood looked with pleasure at Marianne, -whose fine eyes were fixed so expressively on Willoughby, -as plainly denoted how well she understood him. -"How often did I wish," added he, "when I was at -Allenham this time twelvemonth, that Barton cottage were -inhabited I never passed within view of it without admiring -its situation, and grieving that no one should live in it. -How little did I then think that the very first news -I should hear from Mrs. Smith, when I next came into -the country, would be that Barton cottage was taken and I -felt an immediate satisfaction and interest in the event, -which nothing but a kind of prescience of what happiness I -should experience from it, can account for. Must it not have -been so, Marianne?" speaking to her in a lowered voice. -Then continuing his former tone, he said, "And yet this -house you would spoil, Mrs. Dashwood? You would rob it -of its simplicity by imaginary improvement and this dear -parlour in which our acquaintance first began, and in which -so many happy hours have been since spent by us together, -you would degrade to the condition of a common entrance, -and every body would be eager to pass through the room -which has hitherto contained within itself more real -accommodation and comfort than any other apartment of -the handsomest dimensions in the world could possibly afford." -Mrs. Dashwood again assured him that no alteration -of the kind should be attempted. -"You are a good woman," he warmly replied. -"Your promise makes me easy. Extend it a little farther, -and it will make me happy. Tell me that not only your -house will remain the same, but that I shall ever find -you and yours as unchanged as your dwelling and that you -will always consider me with the kindness which has made -everything belonging to you so dear to me." -The promise was readily given, and Willoughby's -behaviour during the whole of the evening declared -at once his affection and happiness. -"Shall we see you tomorrow to dinner?" said Mrs. Dashwood, -when he was leaving them. "I do not ask you to come in -the morning, for we must walk to the park, to call on Lady -Middleton." -He engaged to be with them by four o'clock. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Dashwood's visit to Lady Middleton took place -the next day, and two of her daughters went with her -but Marianne excused herself from being of the party, -under some trifling pretext of employment and her mother, -who concluded that a promise had been made by Willoughby -the night before of calling on her while they were absent, -was perfectly satisfied with her remaining at home. -On their return from the park they found Willoughby's -curricle and servant in waiting at the cottage, -and Mrs. Dashwood was convinced that her conjecture -had been just. So far it was all as she had foreseen -but on entering the house she beheld what no foresight -had taught her to expect. They were no sooner in the -passage than Marianne came hastily out of the parlour -apparently in violent affliction, with her handkerchief -at her eyes and without noticing them ran up stairs. -Surprised and alarmed they proceeded directly into the room -she had just quitted, where they found only Willoughby, -who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his back -towards them. He turned round on their coming in, -and his countenance shewed that he strongly partook -of the emotion which overpowered Marianne. -"Is anything the matter with her?" cried Mrs. Dashwood -as she entered"is she ill?" -"I hope not," he replied, trying to look cheerful -and with a forced smile presently added, "It is I who may -rather expect to be illfor I am now suffering under a -very heavy disappointment" -"Disappointment?" -"Yes, for I am unable to keep my engagement with you. -Mrs. Smith has this morning exercised the privilege -of riches upon a poor dependent cousin, by sending me on -business to London. I have just received my dispatches, -and taken my farewell of Allenham and by way of exhilaration -I am now come to take my farewell of you." -"To Londonand are you going this morning?" -"Almost this moment." -"This is very unfortunate. But Mrs. Smith must -be obligedand her business will not detain you from -us long I hope." -He coloured as he replied, "You are very kind, but I -have no idea of returning into Devonshire immediately. -My visits to Mrs. Smith are never repeated within -the twelvemonth." -"And is Mrs. Smith your only friend? Is Allenham the only -house in the neighbourhood to which you will be welcome? -For shame, Willoughby, can you wait for an invitation here?" -His colour increased and with his eyes fixed -on the ground he only replied, "You are too good." -Mrs. Dashwood looked at Elinor with surprise. -Elinor felt equal amazement. For a few moments every one -was silent. Mrs. Dashwood first spoke. -"I have only to add, my dear Willoughby, that at -Barton cottage you will always be welcome for I will not -press you to return here immediately, because you only -can judge how far THAT might be pleasing to Mrs. Smith -and on this head I shall be no more disposed to question -your judgment than to doubt your inclination." -"My engagements at present," replied Willoughby, -confusedly, "are of such a naturethatI dare not flatter -myself" -He stopt. Mrs. Dashwood was too much astonished -to speak, and another pause succeeded. This was broken -by Willoughby, who said with a faint smile, "It is folly -to linger in this manner. I will not torment myself -any longer by remaining among friends whose society -it is impossible for me now to enjoy." -He then hastily took leave of them all and left -the room. They saw him step into his carriage, -and in a minute it was out of sight. -Mrs. Dashwood felt too much for speech, and instantly -quitted the parlour to give way in solitude to the concern -and alarm which this sudden departure occasioned. -Elinor's uneasiness was at least equal to her mother's. -She thought of what had just passed with anxiety and distrust. -Willoughby's behaviour in taking leave of them, his -embarrassment, -and affectation of cheerfulness, and, above all, his -unwillingness -to accept her mother's invitation, a backwardness so unlike a -lover, -so unlike himself, greatly disturbed her. One moment she feared -that no serious design had ever been formed on his side and the -next that some unfortunate quarrel had taken place between him -and -her sisterthe distress in which Marianne had quitted the room -was such as a serious quarrel could most reasonably account for, -though when she considered what Marianne's love for him was, -a quarrel seemed almost impossible. -But whatever might be the particulars of their separation, -her sister's affliction was indubitable and she thought -with the tenderest compassion of that violent sorrow -which Marianne was in all probability not merely giving -way to as a relief, but feeding and encouraging as a duty. -In about half an hour her mother returned, and though -her eyes were red, her countenance was not uncheerful. -"Our dear Willoughby is now some miles from Barton, Elinor," -said she, as she sat down to work, "and with how heavy a heart -does he travel?" -"It is all very strange. So suddenly to be gone It -seems but the work of a moment. And last night he was -with us so happy, so cheerful, so affectionate? And now, -after only ten minutes noticeGone too without intending -to returnSomething more than what he owned to us must -have happened. He did not speak, he did not behave -like himself. YOU must have seen the difference as well as I. -What can it be? Can they have quarrelled? Why else should he -have shewn such unwillingness to accept your invitation here?" -"It was not inclination that he wanted, Elinor I could -plainly see THAT. He had not the power of accepting it. -I have thought it all over I assure you, and I can -perfectly account for every thing that at first seemed -strange to me as well as to you." -"Can you, indeed" -"Yes. I have explained it to myself in the most -satisfactory waybut you, Elinor, who love to doubt -where you canit will not satisfy YOU, I know but you -shall not talk ME out of my trust in it. I am persuaded -that Mrs. Smith suspects his regard for Marianne, -disapproves of it, perhaps because she has other views -for him, and on that account is eager to get him away -and that the business which she sends him off to transact -is invented as an excuse to dismiss him. This is what I -believe to have happened. He is, moreover, aware that she -DOES disapprove the connection, he dares not therefore -at present confess to her his engagement with Marianne, -and he feels himself obliged, from his dependent situation, -to give into her schemes, and absent himself from -Devonshire for a while. You will tell me, I know, -that this may or may NOT have happened but I will listen -to no cavil, unless you can point out any other method -of understanding the affair as satisfactory at this. -And now, Elinor, what have you to say?" -"Nothing, for you have anticipated my answer." -"Then you would have told me, that it might or might not -have happened. Oh, Elinor, how incomprehensible are your -feelings You had rather take evil upon credit than good. -You had rather look out for misery for Marianne, and guilt -for poor Willoughby, than an apology for the latter. -You are resolved to think him blameable, because he took -leave of us with less affection than his usual behaviour -has shewn. And is no allowance to be made for inadvertence, -or for spirits depressed by recent disappointment? Are -no probabilities to be accepted, merely because they -are not certainties? Is nothing due to the man whom we -have all such reason to love, and no reason in the world -to think ill of? To the possibility of motives unanswerable -in themselves, though unavoidably secret for a while? And, -after all, what is it you suspect him of?" -"I can hardly tell myself. But suspicion of -something unpleasant is the inevitable consequence -of such an alteration as we just witnessed in him. -There is great truth, however, in what you have now urged -of the allowances which ought to be made for him, and it -is my wish to be candid in my judgment of every body. -Willoughby may undoubtedly have very sufficient -reasons for his conduct, and I will hope that he has. -But it would have been more like Willoughby to acknowledge -them at once. Secrecy may be advisable but still I -cannot help wondering at its being practiced by him." -"Do not blame him, however, for departing from -his character, where the deviation is necessary. -But you really do admit the justice of what I have said -in his defence?I am happyand he is acquitted." -"Not entirely. It may be proper to conceal their -engagement if they ARE engaged from Mrs. Smith -and if that is the case, it must be highly expedient -for Willoughby to be but little in Devonshire at present. -But this is no excuse for their concealing it from us." -"Concealing it from us my dear child, do you accuse -Willoughby and Marianne of concealment? This is strange -indeed, when your eyes have been reproaching them every day -for incautiousness." -"I want no proof of their affection," said Elinor -"but of their engagement I do." -"I am perfectly satisfied of both." -"Yet not a syllable has been said to you on the -subject, by either of them." -"I have not wanted syllables where actions have -spoken so plainly. Has not his behaviour to Marianne -and to all of us, for at least the last fortnight, -declared that he loved and considered her as his future wife, -and that he felt for us the attachment of the nearest -relation? Have we not perfectly understood each other? -Has not my consent been daily asked by his looks, his manner, -his attentive and affectionate respect? My Elinor, -is it possible to doubt their engagement? How could -such a thought occur to you? How is it to be supposed -that Willoughby, persuaded as he must be of your -sister's love, should leave her, and leave her perhaps -for months, without telling her of his affectionthat -they should part without a mutual exchange of confidence?" -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that every circumstance -except ONE is in favour of their engagement -but that ONE is the total silence of both on the subject, -and with me it almost outweighs every other." -"How strange this is You must think wretchedly indeed -of Willoughby, if, after all that has openly passed between them, -you can doubt the nature of the terms on which they are together. -Has he been acting a part in his behaviour to your sister -all this time? Do you suppose him really indifferent to her?" -"No, I cannot think that. He must and does love her -I am sure." -"But with a strange kind of tenderness, if he can -leave her with such indifference, such carelessness -of the future, as you attribute to him." -"You must remember, my dear mother, that I have never -considered this matter as certain. I have had my doubts, -I confess but they are fainter than they were, and they -may soon be entirely done away. If we find they correspond, -every fear of mine will be removed." -"A mighty concession indeed If you were to see -them at the altar, you would suppose they were going to -be married. Ungracious girl But I require no such proof. -Nothing in my opinion has ever passed to justify doubt -no secrecy has been attempted all has been uniformly open -and unreserved. You cannot doubt your sister's wishes. -It must be Willoughby therefore whom you suspect. But why? -Is he not a man of honour and feeling? Has there been any -inconsistency on his side to create alarm? can he be deceitful?" -"I hope not, I believe not," cried Elinor. -"I love Willoughby, sincerely love him and suspicion of his -integrity cannot be more painful to yourself than to me. -It has been involuntary, and I will not encourage it. -I was startled, I confess, by the alteration in his -manners this morninghe did not speak like himself, -and did not return your kindness with any cordiality. -But all this may be explained by such a situation of his -affairs as you have supposed. He had just parted from -my sister, had seen her leave him in the greatest affliction -and if he felt obliged, from a fear of offending Mrs. Smith, -to resist the temptation of returning here soon, and yet -aware that by declining your invitation, by saying -that he was going away for some time, he should seem -to act an ungenerous, a suspicious part by our family, -he might well be embarrassed and disturbed. In such a case, -a plain and open avowal of his difficulties would have been -more to his honour I think, as well as more consistent -with his general characterbut I will not raise objections -against any one's conduct on so illiberal a foundation, -as a difference in judgment from myself, or a deviation from -what I may think right and consistent." -"You speak very properly. Willoughby certainly does -not deserve to be suspected. Though WE have not known -him long, he is no stranger in this part of the world -and who has ever spoken to his disadvantage? Had he been -in a situation to act independently and marry immediately, -it might have been odd that he should leave us without -acknowledging everything to me at once but this is not the case. -It is an engagement in some respects not prosperously begun, -for their marriage must be at a very uncertain distance -and even secrecy, as far as it can be observed, may now -be very advisable." -They were interrupted by the entrance of Margaret -and Elinor was then at liberty to think over the representations -of her mother, to acknowledge the probability of many, -and hope for the justice of all. -They saw nothing of Marianne till dinner time, -when she entered the room and took her place at the table -without saying a word. Her eyes were red and swollen -and it seemed as if her tears were even then restrained -with difficulty. She avoided the looks of them all, -could neither eat nor speak, and after some time, on her -mother's silently pressing her hand with tender compassion, -her small degree of fortitude was quite overcome, she burst -into tears and left the room. -This violent oppression of spirits continued the -whole evening. She was without any power, because she -was without any desire of command over herself. -The slightest mention of anything relative to Willoughby -overpowered her in an instant and though her family -were most anxiously attentive to her comfort, it was -impossible for them, if they spoke at all, to keep clear -of every subject which her feelings connected with him. -CHAPTER -Marianne would have thought herself very inexcusable -had she been able to sleep at all the first night -after parting from Willoughby. She would have been -ashamed to look her family in the face the next morning, -had she not risen from her bed in more need of repose -than when she lay down in it. But the feelings which -made such composure a disgrace, left her in no danger -of incurring it. She was awake the whole night, and she -wept the greatest part of it. She got up with a headache, -was unable to talk, and unwilling to take any nourishment -giving pain every moment to her mother and sisters, -and forbidding all attempt at consolation from either. -Her sensibility was potent enough -When breakfast was over she walked out by herself, -and wandered about the village of Allenham, indulging the -recollection of past enjoyment and crying over the present -reverse for the chief of the morning. -The evening passed off in the equal indulgence of feeling. -She played over every favourite song that she had been used -to play to Willoughby, every air in which their voices -had been oftenest joined, and sat at the instrument gazing -on every line of music that he had written out for her, -till her heart was so heavy that no farther sadness -could be gained and this nourishment of grief was every -day applied. She spent whole hours at the pianoforte -alternately singing and crying her voice often totally -suspended by her tears. In books too, as well as in music, -she courted the misery which a contrast between the past -and present was certain of giving. She read nothing -but what they had been used to read together. -Such violence of affliction indeed could not be supported -for ever it sunk within a few days into a calmer melancholy -but these employments, to which she daily recurred, -her solitary walks and silent meditations, still produced -occasional effusions of sorrow as lively as ever. -No letter from Willoughby came and none seemed expected -by Marianne. Her mother was surprised, and Elinor again -became uneasy. But Mrs. Dashwood could find explanations -whenever she wanted them, which at least satisfied herself. -"Remember, Elinor," said she, "how very often Sir John -fetches our letters himself from the post, and carries them -to it. We have already agreed that secrecy may be necessary, -and we must acknowledge that it could not be maintained if -their correspondence were to pass through Sir John's hands." -Elinor could not deny the truth of this, and she tried -to find in it a motive sufficient for their silence. -But there was one method so direct, so simple, and in -her opinion so eligible of knowing the real state -of the affair, and of instantly removing all mystery, -that she could not help suggesting it to her mother. -"Why do you not ask Marianne at once," said she, -"whether she is or she is not engaged to Willoughby? From you, -her mother, and so kind, so indulgent a mother, the question -could not give offence. It would be the natural result -of your affection for her. She used to be all unreserve, -and to you more especially." -"I would not ask such a question for the world. -Supposing it possible that they are not engaged, -what distress would not such an enquiry inflict At any -rate it would be most ungenerous. I should never deserve -her confidence again, after forcing from her a confession -of what is meant at present to be unacknowledged to any one. -I know Marianne's heart I know that she dearly loves me, -and that I shall not be the last to whom the affair is made -known, -when circumstances make the revealment of it eligible. -I would not attempt to force the confidence of any one -of a child much less because a sense of duty would prevent -the denial which her wishes might direct." -Elinor thought this generosity overstrained, -considering her sister's youth, and urged the matter farther, -but in vain common sense, common care, common prudence, -were all sunk in Mrs. Dashwood's romantic delicacy. -It was several days before Willoughby's name -was mentioned before Marianne by any of her family -Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, indeed, were not so nice -their witticisms added pain to many a painful hour -but one evening, Mrs. Dashwood, accidentally taking up a -volume of Shakespeare, exclaimed, -"We have never finished Hamlet, Marianne our dear -Willoughby went away before we could get through it. -We will put it by, that when he comes again...But it may -be months, perhaps, before THAT happens." -"Months" cried Marianne, with strong surprise. -"Nonor many weeks." -Mrs. Dashwood was sorry for what she had said -but it gave Elinor pleasure, as it produced a reply -from Marianne so expressive of confidence in Willoughby -and knowledge of his intentions. -One morning, about a week after his leaving the country, -Marianne was prevailed on to join her sisters in their -usual walk, instead of wandering away by herself. -Hitherto she had carefully avoided every companion in -her rambles. If her sisters intended to walk on the downs, -she directly stole away towards the lanes if they talked -of the valley, she was as speedy in climbing the hills, -and could never be found when the others set off. -But at length she was secured by the exertions of Elinor, -who greatly disapproved such continual seclusion. They walked -along the road through the valley, and chiefly in silence, -for Marianne's MIND could not be controlled, and Elinor, -satisfied with gaining one point, would not then attempt more. -Beyond the entrance of the valley, where the country, -though still rich, was less wild and more open, a long -stretch of the road which they had travelled on first coming -to Barton, lay before them and on reaching that point, -they stopped to look around them, and examine a prospect -which formed the distance of their view from the cottage, -from a spot which they had never happened to reach in any -of their walks before. -Amongst the objects in the scene, they soon discovered -an animated one it was a man on horseback riding towards them. -In a few minutes they could distinguish him to be a gentleman -and in a moment afterwards Marianne rapturously exclaimed, -"It is he it is indeedI know it is"and was -hastening to meet him, when Elinor cried out, -"Indeed, Marianne, I think you are mistaken. It is -not Willoughby. The person is not tall enough for him, -and has not his air." -"He has, he has," cried Marianne, "I am sure he has. -His air, his coat, his horse. I knew how soon he would come." -She walked eagerly on as she spoke and Elinor, -to screen Marianne from particularity, as she felt almost -certain of its not being Willoughby, quickened her -pace and kept up with her. They were soon within -thirty yards of the gentleman. Marianne looked again -her heart sunk within her and abruptly turning round, -she was hurrying back, when the voices of both her sisters -were raised to detain her a third, almost as well known -as Willoughby's, joined them in begging her to stop, -and she turned round with surprise to see and welcome -Edward Ferrars. -He was the only person in the world who could -at that moment be forgiven for not being Willoughby -the only one who could have gained a smile from her -but she dispersed her tears to smile on HIM, and in her -sister's happiness forgot for a time her own disappointment. -He dismounted, and giving his horse to his servant, -walked back with them to Barton, whither he was purposely -coming to visit them. -He was welcomed by them all with great cordiality, -but especially by Marianne, who showed more warmth of -regard in her reception of him than even Elinor herself. -To Marianne, indeed, the meeting between Edward and her sister -was but a continuation of that unaccountable coldness which she -had often observed at Norland in their mutual behaviour. -On Edward's side, more particularly, there was a deficiency -of all that a lover ought to look and say on such an occasion. -He was confused, seemed scarcely sensible of pleasure -in seeing them, looked neither rapturous nor gay, -said little but what was forced from him by questions, -and distinguished Elinor by no mark of affection. -Marianne saw and listened with increasing surprise. -She began almost to feel a dislike of Edward and it ended, -as every feeling must end with her, by carrying back her -thoughts to Willoughby, whose manners formed a contrast -sufficiently striking to those of his brother elect. -After a short silence which succeeded the first -surprise and enquiries of meeting, Marianne asked -Edward if he came directly from London. No, he had -been in Devonshire a fortnight. -"A fortnight" she repeated, surprised at his being -so long in the same county with Elinor without seeing -her before. -He looked rather distressed as he added, that he -had been staying with some friends near Plymouth. -"Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor. -"I was at Norland about a month ago." -"And how does dear, dear Norland look?" cried Marianne. -"Dear, dear Norland," said Elinor, "probably looks -much as it always does at this time of the year. -The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves." -"Oh," cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensation -have I formerly seen them fall How have I delighted, -as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me -by the wind What feelings have they, the season, the air -altogether inspired Now there is no one to regard them. -They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, -and driven as much as possible from the sight." -"It is not every one," said Elinor, "who has your -passion for dead leaves." -"No my feelings are not often shared, not often -understood. But SOMETIMES they are."As she said this, -she sunk into a reverie for a few momentsbut rousing -herself again, "Now, Edward," said she, calling his attention -to the prospect, "here is Barton valley. Look up to it, -and be tranquil if you can. Look at those hills -Did you ever see their equals? To the left is Barton park, -amongst those woods and plantations. You may see the end -of the house. And there, beneath that farthest hill, -which rises with such grandeur, is our cottage." -"It is a beautiful country," he replied "but these -bottoms must be dirty in winter." -"How can you think of dirt, with such objects before you?" -"Because," replied he, smiling, "among the rest of the -objects before me, I see a very dirty lane." -"How strange" said Marianne to herself as she walked on. -"Have you an agreeable neighbourhood here? Are the -Middletons pleasant people?" -"No, not all," answered Marianne "we could not -be more unfortunately situated." -"Marianne," cried her sister, "how can you say so? How can -you be so unjust? They are a very respectable family, Mr. -Ferrars -and towards us have behaved in the friendliest manner. Have you -forgot, Marianne, how many pleasant days we have owed to them?" -"No," said Marianne, in a low voice, "nor how many -painful moments." -Elinor took no notice of this and directing -her attention to their visitor, endeavoured to support -something like discourse with him, by talking of their -present residence, its conveniences, c. extorting from him -occasional questions and remarks. His coldness and reserve -mortified her severely she was vexed and half angry -but resolving to regulate her behaviour to him by the past -rather than the present, she avoided every appearance -of resentment or displeasure, and treated him as she -thought he ought to be treated from the family connection. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Dashwood was surprised only for a moment at -seeing him for his coming to Barton was, in her opinion, -of all things the most natural. Her joy and expression -of regard long outlived her wonder. He received the kindest -welcome from her and shyness, coldness, reserve could not -stand against such a reception. They had begun to fail him -before he entered the house, and they were quite overcome -by the captivating manners of Mrs. Dashwood. Indeed a man -could not very well be in love with either of her daughters, -without extending the passion to her and Elinor had the -satisfaction of seeing him soon become more like himself. -His affections seemed to reanimate towards them all, -and his interest in their welfare again became perceptible. -He was not in spirits, however he praised their house, -admired its prospect, was attentive, and kind but still -he was not in spirits. The whole family perceived it, -and Mrs. Dashwood, attributing it to some want of liberality -in his mother, sat down to table indignant against all -selfish parents. -"What are Mrs. Ferrars's views for you at present, Edward?" -said she, when dinner was over and they had drawn round -the fire "are you still to be a great orator in spite of -yourself?" -"No. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have -no more talents than inclination for a public life" -"But how is your fame to be established? for famous you -must be to satisfy all your family and with no inclination -for expense, no affection for strangers, no profession, -and no assurance, you may find it a difficult matter." -"I shall not attempt it. I have no wish to be -distinguished and have every reason to hope I never shall. -Thank Heaven I cannot be forced into genius and eloquence." -"You have no ambition, I well know. Your wishes -are all moderate." -"As moderate as those of the rest of the world, -I believe. I wish as well as every body else to be -perfectly happy but, like every body else it must be -in my own way. Greatness will not make me so." -"Strange that it would" cried Marianne. "What have -wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?" -"Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth -has much to do with it." -"Elinor, for shame" said Marianne, "money can only -give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. -Beyond a competence, it can afford no real satisfaction, -as far as mere self is concerned." -"Perhaps," said Elinor, smiling, "we may come -to the same point. YOUR competence and MY wealth -are very much alike, I dare say and without them, -as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every -kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas -are only more noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?" -"About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year -not more than THAT." -Elinor laughed. "TWO thousand a year ONE is my -wealth I guessed how it would end." -"And yet two thousand ayear is a very moderate income," -said Marianne. "A family cannot well be maintained on -a smaller. I am sure I am not extravagant in my demands. -A proper establishment of servants, a carriage, perhaps two, -and hunters, cannot be supported on less." -Elinor smiled again, to hear her sister describing -so accurately their future expenses at Combe Magna. -"Hunters" repeated Edward"but why must you have -hunters? Every body does not hunt." -Marianne coloured as she replied, "But most people do." -"I wish," said Margaret, striking out a novel thought, -"that somebody would give us all a large fortune apiece" -"Oh that they would" cried Marianne, her eyes -sparkling with animation, and her cheeks glowing -with the delight of such imaginary happiness. -"We are all unanimous in that wish, I suppose," -said Elinor, "in spite of the insufficiency of wealth." -"Oh dear" cried Margaret, "how happy I should be -I wonder what I should do with it" -Marianne looked as if she had no doubt on that point. -"I should be puzzled to spend so large a fortune myself," -said Mrs. Dashwood, "if my children were all to be rich -my help." -"You must begin your improvements on this house," -observed Elinor, "and your difficulties will soon vanish." -"What magnificent orders would travel from this family -to London," said Edward, "in such an event What a happy -day for booksellers, musicsellers, and printshops You, -Miss Dashwood, would give a general commission for every -new print of merit to be sent youand as for Marianne, -I know her greatness of soul, there would not be music enough -in London to content her. And booksThomson, Cowper, -Scottshe would buy them all over and over again she -would buy up every copy, I believe, to prevent their -falling into unworthy hands and she would have every -book that tells her how to admire an old twisted tree. -Should not you, Marianne? Forgive me, if I am very saucy. -But I was willing to shew you that I had not forgot our -old disputes." -"I love to be reminded of the past, Edwardwhether it -be melancholy or gay, I love to recall itand you -will never offend me by talking of former times. -You are very right in supposing how my money would be -spentsome of it, at leastmy loose cash would certainly -be employed in improving my collection of music and books." -"And the bulk of your fortune would be laid out -in annuities on the authors or their heirs." -"No, Edward, I should have something else to do -with it." -"Perhaps, then, you would bestow it as a reward on that -person who wrote the ablest defence of your favourite maxim, -that no one can ever be in love more than once in their -lifeyour opinion on that point is unchanged, I presume?" -"Undoubtedly. At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. -It is not likely that I should now see or hear any thing to -change them." -"Marianne is as steadfast as ever, you see," said Elinor, -"she is not at all altered." -"She is only grown a little more grave than she was." -"Nay, Edward," said Marianne, "you need not reproach me. -You are not very gay yourself." -"Why should you think so" replied he, with a sigh. -"But gaiety never was a part of MY character." -"Nor do I think it a part of Marianne's," said Elinor -"I should hardly call her a lively girlshe is very earnest, -very eager in all she doessometimes talks a great deal -and always with animationbut she is not often really merry." -"I believe you are right," he replied, "and yet I -have always set her down as a lively girl." -"I have frequently detected myself in such kind of mistakes," -said Elinor, "in a total misapprehension of character in some -point or other fancying people so much more gay or grave, -or ingenious or stupid than they really are, and I can -hardly tell why or in what the deception originated. -Sometimes one is guided by what they say of themselves, -and very frequently by what other people say of them, -without giving oneself time to deliberate and judge." -"But I thought it was right, Elinor," said Marianne, -"to be guided wholly by the opinion of other people. -I thought our judgments were given us merely to be subservient -to those of neighbours. This has always been your doctrine, -I am sure." -"No, Marianne, never. My doctrine has never aimed -at the subjection of the understanding. All I have -ever attempted to influence has been the behaviour. -You must not confound my meaning. I am guilty, I confess, -of having often wished you to treat our acquaintance -in general with greater attention but when have I advised -you to adopt their sentiments or to conform to their -judgment in serious matters?" -"You have not been able to bring your sister over to your -plan of general civility," said Edward to Elinor, "Do you gain -no ground?" -"Quite the contrary," replied Elinor, -looking expressively at Marianne. -"My judgment," he returned, "is all on your side -of the question but I am afraid my practice is much -more on your sister's. I never wish to offend, but I -am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, -when I am only kept back by my natural awkwardness. -I have frequently thought that I must have been intended -by nature to be fond of low company, I am so little at -my ease among strangers of gentility" -"Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention -of hers," said Elinor. -"She knows her own worth too well for false shame," -replied Edward. "Shyness is only the effect of a sense -of inferiority in some way or other. If I could persuade -myself that my manners were perfectly easy and graceful, -I should not be shy." -"But you would still be reserved," said Marianne, -"and that is worse." -Edward started"Reserved Am I reserved, Marianne?" -"Yes, very." -"I do not understand you," replied he, colouring. -"Reservedhow, in what manner? What am I to tell you? -What can you suppose?" -Elinor looked surprised at his emotion but trying -to laugh off the subject, she said to him, "Do not you -know my sister well enough to understand what she means? -Do not you know she calls every one reserved who does not -talk as fast, and admire what she admires as rapturously -as herself?" -Edward made no answer. His gravity and thoughtfulness -returned on him in their fullest extentand he sat -for some time silent and dull. -CHAPTER -Elinor saw, with great uneasiness the low spirits -of her friend. His visit afforded her but a very -partial satisfaction, while his own enjoyment in it -appeared so imperfect. It was evident that he was unhappy -she wished it were equally evident that he still -distinguished her by the same affection which once -she had felt no doubt of inspiring but hitherto the -continuance of his preference seemed very uncertain -and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted -one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding -one. -He joined her and Marianne in the breakfastroom -the next morning before the others were down and Marianne, -who was always eager to promote their happiness as far -as she could, soon left them to themselves. But before she -was half way upstairs she heard the parlour door open, and, -turning round, was astonished to see Edward himself come out. -"I am going into the village to see my horses," -said he, "as you are not yet ready for breakfast I shall -be back again presently." -Edward returned to them with fresh admiration -of the surrounding country in his walk to the village, -he had seen many parts of the valley to advantage -and the village itself, in a much higher situation than -the cottage, afforded a general view of the whole, which had -exceedingly pleased him. This was a subject which ensured -Marianne's attention, and she was beginning to describe -her own admiration of these scenes, and to question him more -minutely on the objects that had particularly struck him, -when Edward interrupted her by saying, "You must not -enquire too far, Marianneremember I have no knowledge -in the picturesque, and I shall offend you by my ignorance -and want of taste if we come to particulars. I shall call -hills steep, which ought to be bold surfaces strange -and uncouth, which ought to be irregular and rugged -and distant objects out of sight, which ought only to be -indistinct through the soft medium of a hazy atmosphere. -You must be satisfied with such admiration as I can -honestly give. I call it a very fine countrythe -hills are steep, the woods seem full of fine timber, -and the valley looks comfortable and snugwith rich -meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here -and there. It exactly answers my idea of a fine country, -because it unites beauty with utilityand I dare say it -is a picturesque one too, because you admire it I can -easily believe it to be full of rocks and promontories, -grey moss and brush wood, but these are all lost on me. -I know nothing of the picturesque." -"I am afraid it is but too true," said Marianne -"but why should you boast of it?" -"I suspect," said Elinor, "that to avoid one kind -of affectation, Edward here falls into another. Because he -believes many people pretend to more admiration of the beauties -of nature than they really feel, and is disgusted with -such pretensions, he affects greater indifference and less -discrimination in viewing them himself than he possesses. -He is fastidious and will have an affectation of his own." -"It is very true," said Marianne, "that admiration -of landscape scenery is become a mere jargon. -Every body pretends to feel and tries to describe with -the taste and elegance of him who first defined what -picturesque beauty was. I detest jargon of every kind, -and sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, -because I could find no language to describe them -in but what was worn and hackneyed out of all sense and meaning." -"I am convinced," said Edward, "that you really feel -all the delight in a fine prospect which you profess -to feel. But, in return, your sister must allow me -to feel no more than I profess. I like a fine prospect, -but not on picturesque principles. I do not like crooked, -twisted, blasted trees. I admire them much more if they -are tall, straight, and flourishing. I do not like ruined, -tattered cottages. I am not fond of nettles or thistles, -or heath blossoms. I have more pleasure in a snug -farmhouse than a watchtowerand a troop of tidy, -happy villages please me better than the finest banditti -in the world." -Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, -with compassion at her sister. Elinor only laughed. -The subject was continued no farther and Marianne -remained thoughtfully silent, till a new object suddenly -engaged her attention. She was sitting by Edward, and -in taking his tea from Mrs. Dashwood, his hand passed -so directly before her, as to make a ring, with a plait -of hair in the centre, very conspicuous on one of his fingers. -"I never saw you wear a ring before, Edward," she cried. -"Is that Fanny's hair? I remember her promising to give -you some. But I should have thought her hair had been darker." -Marianne spoke inconsiderately what she really felt -but when she saw how much she had pained Edward, her own -vexation at her want of thought could not be surpassed -by his. He coloured very deeply, and giving a momentary -glance at Elinor, replied, "Yes it is my sister's hair. -The setting always casts a different shade on it, -you know." -Elinor had met his eye, and looked conscious likewise. -That the hair was her own, she instantaneously felt as -well satisfied as Marianne the only difference in their -conclusions was, that what Marianne considered as a free -gift from her sister, Elinor was conscious must have been -procured by some theft or contrivance unknown to herself. -She was not in a humour, however, to regard it as an affront, -and affecting to take no notice of what passed, -by instantly talking of something else, she internally -resolved henceforward to catch every opportunity of eyeing -the hair and of satisfying herself, beyond all doubt, -that it was exactly the shade of her own. -Edward's embarrassment lasted some time, and it -ended in an absence of mind still more settled. -He was particularly grave the whole morning. -Marianne severely censured herself for what she had said -but her own forgiveness might have been more speedy, -had she known how little offence it had given her sister. -Before the middle of the day, they were visited by Sir -John and Mrs. Jennings, who, having heard of the arrival -of a gentleman at the cottage, came to take a survey -of the guest. With the assistance of his motherinlaw, -Sir John was not long in discovering that the name of -Ferrars began with an F. and this prepared a future mine -of raillery against the devoted Elinor, which nothing but -the newness of their acquaintance with Edward could have -prevented from being immediately sprung. But, as it was, -she only learned, from some very significant looks, how far -their penetration, founded on Margaret's instructions, extended. -Sir John never came to the Dashwoods without either -inviting them to dine at the park the next day, or to drink -tea with them that evening. On the present occasion, -for the better entertainment of their visitor, towards -whose amusement he felt himself bound to contribute, -he wished to engage them for both. -"You MUST drink tea with us to night," said he, -"for we shall be quite aloneand tomorrow you must -absolutely dine with us, for we shall be a large party." -Mrs. Jennings enforced the necessity. "And who knows -but you may raise a dance," said she. "And that will -tempt YOU, Miss Marianne." -"A dance" cried Marianne. "Impossible Who is to dance?" -"Who why yourselves, and the Careys, and Whitakers -to be sure.What you thought nobody could dance -because a certain person that shall be nameless is gone" -"I wish with all my soul," cried Sir John, -"that Willoughby were among us again." -This, and Marianne's blushing, gave new suspicions -to Edward. "And who is Willoughby?" said he, in a low voice, -to Miss Dashwood, by whom he was sitting. -She gave him a brief reply. Marianne's countenance -was more communicative. Edward saw enough to comprehend, -not only the meaning of others, but such of Marianne's -expressions as had puzzled him before and when their -visitors left them, he went immediately round her, and said, -in a whisper, "I have been guessing. Shall I tell you -my guess?" -"What do you mean?" -"Shall I tell you." -"Certainly." -"Well then I guess that Mr. Willoughby hunts." -Marianne was surprised and confused, yet she could -not help smiling at the quiet archness of his manner, -and after a moment's silence, said, -"Oh, Edward How can you?But the time will come -I hope...I am sure you will like him." -"I do not doubt it," replied he, rather astonished -at her earnestness and warmth for had he not imagined it -to be a joke for the good of her acquaintance in general, -founded only on a something or a nothing between Mr. Willoughby -and herself, he would not have ventured to mention it. -CHAPTER -Edward remained a week at the cottage he was earnestly -pressed by Mrs. Dashwood to stay longer but, as if he -were bent only on selfmortification, he seemed resolved -to be gone when his enjoyment among his friends was at -the height. His spirits, during the last two or three days, -though still very unequal, were greatly improvedhe grew -more and more partial to the house and environsnever -spoke of going away without a sighdeclared his time -to be wholly disengagedeven doubted to what place he -should go when he left thembut still, go he must. -Never had any week passed so quicklyhe could hardly -believe it to be gone. He said so repeatedly other things -he said too, which marked the turn of his feelings and gave -the lie to his actions. He had no pleasure at Norland -he detested being in town but either to Norland or London, -he must go. He valued their kindness beyond any thing, -and his greatest happiness was in being with them. -Yet, he must leave them at the end of a week, in spite -of their wishes and his own, and without any restraint -on his time. -Elinor placed all that was astonishing in this -way of acting to his mother's account and it was -happy for her that he had a mother whose character -was so imperfectly known to her, as to be the general -excuse for every thing strange on the part of her son. -Disappointed, however, and vexed as she was, and sometimes -displeased with his uncertain behaviour to herself, -she was very well disposed on the whole to regard his actions -with all the candid allowances and generous qualifications, -which had been rather more painfully extorted from her, -for Willoughby's service, by her mother. His want of spirits, -of openness, and of consistency, were most usually -attributed to his want of independence, and his better -knowledge of Mrs. Ferrars's disposition and designs. -The shortness of his visit, the steadiness of his purpose -in leaving them, originated in the same fettered inclination, -the same inevitable necessity of temporizing with his mother. -The old wellestablished grievance of duty against will, -parent against child, was the cause of all. She would have -been glad to know when these difficulties were to cease, -this opposition was to yield,when Mrs. Ferrars would -be reformed, and her son be at liberty to be happy. -But from such vain wishes she was forced to turn for comfort -to the renewal of her confidence in Edward's affection, -to the remembrance of every mark of regard in look or word -which fell from him while at Barton, and above all -to that flattering proof of it which he constantly wore -round his finger. -"I think, Edward," said Mrs. Dashwood, as they were -at breakfast the last morning, "you would be a happier man -if you had any profession to engage your time and give -an interest to your plans and actions. Some inconvenience -to your friends, indeed, might result from ityou -would not be able to give them so much of your time. -But with a smile you would be materially benefited -in one particular at leastyou would know where to go -when you left them." -"I do assure you," he replied, "that I have long -thought on this point, as you think now. It has been, -and is, and probably will always be a heavy misfortune -to me, that I have had no necessary business to engage me, -no profession to give me employment, or afford me any -thing like independence. But unfortunately my own nicety, -and the nicety of my friends, have made me what I am, -an idle, helpless being. We never could agree in our -choice of a profession. I always preferred the church, -as I still do. But that was not smart enough for my family. -They recommended the army. That was a great deal -too smart for me. The law was allowed to be genteel -enough many young men, who had chambers in the Temple, -made a very good appearance in the first circles, -and drove about town in very knowing gigs. But I had -no inclination for the law, even in this less abstruse -study of it, which my family approved. As for the navy, -it had fashion on its side, but I was too old when the -subject was first started to enter itand, at length, -as there was no necessity for my having any profession -at all, as I might be as dashing and expensive without -a red coat on my back as with one, idleness was pronounced -on the whole to be most advantageous and honourable, -and a young man of eighteen is not in general so earnestly -bent on being busy as to resist the solicitations of his -friends to do nothing. I was therefore entered at Oxford -and have been properly idle ever since." -"The consequence of which, I suppose, will be," -said Mrs. Dashwood, "since leisure has not promoted -your own happiness, that your sons will be brought up -to as many pursuits, employments, professions, and trades -as Columella's." -"They will be brought up," said he, in a serious accent, -"to be as unlike myself as is possible. In feeling, -in action, in condition, in every thing." -"Come, come this is all an effusion of immediate -want of spirits, Edward. You are in a melancholy humour, -and fancy that any one unlike yourself must be happy. -But remember that the pain of parting from friends -will be felt by every body at times, whatever be their -education or state. Know your own happiness. You want -nothing but patienceor give it a more fascinating name, -call it hope. Your mother will secure to you, in time, -that independence you are so anxious for it is her duty, -and it will, it must ere long become her happiness to -prevent your whole youth from being wasted in discontent. -How much may not a few months do?" -"I think," replied Edward, "that I may defy many -months to produce any good to me." -This desponding turn of mind, though it could not -be communicated to Mrs. Dashwood, gave additional pain -to them all in the parting, which shortly took place, -and left an uncomfortable impression on Elinor's -feelings especially, which required some trouble and time -to subdue. But as it was her determination to subdue it, -and to prevent herself from appearing to suffer more than -what all her family suffered on his going away, she did -not adopt the method so judiciously employed by Marianne, -on a similar occasion, to augment and fix her sorrow, -by seeking silence, solitude and idleness. Their means -were as different as their objects, and equally suited -to the advancement of each. -Elinor sat down to her drawingtable as soon as he -was out of the house, busily employed herself the whole day, -neither sought nor avoided the mention of his name, -appeared to interest herself almost as much as ever in the -general concerns of the family, and if, by this conduct, -she did not lessen her own grief, it was at least prevented -from unnecessary increase, and her mother and sisters -were spared much solicitude on her account. -Such behaviour as this, so exactly the reverse -of her own, appeared no more meritorious to Marianne, -than her own had seemed faulty to her. The business -of selfcommand she settled very easilywith strong -affections it was impossible, with calm ones it could -have no merit. That her sister's affections WERE calm, -she dared not deny, though she blushed to acknowledge it -and of the strength of her own, she gave a very striking proof, -by still loving and respecting that sister, in spite -of this mortifying conviction. -Without shutting herself up from her family, -or leaving the house in determined solitude to avoid them, -or lying awake the whole night to indulge meditation, -Elinor found every day afforded her leisure enough -to think of Edward, and of Edward's behaviour, in every -possible variety which the different state of her spirits -at different times could produce,with tenderness, -pity, approbation, censure, and doubt. There were moments -in abundance, when, if not by the absence of her mother -and sisters, at least by the nature of their employments, -conversation was forbidden among them, and every effect -of solitude was produced. Her mind was inevitably -at liberty her thoughts could not be chained elsewhere -and the past and the future, on a subject so interesting, -must be before her, must force her attention, and engross -her memory, her reflection, and her fancy. -From a reverie of this kind, as she sat at her -drawingtable, she was roused one morning, soon after -Edward's leaving them, by the arrival of company. -She happened to be quite alone. The closing of the -little gate, at the entrance of the green court in front -of the house, drew her eyes to the window, and she saw -a large party walking up to the door. Amongst them -were Sir John and Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, -but there were two others, a gentleman and lady, who were -quite unknown to her. She was sitting near the window, -and as soon as Sir John perceived her, he left the rest -of the party to the ceremony of knocking at the door, -and stepping across the turf, obliged her to open the -casement to speak to him, though the space was so short -between the door and the window, as to make it hardly -possible to speak at one without being heard at the other. -"Well," said he, "we have brought you some strangers. -How do you like them?" -"Hush they will hear you." -"Never mind if they do. It is only the Palmers. -Charlotte is very pretty, I can tell you. You may see her -if you look this way." -As Elinor was certain of seeing her in a couple -of minutes, without taking that liberty, she begged -to be excused. -"Where is Marianne? Has she run away because we -are come? I see her instrument is open." -"She is walking, I believe." -They were now joined by Mrs. Jennings, who had not -patience enough to wait till the door was opened before -she told HER story. She came hallooing to the window, -"How do you do, my dear? How does Mrs. Dashwood do? -And where are your sisters? What all alone you -will be glad of a little company to sit with you. -I have brought my other son and daughter to see you. -Only think of their coming so suddenly I thought I heard -a carriage last night, while we were drinking our tea, -but it never entered my head that it could be them. -I thought of nothing but whether it might not be Colonel -Brandon come back again so I said to Sir John, I do think -I hear a carriage perhaps it is Colonel Brandon come -back again" -Elinor was obliged to turn from her, in the middle -of her story, to receive the rest of the party Lady -Middleton introduced the two strangers Mrs. Dashwood -and Margaret came down stairs at the same time, and they -all sat down to look at one another, while Mrs. Jennings -continued her story as she walked through the passage -into the parlour, attended by Sir John. -Mrs. Palmer was several years younger than Lady -Middleton, and totally unlike her in every respect. -She was short and plump, had a very pretty face, -and the finest expression of good humour in it that could -possibly be. Her manners were by no means so elegant -as her sister's, but they were much more prepossessing. -She came in with a smile, smiled all the time of her visit, -except when she laughed, and smiled when she went away. -Her husband was a grave looking young man of five or six -and twenty, with an air of more fashion and sense than -his wife, but of less willingness to please or be pleased. -He entered the room with a look of selfconsequence, -slightly bowed to the ladies, without speaking a word, -and, after briefly surveying them and their apartments, -took up a newspaper from the table, and continued to read it -as long as he staid. -Mrs. Palmer, on the contrary, who was strongly endowed -by nature with a turn for being uniformly civil and happy, -was hardly seated before her admiration of the parlour -and every thing in it burst forth. -"Well what a delightful room this is I never -saw anything so charming Only think, Mamma, how it -is improved since I was here last I always thought it -such a sweet place, ma'am turning to Mrs. Dashwood -but you have made it so charming Only look, sister, -how delightful every thing is How I should like such -a house for myself Should not you, Mr. Palmer?" -Mr. Palmer made her no answer, and did not even raise -his eyes from the newspaper. -"Mr. Palmer does not hear me," said she, laughing -"he never does sometimes. It is so ridiculous" -This was quite a new idea to Mrs. Dashwood she had -never been used to find wit in the inattention of any one, -and could not help looking with surprise at them both. -Mrs. Jennings, in the meantime, talked on as loud -as she could, and continued her account of their surprise, -the evening before, on seeing their friends, without -ceasing till every thing was told. Mrs. Palmer laughed -heartily at the recollection of their astonishment, -and every body agreed, two or three times over, that it -had been quite an agreeable surprise. -"You may believe how glad we all were to see them," -added Mrs. Jennings, leaning forward towards Elinor, -and speaking in a low voice as if she meant to be heard -by no one else, though they were seated on different sides -of the room "but, however, I can't help wishing they had -not travelled quite so fast, nor made such a long journey -of it, for they came all round by London upon account -of some business, for you know nodding significantly and -pointing to her daughter it was wrong in her situation. -I wanted her to stay at home and rest this morning, -but she would come with us she longed so much to see -you all" -Mrs. Palmer laughed, and said it would not do her -any harm. -"She expects to be confined in February," -continued Mrs. Jennings. -Lady Middleton could no longer endure such a conversation, -and therefore exerted herself to ask Mr. Palmer if there -was any news in the paper. -"No, none at all," he replied, and read on. -"Here comes Marianne," cried Sir John. "Now, Palmer, -you shall see a monstrous pretty girl." -He immediately went into the passage, opened the front door, -and ushered her in himself. Mrs. Jennings asked her, -as soon as she appeared, if she had not been to Allenham -and Mrs. Palmer laughed so heartily at the question, -as to show she understood it. Mr. Palmer looked up -on her entering the room, stared at her some minutes, -and then returned to his newspaper. Mrs. Palmer's eye -was now caught by the drawings which hung round the room. -She got up to examine them. -"Oh dear, how beautiful these are Well how delightful -Do but look, mama, how sweet I declare they are quite charming -I could look at them for ever." And then sitting down again, -she very soon forgot that there were any such things in the room. -When Lady Middleton rose to go away, Mr. Palmer -rose also, laid down the newspaper, stretched himself -and looked at them all around. -"My love, have you been asleep?" said his wife, laughing. -He made her no answer and only observed, after again -examining the room, that it was very low pitched, -and that the ceiling was crooked. He then made his bow, -and departed with the rest. -Sir John had been very urgent with them all to -spend the next day at the park. Mrs. Dashwood, who did -not chuse to dine with them oftener than they dined -at the cottage, absolutely refused on her own account -her daughters might do as they pleased. But they had no -curiosity to see how Mr. and Mrs. Palmer ate their dinner, -and no expectation of pleasure from them in any other way. -They attempted, therefore, likewise, to excuse themselves -the weather was uncertain, and not likely to be good. -But Sir John would not be satisfiedthe carriage should -be sent for them and they must come. Lady Middleton too, -though she did not press their mother, pressed them. -Mrs. Jennings and Mrs. Palmer joined their entreaties, all -seemed equally anxious to avoid a family party and the young -ladies were obliged to yield. -"Why should they ask us?" said Marianne, as soon as they -were gone. "The rent of this cottage is said to be low -but we have it on very hard terms, if we are to dine -at the park whenever any one is staying either with them, -or with us." -"They mean no less to be civil and kind to us now," -said Elinor, "by these frequent invitations, than by -those which we received from them a few weeks ago. -The alteration is not in them, if their parties are grown -tedious and dull. We must look for the change elsewhere." -CHAPTER -As the Miss Dashwoods entered the drawingroom of the park -the next day, at one door, Mrs. Palmer came running in at -the other, looking as good humoured and merry as before. -She took them all most affectionately by the hand, -and expressed great delight in seeing them again. -"I am so glad to see you" said she, seating herself -between Elinor and Marianne, "for it is so bad a day I was -afraid you might not come, which would be a shocking thing, -as we go away again tomorrow. We must go, for the Westons -come to us next week you know. It was quite a sudden thing -our coming at all, and I knew nothing of it till the carriage -was coming to the door, and then Mr. Palmer asked me if I -would go with him to Barton. He is so droll He never -tells me any thing I am so sorry we cannot stay longer -however we shall meet again in town very soon, I hope." -They were obliged to put an end to such an expectation. -"Not go to town" cried Mrs. Palmer, with a laugh, -"I shall be quite disappointed if you do not. I could -get the nicest house in world for you, next door to ours, -in Hanoversquare. You must come, indeed. I am sure -I shall be very happy to chaperon you at any time till -I am confined, if Mrs. Dashwood should not like to go -into public." -They thanked her but were obliged to resist all -her entreaties. -"Oh, my love," cried Mrs. Palmer to her husband, -who just then entered the room"you must help me to -persuade the Miss Dashwoods to go to town this winter." -Her love made no answer and after slightly bowing -to the ladies, began complaining of the weather. -"How horrid all this is" said he. "Such weather -makes every thing and every body disgusting. Dullness -is as much produced within doors as without, by rain. -It makes one detest all one's acquaintance. What the -devil does Sir John mean by not having a billiard room -in his house? How few people know what comfort is Sir -John is as stupid as the weather." -The rest of the company soon dropt in. -"I am afraid, Miss Marianne," said Sir John, "you have -not been able to take your usual walk to Allenham today." -Marianne looked very grave and said nothing. -"Oh, don't be so sly before us," said Mrs. Palmer -"for we know all about it, I assure you and I admire your -taste very much, for I think he is extremely handsome. -We do not live a great way from him in the country, you know. -Not above ten miles, I dare say." -"Much nearer thirty," said her husband. -"Ah, well there is not much difference. -I never was at his house but they say it is a sweet -pretty place." -"As vile a spot as I ever saw in my life," -said Mr. Palmer. -Marianne remained perfectly silent, though her -countenance betrayed her interest in what was said. -"Is it very ugly?" continued Mrs. Palmer"then it -must be some other place that is so pretty I suppose." -When they were seated in the dining room, Sir John -observed with regret that they were only eight all together. -"My dear," said he to his lady, "it is very provoking -that we should be so few. Why did not you ask the Gilberts -to come to us today?" -"Did not I tell you, Sir John, when you spoke to me -about it before, that it could not be done? They dined -with us last." -"You and I, Sir John," said Mrs. Jennings, -"should not stand upon such ceremony." -"Then you would be very illbred," cried Mr. Palmer. -"My love you contradict every body," said his wife -with her usual laugh. "Do you know that you are quite rude?" -"I did not know I contradicted any body in calling -your mother illbred." -"Ay, you may abuse me as you please," said the goodnatured -old lady, "you have taken Charlotte off my hands, and cannot -give her back again. So there I have the whip hand of you." -Charlotte laughed heartily to think that her -husband could not get rid of her and exultingly said, -she did not care how cross he was to her, as they must -live together. It was impossible for any one to be more -thoroughly goodnatured, or more determined to be happy -than Mrs. Palmer. The studied indifference, insolence, -and discontent of her husband gave her no pain -and when he scolded or abused her, she was highly diverted. -"Mr. Palmer is so droll" said she, in a whisper, -to Elinor. "He is always out of humour." -Elinor was not inclined, after a little observation, -to give him credit for being so genuinely and unaffectedly -illnatured or illbred as he wished to appear. -His temper might perhaps be a little soured by finding, -like many others of his sex, that through some unaccountable -bias in favour of beauty, he was the husband of a very silly -woman,but she knew that this kind of blunder was too -common for any sensible man to be lastingly hurt by it. -It was rather a wish of distinction, she believed, -which produced his contemptuous treatment of every body, -and his general abuse of every thing before him. -It was the desire of appearing superior to other people. -The motive was too common to be wondered at but the means, -however they might succeed by establishing his superiority -in illbreeding, were not likely to attach any one to him -except his wife. -"Oh, my dear Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Palmer soon afterwards, -"I have got such a favour to ask of you and your sister. -Will you come and spend some time at Cleveland this -Christmas? Now, pray do,and come while the Westons are -with us. You cannot think how happy I shall be It will -be quite delightfulMy love," applying to her husband, -"don't you long to have the Miss Dashwoods come to Cleveland?" -"Certainly," he replied, with a sneer"I came -into Devonshire with no other view." -"There now,"said his lady, "you see Mr. Palmer -expects you so you cannot refuse to come." -They both eagerly and resolutely declined her invitation. -"But indeed you must and shall come. I am sure you -will like it of all things. The Westons will be with us, -and it will be quite delightful. You cannot think -what a sweet place Cleveland is and we are so gay now, -for Mr. Palmer is always going about the country canvassing -against the election and so many people came to dine -with us that I never saw before, it is quite charming But, -poor fellow it is very fatiguing to him for he is forced -to make every body like him." -Elinor could hardly keep her countenance as she -assented to the hardship of such an obligation. -"How charming it will be," said Charlotte, "when he -is in Parliamentwon't it? How I shall laugh It will -be so ridiculous to see all his letters directed to him -with an M.P.But do you know, he says, he will never frank -for me? He declares he won't. Don't you, Mr. Palmer?" -Mr. Palmer took no notice of her. -"He cannot bear writing, you know," she continued -"he says it is quite shocking." -"No," said he, "I never said any thing so irrational. -Don't palm all your abuses of languages upon me." -"There now you see how droll he is. This is always -the way with him Sometimes he won't speak to me for half -a day together, and then he comes out with something -so drollall about any thing in the world." -She surprised Elinor very much as they returned -into the drawingroom, by asking her whether she did -not like Mr. Palmer excessively. -"Certainly," said Elinor "he seems very agreeable." -"WellI am so glad you do. I thought you would, -he is so pleasant and Mr. Palmer is excessively pleased -with you and your sisters I can tell you, and you can't -think how disappointed he will be if you don't come -to Cleveland.I can't imagine why you should object -to it." -Elinor was again obliged to decline her invitation -and by changing the subject, put a stop to her entreaties. -She thought it probable that as they lived in the -same county, Mrs. Palmer might be able to give some -more particular account of Willoughby's general -character, than could be gathered from the Middletons' -partial acquaintance with him and she was eager to gain -from any one, such a confirmation of his merits as might -remove the possibility of fear from Marianne. She began -by inquiring if they saw much of Mr. Willoughby at Cleveland, -and whether they were intimately acquainted with him. -"Oh dear, yes I know him extremely well," -replied Mrs. Palmer"Not that I ever spoke -to him, indeed but I have seen him for ever in town. -Somehow or other I never happened to be staying at Barton -while he was at Allenham. Mama saw him here once before -but I was with my uncle at Weymouth. However, I dare say -we should have seen a great deal of him in Somersetshire, -if it had not happened very unluckily that we should never -have been in the country together. He is very little -at Combe, I believe but if he were ever so much there, -I do not think Mr. Palmer would visit him, for he is -in the opposition, you know, and besides it is such a -way off. I know why you inquire about him, very well -your sister is to marry him. I am monstrous glad of it, -for then I shall have her for a neighbour you know." -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "you know much -more of the matter than I do, if you have any reason -to expect such a match." -"Don't pretend to deny it, because you know it is -what every body talks of. I assure you I heard of it -in my way through town." -"My dear Mrs. Palmer" -"Upon my honour I did.I met Colonel Brandon -Monday morning in Bondstreet, just before we left town, -and he told me of it directly." -"You surprise me very much. Colonel Brandon tell -you of it Surely you must be mistaken. To give such -intelligence to a person who could not be interested in it, -even if it were true, is not what I should expect Colonel -Brandon to do." -"But I do assure you it was so, for all that, -and I will tell you how it happened. When we met him, -he turned back and walked with us and so we began talking -of my brother and sister, and one thing and another, -and I said to him, 'So, Colonel, there is a new family -come to Barton cottage, I hear, and mama sends me word -they are very pretty, and that one of them is going to be -married to Mr. Willoughby of Combe Magna. Is it true, -pray? for of course you must know, as you have been in -Devonshire so lately.'" -"And what did the Colonel say?" -"Ohhe did not say much but he looked as if he -knew it to be true, so from that moment I set it down -as certain. It will be quite delightful, I declare -When is it to take place?" -"Mr. Brandon was very well I hope?" -"Oh yes, quite well and so full of your praises, -he did nothing but say fine things of you." -"I am flattered by his commendation. He seems -an excellent man and I think him uncommonly pleasing." -"So do I.He is such a charming man, that it -is quite a pity he should be so grave and so dull. -Mamma says HE was in love with your sister too. -I assure you it was a great compliment if he was, for he -hardly ever falls in love with any body." -"Is Mr. Willoughby much known in your part -of Somersetshire?" said Elinor. -"Oh yes, extremely well that is, I do not believe -many people are acquainted with him, because Combe Magna -is so far off but they all think him extremely agreeable -I assure you. Nobody is more liked than Mr. Willoughby -wherever he goes, and so you may tell your sister. -She is a monstrous lucky girl to get him, upon my honour -not but that he is much more lucky in getting her, -because she is so very handsome and agreeable, that nothing -can be good enough for her. However, I don't think -her hardly at all handsomer than you, I assure you -for I think you both excessively pretty, and so does -Mr. Palmer too I am sure, though we could not get him -to own it last night." -Mrs. Palmer's information respecting Willoughby -was not very material but any testimony in his favour, -however small, was pleasing to her. -"I am so glad we are got acquainted at last," -continued Charlotte."And now I hope we shall always be -great friends. You can't think how much I longed to see you -It is so delightful that you should live at the cottage -Nothing can be like it, to be sure And I am so glad -your sister is going to be well married I hope you will -be a great deal at Combe Magna. It is a sweet place, -by all accounts." -"You have been long acquainted with Colonel Brandon, -have not you?" -"Yes, a great while ever since my sister married. -He was a particular friend of Sir John's. I believe," -she added in a low voice, "he would have been very -glad to have had me, if he could. Sir John and Lady -Middleton wished it very much. But mama did not think -the match good enough for me, otherwise Sir John would -have mentioned it to the Colonel, and we should have been -married immediately." -"Did not Colonel Brandon know of Sir John's proposal -to your mother before it was made? Had he never owned -his affection to yourself?" -"Oh, no but if mama had not objected to it, -I dare say he would have liked it of all things. -He had not seen me then above twice, for it was before -I left school. However, I am much happier as I am. -Mr. Palmer is the kind of man I like." -CHAPTER -The Palmers returned to Cleveland the next day, -and the two families at Barton were again left to entertain -each other. But this did not last long Elinor had hardly -got their last visitors out of her head, had hardly done -wondering at Charlotte's being so happy without a cause, -at Mr. Palmer's acting so simply, with good abilities, -and at the strange unsuitableness which often existed between -husband and wife, before Sir John's and Mrs. Jennings's -active zeal in the cause of society, procured her some -other new acquaintance to see and observe. -In a morning's excursion to Exeter, they had met with -two young ladies, whom Mrs. Jennings had the satisfaction -of discovering to be her relations, and this was enough -for Sir John to invite them directly to the park, -as soon as their present engagements at Exeter were over. -Their engagements at Exeter instantly gave way before -such an invitation, and Lady Middleton was thrown into -no little alarm on the return of Sir John, by hearing -that she was very soon to receive a visit from two girls -whom she had never seen in her life, and of whose elegance, -whose tolerable gentility even, she could have no proof -for the assurances of her husband and mother on that subject -went for nothing at all. Their being her relations too -made it so much the worse and Mrs. Jennings's attempts -at consolation were therefore unfortunately founded, -when she advised her daughter not to care about their being -so fashionable because they were all cousins and must put -up with one another. As it was impossible, however, now to -prevent their coming, Lady Middleton resigned herself to the -idea of it, with all the philosophy of a wellbred woman, -contenting herself with merely giving her husband a gentle -reprimand on the subject five or six times every day. -The young ladies arrived their appearance was by -no means ungenteel or unfashionable. Their dress was -very smart, their manners very civil, they were delighted -with the house, and in raptures with the furniture, -and they happened to be so doatingly fond of children -that Lady Middleton's good opinion was engaged in their -favour before they had been an hour at the Park. -She declared them to be very agreeable girls indeed, -which for her ladyship was enthusiastic admiration. -Sir John's confidence in his own judgment rose with this -animated praise, and he set off directly for the cottage -to tell the Miss Dashwoods of the Miss Steeles' arrival, -and to assure them of their being the sweetest girls -in the world. From such commendation as this, however, -there was not much to be learned Elinor well knew -that the sweetest girls in the world were to be met -with in every part of England, under every possible -variation of form, face, temper and understanding. -Sir John wanted the whole family to walk to the Park directly -and look at his guests. Benevolent, philanthropic man It -was painful to him even to keep a third cousin to himself. -"Do come now," said he"pray comeyou must comeI -declare you shall comeYou can't think how you will -like them. Lucy is monstrous pretty, and so good humoured -and agreeable The children are all hanging about her already, -as if she was an old acquaintance. And they both long -to see you of all things, for they have heard at Exeter -that you are the most beautiful creatures in the world -and I have told them it is all very true, and a great -deal more. You will be delighted with them I am sure. -They have brought the whole coach full of playthings -for the children. How can you be so cross as not to come? -Why they are your cousins, you know, after a fashion. -YOU are my cousins, and they are my wife's, so you must -be related." -But Sir John could not prevail. He could only obtain -a promise of their calling at the Park within a day or two, -and then left them in amazement at their indifference, -to walk home and boast anew of their attractions to the -Miss Steeles, as he had been already boasting of the Miss -Steeles to them. -When their promised visit to the Park and consequent -introduction to these young ladies took place, they found -in the appearance of the eldest, who was nearly thirty, -with a very plain and not a sensible face, nothing to admire -but in the other, who was not more than two or three -and twenty, they acknowledged considerable beauty her -features were pretty, and she had a sharp quick eye, -and a smartness of air, which though it did not give -actual elegance or grace, gave distinction to her person. -Their manners were particularly civil, and Elinor soon -allowed them credit for some kind of sense, when she -saw with what constant and judicious attention they -were making themselves agreeable to Lady Middleton. -With her children they were in continual raptures, -extolling their beauty, courting their notice, and humouring -their whims and such of their time as could be spared from -the importunate demands which this politeness made on it, -was spent in admiration of whatever her ladyship was doing, -if she happened to be doing any thing, or in taking patterns -of some elegant new dress, in which her appearance -the day before had thrown them into unceasing delight. -Fortunately for those who pay their court through -such foibles, a fond mother, though, in pursuit of praise -for her children, the most rapacious of human beings, -is likewise the most credulous her demands are exorbitant -but she will swallow any thing and the excessive -affection and endurance of the Miss Steeles towards -her offspring were viewed therefore by Lady Middleton -without the smallest surprise or distrust. She saw with -maternal complacency all the impertinent encroachments -and mischievous tricks to which her cousins submitted. -She saw their sashes untied, their hair pulled about -their ears, their workbags searched, and their knives -and scissors stolen away, and felt no doubt of its being -a reciprocal enjoyment. It suggested no other surprise -than that Elinor and Marianne should sit so composedly by, -without claiming a share in what was passing. -"John is in such spirits today" said she, on his -taking Miss Steeles's pocket handkerchief, and throwing -it out of window"He is full of monkey tricks." -And soon afterwards, on the second boy's violently -pinching one of the same lady's fingers, she fondly observed, -"How playful William is" -"And here is my sweet little Annamaria," she added, -tenderly caressing a little girl of three years old, -who had not made a noise for the last two minutes -"And she is always so gentle and quietNever was there -such a quiet little thing" -But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, -a pin in her ladyship's head dress slightly scratching -the child's neck, produced from this pattern of gentleness -such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone by any -creature professedly noisy. The mother's consternation -was excessive but it could not surpass the alarm of the -Miss Steeles, and every thing was done by all three, -in so critical an emergency, which affection could suggest -as likely to assuage the agonies of the little sufferer. -She was seated in her mother's lap, covered with kisses, -her wound bathed with lavenderwater, by one of the -Miss Steeles, who was on her knees to attend her, -and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by the other. -With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise -to cease crying. She still screamed and sobbed lustily, -kicked her two brothers for offering to touch her, and all -their united soothings were ineffectual till Lady Middleton -luckily remembering that in a scene of similar distress -last week, some apricot marmalade had been successfully -applied for a bruised temple, the same remedy was eagerly -proposed for this unfortunate scratch, and a slight -intermission of screams in the young lady on hearing it, -gave them reason to hope that it would not be rejected. -She was carried out of the room therefore in her -mother's arms, in quest of this medicine, and as the -two boys chose to follow, though earnestly entreated -by their mother to stay behind, the four young ladies -were left in a quietness which the room had not known for -many hours. -"Poor little creatures" said Miss Steele, as soon -as they were gone. "It might have been a very sad accident." -"Yet I hardly know how," cried Marianne, "unless it -had been under totally different circumstances. -But this is the usual way of heightening alarm, where there -is nothing to be alarmed at in reality." -"What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is" said Lucy Steele. -Marianne was silent it was impossible for her to say -what she did not feel, however trivial the occasion -and upon Elinor therefore the whole task of telling lies -when politeness required it, always fell. She did her -best when thus called on, by speaking of Lady Middleton -with more warmth than she felt, though with far less than -Miss Lucy. -"And Sir John too," cried the elder sister, -"what a charming man he is" -Here too, Miss Dashwood's commendation, being only -simple and just, came in without any eclat. She merely -observed that he was perfectly good humoured and friendly. -"And what a charming little family they have I -never saw such fine children in my life.I declare I -quite doat upon them already, and indeed I am always -distractedly fond of children." -"I should guess so," said Elinor, with a smile, -"from what I have witnessed this morning." -"I have a notion," said Lucy, "you think the little -Middletons rather too much indulged perhaps they may be the -outside of enough but it is so natural in Lady Middleton -and for my part, I love to see children full of life -and spirits I cannot bear them if they are tame and quiet." -"I confess," replied Elinor, "that while I am at -Barton Park, I never think of tame and quiet children -with any abhorrence." -A short pause succeeded this speech, which was first -broken by Miss Steele, who seemed very much disposed -for conversation, and who now said rather abruptly, -"And how do you like Devonshire, Miss Dashwood? I suppose -you were very sorry to leave Sussex." -In some surprise at the familiarity of this question, -or at least of the manner in which it was spoken, -Elinor replied that she was. -"Norland is a prodigious beautiful place, is not it?" -added Miss Steele. -"We have heard Sir John admire it excessively," -said Lucy, who seemed to think some apology necessary -for the freedom of her sister. -"I think every one MUST admire it," replied Elinor, -"who ever saw the place though it is not to be supposed -that any one can estimate its beauties as we do." -"And had you a great many smart beaux there? I -suppose you have not so many in this part of the world -for my part, I think they are a vast addition always." -"But why should you think," said Lucy, looking ashamed -of her sister, "that there are not as many genteel young -men in Devonshire as Sussex?" -"Nay, my dear, I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there -an't. I'm sure there's a vast many smart beaux in Exeter -but you know, how could I tell what smart beaux there -might be about Norland and I was only afraid the Miss -Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton, if they had not -so many as they used to have. But perhaps you young ladies -may not care about the beaux, and had as lief be without -them as with them. For my part, I think they are vastly -agreeable, provided they dress smart and behave civil. -But I can't bear to see them dirty and nasty. Now there's -Mr. Rose at Exeter, a prodigious smart young man, -quite a beau, clerk to Mr. Simpson, you know, and yet if you -do but meet him of a morning, he is not fit to be seen. -I suppose your brother was quite a beau, Miss Dashwood, -before he married, as he was so rich?" -"Upon my word," replied Elinor, "I cannot tell you, -for I do not perfectly comprehend the meaning of the word. -But this I can say, that if he ever was a beau before -he married, he is one still for there is not the smallest -alteration in him." -"Oh dear one never thinks of married men's being -beauxthey have something else to do." -"Lord Anne," cried her sister, "you can talk of -nothing but beauxyou will make Miss Dashwood believe you -think of nothing else." And then to turn the discourse, -she began admiring the house and the furniture. -This specimen of the Miss Steeles was enough. -The vulgar freedom and folly of the eldest left -her no recommendation, and as Elinor was not blinded -by the beauty, or the shrewd look of the youngest, -to her want of real elegance and artlessness, she left -the house without any wish of knowing them better. -Not so the Miss Steeles.They came from Exeter, well -provided with admiration for the use of Sir John Middleton, -his family, and all his relations, and no niggardly -proportion was now dealt out to his fair cousins, whom they -declared to be the most beautiful, elegant, accomplished, -and agreeable girls they had ever beheld, and with whom -they were particularly anxious to be better acquainted. -And to be better acquainted therefore, Elinor soon found -was their inevitable lot, for as Sir John was entirely -on the side of the Miss Steeles, their party would be -too strong for opposition, and that kind of intimacy -must be submitted to, which consists of sitting an hour -or two together in the same room almost every day. -Sir John could do no more but he did not know that any -more was required to be together was, in his opinion, -to be intimate, and while his continual schemes for their -meeting were effectual, he had not a doubt of their being -established friends. -To do him justice, he did every thing in his power -to promote their unreserve, by making the Miss Steeles -acquainted with whatever he knew or supposed of his cousins' -situations in the most delicate particulars,and Elinor -had not seen them more than twice, before the eldest of -them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky -as to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she -came to Barton. -"'Twill be a fine thing to have her married so young -to be sure," said she, "and I hear he is quite a beau, -and prodigious handsome. And I hope you may have as good -luck yourself soon,but perhaps you may have a friend -in the corner already." -Elinor could not suppose that Sir John would be more -nice in proclaiming his suspicions of her regard for Edward, -than he had been with respect to Marianne indeed it was -rather his favourite joke of the two, as being somewhat -newer and more conjectural and since Edward's visit, -they had never dined together without his drinking to her -best affections with so much significancy and so many nods -and winks, as to excite general attention. The letter F -had been likewise invariably brought forward, and found -productive of such countless jokes, that its character -as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had been long -established with Elinor. -The Miss Steeles, as she expected, had now all the -benefit of these jokes, and in the eldest of them they -raised a curiosity to know the name of the gentleman -alluded to, which, though often impertinently expressed, -was perfectly of a piece with her general inquisitiveness -into the concerns of their family. But Sir John did not -sport long with the curiosity which he delighted to raise, -for he had at least as much pleasure in telling the name, -as Miss Steele had in hearing it. -"His name is Ferrars," said he, in a very audible whisper -"but pray do not tell it, for it's a great secret." -"Ferrars" repeated Miss Steele "Mr. Ferrars is -the happy man, is he? What your sisterinlaw's brother, -Miss Dashwood? a very agreeable young man to be sure -I know him very well." -"How can you say so, Anne?" cried Lucy, who generally -made an amendment to all her sister's assertions. -"Though we have seen him once or twice at my uncle's, it -is rather too much to pretend to know him very well." -Elinor heard all this with attention and surprise. -"And who was this uncle? Where did he live? How came -they acquainted?" She wished very much to have the subject -continued, though she did not chuse to join in it herself -but nothing more of it was said, and for the first time -in her life, she thought Mrs. Jennings deficient either -in curiosity after petty information, or in a disposition -to communicate it. The manner in which Miss Steele had -spoken of Edward, increased her curiosity for it struck -her as being rather illnatured, and suggested the suspicion -of that lady's knowing, or fancying herself to know something -to his disadvantage.But her curiosity was unavailing, -for no farther notice was taken of Mr. Ferrars's name by -Miss Steele when alluded to, or even openly mentioned by Sir -John. -CHAPTER -Marianne, who had never much toleration for any -thing like impertinence, vulgarity, inferiority of parts, -or even difference of taste from herself, was at -this time particularly illdisposed, from the state -of her spirits, to be pleased with the Miss Steeles, -or to encourage their advances and to the invariable -coldness of her behaviour towards them, which checked every -endeavour at intimacy on their side, Elinor principally -attributed that preference of herself which soon became -evident in the manners of both, but especially of Lucy, -who missed no opportunity of engaging her in conversation, -or of striving to improve their acquaintance by an easy -and frank communication of her sentiments. -Lucy was naturally clever her remarks were often -just and amusing and as a companion for half an hour -Elinor frequently found her agreeable but her powers -had received no aid from education she was ignorant -and illiterate and her deficiency of all mental improvement, -her want of information in the most common particulars, -could not be concealed from Miss Dashwood, in spite of her -constant endeavour to appear to advantage. Elinor saw, -and pitied her for, the neglect of abilities which education -might have rendered so respectable but she saw, with less -tenderness of feeling, the thorough want of delicacy, -of rectitude, and integrity of mind, which her attentions, -her assiduities, her flatteries at the Park betrayed -and she could have no lasting satisfaction in the company -of a person who joined insincerity with ignorance -whose want of instruction prevented their meeting -in conversation on terms of equality, and whose conduct -toward others made every shew of attention and deference -towards herself perfectly valueless. -"You will think my question an odd one, I dare say," -said Lucy to her one day, as they were walking together -from the park to the cottage"but pray, are you -personally acquainted with your sisterinlaw's mother, -Mrs. Ferrars?" -Elinor DID think the question a very odd one, -and her countenance expressed it, as she answered that she -had never seen Mrs. Ferrars. -"Indeed" replied Lucy "I wonder at that, for I -thought you must have seen her at Norland sometimes. -Then, perhaps, you cannot tell me what sort of a woman -she is?" -"No," returned Elinor, cautious of giving her real -opinion of Edward's mother, and not very desirous -of satisfying what seemed impertinent curiosity -"I know nothing of her." -"I am sure you think me very strange, for enquiring -about her in such a way," said Lucy, eyeing Elinor attentively -as she spoke "but perhaps there may be reasonsI wish -I might venture but however I hope you will do me the justice -of believing that I do not mean to be impertinent." -Elinor made her a civil reply, and they walked on -for a few minutes in silence. It was broken by Lucy, -who renewed the subject again by saying, with some -hesitation, -"I cannot bear to have you think me impertinently curious. -I am sure I would rather do any thing in the world than be -thought so by a person whose good opinion is so well worth -having as yours. And I am sure I should not have the smallest -fear of trusting YOU indeed, I should be very glad of your -advice how to manage in such and uncomfortable situation -as I am but, however, there is no occasion to trouble YOU. -I am sorry you do not happen to know Mrs. Ferrars." -"I am sorry I do NOT," said Elinor, in great astonishment, -"if it could be of any use to YOU to know my opinion of her. -But really I never understood that you were at all connected -with that family, and therefore I am a little surprised, -I confess, at so serious an inquiry into her character." -"I dare say you are, and I am sure I do not at all -wonder at it. But if I dared tell you all, you would not be -so much surprised. Mrs. Ferrars is certainly nothing to me -at presentbut the time MAY comehow soon it will come -must depend upon herselfwhen we may be very intimately -connected." -She looked down as she said this, amiably bashful, -with only one side glance at her companion to observe its -effect on her. -"Good heavens" cried Elinor, "what do you mean? -Are you acquainted with Mr. Robert Ferrars? Can you be?" -And she did not feel much delighted with the idea of such -a sisterinlaw. -"No," replied Lucy, "not to Mr. ROBERT FerrarsI -never saw him in my life but," fixing her eyes upon Elinor, -"to his eldest brother." -What felt Elinor at that moment? Astonishment, -that would have been as painful as it was strong, had not -an immediate disbelief of the assertion attended it. -She turned towards Lucy in silent amazement, unable to divine -the reason or object of such a declaration and though -her complexion varied, she stood firm in incredulity, -and felt in no danger of an hysterical fit, or a swoon. -"You may well be surprised," continued Lucy -"for to be sure you could have had no idea of it before -for I dare say he never dropped the smallest hint of it -to you or any of your family because it was always meant -to be a great secret, and I am sure has been faithfully -kept so by me to this hour. Not a soul of all my relations -know of it but Anne, and I never should have mentioned -it to you, if I had not felt the greatest dependence -in the world upon your secrecy and I really thought my -behaviour in asking so many questions about Mrs. Ferrars -must seem so odd, that it ought to be explained. -And I do not think Mr. Ferrars can be displeased, -when he knows I have trusted you, because I know he has -the highest opinion in the world of all your family, -and looks upon yourself and the other Miss Dashwoods quite -as his own sisters."She paused. -Elinor for a few moments remained silent. -Her astonishment at what she heard was at first too -great for words but at length forcing herself to speak, -and to speak cautiously, she said, with calmness of manner, -which tolerably well concealed her surprise and solicitude -"May I ask if your engagement is of long standing?" -"We have been engaged these four years." -"Four years" -"Yes." -Elinor, though greatly shocked, still felt unable -to believe it. -"I did not know," said she, "that you were even -acquainted till the other day." -"Our acquaintance, however, is of many years date. -He was under my uncle's care, you know, a considerable while." -"Your uncle" -"Yes Mr. Pratt. Did you never hear him talk -of Mr. Pratt?" -"I think I have," replied Elinor, with an exertion -of spirits, which increased with her increase of emotion. -"He was four years with my uncle, who lives at Longstaple, -near Plymouth. It was there our acquaintance begun, -for my sister and me was often staying with my uncle, -and it was there our engagement was formed, though not till -a year after he had quitted as a pupil but he was almost -always with us afterwards. I was very unwilling to enter -into it, as you may imagine, without the knowledge and -approbation of his mother but I was too young, and loved -him too well, to be so prudent as I ought to have been. -Though you do not know him so well as me, Miss Dashwood, -you must have seen enough of him to be sensible he is -very capable of making a woman sincerely attached to him." -"Certainly," answered Elinor, without knowing what -she said but after a moment's reflection, she added, -with revived security of Edward's honour and love, -and her companion's falsehood"Engaged to Mr. Edward -FerrarsI confess myself so totally surprised at -what you tell me, that reallyI beg your pardon -but surely there must be some mistake of person or name. -We cannot mean the same Mr. Ferrars." -"We can mean no other," cried Lucy, smiling. "Mr. Edward -Ferrars, the eldest son of Mrs. Ferrars, of Park Street, -and brother of your sisterinlaw, Mrs. John Dashwood, -is the person I mean you must allow that I am not likely -to be deceived as to the name of the man on who all my happiness -depends." -"It is strange," replied Elinor, in a most painful perplexity, -"that I should never have heard him even mention your name." -"No considering our situation, it was not strange. -Our first care has been to keep the matter secret. -You knew nothing of me, or my family, and, therefore, -there could be no OCCASION for ever mentioning my name -to you and, as he was always particularly afraid of his -sister's suspecting any thing, THAT was reason enough -for his not mentioning it." -She was silent.Elinor's security sunk but her -selfcommand did not sink with it. -"Four years you have been engaged," said she -with a firm voice. -"Yes and heaven knows how much longer we may have -to wait. Poor Edward It puts him quite out of heart." -Then taking a small miniature from her pocket, she added, -"To prevent the possibility of mistake, be so good as to look -at this face. It does not do him justice, to be sure, -but yet I think you cannot be deceived as to the person -it was drew for.I have had it above these three years." -She put it into her hands as she spoke and when Elinor -saw the painting, whatever other doubts her fear of a -too hasty decision, or her wish of detecting falsehood -might suffer to linger in her mind, she could have none of -its being Edward's face. She returned it almost instantly, -acknowledging the likeness. -"I have never been able," continued Lucy, "to give -him my picture in return, which I am very much vexed at, -for he has been always so anxious to get it But I am -determined to set for it the very first opportunity." -"You are quite in the right," replied Elinor calmly. -They then proceeded a few paces in silence. Lucy spoke first. -"I am sure," said she, "I have no doubt in the world -of your faithfully keeping this secret, because you must -know of what importance it is to us, not to have it reach -his mother for she would never approve of it, I dare say. -I shall have no fortune, and I fancy she is an exceeding -proud woman." -"I certainly did not seek your confidence," said Elinor -"but you do me no more than justice in imagining that I -may be depended on. Your secret is safe with me -but pardon me if I express some surprise at so unnecessary -a communication. You must at least have felt that my -being acquainted with it could not add to its safety." -As she said this, she looked earnestly at Lucy, -hoping to discover something in her countenance perhaps the -falsehood of the greatest part of what she had been saying -but Lucy's countenance suffered no change. -"I was afraid you would think I was taking a great -liberty with you," said she, "in telling you all this. -I have not known you long to be sure, personally at least, -but I have known you and all your family by description -a great while and as soon as I saw you, I felt almost as if -you was an old acquaintance. Besides in the present case, -I really thought some explanation was due to you after my -making such particular inquiries about Edward's mother -and I am so unfortunate, that I have not a creature whose -advice I can ask. Anne is the only person that knows of it, -and she has no judgment at all indeed, she does me a great -deal more harm than good, for I am in constant fear of her -betraying me. She does not know how to hold her tongue, -as you must perceive, and I am sure I was in the greatest -fright in the world t'other day, when Edward's name was -mentioned by Sir John, lest she should out with it all. -You can't think how much I go through in my mind from -it altogether. I only wonder that I am alive after what -I have suffered for Edward's sake these last four years. -Every thing in such suspense and uncertainty and seeing -him so seldomwe can hardly meet above twice ayear. -I am sure I wonder my heart is not quite broke." -Here she took out her handkerchief but Elinor did -not feel very compassionate. -"Sometimes." continued Lucy, after wiping her eyes, -"I think whether it would not be better for us both -to break off the matter entirely." As she said this, -she looked directly at her companion. "But then -at other times I have not resolution enough for it. -I cannot bear the thoughts of making him so miserable, -as I know the very mention of such a thing would do. -And on my own account tooso dear as he is to meI don't -think I could be equal to it. What would you advise -me to do in such a case, Miss Dashwood? What would you -do yourself?" -"Pardon me," replied Elinor, startled by the question -"but I can give you no advice under such circumstances. -Your own judgment must direct you." -"To be sure," continued Lucy, after a few minutes -silence on both sides, "his mother must provide for him -sometime or other but poor Edward is so cast down by it -Did you not think him dreadful lowspirited when he was at -Barton? He was so miserable when he left us at Longstaple, -to go to you, that I was afraid you would think him quite ill." -"Did he come from your uncle's, then, when he visited us?" -"Oh, yes he had been staying a fortnight with us. -Did you think he came directly from town?" -"No," replied Elinor, most feelingly sensible of -every fresh circumstance in favour of Lucy's veracity -"I remember he told us, that he had been staying -a fortnight with some friends near Plymouth." -She remembered too, her own surprise at the time, -at his mentioning nothing farther of those friends, -at his total silence with respect even to their names. -"Did not you think him sadly out of spirits?" -repeated Lucy. -"We did, indeed, particularly so when he first arrived." -"I begged him to exert himself for fear you -should suspect what was the matter but it made him -so melancholy, not being able to stay more than a -fortnight with us, and seeing me so much affected. -Poor fellowI am afraid it is just the same with him now -for he writes in wretched spirits. I heard from him just -before I left Exeter" taking a letter from her pocket -and carelessly showing the direction to Elinor. -"You know his hand, I dare say, a charming one it is -but that is not written so well as usual.He was tired, -I dare say, for he had just filled the sheet to me as full -as possible." -Elinor saw that it WAS his hand, and she could doubt -no longer. This picture, she had allowed herself to believe, -might have been accidentally obtained it might not have -been Edward's gift but a correspondence between them -by letter, could subsist only under a positive engagement, -could be authorised by nothing else for a few moments, she -was almost overcomeher heart sunk within her, and she could -hardly stand but exertion was indispensably necessary -and she struggled so resolutely against the oppression -of her feelings, that her success was speedy, and for -the time complete. -"Writing to each other," said Lucy, returning the -letter into her pocket, "is the only comfort we have -in such long separations. Yes, I have one other comfort -in his picture, but poor Edward has not even THAT. -If he had but my picture, he says he should be easy. -I gave him a lock of my hair set in a ring when he was at -Longstaple last, and that was some comfort to him, he said, -but not equal to a picture. Perhaps you might notice -the ring when you saw him?" -"I did," said Elinor, with a composure of voice, -under which was concealed an emotion and distress beyond -any thing she had ever felt before. She was mortified, -shocked, confounded. -Fortunately for her, they had now reached the cottage, -and the conversation could be continued no farther. -After sitting with them a few minutes, the Miss Steeles -returned to the Park, and Elinor was then at liberty -to think and be wretched. -[At this point in the first and second editions, Volume ends.] -CHAPTER -However small Elinor's general dependence on -Lucy's veracity might be, it was impossible for her -on serious reflection to suspect it in the present case, -where no temptation could be answerable to the folly -of inventing a falsehood of such a description. What Lucy -had asserted to be true, therefore, Elinor could not, -dared not longer doubt supported as it was too on every -side by such probabilities and proofs, and contradicted -by nothing but her own wishes. Their opportunity of -acquaintance in the house of Mr. Pratt was a foundation -for the rest, at once indisputable and alarming and Edward's -visit near Plymouth, his melancholy state of mind, -his dissatisfaction at his own prospects, his uncertain -behaviour towards herself, the intimate knowledge of the -Miss Steeles as to Norland and their family connections, -which had often surprised her, the picture, the letter, -the ring, formed altogether such a body of evidence, -as overcame every fear of condemning him unfairly, -and established as a fact, which no partiality could -set aside, his illtreatment of herself.Her resentment -of such behaviour, her indignation at having been its dupe, -for a short time made her feel only for herself -but other ideas, other considerations, soon arose. -Had Edward been intentionally deceiving her? Had he feigned -a regard for her which he did not feel? Was his engagement -to Lucy an engagement of the heart? No whatever it might -once have been, she could not believe it such at present. -His affection was all her own. She could not be deceived -in that. Her mother, sisters, Fanny, all had been -conscious of his regard for her at Norland it was not -an illusion of her own vanity. He certainly loved her. -What a softener of the heart was this persuasion How much -could it not tempt her to forgive He had been blamable, -highly blamable, in remaining at Norland after he first -felt her influence over him to be more than it ought -to be. In that, he could not be defended but if he -had injured her, how much more had he injured himself -if her case were pitiable, his was hopeless. -His imprudence had made her miserable for a while but it -seemed to have deprived himself of all chance of ever -being otherwise. She might in time regain tranquillity -but HE, what had he to look forward to? Could he -ever be tolerably happy with Lucy Steele could he, -were his affection for herself out of the question, -with his integrity, his delicacy, and wellinformed mind, -be satisfied with a wife like herilliterate, artful, -and selfish? -The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally -blind him to every thing but her beauty and good nature -but the four succeeding yearsyears, which if rationally -spent, give such improvement to the understanding, must -have opened his eyes to her defects of education, -while the same period of time, spent on her side -in inferior society and more frivolous pursuits, -had perhaps robbed her of that simplicity which might -once have given an interesting character to her beauty. -If in the supposition of his seeking to marry herself, -his difficulties from his mother had seemed great, -how much greater were they now likely to be, when -the object of his engagement was undoubtedly inferior -in connections, and probably inferior in fortune to herself. -These difficulties, indeed, with a heart so alienated -from Lucy, might not press very hard upon his patience -but melancholy was the state of the person by whom the -expectation of family opposition and unkindness, could -be felt as a relief -As these considerations occurred to her in painful -succession, she wept for him, more than for herself. -Supported by the conviction of having done nothing to -merit her present unhappiness, and consoled by the belief -that Edward had done nothing to forfeit her esteem, -she thought she could even now, under the first smart -of the heavy blow, command herself enough to guard every -suspicion of the truth from her mother and sisters. -And so well was she able to answer her own expectations, -that when she joined them at dinner only two hours -after she had first suffered the extinction of all her -dearest hopes, no one would have supposed from the -appearance of the sisters, that Elinor was mourning -in secret over obstacles which must divide her for ever -from the object of her love, and that Marianne was -internally dwelling on the perfections of a man, of whose -whole heart she felt thoroughly possessed, and whom she -expected to see in every carriage which drove near their house. -The necessity of concealing from her mother and -Marianne, what had been entrusted in confidence to herself, -though it obliged her to unceasing exertion, was no -aggravation of Elinor's distress. On the contrary -it was a relief to her, to be spared the communication -of what would give such affliction to them, and to be -saved likewise from hearing that condemnation of Edward, -which would probably flow from the excess of their partial -affection for herself, and which was more than she felt -equal to support. -From their counsel, or their conversation, she knew -she could receive no assistance, their tenderness and -sorrow must add to her distress, while her selfcommand -would neither receive encouragement from their example -nor from their praise. She was stronger alone, -and her own good sense so well supported her, that her -firmness was as unshaken, her appearance of cheerfulness -as invariable, as with regrets so poignant and so fresh, -it was possible for them to be. -Much as she had suffered from her first conversation -with Lucy on the subject, she soon felt an earnest wish -of renewing it and this for more reasons than one. -She wanted to hear many particulars of their engagement -repeated again, she wanted more clearly to understand -what Lucy really felt for Edward, whether there were any -sincerity in her declaration of tender regard for him, -and she particularly wanted to convince Lucy, by her -readiness to enter on the matter again, and her calmness -in conversing on it, that she was no otherwise interested -in it than as a friend, which she very much feared -her involuntary agitation, in their morning discourse, -must have left at least doubtful. That Lucy was disposed -to be jealous of her appeared very probable it was plain -that Edward had always spoken highly in her praise, -not merely from Lucy's assertion, but from her venturing -to trust her on so short a personal acquaintance, -with a secret so confessedly and evidently important. -And even Sir John's joking intelligence must have had -some weight. But indeed, while Elinor remained so well -assured within herself of being really beloved by Edward, -it required no other consideration of probabilities -to make it natural that Lucy should be jealous -and that she was so, her very confidence was a proof. -What other reason for the disclosure of the affair could -there be, but that Elinor might be informed by it of Lucy's -superior claims on Edward, and be taught to avoid him -in future? She had little difficulty in understanding thus -much of her rival's intentions, and while she was firmly -resolved to act by her as every principle of honour and -honesty directed, to combat her own affection for Edward -and to see him as little as possible she could not deny -herself the comfort of endeavouring to convince Lucy -that her heart was unwounded. And as she could now have -nothing more painful to hear on the subject than had already -been told, she did not mistrust her own ability of going -through a repetition of particulars with composure. -But it was not immediately that an opportunity -of doing so could be commanded, though Lucy was as well -disposed as herself to take advantage of any that occurred -for the weather was not often fine enough to allow -of their joining in a walk, where they might most easily -separate themselves from the others and though they -met at least every other evening either at the park -or cottage, and chiefly at the former, they could -not be supposed to meet for the sake of conversation. -Such a thought would never enter either Sir John or Lady -Middleton's head and therefore very little leisure -was ever given for a general chat, and none at all for -particular discourse. They met for the sake of eating, -drinking, and laughing together, playing at cards, -or consequences, or any other game that was sufficiently noisy. -One or two meetings of this kind had taken place, -without affording Elinor any chance of engaging Lucy -in private, when Sir John called at the cottage one morning, -to beg, in the name of charity, that they would all -dine with Lady Middleton that day, as he was obliged -to attend the club at Exeter, and she would otherwise be -quite alone, except her mother and the two Miss Steeles. -Elinor, who foresaw a fairer opening for the point she -had in view, in such a party as this was likely to be, -more at liberty among themselves under the tranquil -and wellbred direction of Lady Middleton than when -her husband united them together in one noisy purpose, -immediately accepted the invitation Margaret, with her -mother's permission, was equally compliant, and Marianne, -though always unwilling to join any of their parties, -was persuaded by her mother, who could not bear to have her -seclude herself from any chance of amusement, to go likewise. -The young ladies went, and Lady Middleton was happily -preserved from the frightful solitude which had threatened her. -The insipidity of the meeting was exactly such as Elinor -had expected it produced not one novelty of thought -or expression, and nothing could be less interesting -than the whole of their discourse both in the dining -parlour and drawing room to the latter, the children -accompanied them, and while they remained there, she was -too well convinced of the impossibility of engaging Lucy's -attention to attempt it. They quitted it only with the -removal of the teathings. The cardtable was then placed, -and Elinor began to wonder at herself for having ever -entertained a hope of finding time for conversation -at the park. They all rose up in preparation for a round game. -"I am glad," said Lady Middleton to Lucy, -"you are not going to finish poor little Annamaria's -basket this evening for I am sure it must hurt your -eyes to work filigree by candlelight. And we will make -the dear little love some amends for her disappointment -tomorrow, and then I hope she will not much mind it." -This hint was enough, Lucy recollected herself instantly -and replied, "Indeed you are very much mistaken, -Lady Middleton I am only waiting to know whether you can -make your party without me, or I should have been at my -filigree already. I would not disappoint the little angel -for all the world and if you want me at the cardtable now, -I am resolved to finish the basket after supper." -"You are very good, I hope it won't hurt your eyes -will you ring the bell for some working candles? -My poor little girl would be sadly disappointed, I know, -if the basket was not finished tomorrow, for though I -told her it certainly would not, I am sure she depends -upon having it done." -Lucy directly drew her work table near her -and reseated herself with an alacrity and cheerfulness -which seemed to infer that she could taste no greater -delight than in making a filigree basket for a spoilt child. -Lady Middleton proposed a rubber of Casino to the others. -No one made any objection but Marianne, who with her usual -inattention to the forms of general civility, exclaimed, -"Your Ladyship will have the goodness to excuse MEyou -know I detest cards. I shall go to the pianoforte -I have not touched it since it was tuned." And without -farther ceremony, she turned away and walked to the instrument. -Lady Middleton looked as if she thanked heaven -that SHE had never made so rude a speech. -"Marianne can never keep long from that instrument -you know, ma'am," said Elinor, endeavouring to smooth -away the offence "and I do not much wonder at it for it -is the very best toned pianoforte I ever heard." -The remaining five were now to draw their cards. -"Perhaps," continued Elinor, "if I should happen -to cut out, I may be of some use to Miss Lucy Steele, -in rolling her papers for her and there is so much still -to be done to the basket, that it must be impossible -I think for her labour singly, to finish it this evening. -I should like the work exceedingly, if she would allow -me a share in it." -"Indeed I shall be very much obliged to you -for your help," cried Lucy, "for I find there is more -to be done to it than I thought there was and it would -be a shocking thing to disappoint dear Annamaria after all." -"Oh that would be terrible, indeed," said Miss Steele -"Dear little soul, how I do love her" -"You are very kind," said Lady Middleton to Elinor -"and as you really like the work, perhaps you will be -as well pleased not to cut in till another rubber, -or will you take your chance now?" -Elinor joyfully profited by the first of these proposals, -and thus by a little of that address which Marianne -could never condescend to practise, gained her own end, -and pleased Lady Middleton at the same time. Lucy made room -for her with ready attention, and the two fair rivals were -thus seated side by side at the same table, and, with the -utmost harmony, engaged in forwarding the same work. -The pianoforte at which Marianne, wrapped up in her own -music and her own thoughts, had by this time forgotten -that any body was in the room besides herself, was luckily -so near them that Miss Dashwood now judged she might safely, -under the shelter of its noise, introduce the interesting -subject, without any risk of being heard at the cardtable. -CHAPTER -In a firm, though cautious tone, Elinor thus began. -"I should be undeserving of the confidence you have -honoured me with, if I felt no desire for its continuance, -or no farther curiosity on its subject. I will -not apologize therefore for bringing it forward again." -"Thank you," cried Lucy warmly, "for breaking -the ice you have set my heart at ease by it for I was -somehow or other afraid I had offended you by what I -told you that Monday." -"Offended me How could you suppose so? Believe me," -and Elinor spoke it with the truest sincerity, -"nothing could be farther from my intention than to give -you such an idea. Could you have a motive for the trust, -that was not honourable and flattering to me?" -"And yet I do assure you," replied Lucy, her little -sharp eyes full of meaning, "there seemed to me to be -a coldness and displeasure in your manner that made me -quite uncomfortable. I felt sure that you was angry with me -and have been quarrelling with myself ever since, for having -took such a liberty as to trouble you with my affairs. -But I am very glad to find it was only my own fancy, -and that you really do not blame me. If you knew what a -consolation it was to me to relieve my heart speaking to you -of what I am always thinking of every moment of my life, -your compassion would make you overlook every thing else -I am sure." -"Indeed, I can easily believe that it was a very great -relief to you, to acknowledge your situation to me, and be -assured that you shall never have reason to repent it. -Your case is a very unfortunate one you seem to me to -be surrounded with difficulties, and you will have need -of all your mutual affection to support you under them. -Mr. Ferrars, I believe, is entirely dependent on his mother." -"He has only two thousand pounds of his own it would -be madness to marry upon that, though for my own part, -I could give up every prospect of more without a sigh. -I have been always used to a very small income, and could -struggle with any poverty for him but I love him too well -to be the selfish means of robbing him, perhaps, of all that -his mother might give him if he married to please her. -We must wait, it may be for many years. With almost every -other man in the world, it would be an alarming prospect -but Edward's affection and constancy nothing can deprive me of -I know." -"That conviction must be every thing to you -and he is undoubtedly supported by the same trust in your's. -If the strength of your reciprocal attachment had failed, -as between many people, and under many circumstances -it naturally would during a four years' engagement, -your situation would have been pitiable, indeed." -Lucy here looked up but Elinor was careful -in guarding her countenance from every expression -that could give her words a suspicious tendency. -"Edward's love for me," said Lucy, "has been pretty -well put to the test, by our long, very long absence -since we were first engaged, and it has stood the trial -so well, that I should be unpardonable to doubt it now. -I can safely say that he has never gave me one moment's -alarm on that account from the first." -Elinor hardly knew whether to smile or sigh -at this assertion. -Lucy went on. "I am rather of a jealous temper too -by nature, and from our different situations in life, -from his being so much more in the world than me, and our -continual separation, I was enough inclined for suspicion, -to have found out the truth in an instant, if there had been -the slightest alteration in his behaviour to me when we met, -or any lowness of spirits that I could not account for, -or if he had talked more of one lady than another, -or seemed in any respect less happy at Longstaple than he -used to be. I do not mean to say that I am particularly -observant or quicksighted in general, but in such a case -I am sure I could not be deceived." -"All this," thought Elinor, "is very pretty -but it can impose upon neither of us." -"But what," said she after a short silence, -"are your views? or have you none but that of waiting for -Mrs. Ferrars's death, which is a melancholy and shocking -extremity?Is her son determined to submit to this, -and to all the tediousness of the many years of suspense -in which it may involve you, rather than run the risk -of her displeasure for a while by owning the truth?" -"If we could be certain that it would be only -for a while But Mrs. Ferrars is a very headstrong -proud woman, and in her first fit of anger upon hearing -it, would very likely secure every thing to Robert, -and the idea of that, for Edward's sake, frightens away -all my inclination for hasty measures." -"And for your own sake too, or you are carrying -your disinterestedness beyond reason." -Lucy looked at Elinor again, and was silent. -"Do you know Mr. Robert Ferrars?" asked Elinor. -"Not at allI never saw him but I fancy he -is very unlike his brothersilly and a great coxcomb." -"A great coxcomb" repeated Miss Steele, whose ear had -caught those words by a sudden pause in Marianne's music. -"Oh, they are talking of their favourite beaux, I dare say." -"No sister," cried Lucy, "you are mistaken there, our -favourite beaux are NOT great coxcombs." -"I can answer for it that Miss Dashwood's is not," -said Mrs. Jennings, laughing heartily "for he is one -of the modestest, prettiest behaved young men I ever saw -but as for Lucy, she is such a sly little creature, -there is no finding out who SHE likes." -"Oh," cried Miss Steele, looking significantly round -at them, "I dare say Lucy's beau is quite as modest -and pretty behaved as Miss Dashwood's." -Elinor blushed in spite of herself. Lucy bit her lip, -and looked angrily at her sister. A mutual silence took -place for some time. Lucy first put an end to it by saying -in a lower tone, though Marianne was then giving them -the powerful protection of a very magnificent concerto -"I will honestly tell you of one scheme which has -lately come into my head, for bringing matters to bear -indeed I am bound to let you into the secret, for you -are a party concerned. I dare say you have seen enough -of Edward to know that he would prefer the church to every -other profession now my plan is that he should take -orders as soon as he can, and then through your interest, -which I am sure you would be kind enough to use out of -friendship for him, and I hope out of some regard to me, -your brother might be persuaded to give him Norland living -which I understand is a very good one, and the present -incumbent not likely to live a great while. That would -be enough for us to marry upon, and we might trust to time -and chance for the rest." -"I should always be happy," replied Elinor, "to show -any mark of my esteem and friendship for Mr. Ferrars -but do you not perceive that my interest on such an -occasion would be perfectly unnecessary? He is brother -to Mrs. John DashwoodTHAT must be recommendation enough -to her husband." -"But Mrs. John Dashwood would not much approve -of Edward's going into orders." -"Then I rather suspect that my interest would -do very little." -They were again silent for many minutes. At length -Lucy exclaimed with a deep sigh, -"I believe it would be the wisest way to put an end -to the business at once by dissolving the engagement. -We seem so beset with difficulties on every side, -that though it would make us miserable for a time, -we should be happier perhaps in the end. But you will -not give me your advice, Miss Dashwood?" -"No," answered Elinor, with a smile, which concealed -very agitated feelings, "on such a subject I certainly -will not. You know very well that my opinion would have -no weight with you, unless it were on the side of your wishes." -"Indeed you wrong me," replied Lucy, with great -solemnity "I know nobody of whose judgment I think -so highly as I do of yours and I do really believe, -that if you was to say to me, 'I advise you by all means -to put an end to your engagement with Edward Ferrars, -it will be more for the happiness of both of you,' -I should resolve upon doing it immediately." -Elinor blushed for the insincerity of Edward's -future wife, and replied, "This compliment would effectually -frighten me from giving any opinion on the subject -had I formed one. It raises my influence much too high -the power of dividing two people so tenderly attached -is too much for an indifferent person." -"'Tis because you are an indifferent person," said Lucy, -with some pique, and laying a particular stress on those words, -"that your judgment might justly have such weight with me. -If you could be supposed to be biased in any respect -by your own feelings, your opinion would not be worth having." -Elinor thought it wisest to make no answer to this, -lest they might provoke each other to an unsuitable increase -of ease and unreserve and was even partly determined -never to mention the subject again. Another pause -therefore of many minutes' duration, succeeded this speech, -and Lucy was still the first to end it. -"Shall you be in town this winter, Miss Dashwood?" -said she with all her accustomary complacency. -"Certainly not." -"I am sorry for that," returned the other, -while her eyes brightened at the information, -"it would have gave me such pleasure to meet you there -But I dare say you will go for all that. To be sure, -your brother and sister will ask you to come to them." -"It will not be in my power to accept their invitation -if they do." -"How unlucky that is I had quite depended upon -meeting you there. Anne and me are to go the latter end -of January to some relations who have been wanting us to -visit them these several years But I only go for the sake -of seeing Edward. He will be there in February, otherwise -London would have no charms for me I have not spirits for it." -Elinor was soon called to the cardtable by the -conclusion of the first rubber, and the confidential -discourse of the two ladies was therefore at an end, -to which both of them submitted without any reluctance, -for nothing had been said on either side to make them -dislike each other less than they had done before -and Elinor sat down to the card table with the melancholy -persuasion that Edward was not only without affection -for the person who was to be his wife but that he had -not even the chance of being tolerably happy in marriage, -which sincere affection on HER side would have given, -for selfinterest alone could induce a woman to keep a man -to an engagement, of which she seemed so thoroughly aware -that he was weary. -From this time the subject was never revived by Elinor, -and when entered on by Lucy, who seldom missed an opportunity -of introducing it, and was particularly careful to inform -her confidante, of her happiness whenever she received a letter -from Edward, it was treated by the former with calmness -and caution, and dismissed as soon as civility would allow -for she felt such conversations to be an indulgence which -Lucy did not deserve, and which were dangerous to herself. -The visit of the Miss Steeles at Barton Park was -lengthened far beyond what the first invitation implied. -Their favour increased they could not be spared -Sir John would not hear of their going and in spite -of their numerous and long arranged engagements in Exeter, -in spite of the absolute necessity of returning to fulfill -them immediately, which was in full force at the end -of every week, they were prevailed on to stay nearly two -months at the park, and to assist in the due celebration -of that festival which requires a more than ordinary -share of private balls and large dinners to proclaim -its importance. -CHAPTER -Though Mrs. Jennings was in the habit of spending a large -portion of the year at the houses of her children and friends, -she was not without a settled habitation of her own. -Since the death of her husband, who had traded with success -in a less elegant part of the town, she had resided every -winter in a house in one of the streets near Portman Square. -Towards this home, she began on the approach of January -to turn her thoughts, and thither she one day abruptly, -and very unexpectedly by them, asked the elder Misses -Dashwood to accompany her. Elinor, without observing -the varying complexion of her sister, and the animated look -which spoke no indifference to the plan, immediately gave -a grateful but absolute denial for both, in which she -believed herself to be speaking their united inclinations. -The reason alleged was their determined resolution -of not leaving their mother at that time of the year. -Mrs. Jennings received the refusal with some surprise, -and repeated her invitation immediately. -"Oh, Lord I am sure your mother can spare you -very well, and I DO beg you will favour me with -your company, for I've quite set my heart upon it. -Don't fancy that you will be any inconvenience to me, -for I shan't put myself at all out of my way for you. -It will only be sending Betty by the coach, and I -hope I can afford THAT. We three shall be able to go -very well in my chaise and when we are in town, -if you do not like to go wherever I do, well and good, -you may always go with one of my daughters. I am sure -your mother will not object to it for I have had such -good luck in getting my own children off my hands that she -will think me a very fit person to have the charge of you -and if I don't get one of you at least well married -before I have done with you, it shall not be my fault. -I shall speak a good word for you to all the young men, -you may depend upon it." -"I have a notion," said Sir John, "that Miss Marianne -would not object to such a scheme, if her elder sister -would come into it. It is very hard indeed that she -should not have a little pleasure, because Miss Dashwood -does not wish it. So I would advise you two, to set off -for town, when you are tired of Barton, without saying -a word to Miss Dashwood about it." -"Nay," cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure I shall be -monstrous glad of Miss Marianne's company, whether Miss -Dashwood will go or not, only the more the merrier say I, -and I thought it would be more comfortable for them to -be together because, if they got tired of me, they might talk -to one another, and laugh at my old ways behind my back. -But one or the other, if not both of them, I must have. -Lord bless me how do you think I can live poking by myself, -I who have been always used till this winter to have -Charlotte with me. Come, Miss Marianne, let us strike -hands upon the bargain, and if Miss Dashwood will change -her mind by and bye, why so much the better." -"I thank you, ma'am, sincerely thank you," said Marianne, -with warmth "your invitation has insured my gratitude for ever, -and it would give me such happiness, yes, almost the greatest -happiness I am capable of, to be able to accept it. -But my mother, my dearest, kindest mother,I feel the -justice of what Elinor has urged, and if she were to be -made less happy, less comfortable by our absenceOh no, -nothing should tempt me to leave her. It should not, -must not be a struggle." -Mrs. Jennings repeated her assurance that Mrs. Dashwood -could spare them perfectly well and Elinor, who now -understood her sister, and saw to what indifference to -almost every thing else she was carried by her eagerness -to be with Willoughby again, made no farther direct -opposition to the plan, and merely referred it to her -mother's decision, from whom however she scarcely expected -to receive any support in her endeavour to prevent a visit, -which she could not approve of for Marianne, and which -on her own account she had particular reasons to avoid. -Whatever Marianne was desirous of, her mother would be eager -to promoteshe could not expect to influence the latter -to cautiousness of conduct in an affair respecting which she -had never been able to inspire her with distrust and she -dared not explain the motive of her own disinclination -for going to London. That Marianne, fastidious as she was, -thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. Jennings' manners, -and invariably disgusted by them, should overlook every -inconvenience of that kind, should disregard whatever -must be most wounding to her irritable feelings, in her -pursuit of one object, was such a proof, so strong, -so full, of the importance of that object to her, as Elinor, -in spite of all that had passed, was not prepared to witness. -On being informed of the invitation, Mrs. Dashwood, -persuaded that such an excursion would be productive -of much amusement to both her daughters, and perceiving -through all her affectionate attention to herself, -how much the heart of Marianne was in it, would not hear -of their declining the offer upon HER account insisted on -their both accepting it directly and then began to foresee, -with her usual cheerfulness, a variety of advantages that -would accrue to them all, from this separation. -"I am delighted with the plan," she cried, -"it is exactly what I could wish. Margaret and I shall -be as much benefited by it as yourselves. When you -and the Middletons are gone, we shall go on so quietly -and happily together with our books and our music You -will find Margaret so improved when you come back again -I have a little plan of alteration for your bedrooms too, -which may now be performed without any inconvenience -to any one. It is very right that you SHOULD go to town -I would have every young woman of your condition in life -acquainted with the manners and amusements of London. -You will be under the care of a motherly good sort -of woman, of whose kindness to you I can have no doubt. -And in all probability you will see your brother, -and whatever may be his faults, or the faults of his wife, -when I consider whose son he is, I cannot bear to have you so -wholly estranged from each other." -"Though with your usual anxiety for our happiness," -said Elinor, "you have been obviating every impediment -to the present scheme which occurred to you, there is -still one objection which, in my opinion, cannot be so -easily removed." -Marianne's countenance sunk. -"And what," said Mrs. Dashwood, "is my dear prudent -Elinor going to suggest? What formidable obstacle is she -now to bring forward? Do let me hear a word about the -expense of it." -"My objection is this though I think very well of -Mrs. Jennings's heart, she is not a woman whose society -can afford us pleasure, or whose protection will give -us consequence." -"That is very true," replied her mother, "but of -her society, separately from that of other people, -you will scarcely have any thing at all, and you will -almost always appear in public with Lady Middleton." -"If Elinor is frightened away by her dislike of -Mrs. Jennings," said Marianne, "at least it need not prevent -MY accepting her invitation. I have no such scruples, -and I am sure I could put up with every unpleasantness -of that kind with very little effort." -Elinor could not help smiling at this display of -indifference towards the manners of a person, to whom she -had often had difficulty in persuading Marianne to behave -with tolerable politeness and resolved within herself, -that if her sister persisted in going, she would -go likewise, as she did not think it proper that Marianne -should be left to the sole guidance of her own judgment, -or that Mrs. Jennings should be abandoned to the mercy -of Marianne for all the comfort of her domestic hours. -To this determination she was the more easily reconciled, -by recollecting that Edward Ferrars, by Lucy's account, -was not to be in town before February and that -their visit, without any unreasonable abridgement, -might be previously finished. -"I will have you BOTH go," said Mrs. Dashwood -"these objections are nonsensical. You will have much -pleasure in being in London, and especially in being together -and if Elinor would ever condescend to anticipate enjoyment, -she would foresee it there from a variety of sources -she would, perhaps, expect some from improving her -acquaintance with her sisterinlaw's family." -Elinor had often wished for an opportunity of -attempting to weaken her mother's dependence on the -attachment of Edward and herself, that the shock might -be less when the whole truth were revealed, and now -on this attack, though almost hopeless of success, -she forced herself to begin her design by saying, -as calmly as she could, "I like Edward Ferrars very much, -and shall always be glad to see him but as to the rest -of the family, it is a matter of perfect indifference -to me, whether I am ever known to them or not." -Mrs. Dashwood smiled, and said nothing. -Marianne lifted up her eyes in astonishment, and Elinor -conjectured that she might as well have held her tongue. -After very little farther discourse, it was finally -settled that the invitation should be fully accepted. -Mrs. Jennings received the information with a great -deal of joy, and many assurances of kindness and care -nor was it a matter of pleasure merely to her. Sir John -was delighted for to a man, whose prevailing anxiety -was the dread of being alone, the acquisition of two, -to the number of inhabitants in London, was something. -Even Lady Middleton took the trouble of being delighted, -which was putting herself rather out of her way -and as for the Miss Steeles, especially Lucy, they had -never been so happy in their lives as this intelligence -made them. -Elinor submitted to the arrangement which counteracted -her wishes with less reluctance than she had expected -to feel. With regard to herself, it was now a matter -of unconcern whether she went to town or not, and when -she saw her mother so thoroughly pleased with the plan, -and her sister exhilarated by it in look, voice, and manner, -restored to all her usual animation, and elevated to more -than her usual gaiety, she could not be dissatisfied -with the cause, and would hardly allow herself to distrust -the consequence. -Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness, -so great was the perturbation of her spirits and her -impatience to be gone. Her unwillingness to quit her -mother was her only restorative to calmness and at the -moment of parting her grief on that score was excessive. -Her mother's affliction was hardly less, and Elinor -was the only one of the three, who seemed to consider -the separation as any thing short of eternal. -Their departure took place in the first week in January. -The Middletons were to follow in about a week. The Miss -Steeles kept their station at the park, and were to quit -it only with the rest of the family. -CHAPTER -Elinor could not find herself in the carriage with Mrs. Jennings, -and beginning a journey to London under her protection, -and as her guest, without wondering at her own situation, -so short had their acquaintance with that lady been, -so wholly unsuited were they in age and disposition, -and so many had been her objections against such a measure -only a few days before But these objections had all, -with that happy ardour of youth which Marianne and her mother -equally shared, been overcome or overlooked and Elinor, -in spite of every occasional doubt of Willoughby's constancy, -could not witness the rapture of delightful expectation -which filled the whole soul and beamed in the eyes -of Marianne, without feeling how blank was her own prospect, -how cheerless her own state of mind in the comparison, -and how gladly she would engage in the solicitude of -Marianne's situation to have the same animating object -in view, the same possibility of hope. A short, a very -short time however must now decide what Willoughby's -intentions were in all probability he was already in town. -Marianne's eagerness to be gone declared her dependence -on finding him there and Elinor was resolved not only upon -gaining every new light as to his character which her -own observation or the intelligence of others could give her, -but likewise upon watching his behaviour to her sister -with such zealous attention, as to ascertain what he was -and what he meant, before many meetings had taken place. -Should the result of her observations be unfavourable, -she was determined at all events to open the eyes -of her sister should it be otherwise, her exertions -would be of a different natureshe must then learn -to avoid every selfish comparison, and banish every regret -which might lessen her satisfaction in the happiness of Marianne. -They were three days on their journey, and Marianne's -behaviour as they travelled was a happy specimen of what -future complaisance and companionableness to Mrs. Jennings -might be expected to be. She sat in silence almost all -the way, wrapt in her own meditations, and scarcely ever -voluntarily speaking, except when any object of picturesque -beauty within their view drew from her an exclamation -of delight exclusively addressed to her sister. To atone -for this conduct therefore, Elinor took immediate possession -of the post of civility which she had assigned herself, -behaved with the greatest attention to Mrs. Jennings, -talked with her, laughed with her, and listened to her -whenever she could and Mrs. Jennings on her side -treated them both with all possible kindness, was solicitous -on every occasion for their ease and enjoyment, and only -disturbed that she could not make them choose their own -dinners at the inn, nor extort a confession of their -preferring salmon to cod, or boiled fowls to veal cutlets. -They reached town by three o'clock the third day, glad to -be released, after such a journey, from the confinement -of a carriage, and ready to enjoy all the luxury of a good fire. -The house was handsome, and handsomely fitted up, -and the young ladies were immediately put in possession -of a very comfortable apartment. It had formerly -been Charlotte's, and over the mantelpiece still hung -a landscape in coloured silks of her performance, -in proof of her having spent seven years at a great school -in town to some effect. -As dinner was not to be ready in less than two -hours from their arrival, Elinor determined to employ -the interval in writing to her mother, and sat down for -that purpose. In a few moments Marianne did the same. -"I am writing home, Marianne," said Elinor "had not you -better defer your letter for a day or two?" -"I am NOT going to write to my mother," -replied Marianne, hastily, and as if wishing to avoid -any farther inquiry. Elinor said no more it immediately -struck her that she must then be writing to Willoughby -and the conclusion which as instantly followed was, -that, however mysteriously they might wish to conduct -the affair, they must be engaged. This conviction, -though not entirely satisfactory, gave her pleasure, -and she continued her letter with greater alacrity. -Marianne's was finished in a very few minutes -in length it could be no more than a note it was then -folded up, sealed, and directed with eager rapidity. -Elinor thought she could distinguish a large W in -the direction and no sooner was it complete than Marianne, -ringing the bell, requested the footman who answered it -to get that letter conveyed for her to the twopenny post. -This decided the matter at once. -Her spirits still continued very high but there -was a flutter in them which prevented their giving much -pleasure to her sister, and this agitation increased as -the evening drew on. She could scarcely eat any dinner, -and when they afterwards returned to the drawing room, -seemed anxiously listening to the sound of every carriage. -It was a great satisfaction to Elinor that Mrs. Jennings, -by being much engaged in her own room, could see little -of what was passing. The tea things were brought in, -and already had Marianne been disappointed more than once -by a rap at a neighbouring door, when a loud one was suddenly -heard which could not be mistaken for one at any other house, -Elinor felt secure of its announcing Willoughby's approach, -and Marianne, starting up, moved towards the door. -Every thing was silent this could not be borne many seconds -she opened the door, advanced a few steps towards the stairs, -and after listening half a minute, returned into the room -in all the agitation which a conviction of having heard -him would naturally produce in the ecstasy of her -feelings at that instant she could not help exclaiming, -"Oh, Elinor, it is Willoughby, indeed it is" and seemed -almost ready to throw herself into his arms, when Colonel -Brandon appeared. -It was too great a shock to be borne with calmness, -and she immediately left the room. Elinor was disappointed too -but at the same time her regard for Colonel Brandon ensured -his welcome with her and she felt particularly hurt that -a man so partial to her sister should perceive that she -experienced nothing but grief and disappointment in seeing him. -She instantly saw that it was not unnoticed by him, -that he even observed Marianne as she quitted the room, -with such astonishment and concern, as hardly left him -the recollection of what civility demanded towards herself. -"Is your sister ill?" said he. -Elinor answered in some distress that she was, -and then talked of headaches, low spirits, and over fatigues -and of every thing to which she could decently attribute -her sister's behaviour. -He heard her with the most earnest attention, -but seeming to recollect himself, said no more on the subject, -and began directly to speak of his pleasure at seeing them -in London, making the usual inquiries about their journey, -and the friends they had left behind. -In this calm kind of way, with very little interest -on either side, they continued to talk, both of them out -of spirits, and the thoughts of both engaged elsewhere. -Elinor wished very much to ask whether Willoughby were -then in town, but she was afraid of giving him pain -by any enquiry after his rival and at length, by way -of saying something, she asked if he had been in London -ever since she had seen him last. "Yes," he replied, -with some embarrassment, "almost ever since I have been -once or twice at Delaford for a few days, but it has never -been in my power to return to Barton." -This, and the manner in which it was said, -immediately brought back to her remembrance all the -circumstances of his quitting that place, with the -uneasiness and suspicions they had caused to Mrs. Jennings, -and she was fearful that her question had implied -much more curiosity on the subject than she had ever felt. -Mrs. Jennings soon came in. "Oh Colonel," said she, -with her usual noisy cheerfulness, "I am monstrous glad -to see yousorry I could not come beforebeg your -pardon, but I have been forced to look about me a little, -and settle my matters for it is a long while since I -have been at home, and you know one has always a world -of little odd things to do after one has been away for -any time and then I have had Cartwright to settle with -Lord, I have been as busy as a bee ever since dinner -But pray, Colonel, how came you to conjure out that I should -be in town today?" -"I had the pleasure of hearing it at Mr. Palmer's, -where I have been dining." -"Oh, you did well, and how do they all do at their -house? How does Charlotte do? I warrant you she is a fine -size by this time." -"Mrs. Palmer appeared quite well, and I am commissioned -to tell you, that you will certainly see her tomorrow." -"Ay, to be sure, I thought as much. Well, Colonel, -I have brought two young ladies with me, you seethat is, -you see but one of them now, but there is another somewhere. -Your friend, Miss Marianne, toowhich you will not be -sorry to hear. I do not know what you and Mr. Willoughby -will do between you about her. Ay, it is a fine thing -to be young and handsome. Well I was young once, but I -never was very handsomeworse luck for me. However, I got -a very good husband, and I don't know what the greatest -beauty can do more. Ah poor man he has been dead -these eight years and better. But Colonel, where have -you been to since we parted? And how does your business -go on? Come, come, let's have no secrets among friends." -He replied with his accustomary mildness to all -her inquiries, but without satisfying her in any. -Elinor now began to make the tea, and Marianne was -obliged to appear again. -After her entrance, Colonel Brandon became -more thoughtful and silent than he had been before, -and Mrs. Jennings could not prevail on him to stay long. -No other visitor appeared that evening, and the ladies -were unanimous in agreeing to go early to bed. -Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits -and happy looks. The disappointment of the evening before -seemed forgotten in the expectation of what was to happen -that day. They had not long finished their breakfast before -Mrs. Palmer's barouche stopped at the door, and in a few -minutes she came laughing into the room so delighted -to see them all, that it was hard to say whether she -received most pleasure from meeting her mother or the Miss -Dashwoods again. So surprised at their coming to town, -though it was what she had rather expected all along -so angry at their accepting her mother's invitation -after having declined her own, though at the same time -she would never have forgiven them if they had not come -"Mr. Palmer will be so happy to see you," -said she "What do you think he said when he heard -of your coming with Mamma? I forget what it was now, -but it was something so droll" -After an hour or two spent in what her mother called -comfortable chat, or in other words, in every variety of inquiry -concerning all their acquaintance on Mrs. Jennings's side, -and in laughter without cause on Mrs. Palmer's, it was -proposed by the latter that they should all accompany -her to some shops where she had business that morning, -to which Mrs. Jennings and Elinor readily consented, -as having likewise some purchases to make themselves -and Marianne, though declining it at first was induced -to go likewise. -Wherever they went, she was evidently always on -the watch. In Bond Street especially, where much of -their business lay, her eyes were in constant inquiry -and in whatever shop the party were engaged, her mind was -equally abstracted from every thing actually before them, -from all that interested and occupied the others. -Restless and dissatisfied every where, her sister could -never obtain her opinion of any article of purchase, -however it might equally concern them both she received -no pleasure from anything was only impatient to be at -home again, and could with difficulty govern her vexation -at the tediousness of Mrs. Palmer, whose eye was caught -by every thing pretty, expensive, or new who was wild -to buy all, could determine on none, and dawdled away her -time in rapture and indecision. -It was late in the morning before they returned home -and no sooner had they entered the house than Marianne flew -eagerly up stairs, and when Elinor followed, she found -her turning from the table with a sorrowful countenance, -which declared that no Willoughby had been there. -"Has no letter been left here for me since we went out?" -said she to the footman who then entered with the parcels. -She was answered in the negative. "Are you quite sure -of it?" she replied. "Are you certain that no servant, -no porter has left any letter or note?" -The man replied that none had. -"How very odd" said she, in a low and disappointed -voice, as she turned away to the window. -"How odd, indeed" repeated Elinor within herself, -regarding her sister with uneasiness. "If she had not -known him to be in town she would not have written to him, -as she did she would have written to Combe Magna -and if he is in town, how odd that he should neither -come nor write Oh my dear mother, you must be wrong -in permitting an engagement between a daughter so young, -a man so little known, to be carried on in so doubtful, -so mysterious a manner I long to inquire and how will MY -interference be borne." -She determined, after some consideration, that if -appearances continued many days longer as unpleasant as they -now were, she would represent in the strongest manner -to her mother the necessity of some serious enquiry into the -affair. -Mrs. Palmer and two elderly ladies of Mrs. Jennings's -intimate acquaintance, whom she had met and invited -in the morning, dined with them. The former left them -soon after tea to fulfill her evening engagements -and Elinor was obliged to assist in making a whist table -for the others. Marianne was of no use on these occasions, -as she would never learn the game but though her time -was therefore at her own disposal, the evening was by no -means more productive of pleasure to her than to Elinor, -for it was spent in all the anxiety of expectation and the -pain of disappointment. She sometimes endeavoured for a -few minutes to read but the book was soon thrown aside, -and she returned to the more interesting employment -of walking backwards and forwards across the room, -pausing for a moment whenever she came to the window, -in hopes of distinguishing the longexpected rap. -CHAPTER -"If this open weather holds much longer," said Mrs. Jennings, -when they met at breakfast the following morning, -"Sir John will not like leaving Barton next week -'tis a sad thing for sportsmen to lose a day's pleasure. -Poor souls I always pity them when they do they seem -to take it so much to heart." -"That is true," cried Marianne, in a cheerful voice, -and walking to the window as she spoke, to examine the day. -"I had not thought of that. This weather will keep many -sportsmen in the country." -It was a lucky recollection, all her good spirits were -restored by it. "It is charming weather for THEM indeed," -she continued, as she sat down to the breakfast table -with a happy countenance. "How much they must enjoy -it But" with a little return of anxiety "it cannot -be expected to last long. At this time of the year, -and after such a series of rain, we shall certainly -have very little more of it. Frosts will soon set in, -and in all probability with severity. In another day -or two perhaps this extreme mildness can hardly last -longernay, perhaps it may freeze tonight" -"At any rate," said Elinor, wishing to prevent -Mrs. Jennings from seeing her sister's thoughts as clearly -as she did, "I dare say we shall have Sir John and Lady -Middleton in town by the end of next week." -"Ay, my dear, I'll warrant you we do. Mary always -has her own way." -"And now," silently conjectured Elinor, "she will -write to Combe by this day's post." -But if she DID, the letter was written and sent away -with a privacy which eluded all her watchfulness to ascertain -the fact. Whatever the truth of it might be, and far -as Elinor was from feeling thorough contentment about it, -yet while she saw Marianne in spirits, she could not be -very uncomfortable herself. And Marianne was in spirits -happy in the mildness of the weather, and still happier -in her expectation of a frost. -The morning was chiefly spent in leaving cards at -the houses of Mrs. Jennings's acquaintance to inform -them of her being in town and Marianne was all the time -busy in observing the direction of the wind, watching the -variations of the sky and imagining an alteration in the air. -"Don't you find it colder than it was in the morning, -Elinor? There seems to me a very decided difference. -I can hardly keep my hands warm even in my muff. It was -not so yesterday, I think. The clouds seem parting too, -the sun will be out in a moment, and we shall have a -clear afternoon." -Elinor was alternately diverted and pained -but Marianne persevered, and saw every night in the -brightness of the fire, and every morning in the appearance -of the atmosphere, the certain symptoms of approaching frost. -The Miss Dashwoods had no greater reason to be -dissatisfied with Mrs. Jennings's style of living, and set -of acquaintance, than with her behaviour to themselves, -which was invariably kind. Every thing in her household -arrangements was conducted on the most liberal plan, -and excepting a few old city friends, whom, to Lady -Middleton's regret, she had never dropped, she visited -no one to whom an introduction could at all discompose -the feelings of her young companions. Pleased to find -herself more comfortably situated in that particular than -she had expected, Elinor was very willing to compound -for the want of much real enjoyment from any of their -evening parties, which, whether at home or abroad, -formed only for cards, could have little to amuse her. -Colonel Brandon, who had a general invitation -to the house, was with them almost every day he came -to look at Marianne and talk to Elinor, who often derived -more satisfaction from conversing with him than from any -other daily occurrence, but who saw at the same time -with much concern his continued regard for her sister. -She feared it was a strengthening regard. It grieved her -to see the earnestness with which he often watched Marianne, -and his spirits were certainly worse than when at Barton. -About a week after their arrival, it became -certain that Willoughby was also arrived. His card -was on the table when they came in from the morning's drive. -"Good God" cried Marianne, "he has been here while -we were out." Elinor, rejoiced to be assured of his -being in London, now ventured to say, "Depend upon it, -he will call again tomorrow." But Marianne seemed -hardly to hear her, and on Mrs. Jenning's entrance, -escaped with the precious card. -This event, while it raised the spirits of Elinor, -restored to those of her sister all, and more than all, -their former agitation. From this moment her mind was -never quiet the expectation of seeing him every hour -of the day, made her unfit for any thing. She insisted -on being left behind, the next morning, when the others -went out. -Elinor's thoughts were full of what might be passing -in Berkeley Street during their absence but a moment's -glance at her sister when they returned was enough to -inform her, that Willoughby had paid no second visit there. -A note was just then brought in, and laid on the table, -"For me" cried Marianne, stepping hastily forward. -"No, ma'am, for my mistress." -But Marianne, not convinced, took it instantly up. -"It is indeed for Mrs. Jennings how provoking" -"You are expecting a letter, then?" said Elinor, -unable to be longer silent. -"Yes, a littlenot much." -After a short pause. "You have no confidence -in me, Marianne." -"Nay, Elinor, this reproach from YOUyou who have -confidence in no one" -"Me" returned Elinor in some confusion "indeed, -Marianne, I have nothing to tell." -"Nor I," answered Marianne with energy, "our situations -then are alike. We have neither of us any thing to tell -you, because you do not communicate, and I, because -I conceal nothing." -Elinor, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, -which she was not at liberty to do away, knew not how, -under such circumstances, to press for greater openness -in Marianne. -Mrs. Jennings soon appeared, and the note being -given her, she read it aloud. It was from Lady Middleton, -announcing their arrival in Conduit Street the night before, -and requesting the company of her mother and cousins -the following evening. Business on Sir John's part, -and a violent cold on her own, prevented their calling -in Berkeley Street. The invitation was accepted -but when the hour of appointment drew near, necessary as -it was in common civility to Mrs. Jennings, that they -should both attend her on such a visit, Elinor had some -difficulty in persuading her sister to go, for still -she had seen nothing of Willoughby and therefore was -not more indisposed for amusement abroad, than unwilling -to run the risk of his calling again in her absence. -Elinor found, when the evening was over, -that disposition is not materially altered by a change -of abode, for although scarcely settled in town, -Sir John had contrived to collect around him, nearly twenty -young people, and to amuse them with a ball. This was -an affair, however, of which Lady Middleton did not approve. -In the country, an unpremeditated dance was very allowable -but in London, where the reputation of elegance was more -important and less easily attained, it was risking too much -for the gratification of a few girls, to have it known that -Lady Middleton had given a small dance of eight or nine couple, -with two violins, and a mere sideboard collation. -Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were of the party from the former, -whom they had not seen before since their arrival in town, -as he was careful to avoid the appearance of any attention -to his motherinlaw, and therefore never came near her, -they received no mark of recognition on their entrance. -He looked at them slightly, without seeming to know -who they were, and merely nodded to Mrs. Jennings from -the other side of the room. Marianne gave one glance -round the apartment as she entered it was enoughHE -was not thereand she sat down, equally illdisposed -to receive or communicate pleasure. After they had been -assembled about an hour, Mr. Palmer sauntered towards -the Miss Dashwoods to express his surprise on seeing them -in town, though Colonel Brandon had been first informed -of their arrival at his house, and he had himself said -something very droll on hearing that they were to come. -"I thought you were both in Devonshire," said he. -"Did you?" replied Elinor. -"When do you go back again?" -"I do not know." And thus ended their discourse. -Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance -in her life, as she was that evening, and never so much -fatigued by the exercise. She complained of it -as they returned to Berkeley Street. -"Aye, aye," said Mrs. Jennings, "we know the reason -of all that very well if a certain person who shall -be nameless, had been there, you would not have been a -bit tired and to say the truth it was not very pretty -of him not to give you the meeting when he was invited." -"Invited" cried Marianne. -"So my daughter Middleton told me, for it seems Sir -John met him somewhere in the street this morning." -Marianne said no more, but looked exceedingly hurt. -Impatient in this situation to be doing something -that might lead to her sister's relief, Elinor resolved -to write the next morning to her mother, and hoped -by awakening her fears for the health of Marianne, -to procure those inquiries which had been so long delayed -and she was still more eagerly bent on this measure -by perceiving after breakfast on the morrow, that Marianne -was again writing to Willoughby, for she could not suppose -it to be to any other person. -About the middle of the day, Mrs. Jennings went out by -herself on business, and Elinor began her letter directly, -while Marianne, too restless for employment, too anxious -for conversation, walked from one window to the other, -or sat down by the fire in melancholy meditation. -Elinor was very earnest in her application to her mother, -relating all that had passed, her suspicions of -Willoughby's inconstancy, urging her by every plea -of duty and affection to demand from Marianne an account -of her real situation with respect to him. -Her letter was scarcely finished, when a rap -foretold a visitor, and Colonel Brandon was announced. -Marianne, who had seen him from the window, and who hated -company of any kind, left the room before he entered it. -He looked more than usually grave, and though expressing -satisfaction at finding Miss Dashwood alone, as if he -had somewhat in particular to tell her, sat for some -time without saying a word. Elinor, persuaded that he -had some communication to make in which her sister -was concerned, impatiently expected its opening. -It was not the first time of her feeling the same kind -of conviction for, more than once before, beginning with -the observation of "your sister looks unwell today," -or "your sister seems out of spirits," he had appeared -on the point, either of disclosing, or of inquiring, -something particular about her. After a pause of several -minutes, their silence was broken, by his asking her -in a voice of some agitation, when he was to congratulate -her on the acquisition of a brother? Elinor was not -prepared for such a question, and having no answer ready, -was obliged to adopt the simple and common expedient, -of asking what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied, -"your sister's engagement to Mr. Willoughby is very generally -known." -"It cannot be generally known," returned Elinor, -"for her own family do not know it." -He looked surprised and said, "I beg your pardon, -I am afraid my inquiry has been impertinent but I had not -supposed any secrecy intended, as they openly correspond, -and their marriage is universally talked of." -"How can that be? By whom can you have heard -it mentioned?" -"By manyby some of whom you know nothing, by others -with whom you are most intimate, Mrs. Jennings, Mrs. Palmer, -and the Middletons. But still I might not have believed it, -for where the mind is perhaps rather unwilling to -be convinced, it will always find something to support -its doubts, if I had not, when the servant let me in today, -accidentally seen a letter in his hand, directed to -Mr. Willoughby in your sister's writing. I came to inquire, -but I was convinced before I could ask the question. -Is every thing finally settled? Is it impossible to? -But I have no right, and I could have no chance of succeeding. -Excuse me, Miss Dashwood. I believe I have been wrong -in saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on -your prudence I have the strongest dependence. Tell me -that it is all absolutely resolved on, that any attempt, -that in short concealment, if concealment be possible, -is all that remains." -These words, which conveyed to Elinor a direct avowal -of his love for her sister, affected her very much. -She was not immediately able to say anything, and even -when her spirits were recovered, she debated for a short -time, on the answer it would be most proper to give. -The real state of things between Willoughby and her sister -was so little known to herself, that in endeavouring -to explain it, she might be as liable to say too much -as too little. Yet as she was convinced that Marianne's -affection for Willoughby, could leave no hope of Colonel -Brandon's success, whatever the event of that affection -might be, and at the same time wished to shield her conduct -from censure, she thought it most prudent and kind, -after some consideration, to say more than she really knew -or believed. She acknowledged, therefore, that though -she had never been informed by themselves of the terms -on which they stood with each other, of their mutual -affection she had no doubt, and of their correspondence -she was not astonished to hear. -He listened to her with silent attention, and on -her ceasing to speak, rose directly from his seat, -and after saying in a voice of emotion, "to your sister -I wish all imaginable happiness to Willoughby that he -may endeavour to deserve her,"took leave, and went away. -Elinor derived no comfortable feelings from this -conversation, to lessen the uneasiness of her mind on -other points she was left, on the contrary, with a -melancholy impression of Colonel Brandon's unhappiness, -and was prevented even from wishing it removed, -by her anxiety for the very event that must confirm it. -CHAPTER -Nothing occurred during the next three or four days, -to make Elinor regret what she had done, in applying -to her mother for Willoughby neither came nor wrote. -They were engaged about the end of that time to attend -Lady Middleton to a party, from which Mrs. Jennings was -kept away by the indisposition of her youngest daughter -and for this party, Marianne, wholly dispirited, -careless of her appearance, and seeming equally indifferent -whether she went or staid, prepared, without one look -of hope or one expression of pleasure. She sat by the -drawingroom fire after tea, till the moment of Lady -Middleton's arrival, without once stirring from her seat, -or altering her attitude, lost in her own thoughts, -and insensible of her sister's presence and when at -last they were told that Lady Middleton waited for them -at the door, she started as if she had forgotten that -any one was expected. -They arrived in due time at the place of destination, -and as soon as the string of carriages before them -would allow, alighted, ascended the stairs, heard their -names announced from one landingplace to another in an -audible voice, and entered a room splendidly lit up, -quite full of company, and insufferably hot. When they had -paid their tribute of politeness by curtsying to the lady -of the house, they were permitted to mingle in the crowd, -and take their share of the heat and inconvenience, to -which their arrival must necessarily add. After some time -spent in saying little or doing less, Lady Middleton sat -down to Cassino, and as Marianne was not in spirits for -moving about, she and Elinor luckily succeeding to chairs, -placed themselves at no great distance from the table. -They had not remained in this manner long, before Elinor -perceived Willoughby, standing within a few yards -of them, in earnest conversation with a very fashionable -looking young woman. She soon caught his eye, and he -immediately bowed, but without attempting to speak to her, -or to approach Marianne, though he could not but see her -and then continued his discourse with the same lady. -Elinor turned involuntarily to Marianne, to see whether -it could be unobserved by her. At that moment she first -perceived him, and her whole countenance glowing with -sudden delight, she would have moved towards him instantly, -had not her sister caught hold of her. -"Good heavens" she exclaimed, "he is therehe -is thereOh why does he not look at me? why cannot -I speak to him?" -"Pray, pray be composed," cried Elinor, "and do -not betray what you feel to every body present. -Perhaps he has not observed you yet." -This however was more than she could believe herself -and to be composed at such a moment was not only beyond -the reach of Marianne, it was beyond her wish. She sat -in an agony of impatience which affected every feature. -At last he turned round again, and regarded them both -she started up, and pronouncing his name in a tone -of affection, held out her hand to him. He approached, -and addressing himself rather to Elinor than Marianne, -as if wishing to avoid her eye, and determined not to -observe her attitude, inquired in a hurried manner after -Mrs. Dashwood, and asked how long they had been in town. -Elinor was robbed of all presence of mind by such an address, -and was unable to say a word. But the feelings of her sister -were instantly expressed. Her face was crimsoned over, -and she exclaimed, in a voice of the greatest emotion, -"Good God Willoughby, what is the meaning of this? -Have you not received my letters? Will you not shake -hands with me?" -He could not then avoid it, but her touch seemed -painful to him, and he held her hand only for a moment. -During all this time he was evidently struggling for composure. -Elinor watched his countenance and saw its expression -becoming more tranquil. After a moment's pause, he spoke -with calmness. -"I did myself the honour of calling in Berkeley -Street last Tuesday, and very much regretted that I was -not fortunate enough to find yourselves and Mrs. Jennings -at home. My card was not lost, I hope." -"But have you not received my notes?" cried Marianne -in the wildest anxiety. "Here is some mistake I am -suresome dreadful mistake. What can be the meaning -of it? Tell me, Willoughby for heaven's sake tell me, -what is the matter?" -He made no reply his complexion changed and all his -embarrassment returned but as if, on catching the eye -of the young lady with whom he had been previously talking, -he felt the necessity of instant exertion, he recovered -himself again, and after saying, "Yes, I had the pleasure -of receiving the information of your arrival in town, -which you were so good as to send me," turned hastily away -with a slight bow and joined his friend. -Marianne, now looking dreadfully white, and unable -to stand, sunk into her chair, and Elinor, expecting every -moment to see her faint, tried to screen her from the -observation of others, while reviving her with lavender water. -"Go to him, Elinor," she cried, as soon as she -could speak, "and force him to come to me. Tell him -I must see him againmust speak to him instantly. -I cannot restI shall not have a moment's peace till this -is explainedsome dreadful misapprehension or other. -Oh go to him this moment." -"How can that be done? No, my dearest Marianne, -you must wait. This is not the place for explanations. -Wait only till tomorrow." -With difficulty however could she prevent her -from following him herself and to persuade her to check -her agitation, to wait, at least, with the appearance -of composure, till she might speak to him with more privacy -and more effect, was impossible for Marianne continued -incessantly to give way in a low voice to the misery -of her feelings, by exclamations of wretchedness. -In a short time Elinor saw Willoughby quit the room by the -door towards the staircase, and telling Marianne that he -was gone, urged the impossibility of speaking to him again -that evening, as a fresh argument for her to be calm. -She instantly begged her sister would entreat Lady -Middleton to take them home, as she was too miserable -to stay a minute longer. -Lady Middleton, though in the middle of a rubber, -on being informed that Marianne was unwell, was too -polite to object for a moment to her wish of going away, -and making over her cards to a friend, they departed -as soon the carriage could be found. Scarcely a word -was spoken during their return to Berkeley Street. -Marianne was in a silent agony, too much oppressed even -for tears but as Mrs. Jennings was luckily not come home, -they could go directly to their own room, where hartshorn -restored her a little to herself. She was soon undressed -and in bed, and as she seemed desirous of being alone, -her sister then left her, and while she waited the return -of Mrs. Jennings, had leisure enough for thinking over -the past. -That some kind of engagement had subsisted -between Willoughby and Marianne she could not doubt, -and that Willoughby was weary of it, seemed equally clear -for however Marianne might still feed her own wishes, -SHE could not attribute such behaviour to mistake -or misapprehension of any kind. Nothing but a thorough -change of sentiment could account for it. Her indignation -would have been still stronger than it was, had she -not witnessed that embarrassment which seemed to speak -a consciousness of his own misconduct, and prevented -her from believing him so unprincipled as to have been -sporting with the affections of her sister from the first, -without any design that would bear investigation. -Absence might have weakened his regard, and convenience -might have determined him to overcome it, but that such -a regard had formerly existed she could not bring herself -to doubt. -As for Marianne, on the pangs which so unhappy a meeting -must already have given her, and on those still more -severe which might await her in its probable consequence, -she could not reflect without the deepest concern. -Her own situation gained in the comparison for while she -could ESTEEM Edward as much as ever, however they might be -divided in future, her mind might be always supported. -But every circumstance that could embitter such an evil -seemed uniting to heighten the misery of Marianne -in a final separation from Willoughbyin an immediate -and irreconcilable rupture with him. -CHAPTER -Before the housemaid had lit their fire the next day, -or the sun gained any power over a cold, gloomy morning -in January, Marianne, only half dressed, was kneeling -against one of the windowseats for the sake of all -the little light she could command from it, and writing -as fast as a continual flow of tears would permit her. -In this situation, Elinor, roused from sleep by her agitation -and sobs, first perceived her and after observing her -for a few moments with silent anxiety, said, in a tone -of the most considerate gentleness, -"Marianne, may I ask?" -"No, Elinor," she replied, "ask nothing you will -soon know all." -The sort of desperate calmness with which this was said, -lasted no longer than while she spoke, and was immediately -followed by a return of the same excessive affliction. -It was some minutes before she could go on with her letter, -and the frequent bursts of grief which still obliged her, -at intervals, to withhold her pen, were proofs enough of her -feeling how more than probable it was that she was writing -for the last time to Willoughby. -Elinor paid her every quiet and unobtrusive attention -in her power and she would have tried to sooth and -tranquilize her still more, had not Marianne entreated her, -with all the eagerness of the most nervous irritability, -not to speak to her for the world. In such circumstances, -it was better for both that they should not be long together -and the restless state of Marianne's mind not only prevented -her from remaining in the room a moment after she was dressed, -but requiring at once solitude and continual change of place, -made her wander about the house till breakfast time, avoiding -the sight of every body. -At breakfast she neither ate, nor attempted to eat -any thing and Elinor's attention was then all employed, -not in urging her, not in pitying her, nor in appearing -to regard her, but in endeavouring to engage Mrs. Jenning's -notice entirely to herself. -As this was a favourite meal with Mrs. Jennings, -it lasted a considerable time, and they were just setting -themselves, after it, round the common working table, when a -letter was delivered to Marianne, which she eagerly caught -from the servant, and, turning of a deathlike paleness, -instantly ran out of the room. Elinor, who saw as plainly -by this, as if she had seen the direction, that it must -come from Willoughby, felt immediately such a sickness -at heart as made her hardly able to hold up her head, -and sat in such a general tremour as made her fear it -impossible to escape Mrs. Jenning's notice. That good lady, -however, saw only that Marianne had received a letter -from Willoughby, which appeared to her a very good joke, -and which she treated accordingly, by hoping, with a laugh, -that she would find it to her liking. Of Elinor's distress, -she was too busily employed in measuring lengths of worsted -for her rug, to see any thing at all and calmly continuing -her talk, as soon as Marianne disappeared, she said, -"Upon my word, I never saw a young woman so -desperately in love in my life MY girls were nothing -to her, and yet they used to be foolish enough but as -for Miss Marianne, she is quite an altered creature. -I hope, from the bottom of my heart, he won't keep her -waiting much longer, for it is quite grievous to see her -look so ill and forlorn. Pray, when are they to be married?" -Elinor, though never less disposed to speak than at -that moment, obliged herself to answer such an attack -as this, and, therefore, trying to smile, replied, "And have -you really, Ma'am, talked yourself into a persuasion -of my sister's being engaged to Mr. Willoughby? I thought -it had been only a joke, but so serious a question seems -to imply more and I must beg, therefore, that you will not -deceive yourself any longer. I do assure you that nothing -would surprise me more than to hear of their being going -to be married." -"For shame, for shame, Miss Dashwood how can you -talk so? Don't we all know that it must be a match, that -they were over head and ears in love with each other from -the first moment they met? Did not I see them together -in Devonshire every day, and all day long and did not I -know that your sister came to town with me on purpose -to buy wedding clothes? Come, come, this won't do. -Because you are so sly about it yourself, you think nobody -else has any senses but it is no such thing, I can tell you, -for it has been known all over town this ever so long. -I tell every body of it and so does Charlotte." -"Indeed, Ma'am," said Elinor, very seriously, -"you are mistaken. Indeed, you are doing a very unkind thing -in spreading the report, and you will find that you have -though you will not believe me now." -Mrs. Jennings laughed again, but Elinor had not -spirits to say more, and eager at all events to know -what Willoughby had written, hurried away to their room, -where, on opening the door, she saw Marianne stretched on -the bed, almost choked by grief, one letter in her hand, -and two or three others laying by her. Elinor drew near, -but without saying a word and seating herself on the bed, -took her hand, kissed her affectionately several times, -and then gave way to a burst of tears, which at first -was scarcely less violent than Marianne's. The latter, -though unable to speak, seemed to feel all the tenderness -of this behaviour, and after some time thus spent in -joint affliction, she put all the letters into Elinor's hands -and then covering her face with her handkerchief, -almost screamed with agony. Elinor, who knew that such grief, -shocking as it was to witness it, must have its course, -watched by her till this excess of suffering had somewhat -spent itself, and then turning eagerly to Willoughby's letter, -read as follows -"Bond Street, January. -"MY DEAR MADAM, -"I have just had the honour of receiving your -letter, for which I beg to return my sincere -acknowledgments. I am much concerned to find there -was anything in my behaviour last night that did -not meet your approbation and though I am quite at -a loss to discover in what point I could be so -unfortunate as to offend you, I entreat your -forgiveness of what I can assure you to have been -perfectly unintentional. I shall never reflect on -my former acquaintance with your family in Devonshire -without the most grateful pleasure, and flatter -myself it will not be broken by any mistake or -misapprehension of my actions. My esteem for your -whole family is very sincere but if I have been so -unfortunate as to give rise to a belief of more than -I felt, or meant to express, I shall reproach myself -for not having been more guarded in my professions -of that esteem. That I should ever have meant more -you will allow to be impossible, when you understand -that my affections have been long engaged elsewhere, -and it will not be many weeks, I believe, before -this engagement is fulfilled. It is with great -regret that I obey your commands in returning the -letters with which I have been honoured from you, -and the lock of hair, which you so obligingly bestowed -on me. -"I am, dear Madam, -"Your most obedient -"humble servant, -"JOHN WILLOUGHBY." -With what indignation such a letter as this must -be read by Miss Dashwood, may be imagined. Though aware, -before she began it, that it must bring a confession -of his inconstancy, and confirm their separation for ever, -she was not aware that such language could be suffered -to announce it nor could she have supposed Willoughby -capable of departing so far from the appearance of every -honourable and delicate feelingso far from the common -decorum of a gentleman, as to send a letter so impudently -cruel a letter which, instead of bringing with his desire -of a release any professions of regret, acknowledged no -breach of faith, denied all peculiar affection whatever -a letter of which every line was an insult, and which -proclaimed its writer to be deep in hardened villainy. -She paused over it for some time with indignant -astonishment then read it again and again but every -perusal only served to increase her abhorrence of the man, -and so bitter were her feelings against him, that she -dared not trust herself to speak, lest she might wound -Marianne still deeper by treating their disengagement, -not as a loss to her of any possible good but as an -escape from the worst and most irremediable of all -evils, a connection, for life, with an unprincipled man, -as a deliverance the most real, a blessing the most important. -In her earnest meditations on the contents of the letter, -on the depravity of that mind which could dictate it, -and probably, on the very different mind of a very different -person, who had no other connection whatever with the affair -than what her heart gave him with every thing that passed, -Elinor forgot the immediate distress of her sister, -forgot that she had three letters on her lap yet unread, -and so entirely forgot how long she had been in the room, -that when on hearing a carriage drive up to the door, -she went to the window to see who could be coming so -unreasonably early, she was all astonishment to perceive -Mrs. Jennings's chariot, which she knew had not been -ordered till one. Determined not to quit Marianne, -though hopeless of contributing, at present, to her ease, -she hurried away to excuse herself from attending -Mrs. Jennings, on account of her sister being indisposed. -Mrs. Jennings, with a thoroughly goodhumoured concern -for its cause, admitted the excuse most readily, and Elinor, -after seeing her safe off, returned to Marianne, whom she -found attempting to rise from the bed, and whom she reached -just in time to prevent her from falling on the floor, -faint and giddy from a long want of proper rest and food -for it was many days since she had any appetite, and many -nights since she had really slept and now, when her -mind was no longer supported by the fever of suspense, -the consequence of all this was felt in an aching head, -a weakened stomach, and a general nervous faintness. -A glass of wine, which Elinor procured for her directly, -made her more comfortable, and she was at last able to express -some sense of her kindness, by saying, -"Poor Elinor how unhappy I make you" -"I only wish," replied her sister, "there were -any thing I COULD do, which might be of comfort to you." -This, as every thing else would have been, -was too much for Marianne, who could only exclaim, -in the anguish of her heart, "Oh Elinor, I am miserable, -indeed," before her voice was entirely lost in sobs. -Elinor could no longer witness this torrent -of unresisted grief in silence. -"Exert yourself, dear Marianne," she cried, -"if you would not kill yourself and all who love you. -Think of your mother think of her misery while YOU suffer -for her sake you must exert yourself." -"I cannot, I cannot," cried Marianne "leave me, -leave me, if I distress you leave me, hate me, forget me -but do not torture me so. Oh how easy for those, -who have no sorrow of their own to talk of exertion Happy, -happy Elinor, YOU cannot have an idea of what I suffer." -"Do you call ME happy, Marianne? Ah if you knewAnd -can you believe me to be so, while I see you so wretched" -"Forgive me, forgive me," throwing her arms round -her sister's neck "I know you feel for me I know what -a heart you have but yet you areyou must be happy -Edward loves youwhat, oh what, can do away such happiness -as that?" -"Many, many circumstances," said Elinor, solemnly. -"No, no, no," cried Marianne wildly, "he loves you, -and only you. You CAN have no grief." -"I can have no pleasure while I see you in this state." -"And you will never see me otherwise. Mine is -a misery which nothing can do away." -"You must not talk so, Marianne. Have you no -comforts? no friends? Is your loss such as leaves -no opening for consolation? Much as you suffer now, -think of what you would have suffered if the discovery -of his character had been delayed to a later period -if your engagement had been carried on for months and months, -as it might have been, before he chose to put an end to it. -Every additional day of unhappy confidence, on your side, -would have made the blow more dreadful." -"Engagement" cried Marianne, "there has been -no engagement." -"No engagement" -"No, he is not so unworthy as you believe him. -He has broken no faith with me." -"But he told you that he loved you." -"Yesnonever absolutely. It was every day implied, -but never professedly declared. Sometimes I thought it -had beenbut it never was." -"Yet you wrote to him?" -"Yescould that be wrong after all that had passed? -But I cannot talk." -Elinor said no more, and turning again to the three -letters which now raised a much stronger curiosity -than before, directly ran over the contents of all. -The first, which was what her sister had sent him -on their arrival in town, was to this effect. -Berkeley Street, January. -"How surprised you will be, Willoughby, on -receiving this and I think you will feel something -more than surprise, when you know that I am in town. -An opportunity of coming hither, though with Mrs. -Jennings, was a temptation we could not resist. -I wish you may receive this in time to come here -tonight, but I will not depend on it. At any rate -I shall expect you tomorrow. For the present, adieu. -"M.D." -Her second note, which had been written on the morning -after the dance at the Middletons', was in these words -"I cannot express my disappointment in having -missed you the day before yesterday, nor my astonishment -at not having received any answer to a note which -I sent you above a week ago. I have been expecting -to hear from you, and still more to see you, every -hour of the day. Pray call again as soon as possible, -and explain the reason of my having expected this -in vain. You had better come earlier another time, -because we are generally out by one. We were last -night at Lady Middleton's, where there was a dance. -I have been told that you were asked to be of the -party. But could it be so? You must be very much -altered indeed since we parted, if that could be -the case, and you not there. But I will not suppose -this possible, and I hope very soon to receive your -personal assurance of its being otherwise. -"M.D." -The contents of her last note to him were these -"What am I to imagine, Willoughby, by your -behaviour last night? Again I demand an explanation -of it. I was prepared to meet you with the pleasure -which our separation naturally produced, with the -familiarity which our intimacy at Barton appeared -to me to justify. I was repulsed indeed I have -passed a wretched night in endeavouring to excuse -a conduct which can scarcely be called less than -insulting but though I have not yet been able to -form any reasonable apology for your behaviour, -I am perfectly ready to hear your justification of -it. You have perhaps been misinformed, or purposely -deceived, in something concerning me, which may have -lowered me in your opinion. Tell me what it is, -explain the grounds on which you acted, and I shall -be satisfied, in being able to satisfy you. It -would grieve me indeed to be obliged to think ill -of you but if I am to do it, if I am to learn that -you are not what we have hitherto believed you, that -your regard for us all was insincere, that your -behaviour to me was intended only to deceive, let -it be told as soon as possible. My feelings are at -present in a state of dreadful indecision I wish -to acquit you, but certainty on either side will be -ease to what I now suffer. If your sentiments are -no longer what they were, you will return my notes, -and the lock of my hair which is in your possession. -"M.D." -That such letters, so full of affection and confidence, -could have been so answered, Elinor, for Willoughby's sake, -would have been unwilling to believe. But her condemnation -of him did not blind her to the impropriety of their -having been written at all and she was silently grieving -over the imprudence which had hazarded such unsolicited -proofs of tenderness, not warranted by anything preceding, -and most severely condemned by the event, when Marianne, -perceiving that she had finished the letters, observed to -her that they contained nothing but what any one would -have written in the same situation. -"I felt myself," she added, "to be as solemnly -engaged to him, as if the strictest legal covenant -had bound us to each other." -"I can believe it," said Elinor "but unfortunately -he did not feel the same." -"He DID feel the same, Elinorfor weeks and weeks he -felt it. I know he did. Whatever may have changed him now, and -nothing but the blackest art employed against me can have done -it, I was once as dear to him as my own soul could wish. -This lock of hair, which now he can so readily give up, -was begged of me with the most earnest supplication. -Had you seen his look, his manner, had you heard his voice -at that moment Have you forgot the last evening of our -being together at Barton? The morning that we parted -too When he told me that it might be many weeks before -we met againhis distresscan I ever forget his distress?" -For a moment or two she could say no more -but when this emotion had passed away, she added, -in a firmer tone, -"Elinor, I have been cruelly used but not by Willoughby." -"Dearest Marianne, who but himself? By whom can he -have been instigated?" -"By all the world, rather than by his own heart. -I could rather believe every creature of my acquaintance -leagued together to ruin me in his opinion, than believe -his nature capable of such cruelty. This woman of whom he -writeswhoever she beor any one, in short, but your own -dear self, mama, and Edward, may have been so barbarous -to bely me. Beyond you three, is there a creature -in the world whom I would not rather suspect of evil -than Willoughby, whose heart I know so well?" -Elinor would not contend, and only replied, -"Whoever may have been so detestably your enemy, let them -be cheated of their malignant triumph, my dear sister, -by seeing how nobly the consciousness of your own -innocence and good intentions supports your spirits. -It is a reasonable and laudable pride which resists -such malevolence." -"No, no," cried Marianne, "misery such as mine has -no pride. I care not who knows that I am wretched. -The triumph of seeing me so may be open to all the world. -Elinor, Elinor, they who suffer little may be proud and -independent as they likemay resist insult, or return -mortificationbut I cannot. I must feelI must be -wretchedand they are welcome to enjoy the consciousness -of it that can." -"But for my mother's sake and mine" -"I would do more than for my own. But to appear -happy when I am so miserableOh who can require it?" -Again they were both silent. Elinor was employed -in walking thoughtfully from the fire to the window, -from the window to the fire, without knowing that she -received warmth from one, or discerning objects through -the other and Marianne, seated at the foot of the bed, -with her head leaning against one of its posts, -again took up Willoughby's letter, and, after shuddering -over every sentence, exclaimed -"It is too much Oh, Willoughby, Willoughby, could this -be yours Cruel, cruelnothing can acquit you. Elinor, -nothing can. Whatever he might have heard against me -ought he not to have suspended his belief? ought he not to -have told me of it, to have given me the power of clearing -myself? 'The lock of hair, repeating it from the letter, -which you so obligingly bestowed on me'That is unpardonable. -Willoughby, where was your heart when you wrote those words? -Oh, barbarously insolentElinor, can he be justified?" -"No, Marianne, in no possible way." -"And yet this womanwho knows what her art may -have been?how long it may have been premeditated, -and how deeply contrived by herWho is she?Who can -she be?Whom did I ever hear him talk of as young and -attractive among his female acquaintance?Oh no one, -no onehe talked to me only of myself." -Another pause ensued Marianne was greatly agitated, -and it ended thus. -"Elinor, I must go home. I must go and comfort mama. -Can not we be gone tomorrow?" -"Tomorrow, Marianne" -"Yes, why should I stay here? I came only for -Willoughby's sakeand now who cares for me? Who regards me?" -"It would be impossible to go tomorrow. We owe -Mrs. Jennings much more than civility and civility of -the commonest kind must prevent such a hasty removal as that." -"Well then, another day or two, perhaps but I cannot -stay here long, I cannot stay to endure the questions -and remarks of all these people. The Middletons and -Palmershow am I to bear their pity? The pity of such -a woman as Lady Middleton Oh, what would HE say to that" -Elinor advised her to lie down again, and for a -moment she did so but no attitude could give her ease -and in restless pain of mind and body she moved from one -posture to another, till growing more and more hysterical, -her sister could with difficulty keep her on the bed at all, -and for some time was fearful of being constrained to call -for assistance. Some lavender drops, however, which she -was at length persuaded to take, were of use and from -that time till Mrs. Jennings returned, she continued -on the bed quiet and motionless. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Jennings came immediately to their room on her return, -and without waiting to have her request of admittance answered, -opened the door and walked in with a look of real concern. -"How do you do my dear?"said she in a voice of great -compassion to Marianne, who turned away her face without -attempting to answer. -"How is she, Miss Dashwood?Poor thing she looks very bad. -No wonder. Ay, it is but too true. He is to be married -very soona goodfornothing fellow I have no patience -with him. Mrs. Taylor told me of it half an hour ago, -and she was told it by a particular friend of Miss -Grey herself, else I am sure I should not have believed it -and I was almost ready to sink as it was. Well, said I, -all I can say is, that if this be true, he has used -a young lady of my acquaintance abominably ill, and I -wish with all my soul his wife may plague his heart out. -And so I shall always say, my dear, you may depend on it. -I have no notion of men's going on in this way and if ever -I meet him again, I will give him such a dressing as he -has not had this many a day. But there is one comfort, -my dear Miss Marianne he is not the only young man -in the world worth having and with your pretty face -you will never want admirers. Well, poor thing I won't -disturb her any longer, for she had better have her cry -out at once and have done with. The Parrys and Sandersons -luckily are coming tonight you know, and that will amuse her." -She then went away, walking on tiptoe out of the room, -as if she supposed her young friend's affliction could -be increased by noise. -Marianne, to the surprise of her sister, -determined on dining with them. Elinor even advised -her against it. But "no, she would go down she could -bear it very well, and the bustle about her would -be less." Elinor, pleased to have her governed for a -moment by such a motive, though believing it hardly -possible that she could sit out the dinner, said no more -and adjusting her dress for her as well as she could, -while Marianne still remained on the bed, was ready -to assist her into the dining room as soon as they were -summoned to it. -When there, though looking most wretchedly, -she ate more and was calmer than her sister had expected. -Had she tried to speak, or had she been conscious of half -Mrs. Jennings's wellmeant but illjudged attentions -to her, this calmness could not have been maintained -but not a syllable escaped her lips and the abstraction -of her thoughts preserved her in ignorance of every thing -that was passing before her. -Elinor, who did justice to Mrs. Jennings's kindness, -though its effusions were often distressing, and sometimes -almost ridiculous, made her those acknowledgments, -and returned her those civilities, which her sister could -not make or return for herself. Their good friend saw -that Marianne was unhappy, and felt that every thing -was due to her which might make her at all less so. -She treated her therefore, with all the indulgent fondness -of a parent towards a favourite child on the last day of -its holidays. Marianne was to have the best place by the fire, -was to be tempted to eat by every delicacy in the house, -and to be amused by the relation of all the news of the day. -Had not Elinor, in the sad countenance of her sister, -seen a check to all mirth, she could have been entertained -by Mrs. Jennings's endeavours to cure a disappointment in love, -by a variety of sweetmeats and olives, and a good fire. -As soon, however, as the consciousness of all this was -forced by continual repetition on Marianne, she could -stay no longer. With a hasty exclamation of Misery, -and a sign to her sister not to follow her, she directly got -up and hurried out of the room. -"Poor soul" cried Mrs. Jennings, as soon as she was gone, -"how it grieves me to see her And I declare if she is -not gone away without finishing her wine And the dried -cherries too Lord nothing seems to do her any good. -I am sure if I knew of any thing she would like, I would -send all over the town for it. Well, it is the oddest -thing to me, that a man should use such a pretty girl -so ill But when there is plenty of money on one side, -and next to none on the other, Lord bless you they care -no more about such things" -"The lady thenMiss Grey I think you called her -is very rich?" -"Fifty thousand pounds, my dear. Did you ever see -her? a smart, stylish girl they say, but not handsome. -I remember her aunt very well, Biddy Henshawe she married -a very wealthy man. But the family are all rich together. -Fifty thousand pounds and by all accounts, it won't come -before it's wanted for they say he is all to pieces. -No wonder dashing about with his curricle and hunters -Well, it don't signify talking but when a young man, -be who he will, comes and makes love to a pretty girl, -and promises marriage, he has no business to fly off -from his word only because he grows poor, and a richer -girl is ready to have him. Why don't he, in such a case, -sell his horses, let his house, turn off his servants, -and make a thorough reform at once? I warrant you, -Miss Marianne would have been ready to wait till matters -came round. But that won't do nowadays nothing in the -way of pleasure can ever be given up by the young men of -this age." -"Do you know what kind of a girl Miss Grey is? -Is she said to be amiable?" -"I never heard any harm of her indeed I hardly ever -heard her mentioned except that Mrs. Taylor did say -this morning, that one day Miss Walker hinted to her, -that she believed Mr. and Mrs. Ellison would not be sorry -to have Miss Grey married, for she and Mrs. Ellison could -never agree." -"And who are the Ellisons?" -"Her guardians, my dear. But now she is of age -and may choose for herself and a pretty choice she has -madeWhat now," after pausing a moment"your poor sister -is gone to her own room, I suppose, to moan by herself. -Is there nothing one can get to comfort her? Poor dear, -it seems quite cruel to let her be alone. Well, byandby we -shall have a few friends, and that will amuse her a little. -What shall we play at? She hates whist I know but is there -no round game she cares for?" -"Dear ma'am, this kindness is quite unnecessary. -Marianne, I dare say, will not leave her room again -this evening. I shall persuade her if I can to go -early to bed, for I am sure she wants rest." -"Aye, I believe that will be best for her. Let her name -her own supper, and go to bed. Lord no wonder she has -been looking so bad and so cast down this last week or two, -for this matter I suppose has been hanging over her head as -long as that. And so the letter that came today finished it -Poor soul I am sure if I had had a notion of it, -I would not have joked her about it for all my money. -But then you know, how should I guess such a thing? I made -sure of its being nothing but a common love letter, and -you know young people like to be laughed at about them. Lord -how concerned Sir John and my daughters will be when they -hear it If I had my senses about me I might have called -in Conduit Street in my way home, and told them of it. -But I shall see them tomorrow." -"It would be unnecessary I am sure, for you to caution -Mrs. Palmer and Sir John against ever naming Mr. Willoughby, -or making the slightest allusion to what has passed, -before my sister. Their own goodnature must point out -to them the real cruelty of appearing to know any thing -about it when she is present and the less that may ever -be said to myself on the subject, the more my feelings -will be spared, as you my dear madam will easily believe." -"Oh Lord yes, that I do indeed. It must be terrible -for you to hear it talked of and as for your sister, -I am sure I would not mention a word about it to her -for the world. You saw I did not all dinner time. -No more would Sir John, nor my daughters, for they are -all very thoughtful and considerate especially if I -give them a hint, as I certainly will. For my part, -I think the less that is said about such things, the better, -the sooner 'tis blown over and forgot. And what does -talking ever do you know?" -"In this affair it can only do harm more so -perhaps than in many cases of a similar kind, for it -has been attended by circumstances which, for the sake -of every one concerned in it, make it unfit to become -the public conversation. I must do THIS justice to -Mr. Willoughbyhe has broken no positive engagement -with my sister." -"Law, my dear Don't pretend to defend him. -No positive engagement indeed after taking her all -over Allenham House, and fixing on the very rooms they -were to live in hereafter" -Elinor, for her sister's sake, could not press the -subject farther, and she hoped it was not required of her -for Willoughby's since, though Marianne might lose much, -he could gain very little by the enforcement of the real truth. -After a short silence on both sides, Mrs. Jennings, -with all her natural hilarity, burst forth again. -"Well, my dear, 'tis a true saying about an illwind, -for it will be all the better for Colonel Brandon. -He will have her at last aye, that he will. Mind me, -now, if they an't married by Midsummer. Lord how he'll -chuckle over this news I hope he will come tonight. -It will be all to one a better match for your sister. -Two thousand a year without debt or drawbackexcept -the little lovechild, indeed aye, I had forgot her -but she may be 'prenticed out at a small cost, and then -what does it signify? Delaford is a nice place, I can -tell you exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, -full of comforts and conveniences quite shut in with great -garden walls that are covered with the best fruittrees -in the country and such a mulberry tree in one corner -Lord how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we -were there Then, there is a dovecote, some delightful -stewponds, and a very pretty canal and every thing, -in short, that one could wish for and, moreover, it is -close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile from -the turnpikeroad, so 'tis never dull, for if you only -go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house, -you may see all the carriages that pass along. -Oh 'tis a nice place A butcher hard by in the village, -and the parsonagehouse within a stone's throw. -To my fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, -where they are forced to send three miles for their meat, -and have not a neighbour nearer than your mother. -Well, I shall spirit up the Colonel as soon as I can. -One shoulder of mutton, you know, drives another down. -If we CAN but put Willoughby out of her head" -"Ay, if we can do THAT, Ma'am," said Elinor, -"we shall do very well with or without Colonel Brandon." -And then rising, she went away to join Marianne, -whom she found, as she expected, in her own room, leaning, -in silent misery, over the small remains of a fire, -which, till Elinor's entrance, had been her only light. -"You had better leave me," was all the notice -that her sister received from her. -"I will leave you," said Elinor, "if you will go -to bed." But this, from the momentary perverseness -of impatient suffering, she at first refused to do. -Her sister's earnest, though gentle persuasion, however, -soon softened her to compliance, and Elinor saw her -lay her aching head on the pillow, and as she hoped, -in a way to get some quiet rest before she left her. -In the drawingroom, whither she then repaired, -she was soon joined by Mrs. Jennings, with a wineglass, -full of something, in her hand. -"My dear," said she, entering, "I have just recollected -that I have some of the finest old Constantia wine in the -house that ever was tasted, so I have brought a glass of it -for your sister. My poor husband how fond he was of it -Whenever he had a touch of his old colicky gout, he said -it did him more good than any thing else in the world. -Do take it to your sister." -"Dear Ma'am," replied Elinor, smiling at the difference -of the complaints for which it was recommended, "how good -you are But I have just left Marianne in bed, and, I hope, -almost asleep and as I think nothing will be of so much -service to her as rest, if you will give me leave, -I will drink the wine myself." -Mrs. Jennings, though regretting that she had not been -five minutes earlier, was satisfied with the compromise -and Elinor, as she swallowed the chief of it, reflected, -that though its effects on a colicky gout were, at present, -of little importance to her, its healing powers, -on a disappointed heart might be as reasonably tried -on herself as on her sister. -Colonel Brandon came in while the party were at tea, -and by his manner of looking round the room for Marianne, -Elinor immediately fancied that he neither expected -nor wished to see her there, and, in short, that he -was already aware of what occasioned her absence. -Mrs. Jennings was not struck by the same thought -for soon after his entrance, she walked across the room -to the teatable where Elinor presided, and whispered -"The Colonel looks as grave as ever you see. He knows -nothing of it do tell him, my dear." -He shortly afterwards drew a chair close to her's, -and, with a look which perfectly assured her of his -good information, inquired after her sister. -"Marianne is not well," said she. "She has been -indisposed all day, and we have persuaded her to go to bed." -"Perhaps, then," he hesitatingly replied, "what I -heard this morning may bethere may be more truth in it -than I could believe possible at first." -"What did you hear?" -"That a gentleman, whom I had reason to thinkin short, -that a man, whom I KNEW to be engagedbut how shall I -tell you? If you know it already, as surely you must, -I may be spared." -"You mean," answered Elinor, with forced calmness, -"Mr. Willoughby's marriage with Miss Grey. Yes, we DO -know it all. This seems to have been a day of general -elucidation, for this very morning first unfolded it to us. -Mr. Willoughby is unfathomable Where did you hear it?" -"In a stationer's shop in Pall Mall, where I -had business. Two ladies were waiting for their carriage, -and one of them was giving the other an account of the -intended match, in a voice so little attempting concealment, -that it was impossible for me not to hear all. The name -of Willoughby, John Willoughby, frequently repeated, -first caught my attention and what followed was a positive -assertion that every thing was now finally settled -respecting his marriage with Miss Greyit was no longer -to be a secretit would take place even within a few weeks, -with many particulars of preparations and other matters. -One thing, especially, I remember, because it served -to identify the man still moreas soon as the ceremony -was over, they were to go to Combe Magna, his seat -in Somersetshire. My astonishmentbut it would be -impossible to describe what I felt. The communicative -lady I learnt, on inquiry, for I stayed in the shop -till they were gone, was a Mrs. Ellison, and that, as I -have been since informed, is the name of Miss Grey's guardian." -"It is. But have you likewise heard that Miss Grey -has fifty thousand pounds? In that, if in any thing, -we may find an explanation." -"It may be so but Willoughby is capableat least -I think"he stopped a moment then added in a voice -which seemed to distrust itself, "And your sister -how did she" -"Her sufferings have been very severe. I have -only to hope that they may be proportionately short. -It has been, it is a most cruel affliction. Till yesterday, -I believe, she never doubted his regard and even now, -perhapsbut I am almost convinced that he never was -really attached to her. He has been very deceitful and, -in some points, there seems a hardness of heart about him." -"Ah" said Colonel Brandon, "there is, indeed But -your sister does notI think you said soshe does -not consider quite as you do?" -"You know her disposition, and may believe how eagerly -she would still justify him if she could." -He made no answer and soon afterwards, by the removal -of the teathings, and the arrangement of the card parties, -the subject was necessarily dropped. Mrs. Jennings, who had -watched them with pleasure while they were talking, and who -expected to see the effect of Miss Dashwood's communication, -in such an instantaneous gaiety on Colonel Brandon's side, -as might have become a man in the bloom of youth, of hope -and happiness, saw him, with amazement, remain the whole -evening more serious and thoughtful than usual. -CHAPTER -From a night of more sleep than she had expected, -Marianne awoke the next morning to the same consciousness -of misery in which she had closed her eyes. -Elinor encouraged her as much as possible to talk -of what she felt and before breakfast was ready, they had -gone through the subject again and again and with the same -steady conviction and affectionate counsel on Elinor's side, -the same impetuous feelings and varying opinions on -Marianne's, as before. Sometimes she could believe -Willoughby to be as unfortunate and as innocent as herself, -and at others, lost every consolation in the impossibility -of acquitting him. At one moment she was absolutely -indifferent to the observation of all the world, at another -she would seclude herself from it for ever, and at a third -could resist it with energy. In one thing, however, -she was uniform, when it came to the point, in avoiding, -where it was possible, the presence of Mrs. Jennings, -and in a determined silence when obliged to endure it. -Her heart was hardened against the belief of Mrs. Jennings's -entering into her sorrows with any compassion. -"No, no, no, it cannot be," she cried -"she cannot feel. Her kindness is not sympathy -her goodnature is not tenderness. All that she wants -is gossip, and she only likes me now because I supply it." -Elinor had not needed this to be assured of the injustice -to which her sister was often led in her opinion of others, -by the irritable refinement of her own mind, and the too -great importance placed by her on the delicacies of a -strong sensibility, and the graces of a polished manner. -Like half the rest of the world, if more than half there -be that are clever and good, Marianne, with excellent -abilities and an excellent disposition, was neither -reasonable nor candid. She expected from other people -the same opinions and feelings as her own, and she judged -of their motives by the immediate effect of their actions -on herself. Thus a circumstance occurred, while the -sisters were together in their own room after breakfast, -which sunk the heart of Mrs. Jennings still lower -in her estimation because, through her own weakness, -it chanced to prove a source of fresh pain to herself, -though Mrs. Jennings was governed in it by an impulse -of the utmost goodwill. -With a letter in her outstretched hand, and countenance -gaily smiling, from the persuasion of bringing comfort, -she entered their room, saying, -"Now, my dear, I bring you something that I am sure -will do you good." -Marianne heard enough. In one moment her imagination -placed before her a letter from Willoughby, full of tenderness -and contrition, explanatory of all that had passed, satisfactory, -convincing and instantly followed by Willoughby himself, -rushing eagerly into the room to inforce, at her feet, -by the eloquence of his eyes, the assurances of his letter. -The work of one moment was destroyed by the next. -The hand writing of her mother, never till then unwelcome, -was before her and, in the acuteness of the disappointment -which followed such an ecstasy of more than hope, -she felt as if, till that instant, she had never suffered. -The cruelty of Mrs. Jennings no language, within -her reach in her moments of happiest eloquence, -could have expressed and now she could reproach her -only by the tears which streamed from her eyes with -passionate violencea reproach, however, so entirely -lost on its object, that after many expressions of pity, -she withdrew, still referring her to the letter of comfort. -But the letter, when she was calm enough to read it, -brought little comfort. Willoughby filled every page. -Her mother, still confident of their engagement, and relying -as warmly as ever on his constancy, had only been roused -by Elinor's application, to intreat from Marianne greater -openness towards them both and this, with such tenderness -towards her, such affection for Willoughby, and such -a conviction of their future happiness in each other, -that she wept with agony through the whole of it. -All her impatience to be at home again now returned -her mother was dearer to her than ever dearer through -the very excess of her mistaken confidence in Willoughby, -and she was wildly urgent to be gone. Elinor, unable herself -to determine whether it were better for Marianne to be -in London or at Barton, offered no counsel of her own -except of patience till their mother's wishes could be known -and at length she obtained her sister's consent to wait -for that knowledge. -Mrs. Jennings left them earlier than usual for she -could not be easy till the Middletons and Palmers were able -to grieve as much as herself and positively refusing -Elinor's offered attendance, went out alone for the rest -of the morning. Elinor, with a very heavy heart, aware of -the pain she was going to communicate, and perceiving, -by Marianne's letter, how ill she had succeeded in laying -any foundation for it, then sat down to write her mother -an account of what had passed, and entreat her directions -for the future while Marianne, who came into the drawingroom -on Mrs. Jennings's going away, remained fixed at the table -where Elinor wrote, watching the advancement of her pen, -grieving over her for the hardship of such a task, -and grieving still more fondly over its effect on her mother. -In this manner they had continued about a quarter -of an hour, when Marianne, whose nerves could not then -bear any sudden noise, was startled by a rap at the door. -"Who can this be?" cried Elinor. "So early too I -thought we HAD been safe." -Marianne moved to the window -"It is Colonel Brandon" said she, with vexation. -"We are never safe from HIM." -"He will not come in, as Mrs. Jennings is from home." -"I will not trust to THAT," retreating to her own room. -"A man who has nothing to do with his own time has no -conscience in his intrusion on that of others." -The event proved her conjecture right, though it -was founded on injustice and error for Colonel Brandon -DID come in and Elinor, who was convinced that -solicitude for Marianne brought him thither, and who saw -THAT solicitude in his disturbed and melancholy look, -and in his anxious though brief inquiry after her, -could not forgive her sister for esteeming him so lightly. -"I met Mrs. Jennings in Bond Street," said he, -after the first salutation, "and she encouraged me -to come on and I was the more easily encouraged, -because I thought it probable that I might find you alone, -which I was very desirous of doing. My objectmy -wishmy sole wish in desiring itI hope, I believe -it isis to be a means of giving comfortno, I must -not say comfortnot present comfortbut conviction, -lasting conviction to your sister's mind. My regard for her, -for yourself, for your motherwill you allow me to prove it, -by relating some circumstances which nothing but a VERY -sincere regardnothing but an earnest desire of being -usefulI think I am justifiedthough where so many hours -have been spent in convincing myself that I am right, -is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?" -He stopped. -"I understand you," said Elinor. "You have something -to tell me of Mr. Willoughby, that will open his character -farther. Your telling it will be the greatest act of friendship -that can be shewn Marianne. MY gratitude will be insured -immediately by any information tending to that end, and HERS -must be gained by it in time. Pray, pray let me hear it." -"You shall and, to be brief, when I quitted Barton -last October,but this will give you no ideaI must go -farther back. You will find me a very awkward narrator, -Miss Dashwood I hardly know where to begin. A short -account of myself, I believe, will be necessary, and it -SHALL be a short one. On such a subject," sighing heavily, -"can I have little temptation to be diffuse." -He stopt a moment for recollection, and then, -with another sigh, went on. -"You have probably entirely forgotten a conversation -it is not to be supposed that it could make any impression -on youa conversation between us one evening at Barton -Parkit was the evening of a dancein which I alluded -to a lady I had once known, as resembling, in some measure, -your sister Marianne." -"Indeed," answered Elinor, "I have NOT forgotten it." -He looked pleased by this remembrance, and added, -"If I am not deceived by the uncertainty, the partiality -of tender recollection, there is a very strong resemblance -between them, as well in mind as person. The same warmth -of heart, the same eagerness of fancy and spirits. -This lady was one of my nearest relations, an orphan from -her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father. -Our ages were nearly the same, and from our earliest years -we were playfellows and friends. I cannot remember the -time when I did not love Eliza and my affection for her, -as we grew up, was such, as perhaps, judging from my -present forlorn and cheerless gravity, you might think me -incapable of having ever felt. Her's, for me, was, I believe, -fervent as the attachment of your sister to Mr. Willoughby -and it was, though from a different cause, no less unfortunate. -At seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was -marriedmarried against her inclination to my brother. -Her fortune was large, and our family estate much encumbered. -And this, I fear, is all that can be said for the -conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. -My brother did not deserve her he did not even love her. -I had hoped that her regard for me would support her -under any difficulty, and for some time it did but at -last the misery of her situation, for she experienced -great unkindness, overcame all her resolution, and though -she had promised me that nothingbut how blindly I -relate I have never told you how this was brought on. -We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. -The treachery, or the folly, of my cousin's maid betrayed us. -I was banished to the house of a relation far distant, -and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, -till my father's point was gained. I had depended on her -fortitude too far, and the blow was a severe one -but had her marriage been happy, so young as I then was, -a few months must have reconciled me to it, or at least -I should not have now to lament it. This however -was not the case. My brother had no regard for her -his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, -and from the first he treated her unkindly. The consequence -of this, upon a mind so young, so lively, so inexperienced -as Mrs. Brandon's, was but too natural. She resigned -herself at first to all the misery of her situation -and happy had it been if she had not lived to overcome those -regrets which the remembrance of me occasioned. But can we -wonder that, with such a husband to provoke inconstancy, -and without a friend to advise or restrain her for -my father lived only a few months after their marriage, -and I was with my regiment in the East Indies she -should fall? Had I remained in England, perhapsbut I -meant to promote the happiness of both by removing -from her for years, and for that purpose had procured -my exchange. The shock which her marriage had given me," -he continued, in a voice of great agitation, "was of -trifling weightwas nothing to what I felt when I heard, -about two years afterwards, of her divorce. It was -THAT which threw this gloom,even now the recollection -of what I suffered" -He could say no more, and rising hastily walked for a few -minutes about the room. Elinor, affected by his relation, -and still more by his distress, could not speak. He saw -her concern, and coming to her, took her hand, pressed it, -and kissed it with grateful respect. A few minutes more -of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure. -"It was nearly three years after this unhappy -period before I returned to England. My first care, -when I DID arrive, was of course to seek for her -but the search was as fruitless as it was melancholy. -I could not trace her beyond her first seducer, and there -was every reason to fear that she had removed from him -only to sink deeper in a life of sin. Her legal allowance -was not adequate to her fortune, nor sufficient for her -comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my brother that -the power of receiving it had been made over some months -before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he -imagine it, that her extravagance, and consequent distress, -had obliged her to dispose of it for some immediate relief. -At last, however, and after I had been six months in England, -I DID find her. Regard for a former servant of my own, -who had since fallen into misfortune, carried me to visit -him in a spunginghouse, where he was confined for debt -and there, the same house, under a similar confinement, -was my unfortunate sister. So alteredso fadedworn -down by acute suffering of every kind hardly could I -believe the melancholy and sickly figure before me, -to be the remains of the lovely, blooming, healthful girl, -on whom I had once doted. What I endured in so beholding -herbut I have no right to wound your feelings by attempting -to describe itI have pained you too much already. -That she was, to all appearance, in the last stage -of a consumption, wasyes, in such a situation it was -my greatest comfort. Life could do nothing for her, -beyond giving time for a better preparation for death -and that was given. I saw her placed in comfortable lodgings, -and under proper attendants I visited her every day -during the rest of her short life I was with her in her -last moments." -Again he stopped to recover himself and Elinor -spoke her feelings in an exclamation of tender concern, -at the fate of his unfortunate friend. -"Your sister, I hope, cannot be offended," said he, -"by the resemblance I have fancied between her and my -poor disgraced relation. Their fates, their fortunes, -cannot be the same and had the natural sweet -disposition of the one been guarded by a firmer mind, -or a happier marriage, she might have been all that you -will live to see the other be. But to what does all this -lead? I seem to have been distressing you for nothing. -Ah Miss Dashwooda subject such as thisuntouched -for fourteen yearsit is dangerous to handle it at all -I WILL be more collectedmore concise. She left to my care -her only child, a little girl, the offspring of her first -guilty connection, who was then about three years old. -She loved the child, and had always kept it with her. -It was a valued, a precious trust to me and gladly -would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, -by watching over her education myself, had the nature -of our situations allowed it but I had no family, no home -and my little Eliza was therefore placed at school. -I saw her there whenever I could, and after the death of my -brother, which happened about five years ago, and which -left to me the possession of the family property, she -visited me at Delaford. I called her a distant relation -but I am well aware that I have in general been suspected -of a much nearer connection with her. It is now three -years ago she had just reached her fourteenth year, -that I removed her from school, to place her under the care -of a very respectable woman, residing in Dorsetshire, -who had the charge of four or five other girls of about -the same time of life and for two years I had every reason -to be pleased with her situation. But last February, -almost a twelvemonth back, she suddenly disappeared. -I had allowed her, imprudently, as it has since turned -out, at her earnest desire, to go to Bath with one of -her young friends, who was attending her father there -for his health. I knew him to be a very good sort of man, -and I thought well of his daughterbetter than she deserved, -for, with a most obstinate and illjudged secrecy, -she would tell nothing, would give no clue, though she -certainly knew all. He, her father, a wellmeaning, -but not a quicksighted man, could really, I believe, -give no information for he had been generally confined -to the house, while the girls were ranging over the town -and making what acquaintance they chose and he tried -to convince me, as thoroughly as he was convinced himself, -of his daughter's being entirely unconcerned in the business. -In short, I could learn nothing but that she was gone -all the rest, for eight long months, was left to conjecture. -What I thought, what I feared, may be imagined and what I -suffered too." -"Good heavens" cried Elinor, "could it becould -Willoughby" -"The first news that reached me of her," he continued, -"came in a letter from herself, last October. -It was forwarded to me from Delaford, and I received it -on the very morning of our intended party to Whitwell -and this was the reason of my leaving Barton so suddenly, -which I am sure must at the time have appeared strange -to every body, and which I believe gave offence to some. -Little did Mr. Willoughby imagine, I suppose, when his -looks censured me for incivility in breaking up the party, -that I was called away to the relief of one whom he -had made poor and miserable but HAD he known it, -what would it have availed? Would he have been less -gay or less happy in the smiles of your sister? No, -he had already done that, which no man who CAN feel -for another would do. He had left the girl whose -youth and innocence he had seduced, in a situation of -the utmost distress, with no creditable home, no help, -no friends, ignorant of his address He had left her, -promising to return he neither returned, nor wrote, -nor relieved her." -"This is beyond every thing" exclaimed Elinor. -"His character is now before you expensive, dissipated, -and worse than both. Knowing all this, as I have now -known it many weeks, guess what I must have felt on seeing -your sister as fond of him as ever, and on being assured -that she was to marry him guess what I must have felt -for all your sakes. When I came to you last week and -found you alone, I came determined to know the truth -though irresolute what to do when it WAS known. -My behaviour must have seemed strange to you then -but now you will comprehend it. To suffer you all to be -so deceived to see your sisterbut what could I do? -I had no hope of interfering with success and sometimes -I thought your sister's influence might yet reclaim him. -But now, after such dishonorable usage, who can tell what -were his designs on her. Whatever they may have been, -however, she may now, and hereafter doubtless WILL -turn with gratitude towards her own condition, when she -compares it with that of my poor Eliza, when she considers -the wretched and hopeless situation of this poor girl, -and pictures her to herself, with an affection for him so strong, -still as strong as her own, and with a mind tormented -by selfreproach, which must attend her through life. -Surely this comparison must have its use with her. -She will feel her own sufferings to be nothing. They -proceed from no misconduct, and can bring no disgrace. -On the contrary, every friend must be made still more -her friend by them. Concern for her unhappiness, -and respect for her fortitude under it, must strengthen -every attachment. Use your own discretion, however, -in communicating to her what I have told you. You must -know best what will be its effect but had I not seriously, -and from my heart believed it might be of service, -might lessen her regrets, I would not have suffered -myself to trouble you with this account of my family -afflictions, with a recital which may seem to have been -intended to raise myself at the expense of others." -Elinor's thanks followed this speech with grateful -earnestness attended too with the assurance of her -expecting material advantage to Marianne, from the -communication of what had passed. -"I have been more pained," said she, "by her -endeavors to acquit him than by all the rest for it -irritates her mind more than the most perfect conviction -of his unworthiness can do. Now, though at first she -will suffer much, I am sure she will soon become easier. -Have you," she continued, after a short silence, -"ever seen Mr. Willoughby since you left him at Barton?" -"Yes," he replied gravely, "once I have. One meeting -was unavoidable." -Elinor, startled by his manner, looked at him anxiously, -saying, -"What? have you met him to" -"I could meet him no other way. Eliza had confessed -to me, though most reluctantly, the name of her lover -and when he returned to town, which was within a fortnight -after myself, we met by appointment, he to defend, -I to punish his conduct. We returned unwounded, -and the meeting, therefore, never got abroad." -Elinor sighed over the fancied necessity of this -but to a man and a soldier she presumed not to censure it. -"Such," said Colonel Brandon, after a pause, -"has been the unhappy resemblance between the fate of mother -and daughter and so imperfectly have I discharged my trust" -"Is she still in town?" -"No as soon as she recovered from her lyingin, -for I found her near her delivery, I removed her and her -child into the country, and there she remains." -Recollecting, soon afterwards, that he was probably -dividing Elinor from her sister, he put an end to his visit, -receiving from her again the same grateful acknowledgments, -and leaving her full of compassion and esteem for him. -CHAPTER -When the particulars of this conversation were repeated -by Miss Dashwood to her sister, as they very soon were, -the effect on her was not entirely such as the former -had hoped to see. Not that Marianne appeared to distrust -the truth of any part of it, for she listened to it all -with the most steady and submissive attention, made neither -objection nor remark, attempted no vindication of Willoughby, -and seemed to shew by her tears that she felt it to -be impossible. But though this behaviour assured Elinor -that the conviction of this guilt WAS carried home to -her mind, though she saw with satisfaction the effect of it, -in her no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he called, -in her speaking to him, even voluntarily speaking, -with a kind of compassionate respect, and though she -saw her spirits less violently irritated than before, -she did not see her less wretched. Her mind did become -settled, but it was settled in a gloomy dejection. -She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more heavily -than she had felt the loss of his heart his seduction and -desertion of Miss Williams, the misery of that poor girl, -and the doubt of what his designs might ONCE have been -on herself, preyed altogether so much on her spirits, -that she could not bring herself to speak of what she felt -even to Elinor and, brooding over her sorrows in silence, -gave more pain to her sister than could have been communicated -by the most open and most frequent confession of them. -To give the feelings or the language of Mrs. Dashwood -on receiving and answering Elinor's letter would be only -to give a repetition of what her daughters had already felt -and said of a disappointment hardly less painful than -Marianne's, and an indignation even greater than Elinor's. -Long letters from her, quickly succeeding each other, -arrived to tell all that she suffered and thought -to express her anxious solicitude for Marianne, and entreat -she would bear up with fortitude under this misfortune. -Bad indeed must the nature of Marianne's affliction be, -when her mother could talk of fortitude mortifying -and humiliating must be the origin of those regrets, -which SHE could wish her not to indulge -Against the interest of her own individual comfort, -Mrs. Dashwood had determined that it would be better for -Marianne to be any where, at that time, than at Barton, -where every thing within her view would be bringing back -the past in the strongest and most afflicting manner, -by constantly placing Willoughby before her, such as -she had always seen him there. She recommended it to -her daughters, therefore, by all means not to shorten their -visit to Mrs. Jennings the length of which, though never -exactly fixed, had been expected by all to comprise at least -five or six weeks. A variety of occupations, of objects, -and of company, which could not be procured at Barton, -would be inevitable there, and might yet, she hoped, -cheat Marianne, at times, into some interest beyond herself, -and even into some amusement, much as the ideas of both -might now be spurned by her. -From all danger of seeing Willoughby again, -her mother considered her to be at least equally safe -in town as in the country, since his acquaintance must -now be dropped by all who called themselves her friends. -Design could never bring them in each other's way -negligence could never leave them exposed to a surprise -and chance had less in its favour in the crowd of London -than even in the retirement of Barton, where it might -force him before her while paying that visit at Allenham -on his marriage, which Mrs. Dashwood, from foreseeing at -first as a probable event, had brought herself to expect -as a certain one. -She had yet another reason for wishing her children -to remain where they were a letter from her soninlaw -had told her that he and his wife were to be in town -before the middle of February, and she judged it right -that they should sometimes see their brother. -Marianne had promised to be guided by her mother's opinion, -and she submitted to it therefore without opposition, -though it proved perfectly different from what she wished -and expected, though she felt it to be entirely wrong, -formed on mistaken grounds, and that by requiring her -longer continuance in London it deprived her of the only -possible alleviation of her wretchedness, the personal -sympathy of her mother, and doomed her to such society and -such scenes as must prevent her ever knowing a moment's rest. -But it was a matter of great consolation to her, -that what brought evil to herself would bring good to -her sister and Elinor, on the other hand, suspecting that -it would not be in her power to avoid Edward entirely, -comforted herself by thinking, that though their longer -stay would therefore militate against her own happiness, -it would be better for Marianne than an immediate return -into Devonshire. -Her carefulness in guarding her sister from ever -hearing Willoughby's name mentioned, was not thrown away. -Marianne, though without knowing it herself, reaped all -its advantage for neither Mrs. Jennings, nor Sir John, -nor even Mrs. Palmer herself, ever spoke of him before her. -Elinor wished that the same forbearance could have extended -towards herself, but that was impossible, and she was -obliged to listen day after day to the indignation of them all. -Sir John, could not have thought it possible. -"A man of whom he had always had such reason to think well -Such a goodnatured fellow He did not believe there was a -bolder rider in England It was an unaccountable business. -He wished him at the devil with all his heart. He would -not speak another word to him, meet him where he might, -for all the world No, not if it were to be by the side -of Barton covert, and they were kept watching for two -hours together. Such a scoundrel of a fellow such -a deceitful dog It was only the last time they met -that he had offered him one of Folly's puppies and this -was the end of it" -Mrs. Palmer, in her way, was equally angry. -"She was determined to drop his acquaintance immediately, -and she was very thankful that she had never been acquainted -with him at all. She wished with all her heart Combe -Magna was not so near Cleveland but it did not signify, -for it was a great deal too far off to visit she hated -him so much that she was resolved never to mention -his name again, and she should tell everybody she saw, -how goodfornothing he was." -The rest of Mrs. Palmer's sympathy was shewn in procuring -all the particulars in her power of the approaching marriage, -and communicating them to Elinor. She could soon tell -at what coachmaker's the new carriage was building, -by what painter Mr. Willoughby's portrait was drawn, -and at what warehouse Miss Grey's clothes might be seen. -The calm and polite unconcern of Lady Middleton -on the occasion was a happy relief to Elinor's spirits, -oppressed as they often were by the clamorous kindness -of the others. It was a great comfort to her to be sure -of exciting no interest in ONE person at least among their -circle of friends a great comfort to know that there -was ONE who would meet her without feeling any curiosity -after particulars, or any anxiety for her sister's health. -Every qualification is raised at times, by the -circumstances of the moment, to more than its real value -and she was sometimes worried down by officious condolence -to rate goodbreeding as more indispensable to comfort -than goodnature. -Lady Middleton expressed her sense of the affair -about once every day, or twice, if the subject occurred -very often, by saying, "It is very shocking, indeed" -and by the means of this continual though gentle vent, -was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods from the -first without the smallest emotion, but very soon -to see them without recollecting a word of the matter -and having thus supported the dignity of her own sex, -and spoken her decided censure of what was wrong -in the other, she thought herself at liberty to attend -to the interest of her own assemblies, and therefore -determined though rather against the opinion of Sir John -that as Mrs. Willoughby would at once be a woman of elegance -and fortune, to leave her card with her as soon as she married. -Colonel Brandon's delicate, unobtrusive enquiries -were never unwelcome to Miss Dashwood. He had abundantly -earned the privilege of intimate discussion of her -sister's disappointment, by the friendly zeal with -which he had endeavoured to soften it, and they always -conversed with confidence. His chief reward for the -painful exertion of disclosing past sorrows and present -humiliations, was given in the pitying eye with which -Marianne sometimes observed him, and the gentleness -of her voice whenever though it did not often happen -she was obliged, or could oblige herself to speak to him. -THESE assured him that his exertion had produced an -increase of goodwill towards himself, and THESE gave -Elinor hopes of its being farther augmented hereafter -but Mrs. Jennings, who knew nothing of all this, who knew -only that the Colonel continued as grave as ever, and that -she could neither prevail on him to make the offer himself, -nor commission her to make it for him, began, at the -end of two days, to think that, instead of Midsummer, -they would not be married till Michaelmas, and by the -end of a week that it would not be a match at all. -The good understanding between the Colonel and Miss -Dashwood seemed rather to declare that the honours -of the mulberrytree, the canal, and the yew arbour, -would all be made over to HER and Mrs. Jennings had, -for some time ceased to think at all of Mrs. Ferrars. -Early in February, within a fortnight from the -receipt of Willoughby's letter, Elinor had the painful -office of informing her sister that he was married. -She had taken care to have the intelligence conveyed -to herself, as soon as it was known that the ceremony -was over, as she was desirous that Marianne should not -receive the first notice of it from the public papers, -which she saw her eagerly examining every morning. -She received the news with resolute composure -made no observation on it, and at first shed no tears -but after a short time they would burst out, and for the -rest of the day, she was in a state hardly less pitiable -than when she first learnt to expect the event. -The Willoughbys left town as soon as they were married -and Elinor now hoped, as there could be no danger -of her seeing either of them, to prevail on her sister, -who had never yet left the house since the blow first fell, -to go out again by degrees as she had done before. -About this time the two Miss Steeles, lately arrived -at their cousin's house in Bartlett's Buildings, -Holburn, presented themselves again before their more -grand relations in Conduit and Berkeley Streets -and were welcomed by them all with great cordiality. -Elinor only was sorry to see them. Their presence -always gave her pain, and she hardly knew how to make -a very gracious return to the overpowering delight of Lucy -in finding her STILL in town. -"I should have been quite disappointed if I had not -found you here STILL," said she repeatedly, with a strong -emphasis on the word. "But I always thought I SHOULD. -I was almost sure you would not leave London yet awhile -though you TOLD me, you know, at Barton, that you should -not stay above a MONTH. But I thought, at the time, -that you would most likely change your mind when it came -to the point. It would have been such a great pity -to have went away before your brother and sister came. -And now to be sure you will be in no hurry to be gone. -I am amazingly glad you did not keep to YOUR WORD." -Elinor perfectly understood her, and was forced -to use all her selfcommand to make it appear that she -did NOT. -"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did -you travel?" -"Not in the stage, I assure you," replied Miss Steele, -with quick exultation "we came post all the way, and had -a very smart beau to attend us. Dr. Davies was coming -to town, and so we thought we'd join him in a postchaise -and he behaved very genteelly, and paid ten or twelve -shillings more than we did." -"Oh, oh" cried Mrs. Jennings "very pretty, -indeed and the Doctor is a single man, I warrant you." -"There now," said Miss Steele, affectedly simpering, -"everybody laughs at me so about the Doctor, and I -cannot think why. My cousins say they are sure I have -made a conquest but for my part I declare I never think -about him from one hour's end to another. 'Lord here -comes your beau, Nancy,' my cousin said t'other day, -when she saw him crossing the street to the house. -My beau, indeed said II cannot think who you mean. -The Doctor is no beau of mine." -"Aye, aye, that is very pretty talkingbut it won't do -the Doctor is the man, I see." -"No, indeed" replied her cousin, with affected earnestness, -"and I beg you will contradict it, if you ever hear it talked -of." -Mrs. Jennings directly gave her the gratifying -assurance that she certainly would NOT, and Miss Steele -was made completely happy. -"I suppose you will go and stay with your brother -and sister, Miss Dashwood, when they come to town," -said Lucy, returning, after a cessation of hostile hints, -to the charge. -"No, I do not think we shall." -"Oh, yes, I dare say you will." -Elinor would not humour her by farther opposition. -"What a charming thing it is that Mrs. Dashwood can -spare you both for so long a time together" -"Long a time, indeed" interposed Mrs. Jennings. -"Why, their visit is but just begun" -Lucy was silenced. -"I am sorry we cannot see your sister, Miss Dashwood," -said Miss Steele. "I am sorry she is not well" -for Marianne had left the room on their arrival. -"You are very good. My sister will be equally -sorry to miss the pleasure of seeing you but she has -been very much plagued lately with nervous headaches, -which make her unfit for company or conversation." -"Oh, dear, that is a great pity but such old -friends as Lucy and meI think she might see US -and I am sure we would not speak a word." -Elinor, with great civility, declined the proposal. -Her sister was perhaps laid down upon the bed, or in her -dressing gown, and therefore not able to come to them. -"Oh, if that's all," cried Miss Steele, "we can -just as well go and see HER." -Elinor began to find this impertinence too much for -her temper but she was saved the trouble of checking it, -by Lucy's sharp reprimand, which now, as on many occasions, -though it did not give much sweetness to the manners -of one sister, was of advantage in governing those of -the other. -CHAPTER -After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her -sister's entreaties, and consented to go out with her -and Mrs. Jennings one morning for half an hour. She -expressly conditioned, however, for paying no visits, -and would do no more than accompany them to Gray's in -Sackville Street, where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation -for the exchange of a few oldfashioned jewels of her mother. -When they stopped at the door, Mrs. Jennings recollected -that there was a lady at the other end of the street -on whom she ought to call and as she had no business -at Gray's, it was resolved, that while her young friends -transacted their's, she should pay her visit and -return for them. -On ascending the stairs, the Miss Dashwoods found -so many people before them in the room, that there was -not a person at liberty to tend to their orders and they -were obliged to wait. All that could be done was, to sit -down at that end of the counter which seemed to promise the -quickest succession one gentleman only was standing there, -and it is probable that Elinor was not without hope -of exciting his politeness to a quicker despatch. -But the correctness of his eye, and the delicacy -of his taste, proved to be beyond his politeness. -He was giving orders for a toothpickcase for himself, -and till its size, shape, and ornaments were determined, -all of which, after examining and debating for a quarter -of an hour over every toothpickcase in the shop, -were finally arranged by his own inventive fancy, he had -no leisure to bestow any other attention on the two ladies, -than what was comprised in three or four very broad stares -a kind of notice which served to imprint on Elinor -the remembrance of a person and face, of strong, -natural, sterling insignificance, though adorned in -the first style of fashion. -Marianne was spared from the troublesome feelings -of contempt and resentment, on this impertinent examination -of their features, and on the puppyism of his manner -in deciding on all the different horrors of the different -toothpickcases presented to his inspection, by remaining -unconscious of it all for she was as well able to collect -her thoughts within herself, and be as ignorant of what was -passing around her, in Mr. Gray's shop, as in her own bedroom. -At last the affair was decided. The ivory, -the gold, and the pearls, all received their appointment, -and the gentleman having named the last day on which his -existence could be continued without the possession of the -toothpickcase, drew on his gloves with leisurely care, -and bestowing another glance on the Miss Dashwoods, but such -a one as seemed rather to demand than express admiration, -walked off with a happy air of real conceit and affected -indifference. -Elinor lost no time in bringing her business forward, -was on the point of concluding it, when another gentleman -presented himself at her side. She turned her eyes towards -his face, and found him with some surprise to be her brother. -Their affection and pleasure in meeting was just enough -to make a very creditable appearance in Mr. Gray's shop. -John Dashwood was really far from being sorry to see -his sisters again it rather gave them satisfaction -and his inquiries after their mother were respectful -and attentive. -Elinor found that he and Fanny had been in town -two days. -"I wished very much to call upon you yesterday," -said he, "but it was impossible, for we were obliged -to take Harry to see the wild beasts at Exeter Exchange -and we spent the rest of the day with Mrs. Ferrars. -Harry was vastly pleased. THIS morning I had fully intended -to call on you, if I could possibly find a spare half hour, -but one has always so much to do on first coming to town. -I am come here to bespeak Fanny a seal. But tomorrow I -think I shall certainly be able to call in Berkeley Street, -and be introduced to your friend Mrs. Jennings. -I understand she is a woman of very good fortune. -And the Middletons too, you must introduce me to THEM. -As my motherinlaw's relations, I shall be happy to show -them every respect. They are excellent neighbours to you in -the country, I understand." -"Excellent indeed. Their attention to our comfort, -their friendliness in every particular, is more than I -can express." -"I am extremely glad to hear it, upon my word -extremely glad indeed. But so it ought to be they are -people of large fortune, they are related to you, and -every civility and accommodation that can serve to make -your situation pleasant might be reasonably expected. -And so you are most comfortably settled in your little cottage -and want for nothing Edward brought us a most charming -account of the place the most complete thing of its kind, -he said, that ever was, and you all seemed to enjoy it beyond -any thing. It was a great satisfaction to us to hear it, -I assure you." -Elinor did feel a little ashamed of her brother -and was not sorry to be spared the necessity of answering him, -by the arrival of Mrs. Jennings's servant, who came to tell -her that his mistress waited for them at the door. -Mr. Dashwood attended them down stairs, was introduced -to Mrs. Jennings at the door of her carriage, and repeating -his hope of being able to call on them the next day, -took leave. -His visit was duly paid. He came with a pretence at -an apology from their sisterinlaw, for not coming too -"but she was so much engaged with her mother, that really -she had no leisure for going any where." Mrs. Jennings, -however, assured him directly, that she should not stand -upon ceremony, for they were all cousins, or something -like it, and she should certainly wait on Mrs. John -Dashwood very soon, and bring her sisters to see her. -His manners to THEM, though calm, were perfectly kind -to Mrs. Jennings, most attentively civil and on Colonel -Brandon's coming in soon after himself, he eyed him with a -curiosity which seemed to say, that he only wanted to know -him to be rich, to be equally civil to HIM. -After staying with them half an hour, he asked -Elinor to walk with him to Conduit Street, and introduce -him to Sir John and Lady Middleton. The weather was -remarkably fine, and she readily consented. As soon -as they were out of the house, his enquiries began. -"Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?" -"Yes he has very good property in Dorsetshire." -"I am glad of it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man -and I think, Elinor, I may congratulate you on the prospect -of a very respectable establishment in life." -"Me, brother what do you mean?" -"He likes you. I observed him narrowly, and am -convinced of it. What is the amount of his fortune?" -"I believe about two thousand a year." -"Two thousand ayear" and then working himself -up to a pitch of enthusiastic generosity, he added, -"Elinor, I wish with all my heart it were TWICE as much, -for your sake." -"Indeed I believe you," replied Elinor "but I am -very sure that Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish -of marrying ME." -"You are mistaken, Elinor you are very much mistaken. -A very little trouble on your side secures him. -Perhaps just at present he may be undecided the smallness -of your fortune may make him hang back his friends -may all advise him against it. But some of those little -attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily -give will fix him, in spite of himself. And there can be -no reason why you should not try for him. It is not to be -supposed that any prior attachment on your sidein short, -you know as to an attachment of that kind, it is quite -out of the question, the objections are insurmountable -you have too much sense not to see all that. Colonel Brandon -must be the man and no civility shall be wanting on -my part to make him pleased with you and your family. -It is a match that must give universal satisfaction. -In short, it is a kind of thing that"lowering his voice -to an important whisper"will be exceedingly welcome -to ALL PARTIES." Recollecting himself, however, he added, -"That is, I mean to sayyour friends are all truly -anxious to see you well settled Fanny particularly, -for she has your interest very much at heart, I assure you. -And her mother too, Mrs. Ferrars, a very goodnatured woman, -I am sure it would give her great pleasure she said as much -the other day." -Elinor would not vouchsafe any answer. -"It would be something remarkable, now," he continued, -"something droll, if Fanny should have a brother and I -a sister settling at the same time. And yet it is not -very unlikely." -"Is Mr. Edward Ferrars," said Elinor, with resolution, -"going to be married?" -"It is not actually settled, but there is such -a thing in agitation. He has a most excellent mother. -Mrs. Ferrars, with the utmost liberality, will come forward, -and settle on him a thousand a year, if the match -takes place. The lady is the Hon. Miss Morton, only daughter -of the late Lord Morton, with thirty thousand pounds. -A very desirable connection on both sides, and I have not -a doubt of its taking place in time. A thousand ayear -is a great deal for a mother to give away, to make over -for ever but Mrs. Ferrars has a noble spirit. To give -you another instance of her liberalityThe other day, -as soon as we came to town, aware that money could -not be very plenty with us just now, she put banknotes -into Fanny's hands to the amount of two hundred pounds. -And extremely acceptable it is, for we must live at a great -expense while we are here." -He paused for her assent and compassion and she -forced herself to say, -"Your expenses both in town and country must certainly -be considerable but your income is a large one." -"Not so large, I dare say, as many people suppose. -I do not mean to complain, however it is undoubtedly -a comfortable one, and I hope will in time be better. -The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying on, -is a most serious drain. And then I have made a little -purchase within this half year East Kingham Farm, -you must remember the place, where old Gibson used to live. -The land was so very desirable for me in every respect, -so immediately adjoining my own property, that I felt it -my duty to buy it. I could not have answered it to my -conscience to let it fall into any other hands. A man must -pay for his convenience and it HAS cost me a vast deal -of money." -"More than you think it really and intrinsically worth." -"Why, I hope not that. I might have sold it again, -the next day, for more than I gave but, with regard to the -purchasemoney, I might have been very unfortunate indeed -for the stocks were at that time so low, that if I had not -happened to have the necessary sum in my banker's hands, -I must have sold out to very great loss." -Elinor could only smile. -"Other great and inevitable expenses too we have -had on first coming to Norland. Our respected father, -as you well know, bequeathed all the Stanhill effects -that remained at Norland and very valuable they were -to your mother. Far be it from me to repine at his -doing so he had an undoubted right to dispose of his -own property as he chose, but, in consequence of it, -we have been obliged to make large purchases of linen, -china, c. to supply the place of what was taken away. -You may guess, after all these expenses, how very far we -must be from being rich, and how acceptable Mrs. Ferrars's -kindness is." -"Certainly," said Elinor "and assisted by her liberality, -I hope you may yet live to be in easy circumstances." -"Another year or two may do much towards it," -he gravely replied "but however there is still a great -deal to be done. There is not a stone laid of Fanny's -greenhouse, and nothing but the plan of the flowergarden -marked out." -"Where is the greenhouse to be?" -"Upon the knoll behind the house. The old -walnut trees are all come down to make room for it. -It will be a very fine object from many parts of the park, -and the flowergarden will slope down just before it, -and be exceedingly pretty. We have cleared away all the old -thorns that grew in patches over the brow." -Elinor kept her concern and her censure to herself -and was very thankful that Marianne was not present, -to share the provocation. -Having now said enough to make his poverty clear, -and to do away the necessity of buying a pair of earrings -for each of his sisters, in his next visit at Gray's -his thoughts took a cheerfuller turn, and he began to -congratulate Elinor on having such a friend as Mrs. Jennings. -"She seems a most valuable woman indeedHer house, -her style of living, all bespeak an exceeding good income -and it is an acquaintance that has not only been -of great use to you hitherto, but in the end may prove -materially advantageous.Her inviting you to town is -certainly a vast thing in your favour and indeed, it -speaks altogether so great a regard for you, that in all -probability when she dies you will not be forgotten. -She must have a great deal to leave." -"Nothing at all, I should rather suppose for she has -only her jointure, which will descend to her children." -"But it is not to be imagined that she lives up to -her income. Few people of common prudence will do THAT -and whatever she saves, she will be able to dispose of." -"And do you not think it more likely that she -should leave it to her daughters, than to us?" -"Her daughters are both exceedingly well married, -and therefore I cannot perceive the necessity of her -remembering them farther. Whereas, in my opinion, by her -taking so much notice of you, and treating you in this -kind of way, she has given you a sort of claim on her -future consideration, which a conscientious woman would -not disregard. Nothing can be kinder than her behaviour -and she can hardly do all this, without being aware -of the expectation it raises." -"But she raises none in those most concerned. -Indeed, brother, your anxiety for our welfare and prosperity -carries you too far." -"Why, to be sure," said he, seeming to recollect himself, -"people have little, have very little in their power. -But, my dear Elinor, what is the matter with Marianne? -she looks very unwell, has lost her colour, and is grown -quite thin. Is she ill?" -"She is not well, she has had a nervous complaint -on her for several weeks." -"I am sorry for that. At her time of life, -any thing of an illness destroys the bloom for ever -Her's has been a very short one She was as handsome a girl -last September, as I ever saw and as likely to attract -the man. There was something in her style of beauty, -to please them particularly. I remember Fanny used to say -that she would marry sooner and better than you did -not but what she is exceedingly fond of YOU, but so it -happened to strike her. She will be mistaken, however. -I question whether Marianne NOW, will marry a man worth -more than five or six hundred ayear, at the utmost, -and I am very much deceived if YOU do not do better. -Dorsetshire I know very little of Dorsetshire but, my dear -Elinor, I shall be exceedingly glad to know more of it -and I think I can answer for your having Fanny and myself -among the earliest and best pleased of your visitors." -Elinor tried very seriously to convince him that -there was no likelihood of her marrying Colonel Brandon -but it was an expectation of too much pleasure to himself -to be relinquished, and he was really resolved on seeking -an intimacy with that gentleman, and promoting the marriage -by every possible attention. He had just compunction -enough for having done nothing for his sisters himself, -to be exceedingly anxious that everybody else should -do a great deal and an offer from Colonel Brandon, -or a legacy from Mrs. Jennings, was the easiest means -of atoning for his own neglect. -They were lucky enough to find Lady Middleton -at home, and Sir John came in before their visit ended. -Abundance of civilities passed on all sides. Sir John -was ready to like anybody, and though Mr. Dashwood did -not seem to know much about horses, he soon set him -down as a very goodnatured fellow while Lady Middleton -saw enough of fashion in his appearance to think his -acquaintance worth having and Mr. Dashwood went away -delighted with both. -"I shall have a charming account to carry -to Fanny," said he, as he walked back with his sister. -"Lady Middleton is really a most elegant woman Such -a woman as I am sure Fanny will be glad to know. -And Mrs. Jennings too, an exceedingly wellbehaved woman, -though not so elegant as her daughter. Your sister need -not have any scruple even of visiting HER, which, to say -the truth, has been a little the case, and very naturally -for we only knew that Mrs. Jennings was the widow of a man -who had got all his money in a low way and Fanny and -Mrs. Ferrars were both strongly prepossessed, that neither -she nor her daughters were such kind of women as Fanny -would like to associate with. But now I can carry her -a most satisfactory account of both." -CHAPTER -Mrs. John Dashwood had so much confidence in her -husband's judgment, that she waited the very next day -both on Mrs. Jennings and her daughter and her -confidence was rewarded by finding even the former, -even the woman with whom her sisters were staying, -by no means unworthy her notice and as for Lady Middleton, -she found her one of the most charming women in the world -Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood. -There was a kind of cold hearted selfishness on both sides, -which mutually attracted them and they sympathised -with each other in an insipid propriety of demeanor, -and a general want of understanding. -The same manners, however, which recommended Mrs. John -Dashwood to the good opinion of Lady Middleton did not suit -the fancy of Mrs. Jennings, and to HER she appeared nothing -more than a little proudlooking woman of uncordial address, -who met her husband's sisters without any affection, -and almost without having anything to say to them -for of the quarter of an hour bestowed on Berkeley Street, -she sat at least seven minutes and a half in silence. -Elinor wanted very much to know, though she did -not chuse to ask, whether Edward was then in town -but nothing would have induced Fanny voluntarily -to mention his name before her, till able to tell her -that his marriage with Miss Morton was resolved on, -or till her husband's expectations on Colonel Brandon -were answered because she believed them still so very -much attached to each other, that they could not be too -sedulously divided in word and deed on every occasion. -The intelligence however, which SHE would not give, -soon flowed from another quarter. Lucy came very shortly -to claim Elinor's compassion on being unable to see Edward, -though he had arrived in town with Mr. and Mrs. Dashwood. -He dared not come to Bartlett's Buildings for fear -of detection, and though their mutual impatience to meet, -was not to be told, they could do nothing at present -but write. -Edward assured them himself of his being in town, -within a very short time, by twice calling in Berkeley Street. -Twice was his card found on the table, when they returned -from their morning's engagements. Elinor was pleased -that he had called and still more pleased that she had -missed him. -The Dashwoods were so prodigiously delighted -with the Middletons, that, though not much in the habit -of giving anything, they determined to give them -a dinner and soon after their acquaintance began, -invited them to dine in Harley Street, where they had -taken a very good house for three months. Their sisters -and Mrs. Jennings were invited likewise, and John Dashwood -was careful to secure Colonel Brandon, who, always glad -to be where the Miss Dashwoods were, received his eager -civilities with some surprise, but much more pleasure. -They were to meet Mrs. Ferrars but Elinor could not learn -whether her sons were to be of the party. The expectation -of seeing HER, however, was enough to make her interested -in the engagement for though she could now meet Edward's -mother without that strong anxiety which had once promised -to attend such an introduction, though she could now see -her with perfect indifference as to her opinion of herself, -her desire of being in company with Mrs. Ferrars, -her curiosity to know what she was like, was as lively as ever. -The interest with which she thus anticipated the -party, was soon afterwards increased, more powerfully -than pleasantly, by her hearing that the Miss Steeles -were also to be at it. -So well had they recommended themselves to Lady Middleton, -so agreeable had their assiduities made them to her, -that though Lucy was certainly not so elegant, and her -sister not even genteel, she was as ready as Sir John -to ask them to spend a week or two in Conduit Street -and it happened to be particularly convenient to the Miss -Steeles, as soon as the Dashwoods' invitation was known, -that their visit should begin a few days before the party -took place. -Their claims to the notice of Mrs. John Dashwood, -as the nieces of the gentleman who for many years had -had the care of her brother, might not have done much, -however, towards procuring them seats at her table -but as Lady Middleton's guests they must be welcome and Lucy, -who had long wanted to be personally known to the family, -to have a nearer view of their characters and her own -difficulties, and to have an opportunity of endeavouring -to please them, had seldom been happier in her life, -than she was on receiving Mrs. John Dashwood's card. -On Elinor its effect was very different. She began -immediately to determine, that Edward who lived with -his mother, must be asked as his mother was, to a party -given by his sister and to see him for the first time, -after all that passed, in the company of Lucyshe hardly -knew how she could bear it -These apprehensions, perhaps, were not founded -entirely on reason, and certainly not at all on truth. -They were relieved however, not by her own recollection, -but by the good will of Lucy, who believed herself to be -inflicting a severe disappointment when she told her -that Edward certainly would not be in Harley Street on Tuesday, -and even hoped to be carrying the pain still farther -by persuading her that he was kept away by the extreme -affection for herself, which he could not conceal when they -were together. -The important Tuesday came that was to introduce -the two young ladies to this formidable motherinlaw. -"Pity me, dear Miss Dashwood" said Lucy, as they -walked up the stairs togetherfor the Middletons arrived -so directly after Mrs. Jennings, that they all followed -the servant at the same time"There is nobody here but -you, that can feel for me.I declare I can hardly stand. -Good graciousIn a moment I shall see the person that all -my happiness depends onthat is to be my mother" -Elinor could have given her immediate relief -by suggesting the possibility of its being Miss Morton's mother, -rather than her own, whom they were about to behold -but instead of doing that, she assured her, and with -great sincerity, that she did pity herto the utter -amazement of Lucy, who, though really uncomfortable herself, -hoped at least to be an object of irrepressible envy to Elinor. -Mrs. Ferrars was a little, thin woman, upright, -even to formality, in her figure, and serious, -even to sourness, in her aspect. Her complexion was sallow -and her features small, without beauty, and naturally -without expression but a lucky contraction of the brow -had rescued her countenance from the disgrace of insipidity, -by giving it the strong characters of pride and ill nature. -She was not a woman of many words for, unlike people -in general, she proportioned them to the number of -her ideas and of the few syllables that did escape her, -not one fell to the share of Miss Dashwood, whom she eyed -with the spirited determination of disliking her at all events. -Elinor could not NOW be made unhappy by this behaviour. -A few months ago it would have hurt her exceedingly but it -was not in Mrs. Ferrars' power to distress her by it now -and the difference of her manners to the Miss Steeles, -a difference which seemed purposely made to humble her more, -only amused her. She could not but smile to see the graciousness -of both mother and daughter towards the very person -for Lucy was particularly distinguishedwhom of all others, -had they known as much as she did, they would have been most -anxious to mortify while she herself, who had comparatively -no power to wound them, sat pointedly slighted by both. -But while she smiled at a graciousness so misapplied, -she could not reflect on the meanspirited folly from -which it sprung, nor observe the studied attentions -with which the Miss Steeles courted its continuance, -without thoroughly despising them all four. -Lucy was all exultation on being so honorably -distinguished and Miss Steele wanted only to be teazed -about Dr. Davies to be perfectly happy. -The dinner was a grand one, the servants were numerous, -and every thing bespoke the Mistress's inclination -for show, and the Master's ability to support it. -In spite of the improvements and additions which were -making to the Norland estate, and in spite of its owner -having once been within some thousand pounds of being -obliged to sell out at a loss, nothing gave any symptom -of that indigence which he had tried to infer from it -no poverty of any kind, except of conversation, appeared -but there, the deficiency was considerable. John Dashwood -had not much to say for himself that was worth hearing, -and his wife had still less. But there was no peculiar -disgrace in this for it was very much the case with -the chief of their visitors, who almost all laboured -under one or other of these disqualifications for being -agreeableWant of sense, either natural or improvedwant -of elegancewant of spiritsor want of temper. -When the ladies withdrew to the drawingroom -after dinner, this poverty was particularly evident, -for the gentlemen HAD supplied the discourse with some -varietythe variety of politics, inclosing land, -and breaking horsesbut then it was all over and one -subject only engaged the ladies till coffee came in, -which was the comparative heights of Harry Dashwood, -and Lady Middleton's second son William, who were nearly -of the same age. -Had both the children been there, the affair might -have been determined too easily by measuring them at once -but as Harry only was present, it was all conjectural -assertion on both sides and every body had a right to -be equally positive in their opinion, and to repeat it -over and over again as often as they liked. -The parties stood thus -The two mothers, though each really convinced that -her own son was the tallest, politely decided in favour -of the other. -The two grandmothers, with not less partiality, -but more sincerity, were equally earnest in support -of their own descendant. -Lucy, who was hardly less anxious to please one parent -than the other, thought the boys were both remarkably tall -for their age, and could not conceive that there could -be the smallest difference in the world between them -and Miss Steele, with yet greater address gave it, -as fast as she could, in favour of each. -Elinor, having once delivered her opinion on -William's side, by which she offended Mrs. Ferrars and -Fanny still more, did not see the necessity of enforcing -it by any farther assertion and Marianne, when called -on for her's, offended them all, by declaring that she -had no opinion to give, as she had never thought about it. -Before her removing from Norland, Elinor had painted -a very pretty pair of screens for her sisterinlaw, -which being now just mounted and brought home, -ornamented her present drawing room and these screens, -catching the eye of John Dashwood on his following -the other gentlemen into the room, were officiously -handed by him to Colonel Brandon for his admiration. -"These are done by my eldest sister," said he "and you, -as a man of taste, will, I dare say, be pleased with them. -I do not know whether you have ever happened to see any -of her performances before, but she is in general reckoned -to draw extremely well." -The Colonel, though disclaiming all pretensions -to connoisseurship, warmly admired the screens, as he -would have done any thing painted by Miss Dashwood -and on the curiosity of the others being of course excited, -they were handed round for general inspection. -Mrs. Ferrars, not aware of their being Elinor's work, -particularly requested to look at them and after they had -received gratifying testimony of Lady Middletons's approbation, -Fanny presented them to her mother, considerately informing -her, at the same time, that they were done by Miss Dashwood. -"Hum"said Mrs. Ferrars"very pretty,"and without -regarding them at all, returned them to her daughter. -Perhaps Fanny thought for a moment that her mother -had been quite rude enough,for, colouring a little, -she immediately said, -"They are very pretty, ma'aman't they?" But then again, -the dread of having been too civil, too encouraging herself, -probably came over her, for she presently added, -"Do you not think they are something in Miss -Morton's style of painting, Ma'am?She DOES paint most -delightfullyHow beautifully her last landscape is done" -"Beautifully indeed But SHE does every thing well." -Marianne could not bear this.She was already -greatly displeased with Mrs. Ferrars and such illtimed -praise of another, at Elinor's expense, though she -had not any notion of what was principally meant by it, -provoked her immediately to say with warmth, -"This is admiration of a very particular kind -what is Miss Morton to us?who knows, or who cares, -for her?it is Elinor of whom WE think and speak." -And so saying, she took the screens out of her -sisterinlaw's hands, to admire them herself as they -ought to be admired. -Mrs. Ferrars looked exceedingly angry, and drawing -herself up more stiffly than ever, pronounced in retort -this bitter philippic, "Miss Morton is Lord Morton's daughter." -Fanny looked very angry too, and her husband was -all in a fright at his sister's audacity. Elinor was -much more hurt by Marianne's warmth than she had been -by what produced it but Colonel Brandon's eyes, as they -were fixed on Marianne, declared that he noticed only -what was amiable in it, the affectionate heart which could -not bear to see a sister slighted in the smallest point. -Marianne's feelings did not stop here. The cold -insolence of Mrs. Ferrars's general behaviour to her sister, -seemed, to her, to foretell such difficulties and distresses -to Elinor, as her own wounded heart taught her to think -of with horror and urged by a strong impulse of -affectionate sensibility, she moved after a moment, -to her sister's chair, and putting one arm round her neck, -and one cheek close to hers, said in a low, but eager, -voice, -"Dear, dear Elinor, don't mind them. Don't let them -make YOU unhappy." -She could say no more her spirits were quite overcome, -and hiding her face on Elinor's shoulder, she burst -into tears. Every body's attention was called, and almost -every body was concerned.Colonel Brandon rose up and went -to them without knowing what he did.Mrs. Jennings, -with a very intelligent "Ah poor dear," immediately gave -her her salts and Sir John felt so desperately enraged -against the author of this nervous distress, that he -instantly changed his seat to one close by Lucy Steele, -and gave her, in a whisper, a brief account of the whole -shocking affair. -In a few minutes, however, Marianne was recovered -enough to put an end to the bustle, and sit down among -the rest though her spirits retained the impression -of what had passed, the whole evening. -"Poor Marianne" said her brother to Colonel Brandon, -in a low voice, as soon as he could secure his attention, -"She has not such good health as her sister,she is very -nervous,she has not Elinor's constitutionand one must -allow that there is something very trying to a young woman -who HAS BEEN a beauty in the loss of her personal attractions. -You would not think it perhaps, but Marianne WAS remarkably -handsome a few months ago quite as handsome as Elinor. -Now you see it is all gone." -CHAPTER -Elinor's curiosity to see Mrs. Ferrars was satisfied. -She had found in her every thing that could tend to make -a farther connection between the families undesirable. -She had seen enough of her pride, her meanness, and her -determined prejudice against herself, to comprehend all -the difficulties that must have perplexed the engagement, -and retarded the marriage, of Edward and herself, had he been -otherwise freeand she had seen almost enough to be thankful -for her OWN sake, that one greater obstacle preserved her -from suffering under any other of Mrs. Ferrars's creation, -preserved her from all dependence upon her caprice, or any -solicitude for her good opinion. Or at least, if she did not -bring herself quite to rejoice in Edward's being fettered -to Lucy, she determined, that had Lucy been more amiable, -she OUGHT to have rejoiced. -She wondered that Lucy's spirits could be so very much -elevated by the civility of Mrs. Ferrarsthat her interest -and her vanity should so very much blind her as to make -the attention which seemed only paid her because she was -NOT ELINOR, appear a compliment to herselfor to allow -her to derive encouragement from a preference only given her, -because her real situation was unknown. But that it was so, -had not only been declared by Lucy's eyes at the time, -but was declared over again the next morning more openly, -for at her particular desire, Lady Middleton set her down -in Berkeley Street on the chance of seeing Elinor alone, -to tell her how happy she was. -The chance proved a lucky one, for a message from -Mrs. Palmer soon after she arrived, carried Mrs. Jennings away. -"My dear friend," cried Lucy, as soon as they were -by themselves, "I come to talk to you of my happiness. -Could anything be so flattering as Mrs. Ferrars's way -of treating me yesterday? So exceeding affable as she -wasYou know how I dreaded the thoughts of seeing her -but the very moment I was introduced, there was such an -affability in her behaviour as really should seem to say, -she had quite took a fancy to me. Now was not it so? -You saw it all and was not you quite struck with it?" -"She was certainly very civil to you." -"CivilDid you see nothing but only civility? -I saw a vast deal more. Such kindness as fell to the share -of nobody but meNo pride, no hauteur, and your sister -just the sameall sweetness and affability" -Elinor wished to talk of something else, but Lucy still -pressed her to own that she had reason for her happiness -and Elinor was obliged to go on. -"Undoubtedly, if they had known your engagement," -said she, "nothing could be more flattering than their -treatment of youbut as that was not the case" -"I guessed you would say so"replied Lucy -quickly"but there was no reason in the world why -Mrs. Ferrars should seem to like me, if she did not, -and her liking me is every thing. You shan't talk me -out of my satisfaction. I am sure it will all end well, -and there will be no difficulties at all, to what I -used to think. Mrs. Ferrars is a charming woman, -and so is your sister. They are both delightful women, -indeedI wonder I should never hear you say how agreeable -Mrs. Dashwood was" -To this Elinor had no answer to make, and did not -attempt any. -"Are you ill, Miss Dashwood?you seem lowyou -don't speaksure you an't well." -"I never was in better health." -"I am glad of it with all my heart but really you did -not look it. I should be sorry to have YOU ill you, that have -been the greatest comfort to me in the worldHeaven -knows what I should have done without your friendship." -Elinor tried to make a civil answer, though doubting -her own success. But it seemed to satisfy Lucy, for she -directly replied, -"Indeed I am perfectly convinced of your regard -for me, and next to Edward's love, it is the greatest -comfort I have.Poor EdwardBut now there is one -good thing, we shall be able to meet, and meet pretty often, -for Lady Middleton's delighted with Mrs. Dashwood, -so we shall be a good deal in Harley Street, I dare say, -and Edward spends half his time with his sisterbesides, -Lady Middleton and Mrs. Ferrars will visit now -and Mrs. Ferrars and your sister were both so good to say -more than once, they should always be glad to see me. -They are such charming womenI am sure if ever you -tell your sister what I think of her, you cannot speak -too high." -But Elinor would not give her any encouragement -to hope that she SHOULD tell her sister. Lucy continued. -"I am sure I should have seen it in a moment, -if Mrs. Ferrars had took a dislike to me. If she had only -made me a formal courtesy, for instance, without saying -a word, and never after had took any notice of me, -and never looked at me in a pleasant wayyou know -what I meanif I had been treated in that forbidding -sort of way, I should have gave it all up in despair. -I could not have stood it. For where she DOES dislike, -I know it is most violent." -Elinor was prevented from making any reply to this -civil triumph, by the door's being thrown open, the servant's -announcing Mr. Ferrars, and Edward's immediately walking in. -It was a very awkward moment and the countenance of each -shewed that it was so. They all looked exceedingly foolish -and Edward seemed to have as great an inclination to walk -out of the room again, as to advance farther into it. -The very circumstance, in its unpleasantest form, -which they would each have been most anxious to avoid, -had fallen on them.They were not only all three together, -but were together without the relief of any other person. -The ladies recovered themselves first. It was not Lucy's -business to put herself forward, and the appearance of -secrecy must still be kept up. She could therefore only -LOOK her tenderness, and after slightly addressing him, -said no more. -But Elinor had more to do and so anxious was she, -for his sake and her own, to do it well, that she -forced herself, after a moment's recollection, -to welcome him, with a look and manner that were almost easy, -and almost open and another struggle, another effort still -improved them. She would not allow the presence of Lucy, -nor the consciousness of some injustice towards herself, -to deter her from saying that she was happy to see him, -and that she had very much regretted being from home, -when he called before in Berkeley Street. She would -not be frightened from paying him those attentions which, -as a friend and almost a relation, were his due, by the -observant eyes of Lucy, though she soon perceived them -to be narrowly watching her. -Her manners gave some reassurance to Edward, and he -had courage enough to sit down but his embarrassment still -exceeded that of the ladies in a proportion, which the case -rendered reasonable, though his sex might make it rare -for his heart had not the indifference of Lucy's, nor -could his conscience have quite the ease of Elinor's. -Lucy, with a demure and settled air, seemed determined -to make no contribution to the comfort of the others, -and would not say a word and almost every thing that WAS -said, proceeded from Elinor, who was obliged to volunteer -all the information about her mother's health, their coming -to town, c. which Edward ought to have inquired about, -but never did. -Her exertions did not stop here for she soon -afterwards felt herself so heroically disposed as -to determine, under pretence of fetching Marianne, -to leave the others by themselves and she really did it, -and THAT in the handsomest manner, for she loitered away -several minutes on the landingplace, with the most -highminded fortitude, before she went to her sister. -When that was once done, however, it was time for the raptures -of Edward to cease for Marianne's joy hurried her into -the drawingroom immediately. Her pleasure in seeing him -was like every other of her feelings, strong in itself, -and strongly spoken. She met him with a hand that would -be taken, and a voice that expressed the affection of a sister. -"Dear Edward" she cried, "this is a moment of great -happinessThis would almost make amends for every thing?" -Edward tried to return her kindness as it deserved, -but before such witnesses he dared not say half what he -really felt. Again they all sat down, and for a moment -or two all were silent while Marianne was looking with the -most speaking tenderness, sometimes at Edward and sometimes -at Elinor, regretting only that their delight in each -other should be checked by Lucy's unwelcome presence. -Edward was the first to speak, and it was to notice -Marianne's altered looks, and express his fear of her -not finding London agree with her. -"Oh, don't think of me" she replied with spirited -earnestness, though her eyes were filled with tears -as she spoke, "don't think of MY health. Elinor is well, -you see. That must be enough for us both." -This remark was not calculated to make Edward or -Elinor more easy, nor to conciliate the good will of Lucy, -who looked up at Marianne with no very benignant expression. -"Do you like London?" said Edward, willing to say -any thing that might introduce another subject. -"Not at all. I expected much pleasure in it, -but I have found none. The sight of you, Edward, is the -only comfort it has afforded and thank Heaven you -are what you always were" -She pausedno one spoke. -"I think, Elinor," she presently added, "we must -employ Edward to take care of us in our return to Barton. -In a week or two, I suppose, we shall be going and, I trust, -Edward will not be very unwilling to accept the charge." -Poor Edward muttered something, but what it was, -nobody knew, not even himself. But Marianne, who saw -his agitation, and could easily trace it to whatever -cause best pleased herself, was perfectly satisfied, -and soon talked of something else. -"We spent such a day, Edward, in Harley Street -yesterday So dull, so wretchedly dullBut I have much -to say to you on that head, which cannot be said now." -And with this admirable discretion did she defer -the assurance of her finding their mutual relatives more -disagreeable than ever, and of her being particularly -disgusted with his mother, till they were more in private. -"But why were you not there, Edward?Why did you -not come?" -"I was engaged elsewhere." -"Engaged But what was that, when such friends -were to be met?" -"Perhaps, Miss Marianne," cried Lucy, eager to take -some revenge on her, "you think young men never stand -upon engagements, if they have no mind to keep them, -little as well as great." -Elinor was very angry, but Marianne seemed entirely -insensible of the sting for she calmly replied, -"Not so, indeed for, seriously speaking, I am very -sure that conscience only kept Edward from Harley Street. -And I really believe he HAS the most delicate conscience -in the world the most scrupulous in performing -every engagement, however minute, and however it -may make against his interest or pleasure. He is the -most fearful of giving pain, of wounding expectation, -and the most incapable of being selfish, of any body -I ever saw. Edward, it is so, and I will say it. -What are you never to hear yourself praisedThen you -must be no friend of mine for those who will accept -of my love and esteem, must submit to my open commendation." -The nature of her commendation, in the present case, -however, happened to be particularly illsuited to the -feelings of two thirds of her auditors, and was so very -unexhilarating to Edward, that he very soon got up to go away. -"Going so soon" said Marianne "my dear Edward, -this must not be." -And drawing him a little aside, she whispered -her persuasion that Lucy could not stay much longer. -But even this encouragement failed, for he would go -and Lucy, who would have outstaid him, had his visit lasted -two hours, soon afterwards went away. -"What can bring her here so often?" said Marianne, -on her leaving them. "Could not she see that we wanted -her gonehow teazing to Edward" -"Why so?we were all his friends, and Lucy has been -the longest known to him of any. It is but natural -that he should like to see her as well as ourselves." -Marianne looked at her steadily, and said, "You know, -Elinor, that this is a kind of talking which I cannot bear. -If you only hope to have your assertion contradicted, -as I must suppose to be the case, you ought to recollect -that I am the last person in the world to do it. -I cannot descend to be tricked out of assurances, that are -not really wanted." -She then left the room and Elinor dared not follow -her to say more, for bound as she was by her promise -of secrecy to Lucy, she could give no information that -would convince Marianne and painful as the consequences -of her still continuing in an error might be, she was -obliged to submit to it. All that she could hope, was -that Edward would not often expose her or himself to the -distress of hearing Marianne's mistaken warmth, nor to the -repetition of any other part of the pain that had attended -their recent meetingand this she had every reason to expect. -CHAPTER -Within a few days after this meeting, the newspapers -announced to the world, that the lady of Thomas Palmer, -Esq. was safely delivered of a son and heir a very -interesting and satisfactory paragraph, at least to all -those intimate connections who knew it before. -This event, highly important to Mrs. Jennings's happiness, -produced a temporary alteration in the disposal of her time, -and influenced, in a like degree, the engagements -of her young friends for as she wished to be as much -as possible with Charlotte, she went thither every morning -as soon as she was dressed, and did not return till late -in the evening and the Miss Dashwoods, at the particular -request of the Middletons, spent the whole of every day, -in every day in Conduit Street. For their own comfort -they would much rather have remained, at least all -the morning, in Mrs. Jennings's house but it was not -a thing to be urged against the wishes of everybody. -Their hours were therefore made over to Lady Middleton -and the two Miss Steeles, by whom their company, in fact -was as little valued, as it was professedly sought. -They had too much sense to be desirable companions -to the former and by the latter they were considered with -a jealous eye, as intruding on THEIR ground, and sharing -the kindness which they wanted to monopolize. Though nothing -could be more polite than Lady Middleton's behaviour to -Elinor and Marianne, she did not really like them at all. -Because they neither flattered herself nor her children, -she could not believe them goodnatured and because they -were fond of reading, she fancied them satirical perhaps -without exactly knowing what it was to be satirical -but THAT did not signify. It was censure in common use, -and easily given. -Their presence was a restraint both on her and on Lucy. -It checked the idleness of one, and the business of the other. -Lady Middleton was ashamed of doing nothing before them, -and the flattery which Lucy was proud to think of -and administer at other times, she feared they would despise -her for offering. Miss Steele was the least discomposed -of the three, by their presence and it was in their power -to reconcile her to it entirely. Would either of them -only have given her a full and minute account of the whole -affair between Marianne and Mr. Willoughby, she would -have thought herself amply rewarded for the sacrifice -of the best place by the fire after dinner, which their -arrival occasioned. But this conciliation was not granted -for though she often threw out expressions of pity for her -sister to Elinor, and more than once dropt a reflection -on the inconstancy of beaux before Marianne, no effect -was produced, but a look of indifference from the former, -or of disgust in the latter. An effort even yet lighter -might have made her their friend. Would they only have -laughed at her about the Doctor But so little were they, -anymore than the others, inclined to oblige her, -that if Sir John dined from home, she might spend a whole -day without hearing any other raillery on the subject, -than what she was kind enough to bestow on herself. -All these jealousies and discontents, however, were so -totally unsuspected by Mrs. Jennings, that she thought -it a delightful thing for the girls to be together -and generally congratulated her young friends every night, -on having escaped the company of a stupid old woman so long. -She joined them sometimes at Sir John's, sometimes -at her own house but wherever it was, she always came -in excellent spirits, full of delight and importance, -attributing Charlotte's well doing to her own care, and ready -to give so exact, so minute a detail of her situation, -as only Miss Steele had curiosity enough to desire. -One thing DID disturb her and of that she made her -daily complaint. Mr. Palmer maintained the common, -but unfatherly opinion among his sex, of all infants being alike -and though she could plainly perceive, at different times, -the most striking resemblance between this baby and every -one of his relations on both sides, there was no convincing -his father of it no persuading him to believe that it -was not exactly like every other baby of the same age -nor could he even be brought to acknowledge the simple -proposition of its being the finest child in the world. -I come now to the relation of a misfortune, -which about this time befell Mrs. John Dashwood. -It so happened that while her two sisters with -Mrs. Jennings were first calling on her in Harley Street, -another of her acquaintance had dropt ina circumstance -in itself not apparently likely to produce evil to her. -But while the imaginations of other people will carry -them away to form wrong judgments of our conduct, -and to decide on it by slight appearances, one's happiness -must in some measure be always at the mercy of chance. -In the present instance, this lastarrived lady allowed -her fancy to so far outrun truth and probability, -that on merely hearing the name of the Miss Dashwoods, -and understanding them to be Mr. Dashwood's sisters, -she immediately concluded them to be staying in Harley Street -and this misconstruction produced within a day -or two afterwards, cards of invitation for them -as well as for their brother and sister, to a small -musical party at her house. The consequence of which was, -that Mrs. John Dashwood was obliged to submit not only -to the exceedingly great inconvenience of sending her -carriage for the Miss Dashwoods, but, what was still worse, -must be subject to all the unpleasantness of appearing -to treat them with attention and who could tell that they -might not expect to go out with her a second time? The power -of disappointing them, it was true, must always be her's. -But that was not enough for when people are determined -on a mode of conduct which they know to be wrong, they feel -injured by the expectation of any thing better from them. -Marianne had now been brought by degrees, so much -into the habit of going out every day, that it was become -a matter of indifference to her, whether she went or not -and she prepared quietly and mechanically for every -evening's engagement, though without expecting the smallest -amusement from any, and very often without knowing, -till the last moment, where it was to take her. -To her dress and appearance she was grown so perfectly -indifferent, as not to bestow half the consideration on it, -during the whole of her toilet, which it received from -Miss Steele in the first five minutes of their being -together, when it was finished. Nothing escaped HER minute -observation and general curiosity she saw every thing, -and asked every thing was never easy till she knew the price -of every part of Marianne's dress could have guessed the -number of her gowns altogether with better judgment than -Marianne herself, and was not without hopes of finding out -before they parted, how much her washing cost per week, -and how much she had every year to spend upon herself. -The impertinence of these kind of scrutinies, moreover, -was generally concluded with a compliment, which -though meant as its douceur, was considered by Marianne -as the greatest impertinence of all for after undergoing -an examination into the value and make of her gown, -the colour of her shoes, and the arrangement of her hair, -she was almost sure of being told that upon "her word -she looked vastly smart, and she dared to say she would -make a great many conquests." -With such encouragement as this, was she dismissed -on the present occasion, to her brother's carriage -which they were ready to enter five minutes after it -stopped at the door, a punctuality not very agreeable -to their sisterinlaw, who had preceded them to the house -of her acquaintance, and was there hoping for some delay -on their part that might inconvenience either herself -or her coachman. -The events of this evening were not very remarkable. -The party, like other musical parties, comprehended a -great many people who had real taste for the performance, -and a great many more who had none at all and the performers -themselves were, as usual, in their own estimation, -and that of their immediate friends, the first private -performers in England. -As Elinor was neither musical, nor affecting to be so, -she made no scruple of turning her eyes from the grand -pianoforte, whenever it suited her, and unrestrained even -by the presence of a harp, and violoncello, would fix -them at pleasure on any other object in the room. In one -of these excursive glances she perceived among a group -of young men, the very he, who had given them a lecture -on toothpickcases at Gray's. She perceived him soon -afterwards looking at herself, and speaking familiarly -to her brother and had just determined to find out his -name from the latter, when they both came towards her, -and Mr. Dashwood introduced him to her as Mr. Robert Ferrars. -He addressed her with easy civility, and twisted -his head into a bow which assured her as plainly as -words could have done, that he was exactly the coxcomb -she had heard him described to be by Lucy. Happy had -it been for her, if her regard for Edward had depended -less on his own merit, than on the merit of his nearest -relations For then his brother's bow must have given -the finishing stroke to what the illhumour of his mother -and sister would have begun. But while she wondered -at the difference of the two young men, she did not find -that the emptiness of conceit of the one, put her out -of all charity with the modesty and worth of the other. -Why they WERE different, Robert exclaimed to her himself -in the course of a quarter of an hour's conversation -for, talking of his brother, and lamenting the extreme -GAUCHERIE which he really believed kept him from mixing -in proper society, he candidly and generously attributed it -much less to any natural deficiency, than to the misfortune -of a private education while he himself, though probably -without any particular, any material superiority -by nature, merely from the advantage of a public school, -was as well fitted to mix in the world as any other man. -"Upon my soul," he added, "I believe it is nothing more -and so I often tell my mother, when she is grieving -about it. 'My dear Madam,' I always say to her, 'you must -make yourself easy. The evil is now irremediable, -and it has been entirely your own doing. Why would -you be persuaded by my uncle, Sir Robert, against your -own judgment, to place Edward under private tuition, -at the most critical time of his life? If you had only sent -him to Westminster as well as myself, instead of sending -him to Mr. Pratt's, all this would have been prevented.' -This is the way in which I always consider the matter, -and my mother is perfectly convinced of her error." -Elinor would not oppose his opinion, because, -whatever might be her general estimation of the advantage -of a public school, she could not think of Edward's -abode in Mr. Pratt's family, with any satisfaction. -"You reside in Devonshire, I think,"was his -next observation, "in a cottage near Dawlish." -Elinor set him right as to its situation -and it seemed rather surprising to him that anybody -could live in Devonshire, without living near Dawlish. -He bestowed his hearty approbation however on their -species of house. -"For my own part," said he, "I am excessively fond -of a cottage there is always so much comfort, so much -elegance about them. And I protest, if I had any money -to spare, I should buy a little land and build one myself, -within a short distance of London, where I might drive -myself down at any time, and collect a few friends -about me, and be happy. I advise every body who is going -to build, to build a cottage. My friend Lord Courtland -came to me the other day on purpose to ask my advice, -and laid before me three different plans of Bonomi's. -I was to decide on the best of them. 'My dear Courtland,' -said I, immediately throwing them all into the fire, 'do not -adopt either of them, but by all means build a cottage.' -And that I fancy, will be the end of it. -"Some people imagine that there can be no accommodations, -no space in a cottage but this is all a mistake. -I was last month at my friend Elliott's, near Dartford. -Lady Elliott wished to give a dance. 'But how can it -be done?' said she 'my dear Ferrars, do tell me how it -is to be managed. There is not a room in this cottage -that will hold ten couple, and where can the supper be?' -I immediately saw that there could be no difficulty in it, -so I said, 'My dear Lady Elliott, do not be uneasy. -The dining parlour will admit eighteen couple with ease -cardtables may be placed in the drawingroom the library -may be open for tea and other refreshments and let the -supper be set out in the saloon.' Lady Elliott was delighted -with the thought. We measured the diningroom, and found -it would hold exactly eighteen couple, and the affair -was arranged precisely after my plan. So that, in fact, -you see, if people do but know how to set about it, -every comfort may be as well enjoyed in a cottage -as in the most spacious dwelling." -Elinor agreed to it all, for she did not think -he deserved the compliment of rational opposition. -As John Dashwood had no more pleasure in music than his -eldest sister, his mind was equally at liberty to fix on -any thing else and a thought struck him during the evening, -which he communicated to his wife, for her approbation, -when they got home. The consideration of Mrs. Dennison's -mistake, -in supposing his sisters their guests, had suggested the -propriety of their being really invited to become such, -while Mrs. Jenning's engagements kept her from home. -The expense would be nothing, the inconvenience not more -and it was altogether an attention which the delicacy -of his conscience pointed out to be requisite to its -complete enfranchisement from his promise to his father. -Fanny was startled at the proposal. -"I do not see how it can be done," said she, -"without affronting Lady Middleton, for they spend every day -with her otherwise I should be exceedingly glad to do it. -You know I am always ready to pay them any attention -in my power, as my taking them out this evening shews. -But they are Lady Middleton's visitors. How can I ask them -away from her?" -Her husband, but with great humility, did not see -the force of her objection. "They had already spent a week -in this manner in Conduit Street, and Lady Middleton -could not be displeased at their giving the same number -of days to such near relations." -Fanny paused a moment, and then, with fresh vigor, said, -"My love I would ask them with all my heart, if it -was in my power. But I had just settled within myself -to ask the Miss Steeles to spend a few days with us. -They are very well behaved, good kind of girls and I think -the attention is due to them, as their uncle did so very -well by Edward. We can ask your sisters some other year, -you know but the Miss Steeles may not be in town any more. -I am sure you will like them indeed, you DO like them, -you know, very much already, and so does my mother and they -are such favourites with Harry" -Mr. Dashwood was convinced. He saw the necessity -of inviting the Miss Steeles immediately, and his conscience -was pacified by the resolution of inviting his sisters -another year at the same time, however, slyly suspecting -that another year would make the invitation needless, -by bringing Elinor to town as Colonel Brandon's wife, -and Marianne as THEIR visitor. -Fanny, rejoicing in her escape, and proud of the ready -wit that had procured it, wrote the next morning to Lucy, -to request her company and her sister's, for some days, -in Harley Street, as soon as Lady Middleton could spare them. -This was enough to make Lucy really and reasonably happy. -Mrs. Dashwood seemed actually working for her, herself -cherishing all her hopes, and promoting all her views -Such an opportunity of being with Edward and his family was, -above all things, the most material to her interest, -and such an invitation the most gratifying to her -feelings It was an advantage that could not be too -gratefully acknowledged, nor too speedily made use of -and the visit to Lady Middleton, which had not before had -any precise limits, was instantly discovered to have been -always meant to end in two days' time. -When the note was shown to Elinor, as it was within ten -minutes after its arrival, it gave her, for the first time, -some share in the expectations of Lucy for such a mark -of uncommon kindness, vouchsafed on so short an acquaintance, -seemed to declare that the goodwill towards her arose -from something more than merely malice against herself -and might be brought, by time and address, to do -every thing that Lucy wished. Her flattery had already -subdued the pride of Lady Middleton, and made an entry -into the close heart of Mrs. John Dashwood and these -were effects that laid open the probability of greater. -The Miss Steeles removed to Harley Street, and all -that reached Elinor of their influence there, strengthened -her expectation of the event. Sir John, who called on -them more than once, brought home such accounts of the -favour they were in, as must be universally striking. -Mrs. Dashwood had never been so much pleased with any -young women in her life, as she was with them had given -each of them a needle book made by some emigrant -called Lucy by her Christian name and did not know -whether she should ever be able to part with them. -[At this point in the first and second editions, Volume II ended.] -CHAPTER -Mrs. Palmer was so well at the end of a fortnight, -that her mother felt it no longer necessary to give up -the whole of her time to her and, contenting herself with -visiting her once or twice a day, returned from that period -to her own home, and her own habits, in which she found -the Miss Dashwoods very ready to resume their former share. -About the third or fourth morning after their -being thus resettled in Berkeley Street, Mrs. Jennings, -on returning from her ordinary visit to Mrs. Palmer, -entered the drawingroom, where Elinor was sitting -by herself, with an air of such hurrying importance -as prepared her to hear something wonderful and giving her -time only to form that idea, began directly to justify it, -by saying, -"Lord my dear Miss Dashwood have you heard the news?" -"No, ma'am. What is it?" -"Something so strange But you shall hear it all. -When I got to Mr. Palmer's, I found Charlotte quite -in a fuss about the child. She was sure it was very -illit cried, and fretted, and was all over pimples. -So I looked at it directly, and, 'Lord my dear,' -says I, 'it is nothing in the world, but the red gum' -and nurse said just the same. But Charlotte, she would -not be satisfied, so Mr. Donavan was sent for and luckily -he happened to just come in from Harley Street, so he -stepped over directly, and as soon as ever he saw the child, -be said just as we did, that it was nothing in the world -but the red gum, and then Charlotte was easy. And so, -just as he was going away again, it came into my head, -I am sure I do not know how I happened to think of it, -but it came into my head to ask him if there was any news. -So upon that, he smirked, and simpered, and looked grave, -and seemed to know something or other, and at last he -said in a whisper, 'For fear any unpleasant report -should reach the young ladies under your care as to their -sister's indisposition, I think it advisable to say, -that I believe there is no great reason for alarm I hope -Mrs. Dashwood will do very well.'" -"What is Fanny ill?" -"That is exactly what I said, my dear. 'Lord' says I, -'is Mrs. Dashwood ill?' So then it all came out and the -long and the short of the matter, by all I can learn, -seems to be this. Mr. Edward Ferrars, the very young -man I used to joke with you about but however, as it -turns out, I am monstrous glad there was never any thing -in it, Mr. Edward Ferrars, it seems, has been engaged -above this twelvemonth to my cousin LucyThere's for you, -my dearAnd not a creature knowing a syllable of the matter, -except NancyCould you have believed such a thing possible? -There is no great wonder in their liking one another -but that matters should be brought so forward between them, -and nobody suspect itTHAT is strangeI never happened -to see them together, or I am sure I should have found it -out directly. Well, and so this was kept a great secret, -for fear of Mrs. Ferrars, and neither she nor your -brother or sister suspected a word of the matter -till this very morning, poor Nancy, who, you know, is a -wellmeaning creature, but no conjurer, popt it all out. -'Lord' thinks she to herself, 'they are all so fond -of Lucy, to be sure they will make no difficulty about it' -and so, away she went to your sister, who was sitting all -alone at her carpetwork, little suspecting what was to -comefor she had just been saying to your brother, only five -minutes before, that she thought to make a match between -Edward and some Lord's daughter or other, I forget who. -So you may think what a blow it was to all her vanity -and pride. She fell into violent hysterics immediately, -with such screams as reached your brother's ears, -as he was sitting in his own dressingroom down stairs, -thinking about writing a letter to his steward in the country. -So up he flew directly, and a terrible scene took place, -for Lucy was come to them by that time, little dreaming -what was going on. Poor soul I pity HER. And I must say, -I think she was used very hardly for your sister scolded -like any fury, and soon drove her into a fainting fit. -Nancy, she fell upon her knees, and cried bitterly -and your brother, he walked about the room, and said -he did not know what to do. Mrs. Dashwood declared -they should not stay a minute longer in the house, -and your brother was forced to go down upon HIS knees too, -to persuade her to let them stay till they had packed -up their clothes. THEN she fell into hysterics again, -and he was so frightened that he would send for Mr. Donavan, -and Mr. Donavan found the house in all this uproar. -The carriage was at the door ready to take my poor -cousins away, and they were just stepping in as he -came off poor Lucy in such a condition, he says, -she could hardly walk and Nancy, she was almost as bad. -I declare, I have no patience with your sister and I hope, -with all my heart, it will be a match in spite of her. -Lord what a taking poor Mr. Edward will be in when he -hears of it To have his love used so scornfully for -they say he is monstrous fond of her, as well he may. -I should not wonder, if he was to be in the greatest -passionand Mr. Donavan thinks just the same. He and I -had a great deal of talk about it and the best of all is, -that he is gone back again to Harley Street, that he may -be within call when Mrs. Ferrars is told of it, for she -was sent for as soon as ever my cousins left the house, -for your sister was sure SHE would be in hysterics too -and so she may, for what I care. I have no pity for -either of them. I have no notion of people's making -such a todo about money and greatness. There is no -reason on earth why Mr. Edward and Lucy should not marry -for I am sure Mrs. Ferrars may afford to do very well -by her son, and though Lucy has next to nothing herself, -she knows better than any body how to make the most -of every thing I dare say, if Mrs. Ferrars would only -allow him five hundred ayear, she would make as good -an appearance with it as any body else would with eight. -Lord how snug they might live in such another cottage -as yoursor a little biggerwith two maids, and two men -and I believe I could help them to a housemaid, for my -Betty has a sister out of place, that would fit them -exactly." -Here Mrs. Jennings ceased, and as Elinor had had -time enough to collect her thoughts, she was able -to give such an answer, and make such observations, -as the subject might naturally be supposed to produce. -Happy to find that she was not suspected of any extraordinary -interest in it that Mrs. Jennings as she had of late -often hoped might be the case had ceased to imagine her -at all attached to Edward and happy above all the rest, -in the absence of Marianne, she felt very well able -to speak of the affair without embarrassment, and to -give her judgment, as she believed, with impartiality -on the conduct of every one concerned in it. -She could hardly determine what her own expectation -of its event really was though she earnestly tried -to drive away the notion of its being possible to end -otherwise at last, than in the marriage of Edward and Lucy. -What Mrs. Ferrars would say and do, though there could -not be a doubt of its nature, she was anxious to hear -and still more anxious to know how Edward would -conduct himself. For HIM she felt much compassion -for Lucy very littleand it cost her some pains to procure -that littlefor the rest of the party none at all. -As Mrs. Jennings could talk on no other subject, -Elinor soon saw the necessity of preparing Marianne for -its discussion. No time was to be lost in undeceiving her, -in making her acquainted with the real truth, and in -endeavouring to bring her to hear it talked of by others, -without betraying that she felt any uneasiness for her sister, -or any resentment against Edward. -Elinor's office was a painful one.She was going -to remove what she really believed to be her sister's -chief consolation,to give such particulars of Edward as she -feared would ruin him for ever in her good opinion,and -to make Marianne, by a resemblance in their situations, -which to HER fancy would seem strong, feel all her own -disappointment over again. But unwelcome as such a task -must be, it was necessary to be done, and Elinor therefore -hastened to perform it. -She was very far from wishing to dwell on her own -feelings, or to represent herself as suffering much, -any otherwise than as the selfcommand she had practised -since her first knowledge of Edward's engagement, might -suggest a hint of what was practicable to Marianne. -Her narration was clear and simple and though it could -not be given without emotion, it was not accompanied -by violent agitation, nor impetuous grief.THAT belonged -rather to the hearer, for Marianne listened with horror, -and cried excessively. Elinor was to be the comforter -of others in her own distresses, no less than in theirs -and all the comfort that could be given by assurances -of her own composure of mind, and a very earnest -vindication of Edward from every charge but of imprudence, -was readily offered. -But Marianne for some time would give credit to neither. -Edward seemed a second Willoughby and acknowledging -as Elinor did, that she HAD loved him most sincerely, -could she feel less than herself As for Lucy Steele, -she considered her so totally unamiable, so absolutely -incapable of attaching a sensible man, that she could -not be persuaded at first to believe, and afterwards -to pardon, any former affection of Edward for her. -She would not even admit it to have been natural -and Elinor left her to be convinced that it was so, -by that which only could convince her, a better knowledge -of mankind. -Her first communication had reached no farther than -to state the fact of the engagement, and the length of time -it had existed.Marianne's feelings had then broken in, -and put an end to all regularity of detail and for some -time all that could be done was to soothe her distress, -lessen her alarms, and combat her resentment. The first -question on her side, which led to farther particulars, -was, -"How long has this been known to you, Elinor? has -he written to you?" -"I have known it these four months. When Lucy -first came to Barton Park last November, she told me -in confidence of her engagement." -At these words, Marianne's eyes expressed the astonishment -which her lips could not utter. After a pause of wonder, -she exclaimed -"Four monthsHave you known of this four months?" -Elinor confirmed it. -"Whatwhile attending me in all my misery, has this -been on your heart?And I have reproached you for being -happy" -"It was not fit that you should then know how much -I was the reverse" -"Four months"cried Marianne again."So calm -so cheerfulhow have you been supported?" -"By feeling that I was doing my duty.My promise to -Lucy, obliged me to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, -to avoid giving any hint of the truth and I owed it to my -family and friends, not to create in them a solicitude about me, -which it could not be in my power to satisfy." -Marianne seemed much struck. -"I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my -mother," added Elinor "and once or twice I have attempted it -but without betraying my trust, I never could have convinced -you." -"Four monthsand yet you loved him" -"Yes. But I did not love only himand while the comfort -of others was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing -how much I felt. Now, I can think and speak of it with -little emotion. I would not have you suffer on my account -for I assure you I no longer suffer materially myself. -I have many things to support me. I am not conscious of having -provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of my own, -I have borne it as much as possible without spreading -it farther. I acquit Edward of essential misconduct. -I wish him very happy and I am so sure of his always -doing his duty, that though now he may harbour some regret, -in the end he must become so. Lucy does not want sense, -and that is the foundation on which every thing good may -be built.And after all, Marianne, after all that is -bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment, -and all that can be said of one's happiness depending -entirely on any particular person, it is not meantit -is not fitit is not possible that it should be so. -Edward will marry Lucy he will marry a woman superior -in person and understanding to half her sex and time -and habit will teach him to forget that he ever thought -another superior to HER." -"If such is your way of thinking," said Marianne, -"if the loss of what is most valued is so easily -to be made up by something else, your resolution, -your selfcommand, are, perhaps, a little less to be -wondered at.They are brought more within my comprehension." -"I understand you.You do not suppose that I have ever -felt much.For four months, Marianne, I have had all this -hanging on my mind, without being at liberty to speak -of it to a single creature knowing that it would make -you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained -to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. -It was told me,it was in a manner forced on me by the -very person herself, whose prior engagement ruined all -my prospects and told me, as I thought, with triumph. -This person's suspicions, therefore, I have had to oppose, -by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most -deeply interestedand it has not been only onceI have -had her hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. -I have known myself to be divided from Edward for ever, -without hearing one circumstance that could make me less -desire the connection.Nothing has proved him unworthy -nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. -I have had to contend against the unkindness of his sister, -and the insolence of his mother and have suffered the -punishment of an attachment, without enjoying its advantages. -And all this has been going on at a time, when, as you -know too well, it has not been my only unhappiness. -If you can think me capable of ever feelingsurely you -may suppose that I have suffered NOW. The composure -of mind with which I have brought myself at present -to consider the matter, the consolation that I have been -willing to admit, have been the effect of constant and -painful exertionthey did not spring up of themselves -they did not occur to relieve my spirits at first. -No, Marianne.THEN, if I had not been bound to silence, -perhaps nothing could have kept me entirelynot even what I -owed to my dearest friendsfrom openly shewing that I was -VERY unhappy." -Marianne was quite subdued. -"Oh Elinor," she cried, "you have made me hate -myself for ever.How barbarous have I been to you -you, who have been my only comfort, who have borne with me -in all my misery, who have seemed to be only suffering -for meIs this my gratitude?Is this the only return I -can make you?Because your merit cries out upon myself, -I have been trying to do it away." -The tenderest caresses followed this confession. -In such a frame of mind as she was now in, Elinor had -no difficulty in obtaining from her whatever promise -she required and at her request, Marianne engaged -never to speak of the affair to any one with the least -appearance of bitternessto meet Lucy without betraying -the smallest increase of dislike to herand even to see -Edward himself, if chance should bring them together, -without any diminution of her usual cordiality. -These were great concessionsbut where Marianne felt -that she had injured, no reparation could be too much -for her to make. -She performed her promise of being discreet, -to admiration.She attended to all that Mrs. Jennings -had to say upon the subject, with an unchanging complexion, -dissented from her in nothing, and was heard three -times to say, "Yes, ma'am."She listened to her praise -of Lucy with only moving from one chair to another, -and when Mrs. Jennings talked of Edward's affection, -it cost her only a spasm in her throat.Such advances -towards heroism in her sister, made Elinor feel equal -to any thing herself. -The next morning brought a farther trial of it, -in a visit from their brother, who came with a most serious -aspect to talk over the dreadful affair, and bring them -news of his wife. -"You have heard, I suppose," said he with great solemnity, -as soon as he was seated, "of the very shocking discovery -that took place under our roof yesterday." -They all looked their assent it seemed too awful -a moment for speech. -"Your sister," he continued, "has suffered dreadfully. -Mrs. Ferrars tooin short it has been a scene of such -complicated distressbut I will hope that the storm may -be weathered without our being any of us quite overcome. -Poor Fanny she was in hysterics all yesterday. -But I would not alarm you too much. Donavan says there -is nothing materially to be apprehended her constitution -is a good one, and her resolution equal to any thing. -She has borne it all, with the fortitude of an angel -She says she never shall think well of anybody again -and one cannot wonder at it, after being so deceived -meeting with such ingratitude, where so much kindness -had been shewn, so much confidence had been placed It -was quite out of the benevolence of her heart, that she -had asked these young women to her house merely because -she thought they deserved some attention, were harmless, -wellbehaved girls, and would be pleasant companions -for otherwise we both wished very much to have invited you -and Marianne to be with us, while your kind friend there, -was attending her daughter. And now to be so rewarded -'I wish, with all my heart,' says poor Fanny in her -affectionate way, 'that we had asked your sisters instead -of them.'" -Here he stopped to be thanked which being done, -he went on. -"What poor Mrs. Ferrars suffered, when first Fanny -broke it to her, is not to be described. While she with -the truest affection had been planning a most eligible -connection for him, was it to be supposed that he could -be all the time secretly engaged to another personsuch -a suspicion could never have entered her head If she -suspected ANY prepossession elsewhere, it could not be -in THAT quarter. 'THERE, to be sure,' said she, 'I might -have thought myself safe.' She was quite in an agony. -We consulted together, however, as to what should be done, -and at last she determined to send for Edward. -He came. But I am sorry to relate what ensued. -All that Mrs. Ferrars could say to make him put an end -to the engagement, assisted too as you may well suppose -by my arguments, and Fanny's entreaties, was of -no avail. Duty, affection, every thing was disregarded. -I never thought Edward so stubborn, so unfeeling before. -His mother explained to him her liberal designs, in case -of his marrying Miss Morton told him she would settle on -him the Norfolk estate, which, clear of landtax, brings -in a good thousand ayear offered even, when matters -grew desperate, to make it twelve hundred and in opposition -to this, if he still persisted in this low connection, -represented to him the certain penury that must attend -the match. His own two thousand pounds she protested -should be his all she would never see him again and so far -would she be from affording him the smallest assistance, -that if he were to enter into any profession with a view -of better support, she would do all in her power to prevent -him advancing in it." -Here Marianne, in an ecstasy of indignation, -clapped her hands together, and cried, "Gracious God -can this be possible" -"Well may you wonder, Marianne," replied her brother, -"at the obstinacy which could resist such arguments as these. -Your exclamation is very natural." -Marianne was going to retort, but she remembered -her promises, and forbore. -"All this, however," he continued, "was urged in vain. -Edward said very little but what he did say, was in -the most determined manner. Nothing should prevail on -him to give up his engagement. He would stand to it, -cost him what it might." -"Then," cried Mrs. Jennings with blunt sincerity, -no longer able to be silent, "he has acted like an honest -man I beg your pardon, Mr. Dashwood, but if he had -done otherwise, I should have thought him a rascal. -I have some little concern in the business, as well -as yourself, for Lucy Steele is my cousin, and I believe -there is not a better kind of girl in the world, nor one -who more deserves a good husband." -John Dashwood was greatly astonished but his nature -was calm, not open to provocation, and he never wished -to offend anybody, especially anybody of good fortune. -He therefore replied, without any resentment, -"I would by no means speak disrespectfully of any -relation of yours, madam. Miss Lucy Steele is, I dare say, -a very deserving young woman, but in the present case -you know, the connection must be impossible. -And to have entered into a secret engagement with a -young man under her uncle's care, the son of a woman -especially of such very large fortune as Mrs. Ferrars, -is perhaps, altogether a little extraordinary. In short, -I do not mean to reflect upon the behaviour of any person -whom you have a regard for, Mrs. Jennings. We all wish -her extremely happy and Mrs. Ferrars's conduct throughout -the whole, has been such as every conscientious, good mother, -in like circumstances, would adopt. It has been dignified -and liberal. Edward has drawn his own lot, and I fear -it will be a bad one." -Marianne sighed out her similar apprehension -and Elinor's heart wrung for the feelings of Edward, -while braving his mother's threats, for a woman who could -not reward him. -"Well, sir," said Mrs. Jennings, "and how did it end?" -"I am sorry to say, ma'am, in a most unhappy rupture -Edward is dismissed for ever from his mother's notice. -He left her house yesterday, but where he is gone, or whether -he is still in town, I do not know for WE of course can -make no inquiry." -"Poor young manand what is to become of him?" -"What, indeed, ma'am It is a melancholy consideration. -Born to the prospect of such affluence I cannot conceive -a situation more deplorable. The interest of two thousand -poundshow can a man live on it?and when to that is added -the recollection, that he might, but for his own folly, -within three months have been in the receipt of two -thousand, five hundred ayear for Miss Morton has -thirty thousand pounds, I cannot picture to myself -a more wretched condition. We must all feel for him -and the more so, because it is totally out of our power -to assist him." -"Poor young man" cried Mrs. Jennings, "I am sure -he should be very welcome to bed and board at my house -and so I would tell him if I could see him. It is not fit -that he should be living about at his own charge now, -at lodgings and taverns." -Elinor's heart thanked her for such kindness towards Edward, -though she could not forbear smiling at the form of it. -"If he would only have done as well by himself," -said John Dashwood, "as all his friends were disposed to do -by him, he might now have been in his proper situation, -and would have wanted for nothing. But as it is, it must -be out of anybody's power to assist him. And there is one -thing more preparing against him, which must be worse than -allhis mother has determined, with a very natural kind -of spirit, to settle THAT estate upon Robert immediately, -which might have been Edward's, on proper conditions. -I left her this morning with her lawyer, talking over -the business." -"Well" said Mrs. Jennings, "that is HER revenge. -Everybody has a way of their own. But I don't think mine -would be, to make one son independent, because another had -plagued me." -Marianne got up and walked about the room. -"Can anything be more galling to the spirit of a man," -continued John, "than to see his younger brother in -possession of an estate which might have been his own? -Poor Edward I feel for him sincerely." -A few minutes more spent in the same kind of effusion, -concluded his visit and with repeated assurances to his -sisters that he really believed there was no material -danger in Fanny's indisposition, and that they need -not therefore be very uneasy about it, he went away -leaving the three ladies unanimous in their sentiments -on the present occasion, as far at least as it regarded -Mrs. Ferrars's conduct, the Dashwoods', and Edward's. -Marianne's indignation burst forth as soon as he -quitted the room and as her vehemence made reserve -impossible in Elinor, and unnecessary in Mrs. Jennings, -they all joined in a very spirited critique upon the party. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Jennings was very warm in her praise of Edward's -conduct, but only Elinor and Marianne understood its -true merit. THEY only knew how little he had had to tempt -him to be disobedient, and how small was the consolation, -beyond the consciousness of doing right, that could -remain to him in the loss of friends and fortune. -Elinor gloried in his integrity and Marianne forgave all -his offences in compassion for his punishment. But though -confidence between them was, by this public discovery, -restored to its proper state, it was not a subject on -which either of them were fond of dwelling when alone. -Elinor avoided it upon principle, as tending to fix still -more upon her thoughts, by the too warm, too positive -assurances of Marianne, that belief of Edward's continued -affection for herself which she rather wished to do away -and Marianne's courage soon failed her, in trying -to converse upon a topic which always left her more -dissatisfied with herself than ever, by the comparison -it necessarily produced between Elinor's conduct and her own. -She felt all the force of that comparison but not -as her sister had hoped, to urge her to exertion now -she felt it with all the pain of continual selfreproach, -regretted most bitterly that she had never exerted -herself before but it brought only the torture of penitence, -without the hope of amendment. Her mind was so much weakened -that she still fancied present exertion impossible, -and therefore it only dispirited her more. -Nothing new was heard by them, for a day or two afterwards, -of affairs in Harley Street, or Bartlett's Buildings. -But though so much of the matter was known to them already, -that Mrs. Jennings might have had enough to do in spreading -that knowledge farther, without seeking after more, -she had resolved from the first to pay a visit of comfort -and inquiry to her cousins as soon as she could -and nothing but the hindrance of more visitors than usual, -had prevented her going to them within that time. -The third day succeeding their knowledge of the -particulars, was so fine, so beautiful a Sunday as to draw -many to Kensington Gardens, though it was only the second -week in March. Mrs. Jennings and Elinor were of the number -but Marianne, who knew that the Willoughbys were again -in town, and had a constant dread of meeting them, -chose rather to stay at home, than venture into so public -a place. -An intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Jennings joined -them soon after they entered the Gardens, and Elinor was -not sorry that by her continuing with them, and engaging -all Mrs. Jennings's conversation, she was herself left -to quiet reflection. She saw nothing of the Willoughbys, -nothing of Edward, and for some time nothing of anybody -who could by any chance whether grave or gay, be interesting -to her. But at last she found herself with some surprise, -accosted by Miss Steele, who, though looking rather shy, -expressed great satisfaction in meeting them, and on receiving -encouragement from the particular kindness of Mrs. Jennings, -left her own party for a short time, to join their's. -Mrs. Jennings immediately whispered to Elinor, -"Get it all out of her, my dear. She will tell you -any thing if you ask. You see I cannot leave Mrs. Clarke." -It was lucky, however, for Mrs. Jennings's curiosity -and Elinor's too, that she would tell any thing WITHOUT -being asked for nothing would otherwise have been learnt. -"I am so glad to meet you" said Miss Steele, -taking her familiarly by the arm"for I wanted to see you -of all things in the world." And then lowering her voice, -"I suppose Mrs. Jennings has heard all about it. -Is she angry?" -"Not at all, I believe, with you." -"That is a good thing. And Lady Middleton, is SHE angry?" -"I cannot suppose it possible that she should." -"I am monstrous glad of it. Good gracious I have -had such a time of it I never saw Lucy in such a rage -in my life. She vowed at first she would never trim me -up a new bonnet, nor do any thing else for me again, -so long as she lived but now she is quite come to, -and we are as good friends as ever. Look, she made me -this bow to my hat, and put in the feather last night. -There now, YOU are going to laugh at me too. But why -should not I wear pink ribbons? I do not care if it IS -the Doctor's favourite colour. I am sure, for my part, -I should never have known he DID like it better than -any other colour, if he had not happened to say so. -My cousins have been so plaguing me I declare sometimes -I do not know which way to look before them." -She had wandered away to a subject on which Elinor -had nothing to say, and therefore soon judged it expedient -to find her way back again to the first. -"Well, but Miss Dashwood," speaking triumphantly, -"people may say what they chuse about Mr. Ferrars's -declaring he would not have Lucy, for it is no such thing -I can tell you and it is quite a shame for such illnatured -reports to be spread abroad. Whatever Lucy might think -about it herself, you know, it was no business of other -people to set it down for certain." -"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before, -I assure you," said Elinor. -"Oh, did not you? But it WAS said, I know, very well, -and by more than one for Miss Godby told Miss Sparks, -that nobody in their senses could expect Mr. Ferrars -to give up a woman like Miss Morton, with thirty thousand -pounds to her fortune, for Lucy Steele that had -nothing at all and I had it from Miss Sparks myself. -And besides that, my cousin Richard said himself, -that when it came to the point he was afraid Mr. Ferrars -would be off and when Edward did not come near us -for three days, I could not tell what to think myself -and I believe in my heart Lucy gave it up all for lost -for we came away from your brother's Wednesday, -and we saw nothing of him not all Thursday, Friday, -and Saturday, and did not know what was become of him. -Once Lucy thought to write to him, but then her spirits -rose against that. However this morning he came just -as we came home from church and then it all came out, -how he had been sent for Wednesday to Harley Street, -and been talked to by his mother and all of them, -and how he had declared before them all that he loved -nobody but Lucy, and nobody but Lucy would he have. -And how he had been so worried by what passed, -that as soon as he had went away from his mother's house, -he had got upon his horse, and rid into the country, -some where or other and how he had stayed about at an inn -all Thursday and Friday, on purpose to get the better -of it. And after thinking it all over and over again, -he said, it seemed to him as if, now he had no fortune, -and no nothing at all, it would be quite unkind to keep -her on to the engagement, because it must be for her loss, -for he had nothing but two thousand pounds, and no hope -of any thing else and if he was to go into orders, -as he had some thoughts, he could get nothing but a curacy, -and how was they to live upon that?He could not bear -to think of her doing no better, and so he begged, -if she had the least mind for it, to put an end to the -matter directly, and leave him shift for himself. -I heard him say all this as plain as could possibly be. -And it was entirely for HER sake, and upon HER account, -that he said a word about being off, and not upon his own. -I will take my oath he never dropt a syllable of being -tired of her, or of wishing to marry Miss Morton, or any -thing like it. But, to be sure, Lucy would not give -ear to such kind of talking so she told him directly -with a great deal about sweet and love, you know, -and all thatOh, la one can't repeat such kind of things -you knowshe told him directly, she had not the least -mind in the world to be off, for she could live with him -upon a trifle, and how little so ever he might have, -she should be very glad to have it all, you know, -or something of the kind. So then he was monstrous happy, -and talked on some time about what they should do, -and they agreed he should take orders directly, -and they must wait to be married till he got a living. -And just then I could not hear any more, for my cousin -called from below to tell me Mrs. Richardson was come in -her coach, and would take one of us to Kensington Gardens -so I was forced to go into the room and interrupt them, -to ask Lucy if she would like to go, but she did not -care to leave Edward so I just run up stairs and put -on a pair of silk stockings and came off with the Richardsons." -"I do not understand what you mean by interrupting them," -said Elinor "you were all in the same room together, -were not you?" -"No, indeed, not us. La Miss Dashwood, do you -think people make love when any body else is by? Oh, -for shameTo be sure you must know better than that. -Laughing affectedly.No, no they were shut up in the -drawingroom together, and all I heard was only by listening -at the door." -"How" cried Elinor "have you been repeating to me -what you only learnt yourself by listening at the door? -I am sorry I did not know it before for I certainly -would not have suffered you to give me particulars of a -conversation which you ought not to have known yourself. -How could you behave so unfairly by your sister?" -"Oh, la there is nothing in THAT. I only stood at -the door, and heard what I could. And I am sure Lucy would -have done just the same by me for a year or two back, -when Martha Sharpe and I had so many secrets together, -she never made any bones of hiding in a closet, or behind -a chimneyboard, on purpose to hear what we said." -Elinor tried to talk of something else but Miss -Steele could not be kept beyond a couple of minutes, -from what was uppermost in her mind. -"Edward talks of going to Oxford soon," said she -"but now he is lodging at No. , Pall Mall. What an -illnatured woman his mother is, an't she? And your -brother and sister were not very kind However, -I shan't say anything against them to YOU and to be sure -they did send us home in their own chariot, which -was more than I looked for. And for my part, I was all -in a fright for fear your sister should ask us for the -huswifes she had gave us a day or two before but, however, -nothing was said about them, and I took care to keep mine -out of sight. Edward have got some business at Oxford, -he says so he must go there for a time and after THAT, -as soon as he can light upon a Bishop, he will be ordained. -I wonder what curacy he will getGood gracious -giggling as she spoke I'd lay my life I know what -my cousins will say, when they hear of it. They will -tell me I should write to the Doctor, to get Edward -the curacy of his new living. I know they will but I am -sure I would not do such a thing for all the world. -'La' I shall say directly, 'I wonder how you could think -of such a thing? I write to the Doctor, indeed'" -"Well," said Elinor, "it is a comfort to be prepared -against the worst. You have got your answer ready." -Miss Steele was going to reply on the same subject, -but the approach of her own party made another more necessary. -"Oh, la here come the Richardsons. I had a vast deal -more to say to you, but I must not stay away from them not -any longer. I assure you they are very genteel people. -He makes a monstrous deal of money, and they keep their -own coach. I have not time to speak to Mrs. Jennings about -it myself, but pray tell her I am quite happy to hear she -is not in anger against us, and Lady Middleton the same -and if anything should happen to take you and your -sister away, and Mrs. Jennings should want company, -I am sure we should be very glad to come and stay with her -for as long a time as she likes. I suppose Lady Middleton -won't ask us any more this bout. Goodby I am sorry -Miss Marianne was not here. Remember me kindly to her. -La if you have not got your spotted muslin onI wonder -you was not afraid of its being torn." -Such was her parting concern for after this, she had -time only to pay her farewell compliments to Mrs. Jennings, -before her company was claimed by Mrs. Richardson -and Elinor was left in possession of knowledge which -might feed her powers of reflection some time, though she -had learnt very little more than what had been already -foreseen and foreplanned in her own mind. Edward's marriage -with Lucy was as firmly determined on, and the time -of its taking place remained as absolutely uncertain, -as she had concluded it would beevery thing depended, -exactly after her expectation, on his getting that preferment, -of which, at present, there seemed not the smallest chance. -As soon as they returned to the carriage, -Mrs. Jennings was eager for information but as Elinor -wished to spread as little as possible intelligence -that had in the first place been so unfairly obtained, -she confined herself to the brief repetition of such -simple particulars, as she felt assured that Lucy, -for the sake of her own consequence, would choose -to have known. The continuance of their engagement, -and the means that were able to be taken for promoting -its end, was all her communication and this produced -from Mrs. Jennings the following natural remark. -"Wait for his having a livingay, we all know how -THAT will endthey will wait a twelvemonth, and finding -no good comes of it, will set down upon a curacy of fifty -pounds ayear, with the interest of his two thousand pounds, -and what little matter Mr. Steele and Mr. Pratt can -give her.Then they will have a child every year and -Lord help 'em how poor they will beI must see -what I can give them towards furnishing their house. -Two maids and two men, indeedas I talked of t'other -day.No, no, they must get a stout girl of all works. -Betty's sister would never do for them NOW." -The next morning brought Elinor a letter by the -twopenny post from Lucy herself. It was as follows -"Bartlett's Building, March. -"I hope my dear Miss Dashwood will excuse the -liberty I take of writing to her but I know your -friendship for me will make you pleased to hear such -a good account of myself and my dear Edward, after -all the troubles we have went through lately, -therefore will make no more apologies, but proceed -to say that, thank God though we have suffered -dreadfully, we are both quite well now, and as happy -as we must always be in one another's love. We have -had great trials, and great persecutions, but -however, at the same time, gratefully acknowledge -many friends, yourself not the least among them, -whose great kindness I shall always thankfully -remember, as will Edward too, who I have told of -it. I am sure you will be glad to hear, as likewise -dear Mrs. Jennings, I spent two happy hours with -him yesterday afternoon, he would not hear of our -parting, though earnestly did I, as I thought my -duty required, urge him to it for prudence sake, -and would have parted for ever on the spot, would -he consent to it but he said it should never be, -he did not regard his mother's anger, while he could -have my affections our prospects are not very -bright, to be sure, but we must wait, and hope for -the best he will be ordained shortly and should -it ever be in your power to recommend him to any -body that has a living to bestow, am very sure you -will not forget us, and dear Mrs. Jennings too, -trust she will speak a good word for us to Sir John, -or Mr. Palmer, or any friend that may be able to -assist us.Poor Anne was much to blame for what -she did, but she did it for the best, so I say -nothing hope Mrs. Jennings won't think it too much -trouble to give us a call, should she come this way -any morning, 'twould be a great kindness, and my -cousins would be proud to know her.My paper reminds -me to conclude and begging to be most gratefully -and respectfully remembered to her, and to Sir John, -and Lady Middleton, and the dear children, when you -chance to see them, and love to Miss Marianne, -"I am, c." -As soon as Elinor had finished it, she performed -what she concluded to be its writer's real design, -by placing it in the hands of Mrs. Jennings, who read it -aloud with many comments of satisfaction and praise. -"Very well indeedhow prettily she writesaye, -that was quite proper to let him be off if he would. -That was just like Lucy.Poor soul I wish I COULD get -him a living, with all my heart.She calls me dear -Mrs. Jennings, you see. She is a goodhearted girl -as ever lived.Very well upon my word. That sentence -is very prettily turned. Yes, yes, I will go and see her, -sure enough. How attentive she is, to think of every -bodyThank you, my dear, for shewing it me. It is -as pretty a letter as ever I saw, and does Lucy's head -and heart great credit." -CHAPTER -The Miss Dashwoods had now been rather more than -two months in town, and Marianne's impatience to be gone -increased every day. She sighed for the air, the liberty, -the quiet of the country and fancied that if any place -could give her ease, Barton must do it. Elinor was hardly -less anxious than herself for their removal, and only so much -less bent on its being effected immediately, as that she -was conscious of the difficulties of so long a journey, -which Marianne could not be brought to acknowledge. -She began, however, seriously to turn her thoughts towards -its accomplishment, and had already mentioned their wishes -to their kind hostess, who resisted them with all the -eloquence of her goodwill, when a plan was suggested, -which, though detaining them from home yet a few weeks -longer, appeared to Elinor altogether much more eligible -than any other. The Palmers were to remove to Cleveland -about the end of March, for the Easter holidays -and Mrs. Jennings, with both her friends, received a very -warm invitation from Charlotte to go with them. This would -not, in itself, have been sufficient for the delicacy of -Miss Dashwoodbut it was inforced with so much real -politeness by Mr. Palmer himself, as, joined to the very -great amendment of his manners towards them since her -sister had been known to be unhappy, induced her to accept -it with pleasure. -When she told Marianne what she had done, however, -her first reply was not very auspicious. -"Cleveland"she cried, with great agitation. -"No, I cannot go to Cleveland." -"You forget," said Elinor gently, "that its situation -is not...that it is not in the neighbourhood of..." -"But it is in Somersetshire.I cannot go -into Somersetshire.There, where I looked forward -to going...No, Elinor, you cannot expect me to go there." -Elinor would not argue upon the propriety of overcoming -such feelingsshe only endeavoured to counteract them by -working on othersrepresented it, therefore, as a measure -which would fix the time of her returning to that dear mother, -whom she so much wished to see, in a more eligible, -more comfortable manner, than any other plan could do, -and perhaps without any greater delay. From Cleveland, -which was within a few miles of Bristol, the distance to -Barton was not beyond one day, though a long day's journey -and their mother's servant might easily come there to attend -them down and as there could be no occasion of their -staying above a week at Cleveland, they might now be at -home in little more than three weeks' time. As Marianne's -affection for her mother was sincere, it must triumph -with little difficulty, over the imaginary evils she had started. -Mrs. Jennings was so far from being weary of her guest, -that she pressed them very earnestly to return with her again -from Cleveland. Elinor was grateful for the attention, -but it could not alter her design and their mother's -concurrence being readily gained, every thing relative -to their return was arranged as far as it could be -and Marianne found some relief in drawing up a statement -of the hours that were yet to divide her from Barton. -"Ah Colonel, I do not know what you and I shall -do without the Miss Dashwoods"was Mrs. Jennings's -address to him when he first called on her, after their -leaving her was settled"for they are quite resolved -upon going home from the Palmersand how forlorn we -shall be, when I come backLord we shall sit and gape -at one another as dull as two cats." -Perhaps Mrs. Jennings was in hopes, by this vigorous -sketch of their future ennui, to provoke him to make -that offer, which might give himself an escape from it -and if so, she had soon afterwards good reason to think -her object gained for, on Elinor's moving to the window -to take more expeditiously the dimensions of a print, -which she was going to copy for her friend, he followed -her to it with a look of particular meaning, and conversed -with her there for several minutes. The effect of his -discourse on the lady too, could not escape her observation, -for though she was too honorable to listen, and had even -changed her seat, on purpose that she might NOT hear, -to one close by the piano forte on which Marianne -was playing, she could not keep herself from seeing -that Elinor changed colour, attended with agitation, -and was too intent on what he said to pursue her employment. -Still farther in confirmation of her hopes, in the interval -of Marianne's turning from one lesson to another, -some words of the Colonel's inevitably reached her ear, -in which he seemed to be apologising for the badness -of his house. This set the matter beyond a doubt. -She wondered, indeed, at his thinking it necessary -to do so but supposed it to be the proper etiquette. -What Elinor said in reply she could not distinguish, -but judged from the motion of her lips, that she did -not think THAT any material objectionand Mrs. Jennings -commended her in her heart for being so honest. -They then talked on for a few minutes longer without her -catching a syllable, when another lucky stop in Marianne's -performance brought her these words in the Colonel's calm voice, -"I am afraid it cannot take place very soon." -Astonished and shocked at so unloverlike a speech, -she was almost ready to cry out, "Lord what should -hinder it?"but checking her desire, confined herself -to this silent ejaculation. -"This is very strangesure he need not wait to be older." -This delay on the Colonel's side, however, did not -seem to offend or mortify his fair companion in the least, -for on their breaking up the conference soon afterwards, -and moving different ways, Mrs. Jennings very plainly heard -Elinor say, and with a voice which shewed her to feel what she said, -"I shall always think myself very much obliged to you." -Mrs. Jennings was delighted with her gratitude, -and only wondered that after hearing such a sentence, -the Colonel should be able to take leave of them, as he -immediately did, with the utmost sangfroid, and go away -without making her any replyShe had not thought her old -friend could have made so indifferent a suitor. -What had really passed between them was to this effect. -"I have heard," said he, with great compassion, -"of the injustice your friend Mr. Ferrars has suffered -from his family for if I understand the matter right, -he has been entirely cast off by them for persevering -in his engagement with a very deserving young woman. -Have I been rightly informed?Is it so?" -Elinor told him that it was. -"The cruelty, the impolitic cruelty,"he replied, -with great feeling,"of dividing, or attempting to divide, -two young people long attached to each other, is terrible. -Mrs. Ferrars does not know what she may be doingwhat -she may drive her son to. I have seen Mr. Ferrars two -or three times in Harley Street, and am much pleased -with him. He is not a young man with whom one can -be intimately acquainted in a short time, but I have -seen enough of him to wish him well for his own sake, -and as a friend of yours, I wish it still more. -I understand that he intends to take orders. Will you -be so good as to tell him that the living of Delaford, -now just vacant, as I am informed by this day's post, -is his, if he think it worth his acceptancebut THAT, -perhaps, so unfortunately circumstanced as he is now, -it may be nonsense to appear to doubt I only wish it -were more valuable. It is a rectory, but a small one -the late incumbent, I believe, did not make more than - L per annum, and though it is certainly capable -of improvement, I fear, not to such an amount as -to afford him a very comfortable income. Such as it is, -however, my pleasure in presenting him to it, -will be very great. Pray assure him of it." -Elinor's astonishment at this commission could -hardly have been greater, had the Colonel been really -making her an offer of his hand. The preferment, -which only two days before she had considered as hopeless -for Edward, was already provided to enable him to marry -and SHE, of all people in the world, was fixed on to -bestow itHer emotion was such as Mrs. Jennings had -attributed to a very different causebut whatever minor -feelings less pure, less pleasing, might have a share -in that emotion, her esteem for the general benevolence, -and her gratitude for the particular friendship, -which together prompted Colonel Brandon to this act, -were strongly felt, and warmly expressed. She thanked him -for it with all her heart, spoke of Edward's principles and -disposition with that praise which she knew them to deserve -and promised to undertake the commission with pleasure, -if it were really his wish to put off so agreeable an office -to another. But at the same time, she could not help -thinking that no one could so well perform it as himself. -It was an office in short, from which, unwilling to give -Edward the pain of receiving an obligation from HER, -she would have been very glad to be spared herself -but Colonel Brandon, on motives of equal delicacy, -declining it likewise, still seemed so desirous of its being -given through her means, that she would not on any account -make farther opposition. Edward, she believed, was still in -town, -and fortunately she had heard his address from Miss Steele. -She could undertake therefore to inform him of it, -in the course of the day. After this had been settled, -Colonel Brandon began to talk of his own advantage -in securing so respectable and agreeable a neighbour, -and THEN it was that he mentioned with regret, that the -house was small and indifferentan evil which Elinor, -as Mrs. Jennings had supposed her to do, made very light of, -at least as far as regarded its size. -"The smallness of the house," said she, -"I cannot imagine any inconvenience to them, -for it will be in proportion to their family and income." -By which the Colonel was surprised to find that SHE -was considering Mr. Ferrars's marriage as the certain -consequence of the presentation for he did not suppose it -possible that Delaford living could supply such an income, -as anybody in his style of life would venture to settle on -and he said so. -"This little rectory CAN do no more than make Mr. Ferrars -comfortable as a bachelor it cannot enable him to marry. -I am sorry to say that my patronage ends with this -and my interest is hardly more extensive. If, however, -by an unforeseen chance it should be in my power to serve -him farther, I must think very differently of him -from what I now do, if I am not as ready to be useful -to him then as I sincerely wish I could be at present. -What I am now doing indeed, seems nothing at all, -since it can advance him so little towards what must -be his principal, his only object of happiness. -His marriage must still be a distant goodat least, -I am afraid it cannot take place very soon." -Such was the sentence which, when misunderstood, -so justly offended the delicate feelings of Mrs. Jennings -but after this narration of what really passed between -Colonel Brandon and Elinor, while they stood at the window, -the gratitude expressed by the latter on their parting, may -perhaps appear in general, not less reasonably excited, -nor less properly worded than if it had arisen from -an offer of marriage. -CHAPTER -"Well, Miss Dashwood," said Mrs. Jennings, -sagaciously smiling, as soon as the gentleman had withdrawn, -"I do not ask you what the Colonel has been saying to you -for though, upon my honour, I TRIED to keep out of hearing, -I could not help catching enough to understand his business. -And I assure you I never was better pleased in my life, -and I wish you joy of it with all my heart." -"Thank you, ma'am," said Elinor. "It is a matter -of great joy to me and I feel the goodness of Colonel -Brandon most sensibly. There are not many men who would -act as he has done. Few people who have so compassionate -a heart I never was more astonished in my life." -"Lord my dear, you are very modest. I an't the least -astonished at it in the world, for I have often thought -of late, there was nothing more likely to happen." -"You judged from your knowledge of the Colonel's -general benevolence but at least you could not foresee -that the opportunity would so very soon occur." -"Opportunity" repeated Mrs. Jennings"Oh as to that, -when a man has once made up his mind to such a thing, -somehow or other he will soon find an opportunity. -Well, my dear, I wish you joy of it again and again -and if ever there was a happy couple in the world, I think -I shall soon know where to look for them." -"You mean to go to Delaford after them I suppose," -said Elinor, with a faint smile. -"Aye, my dear, that I do, indeed. And as to the house -being a bad one, I do not know what the Colonel would be at, -for it is as good a one as ever I saw." -"He spoke of its being out of repair." -"Well, and whose fault is that? why don't he repair it? -who should do it but himself?" -They were interrupted by the servant's coming in to -announce the carriage being at the door and Mrs. Jennings -immediately preparing to go, said, -"Well, my dear, I must be gone before I have had half -my talk out. But, however, we may have it all over in -the evening for we shall be quite alone. I do not ask -you to go with me, for I dare say your mind is too full -of the matter to care for company and besides, you must -long to tell your sister all about it." -Marianne had left the room before the conversation began. -"Certainly, ma'am, I shall tell Marianne of it -but I shall not mention it at present to any body else." -"Oh very well," said Mrs. Jennings rather disappointed. -"Then you would not have me tell it to Lucy, for I think -of going as far as Holborn today." -"No, ma'am, not even Lucy if you please. -One day's delay will not be very material and till I -have written to Mr. Ferrars, I think it ought not to be -mentioned to any body else. I shall do THAT directly. -It is of importance that no time should be lost with him, -for he will of course have much to do relative to -his ordination." -This speech at first puzzled Mrs. Jennings exceedingly. -Why Mr. Ferrars was to have been written to about it -in such a hurry, she could not immediately comprehend. -A few moments' reflection, however, produced a very happy idea, -and she exclaimed -"Oh, hoI understand you. Mr. Ferrars is to be -the man. Well, so much the better for him. Ay, to be sure, -he must be ordained in readiness and I am very glad -to find things are so forward between you. But, my dear, -is not this rather out of character? Should not the Colonel -write himself?sure, he is the proper person." -Elinor did not quite understand the beginning of -Mrs. Jennings's speech, neither did she think it worth -inquiring into and therefore only replied to its conclusion. -"Colonel Brandon is so delicate a man, that he rather -wished any one to announce his intentions to Mr. Ferrars -than himself." -"And so YOU are forced to do it. Well THAT is an odd -kind of delicacy However, I will not disturb you seeing -her preparing to write. You know your own concerns best. -So goodby, my dear. I have not heard of any thing to -please me so well since Charlotte was brought to bed." -And away she went but returning again in a moment, -"I have just been thinking of Betty's sister, my dear. -I should be very glad to get her so good a mistress. -But whether she would do for a lady's maid, I am sure I -can't tell. She is an excellent housemaid, and works -very well at her needle. However, you will think of all -that at your leisure." -"Certainly, ma'am," replied Elinor, not hearing -much of what she said, and more anxious to be alone, -than to be mistress of the subject. -How she should beginhow she should express -herself in her note to Edward, was now all her concern. -The particular circumstances between them made -a difficulty of that which to any other person would -have been the easiest thing in the world but she -equally feared to say too much or too little, and sat -deliberating over her paper, with the pen in her hand, -till broken in on by the entrance of Edward himself. -He had met Mrs. Jennings at the door in her way to -the carriage, as he came to leave his farewell card and she, -after apologising for not returning herself, had obliged -him to enter, by saying that Miss Dashwood was above, -and wanted to speak with him on very particular business. -Elinor had just been congratulating herself, -in the midst of her perplexity, that however difficult it -might be to express herself properly by letter, it was -at least preferable to giving the information by word -of mouth, when her visitor entered, to force her upon this -greatest exertion of all. Her astonishment and confusion -were very great on his so sudden appearance. She had -not seen him before since his engagement became public, -and therefore not since his knowing her to be acquainted -with it which, with the consciousness of what she -had been thinking of, and what she had to tell him, -made her feel particularly uncomfortable for some minutes. -He too was much distressed and they sat down together -in a most promising state of embarrassment.Whether he -had asked her pardon for his intrusion on first coming -into the room, he could not recollect but determining -to be on the safe side, he made his apology in form -as soon as he could say any thing, after taking a chair. -"Mrs. Jennings told me," said he, "that you wished -to speak with me, at least I understood her soor I -certainly should not have intruded on you in such a manner -though at the same time, I should have been extremely -sorry to leave London without seeing you and your sister -especially as it will most likely be some timeit -is not probable that I should soon have the pleasure -of meeting you again. I go to Oxford tomorrow." -"You would not have gone, however," said Elinor, -recovering herself, and determined to get over what she -so much dreaded as soon as possible, "without receiving -our good wishes, even if we had not been able to give them -in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she said. -I have something of consequence to inform you of, -which I was on the point of communicating by paper. -I am charged with a most agreeable office breathing -rather faster than usual as she spoke. Colonel Brandon, -who was here only ten minutes ago, has desired me to say, -that understanding you mean to take orders, he has -great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford -now just vacant, and only wishes it were more valuable. -Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable -and welljudging a friend, and to join in his wish that -the livingit is about two hundred ayearwere much -more considerable, and such as might better enable you -toas might be more than a temporary accommodation to -yourselfsuch, in short, as might establish all your views -of happiness." -What Edward felt, as he could not say it himself, -it cannot be expected that any one else should say for him. -He LOOKED all the astonishment which such unexpected, -such unthoughtof information could not fail of exciting -but he said only these two words, -"Colonel Brandon" -"Yes," continued Elinor, gathering more resolution, -as some of the worst was over, "Colonel Brandon means -it as a testimony of his concern for what has lately -passedfor the cruel situation in which the unjustifiable -conduct of your family has placed youa concern -which I am sure Marianne, myself, and all your friends, -must share and likewise as a proof of his high esteem -for your general character, and his particular approbation -of your behaviour on the present occasion." -"Colonel Brandon give ME a livingCan it be possible?" -"The unkindness of your own relations has made you -astonished to find friendship any where." -"No," replied be, with sudden consciousness, "not to -find it in YOU for I cannot be ignorant that to you, -to your goodness, I owe it all.I feel itI would express -it if I couldbut, as you well know, I am no orator." -"You are very much mistaken. I do assure you -that you owe it entirely, at least almost entirely, -to your own merit, and Colonel Brandon's discernment -of it. I have had no hand in it. I did not even know, -till I understood his design, that the living was vacant -nor had it ever occurred to me that he might have -had such a living in his gift. As a friend of mine, -of my family, he may, perhapsindeed I know he HAS, -still greater pleasure in bestowing it but, upon my word, -you owe nothing to my solicitation." -Truth obliged her to acknowledge some small share -in the action, but she was at the same time so unwilling -to appear as the benefactress of Edward, that she acknowledged -it with hesitation which probably contributed to fix -that suspicion in his mind which had recently entered it. -For a short time he sat deep in thought, after Elinor had ceased -to speakat last, and as if it were rather an effort, he said, -"Colonel Brandon seems a man of great worth and respectability. -I have always heard him spoken of as such, and your brother -I know esteems him highly. He is undoubtedly a sensible man, -and in his manners perfectly the gentleman." -"Indeed," replied Elinor, "I believe that you will find him, -on farther acquaintance, all that you have heard him to be, -and as you will be such very near neighbours for I understand -the parsonage is almost close to the mansionhouse, -it is particularly important that he SHOULD be all this." -Edward made no answer but when she had turned -away her head, gave her a look so serious, so earnest, -so uncheerful, as seemed to say, that he might hereafter wish -the distance between the parsonage and the mansionhouse -much greater. -"Colonel Brandon, I think, lodges in St. James Street," -said he, soon afterwards, rising from his chair. -Elinor told him the number of the house. -"I must hurry away then, to give him those thanks -which you will not allow me to give YOU to assure him -that he has made me a veryan exceedingly happy man." -Elinor did not offer to detain him and they parted, -with a very earnest assurance on HER side of her unceasing -good wishes for his happiness in every change of situation -that might befall him on HIS, with rather an attempt to -return the same good will, than the power of expressing it. -"When I see him again," said Elinor to herself, -as the door shut him out, "I shall see him the husband -of Lucy." -And with this pleasing anticipation, she sat down -to reconsider the past, recall the words and endeavour -to comprehend all the feelings of Edward and, of course, -to reflect on her own with discontent. -When Mrs. Jennings came home, though she returned -from seeing people whom she had never seen before, -and of whom therefore she must have a great deal to say, -her mind was so much more occupied by the important secret -in her possession, than by anything else, that she -reverted to it again as soon as Elinor appeared. -"Well, my dear," she cried, "I sent you up to the -young man. Did not I do right?And I suppose you had -no great difficultyYou did not find him very unwilling -to accept your proposal?" -"No, ma'am THAT was not very likely." -"Well, and how soon will he be ready?For it seems -all to depend upon that." -"Really," said Elinor, "I know so little of these kind -of forms, that I can hardly even conjecture as to the time, -or the preparation necessary but I suppose two or three -months will complete his ordination." -"Two or three months" cried Mrs. Jennings "Lord my dear, -how calmly you talk of it and can the Colonel wait two -or three months Lord bless meI am sure it would put ME -quite out of patienceAnd though one would be very glad -to do a kindness by poor Mr. Ferrars, I do think it is -not worth while to wait two or three months for him. -Sure somebody else might be found that would do as well -somebody that is in orders already." -"My dear ma'am," said Elinor, "what can you be thinking of? -Why, Colonel Brandon's only object is to be of use to Mr. Ferrars." -"Lord bless you, my dearSure you do not mean to persuade -me that the Colonel only marries you for the sake of giving -ten guineas to Mr. Ferrars" -The deception could not continue after this -and an explanation immediately took place, by which both -gained considerable amusement for the moment, without any -material loss of happiness to either, for Mrs. Jennings -only exchanged one form of delight for another, and still -without forfeiting her expectation of the first. -"Aye, aye, the parsonage is but a small one," said she, -after the first ebullition of surprise and satisfaction -was over, "and very likely MAY be out of repair but to hear -a man apologising, as I thought, for a house that to my -knowledge has five sitting rooms on the groundfloor, and I -think the housekeeper told me could make up fifteen beds -and to you too, that had been used to live in Barton cottage -It seems quite ridiculous. But, my dear, we must -touch up the Colonel to do some thing to the parsonage, -and make it comfortable for them, before Lucy goes to it." -"But Colonel Brandon does not seem to have any idea -of the living's being enough to allow them to marry." -"The Colonel is a ninny, my dear because he has two -thousand ayear himself, he thinks that nobody else can marry -on less. Take my word for it, that, if I am alive, I shall -be paying a visit at Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas -and I am sure I shan't go if Lucy an't there." -Elinor was quite of her opinion, as to the probability -of their not waiting for any thing more. -CHAPTER -Edward, having carried his thanks to Colonel Brandon, -proceeded with his happiness to Lucy and such was the -excess of it by the time he reached Bartlett's Buildings, -that she was able to assure Mrs. Jennings, who called -on her again the next day with her congratulations, -that she had never seen him in such spirits before -in her life. -Her own happiness, and her own spirits, were at -least very certain and she joined Mrs. Jennings most -heartily in her expectation of their being all comfortably -together in Delaford Parsonage before Michaelmas. -So far was she, at the same time, from any backwardness -to give Elinor that credit which Edward WOULD give her, -that she spoke of her friendship for them both with the most -grateful warmth, was ready to own all their obligation -to her, and openly declared that no exertion for their -good on Miss Dashwood's part, either present or future, -would ever surprise her, for she believed her capable of -doing any thing in the world for those she really valued. -As for Colonel Brandon, she was not only ready to worship -him as a saint, but was moreover truly anxious that -he should be treated as one in all worldly concerns -anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost -and scarcely resolved to avail herself, at Delaford, -as far as she possibly could, of his servants, his carriage, -his cows, and his poultry. -It was now above a week since John Dashwood had -called in Berkeley Street, and as since that time no notice -had been taken by them of his wife's indisposition, -beyond one verbal enquiry, Elinor began to feel it -necessary to pay her a visit.This was an obligation, -however, which not only opposed her own inclination, -but which had not the assistance of any encouragement -from her companions. Marianne, not contented with -absolutely refusing to go herself, was very urgent -to prevent her sister's going at all and Mrs. Jennings, -though her carriage was always at Elinor's service, -so very much disliked Mrs. John Dashwood, that not even her -curiosity to see how she looked after the late discovery, -nor her strong desire to affront her by taking Edward's part, -could overcome her unwillingness to be in her company again. -The consequence was, that Elinor set out by herself -to pay a visit, for which no one could really have -less inclination, and to run the risk of a teteatete -with a woman, whom neither of the others had so much -reason to dislike. -Mrs. Dashwood was denied but before the carriage could -turn from the house, her husband accidentally came out. -He expressed great pleasure in meeting Elinor, told her -that he had been just going to call in Berkeley Street, -and, assuring her that Fanny would be very glad to see her, -invited her to come in. -They walked up stairs in to the drawingroom.Nobody was there. -"Fanny is in her own room, I suppose," said he"I -will go to her presently, for I am sure she will not -have the least objection in the world to seeing YOU. -Very far from it, indeed. NOW especially there -cannot bebut however, you and Marianne were always -great favourites.Why would not Marianne come?" -Elinor made what excuse she could for her. -"I am not sorry to see you alone," he replied, -"for I have a good deal to say to you. This living -of Colonel Brandon'scan it be true?has he really given -it to Edward?I heard it yesterday by chance, and was -coming to you on purpose to enquire farther about it." -"It is perfectly true.Colonel Brandon has given -the living of Delaford to Edward." -"ReallyWell, this is very astonishingno -relationshipno connection between themand now -that livings fetch such a pricewhat was the value of this?" -"About two hundred a year." -"Very welland for the next presentation to a living -of that valuesupposing the late incumbent to have -been old and sickly, and likely to vacate it soonhe -might have got I dare sayfourteen hundred pounds. -And how came he not to have settled that matter before this -person's death?NOW indeed it would be too late to sell it, -but a man of Colonel Brandon's senseI wonder he should -be so improvident in a point of such common, such natural, -concernWell, I am convinced that there is a vast deal -of inconsistency in almost every human character. I suppose, -howeveron recollectionthat the case may probably be THIS. -Edward is only to hold the living till the person to whom -the Colonel has really sold the presentation, is old enough -to take it.Aye, aye, that is the fact, depend upon it." -Elinor contradicted it, however, very positively -and by relating that she had herself been employed -in conveying the offer from Colonel Brandon to Edward, -and, therefore, must understand the terms on which it -was given, obliged him to submit to her authority. -"It is truly astonishing"he cried, after hearing -what she said"what could be the Colonel's motive?" -"A very simple oneto be of use to Mr. Ferrars." -"Well, well whatever Colonel Brandon may be, -Edward is a very lucky man.You will not mention the matter -to Fanny, however, for though I have broke it to her, -and she bears it vastly well,she will not like to hear -it much talked of." -Elinor had some difficulty here to refrain from observing, -that she thought Fanny might have borne with composure, -an acquisition of wealth to her brother, by which neither -she nor her child could be possibly impoverished. -"Mrs. Ferrars," added he, lowering his voice to the -tone becoming so important a subject, "knows nothing -about it at present, and I believe it will be best to -keep it entirely concealed from her as long as may be. -When the marriage takes place, I fear she must hear -of it all." -"But why should such precaution be used?Though -it is not to be supposed that Mrs. Ferrars can have -the smallest satisfaction in knowing that her son has -money enough to live upon,for THAT must be quite -out of the question yet why, upon her late behaviour, -is she supposed to feel at all?She has done with her -son, she cast him off for ever, and has made all those -over whom she had any influence, cast him off likewise. -Surely, after doing so, she cannot be imagined liable -to any impression of sorrow or of joy on his account -she cannot be interested in any thing that befalls him. -She would not be so weak as to throw away the comfort -of a child, and yet retain the anxiety of a parent" -"Ah Elinor," said John, "your reasoning is very good, -but it is founded on ignorance of human nature. -When Edward's unhappy match takes place, depend upon it -his mother will feel as much as if she had never discarded him -and, therefore every circumstance that may accelerate that -dreadful event, must be concealed from her as much as possible. -Mrs. Ferrars can never forget that Edward is her son." -"You surprise me I should think it must nearly -have escaped her memory by THIS time." -"You wrong her exceedingly. Mrs. Ferrars is one -of the most affectionate mothers in the world." -Elinor was silent. -"We think NOW,"said Mr. Dashwood, after a short pause, -"of ROBERT'S marrying Miss Morton." -Elinor, smiling at the grave and decisive importance -of her brother's tone, calmly replied, -"The lady, I suppose, has no choice in the affair." -"Choicehow do you mean?" -"I only mean that I suppose, from your manner -of speaking, it must be the same to Miss Morton whether -she marry Edward or Robert." -"Certainly, there can be no difference for Robert -will now to all intents and purposes be considered -as the eldest sonand as to any thing else, they are -both very agreeable young men I do not know that one -is superior to the other." -Elinor said no more, and John was also for a short -time silent.His reflections ended thus. -"Of ONE thing, my dear sister," kindly taking her hand, -and speaking in an awful whisper,"I may assure you -and I WILL do it, because I know it must gratify you. -I have good reason to thinkindeed I have it from the -best authority, or I should not repeat it, for otherwise -it would be very wrong to say any thing about itbut -I have it from the very best authoritynot that I ever -precisely heard Mrs. Ferrars say it herselfbut her -daughter DID, and I have it from herThat in short, -whatever objections there might be against a certaina -certain connectionyou understand meit would have been -far preferable to her, it would not have given her half -the vexation that THIS does. I was exceedingly pleased -to hear that Mrs. Ferrars considered it in that light -a very gratifying circumstance you know to us all. -'It would have been beyond comparison,' she said, 'the least -evil of the two, and she would be glad to compound NOW -for nothing worse.' But however, all that is quite out -of the questionnot to be thought of or mentioned -as to any attachment you knowit never could beall -that is gone by. But I thought I would just tell you -of this, because I knew how much it must please you. -Not that you have any reason to regret, my dear Elinor. There -is no doubt of your doing exceedingly wellquite as well, -or better, perhaps, all things considered. Has Colonel -Brandon been with you lately?" -Elinor had heard enough, if not to gratify her vanity, -and raise her selfimportance, to agitate her nerves -and fill her mindand she was therefore glad to be -spared from the necessity of saying much in reply herself, -and from the danger of hearing any thing more from -her brother, by the entrance of Mr. Robert Ferrars. -After a few moments' chat, John Dashwood, recollecting that -Fanny was yet uninformed of her sister's being there, -quitted the room in quest of her and Elinor was left -to improve her acquaintance with Robert, who, by the -gay unconcern, the happy selfcomplacency of his manner -while enjoying so unfair a division of his mother's love -and liberality, to the prejudice of his banished brother, -earned only by his own dissipated course of life, and that -brother's integrity, was confirming her most unfavourable -opinion of his head and heart. -They had scarcely been two minutes by themselves, -before he began to speak of Edward for he, too, had heard -of the living, and was very inquisitive on the subject. -Elinor repeated the particulars of it, as she had given them -to John and their effect on Robert, though very different, -was not less striking than it had been on HIM. He laughed -most immoderately. The idea of Edward's being a clergyman, -and living in a small parsonagehouse, diverted him -beyond measureand when to that was added the fanciful -imagery of Edward reading prayers in a white surplice, -and publishing the banns of marriage between John Smith and -Mary Brown, he could conceive nothing more ridiculous. -Elinor, while she waited in silence and immovable -gravity, the conclusion of such folly, could not restrain -her eyes from being fixed on him with a look that spoke -all the contempt it excited. It was a look, however, -very well bestowed, for it relieved her own feelings, and gave -no intelligence to him. He was recalled from wit to wisdom, -not by any reproof of her's, but by his own sensibility. -"We may treat it as a joke," said he, at last, -recovering from the affected laugh which had considerably -lengthened out the genuine gaiety of the moment"but, upon -my soul, it is a most serious business. Poor Edward -he is ruined for ever. I am extremely sorry for it -for I know him to be a very goodhearted creature as -wellmeaning a fellow perhaps, as any in the world. -You must not judge of him, Miss Dashwood, from YOUR -slight acquaintance.Poor EdwardHis manners are certainly -not the happiest in nature.But we are not all born, -you know, with the same powers,the same address. -Poor fellowto see him in a circle of strangers -to be sure it was pitiable enoughbut upon my soul, -I believe he has as good a heart as any in the kingdom -and I declare and protest to you I never was so shocked in my -life, as when it all burst forth. I could not believe it. -My mother was the first person who told me of it -and I, feeling myself called on to act with resolution, -immediately said to her, 'My dear madam, I do not know -what you may intend to do on the occasion, but as for myself, -I must say, that if Edward does marry this young woman, -I never will see him again.' That was what I said immediately. -I was most uncommonly shocked, indeedPoor Edwardhe has -done for himself completelyshut himself out for ever from -all decent societybut, as I directly said to my mother, -I am not in the least surprised at it from his style -of education, it was always to be expected. My poor mother -was half frantic." -"Have you ever seen the lady?" -"Yes once, while she was staying in this house, -I happened to drop in for ten minutes and I saw -quite enough of her. The merest awkward country girl, -without style, or elegance, and almost without beauty. -I remember her perfectly. Just the kind of girl I -should suppose likely to captivate poor Edward. -I offered immediately, as soon as my mother related -the affair to me, to talk to him myself, and dissuade -him from the match but it was too late THEN, I found, -to do any thing, for unluckily, I was not in the way -at first, and knew nothing of it till after the breach -had taken place, when it was not for me, you know, -to interfere. But had I been informed of it a few -hours earlierI think it is most probablethat something -might have been hit on. I certainly should have represented -it to Edward in a very strong light. 'My dear fellow,' -I should have said, 'consider what you are doing. -You are making a most disgraceful connection, and such a one -as your family are unanimous in disapproving.' I cannot -help thinking, in short, that means might have been found. -But now it is all too late. He must be starved, you know -that is certain absolutely starved." -He had just settled this point with great composure, -when the entrance of Mrs. John Dashwood put an end to the -subject. -But though SHE never spoke of it out of her own family, -Elinor could see its influence on her mind, in the something -like confusion of countenance with which she entered, -and an attempt at cordiality in her behaviour to herself. -She even proceeded so far as to be concerned to find -that Elinor and her sister were so soon to leave town, -as she had hoped to see more of theman exertion -in which her husband, who attended her into the room, -and hung enamoured over her accents, seemed to distinguish -every thing that was most affectionate and graceful. -CHAPTER -One other short call in Harley Street, in which Elinor -received her brother's congratulations on their travelling -so far towards Barton without any expense, and on Colonel -Brandon's being to follow them to Cleveland in a day or two, -completed the intercourse of the brother and sisters -in townand a faint invitation from Fanny, to come -to Norland whenever it should happen to be in their way, -which of all things was the most unlikely to occur, -with a more warm, though less public, assurance, from John -to Elinor, of the promptitude with which he should come -to see her at Delaford, was all that foretold any meeting -in the country. -It amused her to observe that all her friends seemed -determined to send her to Delaforda place, in which, -of all others, she would now least chuse to visit, -or wish to reside for not only was it considered as -her future home by her brother and Mrs. Jennings, but even Lucy, -when they parted, gave her a pressing invitation to visit her there. -Very early in April, and tolerably early in the day, -the two parties from Hanover Square and Berkeley Street set -out from their respective homes, to meet, by appointment, -on the road. For the convenience of Charlotte and her child, -they were to be more than two days on their journey, -and Mr. Palmer, travelling more expeditiously with Colonel Brandon, -was to join them at Cleveland soon after their arrival. -Marianne, few as had been her hours of comfort -in London, and eager as she had long been to quit it, -could not, when it came to the point, bid adieu to -the house in which she had for the last time enjoyed -those hopes, and that confidence, in Willoughby, -which were now extinguished for ever, without great pain. -Nor could she leave the place in which Willoughby remained, -busy in new engagements, and new schemes, in which SHE -could have no share, without shedding many tears. -Elinor's satisfaction, at the moment of removal, -was more positive. She had no such object for her lingering -thoughts to fix on, she left no creature behind, from whom -it would give her a moment's regret to be divided for ever, -she was pleased to be free herself from the persecution -of Lucy's friendship, she was grateful for bringing -her sister away unseen by Willoughby since his marriage, -and she looked forward with hope to what a few months -of tranquility at Barton might do towards restoring -Marianne's peace of mind, and confirming her own. -Their journey was safely performed. The second -day brought them into the cherished, or the prohibited, -county of Somerset, for as such was it dwelt on by turns -in Marianne's imagination and in the forenoon of the third -they drove up to Cleveland. -Cleveland was a spacious, modernbuilt house, -situated on a sloping lawn. It had no park, but the -pleasuregrounds were tolerably extensive and like -every other place of the same degree of importance, -it had its open shrubbery, and closer wood walk, -a road of smooth gravel winding round a plantation, -led to the front, the lawn was dotted over with timber, -the house itself was under the guardianship of the fir, -the mountainash, and the acacia, and a thick screen of -them altogether, interspersed with tall Lombardy poplars, -shut out the offices. -Marianne entered the house with a heart swelling -with emotion from the consciousness of being only eighty -miles from Barton, and not thirty from Combe Magna -and before she had been five minutes within its walls, -while the others were busily helping Charlotte to show -her child to the housekeeper, she quitted it again, -stealing away through the winding shrubberies, now just -beginning to be in beauty, to gain a distant eminence -where, from its Grecian temple, her eye, wandering over -a wide tract of country to the southeast, could fondly -rest on the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon, -and fancy that from their summits Combe Magna might be seen. -In such moments of precious, invaluable misery, -she rejoiced in tears of agony to be at Cleveland -and as she returned by a different circuit to the house, -feeling all the happy privilege of country liberty, -of wandering from place to place in free and luxurious solitude, -she resolved to spend almost every hour of every day -while she remained with the Palmers, in the indulgence of -such solitary rambles. -She returned just in time to join the others -as they quitted the house, on an excursion through its -more immediate premises and the rest of the morning was -easily whiled away, in lounging round the kitchen garden, -examining the bloom upon its walls, and listening to the -gardener's lamentations upon blights, in dawdling through -the greenhouse, where the loss of her favourite plants, -unwarily exposed, and nipped by the lingering frost, -raised the laughter of Charlotte,and in visiting her -poultryyard, where, in the disappointed hopes of her -dairymaid, by hens forsaking their nests, or being -stolen by a fox, or in the rapid decrease of a promising -young brood, she found fresh sources of merriment. -The morning was fine and dry, and Marianne, -in her plan of employment abroad, had not calculated -for any change of weather during their stay at Cleveland. -With great surprise therefore, did she find herself prevented -by a settled rain from going out again after dinner. -She had depended on a twilight walk to the Grecian temple, -and perhaps all over the grounds, and an evening merely -cold or damp would not have deterred her from it -but a heavy and settled rain even SHE could not fancy dry -or pleasant weather for walking. -Their party was small, and the hours passed quietly away. -Mrs. Palmer had her child, and Mrs. Jennings her carpetwork -they talked of the friends they had left behind, -arranged Lady Middleton's engagements, and wondered -whether Mr. Palmer and Colonel Brandon would get farther -than Reading that night. Elinor, however little concerned -in it, joined in their discourse and Marianne, who had -the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, -however it might be avoided by the family in general, -soon procured herself a book. -Nothing was wanting on Mrs. Palmer's side that constant -and friendly good humour could do, to make them feel -themselves welcome. The openness and heartiness of her -manner more than atoned for that want of recollection -and elegance which made her often deficient in the forms -of politeness her kindness, recommended by so pretty -a face, was engaging her folly, though evident -was not disgusting, because it was not conceited -and Elinor could have forgiven every thing but her laugh. -The two gentlemen arrived the next day to a very -late dinner, affording a pleasant enlargement of the party, -and a very welcome variety to their conversation, which a -long morning of the same continued rain had reduced very low. -Elinor had seen so little of Mr. Palmer, and in that -little had seen so much variety in his address to her -sister and herself, that she knew not what to expect -to find him in his own family. She found him, however, -perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors, -and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother -she found him very capable of being a pleasant companion, -and only prevented from being so always, by too great -an aptitude to fancy himself as much superior to people -in general, as he must feel himself to be to Mrs. Jennings -and Charlotte. For the rest of his character and habits, -they were marked, as far as Elinor could perceive, -with no traits at all unusual in his sex and time of life. -He was nice in his eating, uncertain in his hours -fond of his child, though affecting to slight it -and idled away the mornings at billiards, which ought -to have been devoted to business. She liked him, however, -upon the whole, much better than she had expected, and in -her heart was not sorry that she could like him no more -not sorry to be driven by the observation of his Epicurism, -his selfishness, and his conceit, to rest with complacency -on the remembrance of Edward's generous temper, simple taste, -and diffident feelings. -Of Edward, or at least of some of his concerns, -she now received intelligence from Colonel Brandon, -who had been into Dorsetshire lately and who, -treating her at once as the disinterested friend -of Mr. Ferrars, and the kind of confidant of himself, -talked to her a great deal of the parsonage at Delaford, -described its deficiencies, and told her what he meant -to do himself towards removing them.His behaviour -to her in this, as well as in every other particular, -his open pleasure in meeting her after an absence -of only ten days, his readiness to converse with her, -and his deference for her opinion, might very well -justify Mrs. Jennings's persuasion of his attachment, -and would have been enough, perhaps, had not Elinor still, -as from the first, believed Marianne his real favourite, -to make her suspect it herself. But as it was, -such a notion had scarcely ever entered her head, -except by Mrs. Jennings's suggestion and she could -not help believing herself the nicest observer of the -twoshe watched his eyes, while Mrs. Jennings thought -only of his behaviourand while his looks of anxious -solicitude on Marianne's feeling, in her head and throat, -the beginning of a heavy cold, because unexpressed by words, -entirely escaped the latter lady's observationSHE could -discover in them the quick feelings, and needless alarm -of a lover. -Two delightful twilight walks on the third and fourth -evenings of her being there, not merely on the dry gravel -of the shrubbery, but all over the grounds, and especially -in the most distant parts of them, where there was something -more of wildness than in the rest, where the trees were -the oldest, and the grass was the longest and wettest, -hadassisted by the still greater imprudence of sitting -in her wet shoes and stockingsgiven Marianne a cold -so violent as, though for a day or two trifled with -or denied, would force itself by increasing ailments on -the concern of every body, and the notice of herself. -Prescriptions poured in from all quarters, and as usual, -were all declined. Though heavy and feverish, with a pain -in her limbs, and a cough, and a sore throat, a good night's -rest was to cure her entirely and it was with difficulty -that Elinor prevailed on her, when she went to bed, -to try one or two of the simplest of the remedies. -CHAPTER -Marianne got up the next morning at her usual time -to every inquiry replied that she was better, and tried to -prove herself so, by engaging in her accustomary employments. -But a day spent in sitting shivering over the fire -with a book in her hand, which she was unable to read, -or in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak -much in favour of her amendment and when, at last, -she went early to bed, more and more indisposed, Colonel -Brandon was only astonished at her sister's composure, -who, though attending and nursing her the whole day, -against Marianne's inclination, and forcing proper medicines -on her at night, trusted, like Marianne, to the certainty -and efficacy of sleep, and felt no real alarm. -A very restless and feverish night, however, -disappointed the expectation of both and when Marianne, -after persisting in rising, confessed herself unable -to sit up, and returned voluntarily to her bed, -Elinor was very ready to adopt Mrs. Jennings's advice, -of sending for the Palmers' apothecary. -He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging -Miss Dashwood to expect that a very few days would restore -her sister to health, yet, by pronouncing her disorder -to have a putrid tendency, and allowing the word "infection" -to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to Mrs. Palmer, -on her baby's account. Mrs. Jennings, who had been inclined -from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious -than Elinor, now looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, -and confirming Charlotte's fears and caution, urged the -necessity of her immediate removal with her infant -and Mr. Palmer, though treating their apprehensions as idle, -found the anxiety and importunity of his wife too great -to be withstood. Her departure, therefore, was fixed on -and within an hour after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, -with her little boy and his nurse, for the house of a -near relation of Mr. Palmer's, who lived a few miles -on the other side of Bath whither her husband promised, -at her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or two -and whither she was almost equally urgent with her -mother to accompany her. Mrs. Jennings, however, with a -kindness of heart which made Elinor really love her, -declared her resolution of not stirring from Cleveland -as long as Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, -by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place -of the mother she had taken her from and Elinor found her -on every occasion a most willing and active helpmate, -desirous to share in all her fatigues, and often by her -better experience in nursing, of material use. -Poor Marianne, languid and low from the nature -of her malady, and feeling herself universally ill, -could no longer hope that tomorrow would find her recovered -and the idea of what tomorrow would have produced, -but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment severe -for on that day they were to have begun their journey home -and, attended the whole way by a servant of Mrs. Jennings, -were to have taken their mother by surprise on the -following forenoon. The little she said was all in -lamentation of this inevitable delay though Elinor tried -to raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she THEN -really believed herself, that it would be a very short one. -The next day produced little or no alteration in the -state of the patient she certainly was not better, and, -except that there was no amendment, did not appear worse. -Their party was now farther reduced for Mr. Palmer, -though very unwilling to go as well from real humanity -and goodnature, as from a dislike of appearing to be -frightened away by his wife, was persuaded at last -by Colonel Brandon to perform his promise of following her -and while he was preparing to go, Colonel Brandon himself, -with a much greater exertion, began to talk of going -likewise.Here, however, the kindness of Mrs. Jennings -interposed most acceptably for to send the Colonel away -while his love was in so much uneasiness on her sister's -account, would be to deprive them both, she thought, -of every comfort and therefore telling him at once -that his stay at Cleveland was necessary to herself, -that she should want him to play at piquet of an evening, -while Miss Dashwood was above with her sister, c. she -urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was gratifying -the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not -long even affect to demur especially as Mrs. Jennings's -entreaty was warmly seconded by Mr. Palmer, who seemed -to feel a relief to himself, in leaving behind him a person -so well able to assist or advise Miss Dashwood in any emergence. -Marianne was, of course, kept in ignorance of all -these arrangements. She knew not that she had been -the means of sending the owners of Cleveland away, -in about seven days from the time of their arrival. -It gave her no surprise that she saw nothing -of Mrs. Palmer and as it gave her likewise no concern, -she never mentioned her name. -Two days passed away from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure, -and her situation continued, with little variation, -the same. Mr. Harris, who attended her every day, -still talked boldly of a speedy recovery, and Miss Dashwood -was equally sanguine but the expectation of the others -was by no means so cheerful. Mrs. Jennings had determined -very early in the seizure that Marianne would never -get over it, and Colonel Brandon, who was chiefly -of use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's forebodings, -was not in a state of mind to resist their influence. -He tried to reason himself out of fears, which the different -judgment of the apothecary seemed to render absurd -but the many hours of each day in which he was left -entirely alone, were but too favourable for the admission -of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from -his mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more. -On the morning of the third day however, the gloomy -anticipations of both were almost done away for when -Mr. Harris arrived, he declared his patient materially better. -Her pulse was much stronger, and every symptom more favourable -than on the preceding visit. Elinor, confirmed in every -pleasant hope, was all cheerfulness rejoicing that -in her letters to her mother, she had pursued her own -judgment rather than her friend's, in making very light -of the indisposition which delayed them at Cleveland -and almost fixing on the time when Marianne would be -able to travel. -But the day did not close so auspiciously as it began. -Towards the evening Marianne became ill again, growing -more heavy, restless, and uncomfortable than before. -Her sister, however, still sanguine, was willing to -attribute the change to nothing more than the fatigue -of having sat up to have her bed made and carefully -administering the cordials prescribed, saw her, with -satisfaction, sink at last into a slumber, from which -she expected the most beneficial effects. Her sleep, -though not so quiet as Elinor wished to see it, -lasted a considerable time and anxious to observe -the result of it herself, she resolved to sit with her -during the whole of it. Mrs. Jennings, knowing nothing -of any change in the patient, went unusually early to bed -her maid, who was one of the principal nurses, was recreating -herself in the housekeeper's room, and Elinor remained -alone with Marianne. -The repose of the latter became more and more disturbed -and her sister, who watched, with unremitting attention -her continual change of posture, and heard the frequent -but inarticulate sounds of complaint which passed her lips, -was almost wishing to rouse her from so painful a slumber, -when Marianne, suddenly awakened by some accidental noise -in the house, started hastily up, and, with feverish wildness, -cried out, -"Is mama coming?" -"Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, -and assisting Marianne to lie down again, "but she will -be here, I hope, before it is long. It is a great way, -you know, from hence to Barton." -"But she must not go round by London," cried Marianne, -in the same hurried manner. "I shall never see her, -if she goes by London." -Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not -quite herself, and, while attempting to soothe her, -eagerly felt her pulse. It was lower and quicker than ever -and Marianne, still talking wildly of mama, her alarm -increased so rapidly, as to determine her on sending -instantly for Mr. Harris, and despatching a messenger -to Barton for her mother. To consult with Colonel Brandon -on the best means of effecting the latter, was a thought -which immediately followed the resolution of its performance -and as soon she had rung up the maid to take her place -by her sister, she hastened down to the drawingroom, -where she knew he was generally to be found at a much -later hour than the present. -It was no time for hesitation. Her fears and her -difficulties were immediately before him. Her fears, -he had no courage, no confidence to attempt the removal of -he listened to them in silent despondencebut her -difficulties were instantly obviated, for with a readiness -that seemed to speak the occasion, and the service -prearranged in his mind, he offered himself as the -messenger who should fetch Mrs. Dashwood. Elinor made no -resistance that was not easily overcome. She thanked him -with brief, though fervent gratitude, and while he went -to hurry off his servant with a message to Mr. Harris, and -an order for posthorses directly, she wrote a few lines -to her mother. -The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel -Brandonor such a companion for her mother,how gratefully -was it felta companion whose judgment would guide, -whose attendance must relieve, and whose friendship might -soothe heras far as the shock of such a summons COULD -be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his assistance, -would lessen it. -HE, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all -the firmness of a collected mind, made every necessary -arrangement with the utmost despatch, and calculated -with exactness the time in which she might look for -his return. Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind. -The horses arrived, even before they were expected, -and Colonel Brandon only pressing her hand with a look -of solemnity, and a few words spoken too low to reach her ear, -hurried into the carriage. It was then about twelve -o'clock, and she returned to her sister's apartment to wait -for the arrival of the apothecary, and to watch by her -the rest of the night. It was a night of almost equal -suffering to both. Hour after hour passed away in sleepless -pain and delirium on Marianne's side, and in the most -cruel anxiety on Elinor's, before Mr. Harris appeared. -Her apprehensions once raised, paid by their excess for all -her former security and the servant who sat up with her, -for she would not allow Mrs. Jennings to be called, -only tortured her more, by hints of what her mistress -had always thought. -Marianne's ideas were still, at intervals, -fixed incoherently on her mother, and whenever she -mentioned her name, it gave a pang to the heart of -poor Elinor, who, reproaching herself for having trifled -with so many days of illness, and wretched for some -immediate relief, fancied that all relief might soon -be in vain, that every thing had been delayed too long, -and pictured to herself her suffering mother arriving -too late to see this darling child, or to see her rational. -She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Harris, -or if HE could not come, for some other advice, -when the formerbut not till after five o'clockarrived. -His opinion, however, made some little amends for his delay, -for though acknowledging a very unexpected and unpleasant -alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger -to be material, and talked of the relief which a fresh -mode of treatment must procure, with a confidence which, -in a lesser degree, was communicated to Elinor. He promised -to call again in the course of three or four hours, -and left both the patient and her anxious attendant more -composed than he had found them. -With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not -being called to their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the -morning of what had passed. Her former apprehensions, -now with greater reason restored, left her no doubt of -the event and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor, -her conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her -to offer the comfort of hope. Her heart was really grieved. -The rapid decay, the early death of a girl so young, -so lovely as Marianne, must have struck a less interested -person with concern. On Mrs. Jennings's compassion -she had other claims. She had been for three months -her companion, was still under her care, and she was -known to have been greatly injured, and long unhappy. -The distress of her sister too, particularly a favourite, -was before herand as for their mother, when Mrs. Jennings -considered that Marianne might probably be to HER what -Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in HER sufferings -was very sincere. -Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit -but he came to be disappointed in his hopes of what the -last would produce. His medicines had failedthe fever -was unabated and Marianne only more quietnot more -herselfremained in a heavy stupor. Elinor, catching all, -and more than all, his fears in a moment, proposed to call -in further advice. But he judged it unnecessary he had -still something more to try, some more fresh application, -of whose success he was as confident as the last, and his -visit concluded with encouraging assurances which reached -the ear, but could not enter the heart of Miss Dashwood. -She was calm, except when she thought of her mother -but she was almost hopeless and in this state she continued -till noon, scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, -her thoughts wandering from one image of grief, -one suffering friend to another, and her spirits oppressed -to the utmost by the conversation of Mrs. Jennings, -who scrupled not to attribute the severity and danger -of this attack to the many weeks of previous indisposition -which Marianne's disappointment had brought on. -Elinor felt all the reasonableness of the idea, and it -gave fresh misery to her reflections. -About noon, however, she beganbut with a cautiona -dread of disappointment which for some time kept her silent, -even to her friendto fancy, to hope she could perceive -a slight amendment in her sister's pulseshe waited, -watched, and examined it again and againand at last, -with an agitation more difficult to bury under exterior calmness, -than all her foregoing distress, ventured to communicate -her hopes. Mrs. Jennings, though forced, on examination, -to acknowledge a temporary revival, tried to keep her -young friend from indulging a thought of its continuance -and Elinor, conning over every injunction of distrust, -told herself likewise not to hope. But it was too late. -Hope had already entered and feeling all its anxious flutter, -she bent over her sister to watchshe hardly knew for what. -Half an hour passed away, and the favourable symptom -yet blessed her. Others even arose to confirm it. -Her breath, her skin, her lips, all flattered Elinor -with signs of amendment and Marianne fixed her eyes on -her with a rational, though languid, gaze. Anxiety and -hope now oppressed her in equal degrees, and left her no -moment of tranquillity till the arrival of Mr. Harris at -four o'clockwhen his assurances, his felicitations on -a recovery in her sister even surpassing his expectation, -gave her confidence, comfort, and tears of joy. -Marianne was in every respect materially better, -and he declared her entirely out of danger. Mrs. Jennings, -perhaps satisfied with the partial justification of her -forebodings which had been found in their late alarm, -allowed herself to trust in his judgment, and admitted, -with unfeigned joy, and soon with unequivocal cheerfulness, -the probability of an entire recovery. -Elinor could not be cheerful. Her joy was of a -different kind, and led to any thing rather than to gaiety. -Marianne restored to life, health, friends, and to her -doting mother, was an idea to fill her heart with sensations -of exquisite comfort, and expand it in fervent gratitude -but it lead to no outward demonstrations of joy, no words, -no smiles. All within Elinor's breast was satisfaction, -silent and strong. -She continued by the side of her sister, with little -intermission the whole afternoon, calming every fear, -satisfying every inquiry of her enfeebled spirits, -supplying every succour, and watching almost every look and -every breath. The possibility of a relapse would of course, -in some moments, occur to remind her of what anxiety was -but when she saw, on her frequent and minute examination, -that every symptom of recovery continued, and saw Marianne -at six o'clock sink into a quiet, steady, and to all -appearance comfortable, sleep, she silenced every doubt. -The time was now drawing on, when Colonel Brandon -might be expected back. At ten o'clock, she trusted, -or at least not much later her mother would be relieved -from the dreadful suspense in which she must now be -travelling towards them. The Colonel, tooperhaps scarcely -less an object of pityOhhow slow was the progress -of time which yet kept them in ignorance -At seven o'clock, leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep, -she joined Mrs. Jennings in the drawingroom to tea. -Of breakfast she had been kept by her fears, and of -dinner by their sudden reverse, from eating much -and the present refreshment, therefore, with such feelings -of content as she brought to it, was particularly welcome. -Mrs. Jennings would have persuaded her, at its conclusion, -to take some rest before her mother's arrival, and allow HER to -take her place by Marianne but Elinor had no sense of fatigue, -no capability of sleep at that moment about her, and she was -not to be kept away from her sister an unnecessary instant. -Mrs. Jennings therefore attending her up stairs into the -sick chamber, to satisfy herself that all continued right, -left her there again to her charge and her thoughts, -and retired to her own room to write letters and sleep. -The night was cold and stormy. The wind roared -round the house, and the rain beat against the windows -but Elinor, all happiness within, regarded it not. -Marianne slept through every blast and the travellers -they had a rich reward in store, for every present inconvenience. -The clock struck eight. Had it been ten, -Elinor would have been convinced that at that moment -she heard a carriage driving up to the house -and so strong was the persuasion that she DID, in spite -of the ALMOST impossibility of their being already come, -that she moved into the adjoining dressingcloset and -opened a window shutter, to be satisfied of the truth. -She instantly saw that her ears had not deceived her. -The flaring lamps of a carriage were immediately in view. -By their uncertain light she thought she could discern it -to be drawn by four horses and this, while it told the -excess of her poor mother's alarm, gave some explanation -to such unexpected rapidity. -Never in her life had Elinor found it so difficult -to be calm, as at that moment. The knowledge of what her -mother must be feeling as the carriage stopt at the door -of her doubther dreadperhaps her despairand -of what SHE had to tellwith such knowledge it was -impossible to be calm. All that remained to be done -was to be speedy and, therefore staying only till -she could leave Mrs. Jennings's maid with her sister, -she hurried down stairs. -The bustle in the vestibule, as she passed along -an inner lobby, assured her that they were already -in the house. She rushed to the drawingroom,she -entered it,and saw only Willoughby. -CHAPTER -Elinor, starting back with a look of horror at -the sight of him, obeyed the first impulse of her heart -in turning instantly to quit the room, and her hand -was already on the lock, when its action was suspended -by his hastily advancing, and saying, in a voice rather -of command than supplication, -"Miss Dashwood, for half an hourfor ten minutes -I entreat you to stay." -"No, sir," she replied with firmness, "I shall NOT stay. -Your business cannot be with ME. The servants, I suppose, -forgot to tell you that Mr. Palmer was not in the house." -"Had they told me," he cried with vehemence, -"that Mr. Palmer and all his relations were at the devil, -it would not have turned me from the door. My business -is with you, and only you." -"With me"in the utmost amazement"well, sir, -be quickand if you canless violent." -"Sit down, and I will be both." -She hesitated she knew not what to do. The possibility -of Colonel Brandon's arriving and finding her there, -came across her. But she had promised to hear him, -and her curiosity no less than her honor was engaged. -After a moment's recollection, therefore, concluding that -prudence required dispatch, and that her acquiescence would -best promote it, she walked silently towards the table, -and sat down. He took the opposite chair, and for half -a minute not a word was said by either. -"Pray be quick, sir,"said Elinor, impatiently -"I have no time to spare." -He was sitting in an attitude of deep meditation, -and seemed not to hear her. -"Your sister," said he, with abruptness, a moment -afterwards"is out of danger. I heard it from the servant. -God be praisedBut is it true? is it really true?" -Elinor would not speak. He repeated the inquiry with -yet greater eagerness. -"For God's sake tell me, is she out of danger, or is she not?" -"We hope she is." -He rose up, and walked across the room. -"Had I known as much half an hour agoBut -since I AM here,"speaking with a forced vivacity as he -returned to his seat"what does it signify?For once, -Miss Dashwoodit will be the last time, perhapslet us -be cheerful together.I am in a fine mood for gaiety. -Tell me honestly"a deeper glow overspreading his cheeks -"do you think me most a knave or a fool?" -Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. -She began to think that he must be in liquorthe -strangeness of such a visit, and of such manners, -seemed no otherwise intelligible and with this impression -she immediately rose, saying, -"Mr. Willoughby, I advise you at present to return -to CombeI am not at leisure to remain with you longer. -Whatever your business may be with me, will it be better -recollected and explained tomorrow." -"I understand you," he replied, with an expressive smile, -and a voice perfectly calm "yes, I am very drunk. -A pint of porter with my cold beef at Marlborough was -enough to overset me." -"At Marlborough"cried Elinor, more and more at -a loss to understand what he would be at. -"Yes,I left London this morning at eight o'clock, -and the only ten minutes I have spent out of my chaise -since that time procured me a nuncheon at Marlborough." -The steadiness of his manner, and the intelligence -of his eye as he spoke, convincing Elinor, that whatever -other unpardonable folly might bring him to Cleveland, -he was not brought there by intoxication, she said, -after a moment's recollection, -"Mr. Willoughby, you OUGHT to feel, and I certainly -DOthat after what has passedyour coming here in -this manner, and forcing yourself upon my notice, -requires a very particular excuse.What is it, -that you mean by it?" -"I mean,"said he, with serious energy"if I can, -to make you hate me one degree less than you do NOW. -I mean to offer some kind of explanation, some kind -of apology, for the past to open my whole heart to you, -and by convincing you, that though I have been always -a blockhead, I have not been always a rascal, to obtain -something like forgiveness from Mafrom your sister." -"Is this the real reason of your coming?" -"Upon my soul it is,"was his answer, with a warmth -which brought all the former Willoughby to her remembrance, -and in spite of herself made her think him sincere. -"If that is all, you may be satisfied already, -for Marianne DOESshe has LONG forgiven you." -"Has she?"he cried, in the same eager tone. -"Then she has forgiven me before she ought to have done it. -But she shall forgive me again, and on more reasonable -grounds.NOW will you listen to me?" -Elinor bowed her assent. -"I do not know," said he, after a pause of expectation -on her side, and thoughtfulness on his own,"how YOU -may have accounted for my behaviour to your sister, -or what diabolical motive you may have imputed to me. -Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me,it is -worth the trial however, and you shall hear every thing. -When I first became intimate in your family, I had no -other intention, no other view in the acquaintance -than to pass my time pleasantly while I was obliged to remain -in Devonshire, more pleasantly than I had ever done before. -Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners -could not but please me and her behaviour to me almost -from the first, was of a kindIt is astonishing, -when I reflect on what it was, and what SHE was, that my -heart should have been so insensible But at first -I must confess, my vanity only was elevated by it. -Careless of her happiness, thinking only of my own amusement, -giving way to feelings which I had always been too much -in the habit of indulging, I endeavoured, by every means -in my power, to make myself pleasing to her, without any -design of returning her affection." -Miss Dashwood, at this point, turning her eyes on him -with the most angry contempt, stopped him, by saying, -"It is hardly worth while, Mr. Willoughby, -for you to relate, or for me to listen any longer. -Such a beginning as this cannot be followed by any thing. -Do not let me be pained by hearing any thing more on -the subject." -"I insist on you hearing the whole of it," he replied, -"My fortune was never large, and I had always been expensive, -always in the habit of associating with people of better -income than myself. Every year since my coming of age, -or even before, I believe, had added to my debts and though -the death of my old cousin, Mrs. Smith, was to set me free -yet that event being uncertain, and possibly far distant, -it had been for some time my intention to reestablish my -circumstances by marrying a woman of fortune. To attach -myself to your sister, therefore, was not a thing to be -thought ofand with a meanness, selfishness, cruelty -which no indignant, no contemptuous look, even of yours, -Miss Dashwood, can ever reprobate too muchI was acting -in this manner, trying to engage her regard, without a -thought of returning it.But one thing may be said -for me even in that horrid state of selfish vanity, -I did not know the extent of the injury I meditated, -because I did not THEN know what it was to love. -But have I ever known it?Well may it be doubted for, had I -really loved, could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity, -to avarice?or, what is more, could I have sacrificed hers? -But I have done it. To avoid a comparative poverty, -which her affection and her society would have deprived -of all its horrors, I have, by raising myself to affluence, -lost every thing that could make it a blessing." -"You did then," said Elinor, a little softened, -"believe yourself at one time attached to her?" -"To have resisted such attractions, to have withstood -such tendernessIs there a man on earth who could have -done it?Yes, I found myself, by insensible degrees, -sincerely fond of her and the happiest hours of my life -were what I spent with her when I felt my intentions -were strictly honourable, and my feelings blameless. -Even THEN, however, when fully determined on paying -my addresses to her, I allowed myself most improperly -to put off, from day to day, the moment of doing it, -from an unwillingness to enter into an engagement -while my circumstances were so greatly embarrassed. -I will not reason herenor will I stop for YOU to expatiate -on the absurdity, and the worse than absurdity, of scrupling -to engage my faith where my honour was already bound. -The event has proved, that I was a cunning fool, -providing with great circumspection for a possible -opportunity of making myself contemptible and wretched -for ever. At last, however, my resolution was taken, -and I had determined, as soon as I could engage her alone, -to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her, -and openly assure her of an affection which I had already -taken such pains to display. But in the interimin the -interim of the very few hours that were to pass, before I -could have an opportunity of speaking with her in private -a circumstance occurredan unlucky circumstance, to ruin -all my resolution, and with it all my comfort. A discovery -took place,"here he hesitated and looked down."Mrs. Smith -had somehow or other been informed, I imagine by some -distant relation, whose interest it was to deprive me of -her favour, of an affair, a connectionbut I need not -explain myself farther," he added, looking at her with an -heightened colour and an enquiring eye"your particular -intimacyyou have probably heard the whole story long ago." -"I have," returned Elinor, colouring likewise, -and hardening her heart anew against any compassion for him, -"I have heard it all. And how you will explain away any -part of your guilt in that dreadful business, I confess -is beyond my comprehension." -"Remember," cried Willoughby, "from whom you received -the account. Could it be an impartial one? I acknowledge -that her situation and her character ought to have been -respected by me. I do not mean to justify myself, but at -the same time cannot leave you to suppose that I have nothing -to urgethat because she was injured she was irreproachable, -and because I was a libertine, SHE must be a saint. -If the violence of her passions, the weakness of her -understandingI do not mean, however, to defend myself. -Her affection for me deserved better treatment, and I often, -with great selfreproach, recall the tenderness which, -for a very short time, had the power of creating any return. -I wishI heartily wish it had never been. But I have injured -more than herself and I have injured one, whose affection -for memay I say it? was scarcely less warm than hers -and whose mindOh how infinitely superior" -"Your indifference, however, towards that unfortunate -girlI must say it, unpleasant to me as the discussion -of such a subject may well beyour indifference is no -apology for your cruel neglect of her. Do not think yourself -excused by any weakness, any natural defect of understanding -on her side, in the wanton cruelty so evident on yours. -You must have known, that while you were enjoying yourself -in Devonshire pursuing fresh schemes, always gay, -always happy, she was reduced to the extremest indigence." -"But, upon my soul, I did NOT know it," he warmly -replied "I did not recollect that I had omitted to give -her my direction and common sense might have told her -how to find it out." -"Well, sir, and what said Mrs. Smith?" -"She taxed me with the offence at once, and my confusion -may be guessed. The purity of her life, the formality -of her notions, her ignorance of the worldevery thing -was against me. The matter itself I could not deny, -and vain was every endeavour to soften it. She was -previously disposed, I believe, to doubt the morality of my -conduct in general, and was moreover discontented with -the very little attention, the very little portion of my -time that I had bestowed on her, in my present visit. -In short, it ended in a total breach. By one measure I -might have saved myself. In the height of her morality, -good woman she offered to forgive the past, if I would -marry Eliza. That could not beand I was formally -dismissed from her favour and her house. The night -following this affairI was to go the next morning -was spent by me in deliberating on what my future conduct -should be. The struggle was greatbut it ended too soon. -My affection for Marianne, my thorough conviction of her -attachment to meit was all insufficient to outweigh -that dread of poverty, or get the better of those false -ideas of the necessity of riches, which I was naturally -inclined to feel, and expensive society had increased. -I had reason to believe myself secure of my present wife, -if I chose to address her, and I persuaded myself to think -that nothing else in common prudence remained for me to do. -A heavy scene however awaited me, before I could leave -DevonshireI was engaged to dine with you on that very day -some apology was therefore necessary for my breaking -this engagement. But whether I should write this apology, -or deliver it in person, was a point of long debate. -To see Marianne, I felt, would be dreadful, and I even doubted -whether I could see her again, and keep to my resolution. -In that point, however, I undervalued my own magnanimity, -as the event declared for I went, I saw her, and saw -her miserable, and left her miserableand left her hoping -never to see her again." -"Why did you call, Mr. Willoughby?" said Elinor, -reproachfully "a note would have answered every purpose. -Why was it necessary to call?" -"It was necessary to my own pride. I could not bear -to leave the country in a manner that might lead you, -or the rest of the neighbourhood, to suspect any part -of what had really passed between Mrs. Smith and myself -and I resolved therefore on calling at the cottage, -in my way to Honiton. The sight of your dear sister, -however, was really dreadful and, to heighten the matter, -I found her alone. You were all gone I do not know where. -I had left her only the evening before, so fully, -so firmly resolved within my self on doing right -A few hours were to have engaged her to me for ever -and I remember how happy, how gay were my spirits, as I -walked from the cottage to Allenham, satisfied with myself, -delighted with every body But in this, our last interview -of friendship, I approached her with a sense of guilt -that almost took from me the power of dissembling. -Her sorrow, her disappointment, her deep regret, when I told -her that I was obliged to leave Devonshire so immediatelyI -never shall forget itunited too with such reliance, -such confidence in meOh, Godwhat a hardhearted -rascal I was" -They were both silent for a few moments. -Elinor first spoke. -"Did you tell her that you should soon return?" -"I do not know what I told her," he replied, impatiently -"less than was due to the past, beyond a doubt, and in all -likelihood much more than was justified by the future. -I cannot think of it.It won't do.Then came your dear mother -to torture me farther, with all her kindness and confidence. -Thank Heaven it DID torture me. I was miserable. -Miss Dashwood, you cannot have an idea of the comfort it -gives me to look back on my own misery. I owe such a grudge -to myself for the stupid, rascally folly of my own heart, -that all my past sufferings under it are only triumph and -exultation to me now. Well, I went, left all that I loved, -and went to those to whom, at best, I was only indifferent. -My journey to towntravelling with my own horses, -and therefore so tediouslyno creature to speak tomy -own reflections so cheerfulwhen I looked forward -every thing so invitingwhen I looked back at Barton, -the picture so soothingoh, it was a blessed journey" -He stopped. -"Well, sir," said Elinor, who, though pitying him, -grew impatient for his departure, "and this is all?" -"Ahno,have you forgot what passed in town? -That infamous letterDid she shew it you?" -"Yes, I saw every note that passed." -"When the first of hers reached me as it immediately did, -for I was in town the whole time, what I felt is -in the common phrase, not to be expressed in a more -simple oneperhaps too simple to raise any emotion -my feelings were very, very painful.Every line, every word -wasin the hackneyed metaphor which their dear writer, -were she here, would forbida dagger to my heart. -To know that Marianne was in town wasin the same language -a thunderbolt.Thunderbolts and daggerswhat a reproof -would she have given meher taste, her opinionsI believe -they are better known to me than my own,and I am sure -they are dearer." -Elinor's heart, which had undergone many changes -in the course of this extraordinary conversation, -was now softened againyet she felt it her duty to check -such ideas in her companion as the last. -"This is not right, Mr. Willoughby.Remember that -you are married. Relate only what in your conscience -you think necessary for me to hear." -"Marianne's note, by assuring me that I was still -as dear to her as in former days, that in spite of the many, -many weeks we had been separated, she was as constant -in her own feelings, and as full of faith in the constancy -of mine as ever, awakened all my remorse. I say awakened, -because time and London, business and dissipation, -had in some measure quieted it, and I had been growing -a fine hardened villain, fancying myself indifferent to her, -and chusing to fancy that she too must have become -indifferent to me talking to myself of our past attachment -as a mere idle, trifling business, shrugging up my shoulders -in proof of its being so, and silencing every reproach, -overcoming every scruple, by secretly saying now and then, -'I shall be heartily glad to hear she is well married.' -But this note made me know myself better. I felt that -she was infinitely dearer to me than any other woman -in the world, and that I was using her infamously. -But every thing was then just settled between Miss Grey -and me. To retreat was impossible. All that I had to do, -was to avoid you both. I sent no answer to Marianne, -intending by that to preserve myself from her farther notice -and for some time I was even determined not to call in -Berkeley Streetbut at last, judging it wiser to affect -the air of a cool, common acquaintance than anything else, -I watched you all safely out of the house one morning, -and left my name." -"Watched us out of the house" -"Even so. You would be surprised to hear how often -I watched you, how often I was on the point of falling -in with you. I have entered many a shop to avoid your sight, -as the carriage drove by. Lodging as I did in Bond Street, -there was hardly a day in which I did not catch a glimpse -of one or other of you and nothing but the most constant -watchfulness on my side, a most invariably prevailing -desire to keep out of your sight, could have separated us -so long. I avoided the Middletons as much as possible, -as well as everybody else who was likely to prove -an acquaintance in common. Not aware of their being -in town, however, I blundered on Sir John, I believe, -the first day of his coming, and the day after I had called -at Mrs. Jennings's. He asked me to a party, a dance at his -house in the evening.Had he NOT told me as an inducement -that you and your sister were to be there, I should have -felt it too certain a thing, to trust myself near him. -The next morning brought another short note from Marianne -still affectionate, open, artless, confidingeverything -that could make MY conduct most hateful. I could not -answer it. I triedbut could not frame a sentence. -But I thought of her, I believe, every moment of the day. -If you CAN pity me, Miss Dashwood, pity my situation as it -was THEN. With my head and heart full of your sister, -I was forced to play the happy lover to another womanThose -three or four weeks were worse than all. Well, at last, -as I need not tell you, you were forced on me and what a -sweet figure I cutwhat an evening of agony it was -Marianne, beautiful as an angel on one side, calling me -Willoughby in such a toneOh, Godholding out her hand -to me, asking me for an explanation, with those bewitching -eyes fixed in such speaking solicitude on my faceand -Sophia, jealous as the devil on the other hand, looking -all that wasWell, it does not signify it is over now. -Such an eveningI ran away from you all as soon as I could -but not before I had seen Marianne's sweet face as white -as death.THAT was the last, last look I ever had of her -the last manner in which she appeared to me. It was a horrid -sightyet when I thought of her today as really dying, -it was a kind of comfort to me to imagine that I knew -exactly how she would appear to those, who saw her last -in this world. She was before me, constantly before me, -as I travelled, in the same look and hue." -A short pause of mutual thoughtfulness succeeded. -Willoughby first rousing himself, broke it thus -"Well, let me make haste and be gone. Your sister -is certainly better, certainly out of danger?" -"We are assured of it." -"Your poor mother, toodoting on Marianne." -"But the letter, Mr. Willoughby, your own letter -have you any thing to say about that?" -"Yes, yes, THAT in particular. Your sister -wrote to me again, you know, the very next morning. -You saw what she said. I was breakfasting at the -Ellisons,and her letter, with some others, was brought -to me there from my lodgings. It happened to catch -Sophia's eye before it caught mineand its size, -the elegance of the paper, the handwriting altogether, -immediately gave her a suspicion. Some vague report had -reached her before of my attachment to some young lady -in Devonshire, and what had passed within her observation -the preceding evening had marked who the young lady was, -and made her more jealous than ever. Affecting that air -of playfulness, therefore, which is delightful in a woman -one loves, she opened the letter directly, and read -its contents. She was well paid for her impudence. -She read what made her wretched. Her wretchedness I could -have borne, but her passionher maliceAt all events it -must be appeased. And, in shortwhat do you think of my -wife's style of letterwriting?delicatetender -truly femininewas it not?" -"Your wifeThe letter was in your own handwriting." -"Yes, but I had only the credit of servilely copying -such sentences as I was ashamed to put my name to. -The original was all her ownher own happy thoughts -and gentle diction. But what could I dowe were engaged, -every thing in preparation, the day almost fixedBut I am -talking like a fool. PreparationdayIn honest words, -her money was necessary to me, and in a situation like -mine, any thing was to be done to prevent a rupture. -And after all, what did it signify to my character -in the opinion of Marianne and her friends, in what language -my answer was couched?It must have been only to one end. -My business was to declare myself a scoundrel, and whether -I did it with a bow or a bluster was of little importance. -'I am ruined for ever in their opinion' said I to -myself'I am shut out for ever from their society, -they already think me an unprincipled fellow, this letter -will only make them think me a blackguard one.' Such were -my reasonings, as, in a sort of desperate carelessness, -I copied my wife's words, and parted with the last relics -of Marianne. Her three notesunluckily they were all -in my pocketbook, or I should have denied their existence, -and hoarded them for everI was forced to put them up, -and could not even kiss them. And the lock of hairthat too -I had always carried about me in the same pocketbook, -which was now searched by Madam with the most ingratiating -virulence,the dear lockall, every memento was torn from me." -"You are very wrong, Mr. Willoughby, very blamable," -said Elinor, while her voice, in spite of herself, -betrayed her compassionate emotion "you ought not to speak -in this way, either of Mrs. Willoughby or my sister. -You had made your own choice. It was not forced on you. -Your wife has a claim to your politeness, to your respect, -at least. She must be attached to you, or she would not -have married you. To treat her with unkindness, to speak -of her slightingly is no atonement to Mariannenor can I -suppose it a relief to your own conscience." -"Do not talk to me of my wife," said he with a heavy sigh. -"She does not deserve your compassion.She knew I had no -regard for her when we married.Well, married we were, -and came down to Combe Magna to be happy, and afterwards -returned to town to be gay.And now do you pity me, -Miss Dashwood?or have I said all this to no purpose? -Am Ibe it only one degreeam I less guilty in your opinion -than I was before?My intentions were not always wrong. -Have I explained away any part of my guilt?" -"Yes, you have certainly removed somethinga little. -You have proved yourself, on the whole, less faulty than -I had believed you. You have proved your heart less wicked, -much less wicked. But I hardly knowthe misery that -you have inflictedI hardly know what could have made -it worse." -"Will you repeat to your sister when she is recovered, -what I have been telling you?Let me be a little lightened -too in her opinion as well as in yours. You tell me that -she has forgiven me already. Let me be able to fancy that -a better knowledge of my heart, and of my present feelings, -will draw from her a more spontaneous, more natural, more -gentle, less dignified, forgiveness. Tell her of my misery -and my penitencetell her that my heart was never inconstant -to her, and if you will, that at this moment she is dearer -to me than ever." -"I will tell her all that is necessary to what may -comparatively be called, your justification. But you have -not explained to me the particular reason of your coming now, -nor how you heard of her illness." -"Last night, in Drury Lane lobby, I ran against Sir -John Middleton, and when he saw who I wasfor the first -time these two monthshe spoke to me.That he had cut -me ever since my marriage, I had seen without surprise -or resentment. Now, however, his goodnatured, honest, -stupid soul, full of indignation against me, and concern -for your sister, could not resist the temptation of telling -me what he knew ought tothough probably he did not -think it WOULDvex me horridly. As bluntly as he could -speak it, therefore, he told me that Marianne Dashwood -was dying of a putrid fever at Clevelanda letter that -morning received from Mrs. Jennings declared her danger -most imminentthe Palmers are all gone off in a fright, -c.I was too much shocked to be able to pass myself -off as insensible even to the undiscerning Sir John. -His heart was softened in seeing mine suffer and so much -of his illwill was done away, that when we parted, -he almost shook me by the hand while he reminded me of an -old promise about a pointer puppy. What I felt on hearing -that your sister was dyingand dying too, believing me -the greatest villain upon earth, scorning, hating me -in her latest momentsfor how could I tell what horrid -projects might not have been imputed? ONE person I -was sure would represent me as capable of any thing -What I felt was dreadfulMy resolution was soon made, -and at eight o'clock this morning I was in my carriage. -Now you know all." -Elinor made no answer. Her thoughts were silently fixed -on the irreparable injury which too early an independence -and its consequent habits of idleness, dissipation, and luxury, -had made in the mind, the character, the happiness, -of a man who, to every advantage of person and talents, -united a disposition naturally open and honest, and a -feeling, affectionate temper. The world had made him -extravagant and vainExtravagance and vanity had made him -coldhearted and selfish. Vanity, while seeking its own -guilty triumph at the expense of another, had involved -him in a real attachment, which extravagance, or at least -its offspring, necessity, had required to be sacrificed. -Each faulty propensity in leading him to evil, had led -him likewise to punishment. The attachment, from which -against honour, against feeling, against every better interest -he had outwardly torn himself, now, when no longer allowable, -governed every thought and the connection, for the sake -of which he had, with little scruple, left her sister -to misery, was likely to prove a source of unhappiness -to himself of a far more incurable nature. From a reverie -of this kind she was recalled at the end of some minutes -by Willoughby, who, rousing himself from a reverie at least -equally painful, started up in preparation for going, and said -"There is no use in staying here I must be off." -"Are you going back to town?" -"Noto Combe Magna. I have business there -from thence to town in a day or two. Good bye." -He held out his hand. She could not refuse to give -him hers'she pressed it with affection. -"And you DO think something better of me than -you did?"said he, letting it fall, and leaning against -the mantelpiece as if forgetting he was to go. -Elinor assured him that she didthat she forgave, -pitied, wished him wellwas even interested in his -happinessand added some gentle counsel as to the behaviour -most likely to promote it. His answer was not very encouraging. -"As to that," said he, "I must rub through the world -as well as I can. Domestic happiness is out of the question. -If, however, I am allowed to think that you and yours feel -an interest in my fate and actions, it may be the meansit -may put me on my guardat least, it may be something to -live for. Marianne to be sure is lost to me for ever. -Were I even by any blessed chance at liberty again" -Elinor stopped him with a reproof. -"Well,"he replied"once more good bye. I shall -now go away and live in dread of one event." -"What do you mean?" -"Your sister's marriage." -"You are very wrong. She can never be more lost -to you than she is now." -"But she will be gained by some one else. And if -that some one should be the very he whom, of all others, -I could least bearbut I will not stay to rob myself -of all your compassionate goodwill, by shewing -that where I have most injured I can least forgive. -Good bye,God bless you" -And with these words, he almost ran out of the room. -CHAPTER -Elinor, for some time after he left her, for some time -even after the sound of his carriage had died away, remained -too much oppressed by a crowd of ideas, widely differing in -themselves, but of which sadness was the general result, -to think even of her sister. -Willoughby, he, whom only half an hour ago she had -abhorred as the most worthless of men, Willoughby, in spite -of all his faults, excited a degree of commiseration -for the sufferings produced by them, which made her -think of him as now separated for ever from her family, -with a tenderness, a regret, rather in proportion, as she -soon acknowledged within herselfto his wishes than to -his merits. She felt that his influence over her mind -was heightened by circumstances which ought not in reason -to have weight by that person of uncommon attraction, -that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it -was no merit to possess and by that still ardent love -for Marianne, which it was not even innocent to indulge. -But she felt that it was so, long, long before she could -feel his influence less. -When at last she returned to the unconscious Marianne, -she found her just awaking, refreshed by so long and sweet -a sleep to the extent of her hopes. Elinor's heart was full. -The past, the present, the future, Willoughby's visit, -Marianne's safety, and her mother's expected arrival, -threw her altogether into an agitation of spirits -which kept off every indication of fatigue, and made -her only fearful of betraying herself to her sister. -Short was the time, however, in which that fear could -affect her, for within half an hour after Willoughby's -leaving the house, she was again called down stairs -by the sound of another carriage.Eager to save her -mother from every unnecessary moment's horrible suspense, -she ran immediately into the hall, and reached the outward -door just in time to receive and support her as she entered it. -Mrs. Dashwood, whose terror as they drew near the -house had produced almost the conviction of Marianne's -being no more, had no voice to inquire after her, -no voice even for Elinor but SHE, waiting neither for -salutation nor inquiry, instantly gave the joyful relief -and her mother, catching it with all her usual warmth, -was in a moment as much overcome by her happiness, as she -had been before by her fears. She was supported into -the drawingroom between her daughter and her friend -and there, shedding tears of joy, though still unable -to speak, embraced Elinor again and again, turning from her -at intervals to press Colonel Brandon's hand, with a look -which spoke at once her gratitude, and her conviction -of his sharing with herself in the bliss of the moment. -He shared it, however, in a silence even greater than her own. -As soon as Mrs. Dashwood had recovered herself, -to see Marianne was her first desire and in two minutes she -was with her beloved child, rendered dearer to her than ever -by absence, unhappiness, and danger. Elinor's delight, -as she saw what each felt in the meeting, was only checked -by an apprehension of its robbing Marianne of farther sleep -but Mrs. Dashwood could be calm, could be even prudent, -when the life of a child was at stake, and Marianne, -satisfied in knowing her mother was near her, and conscious -of being too weak for conversation, submitted readily to the -silence and quiet prescribed by every nurse around her. -Mrs. Dashwood WOULD sit up with her all night and Elinor, -in compliance with her mother's entreaty, went to bed. -But the rest, which one night entirely sleepless, -and many hours of the most wearing anxiety seemed to -make requisite, was kept off by irritation of spirits. -Willoughby, "poor Willoughby," as she now allowed -herself to call him, was constantly in her thoughts she -would not but have heard his vindication for the world, -and now blamed, now acquitted herself for having judged him -so harshly before. But her promise of relating it to her -sister was invariably painful. She dreaded the performance -of it, dreaded what its effect on Marianne might be -doubted whether after such an explanation she could ever -be happy with another and for a moment wished Willoughby -a widower. Then, remembering Colonel Brandon, reproved herself, -felt that to HIS sufferings and his constancy far more -than to his rival's, the reward of her sister was due, -and wished any thing rather than Mrs. Willoughby's death. -The shock of Colonel Brandon's errand at Barton had been -much softened to Mrs. Dashwood by her own previous alarm -for so great was her uneasiness about Marianne, that she -had already determined to set out for Cleveland on that -very day, without waiting for any further intelligence, -and had so far settled her journey before his arrival, -that the Careys were then expected every moment to fetch -Margaret away, as her mother was unwilling to take her -where there might be infection. -Marianne continued to mend every day, and the brilliant -cheerfulness of Mrs. Dashwood's looks and spirits proved -her to be, as she repeatedly declared herself, one of -the happiest women in the world. Elinor could not hear -the declaration, nor witness its proofs without sometimes -wondering whether her mother ever recollected Edward. -But Mrs. Dashwood, trusting to the temperate account -of her own disappointment which Elinor had sent her, -was led away by the exuberance of her joy to think only -of what would increase it. Marianne was restored to her -from a danger in which, as she now began to feel, -her own mistaken judgment in encouraging the unfortunate -attachment to Willoughby, had contributed to place her -and in her recovery she had yet another source of joy -unthought of by Elinor. It was thus imparted to her, -as soon as any opportunity of private conference -between them occurred. -"At last we are alone. My Elinor, you do not yet -know all my happiness. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne. -He has told me so himself." -Her daughter, feeling by turns both pleased and pained, -surprised and not surprised, was all silent attention. -"You are never like me, dear Elinor, or I should -wonder at your composure now. Had I sat down to wish -for any possible good to my family, I should have fixed -on Colonel Brandon's marrying one of you as the object -most desirable. And I believe Marianne will be the most -happy with him of the two." -Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, -because satisfied that none founded on an impartial -consideration of their age, characters, or feelings, -could be givenbut her mother must always be carried -away by her imagination on any interesting subject, -and therefore instead of an inquiry, she passed it off with a -smile. -"He opened his whole heart to me yesterday as we travelled. -It came out quite unawares, quite undesignedly. I, you may -well believe, could talk of nothing but my childhe could -not conceal his distress I saw that it equalled my own, -and he perhaps, thinking that mere friendship, as the world -now goes, would not justify so warm a sympathyor rather, -not thinking at all, I supposegiving way to irresistible -feelings, made me acquainted with his earnest, tender, constant, -affection for Marianne. He has loved her, my Elinor, ever since -the first moment of seeing her." -Here, however, Elinor perceived,not the language, -not the professions of Colonel Brandon, but the natural -embellishments of her mother's active fancy, which fashioned -every thing delightful to her as it chose. -"His regard for her, infinitely surpassing anything -that Willoughby ever felt or feigned, as much more warm, -as more sincere or constantwhich ever we are to call it -has subsisted through all the knowledge of dear Marianne's -unhappy prepossession for that worthless young manand -without selfishnesswithout encouraging a hopecould -he have seen her happy with anotherSuch a noble mind -such openness, such sincerityno one can be deceived -in HIM." -"Colonel Brandon's character," said Elinor, -"as an excellent man, is well established." -"I know it is"replied her mother seriously, "or -after such a warning, I should be the last to encourage -such affection, or even to be pleased by it. But his coming -for me as he did, with such active, such ready friendship, -is enough to prove him one of the worthiest of men." -"His character, however," answered Elinor, "does not rest -on ONE act of kindness, to which his affection for Marianne, -were humanity out of the case, would have prompted him. -To Mrs. Jennings, to the Middletons, he has been long -and intimately known they equally love and respect him -and even my own knowledge of him, though lately acquired, -is very considerable and so highly do I value and esteem him, -that if Marianne can be happy with him, I shall be as ready -as yourself to think our connection the greatest blessing -to us in the world. What answer did you give him?Did you -allow him to hope?" -"Oh my love, I could not then talk of hope to him -or to myself. Marianne might at that moment be dying. -But he did not ask for hope or encouragement. His was -an involuntary confidence, an irrepressible effusion -to a soothing friendnot an application to a parent. -Yet after a time I DID say, for at first I was quite -overcomethat if she lived, as I trusted she might, -my greatest happiness would lie in promoting their marriage -and since our arrival, since our delightful security, -I have repeated it to him more fully, have given him every -encouragement in my power. Time, a very little time, -I tell him, will do everythingMarianne's heart is -not to be wasted for ever on such a man as Willoughby. -His own merits must soon secure it." -"To judge from the Colonel's spirits, however, -you have not yet made him equally sanguine." -"No.He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply -rooted for any change in it under a great length of time, -and even supposing her heart again free, is too diffident -of himself to believe, that with such a difference of age -and disposition he could ever attach her. There, however, -he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond -hers as to be an advantage, as to make his character and -principles fixedand his disposition, I am well convinced, -is exactly the very one to make your sister happy. -And his person, his manners too, are all in his favour. -My partiality does not blind me he certainly is not -so handsome as Willoughbybut at the same time, -there is something much more pleasing in his countenance. -There was always a something,if you remember,in Willoughby's -eyes at times, which I did not like." -Elinor could NOT remember itbut her mother, -without waiting for her assent, continued, -"And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only -more pleasing to me than Willoughby's ever were, but they -are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching -to Marianne. Their gentleness, their genuine attention -to other people, and their manly unstudied simplicity -is much more accordant with her real disposition, than -the livelinessoften artificial, and often illtimed -of the other. I am very sure myself, that had Willoughby -turned out as really amiable, as he has proved himself -the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been so happy -with HIM, as she will be with Colonel Brandon." -She paused.Her daughter could not quite agree -with her, but her dissent was not heard, and therefore -gave no offence. -"At Delaford, she will be within an easy distance of me," -added Mrs. Dashwood, "even if I remain at Barton and in all -probability,for I hear it is a large village,indeed there -certainly MUST be some small house or cottage close by, -that would suit us quite as well as our present situation." -Poor Elinorhere was a new scheme for getting -her to Delafordbut her spirit was stubborn. -"His fortune toofor at my time of life you know, -everybody cares about THATand though I neither know -nor desire to know, what it really is, I am sure it must be -a good one." -Here they were interrupted by the entrance of a -third person, and Elinor withdrew to think it all over -in private, to wish success to her friend, and yet -in wishing it, to feel a pang for Willoughby. -CHAPTER -Marianne's illness, though weakening in its kind, -had not been long enough to make her recovery slow -and with youth, natural strength, and her mother's presence -in aid, it proceeded so smoothly as to enable her to remove, -within four days after the arrival of the latter, -into Mrs. Palmer's dressingroom. When there, at her own -particular request, for she was impatient to pour forth -her thanks to him for fetching her mother, Colonel Brandon -was invited to visit her. -His emotion on entering the room, in seeing her altered -looks, and in receiving the pale hand which she immediately -held out to him, was such, as, in Elinor's conjecture, -must arise from something more than his affection for Marianne, -or the consciousness of its being known to others -and she soon discovered in his melancholy eye and varying -complexion as he looked at her sister, the probable -recurrence of many past scenes of misery to his mind, -brought back by that resemblance between Marianne and Eliza -already acknowledged, and now strengthened by the hollow eye, -the sickly skin, the posture of reclining weakness, -and the warm acknowledgment of peculiar obligation. -Mrs. Dashwood, not less watchful of what passed than -her daughter, but with a mind very differently influenced, -and therefore watching to very different effect, -saw nothing in the Colonel's behaviour but what arose -from the most simple and selfevident sensations, while in -the actions and words of Marianne she persuaded herself -to think that something more than gratitude already dawned. -At the end of another day or two, Marianne growing -visibly stronger every twelve hours, Mrs. Dashwood, -urged equally by her own and her daughter's wishes, -began to talk of removing to Barton. On HER measures -depended those of her two friends Mrs. Jennings could -not quit Cleveland during the Dashwoods' stay and Colonel -Brandon was soon brought, by their united request, -to consider his own abode there as equally determinate, -if not equally indispensable. At his and Mrs. Jennings's -united request in return, Mrs. Dashwood was prevailed -on to accept the use of his carriage on her journey back, -for the better accommodation of her sick child and the Colonel, -at the joint invitation of Mrs. Dashwood and Mrs. Jennings, -whose active goodnature made her friendly and hospitable -for other people as well as herself, engaged with pleasure -to redeem it by a visit at the cottage, in the course -of a few weeks. -The day of separation and departure arrived -and Marianne, after taking so particular and lengthened -a leave of Mrs. Jennings, one so earnestly grateful, so full -of respect and kind wishes as seemed due to her own heart -from a secret acknowledgment of past inattention, and bidding -Colonel Brandon farewell with a cordiality of a friend, -was carefully assisted by him into the carriage, of which he -seemed anxious that she should engross at least half. -Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor then followed, and the others -were left by themselves, to talk of the travellers, -and feel their own dullness, till Mrs. Jennings was summoned -to her chaise to take comfort in the gossip of her maid -for the loss of her two young companions and Colonel Brandon -immediately afterwards took his solitary way to Delaford. -The Dashwoods were two days on the road, and Marianne -bore her journey on both, without essential fatigue. -Every thing that the most zealous affection, the most -solicitous care could do to render her comfortable, -was the office of each watchful companion, and each -found their reward in her bodily ease, and her calmness -of spirits. To Elinor, the observation of the latter -was particularly grateful. She, who had seen her week -after week so constantly suffering, oppressed by anguish -of heart which she had neither courage to speak of, -nor fortitude to conceal, now saw with a joy, which no other -could equally share, an apparent composure of mind, which, -in being the result as she trusted of serious reflection, -must eventually lead her to contentment and cheerfulness. -As they approached Barton, indeed, and entered -on scenes of which every field and every tree brought -some peculiar, some painful recollection, she grew silent -and thoughtful, and turning away her face from their notice, -sat earnestly gazing through the window. But here, -Elinor could neither wonder nor blame and when she saw, -as she assisted Marianne from the carriage, that she -had been crying, she saw only an emotion too natural -in itself to raise any thing less tender than pity, -and in its unobtrusiveness entitled to praise. In the -whole of her subsequent manner, she traced the direction -of a mind awakened to reasonable exertion for no sooner -had they entered their common sittingroom, than Marianne -turned her eyes around it with a look of resolute firmness, -as if determined at once to accustom herself to the sight -of every object with which the remembrance of Willoughby could -be connected.She said little, but every sentence aimed -at cheerfulness, and though a sigh sometimes escaped her, -it never passed away without the atonement of a smile. -After dinner she would try her pianoforte. She went to it -but the music on which her eye first rested was an opera, -procured for her by Willoughby, containing some of their -favourite duets, and bearing on its outward leaf her own name -in his handwriting.That would not do.She shook her head, -put the music aside, and after running over the keys -for a minute, complained of feebleness in her fingers, -and closed the instrument again declaring however with firmness -as she did so, that she should in future practice much. -The next morning produced no abatement in these -happy symptoms. On the contrary, with a mind and body -alike strengthened by rest, she looked and spoke with -more genuine spirit, anticipating the pleasure of -Margaret's return, and talking of the dear family party -which would then be restored, of their mutual pursuits -and cheerful society, as the only happiness worth a wish. -"When the weather is settled, and I have recovered -my strength," said she, "we will take long walks together -every day. We will walk to the farm at the edge of the down, -and see how the children go on we will walk to Sir John's -new plantations at Barton Cross, and the Abbeyland -and we will often go the old ruins of the Priory, -and try to trace its foundations as far as we are told -they once reached. I know we shall be happy. I know -the summer will pass happily away. I mean never to be -later in rising than six, and from that time till dinner -I shall divide every moment between music and reading. -I have formed my plan, and am determined to enter on a course -of serious study. Our own library is too well known to me, -to be resorted to for any thing beyond mere amusement. -But there are many works well worth reading at the Park -and there are others of more modern production which I -know I can borrow of Colonel Brandon. By reading only six -hours aday, I shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth -a great deal of instruction which I now feel myself to want." -Elinor honoured her for a plan which originated -so nobly as this though smiling to see the same eager -fancy which had been leading her to the extreme of languid -indolence and selfish repining, now at work in introducing -excess into a scheme of such rational employment and virtuous -selfcontrol. Her smile however changed to a sigh when she -remembered that promise to Willoughby was yet unfulfilled, -and feared she had that to communicate which might again -unsettle the mind of Marianne, and ruin at least for a time -this fair prospect of busy tranquillity. Willing therefore -to delay the evil hour, she resolved to wait till her -sister's health were more secure, before she appointed it. -But the resolution was made only to be broken. -Marianne had been two or three days at home, before -the weather was fine enough for an invalid like herself -to venture out. But at last a soft, genial morning appeared -such as might tempt the daughter's wishes and the -mother's confidence and Marianne, leaning on Elinor's arm, -was authorised to walk as long as she could without fatigue, -in the lane before the house. -The sisters set out at a pace, slow as the feebleness -of Marianne in an exercise hitherto untried since her -illness requiredand they had advanced only so far -beyond the house as to admit a full view of the hill, -the important hill behind, when pausing with her eyes -turned towards it, Marianne calmly said, -"There, exactly there,"pointing with one hand, -"on that projecting mound,there I fell and there -I first saw Willoughby." -Her voice sunk with the word, but presently reviving she added, -"I am thankful to find that I can look with so little pain -on the spotshall we ever talk on that subject, Elinor?" -hesitatingly it was said."Or will it be wrong?I can talk -of it now, I hope, as I ought to do." -Elinor tenderly invited her to be open. -"As for regret," said Marianne, "I have done with that, -as far as HE is concerned. I do not mean to talk to you -of what my feelings have been for him, but what they -are NOW.At present, if I could be satisfied on one point, -if I could be allowed to think that he was not ALWAYS -acting a part, not ALWAYS deceiving mebut above all, -if I could be assured that he never was so VERY wicked -as my fears have sometimes fancied him, since the story -of that unfortunate girl" -She stopt. Elinor joyfully treasured her words -as she answered, -"If you could be assured of that, you think you -should be easy." -"Yes. My peace of mind is doubly involved in it -for not only is it horrible to suspect a person, who has -been what HE has been to ME, of such designs,but what must -it make me appear to myself?What in a situation like mine, -but a most shamefully unguarded affection could expose -me to" -"How then," asked her sister, "would you account -for his behaviour?" -"I would suppose him,Oh, how gladly would I suppose him, -only fickle, very, very fickle." -Elinor said no more. She was debating within herself -on the eligibility of beginning her story directly, -or postponing it till Marianne were in stronger health -and they crept on for a few minutes in silence. -"I am not wishing him too much good," said Marianne -at last with a sigh, "when I wish his secret reflections -may be no more unpleasant than my own. He will suffer -enough in them." -"Do you compare your conduct with his?" -"No. I compare it with what it ought to have been -I compare it with yours." -"Our situations have borne little resemblance." -"They have borne more than our conduct.Do not, -my dearest Elinor, let your kindness defend what I know -your judgment must censure. My illness has made me think -It has given me leisure and calmness for serious recollection. -Long before I was enough recovered to talk, I was perfectly -able to reflect. I considered the past I saw in my -own behaviour, since the beginning of our acquaintance -with him last autumn, nothing but a series of imprudence -towards myself, and want of kindness to others. -I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings, -and that my want of fortitude under them had almost led -me to the grave. My illness, I well knew, had been -entirely brought on by myself by such negligence of my -own health, as I had felt even at the time to be wrong. -Had I died,it would have been selfdestruction. I -did not know my danger till the danger was removed -but with such feelings as these reflections gave me, -I wonder at my recovery,wonder that the very eagerness -of my desire to live, to have time for atonement to my God, -and to you all, did not kill me at once. Had I died, -in what peculiar misery should I have left you, my nurse, -my friend, my sisterYou, who had seen all the fretful -selfishness of my latter days who had known all the -murmurings of my heartHow should I have lived in YOUR -remembranceMy mother too How could you have consoled -herI cannot express my own abhorrence of myself. -Whenever I looked towards the past, I saw some duty neglected, -or some failing indulged. Every body seemed injured by me. -The kindness, the unceasing kindness of Mrs. Jennings, -I had repaid with ungrateful contempt. To the Middletons, -to the Palmers, the Steeles, to every common acquaintance even, -I had been insolent and unjust with a heart hardened -against their merits, and a temper irritated by their -very attention.To John, to Fanny,yes, even to them, -little as they deserve, I had given less than their due. -But you,you above all, above my mother, had been wronged -by me. I, and only I, knew your heart and its sorrows -yet to what did it influence me?not to any compassion -that could benefit you or myself.Your example was -before me but to what avail?Was I more considerate -of you and your comfort? Did I imitate your forbearance, -or lessen your restraints, by taking any part in those -offices of general complaisance or particular gratitude -which you had hitherto been left to discharge alone?No -not less when I knew you to be unhappy, than when I -had believed you at ease, did I turn away from every -exertion of duty or friendship scarcely allowing sorrow -to exist but with me, regretting only THAT heart -which had deserted and wronged me, and leaving you, -for or I professed an unbounded affection, to be miserable -for my sake." -Here ceased the rapid flow of her selfreproving spirit -and Elinor, impatient to soothe, though too honest -to flatter, gave her instantly that praise and support -which her frankness and her contrition so well deserved. -Marianne pressed her hand and replied, -"You are very good.The future must be my proof. -I have laid down my plan, and if I am capable of adhering -to itmy feelings shall be governed and my temper improved. -They shall no longer worry others, nor torture myself. -I shall now live solely for my family. You, my mother, -and Margaret, must henceforth be all the world to me -you will share my affections entirely between you. -From you, from my home, I shall never again have the smallest -incitement to move and if I do mix in other society, -it will be only to shew that my spirit is humbled, -my heart amended, and that I can practise the civilities, -the lesser duties of life, with gentleness and forbearance. -As for Willoughbyto say that I shall soon or that I shall -ever forget him, would be idle. His remembrance can be overcome -by no change of circumstances or opinions. But it shall -be regulated, it shall be checked by religion, by reason, -by constant employment." -She pausedand added in a low voice, "If I could -but know HIS heart, everything would become easy." -Elinor, who had now been for some time reflecting -on the propriety or impropriety of speedily hazarding -her narration, without feeling at all nearer decision than -at first, heard this and perceiving that as reflection -did nothing, resolution must do all, soon found herself -leading to the fact. -She managed the recital, as she hoped, with address -prepared her anxious listener with caution related simply -and honestly the chief points on which Willoughby -grounded his apology did justice to his repentance, -and softened only his protestations of present regard. -Marianne said not a word.She trembled, her eyes -were fixed on the ground, and her lips became whiter -than even sickness had left them. A thousand inquiries -sprung up from her heart, but she dared not urge one. -She caught every syllable with panting eagerness her hand, -unknowingly to herself, closely pressed her sister's, and -tears covered her cheeks. -Elinor, dreading her being tired, led her towards home -and till they reached the door of the cottage, -easily conjecturing what her curiosity must be -though no question was suffered to speak it, talked of -nothing but Willoughby, and their conversation together -and was carefully minute in every particular of speech -and look, where minuteness could be safely indulged. -As soon as they entered the house, Marianne with a kiss -of gratitude and these two words just articulate through -her tears, "Tell mama," withdrew from her sister and -walked slowly up stairs. Elinor would not attempt -to disturb a solitude so reasonable as what she now sought -and with a mind anxiously prearranging its result, -and a resolution of reviving the subject again, -should Marianne fail to do it, she turned into the parlour -to fulfill her parting injunction. -CHAPTER -Mrs. Dashwood did not hear unmoved the vindication -of her former favourite. She rejoiced in his being -cleared from some part of his imputed guiltshe was -sorry for himshe wished him happy. But the feelings -of the past could not be recalled.Nothing could restore -him with a faith unbrokena character unblemished, -to Marianne. Nothing could do away the knowledge -of what the latter had suffered through his means, -nor remove the guilt of his conduct towards Eliza. -Nothing could replace him, therefore, in her former esteem, -nor injure the interests of Colonel Brandon. -Had Mrs. Dashwood, like her daughter, heard Willoughby's -story from himselfhad she witnessed his distress, -and been under the influence of his countenance and his -manner, it is probable that her compassion would have -been greater. But it was neither in Elinor's power, -nor in her wish, to rouse such feelings in another, by her -retailed explanation, as had at first been called forth -in herself. Reflection had given calmness to her judgment, -and sobered her own opinion of Willoughby's deserts -she wished, therefore, to declare only the simple truth, -and lay open such facts as were really due to his character, -without any embellishment of tenderness to lead the -fancy astray. -In the evening, when they were all three together, -Marianne began voluntarily to speak of him again -but that it was not without an effort, the restless, -unquiet thoughtfulness in which she had been for some time -previously sittingher rising colour, as she spoke, -and her unsteady voice, plainly shewed. -"I wish to assure you both," said she, "that I see -every thingas you can desire me to do." -Mrs. Dashwood would have interrupted her instantly -with soothing tenderness, had not Elinor, who really wished -to hear her sister's unbiased opinion, by an eager sign, -engaged her silence. Marianne slowly continued -"It is a great relief to mewhat Elinor told -me this morningI have now heard exactly what I -wished to hear."For some moments her voice was lost -but recovering herself, she added, and with greater -calmness than before"I am now perfectly satisfied, -I wish for no change. I never could have been happy -with him, after knowing, as sooner or later I must -have known, all this.I should have had no confidence, -no esteem. Nothing could have done it away to my feelings." -"I know itI know it," cried her mother. -"Happy with a man of libertine practicesWith one -who so injured the peace of the dearest of our friends, -and the best of menNomy Marianne has not a heart -to be made happy with such a manHer conscience, her -sensitive conscience, would have felt all that the -conscience of her husband ought to have felt." -Marianne sighed, and repeated, "I wish for no change." -"You consider the matter," said Elinor, "exactly as -a good mind and a sound understanding must consider it -and I dare say you perceive, as well as myself, not only -in this, but in many other circumstances, reason enough -to be convinced that your marriage must have involved you -in many certain troubles and disappointments, in which -you would have been poorly supported by an affection, -on his side, much less certain. Had you married, -you must have been always poor. His expensiveness is -acknowledged even by himself, and his whole conduct declares -that selfdenial is a word hardly understood by him. -His demands and your inexperience together, on a small, -very small income, must have brought on distresses which -would not be the LESS grievous to you, from having been -entirely unknown and unthought of before. YOUR sense -of honour and honesty would have led you, I know, -when aware of your situation, to attempt all the economy -that would appear to you possible and, perhaps, as long -as your frugality retrenched only on your own comfort, -you might have been suffered to practice it, but beyond that -and how little could the utmost of your single management -do to stop the ruin which had begun before your marriage? -Beyond THAT, had you endeavoured, however reasonably, -to abridge HIS enjoyments, is it not to be feared, that instead -of prevailing on feelings so selfish to consent to it, -you would have lessened your own influence on his heart, -and made him regret the connection which had involved him -in such difficulties?" -Marianne's lips quivered, and she repeated the word -"Selfish?" in a tone that implied"do you really think -him selfish?" -"The whole of his behaviour," replied Elinor, -"from the beginning to the end of the affair, has been -grounded on selfishness. It was selfishness which first -made him sport with your affections which afterwards, -when his own were engaged, made him delay the confession -of it, and which finally carried him from Barton. -His own enjoyment, or his own ease, was, in every particular, -his ruling principle." -"It is very true. MY happiness never was his object." -"At present," continued Elinor, "he regrets what he -has done. And why does he regret it?Because he finds -it has not answered towards himself. It has not made -him happy. His circumstances are now unembarrassedhe -suffers from no evil of that kind and he thinks only -that he has married a woman of a less amiable temper -than yourself. But does it follow that had he married you, -he would have been happy?The inconveniences would have -been different. He would then have suffered under the -pecuniary distresses which, because they are removed, -he now reckons as nothing. He would have had a wife -of whose temper he could make no complaint, but he would -have been always necessitousalways poor and probably -would soon have learned to rank the innumerable comforts -of a clear estate and good income as of far more importance, -even to domestic happiness, than the mere temper of a wife." -"I have not a doubt of it," said Marianne "and I -have nothing to regretnothing but my own folly." -"Rather say your mother's imprudence, my child," -said Mrs. Dashwood "SHE must be answerable." -Marianne would not let her proceedand Elinor, -satisfied that each felt their own error, wished to avoid -any survey of the past that might weaken her sister's -spirits she, therefore, pursuing the first subject, -immediately continued, -"One observation may, I think, be fairly drawn from -the whole of the storythat all Willoughby's difficulties -have arisen from the first offence against virtue, in his -behaviour to Eliza Williams. That crime has been the origin -of every lesser one, and of all his present discontents." -Marianne assented most feelingly to the remark -and her mother was led by it to an enumeration of Colonel -Brandon's injuries and merits, warm as friendship -and design could unitedly dictate. Her daughter did -not look, however, as if much of it were heard by her. -Elinor, according to her expectation, saw on the two -or three following days, that Marianne did not continue -to gain strength as she had done but while her resolution -was unsubdued, and she still tried to appear cheerful -and easy, her sister could safely trust to the effect -of time upon her health. -Margaret returned, and the family were again all -restored to each other, again quietly settled at the cottage -and if not pursuing their usual studies with quite -so much vigour as when they first came to Barton, -at least planning a vigorous prosecution of them in future. -Elinor grew impatient for some tidings of Edward. -She had heard nothing of him since her leaving London, -nothing new of his plans, nothing certain even of his -present abode. Some letters had passed between her -and her brother, in consequence of Marianne's illness -and in the first of John's, there had been this sentence -"We know nothing of our unfortunate Edward, and can make no -enquiries on so prohibited a subject, but conclude him -to be still at Oxford" which was all the intelligence -of Edward afforded her by the correspondence, for his name -was not even mentioned in any of the succeeding letters. -She was not doomed, however, to be long in ignorance of -his measures. -Their manservant had been sent one morning to Exeter -on business and when, as he waited at table, he had -satisfied the inquiries of his mistress as to the event -of his errand, this was his voluntary communication -"I suppose you know, ma'am, that Mr. Ferrars is married." -Marianne gave a violent start, fixed her eyes -upon Elinor, saw her turning pale, and fell back in her -chair in hysterics. Mrs. Dashwood, whose eyes, as she -answered the servant's inquiry, had intuitively taken -the same direction, was shocked to perceive by Elinor's -countenance how much she really suffered, and a moment -afterwards, alike distressed by Marianne's situation, -knew not on which child to bestow her principal attention. -The servant, who saw only that Miss Marianne was -taken ill, had sense enough to call one of the maids, -who, with Mrs. Dashwood's assistance, supported her into -the other room. By that time, Marianne was rather better, -and her mother leaving her to the care of Margaret -and the maid, returned to Elinor, who, though still -much disordered, had so far recovered the use of her reason -and voice as to be just beginning an inquiry of Thomas, -as to the source of his intelligence. Mrs. Dashwood -immediately took all that trouble on herself and Elinor -had the benefit of the information without the exertion -of seeking it. -"Who told you that Mr. Ferrars was married, Thomas?" -"I see Mr. Ferrars myself, ma'am, this morning -in Exeter, and his lady too, Miss Steele as was. They was -stopping in a chaise at the door of the New London Inn, -as I went there with a message from Sally at the Park -to her brother, who is one of the postboys. I happened -to look up as I went by the chaise, and so I see directly -it was the youngest Miss Steele so I took off my hat, -and she knew me and called to me, and inquired after you, -ma'am, and the young ladies, especially Miss Marianne, -and bid me I should give her compliments and Mr. Ferrars's, -their best compliments and service, and how sorry they -was they had not time to come on and see you, but they was -in a great hurry to go forwards, for they was going further -down for a little while, but howsever, when they come back, -they'd make sure to come and see you." -"But did she tell you she was married, Thomas?" -"Yes, ma'am. She smiled, and said how she -had changed her name since she was in these parts. -She was always a very affable and freespoken young lady, -and very civil behaved. So, I made free to wish her joy." -"Was Mr. Ferrars in the carriage with her?" -"Yes, ma'am, I just see him leaning back in it, -but he did not look uphe never was a gentleman much -for talking." -Elinor's heart could easily account for his not -putting himself forward and Mrs. Dashwood probably -found the same explanation. -"Was there no one else in the carriage?" -"No, ma'am, only they two." -"Do you know where they came from?" -"They come straight from town, as Miss Lucy -Mrs. Ferrars told me." -"And are they going farther westward?" -"Yes, ma'ambut not to bide long. They will soon -be back again, and then they'd be sure and call here." -Mrs. Dashwood now looked at her daughter -but Elinor knew better than to expect them. -She recognised the whole of Lucy in the message, and was -very confident that Edward would never come near them. -She observed in a low voice, to her mother, that they -were probably going down to Mr. Pratt's, near Plymouth. -Thomas's intelligence seemed over. Elinor looked -as if she wished to hear more. -"Did you see them off, before you came away?" -"No, ma'amthe horses were just coming out, but I -could not bide any longer I was afraid of being late." -"Did Mrs. Ferrars look well?" -"Yes, ma'am, she said how she was very well -and to my mind she was always a very handsome young -ladyand she seemed vastly contented." -Mrs. Dashwood could think of no other question, -and Thomas and the tablecloth, now alike needless, -were soon afterwards dismissed. Marianne had already sent -to say, that she should eat nothing more. Mrs. Dashwood's -and Elinor's appetites were equally lost, and Margaret -might think herself very well off, that with so much -uneasiness as both her sisters had lately experienced, -so much reason as they had often had to be careless -of their meals, she had never been obliged to go without -her dinner before. -When the dessert and the wine were arranged, -and Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor were left by themselves, -they remained long together in a similarity of thoughtfulness -and silence. Mrs. Dashwood feared to hazard any remark, -and ventured not to offer consolation. She now found -that she had erred in relying on Elinor's representation -of herself and justly concluded that every thing -had been expressly softened at the time, to spare her -from an increase of unhappiness, suffering as she then -had suffered for Marianne. She found that she had been -misled by the careful, the considerate attention of -her daughter, to think the attachment, which once she -had so well understood, much slighter in reality, than -she had been wont to believe, or than it was now proved -to be. She feared that under this persuasion she had -been unjust, inattentive, nay, almost unkind, to her Elinor -that Marianne's affliction, because more acknowledged, -more immediately before her, had too much engrossed -her tenderness, and led her away to forget that in Elinor -she might have a daughter suffering almost as much, -certainly with less selfprovocation, and greater fortitude. -CHAPTER -Elinor now found the difference between the expectation -of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told -to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that -in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, -while Edward remained single, that something would occur -to prevent his marrying Lucy that some resolution of -his own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible -opportunity of establishment for the lady, would arise -to assist the happiness of all. But he was now married -and she condemned her heart for the lurking flattery, -which so much heightened the pain of the intelligence. -That he should be married soon, before as she imagined -he could be in orders, and consequently before he could -be in possession of the living, surprised her a little -at first. But she soon saw how likely it was that Lucy, -in her selfprovident care, in her haste to secure him, -should overlook every thing but the risk of delay. -They were married, married in town, and now hastening -down to her uncle's. What had Edward felt on being within -four miles from Barton, on seeing her mother's servant, -on hearing Lucy's message -They would soon, she supposed, be settled at -Delaford.Delaford,that place in which so much -conspired to give her an interest which she wished -to be acquainted with, and yet desired to avoid. -She saw them in an instant in their parsonagehouse saw -in Lucy, the active, contriving manager, uniting at once -a desire of smart appearance with the utmost frugality, -and ashamed to be suspected of half her economical practices -pursuing her own interest in every thought, courting the -favour of Colonel Brandon, of Mrs. Jennings, and of every -wealthy friend. In Edwardshe knew not what she saw, -nor what she wished to seehappy or unhappy,nothing -pleased her she turned away her head from every sketch of him. -Elinor flattered herself that some one of their -connections in London would write to them to announce -the event, and give farther particulars,but day after -day passed off, and brought no letter, no tidings. -Though uncertain that any one were to blame, she found -fault with every absent friend. They were all thoughtless -or indolent. -"When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma'am?" -was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience -of her mind to have something going on. -"I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather -expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly -pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised -to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day." -This was gaining something, something to look forward to. -Colonel Brandon must have some information to give. -Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure -of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. -He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it -was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more -and she trembled in expectation of it. Butit was -NOT Colonel Brandonneither his airnor his height. -Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward. -She looked again. He had just dismountedshe could not be -mistaken,it WAS Edward. She moved away and sat down. -"He comes from Mr. Pratt's purposely to see us. I WILL be -calm I WILL be mistress of myself." -In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise -aware of the mistake. She saw her mother and Marianne -change colour saw them look at herself, and whisper -a few sentences to each other. She would have given -the world to be able to speakand to make them understand -that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear -in their behaviour to himbut she had no utterance, -and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion. -Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited -in silence for the appearance of their visitor. -His footsteps were heard along the gravel path in a moment -he was in the passage, and in another he was before them. -His countenance, as he entered the room, was not -too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white -with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his -reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. -Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, -to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant -in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, -met with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, -and wished him joy. -He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. -Elinor's lips had moved with her mother's, and, when the -moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken -hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a -countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again -and talked of the weather. -Marianne had retreated as much as possible -out of sight, to conceal her distress and Margaret, -understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, -thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore -took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained -a strict silence. -When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness -of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put -an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he -had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, -he replied in the affirmative. -Another pause. -Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing -the sound of her own voice, now said, -"Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?" -"At Longstaple" he replied, with an air of surprise. -"No, my mother is in town." -"I meant," said Elinor, taking up some work from -the table, "to inquire for Mrs. EDWARD Ferrars." -She dared not look upbut her mother and Marianne both -turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, -looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said, -"Perhaps you meanmy brotheryou mean Mrs.Mrs. -ROBERT Ferrars." -"Mrs. Robert Ferrars"was repeated by Marianne and her -mother in an accent of the utmost amazementand though -Elinor could not speak, even HER eyes were fixed on him -with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, -and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing -what to do took up a pair of scissors that lay there, -and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting -the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice, -"Perhaps you do not knowyou may not have heard -that my brother is lately married toto the youngestto -Miss Lucy Steele." -His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment -by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over -her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly -know where she was. -"Yes," said he, "they were married last week, -and are now at Dawlish." -Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran -out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, -burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would -never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, -rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw -or even heard, her emotion for immediately afterwards -he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, -no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, -and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, -and walked out towards the villageleaving the others -in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change -in his situation, so wonderful and so suddena perplexity -which they had no means of lessening but by their -own conjectures. -CHAPTER -Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his -release might appear to the whole family, it was certain -that Edward was free and to what purpose that freedom would -be employed was easily predetermined by allfor after -experiencing the blessings of ONE imprudent engagement, -contracted without his mother's consent, as he had already -done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected -of him in the failure of THAT, than the immediate contraction -of another. -His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. -It was only to ask Elinor to marry himand considering -that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, -it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable -in the present case as he really did, so much in need of -encouragement and fresh air. -How soon he had walked himself into the proper -resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising -it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, -and how he was received, need not be particularly told. -This only need be saidthat when they all sat down to -table at four o'clock, about three hours after his arrival, -he had secured his lady, engaged her mother's consent, -and was not only in the rapturous profession of -the lover, but, in the reality of reason and truth, -one of the happiest of men. His situation indeed was -more than commonly joyful. He had more than the ordinary -triumph of accepted love to swell his heart, and raise -his spirits. He was released without any reproach -to himself, from an entanglement which had long formed -his misery, from a woman whom he had long ceased to love -and elevated at once to that security with another, -which he must have thought of almost with despair, -as soon as he had learnt to consider it with desire. -He was brought, not from doubt or suspense, but from -misery to happinessand the change was openly spoken -in such a genuine, flowing, grateful cheerfulness, -as his friends had never witnessed in him before. -His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, -all its errors confessed, and his first boyish attachment -to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twentyfour. -"It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side," -said he, "the consequence of ignorance of the world -and want of employment. Had my brother given me -some active profession when I was removed at eighteen -from the care of Mr. Pratt, I thinknay, I am sure, -it would never have happened for though I left Longstaple -with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable -preference for his niece, yet had I then had any pursuit, -any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance -from her for a few months, I should very soon have -outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing -more with the world, as in such case I must have done. -But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any -profession chosen for me, or being allowed to chuse any myself, -I returned home to be completely idle and for the first -twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, -which belonging to the university would have given me -for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. -I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy -myself in love and as my mother did not make my home -in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, -no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, -it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, -where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure -of a welcome and accordingly I spent the greatest part -of my time there from eighteen to nineteen Lucy appeared -everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty -tooat least I thought so THEN and I had seen so little -of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see -no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, -foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since -in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural -or an inexcusable piece of folly." -The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds -and the happiness of the Dashwoods, was suchso greatas -promised them all, the satisfaction of a sleepless night. -Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be comfortable, knew not how -to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, how to be enough -thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy, -nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained -conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, -the sight and society of both. -Marianne could speak HER happiness only by tears. -Comparisons would occurregrets would ariseand her joy, -though sincere as her love for her sister, was of a kind to -give her neither spirits nor language. -But Elinorhow are HER feelings to be described?From -the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, -that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying -the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every -thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment -had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude -removed, compared her situation with what so lately it -had been,saw him honourably released from his former -engagement, saw him instantly profiting by the release, -to address herself and declare an affection as tender, -as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,she -was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity -and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily -familiarized with any change for the better, it required -several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any -degree of tranquillity to her heart. -Edward was now fixed at the cottage at least for -a weekfor whatever other claims might be made on him, -it was impossible that less than a week should be given -up to the enjoyment of Elinor's company, or suffice -to say half that was to be said of the past, the present, -and the futurefor though a very few hours spent in -the hard labor of incessant talking will despatch more -subjects than can really be in common between any two -rational creatures, yet with lovers it is different. -Between THEM no subject is finished, no communication -is even made, till it has been made at least twenty -times over. -Lucy's marriage, the unceasing and reasonable wonder -among them all, formed of course one of the earliest -discussions of the loversand Elinor's particular knowledge -of each party made it appear to her in every view, as one -of the most extraordinary and unaccountable circumstances -she had ever heard. How they could be thrown together, -and by what attraction Robert could be drawn on to marry -a girl, of whose beauty she had herself heard him speak -without any admiration,a girl too already engaged -to his brother, and on whose account that brother had been -thrown off by his familyit was beyond her comprehension -to make out. To her own heart it was a delightful affair, -to her imagination it was even a ridiculous one, but -to her reason, her judgment, it was completely a puzzle. -Edward could only attempt an explanation by supposing, -that, perhaps, at first accidentally meeting, the vanity -of the one had been so worked on by the flattery -of the other, as to lead by degrees to all the rest. -Elinor remembered what Robert had told her in Harley Street, -of his opinion of what his own mediation in his brother's -affairs might have done, if applied to in time. -She repeated it to Edward. -"THAT was exactly like Robert,"was his immediate -observation."And THAT," he presently added, "might -perhaps be in HIS head when the acquaintance between -them first began. And Lucy perhaps at first might -think only of procuring his good offices in my favour. -Other designs might afterward arise." -How long it had been carrying on between them, -however, he was equally at a loss with herself to make out -for at Oxford, where he had remained for choice ever since -his quitting London, he had had no means of hearing of her -but from herself, and her letters to the very last were -neither less frequent, nor less affectionate than usual. -Not the smallest suspicion, therefore, had ever occurred -to prepare him for what followedand when at last it -burst on him in a letter from Lucy herself, he had been -for some time, he believed, half stupified between -the wonder, the horror, and the joy of such a deliverance. -He put the letter into Elinor's hands. -"DEAR SIR, -"Being very sure I have long lost your affections, -I have thought myself at liberty to bestow my own -on another, and have no doubt of being as happy with -him as I once used to think I might be with you -but I scorn to accept a hand while the heart was -another's. Sincerely wish you happy in your choice, -and it shall not be my fault if we are not always -good friends, as our near relationship now makes -proper. I can safely say I owe you no illwill, -and am sure you will be too generous to do us any -ill offices. Your brother has gained my affections -entirely, and as we could not live without one -another, we are just returned from the altar, and -are now on our way to Dawlish for a few weeks, which -place your dear brother has great curiosity to see, -but thought I would first trouble you with these -few lines, and shall always remain, -"Your sincere wellwisher, friend, and sister, -"LUCY FERRARS. -"I have burnt all your letters, and will return -your picture the first opportunity. Please to destroy -my scrawlsbut the ring with my hair you are very -welcome to keep." -Elinor read and returned it without any comment. -"I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition," -said Edward."For worlds would not I have had a letter -of hers seen by YOU in former days.In a sister it -is bad enough, but in a wifehow I have blushed over -the pages of her writingand I believe I may say that -since the first half year of our foolishbusinessthis -is the only letter I ever received from her, of which -the substance made me any amends for the defect of the style." -"However it may have come about," said Elinor, -after a pause,"they are certainly married. And your mother -has brought on herself a most appropriate punishment. -The independence she settled on Robert, through resentment -against you, has put it in his power to make his own choice -and she has actually been bribing one son with a thousand -ayear, to do the very deed which she disinherited the -other for intending to do. She will hardly be less hurt, -I suppose, by Robert's marrying Lucy, than she would have -been by your marrying her." -"She will be more hurt by it, for Robert always -was her favourite.She will be more hurt by it, -and on the same principle will forgive him much sooner." -In what state the affair stood at present between them, -Edward knew not, for no communication with any of his family -had yet been attempted by him. He had quitted Oxford -within four and twenty hours after Lucy's letter arrived, -and with only one object before him, the nearest road -to Barton, had had no leisure to form any scheme of conduct, -with which that road did not hold the most intimate connection. -He could do nothing till he were assured of his fate with -Miss Dashwood and by his rapidity in seeking THAT fate, -it is to be supposed, in spite of the jealousy with -which he had once thought of Colonel Brandon, in spite -of the modesty with which he rated his own deserts, -and the politeness with which he talked of his doubts, -he did not, upon the whole, expect a very cruel reception. -It was his business, however, to say that he DID, and he -said it very prettily. What he might say on the subject -a twelvemonth after, must be referred to the imagination -of husbands and wives. -That Lucy had certainly meant to deceive, to go off -with a flourish of malice against him in her message -by Thomas, was perfectly clear to Elinor and Edward himself, -now thoroughly enlightened on her character, had no -scruple in believing her capable of the utmost meanness -of wanton illnature. Though his eyes had been long opened, -even before his acquaintance with Elinor began, to her -ignorance and a want of liberality in some of her opinions -they had been equally imputed, by him, to her want -of education and till her last letter reached him, -he had always believed her to be a welldisposed, -goodhearted girl, and thoroughly attached to himself. -Nothing but such a persuasion could have prevented -his putting an end to an engagement, which, long before -the discovery of it laid him open to his mother's anger, -had been a continual source of disquiet and regret to him. -"I thought it my duty," said he, "independent of my feelings, -to give her the option of continuing the engagement or not, -when I was renounced by my mother, and stood to all -appearance without a friend in the world to assist me. -In such a situation as that, where there seemed nothing -to tempt the avarice or the vanity of any living creature, -how could I suppose, when she so earnestly, so warmly insisted -on sharing my fate, whatever it might be, that any thing -but the most disinterested affection was her inducement? -And even now, I cannot comprehend on what motive she acted, -or what fancied advantage it could be to her, to be -fettered to a man for whom she had not the smallest regard, -and who had only two thousand pounds in the world. -She could not foresee that Colonel Brandon would give me a -living." -"No but she might suppose that something would occur -in your favour that your own family might in time relent. -And at any rate, she lost nothing by continuing the engagement, -for she has proved that it fettered neither her inclination -nor her actions. The connection was certainly a -respectable one, and probably gained her consideration among -her friends and, if nothing more advantageous occurred, -it would be better for her to marry YOU than be single." -Edward was, of course, immediately convinced that -nothing could have been more natural than Lucy's conduct, -nor more selfevident than the motive of it. -Elinor scolded him, harshly as ladies always scold -the imprudence which compliments themselves, for having -spent so much time with them at Norland, when he must -have felt his own inconstancy. -"Your behaviour was certainly very wrong," said she -"becauseto say nothing of my own conviction, our relations -were all led away by it to fancy and expect WHAT, as you -were THEN situated, could never be." -He could only plead an ignorance of his own heart, -and a mistaken confidence in the force of his engagement. -"I was simple enough to think, that because my FAITH -was plighted to another, there could be no danger in my being -with you and that the consciousness of my engagement was -to keep my heart as safe and sacred as my honour. I felt -that I admired you, but I told myself it was only friendship -and till I began to make comparisons between yourself -and Lucy, I did not know how far I was got. After that, -I suppose, I WAS wrong in remaining so much in Sussex, -and the arguments with which I reconciled myself to the -expediency of it, were no better than theseThe danger -is my own I am doing no injury to anybody but myself." -Elinor smiled, and shook her head. -Edward heard with pleasure of Colonel Brandon's -being expected at the Cottage, as he really wished -not only to be better acquainted with him, but to have an -opportunity of convincing him that he no longer resented -his giving him the living of Delaford"Which, at present," -said he, "after thanks so ungraciously delivered as mine -were on the occasion, he must think I have never forgiven -him for offering." -NOW he felt astonished himself that he had never yet -been to the place. But so little interest had be taken -in the matter, that he owed all his knowledge of the house, -garden, and glebe, extent of the parish, condition of -the land, and rate of the tithes, to Elinor herself, -who had heard so much of it from Colonel Brandon, -and heard it with so much attention, as to be entirely -mistress of the subject. -One question after this only remained undecided, -between them, one difficulty only was to be overcome. -They were brought together by mutual affection, -with the warmest approbation of their real friends -their intimate knowledge of each other seemed to make -their happiness certainand they only wanted something -to live upon. Edward had two thousand pounds, and Elinor -one, which, with Delaford living, was all that they could -call their own for it was impossible that Mrs. Dashwood -should advance anything and they were neither of them -quite enough in love to think that three hundred and fifty -pounds ayear would supply them with the comforts of life. -Edward was not entirely without hopes of some -favourable change in his mother towards him and on THAT -he rested for the residue of their income. But Elinor -had no such dependence for since Edward would still -be unable to marry Miss Morton, and his chusing herself -had been spoken of in Mrs. Ferrars's flattering language -as only a lesser evil than his chusing Lucy Steele, -she feared that Robert's offence would serve no other -purpose than to enrich Fanny. -About four days after Edward's arrival Colonel -Brandon appeared, to complete Mrs. Dashwood's satisfaction, -and to give her the dignity of having, for the first time -since her living at Barton, more company with her than -her house would hold. Edward was allowed to retain the -privilege of first comer, and Colonel Brandon therefore -walked every night to his old quarters at the Park -from whence he usually returned in the morning, early enough -to interrupt the lovers' first teteatete before breakfast. -A three weeks' residence at Delaford, where, -in his evening hours at least, he had little to do -but to calculate the disproportion between thirtysix -and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind -which needed all the improvement in Marianne's looks, -all the kindness of her welcome, and all the encouragement -of her mother's language, to make it cheerful. -Among such friends, however, and such flattery, he did revive. -No rumour of Lucy's marriage had yet reached himhe knew -nothing of what had passed and the first hours of his -visit were consequently spent in hearing and in wondering. -Every thing was explained to him by Mrs. Dashwood, -and he found fresh reason to rejoice in what he had done -for Mr. Ferrars, since eventually it promoted the interest -of Elinor. -It would be needless to say, that the gentlemen advanced -in the good opinion of each other, as they advanced in each -other's acquaintance, for it could not be otherwise. -Their resemblance in good principles and good sense, -in disposition and manner of thinking, would probably -have been sufficient to unite them in friendship, -without any other attraction but their being in love -with two sisters, and two sisters fond of each other, -made that mutual regard inevitable and immediate, -which might otherwise have waited the effect of time -and judgment. -The letters from town, which a few days before would -have made every nerve in Elinor's body thrill with transport, -now arrived to be read with less emotion that mirth. -Mrs. Jennings wrote to tell the wonderful tale, to vent her -honest indignation against the jilting girl, and pour forth -her compassion towards poor Mr. Edward, who, she was sure, -had quite doted upon the worthless hussy, and was now, -by all accounts, almost brokenhearted, at Oxford. -"I do think," she continued, "nothing was ever carried -on so sly for it was but two days before Lucy called -and sat a couple of hours with me. Not a soul suspected -anything of the matter, not even Nancy, who, poor soul -came crying to me the day after, in a great fright -for fear of Mrs. Ferrars, as well as not knowing how to -get to Plymouth for Lucy it seems borrowed all her -money before she went off to be married, on purpose -we suppose to make a show with, and poor Nancy had not -seven shillings in the worldso I was very glad to give -her five guineas to take her down to Exeter, where she -thinks of staying three or four weeks with Mrs. Burgess, -in hopes, as I tell her, to fall in with the Doctor again. -And I must say that Lucy's crossness not to take them -along with them in the chaise is worse than all. -Poor Mr. Edward I cannot get him out of my head, but you -must send for him to Barton, and Miss Marianne must try to -comfort him." -Mr. Dashwood's strains were more solemn. -Mrs. Ferrars was the most unfortunate of womenpoor -Fanny had suffered agonies of sensibilityand he -considered the existence of each, under such a blow, -with grateful wonder. Robert's offence was unpardonable, -but Lucy's was infinitely worse. Neither of them were -ever again to be mentioned to Mrs. Ferrars and even, -if she might hereafter be induced to forgive her son, -his wife should never be acknowledged as her daughter, -nor be permitted to appear in her presence. The secrecy -with which everything had been carried on between them, -was rationally treated as enormously heightening -the crime, because, had any suspicion of it occurred -to the others, proper measures would have been taken -to prevent the marriage and he called on Elinor to join -with him in regretting that Lucy's engagement with Edward -had not rather been fulfilled, than that she should thus -be the means of spreading misery farther in the family. -He thus continued -"Mrs. Ferrars has never yet mentioned Edward's name, -which does not surprise us but, to our great astonishment, -not a line has been received from him on the occasion. -Perhaps, however, he is kept silent by his fear of offending, -and I shall, therefore, give him a hint, by a line -to Oxford, that his sister and I both think a letter -of proper submission from him, addressed perhaps to Fanny, -and by her shewn to her mother, might not be taken amiss -for we all know the tenderness of Mrs. Ferrars's heart, -and that she wishes for nothing so much as to be on good terms -with her children." -This paragraph was of some importance to the -prospects and conduct of Edward. It determined him -to attempt a reconciliation, though not exactly -in the manner pointed out by their brother and sister. -"A letter of proper submission" repeated he -"would they have me beg my mother's pardon for Robert's -ingratitude to HER, and breach of honour to ME?I can -make no submissionI am grown neither humble nor -penitent by what has passed.I am grown very happy -but that would not interest.I know of no submission -that IS proper for me to make." -"You may certainly ask to be forgiven," said Elinor, -"because you have offendedand I should think you -might NOW venture so far as to profess some concern -for having ever formed the engagement which drew on you -your mother's anger." -He agreed that he might. -"And when she has forgiven you, perhaps a little humility -may be convenient while acknowledging a second engagement, -almost as imprudent in HER eyes as the first." -He had nothing to urge against it, but still -resisted the idea of a letter of proper submission -and therefore, to make it easier to him, as he declared -a much greater willingness to make mean concessions -by word of mouth than on paper, it was resolved that, -instead of writing to Fanny, he should go to London, -and personally intreat her good offices in his favour. -"And if they really DO interest themselves," said Marianne, -in her new character of candour, "in bringing about -a reconciliation, I shall think that even John and Fanny -are not entirely without merit." -After a visit on Colonel Brandon's side of only three -or four days, the two gentlemen quitted Barton together. -They were to go immediately to Delaford, that Edward -might have some personal knowledge of his future home, -and assist his patron and friend in deciding on what -improvements were needed to it and from thence, -after staying there a couple of nights, he was to proceed -on his journey to town. -CHAPTER -After a proper resistance on the part of Mrs. Ferrars, -just so violent and so steady as to preserve her from that -reproach which she always seemed fearful of incurring, -the reproach of being too amiable, Edward was admitted -to her presence, and pronounced to be again her son. -Her family had of late been exceedingly fluctuating. -For many years of her life she had had two sons -but the crime and annihilation of Edward a few weeks ago, -had robbed her of one the similar annihilation of Robert -had left her for a fortnight without any and now, -by the resuscitation of Edward, she had one again. -In spite of his being allowed once more to live, -however, he did not feel the continuance of his existence -secure, till he had revealed his present engagement -for the publication of that circumstance, he feared, -might give a sudden turn to his constitution, and carry -him off as rapidly as before. With apprehensive caution -therefore it was revealed, and he was listened to with -unexpected calmness. Mrs. Ferrars at first reasonably -endeavoured to dissuade him from marrying Miss Dashwood, -by every argument in her powertold him, that in Miss Morton -he would have a woman of higher rank and larger fortune -and enforced the assertion, by observing that Miss Morton -was the daughter of a nobleman with thirty thousand pounds, -while Miss Dashwood was only the daughter of a private -gentleman with no more than THREE but when she found that, -though perfectly admitting the truth of her representation, -he was by no means inclined to be guided by it, -she judged it wisest, from the experience of the past, -to submitand therefore, after such an ungracious delay -as she owed to her own dignity, and as served to prevent -every suspicion of goodwill, she issued her decree -of consent to the marriage of Edward and Elinor. -What she would engage to do towards augmenting -their income was next to be considered and here it -plainly appeared, that though Edward was now her only son, -he was by no means her eldest for while Robert was -inevitably endowed with a thousand pounds ayear, -not the smallest objection was made against Edward's taking -orders for the sake of two hundred and fifty at the utmost -nor was anything promised either for the present or in future, -beyond the ten thousand pounds, which had been given with Fanny. -It was as much, however, as was desired, -and more than was expected, by Edward and Elinor -and Mrs. Ferrars herself, by her shuffling excuses, -seemed the only person surprised at her not giving more. -With an income quite sufficient to their wants -thus secured to them, they had nothing to wait for -after Edward was in possession of the living, but the -readiness of the house, to which Colonel Brandon, -with an eager desire for the accommodation of Elinor, -was making considerable improvements and after waiting -some time for their completion, after experiencing, -as usual, a thousand disappointments and delays -from the unaccountable dilatoriness of the workmen, Elinor, -as usual, broke through the first positive resolution -of not marrying till every thing was ready, and the -ceremony took place in Barton church early in the autumn. -The first month after their marriage was spent -with their friend at the Mansionhouse from whence -they could superintend the progress of the Parsonage, -and direct every thing as they liked on the spot -could chuse papers, project shrubberies, and invent a sweep. -Mrs. Jennings's prophecies, though rather jumbled together, -were chiefly fulfilled for she was able to visit Edward -and his wife in their Parsonage by Michaelmas, and she -found in Elinor and her husband, as she really believed, -one of the happiest couples in the world. They had -in fact nothing to wish for, but the marriage of Colonel -Brandon and Marianne, and rather better pasturage for -their cows. -They were visited on their first settling by almost -all their relations and friends. Mrs. Ferrars came -to inspect the happiness which she was almost ashamed -of having authorised and even the Dashwoods were at -the expense of a journey from Sussex to do them honour. -"I will not say that I am disappointed, my dear sister," -said John, as they were walking together one morning before -the gates of Delaford House, "THAT would be saying too much, -for certainly you have been one of the most fortunate young -women in the world, as it is. But, I confess, it would -give me great pleasure to call Colonel Brandon brother. -His property here, his place, his house, every thing is in -such respectable and excellent conditionand his woodsI -have not seen such timber any where in Dorsetshire, as there -is now standing in Delaford HangerAnd though, perhaps, -Marianne may not seem exactly the person to attract him -yet I think it would altogether be advisable for you to -have them now frequently staying with you, for as Colonel -Brandon seems a great deal at home, nobody can tell what -may happenfor, when people are much thrown together, -and see little of anybody elseand it will always be -in your power to set her off to advantage, and so forth -in short, you may as well give her a chanceYou understand -me." -But though Mrs. Ferrars DID come to see them, and always -treated them with the makebelieve of decent affection, -they were never insulted by her real favour and preference. -THAT was due to the folly of Robert, and the cunning -of his wife and it was earned by them before many months -had passed away. The selfish sagacity of the latter, -which had at first drawn Robert into the scrape, -was the principal instrument of his deliverance from it -for her respectful humility, assiduous attentions, -and endless flatteries, as soon as the smallest opening -was given for their exercise, reconciled Mrs. Ferrars -to his choice, and reestablished him completely in -her favour. -The whole of Lucy's behaviour in the affair, -and the prosperity which crowned it, therefore, may be held -forth as a most encouraging instance of what an earnest, -an unceasing attention to selfinterest, however its progress -may be apparently obstructed, will do in securing every -advantage of fortune, with no other sacrifice than that of time -and conscience. When Robert first sought her acquaintance, -and privately visited her in Bartlett's Buildings, -it was only with the view imputed to him by his brother. -He merely meant to persuade her to give up the engagement -and as there could be nothing to overcome but the affection -of both, he naturally expected that one or two interviews -would settle the matter. In that point, however, -and that only, he erredfor though Lucy soon gave him -hopes that his eloquence would convince her in TIME, -another visit, another conversation, was always wanted -to produce this conviction. Some doubts always lingered -in her mind when they parted, which could only be -removed by another half hour's discourse with himself. -His attendance was by this means secured, and the rest -followed in course. Instead of talking of Edward, -they came gradually to talk only of Robert,a subject -on which he had always more to say than on any other, -and in which she soon betrayed an interest even equal -to his own and in short, it became speedily evident -to both, that he had entirely supplanted his brother. -He was proud of his conquest, proud of tricking Edward, -and very proud of marrying privately without his -mother's consent. What immediately followed is known. -They passed some months in great happiness at Dawlish -for she had many relations and old acquaintances to -cutand he drew several plans for magnificent cottages -and from thence returning to town, procured the forgiveness -of Mrs. Ferrars, by the simple expedient of asking it, -which, at Lucy's instigation, was adopted. The forgiveness, -at first, indeed, as was reasonable, comprehended only Robert -and Lucy, who had owed his mother no duty and therefore -could have transgressed none, still remained some weeks -longer unpardoned. But perseverance in humility of conduct -and messages, in selfcondemnation for Robert's offence, -and gratitude for the unkindness she was treated with, -procured her in time the haughty notice which overcame -her by its graciousness, and led soon afterwards, by rapid -degrees, to the highest state of affection and influence. -Lucy became as necessary to Mrs. Ferrars, as either Robert -or Fanny and while Edward was never cordially forgiven -for having once intended to marry her, and Elinor, -though superior to her in fortune and birth, was spoken -of as an intruder, SHE was in every thing considered, -and always openly acknowledged, to be a favourite child. -They settled in town, received very liberal assistance -from Mrs. Ferrars, were on the best terms imaginable -with the Dashwoods and setting aside the jealousies -and illwill continually subsisting between Fanny and Lucy, -in which their husbands of course took a part, as well -as the frequent domestic disagreements between Robert and -Lucy themselves, nothing could exceed the harmony in which -they all lived together. -What Edward had done to forfeit the right of eldest -son, might have puzzled many people to find out and what -Robert had done to succeed to it, might have puzzled them -still more. It was an arrangement, however, justified in -its effects, if not in its cause for nothing ever -appeared in Robert's style of living or of talking to give -a suspicion of his regretting the extent of his income, -as either leaving his brother too little, or bringing -himself too muchand if Edward might be judged from -the ready discharge of his duties in every particular, -from an increasing attachment to his wife and his home, -and from the regular cheerfulness of his spirits, -he might be supposed no less contented with his lot, -no less free from every wish of an exchange. -Elinor's marriage divided her as little from her -family as could well be contrived, without rendering -the cottage at Barton entirely useless, for her mother -and sisters spent much more than half their time with her. -Mrs. Dashwood was acting on motives of policy as well -as pleasure in the frequency of her visits at Delaford -for her wish of bringing Marianne and Colonel Brandon together -was hardly less earnest, though rather more liberal than -what John had expressed. It was now her darling object. -Precious as was the company of her daughter to her, -she desired nothing so much as to give up its constant -enjoyment to her valued friend and to see Marianne settled at -the mansionhouse was equally the wish of Edward and Elinor. -They each felt his sorrows, and their own obligations, -and Marianne, by general consent, was to be the reward -of all. -With such a confederacy against herwith a knowledge -so intimate of his goodnesswith a conviction of his fond -attachment to herself, which at last, though long after it -was observable to everybody elseburst on herwhat could she -do? -Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. -She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, -and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims. -She was born to overcome an affection formed so late -in life as at seventeen, and with no sentiment -superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, -voluntarily to give her hand to anotherand THAT other, -a man who had suffered no less than herself under the -event of a former attachment, whom, two years before, -she had considered too old to be married,and who still -sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat -But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice -to an irresistible passion, as once she had fondly -flattered herself with expecting,instead of remaining -even for ever with her mother, and finding her only -pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her -more calm and sober judgment she had determined on, -she found herself at nineteen, submitting to new attachments, -entering on new duties, placed in a new home, a wife, -the mistress of a family, and the patroness of a village. -Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best -loved him, believed he deserved to bein Marianne he -was consoled for every past afflictionher regard and her -society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits -to cheerfulness and that Marianne found her own happiness -in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight -of each observing friend. Marianne could never love -by halves and her whole heart became, in time, as much -devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby. -Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without -a pang and his punishment was soon afterwards complete -in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating -his marriage with a woman of character, as the source -of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had he -behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have -been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, -which thus brought its own punishment, was sincere, -need not be doubtednor that he long thought of Colonel -Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with regret. But that -he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, -or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a -broken heart, must not be depended onfor he did neither. -He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. -His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home -always uncomfortable and in his breed of horses and dogs, -and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable -degree of domestic felicity. -For Marianne, howeverin spite of his incivility -in surviving her losshe always retained that decided -regard which interested him in every thing that befell her, -and made her his secret standard of perfection in woman -and many a rising beauty would be slighted by him in -afterdays as bearing no comparison with Mrs. Brandon. -Mrs. Dashwood was prudent enough to remain at the cottage, -without attempting a removal to Delaford and fortunately for -Sir John and Mrs. Jennings, when Marianne was taken from them, -Margaret had reached an age highly suitable for dancing, -and not very ineligible for being supposed to have a lover. -Between Barton and Delaford, there was that constant -communication which strong family affection would -naturally dictateand among the merits and the happiness -of Elinor and Marianne, let it not be ranked as the least -considerable, that though sisters, and living almost within -sight of each other, they could live without disagreement -between themselves, or producing coolness between their husbands. -THE END -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Sense and Sensibility -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes -by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - in our series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. 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You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. -Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts -eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since -These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers -Title The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes -Author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle -Release Date March, [EBook ] -[Most recently updated November , ] -Edition -Language English -Character set encoding ASCII - START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES -Additional editing by Jose Menendez -THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE -I. A Scandal in Bohemia -II. The Redheaded League -III. A Case of Identity -IV. The Boscombe Valley Mystery -V. The Five Orange Pips -VI. The Man with the Twisted Lip -VII. The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle -VIII. The Adventure of the Speckled Band -IX. The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb -X. The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor -XI. The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet -XII. The Adventure of the Copper Beeches -ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA -I. -To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard -him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses -and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt -any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that -one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but -admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect -reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a -lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never -spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They -were admirable things for the observerexcellent for drawing the -veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner -to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely -adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which -might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a -sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own highpower -lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a -nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and -that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable -memory. -I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us -away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the -homecentred interests which rise up around the man who first -finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to -absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of -society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in -Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from -week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the -drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, -as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his -immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in -following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which -had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time -to time I heard some vague account of his doings of his summons -to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up -of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, -and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so -delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. -Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely -shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of -my former friend and companion. -One nightit was on the twentieth of March, I was -returning from a journey to a patient for I had now returned to -civil practice, when my way led me through Baker Street. As I -passed the wellremembered door, which must always be associated -in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the -Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes -again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. -His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw -his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against -the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head -sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who -knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their -own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his -drugcreated dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new -problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which -had formerly been in part my own. -His manner was not effusive. It seldom was but he was glad, I -think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly -eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, -and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he -stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular -introspective fashion. -"Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have -put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you." -"Seven" I answered. -"Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, -I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not -tell me that you intended to go into harness." -"Then, how do you know?" -"I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting -yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and -careless servant girl?" -"My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly -have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true -that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful -mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you -deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has -given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it -out." -He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands -together. -"It is simplicity itself," said he "my eyes tell me that on the -inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, -the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they -have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round -the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. -Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile -weather, and that you had a particularly malignant bootslitting -specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a -gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black -mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge -on the right side of his tophat to show where he has secreted -his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce -him to be an active member of the medical profession." -I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his -process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I -remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously -simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each -successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you -explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good -as yours." -"Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing -himself down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. -The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen -the steps which lead up from the hall to this room." -"Frequently." -"How often?" -"Well, some hundreds of times." -"Then how many are there?" -"How many? I don't know." -"Quite so You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is -just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, -because I have both seen and observed. Bytheway, since you are -interested in these little problems, and since you are good -enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you -may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick, -pinktinted notepaper which had been lying open upon the table. -"It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud." -The note was undated, and without either signature or address. -"There will call upon you tonight, at a quarter to eight -o'clock," it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a -matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of -the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may -safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which -can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all -quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do -not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask." -"This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that -it means?" -"I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before -one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit -theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. -What do you deduce from it?" -I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was -written. -"The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, -endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper -could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly -strong and stiff." -"Peculiarthat is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an -English paper at all. Hold it up to the light." -I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a -large "G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper. -"What do you make of that?" asked Holmes. -"The name of the maker, no doubt or his monogram, rather." -"Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for -'Gesellschaft,' which is the German for 'Company.' It is a -customary contraction like our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for -'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental -Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves. -"Eglow, Eglonitzhere we are, Egria. It is in a Germanspeaking -countryin Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. 'Remarkable as being -the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous -glassfactories and papermills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what do you -make of that?" His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue -triumphant cloud from his cigarette. -"The paper was made in Bohemia," I said. -"Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you -note the peculiar construction of the sentence'This account of -you we have from all quarters received.' A Frenchman or Russian -could not have written that. It is the German who is so -uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discover -what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper and -prefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, if -I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts." -As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and -grating wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the -bell. Holmes whistled. -"A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing -out of the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of -beauties. A hundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in -this case, Watson, if there is nothing else." -"I think that I had better go, Holmes." -"Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my -Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity -to miss it." -"But your client" -"Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he -comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best -attention." -A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and -in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there -was a loud and authoritative tap. -"Come in" said Holmes. -A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six -inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His -dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked -upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed -across the sleeves and fronts of his doublebreasted coat, while -the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined -with flamecoloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch -which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended -halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with -rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence -which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a -broadbrimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper -part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black -vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, -for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower -part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character, -with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin suggestive -of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy. -"You had my note?" he asked with a deep harsh voice and a -strongly marked German accent. "I told you that I would call." He -looked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to -address. -"Pray take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and -colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me -in my cases. Whom have I the honour to address?" -"You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. -I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour -and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most -extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate -with you alone." -I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me -back into my chair. "It is both, or none," said he. "You may say -before this gentleman anything which you may say to me." -The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," said -he, "by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years at -the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. At -present it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it -may have an influence upon European history." -"I promise," said Holmes. -"And I." -"You will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "The -august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to -you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have -just called myself is not exactly my own." -"I was aware of it," said Holmes dryly. -"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution -has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense -scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of -Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House -of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia." -"I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself -down in his armchair and closing his eyes. -Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, -lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him -as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. -Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his -gigantic client. -"If your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he -remarked, "I should be better able to advise you." -The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in -uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he -tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. "You -are right," he cried "I am the King. Why should I attempt to -conceal it?" -"Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken -before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich -Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of CasselFelstein, and -hereditary King of Bohemia." -"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down -once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you -can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in -my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not -confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I -have come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting -you." -"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. -"The facts are briefly these Some five years ago, during a -lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the wellknown -adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you." -"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes without -opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of -docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it -was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not -at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography -sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a -staffcommander who had written a monograph upon the deepsea -fishes. -"Let me see" said Holmes. "Hum Born in New Jersey in the year -. Contraltohum La Scala, hum Prima donna Imperial Opera -of Warsawyes Retired from operatic stageha Living in -Londonquite so Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled -with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and -is now desirous of getting those letters back." -"Precisely so. But how" -"Was there a secret marriage?" -"None." -"No legal papers or certificates?" -"None." -"Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should -produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is -she to prove their authenticity?" -"There is the writing." -"Pooh, pooh Forgery." -"My private notepaper." -"Stolen." -"My own seal." -"Imitated." -"My photograph." -"Bought." -"We were both in the photograph." -"Oh, dear That is very bad Your Majesty has indeed committed an -indiscretion." -"I was madinsane." -"You have compromised yourself seriously." -"I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now." -"It must be recovered." -"We have tried and failed." -"Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought." -"She will not sell." -"Stolen, then." -"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked -her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice -she has been waylaid. There has been no result." -"No sign of it?" -"Absolutely none." -Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he. -"But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully. -"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the -photograph?" -"To ruin me." -"But how?" -"I am about to be married." -"So I have heard." -"To Clotilde Lothman von SaxeMeningen, second daughter of the -King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her -family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a -doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end." -"And Irene Adler?" -"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I -know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul -of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and -the mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry -another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not -gonone." -"You are sure that she has not sent it yet?" -"I am sure." -"And why?" -"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the -betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday." -"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn. "That -is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to -look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in -London for the present?" -"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the -Count Von Kramm." -"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress." -"Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety." -"Then, as to money?" -"You have carte blanche." -"Absolutely?" -"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom -to have that photograph." -"And for present expenses?" -The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak -and laid it on the table. -"There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in -notes," he said. -Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his notebook and -handed it to him. -"And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked. -"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood." -Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was the -photograph a cabinet?" -"It was." -"Then, goodnight, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon -have some good news for you. And goodnight, Watson," he added, -as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. "If -you will be good enough to call tomorrow afternoon at three -o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you." -II. -At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had -not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the -house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down -beside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, -however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his -inquiry, for, though it was surrounded by none of the grim and -strange features which were associated with the two crimes which -I have already recorded, still, the nature of the case and the -exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. -Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my -friend had on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of -a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a -pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the -quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most -inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable -success that the very possibility of his failing had ceased to -enter into my head. -It was close upon four before the door opened, and a -drunkenlooking groom, illkempt and sidewhiskered, with an -inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room. -Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of -disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it -was indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he -emerged in five minutes tweedsuited and respectable, as of old. -Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in -front of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes. -"Well, really" he cried, and then he choked and laughed again -until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the -chair. -"What is it?" -"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I -employed my morning, or what I ended by doing." -"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the -habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler." -"Quite so but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, -however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this -morning in the character of a groom out of work. There is a -wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of -them, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon found -Briony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but -built out in front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock -to the door. Large sittingroom on the right side, well -furnished, with long windows almost to the floor, and those -preposterous English window fasteners which a child could open. -Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window -could be reached from the top of the coachhouse. I walked round -it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without -noting anything else of interest. -"I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that -there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the -garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, -and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two -fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire -about Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in -the neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but -whose biographies I was compelled to listen to." -"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked. -"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is -the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the -Serpentinemews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, -drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for -dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. -Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, -handsome, and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and -often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See -the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him -home a dozen times from Serpentinemews, and knew all about him. -When I had listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up -and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan -of campaign. -"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the -matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the -relation between them, and what the object of his repeated -visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the -former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his -keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this -question depended whether I should continue my work at Briony -Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the -Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the field of my -inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to -let you see my little difficulties, if you are to understand the -situation." -"I am following you closely," I answered. -"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab -drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a -remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached -evidently the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a -great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the -maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was thoroughly -at home. -"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch -glimpses of him in the windows of the sittingroom, pacing up and -down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see -nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than -before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from -his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he -shouted, 'first to Gross Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to -the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if -you do it in twenty minutes' -"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do -well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau, -the coachman with his coat only halfbuttoned, and his tie under -his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of -the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall -door and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, -but she was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for. -"'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a -sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' -"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing -whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her -landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked -twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could -object. 'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign -if you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twentyfive minutes to -twelve, and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind. -"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the -others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their -steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid -the man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there -save the two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who -seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three -standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side -aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a church. -Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to -me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard as he could towards -me. -"'Thank God,' he cried. 'You'll do. Come Come' -"'What then?' I asked. -"'Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.' -"I was halfdragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was -I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, -and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally -assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to -Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and -there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady -on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was -the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my -life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just -now. It seems that there had been some informality about their -license, that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them -without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance -saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in -search of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean -to wear it on my watchchain in memory of the occasion." -"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I "and what -then?" -"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if -the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate -very prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church -door, however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and -she to her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as -usual,' she said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove -away in different directions, and I went off to make my own -arrangements." -"Which are?" -"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the -bell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to -be busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want -your cooperation." -"I shall be delighted." -"You don't mind breaking the law?" -"Not in the least." -"Nor running a chance of arrest?" -"Not in a good cause." -"Oh, the cause is excellent" -"Then I am your man." -"I was sure that I might rely on you." -"But what is it you wish?" -"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to -you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that -our landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I -have not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must -be on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns -from her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her." -"And what then?" -"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to -occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must -not interfere, come what may. You understand?" -"I am to be neutral?" -"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small -unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being -conveyed into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the -sittingroom window will open. You are to station yourself close -to that open window." -"Yes." -"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you." -"Yes." -"And when I raise my handsoyou will throw into the room what -I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of -fire. You quite follow me?" -"Entirely." -"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long cigar -shaped roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke -rocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it selflighting. -Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, -it will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then -walk to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten -minutes. I hope that I have made myself clear?" -"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, -and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry -of fire, and to wait you at the corner of the street." -"Precisely." -"Then you may entirely rely on me." -"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I -prepare for the new role I have to play." -He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in -the character of an amiable and simpleminded Nonconformist -clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white -tie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and -benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have -equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His -expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every -fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as -science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in -crime. -It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still -wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in -Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just -being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, -waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such -as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes' succinct description, -but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On -the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was -remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men -smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissorsgrinder with his -wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nursegirl, and -several welldressed young men who were lounging up and down with -cigars in their mouths. -"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of -the house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The -photograph becomes a doubleedged weapon now. The chances are -that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey -Norton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his -princess. Now the question is, Where are we to find the -photograph?" -"Where, indeed?" -"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is -cabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's -dress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid -and searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We -may take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her." -"Where, then?" -"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But -I am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, -and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it -over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but -she could not tell what indirect or political influence might be -brought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she -had resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she -can lay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house." -"But it has twice been burgled." -"Pshaw They did not know how to look." -"But how will you look?" -"I will not look." -"What then?" -"I will get her to show me." -"But she will refuse." -"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is -her carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter." -As he spoke the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round -the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which -rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of -the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in -the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another -loafer, who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce -quarrel broke out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who -took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissorsgrinder, -who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and -in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was -the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who -struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes -dashed into the crowd to protect the lady but just as he reached -her he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood -running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to -their heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while -a number of betterdressed people, who had watched the scuffle -without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady and to -attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call her, -had hurried up the steps but she stood at the top with her -superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking -back into the street. -"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked. -"He is dead," cried several voices. -"No, no, there's life in him" shouted another. "But he'll be -gone before you can get him to hospital." -"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the -lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a -gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now." -"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?" -"Surely. Bring him into the sittingroom. There is a comfortable -sofa. This way, please" -Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out -in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings -from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the -blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay -upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with -compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I -know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life -than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was -conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited -upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery -to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted -to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smokerocket from under -my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are -but preventing her from injuring another. -Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man -who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the -window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the -signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire" The -word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of -spectators, well dressed and illgentlemen, ostlers, and -servantmaidsjoined in a general shriek of "Fire" Thick clouds -of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I -caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice -of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm. -Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner -of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my -friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. -He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we -had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the -Edgeware Road. -"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could -have been better. It is all right." -"You have the photograph?" -"I know where it is." -"And how did you find out?" -"She showed me, as I told you she would." -"I am still in the dark." -"I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matter -was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the -street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening." -"I guessed as much." -"Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in -the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand -to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick." -"That also I could fathom." -"Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else -could she do? And into her sittingroom, which was the very room -which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was -determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for -air, they were compelled to open the window, and you had your -chance." -"How did that help you?" -"It was allimportant. When a woman thinks that her house is on -fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she -values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have -more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the -Darlington substitution scandal it was of use to me, and also in -the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby -an unmarried one reaches for her jewelbox. Now it was clear to -me that our lady of today had nothing in the house more precious -to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it. -The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were -enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The -photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the -right bellpull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a -glimpse of it as she halfdrew it out. When I cried out that it -was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed -from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and, making -my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether to -attempt to secure the photograph at once but the coachman had -come in, and as he was watching me narrowly it seemed safer to -wait. A little overprecipitance may ruin all." -"And now?" I asked. -"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King -tomorrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be -shown into the sittingroom to wait for the lady, but it is -probable that when she comes she may find neither us nor the -photograph. It might be a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain -it with his own hands." -"And when will you call?" -"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall -have a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage -may mean a complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to -the King without delay." -We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was -searching his pockets for the key when someone passing said -"Goodnight, Mister Sherlock Holmes." -There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the -greeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had -hurried by. -"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the -dimly lit street. "Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have -been." -III. -I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our -toast and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed -into the room. -"You have really got it" he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by -either shoulder and looking eagerly into his face. -"Not yet." -"But you have hopes?" -"I have hopes." -"Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone." -"We must have a cab." -"No, my brougham is waiting." -"Then that will simplify matters." We descended and started off -once more for Briony Lodge. -"Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes. -"Married When?" -"Yesterday." -"But to whom?" -"To an English lawyer named Norton." -"But she could not love him." -"I am in hopes that she does." -"And why in hopes?" -"Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future -annoyance. If the lady loves her husband, she does not love your -Majesty. If she does not love your Majesty, there is no reason -why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan." -"It is true. And yetWell I wish she had been of my own -station What a queen she would have made" He relapsed into a -moody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in -Serpentine Avenue. -The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood -upon the steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped -from the brougham. -"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?" said she. -"I am Mr. Holmes," answered my companion, looking at her with a -questioning and rather startled gaze. -"Indeed My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She -left this morning with her husband by the train from Charing -Cross for the Continent." -"What" Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and -surprise. "Do you mean that she has left England?" -"Never to return." -"And the papers?" asked the King hoarsely. "All is lost." -"We shall see." He pushed past the servant and rushed into the -drawingroom, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was -scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and -open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before -her flight. Holmes rushed at the bellpull, tore back a small -sliding shutter, and, plunging in his hand, pulled out a -photograph and a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler -herself in evening dress, the letter was superscribed to -"Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for." My friend -tore it open and we all three read it together. It was dated at -midnight of the preceding night and ran in this way -"MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,You really did it very well. You -took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a -suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I -began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had -been told that if the King employed an agent it would certainly -be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, -you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became -suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind -old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress -myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage -of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to -watch you, ran up stairs, got into my walkingclothes, as I call -them, and came down just as you departed. -"Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was -really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock -Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you goodnight, and -started for the Temple to see my husband. -"We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by -so formidable an antagonist so you will find the nest empty when -you call tomorrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in -peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may -do what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly -wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a -weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might -take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to -possess and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, -"Very truly yours, -"IRENE NORTON, ne ADLER." -"What a womanoh, what a woman" cried the King of Bohemia, when -we had all three read this epistle. "Did I not tell you how quick -and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? -Is it not a pity that she was not on my level?" -"From what I have seen of the lady she seems indeed to be on a -very different level to your Majesty," said Holmes coldly. "I am -sorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty's business -to a more successful conclusion." -"On the contrary, my dear sir," cried the King "nothing could be -more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The -photograph is now as safe as if it were in the fire." -"I am glad to hear your Majesty say so." -"I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can -reward you. This ring" He slipped an emerald snake ring from -his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand. -"Your Majesty has something which I should value even more -highly," said Holmes. -"You have but to name it." -"This photograph" -The King stared at him in amazement. -"Irene's photograph" he cried. "Certainly, if you wish it." -"I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the -matter. I have the honour to wish you a very goodmorning." He -bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the -King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his -chambers. -And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom -of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were -beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the -cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And -when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her -photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman. -ADVENTURE II. THE REDHEADED LEAGUE -I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the -autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a -very stout, floridfaced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. -With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when -Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door -behind me. -"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear -Watson," he said cordially. -"I was afraid that you were engaged." -"So I am. Very much so." -"Then I can wait in the next room." -"Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and -helper in many of my most successful cases, and I have no -doubt that he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also." -The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of -greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small -fatencircled eyes. -"Try the settee," said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and -putting his fingertips together, as was his custom when in -judicial moods. "I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love -of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum -routine of everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by -the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you -will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own -little adventures." -"Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me," I -observed. -"You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we -went into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary -Sutherland, that for strange effects and extraordinary -combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more -daring than any effort of the imagination." -"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting." -"You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my -view, for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you -until your reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to -be right. Now, Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call -upon me this morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to -be one of the most singular which I have listened to for some -time. You have heard me remark that the strangest and most unique -things are very often connected not with the larger but with the -smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where there is room for -doubt whether any positive crime has been committed. As far as I -have heard it is impossible for me to say whether the present -case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is -certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. -Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to -recommence your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend -Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part but also because the -peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to have every -possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have heard some -slight indication of the course of events, I am able to guide -myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to my -memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the -facts are, to the best of my belief, unique." -The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some -little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the -inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the -advertisement column, with his head thrust forward and the paper -flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and -endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the -indications which might be presented by his dress or appearance. -I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor -bore every mark of being an average commonplace British -tradesman, obese, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey -shepherd's check trousers, a not overclean black frockcoat, -unbuttoned in the front, and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy -Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of metal dangling down as -an ornament. A frayed tophat and a faded brown overcoat with a -wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him. Altogether, -look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man save -his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin and -discontent upon his features. -Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook -his head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. -"Beyond the obvious facts that he has at some time done manual -labour, that he takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has -been in China, and that he has done a considerable amount of -writing lately, I can deduce nothing else." -Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger -upon the paper, but his eyes upon my companion. -"How, in the name of goodfortune, did you know all that, Mr. -Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I did -manual labour. It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship's -carpenter." -"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger -than your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more -developed." -"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?" -"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, -especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you -use an arcandcompass breastpin." -"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?" -"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for -five inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the -elbow where you rest it upon the desk?" -"Well, but China?" -"The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right -wrist could only have been done in China. I have made a small -study of tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature -of the subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a -delicate pink is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I -see a Chinese coin hanging from your watchchain, the matter -becomes even more simple." -Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never" said he. "I -thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see -that there was nothing in it, after all." -"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake -in explaining. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico,' you know, and my -poor little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I -am so candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?" -"Yes, I have got it now," he answered with his thick red finger -planted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what began -it all. You just read it for yourself, sir." -I took the paper from him and read as follows -"TO THE REDHEADED LEAGUE On account of the bequest of the late -Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U. S. A., there is now -another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a -salary of pounds a week for purely nominal services. All -redheaded men who are sound in body and mind and above the age -of twentyone years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at -eleven o'clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, -Pope's Court, Fleet Street." -"What on earth does this mean?" I ejaculated after I had twice -read over the extraordinary announcement. -Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when -in high spirits. "It is a little off the beaten track, isn't it?" -said he. "And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us -all about yourself, your household, and the effect which this -advertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, -Doctor, of the paper and the date." -"It is The Morning Chronicle of April , . Just two months -ago." -"Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?" -"Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock -Holmes," said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead "I have a small -pawnbroker's business at Coburg Square, near the City. It's not a -very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than -just give me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, -but now I only keep one and I would have a job to pay him but -that he is willing to come for half wages so as to learn the -business." -"What is the name of this obliging youth?" asked Sherlock Holmes. -"His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he's not such a youth, -either. It's hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter -assistant, Mr. Holmes and I know very well that he could better -himself and earn twice what I am able to give him. But, after -all, if he is satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?" -"Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employ who -comes under the full market price. It is not a common experience -among employers in this age. I don't know that your assistant is -not as remarkable as your advertisement." -"Oh, he has his faults, too," said Mr. Wilson. "Never was such a -fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought -to be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar -like a rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his -main fault, but on the whole he's a good worker. There's no vice -in him." -"He is still with you, I presume?" -"Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple -cooking and keeps the place cleanthat's all I have in the -house, for I am a widower and never had any family. We live very -quietly, sir, the three of us and we keep a roof over our heads -and pay our debts, if we do nothing more. -"The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. -Spaulding, he came down into the office just this day eight -weeks, with this very paper in his hand, and he says -"'I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a redheaded man.' -"'Why that?' I asks. -"'Why,' says he, 'here's another vacancy on the League of the -Redheaded Men. It's worth quite a little fortune to any man who -gets it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than -there are men, so that the trustees are at their wits' end what -to do with the money. If my hair would only change colour, here's -a nice little crib all ready for me to step into.' -"'Why, what is it, then?' I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a -very stayathome man, and as my business came to me instead of -my having to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting -my foot over the doormat. In that way I didn't know much of what -was going on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news. -"'Have you never heard of the League of the Redheaded Men?' he -asked with his eyes open. -"'Never.' -"'Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one -of the vacancies.' -"'And what are they worth?' I asked. -"'Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, -and it need not interfere very much with one's other -occupations.' -"Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, -for the business has not been overgood for some years, and an -extra couple of hundred would have been very handy. -"'Tell me all about it,' said I. -"'Well,' said he, showing me the advertisement, 'you can see for -yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address -where you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, -the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah -Hopkins, who was very peculiar in his ways. He was himself -redheaded, and he had a great sympathy for all redheaded men -so when he died it was found that he had left his enormous -fortune in the hands of trustees, with instructions to apply the -interest to the providing of easy berths to men whose hair is of -that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay and very little to -do.' -"'But,' said I, 'there would be millions of redheaded men who -would apply.' -"'Not so many as you might think,' he answered. 'You see it is -really confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had -started from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the -old town a good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is no use your -applying if your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything but -real bright, blazing, fiery red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. -Wilson, you would just walk in but perhaps it would hardly be -worth your while to put yourself out of the way for the sake of a -few hundred pounds.' -"Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, -that my hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed -to me that if there was to be any competition in the matter I -stood as good a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent -Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might -prove useful, so I just ordered him to put up the shutters for -the day and to come right away with me. He was very willing to -have a holiday, so we shut the business up and started off for -the address that was given us in the advertisement. -"I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From -north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in -his hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. -Fleet Street was choked with redheaded folk, and Pope's Court -looked like a coster's orange barrow. I should not have thought -there were so many in the whole country as were brought together -by that single advertisement. Every shade of colour they -werestraw, lemon, orange, brick, Irishsetter, liver, clay -but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real -vivid flamecoloured tint. When I saw how many were waiting, I -would have given it up in despair but Spaulding would not hear -of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed and -pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up -to the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream -upon the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back -dejected but we wedged in as well as we could and soon found -ourselves in the office." -"Your experience has been a most entertaining one," remarked -Holmes as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge -pinch of snuff. "Pray continue your very interesting statement." -"There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs -and a deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that -was even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate -as he came up, and then he always managed to find some fault in -them which would disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem -to be such a very easy matter, after all. However, when our turn -came the little man was much more favourable to me than to any of -the others, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he -might have a private word with us. -"'This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,' said my assistant, 'and he is -willing to fill a vacancy in the League.' -"'And he is admirably suited for it,' the other answered. 'He has -every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so -fine.' He took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and -gazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he -plunged forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my -success. -"'It would be injustice to hesitate,' said he. 'You will, -however, I am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.' -With that he seized my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I -yelled with the pain. 'There is water in your eyes,' said he as -he released me. 'I perceive that all is as it should be. But we -have to be careful, for we have twice been deceived by wigs and -once by paint. I could tell you tales of cobbler's wax which -would disgust you with human nature.' He stepped over to the -window and shouted through it at the top of his voice that the -vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below, -and the folk all trooped away in different directions until there -was not a redhead to be seen except my own and that of the -manager. -"'My name,' said he, 'is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of -the pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are -you a married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?' -"I answered that I had not. -"His face fell immediately. -"'Dear me' he said gravely, 'that is very serious indeed I am -sorry to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the -propagation and spread of the redheads as well as for their -maintenance. It is exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a -bachelor.' -"My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was -not to have the vacancy after all but after thinking it over for -a few minutes he said that it would be all right. -"'In the case of another,' said he, 'the objection might be -fatal, but we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a -head of hair as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your -new duties?' -"'Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,' -said I. -"'Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson' said Vincent Spaulding. -'I should be able to look after that for you.' -"'What would be the hours?' I asked. -"'Ten to two.' -"Now a pawnbroker's business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. -Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just -before payday so it would suit me very well to earn a little in -the mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, -and that he would see to anything that turned up. -"'That would suit me very well,' said I. 'And the pay?' -"'Is pounds a week.' -"'And the work?' -"'Is purely nominal.' -"'What do you call purely nominal?' -"'Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the -building, the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole -position forever. The will is very clear upon that point. You -don't comply with the conditions if you budge from the office -during that time.' -"'It's only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,' -said I. -"'No excuse will avail,' said Mr. Duncan Ross 'neither sickness -nor business nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose -your billet.' -"'And the work?' -"'Is to copy out the "Encyclopaedia Britannica." There is the first -volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, and -blottingpaper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be -ready tomorrow?' -"'Certainly,' I answered. -"'Then, goodbye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you -once more on the important position which you have been fortunate -enough to gain.' He bowed me out of the room and I went home with -my assistant, hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased -at my own good fortune. -"Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in -low spirits again for I had quite persuaded myself that the -whole affair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its -object might be I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past -belief that anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay -such a sum for doing anything so simple as copying out the -'Encyclopaedia Britannica.' Vincent Spaulding did what he could to -cheer me up, but by bedtime I had reasoned myself out of the -whole thing. However, in the morning I determined to have a look -at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottle of ink, and with a -quillpen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I started off for -Pope's Court. -"Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as -possible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross -was there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off -upon the letter A, and then he left me but he would drop in from -time to time to see that all was right with me. At two o'clock he -bade me goodday, complimented me upon the amount that I had -written, and locked the door of the office after me. -"This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the -manager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my -week's work. It was the same next week, and the same the week -after. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon I -left at two. By degrees Mr. Duncan Ross took to coming in only -once of a morning, and then, after a time, he did not come in at -all. Still, of course, I never dared to leave the room for an -instant, for I was not sure when he might come, and the billet -was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I would not risk -the loss of it. -"Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about -Abbots and Archery and Armour and Architecture and Attica, and -hoped with diligence that I might get on to the B's before very -long. It cost me something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly -filled a shelf with my writings. And then suddenly the whole -business came to an end." -"To an end?" -"Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as -usual at ten o'clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a -little square of cardboard hammered on to the middle of the -panel with a tack. Here it is, and you can read for yourself." -He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet -of notepaper. It read in this fashion -THE REDHEADED LEAGUE -IS -DISSOLVED. -October , . -Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the -rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so -completely overtopped every other consideration that we both -burst out into a roar of laughter. -"I cannot see that there is anything very funny," cried our -client, flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. "If you can -do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere." -"No, no," cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from -which he had half risen. "I really wouldn't miss your case for -the world. It is most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you -will excuse my saying so, something just a little funny about it. -Pray what steps did you take when you found the card upon the -door?" -"I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called -at the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything -about it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant -living on the groundfloor, and I asked him if he could tell me -what had become of the Redheaded League. He said that he had -never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan -Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him. -"'Well,' said I, 'the gentleman at No. .' -"'What, the redheaded man?' -"'Yes.' -"'Oh,' said he, 'his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor -and was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new -premises were ready. He moved out yesterday.' -"'Where could I find him?' -"'Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, -King Edward Street, near St. Paul's.' -"I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was -a manufactory of artificial kneecaps, and no one in it had ever -heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross." -"And what did you do then?" asked Holmes. -"I went home to SaxeCoburg Square, and I took the advice of my -assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say -that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite -good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place -without a struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough -to give advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right -away to you." -"And you did very wisely," said Holmes. "Your case is an -exceedingly remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. -From what you have told me I think that it is possible that -graver issues hang from it than might at first sight appear." -"Grave enough" said Mr. Jabez Wilson. "Why, I have lost four -pound a week." -"As far as you are personally concerned," remarked Holmes, "I do -not see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary -league. On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some - pounds, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have -gained on every subject which comes under the letter A. You have -lost nothing by them." -"No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, -and what their object was in playing this prankif it was a -prankupon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it -cost them two and thirty pounds." -"We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, -one or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who -first called your attention to the advertisementhow long had he -been with you?" -"About a month then." -"How did he come?" -"In answer to an advertisement." -"Was he the only applicant?" -"No, I had a dozen." -"Why did you pick him?" -"Because he was handy and would come cheap." -"At halfwages, in fact." -"Yes." -"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?" -"Small, stoutbuilt, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, -though he's not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon -his forehead." -Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. "I thought -as much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears are -pierced for earrings?" -"Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he -was a lad." -"Hum" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still -with you?" -"Oh, yes, sir I have only just left him." -"And has your business been attended to in your absence?" -"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of a -morning." -"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an -opinion upon the subject in the course of a day or two. Today is -Saturday, and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion." -"Well, Watson," said Holmes when our visitor had left us, "what -do you make of it all?" -"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a most -mysterious business." -"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less -mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless -crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is -the most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this -matter." -"What are you going to do, then?" I asked. -"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I -beg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curled -himself up in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his -hawklike nose, and there he sat with his eyes closed and his -black clay pipe thrusting out like the bill of some strange bird. -I had come to the conclusion that he had dropped asleep, and -indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenly sprang out of his -chair with the gesture of a man who has made up his mind and put -his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. -"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he -remarked. "What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare -you for a few hours?" -"I have nothing to do today. My practice is never very -absorbing." -"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City -first, and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that -there is a good deal of German music on the programme, which is -rather more to my taste than Italian or French. It is -introspective, and I want to introspect. Come along" -We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate and a short -walk took us to SaxeCoburg Square, the scene of the singular -story which we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, -little, shabbygenteel place, where four lines of dingy -twostoried brick houses looked out into a small railedin -enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few clumps of faded -laurelbushes made a hard fight against a smokeladen and -uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with -"JABEZ WILSON" in white letters, upon a corner house, announced -the place where our redheaded client carried on his business. -Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side -and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between -puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down -again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally -he returned to the pawnbroker's, and, having thumped vigorously -upon the pavement with his stick two or three times, he went up -to the door and knocked. It was instantly opened by a -brightlooking, cleanshaven young fellow, who asked him to step -in. -"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you would -go from here to the Strand." -"Third right, fourth left," answered the assistant promptly, -closing the door. -"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, -in my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring -I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known -something of him before." -"Evidently," said I, "Mr. Wilson's assistant counts for a good -deal in this mystery of the Redheaded League. I am sure that you -inquired your way merely in order that you might see him." -"Not him." -"What then?" -"The knees of his trousers." -"And what did you see?" -"What I expected to see." -"Why did you beat the pavement?" -"My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We -are spies in an enemy's country. We know something of SaxeCoburg -Square. Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it." -The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the -corner from the retired SaxeCoburg Square presented as great a -contrast to it as the front of a picture does to the back. It was -one of the main arteries which conveyed the traffic of the City -to the north and west. The roadway was blocked with the immense -stream of commerce flowing in a double tide inward and outward, -while the footpaths were black with the hurrying swarm of -pedestrians. It was difficult to realise as we looked at the line -of fine shops and stately business premises that they really -abutted on the other side upon the faded and stagnant square -which we had just quitted. -"Let me see," said Holmes, standing at the corner and glancing -along the line, "I should like just to remember the order of the -houses here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of -London. There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little -newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, -the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriagebuilding -depot. That carries us right on to the other block. And now, -Doctor, we've done our work, so it's time we had some play. A -sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violinland, where -all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, and there are no -redheaded clients to vex us with their conundrums." -My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a -very capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All -the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect -happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the -music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes -were as unlike those of Holmes the sleuthhound, Holmes the -relentless, keenwitted, readyhanded criminal agent, as it was -possible to conceive. In his singular character the dual nature -alternately asserted itself, and his extreme exactness and -astuteness represented, as I have often thought, the reaction -against the poetic and contemplative mood which occasionally -predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him from -extreme languor to devouring energy and, as I knew well, he was -never so truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been -lounging in his armchair amid his improvisations and his -blackletter editions. Then it was that the lust of the chase -would suddenly come upon him, and that his brilliant reasoning -power would rise to the level of intuition, until those who were -unacquainted with his methods would look askance at him as on a -man whose knowledge was not that of other mortals. When I saw him -that afternoon so enwrapped in the music at St. James's Hall I -felt that an evil time might be coming upon those whom he had set -himself to hunt down. -"You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor," he remarked as we -emerged. -"Yes, it would be as well." -"And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This -business at Coburg Square is serious." -"Why serious?" -"A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to -believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But today being -Saturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help -tonight." -"At what time?" -"Ten will be early enough." -"I shall be at Baker Street at ten." -"Very well. And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, -so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket." He waved his -hand, turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the -crowd. -I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbours, but I was -always oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings -with Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had -seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that -he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to -happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and -grotesque. As I drove home to my house in Kensington I thought -over it all, from the extraordinary story of the redheaded -copier of the "Encyclopaedia" down to the visit to SaxeCoburg -Square, and the ominous words with which he had parted from me. -What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? -Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from -Holmes that this smoothfaced pawnbroker's assistant was a -formidable mana man who might play a deep game. I tried to -puzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and set the matter aside -until night should bring an explanation. -It was a quarterpast nine when I started from home and made my -way across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker -Street. Two hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered -the passage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering -his room I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, -one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, the official police -agent, while the other was a long, thin, sadfaced man, with a -very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frockcoat. -"Ha Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his -peajacket and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. -"Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me -introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in -tonight's adventure." -"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in -his consequential way. "Our friend here is a wonderful man for -starting a chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do -the running down." -"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," -observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily. -"You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir," said -the police agent loftily. "He has his own little methods, which -are, if he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical -and fantastic, but he has the makings of a detective in him. It -is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of -the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly -correct than the official force." -"Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right," said the -stranger with deference. "Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. -It is the first Saturday night for sevenandtwenty years that I -have not had my rubber." -"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, "that you will -play for a higher stake tonight than you have ever done yet, and -that the play will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, -the stake will be some , pounds and for you, Jones, it will -be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands." -"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a -young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his -profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on -any criminal in London. He's a remarkable man, is young John -Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he himself has been -to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as his fingers, and -though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to -find the man himself. He'll crack a crib in Scotland one week, -and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. -I've been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him -yet." -"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you tonight. -I've had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I -agree with you that he is at the head of his profession. It is -past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two -will take the first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the -second." -Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive -and lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in -the afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gaslit -streets until we emerged into Farrington Street. -"We are close there now," my friend remarked. "This fellow -Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the -matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is -not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. -He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as -tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we -are, and they are waiting for us." -We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had -found ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, -following the guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a -narrow passage and through a side door, which he opened for us. -Within there was a small corridor, which ended in a very massive -iron gate. This also was opened, and led down a flight of winding -stone steps, which terminated at another formidable gate. Mr. -Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, and then conducted us -down a dark, earthsmelling passage, and so, after opening a -third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all -round with crates and massive boxes. -"You are not very vulnerable from above," Holmes remarked as he -held up the lantern and gazed about him. -"Nor from below," said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon -the flags which lined the floor. "Why, dear me, it sounds quite -hollow" he remarked, looking up in surprise. -"I must really ask you to be a little more quiet" said Holmes -severely. "You have already imperilled the whole success of our -expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit -down upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?" -The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a -very injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his -knees upon the floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, -began to examine minutely the cracks between the stones. A few -seconds sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again -and put his glass in his pocket. -"We have at least an hour before us," he remarked, "for they can -hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. -Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their -work the longer time they will have for their escape. We are at -present, Doctoras no doubt you have divinedin the cellar of -the City branch of one of the principal London banks. Mr. -Merryweather is the chairman of directors, and he will explain to -you that there are reasons why the more daring criminals of -London should take a considerable interest in this cellar at -present." -"It is our French gold," whispered the director. "We have had -several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it." -"Your French gold?" -"Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources -and borrowed for that purpose , napoleons from the Bank of -France. It has become known that we have never had occasion to -unpack the money, and that it is still lying in our cellar. The -crate upon which I sit contains , napoleons packed between -layers of lead foil. Our reserve of bullion is much larger at -present than is usually kept in a single branch office, and the -directors have had misgivings upon the subject." -"Which were very well justified," observed Holmes. "And now it is -time that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an -hour matters will come to a head. In the meantime Mr. -Merryweather, we must put the screen over that dark lantern." -"And sit in the dark?" -"I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and -I thought that, as we were a partie carre, you might have your -rubber after all. But I see that the enemy's preparations have -gone so far that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, -first of all, we must choose our positions. These are daring men, -and though we shall take them at a disadvantage, they may do us -some harm unless we are careful. I shall stand behind this crate, -and do you conceal yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a -light upon them, close in swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no -compunction about shooting them down." -I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case -behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front -of his lantern and left us in pitch darknesssuch an absolute -darkness as I have never before experienced. The smell of hot -metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready -to flash out at a moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked -up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and -subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold dank air of the -vault. -"They have but one retreat," whispered Holmes. "That is back -through the house into SaxeCoburg Square. I hope that you have -done what I asked you, Jones?" -"I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door." -"Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent -and wait." -What a time it seemed From comparing notes afterwards it was but -an hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must -have almost gone and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs -were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position yet my -nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my -hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle -breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, -heavier inbreath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note -of the bank director. From my position I could look over the case -in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint -of a light. -At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then -it lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, -without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand -appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about in the -centre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the -hand, with its writhing fingers, protruded out of the floor. Then -it was withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark -again save the single lurid spark which marked a chink between -the stones. -Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, -tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon -its side and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed -the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a cleancut, -boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand -on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulderhigh and -waisthigh, until one knee rested upon the edge. In another -instant he stood at the side of the hole and was hauling after -him a companion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face -and a shock of very red hair. -"It's all clear," he whispered. "Have you the chisel and the -bags? Great Scott Jump, Archie, jump, and I'll swing for it" -Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the -collar. The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of -rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed -upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes' hunting crop came -down on the man's wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone -floor. -"It's no use, John Clay," said Holmes blandly. "You have no -chance at all." -"So I see," the other answered with the utmost coolness. "I fancy -that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his -coattails." -"There are three men waiting for him at the door," said Holmes. -"Oh, indeed You seem to have done the thing very completely. I -must compliment you." -"And I you," Holmes answered. "Your redheaded idea was very new -and effective." -"You'll see your pal again presently," said Jones. "He's quicker -at climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the -derbies." -"I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands," -remarked our prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. -"You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have -the goodness, also, when you address me always to say 'sir' and -'please.'" -"All right," said Jones with a stare and a snigger. "Well, would -you please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry -your Highness to the policestation?" -"That is better," said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow -to the three of us and walked quietly off in the custody of the -detective. -"Really, Mr. Holmes," said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them -from the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or -repay you. There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated -in the most complete manner one of the most determined attempts -at bank robbery that have ever come within my experience." -"I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. -John Clay," said Holmes. "I have been at some small expense over -this matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond -that I am amply repaid by having had an experience which is in -many ways unique, and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of -the Redheaded League." -"You see, Watson," he explained in the early hours of the morning -as we sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, "it -was perfectly obvious from the first that the only possible -object of this rather fantastic business of the advertisement of -the League, and the copying of the 'Encyclopaedia,' must be to get -this not overbright pawnbroker out of the way for a number of -hours every day. It was a curious way of managing it, but, -really, it would be difficult to suggest a better. The method was -no doubt suggested to Clay's ingenious mind by the colour of his -accomplice's hair. The pounds a week was a lure which must draw -him, and what was it to them, who were playing for thousands? -They put in the advertisement, one rogue has the temporary -office, the other rogue incites the man to apply for it, and -together they manage to secure his absence every morning in the -week. From the time that I heard of the assistant having come for -half wages, it was obvious to me that he had some strong motive -for securing the situation." -"But how could you guess what the motive was?" -"Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a -mere vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The -man's business was a small one, and there was nothing in his -house which could account for such elaborate preparations, and -such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something -out of the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant's -fondness for photography, and his trick of vanishing into the -cellar. The cellar There was the end of this tangled clue. Then -I made inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I -had to deal with one of the coolest and most daring criminals in -London. He was doing something in the cellarsomething which -took many hours a day for months on end. What could it be, once -more? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunnel -to some other building. -"So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I -surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was -ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. -It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the -assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had -never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his -face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have -remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of -those hours of burrowing. The only remaining point was what they -were burrowing for. I walked round the corner, saw the City and -Suburban Bank abutted on our friend's premises, and felt that I -had solved my problem. When you drove home after the concert I -called upon Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bank -directors, with the result that you have seen." -"And how could you tell that they would make their attempt -tonight?" I asked. -"Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that -they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presencein other -words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential -that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the -bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than -any other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. -For all these reasons I expected them to come tonight." -"You reasoned it out beautifully," I exclaimed in unfeigned -admiration. "It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings -true." -"It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas I already -feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort -to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little -problems help me to do so." -"And you are a benefactor of the race," said I. -He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps, after all, it is of -some little use," he remarked. "'L'homme c'est rienl'oeuvre -c'est tout,' as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand." -ADVENTURE III. A CASE OF IDENTITY -"My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side -of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, "life is infinitely -stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We -would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere -commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window -hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the -roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the -strange coincidences, the plannings, the crosspurposes, the -wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and -leading to the most outr results, it would make all fiction with -its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and -unprofitable." -"And yet I am not convinced of it," I answered. "The cases which -come to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and -vulgar enough. We have in our police reports realism pushed to -its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, -neither fascinating nor artistic." -"A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a -realistic effect," remarked Holmes. "This is wanting in the -police report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the -platitudes of the magistrate than upon the details, which to an -observer contain the vital essence of the whole matter. Depend -upon it, there is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace." -I smiled and shook my head. "I can quite understand your thinking -so." I said. "Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser -and helper to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout -three continents, you are brought in contact with all that is -strange and bizarre. But here"I picked up the morning paper -from the ground"let us put it to a practical test. Here is the -first heading upon which I come. 'A husband's cruelty to his -wife.' There is half a column of print, but I know without -reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of -course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the -bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of -writers could invent nothing more crude." -"Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument," -said Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. "This -is the Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged -in clearing up some small points in connection with it. The -husband was a teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the -conduct complained of was that he had drifted into the habit of -winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling -them at his wife, which, you will allow, is not an action likely -to occur to the imagination of the average storyteller. Take a -pinch of snuff, Doctor, and acknowledge that I have scored over -you in your example." -He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in -the centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his -homely ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon -it. -"Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. -It is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my -assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers." -"And the ring?" I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which -sparkled upon his finger. -"It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in -which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it -even to you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of -my little problems." -"And have you any on hand just now?" I asked with interest. -"Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of -interest. They are important, you understand, without being -interesting. Indeed, I have found that it is usually in -unimportant matters that there is a field for the observation, -and for the quick analysis of cause and effect which gives the -charm to an investigation. The larger crimes are apt to be the -simpler, for the bigger the crime the more obvious, as a rule, is -the motive. In these cases, save for one rather intricate matter -which has been referred to me from Marseilles, there is nothing -which presents any features of interest. It is possible, however, -that I may have something better before very many minutes are -over, for this is one of my clients, or I am much mistaken." -He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted -blinds gazing down into the dull neutraltinted London street. -Looking over his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite -there stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, -and a large curling red feather in a broadbrimmed hat which was -tilted in a coquettish Duchess of Devonshire fashion over her -ear. From under this great panoply she peeped up in a nervous, -hesitating fashion at our windows, while her body oscillated -backward and forward, and her fingers fidgeted with her glove -buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves -the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp -clang of the bell. -"I have seen those symptoms before," said Holmes, throwing his -cigarette into the fire. "Oscillation upon the pavement always -means an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure -that the matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet -even here we may discriminate. When a woman has been seriously -wronged by a man she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom -is a broken bell wire. Here we may take it that there is a love -matter, but that the maiden is not so much angry as perplexed, or -grieved. But here she comes in person to resolve our doubts." -As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons -entered to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself -loomed behind his small black figure like a fullsailed -merchantman behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed -her with the easy courtesy for which he was remarkable, and, -having closed the door and bowed her into an armchair, he looked -her over in the minute and yet abstracted fashion which was -peculiar to him. -"Do you not find," he said, "that with your short sight it is a -little trying to do so much typewriting?" -"I did at first," she answered, "but now I know where the letters -are without looking." Then, suddenly realising the full purport -of his words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear -and astonishment upon her broad, goodhumoured face. "You've -heard about me, Mr. Holmes," she cried, "else how could you know -all that?" -"Never mind," said Holmes, laughing "it is my business to know -things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others -overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?" -"I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, -whose husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had -given him up for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as -much for me. I'm not rich, but still I have a hundred a year in -my own right, besides the little that I make by the machine, and -I would give it all to know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel." -"Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?" asked -Sherlock Holmes, with his fingertips together and his eyes to -the ceiling. -Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss -Mary Sutherland. "Yes, I did bang out of the house," she said, -"for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. -Windibankthat is, my fathertook it all. He would not go to -the police, and he would not go to you, and so at last, as he -would do nothing and kept on saying that there was no harm done, -it made me mad, and I just on with my things and came right away -to you." -"Your father," said Holmes, "your stepfather, surely, since the -name is different." -"Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, -too, for he is only five years and two months older than myself." -"And your mother is alive?" -"Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn't best pleased, Mr. -Holmes, when she married again so soon after father's death, and -a man who was nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father -was a plumber in the Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy -business behind him, which mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the -foreman but when Mr. Windibank came he made her sell the -business, for he was very superior, being a traveller in wines. -They got pounds for the goodwill and interest, which wasn't -near as much as father could have got if he had been alive." -I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this -rambling and inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he -had listened with the greatest concentration of attention. -"Your own little income," he asked, "does it come out of the -business?" -"Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle -Ned in Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying / per -cent. Two thousand five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can -only touch the interest." -"You interest me extremely," said Holmes. "And since you draw so -large a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the -bargain, you no doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in -every way. I believe that a single lady can get on very nicely -upon an income of about pounds." -"I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you -understand that as long as I live at home I don't wish to be a -burden to them, and so they have the use of the money just while -I am staying with them. Of course, that is only just for the -time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest every quarter and pays it -over to mother, and I find that I can do pretty well with what I -earn at typewriting. It brings me twopence a sheet, and I can -often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a day." -"You have made your position very clear to me," said Holmes. -"This is my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as -freely as before myself. Kindly tell us now all about your -connection with Mr. Hosmer Angel." -A flush stole over Miss Sutherland's face, and she picked -nervously at the fringe of her jacket. "I met him first at the -gasfitters' ball," she said. "They used to send father tickets -when he was alive, and then afterwards they remembered us, and -sent them to mother. Mr. Windibank did not wish us to go. He -never did wish us to go anywhere. He would get quite mad if I -wanted so much as to join a Sundayschool treat. But this time I -was set on going, and I would go for what right had he to -prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to know, when all -father's friends were to be there. And he said that I had nothing -fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never so much -as taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would do, -he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went, -mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it -was there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel." -"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr. Windibank came back from -France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball." -"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and -shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying -anything to a woman, for she would have her way." -"I see. Then at the gasfitters' ball you met, as I understand, a -gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel." -"Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if -we had got home all safe, and after that we met himthat is to -say, Mr. Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father -came back again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house -any more." -"No?" -"Well, you know father didn't like anything of the sort. He -wouldn't have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to -say that a woman should be happy in her own family circle. But -then, as I used to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to -begin with, and I had not got mine yet." -"But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see -you?" -"Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer -wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each -other until he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he -used to write every day. I took the letters in in the morning, so -there was no need for father to know." -"Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?" -"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that -we took. HosmerMr. Angelwas a cashier in an office in -Leadenhall Streetand" -"What office?" -"That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't know." -"Where did he live, then?" -"He slept on the premises." -"And you don't know his address?" -"Noexcept that it was Leadenhall Street." -"Where did you address your letters, then?" -"To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called -for. He said that if they were sent to the office he would be -chaffed by all the other clerks about having letters from a lady, -so I offered to typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't -have that, for he said that when I wrote them they seemed to come -from me, but when they were typewritten he always felt that the -machine had come between us. That will just show you how fond he -was of me, Mr. Holmes, and the little things that he would think -of." -"It was most suggestive," said Holmes. "It has long been an axiom -of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. -Can you remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?" -"He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me -in the evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to -be conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his -voice was gentle. He'd had the quinsy and swollen glands when he -was young, he told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, -and a hesitating, whispering fashion of speech. He was always -well dressed, very neat and plain, but his eyes were weak, just -as mine are, and he wore tinted glasses against the glare." -"Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather, -returned to France?" -"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we -should marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest -and made me swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever -happened I would always be true to him. Mother said he was quite -right to make me swear, and that it was a sign of his passion. -Mother was all in his favour from the first and was even fonder -of him than I was. Then, when they talked of marrying within the -week, I began to ask about father but they both said never to -mind about father, but just to tell him afterwards, and mother -said she would make it all right with him. I didn't quite like -that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I should ask his leave, as -he was only a few years older than me but I didn't want to do -anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at Bordeaux, where the -company has its French offices, but the letter came back to me on -the very morning of the wedding." -"It missed him, then?" -"Yes, sir for he had started to England just before it arrived." -"Ha that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for -the Friday. Was it to be in church?" -"Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour's, near -King's Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St. -Pancras Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were -two of us he put us both into it and stepped himself into a -fourwheeler, which happened to be the only other cab in the -street. We got to the church first, and when the fourwheeler -drove up we waited for him to step out, but he never did, and -when the cabman got down from the box and looked there was no one -there The cabman said that he could not imagine what had become -of him, for he had seen him get in with his own eyes. That was -last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or heard anything -since then to throw any light upon what became of him." -"It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated," said -Holmes. -"Oh, no, sir He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all -the morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to -be true and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to -separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, -and that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed -strange talk for a weddingmorning, but what has happened since -gives a meaning to it." -"Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some -unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?" -"Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he -would not have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw -happened." -"But you have no notion as to what it could have been?" -"None." -"One more question. How did your mother take the matter?" -"She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter -again." -"And your father? Did you tell him?" -"Yes and he seemed to think, with me, that something had -happened, and that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, -what interest could anyone have in bringing me to the doors of -the church, and then leaving me? Now, if he had borrowed my -money, or if he had married me and got my money settled on him, -there might be some reason, but Hosmer was very independent about -money and never would look at a shilling of mine. And yet, what -could have happened? And why could he not write? Oh, it drives me -halfmad to think of it, and I can't sleep a wink at night." She -pulled a little handkerchief out of her muff and began to sob -heavily into it. -"I shall glance into the case for you," said Holmes, rising, "and -I have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the -weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind -dwell upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel -vanish from your memory, as he has done from your life." -"Then you don't think I'll see him again?" -"I fear not." -"Then what has happened to him?" -"You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an -accurate description of him and any letters of his which you can -spare." -"I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle," said she. -"Here is the slip and here are four letters from him." -"Thank you. And your address?" -"No. Lyon Place, Camberwell." -"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is your -father's place of business?" -"He travels for Westhouse Marbank, the great claret importers -of Fenchurch Street." -"Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You will -leave the papers here, and remember the advice which I have given -you. Let the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not allow it -to affect your life." -"You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be -true to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back." -For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there was -something noble in the simple faith of our visitor which -compelled our respect. She laid her little bundle of papers upon -the table and went her way, with a promise to come again whenever -she might be summoned. -Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes with his fingertips -still pressed together, his legs stretched out in front of him, -and his gaze directed upward to the ceiling. Then he took down -from the rack the old and oily clay pipe, which was to him as a -counsellor, and, having lit it, he leaned back in his chair, with -the thick blue cloudwreaths spinning up from him, and a look of -infinite languor in his face. -"Quite an interesting study, that maiden," he observed. "I found -her more interesting than her little problem, which, by the way, -is rather a trite one. You will find parallel cases, if you -consult my index, in Andover in ', and there was something of -the sort at The Hague last year. Old as is the idea, however, -there were one or two details which were new to me. But the -maiden herself was most instructive." -"You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quite -invisible to me," I remarked. -"Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where to -look, and so you missed all that was important. I can never bring -you to realise the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of -thumbnails, or the great issues that may hang from a bootlace. -Now, what did you gather from that woman's appearance? Describe -it." -"Well, she had a slatecoloured, broadbrimmed straw hat, with a -feather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beads -sewn upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her -dress was brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a little -purple plush at the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish and -were worn through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn't -observe. She had small round, hanging gold earrings, and a -general air of being fairly welltodo in a vulgar, comfortable, -easygoing way." -Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled. -"'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You have -really done very well indeed. It is true that you have missed -everything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, and -you have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general -impressions, my boy, but concentrate yourself upon details. My -first glance is always at a woman's sleeve. In a man it is -perhaps better first to take the knee of the trouser. As you -observe, this woman had plush upon her sleeves, which is a most -useful material for showing traces. The double line a little -above the wrist, where the typewritist presses against the table, -was beautifully defined. The sewingmachine, of the hand type, -leaves a similar mark, but only on the left arm, and on the side -of it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right across the -broadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, and, -observing the dint of a pincenez at either side of her nose, I -ventured a remark upon short sight and typewriting, which seemed -to surprise her." -"It surprised me." -"But, surely, it was obvious. I was then much surprised and -interested on glancing down to observe that, though the boots -which she was wearing were not unlike each other, they were -really odd ones the one having a slightly decorated toecap, and -the other a plain one. One was buttoned only in the two lower -buttons out of five, and the other at the first, third, and -fifth. Now, when you see that a young lady, otherwise neatly -dressed, has come away from home with odd boots, halfbuttoned, -it is no great deduction to say that she came away in a hurry." -"And what else?" I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, by -my friend's incisive reasoning. -"I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving -home but after being fully dressed. You observed that her right -glove was torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see -that both glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She had -written in a hurry and dipped her pen too deep. It must have been -this morning, or the mark would not remain clear upon the finger. -All this is amusing, though rather elementary, but I must go back -to business, Watson. Would you mind reading me the advertised -description of Mr. Hosmer Angel?" -I held the little printed slip to the light. -"Missing," it said, "on the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman -named Hosmer Angel. About five ft. seven in. in height -strongly built, sallow complexion, black hair, a little bald in -the centre, bushy, black sidewhiskers and moustache tinted -glasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last seen, -in black frockcoat faced with silk, black waistcoat, gold Albert -chain, and grey Harris tweed trousers, with brown gaiters over -elasticsided boots. Known to have been employed in an office in -Leadenhall Street. Anybody bringing" -"That will do," said Holmes. "As to the letters," he continued, -glancing over them, "they are very commonplace. Absolutely no -clue in them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There -is one remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strike -you." -"They are typewritten," I remarked. -"Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at the -neat little 'Hosmer Angel' at the bottom. There is a date, you -see, but no superscription except Leadenhall Street, which is -rather vague. The point about the signature is very suggestive -in fact, we may call it conclusive." -"Of what?" -"My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly it -bears upon the case?" -"I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be able -to deny his signature if an action for breach of promise were -instituted." -"No, that was not the point. However, I shall write two letters, -which should settle the matter. One is to a firm in the City, the -other is to the young lady's stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking -him whether he could meet us here at six o'clock tomorrow -evening. It is just as well that we should do business with the -male relatives. And now, Doctor, we can do nothing until the -answers to those letters come, so we may put our little problem -upon the shelf for the interim." -I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend's subtle powers -of reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt that -he must have some solid grounds for the assured and easy -demeanour with which he treated the singular mystery which he had -been called upon to fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, in -the case of the King of Bohemia and of the Irene Adler -photograph but when I looked back to the weird business of the -Sign of Four, and the extraordinary circumstances connected with -the Study in Scarlet, I felt that it would be a strange tangle -indeed which he could not unravel. -I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe, with the -conviction that when I came again on the next evening I would -find that he held in his hands all the clues which would lead up -to the identity of the disappearing bridegroom of Miss Mary -Sutherland. -A professional case of great gravity was engaging my own -attention at the time, and the whole of next day I was busy at -the bedside of the sufferer. It was not until close upon six -o'clock that I found myself free and was able to spring into a -hansom and drive to Baker Street, half afraid that I might be too -late to assist at the dnouement of the little mystery. I found -Sherlock Holmes alone, however, half asleep, with his long, thin -form curled up in the recesses of his armchair. A formidable -array of bottles and testtubes, with the pungent cleanly smell -of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spent his day in the -chemical work which was so dear to him. -"Well, have you solved it?" I asked as I entered. -"Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta." -"No, no, the mystery" I cried. -"Oh, that I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. -There was never any mystery in the matter, though, as I said -yesterday, some of the details are of interest. The only drawback -is that there is no law, I fear, that can touch the scoundrel." -"Who was he, then, and what was his object in deserting Miss -Sutherland?" -The question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmes had not yet -opened his lips to reply, when we heard a heavy footfall in the -passage and a tap at the door. -"This is the girl's stepfather, Mr. James Windibank," said -Holmes. "He has written to me to say that he would be here at -six. Come in" -The man who entered was a sturdy, middlesized fellow, some -thirty years of age, cleanshaven, and sallowskinned, with a -bland, insinuating manner, and a pair of wonderfully sharp and -penetrating grey eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of -us, placed his shiny tophat upon the sideboard, and with a -slight bow sidled down into the nearest chair. -"Goodevening, Mr. James Windibank," said Holmes. "I think that -this typewritten letter is from you, in which you made an -appointment with me for six o'clock?" -"Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late, but I am not -quite my own master, you know. I am sorry that Miss Sutherland -has troubled you about this little matter, for I think it is far -better not to wash linen of the sort in public. It was quite -against my wishes that she came, but she is a very excitable, -impulsive girl, as you may have noticed, and she is not easily -controlled when she has made up her mind on a point. Of course, I -did not mind you so much, as you are not connected with the -official police, but it is not pleasant to have a family -misfortune like this noised abroad. Besides, it is a useless -expense, for how could you possibly find this Hosmer Angel?" -"On the contrary," said Holmes quietly "I have every reason to -believe that I will succeed in discovering Mr. Hosmer Angel." -Mr. Windibank gave a violent start and dropped his gloves. "I am -delighted to hear it," he said. -"It is a curious thing," remarked Holmes, "that a typewriter has -really quite as much individuality as a man's handwriting. Unless -they are quite new, no two of them write exactly alike. Some -letters get more worn than others, and some wear only on one -side. Now, you remark in this note of yours, Mr. Windibank, that -in every case there is some little slurring over of the 'e,' and -a slight defect in the tail of the 'r.' There are fourteen other -characteristics, but those are the more obvious." -"We do all our correspondence with this machine at the office, -and no doubt it is a little worn," our visitor answered, glancing -keenly at Holmes with his bright little eyes. -"And now I will show you what is really a very interesting study, -Mr. Windibank," Holmes continued. "I think of writing another -little monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its -relation to crime. It is a subject to which I have devoted some -little attention. I have here four letters which purport to come -from the missing man. They are all typewritten. In each case, not -only are the 'e's' slurred and the 'r's' tailless, but you will -observe, if you care to use my magnifying lens, that the fourteen -other characteristics to which I have alluded are there as well." -Mr. Windibank sprang out of his chair and picked up his hat. "I -cannot waste time over this sort of fantastic talk, Mr. Holmes," -he said. "If you can catch the man, catch him, and let me know -when you have done it." -"Certainly," said Holmes, stepping over and turning the key in -the door. "I let you know, then, that I have caught him" -"What where?" shouted Mr. Windibank, turning white to his lips -and glancing about him like a rat in a trap. -"Oh, it won't doreally it won't," said Holmes suavely. "There -is no possible getting out of it, Mr. Windibank. It is quite too -transparent, and it was a very bad compliment when you said that -it was impossible for me to solve so simple a question. That's -right Sit down and let us talk it over." -Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly face and a -glitter of moisture on his brow. "Itit's not actionable," he -stammered. -"I am very much afraid that it is not. But between ourselves, -Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a -petty way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the -course of events, and you will contradict me if I go wrong." -The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his head sunk upon his -breast, like one who is utterly crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up -on the corner of the mantelpiece and, leaning back with his hands -in his pockets, began talking, rather to himself, as it seemed, -than to us. -"The man married a woman very much older than himself for her -money," said he, "and he enjoyed the use of the money of the -daughter as long as she lived with them. It was a considerable -sum, for people in their position, and the loss of it would have -made a serious difference. It was worth an effort to preserve it. -The daughter was of a good, amiable disposition, but affectionate -and warmhearted in her ways, so that it was evident that with -her fair personal advantages, and her little income, she would -not be allowed to remain single long. Now her marriage would -mean, of course, the loss of a hundred a year, so what does her -stepfather do to prevent it? He takes the obvious course of -keeping her at home and forbidding her to seek the company of -people of her own age. But soon he found that that would not -answer forever. She became restive, insisted upon her rights, and -finally announced her positive intention of going to a certain -ball. What does her clever stepfather do then? He conceives an -idea more creditable to his head than to his heart. With the -connivance and assistance of his wife he disguised himself, -covered those keen eyes with tinted glasses, masked the face with -a moustache and a pair of bushy whiskers, sunk that clear voice -into an insinuating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the -girl's short sight, he appears as Mr. Hosmer Angel, and keeps off -other lovers by making love himself." -"It was only a joke at first," groaned our visitor. "We never -thought that she would have been so carried away." -"Very likely not. However that may be, the young lady was very -decidedly carried away, and, having quite made up her mind that -her stepfather was in France, the suspicion of treachery never -for an instant entered her mind. She was flattered by the -gentleman's attentions, and the effect was increased by the -loudly expressed admiration of her mother. Then Mr. Angel began -to call, for it was obvious that the matter should be pushed as -far as it would go if a real effect were to be produced. There -were meetings, and an engagement, which would finally secure the -girl's affections from turning towards anyone else. But the -deception could not be kept up forever. These pretended journeys -to France were rather cumbrous. The thing to do was clearly to -bring the business to an end in such a dramatic manner that it -would leave a permanent impression upon the young lady's mind and -prevent her from looking upon any other suitor for some time to -come. Hence those vows of fidelity exacted upon a Testament, and -hence also the allusions to a possibility of something happening -on the very morning of the wedding. James Windibank wished Miss -Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel, and so uncertain as to -his fate, that for ten years to come, at any rate, she would not -listen to another man. As far as the church door he brought her, -and then, as he could go no farther, he conveniently vanished -away by the old trick of stepping in at one door of a -fourwheeler and out at the other. I think that was the chain of -events, Mr. Windibank" -Our visitor had recovered something of his assurance while Holmes -had been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold -sneer upon his pale face. -"It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes," said he, "but if you -are so very sharp you ought to be sharp enough to know that it is -you who are breaking the law now, and not me. I have done nothing -actionable from the first, but as long as you keep that door -locked you lay yourself open to an action for assault and illegal -constraint." -"The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said Holmes, unlocking -and throwing open the door, "yet there never was a man who -deserved punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a -friend, he ought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove" -he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon -the man's face, "it is not part of my duties to my client, but -here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat -myself to" He took two swift steps to the whip, but before he -could grasp it there was a wild clatter of steps upon the stairs, -the heavy hall door banged, and from the window we could see Mr. -James Windibank running at the top of his speed down the road. -"There's a coldblooded scoundrel" said Holmes, laughing, as he -threw himself down into his chair once more. "That fellow will -rise from crime to crime until he does something very bad, and -ends on a gallows. The case has, in some respects, been not -entirely devoid of interest." -"I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning," I -remarked. -"Well, of course it was obvious from the first that this Mr. -Hosmer Angel must have some strong object for his curious -conduct, and it was equally clear that the only man who really -profited by the incident, as far as we could see, was the -stepfather. Then the fact that the two men were never together, -but that the one always appeared when the other was away, was -suggestive. So were the tinted spectacles and the curious voice, -which both hinted at a disguise, as did the bushy whiskers. My -suspicions were all confirmed by his peculiar action in -typewriting his signature, which, of course, inferred that his -handwriting was so familiar to her that she would recognise even -the smallest sample of it. You see all these isolated facts, -together with many minor ones, all pointed in the same -direction." -"And how did you verify them?" -"Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. I -knew the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printed -description. I eliminated everything from it which could be the -result of a disguisethe whiskers, the glasses, the voice, and I -sent it to the firm, with a request that they would inform me -whether it answered to the description of any of their -travellers. I had already noticed the peculiarities of the -typewriter, and I wrote to the man himself at his business -address asking him if he would come here. As I expected, his -reply was typewritten and revealed the same trivial but -characteristic defects. The same post brought me a letter from -Westhouse Marbank, of Fenchurch Street, to say that the -description tallied in every respect with that of their employ, -James Windibank. Voil tout" -"And Miss Sutherland?" -"If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old -Persian saying, 'There is danger for him who taketh the tiger -cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.' -There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much -knowledge of the world." -ADVENTURE IV. THE BOSCOMBE VALLEY MYSTERY -We were seated at breakfast one morning, my wife and I, when the -maid brought in a telegram. It was from Sherlock Holmes and ran -in this way -"Have you a couple of days to spare? Have just been wired for from -the west of England in connection with Boscombe Valley tragedy. -Shall be glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. -Leave Paddington by the ." -"What do you say, dear?" said my wife, looking across at me. -"Will you go?" -"I really don't know what to say. I have a fairly long list at -present." -"Oh, Anstruther would do your work for you. You have been looking -a little pale lately. I think that the change would do you good, -and you are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock Holmes' cases." -"I should be ungrateful if I were not, seeing what I gained -through one of them," I answered. "But if I am to go, I must pack -at once, for I have only half an hour." -My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the -effect of making me a prompt and ready traveller. My wants were -few and simple, so that in less than the time stated I was in a -cab with my valise, rattling away to Paddington Station. Sherlock -Holmes was pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt -figure made even gaunter and taller by his long grey -travellingcloak and closefitting cloth cap. -"It is really very good of you to come, Watson," said he. "It -makes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me on -whom I can thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless -or else biassed. If you will keep the two corner seats I shall -get the tickets." -We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of -papers which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged -and read, with intervals of notetaking and of meditation, until -we were past Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a -gigantic ball and tossed them up onto the rack. -"Have you heard anything of the case?" he asked. -"Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days." -"The London press has not had very full accounts. I have just -been looking through all the recent papers in order to master the -particulars. It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those -simple cases which are so extremely difficult." -"That sounds a little paradoxical." -"But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariably a -clue. The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more -difficult it is to bring it home. In this case, however, they -have established a very serious case against the son of the -murdered man." -"It is a murder, then?" -"Well, it is conjectured to be so. I shall take nothing for -granted until I have the opportunity of looking personally into -it. I will explain the state of things to you, as far as I have -been able to understand it, in a very few words. -"Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in -Herefordshire. The largest landed proprietor in that part is a -Mr. John Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned -some years ago to the old country. One of the farms which he -held, that of Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was -also an exAustralian. The men had known each other in the -colonies, so that it was not unnatural that when they came to -settle down they should do so as near each other as possible. -Turner was apparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his -tenant but still remained, it seems, upon terms of perfect -equality, as they were frequently together. McCarthy had one son, -a lad of eighteen, and Turner had an only daughter of the same -age, but neither of them had wives living. They appear to have -avoided the society of the neighbouring English families and to -have led retired lives, though both the McCarthys were fond of -sport and were frequently seen at the racemeetings of the -neighbourhood. McCarthy kept two servantsa man and a girl. -Turner had a considerable household, some halfdozen at the -least. That is as much as I have been able to gather about the -families. Now for the facts. -"On June rd, that is, on Monday last, McCarthy left his house at -Hatherley about three in the afternoon and walked down to the -Boscombe Pool, which is a small lake formed by the spreading out -of the stream which runs down the Boscombe Valley. He had been -out with his servingman in the morning at Ross, and he had told -the man that he must hurry, as he had an appointment of -importance to keep at three. From that appointment he never came -back alive. -"From Hatherley Farmhouse to the Boscombe Pool is a quarter of a -mile, and two people saw him as he passed over this ground. One -was an old woman, whose name is not mentioned, and the other was -William Crowder, a gamekeeper in the employ of Mr. Turner. Both -these witnesses depose that Mr. McCarthy was walking alone. The -gamekeeper adds that within a few minutes of his seeing Mr. -McCarthy pass he had seen his son, Mr. James McCarthy, going the -same way with a gun under his arm. To the best of his belief, the -father was actually in sight at the time, and the son was -following him. He thought no more of the matter until he heard in -the evening of the tragedy that had occurred. -"The two McCarthys were seen after the time when William Crowder, -the gamekeeper, lost sight of them. The Boscombe Pool is thickly -wooded round, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the -edge. A girl of fourteen, Patience Moran, who is the daughter of -the lodgekeeper of the Boscombe Valley estate, was in one of the -woods picking flowers. She states that while she was there she -saw, at the border of the wood and close by the lake, Mr. -McCarthy and his son, and that they appeared to be having a -violent quarrel. She heard Mr. McCarthy the elder using very -strong language to his son, and she saw the latter raise up his -hand as if to strike his father. She was so frightened by their -violence that she ran away and told her mother when she reached -home that she had left the two McCarthys quarrelling near -Boscombe Pool, and that she was afraid that they were going to -fight. She had hardly said the words when young Mr. McCarthy came -running up to the lodge to say that he had found his father dead -in the wood, and to ask for the help of the lodgekeeper. He was -much excited, without either his gun or his hat, and his right -hand and sleeve were observed to be stained with fresh blood. On -following him they found the dead body stretched out upon the -grass beside the pool. The head had been beaten in by repeated -blows of some heavy and blunt weapon. The injuries were such as -might very well have been inflicted by the buttend of his son's -gun, which was found lying on the grass within a few paces of the -body. Under these circumstances the young man was instantly -arrested, and a verdict of 'wilful murder' having been returned -at the inquest on Tuesday, he was on Wednesday brought before the -magistrates at Ross, who have referred the case to the next -Assizes. Those are the main facts of the case as they came out -before the coroner and the policecourt." -"I could hardly imagine a more damning case," I remarked. "If -ever circumstantial evidence pointed to a criminal it does so -here." -"Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing," answered Holmes -thoughtfully. "It may seem to point very straight to one thing, -but if you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it -pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something -entirely different. It must be confessed, however, that the case -looks exceedingly grave against the young man, and it is very -possible that he is indeed the culprit. There are several people -in the neighbourhood, however, and among them Miss Turner, the -daughter of the neighbouring landowner, who believe in his -innocence, and who have retained Lestrade, whom you may recollect -in connection with the Study in Scarlet, to work out the case in -his interest. Lestrade, being rather puzzled, has referred the -case to me, and hence it is that two middleaged gentlemen are -flying westward at fifty miles an hour instead of quietly -digesting their breakfasts at home." -"I am afraid," said I, "that the facts are so obvious that you -will find little credit to be gained out of this case." -"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact," he -answered, laughing. "Besides, we may chance to hit upon some -other obvious facts which may have been by no means obvious to -Mr. Lestrade. You know me too well to think that I am boasting -when I say that I shall either confirm or destroy his theory by -means which he is quite incapable of employing, or even of -understanding. To take the first example to hand, I very clearly -perceive that in your bedroom the window is upon the righthand -side, and yet I question whether Mr. Lestrade would have noted -even so selfevident a thing as that." -"How on earth" -"My dear fellow, I know you well. I know the military neatness -which characterises you. You shave every morning, and in this -season you shave by the sunlight but since your shaving is less -and less complete as we get farther back on the left side, until -it becomes positively slovenly as we get round the angle of the -jaw, it is surely very clear that that side is less illuminated -than the other. I could not imagine a man of your habits looking -at himself in an equal light and being satisfied with such a -result. I only quote this as a trivial example of observation and -inference. Therein lies my mtier, and it is just possible that -it may be of some service in the investigation which lies before -us. There are one or two minor points which were brought out in -the inquest, and which are worth considering." -"What are they?" -"It appears that his arrest did not take place at once, but after -the return to Hatherley Farm. On the inspector of constabulary -informing him that he was a prisoner, he remarked that he was not -surprised to hear it, and that it was no more than his deserts. -This observation of his had the natural effect of removing any -traces of doubt which might have remained in the minds of the -coroner's jury." -"It was a confession," I ejaculated. -"No, for it was followed by a protestation of innocence." -"Coming on the top of such a damning series of events, it was at -least a most suspicious remark." -"On the contrary," said Holmes, "it is the brightest rift which I -can at present see in the clouds. However innocent he might be, -he could not be such an absolute imbecile as not to see that the -circumstances were very black against him. Had he appeared -surprised at his own arrest, or feigned indignation at it, I -should have looked upon it as highly suspicious, because such -surprise or anger would not be natural under the circumstances, -and yet might appear to be the best policy to a scheming man. His -frank acceptance of the situation marks him as either an innocent -man, or else as a man of considerable selfrestraint and -firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it was also not -unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead body of -his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very day -so far forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and -even, according to the little girl whose evidence is so -important, to raise his hand as if to strike him. The -selfreproach and contrition which are displayed in his remark -appear to me to be the signs of a healthy mind rather than of a -guilty one." -I shook my head. "Many men have been hanged on far slighter -evidence," I remarked. -"So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged." -"What is the young man's own account of the matter?" -"It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, -though there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. -You will find it here, and may read it for yourself." -He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire -paper, and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the -paragraph in which the unfortunate young man had given his own -statement of what had occurred. I settled myself down in the -corner of the carriage and read it very carefully. It ran in this -way -"Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called -and gave evidence as follows 'I had been away from home for -three days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the -morning of last Monday, the rd. My father was absent from home at -the time of my arrival, and I was informed by the maid that he -had driven over to Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after -my return I heard the wheels of his trap in the yard, and, -looking out of my window, I saw him get out and walk rapidly out -of the yard, though I was not aware in which direction he was -going. I then took my gun and strolled out in the direction of -the Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting the rabbit -warren which is upon the other side. On my way I saw William -Crowder, the gamekeeper, as he had stated in his evidence but -he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had -no idea that he was in front of me. When about a hundred yards -from the pool I heard a cry of "Cooee" which was a usual signal -between my father and myself. I then hurried forward, and found -him standing by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at -seeing me and asked me rather roughly what I was doing there. A -conversation ensued which led to high words and almost to blows, -for my father was a man of a very violent temper. Seeing that his -passion was becoming ungovernable, I left him and returned -towards Hatherley Farm. I had not gone more than yards, -however, when I heard a hideous outcry behind me, which caused me -to run back again. I found my father expiring upon the ground, -with his head terribly injured. I dropped my gun and held him in -my arms, but he almost instantly expired. I knelt beside him for -some minutes, and then made my way to Mr. Turner's lodgekeeper, -his house being the nearest, to ask for assistance. I saw no one -near my father when I returned, and I have no idea how he came by -his injuries. He was not a popular man, being somewhat cold and -forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far as I know, no -active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.' -"The Coroner Did your father make any statement to you before -he died? -"Witness He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some -allusion to a rat. -"The Coroner What did you understand by that? -"Witness It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was -delirious. -"The Coroner What was the point upon which you and your father -had this final quarrel? -"Witness I should prefer not to answer. -"The Coroner I am afraid that I must press it. -"Witness It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can -assure you that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which -followed. -"The Coroner That is for the court to decide. I need not point -out to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case -considerably in any future proceedings which may arise. -"Witness I must still refuse. -"The Coroner I understand that the cry of 'Cooee' was a common -signal between you and your father? -"Witness It was. -"The Coroner How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw -you, and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol? -"Witness with considerable confusion I do not know. -"A Juryman Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions -when you returned on hearing the cry and found your father -fatally injured? -"Witness Nothing definite. -"The Coroner What do you mean? -"Witness I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into -the open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet -I have a vague impression that as I ran forward something lay -upon the ground to the left of me. It seemed to me to be -something grey in colour, a coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. -When I rose from my father I looked round for it, but it was -gone. -"'Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?' -"'Yes, it was gone.' -"'You cannot say what it was?' -"'No, I had a feeling something was there.' -"'How far from the body?' -"'A dozen yards or so.' -"'And how far from the edge of the wood?' -"'About the same.' -"'Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen -yards of it?' -"'Yes, but with my back towards it.' -"This concluded the examination of the witness." -"I see," said I as I glanced down the column, "that the coroner -in his concluding remarks was rather severe upon young McCarthy. -He calls attention, and with reason, to the discrepancy about his -father having signalled to him before seeing him, also to his -refusal to give details of his conversation with his father, and -his singular account of his father's dying words. They are all, -as he remarks, very much against the son." -Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon -the cushioned seat. "Both you and the coroner have been at some -pains," said he, "to single out the very strongest points in the -young man's favour. Don't you see that you alternately give him -credit for having too much imagination and too little? Too -little, if he could not invent a cause of quarrel which would -give him the sympathy of the jury too much, if he evolved from -his own inner consciousness anything so outr as a dying -reference to a rat, and the incident of the vanishing cloth. No, -sir, I shall approach this case from the point of view that what -this young man says is true, and we shall see whither that -hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket Petrarch, and -not another word shall I say of this case until we are on the -scene of action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall be -there in twenty minutes." -It was nearly four o'clock when we at last, after passing through -the beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, -found ourselves at the pretty little countrytown of Ross. A -lean, ferretlike man, furtive and slylooking, was waiting for -us upon the platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and -leatherleggings which he wore in deference to his rustic -surroundings, I had no difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of -Scotland Yard. With him we drove to the Hereford Arms where a -room had already been engaged for us. -"I have ordered a carriage," said Lestrade as we sat over a cup -of tea. "I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be -happy until you had been on the scene of the crime." -"It was very nice and complimentary of you," Holmes answered. "It -is entirely a question of barometric pressure." -Lestrade looked startled. "I do not quite follow," he said. -"How is the glass? Twentynine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud -in the sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need -smoking, and the sofa is very much superior to the usual country -hotel abomination. I do not think that it is probable that I -shall use the carriage tonight." -Lestrade laughed indulgently. "You have, no doubt, already formed -your conclusions from the newspapers," he said. "The case is as -plain as a pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer -it becomes. Still, of course, one can't refuse a lady, and such a -very positive one, too. She has heard of you, and would have your -opinion, though I repeatedly told her that there was nothing -which you could do which I had not already done. Why, bless my -soul here is her carriage at the door." -He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the -most lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her -violet eyes shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her -cheeks, all thought of her natural reserve lost in her -overpowering excitement and concern. -"Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes" she cried, glancing from one to the -other of us, and finally, with a woman's quick intuition, -fastening upon my companion, "I am so glad that you have come. I -have driven down to tell you so. I know that James didn't do it. -I know it, and I want you to start upon your work knowing it, -too. Never let yourself doubt upon that point. We have known each -other since we were little children, and I know his faults as no -one else does but he is too tenderhearted to hurt a fly. Such a -charge is absurd to anyone who really knows him." -"I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner," said Sherlock Holmes. -"You may rely upon my doing all that I can." -"But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion? -Do you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself -think that he is innocent?" -"I think that it is very probable." -"There, now" she cried, throwing back her head and looking -defiantly at Lestrade. "You hear He gives me hopes." -Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am afraid that my colleague -has been a little quick in forming his conclusions," he said. -"But he is right. Oh I know that he is right. James never did -it. And about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the -reason why he would not speak about it to the coroner was because -I was concerned in it." -"In what way?" asked Holmes. -"It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had -many disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that -there should be a marriage between us. James and I have always -loved each other as brother and sister but of course he is young -and has seen very little of life yet, andandwell, he -naturally did not wish to do anything like that yet. So there -were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of them." -"And your father?" asked Holmes. "Was he in favour of such a -union?" -"No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in -favour of it." A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as -Holmes shot one of his keen, questioning glances at her. -"Thank you for this information," said he. "May I see your father -if I call tomorrow?" -"I am afraid the doctor won't allow it." -"The doctor?" -"Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for -years back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken -to his bed, and Dr. Willows says that he is a wreck and that his -nervous system is shattered. Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive -who had known dad in the old days in Victoria." -"Ha In Victoria That is important." -"Yes, at the mines." -"Quite so at the goldmines, where, as I understand, Mr. Turner -made his money." -"Yes, certainly." -"Thank you, Miss Turner. You have been of material assistance to -me." -"You will tell me if you have any news tomorrow. No doubt you -will go to the prison to see James. Oh, if you do, Mr. Holmes, do -tell him that I know him to be innocent." -"I will, Miss Turner." -"I must go home now, for dad is very ill, and he misses me so if -I leave him. Goodbye, and God help you in your undertaking." She -hurried from the room as impulsively as she had entered, and we -heard the wheels of her carriage rattle off down the street. -"I am ashamed of you, Holmes," said Lestrade with dignity after a -few minutes' silence. "Why should you raise up hopes which you -are bound to disappoint? I am not overtender of heart, but I -call it cruel." -"I think that I see my way to clearing James McCarthy," said -Holmes. "Have you an order to see him in prison?" -"Yes, but only for you and me." -"Then I shall reconsider my resolution about going out. We have -still time to take a train to Hereford and see him tonight?" -"Ample." -"Then let us do so. Watson, I fear that you will find it very -slow, but I shall only be away a couple of hours." -I walked down to the station with them, and then wandered through -the streets of the little town, finally returning to the hotel, -where I lay upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a -yellowbacked novel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, -however, when compared to the deep mystery through which we were -groping, and I found my attention wander so continually from the -action to the fact, that I at last flung it across the room and -gave myself up entirely to a consideration of the events of the -day. Supposing that this unhappy young man's story were -absolutely true, then what hellish thing, what absolutely -unforeseen and extraordinary calamity could have occurred between -the time when he parted from his father, and the moment when, -drawn back by his screams, he rushed into the glade? It was -something terrible and deadly. What could it be? Might not the -nature of the injuries reveal something to my medical instincts? -I rang the bell and called for the weekly county paper, which -contained a verbatim account of the inquest. In the surgeon's -deposition it was stated that the posterior third of the left -parietal bone and the left half of the occipital bone had been -shattered by a heavy blow from a blunt weapon. I marked the spot -upon my own head. Clearly such a blow must have been struck from -behind. That was to some extent in favour of the accused, as when -seen quarrelling he was face to face with his father. Still, it -did not go for very much, for the older man might have turned his -back before the blow fell. Still, it might be worth while to call -Holmes' attention to it. Then there was the peculiar dying -reference to a rat. What could that mean? It could not be -delirium. A man dying from a sudden blow does not commonly become -delirious. No, it was more likely to be an attempt to explain how -he met his fate. But what could it indicate? I cudgelled my -brains to find some possible explanation. And then the incident -of the grey cloth seen by young McCarthy. If that were true the -murderer must have dropped some part of his dress, presumably his -overcoat, in his flight, and must have had the hardihood to -return and to carry it away at the instant when the son was -kneeling with his back turned not a dozen paces off. What a -tissue of mysteries and improbabilities the whole thing was I -did not wonder at Lestrade's opinion, and yet I had so much faith -in Sherlock Holmes' insight that I could not lose hope as long -as every fresh fact seemed to strengthen his conviction of young -McCarthy's innocence. -It was late before Sherlock Holmes returned. He came back alone, -for Lestrade was staying in lodgings in the town. -"The glass still keeps very high," he remarked as he sat down. -"It is of importance that it should not rain before we are able -to go over the ground. On the other hand, a man should be at his -very best and keenest for such nice work as that, and I did not -wish to do it when fagged by a long journey. I have seen young -McCarthy." -"And what did you learn from him?" -"Nothing." -"Could he throw no light?" -"None at all. I was inclined to think at one time that he knew -who had done it and was screening him or her, but I am convinced -now that he is as puzzled as everyone else. He is not a very -quickwitted youth, though comely to look at and, I should think, -sound at heart." -"I cannot admire his taste," I remarked, "if it is indeed a fact -that he was averse to a marriage with so charming a young lady as -this Miss Turner." -"Ah, thereby hangs a rather painful tale. This fellow is madly, -insanely, in love with her, but some two years ago, when he was -only a lad, and before he really knew her, for she had been away -five years at a boardingschool, what does the idiot do but get -into the clutches of a barmaid in Bristol and marry her at a -registry office? No one knows a word of the matter, but you can -imagine how maddening it must be to him to be upbraided for not -doing what he would give his very eyes to do, but what he knows -to be absolutely impossible. It was sheer frenzy of this sort -which made him throw his hands up into the air when his father, -at their last interview, was goading him on to propose to Miss -Turner. On the other hand, he had no means of supporting himself, -and his father, who was by all accounts a very hard man, would -have thrown him over utterly had he known the truth. It was with -his barmaid wife that he had spent the last three days in -Bristol, and his father did not know where he was. Mark that -point. It is of importance. Good has come out of evil, however, -for the barmaid, finding from the papers that he is in serious -trouble and likely to be hanged, has thrown him over utterly and -has written to him to say that she has a husband already in the -Bermuda Dockyard, so that there is really no tie between them. I -think that that bit of news has consoled young McCarthy for all -that he has suffered." -"But if he is innocent, who has done it?" -"Ah who? I would call your attention very particularly to two -points. One is that the murdered man had an appointment with -someone at the pool, and that the someone could not have been his -son, for his son was away, and he did not know when he would -return. The second is that the murdered man was heard to cry -'Cooee' before he knew that his son had returned. Those are the -crucial points upon which the case depends. And now let us talk -about George Meredith, if you please, and we shall leave all -minor matters until tomorrow." -There was no rain, as Holmes had foretold, and the morning broke -bright and cloudless. At nine o'clock Lestrade called for us with -the carriage, and we set off for Hatherley Farm and the Boscombe -Pool. -"There is serious news this morning," Lestrade observed. "It is -said that Mr. Turner, of the Hall, is so ill that his life is -despaired of." -"An elderly man, I presume?" said Holmes. -"About sixty but his constitution has been shattered by his life -abroad, and he has been in failing health for some time. This -business has had a very bad effect upon him. He was an old friend -of McCarthy's, and, I may add, a great benefactor to him, for I -have learned that he gave him Hatherley Farm rent free." -"Indeed That is interesting," said Holmes. -"Oh, yes In a hundred other ways he has helped him. Everybody -about here speaks of his kindness to him." -"Really Does it not strike you as a little singular that this -McCarthy, who appears to have had little of his own, and to have -been under such obligations to Turner, should still talk of -marrying his son to Turner's daughter, who is, presumably, -heiress to the estate, and that in such a very cocksure manner, -as if it were merely a case of a proposal and all else would -follow? It is the more strange, since we know that Turner himself -was averse to the idea. The daughter told us as much. Do you not -deduce something from that?" -"We have got to the deductions and the inferences," said -Lestrade, winking at me. "I find it hard enough to tackle facts, -Holmes, without flying away after theories and fancies." -"You are right," said Holmes demurely "you do find it very hard -to tackle the facts." -"Anyhow, I have grasped one fact which you seem to find it -difficult to get hold of," replied Lestrade with some warmth. -"And that is" -"That McCarthy senior met his death from McCarthy junior and that -all theories to the contrary are the merest moonshine." -"Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog," said Holmes, -laughing. "But I am very much mistaken if this is not Hatherley -Farm upon the left." -"Yes, that is it." It was a widespread, comfortablelooking -building, twostoried, slateroofed, with great yellow blotches -of lichen upon the grey walls. The drawn blinds and the smokeless -chimneys, however, gave it a stricken look, as though the weight -of this horror still lay heavy upon it. We called at the door, -when the maid, at Holmes' request, showed us the boots which her -master wore at the time of his death, and also a pair of the -son's, though not the pair which he had then had. Having measured -these very carefully from seven or eight different points, Holmes -desired to be led to the courtyard, from which we all followed -the winding track which led to Boscombe Pool. -Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon such a scent -as this. Men who had only known the quiet thinker and logician of -Baker Street would have failed to recognise him. His face flushed -and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, -while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. -His face was bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips -compressed, and the veins stood out like whipcord in his long, -sinewy neck. His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal -lust for the chase, and his mind was so absolutely concentrated -upon the matter before him that a question or remark fell -unheeded upon his ears, or, at the most, only provoked a quick, -impatient snarl in reply. Swiftly and silently he made his way -along the track which ran through the meadows, and so by way of -the woods to the Boscombe Pool. It was damp, marshy ground, as is -all that district, and there were marks of many feet, both upon -the path and amid the short grass which bounded it on either -side. Sometimes Holmes would hurry on, sometimes stop dead, and -once he made quite a little detour into the meadow. Lestrade and -I walked behind him, the detective indifferent and contemptuous, -while I watched my friend with the interest which sprang from the -conviction that every one of his actions was directed towards a -definite end. -The Boscombe Pool, which is a little reedgirt sheet of water -some fifty yards across, is situated at the boundary between the -Hatherley Farm and the private park of the wealthy Mr. Turner. -Above the woods which lined it upon the farther side we could see -the red, jutting pinnacles which marked the site of the rich -landowner's dwelling. On the Hatherley side of the pool the woods -grew very thick, and there was a narrow belt of sodden grass -twenty paces across between the edge of the trees and the reeds -which lined the lake. Lestrade showed us the exact spot at which -the body had been found, and, indeed, so moist was the ground, -that I could plainly see the traces which had been left by the -fall of the stricken man. To Holmes, as I could see by his eager -face and peering eyes, very many other things were to be read -upon the trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking -up a scent, and then turned upon my companion. -"What did you go into the pool for?" he asked. -"I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon -or other trace. But how on earth" -"Oh, tut, tut I have no time That left foot of yours with its -inward twist is all over the place. A mole could trace it, and -there it vanishes among the reeds. Oh, how simple it would all -have been had I been here before they came like a herd of buffalo -and wallowed all over it. Here is where the party with the -lodgekeeper came, and they have covered all tracks for six or -eight feet round the body. But here are three separate tracks of -the same feet." He drew out a lens and lay down upon his -waterproof to have a better view, talking all the time rather to -himself than to us. "These are young McCarthy's feet. Twice he -was walking, and once he ran swiftly, so that the soles are -deeply marked and the heels hardly visible. That bears out his -story. He ran when he saw his father on the ground. Then here are -the father's feet as he paced up and down. What is this, then? It -is the buttend of the gun as the son stood listening. And this? -Ha, ha What have we here? Tiptoes tiptoes Square, too, quite -unusual boots They come, they go, they come againof course -that was for the cloak. Now where did they come from?" He ran up -and down, sometimes losing, sometimes finding the track until we -were well within the edge of the wood and under the shadow of a -great beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. Holmes traced -his way to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon -his face with a little cry of satisfaction. For a long time he -remained there, turning over the leaves and dried sticks, -gathering up what seemed to me to be dust into an envelope and -examining with his lens not only the ground but even the bark of -the tree as far as he could reach. A jagged stone was lying among -the moss, and this also he carefully examined and retained. Then -he followed a pathway through the wood until he came to the -highroad, where all traces were lost. -"It has been a case of considerable interest," he remarked, -returning to his natural manner. "I fancy that this grey house on -the right must be the lodge. I think that I will go in and have a -word with Moran, and perhaps write a little note. Having done -that, we may drive back to our luncheon. You may walk to the cab, -and I shall be with you presently." -It was about ten minutes before we regained our cab and drove -back into Ross, Holmes still carrying with him the stone which he -had picked up in the wood. -"This may interest you, Lestrade," he remarked, holding it out. -"The murder was done with it." -"I see no marks." -"There are none." -"How do you know, then?" -"The grass was growing under it. It had only lain there a few -days. There was no sign of a place whence it had been taken. It -corresponds with the injuries. There is no sign of any other -weapon." -"And the murderer?" -"Is a tall man, lefthanded, limps with the right leg, wears -thicksoled shootingboots and a grey cloak, smokes Indian -cigars, uses a cigarholder, and carries a blunt penknife in his -pocket. There are several other indications, but these may be -enough to aid us in our search." -Lestrade laughed. "I am afraid that I am still a sceptic," he -said. "Theories are all very well, but we have to deal with a -hardheaded British jury." -"Nous verrons," answered Holmes calmly. "You work your own -method, and I shall work mine. I shall be busy this afternoon, -and shall probably return to London by the evening train." -"And leave your case unfinished?" -"No, finished." -"But the mystery?" -"It is solved." -"Who was the criminal, then?" -"The gentleman I describe." -"But who is he?" -"Surely it would not be difficult to find out. This is not such a -populous neighbourhood." -Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am a practical man," he said, -"and I really cannot undertake to go about the country looking -for a lefthanded gentleman with a game leg. I should become the -laughingstock of Scotland Yard." -"All right," said Holmes quietly. "I have given you the chance. -Here are your lodgings. Goodbye. I shall drop you a line before -I leave." -Having left Lestrade at his rooms, we drove to our hotel, where -we found lunch upon the table. Holmes was silent and buried in -thought with a pained expression upon his face, as one who finds -himself in a perplexing position. -"Look here, Watson," he said when the cloth was cleared "just sit -down in this chair and let me preach to you for a little. I don't -know quite what to do, and I should value your advice. Light a -cigar and let me expound." -"Pray do so." -"Well, now, in considering this case there are two points about -young McCarthy's narrative which struck us both instantly, -although they impressed me in his favour and you against him. One -was the fact that his father should, according to his account, -cry 'Cooee' before seeing him. The other was his singular dying -reference to a rat. He mumbled several words, you understand, but -that was all that caught the son's ear. Now from this double -point our research must commence, and we will begin it by -presuming that what the lad says is absolutely true." -"What of this 'Cooee' then?" -"Well, obviously it could not have been meant for the son. The -son, as far as he knew, was in Bristol. It was mere chance that -he was within earshot. The 'Cooee' was meant to attract the -attention of whoever it was that he had the appointment with. But -'Cooee' is a distinctly Australian cry, and one which is used -between Australians. There is a strong presumption that the -person whom McCarthy expected to meet him at Boscombe Pool was -someone who had been in Australia." -"What of the rat, then?" -Sherlock Holmes took a folded paper from his pocket and flattened -it out on the table. "This is a map of the Colony of Victoria," -he said. "I wired to Bristol for it last night." He put his hand -over part of the map. "What do you read?" -"ARAT," I read. -"And now?" He raised his hand. -"BALLARAT." -"Quite so. That was the word the man uttered, and of which his -son only caught the last two syllables. He was trying to utter -the name of his murderer. So and so, of Ballarat." -"It is wonderful" I exclaimed. -"It is obvious. And now, you see, I had narrowed the field down -considerably. The possession of a grey garment was a third point -which, granting the son's statement to be correct, was a -certainty. We have come now out of mere vagueness to the definite -conception of an Australian from Ballarat with a grey cloak." -"Certainly." -"And one who was at home in the district, for the pool can only -be approached by the farm or by the estate, where strangers could -hardly wander." -"Quite so." -"Then comes our expedition of today. By an examination of the -ground I gained the trifling details which I gave to that -imbecile Lestrade, as to the personality of the criminal." -"But how did you gain them?" -"You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of -trifles." -"His height I know that you might roughly judge from the length -of his stride. His boots, too, might be told from their traces." -"Yes, they were peculiar boots." -"But his lameness?" -"The impression of his right foot was always less distinct than -his left. He put less weight upon it. Why? Because he limpedhe -was lame." -"But his lefthandedness." -"You were yourself struck by the nature of the injury as recorded -by the surgeon at the inquest. The blow was struck from -immediately behind, and yet was upon the left side. Now, how can -that be unless it were by a lefthanded man? He had stood behind -that tree during the interview between the father and son. He had -even smoked there. I found the ash of a cigar, which my special -knowledge of tobacco ashes enables me to pronounce as an Indian -cigar. I have, as you know, devoted some attention to this, and -written a little monograph on the ashes of different -varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco. Having found the -ash, I then looked round and discovered the stump among the moss -where he had tossed it. It was an Indian cigar, of the variety -which are rolled in Rotterdam." -"And the cigarholder?" -"I could see that the end had not been in his mouth. Therefore he -used a holder. The tip had been cut off, not bitten off, but the -cut was not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt penknife." -"Holmes," I said, "you have drawn a net round this man from which -he cannot escape, and you have saved an innocent human life as -truly as if you had cut the cord which was hanging him. I see the -direction in which all this points. The culprit is" -"Mr. John Turner," cried the hotel waiter, opening the door of -our sittingroom, and ushering in a visitor. -The man who entered was a strange and impressive figure. His -slow, limping step and bowed shoulders gave the appearance of -decrepitude, and yet his hard, deeplined, craggy features, and -his enormous limbs showed that he was possessed of unusual -strength of body and of character. His tangled beard, grizzled -hair, and outstanding, drooping eyebrows combined to give an air -of dignity and power to his appearance, but his face was of an -ashen white, while his lips and the corners of his nostrils were -tinged with a shade of blue. It was clear to me at a glance that -he was in the grip of some deadly and chronic disease. -"Pray sit down on the sofa," said Holmes gently. "You had my -note?" -"Yes, the lodgekeeper brought it up. You said that you wished to -see me here to avoid scandal." -"I thought people would talk if I went to the Hall." -"And why did you wish to see me?" He looked across at my -companion with despair in his weary eyes, as though his question -was already answered. -"Yes," said Holmes, answering the look rather than the words. "It -is so. I know all about McCarthy." -The old man sank his face in his hands. "God help me" he cried. -"But I would not have let the young man come to harm. I give you -my word that I would have spoken out if it went against him at -the Assizes." -"I am glad to hear you say so," said Holmes gravely. -"I would have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl. It -would break her heartit will break her heart when she hears -that I am arrested." -"It may not come to that," said Holmes. -"What?" -"I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughter -who required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests. -Young McCarthy must be got off, however." -"I am a dying man," said old Turner. "I have had diabetes for -years. My doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a -month. Yet I would rather die under my own roof than in a gaol." -Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand -and a bundle of paper before him. "Just tell us the truth," he -said. "I shall jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watson -here can witness it. Then I could produce your confession at the -last extremity to save young McCarthy. I promise you that I shall -not use it unless it is absolutely needed." -"It's as well," said the old man "it's a question whether I -shall live to the Assizes, so it matters little to me, but I -should wish to spare Alice the shock. And now I will make the -thing clear to you it has been a long time in the acting, but -will not take me long to tell. -"You didn't know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devil -incarnate. I tell you that. God keep you out of the clutches of -such a man as he. His grip has been upon me these twenty years, -and he has blasted my life. I'll tell you first how I came to be -in his power. -"It was in the early ''s at the diggings. I was a young chap -then, hotblooded and reckless, ready to turn my hand at -anything I got among bad companions, took to drink, had no luck -with my claim, took to the bush, and in a word became what you -would call over here a highway robber. There were six of us, and -we had a wild, free life of it, sticking up a station from time -to time, or stopping the wagons on the road to the diggings. -Black Jack of Ballarat was the name I went under, and our party -is still remembered in the colony as the Ballarat Gang. -"One day a gold convoy came down from Ballarat to Melbourne, and -we lay in wait for it and attacked it. There were six troopers -and six of us, so it was a close thing, but we emptied four of -their saddles at the first volley. Three of our boys were killed, -however, before we got the swag. I put my pistol to the head of -the wagondriver, who was this very man McCarthy. I wish to the -Lord that I had shot him then, but I spared him, though I saw his -wicked little eyes fixed on my face, as though to remember every -feature. We got away with the gold, became wealthy men, and made -our way over to England without being suspected. There I parted -from my old pals and determined to settle down to a quiet and -respectable life. I bought this estate, which chanced to be in -the market, and I set myself to do a little good with my money, -to make up for the way in which I had earned it. I married, too, -and though my wife died young she left me my dear little Alice. -Even when she was just a baby her wee hand seemed to lead me down -the right path as nothing else had ever done. In a word, I turned -over a new leaf and did my best to make up for the past. All was -going well when McCarthy laid his grip upon me. -"I had gone up to town about an investment, and I met him in -Regent Street with hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his -foot. -"'Here we are, Jack,' says he, touching me on the arm 'we'll be -as good as a family to you. There's two of us, me and my son, and -you can have the keeping of us. If you don'tit's a fine, -lawabiding country is England, and there's always a policeman -within hail.' -"Well, down they came to the west country, there was no shaking -them off, and there they have lived rent free on my best land -ever since. There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness -turn where I would, there was his cunning, grinning face at my -elbow. It grew worse as Alice grew up, for he soon saw I was more -afraid of her knowing my past than of the police. Whatever he -wanted he must have, and whatever it was I gave him without -question, land, money, houses, until at last he asked a thing -which I could not give. He asked for Alice. -"His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I was -known to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him that -his lad should step into the whole property. But there I was -firm. I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine not that -I had any dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and that -was enough. I stood firm. McCarthy threatened. I braved him to do -his worst. We were to meet at the pool midway between our houses -to talk it over. -"When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so I -smoked a cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone. -But as I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in -me seemed to come uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my -daughter with as little regard for what she might think as if she -were a slut from off the streets. It drove me mad to think that I -and all that I held most dear should be in the power of such a -man as this. Could I not snap the bond? I was already a dying and -a desperate man. Though clear of mind and fairly strong of limb, -I knew that my own fate was sealed. But my memory and my girl -Both could be saved if I could but silence that foul tongue. I -did it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply as I have sinned, -I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But that my girl -should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was more -than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction -than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought -back his son but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I -was forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in -my flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that -occurred." -"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old man -signed the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that we -may never be exposed to such a temptation." -"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?" -"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you -will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the -Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is -condemned I shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be -seen by mortal eye and your secret, whether you be alive or -dead, shall be safe with us." -"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds, -when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace -which you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all his -giant frame, he stumbled slowly from the room. -"God help us" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fate -play such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such -a case as this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say, -'There, but for the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'" -James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a -number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and -submitted to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven -months after our interview, but he is now dead and there is -every prospect that the son and daughter may come to live happily -together in ignorance of the black cloud which rests upon their -past. -ADVENTURE V. THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS -When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes -cases between the years ' and ', I am faced by so many which -present strange and interesting features that it is no easy -matter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, -have already gained publicity through the papers, and others have -not offered a field for those peculiar qualities which my friend -possessed in so high a degree, and which it is the object of -these papers to illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his -analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings without -an ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, and -have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture and -surmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear to -him. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkable -in its details and so startling in its results that I am tempted -to give some account of it in spite of the fact that there are -points in connection with it which never have been, and probably -never will be, entirely cleared up. -The year ' furnished us with a long series of cases of greater -or less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my -headings under this one twelve months I find an account of the -adventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant -Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a -furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the -British barque "Sophy Anderson", of the singular adventures of the -Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the -Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as may be remembered, -Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man's watch, to -prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and that -therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that timea -deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the -case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of -them present such singular features as the strange train of -circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe. -It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales -had set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had -screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so that -even here in the heart of great, handmade London we were forced -to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and -to recognise the presence of those great elemental forces which -shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, like -untamed beasts in a cage. As evening drew in, the storm grew -higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child in -the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the -fireplace crossindexing his records of crime, while I at the -other was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine seastories until -the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend with the text, -and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the long swash of -the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's, and for a -few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker -Street. -"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the -bell. Who could come tonight? Some friend of yours, perhaps?" -"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage -visitors." -"A client, then?" -"If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out -on such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more -likely to be some crony of the landlady's." -Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there -came a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He -stretched out his long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and -towards the vacant chair upon which a newcomer must sit. -"Come in" said he. -The man who entered was young, some twoandtwenty at the -outside, wellgroomed and trimly clad, with something of -refinement and delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella -which he held in his hand, and his long shining waterproof told -of the fierce weather through which he had come. He looked about -him anxiously in the glare of the lamp, and I could see that his -face was pale and his eyes heavy, like those of a man who is -weighed down with some great anxiety. -"I owe you an apology," he said, raising his golden pincenez to -his eyes. "I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have -brought some traces of the storm and rain into your snug -chamber." -"Give me your coat and umbrella," said Holmes. "They may rest -here on the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from -the southwest, I see." -"Yes, from Horsham." -"That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is -quite distinctive." -"I have come for advice." -"That is easily got." -"And help." -"That is not always so easy." -"I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast -how you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal." -"Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards." -"He said that you could solve anything." -"He said too much." -"That you are never beaten." -"I have been beaten four timesthree times by men, and once by a -woman." -"But what is that compared with the number of your successes?" -"It is true that I have been generally successful." -"Then you may be so with me." -"I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me -with some details as to your case." -"It is no ordinary one." -"None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of -appeal." -"And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you -have ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of -events than those which have happened in my own family." -"You fill me with interest," said Holmes. "Pray give us the -essential facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards -question you as to those details which seem to me to be most -important." -The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out -towards the blaze. -"My name," said he, "is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, -as far as I can understand, little to do with this awful -business. It is a hereditary matter so in order to give you an -idea of the facts, I must go back to the commencement of the -affair. -"You must know that my grandfather had two sonsmy uncle Elias -and my father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, -which he enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He -was a patentee of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business -met with such success that he was able to sell it and to retire -upon a handsome competence. -"My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and -became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done -very well. At the time of the war he fought in Jackson's army, -and afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When -Lee laid down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where -he remained for three or four years. About or he came -back to Europe and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham. -He had made a very considerable fortune in the States, and his -reason for leaving them was his aversion to the negroes, and his -dislike of the Republican policy in extending the franchise to -them. He was a singular man, fierce and quicktempered, very -foulmouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring -disposition. During all the years that he lived at Horsham, I -doubt if ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and two or -three fields round his house, and there he would take his -exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave -his room. He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very -heavily, but he would see no society and did not want any -friends, not even his own brother. -"He didn't mind me in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the -time when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This -would be in the year , after he had been eight or nine years -in England. He begged my father to let me live with him and he -was very kind to me in his way. When he was sober he used to be -fond of playing backgammon and draughts with me, and he would -make me his representative both with the servants and with the -tradespeople, so that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite -master of the house. I kept all the keys and could go where I -liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him in -his privacy. There was one singular exception, however, for he -had a single room, a lumberroom up among the attics, which was -invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or -anyone else to enter. With a boy's curiosity I have peeped -through the keyhole, but I was never able to see more than such a -collection of old trunks and bundles as would be expected in such -a room. -"One dayit was in March, a letter with a foreign stamp -lay upon the table in front of the colonel's plate. It was not a -common thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all -paid in ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. 'From -India' said he as he took it up, 'Pondicherry postmark What can -this be?' Opening it hurriedly, out there jumped five little -dried orange pips, which pattered down upon his plate. I began to -laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my lips at the sight -of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were protruding, his -skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope which he -still held in his trembling hand, 'K. K. K.' he shrieked, and -then, 'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me' -"'What is it, uncle?' I cried. -"'Death,' said he, and rising from the table he retired to his -room, leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope -and saw scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the -gum, the letter K three times repeated. There was nothing else -save the five dried pips. What could be the reason of his -overpowering terror? I left the breakfasttable, and as I -ascended the stair I met him coming down with an old rusty key, -which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand, and a small -brass box, like a cashbox, in the other. -"'They may do what they like, but I'll checkmate them still,' -said he with an oath. 'Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my -room today, and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.' -"I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to -step up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the -grate there was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned -paper, while the brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I -glanced at the box I noticed, with a start, that upon the lid was -printed the treble K which I had read in the morning upon the -envelope. -"'I wish you, John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will. I leave -my estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to -my brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to -you. If you can enjoy it in peace, well and good If you find you -cannot, take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest -enemy. I am sorry to give you such a twoedged thing, but I can't -say what turn things are going to take. Kindly sign the paper -where Mr. Fordham shows you.' -"I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with -him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest -impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every -way in my mind without being able to make anything of it. Yet I -could not shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left -behind, though the sensation grew less keen as the weeks passed -and nothing happened to disturb the usual routine of our lives. I -could see a change in my uncle, however. He drank more than ever, -and he was less inclined for any sort of society. Most of his -time he would spend in his room, with the door locked upon the -inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of drunken frenzy -and would burst out of the house and tear about the garden with a -revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of no man, -and that he was not to be cooped up, like a sheep in a pen, by -man or devil. When these hot fits were over, however, he would -rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, -like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the terror -which lies at the roots of his soul. At such times I have seen -his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it -were new raised from a basin. -"Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to -abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those -drunken sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when -we went to search for him, face downward in a little -greenscummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden. There -was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, -so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, -brought in a verdict of 'suicide.' But I, who knew how he winced -from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade myself -that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The matter passed, -however, and my father entered into possession of the estate, and -of some , pounds, which lay to his credit at the bank." -"One moment," Holmes interposed, "your statement is, I foresee, -one of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me -have the date of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and -the date of his supposed suicide." -"The letter arrived on March , . His death was seven weeks -later, upon the night of May nd." -"Thank you. Pray proceed." -"When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my -request, made a careful examination of the attic, which had been -always locked up. We found the brass box there, although its -contents had been destroyed. On the inside of the cover was a -paper label, with the initials of K. K. K. repeated upon it, and -'Letters, memoranda, receipts, and a register' written beneath. -These, we presume, indicated the nature of the papers which had -been destroyed by Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was -nothing of much importance in the attic save a great many -scattered papers and notebooks bearing upon my uncle's life in -America. Some of them were of the war time and showed that he had -done his duty well and had borne the repute of a brave soldier. -Others were of a date during the reconstruction of the Southern -states, and were mostly concerned with politics, for he had -evidently taken a strong part in opposing the carpetbag -politicians who had been sent down from the North. -"Well, it was the beginning of ' when my father came to live at -Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the -January of '. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my -father give a sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the -breakfasttable. There he was, sitting with a newly opened -envelope in one hand and five dried orange pips in the -outstretched palm of the other one. He had always laughed at what -he called my cockandbull story about the colonel, but he looked -very scared and puzzled now that the same thing had come upon -himself. -"'Why, what on earth does this mean, John?' he stammered. -"My heart had turned to lead. 'It is K. K. K.,' said I. -"He looked inside the envelope. 'So it is,' he cried. 'Here are -the very letters. But what is this written above them?' -"'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his -shoulder. -"'What papers? What sundial?' he asked. -"'The sundial in the garden. There is no other,' said I 'but the -papers must be those that are destroyed.' -"'Pooh' said he, gripping hard at his courage. 'We are in a -civilised land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind. -Where does the thing come from?' -"'From Dundee,' I answered, glancing at the postmark. -"'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he. 'What have I to do -with sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such -nonsense.' -"'I should certainly speak to the police,' I said. -"'And be laughed at for my pains. Nothing of the sort.' -"'Then let me do so?' -"'No, I forbid you. I won't have a fuss made about such -nonsense.' -"It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate -man. I went about, however, with a heart which was full of -forebodings. -"On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went -from home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is -in command of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad -that he should go, for it seemed to me that he was farther from -danger when he was away from home. In that, however, I was in -error. Upon the second day of his absence I received a telegram -from the major, imploring me to come at once. My father had -fallen over one of the deep chalkpits which abound in the -neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull. I -hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered -his consciousness. He had, as it appears, been returning from -Fareham in the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, -and the chalkpit unfenced, the jury had no hesitation in -bringing in a verdict of 'death from accidental causes.' -Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, I -was unable to find anything which could suggest the idea of -murder. There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no -robbery, no record of strangers having been seen upon the roads. -And yet I need not tell you that my mind was far from at ease, -and that I was wellnigh certain that some foul plot had been -woven round him. -"In this sinister way I came into my inheritance. You will ask me -why I did not dispose of it? I answer, because I was well -convinced that our troubles were in some way dependent upon an -incident in my uncle's life, and that the danger would be as -pressing in one house as in another. -"It was in January, ', that my poor father met his end, and two -years and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time -I have lived happily at Horsham, and I had begun to hope that -this curse had passed away from the family, and that it had ended -with the last generation. I had begun to take comfort too soon, -however yesterday morning the blow fell in the very shape in -which it had come upon my father." -The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, and -turning to the table he shook out upon it five little dried -orange pips. -"This is the envelope," he continued. "The postmark is -Londoneastern division. Within are the very words which were -upon my father's last message 'K. K. K.' and then 'Put the -papers on the sundial.'" -"What have you done?" asked Holmes. -"Nothing." -"Nothing?" -"To tell the truth"he sank his face into his thin, white -hands"I have felt helpless. I have felt like one of those poor -rabbits when the snake is writhing towards it. I seem to be in -the grasp of some resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight -and no precautions can guard against." -"Tut tut" cried Sherlock Holmes. "You must act, man, or you are -lost. Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for -despair." -"I have seen the police." -"Ah" -"But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that -the inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all -practical jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really -accidents, as the jury stated, and were not to be connected with -the warnings." -Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. "Incredible -imbecility" he cried. -"They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in -the house with me." -"Has he come with you tonight?" -"No. His orders were to stay in the house." -Again Holmes raved in the air. -"Why did you come to me," he cried, "and, above all, why did you -not come at once?" -"I did not know. It was only today that I spoke to Major -Prendergast about my troubles and was advised by him to come to -you." -"It is really two days since you had the letter. We should have -acted before this. You have no further evidence, I suppose, than -that which you have placed before usno suggestive detail which -might help us?" -"There is one thing," said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat -pocket, and, drawing out a piece of discoloured, bluetinted -paper, he laid it out upon the table. "I have some remembrance," -said he, "that on the day when my uncle burned the papers I -observed that the small, unburned margins which lay amid the -ashes were of this particular colour. I found this single sheet -upon the floor of his room, and I am inclined to think that it -may be one of the papers which has, perhaps, fluttered out from -among the others, and in that way has escaped destruction. Beyond -the mention of pips, I do not see that it helps us much. I think -myself that it is a page from some private diary. The writing is -undoubtedly my uncle's." -Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, -which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from -a book. It was headed, "March, ," and beneath were the -following enigmatical notices -"th. Hudson came. Same old platform. -"th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and -John Swain, of St. Augustine. -"th. McCauley cleared. -"th. John Swain cleared. -"th. Visited Paramore. All well." -"Thank you" said Holmes, folding up the paper and returning it -to our visitor. "And now you must on no account lose another -instant. We cannot spare time even to discuss what you have told -me. You must get home instantly and act." -"What shall I do?" -"There is but one thing to do. It must be done at once. You must -put this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass -box which you have described. You must also put in a note to say -that all the other papers were burned by your uncle, and that -this is the only one which remains. You must assert that in such -words as will carry conviction with them. Having done this, you -must at once put the box out upon the sundial, as directed. Do -you understand?" -"Entirely." -"Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present. I -think that we may gain that by means of the law but we have our -web to weave, while theirs is already woven. The first -consideration is to remove the pressing danger which threatens -you. The second is to clear up the mystery and to punish the -guilty parties." -"I thank you," said the young man, rising and pulling on his -overcoat. "You have given me fresh life and hope. I shall -certainly do as you advise." -"Do not lose an instant. And, above all, take care of yourself in -the meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that -you are threatened by a very real and imminent danger. How do you -go back?" -"By train from Waterloo." -"It is not yet nine. The streets will be crowded, so I trust that -you may be in safety. And yet you cannot guard yourself too -closely." -"I am armed." -"That is well. Tomorrow I shall set to work upon your case." -"I shall see you at Horsham, then?" -"No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek -it." -"Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news -as to the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every -particular." He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside -the wind still screamed and the rain splashed and pattered -against the windows. This strange, wild story seemed to have come -to us from amid the mad elementsblown in upon us like a sheet -of seaweed in a galeand now to have been reabsorbed by them -once more. -Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk -forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he -lit his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue -smokerings as they chased each other up to the ceiling. -"I think, Watson," he remarked at last, "that of all our cases we -have had none more fantastic than this." -"Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four." -"Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw seems -to me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the -Sholtos." -"But have you," I asked, "formed any definite conception as to -what these perils are?" -"There can be no question as to their nature," he answered. -"Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he pursue -this unhappy family?" -Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the -arms of his chair, with his fingertips together. "The ideal -reasoner," he remarked, "would, when he had once been shown a -single fact in all its bearings, deduce from it not only all the -chain of events which led up to it but also all the results which -would follow from it. As Cuvier could correctly describe a whole -animal by the contemplation of a single bone, so the observer who -has thoroughly understood one link in a series of incidents -should be able to accurately state all the other ones, both -before and after. We have not yet grasped the results which the -reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the study -which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by the -aid of their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest -pitch, it is necessary that the reasoner should be able to -utilise all the facts which have come to his knowledge and this -in itself implies, as you will readily see, a possession of all -knowledge, which, even in these days of free education and -encyclopaedias, is a somewhat rare accomplishment. It is not so -impossible, however, that a man should possess all knowledge -which is likely to be useful to him in his work, and this I have -endeavoured in my case to do. If I remember rightly, you on one -occasion, in the early days of our friendship, defined my limits -in a very precise fashion." -"Yes," I answered, laughing. "It was a singular document. -Philosophy, astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I -remember. Botany variable, geology profound as regards the -mudstains from any region within fifty miles of town, chemistry -eccentric, anatomy unsystematic, sensational literature and crime -records unique, violinplayer, boxer, swordsman, lawyer, and -selfpoisoner by cocaine and tobacco. Those, I think, were the -main points of my analysis." -Holmes grinned at the last item. "Well," he said, "I say now, as -I said then, that a man should keep his little brainattic -stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the -rest he can put away in the lumberroom of his library, where he -can get it if he wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which -has been submitted to us tonight, we need certainly to muster -all our resources. Kindly hand me down the letter K of the -'American Encyclopaedia' which stands upon the shelf beside you. -Thank you. Now let us consider the situation and see what may be -deduced from it. In the first place, we may start with a strong -presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some very strong reason for -leaving America. Men at his time of life do not change all their -habits and exchange willingly the charming climate of Florida for -the lonely life of an English provincial town. His extreme love -of solitude in England suggests the idea that he was in fear of -someone or something, so we may assume as a working hypothesis -that it was fear of someone or something which drove him from -America. As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce that by -considering the formidable letters which were received by himself -and his successors. Did you remark the postmarks of those -letters?" -"The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the -third from London." -"From East London. What do you deduce from that?" -"They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a ship." -"Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt that -the probabilitythe strong probabilityis that the writer was -on board of a ship. And now let us consider another point. In the -case of Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the threat and -its fulfilment, in Dundee it was only some three or four days. -Does that suggest anything?" -"A greater distance to travel." -"But the letter had also a greater distance to come." -"Then I do not see the point." -"There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the man -or men are is a sailingship. It looks as if they always send -their singular warning or token before them when starting upon -their mission. You see how quickly the deed followed the sign -when it came from Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry in a -steamer they would have arrived almost as soon as their letter. -But, as a matter of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that those -seven weeks represented the difference between the mailboat which -brought the letter and the sailing vessel which brought the -writer." -"It is possible." -"More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly -urgency of this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to -caution. The blow has always fallen at the end of the time which -it would take the senders to travel the distance. But this one -comes from London, and therefore we cannot count upon delay." -"Good God" I cried. "What can it mean, this relentless -persecution?" -"The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital -importance to the person or persons in the sailingship. I think -that it is quite clear that there must be more than one of them. -A single man could not have carried out two deaths in such a way -as to deceive a coroner's jury. There must have been several in -it, and they must have been men of resource and determination. -Their papers they mean to have, be the holder of them who it may. -In this way you see K. K. K. ceases to be the initials of an -individual and becomes the badge of a society." -"But of what society?" -"Have you never" said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and -sinking his voice"have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?" -"I never have." -Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee. "Here it -is," said he presently -"'Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to -the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret -society was formed by some exConfederate soldiers in the -Southern states after the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local -branches in different parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, -Louisiana, the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida. Its power was -used for political purposes, principally for the terrorising of -the negro voters and the murdering and driving from the country -of those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were usually -preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic -but generally recognised shapea sprig of oakleaves in some -parts, melon seeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this -the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, or might -fly from the country. If he braved the matter out, death would -unfailingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and -unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the -society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a -case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with -impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to the -perpetrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite -of the efforts of the United States government and of the better -classes of the community in the South. Eventually, in the year -, the movement rather suddenly collapsed, although there have -been sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.' -"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume, "that -the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the -disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may -well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and his -family have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track. -You can understand that this register and diary may implicate -some of the first men in the South, and that there may be many -who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered." -"Then the page we have seen" -"Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, 'sent -the pips to A, B, and C'that is, sent the society's warning to -them. Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or -left the country, and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a -sinister result for C. Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let -some light into this dark place, and I believe that the only -chance young Openshaw has in the meantime is to do what I have -told him. There is nothing more to be said or to be done -tonight, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for -half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable -ways of our fellowmen." -It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a -subdued brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the -great city. Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I came -down. -"You will excuse me for not waiting for you," said he "I have, I -foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this case of -young Openshaw's." -"What steps will you take?" I asked. -"It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquiries. -I may have to go down to Horsham, after all." -"You will not go there first?" -"No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and the -maid will bring up your coffee." -As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and -glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a -chill to my heart. -"Holmes," I cried, "you are too late." -"Ah" said he, laying down his cup, "I feared as much. How was it -done?" He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved. -"My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading 'Tragedy -Near Waterloo Bridge.' Here is the account -"Between nine and ten last night PoliceConstable Cook, of the H -Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and -a splash in the water. The night, however, was extremely dark and -stormy, so that, in spite of the help of several passersby, it -was quite impossible to effect a rescue. The alarm, however, was -given, and, by the aid of the waterpolice, the body was -eventually recovered. It proved to be that of a young gentleman -whose name, as it appears from an envelope which was found in his -pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham. -It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to catch -the last train from Waterloo Station, and that in his haste and -the extreme darkness he missed his path and walked over the edge -of one of the small landingplaces for river steamboats. The body -exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt that -the deceased had been the victim of an unfortunate accident, -which should have the effect of calling the attention of the -authorities to the condition of the riverside landingstages." -We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and -shaken than I had ever seen him. -"That hurts my pride, Watson," he said at last. "It is a petty -feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal -matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my -hand upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and that -I should send him away to his death" He sprang from his chair -and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a -flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and -unclasping of his long thin hands. -"They must be cunning devils," he exclaimed at last. "How could -they have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is not on the -direct line to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was too -crowded, even on such a night, for their purpose. Well, Watson, -we shall see who will win in the long run. I am going out now" -"To the police?" -"No I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may -take the flies, but not before." -All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in -the evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes -had not come back yet. It was nearly ten o'clock before he -entered, looking pale and worn. He walked up to the sideboard, -and tearing a piece from the loaf he devoured it voraciously, -washing it down with a long draught of water. -"You are hungry," I remarked. -"Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since -breakfast." -"Nothing?" -"Not a bite. I had no time to think of it." -"And how have you succeeded?" -"Well." -"You have a clue?" -"I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not -long remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish -trademark upon them. It is well thought of" -"What do you mean?" -He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he -squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and -thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote -"S. H. for J. O." Then he sealed it and addressed it to "Captain -James Calhoun, Barque 'Lone Star,' Savannah, Georgia." -"That will await him when he enters port," said he, chuckling. -"It may give him a sleepless night. He will find it as sure a -precursor of his fate as Openshaw did before him." -"And who is this Captain Calhoun?" -"The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, but he first." -"How did you trace it, then?" -He took a large sheet of paper from his pocket, all covered with -dates and names. -"I have spent the whole day," said he, "over Lloyd's registers -and files of the old papers, following the future career of every -vessel which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in -'. There were thirtysix ships of fair tonnage which were -reported there during those months. Of these, one, the 'Lone Star,' -instantly attracted my attention, since, although it was reported -as having cleared from London, the name is that which is given to -one of the states of the Union." -"Texas, I think." -"I was not and am not sure which but I knew that the ship must -have an American origin." -"What then?" -"I searched the Dundee records, and when I found that the barque -'Lone Star' was there in January, ', my suspicion became a -certainty. I then inquired as to the vessels which lay at present -in the port of London." -"Yes?" -"The 'Lone Star' had arrived here last week. I went down to the -Albert Dock and found that she had been taken down the river by -the early tide this morning, homeward bound to Savannah. I wired -to Gravesend and learned that she had passed some time ago, and -as the wind is easterly I have no doubt that she is now past the -Goodwins and not very far from the Isle of Wight." -"What will you do, then?" -"Oh, I have my hand upon him. He and the two mates, are as I -learn, the only nativeborn Americans in the ship. The others are -Finns and Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away -from the ship last night. I had it from the stevedore who has -been loading their cargo. By the time that their sailingship -reaches Savannah the mailboat will have carried this letter, and -the cable will have informed the police of Savannah that these -three gentlemen are badly wanted here upon a charge of murder." -There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of human plans, -and the murderers of John Openshaw were never to receive the -orange pips which would show them that another, as cunning and as -resolute as themselves, was upon their track. Very long and very -severe were the equinoctial gales that year. We waited long for -news of the "Lone Star" of Savannah, but none ever reached us. We -did at last hear that somewhere far out in the Atlantic a -shattered sternpost of a boat was seen swinging in the trough -of a wave, with the letters "L. S." carved upon it, and that is -all which we shall ever know of the fate of the "Lone Star." -ADVENTURE VI. THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP -Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal -of the Theological College of St. George's, was much addicted to -opium. The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some -foolish freak when he was at college for having read De -Quincey's description of his dreams and sensations, he had -drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the -same effects. He found, as so many more have done, that the -practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many -years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of -mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see -him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pinpoint -pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble -man. -One nightit was in June, 'there came a ring to my bell, -about the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the -clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needlework -down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment. -"A patient" said she. "You'll have to go out." -I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day. -We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps -upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in -some darkcoloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room. -"You will excuse my calling so late," she began, and then, -suddenly losing her selfcontrol, she ran forward, threw her arms -about my wife's neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I'm in -such trouble" she cried "I do so want a little help." -"Why," said my wife, pulling up her veil, "it is Kate Whitney. -How you startled me, Kate I had not an idea who you were when -you came in." -"I didn't know what to do, so I came straight to you." That was -always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds -to a lighthouse. -"It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine -and water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or -should you rather that I sent James off to bed?" -"Oh, no, no I want the doctor's advice and help, too. It's about -Isa. He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about -him" -It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her -husband's trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend -and school companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words -as we could find. Did she know where her husband was? Was it -possible that we could bring him back to her? -It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late -he had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the -farthest east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been -confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and -shattered, in the evening. But now the spell had been upon him -eightandforty hours, and he lay there, doubtless among the -dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison or sleeping off the -effects. There he was to be found, she was sure of it, at the Bar -of Gold, in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? How could -she, a young and timid woman, make her way into such a place and -pluck her husband out from among the ruffians who surrounded him? -There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of -it. Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second -thought, why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney's medical -adviser, and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it -better if I were alone. I promised her on my word that I would -send him home in a cab within two hours if he were indeed at the -address which she had given me. And so in ten minutes I had left -my armchair and cheery sittingroom behind me, and was speeding -eastward in a hansom on a strange errand, as it seemed to me at -the time, though the future only could show how strange it was to -be. -But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my -adventure. Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the -high wharves which line the north side of the river to the east -of London Bridge. Between a slopshop and a ginshop, approached -by a steep flight of steps leading down to a black gap like the -mouth of a cave, I found the den of which I was in search. -Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down the steps, worn hollow in -the centre by the ceaseless tread of drunken feet and by the -light of a flickering oillamp above the door I found the latch -and made my way into a long, low room, thick and heavy with the -brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the -forecastle of an emigrant ship. -Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying -in strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads -thrown back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a -dark, lacklustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black -shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, -now faint, as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of -the metal pipes. The most lay silent, but some muttered to -themselves, and others talked together in a strange, low, -monotonous voice, their conversation coming in gushes, and then -suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling out his own -thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his neighbour. At -the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside -which on a threelegged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old -man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon -his knees, staring into the fire. -As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe -for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth. -"Thank you. I have not come to stay," said I. "There is a friend -of mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him." -There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and -peering through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and -unkempt, staring out at me. -"My God It's Watson," said he. He was in a pitiable state of -reaction, with every nerve in a twitter. "I say, Watson, what -o'clock is it?" -"Nearly eleven." -"Of what day?" -"Of Friday, June th." -"Good heavens I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What -d'you want to frighten a chap for?" He sank his face onto his -arms and began to sob in a high treble key. -"I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting -this two days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself" -"So I am. But you've got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here -a few hours, three pipes, four pipesI forget how many. But I'll -go home with you. I wouldn't frighten Katepoor little Kate. -Give me your hand Have you a cab?" -"Yes, I have one waiting." -"Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I -owe, Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself." -I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of -sleepers, holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying -fumes of the drug, and looking about for the manager. As I passed -the tall man who sat by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my -skirt, and a low voice whispered, "Walk past me, and then look -back at me." The words fell quite distinctly upon my ear. I -glanced down. They could only have come from the old man at my -side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, very thin, very -wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down from between -his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer lassitude from his -fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. It took all my -selfcontrol to prevent me from breaking out into a cry of -astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see him -but I. His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull -eyes had regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and -grinning at my surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He -made a slight motion to me to approach him, and instantly, as he -turned his face half round to the company once more, subsided -into a doddering, looselipped senility. -"Holmes" I whispered, "what on earth are you doing in this den?" -"As low as you can," he answered "I have excellent ears. If you -would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend -of yours I should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with -you." -"I have a cab outside." -"Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he -appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should -recommend you also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to -say that you have thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait -outside, I shall be with you in five minutes." -It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes' requests, for -they were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with -such a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney -was once confined in the cab my mission was practically -accomplished and for the rest, I could not wish anything better -than to be associated with my friend in one of those singular -adventures which were the normal condition of his existence. In a -few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney's bill, led him -out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a -very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, -and I was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two -streets he shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. -Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and -burst into a hearty fit of laughter. -"I suppose, Watson," said he, "that you imagine that I have added -opiumsmoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little -weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical -views." -"I was certainly surprised to find you there." -"But not more so than I to find you." -"I came to find a friend." -"And I to find an enemy." -"An enemy?" -"Yes one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural -prey. Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable -inquiry, and I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent -ramblings of these sots, as I have done before now. Had I been -recognised in that den my life would not have been worth an -hour's purchase for I have used it before now for my own -purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have -vengeance upon me. There is a trapdoor at the back of that -building, near the corner of Paul's Wharf, which could tell some -strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless -nights." -"What You do not mean bodies?" -"Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had pounds -for every poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It -is the vilest murdertrap on the whole riverside, and I fear that -Neville St. Clair has entered it never to leave it more. But our -trap should be here." He put his two forefingers between his -teeth and whistled shrillya signal which was answered by a -similar whistle from the distance, followed shortly by the rattle -of wheels and the clink of horses' hoofs. -"Now, Watson," said Holmes, as a tall dogcart dashed up through -the gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from -its side lanterns. "You'll come with me, won't you?" -"If I can be of use." -"Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use and a chronicler still -more so. My room at The Cedars is a doublebedded one." -"The Cedars?" -"Yes that is Mr. St. Clair's house. I am staying there while I -conduct the inquiry." -"Where is it, then?" -"Near Lee, in Kent. We have a sevenmile drive before us." -"But I am all in the dark." -"Of course you are. You'll know all about it presently. Jump up -here. All right, John we shall not need you. Here's half a -crown. Look out for me tomorrow, about eleven. Give her her -head. So long, then" -He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through -the endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which -widened gradually, until we were flying across a broad -balustraded bridge, with the murky river flowing sluggishly -beneath us. Beyond lay another dull wilderness of bricks and -mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, regular footfall of -the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of -revellers. A dull wrack was drifting slowly across the sky, and a -star or two twinkled dimly here and there through the rifts of -the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with his head sunk upon his -breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, while I sat -beside him, curious to learn what this new quest might be which -seemed to tax his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to break in -upon the current of his thoughts. We had driven several miles, -and were beginning to get to the fringe of the belt of suburban -villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoulders, and lit up -his pipe with the air of a man who has satisfied himself that he -is acting for the best. -"You have a grand gift of silence, Watson," said he. "It makes -you quite invaluable as a companion. 'Pon my word, it is a great -thing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are -not overpleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear -little woman tonight when she meets me at the door." -"You forget that I know nothing about it." -"I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before -we get to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can -get nothing to go upon. There's plenty of thread, no doubt, but I -can't get the end of it into my hand. Now, I'll state the case -clearly and concisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a -spark where all is dark to me." -"Proceed, then." -"Some years agoto be definite, in May, there came to Lee -a gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have -plenty of money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very -nicely, and lived generally in good style. By degrees he made -friends in the neighbourhood, and in he married the daughter -of a local brewer, by whom he now has two children. He had no -occupation, but was interested in several companies and went into -town as a rule in the morning, returning by the from Cannon -Street every night. Mr. St. Clair is now thirtyseven years of -age, is a man of temperate habits, a good husband, a very -affectionate father, and a man who is popular with all who know -him. I may add that his whole debts at the present moment, as far -as we have been able to ascertain, amount to pounds s., while -he has pounds standing to his credit in the Capital and -Counties Bank. There is no reason, therefore, to think that money -troubles have been weighing upon his mind. -"Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier -than usual, remarking before he started that he had two important -commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy -home a box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife -received a telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly after his -departure, to the effect that a small parcel of considerable -value which she had been expecting was waiting for her at the -offices of the Aberdeen Shipping Company. Now, if you are well up -in your London, you will know that the office of the company is -in Fresno Street, which branches out of Upper Swandam Lane, where -you found me tonight. Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch, started for -the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company's office, -got her packet, and found herself at exactly walking through -Swandam Lane on her way back to the station. Have you followed me -so far?" -"It is very clear." -"If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. -Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, -as she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself. -While she was walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly -heard an ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her -husband looking down at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning -to her from a secondfloor window. The window was open, and she -distinctly saw his face, which she describes as being terribly -agitated. He waved his hands frantically to her, and then -vanished from the window so suddenly that it seemed to her that -he had been plucked back by some irresistible force from behind. -One singular point which struck her quick feminine eye was that -although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town -in, he had on neither collar nor necktie. -"Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the -stepsfor the house was none other than the opium den in which -you found me tonightand running through the front room she -attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At -the foot of the stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of -whom I have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who -acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. Filled -with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the -lane and, by rare goodfortune, met in Fresno Street a number of -constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. The -inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the -continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to -the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no -sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was -no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who, -it seems, made his home there. Both he and the Lascar stoutly -swore that no one else had been in the front room during the -afternoon. So determined was their denial that the inspector was -staggered, and had almost come to believe that Mrs. St. Clair had -been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box -which lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. Out there fell -a cascade of children's bricks. It was the toy which he had -promised to bring home. -"This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple -showed, made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. -The rooms were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an -abominable crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a -sittingroom and led into a small bedroom, which looked out upon -the back of one of the wharves. Between the wharf and the bedroom -window is a narrow strip, which is dry at low tide but is covered -at high tide with at least four and a half feet of water. The -bedroom window was a broad one and opened from below. On -examination traces of blood were to be seen upon the windowsill, -and several scattered drops were visible upon the wooden floor of -the bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the front room were -all the clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the exception of -his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, and his watchall were -there. There were no signs of violence upon any of these -garments, and there were no other traces of Mr. Neville St. -Clair. Out of the window he must apparently have gone for no -other exit could be discovered, and the ominous bloodstains upon -the sill gave little promise that he could save himself by -swimming, for the tide was at its very highest at the moment of -the tragedy. -"And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately -implicated in the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the -vilest antecedents, but as, by Mrs. St. Clair's story, he was -known to have been at the foot of the stair within a very few -seconds of her husband's appearance at the window, he could -hardly have been more than an accessory to the crime. His defence -was one of absolute ignorance, and he protested that he had no -knowledge as to the doings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he -could not account in any way for the presence of the missing -gentleman's clothes. -"So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who -lives upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was -certainly the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. -Clair. His name is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which -is familiar to every man who goes much to the City. He is a -professional beggar, though in order to avoid the police -regulations he pretends to a small trade in wax vestas. Some -little distance down Threadneedle Street, upon the lefthand -side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in the -wall. Here it is that this creature takes his daily seat, -crosslegged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, and as he -is a piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends into the -greasy leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. I -have watched the fellow more than once before ever I thought of -making his professional acquaintance, and I have been surprised -at the harvest which he has reaped in a short time. His -appearance, you see, is so remarkable that no one can pass him -without observing him. A shock of orange hair, a pale face -disfigured by a horrible scar, which, by its contraction, has -turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a -pair of very penetrating dark eyes, which present a singular -contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him out from amid -the common crowd of mendicants and so, too, does his wit, for he -is ever ready with a reply to any piece of chaff which may be -thrown at him by the passersby. This is the man whom we now -learn to have been the lodger at the opium den, and to have been -the last man to see the gentleman of whom we are in quest." -"But a cripple" said I. "What could he have done singlehanded -against a man in the prime of life?" -"He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp but in -other respects he appears to be a powerful and wellnurtured man. -Surely your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that -weakness in one limb is often compensated for by exceptional -strength in the others." -"Pray continue your narrative." -"Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the -window, and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her -presence could be of no help to them in their investigations. -Inspector Barton, who had charge of the case, made a very careful -examination of the premises, but without finding anything which -threw any light upon the matter. One mistake had been made in not -arresting Boone instantly, as he was allowed some few minutes -during which he might have communicated with his friend the -Lascar, but this fault was soon remedied, and he was seized and -searched, without anything being found which could incriminate -him. There were, it is true, some bloodstains upon his right -shirtsleeve, but he pointed to his ringfinger, which had been -cut near the nail, and explained that the bleeding came from -there, adding that he had been to the window not long before, and -that the stains which had been observed there came doubtless from -the same source. He denied strenuously having ever seen Mr. -Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes in -his room was as much a mystery to him as to the police. As to -Mrs. St. Clair's assertion that she had actually seen her husband -at the window, he declared that she must have been either mad or -dreaming. He was removed, loudly protesting, to the -policestation, while the inspector remained upon the premises in -the hope that the ebbing tide might afford some fresh clue. -"And it did, though they hardly found upon the mudbank what they -had feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair's coat, and not -Neville St. Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And -what do you think they found in the pockets?" -"I cannot imagine." -"No, I don't think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with -pennies and halfpennies pennies and halfpennies. It -was no wonder that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a -human body is a different matter. There is a fierce eddy between -the wharf and the house. It seemed likely enough that the -weighted coat had remained when the stripped body had been sucked -away into the river." -"But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the -room. Would the body be dressed in a coat alone?" -"No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose -that this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the -window, there is no human eye which could have seen the deed. -What would he do then? It would of course instantly strike him -that he must get rid of the telltale garments. He would seize -the coat, then, and be in the act of throwing it out, when it -would occur to him that it would swim and not sink. He has little -time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when the wife tried -to force her way up, and perhaps he has already heard from his -Lascar confederate that the police are hurrying up the street. -There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes to some secret -hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he -stuffs all the coins upon which he can lay his hands into the -pockets to make sure of the coat's sinking. He throws it out, and -would have done the same with the other garments had not he heard -the rush of steps below, and only just had time to close the -window when the police appeared." -"It certainly sounds feasible." -"Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a -better. Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the -station, but it could not be shown that there had ever before -been anything against him. He had for years been known as a -professional beggar, but his life appeared to have been a very -quiet and innocent one. There the matter stands at present, and -the questions which have to be solvedwhat Neville St. Clair was -doing in the opium den, what happened to him when there, where is -he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with his disappearanceare -all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that I cannot -recall any case within my experience which looked at the first -glance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties." -While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of -events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great -town until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and -we rattled along with a country hedge upon either side of us. -Just as he finished, however, we drove through two scattered -villages, where a few lights still glimmered in the windows. -"We are on the outskirts of Lee," said my companion. "We have -touched on three English counties in our short drive, starting in -Middlesex, passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent. -See that light among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside -that lamp sits a woman whose anxious ears have already, I have -little doubt, caught the clink of our horse's feet." -"But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street?" I -asked. -"Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here. -Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and -you may rest assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for -my friend and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have -no news of her husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa" -We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its -own grounds. A stableboy had run out to the horse's head, and -springing down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding -graveldrive which led to the house. As we approached, the door -flew open, and a little blonde woman stood in the opening, clad -in some sort of light mousseline de soie, with a touch of fluffy -pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. She stood with her figure -outlined against the flood of light, one hand upon the door, one -halfraised in her eagerness, her body slightly bent, her head -and face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a standing -question. -"Well?" she cried, "well?" And then, seeing that there were two -of us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw -that my companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. -"No good news?" -"None." -"No bad?" -"No." -"Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have -had a long day." -"This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to -me in several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it -possible for me to bring him out and associate him with this -investigation." -"I am delighted to see you," said she, pressing my hand warmly. -"You will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our -arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so -suddenly upon us." -"My dear madam," said I, "I am an old campaigner, and if I were -not I can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of -any assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be -indeed happy." -"Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said the lady as we entered a -welllit diningroom, upon the table of which a cold supper had -been laid out, "I should very much like to ask you one or two -plain questions, to which I beg that you will give a plain -answer." -"Certainly, madam." -"Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given -to fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion." -"Upon what point?" -"In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?" -Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. -"Frankly, now" she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking -keenly down at him as he leaned back in a basketchair. -"Frankly, then, madam, I do not." -"You think that he is dead?" -"I do." -"Murdered?" -"I don't say that. Perhaps." -"And on what day did he meet his death?" -"On Monday." -"Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how -it is that I have received a letter from him today." -Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been -galvanised. -"What" he roared. -"Yes, today." She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of -paper in the air. -"May I see it?" -"Certainly." -He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out -upon the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I -had left my chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The -envelope was a very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend -postmark and with the date of that very day, or rather of the day -before, for it was considerably after midnight. -"Coarse writing," murmured Holmes. "Surely this is not your -husband's writing, madam." -"No, but the enclosure is." -"I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go -and inquire as to the address." -"How can you tell that?" -"The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried -itself. The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that -blottingpaper has been used. If it had been written straight -off, and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. This -man has written the name, and there has then been a pause before -he wrote the address, which can only mean that he was not -familiar with it. It is, of course, a trifle, but there is -nothing so important as trifles. Let us now see the letter. Ha -there has been an enclosure here" -"Yes, there was a ring. His signetring." -"And you are sure that this is your husband's hand?" -"One of his hands." -"One?" -"His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual -writing, and yet I know it well." -"'Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a -huge error which it may take some little time to rectify. -Wait in patience.NEVILLE.' Written in pencil upon the flyleaf -of a book, octavo size, no watermark. Hum Posted today in -Gravesend by a man with a dirty thumb. Ha And the flap has been -gummed, if I am not very much in error, by a person who had been -chewing tobacco. And you have no doubt that it is your husband's -hand, madam?" -"None. Neville wrote those words." -"And they were posted today at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair, -the clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the -danger is over." -"But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes." -"Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. -The ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from -him." -"No, no it is, it is his very own writing" -"Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only -posted today." -"That is possible." -"If so, much may have happened between." -"Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is -well with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I -should know if evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him -last he cut himself in the bedroom, and yet I in the diningroom -rushed upstairs instantly with the utmost certainty that -something had happened. Do you think that I would respond to such -a trifle and yet be ignorant of his death?" -"I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman -may be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical -reasoner. And in this letter you certainly have a very strong -piece of evidence to corroborate your view. But if your husband -is alive and able to write letters, why should he remain away -from you?" -"I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable." -"And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you?" -"No." -"And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?" -"Very much so." -"Was the window open?" -"Yes." -"Then he might have called to you?" -"He might." -"He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?" -"Yes." -"A call for help, you thought?" -"Yes. He waved his hands." -"But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the -unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands?" -"It is possible." -"And you thought he was pulled back?" -"He disappeared so suddenly." -"He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the -room?" -"No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and -the Lascar was at the foot of the stairs." -"Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his -ordinary clothes on?" -"But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare -throat." -"Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?" -"Never." -"Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?" -"Never." -"Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about -which I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little -supper and then retire, for we may have a very busy day -tomorrow." -A large and comfortable doublebedded room had been placed at our -disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary -after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, -who, when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for -days, and even for a week, without rest, turning it over, -rearranging his facts, looking at it from every point of view -until he had either fathomed it or convinced himself that his -data were insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now -preparing for an allnight sitting. He took off his coat and -waistcoat, put on a large blue dressinggown, and then wandered -about the room collecting pillows from his bed and cushions from -the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of -Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself crosslegged, with -an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front -of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an -old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the -corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, -silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strongset -aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he -sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found -the summer sun shining into the apartment. The pipe was still -between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was -full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of -shag which I had seen upon the previous night. -"Awake, Watson?" he asked. -"Yes." -"Game for a morning drive?" -"Certainly." -"Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the -stableboy sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out." He -chuckled to himself as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed -a different man to the sombre thinker of the previous night. -As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one -was stirring. It was twentyfive minutes past four. I had hardly -finished when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was -putting in the horse. -"I want to test a little theory of mine," said he, pulling on his -boots. "I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the -presence of one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve -to be kicked from here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the -key of the affair now." -"And where is it?" I asked, smiling. -"In the bathroom," he answered. "Oh, yes, I am not joking," he -continued, seeing my look of incredulity. "I have just been -there, and I have taken it out, and I have got it in this -Gladstone bag. Come on, my boy, and we shall see whether it will -not fit the lock." -We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into -the bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and -trap, with the halfclad stableboy waiting at the head. We both -sprang in, and away we dashed down the London Road. A few country -carts were stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but -the lines of villas on either side were as silent and lifeless as -some city in a dream. -"It has been in some points a singular case," said Holmes, -flicking the horse on into a gallop. "I confess that I have been -as blind as a mole, but it is better to learn wisdom late than -never to learn it at all." -In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily -from their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey -side. Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the -river, and dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the -right and found ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well -known to the force, and the two constables at the door saluted -him. One of them held the horse's head while the other led us in. -"Who is on duty?" asked Holmes. -"Inspector Bradstreet, sir." -"Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?" A tall, stout official had come -down the stoneflagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged -jacket. "I wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet." -"Certainly, Mr. Holmes. Step into my room here." It was a small, -officelike room, with a huge ledger upon the table, and a -telephone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat down at his -desk. -"What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?" -"I called about that beggarman, Boonethe one who was charged -with being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. -Clair, of Lee." -"Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries." -"So I heard. You have him here?" -"In the cells." -"Is he quiet?" -"Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel." -"Dirty?" -"Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his -face is as black as a tinker's. Well, when once his case has been -settled, he will have a regular prison bath and I think, if you -saw him, you would agree with me that he needed it." -"I should like to see him very much." -"Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave -your bag." -"No, I think that I'll take it." -"Very good. Come this way, if you please." He led us down a -passage, opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and -brought us to a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each -side. -"The third on the right is his," said the inspector. "Here it -is" He quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door -and glanced through. -"He is asleep," said he. "You can see him very well." -We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his -face towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and -heavily. He was a middlesized man, coarsely clad as became his -calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his -tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, extremely -dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its -repulsive ugliness. A broad wheal from an old scar ran right -across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up -one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a -perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red hair grew low over -his eyes and forehead. -"He's a beauty, isn't he?" said the inspector. -"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes. "I had an idea that -he might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me." -He opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my -astonishment, a very large bathsponge. -"He he You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector. -"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very -quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable -figure." -"Well, I don't know why not," said the inspector. "He doesn't -look a credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?" He slipped his -key into the lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The -sleeper half turned, and then settled down once more into a deep -slumber. Holmes stooped to the waterjug, moistened his sponge, -and then rubbed it twice vigorously across and down the -prisoner's face. -"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of -Lee, in the county of Kent." -Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man's face peeled -off under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the -coarse brown tint Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had -seamed it across, and the twisted lip which had given the -repulsive sneer to the face A twitch brought away the tangled -red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was a pale, -sadfaced, refinedlooking man, blackhaired and smoothskinned, -rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy bewilderment. -Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and -threw himself down with his face to the pillow. -"Great heavens" cried the inspector, "it is, indeed, the missing -man. I know him from the photograph." -The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons -himself to his destiny. "Be it so," said he. "And pray what am I -charged with?" -"With making away with Mr. Neville St. Oh, come, you can't be -charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of -it," said the inspector with a grin. "Well, I have been -twentyseven years in the force, but this really takes the cake." -"If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime -has been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally -detained." -"No crime, but a very great error has been committed," said -Holmes. "You would have done better to have trusted you wife." -"It was not the wife it was the children," groaned the prisoner. -"God help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My -God What an exposure What can I do?" -Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him -kindly on the shoulder. -"If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up," said -he, "of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand, -if you convince the police authorities that there is no possible -case against you, I do not know that there is any reason that the -details should find their way into the papers. Inspector -Bradstreet would, I am sure, make notes upon anything which you -might tell us and submit it to the proper authorities. The case -would then never go into court at all." -"God bless you" cried the prisoner passionately. "I would have -endured imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left -my miserable secret as a family blot to my children. -"You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a -schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent -education. I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and -finally became a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day -my editor wished to have a series of articles upon begging in the -metropolis, and I volunteered to supply them. There was the point -from which all my adventures started. It was only by trying -begging as an amateur that I could get the facts upon which to -base my articles. When an actor I had, of course, learned all the -secrets of making up, and had been famous in the greenroom for -my skill. I took advantage now of my attainments. I painted my -face, and to make myself as pitiable as possible I made a good -scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a -small slip of fleshcoloured plaster. Then with a red head of -hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the business -part of the city, ostensibly as a matchseller but really as a -beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned -home in the evening I found to my surprise that I had received no -less than s. d. -"I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until, -some time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ -served upon me for pounds. I was at my wit's end where to get -the money, but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight's -grace from the creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers, -and spent the time in begging in the City under my disguise. In -ten days I had the money and had paid the debt. -"Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous -work at pounds a week when I knew that I could earn as much in -a day by smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on -the ground, and sitting still. It was a long fight between my -pride and the money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up -reporting and sat day after day in the corner which I had first -chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly face and filling my pockets -with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeper of a -low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could -every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in the evenings -transform myself into a welldressed man about town. This fellow, -a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that -my secret was safe in his possession. -"Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of -money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London -could earn pounds a yearwhich is less than my average -takingsbut I had exceptional advantages in my power of making -up, and also in a facility of repartee, which improved by -practice and made me quite a recognised character in the City. -All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver, poured in upon me, -and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take pounds. -"As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the -country, and eventually married, without anyone having a -suspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had -business in the City. She little knew what. -"Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my -room above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw, -to my horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the -street, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of -surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my -confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent anyone from -coming up to me. I heard her voice downstairs, but I knew that -she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on -those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife's -eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it -occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and that -the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening -by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in -the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was -weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from -the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of -the window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes -would have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of -constables up the stair, and a few minutes after I found, rather, -I confess, to my relief, that instead of being identified as Mr. -Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his murderer. -"I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I -was determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and -hence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would -be terribly anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the -Lascar at a moment when no constable was watching me, together -with a hurried scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to -fear." -"That note only reached her yesterday," said Holmes. -"Good God What a week she must have spent" -"The police have watched this Lascar," said Inspector Bradstreet, -"and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to -post a letter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor -customer of his, who forgot all about it for some days." -"That was it," said Holmes, nodding approvingly "I have no doubt -of it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging?" -"Many times but what was a fine to me?" -"It must stop here, however," said Bradstreet. "If the police are -to hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone." -"I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take." -"In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps -may be taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out. -I am sure, Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for -having cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your -results." -"I reached this one," said my friend, "by sitting upon five -pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if -we drive to Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast." -VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE -I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second -morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the -compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a -purple dressinggown, a piperack within his reach upon the -right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly -studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and -on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable -hardfelt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several -places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair -suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the -purpose of examination. -"You are engaged," said I "perhaps I interrupt you." -"Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss -my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one"he jerked his -thumb in the direction of the old hat"but there are points in -connection with it which are not entirely devoid of interest and -even of instruction." -I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his -crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows -were thick with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked, "that, -homely as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to -itthat it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of -some mystery and the punishment of some crime." -"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of -those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have -four million human beings all jostling each other within the -space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so -dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events -may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be -presented which may be striking and bizarre without being -criminal. We have already had experience of such." -"So much so," I remarked, "that of the last six cases which I -have added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any -legal crime." -"Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler -papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the -adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt -that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. -You know Peterson, the commissionaire?" -"Yes." -"It is to him that this trophy belongs." -"It is his hat." -"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will -look upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual -problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon -Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I -have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson's -fire. The facts are these about four o'clock on Christmas -morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was -returning from some small jollification and was making his way -homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in -the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and -carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the -corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger -and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the -man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, -swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. -Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his -assailants but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and -seeing an officiallooking person in uniform rushing towards him, -dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the -labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham -Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of -Peterson, so that he was left in possession of the field of -battle, and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this -battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christmas goose." -"Which surely he restored to their owner?" -"My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that 'For -Mrs. Henry Baker' was printed upon a small card which was tied to -the bird's left leg, and it is also true that the initials 'H. -B.' are legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are -some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in -this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any -one of them." -"What, then, did Peterson do?" -"He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, -knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. -The goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs -that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it -should be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried -it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, -while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who -lost his Christmas dinner." -"Did he not advertise?" -"No." -"Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?" -"Only as much as we can deduce." -"From his hat?" -"Precisely." -"But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered -felt?" -"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather -yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this -article?" -I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather -ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round -shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of -red silk, but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker's -name but, as Holmes had remarked, the initials "H. B." were -scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a -hatsecurer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was -cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, -although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the -discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. -"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend. -"On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, -however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in -drawing your inferences." -"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?" -He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective -fashion which was characteristic of him. "It is perhaps less -suggestive than it might have been," he remarked, "and yet there -are a few inferences which are very distinct, and a few others -which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That -the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the -face of it, and also that he was fairly welltodo within the -last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He -had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a -moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his -fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, -at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that -his wife has ceased to love him." -"My dear Holmes" -"He has, however, retained some degree of selfrespect," he -continued, disregarding my remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a -sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is -middleaged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the -last few days, and which he anoints with limecream. These are -the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, -by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid -on in his house." -"You are certainly joking, Holmes." -"Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you -these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?" -"I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I -am unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that -this man was intellectual?" -For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right -over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is -a question of cubic capacity," said he "a man with so large a -brain must have something in it." -"The decline of his fortunes, then?" -"This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge -came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the -band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could -afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no -hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world." -"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the -foresight and the moral retrogression?" -Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the foresight," said he putting -his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hatsecurer. -"They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a -sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his -way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see -that he has broken the elastic and has not troubled to replace -it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, -which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other -hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some of these stains upon the -felt by daubing them with ink, which is a sign that he has not -entirely lost his selfrespect." -"Your reasoning is certainly plausible." -"The further points, that he is middleaged, that his hair is -grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses -limecream, are all to be gathered from a close examination of the -lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of -hairends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all -appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct odour of -limecream. This dust, you will observe, is not the gritty, grey -dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, -showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time, while -the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the -wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be in -the best of training." -"But his wifeyou said that she had ceased to love him." -"This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear -Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and -when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear -that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's -affection." -"But he might be a bachelor." -"Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peaceoffering to his -wife. Remember the card upon the bird's leg." -"You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce -that the gas is not laid on in his house?" -"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance but when I -see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt -that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with -burning tallowwalks upstairs at night probably with his hat in -one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never -got tallowstains from a gasjet. Are you satisfied?" -"Well, it is very ingenious," said I, laughing "but since, as -you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm -done save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a -waste of energy." -Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew -open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment -with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with -astonishment. -"The goose, Mr. Holmes The goose, sir" he gasped. -"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off -through the kitchen window?" Holmes twisted himself round upon -the sofa to get a fairer view of the man's excited face. -"See here, sir See what my wife found in its crop" He held out -his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly -scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but -of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric -point in the dark hollow of his hand. -Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. "By Jove, Peterson" said -he, "this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you -have got?" -"A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though -it were putty." -"It's more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone." -"Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle" I ejaculated. -"Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I -have read the advertisement about it in The Times every day -lately. It is absolutely unique, and its value can only be -conjectured, but the reward offered of pounds is certainly -not within a twentieth part of the market price." -"A thousand pounds Great Lord of mercy" The commissionaire -plumped down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us. -"That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are -sentimental considerations in the background which would induce -the Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but -recover the gem." -"It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan," I -remarked. -"Precisely so, on December nd, just five days ago. John Horner, -a plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the lady's -jewelcase. The evidence against him was so strong that the case -has been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the -matter here, I believe." He rummaged amid his newspapers, -glancing over the dates, until at last he smoothed one out, -doubled it over, and read the following paragraph -"Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, , plumber, was -brought up upon the charge of having upon the nd inst., -abstracted from the jewelcase of the Countess of Morcar the -valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, -upperattendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect -that he had shown Horner up to the dressingroom of the Countess -of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might -solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had -remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been -called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, -that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco -casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was -accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the -dressingtable. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was -arrested the same evening but the stone could not be found -either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to -the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay on -discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, -where she found matters as described by the last witness. -Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest -of Horner, who struggled frantically, and protested his innocence -in the strongest terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for -robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate -refused to deal summarily with the offence, but referred it to -the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion -during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was -carried out of court." -"Hum So much for the policecourt," said Holmes thoughtfully, -tossing aside the paper. "The question for us now to solve is the -sequence of events leading from a rifled jewelcase at one end to -the crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You -see, Watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much -more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone the -stone came from the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry -Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other -characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we must set -ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and -ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To -do this, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie -undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If -this fail, I shall have recourse to other methods." -"What will you say?" -"Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then 'Found at -the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. -Henry Baker can have the same by applying at this evening at -B, Baker Street.' That is clear and concise." -"Very. But will he see it?" -"Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor -man, the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his -mischance in breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson -that he thought of nothing but flight, but since then he must -have bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his -bird. Then, again, the introduction of his name will cause him to -see it, for everyone who knows him will direct his attention to -it. Here you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising agency -and have this put in the evening papers." -"In which, sir?" -"Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James's, Evening News, -Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to you." -"Very well, sir. And this stone?" -"Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, -Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here -with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place -of the one which your family is now devouring." -When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and -held it against the light. "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just -see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and -focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet -baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a -bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found -in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable -in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is -blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has -already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a -vitriolthrowing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about -for the sake of this fortygrain weight of crystallised charcoal. -Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the -gallows and the prison? I'll lock it up in my strong box now and -drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it." -"Do you think that this man Horner is innocent?" -"I cannot tell." -"Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had -anything to do with the matter?" -"It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an -absolutely innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he -was carrying was of considerably more value than if it were made -of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by a very simple -test if we have an answer to our advertisement." -"And you can do nothing until then?" -"Nothing." -"In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall -come back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I -should like to see the solution of so tangled a business." -"Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I -believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I -ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop." -I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after halfpast -six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I -approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a -coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the -bright semicircle which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I -arrived the door was opened, and we were shown up together to -Holmes' room. -"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his armchair -and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he -could so readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. -Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation is -more adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have -just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?" -"Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat." -He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a -broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of -grizzled brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight -tremor of his extended hand, recalled Holmes' surmise as to his -habits. His rusty black frockcoat was buttoned right up in -front, with the collar turned up, and his lank wrists protruded -from his sleeves without a sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a -slow staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the -impression generally of a man of learning and letters who had had -illusage at the hands of fortune. -"We have retained these things for some days," said Holmes, -"because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your -address. I am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise." -Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. "Shillings have not -been so plentiful with me as they once were," he remarked. "I had -no doubt that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off -both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a -hopeless attempt at recovering them." -"Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled to -eat it." -"To eat it" Our visitor half rose from his chair in his -excitement. -"Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. -But I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is -about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your -purpose equally well?" -"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of -relief. -"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of -your own bird, so if you wish" -The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They might be useful to me as -relics of my adventure," said he, "but beyond that I can hardly -see what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance are -going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I -will confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive -upon the sideboard." -Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug -of his shoulders. -"There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. "By the -way, would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one -from? I am somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a -better grown goose." -"Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly -gained property under his arm. "There are a few of us who -frequent the Alpha Inn, near the Museumwe are to be found in -the Museum itself during the day, you understand. This year our -good host, Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, -on consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to -receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the -rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a -Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity." With -a comical pomposity of manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and -strode off upon his way. -"So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes when he had closed the -door behind him. "It is quite certain that he knows nothing -whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?" -"Not particularly." -"Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow -up this clue while it is still hot." -"By all means." -It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped -cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly -in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passersby blew out -into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out -crisply and loudly as we swung through the doctors' quarter, -Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore Street into -Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at -the Alpha Inn, which is a small publichouse at the corner of one -of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open -the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beer from -the ruddyfaced, whiteaproned landlord. -"Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," -said he. -"My geese" The man seemed surprised. -"Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, -who was a member of your goose club." -"Ah yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese." -"Indeed Whose, then?" -"Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden." -"Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?" -"Breckinridge is his name." -"Ah I don't know him. Well, here's your good health landlord, -and prosperity to your house. Goodnight." -"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat -as we came out into the frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though -we have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we -have at the other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal -servitude unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible -that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt but, in any case, we -have a line of investigation which has been missed by the police, -and which a singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us -follow it out to the bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and -quick march" -We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a -zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest -stalls bore the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor -a horseylooking man, with a sharp face and trim sidewhiskers was -helping a boy to put up the shutters. -"Goodevening. It's a cold night," said Holmes. -The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my -companion. -"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the -bare slabs of marble. -"Let you have five hundred tomorrow morning." -"That's no good." -"Well, there are some on the stall with the gasflare." -"Ah, but I was recommended to you." -"Who by?" -"The landlord of the Alpha." -"Oh, yes I sent him a couple of dozen." -"Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from?" -To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the -salesman. -"Now, then, mister," said he, with his head cocked and his arms -akimbo, "what are you driving at? Let's have it straight, now." -"It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the -geese which you supplied to the Alpha." -"Well then, I shan't tell you. So now" -"Oh, it is a matter of no importance but I don't know why you -should be so warm over such a trifle." -"Warm You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. -When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end -of the business but it's 'Where are the geese?' and 'Who did you -sell the geese to?' and 'What will you take for the geese?' One -would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the -fuss that is made over them." -"Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been -making inquiries," said Holmes carelessly. "If you won't tell us -the bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my -opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the -bird I ate is country bred." -"Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped -the salesman. -"It's nothing of the kind." -"I say it is." -"I don't believe it." -"D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled -them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that -went to the Alpha were town bred." -"You'll never persuade me to believe that." -"Will you bet, then?" -"It's merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But -I'll have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be -obstinate." -The salesman chuckled grimly. "Bring me the books, Bill," said -he. -The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great -greasybacked one, laying them out together beneath the hanging -lamp. -"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, "I thought that I -was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is -still one left in my shop. You see this little book?" -"Well?" -"That's the list of the folk from whom I buy. D'you see? Well, -then, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers -after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. -Now, then You see this other page in red ink? Well, that is a -list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just -read it out to me." -"Mrs. Oakshott, , Brixton Road," read Holmes. -"Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger." -Holmes turned to the page indicated. "Here you are, 'Mrs. -Oakshott, , Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.'" -"Now, then, what's the last entry?" -"'December nd. Twentyfour geese at s. d.'" -"Quite so. There you are. And underneath?" -"'Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at s.'" -"What have you to say now?" -Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from -his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the -air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off -he stopped under a lamppost and laughed in the hearty, noiseless -fashion which was peculiar to him. -"When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'Pink 'un' -protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet," -said he. "I daresay that if I had put pounds down in front of -him, that man would not have given me such complete information -as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a -wager. Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our -quest, and the only point which remains to be determined is -whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott tonight, or -whether we should reserve it for tomorrow. It is clear from what -that surly fellow said that there are others besides ourselves -who are anxious about the matter, and I should" -His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke -out from the stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a -little ratfaced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of -yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while -Breckinridge, the salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was -shaking his fists fiercely at the cringing figure. -"I've had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. "I wish you -were all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more -with your silly talk I'll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. -Oakshott here and I'll answer her, but what have you to do with -it? Did I buy the geese off you?" -"No but one of them was mine all the same," whined the little -man. -"Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it." -"She told me to ask you." -"Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I've had -enough of it. Get out of this" He rushed fiercely forward, and -the inquirer flitted away into the darkness. -"Ha this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered Holmes. -"Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this -fellow." Striding through the scattered knots of people who -lounged round the flaring stalls, my companion speedily overtook -the little man and touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang -round, and I could see in the gaslight that every vestige of -colour had been driven from his face. -"Who are you, then? What do you want?" he asked in a quavering -voice. -"You will excuse me," said Holmes blandly, "but I could not help -overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. -I think that I could be of assistance to you." -"You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter?" -"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other -people don't know." -"But you can know nothing of this?" -"Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to -trace some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton -Road, to a salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. -Windigate, of the Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. -Henry Baker is a member." -"Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet," cried -the little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. -"I can hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter." -Sherlock Holmes hailed a fourwheeler which was passing. "In that -case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this -windswept marketplace," said he. "But pray tell me, before we -go farther, who it is that I have the pleasure of assisting." -The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robinson," he -answered with a sidelong glance. -"No, no the real name," said Holmes sweetly. "It is always -awkward doing business with an alias." -A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. "Well then," -said he, "my real name is James Ryder." -"Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray -step into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you -everything which you would wish to know." -The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with -halffrightened, halfhopeful eyes, as one who is not sure -whether he is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. -Then he stepped into the cab, and in half an hour we were back in -the sittingroom at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during -our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion, and -the claspings and unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervous -tension within him. -"Here we are" said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. -"The fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, -Mr. Ryder. Pray take the basketchair. I will just put on my -slippers before we settle this little matter of yours. Now, then -You want to know what became of those geese?" -"Yes, sir." -"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in -which you were interestedwhite, with a black bar across the -tail." -Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tell -me where it went to?" -"It came here." -"Here?" -"Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don't wonder that -you should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was -deadthe bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. -I have it here in my museum." -Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece -with his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strongbox and held up -the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, -brilliant, manypointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a -drawn face, uncertain whether to claim or to disown it. -"The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, or -you'll be into the fire Give him an arm back into his chair, -Watson. He's not got blood enough to go in for felony with -impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So Now he looks a little -more human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure" -For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy -brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring -with frightened eyes at his accuser. -"I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I -could possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. -Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the case -complete. You had heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the -Countess of Morcar's?" -"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in a -crackling voice. -"I seeher ladyship's waitingmaid. Well, the temptation of -sudden wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has -been for better men before you but you were not very scrupulous -in the means you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the -making of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man -Horner, the plumber, had been concerned in some such matter -before, and that suspicion would rest the more readily upon him. -What did you do, then? You made some small job in my lady's -roomyou and your confederate Cusackand you managed that he -should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you rifled -the jewelcase, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man -arrested. You then" -Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my -companion's knees. "For God's sake, have mercy" he shrieked. -"Think of my father Of my mother It would break their hearts. I -never went wrong before I never will again. I swear it. I'll -swear it on a Bible. Oh, don't bring it into court For Christ's -sake, don't" -"Get back into your chair" said Holmes sternly. "It is very well -to cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this -poor Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing." -"I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the -charge against him will break down." -"Hum We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account -of the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came -the goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies -your only hope of safety." -Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. "I will tell you -it just as it happened, sir," said he. "When Horner had been -arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get -away with the stone at once, for I did not know at what moment -the police might not take it into their heads to search me and my -room. There was no place about the hotel where it would be safe. -I went out, as if on some commission, and I made for my sister's -house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton -Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way there -every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a detective -and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring down -my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me -what was the matter, and why I was so pale but I told her that I -had been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went -into the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would -be best to do. -"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and -has just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met -me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they -could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to -me, for I knew one or two things about him so I made up my mind -to go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into my -confidence. He would show me how to turn the stone into money. -But how to get to him in safety? I thought of the agonies I had -gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be -seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoat -pocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time and looking at -the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and suddenly -an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the -best detective that ever lived. -"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the -pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she -was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in -it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in -the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birdsa fine big -one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill -open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger -could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass -along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped -and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the -matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and -fluttered off among the others. -"'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she. -"'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I -was feeling which was the fattest.' -"'Oh,' says she, 'we've set yours aside for youJem's bird, we -call it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's twentysix -of them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen -for the market.' -"'Thank you, Maggie,' says I 'but if it is all the same to you, -I'd rather have that one I was handling just now.' -"'The other is a good three pound heavier,' said she, 'and we -fattened it expressly for you.' -"'Never mind. I'll have the other, and I'll take it now,' said I. -"'Oh, just as you like,' said she, a little huffed. 'Which is it -you want, then?' -"'That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the -flock.' -"'Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.' -"Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird -all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was -a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed -until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My -heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I -knew that some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, -rushed back to my sister's, and hurried into the back yard. There -was not a bird to be seen there. -"'Where are they all, Maggie?' I cried. -"'Gone to the dealer's, Jem.' -"'Which dealer's?' -"'Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.' -"'But was there another with a barred tail?' I asked, 'the same -as the one I chose?' -"'Yes, Jem there were two barredtailed ones, and I could never -tell them apart.' -"Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my -feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge but he had sold the -lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they -had gone. You heard him yourselves tonight. Well, he has always -answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. -Sometimes I think that I am myself. And nowand now I am myself -a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which -I sold my character. God help me God help me" He burst into -convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands. -There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and -by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes' fingertips upon the -edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door. -"Get out" said he. -"What, sir Oh, Heaven bless you" -"No more words. Get out" -And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon -the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running -footfalls from the street. -"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his -clay pipe, "I am not retained by the police to supply their -deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another thing -but this fellow will not appear against him, and the case must -collapse. I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just -possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong -again he is too terribly frightened. Send him to gaol now, and -you make him a gaolbird for life. Besides, it is the season of -forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and -whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If you -will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin -another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief -feature." -VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND -On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I -have during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend -Sherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number -merely strange, but none commonplace for, working as he did -rather for the love of his art than for the acquirement of -wealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigation -which did not tend towards the unusual, and even the fantastic. -Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any which -presented more singular features than that which was associated -with the wellknown Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. -The events in question occurred in the early days of my -association with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelors -in Baker Street. It is possible that I might have placed them -upon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made at the -time, from which I have only been freed during the last month by -the untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge was given. It -is perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for I -have reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to the -death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even -more terrible than the truth. -It was early in April in the year ' that I woke one morning to -find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my -bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the -mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarterpast seven, I -blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little -resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits. -"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's the -common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she -retorted upon me, and I on you." -"What is it, thena fire?" -"No a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a -considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She -is waiting now in the sittingroom. Now, when young ladies wander -about the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock -sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it is -something very pressing which they have to communicate. Should it -prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish to -follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I should -call you and give you the chance." -"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything." -I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his -professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid -deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a -logical basis with which he unravelled the problems which were -submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready in -a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sittingroom. A -lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting in -the window, rose as we entered. -"Goodmorning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is Sherlock -Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, -before whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha I am -glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the -fire. Pray draw up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot -coffee, for I observe that you are shivering." -"It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a low -voice, changing her seat as requested. -"What, then?" -"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil as -she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable -state of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless -frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her features -and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot -with premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. -Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick, -allcomprehensive glances. -"You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward and -patting her forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have no -doubt. You have come in by train this morning, I see." -"You know me, then?" -"No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm -of your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had -a good drive in a dogcart, along heavy roads, before you reached -the station." -The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my -companion. -"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The left -arm of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven -places. The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a -dogcart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you -sit on the lefthand side of the driver." -"Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct," said -she. "I started from home before six, reached Leatherhead at -twenty past, and came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I -can stand this strain no longer I shall go mad if it continues. -I have no one to turn tonone, save only one, who cares for me, -and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. I have heard of you, -Mr. Holmes I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you -helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from her that I had -your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me, -too, and at least throw a little light through the dense darkness -which surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to reward -you for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be -married, with the control of my own income, and then at least you -shall not find me ungrateful." -Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small -casebook, which he consulted. -"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case it was -concerned with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, -Watson. I can only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote -the same care to your case as I did to that of your friend. As to -reward, my profession is its own reward but you are at liberty -to defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which -suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before us -everything that may help us in forming an opinion upon the -matter." -"Alas" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation -lies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions -depend so entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to -another, that even he to whom of all others I have a right to -look for help and advice looks upon all that I tell him about it -as the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can -read it from his soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have -heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifold -wickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how to walk amid -the dangers which encompass me." -"I am all attention, madam." -"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who -is the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in -England, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of -Surrey." -Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he. -"The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the -estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, -and Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four -successive heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, -and the family ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the -days of the Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, -and the twohundredyearold house, which is itself crushed under -a heavy mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence -there, living the horrible life of an aristocratic pauper but -his only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to -the new conditions, obtained an advance from a relative, which -enabled him to take a medical degree and went out to Calcutta, -where, by his professional skill and his force of character, he -established a large practice. In a fit of anger, however, caused -by some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, he -beat his native butler to death and narrowly escaped a capital -sentence. As it was, he suffered a long term of imprisonment and -afterwards returned to England a morose and disappointed man. -"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, -the young widow of MajorGeneral Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. -My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old -at the time of my mother's remarriage. She had a considerable -sum of moneynot less than pounds a yearand this she -bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely while we resided with him, -with a provision that a certain annual sum should be allowed to -each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly after our return -to England my mother diedshe was killed eight years ago in a -railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his -attempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us -to live with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The -money which my mother had left was enough for all our wants, and -there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness. -"But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. -Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our -neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of -Stoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself up in -his house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious -quarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violence of temper -approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of the -family, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe, been -intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series of -disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the -policecourt, until at last he became the terror of the village, -and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of -immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger. -"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a -stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I -could gather together that I was able to avert another public -exposure. He had no friends at all save the wandering gipsies, -and he would give these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few -acres of bramblecovered land which represent the family estate, -and would accept in return the hospitality of their tents, -wandering away with them sometimes for weeks on end. He has a -passion also for Indian animals, which are sent over to him by a -correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and a baboon, -which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by the -villagers almost as much as their master. -"You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I -had no great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with -us, and for a long time we did all the work of the house. She was -but thirty at the time of her death, and yet her hair had already -begun to whiten, even as mine has." -"Your sister is dead, then?" -"She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish -to speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I -have described, we were little likely to see anyone of our own -age and position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother's maiden -sister, Miss Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we -were occasionally allowed to pay short visits at this lady's -house. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago, and met there -a halfpay major of marines, to whom she became engaged. My -stepfather learned of the engagement when my sister returned and -offered no objection to the marriage but within a fortnight of -the day which had been fixed for the wedding, the terrible event -occurred which has deprived me of my only companion." -Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes -closed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his -lids now and glanced across at his visitor. -"Pray be precise as to details," said he. -"It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful -time is seared into my memory. The manorhouse is, as I have -already said, very old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The -bedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor, the sittingrooms -being in the central block of the buildings. Of these bedrooms -the first is Dr. Roylott's, the second my sister's, and the third -my own. There is no communication between them, but they all open -out into the same corridor. Do I make myself plain?" -"Perfectly so." -"The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That -fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we -knew that he had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled -by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it was his custom -to smoke. She left her room, therefore, and came into mine, where -she sat for some time, chatting about her approaching wedding. At -eleven o'clock she rose to leave me, but she paused at the door -and looked back. -"'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistle -in the dead of the night?' -"'Never,' said I. -"'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in -your sleep?' -"'Certainly not. But why?' -"'Because during the last few nights I have always, about three -in the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, -and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came fromperhaps -from the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would -just ask you whether you had heard it.' -"'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in the -plantation.' -"'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you -did not hear it also.' -"'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.' -"'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiled -back at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her -key turn in the lock." -"Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom always to lock -yourselves in at night?" -"Always." -"And why?" -"I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah -and a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were -locked." -"Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement." -"I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending -misfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, -were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two -souls which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The wind -was howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashing -against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale, -there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew -that it was my sister's voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped a -shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door -I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and -a few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had -fallen. As I ran down the passage, my sister's door was unlocked, -and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it -horrorstricken, not knowing what was about to issue from it. By -the light of the corridorlamp I saw my sister appear at the -opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping for -help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a -drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that -moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. -She writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were -dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that she had not -recognised me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out -in a voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God Helen It was -the band The speckled band' There was something else which she -would fain have said, and she stabbed with her finger into the -air in the direction of the doctor's room, but a fresh convulsion -seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling loudly for -my stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in his -dressinggown. When he reached my sister's side she was -unconscious, and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent -for medical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, for -she slowly sank and died without having recovered her -consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister." -"One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure about this whistle and -metallic sound? Could you swear to it?" -"That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is -my strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of -the gale and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have -been deceived." -"Was your sister dressed?" -"No, she was in her nightdress. In her right hand was found the -charred stump of a match, and in her left a matchbox." -"Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when -the alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did -the coroner come to?" -"He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott's -conduct had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable -to find any satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that -the door had been fastened upon the inner side, and the windows -were blocked by oldfashioned shutters with broad iron bars, -which were secured every night. The walls were carefully sounded, -and were shown to be quite solid all round, and the flooring was -also thoroughly examined, with the same result. The chimney is -wide, but is barred up by four large staples. It is certain, -therefore, that my sister was quite alone when she met her end. -Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her." -"How about poison?" -"The doctors examined her for it, but without success." -"What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?" -"It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, -though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine." -"Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?" -"Yes, there are nearly always some there." -"Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a banda -speckled band?" -"Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of -delirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some band of -people, perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not -know whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wear -over their heads might have suggested the strange adjective which -she used." -Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied. -"These are very deep waters," said he "pray go on with your -narrative." -"Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until -lately lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, -whom I have known for many years, has done me the honour to ask -my hand in marriage. His name is ArmitagePercy Armitagethe -second son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My -stepfather has offered no opposition to the match, and we are to -be married in the course of the spring. Two days ago some repairs -were started in the west wing of the building, and my bedroom -wall has been pierced, so that I have had to move into the -chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very bed in -which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last -night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I -suddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which -had been the herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the -lamp, but nothing was to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to -go to bed again, however, so I dressed, and as soon as it was -daylight I slipped down, got a dogcart at the Crown Inn, which -is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come on -this morning with the one object of seeing you and asking your -advice." -"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you told me -all?" -"Yes, all." -"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather." -"Why, what do you mean?" -For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which -fringed the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five little -livid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed -upon the white wrist. -"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes. -The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "He -is a hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his own -strength." -There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin -upon his hands and stared into the crackling fire. -"This is a very deep business," he said at last. "There are a -thousand details which I should desire to know before I decide -upon our course of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If -we were to come to Stoke Moran today, would it be possible for -us to see over these rooms without the knowledge of your -stepfather?" -"As it happens, he spoke of coming into town today upon some -most important business. It is probable that he will be away all -day, and that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a -housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily -get her out of the way." -"Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?" -"By no means." -"Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?" -"I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am -in town. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock train, so as to -be there in time for your coming." -"And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some -small business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and -breakfast?" -"No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have -confided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you -again this afternoon." She dropped her thick black veil over her -face and glided from the room. -"And what do you think of it all, Watson?" asked Sherlock Holmes, -leaning back in his chair. -"It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business." -"Dark enough and sinister enough." -"Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls -are sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, -then her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her -mysterious end." -"What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the -very peculiar words of the dying woman?" -"I cannot think." -"When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of -a band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, -the fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has -an interest in preventing his stepdaughter's marriage, the dying -allusion to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner -heard a metallic clang, which might have been caused by one of -those metal bars that secured the shutters falling back into its -place, I think that there is good ground to think that the -mystery may be cleared along those lines." -"But what, then, did the gipsies do?" -"I cannot imagine." -"I see many objections to any such theory." -"And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going -to Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are -fatal, or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of -the devil" -The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that -our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had -framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar -mixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having a -black tophat, a long frockcoat, and a pair of high gaiters, -with a huntingcrop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that his -hat actually brushed the cross bar of the doorway, and his -breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face, -seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and -marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the other -of us, while his deepset, bileshot eyes, and his high, thin, -fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old -bird of prey. -"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition. -"My name, sir but you have the advantage of me," said my -companion quietly. -"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran." -"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat." -"I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I -have traced her. What has she been saying to you?" -"It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes. -"What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old man -furiously. -"But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued my -companion imperturbably. -"Ha You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a step -forward and shaking his huntingcrop. "I know you, you scoundrel -I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler." -My friend smiled. -"Holmes, the busybody" -His smile broadened. -"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jackinoffice" -Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is most -entertaining," said he. "When you go out close the door, for -there is a decided draught." -"I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle with -my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her -I am a dangerous man to fall foul of See here." He stepped -swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with -his huge brown hands. -"See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, and -hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the -room. -"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I am -not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him -that my grip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spoke -he picked up the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, -straightened it out again. -"Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official -detective force This incident gives zest to our investigation, -however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer -from her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, -Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk -down to Doctors' Commons, where I hope to get some data which may -help us in this matter." -It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his -excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled -over with notes and figures. -"I have seen the will of the deceased wife," said he. "To -determine its exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the -present prices of the investments with which it is concerned. The -total income, which at the time of the wife's death was little -short of pounds, is now, through the fall in agricultural -prices, not more than pounds. Each daughter can claim an -income of pounds, in case of marriage. It is evident, -therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would have -had a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to -a very serious extent. My morning's work has not been wasted, -since it has proved that he has the very strongest motives for -standing in the way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, -this is too serious for dawdling, especially as the old man is -aware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs so if you -are ready, we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be -very much obliged if you would slip your revolver into your -pocket. An Eley's No. is an excellent argument with gentlemen -who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a toothbrush -are, I think, all that we need." -At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for -Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove -for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a -perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the -heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing out -their first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant -smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange -contrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this -sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in -the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over -his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the -deepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the -shoulder, and pointed over the meadows. -"Look there" said he. -A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, -thickening into a grove at the highest point. From amid the -branches there jutted out the grey gables and high rooftree of a -very old mansion. -"Stoke Moran?" said he. -"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," remarked -the driver. -"There is some building going on there," said Holmes "that is -where we are going." -"There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster of -roofs some distance to the left "but if you want to get to the -house, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by -the footpath over the fields. There it is, where the lady is -walking." -"And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shading -his eyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest." -We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way -to Leatherhead. -"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, -"that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or -on some definite business. It may stop his gossip. -Goodafternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good as -our word." -Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a -face which spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so eagerly for -you," she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turned -out splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely -that he will be back before evening." -"We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's acquaintance," -said Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had -occurred. Miss Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened. -"Good heavens" she cried, "he has followed me, then." -"So it appears." -"He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What -will he say when he returns?" -"He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone -more cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself -up from him tonight. If he is violent, we shall take you away to -your aunt's at Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of our -time, so kindly take us at once to the rooms which we are to -examine." -The building was of grey, lichenblotched stone, with a high -central portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, -thrown out on each side. In one of these wings the windows were -broken and blocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partly -caved in, a picture of ruin. The central portion was in little -better repair, but the righthand block was comparatively modern, -and the blinds in the windows, with the blue smoke curling up -from the chimneys, showed that this was where the family resided. -Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall, and the -stonework had been broken into, but there were no signs of any -workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly up and -down the illtrimmed lawn and examined with deep attention the -outsides of the windows. -"This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, -the centre one to your sister's, and the one next to the main -building to Dr. Roylott's chamber?" -"Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one." -"Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does -not seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end -wall." -"There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from -my room." -"Ah that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow -wing runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. There -are windows in it, of course?" -"Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass -through." -"As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were -unapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindness -to go into your room and bar your shutters?" -Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination -through the open window, endeavoured in every way to force the -shutter open, but without success. There was no slit through -which a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then with his -lens he tested the hinges, but they were of solid iron, built -firmly into the massive masonry. "Hum" said he, scratching his -chin in some perplexity, "my theory certainly presents some -difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they were -bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon -the matter." -A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which -the three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third -chamber, so we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss -Stoner was now sleeping, and in which her sister had met with her -fate. It was a homely little room, with a low ceiling and a -gaping fireplace, after the fashion of old countryhouses. A -brown chest of drawers stood in one corner, a narrow -whitecounterpaned bed in another, and a dressingtable on the -lefthand side of the window. These articles, with two small -wickerwork chairs, made up all the furniture in the room save -for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round and -the panelling of the walls were of brown, wormeaten oak, so old -and discoloured that it may have dated from the original building -of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat -silent, while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down, -taking in every detail of the apartment. -"Where does that bell communicate with?" he asked at last -pointing to a thick bellrope which hung down beside the bed, the -tassel actually lying upon the pillow. -"It goes to the housekeeper's room." -"It looks newer than the other things?" -"Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago." -"Your sister asked for it, I suppose?" -"No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we -wanted for ourselves." -"Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bellpull there. -You will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to -this floor." He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in -his hand and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining -minutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the same with -the woodwork with which the chamber was panelled. Finally he -walked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it and -in running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took the -bellrope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug. -"Why, it's a dummy," said he. -"Won't it ring?" -"No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. -You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where -the little opening for the ventilator is." -"How very absurd I never noticed that before." -"Very strange" muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. "There are -one or two very singular points about this room. For example, -what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator into another -room, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicated -with the outside air" -"That is also quite modern," said the lady. -"Done about the same time as the bellrope?" remarked Holmes. -"Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that -time." -"They seem to have been of a most interesting characterdummy -bellropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your -permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into -the inner apartment." -Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of his -stepdaughter, but was as plainly furnished. A campbed, a small -wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an -armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a -round table, and a large iron safe were the principal things -which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each -and all of them with the keenest interest. -"What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe. -"My stepfather's business papers." -"Oh you have seen inside, then?" -"Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of -papers." -"There isn't a cat in it, for example?" -"No. What a strange idea" -"Well, look at this" He took up a small saucer of milk which -stood on the top of it. -"No we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon." -"Ah, yes, of course Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a -saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I -daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine." He -squatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seat -of it with the greatest attention. -"Thank you. That is quite settled," said he, rising and putting -his lens in his pocket. "Hullo Here is something interesting" -The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on -one corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself -and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord. -"What do you make of that, Watson?" -"It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why it should be -tied." -"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me it's a wicked world, -and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst -of all. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and -with your permission we shall walk out upon the lawn." -I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark as -it was when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We -had walked several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss -Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before he -roused himself from his reverie. -"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you should -absolutely follow my advice in every respect." -"I shall most certainly do so." -"The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may -depend upon your compliance." -"I assure you that I am in your hands." -"In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in -your room." -Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment. -"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the -village inn over there?" -"Yes, that is the Crown." -"Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?" -"Certainly." -"You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a -headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him -retire for the night, you must open the shutters of your window, -undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then -withdraw quietly with everything which you are likely to want -into the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt that, in -spite of the repairs, you could manage there for one night." -"Oh, yes, easily." -"The rest you will leave in our hands." -"But what will you do?" -"We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate -the cause of this noise which has disturbed you." -"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind," -said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's sleeve. -"Perhaps I have." -"Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister's -death." -"I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak." -"You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and -if she died from some sudden fright." -"No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more -tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if -Dr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. -Goodbye, and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, -you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away the dangers -that threaten you." -Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and -sittingroom at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and -from our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and -of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw -Dr. Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside -the little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some -slight difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard -the hoarse roar of the doctor's voice and saw the fury with which -he shook his clinched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a few -minutes later we saw a sudden light spring up among the trees as -the lamp was lit in one of the sittingrooms. -"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in the -gathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking you -tonight. There is a distinct element of danger." -"Can I be of assistance?" -"Your presence might be invaluable." -"Then I shall certainly come." -"It is very kind of you." -"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms -than was visible to me." -"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine -that you saw all that I did." -"I saw nothing remarkable save the bellrope, and what purpose -that could answer I confess is more than I can imagine." -"You saw the ventilator, too?" -"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to -have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a -rat could hardly pass through." -"I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to -Stoke Moran." -"My dear Holmes" -"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her -sister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that -suggested at once that there must be a communication between the -two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have been -remarked upon at the coroner's inquiry. I deduced a ventilator." -"But what harm can there be in that?" -"Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A -ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the -bed dies. Does not that strike you?" -"I cannot as yet see any connection." -"Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?" -"No." -"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened -like that before?" -"I cannot say that I have." -"The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same -relative position to the ventilator and to the ropeor so we may -call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bellpull." -"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. -We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible -crime." -"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong -he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. -Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession. -This man strikes even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall -be able to strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough -before the night is over for goodness' sake let us have a quiet -pipe and turn our minds for a few hours to something more -cheerful." -About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished, -and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours -passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of -eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us. -"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet "it -comes from the middle window." -As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, -explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, -and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. A -moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing -in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us -through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand. -There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for -unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way -among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about -to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel -bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted -child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and -then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness. -"My God" I whispered "did you see it?" -Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like -a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low -laugh and put his lips to my ear. -"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon." -I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There -was a cheetah, too perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders -at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, -after following Holmes' example and slipping off my shoes, I -found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed -the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast his eyes -round the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime. Then -creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered -into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do to -distinguish the words -"The least sound would be fatal to our plans." -I nodded to show that I had heard. -"We must sit without light. He would see it through the -ventilator." -I nodded again. -"Do not go asleep your very life may depend upon it. Have your -pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of -the bed, and you in that chair." -I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table. -Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon -the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the -stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left -in darkness. -How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a -sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my -companion sat openeyed, within a few feet of me, in the same -state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut -off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness. -From outside came the occasional cry of a nightbird, and once at -our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that -the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the -deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of -an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters Twelve struck, and -one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for -whatever might befall. -Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the -direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was -succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. -Someone in the next room had lit a darklantern. I heard a gentle -sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though the -smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears. -Then suddenly another sound became audiblea very gentle, -soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping -continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes -sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with -his cane at the bellpull. -"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?" -But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I -heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my -weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which -my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face -was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. He had -ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator when -suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most -horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder -and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled -in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the -village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the -sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I -stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it -had died away into the silence from which it rose. -"What can it mean?" I gasped. -"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps, -after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will -enter Dr. Roylott's room." -With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the -corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply -from within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his -heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand. -It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a -darklantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant -beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. -Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott -clad in a long grey dressinggown, his bare ankles protruding -beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. -Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we -had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and his -eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the -ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with -brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round his -head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion. -"The band the speckled band" whispered Holmes. -I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began -to move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat -diamondshaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent. -"It is a swamp adder" cried Holmes "the deadliest snake in -India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence -does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls -into the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust this -creature back into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to -some place of shelter and let the county police know what has -happened." -As he spoke he drew the dogwhip swiftly from the dead man's lap, -and throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he drew it from -its horrid perch and, carrying it at arm's length, threw it into -the iron safe, which he closed upon it. -Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of -Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a -narrative which has already run to too great a length by telling -how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyed -her by the morning train to the care of her good aunt at Harrow, -of how the slow process of official inquiry came to the -conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetly -playing with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to learn -of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled back -next day. -"I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which -shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from -insufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use of -the word 'band,' which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to -explain the appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of -by the light of her match, were sufficient to put me upon an -entirely wrong scent. I can only claim the merit that I instantly -reconsidered my position when, however, it became clear to me -that whatever danger threatened an occupant of the room could not -come either from the window or the door. My attention was -speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to this -ventilator, and to the bellrope which hung down to the bed. The -discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clamped to -the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope was -there as a bridge for something passing through the hole and -coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, -and when I coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor was -furnished with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that I -was probably on the right track. The idea of using a form of -poison which could not possibly be discovered by any chemical -test was just such a one as would occur to a clever and ruthless -man who had had an Eastern training. The rapidity with which such -a poison would take effect would also, from his point of view, be -an advantage. It would be a sharpeyed coroner, indeed, who could -distinguish the two little dark punctures which would show where -the poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the -whistle. Of course he must recall the snake before the morning -light revealed it to the victim. He had trained it, probably by -the use of the milk which we saw, to return to him when summoned. -He would put it through this ventilator at the hour that he -thought best, with the certainty that it would crawl down the -rope and land on the bed. It might or might not bite the -occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but -sooner or later she must fall a victim. -"I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his -room. An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in -the habit of standing on it, which of course would be necessary -in order that he should reach the ventilator. The sight of the -safe, the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough to -finally dispel any doubts which may have remained. The metallic -clang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfather -hastily closing the door of his safe upon its terrible occupant. -Having once made up my mind, you know the steps which I took in -order to put the matter to the proof. I heard the creature hiss -as I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit the -light and attacked it." -"With the result of driving it through the ventilator." -"And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master -at the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and -roused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person -it saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. -Grimesby Roylott's death, and I cannot say that it is likely to -weigh very heavily upon my conscience." -IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB -Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. -Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, -there were only two which I was the means of introducing to his -noticethat of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel -Warburton's madness. Of these the latter may have afforded a -finer field for an acute and original observer, but the other was -so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its details that -it may be the more worthy of being placed upon record, even if it -gave my friend fewer openings for those deductive methods of -reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results. The story -has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, -like all such narratives, its effect is much less striking when -set forth en bloc in a single halfcolumn of print than when the -facts slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears -gradually away as each new discovery furnishes a step which leads -on to the complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a -deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly -served to weaken the effect. -It was in the summer of ', not long after my marriage, that the -events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned -to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker -Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally -even persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come -and visit us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I -happened to live at no very great distance from Paddington -Station, I got a few patients from among the officials. One of -these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was -never weary of advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send -me on every sufferer over whom he might have any influence. -One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by -the maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come -from Paddington and were waiting in the consultingroom. I -dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases -were seldom trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my -old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door -tightly behind him. -"I've got him here," he whispered, jerking his thumb over his -shoulder "he's all right." -"What is it, then?" I asked, for his manner suggested that it was -some strange creature which he had caged up in my room. -"It's a new patient," he whispered. "I thought I'd bring him -round myself then he couldn't slip away. There he is, all safe -and sound. I must go now, Doctor I have my dooties, just the -same as you." And off he went, this trusty tout, without even -giving me time to thank him. -I entered my consultingroom and found a gentleman seated by the -table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a -soft cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of -his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all -over with bloodstains. He was young, not more than -fiveandtwenty, I should say, with a strong, masculine face but -he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who -was suffering from some strong agitation, which it took all his -strength of mind to control. -"I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor," said he, "but I -have had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by -train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I -might find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me -here. I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon -the sidetable." -I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic -engineer, A, Victoria Street rd floor." That was the name, -style, and abode of my morning visitor. "I regret that I have -kept you waiting," said I, sitting down in my librarychair. "You -are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself -a monotonous occupation." -"Oh, my night could not be called monotonous," said he, and -laughed. He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, -leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical -instincts rose up against that laugh. -"Stop it" I cried "pull yourself together" and I poured out -some water from a caraffe. -It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical -outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis -is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very -weary and palelooking. -"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped. -"Not at all. Drink this." I dashed some brandy into the water, -and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks. -"That's better" said he. "And now, Doctor, perhaps you would -kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb -used to be." -He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even -my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four -protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the -thumb should have been. It had been hacked or torn right out from -the roots. -"Good heavens" I cried, "this is a terrible injury. It must have -bled considerably." -"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must -have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that -it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very -tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig." -"Excellent You should have been a surgeon." -"It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own -province." -"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very -heavy and sharp instrument." -"A thing like a cleaver," said he. -"An accident, I presume?" -"By no means." -"What a murderous attack?" -"Very murderous indeed." -"You horrify me." -I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered -it over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back -without wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time. -"How is that?" I asked when I had finished. -"Capital Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. -I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through." -"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently -trying to your nerves." -"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police -but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing -evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they -believed my statement, for it is a very extraordinary one, and I -have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up and, -even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so -vague that it is a question whether justice will be done." -"Ha" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem -which you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you -to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the -official police." -"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I -should be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of -course I must use the official police as well. Would you give me -an introduction to him?" -"I'll do better. I'll take you round to him myself." -"I should be immensely obliged to you." -"We'll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to -have a little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?" -"Yes I shall not feel easy until I have told my story." -"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an -instant." I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my -wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my -new acquaintance to Baker Street. -Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his -sittingroom in his dressinggown, reading the agony column of The -Times and smoking his beforebreakfast pipe, which was composed -of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day -before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the -mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly genial fashion, -ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. -When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the -sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of -brandy and water within his reach. -"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, -Mr. Hatherley," said he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself -absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are -tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant." -"Thank you," said my patient. "but I have felt another man since -the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has -completed the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable -time as possible, so I shall start at once upon my peculiar -experiences." -Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavylidded -expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat -opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story -which our visitor detailed to us. -"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor, -residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a -hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my -work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner -Matheson, the wellknown firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, -having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of -money through my poor father's death, I determined to start in -business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria -Street. -"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in -business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. -During two years I have had three consultations and one small -job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought -me. My gross takings amount to pounds s. Every day, from -nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my -little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to -believe that I should never have any practice at all. -"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the -office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who -wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with -the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it. Close at -his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle -size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have -ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose -and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over -his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his -natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his -step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly -dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than -thirty. -"'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something of a German accent. -'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man -who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet -and capable of preserving a secret.' -"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an -address. 'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?' -"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just -at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both -an orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.' -"'That is quite correct,' I answered 'but you will excuse me if -I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional -qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter -that you wished to speak to me?' -"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to -the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute -secrecy is quite essentialabsolute secrecy, you understand, and -of course we may expect that more from a man who is alone than -from one who lives in the bosom of his family.' -"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely -depend upon my doing so.' -"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I -had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye. -"'Do you promise, then?' said he at last. -"'Yes, I promise.' -"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No -reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?' -"'I have already given you my word.' -"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning -across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was -empty. -"'That's all right,' said he, coming back. 'I know that clerks are -sometimes curious as to their master's affairs. Now we can talk -in safety.' He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to -stare at me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look. -"A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun -to rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. -Even my dread of losing a client could not restrain me from -showing my impatience. -"'I beg that you will state your business, sir,' said I 'my time -is of value.' Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the -words came to my lips. -"'How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?' he asked. -"'Most admirably.' -"'I say a night's work, but an hour's would be nearer the mark. I -simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which -has got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon -set it right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as -that?' -"'The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.' -"'Precisely so. We shall want you to come tonight by the last -train.' -"'Where to?' -"'To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders -of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a -train from Paddington which would bring you there at about -"'Very good.' -"'I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.' -"'There is a drive, then?' -"'Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good -seven miles from Eyford Station.' -"'Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there -would be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop -the night.' -"'Yes, we could easily give you a shakedown.' -"'That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient -hour?' -"'We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to -recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a -young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the -very heads of your profession. Still, of course, if you would -like to draw out of the business, there is plenty of time to do -so.' -"I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they -would be to me. 'Not at all,' said I, 'I shall be very happy to -accommodate myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to -understand a little more clearly what it is that you wish me to -do.' -"'Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which -we have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I -have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all -laid before you. I suppose that we are absolutely safe from -eavesdroppers?' -"'Entirely.' -"'Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that -fuller'searth is a valuable product, and that it is only found -in one or two places in England?' -"'I have heard so.' -"'Some little time ago I bought a small placea very small -placewithin ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to -discover that there was a deposit of fuller'searth in one of my -fields. On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a -comparatively small one, and that it formed a link between two -very much larger ones upon the right and leftboth of them, -however, in the grounds of my neighbours. These good people were -absolutely ignorant that their land contained that which was -quite as valuable as a goldmine. Naturally, it was to my -interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, -but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. I -took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they -suggested that we should quietly and secretly work our own little -deposit and that in this way we should earn the money which would -enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. This we have now been -doing for some time, and in order to help us in our operations we -erected a hydraulic press. This press, as I have already -explained, has got out of order, and we wish your advice upon the -subject. We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it -once became known that we had hydraulic engineers coming to our -little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if the facts -came out, it would be goodbye to any chance of getting these -fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you -promise me that you will not tell a human being that you are -going to Eyford tonight. I hope that I make it all plain?' -"'I quite follow you,' said I. 'The only point which I could not -quite understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press -in excavating fuller'searth, which, as I understand, is dug out -like gravel from a pit.' -"'Ah' said he carelessly, 'we have our own process. We compress -the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing -what they are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully -into my confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I -trust you.' He rose as he spoke. 'I shall expect you, then, at -Eyford at .' -"'I shall certainly be there.' -"'And not a word to a soul.' He looked at me with a last long, -questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank -grasp, he hurried from the room. -"Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very -much astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission -which had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was -glad, for the fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked -had I set a price upon my own services, and it was possible that -this order might lead to other ones. On the other hand, the face -and manner of my patron had made an unpleasant impression upon -me, and I could not think that his explanation of the -fuller'searth was sufficient to explain the necessity for my -coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I should tell -anyone of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the winds, ate -a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off, having -obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue. -"At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. -However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I -reached the little dimlit station after eleven o'clock. I was the -only passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the -platform save a single sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed -out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of -the morning waiting in the shadow upon the other side. Without a -word he grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door -of which was standing open. He drew up the windows on either -side, tapped on the woodwork, and away we went as fast as the -horse could go." -"One horse?" interjected Holmes. -"Yes, only one." -"Did you observe the colour?" -"Yes, I saw it by the sidelights when I was stepping into the -carriage. It was a chestnut." -"Tiredlooking or fresh?" -"Oh, fresh and glossy." -"Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue -your most interesting statement." -"Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel -Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I -should think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the -time that we took, that it must have been nearer twelve. He sat -at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than -once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me -with great intensity. The country roads seem to be not very good -in that part of the world, for we lurched and jolted terribly. I -tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we -were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make out -nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now -and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the -journey, but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the -conversation soon flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the -road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a graveldrive, -and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang -out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly into a porch -which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of -the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to catch the -most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant that -I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us, -and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage -drove away. -"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled -about looking for matches and muttering under his breath. -Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a -long, golden bar of light shot out in our direction. It grew -broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she -held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. -I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which -the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it was a rich -material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as -though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a -gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly -fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered -something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room -from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the -lamp in his hand. -"'Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a -few minutes,' said he, throwing open another door. It was a -quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the -centre, on which several German books were scattered. Colonel -Stark laid down the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the -door. 'I shall not keep you waiting an instant,' said he, and -vanished into the darkness. -"I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my -ignorance of German I could see that two of them were treatises -on science, the others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked -across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of -the countryside, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded -across it. It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an old -clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise -everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began -to steal over me. Who were these German people, and what were -they doing living in this strange, outoftheway place? And -where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was -all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no -idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, -were within that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, -after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, -that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room, -humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling -that I was thoroughly earning my fiftyguinea fee. -"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the -utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman -was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind -her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and -beautiful face. I could see at a glance that she was sick with -fear, and the sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one -shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few -whispered words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back, -like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her. -"'I would go,' said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to -speak calmly 'I would go. I should not stay here. There is no -good for you to do.' -"'But, madam,' said I, 'I have not yet done what I came for. I -cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine.' -"'It is not worth your while to wait,' she went on. 'You can pass -through the door no one hinders.' And then, seeing that I smiled -and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and -made a step forward, with her hands wrung together. 'For the love -of Heaven' she whispered, 'get away from here before it is too -late' -"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to -engage in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I -thought of my fiftyguinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of -the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to -go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried -out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This -woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout -bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I -cared to confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention -of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties -when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps -was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up -her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and -as noiselessly as she had come. -"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man -with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double -chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson. -"'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel. 'By the -way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just -now. I fear that you have felt the draught.' -"'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself because I -felt the room to be a little close.' -"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. 'Perhaps we had -better proceed to business, then,' said he. 'Mr. Ferguson and I -will take you up to see the machine.' -"'I had better put my hat on, I suppose.' -"'Oh, no, it is in the house.' -"'What, you dig fuller'searth in the house?' -"'No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. -All we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us -know what is wrong with it.' -"We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the -fat manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, -with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little -low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the -generations who had crossed them. There were no carpets and no -signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the plaster -was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in -green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an -air as possible, but I had not forgotten the warnings of the -lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon -my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent -man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at -least a fellowcountryman. -"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which -he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three -of us could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, -and the colonel ushered me in. -"'We are now,' said he, 'actually within the hydraulic press, and -it would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were -to turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the -end of the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of -many tons upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns -of water outside which receive the force, and which transmit and -multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine -goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working -of it, and it has lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will -have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set -it right.' -"I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very -thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of -exercising enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and -pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by -the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed -a regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders. An -examination showed that one of the indiarubber bands which was -round the head of a drivingrod had shrunk so as not quite to -fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the cause -of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my companions, who -followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical -questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When I -had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the -machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity. -It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller'searth -was the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose -that so powerful an engine could be designed for so inadequate a -purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a -large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a -crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was -scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a -muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the -colonel looking down at me. -"'What are you doing there?' he asked. -"I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as -that which he had told me. 'I was admiring your fuller'searth,' -said I 'I think that I should be better able to advise you as to -your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it -was used.' -"The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of -my speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in -his grey eyes. -"'Very well,' said he, 'you shall know all about the machine.' He -took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key -in the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it -was quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and -shoves. 'Hullo' I yelled. 'Hullo Colonel Let me out' -"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my -heart into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish -of the leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp -still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining -the trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming -down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than -myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a -shapeless pulp. I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and -dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to let -me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers drowned my -cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with -my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. Then it -flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend -very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my -face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to -think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps and -yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly black -shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand -erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope -back to my heart. -"I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the -walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw -a thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which -broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For -an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door -which led away from death. The next instant I threw myself -through, and lay halffainting upon the other side. The panel had -closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few -moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me -how narrow had been my escape. -"I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and -I found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, -while a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, -while she held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend -whose warning I had so foolishly rejected. -"'Come come' she cried breathlessly. 'They will be here in a -moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste -the soprecious time, but come' -"This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to -my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding -stair. The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we -reached it we heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of -two voices, one answering the other from the floor on which we -were and from the one beneath. My guide stopped and looked about -her like one who is at her wit's end. Then she threw open a door -which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the moon -was shining brightly. -"'It is your only chance,' said she. 'It is high, but it may be -that you can jump it.' -"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the -passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark -rushing forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a -butcher's cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, -flung open the window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and -wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not be -more than thirty feet down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I -hesitated to jump until I should have heard what passed between -my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were illused, -then at any risks I was determined to go back to her assistance. -The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at -the door, pushing his way past her but she threw her arms round -him and tried to hold him back. -"'Fritz Fritz' she cried in English, 'remember your promise -after the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be -silent Oh, he will be silent' -"'You are mad, Elise' he shouted, struggling to break away from -her. 'You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me -pass, I say' He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the -window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and -was hanging by the hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was -conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the -garden below. -"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall so I picked myself up and -rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I -understood that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, -however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. -I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and -then, for the first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and -that the blood was pouring from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my -handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my -ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the -rosebushes. -"How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been -a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was -breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with -dew, and my coatsleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded -thumb. The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the -particulars of my night's adventure, and I sprang to my feet with -the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But -to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house -nor garden were to be seen. I had been lying in an angle of the -hedge close by the highroad, and just a little lower down was a -long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the -very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. Were -it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed -during those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream. -"Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning -train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The -same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I -arrived. I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel -Lysander Stark. The name was strange to him. Had he observed a -carriage the night before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was -there a policestation anywhere near? There was one about three -miles off. -"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined -to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the -police. It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first -to have my wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to -bring me along here. I put the case into your hands and shall do -exactly what you advise." -We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to -this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down -from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he -placed his cuttings. -"Here is an advertisement which will interest you," said he. "It -appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this -'Lost, on the th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged -twentysix, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten -o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since. Was -dressed in,' etc., etc. Ha That represents the last time that -the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy." -"Good heavens" cried my patient. "Then that explains what the -girl said." -"Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and -desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should -stand in the way of his little game, like those outandout -pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, -every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall -go down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for -Eyford." -Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train -together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. -There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector -Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plainclothes man, and myself. -Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the -seat and was busy with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford -for its centre. -"There you are," said he. "That circle is drawn at a radius of -ten miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere -near that line. You said ten miles, I think, sir." -"It was an hour's good drive." -"And you think that they brought you back all that way when you -were unconscious?" -"They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having -been lifted and conveyed somewhere." -"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why they should have -spared you when they found you lying fainting in the garden. -Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman's entreaties." -"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face -in my life." -"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said Bradstreet. "Well, I -have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon -it the folk that we are in search of are to be found." -"I think I could lay my finger on it," said Holmes quietly. -"Really, now" cried the inspector, "you have formed your -opinion Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is -south, for the country is more deserted there." -"And I say east," said my patient. -"I am for west," remarked the plainclothes man. "There are -several quiet little villages up there." -"And I am for north," said I, "because there are no hills there, -and our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up -any." -"Come," cried the inspector, laughing "it's a very pretty -diversity of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do -you give your casting vote to?" -"You are all wrong." -"But we can't all be." -"Oh, yes, you can. This is my point." He placed his finger in the -centre of the circle. "This is where we shall find them." -"But the twelvemile drive?" gasped Hatherley. -"Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the -horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that -if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads?" -"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough," observed Bradstreet -thoughtfully. "Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature -of this gang." -"None at all," said Holmes. "They are coiners on a large scale, -and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the -place of silver." -"We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work," -said the inspector. "They have been turning out halfcrowns by -the thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could -get no farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that -showed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this -lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough." -But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not -destined to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into -Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed -up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and -hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape. -"A house on fire?" asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off -again on its way. -"Yes, sir" said the stationmaster. -"When did it break out?" -"I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, -and the whole place is in a blaze." -"Whose house is it?" -"Dr. Becher's." -"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr. Becher a German, very -thin, with a long, sharp nose?" -The stationmaster laughed heartily. "No, sir, Dr. Becher is an -Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a -betterlined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, -a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as -if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm." -The stationmaster had not finished his speech before we were all -hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low -hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in -front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in -the garden in front three fireengines were vainly striving to -keep the flames under. -"That's it" cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. "There is -the graveldrive, and there are the rosebushes where I lay. That -second window is the one that I jumped from." -"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon -them. There can be no question that it was your oillamp which, -when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, -though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to -observe it at the time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for -your friends of last night, though I very much fear that they are -a good hundred miles off by now." -And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this -no word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the -sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a -peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very -bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but -there all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes' -ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their -whereabouts. -The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements -which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a -newly severed human thumb upon a windowsill of the second floor. -About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and -they subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, -and the whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save -some twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of -the machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so -dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored -in an outhouse, but no coins were to be found, which may have -explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have been -already referred to. -How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to -the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained -forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a -very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two -persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other -unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the -silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his -companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out -of the way of danger. -"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return -once more to London, "it has been a pretty business for me I -have lost my thumb and I have lost a fiftyguinea fee, and what -have I gained?" -"Experience," said Holmes, laughing. "Indirectly it may be of -value, you know you have only to put it into words to gain the -reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your -existence." -X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR -The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have -long ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles -in which the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have -eclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn the -gossips away from this fouryearold drama. As I have reason to -believe, however, that the full facts have never been revealed to -the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had a -considerable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that no -memoir of him would be complete without some little sketch of -this remarkable episode. -It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I -was still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came -home from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table -waiting for him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weather -had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and -the Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs as -a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence. -With my body in one easychair and my legs upon another, I had -surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, -saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and -lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the -envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend's -noble correspondent could be. -"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered. -"Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a -fishmonger and a tidewaiter." -"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," he -answered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the more -interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social -summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie." -He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. -"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all." -"Not social, then?" -"No, distinctly professional." -"And from a noble client?" -"One of the highest in England." -"My dear fellow, I congratulate you." -"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my -client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his -case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be -wanting in this new investigation. You have been reading the -papers diligently of late, have you not?" -"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in -the corner. "I have had nothing else to do." -"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I -read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The -latter is always instructive. But if you have followed recent -events so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his -wedding?" -"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest." -"That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord -St. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn -over these papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter. -This is what he says -"'MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMESLord Backwater tells me that I -may place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I -have determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you -in reference to the very painful event which has occurred in -connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is -acting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees no -objection to your cooperation, and that he even thinks that -it might be of some assistance. I will call at four o'clock in -the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that -time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of -paramount importance. Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON.' -"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, -and the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink -upon the outer side of his right little finger," remarked Holmes -as he folded up the epistle. -"He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in an -hour." -"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon -the subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in -their order of time, while I take a glance as to who our client -is." He picked a redcovered volume from a line of books of -reference beside the mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting -down and flattening it out upon his knee. "'Lord Robert Walsingham -de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral.' Hum 'Arms -Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in .' -He's fortyone years of age, which is mature for marriage. Was -UnderSecretary for the colonies in a late administration. The -Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs. -They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on -the distaff side. Ha Well, there is nothing very instructive in -all this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something -more solid." -"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I, -"for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as -remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew -that you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked the -intrusion of other matters." -"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square -furniture van. That is quite cleared up nowthough, indeed, it -was obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of your -newspaper selections." -"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal -column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks -back 'A marriage has been arranged,' it says, 'and will, if -rumour is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert -St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty -Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San -Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.' That is all." -"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long, -thin legs towards the fire. -"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society -papers of the same week. Ah, here it is 'There will soon be a -call for protection in the marriage market, for the present -freetrade principle appears to tell heavily against our home -product. One by one the management of the noble houses of Great -Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from across -the Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the last -week to the list of the prizes which have been borne away by -these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself -for over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows, has -now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty -Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss -Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much -attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, -and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to -considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the -future. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has -been compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years, -and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the small -estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiress -is not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her to -make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a -British peeress.'" -"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning. -"Oh, yes plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Post -to say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it -would be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen -intimate friends would be invited, and that the party would -return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been -taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days laterthat is, on -Wednesday lastthere is a curt announcement that the wedding had -taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord -Backwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the notices -which appeared before the disappearance of the bride." -"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start. -"The vanishing of the lady." -"When did she vanish, then?" -"At the wedding breakfast." -"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be quite -dramatic, in fact." -"Yes it struck me as being a little out of the common." -"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during -the honeymoon but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt -as this. Pray let me have the details." -"I warn you that they are very incomplete." -"Perhaps we may make them less so." -"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a -morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is -headed, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding' -"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the -greatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes which -have taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as -shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the -previous morning but it is only now that it has been possible to -confirm the strange rumours which have been so persistently -floating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush -the matter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it -that no good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what -is a common subject for conversation. -"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, Hanover -Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the -father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, -Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon the -younger brother and sister of the bridegroom, and Lady Alicia -Whittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house of -Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been -prepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by a -woman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured to -force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging -that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after a -painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler -and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the house -before this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast -with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and -retired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused some -comment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid that -she had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an -ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of the -footmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thus -apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress, -believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that his -daughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with -the bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication with -the police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, which -will probably result in a speedy clearing up of this very -singular business. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing -had transpired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. There -are rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that the -police have caused the arrest of the woman who had caused the -original disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or some -other motive, she may have been concerned in the strange -disappearance of the bride.'" -"And is that all?" -"Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is -a suggestive one." -"And it is" -"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, -has actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a -danseuse at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom -for some years. There are no further particulars, and the whole -case is in your hands nowso far as it has been set forth in the -public press." -"And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would -not have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, -Watson, and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I -have no doubt that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not -dream of going, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, -if only as a check to my own memory." -"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our pageboy, throwing open -the door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, -highnosed and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about -the mouth, and with the steady, wellopened eye of a man whose -pleasant lot it had ever been to command and to be obeyed. His -manner was brisk, and yet his general appearance gave an undue -impression of age, for he had a slight forward stoop and a little -bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept off -his very curlybrimmed hat, was grizzled round the edges and thin -upon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the verge of -foppishness, with high collar, black frockcoat, white waistcoat, -yellow gloves, patentleather shoes, and lightcoloured gaiters. -He advanced slowly into the room, turning his head from left to -right, and swinging in his right hand the cord which held his -golden eyeglasses. -"Goodday, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Pray -take the basketchair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. -Watson. Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this -matter over." -"A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, -Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you -have already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, -though I presume that they were hardly from the same class of -society." -"No, I am descending." -"I beg pardon." -"My last client of the sort was a king." -"Oh, really I had no idea. And which king?" -"The King of Scandinavia." -"What Had he lost his wife?" -"You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to the -affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to -you in yours." -"Of course Very right very right I'm sure I beg pardon. As to -my own case, I am ready to give you any information which may -assist you in forming an opinion." -"Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public -prints, nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct -this article, for example, as to the disappearance of the bride." -Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as it -goes." -"But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could -offer an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most -directly by questioning you." -"Pray do so." -"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?" -"In San Francisco, a year ago." -"You were travelling in the States?" -"Yes." -"Did you become engaged then?" -"No." -"But you were on a friendly footing?" -"I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was -amused." -"Her father is very rich?" -"He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope." -"And how did he make his money?" -"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold, -invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds." -"Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady'syour -wife's character?" -The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down -into the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was -twenty before her father became a rich man. During that time she -ran free in a mining camp and wandered through woods or -mountains, so that her education has come from Nature rather than -from the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England a tomboy, -with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by any sort of -traditions. She is impetuousvolcanic, I was about to say. She -is swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out her -resolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the -name which I have the honour to bear"he gave a little stately -cough"had not I thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I -believe that she is capable of heroic selfsacrifice and that -anything dishonourable would be repugnant to her." -"Have you her photograph?" -"I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us the -full face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an -ivory miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect -of the lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the -exquisite mouth. Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he -closed the locket and handed it back to Lord St. Simon. -"The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your -acquaintance?" -"Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I -met her several times, became engaged to her, and have now -married her." -"She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?" -"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family." -"And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a -fait accompli?" -"I really have made no inquiries on the subject." -"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the -wedding?" -"Yes." -"Was she in good spirits?" -"Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our -future lives." -"Indeed That is very interesting. And on the morning of the -wedding?" -"She was as bright as possibleat least until after the -ceremony." -"And did you observe any change in her then?" -"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had -ever seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident -however, was too trivial to relate and can have no possible -bearing upon the case." -"Pray let us have it, for all that." -"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards -the vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it -fell over into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the -gentleman in the pew handed it up to her again, and it did not -appear to be the worse for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of -the matter, she answered me abruptly and in the carriage, on our -way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over this trifling cause." -"Indeed You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of -the general public were present, then?" -"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is -open." -"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?" -"No, no I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a -commonlooking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But -really I think that we are wandering rather far from the point." -"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less -cheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do -on reentering her father's house?" -"I saw her in conversation with her maid." -"And who is her maid?" -"Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California -with her." -"A confidential servant?" -"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed -her to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they -look upon these things in a different way." -"How long did she speak to this Alice?" -"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of." -"You did not overhear what they said?" -"Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She was -accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she -meant." -"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your -wife do when she finished speaking to her maid?" -"She walked into the breakfastroom." -"On your arm?" -"No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. -Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose -hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She -never came back." -"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to -her room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a -bonnet, and went out." -"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in -company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who -had already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that -morning." -"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, -and your relations to her." -Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. -"We have been on a friendly footing for some yearsI may say on -a very friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have -not treated her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of -complaint against me, but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. -Flora was a dear little thing, but exceedingly hotheaded and -devotedly attached to me. She wrote me dreadful letters when she -heard that I was about to be married, and, to tell the truth, the -reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was that I -feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came to -Mr. Doran's door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to -push her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards my -wife, and even threatening her, but I had foreseen the -possibility of something of the sort, and I had two police -fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again. -She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a -row." -"Did your wife hear all this?" -"No, thank goodness, she did not." -"And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?" -"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as -so serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid -some terrible trap for her." -"Well, it is a possible supposition." -"You think so, too?" -"I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon -this as likely?" -"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly." -"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray -what is your own theory as to what took place?" -"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I -have given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may -say that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of -this affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense a -social stride, had the effect of causing some little nervous -disturbance in my wife." -"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?" -"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her backI -will not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to -without successI can hardly explain it in any other fashion." -"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said -Holmes, smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have -nearly all my data. May I ask whether you were seated at the -breakfasttable so that you could see out of the window?" -"We could see the other side of the road and the Park." -"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. -I shall communicate with you." -"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said our -client, rising. -"I have solved it." -"Eh? What was that?" -"I say that I have solved it." -"Where, then, is my wife?" -"That is a detail which I shall speedily supply." -Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will take -wiser heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a -stately, oldfashioned manner he departed. -"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting -it on a level with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I -think that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all -this crossquestioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the -case before our client came into the room." -"My dear Holmes" -"I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I -remarked before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination -served to turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial -evidence is occasionally very convincing, as when you find a -trout in the milk, to quote Thoreau's example." -"But I have heard all that you have heard." -"Without, however, the knowledge of preexisting cases which -serves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some -years back, and something on very much the same lines at Munich -the year after the FrancoPrussian War. It is one of these -casesbut, hullo, here is Lestrade Goodafternoon, Lestrade -You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are -cigars in the box." -The official detective was attired in a peajacket and cravat, -which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a -black canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated -himself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him. -"What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "You -look dissatisfied." -"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage -case. I can make neither head nor tail of the business." -"Really You surprise me." -"Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slip -through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day." -"And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes laying his -hand upon the arm of the peajacket. -"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine." -"In heaven's name, what for?" -"In search of the body of Lady St. Simon." -Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. -"Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" he -asked. -"Why? What do you mean?" -"Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in -the one as in the other." -Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose you -know all about it," he snarled. -"Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up." -"Oh, indeed Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in -the matter?" -"I think it very unlikely." -"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found -this in it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the -floor a weddingdress of watered silk, a pair of white satin -shoes and a bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked -in water. "There," said he, putting a new weddingring upon the -top of the pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master -Holmes." -"Oh, indeed" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. -"You dragged them from the Serpentine?" -"No. They were found floating near the margin by a parkkeeper. -They have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me -that if the clothes were there the body would not be far off." -"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found -in the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope -to arrive at through this?" -"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance." -"I am afraid that you will find it difficult." -"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I -am afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your -deductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as -many minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar." -"And how?" -"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a cardcase. In the -cardcase is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it -down upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this 'You will -see me when all is ready. Come at once. F.H.M.' Now my theory all -along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora -Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was -responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her -initials, is the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped -into her hand at the door and which lured her within their -reach." -"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are -very fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a -listless way, but his attention instantly became riveted, and he -gave a little cry of satisfaction. "This is indeed important," -said he. -"Ha you find it so?" -"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly." -Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," he -shrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side" -"On the contrary, this is the right side." -"The right side? You're mad Here is the note written in pencil -over here." -"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel -bill, which interests me deeply." -"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade. -"'Oct. th, rooms s., breakfast s. d., cocktail s., lunch s. -d., glass sherry, d.' I see nothing in that." -"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the -note, it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I -congratulate you again." -"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in -hard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. -Goodday, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom -of the matter first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them -into the bag, and made for the door. -"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival -vanished "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady -St. Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any -such person." -Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, -tapped his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and -hurried away. -He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on -his overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about -outdoor work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must -leave you to your papers for a little." -It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had -no time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a -confectioner's man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked -with the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, and -presently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicurean -little cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble -lodginghouse mahogany. There were a couple of brace of cold -woodcock, a pheasant, a pt de foie gras pie with a group of -ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries, -my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian -Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been paid -for and were ordered to this address. -Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the -room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his -eye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his -conclusions. -"They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands. -"You seem to expect company. They have laid for five." -"Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in," said he. "I -am surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha I -fancy that I hear his step now upon the stairs." -It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, -dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very -perturbed expression upon his aristocratic features. -"My messenger reached you, then?" asked Holmes. -"Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. -Have you good authority for what you say?" -"The best possible." -Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his -forehead. -"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one of -the family has been subjected to such humiliation?" -"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any -humiliation." -"Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint." -"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the -lady could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of -doing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she -had no one to advise her at such a crisis." -"It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said Lord St. Simon, -tapping his fingers upon the table. -"You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in so -unprecedented a position." -"I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have -been shamefully used." -"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are steps -on the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view -of the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here -who may be more successful." He opened the door and ushered in a -lady and gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me to -introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I -think, you have already met." -At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his -seat and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand -thrust into the breast of his frockcoat, a picture of offended -dignity. The lady had taken a quick step forward and had held out -her hand to him, but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was -as well for his resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face was -one which it was hard to resist. -"You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have every -cause to be." -"Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St. Simon bitterly. -"Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I -should have spoken to you before I went but I was kind of -rattled, and from the time when I saw Frank here again I just -didn't know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I didn't -fall down and do a faint right there before the altar." -"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave -the room while you explain this matter?" -"If I may give an opinion," remarked the strange gentleman, -"we've had just a little too much secrecy over this business -already. For my part, I should like all Europe and America to -hear the rights of it." He was a small, wiry, sunburnt man, -cleanshaven, with a sharp face and alert manner. -"Then I'll tell our story right away," said the lady. "Frank here -and I met in ', in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pa -was working a claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I -but then one day father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, -while poor Frank here had a claim that petered out and came to -nothing. The richer pa grew the poorer was Frank so at last pa -wouldn't hear of our engagement lasting any longer, and he took -me away to 'Frisco. Frank wouldn't throw up his hand, though so -he followed me there, and he saw me without pa knowing anything -about it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we just -fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and -make his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had -as much as pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the end of -time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he lived. -'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and -then I will feel sure of you and I won't claim to be your -husband until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had -fixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, -that we just did it right there and then Frank went off to seek -his fortune, and I went back to pa. -"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then -he went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New -Mexico. After that came a long newspaper story about how a -miners' camp had been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was -my Frank's name among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was -very sick for months after. Pa thought I had a decline and took -me to half the doctors in 'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a -year and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was really -dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to 'Frisco, and we came to London, -and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I felt -all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the place -in my heart that had been given to my poor Frank. -"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done -my duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our -actions. I went to the altar with him with the intention to make -him just as good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may -imagine what I felt when, just as I came to the altar rails, I -glanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me out of the -first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first but when I looked -again there he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, as -if to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I -didn't drop. I know that everything was turning round, and the -words of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee in my -ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the service and make -a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed to -know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to -tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper, -and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on -the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the -note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a -line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. -Of course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now -to him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct. -"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, -and had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but -to get a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to -have spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before -his mother and all those great people. I just made up my mind to -run away and explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten -minutes before I saw Frank out of the window at the other side of -the road. He beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. -I slipped out, put on my things, and followed him. Some woman -came talking something or other about Lord St. Simon to -meseemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little -secret of his own before marriage alsobut I managed to get away -from her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, and -away we drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and -that was my true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank -had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to -'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead and had gone to -England, followed me there, and had come upon me at last on the -very morning of my second wedding." -"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name -and the church but not where the lady lived." -"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all -for openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I -should like to vanish away and never see any of them againjust -sending a line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It -was awful to me to think of all those lords and ladies sitting -round that breakfasttable and waiting for me to come back. So -Frank took my weddingclothes and things and made a bundle of -them, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them away -somewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that we -should have gone on to Paris tomorrow, only that this good -gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how -he found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very -clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and -that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we were so -secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to Lord -St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at -once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if -I have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very -meanly of me." -Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but -had listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this -long narrative. -"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most -intimate personal affairs in this public manner." -"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?" -"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out -his hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him. -"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us -in a friendly supper." -"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his -Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent -developments, but I can hardly be expected to make merry over -them. I think that with your permission I will now wish you all a -very goodnight." He included us all in a sweeping bow and -stalked out of the room. -"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your -company," said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an -American, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the -folly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in fargone -years will not prevent our children from being some day citizens -of the same worldwide country under a flag which shall be a -quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes." -"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our -visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how -simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight -seems to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural -than the sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing -stranger than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. -Lestrade of Scotland Yard." -"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?" -"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that -the lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, -the other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of -returning home. Obviously something had occurred during the -morning, then, to cause her to change her mind. What could that -something be? She could not have spoken to anyone when she was -out, for she had been in the company of the bridegroom. Had she -seen someone, then? If she had, it must be someone from America -because she had spent so short a time in this country that she -could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep an influence -over her that the mere sight of him would induce her to change -her plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by a -process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have seen an -American. Then who could this American be, and why should he -possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover it might -be a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in -rough scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got -before I ever heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us -of a man in a pew, of the change in the bride's manner, of so -transparent a device for obtaining a note as the dropping of a -bouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and of her very -significant allusion to claimjumpingwhich in miners' parlance -means taking possession of that which another person has a prior -claim tothe whole situation became absolutely clear. She had -gone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was a -previous husbandthe chances being in favour of the latter." -"And how in the world did you find them?" -"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held -information in his hands the value of which he did not himself -know. The initials were, of course, of the highest importance, -but more valuable still was it to know that within a week he had -settled his bill at one of the most select London hotels." -"How did you deduce the select?" -"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence -for a glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive -hotels. There are not many in London which charge at that rate. -In the second one which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I -learned by an inspection of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an -American gentleman, had left only the day before, and on looking -over the entries against him, I came upon the very items which I -had seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were to be forwarded -to Gordon Square so thither I travelled, and being fortunate -enough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to give them -some paternal advice and to point out to them that it would be -better in every way that they should make their position a little -clearer both to the general public and to Lord St. Simon in -particular. I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, I -made him keep the appointment." -"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct was -certainly not very gracious." -"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be -very gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and -wedding, you found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of -fortune. I think that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully -and thank our stars that we are never likely to find ourselves in -the same position. Draw your chair up and hand me my violin, for -the only problem we have still to solve is how to while away -these bleak autumnal evenings." -XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET -"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bowwindow looking -down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather -sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone." -My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands -in the pockets of his dressinggown, looking over my shoulder. It -was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day -before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the -wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed -into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and -on the heapedup edges of the footpaths it still lay as white as -when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but -was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer -passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the -Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman -whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. -He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a -massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was -dressed in a sombre yet rich style, in black frockcoat, shining -hat, neat brown gaiters, and wellcut pearlgrey trousers. Yet -his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress -and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little -springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to -set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up and -down, waggled his head, and writhed his face into the most -extraordinary contortions. -"What on earth can be the matter with him?" I asked. "He is -looking up at the numbers of the houses." -"I believe that he is coming here," said Holmes, rubbing his -hands. -"Here?" -"Yes I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I -think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha did I not tell you?" As -he spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and -pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the -clanging. -A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still -gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in -his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and -pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his -body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the -extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his -feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we -both rushed upon him and tore him away to the centre of the room. -Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the easychair and, sitting -beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, -soothing tones which he knew so well how to employ. -"You have come to me to tell your story, have you not?" said he. -"You are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have -recovered yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into -any little problem which you may submit to me." -The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting -against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his -brow, set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us. -"No doubt you think me mad?" said he. -"I see that you have had some great trouble," responded Holmes. -"God knows I havea trouble which is enough to unseat my -reason, so sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might -have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet -borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man -but the two coming together, and in so frightful a form, have -been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. -The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found -out of this horrible affair." -"Pray compose yourself, sir," said Holmes, "and let me have a -clear account of who you are and what it is that has befallen -you." -"My name," answered our visitor, "is probably familiar to your -ears. I am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder -Stevenson, of Threadneedle Street." -The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior -partner in the second largest private banking concern in the City -of London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the -foremost citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? We -waited, all curiosity, until with another effort he braced -himself to tell his story. -"I feel that time is of value," said he "that is why I hastened -here when the police inspector suggested that I should secure -your cooperation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and -hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this -snow. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who -takes very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the -facts before you as shortly and yet as clearly as I can. -"It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking -business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative -investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection -and the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means -of laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security -is unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction -during the last few years, and there are many noble families to -whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their -pictures, libraries, or plate. -"Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a -card was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I -saw the name, for it was that of none other thanwell, perhaps -even to you I had better say no more than that it was a name -which is a household word all over the earthone of the highest, -noblest, most exalted names in England. I was overwhelmed by the -honour and attempted, when he entered, to say so, but he plunged -at once into business with the air of a man who wishes to hurry -quickly through a disagreeable task. -"'Mr. Holder,' said he, 'I have been informed that you are in the -habit of advancing money.' -"'The firm does so when the security is good.' I answered. -"'It is absolutely essential to me,' said he, 'that I should have -, pounds at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a -sum ten times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it -a matter of business and to carry out that business myself. In my -position you can readily understand that it is unwise to place -one's self under obligations.' -"'For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum?' I asked. -"'Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most -certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you -think it right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the -money should be paid at once.' -"'I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my -own private purse,' said I, 'were it not that the strain would be -rather more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do -it in the name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must -insist that, even in your case, every businesslike precaution -should be taken.' -"'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a -square, black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. -'You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?' -"'One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,' -said I. -"'Precisely.' He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft, -fleshcoloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery -which he had named. 'There are thirtynine enormous beryls,' said -he, 'and the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The -lowest estimate would put the worth of the coronet at double the -sum which I have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my -security.' -"I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some -perplexity from it to my illustrious client. -"'You doubt its value?' he asked. -"'Not at all. I only doubt' -"'The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest -about that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely -certain that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a -pure matter of form. Is the security sufficient?' -"'Ample.' -"'You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof -of the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I -have heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to -refrain from all gossip upon the matter but, above all, to -preserve this coronet with every possible precaution because I -need not say that a great public scandal would be caused if any -harm were to befall it. Any injury to it would be almost as -serious as its complete loss, for there are no beryls in the -world to match these, and it would be impossible to replace them. -I leave it with you, however, with every confidence, and I shall -call for it in person on Monday morning.' -"Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but, -calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty -pound notes. When I was alone once more, however, with the -precious case lying upon the table in front of me, I could not -but think with some misgivings of the immense responsibility -which it entailed upon me. There could be no doubt that, as it -was a national possession, a horrible scandal would ensue if any -misfortune should occur to it. I already regretted having ever -consented to take charge of it. However, it was too late to alter -the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned -once more to my work. -"When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave -so precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers' safes had -been forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how -terrible would be the position in which I should find myself I -determined, therefore, that for the next few days I would always -carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might -never be really out of my reach. With this intention, I called a -cab and drove out to my house at Streatham, carrying the jewel -with me. I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs -and locked it in the bureau of my dressingroom. -"And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to -thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep -out of the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three -maidservants who have been with me a number of years and whose -absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy -Parr, the second waitingmaid, has only been in my service a few -months. She came with an excellent character, however, and has -always given me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has -attracted admirers who have occasionally hung about the place. -That is the only drawback which we have found to her, but we -believe her to be a thoroughly good girl in every way. -"So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it -will not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an -only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. -Holmesa grievous disappointment. I have no doubt that I am -myself to blame. People tell me that I have spoiled him. Very -likely I have. When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I -had to love. I could not bear to see the smile fade even for a -moment from his face. I have never denied him a wish. Perhaps it -would have been better for both of us had I been sterner, but I -meant it for the best. -"It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my -business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, -wayward, and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the -handling of large sums of money. When he was young he became a -member of an aristocratic club, and there, having charming -manners, he was soon the intimate of a number of men with long -purses and expensive habits. He learned to play heavily at cards -and to squander money on the turf, until he had again and again -to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his -allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried -more than once to break away from the dangerous company which he -was keeping, but each time the influence of his friend, Sir -George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back again. -"And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George -Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently -brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could -hardly resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than -Arthur, a man of the world to his fingertips, one who had been -everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of -great personal beauty. Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far -away from the glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his -cynical speech and the look which I have caught in his eyes that -he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, and so, -too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman's quick insight into -character. -"And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece but -when my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the -world I adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my -daughter. She is a sunbeam in my housesweet, loving, beautiful, -a wonderful manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and -gentle as a woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know -what I could do without her. In only one matter has she ever gone -against my wishes. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for -he loves her devotedly, but each time she has refused him. I -think that if anyone could have drawn him into the right path it -would have been she, and that his marriage might have changed his -whole life but now, alas it is too lateforever too late -"Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and -I shall continue with my miserable story. -"When we were taking coffee in the drawingroom that night after -dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious -treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name -of my client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am -sure, left the room but I cannot swear that the door was closed. -Mary and Arthur were much interested and wished to see the famous -coronet, but I thought it better not to disturb it. -"'Where have you put it?' asked Arthur. -"'In my own bureau.' -"'Well, I hope to goodness the house won't be burgled during the -night.' said he. -"'It is locked up,' I answered. -"'Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I -have opened it myself with the key of the boxroom cupboard.' -"He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of -what he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with -a very grave face. -"'Look here, dad,' said he with his eyes cast down, 'can you let -me have pounds?' -"'No, I cannot' I answered sharply. 'I have been far too -generous with you in money matters.' -"'You have been very kind,' said he, 'but I must have this money, -or else I can never show my face inside the club again.' -"'And a very good thing, too' I cried. -"'Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man,' -said he. 'I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money -in some way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try -other means.' -"I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the -month. 'You shall not have a farthing from me,' I cried, on which -he bowed and left the room without another word. -"When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my -treasure was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go -round the house to see that all was securea duty which I -usually leave to Mary but which I thought it well to perform -myself that night. As I came down the stairs I saw Mary herself -at the side window of the hall, which she closed and fastened as -I approached. -"'Tell me, dad,' said she, looking, I thought, a little -disturbed, 'did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out -tonight?' -"'Certainly not.' -"'She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she -has only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that -it is hardly safe and should be stopped.' -"'You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer -it. Are you sure that everything is fastened?' -"'Quite sure, dad.' -"'Then, goodnight.' I kissed her and went up to my bedroom -again, where I was soon asleep. -"I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may -have any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question -me upon any point which I do not make clear." -"On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid." -"I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be -particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety -in my mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. -About two in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in -the house. It had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an -impression behind it as though a window had gently closed -somewhere. I lay listening with all my ears. Suddenly, to my -horror, there was a distinct sound of footsteps moving softly in -the next room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating with fear, -and peeped round the corner of my dressingroom door. -"'Arthur' I screamed, 'you villain you thief How dare you -touch that coronet?' -"The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, -dressed only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the -light, holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be -wrenching at it, or bending it with all his strength. At my cry -he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I -snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with -three of the beryls in it, was missing. -"'You blackguard' I shouted, beside myself with rage. 'You have -destroyed it You have dishonoured me forever Where are the -jewels which you have stolen?' -"'Stolen' he cried. -"'Yes, thief' I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. -"'There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,' said he. -"'There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I -call you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to -tear off another piece?' -"'You have called me names enough,' said he, 'I will not stand it -any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, -since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in -the morning and make my own way in the world.' -"'You shall leave it in the hands of the police' I cried -halfmad with grief and rage. 'I shall have this matter probed to -the bottom.' -"'You shall learn nothing from me,' said he with a passion such -as I should not have thought was in his nature. 'If you choose to -call the police, let the police find what they can.' -"By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my -voice in my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, -at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the -whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the -ground. I sent the housemaid for the police and put the -investigation into their hands at once. When the inspector and a -constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood sullenly with -his arms folded, asked me whether it was my intention to charge -him with theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a private -matter, but had become a public one, since the ruined coronet was -national property. I was determined that the law should have its -way in everything. -"'At least,' said he, 'you will not have me arrested at once. It -would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the -house for five minutes.' -"'That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you -have stolen,' said I. And then, realising the dreadful position -in which I was placed, I implored him to remember that not only -my honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at -stake and that he threatened to raise a scandal which would -convulse the nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell -me what he had done with the three missing stones. -"'You may as well face the matter,' said I 'you have been caught -in the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. -If you but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling -us where the beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.' -"'Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,' he answered, -turning away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened -for any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for -it. I called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search -was made at once not only of his person but of his room and of -every portion of the house where he could possibly have concealed -the gems but no trace of them could be found, nor would the -wretched boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and our -threats. This morning he was removed to a cell, and I, after -going through all the police formalities, have hurried round to -you to implore you to use your skill in unravelling the matter. -The police have openly confessed that they can at present make -nothing of it. You may go to any expense which you think -necessary. I have already offered a reward of pounds. My -God, what shall I do I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son -in one night. Oh, what shall I do" -He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to -and fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got -beyond words. -Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows -knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire. -"Do you receive much company?" he asked. -"None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of -Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No -one else, I think." -"Do you go out much in society?" -"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for -it." -"That is unusual in a young girl." -"She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She -is fourandtwenty." -"This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to -her also." -"Terrible She is even more affected than I." -"You have neither of you any doubt as to your son's guilt?" -"How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet -in his hands." -"I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of -the coronet at all injured?" -"Yes, it was twisted." -"Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to -straighten it?" -"God bless you You are doing what you can for him and for me. -But it is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If -his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so?" -"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? -His silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several -singular points about the case. What did the police think of the -noise which awoke you from your sleep?" -"They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his -bedroom door." -"A likely story As if a man bent on felony would slam his door -so as to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the -disappearance of these gems?" -"They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture -in the hope of finding them." -"Have they thought of looking outside the house?" -"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has -already been minutely examined." -"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes. "is it not obvious to you now -that this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you -or the police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you -to be a simple case to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider -what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came -down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your dressingroom, -opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main -force a small portion of it, went off to some other place, -concealed three gems out of the thirtynine, with such skill that -nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirtysix -into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger -of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable?" -"But what other is there?" cried the banker with a gesture of -despair. "If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain -them?" -"It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes "so now, if -you please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, -and devote an hour to glancing a little more closely into -details." -My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, -which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy -were deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I -confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be -as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such -faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some -grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted -explanation. He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the -southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his -hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Our client -appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope -which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a -desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway -journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest -residence of the great financier. -Fairbank was a goodsized square house of white stone, standing -back a little from the road. A double carriagesweep, with a -snowclad lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates -which closed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden -thicket, which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges -stretching from the road to the kitchen door, and forming the -tradesmen's entrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the -stables, and was not itself within the grounds at all, being a -public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us standing -at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the -front, down the tradesmen's path, and so round by the garden -behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I -went into the diningroom and waited by the fire until he should -return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and -a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle height, -slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against -the absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever -seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were -bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept -silently into the room she impressed me with a greater sense of -grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the -more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong -character, with immense capacity for selfrestraint. Disregarding -my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand -over his head with a sweet womanly caress. -"You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you -not, dad?" she asked. -"No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom." -"But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's -instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will -be sorry for having acted so harshly." -"Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?" -"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should -suspect him." -"How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with -the coronet in his hand?" -"Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take -my word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say -no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in -prison" -"I shall never let it drop until the gems are foundnever, Mary -Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences -to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman -down from London to inquire more deeply into it." -"This gentleman?" she asked, facing round to me. -"No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in -the stable lane now." -"The stable lane?" She raised her dark eyebrows. "What can he -hope to find there? Ah this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, -that you will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, -that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime." -"I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may -prove it," returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the -snow from his shoes. "I believe I have the honour of addressing -Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?" -"Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up." -"You heard nothing yourself last night?" -"Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard -that, and I came down." -"You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you -fasten all the windows?" -"Yes." -"Were they all fastened this morning?" -"Yes." -"You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked -to your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?" -"Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawingroom, and -who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet." -"I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her -sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery." -"But what is the good of all these vague theories," cried the -banker impatiently, "when I have told you that I saw Arthur with -the coronet in his hands?" -"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this -girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I -presume?" -"Yes when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I -met her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom." -"Do you know him?" -"Oh, yes he is the greengrocer who brings our vegetables round. -His name is Francis Prosper." -"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the doorthat is to -say, farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door?" -"Yes, he did." -"And he is a man with a wooden leg?" -Something like fear sprang up in the young lady's expressive -black eyes. "Why, you are like a magician," said she. "How do you -know that?" She smiled, but there was no answering smile in -Holmes' thin, eager face. -"I should be very glad now to go upstairs," said he. "I shall -probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps -I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up." -He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at -the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. -This he opened and made a very careful examination of the sill -with his powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs," -said he at last. -The banker's dressingroom was a plainly furnished little -chamber, with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. -Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock. -"Which key was used to open it?" he asked. -"That which my son himself indicatedthat of the cupboard of the -lumberroom." -"Have you it here?" -"That is it on the dressingtable." -Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau. -"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no wonder that it did -not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must -have a look at it." He opened the case, and taking out the diadem -he laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the -jeweller's art, and the thirtysix stones were the finest that I -have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, -where a corner holding three gems had been torn away. -"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the corner which -corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I -beg that you will break it off." -The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not dream of trying," -said he. -"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but -without result. "I feel it give a little," said he "but, though -I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my -time to break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do -you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would -be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this -happened within a few yards of your bed and that you heard -nothing of it?" -"I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me." -"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think, -Miss Holder?" -"I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity." -"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?" -"He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt." -"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary -luck during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault -if we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your -permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations -outside." -He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any -unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an -hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet -heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever. -"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. -Holder," said he "I can serve you best by returning to my -rooms." -"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?" -"I cannot tell." -The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never see them again" he -cried. "And my son? You give me hopes?" -"My opinion is in no way altered." -"Then, for God's sake, what was this dark business which was -acted in my house last night?" -"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms tomorrow -morning between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to -make it clearer. I understand that you give me carte blanche to -act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you -place no limit on the sum I may draw." -"I would give my fortune to have them back." -"Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then. -Goodbye it is just possible that I may have to come over here -again before evening." -It was obvious to me that my companion's mind was now made up -about the case, although what his conclusions were was more than -I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward -journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always -glided away to some other topic, until at last I gave it over in -despair. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our -rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in -a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned -up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he -was a perfect sample of the class. -"I think that this should do," said he, glancing into the glass -above the fireplace. "I only wish that you could come with me, -Watson, but I fear that it won't do. I may be on the trail in -this matter, or I may be following a willo'thewisp, but I -shall soon know which it is. I hope that I may be back in a few -hours." He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard, -sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this -rude meal into his pocket he started off upon his expedition. -I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in -excellent spirits, swinging an old elasticsided boot in his -hand. He chucked it down into a corner and helped himself to a -cup of tea. -"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I am going right on." -"Where to?" -"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time -before I get back. Don't wait up for me in case I should be -late." -"How are you getting on?" -"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham -since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a -very sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a -good deal. However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get -these disreputable clothes off and return to my highly -respectable self." -I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for -satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, -and there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He -hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of -the hall door, which told me that he was off once more upon his -congenial hunt. -I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so -I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away -for days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that -his lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he -came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there -he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the -other, as fresh and trim as possible. -"You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson," said he, "but -you remember that our client has rather an early appointment this -morning." -"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I should not be -surprised if that were he. I thought I heard a ring." -It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the -change which had come over him, for his face which was naturally -of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, -while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered -with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than -his violence of the morning before, and he dropped heavily into -the armchair which I pushed forward for him. -"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said -he. "Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without -a care in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured -age. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece, -Mary, has deserted me." -"Deserted you?" -"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was -empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to -her last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had -married my boy all might have been well with him. Perhaps it was -thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that she refers -in this note -"'MY DEAREST UNCLEI feel that I have brought trouble upon you, -and that if I had acted differently this terrible misfortune -might never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought in my -mind, ever again be happy under your roof, and I feel that I must -leave you forever. Do not worry about my future, for that is -provided for and, above all, do not search for me, for it will -be fruitless labour and an illservice to me. In life or in -death, I am ever your loving,MARY.' -"What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it -points to suicide?" -"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible -solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of -your troubles." -"Ha You say so You have heard something, Mr. Holmes you have -learned something Where are the gems?" -"You would not think pounds apiece an excessive sum for -them?" -"I would pay ten." -"That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. -And there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your checkbook? -Here is a pen. Better make it out for pounds." -With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes -walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of -gold with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table. -With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up. -"You have it" he gasped. "I am saved I am saved" -The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and -he hugged his recovered gems to his bosom. -"There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock -Holmes rather sternly. -"Owe" He caught up a pen. "Name the sum, and I will pay it." -"No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that -noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I -should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to -have one." -"Then it was not Arthur who took them?" -"I told you yesterday, and I repeat today, that it was not." -"You are sure of it Then let us hurry to him at once to let him -know that the truth is known." -"He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an -interview with him, and finding that he would not tell me the -story, I told it to him, on which he had to confess that I was -right and to add the very few details which were not yet quite -clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open his -lips." -"For heaven's sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary -mystery" -"I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached -it. And let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me -to say and for you to hear there has been an understanding -between Sir George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now -fled together." -"My Mary? Impossible" -"It is unfortunately more than possible it is certain. Neither -you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you -admitted him into your family circle. He is one of the most -dangerous men in Englanda ruined gambler, an absolutely -desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece -knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he -had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she -alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said, -but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing -him nearly every evening." -"I cannot, and I will not, believe it" cried the banker with an -ashen face. -"I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night. -Your niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, -slipped down and talked to her lover through the window which -leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right -through the snow, so long had he stood there. She told him of the -coronet. His wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he -bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you, but -there are women in whom the love of a lover extinguishes all -other loves, and I think that she must have been one. She had -hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming -downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you -about one of the servants' escapade with her woodenlegged lover, -which was all perfectly true. -"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but -he slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. -In the middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, -so he rose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin -walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappeared -into your dressingroom. Petrified with astonishment, the lad -slipped on some clothes and waited there in the dark to see what -would come of this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the -room again, and in the light of the passagelamp your son saw -that she carried the precious coronet in her hands. She passed -down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror, ran along and -slipped behind the curtain near your door, whence he could see -what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the -window, hand out the coronet to someone in the gloom, and then -closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing quite close -to where he stood hid behind the curtain. -"As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action -without a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the -instant that she was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune -this would be for you, and how allimportant it was to set it -right. He rushed down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened -the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane, -where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George -Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was -a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one side of the -coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son -struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something -suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet -in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your -room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in -the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you -appeared upon the scene." -"Is it possible?" gasped the banker. -"You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when -he felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not -explain the true state of affairs without betraying one who -certainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He -took the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her -secret." -"And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the -coronet," cried Mr. Holder. "Oh, my God what a blind fool I have -been And his asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes -The dear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were at the -scene of the struggle. How cruelly I have misjudged him" -"When I arrived at the house," continued Holmes, "I at once went -very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in -the snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since -the evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost -to preserve impressions. I passed along the tradesmen's path, but -found it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, -however, at the far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood -and talked with a man, whose round impressions on one side showed -that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they had been -disturbed, for the woman had run back swiftly to the door, as was -shown by the deep toe and light heel marks, while Woodenleg had -waited a little, and then had gone away. I thought at the time -that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom you had -already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was so. I passed -round the garden without seeing anything more than random tracks, -which I took to be the police but when I got into the stable -lane a very long and complex story was written in the snow in -front of me. -"There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second -double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked -feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the -latter was your son. The first had walked both ways, but the -other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in places over -the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passed -after the other. I followed them up and found they led to the -hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away while -waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred -yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round, -where the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle, -and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me -that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and -another little smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been -hurt. When he came to the highroad at the other end, I found that -the pavement had been cleared, so there was an end to that clue. -"On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the -sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could -at once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the -outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming -in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what -had occurred. A man had waited outside the window someone had -brought the gems the deed had been overseen by your son he had -pursued the thief had struggled with him they had each tugged -at the coronet, their united strength causing injuries which -neither alone could have effected. He had returned with the -prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of his opponent. So -far I was clear. The question now was, who was the man and who -was it brought him the coronet? -"It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the -impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the -truth. Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down, -so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were -the maids, why should your son allow himself to be accused in -their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his -cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he should -retain her secretthe more so as the secret was a disgraceful -one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that window, and -how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again, my conjecture -became a certainty. -"And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, -for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must -feel to you? I knew that you went out little, and that your -circle of friends was a very limited one. But among them was Sir -George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as being a man of evil -reputation among women. It must have been he who wore those boots -and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew that Arthur -had discovered him, he might still flatter himself that he was -safe, for the lad could not say a word without compromising his -own family. -"Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took -next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George's house, -managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet, learned that -his master had cut his head the night before, and, finally, at -the expense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of -his castoff shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and -saw that they exactly fitted the tracks." -"I saw an illdressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening," -said Mr. Holder. -"Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home -and changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to -play then, for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert -scandal, and I knew that so astute a villain would see that our -hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him. At first, of -course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every -particular that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a -lifepreserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I -clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he -became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give -him a price for the stones he held pounds apiece. That -brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. 'Why, -dash it all' said he, 'I've let them go at six hundred for the -three' I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had -them, on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I -set to him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at -pounds apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all -was right, and eventually got to my bed about two o'clock, after -what I may call a really hard day's work." -"A day which has saved England from a great public scandal," said -the banker, rising. "Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but -you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your -skill has indeed exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I -must fly to my dear boy to apologise to him for the wrong which I -have done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my -very heart. Not even your skill can inform me where she is now." -"I think that we may safely say," returned Holmes, "that she is -wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that -whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than -sufficient punishment." -XII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES -"To the man who loves art for its own sake," remarked Sherlock -Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily -Telegraph, "it is frequently in its least important and lowliest -manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is -pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped -this truth that in these little records of our cases which you -have been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, -occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much -to the many causes clbres and sensational trials in which I -have figured but rather to those incidents which may have been -trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those -faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made -my special province." -"And yet," said I, smiling, "I cannot quite hold myself absolved -from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my -records." -"You have erred, perhaps," he observed, taking up a glowing -cinder with the tongs and lighting with it the long cherrywood -pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a -disputatious rather than a meditative mood"you have erred -perhaps in attempting to put colour and life into each of your -statements instead of confining yourself to the task of placing -upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is -really the only notable feature about the thing." -"It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter," -I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism -which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my -friend's singular character. -"No, it is not selfishness or conceit," said he, answering, as -was his wont, my thoughts rather than my words. "If I claim full -justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thinga -thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it -is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should -dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of -lectures into a series of tales." -It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after -breakfast on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at -Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of -duncoloured houses, and the opposing windows loomed like dark, -shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit -and shone on the white cloth and glimmer of china and metal, for -the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been -silent all the morning, dipping continuously into the -advertisement columns of a succession of papers until at last, -having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very -sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. -"At the same time," he remarked after a pause, during which he -had sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, -"you can hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of -these cases which you have been so kind as to interest yourself -in, a fair proportion do not treat of crime, in its legal sense, -at all. The small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King -of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the -problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the -incident of the noble bachelor, were all matters which are -outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding the sensational, I -fear that you may have bordered on the trivial." -"The end may have been so," I answered, "but the methods I hold -to have been novel and of interest." -"Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant -public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a -compositor by his left thumb, care about the finer shades of -analysis and deduction But, indeed, if you are trivial. I cannot -blame you, for the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at -least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As -to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an -agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to -young ladies from boardingschools. I think that I have touched -bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning marks my -zeropoint, I fancy. Read it" He tossed a crumpled letter across -to me. -It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and -ran thus -"DEAR MR. HOLMESI am very anxious to consult you as to whether -I should or should not accept a situation which has been offered -to me as governess. I shall call at halfpast ten tomorrow if I -do not inconvenience you. Yours faithfully, -"VIOLET HUNTER." -"Do you know the young lady?" I asked. -"Not I." -"It is halfpast ten now." -"Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring." -"It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You -remember that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to -be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. -It may be so in this case, also." -"Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, -for here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question." -As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. -She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, -freckled like a plover's egg, and with the brisk manner of a -woman who has had her own way to make in the world. -"You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure," said she, as my -companion rose to greet her, "but I have had a very strange -experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort -from whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be -kind enough to tell me what I should do." -"Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything -that I can to serve you." -I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner -and speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching -fashion, and then composed himself, with his lids drooping and -his fingertips together, to listen to her story. -"I have been a governess for five years," said she, "in the -family of Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colonel -received an appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and took his -children over to America with him, so that I found myself without -a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertisements, but -without success. At last the little money which I had saved began -to run short, and I was at my wit's end as to what I should do. -"There is a wellknown agency for governesses in the West End -called Westaway's, and there I used to call about once a week in -order to see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. -Westaway was the name of the founder of the business, but it is -really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, -and the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an anteroom, -and are then shown in one by one, when she consults her ledgers -and sees whether she has anything which would suit them. -"Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office -as usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A -prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy -chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at -her elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose, looking very -earnestly at the ladies who entered. As I came in he gave quite a -jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper. -"'That will do,' said he 'I could not ask for anything better. -Capital capital' He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his -hands together in the most genial fashion. He was such a -comfortablelooking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at -him. -"'You are looking for a situation, miss?' he asked. -"'Yes, sir.' -"'As governess?' -"'Yes, sir.' -"'And what salary do you ask?' -"'I had pounds a month in my last place with Colonel Spence -Munro.' -"'Oh, tut, tut sweatingrank sweating' he cried, throwing his -fat hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling -passion. 'How could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with -such attractions and accomplishments?' -"'My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,' said I. -'A little French, a little German, music, and drawing' -"'Tut, tut' he cried. 'This is all quite beside the question. -The point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment -of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are -not fitted for the rearing of a child who may some day play a -considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have -why, then, how could any gentleman ask you to condescend to -accept anything under the three figures? Your salary with me, -madam, would commence at pounds a year.' -"You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, -such an offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, -however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, -opened a pocketbook and took out a note. -"'It is also my custom,' said he, smiling in the most pleasant -fashion until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid -the white creases of his face, 'to advance to my young ladies -half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little -expenses of their journey and their wardrobe.' -"It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so -thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the -advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something -unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know -a little more before I quite committed myself. -"'May I ask where you live, sir?' said I. -"'Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles -on the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my -dear young lady, and the dearest old countryhouse.' -"'And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would -be.' -"'One childone dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if -you could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper Smack -smack smack Three gone before you could wink' He leaned back -in his chair and laughed his eyes into his head again. -"I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, -but the father's laughter made me think that perhaps he was -joking. -"'My sole duties, then,' I asked, 'are to take charge of a single -child?' -"'No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady,' he -cried. 'Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would -suggest, to obey any little commands my wife might give, provided -always that they were such commands as a lady might with -propriety obey. You see no difficulty, heh?' -"'I should be happy to make myself useful.' -"'Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you -knowfaddy but kindhearted. If you were asked to wear any dress -which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim. -Heh?' -"'No,' said I, considerably astonished at his words. -"'Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to -you?' -"'Oh, no.' -"'Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us?' -"I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, -my hair is somewhat luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of -chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of -sacrificing it in this offhand fashion. -"'I am afraid that that is quite impossible,' said I. He had been -watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a -shadow pass over his face as I spoke. -"'I am afraid that it is quite essential,' said he. 'It is a -little fancy of my wife's, and ladies' fancies, you know, madam, -ladies' fancies must be consulted. And so you won't cut your -hair?' -"'No, sir, I really could not,' I answered firmly. -"'Ah, very well then that quite settles the matter. It is a -pity, because in other respects you would really have done very -nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more -of your young ladies.' -"The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers -without a word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so -much annoyance upon her face that I could not help suspecting -that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal. -"'Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?' she asked. -"'If you please, Miss Stoper.' -"'Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the -most excellent offers in this fashion,' said she sharply. 'You -can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find another such -opening for you. Goodday to you, Miss Hunter.' She struck a gong -upon the table, and I was shown out by the page. -"Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found -little enough in the cupboard, and two or three bills upon the -table. I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very -foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and -expected obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were -at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few -governesses in England are getting pounds a year. Besides, -what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing -it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was -inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after -I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go -back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open -when I received this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it -here and I will read it to you -"'The Copper Beeches, near Winchester. -"'DEAR MISS HUNTERMiss Stoper has very kindly given me your -address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have -reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you -should come, for she has been much attracted by my description of -you. We are willing to give pounds a quarter, or pounds a -year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which -our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My -wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue and would -like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need -not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one -belonging to my dear daughter Alice now in Philadelphia, which -would, I should think, fit you very well. Then, as to sitting -here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner indicated, that -need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no -doubt a pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty -during our short interview, but I am afraid that I must remain -firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary -may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child -is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come, and I shall -meet you with the dogcart at Winchester. Let me know your train. -Yours faithfully, JEPHRO RUCASTLE.' -"That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and -my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, -that before taking the final step I should like to submit the -whole matter to your consideration." -"Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the -question," said Holmes, smiling. -"But you would not advise me to refuse?" -"I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to -see a sister of mine apply for." -"What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?" -"Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself -formed some opinion?" -"Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. -Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, goodnatured man. Is it not -possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the -matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that -he humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an -outbreak?" -"That is a possible solutionin fact, as matters stand, it is -the most probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a -nice household for a young lady." -"But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money" -"Well, yes, of course the pay is goodtoo good. That is what -makes me uneasy. Why should they give you pounds a year, when -they could have their pick for pounds? There must be some -strong reason behind." -"I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would -understand afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so -much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of me." -"Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that -your little problem promises to be the most interesting which has -come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel -about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt -or in danger" -"Danger What danger do you foresee?" -Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would cease to be a danger if -we could define it," said he. "But at any time, day or night, a -telegram would bring me down to your help." -"That is enough." She rose briskly from her chair with the -anxiety all swept from her face. "I shall go down to Hampshire -quite easy in my mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once, -sacrifice my poor hair tonight, and start for Winchester -tomorrow." With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us both -goodnight and bustled off upon her way. -"At least," said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending -the stairs, "she seems to be a young lady who is very well able -to take care of herself." -"And she would need to be," said Holmes gravely. "I am much -mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past." -It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. -A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts -turning in her direction and wondering what strange sidealley of -human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual -salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to -something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether -the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond -my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat -frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an -abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his -hand when I mentioned it. "Data data data" he cried -impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would -always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever -have accepted such a situation. -The telegram which we eventually received came late one night -just as I was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down -to one of those allnight chemical researches which he frequently -indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a -testtube at night and find him in the same position when I came -down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope, -and then, glancing at the message, threw it across to me. -"Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said he, and turned back -to his chemical studies. -The summons was a brief and urgent one. -"Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday -tomorrow," it said. "Do come I am at my wit's end. HUNTER." -"Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up. -"I should wish to." -"Just look it up, then." -"There is a train at halfpast nine," said I, glancing over my -Bradshaw. "It is due at Winchester at ." -"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my -analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the -morning." -By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the -old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers -all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he -threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal -spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white -clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining -very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, -which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, -away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and -grey roofs of the farmsteadings peeped out from amid the light -green of the new foliage. -"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the -enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. -But Holmes shook his head gravely. -"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of -a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with -reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered -houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, -and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their -isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed -there." -"Good heavens" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these -dear old homesteads?" -"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, -Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest -alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin -than does the smiling and beautiful countryside." -"You horrify me" -"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion -can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no -lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of -a drunkard's blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among -the neighbours, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever -so close that a word of complaint can set it going, and there is -but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these -lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part -with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the -deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, -year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had this -lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I -should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of -country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is -not personally threatened." -"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away." -"Quite so. She has her freedom." -"What CAN be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?" -"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would -cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is -correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we -shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of -the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has -to tell." -The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no -distance from the station, and there we found the young lady -waiting for us. She had engaged a sittingroom, and our lunch -awaited us upon the table. -"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It -is so very kind of you both but indeed I do not know what I -should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me." -"Pray tell us what has happened to you." -"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. -Rucastle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into -town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose." -"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long -thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. -"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, -with no actual illtreatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is -only fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and -I am not easy in my mind about them." -"What can you not understand?" -"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just -as it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and -drove me in his dogcart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he -said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, -for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all -stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. There are grounds -round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which -slopes down to the Southampton highroad, which curves past about -a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs -to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord -Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in -front of the hall door has given its name to the place. -"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, -and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. -There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to -us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is -not mad. I found her to be a silent, palefaced woman, much -younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I should think, -while he can hardly be less than fortyfive. From their -conversation I have gathered that they have been married about -seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by -the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr. -Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them -was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As -the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite -imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her -father's young wife. -"Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as -in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. -She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately -devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey -eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every -little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her -also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they -seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, -this woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the -saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her -in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of -her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so -utterly spoiled and so illnatured a little creature. He is small -for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. -His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between -savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving -pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea -of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning -the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would -rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he -has little to do with my story." -"I am glad of all details," remarked my friend, "whether they -seem to you to be relevant or not." -"I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one -unpleasant thing about the house, which struck me at once, was -the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a -man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, -uncouth man, with grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual -smell of drink. Twice since I have been with them he has been -quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. -His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as -silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. They are a most -unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the -nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one -corner of the building. -"For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was -very quiet on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after -breakfast and whispered something to her husband. -"'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to -you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut -your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest -iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electricblue -dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in -your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should -both be extremely obliged.' -"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade -of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it -bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not -have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. -and Mrs. Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which -seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for -me in the drawingroom, which is a very large room, stretching -along the entire front of the house, with three long windows -reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the -central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was -asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on the -other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest -stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how -comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. -Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so -much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad, -anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. Rucastle -suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the -day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in -the nursery. -"Two days later this same performance was gone through under -exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I -sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny -stories of which my employer had an immense rpertoire, and which -he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellowbacked novel, and -moving my chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not -fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for -about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then -suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and -to change my dress. -"You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to -what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly -be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face -away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire -to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be -impossible, but I soon devised a means. My handmirror had been -broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of -the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst -of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able -with a little management to see all that there was behind me. I -confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. At least that -was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I -perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road, -a small bearded man in a grey suit, who seemed to be looking in -my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are -usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the -railings which bordered our field and was looking earnestly up. I -lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to find her -eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, -but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my -hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once. -"'Jephro,' said she, 'there is an impertinent fellow upon the -road there who stares up at Miss Hunter.' -"'No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?' he asked. -"'No, I know no one in these parts.' -"'Dear me How very impertinent Kindly turn round and motion to -him to go away.' -"'Surely it would be better to take no notice.' -"'No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn -round and wave him away like that.' -"I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew -down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have -not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor -seen the man in the road." -"Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative promises to be a -most interesting one." -"You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may -prove to be little relation between the different incidents of -which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper -Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands -near the kitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp -rattling of a chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving -about. -"'Look in here' said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit between two -planks. 'Is he not a beauty?' -"I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a -vague figure huddled up in the darkness. -"'Don't be frightened,' said my employer, laughing at the start -which I had given. 'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, -but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do -anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, -so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose -every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs -upon. For goodness' sake don't you ever on any pretext set your -foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life -is worth.' -"The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to -look out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. -It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the -house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was -standing, rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was -aware that something was moving under the shadow of the copper -beeches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. It -was a giant dog, as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging -jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly -across the lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. -That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which I do not -think that any burglar could have done. -"And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as -you know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a -great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the -child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by examining the -furniture of my room and by rearranging my own little things. -There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper ones -empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two -with my linen, and as I had still much to pack away I was -naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. It -struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, -so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very -first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There -was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never -guess what it was. It was my coil of hair. -"I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, -and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing -obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in -the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the -contents, and drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two -tresses together, and I assure you that they were identical. Was -it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would, I could make nothing at -all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, -and I said nothing of the matter to the Rucastles as I felt that -I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had -locked. -"I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, -and I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. -There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited -at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of -the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. -One day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle -coming out through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on -his face which made him a very different person to the round, -jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his -brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins stood out at his -temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past me -without a word or a look. -"This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the -grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I -could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four -of them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the -fourth was shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I -strolled up and down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rucastle -came out to me, looking as merry and jovial as ever. -"'Ah' said he, 'you must not think me rude if I passed you -without a word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with -business matters.' -"I assured him that I was not offended. 'By the way,' said I, -'you seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one -of them has the shutters up.' -"He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled -at my remark. -"'Photography is one of my hobbies,' said he. 'I have made my -dark room up there. But, dear me what an observant young lady we -have come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever -believed it?' He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest -in his eyes as he looked at me. I read suspicion there and -annoyance, but no jest. -"Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there -was something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, -I was all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, -though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of dutya -feeling that some good might come from my penetrating to this -place. They talk of woman's instinct perhaps it was woman's -instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was there, -and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the -forbidden door. -"It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, -besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to -do in these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large -black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been -drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk and when -I came upstairs there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at -all that he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both -downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an -admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, -opened the door, and slipped through. -"There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and -uncarpeted, which turned at a right angle at the farther end. -Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first and third -of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and -cheerless, with two windows in the one and one in the other, so -thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered dimly through -them. The centre door was closed, and across the outside of it -had been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked -at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at the other with -stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the key was -not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the -shuttered window outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from -beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was -a skylight which let in light from above. As I stood in the -passage gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it -might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room -and saw a shadow pass backward and forward against the little -slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad, -unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes. My -overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and ranran -as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the -skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, -and straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting -outside. -"'So,' said he, smiling, 'it was you, then. I thought that it -must be when I saw the door open.' -"'Oh, I am so frightened' I panted. -"'My dear young lady my dear young lady'you cannot think how -caressing and soothing his manner was'and what has frightened -you, my dear young lady?' -"But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I -was keenly on my guard against him. -"'I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing,' I answered. -'But it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was -frightened and ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in -there' -"'Only that?' said he, looking at me keenly. -"'Why, what did you think?' I asked. -"'Why do you think that I lock this door?' -"'I am sure that I do not know.' -"'It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you -see?' He was still smiling in the most amiable manner. -"'I am sure if I had known' -"'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over -that threshold again'here in an instant the smile hardened into -a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a -demon'I'll throw you to the mastiff.' -"I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that -I must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing -until I found myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then I -thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without -some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man, of the -woman, of the servants, even of the child. They were all horrible -to me. If I could only bring you down all would be well. Of -course I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was -almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon made up. I would -send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down to the -office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then -returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my -mind as I approached the door lest the dog might be loose, but I -remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of -insensibility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one -in the household who had any influence with the savage creature, -or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety and -lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. -I had no difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this -morning, but I must be back before three o'clock, for Mr. and -Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and will be away all the -evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you -all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you -could tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should -do." -Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. -My friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in -his pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon -his face. -"Is Toller still drunk?" he asked. -"Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do -nothing with him." -"That is well. And the Rucastles go out tonight?" -"Yes." -"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?" -"Yes, the winecellar." -"You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very -brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could -perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not -think you a quite exceptional woman." -"I will try. What is it?" -"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o'clock, my friend -and I. The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, -we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might -give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some -errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate -matters immensely." -"I will do it." -"Excellent We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of -course there is only one feasible explanation. You have been -brought there to personate someone, and the real person is -imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this -prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice -Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to -America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height, -figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very -possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of -course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you -came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some -friend of herspossibly her fiancand no doubt, as you wore -the girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your -laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, -that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer -desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent -him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is fairly -clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of -the child." -"What on earth has that to do with it?" I ejaculated. -"My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining -light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the -parents. Don't you see that the converse is equally valid. I have -frequently gained my first real insight into the character of -parents by studying their children. This child's disposition is -abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty's sake, and whether he -derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or -from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their -power." -"I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes," cried our client. "A -thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you -have hit it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to -this poor creature." -"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning -man. We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall -be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the -mystery." -We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we -reached the Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside -publichouse. The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining -like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were -sufficient to mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been -standing smiling on the doorstep. -"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes. -A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is -Mrs. Toller in the cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring -on the kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates -of Mr. Rucastle's." -"You have done well indeed" cried Holmes with enthusiasm. "Now -lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black -business." -We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a -passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss -Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the -transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but -without success. No sound came from within, and at the silence -Holmes' face clouded over. -"I trust that we are not too late," said he. "I think, Miss -Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put -your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our -way in." -It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united -strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There -was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a -basketful of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner -gone. -"There has been some villainy here," said Holmes "this beauty -has guessed Miss Hunter's intentions and has carried his victim -off." -"But how?" -"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it." He -swung himself up onto the roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the -end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did -it." -"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter "the ladder was not -there when the Rucastles went away." -"He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and -dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were -he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it -would be as well for you to have your pistol ready." -The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at -the door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy -stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the -wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and -confronted him. -"You villain" said he, "where's your daughter?" -The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open -skylight. -"It is for me to ask you that," he shrieked, "you thieves Spies -and thieves I have caught you, have I? You are in my power. I'll -serve you" He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he -could go. -"He's gone for the dog" cried Miss Hunter. -"I have my revolver," said I. -"Better close the front door," cried Holmes, and we all rushed -down the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we -heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a -horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An -elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out -at a side door. -"My God" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been -fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late" -Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with -Toller hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its -black muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he writhed and -screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and -it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great -creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them and -carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid -him upon the drawingroom sofa, and having dispatched the sobered -Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to -relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door -opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room. -"Mrs. Toller" cried Miss Hunter. -"Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he -went up to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know -what you were planning, for I would have told you that your pains -were wasted." -"Ha" said Holmes, looking keenly at her. "It is clear that Mrs. -Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else." -"Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know." -"Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several -points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark." -"I will soon make it clear to you," said she "and I'd have done -so before now if I could ha' got out from the cellar. If there's -policecourt business over this, you'll remember that I was the -one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's friend -too. -"She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn't, from the time -that her father married again. She was slighted like and had no -say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until -after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could -learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so -quiet and patient, she was, that she never said a word about them -but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle's hands. He knew he was -safe with her but when there was a chance of a husband coming -forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then -her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to -sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use -her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until -she got brainfever, and for six weeks was at death's door. Then -she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her -beautiful hair cut off but that didn't make no change in her -young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be." -"Ah," said Holmes, "I think that what you have been good enough -to tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce -all that remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took to this -system of imprisonment?" -"Yes, sir." -"And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of -the disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler." -"That was it, sir." -"But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should -be, blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain -arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your -interests were the same as his." -"Mr. Fowler was a very kindspoken, freehanded gentleman," said -Mrs. Toller serenely. -"And in this way he managed that your good man should have no -want of drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment -when your master had gone out." -"You have it, sir, just as it happened." -"I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller," said Holmes, "for -you have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And -here comes the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, -Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, -as it seems to me that our locus standi now is rather a -questionable one." -And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the -copper beeches in front of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but -was always a broken man, kept alive solely through the care of -his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who -probably know so much of Rucastle's past life that he finds it -difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss Rucastle were -married, by special license, in Southampton the day after their -flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in -the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend -Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further -interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of one -of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at -Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. - END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES -This file should be named advsh.txt or advsh.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, advsh.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, advsha.txt -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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The previous edition was update by Jose -Menendez. -THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER -BY -MARK TWAIN -Samuel Langhorne Clemens -P R E F A C E -MOST of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred one or -two were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were -schoolmates of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life Tom Sawyer also, but -not from an individualhe is a combination of the characteristics of -three boys whom I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of -architecture. -The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children -and slaves in the West at the period of this storythat is to say, -thirty or forty years ago. -Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and -girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, -for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what -they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, -and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in. -THE AUTHOR. -HARTFORD, . -T O M S A W Y E R -CHAPTER I -"TOM" -No answer. -"TOM" -No answer. -"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM" -No answer. -The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the -room then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or -never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy they were her -state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not -serviceshe could have seen through a pair of stovelids just as well. -She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but -still loud enough for the furniture to hear -"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll" -She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching -under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the -punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. -"I never did see the beat of that boy" -She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the -tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. -So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and -shouted -"Youu TOM" -There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to -seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight. -"There I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in -there?" -"Nothing." -"Nothing Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS that -truck?" -"I don't know, aunt." -"Well, I know. It's jamthat's what it is. Forty times I've said if -you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch." -The switch hovered in the airthe peril was desperate -"My Look behind you, aunt" -The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The -lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high boardfence, and -disappeared over it. -His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle -laugh. -"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks -enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old -fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, -as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, -and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how -long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he -can make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down -again and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, -and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile -the child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for -us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but lawsame he's my -own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash -him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, -and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Wellawell, man -that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the -Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, -and [ Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him -work, tomorrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work -Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more -than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, -or I'll be the ruination of the child." -Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home -barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw nextday's -wood and split the kindlings before supperat least he was there in -time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did threefourths of the -work. Tom's younger brother or rather halfbrother Sid was already -through with his part of the work picking up chips, for he was a -quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways. -While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity -offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and -very deepfor she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like -many other simplehearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she -was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she -loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low -cunning. Said she -"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?" -"Yes'm." -"Powerful warm, warn't it?" -"Yes'm." -"Didn't you want to go in aswimming, Tom?" -A bit of a scare shot through Toma touch of uncomfortable suspicion. -He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said -"No'mwell, not very much." -The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said -"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect -that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing -that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew -where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move -"Some of us pumped on our headsmine's damp yet. See?" -Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of -circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new -inspiration -"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to -pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket" -The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His -shirt collar was securely sewed. -"Bother Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey -and been aswimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a -singed cat, as the saying isbetter'n you look. THIS time." -She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom -had stumbled into obedient conduct for once. -But Sidney said -"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, -but it's black." -"Why, I did sew it with white Tom" -But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said -"Siddy, I'll lick you for that." -In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into -the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about themone needle -carried white thread and the other black. He said -"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it sometimes -she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to -geeminy she'd stick to one or t'otherI can't keep the run of 'em. But -I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him" -He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very -well thoughand loathed him. -Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. -Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him -than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore -them down and drove them out of his mind for the timejust as men's -misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This -new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just -acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. -It consisted in a peculiar birdlike turn, a sort of liquid warble, -produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short -intervals in the midst of the musicthe reader probably remembers how -to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave -him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full -of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an -astronomer feels who has discovered a new planetno doubt, as far as -strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with -the boy, not the astronomer. -The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom -checked his whistle. A stranger was before hima boy a shade larger -than himself. A newcomer of any age or either sex was an impressive -curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy -was well dressed, toowell dressed on a weekday. This was simply -astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his closebuttoned blue cloth -roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes -onand it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of -ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The -more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his -nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed -to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other movedbut -only sidewise, in a circle they kept face to face and eye to eye all -the time. Finally Tom said -"I can lick you" -"I'd like to see you try it." -"Well, I can do it." -"No you can't, either." -"Yes I can." -"No you can't." -"I can." -"You can't." -"Can" -"Can't" -An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said -"What's your name?" -"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe." -"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business." -"Well why don't you?" -"If you say much, I will." -"MuchmuchMUCH. There now." -"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with -one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to." -"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it." -"Well I WILL, if you fool with me." -"Oh yesI've seen whole families in the same fix." -"Smarty You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat" -"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it -offand anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs." -"You're a liar" -"You're another." -"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up." -"Awtake a walk" -"Sayif you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a -rock off'n your head." -"Oh, of COURSE you will." -"Well I WILL." -"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? -Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid." -"I AIN'T afraid." -"You are." -"I ain't." -"You are." -Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently -they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said -"Get away from here" -"Go away yourself" -"I won't." -"I won't either." -So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and -both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with -hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both -were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, -and Tom said -"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he -can thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too." -"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger -than he isand what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too." -[Both brothers were imaginary.] -"That's a lie." -"YOUR saying so don't make it so." -Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said -"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand -up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep." -The new boy stepped over promptly, and said -"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it." -"Don't you crowd me now you better look out." -"Well, you SAID you'd do itwhy don't you do it?" -"By jingo for two cents I WILL do it." -The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out -with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys -were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats and -for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and -clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered -themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and -through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and -pounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff" said he. -The boy only struggled to free himself. He was cryingmainly from rage. -"Holler 'nuff"and the pounding went on. -At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff" and Tom let him up -and said -"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next -time." -The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, -snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and -threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out." -To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and -as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw -it and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like -an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he -lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the -enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the -window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called -Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went -away but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy. -He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in -at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt -and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn -his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in -its firmness. -CHAPTER II -SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and -fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart and if -the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in -every face and a spring in every step. The locusttrees were in bloom -and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond -the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far -enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. -Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a -longhandled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and -a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board -fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a -burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost -plank repeated the operation did it again compared the insignificant -whitewashed streak with the farreaching continent of unwhitewashed -fence, and sat down on a treebox discouraged. Jim came skipping out at -the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from -the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but -now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at -the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there -waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, -fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only -a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of -water under an hourand even then somebody generally had to go after -him. Tom said -"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some." -Jim shook his head and said -"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis -water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars -Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend -to my own businessshe 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'." -"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always -talks. Gimme the bucketI won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't -ever know." -"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n -me. 'Deed she would." -"SHE She never licks anybodywhacks 'em over the head with her -thimbleand who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but -talk don't hurtanyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you -a marvel. I'll give you a white alley" -Jim began to waver. -"White alley, Jim And it's a bully taw." -"My Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you But Mars Tom I's powerful -'fraid ole missis" -"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe." -Jim was only humanthis attraction was too much for him. He put down -his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing -interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was -flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was -whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field -with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. -But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had -planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys -would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and -they would make a world of fun of him for having to workthe very -thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and -examined itbits of toys, marbles, and trash enough to buy an -exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an -hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his -pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark -and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him Nothing less than a -great, magnificent inspiration. -He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in -sight presentlythe very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been -dreading. Ben's gait was the hopskipandjumpproof enough that his -heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and -giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deeptoned -dingdongdong, dingdongdong, for he was personating a steamboat. As -he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned -far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious -pomp and circumstancefor he was personating the Big Missouri, and -considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and -captain and enginebells combined, so he had to imagine himself -standing on his own hurricanedeck giving the orders and executing them -"Stop her, sir Tingalingling" The headway ran almost out, and he -drew up slowly toward the sidewalk. -"Ship up to back Tingalingling" His arms straightened and -stiffened down his sides. -"Set her back on the stabboard Tingalingling Chow chchowwow -Chow" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circlesfor it was -representing a fortyfoot wheel. -"Let her go back on the labboard Tingalingling Chowchchowchow" -The left hand began to describe circles. -"Stop the stabboard Tingalingling Stop the labboard Come ahead -on the stabboard Stop her Let your outside turn over slow -Tingalingling Chowowow Get out that headline LIVELY now -Comeout with your springlinewhat're you about there Take a turn -round that stump with the bight of it Stand by that stage, nowlet her -go Done with the engines, sir Tingalingling SH'T S'H'T SH'T" -trying the gaugecocks. -Tom went on whitewashingpaid no attention to the steamboat. Ben -stared a moment and then said "HiYI YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you" -No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then -he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as -before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the -apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said -"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?" -Tom wheeled suddenly and said -"Why, it's you, Ben I warn't noticing." -"SayI'm going in aswimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of -course you'd druther WORKwouldn't you? Course you would" -Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said -"What do you call work?" -"Why, ain't THAT work?" -Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly -"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom -Sawyer." -"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?" -The brush continued to move. -"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get -a chance to whitewash a fence every day?" -That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom -swept his brush daintily back and forthstepped back to note the -effectadded a touch here and therecriticised the effect againBen -watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more -absorbed. Presently he said -"Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little." -Tom considered, was about to consent but he altered his mind -"NonoI reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's -awful particular about this fenceright here on the street, you know -but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes, -she's awful particular about this fence it's got to be done very -careful I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two -thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done." -"Nois that so? Oh come, nowlemme just try. Only just a littleI'd -let YOU, if you was me, Tom." -"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun but Aunt Pollywell, Jim wanted to -do it, but she wouldn't let him Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't -let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this -fence and anything was to happen to it" -"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. SayI'll give -you the core of my apple." -"Well, hereNo, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard" -"I'll give you ALL of it" -Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his -heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in -the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, -dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more -innocents. There was no lack of material boys happened along every -little while they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time -Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for -a kite, in good repair and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in -for a dead rat and a string to swing it withand so on, and so on, -hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being -a poor povertystricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling -in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, -part of a jewsharp, a piece of blue bottleglass to look through, a -spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, -a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six -firecrackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a -dogcollarbut no dogthe handle of a knife, four pieces of -orangepeel, and a dilapidated old window sash. -He had had a nice, good, idle time all the whileplenty of company -and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it If he hadn't run out -of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. -Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He -had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing itnamely, -that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only -necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great -and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have -comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, -and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And -this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers -or performing on a treadmill is work, while rolling tenpins or -climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in -England who drive fourhorse passengercoaches twenty or thirty miles -on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them -considerable money but if they were offered wages for the service, -that would turn it into work and then they would resign. -The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place -in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to -report. -CHAPTER III -TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open -window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, -breakfastroom, diningroom, and library, combined. The balmy summer -air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmur -of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting -for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap. Her -spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thought -that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing him -place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said "Mayn't -I go and play now, aunt?" -"What, a'ready? How much have you done?" -"It's all done, aunt." -"Tom, don't lie to meI can't bear it." -"I ain't, aunt it IS all done." -Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see -for herself and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. -of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed, -and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even -a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. -She said -"Well, I never There's no getting round it, you can work when you're -a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But -it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long -and play but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you." -She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took -him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to -him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a -treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. -And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a -doughnut. -Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway -that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and -the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a -hailstorm and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties -and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, -and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general -thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at -peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his -black thread and getting him into trouble. -Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by -the back of his aunt's cowstable. He presently got safely beyond the -reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square -of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for -conflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of -these armies, Joe Harper a bosom friend General of the other. These -two great commanders did not condescend to fight in personthat being -better suited to the still smaller frybut sat together on an eminence -and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through -aidesdecamp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and -hardfought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, -the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the -necessary battle appointed after which the armies fell into line and -marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. -As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new -girl in the gardena lovely little blueeyed creature with yellow hair -plaited into two longtails, white summer frock and embroidered -pantalettes. The freshcrowned hero fell without firing a shot. A -certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a -memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction -he had regarded his passion as adoration and behold it was only a poor -little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her she had -confessed hardly a week ago he had been the happiest and the proudest -boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time -she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is -done. -He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she -had discovered him then he pretended he did not know she was present, -and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to -win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some -time but byandby, while he was in the midst of some dangerous -gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl -was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and -leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. -She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom -heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face -lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment -before she disappeared. -The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and -then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if -he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. -Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his -nose, with his head tilted far back and as he moved from side to side, -in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy finally -his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he -hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But -only for a minuteonly while he could button the flower inside his -jacket, next his heartor next his stomach, possibly, for he was not -much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. -He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing -off," as before but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom -comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some -window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode -home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. -All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered -"what had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding -Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar -under his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said -"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it." -"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into -that sugar if I warn't watching you." -Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his -immunity, reached for the sugarbowla sort of glorying over Tom which -was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped -and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even -controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would -not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly -still till she asked who did the mischief and then he would tell, and -there would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model -"catch it." He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold -himself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreck -discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to -himself, "Now it's coming" And the next instant he was sprawling on -the floor The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried -out -"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?Sid broke it" -Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But -when she got her tongue again, she only said -"Umf Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some -other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough." -Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something -kind and loving but she judged that this would be construed into a -confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. -So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. -Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart -his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the -consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice -of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, -through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured -himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching -one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and -die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured -himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and -his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how -her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back -her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more But he would lie -there cold and white and make no signa poor little sufferer, whose -griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos -of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to -choke and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he -winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a -luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear -to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it -it was too sacred for such contact and so, presently, when his cousin -Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an -agelong visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in -clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in -at the other. -He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought -desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the -river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and -contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, -that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without -undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought -of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily -increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she -knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms -around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all -the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable -suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it -up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he -rose up sighing and departed in the darkness. -About halfpast nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street -to where the Adored Unknown lived he paused a moment no sound fell -upon his listening ear a candle was casting a dull glow upon the -curtain of a secondstory window. Was the sacred presence there? He -climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till -he stood under that window he looked up at it long, and with emotion -then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon -his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor -wilted flower. And thus he would dieout in the cold world, with no -shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the -deathdamps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over him -when the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she looked -out upon the glad morning, and oh would she drop one little tear upon -his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a bright -young life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down? -The window went up, a maidservant's discordant voice profaned the -holy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains -The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz -as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound -as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the -fence and shot away in the gloom. -Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his -drenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up but if he -had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought -better of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye. -Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made -mental note of the omission. -CHAPTER IV -THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful -village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family -worship it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid -courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of -originality and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter -of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. -Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get -his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his -energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the -Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. -At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, -but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human -thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary -took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through -the fog -"Blessed are theaa" -"Poor" -"Yespoor blessed are the pooraa" -"In spirit" -"In spirit blessed are the poor in spirit, for theythey" -"THEIRS" -"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom -of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for theythey" -"Sh" -"For theya" -"S, H, A" -"For they S, HOh, I don't know what it is" -"SHALL" -"Oh, SHALL for they shallfor they shallaashall mournaa -blessed are they that shallthey thatathey that shall mourn, for -they shallashall WHAT? Why don't you tell me, Mary?what do you -want to be so mean for?" -"Oh, Tom, you poor thickheaded thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't -do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, -you'll manage itand if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice. -There, now, that's a good boy." -"All right What is it, Mary, tell me what it is." -"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice." -"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again." -And he did "tackle it again"and under the double pressure of -curiosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he -accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brandnew "Barlow" -knife worth twelve and a half cents and the convulsion of delight that -swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would -not cut anything, but it was a "sureenough" Barlow, and there was -inconceivable grandeur in thatthough where the Western boys ever got -the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its -injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom -contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin -on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sundayschool. -Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went -outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there then he -dipped the soap in the water and laid it down turned up his sleeves -poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the -kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the -door. But Mary removed the towel and said -"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt -you." -Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time -he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution took in a big -breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes -shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony -of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from -the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped -short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask below and beyond this line -there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in -front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she -was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of -color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls -wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately -smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his -hair close down to his head for he held curls to be effeminate, and -his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of -his clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two yearsthey -were simply called his "other clothes"and so by that we know the -size of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed -himself she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his -vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned -him with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and -uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked for there -was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He -hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted she -coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them -out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do -everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively -"Please, Tomthat's a good boy." -So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three -children set out for Sundayschoola place that Tom hated with his -whole heart but Sid and Mary were fond of it. -Sabbathschool hours were from nine to halfpast ten and then church -service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon -voluntarily, and the other always remained toofor stronger reasons. -The church's highbacked, uncushioned pews would seat about three -hundred persons the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort -of pine board treebox on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom -dropped back a step and accosted a Sundaydressed comrade -"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?" -"Yes." -"What'll you take for her?" -"What'll you give?" -"Piece of lickrish and a fishhook." -"Less see 'em." -Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. -Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and -some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other -boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or -fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of -clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a -quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, -elderly man, interfered then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a -boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy -turned around stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear -him say "Ouch" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole -class were of a patternrestless, noisy, and troublesome. When they -came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses -perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried -through, and each got his rewardin small blue tickets, each with a -passage of Scripture on it each blue ticket was pay for two verses of -the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be -exchanged for it ten red tickets equalled a yellow one for ten yellow -tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible worth forty -cents in those easy times to the pupil. How many of my readers would -have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even -for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this wayit -was the patient work of two yearsand a boy of German parentage had -won four or five. He once recited three thousand verses without -stopping but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and -he was little better than an idiot from that day fortha grievous -misfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, the -superintendent as Tom expressed it had always made this boy come out -and "spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their -tickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and -so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy -circumstance the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for -that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a fresh -ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's -mental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, but -unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the glory -and the eclat that came with it. -In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with -a closed hymnbook in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its -leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sundayschool superintendent -makes his customary little speech, a hymnbook in the hand is as -necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer -who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert -though why, is a mystery for neither the hymnbook nor the sheet of -music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a -slim creature of thirtyfive, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair -he wore a stiff standingcollar whose upper edge almost reached his -ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his -moutha fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning -of the whole body when a side view was required his chin was propped -on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a banknote, -and had fringed ends his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the -fashion of the day, like sleighrunnersan effect patiently and -laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes -pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest -of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart and he held sacred -things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly -matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sundayschool voice had -acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on weekdays. He -began after this fashion -"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty -as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There -that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see -one little girl who is looking out of the windowI am afraid she -thinks I am out there somewhereperhaps up in one of the trees making -a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you -how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces -assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good." And -so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the -oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar -to us all. -The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights -and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings -and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases -of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every -sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and -the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent -gratitude. -A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which -was more or less rarethe entrance of visitors lawyer Thatcher, -accompanied by a very feeble and aged man a fine, portly, middleaged -gentleman with irongray hair and a dignified lady who was doubtless -the latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless -and full of chafings and repinings consciencesmitten, toohe could -not meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But -when he saw this small newcomer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in -a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might -cuffing boys, pulling hair, making facesin a word, using every art -that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. His -exaltation had but one alloythe memory of his humiliation in this -angel's gardenand that record in sand was fast washing out, under -the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now. -The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. -Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The -middleaged man turned out to be a prodigious personageno less a one -than the county judgealtogether the most august creation these -children had ever looked uponand they wondered what kind of material -he was made ofand they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half -afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles awayso -he had travelled, and seen the worldthese very eyes had looked upon -the county courthousewhich was said to have a tin roof. The awe -which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence -and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, -brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to -be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would -have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings -"Look at him, Jim He's a going up there. Saylook he's a going to -shake hands with himhe IS shaking hands with him By jings, don't you -wish you was Jeff?" -Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official -bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, -discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a -target. The librarian "showed off"running hither and thither with his -arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that -insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off" -bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting -pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones -lovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small -scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention to -disciplineand most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up -at the library, by the pulpit and it was business that frequently had -to be done over again two or three times with much seeming vexation. -The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys -"showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wads -and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and -beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself -in the sun of his own grandeurfor he was "showing off," too. -There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy -complete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bibleprize and exhibit a -prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough -he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given -worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind. -And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward -with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and -demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters -was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten -years. But there was no getting around ithere were the certified -checks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated -to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was -announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the -decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero -up to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to -gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envybut -those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too -late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by -trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling -whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes -of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass. -The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the -superintendent could pump up under the circumstances but it lacked -somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him -that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, -perhaps it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two -thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premisesa dozen would -strain his capacity, without a doubt. -Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in -her facebut he wouldn't look. She wondered then she was just a grain -troubled next a dim suspicion came and wentcame again she watched -a furtive glance told her worldsand then her heart broke, and she was -jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom -most of all she thought. -Tom was introduced to the Judge but his tongue was tied, his breath -would hardly come, his heart quakedpartly because of the awful -greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would -have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The -Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and -asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out -"Tom." -"Oh, no, not Tomit is" -"Thomas." -"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very -well. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't -you?" -"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say -sir. You mustn't forget your manners." -"Thomas Sawyersir." -"That's it That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. -Two thousand verses is a great manyvery, very great many. And you -never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them for -knowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world it's what -makes great men and good men you'll be a great man and a good man -yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all -owing to the precious Sundayschool privileges of my boyhoodit's all -owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learnit's all owing to -the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and -gave me a beautiful Biblea splendid elegant Bibleto keep and have -it all for my own, alwaysit's all owing to right bringing up That is -what you will say, Thomasand you wouldn't take any money for those -two thousand versesno indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind -telling me and this lady some of the things you've learnedno, I know -you wouldn'tfor we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no -doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us -the names of the first two that were appointed?" -Tom was tugging at a buttonhole and looking sheepish. He blushed, -now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said to -himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest -questionwhy DID the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up -and say -"Answer the gentleman, Thomasdon't be afraid." -Tom still hung fire. -"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first -two disciples were" -"DAVID AND GOLIAH" -Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene. -CHAPTER V -ABOUT halfpast ten the cracked bell of the small church began to -ring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon. -The Sundayschool children distributed themselves about the house and -occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt -Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with herTom being placed -next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open -window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd -filed up the aisles the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better -days the mayor and his wifefor they had a mayor there, among other -unnecessaries the justice of the peace the widow Douglass, fair, -smart, and forty, a generous, goodhearted soul and welltodo, her -hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and -much the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg -could boast the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward lawyer -Riverson, the new notable from a distance next the belle of the -village, followed by a troop of lawnclad and ribbondecked young -heartbreakers then all the young clerks in town in a bodyfor they -had stood in the vestibule sucking their caneheads, a circling wall of -oiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet -and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful -care of his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought his -mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all -hated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them" -so much. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as -usual on Sundaysaccidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked -upon boys who had as snobs. -The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, -to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon the -church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the -choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all -through service. There was once a church choir that was not illbred, -but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, -and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in -some foreign country. -The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in -a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. -His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached -a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost -word and then plunged down as if from a springboard -Shall I be carried toe the skies, on flow'ry BEDS of ease, -Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' BLOODY seas? -He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was -always called upon to read poetry and when he was through, the ladies -would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, -and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words -cannot express it it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal -earth." -After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into -a bulletinboard, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies and -things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of -dooma queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities, -away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is -to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it. -And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went -into details it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the -church for the other churches of the village for the village itself -for the county for the State for the State officers for the United -States for the churches of the United States for Congress for the -President for the officers of the Government for poor sailors, tossed -by stormy seas for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of -European monarchies and Oriental despotisms for such as have the light -and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear -withal for the heathen in the far islands of the sea and closed with -a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace -and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a -grateful harvest of good. Amen. -There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat -down. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, -he only endured itif he even did that much. He was restive all -through it he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously -for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the -clergyman's regular route over itand when a little trifle of new -matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole nature -resented it he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the -midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of -him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together, -embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that -it seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender thread -of a neck was exposed to view scraping its wings with its hind legs -and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coattails going -through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly -safe. As indeed it was for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab for -it they did not darehe believed his soul would be instantly destroyed -if he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with the -closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward and the -instant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt -detected the act and made him let it go. -The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through -an argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod -and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone -and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be -hardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon after -church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew -anything else about the discourse. However, this time he was really -interested for a little while. The minister made a grand and moving -picture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at the -millennium when the lion and the lamb should lie down together and a -little child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of -the great spectacle were lost upon the boy he only thought of the -conspicuousness of the principal character before the onlooking -nations his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he -wished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion. -Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. -Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was -a large black beetle with formidable jawsa "pinchbug," he called it. -It was in a percussioncap box. The first thing the beetle did was to -take him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle went -floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger -went into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless -legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it but it was -safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found -relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle -dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and -the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle -the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize walked -around it smelt at it from a safe distance walked around it again -grew bolder, and took a closer smell then lifted his lip and made a -gingerly snatch at it, just missing it made another, and another -began to enjoy the diversion subsided to his stomach with the beetle -between his paws, and continued his experiments grew weary at last, -and then indifferent and absentminded. His head nodded, and little by -little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There -was a sharp yelp, a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell a -couple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring -spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind -fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked -foolish, and probably felt so but there was resentment in his heart, -too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a -wary attack on it again jumping at it from every point of a circle, -lighting with his forepaws within an inch of the creature, making even -closer snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his -ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while tried -to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief followed an ant -around, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that -yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then -there was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the -aisle the yelps continued, and so did the dog he crossed the house in -front of the altar he flew down the other aisle he crossed before the -doors he clamored up the homestretch his anguish grew with his -progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbit -with the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferer -sheered from its course, and sprang into its master's lap he flung it -out of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away and -died in the distance. -By this time the whole church was redfaced and suffocating with -suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. The -discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all -possibility of impressiveness being at an end for even the gravest -sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of -unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pewback, as if the poor -parson had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to -the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction -pronounced. -Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there -was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of -variety in it. He had but one marring thought he was willing that the -dog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright -in him to carry it off. -CHAPTER VI -MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found -him sobecause it began another week's slow suffering in school. He -generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening -holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much -more odious. -Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was -sick then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague -possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he -investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky -symptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope. But -they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected -further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth -was loose. This was lucky he was about to begin to groan, as a -"starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came -into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that -would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the -present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and -then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that -laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him -lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the -sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the -necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, -so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit. -But Sid slept on unconscious. -Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe. -No result from Sid. -Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and -then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans. -Sid snored on. -Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid" and shook him. This course -worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then -brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at -Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said -"Tom Say, Tom" [No response.] "Here, Tom TOM What is the matter, -Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously. -Tom moaned out -"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me." -"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie." -"Nonever mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody." -"But I must DON'T groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this -way?" -"Hours. Ouch Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me." -"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, DON'T It makes my -flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?" -"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done -to me. When I'm gone" -"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tomoh, don't. Maybe" -"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you -give my windowsash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's -come to town, and tell her" -But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in -reality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his -groans had gathered quite a genuine tone. -Sid flew downstairs and said -"Oh, Aunt Polly, come Tom's dying" -"Dying" -"Yes'm. Don't waitcome quick" -"Rubbage I don't believe it" -But she fled upstairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. -And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached -the bedside she gasped out -"You, Tom Tom, what's the matter with you?" -"Oh, auntie, I'm" -"What's the matter with youwhat is the matter with you, child?" -"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified" -The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a -little, then did both together. This restored her and she said -"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and -climb out of this." -The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a -little foolish, and he said -"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my -tooth at all." -"Your tooth, indeed What's the matter with your tooth?" -"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful." -"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth. -Wellyour tooth IS loose, but you're not going to die about that. -Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen." -Tom said -"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish -I may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stay -home from school." -"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought -you'd get to stay home from school and go afishing? Tom, Tom, I love -you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart -with your outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were -ready. The old lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth -with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the -chunk of fire and suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The -tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now. -But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school -after breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in -his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and -admirable way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the -exhibition and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of -fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly -without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and -he said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't anything to -spit like Tom Sawyer but another boy said, "Sour grapes" and he -wandered away a dismantled hero. -Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry -Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and -dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless -and vulgar and badand because all their children admired him so, and -delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like -him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied -Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders -not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance. -Huckleberry was always dressed in the castoff clothes of fullgrown -men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat -was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim his coat, -when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons -far down the back but one suspender supported his trousers the seat -of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs -dragged in the dirt when not rolled up. -Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps -in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet he did not have to go to -school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody he could -go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it -suited him nobody forbade him to fight he could sit up as late as he -pleased he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring -and the last to resume leather in the fall he never had to wash, nor -put on clean clothes he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everything -that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every -harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg. -Tom hailed the romantic outcast -"Hello, Huckleberry" -"Hello yourself, and see how you like it." -"What's that you got?" -"Dead cat." -"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?" -"Bought him off'n a boy." -"What did you give?" -"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughterhouse." -"Where'd you get the blue ticket?" -"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoopstick." -"Saywhat is dead cats good for, Huck?" -"Good for? Cure warts with." -"No Is that so? I know something that's better." -"I bet you don't. What is it?" -"Why, spunkwater." -"Spunkwater I wouldn't give a dern for spunkwater." -"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?" -"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did." -"Who told you so" -"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny -told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and -the nigger told me. There now" -"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I -don't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that WOULDN'T lie. Shucks Now -you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck." -"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the -rainwater was." -"In the daytime?" -"Certainly." -"With his face to the stump?" -"Yes. Least I reckon so." -"Did he say anything?" -"I don't reckon he did. I don't know." -"Aha Talk about trying to cure warts with spunkwater such a blame -fool way as that Why, that ain't agoing to do any good. You got to go -all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a -spunkwater stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the -stump and jam your hand in and say -'Barleycorn, barleycorn, injunmeal shorts, -Spunkwater, spunkwater, swaller these warts,' -and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then -turn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody. -Because if you speak the charm's busted." -"Well, that sounds like a good way but that ain't the way Bob Tanner -done." -"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this -town and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to work -spunkwater. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way, -Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many -warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean." -"Yes, bean's good. I've done that." -"Have you? What's your way?" -"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some -blood, and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take and -dig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of -the moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece -that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to -fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the -wart, and pretty soon off she comes." -"Yes, that's it, Huckthat's it though when you're burying it if you -say 'Down bean off wart come no more to bother me' it's better. -That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and -most everywheres. But sayhow do you cure 'em with dead cats?" -"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about -midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried and when it's -midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see -'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk -and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em -and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm -done with ye' That'll fetch ANY wart." -"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?" -"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me." -"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch." -"Say Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own -self. He come along one day, and he see she was awitching him, so he -took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that -very night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and broke -his arm." -"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was awitching him?" -"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you -right stiddy, they're awitching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz -when they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards." -"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?" -"Tonight. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams tonight." -"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?" -"Why, how you talk How could their charms work till midnight?and -THEN it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don't -reckon." -"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?" -"Of courseif you ain't afeard." -"Afeard 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?" -"Yesand you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me -ameowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says -'Dern that cat' and so I hove a brick through his windowbut don't -you tell." -"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me, -but I'll meow this time. Saywhat's that?" -"Nothing but a tick." -"Where'd you get him?" -"Out in the woods." -"What'll you take for him?" -"I don't know. I don't want to sell him." -"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway." -"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm -satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me." -"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I -wanted to." -"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a -pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year." -"Say, HuckI'll give you my tooth for him." -"Less see it." -Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry -viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said -"Is it genuwyne?" -Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy. -"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade." -Tom enclosed the tick in the percussioncap box that had lately been -the pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier -than before. -When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode in -briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. -He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with -businesslike alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great -splintbottom armchair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. -The interruption roused him. -"Thomas Sawyer" -Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble. -"Sir" -"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?" -Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of -yellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electric -sympathy of love and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on the -girls' side of the schoolhouse. He instantly said -"I STOPPED TO TALK WITH HUCKLEBERRY FINN" -The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of -study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his -mind. The master said -"Youyou did what?" -"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn." -There was no mistaking the words. -"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever -listened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your -jacket." -The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of -switches notably diminished. Then the order followed -"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls And let this be a warning to you." -The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but -in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe of -his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good -fortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl -hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks -and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon -the long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book. -By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur -rose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to steal -furtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at him and -gave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When she -cautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust it -away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with less -animosity. Tom patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it -remain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take itI got more." The -girl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to draw -something on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand. For a time -the girl refused to notice but her human curiosity presently began to -manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, -apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of noncommittal attempt to -see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she -gave in and hesitatingly whispered -"Let me see it." -Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable -ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the -girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot -everything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then -whispered -"It's nicemake a man." -The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. -He could have stepped over the house but the girl was not -hypercritical she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered -"It's a beautiful mannow make me coming along." -Tom drew an hourglass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and -armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said -"It's ever so niceI wish I could draw." -"It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." -"Oh, will you? When?" -"At noon. Do you go home to dinner?" -"I'll stay if you will." -"Goodthat's a whack. What's your name?" -"Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." -"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me -Tom, will you?" -"Yes." -Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from -the girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tom -said -"Oh, it ain't anything." -"Yes it is." -"No it ain't. You don't want to see." -"Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me." -"You'll tell." -"No I won'tdeed and deed and double deed won't." -"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?" -"No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me." -"Oh, YOU don't want to see" -"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand -upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in -earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were -revealed "I LOVE YOU." -"Oh, you bad thing" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened -and looked pleased, nevertheless. -Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his -ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across the -house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles -from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few -awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a -word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. -As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the -turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the -reading class and made a botch of it then in the geography class and -turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into -continents, till chaos was come again then in the spelling class, and -got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought -up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with -ostentation for months. -CHAPTER VII -THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his -ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It -seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was -utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of -sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying -scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. -Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green -sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of -distance a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air no other -living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's -heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to -pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face -lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know -it. Then furtively the percussioncap box came out. He released the -tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed -with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it -was premature for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned -him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. -Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and -now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an -instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn -friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a -pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. -The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were -interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of -the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the -middle of it from top to bottom. -"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and -I'll let him alone but if you let him get away and get on my side, -you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over." -"All right, go ahead start him up." -The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe -harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This -change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with -absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, -the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to -all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The -tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as -anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would -have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be -twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep -possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was -too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was -angry in a moment. Said he -"Tom, you let him alone." -"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe." -"No, sir, it ain't fair you just let him alone." -"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much." -"Let him alone, I tell you." -"I won't" -"You shallhe's on my side of the line." -"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?" -"I don't care whose tick he ishe's on my side of the line, and you -sha'n't touch him." -"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I -blame please with him, or die" -A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on -Joe's and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from -the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too -absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile -before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over -them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he -contributed his bit of variety to it. -When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and -whispered in her ear -"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home and when you get to -the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the -lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same -way." -So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with -another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and -when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they -sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil -and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising -house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. -Tom was swimming in bliss. He said -"Do you love rats?" -"No I hate them" -"Well, I do, tooLIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your -head with a string." -"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewinggum." -"Oh, I should say so I wish I had some now." -"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give -it back to me." -That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their -legs against the bench in excess of contentment. -"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom. -"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good." -"I been to the circus three or four timeslots of times. Church ain't -shucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time. -I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up." -"Oh, are you That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up." -"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of moneymost a dollar a day, -Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?" -"What's that?" -"Why, engaged to be married." -"No." -"Would you like to?" -"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?" -"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't -ever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's -all. Anybody can do it." -"Kiss? What do you kiss for?" -"Why, that, you know, is towell, they always do that." -"Everybody?" -"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember -what I wrote on the slate?" -"Yeyes." -"What was it?" -"I sha'n't tell you." -"Shall I tell YOU?" -"Yeyesbut some other time." -"No, now." -"No, not nowtomorrow." -"Oh, no, NOW. Please, BeckyI'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever so -easy." -Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm -about her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth -close to her ear. And then he added -"Now you whisper it to mejust the same." -She resisted, for a while, and then said -"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you -mustn't ever tell anybodyWILL you, Tom? Now you won't, WILL you?" -"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky." -He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath -stirred his curls and whispered, "Iloveyou" -Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, -with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her -little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and -pleaded -"Now, Becky, it's all doneall over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid -of thatit ain't anything at all. Please, Becky." And he tugged at her -apron and the hands. -By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop her face, all glowing -with the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and -said -"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't -ever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody but -me, ever never and forever. Will you?" -"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry -anybody but youand you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either." -"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to school -or when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain't -anybody lookingand you choose me and I choose you at parties, because -that's the way you do when you're engaged." -"It's so nice. I never heard of it before." -"Oh, it's ever so gay Why, me and Amy Lawrence" -The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused. -"Oh, Tom Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to" -The child began to cry. Tom said -"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more." -"Yes, you do, Tomyou know you do." -Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and -turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with -soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was -up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and -uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping -she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began -to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle -with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and -entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with -her face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a -moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly -"Becky, II don't care for anybody but you." -No replybut sobs. -"Becky"pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?" -More sobs. -Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an -andiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said -"Please, Becky, won't you take it?" -She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over -the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently -Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door he was not in sight she -flew around to the playyard he was not there. Then she called -"Tom Come back, Tom" -She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions -but silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraid -herself and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she -had to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross -of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangers -about her to exchange sorrows with. -CHAPTER VIII -TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of -the track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He -crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing -juvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour -later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of -Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off -in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless -way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading -oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring the dead noonday heat had -even stilled the songs of the birds nature lay in a trance that was -broken by no sound but the occasional faroff hammering of a -woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense -of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in -melancholy his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. He -sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, -meditating. It seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, and -he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released it must be -very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and -ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the -grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve -about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sundayschool record he -could be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl. -What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and been -treated like a doglike a very dog. She would be sorry some daymaybe -when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY -But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one -constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift -insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned -his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went awayever -so far away, into unknown countries beyond the seasand never came -back any more How would she feel then The idea of being a clown -recurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and -jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselves -upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the -romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, all -warworn and illustrious. Nobetter still, he would join the Indians, -and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the -trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come -back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and -prance into Sundayschool, some drowsy summer morning, with a -bloodcurdling warwhoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions -with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than -this. He would be a pirate That was it NOW his future lay plain -before him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would -fill the world, and make people shudder How gloriously he would go -plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, blackhulled racer, the -Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore And at -the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village -and stalk into church, brown and weatherbeaten, in his black velvet -doublet and trunks, his great jackboots, his crimson sash, his belt -bristling with horsepistols, his crimerusted cutlass at his side, his -slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull -and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, -"It's Tom Sawyer the Piratethe Black Avenger of the Spanish Main" -Yes, it was settled his career was determined. He would run away from -home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore -he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources -together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under -one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded -hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively -"What hasn't come here, come What's here, stay here" -Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it -up and disclosed a shapely little treasurehouse whose bottom and sides -were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless -He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said -"Well, that beats anything" -Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The -truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and -all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a -marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a -fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just -used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had -gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they -had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably -failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. -He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its -failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several -times before, himself, but could never find the hidingplaces -afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided -that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he -would satisfy himself on that point so he searched around till he -found a small sandy spot with a little funnelshaped depression in it. -He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and -called -"Doodlebug, doodlebug, tell me what I want to know Doodlebug, -doodlebug, tell me what I want to know" -The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a -second and then darted under again in a fright. -"He dasn't tell So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it." -He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he -gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have -the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a -patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to -his treasurehouse and carefully placed himself just as he had been -standing when he tossed the marble away then he took another marble -from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying -"Brother, go find your brother" -He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must -have fallen short or gone too far so he tried twice more. The last -repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each -other. -Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green -aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a -suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, -disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in -a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with -fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an -answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way -and that. He said cautiouslyto an imaginary company -"Hold, my merry men Keep hid till I blow." -Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. -Tom called -"Hold Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" -"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou thatthat" -"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, promptingfor they talked -"by the book," from memory. -"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" -"I, indeed I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know." -"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute -with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee" -They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, -struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful -combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said -"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively" -So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and -by Tom shouted -"Fall fall Why don't you fall?" -"I sha'n't Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of -it." -"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall that ain't the way it is in -the book. The book says, 'Then with one backhanded stroke he slew poor -Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the -back." -There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received -the whack and fell. -"Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair." -"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book." -"Well, it's blamed meanthat's all." -"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and -lam me with a quarterstaff or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and -you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me." -This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then -Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to -bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, -representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, -gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow -falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he -shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a -nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. -The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off -grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern -civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. -They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than -President of the United States forever. -CHAPTER IX -AT halfpast nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. -They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and -waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be -nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten This was despair. He -would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was -afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. -Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, -scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking -of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to -crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were -abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And -now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could -locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at -the bed's head made Tom shudderit meant that somebody's days were -numbered. Then the howl of a faroff dog rose on the night air, and was -answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an -agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity -begun he began to doze, in spite of himself the clock chimed eleven, -but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his -halfformed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a -neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat you devil" and the -crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed -brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and -out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all -fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went then jumped -to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn -was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the -gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall -grass of the graveyard. -It was a graveyard of the oldfashioned Western kind. It was on a -hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board -fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of -the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the -whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a -tombstone on the place roundtopped, wormeaten boards staggered over -the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory -of" SoandSo had been painted on them once, but it could no longer -have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. -A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the -spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked -little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the -pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the -sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the -protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet -of the grave. -Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting -of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. -Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said -in a whisper -"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?" -Huckleberry whispered -"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, AIN'T it?" -"I bet it is." -There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter -inwardly. Then Tom whispered -"Say, Huckydo you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?" -"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does." -Tom, after a pause -"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. -Everybody calls him Hoss." -"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout theseyer dead -people, Tom." -This was a damper, and conversation died again. -Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said -"Sh" -"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts. -"Sh There 'tis again Didn't you hear it?" -"I" -"There Now you hear it." -"Lord, Tom, they're coming They're coming, sure. What'll we do?" -"I dono. Think they'll see us?" -"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't -come." -"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't -doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us -at all." -"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver." -"Listen" -The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled -sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard. -"Look See there" whispered Tom. "What is it?" -"It's devilfire. Oh, Tom, this is awful." -Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an -oldfashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable -little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a -shudder -"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em Lordy, Tom, we're goners -Can you pray?" -"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now -I lay me down to sleep, I'" -"Sh" -"What is it, Huck?" -"They're HUMANS One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's -voice." -"No'tain't so, is it?" -"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to -notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likelyblamed old rip" -"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here -they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot -They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them -voices it's Injun Joe." -"That's sothat murderin' halfbreed I'd druther they was devils a -dern sight. What kin they be up to?" -The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the -grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hidingplace. -"Here it is," said the third voice and the owner of it held the -lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson. -Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a -couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open -the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came -and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so -close the boys could have touched him. -"Hurry, men" he said, in a low voice "the moon might come out at any -moment." -They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was -no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight -of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck -upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or -two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid -with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the -ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid -face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered -with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a -large springknife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then -said -"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with -another five, or here she stays." -"That's the talk" said Injun Joe. -"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your -pay in advance, and I've paid you." -"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the -doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from -your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to -eat, and you said I warn't there for any good and when I swore I'd get -even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for -a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for -nothing. And now I've GOT you, and you got to SETTLE, you know" -He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this -time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the -ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed -"Here, now, don't you hit my pard" and the next moment he had -grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and -main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. -Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched -up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and -round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the -doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams' -grave and felled Potter to the earth with itand in the same instant -the halfbreed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the -young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him -with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the -dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in -the dark. -Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over -the two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, -gave a long gasp or two and was still. The halfbreed muttered -"THAT score is settleddamn you." -Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in -Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three -fourfive minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His -hand closed upon the knife he raised it, glanced at it, and let it -fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and -gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's. -"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said. -"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving. -"What did you do it for?" -"I I never done it" -"Look here That kind of talk won't wash." -Potter trembled and grew white. -"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink tonight. But it's -in my head yetworse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle -can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, JoeHONEST, now, old -fellerdid I do it? Joe, I never meant to'pon my soul and honor, I -never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awfuland him -so young and promising." -"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard -and you fell flat and then up you come, all reeling and staggering -like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched -you another awful clipand here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til -now." -"Oh, I didn't know what I was adoing. I wish I may die this minute if -I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I -reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but -never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell Say you -won't tell, Joethat's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and -stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you, -Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid -murderer, and clasped his appealing hands. -"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I -won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say." -"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I -live." And Potter began to cry. -"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. -You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any -tracks behind you." -Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The -halfbreed stood looking after him. He muttered -"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he -had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so -far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself -chickenheart" -Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the -lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the -moon's. The stillness was complete again, too. -CHAPTER X -THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with -horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time, -apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump -that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them -catch their breath and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay -near the village, the barking of the aroused watchdogs seemed to give -wings to their feet. -"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down" -whispered Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it much -longer." -Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed -their eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it. -They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst -through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering -shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered -"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?" -"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it." -"Do you though?" -"Why, I KNOW it, Tom." -Tom thought a while, then he said -"Who'll tell? We?" -"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe -DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure as -we're a laying here." -"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck." -"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's -generally drunk enough." -Tom said nothingwent on thinking. Presently he whispered -"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?" -"What's the reason he don't know it?" -"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon -he could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?" -"By hokey, that's so, Tom" -"And besides, lookaheremaybe that whack done for HIM" -"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him I could see that and -besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt -him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so, -his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a -man was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him I dono." -After another reflective silence, Tom said -"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?" -"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't -make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to -squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, lookahere, Tom, less -take and swear to one anotherthat's what we got to doswear to keep -mum." -"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear -that we" -"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little -rubbishy common thingsspecially with gals, cuz THEY go back on you -anyway, and blab if they get in a huffbut there orter be writing -'bout a big thing like this. And blood." -Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and -awful the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping -with it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight, -took a little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on -his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow -downstroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up -the pressure on the upstrokes. [See next page.] -"Huck Finn and -Tom Sawyer swears -they will keep mum -about This and They -wish They may Drop -down dead in Their -Tracks if They ever -Tell and Rot." -Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, -and the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapel -and was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said -"Hold on Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on -it." -"What's verdigrease?" -"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once -you'll see." -So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy -pricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In -time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the -ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to -make an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle -close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and -the fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and -the key thrown away. -A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the -ruined building, now, but they did not notice it. -"Tom," whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from EVER telling -ALWAYS?" -"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we got -to keep mum. We'd drop down deaddon't YOU know that?" -"Yes, I reckon that's so." -They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up -a long, lugubrious howl just outsidewithin ten feet of them. The boys -clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright. -"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry. -"I donopeep through the crack. Quick" -"No, YOU, Tom" -"I can'tI can't DO it, Huck" -"Please, Tom. There 'tis again" -"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull -Harbison." -[ If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of -him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull -Harbison."] -"Oh, that's goodI tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death I'd a -bet anything it was a STRAY dog." -The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more. -"Oh, my that ain't no Bull Harbison" whispered Huckleberry. "DO, Tom" -Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His -whisper was hardly audible when he said -"Oh, Huck, IT S A STRAY DOG" -"Quick, Tom, quick Who does he mean?" -"Huck, he must mean us bothwe're right together." -"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout -where I'LL go to. I been so wicked." -"Dad fetch it This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a -feller's told NOT to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a tried -but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I lay -I'll just WALLER in Sundayschools" And Tom began to snuffle a little. -"YOU bad" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom -Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside o' what I am. Oh, LORDY, lordy, -lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance." -Tom choked off and whispered -"Look, Hucky, look He's got his BACK to us" -Hucky looked, with joy in his heart. -"Well, he has, by jingoes Did he before?" -"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully, -you know. NOW who can he mean?" -The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears. -"Sh What's that?" he whispered. -"Sounds likelike hogs grunting. Noit's somebody snoring, Tom." -"That IS it Where 'bouts is it, Huck?" -"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to -sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he -just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever -coming back to this town any more." -The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more. -"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?" -"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe" -Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the -boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to -their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily -down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps -of the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap. -The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight. -It was Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes -too, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoed -out, through the broken weatherboarding, and stopped at a little -distance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on -the night air again They turned and saw the strange dog standing -within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with -his nose pointing heavenward. -"Oh, geeminy, it's HIM" exclaimed both boys, in a breath. -"Say, Tomthey say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's -house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago and a whippoorwill -come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening and -there ain't anybody dead there yet." -"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall -in the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?" -"Yes, but she ain't DEAD. And what's more, she's getting better, too." -"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff -Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about -these kind of things, Huck." -Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom -window the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution, -and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his -escapade. He was not aware that the gentlysnoring Sid was awake, and -had been so for an hour. -When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the -light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not -been calledpersecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled -him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and downstairs, -feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had -finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke but there were -averted eyes there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a -chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it -was uphill work it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into -silence and let his heart sink down to the depths. -After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in -the hope that he was going to be flogged but it was not so. His aunt -wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so -and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray -hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any -more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was -sorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised -to reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling -that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a -feeble confidence. -He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid -and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was -unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging, -along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air -of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to -trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his -desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony -stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go. -His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time -he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with -a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal -sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob -This final feather broke the camel's back. -CHAPTER XI -CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified -with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamedof telegraph -the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to -house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the -schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon the town would have -thought strangely of him if he had not. -A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been -recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potterso the story ran. -And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing -himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and -that Potter had at once sneaked offsuspicious circumstances, -especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also -said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" the public -are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a -verdict, but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down -all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that -he would be captured before night. -All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak -vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a -thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, -unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, -he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal -spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody -pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both -looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything -in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the -grisly spectacle before them. -"Poor fellow" "Poor young fellow" "This ought to be a lesson to -grave robbers" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him" This -was the drift of remark and the minister said, "It was a judgment His -hand is here." -Now Tom shivered from head to heel for his eye fell upon the stolid -face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, -and voices shouted, "It's him it's him he's coming himself" -"Who? Who?" from twenty voices. -"Muff Potter" -"Hallo, he's stoppedLook out, he's turning Don't let him get away" -People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't -trying to get awayhe only looked doubtful and perplexed. -"Infernal impudence" said a bystander "wanted to come and take a -quiet look at his work, I reckondidn't expect any company." -The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, -ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was -haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood -before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face -in his hands and burst into tears. -"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed "'pon my word and honor I never -done it." -"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice. -This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked -around him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, -and exclaimed -"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never" -"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff. -Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to -the ground. Then he said -"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get" He shuddered -then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell -'em, Joe, tell 'emit ain't any use any more." -Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the -stonyhearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every -moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, -and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had -finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to -break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and -vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and -it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that. -"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody -said. -"I couldn't help itI couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to -run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell -to sobbing again. -Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes -afterward on the inquest, under oath and the boys, seeing that the -lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe -had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most -balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could -not take their fascinated eyes from his face. -They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should -offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master. -Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a -wagon for removal and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd -that the wound bled a little The boys thought that this happy -circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction but they were -disappointed, for more than one villager remarked -"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it." -Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as -much as a week after this and at breakfast one morning Sid said -"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me -awake half the time." -Tom blanched and dropped his eyes. -"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your -mind, Tom?" -"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he -spilled his coffee. -"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's -blood, it's blood, that's what it is' You said that over and over. And -you said, 'Don't torment me soI'll tell' Tell WHAT? What is it -you'll tell?" -Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might -have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's -face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said -"Sho It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night -myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it." -Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed -satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could, -and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his -jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and -frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow -listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage -back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and -the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to -make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself. -It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding -inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his -mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, -though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises -he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witnessand that was -strange and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a -marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he -could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out -of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience. -Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his -opportunity and went to the little grated jailwindow and smuggled such -small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The -jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge -of the village, and no guards were afforded for it indeed, it was -seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's -conscience. -The villagers had a strong desire to tarandfeather Injun Joe and -ride him on a rail, for bodysnatching, but so formidable was his -character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead -in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of -his inqueststatements with the fight, without confessing the -graverobbery that preceded it therefore it was deemed wisest not -to try the case in the courts at present. -CHAPTER XII -ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret -troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interest -itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had -struggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the -wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's -house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she -should die There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an -interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone there -was nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat -there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to -try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who are -infatuated with patent medicines and all newfangled methods of -producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in -these things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in a -fever, right away, to try it not on herself, for she was never ailing, -but on anybody else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the -"Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds and the solemn ignorance -they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they -contained about ventilation, and how to go to bed, and how to get up, -and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, and -what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to -wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her -healthjournals of the current month customarily upset everything they -had recommended the month before. She was as simplehearted and honest -as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered -together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed -with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with -"hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an -angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering -neighbors. -The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a -windfall to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him -up in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water then -she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to -then she rolled him up in a wet sheet and put him away under blankets -till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came -through his pores"as Tom said. -Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy -and pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, -and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to -assist the water with a slim oatmeal diet and blisterplasters. She -calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every -day with quack curealls. -Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase -filled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference must -be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Painkiller for the first -time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with -gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the water -treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Painkiller. She -gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the -result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again -for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a -wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him. -Tom felt that it was time to wake up this sort of life might be -romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have -too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he -thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of -professing to be fond of Painkiller. He asked for it so often that he -became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself -and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no -misgivings to alloy her delight but since it was Tom, she watched the -bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, -but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a -crack in the sittingroom floor with it. -One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow -cat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and begging -for a taste. Tom said -"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter." -But Peter signified that he did want it. -"You better make sure." -Peter was sure. -"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't -anything mean about me but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't -blame anybody but your own self." -Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the -Painkiller. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then -delivered a warwhoop and set off round and round the room, banging -against furniture, upsetting flowerpots, and making general havoc. -Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of -enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming -his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again -spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time -to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty -hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the -flowerpots with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, -peering over her glasses Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter. -"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?" -"I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy. -"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?" -"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly cats always act so when they're having -a good time." -"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom -apprehensive. -"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do." -"You DO?" -"Yes'm." -The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized -by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale -teaspoon was visible under the bedvalance. Aunt Polly took it, held it -up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the -usual handlehis earand cracked his head soundly with her thimble. -"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?" -"I done it out of pity for himbecause he hadn't any aunt." -"Hadn't any auntyou numskull. What has that got to do with it?" -"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself She'd a -roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a -human" -Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing -in a new light what was cruelty to a cat MIGHT be cruelty to a boy, -too. She began to soften she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, -and she put her hand on Tom's head and said gently -"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it DID do you good." -Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping -through his gravity. -"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. -It done HIM good, too. I never see him get around so since" -"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you -try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take -any more medicine." -Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange -thing had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late, -he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his -comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to -be looking everywhere but whither he really was lookingdown the road. -Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted he gazed -a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom -accosted him and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark about -Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and -watched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the -owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocks -ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps he entered -the empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock -passed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The next -instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian yelling, laughing, -chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing -handsprings, standing on his headdoing all the heroic things he could -conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if -Becky Thatcher was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it -all she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware that -he was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity came -warwhooping around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the -schoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in every -direction, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost -upsetting herand she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heard -her say "Mf some people think they're mighty smartalways showing -off" -Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed -and crestfallen. -CHAPTER XIII -TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a -forsaken, friendless boy, he said nobody loved him when they found -out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry he had -tried to do right and get along, but they would not let him since -nothing would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so and let them -blame HIM for the consequenceswhy shouldn't they? What right had the -friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last he -would lead a life of crime. There was no choice. -By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to -"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he -should never, never hear that old familiar sound any moreit was very -hard, but it was forced on him since he was driven out into the cold -world, he must submitbut he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick -and fast. -Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper -hardeyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his heart. -Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, wiping -his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about a -resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by -roaming abroad into the great world never to return and ended by -hoping that Joe would not forget him. -But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been -going to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His -mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never -tasted and knew nothing about it was plain that she was tired of him -and wished him to go if she felt that way, there was nothing for him -to do but succumb he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having -driven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die. -As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to -stand by each other and be brothers and never separate till death -relieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. -Joe was for being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and -dying, some time, of cold and want and grief but after listening to -Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a -life of crime, and so he consented to be a pirate. -Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi -River was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded -island, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as -a rendezvous. It was not inhabited it lay far over toward the further -shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's -Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a -matter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry -Finn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him he -was indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on -the riverbank two miles above the village at the favorite hourwhich -was midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to -capture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he -could steal in the most dark and mysterious wayas became outlaws. And -before the afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet -glory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear -something." All who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and -wait." -About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles, -and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the -meetingplace. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay -like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the -quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under -the bluff. Tom whistled twice more these signals were answered in the -same way. Then a guarded voice said -"Who goes there?" -"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names." -"Huck Finn the RedHanded, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom -had furnished these titles, from his favorite literature. -"'Tis well. Give the countersign." -Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to -the brooding night -"BLOOD" -Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it, -tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There was -an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it -lacked the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate. -The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn -himself out with getting it there. Finn the RedHanded had stolen a -skillet and a quantity of halfcured leaf tobacco, and had also brought -a few corncobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or -"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said it -would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought -matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire -smouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went -stealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an -imposing adventure of it, saying, "Hist" every now and then, and -suddenly halting with finger on lip moving with hands on imaginary -daggerhilts and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe" -stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no -tales." They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the -village laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was no -excuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical way. -They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and -Joe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomybrowed, and with folded -arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper -"Luff, and bring her to the wind" -"Ayeaye, sir" -"Steady, steadyyyy" -"Steady it is, sir" -"Let her go off a point" -"Point it is, sir" -As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward midstream -it was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for -"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular. -"What sail's she carrying?" -"Courses, tops'ls, and flyingjib, sir." -"Send the r'yals up Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye -foretopmaststuns'l Lively, now" -"Ayeaye, sir" -"Shake out that maintogalans'l Sheets and braces NOW my hearties" -"Ayeaye, sir" -"Hellumaleehard a port Stand by to meet her when she comes Port, -port NOW, men With a will Steadyyy" -"Steady it is, sir" -The raft drew beyond the middle of the river the boys pointed her -head right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so -there was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was -said during the next threequarters of an hour. Now the raft was -passing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed -where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of -stargemmed water, unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. -The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon -the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing -"she" could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death -with dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. -It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island -beyond eyeshot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a -broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last, -too and they all looked so long that they came near letting the -current drift them out of the range of the island. But they discovered -the danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in -the morning the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the -head of the island, and they waded back and forth until they had landed -their freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old -sail, and this they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to -shelter their provisions but they themselves would sleep in the open -air in good weather, as became outlaws. -They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty -steps within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some -bacon in the fryingpan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone" -stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that -wild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited -island, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would -return to civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw -its ruddy glare upon the pillared treetrunks of their forest temple, -and upon the varnished foliage and festooning vines. -When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance of -corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass, -filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but they -would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roasting -campfire. -"AIN'T it gay?" said Joe. -"It's NUTS" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?" -"Say? Well, they'd just die to be herehey, Hucky" -"I reckon so," said Huckleberry "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want -nothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'allyand -here they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so." -"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up, -mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all that -blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe, -when he's ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, and -then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way." -"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, -you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it." -"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like -they used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And a -hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put -sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and" -"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck. -"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do -that if you was a hermit." -"Dern'd if I would," said Huck. -"Well, what would you do?" -"I dono. But I wouldn't do that." -"Why, Huck, you'd HAVE to. How'd you get around it?" -"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away." -"Run away Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be -a disgrace." -The RedHanded made no response, being better employed. He had -finished gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded -it with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a -cloud of fragrant smokehe was in the full bloom of luxurious -contentment. The other pirates envied him this majestic vice, and -secretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said -"What does pirates have to do?" -Tom said -"Oh, they have just a bully timetake ships and burn them, and get -the money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's -ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the shipsmake -'em walk a plank." -"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe "they don't kill -the women." -"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the womenthey're too noble. And -the women's always beautiful, too. -"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes Oh no All gold and silver -and di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm. -"Who?" said Huck. -"Why, the pirates." -Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly. -"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a -regretful pathos in his voice "but I ain't got none but these." -But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough, -after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understand -that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary for -wealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe. -Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the -eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of the -RedHanded, and he slept the sleep of the consciencefree and the -weary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main -had more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers -inwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority -to make them kneel and recite aloud in truth, they had a mind not to -say them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as -that, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from -heaven. Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge -of sleepbut an intruder came, now, that would not "down." It was -conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing -wrong to run away and next they thought of the stolen meat, and then -the real torture came. They tried to argue it away by reminding -conscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of -times but conscience was not to be appeased by such thin -plausibilities it seemed to them, in the end, that there was no -getting around the stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only -"hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such valuables was plain -simple stealingand there was a command against that in the Bible. So -they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business, -their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing. -Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent -pirates fell peacefully to sleep. -CHAPTER XIV -WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and -rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the -cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in -the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred -not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops -stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the -fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe -and Huck still slept. -Now, far away in the woods a bird called another answered presently -the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of -the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life -manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to -work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came -crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting twothirds of his body into the air -from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding againfor he -was measuring, Tom said and when the worm approached him, of its own -accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, -by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to -go elsewhere and when at last it considered a painful moment with its -curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and -began a journey over him, his whole heart was gladfor that meant that -he was going to have a new suit of clotheswithout the shadow of a -doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, -from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors one struggled -manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms, -and lugged it straight up a treetrunk. A brown spotted ladybug -climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to -it and said, "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, your house is on fire, -your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it -which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was -credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its -simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at -its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against -its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this -time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head, -and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of -enjoyment then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and -stopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one -side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity a gray squirrel -and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at -intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had -probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to -be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now long -lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, -and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene. -Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a -shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and -tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white -sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the -distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a -slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only -gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge -between them and civilization. -They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, gladhearted, and -ravenous and they soon had the campfire blazing up again. Huck found -a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad -oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a -wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. -While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to -hold on a minute they stepped to a promising nook in the riverbank -and threw in their lines almost immediately they had reward. Joe had -not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some -handsome bass, a couple of sunperch and a small catfishprovisions -enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were -astonished for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did -not know that the quicker a freshwater fish is on the fire after he is -caught the better he is and they reflected little upon what a sauce -openair sleeping, openair exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient -of hunger make, too. -They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, -and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They -tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush, -among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the -ground with a drooping regalia of grapevines. Now and then they came -upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers. -They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be -astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles -long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to -was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards -wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the -middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too -hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and -then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon -began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded -in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the -spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing -crept upon them. This took dim shape, presentlyit was budding -homesickness. Even Finn the RedHanded was dreaming of his doorsteps -and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and -none was brave enough to speak his thought. -For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar -sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a -clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound -became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, -glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. -There was a long silence, profound and unbroken then a deep, sullen -boom came floating down out of the distance. -"What is it" exclaimed Joe, under his breath. -"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper. -"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder" -"Hark" said Tom. "Listendon't talk." -They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom -troubled the solemn hush. -"Let's go and see." -They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. -They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The -little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting -with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were -a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the -neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what -the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst -from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, -that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again. -"I know now" exclaimed Tom "somebody's drownded" -"That's it" said Huck "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner -got drownded they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him -come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put -quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody -that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop." -"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread -do that." -"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom "I reckon it's mostly -what they SAY over it before they start it out." -"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and -they don't." -"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves. -Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that." -The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because -an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be -expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such -gravity. -"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe. -"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is." -The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought -flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed -"Boys, I know who's drowndedit's us" -They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph they -were missed they were mourned hearts were breaking on their account -tears were being shed accusing memories of unkindness to these poor -lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being -indulged and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole -town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety -was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after -all. -As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed -business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They -were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious -trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, -and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying -about them and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their -account were gratifying to look uponfrom their point of view. But -when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to -talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently -wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe -could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not -enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came they -grew troubled and unhappy a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by -Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others -might look upon a return to civilizationnot right now, but -Tom withered him with derision Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined -in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get -out of the scrape with as little taint of chickenhearted homesickness -clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to -rest for the moment. -As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe -followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, -watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, -and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung -by the campfire. He picked up and inspected several large -semicylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose -two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully -wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel" one he rolled up -and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and -removed it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into the -hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable valueamong them -a lump of chalk, an Indiarubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that -kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his -way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, -and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar. -CHAPTER XV -A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading -toward the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was -halfway over the current would permit no more wading, now, so he -struck out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam -quartering upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he -had expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along -till he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his -jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through -the woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before -ten o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and -saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank. -Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, -watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four -strokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat's -stern. He laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting. -Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast -off." A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up, -against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in -his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At -the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and Tom -slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards -downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers. -He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his -aunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell," and looked in -at the sittingroom window, for a light was burning there. There sat -Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together, -talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the -door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch then he -pressed gently and the door yielded a crack he continued pushing -cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might -squeeze through on his knees so he put his head through and began, -warily. -"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. -"Why, that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of -strange things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid." -Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed" -himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his -aunt's foot. -"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say -only mischEEvous. Only just giddy, and harumscarum, you know. He -warn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, and -he was the besthearted boy that ever was"and she began to cry. -"It was just so with my Joealways full of his devilment, and up to -every kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as he -could beand laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking -that cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself -because it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never, -never, never, poor abused boy" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart -would break. -"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been -better in some ways" -"SID" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not -see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone God'll take -care of HIMnever you trouble YOURself, sir Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't -know how to give him up I don't know how to give him up He was such a -comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most." -"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken awayBlessed be the name of -the Lord But it's so hardOh, it's so hard Only last Saturday my -Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him -sprawling. Little did I know then, how soonOh, if it was to do over -again I'd hug him and bless him for it." -"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just -exactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took -and filled the cat full of Painkiller, and I did think the cretur -would tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head -with my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all his -troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach" -But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely -down. Tom was snuffling, now, himselfand more in pity of himself than -anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly word -for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself -than ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt's -grief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with -joyand the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to -his nature, too, but he resisted and lay still. -He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was -conjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim -then the small raft had been missed next, certain boys said the -missing lads had promised that the village should "hear something" -soon the wiseheads had "put this and that together" and decided that -the lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town -below, presently but toward noon the raft had been found, lodged -against the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village -and then hope perished they must be drowned, else hunger would have -driven them home by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the -search for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the -drowning must have occurred in midchannel, since the boys, being good -swimmers, would otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday -night. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope would be -given over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom -shuddered. -Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing goodnight and turned to go. Then with a -mutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into each -other's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly -was tender far beyond her wont, in her goodnight to Sid and Mary. Sid -snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart. -Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so -appealingly, and with such measureless love in her words and her old -trembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before she -was through. -He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making -brokenhearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and -turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her -sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the -candlelight with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full -of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the -candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His -face lighted with a happy solution of his thought he put the bark -hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and -straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him. -He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large -there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was -tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and -slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped -into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a -mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself -stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for -this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the -skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore -legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be -made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and -entered the woods. -He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep -awake, and then started warily down the homestretch. The night was far -spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the -island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the -great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A -little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and -heard Joe say -"No, Tom's trueblue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He -knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for -that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?" -"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?" -"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't -back here to breakfast." -"Which he is" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping -grandly into camp. -A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as -the boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted and adorned his -adventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the -tale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till -noon, and the other pirates got ready to fish and explore. -CHAPTER XVI -AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the -bar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a -soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. -Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They -were perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an English -walnut. They had a famous friedegg feast that night, and another on -Friday morning. -After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and -chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until -they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal -water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their -legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. -And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each -other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with -averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and -struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all -went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, -sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time. -When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the -dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by -and by break for the water again and go through the original -performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked -skin represented fleshcolored "tights" very fairly so they drew a -ring in the sand and had a circuswith three clowns in it, for none -would yield this proudest post to his neighbor. -Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ringtaw" and -"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another -swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off -his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his -ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the -protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he -had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to -rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell -to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay -drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with -his big toe he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his -weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless he could not help it. He -erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving -the other boys together and joining them. -But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so -homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay -very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, -but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready -to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, -he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of -cheerfulness -"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore -it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light -on a rotten chest full of gold and silverhey?" -But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. -Tom tried one or two other seductions but they failed, too. It was -discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking -very gloomy. Finally he said -"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome." -"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of -the fishing that's here." -"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home." -"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimmingplace anywhere." -"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there -ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home." -"Oh, shucks Baby You want to see your mother, I reckon." -"Yes, I DO want to see my motherand you would, too, if you had one. -I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little. -"Well, we'll let the crybaby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? -Poor thingdoes it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like -it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?" -Huck said, "Yes"without any heart in it. -"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. -"There now" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself. -"Who cares" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get -laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't crybabies. -We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can -get along without him, per'aps." -But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go -sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see -Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an -ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade -off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at -Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said -"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now -it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom." -"I won't You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay." -"Tom, I better go." -"Well, go 'longwho's hendering you." -Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said -"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for -you when we get to shore." -"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all." -Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a -strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too. -He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It -suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He -made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his -comrades, yelling -"Wait Wait I want to tell you something" -They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they -were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at -last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a -warwhoop of applause and said it was "splendid" and said if he had -told them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausible -excuse but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret -would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had -meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction. -The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, -chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the -genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to -learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to -try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never -smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they "bit" -the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway. -Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, -charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant -taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said -"Why, it's just as easy If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt -long ago." -"So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing." -"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I -wish I could do that but I never thought I could," said Tom. -"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk -just that wayhaven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't." -"Yesheaps of times," said Huck. -"Well, I have too," said Tom "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the -slaughterhouse. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and -Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember, -Huck, 'bout me saying that?" -"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white -alley. No, 'twas the day before." -"ThereI told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it." -"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel -sick." -"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you -Jeff Thatcher couldn't." -"Jeff Thatcher Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him -try it once. HE'D see" -"I bet he would. And Johnny MillerI wish could see Johnny Miller -tackle it once." -"Oh, don't I" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any -more do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch HIM." -"'Deed it would, Joe. SayI wish the boys could see us now." -"So do I." -"Sayboys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're -around, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.' -And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll -say, 'Yes, I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't -very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's STRONG -enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as -ca'm, and then just see 'em look" -"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom I wish it was NOW" -"So do I And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, -won't they wish they'd been along?" -"Oh, I reckon not I'll just BET they will" -So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow -disjointed. The silences widened the expectoration marvellously -increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting -fountain they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues -fast enough to prevent an inundation little overflowings down their -throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings -followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable, -now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed. -Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might -and main. Joe said feebly -"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it." -Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance -"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the -spring. No, you needn't come, Huckwe can find it." -So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, -and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both -very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they -had had any trouble they had got rid of it. -They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, -and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare -theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very wellsomething they -ate at dinner had disagreed with them. -About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding -oppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boys -huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of -the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was -stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush -continued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in -the blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that -vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and by -another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came -sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting -breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit -of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned -night into day and showed every little grassblade, separate and -distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white, -startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling -down the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A -sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the -flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the -forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the treetops -right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick -gloom that followed. A few big raindrops fell pattering upon the -leaves. -"Quick boys, go for the tent" exclaimed Tom. -They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no -two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through the -trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after -another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a -drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets -along the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring -wind and the booming thunderblasts drowned their voices utterly. -However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under -the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water but to have company -in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the -old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have -allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the -sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast. -The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and -bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the riverbank. -Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of -lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in -cleancut and shadowless distinctness the bending trees, the billowy -river, white with foam, the driving spray of spumeflakes, the dim -outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the -drifting cloudrack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while -some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger -growth and the unflagging thunderpeals came now in earsplitting -explosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The storm -culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island -to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the treetops, blow it away, and -deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a -wild night for homeless young heads to be out in. -But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker -and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The -boys went back to camp, a good deal awed but they found there was -still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the -shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and -they were not under it when the catastrophe happened. -Everything in camp was drenched, the campfire as well for they were -but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision -against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through -and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress but they presently -discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had -been built against where it curved upward and separated itself from -the ground, that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting so -they patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the -under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then -they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and -were gladhearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a -feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified -their midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to -sleep on, anywhere around. -As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, -and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got -scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After -the meal they felt rusty, and stiffjointed, and a little homesick once -more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as -he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, -or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray -of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. This -was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a -change. They were attracted by this idea so it was not long before -they were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like -so many zebrasall of them chiefs, of courseand then they went -tearing through the woods to attack an English settlement. -By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon -each other from ambush with dreadful warwhoops, and killed and scalped -each other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an -extremely satisfactory one. -They assembled in camp toward suppertime, hungry and happy but now a -difficulty arosehostile Indians could not break the bread of -hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple -impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other -process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished -they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way so with -such show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe -and took their whiff as it passed, in due form. -And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had -gained something they found that they could now smoke a little without -having to go and hunt for a lost knife they did not get sick enough to -be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high -promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after -supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. -They were prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would -have been in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We will -leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use -for them at present. -CHAPTER XVII -BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil -Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being -put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet -possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all -conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, -and talked little but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a -burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and -gradually gave them up. -In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the -deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found -nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized -"Oh, if I only had a brass andironknob again But I haven't got -anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob. -Presently she stopped, and said to herself -"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say -thatI wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now I'll -never, never, never see him any more." -This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling -down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girlsplaymates of -Tom's and Joe'scame by, and stood looking over the paling fence and -talking in reverent tones of how Tom did soandso the last time they -saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle pregnant with -awful prophecy, as they could easily see nowand each speaker -pointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and -then added something like "and I was astanding just sojust as I am -now, and as if you was himI was as close as thatand he smiled, just -this wayand then something seemed to go all over me, likeawful, you -knowand I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now" -Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and -many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or -less tampered with by the witness and when it was ultimately decided -who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, -the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and -were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no -other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the -remembrance -"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once." -But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, -and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered -away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices. -When the Sundayschool hour was finished, the next morning, the bell -began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still -Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush -that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment -in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there -was no whispering in the house only the funereal rustling of dresses -as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None -could remember when the little church had been so full before. There -was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly -entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all -in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, -rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front -pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by -muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. -A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed "I am the Resurrection -and the Life." -As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the -graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that -every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in -remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always -before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor -boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the -departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the -people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes -were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had -seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The -congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, -till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping -mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way -to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit. -There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed a moment -later the church door creaked the minister raised his streaming eyes -above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed First one and then -another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one -impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came -marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of -drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear They had been hid in -the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon -Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored -ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while -poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to -do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and -started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said -"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck." -"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing" And -the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thing -capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before. -Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice "Praise God -from whom all blessings flowSINGand put your hearts in it" -And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and -while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the -envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was -the proudest moment of his life. -As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be -willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that -once more. -Tom got more cuffs and kisses that dayaccording to Aunt Polly's -varying moodsthan he had earned before in a year and he hardly knew -which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself. -CHAPTER XVIII -THAT was Tom's great secretthe scheme to return home with his -brother pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to -the Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six -miles below the village they had slept in the woods at the edge of the -town till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and -alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a -chaos of invalided benches. -At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to -Tom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount of -talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said -"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody -suffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pity -you could be so hardhearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come -over on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give -me a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off." -"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary "and I believe you -would if you had thought of it." -"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say, -now, would you, if you'd thought of it?" -"Iwell, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything." -"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved -tone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'd -cared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it." -"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary "it's only Tom's -giddy wayhe is always in such a rush that he never thinks of -anything." -"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and -DONE it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, and -wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so -little." -"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you," said Tom. -"I'd know it better if you acted more like it." -"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone "but I -dreamt about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?" -"It ain't mucha cat does that muchbut it's better than nothing. -What did you dream?" -"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the -bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him." -"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take -even that much trouble about us." -"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here." -"Why, she was here Did you dream any more?" -"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now." -"Well, try to recollectcan't you?" -"Somehow it seems to me that the windthe wind blowed thethe" -"Try harder, Tom The wind did blow something. Come" -Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then -said -"I've got it now I've got it now It blowed the candle" -"Mercy on us Go on, Tomgo on" -"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door'" -"Go ON, Tom" -"Just let me study a momentjust a moment. Oh, yesyou said you -believed the door was open." -"As I'm sitting here, I did Didn't I, Mary Go on" -"And thenand thenwell I won't be certain, but it seems like as if -you made Sid go andand" -"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?" -"You made himyouOh, you made him shut it." -"Well, for the land's sake I never heard the beat of that in all my -days Don't tell ME there ain't anything in dreams, any more. Sereny -Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her -get around THIS with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom" -"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I -warn't BAD, only mischeevous and harumscarum, and not any more -responsible thanthanI think it was a colt, or something." -"And so it was Well, goodness gracious Go on, Tom" -"And then you began to cry." -"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then" -"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same, -and she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd -throwed it out her own self" -"Tom The sperrit was upon you You was a prophesyingthat's what you -was doing Land alive, go on, Tom" -"Then Sid he saidhe said" -"I don't think I said anything," said Sid. -"Yes you did, Sid," said Mary. -"Shut your heads and let Tom go on What did he say, Tom?" -"He saidI THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone -to, but if I'd been better sometimes" -"THERE, d'you hear that It was his very words" -"And you shut him up sharp." -"I lay I did There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angel -there, somewheres" -"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and -you told about Peter and the Painkiller" -"Just as true as I live" -"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for -us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss -Harper hugged and cried, and she went." -"It happened just so It happened just so, as sure as I'm asitting in -these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a' -seen it And then what? Go on, Tom" -"Then I thought you prayed for meand I could see you and hear every -word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and -wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't deadwe are only off -being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle and then you -looked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned -over and kissed you on the lips." -"Did you, Tom, DID you I just forgive you everything for that" And -she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the -guiltiest of villains. -"It was very kind, even though it was only adream," Sid soliloquized -just audibly. -"Shut up, Sid A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he -was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if -you was ever found againnow go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the -good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's longsuffering -and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though -goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His -blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's -few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long -night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tomtake yourselves offyou've -hendered me long enough." -The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper -and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better -judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the -house. It was this "Pretty thinas long a dream as that, without any -mistakes in it" -What a hero Tom was become, now He did not go skipping and prancing, -but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the -public eye was on him. And indeed it was he tried not to seem to see -the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food -and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as -proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the -drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie -into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away -at all but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would -have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his -glittering notoriety and Tom would not have parted with either for a -circus. -At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered -such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not -long in becoming insufferably "stuckup." They began to tell their -adventures to hungry listenersbut they only began it was not a thing -likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish -material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely -puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached. -Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory -was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished, -maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let hershe should see -that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she -arrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a group -of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was -tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, -pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter -when she made a capture but he noticed that she always made her -captures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye -in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the vicious -vanity that was in him and so, instead of winning him, it only "set -him up" the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying that -he knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and moved -irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and -wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking more -particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp -pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but -her feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. She -said to a girl almost at Tom's elbowwith sham vivacity -"Why, Mary Austin you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sundayschool?" -"I did comedidn't you see me?" -"Why, no Did you? Where did you sit?" -"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw YOU." -"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about -the picnic." -"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?" -"My ma's going to let me have one." -"Oh, goody I hope she'll let ME come." -"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I -want, and I want you." -"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?" -"By and by. Maybe about vacation." -"Oh, won't it be fun You going to have all the girls and boys?" -"Yes, every one that's friends to meor wants to be" and she glanced -ever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence -about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the -great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within -three feet of it." -"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller. -"Yes." -"And me?" said Sally Rogers. -"Yes." -"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?" -"Yes." -And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged -for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still -talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears -came to her eyes she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on -chattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of -everything else she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and -had what her sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded -pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast -in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what -SHE'D do. -At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant -selfsatisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate -her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden -falling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind -the schoolhouse looking at a picturebook with Alfred Templeand so -absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, -that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides. -Jealousy ran redhot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself for -throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He -called himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He -wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked, -for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He -did not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly he -could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as -otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and -again, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could -not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, that -Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the -living. But she did see, nevertheless and she knew she was winning her -fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered. -Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to -attend to things that must be done and time was fleeting. But in -vainthe girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever -going to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those -thingsand she said artlessly that she would be "around" when school -let out. And he hastened away, hating her for it. -"Any other boy" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole -town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is -aristocracy Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw -this town, mister, and I'll lick you again You just wait till I catch -you out I'll just take and" -And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy -pummelling the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You -holler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you" And so the -imaginary flogging was finished to his satisfaction. -Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of -Amy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of the -other distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but -as the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph -began to cloud and she lost interest gravity and absentmindedness -followed, and then melancholy two or three times she pricked up her -ear at a footstep, but it was a false hope no Tom came. At last she -grew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. When -poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept -exclaiming "Oh, here's a jolly one look at this" she lost patience -at last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me I don't care for them" and -burst into tears, and got up and walked away. -Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but she -said -"Go away and leave me alone, can't you I hate you" -So the boy halted, wondering what he could have donefor she had said -she would look at pictures all through the nooningand she walked on, -crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was -humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truththe girl -had simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer. -He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him. -He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much -risk to himself. Tom's spellingbook fell under his eye. Here was his -opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and -poured ink upon the page. -Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act, -and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now, -intending to find Tom and tell him Tom would be thankful and their -troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she -had changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when she -was talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with -shame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged -spellingbook's account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain. -CHAPTER XIX -TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt -said to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to an -unpromising market -"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive" -"Auntie, what have I done?" -"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an -old softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbage -about that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that -you was over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I -don't know what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makes -me feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make -such a fool of myself and never say a word." -This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had -seemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked -mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything -to say for a moment. Then he said -"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done itbut I didn't think." -"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your own -selfishness. You could think to come all the way over here from -Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could -think to fool me with a lie about a dream but you couldn't ever think -to pity us and save us from sorrow." -"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I -didn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at you -that night." -"What did you come for, then?" -"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't got -drownded." -"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could -believe you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you never -didand I know it, Tom." -"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntieI wish I may never stir if I didn't." -"Oh, Tom, don't liedon't do it. It only makes things a hundred times -worse." -"It ain't a lie, auntie it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from -grievingthat was all that made me come." -"I'd give the whole world to believe thatit would cover up a power -of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it -ain't reasonable because, why didn't you tell me, child?" -"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got -all full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I -couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my -pocket and kept mum." -"What bark?" -"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, -you'd waked up when I kissed youI do, honest." -The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness -dawned in her eyes. -"DID you kiss me, Tom?" -"Why, yes, I did." -"Are you sure you did, Tom?" -"Why, yes, I did, auntiecertain sure." -"What did you kiss me for, Tom?" -"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry." -The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in -her voice when she said -"Kiss me again, Tomand be off with you to school, now, and don't -bother me any more." -The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a -jacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her -hand, and said to herself -"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about itbut it's a -blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope the -LordI KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was such -goodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's a -lie. I won't look." -She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put -out her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once -more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the -thought "It's a good lieit's a good lieI won't let it grieve me." -So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom's -piece of bark through flowing tears and saying "I could forgive the -boy, now, if he'd committed a million sins" -CHAPTER XX -THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, -that swept away his low spirits and made him lighthearted and happy -again. He started to school and had the luck of coming upon Becky -Thatcher at the head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his -manner. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to her and said -"I acted mighty mean today, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, -ever do that way again, as long as ever I liveplease make up, won't -you?" -The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face -"I'll thank you to keep yourself TO yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll -never speak to you again." -She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had not -even presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the -right time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in a -fine rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were -a boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were. He presently -encountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. She -hurled one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to -Becky, in her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for school to -"take in," she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured -spellingbook. If she had had any lingering notion of exposing Alfred -Temple, Tom's offensive fling had driven it entirely away. -Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. -The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached middle age with an unsatisfied -ambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but poverty -had decreed that he should be nothing higher than a village -schoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book out of his desk and -absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He kept -that book under lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but was -perishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every boy -and girl had a theory about the nature of that book but no two -theories were alike, and there was no way of getting at the facts in -the case. Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near the -door, she noticed that the key was in the lock It was a precious -moment. She glanced around found herself alone, and the next instant -she had the book in her hands. The titlepageProfessor Somebody's -ANATOMYcarried no information to her mind so she began to turn the -leaves. She came at once upon a handsomely engraved and colored -frontispiecea human figure, stark naked. At that moment a shadow fell -on the page and Tom Sawyer stepped in at the door and caught a glimpse -of the picture. Becky snatched at the book to close it, and had the -hard luck to tear the pictured page half down the middle. She thrust -the volume into the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying with -shame and vexation. -"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on a -person and look at what they're looking at." -"How could I know you was looking at anything?" -"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer you know you're -going to tell on me, and oh, what shall I do, what shall I do I'll be -whipped, and I never was whipped in school." -Then she stamped her little foot and said -"BE so mean if you want to I know something that's going to happen. -You just wait and you'll see Hateful, hateful, hateful"and she -flung out of the house with a new explosion of crying. -Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he said -to himself -"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is Never been licked in school -Shucks What's a licking That's just like a girlthey're so -thinskinned and chickenhearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tell -old Dobbins on this little fool, because there's other ways of getting -even on her, that ain't so mean but what of it? Old Dobbins will ask -who it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the way -he always doesask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to the -right girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls' faces always tell -on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's a -kind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any way -out of it." Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then added "All -right, though she'd like to see me in just such a fixlet her sweat it -out" -Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments -the master arrived and school "took in." Tom did not feel a strong -interest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls' -side of the room Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, he -did not want to pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. He -could get up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presently -the spellingbook discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely full -of his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused up from her -lethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She -did not expect that Tom could get out of his trouble by denying that he -spilt the ink on the book himself and she was right. The denial only -seemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would be -glad of that, and she tried to believe she was glad of it, but she -found she was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had an -impulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort and -forced herself to keep stillbecause, said she to herself, "he'll tell -about me tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to save -his life" -Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all -brokenhearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly -upset the ink on the spellingbook himself, in some skylarking bouthe -had denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck -to the denial from principle. -A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air -was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened -himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, -but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the -pupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched -his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently -for a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read -Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit -look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot -his quarrel with her. Quicksomething must be done done in a flash, -too But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. -Goodhe had an inspiration He would run and snatch the book, spring -through the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little -instant, and the chance was lostthe master opened the volume. If Tom -only had the wasted opportunity back again Too late. There was no help -for Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. -Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even -the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten -the master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke "Who tore this book?" -There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness -continued the master searched face after face for signs of guilt. -"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?" -A denial. Another pause. -"Joseph Harper, did you?" -Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the -slow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of -boysconsidered a while, then turned to the girls -"Amy Lawrence?" -A shake of the head. -"Gracie Miller?" -The same sign. -"Susan Harper, did you do this?" -Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling -from head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of -the situation. -"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her faceit was white with terror] -"did you tearno, look me in the face" [her hands rose in appeal] -"did you tear this book?" -A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his -feet and shouted"I done it" -The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a -moment, to gather his dismembered faculties and when he stepped -forward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the -adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay -enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own -act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. -Dobbins had ever administered and also received with indifference the -added cruelty of a command to remain two hours after school should be -dismissedfor he knew who would wait for him outside till his -captivity was done, and not count the tedious time as loss, either. -Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple -for with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting -her own treachery but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, -soon, to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's -latest words lingering dreamily in his ear -"Tom, how COULD you be so noble" -CHAPTER XXI -VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew -severer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make a -good showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom -idle nowat least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and -young ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins' -lashings were very vigorous ones, too for although he carried, under -his wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle -age, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the great -day approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface he -seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the least -shortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent their -days in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. They -threw away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he kept -ahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengeful -success was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired from -the field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon a -plan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the signpainter's -boy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasons -for being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family and -had given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would go -on a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing to -interfere with the plan the master always prepared himself for great -occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the signpainter's boy -said that when the dominie had reached the proper condition on -Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in his -chair then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurried -away to school. -In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in -the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with -wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in -his great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him. -He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side and -six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town -and by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of -citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated the -scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening rows of -small boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort -rows of gawky big boys snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad in -lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their -grandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and -the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled with -nonparticipating scholars. -The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly -recited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on the -stage," etc.accompanying himself with the painfully exact and -spasmodic gestures which a machine might have usedsupposing the -machine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, though -cruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made his -manufactured bow and retired. -A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc., -performed a compassioninspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and -sat down flushed and happy. -Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into -the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death" -speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the -middle of it. A ghastly stagefright seized him, his legs quaked under -him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the -house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than -its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom -struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak -attempt at applause, but it died early. -"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed also "The Assyrian Came -Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises, -and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The -prime feature of the evening was in order, noworiginal "compositions" -by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of -the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript tied with -dainty ribbon, and proceeded to read, with labored attention to -"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been -illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their -grandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line -clear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one "Memories of Other -Days" "Religion in History" "Dream Land" "The Advantages of -Culture" "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted" -"Melancholy" "Filial Love" "Heart Longings," etc., etc. -A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted -melancholy another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language" -another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words -and phrases until they were worn entirely out and a peculiarity that -conspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerable -sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one -of them. No matter what the subject might be, a brainracking effort -was made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral and -religious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring -insincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass the -banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient -today it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps. -There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feel -obliged to close their compositions with a sermon and you will find -that the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl in -the school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. But -enough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable. -Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was -read was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader can -endure an extract from it -"In the common walks of life, with what delightful -emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some -anticipated scene of festivity Imagination is busy -sketching rosetinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the -voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the -festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her -graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling -through the mazes of the joyous dance her eye is -brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly. -"In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, -and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into -the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright -dreams. How fairylike does everything appear to -her enchanted vision Each new scene is more charming -than the last. But after a while she finds that -beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the -flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates -harshly upon her ear the ballroom has lost its -charms and with wasted health and imbittered heart, -she turns away with the conviction that earthly -pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul" -And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to -time during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "How -sweet" "How eloquent" "So true" etc., and after the thing had closed -with a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic. -Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting" -paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Two -stanzas of it will do -"A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA -"Alabama, goodbye I love thee well -But yet for a while do I leave thee now -Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, -And burning recollections throng my brow -For I have wandered through thy flowery woods -Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream -Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods, -And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam. -"Yet shame I not to bear an o'erfull heart, -Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes -'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, -'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs. -Welcome and home were mine within this State, -Whose vales I leavewhose spires fade fast from me -And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, -When, dear Alabama they turn cold on thee" -There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem was -very satisfactory, nevertheless. -Next appeared a darkcomplexioned, blackeyed, blackhaired young -lady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, and -began to read in a measured, solemn tone -"A VISION -"Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the -throne on high not a single star quivered but -the deep intonations of the heavy thunder -constantly vibrated upon the ear whilst the -terrific lightning revelled in angry mood -through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming -to scorn the power exerted over its terror by -the illustrious Franklin Even the boisterous -winds unanimously came forth from their mystic -homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by -their aid the wildness of the scene. -"At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human -sympathy my very spirit sighed but instead thereof, -"'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter -and guideMy joy in grief, my second bliss -in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of -those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks -of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a -queen of beauty unadorned save by her own -transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it -failed to make even a sound, and but for the -magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as -other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided -away unperceivedunsought. A strange sadness -rested upon her features, like icy tears upon -the robe of December, as she pointed to the -contending elements without, and bade me contemplate -the two beings presented." -This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with -a sermon so destructive of all hope to nonPresbyterians that it took -the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest -effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the -prize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it -was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that -Daniel Webster himself might well be proud of it. -It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in -which the word "beauteous" was overfondled, and human experience -referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average. -Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair -aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of -America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he -made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered -titter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and set -himself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them but he only -distorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. -He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not -to be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon -him he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued it -even manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above, -pierced with a scuttle over his head and down through this scuttle -came a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string she had a rag -tied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing as she slowly -descended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung -downward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higher -and higherthe cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher's -headdown, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with her -desperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in an -instant with her trophy still in her possession And how the light did -blaze abroad from the master's bald patefor the signpainter's boy -had GILDED it -That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come. -NOTEThe pretended "compositions" quoted in -this chapter are taken without alteration from a -volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western -Lady"but they are exactly and precisely after -the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much -happier than any mere imitations could be. -CHAPTER XXII -TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by -the showy character of their "regalia." He promised to abstain from -smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now he -found out a new thingnamely, that to promise not to do a thing is the -surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very -thing. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink and -swear the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a -chance to display himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawing -from the order. Fourth of July was coming but he soon gave that up -gave it up before he had worn his shackles over fortyeight hoursand -fixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was -apparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, since -he was so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concerned -about the Judge's condition and hungry for news of it. Sometimes his -hopes ran highso high that he would venture to get out his regalia -and practise before the lookingglass. But the Judge had a most -discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced upon the -mendand then convalescent. Tom was disgusted and felt a sense of -injury, too. He handed in his resignation at onceand that night the -Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would never -trust a man like that again. -The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated -to kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, however -there was something in that. He could drink and swear, nowbut found -to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could, -took the desire away, and the charm of it. -Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning -to hang a little heavily on his hands. -He attempted a diarybut nothing happened during three days, and so -he abandoned it. -The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a -sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and were -happy for two days. -Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained -hard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man in -the world as Tom supposed, Mr. Benton, an actual United States -Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointmentfor he was not -twentyfive feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it. -A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in -tents made of rag carpetingadmission, three pins for boys, two for -girlsand then circusing was abandoned. -A phrenologist and a mesmerizer cameand went again and left the -village duller and drearier than ever. -There were some boysandgirls' parties, but they were so few and so -delightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder. -Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her -parents during vacationso there was no bright side to life anywhere. -The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very -cancer for permanency and pain. -Then came the measles. -During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its -happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got -upon his feet at last and moved feebly downtown, a melancholy change -had come over everything and every creature. There had been a -"revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but -even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the -sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him -everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly -away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him -visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who -called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a -warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression -and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of -Huckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural quotation, his -heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all -the town was lost, forever and forever. -And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, -awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his -head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his -doom for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was -about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above -to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might -have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a -battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the -getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf -from under an insect like himself. -By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its -object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His -second was to waitfor there might not be any more storms. -The next day the doctors were back Tom had relapsed. The three weeks -he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad -at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how -lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted -listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a -juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her -victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a -stolen melon. Poor lads theylike Tomhad suffered a relapse. -CHAPTER XXIII -AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirredand vigorously the murder -trial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of village -talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to -the murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience and -fears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in his -hearing as "feelers" he did not see how he could be suspected of -knowing anything about the murder, but still he could not be -comfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver -all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him. -It would be some relief to unseal his tongue for a little while to -divide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he -wanted to assure himself that Huck had remained discreet. -"Huck, have you ever told anybody aboutthat?" -"'Bout what?" -"You know what." -"Oh'course I haven't." -"Never a word?" -"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?" -"Well, I was afeard." -"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out. -YOU know that." -Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause -"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?" -"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that halfbreed devil to drownd me -they could get me to tell. They ain't no different way." -"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep -mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer." -"I'm agreed." -So they swore again with dread solemnities. -"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it." -"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the -time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers." -"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner. -Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?" -"Most alwaysmost always. He ain't no account but then he hain't -ever done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money -to get drunk onand loafs around considerable but lord, we all do -thatleastways most of uspreachers and such like. But he's kind of -goodhe give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two -and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck." -"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my -line. I wish we could get him out of there." -"My we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any -good they'd ketch him again." -"Yesso they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the -dickens when he never donethat." -"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking -villain in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before." -"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he -was to get free they'd lynch him." -"And they'd do it, too." -The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the -twilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhood -of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that -something would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But -nothing happened there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in -this luckless captive. -The boys did as they had often done beforewent to the cell grating -and gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floor -and there were no guards. -His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences -beforeit cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly and -treacherous to the last degree when Potter said -"You've been mighty good to me, boysbetter'n anybody else in this -town. And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I, -'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the -good fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've -all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble but Tom don't, and Huck -don'tTHEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well, -boys, I done an awful thingdrunk and crazy at the timethat's the -only way I account for itand now I got to swing for it, and it's -right. Right, and BEST, too, I reckonhope so, anyway. Well, we won't -talk about that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad you've befriended -me. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever get drunkthen you won't -ever get here. Stand a litter furder westsothat's it it's a prime -comfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck of -trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendly -facesgood friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me -touch 'em. That's it. Shake handsyourn'll come through the bars, but -mine's too big. Little hands, and weakbut they've helped Muff Potter -a power, and they'd help him more if they could." -Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of -horrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the courtroom, -drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself -to stay out. Huck was having the same experience. They studiously -avoided each other. Each wandered away, from time to time, but the same -dismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept his -ears open when idlers sauntered out of the courtroom, but invariably -heard distressing newsthe toils were closing more and more -relentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day the -village talk was to the effect that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and -unshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what the -jury's verdict would be. -Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He -was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to -sleep. All the village flocked to the courthouse the next morning, for -this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented -in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took -their places shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and -hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all -the curious eyes could stare at him no less conspicuous was Injun Joe, -stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and -the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings -among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These -details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation -that was as impressive as it was fascinating. -Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter -washing in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murder -was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some -further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said -"Take the witness." -The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when -his own counsel said -"I have no questions to ask him." -The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse. -Counsel for the prosecution said -"Take the witness." -"I have no questions to ask him," Potter's lawyer replied. -A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter's -possession. -"Take the witness." -Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience -began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away his -client's life without an effort? -Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when -brought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave the -stand without being crossquestioned. -Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the -graveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well was -brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were crossexamined -by Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house -expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench. -Counsel for the prosecution now said -"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we -have fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question, -upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here." -A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and -rocked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned in -the courtroom. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion -testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said -"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we -foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed -while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium -produced by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer that -plea." [Then to the clerk] "Call Thomas Sawyer" -A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even -excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest -upon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked -wild enough, for he was badly scared. The oath was administered. -"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the -hour of midnight?" -Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The -audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a -few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and -managed to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house -hear -"In the graveyard" -"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were" -"In the graveyard." -A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face. -"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?" -"Yes, sir." -"Speak upjust a trifle louder. How near were you?" -"Near as I am to you." -"Were you hidden, or not?" -"I was hid." -"Where?" -"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave." -Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start. -"Any one with you?" -"Yes, sir. I went there with" -"Waitwait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We -will produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there with -you." -Tom hesitated and looked confused. -"Speak out, my boydon't be diffident. The truth is always -respectable. What did you take there?" -"Only aadead cat." -There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked. -"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us -everything that occurredtell it in your own waydon't skip anything, -and don't be afraid." -Tom beganhesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his -words flowed more and more easily in a little while every sound ceased -but his own voice every eye fixed itself upon him with parted lips -and bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of -time, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon -pent emotion reached its climax when the boy said -"and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell, -Injun Joe jumped with the knife and" -Crash Quick as lightning the halfbreed sprang for a window, tore his -way through all opposers, and was gone -CHAPTER XXIV -TOM was a glittering hero once morethe pet of the old, the envy of -the young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village -paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be -President, yet, if he escaped hanging. -As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom -and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort -of conduct is to the world's credit therefore it is not well to find -fault with it. -Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights -were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always -with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to -stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of -wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer -the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid -that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding -Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court. -The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of -that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the -lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been -sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's -confidence in the human race was wellnigh obliterated. -Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken but nightly -he wished he had sealed up his tongue. -Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured the -other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw -a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse. -Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun -Joe was found. One of those omniscient and aweinspiring marvels, a -detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head, -looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of -that craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you -can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got -through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before. -The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened -weight of apprehension. -CHAPTER XXV -THERE comes a time in every rightlyconstructed boy's life when he has -a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This -desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe -Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers he had gone -fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the RedHanded. Huck -would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to -him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a -hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no -capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time -which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck. -"Oh, most anywhere." -"Why, is it hid all around?" -"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck -sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a -limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight but -mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses." -"Who hides it?" -"Why, robbers, of coursewho'd you reckon? Sundayschool -sup'rintendents?" -"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it I'd spend it and have -a good time." -"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and -leave it there." -"Don't they come after it any more?" -"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or -else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty and by -and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the -marksa paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's -mostly signs and hy'roglyphics." -"HyroQwhich?" -"Hy'roglyphicspictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean -anything." -"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?" -"No." -"Well then, how you going to find the marks?" -"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or -on an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out. -Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again -some time and there's the old ha'nted house up the StillHouse branch, -and there's lots of deadlimb treesdead loads of 'em." -"Is it under all of them?" -"How you talk No" -"Then how you going to know which one to go for?" -"Go for all of 'em" -"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer." -"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred -dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds. -How's that?" -Huck's eyes glowed. -"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred -dollars and I don't want no di'monds." -"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some -of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiecethere ain't any, hardly, but's -worth six bits or a dollar." -"No Is that so?" -"Cert'nlyanybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?" -"Not as I remember." -"Oh, kings have slathers of them." -"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom." -"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft -of 'em hopping around." -"Do they hop?" -"Hop?your granny No" -"Well, what did you say they did, for?" -"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'emnot hopping, of coursewhat do -they want to hop for?but I mean you'd just see 'emscattered around, -you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard." -"Richard? What's his other name?" -"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name." -"No?" -"But they don't." -"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right but I don't want to be a king -and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But saywhere you -going to dig first?" -"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old deadlimb tree on the -hill t'other side of StillHouse branch?" -"I'm agreed." -So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their -threemile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves -down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke. -"I like this," said Tom. -"So do I." -"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your -share?" -"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to -every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time." -"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?" -"Save it? What for?" -"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by." -"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thishyer town some -day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd -clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?" -"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure'nough sword, and a red -necktie and a bull pup, and get married." -"Married" -"That's it." -"Tom, youwhy, you ain't in your right mind." -"Waityou'll see." -"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my -mother. Fight Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty -well." -"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight." -"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you -better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name -of the gal?" -"It ain't a gal at allit's a girl." -"It's all the same, I reckon some says gal, some says girlboth's -right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?" -"I'll tell you some timenot now." -"All rightthat'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer -than ever." -"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and -we'll go to digging." -They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled -another halfhour. Still no result. Huck said -"Do they always bury it as deep as this?" -"Sometimesnot always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the -right place." -So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, -but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some -time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from -his brow with his sleeve, and said -"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?" -"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on -Cardiff Hill back of the widow's." -"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from -us, Tom? It's on her land." -"SHE take it away Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one -of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference -whose land it's on." -That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said -"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?" -"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches -interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now." -"Shucks Witches ain't got no power in the daytime." -"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter -is What a blamed lot of fools we are You got to find out where the -shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig" -"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now -hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way. -Can you get out?" -"I bet I will. We've got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody -sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go -for it." -"Well, I'll come around and maow tonight." -"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes." -The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in -the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by -old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked -in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the -distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were -subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged -that twelve had come they marked where the shadow fell, and began to -dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and -their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, -but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon -something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone -or a chunk. At last Tom said -"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again." -"Well, but we CAN'T be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot." -"I know it, but then there's another thing." -"What's that?". -"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too -early." -Huck dropped his shovel. -"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this -one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of -thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts -afluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time -and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front -awaiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here." -"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a -dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it." -"Lordy" -"Yes, they do. I've always heard that." -"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A -body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure." -"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to -stick his skull out and say something" -"Don't Tom It's awful." -"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit." -"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else." -"All right, I reckon we better." -"What'll it be?" -Tom considered awhile and then said -"The ha'nted house. That's it" -"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight -worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come -sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your -shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I -couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tomnobody could." -"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't -hender us from digging there in the daytime." -"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that -ha'nted house in the day nor the night." -"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been -murdered, anywaybut nothing's ever been seen around that house except -in the nightjust some blue lights slipping by the windowsno regular -ghosts." -"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, -you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to -reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em." -"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so -what's the use of our being afeard?" -"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say sobut I -reckon it's taking chances." -They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of -the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly -isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very -doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the windowsashes vacant, a -corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to -see a blue light flit past a window then talking in a low tone, as -befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the -right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way -homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff -Hill. -CHAPTER XXVI -ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree they had -come for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house -Huck was measurably so, alsobut suddenly said -"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?" -Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted -his eyes with a startled look in them -"My I never once thought of it, Huck" -"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it was -Friday." -"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an -awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday." -"MIGHT Better say we WOULD There's some lucky days, maybe, but -Friday ain't." -"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found it -out, Huck." -"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had -a rotten bad dream last nightdreampt about rats." -"No Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?" -"No." -"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that -there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty -sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for today, and play. -Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?" -"No. Who's Robin Hood?" -"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in Englandand the -best. He was a robber." -"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?" -"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like. -But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with -'em perfectly square." -"Well, he must 'a' been a brick." -"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was. -They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in -England, with one hand tied behind him and he could take his yew bow -and plug a tencent piece every time, a mile and a half." -"What's a YEW bow?" -"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that -dime only on the edge he would set down and cryand curse. But we'll -play Robin Hoodit's nobby fun. I'll learn you." -"I'm agreed." -So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a -yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about the -morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink -into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows of -the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of Cardiff -Hill. -On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again. -They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little in -their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there -were so many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting -down within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along and -turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this -time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling -that they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all the -requirements that belong to the business of treasurehunting. -When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and -grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun, -and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the -place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they -crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weedgrown, -floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a -ruinous staircase and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and -abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened -pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound, -and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat. -In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the -place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own -boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look upstairs. -This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring -each other, and of course there could be but one resultthey threw -their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same -signs of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised -mystery, but the promise was a fraudthere was nothing in it. Their -courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and -begin work when -"Sh" said Tom. -"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright. -"Sh... There... Hear it?" -"Yes... Oh, my Let's run" -"Keep still Don't you budge They're coming right toward the door." -The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to -knotholes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear. -"They've stopped.... Nocoming.... Here they are. Don't whisper -another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this" -Two men entered. Each boy said to himself "There's the old deaf and -dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice latelynever saw -t'other man before." -"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant -in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape he had bushy white -whiskers long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore -green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice -they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to the -wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less -guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded -"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It's -dangerous." -"Dangerous" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniardto the vast -surprise of the boys. "Milksop" -This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's There was -silence for some time. Then Joe said -"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonderbut nothing's come -of it." -"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about. -'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed." -"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytimeanybody -would suspicion us that saw us." -"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that -fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only -it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys -playing over there on the hill right in full view." -"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this -remark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was -Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they -had waited a year. -The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and -thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said -"Look here, ladyou go back up the river where you belong. Wait there -till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this town -just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've -spied around a little and think things look well for it. Then for -Texas We'll leg it together" -This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun -Joe said -"I'm dead for sleep It's your turn to watch." -He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade -stirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher -began to nod his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore -now. -The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered -"Now's our chancecome" -Huck said -"I can'tI'd die if they was to wake." -Tom urgedHuck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and -started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak -from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He -never made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging -moments till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternity -growing gray and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun -was setting. -Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared aroundsmiled grimly -upon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his kneesstirred him -up with his foot and said -"Here YOU'RE a watchman, ain't you All right, thoughnothing's -happened." -"My have I been asleep?" -"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we -do with what little swag we've got left?" -"I don't knowleave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to -take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver's -something to carry." -"Wellall rightit won't matter to come here once more." -"Nobut I'd say come in the night as we used to doit's better." -"Yes but look here it may be a good while before I get the right -chance at that job accidents might happen 'tain't in such a very good -place we'll just regularly bury itand bury it deep." -"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down, -raised one of the rearward hearthstones and took out a bag that -jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for -himself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter, -who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowieknife. -The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant. -With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luckthe splendor of -it was beyond all imagination Six hundred dollars was money enough to -make half a dozen boys rich Here was treasurehunting under the -happiest auspicesthere would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to -where to dig. They nudged each other every momenteloquent nudges and -easily understood, for they simply meant"Oh, but ain't you glad NOW -we're here" -Joe's knife struck upon something. -"Hello" said he. -"What is it?" said his comrade. -"Halfrotten plankno, it's a box, I believe. Herebear a hand and -we'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole." -He reached his hand in and drew it out -"Man, it's money" -The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys -above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted. -Joe's comrade said -"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst -the weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplaceI saw it a -minute ago." -He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick, -looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to -himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was -not very large it was iron bound and had been very strong before the -slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in -blissful silence. -"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe. -"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one -summer," the stranger observed. -"I know it," said Injun Joe "and this looks like it, I should say." -"Now you won't need to do that job." -The halfbreed frowned. Said he -"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't -robbery altogetherit's REVENGE" and a wicked light flamed in his -eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finishedthen Texas. Go -home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me." -"Wellif you say so what'll we do with thisbury it again?" -"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] NO by the great Sachem, no -[Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh -earth on it [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What -business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth -on them? Who brought them hereand where are they gone? Have you heard -anybody?seen anybody? What bury it again and leave them to come and -see the ground disturbed? Not exactlynot exactly. We'll take it to my -den." -"Why, of course Might have thought of that before. You mean Number -One?" -"NoNumber Twounder the cross. The other place is badtoo common." -"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start." -Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously -peeping out. Presently he said -"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can be -upstairs?" -The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife, -halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. The -boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came -creaking up the stairsthe intolerable distress of the situation woke -the stricken resolution of the ladsthey were about to spring for the -closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed -on the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered -himself up cursing, and his comrade said -"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up -there, let them STAY therewho cares? If they want to jump down, now, -and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes -and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my -opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us and -took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running -yet." -Joe grumbled awhile then he agreed with his friend that what daylight -was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving. -Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening -twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box. -Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them -through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. -They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take -the townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too -much absorbed in hating themselveshating the ill luck that made them -take the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would -have suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait -there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had the -misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that -the tools were ever brought there -They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come -to town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him -to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought -occurred to Tom. -"Revenge? What if he means US, Huck" -"Oh, don't" said Huck, nearly fainting. -They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to -believe that he might possibly mean somebody elseat least that he -might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified. -Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger Company -would be a palpable improvement, he thought. -CHAPTER XXVII -THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night. -Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times it -wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and -wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay -in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he -noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far awaysomewhat as if -they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it -occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream There -was one very strong argument in favor of this ideanamely, that the -quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen -as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys -of his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references -to "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and -that no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposed -for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found -in actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hidden -treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a -handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable -dollars. -But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer -under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found -himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a -dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch -a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the -gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and -looking very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the -subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to -have been only a dream. -"Hello, Huck" -"Hello, yourself." -Silence, for a minute. -"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got -the money. Oh, ain't it awful" -"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream Somehow I most wish it was. -Dog'd if I don't, Huck." -"What ain't a dream?" -"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was." -"Dream If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream -it was I've had dreams enough all nightwith that patcheyed Spanish -devil going for me all through 'emrot him" -"No, not rot him. FIND him Track the money" -"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for -such a pileand that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see -him, anyway." -"Well, so'd I but I'd like to see him, anywayand track him outto -his Number Two." -"Number Twoyes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't -make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?" -"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huckmaybe it's the number of a house" -"Goody... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this -onehorse town. They ain't no numbers here." -"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Hereit's the number of a -roomin a tavern, you know" -"Oh, that's the trick They ain't only two taverns. We can find out -quick." -"You stay here, Huck, till I come." -Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public -places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No. - had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied. -In the less ostentatious house, No. was a mystery. The -tavernkeeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he -never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night he did -not know any particular reason for this state of things had had some -little curiosity, but it was rather feeble had made the most of the -mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was -"ha'nted" had noticed that there was a light in there the night before. -"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. -we're after." -"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?" -"Lemme think." -Tom thought a long time. Then he said -"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. is the door that comes out -into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap -of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the doorkeys you can find, -and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there -and try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he -said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a -chance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him and if -he don't go to that No. , that ain't the place." -"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself" -"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see youand if he did, -maybe he'd never think anything." -"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I donoI dono. -I'll try." -"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found -out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money." -"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him I will, by jingoes" -"Now you're TALKING Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't." -CHAPTER XXVIII -THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung -about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the -alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the -alley or left it nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the -tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one so Tom went home with -the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, -Huck was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the -keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and -retired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve. -Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday -night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's -old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the -lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before -midnight the tavern closed up and its lights the only ones -thereabouts were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had -entered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of -darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by -occasional mutterings of distant thunder. -Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the -towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern. -Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a -season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a -mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lanternit -would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive -yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have -fainted maybe he was dead maybe his heart had burst under terror and -excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer and -closer to the alley fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and -momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away -his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to -inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, the -way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom came -tearing by him "Run" said he "run, for your life" -He needn't have repeated it once was enough Huck was making thirty -or forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys -never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughterhouse -at the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter -the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath -he said -"Huck, it was awful I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could -but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardly -get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either. -Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and -open comes the door It warn't locked I hopped in, and shook off the -towel, and, GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST" -"Whatwhat'd you see, Tom?" -"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand" -"No" -"Yes He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old -patch on his eye and his arms spread out." -"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?" -"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and -started" -"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet" -"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it." -"Say, Tom, did you see that box?" -"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't -see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on the -floor by Injun Joe yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the -room. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?" -"How?" -"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns have -got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?" -"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But -say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe's -drunk." -"It is, that You try it" -Huck shuddered. -"Well, noI reckon not." -"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't -enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it." -There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said -"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun -Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'll -be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll -snatch that box quicker'n lightning." -"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it -every night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job." -"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a -block and maowand if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the window -and that'll fetch me." -"Agreed, and good as wheat" -"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be -daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will -you?" -"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night -for a year I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night." -"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?" -"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, -Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and -any time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can -spare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't -ever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eat -WITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when -he's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing." -"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't -come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night, -just skip right around and maow." -CHAPTER XXIX -THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news -Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. Both -Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment, -and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her and -they had an exhausting good time playing "hispy" and "gullykeeper" -with a crowd of their schoolmates. The day was completed and crowned -in a peculiarly satisfactory way Becky teased her mother to appoint -the next day for the longpromised and longdelayed picnic, and she -consented. The child's delight was boundless and Tom's not more -moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway -the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation -and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep -awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's -"maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers -with, next day but he was disappointed. No signal came that night. -Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and -rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everything -was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar -the picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe -enough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few -young gentlemen of twentythree or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboat -was chartered for the occasion presently the gay throng filed up the -main street laden with provisionbaskets. Sid was sick and had to miss -the fun Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. -Thatcher said to Becky, was -"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night -with some of the girls that live near the ferrylanding, child." -"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma." -"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble." -Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky -"SayI'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's -we'll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll -have icecream She has it most every daydead loads of it. And she'll -be awful glad to have us." -"Oh, that will be fun" -Then Becky reflected a moment and said -"But what will mamma say?" -"How'll she ever know?" -The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly -"I reckon it's wrongbut" -"But shucks Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she -wants is that you'll be safe and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if -she'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would" -The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and -Tom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say -nothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to -Tom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The -thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he -could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he -give it up, he reasonedthe signal did not come the night before, so -why should it be any more likely to come tonight? The sure fun of the -evening outweighed the uncertain treasure and, boylike, he determined -to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of -the box of money another time that day. -Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody -hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest -distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and -laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone -through with, and byandby the rovers straggled back to camp fortified -with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things -began. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat -in the shade of spreading oaks. Byandby somebody shouted -"Who's ready for the cave?" -Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there -was a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the -hillsidean opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door -stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an icehouse, and -walled by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat. -It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look -out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of -the situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment -a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it a -struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon -knocked down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughter -and a new chase. But all things have an end. Byandby the procession -went filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering -rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their -point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more -than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still -narrower crevices branched from it on either handfor McDougal's cave -was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and -out again and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and -nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and -never find the end of the cave and that he might go down, and down, -and still down, into the earth, and it was just the samelabyrinth -under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave. -That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of -it, and it was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion. -Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one. -The procession moved along the main avenue some threequarters of a -mile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch -avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by -surprise at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able -to elude each other for the space of half an hour without going beyond -the "known" ground. -Byandby, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth -of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow -drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of -the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking no -note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had -been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's -adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat -with her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for -the wasted time but the captain of the craft. -Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went -glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young -people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly -tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop -at the wharfand then he dropped her out of his mind and put his -attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten -o'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began -to wink out, all straggling footpassengers disappeared, the village -betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the -silence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were -put out darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long -time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use? -Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in? -A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The -alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. -The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have -something under his arm. It must be that box So they were going to -remove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would be absurdthe men -would get away with the box and never be found again. No, he would -stick to their wake and follow them he would trust to the darkness for -security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped out -and glided along behind the men, catlike, with bare feet, allowing -them to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible. -They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left -up a crossstreet. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to -the path that led up Cardiff Hill this they took. They passed by the -old Welshman's house, halfway up the hill, without hesitating, and -still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old -quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the -summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach -bushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and -shortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him. -He trotted along awhile then slackened his pace, fearing he was -gaining too fast moved on a piece, then stopped altogether listened -no sound none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his own -heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hillominous sound But no -footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost He was about to spring with -winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him -Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it again and then -he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at -once, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He -knew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the stile -leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them -bury it there it won't be hard to find. -Now there was a voicea very low voiceInjun Joe's -"Damn her, maybe she's got companythere's lights, late as it is." -"I can't see any." -This was that stranger's voicethe stranger of the haunted house. A -deadly chill went to Huck's heartthis, then, was the "revenge" job -His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had -been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to -murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn her but he knew he -didn't darethey might come and catch him. He thought all this and -more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun -Joe's nextwhich was -"Because the bush is in your way. Nowthis waynow you see, don't -you?" -"Yes. Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up." -"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever Give it up and -maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you -before, I don't care for her swagyou may have it. But her husband was -rough on memany times he was rough on meand mainly he was the -justice of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all. -It ain't a millionth part of it He had me HORSEWHIPPEDhorsewhipped -in front of the jail, like a niggerwith all the town looking on -HORSEWHIPPEDdo you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But -I'll take it out of HER." -"Oh, don't kill her Don't do that" -"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was -here but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't -kill herbosh you go for her looks. You slit her nostrilsyou notch -her ears like a sow" -"By God, that's" -"Keep your opinion to yourself It will be safest for you. I'll tie -her to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry, -if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thingfor MY sake -that's why you're hereI mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll -kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill -herand then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this -business." -"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the -betterI'm all in a shiver." -"Do it NOW? And company there? Look hereI'll get suspicious of you, -first thing you know. Nowe'll wait till the lights are outthere's -no hurry." -Huck felt that a silence was going to ensuea thing still more awful -than any amount of murderous talk so he held his breath and stepped -gingerly back planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, -onelegged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one -side and then on the other. He took another step back, with the same -elaboration and the same risks then another and another, anda twig -snapped under his foot His breath stopped and he listened. There was -no soundthe stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now -he turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushesturned -himself as carefully as if he were a shipand then stepped quickly but -cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so -he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he -reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads -of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows. -"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?" -"Let me inquick I'll tell everything." -"Why, who are you?" -"Huckleberry Finnquick, let me in" -"Huckleberry Finn, indeed It ain't a name to open many doors, I -judge But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble." -"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he -got in. "Please don'tI'd be killed, surebut the widow's been good -friends to me sometimes, and I want to tellI WILL tell if you'll -promise you won't ever say it was me." -"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so" -exclaimed the old man "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad." -Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the -hill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in -their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great -bowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, -and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry. -Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill -as fast as his legs could carry him. -CHAPTER XXX -AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck -came groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door. -The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a -hairtrigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call -came from a window -"Who's there" -Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone -"Please let me in It's only Huck Finn" -"It's a name that can open this door night or day, ladand welcome" -These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the -pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing -word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly -unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his -brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves. -"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be -ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too -make yourself easy about that I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and -stop here last night." -"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the -pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz -I wanted to know about it, you know and I come before daylight becuz I -didn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead." -"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of itbut -there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they -ain't dead, ladwe are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right -where to put our hands on them, by your description so we crept along -on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of themdark as a cellar -that sumach path wasand just then I found I was going to sneeze. It -was the meanest kind of luck I tried to keep it back, but no use -'twas bound to come, and it did come I was in the lead with my pistol -raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels arustling to get -out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys' and blazed away at the place -where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy, -those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we -never touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their -bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the -sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the -constables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the river -bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to -beat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had -some sort of description of those rascals'twould help a good deal. -But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?" -"Oh yes I saw them downtown and follered them." -"Splendid Describe themdescribe them, my boy" -"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or -twice, and t'other's a meanlooking, ragged" -"That's enough, lad, we know the men Happened on them in the woods -back of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, -and tell the sheriffget your breakfast tomorrow morning" -The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room -Huck sprang up and exclaimed -"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them Oh, -please" -"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of -what you did." -"Oh no, no Please don't tell" -When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said -"They won't telland I won't. But why don't you want it known?" -Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too -much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he -knew anything against him for the whole worldhe would be killed for -knowing it, sure. -The old man promised secrecy once more, and said -"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking -suspicious?" -Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said -"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot,least everybody says so, -and I don't see nothing agin itand sometimes I can't sleep much, on -account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way -of doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I -come along upstreet 'bout midnight, aturning it all over, and when I -got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed -up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes -these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their -arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was asmoking, and t'other one -wanted a light so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up -their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, -by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a -rusty, raggedlooking devil." -"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?" -This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said -"Well, I don't knowbut somehow it seems as if I did." -"Then they went on, and you" -"Follered 'emyes. That was it. I wanted to see what was upthey -sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the -dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard -swear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two" -"What The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that" -Huck had made another terrible mistake He was trying his best to keep -the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might -be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in -spite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his -scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after -blunder. Presently the Welshman said -"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head -for all the world. NoI'd protect youI'd protect you. This Spaniard -is not deaf and dumb you've let that slip without intending it you -can't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that -you want to keep dark. Now trust metell me what it is, and trust me -I won't betray you." -Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over -and whispered in his ear -"'Tain't a Spaniardit's Injun Joe" -The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said -"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and -slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because -white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun That's a -different matter altogether." -During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man -said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going -to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for -marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of -"Of WHAT?" -If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more -stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring -wide, now, and his breath suspendedwaiting for the answer. The -Welshman startedstared in returnthree secondsfive secondsten -then replied -"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?" -Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The -Welshman eyed him gravely, curiouslyand presently said -"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But -what did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?" -Huck was in a close placethe inquiring eye was upon himhe would -have given anything for material for a plausible answernothing -suggested itselfthe inquiring eye was boring deeper and deepera -senseless reply offeredthere was no time to weigh it, so at a venture -he uttered itfeebly -"Sundayschool books, maybe." -Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud -and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, -and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in aman's pocket, -because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added -"Poor old chap, you're white and jadedyou ain't well a bitno -wonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come -out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope." -Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such -a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel -brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the -talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, -howeverhe had not known that it wasn'tand so the suggestion of a -captured bundle was too much for his selfpossession. But on the whole -he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond -all question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind was -at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be -drifting just in the right direction, now the treasure must be still -in No. , the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tom -could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of -interruption. -Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck -jumped for a hidingplace, for he had no mind to be connected even -remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and -gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of -citizens were climbing up the hillto stare at the stile. So the news -had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the -visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken. -"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more -beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow -me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him." -Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled -the main matterbut the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of -his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he -refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the -widow said -"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that -noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?" -"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come -againthey hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of -waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard -at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back." -More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a -couple of hours more. -There was no Sabbathschool during dayschool vacation, but everybody -was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came -that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the -sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. -Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said -"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be -tired to death." -"Your Becky?" -"Yes," with a startled look"didn't she stay with you last night?" -"Why, no." -Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, -talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said -"Goodmorning, Mrs. Thatcher. Goodmorning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a -boy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last -nightone of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to -settle with him." -Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever. -"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. -A marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face. -"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?" -"No'm." -"When did you see him last?" -Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had -stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding -uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were -anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not -noticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the -homeward trip it was dark no one thought of inquiring if any one was -missing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were -still in the cave Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to -crying and wringing her hands. -The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to -street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and the -whole town was up The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant -insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, -skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror -was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and -river toward the cave. -All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women -visited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They -cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the -tedious night the town waited for news but when the morning dawned at -last, all the word that came was, "Send more candlesand send food." -Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher -sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they -conveyed no real cheer. -The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with -candlegrease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck -still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with -fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came -and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him, -because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, -and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The -Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said -"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. -He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his -hands." -Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the -village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the -news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were -being ransacked that had never been visited before that every corner -and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched that wherever one -wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting -hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistolshots sent -their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one -place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names -"BECKY TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with -candlesmoke, and near at hand a greasesoiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. -Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the -last relic she should ever have of her child and that no other memorial -of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest from -the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and -then, in the cave, a faraway speck of light would glimmer, and then a -glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down the -echoing aisleand then a sickening disappointment always followed the -children were not there it was only a searcher's light. -Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and -the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. -The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the -Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the -public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck -feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally askeddimly -dreading the worstif anything had been discovered at the Temperance -Tavern since he had been ill. -"Yes," said the widow. -Huck started up in bed, wildeyed -"What? What was it?" -"Liquorand the place has been shut up. Lie down, childwhat a turn -you did give me" -"Only tell me just one thingonly just oneplease Was it Tom Sawyer -that found it?" -The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush I've told you -before, you must NOT talk. You are very, very sick" -Then nothing but liquor had been found there would have been a great -powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forevergone -forever But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should -cry. -These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the -weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself -"Therehe's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it Pity but somebody -could find Tom Sawyer Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope -enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching." -CHAPTER XXXI -NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped -along the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting the -familiar wonders of the cavewonders dubbed with rather -overdescriptive names, such as "The DrawingRoom," "The Cathedral," -"Aladdin's Palace," and so on. Presently the hideandseek frolicking -began, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertion -began to grow a trifle wearisome then they wandered down a sinuous -avenue holding their candles aloft and reading the tangled webwork of -names, dates, postoffice addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky -walls had been frescoed in candlesmoke. Still drifting along and -talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cave -whose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an -overhanging shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a -little stream of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestone -sediment with it, had, in the slowdragging ages, formed a laced and -ruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his -small body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky's -gratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep natural -stairway which was enclosed between narrow walls, and at once the -ambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call, -and they made a smokemark for future guidance, and started upon their -quest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths of -the cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties to -tell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern, -from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of the -length and circumference of a man's leg they walked all about it, -wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerous -passages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitching -spring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering -crystals it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported by -many fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of great -stalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless -waterdrip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packed -themselves together, thousands in a bunch the lights disturbed the -creatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and -darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger of -this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into the -first corridor that offered and none too soon, for a bat struck -Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of the -cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance but the fugitives -plunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of the -perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, which -stretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows. -He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be best -to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deep -stillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of the -children. Becky said -"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of -the others." -"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below themand I don't know -how far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn't -hear them here." -Becky grew apprehensive. -"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back." -"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better." -"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixedup crookedness to me." -"I reckon I could find itbut then the bats. If they put our candles -out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to go -through there." -"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful" and the -girl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities. -They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long -way, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything -familiar about the look of it but they were all strange. Every time -Tom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging -sign, and he would say cheerily -"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it right -away" -But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently -began to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate -hope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all -right," but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words -had lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost" -Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep -back the tears, but they would come. At last she said -"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way We seem to get -worse and worse off all the time." -"Listen" said he. -Profound silence silence so deep that even their breathings were -conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down the -empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that -resembled a ripple of mocking laughter. -"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky. -"It is horrid, but I better, Becky they might hear us, you know," and -he shouted again. -The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it -so confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened -but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and -hurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certain -indecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Beckyhe -could not find his way back -"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks" -"Becky, I was such a fool Such a fool I never thought we might want -to come back NoI can't find the way. It's all mixed up." -"Tom, Tom, we're lost we're lost We never can get out of this awful -place Oh, why DID we ever leave the others" -She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom -was appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He -sat down by her and put his arms around her she buried her face in his -bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing -regrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom -begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell -to blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable -situation this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope -again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he -would not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than -she, she said. -So they moved on againaimlesslysimply at randomall they could do -was to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of -revivingnot with any reason to back it, but only because it is its -nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age -and familiarity with failure. -Byandby Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant -so much Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died -again. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in -his pocketsyet he must economize. -Byandby, fatigue began to assert its claims the children tried to -pay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when time -was grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any -direction, was at least progress and might bear fruit but to sit down -was to invite death and shorten its pursuit. -At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat -down. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friends -there, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light Becky cried, -and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all his -encouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded like -sarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to -sleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it -grow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams and -byandby a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflected -somewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughts -wandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep in -his musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laughbut it was -stricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it. -"Oh, how COULD I sleep I wish I never, never had waked No No, I -don't, Tom Don't look so I won't say it again." -"I'm glad you've slept, Becky you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find -the way out." -"We can try, Tom but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream. -I reckon we are going there." -"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying." -They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried -to estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew was -that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not -be, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after thisthey -could not tell how longTom said they must go softly and listen for -dripping waterthey must find a spring. They found one presently, and -Tom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky -said she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised to -hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom -fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay. -Thought was soon busy nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke -the silence -"Tom, I am so hungry" -Tom took something out of his pocket. -"Do you remember this?" said he. -Becky almost smiled. -"It's our weddingcake, Tom." -"YesI wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got." -"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grownup -people do with weddingcakebut it'll be our" -She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky -ate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was -abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. Byandby Becky -suggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he -said -"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?" -Becky's face paled, but she thought she could. -"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink. -That little piece is our last candle" -Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to -comfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said -"Tom" -"Well, Becky?" -"They'll miss us and hunt for us" -"Yes, they will Certainly they will" -"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom." -"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are." -"When would they miss us, Tom?" -"When they get back to the boat, I reckon." -"Tom, it might be dark thenwould they notice we hadn't come?" -"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they -got home." -A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw -that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night -The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of -grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers -alsothat the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher -discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's. -The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched -it melt slowly and pitilessly away saw the half inch of wick stand -alone at last saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin -column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and thenthe horror of -utter darkness reigned -How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that -she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew -was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of -a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said -it might be Sunday, nowmaybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, -but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said -that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was -going on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it -but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he -tried it no more. -The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. -A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left they divided and ate it. -But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only -whetted desire. -Byandby Tom said -"SH Did you hear that?" -Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the -faintest, faroff shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky -by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction. -Presently he listened again again the sound was heard, and apparently -a little nearer. -"It's them" said Tom "they're coming Come along, Beckywe're all -right now" -The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was -slow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be -guarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be -three feet deep, it might be a hundredthere was no passing it at any -rate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could. -No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They -listened evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant a -moment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heartsinking -misery of it Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He -talked hopefully to Becky but an age of anxious waiting passed and no -sounds came again. -The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time -dragged on they slept again, and awoke famished and woestricken. Tom -believed it must be Tuesday by this time. -Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It -would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the -heavy time in idleness. He took a kiteline from his pocket, tied it to -a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the -line as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended -in a "jumpingoff place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and -then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands -conveniently he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the -right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding -a candle, appeared from behind a rock Tom lifted up a glorious shout, -and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged toInjun -Joe's Tom was paralyzed he could not move. He was vastly gratified -the next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get -himself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his -voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But the -echoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he -reasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said to -himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he -would stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk of -meeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it was -he had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck." -But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run. -Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought -changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed -that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, -and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore another -passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But -Becky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be -roused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and dieit would -not be long. She told Tom to go with the kiteline and explore if he -chose but she implored him to come back every little while and speak -to her and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he -would stay by her and hold her hand until all was over. -Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a -show of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the -cave then he took the kiteline in his hand and went groping down one -of the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick -with bodings of coming doom. -CHAPTER XXXII -TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St. -Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Public -prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private -prayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it but still no good -news came from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up the -quest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain -the children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a -great part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking to -hear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute -at a time, then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had -drooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almost -white. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn. -Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village -bells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic halfclad -people, who shouted, "Turn out turn out they're found they're -found" Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed -itself and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an open -carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its -homeward march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaring -huzzah after huzzah -The village was illuminated nobody went to bed again it was the -greatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first halfhour -a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized -the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried to -speak but couldn'tand drifted out raining tears all over the place. -Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It -would be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched with -the great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay -upon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of -the wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn it -withal and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went on -an exploring expedition how he followed two avenues as far as his -kiteline would reach how he followed a third to the fullest stretch of -the kiteline, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a faroff -speck that looked like daylight dropped the line and groped toward it, -pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broad -Mississippi rolling by And if it had only happened to be night he would -not have seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored that -passage any more He told how he went back for Becky and broke the good -news and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was -tired, and knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how he -labored with her and convinced her and how she almost died for joy when -she had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight how -he pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out how they sat -there and cried for gladness how some men came along in a skiff and Tom -hailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition -how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they, -"you are five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in" -then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them -rest till two or three hours after dark and then brought them home. -Before daydawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him -were tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strung -behind them, and informed of the great news. -Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to be -shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They were -bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and -more tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on -Thursday, was downtown Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday -but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as -if she had passed through a wasting illness. -Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but -could not be admitted to the bedroom neither could he on Saturday or -Sunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still -about his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas -stayed by to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the Cardiff -Hill event also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found -in the river near the ferrylanding he had been drowned while trying -to escape, perhaps. -About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to -visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting -talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge -Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The -Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him -ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he -thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said -"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. -But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any -more." -"Why?" -"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago, -and triplelockedand I've got the keys." -Tom turned as white as a sheet. -"What's the matter, boy Here, run, somebody Fetch a glass of water" -The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face. -"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?" -"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave" -CHAPTER XXXIII -WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiffloads of -men were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well -filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that -bore Judge Thatcher. -When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in -the dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground, -dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing -eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer -of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own -experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but -nevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now, -which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated -before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day -he lifted his voice against this bloodyminded outcast. -Injun Joe's bowieknife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The -great foundationbeam of the door had been chipped and hacked through, -with tedious labor useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock -formed a sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had -wrought no effect the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if -there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been -useless still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could -not have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he had -only hacked that place in order to be doing somethingin order to pass -the weary timein order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily -one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevices -of this vestibule, left there by tourists but there were none now. The -prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to -catch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their -claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at -hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages, -builded by the waterdrip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had -broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, -wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop -that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a -clockticka dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop -was falling when the Pyramids were new when Troy fell when the -foundations of Rome were laid when Christ was crucified when the -Conqueror created the British empire when Columbus sailed when the -massacre at Lexington was "news." It is falling now it will still be -falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of -history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in the -thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did -this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for -this flitting human insect's need? and has it another important object -to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many and -many a year since the hapless halfbreed scooped out the stone to catch -the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at that -pathetic stone and that slowdropping water when he comes to see the -wonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of -the cavern's marvels even "Aladdin's Palace" cannot rival it. -Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave and people flocked -there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and -hamlets for seven miles around they brought their children, and all -sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as -satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the -hanging. -This funeral stopped the further growth of one thingthe petition to -the governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely -signed many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a -committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail -around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample -his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five -citizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself -there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names -to a pardonpetition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently -impaired and leaky waterworks. -The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have -an important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the -Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned -there was one thing they had not told him that thing was what he -wanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said -"I know what it is. You got into No. and never found anything but -whiskey. Nobody told me it was you but I just knowed it must 'a' ben -you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business and I knowed you -hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and -told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's always -told me we'd never get holt of that swag." -"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavernkeeper. YOU know his tavern -was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you -was to watch there that night?" -"Oh yes Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I -follered Injun Joe to the widder's." -"YOU followed him?" -"Yesbut you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, -and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it -hadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right." -Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only -heard of the Welshman's part of it before. -"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, -"whoever nipped the whiskey in No. , nipped the money, too, I reckon -anyways it's a goner for us, Tom." -"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. " -"What" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on -the track of that money again?" -"Huck, it's in the cave" -Huck's eyes blazed. -"Say it again, Tom." -"The money's in the cave" -"Tomhonest injun, nowis it fun, or earnest?" -"Earnest, Huckjust as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go -in there with me and help get it out?" -"I bet I will I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not -get lost." -"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the -world." -"Good as wheat What makes you think the money's" -"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll -agree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I -will, by jings." -"All rightit's a whiz. When do you say?" -"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?" -"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, -now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tomleast I don't think I could." -"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, -Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me -know about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the -skiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You -needn't ever turn your hand over." -"Less start right off, Tom." -"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little -bag or two, and two or three kitestrings, and some of these -newfangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's -the time I wished I had some when I was in there before." -A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who -was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles -below "Cave Hollow," Tom said -"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the -cave hollowno houses, no woodyards, bushes all alike. But do you see -that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that's -one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now." -They landed. -"Now, Huck, where we're astanding you could touch that hole I got out -of with a fishingpole. See if you can find it." -Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly -marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said -"Here you are Look at it, Huck it's the snuggest hole in this -country. You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be -a robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to -run across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it -quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers inbecause of course -there's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. -Tom Sawyer's Gangit sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?" -"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?" -"Oh, most anybody. Waylay peoplethat's mostly the way." -"And kill them?" -"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom." -"What's a ransom?" -"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends and -after you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them. -That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the -women, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and -awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take -your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers -you'll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and -after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and -after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd -turn right around and come back. It's so in all the books." -"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate." -"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and -circuses and all that." -By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom -in the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, -then made their spliced kitestrings fast and moved on. A few steps -brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through -him. He showed Huck the fragment of candlewick perched on a lump of -clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the -flame struggle and expire. -The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and -gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently -entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the -"jumpingoff place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not -really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet -high. Tom whispered -"Now I'll show you something, Huck." -He held his candle aloft and said -"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? Thereon -the big rock over yonderdone with candlesmoke." -"Tom, it's a CROSS" -"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS,' hey? Right yonder's -where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck" -Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice -"Tom, less git out of here" -"What and leave the treasure?" -"Yesleave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain." -"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he -diedaway out at the mouth of the cavefive mile from here." -"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways -of ghosts, and so do you." -Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his -mind. But presently an idea occurred to him -"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves Injun Joe's -ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross" -The point was well taken. It had its effect. -"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that -cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box." -Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. -Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the -great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. -They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with -a pallet of blankets spread down in it also an old suspender, some -bacon rind, and the wellgnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there -was no moneybox. The lads searched and researched this place, but in -vain. Tom said -"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the -cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on -the ground." -They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. -Huck could suggest nothing. Byandby Tom said -"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candlegrease on the -clay about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now, -what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going to -dig in the clay." -"That ain't no bad notion, Tom" said Huck with animation. -Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches -before he struck wood. -"Hey, Huckyou hear that?" -Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and -removed. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. -Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he -could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to -explore. He stooped and passed under the narrow way descended -gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to -the left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, byandby, and -exclaimed -"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere" -It was the treasurebox, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, -along with an empty powderkeg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two -or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish -well soaked with the waterdrip. -"Got it at last" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with -his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom" -"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, -but we HAVE got it, sure Saylet's not fool around here. Let's snake -it out. Lemme see if I can lift the box." -It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward -fashion, but could not carry it conveniently. -"I thought so," he said "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that day -at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of -fetching the little bags along." -The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross -rock. -"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck. -"No, Huckleave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we -go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our -orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies." -"What orgies?" -"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to -have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's -getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we -get to the skiff." -They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily -out, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the -skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got -under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting -cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark. -"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the -widow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it -and divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it -where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till -I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon I won't be gone a minute." -He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two -small sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and started -off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the -Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move -on, the Welshman stepped out and said -"Hallo, who's that?" -"Huck and Tom Sawyer." -"Good Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. -Herehurry up, trot aheadI'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not -as light as it might be. Got bricks in it?or old metal?" -"Old metal," said Tom. -"I judged so the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool -away more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the -foundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But -that's human naturehurry along, hurry along" -The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about. -"Never mind you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'." -Huck said with some apprehensionfor he was long used to being -falsely accused -"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing." -The Welshman laughed. -"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you -and the widow good friends?" -"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway." -"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?" -This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he -found himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawingroom. -Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. -The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any -consequence in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, the -Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor, -and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow -received the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two such -looking beings. They were covered with clay and candlegrease. Aunt -Polly blushed crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head -at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr. -Jones said -"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up but I stumbled on him and -Huck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry." -"And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys." -She took them to a bedchamber and said -"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes -shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck'sno, no thanks, -HuckMr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you. -Get into them. We'll waitcome down when you are slicked up enough." -Then she left. -CHAPTER XXXIV -HUCK said "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't -high from the ground." -"Shucks what do you want to slope for?" -"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't -going down there, Tom." -"Oh, bother It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care -of you." -Sid appeared. -"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon. -Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting about -you. Sayain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?" -"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this -blowout about, anyway?" -"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time -it's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape they -helped her out of the other night. And sayI can tell you something, -if you want to know." -"Well, what?" -"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people -here tonight, but I overheard him tell auntie today about it, as a -secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows -the widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was -bound Huck should be herecouldn't get along with his grand secret -without Huck, you know" -"Secret about what, Sid?" -"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones -was going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it will -drop pretty flat." -Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way. -"Sid, was it you that told?" -"Oh, never mind who it was. SOMEBODY toldthat's enough." -"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and -that's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down the -hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean -things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones. -Thereno thanks, as the widow says"and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and -helped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if -you dareand tomorrow you'll catch it" -Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the suppertable, and a -dozen children were propped up at little sidetables in the same room, -after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr. -Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the -honor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there was -another person whose modesty -And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in the -adventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but the -surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and -effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However, -the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so many -compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the -nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely -intolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gaze -and everybody's laudations. -The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have -him educated and that when she could spare the money she would start -him in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said -"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich." -Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept -back the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But -the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it -"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of -it. Oh, you needn't smileI reckon I can show you. You just wait a -minute." -Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a -perplexed interestand inquiringly at Huck, who was tonguetied. -"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "Hewell, there ain't ever any -making of that boy out. I never" -Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly -did not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin upon -the table and said -"Therewhat did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine" -The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke -for a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tom -said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of -interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the -charm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said -"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it -don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'm -willing to allow." -The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve -thousand dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at one -time before, though several persons were there who were worth -considerably more than that in property. -CHAPTER XXXV -THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a -mighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a -sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked -about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of the -citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every -"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was -dissected, plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked for -hidden treasureand not by boys, but menpretty grave, unromantic -men, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were -courted, admired, stared at. The boys were not able to remember that -their remarks had possessed weight before but now their sayings were -treasured and repeated everything they did seemed somehow to be -regarded as remarkable they had evidently lost the power of doing and -saying commonplace things moreover, their past history was raked up -and discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village -paper published biographical sketches of the boys. -The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge -Thatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had -an income, now, that was simply prodigiousa dollar for every weekday -in the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got -no, it was what he was promisedhe generally couldn't collect it. A -dollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy in -those old simple daysand clothe him and wash him, too, for that -matter. -Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no -commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When -Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her -whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved and when she pleaded -grace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that -whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine -outburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous liea lie that -was worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast to -breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet Becky -thought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he -walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straight -off and told Tom about it. -Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some -day. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the -National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school -in the country, in order that he might be ready for either career or -both. -Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow -Douglas' protection introduced him into societyno, dragged him into -it, hurled him into itand his sufferings were almost more than he -could bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and -brushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that had -not one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and know -for a friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork he had to use -napkin, cup, and plate he had to learn his book, he had to go to -church he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid in -his mouth whithersoever he turned, the bars and shackles of -civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot. -He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up -missing. For fortyeight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in -great distress. The public were profoundly concerned they searched -high and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third -morning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheads -down behind the abandoned slaughterhouse, and in one of them he found -the refugee. Huck had slept there he had just breakfasted upon some -stolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, with -his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of -rags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free and -happy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been causing, -and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and -took a melancholy cast. He said -"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work it don't -work, Tom. It ain't for me I ain't used to it. The widder's good to -me, and friendly but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just -at the same time every morning she makes me wash, they comb me all to -thunder she won't let me sleep in the woodshed I got to wear them -blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom they don't seem to any air -git through 'em, somehow and they're so rotten nice that I can't set -down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's I hain't slid on a -cellardoor forwell, it 'pears to be years I got to go to church and -sweat and sweatI hate them ornery sermons I can't ketch a fly in -there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats by -a bell she goes to bed by a bell she gits up by a belleverything's -so awful reg'lar a body can't stand it." -"Well, everybody does that way, Huck." -"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't -STAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easyI don't -take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go afishing I -got to ask to go in aswimmingdern'd if I hain't got to ask to do -everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfortI'd got -to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste in -my mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke she -wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor -scratch, before folks" [Then with a spasm of special irritation and -injury]"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time I never see such a -woman I HAD to shove, TomI just had to. And besides, that school's -going to open, and I'd a had to go to itwell, I wouldn't stand THAT, -Tom. Looky here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's -just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and awishing you was dead -all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and -I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got into -all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money now you just take -my sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a tencenter sometimesnot -many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollable -hard to gitand you go and beg off for me with the widder." -"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair and besides if -you'll try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it." -"Like it Yesthe way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long -enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed -smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and -I'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all just as we'd got guns, and a -cave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got to -come up and spile it all" -Tom saw his opportunity -"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turning -robber." -"No Oh, goodlicks are you in real deadwood earnest, Tom?" -"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you -into the gang if you ain't respectable, you know." -Huck's joy was quenched. -"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?" -"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more hightoned than what a -pirate isas a general thing. In most countries they're awful high up -in the nobilitydukes and such." -"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me -out, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, WOULD you, Tom?" -"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want tobut what would people -say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph Tom Sawyer's Gang pretty low characters in -it' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't." -Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finally -he said -"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if -I can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom." -"All right, Huck, it's a whiz Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the -widow to let up on you a little, Huck." -"Will you, Tomnow will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of -the roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd -through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?" -"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation -tonight, maybe." -"Have the which?" -"Have the initiation." -"What's that?" -"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's -secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody and -all his family that hurts one of the gang." -"That's gaythat's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you." -"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at -midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can finda ha'nted -house is the best, but they're all ripped up now." -"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom." -"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it with -blood." -"Now, that's something LIKE Why, it's a million times bullier than -pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom and if I git to be -a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon -she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet." -CONCLUSION -SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, it -must stop here the story could not go much further without becoming -the history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, he -knows exactly where to stopthat is, with a marriage but when he -writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best can. -Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are -prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the -story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they -turned out to be therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that -part of their lives at present. -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete -by Mark Twain Samuel Clemens - END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SAWYER - This file should be named .txt or .zip -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in -http//www.gutenberg.net/// -Produced by David Widger. The previous edition was update by Jose -Menendez. -Updated editions will replace the previous onethe old editions -will be renamed. -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -and you can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. -Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts -eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since -These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers -Title Ulysses -Author James Joyce -Release Date July, [EBook ] -[This file was first posted on December , ] -[Edition posted June th, ] -[Date last updated November , ] -Edition -Language English -Character set encoding ASCII -Please Note This etext edition of the Project Gutenberg Ulysses by -James Joyce is based on the pre print editions. Any suggested -changes to this etext should be based on comparison to that print -edition, and not to the new and later print editions. - START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ULYSSES -This etext was prepared by Col Choat colchoatyahoo.com.au. -Ulysses by James Joyce -I -STATELY, PLUMP BUCK MULLIGAN CAME FROM THE STAIRHEAD, bearing a bowl of -lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, -ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He -held the bowl aloft and intoned -INTROIBO AD ALTARE DEI. -Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely -Come up, Kinch Come up, you fearful jesuit -Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about -and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the -awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent -towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and -shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms -on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling -face that blessed him, equine in its length, and at the light untonsured -hair, grained and hued like pale oak. -Buck Mulligan peeped an instant under the mirror and then covered -the bowl smartly. -Back to barracks he said sternly. -He added in a preacher's tone -For this, O dearly beloved, is the genuine Christine body and soul and -blood and ouns. Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A -little trouble about those white corpuscles. Silence, all. -He peered sideways up and gave a long slow whistle of call, then paused -awhile in rapt attention, his even white teeth glistening here and there -with gold points. Chrysostomos. Two strong shrill whistles answered -through the calm. -Thanks, old chap, he cried briskly. That will do nicely. Switch off the -current, will you? -He skipped off the gunrest and looked gravely at his watcher, gathering -about his legs the loose folds of his gown. The plump shadowed face and -sullen oval jowl recalled a prelate, patron of arts in the middle ages. A -pleasant smile broke quietly over his lips. -The mockery of it he said gaily. Your absurd name, an ancient Greek -He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went over to the parapet, -laughing to himself. Stephen Dedalus stepped up, followed him wearily -halfway and sat down on the edge of the gunrest, watching him still as he -propped his mirror on the parapet, dipped the brush in the bowl and -lathered cheeks and neck. -Buck Mulligan's gay voice went on. -My name is absurd too Malachi Mulligan, two dactyls. But it has a -Hellenic ring, hasn't it? Tripping and sunny like the buck himself. We -must go to Athens. Will you come if I can get the aunt to fork out twenty -quid? -He laid the brush aside and, laughing with delight, cried -Will he come? The jejune jesuit -Ceasing, he began to shave with care. -Tell me, Mulligan, Stephen said quietly. -Yes, my love? -How long is Haines going to stay in this tower? -Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his right shoulder. -God, isn't he dreadful? he said frankly. A ponderous Saxon. He thinks -you're not a gentleman. God, these bloody English Bursting with money -and indigestion. Because he comes from Oxford. You know, Dedalus, you -have the real Oxford manner. He can't make you out. O, my name for you is -the best Kinch, the knifeblade. -He shaved warily over his chin. -He was raving all night about a black panther, Stephen said. Where is -his guncase? -A woful lunatic Mulligan said. Were you in a funk? -I was, Stephen said with energy and growing fear. Out here in the dark -with a man I don't know raving and moaning to himself about shooting a -black panther. You saved men from drowning. I'm not a hero, however. If -he stays on here I am off. -Buck Mulligan frowned at the lather on his razorblade. He hopped down -from his perch and began to search his trouser pockets hastily. -Scutter he cried thickly. -He came over to the gunrest and, thrusting a hand into Stephen's upper -pocket, said -Lend us a loan of your noserag to wipe my razor. -Stephen suffered him to pull out and hold up on show by its corner a -dirty crumpled handkerchief. Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. -Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said -The bard's noserag A new art colour for our Irish poets snotgreen. -You can almost taste it, can't you? -He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair -oakpale hair stirring slightly. -God he said quietly. Isn't the sea what Algy calls it a great sweet -mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea. EPI OINOPA PONTON. -Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks I must teach you. You must read them in the -original. THALATTA THALATTA She is our great sweet mother. Come and -look. -Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked -down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbourmouth of -Kingstown. -Our mighty mother Buck Mulligan said. -He turned abruptly his grey searching eyes from the sea to Stephen's -face. -The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That's why she won't -let me have anything to do with you. -Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily. -You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked -you, Buck Mulligan said. I'm hyperborean as much as you. But to think of -your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for -her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you ... -He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant -smile curled his lips. -But a lovely mummer he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest -mummer of them all -He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously. -Stephen, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against -his brow and gazed at the fraying edge of his shiny black coatsleeve. -Pain, that was not yet the pain of love, fretted his heart. Silently, in -a dream she had come to him after her death, her wasted body within its -loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her -breath, that had bent upon him, mute, reproachful, a faint odour of -wetted ashes. Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw the sea hailed as a -great sweet mother by the wellfed voice beside him. The ring of bay and -skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. A bowl of white china had stood -beside her deathbed holding the green sluggish bile which she had torn up -from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting. -Buck Mulligan wiped again his razorblade. -Ah, poor dogsbody he said in a kind voice. I must give you a shirt and -a few noserags. How are the secondhand breeks? -They fit well enough, Stephen answered. -Buck Mulligan attacked the hollow beneath his underlip. -The mockery of it, he said contentedly. Secondleg they should be. God -knows what poxy bowsy left them off. I have a lovely pair with a hair -stripe, grey. You'll look spiffing in them. I'm not joking, Kinch. You -look damn well when you're dressed. -Thanks, Stephen said. I can't wear them if they are grey. -He can't wear them, Buck Mulligan told his face in the mirror. -Etiquette is etiquette. He kills his mother but he can't wear grey -trousers. -He folded his razor neatly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the -smooth skin. -Stephen turned his gaze from the sea and to the plump face with its -smokeblue mobile eyes. -That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan, says -you have g.p.i. He's up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman. General -paralysis of the insane -He swept the mirror a half circle in the air to flash the tidings abroad -in sunlight now radiant on the sea. His curling shaven lips laughed and -the edges of his white glittering teeth. Laughter seized all his strong -wellknit trunk. -Look at yourself, he said, you dreadful bard -Stephen bent forward and peered at the mirror held out to him, cleft by a -crooked crack. Hair on end. As he and others see me. Who chose this face -for me? This dogsbody to rid of vermin. It asks me too. -I pinched it out of the skivvy's room, Buck Mulligan said. It does her -all right. The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi. Lead -him not into temptation. And her name is Ursula. -Laughing again, he brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes. -The rage of Caliban at not seeing his face in a mirror, he said. If -Wilde were only alive to see you -Drawing back and pointing, Stephen said with bitterness -It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked lookingglass of a servant. -Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him -round the tower, his razor and mirror clacking in the pocket where he had -thrust them. -It's not fair to tease you like that, Kinch, is it? he said kindly. God -knows you have more spirit than any of them. -Parried again. He fears the lancet of my art as I fear that of his. The -cold steelpen. -Cracked lookingglass of a servant Tell that to the oxy chap downstairs -and touch him for a guinea. He's stinking with money and thinks you're -not a gentleman. His old fellow made his tin by selling jalap to Zulus or -some bloody swindle or other. God, Kinch, if you and I could only work -together we might do something for the island. Hellenise it. -Cranly's arm. His arm. -And to think of your having to beg from these swine. I'm the only one -that knows what you are. Why don't you trust me more? What have you up -your nose against me? Is it Haines? If he makes any noise here I'll bring -down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they gave Clive -Kempthorpe. -Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms. Palefaces -they hold their ribs with laughter, one clasping another. O, I shall -expire Break the news to her gently, Aubrey I shall die With slit -ribbons of his shirt whipping the air he hops and hobbles round the -table, with trousers down at heels, chased by Ades of Magdalen with the -tailor's shears. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. I don't want -to be debagged Don't you play the giddy ox with me -Shouts from the open window startling evening in the quadrangle. A deaf -gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on -the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms. -To ourselves ... new paganism ... omphalos. -Let him stay, Stephen said. There's nothing wrong with him except at -night. -Then what is it? Buck Mulligan asked impatiently. Cough it up. I'm -quite frank with you. What have you against me now? -They halted, looking towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the -water like the snout of a sleeping whale. Stephen freed his arm quietly. -Do you wish me to tell you? he asked. -Yes, what is it? Buck Mulligan answered. I don't remember anything. -He looked in Stephen's face as he spoke. A light wind passed his brow, -fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of -anxiety in his eyes. -Stephen, depressed by his own voice, said -Do you remember the first day I went to your house after my mother's -death? -Buck Mulligan frowned quickly and said -What? Where? I can't remember anything. I remember only ideas and -sensations. Why? What happened in the name of God? -You were making tea, Stephen said, and went across the landing to get -more hot water. Your mother and some visitor came out of the drawingroom. -She asked you who was in your room. -Yes? Buck Mulligan said. What did I say? I forget. -You said, Stephen answered, O, IT'S ONLY DEDALUS WHOSE MOTHER IS -BEASTLY DEAD. -A flush which made him seem younger and more engaging rose to Buck -Mulligan's cheek. -Did I say that? he asked. Well? What harm is that? -He shook his constraint from him nervously. -And what is death, he asked, your mother's or yours or my own? You saw -only your mother die. I see them pop off every day in the Mater and -Richmond and cut up into tripes in the dissectingroom. It's a beastly -thing and nothing else. It simply doesn't matter. You wouldn't kneel down -to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you. Why? Because -you have the cursed jesuit strain in you, only it's injected the wrong -way. To me it's all a mockery and beastly. Her cerebral lobes are not -functioning. She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups -off the quilt. Humour her till it's over. You crossed her last wish in -death and yet you sulk with me because I don't whinge like some hired -mute from Lalouette's. Absurd I suppose I did say it. I didn't mean to -offend the memory of your mother. -He had spoken himself into boldness. Stephen, shielding the gaping wounds -which the words had left in his heart, said very coldly -I am not thinking of the offence to my mother. -Of what then? Buck Mulligan asked. -Of the offence to me, Stephen answered. -Buck Mulligan swung round on his heel. -O, an impossible person he exclaimed. -He walked off quickly round the parapet. Stephen stood at his post, -gazing over the calm sea towards the headland. Sea and headland now grew -dim. Pulses were beating in his eyes, veiling their sight, and he felt -the fever of his cheeks. -A voice within the tower called loudly -Are you up there, Mulligan? -I'm coming, Buck Mulligan answered. -He turned towards Stephen and said -Look at the sea. What does it care about offences? Chuck Loyola, Kinch, -and come on down. The Sassenach wants his morning rashers. -His head halted again for a moment at the top of the staircase, level -with the roof -Don't mope over it all day, he said. I'm inconsequent. Give up the -moody brooding. -His head vanished but the drone of his descending voice boomed out of the -stairhead -AND NO MORE TURN ASIDE AND BROOD -UPON LOVE'S BITTER MYSTERY -FOR FERGUS RULES THE BRAZEN CARS. -Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the -stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of -water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet. White breast of the -dim sea. The twining stresses, two by two. A hand plucking the -harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Wavewhite wedded words -shimmering on the dim tide. -A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly, shadowing the bay in -deeper green. It lay beneath him, a bowl of bitter waters. Fergus' song -I sang it alone in the house, holding down the long dark chords. Her door -was open she wanted to hear my music. Silent with awe and pity I went to -her bedside. She was crying in her wretched bed. For those words, -Stephen love's bitter mystery. -Where now? -Her secrets old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a -gaud of amber beads in her locked drawer. A birdcage hung in the sunny -window of her house when she was a girl. She heard old Royce sing in the -pantomime of TURKO THE TERRIBLE and laughed with others when he sang -I AM THE BOY -THAT CAN ENJOY -INVISIBILITY. -Phantasmal mirth, folded away muskperfumed. -AND NO MORE TURN ASIDE AND BROOD. -Folded away in the memory of nature with her toys. Memories beset his -brooding brain. Her glass of water from the kitchen tap when she had -approached the sacrament. A cored apple, filled with brown sugar, -roasting for her at the hob on a dark autumn evening. Her shapely -fingernails reddened by the blood of squashed lice from the children's -shirts. -In a dream, silently, she had come to him, her wasted body within its -loose graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, -bent over him with mute secret words, a faint odour of wetted ashes. -Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, to shake and bend my soul. On me -alone. The ghostcandle to light her agony. Ghostly light on the tortured -face. Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while all prayed on -their knees. Her eyes on me to strike me down. LILIATA RUTILANTIUM TE -CONFESSORUM TURMA CIRCUMDET IUBILANTIUM TE VIRGINUM CHORUS EXCIPIAT. -Ghoul Chewer of corpses -No, mother Let me be and let me live. -Kinch ahoy -Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower. It came nearer up the -staircase, calling again. Stephen, still trembling at his soul's cry, -heard warm running sunlight and in the air behind him friendly words. -Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is -apologising for waking us last night. It's all right. -I'm coming, Stephen said, turning. -Do, for Jesus' sake, Buck Mulligan said. For my sake and for all our -sakes. -His head disappeared and reappeared. -I told him your symbol of Irish art. He says it's very clever. Touch -him for a quid, will you? A guinea, I mean. -I get paid this morning, Stephen said. -The school kip? Buck Mulligan said. How much? Four quid? Lend us one. -If you want it, Stephen said. -Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan cried with delight. We'll have a -glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids. Four omnipotent sovereigns. -He flung up his hands and tramped down the stone stairs, singing out of -tune with a Cockney accent -O, WON'T WE HAVE A MERRY TIME, -DRINKING WHISKY, BEER AND WINE -ON CORONATION, -CORONATION DAY -O, WON'T WE HAVE A MERRY TIME -ON CORONATION DAY -Warm sunshine merrying over the sea. The nickel shavingbowl shone, -forgotten, on the parapet. Why should I bring it down? Or leave it there -all day, forgotten friendship? -He went over to it, held it in his hands awhile, feeling its coolness, -smelling the clammy slaver of the lather in which the brush was stuck. So -I carried the boat of incense then at Clongowes. I am another now and yet -the same. A servant too. A server of a servant. -In the gloomy domed livingroom of the tower Buck Mulligan's gowned form -moved briskly to and fro about the hearth, hiding and revealing its -yellow glow. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the flagged floor -from the high barbacans and at the meeting of their rays a cloud of -coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning. -We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan said. Haines, open that door, will you? -Stephen laid the shavingbowl on the locker. A tall figure rose from the -hammock where it had been sitting, went to the doorway and pulled open -the inner doors. -Have you the key? a voice asked. -Dedalus has it, Buck Mulligan said. Janey Mack, I'm choked -He howled, without looking up from the fire -Kinch -It's in the lock, Stephen said, coming forward. -The key scraped round harshly twice and, when the heavy door had been set -ajar, welcome light and bright air entered. Haines stood at the doorway, -looking out. Stephen haled his upended valise to the table and sat down -to wait. Buck Mulligan tossed the fry on to the dish beside him. Then he -carried the dish and a large teapot over to the table, set them down -heavily and sighed with relief. -I'm melting, he said, as the candle remarked when ... But, hush Not a -word more on that subject Kinch, wake up Bread, butter, honey. Haines, -come in. The grub is ready. Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts. -Where's the sugar? O, jay, there's no milk. -Stephen fetched the loaf and the pot of honey and the buttercooler from -the locker. Buck Mulligan sat down in a sudden pet. -What sort of a kip is this? he said. I told her to come after eight. -We can drink it black, Stephen said thirstily. There's a lemon in the -locker. -O, damn you and your Paris fads Buck Mulligan said. I want Sandycove -milk. -Haines came in from the doorway and said quietly -That woman is coming up with the milk. -The blessings of God on you Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his -chair. Sit down. Pour out the tea there. The sugar is in the bag. Here, I -can't go fumbling at the damned eggs. -He hacked through the fry on the dish and slapped it out on three plates, -saying -IN NOMINE PATRIS ET FILII ET SPIRITUS SANCTI. -Haines sat down to pour out the tea. -I'm giving you two lumps each, he said. But, I say, Mulligan, you do -make strong tea, don't you? -Buck Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the loaf, said in an old woman's -wheedling voice -When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I -makes water I makes water. -By Jove, it is tea, Haines said. -Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling -SO I DO, MRS CAHILL, says she. BEGOB, MA'AM, says Mrs Cahill, GOD SEND -YOU DON'T MAKE THEM IN THE ONE POT. -He lunged towards his messmates in turn a thick slice of bread, impaled -on his knife. -That's folk, he said very earnestly, for your book, Haines. Five lines -of text and ten pages of notes about the folk and the fishgods of -Dundrum. Printed by the weird sisters in the year of the big wind. -He turned to Stephen and asked in a fine puzzled voice, lifting his -brows -Can you recall, brother, is mother Grogan's tea and water pot spoken of -in the Mabinogion or is it in the Upanishads? -I doubt it, said Stephen gravely. -Do you now? Buck Mulligan said in the same tone. Your reasons, pray? -I fancy, Stephen said as he ate, it did not exist in or out of the -Mabinogion. Mother Grogan was, one imagines, a kinswoman of Mary Ann. -Buck Mulligan's face smiled with delight. -Charming he said in a finical sweet voice, showing his white teeth and -blinking his eyes pleasantly. Do you think she was? Quite charming -Then, suddenly overclouding all his features, he growled in a hoarsened -rasping voice as he hewed again vigorously at the loaf -FOR OLD MARY ANN -SHE DOESN'T CARE A DAMN. -BUT, HISING UP HER PETTICOATS ... -He crammed his mouth with fry and munched and droned. -The doorway was darkened by an entering form. -The milk, sir -Come in, ma'am, Mulligan said. Kinch, get the jug. -An old woman came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow. -That's a lovely morning, sir, she said. Glory be to God. -To whom? Mulligan said, glancing at her. Ah, to be sure -Stephen reached back and took the milkjug from the locker. -The islanders, Mulligan said to Haines casually, speak frequently of -the collector of prepuces. -How much, sir? asked the old woman. -A quart, Stephen said. -He watched her pour into the measure and thence into the jug rich white -milk, not hers. Old shrunken paps. She poured again a measureful and a -tilly. Old and secret she had entered from a morning world, maybe a -messenger. She praised the goodness of the milk, pouring it out. -Crouching by a patient cow at daybreak in the lush field, a witch on her -toadstool, her wrinkled fingers quick at the squirting dugs. They lowed -about her whom they knew, dewsilky cattle. Silk of the kine and poor old -woman, names given her in old times. A wandering crone, lowly form of an -immortal serving her conqueror and her gay betrayer, their common -cuckquean, a messenger from the secret morning. To serve or to upbraid, -whether he could not tell but scorned to beg her favour. -It is indeed, ma'am, Buck Mulligan said, pouring milk into their cups. -Taste it, sir, she said. -He drank at her bidding. -If we could live on good food like that, he said to her somewhat -loudly, we wouldn't have the country full of rotten teeth and rotten -guts. Living in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the streets paved with -dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits. -Are you a medical student, sir? the old woman asked. -I am, ma'am, Buck Mulligan answered. -Look at that now, she said. -Stephen listened in scornful silence. She bows her old head to a voice -that speaks to her loudly, her bonesetter, her medicineman me she -slights. To the voice that will shrive and oil for the grave all there is -of her but her woman's unclean loins, of man's flesh made not in God's -likeness, the serpent's prey. And to the loud voice that now bids her be -silent with wondering unsteady eyes. -Do you understand what he says? Stephen asked her. -Is it French you are talking, sir? the old woman said to Haines. -Haines spoke to her again a longer speech, confidently. -Irish, Buck Mulligan said. Is there Gaelic on you? -I thought it was Irish, she said, by the sound of it. Are you from the -west, sir? -I am an Englishman, Haines answered. -He's English, Buck Mulligan said, and he thinks we ought to speak Irish -in Ireland. -Sure we ought to, the old woman said, and I'm ashamed I don't speak the -language myself. I'm told it's a grand language by them that knows. -Grand is no name for it, said Buck Mulligan. Wonderful entirely. Fill -us out some more tea, Kinch. Would you like a cup, ma'am? -No, thank you, sir, the old woman said, slipping the ring of the -milkcan on her forearm and about to go. -Haines said to her -Have you your bill? We had better pay her, Mulligan, hadn't we? -Stephen filled again the three cups. -Bill, sir? she said, halting. Well, it's seven mornings a pint at -twopence is seven twos is a shilling and twopence over and these three -mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a shilling. That's a -shilling and one and two is two and two, sir. -Buck Mulligan sighed and, having filled his mouth with a crust thickly -buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to search his -trouser pockets. -Pay up and look pleasant, Haines said to him, smiling. -Stephen filled a third cup, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick -rich milk. Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his -fingers and cried -A miracle -He passed it along the table towards the old woman, saying -Ask nothing more of me, sweet. All I can give you I give. -Stephen laid the coin in her uneager hand. -We'll owe twopence, he said. -Time enough, sir, she said, taking the coin. Time enough. Good morning, -sir. -She curtseyed and went out, followed by Buck Mulligan's tender chant -HEART OF MY HEART, WERE IT MORE, -MORE WOULD BE LAID AT YOUR FEET. -He turned to Stephen and said -Seriously, Dedalus. I'm stony. Hurry out to your school kip and bring -us back some money. Today the bards must drink and junket. Ireland -expects that every man this day will do his duty. -That reminds me, Haines said, rising, that I have to visit your -national library today. -Our swim first, Buck Mulligan said. -He turned to Stephen and asked blandly -Is this the day for your monthly wash, Kinch? -Then he said to Haines -The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month. -All Ireland is washed by the gulfstream, Stephen said as he let honey -trickle over a slice of the loaf. -Haines from the corner where he was knotting easily a scarf about the -loose collar of his tennis shirt spoke -I intend to make a collection of your sayings if you will let me. -Speaking to me. They wash and tub and scrub. Agenbite of inwit. -Conscience. Yet here's a spot. -That one about the cracked lookingglass of a servant being the symbol -of Irish art is deuced good. -Buck Mulligan kicked Stephen's foot under the table and said with warmth -of tone -Wait till you hear him on Hamlet, Haines. -Well, I mean it, Haines said, still speaking to Stephen. I was just -thinking of it when that poor old creature came in. -Would I make any money by it? Stephen asked. -Haines laughed and, as he took his soft grey hat from the holdfast of the -hammock, said -I don't know, I'm sure. -He strolled out to the doorway. Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen and -said with coarse vigour -You put your hoof in it now. What did you say that for? -Well? Stephen said. The problem is to get money. From whom? From the -milkwoman or from him. It's a toss up, I think. -I blow him out about you, Buck Mulligan said, and then you come along -with your lousy leer and your gloomy jesuit jibes. -I see little hope, Stephen said, from her or from him. -Buck Mulligan sighed tragically and laid his hand on Stephen's arm. -From me, Kinch, he said. -In a suddenly changed tone he added -To tell you the God's truth I think you're right. Damn all else they -are good for. Why don't you play them as I do? To hell with them all. Let -us get out of the kip. -He stood up, gravely ungirdled and disrobed himself of his gown, saying -resignedly -Mulligan is stripped of his garments. -He emptied his pockets on to the table. -There's your snotrag, he said. -And putting on his stiff collar and rebellious tie he spoke to them, -chiding them, and to his dangling watchchain. His hands plunged and -rummaged in his trunk while he called for a clean handkerchief. God, -we'll simply have to dress the character. I want puce gloves and green -boots. Contradiction. Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I -contradict myself. Mercurial Malachi. A limp black missile flew out of -his talking hands. -And there's your Latin quarter hat, he said. -Stephen picked it up and put it on. Haines called to them from the -doorway -Are you coming, you fellows? -I'm ready, Buck Mulligan answered, going towards the door. Come out, -Kinch. You have eaten all we left, I suppose. Resigned he passed out with -grave words and gait, saying, wellnigh with sorrow -And going forth he met Butterly. -Stephen, taking his ashplant from its leaningplace, followed them out -and, as they went down the ladder, pulled to the slow iron door and -locked it. He put the huge key in his inner pocket. -At the foot of the ladder Buck Mulligan asked -Did you bring the key? -I have it, Stephen said, preceding them. -He walked on. Behind him he heard Buck Mulligan club with his heavy -bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses. -Down, sir How dare you, sir -Haines asked -Do you pay rent for this tower? -Twelve quid, Buck Mulligan said. -To the secretary of state for war, Stephen added over his shoulder. -They halted while Haines surveyed the tower and said at last -Rather bleak in wintertime, I should say. Martello you call it? -Billy Pitt had them built, Buck Mulligan said, when the French were on -the sea. But ours is the OMPHALOS. -What is your idea of Hamlet? Haines asked Stephen. -No, no, Buck Mulligan shouted in pain. I'm not equal to Thomas Aquinas -and the fiftyfive reasons he has made out to prop it up. Wait till I have -a few pints in me first. -He turned to Stephen, saying, as he pulled down neatly the peaks of his -primrose waistcoat -You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch, could you? -It has waited so long, Stephen said listlessly, it can wait longer. -You pique my curiosity, Haines said amiably. Is it some paradox? -Pooh Buck Mulligan said. We have grown out of Wilde and paradoxes. -It's quite simple. He proves by algebra that Hamlet's grandson is -Shakespeare's grandfather and that he himself is the ghost of his own -father. -What? Haines said, beginning to point at Stephen. He himself? -Buck Mulligan slung his towel stolewise round his neck and, bending in -loose laughter, said to Stephen's ear -O, shade of Kinch the elder Japhet in search of a father -We're always tired in the morning, Stephen said to Haines. And it is -rather long to tell. -Buck Mulligan, walking forward again, raised his hands. -The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus, he said. -I mean to say, Haines explained to Stephen as they followed, this tower -and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. THAT BEETLES O'ER -HIS BASE INTO THE SEA, ISN'T IT? -Buck Mulligan turned suddenly. for an instant towards Stephen but did not -speak. In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own image in cheap -dusty mourning between their gay attires. -It's a wonderful tale, Haines said, bringing them to halt again. -Eyes, pale as the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. -The seas' ruler, he gazed southward over the bay, empty save for the -smokeplume of the mailboat vague on the bright skyline and a sail tacking -by the Muglins. -I read a theological interpretation of it somewhere, he said bemused. -The Father and the Son idea. The Son striving to be atoned with the -Father. -Buck Mulligan at once put on a blithe broadly smiling face. He looked at -them, his wellshaped mouth open happily, his eyes, from which he had -suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. He moved a -doll's head to and fro, the brims of his Panama hat quivering, and began -to chant in a quiet happy foolish voice -I'M THE QUEEREST YOUNG FELLOW THAT EVER YOU HEARD. -MY MOTHER'S A JEW, MY FATHER'S A BIRD. -WITH JOSEPH THE JOINER I CANNOT AGREE. -SO HERE'S TO DISCIPLES AND CALVARY. -He held up a forefinger of warning. -IF ANYONE THINKS THAT I AMN'T DIVINE -HE'LL GET NO FREE DRINKS WHEN I'M MAKING THE WINE -BUT HAVE TO DRINK WATER AND WISH IT WERE PLAIN -THAT I MAKE WHEN THE WINE BECOMES WATER AGAIN. -He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, running forward -to a brow of the cliff, fluttered his hands at his sides like fins or -wings of one about to rise in the air, and chanted -GOODBYE, NOW, GOODBYE WRITE DOWN ALL I SAID -AND TELL TOM, DIEK AND HARRY I ROSE FROM THE DEAD. -WHAT'S BRED IN THE BONE CANNOT FAIL ME TO FLY -AND OLIVET'S BREEZY ... GOODBYE, NOW, GOODBYE -He capered before them down towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his -winglike hands, leaping nimbly, Mercury's hat quivering in the fresh wind -that bore back to them his brief birdsweet cries. -Haines, who had been laughing guardedly, walked on beside Stephen and -said -We oughtn't to laugh, I suppose. He's rather blasphemous. I'm not a -believer myself, that is to say. Still his gaiety takes the harm out of -it somehow, doesn't it? What did he call it? Joseph the Joiner? -The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen answered. -O, Haines said, you have heard it before? -Three times a day, after meals, Stephen said drily. -You're not a believer, are you? Haines asked. I mean, a believer in the -narrow sense of the word. Creation from nothing and miracles and a -personal God. -There's only one sense of the word, it seems to me, Stephen said. -Haines stopped to take out a smooth silver case in which twinkled a green -stone. He sprang it open with his thumb and offered it. -Thank you, Stephen said, taking a cigarette. -Haines helped himself and snapped the case to. He put it back in his -sidepocket and took from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang -it open too, and, having lit his cigarette, held the flaming spunk -towards Stephen in the shell of his hands. -Yes, of course, he said, as they went on again. Either you believe or -you don't, isn't it? Personally I couldn't stomach that idea of a -personal God. You don't stand for that, I suppose? -You behold in me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a horrible -example of free thought. -He walked on, waiting to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant by his side. -Its ferrule followed lightly on the path, squealing at his heels. My -familiar, after me, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen A wavering line along -the path. They will walk on it tonight, coming here in the dark. He wants -that key. It is mine. I paid the rent. Now I eat his salt bread. Give him -the key too. All. He will ask for it. That was in his eyes. -After all, Haines began ... -Stephen turned and saw that the cold gaze which had measured him was not -all unkind. -After all, I should think you are able to free yourself. You are your -own master, it seems to me. -I am a servant of two masters, Stephen said, an English and an Italian. -Italian? Haines said. -A crazy queen, old and jealous. Kneel down before me. -And a third, Stephen said, there is who wants me for odd jobs. -Italian? Haines said again. What do you mean? -The imperial British state, Stephen answered, his colour rising, and -the holy Roman catholic and apostolic church. -Haines detached from his underlip some fibres of tobacco before he spoke. -I can quite understand that, he said calmly. An Irishman must think -like that, I daresay. We feel in England that we have treated you rather -unfairly. It seems history is to blame. -The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of -their brazen bells ET UNAM SANCTAM CATHOLICAM ET APOSTOLICAM ECCLESIAM -the slow growth and change of rite and dogma like his own rare thoughts, -a chemistry of stars. Symbol of the apostles in the mass for pope -Marcellus, the voices blended, singing alone loud in affirmation and -behind their chant the vigilant angel of the church militant disarmed and -menaced her heresiarchs. A horde of heresies fleeing with mitres awry -Photius and the brood of mockers of whom Mulligan was one, and Arius, -warring his life long upon the consubstantiality of the Son with the -Father, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and the subtle -African heresiarch Sabellius who held that the Father was Himself His own -Son. Words Mulligan had spoken a moment since in mockery to the stranger. -Idle mockery. The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind a -menace, a disarming and a worsting from those embattled angels of the -church, Michael's host, who defend her ever in the hour of conflict with -their lances and their shields. -Hear, hear Prolonged applause. ZUT NOM DE DIEU -Of course I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, and I feel as one. I -don't want to see my country fall into the hands of German jews either. -That's our national problem, I'm afraid, just now. -Two men stood at the verge of the cliff, watching businessman, boatman. -She's making for Bullock harbour. -The boatman nodded towards the north of the bay with some disdain. -There's five fathoms out there, he said. It'll be swept up that way -when the tide comes in about one. It's nine days today. -The man that was drowned. A sail veering about the blank bay waiting for -a swollen bundle to bob up, roll over to the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. -Here I am. -They followed the winding path down to the creek. Buck Mulligan stood on -a stone, in shirtsleeves, his unclipped tie rippling over his shoulder. A -young man clinging to a spur of rock near him, moved slowly frogwise his -green legs in the deep jelly of the water. -Is the brother with you, Malachi? -Down in Westmeath. With the Bannons. -Still there? I got a card from Bannon. Says he found a sweet young -thing down there. Photo girl he calls her. -Snapshot, eh? Brief exposure. -Buck Mulligan sat down to unlace his boots. An elderly man shot up near -the spur of rock a blowing red face. He scrambled up by the stones, water -glistening on his pate and on its garland of grey hair, water rilling -over his chest and paunch and spilling jets out of his black sagging -loincloth. -Buck Mulligan made way for him to scramble past and, glancing at Haines -and Stephen, crossed himself piously with his thumbnail at brow and lips -and breastbone. -Seymour's back in town, the young man said, grasping again his spur of -rock. Chucked medicine and going in for the army. -Ah, go to God Buck Mulligan said. -Going over next week to stew. You know that red Carlisle girl, Lily? -Yes. -Spooning with him last night on the pier. The father is rotto with -money. -Is she up the pole? -Better ask Seymour that. -Seymour a bleeding officer Buck Mulligan said. -He nodded to himself as he drew off his trousers and stood up, saying -tritely -Redheaded women buck like goats. -He broke off in alarm, feeling his side under his flapping shirt. -My twelfth rib is gone, he cried. I'm the UBERMENSCH. Toothless Kinch -and I, the supermen. -He struggled out of his shirt and flung it behind him to where his -clothes lay. -Are you going in here, Malachi? -Yes. Make room in the bed. -The young man shoved himself backward through the water and reached the -middle of the creek in two long clean strokes. Haines sat down on a -stone, smoking. -Are you not coming in? Buck Mulligan asked. -Later on, Haines said. Not on my breakfast. -Stephen turned away. -I'm going, Mulligan, he said. -Give us that key, Kinch, Buck Mulligan said, to keep my chemise flat. -Stephen handed him the key. Buck Mulligan laid it across his heaped -clothes. -And twopence, he said, for a pint. Throw it there. -Stephen threw two pennies on the soft heap. Dressing, undressing. Buck -Mulligan erect, with joined hands before him, said solemnly -He who stealeth from the poor lendeth to the Lord. Thus spake -Zarathustra. -His plump body plunged. -We'll see you again, Haines said, turning as Stephen walked up the path -and smiling at wild Irish. -Horn of a bull, hoof of a horse, smile of a Saxon. -The Ship, Buck Mulligan cried. Half twelve. -Good, Stephen said. -He walked along the upwardcurving path. -LILIATA RUTILANTIUM. -TURMA CIRCUMDET. -IUBILANTIUM TE VIRGINUM. -The priest's grey nimbus in a niche where he dressed discreetly. I will -not sleep here tonight. Home also I cannot go. -A voice, sweettoned and sustained, called to him from the sea. Turning -the curve he waved his hand. It called again. A sleek brown head, a -seal's, far out on the water, round. -Usurper. -You, Cochrane, what city sent for him? -Tarentum, sir. -Very good. Well? -There was a battle, sir. -Very good. Where? -The boy's blank face asked the blank window. -Fabled by the daughters of memory. And yet it was in some way if not as -memory fabled it. A phrase, then, of impatience, thud of Blake's wings of -excess. I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling -masonry, and time one livid final flame. What's left us then? -I forget the place, sir. B. C. -Asculum, Stephen said, glancing at the name and date in the gorescarred -book. -Yes, sir. And he said ANOTHER VICTORY LIKE THAT AND WE ARE DONE FOR. -That phrase the world had remembered. A dull ease of the mind. From a -hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his officers, -leaned upon his spear. Any general to any officers. They lend ear. -You, Armstrong, Stephen said. What was the end of Pyrrhus? -End of Pyrrhus, sir? -I know, sir. Ask me, sir, Comyn said. -Wait. You, Armstrong. Do you know anything about Pyrrhus? -A bag of figrolls lay snugly in Armstrong's satchel. He curled them -between his palms at whiles and swallowed them softly. Crumbs adhered to -the tissue of his lips. A sweetened boy's breath. Welloff people, proud -that their eldest son was in the navy. Vico road, Dalkey. -Pyrrhus, sir? Pyrrhus, a pier. -All laughed. Mirthless high malicious laughter. Armstrong looked round at -his classmates, silly glee in profile. In a moment they will laugh more -loudly, aware of my lack of rule and of the fees their papas pay. -Tell me now, Stephen said, poking the boy's shoulder with the book, -what is a pier. -A pier, sir, Armstrong said. A thing out in the water. A kind of a -bridge. Kingstown pier, sir. -Some laughed again mirthless but with meaning. Two in the back bench -whispered. Yes. They knew had never learned nor ever been innocent. All. -With envy he watched their faces Edith, Ethel, Gerty, Lily. Their likes -their breaths, too, sweetened with tea and jam, their bracelets tittering -in the struggle. -Kingstown pier, Stephen said. Yes, a disappointed bridge. -The words troubled their gaze. -How, sir? Comyn asked. A bridge is across a river. -For Haines's chapbook. Noone here to hear. Tonight deftly amid wild -drink and talk, to pierce the polished mail of his mind. What then? A -jester at the court of his master, indulged and disesteemed, winning a -clement master's praise. Why had they chosen all that part? Not wholly -for the smooth caress. For them too history was a tale like any other too -often heard, their land a pawnshop. -Had Pyrrhus not fallen by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not -been knifed to death. They are not to be thought away. Time has branded -them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite -possibilities they have ousted. But can those have been possible seeing -that they never were? Or was that only possible which came to pass? -Weave, weaver of the wind. -Tell us a story, sir. -O, do, sir. A ghoststory. -Where do you begin in this? Stephen asked, opening another book. -WEEP NO MORE, Comyn said. -Go on then, Talbot. -And the story, sir? -After, Stephen said. Go on, Talbot. -A swarthy boy opened a book and propped it nimbly under the breastwork of -his satchel. He recited jerks of verse with odd glances at the text -WEEP NO MORE, WOFUL SHEPHERDS, WEEP NO MORE -FOR LYCIDAS, YOUR SORROW, IS NOT DEAD, -SUNK THOUGH HE BE BENEATH THE WATERY FLOOR ... -It must be a movement then, an actuality of the possible as possible. -Aristotle's phrase formed itself within the gabbled verses and floated -out into the studious silence of the library of Saint Genevieve where he -had read, sheltered from the sin of Paris, night by night. By his elbow a -delicate Siamese conned a handbook of strategy. Fed and feeding brains -about me under glowlamps, impaled, with faintly beating feelers and in -my mind's darkness a sloth of the underworld, reluctant, shy of -brightness, shifting her dragon scaly folds. Thought is the thought of -thought. Tranquil brightness. The soul is in a manner all that is the -soul is the form of forms. Tranquility sudden, vast, candescent form of -forms. -Talbot repeated -THROUGH THE DEAR MIGHT OF HIM THAT WALKED THE WAVES, -THROUGH THE DEAR MIGHT ... -Turn over, Stephen said quietly. I don't see anything. -What, sir? Talbot asked simply, bending forward. -His hand turned the page over. He leaned back and went on again, -having just remembered. Of him that walked the waves. Here also over -these craven hearts his shadow lies and on the scoffer's heart and lips -and on mine. It lies upon their eager faces who offered him a coin of the -tribute. To Caesar what is Caesar's, to God what is God's. A long look -from dark eyes, a riddling sentence to be woven and woven on the church's -looms. Ay. -RIDDLE ME, RIDDLE ME, RANDY RO. -MY FATHER GAVE ME SEEDS TO SOW. -Talbot slid his closed book into his satchel. -Have I heard all? Stephen asked. -Yes, sir. Hockey at ten, sir. -Half day, sir. Thursday. -Who can answer a riddle? Stephen asked. -They bundled their books away, pencils clacking, pages rustling. -Crowding together they strapped and buckled their satchels, all gabbling -gaily -A riddle, sir? Ask me, sir. -O, ask me, sir. -A hard one, sir. -This is the riddle, Stephen said -THE COCK CREW, -THE SKY WAS BLUE -THE BELLS IN HEAVEN -WERE STRIKING ELEVEN. -'TIS TIME FOR THIS POOR SOUL -TO GO TO HEAVEN. -What is that? -What, sir? -Again, sir. We didn't hear. -Their eyes grew bigger as the lines were repeated. After a silence -Cochrane said -What is it, sir? We give it up. -Stephen, his throat itching, answered -The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush. -He stood up and gave a shout of nervous laughter to which their cries -echoed dismay. -A stick struck the door and a voice in the corridor called -Hockey -They broke asunder, sidling out of their benches, leaping them. -Quickly they were gone and from the lumberroom came the rattle of sticks -and clamour of their boots and tongues. -Sargent who alone had lingered came forward slowly, showing an -open copybook. His thick hair and scraggy neck gave witness of -unreadiness and through his misty glasses weak eyes looked up pleading. -On his cheek, dull and bloodless, a soft stain of ink lay, dateshaped, -recent and damp as a snail's bed. -He held out his copybook. The word SUMS was written on the -headline. Beneath were sloping figures and at the foot a crooked signature -with blind loops and a blot. Cyril Sargent his name and seal. -Mr Deasy told me to write them out all again, he said, and show them to -you, sir. -Stephen touched the edges of the book. Futility. -Do you understand how to do them now? he asked. -Numbers eleven to fifteen, Sargent answered. Mr Deasy said I was to -copy them off the board, sir. -Can you do them. yourself? Stephen asked. -No, sir. -Ugly and futile lean neck and thick hair and a stain of ink, a snail's -bed. Yet someone had loved him, borne him in her arms and in her heart. -But for her the race of the world would have trampled him underfoot, a -squashed boneless snail. She had loved his weak watery blood drained from -her own. Was that then real? The only true thing in life? His mother's -prostrate body the fiery Columbanus in holy zeal bestrode. She was no -more the trembling skeleton of a twig burnt in the fire, an odour of -rosewood and wetted ashes. She had saved him from being trampled -underfoot and had gone, scarcely having been. A poor soul gone to heaven -and on a heath beneath winking stars a fox, red reek of rapine in his fur, -with merciless bright eyes scraped in the earth, listened, scraped up the -earth, listened, scraped and scraped. -Sitting at his side Stephen solved out the problem. He proves by -algebra that Shakespeare's ghost is Hamlet's grandfather. Sargent peered -askance through his slanted glasses. Hockeysticks rattled in the -lumberroom the hollow knock of a ball and calls from the field. -Across the page the symbols moved in grave morrice, in the mummery -of their letters, wearing quaint caps of squares and cubes. Give hands, -traverse, bow to partner so imps of fancy of the Moors. Gone too from -the world, Averroes and Moses Maimonides, dark men in mien and -movement, flashing in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the -world, a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not -comprehend. -Do you understand now? Can you work the second for yourself? -Yes, sir. -In long shaky strokes Sargent copied the data. Waiting always for a -word of help his hand moved faithfully the unsteady symbols, a faint hue -of shame flickering behind his dull skin. AMOR MATRIS subjective and -objective genitive. With her weak blood and wheysour milk she had fed him -and hid from sight of others his swaddling bands. -Like him was I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. My -childhood bends beside me. Too far for me to lay a hand there once or -lightly. Mine is far and his secret as our eyes. Secrets, silent, stony -sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts secrets weary of their -tyranny tyrants, willing to be dethroned. -The sum was done. -It is very simple, Stephen said as he stood up. -Yes, sir. Thanks, Sargent answered. -He dried the page with a sheet of thin blottingpaper and carried his -copybook back to his bench. -You had better get your stick and go out to the others, Stephen said as -he followed towards the door the boy's graceless form. -Yes, sir. -In the corridor his name was heard, called from the playfield. -Sargent -Run on, Stephen said. Mr Deasy is calling you. -He stood in the porch and watched the laggard hurry towards the -scrappy field where sharp voices were in strife. They were sorted in teams -and Mr Deasy came away stepping over wisps of grass with gaitered feet. -When he had reached the schoolhouse voices again contending called to -him. He turned his angry white moustache. -What is it now? he cried continually without listening. -Cochrane and Halliday are on the same side, sir, Stephen said. -Will you wait in my study for a moment, Mr Deasy said, till I restore -order here. -And as he stepped fussily back across the field his old man's voice -cried sternly -What is the matter? What is it now? -Their sharp voices cried about him on all sides their many forms -closed round him, the garish sunshine bleaching the honey of his illdyed -head. -Stale smoky air hung in the study with the smell of drab abraded -leather of its chairs. As on the first day he bargained with me here. As -it was in the beginning, is now. On the sideboard the tray of Stuart -coins, base treasure of a bog and ever shall be. And snug in their -spooncase of purple plush, faded, the twelve apostles having preached to -all the gentiles world without end. -A hasty step over the stone porch and in the corridor. Blowing out his -rare moustache Mr Deasy halted at the table. -First, our little financial settlement, he said. -He brought out of his coat a pocketbook bound by a leather thong. It -slapped open and he took from it two notes, one of joined halves, and laid -them carefully on the table. -Two, he said, strapping and stowing his pocketbook away. -And now his strongroom for the gold. Stephen's embarrassed hand -moved over the shells heaped in the cold stone mortar whelks and money -cowries and leopard shells and this, whorled as an emir's turban, and -this, the scallop of saint James. An old pilgrim's hoard, dead treasure, -hollow shells. -A sovereign fell, bright and new, on the soft pile of the tablecloth. -Three, Mr Deasy said, turning his little savingsbox about in his hand. -These are handy things to have. See. This is for sovereigns. This is for -shillings. Sixpences, halfcrowns. And here crowns. See. -He shot from it two crowns and two shillings. -Three twelve, he said. I think you'll find that's right. -Thank you, sir, Stephen said, gathering the money together with shy -haste and putting it all in a pocket of his trousers. -No thanks at all, Mr Deasy said. You have earned it. -Stephen's hand, free again, went back to the hollow shells. Symbols -too of beauty and of power. A lump in my pocket symbols soiled by greed -and misery. -Don't carry it like that, Mr Deasy said. You'll pull it out somewhere -and lose it. You just buy one of these machines. You'll find them very -handy. -Answer something. -Mine would be often empty, Stephen said. -The same room and hour, the same wisdom and I the same. Three -times now. Three nooses round me here. Well? I can break them in this -instant if I will. -Because you don't save, Mr Deasy said, pointing his finger. You don't -know yet what money is. Money is power. When you have lived as long as I -have. I know, I know. If youth but knew. But what does Shakespeare say? -PUT BUT MONEY IN THY PURSE. -Iago, Stephen murmured. -He lifted his gaze from the idle shells to the old man's stare. -He knew what money was, Mr Deasy said. He made money. A poet, yes, -but an Englishman too. Do you know what is the pride of the English? Do -you know what is the proudest word you will ever hear from an -Englishman's mouth? -The seas' ruler. His seacold eyes looked on the empty bay it seems -history is to blame on me and on my words, unhating. -That on his empire, Stephen said, the sun never sets. -Ba Mr Deasy cried. That's not English. A French Celt said that. He -tapped his savingsbox against his thumbnail. -I will tell you, he said solemnly, what is his proudest boast. I PAID -MY WAY. -Good man, good man. -I PAID MY WAY. I NEVER BORROWED A SHILLING IN MY LIFE. Can you feel -that? I OWE NOTHING. Can you? -Mulligan, nine pounds, three pairs of socks, one pair brogues, ties. -Curran, ten guineas. McCann, one guinea. Fred Ryan, two shillings. -Temple, two lunches. Russell, one guinea, Cousins, ten shillings, Bob -Reynolds, half a guinea, Koehler, three guineas, Mrs MacKernan, five -weeks' board. The lump I have is useless. -For the moment, no, Stephen answered. -Mr Deasy laughed with rich delight, putting back his savingsbox. -I knew you couldn't, he said joyously. But one day you must feel it. We -are a generous people but we must also be just. -I fear those big words, Stephen said, which make us so unhappy. -Mr Deasy stared sternly for some moments over the mantelpiece at -the shapely bulk of a man in tartan filibegs Albert Edward, prince of -Wales. -You think me an old fogey and an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I -saw three generations since O'Connell's time. I remember the famine -in '. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the -union twenty years before O'Connell did or before the prelates of your -communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. -Glorious, pious and immortal memory. The lodge of Diamond in -Armagh the splendid behung with corpses of papishes. Hoarse, masked and -armed, the planters' covenant. The black north and true blue bible. -Croppies lie down. -Stephen sketched a brief gesture. -I have rebel blood in me too, Mr Deasy said. On the spindle side. But I -am descended from sir John Blackwood who voted for the union. We are all -Irish, all kings' sons. -Alas, Stephen said. -PER VIAS RECTAS, Mr Deasy said firmly, was his motto. He voted for it -and put on his topboots to ride to Dublin from the Ards of Down to do so. -LAL THE RAL THE RA -THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN. -A gruff squire on horseback with shiny topboots. Soft day, sir John -Soft day, your honour ... Day ... Day ... Two topboots jog dangling -on to Dublin. Lal the ral the ra. Lal the ral the raddy. -That reminds me, Mr Deasy said. You can do me a favour, Mr Dedalus, -with some of your literary friends. I have a letter here for the press. -Sit down a moment. I have just to copy the end. -He went to the desk near the window, pulled in his chair twice and -read off some words from the sheet on the drum of his typewriter. -Sit down. Excuse me, he said over his shoulder, THE DICTATES OF COMMON -SENSE. Just a moment. -He peered from under his shaggy brows at the manuscript by his -elbow and, muttering, began to prod the stiff buttons of the keyboard -slowly, sometimes blowing as he screwed up the drum to erase an error. -Stephen seated himself noiselessly before the princely presence. -Framed around the walls images of vanished horses stood in homage, their -meek heads poised in air lord Hastings' Repulse, the duke of -Westminster's Shotover, the duke of Beaufort's Ceylon, PRIX DE PARIS, -. Elfin riders sat them, watchful of a sign. He saw their speeds, -backing king's colours, and shouted with the shouts of vanished crowds. -Full stop, Mr Deasy bade his keys. But prompt ventilation of this -allimportant question ... -Where Cranly led me to get rich quick, hunting his winners among -the mudsplashed brakes, amid the bawls of bookies on their pitches and -reek of the canteen, over the motley slush. Fair Rebel Fair Rebel Even -money the favourite ten to one the field. Dicers and thimbleriggers we -hurried by after the hoofs, the vying caps and jackets and past the -meatfaced woman, a butcher's dame, nuzzling thirstily her clove of orange. -Shouts rang shrill from the boys' playfield and a whirring whistle. -Again a goal. I am among them, among their battling bodies in a -medley, the joust of life. You mean that knockkneed mother's darling who -seems to be slightly crawsick? Jousts. Time shocked rebounds, shock by -shock. Jousts, slush and uproar of battles, the frozen deathspew of the -slain, a shout of spearspikes baited with men's bloodied guts. -Now then, Mr Deasy said, rising. -He came to the table, pinning together his sheets. Stephen stood up. -I have put the matter into a nutshell, Mr Deasy said. It's about the -foot and mouth disease. Just look through it. There can be no two opinions -on the matter. -May I trespass on your valuable space. That doctrine of LAISSEZ FAIRE -which so often in our history. Our cattle trade. The way of all our old -industries. Liverpool ring which jockeyed the Galway harbour scheme. -European conflagration. Grain supplies through the narrow waters of the -channel. The pluterperfect imperturbability of the department of -agriculture. Pardoned a classical allusion. Cassandra. By a woman who -was no better than she should be. To come to the point at issue. -I don't mince words, do I? Mr Deasy asked as Stephen read on. -Foot and mouth disease. Known as Koch's preparation. Serum and -virus. Percentage of salted horses. Rinderpest. Emperor's horses at -Murzsteg, lower Austria. Veterinary surgeons. Mr Henry Blackwood Price. -Courteous offer a fair trial. Dictates of common sense. Allimportant -question. In every sense of the word take the bull by the horns. Thanking -you for the hospitality of your columns. -I want that to be printed and read, Mr Deasy said. You will see at the -next outbreak they will put an embargo on Irish cattle. And it can be -cured. It is cured. My cousin, Blackwood Price, writes to me it is -regularly treated and cured in Austria by cattledoctors there. They offer -to come over here. I am trying to work up influence with the department. -Now I'm going to try publicity. I am surrounded by difficulties, -by ... intrigues by ... backstairs influence by ... -He raised his forefinger and beat the air oldly before his voice spoke. -Mark my words, Mr Dedalus, he said. England is in the hands of the -jews. In all the highest places her finance, her press. And they are the -signs of a nation's decay. Wherever they gather they eat up the nation's -vital strength. I have seen it coming these years. As sure as we are -standing here the jew merchants are already at their work of destruction. -Old England is dying. -He stepped swiftly off, his eyes coming to blue life as they passed a -broad sunbeam. He faced about and back again. -Dying, he said again, if not dead by now. -THE HARLOT'S CRY FROM STREET TO STREET -SHALL WEAVE OLD ENGLAND'S WINDINGSHEET. -His eyes open wide in vision stared sternly across the sunbeam in -which he halted. -A merchant, Stephen said, is one who buys cheap and sells dear, jew or -gentile, is he not? -They sinned against the light, Mr Deasy said gravely. And you can see -the darkness in their eyes. And that is why they are wanderers on the -earth to this day. -On the steps of the Paris stock exchange the goldskinned men quoting -prices on their gemmed fingers. Gabble of geese. They swarmed loud, -uncouth about the temple, their heads thickplotting under maladroit silk -hats. Not theirs these clothes, this speech, these gestures. Their full -slow eyes belied the words, the gestures eager and unoffending, but knew -the rancours massed about them and knew their zeal was vain. Vain patience -to heap and hoard. Time surely would scatter all. A hoard heaped by the -roadside plundered and passing on. Their eyes knew their years of -wandering and, patient, knew the dishonours of their flesh. -Who has not? Stephen said. -What do you mean? Mr Deasy asked. -He came forward a pace and stood by the table. His underjaw fell -sideways open uncertainly. Is this old wisdom? He waits to hear from me. -History, Stephen said, is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake. -From the playfield the boys raised a shout. A whirring whistle goal. -What if that nightmare gave you a back kick? -The ways of the Creator are not our ways, Mr Deasy said. All human -history moves towards one great goal, the manifestation of God. -Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying -That is God. -Hooray Ay Whrrwhee -What? Mr Deasy asked. -A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders. -Mr Deasy looked down and held for awhile the wings of his nose -tweaked between his fingers. Looking up again he set them free. -I am happier than you are, he said. We have committed many errors and -many sins. A woman brought sin into the world. For a woman who was no -better than she should be, Helen, the runaway wife of Menelaus, ten years -the Greeks made war on Troy. A faithless wife first brought the strangers -to our shore here, MacMurrough's wife and her leman, O'Rourke, prince of -Breffni. A woman too brought Parnell low. Many errors, many failures but -not the one sin. I am a struggler now at the end of my days. But I will -fight for the right till the end. -FOR ULSTER WILL FIGHT -AND ULSTER WILL BE RIGHT. -Stephen raised the sheets in his hand. -Well, sir, he began ... -I foresee, Mr Deasy said, that you will not remain here very long at -this work. You were not born to be a teacher, I think. Perhaps I am -wrong. -A learner rather, Stephen said. -And here what will you learn more? -Mr Deasy shook his head. -Who knows? he said. To learn one must be humble. But life is the great -teacher. -Stephen rustled the sheets again. -As regards these, he began. -Yes, Mr Deasy said. You have two copies there. If you can have them -published at once. -TELEGRAPH. IRISH HOMESTEAD. -I will try, Stephen said, and let you know tomorrow. I know two editors -slightly. -That will do, Mr Deasy said briskly. I wrote last night to Mr Field, -M.P. There is a meeting of the cattletraders' association today at the -City Arms hotel. I asked him to lay my letter before the meeting. You see -if you can get it into your two papers. What are they? -THE EVENING TELEGRAPH ... -That will do, Mr Deasy said. There is no time to lose. Now I have to -answer that letter from my cousin. -Good morning, sir, Stephen said, putting the sheets in his pocket. -Thank you. -Not at all, Mr Deasy said as he searched the papers on his desk. I like -to break a lance with you, old as I am. -Good morning, sir, Stephen said again, bowing to his bent back. -He went out by the open porch and down the gravel path under the -trees, hearing the cries of voices and crack of sticks from the playfield. -The lions couchant on the pillars as he passed out through the gate -toothless terrors. Still I will help him in his fight. Mulligan will dub -me a new name the bullockbefriending bard. -Mr Dedalus -Running after me. No more letters, I hope. -Just one moment. -Yes, sir, Stephen said, turning back at the gate. -Mr Deasy halted, breathing hard and swallowing his breath. -I just wanted to say, he said. Ireland, they say, has the honour of -being the only country which never persecuted the jews. Do you know that? -No. And do you know why? -He frowned sternly on the bright air. -Why, sir? Stephen asked, beginning to smile. -Because she never let them in, Mr Deasy said solemnly. -A coughball of laughter leaped from his throat dragging after it a -rattling chain of phlegm. He turned back quickly, coughing, laughing, his -lifted arms waving to the air. -She never let them in, he cried again through his laughter as he -stamped on gaitered feet over the gravel of the path. That's why. -On his wise shoulders through the checkerwork of leaves the sun flung -spangles, dancing coins. -Ineluctable modality of the visible at least that if no more, thought -through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and -seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust -coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds in bodies. Then he -was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his -sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, MAESTRO -DI COLOR CHE SANNO. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, -adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if -not a door. Shut your eyes and see. -Stephen closed his eyes to hear his boots crush crackling wrack and -shells. You are walking through it howsomever. I am, a stride at a time. A -very short space of time through very short times of space. Five, six the -NACHEINANDER. Exactly and that is the ineluctable modality of the -audible. Open your eyes. No. Jesus If I fell over a cliff that beetles -o'er his base, fell through the NEBENEINANDER ineluctably I am getting on -nicely in the dark. My ash sword hangs at my side. Tap with it they do. -My two feet in his boots are at the ends of his legs, NEBENEINANDER. -Sounds solid made by the mallet of LOS DEMIURGOS. Am I walking into -eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea -money. Dominie Deasy kens them a'. -WON'T YOU COME TO SANDYMOUNT, -MADELINE THE MARE? -Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs -marching. No, agallop DELINE THE MARE. -Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I -open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. BASTA I will see if I can -see. -See now. There all the time without you and ever shall be, world -without end. -They came down the steps from Leahy's terrace prudently, -FRAUENZIMMER and down the shelving shore flabbily, their splayed feet -sinking in the silted sand. Like me, like Algy, coming down to our mighty -mother. Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the other's gamp -poked in the beach. From the liberties, out for the day. Mrs Florence -MacCabe, relict of the late Patk MacCabe, deeply lamented, of Bride -Street. One of her sisterhood lugged me squealing into life. Creation from -nothing. What has she in the bag? A misbirth with a trailing navelcord, -hushed in ruddy wool. The cords of all link back, strandentwining cable of -all flesh. That is why mystic monks. Will you be as gods? Gaze in your -OMPHALOS. Hello Kinch here. Put me on to Edenville. Aleph, alpha nought, -nought, one. -Spouse and helpmate of Adam Kadmon Heva, naked Eve. She had -no navel. Gaze. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a buckler of taut -vellum, no, whiteheaped corn, orient and immortal, standing from -everlasting to everlasting. Womb of sin. -Wombed in sin darkness I was too, made not begotten. By them, the -man with my voice and my eyes and a ghostwoman with ashes on her -breath. They clasped and sundered, did the coupler's will. From before the -ages He willed me and now may not will me away or ever. A LEX ETERNA -stays about Him. Is that then the divine substance wherein Father and Son -are consubstantial? Where is poor dear Arius to try conclusions? Warring -his life long upon the contransmagnificandjewbangtantiality. Illstarred -heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last euthanasia. With -beaded mitre and with crozier, stalled upon his throne, widower of a -widowed see, with upstiffed omophorion, with clotted hinderparts. -Airs romped round him, nipping and eager airs. They are coming, -waves. The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the steeds -of Mananaan. -I mustn't forget his letter for the press. And after? The Ship, half -twelve. By the way go easy with that money like a good young imbecile. -Yes, I must. -His pace slackened. Here. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not? My -consubstantial father's voice. Did you see anything of your artist brother -Stephen lately? No? Sure he's not down in Strasburg terrace with his aunt -Sally? Couldn't he fly a bit higher than that, eh? And and and and tell -us, Stephen, how is uncle Si? O, weeping God, the things I married into -De boys up in de hayloft. The drunken little costdrawer and his brother, -the cornet player. Highly respectable gondoliers And skeweyed Walter -sirring his father, no less Sir. Yes, sir. No, sir. Jesus wept and no -wonder, by Christ -I pull the wheezy bell of their shuttered cottage and wait. They take -me for a dun, peer out from a coign of vantage. -It's Stephen, sir. -Let him in. Let Stephen in. -A bolt drawn back and Walter welcomes me. -We thought you were someone else. -In his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over -the hillock of his knees a sturdy forearm. Cleanchested. He has washed the -upper moiety. -Morrow, nephew. -He lays aside the lapboard whereon he drafts his bills of costs for the -eyes of master Goff and master Shapland Tandy, filing consents and -common searches and a writ of DUCES TECUM. A bogoak frame over his bald -head Wilde's REQUIESCAT. The drone of his misleading whistle brings -Walter back. -Yes, sir? -Malt for Richie and Stephen, tell mother. Where is she? -Bathing Crissie, sir. -Papa's little bedpal. Lump of love. -No, uncle Richie ... -Call me Richie. Damn your lithia water. It lowers. Whusky -Uncle Richie, really ... -Sit down or by the law Harry I'll knock you down. -Walter squints vainly for a chair. -He has nothing to sit down on, sir. -He has nowhere to put it, you mug. Bring in our chippendale chair. -Would you like a bite of something? None of your damned lawdeedaw airs -here. The rich of a rasher fried with a herring? Sure? So much the better. -We have nothing in the house but backache pills. -ALL'ERTA -He drones bars of Ferrando's ARIA DI SORTITA. The grandest number, -Stephen, in the whole opera. Listen. -His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with rushes of the air, -his fists bigdrumming on his padded knees. -This wind is sweeter. -Houses of decay, mine, his and all. You told the Clongowes gentry -you had an uncle a judge and an uncle a general in the army. Come out of -them, Stephen. Beauty is not there. Nor in the stagnant bay of Marsh's -library where you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. For -whom? The hundredheaded rabble of the cathedral close. A hater of his -kind ran from them to the wood of madness, his mane foaming in the -moon, his eyeballs stars. Houyhnhnm, horsenostrilled. The oval equine -faces, Temple, Buck Mulligan, Foxy Campbell, Lanternjaws. Abbas father, -furious dean, what offence laid fire to their brains? Paff DESCENDE, -CALVE, UT NE AMPLIUS DECALVERIS. A garland of grey hair on his comminated -head see him me clambering down to the footpace DESCENDE, clutching a -monstrance, basiliskeyed. Get down, baldpoll A choir gives back menace -and echo, assisting about the altar's horns, the snorted Latin of -jackpriests moving burly in their albs, tonsured and oiled and gelded, fat -with the fat of kidneys of wheat. -And at the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it. -Dringdring And two streets off another locking it into a pyx. -Dringadring And in a ladychapel another taking housel all to his own -cheek. Dringdring Down, up, forward, back. Dan Occam thought of that, -invincible doctor. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his -brain. Bringing his host down and kneeling he heard twine with his second -bell the first bell in the transept he is lifting his and, rising, heard -now I am lifting their two bells he is kneeling twang in diphthong. -Cousin Stephen, you will never be a saint. Isle of saints. You were -awfully holy, weren't you? You prayed to the Blessed Virgin that you might -not have a red nose. You prayed to the devil in Serpentine avenue that the -fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the wet -street. O SI, CERTO Sell your soul for that, do, dyed rags pinned round a -squaw. More tell me, more still On the top of the Howth tram alone -crying to the rain Naked women NAKED WOMEN What about that, eh? -What about what? What else were they invented for? -Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? I was -young. You bowed to yourself in the mirror, stepping forward to applause -earnestly, striking face. Hurray for the Goddamned idiot Hray Noone -saw tell noone. Books you were going to write with letters for titles. -Have you read his F? O yes, but I prefer Q. Yes, but W is wonderful. -O yes, W. Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, deeply -deep, copies to be sent if you died to all the great libraries of the -world, including Alexandria? Someone was to read them there after a few -thousand years, a mahamanvantara. Pico della Mirandola like. Ay, very like -a whale. When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels -that one is at one with one who once ... -The grainy sand had gone from under his feet. His boots trod again a -damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the -unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by the shipworm, lost Armada. -Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward -sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden -of man's ashes. He coasted them, walking warily. A porterbottle stood up, -stogged to its waist, in the cakey sand dough. A sentinel isle of -dreadful thirst. Broken hoops on the shore at the land a maze of dark -cunning nets farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the higher beach -a dryingline with two crucified shirts. Ringsend wigwams of brown -steersmen and master mariners. Human shells. -He halted. I have passed the way to aunt Sara's. Am I not going -there? Seems not. Noone about. He turned northeast and crossed the -firmer sand towards the Pigeonhouse. -QUI VOUS A MIS DANS CETTE FICHUE POSITION? -C'EST LE PIGEON, JOSEPH. -Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the bar -MacMahon. Son of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris. My father's a bird, -he lapped the sweet LAIT CHAUD with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. -Lap, LAPIN. He hopes to win in the GROS LOTS. About the nature of women he -read in Michelet. But he must send me LA VIE DE JESUS by M. Leo Taxil. -Lent it to his friend. -C'EST TORDANT, VOUS SAVEZ. MOI, JE SUIS SOCIALISTE. JE NE CROIS PAS EN -L'EXISTENCE DE DIEU. FAUT PAS LE DIRE A MON PRE. -IL CROIT? -MON PERE, OUI. -SCHLUSS. He laps. -My Latin quarter hat. God, we simply must dress the character. I -want puce gloves. You were a student, weren't you? Of what in the other -devil's name? Paysayenn. P. C. N., you know PHYSIQUES, CHIMIQUES ET -NATURELLES. Aha. Eating your groatsworth of MOU EN CIVET, fleshpots of -Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. Just say in the most natural tone -when I was in Paris BOUL' MICH', I used to. Yes, used to carry punched -tickets to prove an alibi if they arrested you for murder somewhere. -Justice. On the night of the seventeenth of February the prisoner was -seen by two witnesses. Other fellow did it other me. Hat, tie, overcoat, -nose. LUI, C'EST MOI. You seem to have enjoyed yourself. -Proudly walking. Whom were you trying to walk like? Forget a -dispossessed. With mother's money order, eight shillings, the banging door -of the post office slammed in your face by the usher. Hunger toothache. -ENCORE DEUX MINUTES. Look clock. Must get. FERME. Hired dog Shoot him -to bloody bits with a bang shotgun, bits man spattered walls all brass -buttons. Bits all khrrrrklak in place clack back. Not hurt? O, that's all -right. Shake hands. See what I meant, see? O, that's all right. Shake a -shake. O, that's all only all right. -You were going to do wonders, what? Missionary to Europe after -fiery Columbanus. Fiacre and Scotus on their creepystools in heaven spilt -from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing EUGE EUGE Pretending to speak -broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the -slimy pier at Newhaven. COMMENT? Rich booty you brought back LE TUTU, -five tattered numbers of PANTALON BLANC ET CULOTTE ROUGE a blue -French telegram, curiosity to show -Mother dying come home father. -The aunt thinks you killed your mother. That's why she won't. -THEN HERE'S A HEALTH TO MULLIGAN'S AUNT -AND I'LL TELL YOU THE REASON WHY. -SHE ALWAYS KEPT THINGS DECENT IN -THE HANNIGAN FAMILEYE. -His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the sand furrows, -along by the boulders of the south wall. He stared at them proudly, piled -stone mammoth skulls. Gold light on sea, on sand, on boulders. The sun is -there, the slender trees, the lemon houses. -Paris rawly waking, crude sunlight on her lemon streets. Moist pith of -farls of bread, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air. -Belluomo rises from the bed of his wife's lover's wife, the kerchiefed -housewife is astir, a saucer of acetic acid in her hand. In Rodot's Yvonne -and Madeleine newmake their tumbled beauties, shattering with gold teeth -CHAUSSONS of pastry, their mouths yellowed with the PUS of FLAN BRETON. -Faces of Paris men go by, their wellpleased pleasers, curled -conquistadores. -Noon slumbers. Kevin Egan rolls gunpowder cigarettes through -fingers smeared with printer's ink, sipping his green fairy as Patrice his -white. About us gobblers fork spiced beans down their gullets. UN DEMI -SETIER A jet of coffee steam from the burnished caldron. She serves me at -his beck. IL EST IRLANDAIS. HOLLANDAIS? NON FROMAGE. DEUX IRLANDAIS, NOUS, -IRLANDE, VOUS SAVEZ AH, OUI She thought you wanted a cheese HOLLANDAIS. -Your postprandial, do you know that word? Postprandial. There was a -fellow I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to call it his -postprandial. Well SLAINTE Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined -breaths and grumbling gorges. His breath hangs over our saucestained -plates, the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips. Of Ireland, the -Dalcassians, of hopes, conspiracies, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, -pimander, good shepherd of men. To yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes -our common cause. You're your father's son. I know the voice. His fustian -shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his secrets. M. -Drumont, famous journalist, Drumont, know what he called queen -Victoria? Old hag with the yellow teeth. VIEILLE OGRESSE with the DENTS -JAUNES. Maud Gonne, beautiful woman, LA PATRIE, M. Millevoye, Felix -Faure, know how he died? Licentious men. The froeken, BONNE A TOUT FAIRE, -who rubs male nakedness in the bath at Upsala. MOI FAIRE, she said, TOUS -LES MESSIEURS. Not this MONSIEUR, I said. Most licentious custom. Bath a -most private thing. I wouldn't let my brother, not even my own brother, -most lascivious thing. Green eyes, I see you. Fang, I feel. Lascivious -people. -The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear. Loose -tobaccoshreds catch fire a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. Raw -facebones under his peep of day boy's hat. How the head centre got away, -authentic version. Got up as a young bride, man, veil, orangeblossoms, -drove out the road to Malahide. Did, faith. Of lost leaders, the betrayed, -wild escapes. Disguises, clutched at, gone, not here. -Spurned lover. I was a strapping young gossoon at that time, I tell -you. I'll show you my likeness one day. I was, faith. Lover, for her love -he prowled with colonel Richard Burke, tanist of his sept, under the walls -of Clerkenwell and, crouching, saw a flame of vengeance hurl them upward -in the fog. Shattered glass and toppling masonry. In gay Paree he hides, -Egan of Paris, unsought by any save by me. Making his day's stations, the -dingy printingcase, his three taverns, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short -night in, rue de la Goutted'Or, damascened with flyblown faces of the -gone. Loveless, landless, wifeless. She is quite nicey comfy without her -outcast man, madame in rue GitleCoeur, canary and two buck lodgers. -Peachy cheeks, a zebra skirt, frisky as a young thing's. Spurned and -undespairing. Tell Pat you saw me, won't you? I wanted to get poor Pat a -job one time. MON FILS, soldier of France. I taught him to sing THE BOYS -OF KILKENNY ARE STOUT ROARING BLADES. Know that old lay? I taught Patrice -that. Old Kilkenny saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on the Nore. Goes -like this. O, O. He takes me, Napper Tandy, by the hand. -O, O THE BOYS OF -KILKENNY ... -Weak wasting hand on mine. They have forgotten Kevin Egan, not he -them. Remembering thee, O Sion. -He had come nearer the edge of the sea and wet sand slapped his -boots. The new air greeted him, harping in wild nerves, wind of wild air -of seeds of brightness. Here, I am not walking out to the Kish lightship, -am I? He stood suddenly, his feet beginning to sink slowly in the quaking -soil. Turn back. -Turning, he scanned the shore south, his feet sinking again slowly in -new sockets. The cold domed room of the tower waits. Through the -barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet are -sinking, creeping duskward over the dial floor. Blue dusk, nightfall, deep -blue night. In the darkness of the dome they wait, their pushedback -chairs, my obelisk valise, around a board of abandoned platters. Who to -clear it? He has the key. I will not sleep there when this night comes. -A shut door of a silent tower, entombing theirblind bodies, the -panthersahib and his pointer. Call no answer. He lifted his feet up from -the suck and turned back by the mole of boulders. Take all, keep all. My -soul walks with me, form of forms. So in the moon's midwatches I pace the -path above the rocks, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore's tempting -flood. -The flood is following me. I can watch it flow past from here. Get -back then by the Poolbeg road to the strand there. He climbed over the -sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on a stool of rock, resting his ashplant -in a grike. -A bloated carcass of a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. Before him the -gunwale of a boat, sunk in sand. UN COCHE ENSABLE Louis Veuillot called -Gautier's prose. These heavy sands are language tide and wind have silted -here. And these, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a warren of weasel rats. -Hide gold there. Try it. You have some. Sands and stones. Heavy of the -past. Sir Lout's toys. Mind you don't get one bang on the ear. I'm the -bloody well gigant rolls all them bloody well boulders, bones for my -steppingstones. Feefawfum. I zmellz de bloodz odz an Iridzman. -A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the sweep of sand. -Lord, is he going to attack me? Respect his liberty. You will not be -master of others or their slave. I have my stick. Sit tight. From farther -away, walking shoreward across from the crested tide, figures, two. The -two maries. They have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes. Peekaboo. I see -you. No, the dog. He is running back to them. Who? -Galleys of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in quest of prey, their -bloodbeaked prows riding low on a molten pewter surf. Dane vikings, torcs -of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of -gold. A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, -hobbling in the shallows. Then from the starving cagework city a horde of -jerkined dwarfs, my people, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, -hacking in green blubbery whalemeat. Famine, plague and slaughters. Their -blood is in me, their lusts my waves. I moved among them on the frozen -Liffey, that I, a changeling, among the spluttering resin fires. I spoke -to noone none to me. -The dog's bark ran towards him, stopped, ran back. Dog of my -enemy. I just simply stood pale, silent, bayed about. TERRIBILIA MEDITANS. -A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. For that are you -pining, the bark of their applause? Pretenders live their lives. The -Bruce's brother, Thomas Fitzgerald, silken knight, Perkin Warbeck, York's -false scion, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a day, and -Lambert Simnel, with a tail of nans and sutlers, a scullion crowned. All -kings' sons. Paradise of pretenders then and now. He saved men from -drowning and you shake at a cur's yelping. But the courtiers who mocked -Guido in Or san Michele were in their own house. House of ... We don't -want any of your medieval abstrusiosities. Would you do what he did? A -boat would be near, a lifebuoy. NATURLICH, put there for you. Would you or -would you not? The man that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. -They are waiting for him now. The truth, spit it out. I would want to. -I would try. I am not a strong swimmer. Water cold soft. When I put my -face into it in the basin at Clongowes. Can't see Who's behind me? Out -quickly, quickly Do you see the tide flowing quickly in on all sides, -sheeting the lows of sand quickly, shellcocoacoloured? If I had land under -my feet. I want his life still to be his, mine to be mine. A drowning man. -His human eyes scream to me out of horror of his death. I ... With him -together down ... I could not save her. Waters bitter death lost. -A woman and a man. I see her skirties. Pinned up, I bet. -Their dog ambled about a bank of dwindling sand, trotting, sniffing -on all sides. Looking for something lost in a past life. Suddenly he made -off like a bounding hare, ears flung back, chasing the shadow of a -lowskimming gull. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. He -turned, bounded back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. On a field -tenney a buck, trippant, proper, unattired. At the lacefringe of the tide -he halted with stiff forehoofs, seawardpointed ears. His snout lifted -barked at the wavenoise, herds of seamorse. They serpented towards his -feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, -from far, from farther out, waves and waves. -Cocklepickers. They waded a little way in the water and, stooping, -soused their bags and, lifting them again, waded out. The dog yelped -running to them, reared up and pawed them, dropping on all fours, again -reared up at them with mute bearish fawning. Unheeded he kept by them as -they came towards the drier sand, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from -his jaws. His speckled body ambled ahead of them and then loped off at a -calf's gallop. The carcass lay on his path. He stopped, sniffed, stalked -round it, brother, nosing closer, went round it, sniffling rapidly like a -dog all over the dead dog's bedraggled fell. Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on -the ground, moves to one great goal. Ah, poor dogsbody Here lies poor -dogsbody's body. -Tatters Out of that, you mongrel -The cry brought him skulking back to his master and a blunt bootless -kick sent him unscathed across a spit of sand, crouched in flight. He -slunk back in a curve. Doesn't see me. Along by the edge of the mole he -lolloped, dawdled, smelt a rock. and from under a cocked hindleg pissed -against it. He trotted forward and, lifting again his hindleg, pissed -quick short at an unsmelt rock. The simple pleasures of the poor. His -hindpaws then scattered the sand then his forepaws dabbled and delved. -Something he buried there, his grandmother. He rooted in the sand, -dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the air, scraped up the sand -again with a fury of his claws, soon ceasing, a pard, a panther, got in -spousebreach, vulturing the dead. -After he woke me last night same dream or was it? Wait. Open -hallway. Street of harlots. Remember. Haroun al Raschid. I am almosting -it. That man led me, spoke. I was not afraid. The melon he had he held -against my face. Smiled creamfruit smell. That was the rule, said. In. -Come. Red carpet spread. You will see who. -Shouldering their bags they trudged, the red Egyptians. His blued -feet out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, a dull brick -muffler strangling his unshaven neck. With woman steps she followed the -ruffian and his strolling mort. Spoils slung at her back. Loose sand and -shellgrit crusted her bare feet. About her windraw face hair trailed. -Behind her lord, his helpmate, bing awast to Romeville. When night hides -her body's flaws calling under her brown shawl from an archway where dogs -have mired. Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O'Loughlin's of -Blackpitts. Buss her, wap in rogues' rum lingo, for, O, my dimber wapping -dell A shefiend's whiteness under her rancid rags. Fumbally's lane that -night the tanyard smells. -WHITE THY FAMBLES, RED THY GAN -AND THY QUARRONS DAINTY IS. -COUCH A HOGSHEAD WITH ME THEN. -IN THE DARKMANS CLIP AND KISS. -Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, FRATE PORCOSPINO. -Unfallen Adam rode and not rutted. Call away let him THY QUARRONS DAINTY -IS. Language no whit worse than his. Monkwords, marybeads jabber on -their girdles roguewords, tough nuggets patter in their pockets. -Passing now. -A side eye at my Hamlet hat. If I were suddenly naked here as I sit? I -am not. Across the sands of all the world, followed by the sun's flaming -sword, to the west, trekking to evening lands. She trudges, schlepps, -trains, drags, trascines her load. A tide westering, moondrawn, in her -wake. Tides, myriadislanded, within her, blood not mine, OINOPA PONTON, -a winedark sea. Behold the handmaid of the moon. In sleep the wet sign -calls her hour, bids her rise. Bridebed, childbed, bed of death, -ghostcandled. OMNIS CARO AD TE VENIET. He comes, pale vampire, through -storm his eyes, his bat sails bloodying the sea, mouth to her mouth's -kiss. -Here. Put a pin in that chap, will you? My tablets. Mouth to her kiss. -No. Must be two of em. Glue em well. Mouth to her mouth's kiss. -His lips lipped and mouthed fleshless lips of air mouth to her -moomb. Oomb, allwombing tomb. His mouth moulded issuing breath, -unspeeched ooeeehah roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring -wayawayawayawayaway. Paper. The banknotes, blast them. Old Deasy's -letter. Here. Thanking you for the hospitality tear the blank end off. -Turning his back to the sun he bent over far to a table of rock and -scribbled words. That's twice I forgot to take slips from the library -counter. -His shadow lay over the rocks as he bent, ending. Why not endless till -the farthest star? Darkly they are there behind this light, darkness -shining in the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Me sits there with -his augur's rod of ash, in borrowed sandals, by day beside a livid sea, -unbeheld, in violet night walking beneath a reign of uncouth stars. -I throw this ended shadow from me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. -Endless, would it be mine, form of my form? Who watches me here? Who ever -anywhere will read these written words? Signs on a white field. Somewhere -to someone in your flutiest voice. The good bishop of Cloyne took the veil -of the temple out of his shovel hat veil of space with coloured emblems -hatched on its field. Hold hard. Coloured on a flat yes, that's right. -Flat I see, then think distance, near, far, flat I see, east, back. Ah, -see now Falls back suddenly, frozen in stereoscope. Click does the trick. -You find my words dark. Darkness is in our souls do you not think? -Flutier. Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, -a woman to her lover clinging, the more the more. -She trusts me, her hand gentle, the longlashed eyes. Now where the blue -hell am I bringing her beyond the veil? Into the ineluctable modality -of the ineluctable visuality. She, she, she. What she? The virgin -at Hodges Figgis' window on Monday looking in for one of the alphabet -books you were going to write. Keen glance you gave her. Wrist through -the braided jesse of her sunshade. She lives in Leeson park with -a grief and kickshaws, a lady of letters. Talk that to someone else, -Stevie a pickmeup. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders -and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. Talk about apple dumplings, -PIUTTOSTO. Where are your wits? -Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch -me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. -Sad too. Touch, touch me. -He lay back at full stretch over the sharp rocks, cramming the -scribbled note and pencil into a pock his hat. His hat down on his eyes. -That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. -ET VIDIT DEUS. ET ERANT VALDE BONA. Alo BONJOUR. Welcome as the flowers -in May. Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the -southing sun. I am caught in this burning scene. Pan's hour, the faunal -noon. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the -tawny waters leaves lie wide. Pain is far. -AND NO MORE TURN ASIDE AND BROOD. -His gaze brooded on his broadtoed boots, a buck's castoffs, -NEBENEINANDER. He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's -foot had nested warm. The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I -dislove. But you were delighted when Esther Osvalt's shoe went on you -girl I knew in Paris. TIENS, QUEL PETIT PIED Staunch friend, a brother -soul Wilde's love that dare not speak its name. His arm Cranly's arm. He -now will leave me. And the blame? As I am. As I am. All or not at all. -In long lassoes from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering -greengoldenly lagoons of sand, rising, flowing. My ashplant will float -away. I shall wait. No, they will pass on, passing, chafing against the -low rocks, swirling, passing. Better get this job over quick. Listen a -fourworded wavespeech seesoo, hrss, rsseeiss, ooos. Vehement breath of -waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks. In cups of rocks it slops -flop, slop, slap bounded in barrels. And, spent, its speech ceases. It -flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling. -Under the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly -and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in whispering water -swaying and upturning coy silver fronds. Day by day night by night -lifted, flooded and let fall. Lord, they are weary and, whispered to, -they sigh. Saint Ambrose heard it, sigh of leaves and waves, waiting, -awaiting the fullness of their times, DIEBUS AC NOCTIBUS INIURIAS PATIENS -INGEMISCIT. To no end gathered vainly then released, forthflowing, -wending back loom of the moon. Weary too in sight of lovers, lascivious -men, a naked woman shining in her courts, she draws a toil of waters. -Five fathoms out there. Full fathom five thy father lies. At one, he -said. Found drowned. High water at Dublin bar. Driving before it a loose -drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. A corpse rising -saltwhite from the undertow, bobbing a pace a pace a porpoise landward. -There he is. Hook it quick. Pull. Sunk though he be beneath the watery -floor. We have him. Easy now. -Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. A quiver of minnows, fat of a -spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his buttoned trouserfly. God -becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes featherbed -mountain. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous -offal from all dead. Hauled stark over the gunwale he breathes upward the -stench of his green grave, his leprous nosehole snoring to the sun. -A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue. Seadeath, mildest of all deaths -known to man. Old Father Ocean. PRIX DE PARIS beware of imitations. Just -you give it a fair trial. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. -Come. I thirst. Clouding over. No black clouds anywhere, are there? -Thunderstorm. Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the intellect, -LUCIFER, DICO, QUI NESCIT OCCASUM. No. My cockle hat and staff and hismy -sandal shoon. Where? To evening lands. Evening will find itself. -He took the hilt of his ashplant, lunging with it softly, dallying still. -Yes, evening will find itself in me, without me. All days make their end. -By the way next when is it Tuesday will be the longest day. Of all the -glad new year, mother, the rum tum tiddledy tum. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman -poet. GIA. For the old hag with the yellow teeth. And Monsieur Drumont, -gentleman journalist. GIA. My teeth are very bad. Why, I wonder. Feel. -That one is going too. Shells. Ought I go to a dentist, I wonder, with -that money? That one. This. Toothless Kinch, the superman. Why is that, I -wonder, or does it mean something perhaps? -My handkerchief. He threw it. I remember. Did I not take it up? -His hand groped vainly in his pockets. No, I didn't. Better buy one. -He laid the dry snot picked from his nostril on a ledge of rock, -carefully. For the rest let look who will. -Behind. Perhaps there is someone. -He turned his face over a shoulder, rere regardant. Moving through -the air high spars of a threemaster, her sails brailed up on the -crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a silent ship. -II -Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He -liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, -liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Most of all he -liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of -faintly scented urine. -Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting -her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the -kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel -a bit peckish. -The coals were reddening. -Another slice of bread and butter three, four right. She didn't like -her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the -hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its -spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly -round a leg of the table with tail on high. -Mkgnao -O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire. -The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the -table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. Prr. Scratch my -head. Prr. -Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Clean to see -the gloss of her sleek hide, the white button under the butt of her tail, -the green flashing eyes. He bent down to her, his hands on his knees. -Milk for the pussens, he said. -Mrkgnao the cat cried. -They call them stupid. They understand what we say better than we -understand them. She understands all she wants to. Vindictive too. Cruel. -Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it. Wonder what I -look like to her. Height of a tower? No, she can jump me. -Afraid of the chickens she is, he said mockingly. Afraid of the -chookchooks. I never saw such a stupid pussens as the pussens. -Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it. -Mrkrgnao the cat said loudly. -She blinked up out of her avid shameclosing eyes, mewing plaintively and -long, showing him her milkwhite teeth. He watched the dark eyeslits -narrowing with greed till her eyes were green stones. Then he went to the -dresser, took the jug Hanlon's milkman had just filled for him, poured -warmbubbled milk on a saucer and set it slowly on the floor. -Gurrhr she cried, running to lap. -He watched the bristles shining wirily in the weak light as she tipped -three times and licked lightly. Wonder is it true if you clip them they -can't mouse after. Why? They shine in the dark, perhaps, the tips. Or -kind of feelers in the dark, perhaps. -He listened to her licking lap. Ham and eggs, no. No good eggs with this -drouth. Want pure fresh water. Thursday not a good day either for a -mutton kidney at Buckley's. Fried with butter, a shake of pepper. Better -a pork kidney at Dlugacz's. While the kettle is boiling. She lapped -slower, then licking the saucer clean. Why are their tongues so rough? To -lap better, all porous holes. Nothing she can eat? He glanced round him. -No. -On quietly creaky boots he went up the staircase to the hall, paused by -the bedroom door. She might like something tasty. Thin bread and butter -she likes in the morning. Still perhaps once in a way. -He said softly in the bare hall -I'm going round the corner. Be back in a minute. -And when he had heard his voice say it he added -You don't want anything for breakfast? -A sleepy soft grunt answered -Mn. -No. She didn't want anything. He heard then a warm heavy sigh, softer, as -she turned over and the loose brass quoits of the bedstead jingled. Must -get those settled really. Pity. All the way from Gibraltar. Forgotten any -little Spanish she knew. Wonder what her father gave for it. Old style. -Ah yes of course. Bought it at the governor's auction. Got a short -knock. Hard as nails at a bargain, old Tweedy. Yes, sir. At Plevna that -was. I rose from the ranks, sir, and I'm proud of it. Still he had brains -enough to make that corner in stamps. Now that was farseeing. -His hand took his hat from the peg over his initialled heavy overcoat and -his lost property office secondhand waterproof. Stamps stickyback -pictures. Daresay lots of officers are in the swim too. Course they do. -The sweated legend in the crown of his hat told him mutely Plasto's high -grade ha. He peeped quickly inside the leather headband. White slip of -paper. Quite safe. -On the doorstep he felt in his hip pocket for the latchkey. Not there. In -the trousers I left off. Must get it. Potato I have. Creaky wardrobe. No -use disturbing her. She turned over sleepily that time. He pulled the -halldoor to after him very quietly, more, till the footleaf dropped -gently over the threshold, a limp lid. Looked shut. All right till I come -back anyhow. -He crossed to the bright side, avoiding the loose cellarflap of number -seventyfive. The sun was nearing the steeple of George's church. Be a -warm day I fancy. Specially in these black clothes feel it more. Black -conducts, reflects, refracts is it?, the heat. But I couldn't go in -that light suit. Make a picnic of it. His eyelids sank quietly often as -he walked in happy warmth. Boland's breadvan delivering with trays our -daily but she prefers yesterday's loaves turnovers crisp crowns hot. -Makes you feel young. Somewhere in the east early morning set off at -dawn. Travel round in front of the sun, steal a day's march on him. Keep -it up for ever never grow a day older technically. Walk along a strand, -strange land, come to a city gate, sentry there, old ranker too, old -Tweedy's big moustaches, leaning on a long kind of a spear. Wander -through awned streets. Turbaned faces going by. Dark caves of carpet -shops, big man, Turko the terrible, seated crosslegged, smoking a coiled -pipe. Cries of sellers in the streets. Drink water scented with fennel, -sherbet. Dander along all day. Might meet a robber or two. Well, meet -him. Getting on to sundown. The shadows of the mosques among the pillars -priest with a scroll rolled up. A shiver of the trees, signal, the -evening wind. I pass on. Fading gold sky. A mother watches me from her -doorway. She calls her children home in their dark language. High wall -beyond strings twanged. Night sky, moon, violet, colour of Molly's new -garters. Strings. Listen. A girl playing one of those instruments what do -you call them dulcimers. I pass. -Probably not a bit like it really. Kind of stuff you read in the track -of the sun. Sunburst on the titlepage. He smiled, pleasing himself. What -Arthur Griffith said about the headpiece over the FREEMAN leader a -homerule sun rising up in the northwest from the laneway behind the bank -of Ireland. He prolonged his pleased smile. Ikey touch that homerule sun -rising up in the northwest. -He approached Larry O'Rourke's. From the cellar grating floated up the -flabby gush of porter. Through the open doorway the bar squirted out -whiffs of ginger, teadust, biscuitmush. Good house, however just the end -of the city traffic. For instance M'Auley's down there n. g. as -position. Of course if they ran a tramline along the North Circular from -the cattlemarket to the quays value would go up like a shot. -Baldhead over the blind. Cute old codger. No use canvassing him for an -ad. Still he knows his own business best. There he is, sure enough, my -bold Larry, leaning against the sugarbin in his shirtsleeves watching the -aproned curate swab up with mop and bucket. Simon Dedalus takes him off -to a tee with his eyes screwed up. Do you know what I'm going to tell -you? What's that, Mr O'Rourke? Do you know what? The Russians, they'd -only be an eight o'clock breakfast for the Japanese. -Stop and say a word about the funeral perhaps. Sad thing about poor -Dignam, Mr O'Rourke. -Turning into Dorset street he said freshly in greeting through the -doorway -Good day, Mr O'Rourke. -Good day to you. -Lovely weather, sir. -'Tis all that. -Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the county -Leitrim, rinsing empties and old man in the cellar. Then, lo and behold, -they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons. Then thin of the -competition. General thirst. Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without -passing a pub. Save it they can't. Off the drunks perhaps. Put down three -and carry five. What is that, a bob here and there, dribs and drabs. On -the wholesale orders perhaps. Doing a double shuffle with the town -travellers. Square it you with the boss and we'll split the job, see? -How much would that tot to off the porter in the month? Say ten barrels -of stuff. Say he got ten per cent off. O more. Fifteen. He passed Saint -Joseph's National school. Brats' clamour. Windows open. Fresh air helps -memory. Or a lilt. Ahbeesee defeegee kelomen opeecue rustyouvee -doubleyou. Boys are they? Yes. Inishturk. Inishark. Inishboffin. At their -joggerfry. Mine. Slieve Bloom. -He halted before Dlugacz's window, staring at the hanks of sausages, -polonies, black and white. Fifteen multiplied by. The figures whitened in -his mind, unsolved displeased, he let them fade. The shiny links, packed -with forcemeat, fed his gaze and he breathed in tranquilly the lukewarm -breath of cooked spicy pigs' blood. -A kidney oozed bloodgouts on the willowpatterned dish the last. He stood -by the nextdoor girl at the counter. Would she buy it too, calling the -items from a slip in her hand? Chapped washingsoda. And a pound and a -half of Denny's sausages. His eyes rested on her vigorous hips. Woods his -name is. Wonder what he does. Wife is oldish. New blood. No followers -allowed. Strong pair of arms. Whacking a carpet on the clothesline. She -does whack it, by George. The way her crooked skirt swings at each whack. -The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had snipped off with -blotchy fingers, sausagepink. Sound meat there like a stallfed heifer. -He took a page up from the pile of cut sheets the model farm at -Kinnereth on the lakeshore of Tiberias. Can become ideal winter -sanatorium. Moses Montefiore. I thought he was. Farmhouse, wall round it, -blurred cattle cropping. He held the page from him interesting read it -nearer, the title, the blurred cropping cattle, the page rustling. A -young white heifer. Those mornings in the cattlemarket, the beasts lowing -in their pens, branded sheep, flop and fall of dung, the breeders in -hobnailed boots trudging through the litter, slapping a palm on a -ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their -hands. He held the page aslant patiently, bending his senses and his -will, his soft subject gaze at rest. The crooked skirt swinging, whack by -whack by whack. -The porkbutcher snapped two sheets from the pile, wrapped up her prime -sausages and made a red grimace. -Now, my miss, he said. -She tendered a coin, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out. -Thank you, my miss. And one shilling threepence change. For you, -please? -Mr Bloom pointed quickly. To catch up and walk behind her if she went -slowly, behind her moving hams. Pleasant to see first thing in the -morning. Hurry up, damn it. Make hay while the sun shines. She stood -outside the shop in sunlight and sauntered lazily to the right. He sighed -down his nose they never understand. Sodachapped hands. Crusted toenails -too. Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. The sting of -disregard glowed to weak pleasure within his breast. For another a -constable off duty cuddling her in Eccles lane. They like them sizeable. -Prime sausage. O please, Mr Policeman, I'm lost in the wood. -Threepence, please. -His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket. -Then it fetched up three coins from his trousers' pocket and laid them on -the rubber prickles. They lay, were read quickly and quickly slid, disc -by disc, into the till. -Thank you, sir. Another time. -A speck of eager fire from foxeyes thanked him. He withdrew his gaze -after an instant. No better not another time. -Good morning, he said, moving away. -Good morning, sir. -No sign. Gone. What matter? -He walked back along Dorset street, reading gravely. Agendath Netaim -planters' company. To purchase waste sandy tracts from Turkish government -and plant with eucalyptus trees. Excellent for shade, fuel and -construction. Orangegroves and immense melonfields north of Jaffa. You -pay eighty marks and they plant a dunam of land for you with olives, -oranges, almonds or citrons. Olives cheaper oranges need artificial -irrigation. Every year you get a sending of the crop. Your name entered -for life as owner in the book of the union. Can pay ten down and the -balance in yearly instalments. Bleibtreustrasse , Berlin, W. . -Nothing doing. Still an idea behind it. -He looked at the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Silverpowdered -olivetrees. Quiet long days pruning, ripening. Olives are packed in -jars, eh? I have a few left from Andrews. Molly spitting them out. Knows -the taste of them now. Oranges in tissue paper packed in crates. Citrons -too. Wonder is poor Citron still in Saint Kevin's parade. And Mastiansky -with the old cither. Pleasant evenings we had then. Molly in Citron's -basketchair. Nice to hold, cool waxen fruit, hold in the hand, lift it to -the nostrils and smell the perfume. Like that, heavy, sweet, wild -perfume. Always the same, year after year. They fetched high prices too, -Moisel told me. Arbutus place Pleasants street pleasant old times. Must -be without a flaw, he said. Coming all that way Spain, Gibraltar, -Mediterranean, the Levant. Crates lined up on the quayside at Jaffa, chap -ticking them off in a book, navvies handling them barefoot in soiled -dungarees. There's whatdoyoucallhim out of. How do you? Doesn't see. Chap -you know just to salute bit of a bore. His back is like that Norwegian -captain's. Wonder if I'll meet him today. Watering cart. To provoke the -rain. On earth as it is in heaven. -A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly. Grey. Far. -No, not like that. A barren land, bare waste. Vulcanic lake, the dead -sea no fish, weedless, sunk deep in the earth. No wind could lift those -waves, grey metal, poisonous foggy waters. Brimstone they called it -raining down the cities of the plain Sodom, Gomorrah, Edom. All dead -names. A dead sea in a dead land, grey and old. Old now. It bore the -oldest, the first race. A bent hag crossed from Cassidy's, clutching a -naggin bottle by the neck. The oldest people. Wandered far away over all -the earth, captivity to captivity, multiplying, dying, being born -everywhere. It lay there now. Now it could bear no more. Dead an old -woman's the grey sunken cunt of the world. -Desolation. -Grey horror seared his flesh. Folding the page into his pocket he turned -into Eccles street, hurrying homeward. Cold oils slid along his veins, -chilling his blood age crusting him with a salt cloak. Well, I am here -now. Yes, I am here now. Morning mouth bad images. Got up wrong side of -the bed. Must begin again those Sandow's exercises. On the hands down. -Blotchy brown brick houses. Number eighty still unlet. Why is that? -Valuation is only twentyeight. Towers, Battersby, North, MacArthur -parlour windows plastered with bills. Plasters on a sore eye. To smell -the gentle smoke of tea, fume of the pan, sizzling butter. Be near her -ample bedwarmed flesh. Yes, yes. -Quick warm sunlight came running from Berkeley road, swiftly, in slim -sandals, along the brightening footpath. Runs, she runs to meet me, a -girl with gold hair on the wind. -Two letters and a card lay on the hallfloor. He stooped and gathered -them. Mrs Marion Bloom. His quickened heart slowed at once. Bold hand. -Mrs Marion. -Poldy -Entering the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes and walked through warm -yellow twilight towards her tousled head. -Who are the letters for? -He looked at them. Mullingar. Milly. -A letter for me from Milly, he said carefully, and a card to you. And a -letter for you. -He laid her card and letter on the twill bedspread near the curve of her -knees. -Do you want the blind up? -Letting the blind up by gentle tugs halfway his backward eye saw her -glance at the letter and tuck it under her pillow. -That do? he asked, turning. -She was reading the card, propped on her elbow. -She got the things, she said. -He waited till she had laid the card aside and curled herself back slowly -with a snug sigh. -Hurry up with that tea, she said. I'm parched. -The kettle is boiling, he said. -But he delayed to clear the chair her striped petticoat, tossed soiled -linen and lifted all in an armful on to the foot of the bed. -As he went down the kitchen stairs she called -Poldy -What? -Scald the teapot. -On the boil sure enough a plume of steam from the spout. He scalded and -rinsed out the teapot and put in four full spoons of tea, tilting the -kettle then to let the water flow in. Having set it to draw he took off -the kettle, crushed the pan flat on the live coals and watched the lump -of butter slide and melt. While he unwrapped the kidney the cat mewed -hungrily against him. Give her too much meat she won't mouse. Say they -won't eat pork. Kosher. Here. He let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her -and dropped the kidney amid the sizzling butter sauce. Pepper. He -sprinkled it through his fingers ringwise from the chipped eggcup. -Then he slit open his letter, glancing down the page and over. Thanks -new tam Mr Coghlan lough Owel picnic young student Blazes Boylan's -seaside girls. -The tea was drawn. He filled his own moustachecup, sham crown -Derby, smiling. Silly Milly's birthday gift. Only five she was then. No, -wait four. I gave her the amberoid necklace she broke. Putting pieces of -folded brown paper in the letterbox for her. He smiled, pouring. -O, MILLY BLOOM, YOU ARE MY DARLING. -YOU ARE MY LOOKINGGLASS FROM NIGHT TO MORNING. -I'D RATHER HAVE YOU WITHOUT A FARTHING -THAN KATEY KEOGH WITH HER ASS AND GARDEN. -Poor old professor Goodwin. Dreadful old case. Still he was a courteous -old chap. Oldfashioned way he used to bow Molly off the platform. And the -little mirror in his silk hat. The night Milly brought it into the -parlour. O, look what I found in professor Goodwin's hat All we laughed. -Sex breaking out even then. Pert little piece she was. -He prodded a fork into the kidney and slapped it over then fitted the -teapot on the tray. Its hump bumped as he took it up. Everything on it? -Bread and butter, four, sugar, spoon, her cream. Yes. He carried it -upstairs, his thumb hooked in the teapot handle. -Nudging the door open with his knee he carried the tray in and set it on -the chair by the bedhead. -What a time you were she said. -She set the brasses jingling as she raised herself briskly, an elbow on -the pillow. He looked calmly down on her bulk and between her large soft -bubs, sloping within her nightdress like a shegoat's udder. The warmth of -her couched body rose on the air, mingling with the fragrance of the tea -she poured. -A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the dimpled pillow. In the act -of going he stayed to straighten the bedspread. -Who was the letter from? he asked. -Bold hand. Marion. -O, Boylan, she said. He's bringing the programme. -What are you singing? -LA CI DAREM with J. C. Doyle, she said, and LOVE'S OLD SWEET SONG. -Her full lips, drinking, smiled. Rather stale smell that incense leaves -next day. Like foul flowerwater. -Would you like the window open a little? -She doubled a slice of bread into her mouth, asking -What time is the funeral? -Eleven, I think, he answered. I didn't see the paper. -Following the pointing of her finger he took up a leg of her soiled -drawers from the bed. No? Then, a twisted grey garter looped round a -stocking rumpled, shiny sole. -No that book. -Other stocking. Her petticoat. -It must have fell down, she said. -He felt here and there. VOGLIO E NON VORREI. Wonder if she pronounces -that right VOGLIO. Not in the bed. Must have slid down. He stooped and -lifted the valance. The book, fallen, sprawled against the bulge of the -orangekeyed chamberpot. -Show here, she said. I put a mark in it. There's a word I wanted to ask -you. -She swallowed a draught of tea from her cup held by nothandle and, having -wiped her fingertips smartly on the blanket, began to search the text -with the hairpin till she reached the word. -Met him what? he asked. -Here, she said. What does that mean? -He leaned downward and read near her polished thumbnail. -Metempsychosis? -Yes. Who's he when he's at home? -Metempsychosis, he said, frowning. It's Greek from the Greek. That -means the transmigration of souls. -O, rocks she said. Tell us in plain words. -He smiled, glancing askance at her mocking eyes. The same young eyes. The -first night after the charades. Dolphin's Barn. He turned over the -smudged pages. RUBY THE PRIDE OF THE RING. Hello. Illustration. Fierce -Italian with carriagewhip. Must be Ruby pride of the on the floor naked. -Sheet kindly lent. THE MONSTER MAFFEI DESISTED AND FLUNG HIS VICTIM FROM -HIM WITH AN OATH. Cruelty behind it all. Doped animals. Trapeze at -Hengler's. Had to look the other way. Mob gaping. Break your neck and -we'll break our sides. Families of them. Bone them young so they -metamspychosis. That we live after death. Our souls. That a man's soul -after he dies. Dignam's soul ... -Did you finish it? he asked. -Yes, she said. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the -first fellow all the time? -Never read it. Do you want another? -Yes. Get another of Paul de Kock's. Nice name he has. -She poured more tea into her cup, watching it flow sideways. -Must get that Capel street library book renewed or they'll write to -Kearney, my guarantor. Reincarnation that's the word. -Some people believe, he said, that we go on living in another body -after death, that we lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we -all lived before on the earth thousands of years ago or some other -planet. They say we have forgotten it. Some say they remember their past -lives. -The sluggish cream wound curdling spirals through her tea. Bette remind -her of the word metempsychosis. An example would be better. An example? -The BATH OF THE NYMPH over the bed. Given away with the Easter number of -PHOTO BITS Splendid masterpiece in art colours. Tea before you put milk -in. Not unlike her with her hair down slimmer. Three and six I gave for -the frame. She said it would look nice over the bed. Naked nymphs -Greece and for instance all the people that lived then. -He turned the pages back. -Metempsychosis, he said, is what the ancient Greeks called it. They -used to believe you could be changed into an animal or a tree, for -instance. What they called nymphs, for example. -Her spoon ceased to stir up the sugar. She gazed straight before her, -inhaling through her arched nostrils. -There's a smell of burn, she said. Did you leave anything on the fire? -The kidney he cried suddenly. -He fitted the book roughly into his inner pocket and, stubbing his toes -against the broken commode, hurried out towards the smell, stepping -hastily down the stairs with a flurried stork's legs. Pungent smoke shot -up in an angry jet from a side of the pan. By prodding a prong of the -fork under the kidney he detached it and turned it turtle on its back. -Only a little burnt. He tossed it off the pan on to a plate and let the -scanty brown gravy trickle over it. -Cup of tea now. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the loaf. He -shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to the cat. Then he put a forkful -into his mouth, chewing with discernment the toothsome pliant meat. Done -to a turn. A mouthful of tea. Then he cut away dies of bread, sopped one -in the gravy and put it in his mouth. What was that about some young -student and a picnic? He creased out the letter at his side, reading it -slowly as he chewed, sopping another die of bread in the gravy and -raising it to his mouth. -Dearest Papli -Thanks ever so much for the lovely birthday present. It suits me -splendid. Everyone says I am quite the belle in my new tam. I got mummy's -Iovely box of creams and am writing. They are lovely. I am getting on -swimming in the photo business now. Mr Coghlan took one of me and Mrs. -Will send when developed. We did great biz yesterday. Fair day and all -the beef to the heels were in. We are going to lough Owel on Monday with -a few friends to make a scrap picnic. Give my love to mummy and to -yourself a big kiss and thanks. I hear them at the piano downstairs. -There is to be a concert in the Greville Arms on Saturday. There is a -young student comes here some evenings named Bannon his cousins or -something are big swells and he sings Boylan's I was on the pop of -writing Blazes Boylan's song about those seaside girls. Tell him silly -Milly sends my best respects. I must now close with fondest love -Your fond daughter, MILLY. -P. S. Excuse bad writing am in hurry. Byby. M. -Fifteen yesterday. Curious, fifteenth of the month too. Her first -birthday away from home. Separation. Remember the summer morning she was -born, running to knock up Mrs Thornton in Denzille street. Jolly old -woman. Lot of babies she must have helped into the world. She knew from -the first poor little Rudy wouldn't live. Well, God is good, sir. She -knew at once. He would be eleven now if he had lived. -His vacant face stared pityingly at the postscript. Excuse bad writing. -Hurry. Piano downstairs. Coming out of her shell. Row with her in the XL -Cafe about the bracelet. Wouldn't eat her cakes or speak or look. -Saucebox. He sopped other dies of bread in the gravy and ate piece after -piece of kidney. Twelve and six a week. Not much. Still, she might do -worse. Music hall stage. Young student. He drank a draught of cooler tea -to wash down his meal. Then he read the letter again twice. -O, well she knows how to mind herself. But if not? No, nothing has -happened. Of course it might. Wait in any case till it does. A wild piece -of goods. Her slim legs running up the staircase. Destiny. Ripening now. -Vain very. -He smiled with troubled affection at the kitchen window. Day I caught her -in the street pinching her cheeks to make them red. Anemic a little. Was -given milk too long. On the ERIN'S KING that day round the Kish. Damned -old tub pitching about. Not a bit funky. Her pale blue scarf loose in the -wind with her hair. -ALL DIMPLED CHEEKS AND CURLS, -YOUR HEAD IT SIMPLY SWIRLS. -Seaside girls. Torn envelope. Hands stuck in his trousers' pockets, -jarvey off for the day, singing. Friend of the family. Swurls, he says. -Pier with lamps, summer evening, band, -THOSE GIRLS, THOSE GIRLS, -THOSE LOVELY SEASIDE GIRLS. -Milly too. Young kisses the first. Far away now past. Mrs Marion. -Reading, lying back now, counting the strands of her hair, smiling, -braiding. -A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his backbone, increasing. Will happen, -yes. Prevent. Useless can't move. Girl's sweet light lips. Will happen -too. He felt the flowing qualm spread over him. Useless to move now. Lips -kissed, kissing, kissed. Full gluey woman's lips. -Better where she is down there away. Occupy her. Wanted a dog to pass -the time. Might take a trip down there. August bank holiday, only two and -six return. Six weeks off, however. Might work a press pass. Or through -M'Coy. -The cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the meatstained paper, -nosed at it and stalked to the door. She looked back at him, mewing. -Wants to go out. Wait before a door sometime it will open. Let her wait. -Has the fidgets. Electric. Thunder in the air. Was washing at her ear -with her back to the fire too. -He felt heavy, full then a gentle loosening of his bowels. He stood up, -undoing the waistband of his trousers. The cat mewed to him. -Miaow he said in answer. Wait till I'm ready. -Heaviness hot day coming. Too much trouble to fag up the stairs to the -landing. -A paper. He liked to read at stool. Hope no ape comes knocking just as -I'm. -In the tabledrawer he found an old number of TITBITS. He folded it under -his armpit, went to the door and opened it. The cat went up in soft -bounds. Ah, wanted to go upstairs, curl up in a ball on the bed. -Listening, he heard her voice -Come, come, pussy. Come. -He went out through the backdoor into the garden stood to listen towards -the next garden. No sound. Perhaps hanging clothes out to dry. The maid -was in the garden. Fine morning. -He bent down to regard a lean file of spearmint growing by the wall. Make -a summerhouse here. Scarlet runners. Virginia creepers. Want to manure -the whole place over, scabby soil. A coat of liver of sulphur. All soil -like that without dung. Household slops. Loam, what is this that is? The -hens in the next garden their droppings are very good top dressing. Best -of all though are the cattle, especially when they are fed on those -oilcakes. Mulch of dung. Best thing to clean ladies' kid gloves. Dirty -cleans. Ashes too. Reclaim the whole place. Grow peas in that corner -there. Lettuce. Always have fresh greens then. Still gardens have their -drawbacks. That bee or bluebottle here Whitmonday. -He walked on. Where is my hat, by the way? Must have put it back on the -peg. Or hanging up on the floor. Funny I don't remember that. Hallstand -too full. Four umbrellas, her raincloak. Picking up the letters. Drago's -shopbell ringing. Queer I was just thinking that moment. Brown -brillantined hair over his collar. Just had a wash and brushup. Wonder -have I time for a bath this morning. Tara street. Chap in the paybox -there got away James Stephens, they say. O'Brien. -Deep voice that fellow Dlugacz has. Agendath what is it? Now, my miss. -Enthusiast. -He kicked open the crazy door of the jakes. Better be careful not to get -these trousers dirty for the funeral. He went in, bowing his head under -the low lintel. Leaving the door ajar, amid the stench of mouldy limewash -and stale cobwebs he undid his braces. Before sitting down he peered -through a chink up at the nextdoor windows. The king was in his -countinghouse. Nobody. -Asquat on the cuckstool he folded out his paper, turning its pages over -on his bared knees. Something new and easy. No great hurry. Keep it a -bit. Our prize titbit MATCHAM'S MASTERSTROKE. Written by Mr Philip -Beaufoy, Playgoers' Club, London. Payment at the rate of one guinea a -column has been made to the writer. Three and a half. Three pounds three. -Three pounds, thirteen and six. -Quietly he read, restraining himself, the first column and, yielding but -resisting, began the second. Midway, his last resistance yielding, he -allowed his bowels to ease themselves quietly as he read, reading still -patiently that slight constipation of yesterday quite gone. Hope it's not -too big bring on piles again. No, just right. So. Ah Costive. One -tabloid of cascara sagrada. Life might be so. It did not move or touch -him but it was something quick and neat. Print anything now. Silly -season. He read on, seated calm above his own rising smell. Neat -certainly. MATCHAM OFTEN THINKS OF THE MASTERSTROKE BY WHICH HE WON THE -LAUGHING WITCH WHO NOW. Begins and ends morally. HAND IN HAND. Smart. He -glanced back through what he had read and, while feeling his water flow -quietly, he envied kindly Mr Beaufoy who had written it and received -payment of three pounds, thirteen and six. -Might manage a sketch. By Mr and Mrs L. M. Bloom. Invent a story for some -proverb. Which? Time I used to try jotting down on my cuff what she said -dressing. Dislike dressing together. Nicked myself shaving. Biting her -nether lip, hooking the placket of her skirt. Timing her. .l. Did -Roberts pay you yet? .. What had Gretta Conroy on? .. What -possessed me to buy this comb? .. I'm swelled after that cabbage. A -speck of dust on the patent leather of her boot. -Rubbing smartly in turn each welt against her stockinged calf. Morning -after the bazaar dance when May's band played Ponchielli's dance of the -hours. Explain that morning hours, noon, then evening coming on, then -night hours. Washing her teeth. That was the first night. Her head -dancing. Her fansticks clicking. Is that Boylan well off? He has money. -Why? I noticed he had a good rich smell off his breath dancing. No use -humming then. Allude to it. Strange kind of music that last night. The -mirror was in shadow. She rubbed her handglass briskly on her woollen -vest against her full wagging bub. Peering into it. Lines in her eyes. It -wouldn't pan out somehow. -Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. Night hours then black with daggers -and eyemasks. Poetical idea pink, then golden, then grey, then black. -Still, true to life also. Day then the night. -He tore away half the prize story sharply and wiped himself with it. Then -he girded up his trousers, braced and buttoned himself. He pulled back -the jerky shaky door of the jakes and came forth from the gloom into the -air. -In the bright light, lightened and cooled in limb, he eyed carefully his -black trousers the ends, the knees, the houghs of the knees. What time -is the funeral? Better find out in the paper. -A creak and a dark whirr in the air high up. The bells of George's -church. They tolled the hour loud dark iron. -HEIGHO HEIGHO -HEIGHO HEIGHO -HEIGHO HEIGHO -Quarter to. There again the overtone following through the air, a third. -Poor Dignam -By lorries along sir John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom walked soberly, past -Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the postal telegraph office. -Could have given that address too. And past the sailors' home. He turned -from the morning noises of the quayside and walked through Lime street. -By Brady's cottages a boy for the skins lolled, his bucket of offal -linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. A smaller girl with scars of eczema on -her forehead eyed him, listlessly holding her battered caskhoop. Tell him -if he smokes he won't grow. O let him His life isn't such a bed of -roses. Waiting outside pubs to bring da home. Come home to ma, da. Slack -hour won't be many there. He crossed Townsend street, passed the -frowning face of Bethel. El, yes house of Aleph, Beth. And past -Nichols' the undertaker. At eleven it is. Time enough. Daresay Corny -Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. Singing with his eyes shut. Corny. -Met her once in the park. In the dark. What a lark. Police tout. Her name -and address she then told with my tooraloom tooraloom tay. O, surely he -bagged it. Bury him cheap in a whatyoumaycall. With my tooraloom, -tooraloom, tooraloom, tooraloom. -In Westland row he halted before the window of the Belfast and Oriental -Tea Company and read the legends of leadpapered packets choice blend, -finest quality, family tea. Rather warm. Tea. Must get some from Tom -Kernan. Couldn't ask him at a funeral, though. While his eyes still read -blandly he took off his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his -right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. Very warm morning. -Under their dropped lids his eyes found the tiny bow of the leather -headband inside his high grade ha. Just there. His right hand came down -into the bowl of his hat. His fingers found quickly a card behind the -headband and transferred it to his waistcoat pocket. -So warm. His right hand once more more slowly went over his brow and -hair. Then he put on his hat again, relieved and read again choice -blend, made of the finest Ceylon brands. The far east. Lovely spot it -must be the garden of the world, big lazy leaves to float about on, -cactuses, flowery meads, snaky lianas they call them. Wonder is it like -that. Those Cinghalese lobbing about in the sun in DOLCE FAR NIENTE, not -doing a hand's turn all day. Sleep six months out of twelve. Too hot to -quarrel. Influence of the climate. Lethargy. Flowers of idleness. The air -feeds most. Azotes. Hothouse in Botanic gardens. Sensitive plants. -Waterlilies. Petals too tired to. Sleeping sickness in the air. Walk on -roseleaves. Imagine trying to eat tripe and cowheel. Where was the chap I -saw in that picture somewhere? Ah yes, in the dead sea floating on his -back, reading a book with a parasol open. Couldn't sink if you tried so -thick with salt. Because the weight of the water, no, the weight of the -body in the water is equal to the weight of the what? Or is it the volume -is equal to the weight? It's a law something like that. Vance in High -school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. The college curriculum. -Cracking curriculum. What is weight really when you say the weight? -Thirtytwo feet per second per second. Law of falling bodies per second -per second. They all fall to the ground. The earth. It's the force of -gravity of the earth is the weight. -He turned away and sauntered across the road. How did she walk with her -sausages? Like that something. As he walked he took the folded FREEMAN -from his sidepocket, unfolded it, rolled it lengthwise in a baton and -tapped it at each sauntering step against his trouserleg. Careless air -just drop in to see. Per second per second. Per second for every second -it means. From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the door of -the postoffice. Too late box. Post here. Noone. In. -He handed the card through the brass grill. -Are there any letters for me? he asked. -While the postmistress searched a pigeonhole he gazed at the recruiting -poster with soldiers of all arms on parade and held the tip of his baton -against his nostrils, smelling freshprinted rag paper. No answer -probably. Went too far last time. -The postmistress handed him back through the grill his card with a -letter. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the typed envelope. -Henry Flower Esq, -c/o P. O. Westland Row, -City. -Answered anyhow. He slipped card and letter into his sidepocket, -reviewing again the soldiers on parade. Where's old Tweedy's regiment? -Castoff soldier. There bearskin cap and hackle plume. No, he's a -grenadier. Pointed cuffs. There he is royal Dublin fusiliers. Redcoats. -Too showy. That must be why the women go after them. Uniform. Easier to -enlist and drill. Maud Gonne's letter about taking them off O'Connell -street at night disgrace to our Irish capital. Griffith's paper is on -the same tack now an army rotten with venereal disease overseas or -halfseasover empire. Half baked they look hypnotised like. Eyes front. -Mark time. Table able. Bed ed. The King's own. Never see him dressed up -as a fireman or a bobby. A mason, yes. -He strolled out of the postoffice and turned to the right. Talk as if -that would mend matters. His hand went into his pocket and a forefinger -felt its way under the flap of the envelope, ripping it open in jerks. -Women will pay a lot of heed, I don't think. His fingers drew forth the -letter the letter and crumpled the envelope in his pocket. Something -pinned on photo perhaps. Hair? No. -M'Coy. Get rid of him quickly. Take me out of my way. Hate company when -you. -Hello, Bloom. Where are you off to? -Hello, M'Coy. Nowhere in particular. -How's the body? -Fine. How are you? -Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. -His eyes on the black tie and clothes he asked with low respect -Is there any ... no trouble I hope? I see you're ... -O, no, Mr Bloom said. Poor Dignam, you know. The funeral is today. -To be sure, poor fellow. So it is. What time? -A photo it isn't. A badge maybe. -E ... eleven, Mr Bloom answered. -I must try to get out there, M'Coy said. Eleven, is it? I only heard it -last night. Who was telling me? Holohan. You know Hoppy? -I know. -Mr Bloom gazed across the road at the outsider drawn up before the door -of the Grosvenor. The porter hoisted the valise up on the well. She stood -still, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like her, searched his -pockets for change. Stylish kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for -a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. Careless stand of her with her -hands in those patch pockets. Like that haughty creature at the polo -match. Women all for caste till you touch the spot. Handsome is and -handsome does. Reserved about to yield. The honourable Mrs and Brutus is -an honourable man. Possess her once take the starch out of her. -I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of his periodical bends, and what do -you call him Bantam Lyons. Just down there in Conway's we were. -Doran Lyons in Conway's. She raised a gloved hand to her hair. In came -Hoppy. Having a wet. Drawing back his head and gazing far from beneath -his vailed eyelids he saw the bright fawn skin shine in the glare, the -braided drums. Clearly I can see today. Moisture about gives long sight -perhaps. Talking of one thing or another. Lady's hand. Which side will -she get up? -And he said SAD THING ABOUT OUR POOR FRIEND PADDY WHAT PADDY? I said. -POOR LITTLE PADDY DIGNAM, he said. -Off to the country Broadstone probably. High brown boots with laces -dangling. Wellturned foot. What is he foostering over that change for? -Sees me looking. Eye out for other fellow always. Good fallback. Two -strings to her bow. -WHY? I said. WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM? I said. -Proud rich silk stockings. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. -He moved a little to the side of M'Coy's talking head. Getting up in a -minute. -WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM? He said. HE'S DEAD, he said. And, faith, he -filled up. IS IT PADDY DIGNAM? I said. I couldn't believe it when I heard -it. I was with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it in the -Arch. YES, he said. HE'S GONE. HE DIED ON MONDAY, POOR FELLOW. Watch -Watch Silk flash rich stockings white. Watch -A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between. -Lost it. Curse your noisy pugnose. Feels locked out of it. Paradise and -the peri. Always happening like that. The very moment. Girl in Eustace -street hallway Monday was it settling her garter. Her friend covering the -display of. ESPRIT DE CORPS. Well, what are you gaping at? -Yes, yes, Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. Another gone. -One of the best, M'Coy said. -The tram passed. They drove off towards the Loop Line bridge, her rich -gloved hand on the steel grip. Flicker, flicker the laceflare of her hat -in the sun flicker, flick. -Wife well, I suppose? M'Coy's changed voice said. -O, yes, Mr Bloom said. Tiptop, thanks. -He unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read idly -WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT -PLUMTREE'S POTTED MEAT? -INCOMPLETE -WITH IT AN ABODE OF BLISS. -My missus has just got an engagement. At least it's not settled yet. -Valise tack again. By the way no harm. I'm off that, thanks. -Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. -My wife too, he said. She's going to sing at a swagger affair in the -Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twentyfifth. -That so? M'Coy said. Glad to hear that, old man. Who's getting it up? -Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. -No book. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Dark lady -and fair man. Letter. Cat furry black ball. Torn strip of envelope. -LOVE'S -OLD -SWEET -SONG -COMES LOOVE'S OLD ... -It's a kind of a tour, don't you see, Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. -SWEEEET SONG. There's a committee formed. Part shares and part profits. -M'Coy nodded, picking at his moustache stubble. -O, well, he said. That's good news. -He moved to go. -Well, glad to see you looking fit, he said. Meet you knocking around. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. -Tell you what, M'Coy said. You might put down my name at the funeral, -will you? I'd like to go but I mightn't be able, you see. There's a -drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then the coroner and myself -would have to go down if the body is found. You just shove in my name if -I'm not there, will you? -I'll do that, Mr Bloom said, moving to get off. That'll be all right. -Right, M'Coy said brightly. Thanks, old man. I'd go if I possibly -could. Well, tolloll. Just C. P. M'Coy will do. -That will be done, Mr Bloom answered firmly. -Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. The quick touch. Soft mark. I'd like -my job. Valise I have a particular fancy for. Leather. Capped corners, -rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Bob Cowley lent him his for the -Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it from that -good day to this. -Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. My missus has just -got an. Reedy freckled soprano. Cheeseparing nose. Nice enough in its -way for a little ballad. No guts in it. You and me, don't you know in -the same boat. Softsoaping. Give you the needle that would. Can't he hear -the difference? Think he's that way inclined a bit. Against my grain -somehow. Thought that Belfast would fetch him. I hope that smallpox up -there doesn't get worse. Suppose she wouldn't let herself be vaccinated -again. Your wife and my wife. -Wonder is he pimping after me? -Mr Bloom stood at the corner, his eyes wandering over the multicoloured -hoardings. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. Clery's Summer -Sale. No, he's going on straight. Hello. LEAH tonight. Mrs Bandmann -Palmer. Like to see her again in that. HAMLET she played last night. Male -impersonator. Perhaps he was a woman. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Poor -papa How he used to talk of Kate Bateman in that. Outside the Adelphi in -London waited all the afternoon to get in. Year before I was born that -was sixtyfive. And Ristori in Vienna. What is this the right name is? By -Mosenthal it is. Rachel, is it? No. The scene he was always talking about -where the old blind Abraham recognises the voice and puts his fingers on -his face. -Nathan's voice His son's voice I hear the voice of Nathan who left his -father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who left the house of his -father and left the God of his father. -Every word is so deep, Leopold. -Poor papa Poor man I'm glad I didn't go into the room to look at his -face. That day O, dear O, dear Ffoo Well, perhaps it was best for -him. -Mr Bloom went round the corner and passed the drooping nags of the -hazard. No use thinking of it any more. Nosebag time. Wish I hadn't met -that M'Coy fellow. -He came nearer and heard a crunching of gilded oats, the gently champing -teeth. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he went by, amid the sweet -oaten reek of horsepiss. Their Eldorado. Poor jugginses Damn all they -know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. Too -full for words. Still they get their feed all right and their doss. -Gelded too a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their -haunches. Might be happy all the same that way. Good poor brutes they -look. Still their neigh can be very irritating. -He drew the letter from his pocket and folded it into the newspaper he -carried. Might just walk into her here. The lane is safer. -He passed the cabman's shelter. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. All -weathers, all places, time or setdown, no will of their own. VOGLIO E -NON. Like to give them an odd cigarette. Sociable. Shout a few flying -syllables as they pass. He hummed -LA CI DAREM LA MANO -LA LA LALA LA LA. -He turned into Cumberland street and, going on some paces, halted -in the lee of the station wall. Noone. Meade's timberyard. Piled balks. -Ruins and tenements. With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court -with its forgotten pickeystone. Not a sinner. Near the timberyard a -squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a cunnythumb. A -wise tabby, a blinking sphinx, watched from her warm sill. Pity to disturb -them. Mohammed cut a piece out of his mantle not to wake her. Open it. -And once I played marbles when I went to that old dame's school. She liked -mignonette. Mrs Ellis's. And Mr? He opened the letter within the -newspaper. -A flower. I think it's a. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Not -annoyed then? What does she say? -Dear Henry -I got your last letter to me and thank you very much for it. I am sorry -you did not like my last letter. Why did you enclose the stamps? I am -awfully angry with you. I do wish I could punish you for that. I called -you naughty boy because I do not like that other world. Please tell me -what is the real meaning of that word? Are you not happy in your home you -poor little naughty boy? I do wish I could do something for you. Please -tell me what you think of poor me. I often think of the beautiful name you -have. Dear Henry, when will we meet? I think of you so often you have no -idea. I have never felt myself so much drawn to a man as you. I feel so -bad about. Please write me a long letter and tell me more. Remember if you -do not I will punish you. So now you know what I will do to you, you -naughty boy, if you do not wrote. O how I long to meet you. Henry dear, do -not deny my request before my patience are exhausted. Then I will tell you -all. Goodbye now, naughty darling, I have such a bad headache. today. and -write BY RETURN to your longing -Martha -P. S. Do tell me what kind of perfume does your wife use. I want to know. -He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell -and placed it in his heart pocket. Language of flowers. They like it -because noone can hear. Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. Then -walking slowly forward he read the letter again, murmuring here and there -a word. Angry tulips with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you -don't please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we -soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Having -read it all he took it from the newspaper and put it back in his -sidepocket. -Weak joy opened his lips. Changed since the first letter. Wonder -did she wrote it herself. Doing the indignant a girl of good -family like me, respectable character. Could meet one Sunday after the -rosary. Thank you not having any. Usual love scrimmage. Then running -round corners. Bad as a row with Molly. Cigar has a cooling effect. -Narcotic. Go further next time. Naughty boy punish afraid of words, of -course. Brutal, why not? Try it anyhow. A bit at a time. -Fingering still the letter in his pocket he drew the pin out of it. -Common pin, eh? He threw it on the road. Out of her clothes somewhere -pinned together. Queer the number of pins they always have. No roses -without thorns. -Flat Dublin voices bawled in his head. Those two sluts that night in -the Coombe, linked together in the rain. -O, MARY LOST THE PIN OF HER DRAWERS. -SHE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO -TO KEEP IT UP -TO KEEP IT UP. -It? Them. Such a bad headache. Has her roses probably. Or sitting all day -typing. Eyefocus bad for stomach nerves. What perfume does your wife -use. Now could you make out a thing like that? -TO KEEP IT UP. -Martha, Mary. I saw that picture somewhere I forget now old master or -faked for money. He is sitting in their house, talking. Mysterious. Also -the two sluts in the Coombe would listen. -TO KEEP IT UP. -Nice kind of evening feeling. No more wandering about. Just loll there -quiet dusk let everything rip. Forget. Tell about places you have been, -strange customs. The other one, jar on her head, was getting the supper -fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of a well, stonecold like the hole in -the wall at Ashtown. Must carry a paper goblet next time I go to the -trottingmatches. She listens with big dark soft eyes. Tell her more and -more all. Then a sigh silence. Long long long rest. -Going under the railway arch he took out the envelope, tore it swiftly -in shreds and scattered them towards the road. The shreds fluttered away, -sank in the dank air a white flutter, then all sank. -Henry Flower. You could tear up a cheque for a hundred pounds in -the same way. Simple bit of paper. Lord Iveagh once cashed a sevenfigure -cheque for a million in the bank of Ireland. Shows you the money to be -made out of porter. Still the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change -his shirt four times a day, they say. Skin breeds lice or vermin. A -million pounds, wait a moment. Twopence a pint, fourpence a quart, -eightpence a gallon of porter, no, one and fourpence a gallon of porter. -One and four into twenty fifteen about. Yes, exactly. Fifteen millions of -barrels of porter. -What am I saying barrels? Gallons. About a million barrels all the same. -An incoming train clanked heavily above his head, coach after coach. -Barrels bumped in his head dull porter slopped and churned inside. The -bungholes sprang open and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, -winding through mudflats all over the level land, a lazy pooling swirl of -liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth. -He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. Stepping into the -porch he doffed his hat, took the card from his pocket and tucked it again -behind the leather headband. Damn it. I might have tried to work M'Coy -for a pass to Mullingar. -Same notice on the door. Sermon by the very reverend John Conmee -S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the African Mission. Prayers for the -conversion of Gladstone they had too when he was almost unconscious. -The protestants are the same. Convert Dr William J. Walsh D.D. to the -true religion. Save China's millions. Wonder how they explain it to the -heathen Chinee. Prefer an ounce of opium. Celestials. Rank heresy for -them. Buddha their god lying on his side in the museum. Taking it easy -with hand under his cheek. Josssticks burning. Not like Ecce Homo. Crown -of thorns and cross. Clever idea Saint Patrick the shamrock. Chopsticks? -Conmee Martin Cunningham knows him distinguishedlooking. Sorry I -didn't work him about getting Molly into the choir instead of that Father -Farley who looked a fool but wasn't. They're taught that. He's not going -out in bluey specs with the sweat rolling off him to baptise blacks, is -he? The glasses would take their fancy, flashing. Like to see them sitting -round in a ring with blub lips, entranced, listening. Still life. Lap it -up like milk, I suppose. -The cold smell of sacred stone called him. He trod the worn steps, -pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the rere. -Something going on some sodality. Pity so empty. Nice discreet place -to be next some girl. Who is my neighbour? Jammed by the hour to slow -music. That woman at midnight mass. Seventh heaven. Women knelt in the -benches with crimson halters round their necks, heads bowed. A batch knelt -at the altarrails. The priest went along by them, murmuring, holding the -thing in his hands. He stopped at each, took out a communion, shook a -drop or two are they in water? off it and put it neatly into her mouth. -Her hat and head sank. Then the next one. Her hat sank at once. Then the -next one a small old woman. The priest bent down to put it into her -mouth, murmuring all the time. Latin. The next one. Shut your eyes and -open your mouth. What? CORPUS body. Corpse. Good idea the Latin. -Stupefies them first. Hospice for the dying. They don't seem to chew it -only swallow it down. Rum idea eating bits of a corpse. Why the cannibals -cotton to it. -He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle, one by -one, and seek their places. He approached a bench and seated himself in -its corner, nursing his hat and newspaper. These pots we have to wear. We -ought to have hats modelled on our heads. They were about him here and -there, with heads still bowed in their crimson halters, waiting for it to -melt in their stomachs. Something like those mazzoth it's that sort of -bread unleavened shewbread. Look at them. Now I bet it makes them feel -happy. Lollipop. It does. Yes, bread of angels it's called. There's a big -idea behind it, kind of kingdom of God is within you feel. First -communicants. Hokypoky penny a lump. Then feel all like one family party, -same in the theatre, all in the same swim. They do. I'm sure of that. Not -so lonely. In our confraternity. Then come out a bit spreeish. Let off -steam. Thing is if you really believe in it. Lourdes cure, waters of -oblivion, and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. Old fellow asleep -near that confessionbox. Hence those snores. Blind faith. Safe in the arms -of kingdom come. Lulls all pain. Wake this time next year. -He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, and kneel -an instant before it, showing a large grey bootsole from under the lace -affair he had on. Suppose he lost the pin of his. He wouldn't know what to -do to. Bald spot behind. Letters on his back I.N.R.I? No I.H.S. -Molly told me one time I asked her. I have sinned or no I have suffered, -it is. And the other one? Iron nails ran in. -Meet one Sunday after the rosary. Do not deny my request. Turn up -with a veil and black bag. Dusk and the light behind her. She might be -here with a ribbon round her neck and do the other thing all the same on -the sly. Their character. That fellow that turned queen's evidence on the -invincibles he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the communion -every morning. This very church. Peter Carey, yes. No, Peter Claver I am -thinking of. Denis Carey. And just imagine that. Wife and six children -at home. And plotting that murder all the time. Those crawthumpers, -now that's a good name for them, there's always something shiftylooking -about them. They're not straight men of business either. O, no, she's -not here the flower no, no. By the way, did I tear up that envelope? -Yes under the bridge. -The priest was rinsing out the chalice then he tossed off the dregs -smartly. Wine. Makes it more aristocratic than for example if he drank -what they are used to Guinness's porter or some temperance beverage -Wheatley's Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane's ginger ale -aromatic. Doesn't give them any of it shew wine only the other. Cold -comfort. Pious fraud but quite right otherwise they'd have one old booser -worse than another coming along, cadging for a drink. Queer the whole -atmosphere of the. Quite right. Perfectly right that is. -Mr Bloom looked back towards the choir. Not going to be any music. -Pity. Who has the organ here I wonder? Old Glynn he knew how to make -that instrument talk, the VIBRATO fifty pounds a year they say he had in -Gardiner street. Molly was in fine voice that day, the STABAT MATER of -Rossini. Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. Christ or Pilate? Christ, -but don't keep us all night over it. Music they wanted. Footdrill stopped. -Could hear a pin drop. I told her to pitch her voice against that corner. -I could feel the thrill in the air, the full, the people looking up -QUIS EST HOMO. -Some of that old sacred music splendid. Mercadante seven last -words. Mozart's twelfth mass GLORIA in that. Those old popes keen on -music, on art and statues and pictures of all kinds. Palestrina for -example too. They had a gay old time while it lasted. Healthy too, -chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs. Benedictine. Green -Chartreuse. Still, having eunuchs in their choir that was coming it a bit -thick. What kind of voice is it? Must be curious to hear after their own -strong basses. Connoisseurs. Suppose they wouldn't feel anything after. -Kind of a placid. No worry. Fall into flesh, don't they? Gluttons, tall, -long legs. Who knows? Eunuch. One way out of it. -He saw the priest bend down and kiss the altar and then face about -and bless all the people. All crossed themselves and stood up. Mr Bloom -glanced about him and then stood up, looking over the risen hats. Stand up -at the gospel of course. Then all settled down on their knees again and he -sat back quietly in his bench. The priest came down from the altar, -holding the thing out from him, and he and the massboy answered each other -in Latin. Then the priest knelt down and began to read off a card -O God, our refuge and our strength ... -Mr Bloom put his face forward to catch the words. English. Throw -them the bone. I remember slightly. How long since your last mass? -Glorious and immaculate virgin. Joseph, her spouse. Peter and Paul. More -interesting if you understood what it was all about. Wonderful -organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. Confession. Everyone wants -to. Then I will tell you all. Penance. Punish me, please. Great weapon in -their hands. More than doctor or solicitor. Woman dying to. And I -schschschschschsch. And did you chachachachacha? And why did you? Look -down at her ring to find an excuse. Whispering gallery walls have ears. -Husband learn to his surprise. God's little joke. Then out she comes. -Repentance skindeep. Lovely shame. Pray at an altar. Hail Mary and -Holy Mary. Flowers, incense, candles melting. Hide her blushes. -Salvation army blatant imitation. Reformed prostitute will address -the meeting. How I found the Lord. Squareheaded chaps those must be -in Rome they work the whole show. And don't they rake in the money too? -Bequests also to the P.P. for the time being in his absolute discretion. -Masses for the repose of my soul to be said publicly with open doors. -Monasteries and convents. The priest in that Fermanagh will case in -the witnessbox. No browbeating him. He had his answer pat for everything. -Liberty and exaltation of our holy mother the church. The doctors of the -church they mapped out the whole theology of it. -The priest prayed -Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the hour of conflict. Be our -safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil may God restrain -him, we humbly pray and do thou, O prince of the heavenly host, by the -power of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him those other wicked -spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. -The priest and the massboy stood up and walked off. All over. The -women remained behind thanksgiving. -Better be shoving along. Brother Buzz. Come around with the plate -perhaps. Pay your Easter duty. -He stood up. Hello. Were those two buttons of my waistcoat open all -the time? Women enjoy it. Never tell you. But we. Excuse, miss, there's a -whh just a whh fluff. Or their skirt behind, placket unhooked. -Glimpses of the moon. Annoyed if you don't. Why didn't you tell me -before. Still like you better untidy. Good job it wasn't farther south. He -passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle and out through the main door -into the light. He stood a moment unseeing by the cold black marble bowl -while before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in the -low tide of holy water. Trams a car of Prescott's dyeworks a widow in -her weeds. Notice because I'm in mourning myself. He covered himself. How -goes the time? Quarter past. Time enough yet. Better get that lotion made -up. Where is this? Ah yes, the last time. Sweny's in Lincoln place. -Chemists rarely move. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. -Hamilton Long's, founded in the year of the flood. Huguenot churchyard -near there. Visit some day. -He walked southward along Westland row. But the recipe is in the -other trousers. O, and I forgot that latchkey too. Bore this funeral -affair. O well, poor fellow, it's not his fault. When was it I got it made -up last? Wait. I changed a sovereign I remember. First of the month it -must have been or the second. O, he can look it up in the prescriptions -book. -The chemist turned back page after page. Sandy shrivelled smell he -seems to have. Shrunken skull. And old. Quest for the philosopher's stone. -The alchemists. Drugs age you after mental excitement. Lethargy then. -Why? Reaction. A lifetime in a night. Gradually changes your character. -Living all the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. All his -alabaster lilypots. Mortar and pestle. Aq. Dist. Fol. Laur. Te Virid. -Smell almost cure you like the dentist's doorbell. Doctor Whack. He ought -to physic himself a bit. Electuary or emulsion. The first fellow that -picked an herb to cure himself had a bit of pluck. Simples. Want to be -careful. Enough stuff here to chloroform you. Test turns blue litmus -paper red. Chloroform. Overdose of laudanum. Sleeping draughts. -Lovephiltres. Paragoric poppysyrup bad for cough. Clogs the pores or the -phlegm. Poisons the only cures. Remedy where you least expect it. Clever -of nature. -About a fortnight ago, sir? -Yes, Mr Bloom said. -He waited by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs, the -dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs. Lot of time taken up telling your -aches and pains. -Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said, and then -orangeflower water ... -It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. -And white wax also, he said. -Brings out the darkness of her eyes. Looking at me, the sheet up to -her eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when I was fixing the links in my -cuffs. Those homely recipes are often the best strawberries for the -teeth nettles and rainwater oatmeal they say steeped in buttermilk. -Skinfood. One of the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it? had only one -skin. Leopold, yes. Three we have. Warts, bunions and pimples to make it -worse. But you want a perfume too. What perfume does your? PEAU D'ESPAGNE. -That orangeflower water is so fresh. Nice smell these soaps have. Pure -curd soap. Time to get a bath round the corner. Hammam. Turkish. Massage. -Dirt gets rolled up in your navel. Nicer if a nice girl did it. Also I -think I. Yes I. Do it in the bath. Curious longing I. Water to water. -Combine business with pleasure. Pity no time for massage. Feel fresh then -all the day. Funeral be rather glum. -Yes, sir, the chemist said. That was two and nine. Have you brought a -bottle? -No, Mr Bloom said. Make it up, please. I'll call later in the day and -I'll take one of these soaps. How much are they? -Fourpence, sir. -Mr Bloom raised a cake to his nostrils. Sweet lemony wax. -I'll take this one, he said. That makes three and a penny. -Yes, sir, the chemist said. You can pay all together, sir, when you -come back. -Good, Mr Bloom said. -He strolled out of the shop, the newspaper baton under his armpit, -the coolwrappered soap in his left hand. -At his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said -Hello, Bloom. What's the best news? Is that today's? Show us a minute. -Shaved off his moustache again, by Jove Long cold upper lip. To -look younger. He does look balmy. Younger than I am. -Bantam Lyons's yellow blacknailed fingers unrolled the baton. Wants -a wash too. Take off the rough dirt. Good morning, have you used Pears' -soap? Dandruff on his shoulders. Scalp wants oiling. -I want to see about that French horse that's running today, Bantam -Lyons said. Where the bugger is it? -He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his high collar. -Barber's itch. Tight collar he'll lose his hair. Better leave him the -paper and get shut of him. -You can keep it, Mr Bloom said. -Ascot. Gold cup. Wait, Bantam Lyons muttered. Half a mo. Maximum -the second. -I was just going to throw it away, Mr Bloom said. -Bantam Lyons raised his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. -What's that? his sharp voice said. -I say you can keep it, Mr Bloom answered. I was going to throw it away -that moment. -Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering then thrust the outspread -sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. -I'll risk it, he said. Here, thanks. -He sped off towards Conway's corner. God speed scut. -Mr Bloom folded the sheets again to a neat square and lodged the -soap in it, smiling. Silly lips of that chap. Betting. Regular hotbed of -it lately. Messenger boys stealing to put on sixpence. Raffle for large -tender turkey. Your Christmas dinner for threepence. Jack Fleming -embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. Keeps a hotel now. They -never come back. Fleshpots of Egypt. -He walked cheerfully towards the mosque of the baths. Remind you -of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the minarets. College sports today I see. He -eyed the horseshoe poster over the gate of college park cyclist doubled -up like a cod in a pot. Damn bad ad. Now if they had made it round like a -wheel. Then the spokes sports, sports, sports and the hub big college. -Something to catch the eye. -There's Hornblower standing at the porter's lodge. Keep him on -hands might take a turn in there on the nod. How do you do, Mr -Hornblower? How do you do, sir? -Heavenly weather really. If life was always like that. Cricket weather. -Sit around under sunshades. Over after over. Out. They can't play it here. -Duck for six wickets. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the Kildare -street club with a slog to square leg. Donnybrook fair more in their line. -And the skulls we were acracking when M'Carthy took the floor. -Heatwave. Won't last. Always passing, the stream of life, which in the -stream of life we trace is dearer than them all. -Enjoy a bath now clean trough of water, cool enamel, the gentle -tepid stream. This is my body. -He foresaw his pale body reclined in it at full, naked, in a womb of -warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. He saw his trunk and -limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow -his navel, bud of flesh and saw the dark tangled curls of his bush -floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, -a languid floating flower. -Martin Cunningham, first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking -carriage and, entering deftly, seated himself. Mr Power stepped in after -him, curving his height with care. -Come on, Simon. -After you, Mr Bloom said. -Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, saying -Yes, yes. -Are we all here now? Martin Cunningham asked. Come along, Bloom. -Mr Bloom entered and sat in the vacant place. He pulled the door to -after him and slammed it twice till it shut tight. He passed an arm -through the armstrap and looked seriously from the open carriagewindow at -the lowered blinds of the avenue. One dragged aside an old woman peeping. -Nose whiteflattened against the pane. Thanking her stars she was passed -over. Extraordinary the interest they take in a corpse. Glad to see us go -we give them such trouble coming. Job seems to suit them. Huggermugger in -corners. Slop about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. Then getting it -ready. Laying it out. Molly and Mrs Fleming making the bed. Pull it more -to your side. Our windingsheet. Never know who will touch you dead. -Wash and shampoo. I believe they clip the nails and the hair. Keep a bit -in an envelope. Grows all the same after. Unclean job. -All waited. Nothing was said. Stowing in the wreaths probably. I am -sitting on something hard. Ah, that soap in my hip pocket. Better shift -it out of that. Wait for an opportunity. -All waited. Then wheels were heard from in front, turning then -nearer then horses' hoofs. A jolt. Their carriage began to move, creaking -and swaying. Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. The blinds -of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. -At walking pace. -They waited still, their knees jogging, till they had turned and were -passing along the tramtracks. Tritonville road. Quicker. The wheels -rattled rolling over the cobbled causeway and the crazy glasses shook -rattling in the doorframes. -What way is he taking us? Mr Power asked through both windows. -Irishtown, Martin Cunningham said. Ringsend. Brunswick street. -Mr Dedalus nodded, looking out. -That's a fine old custom, he said. I am glad to see it has not died out. -All watched awhile through their windows caps and hats lifted by -passers. Respect. The carriage swerved from the tramtrack to the smoother -road past Watery lane. Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, clad in -mourning, a wide hat. -There's a friend of yours gone by, Dedalus, he said. -Who is that? -Your son and heir. -Where is he? Mr Dedalus said, stretching over across. -The carriage, passing the open drains and mounds of rippedup -roadway before the tenement houses, lurched round the corner and, -swerving back to the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels. -Mr Dedalus fell back, saying -Was that Mulligan cad with him? His FIDUS ACHATES -No, Mr Bloom said. He was alone. -Down with his aunt Sally, I suppose, Mr Dedalus said, the Goulding -faction, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of -dung, the wise child that knows her own father. -Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. Wallace Bros the -bottleworks Dodder bridge. -Richie Goulding and the legal bag. Goulding, Collis and Ward he -calls the firm. His jokes are getting a bit damp. Great card he was. -Waltzing in Stamer street with Ignatius Gallaher on a Sunday morning, the -landlady's two hats pinned on his head. Out on the rampage all night. -Beginning to tell on him now that backache of his, I fear. Wife ironing -his back. Thinks he'll cure it with pills. All breadcrumbs they are. -About six hundred per cent profit. -He's in with a lowdown crowd, Mr Dedalus snarled. That Mulligan is a -contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts. His name stinks -all over Dublin. But with the help of God and His blessed mother I'll make -it my business to write a letter one of those days to his mother or his -aunt or whatever she is that will open her eye as wide as a gate. I'll -tickle his catastrophe, believe you me. -He cried above the clatter of the wheels -I won't have her bastard of a nephew ruin my son. A counterjumper's -son. Selling tapes in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's. Not likely. -He ceased. Mr Bloom glanced from his angry moustache to Mr Power's -mild face and Martin Cunningham's eyes and beard, gravely shaking. -Noisy selfwilled man. Full of his son. He is right. Something to -hand on. If little Rudy had lived. See him grow up. Hear his voice in the -house. Walking beside Molly in an Eton suit. My son. Me in his eyes. -Strange feeling it would be. From me. Just a chance. Must have been that -morning in Raymond terrace she was at the window watching the two dogs -at it by the wall of the cease to do evil. And the sergeant grinning up. -She had that cream gown on with the rip she never stitched. Give us a -touch, Poldy. God, I'm dying for it. How life begins. -Got big then. Had to refuse the Greystones concert. My son inside -her. I could have helped him on in life. I could. Make him independent. -Learn German too. -Are we late? Mr Power asked. -Ten minutes, Martin Cunningham said, looking at his watch. -Molly. Milly. Same thing watered down. Her tomboy oaths. O jumping -Jupiter Ye gods and little fishes Still, she's a dear girl. Soon -be a woman. Mullingar. Dearest Papli. Young student. Yes, yes a woman -too. Life, life. -The carriage heeled over and back, their four trunks swaying. -Corny might have given us a more commodious yoke, Mr Power said. -He might, Mr Dedalus said, if he hadn't that squint troubling him. Do -you follow me? -He closed his left eye. Martin Cunningham began to brush away -crustcrumbs from under his thighs. -What is this, he said, in the name of God? Crumbs? -Someone seems to have been making a picnic party here lately, Mr Power -said. -All raised their thighs and eyed with disfavour the mildewed -buttonless leather of the seats. Mr Dedalus, twisting his nose, frowned -downward and said -Unless I'm greatly mistaken. What do you think, Martin? -It struck me too, Martin Cunningham said. -Mr Bloom set his thigh down. Glad I took that bath. Feel my feet -quite clean. But I wish Mrs Fleming had darned these socks better. -Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. -After all, he said, it's the most natural thing in the world. -Did Tom Kernan turn up? Martin Cunningham asked, twirling the peak -of his beard gently. -Yes, Mr Bloom answered. He's behind with Ned Lambert and Hynes. -And Corny Kelleher himself? Mr Power asked. -At the cemetery, Martin Cunningham said. -I met M'Coy this morning, Mr Bloom said. He said he'd try to come. -The carriage halted short. -What's wrong? -We're stopped. -Where are we? -Mr Bloom put his head out of the window. -The grand canal, he said. -Gasworks. Whooping cough they say it cures. Good job Milly never -got it. Poor children Doubles them up black and blue in convulsions. -Shame really. Got off lightly with illnesses compared. Only measles. -Flaxseed tea. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Canvassing for death. Don't -miss this chance. Dogs' home over there. Poor old Athos Be good to Athos, -Leopold, is my last wish. Thy will be done. We obey them in the grave. A -dying scrawl. He took it to heart, pined away. Quiet brute. Old men's dogs -usually are. -A raindrop spat on his hat. He drew back and saw an instant of -shower spray dots over the grey flags. Apart. Curious. Like through a -colander. I thought it would. My boots were creaking I remember now. -The weather is changing, he said quietly. -A pity it did not keep up fine, Martin Cunningham said. -Wanted for the country, Mr Power said. There's the sun again coming out. -Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the veiled sun, -hurled a mute curse at the sky. -It's as uncertain as a child's bottom, he said. -We're off again. -The carriage turned again its stiff wheels and their trunks swayed -gently. Martin Cunningham twirled more quickly the peak of his beard. -Tom Kernan was immense last night, he said. And Paddy Leonard taking -him off to his face. -O, draw him out, Martin, Mr Power said eagerly. Wait till you hear him, -Simon, on Ben Dollard's singing of THE CROPPY BOY. -Immense, Martin Cunningham said pompously. HIS SINGING OF THAT SIMPLE -BALLAD, MARTIN, IS THE MOST TRENCHANT RENDERING I EVER HEARD IN THE WHOLE -COURSE OF MY EXPERIENCE. -Trenchant, Mr Power said laughing. He's dead nuts on that. And the -retrospective arrangement. -Did you read Dan Dawson's speech? Martin Cunningham asked. -I did not then, Mr Dedalus said. Where is it? -In the paper this morning. -Mr Bloom took the paper from his inside pocket. That book I must -change for her. -No, no, Mr Dedalus said quickly. Later on please. -Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the edge of the paper, scanning the -deaths Callan, Coleman, Dignam, Fawcett, Lowry, Naumann, Peake, what -Peake is that? is it the chap was in Crosbie and Alleyne's? no, Sexton, -Urbright. Inked characters fast fading on the frayed breaking paper. -Thanks to the Little Flower. Sadly missed. To the inexpressible grief of -his. Aged after a long and tedious illness. Month's mind Quinlan. -On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy. -IT IS NOW A MONTH SINCE DEAR HENRY FLED -TO HIS HOME UP ABOVE IN THE SKY -WHILE HIS FAMILY WEEPS AND MOURNS HIS LOSS -HOPING SOME DAY TO MEET HIM ON HIGH. -I tore up the envelope? Yes. Where did I put her letter after I read it in -the bath? He patted his waistcoatpocket. There all right. Dear Henry fled. -Before my patience are exhausted. -National school. Meade's yard. The hazard. Only two there now. -Nodding. Full as a tick. Too much bone in their skulls. The other trotting -round with a fare. An hour ago I was passing there. The jarvies raised -their hats. -A pointsman's back straightened itself upright suddenly against a -tramway standard by Mr Bloom's window. Couldn't they invent something -automatic so that the wheel itself much handier? Well but that fellow -would lose his job then? Well but then another fellow would get a job -making the new invention? -Antient concert rooms. Nothing on there. A man in a buff suit with a -crape armlet. Not much grief there. Quarter mourning. People in law -perhaps. -They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under the railway -bridge, past the Queen's theatre in silence. Hoardings Eugene Stratton, -Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Could I go to see LEAH tonight, I wonder. I said I. -Or the LILY OF KILLARNEY? Elster Grimes Opera Company. Big powerful -change. Wet bright bills for next week. FUN ON THE BRISTOL. Martin -Cunningham could work a pass for the Gaiety. Have to stand a drink or -two. As broad as it's long. -He's coming in the afternoon. Her songs. -Plasto's. Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. Who was he? -How do you do? Martin Cunningham said, raising his palm to his brow -in salute. -He doesn't see us, Mr Power said. Yes, he does. How do you do? -Who? Mr Dedalus asked. -Blazes Boylan, Mr Power said. There he is airing his quiff. -Just that moment I was thinking. -Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. From the door of the Red Bank the -white disc of a straw hat flashed reply spruce figure passed. -Mr Bloom reviewed the nails of his left hand, then those of his right -hand. The nails, yes. Is there anything more in him that they she sees? -Fascination. Worst man in Dublin. That keeps him alive. They sometimes -feel what a person is. Instinct. But a type like that. My nails. I am just -looking at them well pared. And after thinking alone. Body getting a bit -softy. I would notice that from remembering. What causes that? I suppose -the skin can't contract quickly enough when the flesh falls off. But the -shape is there. The shape is there still. Shoulders. Hips. Plump. Night of -the dance dressing. Shift stuck between the cheeks behind. -He clasped his hands between his knees and, satisfied, sent his vacant -glance over their faces. -Mr Power asked -How is the concert tour getting on, Bloom? -O, very well, Mr Bloom said. I hear great accounts of it. It's a good -idea, you see ... -Are you going yourself? -Well no, Mr Bloom said. In point of fact I have to go down to the -county Clare on some private business. You see the idea is to tour the -chief towns. What you lose on one you can make up on the other. -Quite so, Martin Cunningham said. Mary Anderson is up there now. -Have you good artists? -Louis Werner is touring her, Mr Bloom said. O yes, we'll have all -topnobbers. J. C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope and. The best, in -fact. -And MADAME, Mr Power said smiling. Last but not least. -Mr Bloom unclasped his hands in a gesture of soft politeness and -clasped them. Smith O'Brien. Someone has laid a bunch of flowers there. -Woman. Must be his deathday. For many happy returns. The carriage -wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting knees. -Oot a dullgarbed old man from the curbstone tendered his wares, his -mouth opening oot. -Four bootlaces for a penny. -Wonder why he was struck off the rolls. Had his office in Hume -street. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for -Waterford. Has that silk hat ever since. Relics of old decency. Mourning -too. Terrible comedown, poor wretch Kicked about like snuff at a wake. -O'Callaghan on his last legs. -And MADAME. Twenty past eleven. Up. Mrs Fleming is in to clean. -Doing her hair, humming. VOGLIO E NON VORREI. No. VORREI E NON. Looking -at the tips of her hairs to see if they are split. MI TREMA UN POCO IL. -Beautiful on that TRE her voice is weeping tone. A thrush. A throstle. -There is a word throstle that expresses that. -His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's goodlooking face. Greyish -over the ears. MADAME smiling. I smiled back. A smile goes a long way. -Only politeness perhaps. Nice fellow. Who knows is that true about the -woman he keeps? Not pleasant for the wife. Yet they say, who was it told -me, there is no carnal. You would imagine that would get played out pretty -quick. Yes, it was Crofton met him one evening bringing her a pound of -rumpsteak. What is this she was? Barmaid in Jury's. Or the Moira, was it? -They passed under the hugecloaked Liberator's form. -Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power. -Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. -A tall blackbearded figure, bent on a stick, stumping round the corner -of Elvery's Elephant house, showed them a curved hand open on his spine. -In all his pristine beauty, Mr Power said. -Mr Dedalus looked after the stumping figure and said mildly -The devil break the hasp of your back -Mr Power, collapsing in laughter, shaded his face from the window as -the carriage passed Gray's statue. -We have all been there, Martin Cunningham said broadly. -His eyes met Mr Bloom's eyes. He caressed his beard, adding -Well, nearly all of us. -Mr Bloom began to speak with sudden eagerness to his companions' faces. -That's an awfully good one that's going the rounds about Reuben J and -the son. -About the boatman? Mr Power asked. -Yes. Isn't it awfully good? -What is that? Mr Dedalus asked. I didn't hear it. -There was a girl in the case, Mr Bloom began, and he determined to send -him to the Isle of Man out of harm's way but when they were both ... -What? Mr Dedalus asked. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it? -Yes, Mr Bloom said. They were both on the way to the boat and he tried -to drown ... -Drown Barabbas Mr Dedalus cried. I wish to Christ he did -Mr Power sent a long laugh down his shaded nostrils. -No, Mr Bloom said, the son himself ... -Martin Cunningham thwarted his speech rudely -Reuben and the son were piking it down the quay next the river on their -way to the Isle of Man boat and the young chiseller suddenly got loose and -over the wall with him into the Liffey. -For God's sake Mr Dedalus exclaimed in fright. Is he dead? -Dead Martin Cunningham cried. Not he A boatman got a pole and -fished him out by the slack of the breeches and he was landed up to the -father on the quay more dead than alive. Half the town was there. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. But the funny part is ... -And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham said, gave the boatman a florin for -saving his son's life. -A stifled sigh came from under Mr Power's hand. -O, he did, Martin Cunningham affirmed. Like a hero. A silver florin. -Isn't it awfully good? Mr Bloom said eagerly. -One and eightpence too much, Mr Dedalus said drily. -Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the carriage. -Nelson's pillar. -Eight plums a penny Eight for a penny -We had better look a little serious, Martin Cunningham said. -Mr Dedalus sighed. -Ah then indeed, he said, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh. -Many a good one he told himself. -The Lord forgive me Mr Power said, wiping his wet eyes with his -fingers. Poor Paddy I little thought a week ago when I saw him last and -he was in his usual health that I'd be driving after him like this. He's -gone from us. -As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, Mr Dedalus said. He went -very suddenly. -Breakdown, Martin Cunningham said. Heart. -He tapped his chest sadly. -Blazing face redhot. Too much John Barleycorn. Cure for a red -nose. Drink like the devil till it turns adelite. A lot of money he spent -colouring it. -Mr Power gazed at the passing houses with rueful apprehension. -He had a sudden death, poor fellow, he said. -The best death, Mr Bloom said. -Their wide open eyes looked at him. -No suffering, he said. A moment and all is over. Like dying in sleep. -Noone spoke. -Dead side of the street this. Dull business by day, land agents, -temperance hotel, Falconer's railway guide, civil service college, Gill's, -catholic club, the industrious blind. Why? Some reason. Sun or wind. At -night too. Chummies and slaveys. Under the patronage of the late Father -Mathew. Foundation stone for Parnell. Breakdown. Heart. -White horses with white frontlet plumes came round the Rotunda -corner, galloping. A tiny coffin flashed by. In a hurry to bury. A -mourning coach. Unmarried. Black for the married. Piebald for bachelors. -Dun for a nun. -Sad, Martin Cunningham said. A child. -A dwarf's face, mauve and wrinkled like little Rudy's was. Dwarf's -body, weak as putty, in a whitelined deal box. Burial friendly society -pays. Penny a week for a sod of turf. Our. Little. Beggar. Baby. -Meant nothing. Mistake of nature. If it's healthy it's from the mother. -If not from the man. Better luck next time. -Poor little thing, Mr Dedalus said. It's well out of it. -The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. Rattle -his bones. Over the stones. Only a pauper. Nobody owns. -In the midst of life, Martin Cunningham said. -But the worst of all, Mr Power said, is the man who takes his own life. -Martin Cunningham drew out his watch briskly, coughed and put it back. -The greatest disgrace to have in the family, Mr Power added. -Temporary insanity, of course, Martin Cunningham said decisively. We -must take a charitable view of it. -They say a man who does it is a coward, Mr Dedalus said. -It is not for us to judge, Martin Cunningham said. -Mr Bloom, about to speak, closed his lips again. Martin Cunningham's -large eyes. Looking away now. Sympathetic human man he is. Intelligent. -Like Shakespeare's face. Always a good word to say. They have no -mercy on that here or infanticide. Refuse christian burial. They -used to drive a stake of wood through his heart in the grave. As if it -wasn't broken already. Yet sometimes they repent too late. Found in the -riverbed clutching rushes. He looked at me. And that awful drunkard of a -wife of his. Setting up house for her time after time and then pawning the -furniture on him every Saturday almost. Leading him the life of the -damned. Wear the heart out of a stone, that. Monday morning. Start afresh. -Shoulder to the wheel. Lord, she must have looked a sight that night -Dedalus told me he was in there. Drunk about the place and capering with -Martin's umbrella. -AND THEY CALL ME THE JEWEL OF ASIA, -OF ASIA, -THE GEISHA. -He looked away from me. He knows. Rattle his bones. -That afternoon of the inquest. The redlabelled bottle on the table. The -room in the hotel with hunting pictures. Stuffy it was. Sunlight through -the slats of the Venetian blind. The coroner's sunlit ears, big and hairy. -Boots giving evidence. Thought he was asleep first. Then saw like yellow -streaks on his face. Had slipped down to the foot of the bed. Verdict -overdose. Death by misadventure. The letter. For my son Leopold. -No more pain. Wake no more. Nobody owns. -The carriage rattled swiftly along Blessington street. Over the stones. -We are going the pace, I think, Martin Cunningham said. -God grant he doesn't upset us on the road, Mr Power said. -I hope not, Martin Cunningham said. That will be a great race tomorrow -in Germany. The Gordon Bennett. -Yes, by Jove, Mr Dedalus said. That will be worth seeing, faith. -As they turned into Berkeley street a streetorgan near the Basin sent -over and after them a rollicking rattling song of the halls. Has anybody -here seen Kelly? Kay ee double ell wy. Dead March from SAUL. He's as bad -as old Antonio. He left me on my ownio. Pirouette The MATER -MISERICORDIAE. Eccles street. My house down there. Big place. Ward for -incurables there. Very encouraging. Our Lady's Hospice for the dying. -Deadhouse handy underneath. Where old Mrs Riordan died. They look -terrible the women. Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the -spoon. Then the screen round her bed for her to die. Nice young student -that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. He's gone over to the lyingin -hospital they told me. From one extreme to the other. The carriage -galloped round a corner stopped. -What's wrong now? -A divided drove of branded cattle passed the windows, lowing, -slouching by on padded hoofs, whisking their tails slowly on their clotted -bony croups. Outside them and through them ran raddled sheep bleating -their fear. -Emigrants, Mr Power said. -Huuuh the drover's voice cried, his switch sounding on their flanks. -Huuuh out of that -Thursday, of course. Tomorrow is killing day. Springers. Cuffe sold -them about twentyseven quid each. For Liverpool probably. Roastbeef for -old England. They buy up all the juicy ones. And then the fifth quarter -lost all that raw stuff, hide, hair, horns. Comes to a big thing in a -year. Dead meat trade. Byproducts of the slaughterhouses for tanneries, -soap, margarine. Wonder if that dodge works now getting dicky meat off the -train at Clonsilla. -The carriage moved on through the drove. -I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the -parkgate to the quays, Mr Bloom said. All those animals could be taken in -trucks down to the boats. -Instead of blocking up the thoroughfare, Martin Cunningham said. Quite -right. They ought to. -Yes, Mr Bloom said, and another thing I often thought, is to have -municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you know. Run the line -out to the cemetery gates and have special trams, hearse and carriage and -all. Don't you see what I mean? -O, that be damned for a story, Mr Dedalus said. Pullman car and saloon -diningroom. -A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Power added. -Why? Mr Bloom asked, turning to Mr Dedalus. Wouldn't it be more -decent than galloping two abreast? -Well, there's something in that, Mr Dedalus granted. -And, Martin Cunningham said, we wouldn't have scenes like that when -the hearse capsized round Dunphy's and upset the coffin on to the road. -That was terrible, Mr Power's shocked face said, and the corpse fell -about the road. Terrible -First round Dunphy's, Mr Dedalus said, nodding. Gordon Bennett cup. -Praises be to God Martin Cunningham said piously. -Bom Upset. A coffin bumped out on to the road. Burst open. Paddy -Dignam shot out and rolling over stiff in the dust in a brown habit too -large for him. Red face grey now. Mouth fallen open. Asking what's up -now. Quite right to close it. Looks horrid open. Then the insides -decompose quickly. Much better to close up all the orifices. Yes, also. -With wax. The sphincter loose. Seal up all. -Dunphy's, Mr Power announced as the carriage turned right. -Dunphy's corner. Mourning coaches drawn up, drowning their grief. -A pause by the wayside. Tiptop position for a pub. Expect we'll pull up -here on the way back to drink his health. Pass round the consolation. -Elixir of life. -But suppose now it did happen. Would he bleed if a nail say cut him in -the knocking about? He would and he wouldn't, I suppose. Depends on -where. The circulation stops. Still some might ooze out of an artery. It -would be better to bury them in red a dark red. -In silence they drove along Phibsborough road. An empty hearse -trotted by, coming from the cemetery looks relieved. -Crossguns bridge the royal canal. -Water rushed roaring through the sluices. A man stood on his -dropping barge, between clamps of turf. On the towpath by the lock a -slacktethered horse. Aboard of the BUGABU. -Their eyes watched him. On the slow weedy waterway he had floated -on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a haulage rope past beds of -reeds, over slime, mudchoked bottles, carrion dogs. Athlone, Mullingar, -Moyvalley, I could make a walking tour to see Milly by the canal. Or cycle -down. Hire some old crock, safety. Wren had one the other day at the -auction but a lady's. Developing waterways. James M'Cann's hobby to row -me o'er the ferry. Cheaper transit. By easy stages. Houseboats. Camping -out. Also hearses. To heaven by water. Perhaps I will without writing. -Come as a surprise, Leixlip, Clonsilla. Dropping down lock by lock to -Dublin. With turf from the midland bogs. Salute. He lifted his brown straw -hat, saluting Paddy Dignam. -They drove on past Brian Boroimhe house. Near it now. -I wonder how is our friend Fogarty getting on, Mr Power said. -Better ask Tom Kernan, Mr Dedalus said. -How is that? Martin Cunningham said. Left him weeping, I suppose? -Though lost to sight, Mr Dedalus said, to memory dear. -The carriage steered left for Finglas road. -The stonecutter's yard on the right. Last lap. Crowded on the spit of -land silent shapes appeared, white, sorrowful, holding out calm hands, -knelt in grief, pointing. Fragments of shapes, hewn. In white silence -appealing. The best obtainable. Thos. H. Dennany, monumental builder and -sculptor. -Passed. -On the curbstone before Jimmy Geary, the sexton's, an old tramp sat, -grumbling, emptying the dirt and stones out of his huge dustbrown -yawning boot. After life's journey. -Gloomy gardens then went by one by one gloomy houses. -Mr Power pointed. -That is where Childs was murdered, he said. The last house. -So it is, Mr Dedalus said. A gruesome case. Seymour Bushe got him off. -Murdered his brother. Or so they said. -The crown had no evidence, Mr Power said. -Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham added. That's the maxim of -the law. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for one innocent -person to be wrongfully condemned. -They looked. Murderer's ground. It passed darkly. Shuttered, -tenantless, unweeded garden. Whole place gone to hell. Wrongfully -condemned. Murder. The murderer's image in the eye of the murdered. -They love reading about it. Man's head found in a garden. Her clothing -consisted of. How she met her death. Recent outrage. The weapon used. -Murderer is still at large. Clues. A shoelace. The body to be exhumed. -Murder will out. -Cramped in this carriage. She mightn't like me to come that way -without letting her know. Must be careful about women. Catch them once -with their pants down. Never forgive you after. Fifteen. -The high railings of Prospect rippled past their gaze. Dark poplars, -rare white forms. Forms more frequent, white shapes thronged amid the -trees, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain -gestures on the air. -The felly harshed against the curbstone stopped. Martin -Cunningham put out his arm and, wrenching back the handle, shoved the -door open with his knee. He stepped out. Mr Power and Mr Dedalus -followed. -Change that soap now. Mr Bloom's hand unbuttoned his hip pocket -swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his inner handkerchief -pocket. He stepped out of the carriage, replacing the newspaper his other -hand still held. -Paltry funeral coach and three carriages. It's all the same. -Pallbearers, gold reins, requiem mass, firing a volley. Pomp of death. -Beyond the hind carriage a hawker stood by his barrow of cakes and fruit. -Simnel cakes those are, stuck together cakes for the dead. Dogbiscuits. -Who ate them? Mourners coming out. -He followed his companions. Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert followed, -Hynes walking after them. Corny Kelleher stood by the opened hearse and -took out the two wreaths. He handed one to the boy. -Where is that child's funeral disappeared to? -A team of horses passed from Finglas with toiling plodding tread, -dragging through the funereal silence a creaking waggon on which lay a -granite block. The waggoner marching at their head saluted. -Coffin now. Got here before us, dead as he is. Horse looking round at it -with his plume skeowways. Dull eye collar tight on his neck, pressing on -a bloodvessel or something. Do they know what they cart out here every -day? Must be twenty or thirty funerals every day. Then Mount Jerome for -the protestants. Funerals all over the world everywhere every minute. -Shovelling them under by the cartload doublequick. Thousands every hour. -Too many in the world. -Mourners came out through the gates woman and a girl. Leanjawed -harpy, hard woman at a bargain, her bonnet awry. Girl's face stained with -dirt and tears, holding the woman's arm, looking up at her for a sign to -cry. Fish's face, bloodless and livid. -The mutes shouldered the coffin and bore it in through the gates. So -much dead weight. Felt heavier myself stepping out of that bath. First the -stiff then the friends of the stiff. Corny Kelleher and the boy followed -with their wreaths. Who is that beside them? Ah, the brotherinlaw. -All walked after. -Martin Cunningham whispered -I was in mortal agony with you talking of suicide before Bloom. -What? Mr Power whispered. How so? -His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham whispered. Had the -Queen's hotel in Ennis. You heard him say he was going to Clare. -Anniversary. -O God Mr Power whispered. First I heard of it. Poisoned himself? -He glanced behind him to where a face with dark thinking eyes -followed towards the cardinal's mausoleum. Speaking. -Was he insured? Mr Bloom asked. -I believe so, Mr Kernan answered. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. -Martin is trying to get the youngster into Artane. -How many children did he leave? -Five. Ned Lambert says he'll try to get one of the girls into Todd's. -A sad case, Mr Bloom said gently. Five young children. -A great blow to the poor wife, Mr Kernan added. -Indeed yes, Mr Bloom agreed. -Has the laugh at him now. -He looked down at the boots he had blacked and polished. She had -outlived him. Lost her husband. More dead for her than for me. One must -outlive the other. Wise men say. There are more women than men in the -world. Condole with her. Your terrible loss. I hope you'll soon follow -him. For Hindu widows only. She would marry another. Him? No. Yet who -knows after. Widowhood not the thing since the old queen died. Drawn on -a guncarriage. Victoria and Albert. Frogmore memorial mourning. But in -the end she put a few violets in her bonnet. Vain in her heart of hearts. -All for a shadow. Consort not even a king. Her son was the substance. -Something new to hope for not like the past she wanted back, waiting. It -never comes. One must go first alone, under the ground and lie no more -in her warm bed. -How are you, Simon? Ned Lambert said softly, clasping hands. Haven't -seen you for a month of Sundays. -Never better. How are all in Cork's own town? -I was down there for the Cork park races on Easter Monday, Ned -Lambert said. Same old six and eightpence. Stopped with Dick Tivy. -And how is Dick, the solid man? -Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert answered. -By the holy Paul Mr Dedalus said in subdued wonder. Dick Tivy bald? -Martin is going to get up a whip for the youngsters, Ned Lambert said, -pointing ahead. A few bob a skull. Just to keep them going till the -insurance is cleared up. -Yes, yes, Mr Dedalus said dubiously. Is that the eldest boy in front? -Yes, Ned Lambert said, with the wife's brother. John Henry Menton is -behind. He put down his name for a quid. -I'll engage he did, Mr Dedalus said. I often told poor Paddy he ought -to mind that job. John Henry is not the worst in the world. -How did he lose it? Ned Lambert asked. Liquor, what? -Many a good man's fault, Mr Dedalus said with a sigh. -They halted about the door of the mortuary chapel. Mr Bloom stood -behind the boy with the wreath looking down at his sleekcombed hair and -at the slender furrowed neck inside his brandnew collar. Poor boy Was he -there when the father? Both unconscious. Lighten up at the last moment -and recognise for the last time. All he might have done. I owe three -shillings to O'Grady. Would he understand? The mutes bore the coffin into -the chapel. Which end is his head? -After a moment he followed the others in, blinking in the screened -light. The coffin lay on its bier before the chancel, four tall yellow -candles at its corners. Always in front of us. Corny Kelleher, laying a -wreath at each fore corner, beckoned to the boy to kneel. The mourners -knelt here and there in prayingdesks. Mr Bloom stood behind near the font -and, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his -pocket and knelt his right knee upon it. He fitted his black hat gently on -his left knee and, holding its brim, bent over piously. -A server bearing a brass bucket with something in it came out through -a door. The whitesmocked priest came after him, tidying his stole with one -hand, balancing with the other a little book against his toad's belly. -Who'll read the book? I, said the rook. -They halted by the bier and the priest began to read out of his book -with a fluent croak. -Father Coffey. I knew his name was like a coffin. DOMINENAMINE. -Bully about the muzzle he looks. Bosses the show. Muscular christian. Woe -betide anyone that looks crooked at him priest. Thou art Peter. Burst -sideways like a sheep in clover Dedalus says he will. With a belly on him -like a poisoned pup. Most amusing expressions that man finds. Hhhn burst -sideways. -NON INTRES IN JUDICIUM CUM SERVO TUO, DOMINE. -Makes them feel more important to be prayed over in Latin. Requiem -mass. Crape weepers. Blackedged notepaper. Your name on the altarlist. -Chilly place this. Want to feed well, sitting in there all the morning in -the gloom kicking his heels waiting for the next please. Eyes of a toad -too. What swells him up that way? Molly gets swelled after cabbage. Air of -the place maybe. Looks full up of bad gas. Must be an infernal lot of bad -gas round the place. Butchers, for instance they get like raw beefsteaks. -Who was telling me? Mervyn Browne. Down in the vaults of saint Werburgh's -lovely old organ hundred and fifty they have to bore a hole in the coffins -sometimes to let out the bad gas and burn it. Out it rushes blue. One -whiff of that and you're a doner. -My kneecap is hurting me. Ow. That's better. -The priest took a stick with a knob at the end of it out of the boy's -bucket and shook it over the coffin. Then he walked to the other end and -shook it again. Then he came back and put it back in the bucket. As you -were before you rested. It's all written down he has to do it. -ET NE NOS INDUCAS IN TENTATIONEM. -The server piped the answers in the treble. I often thought it would be -better to have boy servants. Up to fifteen or so. After that, of -course ... -Holy water that was, I expect. Shaking sleep out of it. He must be fed -up with that job, shaking that thing over all the corpses they trot up. -What harm if he could see what he was shaking it over. Every mortal day a -fresh batch middleaged men, old women, children, women dead in -childbirth, men with beards, baldheaded businessmen, consumptive girls -with little sparrows' breasts. All the year round he prayed the same thing -over them all and shook water on top of them sleep. On Dignam now. -IN PARADISUM. -Said he was going to paradise or is in paradise. Says that over everybody. -Tiresome kind of a job. But he has to say something. -The priest closed his book and went off, followed by the server. -Corny Kelleher opened the sidedoors and the gravediggers came in, hoisted -the coffin again, carried it out and shoved it on their cart. Corny -Kelleher gave one wreath to the boy and one to the brotherinlaw. All -followed them out of the sidedoors into the mild grey air. Mr Bloom came -last folding his paper again into his pocket. He gazed gravely at the -ground till the coffincart wheeled off to the left. The metal wheels -ground the gravel with a sharp grating cry and the pack of blunt boots -followed the trundled barrow along a lane of sepulchres. -The ree the ra the ree the ra the roo. Lord, I mustn't lilt here. -The O'Connell circle, Mr Dedalus said about him. -Mr Power's soft eyes went up to the apex of the lofty cone. -He's at rest, he said, in the middle of his people, old Dan O'. But his -heart is buried in Rome. How many broken hearts are buried here, Simon -Her grave is over there, Jack, Mr Dedalus said. I'll soon be stretched -beside her. Let Him take me whenever He likes. -Breaking down, he began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little -in his walk. Mr Power took his arm. -She's better where she is, he said kindly. -I suppose so, Mr Dedalus said with a weak gasp. I suppose she is in -heaven if there is a heaven. -Corny Kelleher stepped aside from his rank and allowed the mourners to -plod by. -Sad occasions, Mr Kernan began politely. -Mr Bloom closed his eyes and sadly twice bowed his head. -The others are putting on their hats, Mr Kernan said. I suppose we can -do so too. We are the last. This cemetery is a treacherous place. -They covered their heads. -The reverend gentleman read the service too quickly, don't you think? -Mr Kernan said with reproof. -Mr Bloom nodded gravely looking in the quick bloodshot eyes. Secret -eyes, secretsearching. Mason, I think not sure. Beside him again. We are -the last. In the same boat. Hope he'll say something else. -Mr Kernan added -The service of the Irish church used in Mount Jerome is simpler, more -impressive I must say. -Mr Bloom gave prudent assent. The language of course was another thing. -Mr Kernan said with solemnity -I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE. That touches a man's inmost heart. -It does, Mr Bloom said. -Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six feet by two -with his toes to the daisies? No touching that. Seat of the affections. -Broken heart. A pump after all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood -every day. One fine day it gets bunged up and there you are. Lots of -them lying around here lungs, hearts, livers. Old rusty pumps damn the -thing else. The resurrection and the life. Once you are dead you are dead. -That last day idea. Knocking them all up out of their graves. Come forth, -Lazarus And he came fifth and lost the job. Get up Last day Then every -fellow mousing around for his liver and his lights and the rest of his -traps. Find damn all of himself that morning. Pennyweight of powder in -a skull. Twelve grammes one pennyweight. Troy measure. -Corny Kelleher fell into step at their side. -Everything went off A, he said. What? -He looked on them from his drawling eye. Policeman's shoulders. With -your tooraloom tooraloom. -As it should be, Mr Kernan said. -What? Eh? Corny Kelleher said. -Mr Kernan assured him. -Who is that chap behind with Tom Kernan? John Henry Menton asked. I -know his face. -Ned Lambert glanced back. -Bloom, he said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was, is, I mean, the -soprano. She's his wife. -O, to be sure, John Henry Menton said. I haven't seen her for some time. -he was a finelooking woman. I danced with her, wait, fifteen seventeen -golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. And a good armful she -was. -He looked behind through the others. -What is he? he asked. What does he do? Wasn't he in the stationery line? -I fell foul of him one evening, I remember, at bowls. -Ned Lambert smiled. -Yes, he was, he said, in Wisdom Hely's. A traveller for blottingpaper. -In God's name, John Henry Menton said, what did she marry a coon like -that for? She had plenty of game in her then. -Has still, Ned Lambert said. He does some canvassing for ads. -John Henry Menton's large eyes stared ahead. -The barrow turned into a side lane. A portly man, ambushed among -the grasses, raised his hat in homage. The gravediggers touched their -caps. -John O'Connell, Mr Power said pleased. He never forgets a friend. -Mr O'Connell shook all their hands in silence. Mr Dedalus said -I am come to pay you another visit. -My dear Simon, the caretaker answered in a low voice. I don't want your -custom at all. -Saluting Ned Lambert and John Henry Menton he walked on at Martin -Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his back. -Did you hear that one, he asked them, about Mulcahy from the Coombe? -I did not, Martin Cunningham said. -They bent their silk hats in concert and Hynes inclined his ear. The -caretaker hung his thumbs in the loops of his gold watchchain and spoke in -a discreet tone to their vacant smiles. -They tell the story, he said, that two drunks came out here one foggy -evening to look for the grave of a friend of theirs. They asked for -Mulcahy from the Coombe and were told where he was buried. After traipsing -about in the fog they found the grave sure enough. One of the drunks spelt -out the name Terence Mulcahy. The other drunk was blinking up at a statue -of Our Saviour the widow had got put up. -The caretaker blinked up at one of the sepulchres they passed. He -resumed -And, after blinking up at the sacred figure, NOT A BLOODY BIT LIKE THE -MAN, says he. THAT'S NOT MULCAHY, says he, WHOEVER DONE IT. -Rewarded by smiles he fell back and spoke with Corny Kelleher, accepting -the dockets given him, turning them over and scanning them as he walked. -That's all done with a purpose, Martin Cunningham explained to Hynes. -I know, Hynes said. I know that. -To cheer a fellow up, Martin Cunningham said. It's pure goodheartedness -damn the thing else. -Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk. All want to be on -good terms with him. Decent fellow, John O'Connell, real good sort. Keys -like Keyes's ad no fear of anyone getting out. No passout checks. HABEAS -CORPUS. I must see about that ad after the funeral. Did I write -Ballsbridge on the envelope I took to cover when she disturbed me writing -to Martha? Hope it's not chucked in the dead letter office. Be the better -of a shave. Grey sprouting beard. That's the first sign when the hairs -come out grey. And temper getting cross. Silver threads among the grey. -Fancy being his wife. Wonder he had the gumption to propose to any girl. -Come out and live in the graveyard. Dangle that before her. It might -thrill her first. Courting death ... Shades of night hovering here with -all the dead stretched about. The shadows of the tombs when churchyards -yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be a descendant I suppose who is this used -to say he was a queer breedy man great catholic all the same like a big -giant in the dark. Will o' the wisp. Gas of graves. Want to keep her mind -off it to conceive at all. Women especially are so touchy. Tell her a -ghost story in bed to make her sleep. Have you ever seen a ghost? Well, I -have. It was a pitchdark night. The clock was on the stroke of twelve. -Still they'd kiss all right if properly keyed up. Whores in Turkish -graveyards. Learn anything if taken young. You might pick up a young -widow here. Men like that. Love among the tombstones. Romeo. Spice of -pleasure. In the midst of death we are in life. Both ends meet. -Tantalising for the poor dead. Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the -starving. Gnawing their vitals. Desire to grig people. Molly wanting to -do it at the window. Eight children he has anyway. -He has seen a fair share go under in his time, lying around him field -after field. Holy fields. More room if they buried them standing. Sitting -or kneeling you couldn't. Standing? His head might come up some day above -ground in a landslip with his hand pointing. All honeycombed the ground -must be oblong cells. And very neat he keeps it too trim grass and -edgings. His garden Major Gamble calls Mount Jerome. Well, so it is. -Ought to be flowers of sleep. Chinese cemeteries with giant poppies -growing produce the best opium Mastiansky told me. The Botanic Gardens -are just over there. It's the blood sinking in the earth gives new life. -Same idea those jews they said killed the christian boy. Every man -his price. Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable -for fruit garden. A bargain. By carcass of William Wilkinson, auditor -and accountant, lately deceased, three pounds thirteen and six. -With thanks. -I daresay the soil would be quite fat with corpsemanure, bones, flesh, -nails. Charnelhouses. Dreadful. Turning green and pink decomposing. Rot -quick in damp earth. The lean old ones tougher. Then a kind of a tallowy -kind of a cheesy. Then begin to get black, black treacle oozing out of -them. Then dried up. Deathmoths. Of course the cells or whatever they are -go on living. Changing about. Live for ever practically. Nothing to feed -on feed on themselves. -But they must breed a devil of a lot of maggots. Soil must be simply -swirling with them. Your head it simply swurls. Those pretty little -seaside gurls. He looks cheerful enough over it. Gives him a sense of -power seeing all the others go under first. Wonder how he looks at life. -Cracking his jokes too warms the cockles of his heart. The one about the -bulletin. Spurgeon went to heaven a.m. this morning. p.m. -closing time. Not arrived yet. Peter. The dead themselves the men -anyhow would like to hear an odd joke or the women to know what's in -fashion. A juicy pear or ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet. Keep out -the damp. You must laugh sometimes so better do it that way. Gravediggers -in HAMLET. Shows the profound knowledge of the human heart. Daren't joke -about the dead for two years at least. DE MORTUIS NIL NISI PRIUS. Go out -of mourning first. Hard to imagine his funeral. Seems a sort of a joke. -Read your own obituary notice they say you live longer. Gives you second -wind. New lease of life. -How many haveyou for tomorrow? the caretaker asked. -Two, Corny Kelleher said. Half ten and eleven. -The caretaker put the papers in his pocket. The barrow had ceased to -trundle. The mourners split and moved to each side of the hole, stepping -with care round the graves. The gravediggers bore the coffin and set its -nose on the brink, looping the bands round it. -Burying him. We come to bury Caesar. His ides of March or June. -He doesn't know who is here nor care. -Now who is that lankylooking galoot over there in the macintosh? -Now who is he I'd like to know? Now I'd give a trifle to know who he is. -Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. A fellow could live on his -lonesome all his life. Yes, he could. Still he'd have to get someone to -sod him after he died though he could dig his own grave. We all do. Only -man buries. No, ants too. First thing strikes anybody. Bury the dead. Say -Robinson Crusoe was true to life. Well then Friday buried him. Every -Friday buries a Thursday if you come to look at it. -O, POOR ROBINSON CRUSOE -HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY DO SO? -Poor Dignam His last lie on the earth in his box. When you think of -them all it does seem a waste of wood. All gnawed through. They could -invent a handsome bier with a kind of panel sliding, let it down that way. -Ay but they might object to be buried out of another fellow's. They're so -particular. Lay me in my native earth. Bit of clay from the holy land. -Only a mother and deadborn child ever buried in the one coffin. I see what -it means. I see. To protect him as long as possible even in the earth. The -Irishman's house is his coffin. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same -idea. -Mr Bloom stood far back, his hat in his hand, counting the bared -heads. Twelve. I'm thirteen. No. The chap in the macintosh is thirteen. -Death's number. Where the deuce did he pop out of? He wasn't in the -chapel, that I'll swear. Silly superstition that about thirteen. -Nice soft tweed Ned Lambert has in that suit. Tinge of purple. I had -one like that when we lived in Lombard street west. Dressy fellow he was -once. Used to change three suits in the day. Must get that grey suit of -mine turned by Mesias. Hello. It's dyed. His wife I forgot he's not -married or his landlady ought to have picked out those threads for him. -The coffin dived out of sight, eased down by the men straddled on the -gravetrestles. They struggled up and out and all uncovered. Twenty. -Pause. -If we were all suddenly somebody else. -Far away a donkey brayed. Rain. No such ass. Never see a dead one, -they say. Shame of death. They hide. Also poor papa went away. -Gentle sweet air blew round the bared heads in a whisper. Whisper. -The boy by the gravehead held his wreath with both hands staring quietly -in the black open space. Mr Bloom moved behind the portly kindly -caretaker. Wellcut frockcoat. Weighing them up perhaps to see which will -go next. Well, it is a long rest. Feel no more. It's the moment you feel. -Must be damned unpleasant. Can't believe it at first. Mistake must be -someone else. Try the house opposite. Wait, I wanted to. I haven't yet. -Then darkened deathchamber. Light they want. Whispering around you. Would -you like to see a priest? Then rambling and wandering. Delirium all you -hid all your life. The death struggle. His sleep is not natural. Press his -lower eyelid. Watching is his nose pointed is his jaw sinking are the -soles of his feet yellow. Pull the pillow away and finish it off on the -floor since he's doomed. Devil in that picture of sinner's death showing -him a woman. Dying to embrace her in his shirt. Last act of LUCIA. -SHALL I NEVERMORE BEHOLD THEE? Bam He expires. Gone at last. People -talk about you a bit forget you. Don't forget to pray for him. -Remember him in your prayers. Even Parnell. Ivy day dying out. Then -they follow dropping into a hole, one after the other. -We are praying now for the repose of his soul. Hoping you're well -and not in hell. Nice change of air. Out of the fryingpan of life into the -fire of purgatory. -Does he ever think of the hole waiting for himself? They say you do -when you shiver in the sun. Someone walking over it. Callboy's warning. -Near you. Mine over there towards Finglas, the plot I bought. Mamma, -poor mamma, and little Rudy. -The gravediggers took up their spades and flung heavy clods of clay -in on the coffin. Mr Bloom turned away his face. And if he was alive all -the time? Whew By jingo, that would be awful No, no he is dead, of -course. Of course he is dead. Monday he died. They ought to have -some law to pierce the heart and make sure or an electric clock or -a telephone in the coffin and some kind of a canvas airhole. Flag of -distress. Three days. Rather long to keep them in summer. Just as well -to get shut of them as soon as you are sure there's no. -The clay fell softer. Begin to be forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind. -The caretaker moved away a few paces and put on his hat. Had -enough of it. The mourners took heart of grace, one by one, covering -themselves without show. Mr Bloom put on his hat and saw the portly -figure make its way deftly through the maze of graves. Quietly, sure of -his ground, he traversed the dismal fields. -Hynes jotting down something in his notebook. Ah, the names. But he -knows them all. No coming to me. -I am just taking the names, Hynes said below his breath. What is your -christian name? I'm not sure. -L, Mr Bloom said. Leopold. And you might put down M'Coy's name too. -He asked me to. -Charley, Hynes said writing. I know. He was on the FREEMAN once. -So he was before he got the job in the morgue under Louis Byrne. -Good idea a postmortem for doctors. Find out what they imagine they -know. He died of a Tuesday. Got the run. Levanted with the cash of a few -ads. Charley, you're my darling. That was why he asked me to. O well, -does no harm. I saw to that, M'Coy. Thanks, old chap much obliged. -Leave him under an obligation costs nothing. -And tell us, Hynes said, do you know that fellow in the, fellow was -over there in the ... -He looked around. -Macintosh. Yes, I saw him, Mr Bloom said. Where is he now? -M'Intosh, Hynes said scribbling. I don't know who he is. Is that -his name? -He moved away, looking about him. -No, Mr Bloom began, turning and stopping. I say, Hynes -Didn't hear. What? Where has he disappeared to? Not a sign. Well of -all the. Has anybody here seen? Kay ee double ell. Become invisible. Good -Lord, what became of him? -A seventh gravedigger came beside Mr Bloom to take up an idle spade. -O, excuse me -He stepped aside nimbly. -Clay, brown, damp, began to be seen in the hole. It rose. Nearly over. -A mound of damp clods rose more, rose, and the gravediggers rested their -spades. All uncovered again for a few instants. The boy propped his wreath -against a corner the brotherinlaw his on a lump. The gravediggers put -on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the barrow. Then -knocked the blades lightly on the turf clean. One bent to pluck from the -haft a long tuft of grass. One, leaving his mates, walked slowly on with -shouldered weapon, its blade blueglancing. Silently at the gravehead -another coiled the coffinband. His navelcord. The brotherinlaw, turning -away, placed something in his free hand. Thanks in silence. Sorry, sir -trouble. Headshake. I know that. For yourselves just. -The mourners moved away slowly without aim, by devious paths, -staying at whiles to read a name on a tomb. -Let us go round by the chief's grave, Hynes said. We have time. -Let us, Mr Power said. -They turned to the right, following their slow thoughts. With awe Mr -Power's blank voice spoke -Some say he is not in that grave at all. That the coffin was filled -with stones. That one day he will come again. -Hynes shook his head. -Parnell will never come again, he said. He's there, all that was mortal -of him. Peace to his ashes. -Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, -crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast -eyes, old Ireland's hearts and hands. More sensible to spend the money on -some charity for the living. Pray for the repose of the soul of. Does -anybody really? Plant him and have done with him. Like down a coalshoot. -Then lump them together to save time. All souls' day. Twentyseventh I'll -be at his grave. Ten shillings for the gardener. He keeps it free of -weeds. Old man himself. Bent down double with his shears clipping. Near -death's door. Who passed away. Who departed this life. As if they did it -of their own accord. Got the shove, all of them. Who kicked the bucket. -More interesting if they told you what they were. So and So, wheelwright. -I travelled for cork lino. I paid five shillings in the pound. Or a -woman's with her saucepan. I cooked good Irish stew. Eulogy in a country -churchyard it ought to be that poem of whose is it Wordsworth or Thomas -Campbell. Entered into rest the protestants put it. Old Dr Murren's. -The great physician called him home. Well it's God's acre for them. -Nice country residence. Newly plastered and painted. Ideal spot to -have a quiet smoke and read the CHURCH TIMES. Marriage ads they never -try to beautify. Rusty wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil. -Better value that for the money. Still, the flowers are more poetical. -The other gets rather tiresome, never withering. Expresses nothing. -Immortelles. -A bird sat tamely perched on a poplar branch. Like stuffed. Like the -wedding present alderman Hooper gave us. Hoo Not a budge out of him. -Knows there are no catapults to let fly at him. Dead animal even sadder. -SillyMilly burying the little dead bird in the kitchen matchbox, a -daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the grave. -The Sacred Heart that is showing it. Heart on his sleeve. Ought to be -sideways and red it should be painted like a real heart. Ireland was -dedicated to it or whatever that. Seems anything but pleased. Why this -infliction? Would birds come then and peck like the boy with the basket of -fruit but he said no because they ought to have been afraid of the boy. -Apollo that was. -How many All these here once walked round Dublin. Faithful departed. -As you are now so once were we. -Besides how could you remember everybody? Eyes, walk, voice. Well, -the voice, yes gramophone. Have a gramophone in every grave or keep it -in the house. After dinner on a Sunday. Put on poor old greatgrandfather. -Kraahraark Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain -hellohello amawf krpthsth. Remind you of the voice like the photograph -reminds you of the face. Otherwise you couldn't remember the face after -fifteen years, say. For instance who? For instance some fellow that died -when I was in Wisdom Hely's. -Rtststr A rattle of pebbles. Wait. Stop -He looked down intently into a stone crypt. Some animal. Wait. -There he goes. -An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the crypt, moving the -pebbles. An old stager greatgrandfather he knows the ropes. The grey -alive crushed itself in under the plinth, wriggled itself in under it. -Good hidingplace for treasure. -Who lives there? Are laid the remains of Robert Emery. Robert -Emmet was buried here by torchlight, wasn't he? Making his rounds. -Tail gone now. -One of those chaps would make short work of a fellow. Pick the -bones clean no matter who it was. Ordinary meat for them. A corpse is -meat gone bad. Well and what's cheese? Corpse of milk. I read in that -VOYAGES IN CHINA that the Chinese say a white man smells like a corpse. -Cremation better. Priests dead against it. Devilling for the other firm. -Wholesale burners and Dutch oven dealers. Time of the plague. Quicklime -feverpits to eat them. Lethal chamber. Ashes to ashes. Or bury at sea. -Where is that Parsee tower of silence? Eaten by birds. Earth, fire, water. -Drowning they say is the pleasantest. See your whole life in a flash. But -being brought back to life no. Can't bury in the air however. Out of a -flying machine. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh one is let -down. Underground communication. We learned that from them. Wouldn't be -surprised. Regular square feed for them. Flies come before he's well dead. -Got wind of Dignam. They wouldn't care about the smell of it. Saltwhite -crumbling mush of corpse smell, taste like raw white turnips. -The gates glimmered in front still open. Back to the world again. -Enough of this place. Brings you a bit nearer every time. Last time I was -here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Poor papa too. The love that kills. And -even scraping up the earth at night with a lantern like that case I read -of to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running -gravesores. Give you the creeps after a bit. I will appear to you after -death. You will see my ghost after death. My ghost will haunt you after -death. There is another world after death named hell. I do not like that -other world she wrote. No more do I. Plenty to see and hear and feel yet. -Feel live warm beings near you. Let them sleep in their maggoty beds. They -are not going to get me this innings. Warm beds warm fullblooded life. -Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. -Solicitor, I think. I know his face. Menton, John Henry, solicitor, -commissioner for oaths and affidavits. Dignam used to be in his office. -Mat Dillon's long ago. Jolly Mat. Convivial evenings. Cold fowl, cigars, -the Tantalus glasses. Heart of gold really. Yes, Menton. Got his rag out -that evening on the bowlinggreen because I sailed inside him. Pure fluke -of mine the bias. Why he took such a rooted dislike to me. Hate at first -sight. Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the lilactree, laughing. -Fellow always like that, mortified if women are by. -Got a dinge in the side of his hat. Carriage probably. -Excuse me, sir, Mr Bloom said beside them. -They stopped. -Your hat is a little crushed, Mr Bloom said pointing. -John Henry Menton stared at him for an instant without moving. -There, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also. John Henry Menton took -off his hat, bulged out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care on his -coatsleeve. He clapped the hat on his head again. -It's all right now, Martin Cunningham said. -John Henry Menton jerked his head down in acknowledgment. -Thank you, he said shortly. -They walked on towards the gates. Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew -behind a few paces so as not to overhear. Martin laying down the law. -Martin could wind a sappyhead like that round his little finger, without -his seeing it. -Oyster eyes. Never mind. Be sorry after perhaps when it dawns on him. -Get the pull over him that way. -Thank you. How grand we are this morning -IN THE HEART OF THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS -Before Nelson's pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started -for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure, -Palmerston Park and upper Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, -Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross. The hoarse Dublin -United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off -Rathgar and Terenure -Come on, Sandymount Green -Right and left parallel clanging ringing a doubledecker and a -singledeck moved from their railheads, swerved to the down line, glided -parallel. -Start, Palmerston Park -THE WEARER OF THE CROWN -Under the porch of the general post office shoeblacks called and -polished. Parked in North Prince's street His Majesty's vermilion -mailcars, bearing on their sides the royal initials, E. R., received -loudly flung sacks of letters, postcards, lettercards, parcels, insured -and paid, for local, provincial, British and overseas delivery. -GENTLEMEN OF THE PRESS -Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's -stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float -bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of -Prince's stores. -There it is, Red Murray said. Alexander Keyes. -Just cut it out, will you? Mr Bloom said, and I'll take it round to the -TELEGRAPH office. -The door of Ruttledge's office creaked again. Davy Stephens, minute -in a large capecoat, a small felt hat crowning his ringlets, passed out -with a roll of papers under his cape, a king's courier. -Red Murray's long shears sliced out the advertisement from the -newspaper in four clean strokes. Scissors and paste. -I'll go through the printingworks, Mr Bloom said, taking the cut square. -Of course, if he wants a par, Red Murray said earnestly, a pen behind -his ear, we can do him one. -Right, Mr Bloom said with a nod. I'll rub that in. -We. -WILLIAM BRAYDEN, -ESQUIRE, OF OAKLANDS, SANDYMOUNT -Red Murray touched Mr Bloom's arm with the shears and whispered -Brayden. -Mr Bloom turned and saw the liveried porter raise his lettered cap as a -stately figure entered between the newsboards of the WEEKLY FREEMAN AND -NATIONAL PRESS and the FREEMAN'S JOURNAL AND NATIONAL PRESS. Dullthudding -Guinness's barrels. It passed statelily up the staircase, steered by an -umbrella, a solemn beardframed face. The broadcloth back ascended each -step back. All his brains are in the nape of his neck, Simon Dedalus -says. Welts of flesh behind on him. Fat folds of neck, fat, neck, fat, -neck. -Don't you think his face is like Our Saviour? Red Murray whispered. -The door of Ruttledge's office whispered ee cree. They always build -one door opposite another for the wind to. Way in. Way out. -Our Saviour beardframed oval face talking in the dusk. Mary, -Martha. Steered by an umbrella sword to the footlights Mario the tenor. -Or like Mario, Mr Bloom said. -Yes, Red Murray agreed. But Mario was said to be the picture of Our -Saviour. -Jesusmario with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs. Hand on his -heart. In MARTHA. -COOME THOU LOST ONE, -COOME THOU DEAR ONE -THE CROZIER AND THE PEN -His grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray said gravely. -They watched the knees, legs, boots vanish. Neck. -A telegram boy stepped in nimbly, threw an envelope on the counter -and stepped off posthaste with a word -FREEMAN -Mr Bloom said slowly -Well, he is one of our saviours also. -A meek smile accompanied him as he lifted the counterflap, as he -passed in through a sidedoor and along the warm dark stairs and passage, -along the now reverberating boards. But will he save the circulation? -Thumping. Thumping. -He pushed in the glass swingdoor and entered, stepping over strewn -packing paper. Through a lane of clanking drums he made his way towards -Nannetti's reading closet. -Hynes here too account of the funeral probably. Thumping. Thump. -WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT IS WE ANNOUNCE THE DISSOLUTION -OF A MOST RESPECTED DUBLIN BURGESS -This morning the remains of the late Mr Patrick Dignam. Machines. -Smash a man to atoms if they got him caught. Rule the world today. His -machineries are pegging away too. Like these, got out of hand fermenting. -Working away, tearing away. And that old grey rat tearing to get in. -HOW A GREAT DAILY ORGAN IS TURNED OUT -Mr Bloom halted behind the foreman's spare body, admiring a glossy crown. -Strange he never saw his real country. Ireland my country. Member -for College green. He boomed that workaday worker tack for all it was -worth. It's the ads and side features sell a weekly, not the stale news in -the official gazette. Queen Anne is dead. Published by authority in the -year one thousand and. Demesne situate in the townland of Rosenallis, -barony of Tinnahinch. To all whom it may concern schedule pursuant to -statute showing return of number of mules and jennets exported from -Ballina. Nature notes. Cartoons. Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. -Uncle Toby's page for tiny tots. Country bumpkin's queries. Dear Mr -Editor, what is a good cure for flatulence? I'd like that part. Learn a -lot teaching others. The personal note. M. A. P. Mainly all pictures. -Shapely bathers on golden strand. World's biggest balloon. Double marriage -of sisters celebrated. Two bridegrooms laughing heartily at each other. -Cuprani too, printer. More Irish than the Irish. -The machines clanked in threefour time. Thump, thump, thump. -Now if he got paralysed there and noone knew how to stop them they'd -clank on and on the same, print it over and over and up and back. -Monkeydoodle the whole thing. Want a cool head. -Well, get it into the evening edition, councillor, Hynes said. -Soon be calling him my lord mayor. Long John is backing him, they say. -The foreman, without answering, scribbled press on a corner of the -sheet and made a sign to a typesetter. He handed the sheet silently over -the dirty glass screen. -Right thanks, Hynes said moving off. -Mr Bloom stood in his way. -If you want to draw the cashier is just going to lunch, he said, -pointing backward with his thumb. -Did you? Hynes asked. -Mm, Mr Bloom said. Look sharp and you'll catch him. -Thanks, old man, Hynes said. I'll tap him too. -He hurried on eagerly towards the FREEMAN'S JOURNAL. -Three bob I lent him in Meagher's. Three weeks. Third hint. -WE SEE THE CANVASSER AT WORK -Mr Bloom laid his cutting on Mr Nannetti's desk. -Excuse me, councillor, he said. This ad, you see. Keyes, you remember? -Mr Nannetti considered the cutting awhile and nodded. -He wants it in for July, Mr Bloom said. -The foreman moved his pencil towards it. -But wait, Mr Bloom said. He wants it changed. Keyes, you see. He wants -two keys at the top. -Hell of a racket they make. He doesn't hear it. Nannan. Iron nerves. -Maybe he understands what I. -The foreman turned round to hear patiently and, lifting an elbow, -began to scratch slowly in the armpit of his alpaca jacket. -Like that, Mr Bloom said, crossing his forefingers at the top. -Let him take that in first. -Mr Bloom, glancing sideways up from the cross he had made, saw the -foreman's sallow face, think he has a touch of jaundice, and beyond the -obedient reels feeding in huge webs of paper. Clank it. Clank it. Miles of -it unreeled. What becomes of it after? O, wrap up meat, parcels various -uses, thousand and one things. -Slipping his words deftly into the pauses of the clanking he drew -swiftly on the scarred woodwork. -HOUSE OF KEYES -Like that, see. Two crossed keys here. A circle. Then here the name. -Alexander Keyes, tea, wine and spirit merchant. So on. -Better not teach him his own business. -You know yourself, councillor, just what he wants. Then round the top -in leaded the house of keys. You see? Do you think that's a good idea? -The foreman moved his scratching hand to his lower ribs and scratched -there quietly. -The idea, Mr Bloom said, is the house of keys. You know, councillor, -the Manx parliament. Innuendo of home rule. Tourists, you know, from the -isle of Man. Catches the eye, you see. Can you do that? -I could ask him perhaps about how to pronounce that VOGLIO. But -then if he didn't know only make it awkward for him. Better not. -We can do that, the foreman said. Have you the design? -I can get it, Mr Bloom said. It was in a Kilkenny paper. He has a house -there too. I'll just run out and ask him. Well, you can do that and just a -little par calling attention. You know the usual. Highclass licensed -premises. Longfelt want. So on. -The foreman thought for an instant. -We can do that, he said. Let him give us a three months' renewal. -A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage. He began to check it -silently. Mr Bloom stood by, hearing the loud throbs of cranks, watching -the silent typesetters at their cases. -ORTHOGRAPHICAL -Want to be sure of his spelling. Proof fever. Martin Cunningham -forgot to give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning. It is amusing to -view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it? double ess ment of a -harassed pedlar while gauging au the symmetry with a y of a peeled pear -under a cemetery wall. Silly, isn't it? Cemetery put in of course on -account of the symmetry. -I should have said when he clapped on his topper. Thank you. I ought -to have said something about an old hat or something. No. I could have -said. Looks as good as new now. See his phiz then. -Sllt. The nethermost deck of the first machine jogged forward its -flyboard with sllt the first batch of quirefolded papers. Sllt. Almost -human the way it sllt to call attention. Doing its level best to speak. -That door too sllt creaking, asking to be shut. Everything speaks in its -own way. Sllt. -NOTED CHURCHMAN AN OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTOR -The foreman handed back the galleypage suddenly, saying -Wait. Where's the archbishop's letter? It's to be repeated in the -TELEGRAPH. Where's what's his name? -He looked about him round his loud unanswering machines. -Monks, sir? a voice asked from the castingbox. -Ay. Where's Monks? -Monks -Mr Bloom took up his cutting. Time to get out. -Then I'll get the design, Mr Nannetti, he said, and you'll give it a -good place I know. -Monks -Yes, sir. -Three months' renewal. Want to get some wind off my chest first. Try -it anyhow. Rub in August good idea horseshow month. Ballsbridge. -Tourists over for the show. -A DAYFATHER -He walked on through the caseroom passing an old man, bowed, -spectacled, aproned. Old Monks, the dayfather. Queer lot of stuff he must -have put through his hands in his time obituary notices, pubs' ads, -speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. Nearing the end of his tether now. -Sober serious man with a bit in the savingsbank I'd say. Wife a good cook -and washer. Daughter working the machine in the parlour. Plain Jane, no -damn nonsense. -AND IT WAS THE FEAST OF THE PASSOVER -He stayed in his walk to watch a typesetter neatly distributing type. -Reads it backwards first. Quickly he does it. Must require some practice -that. mangiD kcirtaP. Poor papa with his hagadah book, reading -backwards with his finger to me. Pessach. Next year in Jerusalem. Dear, O -dear All that long business about that brought us out of the land of -Egypt and into the house of bondage ALLELUIA. SHEMA ISRAEL ADONAI ELOHENU. -No, that's the other. Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons. And then the -lamb and the cat and the dog and the stick and the water and the butcher. -And then the angel of death kills the butcher and he kills the ox and the -dog kills the cat. Sounds a bit silly till you come to look into it well. -Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. That's what life -is after all. How quickly he does that job. Practice makes perfect. Seems -to see with his fingers. -Mr Bloom passed on out of the clanking noises through the gallery on -to the landing. Now am I going to tram it out all the way and then catch -him out perhaps. Better phone him up first. Number? Yes. Same as Citron's -house. Twentyeight. Twentyeight double four. -ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP -He went down the house staircase. Who the deuce scrawled all over -those walls with matches? Looks as if they did it for a bet. Heavy greasy -smell there always is in those works. Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door -when I was there. -He took out his handkerchief to dab his nose. Citronlemon? Ah, the -soap I put there. Lose it out of that pocket. Putting back his -handkerchief he took out the soap and stowed it away, buttoned, into the -hip pocket of his trousers. -What perfume does your wife use? I could go home still tram -something I forgot. Just to see before dressing. No. Here. No. -A sudden screech of laughter came from the EVENING TELEGRAPH office. Know -who that is. What's up? Pop in a minute to phone. Ned Lambert it is. -He entered softly. -ERIN, GREEN GEM OF THE SILVER SEA -The ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to -the dusty windowpane. -Mr Dedalus, staring from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's -quizzing face, asked of it sourly -Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse? -Ned Lambert, seated on the table, read on -OR AGAIN, NOTE THE MEANDERINGS OF SOME PURLING RILL AS IT BABBLES ON -ITS WAY, THO' QUARRELLING WITH THE STONY OBSTACLES, TO THE TUMBLING WATERS -OF NEPTUNE'S BLUE DOMAIN, 'MID MOSSY BANKS, FANNED BY GENTLEST ZEPHYRS, -PLAYED ON BY THE GLORIOUS SUNLIGHT OR 'NEATH THE SHADOWS CAST O'ER ITS -PENSIVE BOSOM BY THE OVERARCHING LEAFAGE OF THE GIANTS OF THE FOREST. What -about that, Simon? he asked over the fringe of his newspaper. How's that -for high? -Changing his drink, Mr Dedalus said. -Ned Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper on his knees, repeating -THE PENSIVE BOSOM AND THE OVERARSING LEAFAGE. O boys O boys -And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Dedalus said, looking again -on the fireplace and to the window, and Marathon looked on the sea. -That will do, professor MacHugh cried from the window. I don't want to -hear any more of the stuff. -He ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and, -hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand. -High falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I -see. Rather upsets a man's day, a funeral does. He has influence they say. -Old Chatterton, the vicechancellor, is his granduncle or his -greatgranduncle. Close on ninety they say. Subleader for his death written -this long time perhaps. Living to spite them. Might go first himself. -Johnny, make room for your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre -Chatterton. Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. -Windfall when he kicks out. Alleluia. -Just another spasm, Ned Lambert said. -What is it? Mr Bloom asked. -A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh answered -with pomp of tone. OUR LOVELY LAND. -SHORT BUT TO THE POINT -Whose land? Mr Bloom said simply. -Most pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With an -accent on the whose. -Dan Dawson's land Mr Dedalus said. -Is it his speech last night? Mr Bloom asked. -Ned Lambert nodded. -But listen to this, he said. -The doorknob hit Mr Bloom in the small of the back as the door was -pushed in. -Excuse me, J. J. O'Molloy said, entering. -Mr Bloom moved nimbly aside. -I beg yours, he said. -Good day, Jack. -Come in. Come in. -Good day. -How are you, Dedalus? -Well. And yourself? -J. J. O'Molloy shook his head. -SAD -Cleverest fellow at the junior bar he used to be. Decline, poor chap. -That hectic flush spells finis for a man. Touch and go with him. What's in -the wind, I wonder. Money worry. -OR AGAIN IF WE BUT CLIMB THE SERRIED MOUNTAIN PEAKS. -You're looking extra. -Is the editor to be seen? J. J. O'Molloy asked, looking towards the -inner door. -Very much so, professor MacHugh said. To be seen and heard. He's in -his sanctum with Lenehan. -J. J. O'Molloy strolled to the sloping desk and began to turn back the -pink pages of the file. -Practice dwindling. A mighthavebeen. Losing heart. Gambling. Debts -of honour. Reaping the whirlwind. Used to get good retainers from D. and -T. Fitzgerald. Their wigs to show the grey matter. Brains on their sleeve -like the statue in Glasnevin. Believe he does some literary work for the -EXPRESS with Gabriel Conroy. Wellread fellow. Myles Crawford began on -the INDEPENDENT. Funny the way those newspaper men veer about when -they get wind of a new opening. Weathercocks. Hot and cold in the same -breath. Wouldn't know which to believe. One story good till you hear the -next. Go for one another baldheaded in the papers and then all blows over. -Hail fellow well met the next moment. -Ah, listen to this for God' sake, Ned Lambert pleaded. OR AGAIN IF WE -BUT CLIMB THE SERRIED MOUNTAIN PEAKS ... -Bombast the professor broke in testily. Enough of the inflated -windbag -PEAKS, Ned Lambert went on, TOWERING HIGH ON HIGH, TO BATHE OUR SOULS, -AS IT WERE ... -Bathe his lips, Mr Dedalus said. Blessed and eternal God Yes? Is he -taking anything for it? -AS 'TWERE, IN THE PEERLESS PANORAMA OF IRELAND'S PORTFOLIO, UNMATCHED, -DESPITE THEIR WELLPRAISED PROTOTYPES IN OTHER VAUNTED PRIZE REGIONS, FOR -VERY BEAUTY, OF BOSKY GROVE AND UNDULATING PLAIN AND LUSCIOUS PASTURELAND -OF VERNAL GREEN, STEEPED IN THE TRANSCENDENT TRANSLUCENT GLOW OF OUR MILD -MYSTERIOUS IRISH TWILIGHT ... -HIS NATIVE DORIC -The moon, professor MacHugh said. He forgot Hamlet. -THAT MANTLES THE VISTA FAR AND WIDE AND WAIT TILL THE GLOWING ORB OF -THE MOON SHINE FORTH TO IRRADIATE HER SILVER EFFULGENCE ... -O Mr Dedalus cried, giving vent to a hopeless groan. Shite and onions -That'll do, Ned. Life is too short. -He took off his silk hat and, blowing out impatiently his bushy -moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers. -Ned Lambert tossed the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight. An -instant after a hoarse bark of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's -unshaven blackspectacled face. -Doughy Daw he cried. -WHAT WETHERUP SAID -All very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it goes down like hot -cake that stuff. He was in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call -him Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well anyhow. Daughter engaged to that -chap in the inland revenue office with the motor. Hooked that nicely. -Entertainments. Open house. Big blowout. Wetherup always said that. Get -a grip of them by the stomach. -The inner door was opened violently and a scarlet beaked face, -crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. The bold blue eyes -stared about them and the harsh voice asked -What is it? -And here comes the sham squire himself professor MacHugh said grandly. -Getonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue the editor said in recognition. -Come, Ned, Mr Dedalus said, putting on his hat. I must get a drink -after that. -Drink the editor cried. No drinks served before mass. -Quite right too, Mr Dedalus said, going out. Come on, Ned. -Ned Lambert sidled down from the table. The editor's blue eyes roved -towards Mr Bloom's face, shadowed by a smile. -Will you join us, Myles? Ned Lambert asked. -MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED -North Cork militia the editor cried, striding to the mantelpiece. We -won every time North Cork and Spanish officers -Where was that, Myles? Ned Lambert asked with a reflective glance at -his toecaps. -In Ohio the editor shouted. -So it was, begad, Ned Lambert agreed. -Passing out he whispered to J. J. O'Molloy -Incipient jigs. Sad case. -Ohio the editor crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face. -My Ohio -A perfect cretic the professor said. Long, short and long. -O, HARP EOLIAN -He took a reel of dental floss from his waistcoat pocket and, breaking -off a piece, twanged it smartly between two and two of his resonant -unwashed teeth. -Bingbang, bangbang. -Mr Bloom, seeing the coast clear, made for the inner door. -Just a moment, Mr Crawford, he said. I just want to phone about an ad. -He went in. -What about that leader this evening? professor MacHugh asked, coming -to the editor and laying a firm hand on his shoulder. -That'll be all right, Myles Crawford said more calmly. Never you fret. -Hello, Jack. That's all right. -Good day, Myles, J. J. O'Molloy said, letting the pages he held slip -limply back on the file. Is that Canada swindle case on today? -The telephone whirred inside. -Twentyeight ... No, twenty ... Double four ... Yes. -SPOT THE WINNER -Lenehan came out of the inner office with SPORT'S tissues. -Who wants a dead cert for the Gold cup? he asked. Sceptre with O. -Madden up. -He tossed the tissues on to the table. -Screams of newsboys barefoot in the hall rushed near and the door -was flung open. -Hush, Lenehan said. I hear feetstoops. -Professor MacHugh strode across the room and seized the cringing -urchin by the collar as the others scampered out of the hall and down the -steps. The tissues rustled up in the draught, floated softly in the air -blue scrawls and under the table came to earth. -It wasn't me, sir. It was the big fellow shoved me, sir. -Throw him out and shut the door, the editor said. There's a hurricane -blowing. -Lenehan began to paw the tissues up from the floor, grunting as he -stooped twice. -Waiting for the racing special, sir, the newsboy said. It was Pat -Farrell shoved me, sir. -He pointed to two faces peering in round the doorframe. -Him, sir. -Out of this with you, professor MacHugh said gruffly. -He hustled the boy out and banged the door to. -J. J. O'Molloy turned the files crackingly over, murmuring, seeking -Continued on page six, column four. -Yes, EVENING TELEGRAPH here, Mr Bloom phoned from the inner office. Is -the boss ...? Yes, TELEGRAPH ... To where? Aha Which auction rooms? ... -Aha I see ... Right. I'll catch him. -A COLLISION ENSUES -The bell whirred again as he rang off. He came in quickly and -bumped against Lenehan who was struggling up with the second tissue. -PARDON, MONSIEUR, Lenehan said, clutching him for an instant and making -a grimace. -My fault, Mr Bloom said, suffering his grip. Are you hurt? I'm in a -hurry. -Knee, Lenehan said. -He made a comic face and whined, rubbing his knee -The accumulation of the ANNO DOMINI. -Sorry, Mr Bloom said. -He went to the door and, holding it ajar, paused. J. J. O'Molloy -slapped the heavy pages over. The noise of two shrill voices, a -mouthorgan, echoed in the bare hallway from the newsboys squatted on the -doorsteps -WE ARE THE BOYS OF WEXFORD -WHO FOUGHT WITH HEART AND HAND. -EXIT BLOOM -I'm just running round to Bachelor's walk, Mr Bloom said, about this ad -of Keyes's. Want to fix it up. They tell me he's round there in Dillon's. -He looked indecisively for a moment at their faces. The editor who, -leaning against the mantelshelf, had propped his head on his hand, -suddenly stretched forth an arm amply. -Begone he said. The world is before you. -Back in no time, Mr Bloom said, hurrying out. -J. J. O'Molloy took the tissues from Lenehan's hand and read them, -blowing them apart gently, without comment. -He'll get that advertisement, the professor said, staring through his -blackrimmed spectacles over the crossblind. Look at the young scamps after -him. -Show. Where? Lenehan cried, running to the window. -A STREET CORTEGE -Both smiled over the crossblind at the file of capering newsboys in Mr -Bloom's wake, the last zigzagging white on the breeze a mocking kite, a -tail of white bowknots. -Look at the young guttersnipe behind him hue and cry, Lenehan said, and -you'll kick. O, my rib risible Taking off his flat spaugs and the walk. -Small nines. Steal upon larks. -He began to mazurka in swift caricature across the floor on sliding -feet past the fireplace to J. J. O'Molloy who placed the tissues in his -receiving hands. -What's that? Myles Crawford said with a start. Where are the other two -gone? -Who? the professor said, turning. They're gone round to the Oval for a -drink. Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall. Came over last night. -Come on then, Myles Crawford said. Where's my hat? -He walked jerkily into the office behind, parting the vent of his jacket, -jingling his keys in his back pocket. They jingled then in the air and -against the wood as he locked his desk drawer. -He's pretty well on, professor MacHugh said in a low voice. -Seems to be, J. J. O'Molloy said, taking out a cigarettecase in -murmuring meditation, but it is not always as it seems. Who has the most -matches? -THE CALUMET OF PEACE -He offered a cigarette to the professor and took one himself. Lenehan -promptly struck a match for them and lit their cigarettes in turn. J. J. -O'Molloy opened his case again and offered it. -THANKY VOUS, Lenehan said, helping himself. -The editor came from the inner office, a straw hat awry on his brow. -He declaimed in song, pointing sternly at professor MacHugh -'TWAS RANK AND FAME THAT TEMPTED THEE, -'TWAS EMPIRE CHARMED THY HEART. -The professor grinned, locking his long lips. -Eh? You bloody old Roman empire? Myles Crawford said. -He took a cigarette from the open case. Lenehan, lighting it for him -with quick grace, said -Silence for my brandnew riddle -IMPERIUM ROMANUM, J. J. O'Molloy said gently. It sounds nobler than -British or Brixton. The word reminds one somehow of fat in the fire. -Myles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards the ceiling. -That's it, he said. We are the fat. You and I are the fat in the fire. -We haven't got the chance of a snowball in hell. -THE GRANDEUR THAT WAS ROME -Wait a moment, professor MacHugh said, raising two quiet claws. We -mustn't be led away by words, by sounds of words. We think of Rome, -imperial, imperious, imperative. -He extended elocutionary arms from frayed stained shirtcuffs, pausing -What was their civilisation? Vast, I allow but vile. Cloacae sewers. -The Jews in the wilderness and on the mountaintop said IT IS MEET TO BE -HERE. LET US BUILD AN ALTAR TO JEHOVAH. The Roman, like the Englishman who -follows in his footsteps, brought to every new shore on which he set his -foot on our shore he never set it only his cloacal obsession. He gazed -about him in his toga and he said IT IS MEET TO BE HERE. LET US CONSTRUCT -A WATERCLOSET. -Which they accordingly did do, Lenehan said. Our old ancient ancestors, -as we read in the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the running -stream. -They were nature's gentlemen, J. J. O'Molloy murmured. But we have -also Roman law. -And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh responded. -Do you know that story about chief baron Palles? J. J. O'Molloy asked. -It was at the royal university dinner. Everything was going -swimmingly ... -First my riddle, Lenehan said. Are you ready? -Mr O'Madden Burke, tall in copious grey of Donegal tweed, came in -from the hallway. Stephen Dedalus, behind him, uncovered as he entered. -ENTREZ, MES ENFANTS Lenehan cried. -I escort a suppliant, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously. Youth led by -Experience visits Notoriety. -How do you do? the editor said, holding out a hand. Come in. Your -governor is just gone. -Lenehan said to all -Silence What opera resembles a railwayline? Reflect, ponder, -excogitate, reply. -Stephen handed over the typed sheets, pointing to the title and signature. -Who? the editor asked. -Bit torn off. -Mr Garrett Deasy, Stephen said. -That old pelters, the editor said. Who tore it? Was he short taken? -ON SWIFT SAIL FLAMING -FROM STORM AND SOUTH -HE COMES, PALE VAMPIRE, -MOUTH TO MY MOUTH. -Good day, Stephen, the professor said, coming to peer over their -shoulders. Foot and mouth? Are you turned ...? -Bullockbefriending bard. -SHINDY IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT -Good day, sir, Stephen answered blushing. The letter is not mine. Mr -Garrett Deasy asked me to ... -O, I know him, Myles Crawford said, and I knew his wife too. The -bloodiest old tartar God ever made. By Jesus, she had the foot and mouth -disease and no mistake The night she threw the soup in the waiter's face -in the Star and Garter. Oho -A woman brought sin into the world. For Helen, the runaway wife of -Menelaus, ten years the Greeks. O'Rourke, prince of Breffni. -Is he a widower? Stephen asked. -Ay, a grass one, Myles Crawford said, his eye running down the -typescript. Emperor's horses. Habsburg. An Irishman saved his life on the -ramparts of Vienna. Don't you forget Maximilian Karl O'Donnell, graf -von Tirconnell in Ireland. Sent his heir over to make the king an Austrian -fieldmarshal now. Going to be trouble there one day. Wild geese. O yes, -every time. Don't you forget that -The moot point is did he forget it, J. J. O'Molloy said quietly, -turning a horseshoe paperweight. Saving princes is a thank you job. -Professor MacHugh turned on him. -And if not? he said. -I'll tell you how it was, Myles Crawford began. A Hungarian it was one -day ... -LOST CAUSES -NOBLE MARQUESS MENTIONED -We were always loyal to lost causes, the professor said. Success for us -is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. We were never loyal -to the successful. We serve them. I teach the blatant Latin language. I -speak the tongue of a race the acme of whose mentality is the maxim time -is money. Material domination. DOMINUS Lord Where is the spirituality? -Lord Jesus? Lord Salisbury? A sofa in a westend club. But the Greek -KYRIE ELEISON -A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long -lips. -The Greek he said again. KYRIOS Shining word The vowels the Semite -and the Saxon know not. KYRIE The radiance of the intellect. I ought to -profess Greek, the language of the mind. KYRIE ELEISON The closetmaker -and the cloacamaker will never be lords of our spirit. We are liege -subjects of the catholic chivalry of Europe that foundered at Trafalgar -and of the empire of the spirit, not an IMPERIUM, that went under with the -Athenian fleets at Aegospotami. Yes, yes. They went under. Pyrrhus, misled -by an oracle, made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece. -Loyal to a lost cause. -He strode away from them towards the window. -They went forth to battle, Mr O'Madden Burke said greyly, but they -always fell. -Boohoo Lenehan wept with a little noise. Owing to a brick received in -the latter half of the MATINEE. Poor, poor, poor Pyrrhus -He whispered then near Stephen's ear -LENEHAN'S LIMERICK -THERE'S A PONDEROUS PUNDIT MACHUGH -WHO WEARS GOGGLES OF EBONY HUE. -AS HE MOSTLY SEES DOUBLE -TO WEAR THEM WHY TROUBLE? -I CAN'T SEE THE JOE MILLER. CAN YOU? -In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. Whose mother is beastly dead. -Myles Crawford crammed the sheets into a sidepocket. -That'll be all right, he said. I'll read the rest after. That'll be all -right. -Lenehan extended his hands in protest. -But my riddle he said. What opera is like a railwayline? -Opera? Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled. -Lenehan announced gladly -THE ROSE OF CASTILE. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee -He poked Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the spleen. Mr O'Madden Burke -fell back with grace on his umbrella, feigning a gasp. -Help he sighed. I feel a strong weakness. -Lenehan, rising to tiptoe, fanned his face rapidly with the rustling -tissues. -The professor, returning by way of the files, swept his hand across -Stephen's and Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties. -Paris, past and present, he said. You look like communards. -Like fellows who had blown up the Bastile, J. J. O'Molloy said in quiet -mockery. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you? -You look as though you had done the deed. General Bobrikoff. -OMNIUM GATHERUM -We were only thinking about it, Stephen said. -All the talents, Myles Crawford said. Law, the classics ... -The turf, Lenehan put in. -Literature, the press. -If Bloom were here, the professor said. The gentle art of advertisement. -And Madam Bloom, Mr O'Madden Burke added. The vocal muse. Dublin's -prime favourite. -Lenehan gave a loud cough. -Ahem he said very softly. O, for a fresh of breath air I caught a -cold in the park. The gate was open. -YOU CAN DO IT -The editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen's shoulder. -I want you to write something for me, he said. Something with a bite in -it. You can do it. I see it in your face. IN THE LEXICON OF YOUTH ... -See it in your face. See it in your eye. Lazy idle little schemer. -Foot and mouth disease the editor cried in scornful invective. Great -nationalist meeting in BorrisinOssory. All balls Bulldosing the public -Give them something with a bite in it. Put us all into it, damn its soul. -Father, Son and Holy Ghost and Jakes M'Carthy. -We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O'Madden Burke said. -Stephen raised his eyes to the bold unheeding stare. -He wants you for the pressgang, J. J. O'Molloy said. -THE GREAT GALLAHER -You can do it, Myles Crawford repeated, clenching his hand in emphasis. -Wait a minute. We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher used to say when -he was on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Clarence. Gallaher, -that was a pressman for you. That was a pen. You know how he made his -mark? I'll tell you. That was the smartest piece of journalism ever known. -That was in eightyone, sixth of May, time of the invincibles, murder in -the Phoenix park, before you were born, I suppose. I'll show you. -He pushed past them to the files. -Look at here, he said turning. The NEW YORK WORLD cabled for a special. -Remember that time? -Professor MacHugh nodded. -NEW YORK WORLD, the editor said, excitedly pushing back his straw hat. -Where it took place. Tim Kelly, or Kavanagh I mean. Joe Brady and the -rest of them. Where SkintheGoat drove the car. Whole route, see? -SkintheGoat, Mr O'Madden Burke said. Fitzharris. He has that -cabman's shelter, they say, down there at Butt bridge. Holohan told me. -You know Holohan? -Hop and carry one, is it? Myles Crawford said. -And poor Gumley is down there too, so he told me, minding stones for -the corporation. A night watchman. -Stephen turned in surprise. -Gumley? he said. You don't say so? A friend of my father's, is it? -Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford cried angrily. Let Gumley mind -the stones, see they don't run away. Look at here. What did Ignatius -Gallaher do? I'll tell you. Inspiration of genius. Cabled right away. Have -you WEEKLY FREEMAN of March? Right. Have you got that? -He flung back pages of the files and stuck his finger on a point. -Take page four, advertisement for Bransome's coffee, let us say. Have -you got that? Right. -The telephone whirred. -A DISTANT VOICE -I'll answer it, the professor said, going. -B is parkgate. Good. -His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating. -T is viceregal lodge. C is where murder took place. K is Knockmaroon -gate. -The loose flesh of his neck shook like a cock's wattles. An illstarched -dicky jutted up and with a rude gesture he thrust it back into his -waistcoat. -Hello? EVENING TELEGRAPH here ... Hello?... Who's there? ... -Yes ... Yes ... Yes. -F to P is the route SkintheGoat drove the car for an alibi, Inchicore, -Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. F.A.B.P. Got that? -X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street. -The professor came to the inner door. -Bloom is at the telephone, he said. -Tell him go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Davy's publichouse, -see? -CLEVER, VERY -Clever, Lenehan said. Very. -Gave it to them on a hot plate, Myles Crawford said, the whole bloody -history. -Nightmare from which you will never awake. -I saw it, the editor said proudly. I was present. Dick Adams, the -besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord ever put the breath of life in, and -myself. -Lenehan bowed to a shape of air, announcing -Madam, I'm Adam. And Able was I ere I saw Elba. -History Myles Crawford cried. The Old Woman of Prince's street was -there first. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth over that. Out of an -advertisement. Gregor Grey made the design for it. That gave him the leg -up. Then Paddy Hooper worked Tay Pay who took him on to the STAR. -Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. That's press. That's talent. Pyatt He -was all their daddies -The father of scare journalism, Lenehan confirmed, and the -brotherinlaw of Chris Callinan. -Hello? ... Are you there? ... Yes, he's here still. Come across -yourself. -Where do you find a pressman like that now, eh? the editor cried. -He flung the pages down. -Clamn dever, Lenehan said to Mr O'Madden Burke. -Very smart, Mr O'Madden Burke said. -Professor MacHugh came from the inner office. -Talking about the invincibles, he said, did you see that some hawkers -were up before the recorder ... -O yes, J. J. O'Molloy said eagerly. Lady Dudley was walking home -through the park to see all the trees that were blown down by that cyclone -last year and thought she'd buy a view of Dublin. And it turned out to be -a commemoration postcard of Joe Brady or Number One or SkintheGoat. -Right outside the viceregal lodge, imagine -They're only in the hook and eye department, Myles Crawford said. -Psha Press and the bar Where have you a man now at the bar like those -fellows, like Whiteside, like Isaac Butt, like silvertongued O'Hagan. Eh? -Ah, bloody nonsense. Psha Only in the halfpenny place. -His mouth continued to twitch unspeaking in nervous curls of disdain. -Would anyone wish that mouth for her kiss? How do you know? Why did -you write it then? -RHYMES AND REASONS -Mouth, south. Is the mouth south someway? Or the south a mouth? -Must be some. South, pout, out, shout, drouth. Rhymes two men dressed -the same, looking the same, two by two. -. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .LA TUA PACE -. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .CHE PARLAR TI PIACE -. . . . .MENTREM CHE IL VENTO, COME FA, SI TACE. -He saw them three by three, approaching girls, in green, in rose, in -russet, entwining, PER L'AER PERSO, in mauve, in purple, QUELLA PACIFICA -ORIAFIAMMA, gold of oriflamme, DI RIMIRAR FE PIU ARDENTI. But I old men, -penitent, leadenfooted, underdarkneath the night mouth south tomb womb. -Speak up for yourself, Mr O'Madden Burke said. -SUFFICIENT FOR THE DAY ... -J. J. O'Molloy, smiling palely, took up the gage. -My dear Myles, he said, flinging his cigarette aside, you put a false -construction on my words. I hold no brief, as at present advised, for the -third profession qua profession but your Cork legs are running away with -you. Why not bring in Henry Grattan and Flood and Demosthenes and -Edmund Burke? Ignatius Gallaher we all know and his Chapelizod boss, -Harmsworth of the farthing press, and his American cousin of the Bowery -guttersheet not to mention PADDY KELLY'S BUDGET, PUE'S OCCURRENCES and our -watchful friend THE SKIBBEREEN EAGLE. Why bring in a master of forensic -eloquence like Whiteside? Sufficient for the day is the newspaper thereof. -LINKS WITH BYGONE DAYS OF YORE -Grattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, the editor cried in his -face. Irish volunteers. Where are you now? Established . Dr Lucas. -Who have you now like John Philpot Curran? Psha -Well, J. J. O'Molloy said, Bushe K.C., for example. -Bushe? the editor said. Well, yes Bushe, yes. He has a strain of it in -his blood. Kendal Bushe or I mean Seymour Bushe. -He would have been on the bench long ago, the professor said, only -for ... But no matter. -J. J. O'Molloy turned to Stephen and said quietly and slowly -One of the most polished periods I think I ever listened to in my life -fell from the lips of Seymour Bushe. It was in that case of fratricide, -the Childs murder case. Bushe defended him. -AND IN THE PORCHES OF MINE EAR DID POUR. -By the way how did he find that out? He died in his sleep. Or the -other story, beast with two backs? -What was that? the professor asked. -ITALIA, MAGISTRA ARTIUM -He spoke on the law of evidence, J. J. O'Molloy said, of Roman justice -as contrasted with the earlier Mosaic code, the LEX TALIONIS. And he cited -the Moses of Michelangelo in the vatican. -Ha. -A few wellchosen words, Lenehan prefaced. Silence -Pause. J. J. O'Molloy took out his cigarettecase. -False lull. Something quite ordinary. -Messenger took out his matchbox thoughtfully and lit his cigar. -I have often thought since on looking back over that strange time that -it was that small act, trivial in itself, that striking of that match, -that determined the whole aftercourse of both our lives. -A POLISHED PERIOD -J. J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words -He said of it THAT STONY EFFIGY IN FROZEN MUSIC, HORNED AND TERRIBLE, -OF THE HUMAN FORM DIVINE, THAT ETERNAL SYMBOL OF WISDOM AND OF PROPHECY -WHICH, IF AUGHT THAT THE IMAGINATION OR THE HAND OF SCULPTOR HAS WROUGHT -IN MARBLE OF SOULTRANSFIGURED AND OF SOULTRANSFIGURING DESERVES TO LIVE, -DESERVES TO LIVE. -His slim hand with a wave graced echo and fall. -Fine Myles Crawford said at once. -The divine afflatus, Mr O'Madden Burke said. -You like it? J. J. O'Molloy asked Stephen. -Stephen, his blood wooed by grace of language and gesture, blushed. -He took a cigarette from the case. J. J. O'Molloy offered his case to -Myles Crawford. Lenehan lit their cigarettes as before and took his -trophy, saying -Muchibus thankibus. -A MAN OF HIGH MORALE -Professor Magennis was speaking to me about you, J. J. O'Molloy said to -Stephen. What do you think really of that hermetic crowd, the opal hush -poets A. E. the mastermystic? That Blavatsky woman started it. She was a -nice old bag of tricks. A. E. has been telling some yankee interviewer -that you came to him in the small hours of the morning to ask him about -planes of consciousness. Magennis thinks you must have been pulling -A. E.'s leg. He is a man of the very highest morale, Magennis. -Speaking about me. What did he say? What did he say? What did he -say about me? Don't ask. -No, thanks, professor MacHugh said, waving the cigarettecase aside. -Wait a moment. Let me say one thing. The finest display of oratory I ever -heard was a speech made by John F Taylor at the college historical -society. Mr Justice Fitzgibbon, the present lord justice of appeal, had -spoken and the paper under debate was an essay new for those days, -advocating the revival of the Irish tongue. -He turned towards Myles Crawford and said -You know Gerald Fitzgibbon. Then you can imagine the style of his -discourse. -He is sitting with Tim Healy, J. J. O'Molloy said, rumour has it, on -the Trinity college estates commission. -He is sitting with a sweet thing, Myles Crawford said, in a child's -frock. Go on. Well? -It was the speech, mark you, the professor said, of a finished orator, -full of courteous haughtiness and pouring in chastened diction I will not -say the vials of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the -new movement. It was then a new movement. We were weak, therefore -worthless. -He closed his long thin lips an instant but, eager to be on, raised an -outspanned hand to his spectacles and, with trembling thumb and -ringfinger touching lightly the black rims, steadied them to a new focus. -IMPROMPTU -In ferial tone he addressed J. J. O'Molloy -Taylor had come there, you must know, from a sickbed. That he had -prepared his speech I do not believe for there was not even one -shorthandwriter in the hall. His dark lean face had a growth of shaggy -beard round it. He wore a loose white silk neckcloth and altogether he -looked though he was not a dying man. -His gaze turned at once but slowly from J. J. O'Molloy's towards -Stephen's face and then bent at once to the ground, seeking. His unglazed -linen collar appeared behind his bent head, soiled by his withering hair. -Still seeking, he said -When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply. -Briefly, as well as I can bring them to mind, his words were these. -He raised his head firmly. His eyes bethought themselves once more. -Witless shellfish swam in the gross lenses to and fro, seeking outlet. -He began -MR CHAIRMAN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN GREAT WAS MY ADMIRATION IN LISTENING -TO THE REMARKS ADDRESSED TO THE YOUTH OF IRELAND A MOMENT SINCE BY MY -LEARNED FRIEND. IT SEEMED TO ME THAT I HAD BEEN TRANSPORTED INTO A COUNTRY -FAR AWAY FROM THIS COUNTRY, INTO AN AGE REMOTE FROM THIS AGE, THAT I STOOD -IN ANCIENT EGYPT AND THAT I WAS LISTENING TO THE SPEECH OF SOME HIGHPRIEST -OF THAT LAND ADDRESSED TO THE YOUTHFUL MOSES. -His listeners held their cigarettes poised to hear, their smokes -ascending in frail stalks that flowered with his speech. And let our -crooked smokes. Noble words coming. Look out. Could you try your hand at -it yourself? -AND IT SEEMED TO ME THAT I HEARD THE VOICE OF THAT EGYPTIAN HIGHPRIEST -RAISED IN A TONE OF LIKE HAUGHTINESS AND LIKE PRIDE. I HEARD HIS WORDS AND -THEIR MEANING WAS REVEALED TO ME. -FROM THE FATHERS -It was revealed to me that those things are good which yet are -corrupted which neither if they were supremely good nor unless they were -good could be corrupted. Ah, curse you That's saint Augustine. -WHY WILL YOU JEWS NOT ACCEPT OUR CULTURE, OUR RELIGION AND OUR -LANGUAGE? YOU ARE A TRIBE OF NOMAD HERDSMEN WE ARE A MIGHTY PEOPLE. YOU -HAVE NO CITIES NOR NO WEALTH OUR CITIES ARE HIVES OF HUMANITY AND OUR -GALLEYS, TRIREME AND QUADRIREME, LADEN WITH ALL MANNER MERCHANDISE FURROW -THE WATERS OF THE KNOWN GLOBE. YOU HAVE BUT EMERGED FROM PRIMITIVE -CONDITIONS WE HAVE A LITERATURE, A PRIESTHOOD, AN AGELONG HISTORY AND A -POLITY. -Nile. -Child, man, effigy. -By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes a man -supple in combat stonehorned, stonebearded, heart of stone. -YOU PRAY TO A LOCAL AND OBSCURE IDOL OUR TEMPLES, MAJESTIC AND -MYSTERIOUS, ARE THE ABODES OF ISIS AND OSIRIS, OF HORUS AND AMMON RA. -YOURS SERFDOM, AWE AND HUMBLENESS OURS THUNDER AND THE SEAS. ISRAEL IS -WEAK AND FEW ARE HER CHILDREN EGYPT IS AN HOST AND TERRIBLE ARE HER ARMS. -VAGRANTS AND DAYLABOURERS ARE YOU CALLED THE WORLD TREMBLES AT OUR NAME. -A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech. He lifted his voice above it -boldly -BUT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HAD THE YOUTHFUL MOSES LISTENED TO AND -ACCEPTED THAT VIEW OF LIFE, HAD HE BOWED HIS HEAD AND BOWED HIS WILL AND -BOWED HIS SPIRIT BEFORE THAT ARROGANT ADMONITION HE WOULD NEVER HAVE -BROUGHT THE CHOSEN PEOPLE OUT OF THEIR HOUSE OF BONDAGE, NOR FOLLOWED THE -PILLAR OF THE CLOUD BY DAY. HE WOULD NEVER HAVE SPOKEN WITH THE ETERNAL -AMID LIGHTNINGS ON SINAI'S MOUNTAINTOP NOR EVER HAVE COME DOWN WITH THE -LIGHT OF INSPIRATION SHINING IN HIS COUNTENANCE AND BEARING IN HIS ARMS -THE TABLES OF THE LAW, GRAVEN IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE OUTLAW. -He ceased and looked at them, enjoying a silence. -OMINOUSFOR HIM -J. J. O'Molloy said not without regret -And yet he died without having entered the land of promise. -A suddenatthemomentthoughfromlingeringillness -oftenpreviouslyexpectorateddemise, Lenehan added. And with a -great future behind him. -The troop of bare feet was heard rushing along the hallway and -pattering up the staircase. -That is oratory, the professor said uncontradicted. Gone with the wind. -Hosts at Mullaghmast and Tara of the kings. Miles of ears of porches. -The tribune's words, howled and scattered to the four winds. A people -sheltered within his voice. Dead noise. Akasic records of all that ever -anywhere wherever was. Love and laud him me no more. -I have money. -Gentlemen, Stephen said. As the next motion on the agenda paper may I -suggest that the house do now adjourn? -You take my breath away. It is not perchance a French compliment? Mr -O'Madden Burke asked. 'Tis the hour, methinks, when the winejug, -metaphorically speaking, is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry. -That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved. All that are in favour -say ay, Lenehan announced. The contrary no. I declare it carried. To which -particular boosing shed? ... My casting vote is Mooney's -He led the way, admonishing -We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not? Yes, -we will not. By no manner of means. -Mr O'Madden Burke, following close, said with an ally's lunge of his -umbrella -Lay on, Macduff -Chip of the old block the editor cried, clapping Stephen on the -shoulder. Let us go. Where are those blasted keys? -He fumbled in his pocket pulling out the crushed typesheets. -Foot and mouth. I know. That'll be all right. That'll go in. Where are -they? That's all right. -He thrust the sheets back and went into the inner office. -LET US HOPE -J. J. O'Molloy, about to follow him in, said quietly to Stephen -I hope you will live to see it published. Myles, one moment. -He went into the inner office, closing the door behind him. -Come along, Stephen, the professor said. That is fine, isn't it? It has -the prophetic vision. FUIT ILIUM The sack of windy Troy. Kingdoms of this -world. The masters of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today. -The first newsboy came pattering down the stairs at their heels and -rushed out into the street, yelling -Racing special -Dublin. I have much, much to learn. -They turned to the left along Abbey street. -I have a vision too, Stephen said. -Yes? the professor said, skipping to get into step. Crawford will -follow. -Another newsboy shot past them, yelling as he ran -Racing special -DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN -Dubliners. -Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said, elderly and pious, have lived fifty -and fiftythree years in Fumbally's lane. -Where is that? the professor asked. -Off Blackpitts, Stephen said. -Damp night reeking of hungry dough. Against the wall. Face -glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. Frantic hearts. Akasic records. -Quicker, darlint -On now. Dare it. Let there be life. -They want to see the views of Dublin from the top of Nelson's pillar. -They save up three and tenpence in a red tin letterbox moneybox. They -shake out the threepenny bits and sixpences and coax out the pennies with -the blade of a knife. Two and three in silver and one and seven in -coppers. They put on their bonnets and best clothes and take their -umbrellas for fear it may come on to rain. -Wise virgins, professor MacHugh said. -LIFE ON THE RAW -They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at -the north city diningrooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, -proprietress ... They purchase four and twenty ripe plums from a girl at -the foot of Nelson's pillar to take off the thirst of the brawn. They give -two threepenny bits to the gentleman at the turnstile and begin to waddle -slowly up the winding staircase, grunting, encouraging each other, afraid -of the dark, panting, one asking the other have you the brawn, praising -God and the Blessed Virgin, threatening to come down, peeping at the -airslits. Glory be to God. They had no idea it was that high. -Their names are Anne Kearns and Florence MacCabe. Anne Kearns -has the lumbago for which she rubs on Lourdes water, given her by a lady -who got a bottleful from a passionist father. Florence MacCabe takes a -crubeen and a bottle of double X for supper every Saturday. -Antithesis, the professor said nodding twice. Vestal virgins. I can see -them. What's keeping our friend? -He turned. -A bevy of scampering newsboys rushed down the steps, scattering in -all directions, yelling, their white papers fluttering. Hard after them -Myles Crawford appeared on the steps, his hat aureoling his scarlet face, -talking with J. J. O'Molloy. -Come along, the professor cried, waving his arm. -He set off again to walk by Stephen's side. -RETURN OF BLOOM -Yes, he said. I see them. -Mr Bloom, breathless, caught in a whirl of wild newsboys near the -offices of the IRISH CATHOLIC AND DUBLIN PENNY JOURNAL, called -Mr Crawford A moment -TELEGRAPH Racing special -What is it? Myles Crawford said, falling back a pace. -A newsboy cried in Mr Bloom's face -Terrible tragedy in Rathmines A child bit by a bellows -INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR -Just this ad, Mr Bloom said, pushing through towards the steps, -puffing, and taking the cutting from his pocket. I spoke with Mr Keyes -just now. He'll give a renewal for two months, he says. After he'll see. -But he wants a par to call attention in the TELEGRAPH too, the Saturday -pink. And he wants it copied if it's not too late I told councillor -Nannetti from the KILKENNY PEOPLE. I can have access to it in the national -library. House of keys, don't you see? His name is Keyes. It's a play on -the name. But he practically promised he'd give the renewal. But he wants -just a little puff. What will I tell him, Mr Crawford? -K.M.A. -Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing out -his arm for emphasis. Tell him that straight from the stable. -A bit nervy. Look out for squalls. All off for a drink. Arm in arm. -Lenehan's yachting cap on the cadge beyond. Usual blarney. Wonder is -that young Dedalus the moving spirit. Has a good pair of boots on him -today. Last time I saw him he had his heels on view. Been walking in muck -somewhere. Careless chap. What was he doing in Irishtown? -Well, Mr Bloom said, his eyes returning, if I can get the design I -suppose it's worth a short par. He'd give the ad, I think. I'll tell -him ... -K.M.R.I.A. -He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried loudly over his -shoulder. Any time he likes, tell him. -While Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he strode -on jerkily. -RAISING THE WIND -NULLA BONA, Jack, he said, raising his hand to his chin. I'm up to -here. I've been through the hoop myself. I was looking for a fellow to -back a bill for me no later than last week. Sorry, Jack. You must take the -will for the deed. With a heart and a half if I could raise the wind -anyhow. -J. J. O'Molloy pulled a long face and walked on silently. They caught -up on the others and walked abreast. -When they have eaten the brawn and the bread and wiped their twenty -fingers in the paper the bread was wrapped in they go nearer to the -railings. -Something for you, the professor explained to Myles Crawford. Two old -Dublin women on the top of Nelson's pillar. -SOME COLUMN -THAT'S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID -That's new, Myles Crawford said. That's copy. Out for the waxies -Dargle. Two old trickies, what? -But they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen went on. They see the -roofs and argue about where the different churches are Rathmines' blue -dome, Adam and Eve's, saint Laurence O'Toole's. But it makes them giddy to -look so they pull up their skirts ... -THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES -Easy all, Myles Crawford said. No poetic licence. We're in the -archdiocese here. -And settle down on their striped petticoats, peering up at the statue -of the onehandled adulterer. -Onehandled adulterer the professor cried. I like that. I see the idea. -I see what you mean. -DAMES DONATE DUBLIN'S CITS SPEEDPILLS -VELOCITOUS AEROLITHS, BELIEF -It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said, and they are too -tired to look up or down or to speak. They put the bag of plums between -them and eat the plums out of it, one after another, wiping off with their -handkerchiefs the plumjuice that dribbles out of their mouths and spitting -the plumstones slowly out between the railings. -He gave a sudden loud young laugh as a close. Lenehan and Mr O'Madden -Burke, hearing, turned, beckoned and led on across towards Mooney's. -Finished? Myles Crawford said. So long as they do no worse. -SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON -PROBOSCIS. SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS. ITHACANS -VOW PEN IS CHAMP. -You remind me of Antisthenes, the professor said, a disciple of -Gorgias, the sophist. It is said of him that none could tell if he were -bitterer against others or against himself. He was the son of a noble and -a bondwoman. And he wrote a book in which he took away the palm of beauty -from Argive Helen and handed it to poor Penelope. -Poor Penelope. Penelope Rich. -They made ready to cross O'Connell street. -HELLO THERE, CENTRAL -At various points along the eight lines tramcars with motionless -trolleys stood in their tracks, bound for or from Rathmines, Rathfarnham, -Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and -Sandymount Tower, Donnybrook, Palmerston Park and Upper Rathmines, -all still, becalmed in short circuit. Hackney cars, cabs, delivery -waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with -rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly. -WHAT?AND LIKEWISEWHERE? -But what do you call it? Myles Crawford asked. Where did they get the -plums? -VIRGILIAN, SAYS PEDAGOGUE. -SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR OLD MAN MOSES. -Call it, wait, the professor said, opening his long lips wide to -reflect. Call it, let me see. Call it DEUS NOBIS HAEC OTIA FECIT. -No, Stephen said. I call it A PISGAH SIGHT OF PALESTINE OR THE PARABLE -OF THE PLUMS. -I see, the professor said. -He laughed richly. -I see, he said again with new pleasure. Moses and the promised land. We -gave him that idea, he added to J. J. O'Molloy. -HORATIO IS CYNOSURE THIS FAIR JUNE DAY -J. J. O'Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the statue and -held his peace. -I see, the professor said. -He halted on sir John Gray's pavement island and peered aloft at Nelson -through the meshes of his wry smile. -DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING -FOR FRISKY FRUMPS. ANNE WIMBLES, FLO -WANGLESYET CAN YOU BLAME THEM? -Onehandled adulterer, he said smiling grimly. That tickles me, I must -say. -Tickled the old ones too, Myles Crawford said, if the God Almighty's -truth was known. -Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl -shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother. Some school treat. -Bad for their tummies. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty -the King. God. Save. Our. Sitting on his throne sucking red jujubes white. -A sombre Y.M.C.A. young man, watchful among the warm sweet -fumes of Graham Lemon's, placed a throwaway in a hand of Mr Bloom. -Heart to heart talks. -Bloo ... Me? No. -Blood of the Lamb. -His slow feet walked him riverward, reading. Are you saved? All are -washed in the blood of the lamb. God wants blood victim. Birth, hymen, -martyr, war, foundation of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, -druids' altars. Elijah is coming. Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the -church in Zion is coming. -IS COMING IS COMING IS COMING -ALL HEARTILY WELCOME. -Paying game. Torry and Alexander last year. Polygamy. His wife will -put the stopper on that. Where was that ad some Birmingham firm the -luminous crucifix. Our Saviour. Wake up in the dead of night and see him -on the wall, hanging. Pepper's ghost idea. Iron nails ran in. -Phosphorus it must be done with. If you leave a bit of codfish for -instance. I could see the bluey silver over it. Night I went down to the -pantry in the kitchen. Don't like all the smells in it waiting to rush -out. What was it she wanted? The Malaga raisins. Thinking of Spain. Before -Rudy was born. The phosphorescence, that bluey greeny. Very good for the -brain. -From Butler's monument house corner he glanced along Bachelor's -walk. Dedalus' daughter there still outside Dillon's auctionrooms. Must be -selling off some old furniture. Knew her eyes at once from the father. -Lobbing about waiting for him. Home always breaks up when the mother -goes. Fifteen children he had. Birth every year almost. That's in their -theology or the priest won't give the poor woman the confession, the -absolution. Increase and multiply. Did you ever hear such an idea? Eat you -out of house and home. No families themselves to feed. Living on the fat -of the land. Their butteries and larders. I'd like to see them do the -black fast Yom Kippur. Crossbuns. One meal and a collation for fear he'd -collapse on the altar. A housekeeper of one of those fellows if you could -pick it out of her. Never pick it out of her. Like getting l.s.d. out of -him. Does himself well. No guests. All for number one. Watching his water. -Bring your own bread and butter. His reverence mum's the word. -Good Lord, that poor child's dress is in flitters. Underfed she looks -too. Potatoes and marge, marge and potatoes. It's after they feel it. -Proof of the pudding. Undermines the constitution. -As he set foot on O'Connell bridge a puffball of smoke plumed up -from the parapet. Brewery barge with export stout. England. Sea air sours -it, I heard. Be interesting some day get a pass through Hancock to see the -brewery. Regular world in itself. Vats of porter wonderful. Rats get in -too. Drink themselves bloated as big as a collie floating. Dead drunk on -the porter. Drink till they puke again like christians. Imagine drinking -that Rats vats. Well, of course, if we knew all the things. -Looking down he saw flapping strongly, wheeling between the gaunt -quaywalls, gulls. Rough weather outside. If I threw myself down? -Reuben J's son must have swallowed a good bellyful of that sewage. One and -eightpence too much. Hhhhm. It's the droll way he comes out with the -things. Knows how to tell a story too. -They wheeled lower. Looking for grub. Wait. -He threw down among them a crumpled paper ball. Elijah thirtytwo -feet per sec is com. Not a bit. The ball bobbed unheeded on the wake of -swells, floated under by the bridgepiers. Not such damn fools. Also the -day I threw that stale cake out of the Erin's King picked it up in the -wake fifty yards astern. Live by their wits. They wheeled, flapping. -THE HUNGRY FAMISHED GULL -FLAPS O'ER THE WATERS DULL. -That is how poets write, the similar sounds. But then Shakespeare has -no rhymes blank verse. The flow of the language it is. The thoughts. -Solemn. -HAMLET, I AM THY FATHER'S SPIRIT -DOOMED FOR A CERTAIN TIME TO WALK THE EARTH. -Two apples a penny Two for a penny -His gaze passed over the glazed apples serried on her stand. -Australians they must be this time of year. Shiny peels polishes them up -with a rag or a handkerchief. -Wait. Those poor birds. -He halted again and bought from the old applewoman two Banbury -cakes for a penny and broke the brittle paste and threw its fragments down -into the Liffey. See that? The gulls swooped silently, two, then all from -their heights, pouncing on prey. Gone. Every morsel. -Aware of their greed and cunning he shook the powdery crumb from his -hands. They never expected that. Manna. Live on fish, fishy flesh -they have, all seabirds, gulls, seagoose. Swans from Anna Liffey swim -down here sometimes to preen themselves. No accounting for tastes. -Wonder what kind is swanmeat. Robinson Crusoe had to live on them. -They wheeled flapping weakly. I'm not going to throw any more. -Penny quite enough. Lot of thanks I get. Not even a caw. They spread foot -and mouth disease too. If you cram a turkey say on chestnutmeal it tastes -like that. Eat pig like pig. But then why is it that saltwater fish are -not salty? How is that? -His eyes sought answer from the river and saw a rowboat rock at anchor -on the treacly swells lazily its plastered board. -KINO'S -TROUSERS -Good idea that. Wonder if he pays rent to the corporation. How can -you own water really? It's always flowing in a stream, never the same, -which in the stream of life we trace. Because life is a stream. All kinds -of places are good for ads. That quack doctor for the clap used to be -stuck up in all the greenhouses. Never see it now. Strictly confidential. -Dr Hy Franks. Didn't cost him a red like Maginni the dancing master self -advertisement. Got fellows to stick them up or stick them up himself for -that matter on the q. t. running in to loosen a button. Flybynight. Just -the place too. POST NO BILLS. POST PILLS. Some chap with a dose -burning him. -If he ...? -O -Eh? -No ... No. -No, no. I don't believe it. He wouldn't surely? -No, no. -Mr Bloom moved forward, raising his troubled eyes. Think no more about -that. After one. Timeball on the ballastoffice is down. Dunsink time. -Fascinating little book that is of sir Robert Ball's. Parallax. I never -exactly understood. There's a priest. Could ask him. Par it's Greek -parallel, parallax. Met him pike hoses she called it till I told her about -the transmigration. O rocks -Mr Bloom smiled O rocks at two windows of the ballastoffice. She's -right after all. Only big words for ordinary things on account of the -sound. She's not exactly witty. Can be rude too. Blurt out what I was -thinking. Still, I don't know. She used to say Ben Dollard had a base -barreltone voice. He has legs like barrels and you'd think he was singing -into a barrel. Now, isn't that wit. They used to call him big Ben. Not -half as witty as calling him base barreltone. Appetite like an albatross. -Get outside of a baron of beef. Powerful man he was at stowing away number -one Bass. Barrel of Bass. See? It all works out. -A procession of whitesmocked sandwichmen marched slowly towards -him along the gutter, scarlet sashes across their boards. Bargains. Like -that priest they are this morning we have sinned we have suffered. He -read the scarlet letters on their five tall white hats H. E. L. Y. S. -Wisdom Hely's. Y lagging behind drew a chunk of bread from under his -foreboard, crammed it into his mouth and munched as he walked. Our staple -food. Three bob a day, walking along the gutters, street after street. -Just keep skin and bone together, bread and skilly. They are not Boyl -no, M Glade's men. Doesn't bring in any business either. I suggested -to him about a transparent showcart with two smart girls sitting -inside writing letters, copybooks, envelopes, blottingpaper. I bet that -would have caught on. Smart girls writing something catch the eye at once. -Everyone dying to know what she's writing. Get twenty of them round you -if you stare at nothing. Have a finger in the pie. Women too. Curiosity. -Pillar of salt. Wouldn't have it of course because he didn't think -of it himself first. Or the inkbottle I suggested with a false stain -of black celluloid. His ideas for ads like Plumtree's potted under -the obituaries, cold meat department. You can't lick 'em. What? Our -envelopes. Hello, Jones, where are you going? Can't stop, Robinson, -I am hastening to purchase the only reliable inkeraser KANSELL, -sold by Hely's Ltd, Dame street. Well out of that ruck I am. -Devil of a job it was collecting accounts of those convents. Tranquilla -convent. That was a nice nun there, really sweet face. Wimple suited her -small head. Sister? Sister? I am sure she was crossed in love by her eyes. -Very hard to bargain with that sort of a woman. I disturbed her at her -devotions that morning. But glad to communicate with the outside world. -Our great day, she said. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Sweet name -too caramel. She knew I, I think she knew by the way she. If she had -married she would have changed. I suppose they really were short of -money. Fried everything in the best butter all the same. No lard for them. -My heart's broke eating dripping. They like buttering themselves in and -out. Molly tasting it, her veil up. Sister? Pat Claffey, the pawnbroker's -daughter. It was a nun they say invented barbed wire. -He crossed Westmoreland street when apostrophe S had plodded by. -Rover cycleshop. Those races are on today. How long ago is that? Year -Phil Gilligan died. We were in Lombard street west. Wait was in Thom's. -Got the job in Wisdom Hely's year we married. Six years. Ten years ago -ninetyfour he died yes that's right the big fire at Arnott's. Val Dillon -was lord mayor. The Glencree dinner. Alderman Robert O'Reilly emptying the -port into his soup before the flag fell. Bobbob lapping it for the inner -alderman. Couldn't hear what the band played. For what we have already -received may the Lord make us. Milly was a kiddy then. Molly had that -elephantgrey dress with the braided frogs. Mantailored with selfcovered -buttons. She didn't like it because I sprained my ankle first day she wore -choir picnic at the Sugarloaf. As if that. Old Goodwin's tall hat done up -with some sticky stuff. Flies' picnic too. Never put a dress on her back -like it. Fitted her like a glove, shoulders and hips. Just beginning to -plump it out well. Rabbitpie we had that day. People looking after her. -Happy. Happier then. Snug little room that was with the red -wallpaper. Dockrell's, one and ninepence a dozen. Milly's tubbing night. -American soap I bought elderflower. Cosy smell of her bathwater. Funny -she looked soaped all over. Shapely too. Now photography. Poor papa's -daguerreotype atelier he told me of. Hereditary taste. -He walked along the curbstone. -Stream of life. What was the name of that priestylooking chap was -always squinting in when he passed? Weak eyes, woman. Stopped in -Citron's saint Kevin's parade. Pen something. Pendennis? My memory is -getting. Pen ...? Of course it's years ago. Noise of the trams probably. -Well, if he couldn't remember the dayfather's name that he sees every day. -Bartell d'Arcy was the tenor, just coming out then. Seeing her home -after practice. Conceited fellow with his waxedup moustache. Gave her that -song WINDS THAT BLOW FROM THE SOUTH. -Windy night that was I went to fetch her there was that lodge meeting -on about those lottery tickets after Goodwin's concert in the supperroom -or oakroom of the Mansion house. He and I behind. Sheet of her music blew -out of my hand against the High school railings. Lucky it didn't. Thing -like that spoils the effect of a night for her. Professor Goodwin linking -her in front. Shaky on his pins, poor old sot. His farewell concerts. -Positively last appearance on any stage. May be for months and may be for -never. Remember her laughing at the wind, her blizzard collar up. Corner -of Harcourt road remember that gust. Brrfoo Blew up all her skirts and -her boa nearly smothered old Goodwin. She did get flushed in the wind. -Remember when we got home raking up the fire and frying up those pieces -of lap of mutton for her supper with the Chutney sauce she liked. And the -mulled rum. Could see her in the bedroom from the hearth unclamping the -busk of her stays white. -Swish and soft flop her stays made on the bed. Always warm from -her. Always liked to let her self out. Sitting there after till near two -taking out her hairpins. Milly tucked up in beddyhouse. Happy. Happy. -That was the night ... -O, Mr Bloom, how do you do? -O, how do you do, Mrs Breen? -No use complaining. How is Molly those times? Haven't seen her for ages. -In the pink, Mr Bloom said gaily. Milly has a position down in -Mullingar, you know. -Go away Isn't that grand for her? -Yes. In a photographer's there. Getting on like a house on fire. How are -all your charges? -All on the baker's list, Mrs Breen said. -How many has she? No other in sight. -You're in black, I see. You have no ... -No, Mr Bloom said. I have just come from a funeral. -Going to crop up all day, I foresee. Who's dead, when and what did -he die of? Turn up like a bad penny. -O, dear me, Mrs Breen said. I hope it wasn't any near relation. -May as well get her sympathy. -Dignam, Mr Bloom said. An old friend of mine. He died quite suddenly, -poor fellow. Heart trouble, I believe. Funeral was this morning. -YOUR FUNERAL'S TOMORROW -WHILE YOU'RE COMING THROUGH THE RYE. -DIDDLEDIDDLE DUMDUM -DIDDLEDIDDLE ... -Sad to lose the old friends, Mrs Breen's womaneyes said melancholily. -Now that's quite enough about that. Just quietly husband. -And your lord and master? -Mrs Breen turned up her two large eyes. Hasn't lost them anyhow. -O, don't be talking she said. He's a caution to rattlesnakes. He's in -there now with his lawbooks finding out the law of libel. He has me -heartscalded. Wait till I show you. -Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly -poured out from Harrison's. The heavy noonreek tickled the top of Mr -Bloom's gullet. Want to make good pastry, butter, best flour, Demerara -sugar, or they'd taste it with the hot tea. Or is it from her? A barefoot -arab stood over the grating, breathing in the fumes. Deaden the gnaw of -hunger that way. Pleasure or pain is it? Penny dinner. Knife and fork -chained to the table. -Opening her handbag, chipped leather. Hatpin ought to have a -guard on those things. Stick it in a chap's eye in the tram. Rummaging. -Open. Money. Please take one. Devils if they lose sixpence. Raise Cain. -Husband barging. Where's the ten shillings I gave you on Monday? Are -you feeding your little brother's family? Soiled handkerchief -medicinebottle. Pastille that was fell. What is she? ... -There must be a new moon out, she said. He's always bad then. Do you -know what he did last night? -Her hand ceased to rummage. Her eyes fixed themselves on him, wide -in alarm, yet smiling. -What? Mr Bloom asked. -Let her speak. Look straight in her eyes. I believe you. Trust me. -Woke me up in the night, she said. Dream he had, a nightmare. -Indiges. -Said the ace of spades was walking up the stairs. -The ace of spades Mr Bloom said. -She took a folded postcard from her handbag. -Read that, she said. He got it this morning. -What is it? Mr Bloom asked, taking the card. U.P.? -U.P. up, she said. Someone taking a rise out of him. It's a great shame -for them whoever he is. -Indeed it is, Mr Bloom said. -She took back the card, sighing. -And now he's going round to Mr Menton's office. He's going to take an -action for ten thousand pounds, he says. -She folded the card into her untidy bag and snapped the catch. -Same blue serge dress she had two years ago, the nap bleaching. Seen -its best days. Wispish hair over her ears. And that dowdy toque three old -grapes to take the harm out of it. Shabby genteel. She used to be a tasty -dresser. Lines round her mouth. Only a year or so older than Molly. -See the eye that woman gave her, passing. Cruel. The unfair sex. -He looked still at her, holding back behind his look his discontent. -Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. I'm hungry too. Flakes of pastry -on the gusset of her dress daub of sugary flour stuck to her cheek. -Rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior. Josie Powell that -was. In Luke Doyle's long ago. Dolphin's Barn, the charades. U.P. up. -Change the subject. -Do you ever see anything of Mrs Beaufoy? Mr Bloom asked. -Mina Purefoy? she said. -Philip Beaufoy I was thinking. Playgoers' Club. Matcham often -thinks of the masterstroke. Did I pull the chain? Yes. The last act. -Yes. -I just called to ask on the way in is she over it. She's in the lyingin -hospital in Holles street. Dr Horne got her in. She's three days bad now. -O, Mr Bloom said. I'm sorry to hear that. -Yes, Mrs Breen said. And a houseful of kids at home. It's a very stiff -birth, the nurse told me. -O, Mr Bloom said. -His heavy pitying gaze absorbed her news. His tongue clacked in -compassion. Dth Dth -I'm sorry to hear that, he said. Poor thing Three days That's terrible -for her. -Mrs Breen nodded. -She was taken bad on the Tuesday ... -Mr Bloom touched her funnybone gently, warning her -Mind Let this man pass. -A bony form strode along the curbstone from the river staring with a -rapt gaze into the sunlight through a heavystringed glass. Tight as a -skullpiece a tiny hat gripped his head. From his arm a folded dustcoat, a -stick and an umbrella dangled to his stride. -Watch him, Mr Bloom said. He always walks outside the lampposts. Watch -Who is he if it's a fair question? Mrs Breen asked. Is he dotty? -His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr -Bloom said smiling. Watch -He has enough of them, she said. Denis will be like that one of these -days. -She broke off suddenly. -There he is, she said. I must go after him. Goodbye. Remember me to -Molly, won't you? -I will, Mr Bloom said. -He watched her dodge through passers towards the shopfronts. Denis -Breen in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of Harrison's -hugging two heavy tomes to his ribs. Blown in from the bay. Like old -times. He suffered her to overtake him without surprise and thrust his -dull grey beard towards her, his loose jaw wagging as he spoke earnestly. -Meshuggah. Off his chump. -Mr Bloom walked on again easily, seeing ahead of him in sunlight the -tight skullpiece, the dangling stickumbrelladustcoat. Going the two days. -Watch him Out he goes again. One way of getting on in the world. And -that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Hard time she must have with -him. -U.P. up. I'll take my oath that's Alf Bergan or Richie Goulding. -Wrote it for a lark in the Scotch house I bet anything. Round to Menton's -office. His oyster eyes staring at the postcard. Be a feast for the gods. -He passed the IRISH TIMES. There might be other answers Iying there. -Like to answer them all. Good system for criminals. Code. At their lunch -now. Clerk with the glasses there doesn't know me. O, leave them there to -simmer. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them. Wanted, smart -lady typist to aid gentleman in literary work. I called you naughty -darling because I do not like that other world. Please tell me what is the -meaning. Please tell me what perfume does your wife. Tell me who made the -world. The way they spring those questions on you. And the other one -Lizzie Twigg. My literary efforts have had the good fortune to meet with -the approval of the eminent poet A. E. Mr Geo. Russell. No time to do -her hair drinking sloppy tea with a book of poetry. -Best paper by long chalks for a small ad. Got the provinces now. -Cook and general, exc. cuisine, housemaid kept. Wanted live man for spirit -counter. Resp. girl R.C. wishes to hear of post in fruit or pork shop. -James Carlisle made that. Six and a half per cent dividend. Made a big -deal on Coates's shares. Ca' canny. Cunning old Scotch hunks. All the -toady news. Our gracious and popular vicereine. Bought the IRISH FIELD -now. Lady Mountcashel has quite recovered after her confinement and rode -out with the Ward Union staghounds at the enlargement yesterday at -Rathoath. Uneatable fox. Pothunters too. Fear injects juices make it -tender enough for them. Riding astride. Sit her horse like a man. -Weightcarrying huntress. No sidesaddle or pillion for her, not for Joe. -First to the meet and in at the death. Strong as a brood mare some of -those horsey women. Swagger around livery stables. Toss off a glass of -brandy neat while you'd say knife. That one at the Grosvenor this morning. -Up with her on the car wishswish. Stonewall or fivebarred gate -put her mount to it. Think that pugnosed driver did it out of spite. -Who is this she was like? O yes Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me -her old wraps and black underclothes in the Shelbourne hotel. -Divorced Spanish American. Didn't take a feather out of her -my handling them. As if I was her clotheshorse. Saw her in the -viceregal party when Stubbs the park ranger got me in with Whelan of the -EXPRESS. Scavenging what the quality left. High tea. Mayonnaise I poured -on the plums thinking it was custard. Her ears ought to have tingled for a -few weeks after. Want to be a bull for her. Born courtesan. No nursery -work for her, thanks. -Poor Mrs Purefoy Methodist husband. Method in his madness. -Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in the educational dairy. Y. M. C. A. -Eating with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the minute. And still his -muttonchop whiskers grew. Supposed to be well connected. Theodore's -cousin in Dublin Castle. One tony relative in every family. Hardy annuals -he presents her with. Saw him out at the Three Jolly Topers marching along -bareheaded and his eldest boy carrying one in a marketnet. The squallers. -Poor thing Then having to give the breast year after year all hours of -the night. Selfish those t.t's are. Dog in the manger. Only one lump of -sugar in my tea, if you please. -He stood at Fleet street crossing. Luncheon interval. A sixpenny at -Rowe's? Must look up that ad in the national library. An eightpenny in the -Burton. Better. On my way. -He walked on past Bolton's Westmoreland house. Tea. Tea. Tea. I forgot -to tap Tom Kernan. -Sss. Dth, dth, dth Three days imagine groaning on a bed with a -vinegared handkerchief round her forehead, her belly swollen out. Phew -Dreadful simply Child's head too big forceps. Doubled up inside her -trying to butt its way out blindly, groping for the way out. Kill me that -would. Lucky Molly got over hers lightly. They ought to invent something -to stop that. Life with hard labour. Twilight sleep idea queen Victoria -was given that. Nine she had. A good layer. Old woman that lived in a shoe -she had so many children. Suppose he was consumptive. Time someone thought -about it instead of gassing about the what was it the pensive bosom of the -silver effulgence. Flapdoodle to feed fools on. They could easily have big -establishments whole thing quite painless out of all the taxes give every -child born five quid at compound interest up to twentyone five per cent is -a hundred shillings and five tiresome pounds multiply by twenty decimal -system encourage people to put by money save hundred and ten and a bit -twentyone years want to work it out on paper come to a tidy sum more than -you think. -Not stillborn of course. They are not even registered. Trouble for -nothing. -Funny sight two of them together, their bellies out. Molly and Mrs -Moisel. Mothers' meeting. Phthisis retires for the time being, then -returns. How flat they look all of a sudden after. Peaceful eyes. -Weight off their mind. Old Mrs Thornton was a jolly old soul. All -my babies, she said. The spoon of pap in her mouth before she fed -them. O, that's nyumnyum. Got her hand crushed by old Tom Wall's son. -His first bow to the public. Head like a prize pumpkin. Snuffy Dr Murren. -People knocking them up at all hours. For God' sake, doctor. Wife in -her throes. Then keep them waiting months for their fee. To attendance -on your wife. No gratitude in people. Humane doctors, most of them. -Before the huge high door of the Irish house of parliament a flock of -pigeons flew. Their little frolic after meals. Who will we do it on? I -pick the fellow in black. Here goes. Here's good luck. Must be thrilling -from the air. Apjohn, myself and Owen Goldberg up in the trees near Goose -green playing the monkeys. Mackerel they called me. -A squad of constables debouched from College street, marching in -Indian file. Goosestep. Foodheated faces, sweating helmets, patting their -truncheons. After their feed with a good load of fat soup under their -belts. Policeman's lot is oft a happy one. They split up in groups and -scattered, saluting, towards their beats. Let out to graze. Best moment to -attack one in pudding time. A punch in his dinner. A squad of others, -marching irregularly, rounded Trinity railings making for the station. -Bound for their troughs. Prepare to receive cavalry. Prepare to receive -soup. -He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. They did right to -put him up over a urinal meeting of the waters. Ought to be places for -women. Running into cakeshops. Settle my hat straight. THERE IS NOT IN -THIS WIDE WORLD A VALLEE. Great song of Julia Morkan's. Kept her voice up -to the very last. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she? -He gazed after the last broad tunic. Nasty customers to tackle. Jack -Power could a tale unfold father a G man. If a fellow gave them trouble -being lagged they let him have it hot and heavy in the bridewell. Can't -blame them after all with the job they have especially the young hornies. -That horsepoliceman the day Joe Chamberlain was given his degree in -Trinity he got a run for his money. My word he did His horse's hoofs -clattering after us down Abbey street. Lucky I had the presence of mind to -dive into Manning's or I was souped. He did come a wallop, by George. -Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones. I oughtn't to have got -myself swept along with those medicals. And the Trinity jibs in their -mortarboards. Looking for trouble. Still I got to know that young Dixon -who dressed that sting for me in the Mater and now he's in Holles street -where Mrs Purefoy. Wheels within wheels. Police whistle in my ears still. -All skedaddled. Why he fixed on me. Give me in charge. Right here it -began. -Up the Boers -Three cheers for De Wet -We'll hang Joe Chamberlain on a sourapple tree. -Silly billies mob of young cubs yelling their guts out. Vinegar hill. -The Butter exchange band. Few years' time half of them magistrates and -civil servants. War comes on into the army helterskelter same fellows -used to. Whether on the scaffold high. -Never know who you're talking to. Corny Kelleher he has Harvey -Duff in his eye. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the -gaff on the invincibles. Member of the corporation too. Egging raw youths -on to get in the know all the time drawing secret service pay from the -castle. Drop him like a hot potato. Why those plainclothes men are always -courting slaveys. Easily twig a man used to uniform. Squarepushing up -against a backdoor. Maul her a bit. Then the next thing on the menu. And -who is the gentleman does be visiting there? Was the young master saying -anything? Peeping Tom through the keyhole. Decoy duck. Hotblooded young -student fooling round her fat arms ironing. -Are those yours, Mary? -I don't wear such things ... Stop or I'll tell the missus on you. -Out half the night. -There are great times coming, Mary. Wait till you see. -Ah, gelong with your great times coming. -Barmaids too. Tobaccoshopgirls. -James Stephens' idea was the best. He knew them. Circles of ten so -that a fellow couldn't round on more than his own ring. Sinn Fein. Back -out you get the knife. Hidden hand. Stay in. The firing squad. Turnkey's -daughter got him out of Richmond, off from Lusk. Putting up in the -Buckingham Palace hotel under their very noses. Garibaldi. -You must have a certain fascination Parnell. Arthur Griffith is a -squareheaded fellow but he has no go in him for the mob. Or gas about our -lovely land. Gammon and spinach. Dublin Bakery Company's tearoom. -Debating societies. That republicanism is the best form of government. -That the language question should take precedence of the economic -question. Have your daughters inveigling them to your house. Stuff them -up with meat and drink. Michaelmas goose. Here's a good lump of thyme -seasoning under the apron for you. Have another quart of goosegrease -before it gets too cold. Halffed enthusiasts. Penny roll and a walk with -the band. No grace for the carver. The thought that the other chap pays -best sauce in the world. Make themselves thoroughly at home. Show us over -those apricots, meaning peaches. The not far distant day. Homerule sun -rising up in the northwest. -His smile faded as he walked, a heavy cloud hiding the sun slowly, -shadowing Trinity's surly front. Trams passed one another, ingoing, -outgoing, clanging. Useless words. Things go on same, day after day -squads of police marching out, back trams in, out. Those two loonies -mooching about. Dignam carted off. Mina Purefoy swollen belly on a bed -groaning to have a child tugged out of her. One born every second -somewhere. Other dying every second. Since I fed the birds five minutes. -Three hundred kicked the bucket. Other three hundred born, washing the -blood off, all are washed in the blood of the lamb, bawling maaaaaa. -Cityful passing away, other cityful coming, passing away too other -coming on, passing on. Houses, lines of houses, streets, miles of -pavements, piledup bricks, stones. Changing hands. This owner, that. -Landlord never dies they say. Other steps into his shoes when he gets -his notice to quit. They buy the place up with gold and still they -have all the gold. Swindle in it somewhere. Piled up in cities, worn -away age after age. Pyramids in sand. Built on bread and onions. -Slaves Chinese wall. Babylon. Big stones left. Round towers. Rest rubble, -sprawling suburbs, jerrybuilt. Kerwan's mushroom houses built of breeze. -Shelter, for the night. -Noone is anything. -This is the very worst hour of the day. Vitality. Dull, gloomy hate -this hour. Feel as if I had been eaten and spewed. -Provost's house. The reverend Dr Salmon tinned salmon. Well -tinned in there. Like a mortuary chapel. Wouldn't live in it if they paid -me. Hope they have liver and bacon today. Nature abhors a vacuum. -The sun freed itself slowly and lit glints of light among the silverware -opposite in Walter Sexton's window by which John Howard Parnell passed, -unseeing. -There he is the brother. Image of him. Haunting face. Now that's a -coincidence. Course hundreds of times you think of a person and don't -meet him. Like a man walking in his sleep. Noone knows him. Must be a -corporation meeting today. They say he never put on the city marshal's -uniform since he got the job. Charley Kavanagh used to come out on his -high horse, cocked hat, puffed, powdered and shaved. Look at the -woebegone walk of him. Eaten a bad egg. Poached eyes on ghost. I have a -pain. Great man's brother his brother's brother. He'd look nice on the -city charger. Drop into the D.B.C. probably for his coffee, play chess -there. His brother used men as pawns. Let them all go to pot. Afraid to -pass a remark on him. Freeze them up with that eye of his. That's the -fascination the name. All a bit touched. Mad Fanny and his other sister -Mrs Dickinson driving about with scarlet harness. Bolt upright lik -surgeon M'Ardle. Still David Sheehy beat him for south Meath. -Apply for the Chiltern Hundreds and retire into public life. The patriot's -banquet. Eating orangepeels in the park. Simon Dedalus said when they put -him in parliament that Parnell would come back from the grave and lead -him out of the house of commons by the arm. -Of the twoheaded octopus, one of whose heads is the head upon which -the ends of the world have forgotten to come while the other speaks with a -Scotch accent. The tentacles ... -They passed from behind Mr Bloom along the curbstone. Beard and -bicycle. Young woman. -And there he is too. Now that's really a coincidence second time. -Coming events cast their shadows before. With the approval of the eminent -poet, Mr Geo. Russell. That might be Lizzie Twigg with him. A. E. what -does that mean? Initials perhaps. Albert Edward, Arthur Edmund, -Alphonsus Eb Ed El Esquire. What was he saying? The ends of the world -with a Scotch accent. Tentacles octopus. Something occult symbolism. -Holding forth. She's taking it all in. Not saying a word. To aid gentleman -in literary work. -His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle, a -listening woman at his side. Coming from the vegetarian. Only -weggebobbles and fruit. Don't eat a beefsteak. If you do the eyes of that -cow will pursue you through all eternity. They say it's healthier. -Windandwatery though. Tried it. Keep you on the run all day. Bad as a -bloater. Dreams all night. Why do they call that thing they gave me -nutsteak? Nutarians. Fruitarians. To give you the idea you are eating -rumpsteak. Absurd. Salty too. They cook in soda. Keep you sitting by the -tap all night. -Her stockings are loose over her ankles. I detest that so tasteless. -Those literary etherial people they are all. Dreamy, cloudy, symbolistic. -Esthetes they are. I wouldn't be surprised if it was that kind of food you -see produces the like waves of the brain the poetical. For example one of -those policemen sweating Irish stew into their shirts you couldn't squeeze -a line of poetry out of him. Don't know what poetry is even. Must be in a -certain mood. -THE DREAMY CLOUDY GULL -WAVES O'ER THE WATERS DULL. -He crossed at Nassau street corner and stood before the window of -Yeates and Son, pricing the fieldglasses. Or will I drop into old Harris's -and have a chat with young Sinclair? Wellmannered fellow. Probably at his -lunch. Must get those old glasses of mine set right. Goerz lenses six -guineas. Germans making their way everywhere. Sell on easy terms to -capture trade. Undercutting. Might chance on a pair in the railway lost -property office. Astonishing the things people leave behind them in trains -and cloakrooms. What do they be thinking about? Women too. Incredible. -Last year travelling to Ennis had to pick up that farmer's daughter's ba -and hand it to her at Limerick junction. Unclaimed money too. There's a -little watch up there on the roof of the bank to test those glasses by. -His lids came down on the lower rims of his irides. Can't see it. If you -imagine it's there you can almost see it. Can't see it. -He faced about and, standing between the awnings, held out his right -hand at arm's length towards the sun. Wanted to try that often. Yes -completely. The tip of his little finger blotted out the sun's disk. Must -be the focus where the rays cross. If I had black glasses. Interesting. -There was a lot of talk about those sunspots when we were in Lombard -street west. Looking up from the back garden. Terrific explosions they -are. There will be a total eclipse this year autumn some time. -Now that I come to think of it that ball falls at Greenwich time. It's -the clock is worked by an electric wire from Dunsink. Must go out there -some first Saturday of the month. If I could get an introduction to -professor Joly or learn up something about his family. That would do to -man always feels complimented. Flattery where least expected. Nobleman -proud to be descended from some king's mistress. His foremother. Lay it on -with a trowel. Cap in hand goes through the land. Not go in and blurt out -what you know you're not to what's parallax? Show this gentleman the -door. -Ah. -His hand fell to his side again. -Never know anything about it. Waste of time. Gasballs spinning -about, crossing each other, passing. Same old dingdong always. Gas then -solid then world then cold then dead shell drifting around, frozen -rock, like that pineapple rock. The moon. Must be a new moon out, she -said. I believe there is. -He went on by la maison Claire. -Wait. The full moon was the night we were Sunday fortnight exactly -there is a new moon. Walking down by the Tolka. Not bad for a Fairview -moon. She was humming. The young May moon she's beaming, love. He -other side of her. Elbow, arm. He. Glowworm's laamp is gleaming, love. -Touch. Fingers. Asking. Answer. Yes. -Stop. Stop. If it was it was. Must. -Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court. -With a keep quiet relief his eyes took note this is the street here -middle of the day of Bob Doran's bottle shoulders. On his annual bend, -M Coy said. They drink in order to say or do something or CHERCHEZ LA -FEMME. Up in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then the -rest of the year sober as a judge. -Yes. Thought so. Sloping into the Empire. Gone. Plain soda would do -him good. Where Pat Kinsella had his Harp theatre before Whitbred ran -the Queen's. Broth of a boy. Dion Boucicault business with his -harvestmoon face in a poky bonnet. Three Purty Maids from School. How -time flies, eh? Showing long red pantaloons under his skirts. Drinkers, -drinking, laughed spluttering, their drink against their breath. More -power, Pat. Coarse red fun for drunkards guffaw and smoke. Take off that -white hat. His parboiled eyes. Where is he now? Beggar somewhere. The harp -that once did starve us all. -I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I? Twentyeight I was. -She twentythree. When we left Lombard street west something changed. -Could never like it again after Rudy. Can't bring back time. Like holding -water in your hand. Would you go back to then? Just beginning then. -Would you? Are you not happy in your home you poor little naughty boy? -Wants to sew on buttons for me. I must answer. Write it in the library. -Grafton street gay with housed awnings lured his senses. Muslin -prints, silkdames and dowagers, jingle of harnesses, hoofthuds lowringing -in the baking causeway. Thick feet that woman has in the white stockings. -Hope the rain mucks them up on her. Countrybred chawbacon. All the beef -to the heels were in. Always gives a woman clumsy feet. Molly looks out of -plumb. -He passed, dallying, the windows of Brown Thomas, silk mercers. -Cascades of ribbons. Flimsy China silks. A tilted urn poured from its -mouth a flood of bloodhued poplin lustrous blood. The huguenots brought -that here. LA CAUSA E SANTA Tara Tara. Great chorus that. Taree tara. -Must be washed in rainwater. Meyerbeer. Tara bom bom bom. -Pincushions. I'm a long time threatening to buy one. Sticking them all -over the place. Needles in window curtains. -He bared slightly his left forearm. Scrape nearly gone. Not today -anyhow. Must go back for that lotion. For her birthday perhaps. -Junejulyaugseptember eighth. Nearly three months off. Then she mightn't -like it. Women won't pick up pins. Say it cuts lo. -Gleaming silks, petticoats on slim brass rails, rays of flat silk -stockings. -Useless to go back. Had to be. Tell me all. -High voices. Sunwarm silk. Jingling harnesses. All for a woman, -home and houses, silkwebs, silver, rich fruits spicy from Jaffa. Agendath -Netaim. Wealth of the world. -A warm human plumpness settled down on his brain. His brain -yielded. Perfume of embraces all him assailed. With hungered flesh -obscurely, he mutely craved to adore. -Duke street. Here we are. Must eat. The Burton. Feel better then. -He turned Combridge's corner, still pursued. Jingling, hoofthuds. -Perfumed bodies, warm, full. All kissed, yielded in deep summer fields, -tangled pressed grass, in trickling hallways of tenements, along sofas, -creaking beds. -Jack, love -Darling -Kiss me, Reggy -My boy -Love -His heart astir he pushed in the door of the Burton restaurant. Stink -gripped his trembling breath pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. See the -animals feed. -Men, men, men. -Perched on high stools by the bar, hats shoved back, at the tables -calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy -food, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. A pallid suetfaced -young man polished his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his napkin. New -set of microbes. A man with an infant's saucestained napkin tucked round -him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his -plate halfmasticated gristle gums no teeth to chewchewchew it. Chump -chop from the grill. Bolting to get it over. Sad booser's eyes. Bitten off -more than he can chew. Am I like that? See ourselves as others see us. -Hungry man is an angry man. Working tooth and jaw. Don't O A bone That -last pagan king of Ireland Cormac in the schoolpoem choked himself at -Sletty southward of the Boyne. Wonder what he was eating. Something -galoptious. Saint Patrick converted him to Christianity. Couldn't swallow -it all however. -Roast beef and cabbage. -One stew. -Smells of men. Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarette smoke, reek of -plug, spilt beer, men's beery piss, the stale of ferment. -His gorge rose. -Couldn't eat a morsel here. Fellow sharpening knife and fork to eat -all before him, old chap picking his tootles. Slight spasm, full, chewing -the cud. Before and after. Grace after meals. Look on this picture then on -that. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread. Lick it off the -plate, man Get out of this. -He gazed round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of -his nose. -Two stouts here. -One corned and cabbage. -That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if his life -depended on it. Good stroke. Give me the fidgets to look. Safer to eat -from his three hands. Tear it limb from limb. Second nature to him. Born -with a silver knife in his mouth. That's witty, I think. Or no. Silver -means born rich. Born with a knife. But then the allusion is lost. -An illgirt server gathered sticky clattering plates. Rock, the head -bailiff, standing at the bar blew the foamy crown from his tankard. Well -up it splashed yellow near his boot. A diner, knife and fork upright, -elbows on table, ready for a second helping stared towards the foodlift -across his stained square of newspaper. Other chap telling him something -with his mouth full. Sympathetic listener. Table talk. I munched hum un -thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday. Ha? Did you, faith? -Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his lips. His eyes said -Not here. Don't see him. -Out. I hate dirty eaters. -He backed towards the door. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne's. Stopgap. -Keep me going. Had a good breakfast. -Roast and mashed here. -Pint of stout. -Every fellow for his own, tooth and nail. Gulp. Grub. Gulp. Gobstuff. -He came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street. -Eat or be eaten. Kill Kill -Suppose that communal kitchen years to come perhaps. All trotting -down with porringers and tommycans to be filled. Devour contents in the -street. John Howard Parnell example the provost of Trinity every mother's -son don't talk of your provosts and provost of Trinity women and children -cabmen priests parsons fieldmarshals archbishops. From Ailesbury road, -Clyde road, artisans' dwellings, north Dublin union, lord mayor in his -gingerbread coach, old queen in a bathchair. My plate's empty. After you -with our incorporated drinkingcup. Like sir Philip Crampton's fountain. -Rub off the microbes with your handkerchief. Next chap rubs on a new -batch with his. Father O'Flynn would make hares of them all. Have rows -all the same. All for number one. Children fighting for the scrapings of -the pot. Want a souppot as big as the Phoenix park. Harpooning flitches -and hindquarters out of it. Hate people all round you. City Arms hotel -TABLE D'HOTE she called it. Soup, joint and sweet. Never know whose -thoughts you're chewing. Then who'd wash up all the plates and forks? -Might be all feeding on tabloids that time. Teeth getting worse and worse. -After all there's a lot in that vegetarian fine flavour of things from the -earth garlic of course it stinks after Italian organgrinders crisp of -onions mushrooms truffles. Pain to the animal too. Pluck and draw fowl. -Wretched brutes there at the cattlemarket waiting for the poleaxe to split -their skulls open. Moo. Poor trembling calves. Meh. Staggering bob. Bubble -and squeak. Butchers' buckets wobbly lights. Give us that brisket off the -hook. Plup. Rawhead and bloody bones. Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from -their haunches, sheepsnouts bloodypapered snivelling nosejam on sawdust. -Top and lashers going out. Don't maul them pieces, young one. -Hot fresh blood they prescribe for decline. Blood always needed. -Insidious. Lick it up smokinghot, thick sugary. Famished ghosts. -Ah, I'm hungry. -He entered Davy Byrne's. Moral pub. He doesn't chat. Stands a -drink now and then. But in leapyear once in four. Cashed a cheque for me -once. -What will I take now? He drew his watch. Let me see now. Shandygaff? -Hello, Bloom, Nosey Flynn said from his nook. -Hello, Flynn. -How's things? -Tiptop ... Let me see. I'll take a glass of burgundy and ... let -me see. -Sardines on the shelves. Almost taste them by looking. Sandwich? -Ham and his descendants musterred and bred there. Potted meats. What is -home without Plumtree's potted meat? Incomplete. What a stupid ad -Under the obituary notices they stuck it. All up a plumtree. Dignam's -potted meat. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. White missionary too -salty. Like pickled pork. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour. -Ought to be tough from exercise. His wives in a row to watch the effect. -THERE WAS A RIGHT ROYAL OLD NIGGER. WHO ATE OR SOMETHING THE SOMETHINGS OF -THE REVEREND MR MACTRIGGER. With it an abode of bliss. Lord knows what -concoction. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up. Puzzle -find the meat. Kosher. No meat and milk together. Hygiene that was what -they call now. Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside. Peace and war -depend on some fellow's digestion. Religions. Christmas turkeys and geese. -Slaughter of innocents. Eat drink and be merry. Then casual wards full -after. Heads bandaged. Cheese digests all but itself. Mity cheese. -Have you a cheese sandwich? -Yes, sir. -Like a few olives too if they had them. Italian I prefer. Good glass of -burgundy take away that. Lubricate. A nice salad, cool as a cucumber, Tom -Kernan can dress. Puts gusto into it. Pure olive oil. Milly served me that -cutlet with a sprig of parsley. Take one Spanish onion. God made food, the -devil the cooks. Devilled crab. -Wife well? -Quite well, thanks ... A cheese sandwich, then. Gorgonzola, have you? -Yes, sir. -Nosey Flynn sipped his grog. -Doing any singing those times? -Look at his mouth. Could whistle in his own ear. Flap ears to match. -Music. Knows as much about it as my coachman. Still better tell him. Does -no harm. Free ad. -She's engaged for a big tour end of this month. You may have heard -perhaps. -No. O, that's the style. Who's getting it up? -The curate served. -How much is that? -Seven d., sir ... Thank you, sir. -Mr Bloom cut his sandwich into slender strips. MR MACTRIGGER. Easier -than the dreamy creamy stuff. HIS FIVE HUNDRED WIVES. HAD THE TIME OF -THEIR LIVES. -Mustard, sir? -Thank you. -He studded under each lifted strip yellow blobs. THEIR LIVES. I have it. -IT GREW BIGGER AND BIGGER AND BIGGER. -Getting it up? he said. Well, it's like a company idea, you see. Part -shares and part profits. -Ay, now I remember, Nosey Flynn said, putting his hand in his pocket to -scratch his groin. Who is this was telling me? Isn't Blazes Boylan mixed -up in it? -A warm shock of air heat of mustard hanched on Mr Bloom's heart. -He raised his eyes and met the stare of a bilious clock. Two. Pub clock -five minutes fast. Time going on. Hands moving. Two. Not yet. -His midriff yearned then upward, sank within him, yearned more longly, -longingly. -Wine. -He smellsipped the cordial juice and, bidding his throat strongly to -speed it, set his wineglass delicately down. -Yes, he said. He's the organiser in point of fact. -No fear no brains. -Nosey Flynn snuffled and scratched. Flea having a good square meal. -He had a good slice of luck, Jack Mooney was telling me, over that -boxingmatch Myler Keogh won again that soldier in the Portobello -barracks. By God, he had the little kipper down in the county Carlow he -was telling me ... -Hope that dewdrop doesn't come down into his glass. No, snuffled it -up. -For near a month, man, before it came off. Sucking duck eggs by God till -further orders. Keep him off the boose, see? O, by God, Blazes is a hairy -chap. -Davy Byrne came forward from the hindbar in tuckstitched -shirtsleeves, cleaning his lips with two wipes of his napkin. Herring's -blush. Whose smile upon each feature plays with such and such replete. -Too much fat on the parsnips. -And here's himself and pepper on him, Nosey Flynn said. Can you give -us a good one for the Gold cup? -I'm off that, Mr Flynn, Davy Byrne answered. I never put anything on a -horse. -You're right there, Nosey Flynn said. -Mr Bloom ate his strips of sandwich, fresh clean bread, with relish of -disgust pungent mustard, the feety savour of green cheese. Sips of his -wine soothed his palate. Not logwood that. Tastes fuller this weather with -the chill off. -Nice quiet bar. Nice piece of wood in that counter. Nicely planed. -Like the way it curves there. -I wouldn't do anything at all in that line, Davy Byrne said. It ruined -many a man, the same horses. -Vintners' sweepstake. Licensed for the sale of beer, wine and spirits -for consumption on the premises. Heads I win tails you lose. -True for you, Nosey Flynn said. Unless you're in the know. There's no -straight sport going now. Lenehan gets some good ones. He's giving -Sceptre today. Zinfandel's the favourite, lord Howard de Walden's, won at -Epsom. Morny Cannon is riding him. I could have got seven to one against -Saint Amant a fortnight before. -That so? Davy Byrne said ... -He went towards the window and, taking up the pettycash book, scanned -its pages. -I could, faith, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. That was a rare bit of -horseflesh. Saint Frusquin was her sire. She won in a thunderstorm, -Rothschild's filly, with wadding in her ears. Blue jacket and yellow cap. -Bad luck to big Ben Dollard and his John O'Gaunt. He put me off it. Ay. -He drank resignedly from his tumbler, running his fingers down the flutes. -Ay, he said, sighing. -Mr Bloom, champing, standing, looked upon his sigh. Nosey -numbskull. Will I tell him that horse Lenehan? He knows already. Better -let him forget. Go and lose more. Fool and his money. Dewdrop coming down -again. Cold nose he'd have kissing a woman. Still they might like. Prickly -beards they like. Dogs' cold noses. Old Mrs Riordan with the rumbling -stomach's Skye terrier in the City Arms hotel. Molly fondling him in her -lap. O, the big doggybowwowsywowsy -Wine soaked and softened rolled pith of bread mustard a moment -mawkish cheese. Nice wine it is. Taste it better because I'm not thirsty. -Bath of course does that. Just a bite or two. Then about six o'clock I can. -Six. Six. Time will be gone then. She ... -Mild fire of wine kindled his veins. I wanted that badly. Felt so off -colour. His eyes unhungrily saw shelves of tins sardines, gaudy -lobsters' claws. All the odd things people pick up for food. Out of -shells, periwinkles with a pin, off trees, snails out of the ground the -French eat, out of the sea with bait on a hook. Silly fish learn nothing -in a thousand years. If you didn't know risky putting anything into your -mouth. Poisonous berries. Johnny Magories. Roundness you think good. -Gaudy colour warns you off. One fellow told another and so on. Try it on -the dog first. Led on by the smell or the look. Tempting fruit. Ice -cones. Cream. Instinct. Orangegroves for instance. Need artificial -irrigation. Bleibtreustrasse. Yes but what about oysters. Unsightly like -a clot of phlegm. Filthy shells. Devil to open them too. Who found them -out? Garbage, sewage they feed on. Fizz and Red bank oysters. Effect on -the sexual. Aphrodis. He was in the Red Bank this morning. Was he oysters -old fish at table perhaps he young flesh in bed no June has no ar no -oysters. But there are people like things high. Tainted game. Jugged -hare. First catch your hare. Chinese eating eggs fifty years old, blue -and green again. Dinner of thirty courses. Each dish harmless might mix -inside. Idea for a poison mystery. That archduke Leopold was it no yes or -was it Otto one of those Habsburgs? Or who was it used to eat the scruff -off his own head? Cheapest lunch in town. Of course aristocrats, then the -others copy to be in the fashion. Milly too rock oil and flour. Raw -pastry I like myself. Half the catch of oysters they throw back in the -sea to keep up the price. Cheap noone would buy. Caviare. Do the grand. -Hock in green glasses. Swell blowout. Lady this. Powdered bosom pearls. -The ELITE. CREME DE LA CREME. They want special dishes to pretend -they're. Hermit with a platter of pulse keep down the stings of the -flesh. Know me come eat with me. Royal sturgeon high sheriff, Coffey, the -butcher, right to venisons of the forest from his ex. Send him back the -half of a cow. Spread I saw down in the Master of the Rolls' kitchen -area. Whitehatted CHEF like a rabbi. Combustible duck. Curly cabbage A LA -DUCHESSE DE PARME. Just as well to write it on the bill of fare so you -can know what you've eaten. Too many drugs spoil the broth. I know it -myself. Dosing it with Edwards' desiccated soup. Geese stuffed silly for -them. Lobsters boiled alive. Do ptake some ptarmigan. Wouldn't mind being -a waiter in a swell hotel. Tips, evening dress, halfnaked ladies. May I -tempt you to a little more filleted lemon sole, miss Dubedat? Yes, do -bedad. And she did bedad. Huguenot name I expect that. A miss Dubedat -lived in Killiney, I remember. DU, DE LA French. Still it's the same fish -perhaps old Micky Hanlon of Moore street ripped the guts out of making -money hand over fist finger in fishes' gills can't write his name on a -cheque think he was painting the landscape with his mouth twisted. -Moooikill A Aitcha Ha ignorant as a kish of brogues, worth fifty thousand -pounds. -Stuck on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck. -Glowing wine on his palate lingered swallowed. Crushing in the winepress -grapes of Burgundy. Sun's heat it is. Seems to a secret touch telling me -memory. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Hidden under wild ferns -on Howth below us bay sleeping sky. No sound. The sky. The bay purple by -the Lion's head. Green by Drumleck. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Fields of -undersea, the lines faint brown in grass, buried cities. Pillowed on my -coat she had her hair, earwigs in the heather scrub my hand under her -nape, you'll toss me all. O wonder Coolsoft with ointments her hand -touched me, caressed her eyes upon me did not turn away. Ravished over -her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me -in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had -mumbled sweetsour of her spittle. Joy I ate it joy. Young life, her -lips that gave me pouting. Soft warm sticky gumjelly lips. Flowers her -eyes were, take me, willing eyes. Pebbles fell. She lay still. A goat. -Noone. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, -dropping currants. Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Wildly I -lay on her, kissed her eyes, her lips, her stretched neck beating, -woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. -Hot I tongued her. She kissed me. I was kissed. All yielding she tossed -my hair. Kissed, she kissed me. -Me. And me now. -Stuck, the flies buzzed. -His downcast eyes followed the silent veining of the oaken slab. Beauty -it curves curves are beauty. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno curves the -world admires. Can see them library museum standing in the round hall, -naked goddesses. Aids to digestion. They don't care what man looks. All -to see. Never speaking. I mean to say to fellows like Flynn. Suppose she -did Pygmalion and Galatea what would she say first? Mortal Put you in -your proper place. Quaffing nectar at mess with gods golden dishes, all -ambrosial. Not like a tanner lunch we have, boiled mutton, carrots and -turnips, bottle of Allsop. Nectar imagine it drinking electricity gods' -food. Lovely forms of women sculped Junonian. Immortal lovely. And we -stuffing food in one hole and out behind food, chyle, blood, dung, -earth, food have to feed it like stoking an engine. They have no. Never -looked. I'll look today. Keeper won't see. Bend down let something drop -see if she. -Dribbling a quiet message from his bladder came to go to do not to do -there to do. A man and ready he drained his glass to the lees and walked, -to men too they gave themselves, manly conscious, lay with men lovers, a -youth enjoyed her, to the yard. -When the sound of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said from his book -What is this he is? Isn't he in the insurance line? -He's out of that long ago, Nosey Flynn said. He does canvassing for the -FREEMAN. -I know him well to see, Davy Byrne said. Is he in trouble? -Trouble? Nosey Flynn said. Not that I heard of. Why? -I noticed he was in mourning. -Was he? Nosey Flynn said. So he was, faith. I asked him how was all at -home. You're right, by God. So he was. -I never broach the subject, Davy Byrne said humanely, if I see a -gentleman is in trouble that way. It only brings it up fresh in their -minds. -It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. I met him the day before -yesterday and he coming out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's -wife has in Henry street with a jar of cream in his hand taking it home -to his better half. She's well nourished, I tell you. Plovers on toast. -And is he doing for the FREEMAN? Davy Byrne said. -Nosey Flynn pursed his lips. -He doesn't buy cream on the ads he picks up. You can make bacon of -that. -How so? Davy Byrne asked, coming from his book. -Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the air with juggling fingers. He -winked. -He's in the craft, he said. -Do you tell me so? Davy Byrne said. -Very much so, Nosey Flynn said. Ancient free and accepted order. He's -an excellent brother. Light, life and love, by God. They give him a leg -up. I was told that by awell, I won't say who. -Is that a fact? -O, it's a fine order, Nosey Flynn said. They stick to you when you're -down. I know a fellow was trying to get into it. But they're as close as -damn it. By God they did right to keep the women out of it. -Davy Byrne smiledyawnednodded all in one -Iiiiiichaaaaaaach -There was one woman, Nosey Flynn said, hid herself in a clock to find -out what they do be doing. But be damned but they smelt her out and swore -her in on the spot a master mason. That was one of the saint Legers of -Doneraile. -Davy Byrne, sated after his yawn, said with tearwashed eyes -And is that a fact? Decent quiet man he is. I often saw him in here and -I never once saw himyou know, over the line. -God Almighty couldn't make him drunk, Nosey Flynn said firmly. Slips -off when the fun gets too hot. Didn't you see him look at his watch? Ah, -you weren't there. If you ask him to have a drink first thing he does he -outs with the watch to see what he ought to imbibe. Declare to God he -does. -There are some like that, Davy Byrne said. He's a safe man, I'd say. -He's not too bad, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling it up. He's been known to -put his hand down too to help a fellow. Give the devil his due. O, Bloom -has his good points. But there's one thing he'll never do. -His hand scrawled a dry pen signature beside his grog. -I know, Davy Byrne said. -Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said. -Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in. Tom Rochford followed frowning, a -plaining hand on his claret waistcoat. -Day, Mr Byrne. -Day, gentlemen. -They paused at the counter. -Who's standing? Paddy Leonard asked. -I'm sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn answered. -Well, what'll it be? Paddy Leonard asked. -I'll take a stone ginger, Bantam Lyons said. -How much? Paddy Leonard cried. Since when, for God' sake? What's yours, -Tom? -How is the main drainage? Nosey Flynn asked, sipping. -For answer Tom Rochford pressed his hand to his breastbone and hiccupped. -Would I trouble you for a glass of fresh water, Mr Byrne? he said. -Certainly, sir. -Paddy Leonard eyed his alemates. -Lord love a duck, he said. Look at what I'm standing drinks to Cold -water and gingerpop Two fellows that would suck whisky off a sore leg. -He has some bloody horse up his sleeve for the Gold cup. A dead snip. -Zinfandel is it? Nosey Flynn asked. -Tom Rochford spilt powder from a twisted paper into the water set before -him. -That cursed dyspepsia, he said before drinking. -Breadsoda is very good, Davy Byrne said. -Tom Rochford nodded and drank. -Is it Zinfandel? -Say nothing Bantam Lyons winked. I'm going to plunge five bob on my -own. -Tell us if you're worth your salt and be damned to you, Paddy Leonard -said. Who gave it to you? -Mr Bloom on his way out raised three fingers in greeting. -So long Nosey Flynn said. -The others turned. -That's the man now that gave it to me, Bantam Lyons whispered. -Prrwht Paddy Leonard said with scorn. Mr Byrne, sir, we'll take two of -your small Jamesons after that and a ... -Stone ginger, Davy Byrne added civilly. -Ay, Paddy Leonard said. A suckingbottle for the baby. -Mr Bloom walked towards Dawson street, his tongue brushing his teeth -smooth. Something green it would have to be spinach, say. Then with -those Rontgen rays searchlight you could. -At Duke lane a ravenous terrier choked up a sick knuckly cud on the -cobblestones and lapped it with new zest. Surfeit. Returned with thanks -having fully digested the contents. First sweet then savoury. Mr Bloom -coasted warily. Ruminants. His second course. Their upper jaw they move. -Wonder if Tom Rochford will do anything with that invention of his? -Wasting time explaining it to Flynn's mouth. Lean people long mouths. -Ought to be a hall or a place where inventors could go in and invent -free. Course then you'd have all the cranks pestering. -He hummed, prolonging in solemn echo the closes of the bars -DON GIOVANNI, A CENAR TECO -M'INVITASTI. -Feel better. Burgundy. Good pick me up. Who distilled first? Some chap in -the blues. Dutch courage. That KILKENNY PEOPLE in the national library -now I must. -Bare clean closestools waiting in the window of William Miller, plumber, -turned back his thoughts. They could and watch it all the way down, -swallow a pin sometimes come out of the ribs years after, tour round the -body changing biliary duct spleen squirting liver gastric juice coils of -intestines like pipes. But the poor buffer would have to stand all the -time with his insides entrails on show. Science. -A CENAR TECO. -What does that TECO mean? Tonight perhaps. -DON GIOVANNI, THOU HAST ME INVITED -TO COME TO SUPPER TONIGHT, -THE RUM THE RUMDUM. -Doesn't go properly. -Keyes two months if I get Nannetti to. That'll be two pounds ten about -two pounds eight. Three Hynes owes me. Two eleven. Prescott's dyeworks -van over there. If I get Billy Prescott's ad two fifteen. Five guineas -about. On the pig's back. -Could buy one of those silk petticoats for Molly, colour of her new -garters. -Today. Today. Not think. -Tour the south then. What about English wateringplaces? Brighton, -Margate. Piers by moonlight. Her voice floating out. Those lovely seaside -girls. Against John Long's a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, -gnawing a crusted knuckle. Handy man wants job. Small wages. Will eat -anything. -Mr Bloom turned at Gray's confectioner's window of unbought tarts and -passed the reverend Thomas Connellan's bookstore. WHY I LEFT THE CHURCH -OF ROME? BIRDS' NEST. Women run him. They say they used to give pauper -children soup to change to protestants in the time of the potato blight. -Society over the way papa went to for the conversion of poor jews. Same -bait. Why we left the church of Rome. -A blind stripling stood tapping the curbstone with his slender cane. No -tram in sight. Wants to cross. -Do you want to cross? Mr Bloom asked. -The blind stripling did not answer. His wallface frowned weakly. He moved -his head uncertainly. -You're in Dawson street, Mr Bloom said. Molesworth street is opposite. -Do you want to cross? There's nothing in the way. -The cane moved out trembling to the left. Mr Bloom's eye followed its -line and saw again the dyeworks' van drawn up before Drago's. Where I saw -his brillantined hair just when I was. Horse drooping. Driver in John -Long's. Slaking his drouth. -There's a van there, Mr Bloom said, but it's not moving. I'll see you -across. Do you want to go to Molesworth street? -Yes, the stripling answered. South Frederick street. -Come, Mr Bloom said. -He touched the thin elbow gently then took the limp seeing hand to guide -it forward. -Say something to him. Better not do the condescending. They mistrust what -you tell them. Pass a common remark. -The rain kept off. -No answer. -Stains on his coat. Slobbers his food, I suppose. Tastes all different -for him. Have to be spoonfed first. Like a child's hand, his hand. Like -Milly's was. Sensitive. Sizing me up I daresay from my hand. Wonder if he -has a name. Van. Keep his cane clear of the horse's legs tired drudge -get his doze. That's right. Clear. Behind a bull in front of a horse. -Thanks, sir. -Knows I'm a man. Voice. -Right now? First turn to the left. -The blind stripling tapped the curbstone and went on his way, drawing his -cane back, feeling again. -Mr Bloom walked behind the eyeless feet, a flatcut suit of herringbone -tweed. Poor young fellow How on earth did he know that van was there? -Must have felt it. See things in their forehead perhaps kind of sense of -volume. Weight or size of it, something blacker than the dark. Wonder -would he feel it if something was removed. Feel a gap. Queer idea of -Dublin he must have, tapping his way round by the stones. Could he walk -in a beeline if he hadn't that cane? Bloodless pious face like a fellow -going in to be a priest. -Penrose That was that chap's name. -Look at all the things they can learn to do. Read with their fingers. -Tune pianos. Or we are surprised they have any brains. Why we think a -deformed person or a hunchback clever if he says something we might say. -Of course the other senses are more. Embroider. Plait baskets. People -ought to help. Workbasket I could buy for Molly's birthday. Hates sewing. -Might take an objection. Dark men they call them. -Sense of smell must be stronger too. Smells on all sides, bunched -together. Each street different smell. Each person too. Then the spring, -the summer smells. Tastes? They say you can't taste wines with your eyes -shut or a cold in the head. Also smoke in the dark they say get no -pleasure. -And with a woman, for instance. More shameless not seeing. That girl -passing the Stewart institution, head in the air. Look at me. I have them -all on. Must be strange not to see her. Kind of a form in his mind's eye. -The voice, temperatures when he touches her with his fingers must almost -see the lines, the curves. His hands on her hair, for instance. Say it -was black, for instance. Good. We call it black. Then passing over her -white skin. Different feel perhaps. Feeling of white. -Postoffice. Must answer. Fag today. Send her a postal order two -shillings, half a crown. Accept my little present. Stationer's just here -too. Wait. Think over it. -With a gentle finger he felt ever so slowly the hair combed back above -his ears. Again. Fibres of fine fine straw. Then gently his finger felt -the skin of his right cheek. Downy hair there too. Not smooth enough. The -belly is the smoothest. Noone about. There he goes into Frederick -street. Perhaps to Levenston's dancing academy piano. Might be settling -my braces. -Walking by Doran's publichouse he slid his hand between his waistcoat and -trousers and, pulling aside his shirt gently, felt a slack fold of his -belly. But I know it's whitey yellow. Want to try in the dark to see. -He withdrew his hand and pulled his dress to. -Poor fellow Quite a boy. Terrible. Really terrible. What dreams would he -have, not seeing? Life a dream for him. Where is the justice being born -that way? All those women and children excursion beanfeast burned and -drowned in New York. Holocaust. Karma they call that transmigration for -sins you did in a past life the reincarnation met him pike hoses. Dear, -dear, dear. Pity, of course but somehow you can't cotton on to them -someway. -Sir Frederick Falkiner going into the freemasons' hall. Solemn as Troy. -After his good lunch in Earlsfort terrace. Old legal cronies cracking a -magnum. Tales of the bench and assizes and annals of the bluecoat school. -I sentenced him to ten years. I suppose he'd turn up his nose at that -stuff I drank. Vintage wine for them, the year marked on a dusty bottle. -Has his own ideas of justice in the recorder's court. Wellmeaning old -man. Police chargesheets crammed with cases get their percentage -manufacturing crime. Sends them to the rightabout. The devil on -moneylenders. Gave Reuben J. a great strawcalling. Now he's really what -they call a dirty jew. Power those judges have. Crusty old topers in -wigs. Bear with a sore paw. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul. -Hello, placard. Mirus bazaar. His Excellency the lord lieutenant. -Sixteenth. Today it is. In aid of funds for Mercer's hospital. THE -MESSIAH was first given for that. Yes. Handel. What about going out -there Ballsbridge. Drop in on Keyes. No use sticking to him like a -leech. Wear out my welcome. Sure to know someone on the gate. -Mr Bloom came to Kildare street. First I must. Library. -Straw hat in sunlight. Tan shoes. Turnedup trousers. It is. It is. -His heart quopped softly. To the right. Museum. Goddesses. He swerved to -the right. -Is it? Almost certain. Won't look. Wine in my face. Why did I? Too heady. -Yes, it is. The walk. Not see. Get on. -Making for the museum gate with long windy steps he lifted his eyes. -Handsome building. Sir Thomas Deane designed. Not following me? -Didn't see me perhaps. Light in his eyes. -The flutter of his breath came forth in short sighs. Quick. Cold statues -quiet there. Safe in a minute. -No. Didn't see me. After two. Just at the gate. -My heart -His eyes beating looked steadfastly at cream curves of stone. Sir Thomas -Deane was the Greek architecture. -Look for something I. -His hasty hand went quick into a pocket, took out, read unfolded Agendath -Netaim. Where did I? -Busy looking. -He thrust back quick Agendath. -Afternoon she said. -I am looking for that. Yes, that. Try all pockets. Handker. FREEMAN. -Where did I? Ah, yes. Trousers. Potato. Purse. Where? -Hurry. Walk quietly. Moment more. My heart. -His hand looking for the where did I put found in his hip pocket soap -lotion have to call tepid paper stuck. Ah soap there I yes. Gate. -Safe -Urbane, to comfort them, the quaker librarian purred -And we have, have we not, those priceless pages of WILHELM MEISTER. A -great poet on a great brother poet. A hesitating soul taking arms against -a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as one sees in real life. -He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step -backward a sinkapace on the solemn floor. -A noiseless attendant setting open the door but slightly made him a -noiseless beck. -Directly, said he, creaking to go, albeit lingering. The beautiful -ineffectual dreamer who comes to grief against hard facts. One always -feels that Goethe's judgments are so true. True in the larger analysis. -Twicreakingly analysis he corantoed off. Bald, most zealous by the door -he gave his large ear all to the attendant's words heard them and was -gone. -Two left. -Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen sneered, was alive fifteen minutes -before his death. -Have you found those six brave medicals, John Eglinton asked with -elder's gall, to write PARADISE LOST at your dictation? THE SORROWS OF -SATAN he calls it. -Smile. Smile Cranly's smile. -FIRST HE TICKLED HER -THEN HE PATTED HER -THEN HE PASSED THE FEMALE CATHETER. -FOR HE WAS A MEDICAL -JOLLY OLD MEDI ... -I feel you would need one more for HAMLET. Seven is dear to the mystic -mind. The shining seven W.B. calls them. -Glittereyed his rufous skull close to his greencapped desklamp sought the -face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, an ollav, holyeyed. He laughed low -a sizar's laugh of Trinity unanswered. -ORCHESTRAL SATAN, WEEPING MANY A ROOD -TEARS SUCH AS ANGELS WEEP. -ED EGLI AVEA DEL CUL FATTO TROMBETTA. -He holds my follies hostage. -Cranly's eleven true Wicklowmen to free their sireland. Gaptoothed -Kathleen, her four beautiful green fields, the stranger in her house. And -one more to hail him AVE, RABBI the Tinahely twelve. In the shadow of -the glen he cooees for them. My soul's youth I gave him, night by night. -God speed. Good hunting. -Mulligan has my telegram. -Folly. Persist. -Our young Irish bards, John Eglinton censured, have yet to create a -figure which the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though -I admire him, as old Ben did, on this side idolatry. -All these questions are purely academic, Russell oracled out of his -shadow. I mean, whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I or Essex. -Clergymen's discussions of the historicity of Jesus. Art has to reveal to -us ideas, formless spiritual essences. The supreme question about a work -of art is out of how deep a life does it spring. The painting of Gustave -Moreau is the painting of ideas. The deepest poetry of Shelley, the words -of Hamlet bring our minds into contact with the eternal wisdom, Plato's -world of ideas. All the rest is the speculation of schoolboys for -schoolboys. -A. E. has been telling some yankee interviewer. Wall, tarnation strike -me -The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen said superpolitely. -Aristotle was once Plato's schoolboy. -And has remained so, one should hope, John Eglinton sedately said. One -can see him, a model schoolboy with his diploma under his arm. -He laughed again at the now smiling bearded face. -Formless spiritual. Father, Word and Holy Breath. Allfather, the heavenly -man. Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who suffers in -us at every moment. This verily is that. I am the fire upon the altar. I -am the sacrificial butter. -Dunlop, Judge, the noblest Roman of them all, A.E., Arval, the Name -Ineffable, in heaven hight K.H., their master, whose identity is no -secret to adepts. Brothers of the great white lodge always watching to -see if they can help. The Christ with the bridesister, moisture of light, -born of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the plane of -buddhi. The life esoteric is not for ordinary person. O.P. must work off -bad karma first. Mrs Cooper Oakley once glimpsed our very illustrious -sister H.P.B.'s elemental. -O, fie Out on't PFUITEUFEL You naughtn't to look, missus, so you -naughtn't when a lady's ashowing of her elemental. -Mr Best entered, tall, young, mild, light. He bore in his hand with grace -a notebook, new, large, clean, bright. -That model schoolboy, Stephen said, would find Hamlet's musings about -the afterlife of his princely soul, the improbable, insignificant and -undramatic monologue, as shallow as Plato's. -John Eglinton, frowning, said, waxing wroth -Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle -with Plato. -Which of the two, Stephen asked, would have banished me from his -commonwealth? -Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. -Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God noise in the street very -peripatetic. Space what you damn well have to see. Through spaces -smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepycrawl after Blake's -buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but a shadow. -Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past. -Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards his colleague. -Haines is gone, he said. -Is he? -I was showing him Jubainville's book. He's quite enthusiastic, don't -you know, about Hyde's LOVESONGS OF CONNACHT. I couldn't bring him in to -hear the discussion. He's gone to Gill's to buy it. -BOUND THEE FORTH, MY BOOKLET, QUICK -TO GREET THE CALLOUS PUBLIC. -WRIT, I WEEN, 'TWAS NOT MY WISH -IN LEAN UNLOVELY ENGLISH. -The peatsmoke is going to his head, John Eglinton opined. -We feel in England. Penitent thief. Gone. I smoked his baccy. Green -twinkling stone. An emerald set in the ring of the sea. -People do not know how dangerous lovesongs can be, the auric egg of -Russell warned occultly. The movements which work revolutions in the -world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the -hillside. For them the earth is not an exploitable ground but the living -mother. The rarefied air of the academy and the arena produce the -sixshilling novel, the musichall song. France produces the finest flower -of corruption in Mallarme but the desirable life is revealed only to the -poor of heart, the life of Homer's Phaeacians. -From these words Mr Best turned an unoffending face to Stephen. -Mallarme, don't you know, he said, has written those wonderful prose -poems Stephen MacKenna used to read to me in Paris. The one about HAMLET. -He says IL SE PROMENE, LISANT AU LIVRE DE LUIMEME, don't you know, -READING THE BOOK OF HIMSELF. He describes HAMLET given in a French town, -don't you know, a provincial town. They advertised it. -His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air. -HAMLET -OU -LE DISTRAIT -PIECE DE SHAKESPEARE -He repeated to John Eglinton's newgathered frown -PIECE DE SHAKESPEARE, don't you know. It's so French. The French point -of view. HAMLET OU ... -The absentminded beggar, Stephen ended. -John Eglinton laughed. -Yes, I suppose it would be, he said. Excellent people, no doubt, but -distressingly shortsighted in some matters. -Sumptuous and stagnant exaggeration of murder. -A deathsman of the soul Robert Greene called him, Stephen said. Not for -nothing was he a butcher's son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting -in his palms. Nine lives are taken off for his father's one. Our Father -who art in purgatory. Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot. The -bloodboltered shambles in act five is a forecast of the concentration -camp sung by Mr Swinburne. -Cranly, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar. -WHELPS AND DAMS OF MURDEROUS FOES WHOM NONE -BUT WE HAD SPARED ... -Between the Saxon smile and yankee yawp. The devil and the deep sea. -He will have it that HAMLET is a ghoststory, John Eglinton said for Mr -Best's behoof. Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to make our flesh -creep. -LIST LIST O LIST -My flesh hears him creeping, hears. -IF THOU DIDST EVER ... -What is a ghost? Stephen said with tingling energy. One who has faded -into impalpability through death, through absence, through change of -manners. Elizabethan London lay as far from Stratford as corrupt Paris -lies from virgin Dublin. Who is the ghost from LIMBO PATRUM, returning to -the world that has forgotten him? Who is King Hamlet? -John Eglinton shifted his spare body, leaning back to judge. -Lifted. -It is this hour of a day in mid June, Stephen said, begging with a -swift glance their hearing. The flag is up on the playhouse by the -bankside. The bear Sackerson growls in the pit near it, Paris garden. -Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the -groundlings. -Local colour. Work in all you know. Make them accomplices. -Shakespeare has left the huguenot's house in Silver street and walks by -the swanmews along the riverbank. But he does not stay to feed the pen -chivying her game of cygnets towards the rushes. The swan of Avon has -other thoughts. -Composition of place. Ignatius Loyola, make haste to help me -The play begins. A player comes on under the shadow, made up in the -castoff mail of a court buck, a wellset man with a bass voice. It is the -ghost, the king, a king and no king, and the player is Shakespeare who -has studied HAMLET all the years of his life which were not vanity in -order to play the part of the spectre. He speaks the words to Burbage, -the young player who stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, -calling him by a name -HAMLET, I AM THY FATHER'S SPIRIT, -bidding him list. To a son he speaks, the son of his soul, the prince, -young Hamlet and to the son of his body, Hamnet Shakespeare, who has died -in Stratford that his namesake may live for ever. -Is it possible that that player Shakespeare, a ghost by absence, and in -the vesture of buried Denmark, a ghost by death, speaking his own words -to his own son's name had Hamnet Shakespeare lived he would have been -prince Hamlet's twin, is it possible, I want to know, or probable that -he did not draw or foresee the logical conclusion of those premises you -are the dispossessed son I am the murdered father your mother is the -guilty queen, Ann Shakespeare, born Hathaway? -But this prying into the family life of a great man, Russell began -impatiently. -Art thou there, truepenny? -Interesting only to the parish clerk. I mean, we have the plays. I mean -when we read the poetry of KING LEAR what is it to us how the poet lived? -As for living our servants can do that for us, Villiers de l'Isle has -said. Peeping and prying into greenroom gossip of the day, the poet's -drinking, the poet's debts. We have KING LEAR and it is immortal. -Mr Best's face, appealed to, agreed. -FLOW OVER THEM WITH YOUR WAVES AND WITH YOUR WATERS, MANANAAN, -MANANAAN MACLIR ... -How now, sirrah, that pound he lent you when you were hungry? -Marry, I wanted it. -Take thou this noble. -Go to You spent most of it in Georgina Johnson's bed, clergyman's -daughter. Agenbite of inwit. -Do you intend to pay it back? -O, yes. -When? Now? -Well ... No. -When, then? -I paid my way. I paid my way. -Steady on. He's from beyant Boyne water. The northeast corner. You owe -it. -Wait. Five months. Molecules all change. I am other I now. Other I got -pound. -Buzz. Buzz. -But I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under -everchanging forms. -I that sinned and prayed and fasted. -A child Conmee saved from pandies. -I, I and I. I. -A.E.I.O.U. -Do you mean to fly in the face of the tradition of three centuries? -John Eglinton's carping voice asked. Her ghost at least has been laid for -ever. She died, for literature at least, before she was born. -She died, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she was born. She -saw him into and out of the world. She took his first embraces. She bore -his children and she laid pennies on his eyes to keep his eyelids closed -when he lay on his deathbed. -Mother's deathbed. Candle. The sheeted mirror. Who brought me into this -world lies there, bronzelidded, under few cheap flowers. LILIATA -RUTILANTIUM. -I wept alone. -John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp. -The world believes that Shakespeare made a mistake, he said, and got -out of it as quickly and as best he could. -Bosh Stephen said rudely. A man of genius makes no mistakes. His -errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery. -Portals of discovery opened to let in the quaker librarian, -softcreakfooted, bald, eared and assiduous. -A shrew, John Eglinton said shrewdly, is not a useful portal of -discovery, one should imagine. What useful discovery did Socrates learn -from Xanthippe? -Dialectic, Stephen answered and from his mother how to bring thoughts -into the world. What he learnt from his other wife Myrto ABSIT NOMEN, -Socratididion's Epipsychidion, no man, not a woman, will ever know. But -neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from the -archons of Sinn Fein and their naggin of hemlock. -But Ann Hathaway? Mr Best's quiet voice said forgetfully. Yes, we seem -to be forgetting her as Shakespeare himself forgot her. -His look went from brooder's beard to carper's skull, to remind, to chide -them not unkindly, then to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though -maligned. -He had a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, and no truant memory. -He carried a memory in his wallet as he trudged to Romeville whistling -THE GIRL I LEFT BEHIND ME. If the earthquake did not time it we should -know where to place poor Wat, sitting in his form, the cry of hounds, the -studded bridle and her blue windows. That memory, VENUS AND ADONIS, lay -in the bedchamber of every lightoflove in London. Is Katharine the -shrew illfavoured? Hortensio calls her young and beautiful. Do you think -the writer of ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, a passionate pilgrim, had his eyes in -the back of his head that he chose the ugliest doxy in all Warwickshire -to lie withal? Good he left her and gained the world of men. But his -boywomen are the women of a boy. Their life, thought, speech are lent -them by males. He chose badly? He was chosen, it seems to me. If others -have their will Ann hath a way. By cock, she was to blame. She put the -comether on him, sweet and twentysix. The greyeyed goddess who bends over -the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as prologue to the swelling act, is -a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a cornfield a lover younger -than herself. -And my turn? When? -Come -Ryefield, Mr Best said brightly, gladly, raising his new book, gladly, -brightly. -He murmured then with blond delight for all -BETWEEN THE ACRES OF THE RYE -THESE PRETTY COUNTRYFOLK WOULD LIE. -Paris the wellpleased pleaser. -A tall figure in bearded homespun rose from shadow and unveiled its -cooperative watch. -I am afraid I am due at the HOMESTEAD. -Whither away? Exploitable ground. -Are you going? John Eglinton's active eyebrows asked. Shall we see you -at Moore's tonight? Piper is coming. -Piper Mr Best piped. Is Piper back? -Peter Piper pecked a peck of pick of peck of pickled pepper. -I don't know if I can. Thursday. We have our meeting. If I can get away -in time. -Yogibogeybox in Dawson chambers. ISIS UNVEILED. Their Pali book we tried -to pawn. Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones an Aztec -logos, functioning on astral levels, their oversoul, mahamahatma. The -faithful hermetists await the light, ripe for chelaship, ringroundabout -him. Louis H. Victory. T. Caulfield Irwin. Lotus ladies tend them i'the -eyes, their pineal glands aglow. Filled with his god, he thrones, Buddh -under plantain. Gulfer of souls, engulfer. Hesouls, shesouls, shoals of -souls. Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they bewail. -IN QUINTESSENTIAL TRIVIALITY -FOR YEARS IN THIS FLESHCASE A SHESOUL DWELT. -They say we are to have a literary surprise, the quaker librarian said, -friendly and earnest. Mr Russell, rumour has it, is gathering together a -sheaf of our younger poets' verses. We are all looking forward anxiously. -Anxiously he glanced in the cone of lamplight where three faces, lighted, -shone. -See this. Remember. -Stephen looked down on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his -ashplanthandle over his knee. My casque and sword. Touch lightly with two -index fingers. Aristotle's experiment. One or two? Necessity is that in -virtue of which it is impossible that one can be otherwise. Argal, one -hat is one hat. -Listen. -Young Colum and Starkey. George Roberts is doing the commercial part. -Longworth will give it a good puff in the EXPRESS. O, will he? I liked -Colum's DROVER. Yes, I think he has that queer thing genius. Do you think -he has genius really? Yeats admired his line AS IN WILD EARTH A GRECIAN -VASE. Did he? I hope you'll be able to come tonight. Malachi Mulligan is -coming too. Moore asked him to bring Haines. Did you hear Miss Mitchell's -joke about Moore and Martyn? That Moore is Martyn's wild oats? Awfully -clever, isn't it? They remind one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Our -national epic has yet to be written, Dr Sigerson says. Moore is the man -for it. A knight of the rueful countenance here in Dublin. With a saffron -kilt? O'Neill Russell? O, yes, he must speak the grand old tongue. And -his Dulcinea? James Stephens is doing some clever sketches. We are -becoming important, it seems. -Cordelia. CORDOGLIO. Lir's loneliest daughter. -Nookshotten. Now your best French polish. -Thank you very much, Mr Russell, Stephen said, rising. If you will be -so kind as to give the letter to Mr Norman ... -O, yes. If he considers it important it will go in. We have so much -correspondence. -I understand, Stephen said. Thanks. -God ild you. The pigs' paper. Bullockbefriending. -Synge has promised me an article for DANA too. Are we going to be read? I -feel we are. The Gaelic league wants something in Irish. I hope you will -come round tonight. Bring Starkey. -Stephen sat down. -The quaker librarian came from the leavetakers. Blushing, his mask said -Mr Dedalus, your views are most illuminating. -He creaked to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the altitude of a -chopine, and, covered by the noise of outgoing, said low -Is it your view, then, that she was not faithful to the poet? -Alarmed face asks me. Why did he come? Courtesy or an inward light? -Where there is a reconciliation, Stephen said, there must have been -first a sundering. -Yes. -Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from -hue and cry. Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the chase. Women he won -to him, tender people, a whore of Babylon, ladies of justices, bully -tapsters' wives. Fox and geese. And in New Place a slack dishonoured body -that once was comely, once as sweet, as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves -falling, all, bare, frighted of the narrow grave and unforgiven. -Yes. So you think ... -The door closed behind the outgoer. -Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of warm and -brooding air. -A vestal's lamp. -Here he ponders things that were not what Caesar would have lived to do -had he believed the soothsayer what might have been possibilities of -the possible as possible things not known what name Achilles bore when -he lived among women. -Coffined thoughts around me, in mummycases, embalmed in spice of words. -Thoth, god of libraries, a birdgod, moonycrowned. And I heard the voice -of that Egyptian highpriest. IN PAINTED CHAMBERS LOADED WITH TILEBOOKS. -They are still. Once quick in the brains of men. Still but an itch of -death is in them, to tell me in my ear a maudlin tale, urge me to wreak -their will. -Certainly, John Eglinton mused, of all great men he is the most -enigmatic. We know nothing but that he lived and suffered. Not even so -much. Others abide our question. A shadow hangs over all the rest. -But HAMLET is so personal, isn't it? Mr Best pleaded. I mean, a kind of -private paper, don't you know, of his private life. I mean, I don't care -a button, don't you know, who is killed or who is guilty ... -He rested an innocent book on the edge of the desk, smiling his defiance. -His private papers in the original. TA AN BAD AR AN TIR. TAIM IN MO -SHAGART. Put beurla on it, littlejohn. -Quoth littlejohn Eglinton -I was prepared for paradoxes from what Malachi Mulligan told us but I -may as well warn you that if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare -is Hamlet you have a stern task before you. -Bear with me. -Stephen withstood the bane of miscreant eyes glinting stern under -wrinkled brows. A basilisk. E QUANDO VEDE L'UOMO L'ATTOSCA. Messer -Brunetto, I thank thee for the word. -As we, or mother Dana, weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, from -day to day, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so does the artist weave -and unweave his image. And as the mole on my right breast is where it was -when I was born, though all my body has been woven of new stuff time -after time, so through the ghost of the unquiet father the image of the -unliving son looks forth. In the intense instant of imagination, when the -mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am -and that which in possibility I may come to be. So in the future, the -sister of the past, I may see myself as I sit here now but by reflection -from that which then I shall be. -Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at that stile. -Yes, Mr Best said youngly. I feel Hamlet quite young. The bitterness -might be from the father but the passages with Ophelia are surely from -the son. -Has the wrong sow by the lug. He is in my father. I am in his son. -That mole is the last to go, Stephen said, laughing. -John Eglinton made a nothing pleasing mow. -If that were the birthmark of genius, he said, genius would be a drug -in the market. The plays of Shakespeare's later years which Renan admired -so much breathe another spirit. -The spirit of reconciliation, the quaker librarian breathed. -There can be no reconciliation, Stephen said, if there has not been a -sundering. -Said that. -If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over -the hell of time of KING LEAR, OTHELLO, HAMLET, TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, -look to see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a -man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, -prince of Tyre? -Head, redconecapped, buffeted, brineblinded. -A child, a girl, placed in his arms, Marina. -The leaning of sophists towards the bypaths of apocrypha is a constant -quantity, John Eglinton detected. The highroads are dreary but they lead -to the town. -Good Bacon gone musty. Shakespeare Bacon's wild oats. Cypherjugglers -going the highroads. Seekers on the great quest. What town, good masters? -Mummed in names A. E., eon Magee, John Eglinton. East of the sun, west -of the moon TIR NA NOG. Booted the twain and staved. -HOW MANY MILES TO DUBLIN? -THREE SCORE AND TEN, SIR. -WILL WE BE THERE BY CANDLELIGHT? -Mr Brandes accepts it, Stephen said, as the first play of the closing -period. -Does he? What does Mr Sidney Lee, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his -name is, say of it? -Marina, Stephen said, a child of storm, Miranda, a wonder, Perdita, -that which was lost. What was lost is given back to him his daughter's -child. MY DEAREST WIFE, Pericles says, WAS LIKE THIS MAID. Will any man -love the daughter if he has not loved the mother? -The art of being a grandfather, Mr Best gan murmur. L'ART D'ETRE GRAND -Will he not see reborn in her, with the memory of his own youth added, -another image? -Do you know what you are talking about? Love, yes. Word known to all men. -Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus ... -His own image to a man with that queer thing genius is the standard of -all experience, material and moral. Such an appeal will touch him. The -images of other males of his blood will repel him. He will see in them -grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or to repeat himself. -The benign forehead of the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with hope. -I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the enlightenment of the -public. And we ought to mention another Irish commentator, Mr George -Bernard Shaw. Nor should we forget Mr Frank Harris. His articles on -Shakespeare in the SATURDAY REVIEW were surely brilliant. Oddly enough he -too draws for us an unhappy relation with the dark lady of the sonnets. -The favoured rival is William Herbert, earl of Pembroke. I own that if -the poet must be rejected such a rejection would seem more in harmony -withwhat shall I say?our notions of what ought not to have been. -Felicitously he ceased and held a meek head among them, auk's egg, prize -of their fray. -He thous and thees her with grave husbandwords. Dost love, Miriam? Dost -love thy man? -That may be too, Stephen said. There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr -Magee likes to quote. Beware of what you wish for in youth because you -will get it in middle life. Why does he send to one who is a BUONAROBA, a -bay where all men ride, a maid of honour with a scandalous girlhood, a -lordling to woo for him? He was himself a lord of language and had made -himself a coistrel gentleman and he had written ROMEO AND JULIET. Why? -Belief in himself has been untimely killed. He was overborne in a -cornfield first ryefield, I should say and he will never be a victor in -his own eyes after nor play victoriously the game of laugh and lie down. -Assumed dongiovannism will not save him. No later undoing will undo the -first undoing. The tusk of the boar has wounded him there where love lies -ableeding. If the shrew is worsted yet there remains to her woman's -invisible weapon. There is, I feel in the words, some goad of the flesh -driving him into a new passion, a darker shadow of the first, darkening -even his own understanding of himself. A like fate awaits him and the two -rages commingle in a whirlpool. -They list. And in the porches of their ears I pour. -The soul has been before stricken mortally, a poison poured in the -porch of a sleeping ear. But those who are done to death in sleep cannot -know the manner of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls -with that knowledge in the life to come. The poisoning and the beast with -two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not know of were he not -endowed with knowledge by his creator. That is why the speech his lean -unlovely English is always turned elsewhere, backward. Ravisher and -ravished, what he would but would not, go with him from Lucrece's -bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole -cinquespotted. He goes back, weary of the creation he has piled up to -hide him from himself, an old dog licking an old sore. But, because loss -is his gain, he passes on towards eternity in undiminished personality, -untaught by the wisdom he has written or by the laws he has revealed. His -beaver is up. He is a ghost, a shadow now, the wind by Elsinore's rocks -or what you will, the sea's voice, a voice heard only in the heart of him -who is the substance of his shadow, the son consubstantial with the -father. -Amen was responded from the doorway. -Hast thou found me, O mine enemy? -ENTR'ACTE. -A ribald face, sullen as a dean's, Buck Mulligan came forward, then -blithe in motley, towards the greeting of their smiles. My telegram. -You were speaking of the gaseous vertebrate, if I mistake not? he asked -of Stephen. -Primrosevested he greeted gaily with his doffed Panama as with a bauble. -They make him welcome. WAS DU VERLACHST WIRST DU NOCH DIENEN. -Brood of mockers Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most. -He Who Himself begot middler the Holy Ghost and Himself sent Himself, -Agenbuyer, between Himself and others, Who, put upon by His fiends, -stripped and whipped, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on -crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven -and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the right hand of His -Own Self but yet shall come in the latter day to doom the quick and dead -when all the quick shall be dead already. -Glooria in excelsis Deo. -He lifts his hands. Veils fall. O, flowers Bells with bells with bells -aquiring. -Yes, indeed, the quaker librarian said. A most instructive discussion. -Mr Mulligan, I'll be bound, has his theory too of the play and of -Shakespeare. All sides of life should be represented. -He smiled on all sides equally. -Buck Mulligan thought, puzzled -Shakespeare? he said. I seem to know the name. -A flying sunny smile rayed in his loose features. -To be sure, he said, remembering brightly. The chap that writes like -Synge. -Mr Best turned to him. -Haines missed you, he said. Did you meet him? He'll see you after at -the D. B. C. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's LOVESONGS OF CONNACHT. -I came through the museum, Buck Mulligan said. Was he here? -The bard's fellowcountrymen, John Eglinton answered, are rather tired -perhaps of our brilliancies of theorising. I hear that an actress played -Hamlet for the fourhundredandeighth time last night in Dublin. Vining -held that the prince was a woman. Has noone made him out to be an -Irishman? Judge Barton, I believe, is searching for some clues. He swears -His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. -The most brilliant of all is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said, -lifting his brilliant notebook. That PORTRAIT OF MR W. H. where he proves -that the sonnets were written by a Willie Hughes, a man all hues. -For Willie Hughes, is it not? the quaker librarian asked. -Or Hughie Wills? Mr William Himself. W. H. who am I? -I mean, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best said, amending his gloss easily. Of -course it's all paradox, don't you know, Hughes and hews and hues, the -colour, but it's so typical the way he works it out. It's the very -essence of Wilde, don't you know. The light touch. -His glance touched their faces lightly as he smiled, a blond ephebe. Tame -essence of Wilde. -You're darned witty. Three drams of usquebaugh you drank with Dan Deasy's -ducats. -How much did I spend? O, a few shillings. -For a plump of pressmen. Humour wet and dry. -Wit. You would give your five wits for youth's proud livery he pranks in. -Lineaments of gratified desire. -There be many mo. Take her for me. In pairing time. Jove, a cool ruttime -send them. Yea, turtledove her. -Eve. Naked wheatbellied sin. A snake coils her, fang in's kiss. -Do you think it is only a paradox? the quaker librarian was asking. The -mocker is never taken seriously when he is most serious. -They talked seriously of mocker's seriousness. -Buck Mulligan's again heavy face eyed Stephen awhile. Then, his head -wagging, he came near, drew a folded telegram from his pocket. His mobile -lips read, smiling with new delight. -Telegram he said. Wonderful inspiration Telegram A papal bull -He sat on a corner of the unlit desk, reading aloud joyfully -THE SENTIMENTALIST IS HE WHO WOULD ENJOY WITHOUT INCURRING THE IMMENSE -DEBTORSHIP FOR A THING DONE. Signed Dedalus. Where did you launch it -from? The kips? No. College Green. Have you drunk the four quid? The aunt -is going to call on your unsubstantial father. Telegram Malachi -Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street. O, you peerless mummer O, you -priestified Kinchite -Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a -querulous brogue -It's what I'm telling you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were, -Haines and myself, the time himself brought it in. 'Twas murmur we did -for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and he limp with -leching. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's -sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. -He wailed -And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your -conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like the -drouthy clerics do be fainting for a pussful. -Stephen laughed. -Quickly, warningfully Buck Mulligan bent down. -The tramper Synge is looking for you, he said, to murder you. He heard -you pissed on his halldoor in Glasthule. He's out in pampooties to murder -you. -Me Stephen exclaimed. That was your contribution to literature. -Buck Mulligan gleefully bent back, laughing to the dark eavesdropping -ceiling. -Murder you he laughed. -Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of -lights in rue SaintAndredesArts. In words of words for words, -palabras. Oisin with Patrick. Faunman he met in Clamart woods, -brandishing a winebottle. C'EST VENDREDI SAINT Murthering Irish. His -image, wandering, he met. I mine. I met a fool i'the forest. -Mr Lyster, an attendant said from the door ajar. -... in which everyone can find his own. So Mr Justice Madden in his -DIARY OF MASTER WILLIAM SILENCE has found the hunting terms ... Yes? What -is it? -There's a gentleman here, sir, the attendant said, coming forward and -offering a card. From the FREEMAN. He wants to see the files of the -KILKENNY PEOPLE for last year. -Certainly, certainly, certainly. Is the gentleman? ... -He took the eager card, glanced, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked, -asked, creaked, asked -Is he? ... O, there -Brisk in a galliard he was off, out. In the daylit corridor he talked -with voluble pains of zeal, in duty bound, most fair, most kind, most -honest broadbrim. -This gentleman? FREEMAN'S JOURNAL? KILKENNY PEOPLE? To be sure. Good -day, sir. KILKENNY ... We have certainly ... -A patient silhouette waited, listening. -All the leading provincial ... NORTHERN WHIG, CORK EXAMINER, -ENNISCORTHY GUARDIAN, ... Will you please? ... Evans, conduct this -gentleman ... If you just follow the atten ... Or, please allow me ... -This way ... Please, sir ... -Voluble, dutiful, he led the way to all the provincial papers, a bowing -dark figure following his hasty heels. -The door closed. -The sheeny Buck Mulligan cried. -He jumped up and snatched the card. -What's his name? Ikey Moses? Bloom. -He rattled on -Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more. I found him over in the -museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. The Greek mouth that -has never been twisted in prayer. Every day we must do homage to her. -LIFE OF LIFE, THY LIPS ENKINDLE. -Suddenly he turned to Stephen -He knows you. He knows your old fellow. O, I fear me, he is Greeker -than the Greeks. His pale Galilean eyes were upon her mesial groove. -Venus Kallipyge. O, the thunder of those loins THE GOD PURSUING THE -MAIDEN HID. -We want to hear more, John Eglinton decided with Mr Best's approval. We -begin to be interested in Mrs S. Till now we had thought of her, if at -all, as a patient Griselda, a Penelope stayathome. -Antisthenes, pupil of Gorgias, Stephen said, took the palm of beauty -from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the wooden mare of Troy in -whom a score of heroes slept, and handed it to poor Penelope. Twenty -years he lived in London and, during part of that time, he drew a salary -equal to that of the lord chancellor of Ireland. His life was rich. His -art, more than the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, is the art -of surfeit. Hot herringpies, green mugs of sack, honeysauces, sugar of -roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies. Sir Walter Raleigh, -when they arrested him, had half a million francs on his back including a -pair of fancy stays. The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough -to vie with her of Sheba. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial -love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its foul pleasures. -You know Manningham's story of the burgher's wife who bade Dick Burbage -to her bed after she had seen him in RICHARD III and how Shakespeare, -overhearing, without more ado about nothing, took the cow by the horns -and, when Burbage came knocking at the gate, answered from the capon's -blankets WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR CAME BEFORE RICHARD III. And the gay -lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, and his dainty birdsnies, lady -Penelope Rich, a clean quality woman is suited for a player, and the -punks of the bankside, a penny a time. -Cours la Reine. ENCORE VINGT SOUS. NOUS FERONS DE PETITES COCHONNERIES. -MINETTE? TU VEUX? -The height of fine society. And sir William Davenant of oxford's mother -with her cup of canary for any cockcanary. -Buck Mulligan, his pious eyes upturned, prayed -Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock -And Harry of six wives' daughter. And other lady friends from neighbour -seats as Lawn Tennyson, gentleman poet, sings. But all those twenty years -what do you suppose poor Penelope in Stratford was doing behind the -diamond panes? -Do and do. Thing done. In a rosery of Fetter lane of Gerard, herbalist, -he walks, greyedauburn. An azured harebell like her veins. Lids of Juno's -eyes, violets. He walks. One life is all. One body. Do. But do. Afar, in -a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness. -Buck Mulligan rapped John Eglinton's desk sharply. -Whom do you suspect? he challenged. -Say that he is the spurned lover in the sonnets. Once spurned twice -spurned. But the court wanton spurned him for a lord, his dearmylove. -Love that dare not speak its name. -As an Englishman, you mean, John sturdy Eglinton put in, he loved a -lord. -Old wall where sudden lizards flash. At Charenton I watched them. -It seems so, Stephen said, when he wants to do for him, and for all -other and singular uneared wombs, the holy office an ostler does for the -stallion. Maybe, like Socrates, he had a midwife to mother as he had a -shrew to wife. But she, the giglot wanton, did not break a bedvow. Two -deeds are rank in that ghost's mind a broken vow and the dullbrained -yokel on whom her favour has declined, deceased husband's brother. Sweet -Ann, I take it, was hot in the blood. Once a wooer, twice a wooer. -Stephen turned boldly in his chair. -The burden of proof is with you not with me, he said frowning. If you -deny that in the fifth scene of HAMLET he has branded her with infamy -tell me why there is no mention of her during the thirtyfour years -between the day she married him and the day she buried him. All those -women saw their men down and under Mary, her goodman John, Ann, her poor -dear Willun, when he went and died on her, raging that he was the first -to go, Joan, her four brothers, Judith, her husband and all her sons, -Susan, her husband too, while Susan's daughter, Elizabeth, to use -granddaddy's words, wed her second, having killed her first. -O, yes, mention there is. In the years when he was living richly in royal -London to pay a debt she had to borrow forty shillings from her father's -shepherd. Explain you then. Explain the swansong too wherein he has -commended her to posterity. -He faced their silence. -To whom thus Eglinton -You mean the will. -But that has been explained, I believe, by jurists. -She was entitled to her widow's dower -At common law. His legal knowledge was great -Our judges tell us. -Him Satan fleers, -Mocker -And therefore he left out her name -From the first draft but he did not leave out -The presents for his granddaughter, for his daughters, -For his sister, for his old cronies in Stratford -And in London. And therefore when he was urged, -As I believe, to name her -He left her his -Secondbest -Bed. -PUNKT. -Leftherhis -Secondbest -Leftherhis -Bestabed -Secabest -Leftabed. -Woa -AMPLIUS. IN SOCIETATE HUMANA HOC EST MAXIME NECESSARIUM UT SIT AMICITIA -INTER MULTOS. -Saint Thomas, Stephen began ... -ORA PRO NOBIS, Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a chair. -There he keened a wailing rune. -POGUE MAHONE ACUSHLA MACHREE It's destroyed we are from this day -It's destroyed we are surely -All smiled their smiles. -Saint Thomas, Stephen smiling said, whose gorbellied works I enjoy -reading in the original, writing of incest from a standpoint different -from that of the new Viennese school Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in his -wise and curious way to an avarice of the emotions. He means that the -love so given to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some -stranger who, it may be, hungers for it. Jews, whom christians tax with -avarice, are of all races the most given to intermarriage. Accusations -are made in anger. The christian laws which built up the hoards of the -jews for whom, as for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their -affections too with hoops of steel. Whether these be sins or virtues old -Nobodaddy will tell us at doomsday leet. But a man who holds so tightly -to what he calls his rights over what he calls his debts will hold -tightly also to what he calls his rights over her whom he calls his wife. -No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his wife or his manservant -or his maidservant or his jackass. -Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan antiphoned. -Gentle Will is being roughly handled, gentle Mr Best said gently. -Which will? gagged sweetly Buck Mulligan. We are getting mixed. -The will to live, John Eglinton philosophised, for poor Ann, Will's -widow, is the will to die. -REQUIESCAT Stephen prayed. -WHAT OF ALL THE WILL TO DO? -IT HAS VANISHED LONG AGO ... -She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that secondbest bed, the mobled -queen, even though you prove that a bed in those days was as rare as a -motorcar is now and that its carvings were the wonder of seven parishes. -In old age she takes up with gospellers one stayed with her at New Place -and drank a quart of sack the town council paid for but in which bed he -slept it skills not to ask and heard she had a soul. She read or had -read to her his chapbooks preferring them to the MERRY WIVES and, loosing -her nightly waters on the jordan, she thought over HOOKS AND EYES FOR -BELIEVERS' BREECHES and THE MOST SPIRITUAL SNUFFBOX TO MAKE THE MOST -DEVOUT SOULS SNEEZE. Venus has twisted her lips in prayer. Agenbite of -inwit remorse of conscience. It is an age of exhausted whoredom groping -for its god. -History shows that to be true, INQUIT EGLINTONUS CHRONOLOLOGOS. The -ages succeed one another. But we have it on high authority that a man's -worst enemies shall be those of his own house and family. I feel that -Russell is right. What do we care for his wife or father? I should say -that only family poets have family lives. Falstaff was not a family man. -I feel that the fat knight is his supreme creation. -Lean, he lay back. Shy, deny thy kindred, the unco guid. Shy, supping -with the godless, he sneaks the cup. A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it -him. Visits him here on quarter days. Mr Magee, sir, there's a gentleman -to see you. Me? Says he's your father, sir. Give me my Wordsworth. Enter -Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a -buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, -a wand of wilding in his hand. -Your own? He knows your old fellow. The widower. -Hurrying to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the quayside I -touched his hand. The voice, new warmth, speaking. Dr Bob Kenny is -attending her. The eyes that wish me well. But do not know me. -A father, Stephen said, battling against hopelessness, is a necessary -evil. He wrote the play in the months that followed his father's death. -If you hold that he, a greying man with two marriageable daughters, with -thirtyfive years of life, NEL MEZZO DEL CAMMIN DI NOSTRA VITA, with fifty -of experience, is the beardless undergraduate from Wittenberg then you -must hold that his seventyyear old mother is the lustful queen. No. The -corpse of John Shakespeare does not walk the night. From hour to hour it -rots and rots. He rests, disarmed of fatherhood, having devised that -mystical estate upon his son. Boccaccio's Calandrino was the first and -last man who felt himself with child. Fatherhood, in the sense of -conscious begetting, is unknown to man. It is a mystical estate, an -apostolic succession, from only begetter to only begotten. On that -mystery and not on the madonna which the cunning Italian intellect flung -to the mob of Europe the church is founded and founded irremovably -because founded, like the world, macro and microcosm, upon the void. Upon -incertitude, upon unlikelihood. AMOR MATRIS, subjective and objective -genitive, may be the only true thing in life. Paternity may be a legal -fiction. Who is the father of any son that any son should love him or he -any son? -What the hell are you driving at? -I know. Shut up. Blast you. I have reasons. -AMPLIUS. ADHUC. ITERUM. POSTEA. -Are you condemned to do this? -They are sundered by a bodily shame so steadfast that the criminal -annals of the world, stained with all other incests and bestialities, -hardly record its breach. Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, lesbic -sisters, loves that dare not speak their name, nephews with grandmothers, -jailbirds with keyholes, queens with prize bulls. The son unborn mars -beauty born, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. He is a -new male his growth is his father's decline, his youth his father's -envy, his friend his father's enemy. -In rue MonsieurlePrince I thought it. -What links them in nature? An instant of blind rut. -Am I a father? If I were? -Shrunken uncertain hand. -Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the -field, held that the Father was Himself His Own Son. The bulldog of -Aquin, with whom no word shall be impossible, refutes him. Well if the -father who has not a son be not a father can the son who has not a father -be a son? When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the -same name in the comedy of errors wrote HAMLET he was not the father of -his own son merely but, being no more a son, he was and felt himself the -father of all his race, the father of his own grandfather, the father of -his unborn grandson who, by the same token, never was born, for nature, -as Mr Magee understands her, abhors perfection. -Eglintoneyes, quick with pleasure, looked up shybrightly. Gladly -glancing, a merry puritan, through the twisted eglantine. -Flatter. Rarely. But flatter. -Himself his own father, Sonmulligan told himself. Wait. I am big with -child. I have an unborn child in my brain. Pallas Athena A play The -play's the thing Let me parturiate -He clasped his paunchbrow with both birthaiding hands. -As for his family, Stephen said, his mother's name lives in the forest -of Arden. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in -CORIOLANUS. His boyson's death is the deathscene of young Arthur in KING -JOHN. Hamlet, the black prince, is Hamnet Shakespeare. Who the girls in -THE TEMPEST, in PERICLES, in WINTER'S TALE are we know. Who Cleopatra, -fleshpot of Egypt, and Cressid and Venus are we may guess. But there is -another member of his family who is recorded. -The plot thickens, John Eglinton said. -The quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, quake, his mask, quake, with -haste, quake, quack. -Door closed. Cell. Day. -They list. Three. They. -I you he they. -Come, mess. -STEPHEN He had three brothers, Gilbert, Edmund, Richard. Gilbert in his -old age told some cavaliers he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer -one time mass he did and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up -in Lunnon in a wrastling play wud a man on's back. The playhouse sausage -filled Gilbert's soul. He is nowhere but an Edmund and a Richard are -recorded in the works of sweet William. -MAGEEGLINJOHN Names What's in a name? -BEST That is my name, Richard, don't you know. I hope you are going to -say a good word for Richard, don't you know, for my sake. -Laughter -BUCKMULLIGAN PIANO, DIMINUENDO -Then outspoke medical Dick -To his comrade medical Davy ... -STEPHEN In his trinity of black Wills, the villain shakebags, Iago, -Richard Crookback, Edmund in KING LEAR, two bear the wicked uncles' -names. Nay, that last play was written or being written while his brother -Edmund lay dying in Southwark. -BEST I hope Edmund is going to catch it. I don't want Richard, my -name ... -Laughter -QUAKERLYSTER A TEMPO But he that filches from me my good name ... -STEPHEN STRINGENDO He has hidden his own name, a fair name, William, -in the plays, a super here, a clown there, as a painter of old Italy set -his face in a dark corner of his canvas. He has revealed it in the -sonnets where there is Will in overplus. Like John o'Gaunt his name is -dear to him, as dear as the coat and crest he toadied for, on a bend -sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than -his glory of greatest shakescene in the country. What's in a name? That -is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name that we are -told is ours. A star, a daystar, a firedrake, rose at his birth. It shone -by day in the heavens alone, brighter than Venus in the night, and by -night it shone over delta in Cassiopeia, the recumbent constellation -which is the signature of his initial among the stars. His eyes watched -it, lowlying on the horizon, eastward of the bear, as he walked by the -slumberous summer fields at midnight returning from Shottery and from her -arms. -Both satisfied. I too. -Don't tell them he was nine years old when it was quenched. -And from her arms. -Wait to be wooed and won. Ay, meacock. Who will woo you? -Read the skies. AUTONTIMORUMENOS. BOUS STEPHANOUMENOS. Where's your -configuration? Stephen, Stephen, cut the bread even. S. D SUA DONNA. -GIA DI LUI. GELINDO RISOLVE DI NON AMARE S. D. -What is that, Mr Dedalus? the quaker librarian asked. Was it a -celestial phenomenon? -A star by night, Stephen said. A pillar of the cloud by day. -What more's to speak? -Stephen looked on his hat, his stick, his boots. -STEPHANOS, my crown. My sword. His boots are spoiling the shape of -my feet. Buy a pair. Holes in my socks. Handkerchief too. -You make good use of the name, John Eglinton allowed. Your own name -is strange enough. I suppose it explains your fantastical humour. -Me, Magee and Mulligan. -Fabulous artificer. The hawklike man. You flew. Whereto? -NewhavenDieppe, steerage passenger. Paris and back. Lapwing. Icarus. -PATER, AIT. Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering. Lapwing you are. Lapwing be. -Mr Best eagerquietly lifted his book to say -That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, we -find also in the old Irish myths. Just what you say. The three brothers -Shakespeare. In Grimm too, don't you know, the fairytales. The third -brother that always marries the sleeping beauty and wins the best prize. -Best of Best brothers. Good, better, best. -The quaker librarian springhalted near. -I should like to know, he said, which brother you ... I understand you -to suggest there was misconduct with one of the brothers ... But -perhaps I am anticipating? -He caught himself in the act looked at all refrained. -An attendant from the doorway called -Mr Lyster Father Dineen wants ... -O, Father Dineen Directly. -Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was rectly gone. -John Eglinton touched the foil. -Come, he said. Let us hear what you have to say of Richard and -Edmund. You kept them for the last, didn't you? -In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and -nuncle Edmund, Stephen answered, I feel I am asking too much perhaps. A -brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella. -Lapwing. -Where is your brother? Apothecaries' hall. My whetstone. Him, then -Cranly, Mulligan now these. Speech, speech. But act. Act speech. They -mock to try you. Act. Be acted on. -Lapwing. -I am tired of my voice, the voice of Esau. My kingdom for a drink. -On. -You will say those names were already in the chronicles from which he -took the stuff of his plays. Why did he take them rather than others? -Richard, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a widowed -Ann what's in a name?, woos and wins her, a whoreson merry widow. -Richard the conqueror, third brother, came after William the conquered. -The other four acts of that play hang limply from that first. Of all his -kings Richard is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, -the angel of the world. Why is the underplot of KING LEAR in which Edmund -figures lifted out of Sidney's ARCADIA and spatchcocked on to a Celtic -legend older than history? -That was Will's way, John Eglinton defended. We should not now -combine a Norse saga with an excerpt from a novel by George Meredith. -QUE VOULEZVOUS? Moore would say. He puts Bohemia on the seacoast and -makes Ulysses quote Aristotle. -Why? Stephen answered himself. Because the theme of the false or the -usurping or the adulterous brother or all three in one is to Shakespeare, -what the poor are not, always with him. The note of banishment, -banishment from the heart, banishment from home, sounds uninterruptedly -from THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA onward till Prospero breaks his staff, -buries it certain fathoms in the earth and drowns his book. It doubles -itself in the middle of his life, reflects itself in another, repeats -itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. It repeats -itself again when he is near the grave, when his married daughter -Susan, chip of the old block, is accused of adultery. But it was -the original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his -will and left in him a strong inclination to evil. The words are -those of my lords bishops of Maynooth. An original sin and, like original -sin, committed by another in whose sin he too has sinned. It is between -the lines of his last written words, it is petrified on his tombstone -under which her four bones are not to be laid. Age has not withered it. -Beauty and peace have not done it away. It is in infinite variety -everywhere in the world he has created, in MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, twice -in AS YOU LIKE IT, in THE TEMPEST, in HAMLET, in MEASURE FOR MEASUREand -in all the other plays which I have not read. -He laughed to free his mind from his mind's bondage. -Judge Eglinton summed up. -The truth is midway, he affirmed. He is the ghost and the prince. He is -all in all. -He is, Stephen said. The boy of act one is the mature man of act five. -All in all. In CYMBELINE, in OTHELLO he is bawd and cuckold. He acts and -is acted on. Lover of an ideal or a perversion, like Jose he kills the -real Carmen. His unremitting intellect is the hornmad Iago ceaselessly -willing that the moor in him shall suffer. -Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuck Mulligan clucked lewdly. O word of fear -Dark dome received, reverbed. -And what a character is Iago undaunted John Eglinton exclaimed. -When all is said Dumas FILS or is it Dumas PERE? is right. After God -Shakespeare has created most. -Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen said. He returns after -a life of absence to that spot of earth where he was born, where he has -always been, man and boy, a silent witness and there, his journey of life -ended, he plants his mulberrytree in the earth. Then dies. The motion is -ended. Gravediggers bury Hamlet PERE and Hamlet FILS. A king and a -prince at last in death, with incidental music. And, what though murdered -and betrayed, bewept by all frail tender hearts for, Dane or Dubliner, -sorrow for the dead is the only husband from whom they refuse to be -divorced. If you like the epilogue look long on it prosperous Prospero, -the good man rewarded, Lizzie, grandpa's lump of love, and nuncle Richie, -the bad man taken off by poetic justice to the place where the bad niggers -go. Strong curtain. He found in the world without as actual what was in his -world within as possible. Maeterlinck says IF SOCRATES LEAVE HIS HOUSE -TODAY HE WILL FIND THE SAGE SEATED ON HIS DOORSTEP. IF JUDAS GO FORTH -TONIGHT IT IS TO JUDAS HIS STEPS WILL TEND. Every life is many days, -day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, -old men, young men, wives, widows, brothersinlove, but always meeting -ourselves. The playwright who wrote the folio of this world and wrote it -badly He gave us light first and the sun two days later, the lord of -things as they are whom the most Roman of catholics call DIO BOIA, -hangman god, is doubtless all in all in all of us, ostler and butcher, -and would be bawd and cuckold too but that in the economy of heaven, -foretold by Hamlet, there are no more marriages, glorified man, an -androgynous angel, being a wife unto himself. -EUREKA Buck Mulligan cried. EUREKA -Suddenly happied he jumped up and reached in a stride John Eglinton's -desk. -May I? he said. The Lord has spoken to Malachi. -He began to scribble on a slip of paper. -Take some slips from the counter going out. -Those who are married, Mr Best, douce herald, said, all save one, shall -live. The rest shall keep as they are. -He laughed, unmarried, at Eglinton Johannes, of arts a bachelor. -Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they fingerponder nightly each his -variorum edition of THE TAMING OF THE SHREW. -You are a delusion, said roundly John Eglinton to Stephen. You have -brought us all this way to show us a French triangle. Do you believe your -own theory? -No, Stephen said promptly. -Are you going to write it? Mr Best asked. You ought to make it a -dialogue, don't you know, like the Platonic dialogues Wilde wrote. -John Eclecticon doubly smiled. -Well, in that case, he said, I don't see why you should expect payment -for it since you don't believe it yourself. Dowden believes there is some -mystery in HAMLET but will say no more. Herr Bleibtreu, the man Piper met -in Berlin, who is working up that Rutland theory, believes that the secret -is hidden in the Stratford monument. He is going to visit the present -duke, Piper says, and prove to him that his ancestor wrote the plays. -It will come as a surprise to his grace. But he believes his theory. -I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief. That is, help me to believe or help -me to unbelieve? Who helps to believe? EGOMEN. Who to unbelieve? Other -chap. -You are the only contributor to DANA who asks for pieces of silver. Then -I don't know about the next number. Fred Ryan wants space for an article -on economics. -Fraidrine. Two pieces of silver he lent me. Tide you over. Economics. -For a guinea, Stephen said, you can publish this interview. -Buck Mulligan stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing and -then gravely said, honeying malice -I called upon the bard Kinch at his summer residence in upper -Mecklenburgh street and found him deep in the study of the SUMMA CONTRA -GENTILES in the company of two gonorrheal ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, -the coalquay whore. -He broke away. -Come, Kinch. Come, wandering Aengus of the birds. -Come, Kinch. You have eaten all we left. Ay. I will serve you your orts -and offals. -Stephen rose. -Life is many days. This will end. -We shall see you tonight, John Eglinton said. NOTRE AMI Moore says -Malachi Mulligan must be there. -Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama. -Monsieur Moore, he said, lecturer on French letters to the youth of -Ireland. I'll be there. Come, Kinch, the bards must drink. Can you walk -straight? -Laughing, he ... -Swill till eleven. Irish nights entertainment. -Lubber ... -Stephen followed a lubber ... -One day in the national library we had a discussion. Shakes. After. -His lub back I followed. I gall his kibe. -Stephen, greeting, then all amort, followed a lubber jester, a -wellkempt head, newbarbered, out of the vaulted cell into a shattering -daylight of no thought. -What have I learned? Of them? Of me? -Walk like Haines now. -The constant readers' room. In the readers' book Cashel Boyle -O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell parafes his polysyllables. Item was -Hamlet mad? The quaker's pate godlily with a priesteen in booktalk. -O please do, sir ... I shall be most pleased ... -Amused Buck Mulligan mused in pleasant murmur with himself, selfnodding -A pleased bottom. -The turnstile. -Is that? ... Blueribboned hat ... Idly writing ... What? Looked? ... -The curving balustrade smoothsliding Mincius. -Puck Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling -JOHN EGLINTON, MY JO, JOHN, -WHY WON'T YOU WED A WIFE? -He spluttered to the air -O, the chinless Chinaman Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. We went over to their -playbox, Haines and I, the plumbers' hall. Our players are creating a new -art for Europe like the Greeks or M. Maeterlinck. Abbey Theatre I smell -the pubic sweat of monks. -He spat blank. -Forgot any more than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him. -And left the FEMME DE TRENTE ANS. And why no other children born? And his -first child a girl? -Afterwit. Go back. -The dour recluse still there he has his cake and the douce youngling, -minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair. -Eh ... I just eh ... wanted ... I forgot ... he ... -Longworth and M'Curdy Atkinson were there ... -Puck Mulligan footed featly, trilling -I HARDLY HEAR THE PURLIEU CRY -OR A TOMMY TALK AS I PASS ONE BY -BEFORE MY THOUGHTS BEGIN TO RUN -ON F. M'CURDY ATKINSON, -THE SAME THAT HAD THE WOODEN LEG -AND THAT FILIBUSTERING FILIBEG -THAT NEVER DARED TO SLAKE HIS DROUTH, -MAGEE THAT HAD THE CHINLESS MOUTH. -BEING AFRAID TO MARRY ON EARTH -THEY MASTURBATED FOR ALL THEY WERE WORTH. -Jest on. Know thyself. -Halted, below me, a quizzer looks at me. I halt. -Mournful mummer, Buck Mulligan moaned. Synge has left off wearing -black to be like nature. Only crows, priests and English coal are black. -A laugh tripped over his lips. -Longworth is awfully sick, he said, after what you wrote about that old -hake Gregory. O you inquisitional drunken jewjesuit She gets you a job on -the paper and then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Couldn't you do -the Yeats touch? -He went on and down, mopping, chanting with waving graceful arms -The most beautiful book that has come out of our country in my time. -One thinks of Homer. -He stopped at the stairfoot. -I have conceived a play for the mummers, he said solemnly. -The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined. Gone the nine men's -morrice with caps of indices. -In sweetly varying voices Buck Mulligan read his tablet -EVERYMAN HIS OWN WIFE -OR -A HONEYMOON IN THE HAND -A NATIONAL IMMORALITY IN THREE ORGASMS -BY -BALLOCKY MULLIGAN -He turned a happy patch's smirk to Stephen, saying -The disguise, I fear, is thin. But listen. -He read, MARCATO -Characters -TODY TOSTOFF a ruined Pole -CRAB a bushranger -MEDICAL DICK -and two birds with one stone -MEDICAL DAVY -MOTHER GROGAN a watercarrier -FRESH NELLY -and -ROSALIE the coalquay whore. -He laughed, lolling a to and fro head, walking on, followed by Stephen -and mirthfully he told the shadows, souls of men -O, the night in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin had to lift -their skirts to step over you as you lay in your mulberrycoloured, -multicoloured, multitudinous vomit -The most innocent son of Erin, Stephen said, for whom they ever lifted -them. -About to pass through the doorway, feeling one behind, he stood aside. -Part. The moment is now. Where then? If Socrates leave his house -today, if Judas go forth tonight. Why? That lies in space which I in time -must come to, ineluctably. -My will his will that fronts me. Seas between. -A man passed out between them, bowing, greeting. -Good day again, Buck Mulligan said. -The portico. -Here I watched the birds for augury. Aengus of the birds. They go, -they come. Last night I flew. Easily flew. Men wondered. Street of harlots -after. A creamfruit melon he held to me. In. You will see. -The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan whispered with clown's awe. Did you -see his eye? He looked upon you to lust after you. I fear thee, ancient -mariner. O, Kinch, thou art in peril. Get thee a breechpad. -Manner of Oxenford. -Day. Wheelbarrow sun over arch of bridge. -A dark back went before them, step of a pard, down, out by the -gateway, under portcullis barbs. -They followed. -Offend me still. Speak on. -Kind air defined the coigns of houses in Kildare street. No birds. Frail -from the housetops two plumes of smoke ascended, pluming, and in a flaw -of softness softly were blown. -Cease to strive. Peace of the druid priests of Cymbeline hierophantic -from wide earth an altar. -LAUD WE THE GODS -AND LET OUR CROOKED SMOKES CLIMB TO THEIR NOSTRILS -FROM OUR BLESS'D ALTARS. -The superior, the very reverend John Conmee S.J. reset his smooth -watch in his interior pocket as he came down the presbytery steps. Five to -three. Just nice time to walk to Artane. What was that boy's name again? -Dignam. Yes. VERE DIGNUM ET IUSTUM EST. Brother Swan was the person to -see. Mr Cunningham's letter. Yes. Oblige him, if possible. Good practical -catholic useful at mission time. -A onelegged sailor, swinging himself onward by lazy jerks of his -crutches, growled some notes. He jerked short before the convent of the -sisters of charity and held out a peaked cap for alms towards the very -reverend John Conmee S. J. Father Conmee blessed him in the sun for his -purse held, he knew, one silver crown. -Father Conmee crossed to Mountjoy square. He thought, but not for -long, of soldiers and sailors, whose legs had been shot off by -cannonballs, ending their days in some pauper ward, and of cardinal -Wolsey's words IF I HAD SERVED MY GOD AS I HAVE SERVED MY KING HE WOULD -NOT HAVE ABANDONED ME IN MY OLD DAYS. He walked by the treeshade of -sunnywinking leaves and towards him came the wife of Mr David Sheehy -M.P. -Very well, indeed, father. And you, father? -Father Conmee was wonderfully well indeed. He would go to Buxton -probably for the waters. And her boys, were they getting on well at -Belvedere? Was that so? Father Conmee was very glad indeed to hear that. -And Mr Sheehy himself? Still in London. The house was still sitting, to be -sure it was. Beautiful weather it was, delightful indeed. Yes, it was very -probable that Father Bernard Vaughan would come again to preach. O, -yes a very great success. A wonderful man really. -Father Conmee was very glad to see the wife of Mr David Sheehy -M.P. Iooking so well and he begged to be remembered to Mr David Sheehy -M.P. Yes, he would certainly call. -Good afternoon, Mrs Sheehy. -Father Conmee doffed his silk hat and smiled, as he took leave, at the -jet beads of her mantilla inkshining in the sun. And smiled yet again, in -going. He had cleaned his teeth, he knew, with arecanut paste. -Father Conmee walked and, walking, smiled for he thought on Father -Bernard Vaughan's droll eyes and cockney voice. -Pilate Wy don't you old back that owlin mob? -A zealous man, however. Really he was. And really did great good in. -his way. Beyond a doubt. He loved Ireland, he said, and he loved the -Irish. Of good family too would one think it? Welsh, were they not? -O, lest he forget. That letter to father provincial. -Father Conmee stopped three little schoolboys at the corner of -Mountjoy square. Yes they were from Belvedere. The little house. Aha. -And were they good boys at school? O. That was very good now. And what -was his name? Jack Sohan. And his name? Ger. Gallaher. And the other -little man? His name was Brunny Lynam. O, that was a very nice name to -have. -Father Conmee gave a letter from his breast to Master Brunny Lynam -and pointed to the red pillarbox at the corner of Fitzgibbon street. -But mind you don't post yourself into the box, little man, he said. -The boys sixeyed Father Conmee and laughed -O, sir. -Well, let me see if you can post a letter, Father Conmee said. -Master Brunny Lynam ran across the road and put Father Conmee's -letter to father provincial into the mouth of the bright red letterbox. -Father Conmee smiled and nodded and smiled and walked along Mountjoy -square east. -Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing c, in silk hat, slate -frockcoat with silk facings, white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers, -canary gloves and pointed patent boots, walking with grave deportment -most respectfully took the curbstone as he passed lady Maxwell at the -corner of Dignam's court. -Was that not Mrs M'Guinness? -Mrs M'Guinness, stately, silverhaired, bowed to Father Conmee from -the farther footpath along which she sailed. And Father Conmee smiled and -saluted. How did she do? -A fine carriage she had. Like Mary, queen of Scots, something. And to -think that she was a pawnbroker Well, now Such a ... what should he -say? ... such a queenly mien. -Father Conmee walked down Great Charles street and glanced at the -shutup free church on his left. The reverend T. R. Greene B.A. will D.V. -speak. The incumbent they called him. He felt it incumbent on him to say a -few words. But one should be charitable. Invincible ignorance. They acted -according to their lights. -Father Conmee turned the corner and walked along the North -Circular road. It was a wonder that there was not a tramline in such an -important thoroughfare. Surely, there ought to be. -A band of satchelled schoolboys crossed from Richmond street. All -raised untidy caps. Father Conmee greeted them more than once benignly. -Christian brother boys. -Father Conmee smelt incense on his right hand as he walked. Saint -Joseph's church, Portland row. For aged and virtuous females. Father -Conmee raised his hat to the Blessed Sacrament. Virtuous but occasionally -they were also badtempered. -Near Aldborough house Father Conmee thought of that spendthrift -nobleman. And now it was an office or something. -Father Conmee began to walk along the North Strand road and was -saluted by Mr William Gallagher who stood in the doorway of his shop. -Father Conmee saluted Mr William Gallagher and perceived the odours -that came from baconflitches and ample cools of butter. He passed -Grogan's the Tobacconist against which newsboards leaned and told of a -dreadful catastrophe in New York. In America those things were -continually happening. Unfortunate people to die like that, unprepared. -Still, an act of perfect contrition. -Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin's publichouse against the -window of which two unlabouring men lounged. They saluted him and -were saluted. -Father Conmee passed H. J. O'Neill's funeral establishment where -Corny Kelleher totted figures in the daybook while he chewed a blade of -hay. A constable on his beat saluted Father Conmee and Father Conmee -saluted the constable. In Youkstetter's, the porkbutcher's, Father Conmee -observed pig's puddings, white and black and red, lie neatly curled in -tubes. -Moored under the trees of Charleville Mall Father Conmee saw a -turfbarge, a towhorse with pendent head, a bargeman with a hat of dirty -straw seated amidships, smoking and staring at a branch of poplar above -him. It was idyllic and Father Conmee reflected on the providence of the -Creator who had made turf to be in bogs whence men might dig it out and -bring it to town and hamlet to make fires in the houses of poor people. -On Newcomen bridge the very reverend John Conmee S.J. of saint -Francis Xavier's church, upper Gardiner street, stepped on to an outward -bound tram. -Off an inward bound tram stepped the reverend Nicholas Dudley -C. C. of saint Agatha's church, north William street, on to Newcomen -bridge. -At Newcomen bridge Father Conmee stepped into an outward bound -tram for he disliked to traverse on foot the dingy way past Mud Island. -Father Conmee sat in a corner of the tramcar, a blue ticket tucked -with care in the eye of one plump kid glove, while four shillings, a -sixpence and five pennies chuted from his other plump glovepalm into his -purse. Passing the ivy church he reflected that the ticket inspector -usually made his visit when one had carelessly thrown away the ticket. -The solemnity of the occupants of the car seemed to Father Conmee -excessive for a journey so short and cheap. Father Conmee liked cheerful -decorum. -It was a peaceful day. The gentleman with the glasses opposite Father -Conmee had finished explaining and looked down. His wife, Father -Conmee supposed. A tiny yawn opened the mouth of the wife of the gentleman -with the glasses. She raised her small gloved fist, yawned ever so gently, -tiptapping her small gloved fist on her opening mouth and smiled tinily, -sweetly. -Father Conmee perceived her perfume in the car. He perceived also -that the awkward man at the other side of her was sitting on the edge of -the seat. -Father Conmee at the altarrails placed the host with difficulty in the -mouth of the awkward old man who had the shaky head. -At Annesley bridge the tram halted and, when it was about to go, an -old woman rose suddenly from her place to alight. The conductor pulled -the bellstrap to stay the car for her. She passed out with her basket and -a marketnet and Father Conmee saw the conductor help her and net and -basket down and Father Conmee thought that, as she had nearly passed -the end of the penny fare, she was one of those good souls who had always -to be told twice BLESS YOU, MY CHILD, that they have been absolved, PRAY -FOR ME. But they had so many worries in life, so many cares, poor -creatures. -From the hoardings Mr Eugene Stratton grimaced with thick niggerlips at -Father Conmee. -Father Conmee thought of the souls of black and brown and yellow -men and of his sermon on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the African mission -and of the propagation of the faith and of the millions of black and brown -and yellow souls that had not received the baptism of water when their last -hour came like a thief in the night. That book by the Belgian jesuit, LE -NOMBRE DES ELUS, seemed to Father Conmee a reasonable plea. Those were -millions of human souls created by God in His Own likeness to whom the -faith had not D.V. been brought. But they were God's souls, created by -God. It seemed to Father Conmee a pity that they should all be lost, a -waste, if one might say. -At the Howth road stop Father Conmee alighted, was saluted by the -conductor and saluted in his turn. -The Malahide road was quiet. It pleased Father Conmee, road and -name. The joybells were ringing in gay Malahide. Lord Talbot de Malahide, -immediate hereditary lord admiral of Malahide and the seas adjoining. -Then came the call to arms and she was maid, wife and widow in one day. -Those were old worldish days, loyal times in joyous townlands, old times -in the barony. -Father Conmee, walking, thought of his little book OLD TIMES IN THE -BARONY and of the book that might be written about jesuit houses and of -Mary Rochfort, daughter of lord Molesworth, first countess of Belvedere. -A listless lady, no more young, walked alone the shore of lough -Ennel, Mary, first countess of Belvedere, listlessly walking in the -evening, not startled when an otter plunged. Who could know the truth? -Not the jealous lord Belvedere and not her confessor if she had not -committed adultery fully, EIACULATIO SEMINIS INTER VAS NATURALE MULIERIS, -with her husband's brother? She would half confess if she had not all -sinned as women did. Only God knew and she and he, her husband's brother. -Father Conmee thought of that tyrannous incontinence, needed -however for man's race on earth, and of the ways of God which were not -our ways. -Don John Conmee walked and moved in times of yore. He was -humane and honoured there. He bore in mind secrets confessed and he -smiled at smiling noble faces in a beeswaxed drawingroom, ceiled with full -fruit clusters. And the hands of a bride and of a bridegroom, noble to -noble, were impalmed by Don John Conmee. -It was a charming day. -The lychgate of a field showed Father Conmee breadths of cabbages, -curtseying to him with ample underleaves. The sky showed him a flock of -small white clouds going slowly down the wind. MOUTONNER, the French -said. A just and homely word. -Father Conmee, reading his office, watched a flock of muttoning -clouds over Rathcoffey. His thinsocked ankles were tickled by the stubble -of Clongowes field. He walked there, reading in the evening, and heard the -cries of the boys' lines at their play, young cries in the quiet evening. -He was their rector his reign was mild. -Father Conmee drew off his gloves and took his rededged breviary out. -An ivory bookmark told him the page. -Nones. He should have read that before lunch. But lady Maxwell had come. -Father Conmee read in secret PATER and AVE and crossed his breast. -DEUS IN ADIUTORIUM. -He walked calmly and read mutely the nones, walking and reading till -he came to RES in BEATI IMMACULATI PRINCIPIUM VERBORUM TUORUM VERITAS -IN ETERNUM OMNIA INDICIA IUSTITIAE TUAE. -A flushed young man came from a gap of a hedge and after him came -a young woman with wild nodding daisies in her hand. The young man -raised his cap abruptly the young woman abruptly bent and with slow care -detached from her light skirt a clinging twig. -Father Conmee blessed both gravely and turned a thin page of his -breviary. SIN PRINCIPES PERSECUTI SUNT ME GRATIS ET A VERBIS TUIS -FORMIDAVIT COR MEUM. -Corny Kelleher closed his long daybook and glanced with his -drooping eye at a pine coffinlid sentried in a corner. He pulled himself -erect, went to it and, spinning it on its axle, viewed its shape and brass -furnishings. Chewing his blade of hay he laid the coffinlid by and came to -the doorway. There he tilted his hatbrim to give shade to his eyes and -leaned against the doorcase, looking idly out. -Father John Conmee stepped into the Dollymount tram on -Newcomen bridge. -Corny Kelleher locked his largefooted boots and gazed, his hat -downtilted, chewing his blade of hay. -Constable C, on his beat, stood to pass the time of day. -That's a fine day, Mr Kelleher. -Ay, Corny Kelleher said. -It's very close, the constable said. -Corny Kelleher sped a silent jet of hayjuice arching from his mouth -while a generous white arm from a window in Eccles street flung forth a -coin. -What's the best news? he asked. -I seen that particular party last evening, the constable said with bated -breath. -A onelegged sailor crutched himself round MacConnell's corner, -skirting Rabaiotti's icecream car, and jerked himself up Eccles street. -Towards Larry O'Rourke, in shirtsleeves in his doorway, he growled -unamiably -FOR ENGLAND ... -He swung himself violently forward past Katey and Boody Dedalus, -halted and growled -HOME AND BEAUTY. -J. J. O'Molloy's white careworn face was told that Mr Lambert was -in the warehouse with a visitor. -A stout lady stopped, took a copper coin from her purse and dropped -it into the cap held out to her. The sailor grumbled thanks, glanced -sourly at the unheeding windows, sank his head and swung himself forward -four strides. -He halted and growled angrily -FOR ENGLAND ... -Two barefoot urchins, sucking long liquorice laces, halted near him, -gaping at his stump with their yellowslobbered mouths. -He swung himself forward in vigorous jerks, halted, lifted his head -towards a window and bayed deeply -HOME AND BEAUTY. -The gay sweet chirping whistling within went on a bar or two, ceased. -The blind of the window was drawn aside. A card UNFURNISHED APARTMENTS -slipped from the sash and fell. A plump bare generous arm shone, was seen, -held forth from a white petticoatbodice and taut shiftstraps. A woman's -hand flung forth a coin over the area railings. It fell on the path. -One of the urchins ran to it, picked it up and dropped it into the -minstrel's cap, saying -There, sir. -Katey and Boody Dedalus shoved in the door of the closesteaming -kitchen. -Did you put in the books? Boody asked. -Maggy at the range rammed down a greyish mass beneath bubbling -suds twice with her potstick and wiped her brow. -They wouldn't give anything on them, she said. -Father Conmee walked through Clongowes fields, his thinsocked -ankles tickled by stubble. -Where did you try? Boody asked. -M'Guinness's. -Boody stamped her foot and threw her satchel on the table. -Bad cess to her big face she cried. -Katey went to the range and peered with squinting eyes. -What's in the pot? she asked. -Shirts, Maggy said. -Boody cried angrily -Crickey, is there nothing for us to eat? -Katey, lifting the kettlelid in a pad of her stained skirt, asked -And what's in this? -A heavy fume gushed in answer. -Peasoup, Maggy said. -Where did you get it? Katey asked. -Sister Mary Patrick, Maggy said. -The lacquey rang his bell. -Barang -Boody sat down at the table and said hungrily -Give us it here. -Maggy poured yellow thick soup from the kettle into a bowl. Katey, -sitting opposite Boody, said quietly, as her fingertip lifted to her mouth -random crumbs -A good job we have that much. Where's Dilly? -Gone to meet father, Maggy said. -Boody, breaking big chunks of bread into the yellow soup, added -Our father who art not in heaven. -Maggy, pouring yellow soup in Katey's bowl, exclaimed -Boody For shame -A skiff, a crumpled throwaway, Elijah is coming, rode lightly down -the Liffey, under Loopline bridge, shooting the rapids where water chafed -around the bridgepiers, sailing eastward past hulls and anchorchains, -between the Customhouse old dock and George's quay. -The blond girl in Thornton's bedded the wicker basket with rustling -fibre. Blazes Boylan handed her the bottle swathed in pink tissue paper -and a small jar. -Put these in first, will you? he said. -Yes, sir, the blond girl said. And the fruit on top. -That'll do, game ball, Blazes Boylan said. -She bestowed fat pears neatly, head by tail, and among them ripe -shamefaced peaches. -Blazes Boylan walked here and there in new tan shoes about the -fruitsmelling shop, lifting fruits, young juicy crinkled and plump red -tomatoes, sniffing smells. -H. E. L. Y.'S filed before him, tallwhitehatted, past Tangier lane, -plodding towards their goal. -He turned suddenly from a chip of strawberries, drew a gold watch -from his fob and held it at its chain's length. -Can you send them by tram? Now? -A darkbacked figure under Merchants' arch scanned books on the -hawker's cart. -Certainly, sir. Is it in the city? -O, yes, Blazes Boylan said. Ten minutes. -The blond girl handed him a docket and pencil. -Will you write the address, sir? -Blazes Boylan at the counter wrote and pushed the docket to her. -Send it at once, will you? he said. It's for an invalid. -Yes, sir. I will, sir. -Blazes Boylan rattled merry money in his trousers' pocket. -What's the damage? he asked. -The blond girl's slim fingers reckoned the fruits. -Blazes Boylan looked into the cut of her blouse. A young pullet. He -took a red carnation from the tall stemglass. -This for me? he asked gallantly. -The blond girl glanced sideways at him, got up regardless, with his tie -a bit crooked, blushing. -Yes, sir, she said. -Bending archly she reckoned again fat pears and blushing peaches. -Blazes Boylan looked in her blouse with more favour, the stalk of the -red flower between his smiling teeth. -May I say a word to your telephone, missy? he asked roguishly. -MA Almidano Artifoni said. -He gazed over Stephen's shoulder at Goldsmith's knobby poll. -Two carfuls of tourists passed slowly, their women sitting fore, -gripping the handrests. Palefaces. Men's arms frankly round their stunted -forms. They looked from Trinity to the blind columned porch of the bank -of Ireland where pigeons roocoocooed. -ANCH'IO HO AVUTO DI QUESTE IDEE, Almidano Artifoni said, QUAND' ERO -GIOVINE COME LEI. EPPOI MI SONO CONVINTO CHE IL MONDO E UNA BESTIA. -PECCATO. PERCHE LA SUA VOCE ... SAREBBE UN CESPITE DI RENDITA, VIA. -INVECE, LEI SI SACRIFICA. -SACRIFIZIO INCRUENTO, Stephen said smiling, swaying his ashplant in slow -swingswong from its midpoint, lightly. -SPERIAMO, the round mustachioed face said pleasantly. MA, DIA RETTA A -ME. CI RIFLETTA. -By the stern stone hand of Grattan, bidding halt, an Inchicore tram -unloaded straggling Highland soldiers of a band. -CI RIFLETTERO, Stephen said, glancing down the solid trouserleg. -MA, SUL SERIO, EH? Almidano Artifoni said. -His heavy hand took Stephen's firmly. Human eyes. They gazed -curiously an instant and turned quickly towards a Dalkey tram. -ECCOLO, Almidano Artifoni said in friendly haste. VENGA A TROVARMI E CI -PENSI. ADDIO, CARO. -ARRIVEDERLA, MAESTRO, Stephen said, raising his hat when his hand was -freed. E GRAZIE. -DI CHE? Almidano Artifoni said. SCUSI, EH? TANTE BELLE COSE -Almidano Artifoni, holding up a baton of rolled music as a signal, -trotted on stout trousers after the Dalkey tram. In vain he trotted, -signalling in vain among the rout of barekneed gillies smuggling -implements of music through Trinity gates. -Miss Dunne hid the Capel street library copy of THE WOMAN IN WHITE -far back in her drawer and rolled a sheet of gaudy notepaper into her -typewriter. -Too much mystery business in it. Is he in love with that one, Marion? -Change it and get another by Mary Cecil Haye. -The disk shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased and ogled -them six. -Miss Dunne clicked on the keyboard - June . -Five tallwhitehatted sandwichmen between Monypeny's corner and -the slab where Wolfe Tone's statue was not, eeled themselves turning -H. E. L. Y.'S and plodded back as they had come. -Then she stared at the large poster of Marie Kendall, charming soubrette, -and, listlessly lolling, scribbled on the jotter sixteens and capital -esses. Mustard hair and dauby cheeks. She's not nicelooking, is she? The -way she's holding up her bit of a skirt. Wonder will that fellow be at the -band tonight. If I could get that dressmaker to make a concertina skirt -like Susy Nagle's. They kick out grand. Shannon and all the boatclub -swells never took his eyes off her. Hope to goodness he won't keep me here -till seven. -The telephone rang rudely by her ear. -Hello. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I'll ring them up after five. Only -those two, sir, for Belfast and Liverpool. All right, sir. Then I can go -after six if you're not back. A quarter after. Yes, sir. Twentyseven and -six. I'll tell him. Yes one, seven, six. -She scribbled three figures on an envelope. -Mr Boylan Hello That gentleman from SPORT was in looking for you. -Mr Lenehan, yes. He said he'll be in the Ormond at four. No, sir. Yes, -sir. I'll ring them up after five. -Two pink faces turned in the flare of the tiny torch. -Who's that? Ned Lambert asked. Is that Crotty? -Ringabella and Crosshaven, a voice replied groping for foothold. -Hello, Jack, is that yourself? Ned Lambert said, raising in salute his -pliant lath among the flickering arches. Come on. Mind your steps there. -The vesta in the clergyman's uplifted hand consumed itself in a long soft -flame and was let fall. At their feet its red speck died and mouldy air -closed round them. -How interesting a refined accent said in the gloom. -Yes, sir, Ned Lambert said heartily. We are standing in the historic -council chamber of saint Mary's abbey where silken Thomas proclaimed -himself a rebel in . This is the most historic spot in all Dublin. -O'Madden Burke is going to write something about it one of these days. The -old bank of Ireland was over the way till the time of the union and the -original jews' temple was here too before they built their synagogue over -in Adelaide road. You were never here before, Jack, were you? -No, Ned. -He rode down through Dame walk, the refined accent said, if my -memory serves me. The mansion of the Kildares was in Thomas court. -That's right, Ned Lambert said. That's quite right, sir. -If you will be so kind then, the clergyman said, the next time to allow -me perhaps ... -Certainly, Ned Lambert said. Bring the camera whenever you like. I'll -get those bags cleared away from the windows. You can take it from here or -from here. -In the still faint light he moved about, tapping with his lath the piled -seedbags and points of vantage on the floor. -From a long face a beard and gaze hung on a chessboard. -I'm deeply obliged, Mr Lambert, the clergyman said. I won't trespass on -your valuable time ... -You're welcome, sir, Ned Lambert said. Drop in whenever you like. Next -week, say. Can you see? -Yes, yes. Good afternoon, Mr Lambert. Very pleased to have met you. -Pleasure is mine, sir, Ned Lambert answered. -He followed his guest to the outlet and then whirled his lath away -among the pillars. With J. J. O'Molloy he came forth slowly into Mary's -abbey where draymen were loading floats with sacks of carob and palmnut -meal, O'Connor, Wexford. -He stood to read the card in his hand. -The reverend Hugh C. Love, Rathcoffey. Present address Saint -Michael's, Sallins. Nice young chap he is. He's writing a book about the -Fitzgeralds he told me. He's well up in history, faith. -The young woman with slow care detached from her light skirt a -clinging twig. -I thought you were at a new gunpowder plot, J. J. O'Molloy said. -Ned Lambert cracked his fingers in the air. -God he cried. I forgot to tell him that one about the earl of Kildare -after he set fire to Cashel cathedral. You know that one? I'M BLOODY SORRY -I DID IT, says he, BUT I DECLARE TO GOD I THOUGHT THE ARCHBISHOP WAS -INSIDE. He mightn't like it, though. What? God, I'll tell him anyhow. -That was the great earl, the Fitzgerald Mor. Hot members they were all of -them, the Geraldines. -The horses he passed started nervously under their slack harness. He -slapped a piebald haunch quivering near him and cried -Woa, sonny -He turned to J. J. O'Molloy and asked -Well, Jack. What is it? What's the trouble? Wait awhile. Hold hard. -With gaping mouth and head far back he stood still and, after an -instant, sneezed loudly. -Chow he said. Blast you -The dust from those sacks, J. J. O'Molloy said politely. -No, Ned Lambert gasped, I caught a ... cold night before ... blast -your soul ... night before last ... and there was a hell of a lot of -draught ... -He held his handkerchief ready for the coming ... -I was ... Glasnevin this morning ... poor little ... what do you call -him ... Chow ... Mother of Moses -Tom Rochford took the top disk from the pile he clasped against his -claret waistcoat. -See? he said. Say it's turn six. In here, see. Turn Now On. -He slid it into the left slot for them. It shot down the groove, wobbled -a while, ceased, ogling them six. -Lawyers of the past, haughty, pleading, beheld pass from the -consolidated taxing office to Nisi Prius court Richie Goulding carrying -the costbag of Goulding, Collis and Ward and heard rustling from the -admiralty division of king's bench to the court of appeal an elderly -female with false teeth smiling incredulously and a black silk skirt of -great amplitude. -See? he said. See now the last one I put in is over here Turns Over. -The impact. Leverage, see? -He showed them the rising column of disks on the right. -Smart idea, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. So a fellow coming in late can -see what turn is on and what turns are over. -See? Tom Rochford said. -He slid in a disk for himself and watched it shoot, wobble, ogle, stop -four. Turn Now On. -I'll see him now in the Ormond, Lenehan said, and sound him. One good -turn deserves another. -Do, Tom Rochford said. Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience. -Goodnight, M'Coy said abruptly. When you two begin -Nosey Flynn stooped towards the lever, snuffling at it. -But how does it work here, Tommy? he asked. -Tooraloo, Lenehan said. See you later. -He followed M'Coy out across the tiny square of Crampton court. -He's a hero, he said simply. -I know, M'Coy said. The drain, you mean. -Drain? Lenehan said. It was down a manhole. -They passed Dan Lowry's musichall where Marie Kendall, charming -soubrette, smiled on them from a poster a dauby smile. -Going down the path of Sycamore street beside the Empire musichall -Lenehan showed M'Coy how the whole thing was. One of those manholes -like a bloody gaspipe and there was the poor devil stuck down in it, half -choked with sewer gas. Down went Tom Rochford anyhow, booky's vest -and all, with the rope round him. And be damned but he got the rope round -the poor devil and the two were hauled up. -The act of a hero, he said. -At the Dolphin they halted to allow the ambulance car to gallop past -them for Jervis street. -This way, he said, walking to the right. I want to pop into Lynam's to -see Sceptre's starting price. What's the time by your gold watch and -chain? -M'Coy peered into Marcus Tertius Moses' sombre office, then at -O'Neill's clock. -After three, he said. Who's riding her? -O. Madden, Lenehan said. And a game filly she is. -While he waited in Temple bar M'Coy dodged a banana peel with -gentle pushes of his toe from the path to the gutter. Fellow might damn -easy get a nasty fall there coming along tight in the dark. -The gates of the drive opened wide to give egress to the viceregal -cavalcade. -Even money, Lenehan said returning. I knocked against Bantam Lyons in -there going to back a bloody horse someone gave him that hasn't an -earthly. Through here. -They went up the steps and under Merchants' arch. A darkbacked -figure scanned books on the hawker's cart. -There he is, Lenehan said. -Wonder what he's buying, M'Coy said, glancing behind. -LEOPOLDO OR THE BLOOM IS ON THE RYE, Lenehan said. -He's dead nuts on sales, M'Coy said. I was with him one day and he -bought a book from an old one in Liffey street for two bob. There were -fine plates in it worth double the money, the stars and the moon and -comets with long tails. Astronomy it was about. -Lenehan laughed. -I'll tell you a damn good one about comets' tails, he said. Come over in -the sun. -They crossed to the metal bridge and went along Wellington quay by -the riverwall. -Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam came out of Mangan's, late -Fehrenbach's, carrying a pound and a half of porksteaks. -There was a long spread out at Glencree reformatory, Lenehan said -eagerly. The annual dinner, you know. Boiled shirt affair. The lord mayor -was there, Val Dillon it was, and sir Charles Cameron and Dan Dawson -spoke and there was music. Bartell d'Arcy sang and Benjamin Dollard ... -I know, M'Coy broke in. My missus sang there once. -Did she? Lenehan said. -A card UNFURNISHED APARTMENTS reappeared on the windowsash of -number Eccles street. -He checked his tale a moment but broke out in a wheezy laugh. -But wait till I tell you, he said. Delahunt of Camden street had the -catering and yours truly was chief bottlewasher. Bloom and the wife were -there. Lashings of stuff we put up port wine and sherry and curacao to -which we did ample justice. Fast and furious it was. After liquids came -solids. Cold joints galore and mince pies ... -I know, M'Coy said. The year the missus was there ... -Lenehan linked his arm warmly. -But wait till I tell you, he said. We had a midnight lunch too after all -the jollification and when we sallied forth it was blue o'clock the -morning after the night before. Coming home it was a gorgeous winter's -night on the Featherbed Mountain. Bloom and Chris Callinan were on one -side of the car and I was with the wife on the other. We started singing -glees and duets LO, THE EARLY BEAM OF MORNING. She was well primed with a -good load of Delahunt's port under her bellyband. Every jolt the bloody -car gave I had her bumping up against me. Hell's delights She has a fine -pair, God bless her. Like that. -He held his caved hands a cubit from him, frowning -I was tucking the rug under her and settling her boa all the time. Know -what I mean? -His hands moulded ample curves of air. He shut his eyes tight in -delight, his body shrinking, and blew a sweet chirp from his lips. -The lad stood to attention anyhow, he said with a sigh. She's a gamey -mare and no mistake. Bloom was pointing out all the stars and the comets -in the heavens to Chris Callinan and the jarvey the great bear and -Hercules and the dragon, and the whole jingbang lot. But, by God, I was -lost, so to speak, in the milky way. He knows them all, faith. At last she -spotted a weeny weeshy one miles away. AND WHAT STAR IS THAT, POLDY? says -she. By God, she had Bloom cornered. THAT ONE, IS IT? says Chris Callinan, -SURE THAT'S ONLY WHAT YOU MIGHT CALL A PINPRICK. By God, he wasn't far -wide of the mark. -Lenehan stopped and leaned on the riverwall, panting with soft -laughter. -I'm weak, he gasped. -M'Coy's white face smiled about it at instants and grew grave. -Lenehan walked on again. He lifted his yachtingcap and scratched his -hindhead rapidly. He glanced sideways in the sunlight at M'Coy. -He's a cultured allroundman, Bloom is, he said seriously. He's not one -of your common or garden ... you know ... There's a touch of the artist -about old Bloom. -Mr Bloom turned over idly pages of THE AWFUL DISCLOSURES OF MARIA -MONK, then of Aristotle's MASTERPIECE. Crooked botched print. Plates -infants cuddled in a ball in bloodred wombs like livers of slaughtered -cows. Lots of them like that at this moment all over the world. All -butting with their skulls to get out of it. Child born every minute -somewhere. Mrs Purefoy. -He laid both books aside and glanced at the third TALES OF THE GHETTO -by Leopold von Sacher Masoch. -That I had, he said, pushing it by. -The shopman let two volumes fall on the counter. -Them are two good ones, he said. -Onions of his breath came across the counter out of his ruined -mouth. He bent to make a bundle of the other books, hugged them against -his unbuttoned waistcoat and bore them off behind the dingy curtain. -On O'Connell bridge many persons observed the grave deportment -and gay apparel of Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing c. -Mr Bloom, alone, looked at the titles. FAIR TYRANTS by James Lovebirch. -Know the kind that is. Had it? Yes. -He opened it. Thought so. -A woman's voice behind the dingy curtain. Listen the man. -No she wouldn't like that much. Got her it once. -He read the other title SWEETS OF SIN. More in her line. Let us see. -He read where his finger opened. -ALL THE DOLLARBILLS HER HUSBAND GAVE HER WERE SPENT IN THE STORES ON -WONDROUS GOWNS AND COSTLIEST FRILLIES. FOR HIM FOR RAOUL -Yes. This. Here. Try. -HER MOUTH GLUED ON HIS IN A LUSCIOUS VOLUPTUOUS KISS WHILE HIS HANDS -FELT FOR THE OPULENT CURVES INSIDE HER DESHABILLE. -Yes. Take this. The end. -YOU ARE LATE, HE SPOKE HOARSELY, EYING HER WITH A SUSPICIOUS GLARE. -THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN THREW OFF HER SABLETRIMMED WRAP, DISPLAYING HER -QUEENLY SHOULDERS AND HEAVING EMBONPOINT. AN IMPERCEPTIBLE SMILE PLAYED -ROUND HER PERFECT LIPS AS SHE TURNED TO HIM CALMLY. -Mr Bloom read again THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. -Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yielded -amply amid rumpled clothes whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils -arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments FOR HIM FOR -RAOUL. Armpits' oniony sweat. Fishgluey slime HER HEAVING EMBONPOINT. -Feel Press Crushed Sulphur dung of lions -Young Young -An elderly female, no more young, left the building of the courts of -chancery, king's bench, exchequer and common pleas, having heard in the -lord chancellor's court the case in lunacy of Potterton, in the admiralty -division the summons, exparte motion, of the owners of the Lady Cairns -versus the owners of the barque Mona, in the court of appeal reservation -of judgment in the case of Harvey versus the Ocean Accident and Guarantee -Corporation. -Phlegmy coughs shook the air of the bookshop, bulging out the dingy -curtains. The shopman's uncombed grey head came out and his unshaven -reddened face, coughing. He raked his throat rudely, puked phlegm on the -floor. He put his boot on what he had spat, wiping his sole along it, and -bent, showing a rawskinned crown, scantily haired. -Mr Bloom beheld it. -Mastering his troubled breath, he said -I'll take this one. -The shopman lifted eyes bleared with old rheum. -SWEETS OF SIN, he said, tapping on it. That's a good one. -The lacquey by the door of Dillon's auctionrooms shook his handbell -twice again and viewed himself in the chalked mirror of the cabinet. -Dilly Dedalus, loitering by the curbstone, heard the beats of the bell, -the cries of the auctioneer within. Four and nine. Those lovely curtains. -Five shillings. Cosy curtains. Selling new at two guineas. Any advance on -five shillings? Going for five shillings. -The lacquey lifted his handbell and shook it -Barang -Bang of the lastlap bell spurred the halfmile wheelmen to their sprint. -J. A. Jackson, W. E. Wylie, A. Munro and H. T. Gahan, their stretched -necks wagging, negotiated the curve by the College library. -Mr Dedalus, tugging a long moustache, came round from Williams's -row. He halted near his daughter. -It's time for you, she said. -Stand up straight for the love of the lord Jesus, Mr Dedalus said. Are -you trying to imitate your uncle John, the cornetplayer, head upon -shoulder? Melancholy God -Dilly shrugged her shoulders. Mr Dedalus placed his hands on them -and held them back. -Stand up straight, girl, he said. You'll get curvature of the spine. -Do you know what you look like? -He let his head sink suddenly down and forward, hunching his -shoulders and dropping his underjaw. -Give it up, father, Dilly said. All the people are looking at you. -Mr Dedalus drew himself upright and tugged again at his moustache. -Did you get any money? Dilly asked. -Where would I get money? Mr Dedalus said. There is noone in Dublin -would lend me fourpence. -You got some, Dilly said, looking in his eyes. -How do you know that? Mr Dedalus asked, his tongue in his cheek. -Mr Kernan, pleased with the order he had booked, walked boldly -along James's street. -I know you did, Dilly answered. Were you in the Scotch house now? -I was not, then, Mr Dedalus said, smiling. Was it the little nuns -taught you to be so saucy? Here. -He handed her a shilling. -See if you can do anything with that, he said. -I suppose you got five, Dilly said. Give me more than that. -Wait awhile, Mr Dedalus said threateningly. You're like the rest of -them, are you? An insolent pack of little bitches since your poor mother -died. But wait awhile. You'll all get a short shrift and a long day from -me. Low blackguardism I'm going to get rid of you. Wouldn't care if I -was stretched out stiff. He's dead. The man upstairs is dead. -He left her and walked on. Dilly followed quickly and pulled his coat. -Well, what is it? he said, stopping. -The lacquey rang his bell behind their backs. -Barang -Curse your bloody blatant soul, Mr Dedalus cried, turning on him. -The lacquey, aware of comment, shook the lolling clapper of his bell -but feebly -Bang -Mr Dedalus stared at him. -Watch him, he said. It's instructive. I wonder will he allow us to talk. -You got more than that, father, Dilly said. -I'm going to show you a little trick, Mr Dedalus said. I'll leave you -all where Jesus left the jews. Look, there's all I have. I got two -shillings from Jack Power and I spent twopence for a shave for the -funeral. -He drew forth a handful of copper coins, nervously. -Can't you look for some money somewhere? Dilly said. -Mr Dedalus thought and nodded. -I will, he said gravely. I looked all along the gutter in O'Connell -street. I'll try this one now. -You're very funny, Dilly said, grinning. -Here, Mr Dedalus said, handing her two pennies. Get a glass of milk for -yourself and a bun or a something. I'll be home shortly. -He put the other coins in his pocket and started to walk on. -The viceregal cavalcade passed, greeted by obsequious policemen, out -of Parkgate. -I'm sure you have another shilling, Dilly said. -The lacquey banged loudly. -Mr Dedalus amid the din walked off, murmuring to himself with a -pursing mincing mouth gently -The little nuns Nice little things O, sure they wouldn't do anything -O, sure they wouldn't really Is it little sister Monica -From the sundial towards James's gate walked Mr Kernan, pleased with the -order he had booked for Pulbrook Robertson, boldly along James's street, -past Shackleton's offices. Got round him all right. How do you do, Mr -Crimmins? First rate, sir. I was afraid you might be up in your other -establishment in Pimlico. How are things going? Just keeping alive. -Lovely weather we're having. Yes, indeed. Good for the country. Those -farmers are always grumbling. I'll just take a thimbleful of your best -gin, Mr Crimmins. A small gin, sir. Yes, sir. Terrible affair that -General Slocum explosion. Terrible, terrible A thousand casualties. And -heartrending scenes. Men trampling down women and children. Most brutal -thing. What do they say was the cause? Spontaneous combustion. Most -scandalous revelation. Not a single lifeboat would float and the firehose -all burst. What I can't understand is how the inspectors ever allowed a -boat like that ... Now, you're talking straight, Mr Crimmins. You know -why? Palm oil. Is that a fact? Without a doubt. Well now, look at that. -And America they say is the land of the free. I thought we were bad here. -I smiled at him. AMERICA, I said quietly, just like that. WHAT IS IT? THE -SWEEPINGS OF EVERY COUNTRY INCLUDING OUR OWN. ISN'T THAT TRUE? That's a -fact. -Graft, my dear sir. Well, of course, where there's money going there's -always someone to pick it up. -Saw him looking at my frockcoat. Dress does it. Nothing like a dressy -appearance. Bowls them over. -Hello, Simon, Father Cowley said. How are things? -Hello, Bob, old man, Mr Dedalus answered, stopping. -Mr Kernan halted and preened himself before the sloping mirror of Peter -Kennedy, hairdresser. Stylish coat, beyond a doubt. Scott of Dawson -street. Well worth the half sovereign I gave Neary for it. Never built -under three guineas. Fits me down to the ground. Some Kildare street club -toff had it probably. John Mulligan, the manager of the Hibernian bank, -gave me a very sharp eye yesterday on Carlisle bridge as if he remembered -me. -Aham Must dress the character for those fellows. Knight of the road. -Gentleman. And now, Mr Crimmins, may we have the honour of your custom -again, sir. The cup that cheers but not inebriates, as the old saying has -it. -North wall and sir John Rogerson's quay, with hulls and anchorchains, -sailing westward, sailed by a skiff, a crumpled throwaway, rocked on the -ferrywash, Elijah is coming. -Mr Kernan glanced in farewell at his image. High colour, of course. -Grizzled moustache. Returned Indian officer. Bravely he bore his stumpy -body forward on spatted feet, squaring his shoulders. Is that Ned -Lambert's brother over the way, Sam? What? Yes. He's as like it as damn -it. No. The windscreen of that motorcar in the sun there. Just a flash -like that. Damn like him. -Aham Hot spirit of juniper juice warmed his vitals and his breath. Good -drop of gin, that was. His frocktails winked in bright sunshine to his -fat strut. -Down there Emmet was hanged, drawn and quartered. Greasy black rope. Dogs -licking the blood off the street when the lord lieutenant's wife drove by -in her noddy. -Bad times those were. Well, well. Over and done with. Great topers too. -Fourbottle men. -Let me see. Is he buried in saint Michan's? Or no, there was a midnight -burial in Glasnevin. Corpse brought in through a secret door in the wall. -Dignam is there now. Went out in a puff. Well, well. Better turn down -here. Make a detour. -Mr Kernan turned and walked down the slope of Watling street by the -corner of Guinness's visitors' waitingroom. Outside the Dublin Distillers -Company's stores an outside car without fare or jarvey stood, the reins -knotted to the wheel. Damn dangerous thing. Some Tipperary bosthoon -endangering the lives of the citizens. Runaway horse. -Denis Breen with his tomes, weary of having waited an hour in John Henry -Menton's office, led his wife over O'Connell bridge, bound for the office -of Messrs Collis and Ward. -Mr Kernan approached Island street. -Times of the troubles. Must ask Ned Lambert to lend me those -reminiscences of sir Jonah Barrington. When you look back on it all now -in a kind of retrospective arrangement. Gaming at Daly's. No cardsharping -then. One of those fellows got his hand nailed to the table by a dagger. -Somewhere here lord Edward Fitzgerald escaped from major Sirr. Stables -behind Moira house. -Damn good gin that was. -Fine dashing young nobleman. Good stock, of course. That ruffian, that -sham squire, with his violet gloves gave him away. Course they were on -the wrong side. They rose in dark and evil days. Fine poem that is -Ingram. They were gentlemen. Ben Dollard does sing that ballad -touchingly. Masterly rendition. -AT THE SIEGE OF ROSS DID MY FATHER FALL. -A cavalcade in easy trot along Pembroke quay passed, outriders leaping, -leaping in their, in their saddles. Frockcoats. Cream sunshades. -Mr Kernan hurried forward, blowing pursily. -His Excellency Too bad Just missed that by a hair. Damn it What a -pity -Stephen Dedalus watched through the webbed window the lapidary's fingers -prove a timedulled chain. Dust webbed the window and the showtrays. Dust -darkened the toiling fingers with their vulture nails. Dust slept on dull -coils of bronze and silver, lozenges of cinnabar, on rubies, leprous and -winedark stones. -Born all in the dark wormy earth, cold specks of fire, evil, lights -shining in the darkness. Where fallen archangels flung the stars of their -brows. Muddy swinesnouts, hands, root and root, gripe and wrest them. -She dances in a foul gloom where gum bums with garlic. A sailorman, -rustbearded, sips from a beaker rum and eyes her. A long and seafed -silent rut. She dances, capers, wagging her sowish haunches and her hips, -on her gross belly flapping a ruby egg. -Old Russell with a smeared shammy rag burnished again his gem, turned it -and held it at the point of his Moses' beard. Grandfather ape gloating on -a stolen hoard. -And you who wrest old images from the burial earth? The brainsick words -of sophists Antisthenes. A lore of drugs. Orient and immortal wheat -standing from everlasting to everlasting. -Two old women fresh from their whiff of the briny trudged through -Irishtown along London bridge road, one with a sanded tired umbrella, one -with a midwife's bag in which eleven cockles rolled. -The whirr of flapping leathern bands and hum of dynamos from the -powerhouse urged Stephen to be on. Beingless beings. Stop Throb always -without you and the throb always within. Your heart you sing of. I -between them. Where? Between two roaring worlds where they swirl, I. -Shatter them, one and both. But stun myself too in the blow. Shatter me -you who can. Bawd and butcher were the words. I say Not yet awhile. A -look around. -Yes, quite true. Very large and wonderful and keeps famous time. You say -right, sir. A Monday morning, 'twas so, indeed. -Stephen went down Bedford row, the handle of the ash clacking against his -shoulderblade. In Clohissey's window a faded print of Heenan boxing -Sayers held his eye. Staring backers with square hats stood round the -roped prizering. The heavyweights in tight loincloths proposed gently -each to other his bulbous fists. And they are throbbing heroes' hearts. -He turned and halted by the slanted bookcart. -Twopence each, the huckster said. Four for sixpence. -Tattered pages. THE IRISH BEEKEEPER. LIFE AND MIRACLES OF THE CURE' OF -ARS. POCKET GUIDE TO KILLARNEY. -I might find here one of my pawned schoolprizes. STEPHANO DEDALO, ALUMNO -OPTIMO, PALMAM FERENTI. -Father Conmee, having read his little hours, walked through the hamlet of -Donnycarney, murmuring vespers. -Binding too good probably. What is this? Eighth and ninth book of Moses. -Secret of all secrets. Seal of King David. Thumbed pages read and read. -Who has passed here before me? How to soften chapped hands. Recipe for -white wine vinegar. How to win a woman's love. For me this. Say the -following talisman three times with hands folded -SE EL YILO NEBRAKADA FEMININUM AMOR ME SOLO SANKTUS AMEN. -Who wrote this? Charms and invocations of the most blessed abbot Peter -Salanka to all true believers divulged. As good as any other abbot's -charms, as mumbling Joachim's. Down, baldynoddle, or we'll wool your -wool. -What are you doing here, Stephen? -Dilly's high shoulders and shabby dress. -Shut the book quick. Don't let see. -What are you doing? Stephen said. -A Stuart face of nonesuch Charles, lank locks falling at its sides. It -glowed as she crouched feeding the fire with broken boots. I told her of -Paris. Late lieabed under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck -bracelet, Dan Kelly's token. NEBRAKADA FEMININUM. -What have you there? Stephen asked. -I bought it from the other cart for a penny, Dilly said, laughing -nervously. Is it any good? -My eyes they say she has. Do others see me so? Quick, far and daring. -Shadow of my mind. -He took the coverless book from her hand. Chardenal's French primer. -What did you buy that for? he asked. To learn French? -She nodded, reddening and closing tight her lips. -Show no surprise. Quite natural. -Here, Stephen said. It's all right. Mind Maggy doesn't pawn it on you. -I suppose all my books are gone. -Some, Dilly said. We had to. -She is drowning. Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite. All against us. She will -drown me with her, eyes and hair. Lank coils of seaweed hair around me, -my heart, my soul. Salt green death. -We. -Agenbite of inwit. Inwit's agenbite. -Misery Misery -Hello, Simon, Father Cowley said. How are things? -Hello, Bob, old man, Mr Dedalus answered, stopping. -They clasped hands loudly outside Reddy and Daughter's. Father Cowley -brushed his moustache often downward with a scooping hand. -What's the best news? Mr Dedalus said. -Why then not much, Father Cowley said. I'm barricaded up, Simon, with -two men prowling around the house trying to effect an entrance. -Jolly, Mr Dedalus said. Who is it? -O, Father Cowley said. A certain gombeen man of our acquaintance. -With a broken back, is it? Mr Dedalus asked. -The same, Simon, Father Cowley answered. Reuben of that ilk. I'm just -waiting for Ben Dollard. He's going to say a word to long John to get him -to take those two men off. All I want is a little time. -He looked with vague hope up and down the quay, a big apple bulging in -his neck. -I know, Mr Dedalus said, nodding. Poor old bockedy Ben He's always -doing a good turn for someone. Hold hard -He put on his glasses and gazed towards the metal bridge an instant. -There he is, by God, he said, arse and pockets. -Ben Dollard's loose blue cutaway and square hat above large slops crossed -the quay in full gait from the metal bridge. He came towards them at an -amble, scratching actively behind his coattails. -As he came near Mr Dedalus greeted -Hold that fellow with the bad trousers. -Hold him now, Ben Dollard said. -Mr Dedalus eyed with cold wandering scorn various points of Ben Dollard's -figure. Then, turning to Father Cowley with a nod, he muttered -sneeringly -That's a pretty garment, isn't it, for a summer's day? -Why, God eternally curse your soul, Ben Dollard growled furiously, I -threw out more clothes in my time than you ever saw. -He stood beside them beaming, on them first and on his roomy clothes from -points of which Mr Dedalus flicked fluff, saying -They were made for a man in his health, Ben, anyhow. -Bad luck to the jewman that made them, Ben Dollard said. Thanks be to -God he's not paid yet. -And how is that BASSO PROFONDO, Benjamin? Father Cowley asked. -Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, murmuring, glassyeyed, -strode past the Kildare street club. -Ben Dollard frowned and, making suddenly a chanter's mouth, gave forth a -deep note. -Aw he said. -That's the style, Mr Dedalus said, nodding to its drone. -What about that? Ben Dollard said. Not too dusty? What? -He turned to both. -That'll do, Father Cowley said, nodding also. -The reverend Hugh C. Love walked from the old chapterhouse of saint -Mary's abbey past James and Charles Kennedy's, rectifiers, attended by -Geraldines tall and personable, towards the Tholsel beyond the ford of -hurdles. -Ben Dollard with a heavy list towards the shopfronts led them forward, -his joyful fingers in the air. -Come along with me to the subsheriff's office, he said. I want to show -you the new beauty Rock has for a bailiff. He's a cross between Lobengula -and Lynchehaun. He's well worth seeing, mind you. Come along. I saw John -Henry Menton casually in the Bodega just now and it will cost me a fall -if I don't ... Wait awhile ... We're on the right lay, Bob, believe you -me. -For a few days tell him, Father Cowley said anxiously. -Ben Dollard halted and stared, his loud orifice open, a dangling button -of his coat wagging brightbacked from its thread as he wiped away the -heavy shraums that clogged his eyes to hear aright. -What few days? he boomed. Hasn't your landlord distrained for rent? -He has, Father Cowley said. -Then our friend's writ is not worth the paper it's printed on, Ben -Dollard said. The landlord has the prior claim. I gave him all the -particulars. Windsor avenue. Love is the name? -That's right, Father Cowley said. The reverend Mr Love. He's a minister -in the country somewhere. But are you sure of that? -You can tell Barabbas from me, Ben Dollard said, that he can put that -writ where Jacko put the nuts. -He led Father Cowley boldly forward, linked to his bulk. -Filberts I believe they were, Mr Dedalus said, as he dropped his -glasses on his coatfront, following them. -The youngster will be all right, Martin Cunningham said, as they passed -out of the Castleyard gate. -The policeman touched his forehead. -God bless you, Martin Cunningham said, cheerily. -He signed to the waiting jarvey who chucked at the reins and set on -towards Lord Edward street. -Bronze by gold, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head, appeared above -the crossblind of the Ormond hotel. -Yes, Martin Cunningham said, fingering his beard. I wrote to Father -Conmee and laid the whole case before him. -You could try our friend, Mr Power suggested backward. -Boyd? Martin Cunningham said shortly. Touch me not. -John Wyse Nolan, lagging behind, reading the list, came after them -quickly down Cork hill. -On the steps of the City hall Councillor Nannetti, descending, hailed -Alderman Cowley and Councillor Abraham Lyon ascending. -The castle car wheeled empty into upper Exchange street. -Look here, Martin, John Wyse Nolan said, overtaking them at the MAIL -office. I see Bloom put his name down for five shillings. -Quite right, Martin Cunningham said, taking the list. And put down the -five shillings too. -Without a second word either, Mr Power said. -Strange but true, Martin Cunningham added. -John Wyse Nolan opened wide eyes. -I'll say there is much kindness in the jew, he quoted, elegantly. -They went down Parliament street. -There's Jimmy Henry, Mr Power said, just heading for Kavanagh's. -Righto, Martin Cunningham said. Here goes. -Outside LA MAISON CLAIRE Blazes Boylan waylaid Jack Mooney's brotherin -law, humpy, tight, making for the liberties. -John Wyse Nolan fell back with Mr Power, while Martin Cunningham took the -elbow of a dapper little man in a shower of hail suit, who walked -uncertainly, with hasty steps past Micky Anderson's watches. -The assistant town clerk's corns are giving him some trouble, John Wyse -Nolan told Mr Power. -They followed round the corner towards James Kavanagh's winerooms. The -empty castle car fronted them at rest in Essex gate. Martin Cunningham, -speaking always, showed often the list at which Jimmy Henry did not -glance. -And long John Fanning is here too, John Wyse Nolan said, as large as -life. -The tall form of long John Fanning filled the doorway where he stood. -Good day, Mr Subsheriff, Martin Cunningham said, as all halted and -greeted. -Long John Fanning made no way for them. He removed his large Henry Clay -decisively and his large fierce eyes scowled intelligently over all their -faces. -Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations? he -said with rich acrid utterance to the assistant town clerk. -Hell open to christians they were having, Jimmy Henry said pettishly, -about their damned Irish language. Where was the marshal, he wanted to -know, to keep order in the council chamber. And old Barlow the macebearer -laid up with asthma, no mace on the table, nothing in order, no quorum -even, and Hutchinson, the lord mayor, in Llandudno and little Lorcan -Sherlock doing LOCUM TENENS for him. Damned Irish language, language of -our forefathers. -Long John Fanning blew a plume of smoke from his lips. -Martin Cunningham spoke by turns, twirling the peak of his beard, to the -assistant town clerk and the subsheriff, while John Wyse Nolan held his -peace. -What Dignam was that? long John Fanning asked. -Jimmy Henry made a grimace and lifted his left foot. -O, my corns he said plaintively. Come upstairs for goodness' sake till -I sit down somewhere. Uff Ooo Mind -Testily he made room for himself beside long John Fanning's flank and -passed in and up the stairs. -Come on up, Martin Cunningham said to the subsheriff. I don't think you -knew him or perhaps you did, though. -With John Wyse Nolan Mr Power followed them in. -Decent little soul he was, Mr Power said to the stalwart back of long -John Fanning ascending towards long John Fanning in the mirror. -Rather lowsized. Dignam of Menton's office that was, Martin Cunningham -said. -Long John Fanning could not remember him. -Clatter of horsehoofs sounded from the air. -What's that? Martin Cunningham said. -All turned where they stood. John Wyse Nolan came down again. From the -cool shadow of the doorway he saw the horses pass Parliament street, -harness and glossy pasterns in sunlight shimmering. Gaily they went past -before his cool unfriendly eyes, not quickly. In saddles of the leaders, -leaping leaders, rode outriders. -What was it? Martin Cunningham asked, as they went on up the staircase. -The lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of Ireland, John Wyse -Nolan answered from the stairfoot. -As they trod across the thick carpet Buck Mulligan whispered behind -his Panama to Haines -Parnell's brother. There in the corner. -They chose a small table near the window, opposite a longfaced man -whose beard and gaze hung intently down on a chessboard. -Is that he? Haines asked, twisting round in his seat. -Yes, Mulligan said. That's John Howard, his brother, our city marshal. -John Howard Parnell translated a white bishop quietly and his grey -claw went up again to his forehead whereat it rested. An instant after, -under its screen, his eyes looked quickly, ghostbright, at his foe and -fell once more upon a working corner. -I'll take a MELANGE, Haines said to the waitress. -Two MELANGES, Buck Mulligan said. And bring us some scones and butter -and some cakes as well. -When she had gone he said, laughing -We call it D.B.C. because they have damn bad cakes. O, but you missed -Dedalus on HAMLET. -Haines opened his newbought book. -I'm sorry, he said. Shakespeare is the happy huntingground of all minds -that have lost their balance. -The onelegged sailor growled at the area of Nelson street -ENGLAND EXPECTS ... -Buck Mulligan's primrose waistcoat shook gaily to his laughter. -You should see him, he said, when his body loses its balance. Wandering -Aengus I call him. -I am sure he has an IDEE FIXE, Haines said, pinching his chin -thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger. Now I am speculating what it would -be likely to be. Such persons always have. -Buck Mulligan bent across the table gravely. -They drove his wits astray, he said, by visions of hell. He will never -capture the Attic note. The note of Swinburne, of all poets, the white -death and the ruddy birth. That is his tragedy. He can never be a poet. -The joy of creation ... -Eternal punishment, Haines said, nodding curtly. I see. I tackled him -this morning on belief. There was something on his mind, I saw. It's -rather interesting because professor Pokorny of Vienna makes an -interesting point out of that. -Buck Mulligan's watchful eyes saw the waitress come. He helped her -to unload her tray. -He can find no trace of hell in ancient Irish myth, Haines said, amid -the cheerful cups. The moral idea seems lacking, the sense of destiny, of -retribution. Rather strange he should have just that fixed idea. Does he -write anything for your movement? -He sank two lumps of sugar deftly longwise through the whipped -cream. Buck Mulligan slit a steaming scone in two and plastered butter -over its smoking pith. He bit off a soft piece hungrily. -Ten years, he said, chewing and laughing. He is going to write something -in ten years. -Seems a long way off, Haines said, thoughtfully lifting his spoon. -Still, I shouldn't wonder if he did after all. -He tasted a spoonful from the creamy cone of his cup. -This is real Irish cream I take it, he said with forbearance. -I don't want to be imposed on. -Elijah, skiff, light crumpled throwaway, sailed eastward by flanks of -ships and trawlers, amid an archipelago of corks, beyond new Wapping -street past Benson's ferry, and by the threemasted schooner ROSEVEAN from -Bridgwater with bricks. -Almidano Artifoni walked past Holles street, past Sewell's yard. -Behind him Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, with -stickumbrelladustcoat dangling, shunned the lamp before Mr Law Smith's -house and, crossing, walked along Merrion square. Distantly behind him a -blind stripling tapped his way by the wall of College park. -Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell walked as far as -Mr Lewis Werner's cheerful windows, then turned and strode back along -Merrion square, his stickumbrelladustcoat dangling. -At the corner of Wilde's house he halted, frowned at Elijah's name -announced on the Metropolitan hall, frowned at the distant pleasance of -duke's lawn. His eyeglass flashed frowning in the sun. With ratsteeth -bared he muttered -COACTUS VOLUI. -He strode on for Clare street, grinding his fierce word. -As he strode past Mr Bloom's dental windows the sway of his -dustcoat brushed rudely from its angle a slender tapping cane and swept -onwards, having buffeted a thewless body. The blind stripling turned his -sickly face after the striding form. -God's curse on you, he said sourly, whoever you are You're blinder nor -I am, you bitch's bastard -Opposite Ruggy O'Donohoe's Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam, -pawing the pound and a half of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, porksteaks he -had been sent for, went along warm Wicklow street dawdling. It was too -blooming dull sitting in the parlour with Mrs Stoer and Mrs Quigley and -Mrs MacDowell and the blind down and they all at their sniffles and -sipping sups of the superior tawny sherry uncle Barney brought from -Tunney's. And they eating crumbs of the cottage fruitcake, jawing the -whole blooming time and sighing. -After Wicklow lane the window of Madame Doyle, courtdress -milliner, stopped him. He stood looking in at the two puckers stripped to -their pelts and putting up their props. From the sidemirrors two mourning -Masters Dignam gaped silently. Myler Keogh, Dublin's pet lamb, will meet -sergeantmajor Bennett, the Portobello bruiser, for a purse of fifty -sovereigns. Gob, that'd be a good pucking match to see. Myler Keogh, -that's the chap sparring out to him with the green sash. Two bar entrance, -soldiers half price. I could easy do a bunk on ma. Master Dignam on his -left turned as he turned. That's me in mourning. When is it? May the -twentysecond. Sure, the blooming thing is all over. He turned to the right -and on his right Master Dignam turned, his cap awry, his collar sticking -up. Buttoning it down, his chin lifted, he saw the image of Marie Kendall, -charming soubrette, beside the two puckers. One of them mots that do be in -the packets of fags Stoer smokes that his old fellow welted hell out of -him for one time he found out. -Master Dignam got his collar down and dawdled on. The best pucker -going for strength was Fitzsimons. One puck in the wind from that fellow -would knock you into the middle of next week, man. But the best pucker -for science was Jem Corbet before Fitzsimons knocked the stuffings out of -him, dodging and all. -In Grafton street Master Dignam saw a red flower in a toff's mouth -and a swell pair of kicks on him and he listening to what the drunk was -telling him and grinning all the time. -No Sandymount tram. -Master Dignam walked along Nassau street, shifted the porksteaks to -his other hand. His collar sprang up again and he tugged it down. The -blooming stud was too small for the buttonhole of the shirt, blooming end -to it. He met schoolboys with satchels. I'm not going tomorrow either, -stay away till Monday. He met other schoolboys. Do they notice I'm in -mourning? Uncle Barney said he'd get it into the paper tonight. Then -they'll all see it in the paper and read my name printed and pa's name. -His face got all grey instead of being red like it was and there was a -fly walking over it up to his eye. The scrunch that was when they were -screwing the screws into the coffin and the bumps when they were bringing -it downstairs. -Pa was inside it and ma crying in the parlour and uncle Barney telling -the men how to get it round the bend. A big coffin it was, and high and -heavylooking. How was that? The last night pa was boosed he was standing -on the landing there bawling out for his boots to go out to Tunney's for -to boose more and he looked butty and short in his shirt. Never see him -again. Death, that is. Pa is dead. My father is dead. He told me to be a -good son to ma. I couldn't hear the other things he said but I saw his -tongue and his teeth trying to say it better. Poor pa. That was Mr Dignam, -my father. I hope he's in purgatory now because he went to confession to -Father Conroy on Saturday night. -William Humble, earl of Dudley, and lady Dudley, accompanied by -lieutenantcolonel Heseltine, drove out after luncheon from the viceregal -lodge. In the following carriage were the honourable Mrs Paget, Miss de -Courcy and the honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C. in attendance. -The cavalcade passed out by the lower gate of Phoenix park saluted -by obsequious policemen and proceeded past Kingsbridge along the -northern quays. The viceroy was most cordially greeted on his way through -the metropolis. At Bloody bridge Mr Thomas Kernan beyond the river -greeted him vainly from afar Between Queen's and Whitworth bridges lord -Dudley's viceregal carriages passed and were unsaluted by Mr Dudley -White, B. L., M. A., who stood on Arran quay outside Mrs M. E. White's, -the pawnbroker's, at the corner of Arran street west stroking his nose -with his forefinger, undecided whether he should arrive at Phibsborough -more quickly by a triple change of tram or by hailing a car or on foot -through Smithfield, Constitution hill and Broadstone terminus. In the -porch of Four Courts Richie Goulding with the costbag of Goulding, -Collis and Ward saw him with surprise. Past Richmond bridge at the -doorstep of the office of Reuben J Dodd, solicitor, agent for the -Patriotic Insurance Company, an elderly female about to enter changed -her plan and retracing her steps by King's windows smiled credulously -on the representative of His Majesty. From its sluice in Wood quay -wall under Tom Devan's office Poddle river hung out in fealty a tongue -of liquid sewage. Above the crossblind of the Ormond hotel, gold by -bronze, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head watched and admired. -On Ormond quay Mr Simon Dedalus, steering his way from the greenhouse -for the subsheriff's office, stood still in midstreet and brought his -hat low. His Excellency graciously returned Mr Dedalus' greeting. From -Cahill's corner the reverend Hugh C. Love, M.A., made obeisance -unperceived, mindful of lords deputies whose hands benignant -had held of yore rich advowsons. On Grattan bridge Lenehan and M'Coy, -taking leave of each other, watched the carriages go by. Passing by Roger -Greene's office and Dollard's big red printinghouse Gerty MacDowell, -carrying the Catesby's cork lino letters for her father who was laid up, -knew by the style it was the lord and lady lieutenant but she couldn't see -what Her Excellency had on because the tram and Spring's big yellow -furniture van had to stop in front of her on account of its being the lord -lieutenant. Beyond Lundy Foot's from the shaded door of Kavanagh's -winerooms John Wyse Nolan smiled with unseen coldness towards the lord -lieutenantgeneral and general governor of Ireland. The Right Honourable -William Humble, earl of Dudley, G. C. V. O., passed Micky Anderson's -all times ticking watches and Henry and James's wax smartsuited -freshcheeked models, the gentleman Henry, DERNIER CRI James. Over against -Dame gate Tom Rochford and Nosey Flynn watched the approach of the -cavalcade. Tom Rochford, seeing the eyes of lady Dudley fixed on him, -took his thumbs quickly out of the pockets of his claret waistcoat and -doffed his cap to her. A charming SOUBRETTE, great Marie Kendall, with -dauby cheeks and lifted skirt smiled daubily from her poster upon William -Humble, earl of Dudley, and upon lieutenantcolonel H. G. Heseltine, and -also upon the honourable Gerald Ward A. D. C. From the window of the -D. B. C. Buck Mulligan gaily, and Haines gravely, gazed down on the -viceregal equipage over the shoulders of eager guests, whose mass of forms -darkened the chessboard whereon John Howard Parnell looked intently. In -Fownes's street Dilly Dedalus, straining her sight upward from -Chardenal's first French primer, saw sunshades spanned and wheelspokes -spinning in the glare. John Henry Menton, filling the doorway of -Commercial Buildings, stared from winebig oyster eyes, holding a fat gold -hunter watch not looked at in his fat left hand not feeling it. Where the -foreleg of King Billy's horse pawed the air Mrs Breen plucked her -hastening husband back from under the hoofs of the outriders. She shouted -in his ear the tidings. Understanding, he shifted his tomes to his left -breast and saluted the second carriage. The honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C., -agreeably surprised, made haste to reply. At Ponsonby's corner a jaded -white flagon H. halted and four tallhatted white flagons halted behind -him, E.L.Y'S, while outriders pranced past and carriages. Opposite -Pigott's music warerooms Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing c, -gaily apparelled, gravely walked, outpassed by a viceroy and unobserved. -By the provost's wall came jauntily Blazes Boylan, stepping in tan shoes -and socks with skyblue clocks to the refrain of MY GIRL'S A YORKSHIRE -GIRL. -Blazes Boylan presented to the leaders' skyblue frontlets and high -action a skyblue tie, a widebrimmed straw hat at a rakish angle and a suit -of indigo serge. His hands in his jacket pockets forgot to salute but he -offered to the three ladies the bold admiration of his eyes and the red -flower between his lips. As they drove along Nassau street His Excellency -drew the attention of his bowing consort to the programme of music which -was being discoursed in College park. Unseen brazen highland laddies -blared and drumthumped after the CORTEGE -BUT THOUGH SHE'S A FACTORY LASS -AND WEARS NO FANCY CLOTHES. -BARAABUM. -YET I'VE A SORT OF A -YORKSHIRE RELISH FOR -MY LITTLE YORKSHIRE ROSE. -BARAABUM. -Thither of the wall the quartermile flat handicappers, M. C. Green, H. -Shrift, T. M. Patey, C. Scaife, J. B. Jeffs, G. N. Morphy, F. Stevenson, -C. Adderly and W. C. Huggard, started in pursuit. Striding past Finn's -hotel Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stared through a -fierce eyeglass across the carriages at the head of Mr M. E. Solomons in -the window of the AustroHungarian viceconsulate. Deep in Leinster street -by Trinity's postern a loyal king's man, Hornblower, touched his tallyho -cap. As the glossy horses pranced by Merrion square Master Patrick -Aloysius Dignam, waiting, saw salutes being given to the gent with the -topper and raised also his new black cap with fingers greased by -porksteak paper. His collar too sprang up. The viceroy, on his way to -inaugurate the Mirus bazaar in aid of funds for Mercer's hospital, -drove with his following towards Lower Mount street. He passed a blind -stripling opposite Broadbent's. In Lower Mount street a pedestrian in a -brown macintosh, eating dry bread, passed swiftly and unscathed across the -viceroy's path. At the Royal Canal bridge, from his hoarding, Mr Eugene -Stratton, his blub lips agrin, bade all comers welcome to Pembroke -township. At Haddington road corner two sanded women halted themselves, -an umbrella and a bag in which eleven cockles rolled to view with wonder -the lord mayor and lady mayoress without his golden chain. On -Northumberland and Lansdowne roads His Excellency acknowledged punctually -salutes from rare male walkers, the salute of two small schoolboys at the -garden gate of the house said to have been admired by the late queen when -visiting the Irish capital with her husband, the prince consort, in -and the salute of Almidano Artifoni's sturdy trousers swallowed by a -closing door. -Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. -Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips. -Horrid And gold flushed more. -A husky fifenote blew. -Blew. Blue bloom is on the. -Goldpinnacled hair. -A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile. -Trilling, trilling Idolores. -Peep Who's in the ... peepofgold? -Tink cried to bronze in pity. -And a call, pure, long and throbbing. Longindying call. -Decoy. Soft word. But look the bright stars fade. Notes chirruping -answer. -O rose Castile. The morn is breaking. -Jingle jingle jaunted jingling. -Coin rang. Clock clacked. -Avowal. SONNEZ. I could. Rebound of garter. Not leave thee. Smack. LA -CLOCHE Thigh smack. Avowal. Warm. Sweetheart, goodbye -Jingle. Bloo. -Boomed crashing chords. When love absorbs. War War The tympanum. -A sail A veil awave upon the waves. -Lost. Throstle fluted. All is lost now. -Horn. Hawhorn. -When first he saw. Alas -Full tup. Full throb. -Warbling. Ah, lure Alluring. -Martha Come -Clapclap. Clipclap. Clappyclap. -Goodgod henev erheard inall. -Deaf bald Pat brought pad knife took up. -A moonlit nightcall far, far. -I feel so sad. P. S. So lonely blooming. -Listen -The spiked and winding cold seahorn. Have you the? Each, and for other, -plash and silent roar. -Pearls when she. Liszt's rhapsodies. Hissss. -You don't? -Did not no, no believe Lidlyd. With a cock with a carra. -Black. Deepsounding. Do, Ben, do. -Wait while you wait. Hee hee. Wait while you hee. -But wait -Low in dark middle earth. Embedded ore. -Naminedamine. Preacher is he -All gone. All fallen. -Tiny, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair. -Amen He gnashed in fury. -Fro. To, fro. A baton cool protruding. -Bronzelydia by Minagold. -By bronze, by gold, in oceangreen of shadow. Bloom. Old Bloom. -One rapped, one tapped, with a carra, with a cock. -Pray for him Pray, good people -His gouty fingers nakkering. -Big Benaben. Big Benben. -Last rose Castile of summer left bloom I feel so sad alone. -Pwee Little wind piped wee. -True men. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Ay, ay. Like you men. Will lift your -tschink with tschunk. -Fff Oo -Where bronze from anear? Where gold from afar? Where hoofs? -Rrrpr. Kraa. Kraandl. -Then not till then. My eppripfftaph. Be pfrwritt. -Done. -Begin -Bronze by gold, miss Douce's head by miss Kennedy's head, over the -crossblind of the Ormond bar heard the viceregal hoofs go by, ringing -steel. -Is that her? asked miss Kennedy. -Miss Douce said yes, sitting with his ex, pearl grey and EAU DE NIL. -Exquisite contrast, miss Kennedy said. -When all agog miss Douce said eagerly -Look at the fellow in the tall silk. -Who? Where? gold asked more eagerly. -In the second carriage, miss Douce's wet lips said, laughing in the sun. -He's looking. Mind till I see. -She darted, bronze, to the backmost corner, flattening her face -against the pane in a halo of hurried breath. -Her wet lips tittered -He's killed looking back. -She laughed -O wept Aren't men frightful idiots? -With sadness. -Miss Kennedy sauntered sadly from bright light, twining a loose hair -behind an ear. Sauntering sadly, gold no more, she twisted twined a hair. -Sadly she twined in sauntering gold hair behind a curving ear. -It's them has the fine times, sadly then she said. -A man. -Bloowho went by by Moulang's pipes bearing in his breast the sweets -of sin, by Wine's antiques, in memory bearing sweet sinful words, by -Carroll's dusky battered plate, for Raoul. -The boots to them, them in the bar, them barmaids came. For them -unheeding him he banged on the counter his tray of chattering china. And -There's your teas, he said. -Miss Kennedy with manners transposed the teatray down to an -upturned lithia crate, safe from eyes, low. -What is it? loud boots unmannerly asked. -Find out, miss Douce retorted, leaving her spyingpoint. -Your BEAU, is it? -A haughty bronze replied -I'll complain to Mrs de Massey on you if I hear any more of your -impertinent insolence. -Imperthnthn thnthnthn, bootssnout sniffed rudely, as he retreated as she -threatened as he had come. -Bloom. -On her flower frowning miss Douce said -Most aggravating that young brat is. If he doesn't conduct himself I'll -wring his ear for him a yard long. -Ladylike in exquisite contrast. -Take no notice, miss Kennedy rejoined. -She poured in a teacup tea, then back in the teapot tea. They cowered -under their reef of counter, waiting on footstools, crates upturned, -waiting for their teas to draw. They pawed their blouses, both of black -satin, two and nine a yard, waiting for their teas to draw, and two and -seven. -Yes, bronze from anear, by gold from afar, heard steel from anear, -hoofs ring from afar, and heard steelhoofs ringhoof ringsteel. -Am I awfully sunburnt? -Miss bronze unbloused her neck. -No, said miss Kennedy. It gets brown after. Did you try the borax with -the cherry laurel water? -Miss Douce halfstood to see her skin askance in the barmirror -gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in their midst -a shell. -And leave it to my hands, she said. -Try it with the glycerine, miss Kennedy advised. -Bidding her neck and hands adieu miss Douce -Those things only bring out a rash, replied, reseated. I asked that old -fogey in Boyd's for something for my skin. -Miss Kennedy, pouring now a fulldrawn tea, grimaced and prayed -O, don't remind me of him for mercy' sake -But wait till I tell you, miss Douce entreated. -Sweet tea miss Kennedy having poured with milk plugged both two -ears with little fingers. -No, don't, she cried. -I won't listen, she cried. -But Bloom? -Miss Douce grunted in snuffy fogey's tone -For your what? says he. -Miss Kennedy unplugged her ears to hear, to speak but said, but -prayed again -Don't let me think of him or I'll expire. The hideous old wretch That -night in the Antient Concert Rooms. -She sipped distastefully her brew, hot tea, a sip, sipped, sweet tea. -Here he was, miss Douce said, cocking her bronze head three quarters, -ruffling her nosewings. Hufa Hufa -Shrill shriek of laughter sprang from miss Kennedy's throat. Miss -Douce huffed and snorted down her nostrils that quivered imperthnthn like -a snout in quest. -O shrieking, miss Kennedy cried. Will you ever forget his goggle eye? -Miss Douce chimed in in deep bronze laughter, shouting -And your other eye -Bloowhose dark eye read Aaron Figatner's name. Why do I always -think Figather? Gathering figs, I think. And Prosper Lore's huguenot name. -By Bassi's blessed virgins Bloom's dark eyes went by. Bluerobed, white -under, come to me. God they believe she is or goddess. Those today. I -could not see. That fellow spoke. A student. After with Dedalus' son. He -might be Mulligan. All comely virgins. That brings those rakes of fellows -in her white. -By went his eyes. The sweets of sin. Sweet are the sweets. -Of sin. -In a giggling peal young goldbronze voices blended, Douce with -Kennedy your other eye. They threw young heads back, bronze gigglegold, -to let freefly their laughter, screaming, your other, signals to each -other, high piercing notes. -Ah, panting, sighing, sighing, ah, fordone, their mirth died down. -Miss Kennedy lipped her cup again, raised, drank a sip and -gigglegiggled. Miss Douce, bending over the teatray, ruffled again her -nose and rolled droll fattened eyes. Again Kennygiggles, stooping, her -fair pinnacles of hair, stooping, her tortoise napecomb showed, spluttered -out of her mouth her tea, choking in tea and laughter, coughing with -choking, crying -O greasy eyes Imagine being married to a man like that she cried. With -his bit of beard -Douce gave full vent to a splendid yell, a full yell of full woman, -delight, joy, indignation. -Married to the greasy nose she yelled. -Shrill, with deep laughter, after, gold after bronze, they urged each -each to peal after peal, ringing in changes, bronzegold, goldbronze, -shrilldeep, to laughter after laughter. And then laughed more. Greasy I -knows. Exhausted, breathless, their shaken heads they laid, braided and -pinnacled by glossycombed, against the counterledge. All flushed O, -panting, sweating O, all breathless. -Married to Bloom, to greaseabloom. -O saints above miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose. I wished -I hadn't laughed so much. I feel all wet. -O, miss Douce miss Kennedy protested. You horrid thing -And flushed yet more you horrid, more goldenly. -By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by Ceppi's virgins, bright -of their oils. Nannetti's father hawked those things about, wheedling at -doors as I. Religion pays. Must see him for that par. Eat first. I want. -Not yet. At four, she said. Time ever passing. Clockhands turning. On. -Where eat? The Clarence, Dolphin. On. For Raoul. Eat. If I net five -guineas with those ads. The violet silk petticoats. Not yet. The sweets -of sin. -Flushed less, still less, goldenly paled. -Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus. Chips, picking chips off one of his -rocky thumbnails. Chips. He strolled. -O, welcome back, miss Douce. -He held her hand. Enjoyed her holidays? -Tiptop. -He hoped she had nice weather in Rostrevor. -Gorgeous, she said. Look at the holy show I am. Lying out on the strand -all day. -Bronze whiteness. -That was exceedingly naughty of you, Mr Dedalus told her and pressed -her hand indulgently. Tempting poor simple males. -Miss Douce of satin douced her arm away. -O go away she said. You're very simple, I don't think. -He was. -Well now I am, he mused. I looked so simple in the cradle they christened -me simple Simon. -You must have been a doaty, miss Douce made answer. And what did the -doctor order today? -Well now, he mused, whatever you say yourself. I think I'll trouble you -for some fresh water and a half glass of whisky. -Jingle. -With the greatest alacrity, miss Douce agreed. -With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and -Cochrane's she turned herself. With grace she tapped a measure of gold -whisky from her crystal keg. Forth from the skirt of his coat Mr Dedalus -brought pouch and pipe. Alacrity she served. He blew through the flue two -husky fifenotes. -By Jove, he mused, I often wanted to see the Mourne mountains. Must be -a great tonic in the air down there. But a long threatening comes at last, -they say. Yes. Yes. -Yes. He fingered shreds of hair, her maidenhair, her mermaid's, into -the bowl. Chips. Shreds. Musing. Mute. -None nought said nothing. Yes. -Gaily miss Douce polished a tumbler, trilling -O, IDOLORES, QUEEN OF THE EASTERN SEAS -Was Mr Lidwell in today? -In came Lenehan. Round him peered Lenehan. Mr Bloom reached Essex bridge. -Yes, Mr Bloom crossed bridge of Yessex. To Martha I must write. Buy paper. -Daly's. Girl there civil. Bloom. Old Bloom. Blue bloom is on the rye. -He was in at lunchtime, miss Douce said. -Lenehan came forward. -Was Mr Boylan looking for me? -He asked. She answered -Miss Kennedy, was Mr Boylan in while I was upstairs? -She asked. Miss voice of Kennedy answered, a second teacup poised, -her gaze upon a page -No. He was not. -Miss gaze of Kennedy, heard, not seen, read on. Lenehan round the -sandwichbell wound his round body round. -Peep Who's in the corner? -No glance of Kennedy rewarding him he yet made overtures. To mind -her stops. To read only the black ones round o and crooked ess. -Jingle jaunty jingle. -Girlgold she read and did not glance. Take no notice. She took no -notice while he read by rote a solfa fable for her, plappering flatly -Ah fox met ah stork. Said thee fox too thee stork Will you put your -bill down inn my troath and pull upp ah bone? -He droned in vain. Miss Douce turned to her tea aside. -He sighed aside -Ah me O my -He greeted Mr Dedalus and got a nod. -Greetings from the famous son of a famous father. -Who may he be? Mr Dedalus asked. -Lenehan opened most genial arms. Who? -Who may he be? he asked. Can you ask? Stephen, the youthful bard. -Dry. -Mr Dedalus, famous father, laid by his dry filled pipe. -I see, he said. I didn't recognise him for the moment. I hear he is -keeping very select company. Have you seen him lately? -He had. -I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Lenehan. In -Mooney's EN VILLE and in Mooney's SUR MER. He had received the rhino for -the labour of his muse. -He smiled at bronze's teabathed lips, at listening lips and eyes -The ELITE of Erin hung upon his lips. The ponderous pundit, Hugh -MacHugh, Dublin's most brilliant scribe and editor and that minstrel boy -of the wild wet west who is known by the euphonious appellation of the -O'Madden Burke. -After an interval Mr Dedalus raised his grog and -That must have been highly diverting, said he. I see. -He see. He drank. With faraway mourning mountain eye. Set down -his glass. -He looked towards the saloon door. -I see you have moved the piano. -The tuner was in today, miss Douce replied, tuning it for the smoking -concert and I never heard such an exquisite player. -Is that a fact? -Didn't he, miss Kennedy? The real classical, you know. And blind too, -poor fellow. Not twenty I'm sure he was. -Is that a fact? Mr Dedalus said. -He drank and strayed away. -So sad to look at his face, miss Douce condoled. -God's curse on bitch's bastard. -Tink to her pity cried a diner's bell. To the door of the bar and -diningroom came bald Pat, came bothered Pat, came Pat, waiter of -Ormond. Lager for diner. Lager without alacrity she served. -With patience Lenehan waited for Boylan with impatience, for -jinglejaunty blazes boy. -Upholding the lid he who? gazed in the coffin coffin? at the -oblique triple piano wires. He pressed the same who pressed -indulgently her hand, soft pedalling, a triple of keys to see the -thicknesses of felt advancing, to hear the muffled hammerfall in action. -Two sheets cream vellum paper one reserve two envelopes when I was -in Wisdom Hely's wise Bloom in Daly's Henry Flower bought. Are you not -happy in your home? Flower to console me and a pin cuts lo. Means -something, language of flow. Was it a daisy? Innocence that is. -Respectable girl meet after mass. Thanks awfully muchly. Wise Bloom eyed -on the door a poster, a swaying mermaid smoking mid nice waves. Smoke -mermaids, coolest whiff of all. Hair streaming lovelorn. For some man. -For Raoul. He eyed and saw afar on Essex bridge a gay hat riding on a -jaunting car. It is. Again. Third time. Coincidence. -Jingling on supple rubbers it jaunted from the bridge to Ormond -quay. Follow. Risk it. Go quick. At four. Near now. Out. -Twopence, sir, the shopgirl dared to say. -Aha ... I was forgetting ... Excuse ... -And four. -At four she. Winsomely she on Bloohimwhom smiled. Bloo smi qui -go. Ternoon. Think you're the only pebble on the beach? Does that to all. -For men. -In drowsy silence gold bent on her page. -From the saloon a call came, long in dying. That was a tuningfork the -tuner had that he forgot that he now struck. A call again. That he now -poised that it now throbbed. You hear? It throbbed, pure, purer, softly -and softlier, its buzzing prongs. Longer in dying call. -Pat paid for diner's popcorked bottle and over tumbler, tray and -popcorked bottle ere he went he whispered, bald and bothered, with Miss -Douce. -THE BRIGHT STARS FADE ... -A voiceless song sang from within, singing -... THE MORN IS BREAKING. -A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive -hands. Brightly the keys, all twinkling, linked, all harpsichording, -called to a voice to sing the strain of dewy morn, of youth, of love's -leavetaking, life's, love's morn. -THE DEWDROPS PEARL ... -Lenehan's lips over the counter lisped a low whistle of decoy. -But look this way, he said, rose of Castile. -Jingle jaunted by the curb and stopped. -She rose and closed her reading, rose of Castile fretted, forlorn, -dreamily rose. -Did she fall or was she pushed? he asked her. -She answered, slighting -Ask no questions and you'll hear no lies. -Like lady, ladylike. -Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the barfloor where he -strode. Yes, gold from anear by bronze from afar. Lenehan heard and knew -and hailed him -See the conquering hero comes. -Between the car and window, warily walking, went Bloom, -unconquered hero. See me he might. The seat he sat on warm. Black wary -hecat walked towards Richie Goulding's legal bag, lifted aloft, saluting. -AND I FROM THEE ... -I heard you were round, said Blazes Boylan. -He touched to fair miss Kennedy a rim of his slanted straw. She -smiled on him. But sister bronze outsmiled her, preening for him her -richer hair, a bosom and a rose. -Smart Boylan bespoke potions. -What's your cry? Glass of bitter? Glass of bitter, please, and a sloegin -for me. Wire in yet? -Not yet. At four she. Who said four? -Cowley's red lugs and bulging apple in the door of the sheriff's office. -Avoid. Goulding a chance. What is he doing in the Ormond? Car waiting. -Wait. -Hello. Where off to? Something to eat? I too was just. In here. What, -Ormond? Best value in Dublin. Is that so? Diningroom. Sit tight there. -See, not be seen. I think I'll join you. Come on. Richie led on. Bloom -followed bag. Dinner fit for a prince. -Miss Douce reached high to take a flagon, stretching her satin arm, -her bust, that all but burst, so high. -O O jerked Lenehan, gasping at each stretch. O -But easily she seized her prey and led it low in triumph. -Why don't you grow? asked Blazes Boylan. -Shebronze, dealing from her oblique jar thick syrupy liquor for his -lips, looked as it flowed flower in his coat who gave him?, and -syrupped with her voice -Fine goods in small parcels. -That is to say she. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe. -Here's fortune, Blazes said. -He pitched a broad coin down. Coin rang. -Hold on, said Lenehan, till I ... -Fortune, he wished, lifting his bubbled ale. -Sceptre will win in a canter, he said. -I plunged a bit, said Boylan winking and drinking. Not on my own, you -know. Fancy of a friend of mine. -Lenehan still drank and grinned at his tilted ale and at miss Douce's -lips that all but hummed, not shut, the oceansong her lips had trilled. -Idolores. The eastern seas. -Clock whirred. Miss Kennedy passed their way flower, wonder who -gave, bearing away teatray. Clock clacked. -Miss Douce took Boylan's coin, struck boldly the cashregister. It -clanged. Clock clacked. Fair one of Egypt teased and sorted in the till -and hummed and handed coins in change. Look to the west. A clack. For me. -What time is that? asked Blazes Boylan. Four? -O'clock. -Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, -tugged Blazes Boylan's elbowsleeve. -Let's hear the time, he said. -The bag of Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered -tables. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat attending, a table -near the door. Be near. At four. Has he forgotten? Perhaps a trick. Not -come whet appetite. I couldn't do. Wait, wait. Pat, waiter, waited. -Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes. -Go on, pressed Lenehan. There's noone. He never heard. -... TO FLORA'S LIPS DID HIE. -High, a high note pealed in the treble clear. -Bronzedouce communing with her rose that sank and rose sought -Blazes Boylan's flower and eyes. -Please, please. -He pleaded over returning phrases of avowal. -I COULD NOT LEAVE THEE ... -Afterwits, miss Douce promised coyly. -No, now, urged Lenehan. SONNEZLACLOCHE O do There's noone. -She looked. Quick. Miss Kenn out of earshot. Sudden bent. Two -kindling faces watched her bend. -Quavering the chords strayed from the air, found it again, lost chord, -and lost and found it, faltering. -Go on Do SONNEZ -Bending, she nipped a peak of skirt above her knee. Delayed. Taunted -them still, bending, suspending, with wilful eyes. -SONNEZ -Smack. She set free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter -smackwarm against her smackable a woman's warmhosed thigh. -LA CLOCHE cried gleeful Lenehan. Trained by owner. No sawdust there. -She smilesmirked supercilious wept aren't men?, but, lightward -gliding, mild she smiled on Boylan. -You're the essence of vulgarity, she in gliding said. -Boylan, eyed, eyed. Tossed to fat lips his chalice, drank off his chalice -tiny, sucking the last fat violet syrupy drops. His spellbound eyes went -after, after her gliding head as it went down the bar by mirrors, gilded -arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a spiky shell, -where it concerted, mirrored, bronze with sunnier bronze. -Yes, bronze from anearby. -... SWEETHEART, GOODBYE -I'm off, said Boylan with impatience. -He slid his chalice brisk away, grasped his change. -Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, drinking quickly. I wanted to tell you. -Tom Rochford ... -Come on to blazes, said Blazes Boylan, going. -Lenehan gulped to go. -Got the horn or what? he said. Wait. I'm coming. -He followed the hasty creaking shoes but stood by nimbly by the -threshold, saluting forms, a bulky with a slender. -How do you do, Mr Dollard? -Eh? How do? How do? Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an -instant from Father Cowley's woe. He won't give you any trouble, Bob. Alf -Bergan will speak to the long fellow. We'll put a barleystraw in that -Judas Iscariot's ear this time. -Sighing Mr Dedalus came through the saloon, a finger soothing an -eyelid. -Hoho, we will, Ben Dollard yodled jollily. Come on, Simon. Give us a -ditty. We heard the piano. -Bald Pat, bothered waiter, waited for drink orders. Power for Richie. -And Bloom? Let me see. Not make him walk twice. His corns. Four now. -How warm this black is. Course nerves a bit. Refracts is it? heat. Let -me see. Cider. Yes, bottle of cider. -What's that? Mr Dedalus said. I was only vamping, man. -Come on, come on, Ben Dollard called. Begone dull care. Come, Bob. -He ambled Dollard, bulky slops, before them hold that fellow with -the hold him now into the saloon. He plumped him Dollard on the stool. -His gouty paws plumped chords. Plumped, stopped abrupt. -Bald Pat in the doorway met tealess gold returning. Bothered, he -wanted Power and cider. Bronze by the window, watched, bronze from -afar. -Jingle a tinkle jaunted. -Bloom heard a jing, a little sound. He's off. Light sob of breath Bloom -sighed on the silent bluehued flowers. Jingling. He's gone. Jingle. Hear. -Love and War, Ben, Mr Dedalus said. God be with old times. -Miss Douce's brave eyes, unregarded, turned from the crossblind, -smitten by sunlight. Gone. Pensive who knows?, smitten the smiting -light, she lowered the dropblind with a sliding cord. She drew down -pensive why did he go so quick when I? about her bronze, over the bar -where bald stood by sister gold, inexquisite contrast, contrast -inexquisite nonexquisite, slow cool dim seagreen sliding depth of shadow, -EAU DE NIL. -Poor old Goodwin was the pianist that night, Father Cowley reminded -them. There was a slight difference of opinion between himself and the -Collard grand. -There was. -A symposium all his own, Mr Dedalus said. The devil wouldn't stop him. -He was a crotchety old fellow in the primary stage of drink. -God, do you remember? Ben bulky Dollard said, turning from the -punished keyboard. And by Japers I had no wedding garment. -They laughed all three. He had no wed. All trio laughed. No wedding -garment. -Our friend Bloom turned in handy that night, Mr Dedalus said. Where's -my pipe, by the way? -He wandered back to the bar to the lost chord pipe. Bald Pat carried -two diners' drinks, Richie and Poldy. And Father Cowley laughed again. -I saved the situation, Ben, I think. -You did, averred Ben Dollard. I remember those tight trousers too. That -was a brilliant idea, Bob. -Father Cowley blushed to his brilliant purply lobes. He saved the -situa. Tight trou. Brilliant ide. -I knew he was on the rocks, he said. The wife was playing the piano in -the coffee palace on Saturdays for a very trifling consideration and who -was it gave me the wheeze she was doing the other business? Do you -remember? We had to search all Holles street to find them till the chap in -Keogh's gave us the number. Remember? Ben remembered, his broad visage -wondering. -By God, she had some luxurious operacloaks and things there. -Mr Dedalus wandered back, pipe in hand. -Merrion square style. Balldresses, by God, and court dresses. He -wouldn't take any money either. What? Any God's quantity of cocked hats -and boleros and trunkhose. What? -Ay, ay, Mr Dedalus nodded. Mrs Marion Bloom has left off clothes of all -descriptions. -Jingle jaunted down the quays. Blazes sprawled on bounding tyres. -Liver and bacon. Steak and kidney pie. Right, sir. Right, Pat. -Mrs Marion. Met him pike hoses. Smell of burn. Of Paul de Kock. Nice -name he. -What's this her name was? A buxom lassy. Marion ... -Tweedy. -Yes. Is she alive? -And kicking. -She was a daughter of ... -Daughter of the regiment. -Yes, begad. I remember the old drummajor. -Mr Dedalus struck, whizzed, lit, puffed savoury puff after -Irish? I don't know, faith. Is she, Simon? -Puff after stiff, a puff, strong, savoury, crackling. -Buccinator muscle is ... What? ... Bit rusty ... O, she is ... My -Irish Molly, O. -He puffed a pungent plumy blast. -From the rock of Gibraltar... all the way. -They pined in depth of ocean shadow, gold by the beerpull, bronze by -maraschino, thoughtful all two. Mina Kennedy, Lismore terrace, -Drumcondra with Idolores, a queen, Dolores, silent. -Pat served, uncovered dishes. Leopold cut liverslices. As said before he -ate with relish the inner organs, nutty gizzards, fried cods' roes while -Richie Goulding, Collis, Ward ate steak and kidney, steak then kidney, -bite by bite of pie he ate Bloom ate they ate. -Bloom with Goulding, married in silence, ate. Dinners fit for princes. -By Bachelor's walk jogjaunty jingled Blazes Boylan, bachelor, in sun -in heat, mare's glossy rump atrot, with flick of whip, on bounding tyres -sprawled, warmseated, Boylan impatience, ardentbold. Horn. Have you -the? Horn. Have you the? Haw haw horn. -Over their voices Dollard bassooned attack, booming over bombarding -chords -WHEN LOVE ABSORBS MY ARDENT SOUL ... -Roll of Bensoulbenjamin rolled to the quivery loveshivery roofpanes. -War War cried Father Cowley. You're the warrior. -So I am, Ben Warrior laughed. I was thinking of your landlord. Love or -money. -He stopped. He wagged huge beard, huge face over his blunder huge. -Sure, you'd burst the tympanum of her ear, man, Mr Dedalus said -through smoke aroma, with an organ like yours. -In bearded abundant laughter Dollard shook upon the keyboard. He -would. -Not to mention another membrane, Father Cowley added. Half time, -Ben. AMOROSO MA NON TROPPO. Let me there. -Miss Kennedy served two gentlemen with tankards of cool stout. She -passed a remark. It was indeed, first gentleman said, beautiful weather. -They drank cool stout. Did she know where the lord lieutenant was going? -And heard steelhoofs ringhoof ring. No, she couldn't say. But it would be -in the paper. O, she need not trouble. No trouble. She waved about her -outspread INDEPENDENT, searching, the lord lieutenant, her pinnacles of -hair slowmoving, lord lieuten. Too much trouble, first gentleman said. O, -not in the least. Way he looked that. Lord lieutenant. Gold by bronze -heard iron steel. -............ MY ARDENT SOUL -I CARE NOT FOROR THE MORROW. -In liver gravy Bloom mashed mashed potatoes. Love and War -someone is. Ben Dollard's famous. Night he ran round to us to borrow a -dress suit for that concert. Trousers tight as a drum on him. Musical -porkers. Molly did laugh when he went out. Threw herself back across the -bed, screaming, kicking. With all his belongings on show. O saints above, -I'm drenched O, the women in the front row O, I never laughed so many -Well, of course that's what gives him the base barreltone. For instance -eunuchs. Wonder who's playing. Nice touch. Must be Cowley. Musical. -Knows whatever note you play. Bad breath he has, poor chap. Stopped. -Miss Douce, engaging, Lydia Douce, bowed to suave solicitor, George -Lidwell, gentleman, entering. Good afternoon. She gave her moist -a lady's hand to his firm clasp. Afternoon. Yes, she was back. To the -old dingdong again. -Your friends are inside, Mr Lidwell. -George Lidwell, suave, solicited, held a lydiahand. -Bloom ate liv as said before. Clean here at least. That chap in the -Burton, gummy with gristle. Noone here Goulding and I. Clean tables, -flowers, mitres of napkins. Pat to and fro. Bald Pat. Nothing to do. Best -value in Dub. -Piano again. Cowley it is. Way he sits in to it, like one together, -mutual understanding. Tiresome shapers scraping fiddles, eye on the -bowend, sawing the cello, remind you of toothache. Her high long snore. -Night we were in the box. Trombone under blowing like a grampus, -between the acts, other brass chap unscrewing, emptying spittle. -Conductor's legs too, bagstrousers, jiggedy jiggedy. Do right to hide -them. -Jiggedy jingle jaunty jaunty. -Only the harp. Lovely. Gold glowering light. Girl touched it. Poop of -a lovely. Gravy's rather good fit for a. Golden ship. Erin. The harp that -once or twice. Cool hands. Ben Howth, the rhododendrons. We are their -harps. I. He. Old. Young. -Ah, I couldn't, man, Mr Dedalus said, shy, listless. -Strongly. -Go on, blast you Ben Dollard growled. Get it out in bits. -M'APPARI, Simon, Father Cowley said. -Down stage he strode some paces, grave, tall in affliction, his long -arms outheld. Hoarsely the apple of his throat hoarsed softly. Softly he -sang to a dusty seascape there A LAST FAREWELL. A headland, a ship, a -sail upon the billows. Farewell. A lovely girl, her veil awave upon the -wind upon the headland, wind around her. -Cowley sang -M'APPARI TUTT'AMOR -IL MIO SGUARDO L'INCONTR ... -She waved, unhearing Cowley, her veil, to one departing, dear one, to -wind, love, speeding sail, return. -Go on, Simon. -Ah, sure, my dancing days are done, Ben ... Well ... -Mr Dedalus laid his pipe to rest beside the tuningfork and, sitting, -touched the obedient keys. -No, Simon, Father Cowley turned. Play it in the original. One flat. -The keys, obedient, rose higher, told, faltered, confessed, confused. -Up stage strode Father Cowley. -Here, Simon, I'll accompany you, he said. Get up. -By Graham Lemon's pineapple rock, by Elvery's elephant jingly -jogged. Steak, kidney, liver, mashed, at meat fit for princes sat princes -Bloom and Goulding. Princes at meat they raised and drank, Power and -cider. -Most beautiful tenor air ever written, Richie said SONNAMBULA. He -heard Joe Maas sing that one night. Ah, what M'Guckin Yes. In his way. -Choirboy style. Maas was the boy. Massboy. A lyrical tenor if you like. -Never forget it. Never. -Tenderly Bloom over liverless bacon saw the tightened features strain. -Backache he. Bright's bright eye. Next item on the programme. Paying the -piper. Pills, pounded bread, worth a guinea a box. Stave it off awhile. -Sings too DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN. Appropriate. Kidney pie. Sweets to -the. Not making much hand of it. Best value in. Characteristic of him. -Power. Particular about his drink. Flaw in the glass, fresh Vartry water. -Fecking matches from counters to save. Then squander a sovereign in dribs -and drabs. And when he's wanted not a farthing. Screwed refusing to pay -his fare. Curious types. -Never would Richie forget that night. As long as he lived never. In -the gods of the old Royal with little Peake. And when the first note. -Speech paused on Richie's lips. -Coming out with a whopper now. Rhapsodies about damn all. -Believes his own lies. Does really. Wonderful liar. But want a good -memory. -Which air is that? asked Leopold Bloom. -ALL IS LOST NOW. -Richie cocked his lips apout. A low incipient note sweet banshee murmured -all. A thrush. A throstle. His breath, birdsweet, good teeth he's -proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. Is lost. Rich sound. Two notes in one -there. Blackbird I heard in the hawthorn valley. Taking my motives he -twined and turned them. All most too new call is lost in all. Echo. How -sweet the answer. How is that done? All lost now. Mournful he whistled. -Fall, surrender, lost. -Bloom bent leopold ear, turning a fringe of doyley down under the -vase. Order. Yes, I remember. Lovely air. In sleep she went to him. -Innocence in the moon. Brave. Don't know their danger. Still hold her -back. Call name. Touch water. Jingle jaunty. Too late. She longed to go. -That's why. Woman. As easy stop the sea. Yes all is lost. -A beautiful air, said Bloom lost Leopold. I know it well. -Never in all his life had Richie Goulding. -He knows it well too. Or he feels. Still harping on his daughter. Wise -child that knows her father, Dedalus said. Me? -Bloom askance over liverless saw. Face of the all is lost. Rollicking -Richie once. Jokes old stale now. Wagging his ear. Napkinring in his eye. -Now begging letters he sends his son with. Crosseyed Walter sir I did sir. -Wouldn't trouble only I was expecting some money. Apologise. -Piano again. Sounds better than last time I heard. Tuned probably. -Stopped again. -Dollard and Cowley still urged the lingering singer out with it. -With it, Simon. -It, Simon. -Ladies and gentlemen, I am most deeply obliged by your kind -solicitations. -It, Simon. -I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall endeavour -to sing to you of a heart bowed down. -By the sandwichbell in screening shadow Lydia, her bronze and rose, -a lady's grace, gave and withheld as in cool glaucous EAU DE NIL Mina -to tankards two her pinnacles of gold. -The harping chords of prelude closed. A chord, longdrawn, expectant, -drew a voice away. -WHEN FIRST I SAW THAT FORM ENDEARING ... -Richie turned. -Si Dedalus' voice, he said. -Braintipped, cheek touched with flame, they listened feeling that flow -endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Bloom signed to -Pat, bald Pat is a waiter hard of hearing, to set ajar the door of the -bar. The door of the bar. So. That will do. Pat, waiter, waited, waiting -to hear, for he was hard of hear by the door. -SORROW FROM ME SEEMED TO DEPART. -Through the hush of air a voice sang to them, low, not rain, not leaves -in murmur, like no voice of strings or reeds or whatdoyoucallthem -dulcimers touching their still ears with words, still hearts of their each -his remembered lives. Good, good to hear sorrow from them each seemed to -from both depart when first they heard. When first they saw, lost Richie -Poldy, mercy of beauty, heard from a person wouldn't expect it in the -least, her first merciful lovesoft oftloved word. -Love that is singing love's old sweet song. Bloom unwound slowly -the elastic band of his packet. Love's old sweet SONNEZ LA gold. Bloom -wound a skein round four forkfingers, stretched it, relaxed, and wound it -round his troubled double, fourfold, in octave, gyved them fast. -FULL OF HOPE AND ALL DELIGHTED ... -Tenors get women by the score. Increase their flow. Throw flower at -his feet. When will we meet? My head it simply. Jingle all delighted. He -can't sing for tall hats. Your head it simply swurls. Perfumed for him. -What perfume does your wife? I want to know. Jing. Stop. Knock. Last look -at mirror always before she answers the door. The hall. There? How do you? -I do well. There? What? Or? Phial of cachous, kissing comfits, in her -satchel. Yes? Hands felt for the opulent. -Alas the voice rose, sighing, changed loud, full, shining, proud. -BUT ALAS, 'TWAS IDLE DREAMING ... -Glorious tone he has still. Cork air softer also their brogue. Silly man -Could have made oceans of money. Singing wrong words. Wore out his -wife now sings. But hard to tell. Only the two themselves. If he doesn't -break down. Keep a trot for the avenue. His hands and feet sing too. -Drink. Nerves overstrung. Must be abstemious to sing. Jenny Lind soup -stock, sage, raw eggs, half pint of cream. For creamy dreamy. -Tenderness it welled slow, swelling, full it throbbed. That's the chat. -Ha, give Take Throb, a throb, a pulsing proud erect. -Words? Music? No it's what's behind. -Bloom looped, unlooped, noded, disnoded. -Bloom. Flood of warm jamjam lickitup secretness flowed to flow in -music out, in desire, dark to lick flow invading. Tipping her tepping her -tapping her topping her. Tup. Pores to dilate dilating. Tup. The joy the -feel the warm the. Tup. To pour o'er sluices pouring gushes. Flood, gush, -flow, joygush, tupthrob. Now Language of love. -... RAY OF HOPE IS ... -Beaming. Lydia for Lidwell squeak scarcely hear so ladylike the muse -unsqueaked a ray of hopk. -MARTHA it is. Coincidence. Just going to write. Lionel's song. Lovely -name you have. Can't write. Accept my little pres. Play on her -heartstrings pursestrings too. She's a. I called you naughty boy. Still -the name Martha. How strange Today. -The voice of Lionel returned, weaker but unwearied. It sang again to -Richie Poldy Lydia Lidwell also sang to Pat open mouth ear waiting to -wait. How first he saw that form endearing, how sorrow seemed to part, -how look, form, word charmed him Gould Lidwell, won Pat Bloom's heart. -Wish I could see his face, though. Explain better. Why the barber in -Drago's always looked my face when I spoke his face in the glass. Still -hear it better here than in the bar though farther. -EACH GRACEFUL LOOK ... -First night when first I saw her at Mat Dillon's in Terenure. Yellow, -black lace she wore. Musical chairs. We two the last. Fate. After her. -Fate. -Round and round slow. Quick round. We two. All looked. Halt. Down she -sat. All ousted looked. Lips laughing. Yellow knees. -CHARMED MY EYE ... -Singing. WAITING she sang. I turned her music. Full voice of perfume -of what perfume does your lilactrees. Bosom I saw, both full, throat -warbling. First I saw. She thanked me. Why did she me? Fate. Spanishy -eyes. Under a peartree alone patio this hour in old Madrid one side in -shadow Dolores shedolores. At me. Luring. Ah, alluring. -MARTHA AH, MARTHA -Quitting all languor Lionel cried in grief, in cry of passion dominant -to love to return with deepening yet with rising chords of harmony. In cry -of lionel loneliness that she should know, must martha feel. For only her -he waited. Where? Here there try there here all try where. Somewhere. -COOME, THOU LOST ONE -COOME, THOU DEAR ONE -Alone. One love. One hope. One comfort me. Martha, chestnote, return -COME -It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb -it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long -long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, -crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the etherial bosom, -high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about -the all, the endlessnessnessness ... -TO ME -Siopold -Consumed. -Come. Well sung. All clapped. She ought to. Come. To me, to him, to -her, you too, me, us. -Bravo Clapclap. Good man, Simon. Clappyclapclap. Encore -Clapclipclap clap. Sound as a bell. Bravo, Simon Clapclopclap. Encore, -enclap, said, cried, clapped all, Ben Dollard, Lydia Douce, George -Lidwell, Pat, Mina Kennedy, two gentlemen with two tankards, Cowley, -first gent with tank and bronze miss Douce and gold MJiss Mina. -Blazes Boylan's smart tan shoes creaked on the barfloor, said before. -Jingle by monuments of sir John Gray, Horatio onehandled Nelson, -reverend father Theobald Mathew, jaunted, as said before just now. Atrot, -in heat, heatseated. CLOCHE. SONNEZ LA. CLOCHE. SONNEZ LA. Slower the mare -went up the hill by the Rotunda, Rutland square. Too slow for Boylan, -blazes Boylan, impatience Boylan, joggled the mare. -An afterclang of Cowley's chords closed, died on the air made richer. -And Richie Goulding drank his Power and Leopold Bloom his cider -drank, Lidwell his Guinness, second gentleman said they would partake of -two more tankards if she did not mind. Miss Kennedy smirked, disserving, -coral lips, at first, at second. She did not mind. -Seven days in jail, Ben Dollard said, on bread and water. Then you'd -sing, Simon, like a garden thrush. -Lionel Simon, singer, laughed. Father Bob Cowley played. Mina -Kennedy served. Second gentleman paid. Tom Kernan strutted in. Lydia, -admired, admired. But Bloom sang dumb. -Admiring. -Richie, admiring, descanted on that man's glorious voice. He -remembered one night long ago. Never forget that night. Si sang 'TWAS -RANK AND FAME in Ned Lambert's 'twas. Good God he never heard in all his -life a note like that he never did THEN FALSE ONE WE HAD BETTER PART so -clear so God he never heard SINCE LOVE LIVES NOT a clinking voice lives -not ask Lambert he can tell you too. -Goulding, a flush struggling in his pale, told Mr Bloom, face of the -night, Si in Ned Lambert's, Dedalus house, sang 'TWAS RANK AND FAME. -He, Mr Bloom, listened while he, Richie Goulding, told him, Mr -Bloom, of the night he, Richie, heard him, Si Dedalus, sing 'TWAS RANK AND -FAME in his, Ned Lambert's, house. -Brothersinlaw relations. We never speak as we pass by. Rift in the -lute I think. Treats him with scorn. See. He admires him all the more. The -night Si sang. The human voice, two tiny silky chords, wonderful, more -than all others. -That voice was a lamentation. Calmer now. It's in the silence after -you feel you hear. Vibrations. Now silent air. -Bloom ungyved his crisscrossed hands and with slack fingers plucked -the slender catgut thong. He drew and plucked. It buzz, it twanged. While -Goulding talked of Barraclough's voice production, while Tom Kernan, -harking back in a retrospective sort of arrangement talked to listening -Father Cowley, who played a voluntary, who nodded as he played. While -big Ben Dollard talked with Simon Dedalus, lighting, who nodded as he -smoked, who smoked. -Thou lost one. All songs on that theme. Yet more Bloom stretched his -string. Cruel it seems. Let people get fond of each other lure them on. -Then tear asunder. Death. Explos. Knock on the head. Outtohelloutofthat. -Human life. Dignam. Ugh, that rat's tail wriggling Five bob I gave. -CORPUS PARADISUM. Corncrake croaker belly like a poisoned pup. Gone. -They sing. Forgotten. I too And one day she with. Leave her get tired. -Suffer then. Snivel. Big spanishy eyes goggling at nothing. Her -wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhair un comb'd. -Yet too much happy bores. He stretched more, more. Are you not -happy in your? Twang. It snapped. -Jingle into Dorset street. -Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. -Don't make half so free, said she, till we are better acquainted. -George Lidwell told her really and truly but she did not believe. -First gentleman told Mina that was so. She asked him was that so. -And second tankard told her so. That that was so. -Miss Douce, miss Lydia, did not believe miss Kennedy, Mina, did not -believe George Lidwell, no miss Dou did not the first, the first gent -with the tank believe, no, no did not, miss Kenn Lidlydiawell the -tank. -Better write it here. Quills in the postoffice chewed and twisted. -Bald Pat at a sign drew nigh. A pen and ink. He went. A pad. He -went. A pad to blot. He heard, deaf Pat. -Yes, Mr Bloom said, teasing the curling catgut line. It certainly is. -Few lines will do. My present. All that Italian florid music is. Who is -this wrote? Know the name you know better. Take out sheet notepaper, -envelope unconcerned. It's so characteristic. -Grandest number in the whole opera, Goulding said. -It is, Bloom said. -Numbers it is. All music when you come to think. Two multiplied by two -divided by half is twice one. Vibrations chords those are. One plus two -plus six is seven. Do anything you like with figures juggling. Always find -out this equal to that. Symmetry under a cemetery wall. He doesn't see my -mourning. Callous all for his own gut. Musemathematics. And you think -you're listening to the etherial. But suppose you said it like Martha, -seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Fall quite flat. It's on -account of the sounds it is. -Instance he's playing now. Improvising. Might be what you like, till -you hear the words. Want to listen sharp. Hard. Begin all right then hear -chords a bit off feel lost a bit. In and out of sacks, over barrels, -through wirefences, obstacle race. Time makes the tune. Question of mood -you're in. Still always nice to hear. Except scales up and down, girls -learning. Two together nextdoor neighbours. Ought to invent dummy pianos -for that. BLUMENLIED I bought for her. The name. Playing it slow, a girl, -night I came home, the girl. Door of the stables near Cecilia street. -Milly no taste. Queer because we both, I mean. -Bald deaf Pat brought quite flat pad ink. Pat set with ink pen quite -flat pad. Pat took plate dish knife fork. Pat went. -It was the only language Mr Dedalus said to Ben. He heard them as a -boy in Ringabella, Crosshaven, Ringabella, singing their barcaroles. -Queenstown harbour full of Italian ships. Walking, you know, Ben, in the -moonlight with those earthquake hats. Blending their voices. God, such -music, Ben. Heard as a boy. Cross Ringabella haven mooncarole. -Sour pipe removed he held a shield of hand beside his lips that cooed -a moonlight nightcall, clear from anear, a call from afar, replying. -Down the edge of his FREEMAN baton ranged Bloom's, your other eye, -scanning for where did I see that. Callan, Coleman, Dignam Patrick. -Heigho Heigho Fawcett. Aha Just I was looking ... -Hope he's not looking, cute as a rat. He held unfurled his FREEMAN. -Can't see now. Remember write Greek ees. Bloom dipped, Bloo mur dear -sir. Dear Henry wrote dear Mady. Got your lett and flow. Hell did I put? -Some pock or oth. It is utterl imposs. Underline IMPOSS. To write today. -Bore this. Bored Bloom tambourined gently with I am just reflecting -fingers on flat pad Pat brought. -On. Know what I mean. No, change that ee. Accep my poor litt pres -enclos. Ask her no answ. Hold on. Five Dig. Two about here. Penny the -gulls. Elijah is com. Seven Davy Byrne's. Is eight about. Say half a -crown. My poor little pres p. o. two and six. Write me a long. Do you -despise? Jingle, have you the? So excited. Why do you call me naught? -You naughty too? O, Mairy lost the string of her. Bye for today. Yes, yes, -will tell you. Want to. To keep it up. Call me that other. Other world she -wrote. My patience are exhaust. To keep it up. You must believe. Believe. -The tank. It. Is. True. -Folly am I writing? Husbands don't. That's marriage does, their -wives. Because I'm away from. Suppose. But how? She must. Keep young. -If she found out. Card in my high grade ha. No, not tell all. Useless -pain. If they don't see. Woman. Sauce for the gander. -A hackney car, number three hundred and twentyfour, driver Barton James of -number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on which sat a fare, a young -gentleman, stylishly dressed in an indigoblue serge suit made by -George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five Eden quay, and -wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one -Great Brunswick street, hatter. Eh? This is the jingle that joggled and -jingled. By Dlugacz' porkshop bright tubes of Agendath trotted a -gallantbuttocked mare. -Answering an ad? keen Richie's eyes asked Bloom. -Yes, Mr Bloom said. Town traveller. Nothing doing, I expect. -Bloom mur best references. But Henry wrote it will excite me. You -know how. In haste. Henry. Greek ee. Better add postscript. What is he -playing now? Improvising. Intermezzo. P. S. The rum tum tum. How will -you pun? You punish me? Crooked skirt swinging, whack by. Tell me I want -to. Know. O. Course if I didn't I wouldn't ask. La la la ree. Trails off -there sad in minor. Why minor sad? Sign H. They like sad tail at end. -P. P. S. La la la ree. I feel so sad today. La ree. So lonely. Dee. -He blotted quick on pad of Pat. Envel. Address. Just copy out of -paper. Murmured Messrs Callan, Coleman and Co, limited. Henry wrote -Miss Martha Clifford -c/o P. O. -Dolphin's Barn Lane -Dublin -Blot over the other so he can't read. There. Right. Idea prize titbit. -Something detective read off blottingpad. Payment at the rate of guinea -per col. Matcham often thinks the laughing witch. Poor Mrs Purefoy. U. P -up. -Too poetical that about the sad. Music did that. Music hath charms. -Shakespeare said. Quotations every day in the year. To be or not to be. -Wisdom while you wait. -In Gerard's rosery of Fetter lane he walks, greyedauburn. One life is -all. One body. Do. But do. -Done anyhow. Postal order, stamp. Postoffice lower down. Walk -now. Enough. Barney Kiernan's I promised to meet them. Dislike that job. -House of mourning. Walk. Pat Doesn't hear. Deaf beetle he is. -Car near there now. Talk. Talk. Pat Doesn't. Settling those napkins. -Lot of ground he must cover in the day. Paint face behind on him then he'd -be two. Wish they'd sing more. Keep my mind off. -Bald Pat who is bothered mitred the napkins. Pat is a waiter hard of -his hearing. Pat is a waiter who waits while you wait. Hee hee hee hee. He -waits while you wait. Hee hee. A waiter is he. Hee hee hee hee. He waits -while you wait. While you wait if you wait he will wait while you wait. -Hee hee hee hee. Hoh. Wait while you wait. -Douce now. Douce Lydia. Bronze and rose. -She had a gorgeous, simply gorgeous, time. And look at the lovely -shell she brought. -To the end of the bar to him she bore lightly the spiked and winding -seahorn that he, George Lidwell, solicitor, might hear. -Listen she bade him. -Under Tom Kernan's ginhot words the accompanist wove music slow. -Authentic fact. How Walter Bapty lost his voice. Well, sir, the husband -took him by the throat. SCOUNDREL, said he, YOU'LL SING NO MORE LOVESONGS. -He did, faith, sir Tom. Bob Cowley wove. Tenors get wom. Cowley lay back. -Ah, now he heard, she holding it to his ear. Hear He heard. -Wonderful. She held it to her own. And through the sifted light pale gold -in contrast glided. To hear. -Tap. -Bloom through the bardoor saw a shell held at their ears. He heard -more faintly that that they heard, each for herself alone, then each for -other, hearing the plash of waves, loudly, a silent roar. -Bronze by a weary gold, anear, afar, they listened. -Her ear too is a shell, the peeping lobe there. Been to the seaside. -Lovely seaside girls. Skin tanned raw. Should have put on coldcream first -make it brown. Buttered toast. O and that lotion mustn't forget. Fever -near her mouth. Your head it simply. Hair braided over shell with -seaweed. Why do they hide their ears with seaweed hair? And Turks the -mouth, why? Her eyes over the sheet. Yashmak. Find the way in. A cave. No -admittance except on business. -The sea they think they hear. Singing. A roar. The blood it is. Souse -in the ear sometimes. Well, it's a sea. Corpuscle islands. -Wonderful really. So distinct. Again. George Lidwell held its murmur, -hearing then laid it by, gently. -What are the wild waves saying? he asked her, smiled. -Charming, seasmiling and unanswering Lydia on Lidwell smiled. -Tap. -By Larry O'Rourke's, by Larry, bold Larry O', Boylan swayed and -Boylan turned. -From the forsaken shell miss Mina glided to her tankards waiting. -No, she was not so lonely archly miss Douce's head let Mr Lidwell know. -Walks in the moonlight by the sea. No, not alone. With whom? She nobly -answered with a gentleman friend. -Bob Cowley's twinkling fingers in the treble played again. The -landlord has the prior. A little time. Long John. Big Ben. Lightly he -played a light bright tinkling measure for tripping ladies, arch and -smiling, and for their gallants, gentlemen friends. One one, one, one, -one, one two, one, three, four. -Sea, wind, leaves, thunder, waters, cows lowing, the cattlemarket, -cocks, hens don't crow, snakes hissss. There's music everywhere. -Ruttledge's door ee creaking. No, that's noise. Minuet of DON GIOVANNI -he's playing now. Court dresses of all descriptions in castle chambers -dancing. Misery. Peasants outside. Green starving faces eating -dockleaves. Nice that is. Look look, look, look, look, look you -look at us. -That's joyful I can feel. Never have written it. Why? My joy is other -joy. But both are joys. Yes, joy it must be. Mere fact of music shows you -are. Often thought she was in the dumps till she began to lilt. Then -know. -M'Coy valise. My wife and your wife. Squealing cat. Like tearing silk. -Tongue when she talks like the clapper of a bellows. They can't manage -men's intervals. Gap in their voices too. Fill me. I'm warm, dark, open. -Molly in QUIS EST HOMO Mercadante. My ear against the wall to hear. Want -a woman who can deliver the goods. -Jog jig jogged stopped. Dandy tan shoe of dandy Boylan socks -skyblue clocks came light to earth. -O, look we are so Chamber music. Could make a kind of pun on -that. It is a kind of music I often thought when she. Acoustics that is. -Tinkling. Empty vessels make most noise. Because the acoustics, the -resonance changes according as the weight of the water is equal to the law -of falling water. Like those rhapsodies of Liszt's, Hungarian, gipsyeyed. -Pearls. Drops. Rain. Diddleiddle addleaddle ooddleooddle. Hissss. Now. -Maybe now. Before. -One rapped on a door, one tapped with a knock, did he knock Paul -de Kock with a loud proud knocker with a cock carracarracarra cock. -Cockcock. -Tap. -QUI SDEGNO, Ben, said Father Cowley. -No, Ben, Tom Kernan interfered. THE CROPPY BOY. Our native Doric. -Ay do, Ben, Mr Dedalus said. Good men and true. -Do, do, they begged in one. -I'll go. Here, Pat, return. Come. He came, he came, he did not stay. -To me. How much? -What key? Six sharps? -F sharp major, Ben Dollard said. -Bob Cowley's outstretched talons griped the black deepsounding chords. -Must go prince Bloom told Richie prince. No, Richie said. Yes, must. -Got money somewhere. He's on for a razzle backache spree. Much? He -seehears lipspeech. One and nine. Penny for yourself. Here. Give him -twopence tip. Deaf, bothered. But perhaps he has wife and family waiting, -waiting Patty come home. Hee hee hee hee. Deaf wait while they wait. -But wait. But hear. Chords dark. Lugugugubrious. Low. In a cave of -the dark middle earth. Embedded ore. Lumpmusic. -The voice of dark age, of unlove, earth's fatigue made grave approach -and painful, come from afar, from hoary mountains, called on good men -and true. The priest he sought. With him would he speak a word. -Tap. -Ben Dollard's voice. Base barreltone. Doing his level best to say it. -Croak of vast manless moonless womoonless marsh. Other comedown. Big -ships' chandler's business he did once. Remember rosiny ropes, ships' -lanterns. Failed to the tune of ten thousand pounds. Now in the Iveagh -home. Cubicle number so and so. Number one Bass did that for him. -The priest's at home. A false priest's servant bade him welcome. Step -in. The holy father. With bows a traitor servant. Curlycues of chords. -Ruin them. Wreck their lives. Then build them cubicles to end their -days in. Hushaby. Lullaby. Die, dog. Little dog, die. -The voice of warning, solemn warning, told them the youth had -entered a lonely hall, told them how solemn fell his footsteps there, told -them the gloomy chamber, the vested priest sitting to shrive. -Decent soul. Bit addled now. Thinks he'll win in ANSWERS, poets' -picture puzzle. We hand you crisp five pound note. Bird sitting hatching -in a nest. Lay of the last minstrel he thought it was. See blank tee what -domestic animal? Tee dash ar most courageous mariner. Good voice he has -still. No eunuch yet with all his belongings. -Listen. Bloom listened. Richie Goulding listened. And by the door -deaf Pat, bald Pat, tipped Pat, listened. The chords harped slower. -The voice of penance and of grief came slow, embellished, tremulous. -Ben's contrite beard confessed. IN NOMINE DOMINI, in God's name he knelt. -He beat his hand upon his breast, confessing MEA CULPA. -Latin again. That holds them like birdlime. Priest with the -communion corpus for those women. Chap in the mortuary, coffin or -coffey, CORPUSNOMINE. Wonder where that rat is by now. Scrape. -Tap. -They listened. Tankards and miss Kennedy. George Lidwell, eyelid -well expressive, fullbusted satin. Kernan. Si. -The sighing voice of sorrow sang. His sins. Since Easter he had -cursed three times. You bitch's bast. And once at masstime he had gone to -play. Once by the churchyard he had passed and for his mother's rest he -had not prayed. A boy. A croppy boy. -Bronze, listening, by the beerpull gazed far away. Soulfully. Doesn't -half know I'm. Molly great dab at seeing anyone looking. -Bronze gazed far sideways. Mirror there. Is that best side of her face? -They always know. Knock at the door. Last tip to titivate. -Cockcarracarra. -What do they think when they hear music? Way to catch rattlesnakes. -Night Michael Gunn gave us the box. Tuning up. Shah of Persia liked that -best. Remind him of home sweet home. Wiped his nose in curtain too. -Custom his country perhaps. That's music too. Not as bad as it sounds. -Tootling. Brasses braying asses through uptrunks. Doublebasses helpless, -gashes in their sides. Woodwinds mooing cows. Semigrand open crocodile -music hath jaws. Woodwind like Goodwin's name. -She looked fine. Her crocus dress she wore lowcut, belongings on -show. Clove her breath was always in theatre when she bent to ask a -question. Told her what Spinoza says in that book of poor papa's. -Hypnotised, listening. Eyes like that. She bent. Chap in dresscircle -staring down into her with his operaglass for all he was worth. Beauty -of music you must hear twice. Nature woman half a look. God made the -country man the tune. Met him pike hoses. Philosophy. O rocks -All gone. All fallen. At the siege of Ross his father, at Gorey all his -brothers fell. To Wexford, we are the boys of Wexford, he would. Last of -his name and race. -I too. Last of my race. Milly young student. Well, my fault perhaps. -No son. Rudy. Too late now. Or if not? If not? If still? -He bore no hate. -Hate. Love. Those are names. Rudy. Soon I am old. Big Ben his voice -unfolded. Great voice Richie Goulding said, a flush struggling in his -pale, to Bloom soon old. But when was young? -Ireland comes now. My country above the king. She listens. Who -fears to speak of nineteen four? Time to be shoving. Looked enough. -BLESS ME, FATHER, Dollard the croppy cried. BLESS ME AND LET ME GO. -Tap. -Bloom looked, unblessed to go. Got up to kill on eighteen bob a -week. Fellows shell out the dibs. Want to keep your weathereye open. Those -girls, those lovely. By the sad sea waves. Chorusgirl's romance. Letters -read out for breach of promise. From Chickabiddy's owny Mumpsypum. -Laughter in court. Henry. I never signed it. The lovely name you. -Low sank the music, air and words. Then hastened. The false priest -rustling soldier from his cassock. A yeoman captain. They know it all by -heart. The thrill they itch for. Yeoman cap. -Tap. Tap. -Thrilled she listened, bending in sympathy to hear. -Blank face. Virgin should say or fingered only. Write something on -it page. If not what becomes of them? Decline, despair. Keeps them young. -Even admire themselves. See. Play on her. Lip blow. Body of white woman, -a flute alive. Blow gentle. Loud. Three holes, all women. Goddess I didn't -see. They want it. Not too much polite. That's why he gets them. Gold in -your pocket, brass in your face. Say something. Make her hear. With look -to look. Songs without words. Molly, that hurdygurdy boy. She knew he -meant the monkey was sick. Or because so like the Spanish. Understand -animals too that way. Solomon did. Gift of nature. -Ventriloquise. My lips closed. Think in my stom. What? -Will? You? I. Want. You. To. -With hoarse rude fury the yeoman cursed, swelling in apoplectic -bitch's bastard. A good thought, boy, to come. One hour's your time to -live, your last. -Tap. Tap. -Thrill now. Pity they feel. To wipe away a tear for martyrs that want -to, dying to, die. For all things dying, for all things born. Poor Mrs -Purefoy. Hope she's over. Because their wombs. -A liquid of womb of woman eyeball gazed under a fence of lashes, -calmly, hearing. See real beauty of the eye when she not speaks. On yonder -river. At each slow satiny heaving bosom's wave her heaving embon red -rose rose slowly sank red rose. Heartbeats her breath breath that is -life. And all the tiny tiny fernfoils trembled of maidenhair. -But look. The bright stars fade. O rose Castile. The morn. Ha. -Lidwell. For him then not for. Infatuated. I like that? See her -from here though. Popped corks, splashes of beerfroth, stacks of empties. -On the smooth jutting beerpull laid Lydia hand, lightly, plumply, leave -it to my hands. All lost in pity for croppy. Fro, to to, fro over the -polished knob she knows his eyes, my eyes, her eyes her thumb and finger -passed in pity passed, reposed and, gently touching, then slid so -smoothly, slowly down, a cool firm white enamel baton protruding through -their sliding ring. -With a cock with a carra. -Tap. Tap. Tap. -I hold this house. Amen. He gnashed in fury. Traitors swing. -The chords consented. Very sad thing. But had to be. Get out before -the end. Thanks, that was heavenly. Where's my hat. Pass by her. Can -leave that Freeman. Letter I have. Suppose she were the? No. Walk, -walk, walk. Like Cashel Boylo Connoro Coylo Tisdall Maurice Tisntdall -Farrell. Waaaaaaalk. -Well, I must be. Are you off? Yrfmstbyes. Blmstup. O'er ryehigh blue. -Ow. Bloom stood up. Soap feeling rather sticky behind. Must have -sweated music. That lotion, remember. Well, so long. High grade. Card -inside. Yes. -By deaf Pat in the doorway straining ear Bloom passed. -At Geneva barrack that young man died. At Passage was his body -laid. Dolor O, he dolores The voice of the mournful chanter called to -dolorous prayer. -By rose, by satiny bosom, by the fondling hand, by slops, by empties, -by popped corks, greeting in going, past eyes and maidenhair, bronze and -faint gold in deepseashadow, went Bloom, soft Bloom, I feel so lonely -Bloom. -Tap. Tap. Tap. -Pray for him, prayed the bass of Dollard. You who hear in peace. Breathe -a prayer, drop a tear, good men, good people. He was the croppy boy. -Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in the Ormond -hallway heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their boots -all treading, boots not the boots the boy. General chorus off for a swill -to wash it down. Glad I avoided. -Come on, Ben, Simon Dedalus cried. By God, you're as good as ever you -were. -Better, said Tomgin Kernan. Most trenchant rendition of that ballad, -upon my soul and honour It is. -Lablache, said Father Cowley. -Ben Dollard bulkily cachuchad towards the bar, mightily praisefed and all -big roseate, on heavyfooted feet, his gouty fingers nakkering castagnettes -in the air. -Big Benaben Dollard. Big Benben. Big Benben. -Rrr. -And deepmoved all, Simon trumping compassion from foghorn nose, -all laughing they brought him forth, Ben Dollard, in right good cheer. -You're looking rubicund, George Lidwell said. -Miss Douce composed her rose to wait. -Ben machree, said Mr Dedalus, clapping Ben's fat back shoulderblade. -Fit as a fiddle only he has a lot of adipose tissue concealed about his -person. -Rrrrrrrsss. -Fat of death, Simon, Ben Dollard growled. -Richie rift in the lute alone sat Goulding, Collis, Ward. Uncertainly -he waited. Unpaid Pat too. -Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. -Miss Mina Kennedy brought near her lips to ear of tankard one. -Mr Dollard, they murmured low. -Dollard, murmured tankard. -Tank one believed miss Kenn when she that doll he was she doll -the tank. -He murmured that he knew the name. The name was familiar to him, -that is to say. That was to say he had heard the name of. Dollard, was it? -Dollard, yes. -Yes, her lips said more loudly, Mr Dollard. He sang that song lovely, -murmured Mina. Mr Dollard. And THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER was a lovely -song. Mina loved that song. Tankard loved the song that Mina. -'Tis the last rose of summer dollard left bloom felt wind wound round -inside. -Gassy thing that cider binding too. Wait. Postoffice near Reuben J's -one and eightpence too. Get shut of it. Dodge round by Greek street. Wish -I hadn't promised to meet. Freer in air. Music. Gets on your nerves. -Beerpull. Her hand that rocks the cradle rules the. Ben Howth. That rules -the world. -Far. Far. Far. Far. -Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. -Up the quay went Lionelleopold, naughty Henry with letter for -Mady, with sweets of sin with frillies for Raoul with met him pike hoses -went Poldy on. -Tap blind walked tapping by the tap the curbstone tapping, tap by tap. -Cowley, he stuns himself with it kind of drunkenness. Better give -way only half way the way of a man with a maid. Instance enthusiasts. All -ears. Not lose a demisemiquaver. Eyes shut. Head nodding in time. Dotty. -You daren't budge. Thinking strictly prohibited. Always talking shop. -Fiddlefaddle about notes. -All a kind of attempt to talk. Unpleasant when it stops because you -never know exac. Organ in Gardiner street. Old Glynn fifty quid a year. -Queer up there in the cockloft, alone, with stops and locks and keys. -Seated all day at the organ. Maunder on for hours, talking to himself or -the other fellow blowing the bellows. Growl angry, then shriek cursing -want to have wadding or something in his no don't she cried, then all of -a soft sudden wee little wee little pipy wind. -Pwee A wee little wind piped eeee. In Bloom's little wee. -Was he? Mr Dedalus said, returning with fetched pipe. I was with him -this morning at poor little Paddy Dignam's ... -Ay, the Lord have mercy on him. -By the bye there's a tuningfork in there on the ... -Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. -The wife has a fine voice. Or had. What? Lidwell asked. -O, that must be the tuner, Lydia said to Simonlionel first I saw, forgot -it when he was here. -Blind he was she told George Lidwell second I saw. And played so -exquisitely, treat to hear. Exquisite contrast bronzelid, minagold. -Shout Ben Dollard shouted, pouring. Sing out -'lldo cried Father Cowley. -Rrrrrr. -I feel I want ... -Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap -Very, Mr Dedalus said, staring hard at a headless sardine. -Under the sandwichbell lay on a bier of bread one last, one lonely, last -sardine of summer. Bloom alone. -Very, he stared. The lower register, for choice. -Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. -Bloom went by Barry's. Wish I could. Wait. That wonderworker if I -had. Twentyfour solicitors in that one house. Counted them. Litigation. -Love one another. Piles of parchment. Messrs Pick and Pocket have power -of attorney. Goulding, Collis, Ward. -But for example the chap that wallops the big drum. His vocation -Mickey Rooney's band. Wonder how it first struck him. Sitting at home -after pig's cheek and cabbage nursing it in the armchair. Rehearsing his -band part. Pom. Pompedy. Jolly for the wife. Asses' skins. Welt them -through life, then wallop after death. Pom. Wallop. Seems to be what you -call yashmak or I mean kismet. Fate. -Tap. Tap. A stripling, blind, with a tapping cane came taptaptapping -by Daly's window where a mermaid hair all streaming but he couldn't see -blew whiffs of a mermaid blind couldn't, mermaid, coolest whiff of all. -Instruments. A blade of grass, shell of her hands, then blow. Even -comb and tissuepaper you can knock a tune out of. Molly in her shift in -Lombard street west, hair down. I suppose each kind of trade made its own, -don't you see? Hunter with a horn. Haw. Have you the? CLOCHE. SONNEZ LA. -Shepherd his pipe. Pwee little wee. Policeman a whistle. Locks and keys -Sweep Four o'clock's all's well Sleep All is lost now. Drum? Pompedy. -Wait. I know. Towncrier, bumbailiff. Long John. Waken the dead. Pom. -Dignam. Poor little NOMINEDOMINE. Pom. It is music. I mean of course it's -all pom pom pom very much what they call DA CAPO. Still you can hear. As -we march, we march along, march along. Pom. -I must really. Fff. Now if I did that at a banquet. Just a question of -custom shah of Persia. Breathe a prayer, drop a tear. All the same he must -have been a bit of a natural not to see it was a yeoman cap. Muffled up. -Wonder who was that chap at the grave in the brown macin. O, the whore -of the lane -A frowsy whore with black straw sailor hat askew came glazily in the -day along the quay towards Mr Bloom. When first he saw that form -endearing? Yes, it is. I feel so lonely. Wet night in the lane. Horn. Who -had the? Heehaw shesaw. Off her beat here. What is she? Hope she. Psst -Any chance of your wash. Knew Molly. Had me decked. Stout lady does be -with you in the brown costume. Put you off your stroke, that. Appointment -we made knowing we'd never, well hardly ever. Too dear too near to home -sweet home. Sees me, does she? Looks a fright in the day. Face like dip. -Damn her. O, well, she has to live like the rest. Look in here. -In Lionel Marks's antique saleshop window haughty Henry Lionel -Leopold dear Henry Flower earnestly Mr Leopold Bloom envisaged -battered candlesticks melodeon oozing maggoty blowbags. Bargain six bob. -Might learn to play. Cheap. Let her pass. Course everything is dear if -you don't want it. That's what good salesman is. Make you buy what he -wants to sell. Chap sold me the Swedish razor he shaved me with. Wanted -to charge me for the edge he gave it. She's passing now. Six bob. -Must be the cider or perhaps the burgund. -Near bronze from anear near gold from afar they chinked their clinking -glasses all, brighteyed and gallant, before bronze Lydia's tempting -last rose of summer, rose of Castile. First Lid, De, Cow, Ker, Doll, a -fifth Lidwell, Si Dedalus, Bob Cowley, Kernan and big Ben Dollard. -Tap. A youth entered a lonely Ormond hall. -Bloom viewed a gallant pictured hero in Lionel Marks's window. Robert -Emmet's last words. Seven last words. Of Meyerbeer that is. -True men like you men. -Ay, ay, Ben. -Will lift your glass with us. -They lifted. -Tschink. Tschunk. -Tip. An unseeing stripling stood in the door. He saw not bronze. He -saw not gold. Nor Ben nor Bob nor Tom nor Si nor George nor tanks nor -Richie nor Pat. Hee hee hee hee. He did not see. -Seabloom, greaseabloom viewed last words. Softly. WHEN MY COUNTRY -TAKES HER PLACE AMONG. -Prrprr. -Must be the bur. -Fff Oo. Rrpr. -NATIONS OF THE EARTH. Noone behind. She's passed. THEN AND NOT TILL -THEN. Tram kran kran kran. Good oppor. Coming. Krandlkrankran. I'm -sure it's the burgund. Yes. One, two. LET MY EPITAPH BE. Kraaaaaa. -WRITTEN. I HAVE. -Pprrpffrrppffff. -DONE. -I was just passing the time of day with old Troy of the D. M. P. at the -corner of Arbour hill there and be damned but a bloody sweep came along -and he near drove his gear into my eye. I turned around to let him have -the weight of my tongue when who should I see dodging along Stony Batter -only Joe Hynes. -Lo, Joe, says I. How are you blowing? Did you see that bloody -chimneysweep near shove my eye out with his brush? -Soot's luck, says Joe. Who's the old ballocks you were talking to? -Old Troy, says I, was in the force. I'm on two minds not to give that -fellow in charge for obstructing the thoroughfare with his brooms and -ladders. -What are you doing round those parts? says Joe. -Devil a much, says I. There's a bloody big foxy thief beyond by the -garrison church at the corner of Chicken laneold Troy was just giving -me a wrinkle about himlifted any God's quantity of tea and sugar to pay -three bob a week said he had a farm in the county Down off a -hopofmythumb by the name of Moses Herzog over there near Heytesbury -street. -Circumcised? says Joe. -Ay, says I. A bit off the top. An old plumber named Geraghty. I'm -hanging on to his taw now for the past fortnight and I can't get a penny -out of him. -That the lay you're on now? says Joe. -Ay, says I. How are the mighty fallen Collector of bad and doubtful -debts. But that's the most notorious bloody robber you'd meet in a day's -walk and the face on him all pockmarks would hold a shower of rain. TELL -HIM, says he, I DARE HIM, says he, AND I DOUBLEDARE HIM TO SEND YOU ROUND -HERE AGAIN OR IF HE DOES, says he, I'LL HAVE HIM SUMMONSED UP BEFORE THE -COURT, SO I WILL, FOR TRADING WITHOUT A LICENCE. And he after stuffing -himself till he's fit to burst. Jesus, I had to laugh at the little jewy -getting his shirt out. HE DRINK ME MY TEAS. HE EAT ME MY SUGARS. BECAUSE -HE NO PAY ME MY MONEYS? -For nonperishable goods bought of Moses Herzog, of Saint -Kevin's parade in the city of Dublin, Wood quay ward, merchant, -hereinafter called the vendor, and sold and delivered to Michael E. -Geraghty, esquire, of Arbour hill in the city of Dublin, Arran quay -ward, gentleman, hereinafter called the purchaser, videlicet, five pounds -avoirdupois of first choice tea at three shillings and no pence per pound -avoirdupois and three stone avoirdupois of sugar, crushed crystal, at -threepence per pound avoirdupois, the said purchaser debtor to the said -vendor of one pound five shillings and sixpence sterling for value -received which amount shall be paid by said purchaser to said vendor in -weekly instalments every seven calendar days of three shillings and no -pence sterling and the said nonperishable goods shall not be pawned or -pledged or sold or otherwise alienated by the said purchaser but shall be -and remain and be held to be the sole and exclusive property of the said -vendor to be disposed of at his good will and pleasure until the said -amount shall have been duly paid by the said purchaser to the said vendor -in the manner herein set forth as this day hereby agreed between the said -vendor, his heirs, successors, trustees and assigns of the one part and -the said purchaser, his heirs, successors, trustees and assigns of the -other part. -Are you a strict t.t.? says Joe. -Not taking anything between drinks, says I. -What about paying our respects to our friend? says Joe. -Who? says I. Sure, he's out in John of God's off his head, poor man. -Drinking his own stuff? says Joe. -Ay, says I. Whisky and water on the brain. -Come around to Barney Kiernan's, says Joe. I want to see the citizen. -Barney mavourneen's be it, says I. Anything strange or wonderful, Joe? -Not a word, says Joe. I was up at that meeting in the City Arms. -What was that, Joe? says I. -Cattle traders, says Joe, about the foot and mouth disease. I want to -give the citizen the hard word about it. -So we went around by the Linenhall barracks and the back of the -courthouse talking of one thing or another. Decent fellow Joe when he has -it but sure like that he never has it. Jesus, I couldn't get over that -bloody foxy Geraghty, the daylight robber. For trading without a licence, -says he. -In Inisfail the fair there lies a land, the land of holy Michan. There -rises a watchtower beheld of men afar. There sleep the mighty dead as in -life they slept, warriors and princes of high renown. A pleasant land it -is in sooth of murmuring waters, fishful streams where sport the gurnard, -the plaice, the roach, the halibut, the gibbed haddock, the grilse, -the dab, the brill, the flounder, the pollock, the mixed coarse fish -generally and other denizens of the aqueous kingdom too numerous to be -enumerated. In the mild breezes of the west and of the east the lofty -trees wave in different directions their firstclass foliage, the wafty -sycamore, the Lebanonian cedar, the exalted planetree, the eugenic -eucalyptus and other ornaments of the arboreal world with which that -region is thoroughly well supplied. Lovely maidens sit in close proximity -to the roots of the lovely trees singing the most lovely songs while they -play with all kinds of lovely objects as for example golden ingots, -silvery fishes, crans of herrings, drafts of eels, codlings, creels of -fingerlings, purple seagems and playful insects. And heroes voyage from -afar to woo them, from Eblana to Slievemargy, the peerless princes of -unfettered Munster and of Connacht the just and of smooth sleek Leinster -and of Cruahan's land and of Armagh the splendid and of the noble district -of Boyle, princes, the sons of kings. -And there rises a shining palace whose crystal glittering roof is seen by -mariners who traverse the extensive sea in barks built expressly for that -purpose, and thither come all herds and fatlings and firstfruits of that -land for O'Connell Fitzsimon takes toll of them, a chieftain descended -from chieftains. Thither the extremely large wains bring foison of the -fields, flaskets of cauliflowers, floats of spinach, pineapple chunks, -Rangoon beans, strikes of tomatoes, drums of figs, drills of Swedes, -spherical potatoes and tallies of iridescent kale, York and Savoy, and -trays of onions, pearls of the earth, and punnets of mushrooms and -custard marrows and fat vetches and bere and rape and red green yellow -brown russet sweet big bitter ripe pomellated apples and chips of -strawberries and sieves of gooseberries, pulpy and pelurious, and -strawberries fit for princes and raspberries from their canes. -I dare him, says he, and I doubledare him. Come out here, Geraghty, -you notorious bloody hill and dale robber -And by that way wend the herds innumerable of bellwethers and -flushed ewes and shearling rams and lambs and stubble geese and medium -steers and roaring mares and polled calves and longwoods and storesheep -and Cuffe's prime springers and culls and sowpigs and baconhogs and the -various different varieties of highly distinguished swine and Angus -heifers and polly bulllocks of immaculate pedigree together with prime -premiated milchcows and beeves and there is ever heard a trampling, -cackling, roaring, lowing, bleating, bellowing, rumbling, grunting, -champing, chewing, of sheep and pigs and heavyhooved kine from -pasturelands of Lusk and Rush and Carrickmines and from the streamy vales -of Thomond, from the M'Gillicuddy's reeks the inaccessible and lordly -Shannon the unfathomable, and from the gentle declivities of the place of -the race of Kiar, their udders distended with superabundance of milk and -butts of butter and rennets of cheese and farmer's firkins and targets of -lamb and crannocks of corn and oblong eggs in great hundreds, various in -size, the agate with this dun. -So we turned into Barney Kiernan's and there, sure enough, was the citizen -up in the corner having a great confab with himself and that bloody -mangy mongrel, Garryowen, and he waiting for what the sky would drop -in the way of drink. -There he is, says I, in his gloryhole, with his cruiskeen lawn and his -load of papers, working for the cause. -The bloody mongrel let a grouse out of him would give you the creeps. Be -a corporal work of mercy if someone would take the life of that -bloody dog. I'm told for a fact he ate a good part of the breeches off a -constabulary man in Santry that came round one time with a blue paper -about a licence. -Stand and deliver, says he. -That's all right, citizen, says Joe. Friends here. -Pass, friends, says he. -Then he rubs his hand in his eye and says he -What's your opinion of the times? -Doing the rapparee and Rory of the hill. But, begob, Joe was equal to -the occasion. -I think the markets are on a rise, says he, sliding his hand down his -fork. -So begob the citizen claps his paw on his knee and he says -Foreign wars is the cause of it. -And says Joe, sticking his thumb in his pocket -It's the Russians wish to tyrannise. -Arrah, give over your bloody codding, Joe, says I. I've a thirst on me I -wouldn't sell for half a crown. -Give it a name, citizen, says Joe. -Wine of the country, says he. -What's yours? says Joe. -Ditto MacAnaspey, says I. -Three pints, Terry, says Joe. And how's the old heart, citizen? says he. -Never better, A CHARA, says he. What Garry? Are we going to win? Eh? -And with that he took the bloody old towser by the scruff of the neck -and, by Jesus, he near throttled him. -The figure seated on a large boulder at the foot of a round tower -was that of a broadshouldered deepchested stronglimbed frankeyed -redhaired freelyfreckled shaggybearded widemouthed largenosed -longheaded deepvoiced barekneed brawnyhanded hairylegged ruddyfaced -sinewyarmed hero. From shoulder to shoulder he measured several ells and -his rocklike mountainous knees were covered, as was likewise the rest of -his body wherever visible, with a strong growth of tawny prickly hair in -hue and toughness similar to the mountain gorse ULEX EUROPEUS. The -widewinged nostrils, from which bristles of the same tawny hue projected, -were of such capaciousness that within their cavernous obscurity the -fieldlark might easily have lodged her nest. The eyes in which a tear and -a smile strove ever for the mastery were of the dimensions of a goodsized -cauliflower. A powerful current of warm breath issued at regular intervals -from the profound cavity of his mouth while in rhythmic resonance the -loud strong hale reverberations of his formidable heart thundered -rumblingly causing the ground, the summit of the lofty tower and the still -loftier walls of the cave to vibrate and tremble. -He wore a long unsleeved garment of recently flayed oxhide reaching to the -knees in a loose kilt and this was bound about his middle by a girdle of -plaited straw and rushes. Beneath this he wore trews of deerskin, roughly -stitched with gut. His nether extremities were encased in high Balbriggan -buskins dyed in lichen purple, the feet being shod with brogues of salted -cowhide laced with the windpipe of the same beast. From his girdle hung a -row of seastones which jangled at every movement of his portentous frame -and on these were graven with rude yet striking art the tribal images of -many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin, Conn of hundred -battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the ardri Malachi, Art -MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick -Sarsfield, Red Hugh O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan -O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy Higgins, Henry Joy M'Cracken, -Goliath, Horace Wheatley, Thomas Conneff, Peg Woffington, the Village -Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri, -Christopher Columbus, S. Fursa, S. Brendan, Marshal MacMahon, -Charlemagne, Theobald Wolfe Tone, the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last -of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castile, the Man for Galway, The Man that -Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, The Man in the Gap, The Woman Who -Didn't, Benjamin Franklin, Napoleon Bonaparte, John L. Sullivan, -Cleopatra, Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas -Lipton, William Tell, Michelangelo Hayes, Muhammad, the Bride of -Lammermoor, Peter the Hermit, Peter the Packer, Dark Rosaleen, Patrick -W. Shakespeare, Brian Confucius, Murtagh Gutenberg, Patricio -Velasquez, Captain Nemo, Tristan and Isolde, the first Prince of Wales, -Thomas Cook and Son, the Bold Soldier Boy, Arrah na Pogue, Dick -Turpin, Ludwig Beethoven, the Colleen Bawn, Waddler Healy, Angus the -Culdee, Dolly Mount, Sidney Parade, Ben Howth, Valentine Greatrakes, -Adam and Eve, Arthur Wellesley, Boss Croker, Herodotus, Jack the -Giantkiller, Gautama Buddha, Lady Godiva, The Lily of Killarney, Balor -of the Evil Eye, the Queen of Sheba, Acky Nagle, Joe Nagle, Alessandro -Volta, Jeremiah O'Donovan Rossa, Don Philip O'Sullivan Beare. A -couched spear of acuminated granite rested by him while at his feet -reposed a savage animal of the canine tribe whose stertorous gasps -announced that he was sunk in uneasy slumber, a supposition confirmed by -hoarse growls and spasmodic movements which his master repressed from time -to time by tranquilising blows of a mighty cudgel rudely fashioned out of -paleolithic stone. -So anyhow Terry brought the three pints Joe was standing and begob -the sight nearly left my eyes when I saw him land out a quid O, as true as -I'm telling you. A goodlooking sovereign. -And there's more where that came from, says he. -Were you robbing the poorbox, Joe? says I. -Sweat of my brow, says Joe. 'Twas the prudent member gave me the wheeze. -I saw him before I met you, says I, sloping around by Pill lane and -Greek street with his cod's eye counting up all the guts of the fish. -Who comes through Michan's land, bedight in sable armour? O'Bloom, -the son of Rory it is he. Impervious to fear is Rory's son he -of the prudent soul. -For the old woman of Prince's street, says the citizen, the subsidised -organ. The pledgebound party on the floor of the house. And look at this -blasted rag, says he. Look at this, says he. THE IRISH INDEPENDENT, if you -please, founded by Parnell to be the workingman's friend. Listen to the -births and deaths in the IRISH ALL FOR IRELAND INDEPENDENT, and I'll thank -you and the marriages. -And he starts reading them out -Gordon, Barnfield crescent, Exeter Redmayne of Iffley, Saint Anne's on -Sea the wife of William T Redmayne of a son. How's that, eh? Wright and -Flint, Vincent and Gillett to Rotha Marion daughter of Rosa and the late -George Alfred Gillett, Clapham road, Stockwell, Playwood and -Ridsdale at Saint Jude's, Kensington by the very reverend Dr Forrest, dean -of Worcester. Eh? Deaths. Bristow, at Whitehall lane, London Carr, Stoke -Newington, of gastritis and heart disease Cockburn, at the Moat house, -Chepstow ... -I know that fellow, says Joe, from bitter experience. -Cockburn. Dimsey, wife of David Dimsey, late of the admiralty Miller, -Tottenham, aged eightyfive Welsh, June , at Canning street, -Liverpool, Isabella Helen. How's that for a national press, eh, my brown -son How's that for Martin Murphy, the Bantry jobber? -Ah, well, says Joe, handing round the boose. Thanks be to God they had -the start of us. Drink that, citizen. -I will, says he, honourable person. -Health, Joe, says I. And all down the form. -Ah Ow Don't be talking I was blue mouldy for the want of that -pint. Declare to God I could hear it hit the pit of my stomach with a -click. -And lo, as they quaffed their cup of joy, a godlike messenger came -swiftly in, radiant as the eye of heaven, a comely youth and behind him -there passed an elder of noble gait and countenance, bearing the sacred -scrolls of law and with him his lady wife a dame of peerless lineage, -fairest of her race. -Little Alf Bergan popped in round the door and hid behind Barney's -snug, squeezed up with the laughing. And who was sitting up there in the -corner that I hadn't seen snoring drunk blind to the world only Bob Doran. -I didn't know what was up and Alf kept making signs out of the door. And -begob what was it only that bloody old pantaloon Denis Breen in his -bathslippers with two bloody big books tucked under his oxter and the wife -hotfoot after him, unfortunate wretched woman, trotting like a poodle. I -thought Alf would split. -Look at him, says he. Breen. He's traipsing all round Dublin with a -postcard someone sent him with U. p up on it to take a li ... -And he doubled up. -Take a what? says I. -Libel action, says he, for ten thousand pounds. -O hell says I. -The bloody mongrel began to growl that'd put the fear of God in you -seeing something was up but the citizen gave him a kick in the ribs. -BI I DHO HUSHT, says he. -Who? says Joe. -Breen, says Alf. He was in John Henry Menton's and then he went round -to Collis and Ward's and then Tom Rochford met him and sent him round -to the subsheriff's for a lark. O God, I've a pain laughing. U. p up. The -long fellow gave him an eye as good as a process and now the bloody old -lunatic is gone round to Green street to look for a G man. -When is long John going to hang that fellow in Mountjoy? says Joe. -Bergan, says Bob Doran, waking up. Is that Alf Bergan? -Yes, says Alf. Hanging? Wait till I show you. Here, Terry, give us a -pony. That bloody old fool Ten thousand pounds. You should have seen long -John's eye. U. p ... -And he started laughing. -Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran. Is that Bergan? -Hurry up, Terry boy, says Alf. -Terence O'Ryan heard him and straightway brought him a crystal -cup full of the foamy ebon ale which the noble twin brothers Bungiveagh -and Bungardilaun brew ever in their divine alevats, cunning as the sons of -deathless Leda. For they garner the succulent berries of the hop and mass -and sift and bruise and brew them and they mix therewith sour juices and -bring the must to the sacred fire and cease not night or day from their -toil, those cunning brothers, lords of the vat. -Then did you, chivalrous Terence, hand forth, as to the manner born, -that nectarous beverage and you offered the crystal cup to him that -thirsted, the soul of chivalry, in beauty akin to the immortals. -But he, the young chief of the O'Bergan's, could ill brook to be outdone -in generous deeds but gave therefor with gracious gesture a testoon -of costliest bronze. Thereon embossed in excellent smithwork was seen the -image of a queen of regal port, scion of the house of Brunswick, Victoria -her name, Her Most Excellent Majesty, by grace of God of the United -Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of the British dominions beyond -the sea, queen, defender of the faith, Empress of India, even she, who -bore rule, a victress over many peoples, the wellbeloved, for they knew -and loved her from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, the -pale, the dark, the ruddy and the ethiop. -What's that bloody freemason doing, says the citizen, prowling up and -down outside? -What's that? says Joe. -Here you are, says Alf, chucking out the rhino. Talking about hanging, -I'll show you something you never saw. Hangmen's letters. Look at here. -So he took a bundle of wisps of letters and envelopes out of his pocket. -Are you codding? says I. -Honest injun, says Alf. Read them. -So Joe took up the letters. -Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran. -So I saw there was going to be a bit of a dust Bob's a queer chap -when the porter's up in him so says I just to make talk -How's Willy Murray those times, Alf? -I don't know, says Alf I saw him just now in Capel street with Paddy -Dignam. Only I was running after that ... -You what? says Joe, throwing down the letters. With who? -With Dignam, says Alf. -Is it Paddy? says Joe. -Yes, says Alf. Why? -Don't you know he's dead? says Joe. -Paddy Dignam dead says Alf. -Ay, says Joe. -Sure I'm after seeing him not five minutes ago, says Alf, as plain as a -pikestaff. -Who's dead? says Bob Doran. -You saw his ghost then, says Joe, God between us and harm. -What? says Alf. Good Christ, only five ... What? ... And Willy Murray -with him, the two of them there near whatdoyoucallhim's ... What? -Dignam dead? -What about Dignam? says Bob Doran. Who's talking about... ? -Dead says Alf. He's no more dead than you are. -Maybe so, says Joe. They took the liberty of burying him this morning -anyhow. -Paddy? says Alf. -Ay, says Joe. He paid the debt of nature, God be merciful to him. -Good Christ says Alf. -Begob he was what you might call flabbergasted. -In the darkness spirit hands were felt to flutter and when prayer by -tantras had been directed to the proper quarter a faint but increasing -luminosity of ruby light became gradually visible, the apparition of the -etheric double being particularly lifelike owing to the discharge of jivic -rays from the crown of the head and face. Communication was effected -through the pituitary body and also by means of the orangefiery and -scarlet rays emanating from the sacral region and solar plexus. Questioned -by his earthname as to his whereabouts in the heavenworld he stated that -he was now on the path of pr l ya or return but was still submitted to -trial at the hands of certain bloodthirsty entities on the lower astral -levels. In reply to a question as to his first sensations in the great -divide beyond he stated that previously he had seen as in a glass darkly -but that those who had passed over had summit possibilities of atmic -development opened up to them. Interrogated as to whether life there -resembled our experience in the flesh he stated that he had heard from -more favoured beings now in the spirit that their abodes were equipped -with every modern home comfort such as talafana, alavatar, hatakalda, -wataklasat and that the highest adepts were steeped in waves of volupcy -of the very purest nature. Having requested a quart of buttermilk this was -brought and evidently afforded relief. Asked if he had any message -for the living he exhorted all who were still at the wrong side of Maya -to acknowledge the true path for it was reported in devanic circles that -Mars and Jupiter were out for mischief on the eastern angle where the -ram has power. It was then queried whether there were any special -desires on the part of the defunct and the reply was WE GREET YOU, -FRIENDS OF EARTH, WHO ARE STILL IN THE BODY. MIND C. K. DOESN'T PILE IT -ON. It was ascertained that the reference was to Mr Cornelius Kelleher, -manager of Messrs H. J. O'Neill's popular funeral establishment, a -personal friend of the defunct, who had been responsible for the carrying -out of the interment arrangements. Before departing he requested that it -should be told to his dear son Patsy that the other boot which he had been -looking for was at present under the commode in the return room and that -the pair should be sent to Cullen's to be soled only as the heels were -still good. He stated that this had greatly perturbed his peace of mind in -the other region and earnestly requested that his desire should be made -known. -Assurances were given that the matter would be attended to and it was -intimated that this had given satisfaction. -He is gone from mortal haunts O'Dignam, sun of our morning. Fleet -was his foot on the bracken Patrick of the beamy brow. Wail, Banba, with -your wind and wail, O ocean, with your whirlwind. -There he is again, says the citizen, staring out. -Who? says I. -Bloom, says he. He's on point duty up and down there for the last ten -minutes. -And, begob, I saw his physog do a peep in and then slidder off again. -Little Alf was knocked bawways. Faith, he was. -Good Christ says he. I could have sworn it was him. -And says Bob Doran, with the hat on the back of his poll, lowest -blackguard in Dublin when he's under the influence -Who said Christ is good? -I beg your parsnips, says Alf. -Is that a good Christ, says Bob Doran, to take away poor little Willy -Dignam? -Ah, well, says Alf, trying to pass it off. He's over all his troubles. -But Bob Doran shouts out of him. -He's a bloody ruffian, I say, to take away poor little Willy Dignam. -Terry came down and tipped him the wink to keep quiet, that they -didn't want that kind of talk in a respectable licensed premises. And Bob -Doran starts doing the weeps about Paddy Dignam, true as you're there. -The finest man, says he, snivelling, the finest purest character. -The tear is bloody near your eye. Talking through his bloody hat. -Fitter for him go home to the little sleepwalking bitch he married, -Mooney, the bumbailiff's daughter, mother kept a kip in Hardwicke street, -that used to be stravaging about the landings Bantam Lyons told me that -was stopping there at two in the morning without a stitch on her, exposing -her person, open to all comers, fair field and no favour. -The noblest, the truest, says he. And he's gone, poor little Willy, poor -little Paddy Dignam. -And mournful and with a heavy heart he bewept the extinction of that -beam of heaven. -Old Garryowen started growling again at Bloom that was skeezing -round the door. -Come in, come on, he won't eat you, says the citizen. -So Bloom slopes in with his cod's eye on the dog and he asks Terry -was Martin Cunningham there. -O, Christ M'Keown, says Joe, reading one of the letters. Listen to this, -will you? -And he starts reading out one. - HUNTER STREET, LIVERPOOL. -TO THE HIGH SHERIFF OF DUBLIN, DUBLIN. -HONOURED SIR I BEG TO OFFER MY SERVICES IN THE ABOVEMENTIONED PAINFUL -CASE I HANGED JOE GANN IN BOOTLE JAIL ON THE OF FEBUARY AND I -HANGED ... -Show us, Joe, says I. -... PRIVATE ARTHUR CHACE FOR FOWL MURDER OF JESSIE TILSIT IN -PENTONVILLE PRISON AND I WAS ASSISTANT WHEN ... -Jesus, says I. -... BILLINGTON EXECUTED THE AWFUL MURDERER TOAD SMITH ... -The citizen made a grab at the letter. -Hold hard, says Joe, I HAVE A SPECIAL NACK OF PUTTING THE NOOSE ONCE IN -HE CAN'T GET OUT HOPING TO BE FAVOURED I REMAIN, HONOURED SIR, MY TERMS IS -FIVE GINNEES. -H. RUMBOLD, -MASTER BARBER. -And a barbarous bloody barbarian he is too, says the citizen. -And the dirty scrawl of the wretch, says Joe. Here, says he, take them -to hell out of my sight, Alf. Hello, Bloom, says he, what will you have? -So they started arguing about the point, Bloom saying he wouldn't -and he couldn't and excuse him no offence and all to that and then he said -well he'd just take a cigar. Gob, he's a prudent member and no mistake. -Give us one of your prime stinkers, Terry, says Joe. -And Alf was telling us there was one chap sent in a mourning card -with a black border round it. -They're all barbers, says he, from the black country that would hang -their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses. -And he was telling us there's two fellows waiting below to pull his -heels down when he gets the drop and choke him properly and then they -chop up the rope after and sell the bits for a few bob a skull. -In the dark land they bide, the vengeful knights of the razor. Their -deadly coil they grasp yea, and therein they lead to Erebus whatsoever -wight hath done a deed of blood for I will on nowise suffer it even so -saith the Lord. -So they started talking about capital punishment and of course Bloom -comes out with the why and the wherefore and all the codology of the -business and the old dog smelling him all the time I'm told those jewies -does have a sort of a queer odour coming off them for dogs about I don't -know what all deterrent effect and so forth and so on. -There's one thing it hasn't a deterrent effect on, says Alf. -What's that? says Joe. -The poor bugger's tool that's being hanged, says Alf. -That so? says Joe. -God's truth, says Alf. I heard that from the head warder that was in -Kilmainham when they hanged Joe Brady, the invincible. He told me when -they cut him down after the drop it was standing up in their faces like a -poker. -Ruling passion strong in death, says Joe, as someone said. -That can be explained by science, says Bloom. It's only a natural -phenomenon, don't you see, because on account of the ... -And then he starts with his jawbreakers about phenomenon and -science and this phenomenon and the other phenomenon. -The distinguished scientist Herr Professor Luitpold Blumenduft -tendered medical evidence to the effect that the instantaneous fracture of -the cervical vertebrae and consequent scission of the spinal cord would, -according to the best approved tradition of medical science, be calculated -to inevitably produce in the human subject a violent ganglionic stimulus -of the nerve centres of the genital apparatus, thereby causing the elastic -pores of the CORPORA CAVERNOSA to rapidly dilate in such a way as to -instantaneously facilitate the flow of blood to that part of the human -anatomy known as the penis or male organ resulting in the phenomenon which -has been denominated by the faculty a morbid upwards and outwards -philoprogenitive erection IN ARTICULO MORTIS PER DIMINUTIONEM CAPITIS. -So of course the citizen was only waiting for the wink of the word and -he starts gassing out of him about the invincibles and the old guard and -the men of sixtyseven and who fears to speak of ninetyeight and Joe with -him about all the fellows that were hanged, drawn and transported for the -cause by drumhead courtmartial and a new Ireland and new this, that and -the other. Talking about new Ireland he ought to go and get a new dog so -he ought. Mangy ravenous brute sniffing and sneezing all round the place -and scratching his scabs. And round he goes to Bob Doran that was -standing Alf a half one sucking up for what he could get. So of course Bob -Doran starts doing the bloody fool with him -Give us the paw Give the paw, doggy Good old doggy Give the paw -here Give us the paw -Arrah, bloody end to the paw he'd paw and Alf trying to keep him -from tumbling off the bloody stool atop of the bloody old dog and he -talking all kinds of drivel about training by kindness and thoroughbred -dog and intelligent dog give you the bloody pip. Then he starts scraping -a few bits of old biscuit out of the bottom of a Jacobs' tin he told Terry -to bring. Gob, he golloped it down like old boots and his tongue hanging -out of him a yard long for more. Near ate the tin and all, hungry bloody -mongrel. -And the citizen and Bloom having an argument about the point, the -brothers Sheares and Wolfe Tone beyond on Arbour Hill and Robert -Emmet and die for your country, the Tommy Moore touch about Sara -Curran and she's far from the land. And Bloom, of course, with his -knockmedown cigar putting on swank with his lardy face. Phenomenon -The fat heap he married is a nice old phenomenon with a back on her like a -ballalley. Time they were stopping up in the CITY ARMS pisser Burke told -me there was an old one there with a cracked loodheramaun of a nephew and -Bloom trying to get the soft side of her doing the mollycoddle playing -bezique to come in for a bit of the wampum in her will and not eating meat -of a Friday because the old one was always thumping her craw and taking -the lout out for a walk. And one time he led him the rounds of Dublin and, -by the holy farmer, he never cried crack till he brought him home as drunk -as a boiled owl and he said he did it to teach him the evils of alcohol -and by herrings, if the three women didn't near roast him, it's a queer -story, the old one, Bloom's wife and Mrs O'Dowd that kept the hotel. -Jesus, I had to laugh at pisser Burke taking them off chewing the fat. -And Bloom with his BUT DON'T YOU SEE? and BUT ON THE OTHER HAND. And sure, -more be token, the lout I'm told was in Power's after, the blender's, -round in Cope street going home footless in a cab five times in the week -after drinking his way through all the samples in the bloody -establishment. Phenomenon -The memory of the dead, says the citizen taking up his pintglass and -glaring at Bloom. -Ay, ay, says Joe. -You don't grasp my point, says Bloom. What I mean is ... -SINN FEIN says the citizen. SINN FEIN AMHAIN The friends we love are -by our side and the foes we hate before us. -The last farewell was affecting in the extreme. From the belfries far -and near the funereal deathbell tolled unceasingly while all around the -gloomy precincts rolled the ominous warning of a hundred muffled drums -punctuated by the hollow booming of pieces of ordnance. The deafening -claps of thunder and the dazzling flashes of lightning which lit up the -ghastly scene testified that the artillery of heaven had lent its -supernatural pomp to the already gruesome spectacle. A torrential rain -poured down from the floodgates of the angry heavens upon the bared heads -of the assembled multitude which numbered at the lowest computation five -hundred thousand persons. A posse of Dublin Metropolitan police -superintended by the Chief Commissioner in person maintained order in -the vast throng for whom the York street brass and reed band whiled away -the intervening time by admirably rendering on their blackdraped -instruments the matchless melody endeared to us from the cradle by -Speranza's plaintive muse. Special quick excursion trains and upholstered -charabancs had been provided for the comfort of our country cousins of -whom there were large contingents. Considerable amusement was caused -by the favourite Dublin streetsingers Lnhn and Mllgn who sang THE -NIGHT BEFORE LARRY WAS STRETCHED in their usual mirthprovoking fashion. -Our two inimitable drolls did a roaring trade with their broadsheets among -lovers of the comedy element and nobody who has a corner in his heart for -real Irish fun without vulgarity will grudge them their hardearned -pennies. The children of the Male and Female Foundling Hospital who -thronged the windows overlooking the scene were delighted with this -unexpected addition to the day's entertainment and a word of praise is due -to the Little Sisters of the Poor for their excellent idea of affording -the poor fatherless and motherless children a genuinely instructive treat. -The viceregal houseparty which included many wellknown ladies was -chaperoned by Their Excellencies to the most favourable positions on the -grandstand while the picturesque foreign delegation known as the Friends -of the Emerald Isle was accommodated on a tribune directly opposite. -The delegation, present in full force, consisted of Commendatore -Bacibaci Beninobenone the semiparalysed DOYEN of the party who had -to be assisted to his seat by the aid of a powerful steam crane, -Monsieur Pierrepaul Petitepatant, the Grandjoker Vladinmire -Pokethankertscheff, the Archjoker Leopold Rudolph von -SchwanzenbadHodenthaler, Countess Marha Viraga Kisaszony Putrapesthi, -Hiram Y. Bomboost, Count Athanatos Karamelopulos, Ali Baba Backsheesh -Rahat Lokum Effendi, Senor Hidalgo Caballero Don Pecadillo y -Palabras y Paternoster de la Malora de la Malaria, Hokopoko Harakiri, -Hi Hung Chang, Olaf Kobberkeddelsen, Mynheer Trik van Trumps, -Pan Poleaxe Paddyrisky, Goosepond Prhklstr Kratchinabritchisitch, -Borus Hupinkoff, Herr Hurhausdirektorpresident Hans ChuechliSteuerli, -Nationalgymnasiummuseumsanatoriumandsuspensoriumsordinaryprivatdocent -generalhistoryspecialprofessordoctor Kriegfried Ueberallgemein. -All the delegates without exception expressed themselves in the -strongest possible heterogeneous terms concerning the nameless -barbarity which they had been called upon to witness. An animated -altercation in which all took part ensued among the F. O. T. E. I. -as to whether the eighth or the ninth of March was the correct -date of the birth of Ireland's patron saint. In the course of the -argument cannonballs, scimitars, boomerangs, blunderbusses, stinkpots, -meatchoppers, umbrellas, catapults, knuckledusters, sandbags, lumps of pig -iron were resorted to and blows were freely exchanged. The baby -policeman, Constable MacFadden, summoned by special courier from -Booterstown, quickly restored order and with lightning promptitude -proposed the seventeenth of the month as a solution equally honourable for -both contending parties. The readywitted ninefooter's suggestion at once -appealed to all and was unanimously accepted. Constable MacFadden was -heartily congratulated by all the F.O.T.E.I., several of whom were -bleeding profusely. Commendatore Beninobenone having been extricated -from underneath the presidential armchair, it was explained by his legal -adviser Avvocato Pagamimi that the various articles secreted in his -thirtytwo pockets had been abstracted by him during the affray from the -pockets of his junior colleagues in the hope of bringing them to their -senses. The objects which included several hundred ladies' and -gentlemen's gold and silver watches were promptly restored to their -rightful owners and general harmony reigned supreme. -Quietly, unassumingly Rumbold stepped on to the scaffold in faultless -morning dress and wearing his favourite flower, the GLADIOLUS CRUENTUS. -He announced his presence by that gentle Rumboldian cough which so -many have tried unsuccessfully to imitateshort, painstaking yet withal -so characteristic of the man. The arrival of the worldrenowned headsman -was greeted by a roar of acclamation from the huge concourse, the -viceregal ladies waving their handkerchiefs in their excitement while the -even more excitable foreign delegates cheered vociferously in a medley of -cries, HOCH, BANZAI, ELJEN, ZIVIO, CHINCHIN, POLLA KRONIA, HIPHIP, VIVE, -ALLAH, amid which the ringing EVVIVA of the delegate of the land of song -a high double F recalling those piercingly lovely notes with which the -eunuch Catalani beglamoured our greatgreatgrandmothers was easily -distinguishable. It was exactly seventeen o'clock. The signal for prayer -was then promptly given by megaphone and in an instant all heads were -bared, the commendatore's patriarchal sombrero, which has been in the -possession of his family since the revolution of Rienzi, being removed by -his medical adviser in attendance, Dr Pippi. The learned prelate who -administered the last comforts of holy religion to the hero martyr when -about to pay the death penalty knelt in a most christian spirit in a pool -of rainwater, his cassock above his hoary head, and offered up to the -throne of grace fervent prayers of supplication. Hand by the block stood -the grim figure of the executioner, his visage being concealed in a -tengallon pot with two circular perforated apertures through which -his eyes glowered furiously. As he awaited the fatal signal he -tested the edge of his horrible weapon by honing it upon his -brawny forearm or decapitated in rapid succession a flock of -sheep which had been provided by the admirers of his fell but necessary -office. On a handsome mahogany table near him were neatly arranged the -quartering knife, the various finely tempered disembowelling appliances -specially supplied by the worldfamous firm of cutlers, Messrs John Round -and Sons, Sheffield, a terra cotta saucepan for the reception of the -duodenum, colon, blind intestine and appendix etc when successfully -extracted and two commodious milkjugs destined to receive the most -precious blood of the most precious victim. The housesteward of the -amalgamated cats' and dogs' home was in attendance to convey these -vessels when replenished to that beneficent institution. Quite an -excellent repast consisting of rashers and eggs, fried steak and onions, -done to a nicety, delicious hot breakfast rolls and invigorating tea had -been considerately provided by the authorities for the consumption -of the central figure of the tragedy who was in capital spirits -when prepared for death and evinced the keenest interest in the -proceedings from beginning to end but he, with an abnegation rare -in these our times, rose nobly to the occasion and expressed the -dying wish immediately acceded to that the meal should be -divided in aliquot parts among the members of the sick and indigent -roomkeepers' association as a token of his regard and esteem. The NEC and -NON PLUS ULTRA of emotion were reached when the blushing bride elect burst -her way through the serried ranks of the bystanders and flung herself upon -the muscular bosom of him who was about to be launched into eternity for -her sake. The hero folded her willowy form in a loving embrace murmuring -fondly SHEILA, MY OWN. Encouraged by this use of her christian name she -kissed passionately all the various suitable areas of his person which the -decencies of prison garb permitted her ardour to reach. She swore to him -as they mingled the salt streams of their tears that she would ever -cherish his memory, that she would never forget her hero boy who went to -his death with a song on his lips as if he were but going to a hurling -match in Clonturk park. She brought back to his recollection the happy -days of blissful childhood together on the banks of Anna Liffey when they -had indulged in the innocent pastimes of the young and, oblivious of the -dreadful present, they both laughed heartily, all the spectators, -including the venerable pastor, joining in the general merriment. That -monster audience simply rocked with delight. But anon they were overcome -with grief and clasped their hands for the last time. A fresh torrent of -tears burst from their lachrymal ducts and the vast concourse of people, -touched to the inmost core, broke into heartrending sobs, not the least -affected being the aged prebendary himself. Big strong men, officers of -the peace and genial giants of the royal Irish constabulary, -were making frank use of their handkerchiefs and it is safe to say -that there was not a dry eye in that record assemblage. A most -romantic incident occurred when a handsome young Oxford graduate, -noted for his chivalry towards the fair sex, stepped forward and, -presenting his visiting card, bankbook and genealogical tree, -solicited the hand of the hapless young lady, requesting her to -name the day, and was accepted on the spot. Every lady in the -audience was presented with a tasteful souvenir of the occasion -in the shape of a skull and crossbones brooch, a timely and generous -act which evoked a fresh outburst of emotion and when the gallant -young Oxonian the bearer, by the way, of one of the most timehonoured -names in Albion's history placed on the finger of his blushing FIANCEE -an expensive engagement ring with emeralds set in the form of a -fourleaved shamrock the excitement knew no bounds. Nay, even the stern -provostmarshal, lieutenantcolonel TomkinMaxwell ffrenchmullan Tomlinson, -who presided on the sad occasion, he who had blown a considerable number -of sepoys from the cannonmouth without flinching, could not now restrain -his natural emotion. With his mailed gauntlet he brushed away a furtive -tear and was overheard, by those privileged burghers who happened to be -in his immediate ENTOURAGE, to murmur to himself in a faltering undertone -God blimey if she aint a clinker, that there bleeding tart. Blimey it -makes me kind of bleeding cry, straight, it does, when I sees her cause I -thinks of my old mashtub what's waiting for me down Limehouse way. -So then the citizen begins talking about the Irish language and the -corporation meeting and all to that and the shoneens that can't speak -their own language and Joe chipping in because he stuck someone for -a quid and Bloom putting in his old goo with his twopenny stump that -he cadged off of Joe and talking about the Gaelic league and the -antitreating league and drink, the curse of Ireland. Antitreating -is about the size of it. Gob, he'd let you pour all manner of drink -down his throat till the Lord would call him before you'd ever -see the froth of his pint. And one night I went in with a fellow -into one of their musical evenings, song and dance about she could -get up on a truss of hay she could my Maureen Lay and there was a fellow -with a Ballyhooly blue ribbon badge spiffing out of him in Irish and a lot -of colleen bawns going about with temperance beverages and selling medals -and oranges and lemonade and a few old dry buns, gob, flahoolagh -entertainment, don't be talking. Ireland sober is Ireland free. And then -an old fellow starts blowing into his bagpipes and all the gougers -shuffling their feet to the tune the old cow died of. And one or two sky -pilots having an eye around that there was no goings on with the females, -hitting below the belt. -So howandever, as I was saying, the old dog seeing the tin was empty -starts mousing around by Joe and me. I'd train him by kindness, so I -would, if he was my dog. Give him a rousing fine kick now and again where -it wouldn't blind him. -Afraid he'll bite you? says the citizen, jeering. -No, says I. But he might take my leg for a lamppost. -So he calls the old dog over. -What's on you, Garry? says he. -Then he starts hauling and mauling and talking to him in Irish and -the old towser growling, letting on to answer, like a duet in the opera. -Such growling you never heard as they let off between them. Someone that -has nothing better to do ought to write a letter PRO BONO PUBLICO to the -papers about the muzzling order for a dog the like of that. Growling and -grousing and his eye all bloodshot from the drouth is in it and the -hydrophobia dropping out of his jaws. -All those who are interested in the spread of human culture among -the lower animals and their name is legion should make a point of not -missing the really marvellous exhibition of cynanthropy given by the -famous old Irish red setter wolfdog formerly known by the SOBRIQUET of -Garryowen and recently rechristened by his large circle of friends and -acquaintances Owen Garry. The exhibition, which is the result of years of -training by kindness and a carefully thoughtout dietary system, comprises, -among other achievements, the recitation of verse. Our greatest living -phonetic expert wild horses shall not drag it from us has left no stone -unturned in his efforts to delucidate and compare the verse recited and has -found it bears a STRIKING resemblance the italics are ours to the ranns -of ancient Celtic bards. We are not speaking so much of those delightful -lovesongs with which the writer who conceals his identity under the -graceful pseudonym of the Little Sweet Branch has familiarised the -bookloving world but rather as a contributor D. O. C. points out in an -interesting communication published by an evening contemporary of the -harsher and more personal note which is found in the satirical effusions -of the famous Raftery and of Donal MacConsidine to say nothing of a more -modern lyrist at present very much in the public eye. We subjoin a -specimen which has been rendered into English by an eminent scholar -whose name for the moment we are not at liberty to disclose though -we believe that our readers will find the topical allusion rather -more than an indication. The metrical system of the canine original, -which recalls the intricate alliterative and isosyllabic rules of -the Welsh englyn, is infinitely more complicated but we believe our -readers will agree that the spirit has been well caught. Perhaps -it should be added that the effect is greatly increased if Owen's -verse be spoken somewhat slowly and indistinctly in a tone suggestive -of suppressed rancour. -THE CURSE OF MY CURSES -SEVEN DAYS EVERY DAY -AND SEVEN DRY THURSDAYS -ON YOU, BARNEY KIERNAN, -HAS NO SUP OF WATER -TO COOL MY COURAGE, -AND MY GUTS RED ROARING -AFTER LOWRY'S LIGHTS. -So he told Terry to bring some water for the dog and, gob, you could -hear him lapping it up a mile off. And Joe asked him would he have -another. -I will, says he, A CHARA, to show there's no ill feeling. -Gob, he's not as green as he's cabbagelooking. Arsing around from -one pub to another, leaving it to your own honour, with old Giltrap's dog -and getting fed up by the ratepayers and corporators. Entertainment for -man and beast. And says Joe -Could you make a hole in another pint? -Could a swim duck? says I. -Same again, Terry, says Joe. Are you sure you won't have anything in the -way of liquid refreshment? says he. -Thank you, no, says Bloom. As a matter of fact I just wanted to meet -Martin Cunningham, don't you see, about this insurance of poor Dignam's. -Martin asked me to go to the house. You see, he, Dignam, I mean, didn't -serve any notice of the assignment on the company at the time and -nominally under the act the mortgagee can't recover on the policy. -Holy Wars, says Joe, laughing, that's a good one if old Shylock is -landed. So the wife comes out top dog, what? -Well, that's a point, says Bloom, for the wife's admirers. -Whose admirers? says Joe. -The wife's advisers, I mean, says Bloom. -Then he starts all confused mucking it up about mortgagor under the act -like the lord chancellor giving it out on the bench and for the benefit of -the wife and that a trust is created but on the other hand that Dignam -owed Bridgeman the money and if now the wife or the widow contested the -mortgagee's right till he near had the head of me addled with his -mortgagor under the act. He was bloody safe he wasn't run in himself under -the act that time as a rogue and vagabond only he had a friend in court. -Selling bazaar tickets or what do you call it royal Hungarian privileged -lottery. True as you're there. O, commend me to an israelite Royal and -privileged Hungarian robbery. -So Bob Doran comes lurching around asking Bloom to tell Mrs -Dignam he was sorry for her trouble and he was very sorry about the -funeral and to tell her that he said and everyone who knew him said that -there was never a truer, a finer than poor little Willy that's dead to tell -her. Choking with bloody foolery. And shaking Bloom's hand doing the -tragic to tell her that. Shake hands, brother. You're a rogue and I'm -another. -Let me, said he, so far presume upon our acquaintance which, however -slight it may appear if judged by the standard of mere time, is founded, -as I hope and believe, on a sentiment of mutual esteem as to request of -you this favour. But, should I have overstepped the limits of reserve -let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness. -No, rejoined the other, I appreciate to the full the motives which -actuate your conduct and I shall discharge the office you entrust -to me consoled by the reflection that, though the errand be one of -sorrow, this proof of your confidence sweetens in some measure the -bitterness of the cup. -Then suffer me to take your hand, said he. The goodness of your heart, I -feel sure, will dictate to you better than my inadequate words the -expressions which are most suitable to convey an emotion whose -poignancy, were I to give vent to my feelings, would deprive me even of -speech. -And off with him and out trying to walk straight. Boosed at five -o'clock. Night he was near being lagged only Paddy Leonard knew the bobby, -A. Blind to the world up in a shebeen in Bride street after closing -time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard, drinking porter -out of teacups. And calling himself a Frenchy for the shawls, Joseph -Manuo, and talking against the Catholic religion, and he serving mass in -Adam and Eve's when he was young with his eyes shut, who wrote the new -testament, and the old testament, and hugging and smugging. And the two -shawls killed with the laughing, picking his pockets, the bloody -fool and he spilling the porter all over the bed and the two shawls -screeching laughing at one another. HOW IS YOUR TESTAMENT? HAVE YOU -GOT AN OLD TESTAMENT? Only Paddy was passing there, I tell you what. -Then see him of a Sunday with his little concubine of a wife, and -she wagging her tail up the aisle of the chapel with her patent boots -on her, no less, and her violets, nice as pie, doing the little lady. -Jack Mooney's sister. And the old prostitute of a mother -procuring rooms to street couples. Gob, Jack made him toe the line. Told -him if he didn't patch up the pot, Jesus, he'd kick the shite out of him. -So Terry brought the three pints. -Here, says Joe, doing the honours. Here, citizen. -SLAN LEAT, says he. -Fortune, Joe, says I. Good health, citizen. -Gob, he had his mouth half way down the tumbler already. Want a -small fortune to keep him in drinks. -Who is the long fellow running for the mayoralty, Alf? says Joe. -Friend of yours, says Alf. -Nannan? says Joe. The mimber? -I won't mention any names, says Alf. -I thought so, says Joe. I saw him up at that meeting now with William -Field, M. P., the cattle traders. -Hairy Iopas, says the citizen, that exploded volcano, the darling of all -countries and the idol of his own. -So Joe starts telling the citizen about the foot and mouth disease and -the cattle traders and taking action in the matter and the citizen sending -them all to the rightabout and Bloom coming out with his sheepdip for the -scab and a hoose drench for coughing calves and the guaranteed remedy -for timber tongue. Because he was up one time in a knacker's yard. -Walking about with his book and pencil here's my head and my heels are -coming till Joe Cuffe gave him the order of the boot for giving lip to a -grazier. Mister Knowall. Teach your grandmother how to milk ducks. -Pisser Burke was telling me in the hotel the wife used to be in rivers of -tears some times with Mrs O'Dowd crying her eyes out with her eight inches -of fat all over her. Couldn't loosen her farting strings but old cod's eye -was waltzing around her showing her how to do it. What's your programme -today? Ay. Humane methods. Because the poor animals suffer and experts -say and the best known remedy that doesn't cause pain to the animal and -on the sore spot administer gently. Gob, he'd have a soft hand under a -hen. -Ga Ga Gara. Klook Klook Klook. Black Liz is our hen. She lays eggs -for us. When she lays her egg she is so glad. Gara. Klook Klook Klook. -Then comes good uncle Leo. He puts his hand under black Liz and takes -her fresh egg. Ga ga ga ga Gara. Klook Klook Klook. -Anyhow, says Joe, Field and Nannetti are going over tonight to London -to ask about it on the floor of the house of commons. -Are you sure, says Bloom, the councillor is going? I wanted to see him, -as it happens. -Well, he's going off by the mailboat, says Joe, tonight. -That's too bad, says Bloom. I wanted particularly. Perhaps only Mr Field -is going. I couldn't phone. No. You're sure? -Nannan's going too, says Joe. The league told him to ask a question -tomorrow about the commissioner of police forbidding Irish games in the -park. What do you think of that, citizen? THE SLUAGH NA HEIREANN. -Mr Cowe Conacre Multifarnham. Nat. Arising out of the question of my -honourable friend, the member for Shillelagh, may I ask the right -honourable gentleman whether the government has issued orders that these -animals shall be slaughtered though no medical evidence is forthcoming as -to their pathological condition? -Mr Allfours Tamoshant. Con. Honourable members are already in -possession of the evidence produced before a committee of the whole house. -I feel I cannot usefully add anything to that. The answer to the -honourable member's question is in the affirmative. -Mr Orelli O'Reilly Montenotte. Nat. Have similar orders been issued for -the slaughter of human animals who dare to play Irish games in the -Phoenix park? -Mr Allfours The answer is in the negative. -Mr Cowe Conacre Has the right honourable gentleman's famous -Mitchelstown telegram inspired the policy of gentlemen on the Treasury -bench? O O -Mr Allfours I must have notice of that question. -Mr Staylewit Buncombe. Ind. Don't hesitate to shoot. -Ironical opposition cheers. -The speaker Order Order -The house rises. Cheers. -There's the man, says Joe, that made the Gaelic sports revival. There he -is sitting there. The man that got away James Stephens. The champion of -all Ireland at putting the sixteen pound shot. What was your best throw, -citizen? -NA BACLEIS, says the citizen, letting on to be modest. There was a time -I was as good as the next fellow anyhow. -Put it there, citizen, says Joe. You were and a bloody sight better. -Is that really a fact? says Alf. -Yes, says Bloom. That's well known. Did you not know that? -So off they started about Irish sports and shoneen games the like of lawn -tennis and about hurley and putting the stone and racy of the soil and -building up a nation once again and all to that. And of course Bloom had -to have his say too about if a fellow had a rower's heart violent -exercise was bad. I declare to my antimacassar if you took up a -straw from the bloody floor and if you said to Bloom LOOK AT, BLOOM. -DO YOU SEE THAT STRAW? THAT'S A STRAW. Declare to my aunt he'd talk -about it for an hour so he would and talk steady. -A most interesting discussion took place in the ancient hall of BRIAN -O'CIARNAIN'S in SRAID NA BRETAINE BHEAG, under the auspices of SLUAGH NA -HEIREANN, on the revival of ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of -physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and -ancient Ireland, for the development of the race. The venerable president -of the noble order was in the chair and the attendance was of large -dimensions. After an instructive discourse by the chairman, a magnificent -oration eloquently and forcibly expressed, a most interesting and -instructive discussion of the usual high standard of excellence -ensued as to the desirability of the revivability of the ancient -games and sports of our ancient Panceltic forefathers. The -wellknown and highly respected worker in the cause of our old -tongue, Mr Joseph M'Carthy Hynes, made an eloquent appeal for -the resuscitation of the ancient Gaelic sports and pastimes, -practised morning and evening by Finn MacCool, as calculated to revive the -best traditions of manly strength and prowess handed down to us from -ancient ages. L. Bloom, who met with a mixed reception of applause and -hisses, having espoused the negative the vocalist chairman brought the -discussion to a close, in response to repeated requests and hearty -plaudits from all parts of a bumper house, by a remarkably noteworthy -rendering of the immortal Thomas Osborne Davis' evergreen verses happily -too familiar to need recalling here A NATION ONCE AGAIN in the execution -of which the veteran patriot champion may be said without fear of -contradiction to have fairly excelled himself. The Irish CarusoGaribaldi -was in superlative form and his stentorian notes were heard to the -greatest advantage in the timehonoured anthem sung as only our citizen -can sing it. His superb highclass vocalism, which by its superquality -greatly enhanced his already international reputation, was vociferously -applauded by the large audience among which were to be noticed many -prominent members of the clergy as well as representatives of the press -and the bar and the other learned professions. The proceedings then -terminated. -Amongst the clergy present were the very rev. William Delany, S. J., -L. L. D. the rt rev. Gerald Molloy, D. D. the rev. P. J. Kavanagh, -C. S. Sp. the rev. T. Waters, C. C. the rev. John M. Ivers, P. P. the -rev. P. J. Cleary, O. S. F. the rev. L. J. Hickey, O. P. the very rev. -Fr. Nicholas, O. S. F. C. the very rev. B. Gorman, O. D. C. the rev. T. -Maher, S. J. the very rev. James Murphy, S. J. the rev. John Lavery, -V. F. the very rev. William Doherty, D. D. the rev. Peter Fagan, O. M. -the rev. T. Brangan, O. S. A. the rev. J. Flavin, C. C. the rev. M. A. -Hackett, C. C. the rev. W. Hurley, C. C. the rt rev. Mgr M'Manus, -V. G. the rev. B. R. Slattery, O. M. I. the very rev. M. D. Scally, P. -P. the rev. F. T. Purcell, O. P. the very rev. Timothy canon Gorman, -P. P. the rev. J. Flanagan, C. C. The laity included P. Fay, T. Quirke, -etc., etc. -Talking about violent exercise, says Alf, were you at that KeoghBennett -match? -No, says Joe. -I heard So and So made a cool hundred quid over it, says Alf. -Who? Blazes? says Joe. -And says Bloom -What I meant about tennis, for example, is the agility and training the -eye. -Ay, Blazes, says Alf. He let out that Myler was on the beer to run up -the odds and he swatting all the time. -We know him, says the citizen. The traitor's son. We know what put -English gold in his pocket. -True for you, says Joe. -And Bloom cuts in again about lawn tennis and the circulation of the -blood, asking Alf -Now, don't you think, Bergan? -Myler dusted the floor with him, says Alf. Heenan and Sayers was only a -bloody fool to it. Handed him the father and mother of a beating. See the -little kipper not up to his navel and the big fellow swiping. God, he gave -him one last puck in the wind, Queensberry rules and all, made him puke -what he never ate. -It was a historic and a hefty battle when Myler and Percy were -scheduled to don the gloves for the purse of fifty sovereigns. Handicapped -as he was by lack of poundage, Dublin's pet lamb made up for it by -superlative skill in ringcraft. The final bout of fireworks was a -gruelling for both champions. The welterweight sergeantmajor had -tapped some lively claret in the previous mixup during which Keogh -had been receivergeneral of rights and lefts, the artilleryman -putting in some neat work on the pet's nose, and Myler came on -looking groggy. The soldier got to business, leading off with a -powerful left jab to which the Irish gladiator retaliated by shooting -out a stiff one flush to the point of Bennett's jaw. The redcoat -ducked but the Dubliner lifted him with a left hook, the body punch being -a fine one. The men came to handigrips. Myler quickly became busy and got -his man under, the bout ending with the bulkier man on the ropes, Myler -punishing him. The Englishman, whose right eye was nearly closed, took -his corner where he was liberally drenched with water and when the bell -went came on gamey and brimful of pluck, confident of knocking out the -fistic Eblanite in jigtime. It was a fight to a finish and the best man -for it. The two fought like tigers and excitement ran fever high. The -referee twice cautioned Pucking Percy for holding but the pet was tricky -and his footwork a treat to watch. After a brisk exchange of courtesies -during which a smart upper cut of the military man brought blood freely -from his opponent's mouth the lamb suddenly waded in all over his man and -landed a terrific left to Battling Bennett's stomach, flooring him flat. -It was a knockout clean and clever. Amid tense expectation the Portobello -bruiser was being counted out when Bennett's second Ole Pfotts Wettstein -threw in the towel and the Santry boy was declared victor to the frenzied -cheers of the public who broke through the ringropes and fairly mobbed him -with delight. -He knows which side his bread is buttered, says Alf. I hear he's running -a concert tour now up in the north. -He is, says Joe. Isn't he? -Who? says Bloom. Ah, yes. That's quite true. Yes, a kind of summer tour, -you see. Just a holiday. -Mrs B. is the bright particular star, isn't she? says Joe. -My wife? says Bloom. She's singing, yes. I think it will be a success -too. -He's an excellent man to organise. Excellent. -Hoho begob says I to myself says I. That explains the milk in the cocoanut -and absence of hair on the animal's chest. Blazes doing the tootle on the -flute. Concert tour. Dirty Dan the dodger's son off Island bridge that -sold the same horses twice over to the government to fight the Boers. Old -Whatwhat. I called about the poor and water rate, Mr Boylan. You what? -The water rate, Mr Boylan. You whatwhat? That's the bucko that'll -organise her, take my tip. 'Twixt me and you Caddareesh. -Pride of Calpe's rocky mount, the ravenhaired daughter of Tweedy. -There grew she to peerless beauty where loquat and almond scent the air. -The gardens of Alameda knew her step the garths of olives knew and -bowed. The chaste spouse of Leopold is she Marion of the bountiful -bosoms. -And lo, there entered one of the clan of the O'Molloy's, a comely hero -of white face yet withal somewhat ruddy, his majesty's counsel learned in -the law, and with him the prince and heir of the noble line of Lambert. -Hello, Ned. -Hello, Alf. -Hello, Jack. -Hello, Joe. -God save you, says the citizen. -Save you kindly, says J. J. What'll it be, Ned? -Half one, says Ned. -So J. J. ordered the drinks. -Were you round at the court? says Joe. -Yes, says J. J. He'll square that, Ned, says he. -Hope so, says Ned. -Now what were those two at? J. J. getting him off the grand jury list -and the other give him a leg over the stile. With his name in Stubbs's. -Playing cards, hobnobbing with flash toffs with a swank glass in their -eye, adrinking fizz and he half smothered in writs and garnishee orders. -Pawning his gold watch in Cummins of Francis street where noone would -know him in the private office when I was there with Pisser releasing his -boots out of the pop. What's your name, sir? Dunne, says he. Ay, and done -says I. Gob, he'll come home by weeping cross one of those days, I'm -thinking. -Did you see that bloody lunatic Breen round there? says Alf. U. p up. -Yes, says J. J. Looking for a private detective. -Ay, says Ned. And he wanted right go wrong to address the court only -Corny Kelleher got round him telling him to get the handwriting examined -first. -Ten thousand pounds, says Alf, laughing. God, I'd give anything to hear -him before a judge and jury. -Was it you did it, Alf? says Joe. The truth, the whole truth and nothing -but the truth, so help you Jimmy Johnson. -Me? says Alf. Don't cast your nasturtiums on my character. -Whatever statement you make, says Joe, will be taken down in evidence -against you. -Of course an action would lie, says J. J. It implies that he is not -COMPOS MENTIS. U. p up. -COMPOS your eye says Alf, laughing. Do you know that he's balmy? -Look at his head. Do you know that some mornings he has to get his hat on -with a shoehorn. -Yes, says J. J., but the truth of a libel is no defence to an indictment -for publishing it in the eyes of the law. -Ha ha, Alf, says Joe. -Still, says Bloom, on account of the poor woman, I mean his wife. -Pity about her, says the citizen. Or any other woman marries a half and -half. -How half and half? says Bloom. Do you mean he ... -Half and half I mean, says the citizen. A fellow that's neither fish nor -flesh. -Nor good red herring, says Joe. -That what's I mean, says the citizen. A pishogue, if you know what that -is. -Begob I saw there was trouble coming. And Bloom explaining he meant on -account of it being cruel for the wife having to go round after the -old stuttering fool. Cruelty to animals so it is to let that bloody -povertystricken Breen out on grass with his beard out tripping him, -bringing down the rain. And she with her nose cockahoop after she married -him because a cousin of his old fellow's was pewopener to the pope. -Picture of him on the wall with his Smashall Sweeney's moustaches, the -signior Brini from Summerhill, the eyetallyano, papal Zouave to the Holy -Father, has left the quay and gone to Moss street. And who was he, tell -us? A nobody, two pair back and passages, at seven shillings a week, and -he covered with all kinds of breastplates bidding defiance to the world. -And moreover, says J. J., a postcard is publication. It was held to be -sufficient evidence of malice in the testcase Sadgrove v. Hole. In my -opinion an action might lie. -Six and eightpence, please. Who wants your opinion? Let us drink -our pints in peace. Gob, we won't be let even do that much itself. -Well, good health, Jack, says Ned. -Good health, Ned, says J. J. -There he is again, says Joe. -Where? says Alf. -And begob there he was passing the door with his books under his -oxter and the wife beside him and Corny Kelleher with his wall eye looking -in as they went past, talking to him like a father, trying to sell him a -secondhand coffin. -How did that Canada swindle case go off? says Joe. -Remanded, says J. J. -One of the bottlenosed fraternity it was went by the name of James -Wought alias Saphiro alias Spark and Spiro, put an ad in the papers saying -he'd give a passage to Canada for twenty bob. What? Do you see any green -in the white of my eye? Course it was a bloody barney. What? Swindled -them all, skivvies and badhachs from the county Meath, ay, and his own -kidney too. J. J. was telling us there was an ancient Hebrew Zaretsky or -something weeping in the witnessbox with his hat on him, swearing by the -holy Moses he was stuck for two quid. -Who tried the case? says Joe. -Recorder, says Ned. -Poor old sir Frederick, says Alf, you can cod him up to the two eyes. -Heart as big as a lion, says Ned. Tell him a tale of woe about arrears -of rent and a sick wife and a squad of kids and, faith, he'll dissolve in -tears on the bench. -Ay, says Alf. Reuben J was bloody lucky he didn't clap him in the dock -the other day for suing poor little Gumley that's minding stones, for the -corporation there near Butt bridge. -And he starts taking off the old recorder letting on to cry -A most scandalous thing This poor hardworking man How many -children? Ten, did you say? -Yes, your worship. And my wife has the typhoid. -And the wife with typhoid fever Scandalous Leave the court -immediately, sir. No, sir, I'll make no order for payment. How dare you, -sir, come up before me and ask me to make an order A poor hardworking -industrious man I dismiss the case. -And whereas on the sixteenth day of the month of the oxeyed goddess and in -the third week after the feastday of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, -the daughter of the skies, the virgin moon being then in her first -quarter, it came to pass that those learned judges repaired them to the -halls of law. There master Courtenay, sitting in his own chamber, -gave his rede and master Justice Andrews, sitting without a jury -in the probate court, weighed well and pondered the claim of the -first chargeant upon the property in the matter of the will -propounded and final testamentary disposition IN RE the real and -personal estate of the late lamented Jacob Halliday, vintner, deceased, -versus Livingstone, an infant, of unsound mind, and another. And to the -solemn court of Green street there came sir Frederick the Falconer. And he -sat him there about the hour of five o'clock to administer the law of the -brehons at the commission for all that and those parts to be holden in -and for the county of the city of Dublin. And there sat with him the high -sinhedrim of the twelve tribes of Iar, for every tribe one man, of the -tribe of Patrick and of the tribe of Hugh and of the tribe of Owen and of -the tribe of Conn and of the tribe of Oscar and of the tribe of -Fergus and of the tribe of Finn and of the tribe of Dermot and of -the tribe of Cormac and of the tribe of Kevin and of the tribe of -Caolte and of the tribe of Ossian, there being in all twelve good -men and true. And he conjured them by Him who died on rood that -they should well and truly try and true deliverance make in the -issue joined between their sovereign lord the king and the prisoner at -the bar and true verdict give according to the evidence so help them God -and kiss the book. And they rose in their seats, those twelve of Iar, and -they swore by the name of Him Who is from everlasting that they would do -His rightwiseness. And straightway the minions of the law led forth from -their donjon keep one whom the sleuthhounds of justice had apprehended in -consequence of information received. And they shackled him hand and foot -and would take of him ne bail ne mainprise but preferred a charge against -him for he was a malefactor. -Those are nice things, says the citizen, coming over here to Ireland -filling the country with bugs. -So Bloom lets on he heard nothing and he starts talking with Joe, telling -him he needn't trouble about that little matter till the first but if he -would just say a word to Mr Crawford. And so Joe swore high and holy by -this and by that he'd do the devil and all. -Because, you see, says Bloom, for an advertisement you must have -repetition. That's the whole secret. -Rely on me, says Joe. -Swindling the peasants, says the citizen, and the poor of Ireland. We -want no more strangers in our house. -O, I'm sure that will be all right, Hynes, says Bloom. It's just that -Keyes, you see. -Consider that done, says Joe. -Very kind of you, says Bloom. -The strangers, says the citizen. Our own fault. We let them come in. We -brought them in. The adulteress and her paramour brought the Saxon -robbers here. -Decree NISI, says J. J. -And Bloom letting on to be awfully deeply interested in nothing, a -spider's web in the corner behind the barrel, and the citizen scowling -after him and the old dog at his feet looking up to know who to bite and -when. -A dishonoured wife, says the citizen, that's what's the cause of all our -misfortunes. -And here she is, says Alf, that was giggling over the POLICE GAZETTE -with Terry on the counter, in all her warpaint. -Give us a squint at her, says I. -And what was it only one of the smutty yankee pictures Terry -borrows off of Corny Kelleher. Secrets for enlarging your private parts. -Misconduct of society belle. Norman W. Tupper, wealthy Chicago -contractor, finds pretty but faithless wife in lap of officer Taylor. -Belle in her bloomers misconducting herself, and her fancyman feeling for -her tickles and Norman W. Tupper bouncing in with his peashooter just in -time to be late after she doing the trick of the loop with officer Taylor. -O jakers, Jenny, says Joe, how short your shirt is -There's hair, Joe, says I. Get a queer old tailend of corned beef off of -that one, what? -So anyhow in came John Wyse Nolan and Lenehan with him with a -face on him as long as a late breakfast. -Well, says the citizen, what's the latest from the scene of action? What -did those tinkers in the city hall at their caucus meeting decide about -the Irish language? -O'Nolan, clad in shining armour, low bending made obeisance to the -puissant and high and mighty chief of all Erin and did him to wit of that -which had befallen, how that the grave elders of the most obedient city, -second of the realm, had met them in the tholsel, and there, after due -prayers to the gods who dwell in ether supernal, had taken solemn counsel -whereby they might, if so be it might be, bring once more into honour -among mortal men the winged speech of the seadivided Gael. -It's on the march, says the citizen. To hell with the bloody brutal -Sassenachs and their PATOIS. -So J. J. puts in a word, doing the toff about one story was good till -you heard another and blinking facts and the Nelson policy, putting your -blind eye to the telescope and drawing up a bill of attainder to impeach a -nation, and Bloom trying to back him up moderation and botheration and -their colonies and their civilisation. -Their syphilisation, you mean, says the citizen. To hell with them The -curse of a goodfornothing God light sideways on the bloody thicklugged -sons of whores' gets No music and no art and no literature worthy of the -name. Any civilisation they have they stole from us. Tonguetied sons of -bastards' ghosts. -The European family, says J. J. ... -They're not European, says the citizen. I was in Europe with Kevin Egan -of Paris. You wouldn't see a trace of them or their language anywhere in -Europe except in a CABINET D'AISANCE. -And says John Wyse -Full many a flower is born to blush unseen. -And says Lenehan that knows a bit of the lingo -CONSPUEZ LES ANGLAIS PERFIDE ALBION -He said and then lifted he in his rude great brawny strengthy hands -the medher of dark strong foamy ale and, uttering his tribal slogan LAMH -DEARG ABU, he drank to the undoing of his foes, a race of mighty valorous -heroes, rulers of the waves, who sit on thrones of alabaster silent as the -deathless gods. -What's up with you, says I to Lenehan. You look like a fellow that had -lost a bob and found a tanner. -Gold cup, says he. -Who won, Mr Lenehan? says Terry. -THROWAWAY, says he, at twenty to one. A rank outsider. And the rest -nowhere. -And Bass's mare? says Terry. -Still running, says he. We're all in a cart. Boylan plunged two quid on -my tip SCEPTRE for himself and a lady friend. -I had half a crown myself, says Terry, on ZINFANDEL that Mr Flynn gave -me. Lord Howard de Walden's. -Twenty to one, says Lenehan. Such is life in an outhouse. THROWAWAY, -says he. Takes the biscuit, and talking about bunions. Frailty, thy name -is SCEPTRE. -So he went over to the biscuit tin Bob Doran left to see if there was -anything he could lift on the nod, the old cur after him backing his luck -with his mangy snout up. Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard. -Not there, my child, says he. -Keep your pecker up, says Joe. She'd have won the money only for the -other dog. -And J. J. and the citizen arguing about law and history with Bloom -sticking in an odd word. -Some people, says Bloom, can see the mote in others' eyes but they can't -see the beam in their own. -RAIMEIS, says the citizen. There's noone as blind as the fellow that -won't see, if you know what that means. Where are our missing -twenty millions of Irish should be here today instead of four, -our lost tribes? And our potteries and textiles, the finest in -the whole world And our wool that was sold in Rome in the time -of Juvenal and our flax and our damask from the looms of Antrim -and our Limerick lace, our tanneries and our white flint glass -down there by Ballybough and our Huguenot poplin that we have since -Jacquard de Lyon and our woven silk and our Foxford tweeds and ivory -raised point from the Carmelite convent in New Ross, nothing like it in -the whole wide world. Where are the Greek merchants that came through the -pillars of Hercules, the Gibraltar now grabbed by the foe of mankind, with -gold and Tyrian purple to sell in Wexford at the fair of Carmen? Read -Tacitus and Ptolemy, even Giraldus Cambrensis. Wine, peltries, -Connemara marble, silver from Tipperary, second to none, our farfamed -horses even today, the Irish hobbies, with king Philip of Spain offering -to pay customs duties for the right to fish in our waters. What do the -yellowjohns of Anglia owe us for our ruined trade and our ruined hearths? -And the beds of the Barrow and Shannon they won't deepen with millions -of acres of marsh and bog to make us all die of consumption? -As treeless as Portugal we'll be soon, says John Wyse, or Heligoland -with its one tree if something is not done to reafforest the land. -Larches, firs, all the trees of the conifer family are going fast. I was -reading a report of lord Castletown's ... -Save them, says the citizen, the giant ash of Galway and the chieftain -elm of Kildare with a fortyfoot bole and an acre of foliage. Save the -trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of -Eire, O. -Europe has its eyes on you, says Lenehan. -The fashionable international world attended EN MASSE this afternoon -at the wedding of the chevalier Jean Wyse de Neaulan, grand high chief -ranger of the Irish National Foresters, with Miss Fir Conifer of Pine -Valley. Lady Sylvester Elmshade, Mrs Barbara Lovebirch, Mrs Poll Ash, -Mrs Holly Hazeleyes, Miss Daphne Bays, Miss Dorothy Canebrake, Mrs -Clyde Twelvetrees, Mrs Rowan Greene, Mrs Helen Vinegadding, Miss -Virginia Creeper, Miss Gladys Beech, Miss Olive Garth, Miss Blanche -Maple, Mrs Maud Mahogany, Miss Myra Myrtle, Miss Priscilla -Elderflower, Miss Bee Honeysuckle, Miss Grace Poplar, Miss O Mimosa -San, Miss Rachel Cedarfrond, the Misses Lilian and Viola Lilac, Miss -Timidity Aspenall, Mrs Kitty DeweyMosse, Miss May Hawthorne, Mrs -Gloriana Palme, Mrs Liana Forrest, Mrs Arabella Blackwood and Mrs -Norma Holyoake of Oakholme Regis graced the ceremony by their -presence. The bride who was given away by her father, the M'Conifer of -the Glands, looked exquisitely charming in a creation carried out in green -mercerised silk, moulded on an underslip of gloaming grey, sashed with a -yoke of broad emerald and finished with a triple flounce of darkerhued -fringe, the scheme being relieved by bretelles and hip insertions of acorn -bronze. The maids of honour, Miss Larch Conifer and Miss Spruce Conifer, -sisters of the bride, wore very becoming costumes in the same tone, a -dainty MOTIF of plume rose being worked into the pleats in a pinstripe and -repeated capriciously in the jadegreen toques in the form of heron -feathers of paletinted coral. Senhor Enrique Flor presided at the -organ with his wellknown ability and, in addition to the prescribed -numbers of the nuptial mass, played a new and striking arrangement -of WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE at the conclusion of the service. On -leaving the church of Saint Fiacre IN HORTO after the papal -blessing the happy pair were subjected to a playful crossfire -of hazelnuts, beechmast, bayleaves, catkins of willow, ivytod, -hollyberries, mistletoe sprigs and quicken shoots. Mr and Mrs Wyse -Conifer Neaulan will spend a quiet honeymoon in the Black Forest. -And our eyes are on Europe, says the citizen. We had our trade with -Spain and the French and with the Flemings before those mongrels were -pupped, Spanish ale in Galway, the winebark on the winedark waterway. -And will again, says Joe. -And with the help of the holy mother of God we will again, says the -citizen, clapping his thigh. our harbours that are empty will be full -again, Queenstown, Kinsale, Galway, Blacksod Bay, Ventry in the kingdom of -Kerry, Killybegs, the third largest harbour in the wide world with a fleet -of masts of the Galway Lynches and the Cavan O'Reillys and the -O'Kennedys of Dublin when the earl of Desmond could make a treaty with -the emperor Charles the Fifth himself. And will again, says he, when the -first Irish battleship is seen breasting the waves with our own flag to -the fore, none of your Henry Tudor's harps, no, the oldest flag afloat, -the flag of the province of Desmond and Thomond, three crowns on a blue -field, the three sons of Milesius. -And he took the last swig out of the pint. Moya. All wind and piss like -a tanyard cat. Cows in Connacht have long horns. As much as his bloody -life is worth to go down and address his tall talk to the assembled -multitude in Shanagolden where he daren't show his nose with the Molly -Maguires looking for him to let daylight through him for grabbing the -holding of an evicted tenant. -Hear, hear to that, says John Wyse. What will you have? -An imperial yeomanry, says Lenehan, to celebrate the occasion. -Half one, Terry, says John Wyse, and a hands up. Terry Are you asleep? -Yes, sir, says Terry. Small whisky and bottle of Allsop. Right, sir. -Hanging over the bloody paper with Alf looking for spicy bits instead -of attending to the general public. Picture of a butting match, trying to -crack their bloody skulls, one chap going for the other with his head down -like a bull at a gate. And another one BLACK BEAST BURNED IN OMAHA, GA. -A lot of Deadwood Dicks in slouch hats and they firing at a Sambo strung -up in a tree with his tongue out and a bonfire under him. Gob, they ought -to drown him in the sea after and electrocute and crucify him to make sure -of their job. -But what about the fighting navy, says Ned, that keeps our foes at bay? -I'll tell you what about it, says the citizen. Hell upon earth it is. -Read the revelations that's going on in the papers about flogging on the -training ships at Portsmouth. A fellow writes that calls himself DISGUSTED -ONE. -So he starts telling us about corporal punishment and about the crew -of tars and officers and rearadmirals drawn up in cocked hats and the -parson with his protestant bible to witness punishment and a young lad -brought out, howling for his ma, and they tie him down on the buttend of a -gun. -A rump and dozen, says the citizen, was what that old ruffian sir John -Beresford called it but the modern God's Englishman calls it caning on the -breech. -And says John Wyse -'Tis a custom more honoured in the breach than in the observance. -Then he was telling us the master at arms comes along with a long -cane and he draws out and he flogs the bloody backside off of the poor lad -till he yells meila murder. -That's your glorious British navy, says the citizen, that bosses the -earth. -The fellows that never will be slaves, with the only hereditary chamber on -the face of God's earth and their land in the hands of a dozen gamehogs -and cottonball barons. That's the great empire they boast about of drudges -and whipped serfs. -On which the sun never rises, says Joe. -And the tragedy of it is, says the citizen, they believe it. The -unfortunate yahoos believe it. -They believe in rod, the scourger almighty, creator of hell upon earth, -and in Jacky Tar, the son of a gun, who was conceived of unholy boast, -born of the fighting navy, suffered under rump and dozen, was scarified, -flayed and curried, yelled like bloody hell, the third day he arose again -from the bed, steered into haven, sitteth on his beamend till further -orders whence he shall come to drudge for a living and be paid. -But, says Bloom, isn't discipline the same everywhere. I mean wouldn't -it be the same here if you put force against force? -Didn't I tell you? As true as I'm drinking this porter if he was at his -last gasp he'd try to downface you that dying was living. -We'll put force against force, says the citizen. We have our greater -Ireland beyond the sea. They were driven out of house and home in the -black . Their mudcabins and their shielings by the roadside were laid -low by the batteringram and the TIMES rubbed its hands and told the -whitelivered Saxons there would soon be as few Irish in Ireland as -redskins in America. Even the Grand Turk sent us his piastres. But the -Sassenach tried to starve the nation at home while the land was full of -crops that the British hyenas bought and sold in Rio de Janeiro. Ay, they -drove out the peasants in hordes. Twenty thousand of them died in the -coffinships. But those that came to the land of the free remember the -land of bondage. And they will come again and with a vengeance, no -cravens, the sons of Granuaile, the champions of Kathleen ni Houlihan. -Perfectly true, says Bloom. But my point was ... -We are a long time waiting for that day, citizen, says Ned. Since the -poor old woman told us that the French were on the sea and landed at -Killala. -Ay, says John Wyse. We fought for the royal Stuarts that reneged us -against the Williamites and they betrayed us. Remember Limerick and the -broken treatystone. We gave our best blood to France and Spain, the wild -geese. Fontenoy, eh? And Sarsfield and O'Donnell, duke of Tetuan in -Spain, and Ulysses Browne of Camus that was fieldmarshal to Maria Teresa. -But what did we ever get for it? -The French says the citizen. Set of dancing masters Do you know what -it is? They were never worth a roasted fart to Ireland. Aren't they -trying to make an ENTENTE CORDIALE now at Tay Pay's dinnerparty with -perfidious Albion? Firebrands of Europe and they always were. -CONSPUEZ LES FRANCAIS, says Lenehan, nobbling his beer. -And as for the Prooshians and the Hanoverians, says Joe, haven't we had -enough of those sausageeating bastards on the throne from George the -elector down to the German lad and the flatulent old bitch that's dead? -Jesus, I had to laugh at the way he came out with that about the old one -with the winkers on her, blind drunk in her royal palace every night of -God, old Vic, with her jorum of mountain dew and her coachman carting her -up body and bones to roll into bed and she pulling him by the whiskers -and singing him old bits of songs about EHREN ON THE RHINE and come where -the boose is cheaper. -Well, says J. J. We have Edward the peacemaker now. -Tell that to a fool, says the citizen. There's a bloody sight more pox -than pax about that boyo. Edward GuelphWettin -And what do you think, says Joe, of the holy boys, the priests and -bishops of Ireland doing up his room in Maynooth in His Satanic Majesty's -racing colours and sticking up pictures of all the horses his jockeys -rode. The earl of Dublin, no less. -They ought to have stuck up all the women he rode himself, says little -Alf. -And says J. J. -Considerations of space influenced their lordships' decision. -Will you try another, citizen? says Joe. -Yes, sir, says he. I will. -You? says Joe. -Beholden to you, Joe, says I. May your shadow never grow less. -Repeat that dose, says Joe. -Bloom was talking and talking with John Wyse and he quite excited with -his dunducketymudcoloured mug on him and his old plumeyes rolling about. -Persecution, says he, all the history of the world is full of it. -Perpetuating national hatred among nations. -But do you know what a nation means? says John Wyse. -Yes, says Bloom. -What is it? says John Wyse. -A nation? says Bloom. A nation is the same people living in the same -place. -By God, then, says Ned, laughing, if that's so I'm a nation for I'm -living in the same place for the past five years. -So of course everyone had the laugh at Bloom and says he, trying to -muck out of it -Or also living in different places. -That covers my case, says Joe. -What is your nation if I may ask? says the citizen. -Ireland, says Bloom. I was born here. Ireland. -The citizen said nothing only cleared the spit out of his gullet and, -gob, he spat a Red bank oyster out of him right in the corner. -After you with the push, Joe, says he, taking out his handkerchief to -swab himself dry. -Here you are, citizen, says Joe. Take that in your right hand and repeat -after me the following words. -The muchtreasured and intricately embroidered ancient Irish -facecloth attributed to Solomon of Droma and Manus Tomaltach og -MacDonogh, authors of the Book of Ballymote, was then carefully -produced and called forth prolonged admiration. No need to dwell on the -legendary beauty of the cornerpieces, the acme of art, wherein one can -distinctly discern each of the four evangelists in turn presenting to each -of the four masters his evangelical symbol, a bogoak sceptre, a North -American puma a far nobler king of beasts than the British article, be it -said in passing, a Kerry calf and a golden eagle from Carrantuohill. The -scenes depicted on the emunctory field, showing our ancient duns and raths -and cromlechs and grianauns and seats of learning and maledictive stones, -are as wonderfully beautiful and the pigments as delicate as when the -Sligo illuminators gave free rein to their artistic fantasy long long ago -in the time of the Barmecides. Glendalough, the lovely lakes of Killarney, -the ruins of Clonmacnois, Cong Abbey, Glen Inagh and the Twelve Pins, -Ireland's Eye, the Green Hills of Tallaght, Croagh Patrick, the brewery of -Messrs Arthur Guinness, Son and Company Limited, Lough Neagh's banks, -the vale of Ovoca, Isolde's tower, the Mapas obelisk, Sir Patrick Dun's -hospital, Cape Clear, the glen of Aherlow, Lynch's castle, the Scotch -house, Rathdown Union Workhouse at Loughlinstown, Tullamore jail, -Castleconnel rapids, Kilballymacshonakill, the cross at Monasterboice, -Jury's Hotel, S. Patrick's Purgatory, the Salmon Leap, Maynooth college -refectory, Curley's hole, the three birthplaces of the first duke of -Wellington, the rock of Cashel, the bog of Allen, the Henry Street -Warehouse, Fingal's Caveall these moving scenes are still there for us -today rendered more beautiful still by the waters of sorrow which have -passed over them and by the rich incrustations of time. -Show us over the drink, says I. Which is which? -That's mine, says Joe, as the devil said to the dead policeman. -And I belong to a race too, says Bloom, that is hated and persecuted. -Also now. This very moment. This very instant. -Gob, he near burnt his fingers with the butt of his old cigar. -Robbed, says he. Plundered. Insulted. Persecuted. Taking what belongs -to us by right. At this very moment, says he, putting up his fist, sold by -auction in Morocco like slaves or cattle. -Are you talking about the new Jerusalem? says the citizen. -I'm talking about injustice, says Bloom. -Right, says John Wyse. Stand up to it then with force like men. -That's an almanac picture for you. Mark for a softnosed bullet. Old -lardyface standing up to the business end of a gun. Gob, he'd adorn a -sweepingbrush, so he would, if he only had a nurse's apron on him. And -then he collapses all of a sudden, twisting around all the opposite, as -limp as a wet rag. -But it's no use, says he. Force, hatred, history, all that. That's not -life for men and women, insult and hatred. And everybody knows that it's -the very opposite of that that is really life. -What? says Alf. -Love, says Bloom. I mean the opposite of hatred. I must go now, says he -to John Wyse. Just round to the court a moment to see if Martin is there. -If he comes just say I'll be back in a second. Just a moment. -Who's hindering you? And off he pops like greased lightning. -A new apostle to the gentiles, says the citizen. Universal love. -Well, says John Wyse. Isn't that what we're told. Love your neighbour. -That chap? says the citizen. Beggar my neighbour is his motto. Love, -moya He's a nice pattern of a Romeo and Juliet. -Love loves to love love. Nurse loves the new chemist. Constable A -loves Mary Kelly. Gerty MacDowell loves the boy that has the bicycle. -M. B. loves a fair gentleman. Li Chi Han lovey up kissy Cha Pu Chow. -Jumbo, the elephant, loves Alice, the elephant. Old Mr Verschoyle with the -ear trumpet loves old Mrs Verschoyle with the turnedin eye. The man in the -brown macintosh loves a lady who is dead. His Majesty the King loves Her -Majesty the Queen. Mrs Norman W. Tupper loves officer Taylor. You love -a certain person. And this person loves that other person because -everybody loves somebody but God loves everybody. -Well, Joe, says I, your very good health and song. More power, citizen. -Hurrah, there, says Joe. -The blessing of God and Mary and Patrick on you, says the citizen. -And he ups with his pint to wet his whistle. -We know those canters, says he, preaching and picking your pocket. -What about sanctimonious Cromwell and his ironsides that put the women -and children of Drogheda to the sword with the bible text GOD IS LOVE -pasted round the mouth of his cannon? The bible Did you read that skit in -the UNITED IRISHMAN today about that Zulu chief that's visiting England? -What's that? says Joe. -So the citizen takes up one of his paraphernalia papers and he starts -reading out -A delegation of the chief cotton magnates of Manchester was presented -yesterday to His Majesty the Alaki of Abeakuta by Gold Stick in Waiting, -Lord Walkup of Walkup on Eggs, to tender to His Majesty the heartfelt -thanks of British traders for the facilities afforded them in his -dominions. The delegation partook of luncheon at the conclusion -of which the dusky potentate, in the course of a happy speech, -freely translated by the British chaplain, the reverend Ananias -Praisegod Barebones, tendered his best thanks to Massa Walkup and -emphasised the cordial relations existing between Abeakuta and the -British empire, stating that he treasured as one of his dearest -possessions an illuminated bible, the volume of the word of God -and the secret of England's greatness, graciously presented to him by -the white chief woman, the great squaw Victoria, with a personal -dedication from the august hand of the Royal Donor. The Alaki then drank a -lovingcup of firstshot usquebaugh to the toast BLACK AND WHITE from the -skull of his immediate predecessor in the dynasty Kakachakachak, -surnamed Forty Warts, after which he visited the chief factory of -Cottonopolis and signed his mark in the visitors' book, subsequently -executing a charming old Abeakutic wardance, in the course of which he -swallowed several knives and forks, amid hilarious applause from the girl -hands. -Widow woman, says Ned. I wouldn't doubt her. Wonder did he put that -bible to the same use as I would. -Same only more so, says Lenehan. And thereafter in that fruitful land -the broadleaved mango flourished exceedingly. -Is that by Griffith? says John Wyse. -No, says the citizen. It's not signed Shanganagh. It's only -initialled P. -And a very good initial too, says Joe. -That's how it's worked, says the citizen. Trade follows the flag. -Well, says J. J., if they're any worse than those Belgians in the Congo -Free State they must be bad. Did you read that report by a man what's this -his name is? -Casement, says the citizen. He's an Irishman. -Yes, that's the man, says J. J. Raping the women and girls and flogging -the natives on the belly to squeeze all the red rubber they can out of -them. -I know where he's gone, says Lenehan, cracking his fingers. -Who? says I. -Bloom, says he. The courthouse is a blind. He had a few bob on -THROWAWAY and he's gone to gather in the shekels. -Is it that whiteeyed kaffir? says the citizen, that never backed a horse -in anger in his life? -That's where he's gone, says Lenehan. I met Bantam Lyons going to back -that horse only I put him off it and he told me Bloom gave him the tip. -Bet you what you like he has a hundred shillings to five on. He's the only -man in Dublin has it. A dark horse. -He's a bloody dark horse himself, says Joe. -Mind, Joe, says I. Show us the entrance out. -There you are, says Terry. -Goodbye Ireland I'm going to Gort. So I just went round the back of -the yard to pumpship and begob hundred shillings to five while I was -letting off my THROWAWAY twenty to letting off my load gob says I to -myself I knew he was uneasy in his two pints off of Joe and one in -Slattery's off in his mind to get off the mark to hundred shillings is -five quid and when they were in the dark horse pisser Burke -was telling me card party and letting on the child was sick gob, must -have done about a gallon flabbyarse of a wife speaking down the tube -SHE'S BETTER or SHE'S ow all a plan so he could vamoose with the -pool if he won or Jesus, full up I was trading without a licence ow -Ireland my nation says he hoik phthook never be up to those -bloody there's the last of it Jerusalem ah cuckoos. -So anyhow when I got back they were at it dingdong, John Wyse -saying it was Bloom gave the ideas for Sinn Fein to Griffith to put in his -paper all kinds of jerrymandering, packed juries and swindling the taxes -off of the government and appointing consuls all over the world to walk -about selling Irish industries. Robbing Peter to pay Paul. Gob, that puts -the bloody kybosh on it if old sloppy eyes is mucking up the show. Give us -a bloody chance. God save Ireland from the likes of that bloody -mouseabout. Mr Bloom with his argol bargol. And his old fellow before him -perpetrating frauds, old Methusalem Bloom, the robbing bagman, that -poisoned himself with the prussic acid after he swamping the country with -his baubles and his penny diamonds. Loans by post on easy terms. Any -amount of money advanced on note of hand. Distance no object. No security. -Gob, he's like Lanty MacHale's goat that'd go a piece of the road with -every one. -Well, it's a fact, says John Wyse. And there's the man now that'll tell -you all about it, Martin Cunningham. -Sure enough the castle car drove up with Martin on it and Jack Power -with him and a fellow named Crofter or Crofton, pensioner out of the -collector general's, an orangeman Blackburn does have on the registration -and he drawing his pay or Crawford gallivanting around the country at the -king's expense. -Our travellers reached the rustic hostelry and alighted from their -palfreys. -Ho, varlet cried he, who by his mien seemed the leader of the party. -Saucy knave To us -So saying he knocked loudly with his swordhilt upon the open lattice. -Mine host came forth at the summons, girding him with his tabard. -Give you good den, my masters, said he with an obsequious bow. -Bestir thyself, sirrah cried he who had knocked. Look to our steeds. -And for ourselves give us of your best for ifaith we need it. -Lackaday, good masters, said the host, my poor house has but a bare -larder. I know not what to offer your lordships. -How now, fellow? cried the second of the party, a man of pleasant -countenance, So servest thou the king's messengers, master Taptun? -An instantaneous change overspread the landlord's visage. -Cry you mercy, gentlemen, he said humbly. An you be the king's -messengers God shield His Majesty you shall not want for aught. The -king's friends God bless His Majesty shall not go afasting in my house -I warrant me. -Then about cried the traveller who had not spoken, a lusty trencherman -by his aspect. Hast aught to give us? -Mine host bowed again as he made answer -What say you, good masters, to a squab pigeon pasty, some collops of -venison, a saddle of veal, widgeon with crisp hog's bacon, a boar's head -with pistachios, a bason of jolly custard, a medlar tansy and a flagon of -old Rhenish? -Gadzooks cried the last speaker. That likes me well. Pistachios -Aha cried he of the pleasant countenance. A poor house and a bare -larder, quotha 'Tis a merry rogue. -So in comes Martin asking where was Bloom. -Where is he? says Lenehan. Defrauding widows and orphans. -Isn't that a fact, says John Wyse, what I was telling the citizen about -Bloom and the Sinn Fein? -That's so, says Martin. Or so they allege. -Who made those allegations? says Alf. -I, says Joe. I'm the alligator. -And after all, says John Wyse, why can't a jew love his country like the -next fellow? -Why not? says J. J., when he's quite sure which country it is. -Is he a jew or a gentile or a holy Roman or a swaddler or what the hell -is he? says Ned. Or who is he? No offence, Crofton. -Who is Junius? says J. J. -We don't want him, says Crofter the Orangeman or presbyterian. -He's a perverted jew, says Martin, from a place in Hungary and it was he -drew up all the plans according to the Hungarian system. We know that in -the castle. -Isn't he a cousin of Bloom the dentist? says Jack Power. -Not at all, says Martin. Only namesakes. His name was Virag, the -father's name that poisoned himself. He changed it by deedpoll, the father -did. -That's the new Messiah for Ireland says the citizen. Island of saints -and sages -Well, they're still waiting for their redeemer, says Martin. For that -matter so are we. -Yes, says J. J., and every male that's born they think it may be their -Messiah. And every jew is in a tall state of excitement, I believe, till -he knows if he's a father or a mother. -Expecting every moment will be his next, says Lenehan. -O, by God, says Ned, you should have seen Bloom before that son of his -that died was born. I met him one day in the south city markets buying a -tin of Neave's food six weeks before the wife was delivered. -EN VENTRE SA MERE, says J. J. -Do you call that a man? says the citizen. -I wonder did he ever put it out of sight, says Joe. -Well, there were two children born anyhow, says Jack Power. -And who does he suspect? says the citizen. -Gob, there's many a true word spoken in jest. One of those mixed -middlings he is. Lying up in the hotel Pisser was telling me once a month -with headache like a totty with her courses. Do you know what I'm telling -you? It'd be an act of God to take a hold of a fellow the like of that and -throw him in the bloody sea. Justifiable homicide, so it would. Then -sloping off with his five quid without putting up a pint of stuff like a -man. Give us your blessing. Not as much as would blind your eye. -Charity to the neighbour, says Martin. But where is he? We can't wait. -A wolf in sheep's clothing, says the citizen. That's what he is. Virag -from Hungary Ahasuerus I call him. Cursed by God. -Have you time for a brief libation, Martin? says Ned. -Only one, says Martin. We must be quick. J. J. and S. -You, Jack? Crofton? Three half ones, Terry. -Saint Patrick would want to land again at Ballykinlar and convert us, -says the citizen, after allowing things like that to contaminate our -shores. -Well, says Martin, rapping for his glass. God bless all here is my -prayer. -Amen, says the citizen. -And I'm sure He will, says Joe. -And at the sound of the sacring bell, headed by a crucifer with acolytes, -thurifers, boatbearers, readers, ostiarii, deacons and subdeacons, -the blessed company drew nigh of mitred abbots and priors and guardians -and monks and friars the monks of Benedict of Spoleto, Carthusians and -Camaldolesi, Cistercians and Olivetans, Oratorians and Vallombrosans, -and the friars of Augustine, Brigittines, Premonstratensians, Servi, -Trinitarians, and the children of Peter Nolasco and therewith from Carmel -mount the children of Elijah prophet led by Albert bishop and by Teresa of -Avila, calced and other and friars, brown and grey, sons of poor Francis, -capuchins, cordeliers, minimes and observants and the daughters of Clara -and the sons of Dominic, the friars preachers, and the sons of Vincent -and the monks of S. Wolstan and Ignatius his children and the -confraternity of the christian brothers led by the reverend brother -Edmund Ignatius Rice. And after came all saints and martyrs, -virgins and confessors S. Cyr and S. Isidore Arator and S. James the -Less and S. Phocas of Sinope and S. Julian Hospitator and S. Felix -de Cantalice and S. Simon Stylites and S. Stephen Protomartyr and -S. John of God and S. Ferreol and S. Leugarde and S. Theodotus and S. -Vulmar and S. Richard and S. Vincent de Paul and S. Martin of Todi -and S. Martin of Tours and S. Alfred and S. Joseph and S. -Denis and S. Cornelius and S. Leopold and S. Bernard and S. Terence and -S. Edward and S. Owen Caniculus and S. Anonymous and S. Eponymous -and S. Pseudonymous and S. Homonymous and S. Paronymous and S. -Synonymous and S. Laurence O'Toole and S. James of Dingle and -Compostella and S. Columcille and S. Columba and S. Celestine and S. -Colman and S. Kevin and S. Brendan and S. Frigidian and S. Senan and S. -Fachtna and S. Columbanus and S. Gall and S. Fursey and S. Fintan and S. -Fiacre and S. John Nepomuc and S. Thomas Aquinas and S. Ives of -Brittany and S. Michan and S. HermanJoseph and the three patrons of -holy youth S. Aloysius Gonzaga and S. Stanislaus Kostka and S. John -Berchmans and the saints Gervasius, Servasius and Bonifacius and S. Bride -and S. Kieran and S. Canice of Kilkenny and S. Jarlath of Tuam and S. -Finbarr and S. Pappin of Ballymun and Brother Aloysius Pacificus and -Brother Louis Bellicosus and the saints Rose of Lima and of Viterbo and S. -Martha of Bethany and S. Mary of Egypt and S. Lucy and S. Brigid and S. -Attracta and S. Dympna and S. Ita and S. Marion Calpensis and the -Blessed Sister Teresa of the Child Jesus and S. Barbara and S. Scholastica -and S. Ursula with eleven thousand virgins. And all came with nimbi and -aureoles and gloriae, bearing palms and harps and swords and olive -crowns, in robes whereon were woven the blessed symbols of their -efficacies, inkhorns, arrows, loaves, cruses, fetters, axes, trees, -bridges, babes in a bathtub, shells, wallets, shears, keys, dragons, -lilies, buckshot, beards, hogs, lamps, bellows, beehives, soupladles, -stars, snakes, anvils, boxes of vaseline, bells, crutches, forceps, -stags' horns, watertight boots, hawks, millstones, eyes on a dish, wax -candles, aspergills, unicorns. And as they wended their way by Nelson's -Pillar, Henry street, Mary street, Capel street, Little Britain street -chanting the introit in EPIPHANIA DOMINI which beginneth SURGE, -ILLUMINARE and thereafter most sweetly the gradual OMNES which saith -DE SABA VENIENT they did divers wonders such as casting out devils, -raising the dead to life, multiplying fishes, healing the halt and the -blind, discovering various articles which had been mislaid, interpreting -and fulfilling the scriptures, blessing and prophesying. And last, beneath -a canopy of cloth of gold came the reverend Father O'Flynn attended by -Malachi and Patrick. And when the good fathers had reached the appointed -place, the house of Bernard Kiernan and Co, limited, , and little -Britain street, wholesale grocers, wine and brandy shippers, licensed for -the sale of beer, wine and spirits for consumption on the premises, the -celebrant blessed the house and censed the mullioned windows and the -groynes and the vaults and the arrises and the capitals and the pediments -and the cornices and the engrailed arches and the spires and the cupolas -and sprinkled the lintels thereof with blessed water and prayed that God -might bless that house as he had blessed the house of Abraham and Isaac -and Jacob and make the angels of His light to inhabit therein. And -entering he blessed the viands and the beverages and the company of all -the blessed answered his prayers. -ADIUTORIUM NOSTRUM IN NOMINE DOMINI. -QUI FECIT COELUM ET TERRAM. -DOMINUS VOBISCUM. -ET CUM SPIRITU TUO. -And he laid his hands upon that he blessed and gave thanks and he -prayed and they all with him prayed -DEUS, CUIUS VERBO SANCTIFICANTUR OMNIA, BENEDICTIONEM TUAM EFFUNDE SUPER -CREATURAS ISTAS ET PRAESTA UT QUISQUIS EIS SECUNDUM LEGEM ET VOLUNTATEM -TUAM CUM GRATIARUM ACTIONE USUS FUERIT PER INVOCATIONEM SANCTISSIMI -NOMINIS TUI CORPORIS SANITATEM ET ANIMAE TUTELAM TE AUCTORE PERCIPIAT PER -CHRISTUM DOMINUM NOSTRUM. -And so say all of us, says Jack. -Thousand a year, Lambert, says Crofton or Crawford. -Right, says Ned, taking up his John Jameson. And butter for fish. -I was just looking around to see who the happy thought would strike -when be damned but in he comes again letting on to be in a hell of a -hurry. -I was just round at the courthouse, says he, looking for you. I hope I'm -not ... -No, says Martin, we're ready. -Courthouse my eye and your pockets hanging down with gold and silver. -Mean bloody scut. Stand us a drink itself. Devil a sweet fear There's -a jew for you All for number one. Cute as a shithouse rat. Hundred to -five. -Don't tell anyone, says the citizen, -Beg your pardon, says he. -Come on boys, says Martin, seeing it was looking blue. Come along now. -Don't tell anyone, says the citizen, letting a bawl out of him. It's a -secret. -And the bloody dog woke up and let a growl. -Bye bye all, says Martin. -And he got them out as quick as he could, Jack Power and Crofton or -whatever you call him and him in the middle of them letting on to be all -at sea and up with them on the bloody jaunting car. -Off with you, says -Martin to the jarvey. -The milkwhite dolphin tossed his mane and, rising in the golden poop -the helmsman spread the bellying sail upon the wind and stood off forward -with all sail set, the spinnaker to larboard. A many comely nymphs drew -nigh to starboard and to larboard and, clinging to the sides of the noble -bark, they linked their shining forms as doth the cunning wheelwright when -he fashions about the heart of his wheel the equidistant rays whereof each -one is sister to another and he binds them all with an outer ring and -giveth speed to the feet of men whenas they ride to a hosting or contend -for the smile of ladies fair. Even so did they come and set them, those -willing nymphs, the undying sisters. And they laughed, sporting in a -circle of their foam and the bark clave the waves. -But begob I was just lowering the heel of the pint when I saw the -citizen getting up to waddle to the door, puffing and blowing with the -dropsy, and he cursing the curse of Cromwell on him, bell, book and candle -in Irish, spitting and spatting out of him and Joe and little Alf round -him like a leprechaun trying to peacify him. -Let me alone, says he. -And begob he got as far as the door and they holding him and he -bawls out of him -Three cheers for Israel -Arrah, sit down on the parliamentary side of your arse for Christ' -sake and don't be making a public exhibition of yourself. Jesus, there's -always some bloody clown or other kicking up a bloody murder about -bloody nothing. Gob, it'd turn the porter sour in your guts, so it would. -And all the ragamuffins and sluts of the nation round the door and Martin -telling the jarvey to drive ahead and the citizen bawling and Alf and -Joe at him to whisht and he on his high horse about the jews and the -loafers calling for a speech and Jack Power trying to get him to sit down -on the car and hold his bloody jaw and a loafer with a patch over his eye -starts singing IF THE MAN IN THE MOON WAS A JEW, JEW, JEW and a slut -shouts out of her -Eh, mister Your fly is open, mister -And says he -Mendelssohn was a jew and Karl Marx and Mercadante and Spinoza. -And the Saviour was a jew and his father was a jew. Your God. -He had no father, says Martin. That'll do now. Drive ahead. -Whose God? says the citizen. -Well, his uncle was a jew, says he. Your God was a jew. Christ was a jew -like me. -Gob, the citizen made a plunge back into the shop. -By Jesus, says he, I'll brain that bloody jewman for using the holy -name. -By Jesus, I'll crucify him so I will. Give us that biscuitbox here. -Stop Stop says Joe. -A large and appreciative gathering of friends and acquaintances from -the metropolis and greater Dublin assembled in their thousands to bid -farewell to Nagyasagos uram Lipoti Virag, late of Messrs Alexander -Thom's, printers to His Majesty, on the occasion of his departure for the -distant clime of SzazharminczbrojugulyasDugulas Meadow of -Murmuring Waters. The ceremony which went off with great ECLAT was -characterised by the most affecting cordiality. An illuminated scroll of -ancient Irish vellum, the work of Irish artists, was presented to the -distinguished phenomenologist on behalf of a large section of the -community and was accompanied by the gift of a silver casket, tastefully -executed in the style of ancient Celtic ornament, a work which reflects -every credit on the makers, Messrs Jacob AGUS Jacob. The departing guest -was the recipient of a hearty ovation, many of those who were present -being visibly moved when the select orchestra of Irish pipes struck up the -wellknown strains of COME BACK TO ERIN, followed immediately by RAKOCZSY'S -MARCH. Tarbarrels and bonfires were lighted along the coastline of the four -seas on the summits of the Hill of Howth, Three Rock Mountain, Sugarloaf, -Bray Head, the mountains of Mourne, the Galtees, the Ox and Donegal and -Sperrin peaks, the Nagles and the Bograghs, the Connemara hills, the reeks -of M Gillicuddy, Slieve Aughty, Slieve Bernagh and Slieve Bloom. Amid -cheers that rent the welkin, responded to by answering cheers from a big -muster of henchmen on the distant Cambrian and Caledonian hills, the -mastodontic pleasureship slowly moved away saluted by a final floral -tribute from the representatives of the fair sex who were present in large -numbers while, as it proceeded down the river, escorted by a flotilla of -barges, the flags of the Ballast office and Custom House were dipped in -salute as were also those of the electrical power station at the -Pigeonhouse and the Poolbeg Light. VISSZONTLATASRA, KEDVES BARATON -VISSZONTLATASRA Gone but not forgotten. -Gob, the devil wouldn't stop him till he got hold of the bloody tin -anyhow and out with him and little Alf hanging on to his elbow and he -shouting like a stuck pig, as good as any bloody play in the Queen's royal -theatre -Where is he till I murder him? -And Ned and J. J. paralysed with the laughing. -Bloody wars, says I, I'll be in for the last gospel. -But as luck would have it the jarvey got the nag's head round the -other way and off with him. -Hold on, citizen, says Joe. Stop -Begob he drew his hand and made a swipe and let fly. Mercy of God the sun -was in his eyes or he'd have left him for dead. Gob, he near sent it -into the county Longford. The bloody nag took fright and the old mongrel -after the car like bloody hell and all the populace shouting and laughing -and the old tinbox clattering along the street. -The catastrophe was terrific and instantaneous in its effect. The -observatory of Dunsink registered in all eleven shocks, all of the fifth -grade of Mercalli's scale, and there is no record extant of a similar -seismic disturbance in our island since the earthquake of , the -year of the rebellion of Silken Thomas. The epicentre appears to have -been that part of the metropolis which constitutes the Inn's Quay -ward and parish of Saint Michan covering a surface of fortyone acres, -two roods and one square pole or perch. All the lordly residences in -the vicinity of the palace of justice were demolished and that noble -edifice itself, in which at the time of the catastrophe important -legal debates were in progress, is literally a mass of ruins beneath -which it is to be feared all the occupants have been buried alive. -From the reports of eyewitnesses it transpires that the seismic waves -were accompanied by a violent atmospheric perturbation of cyclonic -character. An article of headgear since ascertained to belong to the much -respected clerk of the crown and peace Mr George Fottrell and a silk -umbrella with gold handle with the engraved initials, crest, coat of arms -and house number of the erudite and worshipful chairman of quarter -sessions sir Frederick Falkiner, recorder of Dublin, have been discovered -by search parties in remote parts of the island respectively, the former -on the third basaltic ridge of the giant's causeway, the latter embedded -to the extent of one foot three inches in the sandy beach of Holeopen -bay near the old head of Kinsale. Other eyewitnesses depose that they -observed an incandescent object of enormous proportions hurtling through -the atmosphere at a terrifying velocity in a trajectory directed -southwest by west. Messages of condolence and sympathy are being -hourly received from all parts of the different continents and the -sovereign pontiff has been graciously pleased to decree that a -special MISSA PRO DEFUNCTIS shall be celebrated simultaneously by -the ordinaries of each and every cathedral church of all the episcopal -dioceses subject to the spiritual authority of the Holy See in suffrage of -the souls of those faithful departed who have been so unexpectedly called -away from our midst. The work of salvage, removal of DEBRIS, human remains -etc has been entrusted to Messrs Michael Meade and Son, Great -Brunswick street, and Messrs T. and C. Martin, , , and North -Wall, assisted by the men and officers of the Duke of Cornwall's light -infantry under the general supervision of H. R. H., rear admiral, the -right honourable sir Hercules Hannibal Habeas Corpus Anderson, K. G., -K. P., K. T., P. C., K. C. B., M. P, J. P., M. B., D. S. O., S. O. D., -M. F. H., M. R. I. A., B. L., Mus. Doc., P. L. G., F. T. C. D., -F. R. U. I., F. R. C. P. I. and F. R. C. S. I. -You never saw the like of it in all your born puff. Gob, if he got that -lottery ticket on the side of his poll he'd remember the gold cup, -he would so, but begob the citizen would have been lagged for assault -and battery and Joe for aiding and abetting. The jarvey saved his life -by furious driving as sure as God made Moses. What? O, Jesus, he did. -And he let a volley of oaths after him. -Did I kill him, says he, or what? -And he shouting to the bloody dog -After him, Garry After him, boy -And the last we saw was the bloody car rounding the corner and old -sheepsface on it gesticulating and the bloody mongrel after it with his -lugs back for all he was bloody well worth to tear him limb from limb. -Hundred to five Jesus, he took the value of it out of him, I promise you. -When, lo, there came about them all a great brightness and they -beheld the chariot wherein He stood ascend to heaven. And they beheld -Him in the chariot, clothed upon in the glory of the brightness, having -raiment as of the sun, fair as the moon and terrible that for awe they -durst not look upon Him. And there came a voice out of heaven, calling -ELIJAH ELIJAH And He answered with a main cry ABBA ADONAI And they -beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend -to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive degrees over -Donohoe's in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel. -The summer evening had begun to fold the world in its mysterious -embrace. Far away in the west the sun was setting and the last glow of all -too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the proud -promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters of the bay, on -the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, last but not least, on the -quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the stillness the -voice of prayer to her who is in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the -stormtossed heart of man, Mary, star of the sea. -The three girl friends were seated on the rocks, enjoying the evening -scene and the air which was fresh but not too chilly. Many a time and oft -were they wont to come there to that favourite nook to have a cosy chat -beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy Caffrey and -Edy Boardman with the baby in the pushcar and Tommy and Jacky -Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to -match and the name H.M.S. Belleisle printed on both. For Tommy and -Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and very noisy and spoiled -twins sometimes but for all that darling little fellows with bright merry -faces and endearing ways about them. They were dabbling in the sand with -their spades and buckets, building castles as children do, or playing with -their big coloured ball, happy as the day was long. And Edy Boardman was -rocking the chubby baby to and fro in the pushcar while that young -gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. He was but eleven months and nine -days old and, though still a tiny toddler, was just beginning to lisp his -first babyish words. Cissy Caffrey bent over to him to tease his fat -little plucks and the dainty dimple in his chin. -Now, baby, Cissy Caffrey said. Say out big, big. I want a drink of -water. -And baby prattled after her -A jink a jink a jawbo. -Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she was awfully fond of children, -so patient with little sufferers and Tommy Caffrey could never be got to -take his castor oil unless it was Cissy Caffrey that held his nose and -promised him the scatty heel of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup -on. What a persuasive power that girl had But to be sure baby Boardman -was as good as gold, a perfect little dote in his new fancy bib. None of -your spoilt beauties, Flora MacFlimsy sort, was Cissy Caffrey. -A truerhearted lass never drew the breath of life, always with a laugh in -her gipsylike eyes and a frolicsome word on her cherryripe red lips, a -girl lovable in the extreme. And Edy Boardman laughed too at the quaint -language of little brother. -But just then there was a slight altercation between Master Tommy -and Master Jacky. Boys will be boys and our two twins were no exception -to this golden rule. The apple of discord was a certain castle of sand -which Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy would have it right go wrong -that it was to be architecturally improved by a frontdoor like the -Martello tower had. But if Master Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky was -selfwilled too and, true to the maxim that every little Irishman's house -is his castle, he fell upon his hated rival and to such purpose that the -wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate the coveted castle -too. Needless to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy drew the -attention of the girl friends. -Come here, Tommy, his sister called imperatively. At once And you, -Jacky, for shame to throw poor Tommy in the dirty sand. Wait till I catch -you for that. -His eyes misty with unshed tears Master Tommy came at her call for -their big sister's word was law with the twins. And in a sad plight he was -too after his misadventure. His little mano'war top and unmentionables -were full of sand but Cissy was a past mistress in the art of smoothing -over life's tiny troubles and very quickly not one speck of sand was -to be seen on his smart little suit. Still the blue eyes were glistening -with hot tears that would well up so she kissed away the hurtness and -shook her hand at Master Jacky the culprit and said if she was near -him she wouldn't be far from him, her eyes dancing in admonition. -Nasty bold Jacky she cried. -She put an arm round the little mariner and coaxed winningly -What's your name? Butter and cream? -Tell us who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman. Is Cissy your -sweetheart? -Nao, tearful Tommy said. -Is Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Cissy queried. -Nao, Tommy said. -I know, Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from -her shortsighted eyes. I know who is Tommy's sweetheart. Gerty is -Tommy's sweetheart. -Nao, Tommy said on the verge of tears. -Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was amiss and she whispered -to Edy Boardman to take him there behind the pushcar where the -gentleman couldn't see and to mind he didn't wet his new tan shoes. -But who was Gerty? -Gerty MacDowell who was seated near her companions, lost in -thought, gazing far away into the distance was, in very truth, as fair a -specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see. She was -pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as folks often said, she -was more a Giltrap than a MacDowell. Her figure was slight and graceful, -inclining even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had been taking of -late had done her a world of good much better than the Widow Welch's -female pills and she was much better of those discharges she used to get -and that tired feeling. The waxen pallor of her face was almost spiritual -in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a genuine Cupid's -bow, Greekly perfect. Her hands were of finely veined alabaster -with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen of ointments -could make them though it was not true that she used to wear kid gloves -in bed or take a milk footbath either. Bertha Supple told that once -to Edy Boardman, a deliberate lie, when she was black out at daggers -drawn with Gerty the girl chums had of course their little tiffs -from time to time like the rest of mortals and she told her not to -let on whatever she did that it was her that told her or she'd never -speak to her again. No. Honour where honour is due. There was an -innate refinement, a languid queenly HAUTEUR about Gerty which -was unmistakably evidenced in her delicate hands and higharched instep. -Had kind fate but willed her to be born a gentlewoman of high degree in -her own right and had she only received the benefit of a good education -Gerty MacDowell might easily have held her own beside any lady in the -land and have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her brow and -patrician suitors at her feet vying with one another to pay their devoirs -to her. Mayhap it was this, the love that might have been, that lent to -her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look, tense with suppressed meaning, -that imparted a strange yearning tendency to the beautiful eyes, a charm -few could resist. Why have women such eyes of witchery? Gerty's were of -the bluest Irish blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive -brows. Time was when those brows were not so silkily seductive. It was -Madame Vera Verity, directress of the Woman Beautiful page of the Princess -Novelette, who had first advised her to try eyebrowleine which gave that -haunting expression to the eyes, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and -she had never regretted it. Then there was blushing scientifically cured -and how to be tall increase your height and you have a beautiful face but -your nose? That would suit Mrs Dignam because she had a button one. But -Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair. It was dark brown -with a natural wave in it. She had cut it that very morning on account -of the new moon and it nestled about her pretty head in a profusion of -luxuriant clusters and pared her nails too, Thursday for wealth. And just -now at Edy's words as a telltale flush, delicate as the faintest -rosebloom, crept into her cheeks she looked so lovely in her sweet girlish -shyness that of a surety God's fair land of Ireland did not hold -her equal. -For an instant she was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. She was -about to retort but something checked the words on her tongue. Inclination -prompted her to speak out dignity told her to be silent. The pretty lips -pouted awhile but then she glanced up and broke out into a joyous little -laugh which had in it all the freshness of a young May morning. She knew -right well, noone better, what made squinty Edy say that because of him -cooling in his attentions when it was simply a lovers' quarrel. As per -usual somebody's nose was out of joint about the boy that had the bicycle -off the London bridge road always riding up and down in front of her -window. Only now his father kept him in in the evenings studying -hard to get an exhibition in the intermediate that was on and he was -going to go to Trinity college to study for a doctor when he left -the high school like his brother W. E. Wylie who was racing in the -bicycle races in Trinity college university. Little recked he perhaps -for what she felt, that dull aching void in her heart sometimes, -piercing to the core. Yet he was young and perchance he might -learn to love her in time. They were protestants in his family -and of course Gerty knew Who came first and after Him the Blessed -Virgin and then Saint Joseph. But he was undeniably handsome with an -exquisite nose and he was what he looked, every inch a gentleman, the -shape of his head too at the back without his cap on that she would know -anywhere something off the common and the way he turned the bicycle at -the lamp with his hands off the bars and also the nice perfume of those -good cigarettes and besides they were both of a size too he and she and -that was why Edy Boardman thought she was so frightfully clever because -he didn't go and ride up and down in front of her bit of a garden. -Gerty was dressed simply but with the instinctive taste of a votary of -Dame Fashion for she felt that there was just a might that he might be -out. A neat blouse of electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it -was expected in the LADY'S PICTORIAL that electric blue would be worn -with a smart vee opening down to the division and kerchief pocket -in which she always kept a piece of cottonwool scented with her -favourite perfume because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a -navy threequarter skirt cut to the stride showed off her slim graceful -figure to perfection. She wore a coquettish little love of a hat of -wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue -chenille and at the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. All Tuesday -week afternoon she was hunting to match that chenille but at last -she found what she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the very it, slightly -shopsoiled but you would never notice, seven fingers two and a penny. She -did it up all by herself and what joy was hers when she tried it on then, -smiling at the lovely reflection which the mirror gave back to her -And when she put it on the waterjug to keep the shape she knew that that -would take the shine out of some people she knew. Her shoes were the -newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman prided herself that she was very -PETITE but she never had a foot like Gerty MacDowell, a five, and never -would ash, oak or elm with patent toecaps and just one smart buckle over -her higharched instep. Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect -proportions beneath her skirt and just the proper amount and no more of -her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide -garter tops. As for undies they were Gerty's chief care and who that knows -the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet seventeen though Gerty would -never see seventeen again can find it in his heart to blame her? She had -four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three garments and -nighties extra, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, -rosepink, pale blue, mauve and peagreen, and she aired them herself -and blued them when they came home from the wash and ironed them -and she had a brickbat to keep the iron on because she wouldn't trust -those washerwomen as far as she'd see them scorching the things. -She was wearing the blue for luck, hoping against hope, her own -colour and lucky too for a bride to have a bit of blue somewhere -on her because the green she wore that day week brought grief because -his father brought him in to study for the intermediate exhibition -and because she thought perhaps he might be out because when she was -dressing that morning she nearly slipped up the old pair on her inside out -and that was for luck and lovers' meeting if you put those things on -inside out or if they got untied that he was thinking about you so long -as it wasn't of a Friday. -And yet and yet That strained look on her face A gnawing sorrow is -there all the time. Her very soul is in her eyes and she would give worlds -to be in the privacy of her own familiar chamber where, giving way to -tears, she could have a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not -too much because she knew how to cry nicely before the mirror. You are -lovely, Gerty, it said. The paly light of evening falls upon a face -infinitely sad and wistful. Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. Yes, she had -known from the very first that her daydream of a marriage has been -arranged and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie T. C. D. -because the one who married the elder brother would be Mrs Wylie and in -the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous -confection of grey trimmed with expensive blue fox was not to be. He was -too young to understand. He would not believe in love, a woman's -birthright. The night of the party long ago in Stoer's he was still in -short trousers when they were alone and he stole an arm round her waist -she went white to the very lips. He called her little one in a strangely -husky voice and snatched a half kiss the first but it was only the end -of her nose and then he hastened from the room with a remark about -refreshments. Impetuous fellow Strength of character had never been Reggy -Wylie's strong point and he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell must be -a man among men. But waiting, always waiting to be asked and it was leap -year too and would soon be over. No prince charming is her beau ideal to -lay a rare and wondrous love at her feet but rather a manly man with a -strong quiet face who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly -flecked with grey, and who would understand, take her in his sheltering -arms, strain her to him in all the strength of his deep passionate nature -and comfort her with a long long kiss. It would be like heaven. For such -a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. With all the heart of her she -longs to be his only, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in sickness -in health, till death us two part, from this to this day forward. -And while Edy Boardman was with little Tommy behind the pushcar she was -just thinking would the day ever come when she could call herself his -little wife to be. Then they could talk about her till they went blue in -the face, Bertha Supple too, and Edy, little spitfire, because she would -be twentytwo in November. She would care for him with creature comforts -too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that -feeling of hominess. Her griddlecakes done to a goldenbrown hue and -queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from -all because she had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire, dredge in the -fine selfraising flour and always stir in the same direction, then cream -the milk and sugar and whisk well the white of eggs though she didn't like -the eating part when there were any people that made her shy and often she -wondered why you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and -they would have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and -engravings and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog -Garryowen that almost talked it was so human and chintz covers for the -chairs and that silver toastrack in Clery's summer jumble sales like they -have in rich houses. He would be tall with broad shoulders she had always -admired tall men for a husband with glistening white teeth under his -carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they would go on the continent -for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks and then, when they settled -down in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, every morning they -would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for their own two -selves and before he went out to business he would give his dear little -wifey a good hearty hug and gaze for a moment deep down into her eyes. -Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey was he done and he said yes so -then she buttoned up his little knickerbockers for him and told him to run -off and play with Jacky and to be good now and not to fight. But Tommy -said he wanted the ball and Edy told him no that baby was playing with the -ball and if he took it there'd be wigs on the green but Tommy said it was -his ball and he wanted his ball and he pranced on the ground, if you -please. The temper of him O, he was a man already was little Tommy -Caffrey since he was out of pinnies. Edy told him no, no and to be off now -with him and she told Cissy Caffrey not to give in to him. -You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said. It's my ball. -But Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman to look up, look up high at her -finger and she snatched the ball quickly and threw it along the sand and -Tommy after it in full career, having won the day. -Anything for a quiet life, laughed Ciss. -And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make him forget and played here's -the lord mayor, here's his two horses, here's his gingerbread carriage -and here he walks in, chinchopper, chinchopper, chinchopper chin. But Edy -got as cross as two sticks about him getting his own way like that from -everyone always petting him. -I'd like to give him something, she said, so I would, where I won't say. -On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. -Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and crimsoned at the idea of Cissy -saying an unladylike thing like that out loud she'd be ashamed of her -life to say, flushing a deep rosy red, and Edy Boardman said she was sure -the gentleman opposite heard what she said. But not a pin cared Ciss. -Let him she said with a pert toss of her head and a piquant tilt of her -nose. Give it to him too on the same place as quick as I'd look at him. -Madcap Ciss with her golliwog curls. You had to laugh at her -sometimes. For instance when she asked you would you have some more -Chinese tea and jaspberry ram and when she drew the jugs too and the men's -faces on her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she -wanted to go where you know she said she wanted to run and pay a visit to -the Miss White. That was just like Cissycums. O, and will you ever forget -her the evening she dressed up in her father's suit and hat and the burned -cork moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. -There was none to come up to her for fun. But she was sincerity itself, -one of the bravest and truest hearts heaven ever made, not one of your -twofaced things, too sweet to be wholesome. -And then there came out upon the air the sound of voices and the -pealing anthem of the organ. It was the men's temperance retreat conducted -by the missioner, the reverend John Hughes S. J., rosary, sermon and -benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament. They were there gathered -together without distinction of social class and a most edifying -spectacle it was to see in that simple fane beside the waves, -after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before the feet of -the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, -beseeching her to intercede for them, the old familiar words, -holy Mary, holy virgin of virgins. How sad to poor Gerty's ears -Had her father only avoided the clutches of the demon drink, by -taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's -Weekly, she might now be rolling in her carriage, second to none. Over and -over had she told herself that as she mused by the dying embers in a brown -study without the lamp because she hated two lights or oftentimes gazing -out of the window dreamily by the hour at the rain falling on the rusty -bucket, thinking. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many hearths -and homes had cist its shadow over her childhood days. Nay, she had even -witnessed in the home circle deeds of violence caused by intemperance and -had seen her own father, a prey to the fumes of intoxication, forget -himself completely for if there was one thing of all things that Gerty -knew it was that the man who lifts his hand to a woman save in the way of -kindness, deserves to be branded as the lowest of the low. -And still the voices sang in supplication to the Virgin most powerful, -Virgin most merciful. And Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her -companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman off -Sandymount green that Cissy Caffrey called the man that was so like -himself passing along the strand taking a short walk. You never saw him -any way screwed but still and for all that she would not like him for a -father because he was too old or something or on account of his face it -was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the pimples -on it and his sandy moustache a bit white under his nose. Poor father -With all his faults she loved him still when he sang TELL ME, MARY, HOW TO -WOO THEE or MY LOVE AND COTTAGE NEAR ROCHELLE and they had stewed cockles -and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he sang THE -MOON HATH RAISED with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God -have mercy on him, from a stroke. Her mother's birthday that was and -Charley was home on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and Mrs and -Patsy and Freddy Dignam and they were to have had a group taken. -Noone would have thought the end was so near. Now he was laid to rest. -And her mother said to him to let that be a warning to him for the rest of -his days and he couldn't even go to the funeral on account of the gout and -she had to go into town to bring him the letters and samples from his -office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a -palace, gives tiptop wear and always bright and cheery in the home. -A sterling good daughter was Gerty just like a second mother in the house, -a ministering angel too with a little heart worth its weight in gold. -And when her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was it -rubbed the menthol cone on her forehead but Gerty though she didn't like -her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that was the only single thing -they ever had words about, taking snuff. Everyone thought the world of her -for her gentle ways. It was Gerty who turned off the gas at the main every -night and it was Gerty who tacked up on the wall of that place where she -never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's -christmas almanac, the picture of halcyon days where a young gentleman in -the costume they used to wear then with a threecornered hat was offering a -bunch of flowers to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice -window. You could see there was a story behind it. The colours were done -something lovely. She was in a soft clinging white in a studied attitude -and the gentleman was in chocolate and he looked a thorough aristocrat. -She often looked at them dreamily when she went there for a certain -purpose and felt her own arms that were white and soft just like hers with -the sleeves back and thought about those times because she had found out -in Walker's pronouncing dictionary that belonged to grandpapa Giltrap -about the halcyon days what they meant. -The twins were now playing in the most approved brotherly fashion till at -last Master Jacky who was really as bold as brass there was no getting -behind that deliberately kicked the ball as hard as ever he could down -towards the seaweedy rocks. Needless to say poor Tommy was not slow to -voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman in black who was sitting there -by himself came gallantly to the rescue and intercepted the ball. Our two -champions claimed their plaything with lusty cries and to avoid trouble -Cissy Caffrey called to the gentleman to throw it to her please. The -gentleman aimed the ball once or twice and then threw it up the strand -towards Cissy Caffrey but it rolled down the slope and stopped right under -Gerty's skirt near the little pool by the rock. The twins clamoured again -for it and Cissy told her to kick it away and let them fight for it so -Gerty drew back her foot but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come -rolling down to her and she gave a kick but she missed and Edy and Cissy -laughed. -If you fail try again, Edy Boardman said. -Gerty smiled assent and bit her lip. A delicate pink crept into her -pretty cheek but she was determined to let them see so she just lifted her -skirt a little but just enough and took good aim and gave the ball a jolly -good kick and it went ever so far and the two twins after it down towards -the shingle. Pure jealousy of course it was nothing else to draw attention -on account of the gentleman opposite looking. She felt the warm flush, a -danger signal always with Gerty MacDowell, surging and flaming into her -cheeks. Till then they had only exchanged glances of the most casual but -now under the brim of her new hat she ventured a look at him and the face -that met her gaze there in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed -to her the saddest she had ever seen. -Through the open window of the church the fragrant incense was wafted and -with it the fragrant names of her who was conceived without stain of -original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for -us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, mystical rose. And careworn -hearts were there and toilers for their daily bread and many who had erred -and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for all that bright with -hope for the reverend father Father Hughes had told them what the great -saint Bernard said in his famous prayer of Mary, the most pious Virgin's -intercessory power that it was not recorded in any age that those who -implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her. -The twins were now playing again right merrily for the troubles of -childhood are but as fleeting summer showers. Cissy Caffrey played with -baby Boardman till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. Peep -she cried behind the hood of the pushcar and Edy asked where was Cissy -gone and then Cissy popped up her head and cried ah and, my word, -didn't the little chap enjoy that And then she told him to say papa. -Say papa, baby. Say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa. -And baby did his level best to say it for he was very intelligent for -eleven months everyone said and big for his age and the picture of health, -a perfect little bunch of love, and he would certainly turn out to be -something great, they said. -Haja ja ja haja. -Cissy wiped his little mouth with the dribbling bib and wanted him to sit -up properly and say pa pa pa but when she undid the strap she cried out, -holy saint Denis, that he was possing wet and to double the half blanket -the other way under him. Of course his infant majesty was most -obstreperous at such toilet formalities and he let everyone know it -Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. -And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. It was all no -use soothering him with no, nono, baby, no and telling him about the -geegee and where was the puffpuff but Ciss, always readywitted, gave him -in his mouth the teat of the suckingbottle and the young heathen was -quickly appeased. -Gerty wished to goodness they would take their squalling baby home out of -that and not get on her nerves, no hour to be out, and the little brats -of twins. She gazed out towards the distant sea. It was like the paintings -that man used to do on the pavement with all the coloured chalks and such -a pity too leaving them there to be all blotted out, the evening and the -clouds coming out and the Bailey light on Howth and to hear the music like -that and the perfume of those incense they burned in the church like a -kind of waft. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. Yes, it was her -he was looking at, and there was meaning in his look. His eyes burned into -her as though they would search her through and through, read her very -soul. Wonderful eyes they were, superbly expressive, but could you trust -them? People were so queer. She could see at once by his dark eyes and his -pale intellectual face that he was a foreigner, the image of the photo she -had of Martin Harvey, the matinee idol, only for the moustache which she -preferred because she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that -wanted they two to always dress the same on account of a play but she -could not see whether he had an aquiline nose or a slightly RETROUSSE from -where he was sitting. He was in deep mourning, she could see that, and the -story of a haunting sorrow was written on his face. She would have given -worlds to know what it was. He was looking up so intently, so still, and -he saw her kick the ball and perhaps he could see the bright steel buckles -of her shoes if she swung them like that thoughtfully with the toes down. -She was glad that something told her to put on the transparent stockings -thinking Reggy Wylie might be out but that was far away. Here was that of -which she had so often dreamed. It was he who mattered and there was joy -on her face because she wanted him because she felt instinctively that he -was like noone else. The very heart of the girlwoman went out to him, her -dreamhusband, because she knew on the instant it was him. If he had -suffered, more sinned against than sinning, or even, even, if he had been -himself a sinner, a wicked man, she cared not. Even if he was a protestant -or methodist she could convert him easily if he truly loved her. There -were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. She was a womanly woman -not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had known, those cyclists -showing off what they hadn't got and she just yearned to know all, to -forgive all if she could make him fall in love with her, make him forget -the memory of the past. Then mayhap he would embrace her gently, like a -real man, crushing her soft body to him, and love her, his ownest girlie, -for herself alone. -Refuge of sinners. Comfortress of the afflicted. ORA PRO NOBIS. Well -has it been said that whosoever prays to her with faith and constancy can -never be lost or cast away and fitly is she too a haven of refuge for the -afflicted because of the seven dolours which transpierced her own heart. -Gerty could picture the whole scene in the church, the stained glass -windows lighted up, the candles, the flowers and the blue banners of the -blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon at -the altar, carrying things in and out with his eyes cast down. He looked -almost a saint and his confessionbox was so quiet and clean and dark and -his hands were just like white wax and if ever she became a Dominican nun -in their white habit perhaps he might come to the convent for the novena -of Saint Dominic. He told her that time when she told him about that in -confession, crimsoning up to the roots of her hair for fear he could see, -not to be troubled because that was only the voice of nature and we were -all subject to nature's laws, he said, in this life and that that was no -sin because that came from the nature of woman instituted by God, he said, -and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to the archangel Gabriel be it done -unto me according to Thy Word. He was so kind and holy and often and often -she thought and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered -floral design for him as a present or a clock but they had a clock she -noticed on the mantelpiece white and gold with a canarybird that came out -of a little house to tell the time the day she went there about the -flowers for the forty hours' adoration because it was hard to know what -sort of a present to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of -Dublin or some place. -The exasperating little brats of twins began to quarrel again and Jacky -threw the ball out towards the sea and they both ran after it. Little -monkeys common as ditchwater. Someone ought to take them and give them -a good hiding for themselves to keep them in their places, the both of -them. And Cissy and Edy shouted after them to come back because they -were afraid the tide might come in on them and be drowned. -Jacky Tommy -Not they What a great notion they had So Cissy said it was the very -last time she'd ever bring them out. She jumped up and called them and she -ran down the slope past him, tossing her hair behind her which had a good -enough colour if there had been more of it but with all the thingamerry -she was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it to grow long because it -wasn't natural so she could just go and throw her hat at it. She ran -with long gandery strides it was a wonder she didn't rip up her skirt at -the side that was too tight on her because there was a lot of the tomboy -about Cissy Caffrey and she was a forward piece whenever she thought -she had a good opportunity to show and just because she was a good runner -she ran like that so that he could see all the end of her petticoat -running and her skinny shanks up as far as possible. It would have -served her just right if she had tripped up over something accidentally -on purpose with her high crooked French heels on her to make her look -tall and got a fine tumble. TABLEAU That would have been a very charming -expose for a gentleman like that to witness. -Queen of angels, queen of patriarchs, queen of prophets, of all saints, -they prayed, queen of the most holy rosary and then Father Conroy handed -the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon and he put in the incense and censed the -Blessed Sacrament and Cissy Caffrey caught the two twins and she was -itching to give them a ringing good clip on the ear but she didn't because -she thought he might be watching but she never made a bigger mistake in -all her life because Gerty could see without looking that he never -took his eyes off of her and then Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible -back to Father Conroy and knelt down looking up at the Blessed Sacrament -and the choir began to sing the TANTUM ERGO and she just swung her foot -in and out in time as the music rose and fell to the TANTUMER GOSA -CRAMEN TUM. Three and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's -of George's street on the Tuesday, no the Monday before Easter and there -wasn't a brack on them and that was what he was looking at, transparent, -and not at her insignificant ones that had neither shape nor form -the cheek of her because he had eyes in his head to see the difference -for himself. -Cissy came up along the strand with the two twins and their ball with -her hat anyhow on her to one side after her run and she did look a streel -tugging the two kids along with the flimsy blouse she bought only a -fortnight before like a rag on her back and a bit of her petticoat hanging -like a caricature. Gerty just took off her hat for a moment to settle her -hair and a prettier, a daintier head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on -a girl's shouldersa radiant little vision, in sooth, almost maddening in -its sweetness. You would have to travel many a long mile before you found -a head of hair the like of that. She could almost see the swift answering -flash of admiration in his eyes that set her tingling in every nerve. -She put on her hat so that she could see from underneath the brim and -swung her buckled shoe faster for her breath caught as she caught the -expression in his eyes. He was eying her as a snake eyes its prey. Her -woman's instinct told her that she had raised the devil in him and at the -thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely colour -of her face became a glorious rose. -Edy Boardman was noticing it too because she was squinting at Gerty, -half smiling, with her specs like an old maid, pretending to nurse the -baby. Irritable little gnat she was and always would be and that was why -noone could get on with her poking her nose into what was no concern of -hers. And she said to Gerty -A penny for your thoughts. -What? replied Gerty with a smile reinforced by the whitest of teeth. -I was only wondering was it late. -Because she wished to goodness they'd take the snottynosed twins and their -babby home to the mischief out of that so that was why she just gave a -gentle hint about its being late. And when Cissy came up Edy asked her the -time and Miss Cissy, as glib as you like, said it was half past kissing -time, time to kiss again. But Edy wanted to know because they were told to -be in early. -Wait, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time -by his conundrum. -So over she went and when he saw her coming she could see him take his -hand out of his pocket, getting nervous, and beginning to play with his -watchchain, looking up at the church. Passionate nature though he was -Gerty could see that he had enormous control over himself. One moment he -had been there, fascinated by a loveliness that made him gaze, and the -next moment it was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed -in every line of his distinguishedlooking figure. -Cissy said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was the -right time and Gerty could see him taking out his watch, listening to it -and looking up and clearing his throat and he said he was very sorry his -watch was stopped but he thought it must be after eight because the sun -was set. His voice had a cultured ring in it and though he spoke in -measured accents there was a suspicion of a quiver in the mellow tones. -Cissy said thanks and came back with her tongue out and said uncle said -his waterworks were out of order. -Then they sang the second verse of the TANTUM ERGO and Canon -O'Hanlon got up again and censed the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and -he told Father Conroy that one of the candles was just going to set fire -to the flowers and Father Conroy got up and settled it all right and she -could see the gentleman winding his watch and listening to the works and -she swung her leg more in and out in time. It was getting darker but he -could see and he was looking all the time that he was winding the watch or -whatever he was doing to it and then he put it back and put his hands back -into his pockets. She felt a kind of a sensation rushing all over her and -she knew by the feel of her scalp and that irritation against her stays -that that thing must be coming on because the last time too was when she -clipped her hair on account of the moon. His dark eyes fixed themselves -on her again drinking in her every contour, literally worshipping at her -shrine. If ever there was undisguised admiration in a man's passionate -gaze it was there plain to be seen on that man's face. It is for you, -Gertrude MacDowell, and you know it. -Edy began to get ready to go and it was high time for her and Gerty -noticed that that little hint she gave had had the desired effect because -it was a long way along the strand to where there was the place to push up -the pushcar and Cissy took off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to -make herself attractive of course and Canon O'Hanlon stood up with his -cope poking up at his neck and Father Conroy handed him the card to read -off and he read out PANEM DE COELO PRAESTITISTI EIS and Edy and Cissy were -talking about the time all the time and asking her but Gerty could pay -them back in their own coin and she just answered with scathing politeness -when Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her best boy throwing her -over. Gerty winced sharply. A brief cold blaze shone from her eyes that -spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. It hurtO yes, it cut deep because -Edy had her own quiet way of saying things like that she knew would wound -like the confounded little cat she was. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to -frame the word but she fought back the sob that rose to her throat, -so slim, so flawless, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist -might have dreamed of. She had loved him better than he knew. -Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his sex he would never -understand what he had meant to her and for an instant there was -in the blue eyes a quick stinging of tears. Their eyes were -probing her mercilessly but with a brave effort she sparkled back in -sympathy as she glanced at her new conquest for them to see. -O, responded Gerty, quick as lightning, laughing, and the proud head -flashed up. I can throw my cap at who I like because it's leap year. -Her words rang out crystalclear, more musical than the cooing of the -ringdove, but they cut the silence icily. There was that in her young -voice that told that she was not a one to be lightly trifled with. -As for Mr Reggy with his swank and his bit of money she could just -chuck him aside as if he was so much filth and never again would she -cast as much as a second thought on him and tear his silly postcard -into a dozen pieces. And if ever after he dared to presume she -could give him one look of measured scorn that would make him -shrivel up on the spot. Miss puny little Edy's countenance fell to -no slight extent and Gerty could see by her looking as black as -thunder that she was simply in a towering rage though she hid it, the -little kinnatt, because that shaft had struck home for her petty jealousy -and they both knew that she was something aloof, apart, in another sphere, -that she was not of them and never would be and there was somebody else -too that knew it and saw it so they could put that in their pipe -and smoke it. -Edy straightened up baby Boardman to get ready to go and Cissy -tucked in the ball and the spades and buckets and it was high time too -because the sandman was on his way for Master Boardman junior. And -Cissy told him too that billy winks was coming and that baby was to go -deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of his gleeful -eyes, and Cissy poked him like that out of fun in his wee fat tummy and -baby, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all -and sundry on to his brandnew dribbling bib. -O my Puddeny pie protested Ciss. He has his bib destroyed. -The slight CONTRETEMPS claimed her attention but in two twos she set -that little matter to rights. -Gerty stifled a smothered exclamation and gave a nervous cough and -Edy asked what and she was just going to tell her to catch it while it was -flying but she was ever ladylike in her deportment so she simply passed it -off with consummate tact by saying that that was the benediction because -just then the bell rang out from the steeple over the quiet seashore -because Canon O'Hanlon was up on the altar with the veil that Father -Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction with the Blessed -Sacrament in his hands. -How moving the scene there in the gathering twilight, the last glimpse of -Erin, the touching chime of those evening bells and at the same time a bat -flew forth from the ivied belfry through the dusk, hither, thither, with a -tiny lost cry. And she could see far away the lights of the lighthouses so -picturesque she would have loved to do with a box of paints because it was -easier than to make a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his -rounds past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady -Tritonville avenue where the couples walked and lighting the lamp near her -window where Reggy Wylie used to turn his freewheel like she read in that -book THE LAMPLIGHTER by Miss Cummins, author of MABEL VAUGHAN and -other tales. For Gerty had her dreams that noone knew of. She loved to -read poetry and when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple of that lovely -confession album with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts in she -laid it in the drawer of her toilettable which, though it did not err -on the side of luxury, was scrupulously neat and clean. It was there -she kept her girlish treasure trove, the tortoiseshell combs, her -child of Mary badge, the whiterose scent, the eyebrowleine, her -alabaster pouncetbox and the ribbons to change when her things came -home from the wash and there were some beautiful thoughts written -in it in violet ink that she bought in Hely's of Dame Street for -she felt that she too could write poetry if she could only express -herself like that poem that appealed to her so deeply that she had -copied out of the newspaper she found one evening round the potherbs. ART -THOU REAL, MY IDEAL? it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and -after there was something about TWILIGHT, WILT THOU EVER? and ofttimes -the beauty of poetry, so sad in its transient loveliness, had misted -her eyes with silent tears for she felt that the years were slipping -by for her, one by one, and but for that one shortcoming she knew she -need fear no competition and that was an accident coming down Dalkey -hill and she always tried to conceal it. But it must end, she felt. -If she saw that magic lure in his eyes there would be no holding -back for her. Love laughs at locksmiths. She would make the great -sacrifice. Her every effort would be to share his thoughts. Dearer than -the whole world would she be to him and gild his days with happiness. -There was the allimportant question and she was dying to know was he a -married man or a widower who had lost his wife or some tragedy like the -nobleman with the foreign name from the land of song had to have her put -into a madhouse, cruel only to be kind. But even ifwhat then? Would it -make a very great difference? From everything in the least indelicate her -finebred nature instinctively recoiled. She loathed that sort of person, -the fallen women off the accommodation walk beside the Dodder that went -with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a girl's honour, -degrading the sex and being taken up to the police station. No, no not -that. They would be just good friends like a big brother and sister -without all that other in spite of the conventions of Society with a big -ess. Perhaps it was an old flame he was in mourning for from the days -beyond recall. She thought she understood. She would try to understand -him because men were so different. The old love was waiting, waiting -with little white hands stretched out, with blue appealing eyes. Heart -of mine She would follow, her dream of love, the dictates of her heart -that told her he was her all in all, the only man in all the world -for her for love was the master guide. Nothing else mattered. Come what -might she would be wild, untrammelled, free. -Canon O'Hanlon put the Blessed Sacrament back into the tabernacle -and genuflected and the choir sang LAUDATE DOMINUM OMNES GENTES and -then he locked the tabernacle door because the benediction was over and -Father Conroy handed him his hat to put on and crosscat Edy asked wasn't -she coming but Jacky Caffrey called out -O, look, Cissy -And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy saw it too over -the trees beside the church, blue and then green and purple. -It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey said. -And they all ran down the strand to see over the houses and the -church, helterskelter, Edy with the pushcar with baby Boardman in it and -Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky by the hand so they wouldn't fall running. -Come on, Gerty, Cissy called. It's the bazaar fireworks. -But Gerty was adamant. She had no intention of being at their beck and -call. If they could run like rossies she could sit so she said she could -see from where she was. The eyes that were fastened upon her set -her pulses tingling. She looked at him a moment, meeting his glance, -and a light broke in upon her. Whitehot passion was in that face, passion -silent as the grave, and it had made her his. At last they were left -alone without the others to pry and pass remarks and she knew he -could be trusted to the death, steadfast, a sterling man, a man of -inflexible honour to his fingertips. His hands and face were working -and a tremour went over her. She leaned back far to look up where -the fireworks were and she caught her knee in her hands so as not -to fall back looking up and there was noone to see only him and -her when she revealed all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that, -supply soft and delicately rounded, and she seemed to hear the panting -of his heart, his hoarse breathing, because she knew too about the passion -of men like that, hotblooded, because Bertha Supple told her once in dead -secret and made her swear she'd never about the gentleman lodger that was -staying with them out of the Congested Districts Board that had pictures -cut out of papers of those skirtdancers and highkickers and she said he -used to do something not very nice that you could imagine sometimes in -the bed. But this was altogether different from a thing like that -because there was all the difference because she could almost feel -him draw her face to his and the first quick hot touch of his -handsome lips. Besides there was absolution so long as you didn't -do the other thing before being married and there ought to be -women priests that would understand without your telling out and -Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of dreamy look -in her eyes so that she too, my dear, and Winny Rippingham so mad -about actors' photographs and besides it was on account of that other -thing coming on the way it did. -And Jacky Caffrey shouted to look, there was another and she leaned back -and the garters were blue to match on account of the transparent and they -all saw it and they all shouted to look, look, there it was and she leaned -back ever so far to see the fireworks and something queer was flying -through the air, a soft thing, to and fro, dark. And she saw a long Roman -candle going up over the trees, up, up, and, in the tense hush, -they were all breathless with excitement as it went higher and higher -and she had to lean back more and more to look up after it, high, -high, almost out of sight, and her face was suffused with a divine, -an entrancing blush from straining back and he could see her other -things too, nainsook knickers, the fabric that caresses the skin, -better than those other pettiwidth, the green, four and eleven, -on account of being white and she let him and she saw that he saw and then -it went so high it went out of sight a moment and she was trembling in -every limb from being bent so far back that he had a full view -high up above her knee where noone ever not even on the swing or wading -and she wasn't ashamed and he wasn't either to look in that immodest way -like that because he couldn't resist the sight of the wondrous revealment -half offered like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen -looking and he kept on looking, looking. She would fain have cried to him -chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him to come, to feel his -lips laid on her white brow, the cry of a young girl's love, a little -strangled cry, wrung from her, that cry that has rung through the ages. -And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind blank and O then the Roman -candle burst and it was like a sigh of O and everyone cried O O in -raptures and it gushed out of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and -they shed and ah they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, -O so lovely, O, soft, sweet, soft -Then all melted away dewily in the grey air all was silent. Ah She -glanced at him as she bent forward quickly, a pathetic little glance of -piteous protest, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a girl -He was leaning back against the rock behind. Leopold Bloom for it is he -stands silent, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. What a -brute he had been At it again? A fair unsullied soul had called to him -and, wretch that he was, how had he answered? An utter cad he had been -He of all men But there was an infinite store of mercy in those eyes, -for him too a word of pardon even though he had erred and sinned and -wandered. Should a girl tell? No, a thousand times no. That was their -secret, only theirs, alone in the hiding twilight and there was none to -know or tell save the little bat that flew so softly through the evening -to and fro and little bats don't tell. -Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the football field to show -what a great person she was and then she cried -Gerty Gerty We're going. Come on. We can see from farther up. -Gerty had an idea, one of love's little ruses. She slipped a hand into -her kerchief pocket and took out the wadding and waved in reply of course -without letting him and then slipped it back. Wonder if he's too far to. -She rose. Was it goodbye? No. She had to go but they would meet again, -there, and she would dream of that till then, tomorrow, of her dream of -yester eve. She drew herself up to her full height. Their souls met in a -last lingering glance and the eyes that reached her heart, full of a -strange shining, hung enraptured on her sweet flowerlike face. She half -smiled at him wanly, a sweet forgiving smile, a smile that verged on -tears, and then they parted. -Slowly, without looking back she went down the uneven strand to -Cissy, to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey, to little baby Boardman. It was -darker now and there were stones and bits of wood on the strand and slippy -seaweed. She walked with a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her but -with care and very slowly becausebecause Gerty MacDowell was ... -Tight boots? No. She's lame O -Mr Bloom watched her as she limped away. Poor girl That's why she's left -on the shelf and the others did a sprint. Thought something was wrong by -the cut of her jib. Jilted beauty. A defect is ten times worse in a woman. -But makes them polite. Glad I didn't know it when she was on show. Hot -little devil all the same. I wouldn't mind. Curiosity like a nun or a -negress or a girl with glasses. That squinty one is delicate. Near her -monthlies, I expect, makes them feel ticklish. I have such a bad headache -today. Where did I put the letter? Yes, all right. All kinds of crazy -longings. Licking pennies. Girl in Tranquilla convent that nun told -me liked to smell rock oil. Virgins go mad in the end I suppose. -Sister? How many women in Dublin have it today? Martha, she. Something -in the air. That's the moon. But then why don't all women menstruate -at the same time with the same moon, I mean? Depends on the time -they were born I suppose. Or all start scratch then get out of step. -Sometimes Molly and Milly together. Anyhow I got the best of that. -Damned glad I didn't do it in the bath this morning over her silly -I will punish you letter. Made up for that tramdriver this morning. -That gouger M'Coy stopping me to say nothing. And his wife -engagement in the country valise, voice like a pickaxe. Thankful for small -mercies. Cheap too. Yours for the asking. Because they want it themselves. -Their natural craving. Shoals of them every evening poured out of offices. -Reserve better. Don't want it they throw it at you. Catch em alive, O. -Pity they can't see themselves. A dream of wellfilled hose. Where was -that? Ah, yes. Mutoscope pictures in Capel street for men only. Peeping -Tom. Willy's hat and what the girls did with it. Do they snapshot -those girls or is it all a fake? LINGERIE does it. Felt for the -curves inside her DESHABILLE. Excites them also when they're. I'm all -clean come and dirty me. And they like dressing one another for the -sacrifice. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. At first. -Put them all on to take them all off. Molly. Why I bought her the violet -garters. Us too the tie he wore, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. -He wore a pair of gaiters the night that first we met. His lovely -shirt was shining beneath his what? of jet. Say a woman loses a charm with -every pin she takes out. Pinned together. O, Mairy lost the pin of her. -Dressed up to the nines for somebody. Fashion part of their charm. Just -changes when you're on the track of the secret. Except the east Mary, -Martha now as then. No reasonable offer refused. She wasn't in a hurry -either. Always off to a fellow when they are. They never forget an -appointment. Out on spec probably. They believe in chance because like -themselves. And the others inclined to give her an odd dig. Girl friends -at school, arms round each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, -kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the convent garden. Nuns -with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their rosaries going up and down, -vindictive too for what they can't get. Barbed wire. Be sure now and write -to me. And I'll write to you. Now won't you? Molly and Josie Powell. Till -Mr Right comes along, then meet once in a blue moon. TABLEAU O, look -who it is for the love of God How are you at all? What have you been -doing with yourself? Kiss and delighted to, kiss, to see you. Picking -holes in each other's appearance. You're looking splendid. Sister souls. -Showing their teeth at one another. How many have you left? Wouldn't lend -each other a pinch of salt. -Ah -Devils they are when that's coming on them. Dark devilish appearance. -Molly often told me feel things a ton weight. Scratch the sole of -my foot. O that way O, that's exquisite Feel it myself too. Good to rest -once in a way. Wonder if it's bad to go with them then. Safe in one way. -Turns milk, makes fiddlestrings snap. Something about withering plants I -read in a garden. Besides they say if the flower withers she wears she's a -flirt. All are. Daresay she felt . When you feel like that you often meet -what you feel. Liked me or what? Dress they look at. Always know a fellow -courting collars and cuffs. Well cocks and lions do the same and stags. -Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. Trousers? Suppose I -when I was? No. Gently does it. Dislike rough and tumble. Kiss in the dark -and never tell. Saw something in me. Wonder what. Sooner have me as I am -than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his -dexter optic. To aid gentleman in literary. Ought to attend to my -appearance my age. Didn't let her see me in profile. Still, you -never know. Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Beauty and the -beast. Besides I can't be so if Molly. Took off her hat to show -her hair. Wide brim. Bought to hide her face, meeting someone might -know her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell. Hair -strong in rut. Ten bob I got for Molly's combings when we were on -the rocks in Holles street. Why not? Suppose he gave her money. -Why not? All a prejudice. She's worth ten, fifteen, more, a pound. What? I -think so. All that for nothing. Bold hand Mrs Marion. Did I forget to -write address on that letter like the postcard I sent to Flynn? And the -day I went to Drimmie's without a necktie. Wrangle with Molly it was put -me off. No, I remember. Richie Goulding he's another. Weighs on his mind. -Funny my watch stopped at half past four. Dust. Shark liver oil they use -to clean. Could do it myself. Save. Was that just when he, she? -O, he did. Into her. She did. Done. -Ah -Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. O Lord, that little -limping devil. Begins to feel cold and clammy. Aftereffect not pleasant. -Still you have to get rid of it someway. They don't care. Complimented -perhaps. Go home to nicey bread and milky and say night prayers with the -kiddies. Well, aren't they? See her as she is spoil all. Must have the -stage setting, the rouge, costume, position, music. The name too. AMOURS -of actresses. Nell Gwynn, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. Curtain up. -Moonlight silver effulgence. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. Little -sweetheart come and kiss me. Still, I feel. The strength it gives a man. -That's the secret of it. Good job I let off there behind the wall coming -out of Dignam's. Cider that was. Otherwise I couldn't have. Makes you want -to sing after. LACAUS ESANT TARATARA. Suppose I spoke to her. What about? -Bad plan however if you don't know how to end the conversation. Ask them a -question they ask you another. Good idea if you're stuck. Gain time. But -then you're in a cart. Wonderful of course if you say good evening, and -you see she's on for it good evening. O but the dark evening in the -Appian way I nearly spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was. Whew Girl in -Meath street that night. All the dirty things I made her say. All wrong of -course. My arks she called it. It's so hard to find one who. Aho If you -don't answer when they solicit must be horrible for them till they harden. -And kissed my hand when I gave her the extra two shillings. Parrots. Press -the button and the bird will squeak. Wish she hadn't called me sir. O, her -mouth in the dark And you a married man with a single girl That's what -they enjoy. Taking a man from another woman. Or even hear of it. -Different with me. Glad to get away from other chap's wife. Eating off his -cold plate. Chap in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. -French letter still in my pocketbook. Cause of half the trouble. But might -happen sometime, I don't think. Come in, all is prepared. I dreamt. What? -Worst is beginning. How they change the venue when it's not what they -like. Ask you do you like mushrooms because she once knew a gentleman -who. Or ask you what someone was going to say when he changed his -mind and stopped. Yet if I went the whole hog, say I want to, something -like that. Because I did. She too. Offend her. Then make it up. Pretend to -want something awfully, then cry off for her sake. Flatters them. She must -have been thinking of someone else all the time. What harm? Must since she -came to the use of reason, he, he and he. First kiss does the trick. The -propitious moment. Something inside them goes pop. Mushy like, tell by -their eye, on the sly. First thoughts are best. Remember that till their -dying day. Molly, lieutenant Mulvey that kissed her under the Moorish wall -beside the gardens. Fifteen she told me. But her breasts were developed. -Fell asleep then. After Glencree dinner that was when we drove home. -Featherbed mountain. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Lord mayor had his eye -on her too. Val Dillon. Apoplectic. -There she is with them down there for the fireworks. My fireworks. -Up like a rocket, down like a stick. And the children, twins they must be, -waiting for something to happen. Want to be grownups. Dressing in -mother's clothes. Time enough, understand all the ways of the world. And -the dark one with the mop head and the nigger mouth. I knew she could -whistle. Mouth made for that. Like Molly. Why that highclass whore in -Jammet's wore her veil only to her nose. Would you mind, please, telling -me the right time? I'll tell you the right time up a dark lane. Say prunes -and prisms forty times every morning, cure for fat lips. Caressing the -little boy too. Onlookers see most of the game. Of course they understand -birds, animals, babies. In their line. -Didn't look back when she was going down the strand. Wouldn't give that -satisfaction. Those girls, those girls, those lovely seaside girls. Fine -eyes she had, clear. It's the white of the eye brings that out not so much -the pupil. Did she know what I? Course. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's -jump. Women never meet one like that Wilkins in the high school drawing a -picture of Venus with all his belongings on show. Call that innocence? -Poor idiot His wife has her work cut out for her. Never see them sit -on a bench marked WET PAINT. Eyes all over them. Look under the bed -for what's not there. Longing to get the fright of their lives. -Sharp as needles they are. When I said to Molly the man at the corner -of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she might like, twigged at -once he had a false arm. Had, too. Where do they get that? Typist -going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a time to show her understandings. -Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I mean. Bred in the -bone. Milly for example drying her handkerchief on the mirror to -save the ironing. Best place for an ad to catch a woman's eye on a -mirror. And when I sent her for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's -by the way that ad I must, carrying home the change in her stocking -Clever little minx. I never told her. Neat way she carries parcels -too. Attract men, small thing like that. Holding up her hand, shaking it, -to let the blood flow back when it was red. Who did you learn that from? -Nobody. Something the nurse taught me. O, don't they know Three years -old she was in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard -street west. Me have a nice pace. Mullingar. Who knows? Ways of the -world. Young student. Straight on her pins anyway not like the other. -Still she was game. Lord, I am wet. Devil you are. Swell of her calf. -Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. Not like that frump -today. A. E. Rumpled stockings. Or the one in Grafton street. White. Wow -Beef to the heel. -A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. Zrads -and zrads, zrads, zrads. And Cissy and Tommy and Jacky ran out to see -and Edy after with the pushcar and then Gerty beyond the curve of the -rocks. Will she? Watch Watch See Looked round. She smelt an onion. -Darling, I saw, your. I saw all. -Lord -Did me good all the same. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. For -this relief much thanks. In HAMLET, that is. Lord It was all things -combined. Excitement. When she leaned back, felt an ache at the butt of my -tongue. Your head it simply swirls. He's right. Might have made a worse -fool of myself however. Instead of talking about nothing. Then I will tell -you all. Still it was a kind of language between us. It couldn't be? No, -Gerty they called her. Might be false name however like my name and the -address Dolphin's barn a blind. -HER MAIDEN NAME WAS JEMINA BROWN -AND SHE LIVED WITH HER MOTHER IN IRISHTOWN. -Place made me think of that I suppose. All tarred with the same brush. -Wiping pens in their stockings. But the ball rolled down to her as if it -understood. Every bullet has its billet. Course I never could throw -anything straight at school. Crooked as a ram's horn. Sad however because -it lasts only a few years till they settle down to potwalloping and papa's -pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the baby when they hold -him out to do ah ah. No soft job. Saves them. Keeps them out of harm's -way. Nature. Washing child, washing corpse. Dignam. Children's hands -always round them. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not even closed at first, -sour milk in their swaddles and tainted curds. Oughtn't to have given -that child an empty teat to suck. Fill it up with wind. Mrs Beaufoy, -Purefoy. Must call to the hospital. Wonder is nurse Callan there still. -She used to look over some nights when Molly was in the Coffee Palace. -That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. And Mrs Breen -and Mrs Dignam once like that too, marriageable. Worst of all at night -Mrs Duggan told me in the City Arms. Husband rolling in drunk, stink of -pub off him like a polecat. Have that in your nose in the dark, -whiff of stale boose. Then ask in the morning was I drunk last -night? Bad policy however to fault the husband. Chickens come -home to roost. They stick by one another like glue. Maybe the -women's fault also. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. It's the -blood of the south. Moorish. Also the form, the figure. Hands felt for the -opulent. Just compare for instance those others. Wife locked up at home, -skeleton in the cupboard. Allow me to introduce my. Then they trot you out -some kind of a nondescript, wouldn't know what to call her. Always see a -fellow's weak point in his wife. Still there's destiny in it, falling in -love. Have their own secrets between them. Chaps that would go to the dogs -if some woman didn't take them in hand. Then little chits of girls, -height of a shilling in coppers, with little hubbies. As God made them he -matched them. Sometimes children turn out well enough. Twice nought makes -one. Or old rich chap of seventy and blushing bride. Marry in May and -repent in December. This wet is very unpleasant. Stuck. Well the foreskin -is not back. Better detach. -Ow -Other hand a sixfooter with a wifey up to his watchpocket. Long and -the short of it. Big he and little she. Very strange about my watch. -Wristwatches are always going wrong. Wonder is there any magnetic -influence between the person because that was about the time he. Yes, I -suppose, at once. Cat's away, the mice will play. I remember looking in -Pill lane. Also that now is magnetism. Back of everything magnetism. Earth -for instance pulling this and being pulled. That causes movement. And -time, well that's the time the movement takes. Then if one thing stopped -the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Because it's all arranged. -Magnetic needle tells you what's going on in the sun, the stars. Little -piece of steel iron. When you hold out the fork. Come. Come. Tip. Woman -and man that is. Fork and steel. Molly, he. Dress up and look and suggest -and let you see and see more and defy you if you're a man to see that and, -like a sneeze coming, legs, look, look and if you have any guts in you. -Tip. Have to let fly. -Wonder how is she feeling in that region. Shame all put on before -third person. More put out about a hole in her stocking. Molly, her -underjaw stuck out, head back, about the farmer in the ridingboots and -spurs at the horse show. And when the painters were in Lombard street -west. Fine voice that fellow had. How Giuglini began. Smell that I did. -Like flowers. It was too. Violets. Came from the turpentine probably in -the paint. Make their own use of everything. Same time doing it scraped -her slipper on the floor so they wouldn't hear. But lots of them can't -kick the beam, I think. Keep that thing up for hours. Kind of a general -all round over me and half down my back. -Wait. Hm. Hm. Yes. That's her perfume. Why she waved her hand. I -leave you this to think of me when I'm far away on the pillow. What is it? -Heliotrope? No. Hyacinth? Hm. Roses, I think. She'd like scent of that -kind. Sweet and cheap soon sour. Why Molly likes opoponax. Suits her, -with a little jessamine mixed. Her high notes and her low notes. At the -dance night she met him, dance of the hours. Heat brought it out. She was -wearing her black and it had the perfume of the time before. Good -conductor, is it? Or bad? Light too. Suppose there's some connection. For -instance if you go into a cellar where it's dark. Mysterious thing too. -Why did I smell it only now? Took its time in coming like herself, slow -but sure. Suppose it's ever so many millions of tiny grains blown across. -Yes, it is. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning, smell -them leagues off. Tell you what it is. It's like a fine fine veil or web -they have all over the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer, and -they're always spinning it out of them, fine as anything, like rainbow -colours without knowing it. Clings to everything she takes off. Vamp of -her stockings. Warm shoe. Stays. Drawers little kick, taking them off. -Byby till next time. Also the cat likes to sniff in her shift on -the bed. Know her smell in a thousand. Bathwater too. Reminds me of -strawberries and cream. Wonder where it is really. There or the armpits -or under the neck. Because you get it out of all holes and corners. -Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something. Muskrat. -Bag under their tails. One grain pour off odour for years. Dogs at -each other behind. Good evening. Evening. How do you sniff? Hm. Hm. -Very well, thank you. Animals go by that. Yes now, look at it that way. -We're the same. Some women, instance, warn you off when they have their -period. Come near. Then get a hogo you could hang your hat on. Like -what? Potted herrings gone stale or. Boof Please keep off the grass. -Perhaps they get a man smell off us. What though? Cigary gloves long -John had on his desk the other day. Breath? What you eat and drink gives -that. No. Mansmell, I mean. Must be connected with that because priests -that are supposed to be are different. Women buzz round it like flies -round treacle. Railed off the altar get on to it at any cost. The tree -of forbidden priest. O, father, will you? Let me be the first to. -That diffuses itself all through the body, permeates. Source of life. -And it's extremely curious the smell. Celery sauce. Let me. -Mr Bloom inserted his nose. Hm. Into the. Hm. Opening of his -waistcoat. Almonds or. No. Lemons it is. Ah no, that's the soap. -O by the by that lotion. I knew there was something on my mind. -Never went back and the soap not paid. Dislike carrying bottles like that -hag this morning. Hynes might have paid me that three shillings. I could -mention Meagher's just to remind him. Still if he works that paragraph. -Two and nine. Bad opinion of me he'll have. Call tomorrow. How much do -I owe you? Three and nine? Two and nine, sir. Ah. Might stop him giving -credit another time. Lose your customers that way. Pubs do. Fellows run up -a bill on the slate and then slinking around the back streets into -somewhere else. -Here's this nobleman passed before. Blown in from the bay. Just went -as far as turn back. Always at home at dinnertime. Looks mangled out had -a good tuck in. Enjoying nature now. Grace after meals. After supper walk -a mile. Sure he has a small bank balance somewhere, government sit. Walk -after him now make him awkward like those newsboys me today. Still you -learn something. See ourselves as others see us. So long as women don't -mock what matter? That's the way to find out. Ask yourself who is he now. -THE MYSTERY MAN ON THE BEACH, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom. -Payment at the rate of one guinea per column. And that fellow today at the -graveside in the brown macintosh. Corns on his kismet however. Healthy -perhaps absorb all the. Whistle brings rain they say. Must be some -somewhere. Salt in the Ormond damp. The body feels the atmosphere. Old -Betty's joints are on the rack. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about -ships around they fly in the twinkling. No. Signs of rain it is. The royal -reader. And distant hills seem coming nigh. -Howth. Bailey light. Two, four, six, eight, nine. See. Has to change or -they might think it a house. Wreckers. Grace Darling. People afraid of the -dark. Also glowworms, cyclists lightingup time. Jewels diamonds flash -better. Women. Light is a kind of reassuring. Not going to hurt you. -Better now of course than long ago. Country roads. Run you through the -small guts for nothing. Still two types there are you bob against. -Scowl or smile. Pardon Not at all. Best time to spray plants too in the -shade after the sun. Some light still. Red rays are longest. Roygbiv -Vance taught us red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. -A star I see. Venus? Can't tell yet. Two. When three it's night. Were -those nightclouds there all the time? Looks like a phantom ship. No. -Wait. Trees are they? An optical illusion. Mirage. Land of the setting -sun this. Homerule sun setting in the southeast. My native land, -goodnight. -Dew falling. Bad for you, dear, to sit on that stone. Brings on white -fluxions. Never have little baby then less he was big strong fight his way -up through. Might get piles myself. Sticks too like a summer cold, sore on -the mouth. Cut with grass or paper worst. Friction of the position. -Like to be that rock she sat on. O sweet little, you don't know how nice -you looked. I begin to like them at that age. Green apples. Grab at all -that offer. Suppose it's the only time we cross legs, seated. Also the -library today those girl graduates. Happy chairs under them. But it's -the evening influence. They feel all that. Open like flowers, know -their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in ballrooms, chandeliers, -avenues under the lamps. Nightstock in Mat Dillon's garden where I kissed -her shoulder. Wish I had a full length oilpainting of her then. June -that was too I wooed. The year returns. History repeats itself. -Ye crags and peaks I'm with you once again. Life, love, voyage round -your own little world. And now? Sad about her lame of course but must -be on your guard not to feel too much pity. They take advantage. -All quiet on Howth now. The distant hills seem. Where we. The -rhododendrons. I am a fool perhaps. He gets the plums, and I the -plumstones. Where I come in. All that old hill has seen. Names change -that's all. Lovers yum yum. -Tired I feel now. Will I get up? O wait. Drained all the manhood out -of me, little wretch. She kissed me. Never again. My youth. Only once it -comes. Or hers. Take the train there tomorrow. No. Returning not the -same. Like kids your second visit to a house. The new I want. Nothing new -under the sun. Care of P. O. Dolphin's Barn. Are you not happy in your? -Naughty darling. At Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Mat -Dillon and his bevy of daughters Tiny, Atty, Floey, Maimy, Louy, Hetty. -Molly too. Eightyseven that was. Year before we. And the old major, -partial to his drop of spirits. Curious she an only child, I an only -child. So it returns. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest -way round is the shortest way home. And just when he and she. Circus horse -walking in a ring. Rip van Winkle we played. Rip tear in Henny Doyle's -overcoat. Van breadvan delivering. Winkle cockles and periwinkles. Then -I did Rip van Winkle coming back. She leaned on the sideboard watching. -Moorish eyes. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. All changed. -Forgotten. The young are old. His gun rusty from the dew. -Ba. What is that flying about? Swallow? Bat probably. Thinks I'm a tree, -so blind. Have birds no smell? Metempsychosis. They believed you could be -changed into a tree from grief. Weeping willow. Ba. There he goes. -Funny little beggar. Wonder where he lives. Belfry up there. Very likely. -Hanging by his heels in the odour of sanctity. Bell scared him out, I -suppose. Mass seems to be over. Could hear them all at it. Pray for us. -And pray for us. And pray for us. Good idea the repetition. Same -thing with ads. Buy from us. And buy from us. Yes, there's the light -in the priest's house. Their frugal meal. Remember about the mistake -in the valuation when I was in Thom's. Twentyeight it is. Two houses -they have. Gabriel Conroy's brother is curate. Ba. Again. Wonder why -they come out at night like mice. They're a mixed breed. Birds are -like hopping mice. What frightens them, light or noise? Better sit still. -All instinct like the bird in drouth got water out of the end of a -jar by throwing in pebbles. Like a little man in a cloak he is with tiny -hands. Weeny bones. Almost see them shimmering, kind of a bluey white. -Colours depend on the light you see. Stare the sun for example -like the eagle then look at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Wants to -stamp his trademark on everything. Instance, that cat this morning on the -staircase. Colour of brown turf. Say you never see them with three -colours. Not true. That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the CITY ARMS -with the letter em on her forehead. Body fifty different colours. Howth -a while ago amethyst. Glass flashing. That's how that wise man what's his -name with the burning glass. Then the heather goes on fire. It can't be -tourists' matches. What? Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the wind -and light. Or broken bottles in the furze act as a burning glass in the -sun. Archimedes. I have it My memory's not so bad. -Ba. Who knows what they're always flying for. Insects? That bee last week -got into the room playing with his shadow on the ceiling. Might be the -one bit me, come back to see. Birds too. Never find out. Or what they say. -Like our small talk. And says she and says he. Nerve they have to fly over -the ocean and back. Lots must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. -Dreadful life sailors have too. Big brutes of oceangoing steamers -floundering along in the dark, lowing out like seacows. FAUGH A BALLAGH -Out of that, bloody curse to you Others in vessels, bit of a handkerchief -sail, pitched about like snuff at a wake when the stormy winds do blow. -Married too. Sometimes away for years at the ends of the earth somewhere. -No ends really because it's round. Wife in every port they say. She has a -good job if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. If ever he -does. Smelling the tail end of ports. How can they like the sea? Yet they -do. The anchor's weighed. Off he sails with a scapular or a medal -on him for luck. Well. And the tephilim no what's this they call it poor -papa's father had on his door to touch. That brought us out of the land -of Egypt and into the house of bondage. Something in all those -superstitions because when you go out never know what dangers. Hanging -on to a plank or astride of a beam for grim life, lifebelt round him, -gulping salt water, and that's the last of his nibs till the sharks -catch hold of him. Do fish ever get seasick? -Then you have a beautiful calm without a cloud, smooth sea, placid, -crew and cargo in smithereens, Davy Jones' locker, moon looking down so -peaceful. Not my fault, old cockalorum. -A last lonely candle wandered up the sky from Mirus bazaar in search -of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke, drooping, and shed a cluster of -violet but one white stars. They floated, fell they faded. The shepherd's -hour the hour of folding hour of tryst. From house to house, giving his -everwelcome double knock, went the nine o'clock postman, the -glowworm's lamp at his belt gleaming here and there through the laurel -hedges. And among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at -Leahy's terrace. By screens of lighted windows, by equal gardens a shrill -voice went crying, wailing EVENING TELEGRAPH, STOP PRESS EDITION RESULT -OF THE GOLD CUP RACE and from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out -and called. Twittering the bat flew here, flew there. Far out over the -sands the coming surf crept, grey. Howth settled for slumber, tired of -long days, of yumyum rhododendrons he was old and felt gladly the night -breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns. He lay but opened a red eye -unsleeping, deep and slowly breathing, slumberous but awake. And far on -Kish bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom. -Life those chaps out there must have, stuck in the same spot. Irish -Lights board. Penance for their sins. Coastguards too. Rocket and breeches -buoy and lifeboat. Day we went out for the pleasure cruise in the Erin's -King, throwing them the sack of old papers. Bears in the zoo. Filthy trip. -Drunkards out to shake up their livers. Puking overboard to feed the -herrings. Nausea. And the women, fear of God in their faces. Milly, -no sign of funk. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. Don't know what death -is at that age. And then their stomachs clean. But being lost they fear. -When we hid behind the tree at Crumlin. I didn't want to. Mamma Mamma -Babes in the wood. Frightening them with masks too. Throwing them up -in the air to catch them. I'll murder you. Is it only half fun? -Or children playing battle. Whole earnest. How can people aim guns at -each other. Sometimes they go off. Poor kids Only troubles wildfire -and nettlerash. Calomel purge I got her for that. After getting better -asleep with Molly. Very same teeth she has. What do they love? -Another themselves? But the morning she chased her with the umbrella. -Perhaps so as not to hurt. I felt her pulse. Ticking. Little hand -it was now big. Dearest Papli. All that the hand says when you -touch. Loved to count my waistcoat buttons. Her first stays I -remember. Made me laugh to see. Little paps to begin with. Left one -is more sensitive, I think. Mine too. Nearer the heart? Padding -themselves out if fat is in fashion. Her growing pains at night, calling, -wakening me. Frightened she was when her nature came on her first. -Poor child Strange moment for the mother too. Brings back her girlhood. -Gibraltar. Looking from Buena Vista. O'Hara's tower. The seabirds -screaming. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his family. Sundown, -gunfire for the men to cross the lines. Looking out over the sea she -told me. Evening like this, but clear, no clouds. I always thought I'd -marry a lord or a rich gentleman coming with a private yacht. BUENAS -NOCHES, SENORITA. EL HOMBRE AMA LA MUCHACHA HERMOSA. Why me? Because -you were so foreign from the others. -Better not stick here all night like a limpet. This weather makes you -dull. Must be getting on for nine by the light. Go home. Too late for LEAH, -LILY OF KILLARNEY. No. Might be still up. Call to the hospital to see. -Hope she's over. Long day I've had. Martha, the bath, funeral, house of -Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. Then that bawler in -Barney Kiernan's. Got my own back there. Drunken ranters what I said about -his God made him wince. Mistake to hit back. Or? No. Ought to go home and -laugh at themselves. Always want to be swilling in company. Afraid to be -alone like a child of two. Suppose he hit me. Look at it other way round. -Not so bad then. Perhaps not to hurt he meant. Three cheers for Israel. -Three cheers for the sisterinlaw he hawked about, three fangs in her -mouth. Same style of beauty. Particularly nice old party for a cup of tea. -The sister of the wife of the wild man of Borneo has just come to town. -Imagine that in the early morning at close range. Everyone to his taste as -Morris said when he kissed the cow. But Dignam's put the boots on it. -Houses of mourning so depressing because you never know. Anyhow she -wants the money. Must call to those Scottish Widows as I promised. Strange -name. Takes it for granted we're going to pop off first. That widow -on Monday was it outside Cramer's that looked at me. Buried the poor -husband but progressing favourably on the premium. Her widow's mite. -Well? What do you expect her to do? Must wheedle her way along. -Widower I hate to see. Looks so forlorn. Poor man O'Connor wife and five -children poisoned by mussels here. The sewage. Hopeless. Some good -matronly woman in a porkpie hat to mother him. Take him in tow, platter -face and a large apron. Ladies' grey flannelette bloomers, three shillings -a pair, astonishing bargain. Plain and loved, loved for ever, they say. -Ugly no woman thinks she is. Love, lie and be handsome for tomorrow we -die. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out who played the -trick. U. p up. Fate that is. He, not me. Also a shop often noticed. -Curse seems to dog it. Dreamt last night? Wait. Something confused. She -had red slippers on. Turkish. Wore the breeches. Suppose she does? Would -I like her in pyjamas? Damned hard to answer. Nannetti's gone. Mailboat. -Near Holyhead by now. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Work Hynes and -Crawford. Petticoats for Molly. She has something to put in them. What's -that? Might be money. -Mr Bloom stooped and turned over a piece of paper on the strand. He -brought it near his eyes and peered. Letter? No. Can't read. Better go. -Better. I'm tired to move. Page of an old copybook. All those holes and -pebbles. Who could count them? Never know what you find. Bottle with -story of a treasure in it, thrown from a wreck. Parcels post. Children -always want to throw things in the sea. Trust? Bread cast on the waters. -What's this? Bit of stick. -O Exhausted that female has me. Not so young now. Will she come -here tomorrow? Wait for her somewhere for ever. Must come back. -Murderers do. Will I? -Mr Bloom with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his foot. Write -a message for her. Might remain. What? -I. -Some flatfoot tramp on it in the morning. Useless. Washed away. Tide comes -here. Saw a pool near her foot. Bend, see my face there, dark mirror, -breathe on it, stirs. All these rocks with lines and scars and letters. O, -those transparent Besides they don't know. What is the meaning of that -other world. I called you naughty boy because I do not like. -AM. A. -No room. Let it go. -Mr Bloom effaced the letters with his slow boot. Hopeless thing sand. -Nothing grows in it. All fades. No fear of big vessels coming up here. -Except Guinness's barges. Round the Kish in eighty days. Done half by -design. -He flung his wooden pen away. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. -Now if you were trying to do that for a week on end you couldn't. Chance. -We'll never meet again. But it was lovely. Goodbye, dear. Thanks. Made me -feel so young. -Short snooze now if I had. Must be near nine. Liverpool boat long -gone.. Not even the smoke. And she can do the other. Did too. And Belfast. -I won't go. Race there, race back to Ennis. Let him. Just close my eyes a -moment. Won't sleep, though. Half dream. It never comes the same. Bat -again. No harm in him. Just a few. -O sweety all your little girlwhite up I saw dirty bracegirdle made me -do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past the bed met -him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave -under embon SENORITA young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle -red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end -Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in -her next her next. -A bat flew. Here. There. Here. Far in the grey a bell chimed. Mr -Bloom with open mouth, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. -Just for a few -CUCKOO -CUCKOO -CUCKOO. -The clock on the mantelpiece in the priest's house cooed where Canon -O'Hanlon and Father Conroy and the reverend John Hughes S. J. were -taking tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup -and talking about -CUCKOO -CUCKOO -CUCKOO. -Because it was a little canarybird that came out of its little house to -tell the time that Gerty MacDowell noticed the time she was there because -she was as quick as anything about a thing like that, was Gerty MacDowell, -and she noticed at once that that foreign gentleman that was sitting on -the rocks looking was -CUCKOO -CUCKOO -CUCKOO. -Deshil Holles Eamus. Deshil Holles Eamus. Deshil Holles Eamus. -Send us bright one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Send -us bright one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Send us -bright one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. -Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa -Universally that person's acumen is esteemed very little perceptive -concerning whatsoever matters are being held as most profitably by mortals -with sapience endowed to be studied who is ignorant of that which the most -in doctrine erudite and certainly by reason of that in them high mind's -ornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general -consent they affirm that other circumstances being equal by no exterior -splendour is the prosperity of a nation more efficaciously asserted than -by the measure of how far forward may have progressed the tribute of its -solicitude for that proliferent continuance which of evils the original if -it be absent when fortunately present constitutes the certain sign of -omnipotent nature's incorrupted benefaction. For who is there who anything -of some significance has apprehended but is conscious that that exterior -splendour may be the surface of a downwardtending lutulent reality or on -the contrary anyone so is there unilluminated as not to perceive that as -no nature's boon can contend against the bounty of increase so it behoves -every most just citizen to become the exhortator and admonisher of his -semblables and to tremble lest what had in the past been by the nation -excellently commenced might be in the future not with similar excellence -accomplished if an inverecund habit shall have gradually traduced the -honourable by ancestors transmitted customs to that thither of profundity -that that one was audacious excessively who would have the hardihood to -rise affirming that no more odious offence can for anyone be than to -oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and -promise which on all mortals with prophecy of abundance or with -diminution's menace that exalted of reiteratedly procreating function ever -irrevocably enjoined? -It is not why therefore we shall wonder if, as the best historians relate, -among the Celts, who nothing that was not in its nature admirable admired, -the art of medicine shall have been highly honoured. Not to speak of -hostels, leperyards, sweating chambers, plaguegraves, their greatest -doctors, the O'Shiels, the O'Hickeys, the O'Lees, have sedulously set down -the divers methods by which the sick and the relapsed found again health -whether the malady had been the trembling withering or loose boyconnell -flux. Certainly in every public work which in it anything of gravity -contains preparation should be with importance commensurate and therefore -a plan was by them adopted whether by having preconsidered or as the -maturation of experience it is difficult in being said which the -discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not up to the present -congrued to render manifest whereby maternity was so far from all -accident possibility removed that whatever care the patient in that -all hardest of woman hour chiefly required and not solely for the -copiously opulent but also for her who not being sufficiently moneyed -scarcely and often not even scarcely could subsist valiantly and for an -inconsiderable emolument was provided. -To her nothing already then and thenceforward was anyway able to be -molestful for this chiefly felt all citizens except with proliferent -mothers prosperity at all not to can be and as they had received eternity -gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when the case was so -hoving itself, parturient in vehicle thereward carrying desire immense -among all one another was impelling on of her to be received into that -domicile. O thing of prudent nation not merely in being seen but also -even in being related worthy of being praised that they her by -anticipation went seeing mother, that she by them suddenly to be about to -be cherished had been begun she felt -Before born bliss babe had. Within womb won he worship. Whatever -in that one case done commodiously done was. A couch by midwives -attended with wholesome food reposeful, cleanest swaddles as though -forthbringing were now done and by wise foresight set but to this no less -of what drugs there is need and surgical implements which are pertaining -to her case not omitting aspect of all very distracting spectacles in -various latitudes by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, -divine and human, the cogitation of which by sejunct females is to -tumescence conducive or eases issue in the high sunbright wellbuilt fair -home of mothers when, ostensibly far gone and reproductitive, it is come -by her thereto to lie in, her term up. -Some man that wayfaring was stood by housedoor at night's -oncoming. Of Israel's folk was that man that on earth wandering far had -fared. Stark ruth of man his errand that him lone led till that house. -Of that house A. Horne is lord. Seventy beds keeps he there teeming -mothers are wont that they lie for to thole and bring forth bairns hale so -God's angel to Mary quoth. Watchers tway there walk, white sisters in -ward sleepless. Smarts they still, sickness soothing in twelve moons -thrice an hundred. Truest bedthanes they twain are, for Horne holding -wariest ward. -In ward wary the watcher hearing come that man mildhearted eft -rising with swire ywimpled to him her gate wide undid. Lo, levin leaping -lightens in eyeblink Ireland's westward welkin. Full she drad that God the -Wreaker all mankind would fordo with water for his evil sins. Christ's -rood made she on breastbone and him drew that he would rathe infare under -her thatch. That man her will wotting worthful went in Horne's house. -Loth to irk in Horne's hall hat holding the seeker stood. On her stow -he ere was living with dear wife and lovesome daughter that then over land -and seafloor nine years had long outwandered. Once her in townhithe -meeting he to her bow had not doffed. Her to forgive now he craved with -good ground of her allowed that that of him swiftseen face, hers, so young -then had looked. Light swift her eyes kindled, bloom of blushes his word -winning. -As her eyes then ongot his weeds swart therefor sorrow she feared. -Glad after she was that ere adread was. Her he asked if O'Hare Doctor -tidings sent from far coast and she with grameful sigh him answered that -O'Hare Doctor in heaven was. Sad was the man that word to hear that him -so heavied in bowels ruthful. All she there told him, ruing death for -friend so young, algate sore unwilling God's rightwiseness to withsay. She -said that he had a fair sweet death through God His goodness with -masspriest to be shriven, holy housel and sick men's oil to his limbs. The -man then right earnest asked the nun of which death the dead man was died -and the nun answered him and said that he was died in Mona Island through -bellycrab three year agone come Childermas and she prayed to God the -Allruthful to have his dear soul in his undeathliness. He heard her sad -words, in held hat sad staring. So stood they there both awhile in wanhope -sorrowing one with other. -Therefore, everyman, look to that last end that is thy death and the -dust that gripeth on every man that is born of woman for as he came naked -forth from his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at the last for to -go as he came. -The man that was come in to the house then spoke to the -nursingwoman and he asked her how it fared with the woman that lay there -in childbed. The nursingwoman answered him and said that that woman -was in throes now full three days and that it would be a hard birth unneth -to bear but that now in a little it would be. She said thereto that she -had seen many births of women but never was none so hard as was that -woman's birth. Then she set it all forth to him for because she knew the -man that time was had lived nigh that house. The man hearkened to her -words for he felt with wonder women's woe in the travail that they have of -motherhood and he wondered to look on her face that was a fair face for -any man to see but yet was she left after long years a handmaid. Nine -twelve bloodflows chiding her childless. -And whiles they spake the door of the castle was opened and there -nighed them a mickle noise as of many that sat there at meat. And there -came against the place as they stood a young learningknight yclept Dixon. -And the traveller Leopold was couth to him sithen it had happed that they -had had ado each with other in the house of misericord where this -learningknight lay by cause the traveller Leopold came there to be healed -for he was sore wounded in his breast by a spear wherewith a horrible and -dreadful dragon was smitten him for which he did do make a salve of -volatile salt and chrism as much as he might suffice. And he said now that -he should go in to that castle for to make merry with them that were -there. And the traveller Leopold said that he should go otherwhither for -he was a man of cautels and a subtile. Also the lady was of his avis and -repreved the learningknight though she trowed well that the traveller had -said thing that was false for his subtility. But the learningknight would -not hear say nay nor do her mandement ne have him in aught contrarious to -his list and he said how it was a marvellous castle. And the traveller -Leopold went into the castle for to rest him for a space being sore of -limb after many marches environing in divers lands and sometime venery. -And in the castle was set a board that was of the birchwood of -Finlandy and it was upheld by four dwarfmen of that country but they -durst not move more for enchantment. And on this board were frightful -swords and knives that are made in a great cavern by swinking demons out -of white flames that they fix then in the horns of buffalos and stags that -there abound marvellously. And there were vessels that are wrought by -magic of Mahound out of seasand and the air by a warlock with his breath -that he blases in to them like to bubbles. And full fair cheer and rich -was on the board that no wight could devise a fuller ne richer. And there -was a vat of silver that was moved by craft to open in the which lay -strange fishes withouten heads though misbelieving men nie that this -be possible thing without they see it natheless they are so. And these -fishes lie in an oily water brought there from Portugal land because -of the fatness that therein is like to the juices of the olivepress. -And also it was a marvel to see in that castle how by magic they make -a compost out of fecund wheatkidneys out of Chaldee that by aid of -certain angry spirits that they do in to it swells up wondrously like -to a vast mountain. And they teach the serpents there to entwine -themselves up on long sticks out of the ground and of the scales of -these serpents they brew out a brewage like to mead. -And the learning knight let pour for childe Leopold a draught and halp -thereto the while all they that were there drank every each. And childe -Leopold did up his beaver for to pleasure him and took apertly somewhat in -amity for he never drank no manner of mead which he then put by and -anon full privily he voided the more part in his neighbour glass and his -neighbour nist not of this wile. And he sat down in that castle with them -for to rest him there awhile. Thanked be Almighty God. -This meanwhile this good sister stood by the door and begged them at -the reverence of Jesu our alther liege Lord to leave their wassailing for -there was above one quick with child, a gentle dame, whose time hied fast. -Sir Leopold heard on the upfloor cry on high and he wondered what cry that -it was whether of child or woman and I marvel, said he, that it be not -come or now. Meseems it dureth overlong. And he was ware and saw a -franklin that hight Lenehan on that side the table that was older than any -of the tother and for that they both were knights virtuous in the one -emprise and eke by cause that he was elder he spoke to him full gently. -But, said he, or it be long too she will bring forth by God His bounty and -have joy of her childing for she hath waited marvellous long. And the -franklin that had drunken said, Expecting each moment to be her next. -Also he took the cup that stood tofore him for him needed never none -asking nor desiring of him to drink and, Now drink, said he, fully -delectably, and he quaffed as far as he might to their both's health -for he was a passing good man of his lustiness. And sir Leopold -that was the goodliest guest that ever sat in scholars' hall and -that was the meekest man and the kindest that ever laid husbandly -hand under hen and that was the very truest knight of the world -one that ever did minion service to lady gentle pledged him courtly in -the cup. Woman's woe with wonder pondering. -Now let us speak of that fellowship that was there to the intent to be -drunken an they might. There was a sort of scholars along either side the -board, that is to wit, Dixon yclept junior of saint Mary Merciable's with -other his fellows Lynch and Madden, scholars of medicine, and the franklin -that hight Lenehan and one from Alba Longa, one Crotthers, and young -Stephen that had mien of a frere that was at head of the board and -Costello that men clepen Punch Costello all long of a mastery of him -erewhile gested and of all them, reserved young Stephen, he was the most -drunken that demanded still of more mead and beside the meek sir -Leopold. But on young Malachi they waited for that he promised to -have come and such as intended to no goodness said how he had broke -his avow. And sir Leopold sat with them for he bore fast friendship -to sir Simon and to this his son young Stephen and for that his languor -becalmed him there after longest wanderings insomuch as they feasted -him for that time in the honourablest manner. Ruth red him, love led -on with will to wander, loth to leave. -For they were right witty scholars. And he heard their aresouns each gen -other as touching birth and righteousness, young Madden maintaining that -put such case it were hard the wife to die for so it had fallen out a -matter of some year agone with a woman of Eblana in Horne's house that -now was trespassed out of this world and the self night next before her -death all leeches and pothecaries had taken counsel of her case. And -they said farther she should live because in the beginning, they said, -the woman should bring forth in pain and wherefore they that were of this -imagination affirmed how young Madden had said truth for he had -conscience to let her die. And not few and of these was young Lynch were -in doubt that the world was now right evil governed as it was never other -howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the law nor his judges -did provide no remedy. A redress God grant. This was scant said but all -cried with one acclaim nay, by our Virgin Mother, the wife should live -and the babe to die. In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that head what -with argument and what for their drinking but the franklin Lenehan was -prompt each when to pour them ale so that at the least way mirth might -not lack. Then young Madden showed all the whole affair and said how that -she was dead and how for holy religion sake by rede of palmer and -bedesman and for a vow he had made to Saint Ultan of Arbraccan her -goodman husband would not let her death whereby they were all wondrous -grieved. To whom young Stephen had these words following Murmur, sirs, -is eke oft among lay folk. Both babe and parent now glorify their Maker, -the one in limbo gloom, the other in purgefire. But, gramercy, what of -those Godpossibled souls that we nightly impossibilise, which is the sin -against the Holy Ghost, Very God, Lord and Giver of Life? For, sirs, he -said, our lust is brief. We are means to those small creatures within us -and nature has other ends than we. Then said Dixon junior to Punch -Costello wist he what ends. But he had overmuch drunken and the best word -he could have of him was that he would ever dishonest a woman whoso she -were or wife or maid or leman if it so fortuned him to be delivered of -his spleen of lustihead. Whereat Crotthers of Alba Longa sang young -Malachi's praise of that beast the unicorn how once in the millennium he -cometh by his horn, the other all this while, pricked forward with their -jibes wherewith they did malice him, witnessing all and several by saint -Foutinus his engines that he was able to do any manner of thing that lay -in man to do. Thereat laughed they all right jocundly only young Stephen -and sir Leopold which never durst laugh too open by reason of a strange -humour which he would not bewray and also for that he rued for her that -bare whoso she might be or wheresoever. Then spake young Stephen orgulous -of mother Church that would cast him out of her bosom, of law of canons, -of Lilith, patron of abortions, of bigness wrought by wind of seeds of -brightness or by potency of vampires mouth to mouth or, as Virgilius -saith, by the influence of the occident or by the reek of moonflower or -an she lie with a woman which her man has but lain with, EFFECTU SECUTO, -or peradventure in her bath according to the opinions of Averroes and -Moses Maimonides. He said also how at the end of the second month a human -soul was infused and how in all our holy mother foldeth ever souls for -God's greater glory whereas that earthly mother which was but a dam to -bear beastly should die by canon for so saith he that holdeth the -fisherman's seal, even that blessed Peter on which rock was holy church -for all ages founded. All they bachelors then asked of sir Leopold would -he in like case so jeopard her person as risk life to save life. A -wariness of mind he would answer as fitted all and, laying hand to jaw, -he said dissembling, as his wont was, that as it was informed him, who -had ever loved the art of physic as might a layman, and agreeing also -with his experience of so seldomseen an accident it was good for that -mother Church belike at one blow had birth and death pence and in such -sort deliverly he scaped their questions. That is truth, pardy, said -Dixon, and, or I err, a pregnant word. Which hearing young Stephen was a -marvellous glad man and he averred that he who stealeth from the poor -lendeth to the Lord for he was of a wild manner when he was drunken and -that he was now in that taking it appeared eftsoons. -But sir Leopold was passing grave maugre his word by cause he still had -pity of the terrorcausing shrieking of shrill women in their labour and -as he was minded of his good lady Marion that had borne him an only -manchild which on his eleventh day on live had died and no man of art -could save so dark is destiny. And she was wondrous stricken of heart for -that evil hap and for his burial did him on a fair corselet of lamb's -wool, the flower of the flock, lest he might perish utterly and lie -akeled for it was then about the midst of the winter and now Sir -Leopold that had of his body no manchild for an heir looked upon him his -friend's son and was shut up in sorrow for his forepassed happiness and -as sad as he was that him failed a son of such gentle courage for all -accounted him of real parts so grieved he also in no less measure for -young Stephen for that he lived riotously with those wastrels and -murdered his goods with whores. -About that present time young Stephen filled all cups that stood empty so -as there remained but little mo if the prudenter had not shadowed their -approach from him that still plied it very busily who, praying for the -intentions of the sovereign pontiff, he gave them for a pledge the vicar -of Christ which also as he said is vicar of Bray. Now drink we, quod he, -of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which is not indeed parcel of my -body but my soul's bodiment. Leave ye fraction of bread to them that live -by bread alone. Be not afeard neither for any want for this will comfort -more than the other will dismay. See ye here. And he showed them -glistering coins of the tribute and goldsmith notes the worth of two -pound nineteen shilling that he had, he said, for a song which he writ. -They all admired to see the foresaid riches in such dearth of money as -was herebefore. His words were then these as followeth Know all men, he -said, time's ruins build eternity's mansions. What means this? Desire's -wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a -rose upon the rood of time. Mark me now. In woman's womb word is made -flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the -word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. OMNIS CARO AD TE -VENIET. No question but her name is puissant who aventried the dear corse -of our Agenbuyer, Healer and Herd, our mighty mother and mother most -venerable and Bernardus saith aptly that She hath an OMNIPOTENTIAM -DEIPARAE SUPPLICEM, that is to wit, an almightiness of petition because -she is the second Eve and she won us, saith Augustine too, whereas that -other, our grandam, which we are linked up with by successive anastomosis -of navelcords sold us all, seed, breed and generation, for a penny -pippin. But here is the matter now. Or she knew him, that second I say, -and was but creature of her creature, VERGINE MADRE, FIGLIA DI TUO -FIGLIO, or she knew him not and then stands she in the one denial or -ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the house that Jack built and -with Joseph the joiner patron of the happy demise of all unhappy -marriages, PARCEQUE M. LEO TAXIL NOUS A DIT QUE QUI L'AVAIT MISE DANS -CETTE FICHUE POSITION C'ETAIT LE SACRE PIGEON, VENTRE DE DIEU ENTWEDER -transubstantiality ODER consubstantiality but in no case -subsubstantiality. And all cried out upon it for a very scurvy word. A -pregnancy without joy, he said, a birth without pangs, a body without -blemish, a belly without bigness. Let the lewd with faith and fervour -worship. With will will we withstand, withsay. -Hereupon Punch Costello dinged with his fist upon the board and would -sing a bawdy catch STABOO STABELLA about a wench that was put in pod of a -jolly swashbuckler in Almany which he did straightways now attack THE -FIRST THREE MONTHS SHE WAS NOT WELL, STABOO, when here nurse Quigley from -the door angerly bid them hist ye should shame you nor was it not meet as -she remembered them being her mind was to have all orderly against lord -Andrew came for because she was jealous that no gasteful turmoil might -shorten the honour of her guard. It was an ancient and a sad matron of a -sedate look and christian walking, in habit dun beseeming her megrims and -wrinkled visage, nor did her hortative want of it effect for -incontinently Punch Costello was of them all embraided and they reclaimed -the churl with civil rudeness some and shaked him with menace of -blandishments others whiles they all chode with him, a murrain seize the -dolt, what a devil he would be at, thou chuff, thou puny, thou got in -peasestraw, thou losel, thou chitterling, thou spawn of a rebel, thou -dykedropt, thou abortion thou, to shut up his drunken drool out of that -like a curse of God ape, the good sir Leopold that had for his cognisance -the flower of quiet, margerain gentle, advising also the time's occasion -as most sacred and most worthy to be most sacred. In Horne's house rest -should reign. -To be short this passage was scarce by when Master Dixon of Mary in -Eccles, goodly grinning, asked young Stephen what was the reason why he -had not cided to take friar's vows and he answered him obedience in the -womb, chastity in the tomb but involuntary poverty all his days. Master -Lenehan at this made return that he had heard of those nefarious deeds -and how, as he heard hereof counted, he had besmirched the lily virtue of -a confiding female which was corruption of minors and they all -intershowed it too, waxing merry and toasting to his fathership. But he -said very entirely it was clean contrary to their suppose for he was the -eternal son and ever virgin. Thereat mirth grew in them the more and they -rehearsed to him his curious rite of wedlock for the disrobing and -deflowering of spouses, as the priests use in Madagascar island, she to -be in guise of white and saffron, her groom in white and grain, with -burning of nard and tapers, on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and -the anthem UT NOVETUR SEXUS OMNIS CORPORIS MYSTERIUM till she was there -unmaided. He gave them then a much admirable hymen minim by those -delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Francis Beaumont that is -in their MAID'S TRAGEDY that was writ for a like twining of lovers TO -BED, TO BED was the burden of it to be played with accompanable concent -upon the virginals. An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most mollificative -suadency for juveniles amatory whom the odoriferous flambeaus of the -paranymphs have escorted to the quadrupedal proscenium of connubial -communion. Well met they were, said Master Dixon, joyed, but, harkee, -young sir, better were they named Beau Mount and Lecher for, by my troth, -of such a mingling much might come. Young Stephen said indeed to his best -remembrance they had but the one doxy between them and she of the stews -to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very high in those -days and the custom of the country approved with it. Greater love than -this, he said, no man hath that a man lay down his wife for his friend. -Go thou and do likewise. Thus, or words to that effect, saith -Zarathustra, sometime regius professor of French letters to the -university of Oxtail nor breathed there ever that man to whom mankind was -more beholden. Bring a stranger within thy tower it will go hard but thou -wilt have the secondbest bed. ORATE, FRATRES, PRO MEMETIPSO. And all the -people shall say, Amen. Remember, Erin, thy generations and thy days of -old, how thou settedst little by me and by my word and broughtedst in a -stranger to my gates to commit fornication in my sight and to wax fat and -kick like Jeshurum. Therefore hast thou sinned against my light and hast -made me, thy lord, to be the slave of servants. Return, return, Clan -Milly forget me not, O Milesian. Why hast thou done this abomination -before me that thou didst spurn me for a merchant of jalaps and didst -deny me to the Roman and to the Indian of dark speech with whom thy -daughters did lie luxuriously? Look forth now, my people, upon the land -of behest, even from Horeb and from Nebo and from Pisgah and from the -Horns of Hatten unto a land flowing with milk and money. But thou hast -suckled me with a bitter milk my moon and my sun thou hast quenched for -ever. And thou hast left me alone for ever in the dark ways of my -bitterness and with a kiss of ashes hast thou kissed my mouth. This -tenebrosity of the interior, he proceeded to say, hath not been illumined -by the wit of the septuagint nor so much as mentioned for the Orient from -on high Which brake hell's gates visited a darkness that was foraneous. -Assuefaction minorates atrocities as Tully saith of his darling Stoics -and Hamlet his father showeth the prince no blister of combustion. The -adiaphane in the noon of life is an Egypt's plague which in the nights of -prenativity and postmortemity is their most proper UBI and QUOMODO. And -as the ends and ultimates of all things accord in some mean and measure -with their inceptions and originals, that same multiplicit concordance -which leads forth growth from birth accomplishing by a retrogressive -metamorphosis that minishing and ablation towards the final which is -agreeable unto nature so is it with our subsolar being. The aged sisters -draw us into life we wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, -die over us dead they bend. First, saved from waters of old Nile, among -bulrushes, a bed of fasciated wattles at last the cavity of a mountain, -an occulted sepulchre amid the conclamation of the hillcat and the -ossifrage. And as no man knows the ubicity of his tumulus nor to what -processes we shall thereby be ushered nor whether to Tophet or to -Edenville in the like way is all hidden when we would backward see from -what region of remoteness the whatness of our whoness hath fetched his -whenceness. -Thereto Punch Costello roared out mainly ETIENNE CHANSON but he loudly -bid them, lo, wisdom hath built herself a house, this vast majestic -longstablished vault, the crystal palace of the Creator, all in applepie -order, a penny for him who finds the pea. -BEHOLD THE MANSION REARED BY DEDAL JACK -SEE THE MALT STORED IN MANY A REFLUENT SACK, -IN THE PROUD CIRQUE OF JACKJOHN'S BIVOUAC. -A black crack of noise in the street here, alack, bawled back. Loud on -left Thor thundered in anger awful the hammerhurler. Came now the storm -that hist his heart. And Master Lynch bade him have a care to flout and -witwanton as the god self was angered for his hellprate and paganry. And -he that had erst challenged to be so doughty waxed wan as they might all -mark and shrank together and his pitch that was before so haught uplift -was now of a sudden quite plucked down and his heart shook within the -cage of his breast as he tasted the rumour of that storm. Then did some -mock and some jeer and Punch Costello fell hard again to his yale which -Master Lenehan vowed he would do after and he was indeed but a word and a -blow on any the least colour. But the braggart boaster cried that an old -Nobodaddy was in his cups it was muchwhat indifferent and he would not -lag behind his lead. But this was only to dye his desperation as cowed he -crouched in Horne's hall. He drank indeed at one draught to pluck up a -heart of any grace for it thundered long rumblingly over all the heavens -so that Master Madden, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on his -ribs upon that crack of doom and Master Bloom, at the braggart's side, -spoke to him calming words to slumber his great fear, advertising how it -was no other thing but a hubbub noise that he heard, the discharge of -fluid from the thunderhead, look you, having taken place, and all of the -order of a natural phenomenon. -But was young Boasthard's fear vanquished by Calmer's words? No, for he -had in his bosom a spike named Bitterness which could not by words be -done away. And was he then neither calm like the one nor godly like the -other? He was neither as much as he would have liked to be either. But -could he not have endeavoured to have found again as in his youth the -bottle Holiness that then he lived withal? Indeed no for Grace was not -there to find that bottle. Heard he then in that clap the voice of the -god Bringforth or, what Calmer said, a hubbub of Phenomenon? Heard? Why, -he could not but hear unless he had plugged him up the tube Understanding -which he had not done. For through that tube he saw that he was in the -land of Phenomenon where he must for a certain one day die as he was like -the rest too a passing show. And would he not accept to die like the rest -and pass away? By no means would he though he must nor would he make more -shows according as men do with wives which Phenomenon has commanded them -to do by the book Law. Then wotted he nought of that other land which is -called BelieveonMe, that is the land of promise which behoves to the -king Delightful and shall be for ever where there is no death and no -birth neither wiving nor mothering at which all shall come as many as -believe on it? Yes, Pious had told him of that land and Chaste had -pointed him to the way but the reason was that in the way he fell in with -a certain whore of an eyepleasing exterior whose name, she said, is Bird -intheHand and she beguiled him wrongways from the true path by her -flatteries that she said to him as, Ho, you pretty man, turn aside hither -and I will show you a brave place, and she lay at him so flatteringly -that she had him in her grot which is named TwointheBush or, by some -learned, Carnal Concupiscence. -This was it what all that company that sat there at commons in Manse of -Mothers the most lusted after and if they met with this whore Birdin -theHand which was within all foul plagues, monsters and a wicked devil -they would strain the last but they would make at her and know her. For -regarding BelieveonMe they said it was nought else but notion and they -could conceive no thought of it for, first, TwointheBush whither she -ticed them was the very goodliest grot and in it were four pillows on -which were four tickets with these words printed on them, Pickaback and -Topsyturvy and Shameface and Cheek by Jowl and, second, for that foul -plague Allpox and the monsters they cared not for them for Preservative -had given them a stout shield of oxengut and, third, that they might take -no hurt neither from Offspring that was that wicked devil by virtue of -this same shield which was named Killchild. So were they all in their -blind fancy, Mr Cavil and Mr Sometimes Godly, Mr Ape Swillale, Mr False -Franklin, Mr Dainty Dixon, Young Boasthard and Mr Cautious Calmer. -Wherein, O wretched company, were ye all deceived for that was the voice -of the god that was in a very grievous rage that he would presently lift -his arm up and spill their souls for their abuses and their spillings -done by them contrariwise to his word which forth to bring brenningly -biddeth. -So Thursday sixteenth June Patk. Dignam laid in clay of an apoplexy and -after hard drought, please God, rained, a bargeman coming in by water a -fifty mile or thereabout with turf saying the seed won't sprout, fields -athirst, very sadcoloured and stunk mightily, the quags and tofts too. -Hard to breathe and all the young quicks clean consumed without sprinkle -this long while back as no man remembered to be without. The rosy buds -all gone brown and spread out blobs and on the hills nought but dry flag -and faggots that would catch at first fire. All the world saying, for -aught they knew, the big wind of last February a year that did havoc the -land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. But by and by, as -said, this evening after sundown, the wind sitting in the west, biggish -swollen clouds to be seen as the night increased and the weatherwise -poring up at them and some sheet lightnings at first and after, past ten -of the clock, one great stroke with a long thunder and in a brace of -shakes all scamper pellmell within door for the smoking shower, the men -making shelter for their straws with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk -skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as the pour came. In Ely place, -Baggot street, Duke's lawn, thence through Merrion green up to Holles -street a swash of water flowing that was before bonedry and not one chair -or coach or fiacre seen about but no more crack after that first. Over -against the Rt. Hon. Mr Justice Fitzgibbon's door that is to sit with Mr -Healy the lawyer upon the college lands Mal. Mulligan a gentleman's -gentleman that had but come from Mr Moore's the writer's that was a -papish but is now, folk say, a good Williamite chanced against Alec. -Bannon in a cut bob which are now in with dance cloaks of Kendal green -that was new got to town from Mullingar with the stage where his coz and -Mal M's brother will stay a month yet till Saint Swithin and asks what in -the earth he does there, he bound home and he to Andrew Horne's being -stayed for to crush a cup of wine, so he said, but would tell him of a -skittish heifer, big of her age and beef to the heel, and all this while -poured with rain and so both together on to Horne's. There Leop. Bloom of -Crawford's journal sitting snug with a covey of wags, likely brangling -fellows, Dixon jun., scholar of my lady of Mercy's, Vin. Lynch, a Scots -fellow, Will. Madden, T. Lenehan, very sad about a racer he fancied and -Stephen D. Leop. Bloom there for a languor he had but was now better, be -having dreamed tonight a strange fancy of his dame Mrs Moll with red -slippers on in a pair of Turkey trunks which is thought by those in ken -to be for a change and Mistress Purefoy there, that got in through -pleading her belly, and now on the stools, poor body, two days past her -term, the midwives sore put to it and can't deliver, she queasy for a -bowl of riceslop that is a shrewd drier up of the insides and her breath -very heavy more than good and should be a bullyboy from the knocks, they -say, but God give her soon issue. 'Tis her ninth chick to live, I hear, -and Lady day bit off her last chick's nails that was then a twelvemonth -and with other three all breastfed that died written out in a fair hand -in the king's bible. Her hub fifty odd and a methodist but takes the -sacrament and is to be seen any fair sabbath with a pair of his boys off -Bullock harbour dapping on the sound with a heavybraked reel or in a punt -he has trailing for flounder and pollock and catches a fine bag, I hear. -In sum an infinite great fall of rain and all refreshed and will much -increase the harvest yet those in ken say after wind and water fire shall -come for a prognostication of Malachi's almanac and I hear that Mr -Russell has done a prophetical charm of the same gist out of the -Hindustanish for his farmer's gazette to have three things in all but -this a mere fetch without bottom of reason for old crones and bairns yet -sometimes they are found in the right guess with their queerities no -telling how. -With this came up Lenehan to the feet of the table to say how the letter -was in that night's gazette and he made a show to find it about him for -he swore with an oath that he had been at pains about it but on -Stephen's persuasion he gave over the search and was bidden to sit near -by which he did mighty brisk. He was a kind of sport gentleman that went -for a merryandrew or honest pickle and what belonged of women, horseflesh -or hot scandal he had it pat. To tell the truth he was mean in fortunes -and for the most part hankered about the coffeehouses and low taverns -with crimps, ostlers, bookies, Paul's men, runners, flatcaps, -waistcoateers, ladies of the bagnio and other rogues of the game or with -a chanceable catchpole or a tipstaff often at nights till broad day of -whom he picked up between his sackpossets much loose gossip. He took his -ordinary at a boilingcook's and if he had but gotten into him a mess of -broken victuals or a platter of tripes with a bare tester in his purse he -could always bring himself off with his tongue, some randy quip he had -from a punk or whatnot that every mother's son of them would burst their -sides. The other, Costello that is, hearing this talk asked was it poetry -or a tale. Faith, no, he says, Frank that was his name, 'tis all about -Kerry cows that are to be butchered along of the plague. But they can go -hang, says he with a wink, for me with their bully beef, a pox on it. -There's as good fish in this tin as ever came out of it and very friendly -he offered to take of some salty sprats that stood by which he had eyed -wishly in the meantime and found the place which was indeed the chief -design of his embassy as he was sharpset. MORT AUX VACHES, says Frank -then in the French language that had been indentured to a brandyshipper -that has a winelodge in Bordeaux and he spoke French like a gentleman -too. From a child this Frank had been a donought that his father, a -headborough, who could ill keep him to school to learn his letters and -the use of the globes, matriculated at the university to study the -mechanics but he took the bit between his teeth like a raw colt and was -more familiar with the justiciary and the parish beadle than with his -volumes. One time he would be a playactor, then a sutler or a welsher, -then nought would keep him from the bearpit and the cocking main, then he -was for the ocean sea or to hoof it on the roads with the romany folk, -kidnapping a squire's heir by favour of moonlight or fecking maids' linen -or choking chicken behind a hedge. He had been off as many times as a cat -has lives and back again with naked pockets as many more to his father -the headborough who shed a pint of tears as often as he saw him. What, -says Mr Leopold with his hands across, that was earnest to know the drift -of it, will they slaughter all? I protest I saw them but this day morning -going to the Liverpool boats, says he. I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, -says he. And he had experience of the like brood beasts and of springers, -greasy hoggets and wether wool, having been some years before actuary for -Mr Joseph Cuffe, a worthy salesmaster that drove his trade for live stock -and meadow auctions hard by Mr Gavin Low's yard in Prussia street. I -question with you there, says he. More like 'tis the hoose or the timber -tongue. Mr Stephen, a little moved but very handsomely told him no such -matter and that he had dispatches from the emperor's chief tailtickler -thanking him for the hospitality, that was sending over Doctor -Rinderpest, the bestquoted cowcatcher in all Muscovy, with a bolus or two -of physic to take the bull by the horns. Come, come, says Mr Vincent, -plain dealing. He'll find himself on the horns of a dilemma if he meddles -with a bull that's Irish, says he. Irish by name and irish by nature, -says Mr Stephen, and he sent the ale purling about, an Irish bull in an -English chinashop. I conceive you, says Mr Dixon. It is that same bull -that was sent to our island by farmer Nicholas, the bravest cattlebreeder -of them all, with an emerald ring in his nose. True for you, says Mr -Vincent cross the table, and a bullseye into the bargain, says he, and a -plumper and a portlier bull, says he, never shit on shamrock. He had -horns galore, a coat of cloth of gold and a sweet smoky breath coming out -of his nostrils so that the women of our island, leaving doughballs and -rollingpins, followed after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains. -What for that, says Mr Dixon, but before he came over farmer Nicholas -that was a eunuch had him properly gelded by a college of doctors who -were no better off than himself. So be off now, says he, and do all my -cousin german the lord Harry tells you and take a farmer's blessing, and -with that he slapped his posteriors very soundly. But the slap and the -blessing stood him friend, says Mr Vincent, for to make up he taught him -a trick worth two of the other so that maid, wife, abbess and widow to -this day affirm that they would rather any time of the month whisper in -his ear in the dark of a cowhouse or get a lick on the nape from his long -holy tongue than lie with the finest strapping young ravisher in the four -fields of all Ireland. Another then put in his word And they dressed -him, says he, in a point shift and petticoat with a tippet and girdle and -ruffles on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over -with spermacetic oil and built stables for him at every turn of the road -with a gold manger in each full of the best hay in the market so that he -could doss and dung to his heart's content. By this time the father of -the faithful for so they called him was grown so heavy that he could -scarce walk to pasture. To remedy which our cozening dames and damsels -brought him his fodder in their apronlaps and as soon as his belly was -full he would rear up on his hind uarters to show their ladyships a -mystery and roar and bellow out of him in bulls' language and they all -after him. Ay, says another, and so pampered was he that he would suffer -nought to grow in all the land but green grass for himself for that was -the only colour to his mind and there was a board put up on a hillock in -the middle of the island with a printed notice, saying By the Lord -Harry, Green is the grass that grows on the ground. And, says Mr Dixon, -if ever he got scent of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the wilds of -Connemara or a husbandman in Sligo that was sowing as much as a handful -of mustard or a bag of rapeseed out he'd run amok over half the -countryside rooting up with his horns whatever was planted and all by -lord Harry's orders. There was bad blood between them at first, says Mr -Vincent, and the lord Harry called farmer Nicholas all the old Nicks in -the world and an old whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his house and -I'll meddle in his matters, says he. I'll make that animal smell hell, -says he, with the help of that good pizzle my father left me. But one -evening, says Mr Dixon, when the lord Harry was cleaning his royal pelt -to go to dinner after winning a boatrace he had spade oars for himself -but the first rule of the course was that the others were to row with -pitchforks he discovered in himself a wonderful likeness to a bull and -on picking up a blackthumbed chapbook that he kept in the pantry he found -sure enough that he was a lefthanded descendant of the famous champion -bull of the Romans, BOS BOVUM, which is good bog Latin for boss of the -show. After that, says Mr Vincent, the lord Harry put his head into a -cow's drinkingtrough in the presence of all his courtiers and pulling it -out again told them all his new name. Then, with the water running off -him, he got into an old smock and skirt that had belonged to his -grandmother and bought a grammar of the bulls' language to study but he -could never learn a word of it except the first personal pronoun which he -copied out big and got off by heart and if ever he went out for a walk he -filled his pockets with chalk to write it upon what took his fancy, the -side of a rock or a teahouse table or a bale of cotton or a corkfloat. In -short, he and the bull of Ireland were soon as fast friends as an arse -and a shirt. They were, says Mr Stephen, and the end was that the men of -the island seeing no help was toward, as the ungrate women were all of -one mind, made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their bundles of -chattels on shipboard, set all masts erect, manned the yards, sprang -their luff, heaved to, spread three sheets in the wind, put her head -between wind and water, weighed anchor, ported her helm, ran up the jolly -Roger, gave three times three, let the bullgine run, pushed off in their -bumboat and put to sea to recover the main of America. Which was the -occasion, says Mr Vincent, of the composing by a boatswain of that -rollicking chanty -POPE PETER'S BUT A PISSABED. -A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT. -Our worthy acquaintance Mr Malachi Mulligan now appeared in the doorway -as the students were finishing their apologue accompanied with a friend -whom he had just rencountered, a young gentleman, his name Alec Bannon, -who had late come to town, it being his intention to buy a colour or a -cornetcy in the fencibles and list for the wars. Mr Mulligan was civil -enough to express some relish of it all the more as it jumped with a -project of his own for the cure of the very evil that had been touched -on. Whereat he handed round to the company a set of pasteboard cards -which he had had printed that day at Mr Quinnell's bearing a legend -printed in fair italics MR MALACHI MULLIGAN. FERTILISER AND INCUBATOR. -LAMBAY ISLAND. His project, as he went on to expound, was to withdraw -from the round of idle pleasures such as form the chief business of sir -Fopling Popinjay and sir Milksop Quidnunc in town and to devote himself -to the noblest task for which our bodily organism has been framed. Well, -let us hear of it, good my friend, said Mr Dixon. I make no doubt it -smacks of wenching. Come, be seated, both. 'Tis as cheap sitting as -standing. Mr Mulligan accepted of the invitation and, expatiating upon -his design, told his hearers that he had been led into this thought by a -consideration of the causes of sterility, both the inhibitory and the -prohibitory, whether the inhibition in its turn were due to conjugal -vexations or to a parsimony of the balance as well as whether the -prohibition proceeded from defects congenital or from proclivities -acquired. It grieved him plaguily, he said, to see the nuptial couch -defrauded of its dearest pledges and to reflect upon so many agreeable -females with rich jointures, a prey to the vilest bonzes, who hide their -flambeau under a bushel in an uncongenial cloister or lose their womanly -bloom in the embraces of some unaccountable muskin when they might -multiply the inlets of happiness, sacrificing the inestimable jewel of -their sex when a hundred pretty fellows were at hand to caress, this, he -assured them, made his heart weep. To curb this inconvenient which he -concluded due to a suppression of latent heat, having advised with -certain counsellors of worth and inspected into this matter, he had -resolved to purchase in fee simple for ever the freehold of Lambay island -from its holder, lord Talbot de Malahide, a Tory gentleman of note much -in favour with our ascendancy party. He proposed to set up there a -national fertilising farm to be named OMPHALOS with an obelisk hewn and -erected after the fashion of Egypt and to offer his dutiful yeoman -services for the fecundation of any female of what grade of life soever -who should there direct to him with the desire of fulfilling the -functions of her natural. Money was no object, he said, nor would he take -a penny for his pains. The poorest kitchenwench no less than the opulent -lady of fashion, if so be their constructions and their tempers were warm -persuaders for their petitions, would find in him their man. For his -nutriment he shewed how he would feed himself exclusively upon a diet of -savoury tubercles and fish and coneys there, the flesh of these latter -prolific rodents being highly recommended for his purpose, both broiled -and stewed with a blade of mace and a pod or two of capsicum chillies. -After this homily which he delivered with much warmth of asseveration Mr -Mulligan in a trice put off from his hat a kerchief with which he had -shielded it. They both, it seems, had been overtaken by the rain and for -all their mending their pace had taken water, as might be observed by Mr -Mulligan's smallclothes of a hodden grey which was now somewhat piebald. -His project meanwhile was very favourably entertained by his auditors and -won hearty eulogies from all though Mr Dixon of Mary's excepted to it, -asking with a finicking air did he purpose also to carry coals to -Newcastle. Mr Mulligan however made court to the scholarly by an apt -quotation from the classics which, as it dwelt upon his memory, seemed to -him a sound and tasteful support of his contention TALIS AC TANTA -DEPRAVATIO HUJUS SECULI, O QUIRITES, UT MATRESFAMILIARUM NOSTRAE LASCIVAS -CUJUSLIBET SEMIVIRI LIBICI TITILLATIONES TESTIBUS PONDEROSIS ATQUE -EXCELSIS ERECTIONIBUS CENTURIONUM ROMANORUM MAGNOPERE ANTEPONUNT, while -for those of ruder wit he drove home his point by analogies of the animal -kingdom more suitable to their stomach, the buck and doe of the forest -glade, the farmyard drake and duck. -Valuing himself not a little upon his elegance, being indeed a proper man -of person, this talkative now applied himself to his dress with -animadversions of some heat upon the sudden whimsy of the atmospherics -while the company lavished their encomiums upon the project he had -advanced. The young gentleman, his friend, overjoyed as he was at a -passage that had late befallen him, could not forbear to tell it his -nearest neighbour. Mr Mulligan, now perceiving the table, asked for whom -were those loaves and fishes and, seeing the stranger, he made him a -civil bow and said, Pray, sir, was you in need of any professional -assistance we could give? Who, upon his offer, thanked him very heartily, -though preserving his proper distance, and replied that he was come there -about a lady, now an inmate of Horne's house, that was in an interesting -condition, poor body, from woman's woe and here he fetched a deep sigh -to know if her happiness had yet taken place. Mr Dixon, to turn the -table, took on to ask of Mr Mulligan himself whether his incipient -ventripotence, upon which he rallied him, betokened an ovoblastic -gestation in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as with the -noted physician, Mr Austin Meldon, to a wolf in the stomach. For answer -Mr Mulligan, in a gale of laughter at his smalls, smote himself bravely -below the diaphragm, exclaiming with an admirable droll mimic of Mother -Grogan the most excellent creature of her sex though 'tis pity she's a -trollop There's a belly that never bore a bastard. This was so happy a -conceit that it renewed the storm of mirth and threw the whole room into -the most violent agitations of delight. The spry rattle had run on in the -same vein of mimicry but for some larum in the antechamber. -Here the listener who was none other than the Scotch student, a little -fume of a fellow, blond as tow, congratulated in the liveliest fashion -with the young gentleman and, interrupting the narrative at a salient -point, having desired his visavis with a polite beck to have the -obligingness to pass him a flagon of cordial waters at the same time by a -questioning poise of the head a whole century of polite breeding had not -achieved so nice a gesture to which was united an equivalent but -contrary balance of the bottle asked the narrator as plainly as was ever -done in words if he might treat him with a cup of it. MAIS BIEN SUR, -noble stranger, said he cheerily, ET MILLE COMPLIMENTS. That you may and -very opportunely. There wanted nothing but this cup to crown my felicity. -But, gracious heaven, was I left with but a crust in my wallet and a -cupful of water from the well, my God, I would accept of them and find it -in my heart to kneel down upon the ground and give thanks to the powers -above for the happiness vouchsafed me by the Giver of good things. With -these words he approached the goblet to his lips, took a complacent -draught of the cordial, slicked his hair and, opening his bosom, out -popped a locket that hung from a silk riband, that very picture which he -had cherished ever since her hand had wrote therein. Gazing upon those -features with a world of tenderness, Ah, Monsieur, he said, had you but -beheld her as I did with these eyes at that affecting instant with her -dainty tucker and her new coquette cap a gift for her feastday as she -told me prettily in such an artless disorder, of so melting a -tenderness, 'pon my conscience, even you, Monsieur, had been impelled by -generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such an -enemy or to quit the field for ever. I declare, I was never so touched in -all my life. God, I thank thee, as the Author of my days Thrice happy -will he be whom so amiable a creature will bless with her favours. A sigh -of affection gave eloquence to these words and, having replaced the -locket in his bosom, he wiped his eye and sighed again. Beneficent -Disseminator of blessings to all Thy creatures, how great and universal -must be that sweetest of Thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free -and the bond, the simple swain and the polished coxcomb, the lover in the -heyday of reckless passion and the husband of maturer years. But indeed, -sir, I wander from the point. How mingled and imperfect are all our -sublunary joys. Maledicity he exclaimed in anguish. Would to God that -foresight had but remembered me to take my cloak along I could weep to -think of it. Then, though it had poured seven showers, we were neither of -us a penny the worse. But beshrew me, he cried, clapping hand to his -forehead, tomorrow will be a new day and, thousand thunders, I know of a -MARCHAND DE CAPOTES, Monsieur Poyntz, from whom I can have for a livre as -snug a cloak of the French fashion as ever kept a lady from wetting. Tut, -tut cries Le Fecondateur, tripping in, my friend Monsieur Moore, that -most accomplished traveller I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI -in a circle of the best wits of the town, is my authority that in Cape -Horn, VENTRE BICHE, they have a rain that will wet through any, even the -stoutest cloak. A drenching of that violence, he tells me, SANS BLAGUE, -has sent more than one luckless fellow in good earnest posthaste to -another world. Pooh A LIVRE cries Monsieur Lynch. The clumsy things are -dear at a sou. One umbrella, were it no bigger than a fairy mushroom, is -worth ten such stopgaps. No woman of any wit would wear one. My dear -Kitty told me today that she would dance in a deluge before ever she -would starve in such an ark of salvation for, as she reminded me -blushing piquantly and whispering in my ear though there was none to -snap her words but giddy butterflies, dame Nature, by the divine -blessing, has implanted it in our hearts and it has become a household -word that IL Y A DEUX CHOSES for which the innocence of our original -garb, in other circumstances a breach of the proprieties, is the fittest, -nay, the only garment. The first, said she and here my pretty -philosopher, as I handed her to her tilbury, to fix my attention, gently -tipped with her tongue the outer chamber of my ear, the first is a bath -... But at this point a bell tinkling in the hall cut short a discourse -which promised so bravely for the enrichment of our store of knowledge. -Amid the general vacant hilarity of the assembly a bell rang and, while -all were conjecturing what might be the cause, Miss Callan entered and, -having spoken a few words in a low tone to young Mr Dixon, retired with a -profound bow to the company. The presence even for a moment among a party -of debauchees of a woman endued with every quality of modesty and not -less severe than beautiful refrained the humourous sallies even of the -most licentious but her departure was the signal for an outbreak of -ribaldry. Strike me silly, said Costello, a low fellow who was fuddled. A -monstrous fine bit of cowflesh I'll be sworn she has rendezvoused you. -What, you dog? Have you a way with them? Gad's bud, immensely so, said Mr -Lynch. The bedside manner it is that they use in the Mater hospice. -Demme, does not Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under the chin. As I -look to be saved I had it from my Kitty who has been wardmaid there any -time these seven months. Lawksamercy, doctor, cried the young blood in -the primrose vest, feigning a womanish simper and with immodest -squirmings of his body, how you do tease a body Drat the man Bless me, -I'm all of a wibbly wobbly. Why, you're as bad as dear little Father -Cantekissem, that you are May this pot of four half choke me, cried -Costello, if she aint in the family way. I knows a lady what's got a -white swelling quick as I claps eyes on her. The young surgeon, however, -rose and begged the company to excuse his retreat as the nurse had just -then informed him that he was needed in the ward. Merciful providence had -been pleased to put a period to the sufferings of the lady who was -ENCEINTE which she had borne with a laudable fortitude and she had given -birth to a bouncing boy. I want patience, said he, with those who, -without wit to enliven or learning to instruct, revile an ennobling -profession which, saving the reverence due to the Deity, is the greatest -power for happiness upon the earth. I am positive when I say that if need -were I could produce a cloud of witnesses to the excellence of her noble -exercitations which, so far from being a byword, should be a glorious -incentive in the human breast. I cannot away with them. What? Malign such -an one, the amiable Miss Callan, who is the lustre of her own sex and the -astonishment of ours? And at an instant the most momentous that can -befall a puny child of clay? Perish the thought I shudder to think of -the future of a race where the seeds of such malice have been sown and -where no right reverence is rendered to mother and maid in house of -Horne. Having delivered himself of this rebuke he saluted those present -on the by and repaired to the door. A murmur of approval arose from all -and some were for ejecting the low soaker without more ado, a design -which would have been effected nor would he have received more than his -bare deserts had he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a -horrid imprecation for he swore a round hand that he was as good a son -of the true fold as ever drew breath. Stap my vitals, said he, them was -always the sentiments of honest Frank Costello which I was bred up most -particular to honour thy father and thy mother that had the best hand to -a rolypoly or a hasty pudding as you ever see what I always looks back on -with a loving heart. -To revert to Mr Bloom who, after his first entry, had been conscious of -some impudent mocks which he however had borne with as being the fruits -of that age upon which it is commonly charged that it knows not pity. The -young sparks, it is true, were as full of extravagancies as overgrown -children the words of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly -understood and not often nice their testiness and outrageous MOTS were -such that his intellects resiled from nor were they scrupulously -sensible of the proprieties though their fund of strong animal spirits -spoke in their behalf. But the word of Mr Costello was an unwelcome -language for him for he nauseated the wretch that seemed to him a -cropeared creature of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of wedlock and -thrust like a crookback toothed and feet first into the world, which the -dint of the surgeon's pliers in his skull lent indeed a colour to, so as -to put him in thought of that missing link of creation's chain -desiderated by the late ingenious Mr Darwin. It was now for more than the -middle span of our allotted years that he had passed through the thousand -vicissitudes of existence and, being of a wary ascendancy and self a man -of rare forecast, he had enjoined his heart to repress all motions of a -rising choler and, by intercepting them with the readiest precaution, -foster within his breast that plenitude of sufferance which base minds -jeer at, rash judgers scorn and all find tolerable and but tolerable. To -those who create themselves wits at the cost of feminine delicacy a -habit of mind which he never did hold with to them he would concede -neither to bear the name nor to herit the tradition of a proper breeding -while for such that, having lost all forbearance, can lose no more, there -remained the sharp antidote of experience to cause their insolency to -beat a precipitate and inglorious retreat. Not but what he could feel -with mettlesome youth which, caring nought for the mows of dotards or the -gruntlings of the severe, is ever as the chaste fancy of the Holy Writer -expresses it for eating of the tree forbid it yet not so far forth as to -pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when -she was about her lawful occasions. To conclude, while from the sister's -words he had reckoned upon a speedy delivery he was, however, it must be -owned, not a little alleviated by the intelligence that the issue so -auspicated after an ordeal of such duress now testified once more to the -mercy as well as to the bounty of the Supreme Being. -Accordingly he broke his mind to his neighbour, saying that, to express -his notion of the thing, his opinion who ought not perchance to express -one was that one must have a cold constitution and a frigid genius not -to be rejoiced by this freshest news of the fruition of her confinement -since she had been in such pain through no fault of hers. The dressy -young blade said it was her husband's that put her in that expectation or -at least it ought to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. I must -acquaint you, said Mr Crotthers, clapping on the table so as to evoke a -resonant comment of emphasis, old Glory Allelujurum was round again -today, an elderly man with dundrearies, preferring through his nose a -request to have word of Wilhelmina, my life, as he calls her. I bade him -hold himself in readiness for that the event would burst anon. 'Slife, -I'll be round with you. I cannot but extol the virile potency of the old -bucko that could still knock another child out of her. All fell to -praising of it, each after his own fashion, though the same young blade -held with his former view that another than her conjugial had been the -man in the gap, a clerk in orders, a linkboy virtuous or an itinerant -vendor of articles needed in every household. Singular, communed the -guest with himself, the wonderfully unequal faculty of metempsychosis -possessed by them, that the puerperal dormitory and the dissecting -theatre should be the seminaries of such frivolity, that the mere -acquisition of academic titles should suffice to transform in a pinch of -time these votaries of levity into exemplary practitioners of an art -which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest. But, he further -added, it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in common oppress -them for I have more than once observed that birds of a feather laugh -together. -But with what fitness, let it be asked of the noble lord, his patron, has -this alien, whom the concession of a gracious prince has admitted to -civic rights, constituted himself the lord paramount of our internal -polity? Where is now that gratitude which loyalty should have counselled? -During the recent war whenever the enemy had a temporary advantage with -his granados did this traitor to his kind not seize that moment to -discharge his piece against the empire of which he is a tenant at will -while he trembled for the security of his four per cents? Has he -forgotten this as he forgets all benefits received? Or is it that from -being a deluder of others he has become at last his own dupe as he is, if -report belie him not, his own and his only enjoyer? Far be it from -candour to violate the bedchamber of a respectable lady, the daughter of -a gallant major, or to cast the most distant reflections upon her virtue -but if he challenges attention there as it was indeed highly his -interest not to have done then be it so. Unhappy woman, she has been too -long and too persistently denied her legitimate prerogative to listen to -his objurgations with any other feeling than the derision of the -desperate. He says this, a censor of morals, a very pelican in his piety, -who did not scruple, oblivious of the ties of nature, to attempt illicit -intercourse with a female domestic drawn from the lowest strata of -society Nay, had the hussy's scouringbrush not been her tutelary angel, -it had gone with her as hard as with Hagar, the Egyptian In the question -of the grazing lands his peevish asperity is notorious and in Mr Cuffe's -hearing brought upon him from an indignant rancher a scathing retort -couched in terms as straightforward as they were bucolic. It ill becomes -him to preach that gospel. Has he not nearer home a seedfield that lies -fallow for the want of the ploughshare? A habit reprehensible at puberty -is second nature and an opprobrium in middle life. If he must dispense -his balm of Gilead in nostrums and apothegms of dubious taste to restore -to health a generation of unfledged profligates let his practice consist -better with the doctrines that now engross him. His marital breast is the -repository of secrets which decorum is reluctant to adduce. The lewd -suggestions of some faded beauty may console him for a consort neglected -and debauched but this new exponent of morals and healer of ills is at -his best an exotic tree which, when rooted in its native orient, throve -and flourished and was abundant in balm but, transplanted to a clime more -temperate, its roots have lost their quondam vigour while the stuff that -comes away from it is stagnant, acid and inoperative. -The news was imparted with a circumspection recalling the ceremonial -usage of the Sublime Porte by the second female infirmarian to the junior -medical officer in residence, who in his turn announced to the delegation -that an heir had been born, When he had betaken himself to the women's -apartment to assist at the prescribed ceremony of the afterbirth in the -presence of the secretary of state for domestic affairs and the members -of the privy council, silent in unanimous exhaustion and approbation the -delegates, chafing under the length and solemnity of their vigil and -hoping that the joyful occurrence would palliate a licence which the -simultaneous absence of abigail and obstetrician rendered the easier, -broke out at once into a strife of tongues. In vain the voice of Mr -Canvasser Bloom was heard endeavouring to urge, to mollify, to refrain. -The moment was too propitious for the display of that discursiveness -which seemed the only bond of union among tempers so divergent. Every -phase of the situation was successively eviscerated the prenatal -repugnance of uterine brothers, the Caesarean section, posthumity with -respect to the father and, that rarer form, with respect to the mother, -the fratricidal case known as the Childs Murder and rendered memorable by -the impassioned plea of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of -the wrongfully accused, the rights of primogeniture and king's bounty -touching twins and triplets, miscarriages and infanticides, simulated or -dissimulated, the acardiac FOETUS IN FOETU and aprosopia due to a -congestion, the agnathia of certain chinless Chinamen cited by Mr -Candidate Mulligan in consequence of defective reunion of the maxillary -knobs along the medial line so that as he said one ear could hear what -the other spoke, the benefits of anesthesia or twilight sleep, the -prolongation of labour pains in advanced gravidancy by reason of pressure -on the vein, the premature relentment of the amniotic fluid as -exemplified in the actual case with consequent peril of sepsis to the -matrix, artificial insemination by means of syringes, involution of the -womb consequent upon the menopause, the problem of the perpetration of -the species in the case of females impregnated by delinquent rape, that -distressing manner of delivery called by the Brandenburghers STURZGEBURT, -the recorded instances of multiseminal, twikindled and monstrous births -conceived during the catamenic period or of consanguineous parentsin a -word all the cases of human nativity which Aristotle has classified in -his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. The gravest -problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as much -animation as the most popular beliefs on the state of pregnancy such as -the forbidding to a gravid woman to step over a countrystile lest, by her -movement, the navelcord should strangle her creature and the injunction -upon her in the event of a yearning, ardently and ineffectually -entertained, to place her hand against that part of her person which long -usage has consecrated as the seat of castigation. The abnormalities of -harelip, breastmole, supernumerary digits, negro's inkle, strawberry mark -and portwine stain were alleged by one as a PRIMA FACIE and natural -hypothetical explanation of those swineheaded the case of Madame Grissel -Steevens was not forgotten or doghaired infants occasionally born. The -hypothesis of a plasmic memory, advanced by the Caledonian envoy and -worthy of the metaphysical traditions of the land he stood for, envisaged -in such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent -to the human. An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, -with such heat as almost carried conviction, the theory of copulation -between women and the males of brutes, his authority being his own -avouchment in support of fables such as that of the Minotaur which the -genius of the elegant Latin poet has handed down to us in the pages of -his Metamorphoses. The impression made by his words was immediate but -shortlived. It was effaced as easily as it had been evoked by an -allocution from Mr Candidate Mulligan in that vein of pleasantry which -none better than he knew how to affect, postulating as the supremest -object of desire a nice clean old man. Contemporaneously, a heated -argument having arisen between Mr Delegate Madden and Mr Candidate Lynch -regarding the juridical and theological dilemma created in the event of -one Siamese twin predeceasing the other, the difficulty by mutual consent -was referred to Mr Canvasser Bloom for instant submittal to Mr Coadjutor -Deacon Dedalus. Hitherto silent, whether the better to show by -preternatural gravity that curious dignity of the garb with which he was -invested or in obedience to an inward voice, he delivered briefly and, as -some thought, perfunctorily the ecclesiastical ordinance forbidding man -to put asunder what God has joined. -But Malachias' tale began to freeze them with horror. He conjured up the -scene before them. The secret panel beside the chimney slid back and in -the recess appeared ... Haines Which of us did not feel his flesh creep -He had a portfolio full of Celtic literature in one hand, in the other a -phial marked POISON. Surprise, horror, loathing were depicted on all -faces while he eyed them with a ghostly grin. I anticipated some such -reception, he began with an eldritch laugh, for which, it seems, history -is to blame. Yes, it is true. I am the murderer of Samuel Childs. And how -I am punished The inferno has no terrors for me. This is the appearance -is on me. Tare and ages, what way would I be resting at all, he muttered -thickly, and I tramping Dublin this while back with my share of songs and -himself after me the like of a soulth or a bullawurrus? My hell, and -Ireland's, is in this life. It is what I tried to obliterate my crime. -Distractions, rookshooting, the Erse language he recited some, laudanum -he raised the phial to his lips, camping out. In vain His spectre -stalks me. Dope is my only hope ... Ah Destruction The black panther -With a cry he suddenly vanished and the panel slid back. An instant later -his head appeared in the door opposite and said Meet me at Westland Row -station at ten past eleven. He was gone. Tears gushed from the eyes of -the dissipated host. The seer raised his hand to heaven, murmuring The -vendetta of Mananaun The sage repeated LEX TALIONIS. The sentimentalist -is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a -thing done. Malachias, overcome by emotion, ceased. The mystery was -unveiled. Haines was the third brother. His real name was Childs. The -black panther was himself the ghost of his own father. He drank drugs to -obliterate. For this relief much thanks. The lonely house by the -graveyard is uninhabited. No soul will live there. The spider pitches her -web in the solitude. The nocturnal rat peers from his hole. A curse is on -it. It is haunted. Murderer's ground. -What is the age of the soul of man? As she hath the virtue of the -chameleon to change her hue at every new approach, to be gay with the -merry and mournful with the downcast, so too is her age changeable as her -mood. No longer is Leopold, as he sits there, ruminating, chewing the cud -of reminiscence, that staid agent of publicity and holder of a modest -substance in the funds. A score of years are blown away. He is young -Leopold. There, as in a retrospective arrangement, a mirror within a -mirror hey, presto, he beholdeth himself. That young figure of then is -seen, precociously manly, walking on a nipping morning from the old house -in Clanbrassil street to the high school, his booksatchel on him -bandolierwise, and in it a goodly hunk of wheaten loaf, a mother's -thought. Or it is the same figure, a year or so gone over, in his first -hard hat ah, that was a day, already on the road, a fullfledged -traveller for the family firm, equipped with an orderbook, a scented -handkerchief not for show only, his case of bright trinketware alas a -thing now of the past and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this or -that halfwon housewife reckoning it out upon her fingertips or for a -budding virgin, shyly acknowledging but the heart? tell me his studied -baisemoins. The scent, the smile, but, more than these, the dark eyes and -oleaginous address, brought home at duskfall many a commission to the -head of the firm, seated with Jacob's pipe after like labours in the -paternal ingle a meal of noodles, you may be sure, is aheating, reading -through round horned spectacles some paper from the Europe of a month -before. But hey, presto, the mirror is breathed on and the young -knighterrant recedes, shrivels, dwindles to a tiny speck within the mist. -Now he is himself paternal and these about him might be his sons. Who can -say? The wise father knows his own child. He thinks of a drizzling night -in Hatch street, hard by the bonded stores there, the first. Together -she is a poor waif, a child of shame, yours and mine and of all for a -bare shilling and her luckpenny, together they hear the heavy tread of -the watch as two raincaped shadows pass the new royal university. Bridie -Bridie Kelly He will never forget the name, ever remember the night -first night, the bridenight. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, -the willer with the willed, and in an instant FIAT light shall flood -the world. Did heart leap to heart? Nay, fair reader. In a breath 'twas -done buthold Back It must not be In terror the poor girl flees away -through the murk. She is the bride of darkness, a daughter of night. She -dare not bear the sunnygolden babe of day. No, Leopold. Name and memory -solace thee not. That youthful illusion of thy strength was taken from -theeand in vain. No son of thy loins is by thee. There is none now to -be for Leopold, what Leopold was for Rudolph. -The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence silence that is the -infinite of space and swiftly, silently the soul is wafted over regions -of cycles of generations that have lived. A region where grey twilight -ever descends, never falls on wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her -dusk, scattering a perennial dew of stars. She follows her mother with -ungainly steps, a mare leading her fillyfoal. Twilight phantoms are they, -yet moulded in prophetic grace of structure, slim shapely haunches, a -supple tendonous neck, the meek apprehensive skull. They fade, sad -phantoms all is gone. Agendath is a waste land, a home of screechowls -and the sandblind upupa. Netaim, the golden, is no more. And on the -highway of the clouds they come, muttering thunder of rebellion, the -ghosts of beasts. Huuh Hark Huuh Parallax stalks behind and goads -them, the lancinating lightnings of whose brow are scorpions. Elk and -yak, the bulls of Bashan and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they come -trooping to the sunken sea, LACUS MORTIS. Ominous revengeful zodiacal -host They moan, passing upon the clouds, horned and capricorned, the -trumpeted with the tusked, the lionmaned, the giantantlered, snouter and -crawler, rodent, ruminant and pachyderm, all their moving moaning -multitude, murderers of the sun. -Onward to the dead sea they tramp to drink, unslaked and with horrible -gulpings, the salt somnolent inexhaustible flood. And the equine portent -grows again, magnified in the deserted heavens, nay to heaven's own -magnitude, till it looms, vast, over the house of Virgo. And lo, wonder -of metempsychosis, it is she, the everlasting bride, harbinger of the -daystar, the bride, ever virgin. It is she, Martha, thou lost one, -Millicent, the young, the dear, the radiant. How serene does she now -arise, a queen among the Pleiades, in the penultimate antelucan hour, -shod in sandals of bright gold, coifed with a veil of what do you call it -gossamer. It floats, it flows about her starborn flesh and loose it -streams, emerald, sapphire, mauve and heliotrope, sustained on currents -of the cold interstellar wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, -writhing in the skies a mysterious writing till, after a myriad -metamorphoses of symbol, it blazes, Alpha, a ruby and triangled sign upon -the forehead of Taurus. -Francis was reminding Stephen of years before when they had been at -school together in Conmee's time. He asked about Glaucon, Alcibiades, -Pisistratus. Where were they now? Neither knew. You have spoken of the -past and its phantoms, Stephen said. Why think of them? If I call them -into life across the waters of Lethe will not the poor ghosts troop to my -call? Who supposes it? I, Bous Stephanoumenos, bullockbefriending bard, -am lord and giver of their life. He encircled his gadding hair with a -coronal of vineleaves, smiling at Vincent. That answer and those leaves, -Vincent said to him, will adorn you more fitly when something more, and -greatly more, than a capful of light odes can call your genius father. -All who wish you well hope this for you. All desire to see you bring -forth the work you meditate, to acclaim you Stephaneforos. I heartily -wish you may not fail them. O no, Vincent Lenehan said, laying a hand on -the shoulder near him. Have no fear. He could not leave his mother an -orphan. The young man's face grew dark. All could see how hard it was for -him to be reminded of his promise and of his recent loss. He would have -withdrawn from the feast had not the noise of voices allayed the smart. -Madden had lost five drachmas on Sceptre for a whim of the rider's name -Lenehan as much more. He told them of the race. The flag fell and, huuh -off, scamper, the mare ran out freshly with O. Madden up. She was leading -the field. All hearts were beating. Even Phyllis could not contain -herself. She waved her scarf and cried Huzzah Sceptre wins But in the -straight on the run home when all were in close order the dark horse -Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. All was lost now. Phyllis -was silent her eyes were sad anemones. Juno, she cried, I am undone. But -her lover consoled her and brought her a bright casket of gold in which -lay some oval sugarplums which she partook. A tear fell one only. A -whacking fine whip, said Lenehan, is W. Lane. Four winners yesterday and -three today. What rider is like him? Mount him on the camel or the -boisterous buffalo the victory in a hack canter is still his. But let us -bear it as was the ancient wont. Mercy on the luckless Poor Sceptre he -said with a light sigh. She is not the filly that she was. Never, by this -hand, shall we behold such another. By gad, sir, a queen of them. Do you -remember her, Vincent? I wish you could have seen my queen today, Vincent -said. How young she was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her -in her yellow shoes and frock of muslin, I do not know the right name of -it. The chestnuts that shaded us were in bloom the air drooped with -their persuasive odour and with pollen floating by us. In the sunny -patches one might easily have cooked on a stone a batch of those buns -with Corinth fruit in them that Periplipomenes sells in his booth near -the bridge. But she had nought for her teeth but the arm with which I -held her and in that she nibbled mischievously when I pressed too close. -A week ago she lay ill, four days on the couch, but today she was free, -blithe, mocked at peril. She is more taking then. Her posies tool Mad -romp that she is, she had pulled her fill as we reclined together. And in -your ear, my friend, you will not think who met us as we left the field. -Conmee himself He was walking by the hedge, reading, I think a brevier -book with, I doubt not, a witty letter in it from Glycera or Chloe to -keep the page. The sweet creature turned all colours in her confusion, -feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her dress a slip of underwood -clung there for the very trees adore her. When Conmee had passed she -glanced at her lovely echo in that little mirror she carries. But he had -been kind. In going by he had blessed us. The gods too are ever kind, -Lenehan said. If I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of -his may serve me more propensely. He was laying his hand upon a winejar -Malachi saw it and withheld his act, pointing to the stranger and to the -scarlet label. Warily, Malachi whispered, preserve a druid silence. His -soul is far away. It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision -as to be born. Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to -the incorruptible eon of the gods. Do you not think it, Stephen? -Theosophos told me so, Stephen answered, whom in a previous existence -Egyptian priests initiated into the mysteries of karmic law. The lords of -the moon, Theosophos told me, an orangefiery shipload from planet Alpha -of the lunar chain would not assume the etheric doubles and these were -therefore incarnated by the rubycoloured egos from the second -constellation. -However, as a matter of fact though, the preposterous surmise about him -being in some description of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was. -entirely due to a misconception of the shallowest character, was not the -case at all. The individual whose visual organs while the above was going -on were at this juncture commencing to exhibit symptoms of animation was -as astute if not astuter than any man living and anybody that conjectured -the contrary would have found themselves pretty speedily in the wrong -shop. During the past four minutes or thereabouts he had been staring -hard at a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by Messrs Bass and Co -at BurtononTrent which happened to be situated amongst a lot of others -right opposite to where he was and which was certainly calculated to -attract anyone's remark on account of its scarlet appearance. He was -simply and solely, as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known -to himself, which put quite an altogether different complexion on the -proceedings, after the moment before's observations about boyhood days -and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his own -which the other two were as mutually innocent of as the babe unborn. -Eventually, however, both their eyes met and as soon as it began to dawn -on him that the other was endeavouring to help himself to the thing he -involuntarily determined to help him himself and so he accordingly took -hold of the neck of the mediumsized glass recipient which contained the -fluid sought after and made a capacious hole in it by pouring a lot of it -out with, also at the same time, however, a considerable degree of -attentiveness in order not to upset any of the beer that was in it about -the place. -The debate which ensued was in its scope and progress an epitome of the -course of life. Neither place nor council was lacking in dignity. The -debaters were the keenest in the land, the theme they were engaged on the -loftiest and most vital. The high hall of Horne's house had never beheld -an assembly so representative and so varied nor had the old rafters of -that establishment ever listened to a language so encyclopaedic. A -gallant scene in truth it made. Crotthers was there at the foot of the -table in his striking Highland garb, his face glowing from the briny airs -of the Mull of Galloway. There too, opposite to him, was Lynch whose -countenance bore already the stigmata of early depravity and premature -wisdom. Next the Scotchman was the place assigned to Costello, the -eccentric, while at his side was seated in stolid repose the squat form -of Madden. The chair of the resident indeed stood vacant before the -hearth but on either flank of it the figure of Bannon in explorer's kit -of tweed shorts and salted cowhide brogues contrasted sharply with the -primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John -Mulligan. Lastly at the head of the board was the young poet who found a -refuge from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the -convivial atmosphere of Socratic discussion, while to right and left of -him were accommodated the flippant prognosticator, fresh from the -hippodrome, and that vigilant wanderer, soiled by the dust of travel and -combat and stained by the mire of an indelible dishonour, but from whose -steadfast and constant heart no lure or peril or threat or degradation -could ever efface the image of that voluptuous loveliness which the -inspired pencil of Lafayette has limned for ages yet to come. -It had better be stated here and now at the outset that the perverted -transcendentalism to which Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. contentions would -appear to prove him pretty badly addicted runs directly counter to -accepted scientific methods. Science, it cannot be too often repeated, -deals with tangible phenomena. The man of science like the man in the -street has to face hardheaded facts that cannot be blinked and explain -them as best he can. There may be, it is true, some questions which -science cannot answerat presentsuch as the first problem submitted by -Mr L. Bloom Pubb. Canv. regarding the future determination of sex. Must -we accept the view of Empedocles of Trinacria that the right ovary the -postmenstrual period, assert others is responsible for the birth of -males or are the too long neglected spermatozoa or nemasperms the -differentiating factors or is it, as most embryologists incline to opine, -such as Culpepper, Spallanzani, Blumenbach, Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold and -Valenti, a mixture of both? This would be tantamount to a cooperation -one of nature's favourite devices between the NISUS FORMATIVUS of the -nemasperm on the one hand and on the other a happily chosen position, -SUCCUBITUS FELIX of the passive element. The other problem raised by the -same inquirer is scarcely less vital infant mortality. It is interesting -because, as he pertinently remarks, we are all born in the same way but -we all die in different ways. Mr M. Mulligan Hyg. et Eug. Doc. blames -the sanitary conditions in which our greylunged citizens contract -adenoids, pulmonary complaints etc. by inhaling the bacteria which lurk -in dust. These factors, he alleged, and the revolting spectacles offered -by our streets, hideous publicity posters, religious ministers of all -denominations, mutilated soldiers and sailors, exposed scorbutic -cardrivers, the suspended carcases of dead animals, paranoic bachelors -and unfructified duennasthese, he said, were accountable for any and -every fallingoff in the calibre of the race. Kalipedia, he prophesied, -would soon be generally adopted and all the graces of life, genuinely -good music, agreeable literature, light philosophy, instructive pictures, -plastercast reproductions of the classical statues such as Venus and -Apollo, artistic coloured photographs of prize babies, all these little -attentions would enable ladies who were in a particular condition to pass -the intervening months in a most enjoyable manner. Mr J. Crotthers Disc. -Bacc. attributes some of these demises to abdominal trauma in the case -of women workers subjected to heavy labours in the workshop and to -marital discipline in the home but by far the vast majority to neglect, -private or official, culminating in the exposure of newborn infants, the -practice of criminal abortion or in the atrocious crime of infanticide. -Although the former we are thinking of neglect is undoubtedly only too -true the case he cites of nurses forgetting to count the sponges in the -peritoneal cavity is too rare to be normative. In fact when one comes to -look into it the wonder is that so many pregnancies and deliveries go off -so well as they do, all things considered and in spite of our human -shortcomings which often baulk nature in her intentions. An ingenious -suggestion is that thrown out by Mr V. Lynch Bacc. Arith. that both -natality and mortality, as well as all other phenomena of evolution, -tidal movements, lunar phases, blood temperatures, diseases in general, -everything, in fine, in nature's vast workshop from the extinction of -some remote sun to the blossoming of one of the countless flowers which -beautify our public parks is subject to a law of numeration as yet -unascertained. Still the plain straightforward question why a child of -normally healthy parents and seemingly a healthy child and properly -looked after succumbs unaccountably in early childhood though other -children of the same marriage do not must certainly, in the poet's -words, give us pause. Nature, we may rest assured, has her own good and -cogent reasons for whatever she does and in all probability such deaths -are due to some law of anticipation by which organisms in which morbous -germs have taken up their residence modern science has conclusively -shown that only the plasmic substance can be said to be immortal tend to -disappear at an increasingly earlier stage of development, an arrangement -which, though productive of pain to some of our feelings notably the -maternal, is nevertheless, some of us think, in the long run beneficial -to the race in general in securing thereby the survival of the fittest. -Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. remark or should it be called an -interruption? that an omnivorous being which can masticate, deglute, -digest and apparently pass through the ordinary channel with -pluterperfect imperturbability such multifarious aliments as cancrenous -females emaciated by parturition, corpulent professional gentlemen, not -to speak of jaundiced politicians and chlorotic nuns, might possibly find -gastric relief in an innocent collation of staggering bob, reveals as -nought else could and in a very unsavoury light the tendency above -alluded to. For the enlightenment of those who are not so intimately -acquainted with the minutiae of the municipal abattoir as this -morbidminded esthete and embryo philosopher who for all his overweening -bumptiousness in things scientific can scarcely distinguish an acid from -an alkali prides himself on being, it should perhaps be stated that -staggering bob in the vile parlance of our lowerclass licensed -victuallers signifies the cookable and eatable flesh of a calf newly -dropped from its mother. In a recent public controversy with Mr L. Bloom -Pubb. Canv. which took place in the commons' hall of the National -Maternity Hospital, , and Holles street, of which, as is well -known, Dr A. Horne Lic. in Midw., F. K. Q. C. P. I. is the able and -popular master, he is reported by eyewitnesses as having stated that once -a woman has let the cat into the bag an esthete's allusion, presumably, -to one of the most complicated and marvellous of all nature's processes -the act of sexual congress she must let it out again or give it life, as -he phrased it, to save her own. At the risk of her own, was the telling -rejoinder of his interlocutor, none the less effective for the moderate -and measured tone in which it was delivered. -Meanwhile the skill and patience of the physician had brought about a -happy ACCOUCHEMENT. It had been a weary weary while both for patient and -doctor. All that surgical skill could do was done and the brave woman had -manfully helped. She had. She had fought the good fight and now she was -very very happy. Those who have passed on, who have gone before, are -happy too as they gaze down and smile upon the touching scene. Reverently -look at her as she reclines there with the motherlight in her eyes, that -longing hunger for baby fingers a pretty sight it is to see, in the -first bloom of her new motherhood, breathing a silent prayer of -thanksgiving to One above, the Universal Husband. And as her loving eyes -behold her babe she wishes only one blessing more, to have her dear Doady -there with her to share her joy, to lay in his arms that mite of God's -clay, the fruit of their lawful embraces. He is older now you and I may -whisper it and a trifle stooped in the shoulders yet in the whirligig of -years a grave dignity has come to the conscientious second accountant of -the Ulster bank, College Green branch. O Doady, loved one of old, -faithful lifemate now, it may never be again, that faroff time of the -roses With the old shake of her pretty head she recalls those days. God -How beautiful now across the mist of years But their children are -grouped in her imagination about the bedside, hers and his, Charley, Mary -Alice, Frederick Albert if he had lived, Mamy, Budgy Victoria -Frances, Tom, Violet Constance Louisa, darling little Bobsy called -after our famous hero of the South African war, lord Bobs of Waterford -and Candahar and now this last pledge of their union, a Purefoy if ever -there was one, with the true Purefoy nose. Young hopeful will be -christened Mortimer Edward after the influential third cousin of Mr -Purefoy in the Treasury Remembrancer's office, Dublin Castle. And so time -wags on but father Cronion has dealt lightly here. No, let no sigh break -from that bosom, dear gentle Mina. And Doady, knock the ashes from your -pipe, the seasoned briar you still fancy when the curfew rings for you -may it be the distant day and dout the light whereby you read in the -Sacred Book for the oil too has run low, and so with a tranquil heart to -bed, to rest. He knows and will call in His own good time. You too have -fought the good fight and played loyally your man's part. Sir, to you my -hand. Well done, thou good and faithful servant -There are sins or let us call them as the world calls them evil -memories which are hidden away by man in the darkest places of the heart -but they abide there and wait. He may suffer their memory to grow dim, -let them be as though they had not been and all but persuade himself that -they were not or at least were otherwise. Yet a chance word will call -them forth suddenly and they will rise up to confront him in the most -various circumstances, a vision or a dream, or while timbrel and harp -soothe his senses or amid the cool silver tranquility of the evening or -at the feast, at midnight, when he is now filled with wine. Not to insult -over him will the vision come as over one that lies under her wrath, not -for vengeance to cut him off from the living but shrouded in the piteous -vesture of the past, silent, remote, reproachful. -The stranger still regarded on the face before him a slow recession of -that false calm there, imposed, as it seemed, by habit or some studied -trick, upon words so embittered as to accuse in their speaker an -unhealthiness, a FLAIR, for the cruder things of life. A scene disengages -itself in the observer's memory, evoked, it would seem, by a word of so -natural a homeliness as if those days were really present there as some -thought with their immediate pleasures. A shaven space of lawn one soft -May evening, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown, purple and -white, fragrant slender spectators of the game but with much real -interest in the pellets as they run slowly forward over the sward or -collide and stop, one by its fellow, with a brief alert shock. And yonder -about that grey urn where the water moves at times in thoughtful -irrigation you saw another as fragrant sisterhood, Floey, Atty, Tiny and -their darker friend with I know not what of arresting in her pose then, -Our Lady of the Cherries, a comely brace of them pendent from an ear, -bringing out the foreign warmth of the skin so daintily against the cool -ardent fruit. A lad of four or five in linseywoolsey blossomtime but -there will be cheer in the kindly hearth when ere long the bowls are -gathered and hutched is standing on the urn secured by that circle of -girlish fond hands. He frowns a little just as this young man does now -with a perhaps too conscious enjoyment of the danger but must needs -glance at whiles towards where his mother watches from the PIAZZETTA -giving upon the flowerclose with a faint shadow of remoteness or of -reproach ALLES VERGANGLICHE in her glad look. -Mark this farther and remember. The end comes suddenly. Enter that -antechamber of birth where the studious are assembled and note their -faces. Nothing, as it seems, there of rash or violent. Quietude of -custody, rather, befitting their station in that house, the vigilant -watch of shepherds and of angels about a crib in Bethlehem of Juda long -ago. But as before the lightning the serried stormclouds, heavy with -preponderant excess of moisture, in swollen masses turgidly distended, -compass earth and sky in one vast slumber, impending above parched field -and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an -instant a flash rives their centres and with the reverberation of the -thunder the cloudburst pours its torrent, so and not otherwise was the -transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon the utterance of the -word. -Burke's outflings my lord Stephen, giving the cry, and a tag and bobtail -of all them after, cockerel, jackanapes, welsher, pilldoctor, punctual -Bloom at heels with a universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, bilbos, -Panama hats and scabbards, Zermatt alpenstocks and what not. A dedale of -lusty youth, noble every student there. Nurse Callan taken aback in the -hallway cannot stay them nor smiling surgeon coming downstairs with news -of placentation ended, a full pound if a milligramme. They hark him on. -The door It is open? Ha They are out, tumultuously, off for a minute's -race, all bravely legging it, Burke's of Denzille and Holles their -ulterior goal. Dixon follows giving them sharp language but raps out an -oath, he too, and on. Bloom stays with nurse a thought to send a kind -word to happy mother and nurseling up there. Doctor Diet and Doctor -Quiet. Looks she too not other now? Ward of watching in Horne's house has -told its tale in that washedout pallor. Then all being gone, a glance of -motherwit helping, he whispers close in going Madam, when comes the -storkbird for thee? -The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, life essence -celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny COELUM. God's -air, the Allfather's air, scintillant circumambient cessile air. Breathe -it deep into thee. By heaven, Theodore Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty -deed and no botch Thou art, I vow, the remarkablest progenitor barring -none in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle. -Astounding In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which -thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Cleave to her -Serve Toil on, labour like a very bandog and let scholarment and all -Malthusiasts go hang. Thou art all their daddies, Theodore. Art drooping -under thy load, bemoiled with butcher's bills at home and ingots not -thine in the countinghouse? Head up For every newbegotten thou shalt -gather thy homer of ripe wheat. See, thy fleece is drenched. Dost envy -Darby Dullman there with his Joan? A canting jay and a rheumeyed curdog -is all their progeny. Pshaw, I tell thee He is a mule, a dead -gasteropod, without vim or stamina, not worth a cracked kreutzer. -Copulation without population No, say I Herod's slaughter of the -innocents were the truer name. Vegetables, forsooth, and sterile -cohabitation Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding She is a hoary -pandemonium of ills, enlarged glands, mumps, quinsy, bunions, hayfever, -bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, warts, bilious -attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. A truce to threnes and -trentals and jeremies and all such congenital defunctive music Twenty -years of it, regret them not. With thee it was not as with many that will -and would and wait and neverdo. Thou sawest thy America, thy lifetask, -and didst charge to cover like the transpontine bison. How saith -Zarathustra? DEINE KUH TRUBSAL MELKEST DU. NUN TRINKST DU DIE SUSSE MILCH -DES EUTERS. See it displodes for thee in abundance. Drink, man, an -udderful Mother's milk, Purefoy, the milk of human kin, milk too of -those burgeoning stars overhead rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, -such as those rioters will quaff in their guzzling den, milk of madness, -the honeymilk of Canaan's land. Thy cow's dug was tough, what? Ay, but -her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. No dollop this but thick rich -bonnyclaber. To her, old patriarch Pap PER DEAM PARTULAM ET PERTUNDAM -NUNC EST BIBENDUM -All off for a buster, armstrong, hollering down the street. Bonafides. -Where you slep las nigh? Timothy of the battered naggin. Like ole Billyo. -Any brollies or gumboots in the fambly? Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones -and ole clo? Sorra one o' me knows. Hurrah there, Dix Forward to the -ribbon counter. Where's Punch? All serene. Jay, look at the drunken -minister coming out of the maternity hospal BENEDICAT VOS OMNIPOTENS -DEUS, PATER ET FILIUS. A make, mister. The Denzille lane boys. Hell, -blast ye Scoot. Righto, Isaacs, shove em out of the bleeding limelight. -Yous join uz, dear sir? No hentrusion in life. Lou heap good man. Allee -samee dis bunch. EN AVANT, MES ENFANTS Fire away number one on the gun. -Burke's Burke's Thence they advanced five parasangs. Slattery's mounted -foot. Where's that bleeding awfur? Parson Steve, apostates' creed No, -no, Mulligan Abaft there Shove ahead. Keep a watch on the clock. -Chuckingout time. Mullee What's on you? MA MERE M'A MARIEE. British -Beatitudes RETAMPLATAN DIGIDI BOUMBOUM. Ayes have it. To be printed and -bound at the Druiddrum press by two designing females. Calf covers of -pissedon green. Last word in art shades. Most beautiful book come out of -Ireland my time. SILENTIUM Get a spurt on. Tention. Proceed to nearest -canteen and there annex liquor stores. March Tramp, tramp, tramp, the -boys are atitudes parching. Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs -battleships, buggery and bishops. Whether on the scaffold high. Beer, -beef, trample the bibles. When for Irelandear. Trample the trampellers. -Thunderation Keep the durned millingtary step. We fall. Bishops -boosebox. Halt Heave to. Rugger. Scrum in. No touch kicking. Wow, my -tootsies You hurt? Most amazingly sorry -Query. Who's astanding this here do? Proud possessor of damnall. Declare -misery. Bet to the ropes. Me nantee saltee. Not a red at me this week -gone. Yours? Mead of our fathers for the UBERMENSCH. Dittoh. Five number -ones. You, sir? Ginger cordial. Chase me, the cabby's caudle. Stimulate -the caloric. Winding of his ticker. Stopped short never to go again when -the old. Absinthe for me, savvy? CARAMBA Have an eggnog or a prairie -oyster. Enemy? Avuncular's got my timepiece. Ten to. Obligated awful. -Don't mention it. Got a pectoral trauma, eh, Dix? Pos fact. Got bet be a -boomblebee whenever he wus settin sleepin in hes bit garten. Digs up near -the Mater. Buckled he is. Know his dona? Yup, sartin I do. Full of a -dure. See her in her dishybilly. Peels off a credit. Lovey lovekin. None -of your lean kine, not much. Pull down the blind, love. Two Ardilauns. -Same here. Look slippery. If you fall don't wait to get up. Five, seven, -nine. Fine Got a prime pair of mincepies, no kid. And her take me to -rests and her anker of rum. Must be seen to be believed. Your starving -eyes and allbeplastered neck you stole my heart, O gluepot. Sir? Spud -again the rheumatiz? All poppycock, you'll scuse me saying. For the hoi -polloi. I vear thee beest a gert vool. Well, doc? Back fro Lapland? Your -corporosity sagaciating O K? How's the squaws and papooses? Womanbody -after going on the straw? Stand and deliver. Password. There's hair. Ours -the white death and the ruddy birth. Hi Spit in your own eye, boss -Mummer's wire. Cribbed out of Meredith. Jesified, orchidised, polycimical -jesuit Aunty mine's writing Pa Kinch. Baddybad Stephen lead astray -goodygood Malachi. -Hurroo Collar the leather, youngun. Roun wi the nappy. Here, Jock braw -Hielentman's your barleybree. Lang may your lum reek and your kailpot -boil My tipple. MERCI. Here's to us. How's that? Leg before wicket. -Don't stain my brandnew sitinems. Give's a shake of peppe, you there. -Catch aholt. Caraway seed to carry away. Twig? Shrieks of silence. Every -cove to his gentry mort. Venus Pandemos. LES PETITES FEMMES. Bold bad -girl from the town of Mullingar. Tell her I was axing at her. Hauding -Sara by the wame. On the road to Malahide. Me? If she who seduced me had -left but the name. What do you want for ninepence? Machree, macruiskeen. -Smutty Moll for a mattress jig. And a pull all together. EX -Waiting, guvnor? Most deciduously. Bet your boots on. Stunned like, -seeing as how no shiners is acoming. Underconstumble? He've got the chink -AD LIB. Seed near free poun on un a spell ago a said war hisn. Us come -right in on your invite, see? Up to you, matey. Out with the oof. Two bar -and a wing. You larn that go off of they there Frenchy bilks? Won't wash -here for nuts nohow. Lil chile velly solly. Ise de cutest colour coon -down our side. Gawds teruth, Chawley. We are nae fou. We're nae tha fou. -Au reservoir, mossoo. Tanks you. -'Tis, sure. What say? In the speakeasy. Tight. I shee you, shir. Bantam, -two days teetee. Bowsing nowt but claretwine. Garn Have a glint, do. -Gum, I'm jiggered. And been to barber he have. Too full for words. With a -railway bloke. How come you so? Opera he'd like? Rose of Castile. Rows of -cast. Police Some HO for a gent fainted. Look at Bantam's flowers. -Gemini. He's going to holler. The colleen bawn. My colleen bawn. O, -cheese it Shut his blurry Dutch oven with a firm hand. Had the winner -today till I tipped him a dead cert. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen -Hand as give me the jady coppaleen. He strike a telegramboy paddock wire -big bug Bass to the depot. Shove him a joey and grahamise. Mare on form -hot order. Guinea to a goosegog. Tell a cram, that. Gospeltrue. Criminal -diversion? I think that yes. Sure thing. Land him in chokeechokee if the -harman beck copped the game. Madden back Madden's a maddening back. O -lust our refuge and our strength. Decamping. Must you go? Off to mammy. -Stand by. Hide my blushes someone. All in if he spots me. Come ahome, our -Bantam. Horryvar, mong vioo. Dinna forget the cowslips for hersel. -Cornfide. Wha gev ye thon colt? Pal to pal. Jannock. Of John Thomas, her -spouse. No fake, old man Leo. S'elp me, honest injun. Shiver my timbers -if I had. There's a great big holy friar. Vyfor you no me tell? Vel, I -ses, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I vil get misha mishinnah. -Through yerd our lord, Amen. -You move a motion? Steve boy, you're going it some. More bluggy -drunkables? Will immensely splendiferous stander permit one stooder of -most extreme poverty and one largesize grandacious thirst to terminate -one expensive inaugurated libation? Give's a breather. Landlord, -landlord, have you good wine, staboo? Hoots, mon, a wee drap to pree. Cut -and come again. Right. Boniface Absinthe the lot. NOS OMNES BIBERIMUS -VIRIDUM TOXICUM DIABOLUS CAPIAT POSTERIORIA NOSTRIA. Closingtime, gents. -Eh? Rome boose for the Bloom toff. I hear you say onions? Bloo? Cadges -ads. Photo's papli, by all that's gorgeous. Play low, pardner. Slide. -BONSOIR LA COMPAGNIE. And snares of the poxfiend. Where's the buck and -Namby Amby? Skunked? Leg bail. Aweel, ye maun e'en gang yer gates. -Checkmate. King to tower. Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend -tuk bungellow kee tu find plais whear tu lay crown of his hed night. -Crickey, I'm about sprung. Tarnally dog gone my shins if this beent the -bestest puttiest longbreak yet. Item, curate, couple of cookies for this -child. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none Not a pite of sheeses? Thrust -syphilis down to hell and with him those other licensed spirits. Time, -gents Who wander through the world. Health all A LA VOTRE -Golly, whatten tunket's yon guy in the mackintosh? Dusty Rhodes. Peep at -his wearables. By mighty What's he got? Jubilee mutton. Bovril, by -James. Wants it real bad. D'ye ken bare socks? Seedy cuss in the -Richmond? Rawthere Thought he had a deposit of lead in his penis. -Trumpery insanity. Bartle the Bread we calls him. That, sir, was once a -prosperous cit. Man all tattered and torn that married a maiden all -forlorn. Slung her hook, she did. Here see lost love. Walking Mackintosh -of lonely canyon. Tuck and turn in. Schedule time. Nix for the hornies. -Pardon? Seen him today at a runefal? Chum o' yourn passed in his checks? -Ludamassy Pore piccaninnies Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg -Did ums blubble bigsplash crytears cos fren Padney was took off in black -bag? Of all de darkies Massa Pat was verra best. I never see the like -since I was born. TIENS, TIENS, but it is well sad, that, my faith, yes. -O, get, rev on a gradient one in nine. Live axle drives are souped. Lay -you two to one Jenatzy licks him ruddy well hollow. Jappies? High angle -fire, inyah Sunk by war specials. Be worse for him, says he, nor any -Rooshian. Time all. There's eleven of them. Get ye gone. Forward, woozy -wobblers Night. Night. May Allah the Excellent One your soul this night -ever tremendously conserve. -Your attention We're nae tha fou. The Leith police dismisseth us. The -least tholice. Ware hawks for the chap puking. Unwell in his abominable -regions. Yooka. Night. Mona, my true love. Yook. Mona, my own love. Ook. -Hark Shut your obstropolos. Pflaap Pflaap Blaze on. There she goes. -Brigade Bout ship. Mount street way. Cut up Pflaap Tally ho. You not -come? Run, skelter, race. Pflaaaap -Lynch Hey? Sign on long o' me. Denzille lane this way. Change here for -Bawdyhouse. We two, she said, will seek the kips where shady Mary is. -Righto, any old time. LAETABUNTUR IN CUBILIBUS SUIS. You coming long? -Whisper, who the sooty hell's the johnny in the black duds? Hush Sinned -against the light and even now that day is at hand when he shall come to -judge the world by fire. Pflaap UT IMPLERENTUR SCRIPTURAE. Strike up a -ballad. Then outspake medical Dick to his comrade medical Davy. -Christicle, who's this excrement yellow gospeller on the Merrion hall? -Elijah is coming Washed in the blood of the Lamb. Come on you -winefizzling, ginsizzling, booseguzzling existences Come on, you dog -gone, bullnecked, beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed -fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage Come on, you triple -extract of infamy Alexander J Christ Dowie, that's my name, that's -yanked to glory most half this planet from Frisco beach to Vladivostok. -The Deity aint no nickel dime bumshow. I put it to you that He's on the -square and a corking fine business proposition. He's the grandest thing -yet and don't you forget it. Shout salvation in King Jesus. You'll need -to rise precious early you sinner there, if you want to diddle the -Almighty God. Pflaaaap Not half. He's got a coughmixture with a punch in -it for you, my friend, in his back pocket. Just you try it on. -THE MABBOT STREET ENTRANCE OF NIGHTTOWN, BEFORE WHICH STRETCHES AN -UNCOBBLED TRAMSIDING SET WITH SKELETON TRACKS, RED AND GREEN WILLO'THE -WISPS AND DANGER SIGNALS. ROWS OF GRIMY HOUSES WITH GAPING DOORS. RARE -LAMPS WITH FAINT RAINBOW FINS. ROUND RABAIOTTI'S HALTED ICE GONDOLA -STUNTED MEN AND WOMEN SQUABBLE. THEY GRAB WAFERS BETWEEN WHICH ARE WEDGED -LUMPS OF CORAL AND COPPER SNOW. SUCKING, THEY SCATTER SLOWLY. CHILDREN. -THE SWANCOMB OF THE GONDOLA, HIGHREARED, FORGES ON THROUGH THE MURK, -WHITE AND BLUE UNDER A LIGHTHOUSE. WHISTLES CALL AND ANSWER. -THE CALLS Wait, my love, and I'll be with you. -THE ANSWERS Round behind the stable. -A DEAFMUTE IDIOT WITH GOGGLE EYES, HIS SHAPELESS MOUTH DRIBBLING, JERKS -PAST, SHAKEN IN SAINT VITUS' DANCE. A CHAIN OF CHILDREN 'S HANDS -IMPRISONS HIM. -THE CHILDREN Kithogue Salute -THE IDIOT LIFTS A PALSIED LEFT ARM AND GURGLES Grhahute -THE CHILDREN Where's the great light? -THE IDIOT GOBBING Ghaghahest. -THEY RELEASE HIM. HE JERKS ON. A PIGMY WOMAN SWINGS ON A ROPE SLUNG -BETWEEN TWO RAILINGS, COUNTING. A FORM SPRAWLED AGAINST A DUSTBIN AND -MUFFLED BY ITS ARM AND HAT SNORES, GROANS, GRINDING GROWLING TEETH, AND -SNORES AGAIN. ON A STEP A GNOME TOTTING AMONG A RUBBISHTIP CROUCHES TO -SHOULDER A SACK OF RAGS AND BONES. A CRONE STANDING BY WITH A SMOKY -OILLAMP RAMS HER LAST BOTTLE IN THE MAW OF HIS SACK. HE HEAVES HIS BOOTY, -TUGS ASKEW HIS PEAKED CAP AND HOBBLES OFF MUTELY. THE CRONE MAKES BACK -FOR HER LAIR, SWAYING HER LAMP. A BANDY CHILD, ASQUAT ON THE DOORSTEP -WITH A PAPER SHUTTLECOCK, CRAWLS SIDLING AFTER HER IN SPURTS, CLUTCHES -HER SKIRT, SCRAMBLES UP. A DRUNKEN NAVVY GRIPS WITH BOTH HANDS THE -RAILINGS OF AN AREA, LURCHING HEAVILY. AT A COMER TWO NIGHT WATCH IN -SHOULDERCAPES, THEIR HANDS UPON THEIR STAFFHOLSTERS, LOOM TALL. A PLATE -CRASHES A WOMAN SCREAMS A CHILD WAILS. OATHS OF A MAN ROAR, MUTTER, -CEASE. FIGURES WANDER, LURK, PEER FROM WARRENS. IN A ROOM LIT BY A CANDLE -STUCK IN A BOTTLENECK A SLUT COMBS OUT THE TATTS FROM THE HAIR OF A -SCROFULOUS CHILD. CISSY CAFFREY'S VOICE, STILL YOUNG, SINGS SHRILL FROM A -LANE. -CISSY CAFFREY -I GAVE IT TO MOLLY -BECAUSE SHE WAS JOLLY, -THE LEG OF THE DUCK, -THE LEG OF THE DUCK. -PRIVATE CARR AND PRIVATE COMPTON, SWAGGERSTICKS TIGHT IN THEIR OXTERS, -AS THEY MARCH UNSTEADILY RIGHTABOUTFACE AND BURST TOGETHER FROM THEIR -MOUTHS A VOLLEYED FART. LAUGHTER OF MEN FROM THE LANE. A HOARSE VIRAGO -RETORTS. -THE VIRAGO Signs on you, hairy arse. More power the Cavan girl. -CISSY CAFFREY More luck to me. Cavan, Cootehill and Belturbet. SHE -SINGS -I GAVE IT TO NELLY -TO STICK IN HER BELLY, -THE LEG OF THE DUCK, -THE LEG OF THE DUCK. -PRIVATE CARR AND PRIVATE COMPTON TURN AND COUNTERRETORT, THEIR TUNICS -BLOODBRIGHT IN A LAMPGLOW, BLACK SOCKETS OF CAPS ON THEIR BLOND CROPPED -POLLS. STEPHEN DEDALUS AND LYNCH PASS THROUGH THE CROWD CLOSE TO THE -REDCOATS. -PRIVATE COMPTON JERKS HIS FINGER Way for the parson. -PRIVATE CARR TURNS AND CALLS What ho, parson -CISSY CAFFREY HER VOICE SOARING HIGHER -SHE HAS IT, SHE GOT IT, -WHEREVER SHE PUT IT, -THE LEG OF THE DUCK. -STEPHEN, FLOURISHING THE ASHPLANT IN HIS LEFT HAND, CHANTS WITH JOY THE -INTROIT FOR PASCHAL TIME. LYNCH, HIS JOCKEYCAP LOW ON HIS BROW, ATTENDS -HIM, A SNEER OF DISCONTENT WRINKLING HIS FACE. -STEPHEN VIDI AQUAM EGREDIENTEM DE TEMPLO A LATERE DEXTRO. ALLELUIA. -THE FAMISHED SNAGGLETUSKS OF AN ELDERLY BAWD PROTRUDE FROM A DOORWAY. -THE BAWD HER VOICE WHISPERING HUSKILY Sst Come here till I tell you. -Maidenhead inside. Sst -STEPHEN ALTIUS ALIQUANTULUM ET OMNES AD QUOS PERVENIT AQUA ISTA. -THE BAWD SPITS IN THEIR TRAIL HER JET OF VENOM Trinity medicals. -Fallopian tube. All prick and no pence. -EDY BOARDMAN, SNIFFLING, CROUCHED WITH BERTHA SUPPLE, DRAWS HER SHAWL -ACROSS HER NOSTRILS. -EDY BOARDMAN BICKERING And says the one I seen you up Faithful place -with your squarepusher, the greaser off the railway, in his cometobed -hat. Did you, says I. That's not for you to say, says I. You never seen -me in the mantrap with a married highlander, says I. The likes of her -Stag that one is Stubborn as a mule And her walking with two fellows -the one time, Kilbride, the enginedriver, and lancecorporal Oliphant. -STEPHEN TRIUMPHALITER SALVI FACTI SUNT. -HE FLOURISHES HIS ASHPLANT, SHIVERING THE LAMP IMAGE, SHATTERING LIGHT -OVER THE WORLD. A LIVER AND WHITE SPANIEL ON THE PROWL SLINKS AFTER HIM, -GROWLING. LYNCH SCARES IT WITH A KICK. -LYNCH So that? -STEPHEN LOOKS BEHIND So that gesture, not music not odour, would be a -universal language, the gift of tongues rendering visible not the lay -sense but the first entelechy, the structural rhythm. -LYNCH Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street -STEPHEN We have shrewridden Shakespeare and henpecked Socrates. Even the -allwisest Stagyrite was bitted, bridled and mounted by a light of love. -LYNCH Ba -STEPHEN Anyway, who wants two gestures to illustrate a loaf and a jug? -This movement illustrates the loaf and jug of bread or wine in Omar. Hold -my stick. -LYNCH Damn your yellow stick. Where are we going? -STEPHEN Lecherous lynx, TO LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI, Georgina Johnson, -AD DEAM QUI LAETIFICAT IUVENTUTEM MEAM. -STEPHEN THRUSTS THE ASHPLANT ON HIM AND SLOWLY HOLDS OUT HIS HANDS, HIS -HEAD GOING BACK TILL BOTH HANDS ARE A SPAN FROM HIS BREAST, DOWN TURNED, -IN PLANES INTERSECTING, THE FINGERS ABOUT TO PART, THE LEFT BEING -HIGHER. -LYNCH Which is the jug of bread? It skills not. That or the customhouse. -Illustrate thou. Here take your crutch and walk. -THEY PASS. TOMMY CAFFREY SCRAMBLES TO A GASLAMP AND, CLASPING, CLIMBS IN -SPASMS. FROM THE TOP SPUR HE SLIDES DOWN. JACKY CAFFREY CLASPS TO CLIMB. -THE NAVVY LURCHES AGAINST THE LAMP. THE TWINS SCUTTLE OFF IN THE DARK. -THE NAVVY, SWAYING, PRESSES A FOREFINGER AGAINST A WING OF HIS NOSE AND -EJECTS FROM THE FARTHER NOSTRIL A LONG LIQUID JET OF SNOT. SHOULDERING -THE LAMP HE STAGGERS AWAY THROUGH THE CROWD WITH HIS FLARING CRESSET. -SNAKES OF RIVER FOG CREEP SLOWLY. FROM DRAINS, CLEFTS, CESSPOOLS, MIDDENS -ARISE ON ALL SIDES STAGNANT FUMES. A GLOW LEAPS IN THE SOUTH BEYOND THE -SEAWARD REACHES OF THE RIVER. THE NAVVY, STAGGERING FORWARD, CLEAVES THE -CROWD AND LURCHES TOWARDS THE TRAMSIDING ON THE FARTHER SIDE UNDER THE -RAILWAY BRIDGE BLOOM APPEARS, FLUSHED, PANTING, CRAMMING BREAD AND -CHOCOLATE INTO A SIDEPOCKET. FROM GILLEN'S HAIRDRESSER'S WINDOW A -COMPOSITE PORTRAIT SHOWS HIM GALLANT NELSON'S IMAGE. A CONCAVE MIRROR AT -THE SIDE PRESENTS TO HIM LOVELORN LONGLOST LUGUBRU BOOLOOHOOM. GRAVE -GLADSTONE SEES HIM LEVEL, BLOOM FOR BLOOM. HE PASSES, STRUCK BY THE STARE -OF TRUCULENT WELLINGTON, BUT IN THE CONVEX MIRROR GRIN UNSTRUCK THE -BONHAM EYES AND FATCHUCK CHEEKCHOPS OF JOLLYPOLDY THE RIXDIX DOLDY. -AT ANTONIO PABAIOTTI'S DOOR BLOOM HALTS, SWEATED UNDER THE BRIGHT -ARCLAMP. HE DISAPPEARS. IN A MOMENT HE REAPPEARS AND HURRIES ON. -BLOOM Fish and taters. N. g. Ah -HE DISAPPEARS INTO OLHAUSEN'S, THE PORKBUTCHER'S, UNDER THE DOWNCOMING -ROLLSHUTTER. A FEW MOMENTS LATER HE EMERGES FROM UNDER THE SHUTTER, -PUFFING POLDY, BLOWING BLOOHOOM. IN EACH HAND HE HOLDS A PARCEL, ONE -CONTAINING A LUKEWARM PIG'S CRUBEEN, THE OTHER A COLD SHEEP'S TROTTER, -SPRINKLED WITH WHOLEPEPPER. HE GASPS, STANDING UPRIGHT. THEN BENDING TO -ONE SIDE HE PRESSES A PARCEL AGAINST HIS RIBS AND GROANS. -BLOOM Stitch in my side. Why did I run? -HE TAKES BREATH WITH CARE AND GOES FORWARD SLOWLY TOWARDS THE LAMPSET -SIDING. THE GLOW LEAPS AGAIN. -BLOOM What is that? A flasher? Searchlight. -HE STANDS AT CORMACK'S CORNER, WATCHING -BLOOM AURORA BOREALIS or a steel foundry? Ah, the brigade, of course. -South side anyhow. Big blaze. Might be his house. Beggar's bush. We're -safe. HE HUMS CHEERFULLY London's burning, London's burning On fire, -on fire HE CATCHES SIGHT OF THE NAVVY LURCHING THROUGH THE CROWD AT THE -FARTHER SIDE OF TALBOT STREET I'll miss him. Run. Quick. Better cross -here. -HE DARTS TO CROSS THE ROAD. URCHINS SHOUT. -THE URCHINS Mind out, mister TWO CYCLISTS, WITH LIGHTED PAPER LANTERNS -ASWING, SWIM BY HIM, GRAZING HIM, THEIR BELLS RATTLING -THE BELLS Haltyaltyaltyall. -BLOOM HALTS ERECT, STUNG BY A SPASM Ow -HE LOOKS ROUND, DARTS FORWARD SUDDENLY. THROUGH RISING FOG A DRAGON -SANDSTREWER, TRAVELLING AT CAUTION, SLEWS HEAVILY DOWN UPON HIM, ITS HUGE -RED HEADLIGHT WINKING, ITS TROLLEY HISSING ON THE WIRE. THE MOTORMAN -BANGS HIS FOOTGONG. -THE GONG Bang Bang Bla Bak Blud Bugg Bloo. -THE BRAKE CRACKS VIOLENTLY. BLOOM, RAISING A POLICEMAN'S WHITEGLOVED -HAND, BLUNDERS STIFFLEGGED OUT OF THE TRACK. THE MOTORMAN, THROWN -FORWARD, PUGNOSED, ON THE GUIDEWHEEL, YELLS AS HE SLIDES PAST OVER CHAINS -AND KEYS. -THE MOTORMAN Hey, shitbreeches, are you doing the hat trick? -BLOOM BLOOM TRICKLEAPS TO THE CURBSTONE AND HALTS AGAIN. HE BRUSHES A -MUDFLAKE FROM HIS CHEEK WITH A PARCELLED HAND. No thoroughfare. Close -shave that but cured the stitch. Must take up Sandow's exercises again. -On the hands down. Insure against street accident too. The Providential. -HE FEELS HIS TROUSER POCKET Poor mamma's panacea. Heel easily catch in -track or bootlace in a cog. Day the wheel of the black Maria peeled off -my shoe at Leonard's corner. Third time is the charm. Shoe trick. -Insolent driver. I ought to report him. Tension makes them nervous. Might -be the fellow balked me this morning with that horsey woman. Same style -of beauty. Quick of him all the same. The stiff walk. True word spoken in -jest. That awful cramp in Lad lane. Something poisonous I ate. Emblem of -luck. Why? Probably lost cattle. Mark of the beast. HE CLOSES HIS EYES -AN INSTANT Bit light in the head. Monthly or effect of the other. -Brainfogfag. That tired feeling. Too much for me now. Ow -A SINISTER FIGURE LEANS ON PLAITED LEGS AGAINST O'BEIRNE'S WALL, A -VISAGE UNKNOWN, INJECTED WITH DARK MERCURY. FROM UNDER A WIDELEAVED -SOMBRERO THE FIGURE REGARDS HIM WITH EVIL EYE. -BLOOM BUENAS NOCHES, SENORITA BLANCA. QUE CALLE ES ESTA? -THE FIGURE IMPASSIVE, RAISES A SIGNAL ARM Password. SRAID MABBOT. -BLOOM Haha. MERCI. Esperanto. SLAN LEATH. HE MUTTERS Gaelic league -spy, sent by that fireeater. -HE STEPS FORWARD. A SACKSHOULDERED RAGMAN BARS HIS PATH. HE STEPS LEFT, -RAGSACKMAN LEFT. -BLOOM I beg. HE SWERVES, SIDLES, STEPASIDE, SLIPS PAST AND ON. -BLOOM Keep to the right, right, right. If there is a signpost planted by -the Touring Club at Stepaside who procured that public boon? I who lost -my way and contributed to the columns of the IRISH CYCLIST the letter -headed IN DARKEST STEPASIDE. Keep, keep, keep to the right. Rags and -bones at midnight. A fence more likely. First place murderer makes for. -Wash off his sins of the world. -JACKY CAFFREY, HUNTED BY TOMMY CAFFREY, RUNS FULL TILT AGAINST BLOOM. -BLOOM O -SHOCKED, ON WEAK HAMS, HE HALTS. TOMMY AND JACKY VANISH THERE, THERE. -BLOOM PATS WITH PARCELLED HANDS WATCH FOBPOCKET, BOOKPOCKET, PURSEPOKET, -SWEETS OF SIN, POTATO SOAP. -BLOOM Beware of pickpockets. Old thieves' dodge. Collide. Then snatch -your purse. -THE RETRIEVER APPROACHES SNIFFING, NOSE TO THE GROUND. A SPRAWLED FORM -SNEEZES. A STOOPED BEARDED FIGURE APPEARS GARBED IN THE LONG CAFTAN OF AN -ELDER IN ZION AND A SMOKINGCAP WITH MAGENTA TASSELS. HORNED SPECTACLES -HANG DOWN AT THE WINGS OF THE NOSE. YELLOW POISON STREAKS ARE ON THE -DRAWN FACE. -RUDOLPH Second halfcrown waste money today. I told you not go with -drunken goy ever. So you catch no money. -BLOOM HIDES THE CRUBEEN AND TROTTER BEHIND HIS BACK AND, CRESTFALLEN, -FEELS WARM AND COLD FEETMEAT JA, ICH WEISS, PAPACHI. -RUDOLPH What you making down this place? Have you no soul? WITH FEEBLE -VULTURE TALONS HE FEELS THE SILENT FACE OF BLOOM Are you not my son -Leopold, the grandson of Leopold? Are you not my dear son Leopold who -left the house of his father and left the god of his fathers Abraham and -Jacob? -BLOOM WITH PRECAUTION I suppose so, father. Mosenthal. All that's left -of him. -RUDOLPH SEVERELY One night they bring you home drunk as dog after -spend your good money. What you call them running chaps? -BLOOM IN YOUTH'S SMART BLUE OXFORD SUIT WITH WHITE VESTSLIPS, -NARROWSHOULDERED, IN BROWN ALPINE HAT, WEARING GENT'S STERLING SILVER -WATERBURY KEYLESS WATCH AND DOUBLE CURB ALBERT WITH SEAL ATTACHED, ONE -SIDE OF HIM COATED WITH STIFFENING MUD Harriers, father. Only that once. -RUDOLPH Once Mud head to foot. Cut your hand open. Lockjaw. They make -you kaputt, Leopoldleben. You watch them chaps. -BLOOM WEAKLY They challenged me to a sprint. It was muddy. I slipped. -RUDOLPH WITH CONTEMPT GOIM NACHEZ Nice spectacles for your poor -mother -BLOOM Mamma -ELLEN BLOOM IN PANTOMIME DAME'S STRINGED MOBCAP, WIDOW TWANKEY'S -CRINOLINE AND BUSTLE, BLOUSE WITH MUTTONLEG SLEEVES BUTTONED BEHIND, GREY -MITTENS AND CAMEO BROOCH, HER PLAITED HAIR IN A CRISPINE NET, APPEARS -OVER THE STAIRCASE BANISTERS, A SLANTED CANDLESTICK IN HER HAND, AND -CRIES OUT IN SHRILL ALARM O blessed Redeemer, what have they done to -him My smelling salts SHE HAULS UP A REEF OF SKIRT AND RANSACKS THE -POUCH OF HER STRIPED BLAY PETTICOAT. A PHIAL, AN AGNUS DEI, A SHRIVELLED -POTATO AND A CELLULOID DOLL FALL OUT Sacred Heart of Mary, where were -you at all at all? -BLOOM, MUMBLING, HIS EYES DOWNCAST, BEGINS TO BESTOW HIS PARCELS IN HIS -FILLED POCKETS BUT DESISTS, MUTTERING. -A VOICE SHARPLY Poldy -BLOOM Who? HE DUCKS AND WARDS OFF A BLOW CLUMSILY At your service. -HE LOOKS UP. BESIDE HER MIRAGE OF DATEPALMS A HANDSOME WOMAN IN TURKISH -COSTUME STANDS BEFORE HIM. OPULENT CURVES FILL OUT HER SCARLET TROUSERS -AND JACKET, SLASHED WITH GOLD. A WIDE YELLOW CUMMERBUND GIRDLES HER. A -WHITE YASHMAK, VIOLET IN THE NIGHT, COVERS HER FACE, LEAVING FREE ONLY -HER LARGE DARK EYES AND RAVEN HAIR. -BLOOM Molly -MARION Welly? Mrs Marion from this out, my dear man, when you speak to -me. SATIRICALLY Has poor little hubby cold feet waiting so long? -BLOOM SHIFTS FROM FOOT TO FOOT No, no. Not the least little bit. -HE BREATHES IN DEEP AGITATION, SWALLOWING GULPS OF AIR, QUESTIONS, -HOPES, CRUBEENS FOR HER SUPPER, THINGS TO TELL HER, EXCUSE, DESIRE, -SPELLBOUND. A COIN GLEAMS ON HER FOREHEAD. ON HER FEET ARE JEWELLED -TOERINGS. HER ANKLES ARE LINKED BY A SLENDER FETTERCHAIN. BESIDE HER A -CAMEL, HOODED WITH A TURRETING TURBAN, WAITS. A SILK LADDER OF -INNUMERABLE RUNGS CLIMBS TO HIS BOBBING HOWDAH. HE AMBLES NEAR WITH -DISGRUNTLED HINDQUARTERS. FIERCELY SHE SLAPS HIS HAUNCH, HER GOLDCURB -WRISTBANGLES ANGRILING, SCOLDING HIM IN MOORISH. -MARION Nebrakada Femininum -THE CAMEL, LIFTING A FORELEG, PLUCKS FROM A TREE A LARGE MANGO FRUIT, -OFFERS IT TO HIS MISTRESS, BLINKING, IN HIS CLOVEN HOOF, THEN DROOPS HIS -HEAD AND, GRUNTING, WITH UPLIFTED NECK, FUMBLES TO KNEEL. BLOOM STOOPS -HIS BACK FOR LEAPFROG. -BLOOM I can give you ... I mean as your business menagerer ... Mrs -Marion ... if you ... -MARION So you notice some change? HER HANDS PASSING SLOWLY OVER HER -TRINKETED STOMACHER, A SLOW FRIENDLY MOCKERY IN HER EYES O Poldy, Poldy, -you are a poor old stick in the mud Go and see life. See the wide world. -BLOOM I was just going back for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower -water. Shop closes early on Thursday. But the first thing in the morning. -HE PATS DIVERS POCKETS This moving kidney. Ah -HE POINTS TO THE SOUTH, THEN TO THE EAST. A CAKE OF NEW CLEAN LEMON SOAP -ARISES, DIFFUSING LIGHT AND PERFUME. -THE SOAP -We're a capital couple are Bloom and I. -He brightens the earth. I polish the sky. -THE FRECKLED FACE OF SWENY, THE DRUGGIST, APPEARS IN THE DISC OF THE -SOAPSUN. -SWENY Three and a penny, please. -BLOOM Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe. -MARION SOFTLY Poldy -BLOOM Yes, ma'am? -MARION TI TREMA UN POCO IL CUORE? -IN DISDAIN SHE SAUNTERS AWAY, PLUMP AS A PAMPERED POUTER PIGEON, HUMMING -THE DUET FROM Don Giovanni. -BLOOM Are you sure about that VOGLIO? I mean the pronunciati ... -HE FOLLOWS, FOLLOWED BY THE SNIFFING TERRIER. THE ELDERLY BAWD SEIZES -HIS SLEEVE, THE BRISTLES OF HER CHINMOLE GLITTERING. -THE BAWD Ten shillings a maidenhead. Fresh thing was never touched. -Fifteen. There's noone in it only her old father that's dead drunk. -SHE POINTS. IN THE GAP OF HER DARK DEN FURTIVE, RAINBEDRAGGLED, BRIDIE -KELLY STANDS. -BRIDIE Hatch street. Any good in your mind? -WITH A SQUEAK SHE FLAPS HER BAT SHAWL AND RUNS. A BURLY ROUGH PURSUES -WITH BOOTED STRIDES. HE STUMBLES ON THE STEPS, RECOVERS, PLUNGES INTO -GLOOM. WEAK SQUEAKS OF LAUGHTER ARE HEARD, WEAKER. -THE BAWD HER WOLFEYES SHINING He's getting his pleasure. You won't get -a virgin in the flash houses. Ten shillings. Don't be all night before -the polis in plain clothes sees us. Sixtyseven is a bitch. -LEERING, GERTY MACDOWELL LIMPS FORWARD. SHE DRAWS FROM BEHIND, OGLING, -AND SHOWS COYLY HER BLOODIED CLOUT. -GERTY With all my worldly goods I thee and thou. SHE MURMURS You did -that. I hate you. -BLOOM I? When? You're dreaming. I never saw you. -THE BAWD Leave the gentleman alone, you cheat. Writing the gentleman -false letters. Streetwalking and soliciting. Better for your mother take -the strap to you at the bedpost, hussy like you. -GERTY TO BLOOM When you saw all the secrets of my bottom drawer. SHE -PAWS HIS SLEEVE, SLOBBERING Dirty married man I love you for doing that -to me. -SHE GLIDES AWAY CROOKEDLY. MRS BREEN IN MAN'S FRIEZE OVERCOAT WITH LOOSE -BELLOWS POCKETS, STANDS IN THE CAUSEWAY, HER ROGUISH EYES WIDEOPEN, -SMILING IN ALL HER HERBIVOROUS BUCKTEETH. -MRS BREEN Mr ... -BLOOM COUGHS GRAVELY Madam, when we last had this pleasure by letter -dated the sixteenth instant ... -MRS BREEN Mr Bloom You down here in the haunts of sin I caught you -nicely Scamp -BLOOM HURRIEDLY Not so loud my name. Whatever do you think of me? -Don't give me away. Walls have ears. How do you do? It's ages since I. -You're looking splendid. Absolutely it. Seasonable weather we are having -this time of year. Black refracts heat. Short cut home here. Interesting -quarter. Rescue of fallen women. Magdalen asylum. I am the secretary ... -MRS BREEN HOLDS UP A FINGER Now, don't tell a big fib I know somebody -won't like that. O just wait till I see Molly SLILY Account for -yourself this very sminute or woe betide you -BLOOM LOOKS BEHIND She often said she'd like to visit. Slumming. The -exotic, you see. Negro servants in livery too if she had money. Othello -black brute. Eugene Stratton. Even the bones and cornerman at the -Livermore christies. Bohee brothers. Sweep for that matter. -TOM AND SAM BOHEE, COLOURED COONS IN WHITE DUCK SUITS, SCARLET SOCKS, -UPSTARCHED SAMBO CHOKERS AND LARGE SCARLET ASTERS IN THEIR BUTTONHOLES, -LEAP OUT. EACH HAS HIS BANJO SLUNG. THEIR PALER SMALLER NEGROID HANDS -JINGLE THE TWINGTWANG WIRES. FLASHING WHITE KAFFIR EYES AND TUSKS THEY -RATTLE THROUGH A BREAKDOWN IN CLUMSY CLOGS, TWINGING, SINGING, BACK TO -BACK, TOE HEEL, HEEL TOE, WITH SMACKFATCLACKING NIGGER LIPS. -TOM AND SAM -There's someone in the house with Dina -There's someone in the house, I know, -There's someone in the house with Dina -Playing on the old banjo. -THEY WHISK BLACK MASKS FROM RAW BABBY FACES THEN, CHUCKLING, CHORTLING, -TRUMMING, TWANGING, THEY DIDDLE DIDDLE CAKEWALK DANCE AWAY. -BLOOM WITH A SOUR TENDERISH SMILE A little frivol, shall we, if you -are so inclined? Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a -fraction of a second? -MRS BREEN SCREAMS GAILY O, you ruck You ought to see yourself -BLOOM For old sake' sake. I only meant a square party, a mixed marriage -mingling of our different little conjugials. You know I had a soft corner -for you. GLOOMILY 'Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear gazelle. -MRS BREEN Glory Alice, you do look a holy show Killing simply. SHE -PUTS OUT HER HAND INQUISITIVELY What are you hiding behind your back? -Tell us, there's a dear. -BLOOM SEIZES HER WRIST WITH HIS FREE HAND Josie Powell that was, -prettiest deb in Dublin. How time flies by Do you remember, harking back -in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina Simpson's -housewarming while they were playing the Irving Bishop game, finding the -pin blindfold and thoughtreading? Subject, what is in this snuffbox? -MRS BREEN You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic recitation -and you looked the part. You were always a favourite with the ladies. -BLOOM SQUIRE OF DAMES, IN DINNER JACKET WITH WATEREDSILK FACINGS, BLUE -MASONIC BADGE IN HIS BUTTONHOLE, BLACK BOW AND MOTHEROFPEARL STUDS, A -PRISMATIC CHAMPAGNE GLASS TILTED IN HIS HAND Ladies and gentlemen, I -give you Ireland, home and beauty. -MRS BREEN The dear dead days beyond recall. Love's old sweet song. -BLOOM MEANINGFULLY DROPPING HIS VOICE I confess I'm teapot with -curiosity to find out whether some person's something is a little teapot -at present. -MRS BREEN GUSHINGLY Tremendously teapot London's teapot and I'm -simply teapot all over me SHE RUBS SIDES WITH HIM After the parlour -mystery games and the crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase -ottoman. Under the mistletoe. Two is company. -BLOOM WEARING A PURPLE NAPOLEON HAT WITH AN AMBER HALFMOON, HIS FINGERS -AND THUMB PASSING SLOWLY DOWN TO HER SOFT MOIST MEATY PALM WHICH SHE -SURRENDERS GENTLY The witching hour of night. I took the splinter out of -this hand, carefully, slowly. TENDERLY, AS HE SLIPS ON HER FINGER A RUBY -RING LA CI DAREM LA MANO. -MRS BREEN IN A ONEPIECE EVENING FROCK EXECUTED IN MOONLIGHT BLUE, A -TINSEL SYLPH'S DIADEM ON HER BROW WITH HER DANCECARD FALLEN BESIDE HER -MOONBLUE SATIN SLIPPER, CURVES HER PALM SOFTLY, BREATHING QUICKLY VOGLIO -E NON. You're hot You're scalding The left hand nearest the heart. -BLOOM When you made your present choice they said it was beauty and the -beast. I can never forgive you for that. HIS CLENCHED FIST AT HIS BROW -Think what it means. All you meant to me then. HOARSELY Woman, it's -breaking me -DENIS BREEN, WHITETALLHATTED, WITH WISDOM HELY'S SANDWICH BOARDS, -SHUFFLES PAST THEM IN CARPET SLIPPERS, HIS DULL BEARD THRUST OUT, -MUTTERING TO RIGHT AND LEFT. LITTLE ALF BERGAN, CLOAKED IN THE PALL OF -THE ACE OF SPADES, DOGS HIM TO LEFT AND RIGHT, DOUBLED IN LAUGHTER. -ALF BERGAN POINTS JEERING AT THE SANDWICHBOARDS U. p Up. -MRS BREEN TO BLOOM High jinks below stairs. SHE GIVES HIM THE GLAD -EYE Why didn't you kiss the spot to make it well? You wanted to. -BLOOM SHOCKED Molly's best friend Could you? -MRS BREEN HER PULPY TONGUE BETWEEN HER LIPS, OFFERS A PIGEON KISS -Hnhn. The answer is a lemon. Have you a little present for me there? -BLOOM OFFHANDEDLY Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without potted -meat is incomplete. I was at LEAH. Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Trenchant -exponent of Shakespeare. Unfortunately threw away the programme. Rattling -good place round there for pigs' feet. Feel. -RICHIE GOULDING, THREE LADIES' HATS PINNED ON HIS HEAD, APPEARS WEIGHTED -TO ONE SIDE BY THE BLACK LEGAL BAG OF COLLIS AND WARD ON WHICH A SKULL -AND CROSSBONES ARE PAINTED IN WHITE LIMEWASH. HE OPENS IT AND SHOWS IT -FULL OF POLONIES, KIPPERED HERRINGS, FINDON HADDIES AND TIGHTPACKED -PILLS. -RICHIE Best value in Dub. -BALD PAT, BOTHERED BEETLE, STANDS ON THE CURBSTONE, FOLDING HIS NAPKIN, -WAITING TO WAIT. -PAT ADVANCES WITH A TILTED DISH OF SPILLSPILLING GRAVY Steak and -kidney. Bottle of lager. Hee hee hee. Wait till I wait. -RICHIE Goodgod. Inev erate inall ... -WITH HANGING HEAD HE MARCHES DOGGEDLY FORWARD. THE NAVVY, LURCHING BY, -GORES HIM WITH HIS FLAMING PRONGHORN. -RICHIE WITH A CRY OF PAIN, HIS HAND TO HIS BACK Ah Bright's Lights -BLOOM POINTS TO THE NAVVY A spy. Don't attract attention. I hate -stupid crowds. I am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament. -MRS BREEN Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and -bull story. -BLOOM I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here. -But you must never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular reason. -MRS BREEN ALL AGOG O, not for worlds. -BLOOM Let's walk on. Shall us? -MRS BREEN Let's. -THE BAWD MAKES AN UNHEEDED SIGN. BLOOM WALKS ON WITH MRS BREEN. THE -TERRIER FOLLOWS, WHINING PITEOUSLY, WAGGING HIS TAIL. -THE BAWD Jewman's melt -BLOOM IN AN OATMEAL SPORTING SUIT, A SPRIG OF WOODBINE IN THE LAPEL, -TONY BUFF SHIRT, SHEPHERD'S PLAID SAINT ANDREW'S CROSS SCARFTIE, WHITE -SPATS, FAWN DUSTCOAT ON HIS ARM, TAWNY RED BROGUES, FIELDGLASSES IN -BANDOLIER AND A GREY BILLYCOCK HAT Do you remember a long long time, -years and years ago, just after Milly, Marionette we called her, was -weaned when we all went together to Fairyhouse races, was it? -MRS BREEN IN SMART SAXE TAILORMADE, WHITE VELOURS HAT AND SPIDER VEIL -Leopardstown. -BLOOM I mean, Leopardstown. And Molly won seven shillings on a three -year old named Nevertell and coming home along by Foxrock in that old -fiveseater shanderadan of a waggonette you were in your heyday then and -you had on that new hat of white velours with a surround of molefur that -Mrs Hayes advised you to buy because it was marked down to nineteen and -eleven, a bit of wire and an old rag of velveteen, and I'll lay you what -you like she did it on purpose ... -MRS BREEN She did, of course, the cat Don't tell me Nice adviser -BLOOM Because it didn't suit you one quarter as well as the other ducky -little tammy toque with the bird of paradise wing in it that I admired on -you and you honestly looked just too fetching in it though it was a pity -to kill it, you cruel naughty creature, little mite of a thing with a -heart the size of a fullstop. -MRS BREEN SQUEEZES HIS ARM, SIMPERS Naughty cruel I was -BLOOM LOW, SECRETLY, EVER MORE RAPIDLY And Molly was eating a sandwich -of spiced beef out of Mrs Joe Gallaher's lunch basket. Frankly, though -she had her advisers or admirers, I never cared much for her style. She -was ... -MRS BREEN Too ... -BLOOM Yes. And Molly was laughing because Rogers and Maggot O'Reilly -were mimicking a cock as we passed a farmhouse and Marcus Tertius Moses, -the tea merchant, drove past us in a gig with his daughter, Dancer Moses -was her name, and the poodle in her lap bridled up and you asked me if I -ever heard or read or knew or came across ... -MRS BREEN EAGERLY Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. -SHE FADES FROM HIS SIDE. FOLLOWED BY THE WHINING DOG HE WALKS ON TOWARDS -HELLSGATES. IN AN ARCHWAY A STANDING WOMAN, BENT FORWARD, HER FEET APART, -PISSES COWILY. OUTSIDE A SHUTTERED PUB A BUNCH OF LOITERERS LISTEN TO A -TALE WHICH THEIR BROKENSNOUTED GAFFER RASPS OUT WITH RAUCOUS HUMOUR. AN -ARMLESS PAIR OF THEM FLOP WRESTLING, GROWLING, IN MAIMED SODDEN -PLAYFIGHT. -THE GAFFER CROUCHES, HIS VOICE TWISTED IN HIS SNOUT And when Cairns -came down from the scaffolding in Beaver street what was he after doing -it into only into the bucket of porter that was there waiting on the -shavings for Derwan's plasterers. -THE LOITERERS GUFFAW WITH CLEFT PALATES O jays -THEIR PAINTSPECKLED HATS WAG. SPATTERED WITH SIZE AND LIME OF THEIR -LODGES THEY FRISK LIMBLESSLY ABOUT HIM. -BLOOM Coincidence too. They think it funny. Anything but that. Broad -daylight. Trying to walk. Lucky no woman. -THE LOITERERS Jays, that's a good one. Glauber salts. O jays, into the -men's porter. -BLOOM PASSES. CHEAP WHORES, SINGLY, COUPLED, SHAWLED, DISHEVELLED, CALL -FROM LANES, DOORS, CORNERS. -THE WHORES -Are you going far, queer fellow? -How's your middle leg? -Got a match on you? -Eh, come here till I stiffen it for you. -HE PLODGES THROUGH THEIR SUMP TOWARDS THE LIGHTED STREET BEYOND. FROM A -BULGE OF WINDOW CURTAINS A GRAMOPHONE REARS A BATTERED BRAZEN TRUNK. IN -THE SHADOW A SHEBEENKEEPER HAGGLES WITH THE NAVVY AND THE TWO REDCOATS. -THE NAVVY BELCHING Where's the bloody house? -THE SHEBEENKEEPER Purdon street. Shilling a bottle of stout. Respectable -woman. -THE NAVVY GRIPPING THE TWO REDCOATS, STAGGERS FORWARD WITH THEM Come -on, you British army -PRIVATE CARR BEHIND HIS BACK He aint half balmy. -PRIVATE COMPTON LAUGHS What ho -PRIVATE CARR TO THE NAVVY Portobello barracks canteen. You ask for -Carr. Just Carr. -THE NAVVY SHOUTS -We are the boys. Of Wexford. -PRIVATE COMPTON Say What price the sergeantmajor? -PRIVATE CARR Bennett? He's my pal. I love old Bennett. -THE NAVVY SHOUTS -The galling chain. -And free our native land. -HE STAGGERS FORWARD, DRAGGING THEM WITH HIM. BLOOM STOPS, AT FAULT. THE -DOG APPROACHES, HIS TONGUE OUTLOLLING, PANTING -BLOOM Wildgoose chase this. Disorderly houses. Lord knows where they are -gone. Drunks cover distance double quick. Nice mixup. Scene at Westland -row. Then jump in first class with third ticket. Then too far. Train with -engine behind. Might have taken me to Malahide or a siding for the night -or collision. Second drink does it. Once is a dose. What am I following -him for? Still, he's the best of that lot. If I hadn't heard about Mrs -Beaufoy Purefoy I wouldn't have gone and wouldn't have met. Kismet. He'll -lose that cash. Relieving office here. Good biz for cheapjacks, organs. -What do ye lack? Soon got, soon gone. Might have lost my life too with -that mangongwheeltracktrolleyglarejuggernaut only for presence of mind. -Can't always save you, though. If I had passed Truelock's window that day -two minutes later would have been shot. Absence of body. Still if bullet -only went through my coat get damages for shock, five hundred pounds. -What was he? Kildare street club toff. God help his gamekeeper. -HE GAZES AHEAD, READING ON THE WALL A SCRAWLED CHALK LEGEND Wet Dream -AND A PHALLIC DESIGN. Odd Molly drawing on the frosted carriagepane at -Kingstown. What's that like? GAUDY DOLLWOMEN LOLL IN THE LIGHTED -DOORWAYS, IN WINDOW EMBRASURES, SMOKING BIRDSEYE CIGARETTES. THE ODOUR OF -THE SICKSWEET WEED FLOATS TOWARDS HIM IN SLOW ROUND OVALLING WREATHS. -THE WREATHS Sweet are the sweets. Sweets of sin. -BLOOM My spine's a bit limp. Go or turn? And this food? Eat it and get -all pigsticky. Absurd I am. Waste of money. One and eightpence too much. -THE RETRIEVER DRIVES A COLD SNIVELLING MUZZLE AGAINST HIS HAND, WAGGING -HIS TAIL. Strange how they take to me. Even that brute today. Better -speak to him first. Like women they like RENCONTRES. Stinks like a -polecat. CHACUN SON GOUT. He might be mad. Dogdays. Uncertain in his -movements. Good fellow Fido Good fellow Garryowen THE WOLFDOG -SPRAWLS ON HIS BACK, WRIGGLING OBSCENELY WITH BEGGING PAWS, HIS LONG -BLACK TONGUE LOLLING OUT. Influence of his surroundings. Give and have -done with it. Provided nobody. CALLING ENCOURAGING WORDS HE SHAMBLES -BACK WITH A FURTIVE POACHER'S TREAD, DOGGED BY THE SETTER INTO A DARK -STALESTUNK CORNER. HE UNROLLS ONE PARCEL AND GOES TO DUMP THE CRUBEEN -SOFTLY BUT HOLDS BACK AND FEELS THE TROTTER. Sizeable for threepence. -But then I have it in my left hand. Calls for more effort. Why? Smaller -from want of use. O, let it slide. Two and six. -WITH REGRET HE LETS THE UNROLLED CRUBEEN AND TROTTER SLIDE. THE MASTIFF -MAULS THE BUNDLE CLUMSILY AND GLUTS HIMSELF WITH GROWLING GREED, -CRUNCHING THE BONES. TWO RAINCAPED WATCH APPROACH, SILENT, VIGILANT. THEY -MURMUR TOGETHER. -THE WATCH Bloom. Of Bloom. For Bloom. Bloom. -EACH LAYS HAND ON BLOOM'S SHOULDER. -FIRST WATCH Caught in the act. Commit no nuisance. -BLOOM STAMMERS I am doing good to others. -A COVEY OF GULLS, STORM PETRELS, RISES HUNGRILY FROM LIFFEY SLIME WITH -BANBURY CAKES IN THEIR BEAKS. -THE GULLS Kaw kave kankury kake. -BLOOM The friend of man. Trained by kindness. -HE POINTS. BOB DORAN, TOPPLING FROM A HIGH BARSTOOL, SWAYS OVER THE -MUNCHING SPANIEL. -BOB DORAN Towser. Give us the paw. Give the paw. -THE BULLDOG GROWLS, HIS SCRUFF STANDING, A GOBBET OF PIG'S KNUCKLE -BETWEEN HIS MOLARS THROUGH WHICH RABID SCUMSPITTLE DRIBBLES. BOB DORAN -FILLS SILENTLY INTO AN AREA. -SECOND WATCH Prevention of cruelty to animals. -BLOOM ENTHUSIASTICALLY A noble work I scolded that tramdriver on -Harold's cross bridge for illusing the poor horse with his harness scab. -Bad French I got for my pains. Of course it was frosty and the last tram. -All tales of circus life are highly demoralising. -SIGNOR MAFFEI, PASSIONPALE, IN LIONTAMER'S COSTUME WITH DIAMOND STUDS IN -HIS SHIRTFRONT, STEPS FORWARD, HOLDING A CIRCUS PAPERHOOP, A CURLING -CARRIAGEWHIP AND A REVOLVER WITH WHICH HE COVERS THE GORGING BOARHOUND. -SIGNOR MAFFEI WITH A SINISTER SMILE Ladies and gentlemen, my educated -greyhound. It was I broke in the bucking broncho Ajax with my patent -spiked saddle for carnivores. Lash under the belly with a knotted thong. -Block tackle and a strangling pulley will bring your lion to heel, no -matter how fractious, even LEO FEROX there, the Libyan maneater. A redhot -crowbar and some liniment rubbing on the burning part produced Fritz of -Amsterdam, the thinking hyena. HE GLARES I possess the Indian sign. The -glint of my eye does it with these breastsparklers. WITH A BEWITCHING -SMILE I now introduce Mademoiselle Ruby, the pride of the ring. -FIRST WATCH Come. Name and address. -BLOOM I have forgotten for the moment. Ah, yes HE TAKES OFF HIS HIGH -GRADE HAT, SALUTING Dr Bloom, Leopold, dental surgeon. You have heard of -von Blum Pasha. Umpteen millions. DONNERWETTER Owns half Austria. Egypt. -Cousin. -FIRST WATCH Proof. -A CARD FALLS FROM INSIDE THE LEATHER HEADBAND OF BLOOM'S HAT. -BLOOM IN RED FEZ, CADI'S DRESS COAT WITH BROAD GREEN SASH, WEARING A -FALSE BADGE OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR, PICKS UP THE CARD HASTILY AND OFFERS -IT Allow me. My club is the Junior Army and Navy. Solicitors Messrs -John Henry Menton, Bachelor's Walk. -FIRST WATCH READS Henry Flower. No fixed abode. Unlawfully watching -and besetting. -SECOND WATCH An alibi. You are cautioned. -BLOOM PRODUCES FROM HIS HEARTPOCKET A CRUMPLED YELLOW FLOWER This is -the flower in question. It was given me by a man I don't know his name. -PLAUSIBLY You know that old joke, rose of Castile. Bloom. The change of -name. Virag. HE MURMURS PRIVATELY AND CONFIDENTIALLY We are engaged you -see, sergeant. Lady in the case. Love entanglement. HE SHOULDERS THE -SECOND WATCH GENTLY Dash it all. It's a way we gallants have in the -navy. Uniform that does it. HE TURNS GRAVELY TO THE FIRST WATCH Still, -of course, you do get your Waterloo sometimes. Drop in some evening and -have a glass of old Burgundy. TO THE SECOND WATCH GAILY I'll introduce -you, inspector. She's game. Do it in the shake of a lamb's tail. -A DARK MERCURIALISED FACE APPEARS, LEADING A VEILED FIGURE. -THE DARK MERCURY The Castle is looking for him. He was drummed out of -the army. -MARTHA THICKVEILED, A CRIMSON HALTER ROUND HER NECK, A COPY OF THE -Irish Times IN HER HAND, IN TONE OF REPROACH, POINTING Henry Leopold -Lionel, thou lost one Clear my name. -FIRST WATCH STERNLY Come to the station. -BLOOM SCARED, HATS HIMSELF, STEPS BACK, THEN, PLUCKING AT HIS HEART AND -LIFTING HIS RIGHT FOREARM ON THE SQUARE, HE GIVES THE SIGN AND DUEGUARD -OF FELLOWCRAFT No, no, worshipful master, light of love. Mistaken -identity. The Lyons mail. Lesurques and Dubosc. You remember the Childs -fratricide case. We medical men. By striking him dead with a hatchet. I -am wrongfully accused. Better one guilty escape than ninetynine -wrongfully condemned. -MARTHA SOBBING BEHIND HER VEIL Breach of promise. My real name is -Peggy Griffin. He wrote to me that he was miserable. I'll tell my -brother, the Bective rugger fullback, on you, heartless flirt. -BLOOM BEHIND HIS HAND She's drunk. The woman is inebriated. HE -MURMURS VAGUELY THE PASS OF EPHRAIM Shitbroleeth. -SECOND WATCH TEARS IN HIS EYES, TO BLOOM You ought to be thoroughly -well ashamed of yourself. -BLOOM Gentlemen of the jury, let me explain. A pure mare's nest. I am a -man misunderstood. I am being made a scapegoat of. I am a respectable -married man, without a stain on my character. I live in Eccles street. My -wife, I am the daughter of a most distinguished commander, a gallant -upstanding gentleman, what do you call him, Majorgeneral Brian Tweedy, -one of Britain's fighting men who helped to win our battles. Got his -majority for the heroic defence of Rorke's Drift. -FIRST WATCH Regiment. -BLOOM TURNS TO THE GALLERY The royal Dublins, boys, the salt of the -earth, known the world over. I think I see some old comrades in arms up -there among you. The R. D. F., with our own Metropolitan police, -guardians of our homes, the pluckiest lads and the finest body of men, as -physique, in the service of our sovereign. -A VOICE Turncoat Up the Boers Who booed Joe Chamberlain? -BLOOM HIS HAND ON THE SHOULDER OF THE FIRST WATCH My old dad too was a -J. P. I'm as staunch a Britisher as you are, sir. I fought with the -colours for king and country in the absentminded war under general Gough -in the park and was disabled at Spion Kop and Bloemfontein, was mentioned -in dispatches. I did all a white man could. WITH QUIET FEELING Jim -Bludso. Hold her nozzle again the bank. -FIRST WATCH Profession or trade. -BLOOM Well, I follow a literary occupation, authorjournalist. In fact -we are just bringing out a collection of prize stories of which I am the -inventor, something that is an entirely new departure. I am connected -with the British and Irish press. If you ring up ... -MYLES CRAWFORD STRIDES OUT JERKILY, A QUILL BETWEEN HIS TEETH. HIS -SCARLET BEAK BLAZES WITHIN THE AUREOLE OF HIS STRAW HAT. HE DANGLES A -HANK OF SPANISH ONIONS IN ONE HAND AND HOLDS WITH THE OTHER HAND A -TELEPHONE RECEIVER NOZZLE TO HIS EAR. -MYLES CRAWFORD HIS COCK'S WATTLES WAGGING Hello, seventyseven -eightfour. Hello. FREEMAN'S URINAL and WEEKLY ARSEWIPE here. Paralyse -Europe. You which? Bluebags? Who writes? Is it Bloom? -MR PHILIP BEAUFOY, PALEFACED, STANDS IN THE WITNESSBOX, IN ACCURATE -MORNING DRESS, OUTBREAST POCKET WITH PEAK OF HANDKERCHIEF SHOWING, -CREASED LAVENDER TROUSERS AND PATENT BOOTS. HE CARRIES A LARGE PORTFOLIO -LABELLED Matcham's Masterstrokes. -BEAUFOY DRAWLS No, you aren't. Not by a long shot if I know it. I -don't see it that's all. No born gentleman, noone with the most -rudimentary promptings of a gentleman would stoop to such particularly -loathsome conduct. One of those, my lord. A plagiarist. A soapy sneak -masquerading as a litterateur. It's perfectly obvious that with the most -inherent baseness he has cribbed some of my bestselling copy, really -gorgeous stuff, a perfect gem, the love passages in which are beneath -suspicion. The Beaufoy books of love and great possessions, with which -your lordship is doubtless familiar, are a household word throughout the -kingdom. -BLOOM MURMURS WITH HANGDOG MEEKNESS GLUM That bit about the laughing -witch hand in hand I take exception to, if I may ... -BEAUFOY HIS LIP UPCURLED, SMILES SUPERCILIOUSLY ON THE COURT You funny -ass, you You're too beastly awfully weird for words I don't think you -need over excessively disincommodate yourself in that regard. My literary -agent Mr J. B. Pinker is in attendance. I presume, my lord, we shall -receive the usual witnesses' fees, shan't we? We are considerably out of -pocket over this bally pressman johnny, this jackdaw of Rheims, who has -not even been to a university. -BLOOM INDISTINCTLY University of life. Bad art. -BEAUFOY SHOUTS It's a damnably foul lie, showing the moral rottenness -of the man HE EXTENDS HIS PORTFOLIO We have here damning evidence, the -CORPUS DELICTI, my lord, a specimen of my maturer work disfigured by the -hallmark of the beast. -A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY -Moses, Moses, king of the jews, -Wiped his arse in the Daily News. -BLOOM BRAVELY Overdrawn. -BEAUFOY You low cad You ought to be ducked in the horsepond, you -rotter TO THE COURT Why, look at the man's private life Leading a -quadruple existence Street angel and house devil. Not fit to be -mentioned in mixed society The archconspirator of the age -BLOOM TO THE COURT And he, a bachelor, how ... -FIRST WATCH The King versus Bloom. Call the woman Driscoll. -THE CRIER Mary Driscoll, scullerymaid -MARY DRISCOLL, A SLIPSHOD SERVANT GIRL, APPROACHES. SHE HAS A BUCKET ON -THE CROOK OF HER ARM AND A SCOURINGBRUSH IN HER HAND. -SECOND WATCH Another Are you of the unfortunate class? -MARY DRISCOLL INDIGNANTLY I'm not a bad one. I bear a respectable -character and was four months in my last place. I was in a situation, six -pounds a year and my chances with Fridays out and I had to leave owing to -his carryings on. -FIRST WATCH What do you tax him with? -MARY DRISCOLL He made a certain suggestion but I thought more of myself -as poor as I am. -BLOOM IN HOUSEJACKET OF RIPPLECLOTH, FLANNEL TROUSERS, HEELLESS -SLIPPERS, UNSHAVEN, HIS HAIR RUMPLED SOFTLY I treated you white. I gave -you mementos, smart emerald garters far above your station. Incautiously -I took your part when you were accused of pilfering. There's a medium in -all things. Play cricket. -MARY DRISCOLL EXCITEDLY As God is looking down on me this night if -ever I laid a hand to them oysters -FIRST WATCH The offence complained of? Did something happen? -MARY DRISCOLL He surprised me in the rere of the premises, Your honour, -when the missus was out shopping one morning with a request for a safety -pin. He held me and I was discoloured in four places as a result. And he -interfered twict with my clothing. -BLOOM She counterassaulted. -MARY DRISCOLL SCORNFULLY I had more respect for the scouringbrush, so -I had. I remonstrated with him, Your lord, and he remarked keep it -quiet. -GENERAL LAUGHTER. -GEORGE FOTTRELL CLERK OF THE CROWN AND PEACE, RESONANTLY Order in -court The accused will now make a bogus statement. -BLOOM, PLEADING NOT GUILTY AND HOLDING A FULLBLOWN WATERLILY, BEGINS A -LONG UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH. THEY WOULD HEAR WHAT COUNSEL HAD TO SAY IN -HIS STIRRING ADDRESS TO THE GRAND JURY. HE WAS DOWN AND OUT BUT, THOUGH -BRANDED AS A BLACK SHEEP, IF HE MIGHT SAY SO, HE MEANT TO REFORM, TO -RETRIEVE THE MEMORY OF THE PAST IN A PURELY SISTERLY WAY AND RETURN TO -NATURE AS A PURELY DOMESTIC ANIMAL. A SEVENMONTHS' CHILD, HE HAD BEEN -CAREFULLY BROUGHT UP AND NURTURED BY AN AGED BEDRIDDEN PARENT. THERE -MIGHT HAVE BEEN LAPSES OF AN ERRING FATHER BUT HE WANTED TO TURN OVER A -NEW LEAF AND NOW, WHEN AT LONG LAST IN SIGHT OF THE WHIPPING POST, TO -LEAD A HOMELY LIFE IN THE EVENING OF HIS DAYS, PERMEATED BY THE -AFFECTIONATE SURROUNDINGS OF THE HEAVING BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. AN -ACCLIMATISED BRITISHER, HE HAD SEEN THAT SUMMER EVE FROM THE FOOTPLATE OF -AN ENGINE CAB OF THE LOOP LINE RAILWAY COMPANY WHILE THE RAIN REFRAINED -FROM FALLING GLIMPSES, AS IT WERE, THROUGH THE WINDOWS OF LOVEFUL -HOUSEHOLDS IN DUBLIN CITY AND URBAN DISTRICT OF SCENES TRULY RURAL OF -HAPPINESS OF THE BETTER LAND WITH DOCKRELL'S WALLPAPER AT ONE AND -NINEPENCE A DOZEN, INNOCENT BRITISHBORN BAIRNS LISPING PRAYERS TO THE -SACRED INFANT, YOUTHFUL SCHOLARS GRAPPLING WITH THEIR PENSUMS OR MODEL -YOUNG LADIES PLAYING ON THE PIANOFORTE OR ANON ALL WITH FERVOUR RECITING -THE FAMILY ROSARY ROUND THE CRACKLING YULELOG WHILE IN THE BOREENS AND -GREEN LANES THE COLLEENS WITH THEIR SWAINS STROLLED WHAT TIMES THE -STRAINS OF THE ORGANTONED MELODEON BRITANNIA METALBOUND WITH FOUR ACTING -STOPS AND TWELVEFOLD BELLOWS, A SACRIFICE, GREATEST BARGAIN EVER... -RENEWED LAUGHTER. HE MUMBLES INCOHERENTLY. REPORTERS COMPLAIN THAT THEY -CANNOT HEAR. -LONGHAND AND SHORTHAND WITHOUT LOOKING UP FROM THEIR NOTEBOOKS Loosen -his boots. -PROFESSOR MACHUGH FROM THE PRESSTABLE, COUGHS AND CALLS Cough it up, -man. Get it out in bits. -THE CROSSEXAMINATION PROCEEDS RE BLOOM AND THE BUCKET. A LARGE BUCKET. -BLOOM HIMSELF. BOWEL TROUBLE. IN BEAVER STREET GRIPE, YES. QUITE BAD. A -PLASTERER'S BUCKET. BY WALKING STIFFLEGGED. SUFFERED UNTOLD MISERY. -DEADLY AGONY. ABOUT NOON. LOVE OR BURGUNDY. YES, SOME SPINACH. CRUCIAL -MOMENT. HE DID NOT LOOK IN THE BUCKET NOBODY. RATHER A MESS. NOT -COMPLETELY. A Titbits BACK NUMBER. -UPROAR AND CATCALLS. BLOOM IN A TORN FROCKCOAT STAINED WITH WHITEWASH, -DINGED SILK HAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS HEAD, A STRIP OF STICKINGPLASTER ACROSS -HIS NOSE, TALKS INAUDIBLY. -J. J. O'MOLLOY IN BARRISTER'S GREY WIG AND STUFFGOWN, SPEAKING WITH A -VOICE OF PAINED PROTEST This is no place for indecent levity at the -expense of an erring mortal disguised in liquor. We are not in a -beargarden nor at an Oxford rag nor is this a travesty of justice. My -client is an infant, a poor foreign immigrant who started scratch as a -stowaway and is now trying to turn an honest penny. The trumped up -misdemeanour was due to a momentary aberration of heredity, brought on by -hallucination, such familiarities as the alleged guilty occurrence being -quite permitted in my client's native place, the land of the Pharaoh. -PRIMA FACIE, I put it to you that there was no attempt at carnally -knowing. Intimacy did not occur and the offence complained of by -Driscoll, that her virtue was solicited, was not repeated. I would deal -in especial with atavism. There have been cases of shipwreck and -somnambulism in my client's family. If the accused could speak he could a -tale unfoldone of the strangest that have ever been narrated between -the covers of a book. He himself, my lord, is a physical wreck from -cobbler's weak chest. His submission is that he is of Mongolian -extraction and irresponsible for his actions. Not all there, in fact. -BLOOM BAREFOOT, PIGEONBREASTED, IN LASCAR'S VEST AND TROUSERS, -APOLOGETIC TOES TURNED IN, OPENS HIS TINY MOLE'S EYES AND LOOKS ABOUT HIM -DAZEDLY, PASSING A SLOW HAND ACROSS HIS FOREHEAD. THEN HE HITCHES HIS -BELT SAILOR FASHION AND WITH A SHRUG OF ORIENTAL OBEISANCE SALUTES THE -COURT, POINTING ONE THUMB HEAVENWARD. Him makee velly muchee fine night. -HE BEGINS TO LILT SIMPLY -Li li poo lil chile -Blingee pigfoot evly night -Payee two shilly ... -HE IS HOWLED DOWN. -J. J. O'MOLLOY HOTLY TO THE POPULACE This is a lonehand fight. By -Hades, I will not have any client of mine gagged and badgered in this -fashion by a pack of curs and laughing hyenas. The Mosaic code has -superseded the law of the jungle. I say it and I say it emphatically, -without wishing for one moment to defeat the ends of justice, accused was -not accessory before the act and prosecutrix has not been tampered with. -The young person was treated by defendant as if she were his very own -daughter. BLOOM TAKES J. J. O'MOLLOY'S HAND AND RAISES IT TO HIS LIPS. -I shall call rebutting evidence to prove up to the hilt that the hidden -hand is again at its old game. When in doubt persecute Bloom. My client, -an innately bashful man, would be the last man in the world to do -anything ungentlemanly which injured modesty could object to or cast a -stone at a girl who took the wrong turning when some dastard, responsible -for her condition, had worked his own sweet will on her. He wants to go -straight. I regard him as the whitest man I know. He is down on his luck -at present owing to the mortgaging of his extensive property at Agendath -Netaim in faraway Asia Minor, slides of which will now be shown. TO -BLOOM I suggest that you will do the handsome thing. -BLOOM A penny in the pound. -THE IMAGE OF THE LAKE OF KINNERETH WITH BLURRED CATTLE CROPPING IN -SILVER HAZE IS PROJECTED ON THE WALL. MOSES DLUGACZ, FERRETEYED ALBINO, -IN BLUE DUNGAREES, STANDS UP IN THE GALLERY, HOLDING IN EACH HAND AN -ORANGE CITRON AND A PORK KIDNEY. -DLUGACZ HOARSELY Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W.. -J. J. O'MOLLOY STEPS ON TO A LOW PLINTH AND HOLDS THE LAPEL OF HIS COAT -WITH SOLEMNITY. HIS FACE LENGTHENS, GROWS PALE AND BEARDED, WITH SUNKEN -EYES, THE BLOTCHES OF PHTHISIS AND HECTIC CHEEKBONES OF JOHN F. TAYLOR. -HE APPLIES HIS HANDKERCHIEF TO HIS MOUTH AND SCRUTINISES THE GALLOPING -TIDE OF ROSEPINK BLOOD. -J.J.O'MOLLOY ALMOST VOICELESSLY Excuse me. I am suffering from a -severe chill, have recently come from a sickbed. A few wellchosen words. -HE ASSUMES THE AVINE HEAD, FOXY MOUSTACHE AND PROBOSCIDAL ELOQUENCE OF -SEYMOUR BUSHE. When the angel's book comes to be opened if aught that -the pensive bosom has inaugurated of soultransfigured and of -soultransfiguring deserves to live I say accord the prisoner at the bar -the sacred benefit of the doubt. A PAPER WITH SOMETHING WRITTEN ON IT IS -HANDED INTO COURT. -BLOOM IN COURT DRESS Can give best references. Messrs Callan, Coleman. -Mr Wisdom Hely J. P. My old chief Joe Cuffe. Mr V. B. Dillon, ex lord -mayor of Dublin. I have moved in the charmed circle of the highest ... -Queens of Dublin society. CARELESSLY I was just chatting this afternoon -at the viceregal lodge to my old pals, sir Robert and lady Ball, -astronomer royal at the levee. Sir Bob, I said ... -MRS YELVERTON BARRY IN LOWCORSAGED OPAL BALLDRESS AND ELBOWLENGTH IVORY -GLOVES, WEARING A SABLETRIMMED BRICKQUILTED DOLMAN, A COMB OF BRILLIANTS -AND PANACHE OF OSPREY IN HER HAIR Arrest him, constable. He wrote me an -anonymous letter in prentice backhand when my husband was in the North -Riding of Tipperary on the Munster circuit, signed James Lovebirch. He -said that he had seen from the gods my peerless globes as I sat in a box -of the THEATRE ROYAL at a command performance of LA CIGALE. I deeply -inflamed him, he said. He made improper overtures to me to misconduct -myself at half past four p.m. on the following Thursday, Dunsink time. He -offered to send me through the post a work of fiction by Monsieur Paul de -Kock, entitled THE GIRL WITH THE THREE PAIRS OF STAYS. -MRS BELLINGHAM IN CAP AND SEAL CONEY MANTLE, WRAPPED UP TO THE NOSE, -STEPS OUT OF HER BROUGHAM AND SCANS THROUGH TORTOISESHELL QUIZZING -GLASSES WHICH SHE TAKES FROM INSIDE HER HUGE OPOSSUM MUFF Also to me. -Yes, I believe it is the same objectionable person. Because he closed my -carriage door outside sir Thornley Stoker's one sleety day during the -cold snap of February ninetythree when even the grid of the wastepipe and -the ballstop in my bath cistern were frozen. Subsequently he enclosed a -bloom of edelweiss culled on the heights, as he said, in my honour. I had -it examined by a botanical expert and elicited the information that it -was ablossom of the homegrown potato plant purloined from a forcingcase -of the model farm. -MRS YELVERTON BARRY Shame on him -A CROWD OF SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS SURGES FORWARD -THE SLUTS AND RAGAMUFFINS SCREAMING Stop thief Hurrah there, -Bluebeard Three cheers for Ikey Mo -SECOND WATCH PRODUCES HANDCUFFS Here are the darbies. -MRS BELLINGHAM He addressed me in several handwritings with fulsome -compliments as a Venus in furs and alleged profound pity for my -frostbound coachman Palmer while in the same breath he expressed himself -as envious of his earflaps and fleecy sheepskins and of his fortunate -proximity to my person, when standing behind my chair wearing my livery -and the armorial bearings of the Bellingham escutcheon garnished sable, a -buck's head couped or. He lauded almost extravagantly my nether -extremities, my swelling calves in silk hose drawn up to the limit, and -eulogised glowingly my other hidden treasures in priceless lace which, he -said, he could conjure up. He urged me stating that he felt it his -mission in life to urge me to defile the marriage bed, to commit -adultery at the earliest possible opportunity. -THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS IN AMAZON COSTUME, HARD HAT, -JACKBOOTS COCKSPURRED, VERMILION WAISTCOAT, FAWN MUSKETEER GAUNTLETS WITH -BRAIDED DRUMS, LONG TRAIN HELD UP AND HUNTING CROP WITH WHICH SHE STRIKES -HER WELT CONSTANTLY Also me. Because he saw me on the polo ground of the -Phoenix park at the match All Ireland versus the Rest of Ireland. My -eyes, I know, shone divinely as I watched Captain Slogger Dennehy of the -Inniskillings win the final chukkar on his darling cob CENTAUR. This -plebeian Don Juan observed me from behind a hackney car and sent me in -double envelopes an obscene photograph, such as are sold after dark on -Paris boulevards, insulting to any lady. I have it still. It represents a -partially nude senorita, frail and lovely his wife, as he solemnly -assured me, taken by him from nature, practising illicit intercourse -with a muscular torero, evidently a blackguard. He urged me to do -likewise, to misbehave, to sin with officers of the garrison. He implored -me to soil his letter in an unspeakable manner, to chastise him as he -richly deserves, to bestride and ride him, to give him a most vicious -horsewhipping. -MRS BELLINGHAM Me too. -MRS YELVERTON BARRY Me too. -SEVERAL HIGHLY RESPECTABLE DUBLIN LADIES HOLD UP IMPROPER LETTERS -RECEIVED FROM BLOOM. -THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS STAMPS HER JINGLING SPURS IN A SUDDEN -PAROXYSM OF FURY I will, by the God above me. I'll scourge the -pigeonlivered cur as long as I can stand over him. I'll flay him alive. -BLOOM HIS EYES CLOSING, QUAILS EXPECTANTLY Here? HE SQUIRMS Again -HE PANTS CRINGING I love the danger. -THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS Very much so I'll make it hot for -you. I'll make you dance Jack Latten for that. -MRS BELLINGHAM Tan his breech well, the upstart Write the stars and -stripes on it -MRS YELVERTON BARRY Disgraceful There's no excuse for him A married -man -BLOOM All these people. I meant only the spanking idea. A warm tingling -glow without effusion. Refined birching to stimulate the circulation. -THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS LAUGHS DERISIVELY O, did you, my -fine fellow? Well, by the living God, you'll get the surprise of your -life now, believe me, the most unmerciful hiding a man ever bargained -for. You have lashed the dormant tigress in my nature into fury. -MRS BELLINGHAM SHAKES HER MUFF AND QUIZZINGGLASSES VINDICTIVELY Make -him smart, Hanna dear. Give him ginger. Thrash the mongrel within an inch -of his life. The cato'ninetails. Geld him. Vivisect him. -BLOOM SHUDDERING, SHRINKING, JOINS HIS HANDS WITH HANGDOG MIEN O -cold O shivery It was your ambrosial beauty. Forget, forgive. Kismet. -Let me off this once. HE OFFERS THE OTHER CHEEK -MRS YELVERTON BARRY SEVERELY Don't do so on any account, Mrs Talboys -He should be soundly trounced -THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS UNBUTTONING HER GAUNTLET VIOLENTLY -I'll do no such thing. Pigdog and always was ever since he was pupped To -dare address me I'll flog him black and blue in the public streets. I'll -dig my spurs in him up to the rowel. He is a wellknown cuckold. SHE -SWISHES HER HUNTINGCROP SAVAGELY IN THE AIR Take down his trousers -without loss of time. Come here, sir Quick Ready? -BLOOM TREMBLING, BEGINNING TO OBEY The weather has been so warm. -DAVY STEPHENS, RINGLETTED, PASSES WITH A BEVY OF BAREFOOT NEWSBOYS. -DAVY STEPHENS MESSENGER OF THE SACRED HEART and EVENING TELEGRAPH with -Saint Patrick's Day supplement. Containing the new addresses of all the -cuckolds in Dublin. -THE VERY REVEREND CANON O'HANLON IN CLOTH OF GOLD COPE ELEVATES AND -EXPOSES A MARBLE TIMEPIECE. BEFORE HIM FATHER CONROY AND THE REVEREND -JOHN HUGHES S.J. BEND LOW. -THE TIMEPIECE UNPORTALLING -Cuckoo. -Cuckoo. -Cuckoo. -THE BRASS QUOITS OF A BED ARE HEARD TO JINGLE. -THE QUOITS Jigjag. Jigajiga. Jigjag. -A PANEL OF FOG ROLLS BACK RAPIDLY, REVEALING RAPIDLY IN THE JURYBOX THE -FACES OF MARTIN CUNNINGHAM, FOREMAN, SILKHATTED, JACK POWER, SIMON -DEDALUS, TOM KERNAN, NED LAMBERT, JOHN HENRY MENTON MYLES CRAWFORD, -LENEHAN, PADDY LEONARD, NOSEY FLYNN, M'COY AND THE FEATURELESS FACE OF A -NAMELESS ONE. -THE NAMELESS ONE Bareback riding. Weight for age. Gob, he organised her. -THE JURORS ALL THEIR HEADS TURNED TO HIS VOICE Really? -THE NAMELESS ONE SNARLS Arse over tip. Hundred shillings to five. -THE JURORS ALL THEIR HEADS LOWERED IN ASSENT Most of us thought as -much. -FIRST WATCH He is a marked man. Another girl's plait cut. Wanted Jack -the Ripper. A thousand pounds reward. -SECOND WATCH AWED, WHISPERS And in black. A mormon. Anarchist. -THE CRIER LOUDLY Whereas Leopold Bloom of no fixed abode is a -wellknown dynamitard, forger, bigamist, bawd and cuckold and a public -nuisance to the citizens of Dublin and whereas at this commission of -assizes the most honourable ... -HIS HONOUR, SIR FREDERICK FALKINER, RECORDER OF DUBLIN, IN JUDICIAL GARB -OF GREY STONE RISES FROM THE BENCH, STONEBEARDED. HE BEARS IN HIS ARMS AN -UMBRELLA SCEPTRE. FROM HIS FOREHEAD ARISE STARKLY THE MOSAIC RAMSHORNS. -THE RECORDER I will put an end to this white slave traffic and rid -Dublin of this odious pest. Scandalous HE DONS THE BLACK CAP Let him -be taken, Mr Subsheriff, from the dock where he now stands and detained -in custody in Mountjoy prison during His Majesty's pleasure and there be -hanged by the neck until he is dead and therein fail not at your peril or -may the Lord have mercy on your soul. Remove him. A BLACK SKULLCAP -DESCENDS UPON HIS HEAD. -THE SUBSHERIFF LONG JOHN FANNING APPEARS, SMOKING A PUNGENT HENRY CLAY. -LONG JOHN FANNING SCOWLS AND CALLS WITH RICH ROLLING UTTERANCE Who'll -hang Judas Iscariot? -H. RUMBOLD, MASTER BARBER, IN A BLOODCOLOURED JERKIN AND TANNER'S APRON, -A ROPE COILED OVER HIS SHOULDER, MOUNTS THE BLOCK. A LIFE PRESERVER AND A -NAILSTUDDED BLUDGEON ARE STUCK IN HIS BELT. HE RUBS GRIMLY HIS GRAPPLING -HANDS, KNOBBED WITH KNUCKLEDUSTERS. -RUMBOLD TO THE RECORDER WITH SINISTER FAMILIARITY Hanging Harry, your -Majesty, the Mersey terror. Five guineas a jugular. Neck or nothing. -THE BELLS OF GEORGE'S CHURCH TOLL SLOWLY, LOUD DARK IRON. -THE BELLS Heigho Heigho -BLOOM DESPERATELY Wait. Stop. Gulls. Good heart. I saw. Innocence. -Girl in the monkeyhouse. Zoo. Lewd chimpanzee. BREATHLESSLY Pelvic -basin. Her artless blush unmanned me. OVERCOME WITH EMOTION I left the -precincts. HE TURNS TO A FIGURE IN THE CROWD, APPEALING Hynes, may I -speak to you? You know me. That three shillings you can keep. If you want -a little more ... -HYNES COLDLY You are a perfect stranger. -SECOND WATCH POINTS TO THE CORNER The bomb is here. -FIRST WATCH Infernal machine with a time fuse. -BLOOM No, no. Pig's feet. I was at a funeral. -FIRST WATCH DRAWS HIS TRUNCHEON Liar -THE BEAGLE LIFTS HIS SNOUT, SHOWING THE GREY SCORBUTIC FACE OF PADDY -DIGNAM. HE HAS GNAWED ALL. HE EXHALES A PUTRID CARCASEFED BREATH. HE -GROWS TO HUMAN SIZE AND SHAPE. HIS DACHSHUND COAT BECOMES A BROWN -MORTUARY HABIT. HIS GREEN EYE FLASHES BLOODSHOT. HALF OF ONE EAR, ALL THE -NOSE AND BOTH THUMBS ARE GHOULEATEN. -PADDY DIGNAM IN A HOLLOW VOICE It is true. It was my funeral. Doctor -Finucane pronounced life extinct when I succumbed to the disease from -natural causes. -HE LIFTS HIS MUTILATED ASHEN FACE MOONWARDS AND BAYS LUGUBRIOUSLY. -BLOOM IN TRIUMPH You hear? -PADDY DIGNAM Bloom, I am Paddy Dignam's spirit. List, list, O list -BLOOM The voice is the voice of Esau. -SECOND WATCH BLESSES HIMSELF How is that possible? -FIRST WATCH It is not in the penny catechism. -PADDY DIGNAM By metempsychosis. Spooks. -A VOICE O rocks. -PADDY DIGNAM EARNESTLY Once I was in the employ of Mr J. H. Menton, -solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits, of Bachelor's Walk. -Now I am defunct, the wall of the heart hypertrophied. Hard lines. The -poor wife was awfully cut up. How is she bearing it? Keep her off that -bottle of sherry. HE LOOKS ROUND HIM A lamp. I must satisfy an animal -need. That buttermilk didn't agree with me. -THE PORTLY FIGURE OF JOHN O'CONNELL, CARETAKER, STANDS FORTH, HOLDING A -BUNCH OF KEYS TIED WITH CRAPE. BESIDE HIM STANDS FATHER COFFEY, CHAPLAIN, -TOADBELLIED, WRYNECKED, IN A SURPLICE AND BANDANNA NIGHTCAP, HOLDING -SLEEPILY A STAFF TWISTED POPPIES. -FATHER COFFEY YAWNS, THEN CHANTS WITH A HOARSE CROAK Namine. Jacobs. -Vobiscuits. Amen. -JOHN O'CONNELL FOGHORNS STORMILY THROUGH HIS MEGAPHONE Dignam, Patrick -T, deceased. -PADDY DIGNAM WITH PRICKED UP EARS, WINCES Overtones. HE WRIGGLES -FORWARD AND PLACES AN EAR TO THE GROUND My master's voice -JOHN O'CONNELL Burial docket letter number U. P. eightyfive thousand. -Field seventeen. House of Keys. Plot, one hundred and one. -PADDY DIGNAM LISTENS WITH VISIBLE EFFORT, THINKING, HIS TAIL -STIFFPOINTCD, HIS EARS COCKED. -PADDY DIGNAM Pray for the repose of his soul. -HE WORMS DOWN THROUGH A COALHOLE, HIS BROWN HABIT TRAILING ITS TETHER -OVER RATTLING PEBBLES. AFTER HIM TODDLES AN OBESE GRANDFATHER RAT ON -FUNGUS TURTLE PAWS UNDER A GREY CARAPACE. DIGNAM'S VOICE, MUFFLED, IS -HEARD BAYING UNDER GROUND Dignam's dead and gone below. TOM ROCHFORD, -ROBINREDBREASTED, IN CAP AND BREECHES, JUMPS FROM HIS TWOCOLUMNED -MACHINE. -TOM ROCHFORD A HAND TO HIS BREASTBONE, BOWS Reuben J. A florin I find -him. HE FIXES THE MANHOLE WITH A RESOLUTE STARE My turn now on. Follow -me up to Carlow. -HE EXECUTES A DAREDEVIL SALMON LEAP IN THE AIR AND IS ENGULFED IN THE -COALHOLE. TWO DISCS ON THE COLUMNS WOBBLE, EYES OF NOUGHT. ALL RECEDES. -BLOOM PLODGES FORWARD AGAIN THROUGH THE SUMP. KISSES CHIRP AMID THE RIFTS -OF FOG A PIANO SOUNDS. HE STANDS BEFORE A LIGHTED HOUSE, LISTENING. THE -KISSES, WINGING FROM THEIR BOWERS FLY ABOUT HIM, TWITTERING, WARBLING, -COOING. -THE KISSES WARBLING Leo TWITTERING Icky licky micky sticky for Leo -COOING Coo coocoo Yummyyum, Womwom WARBLING Big comebig Pirouette -Leopopold TWITTERING Leeolee WARBLING O Leo -THEY RUSTLE, FLUTTER UPON HIS GARMENTS, ALIGHT, BRIGHT GIDDY FLECKS, -SILVERY SEQUINS. -BLOOM A man's touch. Sad music. Church music. Perhaps here. -ZOE HIGGINS, A YOUNG WHORE IN A SAPPHIRE SLIP, CLOSED WITH THREE BRONZE -BUCKLES, A SLIM BLACK VELVET FILLET ROUND HER THROAT, NODS, TRIPS DOWN -THE STEPS AND ACCOSTS HIM. -ZOE Are you looking for someone? He's inside with his friend. -BLOOM Is this Mrs Mack's? -ZOE No, eightyone. Mrs Cohen's. You might go farther and fare worse. -Mother Slipperslapper. FAMILIARLY She's on the job herself tonight with -the vet her tipster that gives her all the winners and pays for her son -in Oxford. Working overtime but her luck's turned today. SUSPICIOUSLY -You're not his father, are you? -BLOOM Not I -ZOE You both in black. Has little mousey any tickles tonight? -HIS SKIN, ALERT, FEELS HER FINGERTIPS APPROACH. A HAND GLIDES OVER HIS -LEFT THIGH. -ZOE How's the nuts? -BLOOM Off side. Curiously they are on the right. Heavier, I suppose. One -in a million my tailor, Mesias, says. -ZOE IN SUDDEN ALARM You've a hard chancre. -BLOOM Not likely. -ZOE I feel it. -HER HAND SLIDES INTO HIS LEFT TROUSER POCKET AND BRINGS OUT A HARD BLACK -SHRIVELLED POTATO. SHE REGARDS IT AND BLOOM WITH DUMB MOIST LIPS. -BLOOM A talisman. Heirloom. -ZOE For Zoe? For keeps? For being so nice, eh? -SHE PUTS THE POTATO GREEDILY INTO A POCKET THEN LINKS HIS ARM, CUDDLING -HIM WITH SUPPLE WARMTH. HE SMILES UNEASILY. SLOWLY, NOTE BY NOTE, -ORIENTAL MUSIC IS PLAYED. HE GAZES IN THE TAWNY CRYSTAL OF HER EYES, -RINGED WITH KOHOL. HIS SMILE SOFTENS. -ZOE You'll know me the next time. -BLOOM FORLORNLY I never loved a dear gazelle but it was sure to ... -GAZELLES ARE LEAPING, FEEDING ON THE MOUNTAINS. NEAR ARE LAKES. ROUND -THEIR SHORES FILE SHADOWS BLACK OF CEDARGROVES. AROMA RISES, A STRONG -HAIRGROWTH OF RESIN. IT BURNS, THE ORIENT, A SKY OF SAPPHIRE, CLEFT BY -THE BRONZE FLIGHT OF EAGLES. UNDER IT LIES THE WOMANCITY NUDE, WHITE, -STILL, COOL, IN LUXURY. A FOUNTAIN MURMURS AMONG DAMASK ROSES. MAMMOTH -ROSES MURMUR OF SCARLET WINEGRAPES. A WINE OF SHAME, LUST, BLOOD EXUDES, -STRANGELY MURMURING. -ZOE MURMURING SINGSONG WITH THE MUSIC, HER ODALISK LIPS LUSCIOUSLY -SMEARED WITH SALVE OF SWINEFAT AND ROSEWATER SCHORACH ANI WENOWACH, -BENOITH HIERUSHALOIM. -BLOOM FASCINATED I thought you were of good stock by your accent. -ZOE And you know what thought did? -SHE BITES HIS EAR GENTLY WITH LITTLE GOLDSTOPPED TEETH, SENDING ON HIM A -CLOYING BREATH OF STALE GARLIC. THE ROSES DRAW APART, DISCLOSE A -SEPULCHRE OF THE GOLD OF KINGS AND THEIR MOULDERING BONES. -BLOOM DRAWS BACK, MECHANICALLY CARESSING HER RIGHT BUB WITH A FLAT -AWKWARD HAND Are you a Dublin girl? -ZOE CATCHES A STRAY HAIR DEFTLY AND TWISTS IT TO HER COIL No bloody -fear. I'm English. Have you a swaggerroot? -BLOOM AS BEFORE Rarely smoke, dear. Cigar now and then. Childish -device. LEWDLY The mouth can be better engaged than with a cylinder of -rank weed. -ZOE Go on. Make a stump speech out of it. -BLOOM IN WORKMAN'S CORDUROY OVERALLS, BLACK GANSY WITH RED FLOATING TIE -AND APACHE CAP Mankind is incorrigible. Sir Walter Ralegh brought from -the new world that potato and that weed, the one a killer of pestilence -by absorption, the other a poisoner of the ear, eye, heart, memory, will -understanding, all. That is to say he brought the poison a hundred years -before another person whose name I forget brought the food. Suicide. -Lies. All our habits. Why, look at our public life -MIDNIGHT CHIMES FROM DISTANT STEEPLES. -THE CHIMES Turn again, Leopold Lord mayor of Dublin -BLOOM IN ALDERMAN'S GOWN AND CHAIN Electors of Arran Quay, Inns Quay, -Rotunda, Mountjoy and North Dock, better run a tramline, I say, from the -cattlemarket to the river. That's the music of the future. That's my -programme. CUI BONO? But our bucaneering Vanderdeckens in their phantom -ship of finance ... -AN ELECTOR Three times three for our future chief magistrate -THE AURORA BOREALIS OF THE TORCHLIGHT PROCESSION LEAPS. -THE TORCHBEARERS Hooray -SEVERAL WELLKNOWN BURGESSES, CITY MAGNATES AND FREEMEN OF THE CITY SHAKE -HANDS WITH BLOOM AND CONGRATULATE HIM. TIMOTHY HARRINGTON, LATE THRICE -LORD MAYOR OF DUBLIN, IMPOSING IN MAYORAL SCARLET, GOLD CHAIN AND WHITE -SILK TIE, CONFERS WITH COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK, LOCUM TENENS. THEY NOD -VIGOROUSLY IN AGREEMENT. -LATE LORD MAYOR HARRINGTON IN SCARLET ROBE WITH MACE, GOLD MAYORAL -CHAIN AND LARGE WHITE SILK SCARF That alderman sir Leo Bloom's speech be -printed at the expense of the ratepayers. That the house in which he was -born be ornamented with a commemorative tablet and that the thoroughfare -hitherto known as Cow Parlour off Cork street be henceforth designated -Boulevard Bloom. -COUNCILLOR LORCAN SHERLOCK Carried unanimously. -BLOOM IMPASSIONEDLY These flying Dutchmen or lying Dutchmen as they -recline in their upholstered poop, casting dice, what reck they? Machines -is their cry, their chimera, their panacea. Laboursaving apparatuses, -supplanters, bugbears, manufactured monsters for mutual murder, hideous -hobgoblins produced by a horde of capitalistic lusts upon our prostituted -labour. The poor man starves while they are grassing their royal mountain -stags or shooting peasants and phartridges in their purblind pomp of pelf -and power. But their reign is rover for rever and ever and ev ... -PROLONGED APPLAUSE. VENETIAN MASTS, MAYPOLES AND FESTAL ARCHES SPRING -UP. A STREAMER BEARING THE LEGENDS Cead Mile Failte AND Mah Ttob Melek -Israel SPANS THE STREET. ALL THE WINDOWS ARE THRONGED WITH SIGHTSEERS, -CHIEFLY LADIES. ALONG THE ROUTE THE REGIMENTS OF THE ROYAL DUBLIN -FUSILIERS, THE KING'S OWN SCOTTISH BORDERERS, THE CAMERON HIGHLANDERS AND -THE WELSH FUSILIERS STANDING TO ATTENTION, KEEP BACK THE CROWD. BOYS FROM -HIGH SCHOOL ARE PERCHED ON THE LAMPPOSTS, TELEGRAPH POLES, WINDOWSILLS, -CORNICES, GUTTERS, CHIMNEYPOTS, RAILINGS, RAINSPOUTS, WHISTLING AND -CHEERING THE PILLAR OF THE CLOUD APPEARS. A FIFE AND DRUM BAND IS HEARD -IN THE DISTANCE PLAYING THE KOL NIDRE. THE BEATERS APPROACH WITH IMPERIAL -EAGLES HOISTED, TRAILING BANNERS AND WAVING ORIENTAL PALMS. THE -CHRYSELEPHANTINE PAPAL STANDARD RISES HIGH, SURROUNDED BY PENNONS OF THE -CIVIC FLAG. THE VAN OF THE PROCESSION APPEARS HEADED BY JOHN HOWARD -PARNELL, CITY MARSHAL, IN A CHESSBOARD TABARD, THE ATHLONE POURSUIVANT -AND ULSTER KING OF ARMS. THEY ARE FOLLOWED BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE JOSEPH -HUTCHINSON, LORD MAYOR OF DUBLIN, HIS LORDSHIP THE LORD MAYOR OF CORK, -THEIR WORSHIPS THE MAYORS OF LIMERICK, GALWAY, SLIGO AND WATERFORD, -TWENTYEIGHT IRISH REPRESENTATIVE PEERS, SIRDARS, GRANDEES AND MAHARAJAHS -BEARING THE CLOTH OF ESTATE, THE DUBLIN METROPOLITAN FIRE BRIGADE, THE -CHAPTER OF THE SAINTS OF FINANCE IN THEIR PLUTOCRATIC ORDER OF -PRECEDENCE, THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR, HIS EMINENCE MICHAEL CARDINAL -LOGUE, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH, PRIMATE OF ALL IRELAND, HIS GRACE, THE MOST -REVEREND DR WILLIAM ALEXANDER, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH, PRIMATE OF ALL -IRELAND, THE CHIEF RABBI, THE PRESBYTERIAN MODERATOR, THE HEADS OF THE -BAPTIST, ANABAPTIST, METHODIST AND MORAVIAN CHAPELS AND THE HONORARY -SECRETARY OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. AFTER THEM MARCH THE GUILDS AND -TRADES AND TRAINBANDS WITH FLYING COLOURS COOPERS, BIRD FANCIERS, -MILLWRIGHTS, NEWSPAPER CANVASSERS, LAW SCRIVENERS, MASSEURS, VINTNERS, -TRUSSMAKERS, CHIMNEYSWEEPS, LARD REFINERS, TABINET AND POPLIN WEAVERS, -FARRIERS, ITALIAN WAREHOUSEMEN, CHURCH DECORATORS, BOOTJACK -MANUFACTURERS, UNDERTAKERS, SILK MERCERS, LAPIDARIES, SALESMASTERS, -CORKCUTTERS, ASSESSORS OF FIRE LOSSES, DYERS AND CLEANERS, EXPORT -BOTTLERS, FELLMONGERS, TICKETWRITERS, HERALDIC SEAL ENGRAVERS, HORSE -REPOSITORY HANDS, BULLION BROKERS, CRICKET AND ARCHERY OUTFITTERS, -RIDDLEMAKERS, EGG AND POTATO FACTORS, HOSIERS AND GLOVERS, PLUMBING -CONTRACTORS. AFTER THEM MARCH GENTLEMEN OF THE BEDCHAMBER, BLACK ROD, -DEPUTY GARTER, GOLD STICK, THE MASTER OF HORSE, THE LORD GREAT -CHAMBERLAIN, THE EARL MARSHAL, THE HIGH CONSTABLE CARRYING THE SWORD OF -STATE, SAINT STEPHEN'S IRON CROWN, THE CHALICE AND BIBLE. FOUR BUGLERS ON -FOOT BLOW A SENNET. BEEFEATERS REPLY, WINDING CLARIONS OF WELCOME. UNDER -AN ARCH OF TRIUMPH BLOOM APPEARS, BAREHEADED, IN A CRIMSON VELVET MANTLE -TRIMMED WITH ERMINE, BEARING SAINT EDWARD'S STAFF THE ORB AND SCEPTRE -WITH THE DOVE, THE CURTANA. HE IS SEATED ON A MILKWHITE HORSE WITH LONG -FLOWING CRIMSON TAIL, RICHLY CAPARISONED, WITH GOLDEN HEADSTALL. WILD -EXCITEMENT. THE LADIES FROM THEIR BALCONIES THROW DOWN ROSEPETALS. THE -AIR IS PERFUMED WITH ESSENCES. THE MEN CHEER. BLOOM'S BOYS RUN AMID THE -BYSTANDERS WITH BRANCHES OF HAWTHORN AND WRENBUSHES. -BLOOM'S BOYS -The wren, the wren, -The king of all birds, -Saint Stephen's his day -Was caught in the furze. -A BLACKSMITH MURMURS For the honour of God And is that Bloom? He -scarcely looks thirtyone. -A PAVIOR AND FLAGGER That's the famous Bloom now, the world's greatest -reformer. Hats off -ALL UNCOVER THEIR HEADS. WOMEN WHISPER EAGERLY. -A MILLIONAIRESS RICHLY Isn't he simply wonderful? -A NOBLEWOMAN NOBLY All that man has seen -A FEMINIST MASCULINELY And done -A BELLHANGER A classic face He has the forehead of a thinker. -BLOOM'S WEATHER. A SUNBURST APPEARS IN THE NORTHWEST. -THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR I here present your undoubted emperor -president and kingchairman, the most serene and potent and very puissant -ruler of this realm. God save Leopold the First -ALL God save Leopold the First -BLOOM IN DALMATIC AND PURPLE MANTLE, TO THE BISHOP OF DOWN AND CONNOR, -WITH DIGNITY Thanks, somewhat eminent sir. -WILLIAM, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH IN PURPLE STOCK AND SHOVEL HAT Will you -to your power cause law and mercy to be executed in all your judgments in -Ireland and territories thereunto belonging? -BLOOM PLACING HIS RIGHT HAND ON HIS TESTICLES, SWEARS So may the -Creator deal with me. All this I promise to do. -MICHAEL, ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH POURS A CRUSE OF HAIROIL OVER BLOOM'S -HEAD GAUDIUM MAGNUM ANNUNTIO VOBIS. HABEMUS CARNEFICEM. Leopold, -Patrick, Andrew, David, George, be thou anointed -BLOOM ASSUMES A MANTLE OF CLOTH OF GOLD AND PUTS ON A RUBY RING. HE -ASCENDS AND STANDS ON THE STONE OF DESTINY. THE REPRESENTATIVE PEERS PUT -ON AT THE SAME TIME THEIR TWENTYEIGHT CROWNS. JOYBELLS RING IN CHRIST -CHURCH, SAINT PATRICK'S, GEORGE'S AND GAY MALAHIDE. MIRUS BAZAAR -FIREWORKS GO UP FROM ALL SIDES WITH SYMBOLICAL PHALLOPYROTECHNIC DESIGNS. -THE PEERS DO HOMAGE, ONE BY ONE, APPROACHING AND GENUFLECTING. -THE PEERS I do become your liege man of life and limb to earthly -worship. -BLOOM HOLDS UP HIS RIGHT HAND ON WHICH SPARKLES THE KOHINOOR DIAMOND. -HIS PALFREY NEIGHS. IMMEDIATE SILENCE. WIRELESS INTERCONTINENTAL AND -INTERPLANETARY TRANSMITTERS ARE SET FOR RECEPTION OF MESSAGE. -BLOOM My subjects We hereby nominate our faithful charger Copula Felix -hereditary Grand Vizier and announce that we have this day repudiated our -former spouse and have bestowed our royal hand upon the princess Selene, -the splendour of night. -THE FORMER MORGANATIC SPOUSE OF BLOOM IS HASTILY REMOVED IN THE BLACK -MARIA. THE PRINCESS SELENE, IN MOONBLUE ROBES, A SILVER CRESCENT ON HER -HEAD, DESCENDS FROM A SEDAN CHAIR, BORNE BY TWO GIANTS. AN OUTBURST OF -CHEERING. -JOHN HOWARD PARNELL RAISES THE ROYAL STANDARD Illustrious Bloom -Successor to my famous brother -BLOOM EMBRACES JOHN HOWARD PARNELL We thank you from our heart, John, -for this right royal welcome to green Erin, the promised land of our -common ancestors. -THE FREEDOM OF THE CITY IS PRESENTED TO HIM EMBODIED IN A CHARTER. THE -KEYS OF DUBLIN, CROSSED ON A CRIMSON CUSHION, ARE GIVEN TO HIM. HE SHOWS -ALL THAT HE IS WEARING GREEN SOCKS. -TOM KERNAN You deserve it, your honour. -BLOOM On this day twenty years ago we overcame the hereditary enemy at -Ladysmith. Our howitzers and camel swivel guns played on his lines with -telling effect. Half a league onward They charge All is lost now Do we -yield? No We drive them headlong Lo We charge Deploying to the left -our light horse swept across the heights of Plevna and, uttering their -warcry BONAFIDE SABAOTH, sabred the Saracen gunners to a man. -THE CHAPEL OF FREEMAN TYPESETTERS Hear Hear -JOHN WYSE NOLAN There's the man that got away James Stephens. -A BLUECOAT SCHOOLBOY Bravo -AN OLD RESIDENT You're a credit to your country, sir, that's what you -are. -AN APPLEWOMAN He's a man like Ireland wants. -BLOOM My beloved subjects, a new era is about to dawn. I, Bloom, tell -you verily it is even now at hand. Yea, on the word of a Bloom, ye shall -ere long enter into the golden city which is to be, the new Bloomusalem -in the Nova Hibernia of the future. -THIRTYTWO WORKMEN, WEARING ROSETTES, FROM ALL THE COUNTIES OF IRELAND, -UNDER THE GUIDANCE OF DERWAN THE BUILDER, CONSTRUCT THE NEW BLOOMUSALEM. -IT IS A COLOSSAL EDIFICE WITH CRYSTAL ROOF, BUILT IN THE SHAPE OF A HUGE -PORK KIDNEY, CONTAINING FORTY THOUSAND ROOMS. IN THE COURSE OF ITS -EXTENSION SEVERAL BUILDINGS AND MONUMENTS ARE DEMOLISHED. GOVERNMENT -OFFICES ARE TEMPORARILY TRANSFERRED TO RAILWAY SHEDS. NUMEROUS HOUSES ARE -RAZED TO THE GROUND. THE INHABITANTS ARE LODGED IN BARRELS AND BOXES, ALL -MARKED IN RED WITH THE LETTERS L. B. SEVERAL PAUPERS FILL FROM A LADDER. -A PART OF THE WALLS OF DUBLIN, CROWDED WITH LOYAL SIGHTSEERS, COLLAPSES. -THE SIGHTSEERS DYING MORITURI TE SALUTANT. THEY DIE -A MAN IN A BROWN MACINTOSH SPRINGS UP THROUGH A TRAPDOOR. HE POINTS AN -ELONGATED FINGER AT BLOOM. -THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH Don't you believe a word he says. That man is -Leopold M'Intosh, the notorious fireraiser. His real name is Higgins. -BLOOM Shoot him Dog of a christian So much for M'Intosh -A CANNONSHOT. THE MAN IN THE MACINTOSH DISAPPEARS. BLOOM WITH HIS -SCEPTRE STRIKES DOWN POPPIES. THE INSTANTANEOUS DEATHS OF MANY POWERFUL -ENEMIES, GRAZIERS, MEMBERS OF PARLIAMENT, MEMBERS OF STANDING COMMITTEES, -ARE REPORTED. BLOOM'S BODYGUARD DISTRIBUTE MAUNDY MONEY, COMMEMORATION -MEDALS, LOAVES AND FISHES, TEMPERANCE BADGES, EXPENSIVE HENRY CLAY -CIGARS, FREE COWBONES FOR SOUP, RUBBER PRESERVATIVES IN SEALED ENVELOPES -TIED WITH GOLD THREAD, BUTTER SCOTCH, PINEAPPLE ROCK, billets doux IN THE -FORM OF COCKED HATS, READYMADE SUITS, PORRINGERS OF TOAD IN THE HOLE, -BOTTLES OF JEYES' FLUID, PURCHASE STAMPS, DAYS' INDULGENCES, SPURIOUS -COINS, DAIRYFED PORK SAUSAGES, THEATRE PASSES, SEASON TICKETS AVAILABLE -FOR ALL TRAMLINES, COUPONS OF THE ROYAL AND PRIVILEGED HUNGARIAN LOTTERY, -PENNY DINNER COUNTERS, CHEAP REPRINTS OF THE WORLD'S TWELVE WORST BOOKS -FROGGY AND FRITZ POLITIC, CARE OF THE BABY INFANTILIC, MEALS FOR -/ CULINIC, WAS JESUS A SUN MYTH? HISTORIC, EXPEL THAT PAIN MEDIC, -INFANT'S COMPENDIUM OF THE UNIVERSE COSMIC, LET'S ALL CHORTLE -HILARIC, CANVASSER'S VADE MECUM JOURNALIC, LOVELETTERS OF MOTHER -ASSISTANT EROTIC, WHO'S WHO IN SPACE ASTRIC, SONGS THAT REACHED OUR -HEART MELODIC, PENNYWISE'S WAY TO WEALTH PARSIMONIC. A GENERAL RUSH -AND SCRAMBLE. WOMEN PRESS FORWARD TO TOUCH THE HEM OF BLOOM'S ROBE. THE -LADY GWENDOLEN DUBEDAT BURSTS THROUGH THE THRONG, LEAPS ON HIS HORSE AND -KISSES HIM ON BOTH CHEEKS AMID GREAT ACCLAMATION. A MAGNESIUM FLASHLIGHT -PHOTOGRAPH IS TAKEN. BABES AND SUCKLINGS ARE HELD UP. -THE WOMEN Little father Little father -THE BABES AND SUCKLINGS -Clap clap hands till Poldy comes home, -Cakes in his pocket for Leo alone. -BLOOM, BENDING DOWN, POKES BABY BOARDMAN GENTLY IN THE STOMACH. -BABY BOARDMAN HICCUPS, CURDLED MILK FLOWING FROM HIS MOUTH Hajajaja. -BLOOM SHAKING HANDS WITH A BLIND STRIPLING My more than Brother -PLACING HIS ARMS ROUND THE SHOULDERS OF AN OLD COUPLE Dear old friends -HE PLAYS PUSSY FOURCORNERS WITH RAGGED BOYS AND GIRLS Peep Bopeep HE -WHEELS TWINS IN A PERAMBULATOR Ticktacktwo wouldyousetashoe? HE -PERFORMS JUGGLER'S TRICKS, DRAWS RED, ORANGE, YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE, INDIGO -AND VIOLET SILK HANDKERCHIEFS FROM HIS MOUTH Roygbiv. feet per -second. HE CONSOLES A WIDOW Absence makes the heart grow younger. HE -DANCES THE HIGHLAND FLING WITH GROTESQUE ANTICS Leg it, ye devils HE -KISSES THE BEDSORES OF A PALSIED VETERAN Honourable wounds HE TRIPS UP -A FIT POLICEMAN U. p up. U. p up. HE WHISPERS IN THE EAR OF A -BLUSHING WAITRESS AND LAUGHS KINDLY Ah, naughty, naughty HE EATS A RAW -TURNIP OFFERED HIM BY MAURICE BUTTERLY, FARMER Fine Splendid HE -REFUSES TO ACCEPT THREE SHILLINGS OFFERED HIM BY JOSEPH HYNES, -JOURNALIST My dear fellow, not at all HE GIVES HIS COAT TO A BEGGAR -Please accept. HE TAKES PART IN A STOMACH RACE WITH ELDERLY MALE AND -FEMALE CRIPPLES Come on, boys Wriggle it, girls -THE CITIZEN CHOKED WITH EMOTION, BRUSHES ASIDE A TEAR IN HIS EMERALD -MUFFLER May the good God bless him -THE RAMS' HORNS SOUND FOR SILENCE. THE STANDARD OF ZION IS HOISTED. -BLOOM UNCLOAKS IMPRESSIVELY, REVEALING OBESITY, UNROLLS A PAPER AND -READS SOLEMNLY Aleph Beth Ghimel Daleth Hagadah Tephilim Kosher Yom -Kippur Hanukah Roschaschana Beni Brith Bar Mitzvah Mazzoth Askenazim -Meshuggah Talith. -AN OFFICIAL TRANSLATION IS READ BY JIMMY HENRY, ASSISTANT TOWN CLERK. -JIMMY HENRY The Court of Conscience is now open. His Most Catholic -Majesty will now administer open air justice. Free medical and legal -advice, solution of doubles and other problems. All cordially invited. -Given at this our loyal city of Dublin in the year I of the Paradisiacal -Era. -PADDY LEONARD What am I to do about my rates and taxes? -BLOOM Pay them, my friend. -PADDY LEONARD Thank you. -NOSEY FLYNN Can I raise a mortgage on my fire insurance? -BLOOM OBDURATELY Sirs, take notice that by the law of torts you are -bound over in your own recognisances for six months in the sum of five -pounds. -J. J. O'MOLLOY A Daniel did I say? Nay A Peter O'Brien -NOSEY FLYNN Where do I draw the five pounds? -PISSER BURKE For bladder trouble? -BLOOM -ACID. NIT. HYDROCHLOR. DIL., minims -TINCT. NUX VOM., minims -EXTR. TARAXEL. IIQ., minims. -AQ. DIS. TER IN DIE. -CHRIS CALLINAN What is the parallax of the subsolar ecliptic of -Aldebaran? -BLOOM Pleased to hear from you, Chris. K. II. -JOE HYNES Why aren't you in uniform? -BLOOM When my progenitor of sainted memory wore the uniform of the -Austrian despot in a dank prison where was yours? -BEN DOLLARD Pansies? -BLOOM Embellish beautify suburban gardens. -BEN DOLLARD When twins arrive? -BLOOM Father pater, dad starts thinking. -LARRY O'ROURKE An eightday licence for my new premises. You remember me, -sir Leo, when you were in number seven. I'm sending around a dozen of -stout for the missus. -BLOOM COLDLY You have the advantage of me. Lady Bloom accepts no -presents. -CROFTON This is indeed a festivity. -BLOOM SOLEMNLY You call it a festivity. I call it a sacrament. -ALEXANDER KEYES When will we have our own house of keys? -BLOOM I stand for the reform of municipal morals and the plain ten -commandments. New worlds for old. Union of all, jew, moslem and gentile. -Three acres and a cow for all children of nature. Saloon motor hearses. -Compulsory manual labour for all. All parks open to the public day and -night. Electric dishscrubbers. Tuberculosis, lunacy, war and mendicancy -must now cease. General amnesty, weekly carnival with masked licence, -bonuses for all, esperanto the universal language with universal -brotherhood. No more patriotism of barspongers and dropsical impostors. -Free money, free rent, free love and a free lay church in a free lay -state. -O'MADDEN BURKE Free fox in a free henroost. -DAVY BYRNE YAWNING Iiiiiiiiiaaaaaaach -BLOOM Mixed races and mixed marriage. -LENEHAN What about mixed bathing? -BLOOM EXPLAINS TO THOSE NEAR HIM HIS SCHEMES FOR SOCIAL REGENERATION. -ALL AGREE WITH HIM. THE KEEPER OF THE KILDARE STREET MUSEUM APPEARS, -DRAGGING A LORRY ON WHICH ARE THE SHAKING STATUES OF SEVERAL NAKED -GODDESSES, VENUS CALLIPYGE, VENUS PANDEMOS, VENUS METEMPSYCHOSIS, AND -PLASTER FIGURES, ALSO NAKED, REPRESENTING THE NEW NINE MUSES, COMMERCE, -OPERATIC MUSIC, AMOR, PUBLICITY, MANUFACTURE, LIBERTY OF SPEECH, PLURAL -VOTING, GASTRONOMY, PRIVATE HYGIENE, SEASIDE CONCERT ENTERTAINMENTS, -PAINLESS OBSTETRICS AND ASTRONOMY FOR THE PEOPLE. -FATHER FARLEY He is an episcopalian, an agnostic, an anythingarian -seeking to overthrow our holy faith. -MRS RIORDAN TEARS UP HER WILL I'm disappointed in you You bad man -MOTHER GROGAN REMOVES HER BOOT TO THROW IT AT BLOOM You beast You -abominable person -NOSEY FLYNN Give us a tune, Bloom. One of the old sweet songs. -BLOOM WITH ROLLICKING HUMOUR -I vowed that I never would leave her, -She turned out a cruel deceiver. -With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom. -HOPPY HOLOHAN Good old Bloom There's nobody like him after all. -PADDY LEONARD Stage Irishman -BLOOM What railway opera is like a tramline in Gibraltar? The Rows of -Casteele. LAUGHTER. -LENEHAN Plagiarist Down with Bloom -THE VEILED SIBYL ENTHUSIASTICALLY I'm a Bloomite and I glory in it. I -believe in him in spite of all. I'd give my life for him, the funniest -man on earth. -BLOOM WINKS AT THE BYSTANDERS I bet she's a bonny lassie. -THEODORE PUREFOY IN FISHINGCAP AND OILSKIN JACKET He employs a -mechanical device to frustrate the sacred ends of nature. -THE VEILED SIBYL STABS HERSELF My hero god SHE DIES -MANY MOST ATTRACTIVE AND ENTHUSIASTIC WOMEN ALSO COMMIT SUICIDE BY -STABBING, DROWNING, DRINKING PRUSSIC ACID, ACONITE, ARSENIC, OPENING -THEIR VEINS, REFUSING FOOD, CASTING THEMSELVES UNDER STEAMROLLERS, FROM -THE TOP OF NELSON'S PILLAR, INTO THE GREAT VAT OF GUINNESS'S BREWERY, -ASPHYXIATING THEMSELVES BY PLACING THEIR HEADS IN GASOVENS, HANGING -THEMSELVES IN STYLISH GARTERS, LEAPING FROM WINDOWS OF DIFFERENT -STOREYS. -ALEXANDER J DOWIE VIOLENTLY Fellowchristians and antiBloomites, the -man called Bloom is from the roots of hell, a disgrace to christian men. -A fiendish libertine from his earliest years this stinking goat of Mendes -gave precocious signs of infantile debauchery, recalling the cities of -the plain, with a dissolute granddam. This vile hypocrite, bronzed with -infamy, is the white bull mentioned in the Apocalypse. A worshipper of -the Scarlet Woman, intrigue is the very breath of his nostrils. The stake -faggots and the caldron of boiling oil are for him. Caliban -THE MOB Lynch him Roast him He's as bad as Parnell was. Mr Fox -MOTHER GROGAN THROWS HER BOOT AT BLOOM. SEVERAL SHOPKEEPERS FROM UPPER -AND LOWER DORSET STREET THROW OBJECTS OF LITTLE OR NO COMMERCIAL VALUE, -HAMBONES, CONDENSED MILK TINS, UNSALEABLE CABBAGE, STALE BREAD, SHEEP'S -TAILS, ODD PIECES OF FAT. -BLOOM EXCITEDLY This is midsummer madness, some ghastly joke again. By -heaven, I am guiltless as the unsunned snow It was my brother Henry. He -is my double. He lives in number Dolphin's Barn. Slander, the viper, -has wrongfully accused me. Fellowcountrymen, SGENL INN BAN BATA COISDE -GAN CAPALL. I call on my old friend, Dr Malachi Mulligan, sex specialist, -to give medical testimony on my behalf. -DR MULLIGAN IN MOTOR JERKIN, GREEN MOTORGOGGLES ON HIS BROW Dr Bloom -is bisexually abnormal. He has recently escaped from Dr Eustace's private -asylum for demented gentlemen. Born out of bedlock hereditary epilepsy is -present, the consequence of unbridled lust. Traces of elephantiasis have -been discovered among his ascendants. There are marked symptoms of -chronic exhibitionism. Ambidexterity is also latent. He is prematurely -bald from selfabuse, perversely idealistic in consequence, a reformed -rake, and has metal teeth. In consequence of a family complex he has -temporarily lost his memory and I believe him to be more sinned against -than sinning. I have made a pervaginal examination and, after application -of the acid test to anal, axillary, pectoral and pubic hairs, I -declare him to be VIRGO INTACTA. -BLOOM HOLDS HIS HIGH GRADE HAT OVER HIS GENITAL ORGANS. -DR MADDEN Hypsospadia is also marked. In the interest of coming -generations I suggest that the parts affected should be preserved in -spirits of wine in the national teratological museum. -DR CROTTHERS I have examined the patient's urine. It is albuminoid. -Salivation is insufficient, the patellar reflex intermittent. -DR PUNCH COSTELLO The FETOR JUDAICUS is most perceptible. -DR DIXON READS A BILL OF HEALTH Professor Bloom is a finished example -of the new womanly man. His moral nature is simple and lovable. Many have -found him a dear man, a dear person. He is a rather quaint fellow on the -whole, coy though not feebleminded in the medical sense. He has written a -really beautiful letter, a poem in itself, to the court missionary of the -Reformed Priests' Protection Society which clears up everything. He is -practically a total abstainer and I can affirm that he sleeps on a straw -litter and eats the most Spartan food, cold dried grocer's peas. He wears -a hairshirt of pure Irish manufacture winter and summer and scourges -himself every Saturday. He was, I understand, at one time a firstclass -misdemeanant in Glencree reformatory. Another report states that he was a -very posthumous child. I appeal for clemency in the name of the most -sacred word our vocal organs have ever been called upon to speak. He is -about to have a baby. -GENERAL COMMOTION AND COMPASSION. WOMEN FAINT. A WEALTHY AMERICAN MAKES -A STREET COLLECTION FOR BLOOM. GOLD AND SILVER COINS, BLANK CHEQUES, -BANKNOTES, JEWELS, TREASURY BONDS, MATURING BILLS OF EXCHANGE, I. O. U'S, -WEDDING RINGS, WATCHCHAINS, LOCKETS, NECKLACES AND BRACELETS ARE RAPIDLY -COLLECTED. -BLOOM O, I so want to be a mother. -MRS THORNTON IN NURSETENDER'S GOWN Embrace me tight, dear. You'll be -soon over it. Tight, dear. -BLOOM EMBRACES HER TIGHTLY AND BEARS EIGHT MALE YELLOW AND WHITE -CHILDREN. THEY APPEAR ON A REDCARPETED STAIRCASE ADORNED WITH EXPENSIVE -PLANTS. ALL THE OCTUPLETS ARE HANDSOME, WITH VALUABLE METALLIC FACES, -WELLMADE, RESPECTABLY DRESSED AND WELLCONDUCTED, SPEAKING FIVE MODERN -LANGUAGES FLUENTLY AND INTERESTED IN VARIOUS ARTS AND SCIENCES. EACH HAS -HIS NAME PRINTED IN LEGIBLE LETTERS ON HIS SHIRTFRONT NASODORO, -GOLDFINGER, CHRYSOSTOMOS, MAINDOREE, SILVERSMILE, SILBERSELBER, -VIFARGENT, PANARGYROS. THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY APPOINTED TO POSITIONS OF -HIGH PUBLIC TRUST IN SEVERAL DIFFERENT COUNTRIES AS MANAGING DIRECTORS OF -BANKS, TRAFFIC MANAGERS OF RAILWAYS, CHAIRMEN OF LIMITED LIABILITY -COMPANIES, VICECHAIRMEN OF HOTEL SYNDICATES. -A VOICE Bloom, are you the Messiah ben Joseph or ben David? -BLOOM DARKLY You have said it. -BROTHER BUZZ Then perform a miracle like Father Charles. -BANTAM LYONS Prophesy who will win the Saint Leger. -BLOOM WALKS ON A NET, COVERS HIS LEFT EYE WITH HIS LEFT EAR, PASSES -THROUGH SEVERAL WALLS, CLIMBS NELSON'S PILLAR, HANGS FROM THE TOP LEDGE -BY HIS EYELIDS, EATS TWELVE DOZEN OYSTERS SHELLS INCLUDED, HEALS -SEVERAL SUFFERERS FROM KING'S EVIL, CONTRACTS HIS FACE SO AS TO RESEMBLE -MANY HISTORICAL PERSONAGES, LORD BEACONSFIELD, LORD BYRON, WAT TYLER, -MOSES OF EGYPT, MOSES MAIMONIDES, MOSES MENDELSSOHN, HENRY IRVING, RIP -VAN WINKLE, KOSSUTH, JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU, BARON LEOPOLD ROTHSCHILD, -ROBINSON CRUSOE, SHERLOCK HOLMES, PASTEUR, TURNS EACH FOOT SIMULTANEOUSLY -IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS, BIDS THE TIDE TURN BACK, ECLIPSES THE SUN BY -EXTENDING HIS LITTLE FINGER. -BRINI, PAPAL NUNCIO IN PAPAL ZOUAVE'S UNIFORM, STEEL CUIRASSES AS -BREASTPLATE, ARMPLATES, THIGHPLATES, LEGPLATES, LARGE PROFANE MOUSTACHES -AND BROWN PAPER MITRE LEOPOLDI AUTEM GENERATIO. Moses begat Noah and -Noah begat Eunuch and Eunuch begat O'Halloran and O'Halloran begat -Guggenheim and Guggenheim begat Agendath and Agendath begat Netaim and -Netaim begat Le Hirsch and Le Hirsch begat Jesurum and Jesurum begat -MacKay and MacKay begat Ostrolopsky and Ostrolopsky begat Smerdoz and -Smerdoz begat Weiss and Weiss begat Schwarz and Schwarz begat Adrianopoli -and Adrianopoli begat Aranjuez and Aranjuez begat Lewy Lawson and Lewy -Lawson begat Ichabudonosor and Ichabudonosor begat O'Donnell Magnus and -O'Donnell Magnus begat Christbaum and Christbaum begat ben Maimun and ben -Maimun begat Dusty Rhodes and Dusty Rhodes begat Benamor and Benamor -begat JonesSmith and JonesSmith begat Savorgnanovich and Savorgnanovich -begat Jasperstone and Jasperstone begat Vingtetunieme and Vingtetunieme -begat Szombathely and Szombathely begat Virag and Virag begat Bloom ET -VOCABITUR NOMEN EIUS EMMANUEL. -A DEADHAND WRITES ON THE WALL Bloom is a cod. -CRAB IN BUSHRANGER'S KIT What did you do in the cattlecreep behind -Kilbarrack? -A FEMALE INFANT SHAKES A RATTLE And under Ballybough bridge? -A HOLLYBUSH And in the devil's glen? -BLOOM BLUSHES FURIOUSLY ALL OVER FROM FRONS TO NATES, THREE TEARS -FILLING FROM HIS LEFT EYE Spare my past. -THE IRISH EVICTED TENANTS IN BODYCOATS, KNEEBREECHES, WITH DONNYBROOK -FAIR SHILLELAGHS Sjambok him -BLOOM WITH ASSES' EARS SEATS HIMSELF IN THE PILLORY WITH CROSSED ARMS, -HIS FEET PROTRUDING. HE WHISTLES Don Giovanni, a cenar teco. ARTANE -ORPHANS, JOINING HANDS, CAPER ROUND HIM. GIRLS OF THE PRISON GATE -MISSION, JOINING HANDS, CAPER ROUND IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. -THE ARTANE ORPHANS -You hig, you hog, you dirty dog -You think the ladies love you -THE PRISON GATE GIRLS -If you see Kay -Tell him he may -See you in tea -Tell him from me. -HORNBLOWER IN EPHOD AND HUNTINGCAP, ANNOUNCES And he shall carry the -sins of the people to Azazel, the spirit which is in the wilderness, and -to Lilith, the nighthag. And they shall stone him and defile him, yea, -all from Agendath Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham. -ALL THE PEOPLE CAST SOFT PANTOMIME STONES AT BLOOM. MANY BONAFIDE -TRAVELLERS AND OWNERLESS DOGS COME NEAR HIM AND DEFILE HIM. MASTIANSKY -AND CITRON APPROACH IN GABERDINES, WEARING LONG EARLOCKS. THEY WAG THEIR -BEARDS AT BLOOM. -MASTIANSKY AND CITRON Belial Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah -Abulafia Recant -GEORGE R MESIAS, BLOOM'S TAILOR, APPEARS, A TAILOR'S GOOSE UNDER HIS -ARM, PRESENTING A BILL -MESIAS To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings. -BLOOM RUBS HIS HANDS CHEERFULLY Just like old times. Poor Bloom -REUBEN J DODD, BLACKBEARDED ISCARIOT, BAD SHEPHERD, BEARING ON HIS -SHOULDERS THE DROWNED CORPSE OF HIS SON, APPROACHES THE PILLORY. -REUBEN J WHISPERS HOARSELY The squeak is out. A split is gone for the -flatties. Nip the first rattler. -THE FIRE BRIGADE Pflaap -BROTHER BUZZ INVESTS BLOOM IN A YELLOW HABIT WITH EMBROIDERY OF PAINTED -FLAMES AND HIGH POINTED HAT. HE PLACES A BAG OF GUNPOWDER ROUND HIS NECK -AND HANDS HIM OVER TO THE CIVIL POWER, SAYING Forgive him his -trespasses. -LIEUTENANT MYERS OF THE DUBLIN FIRE BRIGADE BY GENERAL REQUEST SETS FIRE -TO BLOOM. LAMENTATIONS. -THE CITIZEN Thank heaven -BLOOM IN A SEAMLESS GARMENT MARKED I. H. S. STANDS UPRIGHT AMID PHOENIX -FLAMES Weep not for me, O daughters of Erin. -HE EXHIBITS TO DUBLIN REPORTERS TRACES OF BURNING. THE DAUGHTERS OF -ERIN, IN BLACK GARMENTS, WITH LARGE PRAYERBOOKS AND LONG LIGHTED CANDLES -IN THEIR HANDS, KNEEL DOWN AND PRAY. -THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIN -Kidney of Bloom, pray for us -Flower of the Bath, pray for us -Mentor of Menton, pray for us -Canvasser for the Freeman, pray for us -Charitable Mason, pray for us -Wandering Soap, pray for us -Sweets of Sin, pray for us -Music without Words, pray for us -Reprover of the Citizen, pray for us -Friend of all Frillies, pray for us -Midwife Most Merciful, pray for us -Potato Preservative against Plague and Pestilence, pray for us. -A CHOIR OF SIX HUNDRED VOICES, CONDUCTED BY VINCENT O'BRIEN, SINGS THE -CHORUS FROM HANDEL'S MESSIAH ALLELUIA FOR THE LORD GOD OMNIPOTENT -REIGNETH, ACCOMPANIED ON THE ORGAN BY JOSEPH GLYNN. BLOOM BECOMES MUTE, -SHRUNKEN, CARBONISED. -ZOE Talk away till you're black in the face. -BLOOM IN CAUBEEN WITH CLAY PIPE STUCK IN THE BAND, DUSTY BROGUES, AN -EMIGRANT'S RED HANDKERCHIEF BUNDLE IN HIS HAND, LEADING A BLACK BOGOAK -PIG BY A SUGAUN, WITH A SMILE IN HIS EYE Let me be going now, woman of -the house, for by all the goats in Connemara I'm after having the father -and mother of a bating. WITH A TEAR IN HIS EYE All insanity. -Patriotism, sorrow for the dead, music, future of the race. To be or not -to be. Life's dream is o'er. End it peacefully. They can live on. HE -GAZES FAR AWAY MOURNFULLY I am ruined. A few pastilles of aconite. The -blinds drawn. A letter. Then lie back to rest. HE BREATHES SOFTLY No -more. I have lived. Fare. Farewell. -ZOE STIFFLY, HER FINGER IN HER NECKFILLET Honest? Till the next time. -SHE SNEERS Suppose you got up the wrong side of the bed or came too -quick with your best girl. O, I can read your thoughts -BLOOM BITTERLY Man and woman, love, what is it? A cork and bottle. I'm -sick of it. Let everything rip. -ZOE IN SUDDEN SULKS I hate a rotter that's insincere. Give a bleeding -whore a chance. -BLOOM REPENTANTLY I am very disagreeable. You are a necessary evil. -Where are you from? London? -ZOE GLIBLY Hog's Norton where the pigs plays the organs. I'm Yorkshire -born. SHE HOLDS HIS HAND WHICH IS FEELING FOR HER NIPPLE I say, Tommy -Tittlemouse. Stop that and begin worse. Have you cash for a short time? -Ten shillings? -BLOOM SMILES, NODS SLOWLY More, houri, more. -ZOE And more's mother? SHE PATS HIM OFFHANDEDLY WITH VELVET PAWS Are -you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Come and I'll peel -off. -BLOOM FEELING HIS OCCIPUT DUBIOUSLY WITH THE UNPARALLELED EMBARRASSMENT -OF A HARASSED PEDLAR GAUGING THE SYMMETRY OF HER PEELED PEARS Somebody -would be dreadfully jealous if she knew. The greeneyed monster. -EARNESTLY You know how difficult it is. I needn't tell you. -ZOE FLATTERED What the eye can't see the heart can't grieve for. SHE -PATS HIM Come. -BLOOM Laughing witch The hand that rocks the cradle. -ZOE Babby -BLOOM IN BABYLINEN AND PELISSE, BIGHEADED, WITH A CAUL OF DARK HAIR, -FIXES BIG EYES ON HER FLUID SLIP AND COUNTS ITS BRONZE BUCKLES WITH A -CHUBBY FINGER, HIS MOIST TONGUE LOLLING AND LISPING One two tlee tlee -tlwo tlone. -THE BUCKLES Love me. Love me not. Love me. -ZOE Silent means consent. WITH LITTLE PARTED TALONS SHE CAPTURES HIS -HAND, HER FOREFINGER GIVING TO HIS PALM THE PASSTOUCH OF SECRET MONITOR, -LURING HIM TO DOOM. Hot hands cold gizzard. -HE HESITATES AMID SCENTS, MUSIC, TEMPTATIONS. SHE LEADS HIM TOWARDS THE -STEPS, DRAWING HIM BY THE ODOUR OF HER ARMPITS, THE VICE OF HER PAINTED -EYES, THE RUSTLE OF HER SLIP IN WHOSE SINUOUS FOLDS LURKS THE LION REEK -OF ALL THE MALE BRUTES THAT HAVE POSSESSED HER. -THE MALE BRUTES EXHALING SULPHUR OF RUT AND DUNG AND RAMPING IN THEIR -LOOSEBOX, FAINTLY ROARING, THEIR DRUGGED HEADS SWAYING TO AND FRO Good -ZOE AND BLOOM REACH THE DOORWAY WHERE TWO SISTER WHORES ARE SEATED. THEY -EXAMINE HIM CURIOUSLY FROM UNDER THEIR PENCILLED BROWS AND SMILE TO HIS -HASTY BOW. HE TRIPS AWKWARDLY. -ZOE HER LUCKY HAND INSTANTLY SAVING HIM Hoopsa Don't fall upstairs. -BLOOM The just man falls seven times. HE STANDS ASIDE AT THE THRESHOLD -After you is good manners. -ZOE Ladies first, gentlemen after. -SHE CROSSES THE THRESHOLD. HE HESITATES. SHE TURNS AND, HOLDING OUT HER -HANDS, DRAWS HIM OVER. HE HOPS. ON THE ANTLERED RACK OF THE HALL HANG A -MAN 'S HAT AND WATERPROOF. BLOOM UNCOVERS HIMSELF BUT, SEEING THEM, -FROWNS, THEN SMILES, PREOCCUPIED. A DOOR ON THE RETURN LANDING IS FLUNG -OPEN. A MAN IN PURPLE SHIRT AND GREY TROUSERS, BROWNSOCKED, PASSES WITH -AN APE'S GAIT, HIS BALD HEAD AND GOATEE BEARD UPHELD, HUGGING A FULL -WATERJUGJAR, HIS TWOTAILED BLACK BRACES DANGLING AT HEELS. AVERTING HIS -FACE QUICKLY BLOOM BENDS TO EXAMINE ON THE HALLTABLE THE SPANIEL EYES OF -A RUNNING FOX THEN, HIS LIFTED HEAD SNIFFING, FOLLOWS ZOE INTO THE -MUSICROOM. A SHADE OF MAUVE TISSUEPAPER DIMS THE LIGHT OF THE CHANDELIER. -ROUND AND ROUND A MOTH FLIES, COLLIDING, ESCAPING. THE FLOOR IS COVERED -WITH AN OILCLOTH MOSAIC OF JADE AND AZURE AND CINNABAR RHOMBOIDS. -FOOTMARKS ARE STAMPED OVER IT IN ALL SENSES, HEEL TO HEEL, HEEL TO -HOLLOW, TOE TO TOE, FEET LOCKED, A MORRIS OF SHUFFLING FEET WITHOUT BODY -PHANTOMS, ALL IN A SCRIMMAGE HIGGLEDYPIGGLEDY. THE WALLS ARE TAPESTRIED -WITH A PAPER OF YEWFRONDS AND CLEAR GLADES. IN THE GRATE IS SPREAD A -SCREEN OF PEACOCK FEATHERS. LYNCH SQUATS CROSSLEGGED ON THE HEARTHRUG OF -MATTED HAIR, HIS CAP BACK TO THE FRONT. WITH A WAND HE BEATS TIME SLOWLY. -KITTY RICKETTS, A BONY PALLID WHORE IN NAVY COSTUME, DOESKIN GLOVES -ROLLED BACK FROM A CORAL WRISTLET, A CHAIN PURSE IN HER HAND, SITS -PERCHED ON THE EDGE OF THE TABLE SWINGING HER LEG AND GLANCING AT HERSELF -IN THE GILT MIRROR OVER THE MANTELPIECE. A TAG OF HER CORSETLACE HANGS -SLIGHTLY BELOW HER JACKET. LYNCH INDICATES MOCKINGLY THE COUPLE AT THE -PIANO. -KITTY COUGHS BEHIND HER HAND She's a bit imbecillic. SHE SIGNS WITH A -WAGGLING FOREFINGER Blemblem. LYNCH LIFTS UP HER SKIRT AND WHITE -PETTICOAT WITH HIS WAND SHE SETTLES THEM DOWN QUICKLY. Respect yourself. -SHE HICCUPS, THEN BENDS QUICKLY HER SAILOR HAT UNDER WHICH HER HAIR -GLOWS, RED WITH HENNA O, excuse -ZOE More limelight, Charley. SHE GOES TO THE CHANDELIER AND TURNS THE -GAS FULL COCK -KITTY PEERS AT THE GASJET What ails it tonight? -LYNCH DEEPLY Enter a ghost and hobgoblins. -ZOE Clap on the back for Zoe. -THE WAND IN LYNCH'S HAND FLASHES A BRASS POKER. STEPHEN STANDS AT THE -PIANOLA ON WHICH SPRAWL HIS HAT AND ASHPLANT. WITH TWO FINGERS HE REPEATS -ONCE MORE THE SERIES OF EMPTY FIFTHS. FLORRY TALBOT, A BLOND FEEBLE -GOOSEFAT WHORE IN A TATTERDEMALION GOWN OF MILDEWED STRAWBERRY, LOLLS -SPREADEAGLE IN THE SOFACORNER, HER LIMP FOREARM PENDENT OVER THE BOLSTER, -LISTENING. A HEAVY STYE DROOPS OVER HER SLEEPY EYELID. -KITTY HICCUPS AGAIN WITH A KICK OF HER HORSED FOOT O, excuse -ZOE PROMPTLY Your boy's thinking of you. Tie a knot on your shift. -KITTY RICKETTS BENDS HER HEAD. HER BOA UNCOILS, SLIDES, GLIDES OVER HER -SHOULDER, BACK, ARM, CHAIR TO THE GROUND. LYNCH LIFTS THE CURLED -CATERPILLAR ON HIS WAND. SHE SNAKES HER NECK, NESTLING. STEPHEN GLANCES -BEHIND AT THE SQUATTED FIGURE WITH ITS CAP BACK TO THE FRONT. -STEPHEN As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto -Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet's rest. It may be an -old hymn to Demeter or also illustrate COELA ENARRANT GLORIAM DOMINI. It -is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and -mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David's -that is Circe's or what am I saying Ceres' altar and David's tip from the -stable to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his almightiness. -MAIS NOM DE NOM, that is another pair of trousers. JETEZ LA GOURME. FAUT -QUE JEUNESSE SE PASSE. HE STOPS, POINTS AT LYNCH'S CAP, SMILES, LAUGHS -Which side is your knowledge bump? -THE CAP WITH SATURNINE SPLEEN Bah It is because it is. Woman's -reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of -life. Bah -STEPHEN You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes. -How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone -THE CAP Bah -STEPHEN Here's another for you. HE FROWNS The reason is because the -fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible -interval which ... -THE CAP Which? Finish. You can't. -STEPHEN WITH AN EFFORT Interval which. Is the greatest possible -ellipse. Consistent with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which. -THE CAP Which? -OUTSIDE THE GRAMOPHONE BEGINS TO BLARE The Holy City. -STEPHEN ABRUPTLY What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse -not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having -itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait -a second. Damn that fellow's noise in the street. Self which it itself -was ineluctably preconditioned to become. ECCO -LYNCH WITH A MOCKING WHINNY OF LAUGHTER GRINS AT BLOOM AND ZOE HIGGINS -What a learned speech, eh? -ZOE BRISKLY God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten. -WITH OBESE STUPIDITY FLORRY TALBOT REGARDS STEPHEN. -FLORRY They say the last day is coming this summer. -KITTY No -ZOE EXPLODES IN LAUGHTER Great unjust God -FLORRY OFFENDED Well, it was in the papers about Antichrist. O, my -foot's tickling. -RAGGED BAREFOOT NEWSBOYS, JOGGING A WAGTAIL KITE, PATTER PAST, YELLING. -THE NEWSBOYS Stop press edition. Result of the rockinghorse races. Sea -serpent in the royal canal. Safe arrival of Antichrist. -STEPHEN TURNS AND SEES BLOOM. -STEPHEN A time, times and half a time. -REUBEN I ANTICHRIST, WANDERING JEW, A CLUTCHING HAND OPEN ON HIS SPINE, -STUMPS FORWARD. ACROSS HIS LOINS IS SLUNG A PILGRIM'S WALLET FROM WHICH -PROTRUDE PROMISSORY NOTES AND DISHONOURED BILLS. ALOFT OVER HIS SHOULDER -HE BEARS A LONG BOATPOLE FROM THE HOOK OF WHICH THE SODDEN HUDDLED MASS -OF HIS ONLY SON, SAVED FROM LIFFEY WATERS, HANGS FROM THE SLACK OF ITS -BREECHES. A HOBGOBLIN IN THE IMAGE OF PUNCH COSTELLO, HIPSHOT, -CROOKBACKED, HYDROCEPHALIC, PROGNATHIC WITH RECEDING FOREHEAD AND ALLY -SLOPER NOSE, TUMBLES IN SOMERSAULTS THROUGH THE GATHERING DARKNESS. -ALL What? -THE HOBGOBLIN HIS JAWS CHATTERING, CAPERS TO AND FRO, GOGGLING HIS -EYES, SQUEAKING, KANGAROOHOPPING WITH OUTSTRETCHED CLUTCHING ARMS, THEN -ALL AT ONCE THRUSTS HIS LIPLESS FACE THROUGH THE FORK OF HIS THIGHS IL -VIENT C'EST MOI L'HOMME QUI RIT L'HOMME PRIMIGENE HE WHIRLS ROUND -AND ROUND WITH DERVISH HOWLS SIEURS ET DAMES, FAITES VOS JEUX HE -CROUCHES JUGGLING. TINY ROULETTE PLANETS FLY FROM HIS HANDS. LES JEUX -SONT FAITS THE PLANETS RUSH TOGETHER, UTTERING CREPITANT CRACKS RIEN -VA PLUS THE PLANETS, BUOYANT BALLOONS, SAIL SWOLLEN UP AND AWAY. HE -SPRINGS OFF INTO VACUUM. -FLORRY SINKING INTO TORPOR, CROSSING HERSELF SECRETLY The end of the -world -A FEMALE TEPID EFFLUVIUM LEAKS OUT FROM HER. NEBULOUS OBSCURITY OCCUPIES -SPACE. THROUGH THE DRIFTING FOG WITHOUT THE GRAMOPHONE BLARES OVER COUGHS -AND FEETSHUFFLING. -THE GRAMOPHONE Jerusalem -Open your gates and sing -Hosanna ... -A ROCKET RUSHES UP THE SKY AND BURSTS. A WHITE STAR FILLS FROM IT, -PROCLAIMING THE CONSUMMATION OF ALL THINGS AND SECOND COMING OF ELIJAH. -ALONG AN INFINITE INVISIBLE TIGHTROPE TAUT FROM ZENITH TO NADIR THE END -OF THE WORLD, A TWOHEADED OCTOPUS IN GILLIE'S KILTS, BUSBY AND TARTAN -FILIBEGS, WHIRLS THROUGH THE MURK, HEAD OVER HEELS, IN THE FORM OF THE -THREE LEGS OF MAN. -THE END OF THE WORLD WITH A SCOTCH ACCENT Wha'll dance the keel row, -the keel row, the keel row? -OVER THE POSSING DRIFT AND CHOKING BREATHCOUGHS, ELIJAH'S VOICE, HARSH -AS A CORNCRAKE'S, JARS ON HIGH. PERSPIRING IN A LOOSE LAWN SURPLICE WITH -FUNNEL SLEEVES HE IS SEEN, VERGERFACED, ABOVE A ROSTRUM ABOUT WHICH THE -BANNER OF OLD GLORY IS DRAPED. HE THUMPS THE PARAPET. -ELIJAH No yapping, if you please, in this booth. Jake Crane, Creole Sue, -Dove Campbell, Abe Kirschner, do your coughing with your mouths shut. -Say, I am operating all this trunk line. Boys, do it now. God's time is -.. Tell mother you'll be there. Rush your order and you play a slick -ace. Join on right here. Book through to eternity junction, the nonstop -run. Just one word more. Are you a god or a doggone clod? If the second -advent came to Coney Island are we ready? Florry Christ, Stephen Christ, -Zoe Christ, Bloom Christ, Kitty Christ, Lynch Christ, it's up to you to -sense that cosmic force. Have we cold feet about the cosmos? No. Be on -the side of the angels. Be a prism. You have that something within, the -higher self. You can rub shoulders with a Jesus, a Gautama, an Ingersoll. -Are you all in this vibration? I say you are. You once nobble that, -congregation, and a buck joyride to heaven becomes a back number. You got -me? It's a lifebrightener, sure. The hottest stuff ever was. It's the -whole pie with jam in. It's just the cutest snappiest line out. It is -immense, supersumptuous. It restores. It vibrates. I know and I am some -vibrator. Joking apart and, getting down to bedrock, A. J. Christ Dowie -and the harmonial philosophy, have you got that? O. K. Seventyseven west -sixtyninth street. Got me? That's it. You call me up by sunphone any old -time. Bumboosers, save your stamps. HE SHOUTS Now then our glory song. -All join heartily in the singing. Encore HE SINGS Jeru ... -THE GRAMOPHONE DROWNING HIS VOICE Whorusalaminyourhighhohhhh ... THE -DISC RASPS GRATINGLY AGAINST THE NEEDLE -THE THREE WHORES COVERING THEIR EARS, SQUAWK Ahhkkk -ELIJAH IN ROLLEDUP SHIRTSLEEVES, BLACK IN THE FACE, SHOUTS AT THE TOP -OF HIS VOICE, HIS ARMS UPLIFTED Big Brother up there, Mr President, you -hear what I done just been saying to you. Certainly, I sort of believe -strong in you, Mr President. I certainly am thinking now Miss Higgins and -Miss Ricketts got religion way inside them. Certainly seems to me I don't -never see no wusser scared female than the way you been, Miss Florry, -just now as I done seed you. Mr President, you come long and help me save -our sisters dear. HE WINKS AT HIS AUDIENCE Our Mr President, he twig -the whole lot and he aint saying nothing. -KITTYKATE I forgot myself. In a weak moment I erred and did what I did -on Constitution hill. I was confirmed by the bishop and enrolled in the -brown scapular. My mother's sister married a Montmorency. It was a -working plumber was my ruination when I was pure. -ZOEFANNY I let him larrup it into me for the fun of it. -FLORRYTERESA It was in consequence of a portwine beverage on top of -Hennessy's three star. I was guilty with Whelan when he slipped into the -bed. -STEPHEN In the beginning was the word, in the end the world without end. -Blessed be the eight beatitudes. -THE BEATITUDES, DIXON, MADDEN, CROTTHERS, COSTELLO, LENEHAN, BANNON, -MULLIGAN AND LYNCH IN WHITE SURGICAL STUDENTS' GOWNS, FOUR ABREAST, -GOOSESTEPPING, TRAMP FIST PAST IN NOISY MARCHING -THE BEATITUDES INCOHERENTLY Beer beef battledog buybull businum barnum -buggerum bishop. -LYSTER IN QUAKERGREY KNEEBREECHES AND BROADBRIMMED HAT, SAYS -DISCREETLY He is our friend. I need not mention names. Seek thou the -light. -HE CORANTOS BY. BEST ENTERS IN HAIRDRESSER'S ATTIRE, SHINILY LAUNDERED, -HIS LOCKS IN CURLPAPERS. HE LEADS JOHN EGLINTON WHO WEARS A MANDARIN'S -KIMONO OF NANKEEN YELLOW, LIZARDLETTERED, AND A HIGH PAGODA HAT. -BEST SMILING, LIFTS THE HAT AND DISPLAYS A SHAVEN POLL FROM THE CROWN -OF WHICH BRISTLES A PIGTAIL TOUPEE TIED WITH AN ORANGE TOPKNOT I was -just beautifying him, don't you know. A thing of beauty, don't you know, -Yeats says, or I mean, Keats says. -JOHN EGLINTON PRODUCES A GREENCAPPED DARK LANTERN AND FLASHES IT -TOWARDS A CORNER WITH CARPING ACCENT Esthetics and cosmetics are for -the boudoir. I am out for truth. Plain truth for a plain man. Tanderagee -wants the facts and means to get them. -IN THE CONE OF THE SEARCHLIGHT BEHIND THE COALSCUTTLE, OLLAVE, HOLYEYED, -THE BEARDED FIGURE OF MANANAUN MACLIR BROODS, CHIN ON KNEES. HE RISES -SLOWLY. A COLD SEAWIND BLOWS FROM HIS DRUID MOUTH. ABOUT HIS HEAD WRITHE -EELS AND ELVERS. HE IS ENCRUSTED WITH WEEDS AND SHELLS. HIS RIGHT HAND -HOLDS A BICYCLE PUMP. HIS LEFT HAND GRASPS A HUGE CRAYFISH BY ITS TWO -TALONS. -MANANAUN MACLIR WITH A VOICE OF WAVES Aum Hek Wal Ak Lub Mor Ma -White yoghin of the gods. Occult pimander of Hermes Trismegistos. WITH A -VOICE OF WHISTLING SEAWIND Punarjanam patsypunjaub I won't have my leg -pulled. It has been said by one beware the left, the cult of Shakti. -WITH A CRY OF STORMBIRDS Shakti Shiva, darkhidden Father HE SMITES -WITH HIS BICYCLE PUMP THE CRAYFISH IN HIS LEFT HAND. ON ITS COOPERATIVE -DIAL GLOW THE TWELVE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC. HE WAILS WITH THE VEHEMENCE OF -THE OCEAN. Aum Baum Pyjaum I am the light of the homestead I am the -dreamery creamery butter. -A SKELETON JUDASHAND STRANGLES THE LIGHT. THE GREEN LIGHT WANES TO -MAUVE. THE GASJET WAILS WHISTLING. -THE GASJET Pooah Pfuiiiiiii -ZOE RUNS TO THE CHANDELIER AND, CROOKING HER LEG, ADJUSTS THE MANTLE. -ZOE Who has a fag as I'm here? -LYNCH TOSSING A CIGARETTE ON TO THE TABLE Here. -ZOE HER HEAD PERCHED ASIDE IN MOCK PRIDE Is that the way to hand the -POT to a lady? SHE STRETCHES UP TO LIGHT THE CIGARETTE OVER THE FLAME, -TWIRLING IT SLOWLY, SHOWING THE BROWN TUFTS OF HER ARMPITS. LYNCH WITH -HIS POKER LIFTS BOLDLY A SIDE OF HER SLIP. BARE FROM HER GARTERS UP HER -FLESH APPEARS UNDER THE SAPPHIRE A NIXIE'S GREEN. SHE PUFFS CALMLY AT HER -CIGARETTE. Can you see the beautyspot of my behind? -LYNCH I'm not looking -ZOE MAKES SHEEP'S EYES No? You wouldn't do a less thing. Would you -suck a lemon? -SQUINTING IN MOCK SHAME SHE GLANCES WITH SIDELONG MEANING AT BLOOM, THEN -TWISTS ROUND TOWARDS HIM, PULLING HER SLIP FREE OF THE POKER. BLUE FLUID -AGAIN FLOWS OVER HER FLESH. BLOOM STANDS, SMILING DESIROUSLY, TWIRLING -HIS THUMBS. KITTY RICKETTS LICKS HER MIDDLE FINGER WITH HER SPITTLE AND, -GAZING IN THE MIRROR, SMOOTHS BOTH EYEBROWS. LIPOTI VIRAG, -BASILICOGRAMMATE, CHUTES RAPIDLY DOWN THROUGH THE CHIMNEYFLUE AND STRUTS -TWO STEPS TO THE LEFT ON GAWKY PINK STILTS. HE IS SAUSAGED INTO SEVERAL -OVERCOATS AND WEARS A BROWN MACINTOSH UNDER WHICH HE HOLDS A ROLL OF -PARCHMENT. IN HIS LEFT EYE FLASHES THE MONOCLE OF CASHEL BOYLE O'CONNOR -FITZMAURICE TISDALL FARRELL. ON HIS HEAD IS PERCHED AN EGYPTIAN PSHENT. -TWO QUILLS PROJECT OVER HIS EARS. -VIRAG HEELS TOGETHER, BOWS My name is Virag Lipoti, of Szombathely. -HE COUGHS THOUGHTFULLY, DRILY Promiscuous nakedness is much in evidence -hereabouts, eh? Inadvertently her backview revealed the fact that she is -not wearing those rather intimate garments of which you are a particular -devotee. The injection mark on the thigh I hope you perceived? Good. -BLOOM Granpapachi. But ... -VIRAG Number two on the other hand, she of the cherry rouge and -coiffeuse white, whose hair owes not a little to our tribal elixir of -gopherwood, is in walking costume and tightly staysed by her sit, I -should opine. Backbone in front, so to say. Correct me but I always -understood that the act so performed by skittish humans with glimpses of -lingerie appealed to you in virtue of its exhibitionististicicity. In a -word. Hippogriff. Am I right? -BLOOM She is rather lean. -VIRAG NOT UNPLEASANTLY Absolutely Well observed and those pannier -pockets of the skirt and slightly pegtop effect are devised to suggest -bunchiness of hip. A new purchase at some monster sale for which a gull -has been mulcted. Meretricious finery to deceive the eye. Observe the -attention to details of dustspecks. Never put on you tomorrow what you -can wear today. Parallax WITH A NERVOUS TWITCH OF HIS HEAD Did you -hear my brain go snap? Pollysyllabax -BLOOM AN ELBOW RESTING IN A HAND, A FOREFINGER AGAINST HIS CHEEK She -seems sad. -VIRAG CYNICALLY, HIS WEASEL TEETH BARED YELLOW, DRAWS DOWN HIS LEFT EYE -WITH A FINGER AND BARKS HOARSELY Hoax Beware of the flapper and bogus -mournful. Lily of the alley. All possess bachelor's button discovered by -Rualdus Columbus. Tumble her. Columble her. Chameleon. MORE GENIALLY -Well then, permit me to draw your attention to item number three. There -is plenty of her visible to the naked eye. Observe the mass of oxygenated -vegetable matter on her skull. What ho, she bumps The ugly duckling of -the party, longcasted and deep in keel. -BLOOM REGRETFULLY When you come out without your gun. -VIRAG We can do you all brands, mild, medium and strong. Pay your money, -take your choice. How happy could you be with either ... -BLOOM With ...? -VIRAG HIS TONGUE UPCURLING Lyum Look. Her beam is broad. She is -coated with quite a considerable layer of fat. Obviously mammal in weight -of bosom you remark that she has in front well to the fore two -protuberances of very respectable dimensions, inclined to fall in the -noonday soupplate, while on her rere lower down are two additional -protuberances, suggestive of potent rectum and tumescent for palpation, -which leave nothing to be desired save compactness. Such fleshy parts are -the product of careful nurture. When coopfattened their livers reach an -elephantine size. Pellets of new bread with fennygreek and gumbenjamin -swamped down by potions of green tea endow them during their brief -existence with natural pincushions of quite colossal blubber. That suits -your book, eh? Fleshhotpots of Egypt to hanker after. Wallow in it. -Lycopodium. HIS THROAT TWITCHES Slapbang There he goes again. -BLOOM The stye I dislike. -VIRAG ARCHES HIS EYEBROWS Contact with a goldring, they say. -ARGUMENTUM AD FEMINAM, as we said in old Rome and ancient Greece in the -consulship of Diplodocus and Ichthyosauros. For the rest Eve's sovereign -remedy. Not for sale. Hire only. Huguenot. HE TWITCHES It is a funny -sound. HE COUGHS ENCOURAGINGLY But possibly it is only a wart. I -presume you shall have remembered what I will have taught you on that -head? Wheatenmeal with honey and nutmeg. -BLOOM REFLECTING Wheatenmeal with lycopodium and syllabax. This -searching ordeal. It has been an unusually fatiguing day, a chapter of -accidents. Wait. I mean, wartsblood spreads warts, you said ... -VIRAG SEVERELY, HIS NOSE HARDHUMPED, HIS SIDE EYE WINKING Stop -twirling your thumbs and have a good old thunk. See, you have forgotten. -Exercise your mnemotechnic. LA CAUSA E SANTA. Tara. Tara. ASIDE He will -surely remember. -BLOOM Rosemary also did I understand you to say or willpower over -parasitic tissues. Then nay no I have an inkling. The touch of a deadhand -cures. Mnemo? -VIRAG EXCITEDLY I say so. I say so. E'en so. Technic. HE TAPS HIS -PARCHMENTROLL ENERGETICALLY This book tells you how to act with all -descriptive particulars. Consult index for agitated fear of aconite, -melancholy of muriatic, priapic pulsatilla. Virag is going to talk about -amputation. Our old friend caustic. They must be starved. Snip off with -horsehair under the denned neck. But, to change the venue to the Bulgar -and the Basque, have you made up your mind whether you like or dislike -women in male habiliments? WITH A DRY SNIGGER You intended to devote an -entire year to the study of the religious problem and the summer months -of to square the circle and win that million. Pomegranate From the -sublime to the ridiculous is but a step. Pyjamas, let us say? Or -stockingette gussetted knickers, closed? Or, put we the case, those -complicated combinations, camiknickers? HE CROWS DERISIVELY -Keekeereekee -BLOOM SURVEYS UNCERTAINLY THE THREE WHORES THEN GAZES AT THE VEILED -MAUVE LIGHT, HEARING THE EVERFLYING MOTH. -BLOOM I wanted then to have now concluded. Nightdress was never. Hence -this. But tomorrow is a new day will be. Past was is today. What now is -will then morrow as now was be past yester. -VIRAG PROMPTS IN A PIG'S WHISPER Insects of the day spend their brief -existence in reiterated coition, lured by the smell of the inferiorly -pulchritudinous fumale possessing extendified pudendal nerve in dorsal -region. Pretty Poll HIS YELLOW PARROTBEAK GABBLES NASALLY They had a -proverb in the Carpathians in or about the year five thousand five -hundred and fifty of our era. One tablespoonful of honey will attract -friend Bruin more than half a dozen barrels of first choice malt vinegar. -Bear's buzz bothers bees. But of this apart. At another time we may -resume. We were very pleased, we others. HE COUGHS AND, BENDING HIS -BROW, RUBS HIS NOSE THOUGHTFULLY WITH A SCOOPING HAND You shall find -that these night insects follow the light. An illusion for remember their -complex unadjustable eye. For all these knotty points see the seventeenth -book of my Fundamentals of Sexology or the Love Passion which Doctor L.B. -says is the book sensation of the year. Some, to example, there are again -whose movements are automatic. Perceive. That is his appropriate sun. -Nightbird nightsun nighttown. Chase me, Charley he blows into Bloom's -ear Buzz -BLOOM Bee or bluebottle too other day butting shadow on wall dazed self -then me wandered dazed down shirt good job I ... -VIRAG HIS FACE IMPASSIVE, LAUGHS IN A RICH FEMININE KEY Splendid -Spanish fly in his fly or mustard plaster on his dibble. HE GOBBLES -GLUTTONOUSLY WITH TURKEY WATTLES Bubbly jock Bubbly jock Where are we? -Open Sesame Cometh forth HE UNROLLS HIS PARCHMENT RAPIDLY AND READS, -HIS GLOWWORM'S NOSE RUNNING BACKWARDS OVER THE LETTERS WHICH HE CLAWS -Stay, good friend. I bring thee thy answer. Redbank oysters will shortly -be upon us. I'm the best o'cook. Those succulent bivalves may help us and -the truffles of Perigord, tubers dislodged through mister omnivorous -porker, were unsurpassed in cases of nervous debility or viragitis. -Though they stink yet they sting. HE WAGS HIS HEAD WITH CACKLING -RAILLERY Jocular. With my eyeglass in my ocular. HE SNEEZES Amen -BLOOM ABSENTLY Ocularly woman's bivalve case is worse. Always open -sesame. The cloven sex. Why they fear vermin, creeping things. Yet Eve -and the serpent contradicts. Not a historical fact. Obvious analogy to my -idea. Serpents too are gluttons for woman's milk. Wind their way through -miles of omnivorous forest to sucksucculent her breast dry. Like those -bubblyjocular Roman matrons one reads of in Elephantuliasis. -VIRAG HIS MOUTH PROJECTED IN HARD WRINKLES, EYES STONILY FORLORNLY -CLOSED, PSALMS IN OUTLANDISH MONOTONE That the cows with their those -distended udders that they have been the the known ... -BLOOM I am going to scream. I beg your pardon. Ah? So. HE REPEATS -Spontaneously to seek out the saurian's lair in order to entrust their -teats to his avid suction. Ant milks aphis. PROFOUNDLY Instinct rules -the world. In life. In death. -VIRAG HEAD ASKEW, ARCHES HIS BACK AND HUNCHED WINGSHOULDERS, PEERS AT -THE MOTH OUT OF BLEAR BULGED EYES, POINTS A HORNING CLAW AND CRIES Who's -moth moth? Who's dear Gerald? Dear Ger, that you? O dear, he is Gerald. -O, I much fear he shall be most badly burned. Will some pleashe pershon -not now impediment so catastrophics mit agitation of firstclass -tablenumpkin? HE MEWS Puss puss puss puss HE SIGHS, DRAWS BACK AND -STARES SIDEWAYS DOWN WITH DROPPING UNDERJAW Well, well. He doth rest -anon. he snaps his jaws suddenly on the air -THE MOTH -I'm a tiny tiny thing -Ever flying in the spring -Round and round a ringaring. -Long ago I was a king -Now I do this kind of thing -On the wing, on the wing -Bing -HE RUSHES AGAINST THE MAUVE SHADE, FLAPPING NOISILY Pretty pretty -pretty pretty pretty pretty petticoats. -FROM LEFT UPPER ENTRANCE WITH TWO GLIDING STEPS HENRY FLOWER COMES -FORWARD TO LEFT FRONT CENTRE. HE WEARS A DARK MANTLE AND DROOPING PLUMED -SOMBRERO. HE CARRIES A SILVERSTRINGED INLAID DULCIMER AND A LONGSTEMMED -BAMBOO JACOB'S PIPE, ITS CLAY BOWL FASHIONED AS A FEMALE HEAD. HE WEARS -DARK VELVET HOSE AND SILVERBUCKLED PUMPS. HE HAS THE ROMANTIC SAVIOUR'S -FACE WITH FLOWING LOCKS, THIN BEARD AND MOUSTACHE. HIS SPINDLELEGS AND -SPARROW FEET ARE THOSE OF THE TENOR MARIO, PRINCE OF CANDIA. HE SETTLES -DOWN HIS GOFFERED RUFFS AND MOISTENS HIS LIPS WITH A PASSAGE OF HIS -AMOROUS TONGUE. -HENRY IN A LOW DULCET VOICE, TOUCHING THE STRINGS OF HIS GUITAR There -is a flower that bloometh. -VIRAG TRUCULENT, HIS JOWL SET, STARES AT THE LAMP. GRAVE BLOOM REGARDS -ZOE'S NECK. HENRY GALLANT TURNS WITH PENDANT DEWLAP TO THE PIANO. -STEPHEN TO HIMSELF Play with your eyes shut. Imitate pa. Filling my -belly with husks of swine. Too much of this. I will arise and go to my. -Expect this is the. Steve, thou art in a parlous way. Must visit old -Deasy or telegraph. Our interview of this morning has left on me a deep -impression. Though our ages. Will write fully tomorrow. I'm partially -drunk, by the way. HE TOUCHES THE KEYS AGAIN Minor chord comes now. -Yes. Not much however. -ALMIDANO ARTIFONI HOLDS OUT A BATONROLL OF MUSIC WITH VIGOROUS -MOUSTACHEWORK. -ARTIFONI CI RIFLETTA. LEI ROVINA TUTTO. -FLORRY Sing us something. Love's old sweet song. -STEPHEN No voice. I am a most finished artist. Lynch, did I show you the -letter about the lute? -FLORRY SMIRKING The bird that can sing and won't sing. -THE SIAMESE TWINS, PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER, TWO OXFORD DONS WITH -LAWNMOWERS, APPEAR IN THE WINDOW EMBRASURE. BOTH ARE MASKED WITH MATTHEW -ARNOLD'S FACE. -PHILIP SOBER Take a fool's advice. All is not well. Work it out with the -buttend of a pencil, like a good young idiot. Three pounds twelve you -got, two notes, one sovereign, two crowns, if youth but knew. Mooney's en -ville, Mooney's sur mer, the Moira, Larchet's, Holles street hospital, -Burke's. Eh? I am watching you. -PHILIP DRUNK IMPATIENTLY Ah, bosh, man. Go to hell I paid my way. If -I could only find out about octaves. Reduplication of personality. Who -was it told me his name? HIS LAWNMOWER BEGINS TO PURR Aha, yes. ZOE MOU -SAS AGAPO. Have a notion I was here before. When was it not Atkinson his -card I have somewhere. Mac Somebody. Unmack I have it. He told me about, -hold on, Swinburne, was it, no? -FLORRY And the song? -STEPHEN Spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. -FLORRY Are you out of Maynooth? You're like someone I knew once. -STEPHEN Out of it now. TO HIMSELF Clever. -PHILIP DRUNK AND PHILIP SOBER THEIR LAWNMOWERS PURRING WITH A RIGADOON -OF GRASSHALMS Clever ever. Out of it out of it. By the bye have you the -book, the thing, the ashplant? Yes, there it, yes. Cleverever outofitnow. -Keep in condition. Do like us. -ZOE There was a priest down here two nights ago to do his bit of -business with his coat buttoned up. You needn't try to hide, I says to -him. I know you've a Roman collar. -VIRAG Perfectly logical from his standpoint. Fall of man. HARSHLY, HIS -PUPILS WAXING To hell with the pope Nothing new under the sun. I am the -Virag who disclosed the Sex Secrets of Monks and Maidens. Why I left the -church of Rome. Read the Priest, the Woman and the Confessional. Penrose. -Flipperty Jippert. HE WRIGGLES Woman, undoing with sweet pudor her belt -of rushrope, offers her allmoist yoni to man's lingam. Short time after -man presents woman with pieces of jungle meat. Woman shows joy and covers -herself with featherskins. Man loves her yoni fiercely with big lingam, -the stiff one. HE CRIES COACTUS VOLUI. Then giddy woman will run about. -Strong man grapses woman's wrist. Woman squeals, bites, spucks. Man, now -fierce angry, strikes woman's fat yadgana. HE CHASES HIS TAIL Piffpaff -Popo HE STOPS, SNEEZES Pchp HE WORRIES HIS BUTT Prrrrrht -LYNCH I hope you gave the good father a penance. Nine glorias for -shooting a bishop. -ZOE SPOUTS WALRUS SMOKE THROUGH HER NOSTRILS He couldn't get a -connection. Only, you know, sensation. A dry rush. -BLOOM Poor man -ZOE LIGHTLY Only for what happened him. -BLOOM How? -VIRAG A DIABOLIC RICTUS OF BLACK LUMINOSITY CONTRACTING HIS VISAGE, -CRANES HIS SCRAGGY NECK FORWARD. HE LIFTS A MOONCALF NOZZLE AND HOWLS. -VERFLUCHTE GOIM He had a father, forty fathers. He never existed. Pig -God He had two left feet. He was Judas Iacchia, a Libyan eunuch, the -pope's bastard. HE LEANS OUT ON TORTURED FOREPAWS, ELBOWS BENT RIGID, -HIS EYE AGONISING IN HIS FLAT SKULLNECK AND YELPS OVER THE MUTE WORLD A -son of a whore. Apocalypse. -KITTY And Mary Shortall that was in the lock with the pox she got from -Jimmy Pidgeon in the blue caps had a child off him that couldn't swallow -and was smothered with the convulsions in the mattress and we all -subscribed for the funeral. -PHILIP DRUNK GRAVELY QUI VOUS A MIS DANS CETTE FICHUE POSITION, -PHILIPPE? -PHILIP SOBER GAILY C'ETAIT LE SACRE PIGEON, PHILIPPE. -KITTY UNPINS HER HAT AND SETS IT DOWN CALMLY, PATTING HER HENNA HAIR. -AND A PRETTIER, A DAINTIER HEAD OF WINSOME CURLS WAS NEVER SEEN ON A -WHORE'S SHOULDERS. LYNCH PUTS ON HER HAT. SHE WHIPS IT OFF. -LYNCH LAUGHS And to such delights has Metchnikoff inoculated -anthropoid apes. -FLORRY NODS Locomotor ataxy. -ZOE GAILY O, my dictionary. -LYNCH Three wise virgins. -VIRAG AGUESHAKEN, PROFUSE YELLOW SPAWN FOAMING OVER HIS BONY EPILEPTIC -LIPS She sold lovephiltres, whitewax, orangeflower. Panther, the Roman -centurion, polluted her with his genitories. HE STICKS OUT A FLICKERING -PHOSPHORESCENT SCORPION TONGUE, HIS HAND ON HIS FORK Messiah He burst -her tympanum. WITH GIBBERING BABOON'S CRIES HE JERKS HIS HIPS IN THE -CYNICAL SPASM Hik Hek Hak Hok Huk Kok Kuk -BEN JUMBO DOLLARD, RUBICUND, MUSCLEBOUND, HAIRYNOSTRILLED, HUGEBEARDED, -CABBAGEEARED, SHAGGYCHESTED, SHOCKMANED, FAT PAPPED, STANDS FORTH, HIS -LOINS AND GENITALS TIGHTENED INTO A PAIR OF BLACK BATHING BAGSLOPS. -BEN DOLLARD NAKKERING CASTANET BONES IN HIS HUGE PADDED PAWS, YODELS -JOVIALLY IN BASE BARRELTONE When love absorbs my ardent soul. -THE VIRGINS NURSE CALLAN AND NURSE QUIGLEY BURST THROUGH THE RINGKEEPERS -AND THE ROPES AND MOB HIM WITH OPEN ARMS. -THE VIRGINS GUSHINGLY Big Ben Ben my Chree -A VOICE Hold that fellow with the bad breeches. -BEN DOLLARD SMITES HIS THIGH IN ABUNDANT LAUGHTER Hold him now. -HENRY CARESSING ON HIS BREAST A SEVERED FEMALE HEAD, MURMURS Thine -heart, mine love. HE PLUCKS HIS LUTESTRINGS When first I saw ... -VIRAG SLOUGHING HIS SKINS, HIS MULTITUDINOUS PLUMAGE MOULTING Rats -HE YAWNS, SHOWING A COALBLACK THROAT, AND CLOSES HIS JAWS BY AN UPWARD -PUSH OF HIS PARCHMENTROLL After having said which I took my departure. -Farewell. Fare thee well. DRECK -HENRY FLOWER COMBS HIS MOUSTACHE AND BEARD RAPIDLY WITH A POCKETCOMB AND -GIVES A COW'S LICK TO HIS HAIR. STEERED BY HIS RAPIER, HE GLIDES TO THE -DOOR, HIS WILD HARP SLUNG BEHIND HIM. VIRAG REACHES THE DOOR IN TWO -UNGAINLY STILTHOPS, HIS TAIL COCKED, AND DEFTLY CLAPS SIDEWAYS ON THE -WALL A PUSYELLOW FLYBILL, BUTTING IT WITH HIS HEAD. -THE FLYBILL K. II. Post No Bills. Strictly confidential. Dr Hy Franks. -HENRY All is lost now. -VIRAG UNSCREWS HIS HEAD IN A TRICE AND HOLDS IT UNDER HIS ARM. -VIRAG'S HEAD Quack -EXEUNT SEVERALLY. -STEPHEN OVER HIS SHOULDER TO ZOE You would have preferred the fighting -parson who founded the protestant error. But beware Antisthenes, the dog -sage, and the last end of Arius Heresiarchus. The agony in the closet. -LYNCH All one and the same God to her. -STEPHEN DEVOUTLY And sovereign Lord of all things. -FLORRY TO STEPHEN I'm sure you're a spoiled priest. Or a monk. -LYNCH He is. A cardinal's son. -STEPHEN Cardinal sin. Monks of the screw. -HIS EMINENCE SIMON STEPHEN CARDINAL DEDALUS, PRIMATE OF ALL IRELAND, -APPEARS IN THE DOORWAY, DRESSED IN RED SOUTANE, SANDALS AND SOCKS. SEVEN -DWARF SIMIAN ACOLYTES, ALSO IN RED, CARDINAL SINS, UPHOLD HIS TRAIN, -PEEPING UNDER IT. HE WEARS A BATTERED SILK HAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS HEAD. HIS -THUMBS ARE STUCK IN HIS ARMPITS AND HIS PALMS OUTSPREAD. ROUND HIS NECK -HANGS A ROSARY OF CORKS ENDING ON HIS BREAST IN A CORKSCREW CROSS. -RELEASING HIS THUMBS, HE INVOKES GRACE FROM ON HIGH WITH LARGE WAVE -GESTURES AND PROCLAIMS WITH BLOATED POMP -THE CARDINAL -Conservio lies captured -He lies in the lowest dungeon -With manacles and chains around his limbs -Weighing upwards of three tons. -HE LOOKS AT ALL FOR A MOMENT, HIS RIGHT EYE CLOSED TIGHT, HIS LEFT CHEEK -PUFFED OUT. THEN, UNABLE TO REPRESS HIS MERRIMENT, HE ROCKS TO AND FRO, -ARMS AKIMBO, AND SINGS WITH BROAD ROLLICKING HUMOUR -O, the poor little fellow -Hihihihihis legs they were yellow -He was plump, fat and heavy and brisk as a snake -But some bloody savage -To graize his white cabbage -He murdered Nell Flaherty's duckloving drake. -A MULTITUDE OF MIDGES SWARMS WHITE OVER HIS ROBE. HE SCRATCHES HIMSELF -WITH CROSSED ARMS AT HIS RIBS, GRIMACING, AND EXCLAIMS -I'm suffering the agony of the damned. By the hoky fiddle, thanks be to -Jesus those funny little chaps are not unanimous. If they were they'd -walk me off the face of the bloody globe. -HIS HEAD ASLANT HE BLESSES CURTLY WITH FORE AND MIDDLE FINGERS, IMPARTS -THE EASTER KISS AND DOUBLESHUFFLES OFF COMICALLY, SWAYING HIS HAT FROM -SIDE TO SIDE, SHRINKING QUICKLY TO THE SIZE OF HIS TRAINBEARERS. THE -DWARF ACOLYTES, GIGGLING, PEEPING, NUDGING, OGLING, EASTERKISSING, ZIGZAG -BEHIND HIM. HIS VOICE IS HEARD MELLOW FROM AFAR, MERCIFUL MALE, -MELODIOUS -Shall carry my heart to thee, -Shall carry my heart to thee, -And the breath of the balmy night -Shall carry my heart to thee -THE TRICK DOORHANDLE TURNS. -THE DOORHANDLE Theeee -ZOE The devil is in that door. -A MALE FORM PASSES DOWN THE CREAKING STAIRCASE AND IS HEARD TAKING THE -WATERPROOF AND HAT FROM THE RACK. BLOOM STARTS FORWARD INVOLUNTARILY AND, -HALF CLOSING THE DOOR AS HE PASSES, TAKES THE CHOCOLATE FROM HIS POCKET -AND OFFERS IT NERVOUSLY TO ZOE. -ZOE SNIFFS HIS HAIR BRISKLY Hmmm Thank your mother for the rabbits. -I'm very fond of what I like. -BLOOM HEARING A MALE VOICE IN TALK WITH THE WHORES ON THE DOORSTEP, -PRICKS HIS EARS If it were he? After? Or because not? Or the double -event? -ZOE TEARS OPEN THE SILVERFOIL Fingers was made before forks. SHE -BREAKS OFF AND NIBBLES A PIECE GIVES A PIECE TO KITTY RICKETTS AND THEN -TURNS KITTENISHLY TO LYNCH No objection to French lozenges? HE NODS. -SHE TAUNTS HIM. Have it now or wait till you get it? HE OPENS HIS -MOUTH, HIS HEAD COCKED. SHE WHIRLS THE PRIZE IN LEFT CIRCLE. HIS HEAD -FOLLOWS. SHE WHIRLS IT BACK IN RIGHT CIRCLE. HE EYES HER. Catch -SHE TOSSES A PIECE. WITH AN ADROIT SNAP HE CATCHES IT AND BITES IT -THROUGH WITH A CRACK. -KITTY CHEWING The engineer I was with at the bazaar does have lovely -ones. Full of the best liqueurs. And the viceroy was there with his lady. -The gas we had on the Toft's hobbyhorses. I'm giddy still. -BLOOM IN SVENGALI'S FUR OVERCOAT, WITH FOLDED ARMS AND NAPOLEONIC -FORELOCK, FROWNS IN VENTRILOQUIAL EXORCISM WITH PIERCING EAGLE GLANCE -TOWARDS THE DOOR. THEN RIGID WITH LEFT FOOT ADVANCED HE MAKES A SWIFT -PASS WITH IMPELLING FINGERS AND GIVES THE SIGN OF PAST MASTER, DRAWING -HIS RIGHT ARM DOWNWARDS FROM HIS LEFT SHOULDER. Go, go, go, I conjure -you, whoever you are -A MALE COUGH AND TREAD ARE HEARD PASSING THROUGH THE MIST OUTSIDE. -BLOOM'S FEATURES RELAX. HE PLACES A HAND IN HIS WAISTCOAT, POSING CALMLY. -ZOE OFFERS HIM CHOCOLATE. -BLOOM SOLEMNLY Thanks. -ZOE Do as you're bid. Here -A FIRM HEELCLACKING TREAD IS HEARD ON THE STAIRS. -BLOOM TAKES THE CHOCOLATE Aphrodisiac? Tansy and pennyroyal. But I -bought it. Vanilla calms or? Mnemo. Confused light confuses memory. Red -influences lupus. Colours affect women's characters, any they have. This -black makes me sad. Eat and be merry for tomorrow. HE EATS Influence -taste too, mauve. But it is so long since I. Seems new. Aphro. That -priest. Must come. Better late than never. Try truffles at Andrews. -THE DOOR OPENS. BELLA COHEN, A MASSIVE WHOREMISTRESS, ENTERS. SHE IS -DRESSED IN A THREEQUARTER IVORY GOWN, FRINGED ROUND THE HEM WITH -TASSELLED SELVEDGE, AND COOLS HERSELF FLIRTING A BLACK HORN FAN LIKE -MINNIE HAUCK IN Carmen. ON HER LEFT HAND ARE WEDDING AND KEEPER RINGS. -HER EYES ARE DEEPLY CARBONED. SHE HAS A SPROUTING MOUSTACHE. HER OLIVE -FACE IS HEAVY, SLIGHTLY SWEATED AND FULLNOSED WITH ORANGETAINTED -NOSTRILS. SHE HAS LARGE PENDANT BERYL EARDROPS. -BELLA My word I'm all of a mucksweat. -SHE GLANCES ROUND HER AT THE COUPLES. THEN HER EYES REST ON BLOOM WITH -HARD INSISTENCE. HER LARGE FAN WINNOWS WIND TOWARDS HER HEATED FACENECK -AND EMBONPOINT. HER FALCON EYES GLITTER. -THE FAN FLIRTING QUICKLY, THEN SLOWLY Married, I see. -BLOOM Yes. Partly, I have mislaid ... -THE FAN HALF OPENING, THEN CLOSING And the missus is master. Petticoat -government. -BLOOM LOOKS DOWN WITH A SHEEPISH GRIN That is so. -THE FAN FOLDING TOGETHER, RESTS AGAINST HER LEFT EARDROP Have you -forgotten me? -BLOOM Yes. Yo. -THE FAN FOLDED AKIMBO AGAINST HER WAIST Is me her was you dreamed -before? Was then she him you us since knew? Am all them and the same now -we? -BELLA APPROACHES, GENTLY TAPPING WITH THE FAN. -BLOOM WINCING Powerful being. In my eyes read that slumber which women -love. -THE FAN TAPPING We have met. You are mine. It is fate. -BLOOM COWED Exuberant female. Enormously I desiderate your domination. -I am exhausted, abandoned, no more young. I stand, so to speak, with an -unposted letter bearing the extra regulation fee before the too late box -of the general postoffice of human life. The door and window open at a -right angle cause a draught of thirtytwo feet per second according to the -law of falling bodies. I have felt this instant a twinge of sciatica in -my left glutear muscle. It runs in our family. Poor dear papa, a widower, -was a regular barometer from it. He believed in animal heat. A skin of -tabby lined his winter waistcoat. Near the end, remembering king David -and the Sunamite, he shared his bed with Athos, faithful after death. A -dog's spittle as you probably ... HE WINCES Ah -RICHIE GOULDING BAGWEIGHTED, PASSES THE DOOR Mocking is catch. Best -value in Dub. Fit for a prince's. Liver and kidney. -THE FAN TAPPING All things end. Be mine. Now, -BLOOM UNDECIDED All now? I should not have parted with my talisman. -Rain, exposure at dewfall on the searocks, a peccadillo at my time of -life. Every phenomenon has a natural cause. -THE FAN POINTS DOWNWARDS SLOWLY You may. -BLOOM LOOKS DOWNWARDS AND PERCEIVES HER UNFASTENED BOOTLACE We are -observed. -THE FAN POINTS DOWNWARDS QUICKLY You must. -BLOOM WITH DESIRE, WITH RELUCTANCE I can make a true black knot. -Learned when I served my time and worked the mail order line for -Kellett's. Experienced hand. Every knot says a lot. Let me. In courtesy. -I knelt once before today. Ah -BELLA RAISES HER GOWN SLIGHTLY AND, STEADYING HER POSE, LIFTS TO THE -EDGE OF A CHAIR A PLUMP BUSKINED HOOF AND A FULL PASTERN, SILKSOCKED. -BLOOM, STIFFLEGGED, AGING, BENDS OVER HER HOOF AND WITH GENTLE FINGERS -DRAWS OUT AND IN HER LACES. -BLOOM MURMURS LOVINGLY To be a shoefitter in Manfield's was my love's -young dream, the darling joys of sweet buttonhooking, to lace up -crisscrossed to kneelength the dressy kid footwear satinlined, so -incredibly impossibly small, of Clyde Road ladies. Even their wax model -Raymonde I visited daily to admire her cobweb hose and stick of rhubarb -toe, as worn in Paris. -THE HOOF Smell my hot goathide. Feel my royal weight. -BLOOM CROSSLACING Too tight? -THE HOOF If you bungle, Handy Andy, I'll kick your football for you. -BLOOM Not to lace the wrong eyelet as I did the night of the bazaar -dance. Bad luck. Hook in wrong tache of her ... person you mentioned. -That night she met ... Now -HE KNOTS THE LACE. BELLA PLACES HER FOOT ON THE FLOOR. BLOOM RAISES HIS -HEAD. HER HEAVY FACE, HER EYES STRIKE HIM IN MIDBROW. HIS EYES GROW DULL, -DARKER AND POUCHED, HIS NOSE THICKENS. -BLOOM MUMBLES Awaiting your further orders we remain, gentlemen, ... -BELLO WITH A HARD BASILISK STARE, IN A BARITONE VOICE Hound of -dishonour -BLOOM INFATUATED Empress -BELLO HIS HEAVY CHEEKCHOPS SAGGING Adorer of the adulterous rump -BLOOM PLAINTIVELY Hugeness -BELLO Dungdevourer -BLOOM WITH SINEWS SEMIFLEXED Magmagnificence -BELLO Down HE TAPS HER ON THE SHOULDER WITH HIS FAN Incline feet -forward Slide left foot one pace back You will fall. You are falling. -On the hands down -BLOOM HER EYES UPTURNED IN THE SIGN OF ADMIRATION, CLOSING, YAPS -Truffles -WITH A PIERCING EPILEPTIC CRY SHE SINKS ON ALL FOURS, GRUNTING, -SNUFFLING, ROOTING AT HIS FEET THEN LIES, SHAMMING DEAD, WITH EYES SHUT -TIGHT, TREMBLING EYELIDS, BOWED UPON THE GROUND IN THE ATTITUDE OF MOST -EXCELLENT MASTER. -BELLO WITH BOBBED HAIR, PURPLE GILLS, FIT MOUSTACHE RINGS ROUND HIS -SHAVEN MOUTH, IN MOUNTAINEER'S PUTTEES, GREEN SILVERBUTTONED COAT, SPORT -SKIRT AND ALPINE HAT WITH MOORCOCK'S FEATHER, HIS HANDS STUCK DEEP IN HIS -BREECHES POCKETS, PLACES HIS HEEL ON HER NECK AND GRINDS IT IN -Footstool Feel my entire weight. Bow, bondslave, before the throne of -your despot's glorious heels so glistening in their proud erectness. -BLOOM ENTHRALLED, BLEATS I promise never to disobey. -BELLO LAUGHS LOUDLY Holy smoke You little know what's in store for -you. I'm the Tartar to settle your little lot and break you in I'll bet -Kentucky cocktails all round I shame it out of you, old son. Cheek me, I -dare you. If you do tremble in anticipation of heel discipline to be -inflicted in gym costume. -BLOOM CREEPS UNDER THE SOFA AND PEERS OUT THROUGH THE FRINGE. -ZOE WIDENING HER SLIP TO SCREEN HER She's not here. -BLOOM CLOSING HER EYES She's not here. -FLORRY HIDING HER WITH HER GOWN She didn't mean it, Mr Bello. She'll -be good, sir. -KITTY Don't be too hard on her, Mr Bello. Sure you won't, ma'amsir. -BELLO COAXINGLY Come, ducky dear, I want a word with you, darling, -just to administer correction. Just a little heart to heart talk, sweety. -BLOOM PUTS OUT HER TIMID HEAD There's a good girly now. BELLO GRABS -HER HAIR VIOLENTLY AND DRAGS HER FORWARD I only want to correct you for -your own good on a soft safe spot. How's that tender behind? O, ever so -gently, pet. Begin to get ready. -BLOOM FAINTING Don't tear my ... -BELLO SAVAGELY The nosering, the pliers, the bastinado, the hanging -hook, the knout I'll make you kiss while the flutes play like the Nubian -slave of old. You're in for it this time I'll make you remember me for -the balance of your natural life. HIS FOREHEAD VEINS SWOLLEN, HIS FACE -CONGESTED I shall sit on your ottoman saddleback every morning after my -thumping good breakfast of Matterson's fat hamrashers and a bottle of -Guinness's porter. HE BELCHES And suck my thumping good Stock Exchange -cigar while I read the LICENSED VICTUALLER'S GAZETTE. Very possibly I -shall have you slaughtered and skewered in my stables and enjoy a slice -of you with crisp crackling from the baking tin basted and baked like -sucking pig with rice and lemon or currant sauce. It will hurt you. HE -TWISTS HER ARM. BLOOM SQUEALS, TURNING TURTLE. -BLOOM Don't be cruel, nurse Don't -BELLO TWISTING Another -BLOOM SCREAMS O, it's hell itself Every nerve in my body aches like -mad -BELLO SHOUTS Good, by the rumping jumping general That's the best bit -of news I heard these six weeks. Here, don't keep me waiting, damn you -HE SLAPS HER FACE -BLOOM WHIMPERS You're after hitting me. I'll tell ... -BELLO Hold him down, girls, till I squat on him. -ZOE Yes. Walk on him I will. -FLORRY I will. Don't be greedy. -KITTY No, me. Lend him to me. -THE BROTHEL COOK, MRS KEOGH, WRINKLED, GREYBEARDED, IN A GREASY BIB, -MEN'S GREY AND GREEN SOCKS AND BROGUES, FLOURSMEARED, A ROLLINGPIN STUCK -WITH RAW PASTRY IN HER BARE RED ARM AND HAND, APPEARS AT THE DOOR. -MRS KEOGH FEROCIOUSLY Can I help? THEY HOLD AND PINION BLOOM. -BELLO SQUATS WITH A GRUNT ON BLOOM'S UPTURNED FACE, PUFFING CIGARSMOKE, -NURSING A FAT LEG I see Keating Clay is elected vicechairman of the -Richmond asylum and by the by Guinness's preference shares are at sixteen -three quaffers. Curse me for a fool that didn't buy that lot Craig and -Gardner told me about. Just my infernal luck, curse it. And that -Goddamned outsider THROWAWAY at twenty to one. HE QUENCHES HIS CIGAR -ANGRILY ON BLOOM'S EAR Where's that Goddamned cursed ashtray? -BLOOM GOADED, BUTTOCKSMOTHERED O O Monsters Cruel one -BELLO Ask for that every ten minutes. Beg. Pray for it as you never -prayed before. HE THRUSTS OUT A FIGGED FIST AND FOUL CIGAR Here, kiss -that. Both. Kiss. HE THROWS A LEG ASTRIDE AND, PRESSING WITH HORSEMAN'S -KNEES, CALLS IN A HARD VOICE Gee up A cockhorse to Banbury cross. I'll -ride him for the Eclipse stakes. HE BENDS SIDEWAYS AND SQUEEZES HIS -MOUNT'S TESTICLES ROUGHLY, SHOUTING Ho Off we pop I'll nurse you in -proper fashion. HE HORSERIDES COCKHORSE, LEAPING IN THE SADDLE The lady -goes a pace a pace and the coachman goes a trot a trot and the gentleman -goes a gallop a gallop a gallop a gallop. -FLORRY PULLS AT BELLO Let me on him now. You had enough. I asked -before you. -ZOE PULLING AT FLORRY Me. Me. Are you not finished with him yet, -suckeress? -BLOOM STIFLING Can't. -BELLO Well, I'm not. Wait. HE HOLDS IN HIS BREATH Curse it. Here. This -bung's about burst. HE UNCORKS HIMSELF BEHIND THEN, CONTORTING HIS -FEATURES, FARTS LOUDLY Take that HE RECORKS HIMSELF Yes, by Jingo, -sixteen three quarters. -BLOOM A SWEAT BREAKING OUT OVER HIM Not man. HE SNIFFS Woman. -BELLO STANDS UP No more blow hot and cold. What you longed for has -come to pass. Henceforth you are unmanned and mine in earnest, a thing -under the yoke. Now for your punishment frock. You will shed your male -garments, you understand, Ruby Cohen? and don the shot silk luxuriously -rustling over head and shoulders. And quickly too -BLOOM SHRINKS Silk, mistress said O crinkly scrapy Must I tiptouch -it with my nails? -BELLO POINTS TO HIS WHORES As they are now so will you be, wigged, -singed, perfumesprayed, ricepowdered, with smoothshaven armpits. Tape -measurements will be taken next your skin. You will be laced with cruel -force into vicelike corsets of soft dove coutille with whalebone busk to -the diamondtrimmed pelvis, the absolute outside edge, while your figure, -plumper than when at large, will be restrained in nettight frocks, pretty -two ounce petticoats and fringes and things stamped, of course, with my -houseflag, creations of lovely lingerie for Alice and nice scent for -Alice. Alice will feel the pullpull. Martha and Mary will be a little -chilly at first in such delicate thighcasing but the frilly flimsiness of -lace round your bare knees will remind you ... -BLOOM A CHARMING SOUBRETTE WITH DAUBY CHEEKS, MUSTARD HAIR AND LARGE -MALE HANDS AND NOSE, LEERING MOUTH I tried her things on only twice, a -small prank, in Holles street. When we were hard up I washed them to save -the laundry bill. My own shirts I turned. It was the purest thrift. -BELLO JEERS Little jobs that make mother pleased, eh? And showed off -coquettishly in your domino at the mirror behind closedrawn blinds your -unskirted thighs and hegoat's udders in various poses of surrender, eh? -Ho ho I have to laugh That secondhand black operatop shift and short -trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs -Miriam Dandrade sold you from the Shelbourne hotel, eh? -BLOOM Miriam. Black. Demimondaine. -BELLO GUFFAWS Christ Almighty it's too tickling, this You were a -nicelooking Miriam when you clipped off your backgate hairs and lay -swooning in the thing across the bed as Mrs Dandrade about to be violated -by lieutenant SmytheSmythe, Mr Philip Augustus Blockwell M. P., signor -Laci Daremo, the robust tenor, blueeyed Bert, the liftboy, Henri Fleury -of Gordon Bennett fame, Sheridan, the quadroon Croesus, the varsity -wetbob eight from old Trinity, Ponto, her splendid Newfoundland and Bobs, -dowager duchess of Manorhamilton. HE GUFFAWS AGAIN Christ, wouldn't it -make a Siamese cat laugh? -BLOOM HER HANDS AND FEATURES WORKING It was Gerald converted me to be -a true corsetlover when I was female impersonator in the High School play -VICE VERSA. It was dear Gerald. He got that kink, fascinated by sister's -stays. Now dearest Gerald uses pinky greasepaint and gilds his eyelids. -Cult of the beautiful. -BELLO WITH WICKED GLEE Beautiful Give us a breather When you took -your seat with womanish care, lifting your billowy flounces, on the -smoothworn throne. -BLOOM Science. To compare the various joys we each enjoy. EARNESTLY -And really it's better the position ... because often I used to wet ... -BELLO STERNLY No insubordination The sawdust is there in the corner -for you. I gave you strict instructions, didn't I? Do it standing, sir -I'll teach you to behave like a jinkleman If I catch a trace on your -swaddles. Aha By the ass of the Dorans you'll find I'm a martinet. The -sins of your past are rising against you. Many. Hundreds. -THE SINS OF THE PAST IN A MEDLEY OF VOICES He went through a form of -clandestine marriage with at least one woman in the shadow of the Black -church. Unspeakable messages he telephoned mentally to Miss Dunn at an -address in D'Olier street while he presented himself indecently to the -instrument in the callbox. By word and deed he frankly encouraged a -nocturnal strumpet to deposit fecal and other matter in an unsanitary -outhouse attached to empty premises. In five public conveniences he wrote -pencilled messages offering his nuptial partner to all strongmembered -males. And by the offensively smelling vitriol works did he not pass -night after night by loving courting couples to see if and what and how -much he could see? Did he not lie in bed, the gross boar, gloating over a -nauseous fragment of wellused toilet paper presented to him by a nasty -harlot, stimulated by gingerbread and a postal order? -BELLO WHISTLES LOUDLY Say What was the most revolting piece of -obscenity in all your career of crime? Go the whole hog. Puke it out Be -candid for once. -MUTE INHUMAN FACES THRONG FORWARD, LEERING, VANISHING, GIBBERING, -BOOLOOHOOM. POLDY KOCK, BOOTLACES A PENNY CASSIDY'S HAG, BLIND STRIPLING, -LARRY RHINOCEROS, THE GIRL, THE WOMAN, THE WHORE, THE OTHER, THE ... -BLOOM Don't ask me Our mutual faith. Pleasants street. I only thought -the half of the ... I swear on my sacred oath ... -BELLO PEREMPTORILY Answer. Repugnant wretch I insist on knowing. Tell -me something to amuse me, smut or a bloody good ghoststory or a line of -poetry, quick, quick, quick Where? How? What time? With how many? I give -you just three seconds. One Two Thr ... -BLOOM DOCILE, GURGLES I rererepugnosed in rerererepugnant -BELLO IMPERIOUSLY O, get out, you skunk Hold your tongue Speak when -you're spoken to. -BLOOM BOWS Master Mistress Mantamer -HE LIFTS HIS ARMS. HIS BANGLE BRACELETS FILL. -BELLO SATIRICALLY By day you will souse and bat our smelling -underclothes also when we ladies are unwell, and swab out our latrines -with dress pinned up and a dishclout tied to your tail. Won't that be -nice? HE PLACES A RUBY RING ON HER FINGER And there now With this ring -I thee own. Say, thank you, mistress. -BLOOM Thank you, mistress. -BELLO You will make the beds, get my tub ready, empty the pisspots in -the different rooms, including old Mrs Keogh's the cook's, a sandy one. -Ay, and rinse the seven of them well, mind, or lap it up like champagne. -Drink me piping hot. Hop You will dance attendance or I'll lecture you -on your misdeeds, Miss Ruby, and spank your bare bot right well, miss, -with the hairbrush. You'll be taught the error of your ways. At night -your wellcreamed braceletted hands will wear fortythreebutton gloves -newpowdered with talc and having delicately scented fingertips. For such -favours knights of old laid down their lives. HE CHUCKLES My boys will -be no end charmed to see you so ladylike, the colonel, above all, when -they come here the night before the wedding to fondle my new attraction -in gilded heels. First I'll have a go at you myself. A man I know on the -turf named Charles Alberta Marsh I was in bed with him just now and -another gentleman out of the Hanaper and Petty Bag office is on the -lookout for a maid of all work at a short knock. Swell the bust. Smile. -Droop shoulders. What offers? HE POINTS For that lot. Trained by owner -to fetch and carry, basket in mouth. HE BARES HIS ARM AND PLUNGES IT -ELBOWDEEP IN BLOOM'S VULVA There's fine depth for you What, boys? That -give you a hardon? HE SHOVES HIS ARM IN A BIDDER'S FACE Here wet the -deck and wipe it round -A BIDDER A florin. -DILLON'S LACQUEY RINGS HIS HANDBELL. -THE LACQUEY Barang -A VOICE One and eightpence too much. -CHARLES ALBERTA MARSH Must be virgin. Good breath. Clean. -BELLO GIVES A RAP WITH HIS GAVEL Two bar. Rockbottom figure and cheap -at the price. Fourteen hands high. Touch and examine his points. Handle -him. This downy skin, these soft muscles, this tender flesh. If I had -only my gold piercer here And quite easy to milk. Three newlaid gallons -a day. A pure stockgetter, due to lay within the hour. His sire's milk -record was a thousand gallons of whole milk in forty weeks. Whoa my -jewel Beg up Whoa HE BRANDS HIS INITIAL C ON BLOOM'S CROUP So -Warranted Cohen What advance on two bob, gentlemen? -A DARKVISAGED MAN IN DISGUISED ACCENT Hoondert punt sterlink. -VOICES SUBDUED For the Caliph. Haroun Al Raschid. -BELLO GAILY Right. Let them all come. The scanty, daringly short -skirt, riding up at the knee to show a peep of white pantalette, is a -potent weapon and transparent stockings, emeraldgartered, with the long -straight seam trailing up beyond the knee, appeal to the better instincts -of the BLASE man about town. Learn the smooth mincing walk on four inch -Louis Quinze heels, the Grecian bend with provoking croup, the thighs -fluescent, knees modestly kissing. Bring all your powers of fascination -to bear on them. Pander to their Gomorrahan vices. -BLOOM BENDS HIS BLUSHING FACE INTO HIS ARMPIT AND SIMPERS WITH -FOREFINGER IN MOUTH O, I know what you're hinting at now -BELLO What else are you good for, an impotent thing like you? HE STOOPS -AND, PEERING, POKES WITH HIS FAN RUDELY UNDER THE FAT SUET FOLDS OF -BLOOM'S HAUNCHES Up Up Manx cat What have we here? Where's your curly -teapot gone to or who docked it on you, cockyolly? Sing, birdy, sing. -It's as limp as a boy of six's doing his pooly behind a cart. Buy a -bucket or sell your pump. LOUDLY Can you do a man's job? -BLOOM Eccles street ... -BELLO SARCASTICALLY I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world but -there's a man of brawn in possession there. The tables are turned, my gay -young fellow He is something like a fullgrown outdoor man. Well for you, -you muff, if you had that weapon with knobs and lumps and warts all over -it. He shot his bolt, I can tell you Foot to foot, knee to knee, belly -to belly, bubs to breast He's no eunuch. A shock of red hair he has -sticking out of him behind like a furzebush Wait for nine months, my -lad Holy ginger, it's kicking and coughing up and down in her guts -already That makes you wild, don't it? Touches the spot? HE SPITS IN -CONTEMPT Spittoon -BLOOM I was indecently treated, I ... Inform the police. Hundred pounds. -Unmentionable. I ... -BELLO Would if you could, lame duck. A downpour we want not your -drizzle. -BLOOM To drive me mad Moll I forgot Forgive Moll ... We ... Still -BELLO RUTHLESSLY No, Leopold Bloom, all is changed by woman's will -since you slept horizontal in Sleepy Hollow your night of twenty years. -Return and see. -OLD SLEEPY HOLLOW CALLS OVER THE WOLD. -SLEEPY HOLLOW Rip van Wink Rip van Winkle -BLOOM IN TATTERED MOCASSINS WITH A RUSTY FOWLINGPIECE, TIPTOEING, -FINGERTIPPING, HIS HAGGARD BONY BEARDED FACE PEERING THROUGH THE DIAMOND -PANES, CRIES OUT I see her It's she The first night at Mat Dillon's -But that dress, the green And her hair is dyed gold and he ... -BELLO LAUGHS MOCKINGLY That's your daughter, you owl, with a Mullingar -student. -MILLY BLOOM, FAIRHAIRED, GREENVESTED, SLIMSANDALLED, HER BLUE SCARF IN -THE SEAWIND SIMPLY SWIRLING, BREAKS FROM THE ARMS OF HER LOVER AND CALLS, -HER YOUNG EYES WONDERWIDE. -MILLY My It's Papli But, O Papli, how old you've grown -BELLO Changed, eh? Our whatnot, our writingtable where we never wrote, -aunt Hegarty's armchair, our classic reprints of old masters. A man and -his menfriends are living there in clover. The CUCKOOS' REST Why not? -How many women had you, eh, following them up dark streets, flatfoot, -exciting them by your smothered grunts, what, you male prostitute? -Blameless dames with parcels of groceries. Turn about. Sauce for the -goose, my gander O. -BLOOM They ... I ... -BELLO CUTTINGLY Their heelmarks will stamp the Brusselette carpet you -bought at Wren's auction. In their horseplay with Moll the romp to find -the buck flea in her breeches they will deface the little statue you -carried home in the rain for art for art' sake. They will violate the -secrets of your bottom drawer. Pages will be torn from your handbook of -astronomy to make them pipespills. And they will spit in your ten -shilling brass fender from Hampton Leedom's. -BLOOM Ten and six. The act of low scoundrels. Let me go. I will return. -I will prove ... -A VOICE Swear -BLOOM CLENCHES HIS FISTS AND CRAWLS FORWARD, A BOWIEKNIFE BETWEEN HIS -TEETH. -BELLO As a paying guest or a kept man? Too late. You have made your -secondbest bed and others must lie in it. Your epitaph is written. You -are down and out and don't you forget it, old bean. -BLOOM Justice All Ireland versus one Has nobody ...? HE BITES HIS -THUMB -BELLO Die and be damned to you if you have any sense of decency or grace -about you. I can give you a rare old wine that'll send you skipping to -hell and back. Sign a will and leave us any coin you have If you have -none see you damn well get it, steal it, rob it We'll bury you in our -shrubbery jakes where you'll be dead and dirty with old Cuck Cohen, my -stepnephew I married, the bloody old gouty procurator and sodomite with a -crick in his neck, and my other ten or eleven husbands, whatever the -buggers' names were, suffocated in the one cesspool. HE EXPLODES IN A -LOUD PHLEGMY LAUGH We'll manure you, Mr Flower HE PIPES SCOFFINGLY -Byby, Poldy Byby, Papli -BLOOM CLASPS HIS HEAD My willpower Memory I have sinned I have suff -HE WEEPS TEARLESSLY -BELLO SNEERS Crybabby Crocodile tears -BLOOM, BROKEN, CLOSELY VEILED FOR THE SACRIFICE, SOBS, HIS FACE TO THE -EARTH. THE PASSING BELL IS HEARD. DARKSHAWLED FIGURES OF THE CIRCUMCISED, -IN SACKCLOTH AND ASHES, STAND BY THE WAILING WALL. M. SHULOMOWITZ, JOSEPH -GOLDWATER, MOSES HERZOG, HARRIS ROSENBERG, M. MOISEL, J. CITRON, MINNIE -WATCHMAN, P. MASTIANSKY, THE REVEREND LEOPOLD ABRAMOVITZ, CHAZEN. WITH -SWAYING ARMS THEY WAIL IN PNEUMA OVER THE RECREANT BLOOM. -THE CIRCUMCISED IN DARK GUTTURAL CHANT AS THEY CAST DEAD SEA FRUIT UPON -HIM, NO FLOWERS SHEMA ISRAEL ADONAI ELOHENU ADONAI ECHAD. -VOICES SIGHING So he's gone. Ah yes. Yes, indeed. Bloom? Never heard -of him. No? Queer kind of chap. There's the widow. That so? Ah, yes. -FROM THE SUTTEE PYRE THE FLAME OF GUM CAMPHIRE ASCENDS. THE PALL OF -INCENSE SMOKE SCREENS AND DISPERSES. OUT OF HER OAKFRAME A NYMPH WITH -HAIR UNBOUND, LIGHTLY CLAD IN TEABROWN ARTCOLOURS, DESCENDS FROM HER -GROTTO AND PASSING UNDER INTERLACING YEWS STANDS OVER BLOOM. -THE YEWS THEIR LEAVES WHISPERING Sister. Our sister. Ssh -THE NYMPH SOFTLY Mortal KINDLY Nay, dost not weepest -BLOOM CRAWLS JELLILY FORWARD UNDER THE BOUGHS, STREAKED BY SUNLIGHT, -WITH DIGNITY This position. I felt it was expected of me. Force of -habit. -THE NYMPH Mortal You found me in evil company, highkickers, coster -picnicmakers, pugilists, popular generals, immoral panto boys in -fleshtights and the nifty shimmy dancers, La Aurora and Karini, musical -act, the hit of the century. I was hidden in cheap pink paper that smelt -of rock oil. I was surrounded by the stale smut of clubmen, stories to -disturb callow youth, ads for transparencies, truedup dice and bustpads, -proprietary articles and why wear a truss with testimonial from ruptured -gentleman. Useful hints to the married. -BLOOM LIFTS A TURTLE HEAD TOWARDS HER LAP We have met before. On -another star. -THE NYMPH SADLY Rubber goods. Neverrip brand as supplied to the -aristocracy. Corsets for men. I cure fits or money refunded. Unsolicited -testimonials for Professor Waldmann's wonderful chest exuber. My bust -developed four inches in three weeks, reports Mrs Gus Rublin with photo. -BLOOM You mean PHOTO BITS? -THE NYMPH I do. You bore me away, framed me in oak and tinsel, set me -above your marriage couch. Unseen, one summer eve, you kissed me in four -places. And with loving pencil you shaded my eyes, my bosom and my shame. -BLOOM HUMBLY KISSES HER LONG HAIR Your classic curves, beautiful -immortal, I was glad to look on you, to praise you, a thing of beauty, -almost to pray. -THE NYMPH During dark nights I heard your praise. -BLOOM QUICKLY Yes, yes. You mean that I ... Sleep reveals the worst -side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. I know I fell out of bed or -rather was pushed. Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there -is that English invention, pamphlet of which I received some days ago, -incorrectly addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless, inoffensive vent. -HE SIGHS 'Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage. -THE NYMPH HER FINGERS IN HER EARS And words. They are not in my -dictionary. -BLOOM You understood them? -THE YEWS Ssh -THE NYMPH COVERS HER FACE WITH HER HANDS What have I not seen in that -chamber? What must my eyes look down on? -BLOOM APOLOGETICALLY I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up with -care. The quoits are loose. From Gibraltar by long sea long ago. -THE NYMPH BENDS HER HEAD Worse, worse -BLOOM REFLECTS PRECAUTIOUSLY That antiquated commode. It wasn't her -weight. She scaled just eleven stone nine. She put on nine pounds after -weaning. It was a crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd orangekeyed -utensil which has only one handle. -THE SOUND OF A WATERFALL IS HEARD IN BRIGHT CASCADE. -THE WATERFALL -Poulaphouca Poulaphouca -Poulaphouca Poulaphouca. -THE YEWS MINGLING THEIR BOUGHS Listen. Whisper. She is right, our -sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on languorous -summer days. -JOHN WYSE NOLAN IN THE BACKGROUND, IN IRISH NATIONAL FORESTER'S -UNIFORM, DOFFS HIS PLUMED HAT Prosper Give shade on languorous days, -trees of Ireland -THE YEWS MURMURING Who came to Poulaphouca with the High School -excursion? Who left his nutquesting classmates to seek our shade? -BLOOM SCARED High School of Poula? Mnemo? Not in full possession of -faculties. Concussion. Run over by tram. -THE ECHO Sham -BLOOM PIGEONBREASTED, BOTTLESHOULDERED, PADDED, IN NONDESCRIPT JUVENILE -GREY AND BLACK STRIPED SUIT, TOO SMALL FOR HIM, WHITE TENNIS SHOES, -BORDERED STOCKINGS WITH TURNOVER TOPS AND A RED SCHOOLCAP WITH BADGE I -was in my teens, a growing boy. A little then sufficed, a jolting car, -the mingling odours of the ladies' cloakroom and lavatory, the throng -penned tight on the old Royal stairs for they love crushes, instinct of -the herd, and the dark sexsmelling theatre unbridles vice, even a -pricelist of their hosiery. And then the heat. There were sunspots that -summer. End of school. And tipsycake. Halcyon days. -HALCYON DAYS, HIGH SCHOOL BOYS IN BLUE AND WHITE FOOTBALL JERSEYS AND -SHORTS, MASTER DONALD TURNBULL, MASTER ABRAHAM CHATTERTON, MASTER OWEN -GOLDBERG, MASTER JACK MEREDITH, MASTER PERCY APJOHN, STAND IN A CLEARING -OF THE TREES AND SHOUT TO MASTER LEOPOLD BLOOM. -THE HALCYON DAYS Mackerel Live us again. Hurray THEY CHEER -BLOOM HOBBLEDEHOY, WARMGLOVED, MAMMAMUFFLERED, STARRED WITH SPENT -SNOWBALLS, STRUGGLES TO RISE Again I feel sixteen What a lark Let's -ring all the bells in Montague street. HE CHEERS FEEBLY Hurray for the -High School -THE ECHO Fool -THE YEWS RUSTLING She is right, our sister. Whisper. WHISPERED KISSES -ARE HEARD IN ALL THE WOOD. FACES OF HAMADRYADS PEEP OUT FROM THE BOLES -AND AMONG THE LEAVES AND BREAK, BLOSSOMING INTO BLOOM. Who profaned our -silent shade? -THE NYMPH COYLY, THROUGH PARTING FINGERS There? In the open air? -THE YEWS SWEEPING DOWNWARD Sister, yes. And on our virgin sward. -THE WATERFALL -Poulaphouca Poulaphouca -Phoucaphouca Phoucaphouca. -THE NYMPH WITH WIDE FINGERS O, infamy -BLOOM I was precocious. Youth. The fauna. I sacrificed to the god of the -forest. The flowers that bloom in the spring. It was pairing time. -Capillary attraction is a natural phenomenon. Lotty Clarke, flaxenhaired, -I saw at her night toilette through illclosed curtains with poor papa's -operaglasses The wanton ate grass wildly. She rolled downhill at Rialto -bridge to tempt me with her flow of animal spirits. She climbed their -crooked tree and I ... A saint couldn't resist it. The demon possessed -me. Besides, who saw? -STAGGERING BOB, A WHITEPOLLED CALF, THRUSTS A RUMINATING HEAD WITH HUMID -NOSTRILS THROUGH THE FOLIAGE. -STAGGERING BOB LARGE TEARDROPS ROLLING FROM HIS PROMINENT EYES, -SNIVELS Me. Me see. -BLOOM Simply satisfying a need I ... WITH PATHOS No girl would when I -went girling. Too ugly. They wouldn't play ... -HIGH ON BEN HOWTH THROUGH RHODODENDRONS A NANNYGOAT PASSES, -PLUMPUDDERED, BUTTYTAILED, DROPPING CURRANTS. -THE NANNYGOAT BLEATS Megeggaggegg Nannannanny -BLOOM HATLESS, FLUSHED, COVERED WITH BURRS OF THISTLEDOWN AND -GORSESPINE Regularly engaged. Circumstances alter cases. HE GAZES -INTENTLY DOWNWARDS ON THE WATER Thirtytwo head over heels per second. -Press nightmare. Giddy Elijah. Fall from cliff. Sad end of government -printer's clerk. THROUGH SILVERSILENT SUMMER AIR THE DUMMY OF BLOOM, -ROLLED IN A MUMMY, ROLLS ROTEATINGLY FROM THE LION'S HEAD CLIFF INTO THE -PURPLE WAITING WATERS. -THE DUMMYMUMMY Bbbbblllllblblblblobschbg -FAR OUT IN THE BAY BETWEEN BAILEY AND KISH LIGHTS THE Erin's King SAILS, -SENDING A BROADENING PLUME OF COALSMOKE FROM HER FUNNEL TOWARDS THE -LAND. -COUNCILLOR NANNETII ALONE ON DECK, IN DARK ALPACA, YELLOWKITEFACED, HIS -HAND IN HIS WAISTCOAT OPENING, DECLAIMS When my country takes her place -among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph -be written. I have ... -BLOOM Done. Prff -THE NYMPH LOFTILY We immortals, as you saw today, have not such a -place and no hair there either. We are stonecold and pure. We eat -electric light. SHE ARCHES HER BODY IN LASCIVIOUS CRISPATION, PLACING -HER FOREFINGER IN HER MOUTH Spoke to me. Heard from behind. How then -could you ...? -BLOOM PAWING THE HEATHER ABJECTLY O, I have been a perfect pig. Enemas -too I have administered. One third of a pint of quassia to which add a -tablespoonful of rocksalt. Up the fundament. With Hamilton Long's -syringe, the ladies' friend. -THE NYMPH In my presence. The powderpuff. SHE BLUSHES AND MAKES A KNEE -And the rest -BLOOM DEJECTED Yes. PECCAVI I have paid homage on that living altar -where the back changes name. WITH SUDDEN FERVOUR For why should the -dainty scented jewelled hand, the hand that rules ...? -FIGURES WIND SERPENTING IN SLOW WOODLAND PATTERN AROUND THE TREESTEMS, -COOEEING -THE VOICE OF KITTY IN THE THICKET Show us one of them cushions. -THE VOICE OF FLORRY Here. -A GROUSE WINGS CLUMSILY THROUGH THE UNDERWOOD. -THE VOICE OF LYNCH IN THE THICKET Whew Piping hot -THE VOICE OF ZOE FROM THE THICKET Came from a hot place. -THE VOICE OF VIRAG A BIRDCHIEF, BLUESTREAKED AND FEATHERED IN WAR -PANOPLY WITH HIS ASSEGAI, STRIDING THROUGH A CRACKLING CANEBRAKE OVER -BEECHMAST AND ACORNS Hot Hot Ware Sitting Bull -BLOOM It overpowers me. The warm impress of her warm form. Even to sit -where a woman has sat, especially with divaricated thighs, as though to -grant the last favours, most especially with previously well uplifted -white sateen coatpans. So womanly, full. It fills me full. -THE WATERFALL -Phillaphulla Poulaphouca -Poulaphouca Poulaphouca. -THE YEWS Ssh Sister, speak -THE NYMPH EYELESS, IN NUN'S WHITE HABIT, COIF AND HUGEWINGED WIMPLE, -SOFTLY, WITH REMOTE EYES Tranquilla convent. Sister Agatha. Mount -Carmel. The apparitions of Knock and Lourdes. No more desire. SHE -RECLINES HER HEAD, SIGHING Only the ethereal. Where dreamy creamy gull -waves o'er the waters dull. -BLOOM HALF RISES. HIS BACK TROUSERBUTTON SNAPS. -THE BUTTON Bip -TWO SLUTS OF THE COOMBE DANCE RAINILY BY, SHAWLED, YELLING FLATLY. -THE SLUTS -O, Leopold lost the pin of his drawers -He didn't know what to do, -To keep it up, -To keep it up. -BLOOM COLDLY You have broken the spell. The last straw. If there were -only ethereal where would you all be, postulants and novices? Shy but -willing like an ass pissing. -THE YEWS THEIR SILVERFOIL OF LEAVES PRECIPITATING, THEIR SKINNY ARMS -AGING AND SWAYING Deciduously -THE NYMPH her features hardening, gropes in the folds of her habit -Sacrilege To attempt my virtue A LARGE MOIST STAIN APPEARS ON HER -ROBE Sully my innocence You are not fit to touch the garment of a pure -woman. SHE CLUTCHES AGAIN IN HER ROBE Wait. Satan, you'll sing no more -lovesongs. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. SHE DRAWS A PONIARD AND, CLAD IN THE -SHEATHMAIL OF AN ELECTED KNIGHT OF NINE, STRIKES AT HIS LOINS Nekum -BLOOM STARTS UP, SEIZES HER HAND Hoy Nebrakada Cat o' nine lives -Fair play, madam. No pruningknife. The fox and the grapes, is it? What do -you lack with your barbed wire? Crucifix not thick enough? HE CLUTCHES -HER VEIL A holy abbot you want or Brophy, the lame gardener, or the -spoutless statue of the watercarrier, or good mother Alphonsus, eh -Reynard? -THE NYMPH WITH A CRY FLEES FROM HIM UNVEILED, HER PLASTER CAST -CRACKING, A CLOUD OF STENCH ESCAPING FROM THE CRACKS Poli ... -BLOOM CALLS AFTER HER As if you didn't get it on the double -yourselves. No jerks and multiple mucosities all over you. I tried it. -Your strength our weakness. What's our studfee? What will you pay on the -nail? You fee mendancers on the Riviera, I read. THE FLEEING NYMPH -RAISES A KEEN Eh? I have sixteen years of black slave labour behind me. -And would a jury give me five shillings alimony tomorrow, eh? Fool -someone else, not me. HE SNIFFS Rut. Onions. Stale. Sulphur. Grease. -THE FIGURE OF BELLA COHEN STANDS BEFORE HIM. -BELLA You'll know me the next time. -BLOOM COMPOSED, REGARDS HER Passee. Mutton dressed as lamb. Long in -the tooth and superfluous hair. A raw onion the last thing at night would -benefit your complexion. And take some double chin drill. Your eyes are -as vapid as the glasseyes of your stuffed fox. They have the dimensions -of your other features, that's all. I'm not a triple screw propeller. -BELLA CONTEMPTUOUSLY You're not game, in fact. HER SOWCUNT BARKS -Fbhracht -BLOOM CONTEMPTUOUSLY Clean your nailless middle finger first, your -bully's cold spunk is dripping from your cockscomb. Take a handful of hay -and wipe yourself. -BELLA I know you, canvasser Dead cod -BLOOM I saw him, kipkeeper Pox and gleet vendor -BELLA TURNS TO THE PIANO Which of you was playing the dead march from -SAUL? -ZOE Me. Mind your cornflowers. SHE DARTS TO THE PIANO AND BANGS CHORDS -ON IT WITH CROSSED ARMS The cat's ramble through the slag. SHE GLANCES -BACK Eh? Who's making love to my sweeties? SHE DARTS BACK TO THE TABLE -What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own. -KITTY, DISCONCERTED, COATS HER TEETH WITH THE SILVER PAPER. BLOOM -APPROACHES ZOE. -BLOOM GENTLY Give me back that potato, will you? -ZOE Forfeits, a fine thing and a superfine thing. -BLOOM WITH FEELING It is nothing, but still, a relic of poor mamma. -ZOE -Give a thing and take it back -God'll ask you where is that -You'll say you don't know -God'll send you down below. -BLOOM There is a memory attached to it. I should like to have it. -STEPHEN To have or not to have that is the question. -ZOE Here. SHE HAULS UP A REEF OF HER SLIP, REVEALING HER BARE THIGH, -AND UNROLLS THE POTATO FROM THE TOP OF HER STOCKING Those that hides -knows where to find. -BELLA FROWNS Here. This isn't a musical peepshow. And don't you smash -that piano. Who's paying here? -SHE GOES TO THE PIANOLA. STEPHEN FUMBLES IN HIS POCKET AND, TAKING OUT A -BANKNOTE BY ITS CORNER, HANDS IT TO HER. -STEPHEN WITH EXAGGERATED POLITENESS This silken purse I made out of -the sow's ear of the public. Madam, excuse me. If you allow me. HE -INDICATES VAGUELY LYNCH AND BLOOM We are all in the same sweepstake, -Kinch and Lynch. DANS CE BORDEL OU TENONS NOSTRE ETAT. -LYNCH CALLS FROM THE HEARTH Dedalus Give her your blessing for me. -STEPHEN HANDS BELLA A COIN Gold. She has it. -BELLA LOOKS AT THE MONEY, THEN AT STEPHEN, THEN AT ZOE, FLORRY AND -KITTY Do you want three girls? It's ten shillings here. -STEPHEN DELIGHTEDLY A hundred thousand apologies. HE FUMBLES AGAIN -AND TAKES OUT AND HANDS HER TWO CROWNS Permit, BREVI MANU, my sight is -somewhat troubled. -BELLA GOES TO THE TABLE TO COUNT THE MONEY WHILE STEPHEN TALKS TO -HIMSELF IN MONOSYLLABLES. ZOE BENDS OVER THE TABLE. KITTY LEANS OVER -ZOE'S NECK. LYNCH GETS UP, RIGHTS HIS CAP AND, CLASPING KITTY'S WAIST, -ADDS HIS HEAD TO THE GROUP. -FLORRY STRIVES HEAVILY TO RISE Ow My foot's asleep. SHE LIMPS OVER -TO THE TABLE. BLOOM APPROACHES. -BELLA, ZOE, KITTY, LYNCH, BLOOM CHATTERING AND SQUABBLING The -gentleman ... ten shillings ... paying for the three ... allow me a -moment ... this gentleman pays separate ... who's touching it? ... ow -... mind who you're pinching ... are you staying the night or a short -time?... who did?... you're a liar, excuse me ... the gentleman paid down -like a gentleman ... drink ... it's long after eleven. -STEPHEN AT THE PIANOLA, MAKING A GESTURE OF ABHORRENCE No bottles -What, eleven? A riddle -ZOE LIFTING UP HER PETTIGOWN AND FOLDING A HALF SOVEREIGN INTO THE TOP -OF HER STOCKING Hard earned on the flat of my back. -LYNCH LIFTING KITTY FROM THE TABLE Come -KITTY Wait. SHE CLUTCHES THE TWO CROWNS -FLORRY And me? -LYNCH Hoopla HE LIFTS HER, CARRIES HER AND BUMPS HER DOWN ON THE -SOFA. -STEPHEN -The fox crew, the cocks flew, -The bells in heaven -Were striking eleven. -'Tis time for her poor soul -To get out of heaven. -BLOOM QUIETLY LAYS A HALF SOVEREIGN ON THE TABLE BETWEEN BELLA AND -FLORRY So. Allow me. HE TAKES UP THE POUNDNOTE Three times ten. We're -square. -BELLA ADMIRINGLY You're such a slyboots, old cocky. I could kiss you. -ZOE POINTS Him? Deep as a drawwell. LYNCH BENDS KITTY BACK OVER THE -SOFA AND KISSES HER. BLOOM GOES WITH THE POUNDNOTE TO STEPHEN. -BLOOM This is yours. -STEPHEN How is that? LES DISTRAIT or absentminded beggar. HE FUMBLES -AGAIN IN HIS POCKET AND DRAWS OUT A HANDFUL OF COINS. AN OBJECT FILLS. -That fell. -BLOOM STOOPING, PICKS UP AND HANDS A BOX OF MATCHES This. -STEPHEN Lucifer. Thanks. -BLOOM QUIETLY You had better hand over that cash to me to take care -of. Why pay more? -STEPHEN HANDS HIM ALL HIS COINS Be just before you are generous. -BLOOM I will but is it wise? HE COUNTS One, seven, eleven, and five. -Six. Eleven. I don't answer for what you may have lost. -STEPHEN Why striking eleven? Proparoxyton. Moment before the next -Lessing says. Thirsty fox. HE LAUGHS LOUDLY Burying his grandmother. -Probably he killed her. -BLOOM That is one pound six and eleven. One pound seven, say. -STEPHEN Doesn't matter a rambling damn. -BLOOM No, but ... -STEPHEN COMES TO THE TABLE Cigarette, please. LYNCH TOSSES A -CIGARETTE FROM THE SOFA TO THE TABLE And so Georgina Johnson is dead and -married. A CIGARETTE APPEARS ON THE TABLE. STEPHEN LOOKS AT IT Wonder. -Parlour magic. Married. Hm. HE STRIKES A MATCH AND PROCEEDS TO LIGHT THE -CIGARETTE WITH ENIGMATIC MELANCHOLY -LYNCH WATCHING HIM You would have a better chance of lighting it if -you held the match nearer. -STEPHEN BRINGS THE MATCH NEAR HIS EYE Lynx eye. Must get glasses. -Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. -HE DRAWS THE MATCH AWAY. IT GOES OUT. Brain thinks. Near far. -Ineluctable modality of the visible. HE FROWNS MYSTERIOUSLY Hm. Sphinx. -The beast that has twobacks at midnight. Married. -ZOE It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with -him. -FLORRY NODS Mr Lambe from London. -STEPHEN Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world. -LYNCH EMBRACING KITTY ON THE SOFA, CHANTS DEEPLY DONA NOBIS PACEM. -THE CIGARETTE SLIPS FROM STEPHEN 'S FINGERS. BLOOM PICKS IT UP AND -THROWS IT IN THE GRATE. -BLOOM Don't smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. TO ZOE You have -nothing? -ZOE Is he hungry? -STEPHEN EXTENDS HIS HAND TO HER SMILING AND CHANTS TO THE AIR OF THE -BLOODOATH IN THE Dusk of the Gods -Hangende Hunger, -Fragende Frau, -Macht uns alle kaputt. -ZOE TRAGICALLY Hamlet, I am thy father's gimlet SHE TAKES HIS HAND -Blue eyes beauty I'll read your hand. SHE POINTS TO HIS FOREHEAD No -wit, no wrinkles. SHE COUNTS Two, three, Mars, that's courage. STEPHEN -SHAKES HIS HEAD No kid. -LYNCH Sheet lightning courage. The youth who could not shiver and shake. -TO ZOE Who taught you palmistry? -ZOE TURNS Ask my ballocks that I haven't got. TO STEPHEN I see it in -your face. The eye, like that. SHE FROWNS WITH LOWERED HEAD -LYNCH LAUGHING, SLAPS KITTY BEHIND TWICE Like that. Pandybat. -TWICE LOUDLY A PANDYBAT CRACKS, THE COFFIN OF THE PIANOLA FLIES OPEN, -THE BALD LITTLE ROUND JACKINTHEBOX HEAD OF FATHER DOLAN SPRINGS UP. -FATHER DOLAN Any boy want flogging? Broke his glasses? Lazy idle little -schemer. See it in your eye. -MILD, BENIGN, RECTORIAL, REPROVING, THE HEAD OF DON JOHN CONMEE RISES -FROM THE PIANOLA COFFIN. -DON JOHN CONMEE Now, Father Dolan Now. I'm sure that Stephen is a very -good little boy -ZOE EXAMINING STEPHEN'S PALM Woman's hand. -STEPHEN MURMURS Continue. Lie. Hold me. Caress. I never could read His -handwriting except His criminal thumbprint on the haddock. -ZOE What day were you born? -STEPHEN Thursday. Today. -ZOE Thursday's child has far to go. SHE TRACES LINES ON HIS HAND Line -of fate. Influential friends. -FLORRY POINTING Imagination. -ZOE Mount of the moon. You'll meet with a ... SHE PEERS AT HIS HANDS -ABRUPTLY I won't tell you what's not good for you. Or do you want to -know? -BLOOM DETACHES HER FINGERS AND OFFERS HIS PALM More harm than good. -Here. Read mine. -BELLA Show. SHE TURNS UP BLOOM'S HAND I thought so. Knobby knuckles -for the women. -ZOE PEERING AT BLOOM'S PALM Gridiron. Travels beyond the sea and marry -money. -BLOOM Wrong. -ZOE QUICKLY O, I see. Short little finger. Henpecked husband. That -wrong? -BLACK LIZ, A HUGE ROOSTER HATCHING IN A CHALKED CIRCLE, RISES, STRETCHES -HER WINGS AND CLUCKS. -BLACK LIZ Gara. Klook. Klook. Klook. -SHE SIDLES FROM HER NEWLAID EGG AND WADDLES OFF -BLOOM POINTS TO HIS HAND That weal there is an accident. Fell and cut -it twentytwo years ago. I was sixteen. -ZOE I see, says the blind man. Tell us news. -STEPHEN See? Moves to one great goal. I am twentytwo. Sixteen years ago -he was twentytwo too. Sixteen years ago I twentytwo tumbled. Twentytwo -years ago he sixteen fell off his hobbyhorse. HE WINCES Hurt my hand -somewhere. Must see a dentist. Money? -ZOE WHISPERS TO FLORRY. THEY GIGGLE. BLOOM RELEASES HIS HAND AND WRITES -IDLY ON THE TABLE IN BACKHAND, PENCILLING SLOW CURVES. -FLORRY What? -A HACKNEYCAR, NUMBER THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTYFOUR, WITH A -GALLANTBUTTOCKED MARE, DRIVEN BY JAMES BARTON, HARMONY AVENUE, -DONNYBROOK, TROTS PAST. BLAZES BOYLAN AND LENEHAN SPRAWL SWAYING ON THE -SIDESEATS. THE ORMOND BOOTS CROUCHES BEHIND ON THE AXLE. SADLY OVER THE -CROSSBLIND LYDIA DOUCE AND MINA KENNEDY GAZE. -THE BOOTS JOGGING, MOCKS THEM WITH THUMB AND WRIGGLING WORMFINGERS Haw -haw have you the horn? -BRONZE BY GOLD THEY WHISPER. -ZOE TO FLORRY Whisper. -THEY WHISPER AGAIN -OVER THE WELL OF THE CAR BLAZES BOYLAN LEANS, HIS BOATER STRAW SET -SIDEWAYS, A RED FLOWER IN HIS MOUTH. LENEHAN IN YACHTSMAN'S CAP AND WHITE -SHOES OFFICIOUSLY DETACHES A LONG HAIR FROM BLAZES BOYLAN'S COAT -SHOULDER. -LENEHAN Ho What do I here behold? Were you brushing the cobwebs off a -few quims? -BOYLAN SEATED, SMILES Plucking a turkey. -LENEHAN A good night's work. -BOYLAN HOLDING UP FOUR THICK BLUNTUNGULATED FINGERS, WINKS Blazes -Kate Up to sample or your money back. HE HOLDS OUT A FOREFINGER Smell -that. -LENEHAN SMELLS GLEEFULLY Ah Lobster and mayonnaise. Ah -ZOE AND FLORRY LAUGH TOGETHER Ha ha ha ha. -BOYLAN JUMPS SURELY FROM THE CAR AND CALLS LOUDLY FOR ALL TO HEAR -Hello, Bloom Mrs Bloom dressed yet? -BLOOM IN FLUNKEY'S PRUNE PLUSH COAT AND KNEEBREECHES, BUFF STOCKINGS -AND POWDERED WIG I'm afraid not, sir. The last articles ... -BOYLAN TOSSES HIM SIXPENCE Here, to buy yourself a gin and splash. HE -HANGS HIS HAT SMARTLY ON A PEG OF BLOOM'S ANTLERED HEAD Show me in. I -have a little private business with your wife, you understand? -BLOOM Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Madam Tweedy is in her bath, sir. -MARION He ought to feel himself highly honoured. SHE PLOPS SPLASHING -OUT OF THE WATER Raoul darling, come and dry me. I'm in my pelt. Only my -new hat and a carriage sponge. -BOYLAN A MERRY TWINKLE IN HIS EYE Topping -BELLA What? What is it? -ZOE WHISPERS TO HER. -MARION Let him look, the pishogue Pimp And scourge himself I'll write -to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to raise -weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and -stamped receipt. -BOYLAN clasps himself Here, I can't hold this little lot much longer. -he strides off on stiff cavalry legs -BELLA LAUGHING Ho ho ho ho. -BOYLAN TO BLOOM, OVER HIS SHOULDER You can apply your eye to the -keyhole and play with yourself while I just go through her a few times. -BLOOM Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness -the deed and take a snapshot? HE HOLDS OUT AN OINTMENT JAR Vaseline, -sir? Orangeflower ...? Lukewarm water ...? -KITTY FROM THE SOFA Tell us, Florry. Tell us. What. -FLORRY WHISPERS TO HER. WHISPERING LOVEWORDS MURMUR, LIPLAPPING LOUDLY, -POPPYSMIC PLOPSLOP. -MINA KENNEDY HER EYES UPTURNED O, it must be like the scent of -geraniums and lovely peaches O, he simply idolises every bit of her -Stuck together Covered with kisses -LYDIA DOUCE HER MOUTH OPENING Yumyum. O, he's carrying her round the -room doing it Ride a cockhorse. You could hear them in Paris and New -York. Like mouthfuls of strawberries and cream. -KITTY LAUGHING Hee hee hee. -BOYLAN'S VOICE SWEETLY, HOARSELY, IN THE PIT OF HIS STOMACH Ah -Gooblazqruk brukarchkrasht -MARION'S VOICE HOARSELY, SWEETLY, RISING TO HER THROAT O -Weeshwashtkissinapooisthnapoohuck? -BLOOM HIS EYES WILDLY DILATED, CLASPS HIMSELF Show Hide Show Plough -her More Shoot -BELLA, ZOE, FLORRY, KITTY Ho ho Ha ha Hee hee -LYNCH POINTS The mirror up to nature. HE LAUGHS Hu hu hu hu hu -STEPHEN AND BLOOM GAZE IN THE MIRROR. THE FACE OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, -BEARDLESS, APPEARS THERE, RIGID IN FACIAL PARALYSIS, CROWNED BY THE -REFLECTION OF THE REINDEER ANTLERED HATRACK IN THE HALL. -SHAKESPEARE IN DIGNIFIED VENTRILOQUY 'Tis the loud laugh bespeaks the -vacant mind. TO BLOOM Thou thoughtest as how thou wastest invisible. -Gaze. HE CROWS WITH A BLACK CAPON'S LAUGH Iagogo How my Oldfellow -chokit his Thursdaymornun. Iagogogo -BLOOM SMILES YELLOWLY AT THE THREE WHORES When will I hear the joke? -ZOE Before you're twice married and once a widower. -BLOOM Lapses are condoned. Even the great Napoleon when measurements -were taken next the skin after his death ... -MRS DIGNAM, WIDOW WOMAN, HER SNUBNOSE AND CHEEKS FLUSHED WITH DEATHTALK, -TEARS AND TUNNEY'S TAWNY SHERRY, HURRIES BY IN HER WEEDS, HER BONNET -AWRY, ROUGING AND POWDERING HER CHEEKS, LIPS AND NOSE, A PEN CHIVVYING -HER BROOD OF CYGNETS. BENEATH HER SKIRT APPEAR HER LATE HUSBAND'S -EVERYDAY TROUSERS AND TURNEDUP BOOTS, LARGE EIGHTS. SHE HOLDS A SCOTTISH -WIDOWS' INSURANCE POLICY AND A LARGE MARQUEE UMBRELLA UNDER WHICH HER -BROOD RUN WITH HER, PATSY HOPPING ON ONE SHOD FOOT, HIS COLLAR LOOSE, A -HANK OF PORKSTEAKS DANGLING, FREDDY WHIMPERING, SUSY WITH A CRYING COD'S -MOUTH, ALICE STRUGGLING WITH THE BABY. SHE CUFFS THEM ON, HER STREAMERS -FLAUNTING ALOFT. -FREDDY Ah, ma, you're dragging me along -SUSY Mamma, the beeftea is fizzing over -SHAKESPEARE WITH PARALYTIC RAGE Weda seca whokilla farst. -THE FACE OF MARTIN CUNNINGHAM, BEARDED, REFEATURES SHAKESPEARE'S -BEARDLESS FACE. THE MARQUEE UMBRELLA SWAYS DRUNKENLY, THE CHILDREN RUN -ASIDE. UNDER THE UMBRELLA APPEARS MRS CUNNINGHAM IN MERRY WIDOW HAT AND -KIMONO GOWN. SHE GLIDES SIDLING AND BOWING, TWIRLING JAPANESILY. -MRS CUNNINGHAM SINGS -And they call me the jewel of Asia -MARTIN CUNNINGHAM GAZES ON HER, IMPASSIVE Immense Most bloody awful -demirep -STEPHEN ET EXALTABUNTUR CORNUA IUSTI. Queens lay with prize bulls. -Remember Pasiphae for whose lust my grandoldgrossfather made the first -confessionbox. Forget not Madam Grissel Steevens nor the suine scions of -the house of Lambert. And Noah was drunk with wine. And his ark was open. -BELLA None of that here. Come to the wrong shop. -LYNCH Let him alone. He's back from Paris. -ZOE RUNS TO STEPHEN AND LINKS HIM O go on Give us some parleyvoo. -STEPHEN CLAPS HAT ON HEAD AND LEAPS OVER TO THE FIREPLACE WHERE HE -STANDS WITH SHRUGGED SHOULDERS, FINNY HANDS OUTSPREAD, A PAINTED SMILE ON -HIS FACE. -LYNCH POMMELLING ON THE SOFA Rmm Rmm Rmm Rrrrrrmmmm. -STEPHEN GABBLES WITH MARIONETTE JERKS Thousand places of entertainment -to expense your evenings with lovely ladies saling gloves and other -things perhaps hers heart beerchops perfect fashionable house very -eccentric where lots cocottes beautiful dressed much about princesses -like are dancing cancan and walking there parisian clowneries extra -foolish for bachelors foreigns the same if talking a poor english how -much smart they are on things love and sensations voluptuous. Misters -very selects for is pleasure must to visit heaven and hell show with -mortuary candles and they tears silver which occur every night. Perfectly -shocking terrific of religion's things mockery seen in universal world. -All chic womans which arrive full of modesty then disrobe and squeal loud -to see vampire man debauch nun very fresh young with DESSOUS TROUBLANTS. -HE CLACKS HIS TONGUE LOUDLY HO, LA LA CE PIF QU'IL A -LYNCH VIVE LE VAMPIRE -THE WHORES Bravo Parleyvoo -STEPHEN GRIMACING WITH HEAD BACK, LAUGHS LOUDLY, CLAPPING HIMSELF -Great success of laughing. Angels much prostitutes like and holy apostles -big damn ruffians. DEMIMONDAINES nicely handsome sparkling of diamonds -very amiable costumed. Or do you are fond better what belongs they -moderns pleasure turpitude of old mans? HE POINTS ABOUT HIM WITH -GROTESQUE GESTURES WHICH LYNCH AND THE WHORES REPLY TO Caoutchouc statue -woman reversible or lifesize tompeeptom of virgins nudities very lesbic -the kiss five ten times. Enter, gentleman, to see in mirror every -positions trapezes all that machine there besides also if desire act -awfully bestial butcher's boy pollutes in warm veal liver or omlet on the -belly PIECE DE SHAKESPEARE. -BELLA CLAPPING HER BELLY SINKS BACK ON THE SOFA, WITH A SHOUT OF -LAUGHTER An omelette on the ... Ho ho ho ho ... omelette on the ... -STEPHEN MINCINGLY I love you, sir darling. Speak you englishman tongue -for DOUBLE ENTENTE CORDIALE. O yes, MON LOUP. How much cost? Waterloo. -Watercloset. HE CEASES SUDDENLY AND HOLDS UP A FOREFINGER -BELLA LAUGHING Omelette ... -THE WHORES LAUGHING Encore Encore -STEPHEN Mark me. I dreamt of a watermelon. -ZOE Go abroad and love a foreign lady. -LYNCH Across the world for a wife. -FLORRY Dreams goes by contraries. -STEPHEN EXTENDS HIS ARMS It was here. Street of harlots. In Serpentine -avenue Beelzebub showed me her, a fubsy widow. Where's the red carpet -spread? -BLOOM APPROACHING STEPHEN Look ... -STEPHEN No, I flew. My foes beneath me. And ever shall be. World without -end. HE CRIES PATER Free -BLOOM I say, look ... -STEPHEN Break my spirit, will he? O MERDE ALORS HE CRIES, HIS VULTURE -TALONS SHARPENED Hola Hillyho -SIMON DEDALUS' VOICE HILLOES IN ANSWER, SOMEWHAT SLEEPY BUT READY. -SIMON That's all right. HE SWOOPS UNCERTAINLY THROUGH THE AIR, -WHEELING, UTTERING CRIES OF HEARTENING, ON STRONG PONDEROUS BUZZARD -WINGS Ho, boy Are you going to win? Hoop Pschatt Stable with those -halfcastes. Wouldn't let them within the bawl of an ass. Head up Keep -our flag flying An eagle gules volant in a field argent displayed. -Ulster king at arms Haihoop HE MAKES THE BEAGLE'S CALL, GIVING TONGUE -Bulbul Burblblburblbl Hai, boy -THE FRONDS AND SPACES OF THE WALLPAPER FILE RAPIDLY ACROSS COUNTRY. A -STOUT FOX, DRAWN FROM COVERT, BRUSH POINTED, HAVING BURIED HIS -GRANDMOTHER, RUNS SWIFT FOR THE OPEN, BRIGHTEYED, SEEKING BADGER EARTH, -UNDER THE LEAVES. THE PACK OF STAGHOUNDS FOLLOWS, NOSE TO THE GROUND, -SNIFFING THEIR QUARRY, BEAGLEBAYING, BURBLBRBLING TO BE BLOODED. WARD -UNION HUNTSMEN AND HUNTSWOMEN LIVE WITH THEM, HOT FOR A KILL. FROM SIX -MILE POINT, FLATHOUSE, NINE MILE STONE FOLLOW THE FOOTPEOPLE WITH KNOTTY -STICKS, HAYFORKS, SALMONGAFFS, LASSOS, FLOCKMASTERS WITH STOCKWHIPS, -BEARBAITERS WITH TOMTOMS, TOREADORS WITH BULLSWORDS, GREYNEGROES WAVING -TORCHES. THE CROWD BAWLS OF DICERS, CROWN AND ANCHOR PLAYERS, -THIMBLERIGGERS, BROADSMEN. CROWS AND TOUTS, HOARSE BOOKIES IN HIGH WIZARD -HATS CLAMOUR DEAFENINGLY. -THE CROWD -Card of the races. Racing card -Ten to one the field -Tommy on the clay here Tommy on the clay -Ten to one bar one Ten to one bar one -Try your luck on Spinning Jenny -Ten to one bar one -Sell the monkey, boys Sell the monkey -I'll give ten to one -Ten to one bar one -A DARK HORSE, RIDERLESS, BOLTS LIKE A PHANTOM PAST THE WINNINGPOST, HIS -MANE MOONFOAMING, HIS EYEBALLS STARS. THE FIELD FOLLOWS, A BUNCH OF -BUCKING MOUNTS. SKELETON HORSES, SCEPTRE, MAXIMUM THE SECOND, ZINFANDEL, -THE DUKE OF WESTMINSTER'S SHOTOVER, REPULSE, THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT'S -CEYLON, PRIX DE PARIS. DWARFS RIDE THEM, RUSTYARMOURED, LEAPING, LEAPING -IN THEIR, IN THEIR SADDLES. LAST IN A DRIZZLE OF RAIN ON A BROKENWINDED -ISABELLE NAG, COCK OF THE NORTH, THE FAVOURITE, HONEY CAP, GREEN JACKET, -ORANGE SLEEVES, GARRETT DEASY UP, GRIPPING THE REINS, A HOCKEYSTICK AT -THE READY. HIS NAG ON SPAVINED WHITEGAITERED FEET JOGS ALONG THE ROCKY -ROAD. -THE ORANGE LODGES JEERING Get down and push, mister. Last lap You'll -be home the night -GARRETT DEASY BOLT UPRIGHT, HIS NAILSCRAPED FACE PLASTERED WITH -POSTAGESTAMPS, BRANDISHES HIS HOCKEYSTICK, HIS BLUE EYES FLASHING IN THE -PRISM OF THE CHANDELIER AS HIS MOUNT LOPES BY AT SCHOOLING GALLOP -PER VIAS RECTAS -A YOKE OF BUCKETS LEOPARDS ALL OVER HIM AND HIS REARING NAG A TORRENT OF -MUTTON BROTH WITH DANCING COINS OF CARROTS, BARLEY, ONIONS, TURNIPS, -POTATOES. -THE GREEN LODGES Soft day, sir John Soft day, your honour -PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY PASS BENEATH THE -WINDOWS, SINGING IN DISCORD. -STEPHEN Hark Our friend noise in the street. -ZOE HOLDS UP HER HAND Stop -PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY -Yet I've a sort a -Yorkshire relish for ... -ZOE That's me. SHE CLAPS HER HANDS Dance Dance SHE RUNS TO THE -PIANOLA Who has twopence? -BLOOM Who'll ...? -LYNCH HANDING HER COINS Here. -STEPHEN CRACKING HIS FINGERS IMPATIENTLY Quick Quick Where's my -augur's rod? HE RUNS TO THE PIANO AND TAKES HIS ASHPLANT, BEATING HIS -FOOT IN TRIPUDIUM -ZOE TURNS THE DRUMHANDLE There. -SHE DROPS TWO PENNIES IN THE SLOT. GOLD, PINK AND VIOLET LIGHTS START -FORTH. THE DRUM TURNS PURRING IN LOW HESITATION WALTZ. PROFESSOR GOODWIN, -IN A BOWKNOTTED PERIWIG, IN COURT DRESS, WEARING A STAINED INVERNESS -CAPE, BENT IN TWO FROM INCREDIBLE AGE, TOTTERS ACROSS THE ROOM, HIS HANDS -FLUTTERING. HE SITS TINILY ON THE PIANOSTOOL AND LIFTS AND BEATS HANDLESS -STICKS OF ARMS ON THE KEYBOARD, NODDING WITH DAMSEL'S GRACE, HIS BOWKNOT -BOBBING -ZOE TWIRLS ROUND HERSELF, HEELTAPPING Dance. Anybody here for there? -Who'll dance? Clear the table. -THE PIANOLA WITH CHANGING LIGHTS PLAYS IN WALTZ TIME THE PRELUDE OF My -Girl's a Yorkshire Girl. STEPHEN THROWS HIS ASHPLANT ON THE TABLE AND -SEIZES ZOE ROUND THE WAIST. FLORRY AND BELLA PUSH THE TABLE TOWARDS THE -FIREPLACE. STEPHEN, ARMING ZOE WITH EXAGGERATED GRACE, BEGINS TO WALTZ -HER ROUND THE ROOM. BLOOM STANDS ASIDE. HER SLEEVE FILLING FROM GRACING -ARMS REVEALS A WHITE FLESHFLOWER OF VACCINATION. BETWEEN THE CURTAINS -PROFESSOR MAGINNI INSERTS A LEG ON THE TOEPOINT OF WHICH SPINS A SILK -HAT. WITH A DEFT KICK HE SENDS IT SPINNING TO HIS CROWN AND JAUNTYHATTED -SKATES IN. HE WEARS A SLATE FROCKCOAT WITH CLARET SILK LAPELS, A GORGET -OF CREAM TULLE, A GREEN LOWCUT WAISTCOAT, STOCK COLLAR WITH WHITE -KERCHIEF, TIGHT LAVENDER TROUSERS, PATENT PUMPS AND CANARY GLOVES. IN HIS -BUTTONHOLE IS AN IMMENSE DAHLIA. HE TWIRLS IN REVERSED DIRECTIONS A -CLOUDED CANE, THEN WEDGES IT TIGHT IN HIS OXTER. HE PLACES A HAND LIGHTLY -ON HIS BREASTBONE, BOWS, AND FONDLES HIS FLOWER AND BUTTONS. -MAGINNI The poetry of motion, art of calisthenics. No connection with -Madam Legget Byrne's or Levenston's. Fancy dress balls arranged. -Deportment. The Katty Lanner step. So. Watch me My terpsichorean -abilities. HE MINUETS FORWARD THREE PACES ON TRIPPING BEE'S FEET TOUT -LE MONDE EN AVANT REVERENCE TOUT LE MONDE EN PLACE -THE PRELUDE CEASES. PROFESSOR GOODWIN, BEATING VAGUE ARMS SHRIVELS, -SINKS, HIS LIVE CAPE FILLING ABOUT THE STOOL. THE AIR IN FIRMER WALTZ -TIME SOUNDS. STEPHEN AND ZOE CIRCLE FREELY. THE LIGHTS CHANGE, GLOW, FIDE -GOLD ROSY VIOLET. -THE PIANOLA -Two young fellows were talking about their girls, girls, girls, -Sweethearts they'd left behind ... -FROM A CORNER THE MORNING HOURS RUN OUT, GOLDHAIRED, SLIMSANDALLED, IN -GIRLISH BLUE, WASPWAISTED, WITH INNOCENT HANDS. NIMBLY THEY DANCE, -TWIRLING THEIR SKIPPING ROPES. THE HOURS OF NOON FOLLOW IN AMBER GOLD. -LAUGHING, LINKED, HIGH HAIRCOMBS FLASHING, THEY CATCH THE SUN IN MOCKING -MIRRORS, LIFTING THEIR ARMS. -MAGINNI CLIPCLAPS GLOVESILENT HANDS CARRE AVANT DEUX Breathe evenly -BALANCE -THE MORNING AND NOON HOURS WALTZ IN THEIR PLACES, TURNING, ADVANCING TO -EACH OTHER, SHAPING THEIR CURVES, BOWING VISAVIS. CAVALIERS BEHIND THEM -ARCH AND SUSPEND THEIR ARMS, WITH HANDS DESCENDING TO, TOUCHING, RISING -FROM THEIR SHOULDERS. -HOURS You may touch my. -CAVALIERS May I touch your? -HOURS O, but lightly -CAVALIERS O, so lightly -THE PIANOLA -My little shy little lass has a waist. -ZOE AND STEPHEN TURN BOLDLY WITH LOOSER SWING. THE TWILIGHT HOURS -ADVANCE FROM LONG LANDSHADOWS, DISPERSED, LAGGING, LANGUIDEYED, THEIR -CHEEKS DELICATE WITH CIPRIA AND FALSE FAINT BLOOM. THEY ARE IN GREY GAUZE -WITH DARK BAT SLEEVES THAT FLUTTER IN THE LAND BREEZE. -MAGINNI AVANT HUIT TRAVERSE SALUT COURS DE MAINS CROISE -THE NIGHT HOURS, ONE BY ONE, STEAL TO THE LAST PLACE. MORNING, NOON AND -TWILIGHT HOURS RETREAT BEFORE THEM. THEY ARE MASKED, WITH DAGGERED HAIR -AND BRACELETS OF DULL BELLS. WEARY THEY CURCHYCURCHY UNDER VEILS. -THE BRACELETS Heigho Heigho -ZOE TWIRLING, HER HAND TO HER BROW O -MAGINNI LES TIROIRS CHAINE DE DAMES LA CORBEILLE DOS A DOS -ARABESQUING WEARILY THEY WEAVE A PATTERN ON THE FLOOR, WEAVING, -UNWEAVING, CURTSEYING, TWIRLING, SIMPLY SWIRLING. -ZOE I'm giddy -SHE FREES HERSELF, DROOPS ON A CHAIR. STEPHEN SEIZES FLORRY AND TURNS -WITH HER. -MAGINNI BOULANGERE LES RONDS LES PONTS CHEVAUX DE BOIS ESCARGOTS -TWINING, RECEDING, WITH INTERCHANGING HANDS THE NIGHT HOURS LINK EACH -EACH WITH ARCHING ARMS IN A MOSAIC OF MOVEMENTS. STEPHEN AND FLORRY TURN -CUMBROUSLY. -MAGINNI DANSEZ AVEC VOS DAMES CHANGEZ DE DAMES DONNEZ LE PETIT BOUQUET -A VOTRE DAME REMERCIEZ -THE PIANOLA -Best, best of all, -Baraabum -KITTY JUMPS UP O, they played that on the hobbyhorses at the Mirus -bazaar -SHE RUNS TO STEPHEN. HE LEAVES FLORRY BRUSQUELY AND SEIZES KITTY. A -SCREAMING BITTERN'S HARSH HIGH WHISTLE SHRIEKS. GROANGROUSEGURGLING -TOFT'S CUMBERSOME WHIRLIGIG TURNS SLOWLY THE ROOM RIGHT ROUNDABOUT THE -ROOM. -THE PIANOLA -My girl's a Yorkshire girl. -ZOE -Yorkshire through and through. -Come on all -SHE SEIZES FLORRY AND WALTZES HER. -STEPHEN PAS SEUL -HE WHEELS KITTY INTO LYNCH'S ARMS, SNATCHES UP HIS ASHPLANT FROM THE -TABLE AND TAKES THE FLOOR. ALL WHEEL WHIRL WALTZ TWIRL. BLOOMBELLA -KITTYLYNCH FLORRYZOE JUJUBY WOMEN. STEPHEN WITH HAT ASHPLANT FROGSPLITS -IN MIDDLE HIGHKICKS WITH SKYKICKING MOUTH SHUT HAND CLASP PART UNDER -THIGH. WITH CLANG TINKLE BOOMHAMMER TALLYHO HORNBLOWER BLUE GREEN YELLOW -FLASHES TOFT'S CUMBERSOME TURNS WITH HOBBYHORSE RIDERS FROM GILDED SNAKES -DANGLED, BOWELS FANDANGO LEAPING SPURN SOIL FOOT AND FALL AGAIN. -THE PIANOLA -Though she's a factory lass -And wears no fancy clothes. -CLOSECLUTCHED SWIFT SWIFTER WITH GLAREBLAREFLARE SCUDDING THEY -SCOOTLOOTSHOOT LUMBERING BY. BARAABUM -TUTTI Encore Bis Bravo Encore -SIMON Think of your mother's people -STEPHEN Dance of death. -BANG FRESH BARANG BANG OF LACQUEY'S BELL, HORSE, NAG, STEER, PIGLINGS, -CONMEE ON CHRISTASS, LAME CRUTCH AND LEG SAILOR IN COCKBOAT ARMFOLDED -ROPEPULLING HITCHING STAMP HORNPIPE THROUGH AND THROUGH. BARAABUM ON -NAGS HOGS BELLHORSES GADARENE SWINE CORNY IN COFFIN STEEL SHARK STONE -ONEHANDLED NELSON TWO TRICKIES FRAUENZIMMER PLUMSTAINED FROM PRAM FILLING -BAWLING GUM HE'S A CHAMPION. FUSEBLUE PEER FROM BARREL REV. EVENSONG LOVE -ON HACKNEY JAUNT BLAZES BLIND CODDOUBLED BICYCLERS DILLY WITH SNOWCAKE NO -FANCY CLOTHES. THEN IN LAST SWITCHBACK LUMBERING UP AND DOWN BUMP MASHTUB -SORT OF VICEROY AND REINE RELISH FOR TUBLUMBER BUMPSHIRE ROSE. BARAABUM -THE COUPLES FALL ASIDE. STEPHEN WHIRLS GIDDILY. ROOM WHIRLS BACK. EYES -CLOSED HE TOTTERS. RED RAILS FLY SPACEWARDS. STARS ALL AROUND SUNS TURN -ROUNDABOUT. BRIGHT MIDGES DANCE ON WALLS. HE STOPS DEAD. -STEPHEN Ho -STEPHEN'S MOTHER, EMACIATED, RISES STARK THROUGH THE FLOOR, IN LEPER -GREY WITH A WREATH OF FADED ORANGEBLOSSOMS AND A TORN BRIDAL VEIL, HER -FACE WORN AND NOSELESS, GREEN WITH GRAVEMOULD. HER HAIR IS SCANT AND -LANK. SHE FIXES HER BLUECIRCLED HOLLOW EYESOCKETS ON STEPHEN AND OPENS -HER TOOTHLESS MOUTH UTTERING A SILENT WORD. A CHOIR OF VIRGINS AND -CONFESSORS SING VOICELESSLY. -THE CHOIR -Liliata rutilantium te confessorum ... -Iubilantium te virginum ... -FROM THE TOP OF A TOWER BUCK MULLIGAN, IN PARTICOLOURED JESTER'S DRESS -OF PUCE AND YELLOW AND CLOWN'S CAP WITH CURLING BELL, STANDS GAPING AT -HER, A SMOKING BUTTERED SPLIT SCONE IN HIS HAND. -BUCK MULLIGAN She's beastly dead. The pity of it Mulligan meets the -afflicted mother. HE UPTURNS HIS EYES Mercurial Malachi -THE MOTHER WITH THE SUBTLE SMILE OF DEATH'S MADNESS I was once the -beautiful May Goulding. I am dead. -STEPHEN HORRORSTRUCK Lemur, who are you? No. What bogeyman's trick is -this? -BUCK MULLIGAN SHAKES HIS CURLING CAPBELL The mockery of it Kinch -dogsbody killed her bitchbody. She kicked the bucket. TEARS OF MOLTEN -BUTTER FALL FROM HIS EYES ON TO THE SCONE Our great sweet mother EPI -OINOPA PONTON. -THE MOTHER COMES NEARER, BREATHING UPON HIM SOFTLY HER BREATH OF WETTED -ASHES All must go through it, Stephen. More women than men in the world. -You too. Time will come. -STEPHEN CHOKING WITH FRIGHT, REMORSE AND HORROR They say I killed you, -mother. He offended your memory. Cancer did it, not I. Destiny. -THE MOTHER A GREEN RILL OF BILE TRICKLING FROM A SIDE OF HER MOUTH You -sang that song to me. LOVE'S BITTER MYSTERY. -STEPHEN EAGERLY Tell me the word, mother, if you know now. The word -known to all men. -THE MOTHER Who saved you the night you jumped into the train at Dalkey -with Paddy Lee? Who had pity for you when you were sad among the -strangers? Prayer is allpowerful. Prayer for the suffering souls in the -Ursuline manual and forty days' indulgence. Repent, Stephen. -STEPHEN The ghoul Hyena -THE MOTHER I pray for you in my other world. Get Dilly to make you that -boiled rice every night after your brainwork. Years and years I loved -you, O, my son, my firstborn, when you lay in my womb. -ZOE FANNING HERSELF WITH THE GRATE FAN I'm melting -FLORRY POINTS TO STEPHEN Look He's white. -BLOOM GOES TO THE WINDOW TO OPEN IT MORE Giddy. -THE MOTHER WITH SMOULDERING EYES Repent O, the fire of hell -STEPHEN PANTING His noncorrosive sublimate The corpsechewer Raw head -and bloody bones. -THE MOTHER HER FACE DRAWING NEAR AND NEARER, SENDING OUT AN ASHEN -BREATH Beware SHE RAISES HER BLACKENED WITHERED RIGHT ARM SLOWLY -TOWARDS STEPHEN'S BREAST WITH OUTSTRETCHED FINGER Beware God's hand A -GREEN CRAB WITH MALIGNANT RED EYES STICKS DEEP ITS GRINNING CLAWS IN -STEPHEN'S HEART. -STEPHEN STRANGLED WITH RAGE Shite HIS FEATURES GROW DRAWN GREY AND -OLD -BLOOM AT THE WINDOW What? -STEPHEN AH NON, PAR EXEMPLE The intellectual imagination With me all -or not at all. NON SERVIAM -FLORRY Give him some cold water. Wait. SHE RUSHES OUT -THE MOTHER WRINGS HER HANDS SLOWLY, MOANING DESPERATELY O Sacred Heart -of Jesus, have mercy on him Save him from hell, O Divine Sacred Heart -STEPHEN No No No Break my spirit, all of you, if you can I'll bring -you all to heel -THE MOTHER IN THE AGONY OF HER DEATHRATTLE Have mercy on Stephen, -Lord, for my sake Inexpressible was my anguish when expiring with love, -grief and agony on Mount Calvary. -STEPHEN NOTHUNG -HE LIFTS HIS ASHPLANT HIGH WITH BOTH HANDS AND SMASHES THE CHANDELIER. -TIME'S LIVID FINAL FLAME LEAPS AND, IN THE FOLLOWING DARKNESS, RUIN OF -ALL SPACE, SHATTERED GLASS AND TOPPLING MASONRY. -THE GASJET Pwfungg -BLOOM Stop -LYNCH RUSHES FORWARD AND SEIZES STEPHEN'S HAND Here Hold on Don't -run amok -BELLA Police -STEPHEN, ABANDONING HIS ASHPLANT, HIS HEAD AND ARMS THROWN BACK STARK, -BEATS THE GROUND AND FLIES FROM THE ROOM, PAST THE WHORES AT THE DOOR. -BELLA SCREAMS After him -THE TWO WHORES RUSH TO THE HALLDOOR. LYNCH AND KITTY AND ZOE STAMPEDE -FROM THE ROOM. THEY TALK EXCITEDLY. BLOOM FOLLOWS, RETURNS. -THE WHORES JAMMED IN THE DOORWAY, POINTING Down there. -ZOE POINTING There. There's something up. -BELLA Who pays for the lamp? SHE SEIZES BLOOM'S COATTAIL Here, you -were with him. The lamp's broken. -BLOOM RUSHES TO THE HALL, RUSHES BACK What lamp, woman? -A WHORE He tore his coat. -BELLA HER EYES HARD WITH ANGER AND CUPIDITY, POINTS Who's to pay for -that? Ten shillings. You're a witness. -BLOOM SNATCHES UP STEPHEN'S ASHPLANT Me? Ten shillings? Haven't you -lifted enough off him? Didn't he ...? -BELLA LOUDLY Here, none of your tall talk. This isn't a brothel. A ten -shilling house. -BLOOM HIS HEAD UNDER THE LAMP, PULLS THE CHAIN. PULING, THE GASJET -LIGHTS UP A CRUSHED MAUVE PURPLE SHADE. HE RAISES THE ASHPLANT. Only the -chimney's broken. Here is all he ... -BELLA SHRINKS BACK AND SCREAMS Jesus Don't -BLOOM WARDING OFF A BLOW To show you how he hit the paper. There's not -sixpenceworth of damage done. Ten shillings -FLORRY WITH A GLASS OF WATER, ENTERS Where is he? -BELLA Do you want me to call the police? -BLOOM O, I know. Bulldog on the premises. But he's a Trinity student. -Patrons of your establishment. Gentlemen that pay the rent. HE MAKES A -MASONIC SIGN Know what I mean? Nephew of the vicechancellor. You don't -want a scandal. -BELLA ANGRILY Trinity. Coming down here ragging after the boatraces -and paying nothing. Are you my commander here or? Where is he? I'll -charge him Disgrace him, I will SHE SHOUTS Zoe Zoe -BLOOM URGENTLY And if it were your own son in Oxford? WARNINGLY I -know. -BELLA ALMOST SPEECHLESS Who are. Incog -ZOE IN THE DOORWAY There's a row on. -BLOOM What? Where? HE THROWS A SHILLING ON THE TABLE AND STARTS That's -for the chimney. Where? I need mountain air. -HE HURRIES OUT THROUGH THE HALL. THE WHORES POINT. FLORRY FOLLOWS, -SPILLING WATER FROM HER TILTED TUMBLER. ON THE DOORSTEP ALL THE WHORES -CLUSTERED TALK VOLUBLY, POINTING TO THE RIGHT WHERE THE FOG HAS CLEARED -OFF. FROM THE LEFT ARRIVES A JINGLING HACKNEY CAR. IT SLOWS TO IN FRONT -OF THE HOUSE. BLOOM AT THE HALLDOOR PERCEIVES CORNY KELLEHER WHO IS ABOUT -TO DISMOUNT FROM THE CAR WITH TWO SILENT LECHERS. HE AVERTS HIS FACE. -BELLA FROM WITHIN THE HALL URGES ON HER WHORES. THEY BLOW ICKYLICKYSTICKY -YUMYUM KISSES. CORNY KELLEHER REPLIES WITH A GHASTLY LEWD SMILE. THE -SILENT LECHERS TURN TO PAY THE JARVEY. ZOE AND KITTY STILL POINT RIGHT. -BLOOM, PARTING THEM SWIFTLY, DRAWS HIS CALIPH'S HOOD AND PONCHO AND -HURRIES DOWN THE STEPS WITH SIDEWAYS FACE. INCOG HAROUN AL RASCHID HE -FLITS BEHIND THE SILENT LECHERS AND HASTENS ON BY THE RAILINGS WITH FLEET -STEP OF A PARD STREWING THE DRAG BEHIND HIM, TORN ENVELOPES DRENCHED IN -ANISEED. THE ASHPLANT MARKS HIS STRIDE. A PACK OF BLOODHOUNDS, LED BY -HORNBLOWER OF TRINITY BRANDISHING A DOGWHIP IN TALLYHO CAP AND AN OLD -PAIR OF GREY TROUSERS, FOLLOW FROM FIR, PICKING UP THE SCENT, NEARER, -BAYING, PANTING, AT FAULT, BREAKING AWAY, THROWING THEIR TONGUES, BITING -HIS HEELS, LEAPING AT HIS TAIL. HE WALKS, RUNS, ZIGZAGS, GALLOPS, LUGS -LAID BACK. HE IS PELTED WITH GRAVEL, CABBAGESTUMPS, BISCUITBOXES, EGGS, -POTATOES, DEAD CODFISH, WOMAN'S SLIPPERSLAPPERS. AFTER HIM FRESHFOUND THE -HUE AND CRY ZIGZAG GALLOPS IN HOT PURSUIT OF FOLLOW MY LEADER C, -C, NIGHT WATCH, JOHN HENRY MENTON, WISDOM HELY, V. B. DILLON, COUNCILLOR -NANNETTI, ALEXANDER KEYES, LARRY O'ROURKE, JOE CUFFE MRS O'DOWD, PISSER -BURKE, THE NAMELESS ONE, MRS RIORDAN, THE CITIZEN, GARRYOWEN, -WHODOYOUCALLHIM, STRANGEFACE, FELLOWTHATSOLIKE, SAWHIMBEFORE, -CHAPWITHAWEN, CHRIS CALLINAN, SIR CHARLES CAMERON, BENJAMIN DOLLARD, -LENEHAN, BARTELL D'ARCY, JOE HYNES, RED MURRAY, EDITOR BRAYDEN, T. M. -HEALY, MR JUSTICE FITZGIBBON, JOHN HOWARD PARNELL, THE REVEREND TINNED -SALMON, PROFESSOR JOLY, MRS BREEN, DENIS BREEN, THEODORE PUREFOY, MINA -PUREFOY, THE WESTLAND ROW POSTMISTRESS, C. P. M'COY, FRIEND OF LYONS, -HOPPY HOLOHAN, MANINTHESTREET, OTHERMANINTHESTREET, FOOTBALLBOOTS, -PUGNOSED DRIVER, RICH PROTESTANT LADY, DAVY BYRNE, MRS ELLEN M'GUINNESS, -MRS JOE GALLAHER, GEORGE LIDWELL, JIMMY HENRY ON CORNS, SUPERINTENDENT -LARACY, FATHER COWLEY, CROFTON OUT OF THE COLLECTORGENERAL'S, DAN -DAWSON, DENTAL SURGEON BLOOM WITH TWEEZERS, MRS BOB DORAN, MRS KENNEFICK, -MRS WYSE NOLAN, JOHN WYSE NOLAN, -HANDSOMEMARRIEDWOMANRUBBEDAGAINSTWIDEBEHINDINCLONSKEATRAM, THE BOOKSELLER -OF Sweets Of Sin, MISS DUBEDATANDSHEDIDBEDAD, MESDAMES GERALD AND -STANISLAUS MORAN OF ROEBUCK, THE MANAGING CLERK OF DRIMMIE'S, WETHERUP, -COLONEL HAYES, MASTIANSKY, CITRON, PENROSE, AARON FIGATNER, MOSES HERZOG, -MICHAEL E GERAGHTY, INSPECTOR TROY, MRS GALBRAITH, THE CONSTABLE OFF -ECCLES STREET CORNER, OLD DOCTOR BRADY WITH STETHOSCOPE, THE MYSTERY MAN -ON THE BEACH, A RETRIEVER, MRS MIRIAM DANDRADE AND ALL HER LOVERS. -THE HUE AND CRY HELTERSKELTERPELTERWELTER He's Bloom Stop Bloom -Stopabloom Stopperrobber Hi Hi Stophim on the corner -AT THE CORNER OF BEAVER STREET BENEATH THE SCAFFOLDING BLOOM PANTING -STOPS ON THE FRINGE OF THE NOISY QUARRELLING KNOT, A LOT NOT KNOWING A -JOT WHAT HI HI ROW AND WRANGLE ROUND THE WHOWHAT BRAWLALTOGETHER. -STEPHEN WITH ELABORATE GESTURES, BREATHING DEEPLY AND SLOWLY You are -my guests. Uninvited. By virtue of the fifth of George and seventh of -Edward. History to blame. Fabled by mothers of memory. -PRIVATE CARR TO CISSY CAFFREY Was he insulting you? -STEPHEN Addressed her in vocative feminine. Probably neuter. Ungenitive. -VOICES No, he didn't. I seen him. The girl there. He was in Mrs Cohen's. -What's up? Soldier and civilian. -CISSY CAFFREY I was in company with the soldiers and they left me to -doyou know, and the young man run up behind me. But I'm faithful to the -man that's treating me though I'm only a shilling whore. -STEPHEN CATCHES SIGHT OF LYNCH'S AND KITTY'S HEADS Hail, Sisyphus. HE -POINTS TO HIMSELF AND THE OTHERS Poetic. Uropoetic. -VOICES Shes faithfultheman. -CISSY CAFFREY Yes, to go with him. And me with a soldier friend. -PRIVATE COMPTON He doesn't half want a thick ear, the blighter. Biff him -one, Harry. -PRIVATE CARR TO CISSY Was he insulting you while me and him was having -a piss? -LORD TENNYSON GENTLEMAN POET IN UNION JACK BLAZER AND CRICKET FLANNELS, -BAREHEADED, FLOWINGBEARDED Theirs not to reason why. -PRIVATE COMPTON Biff him, Harry. -STEPHEN TO PRIVATE COMPTON I don't know your name but you are quite -right. Doctor Swift says one man in armour will beat ten men in their -shirts. Shirt is synechdoche. Part for the whole. -CISSY CAFFREY TO THE CROWD No, I was with the privates. -STEPHEN AMIABLY Why not? The bold soldier boy. In my opinion every -lady for example ... -PRIVATE CARR HIS CAP AWRY, ADVANCES TO STEPHEN Say, how would it be, -governor, if I was to bash in your jaw? -STEPHEN LOOKS UP TO THE SKY How? Very unpleasant. Noble art of -selfpretence. Personally, I detest action. HE WAVES HIS HAND Hand hurts -me slightly. ENFIN CE SONT VOS OIGNONS. TO CISSY CAFFREY Some trouble -is on here. What is it precisely? -DOLLY GRAY FROM HER BALCONY WAVES HER HANDKERCHIEF, GIVING THE SIGN OF -THE HEROINE OF JERICHO Rahab. Cook's son, goodbye. Safe home to Dolly. -Dream of the girl you left behind and she will dream of you. -THE SOLDIERS TURN THEIR SWIMMING EYES. -BLOOM ELBOWING THROUGH THE CROWD, PLUCKS STEPHEN'S SLEEVE VIGOROUSLY -Come now, professor, that carman is waiting. -STEPHEN TURNS Eh? HE DISENGAGES HIMSELF Why should I not speak to -him or to any human being who walks upright upon this oblate orange? HE -POINTS HIS FINGER I'm not afraid of what I can talk to if I see his eye. -Retaining the perpendicular. -HE STAGGERS A PACE BACK -BLOOM PROPPING HIM Retain your own. -STEPHEN LAUGHS EMPTILY My centre of gravity is displaced. I have -forgotten the trick. Let us sit down somewhere and discuss. Struggle for -life is the law of existence but but human philirenists, notably the tsar -and the king of England, have invented arbitration. HE TAPS HIS BROW -But in here it is I must kill the priest and the king. -BIDDY THE CLAP Did you hear what the professor said? He's a professor -out of the college. -CUNTY KATE I did. I heard that. -BIDDY THE CLAP He expresses himself with such marked refinement of -phraseology. -CUNTY KATE Indeed, yes. And at the same time with such apposite -trenchancy. -PRIVATE CARR PULLS HIMSELF FREE AND COMES FORWARD What's that you're -saying about my king? -EDWARD THE SEVENTH APPEARS IN AN ARCHWAY. HE WARS A WHITE JERSEY ON -WHICH AN IMAGE OF THE SACRED HEART IS STITCHED WITH THE INSIGNIA OF -GARTER AND THISTLE, GOLDEN FLEECE, ELEPHANT OF DENMARK, SKINNER'S AND -PROBYN'S HORSE, LINCOLN'S INN BENCHER AND ANCIENT AND HONOURABLE -ARTILLERY COMPANY OF MASSACHUSETTS. HE SUCKS A RED JUJUBE. HE IS ROBED AS -A GRAND ELECT PERFECT AND SUBLIME MASON WITH TROWEL AND APRON, MARKED -made in Germany. IN HIS LEFT HAND HE HOLDS A PLASTERER'S BUCKET ON WHICH -IS PRINTED Defense d'uriner. A ROAR OF WELCOME GREETS HIM. -EDWARD THE SEVENTH SLOWLY, SOLEMNLY BUT INDISTINCTLY Peace, perfect -peace. For identification, bucket in my hand. Cheerio, boys. HE TURNS TO -HIS SUBJECTS We have come here to witness a clean straight fight and we -heartily wish both men the best of good luck. Mahak makar a bak. -HE SHAKES HANDS WITH PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON, STEPHEN, BLOOM AND -LYNCH. GENERAL APPLAUSE. EDWARD THE SEVENTH LIFTS HIS BUCKET GRACIOUSLY -IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT. -PRIVATE CARR TO STEPHEN Say it again. -STEPHEN NERVOUS, FRIENDLY, PULLS HIMSELF UP I understand your point of -view though I have no king myself for the moment. This is the age of -patent medicines. A discussion is difficult down here. But this is the -point. You die for your country. Suppose. HE PLACES HIS ARM ON PRIVATE -CARR'S SLEEVE Not that I wish it for you. But I say Let my country die -for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn't want it to die. Damn -death. Long live life -EDWARD THE SEVENTH LEVITATES OVER HEAPS OF SLAIN, IN THE GARB AND WITH -THE HALO OF JOKING JESUS, A WHITE JUJUBE IN HIS PHOSPHORESCENT FACE -My methods are new and are causing surprise. -To make the blind see I throw dust in their eyes. -STEPHEN Kings and unicorns HE FILLS BACK A PACE Come somewhere and -we'll ... What was that girl saying? ... -PRIVATE COMPTON Eh, Harry, give him a kick in the knackers. Stick one -into Jerry. -BLOOM TO THE PRIVATES, SOFTLY He doesn't know what he's saying. Taken -a little more than is good for him. Absinthe. Greeneyed monster. I know -him. He's a gentleman, a poet. It's all right. -STEPHEN NODS, SMILING AND LAUGHING Gentleman, patriot, scholar and -judge of impostors. -PRIVATE CARR I don't give a bugger who he is. -PRIVATE COMPTON We don't give a bugger who he is. -STEPHEN I seem to annoy them. Green rag to a bull. -KEVIN EGAN OF PARIS IN BLACK SPANISH TASSELLED SHIRT AND PEEPO'DAY -BOY'S HAT SIGNS TO STEPHEN. -KEVIN EGAN H'lo BONJOUR The VIEILLE OGRESSE with the DENTS JAUNES. -PATRICE EGAN PEEPS FROM BEHIND, HIS RABBITFACE NIBBLING A QUINCE LEAF. -PATRICE SOCIALISTE -DON EMILE PATRIZIO FRANZ RUPERT POPE HENNESSY IN MEDIEVAL HAUBERK, TWO -WILD GEESE VOLANT ON HIS HELM, WITH NOBLE INDIGNATION POINTS A MAILED -HAND AGAINST THE PRIVATES Werf those eykes to footboden, big grand -porcos of johnyellows todos covered of gravy -BLOOM TO STEPHEN Come home. You'll get into trouble. -STEPHEN SWAYING I don't avoid it. He provokes my intelligence. -BIDDY THE CLAP One immediately observes that he is of patrician lineage. -THE VIRAGO Green above the red, says he. Wolfe Tone. -THE BAWD The red's as good as the green. And better. Up the soldiers Up -King Edward -A ROUGH LAUGHS Ay Hands up to De Wet. -THE CITIZEN WITH A HUGE EMERALD MUFFLER AND SHILLELAGH, CALLS -May the God above -Send down a dove -With teeth as sharp as razors -To slit the throats -Of the English dogs -That hanged our Irish leaders. -THE CROPPY BOY THE ROPENOOSE ROUND HIS NECK, GRIPES IN HIS ISSUING -BOWELS WITH BOTH HANDS -I bear no hate to a living thing, -But I love my country beyond the king. -RUMBOLD, DEMON BARBER ACCOMPANIED BY TWO BLACKMASKED ASSISTANTS, -ADVANCES WITH GLADSTONE BAG WHICH HE OPENS Ladies and gents, cleaver -purchased by Mrs Pearcy to slay Mogg. Knife with which Voisin dismembered -the wife of a compatriot and hid remains in a sheet in the cellar, the -unfortunate female's throat being cut from ear to ear. Phial containing -arsenic retrieved from body of Miss Barron which sent Seddon to the -gallows. -HE JERKS THE ROPE. THE ASSISTANTS LEAP AT THE VICTIM'S LEGS AND DRAG HIM -DOWNWARD, GRUNTING THE CROPPY BOY'S TONGUE PROTRUDES VIOLENTLY. -THE CROPPY BOY -Horhot ho hray hor hother's hest. -HE GIVES UP THE GHOST. A VIOLENT ERECTION OF THE HANGED SENDS GOUTS OF -SPERM SPOUTING THROUGH HIS DEATHCLOTHES ON TO THE COBBLESTONES. MRS -BELLINGHAM, MRS YELVERTON BARRY AND THE HONOURABLE MRS MERVYN TALBOYS -RUSH FORWARD WITH THEIR HANDKERCHIEFS TO SOP IT UP. -RUMBOLD I'm near it myself. HE UNDOES THE NOOSE Rope which hanged the -awful rebel. Ten shillings a time. As applied to Her Royal Highness. HE -PLUNGES HIS HEAD INTO THE GAPING BELLY OF THE HANGED AND DRAWS OUT HIS -HEAD AGAIN CLOTTED WITH COILED AND SMOKING ENTRAILS My painful duty has -now been done. God save the king -EDWARD THE SEVENTH DANCES SLOWLY, SOLEMNLY, RATTLING HIS BUCKET, AND -SINGS WITH SOFT CONTENTMENT -On coronation day, on coronation day, -O, won't we have a merry time, -Drinking whisky, beer and wine -PRIVATE CARR Here. What are you saying about my king? -STEPHEN THROWS UP HIS HANDS O, this is too monotonous Nothing. He -wants my money and my life, though want must be his master, for some -brutish empire of his. Money I haven't. HE SEARCHES HIS POCKETS VAGUELY -GAVE IT TO SOMEONE. -PRIVATE CARR Who wants your bleeding money? -STEPHEN TRIES TO MOVE OFF Will someone tell me where I am least likely -to meet these necessary evils? CA SE VOIT AUSSI A PARIS. Not that I ... -But, by Saint Patrick ... -THE WOMEN'S HEADS COALESCE. OLD GUMMY GRANNY IN SUGARLOAF HAT APPEARS -SEATED ON A TOADSTOOL, THE DEATHFLOWER OF THE POTATO BLIGHT ON HER -BREAST. -STEPHEN Aha I know you, gammer Hamlet, revenge The old sow that eats -her farrow -OLD GUMMY GRANNY ROCKING TO AND FRO Ireland's sweetheart, the king of -Spain's daughter, alanna. Strangers in my house, bad manners to them -SHE KEENS WITH BANSHEE WOE Ochone Ochone Silk of the kine SHE -WAILS You met with poor old Ireland and how does she stand? -STEPHEN How do I stand you? The hat trick Where's the third person of -the Blessed Trinity? Soggarth Aroon? The reverend Carrion Crow. -CISSY CAFFREY SHRILL Stop them from fighting -A ROUGH Our men retreated. -PRIVATE CARR TUGGING AT HIS BELT I'll wring the neck of any fucker -says a word against my fucking king. -BLOOM TERRIFIED He said nothing. Not a word. A pure misunderstanding. -THE CITIZEN ERIN GO BRAGH -MAJOR TWEEDY AND THE CITIZEN EXHIBIT TO EACH OTHER MEDALS, DECORATIONS, -TROPHIES OF WAR, WOUNDS. BOTH SALUTE WITH FIERCE HOSTILITY. -PRIVATE COMPTON Go it, Harry. Do him one in the eye. He's a proboer. -STEPHEN Did I? When? -BLOOM TO THE REDCOATS We fought for you in South Africa, Irish missile -troops. Isn't that history? Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Honoured by our -monarch. -THE NAVVY STAGGERING PAST O, yes O God, yes O, make the kwawr a -krowawr O Bo -CASQUED HALBERDIERS IN ARMOUR THRUST FORWARD A PENTICE OF GUTTED -SPEARPOINTS. MAJOR TWEEDY, MOUSTACHED LIKE TURKO THE TERRIBLE, IN -BEARSKIN CAP WITH HACKLEPLUME AND ACCOUTREMENTS, WITH EPAULETTES, GILT -CHEVRONS AND SABRETACHES, HIS BREAST BRIGHT WITH MEDALS, TOES THE LINE. -HE GIVES THE PILGRIM WARRIOR'S SIGN OF THE KNIGHTS TEMPLARS. -MAJOR TWEEDY GROWLS GRUFFLY Rorke's Drift Up, guards, and at them -Mahar shalal hashbaz. -PRIVATE CARR I'll do him in. -PRIVATE COMPTON WAVES THE CROWD BACK Fair play, here. Make a bleeding -butcher's shop of the bugger. -MASSED BANDS BLARE Garryowen AND God save the king. -CISSY CAFFREY They're going to fight. For me -CUNTY KATE The brave and the fair. -BIDDY THE CLAP Methinks yon sable knight will joust it with the best. -CUNTY KATE BLUSHING DEEPLY Nay, madam. The gules doublet and merry -saint George for me -STEPHEN -The harlot's cry from street to street -Shall weave Old Ireland's windingsheet. -PRIVATE CARR LOOSENING HIS BELT, SHOUTS I'll wring the neck of any -fucking bastard says a word against my bleeding fucking king. -BLOOM SHAKES CISSY CAFFREY'S SHOULDERS Speak, you Are you struck -dumb? You are the link between nations and generations. Speak, woman, -sacred lifegiver -CISSY CAFFREY ALARMED, SEIZES PRIVATE CARR'S SLEEVE Amn't I with you? -Amn't I your girl? Cissy's your girl. SHE CRIES Police -STEPHEN ECSTATICALLY, TO CISSY CAFFREY -White thy fambles, red thy gan -And thy quarrons dainty is. -VOICES Police -DISTANT VOICES Dublin's burning Dublin's burning On fire, on fire -BRIMSTONE FIRES SPRING UP. DENSE CLOUDS ROLL PAST. HEAVY GATLING GUNS -BOOM. PANDEMONIUM. TROOPS DEPLOY. GALLOP OF HOOFS. ARTILLERY. HOARSE -COMMANDS. BELLS CLANG. BACKERS SHOUT. DRUNKARDS BAWL. WHORES SCREECH. -FOGHORNS HOOT. CRIES OF VALOUR. SHRIEKS OF DYING. PIKES CLASH ON -CUIRASSES. THIEVES ROB THE SLAIN. BIRDS OF PREY, WINGING FROM THE SEA, -RISING FROM MARSHLANDS, SWOOPING FROM EYRIES, HOVER SCREAMING, GANNETS, -CORMORANTS, VULTURES, GOSHAWKS, CLIMBING WOODCOCKS, PEREGRINES, MERLINS, -BLACKGROUSE, SEA EAGLES, GULLS, ALBATROSSES, BARNACLE GEESE. THE MIDNIGHT -SUN IS DARKENED. THE EARTH TREMBLES. THE DEAD OF DUBLIN FROM PROSPECT AND -MOUNT JEROME IN WHITE SHEEPSKIN OVERCOATS AND BLACK GOATFELL CLOAKS ARISE -AND APPEAR TO MANY. A CHASM OPENS WITH A NOISELESS YAWN. TOM ROCHFORD, -WINNER, IN ATHLETE'S SINGLET AND BREECHES, ARRIVES AT THE HEAD OF THE -NATIONAL HURDLE HANDICAP AND LEAPS INTO THE VOID. HE IS FOLLOWED BY A -RACE OF RUNNERS AND LEAPERS. IN WILD ATTITUDES THEY SPRING FROM THE -BRINK. THEIR BODIES PLUNGE. FACTORY LASSES WITH FANCY CLOTHES TOSS REDHOT -YORKSHIRE BARAABOMBS. SOCIETY LADIES LIFT THEIR SKIRTS ABOVE THEIR HEADS -TO PROTECT THEMSELVES. LAUGHING WITCHES IN RED CUTTY SARKS RIDE THROUGH -THE AIR ON BROOMSTICKS. QUAKERLYSTER PLASTERS BLISTERS. IT RAINS DRAGONS' -TEETH. ARMED HEROES SPRING UP FROM FURROWS. THEY EXCHANGE IN AMITY THE -PASS OF KNIGHTS OF THE RED CROSS AND FIGHT DUELS WITH CAVALRY SABRES -WOLFE TONE AGAINST HENRY GRATTAN, SMITH O'BRIEN AGAINST DANIEL O'CONNELL, -MICHAEL DAVITT AGAINST ISAAC BUTT, JUSTIN M'CARTHY AGAINST PARNELL, -ARTHUR GRIFFITH AGAINST JOHN REDMOND, JOHN O'LEARY AGAINST LEAR O'JOHNNY, -LORD EDWARD FITZGERALD AGAINST LORD GERALD FITZEDWARD, THE O'DONOGHUE OF -THE GLENS AGAINST THE GLENS OF THE O'DONOGHUE. ON AN EMINENCE, THE CENTRE -OF THE EARTH, RISES THE FELDALTAR OF SAINT BARBARA. BLACK CANDLES RISE -FROM ITS GOSPEL AND EPISTLE HORNS. FROM THE HIGH BARBACANS OF THE TOWER -TWO SHAFTS OF LIGHT FALL ON THE SMOKEPALLED ALTARSTONE. ON THE ALTARSTONE -MRS MINA PUREFOY, GODDESS OF UNREASON, LIES, NAKED, FETTERED, A CHALICE -RESTING ON HER SWOLLEN BELLY. FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN IN A LACE PETTICOAT -AND REVERSED CHASUBLE, HIS TWO LEFT FEET BACK TO THE FRONT, CELEBRATES -CAMP MASS. THE REVEREND MR HUGH C HAINES LOVE M. A. IN A PLAIN CASSOCK -AND MORTARBOARD, HIS HEAD AND COLLAR BACK TO THE FRONT, HOLDS OVER THE -CELEBRANT'S HEAD AN OPEN UMBRELLA. -FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN INTROIBO AD ALTARE DIABOLI. -THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE To the devil which hath made glad my young -days. -FATHER MALACHI O'FLYNN TAKES FROM THE CHALICE AND ELEVATES A -BLOODDRIPPING HOST CORPUS MEUM. -THE REVEREND MR HAINES LOVE RAISES HIGH BEHIND THE CELEBRANT'S -PETTICOAT, REVEALING HIS GREY BARE HAIRY BUTTOCKS BETWEEN WHICH A CARROT -IS STUCK My body. -THE VOICE OF ALL THE DAMNED Htengier Tnetopinmo Dog Drol eht rof, -Aiulella -FROM ON HIGH THE VOICE OF ADONAI CALLS. -ADONAI Dooooooooooog -THE VOICE OF ALL THE BLESSED Alleluia, for the Lord God Omnipotent -reigneth -FROM ON HIGH THE VOICE OF ADONAI CALLS. -ADONAI Goooooooooood -IN STRIDENT DISCORD PEASANTS AND TOWNSMEN OF ORANGE AND GREEN FACTIONS -SING Kick the Pope AND Daily, daily sing to Mary. -PRIVATE CARR WITH FEROCIOUS ARTICULATION I'll do him in, so help me -fucking Christ I'll wring the bastard fucker's bleeding blasted fucking -windpipe -OLD GUMMY GRANNY THRUSTS A DAGGER TOWARDS STEPHEN'S HAND Remove him, -acushla. At . a.m. you will be in heaven and Ireland will be free. -SHE PRAYS O good God, take him -THE RETRIEVER, NOSING ON THE FRINGE OF THE CROWD, BARKS NOISILY. -BLOOM RUNS TO LYNCH Can't you get him away? -LYNCH He likes dialectic, the universal language. Kitty TO BLOOM Get -him away, you. He won't listen to me. -HE DRAGS KITTY AWAY. -STEPHEN POINTS EXIT JUDAS. ET LAQUEO SE SUSPENDIT. -BLOOM RUNS TO STEPHEN Come along with me now before worse happens. -Here's your stick. -STEPHEN Stick, no. Reason. This feast of pure reason. -CISSY CAFFREY PULLING PRIVATE CARR Come on, you're boosed. He insulted -me but I forgive him. SHOUTING IN HIS EAR I forgive him for insulting -me. -BLOOM OVER STEPHEN'S SHOULDER Yes, go. You see he's incapable. -PRIVATE CARR BREAKS LOOSE I'll insult him. -HE RUSHES TOWARDS STEPHEN, FIST OUTSTRETCHED, AND STRIKES HIM IN THE -FACE. STEPHEN TOTTERS, COLLAPSES, FALLS, STUNNED. HE LIES PRONE, HIS FACE -TO THE SKY, HIS HAT ROLLING TO THE WALL. BLOOM FOLLOWS AND PICKS IT UP. -MAJOR TWEEDY LOUDLY Carbine in bucket Cease fire Salute -THE RETRIEVER BARKING FURIOUSLY Ute ute ute ute ute ute ute ute. -THE CROWD Let him up Don't strike him when he's down Air Who? The -soldier hit him. He's a professor. Is he hurted? Don't manhandle him -He's fainted -A HAG What call had the redcoat to strike the gentleman and he under the -influence. Let them go and fight the Boers -THE BAWD Listen to who's talking Hasn't the soldier a right to go with -his girl? He gave him the coward's blow. -THEY GRAB AT EACH OTHER'S HAIR, CLAW AT EACH OTHER AND SPIT -THE RETRIEVER BARKING Wow wow wow. -BLOOM SHOVES THEM BACK, LOUDLY Get back, stand back -PRIVATE COMPTON TUGGING HIS COMRADE Here. Bugger off, Harry. Here's -the cops -TWO RAINCAPED WATCH, TALL, STAND IN THE GROUP. -FIRST WATCH What's wrong here? -PRIVATE COMPTON We were with this lady. And he insulted us. And -assaulted my chum. THE RETRIEVER BARKS Who owns the bleeding tyke? -CISSY CAFFREY WITH EXPECTATION Is he bleeding -A MAN RISING FROM HIS KNEES No. Gone off. He'll come to all right. -BLOOM GLANCES SHARPLY AT THE MAN Leave him to me. I can easily ... -SECOND WATCH Who are you? Do you know him? -PRIVATE CARR LURCHES TOWARDS THE WATCH He insulted my lady friend. -BLOOM ANGRILY You hit him without provocation. I'm a witness. -Constable, take his regimental number. -SECOND WATCH I don't want your instructions in the discharge of my duty. -PRIVATE COMPTON PULLING HIS COMRADE Here, bugger off Harry. Or -Bennett'll shove you in the lockup. -PRIVATE CARR STAGGERING AS HE IS PULLED AWAY God fuck old Bennett. -He's a whitearsed bugger. I don't give a shit for him. -FIRST WATCH TAKES OUT HIS NOTEBOOK What's his name? -BLOOM PEERING OVER THE CROWD I just see a car there. If you give me a -hand a second, sergeant ... -FIRST WATCH Name and address. -CORNY KELLEKER, WEEPERS ROUND HIS HAT, A DEATH WREATH IN HIS HAND, -APPEARS AMONG THE BYSTANDERS. -BLOOM QUICKLY O, the very man HE WHISPERS Simon Dedalus' son. A bit -sprung. Get those policemen to move those loafers back. -SECOND WATCH Night, Mr Kelleher. -CORNY KELLEHER TO THE WATCH, WITH DRAWLING EYE That's all right. I -know him. Won a bit on the races. Gold cup. Throwaway. HE LAUGHS Twenty -to one. Do you follow me? -FIRST WATCH TURNS TO THE CROWD Here, what are you all gaping at? Move -on out of that. -THE CROWD DISPERSES SLOWLY, MUTTERING, DOWN THE LANE. -CORNY KELLEHER Leave it to me, sergeant. That'll be all right. HE -LAUGHS, SHAKING HIS HEAD We were often as bad ourselves, ay or worse. -What? Eh, what? -FIRST WATCH LAUGHS I suppose so. -CORNY KELLEHER NUDGES THE SECOND WATCH Come and wipe your name off the -slate. HE LILTS, WAGGING HIS HEAD With my tooraloom tooraloom tooraloom -tooraloom. What, eh, do you follow me? -SECOND WATCH GENIALLY Ah, sure we were too. -CORNY KELLEHER WINKING Boys will be boys. I've a car round there. -SECOND WATCH All right, Mr Kelleher. Good night. -CORNY KELLEHER I'll see to that. -BLOOM SHAKES HANDS WITH BOTH OF THE WATCH IN TURN Thank you very much, -gentlemen. Thank you. HE MUMBLES CONFIDENTIALLY We don't want any -scandal, you understand. Father is a wellknown highly respected citizen. -Just a little wild oats, you understand. -FIRST WATCH O. I understand, sir. -SECOND WATCH That's all right, sir. -FIRST WATCH It was only in case of corporal injuries I'd have to report -it at the station. -BLOOM NODS RAPIDLY Naturally. Quite right. Only your bounden duty. -SECOND WATCH It's our duty. -CORNY KELLEHER Good night, men. -THE WATCH SALUTING TOGETHER Night, gentlemen. THEY MOVE OFF WITH SLOW -HEAVY TREAD -BLOOM BLOWS Providential you came on the scene. You have a car? ... -CORNY KELLEHER LAUGHS, POINTING HIS THUMB OVER HIS RIGHT SHOULDER TO -THE CAR BROUGHT UP AGAINST THE SCAFFOLDING Two commercials that were -standing fizz in Jammet's. Like princes, faith. One of them lost two quid -on the race. Drowning his grief. And were on for a go with the jolly -girls. So I landed them up on Behan's car and down to nighttown. -BLOOM I was just going home by Gardiner street when I happened to ... -CORNY KELLEHER LAUGHS Sure they wanted me to join in with the mots. -No, by God, says I. Not for old stagers like myself and yourself. HE -LAUGHS AGAIN AND LEERS WITH LACKLUSTRE EYE Thanks be to God we have it -in the house, what, eh, do you follow me? Hah, hah, hah -BLOOM TRIES TO LAUGH He, he, he Yes. Matter of fact I was just -visiting an old friend of mine there, Virag, you don't know him poor -fellow, he's laid up for the past week and we had a liquor together and -I was just making my way home ... -THE HORSE NEIGHS. -THE HORSE Hohohohohohoh Hohohohome -CORNY KELLEHER Sure it was Behan our jarvey there that told me after we -left the two commercials in Mrs Cohen's and I told him to pull up and got -off to see. HE LAUGHS Sober hearsedrivers a speciality. Will I give him -a lift home? Where does he hang out? Somewhere in Cabra, what? -BLOOM No, in Sandycove, I believe, from what he let drop. -STEPHEN, PRONE, BREATHES TO THE STARS. CORNY KELLEHER, ASQUINT, DRAWLS -AT THE HORSE. BLOOM, IN GLOOM, LOOMS DOWN. -CORNY KELLEHER SCRATCHES HIS NAPE Sandycove HE BENDS DOWN AND CALLS -TO STEPHEN Eh HE CALLS AGAIN Eh He's covered with shavings anyhow. -Take care they didn't lift anything off him. -BLOOM No, no, no. I have his money and his hat here and stick. -CORNY KELLEHER Ah, well, he'll get over it. No bones broken. Well, I'll -shove along. HE LAUGHS I've a rendezvous in the morning. Burying the -dead. Safe home -THE HORSE NEIGHS Hohohohohome. -BLOOM Good night. I'll just wait and take him along in a few ... -CORNY KELLEHER RETURNS TO THE OUTSIDE CAR AND MOUNTS IT. THE HORSE -HARNESS JINGLES. -CORNY KELLEHER FROM THE CAR, STANDING Night. -BLOOM Night. -THE JARVEY CHUCKS THE REINS AND RAISES HIS WHIP ENCOURAGINGLY. THE CAR -AND HORSE BACK SLOWLY, AWKWARDLY, AND TURN. CORNY KELLEHER ON THE -SIDESEAT SWAYS HIS HEAD TO AND FRO IN SIGN OF MIRTH AT BLOOM'S PLIGHT. -THE JARVEY JOINS IN THE MUTE PANTOMIMIC MERRIMENT NODDING FROM THE -FARTHER SEAT. BLOOM SHAKES HIS HEAD IN MUTE MIRTHFUL REPLY. WITH THUMB -AND PALM CORNY KELLEHER REASSURES THAT THE TWO BOBBIES WILL ALLOW THE -SLEEP TO CONTINUE FOR WHAT ELSE IS TO BE DONE. WITH A SLOW NOD BLOOM -CONVEYS HIS GRATITUDE AS THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT STEPHEN NEEDS. THE CAR -JINGLES TOORALOOM ROUND THE CORNER OF THE TOORALOOM LANE. CORNY KELLEHER -AGAIN REASSURALOOMS WITH HIS HAND. BLOOM WITH HIS HAND ASSURALOOMS CORNY -KELLEHER THAT HE IS REASSURALOOMTAY. THE TINKLING HOOFS AND JINGLING -HARNESS GROW FAINTER WITH THEIR TOORALOOLOO LOOLOO LAY. BLOOM, HOLDING IN -HIS HAND STEPHEN'S HAT, FESTOONED WITH SHAVINGS, AND ASHPLANT, STANDS -IRRESOLUTE. THEN HE BENDS TO HIM AND SHAKES HIM BY THE SHOULDER. -BLOOM Eh Ho THERE IS NO ANSWER HE BENDS AGAIN Mr Dedalus THERE IS -NO ANSWER The name if you call. Somnambulist. HE BENDS AGAIN AND -HESITATING, BRINGS HIS MOUTH NEAR THE FACE OF THE PROSTRATE FORM -Stephen THERE IS NO ANSWER. HE CALLS AGAIN. Stephen -STEPHEN GROANS Who? Black panther. Vampire. HE SIGHS AND STRETCHES -HIMSELF, THEN MURMURS THICKLY WITH PROLONGED VOWELS -Who ... drive... Fergus now -And pierce ... wood's woven shade? ... -HE TURNS ON HIS LEFT SIDE, SIGHING, DOUBLING HIMSELF TOGETHER. -BLOOM Poetry. Well educated. Pity. HE BENDS AGAIN AND UNDOES THE -BUTTONS OF STEPHEN'S WAISTCOAT To breathe. HE BRUSHES THE WOODSHAVINGS -FROM STEPHEN'S CLOTHES WITH LIGHT HAND AND FINGERS One pound seven. Not -hurt anyhow. HE LISTENS What? -STEPHEN MURMURS -... shadows ... the woods -... white breast... dim sea. -HE STRETCHES OUT HIS ARMS, SIGHS AGAIN AND CURLS HIS BODY. BLOOM, -HOLDING THE HAT AND ASHPLANT, STANDS ERECT. A DOG BARKS IN THE DISTANCE. -BLOOM TIGHTENS AND LOOSENS HIS GRIP ON THE ASHPLANT. HE LOOKS DOWN ON -STEPHEN'S FACE AND FORM. -BLOOM COMMUNES WITH THE NIGHT Face reminds me of his poor mother. In -the shady wood. The deep white breast. Ferguson, I think I caught. A -girl. Some girl. Best thing could happen him. HE MURMURS ... swear that -I will always hail, ever conceal, never reveal, any part or parts, art or -arts ... HE MURMURS ... in the rough sands of the sea ... a cabletow's -length from the shore ... where the tide ebbs ... and flows ... -SILENT, THOUGHTFUL, ALERT HE STANDS ON GUARD, HIS FINGERS AT HIS LIPS IN -THE ATTITUDE OF SECRET MASTER. AGAINST THE DARK WALL A FIGURE APPEARS -SLOWLY, A FAIRY BOY OF ELEVEN, A CHANGELING, KIDNAPPED, DRESSED IN AN -ETON SUIT WITH GLASS SHOES AND A LITTLE BRONZE HELMET, HOLDING A BOOK IN -HIS HAND. HE READS FROM RIGHT TO LEFT INAUDIBLY, SMILING, KISSING THE -PAGE. -BLOOM WONDERSTRUCK, CALLS INAUDIBLY Rudy -RUDY GAZES, UNSEEING, INTO BLOOM'S EYES AND GOES ON READING, KISSING, -SMILING. HE HAS A DELICATE MAUVE FACE. ON HIS SUIT HE HAS DIAMOND AND -RUBY BUTTONS. IN HIS FREE LEFT HAND HE HOLDS A SLIM IVORY CANE WITH A -VIOLET BOWKNOT. A WHITE LAMBKIN PEEPS OUT OF HIS WAISTCOAT POCKET. -III -Preparatory to anything else Mr Bloom brushed off the greater bulk of the -shavings and handed Stephen the hat and ashplant and bucked him up -generally in orthodox Samaritan fashion which he very badly needed. His -Stephen's mind was not exactly what you would call wandering but a bit -unsteady and on his expressed desire for some beverage to drink Mr Bloom -in view of the hour it was and there being no pump of Vartry water -available for their ablutions let alone drinking purposes hit upon an -expedient by suggesting, off the reel, the propriety of the cabman's -shelter, as it was called, hardly a stonesthrow away near Butt bridge -where they might hit upon some drinkables in the shape of a milk and soda -or a mineral. But how to get there was the rub. For the nonce he was -rather nonplussed but inasmuch as the duty plainly devolved upon him to -take some measures on the subject he pondered suitable ways and means -during which Stephen repeatedly yawned. So far as he could see he was -rather pale in the face so that it occurred to him as highly advisable to -get a conveyance of some description which would answer in their then -condition, both of them being e.d.ed, particularly Stephen, always -assuming that there was such a thing to be found. Accordingly after a few -such preliminaries as brushing, in spite of his having forgotten to take -up his rather soapsuddy handkerchief after it had done yeoman service in -the shaving line, they both walked together along Beaver street or, more -properly, lane as far as the farrier's and the distinctly fetid -atmosphere of the livery stables at the corner of Montgomery street where -they made tracks to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street -round by the corner of Dan Bergin's. But as he confidently anticipated -there was not a sign of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be seen except -a fourwheeler, probably engaged by some fellows inside on the spree, -outside the North Star hotel and there was no symptom of its budging a -quarter of an inch when Mr Bloom, who was anything but a professional -whistler, endeavoured to hail it by emitting a kind of a whistle, holding -his arms arched over his head, twice. -This was a quandary but, bringing common sense to bear on it, evidently -there was nothing for it but put a good face on the matter and foot it -which they accordingly did. So, bevelling around by Mullett's and the -Signal House which they shortly reached, they proceeded perforce in the -direction of Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom being handicapped -by the circumstance that one of the back buttons of his trousers had, to -vary the timehonoured adage, gone the way of all buttons though, entering -thoroughly into the spirit of the thing, he heroically made light of the -mischance. So as neither of them were particularly pressed for time, as -it happened, and the temperature refreshing since it cleared up after the -recent visitation of Jupiter Pluvius, they dandered along past by where -the empty vehicle was waiting without a fare or a jarvey. As it so -happened a Dublin United Tramways Company's sandstrewer happened to be -returning and the elder man recounted to his companion A PROPOS of the -incident his own truly miraculous escape of some little while back. They -passed the main entrance of the Great Northern railway station, the -starting point for Belfast, where of course all traffic was suspended at -that late hour and passing the backdoor of the morgue a not very -enticing locality, not to say gruesome to a degree, more especially at -night ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in due course turned into -Store street, famous for its C division police station. Between this -point and the high at present unlit warehouses of Beresford place Stephen -thought to think of Ibsen, associated with Baird's the stonecutter's in -his mind somehow in Talbot place, first turning on the right, while the -other who was acting as his FIDUS ACHATES inhaled with internal -satisfaction the smell of James Rourke's city bakery, situated quite -close to where they were, the very palatable odour indeed of our daily -bread, of all commodities of the public the primary and most -indispensable. Bread, the staff of life, earn your bread, O tell me where -is fancy bread, at Rourke's the baker's it is said. -EN ROUTE to his taciturn and, not to put too fine a point on it, not yet -perfectly sober companion Mr Bloom who at all events was in complete -possession of his faculties, never more so, in fact disgustingly sober, -spoke a word of caution re the dangers of nighttown, women of ill fame -and swell mobsmen, which, barely permissible once in a while though not -as a habitual practice, was of the nature of a regular deathtrap for -young fellows of his age particularly if they had acquired drinking -habits under the influence of liquor unless you knew a little jiujitsu -for every contingency as even a fellow on the broad of his back could -administer a nasty kick if you didn't look out. Highly providential was -the appearance on the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was blissfully -unconscious but for that man in the gap turning up at the eleventh hour -the finis might have been that he might have been a candidate for the -accident ward or, failing that, the bridewell and an appearance in the -court next day before Mr Tobias or, he being the solicitor rather, old -Wall, he meant to say, or Mahony which simply spelt ruin for a chap when -it got bruited about. The reason he mentioned the fact was that a lot of -those policemen, whom he cordially disliked, were admittedly unscrupulous -in the service of the Crown and, as Mr Bloom put it, recalling a case or -two in the A division in Clanbrassil street, prepared to swear a hole -through a ten gallon pot. Never on the spot when wanted but in quiet -parts of the city, Pembroke road for example, the guardians of the law -were well in evidence, the obvious reason being they were paid to protect -the upper classes. Another thing he commented on was equipping soldiers -with firearms or sidearms of any description liable to go off at any time -which was tantamount to inciting them against civilians should by any -chance they fall out over anything. You frittered away your time, he very -sensibly maintained, and health and also character besides which, the -squandermania of the thing, fast women of the DEMIMONDE ran away with a -lot of l.s.d. into the bargain and the greatest danger of all was who you -got drunk with though, touching the much vexed question of stimulants, he -relished a glass of choice old wine in season as both nourishing and -bloodmaking and possessing aperient virtues notably a good burgundy -which he was a staunch believer in still never beyond a certain point -where he invariably drew the line as it simply led to trouble all round -to say nothing of your being at the tender mercy of others practically. -Most of all he commented adversely on the desertion of Stephen by all his -pubhunting CONFRERES but one, a most glaring piece of ratting on the part -of his brother medicos under all the circs. -And that one was Judas, Stephen said, who up to then had said nothing -whatsoever of any kind. -Discussing these and kindred topics they made a beeline across the back -of the Customhouse and passed under the Loop Line bridge where a brazier -of coke burning in front of a sentrybox or something like one attracted -their rather lagging footsteps. Stephen of his own accord stopped for no -special reason to look at the heap of barren cobblestones and by the -light emanating from the brazier he could just make out the darker figure -of the corporation watchman inside the gloom of the sentrybox. He began -to remember that this had happened or had been mentioned as having -happened before but it cost him no small effort before he remembered that -he recognised in the sentry a quondam friend of his father's, Gumley. To -avoid a meeting he drew nearer to the pillars of the railway bridge. -Someone saluted you, Mr Bloom said. -A figure of middle height on the prowl evidently under the arches saluted -again, calling -NIGHT -Stephen of course started rather dizzily and stopped to return the -compliment. Mr Bloom actuated by motives of inherent delicacy inasmuch as -he always believed in minding his own business moved off but nevertheless -remained on the QUI VIVE with just a shade of anxiety though not funkyish -in the least. Though unusual in the Dublin area he knew that it was not -by any means unknown for desperadoes who had next to nothing to live on -to be abroad waylaying and generally terrorising peaceable pedestrians by -placing a pistol at their head in some secluded spot outside the city -proper, famished loiterers of the Thames embankment category they might -be hanging about there or simply marauders ready to decamp with whatever -boodle they could in one fell swoop at a moment's notice, your money or -your life, leaving you there to point a moral, gagged and garrotted. -Stephen, that is when the accosting figure came to close quarters, though -he was not in an over sober state himself recognised Corley's breath -redolent of rotten cornjuice. Lord John Corley some called him and his -genealogy came about in this wise. He was the eldest son of inspector -Corley of the G division, lately deceased, who had married a certain -Katherine Brophy, the daughter of a Louth farmer. His grandfather Patrick -Michael Corley of New Ross had married the widow of a publican there -whose maiden name had been Katherine also Talbot. Rumour had it though -not proved that she descended from the house of the lords Talbot de -Malahide in whose mansion, really an unquestionably fine residence of its -kind and well worth seeing, her mother or aunt or some relative, a woman, -as the tale went, of extreme beauty, had enjoyed the distinction of being -in service in the washkitchen. This therefore was the reason why the -still comparatively young though dissolute man who now addressed Stephen -was spoken of by some with facetious proclivities as Lord John Corley. -Taking Stephen on one side he had the customary doleful ditty to tell. -Not as much as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings. His friends had -all deserted him. Furthermore he had a row with Lenehan and called him to -Stephen a mean bloody swab with a sprinkling of a number of other -uncalledfor expressions. He was out of a job and implored of Stephen to -tell him where on God's earth he could get something, anything at all, to -do. No, it was the daughter of the mother in the washkitchen that was -fostersister to the heir of the house or else they were connected through -the mother in some way, both occurrences happening at the same time if -the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to finish. -Anyhow he was all in. -I wouldn't ask you only, pursued he, on my solemn oath and God knows -I'm on the rocks. -There'll be a job tomorrow or next day, Stephen told him, in a boys' -school at Dalkey for a gentleman usher. Mr Garrett Deasy. Try it. You may -mention my name. -Ah, God, Corley replied, sure I couldn't teach in a school, man. I was -never one of your bright ones, he added with a half laugh. I got stuck -twice in the junior at the christian brothers. -I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen informed him. -Corley at the first gooff was inclined to suspect it was something to do -with Stephen being fired out of his digs for bringing in a bloody tart -off the street. There was a dosshouse in Marlborough street, Mrs -Maloney's, but it was only a tanner touch and full of undesirables but -M'Conachie told him you got a decent enough do in the Brazen Head over in -Winetavern street which was distantly suggestive to the person addressed -of friar Bacon for a bob. He was starving too though he hadn't said a -word about it. -Though this sort of thing went on every other night or very near it still -Stephen's feelings got the better of him in a sense though he knew that -Corley's brandnew rigmarole on a par with the others was hardly deserving -of much credence. However HAUD IGNARUS MALORUM MISERIS SUCCURRERE DISCO -etcetera as the Latin poet remarks especially as luck would have it he -got paid his screw after every middle of the month on the sixteenth which -was the date of the month as a matter of fact though a good bit of the -wherewithal was demolished. But the cream of the joke was nothing would -get it out of Corley's head that he was living in affluence and hadn't a -thing to do but hand out the needful. Whereas. He put his hand in a -pocket anyhow not with the idea of finding any food there but thinking he -might lend him anything up to a bob or so in lieu so that he might -endeavour at all events and get sufficient to eat but the result was in -the negative for, to his chagrin, he found his cash missing. A few broken -biscuits were all the result of his investigation. He tried his hardest -to recollect for the moment whether he had lost as well he might have or -left because in that contingency it was not a pleasant lookout, very much -the reverse in fact. He was altogether too fagged out to institute a -thorough search though he tried to recollect. About biscuits he dimly -remembered. Who now exactly gave them he wondered or where was or did he -buy. However in another pocket he came across what he surmised in the -dark were pennies, erroneously however, as it turned out. -Those are halfcrowns, man, Corley corrected him. -And so in point of fact they turned out to be. Stephen anyhow lent him -one of them. -Thanks, Corley answered, you're a gentleman. I'll pay you back one -time. Who's that with you? I saw him a few times in the Bleeding Horse in -Camden street with Boylan, the billsticker. You might put in a good word -for us to get me taken on there. I'd carry a sandwichboard only the girl -in the office told me they're full up for the next three weeks, man. God, -you've to book ahead, man, you'd think it was for the Carl Rosa. I don't -give a shite anyway so long as I get a job, even as a crossing sweeper. -Subsequently being not quite so down in the mouth after the two and six -he got he informed Stephen about a fellow by the name of Bags Comisky -that he said Stephen knew well out of Fullam's, the shipchandler's, -bookkeeper there that used to be often round in Nagle's back with O'Mara -and a little chap with a stutter the name of Tighe. Anyhow he was lagged -the night before last and fined ten bob for a drunk and disorderly and -refusing to go with the constable. -Mr Bloom in the meanwhile kept dodging about in the vicinity of the -cobblestones near the brazier of coke in front of the corporation -watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, it struck him, was -having a quiet forty winks for all intents and purposes on his own -private account while Dublin slept. He threw an odd eye at the same time -now and then at Stephen's anything but immaculately attired interlocutor -as if he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other though where he was -not in a position to truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when. -Being a levelheaded individual who could give points to not a few in -point of shrewd observation he also remarked on his very dilapidated hat -and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a chronic -impecuniosity. Palpably he was one of his hangerson but for the matter of -that it was merely a question of one preying on his nextdoor neighbour -all round, in every deep, so to put it, a deeper depth and for the matter -of that if the man in the street chanced to be in the dock himself penal -servitude with or without the option of a fine would be a very rara avis -altogether. In any case he had a consummate amount of cool assurance -intercepting people at that hour of the night or morning. Pretty thick -that was certainly. -The pair parted company and Stephen rejoined Mr Bloom who, with his -practised eye, was not without perceiving that he had succumbed to the -blandiloquence of the other parasite. Alluding to the encounter he said, -laughingly, Stephen, that is -He is down on his luck. He asked me to ask you to ask somebody named -Boylan, a billsticker, to give him a job as a sandwichman. -At this intelligence, in which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr -Bloom gazed abstractedly for the space of a half a second or so in the -direction of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the farfamed name of Eblana, -moored alongside Customhouse quay and quite possibly out of repair, -whereupon he observed evasively -Everybody gets their own ration of luck, they say. Now you mention it -his face was familiar to me. But, leaving that for the moment, how much -did you part with, he queried, if I am not too inquisitive? -Half a crown, Stephen responded. I daresay he needs it to sleep -somewhere. -Needs Mr Bloom ejaculated, professing not the least surprise at the -intelligence, I can quite credit the assertion and I guarantee he -invariably does. Everyone according to his needs or everyone according to -his deeds. But, talking about things in general, where, added he with a -smile, will you sleep yourself? Walking to Sandycove is out of the -question. And even supposing you did you won't get in after what occurred -at Westland Row station. Simply fag out there for nothing. I don't mean -to presume to dictate to you in the slightest degree but why did you -leave your father's house? -To seek misfortune, was Stephen's answer. -I met your respected father on a recent occasion, Mr Bloom -diplomatically returned, today in fact, or to be strictly accurate, on -yesterday. Where does he live at present? I gathered in the course of -conversation that he had moved. -I believe he is in Dublin somewhere, Stephen answered unconcernedly. -Why? -A gifted man, Mr Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in more respects than -one and a born RACONTEUR if ever there was one. He takes great pride, -quite legitimate, out of you. You could go back perhaps, he hasarded, -still thinking of the very unpleasant scene at Westland Row terminus when -it was perfectly evident that the other two, Mulligan, that is, and that -English tourist friend of his, who eventually euchred their third -companion, were patently trying as if the whole bally station belonged to -them to give Stephen the slip in the confusion, which they did. -There was no response forthcoming to the suggestion however, such as it -was, Stephen's mind's eye being too busily engaged in repicturing his -family hearth the last time he saw it with his sister Dilly sitting by -the ingle, her hair hanging down, waiting for some weak Trinidad shell -cocoa that was in the sootcoated kettle to be done so that she and he -could drink it with the oatmealwater for milk after the Friday herrings -they had eaten at two a penny with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and -Katey, the cat meanwhile under the mangle devouring a mess of eggshells -and charred fish heads and bones on a square of brown paper, in -accordance with the third precept of the church to fast and abstain on -the days commanded, it being quarter tense or if not, ember days or -something like that. -No, Mr Bloom repeated again, I wouldn't personally repose much trust in -that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr -Mulligan, as a guide, philosopher and friend if I were in your shoes. He -knows which side his bread is buttered on though in all probability he -never realised what it is to be without regular meals. Of course you -didn't notice as much as I did. But it wouldn't occasion me the least -surprise to learn that a pinch of tobacco or some narcotic was put in -your drink for some ulterior object. -He understood however from all he heard that Dr Mulligan was a versatile -allround man, by no means confined to medicine only, who was rapidly -coming to the fore in his line and, if the report was verified, bade fair -to enjoy a flourishing practice in the not too distant future as a tony -medical practitioner drawing a handsome fee for his services in addition -to which professional status his rescue of that man from certain drowning -by artificial respiration and what they call first aid at Skerries, or -Malahide was it?, was, he was bound to admit, an exceedingly plucky deed -which he could not too highly praise, so that frankly he was utterly at a -loss to fathom what earthly reason could be at the back of it except he -put it down to sheer cussedness or jealousy, pure and simple. -Except it simply amounts to one thing and he is what they call picking -your brains, he ventured to throw o.ut. -The guarded glance of half solicitude half curiosity augmented by -friendliness which he gave at Stephen's at present morose expression of -features did not throw a flood of light, none at all in fact on the -problem as to whether he had let himself be badly bamboozled to judge by -two or three lowspirited remarks he let drop or the other way about saw -through the affair and for some reason or other best known to himself -allowed matters to more or less. Grinding poverty did have that effect -and he more than conjectured that, high educational abilities though he -possessed, he experienced no little difficulty in making both ends meet. -Adjacent to the men's public urinal they perceived an icecream car round -which a group of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting -rid of voluble expressions in their vivacious language in a particularly -animated way, there being some little differences between the parties. -PUTTANA MADONNA, CHE CI DIA I QUATTRINI HO RAGIONE? CULO ROTTO -INTENDIAMOCI. MEZZO SOVRANO PIU ... -DICE LUI, PERO -MEZZO. -FARABUTTO MORTACCI SUI -MA ASCOLTA CINQUE LA TESTA PIU ... -Mr Bloom and Stephen entered the cabman's shelter, an unpretentious -wooden structure, where, prior to then, he had rarely if ever been -before, the former having previously whispered to the latter a few hints -anent the keeper of it said to be the once famous SkintheGoat -Fitzharris, the invincible, though he could not vouch for the actual -facts which quite possibly there was not one vestige of truth in. A few -moments later saw our two noctambules safely seated in a discreet corner -only to be greeted by stares from the decidedly miscellaneous collection -of waifs and strays and other nondescript specimens of the genus HOMO -already there engaged in eating and drinking diversified by conversation -for whom they seemingly formed an object of marked curiosity. -Now touching a cup of coffee, Mr Bloom ventured to plausibly suggest to -break the ice, it occurs to me you ought to sample something in the shape -of solid food, say, a roll of some description. -Accordingly his first act was with characteristic SANGFROID to order -these commodities quietly. The HOI POLLOI of jarvies or stevedores or -whatever they were after a cursory examination turned their eyes -apparently dissatisfied, away though one redbearded bibulous individual -portion of whose hair was greyish, a sailor probably, still stared for -some appreciable time before transferring his rapt attention to the -floor. Mr Bloom, availing himself of the right of free speech, he having -just a bowing acquaintance with the language in dispute, though, to be -sure, rather in a quandary over VOGLIO, remarked to his PROTEGE in an -audible tone of voice A PROPOS of the battle royal in the street which -was still raging fast and furious -A beautiful language. I mean for singing purposes. Why do you not write -your poetry in that language? BELLA POETRIA It is so melodious and full. -BELLADONNA. VOGLIO. -Stephen, who was trying his dead best to yawn if he could, suffering from -lassitude generally, replied -To fill the ear of a cow elephant. They were haggling over money. -Is that so? Mr Bloom asked. Of course, he subjoined pensively, at the -inward reflection of there being more languages to start with than were -absolutely necessary, it may be only the southern glamour that surrounds -it. -The keeper of the shelter in the middle of this TETEATETE put a boiling -swimming cup of a choice concoction labelled coffee on the table and a -rather antediluvian specimen of a bun, or so it seemed. After which he -beat a retreat to his counter, Mr Bloom determining to have a good square -look at him later on so as not to appear to. For which reason he -encouraged Stephen to proceed with his eyes while he did the honours by -surreptitiously pushing the cup of what was temporarily supposed to be -called coffee gradually nearer him. -Sounds are impostures, Stephen said after a pause of some little time, -like names. Cicero, Podmore. Napoleon, Mr Goodbody. Jesus, Mr Doyle. -Shakespeares were as common as Murphies. What's in a name? -Yes, to be sure, Mr Bloom unaffectedly concurred. Of course. Our name -was changed too, he added, pushing the socalled roll across. -The redbearded sailor who had his weather eye on the newcomers boarded -Stephen, whom he had singled out for attention in particular, squarely by -asking -And what might your name be? -Just in the nick of time Mr Bloom touched his companion's boot but -Stephen, apparently disregarding the warm pressure from an unexpected -quarter, answered -Dedalus. -The sailor stared at him heavily from a pair of drowsy baggy eyes, rather -bunged up from excessive use of boose, preferably good old Hollands and -water. -You know Simon Dedalus? he asked at length. -I've heard of him, Stephen said. -Mr Bloom was all at sea for a moment, seeing the others evidently -eavesdropping too. -He's Irish, the seaman bold affirmed, staring still in much the same -way and nodding. All Irish. -All too Irish, Stephen rejoined. -As for Mr Bloom he could neither make head or tail of the whole business -and he was just asking himself what possible connection when the sailor -of his own accord turned to the other occupants of the shelter with the -remark -I seen him shoot two eggs off two bottles at fifty yards over his -shoulder. The lefthand dead shot. -Though he was slightly hampered by an occasional stammer and his gestures -being also clumsy as it was still he did his best to explain. -Bottles out there, say. Fifty yards measured. Eggs on the bottles. -Cocks his gun over his shoulder. Aims. -He turned his body half round, shut up his right eye completely. Then he -screwed his features up someway sideways and glared out into the night -with an unprepossessing cast of countenance. -Pom he then shouted once. -The entire audience waited, anticipating an additional detonation, there -being still a further egg. -Pom he shouted twice. -Egg two evidently demolished, he nodded and winked, adding -bloodthirstily -BUFFALO BILL SHOOTS TO KILL, -NEVER MISSED NOR HE NEVER WILL. -A silence ensued till Mr Bloom for agreeableness' sake just felt like -asking him whether it was for a marksmanship competition like the Bisley. -Beg pardon, the sailor said. -Long ago? Mr Bloom pursued without flinching a hairsbreadth. -Why, the sailor replied, relaxing to a certain extent under the magic -influence of diamond cut diamond, it might be a matter of ten years. He -toured the wide world with Hengler's Royal Circus. I seen him do that in -Stockholm. -Curious coincidence, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen unobtrusively. -Murphy's my name, the sailor continued. D. B. Murphy of Carrigaloe. -Know where that is? -Queenstown harbour, Stephen replied. -That's right, the sailor said. Fort Camden and Fort Carlisle. That's -where I hails from. I belongs there. That's where I hails from. My little -woman's down there. She's waiting for me, I know. FOR ENGLAND, HOME AND -BEAUTY. She's my own true wife I haven't seen for seven years now, -sailing about. -Mr Bloom could easily picture his advent on this scene, the homecoming to -the mariner's roadside shieling after having diddled Davy Jones, a rainy -night with a blind moon. Across the world for a wife. Quite a number of -stories there were on that particular Alice Ben Bolt topic, Enoch Arden -and Rip van Winkle and does anybody hereabouts remember Caoc O'Leary, a -favourite and most trying declamation piece by the way of poor John Casey -and a bit of perfect poetry in its own small way. Never about the runaway -wife coming back, however much devoted to the absentee. The face at the -window Judge of his astonishment when he finally did breast the tape and -the awful truth dawned upon him anent his better half, wrecked in his -affections. You little expected me but I've come to stay and make a fresh -start. There she sits, a grasswidow, at the selfsame fireside. Believes -me dead, rocked in the cradle of the deep. And there sits uncle Chubb or -Tomkin, as the case might be, the publican of the Crown and Anchor, in -shirtsleeves, eating rumpsteak and onions. No chair for father. Broo The -wind Her brandnew arrival is on her knee, POST MORTEM child. With a high -ro and a randy ro and my galloping tearing tandy, O Bow to the -inevitable. Grin and bear it. I remain with much love your brokenhearted -husband D B Murphy. -The sailor, who scarcely seemed to be a Dublin resident, turned to one of -the jarvies with the request -You don't happen to have such a thing as a spare chaw about you? -The jarvey addressed as it happened had not but the keeper took a die of -plug from his good jacket hanging on a nail and the desired object was -passed from hand to hand. -Thank you, the sailor said. -He deposited the quid in his gob and, chewing and with some slow -stammers, proceeded -We come up this morning eleven o'clock. The threemaster ROSEVEAN from -Bridgwater with bricks. I shipped to get over. Paid off this afternoon. -There's my discharge. See? D. B. Murphy. A. B. S. -In confirmation of which statement he extricated from an inside pocket -and handed to his neighbour a not very cleanlooking folded document. -You must have seen a fair share of the world, the keeper remarked, -leaning on the counter. -Why, the sailor answered upon reflection upon it, I've circumnavigated -a bit since I first joined on. I was in the Red Sea. I was in China and -North America and South America. We was chased by pirates one voyage. I -seen icebergs plenty, growlers. I was in Stockholm and the Black Sea, the -Dardanelles under Captain Dalton, the best bloody man that ever scuttled -a ship. I seen Russia. GOSPODI POMILYOU. That's how the Russians prays. -You seen queer sights, don't be talking, put in a jarvey. -Why, the sailor said, shifting his partially chewed plug. I seen queer -things too, ups and downs. I seen a crocodile bite the fluke of an anchor -same as I chew that quid. -He took out of his mouth the pulpy quid and, lodging it between his -teeth, bit ferociously -Khaan Like that. And I seen maneaters in Peru that eats corpses and -the livers of horses. Look here. Here they are. A friend of mine sent me. -He fumbled out a picture postcard from his inside pocket which seemed to -be in its way a species of repository and pushed it along the table. The -printed matter on it stated CHOZA DE INDIOS. BENI, BOLIVIA. -All focussed their attention at the scene exhibited, a group of savage -women in striped loincloths, squatted, blinking, suckling, frowning, -sleeping amid a swarm of infants there must have been quite a score of -them outside some primitive shanties of osier. -Chews coca all day, the communicative tarpaulin added. Stomachs like -breadgraters. Cuts off their diddies when they can't bear no more -children. -See them sitting there stark ballocknaked eating a dead horse's liver -raw. -His postcard proved a centre of attraction for Messrs the greenhorns for -several minutes if not more. -Know how to keep them off? he inquired generally. -Nobody volunteering a statement he winked, saying -Glass. That boggles 'em. Glass. -Mr Bloom, without evincing surprise, unostentatiously turned over the -card to peruse the partially obliterated address and postmark. It ran as -follows TARJETA POSTAL, SENOR A BOUDIN, GALERIA BECCHE, SANTIAGO, CHILE. -There was no message evidently, as he took particular notice. Though not -an implicit believer in the lurid story narrated or the eggsniping -transaction for that matter despite William Tell and the LazarilloDon -Cesar de Bazan incident depicted in MARITANA on which occasion the -former's ball passed through the latter's hat having detected a -discrepancy between his name assuming he was the person he represented -himself to be and not sailing under false colours after having boxed the -compass on the strict q.t. somewhere and the fictitious addressee of the -missive which made him nourish some suspicions of our friend's BONA FIDES -nevertheless it reminded him in a way of a longcherished plan he meant to -one day realise some Wednesday or Saturday of travelling to London via -long sea not to say that he had ever travelled extensively to any great -extent but he was at heart a born adventurer though by a trick of fate he -had consistently remained a landlubber except you call going to Holyhead -which was his longest. Martin Cunningham frequently said he would work a -pass through Egan but some deuced hitch or other eternally cropped up -with the net result that the scheme fell through. But even suppose it did -come to planking down the needful and breaking Boyd's heart it was not so -dear, purse permitting, a few guineas at the outside considering the fare -to Mullingar where he figured on going was five and six, there and back. -The trip would benefit health on account of the bracing ozone and be in -every way thoroughly pleasurable, especially for a chap whose liver was -out of order, seeing the different places along the route, Plymouth, -Falmouth, Southampton and so on culminating in an instructive tour of the -sights of the great metropolis, the spectacle of our modern Babylon where -doubtless he would see the greatest improvement, tower, abbey, wealth of -Park lane to renew acquaintance with. Another thing just struck him as a -by no means bad notion was he might have a gaze around on the spot to see -about trying to make arrangements about a concert tour of summer music -embracing the most prominent pleasure resorts, Margate with mixed bathing -and firstrate hydros and spas, Eastbourne, Scarborough, Margate and so -on, beautiful Bournemouth, the Channel islands and similar bijou spots, -which might prove highly remunerative. Not, of course, with a hole and -corner scratch company or local ladies on the job, witness Mrs C P M'Coy -type lend me your valise and I'll post you the ticket. No, something top -notch, an all star Irish caste, the TweedyFlower grand opera company -with his own legal consort as leading lady as a sort of counterblast to -the Elster Grimes and MoodyManners, perfectly simple matter and he was -quite sanguine of success, providing puffs in the local papers could be -managed by some fellow with a bit of bounce who could pull the -indispensable wires and thus combine business with pleasure. But who? -That was the rub. Also, without being actually positive, it struck him a -great field was to be opened up in the line of opening up new routes to -keep pace with the times APROPOS of the FishguardRosslare route which, -it was mooted, was once more on the TAPIS in the circumlocution -departments with the usual quantity of red tape and dillydallying of -effete fogeydom and dunderheads generally. A great opportunity there -certainly was for push and enterprise to meet the travelling needs of the -public at large, the average man, i.e. Brown, Robinson and Co. -It was a subject of regret and absurd as well on the face of it and no -small blame to our vaunted society that the man in the street, when the -system really needed toning up, for the matter of a couple of paltry -pounds was debarred from seeing more of the world they lived in instead -of being always and ever cooped up since my old stickinthemud took me -for a wife. After all, hang it, they had their eleven and more humdrum -months of it and merited a radical change of VENUE after the grind of -city life in the summertime for choice when dame Nature is at her -spectacular best constituting nothing short of a new lease of life. There -were equally excellent opportunities for vacationists in the home island, -delightful sylvan spots for rejuvenation, offering a plethora of -attractions as well as a bracing tonic for the system in and around -Dublin and its picturesque environs even, Poulaphouca to which there was -a steamtram, but also farther away from the madding crowd in Wicklow, -rightly termed the garden of Ireland, an ideal neighbourhood for elderly -wheelmen so long as it didn't come down, and in the wilds of Donegal -where if report spoke true the COUP D'OEIL was exceedingly grand though -the lastnamed locality was not easily getatable so that the influx of -visitors was not as yet all that it might be considering the signal -benefits to be derived from it while Howth with its historic associations -and otherwise, Silken Thomas, Grace O'Malley, George IV, rhododendrons -several hundred feet above sealevel was a favourite haunt with all sorts -and conditions of men especially in the spring when young men's fancy, -though it had its own toll of deaths by falling off the cliffs by design -or accidentally, usually, by the way, on their left leg, it being only -about three quarters of an hour's run from the pillar. Because of course -uptodate tourist travelling was as yet merely in its infancy, so to -speak, and the accommodation left much to be desired. Interesting to -fathom it seemed to him from a motive of curiosity, pure and simple, was -whether it was the traffic that created the route or viceversa or the two -sides in fact. He turned back the other side of the card, picture, and -passed it along to Stephen. -I seen a Chinese one time, related the doughty narrator, that had -little pills like putty and he put them in the water and they opened and -every pill was something different. One was a ship, another was a house, -another was a flower. Cooks rats in your soup, he appetisingly added, the -chinks does. -Possibly perceiving an expression of dubiosity on their faces the -globetrotter went on, adhering to his adventures. -And I seen a man killed in Trieste by an Italian chap. Knife in his -back. Knife like that. -Whilst speaking he produced a dangerouslooking claspknife quite in -keeping with his character and held it in the striking position. -In a knockingshop it was count of a tryon between two smugglers. Fellow -hid behind a door, come up behind him. Like that. PREPARE TO MEET YOUR -GOD, says he. Chuk It went into his back up to the butt. -His heavy glance drowsily roaming about kind of defied their further -questions even should they by any chance want to. -That's a good bit of steel, repeated he, examining his formidable -STILETTO. -After which harrowing DENOUEMENT sufficient to appal the stoutest he -snapped the blade to and stowed the weapon in question away as before in -his chamber of horrors, otherwise pocket. -They're great for the cold steel, somebody who was evidently quite in -the dark said for the benefit of them all. That was why they thought the -park murders of the invincibles was done by foreigners on account of them -using knives. -At this remark passed obviously in the spirit of WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS -Mr B. and Stephen, each in his own particular way, both instinctively -exchanged meaning glances, in a religious silence of the strictly ENTRE -NOUS variety however, towards where SkintheGoat, ALIAS the keeper, not -turning a hair, was drawing spurts of liquid from his boiler affair. His -inscrutable face which was really a work of art, a perfect study in -itself, beggaring description, conveyed the impression that he didn't -understand one jot of what was going on. Funny, very -There ensued a somewhat lengthy pause. One man was reading in fits and -starts a stained by coffee evening journal, another the card with the -natives CHOZA DE, another the seaman's discharge. Mr Bloom, so far as he -was personally concerned, was just pondering in pensive mood. He vividly -recollected when the occurrence alluded to took place as well as -yesterday, roughly some score of years previously in the days of the land -troubles, when it took the civilised world by storm, figuratively -speaking, early in the eighties, eightyone to be correct, when he was -just turned fifteen. -Ay, boss, the sailor broke in. Give us back them papers. -The request being complied with he clawed them up with a scrape. -Have you seen the rock of Gibraltar? Mr Bloom inquired. -The sailor grimaced, chewing, in a way that might be read as yes, ay or -no. -Ah, you've touched there too, Mr Bloom said, Europa point, thinking he -had, in the hope that the rover might possibly by some reminiscences but -he failed to do so, simply letting spirt a jet of spew into the sawdust, -and shook his head with a sort of lazy scorn. -What year would that be about? Mr B interrogated. Can you recall the -boats? -Our SOIDISANT sailor munched heavily awhile hungrily before answering -I'm tired of all them rocks in the sea, he said, and boats and ships. -Salt junk all the time. -Tired seemingly, he ceased. His questioner perceiving that he was not -likely to get a great deal of change out of such a wily old customer, -fell to woolgathering on the enormous dimensions of the water about the -globe, suffice it to say that, as a casual glance at the map revealed, it -covered fully three fourths of it and he fully realised accordingly what -it meant to rule the waves. On more than one occasion, a dozen at the -lowest, near the North Bull at Dollymount he had remarked a superannuated -old salt, evidently derelict, seated habitually near the not particularly -redolent sea on the wall, staring quite obliviously at it and it at him, -dreaming of fresh woods and pastures new as someone somewhere sings. And -it left him wondering why. Possibly he had tried to find out the secret -for himself, floundering up and down the antipodes and all that sort of -thing and over and under, well, not exactly under, tempting the fates. -And the odds were twenty to nil there was really no secret about it at -all. Nevertheless, without going into the MINUTIAE of the business, the -eloquent fact remained that the sea was there in all its glory and in the -natural course of things somebody or other had to sail on it and fly in -the face of providence though it merely went to show how people usually -contrived to load that sort of onus on to the other fellow like the hell -idea and the lottery and insurance which were run on identically the same -lines so that for that very reason if no other lifeboat Sunday was a -highly laudable institution to which the public at large, no matter where -living inland or seaside, as the case might be, having it brought home to -them like that should extend its gratitude also to the harbourmasters and -coastguard service who had to man the rigging and push off and out amid -the elements whatever the season when duty called IRELAND EXPECTS THAT -EVERY MAN and so on and sometimes had a terrible time of it in the -wintertime not forgetting the Irish lights, Kish and others, liable to -capsize at any moment, rounding which he once with his daughter had -experienced some remarkably choppy, not to say stormy, weather. -There was a fellow sailed with me in the Rover, the old seadog, himself -a rover, proceeded, went ashore and took up a soft job as gentleman's -valet at six quid a month. Them are his trousers I've on me and he gave -me an oilskin and that jackknife. I'm game for that job, shaving and -brushup. I hate roaming about. There's my son now, Danny, run off to sea -and his mother got him took in a draper's in Cork where he could be -drawing easy money. -What age is he? queried one hearer who, by the way, seen from the side, -bore a distant resemblance to Henry Campbell, the townclerk, away from -the carking cares of office, unwashed of course and in a seedy getup and -a strong suspicion of nosepaint about the nasal appendage. -Why, the sailor answered with a slow puzzled utterance, my son, Danny? -He'd be about eighteen now, way I figure it. -The Skibbereen father hereupon tore open his grey or unclean anyhow shirt -with his two hands and scratched away at his chest on which was to be -seen an image tattooed in blue Chinese ink intended to represent an -anchor. -There was lice in that bunk in Bridgwater, he remarked, sure as nuts. I -must get a wash tomorrow or next day. It's them black lads I objects to. -I hate those buggers. Suck your blood dry, they does. -Seeing they were all looking at his chest he accommodatingly dragged his -shirt more open so that on top of the timehonoured symbol of the -mariner's hope and rest they had a full view of the figure and a young -man's sideface looking frowningly rather. -Tattoo, the exhibitor explained. That was done when we were Iying -becalmed off Odessa in the Black Sea under Captain Dalton. Fellow, the -name of Antonio, done that. There he is himself, a Greek. -Did it hurt much doing it? one asked the sailor. -That worthy, however, was busily engaged in collecting round the. Someway -in his. Squeezing or. -See here, he said, showing Antonio. There he is cursing the mate. And -there he is now, he added, the same fellow, pulling the skin with his -fingers, some special knack evidently, and he laughing at a yarn. -And in point of fact the young man named Antonio's livid face did -actually look like forced smiling and the curious effect excited the -unreserved admiration of everybody including SkintheGoat, who this time -stretched over. -Ay, ay, sighed the sailor, looking down on his manly chest. He's gone -too. Ate by sharks after. Ay, ay. -He let go of the skin so that the profile resumed the normal expression -of before. -Neat bit of work, one longshoreman said. -And what's the number for? loafer number two queried. -Eaten alive? a third asked the sailor. -Ay, ay, sighed again the latter personage, more cheerily this time with -some sort of a half smile for a brief duration only in the direction of -the questioner about the number. Ate. A Greek he was. -And then he added with rather gallowsbird humour considering his alleged -end -AS BAD AS OLD ANTONIO, -FOR HE LEFT ME ON MY OWNIO. -The face of a streetwalker glazed and haggard under a black straw hat -peered askew round the door of the shelter palpably reconnoitring on her -own with the object of bringing more grist to her mill. Mr Bloom, -scarcely knowing which way to look, turned away on the moment flusterfied -but outwardly calm, and, picking up from the table the pink sheet of the -Abbey street organ which the jarvey, if such he was, had laid aside, he -picked it up and looked at the pink of the paper though why pink. His -reason for so doing was he recognised on the moment round the door the -same face he had caught a fleeting glimpse of that afternoon on Ormond -quay, the partially idiotic female, namely, of the lane who knew the lady -in the brown costume does be with you Mrs B. and begged the chance of -his washing. Also why washing which seemed rather vague than not, your -washing. Still candour compelled him to admit he had washed his wife's -undergarments when soiled in Holles street and women would and did too a -man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink -hers were, that is if they really loved him, that is to say, love me, -love my dirty shirt. Still just then, being on tenterhooks, he desired -the female's room more than her company so it came as a genuine relief -when the keeper made her a rude sign to take herself off. Round the side -of the Evening Telegraph he just caught a fleeting glimpse of her face -round the side of the door with a kind of demented glassy grin showing -that she was not exactly all there, viewing with evident amusement the -group of gazers round skipper Murphy's nautical chest and then there was -no more of her. -The gunboat, the keeper said. -It beats me, Mr Bloom confided to Stephen, medically I am speaking, how -a wretched creature like that from the Lock hospital reeking with disease -can be barefaced enough to solicit or how any man in his sober senses, if -he values his health in the least. Unfortunate creature Of course I -suppose some man is ultimately responsible for her condition. Still no -matter what the cause is from ... -Stephen had not noticed her and shrugged his shoulders, merely remarking -In this country people sell much more than she ever had and do a -roaring trade. Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy -the soul. She is a bad merchant. She buys dear and sells cheap. -The elder man, though not by any manner of means an old maid or a prude, -said it was nothing short of a crying scandal that ought to be put a stop -to INSTANTER to say that women of that stamp quite apart from any -oldmaidish squeamishness on the subject, a necessary evil, w ere not -licensed and medically inspected by the proper authorities, a thing, he -could truthfully state, he, as a PATERFAMILIAS, was a stalwart advocate -of from the very first start. Whoever embarked on a policy of the sort, -he said, and ventilated the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon -on everybody concerned. -You as a good catholic, he observed, talking of body and soul, believe -in the soul. Or do you mean the intelligence, the brainpower as such, as -distinct from any outside object, the table, let us say, that cup. I -believe in that myself because it has been explained by competent men as -the convolutions of the grey matter. Otherwise we would never have such -inventions as X rays, for instance. Do you? -Thus cornered, Stephen had to make a superhuman effort of memory to try -and concentrate and remember before he could say -They tell me on the best authority it is a simple substance and -therefore incorruptible. It would be immortal, I understand, but for the -possibility of its annihilation by its First Cause Who, from all I can -hear, is quite capable of adding that to the number of His other -practical jokes, CORRUPTIO PER SE and CORRUPTIO PER ACCIDENS both being -excluded by court etiquette. -Mr Bloom thoroughly acquiesced in the general gist of this though the -mystical finesse involved was a bit out of his sublunary depth still he -felt bound to enter a demurrer on the head of simple, promptly rejoining -Simple? I shouldn't think that is the proper word. Of course, I grant -you, to concede a point, you do knock across a simple soul once in a blue -moon. But what I am anxious to arrive at is it is one thing for instance -to invent those rays Rontgen did or the telescope like Edison, though I -believe it was before his time Galileo was the man, I mean, and the same -applies to the laws, for example, of a farreaching natural phenomenon -such as electricity but it's a horse of quite another colour to say you -believe in the existence of a supernatural God. -O that, Stephen expostulated, has been proved conclusively by several -of the bestknown passages in Holy Writ, apart from circumstantial -evidence. -On this knotty point however the views of the pair, poles apart as they -were both in schooling and everything else with the marked difference in -their respective ages, clashed. -Has been? the more experienced of the two objected, sticking to his -original point with a smile of unbelief. I'm not so sure about that. -That's a matter for everyman's opinion and, without dragging in the -sectarian side of the business, I beg to differ with you IN TOTO there. -My belief is, to tell you the candid truth, that those bits were genuine -forgeries all of them put in by monks most probably or it's the big -question of our national poet over again, who precisely wrote them like -HAMLET and Bacon, as, you who know your Shakespeare infinitely better -than I, of course I needn't tell you. Can't you drink that coffee, by the -way? Let me stir it. And take a piece of that bun. It's like one of our -skipper's bricks disguised. Still noone can give what he hasn't got. Try -a bit. -Couldn't, Stephen contrived to get out, his mental organs for the -moment refusing to dictate further. -Faultfinding being a proverbially bad hat Mr Bloom thought well to stir -or try to the clotted sugar from the bottom and reflected with something -approaching acrimony on the Coffee Palace and its temperance and -lucrative work. To be sure it was a legitimate object and beyond yea or -nay did a world of good, shelters such as the present one they were in -run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night, concerts, dramatic evenings -and useful lectures admittance free by qualified men for the lower -orders. On the other hand he had a distinct and painful recollection they -paid his wife, Madam Marion Tweedy who had been prominently associated -with it at one time, a very modest remuneration indeed for her -pianoplaying. The idea, he was strongly inclined to believe, was to do -good and net a profit, there being no competition to speak of. Sulphate -of copper poison SO or something in some dried peas he remembered -reading of in a cheap eatinghouse somewhere but he couldn't remember when -it was or where. Anyhow inspection, medical inspection, of all eatables -seemed to him more than ever necessary which possibly accounted for the -vogue of Dr Tibble's ViCocoa on account of the medical analysis -involved. -Have a shot at it now, he ventured to say of the coffee after being -stirred. -Thus prevailed on to at any rate taste it Stephen lifted the heavy mug -from the brown puddle it clopped out of when taken up by the handle and -took a sip of the offending beverage. -Still it's solid food, his good genius urged, I'm a stickler for solid -food, his one and only reason being not gormandising in the least but -regular meals as the SINE QUA NON for any kind of proper work, mental or -manual. You ought to eat more solid food. You would feel a different man. -Liquids I can eat, Stephen said. But O, oblige me by taking away that -knife. I can't look at the point of it. It reminds me of Roman history. -Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article, -a blunt hornhandled ordinary knife with nothing particularly Roman or -antique about it to the lay eye, observing that the point was the least -conspicuous point about it. -Our mutual friend's stories are like himself, Mr Bloom APROPOS of -knives remarked to his CONFIDANTE SOTTO VOCE. Do you think they are -genuine? He could spin those yarns for hours on end all night long and -lie like old boots. Look at him. -Yet still though his eyes were thick with sleep and sea air life was full -of a host of things and coincidences of a terrible nature and it was -quite within the bounds of possibility that it was not an entire -fabrication though at first blush there was not much inherent probability -in all the spoof he got off his chest being strictly accurate gospel. -He had been meantime taking stock of the individual in front of him and -Sherlockholmesing him up ever since he clapped eyes on him. Though a -wellpreserved man of no little stamina, if a trifle prone to baldness, -there was something spurious in the cut of his jib that suggested a jail -delivery and it required no violent stretch of imagination to associate -such a weirdlooking specimen with the oakum and treadmill fraternity. He -might even have done for his man supposing it was his own case he told, -as people often did about others, namely, that he killed him himself and -had served his four or five goodlooking years in durance vile to say -nothing of the Antonio personage no relation to the dramatic personage -of identical name who sprang from the pen of our national poet who -expiated his crimes in the melodramatic manner above described. On the -other hand he might be only bluffing, a pardonable weakness because -meeting unmistakable mugs, Dublin residents, like those jarvies waiting -news from abroad would tempt any ancient mariner who sailed the ocean -seas to draw the long bow about the schooner HESPERUS and etcetera. And -when all was said and done the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't -probably hold a proverbial candle to the wholesale whoppers other fellows -coined about him. -Mind you, I'm not saying that it's all a pure invention, he resumed. -Analogous scenes are occasionally, if not often, met with. Giants, though -that is rather a far cry, you see once in a way, Marcella the midget -queen. In those waxworks in Henry street I myself saw some Aztecs, as -they are called, sitting bowlegged, they couldn't straighten their legs -if you paid them because the muscles here, you see, he proceeded, -indicating on his companion the brief outline of the sinews or whatever -you like to call them behind the right knee, were utterly powerless from -sitting that way so long cramped up, being adored as gods. There's an -example again of simple souls. -However reverting to friend Sinbad and his horrifying adventures who -reminded him a bit of Ludwig, ALIAS Ledwidge, when he occupied the boards -of the Gaiety when Michael Gunn was identified with the management in the -FLYING DUTCHMAN, a stupendous success, and his host of admirers came in -large numbers, everyone simply flocking to hear him though ships of any -sort, phantom or the reverse, on the stage usually fell a bit flat as -also did trains there was nothing intrinsically incompatible about it, -he conceded. On the contrary that stab in the back touch was quite in -keeping with those italianos though candidly he was none the less free to -admit those icecreamers and friers in the fish way not to mention the -chip potato variety and so forth over in little Italy there near the -Coombe were sober thrifty hardworking fellows except perhaps a bit too -given to pothunting the harmless necessary animal of the feline -persuasion of others at night so as to have a good old succulent tuckin -with garlic DE RIGUEUR off him or her next day on the quiet and, he -added, on the cheap. -Spaniards, for instance, he continued, passionate temperaments like -that, impetuous as Old Nick, are given to taking the law into their own -hands and give you your quietus doublequick with those poignards they -carry in the abdomen. It comes from the great heat, climate generally. My -wife is, so to speak, Spanish, half that is. Point of fact she could -actually claim Spanish nationality if she wanted, having been born in -technically Spain, i.e. Gibraltar. She has the Spanish type. Quite -dark, regular brunette, black. I for one certainly believe climate -accounts for character. That's why I asked you if you wrote your poetry -in Italian. -The temperaments at the door, Stephen interposed with, were very -passionate about ten shillings. ROBERTO RUBA ROBA SUA. -Quite so, Mr Bloom dittoed. -Then, Stephen said staring and rambling on to himself or some unknown -listener somewhere, we have the impetuosity of Dante and the isosceles -triangle miss Portinari he fell in love with and Leonardo and san Tommaso -Mastino. -It's in the blood, Mr Bloom acceded at once. All are washed in the -blood of the sun. Coincidence I just happened to be in the Kildare street -museum today, shortly prior to our meeting if I can so call it, and I -was just looking at those antique statues there. The splendid proportions -of hips, bosom. You simply don't knock against those kind of women here. -An exception here and there. Handsome yes, pretty in a way you find but -what I'm talking about is the female form. Besides they have so little -taste in dress, most of them, which greatly enhances a woman's natural -beauty, no matter what you say. Rumpled stockings, it may be, possibly -is, a foible of mine but still it's a thing I simply hate to see. -Interest, however, was starting to flag somewhat all round and then the -others got on to talking about accidents at sea, ships lost in a fog, goo -collisions with icebergs, all that sort of thing. Shipahoy of course had -his own say to say. He had doubled the cape a few odd times and weathered -a monsoon, a kind of wind, in the China seas and through all those perils -of the deep there was one thing, he declared, stood to him or words to -that effect, a pious medal he had that saved him. -So then after that they drifted on to the wreck off Daunt's rock, wreck -of that illfated Norwegian barque nobody could think of her name for the -moment till the jarvey who had really quite a look of Henry Campbell -remembered it PALME on Booterstown strand. That was the talk of the town -that year Albert William Quill wrote a fine piece of original verse of -distinctive merit on the topic for the Irish TIMES, breakers running -over her and crowds and crowds on the shore in commotion petrified with -horror. Then someone said something about the case of the S. S. LADY -CAIRNS of Swansea run into by the MONA which was on an opposite tack in -rather muggyish weather and lost with all hands on deck. No aid was -given. Her master, the MONA'S, said he was afraid his collision bulkhead -would give way. She had no water, it appears, in her hold. -At this stage an incident happened. It having become necessary for him to -unfurl a reef the sailor vacated his seat. -Let me cross your bows mate, he said to his neighbour who was just -gently dropping off into a peaceful doze. -He made tracks heavily, slowly with a dumpy sort of a gait to the door, -stepped heavily down the one step there was out of the shelter and bore -due left. While he was in the act of getting his bearings Mr Bloom who -noticed when he stood up that he had two flasks of presumably ship's rum -sticking one out of each pocket for the private consumption of his -burning interior, saw him produce a bottle and uncork it or unscrew and, -applying its nozzle to his lips, take a good old delectable swig out of -it with a gurgling noise. The irrepressible Bloom, who also had a shrewd -suspicion that the old stager went out on a manoeuvre after the -counterattraction in the shape of a female who however had disappeared to -all intents and purposes, could by straining just perceive him, when duly -refreshed by his rum puncheon exploit, gaping up at the piers and girders -of the Loop line rather out of his depth as of course it was all -radically altered since his last visit and greatly improved. Some person -or persons invisible directed him to the male urinal erected by the -cleansing committee all over the place for the purpose but after a brief -space of time during which silence reigned supreme the sailor, evidently -giving it a wide berth, eased himself closer at hand, the noise of his -bilgewater some little time subsequently splashing on the ground where it -apparently awoke a horse of the cabrank. A hoof scooped anyway for new -foothold after sleep and harness jingled. Slightly disturbed in his -sentrybox by the brazier of live coke the watcher of the corporation -stones who, though now broken down and fast breaking up, was none other -in stern reality than the Gumley aforesaid, now practically on the parish -rates, given the temporary job by Pat Tobin in all human probability from -dictates of humanity knowing him before shifted about and shuffled in his -box before composing his limbs again in to the arms of Morpheus, a truly -amazing piece of hard lines in its most virulent form on a fellow most -respectably connected and familiarised with decent home comforts all his -life who came in for a cool pounds a year at one time which of course -the doublebarrelled ass proceeded to make general ducks and drakes of. -And there he was at the end of his tether after having often painted the -town tolerably pink without a beggarly stiver. He drank needless to be -told and it pointed only once more a moral when he might quite easily be -in a large way of business ifa big if, howeverhe had contrived to -cure himself of his particular partiality. -All meantime were loudly lamenting the falling off in Irish shipping, -coastwise and foreign as well, which was all part and parcel of the same -thing. A Palgrave Murphy boat was put off the ways at Alexandra basin, -the only launch that year. Right enough the harbours were there only no -ships ever called. -There were wrecks and wreckers, the keeper said, who was evidently AU -FAIT. -What he wanted to ascertain was why that ship ran bang against the only -rock in Galway bay when the Galway harbour scheme was mooted by a Mr -Worthington or some name like that, eh? Ask the then captain, he advised -them, how much palmoil the British government gave him for that day's -work, Captain John Lever of the Lever Line. -Am I right, skipper? he queried of the sailor, now returning after his -private potation and the rest of his exertions. -That worthy picking up the scent of the fagend of the song or words -growled in wouldbe music but with great vim some kind of chanty or other -in seconds or thirds. Mr Bloom's sharp ears heard him then expectorate -the plug probably which it was, so that he must have lodged it for the -time being in his fist while he did the drinking and making water jobs -and found it a bit sour after the liquid fire in question. Anyhow in he -rolled after his successful libationCUMpotation, introducing an -atmosphere of drink into the SOIREE, boisterously trolling, like a -veritable son of a seacook -THE BISCUITS WAS AS HARD AS BRASS -AND THE BEEF AS SALT AS LOT'S WIFE'S ARSE. -O, JOHNNY LEVER -JOHNNY LEVER, O -After which effusion the redoubtable specimen duly arrived on the scene -and regaining his seat he sank rather than sat heavily on the form -provided. SkintheGoat, assuming he was he, evidently with an axe to -grind, was airing his grievances in a forciblefeeble philippic anent the -natural resources of Ireland or something of that sort which he described -in his lengthy dissertation as the richest country bar none on the face -of God's earth, far and away superior to England, with coal in large -quantities, six million pounds worth of pork exported every year, ten -millions between butter and eggs and all the riches drained out of it by -England levying taxes on the poor people that paid through the nose -always and gobbling up the best meat in the market and a lot more surplus -steam in the same vein. Their conversation accordingly became general and -all agreed that that was a fact. You could grow any mortal thing in Irish -soil, he stated, and there was that colonel Everard down there in Navan -growing tobacco. Where would you find anywhere the like of Irish bacon? -But a day of reckoning, he stated CRESCENDO with no uncertain voice, -thoroughly monopolising all the conversation, was in store for mighty -England, despite her power of pelf on account of her crimes. There would -be a fall and the greatest fall in history. The Germans and the Japs were -going to have their little lookin, he affirmed. The Boers were the -beginning of the end. Brummagem England was toppling already and her -downfall would be Ireland, her Achilles heel, which he explained to them -about the vulnerable point of Achilles, the Greek hero, a point his -auditors at once seized as he completely gripped their attention by -showing the tendon referred to on his boot. His advice to every Irishman -was stay in the land of your birth and work for Ireland and live for -Ireland. Ireland, Parnell said, could not spare a single one of her sons. -Silence all round marked the termination of his FINALE. The impervious -navigator heard these lurid tidings, undismayed. -Take a bit of doing, boss, retaliated that rough diamond palpably a bit -peeved in response to the foregoing truism. -To which cold douche referring to downfall and so on the keeper concurred -but nevertheless held to his main view. -Who's the best troops in the army? the grizzled old veteran irately -interrogated. And the best jumpers and racers? And the best admirals and -generals we've got? Tell me that. -The Irish, for choice, retorted the cabby like Campbell, facial -blemishes apart. -That's right, the old tarpaulin corroborated. The Irish catholic -peasant. He's the backbone of our empire. You know Jem Mullins? -While allowing him his individual opinions as everyman the keeper added -he cared nothing for any empire, ours or his, and considered no Irishman -worthy of his salt that served it. Then they began to have a few -irascible words when it waxed hotter, both, needless to say, appealing to -the listeners who followed the passage of arms with interest so long as -they didn't indulge in recriminations and come to blows. -From inside information extending over a series of years Mr Bloom was -rather inclined to poohpooh the suggestion as egregious balderdash for, -pending that consummation devoutly to be or not to be wished for, he was -fully cognisant of the fact that their neighbours across the channel, -unless they were much bigger fools than he took them for, rather -concealed their strength than the opposite. It was quite on a par with -the quixotic idea in certain quarters that in a hundred million years the -coal seam of the sister island would be played out and if, as time went -on, that turned out to be how the cat jumped all he could personally say -on the matter was that as a host of contingencies, equally relevant to -the issue, might occur ere then it was highly advisable in the interim to -try to make the most of both countries even though poles apart. Another -little interesting point, the amours of whores and chummies, to put it in -common parlance, reminded him Irish soldiers had as often fought for -England as against her, more so, in fact. And now, why? So the scene -between the pair of them, the licensee of the place rumoured to be or -have been Fitzharris, the famous invincible, and the other, obviously -bogus, reminded him forcibly as being on all fours with the confidence -trick, supposing, that is, it was prearranged as the lookeron, a student -of the human soul if anything, the others seeing least of the game. And -as for the lessee or keeper, who probably wasn't the other person at all, -he B. couldn't help feeling and most properly it was better to give -people like that the goby unless you were a blithering idiot altogether -and refuse to have anything to do with them as a golden rule in private -life and their felonsetting, there always being the offchance of a -Dannyman coming forward and turning queen's evidence or king's now like -Denis or Peter Carey, an idea he utterly repudiated. Quite apart from -that he disliked those careers of wrongdoing and crime on principle. Yet, -though such criminal propensities had never been an inmate of his bosom -in any shape or form, he certainly did feel and no denying it while -inwardly remaining what he was a certain kind of admiration for a man -who had actually brandished a knife, cold steel, with the courage of his -political convictions though, personally, he would never be a party to -any such thing, off the same bat as those love vendettas of the south, -have her or swing for her, when the husband frequently, after some words -passed between the two concerning her relations with the other lucky -mortal he having had the pair watched, inflicted fatal injuries on his -adored one as a result of an alternative postnuptial LIAISON by plunging -his knife into her, until it just struck him that Fitz, nicknamed Skin -theGoat, merely drove the car for the actual perpetrators of the outrage -and so was not, if he was reliably informed, actually party to the ambush -which, in point of fact, was the plea some legal luminary saved his skin -on. In any case that was very ancient history by now and as for our -friend, the pseudo Skintheetcetera, he had transparently outlived his -welcome. He ought to have either died naturally or on the scaffold high. -Like actresses, always farewell positively last performance then come up -smiling again. Generous to a fault of course, temperamental, no -economising or any idea of the sort, always snapping at the bone for the -shadow. So similarly he had a very shrewd suspicion that Mr Johnny Lever -got rid of some l s d. in the course of his perambulations round the -docks in the congenial atmosphere of the OLD IRELAND tavern, come back to -Erin and so on. Then as for the other he had heard not so long before the -same identical lingo as he told Stephen how he simply but effectually -silenced the offender. -He took umbrage at something or other, that muchinjured but on the -whole eventempered person declared, I let slip. He called me a jew and in -a heated fashion offensively. So I without deviating from plain facts in -the least told him his God, I mean Christ, was a jew too and all his -family like me though in reality I'm not. That was one for him. A soft -answer turns away wrath. He hadn't a word to say for himself as everyone -saw. Am I not right? -He turned a long you are wrong gaze on Stephen of timorous dark pride at -the soft impeachment with a glance also of entreaty for he seemed to -glean in a kind of a way that it wasn't all exactly. -EX QUIBUS, Stephen mumbled in a noncommittal accent, their two or four -eyes conversing, CHRISTUS or Bloom his name is or after all any other, -SECUNDUM CARNEM. -Of course, Mr B. proceeded to stipulate, you must look at both sides of -the question. It is hard to lay down any hard and fast rules as to right -and wrong but room for improvement all round there certainly is though -every country, they say, our own distressful included, has the government -it deserves. But with a little goodwill all round. It's all very fine to -boast of mutual superiority but what about mutual equality. I resent -violence and intolerance in any shape or form. It never reaches anything -or stops anything. A revolution must come on the due instalments plan. -It's a patent absurdity on the face of it to hate people because they -live round the corner and speak another vernacular, in the next house so -to speak. -Memorable bloody bridge battle and seven minutes' war, Stephen -assented, between Skinner's alley and Ormond market. -Yes, Mr Bloom thoroughly agreed, entirely endorsing the remark, that was -overwhelmingly right. And the whole world was full of that sort of thing. -You just took the words out of my mouth, he said. A hocuspocus of -conflicting evidence that candidly you couldn't remotely ... -All those wretched quarrels, in his humble opinion, stirring up bad -blood, from some bump of combativeness or gland of some kind, erroneously -supposed to be about a punctilio of honour and a flag, were very largely -a question of the money question which was at the back of everything -greed and jealousy, people never knowing when to stop. -They accuse, remarked he audibly. -He turned away from the others who probably and spoke nearer to, so as -the others in case they. -Jews, he softly imparted in an aside in Stephen's ear, are accused of -ruining. Not a vestige of truth in it, I can safely say. History, would -you be surprised to learn, proves up to the hilt Spain decayed when the -inquisition hounded the jews out and England prospered when Cromwell, an -uncommonly able ruffian who in other respects has much to answer for, -imported them. Why? Because they are imbued with the proper spirit. They -are practical and are proved to be so. I don't want to indulge in any -because you know the standard works on the subject and then orthodox as -you are. But in the economic, not touching religion, domain the priest -spells poverty. Spain again, you saw in the war, compared with goahead -America. Turks. It's in the dogma. Because if they didn't believe they'd -go straight to heaven when they die they'd try to live better, at least -so I think. That's the juggle on which the p.p's raise the wind on false -pretences. I'm, he resumed with dramatic force, as good an Irishman as -that rude person I told you about at the outset and I want to see -everyone, concluded he, all creeds and classes PRO RATA having a -comfortable tidysized income, in no niggard fashion either, something in -the neighbourhood of pounds per annum. That's the vital issue at -stake and it's feasible and would be provocative of friendlier -intercourse between man and man. At least that's my idea for what it's -worth. I call that patriotism. UBI PATRIA, as we learned a smattering of -in our classical days in ALMA MATER, VITA BENE. Where you can live well, -the sense is, if you work. -Over his untastable apology for a cup of coffee, listening to this -synopsis of things in general, Stephen stared at nothing in particular. -He could hear, of course, all kinds of words changing colour like those -crabs about Ringsend in the morning burrowing quickly into all colours of -different sorts of the same sand where they had a home somewhere beneath -or seemed to. Then he looked up and saw the eyes that said or didn't say -the words the voice he heard said, if you work. -Count me out, he managed to remark, meaning work. -The eyes were surprised at this observation because as he, the person who -owned them pro tem. observed or rather his voice speaking did, all must -work, have to, together. -I mean, of course, the other hastened to affirm, work in the widest -possible sense. Also literary labour not merely for the kudos of the -thing. Writing for the newspapers which is the readiest channel nowadays. -That's work too. Important work. After all, from the little I know of -you, after all the money expended on your education you are entitled to -recoup yourself and command your price. You have every bit as much right -to live by your pen in pursuit of your philosophy as the peasant has. -What? You both belong to Ireland, the brain and the brawn. Each is -equally important. -You suspect, Stephen retorted with a sort of a half laugh, that I may -be important because I belong to the FAUBOURG SAINT PATRICE called -Ireland for short. -I would go a step farther, Mr Bloom insinuated. -But I suspect, Stephen interrupted, that Ireland must be important -because it belongs to me. -What belongs, queried Mr Bloom bending, fancying he was perhaps under -some misapprehension. Excuse me. Unfortunately, I didn't catch the latter -portion. What was it you ...? -Stephen, patently crosstempered, repeated and shoved aside his mug of -coffee or whatever you like to call it none too politely, adding -We can't change the country. Let us change the subject. -At this pertinent suggestion Mr Bloom, to change the subject, looked down -but in a quandary, as he couldn't tell exactly what construction to put -on belongs to which sounded rather a far cry. The rebuke of some kind was -clearer than the other part. Needless to say the fumes of his recent orgy -spoke then with some asperity in a curious bitter way foreign to his -sober state. Probably the homelife to which Mr B attached the utmost -importance had not been all that was needful or he hadn't been -familiarised with the right sort of people. With a touch of fear for the -young man beside him whom he furtively scrutinised with an air of some -consternation remembering he had just come back from Paris, the eyes more -especially reminding him forcibly of father and sister, failing to throw -much light on the subject, however, he brought to mind instances of -cultured fellows that promised so brilliantly nipped in the bud of -premature decay and nobody to blame but themselves. For instance there -was the case of O'Callaghan, for one, the halfcrazy faddist, respectably -connected though of inadequate means, with his mad vagaries among whose -other gay doings when rotto and making himself a nuisance to everybody -all round he was in the habit of ostentatiously sporting in public a suit -of brown paper a fact. And then the usual DENOUEMENT after the fun had -gone on fast and furious he got landed into hot water and had to be -spirited away by a few friends, after a strong hint to a blind horse from -John Mallon of Lower Castle Yard, so as not to be made amenable under -section two of the criminal law amendment act, certain names of those -subpoenaed being handed in but not divulged for reasons which will occur -to anyone with a pick of brains. Briefly, putting two and two together, -six sixteen which he pointedly turned a deaf ear to, Antonio and so -forth, jockeys and esthetes and the tattoo which was all the go in the -seventies or thereabouts even in the house of lords because early in life -the occupant of the throne, then heir apparent, the other members of the -upper ten and other high personages simply following in the footsteps of -the head of the state, he reflected about the errors of notorieties and -crowned heads running counter to morality such as the Cornwall case a -number of years before under their veneer in a way scarcely intended by -nature, a thing good Mrs Grundy, as the law stands, was terribly down on -though not for the reason they thought they were probably whatever it was -except women chiefly who were always fiddling more or less at one another -it being largely a matter of dress and all the rest of it. Ladies who -like distinctive underclothing should, and every welltailored man must, -trying to make the gap wider between them by innuendo and give more of a -genuine filip to acts of impropriety between the two, she unbuttoned his -and then he untied her, mind the pin, whereas savages in the cannibal -islands, say, at ninety degrees in the shade not caring a continental. -However, reverting to the original, there were on the other hand others -who had forced their way to the top from the lowest rung by the aid of -their bootstraps. Sheer force of natural genius, that. With brains, sir. -For which and further reasons he felt it was his interest and duty even -to wait on and profit by the unlookedfor occasion though why he could not -exactly tell being as it was already several shillings to the bad having -in fact let himself in for it. Still to cultivate the acquaintance of -someone of no uncommon calibre who could provide food for reflection -would amply repay any small. Intellectual stimulation, as such, was, he -felt, from time to time a firstrate tonic for the mind. Added to which -was the coincidence of meeting, discussion, dance, row, old salt of the -here today and gone tomorrow type, night loafers, the whole galaxy of -events, all went to make up a miniature cameo of the world we live in -especially as the lives of the submerged tenth, viz. coalminers, divers, -scavengers etc., were very much under the microscope lately. To improve -the shining hour he wondered whether he might meet with anything -approaching the same luck as Mr Philip Beaufoy if taken down in writing -suppose he were to pen something out of the common groove as he fully -intended doing at the rate of one guinea per column. MY EXPERIENCES, let -us say, IN A CABMAN'S SHELTER. -The pink edition extra sporting of the TELEGRAPH tell a graphic lie lay, -as luck would have it, beside his elbow and as he was just puzzling -again, far from satisfied, over a country belonging to him and the -preceding rebus the vessel came from Bridgwater and the postcard was -addressed A. Boudin find the captain's age, his eyes went aimlessly over -the respective captions which came under his special province the -allembracing give us this day our daily press. First he got a bit of a -start but it turned out to be only something about somebody named H. du -Boyes, agent for typewriters or something like that. Great battle, Tokio. -Lovemaking in Irish, pounds damages. Gordon Bennett. Emigration -Swindle. Letter from His Grace. William. Ascot meeting, the Gold Cup. -Victory of outsider THROWAWAY recalls Derby of ' when Capt. Marshall's -dark horse SIR HUGO captured the blue ribband at long odds. New York -disaster. Thousand lives lost. Foot and Mouth. Funeral of the late Mr -Patrick Dignam. -So to change the subject he read about Dignam R. I. P. which, he -reflected, was anything but a gay sendoff. Or a change of address anyway. -THIS MORNING Hynes put it in of course THE REMAINS OF THE LATE MR -PATRICK DIGNAM WERE REMOVED FROM HIS RESIDENCE, NO NEWBRIDGE AVENUE, -SANDYMOUNT, FOR INTERMENT IN GLASNEVIN. THE DECEASED GENTLEMAN WAS A MOST -POPULAR AND GENIAL PERSONALITY IN CITY LIFE AND HIS DEMISE AFTER A BRIEF -ILLNESS CAME AS A GREAT SHOCK TO CITIZENS OF ALL CLASSES BY WHOM HE IS -DEEPLY REGRETTED. THE OBSEQUIES, AT WHICH MANY FRIENDS OF THE DECEASED -WERE PRESENT, WERE CARRIED OUT certainly Hynes wrote it with a nudge -from Corny BY MESSRS H. J. O'NEILL AND SON, NORTH STRAND ROAD. THE -MOURNERS INCLUDED PATK. DIGNAM SON, BERNARD CORRIGAN BROTHERINLAW, -JNO. HENRY MENTON, SOLR, MARTIN CUNNINGHAM, JOHN POWER, .EATONDPH / -ADOR DORADOR DOURADORA must be where he called Monks the dayfather about -Keyes's ad THOMAS KERNAN, SIMON DEDALUS, STEPHEN DEDALUS B. ,., EDW. J. -LAMBERT, CORNELIUS T. KELLEHER, JOSEPH M'C HYNES, L. BOOM, CP M'COY, -M'LNTOSH AND SEVERAL OTHERS. -Nettled not a little by L. BOOM as it incorrectly stated and the line -of bitched type but tickled to death simultaneously by C. P. M'Coy and -Stephen Dedalus B. A. who were conspicuous, needless to say, by their -total absence to say nothing of M'Intosh L. Boom pointed it out to his -companion B. A. engaged in stifling another yawn, half nervousness, not -forgetting the usual crop of nonsensical howlers of misprints. -Is that first epistle to the Hebrews, he asked as soon as his bottom -jaw would let him, in? Text open thy mouth and put thy foot in it. -It is. Really, Mr Bloom said though first he fancied he alluded to the -archbishop till he added about foot and mouth with which there could be -no possible connection overjoyed to set his mind at rest and a bit -flabbergasted at Myles Crawford's after all managing to. There. -While the other was reading it on page two Boom to give him for the -nonce his new misnomer whiled away a few odd leisure moments in fits and -starts with the account of the third event at Ascot on page three, his -side. Value sovs with sovs in specie added. For entire colts -and fillies. Mr F. Alexander's THROWAWAY, b. h. by RIGHTAWAY, yrs, st - lbs W. Lane , lord Howard de Walden's ZINFANDEL M. Cannon z, Mr W. -Bass's SCEPTRE . Betting to on ZINFANDEL, to THROWAWAY off. -SCEPTRE a shade heavier, to on ZINFANDEL, to THROWAWAY off. -THROWAWAY and ZINFANDEL stood close order. It was anybody's race then the -rank outsider drew to the fore, got long lead, beating lord Howard de -Walden's chestnut colt and Mr W. Bass's bay filly SCEPTRE on a / mile -course. Winner trained by Braime so that Lenehan's version of the -business was all pure buncombe. Secured the verdict cleverly by a length. - sovs with in specie. Also ran J de Bremond's French horse -Bantam Lyons was anxiously inquiring after not in yet but expected any -minute MAXIMUM II. Different ways of bringing off a coup. Lovemaking -damages. Though that halfbaked Lyons ran off at a tangent in his -impetuosity to get left. Of course gambling eminently lent itself to that -sort of thing though as the event turned out the poor fool hadn't much -reason to congratulate himself on his pick, the forlorn hope. Guesswork -it reduced itself to eventually. -There was every indication they would arrive at that, he, Bloom, said. -Who? the other, whose hand by the way was hurt, said. -One morning you would open the paper, the cabman affirmed, and read -RETURN OF PARNELL. He bet them what they liked. A Dublin fusilier was in -that shelter one night and said he saw him in South Africa. Pride it was -killed him. He ought to have done away with himself or lain low for a -time after committee room no until he was his old self again with no -one to point a finger at him. Then they would all to a man have gone down -on their marrowbones to him to come back when he had recovered his -senses. Dead he wasn't. Simply absconded somewhere. The coffin they -brought over was full of stones. He changed his name to De Wet, the Boer -general. He made a mistake to fight the priests. And so forth and so on. -All the same Bloom properly so dubbed was rather surprised at their -memories for in nine cases out of ten it was a case of tarbarrels and not -singly but in their thousands and then complete oblivion because it was -twenty odd years. Highly unlikely of course there was even a shadow of -truth in the stones and, even supposing, he thought a return highly -inadvisable, all things considered. Something evidently riled them in his -death. Either he petered out too tamely of acute pneumonia just when his -various different political arrangements were nearing completion or -whether it transpired he owed his death to his having neglected to change -his boots and clothesafter a wetting when a cold resulted and failing to -consult a specialist he being confined to his room till he eventually -died of it amid widespread regret before a fortnight was at an end or -quite possibly they were distressed to find the job was taken out of -their hands. Of course nobody being acquainted with his movements even -before there was absolutely no clue as to his whereabouts which were -decidedly of the ALICE, WHERE ART THOU order even prior to his starting -to go under several aliases such as Fox and Stewart so the remark which -emanated from friend cabby might be within the bounds of possibility. -Naturally then it would prey on his mind as a born leader of men which -undoubtedly he was and a commanding figure, a sixfooter or at any rate -five feet ten or eleven in his stockinged feet, whereas Messrs So and So -who, though they weren't even a patch on the former man, ruled the roost -after their redeeming features were very few and far between. It -certainly pointed a moral, the idol with feet of clay, and then -seventytwo of his trusty henchmen rounding on him with mutual -mudslinging. And the identical same with murderers. You had to come back. -That haunting sense kind of drew you. To show the understudy in the title -ROLE how to. He saw him once on the auspicious occasion when they broke -up the type in the INSUPPRESSIBLE or was it UNITED IRELAND, a privilege -he keenly appreciated, and, in point of fact, handed him his silk hat -when it was knocked off and he said THANK YOU, excited as he undoubtedly -was under his frigid exterior notwithstanding the little misadventure -mentioned between the cup and the lip what's bred in the bone. Still as -regards return. You were a lucky dog if they didn't set the terrier at -you directly you got back. Then a lot of shillyshally usually followed, -Tom for and Dick and Harry against. And then, number one, you came up -against the man in possession and had to produce your credentials like -the claimant in the Tichborne case, Roger Charles Tichborne, BELLA was -the boat's name to the best of his recollection he, the heir, went down -in as the evidence went to show and there was a tattoo mark too in Indian -ink, lord Bellew was it, as he might very easily have picked up the -details from some pal on board ship and then, when got up to tally with -the description given, introduce himself with EXCUSE ME, MY NAME IS SO -AND SO or some such commonplace remark. A more prudent course, as Bloom -said to the not over effusive, in fact like the distinguished personage -under discussion beside him, would have been to sound the lie of the land -first. -That bitch, that English whore, did for him, the shebeen proprietor -commented. She put the first nail in his coffin. -Fine lump of a woman all the same, the SOIDISANT townclerk Henry -Campbell remarked, and plenty of her. She loosened many a man's thighs. I -seen her picture in a barber's. The husband was a captain or an officer. -Ay, SkintheGoat amusingly added, he was and a cottonball one. -This gratuitous contribution of a humorous character occasioned a fair -amount of laughter among his ENTOURAGE. As regards Bloom he, without the -faintest suspicion of a smile, merely gazed in the direction of the door -and reflected upon the historic story which had aroused extraordinary -interest at the time when the facts, to make matters worse, were made -public with the usual affectionate letters that passed between them full -of sweet nothings. First it was strictly Platonic till nature intervened -and an attachment sprang up between them till bit by bit matters came to -a climax and the matter became the talk of the town till the staggering -blow came as a welcome intelligence to not a few evildisposed, however, -who were resolved upon encompassing his downfall though the thing was -public property all along though not to anything like the sensational -extent that it subsequently blossomed into. Since their names were -coupled, though, since he was her declared favourite, where was the -particular necessity to proclaim it to the rank and file from the -housetops, the fact, namely, that he had shared her bedroom which came -out in the witnessbox on oath when a thrill went through the packed court -literally electrifying everybody in the shape of witnesses swearing to -having witnessed him on such and such a particular date in the act of -scrambling out of an upstairs apartment with the assistance of a ladder -in night apparel, having gained admittance in the same fashion, a fact -the weeklies, addicted to the lubric a little, simply coined shoals of -money out of. Whereas the simple fact of the case was it was simply a -case of the husband not being up to the scratch, with nothing in common -between them beyond the name, and then a real man arriving on the scene, -strong to the verge of weakness, falling a victim to her siren charms and -forgetting home ties, the usual sequel, to bask in the loved one's -smiles. The eternal question of the life connubial, needless to say, -cropped up. Can real love, supposing there happens to be another chap in -the case, exist between married folk? Poser. Though it was no concern of -theirs absolutely if he regarded her with affection, carried away by a -wave of folly. A magnificent specimen of manhood he was truly augmented -obviously by gifts of a high order, as compared with the other military -supernumerary that is who was just the usual everyday FAREWELL, MY -GALLANT CAPTAIN kind of an individual in the light dragoons, the lth -hussars to be accurate and inflammable doubtless the fallen leader, -that is, not the other in his own peculiar way which she of course, -woman, quickly perceived as highly likely to carve his way to fame which -he almost bid fair to do till the priests and ministers of the gospel as -a whole, his erstwhile staunch adherents, and his beloved evicted tenants -for whom he had done yeoman service in the rural parts of the country by -taking up the cudgels on their behalf in a way that exceeded their most -sanguine expectations, very effectually cooked his matrimonial goose, -thereby heaping coals of fire on his head much in the same way as the -fabled ass's kick. Looking back now in a retrospective kind of -arrangement all seemed a kind of dream. And then coming back was the -worst thing you ever did because it went without saying you would feel -out of place as things always moved with the times. Why, as he reflected, -Irishtown strand, a locality he had not been in for quite a number of -years looked different somehow since, as it happened, he went to reside -on the north side. North or south, however, it was just the wellknown -case of hot passion, pure and simple, upsetting the applecart with a -vengeance and just bore out the very thing he was saying as she also was -Spanish or half so, types that wouldn't do things by halves, passionate -abandon of the south, casting every shred of decency to the winds. -Just bears out what I was saying, he, with glowing bosom said to -Stephen, about blood and the sun. And, if I don't greatly mistake she was -Spanish too. -The king of Spain's daughter, Stephen answered, adding something or -other rather muddled about farewell and adieu to you Spanish onions and -the first land called the Deadman and from Ramhead to Scilly was so and -so many. -Was she? Bloom ejaculated, surprised though not astonished by any -means, I never heard that rumour before. Possible, especially there, it -was as she lived there. So, Spain. -Carefully avoiding a book in his pocket SWEETS OF, which reminded him by -the by of that Cap l street library book out of date, he took out his -pocketbook and, turning over the various contents it contained rapidly -finally he. -Do you consider, by the by, he said, thoughtfully selecting a faded -photo which he laid on the table, that a Spanish type? -Stephen, obviously addressed, looked down on the photo showing a large -sized lady with her fleshy charms on evidence in an open fashion as she -was in the full bloom of womanhood in evening dress cut ostentatiously -low for the occasion to give a liberal display of bosom, with more than -vision of breasts, her full lips parted and some perfect teeth, standing -near, ostensibly with gravity, a piano on the rest of which was IN OLD -MADRID, a ballad, pretty in its way, which was then all the vogue. Her -the lady's eyes, dark, large, looked at Stephen, about to smile about -something to be admired, Lafayette of Westmoreland street, Dublin's -premier photographic artist, being responsible for the esthetic -execution. -Mrs Bloom, my wife the PRIMA DONNA Madam Marion Tweedy, Bloom -indicated. Taken a few years since. In or about ninety six. Very like her -then. -Beside the young man he looked also at the photo of the lady now his -legal wife who, he intimated, was the accomplished daughter of Major -Brian Tweedy and displayed at an early age remarkable proficiency as a -singer having even made her bow to the public when her years numbered -barely sweet sixteen. As for the face it was a speaking likeness in -expression but it did not do justice to her figure which came in for a -lot of notice usually and which did not come out to the best advantage in -that getup. She could without difficulty, he said, have posed for the -ensemble, not to dwell on certain opulent curves of the. He dwelt, being -a bit of an artist in his spare time, on the female form in general -developmentally because, as it so happened, no later than that afternoon -he had seen those Grecian statues, perfectly developed as works of -art, in the National Museum. Marble could give the original, shoulders, -back, all the symmetry, all the rest. Yes, puritanisme, it does though -Saint Joseph's sovereign thievery alors Bandez Figne toi trop. Whereas -no photo could because it simply wasn't art in a word. -The spirit moving him he would much have liked to follow Jack Tar's good -example and leave the likeness there for a very few minutes to speak for -itself on the plea he so that the other could drink in the beauty for -himself, her stage presence being, frankly, a treat in itself which the -camera could not at all do justice to. But it was scarcely professional -etiquette so. Though it was a warm pleasant sort of a night now yet -wonderfully cool for the season considering, for sunshine after storm. -And he did feel a kind of need there and then to follow suit like a kind -of inward voice and satisfy a possible need by moving a motion. -Nevertheless he sat tight just viewing the slightly soiled photo creased -by opulent curves, none the worse for wear however, and looked away -thoughtfully with the intention of not further increasing the other's -possible embarrassment while gauging her symmetry of heaving EMBONPOINT. -In fact the slight soiling was only an added charm like the case of linen -slightly soiled, good as new, much better in fact with the starch out. -Suppose she was gone when he? I looked for the lamp which she told me -came into his mind but merely as a passing fancy of his because he then -recollected the morning littered bed etcetera and the book about Ruby -with met him pike hoses SIC in it which must have fell down -sufficiently appropriately beside the domestic chamberpot with apologies -to Lindley Murray. -The vicinity of the young man he certainly relished, educated, DISTINGUE -and impulsive into the bargain, far and away the pick of the bunch though -you wouldn't think he had it in him yet you would. Besides he said the -picture was handsome which, say what you like, it was though at the -moment she was distinctly stouter. And why not? An awful lot of -makebelieve went on about that sort of thing involving a lifelong slur -with the usual splash page of gutterpress about the same old matrimonial -tangle alleging misconduct with professional golfer or the newest stage -favourite instead of being honest and aboveboard about the whole -business. How they were fated to meet and an attachment sprang up between -the two so that their names were coupled in the public eye was told in -court with letters containing the habitual mushy and compromising -expressions leaving no loophole to show that they openly cohabited two or -three times a week at some wellknown seaside hotel and relations, when -the thing ran its normal course, became in due course intimate. Then the -decree NISI and the King's proctor tries to show cause why and, he -failing to quash it, NISI was made absolute. But as for that the two -misdemeanants, wrapped up as they largely were in one another, could -safely afford to ignore it as they very largely did till the matter was -put in the hands of a solicitor who filed a petition for the party -wronged in due course. He, B, enjoyed the distinction of being close to -Erin's uncrowned king in the flesh when the thing occurred on the -historic FRACAS when the fallen leader's, who notoriously stuck to his -guns to the last drop even when clothed in the mantle of adultery, -leader's trusty henchmen to the number of ten or a dozen or possibly -even more than that penetrated into the printing works of the -INSUPPRESSIBLE or no it was UNITED IRELAND a by no means by the by -appropriate appellative and broke up the typecases with hammers or -something like that all on account of some scurrilous effusions from the -facile pens of the O'Brienite scribes at the usual mudslinging occupation -reflecting on the erstwhile tribune's private morals. Though palpably a -radically altered man he was still a commanding figure though carelessly -garbed as usual with that look of settled purpose which went a long way -with the shillyshallyers till they discovered to their vast discomfiture -that their idol had feet of clay after placing him upon a pedestal which -she, however, was the first to perceive. As those were particularly hot -times in the general hullaballoo Bloom sustained a minor injury from a -nasty prod of some chap's elbow in the crowd that of course congregated -lodging some place about the pit of the stomach, fortunately not of a -grave character. His hat Parnell's a silk one was inadvertently knocked -off and, as a matter of strict history, Bloom was the man who picked it -up in the crush after witnessing the occurrence meaning to return it to -him and return it to him he did with the utmost celerity who panting -and hatless and whose thoughts were miles away from his hat at the time -all the same being a gentleman born with a stake in the country he, as a -matter of fact, having gone into it more for the kudos of the thing than -anything else, what's bred in the bone instilled into him in infancy at -his mother's knee in the shape of knowing what good form was came out at -once because he turned round to the donor and thanked him with perfect -APLOMB, saying THANK YOU, SIR, though in a very different tone of voice -from the ornament of the legal profession whose headgear Bloom also set -to rights earlier in the course of the day, history repeating itself with -a difference, after the burial of a mutual friend when they had left him -alone in his glory after the grim task of having committed his remains to -the grave. -On the other hand what incensed him more inwardly was the blatant jokes -of the cabman and so on who passed it all off as a jest, laughing -immoderately, pretending to understand everything, the why and the -wherefore, and in reality not knowing their own minds, it being a case -for the two parties themselves unless it ensued that the legitimate -husband happened to be a party to it owing to some anonymous letter from -the usual boy Jones, who happened to come across them at the crucial -moment in a loving position locked in one another's arms, drawing -attention to their illicit proceedings and leading up to a domestic -rumpus and the erring fair one begging forgiveness of her lord and master -upon her knees and promising to sever the connection and not receive his -visits any more if only the aggrieved husband would overlook the matter -and let bygones be bygones with tears in her eyes though possibly with -her tongue in her fair cheek at the same time as quite possibly there -were several others. He personally, being of a sceptical bias, believed -and didn't make the smallest bones about saying so either that man or men -in the plural were always hanging around on the waiting list about a -lady, even supposing she was the best wife in the world and they got on -fairly well together for the sake of argument, when, neglecting her -duties, she chose to be tired of wedded life and was on for a little -flutter in polite debauchery to press their attentions on her with -improper intent, the upshot being that her affections centred on another, -the cause of many LIAISONS between still attractive married women getting -on for fair and forty and younger men, no doubt as several famous cases -of feminine infatuation proved up to the hilt. -It was a thousand pities a young fellow, blessed with an allowance of -brains as his neighbour obviously was, should waste his valuable time -with profligate women who might present him with a nice dose to last him -his lifetime. In the nature of single blessedness he would one day take -unto himself a wife when Miss Right came on the scene but in the interim -ladies' society was a CONDITIO SINE QUA NON though he had the gravest -possible doubts, not that he wanted in the smallest to pump Stephen about -Miss Ferguson who was very possibly the particular lodestar who brought -him down to Irishtown so early in the morning, as to whether he would -find much satisfaction basking in the boy and girl courtship idea and the -company of smirking misses without a penny to their names bi or triweekly -with the orthodox preliminary canter of complimentplaying and walking out -leading up to fond lovers' ways and flowers and chocs. To think of him -house and homeless, rooked by some landlady worse than any stepmother, -was really too bad at his age. The queer suddenly things he popped out -with attracted the elder man who was several years the other's senior or -like his father but something substantial he certainly ought to eat even -were it only an eggflip made on unadulterated maternal nutriment or, -failing that, the homely Humpty Dumpty boiled. -At what o'clock did you dine? he questioned of the slim form and tired -though unwrinkled face. -Some time yesterday, Stephen said. -Yesterday exclaimed Bloom till he remembered it was already tomorrow -Friday. Ah, you mean it's after twelve -The day before yesterday, Stephen said, improving on himself. -Literally astounded at this piece of intelligence Bloom reflected. Though -they didn't see eye to eye in everything a certain analogy there somehow -was as if both their minds were travelling, so to speak, in the one train -of thought. At his age when dabbling in politics roughly some score of -years previously when he had been a QUASI aspirant to parliamentary -honours in the Buckshot Foster days he too recollected in retrospect -which was a source of keen satisfaction in itself he had a sneaking -regard for those same ultra ideas. For instance when the evicted tenants -question, then at its first inception, bulked largely in people's mind -though, it goes without saying, not contributing a copper or pinning his -faith absolutely to its dictums, some of which wouldn't exactly hold -water, he at the outset in principle at all events was in thorough -sympathy with peasant possession as voicing the trend of modern opinion -a partiality, however, which, realising his mistake, he was subsequently -partially cured of and even was twitted with going a step farther than -Michael Davitt in the striking views he at one time inculcated as a -backtothelander, which was one reason he strongly resented the innuendo -put upon him in so barefaced a fashion by our friend at the gathering of -the clans in Barney Kiernan's so that he, though often considerably -misunderstood and the least pugnacious of mortals, be it repeated, -departed from his customary habit to give him metaphorically one in the -gizzard though, so far as politics themselves were concerned, he was only -too conscious of the casualties invariably resulting from propaganda and -displays of mutual animosity and the misery and suffering it entailed as -a foregone conclusion on fine young fellows, chiefly, destruction of the -fittest, in a word. -Anyhow upon weighing up the pros and cons, getting on for one, as it was, -it was high time to be retiring for the night. The crux was it was a bit -risky to bring him home as eventualities might possibly ensue somebody -having a temper of her own sometimes and spoil the hash altogether as on -the night he misguidedly brought home a dog breed unknown with a lame -paw not that the cases were either identical or the reverse though he -had hurt his hand too to Ontario Terrace as he very distinctly -remembered, having been there, so to speak. On the other hand it was -altogether far and away too late for the Sandymount or Sandycove -suggestion so that he was in some perplexity as to which of the two -alternatives. Everything pointed to the fact that it behoved him to avail -himself to the full of the opportunity, all things considered. His -initial impression was he was a shade standoffish or not over effusive -but it grew on him someway. For one thing he mightn't what you call jump -at the idea, if approached, and what mostly worried him was he didn't -know how to lead up to it or word it exactly, supposing he did entertain -the proposal, as it would afford him very great personal pleasure if he -would allow him to help to put coin in his way or some wardrobe, if found -suitable. At all events he wound up by concluding, eschewing for the -nonce hidebound precedent, a cup of Epps's cocoa and a shakedown for the -night plus the use of a rug or two and overcoat doubled into a pillow at -least he would be in safe hands and as warm as a toast on a trivet he -failed to perceive any very vast amount of harm in that always with the -proviso no rumpus of any sort was kicked up. A move had to be made -because that merry old soul, the grasswidower in question who appeared to -be glued to the spot, didn't appear in any particular hurry to wend his -way home to his dearly beloved Queenstown and it was highly likely some -sponger's bawdyhouse of retired beauties where age was no bar off Sheriff -street lower would be the best clue to that equivocal character's -whereabouts for a few days to come, alternately racking their feelings -the mermaids' with sixchamber revolver anecdotes verging on the -tropical calculated to freeze the marrow of anybody's bones and mauling -their largesized charms betweenwhiles with rough and tumble gusto to the -accompaniment of large potations of potheen and the usual blarney about -himself for as to who he in reality was let x equal my right name and -address, as Mr Algebra remarks PASSIM. At the same time he inwardly -chuckled over his gentle repartee to the blood and ouns champion about -his god being a jew. People could put up with being bitten by a wolf but -what properly riled them was a bite from a sheep. The most vulnerable -point too of tender Achilles. Your god was a jew. Because mostly they -appeared to imagine he came from CarrickonShannon or somewhereabouts in -the county Sligo. -I propose, our hero eventually suggested after mature reflection while -prudently pocketing her photo, as it's rather stuffy here you just come -home with me and talk things over. My diggings are quite close in the -vicinity. You can't drink that stuff. Do you like cocoa? Wait. I'll just -pay this lot. -The best plan clearly being to clear out, the remainder being plain -sailing, he beckoned, while prudently pocketing the photo, to the keeper -of the shanty who didn't seem to. -Yes, that's the best, he assured Stephen to whom for the matter of that -Brazen Head or him or anywhere else was all more or less. -All kinds of Utopian plans were flashing through his B's busy brain, -education the genuine article, literature, journalism, prize titbits, -up to date billing, concert tours in English watering resorts packed with -hydros and seaside theatres, turning money away, duets in Italian with -the accent perfectly true to nature and a quantity of other things, no -necessity, of course, to tell the world and his wife from the housetops -about it, and a slice of luck. An opening was all was wanted. Because he -more than suspected he had his father's voice to bank his hopes on which -it was quite on the cards he had so it would be just as well, by the way -no harm, to trail the conversation in the direction of that particular -red herring just to. -The cabby read out of the paper he had got hold of that the former -viceroy, earl Cadogan, had presided at the cabdrivers' association dinner -in London somewhere. Silence with a yawn or two accompanied this -thrilling announcement. Then the old specimen in the corner who appeared -to have some spark of vitality left read out that sir Anthony MacDonnell -had left Euston for the chief secretary's lodge or words to that effect. -To which absorbing piece of intelligence echo answered why. -Give us a squint at that literature, grandfather, the ancient mariner -put in, manifesting some natural impatience. -And welcome, answered the elderly party thus addressed. -The sailor lugged out from a case he had a pair of greenish goggles which -he very slowly hooked over his nose and both ears. -Are you bad in the eyes? the sympathetic personage like the townclerk -queried. -Why, answered the seafarer with the tartan beard, who seemingly was a -bit of a literary cove in his own small way, staring out of seagreen -portholes as you might well describe them as, I uses goggles reading. -Sand in the Red Sea done that. One time I could read a book in the dark, -manner of speaking. THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENT was my favourite and -RED AS A ROSE IS SHE. -Hereupon he pawed the journal open and pored upon Lord only knows what, -found drowned or the exploits of King Willow, Iremonger having made a -hundred and something second wicket not out for Notts, during which time -completely regardless of Ire the keeper was intensely occupied -loosening an apparently new or secondhand boot which manifestly pinched -him as he muttered against whoever it was sold it, all of them who were -sufficiently awake enough to be picked out by their facial expressions, -that is to say, either simply looking on glumly or passing a trivial -remark. -To cut a long story short Bloom, grasping the situation, was the first to -rise from his seat so as not to outstay their welcome having first and -foremost, being as good as his word that he would foot the bill for the -occasion, taken the wise precaution to unobtrusively motion to mine host -as a parting shot a scarcely perceptible sign when the others were not -looking to the effect that the amount due was forthcoming, making a grand -total of fourpence the amount he deposited unobtrusively in four -coppers, literally the last of the Mohicans, he having previously -spotted on the printed pricelist for all who ran to read opposite him in -unmistakable figures, coffee d, confectionery do, and honestly well -worth twice the money once in a way, as Wetherup used to remark. -Come, he counselled to close the SEANCE. -Seeing that the ruse worked and the coast was clear they left the shelter -or shanty together and the ELITE society of oilskin and company whom -nothing short of an earthquake would move out of their DOLCE FAR NIENTE. -Stephen, who confessed to still feeling poorly and fagged out, paused at -the, for a moment, the door. -One thing I never understood, he said to be original on the spur of the -moment. Why they put tables upside down at night, I mean chairs upside -down, on the tables in cafes. To which impromptu the neverfailing Bloom -replied without a moment's hesitation, saying straight off -To sweep the floor in the morning. -So saying he skipped around, nimbly considering, frankly at the same time -apologetic to get on his companion's right, a habit of his, by the bye, -his right side being, in classical idiom, his tender Achilles. The night -air was certainly now a treat to breathe though Stephen was a bit weak on -his pins. -It will the air do you good, Bloom said, meaning also the walk, in a -moment. The only thing is to walk then you'll feel a different man. Come. -It's not far. Lean on me. -Accordingly he passed his left arm in Stephen's right and led him on -accordingly. -Yes, Stephen said uncertainly because he thought he felt a strange kind -of flesh of a different man approach him, sinewless and wobbly and all -that. -Anyhow they passed the sentrybox with stones, brazier etc. where the -municipal supernumerary, ex Gumley, was still to all intents and purposes -wrapped in the arms of Murphy, as the adage has it, dreaming of fresh -fields and pastures new. And APROPOS of coffin of stones the analogy was -not at all bad as it was in fact a stoning to death on the part of -seventytwo out of eighty odd constituencies that ratted at the time of -the split and chiefly the belauded peasant class, probably the selfsame -evicted tenants he had put in their holdings. -So they turned on to chatting about music, a form of art for which Bloom, -as a pure amateur, possessed the greatest love, as they made tracks arm -in arm across Beresford place. Wagnerian music, though confessedly grand -in its way, was a bit too heavy for Bloom and hard to follow at the first -gooff but the music of Mercadante's HUGUENOTS, Meyerbeer's SEVEN LAST -WORDS ON THE CROSS and Mozart's TWELFTH MASS he simply revelled in, the -GLORIA in that being, to his mind, the acme of first class music as such, -literally knocking everything else into a cocked hat. He infinitely -preferred the sacred music of the catholic church to anything the -opposite shop could offer in that line such as those Moody and Sankey -hymns or BID ME TO LIVE AND I WILL LIVE THY PROTESTANT TO BE. He also -yielded to none in his admiration of Rossini's STABAT MATER, a work -simply abounding in immortal numbers, in which his wife, Madam Marion -Tweedy, made a hit, a veritable sensation, he might safely say, greatly -adding to her other laureis and putting the others totally in the shade, -in the jesuit fathers' church in upper Gardiner street, the sacred -edifice being thronged to the doors to hear her with virtuosos, or -VIRTUOSI rather. There was the unanimous opinion that there was none to -come up to her and suffice it to say in a place of worship for music of a -sacred character there was a generally voiced desire for an encore. On -the whole though favouring preferably light opera of the DON GIOVANNI -description and MARTHA, a gem in its line, he had a PENCHANT, though with -only a surface knowledge, for the severe classical school such as -Mendelssohn. And talking of that, taking it for granted he knew all about -the old favourites, he mentioned PAR EXCELLENCE Lionel's air in MARTHA, -M'APPARI, which, curiously enough, he had heard or overheard, to be more -accurate, on yesterday, a privilege he keenly appreciated, from the lips -of Stephen's respected father, sung to perfection, a study of the number, -in fact, which made all the others take a back seat. Stephen, in reply to -a politely put query, said he didn't sing it but launched out into -praises of Shakespeare's songs, at least of in or about that period, the -lutenist Dowland who lived in Fetter lane near Gerard the herbalist, who -ANNO LUDENDO HAUSI, DOULANDUS, an instrument he was contemplating -purchasing from Mr Arnold Dolmetsch, whom B. did not quite recall though -the name certainly sounded familiar, for sixtyfive guineas and Farnaby -and son with their DUX and COMES conceits and Byrd William who played -the virginals, he said, in the Queen's chapel or anywhere else he found -them and one Tomkins who made toys or airs and John Bull. -On the roadway which they were approaching whilst still speaking beyond -the swingchains a horse, dragging a sweeper, paced on the paven ground, -brushing a long swathe of mire up so that with the noise Bloom was not -perfectly certain whether he had caught aright the allusion to sixtyfive -guineas and John Bull. He inquired if it was John Bull the political -celebrity of that ilk, as it struck him, the two identical names, as a -striking coincidence. -By the chains the horse slowly swerved to turn, which perceiving, Bloom, -who was keeping a sharp lookout as usual, plucked the other's sleeve -gently, jocosely remarking -Our lives are in peril tonight. Beware of the steamroller. -They thereupon stopped. Bloom looked at the head of a horse not worth -anything like sixtyfive guineas, suddenly in evidence in the dark quite -near so that it seemed new, a different grouping of bones and even flesh -because palpably it was a fourwalker, a hipshaker, a blackbuttocker, a -taildangler, a headhanger putting his hind foot foremost the while the -lord of his creation sat on the perch, busy with his thoughts. But such a -good poor brute he was sorry he hadn't a lump of sugar but, as he wisely -reflected, you could scarcely be prepared for every emergency that might -crop up. He was just a big nervous foolish noodly kind of a horse, -without a second care in the world. But even a dog, he reflected, take -that mongrel in Barney Kiernan's, of the same size, would be a holy -horror to face. But it was no animal's fault in particular if he was -built that way like the camel, ship of the desert, distilling grapes into -potheen in his hump. Nine tenths of them all could be caged or trained, -nothing beyond the art of man barring the bees. Whale with a harpoon -hairpin, alligator tickle the small of his back and he sees the joke, -chalk a circle for a rooster, tiger my eagle eye. These timely -reflections anent the brutes of the field occupied his mind somewhat -distracted from Stephen's words while the ship of the street was -manoeuvring and Stephen went on about the highly interesting old. -What's this I was saying? Ah, yes My wife, he intimated, plunging IN -MEDIAS RES, would have the greatest of pleasure in making your -acquaintance as she is passionately attached to music of any kind. -He looked sideways in a friendly fashion at the sideface of Stephen, -image of his mother, which was not quite the same as the usual handsome -blackguard type they unquestionably had an insatiable hankering after as -he was perhaps not that way built. -Still, supposing he had his father's gift as he more than suspected, it -opened up new vistas in his mind such as Lady Fingall's Irish industries, -concert on the preceding Monday, and aristocracy in general. -Exquisite variations he was now describing on an air YOUTH HERE HAS END -by Jans Pieter Sweelinck, a Dutchman of Amsterdam where the frows come -from. Even more he liked an old German song of JOHANNES JEEP about the -clear sea and the voices of sirens, sweet murderers of men, which boggled -Bloom a bit -VON DER SIRENEN LISTIGKEIT -TUN DIE POETEN DICHTEN. -These opening bars he sang and translated EXTEMPORE. Bloom, nodding, said -he perfectly understood and begged him to go on by all means which he -did. -A phenomenally beautiful tenor voice like that, the rarest of boons, -which Bloom appreciated at the very first note he got out, could easily, -if properly handled by some recognised authority on voice production such -as Barraclough and being able to read music into the bargain, command its -own price where baritones were ten a penny and procure for its fortunate -possessor in the near future an ENTREE into fashionable houses in the -best residential quarters of financial magnates in a large way of -business and titled people where with his university degree of B. A. a -huge ad in its way and gentlemanly bearing to all the more influence the -good impression he would infallibly score a distinct success, being -blessed with brains which also could be utilised for the purpose and -other requisites, if his clothes were properly attended to so as to the -better worm his way into their good graces as he, a youthful tyro in -society's sartorial niceties, hardly understood how a little thing like -that could militate against you. It was in fact only a matter of months -and he could easily foresee him participating in their musical and -artistic CONVERSAZIONES during the festivities of the Christmas season, -for choice, causing a slight flutter in the dovecotes of the fair sex and -being made a lot of by ladies out for sensation, cases of which, as he -happened to know, were on recordin fact, without giving the show away, -he himself once upon a time, if he cared to, could easily have. Added to -which of course would be the pecuniary emolument by no means to be -sneezed at, going hand in hand with his tuition fees. Not, he -parenthesised, that for the sake of filthy lucre he need necessarily -embrace the lyric platform as a walk in life for any lengthy space of -time. But a step in the required direction it was beyond yea or nay and -both monetarily and mentally it contained no reflection on his dignity in -the smallest and it often turned in uncommonly handy to be handed a -cheque at a muchneeded moment when every little helped. Besides, though -taste latterly had deteriorated to a degree, original music like that, -different from the conventional rut, would rapidly have a great vogue as -it would be a decided novelty for Dublin's musical world after the usual -hackneyed run of catchy tenor solos foisted on a confiding public by Ivan -St Austell and Hilton St Just and their GENUS OMNE. Yes, beyond a shadow -of a doubt he could with all the cards in his hand and he had a capital -opening to make a name for himself and win a high place in the city's -esteem where he could command a stiff figure and, booking ahead, give a -grand concert for the patrons of the King street house, given a backerup, -if one were forthcoming to kick him upstairs, so to speak, a big IF, -however, with some impetus of the goahead sort to obviate the inevitable -procrastination which often tripped up a too much feted prince of good -fellows. And it need not detract from the other by one iota as, being his -own master, he would have heaps of time to practise literature in his -spare moments when desirous of so doing without its clashing with his -vocal career or containing anything derogatory whatsoever as it was a -matter for himself alone. In fact, he had the ball at his feet and that -was the very reason why the other, possessed of a remarkably sharp nose -for smelling a rat of any sort, hung on to him at all. -The horse was just then. And later on at a propitious opportunity he -purposed Bloom did, without anyway prying into his private affairs on -the FOOLS STEP IN WHERE ANGELS principle, advising him to sever his -connection with a certain budding practitioner who, he noticed, was prone -to disparage and even to a slight extent with some hilarious pretext when -not present, deprecate him, or whatever you like to call it which in -Bloom's humble opinion threw a nasty sidelight on that side of a person's -character, no pun intended. -The horse having reached the end of his tether, so to speak, halted and, -rearing high a proud feathering tail, added his quota by letting fall on -the floor which the brush would soon brush up and polish, three smoking -globes of turds. Slowly three times, one after another, from a full -crupper he mired. And humanely his driver waited till he or she had -ended, patient in his scythed car. -Side by side Bloom, profiting by the CONTRETEMPS, with Stephen passed -through the gap of the chains, divided by the upright, and, stepping over -a strand of mire, went across towards Gardiner street lower, Stephen -singing more boldly, but not loudly, the end of the ballad. -UND ALLE SCHIFFE BRUCKEN. -The driver never said a word, good, bad or indifferent, but merely -watched the two figures, as he sat on his lowbacked car, both black, one -full, one lean, walk towards the railway bridge, TO BE MARRIED BY FATHER -MAHER. As they walked they at times stopped and walked again continuing -their TETEATETE which, of course, he was utterly out of about sirens -enemies of man's reason, mingled with a number of other topics of the -same category, usurpers, historical cases of the kind while the man in -the sweeper car or you might as well call it in the sleeper car who in -any case couldn't possibly hear because they were too far simply sat in -his seat near the end of lower Gardiner street AND LOOKED AFTER THEIR -LOWBACKED CAR. -What parallel courses did Bloom and Stephen follow returning? -Starting united both at normal walking pace from Beresford place they -followed in the order named Lower and Middle Gardiner streets and -Mountjoy square, west then, at reduced pace, each bearing left, -Gardiner's place by an inadvertence as far as the farther corner of -Temple street then, at reduced pace with interruptions of halt, bearing -right, Temple street, north, as far as Hardwicke place. Approaching, -disparate, at relaxed walking pace they crossed both the circus before -George's church diametrically, the chord in any circle being less than -the arc which it subtends. -Of what did the duumvirate deliberate during their itinerary? -Music, literature, Ireland, Dublin, Paris, friendship, woman, -prostitution, diet, the influence of gaslight or the light of arc and -glowlamps on the growth of adjoining paraheliotropic trees, exposed -corporation emergency dustbuckets, the Roman catholic church, -ecclesiastical celibacy, the Irish nation, jesuit education, careers, the -study of medicine, the past day, the maleficent influence of the -presabbath, Stephen's collapse. -Did Bloom discover common factors of similarity between their respective -like and unlike reactions to experience? -Both were sensitive to artistic impressions, musical in preference to -plastic or pictorial. Both preferred a continental to an insular manner -of life, a cisatlantic to a transatlantic place of residence. Both -indurated by early domestic training and an inherited tenacity of -heterodox resistance professed their disbelief in many orthodox -religious, national, social and ethical doctrines. Both admitted the -alternately stimulating and obtunding influence of heterosexual -magnetism. -Were their views on some points divergent? -Stephen dissented openly from Bloom's views on the importance of dietary -and civic selfhelp while Bloom dissented tacitly from Stephen's views on -the eternal affirmation of the spirit of man in literature. Bloom -assented covertly to Stephen's rectification of the anachronism involved -in assigning the date of the conversion of the Irish nation to -christianity from druidism by Patrick son of Calpornus, son of Potitus, -son of Odyssus, sent by pope Celestine I in the year in the reign of -Leary to the year or thereabouts in the reign of Cormac MacArt died - A.D., suffocated by imperfect deglutition of aliment at Sletty and -interred at Rossnaree. The collapse which Bloom ascribed to gastric -inanition and certain chemical compounds of varying degrees of -adulteration and alcoholic strength, accelerated by mental exertion and -the velocity of rapid circular motion in a relaxing atmosphere, Stephen -attributed to the reapparition of a matutinal cloud perceived by both -from two different points of observation Sandycove and Dublin at first -no bigger than a woman's hand. -Was there one point on which their views were equal and negative? -The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of adjoining -paraheliotropic trees. -Had Bloom discussed similar subjects during nocturnal perambulations in -the past? -In with Owen Goldberg and Cecil Turnbull at night on public -thoroughfares between Longwood avenue and Leonard's corner and Leonard's -corner and Synge street and Synge street and Bloomfield avenue. -In with Percy Apjohn in the evenings, reclined against the wall -between Gibraltar villa and Bloomfield house in Crumlin, barony of -Uppercross. In occasionally with casual acquaintances and -prospective purchasers on doorsteps, in front parlours, in third class -railway carriages of suburban lines. In frequently with major Brian -Tweedy and his daughter Miss Marion Tweedy, together and separately on -the lounge in Matthew Dillon's house in Roundtown. Once in and once -in with Julius Juda Mastiansky, on both occasions in the parlour -of his Bloom's house in Lombard street, west. -What reflection concerning the irregular sequence of dates , , -, , , , did Bloom make before their arrival at their -destination? -He reflected that the progressive extension of the field of individual -development and experience was regressively accompanied by a restriction -of the converse domain of interindividual relations. -As in what ways? -From inexistence to existence he came to many and was as one received -existence with existence he was with any as any with any from existence -to nonexistence gone he would be by all as none perceived. -What act did Bloom make on their arrival at their destination? -At the housesteps of the th Of the equidifferent uneven numbers, number - Eccles street, he inserted his hand mechanically into the back pocket -of his trousers to obtain his latchkey. -Was it there? -It was in the corresponding pocket of the trousers which he had worn on -the day but one preceding. -Why was he doubly irritated? -Because he had forgotten and because he remembered that he had reminded -himself twice not to forget. -What were then the alternatives before the, premeditatedly respectively -and inadvertently, keyless couple? -To enter or not to enter. To knock or not to knock. -Bloom's decision? -A stratagem. Resting his feet on the dwarf wall, he climbed over the area -railings, compressed his hat on his head, grasped two points at the lower -union of rails and stiles, lowered his body gradually by its length of -five feet nine inches and a half to within two feet ten inches of the -area pavement and allowed his body to move freely in space by separating -himself from the railings and crouching in preparation for the impact of -the fall. -Did he fall? -By his body's known weight of eleven stone and four pounds in avoirdupois -measure, as certified by the graduated machine for periodical -selfweighing in the premises of Francis Froedman, pharmaceutical chemist -of Frederick street, north, on the last feast of the Ascension, to -wit, the twelfth day of May of the bissextile year one thousand nine -hundred and four of the christian era jewish era five thousand six -hundred and sixtyfour, mohammadan era one thousand three hundred and -twentytwo, golden number , epact , solar cycle , dominical letters C -B, Roman indiction , Julian period , MCMIV. -Did he rise uninjured by concussion? -Regaining new stable equilibrium he rose uninjured though concussed by -the impact, raised the latch of the area door by the exertion of force at -its freely moving flange and by leverage of the first kind applied at its -fulcrum, gained retarded access to the kitchen through the subadjacent -scullery, ignited a lucifer match by friction, set free inflammable coal -gas by turningon the ventcock, lit a high flame which, by regulating, he -reduced to quiescent candescence and lit finally a portable candle. -What discrete succession of images did Stephen meanwhile perceive? -Reclined against the area railings he perceived through the transparent -kitchen panes a man regulating a gasflame of CP, a man lighting a -candle of CP, a man removing in turn each of his two boots, a man -leaving the kitchen holding a candle. -Did the man reappear elsewhere? -After a lapse of four minutes the glimmer of his candle was discernible -through the semitransparent semicircular glass fanlight over the -halldoor. The halldoor turned gradually on its hinges. In the open space -of the doorway the man reappeared without his hat, with his candle. -Did Stephen obey his sign? -Yes, entering softly, he helped to close and chain the door and followed -softly along the hallway the man's back and listed feet and lighted -candle past a lighted crevice of doorway on the left and carefully down a -turning staircase of more than five steps into the kitchen of Bloom's -house. -What did Bloom do? -He extinguished the candle by a sharp expiration of breath upon its -flame, drew two spoonseat deal chairs to the hearthstone, one for Stephen -with its back to the area window, the other for himself when necessary, -knelt on one knee, composed in the grate a pyre of crosslaid resintipped -sticks and various coloured papers and irregular polygons of best Abram -coal at twentyone shillings a ton from the yard of Messrs Flower and -M'Donald of D'Olier street, kindled it at three projecting points of -paper with one ignited lucifer match, thereby releasing the potential -energy contained in the fuel by allowing its carbon and hydrogen elements -to enter into free union with the oxygen of the air. -Of what similar apparitions did Stephen think? -Of others elsewhere in other times who, kneeling on one knee or on two, -had kindled fires for him, of Brother Michael in the infirmary of the -college of the Society of Jesus at Clongowes Wood, Sallins, in the county -of Kildare of his father, Simon Dedalus, in an unfurnished room of his -first residence in Dublin, number thirteen Fitzgibbon street of his -godmother Miss Kate Morkan in the house of her dying sister Miss Julia -Morkan at Usher's Island of his aunt Sara, wife of Richie Richard -Goulding, in the kitchen of their lodgings at Clanbrassil street of -his mother Mary, wife of Simon Dedalus, in the kitchen of number twelve -North Richmond street on the morning of the feast of Saint Francis Xavier - of the dean of studies, Father Butt, in the physics' theatre of -university College, Stephen's Green, north of his sister Dilly -Delia in his father's house in Cabra. -What did Stephen see on raising his gaze to the height of a yard from the -fire towards the opposite wall? -Under a row of five coiled spring housebells a curvilinear rope, -stretched between two holdfasts athwart across the recess beside the -chimney pier, from which hung four smallsized square handkerchiefs folded -unattached consecutively in adjacent rectangles and one pair of ladies' -grey hose with Lisle suspender tops and feet in their habitual position -clamped by three erect wooden pegs two at their outer extremities and the -third at their point of junction. -What did Bloom see on the range? -On the right smaller hob a blue enamelled saucepan on the left -larger hob a black iron kettle. -What did Bloom do at the range? -He removed the saucepan to the left hob, rose and carried the iron kettle -to the sink in order to tap the current by turning the faucet to let it -flow. -Did it flow? -Yes. From Roundwood reservoir in county Wicklow of a cubic capacity of - million gallons, percolating through a subterranean aqueduct of -filter mains of single and double pipeage constructed at an initial plant -cost of pounds per linear yard by way of the Dargle, Rathdown, Glen of -the Downs and Callowhill to the acre reservoir at Stillorgan, a -distance of statute miles, and thence, through a system of relieving -tanks, by a gradient of feet to the city boundary at Eustace bridge, -upper Leeson street, though from prolonged summer drouth and daily supply -of / million gallons the water had fallen below the sill of the -overflow weir for which reason the borough surveyor and waterworks -engineer, Mr Spencer Harty, C. E., on the instructions of the waterworks -committee had prohibited the use of municipal water for purposes other -than those of consumption envisaging the possibility of recourse being -had to the impotable water of the Grand and Royal canals as in -particularly as the South Dublin Guardians, notwithstanding their ration -of gallons per day per pauper supplied through a inch meter, had -been convicted of a wastage of , gallons per night by a reading of -their meter on the affirmation of the law agent of the corporation, Mr -Ignatius Rice, solicitor, thereby acting to the detriment of another -section of the public, selfsupporting taxpayers, solvent, sound. -What in water did Bloom, waterlover, drawer of water, watercarrier, -returning to the range, admire? -Its universality its democratic equality and constancy to its nature in -seeking its own level its vastness in the ocean of Mercator's -projection its unplumbed profundity in the Sundam trench of the Pacific -exceeding fathoms the restlessness of its waves and surface -particles visiting in turn all points of its seaboard the independence -of its units the variability of states of sea its hydrostatic -quiescence in calm its hydrokinetic turgidity in neap and spring tides -its subsidence after devastation its sterility in the circumpolar -icecaps, arctic and antarctic its climatic and commercial significance -its preponderance of to over the dry land of the globe its -indisputable hegemony extending in square leagues over all the region -below the subequatorial tropic of Capricorn the multisecular stability -of its primeval basin its luteofulvous bed its capacity to dissolve and -hold in solution all soluble substances including millions of tons of the -most precious metals its slow erosions of peninsulas and islands, its -persistent formation of homothetic islands, peninsulas and -downwardtending promontories its alluvial deposits its weight and -volume and density its imperturbability in lagoons and highland tarns -its gradation of colours in the torrid and temperate and frigid zones -its vehicular ramifications in continental lakecontained streams and -confluent oceanflowing rivers with their tributaries and transoceanic -currents, gulfstream, north and south equatorial courses its violence in -seaquakes, waterspouts, Artesian wells, eruptions, torrents, eddies, -freshets, spates, groundswells, watersheds, waterpartings, geysers, -cataracts, whirlpools, maelstroms, inundations, deluges, cloudbursts its -vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve its secrecy in springs and -latent humidity, revealed by rhabdomantic or hygrometric instruments and -exemplified by the well by the hole in the wall at Ashtown gate, -saturation of air, distillation of dew the simplicity of its -composition, two constituent parts of hydrogen with one constituent part -of oxygen its healing virtues its buoyancy in the waters of the Dead -Sea its persevering penetrativeness in runnels, gullies, inadequate -dams, leaks on shipboard its properties for cleansing, quenching thirst -and fire, nourishing vegetation its infallibility as paradigm and -paragon its metamorphoses as vapour, mist, cloud, rain, sleet, snow, -hail its strength in rigid hydrants its variety of forms in loughs and -bays and gulfs and bights and guts and lagoons and atolls and -archipelagos and sounds and fjords and minches and tidal estuaries and -arms of sea its solidity in glaciers, icebergs, icefloes its docility -in working hydraulic millwheels, turbines, dynamos, electric power -stations, bleachworks, tanneries, scutchmills its utility in canals, -rivers, if navigable, floating and graving docks its potentiality -derivable from harnessed tides or watercourses falling from level to -level its submarine fauna and flora anacoustic, photophobe, -numerically, if not literally, the inhabitants of the globe its ubiquity -as constituting percent of the human body the noxiousness of its -effluvia in lacustrine marshes, pestilential fens, faded flowerwater, -stagnant pools in the waning moon. -Having set the halffilled kettle on the now burning coals, why did he -return to the stillflowing tap? -To wash his soiled hands with a partially consumed tablet of Barrington's -lemonflavoured soap, to which paper still adhered, bought thirteen hours -previously for fourpence and still unpaid for, in fresh cold -neverchanging everchanging water and dry them, face and hands, in a long -redbordered holland cloth passed over a wooden revolving roller. -What reason did Stephen give for declining Bloom's offer? -That he was hydrophobe, hating partial contact by immersion or total by -submersion in cold water, his last bath having taken place in the month -of October of the preceding year, disliking the aqueous substances of -glass and crystal, distrusting aquacities of thought and language. -What impeded Bloom from giving Stephen counsels of hygiene and -prophylactic to which should be added suggestions concerning a -preliminary wetting of the head and contraction of the muscles with rapid -splashing of the face and neck and thoracic and epigastric region in case -of sea or river bathing, the parts of the human anatomy most sensitive to -cold being the nape, stomach and thenar or sole of foot? -The incompatibility of aquacity with the erratic originality of genius. -What additional didactic counsels did he similarly repress? -Dietary concerning the respective percentage of protein and caloric -energy in bacon, salt ling and butter, the absence of the former in the -lastnamed and the abundance of the latter in the firstnamed. -Which seemed to the host to be the predominant qualities of his guest? -Confidence in himself, an equal and opposite power of abandonment and -recuperation. -What concomitant phenomenon took place in the vessel of liquid by the -agency of fire? -The phenomenon of ebullition. Fanned by a constant updraught of -ventilation between the kitchen and the chimneyflue, ignition was -communicated from the faggots of precombustible fuel to polyhedral masses -of bituminous coal, containing in compressed mineral form the foliated -fossilised decidua of primeval forests which had in turn derived their -vegetative existence from the sun, primal source of heat radiant, -transmitted through omnipresent luminiferous diathermanous ether. Heat -convected, a mode of motion developed by such combustion, was -constantly and increasingly conveyed from the source of calorification to -the liquid contained in the vessel, being radiated through the uneven -unpolished dark surface of the metal iron, in part reflected, in part -absorbed, in part transmitted, gradually raising the temperature of the -water from normal to boiling point, a rise in temperature expressible as -the result of an expenditure of thermal units needed to raise pound -of water from degrees to degrees Fahrenheit. -What announced the accomplishment of this rise in temperature? -A double falciform ejection of water vapour from under the kettlelid at -both sides simultaneously. -For what personal purpose could Bloom have applied the water so boiled? -To shave himself. -What advantages attended shaving by night? -A softer beard a softer brush if intentionally allowed to remain from -shave to shave in its agglutinated lather a softer skin if unexpectedly -encountering female acquaintances in remote places at incustomary hours -quiet reflections upon the course of the day a cleaner sensation when -awaking after a fresher sleep since matutinal noises, premonitions and -perturbations, a clattered milkcan, a postman's double knock, a paper -read, reread while lathering, relathering the same spot, a shock, a -shoot, with thought of aught he sought though fraught with nought might -cause a faster rate of shaving and a nick on which incision plaster with -precision cut and humected and applied adhered which was to be done. -Why did absence of light disturb him less than presence of noise? -Because of the surety of the sense of touch in his firm full masculine -feminine passive active hand. -What quality did it his hand possess but with what counteracting -influence? -The operative surgical quality but that he was reluctant to shed human -blood even when the end justified the means, preferring, in their natural -order, heliotherapy, psychophysicotherapeutics, osteopathic surgery. -What lay under exposure on the lower, middle and upper shelves of the -kitchen dresser, opened by Bloom? -On the lower shelf five vertical breakfast plates, six horizontal -breakfast saucers on which rested inverted breakfast cups, a -moustachecup, uninverted, and saucer of Crown Derby, four white -goldrimmed eggcups, an open shammy purse displaying coins, mostly copper, -and a phial of aromatic violet comfits. On the middle shelf a chipped -eggcup containing pepper, a drum of table salt, four conglomerated black -olives in oleaginous paper, an empty pot of Plumtree's potted meat, an -oval wicker basket bedded with fibre and containing one Jersey pear, a -halfempty bottle of William Gilbey and Co's white invalid port, half -disrobed of its swathe of coralpink tissue paper, a packet of Epps's -soluble cocoa, five ounces of Anne Lynch's choice tea at / per lb in a -crinkled leadpaper bag, a cylindrical canister containing the best -crystallised lump sugar, two onions, one, the larger, Spanish, entire, -the other, smaller, Irish, bisected with augmented surface and more -redolent, a jar of Irish Model Dairy's cream, a jug of brown crockery -containing a naggin and a quarter of soured adulterated milk, converted -by heat into water, acidulous serum and semisolidified curds, which added -to the quantity subtracted for Mr Bloom's and Mrs Fleming's breakfasts, -made one imperial pint, the total quantity originally delivered, two -cloves, a halfpenny and a small dish containing a slice of fresh -ribsteak. On the upper shelf a battery of jamjars empty of various -sizes and proveniences. -What attracted his attention lying on the apron of the dresser? -Four polygonal fragments of two lacerated scarlet betting tickets, -numbered , . -What reminiscences temporarily corrugated his brow? -Reminiscences of coincidences, truth stranger than fiction, preindicative -of the result of the Gold Cup flat handicap, the official and definitive -result of which he had read in the EVENING TELEGRAPH, late pink edition, -in the cabman's shelter, at Butt bridge. -Where had previous intimations of the result, effected or projected, been -received by him? -In Bernard Kiernan's licensed premises , and little Britain street -in David Byrne's licensed premises, Duke street in O'Connell street -lower, outside Graham Lemon's when a dark man had placed in his hand a -throwaway subsequently thrown away, advertising Elijah, restorer of the -church in Zion in Lincoln place outside the premises of F. W. Sweny and -Co Limited, dispensing chemists, when, when Frederick M. Bantam Lyons -had rapidly and successively requested, perused and restituted the copy -of the current issue of the FREEMAN'S JOURNAL AND NATIONAL PRESS which he -had been about to throw away subsequently thrown away, he had proceeded -towards the oriental edifice of the Turkish and Warm Baths, Leinster -street, with the light of inspiration shining in his countenance and -bearing in his arms the secret of the race, graven in the language of -prediction. -What qualifying considerations allayed his perturbations? -The difficulties of interpretation since the significance of any event -followed its occurrence as variably as the acoustic report followed the -electrical discharge and of counterestimating against an actual loss by -failure to interpret the total sum of possible losses proceeding -originally from a successful interpretation. -His mood? -He had not risked, he did not expect, he had not been disappointed, he -was satisfied. -What satisfied him? -To have sustained no positive loss. To have brought a positive gain to -others. Light to the gentiles. -How did Bloom prepare a collation for a gentile? -He poured into two teacups two level spoonfuls, four in all, of Epps's -soluble cocoa and proceeded according to the directions for use printed -on the label, to each adding after sufficient time for infusion the -prescribed ingredients for diffusion in the manner and in the quantity -prescribed. -What supererogatory marks of special hospitality did the host show his -guest? -Relinquishing his symposiarchal right to the moustache cup of imitation -Crown Derby presented to him by his only daughter, Millicent Milly, he -substituted a cup identical with that of his guest and served -extraordinarily to his guest and, in reduced measure, to himself the -viscous cream ordinarily reserved for the breakfast of his wife Marion -Molly. -Was the guest conscious of and did he acknowledge these marks of -hospitality? -His attention was directed to them by his host jocosely, and he accepted -them seriously as they drank in jocoserious silence Epps's massproduct, -the creature cocoa. -Were there marks of hospitality which he contemplated but suppressed, -reserving them for another and for himself on future occasions to -complete the act begun? -The reparation of a fissure of the length of / inches in the right -side of his guest's jacket. A gift to his guest of one of the four lady's -handkerchiefs, if and when ascertained to be in a presentable condition. -Who drank more quickly? -Bloom, having the advantage of ten seconds at the initiation and taking, -from the concave surface of a spoon along the handle of which a steady -flow of heat was conducted, three sips to his opponent's one, six to two, -nine to three. -What cerebration accompanied his frequentative act? -Concluding by inspection but erroneously that his silent companion was -engaged in mental composition he reflected on the pleasures derived from -literature of instruction rather than of amusement as he himself had -applied to the works of William Shakespeare more than once for the -solution of difficult problems in imaginary or real life. -Had he found their solution? -In spite of careful and repeated reading of certain classical passages, -aided by a glossary, he had derived imperfect conviction from the text, -the answers not bearing in all points. -What lines concluded his first piece of original verse written by him, -potential poet, at the age of in on the occasion of the offering -of three prizes of /, / and / respectively for competition by the -SHAMROCK, a weekly newspaper? -AN AMBITION TO SQUINT -AT MY VERSES IN PRINT -MAKES ME HOPE THAT FOR THESE YOU'LL FIND ROOM. -IF YOU SO CONDESCEND -THEN PLEASE PLACE AT THE END -THE NAME OF YOURS TRULY, L. BLOOM. -Did he find four separating forces between his temporary guest and him? -Name, age, race, creed. -What anagrams had he made on his name in youth? -Leopold Bloom -Ellpodbomool -Molldopeloob -Bollopedoom -Old Ollebo, M. P. -What acrostic upon the abbreviation of his first name had he kinetic -poet sent to Miss Marion Molly Tweedy on the February ? -POETS OFT HAVE SUNG IN RHYME -OF MUSIC SWEET THEIR PRAISE DIVINE. -LET THEM HYMN IT NINE TIMES NINE. -DEARER FAR THAN SONG OR WINE. -YOU ARE MINE. THE WORLD IS MINE. -What had prevented him from completing a topical song music by R. G. -Johnston on the events of the past, or fixtures for the actual, years, -entitled IF BRIAN BORU COULD BUT COME BACK AND SEE OLD DUBLIN NOW, -commissioned by Michael Gunn, lessee of the Gaiety Theatre, , , , - South King street, and to be introduced into the sixth scene, the -valley of diamonds, of the second edition January of the grand -annual Christmas pantomime SINBAD THE SAILOR produced by R Shelton -December , written by Greenleaf Whittier, scenery by George A. -Jackson and Cecil Hicks, costumes by Mrs and Miss Whelan under the -personal supervision of Mrs Michael Gunn, ballets by Jessie Noir, -harlequinade by Thomas Otto and sung by Nelly Bouverist, principal girl? -Firstly, oscillation between events of imperial and of local interest, -the anticipated diamond jubilee of Queen Victoria born , acceded - and the posticipated opening of the new municipal fish market -secondly, apprehension of opposition from extreme circles on the -questions of the respective visits of Their Royal Highnesses the duke and -duchess of York real and of His Majesty King Brian Boru imaginary -thirdly, a conflict between professional etiquette and professional -emulation concerning the recent erections of the Grand Lyric Hall on -Burgh Quay and the Theatre Royal in Hawkins street fourthly, distraction -resultant from compassion for Nelly Bouverist's nonintellectual, non -political, nontopical expression of countenance and concupiscence caused -by Nelly Bouverist's revelations of white articles of nonintellectual, -nonpolitical, nontopical underclothing while she Nelly Bouverist was -in the articles fifthly, the difficulties of the selection of -appropriate music and humorous allusions from EVERYBODY'S BOOK OF JOKES - pages and a laugh in every one sixthly, the rhymes, homophonous -and cacophonous, associated with the names of the new lord mayor, Daniel -Tallon, the new high sheriff, Thomas Pile and the new solicitorgeneral, -Dunbar Plunket Barton. -What relation existed between their ages? - years before in when Bloom was of Stephen's present age Stephen -was . years after in when Stephen would be of Bloom's present -age Bloom would be . In when Bloom would be and Stephen -their ages initially in the ratio of to would be as / to -/, the proportion increasing and the disparity diminishing according as -arbitrary future years were added, for if the proportion existing in -had continued immutable, conceiving that to be possible, till then -when Stephen was Bloom would be and in when Stephen would be -, as Bloom then was, Bloom would be while in when Stephen -would have attained the maximum postdiluvian age of Bloom, being -years alive having been born in the year , would have surpassed by -years the maximum antediluvian age, that of Methusalah, years, while, -if Stephen would continue to live until he would attain that age in the -year A.D., Bloomwould have been obliged to have been alive , -years, having been obliged to have been born in the year , B.C. -What events might nullify these calculations? -The cessation of existence of both or either, the inauguration of a new -era or calendar, the annihilation of the world and consequent -extermination of the human species, inevitable but impredictable. -How many previous encounters proved their preexisting acquaintance? -Two. The first in the lilacgarden of Matthew Dillon's house, Medina -Villa, Kimmage road, Roundtown, in , in the company of Stephen's -mother, Stephen being then of the age of and reluctant to give his hand -in salutation. The second in the coffeeroom of Breslin's hotel on a rainy -Sunday in the January of , in the company of Stephen's father and -Stephen's granduncle, Stephen being then years older. -Did Bloom accept the invitation to dinner given then by the son and -afterwards seconded by the father? -Very gratefully, with grateful appreciation, with sincere appreciative -gratitude, in appreciatively grateful sincerity of regret, he declined. -Did their conversation on the subject of these reminiscences reveal a -third connecting link between them? -Mrs Riordan Dante, a widow of independent means, had resided in the -house of Stephen's parents from September to December and -had also resided during the years , and in the City Arms -Hotel owned by Elizabeth O'Dowd of Prussia street where, during parts -of the years and , she had been a constant informant of Bloom -who resided also in the same hotel, being at that time a clerk in the -employment of Joseph Cuffe of Smithfield for the superintendence of -sales in the adjacent Dublin Cattle market on the North Circular road. -Had he performed any special corporal work of mercy for her? -He had sometimes propelled her on warm summer evenings, an infirm widow -of independent, if limited, means, in her convalescent bathchair with -slow revolutions of its wheels as far as the corner of the North Circular -road opposite Mr Gavin Low's place of business where she had remained for -a certain time scanning through his onelensed binocular fieldglasses -unrecognisable citizens on tramcars, roadster bicycles equipped with -inflated pneumatic tyres, hackney carriages, tandems, private and hired -landaus, dogcarts, ponytraps and brakes passing from the city to the -Phoenix Park and vice versa. -Why could he then support that his vigil with the greater equanimity? -Because in middle youth he had often sat observing through a rondel of -bossed glass of a multicoloured pane the spectacle offered with continual -changes of the thoroughfare without, pedestrians, quadrupeds, -velocipedes, vehicles, passing slowly, quickly, evenly, round and round -and round the rim of a round and round precipitous globe. -What distinct different memories had each of her now eight years -deceased? -The older, her bezique cards and counters, her Skye terrier, her -suppositious wealth, her lapses of responsiveness and incipient catarrhal -deafness the younger, her lamp of colza oil before the statue of the -Immaculate Conception, her green and maroon brushes for Charles Stewart -Parnell and for Michael Davitt, her tissue papers. -Were there no means still remaining to him to achieve the rejuvenation -which these reminiscences divulged to a younger companion rendered the -more desirable? -The indoor exercises, formerly intermittently practised, subsequently -abandoned, prescribed in Eugen Sandow's PHYSICAL STRENGTH AND HOW TO -OBTAIN IT which, designed particularly for commercial men engaged in -sedentary occupations, were to be made with mental concentration in front -of a mirror so as to bring into play the various families of muscles and -produce successively a pleasant rigidity, a more pleasant relaxation and -the most pleasant repristination of juvenile agility. -Had any special agility been his in earlier youth? -Though ringweight lifting had been beyond his strength and the full -circle gyration beyond his courage yet as a High school scholar he had -excelled in his stable and protracted execution of the half lever -movement on the parallel bars in consequence of his abnormally developed -abdominal muscles. -Did either openly allude to their racial difference? -Neither. -What, reduced to their simplest reciprocal form, were Bloom's thoughts -about Stephen's thoughts about Bloom and about Stephen's thoughts about -Bloom's thoughts about Stephen? -He thought that he thought that he was a jew whereas he knew that he knew -that he knew that he was not. -What, the enclosures of reticence removed, were their respective -parentages? -Bloom, only born male transubstantial heir of Rudolf Virag subsequently -Rudolph Bloom of Szombathely, Vienna, Budapest, Milan, London and Dublin -and of Ellen Higgins, second daughter of Julius Higgins born Karoly and -Fanny Higgins born Hegarty. Stephen, eldest surviving male -consubstantial heir of Simon Dedalus of Cork and Dublin and of Mary, -daughter of Richard and Christina Goulding born Grier. -Had Bloom and Stephen been baptised, and where and by whom, cleric or -layman? -Bloom three times, by the reverend Mr Gilmer Johnston M. A., alone, in -the protestant church of Saint Nicholas Without, Coombe, by James -O'Connor, Philip Gilligan and James Fitzpatrick, together, under a pump -in the village of Swords, and by the reverend Charles Malone C. C., in -the church of the Three Patrons, Rathgar. Stephen once by the reverend -Charles Malone C. C., alone, in the church of the Three Patrons, Rathgar. -Did they find their educational careers similar? -Substituting Stephen for Bloom Stoom would have passed successively -through a dame's school and the high school. Substituting Bloom for -Stephen Blephen would have passed successively through the preparatory, -junior, middle and senior grades of the intermediate and through the -matriculation, first arts, second arts and arts degree courses of the -royal university. -Why did Bloom refrain from stating that he had frequented the university -of life? -Because of his fluctuating incertitude as to whether this observation had -or had not been already made by him to Stephen or by Stephen to him. -What two temperaments did they individually represent? -The scientific. The artistic. -What proofs did Bloom adduce to prove that his tendency was towards -applied, rather than towards pure, science? -Certain possible inventions of which he had cogitated when reclining in a -state of supine repletion to aid digestion, stimulated by his -appreciation of the importance of inventions now common but once -revolutionary, for example, the aeronautic parachute, the reflecting -telescope, the spiral corkscrew, the safety pin, the mineral water -siphon, the canal lock with winch and sluice, the suction pump. -Were these inventions principally intended for an improved scheme of -kindergarten? -Yes, rendering obsolete popguns, elastic airbladders, games of hazard, -catapults. They comprised astronomical kaleidoscopes exhibiting the -twelve constellations of the zodiac from Aries to Pisces, miniature -mechanical orreries, arithmetical gelatine lozenges, geometrical to -correspond with zoological biscuits, globemap playing balls, historically -costumed dolls. -What also stimulated him in his cogitations? -The financial success achieved by Ephraim Marks and Charles A. James, the -former by his d bazaar at George's street, south, the latter at his -/d shop and world's fancy fair and waxwork exhibition at Henry -street, admission d, children d and the infinite possibilities -hitherto unexploited of the modern art of advertisement if condensed in -triliteral monoideal symbols, vertically of maximum visibility divined, -horizontally of maximum legibility deciphered and of magnetising -efficacy to arrest involuntary attention, to interest, to convince, to -decide. -Such as? -K. II. Kino's / Trousers. House of Keys. Alexander J. Keyes. -Such as not? -Look at this long candle. Calculate when it burns out and you receive -gratis pair of our special noncompo boots, guaranteed candle power. -Address Barclay and Cook, Talbot street. -Bacilikil Insect Powder. Veribest Boot Blacking. Uwantit Combined -pocket twoblade penknife with corkscrew, nailfile and pipecleaner. -Such as never? -What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? -Incomplete. -With it an abode of bliss. -Manufactured by George Plumtree, Merchants' quay, Dublin, put up in -oz pots, and inserted by Councillor Joseph P. Nannetti, M. P., Rotunda -Ward, Hardwicke street, under the obituary notices and anniversaries -of deceases. The name on the label is Plumtree. A plumtree in a meatpot, -registered trade mark. Beware of imitations. Peatmot. Trumplee. Moutpat. -Plamtroo. -Which example did he adduce to induce Stephen to deduce that originality, -though producing its own reward, does not invariably conduce to success? -His own ideated and rejected project of an illuminated showcart, drawn by -a beast of burden, in which two smartly dressed girls were to be seated -engaged in writing. -What suggested scene was then constructed by Stephen? -Solitary hotel in mountain pass. Autumn. Twilight. Fire lit. In dark -corner young man seated. Young woman enters. Restless. Solitary. She -sits. She goes to window. She stands. She sits. Twilight. She thinks. On -solitary hotel paper she writes. She thinks. She writes. She sighs. -Wheels and hoofs. She hurries out. He comes from his dark corner. He -seizes solitary paper. He holds it towards fire. Twilight. He reads. -Solitary. -What? -In sloping, upright and backhands Queen's Hotel, Queen's Hotel, Queen's -Hotel. Queen's Ho... -What suggested scene was then reconstructed by Bloom? -The Queen's Hotel, Ennis, county Clare, where Rudolph Bloom Rudolf -Virag died on the evening of the June , at some hour unstated, in -consequence of an overdose of monkshood aconite selfadministered in the -form of a neuralgic liniment composed of parts of aconite liniment to I -of chloroform liniment purchased by him at . a.m. on the morning of - June at the medical hall of Francis Dennehy, Church street, -Ennis after having, though not in consequence of having, purchased at -. p.m. on the afternoon of June a new boater straw hat, extra -smart after having, though not in consequence of having, purchased at -the hour and in the place aforesaid, the toxin aforesaid, at the general -drapery store of James Cullen, Main street, Ennis. -Did he attribute this homonymity to information or coincidence or -intuition? -Coincidence. -Did he depict the scene verbally for his guest to see? -He preferred himself to see another's face and listen to another's words -by which potential narration was realised and kinetic temperament -relieved. -Did he see only a second coincidence in the second scene narrated to him, -described by the narrator as A PISGAH SIGHT OF PALESTINE OR THE PARABLE -OF THE PLUMS? -It, with the preceding scene and with others unnarrated but existent by -implication, to which add essays on various subjects or moral apothegms -e.g. MY FAVOURITE HERO OR PROCRASTINATION IS THE THIEF OF TIME composed -during schoolyears, seemed to him to contain in itself and in conjunction -with the personal equation certain possibilities of financial, social, -personal and sexual success, whether specially collected and selected as -model pedagogic themes of cent per cent merit for the use of -preparatory and junior grade students or contributed in printed form, -following the precedent of Philip Beaufoy or Doctor Dick or Heblon's -STUDIES IN BLUE, to a publication of certified circulation and solvency -or employed verbally as intellectual stimulation for sympathetic -auditors, tacitly appreciative of successful narrative and confidently -augurative of successful achievement, during the increasingly longer -nights gradually following the summer solstice on the day but three -following, videlicet, Tuesday, June S. Aloysius Gonzaga, sunrise -. a.m., sunset . p.m. -Which domestic problem as much as, if not more than, any other frequently -engaged his mind? -What to do with our wives. -What had been his hypothetical singular solutions? -Parlour games dominos, halma, tiddledywinks, spilikins, cup and ball, -nap, spoil five, bezique, twentyfive, beggar my neighbour, draughts, -chess or backgammon embroidery, darning or knitting for the policeaided -clothing society musical duets, mandoline and guitar, piano and flute, -guitar and piano legal scrivenery or envelope addressing biweekly -visits to variety entertainments commercial activity as pleasantly -commanding and pleasingly obeyed mistress proprietress in a cool dairy -shop or warm cigar divan the clandestine satisfaction of erotic -irritation in masculine brothels, state inspected and medically -controlled social visits, at regular infrequent prevented intervals and -with regular frequent preventive superintendence, to and from female -acquaintances of recognised respectability in the vicinity courses of -evening instruction specially designed to render liberal instruction -agreeable. -What instances of deficient mental development in his wife inclined him -in favour of the lastmentioned ninth solution? -In disoccupied moments she had more than once covered a sheet of paper -with signs and hieroglyphics which she stated were Greek and Irish and -Hebrew characters. She had interrogated constantly at varying intervals -as to the correct method of writing the capital initial of the name of a -city in Canada, Quebec. She understood little of political complications, -internal, or balance of power, external. In calculating the addenda of -bills she frequently had recourse to digital aid. After completion of -laconic epistolary compositions she abandoned the implement of -calligraphy in the encaustic pigment, exposed to the corrosive action of -copperas, green vitriol and nutgall. Unusual polysyllables of foreign -origin she interpreted phonetically or by false analogy or by both -metempsychosis met him pike hoses, ALIAS a mendacious person mentioned -in sacred scripture. -What compensated in the false balance of her intelligence for these and -such deficiencies of judgment regarding persons, places and things? -The false apparent parallelism of all perpendicular arms of all balances, -proved true by construction. The counterbalance of her proficiency of -judgment regarding one person, proved true by experiment. -How had he attempted to remedy this state of comparative ignorance? -Variously. By leaving in a conspicuous place a certain book open at a -certain page by assuming in her, when alluding explanatorily, latent -knowledge by open ridicule in her presence of some absent other's -ignorant lapse. -With what success had he attempted direct instruction? -She followed not all, a part of the whole, gave attention with interest -comprehended with surprise, with care repeated, with greater difficulty -remembered, forgot with ease, with misgiving reremembered, rerepeated -with error. -What system had proved more effective? -Indirect suggestion implicating selfinterest. -Example? -She disliked umbrella with rain, he liked woman with umbrella, she -disliked new hat with rain, he liked woman with new hat, he bought new -hat with rain, she carried umbrella with new hat. -Accepting the analogy implied in his guest's parable which examples of -postexilic eminence did he adduce? -Three seekers of the pure truth, Moses of Egypt, Moses Maimonides, author -of MORE NEBUKIM Guide of the Perplexed and Moses Mendelssohn of such -eminence that from Moses of Egypt to Moses Mendelssohn there arose -none like Moses Maimonides. -What statement was made, under correction, by Bloom concerning a fourth -seeker of pure truth, by name Aristotle, mentioned, with permission, by -Stephen? -That the seeker mentioned had been a pupil of a rabbinical philosopher, -name uncertain. -Were other anapocryphal illustrious sons of the law and children of a -selected or rejected race mentioned? -Felix Bartholdy Mendelssohn composer, Baruch Spinoza philosopher, -Mendoza pugilist, Ferdinand Lassalle reformer, duellist. -What fragments of verse from the ancient Hebrew and ancient Irish -languages were cited with modulations of voice and translation of texts -by guest to host and by host to guest? -By Stephen SUIL, SUIL, SUIL ARUN, SUIL GO SIOCAIR AGUS SUIL GO CUIN -walk, walk, walk your way, walk in safety, walk with care. -By Bloom KIFELOCH, HARIMON RAKATEJCH M'BAAD L'ZAMATEJCH thy temple amid -thy hair is as a slice of pomegranate. -How was a glyphic comparison of the phonic symbols of both languages made -in substantiation of the oral comparison? -By juxtaposition. On the penultimate blank page of a book of inferior -literary style, entituled SWEETS OF SIN produced by Bloom and so -manipulated that its front cover carne in contact with the surface of the -table with a pencil supplied by Stephen Stephen wrote the Irish -characters for gee, eh, dee, em, simple and modified, and Bloom in turn -wrote the Hebrew characters ghimel, aleph, daleth and in the absence of -mem a substituted qoph, explaining their arithmetical values as ordinal -and cardinal numbers, videlicet , , , and . -Was the knowledge possessed by both of each of these languages, the -extinct and the revived, theoretical or practical? -Theoretical, being confined to certain grammatical rules of accidence and -syntax and practically excluding vocabulary. -What points of contact existed between these languages and between the -peoples who spoke them? -The presence of guttural sounds, diacritic aspirations, epenthetic and -servile letters in both languages their antiquity, both having been -taught on the plain of Shinar years after the deluge in the seminary -instituted by Fenius Farsaigh, descendant of Noah, progenitor of Israel, -and ascendant of Heber and Heremon, progenitors of Ireland their -archaeological, genealogical, hagiographical, exegetical, homiletic, -toponomastic, historical and religious literatures comprising the works -of rabbis and culdees, Torah, Talmud Mischna and Ghemara, Massor, -Pentateuch, Book of the Dun Cow, Book of Ballymote, Garland of Howth, -Book of Kells their dispersal, persecution, survival and revival the -isolation of their synagogical and ecclesiastical rites in ghetto S. -Mary's Abbey and masshouse Adam and Eve's tavern the proscription of -their national costumes in penal laws and jewish dress acts the -restoration in Chanah David of Zion and the possibility of Irish -political autonomy or devolution. -What anthem did Bloom chant partially in anticipation of that multiple, -ethnically irreducible consummation? -KOLOD BALEJWAW PNIMAH -NEFESCH, JEHUDI, HOMIJAH. -Why was the chant arrested at the conclusion of this first distich? -In consequence of defective mnemotechnic. -How did the chanter compensate for this deficiency? -By a periphrastic version of the general text. -In what common study did their mutual reflections merge? -The increasing simplification traceable from the Egyptian epigraphic -hieroglyphs to the Greek and Roman alphabets and the anticipation of -modern stenography and telegraphic code in the cuneiform inscriptions -Semitic and the virgular quinquecostate ogham writing Celtic. Did the -guest comply with his host's request? -Doubly, by appending his signature in Irish and Roman characters. -What was Stephen's auditive sensation? -He heard in a profound ancient male unfamiliar melody the accumulation of -the past. -What was Bloom's visual sensation? -He saw in a quick young male familiar form the predestination of a future. -What were Stephen's and Bloom's quasisimultaneous volitional -quasisensations of concealed identities? -Visually, Stephen's The traditional figure of hypostasis, depicted by -Johannes Damascenus, Lentulus Romanus and Epiphanius Monachus as -leucodermic, sesquipedalian with winedark hair. Auditively, Bloom's The -traditional accent of the ecstasy of catastrophe. -What future careers had been possible for Bloom in the past and with what -exemplars? -In the church, Roman, Anglican or Nonconformist exemplars, the very -reverend John Conmee S. J., the reverend T. Salmon, D. D., provost of -Trinity college, Dr Alexander J. Dowie. At the bar, English or Irish -exemplars, Seymour Bushe, K. C., Rufus Isaacs, K. C. On the stage modern -or Shakespearean exemplars, Charles Wyndham, high comedian Osmond Tearle -died , exponent of Shakespeare. -Did the host encourage his guest to chant in a modulated voice a strange -legend on an allied theme? -Reassuringly, their place, where none could hear them talk, being -secluded, reassured, the decocted beverages, allowing for subsolid -residual sediment of a mechanical mixture, water plus sugar plus cream -plus cocoa, having been consumed. -Recite the first major part of this chanted legend. -LITTLE HARRY HUGHES AND HIS SCHOOLFELLOWS ALL -WENT OUT FOR TO PLAY BALL. -AND THE VERY FIRST BALL LITTLE HARRY HUGHES PLAYED -HE DROVE IT O'ER THE JEW'S GARDEN WALL. -AND THE VERY SECOND BALL LITTLE HARRY HUGHES PLAYED -HE BROKE THE JEW'S WINDOWS ALL. -How did the son of Rudolph receive this first part? -With unmixed feeling. Smiling, a jew he heard with pleasure and saw the -unbroken kitchen window. -Recite the second part minor of the legend. -THEN OUT THERE CAME THE JEW'S DAUGHTER -AND SHE ALL DRESSED IN GREEN. -"COME BACK, COME BACK, YOU PRETTY LITTLE BOY, -AND PLAY YOUR BALL AGAIN." -"I CAN'T COME BACK AND I WON'T COME BACK -WITHOUT MY SCHOOLFELLOWS ALL. -FOR IF MY MASTER HE DID HEAR -HE'D MAKE IT A SORRY BALL." -SHE TOOK HIM BY THE LILYWHITE HAND -AND LED HIM ALONG THE HALL -UNTIL SHE LED HIM TO A ROOM -WHERE NONE COULD HEAR HIM CALL. -SHE TOOK A PENKNIFE OUT OF HER POCKET -AND CUT OFF HIS LITTLE HEAD. -AND NOW HE'LL PLAY HIS BALL NO MORE -FOR HE LIES AMONG THE DEAD. -How did the father of Millicent receive this second part? -With mixed feelings. Unsmiling, he heard and saw with wonder a jew's -daughter, all dressed in green. -Condense Stephen's commentary. -One of all, the least of all, is the victim predestined. Once by -inadvertence twice by design he challenges his destiny. It comes when he -is abandoned and challenges him reluctant and, as an apparition of hope -and youth, holds him unresisting. It leads him to a strange habitation, -to a secret infidel apartment, and there, implacable, immolates him, -consenting. -Why was the host victim predestined sad? -He wished that a tale of a deed should be told of a deed not by him -should by him not be told. -Why was the host reluctant, unresisting still? -In accordance with the law of the conservation of energy. -Why was the host secret infidel silent? -He weighed the possible evidences for and against ritual murder the -incitations of the hierarchy, the superstition of the populace, the -propagation of rumour in continued fraction of veridicity, the envy of -opulence, the influence of retaliation, the sporadic reappearance of -atavistic delinquency, the mitigating circumstances of fanaticism, -hypnotic suggestion and somnambulism. -From which if any of these mental or physical disorders was he not -totally immune? -From hypnotic suggestion once, waking, he had not recognised his -sleeping apartment more than once, waking, he had been for an indefinite -time incapable of moving or uttering sounds. From somnambulism once, -sleeping, his body had risen, crouched and crawled in the direction of a -heatless fire and, having attained its destination, there, curled, -unheated, in night attire had lain, sleeping. -Had this latter or any cognate phenomenon declared itself in any member -of his family? -Twice, in Holles street and in Ontario terrace, his daughter Millicent -Milly at the ages of and years had uttered in sleep an exclamation -of terror and had replied to the interrogations of two figures in night -attire with a vacant mute expression. -What other infantile memories had he of her? - June . A querulous newborn female infant crying to cause and -lessen congestion. A child renamed Padney Socks she shook with shocks her -moneybox counted his three free moneypenny buttons, one, tloo, tlee a -doll, a boy, a sailor she cast away blond, born of two dark, she had -blond ancestry, remote, a violation, Herr Hauptmann Hainau, Austrian -army, proximate, a hallucination, lieutenant Mulvey, British navy. -What endemic characteristics were present? -Conversely the nasal and frontal formation was derived in a direct line -of lineage which, though interrupted, would continue at distant intervals -to more distant intervals to its most distant intervals. -What memories had he of her adolescence? -She relegated her hoop and skippingrope to a recess. On the duke's lawn, -entreated by an English visitor, she declined to permit him to make and -take away her photographic image objection not stated. On the South -Circular road in the company of Elsa Potter, followed by an individual of -sinister aspect, she went half way down Stamer street and turned abruptly -back reason of change not stated. On the vigil of the th anniversary -of her birth she wrote a letter from Mullingar, county Westmeath, making -a brief allusion to a local student faculty and year not stated. -Did that first division, portending a second division, afflict him? -Less than he had imagined, more than he had hoped. -What second departure was contemporaneously perceived by him similarly, -if differently? -A temporary departure of his cat. -Why similarly, why differently? -Similarly, because actuated by a secret purpose the quest of a new male -Mullingar student or of a healing herb valerian. Differently, because -of different possible returns to the inhabitants or to the habitation. -In other respects were their differences similar? -In passivity, in economy, in the instinct of tradition, in -unexpectedness. -As? -Inasmuch as leaning she sustained her blond hair for him to ribbon it for -her cf neckarching cat. Moreover, on the free surface of the lake in -Stephen's green amid inverted reflections of trees her uncommented spit, -describing concentric circles of waterrings, indicated by the constancy -of its permanence the locus of a somnolent prostrate fish cf -mousewatching cat. -Again, in order to remember the date, combatants, issue and consequences -of a famous military engagement she pulled a plait of her hair cf -earwashing cat. Furthermore, silly Milly, she dreamed of having had an -unspoken unremembered conversation with a horse whose name had been -Joseph to whom which she had offered a tumblerful of lemonade which it -he had appeared to have accepted cf hearthdreaming cat. Hence, in -passivity, in economy, in the instinct of tradition, in unexpectedness, -their differences were similar. -In what way had he utilised gifts an owl, a clock, given as -matrimonial auguries, to interest and to instruct her? -As object lessons to explain the nature and habits of oviparous -animals, the possibility of aerial flight, certain abnormalities of -vision, the secular process of imbalsamation the principle of the -pendulum, exemplified in bob, wheelgear and regulator, the translation in -terms of human or social regulation of the various positions of clockwise -moveable indicators on an unmoving dial, the exactitude of the recurrence -per hour of an instant in each hour when the longer and the shorter -indicator were at the same angle of inclination, VIDELICET, / -minutes past each hour per hour in arithmetical progression. -In what manners did she reciprocate? -She remembered on the th anniversary of his birth she presented to him -a breakfast moustachecup of imitation Crown Derby porcelain ware. She -provided at quarter day or thereabouts if or when purchases had been -made by him not for her she showed herself attentive to his necessities, -anticipating his desires. She admired a natural phenomenon having been -explained by him to her she expressed the immediate desire to possess -without gradual acquisition a fraction of his science, the moiety, the -quarter, a thousandth part. -What proposal did Bloom, diambulist, father of Milly, somnambulist, make -to Stephen, noctambulist? -To pass in repose the hours intervening between Thursday proper and -Friday normal on an extemporised cubicle in the apartment immediately -above the kitchen and immediately adjacent to the sleeping apartment of -his host and hostess. -What various advantages would or might have resulted from a prolongation -of such an extemporisation? -For the guest security of domicile and seclusion of study. For the host -rejuvenation of intelligence, vicarious satisfaction. For the hostess -disintegration of obsession, acquisition of correct Italian -pronunciation. -Why might these several provisional contingencies between a guest and a -hostess not necessarily preclude or be precluded by a permanent -eventuality of reconciliatory union between a schoolfellow and a jew's -daughter? -Because the way to daughter led through mother, the way to mother through -daughter. -To what inconsequent polysyllabic question of his host did the guest -return a monosyllabic negative answer? -If he had known the late Mrs Emily Sinico, accidentally killed at Sydney -Parade railway station, October . -What inchoate corollary statement was consequently suppressed by the -host? -A statement explanatory of his absence on the occasion of the interment -of Mrs Mary Dedalus born Goulding, June , vigil of the -anniversary of the decease of Rudolph Bloom born Virag. -Was the proposal of asylum accepted? -Promptly, inexplicably, with amicability, gratefully it was declined. -What exchange of money took place between host and guest? -The former returned to the latter, without interest, a sum of money -, one pound seven shillings sterling, advanced by the latter to -the former. -What counterproposals were alternately advanced, accepted, modified, -declined, restated in other terms, reaccepted, ratified, reconfirmed? -To inaugurate a prearranged course of Italian instruction, place the -residence of the instructed. To inaugurate a course of vocal instruction, -place the residence of the instructress. To inaugurate a series of static -semistatic and peripatetic intellectual dialogues, places the residence -of both speakers if both speakers were resident in the same place, the -Ship hotel and tavern, Lower Abbey street W. and E. Connery, -proprietors, the National Library of Ireland, Kildare street, the -National Maternity Hospital, , and Holles street, a public -garden, the vicinity of a place of worship, a conjunction of two or more -public thoroughfares, the point of bisection of a right line drawn -between their residences if both speakers were resident in different -places. -What rendered problematic for Bloom the realisation of these mutually -selfexcluding propositions? -The irreparability of the past once at a performance of Albert Hengler's -circus in the Rotunda, Rutland square, Dublin, an intuitive particoloured -clown in quest of paternity had penetrated from the ring to a place in -the auditorium where Bloom, solitary, was seated and had publicly -declared to an exhilarated audience that he Bloom was his the clown's -papa. The imprevidibility of the future once in the summer of he -Bloom had marked a florin / with three notches on the milled edge -and tendered it m payment of an account due to and received by J. and T. -Davy, family grocers, Charlemont Mall, Grand Canal, for circulation on -the waters of civic finance, for possible, circuitous or direct, return. -Was the clown Bloom's son? -No. -Had Bloom's coin returned? -Never. -Why would a recurrent frustration the more depress him? -Because at the critical turningpoint of human existence he desired to -amend many social conditions, the product of inequality and avarice and -international animosity. -He believed then that human life was infinitely perfectible, eliminating -these conditions? -There remained the generic conditions imposed by natural, as distinct -from human law, as integral parts of the human whole the necessity of -destruction to procure alimentary sustenance the painful character of -the ultimate functions of separate existence, the agonies of birth and -death the monotonous menstruation of simian and particularly human -females extending from the age of puberty to the menopause inevitable -accidents at sea, in mines and factories certain very painful maladies -and their resultant surgical operations, innate lunacy and congenital -criminality, decimating epidemics catastrophic cataclysms which make -terror the basis of human mentality seismic upheavals the epicentres of -which are located in densely populated regions the fact of vital growth, -through convulsions of metamorphosis, from infancy through maturity to -decay. -Why did he desist from speculation? -Because it was a task for a superior intelligence to substitute other -more acceptable phenomena in the place of the less acceptable phenomena -to be removed. -Did Stephen participate in his dejection? -He affirmed his significance as a conscious rational animal proceeding -syllogistically from the known to the unknown and a conscious rational -reagent between a micro and a macrocosm ineluctably constructed upon the -incertitude of the void. -Was this affirmation apprehended by Bloom? -Not verbally. Substantially. -What comforted his misapprehension? -That as a competent keyless citizen he had proceeded energetically from -the unknown to the known through the incertitude of the void. -In what order of precedence, with what attendant ceremony was the exodus -from the house of bondage to the wilderness of inhabitation effected? -Lighted Candle in Stick borne by -BLOOM -Diaconal Hat on Ashplant borne by -STEPHEN -With what intonation secreto of what commemorative psalm? -The th, MODUS PEREGRINUS IN EXITU ISRAEL DE EGYPTO DOMUS JACOB DE -POPULO BARBARO. -What did each do at the door of egress? -Bloom set the candlestick on the floor. Stephen put the hat on his head. -For what creature was the door of egress a door of ingress? -For a cat. -What spectacle confronted them when they, first the host, then the guest, -emerged silently, doubly dark, from obscurity by a passage from the rere -of the house into the penumbra of the garden? -The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit. -With what meditations did Bloom accompany his demonstration to his -companion of various constellations? -Meditations of evolution increasingly vaster of the moon invisible in -incipient lunation, approaching perigee of the infinite lattiginous -scintillating uncondensed milky way, discernible by daylight by an -observer placed at the lower end of a cylindrical vertical shaft ft -deep sunk from the surface towards the centre of the earth of Sirius -alpha in Canis Maior lightyears ,,,, miles distant -and in volume times the dimension of our planet of Arcturus of the -precession of equinoxes of Orion with belt and sextuple sun theta and -nebula in which of our solar systems could be contained of moribund -and of nascent new stars such as Nova in of our system plunging -towards the constellation of Hercules of the parallax or parallactic -drift of socalled fixed stars, in reality evermoving wanderers from -immeasurably remote eons to infinitely remote futures in comparison with -which the years, threescore and ten, of allotted human life formed a -parenthesis of infinitesimal brevity. -Were there obverse meditations of involution increasingly less vast? -Of the eons of geological periods recorded in the stratifications of the -earth of the myriad minute entomological organic existences concealed in -cavities of the earth, beneath removable stones, in hives and mounds, of -microbes, germs, bacteria, bacilli, spermatozoa of the incalculable -trillions of billions of millions of imperceptible molecules contained by -cohesion of molecular affinity in a single pinhead of the universe of -human serum constellated with red and white bodies, themselves universes -of void space constellated with other bodies, each, in continuity, its -universe of divisible component bodies of which each was again divisible -in divisions of redivisible component bodies, dividends and divisors ever -diminishing without actual division till, if the progress were carried -far enough, nought nowhere was never reached. -Why did he not elaborate these calculations to a more precise result? -Because some years previously in when occupied with the problem of -the quadrature of the circle he had learned of .the existence of a number -computed to a relative degree of accuracy to be of such magnitude and of -so many places, e.g., the th power of the th power of , that, the -result having been obtained, closely printed volumes of pages -each of innumerable quires and reams of India paper would have to be -requisitioned in order to contain the complete tale of its printed -integers of units, tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds -of thousands, millions, tens of millions, hundreds of millions, billions, -the nucleus of the nebula of every digit of every series containing -succinctly the potentiality of being raised to the utmost kinetic -elaboration of any power of any of its powers. -Did he find the problems of the inhabitability of the planets and their -satellites by a race, given in species, and of the possible social and -moral redemption of said race by a redeemer, easier of solution? -Of a different order of difficulty. Conscious that the human organism, -normally capable of sustaining an atmospheric pressure of tons, when -elevated to a considerable altitude in the terrestrial atmosphere -suffered with arithmetical progression of intensity, according as the -line of demarcation between troposphere and stratosphere was approximated -from nasal hemorrhage, impeded respiration and vertigo, when proposing -this problem for solution, he had conjectured as a working hypothesis -which could not be proved impossible that a more adaptable and -differently anatomically constructed race of beings might subsist -otherwise under Martian, Mercurial, Veneral, Jovian, Saturnian, Neptunian -or Uranian sufficient and equivalent conditions, though an apogean -humanity of beings created in varying forms with finite differences -resulting similar to the whole and to one another would probably there as -here remain inalterably and inalienably attached to vanities, to vanities -of vanities and to all that is vanity. -And the problem of possible redemption? -The minor was proved by the major. -Which various features of the constellations were in turn considered? -The various colours significant of various degrees of vitality white, -yellow, crimson, vermilion, cinnabar their degrees of brilliancy their -magnitudes revealed up to and including the th their positions the -waggoner's star Walsingham way the chariot of David the annular -cinctures of Saturn the condensation of spiral nebulae into suns the -interdependent gyrations of double suns the independent synchronous -discoveries of Galileo, Simon Marius, Piazzi, Le Verrier, Herschel, -Galle the systematisations attempted by Bode and Kepler of cubes of -distances and squares of times of revolution the almost infinite -compressibility of hirsute comets and their vast elliptical egressive and -reentrant orbits from perihelion to aphelion the sidereal origin of -meteoric stones the Libyan floods on Mars about the period of the birth -of the younger astroscopist the annual recurrence of meteoric showers -about the period of the feast of S. Lawrence martyr, lo August the -monthly recurrence known as the new moon with the old moon in her arms -the posited influence of celestial on human bodies the appearance of a -star st magnitude of exceeding brilliancy dominating by night and day -a new luminous sun generated by the collision and amalgamation in -incandescence of two nonluminous exsuns about the period of the birth of -William Shakespeare over delta in the recumbent neversetting -constellation of Cassiopeia and of a star nd magnitude of similar -origin but of lesser brilliancy which had appeared in and disappeared -from the constellation of the Corona Septentrionalis about the period of -the birth of Leopold Bloom and of other stars of presumably similar -origin which had effectively or presumably appeared in and disappeared -from the constellation of Andromeda about the period of the birth of -Stephen Dedalus, and in and from the constellation of Auriga some years -after the birth and death of Rudolph Bloom, junior, and in and from other -constellations some years before or after the birth or death of other -persons the attendant phenomena of eclipses, solar and lunar, from -immersion to emersion, abatement of wind, transit of shadow, taciturnity -of winged creatures, emergence of nocturnal or crepuscular animals, -persistence of infernal light, obscurity of terrestrial waters, pallor of -human beings. -His Bloom's logical conclusion, having weighed the matter and allowing -for possible error? -That it was not a heaventree, not a heavengrot, not a heavenbeast, not a -heavenman. That it was a Utopia, there being no known method from the -known to the unknown an infinity renderable equally finite by the -suppositious apposition of one or more bodies equally of the same and of -different magnitudes a mobility of illusory forms immobilised in space, -remobilised in air a past which possibly had ceased to exist as a -present before its probable spectators had entered actual present -existence. -Was he more convinced of the esthetic value of the spectacle? -Indubitably in consequence of the reiterated examples of poets in the -delirium of the frenzy of attachment or in the abasement of rejection -invoking ardent sympathetic constellations or the frigidity of the -satellite of their planet. -Did he then accept as an article of belief the theory of astrological -influences upon sublunary disasters? -It seemed to him as possible of proof as of confutation and the -nomenclature employed in its selenographical charts as attributable to -verifiable intuition as to fallacious analogy the lake of dreams, the -sea of rains, the gulf of dews, the ocean of fecundity. -What special affinities appeared to him to exist between the moon and -woman? -Her antiquity in preceding and surviving successive tellurian -generations her nocturnal predominance her satellitic dependence her -luminary reflection her constancy under all her phases, rising and -setting by her appointed times, waxing and waning the forced -invariability of her aspect her indeterminate response to inaffirmative -interrogation her potency over effluent and refluent waters her power -to enamour, to mortify, to invest with beauty, to render insane, to -incite to and aid delinquency the tranquil inscrutability of her visage -the terribility of her isolated dominant implacable resplendent -propinquity her omens of tempest and of calm the stimulation of her -light, her motion and her presence the admonition of her craters, her -arid seas, her silence her splendour, when visible her attraction, when -invisible. -What visible luminous sign attracted Bloom's, who attracted Stephen's, -gaze? -In the second storey rere of his Bloom's house the light of a -paraffin oil lamp with oblique shade projected on a screen of roller -blind supplied by Frank O'Hara, window blind, curtain pole and revolving -shutter manufacturer, Aungier street. -How did he elucidate the mystery of an invisible attractive person, his -wife Marion Molly Bloom, denoted by a visible splendid sign, a lamp? -With indirect and direct verbal allusions or affirmations with subdued -affection and admiration with description with impediment with -suggestion. -Both then were silent? -Silent, each contemplating the other in both mirrors of the reciprocal -flesh of theirhisnothis fellowfaces. -Were they indefinitely inactive? -At Stephen's suggestion, at Bloom's instigation both, first Stephen, then -Bloom, in penumbra urinated, their sides contiguous, their organs of -micturition reciprocally rendered invisible by manual circumposition, -their gazes, first Bloom's, then Stephen's, elevated to the projected -luminous and semiluminous shadow. -Similarly? -The trajectories of their, first sequent, then simultaneous, urinations -were dissimilar Bloom's longer, less irruent, in the incomplete form of -the bifurcated penultimate alphabetical letter, who in his ultimate year -at High School had been capable of attaining the point of greatest -altitude against the whole concurrent strength of the institution, -scholars Stephen's higher, more sibilant, who in the ultimate hours of -the previous day had augmented by diuretic consumption an insistent -vesical pressure. -What different problems presented themselves to each concerning the -invisible audible collateral organ of the other? -To Bloom the problems of irritability, tumescence, rigidity, reactivity, -dimension, sanitariness, pilosity. -To Stephen the problem of the sacerdotal integrity of Jesus circumcised -I January, holiday of obligation to hear mass and abstain from -unnecessary servile work and the problem as to whether the divine -prepuce, the carnal bridal ring of the holy Roman catholic apostolic -church, conserved in Calcata, were deserving of simple hyperduly or of -the fourth degree of latria accorded to the abscission of such divine -excrescences as hair and toenails. -What celestial sign was by both simultaneously observed? -A star precipitated with great apparent velocity across the firmament -from Vega in the Lyre above the zenith beyond the stargroup of the Tress -of Berenice towards the zodiacal sign of Leo. -How did the centripetal remainer afford egress to the centrifugal -departer? -By inserting the barrel of an arruginated male key in the hole of an -unstable female lock, obtaining a purchase on the bow of the key and -turning its wards from right to left, withdrawing a bolt from its staple, -pulling inward spasmodically an obsolescent unhinged door and revealing -an aperture for free egress and free ingress. -How did they take leave, one of the other, in separation? -Standing perpendicular at the same door and on different sides of its -base, the lines of their valedictory arms, meeting at any point and -forming any angle less than the sum of two right angles. -What sound accompanied the union of their tangent, the disunion of their -respectively centrifugal and centripetal hands? -The sound of the peal of the hour of the night by the chime of the bells -in the church of Saint George. -What echoes of that sound were by both and each heard? -By Stephen -LILIATA RUTILANTIUM. TURMA CIRCUMDET. -IUBILANTIUM TE VIRGINUM. CHORUS EXCIPIAT. -By Bloom -HEIGHO, HEIGHO, -HEIGHO, HEIGHO. -Where were the several members of the company which with Bloom that day -at the bidding of that peal had travelled from Sandymount in the south to -Glasnevin in the north? -Martin Cunningham in bed, Jack Power in bed, Simon Dedalus in bed, -Ned Lambert in bed, Tom Kernan in bed, Joe Hynes in bed, John Henry -Menton in bed, Bernard Corrigan in bed, Patsy Dignam in bed, Paddy -Dignam in the grave. -Alone, what did Bloom hear? -The double reverberation of retreating feet on the heavenborn earth, the -double vibration of a jew's harp in the resonant lane. -Alone, what did Bloom feel? -The cold of interstellar space, thousands of degrees below freezing point -or the absolute zero of Fahrenheit, Centigrade or Reaumur the incipient -intimations of proximate dawn. -Of what did bellchime and handtouch and footstep and lonechill remind -him? -Of companions now in various manners in different places defunct Percy -Apjohn killed in action, Modder River, Philip Gilligan phthisis, -Jervis Street hospital, Matthew F. Kane accidental drowning, Dublin -Bay, Philip Moisel pyemia, Heytesbury street, Michael Hart phthisis, -Mater Misericordiae hospital, Patrick Dignam apoplexy, Sandymount. -What prospect of what phenomena inclined him to remain? -The disparition of three final stars, the diffusion of daybreak, the -apparition of a new solar disk. -Had he ever been a spectator of those phenomena? -Once, in , after a protracted performance of charades in the house of -Luke Doyle, Kimmage, he had awaited with patience the apparition of the -diurnal phenomenon, seated on a wall, his gaze turned in the direction of -Mizrach, the east. -He remembered the initial paraphenomena? -More active air, a matutinal distant cock, ecclesiastical clocks at -various points, avine music, the isolated tread of an early wayfarer, the -visible diffusion of the light of an invisible luminous body, the first -golden limb of the resurgent sun perceptible low on the horizon. -Did he remain? -With deep inspiration he returned, retraversing the garden, reentering -the passage, reclosing the door. With brief suspiration he reassumed the -candle, reascended the stairs, reapproached the door of the front room, -hallfloor, and reentered. -What suddenly arrested his ingress? -The right temporal lobe of the hollow sphere of his cranium came into -contact with a solid timber angle where, an infinitesimal but sensible -fraction of a second later, a painful sensation was located in -consequence of antecedent sensations transmitted and registered. -Describe the alterations effected in the disposition of the articles of -furniture. -A sofa upholstered in prune plush had been translocated from opposite the -door to the ingleside near the compactly furled Union Jack an alteration -which he had frequently intended to execute the blue and white checker -inlaid majolicatopped table had been placed opposite the door in the -place vacated by the prune plush sofa the walnut sideboard a projecting -angle of which had momentarily arrested his ingress had been moved from -its position beside the door to a more advantageous but more perilous -position in front of the door two chairs had been moved from right and -left of the ingleside to the position originally occupied by the blue and -white checker inlaid majolicatopped table. -Describe them. -One a squat stuffed easychair, with stout arms extended and back slanted -to the rere, which, repelled in recoil, had then upturned an irregular -fringe of a rectangular rug and now displayed on its amply upholstered -seat a centralised diffusing and diminishing discolouration. The other a -slender splayfoot chair of glossy cane curves, placed directly opposite -the former, its frame from top to seat and from seat to base being -varnished dark brown, its seat being a bright circle of white plaited -rush. -What significances attached to these two chairs? -Significances of similitude, of posture, of symbolism, of circumstantial -evidence, of testimonial supermanence. -What occupied the position originally occupied by the sideboard? -A vertical piano Cadby with exposed keyboard, its closed coffin -supporting a pair of long yellow ladies' gloves and an emerald ashtray -containing four consumed matches, a partly consumed cigarette and two -discoloured ends of cigarettes, its musicrest supporting the music in the -key of G natural for voice and piano of LOVE'S OLD SWEET SONG words by -G. Clifton Bingham, composed by J. L. Molloy, sung by Madam Antoinette -Sterling open at the last page with the final indications AD LIBITUM, -FORTE, pedal, ANIMATO, sustained pedal, RITIRANDO, close. -With what sensations did Bloom contemplate in rotation these objects? -With strain, elevating a candlestick with pain, feeling on his right -temple a contused tumescence with attention, focussing his gaze on a -large dull passive and a slender bright active with solicitation, -bending and downturning the upturned rugfringe with amusement, -remembering Dr Malachi Mulligan's scheme of colour containing the -gradation of green with pleasure, repeating the words and antecedent act -and perceiving through various channels of internal sensibility the -consequent and concomitant tepid pleasant diffusion of gradual -discolouration. -His next proceeding? -From an open box on the majolicatopped table he extracted a black -diminutive cone, one inch in height, placed it on its circular base on a -small tin plate, placed his candlestick on the right corner of the -mantelpiece, produced from his waistcoat a folded page of prospectus -illustrated entitled Agendath Netaim, unfolded the same, examined it -superficially, rolled it into a thin cylinder, ignited it in the -candleflame, applied it when ignited to the apex of the cone till the -latter reached the stage of rutilance, placed the cylinder in the basin -of the candlestick disposing its unconsumed part in such a manner as to -facilitate total combustion. -What followed this operation? -The truncated conical crater summit of the diminutive volcano emitted a -vertical and serpentine fume redolent of aromatic oriental incense. -What homothetic objects, other than the candlestick, stood on the -mantelpiece? -A timepiece of striated Connemara marble, stopped at the hour of . -a.m. on the March , matrimonial gift of Matthew Dillon a dwarf -tree of glacial arborescence under a transparent bellshade, matrimonial -gift of Luke and Caroline Doyle an embalmed owl, matrimonial gift of -Alderman John Hooper. -What interchanges of looks took place between these three objects and -Bloom? -In the mirror of the giltbordered pierglass the undecorated back of the -dwarf tree regarded the upright back of the embalmed owl. Before the -mirror the matrimonial gift of Alderman John Hooper with a clear -melancholy wise bright motionless compassionate gaze regarded Bloom while -Bloom with obscure tranquil profound motionless compassionated gaze -regarded the matrimonial gift of Luke and Caroline Doyle. -What composite asymmetrical image in the mirror then attracted his -attention? -The image of a solitary ipsorelative mutable aliorelative man. -Why solitary ipsorelative? -BROTHERS AND SISTERS HAD HE NONE. -YET THAT MAN'S FATHER WAS HIS GRANDFATHER'S SON. -Why mutable aliorelative? -From infancy to maturity he had resembled his maternal procreatrix. From -maturity to senility he would increasingly resemble his paternal -procreator. -What final visual impression was communicated to him by the mirror? -The optical reflection of several inverted volumes improperly arranged -and not in the order of their common letters with scintillating titles on -the two bookshelves opposite. -Catalogue these books. -THOM'S DUBLIN POST OFFICE DIRECTORY, . -Denis Florence M'Carthy's POETICAL WORKS copper beechleaf bookmark -at p. . -Shakespeare's WORKS dark crimson morocco, goldtooled. -THE USEFUL READY RECKONER brown cloth. -THE SECRET HISTORY OF THE COURT OF CHARLES II red cloth, tooled -binding. -THE CHILD'S GUIDE blue cloth. -The Beauties of Killarney wrappers. -WHEN WE WERE BOYS by William O'Brien M. P. green cloth, slightly faded, -envelope bookmark at p. . -THOUGHTS FROM SPINOZA maroon leather. -THE STORY OF THE HEAVENS by Sir Robert Ball blue cloth. -Ellis's THREE TRIPS TO MADAGASCAR brown cloth, title obliterated. -THE STARKMUNRO LETTERS by A. Conan Doyle, property of the City of -Dublin Public Library, Capel street, lent May Whitsun Eve -, due June , days overdue black cloth binding, bearing -white letternumber ticket. -VOYAGES IN CHINA by "Viator" recovered with brown paper, red ink title. -PHILOSOPHY OF THE TALMUD sewn pamphlet. -Lockhart's LIFE OF NAPOLEON cover wanting, marginal annotations, -minimising victories, aggrandising defeats of the protagonist. -SOLL UND HABEN by Gustav Freytag black boards, Gothic characters, -cigarette coupon bookmark at p. . -Hozier's HISTORY OF THE RUSSOTURKISH WAR brown cloth, a volumes, with -gummed label, Garrison Library, Governor's Parade, Gibraltar, on verso -of cover. -LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND by William Allingham second edition, -green cloth, gilt trefoil design, previous owner's name on recto of -flyleaf erased. -A HANDBOOK OF ASTRONOMY cover, brown leather, detached, S plates, -antique letterpress long primer, author's footnotes nonpareil, marginal -clues brevier, captions small pica. -THE HIDDEN LIFE OF CHRIST black boards. -IN THE TRACK OF THE SUN yellow cloth, titlepage missing, recurrent title -intestation. -PHYSICAL STRENGTH AND HOW TO OBTAIN IT by Eugen Sandow red cloth. -SHORT BUT YET PLAIN ELEMENTS OF GEOMETRY written in French by F. Ignat. -Pardies and rendered into English by John Harris D. D. London, -printed for R. Knaplock at the Bifhop's Head, MDCCXI, with dedicatory -epiftle to his worthy friend Charles Cox, efquire, Member of -Parliament for the burgh of Southwark and having ink calligraphed -statement on the flyleaf certifying that the book was the property of -Michael Gallagher, dated this th day of May and requefting the -perfon who should find it, if the book should be loft or go aftray, -to reftore it to Michael Gallagher, carpenter, Dufery Gate, -Ennifcorthy, county Wicklow, the fineft place in the world. -What reflections occupied his mind during the process of reversion of the -inverted volumes? -The necessity of order, a place for everything and everything in its -place the deficient appreciation of literature possessed by females the -incongruity of an apple incuneated in a tumbler and of an umbrella -inclined in a closestool the insecurity of hiding any secret document -behind, beneath or between the pages of a book. -Which volume was the largest in bulk? -Hozier's HISTORY OF THE RUSSOTURKISH WAR. -What among other data did the second volume of the work in question -contain? -The name of a decisive battle forgotten, frequently remembered by a -decisive officer, major Brian Cooper Tweedy remembered. -Why, firstly and secondly, did he not consult the work in question? -Firstly, in order to exercise mnemotechnic secondly, because after an -interval of amnesia, when, seated at the central table, about to consult -the work in question, he remembered by mnemotechnic the name of the -military engagement, Plevna. -What caused him consolation in his sitting posture? -The candour, nudity, pose, tranquility, youth, grace, sex, counsel of a -statue erect in the centre of the table, an image of Narcissus purchased -by auction from P. A. Wren, Bachelor's Walk. -What caused him irritation in his sitting posture? Inhibitory pressure of -collar size and waistcoat buttons, two articles of clothing -superfluous in the costume of mature males and inelastic to alterations -of mass by expansion. -How was the irritation allayed? -He removed his collar, with contained black necktie and collapsible stud, -from his neck to a position on the left of the table. He unbuttoned -successively in reversed direction waistcoat, trousers, shirt and vest -along the medial line of irregular incrispated black hairs extending in -triangular convergence from the pelvic basin over the circumference of -the abdomen and umbilicular fossicle along the medial line of nodes to -the intersection of the sixth pectoral vertebrae, thence produced both -ways at right angles and terminating in circles described about two -equidistant points, right and left, on the summits of the mammary -prominences. He unbraced successively each of six minus one braced -trouser buttons, arranged in pairs, of which one incomplete. -What involuntary actions followed? -He compressed between fingers the flesh circumjacent to a cicatrice in -the left infracostal region below the diaphragm resulting from a sting -inflicted weeks and days previously May by a bee. He -scratched imprecisely with his right hand, though insensible of -prurition, various points and surfaces of his partly exposed, wholly -abluted skin. He inserted his left hand into the left lower pocket of his -waistcoat and extracted and replaced a silver coin I shilling, placed -there presumably on the occasion October of the interment of -Mrs Emily Sinico, Sydney Parade. -Compile the budget for June . -DEBIT CREDIT -Lsd Lsd - Pork kidney Cash in Hand - Copy FREEMAN'S JOURNAL Commission recd FREEMAN'S JOURNAL - Bath And Gratification Loan Stephen Dedalus -Tramfare - In Memoriam -Patrick Dignam - Banbury cakes - Lunch - Renewal fee for book - Packet Notepaper -and Envelopes - Dinner -and Gratification -I Postal Order -and Stamp -Tramfare - Pig's Foot - Sheep's Trotter - Cake Fry's -Plain Chocolate - Square Soda Bread - Coffee and Bun -Loan Stephen Dedalus -refunded -BALANCE -Did the process of divestiture continue? -Sensible of a benignant persistent ache in his footsoles he extended his -foot to one side and observed the creases, protuberances and salient -points caused by foot pressure in the course of walking repeatedly in -several different directions, then, inclined, he disnoded the laceknots, -unhooked and loosened the laces, took off each of his two boots for the -second time, detached the partially moistened right sock through the fore -part of which the nail of his great toe had again effracted, raised his -right foot and, having unhooked a purple elastic sock suspender, took off -his right sock, placed his unclothed right foot on the margin of the seat -of his chair, picked at and gently lacerated the protruding part of the -great toenail, raised the part lacerated to his nostrils and inhaled the -odour of the quick, then, with satisfaction, threw away the lacerated -ungual fragment. -Why with satisfaction? -Because the odour inhaled corresponded to other odours inhaled of other -ungual fragments, picked and lacerated by Master Bloom, pupil of Mrs -Ellis's juvenile school, patiently each night in the act of brief -genuflection and nocturnal prayer and ambitious meditation. -In what ultimate ambition had all concurrent and consecutive ambitions -now coalesced? -Not to inherit by right of primogeniture, gavelkind or borough English, -or possess in perpetuity an extensive demesne of a sufficient number of -acres, roods and perches, statute land measure valuation pounds, of -grazing turbary surrounding a baronial hall with gatelodge and carriage -drive nor, on the other hand, a terracehouse or semidetached villa, -described as RUS IN URBE or QUI SI SANA, but to purchase by private -treaty in fee simple a thatched bungalowshaped storey dwellinghouse of -southerly aspect, surmounted by vane and lightning conductor, connected -with the earth, with porch covered by parasitic plants ivy or Virginia -creeper, halldoor, olive green, with smart carriage finish and neat -doorbrasses, stucco front with gilt tracery at eaves and gable, rising, -if possible, upon a gentle eminence with agreeable prospect from balcony -with stone pillar parapet over unoccupied and unoccupyable interjacent -pastures and standing in or acres of its own ground, at such a -distance from the nearest public thoroughfare as to render its -houselights visible at night above and through a quickset hornbeam hedge -of topiary cutting, situate at a given point not less than statute mile -from the periphery of the metropolis, within a time limit of not more -than minutes from tram or train line e.g., Dundrum, south, or Sutton, -north, both localities equally reported by trial to resemble the -terrestrial poles in being favourable climates for phthisical subjects, -the premises to be held under feefarm grant, lease years, the -messuage to consist of drawingroom with baywindow lancets, -thermometer affixed, sittingroom, bedrooms, servants' rooms, tiled -kitchen with close range and scullery, lounge hall fitted with linen -wallpresses, fumed oak sectional bookcase containing the Encyclopaedia -Britannica and New Century Dictionary, transverse obsolete medieval and -oriental weapons, dinner gong, alabaster lamp, bowl pendant, vulcanite -automatic telephone receiver with adjacent directory, handtufted -Axminster carpet with cream ground and trellis border, loo table with -pillar and claw legs, hearth with massive firebrasses and ormolu mantel -chronometer clock, guaranteed timekeeper with cathedral chime, barometer -with hygrographic chart, comfortable lounge settees and corner fitments, -upholstered in ruby plush with good springing and sunk centre, three -banner Japanese screen and cuspidors club style, rich winecoloured -leather, gloss renewable with a minimum of labour by use of linseed oil -and vinegar and pyramidically prismatic central chandelier lustre, -bentwood perch with fingertame parrot expurgated language, embossed -mural paper at / per dozen with transverse swags of carmine floral -design and top crown frieze, staircase, three continuous flights at -successive right angles, of varnished cleargrained oak, treads and -risers, newel, balusters and handrail, with steppedup panel dado, dressed -with camphorated wax bathroom, hot and cold supply, reclining and -shower water closet on mezzanine provided with opaque singlepane oblong -window, tipup seat, bracket lamp, brass tierod and brace, armrests, -footstool and artistic oleograph on inner face of door ditto, plain -servants' apartments with separate sanitary and hygienic necessaries for -cook, general and betweenmaid salary, rising by biennial unearned -increments of pounds, with comprehensive fidelity insurance, annual -bonus pound and retiring allowance based on the system after -years' service, pantry, buttery, larder, refrigerator, outoffices, coal -and wood cellarage with winebin still and sparkling vintages for -distinguished guests, if entertained to dinner evening dress, carbon -monoxide gas supply throughout. -What additional attractions might the grounds contain? -As addenda, a tennis and fives court, a shrubbery, a glass summerhouse -with tropical palms, equipped in the best botanical manner, a rockery -with waterspray, a beehive arranged on humane principles, oval flowerbeds -in rectangular grassplots set with eccentric ellipses of scarlet and -chrome tulips, blue scillas, crocuses, polyanthus, sweet William, sweet -pea, lily of the valley bulbs obtainable from sir James W. Mackey -Limited wholesale and retail seed and bulb merchants and nurserymen, -agents for chemical manures, Sackville street, upper, an orchard, -kitchen garden and vinery protected against illegal trespassers by -glasstopped mural enclosures, a lumbershed with padlock for various -inventoried implements. -As? -Eeltraps, lobsterpots, fishingrods, hatchet, steelyard, grindstone, -clodcrusher, swatheturner, carriagesack, telescope ladder, tooth rake, -washing clogs, haytedder, tumbling rake, billhook, paintpot, brush, hoe -and so on. -What improvements might be subsequently introduced? -A rabbitry and fowlrun, a dovecote, a botanical conservatory, hammocks -lady's and gentleman's, a sundial shaded and sheltered by laburnum or -lilac trees, an exotically harmonically accorded Japanese tinkle gatebell -affixed to left lateral gatepost, a capacious waterbutt, a lawnmower with -side delivery and grassbox, a lawnsprinkler with hydraulic hose. -What facilities of transit were desirable? -When citybound frequent connection by train or tram from their respective -intermediate station or terminal. When countrybound velocipedes, a -chainless freewheel roadster cycle with side basketcar attached, or -draught conveyance, a donkey with wicker trap or smart phaeton with good -working solidungular cob roan gelding, h. -What might be the name of this erigible or erected residence? -Bloom Cottage. Saint Leopold's. Flowerville. -Could Bloom of Eccles street foresee Bloom of Flowerville? -In loose allwool garments with Harris tweed cap, price /, and useful -garden boots with elastic gussets and wateringcan, planting aligned young -firtrees, syringing, pruning, staking, sowing hayseed, trundling a -weedladen wheelbarrow without excessive fatigue at sunset amid the scent -of newmown hay, ameliorating the soil, multiplying wisdom, achieving -longevity. -What syllabus of intellectual pursuits was simultaneously possible? -Snapshot photography, comparative study of religions, folklore relative -to various amatory and superstitious practices, contemplation of the -celestial constellations. -What lighter recreations? -Outdoor garden and fieldwork, cycling on level macadamised causeways -ascents of moderately high hills, natation in secluded fresh water and -unmolested river boating in secure wherry or light curricle with kedge -anchor on reaches free from weirs and rapids period of estivation, -vespertinal perambulation or equestrian circumprocession with inspection -of sterile landscape and contrastingly agreeable cottagers' fires of -smoking peat turves period of hibernation. Indoor discussion in tepid -security of unsolved historical and criminal problems lecture of -unexpurgated exotic erotic masterpieces house carpentry with toolbox -containing hammer, awl nails, screws, tintacks, gimlet, tweezers, -bullnose plane and turnscrew. Might he become a gentleman farmer of field -produce and live stock? -Not impossibly, with or stripper cows, pike of upland hay and -requisite farming implements, e.g., an endtoend churn, a turnip pulper -etc. -What would be his civic functions and social status among the county -families and landed gentry? -Arranged successively in ascending powers of hierarchical order, that of -gardener, groundsman, cultivator, breeder, and at the zenith of his -career, resident magistrate or justice of the peace with a family crest -and coat of arms and appropriate classical motto SEMPER PARATUS, duly -recorded in the court directory Bloom, Leopold P., M. P., P. C., K. P., -L. L. D. HONORIS CAUSA, Bloomville, Dundrum and mentioned in court and -fashionable intelligence Mr and Mrs Leopold Bloom have left Kingstown -for England. -What course of action did he outline for himself in such capacity? -A course that lay between undue clemency and excessive rigour the -dispensation in a heterogeneous society of arbitrary classes, incessantly -rearranged in terms of greater and lesser social inequality, of unbiassed -homogeneous indisputable justice, tempered with mitigants of the widest -possible latitude but exactable to the uttermost farthing with -confiscation of estate, real and personal, to the crown. Loyal to the -highest constituted power in the land, actuated by an innate love of -rectitude his aims would be the strict maintenance of public order, the -repression of many abuses though not of all simultaneously every measure -of reform or retrenchment being a preliminary solution to be contained by -fluxion in the final solution, the upholding of the letter of the law -common, statute and law merchant against all traversers in covin and -trespassers acting in contravention of bylaws and regulations, all -resuscitators by trespass and petty larceny of kindlings of venville -rights, obsolete by desuetude, all orotund instigators of international -persecution, all perpetuators of international animosities, all menial -molestors of domestic conviviality, all recalcitrant violators of -domestic connubiality. -Prove that he had loved rectitude from his earliest youth. -To Master Percy Apjohn at High School in he had divulged his -disbelief in the tenets of the Irish protestant church to which his -father Rudolf Virag later Rudolph Bloom had been converted from the -Israelitic faith and communion in by the Society for promoting -Christianity among the jews subsequently abjured by him in favour of -Roman catholicism at the epoch of and with a view to his matrimony in -. To Daniel Magrane and Francis Wade in during a juvenile -friendship terminated by the premature emigration of the former he had -advocated during nocturnal perambulations the political theory of -colonial e.g. Canadian expansion and the evolutionary theories of -Charles Darwin, expounded in THE DESCENT OF MAN and THE ORIGIN OF -SPECIES. In he had publicly expressed his adherence to the -collective and national economic programme advocated by James Fintan -Lalor, John Fisher Murray, John Mitchel, J. F. X. O'Brien and others, the -agrarian policy of Michael Davitt, the constitutional agitation of -Charles Stewart Parnell M. P. for Cork City, the programme of peace, -retrenchment and reform of William Ewart Gladstone M. P. for Midlothian, -N. B. and, in support of his political convictions, had climbed up into -a secure position amid the ramifications of a tree on Northumberland road -to see the entrance February into the capital of a demonstrative -torchlight procession of , torchbearers, divided into trade -corporations, bearing torches in escort of the marquess of Ripon and -honest John Morley. -How much and how did he propose to pay for this country residence? -As per prospectus of the Industrious Foreign Acclimatised Nationalised -Friendly Stateaided Building Society incorporated , a maximum of -pounds per annum, being / of an assured income, derived from giltedged -securities, representing at percent simple interest on capital of -pounds estimate of price at years' purchase, of which to be paid -on acquisition and the balance in the form of annual rent, viz. -pounds plus / percent interest on the same, repayable quarterly in -equal annual instalments until extinction by amortisation of loan -advanced for purchase within a period of years, amounting to an annual -rental of pounds, headrent included, the titledeeds to remain in -possession of the lender or lenders with a saving clause envisaging -forced sale, foreclosure and mutual compensation in the event of -protracted failure to pay the terms assigned, otherwise the messuage to -become the absolute property of the tenant occupier upon expiry of the -period of years stipulated. -What rapid but insecure means to opulence might facilitate immediate -purchase? -A private wireless telegraph which would transmit by dot and dash system -the result of a national equine handicap flat or steeplechase of I or -more miles and furlongs won by an outsider at odds of to at hr m -p.m. at Ascot Greenwich time, the message being received and available -for betting purposes in Dublin at . p.m. Dunsink time. The -unexpected discovery of an object of great monetary value precious -stone, valuable adhesive or impressed postage stamps schilling, mauve, -imperforate, Hamburg, pence, rose, blue paper, perforate, Great -Britain, franc, stone, official, rouletted, diagonal surcharge, -Luxemburg, , antique dynastical ring, unique relic in unusual -repositories or by unusual means from the air dropped by an eagle in -flight, by fire amid the carbonised remains of an incendiated edifice, -in the sea amid flotsam, jetsam, lagan and derelict, on earth in the -gizzard of a comestible fowl. A Spanish prisoner's donation of a distant -treasure of valuables or specie or bullion lodged with a solvent banking -corporation loo years previously at percent compound interest of the -collective worth of ,, pounds stg five million pounds sterling. -A contract with an inconsiderate contractee for the delivery of -consignments of some given commodity in consideration of cash payment on -delivery per delivery at the initial rate of /d to be increased -constantly in the geometrical progression of /d, /d, d, d, d, -d, s d, s d to terms. A prepared scheme based on a study of the -laws of probability to break the bank at Monte Carlo. A solution of the -secular problem of the quadrature of the circle, government premium -,, pounds sterling. -Was vast wealth acquirable through industrial channels? -The reclamation of dunams of waste arenary soil, proposed in the -prospectus of Agendath Netaim, Bleibtreustrasse, Berlin, W. , by the -cultivation of orange plantations and melonfields and reafforestation. -The utilisation of waste paper, fells of sewer rodents, human excrement -possessing chemical properties, in view of the vast production of the -first, vast number of the second and immense quantity of the third, every -normal human being of average vitality and appetite producing annually, -cancelling byproducts of water, a sum total of lbs. mixed animal and -vegetable diet, to be multiplied by ,,, the total population of -Ireland according to census returns of . -Were there schemes of wider scope? -A scheme to be formulated and submitted for approval to the harbour -commissioners for the exploitation of white coal hydraulic power, -obtained by hydroelectric plant at peak of tide at Dublin bar or at head -of water at Poulaphouca or Powerscourt or catchment basins of main -streams for the economic production of , W. H. P. of electricity. A -scheme to enclose the peninsular delta of the North Bull at Dollymount -and erect on the space of the foreland, used for golf links and rifle -ranges, an asphalted esplanade with casinos, booths, shooting galleries, -hotels, boardinghouses, readingrooms, establishments for mixed bathing. A -scheme for the use of dogvans and goatvans for the delivery of early -morning milk. A scheme for the development of Irish tourist traffic in -and around Dublin by means of petrolpropelled riverboats, plying in the -fluvial fairway between Island bridge and Ringsend, charabancs, narrow -gauge local railways, and pleasure steamers for coastwise navigation -/ per person per day, guide trilingual included. A scheme for the -repristination of passenger and goods traffics over Irish waterways, when -freed from weedbeds. A scheme to connect by tramline the Cattle Market -North Circular road and Prussia street with the quays Sheriff street, -lower, and East Wall, parallel with the Link line railway laid in -conjunction with the Great Southern and Western railway line between the -cattle park, Liffey junction, and terminus of Midland Great Western -Railway to North Wall, in proximity to the terminal stations or -Dublin branches of Great Central Railway, Midland Railway of England, -City of Dublin Steam Packet Company, Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway -Company, Dublin and Glasgow Steam Packet Company, Glasgow, Dublin and -Londonderry Steam Packet Company Laird line, British and Irish Steam -Packet Company, Dublin and Morecambe Steamers, London and North Western -Railway Company, Dublin Port and Docks Board Landing Sheds and transit -sheds of Palgrave, Murphy and Company, steamship owners, agents for -steamers from Mediterranean, Spain, Portugal, France, Belgium and Holland -and for Liverpool Underwriters' Association, the cost of acquired rolling -stock for animal transport and of additional mileage operated by the -Dublin United Tramways Company, limited, to be covered by graziers' fees. -Positing what protasis would the contraction for such several schemes -become a natural and necessary apodosis? -Given a guarantee equal to the sum sought, the support, by deed of gift -and transfer vouchers during donor's lifetime or by bequest after donor's -painless extinction, of eminent financiers Blum Pasha, Rothschild -Guggenheim, Hirsch, Montefiore, Morgan, Rockefeller possessing fortunes -in figures, amassed during a successful life, and joining capital with -opportunity the thing required was done. -What eventuality would render him independent of such wealth? -The independent discovery of a goldseam of inexhaustible ore. -For what reason did he meditate on schemes so difficult of realisation? -It was one of his axioms that similar meditations or the automatic -relation to himself of a narrative concerning himself or tranquil -recollection of the past when practised habitually before retiring for -the night alleviated fatigue and produced as a result sound repose and -renovated vitality. -His justifications? -As a physicist he had learned that of the years of complete human life -at least /, viz. years are passed in sleep. As a philosopher he knew -that at the termination of any allotted life only an infinitesimal part -of any person's desires has been realised. As a physiologist he believed -in the artificial placation of malignant agencies chiefly operative -during somnolence. -What did he fear? -The committal of homicide or suicide during sleep by an aberration of the -light of reason, the incommensurable categorical intelligence situated in -the cerebral convolutions. -What were habitually his final meditations? -Of some one sole unique advertisement to cause passers to stop in wonder, -a poster novelty, with all extraneous accretions excluded, reduced to its -simplest and most efficient terms not exceeding the span of casual vision -and congruous with the velocity of modern life. -What did the first drawer unlocked contain? -A Vere Foster's handwriting copybook, property of Milly Millicent -Bloom, certain pages of which bore diagram drawings, marked PAPLI, which -showed a large globular head with hairs erect, eyes in profile, the -trunk full front with large buttons, triangular foot fading -photographs of queen Alexandra of England and of Maud Branscombe, actress -and professional beauty a Yuletide card, bearing on it a pictorial -representation of a parasitic plant, the legend MIZPAH, the date Xmas -, the name of the senders from Mr Mrs M. Comerford, the versicle -MAY THIS YULETIDE BRING TO THEE, JOY AND PEACE AND WELCOME GLEE a butt -of red partly liquefied sealing wax, obtained from the stores department -of Messrs Hely's, Ltd., , , and Dame street a box containing the -remainder of a gross of gilt "J" pennibs, obtained from same department -of same firm an old sandglass which rolled containing sand which rolled -a sealed prophecy never unsealed written by Leopold Bloom in -concerning the consequences of the passing into law of William Ewart -Gladstone's Home Rule bill of never passed into law a bazaar -ticket, no , of S. Kevin's Charity Fair, price d, prizes an -infantile epistle, dated, small em monday, reading capital pee Papli -comma capital aitch How are you note of interrogation capital eye I am -very well full stop new paragraph signature with flourishes capital em -Milly no stop a cameo brooch, property of Ellen Bloom born Higgins, -deceased a cameo scarfpin, property of Rudolph Bloom born Virag, -deceased typewritten letters, addressee, Henry Flower, c/o. P. O. -Westland Row, addresser, Martha Clifford, c/o. P. O. Dolphin's Barn the -transliterated name and address of the addresser of the letters in -reversed alphabetic boustrophedonic punctated quadrilinear cryptogram -vowels suppressed N. IGS./WI. UU. OX/W. OKS. MH/Y. IM a press cutting -from an English weekly periodical MODERN SOCIETY, subject corporal -chastisement in girls' schools a pink ribbon which had festooned an -Easter egg in the year two partly uncoiled rubber preservatives -with reserve pockets, purchased by post from Box , P. O., Charing -Cross, London, W. C. pack of dozen creamlaid envelopes and -feintruled notepaper, watermarked, now reduced by some assorted -AustrianHungarian coins coupons of the Royal and Privileged Hungarian -Lottery a lowpower magnifying glass erotic photocards showing a -buccal coition between nude senorita rere presentation, superior -position and nude torero fore presentation, inferior position b anal -violation by male religious fully clothed, eyes abject of female -religious partly clothed, eyes direct, purchased by post from Box , -P. O., Charing Cross, London, W. C. a press cutting of recipe for -renovation of old tan boots a Id adhesive stamp, lavender, of the reign -of Queen Victoria a chart of the measurements of Leopold Bloom compiled -before, during and after months' consecutive use of SandowWhiteley's -pulley exerciser men's /, athlete's / viz. chest in and / -in, biceps in and in, forearm / in and in, thigh in and -in, calf in and in prospectus of The Wonderworker, the world's -greatest remedy for rectal complaints, direct from Wonderworker, Coventry -House, South Place, London E C, addressed erroneously to Mrs L. Bloom -with brief accompanying note commencing erroneously Dear Madam. -Quote the textual terms in which the prospectus claimed advantages for -this thaumaturgic remedy. -It heals and soothes while you sleep, in case of trouble in breaking -wind, assists nature in the most formidable way, insuring instant relief -in discharge of gases, keeping parts clean and free natural action, an -initial outlay of / making a new man of you and life worth living. -Ladies find Wonderworker especially useful, a pleasant surprise when they -note delightful result like a cool drink of fresh spring water on a -sultry summer's day. Recommend it to your lady and gentlemen friends, -lasts a lifetime. Insert long round end. Wonderworker. -Were there testimonials? -Numerous. From clergyman, British naval officer, wellknown author, city -man, hospital nurse, lady, mother of five, absentminded beggar. -How did absentminded beggar's concluding testimonial conclude? -What a pity the government did not supply our men with wonderworkers -during the South African campaign What a relief it would have been -What object did Bloom add to this collection of objects? -A th typewritten letter received by Henry Flower let H. F. be L. B. -from Martha Clifford find M. C.. -What pleasant reflection accompanied this action? -The reflection that, apart from the letter in question, his magnetic -face, form and address had been favourably received during the course of -the preceding day by a wife Mrs Josephine Breen, born Josie Powell, a -nurse, Miss Callan Christian name unknown, a maid, Gertrude Gerty, -family name unknown. -What possibility suggested itself? -The possibility of exercising virile power of fascination in the not -immediate future after an expensive repast in a private apartment in the -company of an elegant courtesan, of corporal beauty, moderately -mercenary, variously instructed, a lady by origin. -What did the nd drawer contain? -Documents the birth certificate of Leopold Paula Bloom an endowment -assurance policy of pounds in the Scottish Widows' Assurance Society, -intestated Millicent Milly Bloom, coming into force at years as with -profit policy of pounds, // and pounds at years or -death, years or death and death, respectively, or with profit policy -paidup of // together with cash payment of //, at option a -bank passbook issued by the Ulster Bank, College Green branch showing -statement of a/c for halfyear ending December , balance in -depositor's favour // eighteen pounds, fourteen shillings and -sixpence, sterling, net personalty certificate of possession of -pounds, Canadian percent inscribed government stock free of stamp -duty dockets of the Catholic Cemeteries' Glasnevin Committee, -relative to a graveplot purchased a local press cutting concerning -change of name by deedpoll. -Quote the textual terms of this notice. -I, Rudolph Virag, now resident at no Clanbrassil street, Dublin, -formerly of Szombathely in the kingdom of Hungary, hereby give notice -that I have assumed and intend henceforth upon all occasions and at all -times to be known by the name of Rudolph Bloom. -What other objects relative to Rudolph Bloom born Virag were in the nd -drawer? -An indistinct daguerreotype of Rudolf Virag and his father Leopold Virag -executed in the year in the portrait atelier of their respectively -st and nd cousin, Stefan Virag of Szesfehervar, Hungary. An ancient -haggadah book in which a pair of hornrimmed convex spectacles inserted -marked the passage of thanksgiving in the ritual prayers for Pessach -Passover a photocard of the Queen's Hotel, Ennis, proprietor, Rudolph -Bloom an envelope addressed TO MY DEAR SON LEOPOLD. -What fractions of phrases did the lecture of those five whole words -evoke? -Tomorrow will be a week that I received... it is no use Leopold to be ... -with your dear mother ... that is not more to stand ... to her ... all -for me is out ... be kind to Athos, Leopold ... my dear son ... always -... of me ... DAS HERZ ... GOTT ... DEIN ... -What reminiscences of a human subject suffering from progressive -melancholia did these objects evoke in Bloom? -An old man, widower, unkempt of hair, in bed, with head covered, sighing -an infirm dog, Athos aconite, resorted to by increasing doses of grains -and scruples as a palliative of recrudescent neuralgia the face in death -of a septuagenarian, suicide by poison. -Why did Bloom experience a sentiment of remorse? -Because in immature impatience he had treated with disrespect certain -beliefs and practices. -As? -The prohibition of the use of fleshmeat and milk at one meal the -hebdomadary symposium of incoordinately abstract, perfervidly concrete -mercantile coexreligionist excompatriots the circumcision of male -infants the supernatural character of Judaic scripture the ineffability -of the tetragrammaton the sanctity of the sabbath. -How did these beliefs and practices now appear to him? -Not more rational than they had then appeared, not less rational than -other beliefs and practices now appeared. -What first reminiscence had he of Rudolph Bloom deceased? -Rudolph Bloom deceased narrated to his son Leopold Bloom aged a -retrospective arrangement of migrations and settlements in and between -Dublin, London, Florence, Milan, Vienna, Budapest, Szombathely with -statements of satisfaction his grandfather having seen Maria Theresia, -empress of Austria, queen of Hungary, with commercial advice having -taken care of pence, the pounds having taken care of themselves. Leopold -Bloom aged had accompanied these narrations by constant consultation -of a geographical map of Europe political and by suggestions for the -establishment of affiliated business premises in the various centres -mentioned. -Had time equally but differently obliterated the memory of these -migrations in narrator and listener? -In narrator by the access of years and in consequence of the use of -narcotic toxin in listener by the access of years and in consequence of -the action of distraction upon vicarious experiences. -What idiosyncracies of the narrator were concomitant products of amnesia? -Occasionally he ate without having previously removed his hat. -Occasionally he drank voraciously the juice of gooseberry fool from an -inclined plate. Occasionally he removed from his lips the traces of food -by means of a lacerated envelope or other accessible fragment of paper. -What two phenomena of senescence were more frequent? -The myopic digital calculation of coins, eructation consequent upon -repletion. -What object offered partial consolation for these reminiscences? -The endowment policy, the bank passbook, the certificate of the -possession of scrip. -Reduce Bloom by cross multiplication of reverses of fortune, from which -these supports protected him, and by elimination of all positive values -to a negligible negative irrational unreal quantity. -Successively, in descending helotic order Poverty that of the outdoor -hawker of imitation jewellery, the dun for the recovery of bad and -doubtful debts, the poor rate and deputy cess collector. Mendicancy that -of the fraudulent bankrupt with negligible assets paying s. d. in the -pound, sandwichman, distributor of throwaways, nocturnal vagrant, -insinuating sycophant, maimed sailor, blind stripling, superannuated -bailiffs man, marfeast, lickplate, spoilsport, pickthank, eccentric -public laughingstock seated on bench of public park under discarded -perforated umbrella. Destitution the inmate of Old Man's House Royal -Hospital Kilmainham, the inmate of Simpson's Hospital for reduced but -respectable men permanently disabled by gout or want of sight. Nadir of -misery the aged impotent disfranchised ratesupported moribund lunatic -pauper. -With which attendant indignities? -The unsympathetic indifference of previously amiable females, the -contempt of muscular males, the acceptance of fragments of bread, the -simulated ignorance of casual acquaintances, the latration of -illegitimate unlicensed vagabond dogs, the infantile discharge of -decomposed vegetable missiles, worth little or nothing, nothing or less -than nothing. -By what could such a situation be precluded? -By decease change of state by departure change of place. -Which preferably? -The latter, by the line of least resistance. -What considerations rendered departure not entirely undesirable? -Constant cohabitation impeding mutual toleration of personal defects. The -habit of independent purchase increasingly cultivated. The necessity to -counteract by impermanent sojourn the permanence of arrest. -What considerations rendered departure not irrational? -The parties concerned, uniting, had increased and multiplied, which being -done, offspring produced and educed to maturity, the parties, if not -disunited were obliged to reunite for increase and multiplication, which -was absurd, to form by reunion the original couple of uniting parties, -which was impossible. -What considerations rendered departure desirable? -The attractive character of certain localities in Ireland and abroad, as -represented in general geographical maps of polychrome design or in -special ordnance survey charts by employment of scale numerals and -hachures. -In Ireland? -The cliffs of Moher, the windy wilds of Connemara, lough Neagh with -submerged petrified city, the Giant's Causeway, Fort Camden and Fort -Carlisle, the Golden Vale of Tipperary, the islands of Aran, the pastures -of royal Meath, Brigid's elm in Kildare, the Queen's Island shipyard in -Belfast, the Salmon Leap, the lakes of Killarney. -Abroad? -Ceylon with spicegardens supplying tea to Thomas Kernan, agent for -Pulbrook, Robertson and Co, Mincing Lane, London, E. C., Dame street, -Dublin, Jerusalem, the holy city with mosque of Omar and gate of -Damascus, goal of aspiration, the straits of Gibraltar the unique -birthplace of Marion Tweedy, the Parthenon containing statues of nude -Grecian divinities, the Wall street money market which controlled -international finance, the Plaza de Toros at La Linea, Spain where -O'Hara of the Camerons had slain the bull, Niagara over which no human -being had passed with impunity, the land of the Eskimos eaters of -soap, the forbidden country of Thibet from which no traveller returns, -the bay of Naples to see which was to die, the Dead Sea. -Under what guidance, following what signs? -At sea, septentrional, by night the polestar, located at the point of -intersection of the right line from beta to alpha in Ursa Maior produced -and divided externally at omega and the hypotenuse of the rightangled -triangle formed by the line alpha omega so produced and the line alpha -delta of Ursa Maior. On land, meridional, a bispherical moon, revealed in -imperfect varying phases of lunation through the posterior interstice of -the imperfectly occluded skirt of a carnose negligent perambulating -female, a pillar of the cloud by day. -What public advertisement would divulge the occultation of the departed? - pounds reward, lost, stolen or strayed from his residence Eccles -street, missing gent about , answering to the name of Bloom, Leopold -Poldy, height ft / inches, full build, olive complexion, may have -since grown a beard, when last seen was wearing a black suit. Above sum -will be paid for information leading to his discovery. -What universal binomial denominations would be his as entity and -nonentity? -Assumed by any or known to none. Everyman or Noman. -What tributes his? -Honour and gifts of strangers, the friends of Everyman. A nymph immortal, -beauty, the bride of Noman. -Would the departed never nowhere nohow reappear? -Ever he would wander, selfcompelled, to the extreme limit of his cometary -orbit, beyond the fixed stars and variable suns and telescopic planets, -astronomical waifs and strays, to the extreme boundary of space, passing -from land to land, among peoples, amid events. Somewhere imperceptibly he -would hear and somehow reluctantly, suncompelled, obey the summons of -recall. Whence, disappearing from the constellation of the Northern Crown -he would somehow reappear reborn above delta in the constellation of -Cassiopeia and after incalculable eons of peregrination return an -estranged avenger, a wreaker of justice on malefactors, a dark crusader, -a sleeper awakened, with financial resources by supposition surpassing -those of Rothschild or the silver king. -What would render such return irrational? -An unsatisfactory equation between an exodus and return in time through -reversible space and an exodus and return in space through irreversible -time. -What play of forces, inducing inertia, rendered departure undesirable? -The lateness of the hour, rendering procrastinatory the obscurity of the -night, rendering invisible the uncertainty of thoroughfares, rendering -perilous the necessity for repose, obviating movement the proximity of -an occupied bed, obviating research the anticipation of warmth human -tempered with coolness linen, obviating desire and rendering desirable -the statue of Narcissus, sound without echo, desired desire. -What advantages were possessed by an occupied, as distinct from an -unoccupied bed? -The removal of nocturnal solitude, the superior quality of human mature -female to inhuman hotwaterjar calefaction, the stimulation of -matutinal contact, the economy of mangling done on the premises in the -case of trousers accurately folded and placed lengthwise between the -spring mattress striped and the woollen mattress biscuit section. -What past consecutive causes, before rising preapprehended, of -accumulated fatigue did Bloom, before rising, silently recapitulate? -The preparation of breakfast burnt offering intestinal congestion and -premeditative defecation holy of holies the bath rite of John the -funeral rite of Samuel the advertisement of Alexander Keyes Urim and -Thummim the unsubstantial lunch rite of Melchisedek the visit to -museum and national library holy place the bookhunt along Bedford row, -Merchants' Arch, Wellington Quay Simchath Torah the music in the -Ormond Hotel Shira Shirim the altercation with a truculent troglodyte -in Bernard Kiernan's premises holocaust a blank period of time -including a cardrive, a visit to a house of mourning, a leavetaking -wilderness the eroticism produced by feminine exhibitionism rite of -Onan the prolonged delivery of Mrs Mina Purefoy heave offering the -visit to the disorderly house of Mrs Bella Cohen, Tyrone street, lower -and subsequent brawl and chance medley in Beaver street Armageddon -nocturnal perambulation to and from the cabman's shelter, Butt Bridge -atonement. -What selfimposed enigma did Bloom about to rise in order to go so as to -conclude lest he should not conclude involuntarily apprehend? -The cause of a brief sharp unforeseen heard loud lone crack emitted by -the insentient material of a strainveined timber table. -What selfinvolved enigma did Bloom risen, going, gathering multicoloured -multiform multitudinous garments, voluntarily apprehending, not -comprehend? -Who was M'Intosh? -What selfevident enigma pondered with desultory constancy during years -did Bloom now, having effected natural obscurity by the extinction of -artificial light, silently suddenly comprehend? -Where was Moses when the candle went out? -What imperfections in a perfect day did Bloom, walking, charged with -collected articles of recently disvested male wearing apparel, silently, -successively, enumerate? -A provisional failure to obtain renewal of an advertisement to obtain a -certain quantity of tea from Thomas Kernan agent for Pulbrook, Robertson -and Co, Dame Street, Dublin, and Mincing Lane, London E. C. to -certify the presence or absence of posterior rectal orifice in the case -of Hellenic female divinities to obtain admission gratuitous or paid -to the performance of Leah by Mrs Bandmann Palmer at the Gaiety Theatre, -, , , South King street. -What impression of an absent face did Bloom, arrested, silently recall? -The face of her father, the late Major Brian Cooper Tweedy, Royal Dublin -Fusiliers, of Gibraltar and Rehoboth, Dolphin's Barn. -What recurrent impressions of the same were possible by hypothesis? -Retreating, at the terminus of the Great Northern Railway, Amiens street, -with constant uniform acceleration, along parallel lines meeting at -infinity, if produced along parallel lines, reproduced from infinity, -with constant uniform retardation, at the terminus of the Great Northern -Railway, Amiens street, returning. -What miscellaneous effects of female personal wearing apparel were -perceived by him? -A pair of new inodorous halfsilk black ladies' hose, a pair of new violet -garters, a pair of outsize ladies' drawers of India mull, cut on generous -lines, redolent of opoponax, jessamine and Muratti's Turkish cigarettes -and containing a long bright steel safety pin, folded curvilinear, a -camisole of batiste with thin lace border, an accordion underskirt of -blue silk moirette, all these objects being disposed irregularly on the -top of a rectangular trunk, quadruple battened, having capped corners, -with multicoloured labels, initialled on its fore side in white lettering -B. C. T. Brian Cooper Tweedy. -What impersonal objects were perceived? -A commode, one leg fractured, totally covered by square cretonne cutting, -apple design, on which rested a lady's black straw hat. Orangekeyed ware, -bought of Henry Price, basket, fancy goods, chinaware and ironmongery -manufacturer, , , Moore street, disposed irregularly on the -washstand and floor and consisting of basin, soapdish and brushtray on -the washstand, together, pitcher and night article on the floor, -separate. -Bloom's acts? -He deposited the articles of clothing on a chair, removed his remaining -articles of clothing, took from beneath the bolster at the head of the -bed a folded long white nightshirt, inserted his head and arms into the -proper apertures of the nightshirt, removed a pillow from the head to the -foot of the bed, prepared the bedlinen accordingly and entered the bed. -How? -With circumspection, as invariably when entering an abode his own or not -his own with solicitude, the snakespiral springs of the mattress being -old, the brass quoits and pendent viper radii loose and tremulous under -stress and strain prudently, as entering a lair or ambush of lust or -adders lightly, the less to disturb reverently, the bed of conception -and of birth, of consummation of marriage and of breach of marriage, of -sleep and of death. -What did his limbs, when gradually extended, encounter? -New clean bedlinen, additional odours, the presence of a human form, -female, hers, the imprint of a human form, male, not his, some crumbs, -some flakes of potted meat, recooked, which he removed. -If he had smiled why would he have smiled? -To reflect that each one who enters imagines himself to be the first to -enter whereas he is always the last term of a preceding series even if -the first term of a succeeding one, each imagining himself to be first, -last, only and alone whereas he is neither first nor last nor only nor -alone in a series originating in and repeated to infinity. -What preceding series? -Assuming Mulvey to be the first term of his series, Penrose, Bartell -d'Arcy, professor Goodwin, Julius Mastiansky, John Henry Menton, Father -Bernard Corrigan, a farmer at the Royal Dublin Society's Horse Show, -Maggot O'Reilly, Matthew Dillon, Valentine Blake Dillon Lord Mayor of -Dublin, Christopher Callinan, Lenehan, an Italian organgrinder, an -unknown gentleman in the Gaiety Theatre, Benjamin Dollard, Simon Dedalus, -Andrew Pisser Burke, Joseph Cuffe, Wisdom Hely, Alderman John Hooper, -Dr Francis Brady, Father Sebastian of Mount Argus, a bootblack at the -General Post Office, Hugh E. Blazes Boylan and so each and so on to no -last term. -What were his reflections concerning the last member of this series and -late occupant of the bed? -Reflections on his vigour a bounder, corporal proportion a -billsticker, commercial ability a bester, impressionability a -boaster. -Why for the observer impressionability in addition to vigour, corporal -proportion and commercial ability? -Because he had observed with augmenting frequency in the preceding -members of the same series the same concupiscence, inflammably -transmitted, first with alarm, then with understanding, then with desire, -finally with fatigue, with alternating symptoms of epicene comprehension -and apprehension. -With what antagonistic sentiments were his subsequent reflections -affected? -Envy, jealousy, abnegation, equanimity. -Envy? -Of a bodily and mental male organism specially adapted for the -superincumbent posture of energetic human copulation and energetic piston -and cylinder movement necessary for the complete satisfaction of a -constant but not acute concupiscence resident in a bodily and mental -female organism, passive but not obtuse. -Jealousy? -Because a nature full and volatile in its free state, was alternately the -agent and reagent of attraction. Because attraction between agents and -reagents at all instants varied, with inverse proportion of increase -and decrease, with incessant circular extension and radial reentrance. -Because the controlled contemplation of the fluctuation of attraction -produced, if desired, a fluctuation of pleasure. -Abnegation? -In virtue of a acquaintance initiated in September in the -establishment of George Mesias, merchant tailor and outfitter, Eden -Quay, b hospitality extended and received in kind, reciprocated and -reappropriated in person, c comparative youth subject to impulses of -ambition and magnanimity, colleagual altruism and amorous egoism, d -extraracial attraction, intraracial inhibition, supraracial prerogative, -e an imminent provincial musical tour, common current expenses, net -proceeds divided. -Equanimity? -As as natural as any and every natural act of a nature expressed or -understood executed in natured nature by natural creatures in accordance -with his, her and their natured natures, of dissimilar similarity. As not -so calamitous as a cataclysmic annihilation of the planet in consequence -of a collision with a dark sun. As less reprehensible than theft, highway -robbery, cruelty to children and animals, obtaining money under false -pretences, forgery, embezzlement, misappropriation of public money, -betrayal of public trust, malingering, mayhem, corruption of minors, -criminal libel, blackmail, contempt of court, arson, treason, felony, -mutiny on the high seas, trespass, burglary, jailbreaking, practice of -unnatural vice, desertion from armed forces in the field, perjury, -poaching, usury, intelligence with the king's enemies, impersonation, -criminal assault, manslaughter, wilful and premeditated murder. As not -more abnormal than all other parallel processes of adaptation to altered -conditions of existence, resulting in a reciprocal equilibrium between -the bodily organism and its attendant circumstances, foods, beverages, -acquired habits, indulged inclinations, significant disease. As more than -inevitable, irreparable. -Why more abnegation than jealousy, less envy than equanimity? -From outrage matrimony to outrage adultery there arose nought but -outrage copulation yet the matrimonial violator of the matrimonially -violated had not been outraged by the adulterous violator of the -adulterously violated. -What retribution, if any? -Assassination, never, as two wrongs did not make one right. Duel by -combat, no. Divorce, not now. Exposure by mechanical artifice automatic -bed or individual testimony concealed ocular witnesses, not yet. Suit -for damages by legal influence or simulation of assault with evidence of -injuries sustained selfinflicted, not impossibly. Hushmoney by moral -influence possibly. If any, positively, connivance, introduction of -emulation material, a prosperous rival agency of publicity moral, a -successful rival agent of intimacy, depreciation, alienation, -humiliation, separation protecting the one separated from the other, -protecting the separator from both. -By what reflections did he, a conscious reactor against the void of -incertitude, justify to himself his sentiments? -The preordained frangibility of the hymen the presupposed intangibility -of the thing in itself the incongruity and disproportion between the -selfprolonging tension of the thing proposed to be done and the -selfabbreviating relaxation of the thing done the fallaciously inferred -debility of the female the muscularity of the male the variations of -ethical codes the natural grammatical transition by inversion involving -no alteration of sense of an aorist preterite proposition parsed as -masculine subject, monosyllabic onomatopoeic transitive verb with direct -feminine object from the active voice into its correlative aorist -preterite proposition parsed as feminine subject, auxiliary verb and -quasimonosyllabic onomatopoeic past participle with complementary -masculine agent in the passive voice the continued product of -seminators by generation the continual production of semen by -distillation the futility of triumph or protest or vindication the -inanity of extolled virtue the lethargy of nescient matter the apathy -of the stars. -In what final satisfaction did these antagonistic sentiments and -reflections, reduced to their simplest forms, converge? -Satisfaction at the ubiquity in eastern and western terrestrial -hemispheres, in all habitable lands and islands explored or unexplored -the land of the midnight sun, the islands of the blessed, the isles of -Greece, the land of promise, of adipose anterior and posterior female -hemispheres, redolent of milk and honey and of excretory sanguine and -seminal warmth, reminiscent of secular families of curves of amplitude, -insusceptible of moods of impression or of contrarieties of expression, -expressive of mute immutable mature animality. -The visible signs of antesatisfaction? -An approximate erection a solicitous adversion a gradual elevation a -tentative revelation a silent contemplation. -Then? -He kissed the plump mellow yellow smellow melons of her rump, on each -plump melonous hemisphere, in their mellow yellow furrow, with obscure -prolonged provocative melonsmellonous osculation. -The visible signs of postsatisfaction? -A silent contemplation a tentative velation a gradual abasement a -solicitous aversion a proximate erection. -What followed this silent action? -Somnolent invocation, less somnolent recognition, incipient excitation, -catechetical interrogation. -With what modifications did the narrator reply to this interrogation? -Negative he omitted to mention the clandestine correspondence between -Martha Clifford and Henry Flower, the public altercation at, in and in -the vicinity of the licensed premises of Bernard Kiernan and Co, Limited, -, and Little Britain street, the erotic provocation and response -thereto caused by the exhibitionism of Gertrude Gerty, surname unknown. -Positive he included mention of a performance by Mrs Bandmann Palmer of -LEAH at the Gaiety Theatre, , , , South King street, an -invitation to supper at Wynn's Murphy's Hotel, , and Lower -Abbey street, a volume of peccaminous pornographical tendency entituled -SWEETS OF SIN, anonymous author a gentleman of fashion, a temporary -concussion caused by a falsely calculated movement in the course of a -postcenal gymnastic display, the victim since completely recovered -being Stephen Dedalus, professor and author, eldest surviving son of -Simon Dedalus, of no fixed occupation, an aeronautical feat executed by -him narrator in the presence of a witness, the professor and author -aforesaid, with promptitude of decision and gymnastic flexibility. -Was the narration otherwise unaltered by modifications? -Absolutely. -Which event or person emerged as the salient point of his narration? -Stephen Dedalus, professor and author. -What limitations of activity and inhibitions of conjugal rights were -perceived by listener and narrator concerning themselves during the -course of this intermittent and increasingly more laconic narration? -By the listener a limitation of fertility inasmuch as marriage had been -celebrated calendar month after the th anniversary of her birth -September , viz. October, and consummated on the same date with -female issue born June , having been anticipatorily consummated on -the lo September of the same year and complete carnal intercourse, with -ejaculation of semen within the natural female organ, having last taken -place weeks previous, viz. November , to the birth on -December of second and only male issue, deceased January , -aged days, there remained a period of years, months and days -during which carnal intercourse had been incomplete, without ejaculation -of semen within the natural female organ. By the narrator a limitation of -activity, mental and corporal, inasmuch as complete mental intercourse -between himself and the listener had not taken place since the -consummation of puberty, indicated by catamenic hemorrhage, of the female -issue of narrator and listener, September , there remained a -period of months and day during which, in consequence of a -preestablished natural comprehension in incomprehension between the -consummated females listener and issue, complete corporal liberty of -action had been circumscribed. -How? -By various reiterated feminine interrogation concerning the masculine -destination whither, the place where, the time at which, the duration for -which, the object with which in the case of temporary absences, projected -or effected. -What moved visibly above the listener's and the narrator's invisible -thoughts? -The upcast reflection of a lamp and shade, an inconstant series of -concentric circles of varying gradations of light and shadow. -In what directions did listener and narrator lie? -Listener, S. E. by E. Narrator, N. W. by W. on the rd parallel of -latitude, N., and th meridian of longitude, W. at an angle of -degrees to the terrestrial equator. -In what state of rest or motion? -At rest relatively to themselves and to each other. In motion being each -and both carried westward, forward and rereward respectively, by the -proper perpetual motion of the earth through everchanging tracks of -neverchanging space. -In what posture? -Listener reclined semilaterally, left, left hand under head, right leg -extended in a straight line and resting on left leg, flexed, in the -attitude of GeaTellus, fulfilled, recumbent, big with seed. Narrator -reclined laterally, left, with right and left legs flexed, the index -finger and thumb of the right hand resting on the bridge of the nose, in -the attitude depicted in a snapshot photograph made by Percy Apjohn, the -childman weary, the manchild in the womb. -Womb? Weary? -He rests. He has travelled. -With? -Sinbad the Sailor and Tinbad the Tailor and Jinbad the Jailer and Whinbad -the Whaler and Ninbad the Nailer and Finbad the Failer and Binbad the -Bailer and Pinbad the Pailer and Minbad the Mailer and Hinbad the Hailer -and Rinbad the Railer and Dinbad the Kailer and Vinbad the Quailer and -Linbad the Yailer and Xinbad the Phthailer. -When? -Going to dark bed there was a square round Sinbad the Sailor roc's auk's -egg in the night of the bed of all the auks of the rocs of Darkinbad the -Brightdayler. -Where? -Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his -breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the CITY ARMS hotel when he -used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voice doing his highness -to make himself interesting for that old faggot Mrs Riordan that he -thought he had a great leg of and she never left us a farthing all for -masses for herself and her soul greatest miser ever was actually afraid -to lay out d for her methylated spirit telling me all her ailments she -had too much old chat in her about politics and earthquakes and the end -of the world let us have a bit of fun first God help the world if all the -women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course nobody -wanted her to wear them I suppose she was pious because no man would look -at her twice I hope Ill never be like her a wonder she didnt want us to -cover our faces but she was a welleducated woman certainly and her gabby -talk about Mr Riordan here and Mr Riordan there I suppose he was glad to -get shut of her and her dog smelling my fur and always edging to get up -under my petticoats especially then still I like that in him polite to -old women like that and waiters and beggars too hes not proud out of -nothing but not always if ever he got anything really serious the matter -with him its much better for them to go into a hospital where everything -is clean but I suppose Id have to dring it into him for a month yes and -then wed have a hospital nurse next thing on the carpet have him staying -there till they throw him out or a nun maybe like the smutty photo he has -shes as much a nun as Im not yes because theyre so weak and puling when -theyre sick they want a woman to get well if his nose bleeds youd think -it was O tragic and that dyinglooking one off the south circular when he -sprained his foot at the choir party at the sugarloaf Mountain the day I -wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst old ones she -could find at the bottom of the basket anything at all to get into a mans -bedroom with her old maids voice trying to imagine he was dying on -account of her to never see thy face again though he looked more like a -man with his beard a bit grown in the bed father was the same besides I -hate bandaging and dosing when he cut his toe with the razor paring his -corns afraid hed get bloodpoisoning but if it was a thing I was sick then -wed see what attention only of course the woman hides it not to give all -the trouble they do yes he came somewhere Im sure by his appetite anyway -love its not or hed be off his feed thinking of her so either it was one -of those night women if it was down there he was really and the hotel -story he made up a pack of lies to hide it planning it Hynes kept me who -did I meet ah yes I met do you remember Menton and who else who let me -see that big babbyface I saw him and he not long married flirting with a -young girl at Pooles Myriorama and turned my back on him when he slinked -out looking quite conscious what harm but he had the impudence to make up -to me one time well done to him mouth almighty and his boiled eyes of all -the big stupoes I ever met and thats called a solicitor only for I hate -having a long wrangle in bed or else if its not that its some little -bitch or other he got in with somewhere or picked up on the sly if they -only knew him as well as I do yes because the day before yesterday he was -scribbling something a letter when I came into the front room to show him -Dignams death in the paper as if something told me and he covered it up -with the blottingpaper pretending to be thinking about business so very -probably that was it to somebody who thinks she has a softy in him -because all men get a bit like that at his age especially getting on to -forty he is now so as to wheedle any money she can out of him no fool -like an old fool and then the usual kissing my bottom was to hide it not -that I care two straws now who he does it with or knew before that way -though Id like to find out so long as I dont have the two of them under -my nose all the time like that slut that Mary we had in Ontario terrace -padding out her false bottom to excite him bad enough to get the smell of -those painted women off him once or twice I had a suspicion by getting -him to come near me when I found the long hair on his coat without that -one when I went into the kitchen pretending he was drinking water woman -is not enough for them it was all his fault of course ruining servants -then proposing that she could eat at our table on Christmas day if you -please O no thank you not in my house stealing my potatoes and the -oysters / per doz going out to see her aunt if you please common -robbery so it was but I was sure he had something on with that one it -takes me to find out a thing like that he said you have no proof it was -her proof O yes her aunt was very fond of oysters but I told her what I -thought of her suggesting me to go out to be alone with her I wouldnt -lower myself to spy on them the garters I found in her room the Friday -she was out that was enough for me a little bit too much her face swelled -up on her with temper when I gave her her weeks notice I saw to that -better do without them altogether do out the rooms myself quicker only -for the damn cooking and throwing out the dirt I gave it to him anyhow -either she or me leaves the house I couldnt even touch him if I thought -he was with a dirty barefaced liar and sloven like that one denying it up -to my face and singing about the place in the W C too because she knew -she was too well off yes because he couldnt possibly do without it that -long so he must do it somewhere and the last time he came on my bottom -when was it the night Boylan gave my hand a great squeeze going along by -the Tolka in my hand there steals another I just pressed the back of his -like that with my thumb to squeeze back singing the young May moon shes -beaming love because he has an idea about him and me hes not such a fool -he said Im dining out and going to the Gaiety though Im not going to give -him the satisfaction in any case God knows hes a change in a way not to -be always and ever wearing the same old hat unless I paid some -nicelooking boy to do it since I cant do it myself a young boy would like -me Id confuse him a little alone with him if we were Id let him see my -garters the new ones and make him turn red looking at him seduce him I -know what boys feel with that down on their cheek doing that frigging -drawing out the thing by the hour question and answer would you do this -that and the other with the coalman yes with a bishop yes I would because -I told him about some dean or bishop was sitting beside me in the jews -temples gardens when I was knitting that woollen thing a stranger to -Dublin what place was it and so on about the monuments and he tired me -out with statues encouraging him making him worse than he is who is in -your mind now tell me who are you thinking of who is it tell me his name -who tell me who the german Emperor is it yes imagine Im him think of him -can you feel him trying to make a whore of me what he never will he ought -to give it up now at this age of his life simply ruination for any woman -and no satisfaction in it pretending to like it till he comes and then -finish it off myself anyway and it makes your lips pale anyhow its done -now once and for all with all the talk of the world about it people make -its only the first time after that its just the ordinary do it and think -no more about it why cant you kiss a man without going and marrying him -first you sometimes love to wildly when you feel that way so nice all -over you you cant help yourself I wish some man or other would take me -sometime when hes there and kiss me in his arms theres nothing like a -kiss long and hot down to your soul almost paralyses you then I hate that -confession when I used to go to Father Corrigan he touched me father and -what harm if he did where and I said on the canal bank like a fool but -whereabouts on your person my child on the leg behind high up was it yes -rather high up was it where you sit down yes O Lord couldnt he say bottom -right out and have done with it what has that got to do with it and did -you whatever way he put it I forget no father and I always think of the -real father what did he want to know for when I already confessed it to -God he had a nice fat hand the palm moist always I wouldnt mind feeling -it neither would he Id say by the bullneck in his horsecollar I wonder -did he know me in the box I could see his face he couldnt see mine of -course hed never turn or let on still his eyes were red when his father -died theyre lost for a woman of course must be terrible when a man cries -let alone them Id like to be embraced by one in his vestments and the -smell of incense off him like the pope besides theres no danger with a -priest if youre married hes too careful about himself then give something -to H H the pope for a penance I wonder was he satisfied with me one thing -I didnt like his slapping me behind going away so familiarly in the hall -though I laughed Im not a horse or an ass am I I suppose he was thinking -of his fathers I wonder is he awake thinking of me or dreaming am I in it -who gave him that flower he said he bought he smelt of some kind of drink -not whisky or stout or perhaps the sweety kind of paste they stick their -bills up with some liqueur Id like to sip those richlooking green and -yellow expensive drinks those stagedoor johnnies drink with the opera -hats I tasted once with my finger dipped out of that American that had -the squirrel talking stamps with father he had all he could do to keep -himself from falling asleep after the last time after we took the port -and potted meat it had a fine salty taste yes because I felt lovely and -tired myself and fell asleep as sound as a top the moment I popped -straight into bed till that thunder woke me up God be merciful to us I -thought the heavens were coming down about us to punish us when I blessed -myself and said a Hail Mary like those awful thunderbolts in Gibraltar as -if the world was coming to an end and then they come and tell you theres -no God what could you do if it was running and rushing about nothing only -make an act of contrition the candle I lit that evening in Whitefriars -street chapel for the month of May see it brought its luck though hed -scoff if he heard because he never goes to church mass or meeting he says -your soul you have no soul inside only grey matter because he doesnt know -what it is to have one yes when I lit the lamp because he must have come - or times with that tremendous big red brute of a thing he has I -thought the vein or whatever the dickens they call it was going to burst -though his nose is not so big after I took off all my things with the -blinds down after my hours dressing and perfuming and combing it like -iron or some kind of a thick crowbar standing all the time he must have -eaten oysters I think a few dozen he was in great singing voice no I -never in all my life felt anyone had one the size of that to make you -feel full up he must have eaten a whole sheep after whats the idea making -us like that with a big hole in the middle of us or like a Stallion -driving it up into you because thats all they want out of you with that -determined vicious look in his eye I had to halfshut my eyes still he -hasnt such a tremendous amount of spunk in him when I made him pull out -and do it on me considering how big it is so much the better in case any -of it wasnt washed out properly the last time I let him finish it in me -nice invention they made for women for him to get all the pleasure but if -someone gave them a touch of it themselves theyd know what I went through -with Milly nobody would believe cutting her teeth too and Mina Purefoys -husband give us a swing out of your whiskers filling her up with a child -or twins once a year as regular as the clock always with a smell of -children off her the one they called budgers or something like a nigger -with a shock of hair on it Jesusjack the child is a black the last time I -was there a squad of them falling over one another and bawling you -couldnt hear your ears supposed to be healthy not satisfied till they -have us swollen out like elephants or I dont know what supposing I risked -having another not off him though still if he was married Im sure hed -have a fine strong child but I dont know Poldy has more spunk in him yes -thatd be awfully jolly I suppose it was meeting Josie Powell and the -funeral and thinking about me and Boylan set him off well he can think -what he likes now if thatll do him any good I know they were spooning a -bit when I came on the scene he was dancing and sitting out with her the -night of Georgina Simpsons housewarming and then he wanted to ram it down -my neck it was on account of not liking to see her a wallflower that was -why we had the standup row over politics he began it not me when he said -about Our Lord being a carpenter at last he made me cry of course a woman -is so sensitive about everything I was fuming with myself after for -giving in only for I knew he was gone on me and the first socialist he -said He was he annoyed me so much I couldnt put him into a temper still -he knows a lot of mixedup things especially about the body and the inside -I often wanted to study up that myself what we have inside us in that -family physician I could always hear his voice talking when the room was -crowded and watch him after that I pretended I had a coolness on with her -over him because he used to be a bit on the jealous side whenever he -asked who are you going to and I said over to Floey and he made me the -present of Byron's poems and the three pairs of gloves so that finished -that I could quite easily get him to make it up any time I know how Id -even supposing he got in with her again and was going out to see her -somewhere Id know if he refused to eat the onions I know plenty of ways -ask him to tuck down the collar of my blouse or touch him with my veil -and gloves on going out I kiss then would send them all spinning however -alright well see then let him go to her she of course would only be too -delighted to pretend shes mad in love with him that I wouldnt so much -mind Id just go to her and ask her do you love him and look her square in -the eyes she couldnt fool me but he might imagine he was and make a -declaration to her with his plabbery kind of a manner like he did to me -though I had the devils own job to get it out of him though I liked him -for that it showed he could hold in and wasnt to be got for the asking he -was on the pop of asking me too the night in the kitchen I was rolling -the potato cake theres something I want to say to you only for I put him -off letting on I was in a temper with my hands and arms full of pasty -flour in any case I let out too much the night before talking of dreams -so I didnt want to let him know more than was good for him she used to be -always embracing me Josie whenever he was there meaning him of course -glauming me over and when I said I washed up and down as far as possible -asking me and did you wash possible the women are always egging on to -that putting it on thick when hes there they know by his sly eye blinking -a bit putting on the indifferent when they come out with something the -kind he is what spoils him I dont wonder in the least because he was very -handsome at that time trying to look like Lord Byron I said I liked -though he was too beautiful for a man and he was a little before we got -engaged afterwards though she didnt like it so much the day I was in fits -of laughing with the giggles I couldnt stop about all my hairpins falling -out one after another with the mass of hair I had youre always in great -humour she said yes because it grigged her because she knew what it meant -because I used to tell her a good bit of what went on between us not all -but just enough to make her mouth water but that wasnt my fault she didnt -darken the door much after we were married I wonder what shes got like -now after living with that dotty husband of hers she had her face -beginning to look drawn and run down the last time I saw her she must -have been just after a row with him because I saw on the moment she was -edging to draw down a conversation about husbands and talk about him to -run him down what was it she told me O yes that sometimes he used to go -to bed with his muddy boots on when the maggot takes him just imagine -having to get into bed with a thing like that that might murder you any -moment what a man well its not the one way everyone goes mad Poldy anyhow -whatever he does always wipes his feet on the mat when he comes in wet or -shine and always blacks his own boots too and he always takes off his hat -when he comes up in the street like then and now hes going about in his -slippers to look for pounds for a postcard U p up O sweetheart May -wouldnt a thing like that simply bore you stiff to extinction actually -too stupid even to take his boots off now what could you make of a man -like that Id rather die times over than marry another of their sex of -course hed never find another woman like me to put up with him the way I -do know me come sleep with me yes and he knows that too at the bottom of -his heart take that Mrs Maybrick that poisoned her husband for what I -wonder in love with some other man yes it was found out on her wasnt she -the downright villain to go and do a thing like that of course some men -can be dreadfully aggravating drive you mad and always the worst word in -the world what do they ask us to marry them for if were so bad as all -that comes to yes because they cant get on without us white Arsenic she -put in his tea off flypaper wasnt it I wonder why they call it that if I -asked him hed say its from the Greek leave us as wise as we were before -she must have been madly in love with the other fellow to run the chance -of being hanged O she didnt care if that was her nature what could she do -besides theyre not brutes enough to go and hang a woman surely are they -theyre all so different Boylan talking about the shape of my foot he -noticed at once even before he was introduced when I was in the D B C -with Poldy laughing and trying to listen I was waggling my foot we both -ordered teas and plain bread and butter I saw him looking with his two -old maids of sisters when I stood up and asked the girl where it was what -do I care with it dropping out of me and that black closed breeches he -made me buy takes you half an hour to let them down wetting all myself -always with some brandnew fad every other week such a long one I did I -forgot my suede gloves on the seat behind that I never got after some -robber of a woman and he wanted me to put it in the Irish times lost in -the ladies lavatory D B C Dame street finder return to Mrs Marion Bloom -and I saw his eyes on my feet going out through the turning door he was -looking when I looked back and I went there for tea days after in the -hope but he wasnt now how did that excite him because I was crossing them -when we were in the other room first he meant the shoes that are too -tight to walk in my hand is nice like that if I only had a ring with the -stone for my month a nice aquamarine Ill stick him for one and a gold -bracelet I dont like my foot so much still I made him spend once with my -foot the night after Goodwins botchup of a concert so cold and windy it -was well we had that rum in the house to mull and the fire wasnt black -out when he asked to take off my stockings lying on the hearthrug in -Lombard street west and another time it was my muddy boots hed like me to -walk in all the horses dung I could find but of course hes not natural -like the rest of the world that I what did he say I could give points -in to Katty Lanner and beat her what does that mean I asked him I -forget what he said because the stoppress edition just passed and the man -with the curly hair in the Lucan dairy thats so polite I think I saw his -face before somewhere I noticed him when I was tasting the butter so I -took my time Bartell dArcy too that he used to make fun of when he -commenced kissing me on the choir stairs after I sang Gounods AVE MARIA -what are we waiting for O my heart kiss me straight on the brow and part -which is my brown part he was pretty hot for all his tinny voice too my -low notes he was always raving about if you can believe him I liked the -way he used his mouth singing then he said wasnt it terrible to do that -there in a place like that I dont see anything so terrible about it Ill -tell him about that some day not now and surprise him ay and Ill take him -there and show him the very place too we did it so now there you are like -it or lump it he thinks nothing can happen without him knowing he hadnt -an idea about my mother till we were engaged otherwise hed never have got -me so cheap as he did he was times worse himself anyhow begging me to -give him a tiny bit cut off my drawers that was the evening coming along -Kenilworth square he kissed me in the eye of my glove and I had to take -it off asking me questions is it permitted to enquire the shape of my -bedroom so I let him keep it as if I forgot it to think of me when I saw -him slip it into his pocket of course hes mad on the subject of drawers -thats plain to be seen always skeezing at those brazenfaced things on the -bicycles with their skirts blowing up to their navels even when Milly and -I were out with him at the open air fete that one in the cream muslin -standing right against the sun so he could see every atom she had on when -he saw me from behind following in the rain I saw him before he saw me -however standing at the corner of the Harolds cross road with a new -raincoat on him with the muffler in the Zingari colours to show off his -complexion and the brown hat looking slyboots as usual what was he doing -there where hed no business they can go and get whatever they like from -anything at all with a skirt on it and were not to ask any questions but -they want to know where were you where are you going I could feel him -coming along skulking after me his eyes on my neck he had been keeping -away from the house he felt it was getting too warm for him so I -halfturned and stopped then he pestered me to say yes till I took off my -glove slowly watching him he said my openwork sleeves were too cold for -the rain anything for an excuse to put his hand anear me drawers drawers -the whole blessed time till I promised to give him the pair off my doll -to carry about in his waistcoat pocket O MARIA SANTISIMA he did look a -big fool dreeping in the rain splendid set of teeth he had made me hungry -to look at them and beseeched of me to lift the orange petticoat I had on -with the sunray pleats that there was nobody he said hed kneel down in -the wet if I didnt so persevering he would too and ruin his new raincoat -you never know what freak theyd take alone with you theyre so savage for -it if anyone was passing so I lifted them a bit and touched his trousers -outside the way I used to Gardner after with my ring hand to keep him -from doing worse where it was too public I was dying to find out was he -circumcised he was shaking like a jelly all over they want to do -everything too quick take all the pleasure out of it and father waiting -all the time for his dinner he told me to say I left my purse in the -butchers and had to go back for it what a Deceiver then he wrote me that -letter with all those words in it how could he have the face to any woman -after his company manners making it so awkward after when we met asking -me have I offended you with my eyelids down of course he saw I wasnt he -had a few brains not like that other fool Henny Doyle he was always -breaking or tearing something in the charades I hate an unlucky man and -if I knew what it meant of course I had to say no for form sake dont -understand you I said and wasnt it natural so it is of course it used to -be written up with a picture of a womans on that wall in Gibraltar with -that word I couldnt find anywhere only for children seeing it too young -then writing every morning a letter sometimes twice a day I liked the way -he made love then he knew the way to take a woman when he sent me the -big poppies because mine was the th then I wrote the night he kissed my -heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt describe it simply it makes you feel -like nothing on earth but he never knew how to embrace well like Gardner -I hope hell come on Monday as he said at the same time four I hate people -who come at all hours answer the door you think its the vegetables then -its somebody and you all undressed or the door of the filthy sloppy -kitchen blows open the day old frostyface Goodwin called about the -concert in Lombard street and I just after dinner all flushed and tossed -with boiling old stew dont look at me professor I had to say Im a fright -yes but he was a real old gent in his way it was impossible to be more -respectful nobody to say youre out you have to peep out through the blind -like the messengerboy today I thought it was a putoff first him sending -the port and the peaches first and I was just beginning to yawn with -nerves thinking he was trying to make a fool of me when I knew his -tattarrattat at the door he must have been a bit late because it was l/ -after when I saw the Dedalus girls coming from school I never know -the time even that watch he gave me never seems to go properly Id want to -get it looked after when I threw the penny to that lame sailor for -England home and beauty when I was whistling there is a charming girl I -love and I hadnt even put on my clean shift or powdered myself or a thing -then this day week were to go to Belfast just as well he has to go to -Ennis his fathers anniversary the th it wouldnt be pleasant if he did -suppose our rooms at the hotel were beside each other and any fooling -went on in the new bed I couldnt tell him to stop and not bother me with -him in the next room or perhaps some protestant clergyman with a cough -knocking on the wall then hed never believe the next day we didnt do -something its all very well a husband but you cant fool a lover after me -telling him we never did anything of course he didnt believe me no its -better hes going where he is besides something always happens with him -the time going to the Mallow concert at Maryborough ordering boiling soup -for the two of us then the bell rang out he walks down the platform with -the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it hadnt he the nerve and -the waiter after him making a holy show of us screeching and confusion -for the engine to start but he wouldnt pay till he finished it the two -gentlemen in the rd class carriage said he was quite right so he was too -hes so pigheaded sometimes when he gets a thing into his head a good job -he was able to open the carriage door with his knife or theyd have taken -us on to Cork I suppose that was done out of revenge on him O I love -jaunting in a train or a car with lovely soft cushions I wonder will he -take a st class for me he might want to do it in the train by tipping -the guard well O I suppose therell be the usual idiots of men gaping at -us with their eyes as stupid as ever they can possibly be that was an -exceptional man that common workman that left us alone in the carriage -that day going to Howth Id like to find out something about him l or -tunnels perhaps then you have to look out of the window all the nicer -then coming back suppose I never came back what would they say eloped -with him that gets you on on the stage the last concert I sang at where -its over a year ago when was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits -of missies they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her like on account -of father being in the army and my singing the absentminded beggar and -wearing a brooch for Lord Roberts when I had the map of it all and Poldy -not Irish enough was it him managed it this time I wouldnt put it past -him like he got me on to sing in the STABAT MATER by going around saying -he was putting Lead Kindly Light to music I put him up to that till the -jesuits found out he was a freemason thumping the piano lead Thou me on -copied from some old opera yes and he was going about with some of them -Sinner Fein lately or whatever they call themselves talking his usual -trash and nonsense he says that little man he showed me without the neck -is very intelligent the coming man Griffiths is he well he doesnt look it -thats all I can say still it must have been him he knew there was a -boycott I hate the mention of their politics after the war that Pretoria -and Ladysmith and Bloemfontein where Gardner lieut Stanley G th Bn nd -East Lancs Rgt of enteric fever he was a lovely fellow in khaki and just -the right height over me Im sure he was brave too he said I was lovely -the evening we kissed goodbye at the canal lock my Irish beauty he was -pale with excitement about going away or wed be seen from the road he -couldnt stand properly and I so hot as I never felt they could have made -their peace in the beginning or old oom Paul and the rest of the other -old Krugers go and fight it out between them instead of dragging on for -years killing any finelooking men there were with their fever if he was -even decently shot it wouldnt have been so bad I love to see a regiment -pass in review the first time I saw the Spanish cavalry at La Roque it -was lovely after looking across the bay from Algeciras all the lights of -the rock like fireflies or those sham battles on the acres the Black -Watch with their kilts in time at the march past the th hussars the -prince of Wales own or the lancers O the lancers theyre grand or the -Dublins that won Tugela his father made his money over selling the horses -for the cavalry well he could buy me a nice present up in Belfast after -what I gave him theyve lovely linen up there or one of those nice kimono -things I must buy a mothball like I had before to keep in the drawer with -them it would be exciting going round with him shopping buying those -things in a new city better leave this ring behind want to keep turning -and turning to get it over the knuckle there or they might bell it round -the town in their papers or tell the police on me but theyd think were -married O let them all go and smother themselves for the fat lot I care -he has plenty of money and hes not a marrying man so somebody better get -it out of him if I could find out whether he likes me I looked a bit -washy of course when I looked close in the handglass powdering a mirror -never gives you the expression besides scrooching down on me like that -all the time with his big hipbones hes heavy too with his hairy chest for -this heat always having to lie down for them better for him put it into -me from behind the way Mrs Mastiansky told me her husband made her like -the dogs do it and stick out her tongue as far as ever she could and he -so quiet and mild with his tingating cither can you ever be up to men the -way it takes them lovely stuff in that blue suit he had on and stylish -tie and socks with the skyblue silk things on them hes certainly well off -I know by the cut his clothes have and his heavy watch but he was like a -perfect devil for a few minutes after he came back with the stoppress -tearing up the tickets and swearing blazes because he lost quid he -said he lost over that outsider that won and half he put on for me on -account of Lenehans tip cursing him to the lowest pits that sponger he -was making free with me after the Glencree dinner coming back that long -joult over the featherbed mountain after the lord Mayor looking at me -with his dirty eyes Val Dillon that big heathen I first noticed him at -dessert when I was cracking the nuts with my teeth I wished I could have -picked every morsel of that chicken out of my fingers it was so tasty and -browned and as tender as anything only for I didnt want to eat everything -on my plate those forks and fishslicers were hallmarked silver too I wish -I had some I could easily have slipped a couple into my muff when I was -playing with them then always hanging out of them for money in a -restaurant for the bit you put down your throat we have to be thankful -for our mangy cup of tea itself as a great compliment to be noticed the -way the world is divided in any case if its going to go on I want at -least two other good chemises for one thing and but I dont know what kind -of drawers he likes none at all I think didnt he say yes and half the -girls in Gibraltar never wore them either naked as God made them that -Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt make much secret of what she -hadnt yes and the second pair of silkette stockings is laddered after one -days wear I could have brought them back to Lewers this morning and -kicked up a row and made that one change them only not to upset myself -and run the risk of walking into him and ruining the whole thing and one -of those kidfitting corsets Id want advertised cheap in the Gentlewoman -with elastic gores on the hips he saved the one I have but thats no good -what did they say they give a delightful figure line / obviating that -unsightly broad appearance across the lower back to reduce flesh my belly -is a bit too big Ill have to knock off the stout at dinner or am I -getting too fond of it the last they sent from ORourkes was as flat as a -pancake he makes his money easy Larry they call him the old mangy parcel -he sent at Xmas a cottage cake and a bottle of hogwash he tried to palm -off as claret that he couldnt get anyone to drink God spare his spit for -fear hed die of the drouth or I must do a few breathing exercises I -wonder is that antifat any good might overdo it the thin ones are not so -much the fashion now garters that much I have the violet pair I wore -today thats all he bought me out of the cheque he got on the first O no -there was the face lotion I finished the last of yesterday that made my -skin like new I told him over and over again get that made up in the same -place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did after all I said -to him Ill know by the bottle anyway if not I suppose Ill only have to -wash in my piss like beeftea or chickensoup with some of that opoponax -and violet I thought it was beginning to look coarse or old a bit the -skin underneath is much finer where it peeled off there on my finger -after the burn its a pity it isnt all like that and the four paltry -handkerchiefs about / in all sure you cant get on in this world without -style all going in food and rent when I get it Ill lash it around I tell -you in fine style I always want to throw a handful of tea into the pot -measuring and mincing if I buy a pair of old brogues itself do you like -those new shoes yes how much were they Ive no clothes at all the brown -costume and the skirt and jacket and the one at the cleaners whats that -for any woman cutting up this old hat and patching up the other the men -wont look at you and women try to walk on you because they know youve no -man then with all the things getting dearer every day for the years -more I have of life up to no Im what am I at all Ill be in -September will I what O well look at that Mrs Galbraith shes much older -than me I saw her when I was out last week her beautys on the wane she -was a lovely woman magnificent head of hair on her down to her waist -tossing it back like that like Kitty OShea in Grantham street st thing I -did every morning to look across see her combing it as if she loved it -and was full of it pity I only got to know her the day before we left and -that Mrs Langtry the jersey lily the prince of Wales was in love with I -suppose hes like the first man going the roads only for the name of a -king theyre all made the one way only a black mans Id like to try a -beauty up to what was she there was some funny story about the jealous -old husband what was it at all and an oyster knife he went no he made her -wear a kind of a tin thing round her and the prince of Wales yes he had -the oyster knife cant be true a thing like that like some of those books -he brings me the works of Master Francois Somebody supposed to be a -priest about a child born out of her ear because her bumgut fell out a -nice word for any priest to write and her ae as if any fool wouldnt -know what that meant I hate that pretending of all things with that old -blackguards face on him anybody can see its not true and that Ruby and -Fair Tyrants he brought me that twice I remember when I came to page -the part about where she hangs him up out of a hook with a cord -flagellate sure theres nothing for a woman in that all invention made up -about he drinking the champagne out of her slipper after the ball was -over like the infant Jesus in the crib at Inchicore in the Blessed -Virgins arms sure no woman could have a child that big taken out of her -and I thought first it came out of her side because how could she go to -the chamber when she wanted to and she a rich lady of course she felt -honoured H R H he was in Gibraltar the year I was born I bet he found -lilies there too where he planted the tree he planted more than that in -his time he might have planted me too if hed come a bit sooner then I -wouldnt be here as I am he ought to chuck that Freeman with the paltry -few shillings he knocks out of it and go into an office or something -where hed get regular pay or a bank where they could put him up on a -throne to count the money all the day of course he prefers plottering -about the house so you cant stir with him any side whats your programme -today I wish hed even smoke a pipe like father to get the smell of a man -or pretending to be mooching about for advertisements when he could have -been in Mr Cuffes still only for what he did then sending me to try and -patch it up I could have got him promoted there to be the manager he gave -me a great mirada once or twice first he was as stiff as the mischief -really and truly Mrs Bloom only I felt rotten simply with the old -rubbishy dress that I lost the leads out of the tails with no cut in it -but theyre coming into fashion again I bought it simply to please him I -knew it was no good by the finish pity I changed my mind of going to Todd -and Bums as I said and not Lees it was just like the shop itself rummage -sale a lot of trash I hate those rich shops get on your nerves nothing -kills me altogether only he thinks he knows a great lot about a womans -dress and cooking mathering everything he can scour off the shelves into -it if I went by his advices every blessed hat I put on does that suit me -yes take that thats alright the one like a weddingcake standing up miles -off my head he said suited me or the dishcover one coming down on my -backside on pins and needles about the shopgirl in that place in Grafton -street I had the misfortune to bring him into and she as insolent as ever -she could be with her smirk saying Im afraid were giving you too much -trouble what shes there for but I stared it out of her yes he was awfully -stiff and no wonder but he changed the second time he looked Poldy -pigheaded as usual like the soup but I could see him looking very hard at -my chest when he stood up to open the door for me it was nice of him to -show me out in any case Im extremely sorry Mrs Bloom believe me without -making it too marked the first time after him being insulted and me being -supposed to be his wife I just half smiled I know my chest was out that -way at the door when he said Im extremely sorry and Im sure you were -yes I think he made them a bit firmer sucking them like that so long he -made me thirsty titties he calls them I had to laugh yes this one anyhow -stiff the nipple gets for the least thing Ill get him to keep that up and -Ill take those eggs beaten up with marsala fatten them out for him what -are all those veins and things curious the way its made the same in -case of twins theyre supposed to represent beauty placed up there like -those statues in the museum one of them pretending to hide it with her -hand are they so beautiful of course compared with what a man looks like -with his two bags full and his other thing hanging down out of him or -sticking up at you like a hatrack no wonder they hide it with a -cabbageleaf that disgusting Cameron highlander behind the meat market or -that other wretch with the red head behind the tree where the statue of -the fish used to be when I was passing pretending he was pissing standing -out for me to see it with his babyclothes up to one side the Queens own -they were a nice lot its well the Surreys relieved them theyre always -trying to show it to you every time nearly I passed outside the mens -greenhouse near the Harcourt street station just to try some fellow or -other trying to catch my eye as if it was I of the wonders of the world -O and the stink of those rotten places the night coming home with Poldy -after the Comerfords party oranges and lemonade to make you feel nice and -watery I went into r of them it was so biting cold I couldnt keep it when -was that the canal was frozen yes it was a few months after a pity a -couple of the Camerons werent there to see me squatting in the mens place -meadero I tried to draw a picture of it before I tore it up like a -sausage or something I wonder theyre not afraid going about of getting a -kick or a bang of something there the woman is beauty of course thats -admitted when he said I could pose for a picture naked to some rich -fellow in Holles street when he lost the job in Helys and I was selling -the clothes and strumming in the coffee palace would I be like that bath -of the nymph with my hair down yes only shes younger or Im a little like -that dirty bitch in that Spanish photo he has nymphs used they go about -like that I asked him about her and that word met something with hoses in -it and he came out with some jawbreakers about the incarnation he never -can explain a thing simply the way a body can understand then he goes and -burns the bottom out of the pan all for his Kidney this one not so much -theres the mark of his teeth still where he tried to bite the nipple I -had to scream out arent they fearful trying to hurt you I had a great -breast of milk with Milly enough for two what was the reason of that he -said I could have got a pound a week as a wet nurse all swelled out the -morning that delicate looking student that stopped in no with the -Citrons Penrose nearly caught me washing through the window only for I -snapped up the towel to my face that was his studenting hurt me they used -to weaning her till he got doctor Brady to give me the belladonna -prescription I had to get him to suck them they were so hard he said it -was sweeter and thicker than cows then he wanted to milk me into the tea -well hes beyond everything I declare somebody ought to put him in the -budget if I only could remember the I half of the things and write a book -out of it the works of Master Poldy yes and its so much smoother the skin -much an hour he was at them Im sure by the clock like some kind of a big -infant I had at me they want everything in their mouth all the pleasure -those men get out of a woman I can feel his mouth O Lord I must stretch -myself I wished he was here or somebody to let myself go with and come -again like that I feel all fire inside me or if I could dream it when he -made me spend the nd time tickling me behind with his finger I was -coming for about minutes with my legs round him I had to hug him after -O Lord I wanted to shout out all sorts of things fuck or shit or anything -at all only not to look ugly or those lines from the strain who knows the -way hed take it you want to feel your way with a man theyre not all like -him thank God some of them want you to be so nice about it I noticed the -contrast he does it and doesnt talk I gave my eyes that look with my hair -a bit loose from the tumbling and my tongue between my lips up to him the -savage brute Thursday Friday one Saturday two Sunday three O Lord I cant -wait till Monday -frseeeeeeeefronnnng train somewhere whistling the strength those engines -have in them like big giants and the water rolling all over and out of -them all sides like the end of Loves old sweeeetsonnnng the poor men that -have to be out all the night from their wives and families in those -roasting engines stifling it was today Im glad I burned the half of those -old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that lying about hes -getting very careless and threw the rest of them up in the W C Ill get -him to cut them tomorrow for me instead of having them there for the next -year to get a few pence for them have him asking wheres last Januarys -paper and all those old overcoats I bundled out of the hall making the -place hotter than it is that rain was lovely and refreshing just after my -beauty sleep I thought it was going to get like Gibraltar my goodness the -heat there before the levanter came on black as night and the glare of -the rock standing up in it like a big giant compared with their Rock -mountain they think is so great with the red sentries here and there the -poplars and they all whitehot and the smell of the rainwater in those -tanks watching the sun all the time weltering down on you faded all that -lovely frock fathers friend Mrs Stanhope sent me from the B Marche paris -what a shame my dearest Doggerina she wrote on it she was very nice whats -this her other name was just a p c to tell you I sent the little present -have just had a jolly warm bath and feel a very clean dog now enjoyed it -wogger she called him wogger wd give anything to be back in Gib and hear -you sing Waiting and in old Madrid Concone is the name of those exercises -he bought me one of those new some word I couldnt make out shawls amusing -things but tear for the least thing still there lovely I think dont you -will always think of the lovely teas we had together scrumptious currant -scones and raspberry wafers I adore well now dearest Doggerina be sure -and write soon kind she left out regards to your father also captain -Grove with love yrs affly Hester x x x x x she didnt look a bit married -just like a girl he was years older than her wogger he was awfully fond -of me when he held down the wire with his foot for me to step over at the -bullfight at La Linea when that matador Gomez was given the bulls ear -these clothes we have to wear whoever invented them expecting you to walk -up Killiney hill then for example at that picnic all staysed up you cant -do a blessed thing in them in a crowd run or jump out of the way thats -why I was afraid when that other ferocious old Bull began to charge the -banderilleros with the sashes and the things in their hats and the -brutes of men shouting bravo toro sure the women were as bad in their -nice white mantillas ripping all the whole insides out of those poor -horses I never heard of such a thing in all my life yes he used to break -his heart at me taking off the dog barking in bell lane poor brute and it -sick what became of them ever I suppose theyre dead long ago the of -them its like all through a mist makes you feel so old I made the scones -of course I had everything all to myself then a girl Hester we used to -compare our hair mine was thicker than hers she showed me how to settle -it at the back when I put it up and whats this else how to make a knot on -a thread with the one hand we were like cousins what age was I then the -night of the storm I slept in her bed she had her arms round me then we -were fighting in the morning with the pillow what fun he was watching me -whenever he got an opportunity at the band on the Alameda esplanade when -I was with father and captain Grove I looked up at the church first and -then at the windows then down and our eyes met I felt something go -through me like all needles my eyes were dancing I remember after when I -looked at myself in the glass hardly recognised myself the change he was -attractive to a girl in spite of his being a little bald intelligent -looking disappointed and gay at the same time he was like Thomas in the -shadow of Ashlydyat I had a splendid skin from the sun and the excitement -like a rose I didnt get a wink of sleep it wouldnt have been nice on -account of her but I could have stopped it in time she gave me the -Moonstone to read that was the first I read of Wilkie Collins East Lynne -I read and the shadow of Ashlydyat Mrs Henry Wood Henry Dunbar by that -other woman I lent him afterwards with Mulveys photo in it so as he see I -wasnt without and Lord Lytton Eugene Aram Molly bawn she gave me by Mrs -Hungerford on account of the name I dont like books with a Molly in them -like that one he brought me about the one from Flanders a whore always -shoplifting anything she could cloth and stuff and yards of it O this -blanket is too heavy on me thats better I havent even one decent -nightdress this thing gets all rolled under me besides him and his -fooling thats better I used to be weltering then in the heat my shift -drenched with the sweat stuck in the cheeks of my bottom on the chair -when I stood up they were so fattish and firm when I got up on the sofa -cushions to see with my clothes up and the bugs tons of them at night and -the mosquito nets I couldnt read a line Lord how long ago it seems -centuries of course they never came back and she didnt put her address -right on it either she may have noticed her wogger people were always -going away and we never I remember that day with the waves and the boats -with their high heads rocking and the smell of ship those Officers -uniforms on shore leave made me seasick he didnt say anything he was very -serious I had the high buttoned boots on and my skirt was blowing she -kissed me six or seven times didnt I cry yes I believe I did or near it -my lips were taittering when I said goodbye she had a Gorgeous wrap of -some special kind of blue colour on her for the voyage made very -peculiarly to one side like and it was extremely pretty it got as dull as -the devil after they went I was almost planning to run away mad out of it -somewhere were never easy where we are father or aunt or marriage waiting -always waiting to guiiiide him toooo me waiting nor speeeed his flying -feet their damn guns bursting and booming all over the shop especially -the Queens birthday and throwing everything down in all directions if you -didnt open the windows when general Ulysses Grant whoever he was or did -supposed to be some great fellow landed off the ship and old Sprague the -consul that was there from before the flood dressed up poor man and he in -mourning for the son then the same old bugles for reveille in the morning -and drums rolling and the unfortunate poor devils of soldiers walking -about with messtins smelling the place more than the old longbearded jews -in their jellibees and levites assembly and sound clear and gunfire for -the men to cross the lines and the warden marching with his keys to lock -the gates and the bagpipes and only captain Groves and father talking -about Rorkes drift and Plevna and sir Garnet Wolseley and Gordon at -Khartoum lighting their pipes for them everytime they went out drunken -old devil with his grog on the windowsill catch him leaving any of it -picking his nose trying to think of some other dirty story to tell up in -a corner but he never forgot himself when I was there sending me out of -the room on some blind excuse paying his compliments the Bushmills whisky -talking of course but hed do the same to the next woman that came along I -suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a -letter from a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself with bits -of paper in them so bored sometimes I could fight with my nails listening -to that old Arab with the one eye and his heass of an instrument singing -his heah heah aheah all my compriments on your hotchapotch of your heass -as bad as now with the hands hanging off me looking out of the window if -there was a nice fellow even in the opposite house that medical in Holles -street the nurse was after when I put on my gloves and hat at the window -to show I was going out not a notion what I meant arent they thick never -understand what you say even youd want to print it up on a big poster for -them not even if you shake hands twice with the left he didnt recognise -me either when I half frowned at him outside Westland row chapel where -does their great intelligence come in Id like to know grey matter they -have it all in their tail if you ask me those country gougers up in the -City Arms intelligence they had a damn sight less than the bulls and cows -they were selling the meat and the coalmans bell that noisy bugger trying -to swindle me with the wrong bill he took out of his hat what a pair of -paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a poor -man today and no visitors or post ever except his cheques or some -advertisement like that wonderworker they sent him addressed dear Madam -only his letter and the card from Milly this morning see she wrote a -letter to him who did I get the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what -possessed her to write from Canada after so many years to know the recipe -I had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote to say she was -married to a very rich architect if Im to believe all I hear with a villa -and eight rooms her father was an awfully nice man he was near seventy -always goodhumoured well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the -piannyer that was a solid silver coffee service he had too on the -mahogany sideboard then dying so far away I hate people that have always -their poor story to tell everybody has their own troubles that poor Nancy -Blake died a month ago of acute neumonia well I didnt know her so well as -all that she was Floeys friend more than mine poor Nancy its a bother -having to answer he always tells me the wrong things and no stops to say -like making a speech your sad bereavement symphathy I always make that -mistake and newphew with double yous in I hope hell write me a longer -letter the next time if its a thing he really likes me O thanks be to the -great God I got somebody to give me what I badly wanted to put some heart -up into me youve no chances at all in this place like you used long ago I -wish somebody would write me a loveletter his wasnt much and I told him -he could write what he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in old Madrid stuff -silly women believe love is sighing I am dying still if he wrote it I -suppose thered be some truth in it true or no it fills up your whole day -and life always something to think about every moment and see it all -round you like a new world I could write the answer in bed to let him -imagine me short just a few words not those long crossed letters Atty -Dillon used to write to the fellow that was something in the four courts -that jilted her after out of the ladies letterwriter when I told her to -say a few simple words he could twist how he liked not acting with -precipat precip itancy with equal candour the greatest earthly happiness -answer to a gentlemans proposal affirmatively my goodness theres nothing -else its all very fine for them but as for being a woman as soon as youre -old they might as well throw you out in the bottom of the ashpit. -Mulveys was the first when I was in bed that morning and Mrs Rubio -brought it in with the coffee she stood there standing when I asked her -to hand me and I pointing at them I couldnt think of the word a hairpin -to open it with ah horquilla disobliging old thing and it staring her in -the face with her switch of false hair on her and vain about her -appearance ugly as she was near or a her face a mass of wrinkles -with all her religion domineering because she never could get over the -Atlantic fleet coming in half the ships of the world and the Union Jack -flying with all her carabineros because drunken English sailors took -all the rock from them and because I didnt run into mass often enough in -Santa Maria to please her with her shawl up on her except when there was -a marriage on with all her miracles of the saints and her black blessed -virgin with the silver dress and the sun dancing times on Easter Sunday -morning and when the priest was going by with the bell bringing the -vatican to the dying blessing herself for his Majestad an admirer he -signed it I near jumped out of my skin I wanted to pick him up when I saw -him following me along the Calle Real in the shop window then he tipped -me just in passing but I never thought hed write making an appointment I -had it inside my petticoat bodice all day reading it up in every hole and -corner while father was up at the drill instructing to find out by the -handwriting or the language of stamps singing I remember shall I wear a -white rose and I wanted to put on the old stupid clock to near the time -he was the first man kissed me under the Moorish wall my sweetheart when -a boy it never entered my head what kissing meant till he put his tongue -in my mouth his mouth was sweetlike young I put my knee up to him a few -times to learn the way what did I tell him I was engaged for for fun to -the son of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de la Flora and he -believed me that I was to be married to him in years time theres many a -true word spoken in jest there is a flower that bloometh a few things I -told him true about myself just for him to be imagining the Spanish girls -he didnt like I suppose one of them wouldnt have him I got him excited he -crushed all the flowers on my bosom he brought me he couldnt count the -pesetas and the perragordas till I taught him Cappoquin he came from he -said on the black water but it was too short then the day before he left -May yes it was May when the infant king of Spain was born Im always like -that in the spring Id like a new fellow every year up on the tiptop under -the rockgun near OHaras tower I told him it was struck by lightning and -all about the old Barbary apes they sent to Clapham without a tail -careering all over the show on each others back Mrs Rubio said she was a -regular old rock scorpion robbing the chickens out of Inces farm and -throw stones at you if you went anear he was looking at me I had that -white blouse on open in the front to encourage him as much as I could -without too openly they were just beginning to be plump I said I was -tired we lay over the firtree cove a wild place I suppose it must be the -highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those frightful -rocks and Saint Michaels cave with the icicles or whatever they call them -hanging down and ladders all the mud plotching my boots Im sure thats the -way down the monkeys go under the sea to Africa when they die the ships -out far like chips that was the Malta boat passing yes the sea and the -sky you could do what you liked lie there for ever he caressed them -outside they love doing that its the roundness there I was leaning over -him with my white ricestraw hat to take the newness out of it the left -side of my face the best my blouse open for his last day transparent kind -of shirt he had I could see his chest pink he wanted to touch mine with -his for a moment but I wouldnt lee him he was awfully put out first for -fear you never know consumption or leave me with a child embarazada that -old servant Ines told me that one drop even if it got into you at all -after I tried with the Banana but I was afraid it might break and get -lost up in me somewhere because they once took something down out of a -woman that was up there for years covered with limesalts theyre all mad -to get in there where they come out of youd think they could never go far -enough up and then theyre done with you in a way till the next time yes -because theres a wonderful feeling there so tender all the time how did -we finish it off yes O yes I pulled him off into my handkerchief -pretending not to be excited but I opened my legs I wouldnt let him touch -me inside my petticoat because I had a skirt opening up the side I -tormented the life out of him first tickling him I loved rousing that dog -in the hotel rrrsssstt awokwokawok his eyes shut and a bird flying below -us he was shy all the same I liked him like that moaning I made him blush -a little when I got over him that way when I unbuttoned him and took his -out and drew back the skin it had a kind of eye in it theyre all Buttons -men down the middle on the wrong side of them Molly darling he called me -what was his name Jack Joe Harry Mulvey was it yes I think a lieutenant -he was rather fair he had a laughing kind of a voice so I went round to -the whatyoucallit everything was whatyoucallit moustache had he he said -hed come back Lord its just like yesterday to me and if I was married hed -do it to me and I promised him yes faithfully Id let him block me now -flying perhaps hes dead or killed or a captain or admiral its nearly -years if I said firtree cove he would if he came up behind me and put his -hands over my eyes to guess who I might recognise him hes young still -about perhaps hes married some girl on the black water and is quite -changed they all do they havent half the character a woman has she little -knows what I did with her beloved husband before he ever dreamt of her in -broad daylight too in the sight of the whole world you might say they -could have put an article about it in the Chronicle I was a bit wild -after when I blew out the old bag the biscuits were in from Benady Bros -and exploded it Lord what a bang all the woodcocks and pigeons screaming -coming back the same way that we went over middle hill round by the old -guardhouse and the jews burialplace pretending to read out the Hebrew on -them I wanted to fire his pistol he said he hadnt one he didnt know what -to make of me with his peak cap on that he always wore crooked as often -as I settled it straight H M S Calypso swinging my hat that old Bishop -that spoke off the altar his long preach about womans higher functions -about girls now riding the bicycle and wearing peak caps and the new -woman bloomers God send him sense and me more money I suppose theyre -called after him I never thought that would be my name Bloom when I used -to write it in print to see how it looked on a visiting card or -practising for the butcher and oblige M Bloom youre looking blooming -Josie used to say after I married him well its better than Breen or -Briggs does brig or those awful names with bottom in them Mrs Ramsbottom -or some other kind of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt go mad about either or -suppose I divorced him Mrs Boylan my mother whoever she was might have -given me a nicer name the Lord knows after the lovely one she had Lunita -Laredo the fun we had running along Williss road to Europa point twisting -in and out all round the other side of Jersey they were shaking and -dancing about in my blouse like Millys little ones now when she runs up -the stairs I loved looking down at them I was jumping up at the pepper -trees and the white poplars pulling the leaves off and throwing them at -him he went to India he was to write the voyages those men have to make -to the ends of the world and back its the least they might get a squeeze -or two at a woman while they can going out to be drowned or blown up -somewhere I went up Windmill hill to the flats that Sunday morning with -captain Rubios that was dead spyglass like the sentry had he said hed -have one or two from on board I wore that frock from the B Marche paris -and the coral necklace the straits shining I could see over to Morocco -almost the bay of Tangier white and the Atlas mountain with snow on it -and the straits like a river so clear Harry Molly darling I was thinking -of him on the sea all the time after at mass when my petticoat began to -slip down at the elevation weeks and weeks I kept the handkerchief under -my pillow for the smell of him there was no decent perfume to be got in -that Gibraltar only that cheap peau despagne that faded and left a stink -on you more than anything else I wanted to give him a memento he gave me -that clumsy Claddagh ring for luck that I gave Gardner going to south -Africa where those Boers killed him with their war and fever but they -were well beaten all the same as if it brought its bad luck with it like -an opal or pearl still it must have been pure carrot gold because it -was very heavy but what could you get in a place like that the sandfrog -shower from Africa and that derelict ship that came up to the harbour -Marie the Marie whatyoucallit no he hadnt a moustache that was Gardner -yes I can see his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that -train again weeping tone once in the dear deaead days beyondre call close -my eyes breath my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the -world the mists began I hate that istsbeg comes loves sweet -sooooooooooong Ill let that out full when I get in front of the -footlights again Kathleen Kearney and her lot of squealers Miss This Miss -That Miss Theother lot of sparrowfarts skitting around talking about -politics they know as much about as my backside anything in the world to -make themselves someway interesting Irish homemade beauties soldiers -daughter am I ay and whose are you bootmakers and publicans I beg your -pardon coach I thought you were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off -their feet if ever they got a chance of walking down the Alameda on an -officers arm like me on the bandnight my eyes flash my bust that they -havent passion God help their poor head I knew more about men and life -when I was I S than theyll all know at they dont know how to sing a -song like that Gardner said no man could look at my mouth and teeth -smiling like that and not think of it I was afraid he mightnt like my -accent first he so English all father left me in spite of his stamps Ive -my mothers eyes and figure anyhow he always said theyre so snotty about -themselves some of those cads he wasnt a bit like that he was dead gone -on my lips let them get a husband first thats fit to be looked at and a -daughter like mine or see if they can excite a swell with money that can -pick and choose whoever he wants like Boylan to do it or times locked -in each others arms or the voice either I could have been a prima donna -only I married him comes looooves old deep down chin back not too much -make it double My Ladys Bower is too long for an encore about the moated -grange at twilight and vaunted rooms yes Ill sing Winds that blow from -the south that he gave after the choirstairs performance Ill change that -lace on my black dress to show off my bubs and Ill yes by God Ill get -that big fan mended make them burst with envy my hole is itching me -always when I think of him I feel I want to I feel some wind in me better -go easy not wake him have him at it again slobbering after washing every -bit of myself back belly and sides if we had even a bath itself or my own -room anyway I wish hed sleep in some bed by himself with his cold feet on -me give us room even to let a fart God or do the least thing better yes -hold them like that a bit on my side piano quietly sweeeee theres that -train far away pianissimo eeeee one more song -that was a relief wherever you be let your wind go free who knows if that -pork chop I took with my cup of tea after was quite good with the heat I -couldnt smell anything off it Im sure that queerlooking man in the -porkbutchers is a great rogue I hope that lamp is not smoking fill my -nose up with smuts better than having him leaving the gas on all night I -couldnt rest easy in my bed in Gibraltar even getting up to see why am I -so damned nervous about that though I like it in the winter its more -company O Lord it was rotten cold too that winter when I was only about -ten was I yes I had the big doll with all the funny clothes dressing her -up and undressing that icy wind skeeting across from those mountains the -something Nevada sierra nevada standing at the fire with the little bit -of a short shift I had up to heat myself I loved dancing about in it then -make a race back into bed Im sure that fellow opposite used to be there -the whole time watching with the lights out in the summer and I in my -skin hopping around I used to love myself then stripped at the washstand -dabbing and creaming only when it came to the chamber performance I put -out the light too so then there were of us goodbye to my sleep for this -night anyhow I hope hes not going to get in with those medicals leading -him astray to imagine hes young again coming in at in the morning it -must be if not more still he had the manners not to wake me what do they -find to gabber about all night squandering money and getting drunker and -drunker couldnt they drink water then he starts giving us his orders for -eggs and tea and Findon haddy and hot buttered toast I suppose well have -him sitting up like the king of the country pumping the wrong end of the -spoon up and down in his egg wherever he learned that from and I love to -hear him falling up the stairs of a morning with the cups rattling on the -tray and then play with the cat she rubs up against you for her own sake -I wonder has she fleas shes as bad as a woman always licking and lecking -but I hate their claws I wonder do they see anything that we cant staring -like that when she sits at the top of the stairs so long and listening as -I wait always what a robber too that lovely fresh place I bought I think -Ill get a bit of fish tomorrow or today is it Friday yes I will with some -blancmange with black currant jam like long ago not those lb pots of -mixed plum and apple from the London and Newcastle Williams and Woods -goes twice as far only for the bones I hate those eels cod yes Ill get a -nice piece of cod Im always getting enough for forgetting anyway Im -sick of that everlasting butchers meat from Buckleys loin chops and leg -beef and rib steak and scrag of mutton and calfs pluck the very name is -enough or a picnic suppose we all gave / each and or let him pay it and -invite some other woman for him who Mrs Fleming and drove out to the -furry glen or the strawberry beds wed have him examining all the horses -toenails first like he does with the letters no not with Boylan there yes -with some cold veal and ham mixed sandwiches there are little houses down -at the bottom of the banks there on purpose but its as hot as blazes he -says not a bank holiday anyhow I hate those ruck of Mary Ann coalboxes -out for the day Whit Monday is a cursed day too no wonder that bee bit -him better the seaside but Id never again in this life get into a boat -with him after him at Bray telling the boatman he knew how to row if -anyone asked could he ride the steeplechase for the gold cup hed say yes -then it came on to get rough the old thing crookeding about and the -weight all down my side telling me pull the right reins now pull the left -and the tide all swamping in floods in through the bottom and his oar -slipping out of the stirrup its a mercy we werent all drowned he can swim -of course me no theres no danger whatsoever keep yourself calm in his -flannel trousers Id like to have tattered them down off him before all -the people and give him what that one calls flagellate till he was black -and blue do him all the good in the world only for that longnosed chap I -dont know who he is with that other beauty Burke out of the City Arms -hotel was there spying around as usual on the slip always where he wasnt -wanted if there was a row on youd vomit a better face there was no love -lost between us thats consolation I wonder what kind is that book he -brought me Sweets of Sin by a gentleman of fashion some other Mr de Kock -I suppose the people gave him that nickname going about with his tube -from one woman to another I couldnt even change my new white shoes all -ruined with the saltwater and the hat I had with that feather all blowy -and tossed on me how annoying and provoking because the smell of the sea -excited me of course the sardines and the bream in Catalan bay round the -back of the rock they were fine all silver in the fishermens baskets old -Luigi near a hundred they said came from Genoa and the tall old chap with -the earrings I dont like a man you have to climb up to to get at I -suppose theyre all dead and rotten long ago besides I dont like being -alone in this big barracks of a place at night I suppose Ill have to put -up with it I never brought a bit of salt in even when we moved in the -confusion musical academy he was going to make on the first floor -drawingroom with a brassplate or Blooms private hotel he suggested go and -ruin himself altogether the way his father did down in Ennis like all the -things he told father he was going to do and me but I saw through him -telling me all the lovely places we could go for the honeymoon Venice by -moonlight with the gondolas and the lake of Como he had a picture cut out -of some paper of and mandolines and lanterns O how nice I said whatever I -liked he was going to do immediately if not sooner will you be my man -will you carry my can he ought to get a leather medal with a putty rim -for all the plans he invents then leaving us here all day youd never know -what old beggar at the door for a crust with his long story might be a -tramp and put his foot in the way to prevent me shutting it like that -picture of that hardened criminal he was called in Lloyds Weekly news -years in jail then he comes out and murders an old woman for her money -imagine his poor wife or mother or whoever she is such a face youd run -miles away from I couldnt rest easy till I bolted all the doors and -windows to make sure but its worse again being locked up like in a prison -or a madhouse they ought to be all shot or the cat of nine tails a big -brute like that that would attack a poor old woman to murder her in her -bed Id cut them off him so I would not that hed be much use still better -than nothing the night I was sure I heard burglars in the kitchen and he -went down in his shirt with a candle and a poker as if he was looking for -a mouse as white as a sheet frightened out of his wits making as much -noise as he possibly could for the burglars benefit there isnt much to -steal indeed the Lord knows still its the feeling especially now with -Milly away such an idea for him to send the girl down there to learn to -take photographs on account of his grandfather instead of sending her to -Skerrys academy where shed have to learn not like me getting all IS at -school only hed do a thing like that all the same on account of me and -Boylan thats why he did it Im certain the way he plots and plans -everything out I couldnt turn round with her in the place lately unless I -bolted the door first gave me the fidgets coming in without knocking -first when I put the chair against the door just as I was washing myself -there below with the glove get on your nerves then doing the loglady all -day put her in a glasscase with two at a time to look at her if he knew -she broke off the hand off that little gimcrack statue with her roughness -and carelessness before she left that I got that little Italian boy to -mend so that you cant see the join for shillings wouldnt even teem the -potatoes for you of course shes right not to ruin her hands I noticed he -was always talking to her lately at the table explaining things in the -paper and she pretending to understand sly of course that comes from his -side of the house he cant say I pretend things can he Im too honest as a -matter of fact and helping her into her coat but if there was anything -wrong with her its me shed tell not him I suppose he thinks Im finished -out and laid on the shelf well Im not no nor anything like it well see -well see now shes well on for flirting too with Tom Devans two sons -imitating me whistling with those romps of Murray girls calling for her -can Milly come out please shes in great demand to pick what they can out -of her round in Nelson street riding Harry Devans bicycle at night its as -well he sent her where she is she was just getting out of bounds wanting -to go on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose -I smelt it off her dress when I was biting off the thread of the button I -sewed on to the bottom of her jacket she couldnt hide much from me I tell -you only I oughtnt to have stitched it and it on her it brings a parting -and the last plumpudding too split in halves see it comes out no matter -what they say her tongue is a bit too long for my taste your blouse is -open too low she says to me the pan calling the kettle blackbottom and I -had to tell her not to cock her legs up like that on show on the -windowsill before all the people passing they all look at her like me -when I was her age of course any old rag looks well on you then a great -touchmenot too in her own way at the Only Way in the Theatre royal take -your foot away out of that I hate people touching me afraid of her life -Id crush her skirt with the pleats a lot of that touching must go on in -theatres in the crush in the dark theyre always trying to wiggle up to -you that fellow in the pit at the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the -last time Ill ever go there to be squashed like that for any Trilby or -her barebum every two minutes tipping me there and looking away hes a bit -daft I think I saw him after trying to get near two stylishdressed ladies -outside Switzers window at the same little game I recognised him on the -moment the face and everything but he didnt remember me yes and she didnt -even want me to kiss her at the Broadstone going away well I hope shell -get someone to dance attendance on her the way I did when she was down -with the mumps and her glands swollen wheres this and wheres that of -course she cant feel anything deep yet I never came properly till I was -what or so it went into the wrong place always only the usual girls -nonsense and giggling that Conny Connolly writing to her in white ink on -black paper sealed with sealingwax though she clapped when the curtain -came down because he looked so handsome then we had Martin Harvey for -breakfast dinner and supper I thought to myself afterwards it must be -real love if a man gives up his life for her that way for nothing I -suppose there are a few men like that left its hard to believe in it -though unless it really happened to me the majority of them with not a -particle of love in their natures to find two people like that nowadays -full up of each other that would feel the same way as you do theyre -usually a bit foolish in the head his father must have been a bit queer -to go and poison himself after her still poor old man I suppose he felt -lost shes always making love to my things too the few old rags I have -wanting to put her hair up at I S my powder too only ruin her skin on her -shes time enough for that all her life after of course shes restless -knowing shes pretty with her lips so red a pity they wont stay that way I -was too but theres no use going to the fair with the thing answering me -like a fishwoman when I asked to go for a half a stone of potatoes the -day we met Mrs Joe Gallaher at the trottingmatches and she pretended not -to see us in her trap with Friery the solicitor we werent grand enough -till I gave her damn fine cracks across the ear for herself take that -now for answering me like that and that for your impudence she had me -that exasperated of course contradicting I was badtempered too because -how was it there was a weed in the tea or I didnt sleep the night before -cheese I ate was it and I told her over and over again not to leave -knives crossed like that because she has nobody to command her as she -said herself well if he doesnt correct her faith I will that was the last -time she turned on the teartap I was just like that myself they darent -order me about the place its his fault of course having the two of us -slaving here instead of getting in a woman long ago am I ever going to -have a proper servant again of course then shed see him coming Id have to -let her know or shed revenge it arent they a nuisance that old Mrs -Fleming you have to be walking round after her putting the things into -her hands sneezing and farting into the pots well of course shes old she -cant help it a good job I found that rotten old smelly dishcloth that got -lost behind the dresser I knew there was something and opened the area -window to let out the smell bringing in his friends to entertain them -like the night he walked home with a dog if you please that might have -been mad especially Simon Dedalus son his father such a criticiser with -his glasses up with his tall hat on him at the cricket match and a great -big hole in his sock one thing laughing at the other and his son that got -all those prizes for whatever he won them in the intermediate imagine -climbing over the railings if anybody saw him that knew us I wonder he -didnt tear a big hole in his grand funeral trousers as if the one nature -gave wasnt enough for anybody hawking him down into the dirty old kitchen -now is he right in his head I ask pity it wasnt washing day my old pair -of drawers might have been hanging up too on the line on exhibition for -all hed ever care with the ironmould mark the stupid old bundle burned on -them he might think was something else and she never even rendered down -the fat I told her and now shes going such as she was on account of her -paralysed husband getting worse theres always something wrong with them -disease or they have to go under an operation or if its not that its -drink and he beats her Ill have to hunt around again for someone every -day I get up theres some new thing on sweet God sweet God well when Im -stretched out dead in my grave I suppose Ill have some peace I want to -get up a minute if Im let wait O Jesus wait yes that thing has come on me -yes now wouldnt that afflict you of course all the poking and rooting and -ploughing he had up in me now what am I to do Friday Saturday Sunday -wouldnt that pester the soul out of a body unless he likes it some men do -God knows theres always something wrong with us days every or weeks -usual monthly auction isnt it simply sickening that night it came on me -like that the one and only time we were in a box that Michael Gunn gave -him to see Mrs Kendal and her husband at the Gaiety something he did -about insurance for him in Drimmies I was fit to be tied though I wouldnt -give in with that gentleman of fashion staring down at me with his -glasses and him the other side of me talking about Spinoza and his soul -thats dead I suppose millions of years ago I smiled the best I could all -in a swamp leaning forward as if I was interested having to sit it out -then to the last tag I wont forget that wife of Scarli in a hurry -supposed to be a fast play about adultery that idiot in the gallery -hissing the woman adulteress he shouted I suppose he went and had a woman -in the next lane running round all the back ways after to make up for it -I wish he had what I had then hed boo I bet the cat itself is better off -than us have we too much blood up in us or what O patience above its -pouring out of me like the sea anyhow he didnt make me pregnant as big as -he is I dont want to ruin the clean sheets I just put on I suppose the -clean linen I wore brought it on too damn it damn it and they always want -to see a stain on the bed to know youre a virgin for them all thats -troubling them theyre such fools too you could be a widow or divorced -times over a daub of red ink would do or blackberry juice no thats too -purply O Jamesy let me up out of this pooh sweets of sin whoever -suggested that business for women what between clothes and cooking and -children this damned old bed too jingling like the dickens I suppose they -could hear us away over the other side of the park till I suggested to -put the quilt on the floor with the pillow under my bottom I wonder is it -nicer in the day I think it is easy I think Ill cut all this hair off me -there scalding me I might look like a young girl wouldnt he get the great -suckin the next time he turned up my clothes on me Id give anything to -see his face wheres the chamber gone easy Ive a holy horror of its -breaking under me after that old commode I wonder was I too heavy sitting -on his knee I made him sit on the easychair purposely when I took off -only my blouse and skirt first in the other room he was so busy where he -oughtnt to be he never felt me I hope my breath was sweet after those -kissing comfits easy God I remember one time I could scout it out -straight whistling like a man almost easy O Lord how noisy I hope theyre -bubbles on it for a wad of money from some fellow Ill have to perfume it -in the morning dont forget I bet he never saw a better pair of thighs -than that look how white they are the smoothest place is right there -between this bit here how soft like a peach easy God I wouldnt mind being -a man and get up on a lovely woman O Lord what a row youre making like -the jersey lily easy easy O how the waters come down at Lahore -who knows is there anything the matter with my insides or have I -something growing in me getting that thing like that every week when was -it last I Whit Monday yes its only about weeks I ought to go to the -doctor only it would be like before I married him when I had that white -thing coming from me and Floey made me go to that dry old stick Dr -Collins for womens diseases on Pembroke road your vagina he called it I -suppose thats how he got all the gilt mirrors and carpets getting round -those rich ones off Stephens green running up to him for every little -fiddlefaddle her vagina and her cochinchina theyve money of course so -theyre all right I wouldnt marry him not if he was the last man in the -world besides theres something queer about their children always smelling -around those filthy bitches all sides asking me if what I did had an -offensive odour what did he want me to do but the one thing gold maybe -what a question if I smathered it all over his wrinkly old face for him -with all my compriments I suppose hed know then and could you pass it -easily pass what I thought he was talking about the rock of Gibraltar the -way he put it thats a very nice invention too by the way only I like -letting myself down after in the hole as far as I can squeeze and pull -the chain then to flush it nice cool pins and needles still theres -something in it I suppose I always used to know by Millys when she was a -child whether she had worms or not still all the same paying him for that -how much is that doctor one guinea please and asking me had I frequent -omissions where do those old fellows get all the words they have -omissions with his shortsighted eyes on me cocked sideways I wouldnt -trust him too far to give me chloroform or God knows what else still I -liked him when he sat down to write the thing out frowning so severe his -nose intelligent like that you be damned you lying strap O anything no -matter who except an idiot he was clever enough to spot that of course -that was all thinking of him and his mad crazy letters my Precious one -everything connected with your glorious Body everything underlined that -comes from it is a thing of beauty and of joy for ever something he got -out of some nonsensical book that he had me always at myself and -times a day sometimes and I said I hadnt are you sure O yes I said I am -quite sure in a way that shut him up I knew what was coming next only -natural weakness it was he excited me I dont know how the first night -ever we met when I was living in Rehoboth terrace we stood staring at one -another for about minutes as if we met somewhere I suppose on account -of my being jewess looking after my mother he used to amuse me the things -he said with the half sloothering smile on him and all the Doyles said he -was going to stand for a member of Parliament O wasnt I the born fool to -believe all his blather about home rule and the land league sending me -that long strool of a song out of the Huguenots to sing in French to be -more classy O beau pays de la Touraine that I never even sang once -explaining and rigmaroling about religion and persecution he wont let you -enjoy anything naturally then might he as a great favour the very st -opportunity he got a chance in Brighton square running into my bedroom -pretending the ink got on his hands to wash it off with the Albion milk -and sulphur soap I used to use and the gelatine still round it O I -laughed myself sick at him that day I better not make an alnight sitting -on this affair they ought to make chambers a natural size so that a woman -could sit on it properly he kneels down to do it I suppose there isnt in -all creation another man with the habits he has look at the way hes -sleeping at the foot of the bed how can he without a hard bolster its -well he doesnt kick or he might knock out all my teeth breathing with his -hand on his nose like that Indian god he took me to show one wet Sunday -in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a pinafore lying on his -side on his hand with his ten toes sticking out that he said was a bigger -religion than the jews and Our Lords both put together all over Asia -imitating him as hes always imitating everybody I suppose he used to -sleep at the foot of the bed too with his big square feet up in his wifes -mouth damn this stinking thing anyway wheres this those napkins are ah -yes I know I hope the old press doesnt creak ah I knew it would hes -sleeping hard had a good time somewhere still she must have given him -great value for his money of course he has to pay for it from her O this -nuisance of a thing I hope theyll have something better for us in the -other world tying ourselves up God help us thats all right for tonight -now the lumpy old jingly bed always reminds me of old Cohen I suppose he -scratched himself in it often enough and he thinks father bought it from -Lord Napier that I used to admire when I was a little girl because I told -him easy piano O I like my bed God here we are as bad as ever after -years how many houses were we in at all Raymond terrace and Ontario -terrace and Lombard street and Holles street and he goes about whistling -every time were on the run again his huguenots or the frogs march -pretending to help the men with our sticks of furniture and then the -City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on -the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving all their stinks -after them always know who was in there last every time were just getting -on right something happens or he puts his big foot in it Thoms and Helys -and Mr Cuffes and Drimmies either hes going to be run into prison over -his old lottery tickets that was to be all our salvations or he goes and -gives impudence well have him coming home with the sack soon out of the -Freeman too like the rest on account of those Sinner Fein or the -freemasons then well see if the little man he showed me dribbling along -in the wet all by himself round by Coadys lane will give him much -consolation that he says is so capable and sincerely Irish he is indeed -judging by the sincerity of the trousers I saw on him wait theres Georges -church bells wait quarters the hour l wait oclock well thats a nice -hour of the night for him to be coming home at to anybody climbing down -into the area if anybody saw him Ill knock him off that little habit -tomorrow first Ill look at his shirt to see or Ill see if he has that -French letter still in his pocketbook I suppose he thinks I dont know -deceitful men all their pockets arent enough for their lies then why -should we tell them even if its the truth they dont believe you then -tucked up in bed like those babies in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he -brought me another time as if we hadnt enough of that in real life -without some old Aristocrat or whatever his name is disgusting you more -with those rotten pictures children with two heads and no legs thats the -kind of villainy theyre always dreaming about with not another thing in -their empty heads they ought to get slow poison the half of them then tea -and toast for him buttered on both sides and newlaid eggs I suppose Im -nothing any more when I wouldnt let him lick me in Holles street one -night man man tyrant as ever for the one thing he slept on the floor half -the night naked the way the jews used when somebody dies belonged to them -and wouldnt eat any breakfast or speak a word wanting to be petted so I -thought I stood out enough for one time and let him he does it all wrong -too thinking only of his own pleasure his tongue is too flat or I dont -know what he forgets that wethen I dont Ill make him do it again if he -doesnt mind himself and lock him down to sleep in the coalcellar with the -blackbeetles I wonder was it her Josie off her head with my castoffs hes -such a born liar too no hed never have the courage with a married woman -thats why he wants me and Boylan though as for her Denis as she calls him -that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him a husband yes its some -little bitch hes got in with even when I was with him with Milly at the -College races that Hornblower with the childs bonnet on the top of his -nob let us into by the back way he was throwing his sheeps eyes at those -two doing skirt duty up and down I tried to wink at him first no use of -course and thats the way his money goes this is the fruits of Mr Paddy -Dignam yes they were all in great style at the grand funeral in the paper -Boylan brought in if they saw a real officers funeral thatd be something -reversed arms muffled drums the poor horse walking behind in black L Boom -and Tom Kernan that drunken little barrelly man that bit his tongue off -falling down the mens W C drunk in some place or other and Martin -Cunningham and the two Dedaluses and Fanny MCoys husband white head of -cabbage skinny thing with a turn in her eye trying to sing my songs shed -want to be born all over again and her old green dress with the lowneck -as she cant attract them any other way like dabbling on a rainy day I see -it all now plainly and they call that friendship killing and then burying -one another and they all with their wives and families at home more -especially Jack Power keeping that barmaid he does of course his wife is -always sick or going to be sick or just getting better of it and hes a -goodlooking man still though hes getting a bit grey over the ears theyre -a nice lot all of them well theyre not going to get my husband again into -their clutches if I can help it making fun of him then behind his back I -know well when he goes on with his idiotics because he has sense enough -not to squander every penny piece he earns down their gullets and looks -after his wife and family goodfornothings poor Paddy Dignam all the same -Im sorry in a way for him what are his wife and children going to do -unless he was insured comical little teetotum always stuck up in some pub -corner and her or her son waiting Bill Bailey wont you please come home -her widows weeds wont improve her appearance theyre awfully becoming -though if youre goodlooking what men wasnt he yes he was at the Glencree -dinner and Ben Dollard base barreltone the night he borrowed the -swallowtail to sing out of in Holles street squeezed and squashed into -them and grinning all over his big Dolly face like a wellwhipped childs -botty didnt he look a balmy ballocks sure enough that must have been a -spectacle on the stage imagine paying / in the preserved seats for that -to see him trotting off in his trowlers and Simon Dedalus too he was -always turning up half screwed singing the second verse first the old -love is the new was one of his so sweetly sang the maiden on the hawthorn -bough he was always on for flirtyfying too when I sang Maritana with him -at Freddy Mayers private opera he had a delicious glorious voice Phoebe -dearest goodbye sweetheart SWEETheart he always sang it not like Bartell -Darcy sweet tart goodbye of course he had the gift of the voice so there -was no art in it all over you like a warm showerbath O Maritana wildwood -flower we sang splendidly though it was a bit too high for my register -even transposed and he was married at the time to May Goulding but then -hed say or do something to knock the good out of it hes a widower now I -wonder what sort is his son he says hes an author and going to be a -university professor of Italian and Im to take lessons what is he driving -at now showing him my photo its not good of me I ought to have got it -taken in drapery that never looks out of fashion still I look young in it -I wonder he didnt make him a present of it altogether and me too after -all why not I saw him driving down to the Kingsbridge station with his -father and mother I was in mourning thats years ago now yes hed be -though what was the good in going into mourning for what was neither one -thing nor the other the first cry was enough for me I heard the -deathwatch too ticking in the wall of course he insisted hed go into -mourning for the cat I suppose hes a man now by this time he was an -innocent boy then and a darling little fellow in his lord Fauntleroy suit -and curly hair like a prince on the stage when I saw him at Mat Dillons -he liked me too I remember they all do wait by God yes wait yes hold on -he was on the cards this morning when I laid out the deck union with a -young stranger neither dark nor fair you met before I thought it meant -him but hes no chicken nor a stranger either besides my face was turned -the other way what was the th card after that the of spades for a -journey by land then there was a letter on its way and scandals too the -queens and the of diamonds for a rise in society yes wait it all came -out and red s for new garments look at that and didnt I dream -something too yes there was something about poetry in it I hope he hasnt -long greasy hair hanging into his eyes or standing up like a red Indian -what do they go about like that for only getting themselves and their -poetry laughed at I always liked poetry when I was a girl first I thought -he was a poet like lord Byron and not an ounce of it in his composition I -thought he was quite different I wonder is he too young hes about wait -I was married Milly is yesterday what age was he then at Dillons - or about I suppose hes or more Im not too old for him if hes -or I hope hes not that stuckup university student sort no otherwise he -wouldnt go sitting down in the old kitchen with him taking Eppss cocoa -and talking of course he pretended to understand it all probably he told -him he was out of Trinity college hes very young to be a professor I hope -hes not a professor like Goodwin was he was a potent professor of John -Jameson they all write about some woman in their poetry well I suppose he -wont find many like me where softly sighs of love the light guitar where -poetry is in the air the blue sea and the moon shining so beautifully -coming back on the nightboat from Tarifa the lighthouse at Europa point -the guitar that fellow played was so expressive will I ever go back there -again all new faces two glancing eyes a lattice hid Ill sing that for him -theyre my eyes if hes anything of a poet two eyes as darkly bright as -loves own star arent those beautiful words as loves young star itll be a -change the Lord knows to have an intelligent person to talk to about -yourself not always listening to him and Billy Prescotts ad and Keyess ad -and Tom the Devils ad then if anything goes wrong in their business we -have to suffer Im sure hes very distinguished Id like to meet a man like -that God not those other ruck besides hes young those fine young men I -could see down in Margate strand bathingplace from the side of the rock -standing up in the sun naked like a God or something and then plunging -into the sea with them why arent all men like that thered be some -consolation for a woman like that lovely little statue he bought I could -look at him all day long curly head and his shoulders his finger up for -you to listen theres real beauty and poetry for you I often felt I wanted -to kiss him all over also his lovely young cock there so simple I wouldnt -mind taking him in my mouth if nobody was looking as if it was asking you -to suck it so clean and white he looks with his boyish face I would too -in / a minute even if some of it went down what its only like gruel or -the dew theres no danger besides hed be so clean compared with those pigs -of men I suppose never dream of washing it from I years end to the other -the most of them only thats what gives the women the moustaches Im sure -itll be grand if I can only get in with a handsome young poet at my age -Ill throw them the st thing in the morning till I see if the wishcard -comes out or Ill try pairing the lady herself and see if he comes out Ill -read and study all I can find or learn a bit off by heart if I knew who -he likes so he wont think me stupid if he thinks all women are the same -and I can teach him the other part Ill make him feel all over him till he -half faints under me then hell write about me lover and mistress publicly -too with our photographs in all the papers when he becomes famous O but -then what am I going to do about him though -no thats no way for him has he no manners nor no refinement nor no -nothing in his nature slapping us behind like that on my bottom because I -didnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesnt know poetry from a cabbage -thats what you get for not keeping them in their proper place pulling off -his shoes and trousers there on the chair before me so barefaced without -even asking permission and standing out that vulgar way in the half of a -shirt they wear to be admired like a priest or a butcher or those old -hypocrites in the time of Julius Caesar of course hes right enough in his -way to pass the time as a joke sure you might as well be in bed with what -with a lion God Im sure hed have something better to say for himself an -old Lion would O well I suppose its because they were so plump and -tempting in my short petticoat he couldnt resist they excite myself -sometimes its well for men all the amount of pleasure they get off a -womans body were so round and white for them always I wished I was one -myself for a change just to try with that thing they have swelling up on -you so hard and at the same time so soft when you touch it my uncle John -has a thing long I heard those cornerboys saying passing the comer of -Marrowbone lane my aunt Mary has a thing hairy because it was dark and -they knew a girl was passing it didnt make me blush why should it either -its only nature and he puts his thing long into my aunt Marys hairy -etcetera and turns out to be you put the handle in a sweepingbrush men -again all over they can pick and choose what they please a married woman -or a fast widow or a girl for their different tastes like those houses -round behind Irish street no but were to be always chained up theyre not -going to be chaining me up no damn fear once I start I tell you for their -stupid husbands jealousy why cant we all remain friends over it instead -of quarrelling her husband found it out what they did together well -naturally and if he did can he undo it hes coronado anyway whatever he -does and then he going to the other mad extreme about the wife in Fair -Tyrants of course the man never even casts a nd thought on the husband -or wife either its the woman he wants and he gets her what else were we -given all those desires for Id like to know I cant help it if Im young -still can I its a wonder Im not an old shrivelled hag before my time -living with him so cold never embracing me except sometimes when hes -asleep the wrong end of me not knowing I suppose who he has any man thatd -kiss a womans bottom Id throw my hat at him after that hed kiss anything -unnatural where we havent I atom of any kind of expression in us all of -us the same lumps of lard before ever Id do that to a man pfooh the -dirty brutes the mere thought is enough I kiss the feet of you senorita -theres some sense in that didnt he kiss our halldoor yes he did what a -madman nobody understands his cracked ideas but me still of course a -woman wants to be embraced times a day almost to make her look young -no matter by who so long as to be in love or loved by somebody if the -fellow you want isnt there sometimes by the Lord God I was thinking would -I go around by the quays there some dark evening where nobodyd know me -and pick up a sailor off the sea thatd be hot on for it and not care a -pin whose I was only do it off up in a gate somewhere or one of those -wildlooking gipsies in Rathfarnham had their camp pitched near the -Bloomfield laundry to try and steal our things if they could I only sent -mine there a few times for the name model laundry sending me back over -and over some old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with -the fine eyes peeling a switch attack me in the dark and ride me up -against the wall without a word or a murderer anybody what they do -themselves the fine gentlemen in their silk hats that K C lives up -somewhere this way coming out of Hardwicke lane the night he gave us the -fish supper on account of winning over the boxing match of course it was -for me he gave it I knew him by his gaiters and the walk and when I -turned round a minute after just to see there was a woman after coming -out of it too some filthy prostitute then he goes home to his wife after -that only I suppose the half of those sailors are rotten again with -disease O move over your big carcass out of that for the love of Mike -listen to him the winds that waft my sighs to thee so well he may sleep -and sigh the great Suggester Don Poldo de la Flora if he knew how he came -out on the cards this morning hed have something to sigh for a dark man -in some perplexity between s too in prison for Lord knows what he does -that I dont know and Im to be slooching around down in the kitchen to get -his lordship his breakfast while hes rolled up like a mummy will I indeed -did you ever see me running Id just like to see myself at it show them -attention and they treat you like dirt I dont care what anybody says itd -be much better for the world to be governed by the women in it you -wouldnt see women going and killing one another and slaughtering when do -you ever see women rolling around drunk like they do or gambling every -penny they have and losing it on horses yes because a woman whatever she -does she knows where to stop sure they wouldnt be in the world at all -only for us they dont know what it is to be a woman and a mother how -could they where would they all of them be if they hadnt all a mother to -look after them what I never had thats why I suppose hes running wild now -out at night away from his books and studies and not living at home on -account of the usual rowy house I suppose well its a poor case that those -that have a fine son like that theyre not satisfied and I none was he not -able to make one it wasnt my fault we came together when I was watching -the two dogs up in her behind in the middle of the naked street that -disheartened me altogether I suppose I oughtnt to have buried him in that -little woolly jacket I knitted crying as I was but give it to some poor -child but I knew well Id never have another our st death too it was we -were never the same since O Im not going to think myself into the glooms -about that any more I wonder why he wouldnt stay the night I felt all the -time it was somebody strange he brought in instead of roving around the -city meeting God knows who nightwalkers and pickpockets his poor mother -wouldnt like that if she was alive ruining himself for life perhaps still -its a lovely hour so silent I used to love coming home after dances the -air of the night they have friends they can talk to weve none either he -wants what he wont get or its some woman ready to stick her knife in you -I hate that in women no wonder they treat us the way they do we are a -dreadful lot of bitches I suppose its all the troubles we have makes us -so snappy Im not like that he could easy have slept in there on the sofa -in the other room I suppose he was as shy as a boy he being so young -hardly of me in the next room hed have heard me on the chamber arrah -what harm Dedalus I wonder its like those names in Gibraltar Delapaz -Delagracia they had the devils queer names there father Vilaplana of -Santa Maria that gave me the rosary Rosales y OReilly in the Calle las -Siete Revueltas and Pisimbo and Mrs Opisso in Governor street O what a -name Id go and drown myself in the first river if I had a name like her O -my and all the bits of streets Paradise ramp and Bedlam ramp and Rodgers -ramp and Crutchetts ramp and the devils gap steps well small blame to me -if I am a harumscarum I know I am a bit I declare to God I dont feel a -day older than then I wonder could I get my tongue round any of the -Spanish como esta usted muy bien gracias y usted see I havent forgotten -it all I thought I had only for the grammar a noun is the name of any -person place or thing pity I never tried to read that novel cantankerous -Mrs Rubio lent me by Valera with the questions in it all upside down the -two ways I always knew wed go away in the end I can tell him the Spanish -and he tell me the Italian then hell see Im not so ignorant what a pity -he didnt stay Im sure the poor fellow was dead tired and wanted a good -sleep badly I could have brought him in his breakfast in bed with a bit -of toast so long as I didnt do it on the knife for bad luck or if the -woman was going her rounds with the watercress and something nice and -tasty there are a few olives in the kitchen he might like I never could -bear the look of them in Abrines I could do the criada the room looks all -right since I changed it the other way you see something was telling me -all the time Id have to introduce myself not knowing me from Adam very -funny wouldnt it Im his wife or pretend we were in Spain with him half -awake without a Gods notion where he is dos huevos estrellados senor Lord -the cracked things come into my head sometimes itd be great fun supposing -he stayed with us why not theres the room upstairs empty and Millys bed -in the back room he could do his writing and studies at the table in -there for all the scribbling he does at it and if he wants to read in bed -in the morning like me as hes making the breakfast for I he can make it -for Im sure Im not going to take in lodgers off the street for him if -he takes a gesabo of a house like this Id love to have a long talk with -an intelligent welleducated person Id have to get a nice pair of red -slippers like those Turks with the fez used to sell or yellow and a nice -semitransparent morning gown that I badly want or a peachblossom dressing -jacket like the one long ago in Walpoles only / or / Ill just give -him one more chance Ill get up early in the morning Im sick of Cohens old -bed in any case I might go over to the markets to see all the vegetables -and cabbages and tomatoes and carrots and all kinds of splendid fruits -all coming in lovely and fresh who knows whod be the st man Id meet -theyre out looking for it in the morning Mamy Dillon used to say they are -and the night too that was her massgoing Id love a big juicy pear now to -melt in your mouth like when I used to be in the longing way then Ill -throw him up his eggs and tea in the moustachecup she gave him to make -his mouth bigger I suppose hed like my nice cream too I know what Ill do -Ill go about rather gay not too much singing a bit now and then mi fa -pieta Masetto then Ill start dressing myself to go out presto non son piu -forte Ill put on my best shift and drawers let him have a good eyeful out -of that to make his micky stand for him Ill let him know if thats what he -wanted that his wife is I s l o fucked yes and damn well fucked too up to -my neck nearly not by him or times handrunning theres the mark of his -spunk on the clean sheet I wouldnt bother to even iron it out that ought -to satisfy him if you dont believe me feel my belly unless I made him -stand there and put him into me Ive a mind to tell him every scrap and -make him do it out in front of me serve him right its all his own fault -if I am an adulteress as the thing in the gallery said O much about it if -thats all the harm ever we did in this vale of tears God knows its not -much doesnt everybody only they hide it I suppose thats what a woman is -supposed to be there for or He wouldnt have made us the way He did so -attractive to men then if he wants to kiss my bottom Ill drag open my -drawers and bulge it right out in his face as large as life he can stick -his tongue miles up my hole as hes there my brown part then Ill tell -him I want LI or perhaps / Ill tell him I want to buy underclothes -then if he gives me that well he wont be too bad I dont want to soak it -all out of him like other women do I could often have written out a fine -cheque for myself and write his name on it for a couple of pounds a few -times he forgot to lock it up besides he wont spend it Ill let him do it -off on me behind provided he doesnt smear all my good drawers O I suppose -that cant be helped Ill do the indifferent l or questions Ill know by -the answers when hes like that he cant keep a thing back I know every -turn in him Ill tighten my bottom well and let out a few smutty words -smellrump or lick my shit or the first mad thing comes into my head then -Ill suggest about yes O wait now sonny my turn is coming Ill be quite gay -and friendly over it O but I was forgetting this bloody pest of a thing -pfooh you wouldnt know which to laugh or cry were such a mixture of plum -and apple no Ill have to wear the old things so much the better itll be -more pointed hell never know whether he did it or not there thats good -enough for you any old thing at all then Ill wipe him off me just like a -business his omission then Ill go out Ill have him eying up at the -ceiling where is she gone now make him want me thats the only way a -quarter after what an unearthly hour I suppose theyre just getting up in -China now combing out their pigtails for the day well soon have the nuns -ringing the angelus theyve nobody coming in to spoil their sleep except -an odd priest or two for his night office or the alarmclock next door at -cockshout clattering the brains out of itself let me see if I can doze -off what kind of flowers are those they invented like the stars -the wallpaper in Lombard street was much nicer the apron he gave me was -like that something only I only wore it twice better lower this lamp and -try again so as I can get up early Ill go to Lambes there beside -Findlaters and get them to send us some flowers to put about the place in -case he brings him home tomorrow today I mean no no Fridays an unlucky -day first I want to do the place up someway the dust grows in it I think -while Im asleep then we can have music and cigarettes I can accompany him -first I must clean the keys of the piano with milk whatll I wear shall I -wear a white rose or those fairy cakes in Liptons I love the smell of a -rich big shop at /d a lb or the other ones with the cherries in them -and the pinky sugar d a couple of lbs of those a nice plant for the -middle of the table Id get that cheaper in wait wheres this I saw them -not long ago I love flowers Id love to have the whole place swimming in -roses God of heaven theres nothing like nature the wild mountains then -the sea and the waves rushing then the beautiful country with the fields -of oats and wheat and all kinds of things and all the fine cattle going -about that would do your heart good to see rivers and lakes and flowers -all sorts of shapes and smells and colours springing up even out of the -ditches primroses and violets nature it is as for them saying theres no -God I wouldnt give a snap of my two fingers for all their learning why -dont they go and create something I often asked him atheists or whatever -they call themselves go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then -they go howling for the priest and they dying and why why because theyre -afraid of hell on account of their bad conscience ah yes I know them well -who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that -made it all who ah that they dont know neither do I so there you are they -might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for -you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head -in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to -me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was -leapyear like now yes years ago my God after that long kiss I near -lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are -flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life -and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I -saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get -round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he -asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the -sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey -and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the -sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they -called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with -the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish -girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in -the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who -else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all -clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep -and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and -the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of -years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like -kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with -the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her -lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the -castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman -going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and -the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and -the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets -and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the -jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was -a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the -Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me -under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then -I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I -yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes -and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and -his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. -TriesteZurichParis -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ulysses, by James Joyce - END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ULYSSES -This file should be named ulyss.txt or ulyss.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our 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If you -don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are -payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois -Benedictine College" within the days following each -date you prepare or were legally required to prepare -your annual or equivalent periodic tax return. -WHAT IF YOU WANT TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? -The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, -scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty -free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution -you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg -Association / Illinois Benedictine College". -This "Small Print" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney -Internet .compuserve.com TEL -ENDTHE SMALL PRINT FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTSVer...END -WALDEN ON THE DUTY OF CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE -Contents -WALDEN -. Economy -. Where I Lived, and What I Lived For -. Reading -. Sounds -. Solitude -. Visitors -. The BeanField -. The Village -. The Ponds -. Baker Farm -. Higher Laws -. Brute Neighbors -. HouseWarming -. Inhabitants and Winter Visitors -. Winter Animals -. The Pond in Winter -. Spring -. Conclusion -On the Duty of Civil Disobedience -Economy -When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I -lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house -which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, -Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only. -I lived there two years and two months. At present I am a sojourner -in civilized life again. -I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my -readers if very particular inquiries had not been made by my -townsmen concerning my mode of life, which some would call -impertinent, though they do not appear to me at all impertinent, -but, considering the circumstances, very natural and pertinent. -Some have asked what I got to eat if I did not feel lonesome if I -was not afraid and the like. Others have been curious to learn -what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes and -some, who have large families, how many poor children I maintained. -I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel no particular -interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some of these -questions in this book. In most books, the I, or first person, is -omitted in this it will be retained that, in respect to egotism, -is the main difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, -after all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not -talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as -well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness -of my experience. Moreover, I, on my side, require of every writer, -first or last, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not -merely what he has heard of other men's lives some such account as -he would send to his kindred from a distant land for if he has -lived sincerely, it must have been in a distant land to me. Perhaps -these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students. As -for the rest of my readers, they will accept such portions as apply -to them. I trust that none will stretch the seams in putting on the -coat, for it may do good service to him whom it fits. -I would fain say something, not so much concerning the Chinese -and Sandwich Islanders as you who read these pages, who are said to -live in New England something about your condition, especially your -outward condition or circumstances in this world, in this town, what -it is, whether it is necessary that it be as bad as it is, whether -it cannot be improved as well as not. I have travelled a good deal -in Concord and everywhere, in shops, and offices, and fields, the -inhabitants have appeared to me to be doing penance in a thousand -remarkable ways. What I have heard of Bramins sitting exposed to -four fires and looking in the face of the sun or hanging suspended, -with their heads downward, over flames or looking at the heavens -over their shoulders "until it becomes impossible for them to resume -their natural position, while from the twist of the neck nothing but -liquids can pass into the stomach" or dwelling, chained for life, -at the foot of a tree or measuring with their bodies, like -caterpillars, the breadth of vast empires or standing on one leg on -the tops of pillars even these forms of conscious penance are -hardly more incredible and astonishing than the scenes which I daily -witness. The twelve labors of Hercules were trifling in comparison -with those which my neighbors have undertaken for they were only -twelve, and had an end but I could never see that these men slew or -captured any monster or finished any labor. They have no friend -Iolaus to burn with a hot iron the root of the hydra's head, but as -soon as one head is crushed, two spring up. -I see young men, my townsmen, whose misfortune it is to have -inherited farms, houses, barns, cattle, and farming tools for these -are more easily acquired than got rid of. Better if they had been -born in the open pasture and suckled by a wolf, that they might have -seen with clearer eyes what field they were called to labor in. Who -made them serfs of the soil? Why should they eat their sixty acres, -when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt? Why should they -begin digging their graves as soon as they are born? They have got -to live a man's life, pushing all these things before them, and get -on as well as they can. How many a poor immortal soul have I met -wellnigh crushed and smothered under its load, creeping down the -road of life, pushing before it a barn seventyfive feet by forty, -its Augean stables never cleansed, and one hundred acres of land, -tillage, mowing, pasture, and woodlot The portionless, who -struggle with no such unnecessary inherited encumbrances, find it -labor enough to subdue and cultivate a few cubic feet of flesh. -But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is -soon plowed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate, commonly -called necessity, they are employed, as it says in an old book, -laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves -break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find -when they get to the end of it, if not before. It is said that -Deucalion and Pyrrha created men by throwing stones over their heads -behind them -Inde genus durum sumus, experiensque laborum, -Et documenta damus qua simus origine nati. -Or, as Raleigh rhymes it in his sonorous way, -"From thence our kind hardhearted is, enduring pain and care, -Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are." -So much for a blind obedience to a blundering oracle, throwing the -stones over their heads behind them, and not seeing where they fell. -Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere -ignorance and mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and -superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be -plucked by them. Their fingers, from excessive toil, are too clumsy -and tremble too much for that. Actually, the laboring man has not -leisure for a true integrity day by day he cannot afford to sustain -the manliest relations to men his labor would be depreciated in the -market. He has no time to be anything but a machine. How can he -remember well his ignorance which his growth requires who has -so often to use his knowledge? We should feed and clothe him -gratuitously sometimes, and recruit him with our cordials, before we -judge of him. The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on -fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we -do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly. -Some of you, we all know, are poor, find it hard to live, are -sometimes, as it were, gasping for breath. I have no doubt that -some of you who read this book are unable to pay for all the dinners -which you have actually eaten, or for the coats and shoes which are -fast wearing or are already worn out, and have come to this page to -spend borrowed or stolen time, robbing your creditors of an hour. -It is very evident what mean and sneaking lives many of you live, -for my sight has been whetted by experience always on the limits, -trying to get into business and trying to get out of debt, a very -ancient slough, called by the Latins aes alienum, another's brass, -for some of their coins were made of brass still living, and dying, -and buried by this other's brass always promising to pay, promising -to pay, tomorrow, and dying today, insolvent seeking to curry -favor, to get custom, by how many modes, only not stateprison -offenses lying, flattering, voting, contracting yourselves into a -nutshell of civility or dilating into an atmosphere of thin and -vaporous generosity, that you may persuade your neighbor to let you -make his shoes, or his hat, or his coat, or his carriage, or import -his groceries for him making yourselves sick, that you may lay up -something against a sick day, something to be tucked away in an old -chest, or in a stocking behind the plastering, or, more safely, in -the brick bank no matter where, no matter how much or how little. -I sometimes wonder that we can be so frivolous, I may almost -say, as to attend to the gross but somewhat foreign form of -servitude called Negro Slavery, there are so many keen and subtle -masters that enslave both North and South. It is hard to have a -Southern overseer it is worse to have a Northern one but worst of -all when you are the slavedriver of yourself. Talk of a divinity -in man Look at the teamster on the highway, wending to market by -day or night does any divinity stir within him? His highest duty -to fodder and water his horses What is his destiny to him compared -with the shipping interests? Does not he drive for Squire -Makeastir? How godlike, how immortal, is he? See how he cowers -and sneaks, how vaguely all the day he fears, not being immortal nor -divine, but the slave and prisoner of his own opinion of himself, a -fame won by his own deeds. Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared -with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it -is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate. -Selfemancipation even in the West Indian provinces of the fancy and -imagination what Wilberforce is there to bring that about? -Think, also, of the ladies of the land weaving toilet cushions -against the last day, not to betray too green an interest in their -fates As if you could kill time without injuring eternity. -The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called -resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you -go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the -bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious -despair is concealed even under what are called the games and -amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes -after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do -desperate things. -When we consider what, to use the words of the catechism, is the -chief end of man, and what are the true necessaries and means of -life, it appears as if men had deliberately chosen the common mode -of living because they preferred it to any other. Yet they honestly -think there is no choice left. But alert and healthy natures -remember that the sun rose clear. It is never too late to give up -our prejudices. No way of thinking or doing, however ancient, can -be trusted without proof. What everybody echoes or in silence -passes by as true today may turn out to be falsehood tomorrow, -mere smoke of opinion, which some had trusted for a cloud that would -sprinkle fertilizing rain on their fields. What old people say you -cannot do, you try and find that you can. Old deeds for old people, -and new deeds for new. Old people did not know enough once, -perchance, to fetch fresh fuel to keep the fire agoing new people -put a little dry wood under a pot, and are whirled round the globe -with the speed of birds, in a way to kill old people, as the phrase -is. Age is no better, hardly so well, qualified for an instructor -as youth, for it has not profited so much as it has lost. One may -almost doubt if the wisest man has learned anything of absolute -value by living. Practically, the old have no very important advice -to give the young, their own experience has been so partial, and -their lives have been such miserable failures, for private reasons, -as they must believe and it may be that they have some faith left -which belies that experience, and they are only less young than they -were. I have lived some thirty years on this planet, and I have yet -to hear the first syllable of valuable or even earnest advice from -my seniors. They have told me nothing, and probably cannot tell me -anything to the purpose. Here is life, an experiment to a great -extent untried by me but it does not avail me that they have tried -it. If I have any experience which I think valuable, I am sure to -reflect that this my Mentors said nothing about. -One farmer says to me, "You cannot live on vegetable food -solely, for it furnishes nothing to make bones with" and so he -religiously devotes a part of his day to supplying his system with -the raw material of bones walking all the while he talks behind his -oxen, which, with vegetablemade bones, jerk him and his lumbering -plow along in spite of every obstacle. Some things are really -necessaries of life in some circles, the most helpless and diseased, -which in others are luxuries merely, and in others still are -entirely unknown. -The whole ground of human life seems to some to have been gone -over by their predecessors, both the heights and the valleys, and -all things to have been cared for. According to Evelyn, "the wise -Solomon prescribed ordinances for the very distances of trees and -the Roman praetors have decided how often you may go into your -neighbor's land to gather the acorns which fall on it without -trespass, and what share belongs to that neighbor." Hippocrates has -even left directions how we should cut our nails that is, even with -the ends of the fingers, neither shorter nor longer. Undoubtedly -the very tedium and ennui which presume to have exhausted the -variety and the joys of life are as old as Adam. But man's -capacities have never been measured nor are we to judge of what he -can do by any precedents, so little has been tried. Whatever have -been thy failures hitherto, "be not afflicted, my child, for who -shall assign to thee what thou hast left undone?" -We might try our lives by a thousand simple tests as, for -instance, that the same sun which ripens my beans illumines at once -a system of earths like ours. If I had remembered this it would -have prevented some mistakes. This was not the light in which I -hoed them. The stars are the apexes of what wonderful triangles -What distant and different beings in the various mansions of the -universe are contemplating the same one at the same moment Nature -and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who -shall say what prospect life offers to another? Could a greater -miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for -an instant? We should live in all the ages of the world in an hour -ay, in all the worlds of the ages. History, Poetry, Mythology I -know of no reading of another's experience so startling and -informing as this would be. -The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my -soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be -my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? -You may say the wisest thing you can, old man you who have lived -seventy years, not without honor of a kind I hear an irresistible -voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons -the enterprises of another like stranded vessels. -I think that we may safely trust a good deal more than we do. -We may waive just so much care of ourselves as we honestly bestow -elsewhere. Nature is as well adapted to our weakness as to our -strength. The incessant anxiety and strain of some is a wellnigh -incurable form of disease. We are made to exaggerate the importance -of what work we do and yet how much is not done by us or, what if -we had been taken sick? How vigilant we are determined not to live -by faith if we can avoid it all the day long on the alert, at night -we unwillingly say our prayers and commit ourselves to -uncertainties. So thoroughly and sincerely are we compelled to -live, reverencing our life, and denying the possibility of change. -This is the only way, we say but there are as many ways as there -can be drawn radii from one centre. All change is a miracle to -contemplate but it is a miracle which is taking place every -instant. Confucius said, "To know that we know what we know, and -that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge." -When one man has reduced a fact of the imagination to be a fact to -his understanding, I foresee that all men at length establish their -lives on that basis. -Let us consider for a moment what most of the trouble and -anxiety which I have referred to is about, and how much it is -necessary that we be troubled, or at least careful. It would be -some advantage to live a primitive and frontier life, though in the -midst of an outward civilization, if only to learn what are the -gross necessaries of life and what methods have been taken to obtain -them or even to look over the old daybooks of the merchants, to -see what it was that men most commonly bought at the stores, what -they stored, that is, what are the grossest groceries. For the -improvements of ages have had but little influence on the essential -laws of man's existence as our skeletons, probably, are not to be -distinguished from those of our ancestors. -By the words, necessary of life, I mean whatever, of all that -man obtains by his own exertions, has been from the first, or from -long use has become, so important to human life that few, if any, -whether from savageness, or poverty, or philosophy, ever attempt to -do without it. To many creatures there is in this sense but one -necessary of life, Food. To the bison of the prairie it is a few -inches of palatable grass, with water to drink unless he seeks the -Shelter of the forest or the mountain's shadow. None of the brute -creation requires more than Food and Shelter. The necessaries of -life for man in this climate may, accurately enough, be distributed -under the several heads of Food, Shelter, Clothing, and Fuel for -not till we have secured these are we prepared to entertain the true -problems of life with freedom and a prospect of success. Man has -invented, not only houses, but clothes and cooked food and possibly -from the accidental discovery of the warmth of fire, and the -consequent use of it, at first a luxury, arose the present necessity -to sit by it. We observe cats and dogs acquiring the same second -nature. By proper Shelter and Clothing we legitimately retain our -own internal heat but with an excess of these, or of Fuel, that is, -with an external heat greater than our own internal, may not cookery -properly be said to begin? Darwin, the naturalist, says of the -inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego, that while his own party, who were -well clothed and sitting close to a fire, were far from too warm, -these naked savages, who were farther off, were observed, to his -great surprise, "to be streaming with perspiration at undergoing -such a roasting." So, we are told, the New Hollander goes naked -with impunity, while the European shivers in his clothes. Is it -impossible to combine the hardiness of these savages with the -intellectualness of the civilized man? According to Liebig, man's -body is a stove, and food the fuel which keeps up the internal -combustion in the lungs. In cold weather we eat more, in warm less. -The animal heat is the result of a slow combustion, and disease and -death take place when this is too rapid or for want of fuel, or -from some defect in the draught, the fire goes out. Of course the -vital heat is not to be confounded with fire but so much for -analogy. It appears, therefore, from the above list, that the -expression, animal life, is nearly synonymous with the expression, -animal heat for while Food may be regarded as the Fuel which keeps -up the fire within us and Fuel serves only to prepare that Food -or to increase the warmth of our bodies by addition from without -Shelter and Clothing also serve only to retain the heat thus -generated and absorbed. -The grand necessity, then, for our bodies, is to keep warm, to -keep the vital heat in us. What pains we accordingly take, not only -with our Food, and Clothing, and Shelter, but with our beds, which -are our nightclothes, robbing the nests and breasts of birds to -prepare this shelter within a shelter, as the mole has its bed of -grass and leaves at the end of its burrow The poor man is wont to -complain that this is a cold world and to cold, no less physical -than social, we refer directly a great part of our ails. The -summer, in some climates, makes possible to man a sort of Elysian -life. Fuel, except to cook his Food, is then unnecessary the sun -is his fire, and many of the fruits are sufficiently cooked by its -rays while Food generally is more various, and more easily -obtained, and Clothing and Shelter are wholly or half unnecessary. -At the present day, and in this country, as I find by my own -experience, a few implements, a knife, an axe, a spade, a -wheelbarrow, etc., and for the studious, lamplight, stationery, and -access to a few books, rank next to necessaries, and can all be -obtained at a trifling cost. Yet some, not wise, go to the other -side of the globe, to barbarous and unhealthy regions, and devote -themselves to trade for ten or twenty years, in order that they may -live that is, keep comfortably warm and die in New England at -last. The luxuriously rich are not simply kept comfortably warm, -but unnaturally hot as I implied before, they are cooked, of course -a la mode. -Most of the luxuries, and many of the socalled comforts of -life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the -elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comforts, the -wisest have ever lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor. -The ancient philosophers, Chinese, Hindoo, Persian, and Greek, were -a class than which none has been poorer in outward riches, none so -rich in inward. We know not much about them. It is remarkable that -we know so much of them as we do. The same is true of the more -modern reformers and benefactors of their race. None can be an -impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground -of what we should call voluntary poverty. Of a life of luxury the -fruit is luxury, whether in agriculture, or commerce, or literature, -or art. There are nowadays professors of philosophy, but not -philosophers. Yet it is admirable to profess because it was once -admirable to live. To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle -thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to -live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, -magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of -life, not only theoretically, but practically. The success of great -scholars and thinkers is commonly a courtierlike success, not -kingly, not manly. They make shift to live merely by conformity, -practically as their fathers did, and are in no sense the -progenitors of a noble race of men. But why do men degenerate ever? -What makes families run out? What is the nature of the luxury which -enervates and destroys nations? Are we sure that there is none of -it in our own lives? The philosopher is in advance of his age even -in the outward form of his life. He is not fed, sheltered, clothed, -warmed, like his contemporaries. How can a man be a philosopher and -not maintain his vital heat by better methods than other men? -When a man is warmed by the several modes which I have -described, what does he want next? Surely not more warmth of the -same kind, as more and richer food, larger and more splendid houses, -finer and more abundant clothing, more numerous, incessant, and -hotter fires, and the like. When he has obtained those things which -are necessary to life, there is another alternative than to obtain -the superfluities and that is, to adventure on life now, his -vacation from humbler toil having commenced. The soil, it appears, -is suited to the seed, for it has sent its radicle downward, and it -may now send its shoot upward also with confidence. Why has man -rooted himself thus firmly in the earth, but that he may rise in the -same proportion into the heavens above? for the nobler plants are -valued for the fruit they bear at last in the air and light, far -from the ground, and are not treated like the humbler esculents, -which, though they may be biennials, are cultivated only till they -have perfected their root, and often cut down at top for this -purpose, so that most would not know them in their flowering season. -I do not mean to prescribe rules to strong and valiant natures, -who will mind their own affairs whether in heaven or hell, and -perchance build more magnificently and spend more lavishly than the -richest, without ever impoverishing themselves, not knowing how they -live if, indeed, there are any such, as has been dreamed nor to -those who find their encouragement and inspiration in precisely the -present condition of things, and cherish it with the fondness and -enthusiasm of lovers and, to some extent, I reckon myself in this -number I do not speak to those who are well employed, in whatever -circumstances, and they know whether they are well employed or not -but mainly to the mass of men who are discontented, and idly -complaining of the hardness of their lot or of the times, when they -might improve them. There are some who complain most energetically -and inconsolably of any, because they are, as they say, doing their -duty. I also have in my mind that seemingly wealthy, but most -terribly impoverished class of all, who have accumulated dross, but -know not how to use it, or get rid of it, and thus have forged their -own golden or silver fetters. -If I should attempt to tell how I have desired to spend my life -in years past, it would probably surprise those of my readers who -are somewhat acquainted with its actual history it would certainly -astonish those who know nothing about it. I will only hint at some -of the enterprises which I have cherished. -In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been -anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too -to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, -which is precisely the present moment to toe that line. You will -pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in my trade than -in most men's, and yet not voluntarily kept, but inseparable from -its very nature. I would gladly tell all that I know about it, and -never paint "No Admittance" on my gate. -I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtle dove, and am -still on their trail. Many are the travellers I have spoken -concerning them, describing their tracks and what calls they -answered to. I have met one or two who had heard the hound, and the -tramp of the horse, and even seen the dove disappear behind a cloud, -and they seemed as anxious to recover them as if they had lost them -themselves. -To anticipate, not the sunrise and the dawn merely, but, if -possible, Nature herself How many mornings, summer and winter, -before yet any neighbor was stirring about his business, have I been -about mine No doubt, many of my townsmen have met me returning -from this enterprise, farmers starting for Boston in the twilight, -or woodchoppers going to their work. It is true, I never assisted -the sun materially in his rising, but, doubt not, it was of the last -importance only to be present at it. -So many autumn, ay, and winter days, spent outside the town, -trying to hear what was in the wind, to hear and carry it express -I wellnigh sunk all my capital in it, and lost my own breath into -the bargain, running in the face of it. If it had concerned either -of the political parties, depend upon it, it would have appeared in -the Gazette with the earliest intelligence. At other times watching -from the observatory of some cliff or tree, to telegraph any new -arrival or waiting at evening on the hilltops for the sky to fall, -that I might catch something, though I never caught much, and that, -mannawise, would dissolve again in the sun. -For a long time I was reporter to a journal, of no very wide -circulation, whose editor has never yet seen fit to print the bulk -of my contributions, and, as is too common with writers, I got only -my labor for my pains. However, in this case my pains were their -own reward. -For many years I was selfappointed inspector of snowstorms and -rainstorms, and did my duty faithfully surveyor, if not of -highways, then of forest paths and all acrosslot routes, keeping -them open, and ravines bridged and passable at all seasons, where -the public heel had testified to their utility. -I have looked after the wild stock of the town, which give a -faithful herdsman a good deal of trouble by leaping fences and I -have had an eye to the unfrequented nooks and corners of the farm -though I did not always know whether Jonas or Solomon worked in a -particular field today that was none of my business. I have -watered the red huckleberry, the sand cherry and the nettletree, -the red pine and the black ash, the white grape and the yellow -violet, which might have withered else in dry seasons. -In short, I went on thus for a long time I may say it without -boasting, faithfully minding my business, till it became more and -more evident that my townsmen would not after all admit me into the -list of town officers, nor make my place a sinecure with a moderate -allowance. My accounts, which I can swear to have kept faithfully, -I have, indeed, never got audited, still less accepted, still less -paid and settled. However, I have not set my heart on that. -Not long since, a strolling Indian went to sell baskets at the -house of a wellknown lawyer in my neighborhood. "Do you wish to -buy any baskets?" he asked. "No, we do not want any," was the -reply. "What" exclaimed the Indian as he went out the gate, "do -you mean to starve us?" Having seen his industrious white neighbors -so well off that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and, by -some magic, wealth and standing followed he had said to himself -I will go into business I will weave baskets it is a thing which I -can do. Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have -done his part, and then it would be the white man's to buy them. He -had not discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth -the other's while to buy them, or at least make him think that it -was so, or to make something else which it would be worth his while -to buy. I too had woven a kind of basket of a delicate texture, but -I had not made it worth any one's while to buy them. Yet not the -less, in my case, did I think it worth my while to weave them, and -instead of studying how to make it worth men's while to buy my -baskets, I studied rather how to avoid the necessity of selling -them. The life which men praise and regard as successful is but one -kind. Why should we exaggerate any one kind at the expense of the -others? -Finding that my fellowcitizens were not likely to offer me any -room in the court house, or any curacy or living anywhere else, but -I must shift for myself, I turned my face more exclusively than ever -to the woods, where I was better known. I determined to go into -business at once, and not wait to acquire the usual capital, using -such slender means as I had already got. My purpose in going to -Walden Pond was not to live cheaply nor to live dearly there, but to -transact some private business with the fewest obstacles to be -hindered from accomplishing which for want of a little common sense, -a little enterprise and business talent, appeared not so sad as -foolish. -I have always endeavored to acquire strict business habits they -are indispensable to every man. If your trade is with the Celestial -Empire, then some small counting house on the coast, in some Salem -harbor, will be fixture enough. You will export such articles as -the country affords, purely native products, much ice and pine -timber and a little granite, always in native bottoms. These will -be good ventures. To oversee all the details yourself in person to -be at once pilot and captain, and owner and underwriter to buy and -sell and keep the accounts to read every letter received, and write -or read every letter sent to superintend the discharge of imports -night and day to be upon many parts of the coast almost at the same -time often the richest freight will be discharged upon a Jersey -shore to be your own telegraph, unweariedly sweeping the -horizon, speaking all passing vessels bound coastwise to keep up a -steady despatch of commodities, for the supply of such a distant and -exorbitant market to keep yourself informed of the state of the -markets, prospects of war and peace everywhere, and anticipate the -tendencies of trade and civilization taking advantage of the -results of all exploring expeditions, using new passages and all -improvements in navigation charts to be studied, the position of -reefs and new lights and buoys to be ascertained, and ever, and -ever, the logarithmic tables to be corrected, for by the error of -some calculator the vessel often splits upon a rock that should have -reached a friendly pier there is the untold fate of La Prouse -universal science to be kept pace with, studying the lives of all -great discoverers and navigators, great adventurers and merchants, -from Hanno and the Phoenicians down to our day in fine, account of -stock to be taken from time to time, to know how you stand. It is a -labor to task the faculties of a man such problems of profit and -loss, of interest, of tare and tret, and gauging of all kinds in it, -as demand a universal knowledge. -I have thought that Walden Pond would be a good place for -business, not solely on account of the railroad and the ice trade -it offers advantages which it may not be good policy to divulge it -is a good port and a good foundation. No Neva marshes to be filled -though you must everywhere build on piles of your own driving. It -is said that a floodtide, with a westerly wind, and ice in the -Neva, would sweep St. Petersburg from the face of the earth. -As this business was to be entered into without the usual -capital, it may not be easy to conjecture where those means, that -will still be indispensable to every such undertaking, were to be -obtained. As for Clothing, to come at once to the practical part of -the question, perhaps we are led oftener by the love of novelty and -a regard for the opinions of men, in procuring it, than by a true -utility. Let him who has work to do recollect that the object of -clothing is, first, to retain the vital heat, and secondly, in this -state of society, to cover nakedness, and he may judge how much of -any necessary or important work may be accomplished without adding -to his wardrobe. Kings and queens who wear a suit but once, though -made by some tailor or dressmaker to their majesties, cannot know -the comfort of wearing a suit that fits. They are no better than -wooden horses to hang the clean clothes on. Every day our garments -become more assimilated to ourselves, receiving the impress of the -wearer's character, until we hesitate to lay them aside without such -delay and medical appliances and some such solemnity even as our -bodies. No man ever stood the lower in my estimation for having a -patch in his clothes yet I am sure that there is greater anxiety, -commonly, to have fashionable, or at least clean and unpatched -clothes, than to have a sound conscience. But even if the rent is -not mended, perhaps the worst vice betrayed is improvidence. I -sometimes try my acquaintances by such tests as this Who could -wear a patch, or two extra seams only, over the knee? Most behave -as if they believed that their prospects for life would be ruined if -they should do it. It would be easier for them to hobble to town -with a broken leg than with a broken pantaloon. Often if an -accident happens to a gentleman's legs, they can be mended but if a -similar accident happens to the legs of his pantaloons, there is no -help for it for he considers, not what is truly respectable, but -what is respected. We know but few men, a great many coats and -breeches. Dress a scarecrow in your last shift, you standing -shiftless by, who would not soonest salute the scarecrow? Passing a -cornfield the other day, close by a hat and coat on a stake, I -recognized the owner of the farm. He was only a little more -weatherbeaten than when I saw him last. I have heard of a dog that -barked at every stranger who approached his master's premises with -clothes on, but was easily quieted by a naked thief. It is an -interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if -they were divested of their clothes. Could you, in such a case, -tell surely of any company of civilized men which belonged to the -most respected class? When Madam Pfeiffer, in her adventurous -travels round the world, from east to west, had got so near home as -Asiatic Russia, she says that she felt the necessity of wearing -other than a travelling dress, when she went to meet the -authorities, for she "was now in a civilized country, where ... -people are judged of by their clothes." Even in our democratic New -England towns the accidental possession of wealth, and its -manifestation in dress and equipage alone, obtain for the possessor -almost universal respect. But they yield such respect, numerous as -they are, are so far heathen, and need to have a missionary sent to -them. Beside, clothes introduced sewing, a kind of work which you -may call endless a woman's dress, at least, is never done. -A man who has at length found something to do will not need to -get a new suit to do it in for him the old will do, that has lain -dusty in the garret for an indeterminate period. Old shoes will -serve a hero longer than they have served his valet if a hero -ever has a valet bare feet are older than shoes, and he can make -them do. Only they who go to soires and legislative balls must -have new coats, coats to change as often as the man changes in them. -But if my jacket and trousers, my hat and shoes, are fit to worship -God in, they will do will they not? Who ever saw his old clothes -his old coat, actually worn out, resolved into its primitive -elements, so that it was not a deed of charity to bestow it on some -poor boy, by him perchance to be bestowed on some poorer still, or -shall we say richer, who could do with less? I say, beware of all -enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of -clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made -to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old -clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to -do, or rather something to be. Perhaps we should never procure a -new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so -conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like -new men in the old, and that to retain it would be like keeping new -wine in old bottles. Our moulting season, like that of the fowls, -must be a crisis in our lives. The loon retires to solitary ponds -to spend it. Thus also the snake casts its slough, and the -caterpillar its wormy coat, by an internal industry and expansion -for clothes are but our outmost cuticle and mortal coil. Otherwise -we shall be found sailing under false colors, and be inevitably -cashiered at last by our own opinion, as well as that of mankind. -We don garment after garment, as if we grew like exogenous -plants by addition without. Our outside and often thin and fanciful -clothes are our epidermis, or false skin, which partakes not of our -life, and may be stripped off here and there without fatal injury -our thicker garments, constantly worn, are our cellular integument, -or cortex but our shirts are our liber, or true bark, which cannot -be removed without girdling and so destroying the man. I believe -that all races at some seasons wear something equivalent to the -shirt. It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay -his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects -so compactly and preparedly that, if an enemy take the town, he can, -like the old philosopher, walk out the gate emptyhanded without -anxiety. While one thick garment is, for most purposes, as good as -three thin ones, and cheap clothing can be obtained at prices really -to suit customers while a thick coat can be bought for five -dollars, which will last as many years, thick pantaloons for two -dollars, cowhide boots for a dollar and a half a pair, a summer hat -for a quarter of a dollar, and a winter cap for sixtytwo and a half -cents, or a better be made at home at a nominal cost, where is he so -poor that, clad in such a suit, of his own earning, there will not -be found wise men to do him reverence? -When I ask for a garment of a particular form, my tailoress -tells me gravely, "They do not make them so now," not emphasizing -the "They" at all, as if she quoted an authority as impersonal as -the Fates, and I find it difficult to get made what I want, simply -because she cannot believe that I mean what I say, that I am so -rash. When I hear this oracular sentence, I am for a moment -absorbed in thought, emphasizing to myself each word separately that -I may come at the meaning of it, that I may find out by what degree -of consanguinity They are related to me, and what authority they -may have in an affair which affects me so nearly and, finally, I am -inclined to answer her with equal mystery, and without any more -emphasis of the "they" "It is true, they did not make them so -recently, but they do now." Of what use this measuring of me if she -does not measure my character, but only the breadth of my shoulders, -as it were a peg to bang the coat on? We worship not the Graces, -nor the Parcae, but Fashion. She spins and weaves and cuts with -full authority. The head monkey at Paris puts on a traveller's cap, -and all the monkeys in America do the same. I sometimes despair of -getting anything quite simple and honest done in this world by the -help of men. They would have to be passed through a powerful press -first, to squeeze their old notions out of them, so that they would -not soon get upon their legs again and then there would be some one -in the company with a maggot in his head, hatched from an egg -deposited there nobody knows when, for not even fire kills these -things, and you would have lost your labor. Nevertheless, we will -not forget that some Egyptian wheat was handed down to us by a -mummy. -On the whole, I think that it cannot be maintained that dressing -has in this or any country risen to the dignity of an art. At -present men make shift to wear what they can get. Like shipwrecked -sailors, they put on what they can find on the beach, and at a -little distance, whether of space or time, laugh at each other's -masquerade. Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but -follows religiously the new. We are amused at beholding the costume -of Henry VIII, or Queen Elizabeth, as much as if it was that of the -King and Queen of the Cannibal Islands. All costume off a man is -pitiful or grotesque. It is only the serious eye peering from and -the sincere life passed within it which restrain laughter and -consecrate the costume of any people. Let Harlequin be taken with a -fit of the colic and his trappings will have to serve that mood too. -When the soldier is hit by a cannonball, rags are as becoming as -purple. -The childish and savage taste of men and women for new patterns -keeps how many shaking and squinting through kaleidoscopes that they -may discover the particular figure which this generation requires -today. The manufacturers have learned that this taste is merely -whimsical. Of two patterns which differ only by a few threads more -or less of a particular color, the one will be sold readily, the -other lie on the shelf, though it frequently happens that after the -lapse of a season the latter becomes the most fashionable. -Comparatively, tattooing is not the hideous custom which it is -called. It is not barbarous merely because the printing is -skindeep and unalterable. -I cannot believe that our factory system is the best mode by -which men may get clothing. The condition of the operatives is -becoming every day more like that of the English and it cannot be -wondered at, since, as far as I have heard or observed, the -principal object is, not that mankind may be well and honestly clad, -but, unquestionably, that corporations may be enriched. In the long -run men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, though they should -fail immediately, they had better aim at something high. -As for a Shelter, I will not deny that this is now a necessary -of life, though there are instances of men having done without it -for long periods in colder countries than this. Samuel Laing says -that "the Laplander in his skin dress, and in a skin bag which he -puts over his head and shoulders, will sleep night after night on -the snow ... in a degree of cold which would extinguish the life of -one exposed to it in any woollen clothing." He had seen them asleep -thus. Yet he adds, "They are not hardier than other people." But, -probably, man did not live long on the earth without discovering the -convenience which there is in a house, the domestic comforts, which -phrase may have originally signified the satisfactions of the house -more than of the family though these must be extremely partial and -occasional in those climates where the house is associated in our -thoughts with winter or the rainy season chiefly, and two thirds of -the year, except for a parasol, is unnecessary. In our climate, in -the summer, it was formerly almost solely a covering at night. In -the Indian gazettes a wigwam was the symbol of a day's march, and a -row of them cut or painted on the bark of a tree signified that so -many times they had camped. Man was not made so large limbed and -robust but that he must seek to narrow his world and wall in a space -such as fitted him. He was at first bare and out of doors but -though this was pleasant enough in serene and warm weather, by -daylight, the rainy season and the winter, to say nothing of the -torrid sun, would perhaps have nipped his race in the bud if he had -not made haste to clothe himself with the shelter of a house. Adam -and Eve, according to the fable, wore the bower before other -clothes. Man wanted a home, a place of warmth, or comfort, first of -warmth, then the warmth of the affections. -We may imagine a time when, in the infancy of the human race, -some enterprising mortal crept into a hollow in a rock for shelter. -Every child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to -stay outdoors, even in wet and cold. It plays house, as well as -horse, having an instinct for it. Who does not remember the -interest with which, when young, he looked at shelving rocks, or any -approach to a cave? It was the natural yearning of that portion, -any portion of our most primitive ancestor which still survived in -us. From the cave we have advanced to roofs of palm leaves, of bark -and boughs, of linen woven and stretched, of grass and straw, of -boards and shingles, of stones and tiles. At last, we know not what -it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more -senses than we think. From the hearth the field is a great -distance. It would be well, perhaps, if we were to spend more of -our days and nights without any obstruction between us and the -celestial bodies, if the poet did not speak so much from under a -roof, or the saint dwell there so long. Birds do not sing in caves, -nor do doves cherish their innocence in dovecots. -However, if one designs to construct a dwellinghouse, it -behooves him to exercise a little Yankee shrewdness, lest after all -he find himself in a workhouse, a labyrinth without a clue, a -museum, an almshouse, a prison, or a splendid mausoleum instead. -Consider first how slight a shelter is absolutely necessary. I have -seen Penobscot Indians, in this town, living in tents of thin cotton -cloth, while the snow was nearly a foot deep around them, and I -thought that they would be glad to have it deeper to keep out the -wind. Formerly, when how to get my living honestly, with freedom -left for my proper pursuits, was a question which vexed me even more -than it does now, for unfortunately I am become somewhat callous, I -used to see a large box by the railroad, six feet long by three -wide, in which the laborers locked up their tools at night and it -suggested to me that every man who was hard pushed might get such a -one for a dollar, and, having bored a few auger holes in it, to -admit the air at least, get into it when it rained and at night, and -hook down the lid, and so have freedom in his love, and in his soul -be free. This did not appear the worst, nor by any means a -despicable alternative. You could sit up as late as you pleased, -and, whenever you got up, go abroad without any landlord or -houselord dogging you for rent. Many a man is harassed to death to -pay the rent of a larger and more luxurious box who would not have -frozen to death in such a box as this. I am far from jesting. -Economy is a subject which admits of being treated with levity, but -it cannot so be disposed of. A comfortable house for a rude and -hardy race, that lived mostly out of doors, was once made here -almost entirely of such materials as Nature furnished ready to their -hands. Gookin, who was superintendent of the Indians subject to the -Massachusetts Colony, writing in , says, "The best of their -houses are covered very neatly, tight and warm, with barks of trees, -slipped from their bodies at those seasons when the sap is up, and -made into great flakes, with pressure of weighty timber, when they -are green.... The meaner sort are covered with mats which they make -of a kind of bulrush, and are also indifferently tight and warm, but -not so good as the former.... Some I have seen, sixty or a hundred -feet long and thirty feet broad.... I have often lodged in their -wigwams, and found them as warm as the best English houses." He -adds that they were commonly carpeted and lined within with -wellwrought embroidered mats, and were furnished with various -utensils. The Indians had advanced so far as to regulate the effect -of the wind by a mat suspended over the hole in the roof and moved -by a string. Such a lodge was in the first instance constructed in -a day or two at most, and taken down and put up in a few hours and -every family owned one, or its apartment in one. -In the savage state every family owns a shelter as good as the -best, and sufficient for its coarser and simpler wants but I think -that I speak within bounds when I say that, though the birds of the -air have their nests, and the foxes their holes, and the savages -their wigwams, in modern civilized society not more than one half -the families own a shelter. In the large towns and cities, where -civilization especially prevails, the number of those who own a -shelter is a very small fraction of the whole. The rest pay an -annual tax for this outside garment of all, become indispensable -summer and winter, which would buy a village of Indian wigwams, but -now helps to keep them poor as long as they live. I do not mean to -insist here on the disadvantage of hiring compared with owning, but -it is evident that the savage owns his shelter because it costs so -little, while the civilized man hires his commonly because he cannot -afford to own it nor can he, in the long run, any better afford to -hire. But, answers one, by merely paying this tax, the poor -civilized man secures an abode which is a palace compared with the -savage's. An annual rent of from twentyfive to a hundred dollars -these are the country rates entitles him to the benefit of the -improvements of centuries, spacious apartments, clean paint and -paper, Rumford fireplace, back plastering, Venetian blinds, copper -pump, spring lock, a commodious cellar, and many other things. But -how happens it that he who is said to enjoy these things is so -commonly a poor civilized man, while the savage, who has them not, -is rich as a savage? If it is asserted that civilization is a real -advance in the condition of man and I think that it is, though -only the wise improve their advantages it must be shown that it -has produced better dwellings without making them more costly and -the cost of a thing is the amount of what I will call life which is -required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run. An -average house in this neighborhood costs perhaps eight hundred -dollars, and to lay up this sum will take from ten to fifteen years -of the laborer's life, even if he is not encumbered with a family -estimating the pecuniary value of every man's labor at one dollar a -day, for if some receive more, others receive less so that he -must have spent more than half his life commonly before his wigwam -will be earned. If we suppose him to pay a rent instead, this is -but a doubtful choice of evils. Would the savage have been wise to -exchange his wigwam for a palace on these terms? -It may be guessed that I reduce almost the whole advantage of -holding this superfluous property as a fund in store against the -future, so far as the individual is concerned, mainly to the -defraying of funeral expenses. But perhaps a man is not required to -bury himself. Nevertheless this points to an important distinction -between the civilized man and the savage and, no doubt, they have -designs on us for our benefit, in making the life of a civilized -people an institution, in which the life of the individual is to a -great extent absorbed, in order to preserve and perfect that of the -race. But I wish to show at what a sacrifice this advantage is at -present obtained, and to suggest that we may possibly so live as to -secure all the advantage without suffering any of the disadvantage. -What mean ye by saying that the poor ye have always with you, or -that the fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth -are set on edge? -"As I live, saith the Lord God, ye shall not have occasion any -more to use this proverb in Israel. -"Behold all souls are mine as the soul of the father, so also -the soul of the son is mine the soul that sinneth, it shall die." -When I consider my neighbors, the farmers of Concord, who are at -least as well off as the other classes, I find that for the most -part they have been toiling twenty, thirty, or forty years, that -they may become the real owners of their farms, which commonly they -have inherited with encumbrances, or else bought with hired money -and we may regard one third of that toil as the cost of their houses -but commonly they have not paid for them yet. It is true, the -encumbrances sometimes outweigh the value of the farm, so that the -farm itself becomes one great encumbrance, and still a man is found -to inherit it, being well acquainted with it, as he says. On -applying to the assessors, I am surprised to learn that they cannot -at once name a dozen in the town who own their farms free and clear. -If you would know the history of these homesteads, inquire at the -bank where they are mortgaged. The man who has actually paid for -his farm with labor on it is so rare that every neighbor can point -to him. I doubt if there are three such men in Concord. What has -been said of the merchants, that a very large majority, even -ninetyseven in a hundred, are sure to fail, is equally true of the -farmers. With regard to the merchants, however, one of them says -pertinently that a great part of their failures are not genuine -pecuniary failures, but merely failures to fulfil their engagements, -because it is inconvenient that is, it is the moral character that -breaks down. But this puts an infinitely worse face on the matter, -and suggests, beside, that probably not even the other three succeed -in saving their souls, but are perchance bankrupt in a worse sense -than they who fail honestly. Bankruptcy and repudiation are the -springboards from which much of our civilization vaults and turns -its somersets, but the savage stands on the unelastic plank of -famine. Yet the Middlesex Cattle Show goes off here with eclat -annually, as if all the joints of the agricultural machine were -suent. -The farmer is endeavoring to solve the problem of a livelihood -by a formula more complicated than the problem itself. To get his -shoestrings he speculates in herds of cattle. With consummate skill -he has set his trap with a hair spring to catch comfort and -independence, and then, as he turned away, got his own leg into it. -This is the reason he is poor and for a similar reason we are all -poor in respect to a thousand savage comforts, though surrounded by -luxuries. As Chapman sings, -"The false society of men -for earthly greatness -All heavenly comforts rarefies to air." -And when the farmer has got his house, he may not be the richer -but the poorer for it, and it be the house that has got him. As I -understand it, that was a valid objection urged by Momus against the -house which Minerva made, that she "had not made it movable, by -which means a bad neighborhood might be avoided" and it may still -be urged, for our houses are such unwieldy property that we are -often imprisoned rather than housed in them and the bad -neighborhood to be avoided is our own scurvy selves. I know one or -two families, at least, in this town, who, for nearly a generation, -have been wishing to sell their houses in the outskirts and move -into the village, but have not been able to accomplish it, and only -death will set them free. -Granted that the majority are able at last either to own or hire -the modern house with all its improvements. While civilization has -been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who -are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was not so easy -to create noblemen and kings. And if the civilized man's pursuits -are no worthier than the savage's, if he is employed the greater -part of his life in obtaining gross necessaries and comforts merely, -why should he have a better dwelling than the former? -But how do the poor minority fare? Perhaps it will be found -that just in proportion as some have been placed in outward -circumstances above the savage, others have been degraded below him. -The luxury of one class is counterbalanced by the indigence of -another. On the one side is the palace, on the other are the -almshouse and "silent poor." The myriads who built the pyramids to -be the tombs of the Pharaohs were fed on garlic, and it may be were -not decently buried themselves. The mason who finishes the cornice -of the palace returns at night perchance to a hut not so good as a -wigwam. It is a mistake to suppose that, in a country where the -usual evidences of civilization exist, the condition of a very large -body of the inhabitants may not be as degraded as that of savages. -I refer to the degraded poor, not now to the degraded rich. To know -this I should not need to look farther than to the shanties which -everywhere border our railroads, that last improvement in -civilization where I see in my daily walks human beings living in -sties, and all winter with an open door, for the sake of light, -without any visible, often imaginable, woodpile, and the forms of -both old and young are permanently contracted by the long habit of -shrinking from cold and misery, and the development of all their -limbs and faculties is checked. It certainly is fair to look at -that class by whose labor the works which distinguish this -generation are accomplished. Such too, to a greater or less extent, -is the condition of the operatives of every denomination in England, -which is the great workhouse of the world. Or I could refer you to -Ireland, which is marked as one of the white or enlightened spots on -the map. Contrast the physical condition of the Irish with that of -the North American Indian, or the South Sea Islander, or any other -savage race before it was degraded by contact with the civilized -man. Yet I have no doubt that that people's rulers are as wise as -the average of civilized rulers. Their condition only proves what -squalidness may consist with civilization. I hardly need refer now -to the laborers in our Southern States who produce the staple -exports of this country, and are themselves a staple production of -the South. But to confine myself to those who are said to be in -moderate circumstances. -Most men appear never to have considered what a house is, and -are actually though needlessly poor all their lives because they -think that they must have such a one as their neighbors have. As if -one were to wear any sort of coat which the tailor might cut out for -him, or, gradually leaving off palmleaf hat or cap of woodchuck -skin, complain of hard times because he could not afford to buy him -a crown It is possible to invent a house still more convenient and -luxurious than we have, which yet all would admit that man could not -afford to pay for. Shall we always study to obtain more of these -things, and not sometimes to be content with less? Shall the -respectable citizen thus gravely teach, by precept and example, the -necessity of the young man's providing a certain number of -superfluous glowshoes, and umbrellas, and empty guest chambers for -empty guests, before he dies? Why should not our furniture be as -simple as the Arab's or the Indian's? When I think of the -benefactors of the race, whom we have apotheosized as messengers -from heaven, bearers of divine gifts to man, I do not see in my mind -any retinue at their heels, any carload of fashionable furniture. -Or what if I were to allow would it not be a singular allowance? -that our furniture should be more complex than the Arab's, in -proportion as we are morally and intellectually his superiors At -present our houses are cluttered and defiled with it, and a good -housewife would sweep out the greater part into the dust hole, and -not leave her morning's work undone. Morning work By the blushes -of Aurora and the music of Memnon, what should be man's morning work -in this world? I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I -was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when -the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out -the window in disgust. How, then, could I have a furnished house? -I would rather sit in the open air, for no dust gathers on the -grass, unless where man has broken ground. -It is the luxurious and dissipated who set the fashions which -the herd so diligently follow. The traveller who stops at the best -houses, so called, soon discovers this, for the publicans presume -him to be a Sardanapalus, and if he resigned himself to their tender -mercies he would soon be completely emasculated. I think that in -the railroad car we are inclined to spend more on luxury than on -safety and convenience, and it threatens without attaining these to -become no better than a modern drawingroom, with its divans, and -ottomans, and sunshades, and a hundred other oriental things, which -we are taking west with us, invented for the ladies of the harem and -the effeminate natives of the Celestial Empire, which Jonathan -should be ashamed to know the names of. I would rather sit on a -pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet -cushion. I would rather ride on earth in an ox cart, with a free -circulation, than go to heaven in the fancy car of an excursion -train and breathe a malaria all the way. -The very simplicity and nakedness of man's life in the primitive -ages imply this advantage, at least, that they left him still but a -sojourner in nature. When he was refreshed with food and sleep, he -contemplated his journey again. He dwelt, as it were, in a tent in -this world, and was either threading the valleys, or crossing the -plains, or climbing the mountaintops. But lo men have become the -tools of their tools. The man who independently plucked the fruits -when he was hungry is become a farmer and he who stood under a tree -for shelter, a housekeeper. We now no longer camp as for a night, -but have settled down on earth and forgotten heaven. We have -adopted Christianity merely as an improved method of agriculture. -We have built for this world a family mansion, and for the next a -family tomb. The best works of art are the expression of man's -struggle to free himself from this condition, but the effect of our -art is merely to make this low state comfortable and that higher -state to be forgotten. There is actually no place in this village -for a work of fine art, if any had come down to us, to stand, for -our lives, our houses and streets, furnish no proper pedestal for -it. There is not a nail to hang a picture on, nor a shelf to -receive the bust of a hero or a saint. When I consider how our -houses are built and paid for, or not paid for, and their internal -economy managed and sustained, I wonder that the floor does not give -way under the visitor while he is admiring the gewgaws upon the -mantelpiece, and let him through into the cellar, to some solid and -honest though earthy foundation. I cannot but perceive that this -socalled rich and refined life is a thing jumped at, and I do not -get on in the enjoyment of the fine arts which adorn it, my -attention being wholly occupied with the jump for I remember that -the greatest genuine leap, due to human muscles alone, on record, is -that of certain wandering Arabs, who are said to have cleared -twentyfive feet on level ground. Without factitious support, man -is sure to come to earth again beyond that distance. The first -question which I am tempted to put to the proprietor of such great -impropriety is, Who bolsters you? Are you one of the ninetyseven -who fail, or the three who succeed? Answer me these questions, and -then perhaps I may look at your bawbles and find them ornamental. -The cart before the horse is neither beautiful nor useful. Before -we can adorn our houses with beautiful objects the walls must be -stripped, and our lives must be stripped, and beautiful housekeeping -and beautiful living be laid for a foundation now, a taste for the -beautiful is most cultivated out of doors, where there is no house -and no housekeeper. -Old Johnson, in his "WonderWorking Providence," speaking of the -first settlers of this town, with whom he was contemporary, tells us -that "they burrow themselves in the earth for their first shelter -under some hillside, and, casting the soil aloft upon timber, they -make a smoky fire against the earth, at the highest side." They did -not "provide them houses," says he, "till the earth, by the Lord's -blessing, brought forth bread to feed them," and the first year's -crop was so light that "they were forced to cut their bread very -thin for a long season." The secretary of the Province of New -Netherland, writing in Dutch, in , for the information of those -who wished to take up land there, states more particularly that -"those in New Netherland, and especially in New England, who have no -means to build farmhouses at first according to their wishes, dig a -square pit in the ground, cellar fashion, six or seven feet deep, as -long and as broad as they think proper, case the earth inside with -wood all round the wall, and line the wood with the bark of trees or -something else to prevent the caving in of the earth floor this -cellar with plank, and wainscot it overhead for a ceiling, raise a -roof of spars clear up, and cover the spars with bark or green sods, -so that they can live dry and warm in these houses with their entire -families for two, three, and four years, it being understood that -partitions are run through those cellars which are adapted to the -size of the family. The wealthy and principal men in New England, -in the beginning of the colonies, commenced their first -dwellinghouses in this fashion for two reasons firstly, in order -not to waste time in building, and not to want food the next season -secondly, in order not to discourage poor laboring people whom they -brought over in numbers from Fatherland. In the course of three or -four years, when the country became adapted to agriculture, they -built themselves handsome houses, spending on them several -thousands." -In this course which our ancestors took there was a show of -prudence at least, as if their principle were to satisfy the more -pressing wants first. But are the more pressing wants satisfied -now? When I think of acquiring for myself one of our luxurious -dwellings, I am deterred, for, so to speak, the country is not yet -adapted to human culture, and we are still forced to cut our -spiritual bread far thinner than our forefathers did their wheaten. -Not that all architectural ornament is to be neglected even in the -rudest periods but let our houses first be lined with beauty, where -they come in contact with our lives, like the tenement of the -shellfish, and not overlaid with it. But, alas I have been inside -one or two of them, and know what they are lined with. -Though we are not so degenerate but that we might possibly live -in a cave or a wigwam or wear skins today, it certainly is better to -accept the advantages, though so dearly bought, which the invention -and industry of mankind offer. In such a neighborhood as this, -boards and shingles, lime and bricks, are cheaper and more easily -obtained than suitable caves, or whole logs, or bark in sufficient -quantities, or even welltempered clay or flat stones. I speak -understandingly on this subject, for I have made myself acquainted -with it both theoretically and practically. With a little more wit -we might use these materials so as to become richer than the richest -now are, and make our civilization a blessing. The civilized man is -a more experienced and wiser savage. But to make haste to my own -experiment. -Near the end of March, , I borrowed an axe and went down to -the woods by Walden Pond, nearest to where I intended to build my -house, and began to cut down some tall, arrowy white pines, still in -their youth, for timber. It is difficult to begin without -borrowing, but perhaps it is the most generous course thus to permit -your fellowmen to have an interest in your enterprise. The owner -of the axe, as he released his hold on it, said that it was the -apple of his eye but I returned it sharper than I received it. It -was a pleasant hillside where I worked, covered with pine woods, -through which I looked out on the pond, and a small open field in -the woods where pines and hickories were springing up. The ice in -the pond was not yet dissolved, though there were some open spaces, -and it was all darkcolored and saturated with water. There were -some slight flurries of snow during the days that I worked there -but for the most part when I came out on to the railroad, on my way -home, its yellow sand heap stretched away gleaming in the hazy -atmosphere, and the rails shone in the spring sun, and I heard the -lark and pewee and other birds already come to commence another year -with us. They were pleasant spring days, in which the winter of -man's discontent was thawing as well as the earth, and the life that -had lain torpid began to stretch itself. One day, when my axe had -come off and I had cut a green hickory for a wedge, driving it with -a stone, and had placed the whole to soak in a pondhole in order to -swell the wood, I saw a striped snake run into the water, and he lay -on the bottom, apparently without inconvenience, as long as I stayed -there, or more than a quarter of an hour perhaps because he had not -yet fairly come out of the torpid state. It appeared to me that for -a like reason men remain in their present low and primitive -condition but if they should feel the influence of the spring of -springs arousing them, they would of necessity rise to a higher and -more ethereal life. I had previously seen the snakes in frosty -mornings in my path with portions of their bodies still numb and -inflexible, waiting for the sun to thaw them. On the st of April -it rained and melted the ice, and in the early part of the day, -which was very foggy, I heard a stray goose groping about over the -pond and cackling as if lost, or like the spirit of the fog. -So I went on for some days cutting and hewing timber, and also -studs and rafters, all with my narrow axe, not having many -communicable or scholarlike thoughts, singing to myself, -Men say they know many things -But lo they have taken wings -The arts and sciences, -And a thousand appliances -The wind that blows -Is all that any body knows. -I hewed the main timbers six inches square, most of the studs on -two sides only, and the rafters and floor timbers on one side, -leaving the rest of the bark on, so that they were just as straight -and much stronger than sawed ones. Each stick was carefully -mortised or tenoned by its stump, for I had borrowed other tools by -this time. My days in the woods were not very long ones yet I -usually carried my dinner of bread and butter, and read the -newspaper in which it was wrapped, at noon, sitting amid the green -pine boughs which I had cut off, and to my bread was imparted some -of their fragrance, for my hands were covered with a thick coat of -pitch. Before I had done I was more the friend than the foe of the -pine tree, though I had cut down some of them, having become better -acquainted with it. Sometimes a rambler in the wood was attracted -by the sound of my axe, and we chatted pleasantly over the chips -which I had made. -By the middle of April, for I made no haste in my work, but -rather made the most of it, my house was framed and ready for the -raising. I had already bought the shanty of James Collins, an -Irishman who worked on the Fitchburg Railroad, for boards. James -Collins' shanty was considered an uncommonly fine one. When I -called to see it he was not at home. I walked about the outside, at -first unobserved from within, the window was so deep and high. It -was of small dimensions, with a peaked cottage roof, and not much -else to be seen, the dirt being raised five feet all around as if it -were a compost heap. The roof was the soundest part, though a good -deal warped and made brittle by the sun. Doorsill there was none, -but a perennial passage for the hens under the door board. Mrs. C. -came to the door and asked me to view it from the inside. The hens -were driven in by my approach. It was dark, and had a dirt floor -for the most part, dank, clammy, and aguish, only here a board and -there a board which would not bear removal. She lighted a lamp to -show me the inside of the roof and the walls, and also that the -board floor extended under the bed, warning me not to step into the -cellar, a sort of dust hole two feet deep. In her own words, they -were "good boards overhead, good boards all around, and a good -window" of two whole squares originally, only the cat had passed -out that way lately. There was a stove, a bed, and a place to sit, -an infant in the house where it was born, a silk parasol, -giltframed lookingglass, and a patent new coffeemill nailed to an -oak sapling, all told. The bargain was soon concluded, for James -had in the meanwhile returned. I to pay four dollars and -twentyfive cents tonight, he to vacate at five tomorrow morning, -selling to nobody else meanwhile I to take possession at six. It -were well, he said, to be there early, and anticipate certain -indistinct but wholly unjust claims on the score of ground rent and -fuel. This he assured me was the only encumbrance. At six I passed -him and his family on the road. One large bundle held their all -bed, coffeemill, lookingglass, hens all but the cat she took -to the woods and became a wild cat, and, as I learned afterward, -trod in a trap set for woodchucks, and so became a dead cat at last. -I took down this dwelling the same morning, drawing the nails, -and removed it to the pondside by small cartloads, spreading the -boards on the grass there to bleach and warp back again in the sun. -One early thrush gave me a note or two as I drove along the woodland -path. I was informed treacherously by a young Patrick that neighbor -Seeley, an Irishman, in the intervals of the carting, transferred -the still tolerable, straight, and drivable nails, staples, and -spikes to his pocket, and then stood when I came back to pass the -time of day, and look freshly up, unconcerned, with spring thoughts, -at the devastation there being a dearth of work, as he said. He -was there to represent spectatordom, and help make this seemingly -insignificant event one with the removal of the gods of Troy. -I dug my cellar in the side of a hill sloping to the south, -where a woodchuck had formerly dug his burrow, down through sumach -and blackberry roots, and the lowest stain of vegetation, six feet -square by seven deep, to a fine sand where potatoes would not freeze -in any winter. The sides were left shelving, and not stoned but -the sun having never shone on them, the sand still keeps its place. -It was but two hours' work. I took particular pleasure in this -breaking of ground, for in almost all latitudes men dig into the -earth for an equable temperature. Under the most splendid house in -the city is still to be found the cellar where they store their -roots as of old, and long after the superstructure has disappeared -posterity remark its dent in the earth. The house is still but a -sort of porch at the entrance of a burrow. -At length, in the beginning of May, with the help of some of my -acquaintances, rather to improve so good an occasion for -neighborliness than from any necessity, I set up the frame of my -house. No man was ever more honored in the character of his raisers -than I. They are destined, I trust, to assist at the raising of -loftier structures one day. I began to occupy my house on the th -of July, as soon as it was boarded and roofed, for the boards were -carefully featheredged and lapped, so that it was perfectly -impervious to rain, but before boarding I laid the foundation of a -chimney at one end, bringing two cartloads of stones up the hill -from the pond in my arms. I built the chimney after my hoeing in -the fall, before a fire became necessary for warmth, doing my -cooking in the meanwhile out of doors on the ground, early in the -morning which mode I still think is in some respects more -convenient and agreeable than the usual one. When it stormed before -my bread was baked, I fixed a few boards over the fire, and sat -under them to watch my loaf, and passed some pleasant hours in that -way. In those days, when my hands were much employed, I read but -little, but the least scraps of paper which lay on the ground, my -holder, or tablecloth, afforded me as much entertainment, in fact -answered the same purpose as the Iliad. -It would be worth the while to build still more deliberately -than I did, considering, for instance, what foundation a door, a -window, a cellar, a garret, have in the nature of man, and perchance -never raising any superstructure until we found a better reason for -it than our temporal necessities even. There is some of the same -fitness in a man's building his own house that there is in a bird's -building its own nest. Who knows but if men constructed their -dwellings with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and -families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be -universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so -engaged? But alas we do like cowbirds and cuckoos, which lay their -eggs in nests which other birds have built, and cheer no traveller -with their chattering and unmusical notes. Shall we forever resign -the pleasure of construction to the carpenter? What does -architecture amount to in the experience of the mass of men? I -never in all my walks came across a man engaged in so simple and -natural an occupation as building his house. We belong to the -community. It is not the tailor alone who is the ninth part of a -man it is as much the preacher, and the merchant, and the farmer. -Where is this division of labor to end? and what object does it -finally serve? No doubt another may also think for me but it is -not therefore desirable that he should do so to the exclusion of my -thinking for myself. -True, there are architects so called in this country, and I have -heard of one at least possessed with the idea of making -architectural ornaments have a core of truth, a necessity, and hence -a beauty, as if it were a revelation to him. All very well perhaps -from his point of view, but only a little better than the common -dilettantism. A sentimental reformer in architecture, he began at -the cornice, not at the foundation. It was only how to put a core -of truth within the ornaments, that every sugarplum, in fact, might -have an almond or caraway seed in it though I hold that almonds -are most wholesome without the sugar and not how the inhabitant, -the indweller, might build truly within and without, and let the -ornaments take care of themselves. What reasonable man ever -supposed that ornaments were something outward and in the skin -merely that the tortoise got his spotted shell, or the shellfish -its mothero'pearl tints, by such a contract as the inhabitants of -Broadway their Trinity Church? But a man has no more to do with the -style of architecture of his house than a tortoise with that of its -shell nor need the soldier be so idle as to try to paint the -precise color of his virtue on his standard. The enemy will find it -out. He may turn pale when the trial comes. This man seemed to me -to lean over the cornice, and timidly whisper his half truth to the -rude occupants who really knew it better than he. What of -architectural beauty I now see, I know has gradually grown from -within outward, out of the necessities and character of the -indweller, who is the only builder out of some unconscious -truthfulness, and nobleness, without ever a thought for the -appearance and whatever additional beauty of this kind is destined -to be produced will be preceded by a like unconscious beauty of -life. The most interesting dwellings in this country, as the -painter knows, are the most unpretending, humble log huts and -cottages of the poor commonly it is the life of the inhabitants -whose shells they are, and not any peculiarity in their surfaces -merely, which makes them picturesque and equally interesting will -be the citizen's suburban box, when his life shall be as simple and -as agreeable to the imagination, and there is as little straining -after effect in the style of his dwelling. A great proportion of -architectural ornaments are literally hollow, and a September gale -would strip them off, like borrowed plumes, without injury to the -substantials. They can do without architecture who have no olives -nor wines in the cellar. What if an equal ado were made about the -ornaments of style in literature, and the architects of our bibles -spent as much time about their cornices as the architects of our -churches do? So are made the belleslettres and the beauxarts and -their professors. Much it concerns a man, forsooth, how a few -sticks are slanted over him or under him, and what colors are daubed -upon his box. It would signify somewhat, if, in any earnest sense, -he slanted them and daubed it but the spirit having departed out of -the tenant, it is of a piece with constructing his own coffin the -architecture of the grave and "carpenter" is but another name for -"coffinmaker." One man says, in his despair or indifference to -life, take up a handful of the earth at your feet, and paint your -house that color. Is he thinking of his last and narrow house? -Toss up a copper for it as well. What an abundance of leisure be -must have Why do you take up a handful of dirt? Better paint your -house your own complexion let it turn pale or blush for you. An -enterprise to improve the style of cottage architecture When you -have got my ornaments ready, I will wear them. -Before winter I built a chimney, and shingled the sides of my -house, which were already impervious to rain, with imperfect and -sappy shingles made of the first slice of the log, whose edges I was -obliged to straighten with a plane. -I have thus a tight shingled and plastered house, ten feet wide -by fifteen long, and eightfeet posts, with a garret and a closet, a -large window on each side, two trap doors, one door at the end, and -a brick fireplace opposite. The exact cost of my house, paying the -usual price for such materials as I used, but not counting the work, -all of which was done by myself, was as follows and I give the -details because very few are able to tell exactly what their houses -cost, and fewer still, if any, the separate cost of the various -materials which compose them -Boards .......................... ., mostly shanty boards. -Refuse shingles for roof sides ... . -Laths ............................ . -Two secondhand windows -with glass .................... . -One thousand old brick ........... . -Two casks of lime ................ . That was high. -Hair ............................. . More than I needed. -Mantletree iron ................. . -Nails ............................ . -Hinges and screws ................ . -Latch ............................ . -Chalk ............................ . -Transportation ................... . I carried a good part -on my back. -In all ...................... . -These are all the materials, excepting the timber, stones, and -sand, which I claimed by squatter's right. I have also a small -woodshed adjoining, made chiefly of the stuff which was left after -building the house. -I intend to build me a house which will surpass any on the main -street in Concord in grandeur and luxury, as soon as it pleases me -as much and will cost me no more than my present one. -I thus found that the student who wishes for a shelter can -obtain one for a lifetime at an expense not greater than the rent -which he now pays annually. If I seem to boast more than is -becoming, my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for -myself and my shortcomings and inconsistencies do not affect the -truth of my statement. Notwithstanding much cant and hypocrisy -chaff which I find it difficult to separate from my wheat, but for -which I am as sorry as any man I will breathe freely and stretch -myself in this respect, it is such a relief to both the moral and -physical system and I am resolved that I will not through humility -become the devil's attorney. I will endeavor to speak a good word -for the truth. At Cambridge College the mere rent of a student's -room, which is only a little larger than my own, is thirty dollars -each year, though the corporation had the advantage of building -thirtytwo side by side and under one roof, and the occupant suffers -the inconvenience of many and noisy neighbors, and perhaps a -residence in the fourth story. I cannot but think that if we had -more true wisdom in these respects, not only less education would be -needed, because, forsooth, more would already have been acquired, -but the pecuniary expense of getting an education would in a great -measure vanish. Those conveniences which the student requires at -Cambridge or elsewhere cost him or somebody else ten times as great -a sacrifice of life as they would with proper management on both -sides. Those things for which the most money is demanded are never -the things which the student most wants. Tuition, for instance, is -an important item in the term bill, while for the far more valuable -education which he gets by associating with the most cultivated of -his contemporaries no charge is made. The mode of founding a -college is, commonly, to get up a subscription of dollars and cents, -and then, following blindly the principles of a division of labor to -its extreme a principle which should never be followed but with -circumspection to call in a contractor who makes this a subject -of speculation, and he employs Irishmen or other operatives actually -to lay the foundations, while the students that are to be are said -to be fitting themselves for it and for these oversights successive -generations have to pay. I think that it would be better than this, -for the students, or those who desire to be benefited by it, even to -lay the foundation themselves. The student who secures his coveted -leisure and retirement by systematically shirking any labor -necessary to man obtains but an ignoble and unprofitable leisure, -defrauding himself of the experience which alone can make leisure -fruitful. "But," says one, "you do not mean that the students -should go to work with their hands instead of their heads?" I do -not mean that exactly, but I mean something which he might think a -good deal like that I mean that they should not play life, or study -it merely, while the community supports them at this expensive game, -but earnestly live it from beginning to end. How could youths -better learn to live than by at once trying the experiment of -living? Methinks this would exercise their minds as much as -mathematics. If I wished a boy to know something about the arts and -sciences, for instance, I would not pursue the common course, which -is merely to send him into the neighborhood of some professor, where -anything is professed and practised but the art of life to -survey the world through a telescope or a microscope, and never with -his natural eye to study chemistry, and not learn how his bread is -made, or mechanics, and not learn how it is earned to discover new -satellites to Neptune, and not detect the motes in his eyes, or to -what vagabond he is a satellite himself or to be devoured by the -monsters that swarm all around him, while contemplating the monsters -in a drop of vinegar. Which would have advanced the most at the end -of a month the boy who had made his own jackknife from the ore -which he had dug and smelted, reading as much as would be necessary -for this or the boy who had attended the lectures on metallurgy -at the Institute in the meanwhile, and had received a Rodgers' -penknife from his father? Which would be most likely to cut his -fingers?... To my astonishment I was informed on leaving college -that I had studied navigation why, if I had taken one turn down -the harbor I should have known more about it. Even the poor student -studies and is taught only political economy, while that economy of -living which is synonymous with philosophy is not even sincerely -professed in our colleges. The consequence is, that while he is -reading Adam Smith, Ricardo, and Say, he runs his father in debt -irretrievably. -As with our colleges, so with a hundred "modern improvements" -there is an illusion about them there is not always a positive -advance. The devil goes on exacting compound interest to the last -for his early share and numerous succeeding investments in them. -Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our -attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an -unimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive -at as railroads lead to Boston or New York. We are in great haste -to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas but Maine and -Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate. Either is -in such a predicament as the man who was earnest to be introduced to -a distinguished deaf woman, but when he was presented, and one end -of her ear trumpet was put into his hand, had nothing to say. As if -the main object were to talk fast and not to talk sensibly. We are -eager to tunnel under the Atlantic and bring the Old World some -weeks nearer to the New but perchance the first news that will leak -through into the broad, flapping American ear will be that the -Princess Adelaide has the whooping cough. After all, the man whose -horse trots a mile in a minute does not carry the most important -messages he is not an evangelist, nor does he come round eating -locusts and wild honey. I doubt if Flying Childers ever carried a -peck of corn to mill. -One says to me, "I wonder that you do not lay up money you love -to travel you might take the cars and go to Fitchburg today and see -the country." But I am wiser than that. I have learned that the -swiftest traveller is he that goes afoot. I say to my friend, -Suppose we try who will get there first. The distance is thirty -miles the fare ninety cents. That is almost a day's wages. I -remember when wages were sixty cents a day for laborers on this very -road. Well, I start now on foot, and get there before night I have -travelled at that rate by the week together. You will in the -meanwhile have earned your fare, and arrive there some time -tomorrow, or possibly this evening, if you are lucky enough to get a -job in season. Instead of going to Fitchburg, you will be working -here the greater part of the day. And so, if the railroad reached -round the world, I think that I should keep ahead of you and as for -seeing the country and getting experience of that kind, I should -have to cut your acquaintance altogether. -Such is the universal law, which no man can ever outwit, and -with regard to the railroad even we may say it is as broad as it is -long. To make a railroad round the world available to all mankind -is equivalent to grading the whole surface of the planet. Men have -an indistinct notion that if they keep up this activity of joint -stocks and spades long enough all will at length ride somewhere, in -next to no time, and for nothing but though a crowd rushes to the -depot, and the conductor shouts "All aboard" when the smoke is -blown away and the vapor condensed, it will be perceived that a few -are riding, but the rest are run over and it will be called, and -will be, "A melancholy accident." No doubt they can ride at last -who shall have earned their fare, that is, if they survive so long, -but they will probably have lost their elasticity and desire to -travel by that time. This spending of the best part of one's life -earning money in order to enjoy a questionable liberty during the -least valuable part of it reminds me of the Englishman who went to -India to make a fortune first, in order that he might return to -England and live the life of a poet. He should have gone up garret -at once. "What" exclaim a million Irishmen starting up from all -the shanties in the land, "is not this railroad which we have built -a good thing?" Yes, I answer, comparatively good, that is, you -might have done worse but I wish, as you are brothers of mine, that -you could have spent your time better than digging in this dirt. -Before I finished my house, wishing to earn ten or twelve -dollars by some honest and agreeable method, in order to meet my -unusual expenses, I planted about two acres and a half of light and -sandy soil near it chiefly with beans, but also a small part with -potatoes, corn, peas, and turnips. The whole lot contains eleven -acres, mostly growing up to pines and hickories, and was sold the -preceding season for eight dollars and eight cents an acre. One -farmer said that it was "good for nothing but to raise cheeping -squirrels on." I put no manure whatever on this land, not being the -owner, but merely a squatter, and not expecting to cultivate so much -again, and I did not quite hoe it all once. I got out several cords -of stumps in plowing, which supplied me with fuel for a long time, -and left small circles of virgin mould, easily distinguishable -through the summer by the greater luxuriance of the beans there. -The dead and for the most part unmerchantable wood behind my house, -and the driftwood from the pond, have supplied the remainder of my -fuel. I was obliged to hire a team and a man for the plowing, -though I held the plow myself. My farm outgoes for the first season -were, for implements, seed, work, etc., .. The seed corn was -given me. This never costs anything to speak of, unless you plant -more than enough. I got twelve bushels of beans, and eighteen -bushels of potatoes, beside some peas and sweet corn. The yellow -corn and turnips were too late to come to anything. My whole income -from the farm was -Deducting the outgoes ............ . -There are left .................. . -beside produce consumed and on hand at the time this estimate was -made of the value of . the amount on hand much more than -balancing a little grass which I did not raise. All things -considered, that is, considering the importance of a man's soul and -of today, notwithstanding the short time occupied by my experiment, -nay, partly even because of its transient character, I believe that -that was doing better than any farmer in Concord did that year. -The next year I did better still, for I spaded up all the land -which I required, about a third of an acre, and I learned from the -experience of both years, not being in the least awed by many -celebrated works on husbandry, Arthur Young among the rest, that if -one would live simply and eat only the crop which he raised, and -raise no more than he ate, and not exchange it for an insufficient -quantity of more luxurious and expensive things, he would need to -cultivate only a few rods of ground, and that it would be cheaper to -spade up that than to use oxen to plow it, and to select a fresh -spot from time to time than to manure the old, and he could do all -his necessary farm work as it were with his left hand at odd hours -in the summer and thus he would not be tied to an ox, or horse, or -cow, or pig, as at present. I desire to speak impartially on this -point, and as one not interested in the success or failure of the -present economical and social arrangements. I was more independent -than any farmer in Concord, for I was not anchored to a house or -farm, but could follow the bent of my genius, which is a very -crooked one, every moment. Beside being better off than they -already, if my house had been burned or my crops had failed, I -should have been nearly as well off as before. -I am wont to think that men are not so much the keepers of herds -as herds are the keepers of men, the former are so much the freer. -Men and oxen exchange work but if we consider necessary work only, -the oxen will be seen to have greatly the advantage, their farm is -so much the larger. Man does some of his part of the exchange work -in his six weeks of haying, and it is no boy's play. Certainly no -nation that lived simply in all respects, that is, no nation of -philosophers, would commit so great a blunder as to use the labor of -animals. True, there never was and is not likely soon to be a -nation of philosophers, nor am I certain it is desirable that there -should be. However, I should never have broken a horse or bull and -taken him to board for any work he might do for me, for fear I -should become a horseman or a herdsman merely and if society seems -to be the gainer by so doing, are we certain that what is one man's -gain is not another's loss, and that the stableboy has equal cause -with his master to be satisfied? Granted that some public works -would not have been constructed without this aid, and let man share -the glory of such with the ox and horse does it follow that he -could not have accomplished works yet more worthy of himself in that -case? When men begin to do, not merely unnecessary or artistic, but -luxurious and idle work, with their assistance, it is inevitable -that a few do all the exchange work with the oxen, or, in other -words, become the slaves of the strongest. Man thus not only works -for the animal within him, but, for a symbol of this, he works for -the animal without him. Though we have many substantial houses of -brick or stone, the prosperity of the farmer is still measured by -the degree to which the barn overshadows the house. This town is -said to have the largest houses for oxen, cows, and horses -hereabouts, and it is not behindhand in its public buildings but -there are very few halls for free worship or free speech in this -county. It should not be by their architecture, but why not even by -their power of abstract thought, that nations should seek to -commemorate themselves? How much more admirable the BhagvatGeeta -than all the ruins of the East Towers and temples are the luxury -of princes. A simple and independent mind does not toil at the -bidding of any prince. Genius is not a retainer to any emperor, nor -is its material silver, or gold, or marble, except to a trifling -extent. To what end, pray, is so much stone hammered? In Arcadia, -when I was there, I did not see any hammering stone. Nations are -possessed with an insane ambition to perpetuate the memory of -themselves by the amount of hammered stone they leave. What if -equal pains were taken to smooth and polish their manners? One -piece of good sense would be more memorable than a monument as high -as the moon. I love better to see stones in place. The grandeur of -Thebes was a vulgar grandeur. More sensible is a rod of stone wall -that bounds an honest man's field than a hundredgated Thebes that -has wandered farther from the true end of life. The religion and -civilization which are barbaric and heathenish build splendid -temples but what you might call Christianity does not. Most of the -stone a nation hammers goes toward its tomb only. It buries itself -alive. As for the Pyramids, there is nothing to wonder at in them -so much as the fact that so many men could be found degraded enough -to spend their lives constructing a tomb for some ambitious booby, -whom it would have been wiser and manlier to have drowned in the -Nile, and then given his body to the dogs. I might possibly invent -some excuse for them and him, but I have no time for it. As for the -religion and love of art of the builders, it is much the same all -the world over, whether the building be an Egyptian temple or the -United States Bank. It costs more than it comes to. The mainspring -is vanity, assisted by the love of garlic and bread and butter. Mr. -Balcom, a promising young architect, designs it on the back of his -Vitruvius, with hard pencil and ruler, and the job is let out to -Dobson Sons, stonecutters. When the thirty centuries begin to -look down on it, mankind begin to look up at it. As for your high -towers and monuments, there was a crazy fellow once in this town who -undertook to dig through to China, and he got so far that, as he -said, he heard the Chinese pots and kettles rattle but I think that -I shall not go out of my way to admire the hole which he made. Many -are concerned about the monuments of the West and the East to -know who built them. For my part, I should like to know who in -those days did not build them who were above such trifling. But -to proceed with my statistics. -By surveying, carpentry, and daylabor of various other kinds in -the village in the meanwhile, for I have as many trades as fingers, -I had earned .. The expense of food for eight months, namely, -from July th to March st, the time when these estimates were made, -though I lived there more than two years not counting potatoes, a -little green corn, and some peas, which I had raised, nor -considering the value of what was on hand at the last date was -Rice .................... . / -Molasses ................. . Cheapest form of the -saccharine. -Rye meal ................. . / -Indian meal .............. . / Cheaper than rye. -Pork ..................... . -All experiments which failed -Flour .................... . Costs more than Indian meal, -both money and trouble. -Sugar .................... . -Lard ..................... . -Apples ................... . -Dried apple .............. . -Sweet potatoes ........... . -One pumpkin .............. . -One watermelon ........... . -Salt ..................... . -Yes, I did eat ., all told but I should not thus unblushingly -publish my guilt, if I did not know that most of my readers were -equally guilty with myself, and that their deeds would look no -better in print. The next year I sometimes caught a mess of fish -for my dinner, and once I went so far as to slaughter a woodchuck -which ravaged my beanfield effect his transmigration, as a -Tartar would say and devour him, partly for experiment's sake -but though it afforded me a momentary enjoyment, notwithstanding a -musky flavor, I saw that the longest use would not make that a good -practice, however it might seem to have your woodchucks ready -dressed by the village butcher. -Clothing and some incidental expenses within the same dates, -though little can be inferred from this item, amounted to -Oil and some household utensils ........ . -So that all the pecuniary outgoes, excepting for washing and -mending, which for the most part were done out of the house, and -their bills have not yet been received and these are all and more -than all the ways by which money necessarily goes out in this part -of the world were -House ................................. . -Farm one year ........................... . -Food eight months ....................... . -Clothing, etc., eight months ............ ./ -Oil, etc., eight months ................. . -In all ............................ ./ -I address myself now to those of my readers who have a living to -get. And to meet this I have for farm produce sold -Earned by daylabor .................... . -In all ............................ ., -which subtracted from the sum of the outgoes leaves a balance of -. / on the one side this being very nearly the means with -which I started, and the measure of expenses to be incurred and -on the other, beside the leisure and independence and health thus -secured, a comfortable house for me as long as I choose to occupy -it. -These statistics, however accidental and therefore uninstructive -they may appear, as they have a certain completeness, have a certain -value also. Nothing was given me of which I have not rendered some -account. It appears from the above estimate, that my food alone -cost me in money about twentyseven cents a week. It was, for -nearly two years after this, rye and Indian meal without yeast, -potatoes, rice, a very little salt pork, molasses, and salt and my -drink, water. It was fit that I should live on rice, mainly, who -love so well the philosophy of India. To meet the objections of -some inveterate cavillers, I may as well state, that if I dined out -occasionally, as I always had done, and I trust shall have -opportunities to do again, it was frequently to the detriment of my -domestic arrangements. But the dining out, being, as I have stated, -a constant element, does not in the least affect a comparative -statement like this. -I learned from my two years' experience that it would cost -incredibly little trouble to obtain one's necessary food, even in -this latitude that a man may use as simple a diet as the animals, -and yet retain health and strength. I have made a satisfactory -dinner, satisfactory on several accounts, simply off a dish of -purslane Portulaca oleracea which I gathered in my cornfield, -boiled and salted. I give the Latin on account of the savoriness of -the trivial name. And pray what more can a reasonable man desire, -in peaceful times, in ordinary noons, than a sufficient number of -ears of green sweet corn boiled, with the addition of salt? Even -the little variety which I used was a yielding to the demands of -appetite, and not of health. Yet men have come to such a pass that -they frequently starve, not for want of necessaries, but for want of -luxuries and I know a good woman who thinks that her son lost his -life because he took to drinking water only. -The reader will perceive that I am treating the subject rather -from an economic than a dietetic point of view, and he will not -venture to put my abstemiousness to the test unless he has a -wellstocked larder. -Bread I at first made of pure Indian meal and salt, genuine -hoecakes, which I baked before my fire out of doors on a shingle or -the end of a stick of timber sawed off in building my house but it -was wont to get smoked and to have a piny flavor, I tried flour -also but have at last found a mixture of rye and Indian meal most -convenient and agreeable. In cold weather it was no little -amusement to bake several small loaves of this in succession, -tending and turning them as carefully as an Egyptian his hatching -eggs. They were a real cereal fruit which I ripened, and they had -to my senses a fragrance like that of other noble fruits, which I -kept in as long as possible by wrapping them in cloths. I made a -study of the ancient and indispensable art of breadmaking, -consulting such authorities as offered, going back to the primitive -days and first invention of the unleavened kind, when from the -wildness of nuts and meats men first reached the mildness and -refinement of this diet, and travelling gradually down in my studies -through that accidental souring of the dough which, it is supposed, -taught the leavening process, and through the various fermentations -thereafter, till I came to "good, sweet, wholesome bread," the staff -of life. Leaven, which some deem the soul of bread, the spiritus -which fills its cellular tissue, which is religiously preserved like -the vestal fire some precious bottleful, I suppose, first brought -over in the Mayflower, did the business for America, and its -influence is still rising, swelling, spreading, in cerealian billows -over the land this seed I regularly and faithfully procured from -the village, till at length one morning I forgot the rules, and -scalded my yeast by which accident I discovered that even this was -not indispensable for my discoveries were not by the synthetic -but analytic process and I have gladly omitted it since, though -most housewives earnestly assured me that safe and wholesome bread -without yeast might not be, and elderly people prophesied a speedy -decay of the vital forces. Yet I find it not to be an essential -ingredient, and after going without it for a year am still in the -land of the living and I am glad to escape the trivialness of -carrying a bottleful in my pocket, which would sometimes pop and -discharge its contents to my discomfiture. It is simpler and more -respectable to omit it. Man is an animal who more than any other -can adapt himself to all climates and circumstances. Neither did I -put any salsoda, or other acid or alkali, into my bread. It would -seem that I made it according to the recipe which Marcus Porcius -Cato gave about two centuries before Christ. "Panem depsticium sic -facito. Manus mortariumque bene lavato. Farinam in mortarium -indito, aquae paulatim addito, subigitoque pulchre. Ubi bene -subegeris, defingito, coquitoque sub testu." Which I take to mean, -"Make kneaded bread thus. Wash your hands and trough well. Put -the meal into the trough, add water gradually, and knead it -thoroughly. When you have kneaded it well, mould it, and bake it -under a cover," that is, in a baking kettle. Not a word about -leaven. But I did not always use this staff of life. At one time, -owing to the emptiness of my purse, I saw none of it for more than a -month. -Every New Englander might easily raise all his own breadstuffs -in this land of rye and Indian corn, and not depend on distant and -fluctuating markets for them. Yet so far are we from simplicity and -independence that, in Concord, fresh and sweet meal is rarely sold -in the shops, and hominy and corn in a still coarser form are hardly -used by any. For the most part the farmer gives to his cattle and -hogs the grain of his own producing, and buys flour, which is at -least no more wholesome, at a greater cost, at the store. I saw -that I could easily raise my bushel or two of rye and Indian corn, -for the former will grow on the poorest land, and the latter does -not require the best, and grind them in a handmill, and so do -without rice and pork and if I must have some concentrated sweet, I -found by experiment that I could make a very good molasses either of -pumpkins or beets, and I knew that I needed only to set out a few -maples to obtain it more easily still, and while these were growing -I could use various substitutes beside those which I have named. -"For," as the Forefathers sang, -"we can make liquor to sweeten our lips -Of pumpkins and parsnips and walnuttree chips." -Finally, as for salt, that grossest of groceries, to obtain this -might be a fit occasion for a visit to the seashore, or, if I did -without it altogether, I should probably drink the less water. I do -not learn that the Indians ever troubled themselves to go after it. -Thus I could avoid all trade and barter, so far as my food was -concerned, and having a shelter already, it would only remain to get -clothing and fuel. The pantaloons which I now wear were woven in a -farmer's family thank Heaven there is so much virtue still in -man for I think the fall from the farmer to the operative as great -and memorable as that from the man to the farmer and in a new -country, fuel is an encumbrance. As for a habitat, if I were not -permitted still to squat, I might purchase one acre at the same -price for which the land I cultivated was sold namely, eight -dollars and eight cents. But as it was, I considered that I -enhanced the value of the land by squatting on it. -There is a certain class of unbelievers who sometimes ask me -such questions as, if I think that I can live on vegetable food -alone and to strike at the root of the matter at once for the -root is faith I am accustomed to answer such, that I can live on -board nails. If they cannot understand that, they cannot understand -much that I have to say. For my part, I am glad to bear of -experiments of this kind being tried as that a young man tried for -a fortnight to live on hard, raw corn on the ear, using his teeth -for all mortar. The squirrel tribe tried the same and succeeded. -The human race is interested in these experiments, though a few old -women who are incapacitated for them, or who own their thirds in -mills, may be alarmed. -My furniture, part of which I made myself and the rest cost -me nothing of which I have not rendered an account consisted of a -bed, a table, a desk, three chairs, a lookingglass three inches in -diameter, a pair of tongs and andirons, a kettle, a skillet, and a -fryingpan, a dipper, a washbowl, two knives and forks, three -plates, one cup, one spoon, a jug for oil, a jug for molasses, and a -japanned lamp. None is so poor that he need sit on a pumpkin. That -is shiftlessness. There is a plenty of such chairs as I like best -in the village garrets to be had for taking them away. Furniture -Thank God, I can sit and I can stand without the aid of a furniture -warehouse. What man but a philosopher would not be ashamed to see -his furniture packed in a cart and going up country exposed to the -light of heaven and the eyes of men, a beggarly account of empty -boxes? That is Spaulding's furniture. I could never tell from -inspecting such a load whether it belonged to a socalled rich man -or a poor one the owner always seemed povertystricken. Indeed, -the more you have of such things the poorer you are. Each load -looks as if it contained the contents of a dozen shanties and if -one shanty is poor, this is a dozen times as poor. Pray, for what -do we move ever but to get rid of our furniture, our exuvioe at -last to go from this world to another newly furnished, and leave -this to be burned? It is the same as if all these traps were -buckled to a man's belt, and he could not move over the rough -country where our lines are cast without dragging them dragging -his trap. He was a lucky fox that left his tail in the trap. The -muskrat will gnaw his third leg off to be free. No wonder man has -lost his elasticity. How often he is at a dead set "Sir, if I may -be so bold, what do you mean by a dead set?" If you are a seer, -whenever you meet a man you will see all that he owns, ay, and much -that he pretends to disown, behind him, even to his kitchen -furniture and all the trumpery which he saves and will not burn, and -he will appear to be harnessed to it and making what headway he can. -I think that the man is at a dead set who has got through a -knothole or gateway where his sledge load of furniture cannot -follow him. I cannot but feel compassion when I hear some trig, -compactlooking man, seemingly free, all girded and ready, speak of -his "furniture," as whether it is insured or not. "But what shall I -do with my furniture?" My gay butterfly is entangled in a -spider's web then. Even those who seem for a long while not to have -any, if you inquire more narrowly you will find have some stored in -somebody's barn. I look upon England today as an old gentleman who -is travelling with a great deal of baggage, trumpery which has -accumulated from long housekeeping, which he has not the courage to -burn great trunk, little trunk, bandbox, and bundle. Throw away -the first three at least. It would surpass the powers of a well man -nowadays to take up his bed and walk, and I should certainly advise -a sick one to lay down his bed and run. When I have met an -immigrant tottering under a bundle which contained his all -looking like an enormous wen which had grown out of the nape of his -neck I have pitied him, not because that was his all, but because -he had all that to carry. If I have got to drag my trap, I will -take care that it be a light one and do not nip me in a vital part. -But perchance it would be wisest never to put one's paw into it. -I would observe, by the way, that it costs me nothing for -curtains, for I have no gazers to shut out but the sun and moon, and -I am willing that they should look in. The moon will not sour milk -nor taint meat of mine, nor will the sun injure my furniture or fade -my carpet and if he is sometimes too warm a friend, I find it still -better economy to retreat behind some curtain which nature has -provided, than to add a single item to the details of housekeeping. -A lady once offered me a mat, but as I had no room to spare within -the house, nor time to spare within or without to shake it, I -declined it, preferring to wipe my feet on the sod before my door. -It is best to avoid the beginnings of evil. -Not long since I was present at the auction of a deacon's -effects, for his life had not been ineffectual -"The evil that men do lives after them." -As usual, a great proportion was trumpery which had begun to -accumulate in his father's day. Among the rest was a dried -tapeworm. And now, after lying half a century in his garret and -other dust holes, these things were not burned instead of a -bonfire, or purifying destruction of them, there was an auction, or -increasing of them. The neighbors eagerly collected to view them, -bought them all, and carefully transported them to their garrets and -dust holes, to lie there till their estates are settled, when they -will start again. When a man dies he kicks the dust. -The customs of some savage nations might, perchance, be -profitably imitated by us, for they at least go through the -semblance of casting their slough annually they have the idea of -the thing, whether they have the reality or not. Would it not be -well if we were to celebrate such a "busk," or "feast of first -fruits," as Bartram describes to have been the custom of the -Mucclasse Indians? "When a town celebrates the busk," says he, -"having previously provided themselves with new clothes, new pots, -pans, and other household utensils and furniture, they collect all -their worn out clothes and other despicable things, sweep and -cleanse their houses, squares, and the whole town of their filth, -which with all the remaining grain and other old provisions they -cast together into one common heap, and consume it with fire. After -having taken medicine, and fasted for three days, all the fire in -the town is extinguished. During this fast they abstain from the -gratification of every appetite and passion whatever. A general -amnesty is proclaimed all malefactors may return to their town." -"On the fourth morning, the high priest, by rubbing dry wood -together, produces new fire in the public square, from whence every -habitation in the town is supplied with the new and pure flame." -They then feast on the new corn and fruits, and dance and sing -for three days, "and the four following days they receive visits and -rejoice with their friends from neighboring towns who have in like -manner purified and prepared themselves." -The Mexicans also practised a similar purification at the end of -every fiftytwo years, in the belief that it was time for the world -to come to an end. -I have scarcely heard of a truer sacrament, that is, as the -dictionary defines it, "outward and visible sign of an inward and -spiritual grace," than this, and I have no doubt that they were -originally inspired directly from Heaven to do thus, though they -have no Biblical record of the revelation. -For more than five years I maintained myself thus solely by the -labor of my hands, and I found that, by working about six weeks in a -year, I could meet all the expenses of living. The whole of my -winters, as well as most of my summers, I had free and clear for -study. I have thoroughly tried schoolkeeping, and found that my -expenses were in proportion, or rather out of proportion, to my -income, for I was obliged to dress and train, not to say think and -believe, accordingly, and I lost my time into the bargain. As I did -not teach for the good of my fellowmen, but simply for a -livelihood, this was a failure. I have tried trade but I found that -it would take ten years to get under way in that, and that then I -should probably be on my way to the devil. I was actually afraid -that I might by that time be doing what is called a good business. -When formerly I was looking about to see what I could do for a -living, some sad experience in conforming to the wishes of friends -being fresh in my mind to tax my ingenuity, I thought often and -seriously of picking huckleberries that surely I could do, and its -small profits might suffice for my greatest skill has been to -want but little so little capital it required, so little -distraction from my wonted moods, I foolishly thought. While my -acquaintances went unhesitatingly into trade or the professions, I -contemplated this occupation as most like theirs ranging the hills -all summer to pick the berries which came in my way, and thereafter -carelessly dispose of them so, to keep the flocks of Admetus. I -also dreamed that I might gather the wild herbs, or carry evergreens -to such villagers as loved to be reminded of the woods, even to the -city, by haycart loads. But I have since learned that trade curses -everything it handles and though you trade in messages from heaven, -the whole curse of trade attaches to the business. -As I preferred some things to others, and especially valued my -freedom, as I could fare hard and yet succeed well, I did not wish -to spend my time in earning rich carpets or other fine furniture, or -delicate cookery, or a house in the Grecian or the Gothic style just -yet. If there are any to whom it is no interruption to acquire -these things, and who know how to use them when acquired, I -relinquish to them the pursuit. Some are "industrious," and appear -to love labor for its own sake, or perhaps because it keeps them out -of worse mischief to such I have at present nothing to say. Those -who would not know what to do with more leisure than they now enjoy, -I might advise to work twice as hard as they do work till they -pay for themselves, and get their free papers. For myself I found -that the occupation of a daylaborer was the most independent of -any, especially as it required only thirty or forty days in a year -to support one. The laborer's day ends with the going down of the -sun, and he is then free to devote himself to his chosen pursuit, -independent of his labor but his employer, who speculates from -month to month, has no respite from one end of the year to the -other. -In short, I am convinced, both by faith and experience, that to -maintain one's self on this earth is not a hardship but a pastime, -if we will live simply and wisely as the pursuits of the simpler -nations are still the sports of the more artificial. It is not -necessary that a man should earn his living by the sweat of his -brow, unless he sweats easier than I do. -One young man of my acquaintance, who has inherited some acres, -told me that he thought he should live as I did, if he had the -means. I would not have any one adopt my mode of living on any -account for, beside that before he has fairly learned it I may have -found out another for myself, I desire that there may be as many -different persons in the world as possible but I would have each -one be very careful to find out and pursue his own way, and not his -father's or his mother's or his neighbor's instead. The youth may -build or plant or sail, only let him not be hindered from doing that -which he tells me he would like to do. It is by a mathematical -point only that we are wise, as the sailor or the fugitive slave -keeps the polestar in his eye but that is sufficient guidance for -all our life. We may not arrive at our port within a calculable -period, but we would preserve the true course. -Undoubtedly, in this case, what is true for one is truer still -for a thousand, as a large house is not proportionally more -expensive than a small one, since one roof may cover, one cellar -underlie, and one wall separate several apartments. But for my -part, I preferred the solitary dwelling. Moreover, it will commonly -be cheaper to build the whole yourself than to convince another of -the advantage of the common wall and when you have done this, the -common partition, to be much cheaper, must be a thin one, and that -other may prove a bad neighbor, and also not keep his side in -repair. The only cooperation which is commonly possible is -exceedingly partial and superficial and what little true -cooperation there is, is as if it were not, being a harmony -inaudible to men. If a man has faith, he will cooperate with equal -faith everywhere if he has not faith, he will continue to live like -the rest of the world, whatever company he is joined to. To -cooperate in the highest as well as the lowest sense, means to get -our living together. I heard it proposed lately that two young men -should travel together over the world, the one without money, -earning his means as he went, before the mast and behind the plow, -the other carrying a bill of exchange in his pocket. It was easy to -see that they could not long be companions or cooperate, since one -would not operate at all. They would part at the first interesting -crisis in their adventures. Above all, as I have implied, the man -who goes alone can start today but he who travels with another must -wait till that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they -get off. -But all this is very selfish, I have heard some of my townsmen -say. I confess that I have hitherto indulged very little in -philanthropic enterprises. I have made some sacrifices to a sense -of duty, and among others have sacrificed this pleasure also. There -are those who have used all their arts to persuade me to undertake -the support of some poor family in the town and if I had nothing to -do for the devil finds employment for the idle I might try my -hand at some such pastime as that. However, when I have thought to -indulge myself in this respect, and lay their Heaven under an -obligation by maintaining certain poor persons in all respects as -comfortably as I maintain myself, and have even ventured so far as -to make them the offer, they have one and all unhesitatingly -preferred to remain poor. While my townsmen and women are devoted -in so many ways to the good of their fellows, I trust that one at -least may be spared to other and less humane pursuits. You must -have a genius for charity as well as for anything else. As for -Doinggood, that is one of the professions which are full. -Moreover, I have tried it fairly, and, strange as it may seem, am -satisfied that it does not agree with my constitution. Probably I -should not consciously and deliberately forsake my particular -calling to do the good which society demands of me, to save the -universe from annihilation and I believe that a like but infinitely -greater steadfastness elsewhere is all that now preserves it. But I -would not stand between any man and his genius and to him who does -this work, which I decline, with his whole heart and soul and life, -I would say, Persevere, even if the world call it doing evil, as it -is most likely they will. -I am far from supposing that my case is a peculiar one no doubt -many of my readers would make a similar defence. At doing something -I will not engage that my neighbors shall pronounce it good I -do not hesitate to say that I should be a capital fellow to hire -but what that is, it is for my employer to find out. What good I -do, in the common sense of that word, must be aside from my main -path, and for the most part wholly unintended. Men say, -practically, Begin where you are and such as you are, without aiming -mainly to become of more worth, and with kindness aforethought go -about doing good. If I were to preach at all in this strain, I -should say rather, Set about being good. As if the sun should stop -when he had kindled his fires up to the splendor of a moon or a star -of the sixth magnitude, and go about like a Robin Goodfellow, -peeping in at every cottage window, inspiring lunatics, and tainting -meats, and making darkness visible, instead of steadily increasing -his genial heat and beneficence till he is of such brightness that -no mortal can look him in the face, and then, and in the meanwhile -too, going about the world in his own orbit, doing it good, or -rather, as a truer philosophy has discovered, the world going about -him getting good. When Phaeton, wishing to prove his heavenly birth -by his beneficence, had the sun's chariot but one day, and drove out -of the beaten track, he burned several blocks of houses in the lower -streets of heaven, and scorched the surface of the earth, and dried -up every spring, and made the great desert of Sahara, till at length -Jupiter hurled him headlong to the earth with a thunderbolt, and the -sun, through grief at his death, did not shine for a year. -There is no odor so bad as that which arises from goodness -tainted. It is human, it is divine, carrion. If I knew for a -certainty that a man was coming to my house with the conscious -design of doing me good, I should run for my life, as from that dry -and parching wind of the African deserts called the simoom, which -fills the mouth and nose and ears and eyes with dust till you are -suffocated, for fear that I should get some of his good done to me -some of its virus mingled with my blood. No in this case I -would rather suffer evil the natural way. A man is not a good man -to me because he will feed me if I should be starving, or warm me if -I should be freezing, or pull me out of a ditch if I should ever -fall into one. I can find you a Newfoundland dog that will do as -much. Philanthropy is not love for one's fellowman in the broadest -sense. Howard was no doubt an exceedingly kind and worthy man in -his way, and has his reward but, comparatively speaking, what are a -hundred Howards to us, if their philanthropy do not help us in our -best estate, when we are most worthy to be helped? I never heard of -a philanthropic meeting in which it was sincerely proposed to do any -good to me, or the like of me. -The Jesuits were quite balked by those Indians who, being burned -at the stake, suggested new modes of torture to their tormentors. -Being superior to physical suffering, it sometimes chanced that they -were superior to any consolation which the missionaries could offer -and the law to do as you would be done by fell with less -persuasiveness on the ears of those who, for their part, did not -care how they were done by, who loved their enemies after a new -fashion, and came very near freely forgiving them all they did. -Be sure that you give the poor the aid they most need, though it -be your example which leaves them far behind. If you give money, -spend yourself with it, and do not merely abandon it to them. We -make curious mistakes sometimes. Often the poor man is not so cold -and hungry as he is dirty and ragged and gross. It is partly his -taste, and not merely his misfortune. If you give him money, he -will perhaps buy more rags with it. I was wont to pity the clumsy -Irish laborers who cut ice on the pond, in such mean and ragged -clothes, while I shivered in my more tidy and somewhat more -fashionable garments, till, one bitter cold day, one who had slipped -into the water came to my house to warm him, and I saw him strip off -three pairs of pants and two pairs of stockings ere he got down to -the skin, though they were dirty and ragged enough, it is true, and -that he could afford to refuse the extra garments which I offered -him, he had so many intra ones. This ducking was the very thing he -needed. Then I began to pity myself, and I saw that it would be a -greater charity to bestow on me a flannel shirt than a whole -slopshop on him. There are a thousand hacking at the branches of -evil to one who is striking at the root, and it may be that he who -bestows the largest amount of time and money on the needy is doing -the most by his mode of life to produce that misery which he strives -in vain to relieve. It is the pious slavebreeder devoting the -proceeds of every tenth slave to buy a Sunday's liberty for the -rest. Some show their kindness to the poor by employing them in -their kitchens. Would they not be kinder if they employed -themselves there? You boast of spending a tenth part of your income -in charity maybe you should spend the nine tenths so, and done with -it. Society recovers only a tenth part of the property then. Is -this owing to the generosity of him in whose possession it is found, -or to the remissness of the officers of justice? -Philanthropy is almost the only virtue which is sufficiently -appreciated by mankind. Nay, it is greatly overrated and it is our -selfishness which overrates it. A robust poor man, one sunny day -here in Concord, praised a fellowtownsman to me, because, as he -said, he was kind to the poor meaning himself. The kind uncles and -aunts of the race are more esteemed than its true spiritual fathers -and mothers. I once heard a reverend lecturer on England, a man of -learning and intelligence, after enumerating her scientific, -literary, and political worthies, Shakespeare, Bacon, Cromwell, -Milton, Newton, and others, speak next of her Christian heroes, -whom, as if his profession required it of him, he elevated to a -place far above all the rest, as the greatest of the great. They -were Penn, Howard, and Mrs. Fry. Every one must feel the falsehood -and cant of this. The last were not England's best men and women -only, perhaps, her best philanthropists. -I would not subtract anything from the praise that is due to -philanthropy, but merely demand justice for all who by their lives -and works are a blessing to mankind. I do not value chiefly a man's -uprightness and benevolence, which are, as it were, his stem and -leaves. Those plants of whose greenness withered we make herb tea -for the sick serve but a humble use, and are most employed by -quacks. I want the flower and fruit of a man that some fragrance -be wafted over from him to me, and some ripeness flavor our -intercourse. His goodness must not be a partial and transitory act, -but a constant superfluity, which costs him nothing and of which he -is unconscious. This is a charity that hides a multitude of sins. -The philanthropist too often surrounds mankind with the remembrance -of his own castoff griefs as an atmosphere, and calls it sympathy. -We should impart our courage, and not our despair, our health and -ease, and not our disease, and take care that this does not spread -by contagion. From what southern plains comes up the voice of -wailing? Under what latitudes reside the heathen to whom we would -send light? Who is that intemperate and brutal man whom we would -redeem? If anything ail a man, so that he does not perform his -functions, if he have a pain in his bowels even for that is the -seat of sympathy he forthwith sets about reforming the world. -Being a microcosm himself, he discovers and it is a true -discovery, and he is the man to make it that the world has been -eating green apples to his eyes, in fact, the globe itself is a -great green apple, which there is danger awful to think of that the -children of men will nibble before it is ripe and straightway his -drastic philanthropy seeks out the Esquimau and the Patagonian, and -embraces the populous Indian and Chinese villages and thus, by a -few years of philanthropic activity, the powers in the meanwhile -using him for their own ends, no doubt, he cures himself of his -dyspepsia, the globe acquires a faint blush on one or both of its -cheeks, as if it were beginning to be ripe, and life loses its -crudity and is once more sweet and wholesome to live. I never -dreamed of any enormity greater than I have committed. I never -knew, and never shall know, a worse man than myself. -I believe that what so saddens the reformer is not his sympathy -with his fellows in distress, but, though he be the holiest son of -God, is his private ail. Let this be righted, let the spring come -to him, the morning rise over his couch, and he will forsake his -generous companions without apology. My excuse for not lecturing -against the use of tobacco is, that I never chewed it, that is a -penalty which reformed tobaccochewers have to pay though there are -things enough I have chewed which I could lecture against. If you -should ever be betrayed into any of these philanthropies, do not let -your left hand know what your right hand does, for it is not worth -knowing. Rescue the drowning and tie your shoestrings. Take your -time, and set about some free labor. -Our manners have been corrupted by communication with the -saints. Our hymnbooks resound with a melodious cursing of God and -enduring Him forever. One would say that even the prophets and -redeemers had rather consoled the fears than confirmed the hopes of -man. There is nowhere recorded a simple and irrepressible -satisfaction with the gift of life, any memorable praise of God. -All health and success does me good, however far off and withdrawn -it may appear all disease and failure helps to make me sad and does -me evil, however much sympathy it may have with me or I with it. -If, then, we would indeed restore mankind by truly Indian, botanic, -magnetic, or natural means, let us first be as simple and well as -Nature ourselves, dispel the clouds which hang over our own brows, -and take up a little life into our pores. Do not stay to be an -overseer of the poor, but endeavor to become one of the worthies of -the world. -I read in the Gulistan, or Flower Garden, of Sheik Sadi of -Shiraz, that "they asked a wise man, saying Of the many celebrated -trees which the Most High God has created lofty and umbrageous, they -call none azad, or free, excepting the cypress, which bears no -fruit what mystery is there in this? He replied, Each has its -appropriate produce, and appointed season, during the continuance of -which it is fresh and blooming, and during their absence dry and -withered to neither of which states is the cypress exposed, being -always flourishing and of this nature are the azads, or religious -independents. Fix not thy heart on that which is transitory for -the Dijlah, or Tigris, will continue to flow through Bagdad after -the race of caliphs is extinct if thy hand has plenty, be liberal -as the date tree but if it affords nothing to give away, be an -azad, or free man, like the cypress." -COMPLEMENTAL VERSES -The Pretensions of Poverty -Thou dost presume too much, poor needy wretch, -To claim a station in the firmament -Because thy humble cottage, or thy tub, -Nurses some lazy or pedantic virtue -In the cheap sunshine or by shady springs, -With roots and potherbs where thy right hand, -Tearing those humane passions from the mind, -Upon whose stocks fair blooming virtues flourish, -Degradeth nature, and benumbeth sense, -And, Gorgonlike, turns active men to stone. -We not require the dull society -Of your necessitated temperance, -Or that unnatural stupidity -That knows nor joy nor sorrow nor your forc'd -Falsely exalted passive fortitude -Above the active. This low abject brood, -That fix their seats in mediocrity, -Become your servile minds but we advance -Such virtues only as admit excess, -Brave, bounteous acts, regal magnificence, -Allseeing prudence, magnanimity -That knows no bound, and that heroic virtue -For which antiquity hath left no name, -But patterns only, such as Hercules, -Achilles, Theseus. Back to thy loath'd cell -And when thou seest the new enlightened sphere, -Study to know but what those worthies were. -T. CAREW -Where I Lived, and What I Lived For -At a certain season of our life we are accustomed to consider -every spot as the possible site of a house. I have thus surveyed -the country on every side within a dozen miles of where I live. In -imagination I have bought all the farms in succession, for all were -to be bought, and I knew their price. I walked over each farmer's -premises, tasted his wild apples, discoursed on husbandry with him, -took his farm at his price, at any price, mortgaging it to him in my -mind even put a higher price on it took everything but a deed of -it took his word for his deed, for I dearly love to talk -cultivated it, and him too to some extent, I trust, and withdrew -when I had enjoyed it long enough, leaving him to carry it on. This -experience entitled me to be regarded as a sort of realestate -broker by my friends. Wherever I sat, there I might live, and the -landscape radiated from me accordingly. What is a house but a -sedes, a seat? better if a country seat. I discovered many a -site for a house not likely to be soon improved, which some might -have thought too far from the village, but to my eyes the village -was too far from it. Well, there I might live, I said and there I -did live, for an hour, a summer and a winter life saw how I could -let the years run off, buffet the winter through, and see the spring -come in. The future inhabitants of this region, wherever they may -place their houses, may be sure that they have been anticipated. An -afternoon sufficed to lay out the land into orchard, woodlot, and -pasture, and to decide what fine oaks or pines should be left to -stand before the door, and whence each blasted tree could be seen to -the best advantage and then I let it lie, fallow, perchance, for a -man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can -afford to let alone. -My imagination carried me so far that I even had the refusal of -several farms the refusal was all I wanted but I never got my -fingers burned by actual possession. The nearest that I came to -actual possession was when I bought the Hollowell place, and had -begun to sort my seeds, and collected materials with which to make a -wheelbarrow to carry it on or off with but before the owner gave me -a deed of it, his wife every man has such a wife changed her -mind and wished to keep it, and he offered me ten dollars to release -him. Now, to speak the truth, I had but ten cents in the world, and -it surpassed my arithmetic to tell, if I was that man who had ten -cents, or who had a farm, or ten dollars, or all together. However, -I let him keep the ten dollars and the farm too, for I had carried -it far enough or rather, to be generous, I sold him the farm for -just what I gave for it, and, as he was not a rich man, made him a -present of ten dollars, and still had my ten cents, and seeds, and -materials for a wheelbarrow left. I found thus that I had been a -rich man without any damage to my poverty. But I retained the -landscape, and I have since annually carried off what it yielded -without a wheelbarrow. With respect to landscapes, -"I am monarch of all I survey, -My right there is none to dispute." -I have frequently seen a poet withdraw, having enjoyed the most -valuable part of a farm, while the crusty farmer supposed that he -had got a few wild apples only. Why, the owner does not know it for -many years when a poet has put his farm in rhyme, the most admirable -kind of invisible fence, has fairly impounded it, milked it, skimmed -it, and got all the cream, and left the farmer only the skimmed -milk. -The real attractions of the Hollowell farm, to me, were its -complete retirement, being, about two miles from the village, half a -mile from the nearest neighbor, and separated from the highway by a -broad field its bounding on the river, which the owner said -protected it by its fogs from frosts in the spring, though that was -nothing to me the gray color and ruinous state of the house and -barn, and the dilapidated fences, which put such an interval between -me and the last occupant the hollow and lichencovered apple trees, -nawed by rabbits, showing what kind of neighbors I should have but -above all, the recollection I had of it from my earliest voyages up -the river, when the house was concealed behind a dense grove of red -maples, through which I heard the housedog bark. I was in haste to -buy it, before the proprietor finished getting out some rocks, -cutting down the hollow apple trees, and grubbing up some young -birches which had sprung up in the pasture, or, in short, had made -any more of his improvements. To enjoy these advantages I was ready -to carry it on like Atlas, to take the world on my shoulders I -never heard what compensation he received for that and do all -those things which had no other motive or excuse but that I might -pay for it and be unmolested in my possession of it for I knew all -the while that it would yield the most abundant crop of the kind I -wanted, if I could only afford to let it alone. But it turned out -as I have said. -All that I could say, then, with respect to farming on a large -scale I have always cultivated a garden was, that I had had my -seeds ready. Many think that seeds improve with age. I have no -doubt that time discriminates between the good and the bad and when -at last I shall plant, I shall be less likely to be disappointed. -But I would say to my fellows, once for all, As long as possible -live free and uncommitted. It makes but little difference whether -you are committed to a farm or the county jail. -Old Cato, whose "De Re Rustica" is my "Cultivator," says and -the only translation I have seen makes sheer nonsense of the passage -"When you think of getting a farm turn it thus in your mind, not -to buy greedily nor spare your pains to look at it, and do not -think it enough to go round it once. The oftener you go there the -more it will please you, if it is good." I think I shall not buy -greedily, but go round and round it as long as I live, and be buried -in it first, that it may please me the more at last. -The present was my next experiment of this kind, which I purpose -to describe more at length, for convenience putting the experience -of two years into one. As I have said, I do not propose to write an -ode to dejection, but to brag as lustily as chanticleer in the -morning, standing on his roost, if only to wake my neighbors up. -When first I took up my abode in the woods, that is, began to -spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on -Independence Day, or the Fourth of July, , my house was not -finished for winter, but was merely a defence against the rain, -without plastering or chimney, the walls being of rough, -weatherstained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at -night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and -window casings gave it a clean and airy look, especially in the -morning, when its timbers were saturated with dew, so that I fancied -that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them. To my -imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this -auroral character, reminding me of a certain house on a mountain -which I had visited a year before. This was an airy and unplastered -cabin, fit to entertain a travelling god, and where a goddess might -trail her garments. The winds which passed over my dwelling were -such as sweep over the ridges of mountains, bearing the broken -strains, or celestial parts only, of terrestrial music. The morning -wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted but few -are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth -everywhere. -The only house I had been the owner of before, if I except a -boat, was a tent, which I used occasionally when making excursions -in the summer, and this is still rolled up in my garret but the -boat, after passing from hand to hand, has gone down the stream of -time. With this more substantial shelter about me, I had made some -progress toward settling in the world. This frame, so slightly -clad, was a sort of crystallization around me, and reacted on the -builder. It was suggestive somewhat as a picture in outlines. I -did not need to go outdoors to take the air, for the atmosphere -within had lost none of its freshness. It was not so much within -doors as behind a door where I sat, even in the rainiest weather. -The Harivansa says, "An abode without birds is like a meat without -seasoning." Such was not my abode, for I found myself suddenly -neighbor to the birds not by having imprisoned one, but having -caged myself near them. I was not only nearer to some of those -which commonly frequent the garden and the orchard, but to those -smaller and more thrilling songsters of the forest which never, or -rarely, serenade a villager the wood thrush, the veery, the -scarlet tanager, the field sparrow, the whippoorwill, and many -others. -I was seated by the shore of a small pond, about a mile and a -half south of the village of Concord and somewhat higher than it, in -the midst of an extensive wood between that town and Lincoln, and -about two miles south of that our only field known to fame, Concord -Battle Ground but I was so low in the woods that the opposite -shore, half a mile off, like the rest, covered with wood, was my -most distant horizon. For the first week, whenever I looked out on -the pond it impressed me like a tarn high up on the side of a -mountain, its bottom far above the surface of other lakes, and, as -the sun arose, I saw it throwing off its nightly clothing of mist, -and here and there, by degrees, its soft ripples or its smooth -reflecting surface was revealed, while the mists, like ghosts, were -stealthily withdrawing in every direction into the woods, as at the -breaking up of some nocturnal conventicle. The very dew seemed to -hang upon the trees later into the day than usual, as on the sides -of mountains. -This small lake was of most value as a neighbor in the intervals -of a gentle rainstorm in August, when, both air and water being -perfectly still, but the sky overcast, midafternoon had all the -serenity of evening, and the wood thrush sang around, and was heard -from shore to shore. A lake like this is never smoother than at -such a time and the clear portion of the air above it being, -shallow and darkened by clouds, the water, full of light and -reflections, becomes a lower heaven itself so much the more -important. From a hilltop near by, where the wood had been -recently cut off, there was a pleasing vista southward across the -pond, through a wide indentation in the hills which form the shore -there, where their opposite sides sloping toward each other -suggested a stream flowing out in that direction through a wooded -valley, but stream there was none. That way I looked between and -over the near green hills to some distant and higher ones in the -horizon, tinged with blue. Indeed, by standing on tiptoe I could -catch a glimpse of some of the peaks of the still bluer and more -distant mountain ranges in the northwest, those trueblue coins from -heaven's own mint, and also of some portion of the village. But in -other directions, even from this point, I could not see over or -beyond the woods which surrounded me. It is well to have some water -in your neighborhood, to give buoyancy to and float the earth. One -value even of the smallest well is, that when you look into it you -see that earth is not continent but insular. This is as important -as that it keeps butter cool. When I looked across the pond from -this peak toward the Sudbury meadows, which in time of flood I -distinguished elevated perhaps by a mirage in their seething valley, -like a coin in a basin, all the earth beyond the pond appeared like -a thin crust insulated and floated even by this small sheet of -interverting water, and I was reminded that this on which I dwelt -was but dry land. -Though the view from my door was still more contracted, I did -not feel crowded or confined in the least. There was pasture enough -for my imagination. The low shrub oak plateau to which the opposite -shore arose stretched away toward the prairies of the West and the -steppes of Tartary, affording ample room for all the roving families -of men. "There are none happy in the world but beings who enjoy -freely a vast horizon" said Damodara, when his herds required new -and larger pastures. -Both place and time were changed, and I dwelt nearer to those -parts of the universe and to those eras in history which had most -attracted me. Where I lived was as far off as many a region viewed -nightly by astronomers. We are wont to imagine rare and delectable -places in some remote and more celestial corner of the system, -behind the constellation of Cassiopeia's Chair, far from noise and -disturbance. I discovered that my house actually had its site in -such a withdrawn, but forever new and unprofaned, part of the -universe. If it were worth the while to settle in those parts near -to the Pleiades or the Hyades, to Aldebaran or Altair, then I was -really there, or at an equal remoteness from the life which I had -left behind, dwindled and twinkling with as fine a ray to my nearest -neighbor, and to be seen only in moonless nights by him. Such was -that part of creation where I had squatted -"There was a shepherd that did live, -And held his thoughts as high -As were the mounts whereon his flocks -Did hourly feed him by." -What should we think of the shepherd's life if his flocks always -wandered to higher pastures than his thoughts? -Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal -simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself. I have -been as sincere a worshipper of Aurora as the Greeks. I got up -early and bathed in the pond that was a religious exercise, and one -of the best things which I did. They say that characters were -engraven on the bathing tub of King Tchingthang to this effect -"Renew thyself completely each day do it again, and again, and -forever again." I can understand that. Morning brings back the -heroic ages. I was as much affected by the faint hum of a mosquito -making its invisible and unimaginable tour through my apartment at -earliest dawn, when I was sitting with door and windows open, as I -could be by any trumpet that ever sang of fame. It was Homer's -requiem itself an Iliad and Odyssey in the air, singing its own -wrath and wanderings. There was something cosmical about it a -standing advertisement, till forbidden, of the everlasting vigor and -fertility of the world. The morning, which is the most memorable -season of the day, is the awakening hour. Then there is least -somnolence in us and for an hour, at least, some part of us awakes -which slumbers all the rest of the day and night. Little is to be -expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not -awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some -servitor, are not awakened by our own newly acquired force and -aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial -music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance filling the air -to a higher life than we fell asleep from and thus the darkness -bear its fruit, and prove itself to be good, no less than the light. -That man who does not believe that each day contains an earlier, -more sacred, and auroral hour than he has yet profaned, has -despaired of life, and is pursuing a descending and darkening way. -After a partial cessation of his sensuous life, the soul of man, or -its organs rather, are reinvigorated each day, and his Genius tries -again what noble life it can make. All memorable events, I should -say, transpire in morning time and in a morning atmosphere. The -Vedas say, "All intelligences awake with the morning." Poetry and -art, and the fairest and most memorable of the actions of men, date -from such an hour. All poets and heroes, like Memnon, are the -children of Aurora, and emit their music at sunrise. To him whose -elastic and vigorous thought keeps pace with the sun, the day is a -perpetual morning. It matters not what the clocks say or the -attitudes and labors of men. Morning is when I am awake and there -is a dawn in me. Moral reform is the effort to throw off sleep. -Why is it that men give so poor an account of their day if they have -not been slumbering? They are not such poor calculators. If they -had not been overcome with drowsiness, they would have performed -something. The millions are awake enough for physical labor but -only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual -exertion, only one in a hundred millions to a poetic or divine life. -To be awake is to be alive. I have never yet met a man who was -quite awake. How could I have looked him in the face? -We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by -mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which -does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more -encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate -his life by a conscious endeavor. It is something to be able to -paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a -few objects beautiful but it is far more glorious to carve and -paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which -morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the -highest of arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its -details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and -critical hour. If we refused, or rather used up, such paltry -information as we get, the oracles would distinctly inform us how -this might be done. -I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to -front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn -what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I -had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is -so dear nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite -necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of -life, to live so sturdily and Spartanlike as to put to rout all -that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive -life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it -proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of -it, and publish its meanness to the world or if it were sublime, to -know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in -my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange -uncertainty about it, whether it is of the devil or of God, and have -somewhat hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to -"glorify God and enjoy him forever." -Still we live meanly, like ants though the fable tells us that -we were long ago changed into men like pygmies we fight with -cranes it is error upon error, and clout upon clout, and our best -virtue has for its occasion a superfluous and evitable wretchedness. -Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need -to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add -his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, -simplicity I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a -hundred or a thousand instead of a million count half a dozen, and -keep your accounts on your thumbnail. In the midst of this -chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and -quicksands and thousandandone items to be allowed for, that a man -has to live, if he would not founder and go to the bottom and not -make his port at all, by dead reckoning, and he must be a great -calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify, simplify. Instead of -three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one instead of a -hundred dishes, five and reduce other things in proportion. Our -life is like a German Confederacy, made up of petty states, with its -boundary forever fluctuating, so that even a German cannot tell you -how it is bounded at any moment. The nation itself, with all its -socalled internal improvements, which, by the way are all external -and superficial, is just such an unwieldy and overgrown -establishment, cluttered with furniture and tripped up by its own -traps, ruined by luxury and heedless expense, by want of calculation -and a worthy aim, as the million households in the land and the -only cure for it, as for them, is in a rigid economy, a stern and -more than Spartan simplicity of life and elevation of purpose. It -lives too fast. Men think that it is essential that the Nation have -commerce, and export ice, and talk through a telegraph, and ride -thirty miles an hour, without a doubt, whether they do or not but -whether we should live like baboons or like men, is a little -uncertain. If we do not get out sleepers, and forge rails, and -devote days and nights to the work, but go to tinkering upon our -lives to improve them, who will build railroads? And if railroads -are not built, how shall we get to heaven in season? But if we stay -at home and mind our business, who will want railroads? We do not -ride on the railroad it rides upon us. Did you ever think what -those sleepers are that underlie the railroad? Each one is a man, -an Irishman, or a Yankee man. The rails are laid on them, and they -are covered with sand, and the cars run smoothly over them. They -are sound sleepers, I assure you. And every few years a new lot is -laid down and run over so that, if some have the pleasure of riding -on a rail, others have the misfortune to be ridden upon. And when -they run over a man that is walking in his sleep, a supernumerary -sleeper in the wrong position, and wake him up, they suddenly stop -the cars, and make a hue and cry about it, as if this were an -exception. I am glad to know that it takes a gang of men for every -five miles to keep the sleepers down and level in their beds as it -is, for this is a sign that they may sometime get up again. -Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are -determined to be starved before we are hungry. Men say that a -stitch in time saves nine, and so they take a thousand stitches -today to save nine tomorrow. As for work, we haven't any of any -consequence. We have the Saint Vitus' dance, and cannot possibly -keep our heads still. If I should only give a few pulls at the -parish bellrope, as for a fire, that is, without setting the bell, -there is hardly a man on his farm in the outskirts of Concord, -notwithstanding that press of engagements which was his excuse so -many times this morning, nor a boy, nor a woman, I might almost say, -but would forsake all and follow that sound, not mainly to save -property from the flames, but, if we will confess the truth, much -more to see it burn, since burn it must, and we, be it known, did -not set it on fire or to see it put out, and have a hand in it, -if that is done as handsomely yes, even if it were the parish -church itself. Hardly a man takes a halfhour's nap after dinner, -but when he wakes he holds up his head and asks, "What's the news?" -as if the rest of mankind had stood his sentinels. Some give -directions to be waked every halfhour, doubtless for no other -purpose and then, to pay for it, they tell what they have dreamed. -After a night's sleep the news is as indispensable as the breakfast. -"Pray tell me anything new that has happened to a man anywhere on -this globe" and he reads it over his coffee and rolls, that a man -has had his eyes gouged out this morning on the Wachito River never -dreaming the while that he lives in the dark unfathomed mammoth cave -of this world, and has but the rudiment of an eye himself. -For my part, I could easily do without the postoffice. I think -that there are very few important communications made through it. -To speak critically, I never received more than one or two letters -in my life I wrote this some years ago that were worth the -postage. The pennypost is, commonly, an institution through which -you seriously offer a man that penny for his thoughts which is so -often safely offered in jest. And I am sure that I never read any -memorable news in a newspaper. If we read of one man robbed, or -murdered, or killed by accident, or one house burned, or one vessel -wrecked, or one steamboat blown up, or one cow run over on the -Western Railroad, or one mad dog killed, or one lot of grasshoppers -in the winter we never need read of another. One is enough. If -you are acquainted with the principle, what do you care for a myriad -instances and applications? To a philosopher all news, as it is -called, is gossip, and they who edit and read it are old women over -their tea. Yet not a few are greedy after this gossip. There was -such a rush, as I hear, the other day at one of the offices to learn -the foreign news by the last arrival, that several large squares of -plate glass belonging to the establishment were broken by the -pressure news which I seriously think a ready wit might write a -twelvemonth, or twelve years, beforehand with sufficient accuracy. -As for Spain, for instance, if you know how to throw in Don Carlos -and the Infanta, and Don Pedro and Seville and Granada, from time to -time in the right proportions they may have changed the names a -little since I saw the papers and serve up a bullfight when -other entertainments fail, it will be true to the letter, and give -us as good an idea of the exact state or ruin of things in Spain as -the most succinct and lucid reports under this head in the -newspapers and as for England, almost the last significant scrap of -news from that quarter was the revolution of and if you have -learned the history of her crops for an average year, you never need -attend to that thing again, unless your speculations are of a merely -pecuniary character. If one may judge who rarely looks into the -newspapers, nothing new does ever happen in foreign parts, a French -revolution not excepted. -What news how much more important to know what that is which -was never old "Kieouheyu great dignitary of the state of Wei -sent a man to Khoungtseu to know his news. Khoungtseu caused the -messenger to be seated near him, and questioned him in these terms -What is your master doing? The messenger answered with respect My -master desires to diminish the number of his faults, but he cannot -come to the end of them. The messenger being gone, the philosopher -remarked What a worthy messenger What a worthy messenger" The -preacher, instead of vexing the ears of drowsy farmers on their day -of rest at the end of the week for Sunday is the fit conclusion -of an illspent week, and not the fresh and brave beginning of a new -one with this one other draggletail of a sermon, should shout -with thundering voice, "Pause Avast Why so seeming fast, but -deadly slow?" -Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while -reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, -and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with -such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian -Nights' Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and -has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. -When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and -worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty -fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This -is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and -slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish -and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which -still is built on purely illusory foundations. Children, who play -life, discern its true law and relations more clearly than men, who -fail to live it worthily, but who think that they are wiser by -experience, that is, by failure. I have read in a Hindoo book, that -"there was a king's son, who, being expelled in infancy from his -native city, was brought up by a forester, and, growing up to -maturity in that state, imagined himself to belong to the barbarous -race with which he lived. One of his father's ministers having -discovered him, revealed to him what he was, and the misconception -of his character was removed, and he knew himself to be a prince. -So soul," continues the Hindoo philosopher, "from the circumstances -in which it is placed, mistakes its own character, until the truth -is revealed to it by some holy teacher, and then it knows itself to -be Brahme." I perceive that we inhabitants of New England live this -mean life that we do because our vision does not penetrate the -surface of things. We think that that is which appears to be. If a -man should walk through this town and see only the reality, where, -think you, would the "Milldam" go to? If he should give us an -account of the realities he beheld there, we should not recognize -the place in his description. Look at a meetinghouse, or a -courthouse, or a jail, or a shop, or a dwellinghouse, and say what -that thing really is before a true gaze, and they would all go to -pieces in your account of them. Men esteem truth remote, in the -outskirts of the system, behind the farthest star, before Adam and -after the last man. In eternity there is indeed something true and -sublime. But all these times and places and occasions are now and -here. God himself culminates in the present moment, and will never -be more divine in the lapse of all the ages. And we are enabled to -apprehend at all what is sublime and noble only by the perpetual -instilling and drenching of the reality that surrounds us. The -universe constantly and obediently answers to our conceptions -whether we travel fast or slow, the track is laid for us. Let us -spend our lives in conceiving then. The poet or the artist never -yet had so fair and noble a design but some of his posterity at -least could accomplish it. -Let us spend one day as deliberately as Nature, and not be -thrown off the track by every nutshell and mosquito's wing that -falls on the rails. Let us rise early and fast, or break fast, -gently and without perturbation let company come and let company -go, let the bells ring and the children cry determined to make a -day of it. Why should we knock under and go with the stream? Let -us not be upset and overwhelmed in that terrible rapid and whirlpool -called a dinner, situated in the meridian shallows. Weather this -danger and you are safe, for the rest of the way is down hill. With -unrelaxed nerves, with morning vigor, sail by it, looking another -way, tied to the mast like Ulysses. If the engine whistles, let it -whistle till it is hoarse for its pains. If the bell rings, why -should we run? We will consider what kind of music they are like. -Let us settle ourselves, and work and wedge our feet downward -through the mud and slush of opinion, and prejudice, and tradition, -and delusion, and appearance, that alluvion which covers the globe, -through Paris and London, through New York and Boston and Concord, -through Church and State, through poetry and philosophy and -religion, till we come to a hard bottom and rocks in place, which we -can call reality, and say, This is, and no mistake and then begin, -having a point d'appui, below freshet and frost and fire, a place -where you might found a wall or a state, or set a lamppost safely, -or perhaps a gauge, not a Nilometer, but a Realometer, that future -ages might know how deep a freshet of shams and appearances had -gathered from time to time. If you stand right fronting and face to -face to a fact, you will see the sun glimmer on both its surfaces, -as if it were a cimeter, and feel its sweet edge dividing you -through the heart and marrow, and so you will happily conclude your -mortal career. Be it life or death, we crave only reality. If we -are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel -cold in the extremities if we are alive, let us go about our -business. -Time is but the stream I go afishing in. I drink at it but -while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. -Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink -deeper fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars. I -cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. I -have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was -born. The intellect is a cleaver it discerns and rifts its way -into the secret of things. I do not wish to be any more busy with -my hands than is necessary. My head is hands and feet. I feel all -my best faculties concentrated in it. My instinct tells me that my -head is an organ for burrowing, as some creatures use their snout -and fore paws, and with it I would mine and burrow my way through -these hills. I think that the richest vein is somewhere hereabouts -so by the diviningrod and thin rising vapors I judge and here I -will begin to mine. -Reading -With a little more deliberation in the choice of their pursuits, -all men would perhaps become essentially students and observers, for -certainly their nature and destiny are interesting to all alike. In -accumulating property for ourselves or our posterity, in founding a -family or a state, or acquiring fame even, we are mortal but in -dealing with truth we are immortal, and need fear no change nor -accident. The oldest Egyptian or Hindoo philosopher raised a corner -of the veil from the statue of the divinity and still the trembling -robe remains raised, and I gaze upon as fresh a glory as he did, -since it was I in him that was then so bold, and it is he in me that -now reviews the vision. No dust has settled on that robe no time -has elapsed since that divinity was revealed. That time which we -really improve, or which is improvable, is neither past, present, -nor future. -My residence was more favorable, not only to thought, but to -serious reading, than a university and though I was beyond the -range of the ordinary circulating library, I had more than ever come -within the influence of those books which circulate round the world, -whose sentences were first written on bark, and are now merely -copied from time to time on to linen paper. Says the poet Mr -Udd, "Being seated, to run through the region of the -spiritual world I have had this advantage in books. To be -intoxicated by a single glass of wine I have experienced this -pleasure when I have drunk the liquor of the esoteric doctrines." I -kept Homer's Iliad on my table through the summer, though I looked -at his page only now and then. Incessant labor with my hands, at -first, for I had my house to finish and my beans to hoe at the same -time, made more study impossible. Yet I sustained myself by the -prospect of such reading in future. I read one or two shallow books -of travel in the intervals of my work, till that employment made me -ashamed of myself, and I asked where it was then that I lived. -The student may read Homer or AEschylus in the Greek without -danger of dissipation or luxuriousness, for it implies that he in -some measure emulate their heroes, and consecrate morning hours to -their pages. The heroic books, even if printed in the character of -our mother tongue, will always be in a language dead to degenerate -times and we must laboriously seek the meaning of each word and -line, conjecturing a larger sense than common use permits out of -what wisdom and valor and generosity we have. The modern cheap and -fertile press, with all its translations, has done little to bring -us nearer to the heroic writers of antiquity. They seem as -solitary, and the letter in which they are printed as rare and -curious, as ever. It is worth the expense of youthful days and -costly hours, if you learn only some words of an ancient language, -which are raised out of the trivialness of the street, to be -perpetual suggestions and provocations. It is not in vain that the -farmer remembers and repeats the few Latin words which he has heard. -Men sometimes speak as if the study of the classics would at length -make way for more modern and practical studies but the adventurous -student will always study classics, in whatever language they may be -written and however ancient they may be. For what are the classics -but the noblest recorded thoughts of man? They are the only oracles -which are not decayed, and there are such answers to the most modern -inquiry in them as Delphi and Dodona never gave. We might as well -omit to study Nature because she is old. To read well, that is, to -read true books in a true spirit, is a noble exercise, and one that -will task the reader more than any exercise which the customs of the -day esteem. It requires a training such as the athletes underwent, -the steady intention almost of the whole life to this object. Books -must be read as deliberately and reservedly as they were written. -It is not enough even to be able to speak the language of that -nation by which they are written, for there is a memorable interval -between the spoken and the written language, the language heard and -the language read. The one is commonly transitory, a sound, a -tongue, a dialect merely, almost brutish, and we learn it -unconsciously, like the brutes, of our mothers. The other is the -maturity and experience of that if that is our mother tongue, this -is our father tongue, a reserved and select expression, too -significant to be heard by the ear, which we must be born again in -order to speak. The crowds of men who merely spoke the Greek and -Latin tongues in the Middle Ages were not entitled by the accident -of birth to read the works of genius written in those languages for -these were not written in that Greek or Latin which they knew, but -in the select language of literature. They had not learned the -nobler dialects of Greece and Rome, but the very materials on which -they were written were waste paper to them, and they prized instead -a cheap contemporary literature. But when the several nations of -Europe had acquired distinct though rude written languages of their -own, sufficient for the purposes of their rising literatures, then -first learning revived, and scholars were enabled to discern from -that remoteness the treasures of antiquity. What the Roman and -Grecian multitude could not hear, after the lapse of ages a few -scholars read, and a few scholars only are still reading it. -However much we may admire the orator's occasional bursts of -eloquence, the noblest written words are commonly as far behind or -above the fleeting spoken language as the firmament with its stars -is behind the clouds. There are the stars, and they who can may -read them. The astronomers forever comment on and observe them. -They are not exhalations like our daily colloquies and vaporous -breath. What is called eloquence in the forum is commonly found to -be rhetoric in the study. The orator yields to the inspiration of a -transient occasion, and speaks to the mob before him, to those who -can hear him but the writer, whose more equable life is his -occasion, and who would be distracted by the event and the crowd -which inspire the orator, speaks to the intellect and health of -mankind, to all in any age who can understand him. -No wonder that Alexander carried the Iliad with him on his -expeditions in a precious casket. A written word is the choicest of -relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more -universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest -to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not -only be read but actually breathed from all human lips not be -represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the -breath of life itself. The symbol of an ancient man's thought -becomes a modern man's speech. Two thousand summers have imparted -to the monuments of Grecian literature, as to her marbles, only a -maturer golden and autumnal tint, for they have carried their own -serene and celestial atmosphere into all lands to protect them -against the corrosion of time. Books are the treasured wealth of -the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations. -Books, the oldest and the best, stand naturally and rightfully on -the shelves of every cottage. They have no cause of their own to -plead, but while they enlighten and sustain the reader his common -sense will not refuse them. Their authors are a natural and -irresistible aristocracy in every society, and, more than kings or -emperors, exert an influence on mankind. When the illiterate and -perhaps scornful trader has earned by enterprise and industry his -coveted leisure and independence, and is admitted to the circles of -wealth and fashion, he turns inevitably at last to those still -higher but yet inaccessible circles of intellect and genius, and is -sensible only of the imperfection of his culture and the vanity and -insufficiency of all his riches, and further proves his good sense -by the pains which be takes to secure for his children that -intellectual culture whose want he so keenly feels and thus it is -that he becomes the founder of a family. -Those who have not learned to read the ancient classics in the -language in which they were written must have a very imperfect -knowledge of the history of the human race for it is remarkable -that no transcript of them has ever been made into any modern -tongue, unless our civilization itself may be regarded as such a -transcript. Homer has never yet been printed in English, nor -AEschylus, nor Virgil even works as refined, as solidly done, and -as beautiful almost as the morning itself for later writers, say -what we will of their genius, have rarely, if ever, equalled the -elaborate beauty and finish and the lifelong and heroic literary -labors of the ancients. They only talk of forgetting them who never -knew them. It will be soon enough to forget them when we have the -learning and the genius which will enable us to attend to and -appreciate them. That age will be rich indeed when those relics -which we call Classics, and the still older and more than classic -but even less known Scriptures of the nations, shall have still -further accumulated, when the Vaticans shall be filled with Vedas -and Zendavestas and Bibles, with Homers and Dantes and Shakespeares, -and all the centuries to come shall have successively deposited -their trophies in the forum of the world. By such a pile we may -hope to scale heaven at last. -The works of the great poets have never yet been read by -mankind, for only great poets can read them. They have only been -read as the multitude read the stars, at most astrologically, not -astronomically. Most men have learned to read to serve a paltry -convenience, as they have learned to cipher in order to keep -accounts and not be cheated in trade but of reading as a noble -intellectual exercise they know little or nothing yet this only is -reading, in a high sense, not that which lulls us as a luxury and -suffers the nobler faculties to sleep the while, but what we have to -stand on tiptoe to read and devote our most alert and wakeful hours -to. -I think that having learned our letters we should read the best -that is in literature, and not be forever repeating our ababs, and -words of one syllable, in the fourth or fifth classes, sitting on -the lowest and foremost form all our lives. Most men are satisfied -if they read or hear read, and perchance have been convicted by the -wisdom of one good book, the Bible, and for the rest of their lives -vegetate and dissipate their faculties in what is called easy -reading. There is a work in several volumes in our Circulating -Library entitled "Little Reading," which I thought referred to a -town of that name which I had not been to. There are those who, -like cormorants and ostriches, can digest all sorts of this, even -after the fullest dinner of meats and vegetables, for they suffer -nothing to be wasted. If others are the machines to provide this -provender, they are the machines to read it. They read the nine -thousandth tale about Zebulon and Sophronia, and how they loved as -none had ever loved before, and neither did the course of their true -love run smooth at any rate, how it did run and stumble, and get -up again and go on how some poor unfortunate got up on to a -steeple, who had better never have gone up as far as the belfry and -then, having needlessly got him up there, the happy novelist rings -the bell for all the world to come together and hear, O dear how he -did get down again For my part, I think that they had better -metamorphose all such aspiring heroes of universal noveldom into man -weathercocks, as they used to put heroes among the constellations, -and let them swing round there till they are rusty, and not come -down at all to bother honest men with their pranks. The next time -the novelist rings the bell I will not stir though the meetinghouse -burn down. "The Skip of the TipToeHop, a Romance of the Middle -Ages, by the celebrated author of "TittleTolTan,' to appear in -monthly parts a great rush don't all come together." All this -they read with saucer eyes, and erect and primitive curiosity, and -with unwearied gizzard, whose corrugations even yet need no -sharpening, just as some little fouryearold bencher his twocent -giltcovered edition of Cinderella without any improvement, that -I can see, in the pronunciation, or accent, or emphasis, or any more -skill in extracting or inserting the moral. The result is dulness -of sight, a stagnation of the vital circulations, and a general -deliquium and sloughing off of all the intellectual faculties. This -sort of gingerbread is baked daily and more sedulously than pure -wheat or ryeandIndian in almost every oven, and finds a surer -market. -The best books are not read even by those who are called good -readers. What does our Concord culture amount to? There is in this -town, with a very few exceptions, no taste for the best or for very -good books even in English literature, whose words all can read and -spell. Even the collegebred and socalled liberally educated men -here and elsewhere have really little or no acquaintance with the -English classics and as for the recorded wisdom of mankind, the -ancient classics and Bibles, which are accessible to all who will -know of them, there are the feeblest efforts anywhere made to become -acquainted with them. I know a woodchopper, of middle age, who -takes a French paper, not for news as he says, for he is above that, -but to "keep himself in practice," he being a Canadian by birth and -when I ask him what he considers the best thing he can do in this -world, he says, beside this, to keep up and add to his English. -This is about as much as the collegebred generally do or aspire to -do, and they take an English paper for the purpose. One who has -just come from reading perhaps one of the best English books will -find how many with whom he can converse about it? Or suppose he -comes from reading a Greek or Latin classic in the original, whose -praises are familiar even to the socalled illiterate he will find -nobody at all to speak to, but must keep silence about it. Indeed, -there is hardly the professor in our colleges, who, if he has -mastered the difficulties of the language, has proportionally -mastered the difficulties of the wit and poetry of a Greek poet, and -has any sympathy to impart to the alert and heroic reader and as -for the sacred Scriptures, or Bibles of mankind, who in this town -can tell me even their titles? Most men do not know that any nation -but the Hebrews have had a scripture. A man, any man, will go -considerably out of his way to pick up a silver dollar but here are -golden words, which the wisest men of antiquity have uttered, and -whose worth the wise of every succeeding age have assured us of -and yet we learn to read only as far as Easy Reading, the primers -and classbooks, and when we leave school, the "Little Reading," and -storybooks, which are for boys and beginners and our reading, our -conversation and thinking, are all on a very low level, worthy only -of pygmies and manikins. -I aspire to be acquainted with wiser men than this our Concord -soil has produced, whose names are hardly known here. Or shall I -hear the name of Plato and never read his book? As if Plato were my -townsman and I never saw him my next neighbor and I never heard -him speak or attended to the wisdom of his words. But how actually -is it? His Dialogues, which contain what was immortal in him, lie -on the next shelf, and yet I never read them. We are underbred and -lowlived and illiterate and in this respect I confess I do not -make any very broad distinction between the illiterateness of my -townsman who cannot read at all and the illiterateness of him who -has learned to read only what is for children and feeble intellects. -We should be as good as the worthies of antiquity, but partly by -first knowing how good they were. We are a race of titmen, and -soar but little higher in our intellectual flights than the columns -of the daily paper. -It is not all books that are as dull as their readers. There -are probably words addressed to our condition exactly, which, if we -could really hear and understand, would be more salutary than the -morning or the spring to our lives, and possibly put a new aspect on -the face of things for us. How many a man has dated a new era in -his life from the reading of a book The book exists for us, -perchance, which will explain our miracles and reveal new ones. The -at present unutterable things we may find somewhere uttered. These -same questions that disturb and puzzle and confound us have in their -turn occurred to all the wise men not one has been omitted and -each has answered them, according to his ability, by his words and -his life. Moreover, with wisdom we shall learn liberality. The -solitary hired man on a farm in the outskirts of Concord, who has -had his second birth and peculiar religious experience, and is -driven as he believes into the silent gravity and exclusiveness by -his faith, may think it is not true but Zoroaster, thousands of -years ago, travelled the same road and had the same experience but -he, being wise, knew it to be universal, and treated his neighbors -accordingly, and is even said to have invented and established -worship among men. Let him humbly commune with Zoroaster then, and -through the liberalizing influence of all the worthies, with Jesus -Christ himself, and let "our church" go by the board. -We boast that we belong to the Nineteenth Century and are making -the most rapid strides of any nation. But consider how little this -village does for its own culture. I do not wish to flatter my -townsmen, nor to be flattered by them, for that will not advance -either of us. We need to be provoked goaded like oxen, as we -are, into a trot. We have a comparatively decent system of common -schools, schools for infants only but excepting the halfstarved -Lyceum in the winter, and latterly the puny beginning of a library -suggested by the State, no school for ourselves. We spend more on -almost any article of bodily aliment or ailment than on our mental -aliment. It is time that we had uncommon schools, that we did not -leave off our education when we begin to be men and women. It is -time that villages were universities, and their elder inhabitants -the fellows of universities, with leisure if they are, indeed, so -well off to pursue liberal studies the rest of their lives. -Shall the world be confined to one Paris or one Oxford forever? -Cannot students be boarded here and get a liberal education under -the skies of Concord? Can we not hire some Abelard to lecture to -us? Alas what with foddering the cattle and tending the store, we -are kept from school too long, and our education is sadly neglected. -In this country, the village should in some respects take the place -of the nobleman of Europe. It should be the patron of the fine -arts. It is rich enough. It wants only the magnanimity and -refinement. It can spend money enough on such things as farmers and -traders value, but it is thought Utopian to propose spending money -for things which more intelligent men know to be of far more worth. -This town has spent seventeen thousand dollars on a townhouse, -thank fortune or politics, but probably it will not spend so much on -living wit, the true meat to put into that shell, in a hundred -years. The one hundred and twentyfive dollars annually subscribed -for a Lyceum in the winter is better spent than any other equal sum -raised in the town. If we live in the Nineteenth Century, why -should we not enjoy the advantages which the Nineteenth Century -offers? Why should our life be in any respect provincial? If we -will read newspapers, why not skip the gossip of Boston and take the -best newspaper in the world at once? not be sucking the pap of -"neutral family" papers, or browsing "Olive Branches" here in New -England. Let the reports of all the learned societies come to us, -and we will see if they know anything. Why should we leave it to -Harper Brothers and Redding Co. to select our reading? As the -nobleman of cultivated taste surrounds himself with whatever -conduces to his culture genius learning wit books -paintings statuary music philosophical instruments, and the -like so let the village do not stop short at a pedagogue, a -parson, a sexton, a parish library, and three selectmen, because our -Pilgrim forefathers got through a cold winter once on a bleak rock -with these. To act collectively is according to the spirit of our -institutions and I am confident that, as our circumstances are more -flourishing, our means are greater than the nobleman's. New England -can hire all the wise men in the world to come and teach her, and -board them round the while, and not be provincial at all. That is -the uncommon school we want. Instead of noblemen, let us have noble -villages of men. If it is necessary, omit one bridge over the -river, go round a little there, and throw one arch at least over the -darker gulf of ignorance which surrounds us. -Sounds -But while we are confined to books, though the most select and -classic, and read only particular written languages, which are -themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of -forgetting the language which all things and events speak without -metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, -but little printed. The rays which stream through the shutter will -be no longer remembered when the shutter is wholly removed. No -method nor discipline can supersede the necessity of being forever -on the alert. What is a course of history or philosophy, or poetry, -no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most -admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of looking -always at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student -merely, or a seer? Read your fate, see what is before you, and walk -on into futurity. -I did not read books the first summer I hoed beans. Nay, I -often did better than this. There were times when I could not -afford to sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to any work, -whether of the head or hands. I love a broad margin to my life. -Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I -sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon, rapt in a revery, -amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude -and stillness, while the birds sing around or flitted noiseless -through the house, until by the sun falling in at my west window, or -the noise of some traveller's wagon on the distant highway, I was -reminded of the lapse of time. I grew in those seasons like corn in -the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would -have been. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much -over and above my usual allowance. I realized what the Orientals -mean by contemplation and the forsaking of works. For the most -part, I minded not how the hours went. The day advanced as if to -light some work of mine it was morning, and lo, now it is evening, -and nothing memorable is accomplished. Instead of singing like the -birds, I silently smiled at my incessant good fortune. As the -sparrow had its trill, sitting on the hickory before my door, so had -I my chuckle or suppressed warble which he might hear out of my -nest. My days were not days of the week, bearing the stamp of any -heathen deity, nor were they minced into hours and fretted by the -ticking of a clock for I lived like the Puri Indians, of whom it is -said that "for yesterday, today, and tomorrow they have only one -word, and they express the variety of meaning by pointing backward -for yesterday forward for tomorrow, and overhead for the passing -day." This was sheer idleness to my fellowtownsmen, no doubt but -if the birds and flowers had tried me by their standard, I should -not have been found wanting. A man must find his occasions in -himself, it is true. The natural day is very calm, and will hardly -reprove his indolence. -I had this advantage, at least, in my mode of life, over those -who were obliged to look abroad for amusement, to society and the -theatre, that my life itself was become my amusement and never -ceased to be novel. It was a drama of many scenes and without an -end. If we were always, indeed, getting our living, and regulating -our lives according to the last and best mode we had learned, we -should never be troubled with ennui. Follow your genius closely -enough, and it will not fail to show you a fresh prospect every -hour. Housework was a pleasant pastime. When my floor was dirty, I -rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass, -bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water on the floor, -and sprinkled white sand from the pond on it, and then with a broom -scrubbed it clean and white and by the time the villagers had -broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to -allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost -uninterupted. It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out -on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy's pack, and my -threelegged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen -and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories. They seemed glad to -get out themselves, and as if unwilling to be brought in. I was -sometimes tempted to stretch an awning over them and take my seat -there. It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things, -and hear the free wind blow on them so much more interesting most -familiar objects look out of doors than in the house. A bird sits -on the next bough, lifeeverlasting grows under the table, and -blackberry vines run round its legs pine cones, chestnut burs, and -strawberry leaves are strewn about. It looked as if this was the -way these forms came to be transferred to our furniture, to tables, -chairs, and bedsteads because they once stood in their midst. -My house was on the side of a hill, immediately on the edge of -the larger wood, in the midst of a young forest of pitch pines and -hickories, and half a dozen rods from the pond, to which a narrow -footpath led down the hill. In my front yard grew the strawberry, -blackberry, and lifeeverlasting, johnswort and goldenrod, shrub -oaks and sand cherry, blueberry and groundnut. Near the end of May, -the sand cherry Cerasus pumila adorned the sides of the path with -its delicate flowers arranged in umbels cylindrically about its -short stems, which last, in the fall, weighed down with goodsized -and handsome cherries, fell over in wreaths like rays on every side. -I tasted them out of compliment to Nature, though they were scarcely -palatable. The sumach Rhus glabra grew luxuriantly about the -house, pushing up through the embankment which I had made, and -growing five or six feet the first season. Its broad pinnate -tropical leaf was pleasant though strange to look on. The large -buds, suddenly pushing out late in the spring from dry sticks which -had seemed to be dead, developed themselves as by magic into -graceful green and tender boughs, an inch in diameter and -sometimes, as I sat at my window, so heedlessly did they grow and -tax their weak joints, I heard a fresh and tender bough suddenly -fall like a fan to the ground, when there was not a breath of air -stirring, broken off by its own weight. In August, the large masses -of berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees, -gradually assumed their bright velvety crimson hue, and by their -weight again bent down and broke the tender limbs. -As I sit at my window this summer afternoon, hawks are circling -about my clearing the tantivy of wild pigeons, flying by two and -threes athwart my view, or perching restless on the white pine -boughs behind my house, gives a voice to the air a fish hawk -dimples the glassy surface of the pond and brings up a fish a mink -steals out of the marsh before my door and seizes a frog by the -shore the sedge is bending under the weight of the reedbirds -flitting hither and thither and for the last halfhour I have heard -the rattle of railroad cars, now dying away and then reviving like -the beat of a partridge, conveying travellers from Boston to the -country. For I did not live so out of the world as that boy who, as -I hear, was put out to a farmer in the east part of the town, but -ere long ran away and came home again, quite down at the heel and -homesick. He had never seen such a dull and outoftheway place -the folks were all gone off why, you couldn't even hear the -whistle I doubt if there is such a place in Massachusetts now -"In truth, our village has become a butt -For one of those fleet railroad shafts, and o'er -Our peaceful plain its soothing sound is Concord." -The Fitchburg Railroad touches the pond about a hundred rods -south of where I dwell. I usually go to the village along its -causeway, and am, as it were, related to society by this link. The -men on the freight trains, who go over the whole length of the road, -bow to me as to an old acquaintance, they pass me so often, and -apparently they take me for an employee and so I am. I too would -fain be a trackrepairer somewhere in the orbit of the earth. -The whistle of the locomotive penetrates my woods summer and -winter, sounding like the scream of a hawk sailing over some -farmer's yard, informing me that many restless city merchants are -arriving within the circle of the town, or adventurous country -traders from the other side. As they come under one horizon, they -shout their warning to get off the track to the other, heard -sometimes through the circles of two towns. Here come your -groceries, country your rations, countrymen Nor is there any man -so independent on his farm that he can say them nay. And here's -your pay for them screams the countryman's whistle timber like -long batteringrams going twenty miles an hour against the city's -walls, and chairs enough to seat all the weary and heavyladen that -dwell within them. With such huge and lumbering civility the -country hands a chair to the city. All the Indian huckleberry hills -are stripped, all the cranberry meadows are raked into the city. Up -comes the cotton, down goes the woven cloth up comes the silk, down -goes the woollen up come the books, but down goes the wit that -writes them. -When I meet the engine with its train of cars moving off with -planetary motion or, rather, like a comet, for the beholder knows -not if with that velocity and with that direction it will ever -revisit this system, since its orbit does not look like a returning -curve with its steam cloud like a banner streaming behind in -golden and silver wreaths, like many a downy cloud which I have -seen, high in the heavens, unfolding its masses to the light as -if this traveling demigod, this cloudcompeller, would ere long take -the sunset sky for the livery of his train when I hear the iron -horse make the hills echo with his snort like thunder, shaking the -earth with his feet, and breathing fire and smoke from his nostrils -what kind of winged horse or fiery dragon they will put into the -new Mythology I don't know, it seems as if the earth had got a race -now worthy to inhabit it. If all were as it seems, and men made the -elements their servants for noble ends If the cloud that hangs -over the engine were the perspiration of heroic deeds, or as -beneficent as that which floats over the farmer's fields, then the -elements and Nature herself would cheerfully accompany men on their -errands and be their escort. -I watch the passage of the morning cars with the same feeling -that I do the rising of the sun, which is hardly more regular. -Their train of clouds stretching far behind and rising higher and -higher, going to heaven while the cars are going to Boston, conceals -the sun for a minute and casts my distant field into the shade, a -celestial train beside which the petty train of cars which hugs the -earth is but the barb of the spear. The stabler of the iron horse -was up early this winter morning by the light of the stars amid the -mountains, to fodder and harness his steed. Fire, too, was awakened -thus early to put the vital heat in him and get him off. If the -enterprise were as innocent as it is early If the snow lies deep, -they strap on his snowshoes, and, with the giant plow, plow a furrow -from the mountains to the seaboard, in which the cars, like a -following drillbarrow, sprinkle all the restless men and floating -merchandise in the country for seed. All day the firesteed flies -over the country, stopping only that his master may rest, and I am -awakened by his tramp and defiant snort at midnight, when in some -remote glen in the woods he fronts the elements incased in ice and -snow and he will reach his stall only with the morning star, to -start once more on his travels without rest or slumber. Or -perchance, at evening, I hear him in his stable blowing off the -superfluous energy of the day, that he may calm his nerves and cool -his liver and brain for a few hours of iron slumber. If the -enterprise were as heroic and commanding as it is protracted and -unwearied -Far through unfrequented woods on the confines of towns, where -once only the hunter penetrated by day, in the darkest night dart -these bright saloons without the knowledge of their inhabitants -this moment stopping at some brilliant stationhouse in town or -city, where a social crowd is gathered, the next in the Dismal -Swamp, scaring the owl and fox. The startings and arrivals of the -cars are now the epochs in the village day. They go and come with -such regularity and precision, and their whistle can be heard so -far, that the farmers set their clocks by them, and thus one -wellconducted institution regulates a whole country. Have not men -improved somewhat in punctuality since the railroad was invented? -Do they not talk and think faster in the depot than they did in the -stageoffice? There is something electrifying in the atmosphere of -the former place. I have been astonished at the miracles it has -wrought that some of my neighbors, who, I should have prophesied, -once for all, would never get to Boston by so prompt a conveyance, -are on hand when the bell rings. To do things "railroad fashion" is -now the byword and it is worth the while to be warned so often and -so sincerely by any power to get off its track. There is no -stopping to read the riot act, no firing over the heads of the mob, -in this case. We have constructed a fate, an Atropos, that never -turns aside. Let that be the name of your engine. Men are -advertised that at a certain hour and minute these bolts will be -shot toward particular points of the compass yet it interferes with -no man's business, and the children go to school on the other track. -We live the steadier for it. We are all educated thus to be sons of -Tell. The air is full of invisible bolts. Every path but your own -is the path of fate. Keep on your own track, then. -What recommends commerce to me is its enterprise and bravery. -It does not clasp its hands and pray to Jupiter. I see these men -every day go about their business with more or less courage and -content, doing more even than they suspect, and perchance better -employed than they could have consciously devised. I am less -affected by their heroism who stood up for half an hour in the front -line at Buena Vista, than by the steady and cheerful valor of the -men who inhabit the snowplow for their winter quarters who have not -merely the threeo'clockinthemorning courage, which Bonaparte -thought was the rarest, but whose courage does not go to rest so -early, who go to sleep only when the storm sleeps or the sinews of -their iron steed are frozen. On this morning of the Great Snow, -perchance, which is still raging and chilling men's blood, I bear -the muffled tone of their engine bell from out the fog bank of their -chilled breath, which announces that the cars are coming, without -long delay, notwithstanding the veto of a New England northeast -snowstorm, and I behold the plowmen covered with snow and rime, -their heads peering, above the mouldboard which is turning down -other than daisies and the nests of field mice, like bowlders of the -Sierra Nevada, that occupy an outside place in the universe. -Commerce is unexpectedly confident and serene, alert, -adventurous, and unwearied. It is very natural in its methods -withal, far more so than many fantastic enterprises and sentimental -experiments, and hence its singular success. I am refreshed and -expanded when the freight train rattles past me, and I smell the -stores which go dispensing their odors all the way from Long Wharf -to Lake Champlain, reminding me of foreign parts, of coral reefs, -and Indian oceans, and tropical climes, and the extent of the globe. -I feel more like a citizen of the world at the sight of the -palmleaf which will cover so many flaxen New England heads the next -summer, the Manilla hemp and cocoanut husks, the old junk, gunny -bags, scrap iron, and rusty nails. This carload of torn sails is -more legible and interesting now than if they should be wrought into -paper and printed books. Who can write so graphically the history -of the storms they have weathered as these rents have done? They -are proofsheets which need no correction. Here goes lumber from -the Maine woods, which did not go out to sea in the last freshet, -risen four dollars on the thousand because of what did go out or was -split up pine, spruce, cedar first, second, third, and fourth -qualities, so lately all of one quality, to wave over the bear, and -moose, and caribou. Next rolls Thomaston lime, a prime lot, which -will get far among the hills before it gets slacked. These rags in -bales, of all hues and qualities, the lowest condition to which -cotton and linen descend, the final result of dress of patterns -which are now no longer cried up, unless it be in Milwaukee, as -those splendid articles, English, French, or American prints, -ginghams, muslins, etc., gathered from all quarters both of fashion -and poverty, going to become paper of one color or a few shades -only, on which, forsooth, will be written tales of real life, high -and low, and founded on fact This closed car smells of salt fish, -the strong New England and commercial scent, reminding me of the -Grand Banks and the fisheries. Who has not seen a salt fish, -thoroughly cured for this world, so that nothing can spoil it, and -putting, the perseverance of the saints to the blush? with which you -may sweep or pave the streets, and split your kindlings, and the -teamster shelter himself and his lading against sun, wind, and rain -behind it and the trader, as a Concord trader once did, hang it -up by his door for a sign when he commences business, until at last -his oldest customer cannot tell surely whether it be animal, -vegetable, or mineral, and yet it shall be as pure as a snowflake, -and if it be put into a pot and boiled, will come out an excellent -dunfish for a Saturday's dinner. Next Spanish hides, with the -tails still preserving their twist and the angle of elevation they -had when the oxen that wore them were careering over the pampas of -the Spanish Main a type of all obstinacy, and evincing how almost -hopeless and incurable are all constitutional vices. I confess, -that practically speaking, when I have learned a man's real -disposition, I have no hopes of changing it for the better or worse -in this state of existence. As the Orientals say, "A cur's tail may -be warmed, and pressed, and bound round with ligatures, and after a -twelve years' labor bestowed upon it, still it will retain its -natural form." The only effectual cure for such inveteracies as -these tails exhibit is to make glue of them, which I believe is what -is usually done with them, and then they will stay put and stick. -Here is a hogshead of molasses or of brandy directed to John Smith, -Cuttingsville, Vermont, some trader among the Green Mountains, who -imports for the farmers near his clearing, and now perchance stands -over his bulkhead and thinks of the last arrivals on the coast, how -they may affect the price for him, telling his customers this -moment, as he has told them twenty times before this morning, that -he expects some by the next train of prime quality. It is -advertised in the Cuttingsville Times. -While these things go up other things come down. Warned by the -whizzing sound, I look up from my book and see some tall pine, hewn -on far northern hills, which has winged its way over the Green -Mountains and the Connecticut, shot like an arrow through the -township within ten minutes, and scarce another eye beholds it -going -"to be the mast -Of some great ammiral." -And hark here comes the cattletrain bearing the cattle of a -thousand hills, sheepcots, stables, and cowyards in the air, -drovers with their sticks, and shepherd boys in the midst of their -flocks, all but the mountain pastures, whirled along like leaves -blown from the mountains by the September gales. The air is filled -with the bleating of calves and sheep, and the hustling of oxen, as -if a pastoral valley were going by. When the old bellwether at the -head rattles his bell, the mountains do indeed skip like rams and -the little hills like lambs. A carload of drovers, too, in the -midst, on a level with their droves now, their vocation gone, but -still clinging to their useless sticks as their badge of office. -But their dogs, where are they? It is a stampede to them they are -quite thrown out they have lost the scent. Methinks I hear them -barking behind the Peterboro' Hills, or panting up the western slope -of the Green Mountains. They will not be in at the death. Their -vocation, too, is gone. Their fidelity and sagacity are below par -now. They will slink back to their kennels in disgrace, or -perchance run wild and strike a league with the wolf and the fox. -So is your pastoral life whirled past and away. But the bell rings, -and I must get off the track and let the cars go by -What's the railroad to me? -I never go to see -Where it ends. -It fills a few hollows, -And makes banks for the swallows, -It sets the sand ablowing, -And the blackberries agrowing, -but I cross it like a cartpath in the woods. I will not have my -eyes put out and my ears spoiled by its smoke and steam and hissing. -Now that the cars are gone by and all the restless world with -them, and the fishes in the pond no longer feel their rumbling, I am -more alone than ever. For the rest of the long afternoon, perhaps, -my meditations are interrupted only by the faint rattle of a -carriage or team along the distant highway. -Sometimes, on Sundays, I heard the bells, the Lincoln, Acton, -Bedford, or Concord bell, when the wind was favorable, a faint, -sweet, and, as it were, natural melody, worth importing into the -wilderness. At a sufficient distance over the woods this sound -acquires a certain vibratory hum, as if the pine needles in the -horizon were the strings of a harp which it swept. All sound heard -at the greatest possible distance produces one and the same effect, -a vibration of the universal lyre, just as the intervening -atmosphere makes a distant ridge of earth interesting to our eyes by -the azure tint it imparts to it. There came to me in this case a -melody which the air had strained, and which had conversed with -every leaf and needle of the wood, that portion of the sound which -the elements had taken up and modulated and echoed from vale to -vale. The echo is, to some extent, an original sound, and therein -is the magic and charm of it. It is not merely a repetition of what -was worth repeating in the bell, but partly the voice of the wood -the same trivial words and notes sung by a woodnymph. -At evening, the distant lowing of some cow in the horizon beyond -the woods sounded sweet and melodious, and at first I would mistake -it for the voices of certain minstrels by whom I was sometimes -serenaded, who might be straying over hill and dale but soon I was -not unpleasantly disappointed when it was prolonged into the cheap -and natural music of the cow. I do not mean to be satirical, but to -express my appreciation of those youths' singing, when I state that -I perceived clearly that it was akin to the music of the cow, and -they were at length one articulation of Nature. -Regularly at halfpast seven, in one part of the summer, after -the evening train had gone by, the whippoorwills chanted their -vespers for half an hour, sitting on a stump by my door, or upon the -ridgepole of the house. They would begin to sing almost with as -much precision as a clock, within five minutes of a particular time, -referred to the setting of the sun, every evening. I had a rare -opportunity to become acquainted with their habits. Sometimes I -heard four or five at once in different parts of the wood, by -accident one a bar behind another, and so near me that I -distinguished not only the cluck after each note, but often that -singular buzzing sound like a fly in a spider's web, only -proportionally louder. Sometimes one would circle round and round -me in the woods a few feet distant as if tethered by a string, when -probably I was near its eggs. They sang at intervals throughout the -night, and were again as musical as ever just before and about dawn. -When other birds are still, the screech owls take up the strain, -like mourning women their ancient ululu. Their dismal scream is -truly Ben Jonsonian. Wise midnight hags It is no honest and blunt -tuwhit tuwho of the poets, but, without jesting, a most solemn -graveyard ditty, the mutual consolations of suicide lovers -remembering the pangs and the delights of supernal love in the -infernal groves. Yet I love to hear their wailing, their doleful -responses, trilled along the woodside reminding me sometimes of -music and singing birds as if it were the dark and tearful side of -music, the regrets and sighs that would fain be sung. They are the -spirits, the low spirits and melancholy forebodings, of fallen souls -that once in human shape nightwalked the earth and did the deeds of -darkness, now expiating their sins with their wailing hymns or -threnodies in the scenery of their transgressions. They give me a -new sense of the variety and capacity of that nature which is our -common dwelling. Ohoooo that I never had been borrrrn -sighs one on this side of the pond, and circles with the -restlessness of despair to some new perch on the gray oaks. Then -that I never had been borrrrn echoes another on the farther -side with tremulous sincerity, and borrrrn comes faintly -from far in the Lincoln woods. -I was also serenaded by a hooting owl. Near at hand you could -fancy it the most melancholy sound in Nature, as if she meant by -this to stereotype and make permanent in her choir the dying moans -of a human being some poor weak relic of mortality who has left -hope behind, and howls like an animal, yet with human sobs, on -entering the dark valley, made more awful by a certain gurgling -melodiousness I find myself beginning with the letters gl when I -try to imitate it expressive of a mind which has reached the -gelatinous, mildewy stage in the mortification of all healthy and -courageous thought. It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane -howlings. But now one answers from far woods in a strain made -really melodious by distance Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer hoo and indeed -for the most part it suggested only pleasing associations, whether -heard by day or night, summer or winter. -I rejoice that there are owls. Let them do the idiotic and -maniacal hooting for men. It is a sound admirably suited to swamps -and twilight woods which no day illustrates, suggesting a vast and -undeveloped nature which men have not recognized. They represent -the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have. All day -the sun has shone on the surface of some savage swamp, where the -single spruce stands hung with usnea lichens, and small hawks -circulate above, and the chickadee lisps amid the evergreens, and -the partridge and rabbit skulk beneath but now a more dismal and -fitting day dawns, and a different race of creatures awakes to -express the meaning of Nature there. -Late in the evening I heard the distant rumbling of wagons over -bridges a sound heard farther than almost any other at night -the baying of dogs, and sometimes again the lowing of some -disconsolate cow in a distant barnyard. In the meanwhile all the -shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of -ancient winebibbers and wassailers, still unrepentant, trying to -sing a catch in their Stygian lake if the Walden nymphs will -pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there -are frogs there who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of -their old festal tables, though their voices have waxed hoarse and -solemnly grave, mocking at mirth, and the wine has lost its flavor, -and become only liquor to distend their paunches, and sweet -intoxication never comes to drown the memory of the past, but mere -saturation and waterloggedness and distention. The most aldermanic, -with his chin upon a heartleaf, which serves for a napkin to his -drooling chaps, under this northern shore quaffs a deep draught of -the once scorned water, and passes round the cup with the -ejaculation trrroonk, trrroonk, trrroonk and straightway -comes over the water from some distant cove the same password -repeated, where the next in seniority and girth has gulped down to -his mark and when this observance has made the circuit of the -shores, then ejaculates the master of ceremonies, with satisfaction, -trrroonk and each in his turn repeats the same down to the least -distended, leakiest, and flabbiest paunched, that there be no -mistake and then the howl goes round again and again, until the sun -disperses the morning mist, and only the patriarch is not under the -pond, but vainly bellowing troonk from time to time, and pausing for -a reply. -I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cockcrowing from -my clearing, and I thought that it might be worth the while to keep -a cockerel for his music merely, as a singing bird. The note of -this once wild Indian pheasant is certainly the most remarkable of -any bird's, and if they could be naturalized without being -domesticated, it would soon become the most famous sound in our -woods, surpassing the clangor of the goose and the hooting of the -owl and then imagine the cackling of the hens to fill the pauses -when their lords' clarions rested No wonder that man added this -bird to his tame stock to say nothing of the eggs and drumsticks. -To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded, -their native woods, and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees, -clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth, drowning the -feebler notes of other birds think of it It would put nations -on the alert. Who would not be early to rise, and rise earlier and -earlier every successive day of his life, till he became unspeakably -healthy, wealthy, and wise? This foreign bird's note is celebrated -by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native -songsters. All climates agree with brave Chanticleer. He is more -indigenous even than the natives. His health is ever good, his -lungs are sound, his spirits never flag. Even the sailor on the -Atlantic and Pacific is awakened by his voice but its shrill sound -never roused me from my slumbers. I kept neither dog, cat, cow, -pig, nor hens, so that you would have said there was a deficiency of -domestic sounds neither the churn, nor the spinningwheel, nor even -the singing of the kettle, nor the hissing of the urn, nor children -crying, to comfort one. An oldfashioned man would have lost his -senses or died of ennui before this. Not even rats in the wall, for -they were starved out, or rather were never baited in only -squirrels on the roof and under the floor, a whippoorwill on the -ridgepole, a blue jay screaming beneath the window, a hare or -woodchuck under the house, a screech owl or a cat owl behind it, a -flock of wild geese or a laughing loon on the pond, and a fox to -bark in the night. Not even a lark or an oriole, those mild -plantation birds, ever visited my clearing. No cockerels to crow -nor hens to cackle in the yard. No yard but unfenced nature -reaching up to your very sills. A young forest growing up under -your meadows, and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through -into your cellar sturdy pitch pines rubbing and creaking against -the shingles for want of room, their roots reaching quite under the -house. Instead of a scuttle or a blind blown off in the gale a -pine tree snapped off or torn up by the roots behind your house for -fuel. Instead of no path to the frontyard gate in the Great Snow -no gate no frontyard and no path to the civilized world. -Solitude -This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense, -and imbibes delight through every pore. I go and come with a -strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself. As I walk along the -stony shore of the pond in my shirtsleeves, though it is cool as -well as cloudy and windy, and I see nothing special to attract me, -all the elements are unusually congenial to me. The bullfrogs trump -to usher in the night, and the note of the whippoorwill is borne -on the rippling wind from over the water. Sympathy with the -fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath yet, -like the lake, my serenity is rippled but not ruffled. These small -waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the -smooth reflecting surface. Though it is now dark, the wind still -blows and roars in the wood, the waves still dash, and some -creatures lull the rest with their notes. The repose is never -complete. The wildest animals do not repose, but seek their prey -now the fox, and skunk, and rabbit, now roam the fields and woods -without fear. They are Nature's watchmen links which connect the -days of animated life. -When I return to my house I find that visitors have been there -and left their cards, either a bunch of flowers, or a wreath of -evergreen, or a name in pencil on a yellow walnut leaf or a chip. -They who come rarely to the woods take some little piece of the -forest into their hands to play with by the way, which they leave, -either intentionally or accidentally. One has peeled a willow wand, -woven it into a ring, and dropped it on my table. I could always -tell if visitors had called in my absence, either by the bended -twigs or grass, or the print of their shoes, and generally of what -sex or age or quality they were by some slight trace left, as a -flower dropped, or a bunch of grass plucked and thrown away, even as -far off as the railroad, half a mile distant, or by the lingering -odor of a cigar or pipe. Nay, I was frequently notified of the -passage of a traveller along the highway sixty rods off by the scent -of his pipe. -There is commonly sufficient space about us. Our horizon is -never quite at our elbows. The thick wood is not just at our door, -nor the pond, but somewhat is always clearing, familiar and worn by -us, appropriated and fenced in some way, and reclaimed from Nature. -For what reason have I this vast range and circuit, some square -miles of unfrequented forest, for my privacy, abandoned to me by -men? My nearest neighbor is a mile distant, and no house is visible -from any place but the hilltops within half a mile of my own. I -have my horizon bounded by woods all to myself a distant view of -the railroad where it touches the pond on the one hand, and of the -fence which skirts the woodland road on the other. But for the most -part it is as solitary where I live as on the prairies. It is as -much Asia or Africa as New England. I have, as it were, my own sun -and moon and stars, and a little world all to myself. At night -there was never a traveller passed my house, or knocked at my door, -more than if I were the first or last man unless it were in the -spring, when at long intervals some came from the village to fish -for pouts they plainly fished much more in the Walden Pond of -their own natures, and baited their hooks with darkness but they -soon retreated, usually with light baskets, and left "the world to -darkness and to me," and the black kernel of the night was never -profaned by any human neighborhood. I believe that men are -generally still a little afraid of the dark, though the witches are -all hung, and Christianity and candles have been introduced. -Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender, the -most innocent and encouraging society may be found in any natural -object, even for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man. -There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst -of Nature and has his senses still. There was never yet such a -storm but it was AEolian music to a healthy and innocent ear. -Nothing can rightly compel a simple and brave man to a vulgar -sadness. While I enjoy the friendship of the seasons I trust that -nothing can make life a burden to me. The gentle rain which waters -my beans and keeps me in the house today is not drear and -melancholy, but good for me too. Though it prevents my hoeing them, -it is of far more worth than my hoeing. If it should continue so -long as to cause the seeds to rot in the ground and destroy the -potatoes in the low lands, it would still be good for the grass on -the uplands, and, being good for the grass, it would be good for me. -Sometimes, when I compare myself with other men, it seems as if I -were more favored by the gods than they, beyond any deserts that I -am conscious of as if I had a warrant and surety at their hands -which my fellows have not, and were especially guided and guarded. -I do not flatter myself, but if it be possible they flatter me. I -have never felt lonesome, or in the least oppressed by a sense of -solitude, but once, and that was a few weeks after I came to the -woods, when, for an hour, I doubted if the near neighborhood of man -was not essential to a serene and healthy life. To be alone was -something unpleasant. But I was at the same time conscious of a -slight insanity in my mood, and seemed to foresee my recovery. In -the midst of a gentle rain while these thoughts prevailed, I was -suddenly sensible of such sweet and beneficent society in Nature, in -the very pattering of the drops, and in every sound and sight around -my house, an infinite and unaccountable friendliness all at once -like an atmosphere sustaining me, as made the fancied advantages of -human neighborhood insignificant, and I have never thought of them -since. Every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy -and befriended me. I was so distinctly made aware of the presence -of something kindred to me, even in scenes which we are accustomed -to call wild and dreary, and also that the nearest of blood to me -and humanest was not a person nor a villager, that I thought no -place could ever be strange to me again. -"Mourning untimely consumes the sad -Few are their days in the land of the living, -Beautiful daughter of Toscar." -Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long rainstorms in -the spring or fall, which confined me to the house for the afternoon -as well as the forenoon, soothed by their ceaseless roar and -pelting when an early twilight ushered in a long evening in which -many thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves. In those -driving northeast rains which tried the village houses so, when the -maids stood ready with mop and pail in front entries to keep the -deluge out, I sat behind my door in my little house, which was all -entry, and thoroughly enjoyed its protection. In one heavy -thundershower the lightning struck a large pitch pine across the -pond, making a very conspicuous and perfectly regular spiral groove -from top to bottom, an inch or more deep, and four or five inches -wide, as you would groove a walkingstick. I passed it again the -other day, and was struck with awe on looking up and beholding that -mark, now more distinct than ever, where a terrific and resistless -bolt came down out of the harmless sky eight years ago. Men -frequently say to me, "I should think you would feel lonesome down -there, and want to be nearer to folks, rainy and snowy days and -nights especially." I am tempted to reply to such This whole -earth which we inhabit is but a point in space. How far apart, -think you, dwell the two most distant inhabitants of yonder star, -the breadth of whose disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments? -Why should I feel lonely? is not our planet in the Milky Way? This -which you put seems to me not to be the most important question. -What sort of space is that which separates a man from his fellows -and makes him solitary? I have found that no exertion of the legs -can bring two minds much nearer to one another. What do we want -most to dwell near to? Not to many men surely, the depot, the -postoffice, the barroom, the meetinghouse, the schoolhouse, the -grocery, Beacon Hill, or the Five Points, where men most congregate, -but to the perennial source of our life, whence in all our -experience we have found that to issue, as the willow stands near -the water and sends out its roots in that direction. This will vary -with different natures, but this is the place where a wise man will -dig his cellar.... I one evening overtook one of my townsmen, who -has accumulated what is called "a handsome property" though I -never got a fair view of it on the Walden road, driving a pair of -cattle to market, who inquired of me how I could bring my mind to -give up so many of the comforts of life. I answered that I was very -sure I liked it passably well I was not joking. And so I went home -to my bed, and left him to pick his way through the darkness and the -mud to Brighton or Brighttown which place he would reach some -time in the morning. -Any prospect of awakening or coming to life to a dead man makes -indifferent all times and places. The place where that may occur is -always the same, and indescribably pleasant to all our senses. For -the most part we allow only outlying and transient circumstances to -make our occasions. They are, in fact, the cause of our -distraction. Nearest to all things is that power which fashions -their being. Next to us the grandest laws are continually being -executed. Next to us is not the workman whom we have hired, with -whom we love so well to talk, but the workman whose work we are. -"How vast and profound is the influence of the subtile powers of -Heaven and of Earth" -"We seek to perceive them, and we do not see them we seek to -hear them, and we do not hear them identified with the substance of -things, they cannot be separated from them." -"They cause that in all the universe men purify and sanctify -their hearts, and clothe themselves in their holiday garments to -offer sacrifices and oblations to their ancestors. It is an ocean -of subtile intelligences. They are everywhere, above us, on our -left, on our right they environ us on all sides." -We are the subjects of an experiment which is not a little -interesting to me. Can we not do without the society of our gossips -a little while under these circumstances have our own thoughts to -cheer us? Confucius says truly, "Virtue does not remain as an -abandoned orphan it must of necessity have neighbors." -With thinking we may be beside ourselves in a sane sense. By a -conscious effort of the mind we can stand aloof from actions and -their consequences and all things, good and bad, go by us like a -torrent. We are not wholly involved in Nature. I may be either the -driftwood in the stream, or Indra in the sky looking down on it. I -may be affected by a theatrical exhibition on the other hand, I may -not be affected by an actual event which appears to concern me much -more. I only know myself as a human entity the scene, so to speak, -of thoughts and affections and am sensible of a certain doubleness -by which I can stand as remote from myself as from another. However -intense my experience, I am conscious of the presence and criticism -of a part of me, which, as it were, is not a part of me, but -spectator, sharing no experience, but taking note of it, and that is -no more I than it is you. When the play, it may be the tragedy, of -life is over, the spectator goes his way. It was a kind of fiction, -a work of the imagination only, so far as he was concerned. This -doubleness may easily make us poor neighbors and friends sometimes. -I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. -To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and -dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that -was so companionable as solitude. We are for the most part more -lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our -chambers. A man thinking or working is always alone, let him be -where he will. Solitude is not measured by the miles of space that -intervene between a man and his fellows. The really diligent -student in one of the crowded hives of Cambridge College is as -solitary as a dervish in the desert. The farmer can work alone in -the field or the woods all day, hoeing or chopping, and not feel -lonesome, because he is employed but when he comes home at night he -cannot sit down in a room alone, at the mercy of his thoughts, but -must be where he can "see the folks," and recreate, and, as he -thinks, remunerate himself for his day's solitude and hence he -wonders how the student can sit alone in the house all night and -most of the day without ennui and "the blues" but he does not -realize that the student, though in the house, is still at work in -his field, and chopping in his woods, as the farmer in his, and in -turn seeks the same recreation and society that the latter does, -though it may be a more condensed form of it. -Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, -not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We -meet at meals three times a day, and give each other a new taste of -that old musty cheese that we are. We have had to agree on a -certain set of rules, called etiquette and politeness, to make this -frequent meeting tolerable and that we need not come to open war. -We meet at the postoffice, and at the sociable, and about the -fireside every night we live thick and are in each other's way, and -stumble over one another, and I think that we thus lose some respect -for one another. Certainly less frequency would suffice for all -important and hearty communications. Consider the girls in a -factory never alone, hardly in their dreams. It would be better -if there were but one inhabitant to a square mile, as where I live. -The value of a man is not in his skin, that we should touch him. -I have heard of a man lost in the woods and dying of famine and -exhaustion at the foot of a tree, whose loneliness was relieved by -the grotesque visions with which, owing to bodily weakness, his -diseased imagination surrounded him, and which he believed to be -real. So also, owing to bodily and mental health and strength, we -may be continually cheered by a like but more normal and natural -society, and come to know that we are never alone. -I have a great deal of company in my house especially in the -morning, when nobody calls. Let me suggest a few comparisons, that -some one may convey an idea of my situation. I am no more lonely -than the loon in the pond that laughs so loud, or than Walden Pond -itself. What company has that lonely lake, I pray? And yet it has -not the blue devils, but the blue angels in it, in the azure tint of -its waters. The sun is alone, except in thick weather, when there -sometimes appear to be two, but one is a mock sun. God is alone -but the devil, he is far from being alone he sees a great deal of -company he is legion. I am no more lonely than a single mullein or -dandelion in a pasture, or a bean leaf, or sorrel, or a horsefly, -or a bumblebee. I am no more lonely than the Mill Brook, or a -weathercock, or the north star, or the south wind, or an April -shower, or a January thaw, or the first spider in a new house. -I have occasional visits in the long winter evenings, when the -snow falls fast and the wind howls in the wood, from an old settler -and original proprietor, who is reported to have dug Walden Pond, -and stoned it, and fringed it with pine woods who tells me stories -of old time and of new eternity and between us we manage to pass a -cheerful evening with social mirth and pleasant views of things, -even without apples or cider a most wise and humorous friend, -whom I love much, who keeps himself more secret than ever did Goffe -or Whalley and though he is thought to be dead, none can show where -he is buried. An elderly dame, too, dwells in my neighborhood, -invisible to most persons, in whose odorous herb garden I love to -stroll sometimes, gathering simples and listening to her fables for -she has a genius of unequalled fertility, and her memory runs back -farther than mythology, and she can tell me the original of every -fable, and on what fact every one is founded, for the incidents -occurred when she was young. A ruddy and lusty old dame, who -delights in all weathers and seasons, and is likely to outlive all -her children yet. -The indescribable innocence and beneficence of Nature of sun -and wind and rain, of summer and winter such health, such cheer, -they afford forever and such sympathy have they ever with our race, -that all Nature would be affected, and the sun's brightness fade, -and the winds would sigh humanely, and the clouds rain tears, and -the woods shed their leaves and put on mourning in midsummer, if any -man should ever for a just cause grieve. Shall I not have -intelligence with the earth? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable -mould myself? -What is the pill which will keep us well, serene, contented? -Not my or thy greatgrandfather's, but our greatgrandmother -Nature's universal, vegetable, botanic medicines, by which she has -kept herself young always, outlived so many old Parrs in her day, -and fed her health with their decaying fatness. For my panacea, -instead of one of those quack vials of a mixture dipped from Acheron -and the Dead Sea, which come out of those long shallow -blackschooner looking wagons which we sometimes see made to carry -bottles, let me have a draught of undiluted morning air. Morning -air If men will not drink of this at the fountainhead of the day, -why, then, we must even bottle up some and sell it in the shops, for -the benefit of those who have lost their subscription ticket to -morning time in this world. But remember, it will not keep quite -till noonday even in the coolest cellar, but drive out the stopples -long ere that and follow westward the steps of Aurora. I am no -worshipper of Hygeia, who was the daughter of that old herbdoctor -AEsculapius, and who is represented on monuments holding a serpent -in one hand, and in the other a cup out of which the serpent -sometimes drinks but rather of Hebe, cupbearer to Jupiter, who was -the daughter of Juno and wild lettuce, and who had the power of -restoring gods and men to the vigor of youth. She was probably the -only thoroughly soundconditioned, healthy, and robust young lady -that ever walked the globe, and wherever she came it was spring. -Visitors -I think that I love society as much as most, and am ready enough -to fasten myself like a bloodsucker for the time to any fullblooded -man that comes in my way. I am naturally no hermit, but might -possibly sit out the sturdiest frequenter of the barroom, if my -business called me thither. -I had three chairs in my house one for solitude, two for -friendship, three for society. When visitors came in larger and -unexpected numbers there was but the third chair for them all, but -they generally economized the room by standing up. It is surprising -how many great men and women a small house will contain. I have had -twentyfive or thirty souls, with their bodies, at once under my -roof, and yet we often parted without being aware that we had come -very near to one another. Many of our houses, both public and -private, with their almost innumerable apartments, their huge halls -and their cellars for the storage of wines and other munitions of -peace, appear to be extravagantly large for their inhabitants. They -are so vast and magnificent that the latter seem to be only vermin -which infest them. I am surprised when the herald blows his summons -before some Tremont or Astor or Middlesex House, to see come -creeping out over the piazza for all inhabitants a ridiculous mouse, -which soon again slinks into some hole in the pavement. -One inconvenience I sometimes experienced in so small a house, -the difficulty of getting to a sufficient distance from my guest -when we began to utter the big thoughts in big words. You want room -for your thoughts to get into sailing trim and run a course or two -before they make their port. The bullet of your thought must have -overcome its lateral and ricochet motion and fallen into its last -and steady course before it reaches the ear of the hearer, else it -may plow out again through the side of his head. Also, our -sentences wanted room to unfold and form their columns in the -interval. Individuals, like nations, must have suitable broad and -natural boundaries, even a considerable neutral ground, between -them. I have found it a singular luxury to talk across the pond to -a companion on the opposite side. In my house we were so near that -we could not begin to hear we could not speak low enough to be -heard as when you throw two stones into calm water so near that -they break each other's undulations. If we are merely loquacious -and loud talkers, then we can afford to stand very near together, -cheek by jowl, and feel each other's breath but if we speak -reservedly and thoughtfully, we want to be farther apart, that all -animal heat and moisture may have a chance to evaporate. If we -would enjoy the most intimate society with that in each of us which -is without, or above, being spoken to, we must not only be silent, -but commonly so far apart bodily that we cannot possibly hear each -other's voice in any case. Referred to this standard, speech is for -the convenience of those who are hard of hearing but there are many -fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout. As the -conversation began to assume a loftier and grander tone, we -gradually shoved our chairs farther apart till they touched the wall -in opposite corners, and then commonly there was not room enough. -My "best" room, however, my withdrawing room, always ready for -company, on whose carpet the sun rarely fell, was the pine wood -behind my house. Thither in summer days, when distinguished guests -came, I took them, and a priceless domestic swept the floor and -dusted the furniture and kept the things in order. -If one guest came he sometimes partook of my frugal meal, and it -was no interruption to conversation to be stirring a hastypudding, -or watching the rising and maturing of a loaf of bread in the ashes, -in the meanwhile. But if twenty came and sat in my house there was -nothing said about dinner, though there might be bread enough for -two, more than if eating were a forsaken habit but we naturally -practised abstinence and this was never felt to be an offence -against hospitality, but the most proper and considerate course. -The waste and decay of physical life, which so often needs repair, -seemed miraculously retarded in such a case, and the vital vigor -stood its ground. I could entertain thus a thousand as well as -twenty and if any ever went away disappointed or hungry from my -house when they found me at home, they may depend upon it that I -sympathized with them at least. So easy is it, though many -housekeepers doubt it, to establish new and better customs in the -place of the old. You need not rest your reputation on the dinners -you give. For my own part, I was never so effectually deterred from -frequenting a man's house, by any kind of Cerberus whatever, as by -the parade one made about dining me, which I took to be a very -polite and roundabout hint never to trouble him so again. I think I -shall never revisit those scenes. I should be proud to have for the -motto of my cabin those lines of Spenser which one of my visitors -inscribed on a yellow walnut leaf for a card -"Arrived there, the little house they fill, -Ne looke for entertainment where none was -Rest is their feast, and all things at their will -The noblest mind the best contentment has." -When Winslow, afterward governor of the Plymouth Colony, went -with a companion on a visit of ceremony to Massasoit on foot through -the woods, and arrived tired and hungry at his lodge, they were well -received by the king, but nothing was said about eating that day. -When the night arrived, to quote their own words "He laid us on -the bed with himself and his wife, they at the one end and we at the -other, it being only planks laid a foot from the ground and a thin -mat upon them. Two more of his chief men, for want of room, pressed -by and upon us so that we were worse weary of our lodging than of -our journey." At one o'clock the next day Massasoit "brought two -fishes that he had shot," about thrice as big as a bream. "These -being boiled, there were at least forty looked for a share in them -the most eat of them. This meal only we had in two nights and a -day and had not one of us bought a partridge, we had taken our -journey fasting." Fearing that they would be lightheaded for want -of food and also sleep, owing to "the savages' barbarous singing, -for they use to sing themselves asleep," and that they might get -home while they had strength to travel, they departed. As for -lodging, it is true they were but poorly entertained, though what -they found an inconvenience was no doubt intended for an honor but -as far as eating was concerned, I do not see how the Indians could -have done better. They had nothing to eat themselves, and they were -wiser than to think that apologies could supply the place of food to -their guests so they drew their belts tighter and said nothing -about it. Another time when Winslow visited them, it being a season -of plenty with them, there was no deficiency in this respect. -As for men, they will hardly fail one anywhere. I had more -visitors while I lived in the woods than at any other period in my -life I mean that I had some. I met several there under more -favorable circumstances than I could anywhere else. But fewer came -to see me on trivial business. In this respect, my company was -winnowed by my mere distance from town. I had withdrawn so far -within the great ocean of solitude, into which the rivers of society -empty, that for the most part, so far as my needs were concerned, -only the finest sediment was deposited around me. Beside, there -were wafted to me evidences of unexplored and uncultivated -continents on the other side. -Who should come to my lodge this morning but a true Homeric or -Paphlagonian man he had so suitable and poetic a name that I am -sorry I cannot print it here a Canadian, a woodchopper and -postmaker, who can hole fifty posts in a day, who made his last -supper on a woodchuck which his dog caught. He, too, has heard of -Homer, and, "if it were not for books," would "not know what to do -rainy days," though perhaps he has not read one wholly through for -many rainy seasons. Some priest who could pronounce the Greek -itself taught him to read his verse in the Testament in his native -parish far away and now I must translate to him, while he holds the -book, Achilles' reproof to Patroclus for his sad countenance. -"Why are you in tears, Patroclus, like a young girl?" -"Or have you alone heard some news from Phthia? -They say that Menoetius lives yet, son of Actor, -And Peleus lives, son of AEacus, among the Myrmidons, -Either of whom having died, we should greatly grieve." -He says, "That's good." He has a great bundle of white oak bark -under his arm for a sick man, gathered this Sunday morning. "I -suppose there's no harm in going after such a thing today," says -he. To him Homer was a great writer, though what his writing was -about he did not know. A more simple and natural man it would be -hard to find. Vice and disease, which cast such a sombre moral hue -over the world, seemed to have hardly any existance for him. He was -about twentyeight years old, and had left Canada and his father's -house a dozen years before to work in the States, and earn money to -buy a farm with at last, perhaps in his native country. He was cast -in the coarsest mould a stout but sluggish body, yet gracefully -carried, with a thick sunburnt neck, dark bushy hair, and dull -sleepy blue eyes, which were occasionally lit up with expression. -He wore a flat gray cloth cap, a dingy woolcolored greatcoat, and -cowhide boots. He was a great consumer of meat, usually carrying -his dinner to his work a couple of miles past my house for he -chopped all summer in a tin pail cold meats, often cold -woodchucks, and coffee in a stone bottle which dangled by a string -from his belt and sometimes he offered me a drink. He came along -early, crossing my beanfield, though without anxiety or haste to -get to his work, such as Yankees exhibit. He wasn't agoing to hurt -himself. He didn't care if he only earned his board. Frequently he -would leave his dinner in the bushes, when his dog had caught a -woodchuck by the way, and go back a mile and a half to dress it and -leave it in the cellar of the house where he boarded, after -deliberating first for half an hour whether he could not sink it in -the pond safely till nightfall loving to dwell long upon these -themes. He would say, as he went by in the morning, "How thick the -pigeons are If working every day were not my trade, I could get -all the meat I should want by huntingpigeons, woodchucks, rabbits, -partridges by gosh I could get all I should want for a week in -one day." -He was a skilful chopper, and indulged in some flourishes and -ornaments in his art. He cut his trees level and close to the -ground, that the sprouts which came up afterward might be more -vigorous and a sled might slide over the stumps and instead of -leaving a whole tree to support his corded wood, he would pare it -away to a slender stake or splinter which you could break off with -your hand at last. -He interested me because he was so quiet and solitary and so -happy withal a well of good humor and contentment which overflowed -at his eyes. His mirth was without alloy. Sometimes I saw him at -his work in the woods, felling trees, and he would greet me with a -laugh of inexpressible satisfaction, and a salutation in Canadian -French, though he spoke English as well. When I approached him he -would suspend his work, and with halfsuppressed mirth lie along the -trunk of a pine which he had felled, and, peeling off the inner -bark, roll it up into a ball and chew it while he laughed and -talked. Such an exuberance of animal spirits had he that he -sometimes tumbled down and rolled on the ground with laughter at -anything which made him think and tickled him. Looking round upon -the trees he would exclaim "By George I can enjoy myself well -enough here chopping I want no better sport." Sometimes, when at -leisure, he amused himself all day in the woods with a pocket -pistol, firing salutes to himself at regular intervals as he walked. -In the winter he had a fire by which at noon he warmed his coffee in -a kettle and as he sat on a log to eat his dinner the chickadees -would sometimes come round and alight on his arm and peck at the -potato in his fingers and he said that he "liked to have the little -fellers about him." -In him the animal man chiefly was developed. In physical -endurance and contentment he was cousin to the pine and the rock. I -asked him once if he was not sometimes tired at night, after working -all day and he answered, with a sincere and serious look, -"Gorrappit, I never was tired in my life." But the intellectual and -what is called spiritual man in him were slumbering as in an infant. -He had been instructed only in that innocent and ineffectual way in -which the Catholic priests teach the aborigines, by which the pupil -is never educated to the degree of consciousness, but only to the -degree of trust and reverence, and a child is not made a man, but -kept a child. When Nature made him, she gave him a strong body and -contentment for his portion, and propped him on every side with -reverence and reliance, that he might live out his threescore years -and ten a child. He was so genuine and unsophisticated that no -introduction would serve to introduce him, more than if you -introduced a woodchuck to your neighbor. He had got to find him out -as you did. He would not play any part. Men paid him wages for -work, and so helped to feed and clothe him but he never exchanged -opinions with them. He was so simply and naturally humble if he -can be called humble who never aspires that humility was no -distinct quality in him, nor could he conceive of it. Wiser men -were demigods to him. If you told him that such a one was coming, -he did as if he thought that anything so grand would expect nothing -of himself, but take all the responsibility on itself, and let him -be forgotten still. He never heard the sound of praise. He -particularly reverenced the writer and the preacher. Their -performances were miracles. When I told him that I wrote -considerably, he thought for a long time that it was merely the -handwriting which I meant, for he could write a remarkably good hand -himself. I sometimes found the name of his native parish handsomely -written in the snow by the highway, with the proper French accent, -and knew that he had passed. I asked him if he ever wished to write -his thoughts. He said that he had read and written letters for -those who could not, but he never tried to write thoughts no, he -could not, he could not tell what to put first, it would kill him, -and then there was spelling to be attended to at the same time -I heard that a distinguished wise man and reformer asked him if -he did not want the world to be changed but he answered with a -chuckle of surprise in his Canadian accent, not knowing that the -question had ever been entertained before, "No, I like it well -enough." It would have suggested many things to a philosopher to -have dealings with him. To a stranger he appeared to know nothing -of things in general yet I sometimes saw in him a man whom I had -not seen before, and I did not know whether he was as wise as -Shakespeare or as simply ignorant as a child, whether to suspect him -of a fine poetic consciousness or of stupidity. A townsman told me -that when he met him sauntering through the village in his small -closefitting cap, and whistling to himself, he reminded him of a -prince in disguise. -His only books were an almanac and an arithmetic, in which last -he was considerably expert. The former was a sort of cyclopaedia to -him, which he supposed to contain an abstract of human knowledge, as -indeed it does to a considerable extent. I loved to sound him on -the various reforms of the day, and he never failed to look at them -in the most simple and practical light. He had never heard of such -things before. Could he do without factories? I asked. He had -worn the homemade Vermont gray, he said, and that was good. Could -he dispense with tea and coffee? Did this country afford any -beverage beside water? He had soaked hemlock leaves in water and -drank it, and thought that was better than water in warm weather. -When I asked him if he could do without money, he showed the -convenience of money in such a way as to suggest and coincide with -the most philosophical accounts of the origin of this institution, -and the very derivation of the word pecunia. If an ox were his -property, and he wished to get needles and thread at the store, he -thought it would be inconvenient and impossible soon to go on -mortgaging some portion of the creature each time to that amount. -He could defend many institutions better than any philosopher, -because, in describing them as they concerned him, he gave the true -reason for their prevalence, and speculation had not suggested to -him any other. At another time, hearing Plato's definition of a man -a biped without feathers and that one exhibited a cock plucked -and called it Plato's man, he thought it an important difference -that the knees bent the wrong way. He would sometimes exclaim, "How -I love to talk By George, I could talk all day" I asked him -once, when I had not seen him for many months, if he had got a new -idea this summer. "Good Lord" said he, "a man that has to work -as I do, if he does not forget the ideas he has had, he will do -well. May be the man you hoe with is inclined to race then, by -gorry, your mind must be there you think of weeds." He would -sometimes ask me first on such occasions, if I had made any -improvement. One winter day I asked him if he was always satisfied -with himself, wishing to suggest a substitute within him for the -priest without, and some higher motive for living. "Satisfied" -said he "some men are satisfied with one thing, and some with -another. One man, perhaps, if he has got enough, will be satisfied -to sit all day with his back to the fire and his belly to the table, -by George" Yet I never, by any manoeuvring, could get him to take -the spiritual view of things the highest that he appeared to -conceive of was a simple expediency, such as you might expect an -animal to appreciate and this, practically, is true of most men. -If I suggested any improvement in his mode of life, he merely -answered, without expressing any regret, that it was too late. Yet -he thoroughly believed in honesty and the like virtues. -There was a certain positive originality, however slight, to be -detected in him, and I occasionally observed that he was thinking -for himself and expressing his own opinion, a phenomenon so rare -that I would any day walk ten miles to observe it, and it amounted -to the reorigination of many of the institutions of society. -Though he hesitated, and perhaps failed to express himself -distinctly, he always had a presentable thought behind. Yet his -thinking was so primitive and immersed in his animal life, that, -though more promising than a merely learned man's, it rarely ripened -to anything which can be reported. He suggested that there might be -men of genius in the lowest grades of life, however permanently -humble and illiterate, who take their own view always, or do not -pretend to see at all who are as bottomless even as Walden Pond was -thought to be, though they may be dark and muddy. -Many a traveller came out of his way to see me and the inside of -my house, and, as an excuse for calling, asked for a glass of water. -I told them that I drank at the pond, and pointed thither, offering -to lend them a dipper. Far off as I lived, I was not exempted from -the annual visitation which occurs, methinks, about the first of -April, when everybody is on the move and I had my share of good -luck, though there were some curious specimens among my visitors. -Halfwitted men from the almshouse and elsewhere came to see me but -I endeavored to make them exercise all the wit they had, and make -their confessions to me in such cases making wit the theme of our -conversation and so was compensated. Indeed, I found some of them -to be wiser than the socalled overseers of the poor and selectmen -of the town, and thought it was time that the tables were turned. -With respect to wit, I learned that there was not much difference -between the half and the whole. One day, in particular, an -inoffensive, simpleminded pauper, whom with others I had often seen -used as fencing stuff, standing or sitting on a bushel in the fields -to keep cattle and himself from straying, visited me, and expressed -a wish to live as I did. He told me, with the utmost simplicity and -truth, quite superior, or rather inferior, to anything that is -called humility, that he was "deficient in intellect." These were -his words. The Lord had made him so, yet he supposed the Lord cared -as much for him as for another. "I have always been so," said he, -"from my childhood I never had much mind I was not like other -children I am weak in the head. It was the Lord's will, I -suppose." And there he was to prove the truth of his words. He was -a metaphysical puzzle to me. I have rarely met a fellowman on such -promising ground it was so simple and sincere and so true all -that he said. And, true enough, in proportion as he appeared to -humble himself was he exalted. I did not know at first but it was -the result of a wise policy. It seemed that from such a basis of -truth and frankness as the poor weakheaded pauper had laid, our -intercourse might go forward to something better than the -intercourse of sages. -I had some guests from those not reckoned commonly among the -town's poor, but who should be who are among the world's poor, at -any rate guests who appeal, not to your hospitality, but to your -hospitalality who earnestly wish to be helped, and preface their -appeal with the information that they are resolved, for one thing, -never to help themselves. I require of a visitor that he be not -actually starving, though he may have the very best appetite in the -world, however he got it. Objects of charity are not guests. Men -who did not know when their visit had terminated, though I went -about my business again, answering them from greater and greater -remoteness. Men of almost every degree of wit called on me in the -migrating season. Some who had more wits than they knew what to do -with runaway slaves with plantation manners, who listened from time -to time, like the fox in the fable, as if they heard the hounds -abaying on their track, and looked at me beseechingly, as much as -to say, -"O Christian, will you send me back? -One real runaway slave, among the rest, whom I helped to forward -toward the north star. Men of one idea, like a hen with one -chicken, and that a duckling men of a thousand ideas, and unkempt -heads, like those hens which are made to take charge of a hundred -chickens, all in pursuit of one bug, a score of them lost in every -morning's dew and become frizzled and mangy in consequence men -of ideas instead of legs, a sort of intellectual centipede that made -you crawl all over. One man proposed a book in which visitors -should write their names, as at the White Mountains but, alas I -have too good a memory to make that necessary. -I could not but notice some of the peculiarities of my visitors. -Girls and boys and young women generally seemed glad to be in the -woods. They looked in the pond and at the flowers, and improved -their time. Men of business, even farmers, thought only of solitude -and employment, and of the great distance at which I dwelt from -something or other and though they said that they loved a ramble in -the woods occasionally, it was obvious that they did not. Restless -committed men, whose time was an taken up in getting a living or -keeping it ministers who spoke of God as if they enjoyed a monopoly -of the subject, who could not bear all kinds of opinions doctors, -lawyers, uneasy housekeepers who pried into my cupboard and bed when -I was out how came Mrs. to know that my sheets were not as -clean as hers? young men who had ceased to be young, and had -concluded that it was safest to follow the beaten track of the -professions all these generally said that it was not possible to -do so much good in my position. Ay there was the rub. The old and -infirm and the timid, of whatever age or sex, thought most of -sickness, and sudden accident and death to them life seemed full of -danger what danger is there if you don't think of any? and -they thought that a prudent man would carefully select the safest -position, where Dr. B. might be on hand at a moment's warning. To -them the village was literally a community, a league for mutual -defence, and you would suppose that they would not go -ahuckleberrying without a medicine chest. The amount of it is, if -a man is alive, there is always danger that he may die, though the -danger must be allowed to be less in proportion as he is -deadandalive to begin with. A man sits as many risks as he runs. -Finally, there were the selfstyled reformers, the greatest bores of -all, who thought that I was forever singing, -This is the house that I built -This is the man that lives in the house that I built -but they did not know that the third line was, -These are the folks that worry the man -That lives in the house that I built. -I did not fear the henharriers, for I kept no chickens but I -feared the menharriers rather. -I had more cheering visitors than the last. Children come -aberrying, railroad men taking a Sunday morning walk in clean -shirts, fishermen and hunters, poets and philosophers in short, all -honest pilgrims, who came out to the woods for freedom's sake, and -really left the village behind, I was ready to greet with -"Welcome, Englishmen welcome, Englishmen" for I had had -communication with that race. -The BeanField -Meanwhile my beans, the length of whose rows, added together, -was seven miles already planted, were impatient to be hoed, for the -earliest had grown considerably before the latest were in the -ground indeed they were not easily to be put off. What was the -meaning of this so steady and selfrespecting, this small Herculean -labor, I knew not. I came to love my rows, my beans, though so many -more than I wanted. They attached me to the earth, and so I got -strength like Antaeus. But why should I raise them? Only Heaven -knows. This was my curious labor all summer to make this portion -of the earth's surface, which had yielded only cinquefoil, -blackberries, johnswort, and the like, before, sweet wild fruits and -pleasant flowers, produce instead this pulse. What shall I learn of -beans or beans of me? I cherish them, I hoe them, early and late I -have an eye to them and this is my day's work. It is a fine broad -leaf to look on. My auxiliaries are the dews and rains which water -this dry soil, and what fertility is in the soil itself, which for -the most part is lean and effete. My enemies are worms, cool days, -and most of all woodchucks. The last have nibbled for me a quarter -of an acre clean. But what right had I to oust johnswort and the -rest, and break up their ancient herb garden? Soon, however, the -remaining beans will be too tough for them, and go forward to meet -new foes. -When I was four years old, as I well remember, I was brought -from Boston to this my native town, through these very woods and -this field, to the pond. It is one of the oldest scenes stamped on -my memory. And now tonight my flute has waked the echoes over that -very water. The pines still stand here older than I or, if some -have fallen, I have cooked my supper with their stumps, and a new -growth is rising all around, preparing another aspect for new infant -eyes. Almost the same johnswort springs from the same perennial -root in this pasture, and even I have at length helped to clothe -that fabulous landscape of my infant dreams, and one of the results -of my presence and influence is seen in these bean leaves, corn -blades, and potato vines. -I planted about two acres and a half of upland and as it was -only about fifteen years since the land was cleared, and I myself -had got out two or three cords of stumps, I did not give it any -manure but in the course of the summer it appeared by the -arrowheads which I turned up in hoeing, that an extinct nation had -anciently dwelt here and planted corn and beans ere white men came -to clear the land, and so, to some extent, had exhausted the soil -for this very crop. -Before yet any woodchuck or squirrel had run across the road, or -the sun had got above the shrub oaks, while all the dew was on, -though the farmers warned me against it I would advise you to do -all your work if possible while the dew is on I began to level -the ranks of haughty weeds in my beanfield and throw dust upon -their heads. Early in the morning I worked barefooted, dabbling -like a plastic artist in the dewy and crumbling sand, but later in -the day the sun blistered my feet. There the sun lighted me to hoe -beans, pacing slowly backward and forward over that yellow gravelly -upland, between the long green rows, fifteen rods, the one end -terminating in a shrub oak copse where I could rest in the shade, -the other in a blackberry field where the green berries deepened -their tints by the time I had made another bout. Removing the -weeds, putting fresh soil about the bean stems, and encouraging this -weed which I had sown, making the yellow soil express its summer -thought in bean leaves and blossoms rather than in wormwood and -piper and millet grass, making the earth say beans instead of grass -this was my daily work. As I had little aid from horses or -cattle, or hired men or boys, or improved implements of husbandry, I -was much slower, and became much more intimate with my beans than -usual. But labor of the hands, even when pursued to the verge of -drudgery, is perhaps never the worst form of idleness. It has a -constant and imperishable moral, and to the scholar it yields a -classic result. A very agricola laboriosus was I to travellers -bound westward through Lincoln and Wayland to nobody knows where -they sitting at their ease in gigs, with elbows on knees, and reins -loosely hanging in festoons I the homestaying, laborious native of -the soil. But soon my homestead was out of their sight and thought. -It was the only open and cultivated field for a great distance on -either side of the road, so they made the most of it and sometimes -the man in the field heard more of travellers' gossip and comment -than was meant for his ear "Beans so late peas so late" for I -continued to plant when others had begun to hoe the ministerial -husbandman had not suspected it. "Corn, my boy, for fodder corn -for fodder." "Does he live there?" asks the black bonnet of the -gray coat and the hardfeatured farmer reins up his grateful dobbin -to inquire what you are doing where he sees no manure in the furrow, -and recommends a little chip dirt, or any little waste stuff, or it -may be ashes or plaster. But here were two acres and a half of -furrows, and only a hoe for cart and two hands to draw it there -being an aversion to other carts and horses and chip dirt far -away. Fellowtravellers as they rattled by compared it aloud with -the fields which they had passed, so that I came to know how I stood -in the agricultural world. This was one field not in Mr. Coleman's -report. And, by the way, who estimates the value of the crop which -nature yields in the still wilder fields unimproved by man? The -crop of English hay is carefully weighed, the moisture calculated, -the silicates and the potash but in all dells and pondholes in the -woods and pastures and swamps grows a rich and various crop only -unreaped by man. Mine was, as it were, the connecting link between -wild and cultivated fields as some states are civilized, and others -halfcivilized, and others savage or barbarous, so my field was, -though not in a bad sense, a halfcultivated field. They were beans -cheerfully returning to their wild and primitive state that I -cultivated, and my hoe played the Rans des Vaches for them. -Near at hand, upon the topmost spray of a birch, sings the brown -thrasher or red mavis, as some love to call him all the -morning, glad of your society, that would find out another farmer's -field if yours were not here. While you are planting the seed, he -cries "Drop it, drop it cover it up, cover it up pull it -up, pull it up, pull it up." But this was not corn, and so it was -safe from such enemies as he. You may wonder what his rigmarole, -his amateur Paganini performances on one string or on twenty, have -to do with your planting, and yet prefer it to leached ashes or -plaster. It was a cheap sort of top dressing in which I had entire -faith. -As I drew a still fresher soil about the rows with my hoe, I -disturbed the ashes of unchronicled nations who in primeval years -lived under these heavens, and their small implements of war and -hunting were brought to the light of this modern day. They lay -mingled with other natural stones, some of which bore the marks of -having been burned by Indian fires, and some by the sun, and also -bits of pottery and glass brought hither by the recent cultivators -of the soil. When my hoe tinkled against the stones, that music -echoed to the woods and the sky, and was an accompaniment to my -labor which yielded an instant and immeasurable crop. It was no -longer beans that I hoed, nor I that hoed beans and I remembered -with as much pity as pride, if I remembered at all, my acquaintances -who had gone to the city to attend the oratorios. The nighthawk -circled overhead in the sunny afternoons for I sometimes made a -day of it like a mote in the eye, or in heaven's eye, falling -from time to time with a swoop and a sound as if the heavens were -rent, torn at last to very rags and tatters, and yet a seamless cope -remained small imps that fill the air and lay their eggs on the -ground on bare sand or rocks on the tops of hills, where few have -found them graceful and slender like ripples caught up from the -pond, as leaves are raised by the wind to float in the heavens such -kindredship is in nature. The hawk is aerial brother of the wave -which he sails over and surveys, those his perfect airinflated -wings answering to the elemental unfledged pinions of the sea. Or -sometimes I watched a pair of henhawks circling high in the sky, -alternately soaring and descending, approaching, and leaving one -another, as if they were the embodiment of my own thoughts. Or I -was attracted by the passage of wild pigeons from this wood to that, -with a slight quivering winnowing sound and carrier haste or from -under a rotten stump my hoe turned up a sluggish portentous and -outlandish spotted salamander, a trace of Egypt and the Nile, yet -our contemporary. When I paused to lean on my hoe, these sounds and -sights I heard and saw anywhere in the row, a part of the -inexhaustible entertainment which the country offers. -On gala days the town fires its great guns, which echo like -popguns to these woods, and some waifs of martial music occasionally -penetrate thus far. To me, away there in my beanfield at the other -end of the town, the big guns sounded as if a puffball had burst -and when there was a military turnout of which I was ignorant, I -have sometimes had a vague sense all the day of some sort of itching -and disease in the horizon, as if some eruption would break out -there soon, either scarlatina or cankerrash, until at length some -more favorable puff of wind, making haste over the fields and up the -Wayland road, brought me information of the "trainers." It seemed -by the distant hum as if somebody's bees had swarmed, and that the -neighbors, according to Virgil's advice, by a faint tintinnabulum -upon the most sonorous of their domestic utensils, were endeavoring -to call them down into the hive again. And when the sound died -quite away, and the hum had ceased, and the most favorable breezes -told no tale, I knew that they had got the last drone of them all -safely into the Middlesex hive, and that now their minds were bent -on the honey with which it was smeared. -I felt proud to know that the liberties of Massachusetts and of -our fatherland were in such safe keeping and as I turned to my -hoeing again I was filled with an inexpressible confidence, and -pursued my labor cheerfully with a calm trust in the future. -When there were several bands of musicians, it sounded as if all -the village was a vast bellows and all the buildings expanded and -collapsed alternately with a din. But sometimes it was a really -noble and inspiring strain that reached these woods, and the trumpet -that sings of fame, and I felt as if I could spit a Mexican with a -good relish for why should we always stand for trifles? and -looked round for a woodchuck or a skunk to exercise my chivalry -upon. These martial strains seemed as far away as Palestine, and -reminded me of a march of crusaders in the horizon, with a slight -tantivy and tremulous motion of the elm tree tops which overhang the -village. This was one of the great days though the sky had from my -clearing only the same everlastingly great look that it wears daily, -and I saw no difference in it. -It was a singular experience that long acquaintance which I -cultivated with beans, what with planting, and hoeing, and -harvesting, and threshing, and picking over and selling them the -last was the hardest of all I might add eating, for I did taste. -I was determined to know beans. When they were growing, I used to -hoe from five o'clock in the morning till noon, and commonly spent -the rest of the day about other affairs. Consider the intimate and -curious acquaintance one makes with various kinds of weeds it -will bear some iteration in the account, for there was no little -iteration in the labor disturbing their delicate organizations so -ruthlessly, and making such invidious distinctions with his hoe, -levelling whole ranks of one species, and sedulously cultivating -another. That's Roman wormwood that's pigweed that's sorrel -that's pipergrass have at him, chop him up, turn his roots -upward to the sun, don't let him have a fibre in the shade, if you -do he'll turn himself t' other side up and be as green as a leek in -two days. A long war, not with cranes, but with weeds, those -Trojans who had sun and rain and dews on their side. Daily the -beans saw me come to their rescue armed with a hoe, and thin the -ranks of their enemies, filling up the trenches with weedy dead. -Many a lusty crest waving Hector, that towered a whole foot above -his crowding comrades, fell before my weapon and rolled in the dust. -Those summer days which some of my contemporaries devoted to the -fine arts in Boston or Rome, and others to contemplation in India, -and others to trade in London or New York, I thus, with the other -farmers of New England, devoted to husbandry. Not that I wanted -beans to eat, for I am by nature a Pythagorean, so far as beans are -concerned, whether they mean porridge or voting, and exchanged them -for rice but, perchance, as some must work in fields if only for -the sake of tropes and expression, to serve a parablemaker one day. -It was on the whole a rare amusement, which, continued too long, -might have become a dissipation. Though I gave them no manure, and -did not hoe them all once, I hoed them unusualy well as far as I -went, and was paid for it in the end, "there being in truth," as -Evelyn says, "no compost or laetation whatsoever comparable to this -continual motion, repastination, and turning of the mould with the -spade." "The earth," he adds elsewhere, "especially if fresh, has a -certain magnetism in it, by which it attracts the salt, power, or -virtue call it either which gives it life, and is the logic of all -the labor and stir we keep about it, to sustain us all dungings and -other sordid temperings being but the vicars succedaneous to this -improvement." Moreover, this being one of those "wornout and -exhausted lay fields which enjoy their sabbath," had perchance, as -Sir Kenelm Digby thinks likely, attracted "vital spirits" from the -air. I harvested twelve bushels of beans. -But to be more particular, for it is complained that Mr. Coleman -has reported chiefly the expensive experiments of gentlemen farmers, -my outgoes were, -For a hoe ................................... . -Plowing, harrowing, and furrowing ............ . Too much. -Beans for seed ............................... . -Potatoes for seed ............................ . -Peas for seed ................................ . -Turnip seed .................................. . -White line for crow fence .................... . -Horse cultivator and boy three hours ......... . -Horse and cart to get crop ................... . -In all .................................. . -My income was patrem familias vendacem, non emacem esse -oportet, from -Nine bushels and twelve quarts of beans sold .. . -Five " large potatoes ..................... . -Nine " small .............................. . -Grass ........................................... . -Stalks .......................................... . -In all .................................... . -Leaving a pecuniary profit, -as I have elsewhere said, of .............. . -This is the result of my experience in raising beans Plant the -common small white bush bean about the first of June, in rows three -feet by eighteen inches apart, being careful to select fresh round -and unmixed seed. First look out for worms, and supply vacancies by -planting anew. Then look out for woodchucks, if it is an exposed -place, for they will nibble off the earliest tender leaves almost -clean as they go and again, when the young tendrils make their -appearance, they have notice of it, and will shear them off with -both buds and young pods, sitting erect like a squirrel. But above -all harvest as early as possible, if you would escape frosts and -have a fair and salable crop you may save much loss by this means. -This further experience also I gained I said to myself, I will -not plant beans and corn with so much industry another summer, but -such seeds, if the seed is not lost, as sincerity, truth, -simplicity, faith, innocence, and the like, and see if they will not -grow in this soil, even with less toil and manurance, and sustain -me, for surely it has not been exhausted for these crops. Alas I -said this to myself but now another summer is gone, and another, -and another, and I am obliged to say to you, Reader, that the seeds -which I planted, if indeed they were the seeds of those virtues, -were wormeaten or had lost their vitality, and so did not come up. -Commonly men will only be brave as their fathers were brave, or -timid. This generation is very sure to plant corn and beans each -new year precisely as the Indians did centuries ago and taught the -first settlers to do, as if there were a fate in it. I saw an old -man the other day, to my astonishment, making the holes with a hoe -for the seventieth time at least, and not for himself to lie down -in But why should not the New Englander try new adventures, and -not lay so much stress on his grain, his potato and grass crop, and -his orchards raise other crops than these? Why concern ourselves -so much about our beans for seed, and not be concerned at all about -a new generation of men? We should really be fed and cheered if -when we met a man we were sure to see that some of the qualities -which I have named, which we all prize more than those other -productions, but which are for the most part broadcast and floating -in the air, had taken root and grown in him. Here comes such a -subtile and ineffable quality, for instance, as truth or justice, -though the slightest amount or new variety of it, along the road. -Our ambassadors should be instructed to send home such seeds as -these, and Congress help to distribute them over all the land. We -should never stand upon ceremony with sincerity. We should never -cheat and insult and banish one another by our meanness, if there -were present the kernel of worth and friendliness. We should not -meet thus in haste. Most men I do not meet at all, for they seem -not to have time they are busy about their beans. We would not -deal with a man thus plodding ever, leaning on a hoe or a spade as a -staff between his work, not as a mushroom, but partially risen out -of the earth, something more than erect, like swallows alighted and -walking on the ground -"And as he spake, his wings would now and then -Spread, as he meant to fly, then close again " -so that we should suspect that we might be conversing with an angel. -Bread may not always nourish us but it always does us good, it even -takes stiffness out of our joints, and makes us supple and buoyant, -when we knew not what ailed us, to recognize any generosity in man -or Nature, to share any unmixed and heroic joy. -Ancient poetry and mythology suggest, at least, that husbandry -was once a sacred art but it is pursued with irreverent haste and -heedlessness by us, our object being to have large farms and large -crops merely. We have no festival, nor procession, nor ceremony, -not excepting our cattleshows and socalled Thanksgivings, by which -the farmer expresses a sense of the sacredness of his calling, or is -reminded of its sacred origin. It is the premium and the feast -which tempt him. He sacrifices not to Ceres and the Terrestrial -Jove, but to the infernal Plutus rather. By avarice and -selfishness, and a grovelling habit, from which none of us is free, -of regarding the soil as property, or the means of acquiring -property chiefly, the landscape is deformed, husbandry is degraded -with us, and the farmer leads the meanest of lives. He knows Nature -but as a robber. Cato says that the profits of agriculture are -particularly pious or just maximeque pius quaestus, and according -to Varro the old Romans "called the same earth Mother and Ceres, and -thought that they who cultivated it led a pious and useful life, and -that they alone were left of the race of King Saturn." -We are wont to forget that the sun looks on our cultivated -fields and on the prairies and forests without distinction. They -all reflect and absorb his rays alike, and the former make but a -small part of the glorious picture which he beholds in his daily -course. In his view the earth is all equally cultivated like a -garden. Therefore we should receive the benefit of his light and -heat with a corresponding trust and magnanimity. What though I -value the seed of these beans, and harvest that in the fall of the -year? This broad field which I have looked at so long looks not to -me as the principal cultivator, but away from me to influences more -genial to it, which water and make it green. These beans have -results which are not harvested by me. Do they not grow for -woodchucks partly? The ear of wheat in Latin spica, obsoletely -speca, from spe, hope should not be the only hope of the -husbandman its kernel or grain granum from gerendo, bearing is -not all that it bears. How, then, can our harvest fail? Shall I -not rejoice also at the abundance of the weeds whose seeds are the -granary of the birds? It matters little comparatively whether the -fields fill the farmer's barns. The true husbandman will cease from -anxiety, as the squirrels manifest no concern whether the woods will -bear chestnuts this year or not, and finish his labor with every -day, relinquishing all claim to the produce of his fields, and -sacrificing in his mind not only his first but his last fruits also. -The Village -After hoeing, or perhaps reading and writing, in the forenoon, I -usually bathed again in the pond, swimming across one of its coves -for a stint, and washed the dust of labor from my person, or -smoothed out the last wrinkle which study had made, and for the -afternoon was absolutely free. Every day or two I strolled to the -village to hear some of the gossip which is incessantly going on -there, circulating either from mouth to mouth, or from newspaper to -newspaper, and which, taken in homoeopathic doses, was really as -refreshing in its way as the rustle of leaves and the peeping of -frogs. As I walked in the woods to see the birds and squirrels, so -I walked in the village to see the men and boys instead of the wind -among the pines I heard the carts rattle. In one direction from my -house there was a colony of muskrats in the river meadows under the -grove of elms and buttonwoods in the other horizon was a village of -busy men, as curious to me as if they had been prairiedogs, each -sitting at the mouth of its burrow, or running over to a neighbor's -to gossip. I went there frequently to observe their habits. The -village appeared to me a great news room and on one side, to -support it, as once at Redding Company's on State Street, they -kept nuts and raisins, or salt and meal and other groceries. Some -have such a vast appetite for the former commodity, that is, the -news, and such sound digestive organs, that they can sit forever in -public avenues without stirring, and let it simmer and whisper -through them like the Etesian winds, or as if inhaling ether, it -only producing numbness and insensibility to pain otherwise it -would often be painful to bear without affecting the -consciousness. I hardly ever failed, when I rambled through the -village, to see a row of such worthies, either sitting on a ladder -sunning themselves, with their bodies inclined forward and their -eyes glancing along the line this way and that, from time to time, -with a voluptuous expression, or else leaning against a barn with -their hands in their pockets, like caryatides, as if to prop it up. -They, being commonly out of doors, heard whatever was in the wind. -These are the coarsest mills, in which all gossip is first rudely -digested or cracked up before it is emptied into finer and more -delicate hoppers within doors. I observed that the vitals of the -village were the grocery, the barroom, the postoffice, and the -bank and, as a necessary part of the machinery, they kept a bell, a -big gun, and a fireengine, at convenient places and the houses -were so arranged as to make the most of mankind, in lanes and -fronting one another, so that every traveller had to run the -gauntlet, and every man, woman, and child might get a lick at him. -Of course, those who were stationed nearest to the head of the line, -where they could most see and be seen, and have the first blow at -him, paid the highest prices for their places and the few -straggling inhabitants in the outskirts, where long gaps in the line -began to occur, and the traveller could get over walls or turn aside -into cowpaths, and so escape, paid a very slight ground or window -tax. Signs were hung out on all sides to allure him some to catch -him by the appetite, as the tavern and victualling cellar some by -the fancy, as the dry goods store and the jeweller's and others by -the hair or the feet or the skirts, as the barber, the shoemaker, -or the tailor. Besides, there was a still more terrible standing -invitation to call at every one of these houses, and company -expected about these times. For the most part I escaped wonderfully -from these dangers, either by proceeding at once boldly and without -deliberation to the goal, as is recommended to those who run the -gauntlet, or by keeping my thoughts on high things, like Orpheus, -who, "loudly singing the praises of the gods to his lyre, drowned -the voices of the Sirens, and kept out of danger." Sometimes I -bolted suddenly, and nobody could tell my whereabouts, for I did not -stand much about gracefulness, and never hesitated at a gap in a -fence. I was even accustomed to make an irruption into some houses, -where I was well entertained, and after learning the kernels and -very last sieveful of news what had subsided, the prospects of -war and peace, and whether the world was likely to hold together -much longer I was let out through the rear avenues, and so -escaped to the woods again. -It was very pleasant, when I stayed late in town, to launch -myself into the night, especially if it was dark and tempestuous, -and set sail from some bright village parlor or lecture room, with a -bag of rye or Indian meal upon my shoulder, for my snug harbor in -the woods, having made all tight without and withdrawn under hatches -with a merry crew of thoughts, leaving only my outer man at the -helm, or even tying up the helm when it was plain sailing. I had -many a genial thought by the cabin fire "as I sailed." I was never -cast away nor distressed in any weather, though I encountered some -severe storms. It is darker in the woods, even in common nights, -than most suppose. I frequently had to look up at the opening -between the trees above the path in order to learn my route, and, -where there was no cartpath, to feel with my feet the faint track -which I had worn, or steer by the known relation of particular trees -which I felt with my hands, passing between two pines for instance, -not more than eighteen inches apart, in the midst of the woods, -invariably, in the darkest night. Sometimes, after coming home thus -late in a dark and muggy night, when my feet felt the path which my -eyes could not see, dreaming and absentminded all the way, until I -was aroused by having to raise my hand to lift the latch, I have not -been able to recall a single step of my walk, and I have thought -that perhaps my body would find its way home if its master should -forsake it, as the hand finds its way to the mouth without -assistance. Several times, when a visitor chanced to stay into -evening, and it proved a dark night, I was obliged to conduct him to -the cartpath in the rear of the house, and then point out to him -the direction he was to pursue, and in keeping which he was to be -guided rather by his feet than his eyes. One very dark night I -directed thus on their way two young men who had been fishing in the -pond. They lived about a mile off through the woods, and were quite -used to the route. A day or two after one of them told me that they -wandered about the greater part of the night, close by their own -premises, and did not get home till toward morning, by which time, -as there had been several heavy showers in the meanwhile, and the -leaves were very wet, they were drenched to their skins. I have -heard of many going astray even in the village streets, when the -darkness was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, as the -saying is. Some who live in the outskirts, having come to town -ashopping in their wagons, have been obliged to put up for the -night and gentlemen and ladies making a call have gone half a mile -out of their way, feeling the sidewalk only with their feet, and not -knowing when they turned. It is a surprising and memorable, as well -as valuable experience, to be lost in the woods any time. Often in -a snowstorm, even by day, one will come out upon a wellknown road -and yet find it impossible to tell which way leads to the village. -Though he knows that he has travelled it a thousand times, he cannot -recognize a feature in it, but it is as strange to him as if it were -a road in Siberia. By night, of course, the perplexity is -infinitely greater. In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, -though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain wellknown -beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course we still -carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape and not -till we are completely lost, or turned round for a man needs only -to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost -do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of nature. Every -man has to learn the points of compass again as often as be awakes, -whether from sleep or any abstraction. Not till we are lost, in -other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find -ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our -relations. -One afternoon, near the end of the first summer, when I went to -the village to get a shoe from the cobbler's, I was seized and put -into jail, because, as I have elsewhere related, I did not pay a tax -to, or recognize the authority of, the State which buys and sells -men, women, and children, like cattle, at the door of its -senatehouse. I had gone down to the woods for other purposes. -But, wherever a man goes, men will pursue and paw him with their -dirty institutions, and, if they can, constrain him to belong to -their desperate oddfellow society. It is true, I might have -resisted forcibly with more or less effect, might have run "amok" -against society but I preferred that society should run "amok" -against me, it being the desperate party. However, I was released -the next day, obtained my mended shoe, and returned to the woods in -season to get my dinner of huckleberries on Fair Haven Hill. I was -never molested by any person but those who represented the State. I -had no lock nor bolt but for the desk which held my papers, not even -a nail to put over my latch or windows. I never fastened my door -night or day, though I was to be absent several days not even when -the next fall I spent a fortnight in the woods of Maine. And yet my -house was more respected than if it had been surrounded by a file of -soldiers. The tired rambler could rest and warm himself by my fire, -the literary amuse himself with the few books on my table, or the -curious, by opening my closet door, see what was left of my dinner, -and what prospect I had of a supper. Yet, though many people of -every class came this way to the pond, I suffered no serious -inconvenience from these sources, and I never missed anything but -one small book, a volume of Homer, which perhaps was improperly -gilded, and this I trust a soldier of our camp has found by this -time. I am convinced, that if all men were to live as simply as I -then did, thieving and robbery would be unknown. These take place -only in communities where some have got more than is sufficient -while others have not enough. The Pope's Homers would soon get -properly distributed. -"Nec bella fuerunt, -Faginus astabat dum scyphus ante dapes." -"Nor wars did men molest, -When only beechen bowls were in request." -"You who govern public affairs, what need have you to employ -punishments? Love virtue, and the people will be virtuous. The -virtues of a superior man are like the wind the virtues of a common -man are like the grass I the grass, when the wind passes over it, -bends." -The Ponds -Sometimes, having had a surfeit of human society and gossip, and -worn out all my village friends, I rambled still farther westward -than I habitually dwell, into yet more unfrequented parts of the -town, "to fresh woods and pastures new," or, while the sun was -setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair -Haven Hill, and laid up a store for several days. The fruits do not -yield their true flavor to the purchaser of them, nor to him who -raises them for the market. There is but one way to obtain it, yet -few take that way. If you would know the flavor of huckleberries, -ask the cowboy or the partridge. It is a vulgar error to suppose -that you have tasted huckleberries who never plucked them. A -huckleberry never reaches Boston they have not been known there -since they grew on her three hills. The ambrosial and essential -part of the fruit is lost with the bloom which is rubbed off in the -market cart, and they become mere provender. As long as Eternal -Justice reigns, not one innocent huckleberry can be transported -thither from the country's hills. -Occasionally, after my hoeing was done for the day, I joined -some impatient companion who had been fishing on the pond since -morning, as silent and motionless as a duck or a floating leaf, and, -after practising various kinds of philosophy, had concluded -commonly, by the time I arrived, that he belonged to the ancient -sect of Coenobites. There was one older man, an excellent fisher -and skilled in all kinds of woodcraft, who was pleased to look upon -my house as a building erected for the convenience of fishermen and -I was equally pleased when he sat in my doorway to arrange his -lines. Once in a while we sat together on the pond, he at one end -of the boat, and I at the other but not many words passed between -us, for he had grown deaf in his later years, but he occasionally -hummed a psalm, which harmonized well enough with my philosophy. -Our intercourse was thus altogether one of unbroken harmony, far -more pleasing to remember than if it had been carried on by speech. -When, as was commonly the case, I had none to commune with, I used -to raise the echoes by striking with a paddle on the side of my -boat, filling the surrounding woods with circling and dilating -sound, stirring them up as the keeper of a menagerie his wild -beasts, until I elicited a growl from every wooded vale and -hillside. -In warm evenings I frequently sat in the boat playing the flute, -and saw the perch, which I seem to have charmed, hovering around me, -and the moon travelling over the ribbed bottom, which was strewed -with the wrecks of the forest. Formerly I had come to this pond -adventurously, from time to time, in dark summer nights, with a -companion, and, making a fire close to the water's edge, which we -thought attracted the fishes, we caught pouts with a bunch of worms -strung on a thread, and when we had done, far in the night, threw -the burning brands high into the air like skyrockets, which, coming -down into the pond, were quenched with a loud hissing, and we were -suddenly groping in total darkness. Through this, whistling a tune, -we took our way to the haunts of men again. But now I had made my -home by the shore. -Sometimes, after staying in a village parlor till the family had -all retired, I have returned to the woods, and, partly with a view -to the next day's dinner, spent the hours of midnight fishing from a -boat by moonlight, serenaded by owls and foxes, and hearing, from -time to time, the creaking note of some unknown bird close at hand. -These experiences were very memorable and valuable to me anchored -in forty feet of water, and twenty or thirty rods from the shore, -surrounded sometimes by thousands of small perch and shiners, -dimpling the surface with their tails in the moonlight, and -communicating by a long flaxen line with mysterious nocturnal fishes -which had their dwelling forty feet below, or sometimes dragging -sixty feet of line about the pond as I drifted in the gentle night -breeze, now and then feeling a slight vibration along it, indicative -of some life prowling about its extremity, of dull uncertain -blundering purpose there, and slow to make up its mind. At length -you slowly raise, pulling hand over hand, some horned pout squeaking -and squirming to the upper air. It was very queer, especially in -dark nights, when your thoughts had wandered to vast and cosmogonal -themes in other spheres, to feel this faint jerk, which came to -interrupt your dreams and link you to Nature again. It seemed as if -I might next cast my line upward into the air, as well as downward -into this element, which was scarcely more dense. Thus I caught two -fishes as it were with one hook. -The scenery of Walden is on a humble scale, and, though very -beautiful, does not approach to grandeur, nor can it much concern -one who has not long frequented it or lived by its shore yet this -pond is so remarkable for its depth and purity as to merit a -particular description. It is a clear and deep green well, half a -mile long and a mile and three quarters in circumference, and -contains about sixtyone and a half acres a perennial spring in the -midst of pine and oak woods, without any visible inlet or outlet -except by the clouds and evaporation. The surrounding hills rise -abruptly from the water to the height of forty to eighty feet, -though on the southeast and east they attain to about one hundred -and one hundred and fifty feet respectively, within a quarter and a -third of a mile. They are exclusively woodland. All our Concord -waters have two colors at least one when viewed at a distance, and -another, more proper, close at hand. The first depends more on the -light, and follows the sky. In clear weather, in summer, they -appear blue at a little distance, especially if agitated, and at a -great distance all appear alike. In stormy weather they are -sometimes of a dark slatecolor. The sea, however, is said to be -blue one day and green another without any perceptible change in the -atmosphere. I have seen our river, when, the landscape being -covered with snow, both water and ice were almost as green as grass. -Some consider blue "to be the color of pure water, whether liquid or -solid." But, looking directly down into our waters from a boat, -they are seen to be of very different colors. Walden is blue at one -time and green at another, even from the same point of view. Lying -between the earth and the heavens, it partakes of the color of both. -Viewed from a hilltop it reflects the color of the sky but near at -hand it is of a yellowish tint next the shore where you can see the -sand, then a light green, which gradually deepens to a uniform dark -green in the body of the pond. In some lights, viewed even from a -hilltop, it is of a vivid green next the shore. Some have referred -this to the reflection of the verdure but it is equally green there -against the railroad sandbank, and in the spring, before the leaves -are expanded, and it may be simply the result of the prevailing blue -mixed with the yellow of the sand. Such is the color of its iris. -This is that portion, also, where in the spring, the ice being -warmed by the heat of the sun reflected from the bottom, and also -transmitted through the earth, melts first and forms a narrow canal -about the still frozen middle. Like the rest of our waters, when -much agitated, in clear weather, so that the surface of the waves -may reflect the sky at the right angle, or because there is more -light mixed with it, it appears at a little distance of a darker -blue than the sky itself and at such a time, being on its surface, -and looking with divided vision, so as to see the reflection, I have -discerned a matchless and indescribable light blue, such as watered -or changeable silks and sword blades suggest, more cerulean than the -sky itself, alternating with the original dark green on the opposite -sides of the waves, which last appeared but muddy in comparison. It -is a vitreous greenish blue, as I remember it, like those patches of -the winter sky seen through cloud vistas in the west before sundown. -Yet a single glass of its water held up to the light is as colorless -as an equal quantity of air. It is well known that a large plate of -glass will have a green tint, owing, as the makers say, to its -"body," but a small piece of the same will be colorless. How large -a body of Walden water would be required to reflect a green tint I -have never proved. The water of our river is black or a very dark -brown to one looking directly down on it, and, like that of most -ponds, imparts to the body of one bathing in it a yellowish tinge -but this water is of such crystalline purity that the body of the -bather appears of an alabaster whiteness, still more unnatural, -which, as the limbs are magnified and distorted withal, produces a -monstrous effect, making fit studies for a Michael Angelo. -The water is so transparent that the bottom can easily be -discerned at the depth of twentyfive or thirty feet. Paddling over -it, you may see, many feet beneath the surface, the schools of perch -and shiners, perhaps only an inch long, yet the former easily -distinguished by their transverse bars, and you think that they must -be ascetic fish that find a subsistence there. Once, in the winter, -many years ago, when I had been cutting holes through the ice in -order to catch pickerel, as I stepped ashore I tossed my axe back on -to the ice, but, as if some evil genius had directed it, it slid -four or five rods directly into one of the holes, where the water -was twentyfive feet deep. Out of curiosity, I lay down on the ice -and looked through the hole, until I saw the axe a little on one -side, standing on its head, with its helve erect and gently swaying -to and fro with the pulse of the pond and there it might have stood -erect and swaying till in the course of time the handle rotted off, -if I had not disturbed it. Making another hole directly over it -with an ice chisel which I had, and cutting down the longest birch -which I could find in the neighborhood with my knife, I made a -slipnoose, which I attached to its end, and, letting it down -carefully, passed it over the knob of the handle, and drew it by a -line along the birch, and so pulled the axe out again. -The shore is composed of a belt of smooth rounded white stones -like pavingstones, excepting one or two short sand beaches, and is -so steep that in many places a single leap will carry you into water -over your head and were it not for its remarkable transparency, -that would be the last to be seen of its bottom till it rose on the -opposite side. Some think it is bottomless. It is nowhere muddy, -and a casual observer would say that there were no weeds at all in -it and of noticeable plants, except in the little meadows recently -overflowed, which do not properly belong to it, a closer scrutiny -does not detect a flag nor a bulrush, nor even a lily, yellow or -white, but only a few small heartleaves and potamogetons, and -perhaps a watertarget or two all which however a bather might not -perceive and these plants are clean and bright like the element -they grow in. The stones extend a rod or two into the water, and -then the bottom is pure sand, except in the deepest parts, where -there is usually a little sediment, probably from the decay of the -leaves which have been wafted on to it so many successive falls, and -a bright green weed is brought up on anchors even in midwinter. -We have one other pond just like this, White Pond, in Nine Acre -Corner, about two and a half miles westerly but, though I am -acquainted with most of the ponds within a dozen miles of this -centre I do not know a third of this pure and welllike character. -Successive nations perchance have drank at, admired, and fathomed -it, and passed away, and still its water is green and pellucid as -ever. Not an intermitting spring Perhaps on that spring morning -when Adam and Eve were driven out of Eden Walden Pond was already in -existence, and even then breaking up in a gentle spring rain -accompanied with mist and a southerly wind, and covered with myriads -of ducks and geese, which had not heard of the fall, when still such -pure lakes sufficed them. Even then it had commenced to rise and -fall, and had clarified its waters and colored them of the hue they -now wear, and obtained a patent of Heaven to be the only Walden Pond -in the world and distiller of celestial dews. Who knows in how many -unremembered nations' literatures this has been the Castalian -Fountain? or what nymphs presided over it in the Golden Age? It is -a gem of the first water which Concord wears in her coronet. -Yet perchance the first who came to this well have left some -trace of their footsteps. I have been surprised to detect -encircling the pond, even where a thick wood has just been cut down -on the shore, a narrow shelflike path in the steep hillside, -alternately rising and falling, approaching and receding from the -water's edge, as old probably as the race of man here, worn by the -feet of aboriginal hunters, and still from time to time unwittingly -trodden by the present occupants of the land. This is particularly -distinct to one standing on the middle of the pond in winter, just -after a light snow has fallen, appearing as a clear undulating white -line, unobscured by weeds and twigs, and very obvious a quarter of a -mile off in many places where in summer it is hardly distinguishable -close at hand. The snow reprints it, as it were, in clear white -type altorelievo. The ornamented grounds of villas which will one -day be built here may still preserve some trace of this. -The pond rises and falls, but whether regularly or not, and -within what period, nobody knows, though, as usual, many pretend to -know. It is commonly higher in the winter and lower in the summer, -though not corresponding to the general wet and dryness. I can -remember when it was a foot or two lower, and also when it was at -least five feet higher, than when I lived by it. There is a narrow -sandbar running into it, with very deep water on one side, on which -I helped boil a kettle of chowder, some six rods from the main -shore, about the year , which it has not been possible to do for -twentyfive years and, on the other hand, my friends used to listen -with incredulity when I told them, that a few years later I was -accustomed to fish from a boat in a secluded cove in the woods, -fifteen rods from the only shore they knew, which place was long -since converted into a meadow. But the pond has risen steadily for -two years, and now, in the summer of ', is just five feet higher -than when I lived there, or as high as it was thirty years ago, and -fishing goes on again in the meadow. This makes a difference of -level, at the outside, of six or seven feet and yet the water shed -by the surrounding hills is insignificant in amount, and this -overflow must be referred to causes which affect the deep springs. -This same summer the pond has begun to fall again. It is remarkable -that this fluctuation, whether periodical or not, appears thus to -require many years for its accomplishment. I have observed one rise -and a part of two falls, and I expect that a dozen or fifteen years -hence the water will again be as low as I have ever known it. -Flint's Pond, a mile eastward, allowing for the disturbance -occasioned by its inlets and outlets, and the smaller intermediate -ponds also, sympathize with Walden, and recently attained their -greatest height at the same time with the latter. The same is true, -as far as my observation goes, of White Pond. -This rise and fall of Walden at long intervals serves this use -at least the water standing at this great height for a year or -more, though it makes it difficult to walk round it, kills the -shrubs and trees which have sprung up about its edge since the last -rise pitch pines, birches, alders, aspens, and others and, -falling again, leaves an unobstructed shore for, unlike many ponds -and all waters which are subject to a daily tide, its shore is -cleanest when the water is lowest. On the side of the pond next my -house a row of pitch pines, fifteen feet high, has been killed and -tipped over as if by a lever, and thus a stop put to their -encroachments and their size indicates how many years have elapsed -since the last rise to this height. By this fluctuation the pond -asserts its title to a shore, and thus the shore is shorn, and the -trees cannot hold it by right of possession. These are the lips of -the lake, on which no beard grows. It licks its chaps from time to -time. When the water is at its height, the alders, willows, and -maples send forth a mass of fibrous red roots several feet long from -all sides of their stems in the water, and to the height of three or -four feet from the ground, in the effort to maintain themselves and -I have known the high blueberry bushes about the shore, which -commonly produce no fruit, bear an abundant crop under these -circumstances. -Some have been puzzled to tell how the shore became so regularly -paved. My townsmen have all heard the tradition the oldest -people tell me that they heard it in their youth that anciently -the Indians were holding a powwow upon a hill here, which rose as -high into the heavens as the pond now sinks deep into the earth, and -they used much profanity, as the story goes, though this vice is one -of which the Indians were never guilty, and while they were thus -engaged the hill shook and suddenly sank, and only one old squaw, -named Walden, escaped, and from her the pond was named. It has been -conjectured that when the hill shook these stones rolled down its -side and became the present shore. It is very certain, at any rate, -that once there was no pond here, and now there is one and this -Indian fable does not in any respect conflict with the account of -that ancient settler whom I have mentioned, who remembers so well -when he first came here with his diviningrod, saw a thin vapor -rising from the sward, and the hazel pointed steadily downward, and -he concluded to dig a well here. As for the stones, many still -think that they are hardly to be accounted for by the action of the -waves on these hills but I observe that the surrounding hills are -remarkably full of the same kind of stones, so that they have been -obliged to pile them up in walls on both sides of the railroad cut -nearest the pond and, moreover, there are most stones where the -shore is most abrupt so that, unfortunately, it is no longer a -mystery to me. I detect the paver. If the name was not derived -from that of some English locality Saffron Walden, for instance -one might suppose that it was called originally Walledin Pond. -The pond was my well ready dug. For four months in the year its -water is as cold as it is pure at all times and I think that it is -then as good as any, if not the best, in the town. In the winter, -all water which is exposed to the air is colder than springs and -wells which are protected from it. The temperature of the pond -water which had stood in the room where I sat from five o'clock in -the afternoon till noon the next day, the sixth of March, , the -thermometer having been up to x or x some of the time, owing -partly to the sun on the roof, was x, or one degree colder than -the water of one of the coldest wells in the village just drawn. -The temperature of the Boiling Spring the same day was x, or the -warmest of any water tried, though it is the coldest that I know of -in summer, when, beside, shallow and stagnant surface water is not -mingled with it. Moreover, in summer, Walden never becomes so warm -as most water which is exposed to the sun, on account of its depth. -In the warmest weather I usually placed a pailful in my cellar, -where it became cool in the night, and remained so during the day -though I also resorted to a spring in the neighborhood. It was as -good when a week old as the day it was dipped, and had no taste of -the pump. Whoever camps for a week in summer by the shore of a -pond, needs only bury a pail of water a few feet deep in the shade -of his camp to be independent of the luxury of ice. -There have been caught in Walden pickerel, one weighing seven -pounds to say nothing of another which carried off a reel with -great velocity, which the fisherman safely set down at eight pounds -because he did not see him perch and pouts, some of each weighing -over two pounds, shiners, chivins or roach Leuciscus pulchellus, a -very few breams, and a couple of eels, one weighing four pounds I -am thus particular because the weight of a fish is commonly its only -title to fame, and these are the only eels I have heard of here -also, I have a faint recollection of a little fish some five inches -long, with silvery sides and a greenish back, somewhat dacelike in -its character, which I mention here chiefly to link my facts to -fable. Nevertheless, this pond is not very fertile in fish. Its -pickerel, though not abundant, are its chief boast. I have seen at -one time lying on the ice pickerel of at least three different -kinds a long and shallow one, steelcolored, most like those caught -in the river a bright golden kind, with greenish reflections and -remarkably deep, which is the most common here and another, -goldencolored, and shaped like the last, but peppered on the sides -with small dark brown or black spots, intermixed with a few faint -bloodred ones, very much like a trout. The specific name -reticulatus would not apply to this it should be guttatus rather. -These are all very firm fish, and weigh more than their size -promises. The shiners, pouts, and perch also, and indeed all the -fishes which inhabit this pond, are much cleaner, handsomer, and -firmerfleshed than those in the river and most other ponds, as the -water is purer, and they can easily be distinguished from them. -Probably many ichthyologists would make new varieties of some of -them. There are also a clean race of frogs and tortoises, and a few -mussels in it muskrats and minks leave their traces about it, and -occasionally a travelling mudturtle visits it. Sometimes, when I -pushed off my boat in the morning, I disturbed a great mudturtle -which had secreted himself under the boat in the night. Ducks and -geese frequent it in the spring and fall, the whitebellied swallows -Hirundo bicolor skim over it, and the peetweets Totanus -macularius "teeter" along its stony shores all summer. I have -sometimes disturbed a fish hawk sitting on a white pine over the -water but I doubt if it is ever profaned by the wind of a gull, -like Fair Haven. At most, it tolerates one annual loon. These are -all the animals of consequence which frequent it now. -You may see from a boat, in calm weather, near the sandy -eastern shore, where the water is eight or ten feet deep, and also -in some other parts of the pond, some circular heaps half a dozen -feet in diameter by a foot in height, consisting of small stones -less than a hen's egg in size, where all around is bare sand. At -first you wonder if the Indians could have formed them on the ice -for any purpose, and so, when the ice melted, they sank to the -bottom but they are too regular and some of them plainly too fresh -for that. They are similar to those found in rivers but as there -are no suckers nor lampreys here, I know not by what fish they could -be made. Perhaps they are the nests of the chivin. These lend a -pleasing mystery to the bottom. -The shore is irregular enough not to be monotonous. I have in -my mind's eye the western, indented with deep bays, the bolder -northern, and the beautifully scalloped southern shore, where -successive capes overlap each other and suggest unexplored coves -between. The forest has never so good a setting, nor is so -distinctly beautiful, as when seen from the middle of a small lake -amid hills which rise from the water's edge for the water in which -it is reflected not only makes the best foreground in such a case, -but, with its winding shore, the most natural and agreeable boundary -to it. There is no rawness nor imperfection in its edge there, as -where the axe has cleared a part, or a cultivated field abuts on it. -The trees have ample room to expand on the water side, and each -sends forth its most vigorous branch in that direction. There -Nature has woven a natural selvage, and the eye rises by just -gradations from the low shrubs of the shore to the highest trees. -There are few traces of man's hand to be seen. The water laves the -shore as it did a thousand years ago. -A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. -It is earth's eye looking into which the beholder measures the -depth of his own nature. The fluviatile trees next the shore are -the slender eyelashes which fringe it, and the wooded hills and -cliffs around are its overhanging brows. -Standing on the smooth sandy beach at the east end of the pond, -in a calm September afternoon, when a slight haze makes the opposite -shoreline indistinct, I have seen whence came the expression, "the -glassy surface of a lake." When you invert your head, it looks like -a thread of finest gossamer stretched across the valley, and -gleaming against the distant pine woods, separating one stratum of -the atmosphere from another. You would think that you could walk -dry under it to the opposite hills, and that the swallows which skim -over might perch on it. Indeed, they sometimes dive below this -line, as it were by mistake, and are undeceived. As you look over -the pond westward you are obliged to employ both your hands to -defend your eyes against the reflected as well as the true sun, for -they are equally bright and if, between the two, you survey its -surface critically, it is literally as smooth as glass, except where -the skater insects, at equal intervals scattered over its whole -extent, by their motions in the sun produce the finest imaginable -sparkle on it, or, perchance, a duck plumes itself, or, as I have -said, a swallow skims so low as to touch it. It may be that in the -distance a fish describes an arc of three or four feet in the air, -and there is one bright flash where it emerges, and another where it -strikes the water sometimes the whole silvery arc is revealed or -here and there, perhaps, is a thistledown floating on its surface, -which the fishes dart at and so dimple it again. It is like molten -glass cooled but not congealed, and the few motes in it are pure and -beautiful like the imperfections in glass. You may often detect a -yet smoother and darker water, separated from the rest as if by an -invisible cobweb, boom of the water nymphs, resting on it. From a -hilltop you can see a fish leap in almost any part for not a -pickerel or shiner picks an insect from this smooth surface but it -manifestly disturbs the equilibrium of the whole lake. It is -wonderful with what elaborateness this simple fact is advertised -this piscine murder will out and from my distant perch I -distinguish the circling undulations when they are half a dozen rods -in diameter. You can even detect a waterbug Gyrinus ceaselessly -progressing over the smooth surface a quarter of a mile off for -they furrow the water slightly, making a conspicuous ripple bounded -by two diverging lines, but the skaters glide over it without -rippling it perceptibly. When the surface is considerably agitated -there are no skaters nor waterbugs on it, but apparently, in calm -days, they leave their havens and adventurously glide forth from the -shore by short impulses till they completely cover it. It is a -soothing employment, on one of those fine days in the fall when all -the warmth of the sun is fully appreciated, to sit on a stump on -such a height as this, overlooking the pond, and study the dimpling -circles which are incessantly inscribed on its otherwise invisible -surface amid the reflected skies and trees. Over this great expanse -there is no disturbance but it is thus at once gently smoothed away -and assuaged, as, when a vase of water is jarred, the trembling -circles seek the shore and all is smooth again. Not a fish can leap -or an insect fall on the pond but it is thus reported in circling -dimples, in lines of beauty, as it were the constant welling up of -its fountain, the gentle pulsing of its life, the heaving of its -breast. The thrills of joy and thrills of pain are -undistinguishable. How peaceful the phenomena of the lake Again -the works of man shine as in the spring. Ay, every leaf and twig -and stone and cobweb sparkles now at midafternoon as when covered -with dew in a spring morning. Every motion of an oar or an insect -produces a flash of light and if an oar falls, how sweet the echo -In such a day, in September or October, Walden is a perfect -forest mirror, set round with stones as precious to my eye as if -fewer or rarer. Nothing so fair, so pure, and at the same time so -large, as a lake, perchance, lies on the surface of the earth. Sky -water. It needs no fence. Nations come and go without defiling it. -It is a mirror which no stone can crack, whose quicksilver will -never wear off, whose gilding Nature continually repairs no storms, -no dust, can dim its surface ever fresh a mirror in which all -impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the sun's hazy -brush this the light dustcloth which retains no breath that -is breathed on it, but sends its own to float as clouds high above -its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still. -A field of water betrays the spirit that is in the air. It is -continually receiving new life and motion from above. It is -intermediate in its nature between land and sky. On land only the -grass and trees wave, but the water itself is rippled by the wind. -I see where the breeze dashes across it by the streaks or flakes of -light. It is remarkable that we can look down on its surface. We -shall, perhaps, look down thus on the surface of air at length, and -mark where a still subtler spirit sweeps over it. -The skaters and waterbugs finally disappear in the latter part -of October, when the severe frosts have come and then and in -November, usually, in a calm day, there is absolutely nothing to -ripple the surface. One November afternoon, in the calm at the end -of a rainstorm of several days' duration, when the sky was still -completely overcast and the air was full of mist, I observed that -the pond was remarkably smooth, so that it was difficult to -distinguish its surface though it no longer reflected the bright -tints of October, but the sombre November colors of the surrounding -hills. Though I passed over it as gently as possible, the slight -undulations produced by my boat extended almost as far as I could -see, and gave a ribbed appearance to the reflections. But, as I was -looking over the surface, I saw here and there at a distance a faint -glimmer, as if some skater insects which had escaped the frosts -might be collected there, or, perchance, the surface, being so -smooth, betrayed where a spring welled up from the bottom. Paddling -gently to one of these places, I was surprised to find myself -surrounded by myriads of small perch, about five inches long, of a -rich bronze color in the green water, sporting there, and constantly -rising to the surface and dimpling it, sometimes leaving bubbles on -it. In such transparent and seemingly bottomless water, reflecting -the clouds, I seemed to be floating through the air as in a balloon, -and their swimming impressed me as a kind of flight or hovering, as -if they were a compact flock of birds passing just beneath my level -on the right or left, their fins, like sails, set all around them. -There were many such schools in the pond, apparently improving the -short season before winter would draw an icy shutter over their -broad skylight, sometimes giving to the surface an appearance as if -a slight breeze struck it, or a few raindrops fell there. When I -approached carelessly and alarmed them, they made a sudden splash -and rippling with their tails, as if one had struck the water with a -brushy bough, and instantly took refuge in the depths. At length -the wind rose, the mist increased, and the waves began to run, and -the perch leaped much higher than before, half out of water, a -hundred black points, three inches long, at once above the surface. -Even as late as the fifth of December, one year, I saw some dimples -on the surface, and thinking it was going to rain hard immediately, -the air being fun of mist, I made haste to take my place at the oars -and row homeward already the rain seemed rapidly increasing, though -I felt none on my cheek, and I anticipated a thorough soaking. But -suddenly the dimples ceased, for they were produced by the perch, -which the noise of my oars had seared into the depths, and I saw -their schools dimly disappearing so I spent a dry afternoon after -all. -An old man who used to frequent this pond nearly sixty years -ago, when it was dark with surrounding forests, tells me that in -those days he sometimes saw it all alive with ducks and other -waterfowl, and that there were many eagles about it. He came here -afishing, and used an old log canoe which he found on the shore. -It was made of two white pine logs dug out and pinned together, and -was cut off square at the ends. It was very clumsy, but lasted a -great many years before it became waterlogged and perhaps sank to -the bottom. He did not know whose it was it belonged to the pond. -He used to make a cable for his anchor of strips of hickory bark -tied together. An old man, a potter, who lived by the pond before -the Revolution, told him once that there was an iron chest at the -bottom, and that he had seen it. Sometimes it would come floating -up to the shore but when you went toward it, it would go back into -deep water and disappear. I was pleased to hear of the old log -canoe, which took the place of an Indian one of the same material -but more graceful construction, which perchance had first been a -tree on the bank, and then, as it were, fell into the water, to -float there for a generation, the most proper vessel for the lake. -I remember that when I first looked into these depths there were -many large trunks to be seen indistinctly lying on the bottom, which -had either been blown over formerly, or left on the ice at the last -cutting, when wood was cheaper but now they have mostly -disappeared. -When I first paddled a boat on Walden, it was completely -surrounded by thick and lofty pine and oak woods, and in some of its -coves grapevines had run over the trees next the water and formed -bowers under which a boat could pass. The hills which form its -shores are so steep, and the woods on them were then so high, that, -as you looked down from the west end, it had the appearance of an -amphitheatre for some land of sylvan spectacle. I have spent many -an hour, when I was younger, floating over its surface as the zephyr -willed, having paddled my boat to the middle, and lying on my back -across the seats, in a summer forenoon, dreaming awake, until I was -aroused by the boat touching the sand, and I arose to see what shore -my fates had impelled me to days when idleness was the most -attractive and productive industry. Many a forenoon have I stolen -away, preferring to spend thus the most valued part of the day for -I was rich, if not in money, in sunny hours and summer days, and -spent them lavishly nor do I regret that I did not waste more of -them in the workshop or the teacher's desk. But since I left those -shores the woodchoppers have still further laid them waste, and now -for many a year there will be no more rambling through the aisles of -the wood, with occasional vistas through which you see the water. -My Muse may be excused if she is silent henceforth. How can you -expect the birds to sing when their groves are cut down? -Now the trunks of trees on the bottom, and the old log canoe, -and the dark surrounding woods, are gone, and the villagers, who -scarcely know where it lies, instead of going to the pond to bathe -or drink, are thinking to bring its water, which should be as sacred -as the Ganges at least, to the village in a pipe, to wash their -dishes with to earn their Walden by the turning of a cock or -drawing of a plug That devilish Iron Horse, whose earrending -neigh is heard throughout the town, has muddied the Boiling Spring -with his foot, and he it is that has browsed off all the woods on -Walden shore, that Trojan horse, with a thousand men in his belly, -introduced by mercenary Greeks Where is the country's champion, -the Moore of Moore Hill, to meet him at the Deep Cut and thrust an -avenging lance between the ribs of the bloated pest? -Nevertheless, of all the characters I have known, perhaps Walden -wears best, and best preserves its purity. Many men have been -likened to it, but few deserve that honor. Though the woodchoppers -have laid bare first this shore and then that, and the Irish have -built their sties by it, and the railroad has infringed on its -border, and the icemen have skimmed it once, it is itself -unchanged, the same water which my youthful eyes fell on all the -change is in me. It has not acquired one permanent wrinkle after -all its ripples. It is perennially young, and I may stand and see a -swallow dip apparently to pick an insect from its surface as of -yore. It struck me again tonight, as if I had not seen it almost -daily for more than twenty years Why, here is Walden, the same -woodland lake that I discovered so many years ago where a forest -was cut down last winter another is springing up by its shore as -lustily as ever the same thought is welling up to its surface that -was then it is the same liquid joy and happiness to itself and its -Maker, ay, and it may be to me. It is the work of a brave man -surely, in whom there was no guile He rounded this water with his -hand, deepened and clarified it in his thought, and in his will -bequeathed it to Concord. I see by its face that it is visited by -the same reflection and I can almost say, Walden, is it you? -It is no dream of mine, -To ornament a line -I cannot come nearer to God and Heaven -Than I live to Walden even. -I am its stony shore, -And the breeze that passes o'er -In the hollow of my hand -Are its water and its sand, -And its deepest resort -Lies high in my thought. -The cars never pause to look at it yet I fancy that the -engineers and firemen and brakemen, and those passengers who have a -season ticket and see it often, are better men for the sight. The -engineer does not forget at night, or his nature does not, that he -has beheld this vision of serenity and purity once at least during -the day. Though seen but once, it helps to wash out State Street -and the engine's soot. One proposes that it be called "God's Drop." -I have said that Walden has no visible inlet nor outlet, but it -is on the one hand distantly and indirectly related to Flint's Pond, -which is more elevated, by a chain of small ponds coming from that -quarter, and on the other directly and manifestly to Concord River, -which is lower, by a similar chain of ponds through which in some -other geological period it may have flowed, and by a little digging, -which God forbid, it can be made to flow thither again. If by -living thus reserved and austere, like a hermit in the woods, so -long, it has acquired such wonderful purity, who would not regret -that the comparatively impure waters of Flint's Pond should be -mingled with it, or itself should ever go to waste its sweetness in -the ocean wave? -Flint's, or Sandy Pond, in Lincoln, our greatest lake and inland -sea, lies about a mile east of Walden. It is much larger, being -said to contain one hundred and ninetyseven acres, and is more -fertile in fish but it is comparatively shallow, and not remarkably -pure. A walk through the woods thither was often my recreation. It -was worth the while, if only to feel the wind blow on your cheek -freely, and see the waves run, and remember the life of mariners. I -went achestnutting there in the fall, on windy days, when the nuts -were dropping into the water and were washed to my feet and one -day, as I crept along its sedgy shore, the fresh spray blowing in my -face, I came upon the mouldering wreck of a boat, the sides gone, -and hardly more than the impression of its flat bottom left amid the -rushes yet its model was sharply defined, as if it were a large -decayed pad, with its veins. It was as impressive a wreck as one -could imagine on the seashore, and had as good a moral. It is by -this time mere vegetable mould and undistinguishable pond shore, -through which rushes and flags have pushed up. I used to admire the -ripple marks on the sandy bottom, at the north end of this pond, -made firm and hard to the feet of the wader by the pressure of the -water, and the rushes which grew in Indian file, in waving lines, -corresponding to these marks, rank behind rank, as if the waves had -planted them. There also I have found, in considerable quantities, -curious balls, composed apparently of fine grass or roots, of -pipewort perhaps, from half an inch to four inches in diameter, and -perfectly spherical. These wash back and forth in shallow water on -a sandy bottom, and are sometimes cast on the shore. They are -either solid grass, or have a little sand in the middle. At first -you would say that they were formed by the action of the waves, like -a pebble yet the smallest are made of equally coarse materials, -half an inch long, and they are produced only at one season of the -year. Moreover, the waves, I suspect, do not so much construct as -wear down a material which has already acquired consistency. They -preserve their form when dry for an indefinite period. -Flint's Pond Such is the poverty of our nomenclature. What -right had the unclean and stupid farmer, whose farm abutted on this -sky water, whose shores he has ruthlessly laid bare, to give his -name to it? Some skinflint, who loved better the reflecting -surface of a dollar, or a bright cent, in which he could see his own -brazen face who regarded even the wild ducks which settled in it as -trespassers his fingers grown into crooked and bony talons from the -long habit of grasping harpylike so it is not named for me. I -go not there to see him nor to hear of him who never saw it, who -never bathed in it, who never loved it, who never protected it, who -never spoke a good word for it, nor thanked God that He had made it. -Rather let it be named from the fishes that swim in it, the wild -fowl or quadrupeds which frequent it, the wild flowers which grow by -its shores, or some wild man or child the thread of whose history is -interwoven with its own not from him who could show no title to it -but the deed which a likeminded neighbor or legislature gave him -him who thought only of its money value whose presence perchance -cursed all the shores who exhausted the land around it, and would -fain have exhausted the waters within it who regretted only that it -was not English hay or cranberry meadow there was nothing to -redeem it, forsooth, in his eyes and would have drained and sold -it for the mud at its bottom. It did not turn his mill, and it was -no privilege to him to behold it. I respect not his labors, his -farm where everything has its price, who would carry the landscape, -who would carry his God, to market, if he could get anything for -him who goes to market for his god as it is on whose farm nothing -grows free, whose fields bear no crops, whose meadows no flowers, -whose trees no fruits, but dollars who loves not the beauty of his -fruits, whose fruits are not ripe for him till they are turned to -dollars. Give me the poverty that enjoys true wealth. Farmers are -respectable and interesting to me in proportion as they are poor -poor farmers. A model farm where the house stands like a fungus in -a muckheap, chambers for men horses, oxen, and swine, cleansed and -uncleansed, all contiguous to one another Stocked with men A -great greasespot, redolent of manures and buttermilk Under a high -state of cultivation, being manured with the hearts and brains of -men As if you were to raise your potatoes in the churchyard Such -is a model farm. -No, no if the fairest features of the landscape are to be named -after men, let them be the noblest and worthiest men alone. Let our -lakes receive as true names at least as the Icarian Sea, where -"still the shore" a "brave attempt resounds." -Goose Pond, of small extent, is on my way to Flint's Fair -Haven, an expansion of Concord River, said to contain some seventy -acres, is a mile southwest and White Pond, of about forty acres, is -a mile and a half beyond Fair Haven. This is my lake country. -These, with Concord River, are my water privileges and night and -day, year in year out, they grind such grist as I carry to them. -Since the woodcutters, and the railroad, and I myself have -profaned Walden, perhaps the most attractive, if not the most -beautiful, of all our lakes, the gem of the woods, is White Pond -a poor name from its commonness, whether derived from the remarkable -purity of its waters or the color of its sands. In these as in -other respects, however, it is a lesser twin of Walden. They are so -much alike that you would say they must be connected under ground. -It has the same stony shore, and its waters are of the same hue. As -at Walden, in sultry dogday weather, looking down through the woods -on some of its bays which are not so deep but that the reflection -from the bottom tinges them, its waters are of a misty bluishgreen -or glaucous color. Many years since I used to go there to collect -the sand by cartloads, to make sandpaper with, and I have continued -to visit it ever since. One who frequents it proposes to call it -Virid Lake. Perhaps it might be called Yellow Pine Lake, from the -following circumstance. About fifteen years ago you could see the -top of a pitch pine, of the kind called yellow pine hereabouts, -though it is not a distinct species, projecting above the surface in -deep water, many rods from the shore. It was even supposed by some -that the pond had sunk, and this was one of the primitive forest -that formerly stood there. I find that even so long ago as , in -a "Topographical Description of the Town of Concord," by one of its -citizens, in the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical -Society, the author, after speaking of Walden and White Ponds, adds, -"In the middle of the latter may be seen, when the water is very -low, a tree which appears as if it grew in the place where it now -stands, although the roots are fifty feet below the surface of the -water the top of this tree is broken off, and at that place -measures fourteen inches in diameter." In the spring of ' I -talked with the man who lives nearest the pond in Sudbury, who told -me that it was he who got out this tree ten or fifteen years before. -As near as he could remember, it stood twelve or fifteen rods from -the shore, where the water was thirty or forty feet deep. It was in -the winter, and he had been getting out ice in the forenoon, and had -resolved that in the afternoon, with the aid of his neighbors, he -would take out the old yellow pine. He sawed a channel in the ice -toward the shore, and hauled it over and along and out on to the ice -with oxen but, before he had gone far in his work, he was surprised -to find that it was wrong end upward, with the stumps of the -branches pointing down, and the small end firmly fastened in the -sandy bottom. It was about a foot in diameter at the big end, and -he had expected to get a good sawlog, but it was so rotten as to be -fit only for fuel, if for that. He had some of it in his shed then. -There were marks of an axe and of woodpeckers on the butt. He -thought that it might have been a dead tree on the shore, but was -finally blown over into the pond, and after the top had become -waterlogged, while the buttend was still dry and light, had -drifted out and sunk wrong end up. His father, eighty years old, -could not remember when it was not there. Several pretty large logs -may still be seen lying on the bottom, where, owing to the -undulation of the surface, they look like huge water snakes in -motion. -This pond has rarely been profaned by a boat, for there is -little in it to tempt a fisherman. Instead of the white lily, which -requires mud, or the common sweet flag, the blue flag Iris -versicolor grows thinly in the pure water, rising from the stony -bottom all around the shore, where it is visited by hummingbirds in -June and the color both of its bluish blades and its flowers and -especially their reflections, is in singular harmony with the -glaucous water. -White Pond and Walden are great crystals on the surface of the -earth, Lakes of Light. If they were permanently congealed, and -small enough to be clutched, they would, perchance, be carried off -by slaves, like precious stones, to adorn the heads of emperors but -being liquid, and ample, and secured to us and our successors -forever, we disregard them, and run after the diamond of Kohinoor. -They are too pure to have a market value they contain no muck. How -much more beautiful than our lives, how much more transparent than -our characters, are they We never learned meanness of them. How -much fairer than the pool before the farmers door, in which his -ducks swim Hither the clean wild ducks come. Nature has no human -inhabitant who appreciates her. The birds with their plumage and -their notes are in harmony with the flowers, but what youth or -maiden conspires with the wild luxuriant beauty of Nature? She -flourishes most alone, far from the towns where they reside. Talk -of heaven ye disgrace earth. -Baker Farm -Sometimes I rambled to pine groves, standing like temples, or -like fleets at sea, fullrigged, with wavy boughs, and rippling with -light, so soft and green and shady that the Druids would have -forsaken their oaks to worship in them or to the cedar wood beyond -Flint's Pond, where the trees, covered with hoary blue berries, -spiring higher and higher, are fit to stand before Valhalla, and the -creeping juniper covers the ground with wreaths full of fruit or to -swamps where the usnea lichen hangs in festoons from the white -spruce trees, and toadstools, round tables of the swamp gods, cover -the ground, and more beautiful fungi adorn the stumps, like -butterflies or shells, vegetable winkles where the swamppink and -dogwood grow, the red alderberry glows like eyes of imps, the -waxwork grooves and crushes the hardest woods in its folds, and the -wild holly berries make the beholder forget his home with their -beauty, and he is dazzled and tempted by nameless other wild -forbidden fruits, too fair for mortal taste. Instead of calling on -some scholar, I paid many a visit to particular trees, of kinds -which are rare in this neighborhood, standing far away in the middle -of some pasture, or in the depths of a wood or swamp, or on a -hilltop such as the black birch, of which we have some handsome -specimens two feet in diameter its cousin, the yellow birch, with -its loose golden vest, perfumed like the first the beech, which has -so neat a bole and beautifully lichenpainted, perfect in all its -details, of which, excepting scattered specimens, I know but one -small grove of sizable trees left in the township, supposed by some -to have been planted by the pigeons that were once baited with -beechnuts near by it is worth the while to see the silver grain -sparkle when you split this wood the bass the hornbeam the Celtis -occidentalis, or false elm, of which we have but one wellgrown -some taller mast of a pine, a shingle tree, or a more perfect -hemlock than usual, standing like a pagoda in the midst of the -woods and many others I could mention. These were the shrines I -visited both summer and winter. -Once it chanced that I stood in the very abutment of a rainbow's -arch, which filled the lower stratum of the atmosphere, tinging the -grass and leaves around, and dazzling me as if I looked through -colored crystal. It was a lake of rainbow light, in which, for a -short while, I lived like a dolphin. If it had lasted longer it -might have tinged my employments and life. As I walked on the -railroad causeway, I used to wonder at the halo of light around my -shadow, and would fain fancy myself one of the elect. One who -visited me declared that the shadows of some Irishmen before him had -no halo about them, that it was only natives that were so -distinguished. Benvenuto Cellini tells us in his memoirs, that, -after a certain terrible dream or vision which he had during his -confinement in the castle of St. Angelo a resplendent light appeared -over the shadow of his head at morning and evening, whether he was -in Italy or France, and it was particularly conspicuous when the -grass was moist with dew. This was probably the same phenomenon to -which I have referred, which is especially observed in the morning, -but also at other times, and even by moonlight. Though a constant -one, it is not commonly noticed, and, in the case of an excitable -imagination like Cellini's, it would be basis enough for -superstition. Beside, he tells us that he showed it to very few. -But are they not indeed distinguished who are conscious that they -are regarded at all? -I set out one afternoon to go afishing to Fair Haven, through -the woods, to eke out my scanty fare of vegetables. My way led -through Pleasant Meadow, an adjunct of the Baker Farm, that retreat -of which a poet has since sung, beginning, -"Thy entry is a pleasant field, -Which some mossy fruit trees yield -Partly to a ruddy brook, -By gliding musquash undertook, -And mercurial trout, -Darting about." -I thought of living there before I went to Walden. I "hooked" the -apples, leaped the brook, and scared the musquash and the trout. It -was one of those afternoons which seem indefinitely long before one, -in which many events may happen, a large portion of our natural -life, though it was already half spent when I started. By the way -there came up a shower, which compelled me to stand half an hour -under a pine, piling boughs over my head, and wearing my -handkerchief for a shed and when at length I had made one cast over -the pickerelweed, standing up to my middle in water, I found myself -suddenly in the shadow of a cloud, and the thunder began to rumble -with such emphasis that I could do no more than listen to it. The -gods must be proud, thought I, with such forked flashes to rout a -poor unarmed fisherman. So I made haste for shelter to the nearest -hut, which stood half a mile from any road, but so much the nearer -to the pond, and had long been uninhabited -"And here a poet builded, -In the completed years, -For behold a trivial cabin -That to destruction steers." -So the Muse fables. But therein, as I found, dwelt now John Field, -an Irishman, and his wife, and several children, from the -broadfaced boy who assisted his father at his work, and now came -running by his side from the bog to escape the rain, to the -wrinkled, sibyllike, coneheaded infant that sat upon its father's -knee as in the palaces of nobles, and looked out from its home in -the midst of wet and hunger inquisitively upon the stranger, with -the privilege of infancy, not knowing but it was the last of a noble -line, and the hope and cynosure of the world, instead of John -Field's poor starveling brat. There we sat together under that part -of the roof which leaked the least, while it showered and thundered -without. I had sat there many times of old before the ship was -built that floated his family to America. An honest, hardworking, -but shiftless man plainly was John Field and his wife, she too was -brave to cook so many successive dinners in the recesses of that -lofty stove with round greasy face and bare breast, still thinking -to improve her condition one day with the never absent mop in one -hand, and yet no effects of it visible anywhere. The chickens, -which had also taken shelter here from the rain, stalked about the -room like members of the family, too humanized, methought, to roast -well. They stood and looked in my eye or pecked at my shoe -significantly. Meanwhile my host told me his story, how hard he -worked "bogging" for a neighboring farmer, turning up a meadow with -a spade or bog hoe at the rate of ten dollars an acre and the use of -the land with manure for one year, and his little broadfaced son -worked cheerfully at his father's side the while, not knowing how -poor a bargain the latter had made. I tried to help him with my -experience, telling him that he was one of my nearest neighbors, and -that I too, who came afishing here, and looked like a loafer, was -getting my living like himself that I lived in a tight, light, and -clean house, which hardly cost more than the annual rent of such a -ruin as his commonly amounts to and how, if he chose, he might in a -month or two build himself a palace of his own that I did not use -tea, nor coffee, nor butter, nor milk, nor fresh meat, and so did -not have to work to get them again, as I did not work hard, I did -not have to eat hard, and it cost me but a trifle for my food but -as he began with tea, and coffee, and butter, and milk, and beef, he -had to work hard to pay for them, and when he had worked hard he had -to eat hard again to repair the waste of his system and so it was -as broad as it was long, indeed it was broader than it was long, for -he was discontented and wasted his life into the bargain and yet he -had rated it as a gain in coming to America, that here you could get -tea, and coffee, and meat every day. But the only true America is -that country where you are at liberty to pursue such a mode of life -as may enable you to do without these, and where the state does not -endeavor to compel you to sustain the slavery and war and other -superfluous expenses which directly or indirectly result from the -use of such things. For I purposely talked to him as if he were a -philosopher, or desired to be one. I should be glad if all the -meadows on the earth were left in a wild state, if that were the -consequence of men's beginning to redeem themselves. A man will not -need to study history to find out what is best for his own culture. -But alas the culture of an Irishman is an enterprise to be -undertaken with a sort of moral bog hoe. I told him, that as he -worked so hard at bogging, he required thick boots and stout -clothing, which yet were soon soiled and worn out, but I wore light -shoes and thin clothing, which cost not half so much, though he -might think that I was dressed like a gentleman which, however, was -not the case, and in an hour or two, without labor, but as a -recreation, I could, if I wished, catch as many fish as I should -want for two days, or earn enough money to support me a week. If he -and his family would live simply, they might all go ahuckleberrying -in the summer for their amusement. John heaved a sigh at this, and -his wife stared with arms akimbo, and both appeared to be wondering -if they had capital enough to begin such a course with, or -arithmetic enough to carry it through. It was sailing by dead -reckoning to them, and they saw not clearly how to make their port -so therefore I suppose they still take life bravely, after their -fashion, face to face, giving it tooth and nail, not having skill to -split its massive columns with any fine entering wedge, and rout it -in detail thinking to deal with it roughly, as one should handle -a thistle. But they fight at an overwhelming disadvantage -living, John Field, alas without arithmetic, and failing so. -"Do you ever fish?" I asked. "Oh yes, I catch a mess now and -then when I am lying by good perch I catch. "What's your bait?" -"I catch shiners with fishworms, and bait the perch with them." -"You'd better go now, John," said his wife, with glistening and -hopeful face but John demurred. -The shower was now over, and a rainbow above the eastern woods -promised a fair evening so I took my departure. When I had got -without I asked for a drink, hoping to get a sight of the well -bottom, to complete my survey of the premises but there, alas are -shallows and quicksands, and rope broken withal, and bucket -irrecoverable. Meanwhile the right culinary vessel was selected, -water was seemingly distilled, and after consultation and long delay -passed out to the thirsty one not yet suffered to cool, not yet -to settle. Such gruel sustains life here, I thought so, shutting -my eyes, and excluding the motes by a skilfully directed -undercurrent, I drank to genuine hospitality the heartiest draught I -could. I am not squeamish in such cases when manners are concerned. -As I was leaving the Irishman's roof after the rain, bending my -steps again to the pond, my haste to catch pickerel, wading in -retired meadows, in sloughs and bogholes, in forlorn and savage -places, appeared for an instant trivial to me who had been sent to -school and college but as I ran down the hill toward the reddening -west, with the rainbow over my shoulder, and some faint tinkling -sounds borne to my ear through the cleansed air, from I know not -what quarter, my Good Genius seemed to say Go fish and hunt far -and wide day by day farther and wider and rest thee by many -brooks and hearthsides without misgiving. Remember thy Creator in -the days of thy youth. Rise free from care before the dawn, and -seek adventures. Let the noon find thee by other lakes, and the -night overtake thee everywhere at home. There are no larger fields -than these, no worthier games than may here be played. Grow wild -according to thy nature, like these sedges and brakes, which will -never become English bay. Let the thunder rumble what if it -threaten ruin to farmers' crops? That is not its errand to thee. -Take shelter under the cloud, while they flee to carts and sheds. -Let not to get a living be thy trade, but thy sport. Enjoy the -land, but own it not. Through want of enterprise and faith men are -where they are, buying and selling, and spending their lives like -serfs. -O Baker Farm -"Landscape where the richest element -Is a little sunshine innocent." ... -"No one runs to revel -On thy railfenced lea." ... -"Debate with no man hast thou, -With questions art never perplexed, -As tame at the first sight as now, -In thy plain russet gabardine dressed." ... -"Come ye who love, -And ye who hate, -Children of the Holy Dove, -And Guy Faux of the state, -And hang conspiracies -From the tough rafters of the trees" -Men come tamely home at night only from the next field or -street, where their household echoes haunt, and their life pines -because it breathes its own breath over again their shadows, -morning and evening, reach farther than their daily steps. We -should come home from far, from adventures, and perils, and -discoveries every day, with new experience and character. -Before I had reached the pond some fresh impulse had brought out -John Field, with altered mind, letting go "bogging" ere this sunset. -But he, poor man, disturbed only a couple of fins while I was -catching a fair string, and he said it was his luck but when we -changed seats in the boat luck changed seats too. Poor John Field -I trust he does not read this, unless he will improve by it -thinking to live by some derivative oldcountry mode in this -primitive new country to catch perch with shiners. It is good -bait sometimes, I allow. With his horizon all his own, yet he a -poor man, born to be poor, with his inherited Irish poverty or poor -life, his Adam's grandmother and boggy ways, not to rise in this -world, he nor his posterity, till their wading webbed bogtrotting -feet get talaria to their heels. -Higher Laws -As I came home through the woods with my string of fish, -trailing my pole, it being now quite dark, I caught a glimpse of a -woodchuck stealing across my path, and felt a strange thrill of -savage delight, and was strongly tempted to seize and devour him -raw not that I was hungry then, except for that wildness which he -represented. Once or twice, however, while I lived at the pond, I -found myself ranging the woods, like a halfstarved hound, with a -strange abandonment, seeking some kind of venison which I might -devour, and no morsel could have been too savage for me. The -wildest scenes had become unaccountably familiar. I found in -myself, and still find, an instinct toward a higher, or, as it is -named, spiritual life, as do most men, and another toward a -primitive rank and savage one, and I reverence them both. I love -the wild not less than the good. The wildness and adventure that -are in fishing still recommended it to me. I like sometimes to take -rank hold on life and spend my day more as the animals do. Perhaps -I have owed to this employment and to hunting, when quite young, my -closest acquaintance with Nature. They early introduce us to and -detain us in scenery with which otherwise, at that age, we should -have little acquaintance. Fishermen, hunters, woodchoppers, and -others, spending their lives in the fields and woods, in a peculiar -sense a part of Nature themselves, are often in a more favorable -mood for observing her, in the intervals of their pursuits, than -philosophers or poets even, who approach her with expectation. She -is not afraid to exhibit herself to them. The traveller on the -prairie is naturally a hunter, on the head waters of the Missouri -and Columbia a trapper, and at the Falls of St. Mary a fisherman. -He who is only a traveller learns things at secondhand and by the -halves, and is poor authority. We are most interested when science -reports what those men already know practically or instinctively, -for that alone is a true humanity, or account of human experience. -They mistake who assert that the Yankee has few amusements, -because he has not so many public holidays, and men and boys do not -play so many games as they do in England, for here the more -primitive but solitary amusements of hunting, fishing, and the like -have not yet given place to the former. Almost every New England -boy among my contemporaries shouldered a fowlingpiece between the -ages of ten and fourteen and his hunting and fishing grounds were -not limited, like the preserves of an English nobleman, but were -more boundless even than those of a savage. No wonder, then, that -he did not oftener stay to play on the common. But already a change -is taking place, owing, not to an increased humanity, but to an -increased scarcity of game, for perhaps the hunter is the greatest -friend of the animals hunted, not excepting the Humane Society. -Moreover, when at the pond, I wished sometimes to add fish to my -fare for variety. I have actually fished from the same kind of -necessity that the first fishers did. Whatever humanity I might -conjure up against it was all factitious, and concerned my -philosophy more than my feelings. I speak of fishing only now, for -I had long felt differently about fowling, and sold my gun before I -went to the woods. Not that I am less humane than others, but I did -not perceive that my feelings were much affected. I did not pity -the fishes nor the worms. This was habit. As for fowling, during -the last years that I carried a gun my excuse was that I was -studying ornithology, and sought only new or rare birds. But I -confess that I am now inclined to think that there is a finer way of -studying ornithology than this. It requires so much closer -attention to the habits of the birds, that, if for that reason only, -I have been willing to omit the gun. Yet notwithstanding the -objection on the score of humanity, I am compelled to doubt if -equally valuable sports are ever substituted for these and when -some of my friends have asked me anxiously about their boys, whether -they should let them hunt, I have answered, yes remembering that -it was one of the best parts of my education make them hunters, -though sportsmen only at first, if possible, mighty hunters at last, -so that they shall not find game large enough for them in this or -any vegetable wilderness hunters as well as fishers of men. Thus -far I am of the opinion of Chaucer's nun, who -"yave not of the text a pulled hen -That saith that hunters ben not holy men." -There is a period in the history of the individual, as of the race, -when the hunters are the "best men," as the Algonquins called them. -We cannot but pity the boy who has never fired a gun he is no more -humane, while his education has been sadly neglected. This was my -answer with respect to those youths who were bent on this pursuit, -trusting that they would soon outgrow it. No humane being, past the -thoughtless age of boyhood, will wantonly murder any creature which -holds its life by the same tenure that he does. The hare in its -extremity cries like a child. I warn you, mothers, that my -sympathies do not always make the usual philanthropic distinctions. -Such is oftenest the young man's introduction to the forest, and -the most original part of himself. He goes thither at first as a -hunter and fisher, until at last, if he has the seeds of a better -life in him, he distinguishes his proper objects, as a poet or -naturalist it may be, and leaves the gun and fishpole behind. The -mass of men are still and always young in this respect. In some -countries a hunting parson is no uncommon sight. Such a one might -make a good shepherd's dog, but is far from being the Good Shepherd. -I have been surprised to consider that the only obvious employment, -except woodchopping, icecutting, or the like business, which ever -to my knowledge detained at Walden Pond for a whole halfday any of -my fellowcitizens, whether fathers or children of the town, with -just one exception, was fishing. Commonly they did not think that -they were lucky, or well paid for their time, unless they got a long -string of fish, though they had the opportunity of seeing the pond -all the while. They might go there a thousand times before the -sediment of fishing would sink to the bottom and leave their purpose -pure but no doubt such a clarifying process would be going on all -the while. The Governor and his Council faintly remember the pond, -for they went afishing there when they were boys but now they are -too old and dignified to go afishing, and so they know it no more -forever. Yet even they expect to go to heaven at last. If the -legislature regards it, it is chiefly to regulate the number of -hooks to be used there but they know nothing about the hook of -hooks with which to angle for the pond itself, impaling the -legislature for a bait. Thus, even in civilized communities, the -embryo man passes through the hunter stage of development. -I have found repeatedly, of late years, that I cannot fish -without falling a little in selfrespect. I have tried it again and -again. I have skill at it, and, like many of my fellows, a certain -instinct for it, which revives from time to time, but always when I -have done I feel that it would have been better if I had not fished. -I think that I do not mistake. It is a faint intimation, yet so are -the first streaks of morning. There is unquestionably this instinct -in me which belongs to the lower orders of creation yet with every -year I am less a fisherman, though without more humanity or even -wisdom at present I am no fisherman at all. But I see that if I -were to live in a wilderness I should again be tempted to become a -fisher and hunter in earnest. Beside, there is something -essentially unclean about this diet and all flesh, and I began to -see where housework commences, and whence the endeavor, which costs -so much, to wear a tidy and respectable appearance each day, to keep -the house sweet and free from all ill odors and sights. Having been -my own butcher and scullion and cook, as well as the gentleman for -whom the dishes were served up, I can speak from an unusually -complete experience. The practical objection to animal food in my -case was its uncleanness and besides, when I had caught and cleaned -and cooked and eaten my fish, they seemed not to have fed me -essentially. It was insignificant and unnecessary, and cost more -than it came to. A little bread or a few potatoes would have done -as well, with less trouble and filth. Like many of my -contemporaries, I had rarely for many years used animal food, or -tea, or coffee, etc. not so much because of any ill effects which I -had traced to them, as because they were not agreeable to my -imagination. The repugnance to animal food is not the effect of -experience, but is an instinct. It appeared more beautiful to live -low and fare hard in many respects and though I never did so, I -went far enough to please my imagination. I believe that every man -who has ever been earnest to preserve his higher or poetic faculties -in the best condition has been particularly inclined to abstain from -animal food, and from much food of any kind. It is a significant -fact, stated by entomologists I find it in Kirby and Spence -that "some insects in their perfect state, though furnished with -organs of feeding, make no use of them" and they lay it down as "a -general rule, that almost all insects in this state eat much less -than in that of larvae. The voracious caterpillar when transformed -into a butterfly ... and the gluttonous maggot when become a fly" -content themselves with a drop or two of honey or some other sweet -liquid. The abdomen under the wings of the butterfly still -represents the larva. This is the tidbit which tempts his -insectivorous fate. The gross feeder is a man in the larva state -and there are whole nations in that condition, nations without fancy -or imagination, whose vast abdomens betray them. -It is hard to provide and cook so simple and clean a diet as -will not offend the imagination but this, I think, is to be fed -when we feed the body they should both sit down at the same table. -Yet perhaps this may be done. The fruits eaten temperately need not -make us ashamed of our appetites, nor interrupt the worthiest -pursuits. But put an extra condiment into your dish, and it will -poison you. It is not worth the while to live by rich cookery. -Most men would feel shame if caught preparing with their own hands -precisely such a dinner, whether of animal or vegetable food, as is -every day prepared for them by others. Yet till this is otherwise -we are not civilized, and, if gentlemen and ladies, are not true men -and women. This certainly suggests what change is to be made. It -may be vain to ask why the imagination will not be reconciled to -flesh and fat. I am satisfied that it is not. Is it not a reproach -that man is a carnivorous animal? True, he can and does live, in a -great measure, by preying on other animals but this is a miserable -way as any one who will go to snaring rabbits, or slaughtering -lambs, may learn and he will be regarded as a benefactor of his -race who shall teach man to confine himself to a more innocent and -wholesome diet. Whatever my own practice may be, I have no doubt -that it is a part of the destiny of the human race, in its gradual -improvement, to leave off eating animals, as surely as the savage -tribes have left off eating each other when they came in contact -with the more civilized. -If one listens to the faintest but constant suggestions of his -genius, which are certainly true, he sees not to what extremes, or -even insanity, it may lead him and yet that way, as he grows more -resolute and faithful, his road lies. The faintest assured -objection which one healthy man feels will at length prevail over -the arguments and customs of mankind. No man ever followed his -genius till it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, -yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be -regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. -If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and -life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweetscented herbs, is more -elastic, more starry, more immortal that is your success. All -nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to -bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from -being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon -forget them. They are the highest reality. Perhaps the facts most -astounding and most real are never communicated by man to man. The -true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and -indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little -stardust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. -Yet, for my part, I was never unusually squeamish I could -sometimes eat a fried rat with a good relish, if it were necessary. -I am glad to have drunk water so long, for the same reason that I -prefer the natural sky to an opiumeater's heaven. I would fain -keep sober always and there are infinite degrees of drunkenness. I -believe that water is the only drink for a wise man wine is not so -noble a liquor and think of dashing the hopes of a morning with a -cup of warm coffee, or of an evening with a dish of tea Ah, how -low I fall when I am tempted by them Even music may be -intoxicating. Such apparently slight causes destroyed Greece and -Rome, and will destroy England and America. Of all ebriosity, who -does not prefer to be intoxicated by the air he breathes? I have -found it to be the most serious objection to coarse labors long -continued, that they compelled me to eat and drink coarsely also. -But to tell the truth, I find myself at present somewhat less -particular in these respects. I carry less religion to the table, -ask no blessing not because I am wiser than I was, but, I am -obliged to confess, because, however much it is to be regretted, -with years I have grown more coarse and indifferent. Perhaps these -questions are entertained only in youth, as most believe of poetry. -My practice is "nowhere," my opinion is here. Nevertheless I am far -from regarding myself as one of those privileged ones to whom the -Ved refers when it says, that "he who has true faith in the -Omnipresent Supreme Being may eat all that exists," that is, is not -bound to inquire what is his food, or who prepares it and even in -their case it is to be observed, as a Hindoo commentator has -remarked, that the Vedant limits this privilege to "the time of -distress." -Who has not sometimes derived an inexpressible satisfaction from -his food in which appetite had no share? I have been thrilled to -think that I owed a mental perception to the commonly gross sense of -taste, that I have been inspired through the palate, that some -berries which I had eaten on a hillside had fed my genius. "The -soul not being mistress of herself," says Thsengtseu, "one looks, -and one does not see one listens, and one does not hear one eats, -and one does not know the savor of food." He who distinguishes the -true savor of his food can never be a glutton he who does not -cannot be otherwise. A puritan may go to his brownbread crust with -as gross an appetite as ever an alderman to his turtle. Not that -food which entereth into the mouth defileth a man, but the appetite -with which it is eaten. It is neither the quality nor the quantity, -but the devotion to sensual savors when that which is eaten is not -a viand to sustain our animal, or inspire our spiritual life, but -food for the worms that possess us. If the hunter has a taste for -mudturtles, muskrats, and other such savage tidbits, the fine lady -indulges a taste for jelly made of a calf's foot, or for sardines -from over the sea, and they are even. He goes to the millpond, she -to her preservepot. The wonder is how they, how you and I, can -live this slimy, beastly life, eating and drinking. -Our whole life is startlingly moral. There is never an -instant's truce between virtue and vice. Goodness is the only -investment that never fails. In the music of the harp which -trembles round the world it is the insisting on this which thrills -us. The harp is the travelling patterer for the Universe's -Insurance Company, recommending its laws, and our little goodness is -all the assessment that we pay. Though the youth at last grows -indifferent, the laws of the universe are not indifferent, but are -forever on the side of the most sensitive. Listen to every zephyr -for some reproof, for it is surely there, and he is unfortunate who -does not hear it. We cannot touch a string or move a stop but the -charming moral transfixes us. Many an irksome noise, go a long way -off, is heard as music, a proud, sweet satire on the meanness of our -lives. -We are conscious of an animal in us, which awakens in proportion -as our higher nature slumbers. It is reptile and sensual, and -perhaps cannot be wholly expelled like the worms which, even in -life and health, occupy our bodies. Possibly we may withdraw from -it, but never change its nature. I fear that it may enjoy a certain -health of its own that we may be well, yet not pure. The other day -I picked up the lower jaw of a hog, with white and sound teeth and -tusks, which suggested that there was an animal health and vigor -distinct from the spiritual. This creature succeeded by other means -than temperance and purity. "That in which men differ from brute -beasts," says Mencius, "is a thing very inconsiderable the common -herd lose it very soon superior men preserve it carefully." Who -knows what sort of life would result if we had attained to purity? -If I knew so wise a man as could teach me purity I would go to seek -him forthwith. "A command over our passions, and over the external -senses of the body, and good acts, are declared by the Ved to be -indispensable in the mind's approximation to God." Yet the spirit -can for the time pervade and control every member and function of -the body, and transmute what in form is the grossest sensuality -into purity and devotion. The generative energy, which, when we are -loose, dissipates and makes us unclean, when we are continent -invigorates and inspires us. Chastity is the flowering of man and -what are called Genius, Heroism, Holiness, and the like, are but -various fruits which succeed it. Man flows at once to God when the -channel of purity is open. By turns our purity inspires and our -impurity casts us down. He is blessed who is assured that the -animal is dying out in him day by day, and the divine being -established. Perhaps there is none but has cause for shame on -account of the inferior and brutish nature to which he is allied. I -fear that we are such gods or demigods only as fauns and satyrs, the -divine allied to beasts, the creatures of appetite, and that, to -some extent, our very life is our disgrace. -"How happy's he who hath due place assigned -To his beasts and disafforested his mind -Can use this horse, goat, wolf, and ev'ry beast, -And is not ass himself to all the rest -Else man not only is the herd of swine, -But he's those devils too which did incline -Them to a headlong rage, and made them worse." -All sensuality is one, though it takes many forms all purity is -one. It is the same whether a man eat, or drink, or cohabit, or -sleep sensually. They are but one appetite, and we only need to see -a person do any one of these things to know how great a sensualist -he is. The impure can neither stand nor sit with purity. When the -reptile is attacked at one mouth of his burrow, he shows himself at -another. If you would be chaste, you must be temperate. What is -chastity? How shall a man know if he is chaste? He shall not know -it. We have heard of this virtue, but we know not what it is. We -speak conformably to the rumor which we have heard. From exertion -come wisdom and purity from sloth ignorance and sensuality. In the -student sensuality is a sluggish habit of mind. An unclean person -is universally a slothful one, one who sits by a stove, whom the sun -shines on prostrate, who reposes without being fatigued. If you -would avoid uncleanness, and all the sins, work earnestly, though it -be at cleaning a stable. Nature is hard to be overcome, but she -must be overcome. What avails it that you are Christian, if you are -not purer than the heathen, if you deny yourself no more, if you are -not more religious? I know of many systems of religion esteemed -heathenish whose precepts fill the reader with shame, and provoke -him to new endeavors, though it be to the performance of rites -merely. -I hesitate to say these things, but it is not because of the -subject I care not how obscene my words are but because I -cannot speak of them without betraying my impurity. We discourse -freely without shame of one form of sensuality, and are silent about -another. We are so degraded that we cannot speak simply of the -necessary functions of human nature. In earlier ages, in some -countries, every function was reverently spoken of and regulated by -law. Nothing was too trivial for the Hindoo lawgiver, however -offensive it may be to modern taste. He teaches how to eat, drink, -cohabit, void excrement and urine, and the like, elevating what is -mean, and does not falsely excuse himself by calling these things -trifles. -Every man is the builder of a temple, called his body, to the -god he worships, after a style purely his own, nor can he get off by -hammering marble instead. We are all sculptors and painters, and -our material is our own flesh and blood and bones. Any nobleness -begins at once to refine a man's features, any meanness or -sensuality to imbrute them. -John Farmer sat at his door one September evening, after a hard -day's work, his mind still running on his labor more or less. -Having bathed, he sat down to recreate his intellectual man. It -was a rather cool evening, and some of his neighbors were -apprehending a frost. He had not attended to the train of his -thoughts long when he heard some one playing on a flute, and that -sound harmonized with his mood. Still he thought of his work but -the burden of his thought was, that though this kept running in his -head, and he found himself planning and contriving it against his -will, yet it concerned him very little. It was no more than the -scurf of his skin, which was constantly shuffled off. But the notes -of the flute came home to his ears out of a different sphere from -that he worked in, and suggested work for certain faculties which -slumbered in him. They gently did away with the street, and the -village, and the state in which he lived. A voice said to him -Why do you stay here and live this mean moiling life, when a -glorious existence is possible for you? Those same stars twinkle -over other fields than these. But how to come out of this -condition and actually migrate thither? All that he could think of -was to practise some new austerity, to let his mind descend into his -body and redeem it, and treat himself with ever increasing respect. -Brute Neighbors -Sometimes I had a companion in my fishing, who came through the -village to my house from the other side of the town, and the -catching of the dinner was as much a social exercise as the eating -of it. -Hermit. I wonder what the world is doing now. I have not heard -so much as a locust over the sweetfern these three hours. The -pigeons are all asleep upon their roosts no flutter from them. -Was that a farmer's noon horn which sounded from beyond the woods -just now? The hands are coming in to boiled salt beef and cider and -Indian bread. Why will men worry themselves so? He that does not -eat need not work. I wonder how much they have reaped. Who would -live there where a body can never think for the barking of Bose? -And oh, the housekeeping to keep bright the devil's doorknobs, and -scour his tubs this bright day Better not keep a house. Say, some -hollow tree and then for morning calls and dinnerparties Only a -woodpecker tapping. Oh, they swarm the sun is too warm there they -are born too far into life for me. I have water from the spring, -and a loaf of brown bread on the shelf. Hark I hear a rustling -of the leaves. Is it some illfed village hound yielding to the -instinct of the chase? or the lost pig which is said to be in these -woods, whose tracks I saw after the rain? It comes on apace my -sumachs and sweetbriers tremble. Eh, Mr. Poet, is it you? How do -you like the world today? -Poet. See those clouds how they hang That's the greatest -thing I have seen today. There's nothing like it in old paintings, -nothing like it in foreign lands unless when we were off the -coast of Spain. That's a true Mediterranean sky. I thought, as I -have my living to get, and have not eaten today, that I might go -afishing. That's the true industry for poets. It is the only -trade I have learned. Come, let's along. -Hermit. I cannot resist. My brown bread will soon be gone. I -will go with you gladly soon, but I am just concluding a serious -meditation. I think that I am near the end of it. Leave me alone, -then, for a while. But that we may not be delayed, you shall be -digging the bait meanwhile. Angleworms are rarely to be met with in -these parts, where the soil was never fattened with manure the race -is nearly extinct. The sport of digging the bait is nearly equal to -that of catching the fish, when one's appetite is not too keen and -this you may have all to yourself today. I would advise you to set -in the spade down yonder among the groundnuts, where you see the -johnswort waving. I think that I may warrant you one worm to every -three sods you turn up, if you look well in among the roots of the -grass, as if you were weeding. Or, if you choose to go farther, it -will not be unwise, for I have found the increase of fair bait to be -very nearly as the squares of the distances. -Hermit alone. Let me see where was I? Methinks I was nearly -in this frame of mind the world lay about at this angle. Shall I -go to heaven or afishing? If I should soon bring this meditation -to an end, would another so sweet occasion be likely to offer? I -was as near being resolved into the essence of things as ever I was -in my life. I fear my thoughts will not come back to me. If it -would do any good, I would whistle for them. When they make us an -offer, is it wise to say, We will think of it? My thoughts have -left no track, and I cannot find the path again. What was it that I -was thinking of? It was a very hazy day. I will just try these -three sentences of Confutsee they may fetch that state about again. -I know not whether it was the dumps or a budding ecstasy. Mem. -There never is but one opportunity of a kind. -Poet. How now, Hermit, is it too soon? I have got just -thirteen whole ones, beside several which are imperfect or -undersized but they will do for the smaller fry they do not cover -up the hook so much. Those village worms are quite too large a -shiner may make a meal off one without finding the skewer. -Hermit. Well, then, let's be off. Shall we to the Concord? -There's good sport there if the water be not too high. -Why do precisely these objects which we behold make a world? -Why has man just these species of animals for his neighbors as if -nothing but a mouse could have filled this crevice? I suspect that -Pilpay Co. have put animals to their best use, for they are all -beasts of burden, in a sense, made to carry some portion of our -thoughts. -The mice which haunted my house were not the common ones, which -are said to have been introduced into the country, but a wild native -kind not found in the village. I sent one to a distinguished -naturalist, and it interested him much. When I was building, one of -these had its nest underneath the house, and before I had laid the -second floor, and swept out the shavings, would come out regularly -at lunch time and pick up the crumbs at my feet. It probably had -never seen a man before and it soon became quite familiar, and -would run over my shoes and up my clothes. It could readily ascend -the sides of the room by short impulses, like a squirrel, which it -resembled in its motions. At length, as I leaned with my elbow on -the bench one day, it ran up my clothes, and along my sleeve, and -round and round the paper which held my dinner, while I kept the -latter close, and dodged and played at bopeep with it and when at -last I held still a piece of cheese between my thumb and finger, it -came and nibbled it, sitting in my hand, and afterward cleaned its -face and paws, like a fly, and walked away. -A phoebe soon built in my shed, and a robin for protection in a -pine which grew against the house. In June the partridge Tetrao -umbellus, which is so shy a bird, led her brood past my windows, -from the woods in the rear to the front of my house, clucking and -calling to them like a hen, and in all her behavior proving herself -the hen of the woods. The young suddenly disperse on your approach, -at a signal from the mother, as if a whirlwind had swept them away, -and they so exactly resemble the dried leaves and twigs that many a -traveler has placed his foot in the midst of a brood, and heard the -whir of the old bird as she flew off, and her anxious calls and -mewing, or seen her trail her wings to attract his attention, -without suspecting their neighborhood. The parent will sometimes -roll and spin round before you in such a dishabille, that you -cannot, for a few moments, detect what kind of creature it is. The -young squat still and flat, often running their heads under a leaf, -and mind only their mother's directions given from a distance, nor -will your approach make them run again and betray themselves. You -may even tread on them, or have your eyes on them for a minute, -without discovering them. I have held them in my open hand at such -a time, and still their only care, obedient to their mother and -their instinct, was to squat there without fear or trembling. So -perfect is this instinct, that once, when I had laid them on the -leaves again, and one accidentally fell on its side, it was found -with the rest in exactly the same position ten minutes afterward. -They are not callow like the young of most birds, but more perfectly -developed and precocious even than chickens. The remarkably adult -yet innocent expression of their open and serene eyes is very -memorable. All intelligence seems reflected in them. They suggest -not merely the purity of infancy, but a wisdom clarified by -experience. Such an eye was not born when the bird was, but is -coeval with the sky it reflects. The woods do not yield another -such a gem. The traveller does not often look into such a limpid -well. The ignorant or reckless sportsman often shoots the parent at -such a time, and leaves these innocents to fall a prey to some -prowling beast or bird, or gradually mingle with the decaying leaves -which they so much resemble. It is said that when hatched by a hen -they will directly disperse on some alarm, and so are lost, for they -never hear the mother's call which gathers them again. These were -my hens and chickens. -It is remarkable how many creatures live wild and free though -secret in the woods, and still sustain themselves in the -neighborhood of towns, suspected by hunters only. How retired the -otter manages to live here He grows to be four feet long, as big -as a small boy, perhaps without any human being getting a glimpse of -him. I formerly saw the raccoon in the woods behind where my house -is built, and probably still heard their whinnering at night. -Commonly I rested an hour or two in the shade at noon, after -planting, and ate my lunch, and read a little by a spring which was -the source of a swamp and of a brook, oozing from under Brister's -Hill, half a mile from my field. The approach to this was through a -succession of descending grassy hollows, full of young pitch pines, -into a larger wood about the swamp. There, in a very secluded and -shaded spot, under a spreading white pine, there was yet a clean, -firm sward to sit on. I had dug out the spring and made a well of -clear gray water, where I could dip up a pailful without roiling it, -and thither I went for this purpose almost every day in midsummer, -when the pond was warmest. Thither, too, the woodcock led her -brood, to probe the mud for worms, flying but a foot above them down -the bank, while they ran in a troop beneath but at last, spying me, -she would leave her young and circle round and round me, nearer and -nearer till within four or five feet, pretending broken wings and -legs, to attract my attention, and get off her young, who would -already have taken up their march, with faint, wiry peep, single -file through the swamp, as she directed. Or I heard the peep of the -young when I could not see the parent bird. There too the turtle -doves sat over the spring, or fluttered from bough to bough of the -soft white pines over my head or the red squirrel, coursing down -the nearest bough, was particularly familiar and inquisitive. You -only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods -that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns. -I was witness to events of a less peaceful character. One day -when I went out to my woodpile, or rather my pile of stumps, I -observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly -half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another. -Having once got hold they never let go, but struggled and wrestled -and rolled on the chips incessantly. Looking farther, I was -surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants, -that it was not a duellum, but a bellum, a war between two races of -ants, the red always pitted against the black, and frequently two -red ones to one black. The legions of these Myrmidons covered all -the hills and vales in my woodyard, and the ground was already -strewn with the dead and dying, both red and black. It was the only -battle which I have ever witnessed, the only battlefield I ever -trod while the battle was raging internecine war the red -republicans on the one hand, and the black imperialists on the -other. On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet -without any noise that I could hear, and human soldiers never fought -so resolutely. I watched a couple that were fast locked in each -other's embraces, in a little sunny valley amid the chips, now at -noonday prepared to fight till the sun went down, or life went out. -The smaller red champion had fastened himself like a vice to his -adversary's front, and through all the tumblings on that field never -for an instant ceased to gnaw at one of his feelers near the root, -having already caused the other to go by the board while the -stronger black one dashed him from side to side, and, as I saw on -looking nearer, had already divested him of several of his members. -They fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs. Neither manifested -the least disposition to retreat. It was evident that their -battlecry was "Conquer or die." In the meanwhile there came along -a single red ant on the hillside of this valley, evidently full of -excitement, who either had despatched his foe, or had not yet taken -part in the battle probably the latter, for he had lost none of his -limbs whose mother had charged him to return with his shield or -upon it. Or perchance he was some Achilles, who had nourished his -wrath apart, and had now come to avenge or rescue his Patroclus. He -saw this unequal combat from afar for the blacks were nearly -twice the size of the red he drew near with rapid pace till be -stood on his guard within half an inch of the combatants then, -watching his opportunity, he sprang upon the black warrior, and -commenced his operations near the root of his right fore leg, -leaving the foe to select among his own members and so there were -three united for life, as if a new kind of attraction had been -invented which put all other locks and cements to shame. I should -not have wondered by this time to find that they had their -respective musical bands stationed on some eminent chip, and playing -their national airs the while, to excite the slow and cheer the -dying combatants. I was myself excited somewhat even as if they had -been men. The more you think of it, the less the difference. And -certainly there is not the fight recorded in Concord history, at -least, if in the history of America, that will bear a moment's -comparison with this, whether for the numbers engaged in it, or for -the patriotism and heroism displayed. For numbers and for carnage -it was an Austerlitz or Dresden. Concord Fight Two killed on the -patriots' side, and Luther Blanchard wounded Why here every ant -was a Buttrick "Fire for God's sake fire" and thousands -shared the fate of Davis and Hosmer. There was not one hireling -there. I have no doubt that it was a principle they fought for, as -much as our ancestors, and not to avoid a threepenny tax on their -tea and the results of this battle will be as important and -memorable to those whom it concerns as those of the battle of Bunker -Hill, at least. -I took up the chip on which the three I have particularly -described were struggling, carried it into my house, and placed it -under a tumbler on my windowsill, in order to see the issue. -Holding a microscope to the firstmentioned red ant, I saw that, -though he was assiduously gnawing at the near fore leg of his enemy, -having severed his remaining feeler, his own breast was all torn -away, exposing what vitals he had there to the jaws of the black -warrior, whose breastplate was apparently too thick for him to -pierce and the dark carbuncles of the sufferer's eyes shone with -ferocity such as war only could excite. They struggled half an hour -longer under the tumbler, and when I looked again the black soldier -had severed the heads of his foes from their bodies, and the still -living heads were hanging on either side of him like ghastly -trophies at his saddlebow, still apparently as firmly fastened as -ever, and he was endeavoring with feeble struggles, being without -feelers and with only the remnant of a leg, and I know not how many -other wounds, to divest himself of them which at length, after half -an hour more, he accomplished. I raised the glass, and he went off -over the windowsill in that crippled state. Whether he finally -survived that combat, and spent the remainder of his days in some -Hotel des Invalides, I do not know but I thought that his industry -would not be worth much thereafter. I never learned which party was -victorious, nor the cause of the war but I felt for the rest of -that day as if I had had my feelings excited and harrowed by -witnessing the struggle, the ferocity and carnage, of a human battle -before my door. -Kirby and Spence tell us that the battles of ants have long been -celebrated and the date of them recorded, though they say that Huber -is the only modern author who appears to have witnessed them. -"AEneas Sylvius," say they, "after giving a very circumstantial -account of one contested with great obstinacy by a great and small -species on the trunk of a pear tree," adds that "this action was -fought in the pontificate of Eugenius the Fourth, in the presence of -Nicholas Pistoriensis, an eminent lawyer, who related the whole, -history of the battle with the greatest fidelity." A similar -engagement between great and small ants is recorded by Olaus Magnus, -in which the small ones, being victorious, are said to have buried -the bodies of their own soldiers, but left those of their giant -enemies a prey to the birds. This event happened previous to the -expulsion of the tyrant Christiern the Second from Sweden." The -battle which I witnessed took place in the Presidency of Polk, five -years before the passage of Webster's FugitiveSlave Bill. -Many a village Bose, fit only to course a mudturtle in a -victualling cellar, sported his heavy quarters in the woods, without -the knowledge of his master, and ineffectually smelled at old fox -burrows and woodchucks' holes led perchance by some slight cur -which nimbly threaded the wood, and might still inspire a natural -terror in its denizens now far behind his guide, barking like a -canine bull toward some small squirrel which had treed itself for -scrutiny, then, cantering off, bending the bushes with his weight, -imagining that he is on the track of some stray member of the -jerbilla family. Once I was surprised to see a cat walking along -the stony shore of the pond, for they rarely wander so far from -home. The surprise was mutual. Nevertheless the most domestic cat, -which has lain on a rug all her days, appears quite at home in the -woods, and, by her sly and stealthy behavior, proves herself more -native there than the regular inhabitants. Once, when berrying, I -met with a cat with young kittens in the woods, quite wild, and they -all, like their mother, had their backs up and were fiercely -spitting at me. A few years before I lived in the woods there was -what was called a "winged cat" in one of the farmhouses in Lincoln -nearest the pond, Mr. Gilian Baker's. When I called to see her in -June, , she was gone ahunting in the woods, as was her wont I -am not sure whether it was a male or female, and so use the more -common pronoun, but her mistress told me that she came into the -neighborhood a little more than a year before, in April, and was -finally taken into their house that she was of a dark brownishgray -color, with a white spot on her throat, and white feet, and had a -large bushy tail like a fox that in the winter the fur grew thick -and flatted out along her sides, forming stripes ten or twelve -inches long by two and a half wide, and under her chin like a muff, -the upper side loose, the under matted like felt, and in the spring -these appendages dropped off. They gave me a pair of her "wings," -which I keep still. There is no appearance of a membrane about -them. Some thought it was part flying squirrel or some other wild -animal, which is not impossible, for, according to naturalists, -prolific hybrids have been produced by the union of the marten and -domestic cat. This would have been the right kind of cat for me to -keep, if I had kept any for why should not a poet's cat be winged -as well as his horse? -In the fall the loon Colymbus glacialis came, as usual, to -moult and bathe in the pond, making the woods ring with his wild -laughter before I had risen. At rumor of his arrival all the -Milldam sportsmen are on the alert, in gigs and on foot, two by two -and three by three, with patent rifles and conical balls and -spyglasses. They come rustling through the woods like autumn -leaves, at least ten men to one loon. Some station themselves on -this side of the pond, some on that, for the poor bird cannot be -omnipresent if he dive here he must come up there. But now the -kind October wind rises, rustling the leaves and rippling the -surface of the water, so that no loon can be heard or seen, though -his foes sweep the pond with spyglasses, and make the woods resound -with their discharges. The waves generously rise and dash angrily, -taking sides with all waterfowl, and our sportsmen must beat a -retreat to town and shop and unfinished jobs. But they were too -often successful. When I went to get a pail of water early in the -morning I frequently saw this stately bird sailing out of my cove -within a few rods. If I endeavored to overtake him in a boat, in -order to see how he would manoeuvre, he would dive and be completely -lost, so that I did not discover him again, sometimes, till the -latter part of the day. But I was more than a match for him on the -surface. He commonly went off in a rain. -As I was paddling along the north shore one very calm October -afternoon, for such days especially they settle on to the lakes, -like the milkweed down, having looked in vain over the pond for a -loon, suddenly one, sailing out from the shore toward the middle a -few rods in front of me, set up his wild laugh and betrayed himself. -I pursued with a paddle and he dived, but when he came up I was -nearer than before. He dived again, but I miscalculated the -direction he would take, and we were fifty rods apart when he came -to the surface this time, for I had helped to widen the interval -and again he laughed long and loud, and with more reason than -before. He manoeuvred so cunningly that I could not get within half -a dozen rods of him. Each time, when he came to the surface, -turning his head this way and that, he cooly surveyed the water and -the land, and apparently chose his course so that he might come up -where there was the widest expanse of water and at the greatest -distance from the boat. It was surprising how quickly he made up -his mind and put his resolve into execution. He led me at once to -the widest part of the pond, and could not be driven from it. While -he was thinking one thing in his brain, I was endeavoring to divine -his thought in mine. It was a pretty game, played on the smooth -surface of the pond, a man against a loon. Suddenly your -adversary's checker disappears beneath the board, and the problem is -to place yours nearest to where his will appear again. Sometimes he -would come up unexpectedly on the opposite side of me, having -apparently passed directly under the boat. So longwinded was he -and so unweariable, that when he had swum farthest he would -immediately plunge again, nevertheless and then no wit could divine -where in the deep pond, beneath the smooth surface, he might be -speeding his way like a fish, for he had time and ability to visit -the bottom of the pond in its deepest part. It is said that loons -have been caught in the New York lakes eighty feet beneath the -surface, with hooks set for trout though Walden is deeper than -that. How surprised must the fishes be to see this ungainly visitor -from another sphere speeding his way amid their schools Yet he -appeared to know his course as surely under water as on the surface, -and swam much faster there. Once or twice I saw a ripple where he -approached the surface, just put his head out to reconnoitre, and -instantly dived again. I found that it was as well for me to rest -on my oars and wait his reappearing as to endeavor to calculate -where he would rise for again and again, when I was straining my -eyes over the surface one way, I would suddenly be startled by his -unearthly laugh behind me. But why, after displaying so much -cunning, did he invariably betray himself the moment he came up by -that loud laugh? Did not his white breast enough betray him? He -was indeed a silly loon, I thought. I could commonly hear the -splash of the water when he came up, and so also detected him. But -after an hour he seemed as fresh as ever, dived as willingly, and -swam yet farther than at first. It was surprising to see how -serenely he sailed off with unruffled breast when he came to the -surface, doing all the work with his webbed feet beneath. His usual -note was this demoniac laughter, yet somewhat like that of a -waterfowl but occasionally, when he had balked me most -successfully and come up a long way off, he uttered a longdrawn -unearthly howl, probably more like that of a wolf than any bird as -when a beast puts his muzzle to the ground and deliberately howls. -This was his looning perhaps the wildest sound that is ever heard -here, making the woods ring far and wide. I concluded that he -laughed in derision of my efforts, confident of his own resources. -Though the sky was by this time overcast, the pond was so smooth -that I could see where he broke the surface when I did not hear him. -His white breast, the stillness of the air, and the smoothness of -the water were all against him. At length having come up fifty rods -off, he uttered one of those prolonged howls, as if calling on the -god of loons to aid him, and immediately there came a wind from the -east and rippled the surface, and filled the whole air with misty -rain, and I was impressed as if it were the prayer of the loon -answered, and his god was angry with me and so I left him -disappearing far away on the tumultuous surface. -For hours, in fall days, I watched the ducks cunningly tack and -veer and hold the middle of the pond, far from the sportsman tricks -which they will have less need to practise in Louisiana bayous. -When compelled to rise they would sometimes circle round and round -and over the pond at a considerable height, from which they could -easily see to other ponds and the river, like black motes in the -sky and, when I thought they had gone off thither long since, they -would settle down by a slanting flight of a quarter of a mile on to -a distant part which was left free but what beside safety they got -by sailing in the middle of Walden I do not know, unless they love -its water for the same reason that I do. -HouseWarming -In October I went agraping to the river meadows, and loaded -myself with clusters more precious for their beauty and fragrance -than for food. There, too, I admired, though I did not gather, the -cranberries, small waxen gems, pendants of the meadow grass, pearly -and red, which the farmer plucks with an ugly rake, leaving the -smooth meadow in a snarl, heedlessly measuring them by the bushel -and the dollar only, and sells the spoils of the meads to Boston and -New York destined to be jammed, to satisfy the tastes of lovers of -Nature there. So butchers rake the tongues of bison out of the -prairie grass, regardless of the torn and drooping plant. The -barberry's brilliant fruit was likewise food for my eyes merely but -I collected a small store of wild apples for coddling, which the -proprietor and travellers had overlooked. When chestnuts were ripe -I laid up half a bushel for winter. It was very exciting at that -season to roam the then boundless chestnut woods of Lincoln they -now sleep their long sleep under the railroad with a bag on my -shoulder, and a stick to open burs with in my hand, for I did not -always wait for the frost, amid the rustling of leaves and the loud -reproofs of the red squirrels and the jays, whose halfconsumed nuts -I sometimes stole, for the burs which they had selected were sure to -contain sound ones. Occasionally I climbed and shook the trees. -They grew also behind my house, and one large tree, which almost -overshadowed it, was, when in flower, a bouquet which scented the -whole neighborhood, but the squirrels and the jays got most of its -fruit the last coming in flocks early in the morning and picking -the nuts out of the burs before they fell, I relinquished these -trees to them and visited the more distant woods composed wholly of -chestnut. These nuts, as far as they went, were a good substitute -for bread. Many other substitutes might, perhaps, be found. -Digging one day for fishworms, I discovered the groundnut Apios -tuberosa on its string, the potato of the aborigines, a sort of -fabulous fruit, which I had begun to doubt if I had ever dug and -eaten in childhood, as I had told, and had not dreamed it. I had -often since seen its crumpled red velvety blossom supported by the -stems of other plants without knowing it to be the same. -Cultivation has wellnigh exterminated it. It has a sweetish taste, -much like that of a frostbitten potato, and I found it better -boiled than roasted. This tuber seemed like a faint promise of -Nature to rear her own children and feed them simply here at some -future period. In these days of fatted cattle and waving -grainfields this humble root, which was once the totem of an Indian -tribe, is quite forgotten, or known only by its flowering vine but -let wild Nature reign here once more, and the tender and luxurious -English grains will probably disappear before a myriad of foes, and -without the care of man the crow may carry back even the last seed -of corn to the great cornfield of the Indian's God in the southwest, -whence he is said to have brought it but the now almost -exterminated groundnut will perhaps revive and flourish in spite of -frosts and wildness, prove itself indigenous, and resume its ancient -importance and dignity as the diet of the hunter tribe. Some Indian -Ceres or Minerva must have been the inventor and bestower of it and -when the reign of poetry commences here, its leaves and string of -nuts may be represented on our works of art. -Already, by the first of September, I had seen two or three -small maples turned scarlet across the pond, beneath where the white -stems of three aspens diverged, at the point of a promontory, next -the water. Ah, many a tale their color told And gradually from -week to week the character of each tree came out, and it admired -itself reflected in the smooth mirror of the lake. Each morning the -manager of this gallery substituted some new picture, distinguished -by more brilliant or harmonious coloring, for the old upon the -walls. -The wasps came by thousands to my lodge in October, as to winter -quarters, and settled on my windows within and on the walls -overhead, sometimes deterring visitors from entering. Each morning, -when they were numbed with cold, I swept some of them out, but I did -not trouble myself much to get rid of them I even felt complimented -by their regarding my house as a desirable shelter. They never -molested me seriously, though they bedded with me and they -gradually disappeared, into what crevices I do not know, avoiding -winter and unspeakable cold. -Like the wasps, before I finally went into winter quarters in -November, I used to resort to the northeast side of Walden, which -the sun, reflected from the pitch pine woods and the stony shore, -made the fireside of the pond it is so much pleasanter and -wholesomer to be warmed by the sun while you can be, than by an -artificial fire. I thus warmed myself by the still glowing embers -which the summer, like a departed hunter, had left. -When I came to build my chimney I studied masonry. My bricks, -being secondhand ones, required to be cleaned with a trowel, so -that I learned more than usual of the qualities of bricks and -trowels. The mortar on them was fifty years old, and was said to be -still growing harder but this is one of those sayings which men -love to repeat whether they are true or not. Such sayings -themselves grow harder and adhere more firmly with age, and it would -take many blows with a trowel to clean an old wiseacre of them. -Many of the villages of Mesopotamia are built of secondhand bricks -of a very good quality, obtained from the ruins of Babylon, and the -cement on them is older and probably harder still. However that may -be, I was struck by the peculiar toughness of the steel which bore -so many violent blows without being worn out. As my bricks had been -in a chimney before, though I did not read the name of -Nebuchadnezzar on them, I picked out its many fireplace bricks as I -could find, to save work and waste, and I filled the spaces between -the bricks about the fireplace with stones from the pond shore, and -also made my mortar with the white sand from the same place. I -lingered most about the fireplace, as the most vital part of the -house. Indeed, I worked so deliberately, that though I commenced at -the ground in the morning, a course of bricks raised a few inches -above the floor served for my pillow at night yet I did not get a -stiff neck for it that I remember my stiff neck is of older date. -I took a poet to board for a fortnight about those times, which -caused me to be put to it for room. He brought his own knife, -though I had two, and we used to scour them by thrusting them into -the earth. He shared with me the labors of cooking. I was pleased -to see my work rising so square and solid by degrees, and reflected, -that, if it proceeded slowly, it was calculated to endure a long -time. The chimney is to some extent an independent structure, -standing on the ground, and rising through the house to the heavens -even after the house is burned it still stands sometimes, and its -importance and independence are apparent. This was toward the end -of summer. It was now November. -The north wind had already begun to cool the pond, though it -took many weeks of steady blowing to accomplish it, it is so deep. -When I began to have a fire at evening, before I plastered my house, -the chimney carried smoke particularly well, because of the numerous -chinks between the boards. Yet I passed some cheerful evenings in -that cool and airy apartment, surrounded by the rough brown boards -full of knots, and rafters with the bark on high overhead. My house -never pleased my eye so much after it was plastered, though I was -obliged to confess that it was more comfortable. Should not every -apartment in which man dwells be lofty enough to create some -obscurity overhead, where flickering shadows may play at evening -about the rafters? These forms are more agreeable to the fancy and -imagination than fresco paintings or other the most expensive -furniture. I now first began to inhabit my house, I may say, when I -began to use it for warmth as well as shelter. I had got a couple -of old firedogs to keep the wood from the hearth, and it did me -good to see the soot form on the back of the chimney which I had -built, and I poked the fire with more right and more satisfaction -than usual. My dwelling was small, and I could hardly entertain an -echo in it but it seemed larger for being a single apartment and -remote from neighbors. All the attractions of a house were -concentrated in one room it was kitchen, chamber, parlor, and -keepingroom and whatever satisfaction parent or child, master or -servant, derive from living in a house, I enjoyed it all. Cato -says, the master of a family patremfamilias must have in his -rustic villa "cellam oleariam, vinariam, dolia multa, uti lubeat -caritatem expectare, et rei, et virtuti, et gloriae erit," that is, -"an oil and wine cellar, many casks, so that it may be pleasant to -expect hard times it will be for his advantage, and virtue, and -glory." I had in my cellar a firkin of potatoes, about two quarts -of peas with the weevil in them, and on my shelf a little rice, a -jug of molasses, and of rye and Indian meal a peck each. -I sometimes dream of a larger and more populous house, standing -in a golden age, of enduring materials, and without gingerbread -work, which shall still consist of only one room, a vast, rude, -substantial, primitive hall, without ceiling or plastering, with -bare rafters and purlins supporting a sort of lower heaven over -one's head useful to keep off rain and snow, where the king and -queen posts stand out to receive your homage, when you have done -reverence to the prostrate Saturn of an older dynasty on stepping -over the sill a cavernous house, wherein you must reach up a torch -upon a pole to see the roof where some may live in the fireplace, -some in the recess of a window, and some on settles, some at one end -of the hall, some at another, and some aloft on rafters with the -spiders, if they choose a house which you have got into when you -have opened the outside door, and the ceremony is over where the -weary traveller may wash, and eat, and converse, and sleep, without -further journey such a shelter as you would be glad to reach in a -tempestuous night, containing all the essentials of a house, and -nothing for housekeeping where you can see all the treasures of -the house at one view, and everything hangs upon its peg, that a man -should use at once kitchen, pantry, parlor, chamber, storehouse, -and garret where you can see so necessary a thing, as a barrel or a -ladder, so convenient a thing as a cupboard, and hear the pot boil, -and pay your respects to the fire that cooks your dinner, and the -oven that bakes your bread, and the necessary furniture and utensils -are the chief ornaments where the washing is not put out, nor the -fire, nor the mistress, and perhaps you are sometimes requested to -move from off the trapdoor, when the cook would descend into the -cellar, and so learn whether the ground is solid or hollow beneath -you without stamping. A house whose inside is as open and manifest -as a bird's nest, and you cannot go in at the front door and out at -the back without seeing some of its inhabitants where to be a guest -is to be presented with the freedom of the house, and not to be -carefully excluded from seven eighths of it, shut up in a particular -cell, and told to make yourself at home there in solitary -confinement. Nowadays the host does not admit you to his hearth, -but has got the mason to build one for yourself somewhere in his -alley, and hospitality is the art of keeping you at the greatest -distance. There is as much secrecy about the cooking as if he had a -design to poison you. I am aware that I have been on many a man's -premises, and might have been legally ordered off, but I am not -aware that I have been in many men's houses. I might visit in my -old clothes a king and queen who lived simply in such a house as I -have described, if I were going their way but backing out of a -modern palace will be all that I shall desire to learn, if ever I am -caught in one. -It would seem as if the very language of our parlors would lose -all its nerve and degenerate into palaver wholly, our lives pass at -such remoteness from its symbols, and its metaphors and tropes are -necessarily so far fetched, through slides and dumbwaiters, as it -were in other words, the parlor is so far from the kitchen and -workshop. The dinner even is only the parable of a dinner, -commonly. As if only the savage dwelt near enough to Nature and -Truth to borrow a trope from them. How can the scholar, who dwells -away in the North West Territory or the Isle of Man, tell what is -parliamentary in the kitchen? -However, only one or two of my guests were ever bold enough to -stay and eat a hastypudding with me but when they saw that crisis -approaching they beat a hasty retreat rather, as if it would shake -the house to its foundations. Nevertheless, it stood through a -great many hastypuddings. -I did not plaster till it was freezing weather. I brought over -some whiter and cleaner sand for this purpose from the opposite -shore of the pond in a boat, a sort of conveyance which would have -tempted me to go much farther if necessary. My house had in the -meanwhile been shingled down to the ground on every side. In -lathing I was pleased to be able to send home each nail with a -single blow of the hammer, and it was my ambition to transfer the -plaster from the board to the wall neatly and rapidly. I remembered -the story of a conceited fellow, who, in fine clothes, was wont to -lounge about the village once, giving advice to workmen. Venturing -one day to substitute deeds for words, he turned up his cuffs, -seized a plasterer's board, and having loaded his trowel without -mishap, with a complacent look toward the lathing overhead, made a -bold gesture thitherward and straightway, to his complete -discomfiture, received the whole contents in his ruffled bosom. I -admired anew the economy and convenience of plastering, which so -effectually shuts out the cold and takes a handsome finish, and I -learned the various casualties to which the plasterer is liable. I -was surprised to see how thirsty the bricks were which drank up all -the moisture in my plaster before I had smoothed it, and how many -pailfuls of water it takes to christen a new hearth. I had the -previous winter made a small quantity of lime by burning the shells -of the Unio fluviatilis, which our river affords, for the sake of -the experiment so that I knew where my materials came from. I -might have got good limestone within a mile or two and burned it -myself, if I had cared to do so. -The pond had in the meanwhile skimmed over in the shadiest and -shallowest coves, some days or even weeks before the general -freezing. The first ice is especially interesting and perfect, -being hard, dark, and transparent, and affords the best opportunity -that ever offers for examining the bottom where it is shallow for -you can lie at your length on ice only an inch thick, like a skater -insect on the surface of the water, and study the bottom at your -leisure, only two or three inches distant, like a picture behind a -glass, and the water is necessarily always smooth then. There are -many furrows in the sand where some creature has travelled about and -doubled on its tracks and, for wrecks, it is strewn with the cases -of caddisworms made of minute grains of white quartz. Perhaps -these have creased it, for you find some of their cases in the -furrows, though they are deep and broad for them to make. But the -ice itself is the object of most interest, though you must improve -the earliest opportunity to study it. If you examine it closely the -morning after it freezes, you find that the greater part of the -bubbles, which at first appeared to be within it, are against its -under surface, and that more are continually rising from the bottom -while the ice is as yet comparatively solid and dark, that is, you -see the water through it. These bubbles are from an eightieth to an -eighth of an inch in diameter, very clear and beautiful, and you see -your face reflected in them through the ice. There may be thirty or -forty of them to a square inch. There are also already within the -ice narrow oblong perpendicular bubbles about half an inch long, -sharp cones with the apex upward or oftener, if the ice is quite -fresh, minute spherical bubbles one directly above another, like a -string of beads. But these within the ice are not so numerous nor -obvious as those beneath. I sometimes used to cast on stones to try -the strength of the ice, and those which broke through carried in -air with them, which formed very large and conspicuous white bubbles -beneath. One day when I came to the same place fortyeight hours -afterward, I found that those large bubbles were still perfect, -though an inch more of ice had formed, as I could see distinctly by -the seam in the edge of a cake. But as the last two days had been -very warm, like an Indian summer, the ice was not now transparent, -showing the dark green color of the water, and the bottom, but -opaque and whitish or gray, and though twice as thick was hardly -stronger than before, for the air bubbles had greatly expanded under -this heat and run together, and lost their regularity they were no -longer one directly over another, but often like silvery coins -poured from a bag, one overlapping another, or in thin flakes, as if -occupying slight cleavages. The beauty of the ice was gone, and it -was too late to study the bottom. Being curious to know what -position my great bubbles occupied with regard to the new ice, I -broke out a cake containing a middling sized one, and turned it -bottom upward. The new ice had formed around and under the bubble, -so that it was included between the two ices. It was wholly in the -lower ice, but close against the upper, and was flattish, or perhaps -slightly lenticular, with a rounded edge, a quarter of an inch deep -by four inches in diameter and I was surprised to find that -directly under the bubble the ice was melted with great regularity -in the form of a saucer reversed, to the height of five eighths of -an inch in the middle, leaving a thin partition there between the -water and the bubble, hardly an eighth of an inch thick and in many -places the small bubbles in this partition had burst out downward, -and probably there was no ice at all under the largest bubbles, -which were a foot in diameter. I inferred that the infinite number -of minute bubbles which I had first seen against the under surface -of the ice were now frozen in likewise, and that each, in its -degree, had operated like a burningglass on the ice beneath to melt -and rot it. These are the little airguns which contribute to make -the ice crack and whoop. -At length the winter set in good earnest, just as I had finished -plastering, and the wind began to howl around the house as if it had -not had permission to do so till then. Night after night the geese -came lumbering in the dark with a clangor and a whistling of wings, -even after the ground was covered with snow, some to alight in -Walden, and some flying low over the woods toward Fair Haven, bound -for Mexico. Several times, when returning from the village at ten -or eleven o'clock at night, I heard the tread of a flock of geese, -or else ducks, on the dry leaves in the woods by a pondhole behind -my dwelling, where they had come up to feed, and the faint honk or -quack of their leader as they hurried off. In Walden froze -entirely over for the first time on the night of the d of -December, Flint's and other shallower ponds and the river having -been frozen ten days or more in ', the th in ', about the -st and in ', about the th of December in ', the th of -January in ', the st of December. The snow had already covered -the ground since the th of November, and surrounded me suddenly -with the scenery of winter. I withdrew yet farther into my shell, -and endeavored to keep a bright fire both within my house and within -my breast. My employment out of doors now was to collect the dead -wood in the forest, bringing it in my hands or on my shoulders, or -sometimes trailing a dead pine tree under each arm to my shed. An -old forest fence which had seen its best days was a great haul for -me. I sacrificed it to Vulcan, for it was past serving the god -Terminus. How much more interesting an event is that man's supper -who has just been forth in the snow to hunt, nay, you might say, -steal, the fuel to cook it with His bread and meat are sweet. -There are enough fagots and waste wood of all kinds in the forests -of most of our towns to support many fires, but which at present -warm none, and, some think, hinder the growth of the young wood. -There was also the driftwood of the pond. In the course of the -summer I had discovered a raft of pitch pine logs with the bark on, -pinned together by the Irish when the railroad was built. This I -hauled up partly on the shore. After soaking two years and then -lying high six months it was perfectly sound, though waterlogged -past drying. I amused myself one winter day with sliding this -piecemeal across the pond, nearly half a mile, skating behind with -one end of a log fifteen feet long on my shoulder, and the other on -the ice or I tied several logs together with a birch withe, and -then, with a longer birch or alder which had a book at the end, -dragged them across. Though completely waterlogged and almost as -heavy as lead, they not only burned long, but made a very hot fire -nay, I thought that they burned better for the soaking, as if the -pitch, being confined by the water, burned longer, as in a lamp. -Gilpin, in his account of the forest borderers of England, says -that "the encroachments of trespassers, and the houses and fences -thus raised on the borders of the forest," were "considered as great -nuisances by the old forest law, and were severely punished under -the name of purprestures, as tending ad terrorem ferarum ad -nocumentum forestae, etc.," to the frightening of the game and the -detriment of the forest. But I was interested in the preservation -of the venison and the vert more than the hunters or woodchoppers, -and as much as though I had been the Lord Warden himself and if any -part was burned, though I burned it myself by accident, I grieved -with a grief that lasted longer and was more inconsolable than that -of the proprietors nay, I grieved when it was cut down by the -proprietors themselves. I would that our farmers when they cut down -a forest felt some of that awe which the old Romans did when they -came to thin, or let in the light to, a consecrated grove lucum -conlucare, that is, would believe that it is sacred to some god. -The Roman made an expiatory offering, and prayed, Whatever god or -goddess thou art to whom this grove is sacred, be propitious to me, -my family, and children, etc. -It is remarkable what a value is still put upon wood even in -this age and in this new country, a value more permanent and -universal than that of gold. After all our discoveries and -inventions no man will go by a pile of wood. It is as precious to -us as it was to our Saxon and Norman ancestors. If they made their -bows of it, we make our gunstocks of it. Michaux, more than thirty -years ago, says that the price of wood for fuel in New York and -Philadelphia "nearly equals, and sometimes exceeds, that of the best -wood in Paris, though this immense capital annually requires more -than three hundred thousand cords, and is surrounded to the distance -of three hundred miles by cultivated plains." In this town the -price of wood rises almost steadily, and the only question is, how -much higher it is to be this year than it was the last. Mechanics -and tradesmen who come in person to the forest on no other errand, -are sure to attend the wood auction, and even pay a high price for -the privilege of gleaning after the woodchopper. It is now many -years that men have resorted to the forest for fuel and the -materials of the arts the New Englander and the New Hollander, the -Parisian and the Celt, the farmer and Robin Hood, Goody Blake and -Harry Gill in most parts of the world the prince and the peasant, -the scholar and the savage, equally require still a few sticks from -the forest to warm them and cook their food. Neither could I do -without them. -Every man looks at his woodpile with a kind of affection. I -love to have mine before my window, and the more chips the better to -remind me of my pleasing work. I had an old axe which nobody -claimed, with which by spells in winter days, on the sunny side of -the house, I played about the stumps which I had got out of my -beanfield. As my driver prophesied when I was plowing, they warmed -me twice once while I was splitting them, and again when they -were on the fire, so that no fuel could give out more heat. As for -the axe, I was advised to get the village blacksmith to "jump" it -but I jumped him, and, putting a hickory helve from the woods into -it, made it do. If it was dull, it was at least hung true. -A few pieces of fat pine were a great treasure. It is -interesting to remember how much of this food for fire is still -concealed in the bowels of the earth. In previous years I had often -gone prospecting over some bare hillside, where a pitch pine wood -had formerly stood, and got out the fat pine roots. They are almost -indestructible. Stumps thirty or forty years old, at least, will -still be sound at the core, though the sapwood has all become -vegetable mould, as appears by the scales of the thick bark forming -a ring level with the earth four or five inches distant from the -heart. With axe and shovel you explore this mine, and follow the -marrowy store, yellow as beef tallow, or as if you had struck on a -vein of gold, deep into the earth. But commonly I kindled my fire -with the dry leaves of the forest, which I had stored up in my shed -before the snow came. Green hickory finely split makes the -woodchopper's kindlings, when he has a camp in the woods. Once in a -while I got a little of this. When the villagers were lighting -their fires beyond the horizon, I too gave notice to the various -wild inhabitants of Walden vale, by a smoky streamer from my -chimney, that I was awake. -Lightwinged Smoke, Icarian bird, -Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight, -Lark without song, and messenger of dawn, -Circling above the hamlets as thy nest -Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form -Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts -By night starveiling, and by day -Darkening the light and blotting out the sun -Go thou my incense upward from this hearth, -And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame. -Hard green wood just cut, though I used but little of that, -answered my purpose better than any other. I sometimes left a good -fire when I went to take a walk in a winter afternoon and when I -returned, three or four hours afterward, it would be still alive and -glowing. My house was not empty though I was gone. It was as if I -had left a cheerful housekeeper behind. It was I and Fire that -lived there and commonly my housekeeper proved trustworthy. One -day, however, as I was splitting wood, I thought that I would just -look in at the window and see if the house was not on fire it was -the only time I remember to have been particularly anxious on this -score so I looked and saw that a spark had caught my bed, and I -went in and extinguished it when it had burned a place as big as my -hand. But my house occupied so sunny and sheltered a position, and -its roof was so low, that I could afford to let the fire go out in -the middle of almost any winter day. -The moles nested in my cellar, nibbling every third potato, and -making a snug bed even there of some hair left after plastering and -of brown paper for even the wildest animals love comfort and warmth -as well as man, and they survive the winter only because they are so -careful to secure them. Some of my friends spoke as if I was coming -to the woods on purpose to freeze myself. The animal merely makes a -bed, which he warms with his body, in a sheltered place but man, -having discovered fire, boxes up some air in a spacious apartment, -and warms that, instead of robbing himself, makes that his bed, in -which he can move about divested of more cumbrous clothing, maintain -a kind of summer in the midst of winter, and by means of windows -even admit the light, and with a lamp lengthen out the day. Thus he -goes a step or two beyond instinct, and saves a little time for the -fine arts. Though, when I had been exposed to the rudest blasts a -long time, my whole body began to grow torpid, when I reached the -genial atmosphere of my house I soon recovered my faculties and -prolonged my life. But the most luxuriously housed has little to -boast of in this respect, nor need we trouble ourselves to speculate -how the human race may be at last destroyed. It would be easy to -cut their threads any time with a little sharper blast from the -north. We go on dating from Cold Fridays and Great Snows but a -little colder Friday, or greater snow would put a period to man's -existence on the globe. -The next winter I used a small cookingstove for economy, since -I did not own the forest but it did not keep fire so well as the -open fireplace. Cooking was then, for the most part, no longer a -poetic, but merely a chemic process. It will soon be forgotten, in -these days of stoves, that we used to roast potatoes in the ashes, -after the Indian fashion. The stove not only took up room and -scented the house, but it concealed the fire, and I felt as if I had -lost a companion. You can always see a face in the fire. The -laborer, looking into it at evening, purifies his thoughts of the -dross and earthiness which they have accumulated during the day. -But I could no longer sit and look into the fire, and the pertinent -words of a poet recurred to me with new force. -"Never, bright flame, may be denied to me -Thy dear, life imaging, close sympathy. -What but my hopes shot upward e'er so bright? -What but my fortunes sunk so low in night? -Why art thou banished from our hearth and hall, -Thou who art welcomed and beloved by all? -Was thy existence then too fanciful -For our life's common light, who are so dull? -Did thy bright gleam mysterious converse hold -With our congenial souls? secrets too bold? -Well, we are safe and strong, for now we sit -Beside a hearth where no dim shadows flit, -Where nothing cheers nor saddens, but a fire -Warms feet and hands nor does to more aspire -By whose compact utilitarian heap -The present may sit down and go to sleep, -Nor fear the ghosts who from the dim past walked, -And with us by the unequal light of the old wood fire talked." -Former Inhabitants and Winter Visitors -I weathered some merry snowstorms, and spent some cheerful -winter evenings by my fireside, while the snow whirled wildly -without, and even the hooting of the owl was hushed. For many weeks -I met no one in my walks but those who came occasionally to cut wood -and sled it to the village. The elements, however, abetted me in -making a path through the deepest snow in the woods, for when I had -once gone through the wind blew the oak leaves into my tracks, where -they lodged, and by absorbing the rays of the sun melted the snow, -and so not only made a my bed for my feet, but in the night their -dark line was my guide. For human society I was obliged to conjure -up the former occupants of these woods. Within the memory of many -of my townsmen the road near which my house stands resounded with -the laugh and gossip of inhabitants, and the woods which border it -were notched and dotted here and there with their little gardens and -dwellings, though it was then much more shut in by the forest than -now. In some places, within my own remembrance, the pines would -scrape both sides of a chaise at once, and women and children who -were compelled to go this way to Lincoln alone and on foot did it -with fear, and often ran a good part of the distance. Though mainly -but a humble route to neighboring villages, or for the woodman's -team, it once amused the traveller more than now by its variety, and -lingered longer in his memory. Where now firm open fields stretch -from the village to the woods, it then ran through a maple swamp on -a foundation of logs, the remnants of which, doubtless, still -underlie the present dusty highway, from the Stratton, now the -AlmsHouse Farm, to Brister's Hill. -East of my beanfield, across the road, lived Cato Ingraham, -slave of Duncan Ingraham, Esquire, gentleman, of Concord village, -who built his slave a house, and gave him permission to live in -Walden Woods Cato, not Uticensis, but Concordiensis. Some say -that he was a Guinea Negro. There are a few who remember his little -patch among the walnuts, which he let grow up till he should be old -and need them but a younger and whiter speculator got them at last. -He too, however, occupies an equally narrow house at present. -Cato's halfobliterated cellarhole still remains, though known to -few, being concealed from the traveller by a fringe of pines. It is -now filled with the smooth sumach Rhus glabra, and one of the -earliest species of goldenrod Solidago stricta grows there -luxuriantly. -Here, by the very corner of my field, still nearer to town, -Zilpha, a colored woman, had her little house, where she spun linen -for the townsfolk, making the Walden Woods ring with her shrill -singing, for she had a loud and notable voice. At length, in the -war of , her dwelling was set on fire by English soldiers, -prisoners on parole, when she was away, and her cat and dog and hens -were all burned up together. She led a hard life, and somewhat -inhumane. One old frequenter of these woods remembers, that as he -passed her house one noon he heard her muttering to herself over her -gurgling pot "Ye are all bones, bones" I have seen bricks amid -the oak copse there. -Down the road, on the right hand, on Brister's Hill, lived -Brister Freeman, "a handy Negro," slave of Squire Cummings once -there where grow still the apple trees which Brister planted and -tended large old trees now, but their fruit still wild and ciderish -to my taste. Not long since I read his epitaph in the old Lincoln -buryingground, a little on one side, near the unmarked graves of -some British grenadiers who fell in the retreat from Concord -where he is styled "Sippio Brister" Scipio Africanus he had some -title to be called "a man of color," as if he were discolored. -It also told me, with staring emphasis, when he died which was but -an indirect way of informing me that he ever lived. With him dwelt -Fenda, his hospitable wife, who told fortunes, yet pleasantly -large, round, and black, blacker than any of the children of night, -such a dusky orb as never rose on Concord before or since. -Farther down the hill, on the left, on the old road in the -woods, are marks of some homestead of the Stratton family whose -orchard once covered all the slope of Brister's Hill, but was long -since killed out by pitch pines, excepting a few stumps, whose old -roots furnish still the wild stocks of many a thrifty village tree. -Nearer yet to town, you come to Breed's location, on the other -side of the way, just on the edge of the wood ground famous for the -pranks of a demon not distinctly named in old mythology, who has -acted a prominent and astounding part in our New England life, and -deserves, as much as any mythological character, to have his -biography written one day who first comes in the guise of a friend -or hired man, and then robs and murders the whole family -NewEngland Rum. But history must not yet tell the tragedies -enacted here let time intervene in some measure to assuage and lend -an azure tint to them. Here the most indistinct and dubious -tradition says that once a tavern stood the well the same, which -tempered the traveller's beverage and refreshed his steed. Here -then men saluted one another, and heard and told the news, and went -their ways again. -Breed's hut was standing only a dozen years ago, though it had -long been unoccupied. It was about the size of mine. It was set on -fire by mischievous boys, one Election night, if I do not mistake. -I lived on the edge of the village then, and had just lost myself -over Davenant's "Gondibert," that winter that I labored with a -lethargy which, by the way, I never knew whether to regard as a -family complaint, having an uncle who goes to sleep shaving himself, -and is obliged to sprout potatoes in a cellar Sundays, in order to -keep awake and keep the Sabbath, or as the consequence of my attempt -to read Chalmers' collection of English poetry without skipping. It -fairly overcame my Nervii. I had just sunk my head on this when the -bells rung fire, and in hot haste the engines rolled that way, led -by a straggling troop of men and boys, and I among the foremost, for -I had leaped the brook. We thought it was far south over the woods -we who had run to fires before barn, shop, or dwellinghouse, -or all together. "It's Baker's barn," cried one. "It is the Codman -place," affirmed another. And then fresh sparks went up above the -wood, as if the roof fell in, and we all shouted "Concord to the -rescue" Wagons shot past with furious speed and crushing loads, -bearing, perchance, among the rest, the agent of the Insurance -Company, who was bound to go however far and ever and anon the -engine bell tinkled behind, more slow and sure and rearmost of all, -as it was afterward whispered, came they who set the fire and gave -the alarm. Thus we kept on like true idealists, rejecting the -evidence of our senses, until at a turn in the road we heard the -crackling and actually felt the heat of the fire from over the wall, -and realized, alas that we were there. The very nearness of the -fire but cooled our ardor. At first we thought to throw a frogpond -on to it but concluded to let it burn, it was so far gone and so -worthless. So we stood round our engine, jostled one another, -expressed our sentiments through speakingtrumpets, or in lower tone -referred to the great conflagrations which the world has witnessed, -including Bascom's shop, and, between ourselves, we thought that, -were we there in season with our "tub," and a full frogpond by, we -could turn that threatened last and universal one into another -flood. We finally retreated without doing any mischief returned -to sleep and "Gondibert." But as for "Gondibert," I would except -that passage in the preface about wit being the soul's powder -"but most of mankind are strangers to wit, as Indians are to -powder." -It chanced that I walked that way across the fields the -following night, about the same hour, and hearing a low moaning at -this spot, I drew near in the dark, and discovered the only survivor -of the family that I know, the heir of both its virtues and its -vices, who alone was interested in this burning, lying on his -stomach and looking over the cellar wall at the still smouldering -cinders beneath, muttering to himself, as is his wont. He had been -working far off in the river meadows all day, and had improved the -first moments that he could call his own to visit the home of his -fathers and his youth. He gazed into the cellar from all sides and -points of view by turns, always lying down to it, as if there was -some treasure, which he remembered, concealed between the stones, -where there was absolutely nothing but a heap of bricks and ashes. -The house being gone, he looked at what there was left. He was -soothed by the sympathy which my mere presence, implied, and showed -me, as well as the darkness permitted, where the well was covered -up which, thank Heaven, could never be burned and he groped long -about the wall to find the wellsweep which his father had cut and -mounted, feeling for the iron hook or staple by which a burden had -been fastened to the heavy end all that he could now cling to -to convince me that it was no common "rider." I felt it, and still -remark it almost daily in my walks, for by it hangs the history of a -family. -Once more, on the left, where are seen the well and lilac bushes -by the wall, in the now open field, lived Nutting and Le Grosse. -But to return toward Lincoln. -Farther in the woods than any of these, where the road -approaches nearest to the pond, Wyman the potter squatted, and -furnished his townsmen with earthenware, and left descendants to -succeed him. Neither were they rich in worldly goods, holding the -land by sufferance while they lived and there often the sheriff -came in vain to collect the taxes, and "attached a chip," for form's -sake, as I have read in his accounts, there being nothing else that -he could lay his hands on. One day in midsummer, when I was hoeing, -a man who was carrying a load of pottery to market stopped his horse -against my field and inquired concerning Wyman the younger. He had -long ago bought a potter's wheel of him, and wished to know what had -become of him. I had read of the potter's clay and wheel in -Scripture, but it had never occurred to me that the pots we use were -not such as had come down unbroken from those days, or grown on -trees like gourds somewhere, and I was pleased to hear that so -fictile an art was ever practiced in my neighborhood. -The last inhabitant of these woods before me was an Irishman, -Hugh Quoil if I have spelt his name with coil enough, who occupied -Wyman's tenement Col. Quoil, he was called. Rumor said that he -had been a soldier at Waterloo. If he had lived I should have made -him fight his battles over again. His trade here was that of a -ditcher. Napoleon went to St. Helena Quoil came to Walden Woods. -All I know of him is tragic. He was a man of manners, like one who -had seen the world, and was capable of more civil speech than you -could well attend to. He wore a greatcoat in midsummer, being -affected with the trembling delirium, and his face was the color of -carmine. He died in the road at the foot of Brister's Hill shortly -after I came to the woods, so that I have not remembered him as a -neighbor. Before his house was pulled down, when his comrades -avoided it as "an unlucky castle," I visited it. There lay his old -clothes curled up by use, as if they were himself, upon his raised -plank bed. His pipe lay broken on the hearth, instead of a bowl -broken at the fountain. The last could never have been the symbol -of his death, for he confessed to me that, though he had heard of -Brister's Spring, he had never seen it and soiled cards, kings of -diamonds, spades, and hearts, were scattered over the floor. One -black chicken which the administrator could not catch, black as -night and as silent, not even croaking, awaiting Reynard, still went -to roost in the next apartment. In the rear there was the dim -outline of a garden, which had been planted but had never received -its first hoeing, owing to those terrible shaking fits, though it -was now harvest time. It was overrun with Roman wormwood and -beggarticks, which last stuck to my clothes for all fruit. The -skin of a woodchuck was freshly stretched upon the back of the -house, a trophy of his last Waterloo but no warm cap or mittens -would he want more. -Now only a dent in the earth marks the site of these dwellings, -with buried cellar stones, and strawberries, raspberries, -thimbleberries, hazelbushes, and sumachs growing in the sunny -sward there some pitch pine or gnarled oak occupies what was the -chimney nook, and a sweetscented black birch, perhaps, waves where -the doorstone was. Sometimes the well dent is visible, where once -a spring oozed now dry and tearless grass or it was covered deep -not to be discovered till some late day with a flat stone -under the sod, when the last of the race departed. What a sorrowful -act must that be the covering up of wells coincident with the -opening of wells of tears. These cellar dents, like deserted fox -burrows, old holes, are all that is left where once were the stir -and bustle of human life, and "fate, free will, foreknowledge -absolute," in some form and dialect or other were by turns -discussed. But all I can learn of their conclusions amounts to just -this, that "Cato and Brister pulled wool" which is about as -edifying as the history of more famous schools of philosophy. -Still grows the vivacious lilac a generation after the door and -lintel and the sill are gone, unfolding its sweetscented flowers -each spring, to be plucked by the musing traveller planted and -tended once by children's hands, in frontyard plots now standing -by wallsides in retired pastures, and giving place to newrising -forests the last of that stirp, sole survivor of that family. -Little did the dusky children think that the puny slip with its two -eyes only, which they stuck in the ground in the shadow of the house -and daily watered, would root itself so, and outlive them, and house -itself in the rear that shaded it, and grown man's garden and -orchard, and tell their story faintly to the lone wanderer a -halfcentury after they had grown up and died blossoming as fair, -and smelling as sweet, as in that first spring. I mark its still -tender, civil, cheerful lilac colors. -But this small village, germ of something more, why did it fail -while Concord keeps its ground? Were there no natural advantages -no water privileges, forsooth? Ay, the deep Walden Pond and cool -Brister's Spring privilege to drink long and healthy draughts at -these, all unimproved by these men but to dilute their glass. They -were universally a thirsty race. Might not the basket, -stablebroom, matmaking, cornparching, linenspinning, and pottery -business have thrived here, making the wilderness to blossom like -the rose, and a numerous posterity have inherited the land of their -fathers? The sterile soil would at least have been proof against a -lowland degeneracy. Alas how little does the memory of these -human inhabitants enhance the beauty of the landscape Again, -perhaps, Nature will try, with me for a first settler, and my house -raised last spring to be the oldest in the hamlet. -I am not aware that any man has ever built on the spot which I -occupy. Deliver me from a city built on the site of a more ancient -city, whose materials are ruins, whose gardens cemeteries. The soil -is blanched and accursed there, and before that becomes necessary -the earth itself will be destroyed. With such reminiscences I -repeopled the woods and lulled myself asleep. -At this season I seldom had a visitor. When the snow lay -deepest no wanderer ventured near my house for a week or fortnight -at a time, but there I lived as snug as a meadow mouse, or as cattle -and poultry which are said to have survived for a long time buried -in drifts, even without food or like that early settler's family in -the town of Sutton, in this State, whose cottage was completely -covered by the great snow of when he was absent, and an Indian -found it only by the hole which the chimney's breath made in the -drift, and so relieved the family. But no friendly Indian concerned -himself about me nor needed he, for the master of the house was at -home. The Great Snow How cheerful it is to hear of When the -farmers could not get to the woods and swamps with their teams, and -were obliged to cut down the shade trees before their houses, and, -when the crust was harder, cut off the trees in the swamps, ten feet -from the ground, as it appeared the next spring. -In the deepest snows, the path which I used from the highway to -my house, about half a mile long, might have been represented by a -meandering dotted line, with wide intervals between the dots. For a -week of even weather I took exactly the same number of steps, and of -the same length, coming and going, stepping deliberately and with -the precision of a pair of dividers in my own deep tracks to such -routine the winter reduces us yet often they were filled with -heaven's own blue. But no weather interfered fatally with my walks, -or rather my going abroad, for I frequently tramped eight or ten -miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech -tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines -when the ice and snow causing their limbs to droop, and so -sharpening their tops, had changed the pines into fir trees wading -to the tops of the highest hills when the show was nearly two feet -deep on a level, and shaking down another snowstorm on my head at -every step or sometimes creeping and floundering thither on my -hands and knees, when the hunters had gone into winter quarters. -One afternoon I amused myself by watching a barred owl Strix -nebulosa sitting on one of the lower dead limbs of a white pine, -close to the trunk, in broad daylight, I standing within a rod of -him. He could hear me when I moved and cronched the snow with my -feet, but could not plainly see me. When I made most noise he would -stretch out his neck, and erect his neck feathers, and open his eyes -wide but their lids soon fell again, and he began to nod. I too -felt a slumberous influence after watching him half an hour, as he -sat thus with his eyes half open, like a cat, winged brother of the -cat. There was only a narrow slit left between their lids, by which -be preserved a pennisular relation to me thus, with halfshut eyes, -looking out from the land of dreams, and endeavoring to realize me, -vague object or mote that interrupted his visions. At length, on -some louder noise or my nearer approach, he would grow uneasy and -sluggishly turn about on his perch, as if impatient at having his -dreams disturbed and when he launched himself off and flapped -through the pines, spreading his wings to unexpected breadth, I -could not hear the slightest sound from them. Thus, guided amid the -pine boughs rather by a delicate sense of their neighborhood than by -sight, feeling his twilight way, as it were, with his sensitive -pinions, he found a new perch, where he might in peace await the -dawning of his day. -As I walked over the long causeway made for the railroad through -the meadows, I encountered many a blustering and nipping wind, for -nowhere has it freer play and when the frost had smitten me on one -cheek, heathen as I was, I turned to it the other also. Nor was it -much better by the carriage road from Brister's Hill. For I came to -town still, like a friendly Indian, when the contents of the broad -open fields were all piled up between the walls of the Walden road, -and half an hour sufficed to obliterate the tracks of the last -traveller. And when I returned new drifts would have formed, -through which I floundered, where the busy northwest wind had been -depositing the powdery snow round a sharp angle in the road, and not -a rabbit's track, nor even the fine print, the small type, of a -meadow mouse was to be seen. Yet I rarely failed to find, even in -midwinter, some warm and springly swamp where the grass and the -skunkcabbage still put forth with perennial verdure, and some -hardier bird occasionally awaited the return of spring. -Sometimes, notwithstanding the snow, when I returned from my -walk at evening I crossed the deep tracks of a woodchopper leading -from my door, and found his pile of whittlings on the hearth, and my -house filled with the odor of his pipe. Or on a Sunday afternoon, -if I chanced to be at home, I heard the cronching of the snow made -by the step of a longheaded farmer, who from far through the woods -sought my house, to have a social "crack" one of the few of his -vocation who are "men on their farms" who donned a frock instead of -a professor's gown, and is as ready to extract the moral out of -church or state as to haul a load of manure from his barnyard. We -talked of rude and simple times, when men sat about large fires in -cold, bracing weather, with clear heads and when other dessert -failed, we tried our teeth on many a nut which wise squirrels have -long since abandoned, for those which have the thickest shells are -commonly empty. -The one who came from farthest to my lodge, through deepest -snows and most dismal tempests, was a poet. A farmer, a hunter, a -soldier, a reporter, even a philosopher, may be daunted but nothing -can deter a poet, for he is actuated by pure love. Who can predict -his comings and goings? His business calls him out at all hours, -even when doctors sleep. We made that small house ring with -boisterous mirth and resound with the murmur of much sober talk, -making amends then to Walden vale for the long silences. Broadway -was still and deserted in comparison. At suitable intervals there -were regular salutes of laughter, which might have been referred -indifferently to the lastuttered or the forthcoming jest. We made -many a "bran new" theory of life over a thin dish of gruel, which -combined the advantages of conviviality with the clearheadedness -which philosophy requires. -I should not forget that during my last winter at the pond there -was another welcome visitor, who at one time came through the -village, through snow and rain and darkness, till he saw my lamp -through the trees, and shared with me some long winter evenings. -One of the last of the philosophers Connecticut gave him to the -world he peddled first her wares, afterwards, as he declares, his -brains. These he peddles still, prompting God and disgracing man, -bearing for fruit his brain only, like the nut its kernel. I think -that he must be the man of the most faith of any alive. His words -and attitude always suppose a better state of things than other men -are acquainted with, and he will be the last man to be disappointed -as the ages revolve. He has no venture in the present. But though -comparatively disregarded now, when his day comes, laws unsuspected -by most will take effect, and masters of families and rulers will -come to him for advice. -"How blind that cannot see serenity" -A true friend of man almost the only friend of human progress. An -Old Mortality, say rather an Immortality, with unwearied patience -and faith making plain the image engraven in men's bodies, the God -of whom they are but defaced and leaning monuments. With his -hospitable intellect he embraces children, beggars, insane, and -scholars, and entertains the thought of all, adding to it commonly -some breadth and elegance. I think that he should keep a -caravansary on the world's highway, where philosophers of all -nations might put up, and on his sign should be printed, -"Entertainment for man, but not for his beast. Enter ye that have -leisure and a quiet mind, who earnestly seek the right road." He is -perhaps the sanest man and has the fewest crotchets of any I chance -to know the same yesterday and tomorrow. Of yore we had sauntered -and talked, and effectually put the world behind us for he was -pledged to no institution in it, freeborn, ingenuus. Whichever way -we turned, it seemed that the heavens and the earth had met -together, since he enhanced the beauty of the landscape. A -bluerobed man, whose fittest roof is the overarching sky which -reflects his serenity. I do not see how he can ever die Nature -cannot spare him. -Having each some shingles of thought well dried, we sat and -whittled them, trying our knives, and admiring the clear yellowish -grain of the pumpkin pine. We waded so gently and reverently, or we -pulled together so smoothly, that the fishes of thought were not -scared from the stream, nor feared any angler on the bank, but came -and went grandly, like the clouds which float through the western -sky, and the mothero'pearl flocks which sometimes form and -dissolve there. There we worked, revising mythology, rounding a -fable here and there, and building castles in the air for which -earth offered no worthy foundation. Great Looker Great Expecter -to converse with whom was a New England Night's Entertainment. Ah -such discourse we had, hermit and philosopher, and the old settler I -have spoken of we three it expanded and racked my little -house I should not dare to say how many pounds' weight there was -above the atmospheric pressure on every circular inch it opened its -seams so that they had to be calked with much dulness thereafter to -stop the consequent leak but I had enough of that kind of oakum -already picked. -There was one other with whom I had "solid seasons," long to be -remembered, at his house in the village, and who looked in upon me -from time to time but I had no more for society there. -There too, as everywhere, I sometimes expected the Visitor who -never comes. The Vishnu Purana says, "The householder is to remain -at eventide in his courtyard as long as it takes to milk a cow, or -longer if he pleases, to await the arrival of a guest." I often -performed this duty of hospitality, waited long enough to milk a -whole herd of cows, but did not see the man approaching from the -town. -Winter Animals -When the ponds were firmly frozen, they afforded not only new -and shorter routes to many points, but new views from their surfaces -of the familiar landscape around them. When I crossed Flint's Pond, -after it was covered with snow, though I had often paddled about and -skated over it, it was so unexpectedly wide and so strange that I -could think of nothing but Baffin's Bay. The Lincoln hills rose up -around me at the extremity of a snowy plain, in which I did not -remember to have stood before and the fishermen, at an -indeterminable distance over the ice, moving slowly about with their -wolfish dogs, passed for sealers, or Esquimaux, or in misty weather -loomed like fabulous creatures, and I did not know whether they were -giants or pygmies. I took this course when I went to lecture in -Lincoln in the evening, travelling in no road and passing no house -between my own hut and the lecture room. In Goose Pond, which lay -in my way, a colony of muskrats dwelt, and raised their cabins high -above the ice, though none could be seen abroad when I crossed it. -Walden, being like the rest usually bare of snow, or with only -shallow and interrupted drifts on it, was my yard where I could walk -freely when the snow was nearly two feet deep on a level elsewhere -and the villagers were confined to their streets. There, far from -the village street, and except at very long intervals, from the -jingle of sleighbells, I slid and skated, as in a vast mooseyard -well trodden, overhung by oak woods and solemn pines bent down with -snow or bristling with icicles. -For sounds in winter nights, and often in winter days, I heard -the forlorn but melodious note of a hooting owl indefinitely far -such a sound as the frozen earth would yield if struck with a -suitable plectrum, the very lingua vernacula of Walden Wood, and -quite familiar to me at last, though I never saw the bird while it -was making it. I seldom opened my door in a winter evening without -hearing it Hoo hoo hoo, hoorer, hoo, sounded sonorously, and the -first three syllables accented somewhat like how der do or -sometimes hoo, hoo only. One night in the beginning of winter, -before the pond froze over, about nine o'clock, I was startled by -the loud honking of a goose, and, stepping to the door, heard the -sound of their wings like a tempest in the woods as they flew low -over my house. They passed over the pond toward Fair Haven, -seemingly deterred from settling by my light, their commodore -honking all the while with a regular beat. Suddenly an unmistakable -catowl from very near me, with the most harsh and tremendous voice -I ever heard from any inhabitant of the woods, responded at regular -intervals to the goose, as if determined to expose and disgrace this -intruder from Hudson's Bay by exhibiting a greater compass and -volume of voice in a native, and boohoo him out of Concord horizon. -What do you mean by alarming the citadel at this time of night -consecrated to me? Do you think I am ever caught napping at such an -hour, and that I have not got lungs and a larynx as well as -yourself? Boohoo, boohoo, boohoo It was one of the most -thrilling discords I ever heard. And yet, if you had a -discriminating ear, there were in it the elements of a concord such -as these plains never saw nor heard. -I also heard the whooping of the ice in the pond, my great -bedfellow in that part of Concord, as if it were restless in its -bed and would fain turn over, were troubled with flatulency and had -dreams or I was waked by the cracking of the ground by the frost, -as if some one had driven a team against my door, and in the morning -would find a crack in the earth a quarter of a mile long and a third -of an inch wide. -Sometimes I heard the foxes as they ranged over the snowcrust, -in moonlight nights, in search of a partridge or other game, barking -raggedly and demoniacally like forest dogs, as if laboring with some -anxiety, or seeking expression, struggling for light and to be dogs -outright and run freely in the streets for if we take the ages into -our account, may there not be a civilization going on among brutes -as well as men? They seemed to me to be rudimental, burrowing men, -still standing on their defence, awaiting their transformation. -Sometimes one came near to my window, attracted by my light, barked -a vulpine curse at me, and then retreated. -Usually the red squirrel Sciurus Hudsonius waked me in the -dawn, coursing over the roof and up and down the sides of the house, -as if sent out of the woods for this purpose. In the course of the -winter I threw out half a bushel of ears of sweet corn, which had -not got ripe, on to the snowcrust by my door, and was amused by -watching the motions of the various animals which were baited by it. -In the twilight and the night the rabbits came regularly and made a -hearty meal. All day long the red squirrels came and went, and -afforded me much entertainment by their manoeuvres. One would -approach at first warily through the shrub oaks, running over the -snowcrust by fits and starts like a leaf blown by the wind, now a -few paces this way, with wonderful speed and waste of energy, making -inconceivable haste with his "trotters," as if it were for a wager, -and now as many paces that way, but never getting on more than half -a rod at a time and then suddenly pausing with a ludicrous -expression and a gratuitous somerset, as if all the eyes in the -universe were eyed on him for all the motions of a squirrel, even -in the most solitary recesses of the forest, imply spectators as -much as those of a dancing girl wasting more time in delay and -circumspection than would have sufficed to walk the whole distance -I never saw one walk and then suddenly, before you could say -Jack Robinson, he would be in the top of a young pitch pine, winding -up his clock and chiding all imaginary spectators, soliloquizing and -talking to all the universe at the same time for no reason that I -could ever detect, or he himself was aware of, I suspect. At length -he would reach the corn, and selecting a suitable ear, frisk about -in the same uncertain trigonometrical way to the topmost stick of my -woodpile, before my window, where he looked me in the face, and -there sit for hours, supplying himself with a new ear from time to -time, nibbling at first voraciously and throwing the halfnaked cobs -about till at length he grew more dainty still and played with his -food, tasting only the inside of the kernel, and the ear, which was -held balanced over the stick by one paw, slipped from his careless -grasp and fell to the ground, when he would look over at it with a -ludicrous expression of uncertainty, as if suspecting that it had -life, with a mind not made up whether to get it again, or a new one, -or be off now thinking of corn, then listening to hear what was in -the wind. So the little impudent fellow would waste many an ear in -a forenoon till at last, seizing some longer and plumper one, -considerably bigger than himself, and skilfully balancing it, he -would set out with it to the woods, like a tiger with a buffalo, by -the same zigzag course and frequent pauses, scratching along with -it as if it were too heavy for him and falling all the while, making -its fall a diagonal between a perpendicular and horizontal, being -determined to put it through at any rate a singularly frivolous -and whimsical fellow and so he would get off with it to where he -lived, perhaps carry it to the top of a pine tree forty or fifty -rods distant, and I would afterwards find the cobs strewn about the -woods in various directions. -At length the jays arrive, whose discordant screams were heard -long before, as they were warily making their approach an eighth of -a mile off, and in a stealthy and sneaking manner they flit from -tree to tree, nearer and nearer, and pick up the kernels which the -squirrels have dropped. Then, sitting on a pitch pine bough, they -attempt to swallow in their haste a kernel which is too big for -their throats and chokes them and after great labor they disgorge -it, and spend an hour in the endeavor to crack it by repeated blows -with their bills. They were manifestly thieves, and I had not much -respect for them but the squirrels, though at first shy, went to -work as if they were taking what was their own. -Meanwhile also came the chickadees in flocks, which, picking up -the crumbs the squirrels had dropped, flew to the nearest twig and, -placing them under their claws, hammered away at them with their -little bills, as if it were an insect in the bark, till they were -sufficiently reduced for their slender throats. A little flock of -these titmice came daily to pick a dinner out of my woodpile, or the -crumbs at my door, with faint flitting lisping notes, like the -tinkling of icicles in the grass, or else with sprightly day day -day, or more rarely, in springlike days, a wiry summery phebe -from the woodside. They were so familiar that at length one -alighted on an armful of wood which I was carrying in, and pecked at -the sticks without fear. I once had a sparrow alight upon my -shoulder for a moment while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I -felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance than I -should have been by any epaulet I could have worn. The squirrels -also grew at last to be quite familiar, and occasionally stepped -upon my shoe, when that was the nearest way. -When the ground was not yet quite covered, and again near the -end of winter, when the snow was melted on my south hillside and -about my woodpile, the partridges came out of the woods morning and -evening to feed there. Whichever side you walk in the woods the -partridge bursts away on whirring wings, jarring the snow from the -dry leaves and twigs on high, which comes sifting down in the -sunbeams like golden dust, for this brave bird is not to be scared -by winter. It is frequently covered up by drifts, and, it is said, -"sometimes plunges from on wing into the soft snow, where it remains -concealed for a day or two." I used to start them in the open land -also, where they had come out of the woods at sunset to "bud" the -wild apple trees. They will come regularly every evening to -particular trees, where the cunning sportsman lies in wait for them, -and the distant orchards next the woods suffer thus not a little. I -am glad that the partridge gets fed, at any rate. It is Nature's -own bird which lives on buds and diet drink. -In dark winter mornings, or in short winter afternoons, I -sometimes heard a pack of hounds threading all the woods with -hounding cry and yelp, unable to resist the instinct of the chase, -and the note of the huntinghorn at intervals, proving that man was -in the rear. The woods ring again, and yet no fox bursts forth on -to the open level of the pond, nor following pack pursuing their -Actaeon. And perhaps at evening I see the hunters returning with a -single brush trailing from their sleigh for a trophy, seeking their -inn. They tell me that if the fox would remain in the bosom of the -frozen earth he would be safe, or if be would run in a straight line -away no foxhound could overtake him but, having left his pursuers -far behind, he stops to rest and listen till they come up, and when -he runs he circles round to his old haunts, where the hunters await -him. Sometimes, however, he will run upon a wall many rods, and -then leap off far to one side, and he appears to know that water -will not retain his scent. A hunter told me that he once saw a fox -pursued by hounds burst out on to Walden when the ice was covered -with shallow puddles, run part way across, and then return to the -same shore. Ere long the hounds arrived, but here they lost the -scent. Sometimes a pack hunting by themselves would pass my door, -and circle round my house, and yelp and hound without regarding me, -as if afflicted by a species of madness, so that nothing could -divert them from the pursuit. Thus they circle until they fall upon -the recent trail of a fox, for a wise hound will forsake everything -else for this. One day a man came to my hut from Lexington to -inquire after his hound that made a large track, and had been -hunting for a week by himself. But I fear that he was not the wiser -for all I told him, for every time I attempted to answer his -questions he interrupted me by asking, "What do you do here?" He -had lost a dog, but found a man. -One old hunter who has a dry tongue, who used to come to bathe -in Walden once every year when the water was warmest, and at such -times looked in upon me, told me that many years ago he took his gun -one afternoon and went out for a cruise in Walden Wood and as he -walked the Wayland road he heard the cry of hounds approaching, and -ere long a fox leaped the wall into the road, and as quick as -thought leaped the other wall out of the road, and his swift bullet -had not touched him. Some way behind came an old hound and her -three pups in full pursuit, hunting on their own account, and -disappeared again in the woods. Late in the afternoon, as he was -resting in the thick woods south of Walden, he heard the voice of -the hounds far over toward Fair Haven still pursuing the fox and on -they came, their hounding cry which made all the woods ring sounding -nearer and nearer, now from Well Meadow, now from the Baker Farm. -For a long time he stood still and listened to their music, so sweet -to a hunter's ear, when suddenly the fox appeared, threading the -solemn aisles with an easy coursing pace, whose sound was concealed -by a sympathetic rustle of the leaves, swift and still, keeping the -round, leaving his pursuers far behind and, leaping upon a rock -amid the woods, he sat erect and listening, with his back to the -hunter. For a moment compassion restrained the latter's arm but -that was a shortlived mood, and as quick as thought can follow -thought his piece was levelled, and whang the fox, rolling over -the rock, lay dead on the ground. The hunter still kept his place -and listened to the hounds. Still on they came, and now the near -woods resounded through all their aisles with their demoniac cry. -At length the old hound burst into view with muzzle to the ground, -and snapping the air as if possessed, and ran directly to the rock -but, spying the dead fox, she suddenly ceased her hounding as if -struck dumb with amazement, and walked round and round him in -silence and one by one her pups arrived, and, like their mother, -were sobered into silence by the mystery. Then the hunter came -forward and stood in their midst, and the mystery was solved. They -waited in silence while he skinned the fox, then followed the brush -a while, and at length turned off into the woods again. That -evening a Weston squire came to the Concord hunter's cottage to -inquire for his hounds, and told how for a week they had been -hunting on their own account from Weston woods. The Concord hunter -told him what he knew and offered him the skin but the other -declined it and departed. He did not find his hounds that night, -but the next day learned that they had crossed the river and put up -at a farmhouse for the night, whence, having been well fed, they -took their departure early in the morning. -The hunter who told me this could remember one Sam Nutting, who -used to hunt bears on Fair Haven Ledges, and exchange their skins -for rum in Concord village who told him, even, that he had seen a -moose there. Nutting had a famous foxhound named Burgoyne he -pronounced it Bugine which my informant used to borrow. In the -"Wast Book" of an old trader of this town, who was also a captain, -townclerk, and representative, I find the following entry. Jan. -th, , "John Melven Cr. by Grey Fox " they are not -now found here and in his ledger, Feb, th, , Hezekiah Stratton -has credit "by / a Catt skin " of course, a wildcat, for -Stratton was a sergeant in the old French war, and would not have -got credit for hunting less noble game. Credit is given for -deerskins also, and they were daily sold. One man still preserves -the horns of the last deer that was killed in this vicinity, and -another has told me the particulars of the hunt in which his uncle -was engaged. The hunters were formerly a numerous and merry crew -here. I remember well one gaunt Nimrod who would catch up a leaf by -the roadside and play a strain on it wilder and more melodious, if -my memory serves me, than any huntinghorn. -At midnight, when there was a moon, I sometimes met with hounds -in my path prowling about the woods, which would skulk out of my -way, as if afraid, and stand silent amid the bushes till I had -passed. -Squirrels and wild mice disputed for my store of nuts. There -were scores of pitch pines around my house, from one to four inches -in diameter, which had been gnawed by mice the previous winter a -Norwegian winter for them, for the snow lay long and deep, and they -were obliged to mix a large proportion of pine bark with their other -diet. These trees were alive and apparently flourishing at -midsummer, and many of them had grown a foot, though completely -girdled but after another winter such were without exception dead. -It is remarkable that a single mouse should thus be allowed a whole -pine tree for its dinner, gnawing round instead of up and down it -but perhaps it is necessary in order to thin these trees, which are -wont to grow up densely. -The hares Lepus Americanus were very familiar. One had her -form under my house all winter, separated from me only by the -flooring, and she startled me each morning by her hasty departure -when I began to stir thump, thump, thump, striking her head -against the floor timbers in her hurry. They used to come round my -door at dusk to nibble the potato parings which I had thrown out, -and were so nearly the color of the ground that they could hardly be -distinguished when still. Sometimes in the twilight I alternately -lost and recovered sight of one sitting motionless under my window. -When I opened my door in the evening, off they would go with a -squeak and a bounce. Near at hand they only excited my pity. One -evening one sat by my door two paces from me, at first trembling -with fear, yet unwilling to move a poor wee thing, lean and bony, -with ragged ears and sharp nose, scant tail and slender paws. It -looked as if Nature no longer contained the breed of nobler bloods, -but stood on her last toes. Its large eyes appeared young and -unhealthy, almost dropsical. I took a step, and lo, away it scud -with an elastic spring over the snowcrust, straightening its body -and its limbs into graceful length, and soon put the forest between -me and itself the wild free venison, asserting its vigor and the -dignity of Nature. Not without reason was its slenderness. Such -then was its nature. Lepus, levipes, lightfoot, some think. -What is a country without rabbits and partridges? They are -among the most simple and indigenous animal products ancient and -venerable families known to antiquity as to modern times of the -very hue and substance of Nature, nearest allied to leaves and to -the ground and to one another it is either winged or it is -legged. It is hardly as if you had seen a wild creature when a -rabbit or a partridge bursts away, only a natural one, as much to be -expected as rustling leaves. The partridge and the rabbit are still -sure to thrive, like true natives of the soil, whatever revolutions -occur. If the forest is cut off, the sprouts and bushes which -spring up afford them concealment, and they become more numerous -than ever. That must be a poor country indeed that does not support -a hare. Our woods teem with them both, and around every swamp may -be seen the partridge or rabbit walk, beset with twiggy fences and -horsehair snares, which some cowboy tends. -The Pond in Winter -After a still winter night I awoke with the impression that some -question had been put to me, which I had been endeavoring in vain to -answer in my sleep, as what how when where? But there was -dawning Nature, in whom all creatures live, looking in at my broad -windows with serene and satisfied face, and no question on her lips. -I awoke to an answered question, to Nature and daylight. The snow -lying deep on the earth dotted with young pines, and the very slope -of the hill on which my house is placed, seemed to say, Forward -Nature puts no question and answers none which we mortals ask. She -has long ago taken her resolution. "O Prince, our eyes contemplate -with admiration and transmit to the soul the wonderful and varied -spectacle of this universe. The night veils without doubt a part of -this glorious creation but day comes to reveal to us this great -work, which extends from earth even into the plains of the ether." -Then to my morning work. First I take an axe and pail and go in -search of water, if that be not a dream. After a cold and snowy -night it needed a diviningrod to find it. Every winter the liquid -and trembling surface of the pond, which was so sensitive to every -breath, and reflected every light and shadow, becomes solid to the -depth of a foot or a foot and a half, so that it will support the -heaviest teams, and perchance the snow covers it to an equal depth, -and it is not to be distinguished from any level field. Like the -marmots in the surrounding hills, it closes its eyelids and becomes -dormant for three months or more. Standing on the snowcovered -plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through -a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my -feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlor of -the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of -ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer -there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight -sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the -inhabitants. Heaven is under our feet is well as over our heads. -Early in the morning, while all things are crisp with frost, men -come with fishingreels and slender lunch, and let down their fine -lines through the snowy field to take pickerel and perch wild men, -who instinctively follow other fashions and trust other authorities -than their townsmen, and by their goings and comings stitch towns -together in parts where else they would be ripped. They sit and eat -their luncheon in stout fearnaughts on the dry oak leaves on the -shore, as wise in natural lore as the citizen is in artificial. -They never consulted with books, and know and can tell much less -than they have done. The things which they practice are said not -yet to be known. Here is one fishing for pickerel with grown perch -for bait. You look into his pail with wonder as into a summer pond, -as if he kept summer locked up at home, or knew where she had -retreated. How, pray, did he get these in midwinter? Oh, he got -worms out of rotten logs since the ground froze, and so he caught -them. His life itself passes deeper in nature than the studies of -the naturalist penetrate himself a subject for the naturalist. The -latter raises the moss and bark gently with his knife in search of -insects the former lays open logs to their core with his axe, and -moss and bark fly far and wide. He gets his living by barking -trees. Such a man has some right to fish, and I love to see nature -carried out in him. The perch swallows the grubworm, the pickerel -swallows the perch, and the fisherman swallows the pickerel and so -all the chinks in the scale of being are filled. -When I strolled around the pond in misty weather I was sometimes -amused by the primitive mode which some ruder fisherman had adopted. -He would perhaps have placed alder branches over the narrow holes in -the ice, which were four or five rods apart and an equal distance -from the shore, and having fastened the end of the line to a stick -to prevent its being pulled through, have passed the slack line over -a twig of the alder, a foot or more above the ice, and tied a dry -oak leaf to it, which, being pulled down, would show when he had a -bite. These alders loomed through the mist at regular intervals as -you walked half way round the pond. -Ah, the pickerel of Walden when I see them lying on the ice, or -in the well which the fisherman cuts in the ice, making a little -hole to admit the water, I am always surprised by their rare beauty, -as if they were fabulous fishes, they are so foreign to the streets, -even to the woods, foreign as Arabia to our Concord life. They -possess a quite dazzling and transcendent beauty which separates -them by a wide interval from the cadaverous cod and haddock whose -fame is trumpeted in our streets. They are not green like the -pines, nor gray like the stones, nor blue like the sky but they -have, to my eyes, if possible, yet rarer colors, like flowers and -precious stones, as if they were the pearls, the animalized nuclei -or crystals of the Walden water. They, of course, are Walden all -over and all through are themselves small Waldens in the animal -kingdom, Waldenses. It is surprising that they are caught here -that in this deep and capacious spring, far beneath the rattling -teams and chaises and tinkling sleighs that travel the Walden road, -this great gold and emerald fish swims. I never chanced to see its -kind in any market it would be the cynosure of all eyes there. -Easily, with a few convulsive quirks, they give up their watery -ghosts, like a mortal translated before his time to the thin air of -heaven. -As I was desirous to recover the long lost bottom of Walden -Pond, I surveyed it carefully, before the ice broke up, early in -', with compass and chain and sounding line. There have been many -stories told about the bottom, or rather no bottom, of this pond, -which certainly had no foundation for themselves. It is remarkable -how long men will believe in the bottomlessness of a pond without -taking the trouble to sound it. I have visited two such Bottomless -Ponds in one walk in this neighborhood. Many have believed that -Walden reached quite through to the other side of the globe. Some -who have lain flat on the ice for a long time, looking down through -the illusive medium, perchance with watery eyes into the bargain, -and driven to hasty conclusions by the fear of catching cold in -their breasts, have seen vast holes "into which a load of hay might -be driven," if there were anybody to drive it, the undoubted source -of the Styx and entrance to the Infernal Regions from these parts. -Others have gone down from the village with a "fiftysix" and a -wagon load of inch rope, but yet have failed to find any bottom for -while the "fiftysix" was resting by the way, they were paying out -the rope in the vain attempt to fathom their truly immeasurable -capacity for marvellousness. But I can assure my readers that -Walden has a reasonably tight bottom at a not unreasonable, though -at an unusual, depth. I fathomed it easily with a codline and a -stone weighing about a pound and a half, and could tell accurately -when the stone left the bottom, by having to pull so much harder -before the water got underneath to help me. The greatest depth was -exactly one hundred and two feet to which may be added the five -feet which it has risen since, making one hundred and seven. This -is a remarkable depth for so small an area yet not an inch of it -can be spared by the imagination. What if all ponds were shallow? -Would it not react on the minds of men? I am thankful that this -pond was made deep and pure for a symbol. While men believe in the -infinite some ponds will be thought to be bottomless. -A factoryowner, hearing what depth I had found, thought that it -could not be true, for, judging from his acquaintance with dams, -sand would not lie at so steep an angle. But the deepest ponds are -not so deep in proportion to their area as most suppose, and, if -drained, would not leave very remarkable valleys. They are not like -cups between the hills for this one, which is so unusually deep for -its area, appears in a vertical section through its centre not -deeper than a shallow plate. Most ponds, emptied, would leave a -meadow no more hollow than we frequently see. William Gilpin, who -is so admirable in all that relates to landscapes, and usually so -correct, standing at the head of Loch Fyne, in Scotland, which he -describes as "a bay of salt water, sixty or seventy fathoms deep, -four miles in breadth," and about fifty miles long, surrounded by -mountains, observes, "If we could have seen it immediately after the -diluvian crash, or whatever convulsion of nature occasioned it, -before the waters gushed in, what a horrid chasm must it have -appeared -"So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low -Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, -Capacious bed of waters." -But if, using the shortest diameter of Loch Fyne, we apply these -proportions to Walden, which, as we have seen, appears already in a -vertical section only like a shallow plate, it will appear four -times as shallow. So much for the increased horrors of the chasm of -Loch Fyne when emptied. No doubt many a smiling valley with its -stretching cornfields occupies exactly such a "horrid chasm," from -which the waters have receded, though it requires the insight and -the far sight of the geologist to convince the unsuspecting -inhabitants of this fact. Often an inquisitive eye may detect the -shores of a primitive lake in the low horizon hills, and no -subsequent elevation of the plain have been necessary to conceal -their history. But it is easiest, as they who work on the highways -know, to find the hollows by the puddles after a shower. The amount -of it is, the imagination give it the least license, dives deeper -and soars higher than Nature goes. So, probably, the depth of the -ocean will be found to be very inconsiderable compared with its -breadth. -As I sounded through the ice I could determine the shape of the -bottom with greater accuracy than is possible in surveying harbors -which do not freeze over, and I was surprised at its general -regularity. In the deepest part there are several acres more level -than almost any field which is exposed to the sun, wind, and plow. -In one instance, on a line arbitrarily chosen, the depth did not -vary more than one foot in thirty rods and generally, near the -middle, I could calculate the variation for each one hundred feet in -any direction beforehand within three or four inches. Some are -accustomed to speak of deep and dangerous holes even in quiet sandy -ponds like this, but the effect of water under these circumstances -is to level all inequalities. The regularity of the bottom and its -conformity to the shores and the range of the neighboring hills were -so perfect that a distant promontory betrayed itself in the -soundings quite across the pond, and its direction could be -determined by observing the opposite shore. Cape becomes bar, and -plain shoal, and valley and gorge deep water and channel. -When I had mapped the pond by the scale of ten rods to an inch, -and put down the soundings, more than a hundred in all, I observed -this remarkable coincidence. Having noticed that the number -indicating the greatest depth was apparently in the centre of the -map, I laid a rule on the map lengthwise, and then breadthwise, and -found, to my surprise, that the line of greatest length intersected -the line of greatest breadth exactly at the point of greatest depth, -notwithstanding that the middle is so nearly level, the outline of -the pond far from regular, and the extreme length and breadth were -got by measuring into the coves and I said to myself, Who knows but -this hint would conduct to the deepest part of the ocean as well as -of a pond or puddle? Is not this the rule also for the height of -mountains, regarded as the opposite of valleys? We know that a hill -is not highest at its narrowest part. -Of five coves, three, or all which had been sounded, were -observed to have a bar quite across their mouths and deeper water -within, so that the bay tended to be an expansion of water within -the land not only horizontally but vertically, and to form a basin -or independent pond, the direction of the two capes showing the -course of the bar. Every harbor on the seacoast, also, has its bar -at its entrance. In proportion as the mouth of the cove was wider -compared with its length, the water over the bar was deeper compared -with that in the basin. Given, then, the length and breadth of the -cove, and the character of the surrounding shore, and you have -almost elements enough to make out a formula for all cases. -In order to see how nearly I could guess, with this experience, -at the deepest point in a pond, by observing the outlines of a -surface and the character of its shores alone, I made a plan of -White Pond, which contains about fortyone acres, and, like this, -has no island in it, nor any visible inlet or outlet and as the -line of greatest breadth fell very near the line of least breadth, -where two opposite capes approached each other and two opposite bays -receded, I ventured to mark a point a short distance from the latter -line, but still on the line of greatest length, as the deepest. The -deepest part was found to be within one hundred feet of this, still -farther in the direction to which I had inclined, and was only one -foot deeper, namely, sixty feet. Of course, a stream running -through, or an island in the pond, would make the problem much more -complicated. -If we knew all the laws of Nature, we should need only one fact, -or the description of one actual phenomenon, to infer all the -particular results at that point. Now we know only a few laws, and -our result is vitiated, not, of course, by any confusion or -irregularity in Nature, but by our ignorance of essential elements -in the calculation. Our notions of law and harmony are commonly -confined to those instances which we detect but the harmony which -results from a far greater number of seemingly conflicting, but -really concurring, laws, which we have not detected, is still more -wonderful. The particular laws are as our points of view, as, to -the traveller, a mountain outline varies with every step, and it has -an infinite number of profiles, though absolutely but one form. -Even when cleft or bored through it is not comprehended in its -entireness. -What I have observed of the pond is no less true in ethics. It -is the law of average. Such a rule of the two diameters not only -guides us toward the sun in the system and the heart in man, but -draws lines through the length and breadth of the aggregate of a -man's particular daily behaviors and waves of life into his coves -and inlets, and where they intersect will be the height or depth of -his character. Perhaps we need only to know how his shores trend -and his adjacent country or circumstances, to infer his depth and -concealed bottom. If he is surrounded by mountainous circumstances, -an Achillean shore, whose peaks overshadow and are reflected in his -bosom, they suggest a corresponding depth in him. But a low and -smooth shore proves him shallow on that side. In our bodies, a bold -projecting brow falls off to and indicates a corresponding depth of -thought. Also there is a bar across the entrance of our every cove, -or particular inclination each is our harbor for a season, in which -we are detained and partially landlocked. These inclinations are -not whimsical usually, but their form, size, and direction are -determined by the promontories of the shore, the ancient axes of -elevation. When this bar is gradually increased by storms, tides, -or currents, or there is a subsidence of the waters, so that it -reaches to the surface, that which was at first but an inclination -in the shore in which a thought was harbored becomes an individual -lake, cut off from the ocean, wherein the thought secures its own -conditions changes, perhaps, from salt to fresh, becomes a sweet -sea, dead sea, or a marsh. At the advent of each individual into -this life, may we not suppose that such a bar has risen to the -surface somewhere? It is true, we are such poor navigators that our -thoughts, for the most part, stand off and on upon a harborless -coast, are conversant only with the bights of the bays of poesy, or -steer for the public ports of entry, and go into the dry docks of -science, where they merely refit for this world, and no natural -currents concur to individualize them. -As for the inlet or outlet of Walden, I have not discovered any -but rain and snow and evaporation, though perhaps, with a -thermometer and a line, such places may be found, for where the -water flows into the pond it will probably be coldest in summer and -warmest in winter. When the icemen were at work here in ', the -cakes sent to the shore were one day rejected by those who were -stacking them up there, not being thick enough to lie side by side -with the rest and the cutters thus discovered that the ice over a -small space was two or three inches thinner than elsewhere, which -made them think that there was an inlet there. They also showed me -in another place what they thought was a "leachhole," through which -the pond leaked out under a hill into a neighboring meadow, pushing -me out on a cake of ice to see it. It was a small cavity under ten -feet of water but I think that I can warrant the pond not to need -soldering till they find a worse leak than that. One has suggested, -that if such a "leachhole" should be found, its connection with the -meadow, if any existed, might be proved by conveying some, colored -powder or sawdust to the mouth of the hole, and then putting a -strainer over the spring in the meadow, which would catch some of -the particles carried through by the current. -While I was surveying, the ice, which was sixteen inches thick, -undulated under a slight wind like water. It is well known that a -level cannot be used on ice. At one rod from the shore its greatest -fluctuation, when observed by means of a level on land directed -toward a graduated staff on the ice, was three quarters of an inch, -though the ice appeared firmly attached to the shore. It was -probably greater in the middle. Who knows but if our instruments -were delicate enough we might detect an undulation in the crust of -the earth? When two legs of my level were on the shore and the -third on the ice, and the sights were directed over the latter, a -rise or fall of the ice of an almost infinitesimal amount made a -difference of several feet on a tree across the pond. When I began -to cut holes for sounding there were three or four inches of water -on the ice under a deep snow which had sunk it thus far but the -water began immediately to run into these holes, and continued to -run for two days in deep streams, which wore away the ice on every -side, and contributed essentially, if not mainly, to dry the surface -of the pond for, as the water ran in, it raised and floated the -ice. This was somewhat like cutting a hole in the bottom of a ship -to let the water out. When such holes freeze, and a rain succeeds, -and finally a new freezing forms a fresh smooth ice over all, it is -beautifully mottled internally by dark figures, shaped somewhat like -a spider's web, what you may call ice rosettes, produced by the -channels worn by the water flowing from all sides to a centre. -Sometimes, also, when the ice was covered with shallow puddles, I -saw a double shadow of myself, one standing on the head of the -other, one on the ice, the other on the trees or hillside. -While yet it is cold January, and snow and ice are thick and -solid, the prudent landlord comes from the village to get ice to -cool his summer drink impressively, even pathetically, wise, to -foresee the heat and thirst of July now in January wearing a -thick coat and mittens when so many things are not provided for. -It may be that he lays up no treasures in this world which will cool -his summer drink in the next. He cuts and saws the solid pond, -unroofs the house of fishes, and carts off their very element and -air, held fast by chains and stakes like corded wood, through the -favoring winter air, to wintry cellars, to underlie the summer -there. It looks like solidified azure, as, far off, it is drawn -through the streets. These icecutters are a merry race, full of -jest and sport, and when I went among them they were wont to invite -me to saw pitfashion with them, I standing underneath. -In the winter of ' there came a hundred men of Hyperborean -extraction swoop down on to our pond one morning, with many carloads -of ungainlylooking farming tools sleds, plows, drillbarrows, -turfknives, spades, saws, rakes, and each man was armed with a -doublepointed pikestaff, such as is not described in the -NewEngland Farmer or the Cultivator. I did not know whether they -had come to sow a crop of winter rye, or some other kind of grain -recently introduced from Iceland. As I saw no manure, I judged that -they meant to skim the land, as I had done, thinking the soil was -deep and had lain fallow long enough. They said that a gentleman -farmer, who was behind the scenes, wanted to double his money, -which, as I understood, amounted to half a million already but in -order to cover each one of his dollars with another, he took off the -only coat, ay, the skin itself, of Walden Pond in the midst of a -hard winter. They went to work at once, plowing, barrowing, -rolling, furrowing, in admirable order, as if they were bent on -making this a model farm but when I was looking sharp to see what -kind of seed they dropped into the furrow, a gang of fellows by my -side suddenly began to hook up the virgin mould itself, with a -peculiar jerk, clean down to the sand, or rather the water for it -was a very springy soil indeed all the terra firma there was -and haul it away on sleds, and then I guessed that they must be -cutting peat in a bog. So they came and went every day, with a -peculiar shriek from the locomotive, from and to some point of the -polar regions, as it seemed to me, like a flock of arctic -snowbirds. But sometimes Squaw Walden had her revenge, and a hired -man, walking behind his team, slipped through a crack in the ground -down toward Tartarus, and he who was so brave before suddenly became -but the ninth part of a man, almost gave up his animal heat, and was -glad to take refuge in my house, and acknowledged that there was -some virtue in a stove or sometimes the frozen soil took a piece of -steel out of a plowshare, or a plow got set in the furrow and had to -be cut out. -To speak literally, a hundred Irishmen, with Yankee overseers, -came from Cambridge every day to get out the ice. They divided it -into cakes by methods too well known to require description, and -these, being sledded to the shore, were rapidly hauled off on to an -ice platform, and raised by grappling irons and block and tackle, -worked by horses, on to a stack, as surely as so many barrels of -flour, and there placed evenly side by side, and row upon row, as if -they formed the solid base of an obelisk designed to pierce the -clouds. They told me that in a good day they could get out a -thousand tons, which was the yield of about one acre. Deep ruts and -"cradleholes" were worn in the ice, as on terra firma, by the -passage of the sleds over the same track, and the horses invariably -ate their oats out of cakes of ice hollowed out like buckets. They -stacked up the cakes thus in the open air in a pile thirtyfive feet -high on one side and six or seven rods square, putting hay between -the outside layers to exclude the air for when the wind, though -never so cold, finds a passage through, it will wear large cavities, -leaving slight supports or studs only here and there, and finally -topple it down. At first it looked like a vast blue fort or -Valhalla but when they began to tuck the coarse meadow hay into the -crevices, and this became covered with rime and icicles, it looked -like a venerable mossgrown and hoary ruin, built of azuretinted -marble, the abode of Winter, that old man we see in the almanac -his shanty, as if he had a design to estivate with us. They -calculated that not twentyfive per cent of this would reach its -destination, and that two or three per cent would be wasted in the -cars. However, a still greater part of this heap had a different -destiny from what was intended for, either because the ice was -found not to keep so well as was expected, containing more air than -usual, or for some other reason, it never got to market. This heap, -made in the winter of ' and estimated to contain ten thousand -tons, was finally covered with hay and boards and though it was -unroofed the following July, and a part of it carried off, the rest -remaining exposed to the sun, it stood over that summer and the next -winter, and was not quite melted till September, . Thus the -pond recovered the greater part. -Like the water, the Walden ice, seen near at hand, has a green -tint, but at a distance is beautifully blue, and you can easily tell -it from the white ice of the river, or the merely greenish ice of -some ponds, a quarter of a mile off. Sometimes one of those great -cakes slips from the iceman's sled into the village street, and -lies there for a week like a great emerald, an object of interest to -all passers. I have noticed that a portion of Walden which in the -state of water was green will often, when frozen, appear from the -same point of view blue. So the hollows about this pond will, -sometimes, in the winter, be filled with a greenish water somewhat -like its own, but the next day will have frozen blue. Perhaps the -blue color of water and ice is due to the light and air they -contain, and the most transparent is the bluest. Ice is an -interesting subject for contemplation. They told me that they had -some in the icehouses at Fresh Pond five years old which was as -good as ever. Why is it that a bucket of water soon becomes putrid, -but frozen remains sweet forever? It is commonly said that this is -the difference between the affections and the intellect. -Thus for sixteen days I saw from my window a hundred men at work -like busy husbandmen, with teams and horses and apparently all the -implements of farming, such a picture as we see on the first page of -the almanac and as often as I looked out I was reminded of the -fable of the lark and the reapers, or the parable of the sower, and -the like and now they are all gone, and in thirty days more, -probably, I shall look from the same window on the pure seagreen -Walden water there, reflecting the clouds and the trees, and sending -up its evaporations in solitude, and no traces will appear that a -man has ever stood there. Perhaps I shall hear a solitary loon -laugh as he dives and plumes himself, or shall see a lonely fisher -in his boat, like a floating leaf, beholding his form reflected in -the waves, where lately a hundred men securely labored. -Thus it appears that the sweltering inhabitants of Charleston -and New Orleans, of Madras and Bombay and Calcutta, drink at my -well. In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and -cosmogonal philosophy of the BhagvatGeeta, since whose composition -years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our -modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial and I doubt -if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of -existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions. I lay -down the book and go to my well for water, and lo there I meet the -servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who -still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells -at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his -servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it -were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is -mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges. With favoring winds it -is wafted past the site of the fabulous islands of Atlantis and the -Hesperides, makes the periplus of Hanno, and, floating by Ternate -and Tidore and the mouth of the Persian Gulf, melts in the tropic -gales of the Indian seas, and is landed in ports of which Alexander -only heard the names. -Spring -The opening of large tracts by the icecutters commonly causes a -pond to break up earlier for the water, agitated by the wind, even -in cold weather, wears away the surrounding ice. But such was not -the effect on Walden that year, for she had soon got a thick new -garment to take the place of the old. This pond never breaks up so -soon as the others in this neighborhood, on account both of its -greater depth and its having no stream passing through it to melt or -wear away the ice. I never knew it to open in the course of a -winter, not excepting that of ', which gave the ponds so severe -a trial. It commonly opens about the first of April, a week or ten -days later than Flint's Pond and Fair Haven, beginning to melt on -the north side and in the shallower parts where it began to freeze. -It indicates better than any water hereabouts the absolute progress -of the season, being least affected by transient changes of -temperature. A severe cold of a few days duration in March may very -much retard the opening of the former ponds, while the temperature -of Walden increases almost uninterruptedly. A thermometer thrust -into the middle of Walden on the th of March, , stood at x, -or freezing point near the shore at x in the middle of Flint's -Pond, the same day, at x at a dozen rods from the shore, in -shallow water, under ice a foot thick, at x. This difference of -three and a half degrees between the temperature of the deep water -and the shallow in the latter pond, and the fact that a great -proportion of it is comparatively shallow, show why it should break -up so much sooner than Walden. The ice in the shallowest part was -at this time several inches thinner than in the middle. In -midwinter the middle had been the warmest and the ice thinnest -there. So, also, every one who has waded about the shores of the -pond in summer must have perceived how much warmer the water is -close to the shore, where only three or four inches deep, than a -little distance out, and on the surface where it is deep, than near -the bottom. In spring the sun not only exerts an influence through -the increased temperature of the air and earth, but its heat passes -through ice a foot or more thick, and is reflected from the bottom -in shallow water, and so also warms the water and melts the under -side of the ice, at the same time that it is melting it more -directly above, making it uneven, and causing the air bubbles which -it contains to extend themselves upward and downward until it is -completely honeycombed, and at last disappears suddenly in a single -spring rain. Ice has its grain as well as wood, and when a cake -begins to rot or "comb," that is, assume the appearance of -honeycomb, whatever may be its position, the air cells are at right -angles with what was the water surface. Where there is a rock or a -log rising near to the surface the ice over it is much thinner, and -is frequently quite dissolved by this reflected heat and I have -been told that in the experiment at Cambridge to freeze water in a -shallow wooden pond, though the cold air circulated underneath, and -so had access to both sides, the reflection of the sun from the -bottom more than counterbalanced this advantage. When a warm rain -in the middle of the winter melts off the snowice from Walden, and -leaves a hard dark or transparent ice on the middle, there will be a -strip of rotten though thicker white ice, a rod or more wide, about -the shores, created by this reflected heat. Also, as I have said, -the bubbles themselves within the ice operate as burningglasses to -melt the ice beneath. -The phenomena of the year take place every day in a pond on a -small scale. Every morning, generally speaking, the shallow water -is being warmed more rapidly than the deep, though it may not be -made so warm after all, and every evening it is being cooled more -rapidly until the morning. The day is an epitome of the year. The -night is the winter, the morning and evening are the spring and -fall, and the noon is the summer. The cracking and booming of the -ice indicate a change of temperature. One pleasant morning after a -cold night, February th, , having gone to Flint's Pond to -spend the day, I noticed with surprise, that when I struck the ice -with the head of my axe, it resounded like a gong for many rods -around, or as if I had struck on a tight drumhead. The pond began -to boom about an hour after sunrise, when it felt the influence of -the sun's rays slanted upon it from over the hills it stretched -itself and yawned like a waking man with a gradually increasing -tumult, which was kept up three or four hours. It took a short -siesta at noon, and boomed once more toward night, as the sun was -withdrawing his influence. In the right stage of the weather a pond -fires its evening gun with great regularity. But in the middle of -the day, being full of cracks, and the air also being less elastic, -it had completely lost its resonance, and probably fishes and -muskrats could not then have been stunned by a blow on it. The -fishermen say that the "thundering of the pond" scares the fishes -and prevents their biting. The pond does not thunder every evening, -and I cannot tell surely when to expect its thundering but though I -may perceive no difference in the weather, it does. Who would have -suspected so large and cold and thickskinned a thing to be so -sensitive? Yet it has its law to which it thunders obedience when -it should as surely as the buds expand in the spring. The earth is -all alive and covered with papillae. The largest pond is as -sensitive to atmospheric changes as the globule of mercury in its -tube. -One attraction in coming to the woods to live was that I should -have leisure and opportunity to see the Spring come in. The ice in -the pond at length begins to be honeycombed, and I can set my heel -in it as I walk. Fogs and rains and warmer suns are gradually -melting the snow the days have grown sensibly longer and I see how -I shall get through the winter without adding to my woodpile, for -large fires are no longer necessary. I am on the alert for the -first signs of spring, to hear the chance note of some arriving -bird, or the striped squirrel's chirp, for his stores must be now -nearly exhausted, or see the woodchuck venture out of his winter -quarters. On the th of March, after I had heard the bluebird, -song sparrow, and redwing, the ice was still nearly a foot thick. -As the weather grew warmer it was not sensibly worn away by the -water, nor broken up and floated off as in rivers, but, though it -was completely melted for half a rod in width about the shore, the -middle was merely honeycombed and saturated with water, so that you -could put your foot through it when six inches thick but by the -next day evening, perhaps, after a warm rain followed by fog, it -would have wholly disappeared, all gone off with the fog, spirited -away. One year I went across the middle only five days before it -disappeared entirely. In Walden was first completely open on -the st of April in ', the th of March in ', the th of -April in ', the th of March in ', the th of April in ', -the d of March in ', about the th of April. -Every incident connected with the breaking up of the rivers and -ponds and the settling of the weather is particularly interesting to -us who live in a climate of so great extremes. When the warmer days -come, they who dwell near the river hear the ice crack at night with -a startling whoop as loud as artillery, as if its icy fetters were -rent from end to end, and within a few days see it rapidly going -out. So the alligator comes out of the mud with quakings of the -earth. One old man, who has been a close observer of Nature, and -seems as thoroughly wise in regard to all her operations as if she -had been put upon the stocks when he was a boy, and he had helped to -lay her keel who has come to his growth, and can hardly acquire -more of natural lore if he should live to the age of Methuselah -told me and I was surprised to hear him express wonder at any of -Nature's operations, for I thought that there were no secrets -between them that one spring day he took his gun and boat, and -thought that he would have a little sport with the ducks. There was -ice still on the meadows, but it was all gone out of the river, and -he dropped down without obstruction from Sudbury, where he lived, to -Fair Haven Pond, which he found, unexpectedly, covered for the most -part with a firm field of ice. It was a warm day, and he was -surprised to see so great a body of ice remaining. Not seeing any -ducks, he hid his boat on the north or back side of an island in the -pond, and then concealed himself in the bushes on the south side, to -await them. The ice was melted for three or four rods from the -shore, and there was a smooth and warm sheet of water, with a muddy -bottom, such as the ducks love, within, and he thought it likely -that some would be along pretty soon. After he had lain still there -about an hour he heard a low and seemingly very distant sound, but -singularly grand and impressive, unlike anything he had ever heard, -gradually swelling and increasing as if it would have a universal -and memorable ending, a sullen rush and roar, which seemed to him -all at once like the sound of a vast body of fowl coming in to -settle there, and, seizing his gun, he started up in haste and -excited but he found, to his surprise, that the whole body of the -ice had started while he lay there, and drifted in to the shore, and -the sound he had heard was made by its edge grating on the shore -at first gently nibbled and crumbled off, but at length heaving up -and scattering its wrecks along the island to a considerable height -before it came to a standstill. -At length the sun's rays have attained the right angle, and warm -winds blow up mist and rain and melt the snowbanks, and the sun, -dispersing the mist, smiles on a checkered landscape of russet and -white smoking with incense, through which the traveller picks his -way from islet to islet, cheered by the music of a thousand tinkling -rills and rivulets whose veins are filled with the blood of winter -which they are bearing off. -Few phenomena gave me more delight than to observe the forms -which thawing sand and clay assume in flowing down the sides of a -deep cut on the railroad through which I passed on my way to the -village, a phenomenon not very common on so large a scale, though -the number of freshly exposed banks of the right material must have -been greatly multiplied since railroads were invented. The material -was sand of every degree of fineness and of various rich colors, -commonly mixed with a little clay. When the frost comes out in the -spring, and even in a thawing day in the winter, the sand begins to -flow down the slopes like lava, sometimes bursting out through the -snow and overflowing it where no sand was to be seen before. -Innumerable little streams overlap and interlace one with another, -exhibiting a sort of hybrid product, which obeys half way the law of -currents, and half way that of vegetation. As it flows it takes the -forms of sappy leaves or vines, making heaps of pulpy sprays a foot -or more in depth, and resembling, as you look down on them, the -laciniated, lobed, and imbricated thalluses of some lichens or you -are reminded of coral, of leopard's paws or birds' feet, of brains -or lungs or bowels, and excrements of all kinds. It is a truly -grotesque vegetation, whose forms and color we see imitated in -bronze, a sort of architectural foliage more ancient and typical -than acanthus, chiccory, ivy, vine, or any vegetable leaves -destined perhaps, under some circumstances, to become a puzzle to -future geologists. The whole cut impressed me as if it were a cave -with its stalactites laid open to the light. The various shades of -the sand are singularly rich and agreeable, embracing the different -iron colors, brown, gray, yellowish, and reddish. When the flowing -mass reaches the drain at the foot of the bank it spreads out -flatter into strands, the separate streams losing their -semicylindrical form and gradually becoming more flat and broad, -running together as they are more moist, till they form an almost -flat sand, still variously and beautifully shaded, but in which you -can trace the original forms of vegetation till at length, in the -water itself, they are converted into banks, like those formed off -the mouths of rivers, and the forms of vegetation are lost in the -ripple marks on the bottom. -The whole bank, which is from twenty to forty feet high, is -sometimes overlaid with a mass of this kind of foliage, or sandy -rupture, for a quarter of a mile on one or both sides, the produce -of one spring day. What makes this sand foliage remarkable is its -springing into existence thus suddenly. When I see on the one side -the inert bank for the sun acts on one side first and on the -other this luxuriant foliage, the creation of an hour, I am affected -as if in a peculiar sense I stood in the laboratory of the Artist -who made the world and me had come to where he was still at work, -sporting on this bank, and with excess of energy strewing his fresh -designs about. I feel as if I were nearer to the vitals of the -globe, for this sandy overflow is something such a foliaceous mass -as the vitals of the animal body. You find thus in the very sands -an anticipation of the vegetable leaf. No wonder that the earth -expresses itself outwardly in leaves, it so labors with the idea -inwardly. The atoms have already learned this law, and are pregnant -by it. The overhanging leaf sees here its prototype. Internally, -whether in the globe or animal body, it is a moist thick lobe, a -word especially applicable to the liver and lungs and the leaves of -fat jnai, labor, lapsus, to flow or slip downward, a lapsing -jiais, globus, lobe, globe also lap, flap, and many other words -externally a dry thin leaf, even as the f and v are a pressed and -dried b. The radicals of lobe are lb, the soft mass of the b -single lobed, or B, double lobed, with the liquid l behind it -pressing it forward. In globe, glb, the guttural g adds to the -meaning the capacity of the throat. The feathers and wings of birds -are still drier and thinner leaves. Thus, also, you pass from the -lumpish grub in the earth to the airy and fluttering butterfly. The -very globe continually transcends and translates itself, and becomes -winged in its orbit. Even ice begins with delicate crystal leaves, -as if it had flowed into moulds which the fronds of waterplants have -impressed on the watery mirror. The whole tree itself is but one -leaf, and rivers are still vaster leaves whose pulp is intervening -earth, and towns and cities are the ova of insects in their axils. -When the sun withdraws the sand ceases to flow, but in the -morning the streams will start once more and branch and branch again -into a myriad of others. You here see perchance how bloodvessels -are formed. If you look closely you observe that first there pushes -forward from the thawing mass a stream of softened sand with a -droplike point, like the ball of the finger, feeling its way slowly -and blindly downward, until at last with more heat and moisture, as -the sun gets higher, the most fluid portion, in its effort to obey -the law to which the most inert also yields, separates from the -latter and forms for itself a meandering channel or artery within -that, in which is seen a little silvery stream glancing like -lightning from one stage of pulpy leaves or branches to another, and -ever and anon swallowed up in the sand. It is wonderful how rapidly -yet perfectly the sand organizes itself as it flows, using the best -material its mass affords to form the sharp edges of its channel. -Such are the sources of rivers. In the silicious matter which the -water deposits is perhaps the bony system, and in the still finer -soil and organic matter the fleshy fibre or cellular tissue. What -is man but a mass of thawing clay? The ball of the human finger is -but a drop congealed. The fingers and toes flow to their extent -from the thawing mass of the body. Who knows what the human body -would expand and flow out to under a more genial heaven? Is not the -hand a spreading palm leaf with its lobes and veins? The ear may be -regarded, fancifully, as a lichen, umbilicaria, on the side of the -head, with its lobe or drop. The lip labium, from labor ? -laps or lapses from the sides of the cavernous mouth. The nose is a -manifest congealed drop or stalactite. The chin is a still larger -drop, the confluent dripping of the face. The cheeks are a slide -from the brows into the valley of the face, opposed and diffused by -the cheek bones. Each rounded lobe of the vegetable leaf, too, is a -thick and now loitering drop, larger or smaller the lobes are the -fingers of the leaf and as many lobes as it has, in so many -directions it tends to flow, and more heat or other genial -influences would have caused it to flow yet farther. -Thus it seemed that this one hillside illustrated the principle -of all the operations of Nature. The Maker of this earth but -patented a leaf. What Champollion will decipher this hieroglyphic -for us, that we may turn over a new leaf at last? This phenomenon -is more exhilarating to me than the luxuriance and fertility of -vineyards. True, it is somewhat excrementitious in its character, -and there is no end to the heaps of liver, lights, and bowels, as if -the globe were turned wrong side outward but this suggests at least -that Nature has some bowels, and there again is mother of humanity. -This is the frost coming out of the ground this is Spring. It -precedes the green and flowery spring, as mythology precedes regular -poetry. I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and -indigestions. It convinces me that Earth is still in her -swaddlingclothes, and stretches forth baby fingers on every side. -Fresh curls spring from the baldest brow. There is nothing -inorganic. These foliaceous heaps lie along the bank like the slag -of a furnace, showing that Nature is "in full blast" within. The -earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, stratum upon stratum -like the leaves of a book, to be studied by geologists and -antiquaries chiefly, but living poetry like the leaves of a tree, -which precede flowers and fruit not a fossil earth, but a living -earth compared with whose great central life all animal and -vegetable life is merely parasitic. Its throes will heave our -exuviae from their graves. You may melt your metals and cast them -into the most beautiful moulds you can they will never excite me -like the forms which this molten earth flows out into. And not only -it, but the institutions upon it are plastic like clay in the hands -of the potter. -Ere long, not only on these banks, but on every hill and plain -and in every hollow, the frost comes out of the ground like a -dormant quadruped from its burrow, and seeks the sea with music, or -migrates to other climes in clouds. Thaw with his gentle persuasion -is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the -other but breaks in pieces. -When the ground was partially bare of snow, and a few warm days -had dried its surface somewhat, it was pleasant to compare the first -tender signs of the infant year just peeping forth with the stately -beauty of the withered vegetation which had withstood the -winter lifeeverlasting, goldenrods, pinweeds, and graceful wild -grasses, more obvious and interesting frequently than in summer -even, as if their beauty was not ripe till then even cottongrass, -cattails, mulleins, johnswort, hardhack, meadowsweet, and other -strongstemmed plants, those unexhausted granaries which entertain -the earliest birds decent weeds, at least, which widowed Nature -wears. I am particularly attracted by the arching and sheaflike -top of the woolgrass it brings back the summer to our winter -memories, and is among the forms which art loves to copy, and which, -in the vegetable kingdom, have the same relation to types already in -the mind of man that astronomy has. It is an antique style, older -than Greek or Egyptian. Many of the phenomena of Winter are -suggestive of an inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy. We -are accustomed to hear this king described as a rude and boisterous -tyrant but with the gentleness of a lover he adorns the tresses of -Summer. -At the approach of spring the red squirrels got under my house, -two at a time, directly under my feet as I sat reading or writing, -and kept up the queerest chuckling and chirruping and vocal -pirouetting and gurgling sounds that ever were heard and when I -stamped they only chirruped the louder, as if past all fear and -respect in their mad pranks, defying humanity to stop them. No, you -don't chickaree chickaree. They were wholly deaf to my -arguments, or failed to perceive their force, and fell into a strain -of invective that was irresistible. -The first sparrow of spring The year beginning with younger -hope than ever The faint silvery warblings heard over the -partially bare and moist fields from the bluebird, the song sparrow, -and the redwing, as if the last flakes of winter tinkled as they -fell What at such a time are histories, chronologies, traditions, -and all written revelations? The brooks sing carols and glees to -the spring. The marsh hawk, sailing low over the meadow, is already -seeking the first slimy life that awakes. The sinking sound of -melting snow is heard in all dells, and the ice dissolves apace in -the ponds. The grass flames up on the hillsides like a spring fire -"et primitus oritur herba imbribus primoribus evocata" as if -the earth sent forth an inward heat to greet the returning sun not -yellow but green is the color of its flame the symbol of -perpetual youth, the grassblade, like a long green ribbon, streams -from the sod into the summer, checked indeed by the frost, but anon -pushing on again, lifting its spear of last year's hay with the -fresh life below. It grows as steadily as the rill oozes out of the -ground. It is almost identical with that, for in the growing days -of June, when the rills are dry, the grassblades are their -channels, and from year to year the herds drink at this perennial -green stream, and the mower draws from it betimes their winter -supply. So our human life but dies down to its root, and still puts -forth its green blade to eternity. -Walden is melting apace. There is a canal two rods wide along -the northerly and westerly sides, and wider still at the east end. -A great field of ice has cracked off from the main body. I hear a -song sparrow singing from the bushes on the shore olit, olit, -olit chip, chip, chip, che char che wiss, wiss, wiss. He too -is helping to crack it. How handsome the great sweeping curves in -the edge of the ice, answering somewhat to those of the shore, but -more regular It is unusually hard, owing to the recent severe but -transient cold, and all watered or waved like a palace floor. But -the wind slides eastward over its opaque surface in vain, till it -reaches the living surface beyond. It is glorious to behold this -ribbon of water sparkling in the sun, the bare face of the pond full -of glee and youth, as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it, -and of the sands on its shore a silvery sheen as from the scales -of a leuciscus, as it were all one active fish. Such is the -contrast between winter and spring. Walden was dead and is alive -again. But this spring it broke up more steadily, as I have said. -The change from storm and winter to serene and mild weather, -from dark and sluggish hours to bright and elastic ones, is a -memorable crisis which all things proclaim. It is seemingly -instantaneous at last. Suddenly an influx of light filled my house, -though the evening was at hand, and the clouds of winter still -overhung it, and the eaves were dripping with sleety rain. I looked -out the window, and lo where yesterday was cold gray ice there lay -the transparent pond already calm and full of hope as in a summer -evening, reflecting a summer evening sky in its bosom, though none -was visible overhead, as if it had intelligence with some remote -horizon. I heard a robin in the distance, the first I had heard for -many a thousand years, methought, whose note I shall not forget for -many a thousand more the same sweet and powerful song as of yore. -O the evening robin, at the end of a New England summer day If I -could ever find the twig he sits upon I mean he I mean the twig. -This at least is not the Turdus migratorius. The pitch pines and -shrub oaks about my house, which had so long drooped, suddenly -resumed their several characters, looked brighter, greener, and more -erect and alive, as if effectually cleansed and restored by the -rain. I knew that it would not rain any more. You may tell by -looking at any twig of the forest, ay, at your very woodpile, -whether its winter is past or not. As it grew darker, I was -startled by the honking of geese flying low over the woods, like -weary travellers getting in late from Southern lakes, and indulging -at last in unrestrained complaint and mutual consolation. Standing -at my door, I could bear the rush of their wings when, driving -toward my house, they suddenly spied my light, and with hushed -clamor wheeled and settled in the pond. So I came in, and shut the -door, and passed my first spring night in the woods. -In the morning I watched the geese from the door through the -mist, sailing in the middle of the pond, fifty rods off, so large -and tumultuous that Walden appeared like an artificial pond for -their amusement. But when I stood on the shore they at once rose up -with a great flapping of wings at the signal of their commander, and -when they had got into rank circled about over my head, twentynine -of them, and then steered straight to Canada, with a regular honk -from the leader at intervals, trusting to break their fast in -muddier pools. A "plump" of ducks rose at the same time and took -the route to the north in the wake of their noisier cousins. -For a week I heard the circling, groping clangor of some -solitary goose in the foggy mornings, seeking its companion, and -still peopling the woods with the sound of a larger life than they -could sustain. In April the pigeons were seen again flying express -in small flocks, and in due time I heard the martins twittering over -my clearing, though it had not seemed that the township contained so -many that it could afford me any, and I fancied that they were -peculiarly of the ancient race that dwelt in hollow trees ere white -men came. In almost all climes the tortoise and the frog are among -the precursors and heralds of this season, and birds fly with song -and glancing plumage, and plants spring and bloom, and winds blow, -to correct this slight oscillation of the poles and preserve the -equilibrium of nature. -As every season seems best to us in its turn, so the coming in -of spring is like the creation of Cosmos out of Chaos and the -realization of the Golden Age. -"Eurus ad Auroram Nabathaeaque regna recessit, -Persidaque, et radiis juga subdita matutinis." -"The EastWind withdrew to Aurora and the Nabathean kingdom, -And the Persian, and the ridges placed under the morning rays. -Man was born. Whether that Artificer of things, -The origin of a better world, made him from the divine seed -Or the earth, being recent and lately sundered from the high -Ether, retained some seeds of cognate heaven." -A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So -our prospects brighten on the influx of better thoughts. We should -be blessed if we lived in the present always, and took advantage of -every accident that befell us, like the grass which confesses the -influence of the slightest dew that falls on it and did not spend -our time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities, which we -call doing our duty. We loiter in winter while it is already -spring. In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven. -Such a day is a truce to vice. While such a sun holds out to burn, -the vilest sinner may return. Through our own recovered innocence -we discern the innocence of our neighbors. You may have known your -neighbor yesterday for a thief, a drunkard, or a sensualist, and -merely pitied or despised him, and despaired of the world but the -sun shines bright and warm this first spring morning, recreating the -world, and you meet him at some serene work, and see how it is -exhausted and debauched veins expand with still joy and bless the -new day, feel the spring influence with the innocence of infancy, -and all his faults are forgotten. There is not only an atmosphere -of good will about him, but even a savor of holiness groping for -expression, blindly and ineffectually perhaps, like a newborn -instinct, and for a short hour the south hillside echoes to no -vulgar jest. You see some innocent fair shoots preparing to burst -from his gnarled rind and try another year's life, tender and fresh -as the youngest plant. Even he has entered into the joy of his -Lord. Why the jailer does not leave open his prison doors why -the judge does not dismis his case why the preacher does not -dismiss his congregation It is because they do not obey the hint -which God gives them, nor accept the pardon which he freely offers -to all. -"A return to goodness produced each day in the tranquil and -beneficent breath of the morning, causes that in respect to the love -of virtue and the hatred of vice, one approaches a little the -primitive nature of man, as the sprouts of the forest which has been -felled. In like manner the evil which one does in the interval of a -day prevents the germs of virtues which began to spring up again -from developing themselves and destroys them. -"After the germs of virtue have thus been prevented many times -from developing themselves, then the beneficent breath of evening -does not suffice to preserve them. As soon as the breath of evening -does not suffice longer to preserve them, then the nature of man -does not differ much from that of the brute. Men seeing the nature -of this man like that of the brute, think that he has never -possessed the innate faculty of reason. Are those the true and -natural sentiments of man?" -"The Golden Age was first created, which without any avenger -Spontaneously without law cherished fidelity and rectitude. -Punishment and fear were not nor were threatening words read -On suspended brass nor did the suppliant crowd fear -The words of their judge but were safe without an avenger. -Not yet the pine felled on its mountains had descended -To the liquid waves that it might see a foreign world, -And mortals knew no shores but their own. -There was eternal spring, and placid zephyrs with warm -Blasts soothed the flowers born without seed." -On the th of April, as I was fishing from the bank of the -river near the NineAcreCorner bridge, standing on the quaking -grass and willow roots, where the muskrats lurk, I heard a singular -rattling sound, somewhat like that of the sticks which boys play -with their fingers, when, looking up, I observed a very slight and -graceful hawk, like a nighthawk, alternately soaring like a ripple -and tumbling a rod or two over and over, showing the under side of -its wings, which gleamed like a satin ribbon in the sun, or like the -pearly inside of a shell. This sight reminded me of falconry and -what nobleness and poetry are associated with that sport. The -Merlin it seemed to me it might be called but I care not for its -name. It was the most ethereal flight I had ever witnessed. It did -not simply flutter like a butterfly, nor soar like the larger hawks, -but it sported with proud reliance in the fields of air mounting -again and again with its strange chuckle, it repeated its free and -beautiful fall, turning over and over like a kite, and then -recovering from its lofty tumbling, as if it had never set its foot -on terra firma. It appeared to have no companion in the universe -sporting there alone and to need none but the morning and the -ether with which it played. It was not lonely, but made all the -earth lonely beneath it. Where was the parent which hatched it, its -kindred, and its father in the heavens? The tenant of the air, it -seemed related to the earth but by an egg hatched some time in the -crevice of a crag or was its native nest made in the angle of a -cloud, woven of the rainbow's trimmings and the sunset sky, and -lined with some soft midsummer haze caught up from earth? Its eyry -now some cliffy cloud. -Beside this I got a rare mess of golden and silver and bright -cupreous fishes, which looked like a string of jewels. Ah I have -penetrated to those meadows on the morning of many a first spring -day, jumping from hummock to hummock, from willow root to willow -root, when the wild river valley and the woods were bathed in so -pure and bright a light as would have waked the dead, if they had -been slumbering in their graves, as some suppose. There needs no -stronger proof of immortality. All things must live in such a -light. O Death, where was thy sting? O Grave, where was thy -victory, then? -Our village life would stagnate if it were not for the -unexplored forests and meadows which surround it. We need the tonic -of wildness to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and -the meadowhen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe to smell the -whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl -builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the -ground. At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn -all things, we require that all things be mysterious and -unexplorable, that land and sea be infinitely wild, unsurveyed and -unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of -nature. We must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, -vast and titanic features, the seacoast with its wrecks, the -wilderness with its living and its decaying trees, the -thundercloud, and the rain which lasts three weeks and produces -freshets. We need to witness our own limits transgressed, and some -life pasturing freely where we never wander. We are cheered when we -observe the vulture feeding on the carrion which disgusts and -disheartens us, and deriving health and strength from the repast. -There was a dead horse in the hollow by the path to my house, which -compelled me sometimes to go out of my way, especially in the night -when the air was heavy, but the assurance it gave me of the strong -appetite and inviolable health of Nature was my compensation for -this. I love to see that Nature is so rife with life that myriads -can be afforded to be sacrificed and suffered to prey on one -another that tender organizations can be so serenely squashed out -of existence like pulp tadpoles which herons gobble up, and -tortoises and toads run over in the road and that sometimes it has -rained flesh and blood With the liability to accident, we must see -how little account is to be made of it. The impression made on a -wise man is that of universal innocence. Poison is not poisonous -after all, nor are any wounds fatal. Compassion is a very untenable -ground. It must be expeditious. Its pleadings will not bear to be -stereotyped. -Early in May, the oaks, hickories, maples, and other trees, just -putting out amidst the pine woods around the pond, imparted a -brightness like sunshine to the landscape, especially in cloudy -days, as if the sun were breaking through mists and shining faintly -on the hillsides here and there. On the third or fourth of May I -saw a loon in the pond, and during the first week of the month I -heard the whippoorwill, the brown thrasher, the veery, the wood -pewee, the chewink, and other birds. I had heard the wood thrush -long before. The phoebe had already come once more and looked in at -my door and window, to see if my house was cavernlike enough for -her, sustaining herself on humming wings with clinched talons, as if -she held by the air, while she surveyed the premises. The -sulphurlike pollen of the pitch pine soon covered the pond and the -stones and rotten wood along the shore, so that you could have -collected a barrelful. This is the "sulphur showers" we bear of. -Even in Calidas' drama of Sacontala, we read of "rills dyed yellow -with the golden dust of the lotus." And so the seasons went rolling -on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass. -Thus was my first year's life in the woods completed and the -second year was similar to it. I finally left Walden September th, -Conclusion -To the sick the doctors wisely recommend a change of air and -scenery. Thank Heaven, here is not all the world. The buckeye does -not grow in New England, and the mockingbird is rarely heard here. -The wild goose is more of a cosmopolite than we he breaks his fast -in Canada, takes a luncheon in the Ohio, and plumes himself for the -night in a southern bayou. Even the bison, to some extent, keeps -pace with the seasons cropping the pastures of the Colorado only -till a greener and sweeter grass awaits him by the Yellowstone. Yet -we think that if rail fences are pulled down, and stone walls piled -up on our farms, bounds are henceforth set to our lives and our -fates decided. If you are chosen town clerk, forsooth, you cannot -go to Tierra del Fuego this summer but you may go to the land of -infernal fire nevertheless. The universe is wider than our views of -it. -Yet we should oftener look over the tafferel of our craft, like -curious passengers, and not make the voyage like stupid sailors -picking oakum. The other side of the globe is but the home of our -correspondent. Our voyaging is only greatcircle sailing, and the -doctors prescribe for diseases of the skin merely. One hastens to -southern Africa to chase the giraffe but surely that is not the -game he would be after. How long, pray, would a man hunt giraffes -if he could? Snipes and woodcocks also may afford rare sport but I -trust it would be nobler game to shoot one's self. -"Direct your eye right inward, and you'll find -A thousand regions in your mind -Yet undiscovered. Travel them, and be -Expert in homecosmography." -What does Africa what does the West stand for? Is not our own -interior white on the chart? black though it may prove, like the -coast, when discovered. Is it the source of the Nile, or the Niger, -or the Mississippi, or a Northwest Passage around this continent, -that we would find? Are these the problems which most concern -mankind? Is Franklin the only man who is lost, that his wife should -be so earnest to find him? Does Mr. Grinnell know where he himself -is? Be rather the Mungo Park, the Lewis and Clark and Frobisher, of -your own streams and oceans explore your own higher latitudes -with shiploads of preserved meats to support you, if they be -necessary and pile the empty cans skyhigh for a sign. Were -preserved meats invented to preserve meat merely? Nay, be a -Columbus to whole new continents and worlds within you, opening new -channels, not of trade, but of thought. Every man is the lord of a -realm beside which the earthly empire of the Czar is but a petty -state, a hummock left by the ice. Yet some can be patriotic who -have no selfrespect, and sacrifice the greater to the less. They -love the soil which makes their graves, but have no sympathy with -the spirit which may still animate their clay. Patriotism is a -maggot in their heads. What was the meaning of that SouthSea -Exploring Expedition, with all its parade and expense, but an -indirect recognition of the fact that there are continents and seas -in the moral world to which every man is an isthmus or an inlet, yet -unexplored by him, but that it is easier to sail many thousand miles -through cold and storm and cannibals, in a government ship, with -five hundred men and boys to assist one, than it is to explore the -private sea, the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean of one's being alone. -"Erret, et extremos alter scrutetur Iberos. -Plus habet hic vitae, plus habet ille viae." -Let them wander and scrutinize the outlandish Australians. -I have more of God, they more of the road. -It is not worth the while to go round the world to count the cats in -Zanzibar. Yet do this even till you can do better, and you may -perhaps find some "Symmes' Hole" by which to get at the inside at -last. England and France, Spain and Portugal, Gold Coast and Slave -Coast, all front on this private sea but no bark from them has -ventured out of sight of land, though it is without doubt the direct -way to India. If you would learn to speak all tongues and conform -to the customs of all nations, if you would travel farther than all -travellers, be naturalized in all climes, and cause the Sphinx to -dash her head against a stone, even obey the precept of the old -philosopher, and Explore thyself. Herein are demanded the eye and -the nerve. Only the defeated and deserters go to the wars, cowards -that run away and enlist. Start now on that farthest western way, -which does not pause at the Mississippi or the Pacific, nor conduct -toward a wornout China or Japan, but leads on direct, a tangent to -this sphere, summer and winter, day and night, sun down, moon down, -and at last earth down too. -It is said that Mirabeau took to highway robbery "to ascertain -what degree of resolution was necessary in order to place one's self -in formal opposition to the most sacred laws of society." He -declared that "a soldier who fights in the ranks does not require -half so much courage as a footpad" "that honor and religion have -never stood in the way of a wellconsidered and a firm resolve." -This was manly, as the world goes and yet it was idle, if not -desperate. A saner man would have found himself often enough "in -formal opposition" to what are deemed "the most sacred laws of -society," through obedience to yet more sacred laws, and so have -tested his resolution without going out of his way. It is not for a -man to put himself in such an attitude to society, but to maintain -himself in whatever attitude he find himself through obedience to -the laws of his being, which will never be one of opposition to a -just government, if he should chance to meet with such. -I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps -it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not -spare any more time for that one. It is remarkable how easily and -insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track -for ourselves. I had not lived there a week before my feet wore a -path from my door to the pondside and though it is five or six -years since I trod it, it is still quite distinct. It is true, I -fear, that others may have fallen into it, and so helped to keep it -open. The surface of the earth is soft and impressible by the feet -of men and so with the paths which the mind travels. How worn and -dusty, then, must be the highways of the world, how deep the ruts of -tradition and conformity I did not wish to take a cabin passage, -but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world, for -there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not -wish to go below now. -I learned this, at least, by my experiment that if one advances -confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live -the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success -unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will -pass an invisible boundary new, universal, and more liberal laws -will begin to establish themselves around and within him or the old -laws be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal -sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of -beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the -universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be -solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have -built castles in the air, your work need not be lost that is where -they should be. Now put the foundations under them. -It is a ridiculous demand which England and America make, that -you shall speak so that they can understand you. Neither men nor -toadstools grow so. As if that were important, and there were not -enough to understand you without them. As if Nature could support -but one order of understandings, could not sustain birds as well as -quadrupeds, flying as well as creeping things, and hush and whoa, -which Bright can understand, were the best English. As if there -were safety in stupidity alone. I fear chiefly lest my expression -may not be extravagant enough, may not wander far enough beyond the -narrow limits of my daily experience, so as to be adequate to the -truth of which I have been convinced. Extra vagance it depends on -how you are yarded. The migrating buffalo, which seeks new pastures -in another latitude, is not extravagant like the cow which kicks -over the pail, leaps the cowyard fence, and runs after her calf, in -milking time. I desire to speak somewhere without bounds like a -man in a waking moment, to men in their waking moments for I am -convinced that I cannot exaggerate enough even to lay the foundation -of a true expression. Who that has heard a strain of music feared -then lest he should speak extravagantly any more forever? In view -of the future or possible, we should live quite laxly and undefined -in front, our outlines dim and misty on that side as our shadows -reveal an insensible perspiration toward the sun. The volatile -truth of our words should continually betray the inadequacy of the -residual statement. Their truth is instantly translated its -literal monument alone remains. The words which express our faith -and piety are not definite yet they are significant and fragrant -like frankincense to superior natures. -Why level downward to our dullest perception always, and praise -that as common sense? The commonest sense is the sense of men -asleep, which they express by snoring. Sometimes we are inclined to -class those who are onceandahalfwitted with the halfwitted, -because we appreciate only a third part of their wit. Some would -find fault with the morning red, if they ever got up early enough. -"They pretend," as I hear, "that the verses of Kabir have four -different senses illusion, spirit, intellect, and the exoteric -doctrine of the Vedas" but in this part of the world it is -considered a ground for complaint if a man's writings admit of more -than one interpretation. While England endeavors to cure the -potatorot, will not any endeavor to cure the brainrot, which -prevails so much more widely and fatally? -I do not suppose that I have attained to obscurity, but I should -be proud if no more fatal fault were found with my pages on this -score than was found with the Walden ice. Southern customers -objected to its blue color, which is the evidence of its purity, as -if it were muddy, and preferred the Cambridge ice, which is white, -but tastes of weeds. The purity men love is like the mists which -envelop the earth, and not like the azure ether beyond. -Some are dinning in our ears that we Americans, and moderns -generally, are intellectual dwarfs compared with the ancients, or -even the Elizabethan men. But what is that to the purpose? A -living dog is better than a dead lion. Shall a man go and hang -himself because he belongs to the race of pygmies, and not be the -biggest pygmy that he can? Let every one mind his own business, and -endeavor to be what he was made. -Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed and in such -desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his -companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let -him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. -It is not important that he should mature as soon as an apple tree -or an oak. Shall he turn his spring into summer? If the condition -of things which we were made for is not yet, what were any reality -which we can substitute? We will not be shipwrecked on a vain -reality. Shall we with pains erect a heaven of blue glass over -ourselves, though when it is done we shall be sure to gaze still at -the true ethereal heaven far above, as if the former were not? -There was an artist in the city of Kouroo who was disposed to -strive after perfection. One day it came into his mind to make a -staff. Having considered that in an imperfect work time is an -ingredient, but into a perfect work time does not enter, he said to -himself, It shall be perfect in all respects, though I should do -nothing else in my life. He proceeded instantly to the forest for -wood, being resolved that it should not be made of unsuitable -material and as he searched for and rejected stick after stick, his -friends gradually deserted him, for they grew old in their works and -died, but he grew not older by a moment. His singleness of purpose -and resolution, and his elevated piety, endowed him, without his -knowledge, with perennial youth. As he made no compromise with -Time, Time kept out of his way, and only sighed at a distance -because he could not overcome him. Before he had found a stock in -all respects suitable the city of Kouroo was a hoary ruin, and he -sat on one of its mounds to peel the stick. Before he had given it -the proper shape the dynasty of the Candahars was at an end, and -with the point of the stick he wrote the name of the last of that -race in the sand, and then resumed his work. By the time he had -smoothed and polished the staff Kalpa was no longer the polestar -and ere he had put on the ferule and the head adorned with precious -stones, Brahma had awoke and slumbered many times. But why do I -stay to mention these things? When the finishing stroke was put to -his work, it suddenly expanded before the eyes of the astonished -artist into the fairest of all the creations of Brahma. He had made -a new system in making a staff, a world with full and fair -proportions in which, though the old cities and dynasties had -passed away, fairer and more glorious ones had taken their places. -And now he saw by the heap of shavings still fresh at his feet, -that, for him and his work, the former lapse of time had been an -illusion, and that no more time had elapsed than is required for a -single scintillation from the brain of Brahma to fall on and inflame -the tinder of a mortal brain. The material was pure, and his art -was pure how could the result be other than wonderful? -No face which we can give to a matter will stead us so well at -last as the truth. This alone wears well. For the most part, we -are not where we are, but in a false position. Through an infinity -of our natures, we suppose a case, and put ourselves into it, and -hence are in two cases at the same time, and it is doubly difficult -to get out. In sane moments we regard only the facts, the case that -is. Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is -better than makebelieve. Tom Hyde, the tinker, standing on the -gallows, was asked if he had anything to say. "Tell the tailors," -said he, "to remember to make a knot in their thread before they -take the first stitch." His companion's prayer is forgotten. -However mean your life is, meet it and live it do not shun it -and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks -poorest when you are richest. The faultfinder will find faults -even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps -have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. -The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as -brightly as from the rich man's abode the snow melts before its -door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live -as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace. -The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives -of any. Maybe they are simply great enough to receive without -misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the -town but it oftener happens that they are not above supporting -themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. -Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble -yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn -the old return to them. Things do not change we change. Sell -your clothes and keep your thoughts. God will see that you do not -want society. If I were confined to a corner of a garret all my -days, like a spider, the world would be just as large to me while I -had my thoughts about me. The philosopher said "From an army of -three divisions one can take away its general, and put it in -disorder from the man the most abject and vulgar one cannot take -away his thought." Do not seek so anxiously to be developed, to -subject yourself to many influences to be played on it is all -dissipation. Humility like darkness reveals the heavenly lights. -The shadows of poverty and meanness gather around us, "and lo -creation widens to our view." We are often reminded that if there -were bestowed on us the wealth of Croesus, our aims must still be -the same, and our means essentially the same. Moreover, if you are -restricted in your range by poverty, if you cannot buy books and -newspapers, for instance, you are but confined to the most -significant and vital experiences you are compelled to deal with -the material which yields the most sugar and the most starch. It is -life near the bone where it is sweetest. You are defended from -being a trifler. No man loses ever on a lower level by magnanimity -on a higher. Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money -is not required to buy one necessary of the soul. -I live in the angle of a leaden wall, into whose composition was -poured a little alloy of bellmetal. Often, in the repose of my -midday, there reaches my ears a confused tintinnabulum from -without. It is the noise of my contemporaries. My neighbors tell -me of their adventures with famous gentlemen and ladies, what -notabilities they met at the dinnertable but I am no more -interested in such things than in the contents of the Daily Times. -The interest and the conversation are about costume and manners -chiefly but a goose is a goose still, dress it as you will. They -tell me of California and Texas, of England and the Indies, of the -Hon. Mr. of Georgia or of Massachusetts, all transient and -fleeting phenomena, till I am ready to leap from their courtyard -like the Mameluke bey. I delight to come to my bearings not walk -in procession with pomp and parade, in a conspicuous place, but to -walk even with the Builder of the universe, if I may not to live -in this restless, nervous, bustling, trivial Nineteenth Century, but -stand or sit thoughtfully while it goes by. What are men -celebrating? They are all on a committee of arrangements, and -hourly expect a speech from somebody. God is only the president of -the day, and Webster is his orator. I love to weigh, to settle, to -gravitate toward that which most strongly and rightfully attracts -me not hang by the beam of the scale and try to weigh less not -suppose a case, but take the case that is to travel the only path I -can, and that on which no power can resist me. It affords me no -satisfaction to commerce to spring an arch before I have got a solid -foundation. Let us not play at kittlybenders. There is a solid -bottom everywhere. We read that the traveller asked the boy if the -swamp before him had a hard bottom. The boy replied that it had. -But presently the traveller's horse sank in up to the girths, and he -observed to the boy, "I thought you said that this bog had a hard -bottom." "So it has," answered the latter, "but you have not got -half way to it yet." So it is with the bogs and quicksands of -society but he is an old boy that knows it. Only what is thought, -said, or done at a certain rare coincidence is good. I would not be -one of those who will foolishly drive a nail into mere lath and -plastering such a deed would keep me awake nights. Give me a -hammer, and let me feel for the furring. Do not depend on the -putty. Drive a nail home and clinch it so faithfully that you can -wake up in the night and think of your work with satisfaction a -work at which you would not be ashamed to invoke the Muse. So will -help you God, and so only. Every nail driven should be as another -rivet in the machine of the universe, you carrying on the work. -Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth. I sat -at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and -obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not and I went -away hungry from the inhospitable board. The hospitality was as -cold as the ices. I thought that there was no need of ice to freeze -them. They talked to me of the age of the wine and the fame of the -vintage but I thought of an older, a newer, and purer wine, of a -more glorious vintage, which they had not got, and could not buy. -The style, the house and grounds and "entertainment" pass for -nothing with me. I called on the king, but he made me wait in his -hall, and conducted like a man incapacitated for hospitality. There -was a man in my neighborhood who lived in a hollow tree. His -manners were truly regal. I should have done better had I called on -him. -How long shall we sit in our porticoes practising idle and musty -virtues, which any work would make impertinent? As if one were to -begin the day with longsuffering, and hire a man to hoe his -potatoes and in the afternoon go forth to practise Christian -meekness and charity with goodness aforethought Consider the China -pride and stagnant selfcomplacency of mankind. This generation -inclines a little to congratulate itself on being the last of an -illustrious line and in Boston and London and Paris and Rome, -thinking of its long descent, it speaks of its progress in art and -science and literature with satisfaction. There are the Records of -the Philosophical Societies, and the public Eulogies of Great Men -It is the good Adam contemplating his own virtue. "Yes, we have -done great deeds, and sung divine songs, which shall never die" -that is, as long as we can remember them. The learned societies and -great men of Assyria where are they? What youthful philosophers -and experimentalists we are There is not one of my readers who has -yet lived a whole human life. These may be but the spring months in -the life of the race. If we have had the sevenyears' itch, we have -not seen the seventeenyear locust yet in Concord. We are -acquainted with a mere pellicle of the globe on which we live. Most -have not delved six feet beneath the surface, nor leaped as many -above it. We know not where we are. Beside, we are sound asleep -nearly half our time. Yet we esteem ourselves wise, and have an -established order on the surface. Truly, we are deep thinkers, we -are ambitious spirits As I stand over the insect crawling amid the -pine needles on the forest floor, and endeavoring to conceal itself -from my sight, and ask myself why it will cherish those humble -thoughts, and bide its head from me who might, perhaps, be its -benefactor, and impart to its race some cheering information, I am -reminded of the greater Benefactor and Intelligence that stands over -me the human insect. -There is an incessant influx of novelty into the world, and yet -we tolerate incredible dulness. I need only suggest what kind of -sermons are still listened to in the most enlightened countries. -There are such words as joy and sorrow, but they are only the burden -of a psalm, sung with a nasal twang, while we believe in the -ordinary and mean. We think that we can change our clothes only. -It is said that the British Empire is very large and respectable, -and that the United States are a firstrate power. We do not -believe that a tide rises and falls behind every man which can float -the British Empire like a chip, if he should ever harbor it in his -mind. Who knows what sort of seventeenyear locust will next come -out of the ground? The government of the world I live in was not -framed, like that of Britain, in afterdinner conversations over the -wine. -The life in us is like the water in the river. It may rise this -year higher than man has ever known it, and flood the parched -uplands even this may be the eventful year, which will drown out -all our muskrats. It was not always dry land where we dwell. I see -far inland the banks which the stream anciently washed, before -science began to record its freshets. Every one has heard the story -which has gone the rounds of New England, of a strong and beautiful -bug which came out of the dry leaf of an old table of appletree -wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first -in Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts from an egg -deposited in the living tree many years earlier still, as appeared -by counting the annual layers beyond it which was heard gnawing out -for several weeks, hatched perchance by the heat of an urn. Who -does not feel his faith in a resurrection and immortality -strengthened by hearing of this? Who knows what beautiful and -winged life, whose egg has been buried for ages under many -concentric layers of woodenness in the dead dry life of society, -deposited at first in the alburnum of the green and living tree, -which has been gradually converted into the semblance of its -wellseasoned tomb heard perchance gnawing out now for years by -the astonished family of man, as they sat round the festive board -may unexpectedly come forth from amidst society's most trivial and -handselled furniture, to enjoy its perfect summer life at last -I do not say that John or Jonathan will realize all this but -such is the character of that morrow which mere lapse of time can -never make to dawn. The light which puts out our eyes is darkness -to us. Only that day dawns to which we are awake. There is more -day to dawn. The sun is but a morning star. -ON THE DUTY OF CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE -I heartily accept the motto, "That government is best which -governs least" and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly -and systematically. Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which -also I believe, "That government is best which governs not at -all" and when men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of -government which they will have. Government is at best but an -expedient but most governments are usually, and all governments are -sometimes, inexpedient. The objections which have been brought -against a standing army, and they are many and weighty, and deserve -to prevail, may also at last be brought against a standing -government. The standing army is only an arm of the standing -government. The government itself, which is only the mode which the -people have chosen to execute their will, is equally liable to be -abused and perverted before the people can act through it. Witness -the present Mexican war, the work of comparatively a few individuals -using the standing government as their tool for, in the outset, the -people would not have consented to this measure. -This American government what is it but a tradition, though a -recent one, endeavoring to transmit itself unimpaired to posterity, -but each instant losing some of its integrity? It has not the -vitality and force of a single living man for a single man can bend -it to his will. It is a sort of wooden gun to the people -themselves. But it is not the less necessary for this for the -people must have some complicated machinery or other, and hear its -din, to satisfy that idea of government which they have. -Governments show thus how successfully men can be imposed on, even -impose on themselves, for their own advantage. It is excellent, we -must all allow. Yet this government never of itself furthered any -enterprise, but by the alacrity with which it got out of its way. -It does not keep the country free. It does not settle the West. It -does not educate. The character inherent in the American people has -done all that has been accomplished and it would have done somewhat -more, if the government had not sometimes got in its way. For -government is an expedient by which men would fain succeed in -letting one another alone and, as has been said, when it is most -expedient, the governed are most let alone by it. Trade and -commerce, if they were not made of India rubber, would never manage -to bounce over the obstacles which legislators are continually -putting in their way and, if one were to judge these men wholly by -the effects of their actions, and not partly by their intentions, -they would deserve to be classed and punished with those mischievous -persons who put obstructions on the railroads. -But, to speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who -call themselves nogovernment men, I ask for, not at once no -government, but at once a better government. Let every man make -known what kind of government would command his respect, and that -will be one step toward obtaining it. -After all, the practical reason why, when the power is once in -the hands of the people, a majority are permitted, and for a long -period continue, to rule, is not because they are most likely to be -in the right, nor because this seems fairest to the minority, but -because they are physically the strongest. But a government in -which the majority rule in all cases cannot be based on justice, -even as far as men understand it. Can there not be a government in -which majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but -conscience? in which majorities decide only those questions to -which the rule of expediency is applicable? Must the citizen ever -for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience to the -legislator? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think that we -should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to -cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only -obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what -I think right. It is truly enough said that a corporation has no -conscience but a corporation of conscientious men is a corporation -with a conscience. Law never made men a whit more just and, by -means of their respect for it, even the welldisposed are daily made -the agents of injustice. A common and natural result of an undue -respect for law is, that you may see a file of soldiers, colonel, -captain, corporal, privates, powdermonkeys, and all, marching in -admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against their wills, -ay, against their common sense and consciences, which makes it very -steep marching indeed, and produces a palpitation of the heart. -They have no doubt that it is a damnable business in which they are -concerned they are all peaceably inclined. Now, what are they? -Men at all? or small movable forts and magazines, at the service of -some unscrupulous man in power? Visit the Navy Yard, and behold a -marine, such a man as an American government can make, or such as it -can make a man with its black arts a mere shadow and reminiscence -of humanity, a man laid out alive and standing, and already, as one -may say, buried under arms with funeral accompaniments, though it -may be -"Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, -As his corse to the rampart we hurried -Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot -O'er the grave where our hero we buried." -The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly, but as -machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the -militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus, etc. In most cases -there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral -sense but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth and -stones and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will serve -the purpose as well. Such command no more respect than men of straw -or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth only as horses -and dogs. Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed good -citizens. Others, as most legislators, politicians, lawyers, -ministers, and officeholders, serve the state chiefly with their -heads and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are as -likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God. A very -few, as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and -men, serve the state with their consciences also, and so necessarily -resist it for the most part and they are commonly treated as -enemies by it. A wise man will only be useful as a man, and will -not submit to be "clay," and "stop a hole to keep the wind away," -but leave that office to his dust at least -"I am too highborn to be propertied, -To be a secondary at control, -Or useful servingman and instrument -To any sovereign state throughout the world." -He who gives himself entirely to his fellowmen appears to them -useless and selfish but he who gives himself partially to them is -pronounced a benefactor and philanthropist. -How does it become a man to behave toward this American -government today? I answer, that he cannot without disgrace be -associated with it. I cannot for an instant recognize that -political organization as my government which is the slave's -government also. -All men recognize the right of revolution that is, the right to -refuse allegiance to, and to resist, the government, when its -tyranny or its inefficiency are great and unendurable. But almost -all say that such is not the case now. But such was the case, they -think, in the Revolution of '. If one were to tell me that this -was a bad government because it taxed certain foreign commodities -brought to its ports, it is most probable that I should not make an -ado about it, for I can do without them. All machines have their -friction and possibly this does enough good to counterbalance the -evil. At any rate, it is a great evil to make a stir about it. But -when the friction comes to have its machine, and oppression and -robbery are organized, I say, let us not have such a machine any -longer. In other words, when a sixth of the population of a nation -which has undertaken to be the refuge of liberty are slaves, and a -whole country is unjustly overrun and conquered by a foreign army, -and subjected to military law, I think that it is not too soon for -honest men to rebel and revolutionize. What makes this duty the -more urgent is the fact that the country so overrun is not our own, -but ours is the invading army. -Paley, a common authority with many on moral questions, in his -chapter on the "Duty of Submission to Civil Government," resolves -all civil obligation into expediency and he proceeds to say that -"so long as the interest of the whole society requires it, that is, -so long as the established government cannot be resisted or changed -without public inconveniency, it is the will of God... that the -established government be obeyed, and no longer.... This principle -being admitted, the justice of every particular case of resistance -is reduced to a computation of the quantity of the danger and -grievance on the one side, and of the probability and expense of -redressing it on the other." Of this, he says, every man shall -judge for himself. But Paley appears never to have contemplated -those cases to which the rule of expediency does not apply, in which -a people, as well as an individual, must do justice, cost what it -may. If I have unjustly wrested a plank from a drowning man, I must -restore it to him though I drown myself. This, according to Paley, -would be inconvenient. But he that would save his life, in such a -case, shall lose it. This people must cease to hold slaves, and to -make war on Mexico, though it cost them their existence as a people. -In their practice, nations agree with Paley but does any one -think that Massachusetts does exactly what is right at the present -crisis? -"A drab of state, a clotho'silver slut, -To have her train borne up, and her soul trail in the dirt." -Practically speaking, the opponents to a reform in Massachusetts are -not a hundred thousand politicians at the South, but a hundred -thousand merchants and farmers here, who are more interested in -commerce and agriculture than they are in humanity, and are not -prepared to do justice to the slave and to Mexico, cost what it may. -I quarrel not with faroff foes, but with those who, near at home, -cooperate with, and do the bidding of those far away, and without -whom the latter would be harmless. We are accustomed to say, that -the mass of men are unprepared but improvement is slow, because the -few are not materially wiser or better than the many. It is not so -important that many should be as good as you, as that there be some -absolute goodness somewhere for that will leaven the whole lump. -There are thousands who are in opinion opposed to slavery and to the -war, who yet in effect do nothing to put an end to them who, -esteeming themselves children of Washington and Franklin, sit down -with their hands in their pockets, and say that they know not what -to do, and do nothing who even postpone the question of freedom to -the question of freetrade, and quietly read the pricescurrent -along with the latest advices from Mexico, after dinner, and, it may -be, fall asleep over them both. What is the pricecurrent of an -honest man and patriot today? They hesitate, and they regret, and -sometimes they petition but they do nothing in earnest and with -effect. They will wait, well disposed, for others to remedy the -evil, that they may no longer have it to regret. At most, they give -only a cheap vote, and a feeble countenance and Godspeed, to the -right, as it goes by them. There are nine hundred and ninetynine -patrons of virtue to one virtuous man but it is easier to deal -with the real possessor of a thing than with the temporary guardian -of it. -All voting is a sort of gaming, like checkers or backgammon, -with a slight moral tinge to it, a playing with right and wrong, -with moral questions and betting naturally accompanies it. The -character of the voters is not staked. I cast my vote, perchance, -as I think right but I am not vitally concerned that that right -should prevail. I am willing to leave it to the majority. Its -obligation, therefore, never exceeds that of expediency. Even -voting for the right is doing nothing for it. It is only expressing -to men feebly your desire that it should prevail. A wise man will -not leave the right to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail -through the power of the majority. There is but little virtue in -the action of masses of men. When the majority shall at length vote -for the abolition of slavery, it will be because they are -indifferent to slavery, or because there is but little slavery left -to be abolished by their vote. They will then be the only slaves. -Only his vote can hasten the abolition of slavery who asserts his -own freedom by his vote. -I hear of a convention to be held at Baltimore, or elsewhere, -for the selection of a candidate for the Presidency, made up chiefly -of editors, and men who are politicians by profession but I think, -what is it to any independent, intelligent, and respectable man what -decision they may come to? Shall we not have the advantage of his -wisdom and honesty, nevertheless? Can we not count upon some -independent votes? Are there not many individuals in the country -who do not attend conventions? But no I find that the respectable -man, so called, has immediately drifted from his position, and -despairs of his country, when his country has more reason to despair -of him. He forthwith adopts one of the candidates thus selected as -the only available one, thus proving that he is himself available -for any purposes of the demagogue. His vote is of no more worth -than that of any unprincipled foreigner or hireling native, who may -have been bought. Oh for a man who is a man, and, as my neighbor -says, has a bone in his back which you cannot pass your hand -through Our statistics are at fault the population has been -returned too large. How many men are there to a square thousand -miles in this country? Hardly one. Does not America offer any -inducement for men to settle here? The American has dwindled into -an Odd Fellow one who may be known by the development of his -organ of gregariousness, and a manifest lack of intellect and -cheerful selfreliance whose first and chief concern, on coming -into the world, is to see that the almshouses are in good repair -and, before yet he has lawfully donned the virile garb, to collect a -fund for the support of the widows and orphans that may be who, in -short ventures to live only by the aid of the Mutual Insurance -company, which has promised to bury him decently. -It is not a man's duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself -to the eradication of any, even the most enormous wrong he may -still properly have other concerns to engage him but it is his -duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he gives it no -thought longer, not to give it practically his support. If I devote -myself to other pursuits and contemplations, I must first see, at -least, that I do not pursue them sitting upon another man's -shoulders. I must get off him first, that he may pursue his -contemplations too. See what gross inconsistency is tolerated. I -have heard some of my townsmen say, "I should like to have them -order me out to help put down an insurrection of the slaves, or to -march to Mexico see if I would go" and yet these very men have -each, directly by their allegiance, and so indirectly, at least, by -their money, furnished a substitute. The soldier is applauded who -refuses to serve in an unjust war by those who do not refuse to -sustain the unjust government which makes the war is applauded by -those whose own act and authority he disregards and sets at naught -as if the state were penitent to that degree that it hired one to -scourge it while it sinned, but not to that degree that it left off -sinning for a moment. Thus, under the name of Order and Civil -Government, we are all made at last to pay homage to and support our -own meanness. After the first blush of sin comes its indifference -and from immoral it becomes, as it were, unmoral, and not quite -unnecessary to that life which we have made. -The broadest and most prevalent error requires the most -disinterested virtue to sustain it. The slight reproach to which -the virtue of patriotism is commonly liable, the noble are most -likely to incur. Those who, while they disapprove of the character -and measures of a government, yield to it their allegiance and -support are undoubtedly its most conscientious supporters, and so -frequently the most serious obstacles to reform. Some are -petitioning the State to dissolve the Union, to disregard the -requisitions of the President. Why do they not dissolve it -themselves the union between themselves and the State and -refuse to pay their quota into its treasury? Do not they stand in -the same relation to the State, that the State does to the Union? -And have not the same reasons prevented the State from resisting the -Union, which have prevented them from resisting the State? -How can a man be satisfied to entertain an opinion merely, and -enjoy it? Is there any enjoyment in it, if his opinion is that he -is aggrieved? If you are cheated out of a single dollar by your -neighbor, you do not rest satisfied with knowing that you are -cheated, or with saying that you are cheated, or even with -petitioning him to pay you your due but you take effectual steps at -once to obtain the full amount, and see that you are never cheated -again. Action from principle the perception and the performance -of right changes things and relations it is essentially -revolutionary, and does not consist wholly with anything which was. -It not only divides states and churches, it divides families ay, it -divides the individual, separating the diabolical in him from the -divine. -Unjust laws exist shall we be content to obey them, or shall we -endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or -shall we transgress them at once? Men generally, under such a -government as this, think that they ought to wait until they have -persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if they -should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But it is -the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than the -evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and -provide for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why -does it cry and resist before it is hurt? Why does it not encourage -its citizens to be on the alert to point out its faults, and do -better than it would have them? Why does it always crucify Christ, -and excommunicate Copernicus and Luther, and pronounce Washington -and Franklin rebels? -One would think, that a deliberate and practical denial of its -authority was the only offence never contemplated by government -else, why has it not assigned its definite, its suitable and -proportionate, penalty? If a man who has no property refuses but -once to earn nine shillings for the State, he is put in prison for a -period unlimited by any law that I know, and determined only by the -discretion of those who placed him there but if he should steal -ninety times nine shillings from the State, he is soon permitted to -go at large again. -If the injustice is part of the necessary friction of the -machine of government, let it go, let it go perchance it will wear -smooth certainly the machine will wear out. If the injustice has -a spring, or a pulley, or a rope, or a crank, exclusively for -itself, then perhaps you may consider whether the remedy will not be -worse than the evil but if it is of such a nature that it requires -you to be the agent of injustice to another, then, I say, break the -law. Let your life be a counter friction to stop the machine. What -I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to -the wrong which I condemn. -As for adopting the ways which the State has provided for -remedying the evil, I know not of such ways. They take too much -time, and a man's life will be gone. I have other affairs to attend -to. I came into this world, not chiefly to make this a good place -to live in, but to live in it, be it good or bad. A man has not -everything to do, but something and because he cannot do -everything, it is not necessary that he should do something wrong. -It is not my business to be petitioning the Governor or the -Legislature any more than it is theirs to petition me and if they -should not hear my petition, what should I do then? But in this -case the State has provided no way its very Constitution is the -evil. This may seem to be harsh and stubborn and unconciliatory -but it is to treat with the utmost kindness and consideration the -only spirit that can appreciate or deserves it. So is an change for -the better, like birth and death which convulse the body. -I do not hesitate to say, that those who call themselves -Abolitionists should at once effectually withdraw their support, -both in person and property, from the government of Massachusetts, -and not wait till they constitute a majority of one, before they -suffer the right to prevail through them. I think that it is enough -if they have God on their side, without waiting for that other one. -Moreover, any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a -majority of one already. -I meet this American government, or its representative, the -State government, directly, and face to face, once a year no more -in the person of its taxgatherer this is the only mode in which -a man situated as I am necessarily meets it and it then says -distinctly, Recognize me and the simplest, the most effectual, and, -in the present posture of affairs, the indispensablest mode of -treating with it on this head, of expressing your little -satisfaction with and love for it, is to deny it then. My civil -neighbor, the taxgatherer, is the very man I have to deal with -for it is, after all, with men and not with parchment that I quarrel -and he has voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. -How shall he ever know well what he is and does as an officer of the -government, or as a man, until he is obliged to consider whether he -shall treat me, his neighbor, for whom he has respect, as a neighbor -and welldisposed man, or as a maniac and disturber of the peace, -and see if he can get over this obstruction to his neighborliness -without a ruder and more impetuous thought or speech corresponding -with his action? I know this well, that if one thousand, if one -hundred, if ten men whom I could name if ten honest men only -ay, if one HONEST man, in this State of Massachusetts, ceasing to -hold slaves, were actually to withdraw from this copartnership, and -be locked up in the county jail therefor, it would be the abolition -of slavery in America. For it matters not how small the beginning -may seem to be what is once well done is done forever. But we love -better to talk about it that we say is our mission. Reform keeps -many scores of newspapers in its service, but not one man. If my -esteemed neighbor, the State's ambassador, who will devote his days -to the settlement of the question of human rights in the Council -Chamber, instead of being threatened with the prisons of Carolina, -were to sit down the prisoner of Massachusetts, that State which is -so anxious to foist the sin of slavery upon her sister though at -present she can discover only an act of inhospitality to be the -ground of a quarrel with her the Legislature would not wholly -waive the subject the following winter. -Under a government which imprisons any unjustly, the true place -for a just man is also a prison. The proper place today, the only -place which Massachusetts has provided for her freer and less -desponding spirits, is in her prisons, to be put out and locked out -of the State by her own act, as they have already put themselves out -by their principles. It is there that the fugitive slave, and the -Mexican prisoner on parole, and the Indian come to plead the wrongs -of his race, should find them on that separate, but more free and -honorable ground, where the State places those who are not with -her, but against her the only house in a slave State in which a -free man can abide with honor. If any think that their influence -would be lost there, and their voices no longer afflict the ear of -the State, that they would not be as an enemy within its walls, they -do not know by how much truth is stronger than error, nor how much -more eloquently and effectively he can combat injustice who has -experienced a little in his own person. Cast your whole vote, not a -strip of paper merely, but your whole influence. A minority is -powerless while it conforms to the majority it is not even a -minority then but it is irresistible when it clogs by its whole -weight. If the alternative is to keep all just men in prison, or -give up war and slavery, the State will not hesitate which to -choose. If a thousand men were not to pay their taxbills this -year, that would not be a violent and bloody measure, as it would be -to pay them, and enable the State to commit violence and shed -innocent blood. This is, in fact, the definition of a peaceable -revolution, if any such is possible. If the taxgatherer, or any -other public officer, asks me, as one has done, "But what shall I -do?" my answer is, "If you really wish to do anything, resign your -office." When the subject has refused allegiance, and the officer -has resigned his office, then the revolution is accomplished. But -even suppose blood should flow. Is there not a sort of blood shed -when the conscience is wounded? Through this wound a man's real -manhood and immortality flow out, and he bleeds to an everlasting -death. I see this blood flowing now. -I have contemplated the imprisonment of the offender, rather -than the seizure of his goods though both will serve the same -purpose because they who assert the purest right, and -consequently are most dangerous to a corrupt State, commonly have -not spent much time in accumulating property. To such the State -renders comparatively small service, and a slight tax is wont to -appear exorbitant, particularly if they are obliged to earn it by -special labor with their hands. If there were one who lived wholly -without the use of money, the State itself would hesitate to demand -it of him. But the rich man not to make any invidious comparison -is always sold to the institution which makes him rich. -Absolutely speaking, the more money, the less virtue for money -comes between a man and his objects, and obtains them for him and -it was certainly no great virtue to obtain it. It puts to rest many -questions which he would otherwise be taxed to answer while the -only new question which it puts is the hard but superfluous one, how -to spend it. Thus his moral ground is taken from under his feet. -The opportunities of living are diminished in proportion as what are -called the "means" are increased. The best thing a man can do for -his culture when he is rich is to endeavor to carry out those -schemes which he entertained when he was poor. Christ answered the -Herodians according to their condition. "Show me the -tributemoney," said he and one took a penny out of his pocket -if you use money which has the image of Caesar on it, and which -he has made current and valuable, that is, if you are men of the -State, and gladly enjoy the advantages of Caesar's government, then -pay him back some of his own when he demands it "Render therefore -to Caesar that which is Caesar's, and to God those things which are -God's" leaving them no wiser than before as to which was which -for they did not wish to know. -When I converse with the freest of my neighbors, I perceive -that, whatever they may say about the magnitude and seriousness of -the question, and their regard for the public tranquillity, the long -and the short of the matter is, that they cannot spare the -protection of the existing government, and they dread the -consequences to their property and families of disobedience to it. -For my own part, I should not like to think that I ever rely on the -protection of the State. But, if I deny the authority of the State -when it presents its taxbill, it will soon take and waste all my -property, and so harass me and my children without end. This is -hard. This makes it impossible for a man to live honestly, and at -the same time comfortably in outward respects. It will not be worth -the while to accumulate property that would be sure to go again. -You must hire or squat somewhere, and raise but a small crop, and -eat that soon. You must live within yourself, and depend upon -yourself always tucked up and ready for a start, and not have many -affairs. A man may grow rich in Turkey even, if he will be in all -respects a good subject of the Turkish government. Confucius said, -"If a state is governed by the principles of reason, poverty and -misery are subjects of shame if a state is not governed by the -principles of reason, riches and honors are the subjects of shame." -No until I want the protection of Massachusetts to be extended to -me in some distant Southern port, where my liberty is endangered, or -until I am bent solely on building up an estate at home by peaceful -enterprise, I can afford to refuse allegiance to Massachusetts, and -her right to my property and life. It costs me less in every sense -to incur the penalty of disobedience to the State than it would to -obey. I should feel as if I were worth less in that case. -Some years ago, the State met me in behalf of the Church, and -commanded me to pay a certain sum toward the support of a clergyman -whose preaching my father attended, but never I myself. "Pay," it -said, "or be locked up in the jail." I declined to pay. But, -unfortunately, another man saw fit to pay it. I did not see why the -schoolmaster should be taxed to support the priest, and not the -priest the schoolmaster for I was not the State's schoolmaster, but -I supported myself by voluntary subscription. I did not see why the -lyceum should not present its taxbill, and have the State to back -its demand, as well as the Church. However, at the request of the -selectmen, I condescended to make some such statement as this in -writing "Know all men by these presents, that I, Henry Thoreau, -do not wish to be regarded as a member of any incorporated society -which I have not joined." This I gave to the town clerk and he has -it. The State, having thus learned that I did not wish to be -regarded as a member of that church, has never made a like demand on -me since though it said that it must adhere to its original -presumption that time. If I had known how to name them, I should -then have signed off in detail from all the societies which I never -signed on to but I did not know where to find a complete list. -I have paid no polltax for six years. I was put into a jail -once on this account, for one night and, as I stood considering the -walls of solid stone, two or three feet thick, the door of wood and -iron, a foot thick, and the iron grating which strained the light, I -could not help being struck with the foolishness of that institution -which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood and bones, to be -locked up. I wondered that it should have concluded at length that -this was the best use it could put me to, and had never thought to -avail itself of my services in some way. I saw that, if there was a -wall of stone between me and my townsmen, there was a still more -difficult one to climb or break through, before they could get to be -as free as I was. I did not for a moment feel confined, and the -walls seemed a great waste of stone and mortar. I felt as if I -alone of all my townsmen had paid my tax. They plainly did not know -how to treat me, but behaved like persons who are underbred. In -every threat and in every compliment there was a blunder for they -thought that my chief desire was to stand the other side of that -stone wall. I could not but smile to see how industriously they -locked the door on my meditations, which followed them out again -without let or hindrance, and they were really all that was -dangerous. As they could not reach me, they had resolved to punish -my body just as boys, if they cannot come at some person against -whom they have a spite, will abuse his dog. I saw that the State -was halfwitted, that it was timid as a lone woman with her silver -spoons, and that it did not know its friends from its foes, and I -lost all my remaining respect for it, and pitied it. -Thus the State never intentionally confronts a man's sense, -intellectual or moral, but only his body, his senses. It is not -armed with superior wit or honesty, but with superior physical -strength. I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own -fashion. Let us see who is the strongest. What force has a -multitude? They only can force me who obey a higher law than I. -They force me to become like themselves. I do not hear of men being -forced to have this way or that by masses of men. What sort of life -were that to live? When I meet a government which says to me, "Your -money or your life," why should I be in haste to give it my money? -It may be in a great strait, and not know what to do I cannot help -that. It must help itself do as I do. It is not worth the while -to snivel about it. I am not responsible for the successful working -of the machinery of society. I am not the son of the engineer. I -perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side by side, the -one does not remain inert to make way for the other, but both obey -their own laws, and spring and grow and flourish as best they can, -till one, perchance, overshadows and destroys the other. If a plant -cannot live according to its nature, it dies and so a man. -The night in prison was novel and interesting enough. The -prisoners in their shirtsleeves were enjoying a chat and the -evening air in the doorway, when I entered. But the jailer said, -"Come, boys, it is time to lock up" and so they dispersed, and I -heard the sound of their steps returning into the hollow apartments. -My roommate was introduced to me by the jailer as "a firstrate -fellow and a clever man." When the door was locked, he showed me -where to hang my hat, and how he managed matters there. The rooms -were whitewashed once a month and this one, at least, was the -whitest, most simply furnished, and probably the neatest apartment -in the town. He naturally wanted to know where I came from, and -what brought me there and, when I had told him, I asked him in my -turn how he came there, presuming him to be an honest man, of -course and, as the world goes, I believe he was. "Why," said he, -"they accuse me of burning a barn but I never did it." As near as -I could discover, he had probably gone to bed in a barn when drunk, -and smoked his pipe there and so a barn was burnt. He had the -reputation of being a clever man, had been there some three months -waiting for his trial to come on, and would have to wait as much -longer but he was quite domesticated and contented, since he got -his board for nothing, and thought that he was well treated. -He occupied one window, and I the other and I saw that if one -stayed there long, his principal business would be to look out the -window. I had soon read all the tracts that were left there, and -examined where former prisoners had broken out, and where a grate -had been sawed off, and heard the history of the various occupants -of that room for I found that even here there was a history and a -gossip which never circulated beyond the walls of the jail. -Probably this is the only house in the town where verses are -composed, which are afterward printed in a circular form, but not -published. I was shown quite a long list of verses which were -composed by some young men who had been detected in an attempt to -escape, who avenged themselves by singing them. -I pumped my fellowprisoner as dry as I could, for fear I should -never see him again but at length he showed me which was my bed, -and left me to blow out the lamp. -It was like travelling into a far country, such as I had never -expected to behold, to lie there for one night. It seemed to me -that I never had heard the townclock strike before, nor the evening -sounds of the village for we slept with the windows open, which -were inside the grating. It was to see my native village in the -light of the Middle Ages, and our Concord was turned into a Rhine -stream, and visions of knights and castles passed before me. They -were the voices of old burghers that I heard in the streets. I was -an involuntary spectator and auditor of whatever was done and said -in the kitchen of the adjacent villageinn a wholly new and rare -experience to me. It was a closer view of my native town. I was -fairly inside of it. I never had seen its institutions before. -This is one of its peculiar institutions for it is a shire town. I -began to comprehend what its inhabitants were about. -In the morning, our breakfasts were put through the hole in the -door, in small oblongsquare tin pans, made to fit, and holding a -pint of chocolate, with brown bread, and an iron spoon. When they -called for the vessels again, I was green enough to return what -bread I had left but my comrade seized it, and said that I should -lay that up for lunch or dinner. Soon after he was let out to work -at haying in a neighboring field, whither he went every day, and -would not be back till noon so he bade me goodday, saying that he -doubted if he should see me again. -When I came out of prison for some one interfered, and paid -that tax I did not perceive that great changes had taken place on -the common, such as he observed who went in a youth and emerged a -tottering and grayheaded man and yet a change had to my eyes come -over the scene the town, and State, and country greater than -any that mere time could effect. I saw yet more distinctly the -State in which I lived. I saw to what extent the people among whom -I lived could be trusted as good neighbors and friends that their -friendship was for summer weather only that they did not greatly -propose to do right that they were a distinct race from me by their -prejudices and superstitions, as the Chinamen and Malays are that -in their sacrifices to humanity, they ran no risks, not even to -their property that after all they were not so noble but they -treated the thief as he had treated them, and hoped, by a certain -outward observance and a few prayers, and by walking in a particular -straight though useless path from time to time, to save their souls. -This may be to judge my neighbors harshly for I believe that many -of them are not aware that they have such an institution as the jail -in their village. -It was formerly the custom in our village, when a poor debtor -came out of jail, for his acquaintances to salute him, looking -through their fingers, which were crossed to represent the grating -of a jail window, "How do ye do?" My neighbors did not thus salute -me, but first looked at me, and then at one another, as if I had -returned from a long journey. I was put into jail as I was going to -the shoemaker's to get a shoe which was mended. When I was let out -the next morning, I proceeded to finish my errand, and, having put -on my mended shoe, joined a huckleberry party, who were impatient to -put themselves under my conduct and in half an hour for the -horse was soon tackled was in the midst of a huckleberry field, -on one of our highest hills, two miles off, and then the State was -nowhere to be seen. -This is the whole history of "My Prisons." -I have never declined paying the highway tax, because I am as -desirous of being a good neighbor as I am of being a bad subject -and as for supporting schools, I am doing my part to educate my -fellowcountrymen now. It is for no particular item in the taxbill -that I refuse to pay it. I simply wish to refuse allegiance to the -State, to withdraw and stand aloof from it effectually. I do not -care to trace the course of my dollar, if I could, till it buys a -man or a musket to shoot one with the dollar is innocent but I -am concerned to trace the effects of my allegiance. In fact, I -quietly declare war with the State, after my fashion, though I will -still make what use and get what advantage of her I can, as is usual -in such cases. -If others pay the tax which is demanded of me, from a sympathy -with the State, they do but what they have already done in their own -case, or rather they abet injustice to a greater extent than the -State requires. If they pay the tax from a mistaken interest in the -individual taxed, to save his property, or prevent his going to -jail, it is because they have not considered wisely how far they let -their private feelings interfere with the public good. -This, then, is my position at present. But one cannot be too -much on his guard in such a case, lest his action be biased by -obstinacy or an undue regard for the opinions of men. Let him see -that he does only what belongs to himself and to the hour. -I think sometimes, Why, this people mean well they are only -ignorant they would do better if they knew how why give your -neighbors this pain to treat you as they are not inclined to? But I -think, again, This is no reason why I should do as they do, or -permit others to suffer much greater pain of a different kind. -Again, I sometimes say to myself, When many millions of men, without -heat, without illwill, without personal feeling of any kind, demand -of you a few shillings only, without the possibility, such is their -constitution, of retracting or altering their present demand, and -without the possibility, on your side, of appeal to any other -millions, why expose yourself to this overwhelming brute force? You -do not resist cold and hunger, the winds and the waves, thus -obstinately you quietly submit to a thousand similar necessities. -You do not put your head into the fire. But just in proportion as I -regard this as not wholly a brute force, but partly a human force, -and consider that I have relations to those millions as to so many -millions of men, and not of mere brute or inanimate things, I see -that appeal is possible, first and instantaneously, from them to the -Maker of them, and, secondly, from them to themselves. But, if I -put my head deliberately into the fire, there is no appeal to fire -or to the Maker of fire, and I have only myself to blame. If I -could convince myself that I have any right to be satisfied with men -as they are, and to treat them accordingly, and not according, in -some respects, to my requisitions and expectations of what they and -I ought to be, then, like a good Mussulman and fatalist, I should -endeavor to be satisfied with things as they are, and say it is the -will of God. And, above all, there is this difference between -resisting this and a purely brute or natural force, that I can -resist this with some effect but I cannot expect, like Orpheus, to -change the nature of the rocks and trees and beasts. -I do not wish to quarrel with any man or nation. I do not wish -to split hairs, to make fine distinctions, or set myself up as -better than my neighbors. I seek rather, I may say, even an excuse -for conforming to the laws of the land. I am but too ready to -conform to them. Indeed, I have reason to suspect myself on this -head and each year, as the taxgatherer comes round, I find myself -disposed to review the acts and position of the general and State -governments, and the spirit of the people, to discover a pretext for -conformity. -"We must affect our country as our parents, -And if at any time we alienate -Our love or industry from doing it honor, -We must respect effects and teach the soul -Matter of conscience and religion, -And not desire of rule or benefit." -I believe that the State will soon be able to take all my work -of this sort out of my hands, and then I shall be no better a -patriot than my fellowcountrymen. Seen from a lower point of view, -the Constitution, with all its faults, is very good the law and the -courts are very respectable even this State and this American -government are, in many respects, very admirable and rare things, -to be thankful for, such as a great many have described them but -seen from a point of view a little higher, they are what I have -described them seen from a higher still, and the highest, who shall -say what they are, or that they are worth looking at or thinking of -at all? -However, the government does not concern me much, and I shall -bestow the fewest possible thoughts on it. It is not many moments -that I live under a government, even in this world. If a man is -thoughtfree, fancyfree, imaginationfree, that which is not never -for a long time appearing to be to him, unwise rulers or reformers -cannot fatally interrupt him. -I know that most men think differently from myself but those -whose lives are by profession devoted to the study of these or -kindred subjects, content me as little as any. Statesmen and -legislators, standing so completely within the institution, never -distinctly and nakedly behold it. They speak of moving society, but -have no restingplace without it. They may be men of a certain -experience and discrimination, and have no doubt invented ingenious -and even useful systems, for which we sincerely thank them but all -their wit and usefulness lie within certain not very wide limits. -They are wont to forget that the world is not governed by policy and -expediency. Webster never goes behind government, and so cannot -speak with authority about it. His words are wisdom to those -legislators who contemplate no essential reform in the existing -government but for thinkers, and those who legislate for all time, -he never once glances at the subject. I know of those whose serene -and wise speculations on this theme would soon reveal the limits of -his mind's range and hospitality. Yet, compared with the cheap -professions of most reformers, and the still cheaper wisdom and -eloquence of politicians in general, his are almost the only -sensible and valuable words, and we thank Heaven for him. -Comparatively, he is always strong, original, and, above all, -practical. Still, his quality is not wisdom, but prudence. The -lawyer's truth is not truth, but consistency or a consistent -expediency. Truth is always in harmony with herself, and is not -concerned chiefly to reveal the justice that may consist with -wrongdoing. He well deserves to be called, as he has been called, -the Defender of the Constitution. There are really no blows to be -given by him but defensive ones. He is not a leader, but a -follower. His leaders are the men of '. "I have never made an -effort," he says, "and never propose to make an effort I have never -countenanced an effort, and never mean to countenance an effort, to -disturb the arrangement as originally made, by which the various -States came into the Union." Still thinking of the sanction which -the Constitution gives to slavery, he says, "Because it was a part -of the original compact let it stand." Notwithstanding his -special acuteness and ability, he is unable to take a fact out of -its merely political relations, and behold it as it lies absolutely -to be disposed of by the intellect what, for instance, it -behooves a man to do here in America today with regard to slavery, -but ventures, or is driven, to make some such desperate answer as -the following, while professing to speak absolutely, and as a -private man from which what new and singular code of social -duties might be inferred? "The manner," says he, "in which the -governments of those States where slavery exists are to regulate it -is for their own consideration, under their responsibility to their -constituents, to the general laws of propriety, humanity, and -justice, and to God. Associations formed elsewhere, springing from -a feeling of humanity, or any other cause, have nothing whatever to -do with it. They have never received any encouragement from me, and -they never will." -They who know of no purer sources of truth, who have traced up -its stream no higher, stand, and wisely stand, by the Bible and the -Constitution, and drink at it there with reverence and humility but -they who behold where it comes trickling into this lake or that -pool, gird up their loins once more, and continue their pilgrimage -toward its fountainhead. -No man with a genius for legislation has appeared in America. -They are rare in the history of the world. There are orators, -politicians, and eloquent men, by the thousand but the speaker has -not yet opened his mouth to speak who is capable of settling the -muchvexed questions of the day. We love eloquence for its own -sake, and not for any truth which it may utter, or any heroism it -may inspire. Our legislators have not yet learned the comparative -value of freetrade and of freedom, of union, and of rectitude, to a -nation. They have no genius or talent for comparatively humble -questions of taxation and finance, commerce and manufacturers and -agriculture. If we were left solely to the wordy wit of legislators -in Congress for our guidance, uncorrected by the seasonable -experience and the effectual complaints of the people, America would -not long retain her rank among the nations. For eighteen hundred -years, though perchance I have no right to say it, the New Testament -has been written yet where is the legislator who has wisdom and -practical talent enough to avail himself of the light which it sheds -on the science of legislation? -The authority of government, even such as I am willing to submit -to for I will cheerfully obey those who know and can do better -than I, and in many things even those who neither know nor can do so -well is still an impure one to be strictly just, it must have -the sanction and consent of the governed. It can have no pure right -over my person and property but what I concede to it. The progress -from an absolute to a limited monarchy, from a limited monarchy to a -democracy, is a progress toward a true respect for the individual. -Even the Chinese philosopher was wise enough to regard the -individual as the basis of the empire. Is a democracy, such as we -know it, the last improvement possible in government? Is it not -possible to take a step further towards recognizing and organizing -the rights of man? There will never be a really free and -enlightened State until the State comes to recognize the individual -as a higher and independent power, from which all its own power and -authority are derived, and treats him accordingly. I please myself -with imagining a State at least which can afford to be just to all -men, and to treat the individual with respect as a neighbor which -even would not think it inconsistent with its own repose if a few -were to live aloof from it, not meddling with it, nor embraced by -it, who fulfilled all the duties of neighbors and fellowmen. A -State which bore this kind of fruit, and suffered it to drop off as -fast as it ripened, would prepare the way for a still more perfect -and glorious State, which also I have imagined, but not yet anywhere -seen. -- cgit v1.3.1